Beren and Lúthien

280the robber-knave. If tales be true, he had it of some elvish lord,

for the rogue-service of his sword.

No help it gave him—he’s dead.

They’re parlous, elvish rings, ’tis said; 285still for the gold I’ll keep it, yea and so eke out my niggard pay.

Old Sauron bade me bring it back,

and yet, methinks, he has no lack

of weightier treasures in his hoard:

290the greater the greedier the lord!

So mark ye, mates, ye all shall swear

the hand of Barahir was bare!’

And as he spoke an arrow sped

from tree behind, and forward dead

295choking he fell with barb in throat; with leering face the earth he smote.

Forth then as wolfhound grim there leapt

Beren among them. Two he swept

aside with sword; caught up the ring;

300slew one who grasped him; with a spring back into shadow passed, and fled

before their yells of wrath and dread

of ambush in the valley rang.

Then after him like wolves they sprang, 305howling and cursing, gnashing teeth, hewing and bursting through the heath,

shooting wild arrows, sheaf on sheaf,

at trembling shade or shaken leaf.

In fateful hour was Beren born:

310he laughed at dart and wailing horn; fleetest of foot of living men,

tireless on fell and light on fen,

elf-wise in wood, he passed away,

defended by his hauberk grey,

315of dwarvish craft in Nogrod made, where hammers rang in cavern’s shade.

As fearless Beren was renowned:

when men most hardy upon ground

were reckoned folk would speak his name, 320foretelling that his after-name would even golden Hador pass

or Barahir and Bregolas;

but sorrow now his heart had wrought

to fierce despair, no more he fought

325in hope of life or joy or praise, but seeking so to use his days

only that Morgoth deep should feel

the sting of his avenging steel,

ere death he found and end of pain:

330his only fear was thraldom’s chain.

Danger he sought and death pursued,

and thus escaped the doom he wooed,

and deeds of breathless daring wrought

alone, of which the rumour brought

335new hope to many a broken man.

They whispered ‘Beren’, and began

in secret swords to whet, and soft

by shrouded hearths at evening oft

songs they would sing of Beren’s bow,

340of Dagmor his sword: how he would go silent to camps and slay the chief,

or trapped in his hiding past belief

would slip away, and under night

by mist or moon, or by the light

345of open day would come again.

Of hunters hunted, slayers slain

they sang, of Gorgol the Butcher hewn,

of ambush in Ladros, fire in Dr?n,

of thirty in one battle dead,

350of wolves that yelped like curs and fled, yea, Sauron himself with wound in hand.

Thus one alone filled all that land

with fear and death for Morgoth’s folk; his comrades were the beech and oak

355who failed him not, and wary things with fur and fell and feathered wings

that silent wander, or dwell alone

in hill and wild and waste of stone

watched o’er his ways, his faithful friends.

360Yet seldom well an outlaw ends; and Morgoth was a king more strong

than all the world has since in song

recorded: dark athwart the land

reached out the shadow of his hand,

365at each recoil returned again; two more were sent for one foe slain.

New hope was cowed, all rebels killed;

quenched were the fires, the songs were stilled, tree felled, hearth burned, and through the waste 370marched the black host of Orcs in haste.

Almost they closed their ring of steel

round Beren; hard upon his heel

now trod their spies; within their hedge of all aid shorn, upon the edge

375of death at bay he stood aghast and knew that he must die at last,

or flee the land of Barahir,

his land beloved. Beside the mere

beneath a heap of nameless stones

380must crumble those once mighty bones, forsaken by both son and kin,

bewailed by reeds of Aeluin.

In winter’s night the houseless North

he left behind, and stealing forth

385the leaguer of his watchful foe he passed—a shadow on the snow,

a swirl of wind, and he was gone,

the ruin of Dorthonion,

Tarn Aeluin and its water wan,

390never again to look upon.

No more shall hidden bowstring sing,

no more his shaven arrows wing,

no more his hunted head shall lie

upon the heath beneath the sky.

395The Northern stars, whose silver fire of old Men named the Burning Briar,

were set behind his back, and shone

o’er land forsaken; he was gone.

Southward he turned, and south away

400his long and lonely journey lay, while ever loomed before his path

the dreadful peaks of Gorgorath.

Never had foot of man most bold

yet trod those mountains steep and cold, 405nor climbed upon their sudden brink, whence, sickened, eyes must turn and shrink to see their southward cliffs fall sheer in rocky pinnacle and pier

down into shadows that were laid

410before the sun and moon were made.

In valleys woven with deceit

and washed with waters bitter-sweet

dark magic lurked in gulf and glen;

but out away beyond the ken

415of mortal sight the eagle’s eye from dizzy towers that pierced the sky

might grey and gleaming see afar,

as sheen on water under star,

Beleriand, Beleriand,

420the borders of the Elven-land.





FOOTNOTES



Preface


* ‘The Lost Tales’ is the name of the original versions of the legends of The Silmarillion.





The Return of Beren and Lúthien According to the Quenta Noldorinwa


* A later version of the story concerning the Nauglamír told that it had been made by craftsmen of the Dwarves long before for Felagund, and that it was the sole treasure that Húrin brought from Nargothrond and gave to Thingol. The task that Thingol then set the Dwarves was to remake the Nauglamír and in it to set the Silmaril that was in his possession. This is the form of the story in the published Silmarillion.

* The manner of Lúthien’s death is marked for correction; subsequently my father wrote against it: ‘Yet it hath been sung that Lúthien alone of Elves hath been numbered among our race, and goeth whither we go to a fate beyond the world.’





Extract from the Lost Tale of the Nauglafring


* Earlier in the tale, when Naugladur was preparing to leave Menegroth, he declared that Gwendelin the queen of Artanor (Melian) must go with him to Nogrod: to which she replied: ‘Thief and murderer, child of Melko, yet art thou a fool, for thou canst not see what hangs over thine own head.’





LIST OF NAMES IN THE ORIGINAL TEXTS