Beren and Lúthien

Home > Fantasy > Beren and Lúthien > Page 13
Beren and Lúthien Page 13

by J. R. R. Tolkien


  but weeping in the woods will roam,

  nor peril heed, nor laughter know.

  And if she may not by thee go

  735against thy will thy desperate feet

  she will pursue, until they meet,

  Beren and Lúthien, love once more

  on earth or on the shadowy shore.’

  ‘Nay, Lúthien, most brave of heart,

  740thou makest it more hard to part.

  Thy love me drew from bondage drear,

  but never to that outer fear,

  that darkest mansion of all dread,

  shall thy most blissful light be led.’

  745‘Never, never!’ he shuddering said.

  But even as in his arms she pled,

  a sound came like a hurrying storm.

  There Curufin and Celegorm

  in sudden tumult like the wind

  750rode up. The hooves of horses dinned

  loud on the earth. In rage and haste

  madly northward they now raced

  the path twixt Doriath to find

  and the shadows dreadly dark entwined

  755of Taur-na-fuin. That was their road

  most swift to where their kin abode

  in the east, where Himling’s watchful hill

  o’er Aglon’s gorge hung tall and still.

  They saw the wanderers. With a shout

  760straight on them swung their hurrying rout

  as if neath maddened hooves to rend

  the lovers and their love to end.

  But as they came their horses swerved

  with nostrils wide and proud necks curved;

  765Curufin, stooping, to saddlebow

  with mighty arm did Lúthien throw,

  and laughed. Too soon; for there a spring

  fiercer than tawny lion-king

  maddened with arrows barbéd smart,

  770greater than any hornéd hart

  that hounded to a gulf leaps o’er,

  there Beren gave, and with a roar

  leaped on Curufin; round his neck

  his arms entwined, and all to wreck

  775both horse and rider fell to ground;

  and there they fought without a sound.

  Dazed in the grass did Lúthien lie

  beneath bare branches and the sky;

  the Gnome felt Beren’s fingers grim

  780close on his throat and strangle him,

  and out his eyes did start, and tongue

  gasping from his mouth there hung.

  Up rode Celegorm with his spear,

  and bitter death was Beren near.

  785With elvish steel he nigh was slain

  whom Lúthien won from hopeless chain,

  but baying Huan sudden sprang

  before his master’s face with fang

  white-gleaming, and with bristling hair,

  790as if he on boar or wolf did stare.

  The horse in terror leaped aside,

  and Celegorm in anger cried:

  ‘Curse thee, thou baseborn dog, to dare

  against thy master teeth to bare!’

  795But dog nor horse nor rider bold

  would venture near the anger cold

  of mighty Huan fierce at bay.

  Red were his jaws. They shrank away,

  and fearful eyed him from afar:

  800nor sword nor knife, nor scimitar,

  no dart of bow, nor cast of spear,

  master nor man did Huan fear.

  There Curufin had left his life,

  had Lúthien not stayed that strife.

  805Waking she rose and softly cried

  standing distressed at Beren’s side:

  ‘Forbear thy anger now, my lord!

  nor do the work of Orcs abhorred;

  for foes there be of Elfinesse,

  810unnumbered, and they grow not less,

  while here we war by ancient curse

  distraught, and all the world to worse

  decays and crumbles. Make thy peace!’

  Then Beren did Curufin release;

  815but took his horse and coat of mail

  and took his knife there gleaming pale,

  hanging sheathless, wrought of steel.

  No flesh could leeches ever heal

  that point had pierced; for long ago

  820the dwarves had made it, singing slow

  enchantments, where their hammers fell

  in Nogrod ringing like a bell.

  Iron as tender wood it cleft,

  and sundered mail like woollen weft.

  825But other hands its haft now held;

  its master lay by mortal felled.

  Beren uplifting him, far him flung,

  and cried ‘Begone!’, with stinging tongue;

  ‘Begone! thou renegade and fool,

  830and let thy lust in exile cool!

  Arise and go, and no more work

  like Morgoth’s slaves or curséd Orc;

  and deal, proud son of Fëanor,

  in deeds more proud than heretofore!’

  835Then Beren led Lúthien away,

  while Huan still there stood at bay.

  ‘Farewell,’ cried Celegorm the fair.

  ‘Far get you gone! And better were

  to die forhungered in the waste

  840than wrath of Fëanor’s sons to taste,

  that yet may reach o’er dale and hill.

  No gem, nor maid, nor Silmaril

  shall ever long in thy grasp lie!

  We curse thee under cloud and sky,

  845we curse thee from rising unto sleep!

  Farewell!’ He swift from horse did leap,

  his brother lifted from the ground;

  then bow of yew with gold wire bound

  he strung, and shaft he shooting sent,

  850as heedless hand in hand they went;

  a dwarvish dart and cruelly hooked.

  They never turned nor backward looked.

  Loud bayed Huan, and leaping caught

  the speeding arrow. Quick as thought

  855another followed deadly singing;

  but Beren had turned, and sudden springing

  defended Lúthien with his breast.

  Deep sank the dart in flesh to rest.

  He fell to earth. They rode away,

  860and laughing left him as he lay;

  yet spurred like wind in fear and dread

  of Huan’s pursuing anger red.

  Though Curufin with bruised mouth laughed,

  yet later of that dastard shaft

  865was tale and rumour in the North,

  and Men remembered at the Marching Forth,

  and Morgoth’s will its hatred helped.

  Thereafter never hound was whelped

  would follow horn of Celegorm

  870or Curufin. Though in strife and storm,

  though all their house in ruin red

  went down, thereafter laid his head

  Huan no more at that lord’s feet,

  but followed Lúthien, brave and fleet.

  875Now sank she weeping at the side

  of Beren, and sought to stem the tide

  of welling blood that flowed there fast.

  The raiment from his breast she cast;

  from shoulder plucked the arrow keen;

  880his wound with tears she washed it clean.

  Then Huan came and bore a leaf,

  of all the herbs of healing chief,

  that evergreen in woodland glade

  there grew with broad and hoary blade.

  885The powers of all grasses Huan knew,

  who wide did forest-paths pursue.

  Therewith the smart he swift allayed,

  while Lúthien murmuring in the shade

  the staunching song that Elvish wives

  890long years had sung in those sad lives

  of war and weapons, wove o’er him.

  The shadows fell from mountains grim.

  Then sprang abou
t the darkened North

  the Sickle of the Gods, and forth

  895each star there stared in stony night

  radiant, glistering cold and white.

  But on the ground there is a glow,

  a spark of red that leaps below:

  under woven boughs beside a fire

  900of crackling wood and sputtering briar

  there Beren lies in browsing deep,

  walking and wandering in sleep.

  Watchful bending o’er him wakes

  a maiden fair; his thirst she slakes,

  905his brow caresses, and softly croons

  a song more potent than in runes

  or leeches’ lore hath since been writ.

  Slowly the nightly watches flit.

  The misty morning crawleth grey

  910from dusk to the reluctant day.

  Then Beren woke and opened eyes,

  and rose and cried: ‘Neath other skies,

  in lands more awful and unknown,

  I wandered long, methought, alone

  915to the deep shadow where the dead dwell;

  but ever a voice that I knew well,

  like bells, like viols, like harps, like birds,

  like music moving without words,

  called me, called me through the night,

  920enchanted drew me back to light!

  Healed the wound, assuaged the pain!

  Now are we come to morn again,

  new journeys once more lead us on—

  to perils whence may life be won,

  925hardly for Beren; and for thee

  a waiting in the wood I see

  beneath the trees of Doriath,

  while ever follow down my path

  the echoes of thine elvish song,

  930where hills are haggard and roads are long.’

  ‘Nay, now no more we have for foe

  dark Morgoth only, but in woe,

  in wars and feuds of Elfinesse

  thy quest is bound; and death, no less,

  935for thee and me, for Huan bold

  the end of weird of yore foretold,

  all this I bode shall follow swift;

  if thou go on. Thy hand shall lift

  and lay on Thingol’s lap the dire

  940and flaming jewel, Fëanor’s fire,

  never, never! A why then go?

  Why turn we not from fear and woe

  beneath the trees to walk and roam

  roofless, with all the world as home,

  945over mountains, beside the seas,

  in the sunlight, in the breeze?’

  Thus long they spoke with heavy hearts;

  and yet not all her elvish arts

  nor lissom arms, nor shining eyes

  950as tremulous stars in rainy skies,

  nor tender lips, enchanted voice,

  his purpose bent or swayed his choice.

  Never to Doriath would he fare

  save guarded fast to leave her there;

  955never to Nargothrond would go

  with her, lest there came war and woe;

  and never would in the world untrod

  to wander suffer her, worn, unshod

  roofless and restless, whom he drew

  960with love from the hidden realms she knew.

  ‘For Morgoth’s power is now awake;

  already hill and dale doth shake,

  the hunt is up, the prey is wild:

  a maiden lost, an elven child.

  965Now Orcs and phantoms prowl and peer

  from tree to tree, and fill with fear

  each shade and hollow. Thee they seek!

  At thought thereof my hope grows weak,

  my heart is chilled. I curse mine oath,

  970I curse the fate that joined us both

  and snared thy feet in my sad doom

  of flight and wandering in the gloom!

  Now let us haste, and ere the day

  be fallen, take our swiftest way,

  975till o’er the marches of thy land

  beneath the beech and oak we stand,

  in Doriath, fair Doriath

  whither no evil finds the path,

  powerless to pass the listening leaves

  980that droop upon those forest-eaves.’

  Then to his will she seeming bent.

  Swiftly to Doriath they went,

  and crossed its borders. There they stayed

  resting in deep and mossy glade;

  985there lay they sheltered from the wind

  under mighty beeches silken-skinned,

  and sang of love that still shall be,

  though earth be foundered under sea,

  and sundered here for evermore

  990shall meet upon the Western Shore.

  One morning as asleep she lay

  upon the moss, as though the day

  too bitter were for gentle flower

  to open in a sunless hour,

  995Beren arose and kissed her hair,

  and wept, and softly left her there.

  ‘Good Huan,’ said he, ‘guard her well!

  In leafless field no asphodel,

  in thorny thicket never a rose

  1000forlorn, so frail and fragrant blows.

  Guard her from wind and frost, and hide

  from hands that seize and cast aside;

  keep her from wandering and woe,

  for pride and fate now make me go.’

  1005The horse he took and rode away,

  nor dared to turn; but all that day

  with heart as stone he hastened forth

  and took the paths toward the North.

  ******

  Once wide and smooth a plain was spread,

  1010where King Fingolfin proudly led

  his silver armies on the green,

  his horses white, his lances keen;

  his helmets tall of steel were hewn,

  his shields were shining as the moon.

  1015There trumpets sang both long and loud,

  and challenge rang unto the cloud

  that lay on Morgoth’s northern tower,

  while Morgoth waited for his hour.

  Rivers of fire at dead of night

  1020in winter lying cold and white

  upon the plain burst forth, and high

  the red was mirrored in the sky.

  From Hithlum’s walls they saw the fire,

  the steam and smoke in spire on spire

  1025leap up, till in confusion vast

  the stars were choked. And so it passed,

  the mighty field, and turned to dust,

  to drifting sand and yellow rust,

  to thirsty dunes where many bones

  1030lay broken among barren stones.

  Dor-na-Fauglith, Land of Thirst,

  they after named it, waste accurst,

  the raven-haunted roofless grave

  of many fair and many brave.

  1035Thereon the stony slopes look forth

  from Deadly Nightshade falling north,

  from sombre pines with pinions vast,

  black-plumed and drear, as many a mast

  of sable-shrouded ships of death

  1040slow wafted on a ghostly breath.

  Thence Beren grim now gazes out

  across the dunes and shifting drought,

  and sees afar the frowning towers

  where thunderous Thangorodrim lowers.

  1045The hungry horse there drooping stood,

  proud Gnomish steed; it feared the wood;

  upon the haunted ghastly plain

  no horse would ever stride again.

  ‘Good steed of master ill,’ he said,

  1050‘farewell now here! Lift up thy head,

  and get thee gone to Sirion’s vale

  back as we came, past island pale

  where Thû once reigned, to waters sweet

  and grasses long about thy feet.

  1055And if Curufin no more thou find,

&n
bsp; grieve not! but free with hart and hind

  go wander, leaving work and war,

  and dream thee back in Valinor,

  whence came of old thy mighty race

  1060from Tavros’ mountain-fencéd chase.’

  There still sat Beren, and he sang

  and loud his lonely singing rang.

  Though Orcs should hear, or wolf a-prowl,

  or any of the creatures foul

  1065within the shade that slunk and stared

  of Taur-na-Fuin, nought he cared

  who now took leave of light and day,

  grim-hearted, bitter, fierce and fey.

  ‘Farewell now here, ye leaves of trees,

  1070your music in the morning-breeze!

  Farewell now blade and bloom and grass

  that see the changing seasons pass;

  ye waters murmuring over stone,

  and meres that silent stand alone!

  1075Farewell now mountain, vale, and plain!

  Farewell now wind and frost and rain,

  and mist and cloud, and heaven’s air;

  ye star and moon so blinding-fair

  that still shall look down from the sky

  1080on the wide earth, though Beren die—

  though Beren die not, and yet deep,

  deep, whence comes of those that weep

  no dreadful echo, lie and choke

  in everlasting dark and smoke.

  1085‘Farewell sweet earth and northern sky,

  for ever blest, since here did lie,

  and here with lissom limbs did run

  beneath the moon, beneath the sun,

  Lúthien Tinúviel

  1090more fair than mortal tongue can tell.

  Though all to ruin fell the world,

  and were dissolved and backward hurled

  unmade into the old abyss,

  yet were its making good, for this—

  1095the dawn, the dusk, the earth, the sea—

  that Lúthien on a time should be!’

  His blade he lifted high in hand,

  and challenging alone did stand

  before the threat of Morgoth’s power;

  1100and dauntless cursed him, hall and tower,

  o’ershadowing hand and grinding foot,

  beginning, end, and crown and root;

  then turned to strike forth down the slope

  abandoning fear, forsaking hope.

  1105‘A, Beren, Beren!’ came a sound,

  ‘almost too late have I thee found!

  O proud and fearless hand and heart,

  not yet farewell, not yet we part!

  Not thus do those of elven race

  1110forsake the love that they embrace.

  A love is mine, as great a power

  as thine, to shake the gate and tower

  of death with challenge weak and frail

  that yet endures, and will not fail

  1115nor yield, unvanquished were it hurled

  beneath the foundations of the world.

  Beloved fool! escape to seek

  from such pursuit; in might so weak

 

‹ Prev