The Lays of Beleriand (26 page)

Colodhinand is incidentally interesting as showing Colodh, the later Sindarin equivalent of Quenya Noldo (in the old Gnomish dictionary Golda was the Gnomish equivalent of 'Elvish' Noldo, I. 262). Geleriand I can cast no light on; but Belaurien is obviously connected with Belaurin, the Gnomish form of Pahirien (I. 264), and Bladorinand with Palurien's name Bladorwen 'the wide earth, Mother Earth' (ibid.).

It seems at least possible that Belaurien lies behind Beleriand (which was afterwards explained quite differently).

Another curious feature is the word beyond in They dwelt beyond Broseliand, the reading of B(1) at line 41, where A has in and B(2) has amid.

Esga(l)duin, Taur-na-Fuin (for Taur Fuin of the Lost Tales), and the Thousand Caves have all appeared in The Children of Hurin; but in the mountains that

to East in peaks of blue were piled

in silence folded, mist-enfurled

- lines that are absent from A and B(1) - we have the first appearance of the Blue Mountains (Ered Luin) of the later legends: fencing Beleriand, as it seems, from the Outer World.

In all the texts of the first Canto the King of the woodland Elves is presented as possessing great wealth. This conception appears already in The Children of Hurin (see p. 26), in the most marked contrast to all that is told in the Lost Tales: cf. the Tale of Turambar (II. 95) 'the folk of Tinwelint were of the woodlands and had scant wealth', 'his riches were small', and the Tale of the Nauglafring (II. 227) 'A golden crown (* On the earliest 'Silmarillion' map it is said that 'all the lands watered by Sirion south of Gondolin are called in English "Broseliand" '.) they [the Dwarves] made for Tinwelint, who yet had worn nought but a wreath of scarlet leaves.'

II.

Far in the North neath hills of stone

in caverns black there was a throne 100

by fires illumined underground,

that winds of ice with moaning sound

made flare and flicker in dark smoke;

the wavering bitter coils did choke

the sunless airs of dungeons deep 105

where evil things did crouch and creep.

There sat a king: no Elfin race

nor mortal blood, nor kindly grace

of earth or heaven might he own,

far older, stronger than the stone 110

the world is built of, than the fire

that burns within more fierce and dire;

and thoughts profound were in his heart:

a gloomy power that dwelt apart.

Unconquerable spears of steel 115

were at his nod. No ruth did feel

the legions of his marshalled hate,

on whom did wolf and raven wait;

and black the ravens sat and cried

upon their banners black, and wide 120

was heard their hideous chanting dread

above the reek and trampled dead.

With fire and sword his ruin red

on all that would not bow the head

like lightning fell. The Northern land 125

lay groaning neath his ghastly hand.

But still there lived in hiding cold

undaunted, Barahir the bold,

of land bereaved, of lordship shorn,

who once a prince of Men was born 130

and now an outlaw lurked and lay

in the hard heath and woodland grey,

and with him clung of faithful men

but Beren his son and other ten.

Yet small as was their hunted band 135

still fell and fearless was each hand,

and strong deeds they wrought yet oft,

and loved the woods, whose ways more soft

them seemed than thralls of that black throne to live and languish in halls of stone. 140

King Morgoth still pursued them sore

with men and dogs, and wolf and boar

with spells of madness filled he sent

to slay them as in the woods they went;

yet nought hurt them for many years, '45

until, in brief to tell what tears

have oft bewailed in ages gone,

nor ever tears enough, was done

a deed unhappy; unaware

their feet were caught in Morgoth's snare. 150

Gorlim it was, who wearying

of toil and flight and harrying,

one night by chance did turn his feet

o'er the dark fields by stealth to meet

with hidden friend within a dale, 155

and found a homestead looming pale

against the misty stars, all dark

save one small window, whence a spark

of fitful candle strayed without.

Therein he peeped, and filled with doubt 160

he saw, as in a dreaming deep

when longing cheats the heart in sleep,

his wife beside a dying fire

lament him lost; her thin attire

and greying hair and paling cheek 165

of tears and loneliness did speak.

'A! fair and gentle Eilinel,

whom I had thought in darkling hell

long since emprisoned! Ere I fled

I deemed I saw thee slain and dead 170

upon that night of sudden fear

when all I lost that I held dear':

thus thought his heavy heart amazed

outside in darkness as he gazed.

But ere he dared to call her name, 175

or ask how she escaped and came

to this far vale beneath the hills,

he heard a cry beneath the hills!

There hooted near a hunting owl

with boding voice. He heard the howl 180

of the wild wolves that followed him

and dogged his feet through shadows dim.

Him unrelenting, well he knew,

the hunt of Morgoth did pursue.

Lest Eilinel with him they slay 185

without a word he turned away,

and like a wild thing winding led

his devious ways o'er stony bed

of stream, and over quaking fen,

until far from the homes of men 190

he lay beside his fellows few

in a secret place; and darkness grew,

and waned, and still he watched unsleeping,

and saw the dismal dawn come creeping

in dank heavens above gloomy trees. 195

A sickness held his soul for ease,

and hope, and even thraldom's chain

if he might find his wife again.

But all he thought twixt love of lord

and hatred of the king abhorred 200

and anguish for fair Eilinel

who drooped alone, what tale shall tell?

Yet at the last, when many days

of brooding did his mind amaze,

he found the servants of the king, 205

and bade them to their master bring

a rebel who forgiveness sought,

if haply forgiveness might be bought

with tidings of Barahir the bold,

and where his hidings and his hold 210

might best be found by night or day.

And thus sad Gorlim, led away

unto those dark deep-dolven halls,

before the knees of Morgoth falls,

and puts his trust in that cruel heart 215

wherein no truth had ever part.

Quoth Morgoth: 'Eilinel the fair

thou shalt most surely find, and there

where she doth dwell and wait for thee

together shall ye ever be, 220

and sundered shall ye sigh no more.

This guerdon shall he have that bore

these tidings sweet, 0 traitor dear!

For Eilinel she dwells not here,

but in the shades of death doth roam 225

widowed of husband and of home -

a wraith of that which might have been,

methinks, it is that thou hast seen!

Now shalt thou through the gates of pain

the land thou askest grimly gain; 230

thou shalt to the moonless mists of hell

descend and seek thy Eilinel.'

Thus Gorlim died a bitter death

and cursed himself with dying breath,

and Barahir was caught and slain, 235

and all good deeds were made in vain.

But Morgoth's guile for ever failed,

nor wholly o'er his foes prevailed,

and some were ever that still fought

unmaking that which malice wrought. 240

Thus men believed that Morgoth made

the fiendish phantom that betrayed

the soul of Gorlim, and so brought

the lingering hope forlorn to nought

that lived amid the lonely wood; 245

yet Beren had by fortune good

long hunted far afield that day,

and benighted in strange places lay

far from his fellows. In his sleep

he felt a dreadful darkness creep 250

upon his heart, and thought the trees

were bare and bent in mournful breeze;

no leaves they had, but ravens dark

sat thick as leaves on bough and bark,

and croaked, and as they croaked each neb 255

let fall a gout of blood; a web

unseen entwined him hand and limb,

until worn out, upon the rim

of stagnant pool he lay and shivered.

There saw he that a shadow quivered 260

far out upon the water wan,

and grew to a faint form thereon

that glided o'er the silent lake,

and coming slowly, softly spake

and sadly said: 'Lo! Gorlim here, 265

traitor betrayed, now stands! Nor fear,

but haste! For Morgoth's fingers close

upon thy father's throat. He knows

your secret tryst, your hidden lair',

and all the evil he laid bare 270

that he had done and Morgoth wrought.

Then Beren waking swiftly sought

his sword and bow, and sped like wind

that cuts with knives the branches thinned

of autumn trees. At last he came, 275

his heart afire with burning flame,

where Barahir his father lay;

he came too late. At dawn of day

he found the homes of hunted men,

a wooded island in the fen, 280

and birds rose up in sudden cloud -

no fen-fowl were they crying loud.

The raven and the carrion-crow

sat in the alders all a-row;

one croaked: 'Ha! Beren comes too late', 285

and answered all: 'Too late! Too late! '

There Beren buried his father's bones,

and piled a heap of boulder-stones,

and cursed the name of Morgoth thrice,

but wept not, for his heart was ice. 290

Then over fen and field and mountain

he followed, till beside a fountain

upgushing hot from fires below

he found the slayers and his foe,

the murderous soldiers of the king. 295

And one there laughed, and showed a ring

he took from Barahir's dead hand.

'This ring in far Beleriand,

now mark ye, mates,' he said, 'was wrought.

Its like with gold could not be bought, 300 -

for this same Barahir I slew,

this robber fool, they say, did do

a deed of service long ago

for Felagund. It may be so;

for Morgoth bade me bring it back, 305

and yet, methinks, he has no lack

of weightier treasure in his hoard.

Such greed befits not such a lord,

and I am minded to declare

the hand of Barahir was bare! ' 310

Yet as he spake an arrow sped;

with riven heart he crumpled dead.

Thus Morgoth loved that his own foe

should in his service deal the blow

that punished the breaking of his word. 315

But Morgoth laughed not when he heard

that Beren like a wolf alone

sprang madly from behind a stone

amid that camp beside the well,

and seized the ring, and ere the yell 320

of wrath and rage had left their throat

had fled his foes. His gleaming coat

was made of rings of steel no shaft

could pierce, a web of dwarvish craft;

and he was lost in rock and thorn, 325

for in charmed hour was Beren born;

their hungry hunting never learned

the way his fearless feet had turned.

As fearless Beren was renowned,

as man most hardy upon ground, 330

while Barahir yet lived and fought;

but sorrow now his soul had wrought

to dark despair, and robbed his life

of sweetness, that he longed for knife,

or shaft, or sword, to end his pain, 335

and dreaded only thraldom's chain.

Danger he sought and death pursued,

and thus escaped the fate he wooed,

and deeds of breathless wonder dared

whose whispered glory widely fared, 340

and softly songs were sung at eve

of marvels he did once achieve

alone, beleaguered, lost at night

by mist or moon, or neath the light

of the broad eye of day. The woods 345

that northward looked with bitter feuds

he filled and death for Morgoth's folk;

his comrades were the beech and oak,

who failed him not, and many things

with fur and fell and feathered wings; 350

and many spirits, that in stone

in mountains old and wastes alone,

do dwell and wander, were his friends.

Yet seldom well an outlaw ends,

and Morgoth was a king more strong 355

than all the world has since in song

recorded, and his wisdom wide

slow and surely who him defied

did hem and hedge. Thus at the last

must Beren flee the forest fast 360

and lands he loved where lay his sire

by reeds bewailed beneath the mire.

Beneath a heap of mossy stones

now crumble those once mighty bones,

but Beren flees the friendless North 365