The Lays of Beleriand (16 page)

The text of the opening of the second version is complicated by the existence of two further texts, both extending from lines II. x -- 94. The earlier of these is another typescript (IIC), which takes up emendations made to I IB and is itself emended: the second is a manuscript (I ID) written on 'Oxford' paper (see p. 81 ), which takes up the changes made to IIC and introduces yet further changes. At the beginning of the poem, therefore, we have lines that exhibit a continuous development through six different texts, as for example line 18 in the first version, which is line 34 in the second:

IA. Yet in host upon host the hillfiends, the orcs emended in the manuscript to:

Yet in host upon host the hillfiend orcs

IB. There in host on host the hill-fiend Orcs (* The only external evidence for date (other than the physical nature of the texts, whicb were clearly made at Leeds, not at Oxford) is the fact that a page of IIA is written on the back of a formal letter from The Microcosm (a Leeds literary quarterly, in which my father published the poem The City of the Gods in the Spring 1923 issue, see I. 136) acknowledg-ing receipt of a subscription for 1922; the letter was evidently written in 1923.) IIA. but in host on host from the hills of darkness (with from the hills swarming as an alternative).

IIB. but in host on host from the hills swarming.

IIC.as IIB but emended on the typescript to:

and in host on host from the hills swarming.

IID. In host upon host from the hills swarming.

The majority of the changes throughout the successive texts of the poem were made for metrical reasons -- in the later revisions, especially for the removal of 'little words', to achieve an effect nearer to that of Old English lines, and to get rid of metrical aids such as ed pronounced as a separate syllable; and as I have said, the provision of a full apparatus would be exceedingly lengthy and complex (and in places scarcely possible, for the actual texts are often more obscure than appears in print). For the second version of the poem, therefore, I give the text of I ID (the last one) to its end at line 94 (since the changes from IIB though pervasive are extremely minor), and continue thereafter with IIB (the major typescript of the second version); and as before purely verbal/metrical alterations that have no bearing on the story or on names are not cited in the notes.

IIA has no title; in IIB it was TURIN, then THE CHILDREN OF

HURIN, which is also the title in IIC and I ID.

The 'Prologue', greatly expanded in the second version, is still given no subheading, except that in IIC it is marked 'I'; in IIB Turin's Fostering is a section-heading, to which my father afterwards added 'II'.

THE CHILDREN OF HURIN.

Ye Gods who girt your guarded realms

with moveless pinnacles, mountains pathless,

o'er shrouded shores sheer uprising

of the Bay of Faery on the borders of the World!

Ye Men unmindful of the mirth of yore,

wars and weeping in the worlds of old,

of Morgoth's might remembering nought!

Lo! hear what Elves with ancient harps,

lingering forlorn in lands untrodden,

fading faintly down forest pathways,

in shadowy isles on the Shadowy Seas,

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sing still in sorrow of the son of Hurin,

how his webs of doom were woven dark

with Niniel's sorrow: names most mournful.

A! Hurin Thalion in the hosts of battle

was whelmed in war, when the white banners

of the ruined king were rent with spears,

in blood beaten; when the blazing helm

of Finweg fell in flame of swords,

and his gleaming armies' gold and silver

shields were shaken, shining emblems

in darkling tide of dire hatred,

the cruel Glamhoth's countless legions,

were lost and foundered -- their light was quenched!

That field yet now the folk name it

Nirnaith Ornoth, Unnumbered Tears:

the seven chieftains of the sons of Men

fled there and fought not, the folk of the Elves betrayed with treason. Their troth alone

unmoved remembered in the mouths of Hell

Thalion Erithamrod and his thanes renowned.

Torn and trampled the triple standard

of the house of Hithlum was heaped with slain.

In host upon host from the hills swarming

with hideous arms the hungry Orcs

enmeshed his might, and marred with wounds

pulled down the proud Prince of Mithrim.

At Bauglir's bidding they bound him living;

to the halls of Hell neath the hills builded, to the Mountains of Iron, mournful, gloomy,

they led the lord of the Lands of Mist,

Hurin Thalion, to the throne of hate

in halls upheld with huge pillars

of black basalt. There bats wandered,

worms and serpents enwound the columns;

there Bauglir's breast was burned within

with blazing rage, baulked of purpose:

from his trap had broken Turgon the mighty,

Fingolfin's son; Feanor's children,

the makers of the magic and immortal gems.

For Hurin standing storm unheeding,

unbent in battle, with bitter laughter

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his axe wielded -- as eagle's wings

the sound of its sweep, swinging deadly;

as livid lightning it leaped and fell,

as toppling trunks of trees riven

his foes had fallen. Thus fought he on,

where blades were blunted and in blood foundered the Men of Mithrim; thus a moment stemmed

with sad remnant the raging surge

of ruthless Orcs, and the rear guarded,

that Turgon the terrible towering in anger

a pathway clove with pale falchion

from swirling slaughter. Yea! his swath was plain through the hosts of Hell, as hay that is laid on the lea in lines, where long and keen

goes sweeping scythe. Thus seven kindreds,

a countless company, that king guided

through darkened dales and drear mountains

out of ken of his foes -- he comes no more

in the tale of Turin. Triumph of Morgoth

thus to doubt was turned, dreams of vengeance, thus his mind was moved with malice fathomless, thoughts of darkness, when the Thalion stood

bound, unbending, in his black dungeon.

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Said the dread Lord of Hell: 'Dauntless Hurin, stout steel-handed, stands before me

yet quick a captive, as a coward might be!

Then knows he my name, or needs be told

what hope he has in the halls of iron?

The bale most bitter, Balrogs' torment! '

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Then Hurin answered, Hithlum's chieftain --

his shining eyes with sheen of fire

in wrath were reddened: '0 ruinous one,

by fear unfettered I have fought thee long,

nor dread thee now, nor thy demon slaves,

fiends and phantoms, thou foe of Gods! '

His dark tresses, drenched and tangled,

that fell o'er his face he flung backward,

in the eye he looked of the evil Lord --

since that day of dread to dare his glance

has no mortal Man had might of soul.

There the mind of Hurin in a mist of dark

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neath gaze unfathomed groped and foundered,*

yet his heart yielded not nor his haughty pride.

But Lungorthin Lord of Balrogs

on the mouth smote him, and Morgoth smiled:

'Nay, fear when thou feelest, when the flames lick thee and the whistling whips thy white body

and wilting flesh weal and torture! '

Then hung they helpless Hurin dauntless

in chains by fell enchantments forged

that with fiery anguish his flesh devoured,

yet loosed not lips locked in silence

to pray for pity. Thus prisoned saw he

on the sable walls the sultry glare

of far-off fires fiercely burning

down deep corridors and dark archways

in the blind abysses of those bottomless halls; there with mourning mingled mighty tumult

the throb and thunder of the thudding forges'

brazen clangour; belched and spouted

flaming furnaces; there faces sad

through the glooms glided as the gloating Orcs their captives herded under cruel lashes.

Many a hopeless glance on Hurin fell,

for his tearless torment many tears were spilled.

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Lo! Morgoth remembered the mighty doom,

the weird of old, that the Elves in woe,

in ruin and wrack by the reckless hearts

of mortal Men should be meshed at last;

that treason alone of trusted friend

should master the magic whose mazes wrapped

the children of Cor, cheating his purpose,

from defeat fending Fingolfin's son,

Turgon the terrible, and the troth-brethren

the sons of Feanor, and secret, far,

homes hid darkly in the hoar forest

where Thingol was throned in the Thousand Caves.

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Then the Lord of Hell lying-hearted

to where Hurin hung hastened swiftly,

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* Here the latest text IID ends, and I IB is followed from this point; sec p. 95.) and the Balrogs about him brazen-handed

with flails of flame and forged iron

there laughed as they looked on his lonely woe; but Bauglir said: '0 bravest of Men,

'tis fate unfitting for thus fellhanded

warrior warfain that to worthless friends

his sword he should sell, who seek no more

to free him from fetters or his fall avenge.

While shrinking in the shadows they shake fearful in the hungry hills hiding outcast

their league belying, lurking faithless,

he by evil lot in everlasting

dungeons droopeth doomed to torment

and anguish endless. That thy arms unchained

I had fainer far should a falchion keen

or axe with edge eager flaming

wield in warfare where the wind bloweth

the banners of battle -- such a brand as might in my sounding smithies on the smitten anvil

of glowing steel to glad thy soul

be forged and fashioned, yea, and fair harness and mail unmatched -- than that marred with flails my mercy waiving thou shouldst moan enchained neath the brazen Balrogs' burning scourges:

who art worthy to win reward and honour

as a captain of arms when cloven is mail

and shields are shorn, when they shake the hosts of their foes like fire in fell onset.

Lo! receive my service; forswear hatred,

ancient enmity thus ill-counselled --

I am a mild master who remembers well

his servants' deeds. A sword of terror

thy hand should hold, and a high lordship

as Bauglir's champion, chief of Balrogs,

to lead o'er the lands my loud armies,

whose royal array I already furnish;

on Turgon the troll (who turned to flight

and left thee alone, now leaguered fast

in waterless wastes and weary mountains)

my wrath to wreak, and on redhanded

robber-Gnomes, rebels, and roaming Elves,

that forlorn witless the Lord of the World

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defy in their folly -- they shall feel my might.

I will bid men unbind thee, and thy body comfort!

Go follow their footsteps with fire and steel, with thy sword go search their secret dwellings; when in triumph victorious thou returnest hither, I have hoards unthought-of' -- but Hurin Thalion suffered no longer silent wordless;

through clenched teeth in clinging pain,

'0 accursed king', cried unwavering,

'thy hopes build not so high, Bauglir;

no tool am I for thy treasons vile,

who tryst nor troth ever true holdest--

seek traitors elsewhere.'

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Then returned answer

Morgoth amazed his mood hiding:

'Nay, madness holds thee; thy mind wanders;

my measureless hoards are mountains high

in places secret piled uncounted

agelong unopened; Elfin silver

and gold in the gloom there glister pale;

the gems and jewels once jealous-warded

in the mansions of the Gods, who mourn them yet, are mine, and a meed I will mete thee thence

of wealth to glut the Worm of Greed.'

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Then Hurin, hanging, in hate answered:

'Canst not learn of thy lore when thou look'st on a foe, 0 Bauglir unblest? Bray no longer

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of the things thou hast thieved from the Three Kindreds! 200

In hate I hold thee. Thou art humbled indeed

and thy might is minished if thy murderous hope and cruel counsels on a captive sad

must wait, on a weak and weary man.'

To the hosts of Hell his head then he turned:

'Let thy foul banners go forth to battle,

ye Balrogs and Orcs; let your black legions

go seek the sweeping sword of Turgon.

Through the dismal dales you shall be driven wailing like startled starlings from the stooks of wheat. 210

Minions miserable of master base,

your doom dread ye, dire disaster!

The tide shall turn; your triumph brief

and victory shall vanish. I view afar

the wrath of the Gods roused in anger.'

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Then tumult awoke, a tempest wild

in rage roaring that rocked the walls;

consuming madness seized on Morgoth,

yet with lowered voice and leering mouth

thus Thalion Erithamrod he threatened darkly:

'Thou hast said it! See how my swift purpose

shall march to its mark unmarred of thee,

nor thy aid be asked, overweening

mortal mightless. I command thee gaze

on my deeds of power dreadly proven.