Lay of Leithian Canto VI: Difference between revisions
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Revision as of 01:38, 3 July 2006
Lay of Leithian cantos |
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This Canto of the Lay of Leithian starts with a description of Tirion on Túna, here called Tûn. It speaks in short of Fëanor's speech and the Oath, that he and his sons spake. It also speeks in brief of the deeds of the Noldor, such as the rescue of Maedhros by Fingon. It tells of how Barahir, the father of Beren, aided Finrod Felagund during the Siege of Angband. Then how Beren made his way to Nargothrond, asking for Felagund's aid in the Quest for the Silmaril, giving the greatest speech he made in his life about the beauty of Lúthien. Though Felagund was moved, he feared the power of Celegorm and Curufin, who took the Oath and were very influential in Nargothrond, despite his own oath to Barahir. Then the two brothers stood and spoke, and so masterful were their voices that for many years after no elf of Nargothrond went to war for a long time. Therefor the people would not follow Felagund on this quest, and he took with him only ten, giving his crown to Orodreth. "Then Celegorm no more would stay,/And Curufin smiled and turned away".
The Canto
- When Morgoth in that day of doom
- had slain the Trees and filled with gloom
- the shining land of Valinor,
- there Fëanor and his sons then swore
- the mighty oath upon the hill
- of tower-crowned Tûn, that still
- wrought wars and sorrow in the world.
- From darkling seas the fogs unfurled
- their blinding shadows grey and cold
- where Glingal once had bloomed with gold
- And Belthil bore its silver flowers.
- The mists were mantled round the towers
- of the Elves' white city by the sea.
- There countless torches fitfully
- did start and twinkle, as the Gnomes
- were gathered to their fading homes,
- and thronged the long and winding stair
- that led to the wide echoing square.
- There Fëanor mourned his jewels divine,
- the Silmarils he made. Like wine
- his wild and potent words them fill;
- a great host harkens deathly still.
- But all he said both wild and wise,
- half truth and half the fruit of lies
- that Morgoth sowed in Valinor,
- in other songs and other lore
- recorded is. He bade them flee
- from lands divine, to cross the sea,
- the pathless plains, the perilous shores
- where ice-infested water roars;
- to follow Morgoth to the unlit earth
- leaving their dwellings and olden mirth;
- to go back to the Outer Lands
- to wars and weeping. There their hands
- they joined in vows, those kinsmen seven,
- swearing beneath the stars of Heaven,
- by Varda the Holy that them wrought
- and bore them each with radiance fraught
- and set them in the deeps to flame.
- Timbrenting's holy height they name,
- whereon are built the timeless halls
- of Manwë Lord of Gods. Who calls
- these names in witness may not break
- his oath, though earth and heaven shake.
- Curufin, Celegorm the fair,
- Damrod and Díriel were there,
- and Cranthir dark, and Maidros tall
- (whom after torment should befall),
- and Maglor the mighty who like the sea
- with deep voice sings yet mournfully.
- 'Be he friend or foe, or seed defiled
- of Morgoth Bauglir, or mortal child
- that in after days on earth shall dwell,
- no law, nor love, nor league of hell,
- not might of Gods, not moveless fate
- shall him defend from wrath and hate
- of Fëanor's sons, who takes or steals
- or finding keeps the Silmarils,
- the thrice-enchanted globes of light
- that shine until the final night.'
- The wars and wandering of the Gnomes
- this tale tells not. Far from their homes
- they fought and laboured in the North.
- Fingon daring alone went forth
- and sought for Maidros where he hung;
- in torment terrible he swung,
- his wrist in band of forgéd steel,
- from a sheer precipice where reel
- the dizzy senses staring down
- from Thangorodrim's stony crown.
- The song of Fingon's Elves yet sing,
- captain of armies, Gnomish king,
- who fell at last in flame of swords
- with his white banners and his lords.
- They sing how Maidros free he set,
- and stayed the feud that slumbered yet
- between the children proud of Finn.
- Now joined once more they hemmed him in,
- even great Morgoth, and their host
- beleaguered Angband, till they boast
- no Orc nor demon ever dare
- their leaguer break or past them fare.
- Then days of solace woke on earth
- beneath the new-lit Sun, and mirth
- was heard in the Great Lands where Men,
- a young race, spread and wandered then.
- That was the time that songs do call
- the Siege of Angband, when like a wall
- the Gnomish swords did fence the earth
- from Morgoth's ruin, a time of birth,
- of blossoming, of flowers, of growth;
- but still there held the deathless oath,
- and still the Silmarils were deep
- in Angband's darkly-dolven keep.
- An end there came, when fortune turned,
- and flames of Morgoth's vengeance burned,
- and all the might which he prepared
- in secret in his fastness flared
- and poured across the Thirsty Plain;
- and armies black were in his train.
- The leaguer of Angband Morgoth broke;
- his enemies in fire and smoke
- were scattered, and the Orcs there slew
- and slew, until the blood like dew
- dripped from each cruel and crooked blade.
- Then Barahir the bold did aid
- with mighty spear, with shield and men,
- Felagund wounded. To the fen
- escaping, there they bound their troth,
- and Felagund deeply swore an oath
- of friendship to his kin and seed,
- of love and succour in time of need.
- But there of Finrod's children four
- were Angrod slain and proud Egnor.
- Felagund and Orodreth then
- gathered the remnant of their men,
- their maidens and their children fair;
- forsaking war they made their lair
- and cavernous hold far in the south.
- On Narog's towering bank its mouth
- was opened; which they hid and veiled,
- and mighty doors, that unassailed
- till Túrin's day stood vast and grim,
- they built by trees o'ershadowed dim.
- And with them dwelt a long time there
- Curufin, and Celegorm the fair;
- and a mighty folk grew neath their hands
- in Narog's secret halls and lands.
- Thus Felagund in Nargothrond
- still reigned, a hidden king whose bond
- was sworn to Barahir the bold.
- And now his son through forests cold
- wandered alone as in a dream.
- Esgalduin's dark and shrouded stream
- he followed, till its waters frore
- were joined to Sirion, Sirion hoar,
- pale silver water wide and free
- rolling in splendour to the sea.
- Now Beren came unto the pools,
- wide shallow meres where Sirion cools
- his gathered tide beneath the stars,
- ere chafed and sundered by the bars
- or reedy banks a mighty fen
- he feeds and drenches, plunging then
- into vast chasms underground,
- where many miles his way is wound.
- Umboth-Muilin, Twilight Meres,
- those great wide waters grey as tears
- the Elves then named. Through driving rain
- from thence across the Guarded Plain
- the Hills of the Hunters Beren saw
- with bare tops bitten bleak and raw
- by western winds; but in the mist
- of streaming rains that flashed and hissed
- into the meres he knew there lay
- beneath those hills the cloven way
- of Narog, and the watchful halls
- of Felagund beside the falls
- of Ingwil tumbling from the wold.
- And everlasting watch they hold,
- the Gnomes of Nargothrond renowned,
- and every hill is tower-crowned,
- where wardens sleepless peer and gaze
- guarding the plain and all the ways
- between Narog swift and Sirion pale;
- and archers whose arrows never fail
- there range the woods, and secret kill
- all who creep thither against their will.
- Yet now he thrusts into that land
- bearing the gleaming ring on hand
- of Felagund, and oft doth cry:
- 'Here comes no wandering Orc or spy,
- but Beren son of Barahir
- who once to Felagund was dear.'
- So ere he reached the eastward shore
- of Narog, that doth foam and roar
- o'er boulders black, those archers green
- came round him. When the ring was seen
- they bowed before him, though his plight
- was poor and beggarly. Then by night
- they led him northward, for no ford
- nor bridge was built where Narog poured
- before the gates of Nargothrond,
- and friend nor foe might pass beyond.
- To northward, where that stream yet young
- more slender flowed, below the tongue
- of foam-splashed land that Glinglith pens
- when her brief golden toreent ends
- and joins the Narog, there they wade.
- Now swiftest journey thensce they made
- to Nargothrond's sheer rerraces
- and dim gigantic palaces.
- They came beneath a sickle moon
- to doors there darkly hung and hewn
- with posts and lintels of ponderous stone
- and timbers huge. Now open thrown
- were gaping gates, and in they strode
- where Felagund on throne abode.
- Fair were the words of Narog's king
- to Beren, and his wandering
- and all the feuds and bitter wars
- recounted soon. Behind closed doors
- they sat, while Beren told his tale
- of Doriath; and words him fail
- recalling Lúthien dancing fair
- with wild white roses in her hair,
- remembering her elven voice that rung
- while stars in twilight round her hung.
- He spake of Thingol's marvellous halls
- by enchantment lit, where fountain falls
- and ever the nightingale doth sing
- to Melian and to her king.
- The quest he told that Thingol laid
- in scorn on him; how for love of maid
- more fair than ever was born to Men,
- of Tinúviel, of Lúthien,
- he must essay the burning waste,
- and doubtless death and torment taste.
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