the land of Narog left behind!
410Foreboding evil weights their mind,
as downcast, halting, they must go
and cross the stony bridge of woe
to Wizard’s Isle, and to the throne
there fashioned of blood-darkened stone.
415‘Where have ye been? What have ye seen?’
‘In Elfinesse; and tears and distress,
the fire blowing and the blood flowing,
these have we seen, there have we been.
Thirty we slew and their bodies threw
420in a dark pit. The ravens sit
and the owl cries where our swath lies.’
‘Come, tell me true, O Morgoth’s thralls,
what then in Elfinesse befalls?
What of Nargothrond? Who reigneth there?
425Into that realm did your feet dare?’
‘Only its borders did we dare.
There reigns King Felagund the fair.’
‘Then heard ye not that he is gone,
that Celegorm sits his throne upon?’
430‘That is not true! If he is gone,
then Orodreth sits his throne upon.’
‘Sharp are your ears, swift have they got
tidings of realms ye entered not!
What are your names, O spearmen bold?
435Who your captain, ye have not told.’
‘Nereb and Dungalef and warriors ten,
so we are called, and dark our den
under the mountains. Over the waste
we march on an errand of need and haste.
440Boldog the captain awaits us there
where fires from under smoke and flare.’
‘Boldog, I heard, was lately slain
warring on the borders of that domain
where Robber Thingol and outlaw folk
445cringe and crawl beneath elm and oak
in drear Doriath. Heard ye not then
of that pretty fay, of Lúthien?
Her body is fair, very white and fair.
Morgoth would possess her in his lair.
450Boldog he sent, but Boldog was slain:
strange ye were not in Boldog’s train.
Nereb looks fierce, his frown is grim.
Little Lúthien! What troubles him?
Why laughs he not to think of his lord
455crushing a maiden in his hoard,
that foul should be what once was clean,
that dark should be where light has been?
Whom do ye serve, Light or Mirk?
Who is the maker of mightiest work?
460Who is the king of earthly kings,
the greatest giver of gold and rings?
Who is the master of the wide earth?
Who despoiled them of their mirth,
the greedy Gods! Repeat your vows,
465Orcs of Bauglir! Do not bend your brows!
Death to light, to law, to love!
Cursed be moon and stars above!
May darkness everlasting old
that waits outside in surges cold
470drown Manwë, Varda, and the sun!
May all in hatred be begun
and all in evil ended be,
in the moaning of the endless Sea!’
But no true Man nor Elf yet free
475would ever speak that blasphemy,
and Beren muttered: ‘Who is Thû
to hinder work that is to do?
Him we serve not, nor to him owe
obeisance, and we now would go.’
480Thû laughed: ‘Patience! Not very long
shall ye abide. But first a song
I will sing to you, to ears intent.’
Then his flaming eyes he on them bent
and darkness black fell round them all.
485Only they saw as through a pall
of eddying smoke those eyes profound
in which their senses choked and drowned.
He chanted a song of wizardry,
of piercing, opening, of treachery,
490revealing, uncovering, betraying.
Then sudden Felagund there swaying
sang in answer a song of staying,
resisting, battling against power,
of secrets kept, strength like a tower,
500and trust unbroken, freedom, escape;
of changing and of shifting shape,
of snares eluded, broken traps,
the prison opening, the chain that snaps.
Backwards and forwards swayed their song.
505Reeling and foundering, as ever more strong
Thû’s chanting swelled, Felagund fought,
and all the magic and might he brought
of Elfinesse into his words.
Softly in the gloom they heard the birds
510singing afar in Nargothrond,
the sighing of the sea beyond,
beyond the western world, on sand,
on sand of pearls in Elvenland.
Then the gloom gathered: darkness growing
515in Valinor, the red blood flowing
beside the sea, where the Gnomes slew
the Foamriders, and stealing drew
their white ships with their white sails
from lamplit havens. The wind wails.
520The wolf howls. The ravens flee.
The ice mutters in the mouths of the sea.
The captives sad in Angband mourn.
Thunder rumbles, the fires burn,
a vast smoke gushes out, a roar—
525and Felagund swoons upon the floor.
Behold! they are in their own fair shape,
fairskinned, brighteyed. No longer gape
Orclike their mouths; and now they stand
betrayed into the wizard’s hand.
530Thus came they unhappy into woe,
to dungeons no hope nor glimmer know,
where chained in chains that eat the flesh
and woven in webs of strangling mesh
they lay forgotten, in despair.
535Yet not all unavailing were
the spells of Felagund; for Thû
neither their names nor purpose knew.
These much he pondered and bethought,
and in their woeful chains them sought,
540and threatened all with dreadful death,
if one would not with traitor’s breath
reveal this knowledge. Wolves should come
and slow devour them one by one
before the others’ eyes, and last
545should one alone be left aghast,
then in a place of horror hung
with anguish should his limbs be wrung,
in the bowels of the earth be slow
endlessly, cruelly, put to woe
550and torment, till he all declared.
Even as he threatened, so it fared.
From time to time in the eyeless dark
two eyes would grow, and they would hark
to frightful cries, and then a sound
555of rending, a slavering on the ground,
and blood flowing they would smell.
But none would yield, and none would tell.
Here Canto VII ends. I return now to the Quenta, and take it up from the words ‘Long were they tortured in the dungeons of Thû, but none betrayed the other’ with which the previous extract ends (p. 110); and as previously I follow the Quenta account with the vastly different passage in the Lay.
A FURTHER EXTRACT FROM THE QUENTA
In the meanwhile Lúthien, learning by the far sight of Melian that Beren had fallen into the power of Thû, sought in her despair to fly from Doriath. This became known to Thingol, who imprisoned her in a house in the tallest of his mighty beeches far above the ground. How she escaped and came into the woods, and was found there by Celegorm as they hunted on the borders of Doriath, is told in The Lay of Leithian. They took her treacherously to Nargothrond, and Curufin the crafty became enam
oured of her beauty. From her tale they learned that Felagund was in the hands of Thû; and they purposed to let him perish there, and keep Lúthien with them, and force Thingol to wed Lúthien to Curufin, and so build up their power and usurp Nargothrond and become the mightiest of the princes of the Gnomes. They did not think to go in search of the Silmarils, or suffer any others to do so, until they had all the power of the Elves beneath themselves and obedient to them. But their designs came to nought save estrangement and bitterness between the kingdoms of the Elves.
Huan was the name of the chief of the hounds of Celegorm. He was of immortal race from the hunting-lands of Oromë. Oromë gave him to Celegorm long before in Valinor, when Celegorm often rode in the train of the God and followed his horn. He came into the Great Lands with his master, and dart nor weapon, spell nor poison, could harm him, so that he went into battle with his lord and saved him many times from death. His fate had decreed that he should not meet death save at the hands of the mightiest wolf that should ever walk the world.
Huan was true of heart, and he loved Lúthien from the hour that he first found her in the woods and brought her to Celegorm. His heart was grieved by his master’s treachery, and he set Lúthien free and went with her to the North.
There Thû slew his captives one by one, till only Felagund and Beren were left. When the hour for Beren’s death came Felagund put forth all his power, and burst his bonds, and wrestled with the werewolf that came to slay Beren; and he killed the wolf, but was himself slain in the dark. There Beren mourned in despair, and waited for death. But Lúthien came and sang outside the dungeons. Thus she beguiled Thû to come forth, for the fame of the loveliness of Lúthien had gone through all lands and the wonder of her song. Even Morgoth desired her, and had promised the greatest reward to any who could capture her. Each wolf that Thû sent Huan slew silently, till Draugluin the greatest of his wolves came. Then there was fierce battle, and Thû knew that Lúthien was not alone. But he remembered the fate of Huan, and he made himself the greatest wolf that had yet walked the world, and came forth. But Huan overthrew him, and won from him the keys and the spells that held together his enchanted walls and towers. So the stronghold was broken and the towers thrown down and the dungeons opened. Many captives were released, but Thû flew in bat’s form to Taur-na-Fuin. There Lúthien found Beren mourning beside Felagund. She healed his sorrow and the wasting of his imprisonment, but Felagund they buried on the top of his own island hill, and Thû came there no more.
Then Huan returned to his master, and less was the love between them after. Beren and Lúthien wandered careless in happiness until they came nigh to the borders of Doriath once more. There Beren remembered his vow, and bade Lúthien farewell, but she would not be sundered from him. In Nargothrond there was tumult. For Huan and many of the captives of Thû brought back the tidings of the deeds of Lúthien, and the death of Felagund, and the treachery of Celegorm and Curufin was laid bare. It is said they had sent a secret embassy to Thingol ere Lúthien escaped, but Thingol in wrath had sent their letters back by his own servants to Orodreth. Wherefore now the hearts of the people of Narog turned back to the house of Finrod, and they mourned their king Felagund whom they had forsaken, and they did the bidding of Orodreth.
But he would not suffer them to slay the sons of Fëanor as they wished. Instead he banished them from Nargothrond, and swore that little love should there be between Narog and any of the sons of Fëanor thereafter. And so it was.
Celegorm and Curufin were riding in haste and wrath through the woods to find their way to Himling when they came upon Beren and Lúthien, even as Beren sought to part from his love. They rode down on them, and recognizing them tried to trample Beren under their hooves.
But Curufin lifted Lúthien to his saddle. Then befell the leap of Beren, the greatest leap of mortal Men. For he sprang like a lion right upon the speeding horse of Curufin, and grasped him about the throat, and horse and rider fell in confusion upon the earth, but Lúthien was flung far off and lay dazed upon the ground. There Beren choked Curufin, but his death was very nigh from Celegorm, who rode back with his spear. In that hour Huan forsook the service of Celegorm, and sprang upon him so that his horse swerved aside, and no man for fear of the terror of the great hound dared go nigh. Lúthien forbade the death of Curufin, but Beren despoiled him of his horse and weapons, chief of which was his famous knife, made by the Dwarves. It would cut iron like wood. Then the brothers rode off, but shot back at Huan treacherously and at Lúthien. Huan they did not hurt, but Beren sprang before Lúthien and was wounded, and Men remembered that wound against the sons of Fëanor, when it became known.
Huan stayed with Lúthien, and hearing of their perplexity and the purpose Beren had still to go to Angband, he went and fetched them from the ruined halls of Thû a werewolf’s coat and a bat’s. Three times only did Huan speak with the tongue of Elves or Men. The first was when he came to Lúthien in Nargothrond. This was the second, when he devised the desperate counsel for their quest. So they rode North, till they could no longer go on horse in safety. Then they put on the garments as of wolf and bat, and Lúthien in guise of evil fay rode upon the werewolf.
In The Lay of Leithian is all told how they came to Angband’s gate, and found it newly guarded, for rumour of he knew not what design abroad among the Elves had come to Morgoth. Wherefore he fashioned the mightiest of all wolves, Carcharas Knife-fang, to sit at the gates. But Lúthien set him in spells, and they won their way to the presence of Morgoth, and Beren slunk beneath his chair. Then Lúthien dared the most dreadful and most valiant deed that any of the Elves have ever dared; no less than the challenge of Fingolfin is it accounted, and may be greater, save that she was half-divine. She cast off her disguise and named her own name, and feigned that she was brought captive by the wolves of Thû. And she beguiled Morgoth, even as his heart plotted foul evil within him; and she danced before him, and cast all his court in sleep; and she sang to him, and she flung the magic robe she had woven in Doriath in his face, and she set a binding dream upon him—what song can sing the marvel of that deed, or the wrath and humiliation of Morgoth, for even the Orcs laugh in secret when they remember it, telling how Morgoth fell from his chair and his iron crown rolled upon the floor.
Then forth leaped Beren casting aside the wolvish robe, and drew out the knife of Curufin. With that he cut forth a Silmaril. But daring more he essayed to gain them all. Then the knife of the treacherous Dwarves snapped, and the ringing sound of it stirred the sleeping hosts and Morgoth groaned. Terror seized the hearts of Beren and Lúthien, and they fled down the dark ways of Angband. The doors were barred by Carcharas, now aroused from the spell of Lúthien. Beren set himself before Lúthien, which proved ill; for ere she could touch the wolf with her robe or speak word of magic, he sprang upon Beren, who now had no weapon. With his right he smote at the eyes of Carcharas, but the wolf took the hand into his jaws and bit it off. Now that hand held the Silmaril. Then was the maw of Carcharas burned with a fire of anguish and torment, when the Silmaril touched his evil flesh; and he fled howling from before them, so that all the mountains shuddered, and the madness of the wolf of Angband was of all the horrors that ever came into the North the most dire and terrible. Hardly did Lúthien and Beren escape, ere all Angband was aroused.
Of their wanderings and despair, and of the healing of Beren, who ever since has been called Beren Ermabwed the One-handed, of their rescue by Huan, who had vanished suddenly from them ere they came to Angband, and of their coming to Doriath once more, here there is little to tell. But in Doriath many things had befallen. Ever things had gone ill there since Lúthien fled away. Grief had fallen on all the people and silence on their songs when their hunting found her not. Long was the search, and in searching Dairon the piper of Doriath was lost, who loved Lúthien before Beren came to Doriath. He was the greatest of the musicians of the Elves, save Maglor son of Fëanor, and Tinfang Warble. But he came never back to Doriath and strayed into the East of the world.
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br /> Assaults too there were on Doriath’s borders, for rumours that Lúthien was astray had reached Angband. Boldog the captain of the Orcs was there slain in battle by Thingol, and his great warriors Beleg the Bowman and Mablung Heavyhand were with Thingol in that battle. Thus Thingol learned that Lúthien was yet free of Morgoth, but that he knew of her wandering; and Thingol was filled with fear. In the midst of his fear came the embassy of Celegorm in secret, and said that Beren was dead, and Felagund, and Lúthien was at Nargothrond. Then Thingol found it in his heart to regret the death of Beren, and his wrath was aroused at the hinted treachery of Celegorm to the house of Finrod, and because he kept Lúthien and did not send her home. Wherefore he sent spies into the land of Nargothrond and prepared for war. But he learned that Lúthien had fled and that Celegorm and his brother were gone to Aglon. So now he sent an embassy to Aglon, since his might was not great enough to fall upon all the seven brothers, nor was his quarrel with others than Celegorm and Curufin. But this embassy journeying in the woods met with the onslaught of Carcharas. That great wolf had run in madness through all the woods of the North, and death and devastation went with him. Mablung alone escaped to bear the news of his coming to Thingol. Of fate, or the magic of the Silmaril that he bore to his torment, he was not stayed by the spells of Melian, but burst into the inviolate woods of Doriath, and far and wide terror and destruction was spread.
Even as the sorrows of Doriath were at their worst came Lúthien and Beren and Huan back to Doriath. Then the heart of Thingol was lightened, but he looked not with love upon Beren in whom he saw the cause of all his woes. When he had learned how Beren had escaped from Thû he was amazed, but he said: ‘Mortal, what of thy quest and of thy vow?’ Then said Beren: ‘Even now I have a Silmaril in my hand.’ ‘Show it to me,’ said Thingol. ‘That I cannot,’ said Beren, ‘for my hand is not here.’ And all the tale he told, and made clear the cause of the madness of Carcharas, and Thingol’s heart was softened by his brave words, and his forbearance, and the great love that he saw between his daughter and this most valiant Man.
Now therefore did they plan the wolf-hunt of Carcharas. In that hunt was Huan and Thingol and Mablung and Beleg and Beren and no more. And here the sad tale of it must be short, for it is elsewhere told more fully. Lúthien remained behind in foreboding, as they went forth; and well she might, for Carcharas was slain, but Huan died in the same hour, and he died to save Beren. Yet Beren was hurt to the death, but lived to place the Silmaril in the hands of Thingol, when Mablung had cut it from the belly of the wolf. Then he spoke not again, until they had borne him with Huan at his side back to the doors of Thingol’s halls. There beneath the beech, wherein before she had been imprisoned, Lúthien met them, and kissed Beren ere his spirit departed to the halls of awaiting. So ended the long tale of Lúthien and Beren. But not yet was The Lay of Leithian, release from bondage, told in full. For it has long been said that Lúthien failed and faded swiftly and vanished from the earth, though some songs say that Melian summoned Thorondor, and he bore her living unto Valinor. And she came to the halls of Mandos, and she sang to him a tale of moving love so fair that he was moved to pity, as never has befallen since. Beren he summoned, and thus, as Lúthien had sworn as she kissed him at the hour of death, they met beyond the western sea. And Mandos suffered them to depart, but he said that Lúthien should become mortal even as her lover, and should leave the earth once more in the manner of mortal women, and her beauty become but a memory of song. So it was, but it is said that in recompense Mandos gave to Beren and to Lúthien thereafter a long span of life and joy, and they wandered knowing thirst nor cold in the fair land of Beleriand, and no mortal Man thereafter spoke to Beren or his spouse.
Beren and Lúthien Page 10
