‘A! Beren, Beren hast not learned
345that promises of Morgoth’s folk
are frail as breath. From this dark yoke
of pain shall neither ever go,
whether he learn our names or no,
with Thû’s consent. Nay more, I think
350yet deeper of torment we should drink,
knew he that son of Barahir
and Felagund were captive here,
and even worse if he should know
the dreadful errand we did go.’
355A devil’s laugh they ringing heard
within their pit. ‘True, true the word
I hear you speak,’ a voice then said.
‘’Twere little loss if he were dead,
the outlaw mortal. But the king,
360the Elf undying, many a thing
no man could suffer may endure.
Perchance, when what these walls immure
of dreadful anguish thy folk learn,
their king to ransom they will yearn
365with gold and gem and high hearts cowed;
or maybe Celegorm the proud
will deem a rival’s prison cheap,
and crown and gold himself will keep.
Perchance, the errand I shall know,
370ere all is done, that ye did go.
The wolf is hungry, the hour is nigh;
no more need Beren wait to die.’
The slow time passed. Then in the gloom
two eyes there glowed. He saw his doom,
375Beren, silent, as his bonds he strained
beyond his mortal might enchained.
Lo! sudden there was rending sound
of chains that parted and unwound,
of meshes broken. Forth there leaped
380upon the wolvish thing that crept
in shadow faithful Felagund,
careless of fang or mortal wound.
There in the dark they wrestled slow,
remorseless, snarling, to and fro,
385teeth in flesh, gripe on throat,
fingers locked in shaggy coat,
spurning Beren who there lying
heard the werewolf gasping, dying.
Then a voice he heard: ‘Farewell!
390On earth I need no longer dwell,
friend and comrade, Beren bold.
My heart is burst, my limbs are cold.
Here all my power I have spent
to break my bonds, and dreadful rent
395of poisoned teeth is in my breast.
I now must go to my long rest
neath Timbrenting in timeless halls
where drink the Gods, where the light falls
upon the shining sea.’ Thus died the king,
400as elvish harpers yet do sing.
There Beren lies. His grief no tear,
his despair no horror has nor fear,
waiting for footsteps, a voice, for doom.
Silences profounder than the tomb
405of long-forgotten kings, neath years
and sands uncounted laid on biers
and buried everlasting-deep,
slow and unbroken round him creep.
The silences were sudden shivered
410to silver fragments. Faint there quivered
a voice in song that walls of rock,
enchanted hill, and bar and lock,
and powers of darkness pierced with light.
He felt about him the soft night
415of many stars, and in the air
were rustlings and a perfume rare;
the nightingales were in the trees,
slim fingers flute and viol seize
beneath the moon, and one more fair
420than all there be or ever were
upon a lonely knoll of stone
in shimmering raiment danced alone.
Then in his dream it seemed he sang,
and loud and fierce his chanting rang,
425old songs of battle in the North,
of breathless deeds, of marching forth
to dare uncounted odds and break
great powers, and towers, and strong walls shake;
and over all the silver fire
430that once Men named the Burning Briar,
the Seven Stars that Varda set
about the North, were burning yet,
a light in darkness, hope in woe,
the emblem vast of Morgoth’s foe.
435‘Huan, Huan! I hear a song
far under welling, far but strong
a song that Beren bore aloft.
I hear his voice, I have heard it oft
in dream and wandering.’ Whispering low
440thus Lúthien spake. On the bridge of woe
in mantle wrapped at dead of night
and to its depth the Wizard’s Isle,
rock upon rock and pile on pile,
445trembling echoed. The werewolves howled,
and Huan hidden lay and growled
watchful listening in the dark,
waiting for battle cruel and stark.
Thû heard that voice, and sudden stood
450wrapped in his cloak and sable hood
in his high tower. He listened long,
and smiled, and knew that elvish song.
‘A! little Lúthien! What brought
the foolish fly to web unsought?
455Morgoth! a great and rich reward
to me thou wilt owe when to thy hoard
this jewel is added.’ Down he went,
and forth his messengers he sent.
Still Lúthien sang. A creeping shape
460with bloodred tongue and jaws agape
stole on the bridge; but she sang on
with trembling limbs and wide eyes wan.
The creeping shape leaped to her side,
and gasped, and sudden fell and died.
465And still they came, still one by one,
and each was seized, and there were none
returned with padding feet to tell
that a shadow lurketh fierce and fell
at the bridge’s end, and that below
470the shuddering waters loathing flow
o’er the grey corpses Huan killed.
A mightier shadow slowly filled
the narrow bridge, a slavering hate,
an awful werewolf fierce and great:
475pale Draugluin, the old grey lord
of wolves and beasts of blood abhorred,
that fed on flesh of Man and Elf
beneath the chair of Thû himself.
No more in silence did they fight.
480Howling and baying smote the night,
till back by the chair where he had fed
to die the werewolf yammering fled.
‘Huan is there’ he gasped and died,
and Thû was filled with wrath and pride.
485‘Before the mightiest he shall fall,
before the mightiest wolf of all’,
so thought he now, and thought he knew
how fate long spoken should come true.
Now there came slowly forth and glared
490into the night a shape long-haired,
dank with poison, with awful eyes
wolvish, ravenous; but there lies
a light therein more cruel and dread
than ever wolvish eyes had fed.
495More huge were its limbs, its jaws more wide,
its fangs more gleaming-sharp, and dyed
with venom, torment, and with death.
The deadly vapour of its breath
swept on before it. Swooning dies
500the song of Lúthien, and her eyes
are dimmed and darkened with a fear,
cold and poisonous and drear.
Thus came Thû, as wolf more great
than e’er was seen from Angband’s gate
505to the burning south, t
han ever lurked
in mortal lands or murder worked.
Sudden he sprang, and Huan leaped
aside in shadow. On he swept
to Lúthien lying swooning faint.
510To her drowning senses came the taint
of his foul breathing, and she stirred;
dizzily she spake a whispered word,
her mantle brushed across his face.
He stumbled staggering in his pace.
515Out leaped Huan. Back he sprang.
Beneath the stars there shuddering rang
the cry of hunting wolves at bay,
the tongue of hounds that fearless slay.
Backward and forth they leaped and ran
520feinting to flee, and round they span,
and bit and grappled, and fell and rose.
Then suddenly Huan holds and throws
his ghastly foe; his throat he rends,
choking his life. Not so it ends.
525From shape to shape, from wolf to worm,
from monster to his own demon form,
Thû changes, but that desperate grip
he cannot shake, nor from it slip.
No wizardry, nor spell, nor dart,
530no fang, nor venom, nor devil’s art
could harm that hound that hart and boar
had hunted once in Valinor.
Nigh the foul spirit Morgoth made
and bred of evil shuddering strayed
535from its dark house, when Lúthien rose
and shivering looked upon his throes.
‘O demon dark, O phantom vile
of foulness wrought, of lies and guile,
here shalt thou die, thy spirit roam
540quaking back to thy master’s home
his scorn and fury to endure;
thee he will in the bowels immure
of groaning earth, and in a hole
everlastingly thy naked soul
545shall wail and gibber—this shall be
unless the keys thou render me
of thy black fortress, and the spell
that bindeth stone to stone thou tell,
and speak the words of opening.’
550With gasping breath and shuddering
he spake, and yielded as he must,
and vanquished betrayed his master’s trust.
Lo! by the bridge a gleam of light,
like stars descended from the night
555to burn and tremble here below.
There wide her arms did Lúthien throw,
and called aloud with voice as clear
as still at whiles may mortal hear
long elvish trumpets o’er the hill
560echo, when all the world is still.
The dawn peered over mountains wan;
their grey heads silent looked thereon.
The hill trembled; the citadel
crumbled, and all its towers fell;
565the rocks yawned and the bridge broke,
and Sirion spumed in sudden smoke.
Like ghosts the owls were flying seen
hooting in the dawn, and bats unclean
went skimming dark through the cold airs
570shrieking thinly to find new lairs
in Deadly Nightshade’s branches dread.
The wolves whimpering and yammering fled
like dusky shadows. Out there creep
pale forms and ragged as from sleep.
575crawling, and shielding blinded eyes:
the captives in fear and in surprise
from dolour long in clinging night
beyond all hope set free to light.
A vampire shape with pinions vast
580screeching leaped from the ground, and passed,
its dark blood dripping on the trees;
and Huan neath him lifeless sees
a wolvish corpse—for Thû had flown
to Taur-na-Fuin, a new throne
585and darker stronghold there to build.
The captives came and wept and shrilled
their piteous cries of thanks and praise.
But Lúthien anxious-gazing stays.
Beren comes not. At length she said:
590‘Huan, Huan, among the dead
must we then find him whom we sought,
for love of whom we toiled and fought?’
Then side by side from stone to stone
o’er Sirion they climbed. Alone
595unmoving they him found, who mourned
by Felagund, and never turned
to see what feet drew halting nigh.
‘A! Beren, Beren!’ came her cry,
‘almost too late have I thee found?
600Alas! that here upon the ground
the noblest of the noble race
in vain thy anguish doth embrace!
Alas! in tears that we should meet
who once found meeting passing sweet!’
605Her voice such love and longing filled
he raised his eyes, his mourning stilled,
and felt his heart new-turned to flame
for her that through peril to him came.
‘O Lúthien, O Lúthien,
610more fair than any child of Men,
O loveliest maid of Elfinesse,
what might of love did thee possess
to bring thee here to terror’s lair!
O lissom limbs and shadowy hair,
615O flower-entwinéd brows so white,
O slender hands in this new light!’
She found his arms and swooned away
just at the rising of the day.
******
Songs have recalled the Elves have sung
620in old forgotten elven tongue
how Lúthien and Beren strayed
by the banks of Sirion. Many a glade
they filled with joy, and there their feet
passed by lightly, and days were sweet.
625Though winter hunted through the wood
still flowers lingered where she stood.
Tinúviel! Tinúviel!
the birds are unafraid to dwell
and sing beneath the peaks of snow
630where Beren and where Lúthien go.
The isle in Sirion they left behind;
but there on hill-top might one find
a green grave, and a stone set,
and there there lie the white bones yet
635of Felagund, of Finrod’s son—
unless that land is changed and gone,
or foundered in unfathomed seas,
while Felagund laughs beneath the trees
in Valinor, and comes no more
640to this grey world of tears and war.
To Nargothrond no more he came;
but thither swiftly ran the fame,
of their king dead, of Thû o’erthrown,
of the breaking of the towers of stone.
645For many now came home at last
who long ago to shadow passed;
and like a shadow had returned
Huan the hound, and scant had earned
or praise or thanks of master wroth;
650yet loyal he was, though he was loath.
The halls of Narog clamours fill
that vainly Celegorm would still.
There men bewailed their fallen king,
crying that a maiden dared that thing
655which sons of Fëanor would not do.
‘Let us slay these faithless lords untrue!’
the fickle folk now loudly cried
with Felagund who would not ride.
Orodreth spake: ‘The kingdom now
660is mine alone. I will allow
no spilling of kindred blood by kin.
But bread nor rest shall find herein
these brothers who have set at nought
the house of Finrod.’ They were brought.
665Scornful, unbowed, and unashamed
stood Celegorm. In his eye t
here flamed
a light of menace. Curufin
smiled with his crafty mouth and thin.
‘Be gone for ever—ere the day
670shall fall into the sea. Your way
shall never lead you hither more,
nor any son of Fëanor;
nor ever after shall be bond
of love twixt yours and Nargothrond.’
675‘We will remember it,’ they said,
and turned upon their heels, and sped,
and took their horses and such folk
as still them followed. Nought they spoke
but sounded horns, and rode like fire,
680and went away in anger dire.
Towards Doriath the wanderers now
were drawing nigh. Though bare the bough,
though cold the wind, and grey the grasses
through which the hiss of winter passes,
685they sang beneath the frosty sky
uplifted o’er them pale and high.
They came to Mindeb’s narrow stream
that from the hills doth leap and gleam
by western borders where begin
690the spells of Melian to fence in
King Thingol’s land, and stranger steps
to wind bewildered in their webs.
There sudden sad grew Beren’s heart:
‘Alas, Tinúviel, here we part
695and our brief song together ends,
and sundered ways each lonely wends!’
‘Why part we here? What dost thou say,
just at the dawn of brighter day?’
‘For safe thou’rt come to borderlands
700o’er which in the keeping of the hands
of Melian thou wilt walk at ease
and find thy home and well-loved trees.’
‘My heart is glad when the fair trees
far off uprising grey it sees
705of Doriath inviolate.
Yet Doriath my heart did hate,
and Doriath my feet forsook,
my home, my kin. I would not look
on grass nor leaf there evermore
710without thee by me. Dark the shore
of Esgalduin the deep and strong!
Why there alone forsaking song
by endless waters rolling past
must I then hopeless sit at last,
715and gaze at waters pitiless
in heartache and in loneliness?’
‘For never more to Doriath
can Beren find the winding path,
though Thingol willed it or allowed;
720for to thy father there I vowed
to come not back save to fulfill
the quest of the shining Silmaril,
and win by valour my desire.
“Not rock nor steel nor Morgoth’s fire
725nor all the power of Elfinesse,
shall keep the gem I would possess”:
thus swore I once of Lúthien
more fair than any child of Men.
My word, alas! I must achieve,
730though sorrow pierce and parting grieve.’
‘Then Lúthien will not go home,