History of Middle Earth (All 12 Vols.)

HISTORY OF MIDDLE-EARTH

CONTENTS Foreword I THE COTTAGE OF LOST PLAY Notes and Commentary II THE MUSIC OF THE AINUR Notes and Commentaries III THE COMING OF THE VALAR AND THE BUILDING OF VALINOR Notes and Commentary IV THE CHAINING OF MELKO Notes and Commentary V THE COMING OF THE ELVES AND THE MAKING OF KOR Notes and Commentary VI THE THEFT OF MELKO AND THE DARKENING OF VALINOR Notes and Commentary VII THE FLIGHT OF THE NOLDOLI Notes and Commentary VIII THE TALE OF THE SUN AND MOON Notes and Commentary IX THE HIDING OF VALINOR Vll 1 10 40 45, 58 63 80 99 114 121 140 154 171 180 188 194 219 Notes and Commentary 233 248 X GILFANON'S TALE: THE TRAVAIL OF THE NOLDOLI AND THE COMING OF MANKIND Notes Appendix: Names in the Lost Tales -- Part I Short Glossary of Obsolete, Archaic, and Rare Words Index 259 278 280 319 322

FOREWORD. The Book of Lost Tales, written between sixty and seventy years ago, was the first substantial work of imaginative literature by J. R. R. Tolkien, and the first emergence in narrative of the Valar, of the Children of Iluvatar, Elves and Men, of the Dwarves and the Orcs, and of the lands in which their history is set, Valinor beyond the western ocean, and Middle-earth, the 'Great Lands' between the seas of east and west. Some fifty-seven years after my father ceased to work on the Lost Tales, The Silmarillion,* profoundly transformed from its distant forerunner, was published; and six years have passed since then. This Foreword seems a suitable opportunity to remark on some aspects of both works. The Silmarillion is commonly said to be a 'difficult' book, needing explanation and guidance on how to 'approach' it; and in this it is contrasted' to The Lord of the Rings. In Chapter 7 of his book The Road to Middle-earth Professor T. A. Shippey accepts that this is so ('The Silmarillion could never be anything but hard to read', p. 201), and expounds his view of why it should be. A complex discussion is not treated justly when it is extracted, but in his view the reasons an: essentially two (p. 185). In the first place, them is in The Silmarillion no 'mediation' of the kind provided by the hobbits (so, in The Hobbit, 'Bilbo acts as the link between modern times and the archaic world of dwarves and dragons'). * When the name is printed in italics, I refer to the work as published; when in inverted commas, to the work in a mom general way, in any or all of its forms. My father was himself well aware that the absence of hobbits would be felt as a lack, were 'The Silmarillion' to be published -- and not only by readers with a particular liking for them. In a letter written in 1956 (The Letters of J. R. R. Tolkien, p. 238), soon after the publication of The Lord of the Rings, he said: I do not think it would have the appeal of the L.R. -- no hobbits! Full of mythology, and elvishness, and all that 'heigh stile' (as Chaucer might say), which has been so little to the taste of many reviewers. In 'The Silmarillion' the draught is pure and unmixed; and the reader is worlds away from such 'mediation', such a deliberate collison (far more than a matter of styles) as that produced in the meeting between King Theoden and Pippin and Merry in the ruins of Iseagard: 'Farewell, my hobbits! May we meet again in my house! There you shall sit beside me and tell me all that your hearts desire: the deeds of your grandsires, as far as you can reckon them...' The hobbits bowed low. 'So that is the King of Rohan! ' said Pippin in an undertone. 'A fine old fellow. Very polite.' In the second place, ' Where TheSilmarillion differs from Tolkien's earlier works is in its refusal to accept novelistic convention. Most novels (including The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings) pick a character to put in the foreground, like Frodo and Bilbo, and then tell the story as it happens to him. The novelist of course is inventing the story, and so retains omniscience: he can explain, or show, what is 'really' happening and contrast it with the limited perception of his character. These is, then, and very evidently, a question of literary 'taste' (or literary 'habituation') involved; and also a question

of literary 'disappointment' -- the '(mistaken) disappointment in those who wanted a second Lord of the Rings' to which Professor Shippey refers. This has even produced a sense of outrage -- in one case formulated to me in the words 'It's like the Old Testament!': a dire condemnation against which, clearly, there can be no appeal (though this reader cannot have got very far before being overcome by the comparison). Of course, 'The Silmarillion' was intended to move the heart and the imagination, directly, and without peculiar effort or the possession of unusual faculties; but its mode is inherent, and it may be doubted whether any 'approach' to it can greatly aid those who find it unapproachable. There is a third consideration (which Professor Shippey does not indeed advance in the same context): One quality which [The Lord of the Rings] has in abundance is the Beowulfian 'impression of depth', created just as in the old epic by songs and digressions like Aragorn's lay of Tinuviel, Sam Gamgee's allusions to the Silmaril and the Iron Crown, Elrond's account of Celebrimbor, and dozens more. This, however, is a quality of The Lord of the Rings, not of the inset stories. To tell these in their own right and expect them to retain the charm they got from their larger setting would be a terrible error, an error to which Tolkien would be more sensitive than any man alive. As he wrote in a revealing letter dated 20 September 1963: I am doubtful myself about the undertaking [to write The Silmarillion]. Part of the attraction of The L.R. is, I think, due to the glimpses of a large history in the background: an attraction like that of viewing far off an unvisited island, or seeing the towers of a distant city gleaming in a sunlit mist. To go them is to destroy the magic, unless new unattainable vistas are again revealed. (Letters, p. 333) To go there is to destroy the magic. As for the revealing of 'new unattainable vistas', the problem there -- as Tolkien must have thought many times -- was that in The Lord of the Rings Middle-earth was already old, with a vast weight of history behind it. The Silmarillion, though, in its longer form, was bound to begin at the beginning. How could 'depth' be created when you had nothing to reach further back to? The letter quoted here certainly shows that my father felt this, or perhaps rather one should say, at times felt this, to be a problem. Nor was it a new thought: while he was writing The Lord of the Rings, in 1945, he said in a letter to me (Letters, p. 110): A story must be told or there'll be no story, yet it is the untold stories that are most moving. I think you are moved by Celebrimbor because it conveys a sudden sense of endless untold stories: mountains seen far away, never to be climbed, distant trees (like Niggle's) never to be approached -- or if so only to become 'near trees'... This matter is perfectly illustrated for me by Gimli's song in Moria, where great names out of the ancient world appear utterly remote: The world was fair, the mountains tall In Elder Days before the fall Of mighty kings in Nargothrond And Gondolin, who now beyond The Western Seas have passed away... 'I like that! ' said Sam. 'I should like to learn it. In Moria, in Khazad-dum. But it makes the darkness seem heavier, thinking of all those lamps.' By his enthusiastic 'I like that! ' Sam not only 'mediates' (and engagingly 'Gamgifies') the

'high', the mighty kings of Nargothrond and Gondolin, Durin on his carven throne, but places them at once at an even remoter distance, a magical distance that it might well seem (at that moment) destructive to traverse. Professor Shippey says that 'to tell [the stories that are only alluded to in The Lord of the Rings] in their own right and expect them to retain the charm they got from their larger setting would be a terrible error'. The 'error' presumably lies in the holding of such an expectation, if the stories were told, not in the telling of the stories at all; and it is apparent that Professor Shippey sees my father as wondering, in 1963, whether he should or should not put pen to paper, for he expands the words of the letter, 'I am doubtful myself about the undertaking', to mean 'the undertaking to write The Silmarillion'. But when my father said this he was not -- most emphatically not -- referring to the work itself, which was in any case already written, and much of it many times over (the allusions in The Lord of the Rings are not illusory): what was in question for him, as he said earlier in this same letter, was its presentation, in a publication, after the appearance of The Lord of the Rings, when, as he thought, the right time to make it known was already gone. I am afraid all the same that the presentation will need a lot of work, and I work so slowly. The legends have to be worked over (they were written at different times, some many years ago) and made consistent; and they have to be integrated with The L.R.; and they have to be given some progressive shape. No simple device, like a journey and a quest, is available. I am doubtful myself about the undertaking... When after his death the question arose of publishing 'The Silmarillion' in some form, I attached no importance to this doubt. The effect that 'the glimpses of a large history in the background' have in The Lord of the Rings is incontestable and of the utmost importance, but I did not think that the 'glimpses' used there with such art should preclude all further knowledge of the 'large history'. The literary 'impression of depth... created by songs and digressions' cannot be made a criterion by which a work in a wholly different mode is measured: this would be to treat the history of the Elder Days as of value primarily or even solely in the artistic use made of it in The Lord of the Rings. Nor should the device of a backward movement in imagined time to dimly apprehended events, whose attraction lies in their very dimness, be understood mechanically, as if a fuller account of the mighty kings of Nargothrond and Gondolin would imply a dangerously near approach to the bottom of the well, while an account of the Creation would signify the striking of the bottom and a definitive running-out of 'depth' -- 'nothing to reach further back to'. This, surely, is not how things work, or at least not how they need work. 'Depth' in this sense implies a relation between different temporal layers or levels within the same world. Provided that the reader has a place, a point of vantage, in the imagined time from which to look back, the extreme oldness of the extremely old can be made apparent and made to be felt continuously. And the very fact that The Lord of the Rings establishes such a powerful sense of areal timestructure (far more powerful than can be done by mere chronological assertion, tables of dates) provides this necessary vantage-point. To read The Silmarillion one must place oneself imaginatively at the time of the ending of the Third Age -- within Middle-earth, looking back: at the temporal

point of Sam Gamgee's 'I like that! ' -- adding, 'I should like to know more about it'. Moreover the compendious or epitomising form and manner of The Silmarillion, with its suggestion of ages of poetry and 'lore' behind it, strongly evokes a sense of 'untold tales', even in the telling of them; 'distance' is never lost. There is no narrative urgency, the pressure and fear of the immediate and unknown event. We do not actually see the Silmarils as we see the Ring. The maker of 'The Silmarillion', as he himself said of the author of Beowulf, 'was telling of things already old and weighted with regret, and he expended his art in making keen that touch upon the heart which sorrows have that are both poignant and remote'. As has now been fully recorded, my father greatly desired to publish 'The Silmarillion' together with The Lord of the Rings. I say nothing of its practicability at the time, nor do I make any guesses at the subsequent fate of such a much longer combined work, quadrilogy or tetralogy, or at the different courses that my father might then have taken -- for the further development of 'The Silmarillion' itself, the history of the Elder Days, would have been arrested. But by its posthumous publication nearly a quarter of a century later the natural order of presentation of the whole 'Matter of Middle-earth' was inverted; and it is certainly debatable whether it was wise to publish in 1977 a version of the primary 'legendarium' standing on its own and claiming, as it were, to be self-explanatory. The published work has no 'framework', no suggestion of what it is and how (within the imagined world) it came to be. This I now think to have been an error. The letter of 1963 quoted above shows my father pondering the mode in which the legends of the Elder Days might be presented. The original mode, that of The Book of Lost Tales, in which a Man, Eriol, comes after a great voyage over the ocean to the island where the Elves dwell and learns their history from their own lips, had (by degrees) fallen away. When my father died in 1973 'The Silmarillion' was in a characteristic state of disarray: the earlier parts much revised or largely rewritten, the concluding parts still as he had left them some twenty years before; but in the latest writing there is no trace or suggestion of any 'device' or 'framework' in which it was to be set. I think that in the end he concluded that nothing would serve, and no more would be said beyond an explanation of how (within the imagined world) it came to be recorded. In the original edition of The Lord of the Rings Bilbo gave to Frodo at Rivendell as his parting gift 'some books of lore that he had made at various times, written in his spidery hand, and labelled on their red backs: Translations from the Elvish, by B.B.' In the second edition (1966) 'some books' was changed to 'three books', and in the Note on the Shire Records added to the Prologue in that edition my father said that the content of 'the three large volumes bound in red leather' was preserved in that copy of the Red Book of Westmarch which was made in Gondor by the King's Writer Findegil in the year 172 of the Fourth Age; and also that These three volumes were found to be a work of great skill and learning in which... [Bilbo] had used all the sources available to him in Rivendell, both living and written. But since they were little used by Frodo, being almost entirely concerned with the Elder Days, no more is said of them here. In The Complete Guide to Middle-earth Robert Foster says:

'Quenta Silmarillion was no doubt one of Bilbo's Translations from the Elvish preserved in the Red Book of Westmarch.' So also I have assumed: the 'books of lore' that Bilbo gave to Frodo provided in the end the solution: they were 'The Silmarillion'. But apart from the evidence cited here, there is, so far as I know, no other statement on this matter anywhere in my father's writings; and (wrongly, as I think now) I was reluctant to step into the breach and make definite what I only surmised. The choice before me, in respect of 'The Silmarillion', was threefold. I could withhold it indefinitely from publication, on the ground that the work was incomplete and incoherent between its parts. I could accept the nature of the work as it stood, and, to quote my Foreword to the book, 'attempt to present the diversity of the materials -- to show "The Silmarillion" as in truth a continuing and evolving creation extending over morethan half a century', and that, as I have said in Unfinished Tales (p. 1), would have entailed 'a complex of divergent texts interlinked by commentary' -- a far larger undertaking than those words suggest. In the event, I chose the third course, 'to work out a single text, selecting and arranging in such a way as seemed to me to produce the most coherent and internally self-consistent narrative'. Having come, at length, to that decision, all the editorial labour of myself and of Guy Kay who assisted me was directed to the end that my father had stated in the letter of 1963: 'The legends have to be worked over... and made consistent; and they have to be integrated with the L.R.' Since the object was to present 'The Silmarillion' as 'a completed and cohesive entity' (though that could not in the nature of the case be entirely successful), it followed that there would be in the published book no exposition of the complexities of its history. Whatever may be thought of this matter, the result, which I by no means foresaw, has been to add a further dimension of obscurity to 'The Silmarillion', in that uncertainty about the age of the work, whether it is to be regarded as 'early' or 'late' or in what proportions, and about the degree of editorial intrusion and manipulation (or even invention), is a stumbling-block and a source of much misapprehension. Professor Randel Helms, in Tolkien and the Silmarils (p. 93), has stated the question thus: Anyone interested, as I am, in the growth of The Silmarillion will want to study Unfinished Tales, not only for its intrinsic value but also because its relationship to the former provides what will become a classic example of a long-standing problem in literary criticism: what, really, is a literary work? Is it what the author intended (or may have intended) it to be, or is it what a later editor makes of it? The problem becomes especially intense for the practising critic when, as happened with The Silmarillion, a writer dies before finishing his work and leaves more than one version of some of its parts, which then find publication elsewhere. Which version will the critic approach as the 'real' story? But he also says: 'Christopher Tolkien has helped us in this instance by honestly pointing out that The Silmarillion in the shape that we have it is the invention of the son not the father', and this is a serious misapprehension to which my words have given rise. Again, Professor Shippey, while accepting (p. 169) my assurance that a 'very high proportion' of the 1937 'Silmarillion' text remained into the published version, is nonethe-

less elsewhere clearly reluctant to see it as other than a 'late' work, even the latest work of its author. And in an article entitled 'The Text of The Hobbit: Putting Tolkien's Notes in Order' (English Studies in Canada, VII, 2, Summer 1981) Constance B. Hieatt concludes that 'it is very clear indeed that we shall never be able to see the progressive steps of authorial thinking behind The Silmarillion'. But beyond the difficulties and the obscurities, what i's certain and very evident is that for the begetter of Middle-earth and Valinor there was a deep coherence and vital interrelation between all its times, places, and beings, whatever the literary modes, and however protean some parts of the conception might seem when viewed over a long lifetime. He himself understood very well that many who read The Lord of the Rings with enjoyment would never wish to regard Middle-earth as more than the mise-en-scene of the story, and would delight in the sensation of 'depth' without wishing to explore the deep places. But the 'depth' is not of course an illusion, like a line of imitation book-backs with no books inside them; and Quenya and Sindarin are comprehensive structures. There are explorations to be conducted in this world with perfect right quite irrespective of literary-critical considerations; and it is proper to attempt to comprehend its structure in its largest extent, from the myth of its Creation. Every person, every feature of the imagined world that seemed significant to its author is then worthy of attention in its own right, Manwe or Feanor no less than Gandalf or Galadriel, the Silmarils no less than the Rings; the Great Music, the divine hierarchies, the abodes of the Valar, the fates of the Children of Iluvatar, are essential elements in the perception of the whole. Such enquiries are in no way illegitimate in principle; they arise from an acceptance of the imagined world as an object of contemplation or study valid as many other objects of contemplation or study in the all too unimaginary world. It was in this opinion and in the knowledge that others shared it that I made the collection called Unifinished Tales. But the author's vision of his own vision underwent a continual slow shifting, shedding and enlarging: only in The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings did parts of it emerge to become fixed in print, in his own lifetime. The study of Middle-earth and Valinor is thus complex; for the object of the study was not stable, but exists, as it were 'longitudinally' in time (the author's lifetime), and not only 'transversely' in time, as a printed book that undergoes no essential further change. By the publication of 'The Silmarillion' the 'longitudinal' was cut 'transversely', and a kind of finality imposed. This rather rambling discussion is an attempt to explain my primary motives in offering The Book of Lost Tales for publication. It is the first step in presenting the 'longitudinal' view of Middle-earth and Valinor: when the huge geographical expansion, swelling out from the centre and (as it were) thrusting Beleriand into the west, was far off in the future; when there were no 'Elder Days' ending in the drowning of Beleriand, for there were as yet no other Ages of the World; when the Elves were still 'fairies', and even Rumil the learned Noldo was far removed from the magisterial 'loremasters' of my father's later years. In The Book of Lost Tales the princes of the Noldor have scarcely emerged, nor the Grey-elves of Beleriand; Beren is an Elf, not a Man, and his captor, the

ultimate precursor of Sauron in that role, is a monstrous cat inhabited by a fiend; the Dwarves are an evil people; and the historical relations of Quenya and Sindarin were quite differently conceived. Them are a few especially notable features, but such a list could be greatly prolonged. On the other hand, there was already a firm underlying structure that would endure. Moreover in the history of the history of Middle-earth the development was seldom by outright rejection -- far more often it was by subtle transformation in stages, so that the growth of the legends (the process, for instance, by which the Nargothrond story made contact with that of Beren and Luthien, a contact not even hinted at in the Lost Tales, though both elements were present) can seem like the growth of legends among peoples, the product of inany minds and generations. The Book of Lost Tales was begun by my father in 191617 during the First War, when he was 25 years old, and left incomplete several years later. It is the starting-point, at least in fuHy-formed narrative, of the history of Valinor and Middle-earth; but before the Tales were complete he turned to the composition of long poems, the Lay of Leithian in rhyming couplets (the story of Beren and Luthien), and The Children of Hurin in alliterative verse. The prose form of the 'mythology' began again from a new starting-point* in a quite brief synopsis, or 'Sketch' as he called it, written in 1926 and expressly intended to provide the necessary background of knowledge for the understanding of the alliterative poem. The further written development of the prose form proceeded from that 'Sketch' in a direct line to the version of 'The Silmarillion' which was nearing completion towards the end of 1937, when my father broke off to send it as it stood to Allen and Unwin in November of that year; but there were also important side-branches and subordinate texts composed in the 1930s, as the Annals of Valinor and the Annals of Beleriand (fragments of which are extant also in the Old English translations made by AElfwine (Eriol)), the cosmological account called Ambarkanta, the Shape of the World, by Rumil, and the Lhammas or 'Account of Tongues', by Pengolod of Gondolin. Thereafter the history of the First Age was laid aside for many years, until The Lord of the Rings was completed, but in the years preceding its actual publication my father returned to 'The Silmarillion' and associated works with great vigour. * Only in the case of The Music of the Ainur was there a direct development, manuscript to manuscript, from The Book of Lost Tales to the later forms; for The Music of the Ainur became separated offand continued as an independent work. This edition of the Lost Tales in two parts is to be, as I hope, the beginning of a series that will carry the history further through these later writings, in verse and prose; and in this hope I have applied to this present book an 'overriding' title intended to cover also those that may follow it, though I fear that 'The History of Middle-earth' may turn out to have been over-ambitious. In any case this title does not imply a 'History' in the conventional sense: my intention is to give complete or largely complete texts, so that the books will be more like a series of editions. I do not set myself as a primary object the unravelling of many single and separate threads, but rather the making available of works that can and should be mad as wholes. The tracing of this long evolution is to me of deep interest,

'and I hope that it may prove so to others who have a taste for this kind of enquiry: whether the major transformations of plot or cosmological theory, or such a detail as the premonitory appearance of Legolas Greenleaf the keen-sighted in the tale of The Fall of Gondolin. But these old manuscripts are by no means of interest only for the study of origins. Much is to be found them that my father never (so far as one can tell) expressly rejected, and it is to be remembered that 'The Silmarillion', from the 1926 'Sketch' onwards, was written as an abridgement or epitome, giving the substance of much longer works (whether existing in fact, or not) in a smaller compass. The highly archaic manner devised for his purpose was no fustian: it had range and great vigour, peculiarly apt to convey the magical and eerie natureof the early Elves, but as readily turned to the sarcastic, sneering Melko or the affairs of Ulmo and Osse. These last approach at times a comic conception, and me delivered in a rapid and lively language that did not survive in the gravity of my father's later 'Silmarillion' prose (so Osse 'fares about in a foam of business' as he anchors the islands to the sea-bed, the cliffs of Tol Eressea new-filled with the first sea-birds 'are full of a chattering and a smell of fish, and great conclaves are held upon its ledges', and when the Shoreland Elves am at last drawn over the sea to Valinor Ulmo marvellously 'fares at the rear in his fishy car and trumpets loudly for the discomfiture of Osse'). The Lost Tales never reached or even approached a form in which my father could have considered their publication before he abandoned them; they were experimental and provisional, and the tattered notebooks in which they were written were bundled away and left unlooked at as the years passed. To present them in a printed book has raised many thorny editorial problems. In the first place, the manuscripts are intrinsically very difficult: partly because much of the text was' written rapidly in pencil and is now in places extremely hard to read, requiring a magnifying glass and much patience, not always rewarded. But also in some of the Tales my father erased the original pencilled text and wrote a revised version over it in ink -- and since at this period he used bound notebooks rather than loose sheets, he was liable to find himself short of space: so detached portions of tales were written in the middle of other tales, and in places a fearsome textual jigsaw puzzle was produced. Secondly, the Lost Tales were not all written progressively one after the other in the sequence of the narrative; and (inevitably) my father began a new arrangement and revision of the Tales while the work was still in progress. The Fall of Gondolin was the first of the tales told to Eriol to be composed, and the Tale of Tinuviel the second, but the events of those tales take place towards the end of the history; on the other hand the extant texts are later revisions. In some cases nothing earlier than the revised form can now be read; in some both forms are extant for all, or a part, of their length; in some there is only a preliminary draft; and in some there is no formed narrative at all, but only notes and projections. After much experimentation I have found that no method of presentation is feasible but to set out the Tales in the sequence of the narrative. And finally, as the writing of the Tales progressed, relations were changed, new conceptions entered, and the development of the languages pari passu with the narrative led to continual revision of names.

An edition that takes account of such complexities, as this does, rather than attempt to smooth them artificially away, is liable to be an intricate and crabbed thing, in which the reader is never left alone for a moment. I have attempted to make the Tales themselves accessible and uncluttered while providing a fairly full account, for those who want it, of the actual textual evidences. To achieve this I have drastically reduced the quantity of annotation to the texts in these ways: the many changes made to names are all recorded, but they are lumped together at the end of each tale, not recorded individually at each occurrence (the places where the names occur can be found from the Index); almost all annotation concerned with content is taken up into, or boiled down into, a commentary or short essay following each tale; and almost all linguistic comment (primarily the etymology of names) is collected in an Appendix on Names at the end of the book, where will be found a great deal of information relating to the earliest stages of the 'Elvish' languages. In this way the numbered notes are very largely restricted to variants and divergences found in other texts, and the reader who does not wish to trouble with these can read the Tales knowing that that is almost all that he is missing. I have eschewed parallels, sources, influences; and have mostly-avoided the complexities of the development between the Lost Tales and the published work (since to indicate these even cursorily would, I think, be distracting), treating the matter in a simplified way, as between two fixed points. The commentaries am limited in their scope, being mostly concerned to discuss the implications of what is said within the context of the Tales themselves, and to compare them with the published Silmarillion. I do not suppose for one moment that my analyses will prove either altogether just or altogether accurate, and there must be clues to the solution of puzzling features in the Tales which I have failed to observe. There is also included a short glossary of words occurring in the Tales and poems that are obsolete, archaic, or The texts are given in a form very close to that of the original manuscripts. Only the most minor and obvious slips have been silently corrected; where sentences fall awkwardly, or where there is a lack of grammatical cohesion, as is sometimes the case in the parts of the Tales that never got beyond a first rapid draft, I have let them stand. I have allowed myself greater freedom in providing punctuation, for my father when writing at speed often punctuated erratically or not at all; and I have gone further than he did in consistency of capitalisation. I have adopted, though hesitantly, a consistent system of accentuation for Elvish names. My father wrote, for instance; Palurien, Palurien, Palurien; Onen, Onen; Kor, Kor. I have used the acute accent for macron, circumflex, and acute (and occasional grave) accents of the original texts, but the circumflex on monosyllables -- thus Palurien, Onen, Kor: the same system, at least to the eye, as in later Sindarin. Lastly, the division of this edition into two.parts is entirely due to the length of the Tales. The edition is conceived as a whole, and I hope that the second part will appear within a year of the first; but each part has its own Index and Appen- dix on Names. The second part contains what am in many respects the most interesting of the Tales: Tinuviel, Turambar (Turin), The Fall of Gondolin, and the Tale of the Nauglaf- ring (the Necklace of the Dwarves); outlines for the Tale of Earendel and the conclusion of the work; and AElfwine of England.

I THE COTTAGE OF LOST PLAY On the cover of one of the now very battered 'High School Exercise Books' in which some of the Lost Tales were composed my father wrote: The Cottage of Lost Play, which introduceth [the] Book of Lost Tales; and on the cover is also written, in my mother's hand, her initials, E.M.T., and a date, Feb. 12th 1917. In this book the tale was written out by my mother; and it is a fair copy of a very rough pencilled manuscript of my father's on loose sheets, which were placed inside the cover. Thus the date of the actual composition of this tale could have been, but probably was not, earlier than the winter of 1916-17. The fair copy follows the original text precisely; some further changes, mostly slight (other than in the matter of names), were then made to the fair copy. The text follows here in its final form. Now it happened on a certain time that a traveller from far countries, a man of great curiosity, was by desire of strange lands and the ways and dwellings of unaccustomed folk brought in a ship as far west even as the Lonely Island, Tol Eressea in the fairy speech, but which the Gnomes' call Dor Faidwen, the Land of Release, and a great tale hangs thereto. Now one day after much journeying he came as the lights of evening were being kindled in many a window to the feet of a hill in a broad and woody plain. He was now near the centre of this great island and for many days had wandered its roads, stopping each night at what dwelling of folk he might chance upon, were it hamlet or good town, about the

hour of eve at the kindling of candles. Now at that time the desire of new sights is least, even in one whose heart is that of an explorer; and then even such a son of Earendel as was this wayfarer turns his thoughts rather to supper and to rest and the telling of tales before the time of bed and sleep is come. Now as he stood at the foot of the little hill there came a faint breeze and then a flight of rooks above his head in the clear even light. The sun had some time sunk beyond the boughs of the elms that stood as far as eye could look about the plain, and some time had its last gold faded through the leaves and slipped across the glades to sleep beneath the roots and dream till dawn. Now these rooks gave voice of home-coming above him, and with a swift turn came to their dwelling in the tops of some high elms at the summit of this hill. Then thought Eriol (for thus did the people of the island after call him, and its purport is 'One who dreams alone', but of his former names the story nowhere tells): 'The hour of rest is at hand, and though I know not even the name of this fair-seeming town upon a little hill here I will seek rest and lodging and go no further till the morrow, nor go even then perchance, for the place seems fair and its breezes of a good savour. To me it has the air of holding many secrets of old and wonderful and beautiful things in its treasuries and noble places and in the hearts of those that dwell within its walls.'

Now Eriol was coming from the south and a straight road ran before him bordered at one side with a great wall of grey stone topped with many flowers, or in places overhung with great dark yews. Through them as he climbed the road he could see the first stars shine forth, even as he afterwards sang in the song which he made to that fair city. Now was he at the summit of the hill amidst its houses, and stepping as if by chance he turned aside down a winding lane, till, a little down the western slope of the hill, his eye was arrested by a tiny dwelling whose many small windows were curtained snugly, yet only so that a most warm and delicious light, as of hearts content within, looked forth. Then his heart yearned for kind company, and the desire for wayfaring died in him -- and impelled by a great longing he turned aside at this cottage door, and knocking asked one who came and opened what might be the name of this house and who dwelt therein. And it was said to him that this was Mar Vanwa Tyalieva, or the Cottage of Lost Play, and at that name he wondered greatly. There dwelt within, 'twas said, Lindo and Vaire who had built it many years ago, and with them were no few of their folk and friends and children. And at this he wondered more than before, seeing the size of the cottage; but he that opened to him, perceiving his mind, said: 'Small is the dwelling, but smaller still are they that dwell here -- for all who enter must be very small indeed, or of their own good wish become as very little folk even as they stand upon the threshold.' Then said Eriol that he would dearly desire to come therein and seek of Vaire and Lindo a night's guest-kindliness, if so they would, and if he might of his own good wish become small enough there upon the threshold. Then said the other, 'Enter,' and Eriol stepped in, and behold, it seemed a house of great spaciousness and very great delight, and the lord of it, Lindo, and his wife, Vaire, came forth to greet him; and his heart was more glad within him than it had yet been in all his wanderings, albeit since his landing in the Lonely Isle his joy had been great enough. And when Vaire had spoken the words of welcome, and Lindo had asked of him his name and whence he came and whither he might be seeking, and he had named himself the Stranger and said that he came from the Great Lands,' and that he was seeking whitherso his desire for travel led him, then was the evening meal set out in the great hall and Eriol bidden thereto. Now in this hall despite the summertide were three great fires -- one at the far end and one on either side of the table, and save for their light as Eriol entered all was in a warm gloom. But at that moment many folk came in bearing candles of all sizes and many shapes in sticks of strange pattern: many were of carven wood and others of beaten metal, and these were set at hazard about the centre table and upon those at the sides. At that same moment a great gong sounded far off in thehouse with a sweet noise, and a sound followed as of the laughter of many voices mingled with a great pattering

of feet. Then Vaire said to Eriol, seeing his face filled with a happy wonderment: 'That is the voice of Tombo, the Gong of the Children, which stands outside the Hall of Play Regained, and it rings once to summon them to

this hall at the times for eating and drinking, and three times to summon them to the Room of the Log Fire for the telling of tales,' and added Lindo: 'If at his ringing once there be laughter in the corridors and a sound of feet, then do the walls shake with mirth and stamping at the three strokes in an evening. And the sounding of the three strokes is the happiest moment in the day of Littleheart the Gong-warden, as he himself declares who has known happiness enough of old; and ancient indeed is he beyond count in spite of his merriness of soul. He sailed in Wingilot with Earendel in that last voyage wherein they sought for Kor. It was the ringing of this Gong on the Shadowy Seas that awoke the Sleeper in the Tower of Pearl that stands far out to west in the Twilit Isles.' To these words did Eriol's mind so lean, for it seemed to him that a new world and very fair was opening to him, that he heard naught else till he was bidden by Vaireto be seated. Then he looked up, and lo, the hall and all its benches and chairs were filled with children of every aspect, kind, and size, while sprinkled among them were folk of all manners and ages. In one thing only were all alike, that a look of great happiness lit with a merry expectation of further mirth and joy lay on every face. The soft light of candles too was upon them all; it shone on bright tresses and gleamed about dark hair, or here and there set a pale fire in locks gone grey. Even as he gazed all arose and with one voice sang the song of the Bringing in of the Meats. Then was the food brought in and set before them, and thereafter the bearers and those that served and those that waited, host and hostess, children and guest, sat down: but Lindo first blessed both food and company. As they ate Eriol fell into speech with Lindo and his wife, telling them tales of his old days and of his adventures, especially those he had encountered upon the journey that had brought him to the Lonely Isle, and asking in return many things concerning the fair land, and most of all of that fair city wherein he now found himself.

Lindo said to him: 'Know then that today, or more like 'twas yesterday, you crossed the borders of that region that is called Alalminore or the "Land of Elms", which the Gnomes call Gar Lossion, or the "Place of Flowers". Now this region is accounted the centre of the island, and its fairest realm; but above all the towns and villages of Alalminore is held Koromas, or as some call it, Kortirion, and this city is the one wherein you now find yourself. Both because it stands at the heart of the island, and from the height of its mighty tower, do those that speak of it with love call it the Citadel of the Island, or of the World itself. More reason is there thereto than even great love, for all the island looks to the dwellers here for wisdom and leadership, for song and lore; and here in a great korin of elms dwells Meril-i-Turinqi. (Now a korin is a great circular hedge, be it of stone or of thorn or even of trees, that encloses a green sward.) Meril comes of the blood of Inwe, whom the Gnomes call Inwithiel, he that was King of all the Eldar when they dwelt in Kor. That was in the days before hearing the lament of the world Inwe led them forth to the lands of Men: but those great and sad things and how the Eldar came to this fair and lonely island, maybe I will tell them another time. 'But after many days Ingil son of Inwe, seeing this place

to be very fair, rested here and about him gathered most of the fairest and the wisest, most of the merriest and the kindest, of all the Eldar.' Here among those many came my father Valwe who went with Noldorin to find the Gnomes, and the father of Vaire my wife, Tulkastor. He was of Aule's kindred, but had dwelt long with the Shoreland Pipers, the Solosimpi, and so came among the earliest to the island. 'Then Ingil builded the great tower4 and called the town Koromas, or "the Resting of the Exiles of Kor", but by reason of that tower it is now mostly called Kortirion.' Now about this time they drew nigh the end of the meal; then did Lindo fill his cup and after him Vaire and all those in the hall, but to Eriol he said: 'Now this which we put into our cups is limpe, the drink of the Eldar both young and old, and drinking, our hearts keep youth and our mouths grow full of song, but this drink I may not administer: Thurinqi only may give it to those not of the Eldar race, and those that drink must dwell always with the Eldar of the Island until

such time as they fare forth to find the lost families of the kindred.' Then he filled Eriol's cup, but filled it with golden wine from ancient casks of the Gnomes; and then all rose and drank 'to the Faring Forth and the Rekindling of the Magic Sun'. Then sounded the Gong of the Children thrice, and a glad clamour arose in the hall, and some swung back big oaken doors at the hall's end -- at that end which had no hearth. Then many seized those candles that were set in tall wooden sticks and held them aloft while others laughed and chattered, but all made a lane midmost of the company down which went Lindo and Vaire and Eriol, and as they passed the doors the throng followed them. Eriol saw now that they were in a short broad corridor whose walls half-way up were arrassed; and on those tapestries were many stories pictured whereof he knew not at that time the purport. Above the tapestries it seemed there were paintings, but he could not see for gloom, for the candlebearers were behind, and before him the only light came from an open door through which poured a red glow as of a big fire. 'That,' said Vaire, 'is the Tale-fire blazing in the Room of Logs; there does it burn all through the year, for 'tis a magic fire, and greatly aids the teller in his tale -- but thither we now go,' and Eriol said that that seemed better to him than aught else. Then all that company came laughing and talking into the room whence came the red glow. A fair room it was as might be felt even by the fire-flicker which danced upon the walls and low ceiling, while deep shadows lay in the nooks and corners. Round the great hearth was a multitude of soft rugs and yielding cushions strewn; and a little to one side was a deep chair with carven arms and feet. And so it was that Eriol felt at that time and at all others whereon he entered there at the hour of tale-telling, that whatso the number of the folk and children the room felt ever just great enough but not large, small enough but not overthronged. Then all sat them down where they would, old and young, but Lindo in the deep chair and Vaire upon a cushion at his feet, and Eriol rejoicing in the red blaze for all that it was summer stretched nigh the hearthstone. Then said Lindo: 'Of what shall the tales be tonight? Shall

they be of the Great Lands, and of the dwellings of Men; of the Valar and Valinor; of the West and its mysteries, of the East and its glory, of the South and its untrodden wilds, of the North and its power and strength; or of this island and its folk; or of the old days of Kor where our folk once dwelt? For that this night we entertain a guest, a man of great and excellent travel, a son meseems of Earendel, shall it be of voyaging, of beating about in a boat, of winds and the sea?" But to this questioning some answeredone thing and some another, till Eriol said: 'I pray you, if it be to the mind of the others, for this time tell me of this island, and of all this island most eagerly would I learn of this goodly house and this fair company of maids and boys, for of all houses this seems to me the most lovely and of all gatherings the sweetest I have gazed upon.' Then said Vaire: 'Know then that aforetime, in the days Of Inwe (and farther back it is hard to go in the history of the Eldar), there was a place of fair gardens in Valinor beside a silver sea. Now this place was near the confines of the realm but not far from Kor, yet by reason of its distance from the sun-tree Lindelos there was a light there as of summer evening, save only when the silver lamps werekindled on the hill at dusk, and then little lights of white would dance and quiver on the paths, chasing black shadow-dapples under the trees. This was a time of joy to the children, for it was mostly at this hour that a new comrade would come down the lane called Olore Malle or the Path of Dreams. It has been said to me, though the truth I know not, that that lane ran by devious routes to the homes of Men, but that way we never trod when we fared thither ourselves. It was a lane of deep banks and great overhanging hedges, beyond which stood many tall trees wherein a perpetual whisper seemed to live; but not seldom great glow-worms crept about its grassy borders. 'Now in this place of gardens a high gate of lattice-work that shone golden in the dusk opened upon the lane of dreams, andfrom there led winding paths of high box to the fairest of all the gardens, and amidmost of the garden stood a white cottage. Of what it was built, nor when, no one knew, nor now knows, but it was said to me that it shone with a pale

light, as it was of pearl, and its roof was a thatch, but a thatch of gold. 'Now on one side of the cot stood a thicket of white lilac and at the other end a mighty yew, from whose shoots the children fashioned bows or clamberedby his branches upon the roof. But in the lilacs every bird that ever sang sweetly gathered.and sang. Now the walls of the cottage were bent with age and its many small lattice windows were twisted into strange shapes. No one, 'tis said, dwelt in the cottage, which was however guarded secretly and jealously by the Eldar so that no harm came nigh it, and that yet might the children playing therein in freedom know of no guardianship. This was the Cottage of the Children, or of the Play of Sleep, and not of Lost Play, as has wrongly been said in song among Men -- for no play was lost then, and here alas only and now is the Cottage of Lost Play. 'These too were the earliest children -- the children of the fathers of the fathers of Men that came there; and for pity the Eldar sought to guide all who came down that lane into

the cottage and the garden, lest they strayed into Kor and became enamoured of the glory of Valinor; for then would they either stay there for ever, and great grief fall ontheir parents, or would they wander back and long for ever vainly, and become strange and wild among the children of Men. Nay, some even who wandered on to the edge of the rocks of Eldamar and there strayed, dazzled by the fair shells and the fishes of many colours, the blue pools and the silver foam, they drew back to the cottage, alluring them gently with the odour of many flowers. Yet even so there were a few who heard on that beach the sweet piping of the Solosimpi afar off and who played not with the other children but climbed to the upper windows and gazed out, straining to see the far glimpses of the sea and the magic shores beyond the shadows and the trees. 'Now for the most part the children did not often go into the house, but danced and played in the garden, gathering flowers or chasing the golden bees and butterflies with embroidered wings that the Eldar set within the garden for their joy. And many children have there become comrades, who after met and loved in the lands of Men, but of such things perchance Men know more than I can tell you. Yet some

there were who, as I have told, heard the Solosimpi piping afar off, or others who straying again beyond the garden caught a sound of the singing of the Telelli on the hill, and even some who reaching Kor afterwards returned home, and their minds and hearts were full of wonder. Of the misty aftermemories of these, of their broken tales and snatches of song, came many strange legends that delighted Men for long, and still do, it may be; for of such were the poets of the Great Lands.' 'Now when the fairies left Kor that lane was blocked for ever with great impassable rocks, and there stands of a surety the cottage empty and the garden bare to this day, and will do until long after the Faring Forth, when if all goes well the roads through Arvalin to Valinor shall be thronged with the sons and daughters of Men. But seeing that no children came there for refreshment and delight, sorrow and greyness spread amongst them and Men ceased almost to believe in, or think of, the beauty of the Eldar and the glory of the Valar, till one came from the Great Lands and besought us to relieve the darkness. 'Now there is alas no safe way for children from the Great Lands hither, but Meril-i-Turinqi hearkened to his boon and chose Lindo my husband to devise some plan of good. Now Lindo and I, Vaire, had taken under our care the children -the remainder of those who found Kor and remained with the Eldar for ever: and so here we builded of good magic this Cottage of Lost Play: and here old tales, old songs, and elfin music are treasured and rehearsed. Ever and anon our children fare forth again to find the Great Lands, and go about among the lonely children and whisper to them at dusk in early bed by night-light and candle-flame, or comfort those that weep. Some I am told listen to the complaints of those that are punished or chidden, and hear their tales and feign to take their part, and this seems to me a quaint and merry service. 'Yet all whom we send return not and that is great grief to us, for it is by no means out of small love that the Eldar held children from Kor, but rather of thought for the homes of

Men; yet in the Great Lands, as you know well, there are fair places and lovely regions of much allurement, wherefore it is only for the great necessity that we adventure any of the

children that are with us. Yet the most come back hither and tell us many stories and many sad things of their journeys -and now I have told most of what is to tell of the Cottage of Lost Play.' Then Eriol said: 'Now these are tidings sad and yet good to hear, and I remember me of certain words that my father spake in my early boyhood. It had long, said he, been a tradition in our kindred that one of our father's fathers would speak of a fair house and magic gardens, of a wondrous town, and of a music full of all beauty and longing -and these things he said he had seen and heard as a child, though how and where was not told. Now all his life was he restless, as if a longing half-expressed for unknown things dwelt within him; and 'tis said that he died among rocks on a lonely coast on a night of storm -- and moreover that most of his children and their children since have been of a restless mind -- and methinks I know now the truth of the matter.' And Vaire said that 'twas like to be that one of his kindred had found the rocks of Eldamar in those old days. NOTES 1 Gnomes: the Second Kindred, the Noldoli (later Noldor). For the use of the word Gnomes see p. 38; and for the linguistic distinction made here see pp. 46-7. 2 The 'Great Lands' are the lands East of the Great Sea. The term 'Middle-earth' is never used in the Lost Tales, and in fact does not appear until writings of the 1930s. 3 In both MSS the words 'of all the Eldar' are followed by: 'for of most noble there were none, seeing that to be of the blood of the Eldar is equal and sufficient', but this was struck out in the second MS. 4 The original reading was 'the great Tirion', changed to 'the great tower'. 5 This sentence, from 'a son meseems...', replaced in the original MS an earlier reading: 'shall it be of Earendel the wanderer, who alone of the sons of Men has had great traffic with the Valar and Elves, who alone of their kindred has seen beyond Taniquetil, even he who sails for ever in the firmament? ' 6 The original reading was 'before the days of', changed to 'in the first days of', and then to the reading given. 7 This last phrase was an addition to the second MS. Changes made to names in The Cottage of Lost Play The names were at this time in a very fluid state, reflecting in part the rapid development of the languages that was then taking place. Changes were made to the original text, and further changes, at different times, to the second text, but it seems unnecessary in the following notes to go into thedetail of when and where the changes weremade. The names are given in the order of their occurrence in the tale. The signs > and < are used to mean 'changed to' and 'changed from'. Dor Faidwen The Gnomish name of Tol Eressea was changed many times: Gar Eglos > Dor Edloth > Dor Usgwen >

Dor Uswen > Dor Faidwen. Mar Vanwa Tyalieva In the original text a space was left for the Elvish name, subsequently filled in as Mar Vanwa Talieva. Creat Lands Throughout the tale Great Lands is an emendation of Outer Lands, when the latter was given a different meaning (lands West of the Great Sea). Wingilot < Wingelot. Gar Lossion < Losgar. Karomas < Kormas. Meril-i-Turinqi The first text has only Turinqi, with in one place a space left for a personal name. Inwe < Ing at each occurrence. Inwithiel < Gim Githil, which was in turn < Githil. Ingil < Ingilmo. Valwe < Manwe. It seems possible that Manwe as the name of Vaire's father was a mere slip. Noldorin The original reading was Noldorin whom the Gnomes name Goldriel; Goldriel was changed to Golthadriel, and then the reference to the Gnomish name was struck out, leaving only Noldorin. Tulkastor < Tulkasse < Turenbor. Solosimpi < Solosimpe at each occurrence.

Lindelos Barahir see p. 43. Commentary on The Tale of Tinuviel. The primary narrative. In this section I shall consider only the conduct of the main story, and have for the moment such questions as the wider history implied in it, Tinwelint's people and his dwelling, or the geography of the lands that appear in the story.

The story of Beren's coming upon Tinuviel in the moonlit glade in its earliest recorded form (pp. 11-- 12) was never changed in its central image; and it should be noticed that the passage in The Silmarillion (p. 165) is an extremely concentrated and exalted rendering of the scene: many elements not mentioned there were never in fact lost. In a very late

reworking of the passage in the Lay of Leithian* the hemlocks and the white moths still appear, and Daeron the minstrel is present when Beren comes to the glade. But there are nonetheless the most remarkable differences; and the chief of these is of course that Beren was here no mortal Man, but an Elf, one of the Noldoli, and the absolutely essential element of the story of Beren and Luthien is not present. It will be seen later (pp. 71 -- 2, 139) that this was not originally so, however: in the now lost (because erased) first form of the Tale of Tinuviel he had been a Man (it is ' for this reason that I have said that the reading man in the manuscript (see p. 33 and note 10), later changed to Gnome, is a 'significant slip'). Several years after the composition of the tale in the form in which we have it he became a Man again, though at that time (1925 -- 6) my father appears to have hesitated long on the matter of the elvish or mortal nature of Beren. In the tale there is, necessarily, a quite different reason for the hostility and distrust shown to Beren in Artanor (Doriath) -- namely that 'the Elves of the woodland thought of the Gnomes of Dor Lomin as treacherous creatures, cruel and faithless' (see below, p. 65). It seems clear that at this time the history of Beren and his father (Egnor) was only very sketchily devised; there is in any case no hint of the story of the outlaw band led by his father and its betrayal by Gorlim the Unhappy (The Silmarillion pp. 162ff.) before the first form of the Lay of Leithian, where the story appears fully formed (the Lay was in being to rather beyond this point by the late summer of 1925). But an association of Beren's father (changed to Beren himself) with Urin (Hurin) as 'brother in arms' is mentioned in the typescript version of the tale (pp. 44--5); according to the latest of the outlines for Gilfanon's Tale (I.240) 'Urin and Egnor marched with countless battalions' (against the forces of Melko). In the old story, Tinuviel had no meetings with Beren before the day when he boldly accosted her at last, and it was at that very time that she led him to Tinwelint's cave; they were not lovers, Tinuviel knew nothing of Beren but that he was enamoured of her dancing, and it seems that she brought him before her father as a matter of courtesy, the natural thing to do. The betrayal of Beren to Thingol by Daeron (The Silmarillion p. 166) therefore has no place in the old story -- there is nothing to betray; and indeed it is not shown in the tale that Dairon knew anything whatsoever of Beren before Tinuviel led him into the cave, beyond having once seen his face in the moonlight. * The long unfinished poem in rhyming couplets in which is told the story of Beren and Luthien Tinuviel; composed in 1925-31, but parts of it substantially rewritten many years later. Despite these radical differences in the narrative structure, it is remarkable how many features of the scene in Tinwelint's hall (pp.12-13), when Beren stood before the king, endured, while all the inner significance was shifted and enlarged. To the beginning go back, for instance, Beren's abashment and silence, Tinuviel's answering for him, the sudden rising of his courage and uttering of his desire without preamble or hesitation. But the tone is altogether lighter and less grave than it afterwards became; in the jeering laughter of Tinwelint, who treats the matter as a jest and Beren as a benighted fool, there is no hint of what is explicit in the later story: 'Thus he wrought the doom of Doriath, and was ensnared within the curse of Mandos' (The Silmarillion p. 167). The Silmarils are indeed famous, and they have a holy power (p. 34), but the fate of the world is not bound up with them (The Silmarillion p. 67); Beren is an Elf, if of a feared and distrusted people, and his request lacks the deepest dimension of outrage; and he and Tinuviel are not lovers. In this passage is the first mention of the I ron Crown of Melko, and the setting of the Silmarils in the Crown; and here again is a detail that was never lost: 'Never did this crown leave his head' (cf. The Silmarillion

p. 81: 'That crown he never took from his head, though its weight became a deadly weariness'). But from this point Veanne's story diverges in an altogether unexpected fashion from the later narrative. At no other place in the Last Tales is the subsequent transformation more remarkable than in this, the precursor of the story of the capture of Beren and Felagund and their companions by Sauron the Necromancer, the imprisonment and death of all save Beren in the dungeons of Tol-in-Gaurhoth (the Isle of Werewolves in the river Sirion), and the rescue of Beren and overthrow of Sauron by Luthien and Huan. Most notably, what may be referred to as 'the Nargothrond Element' is entirely absent, and in so far as it already existed had as yet made no contact with the story of Beren and Tinuviel (for Nargothrond, not yet so named, at this period see pp. 81, 123 -- 4). Beren has no ring of Felagund, he has no companions on his northward journey, and there is no relationship between (on the one hand) the story of his capture, his speech with Melko, and his dispatch to the house of Tevildo, and (on the other) the events of the later narrative whereby Beren and the band of Elves out of Nargothrond found themselves in Sauron's dungeon. Indeed, all the complex background of legend, of battles and rivalries, oaths and alliances, out of which the story of Beren and Luthien arises in The Silmarillion, is very largely absent. The castle of the Cats 'is' the tower of Sauron on Tol-in-Gaurhoth, but only in the sense that it occupies the same 'space' in the narrative: beyond this there is no point in seeking even shadowy resemblances between the two establishments. The monstrous gormandising cats, their kitchens and their sunning terraces, and their

engagingly Elvish-feline names (Miaugion, Miaule, Meoita) all disappeared without trace. Did Tevildo? It would scarcely be true, I think, to say even that Sauron 'originated' in a cat: in the next phase of the legends the Necromancer (Thu) has no feline attributes. On the other hand it would be wrong to regard it as a simple matter of replacement (Thu stepping into the narrative place vacated by Tevildo) without any element of transformation of what was previously there. Tevildo's immediate successor is 'the Lord of Wolves', himself a werewolf, and he retains the Tevildo-trait of hating Huan more than any other creature in the world. Tevildo was 'an evil fay in beastlike shape' (p. 29); and the battle between the two great beasts, the hound against the werewolf (originally the hound against the demon in feline form) was never lost. When the tale returns to Tinuviel in Artanor the situation is quite the reverse: for the story of her imprisonment in the house in Hirilorn and her escape from it never underwent any significant change. The passage in The Silmarillion (p. 172) is indeed very brief, but its lack of detail is due to compression rather than to omission based on dissatisfaction; the Lay of Leithian, from which the prose account in The Silmarillion directly derives, is in this passage so close, in point of narrative detail, to the Tale of Tinuviel as to be almost identical with it. It may be observed that in this part of the story the earliest version had a strength that was diminished later, in that the duration of Tinuviel's imprisonment and her journey to Beren's rescue relates readily enough to that of Beren's captivity, which was intended by his captors to be unending; whereas in the later story there is a great deal of event and movement (with the addition of Luthien's captivity in Nargothrond) to be fitted into the time when Beren was awaiting his death in the dungeon of the Necromancer. While the strong element of 'explanatory' beast-fable (concerning cats and dogs) was to be entirely eliminated, and Tevildo Prince of Cats replaced by the Necromancer, Huan nonetheless remained from it as the great Hound of Valinor. His encounter with Tinuviel in the woods, her inability to escape from him, and indeed his love for her from the

moment of their meeting (suggested in the tale, p. 23, explicit in The Silmarillion p. 173), were already present, though the context of their encounter and the motives of Huan were wholly different from the absence of 'the Nargothrond Element' (Felagund, Celegorm and Curufin). In the story of the defeat of Tevildo and the rescue of Beren the germ of the later legend is clearly seen, though for the most part only in broad structural resemblances. It is curious to observe that the loud speaking of Tinuviel sitting perched on the sill of the kitchen hatch in the castle of the Cats, so that Beren might hear, is the precursor of her singing on the bridge of Tol-in-Gaurhoth the song that Beren heard in his dungeon (The Silmarillion p. 174). Tevildo's intention to hand her over to Melko remained in Sauron's similar purpose (ibid.); the killing of the cat

Oikeroi ( p.28) is the germ of Huan's fight with Draugluin -- the skin of Huan's dead opponent is put to the same use in either case (pp. 30-1, The Silmarillion pp. 178-- 9); the battle of Tevildo and Huan was to become that of Huan and Wolf-Sauron, and with essentially the same outcome: Huan released his enemy when he yielded the mastery of his dwelling. This last is very notable: the utterance by Tinuviel of the spell which bound stone to stone in the evil castle (p. 29). Of course, when this waswritten the castle of Tevildo was an adventitious feature in the story -- it had no previous history: it was an evil place through and through, and the spell (deriving from Melko) that Tevildo was forced to reveal was the secret of Tevildo's own power over his creatures as well as the magic that held the stones together. With the entry of Felagund into the eloping legend and the Elvish watchtower on Tol Sirion (Minas Tirith: The Silmarillion pp. 120, 155 -- 6) captured by the Necromancer, the spell is displaced: for it cannot be thought to be the work of Felagund, who built the fortress, since if it had been he would have been able to pronounce it in the dungeon and bring the place down over their heads -a less evil way for them to die. This element in the legend remained, however, and is fully present in The Silmarillion (p. 175), though since my father did not actually say there that Sauron told Huan and Luthien what the words were, but only that he 'yielded himself', one may miss the significance of what happened: And she said: 'There everlastingly thy naked self shall endure the torment of his scorn, pierced by his eyes, unless thou yield to me the mastery of thy tower.' Then Sauron yielded himself, and Luthien took the mastery of the isle and all that was there.... Then Luthien stood upon the bridge, and declared her power: and the spell was loosed that bound stone to stone, and the gates were thrown down, and the walls opened, and the pits laid bare. Here again the actual matter of the narrative is totally different in the Carly and late forms of the legend: in The Silmarillion 'many thralls and ives came forth in wonder and dismay... for they had lain long in darkness of Sauron', whereas in the tale the inmates who emerged the shaken dwelling (other than Beren and the apparently inconsequent figure of the blind slave-Gnome Gimli) were a host of cats, reduced by the breaking of Tevildo's spell to 'puny size'. (If my fatherhad used in the tale names other than Huan, Beren, and Tinuviel, and inthe absence of all other knowledge, including that of authorship, it wouldnot be easy to demonstrate from a simple comparison between this part ofthe Tale and the story as told in The Silmarillion that the resemblances were more than superficial and accidental.) A more minor narrative point may be noticed here. The typescriptversi on would presumably have treated the fight of Huan and Tevildo

somewhat differently, for in the manuscript Tevildo and his companion can flee up great trees (p. 28), whereas in the typescript nothing grew in the Withered Dale (where Huan was to lie feigning sick) save 'low bushes of scanty leaves' (p. 48). In the remainder of the story the congruence between early and late forms is far closer. The narrative structure in the tale may be summarised thus: Beren is attired for disguise in the fell of the dead cat Oikeroi. He and Tinuviel journey together to Angamandi. Tinuviel lays a spell of sleep on Karkaras the wolf-ward of Angamandi. They enter Angamandi, Beren slinks in his beast-shape beneath the seat of Melko, and Tinuviel dances before Melko. All the host of Angamandi and finally Melko himself are cast into sleep, and Melko's iron crown rolls from his head. Tinuviel rouses Beren, who cuts a Silmaril from the crown, and the blade snaps. The sleepers stir, and Beren and Tinuviel flee back to the gates, but find Karkaras awake again. Karkaras bites off Beren's outthrust hand holding the Silmaril. Karkaras becomes mad with the pain of the Silmaril in his belly, for the Silmaril is a holy thing and sears evil flesh. Karkaras goes raging south to Artanor. Beren and Tinuviel return to Artanor; they go before Tinwelint and Beren declares that a Silmaril is in his hand. The hunting of the wolf takes place, and Mablung the Heavyhanded is one of the hunters. Beren is slain by Karkaras, and is borne back to the cavern of Tinwelint on a bier of boughs; dying he gives the Silmaril to Tinwelint. Tinuviel follows Beren to Mandos, and Mandos permits them to return into the world. Changing the catskin of Oikeroi to the wolfskin of Draugluin, and altering some other names, this would do tolerably well as a precis of the story in The Silmarillion! But of course it is devised as a summary of similarities. There are major differences as well as a host of minor ones that do not appear in it. Again, most important is the absence of 'the Nargothrond Element'. When this combined with the Beren legend it introduced Felagund as Beren's companion, Luthien's imprisonment in Nargothrond by Celegorm and Curufin, her escape with Huan the hound of Celegorm, and the attack on Beren and Luthien as they returned from Tol-inGaurhoth by Celegorm and Curufin, now fleeing from Nargothrond (The Silmarillion pp. 173 -- 4, I /6 -- 8).

The narrative after the conclusion of the episode of 'the Thraldom of Beren' is conducted quite differently in the old story (pp. 30 -- 1), in that here Huan is with Beren and Tinuviel; Tinuviel longs for her home, and Beren is grieved because he loves the life in the woods with the dogs, but he resolves the impasse by determining to obtain a Silmaril, and though Huan'thinks their plan is folly he gives them the fell of Oikeroi, clad in which Beren sets out with Tinuviel for Angamandi. In The Silmarillion (p. 177) likewise, Beren, after long wandering in the woods with Luthien (though not with Huan), resolves to set forth again on the quest of the Silmaril, but Luthien's stance in the matter is different: 'You must choose, Beren, between these two: to relinquish the quest and your oath and seek a life of wandering upon the face of the earth; or to hold to your word and challenge the power of darkness upon its throne. But on either road I shall go with you, and our doom shall be alike.'

There then intervened the attack on Beren and Luthien by Celegorm and Curufin, when Huan, deserting his master, joined himself to them; they returned together to Doriath, and when they got there Beren left Luthien sleeping and went back northwards by himself, riding Curufin's horse. He was overtaken on the edge of Anfauglith by Huan bearing Luthien on his back and bringing from Tol-in-Gaurhoth the skins of Draugluin and of Sauron's bat-messenger Thuringwethil (of whom in the old story there is no trace); attired in these Beren and Luthien went to Angband. Huan is here their active counsellor. The later legend is thus more full of movement and incident in this part than is the Tale of Tinuviel (though the final form was not achieved all at one stroke, as may be imagined); and in the Silmarillion form this is the more marked from the fact that the account is a compression and a summary of the long Lay of Leithian.* * Cf. Professor T. A. Shippey, The Road to Middle-earth, 1982, p. 193: 'In "Beren and Luthien" as a whole there is too much plot. The other side of that criticism is that on occasion Tolkien has to bc rather brisk with his own inventions. Celegorm wounds Beren, and the hound Huan turns on his master and pursues him; "returning he brought to Luthien a herb out of the forest. With that leaf she staunched Beren's wound, and by her arts and her love she healed him...." The motif of the healing herb is a common one, the centre for instance o( the Breton lai of Eliduc (turned into conte by Marie de France). But in that it occupies a whole scene, if not a whole poem. In The Silmarillion it appears only to be dismissed in two lines, while Beren's wound is inflicted and healed in five. Repeatedly one has this sense of summary...' This sense is eminently justified! In the Lay of Leithian the wounding and the healing with the herb occupy some 64 lines. (Cl. my Foreword to The Silmarillion, p. 8.) In the Tale of Tinuviel the account of Beren's disguise is characteristically detailed: his instruction by Tinuviel in feline behaviour, his heat and discomfort inside the skin. Tinuviel's disguise as a bat has however not yet emerged, and whereas in The Silmarillion when confronted by

Carcharoth she 'cast back her foul raiment' and 'commanded him to sleep', here she used once more the magical misty robe spun of her hair: 'the black strands of her dark veil she cast in his eyes' (p. 31). The indifference of Karkaras to the false Oikeroi contrasts with Carcharoth's suspicion of the false Druagluin, of whose death he had heard tidings: in the old story it is emphasised that no news of the discomfiture of Tevildo (and the death of Oikeroi) had yet reached Angamandi. The encounter of Tinuviel with Melko is given with far more detail than in The Silmarillion (here much compressed from its source); notable is the phrase (p. 32) 'he leered horribly, for his dark mind pondered some evil', forerunner of that in The Silmarillion (p. 180): Then Morgoth looking upon her beauty conceived in his thought an evil lust, and a design more dark than any that had yet come into his heart since he fled from Valinor. We are never told anything more explicit. Whether Melko's words to Tinuviel, 'Who art thou that flittest about my halls like a bat?', and the description of her dancing 'noiseless as a bat', were the germ of her later bat-disguise cannot be said, though it seems possible. The knife with which Beren cut the Silmaril from the Iron Crown has a quite different provenance in the Tale of Tinuviel, being a kitchen-knife that Beren took from Tevildo's castle (pp. 29, 33); in The Silmarillion it was Angrist, the famous knife made by Telchar which Beren took from Curufin. The sleepers of Angamandi are here disturbed by the sound of the snapping of the knife-blade; in The Silmarillion it is the shard flying from the snapped knife and striking Morgoth's cheek that makes him groan and stir.

There is a minor difference in the accounts of the meeting with the wolf as Beren and Tinuviel fled out. In The Silmarillion 'Luthien was spent, and she had not time nor strength to quell the wolf'; in the tale it seems that she might have done so if Beren had not been precipitate. Much more important, there appears here for the first time the conception of the holy power of the Silmarils that burns unhallowed flesh.* The escape of Tinuviel and Beren from Angamandi and their return to Artanor (pp. 34 -- 6) is treated quite differently in the Tale of Tinuviel. In The Silmarillion (pp. 182 -- 3) they were rescued by the Eagles and set down on the borders of Doriath; and far more is made of the healing of Beren's wound, in which Huan plays a part. In the old story Huan comes to them later, after their long southward flight on foot. In both accounts there is a discussion between them as to whether or not they should return to her father's hall, but it is quite differently conducted -- in the tale it is she who persuades Beren to return, in The Silmarillion it is Beren who persuades her. * In an early note there is a reference to 'the sacred Silmarils': I. r 6g, note z.

There is a curious feature in the story of the Wolf-hunt (pp. 38 -- g) which may be considered here (see p. 50, notes 12-15). At first, it was Tinuviel's brother who took part in the hunt with Tinwelint, Beren, and Huan, and his name is here Tifanto, which was the name throughout the tale before its replacement by Dairon.* Subsequently 'Tifanto' -- withoutpass ing through the stage of Dairon -- was replaced by Mablung the heavy-handed, chief of the king's thanes', who here makes his first appearance, as the fourth member of the hunt. But earlier in the tale it is told that Tifanto > Dairon, leaving Artanor to seek Tinuviel, became utterly lost, 'and came never back to Elfinesse' (p. 21), and the loss of Tifanto > Dairon is referred to again when Beren and Tinuviel returned to Artanor (pp. 36 -- 7). Thus on the one hand Tifanto was lost, and it is a grief to Tinuviel on her return to learn of it, but on the other he was present at the Wolf-hunt. Tifanto was then changed to Dairon throughout the tale, except in the story of the Wolf-hunt, where Tifanto was replaced by a new character, Mablung. This shows that Tifanto was removed from the hunt before the change of name to Dairon, but does not explain how, under the name Tifanto, he was both lost in the wilds and present at the hunt. Since there is nothing in the MS itself to explain this puzzle, I can only conclude that my father did, in fact, write at first that Tifanto was lost and never came back, and also that he took part in the Wolf-hunt; but observing this contradiction he introduced Mablung in the latter role (and probably did this even before the tale was completed, since at the last appearance of Mablung his name was written thus, not emended from Tifanto: see note 15). It was subsequent to this that Tifanto was emended, wherever it still stood, to Dairon. In the tale the hunt is differently managed from the story in The Silmarillion (where, incidentally, Beleg Strongbow was present). It is curious that all (including, as it appears, Huan!) save Beren were asleep when Karkaras came on them ('in Beren's watch', p. 39). In The Silmarillion Huan slew Carcharoth and was slain by Aim, whereas here Karkaras met his death from the king's spear, and the boy Ausir tells at the end that Huan lived on to find Beren again at the time of 'the great deeds of the Nauglafring' (p. 41). Of Huan's destiny, that he should not die 'until he encountered the mightiest wolf that would ever walk the world', and of his being permitted 'thrice only ere his death to speak with words' (The Silmarillion p. 173), there l' is nothing here. The most remarkable feature of the Tale of Tinuviel remains the fact that in its earliest extant form Beren was an Elf; and in this connection very notable are the words of the boy at the end (p. 40):

* The idea that Timpinen (Tinfang Warble) was the son of Tinwelint and sister of Tinuviel (see I. to6, note r) had been abandoned. Tifanto/Dairon is now named with Tinfang and I vie as 'the three most magic players of the Elves' (p. s o) . Yet said Mandos to those twain: 'Lo, 0 Elves, it is not to any life of perfect joy that I dismiss you, for such may no longer be found in all the world where sits Melko of the evil heart -- and know ye that ye mill become mortal even as Men, and when ye fare hither again it will be for ever, unless the Gods summon you indeed to Valinor.' In the tale of The Coming of the Valar and the Building of Valinor there occurs the following passage (I. 76; commentary I. 90): Thither [i.e. to Mandos] in after days fared the Elves of all the clans who were by illhap slain with weapons or did die of grief for those that were slain -- and only so might the Eldar die, and then it was only for a while. There Mandos spake their doom, and there they waited in the darkness, dreaming of their past deeds, until such time as he appointed when they might again be born into their children, and go forth to laugh and sing again. The same idea occurs in the tale of The Music of the Ainur (1. 59). The peculiar dispensation of Mandos in the case of Beren and Tinuviel as here conceived is therefore that their whole 'natural' destiny as Elves was changed: having died as Elves might die (from wounds or from grief) they were not reborn as new beings, but returned from Mandos in their own persons -- yet now 'mortal even as Men'. The earliest eschatology is too unclear to allow of a satisfactory interpretation of this 'mortality', and the passage in The Building of Valinor on the fates of Men (1.77) is particularly hard to understand (see the commentary on it, I. goff.). But it seems possible that the words 'even as Men' in the address of Mandos to Beren and Tinuviel were included to stress the finality of whatever second deaths they might undergo; their departure would be as final as that of Men, there would be no second return in their own persons, and no reincarnation. They will remain in Mandos ('when ye fare hither again it will be for ever') -- unless they are summoned by the Gods to dwell in Valinor. These last words should probably be related to the passage in The Building of Valinor concerning the fate of certain Men (1.77): Few are they and happy indeed for whom at a season doth Nornore the herald of the Gods set out. Then ride they with him in chariots or upon good horses down into the vale of Valinor and feast in the halls of Valmar, dwelling in the houses of the Gods until the Great End come. Places and peoples in the Tale of Tinuviel. To consider first what can be learned of the geography of the Great Lands from this tale: the early 'dictionary' of the Gnomish language

makes it clear that the meaning of Artanor was 'the Land Beyond', as it is interpreted in the text (p. 9). Several passages in the Lost Tales cast light on this expression. In an outline for Gilfanon's untold tale (I. 240) the Noldoli exiled from Valinor now fought for the first time with the Orcs and captured the pass of the Bitter Hills; thus they escaped from the Land of Shadows... They entered the Forest of Artanor and the Region of the Great Plains... (which latter, I suggested, may be the forerunner of the later Talath Dirnen, the Guarded Plain of Nargothrond). The tale to follow Gilfanon's, according to the projected scheme (I. 241), was to be that of ",-Tinuviel, and this outline begins: 'Beren son of Egnor wandered out of Dor Lomin [i.e. Hisilome, see I. 112] into Artanor...' In the present tale, it is said that Beren came 'through the terrors of the Iron Mountains until he reached the Lands Beyond' (p. 11), and also (p. 21 ) that some of the Dogs 'roamed the woods of Hisilome or passing the mountainous places fared even at times into the region of Artanor and the lands beyond and to the south'. And finally, in the Tale of Turambar (p. 72) there is a

riference to 'the road over the dark hills of Hithlum into the great forests of the Land Beyond where in those days Tinwelint the hidden king had his abode'. It is quite clear, then, that Artanor, afterwards called Doriath (which appears in the title to the typescript text of the Tale of Tinuviel, together with an earlier form Dor Athro, p. 41), lay in the original conception m much the same relation to Hisilome (the Land of Shadow(s), Dor Lomin, Aryador) as does Doriath to Hisilome (Hisilome) in The Silmarillion: to the south, and divided from it by a mountain-range, the lion Mountains or Bitter Hills. In commenting on the tale of The Theft of Melko and the Darkening Valinor I have noticed (I. 158 -- 9) that whereas in the Lost Tales Hisilome is declared to be beyond the Iron Mountains, it is also said (in the Tale of Turambar, p. 77) that these mountains were so named from Angband, the Hells of Iron, which lay beneath 'their northernmost fastnesses', and that therefore there seems to be a contradictory usage of the term 'Iron Mountains' within the Lost Tales -- 'unless it can be supposed that these mountains were conceived as a continuous range, the southerly extension (the later Mountains of Shadow) forming the southern fence of Hisilome, while the northern peaks, being above Angband, gave the range its name'. Now in the Tale of Tinuviel Beren, journeying north from Artanor, drew nigh to the lower hills and treeless lands that warned of the approach of the bleak Iron Mountains' (p. 14). These he had previously traversed, coming out of Hisilome; but now 'he followed the Iron Mountains till he drew nigh to the terrible regions of Melko's abode'.

This seems to support the suggestion that the mountainsfencing Hisilome from the Lands Beyond were continuous with those above Angband; and we may compare the little primitive map (1.81), where the mountain range f isolates Hisilome (g): see I. I 12, 135. The implication is that 'dim' or 'black' Hisilome had no defence against Melko. There appear now also the Mountains of Night (pp. 20, 46 -- 7), and it seems clear that the great pinewoods of Taurfuin, the Forest of Night, grew upon those heights (in The Silmarillion Dorthonion 'Land of Pines', afterwards named Taur-nu-Fuin). Dairon was lost there, but Tinuviel, though she passed near, did not enter 'that dark region'. There is nothing to show that it was not placed then as it was later -- to the east of Ered Wethrin, the Mountains of Shadow. It is also at least possible that the description (in the manuscript version only, p. 23) of Tinuviel, on departing from Huan, leaving 'the shelter of the trees' and coming to 'a region of long grass' is a first intimation of the great plain of Ard-galen (called after its desolation Anfauglith and Dor-nu-Fauglith), especially if this is related to the passage in the typescript version telling of Tinuviel's meeting with Huan 'in a little glade nigh to the forest's borders, where the first grasslands begin that are nourished by the upper waters of the river Sirion' (p. 47). After their escape from Angamandi Huan found Beren and Tinuviel 'in that northward region of Artanor that was called afterward Nan Dumgorthin, the land of the dark idols' (p. 35). In the Gnomish dictionary Nan Dumgorthin is defined as 'a land of dark forest east of Artanor where on a wooded mountain were hidden idols sacrificed to by some evil tribes of renegade men' (dum 'secret, not to be spoken', dumgort, dungort 'an (evil) idol'). In the Lay of the Children of Hurin in alliterative verse Turin and his companion Flinding (later Gwindor), fleeing after the death of Beleg Strongbow, came to this land: There the twain enfolded phantom twilight and dim mazes dark, unholy, in Nan Dungorthin where nameless gods have shrouded shrines in shadows secret, more old than Morgoth or the ancient lords

the golden Gods of the guarded West. But the ghostly dwellers of that grey valley hindered nor hurt them, and they held their course with creeping flesh and quaking limb. Yet laughter at whiles with lingering echo, as distant mockery of demon voices there harsh and hollow in the hushed twilight Flinding fancied, fell, unwholesome... There are, I believe, no other references to the gods of Nan Dumgorthin. In the poem the land was placed west of Sirion; and finally, as Nan

Dungortheb 'the Valley of Dreadful Death', it becomes in The Silmarillion (pp. 81, 121) a 'no-land' between the Girdle of Melian and Ered Gorgoroth, the Mountains of Terror. But the description of it in the Tale of Tinuviel as a 'northward region of Artanor' clearly does not imply that it lay within the protective magic of Gwendeling, and it seems that this 'zone' was originally less distinctly bounded, and less extensive, than 'the Girdle of Melian' afterwards became. Probably Artanor was conceived at this time as a great region of forest in the heart of which was Tinwelint's cavern, and only his immediate domain was protected by the power of the queen: Hidden was his dwelling from the vision and knowledge of Melko by the magics of Gwendeling the fay, and she wove spells about the paths thereto that none but the Eldar might tread them easily, and so was the king secured from all dangers save it be treachery alone. (p. 9). It seems, also, that her protection was originally by no means so complete and so mighty a wall of defence as it became. Thus, although Orcs and wolves disappeared when Beren and Tinuviel 'stepped within the circle of Gwendeling's magic that hid the paths from evil things and kept harm from the regions of the woodelves' (p. 35), the fear is expressed that even if Beren and Tinuviel reached the cavern of King Tinwelint 'they would but draw the chase behind them thither' (p. 34), and Tinwelint's people feared that Melko would 'upraise his strength and come utterly to crush them and Gwendeling's magic have not the strength to withhold the numbers of the Orcs' (p. 36). The picture of Menegroth beside Esgalduin, accessible only by the bridge (The Silmarillion pp. 92 -- 3) goes back to the beginning, though neither cave nor river are named in the tale. But (as will be seen more emphatically in later tales in this book) Tinwelint, the wood-fairy in his cavern, had a long elevation before him, to become ultimately Thingol of the Thousand-Caves ('the fairest dwelling of any king that has ever been east of the Sea'). In the beginning, Tinwelint's dwelling was not a subterranean city full of marvels, silver fountains falling into basins of marble and pillars carved like trees, but a rugged cave; and if in the typescript version the cave comes to be 'vaulted immeasureable', it is still illuminated only by the dim and flickering light of torches (pp. 43, 46). There have been earlier references in the Lost Tales to Tinwelint and the place of his dwelling. In a passage added to, but then rejected from, the tale of The Chaining of Melko (I. 106, note x) it is said that he was lost in Hisilome and met Wendelin there; 'loving her he was content to leave his folk and dance for ever in the shadows'. In The Coming of the Elves (I.115) 'Tinwe abode not long with his people, and yet 'tis said lives still lord of the scattered Elves of Hisilome'; and in the same tale (I. 118 -- 19) the 'Lost Elves' were still there 'long after when Men were

shut in Hisilome by Melko', and Men called them the Shadow Folk, and feared them. But in the Tale of Tinuviel the conception has changed. Tinwelint is now a king ruling, not in Hisilome, but in Artanor.* (It is not said where it was that he came upon Gwendeling.)

In the account (manuscript version only, see pp. g, 42) of Tinwelint's people there is mention of Elves 'who remained in the dark', and this obviously refers to Elves who never left the Waters of Awakening. (Of course those who were lost on the march from Palisor also never left 'the dark' (i.e. they never came to the light of the Trees), but the distinction made in this sentence is not between the darkness and the light but between those who remained and those who set out). On the emergence of this idea in the course of the writing of the Lost Tales see I.234. Of Tinwelint's subjects 'the most were Ilkorindi', and they must be those who 'had been lost upon the march from Palisor' (earlier, 'the Lost Elves of Hisilome'). Here, a major difference in essential conception between the old legend and the form in The Silmarillion is apparent. These Ilkorindi of Tinwelint's following ('eerie and strange beings' whose 'dark songs and chantings... faded in the wooded places or echoed in deep caves') are described in terms applicable to the wild Avari ('the Unwilling') of The Silmarillion; but they are of course actually the precursors of the Greyelves of Doriath. The term Eldar is here equivalent to Elves ('all the Eldar both those who remained in the dark or had been lost upon the march from Palisor') and is not restricted to those who made, or at least embarked on, the Great Journey; all were Ilkorindi -- Dark Elves -- if they never passed over the Sea. The later significance of the Great Journey in conferring 'Eldarin' status was an aspect of the elevation of the Greyelves of Beleriand, bringing about a distinction of the utmost importance within the category of the Moriquendi or 'Elves of the Darkness' -- the Avari (who were not Eldar) and the Umanyar (the Eldar who were 'not of Aman'): see the table 'The Sundering of the Elves' given in The Silmarillion. Thus: Lost Tales. of Kor. Silmarillion. Avari. Eldar ( of the Great Lands. (the Darkness): Ilkorindi Eldar. (of the Great Journey). of Aman of Middleearth. (Umanyar). But among Tinwelint's subjects there were also Noldoli, Gnomes. This matter is somewhat obscure, but at least it may be observed that the manuscript and typescript versions of the Tale of Tinuviel do not envisage precisely the same situation. * In the outlines for Gilfanon's Tale the 'Shadow Folk' of Hisilome have ceased to be Elves and become 'fays' whose origin is unknown: I. 237, 239. The manuscript text is perhaps not perfectly explicit on the subject, but it is said (p. g) that of Tinwelint's subjects 'the most were Ilkorindi', and that before the rising of the Sun 'already were their numbers mingled with a many wandering Gnomes'. Yet Dairon fled from the apparition of Beren in the forest because 'all the Elves of the woodland thought of the Gnomes of Dor Lomin as treacherous creatures, cruel and faithless' (p. z x); and 'Dread and suspicion was between the Eldar and those of their kindred that had tasted the slavery of Melko, and in this did the evil deeds of the Gnomes at the Haven of the Swans revenge itself' (p. x x).

The hostility of the Elves of Artanor to Gnomes was, then, specifically a hostility to the Gnomes of Hisilome (Dor Lomin), who were suspected of being under the will of Melko (and this is probably a foreshadowing of the suspicion and rejection of Elves escaped from Angband described in The Silmarillion p. 156). In the manuscript it is said (p. 9) that all the Elves of the Great Lands (those who remained in Palisor, those who were lost on the march, and the Noldoli returned from Valinor) fell beneath the power of Melko, though many escaped and wandered in the wild; and as the manuscript text was first written (see p. x x and note 3) Beren was 'son of a thrall of Melko's... that laboured in the darker places in the north of Hisilome'. This conception seems reasonably clear, so far as it goes. In the typescript version it is expressly stated that there were Gnomes 'in Tinwelint's service' (p. 43): the bridge over the forest river, leading to Tinwelint's door, was hung by them. It is not now stated that all the Elves of the Great Lands fell beneath Melko; rather there are named several centres of resistance to his power, in addition to Tinwelint/ Thingol in Artanor: Turgon of Gondolin, the Sons of Feanor, and Egnor of Hisilome (Beren's father) -- one of the chiefest foes of Melko 'in all the kin of the Gnomes that still were free' (p. 44). Presumably this led to the exclusion in the typescript of the passage telling that the woodland Elves thought of the Gnomes of Dor Lomin as treacherous and faithless (see p. 43), while that concerning the distrust of those who had been Melko's slaves was retained. The passage concerning Hisilome 'where dwelt Men, and thrall-Noldoli laboured, and few free-Eldar went' (p. 10) was also retained; but Hisilome, in Beren's wish that he had never strayed out of it, becomes 'the wild free places of Hisilome' (pp. 17, 45). This leads to an altogether baffling question, that of the references to the Battle of Unnumbered Tears; and several of the passages just'cited bear on it. The story of 'The Travail of the Noldoli and the Coming of Mankind' that was to have been told by Gilfanon, but which after its opening pages most unhappily never got beyond the stage of outline projections, was to be followed by that of Beren and Tinuviel (see I. 241). After the Battle of Unnumbered Tears there is mention of the Thraldom of the Noldoli, the Mines of Melko, the Spell of Bottomless Dread, the shutting of Men in

Hisilome, and then 'Beren son of Egnor wandered out of Dor Lomin into Artanor...' (In The Silmarillion the deeds of Beren and Luthien preceded the Battle of Unnumbered Tears.) Now in the Tale of Tinuviel there is a reference, in both versions, to the 'thrall. Noldoli' who laboured in Hisilome and of Men dwelling there; and as the passage introducing Beren was first written in the manuscript his father was one of these slaves. It is said, again in both versions, that neither Tinwelint nor the most part of his people went to the battle, but that his lordship was greatly increased by fugitives from it (p.9); and to the following statement that his dwelling was hidden by the magic of Gwendeling/Melian the typescript adds the word 'thereafter' (p. 43), i.e. after the Battle of Unnumbered Tears. In the changed passage in the typescript referring to Egnor he is one of the chiefest foes of Melko 'in all the kin of the Gnomes that still were free'. All this seems to allow of only one conclusion: the events of the Tale of Tinuviel took place after the great battle; and this seems to be clinched by the express statement in the typescript: where the manuscript (p. 15) says that Melko 'sought ever to destroy the friendship and intercourse of Elves and Men', the second version adds (p. 44):'lest they forget the Battle of Unnumbered Tears and once more arise in wrath against him'. It is very odd, therefore, that Veanne should say at the beginning (in the manuscript only, p. 10 and see p. 43) that she will tell 'of things that happened in the halls of Tinwelint after the arising of the Sun indeed but long ere the unforgotten Battle of Unnumbered Tears'. (This in any case seems to imply a much longer period between the two events

than is suggested in the outlines for Gilfanon's Tale: see I.242). This is repeated later (p. 17): 'it was a thing unthought... that any Elf... should fare untended to the halls of Melko, even in those earlier days before the Battle of Tears when Melko's power had not grown great...' But it is stranger still that this second sentence is retained in the typescript (p. 45). The typescript version has thus two inescapably contradictory statements: Melko 'sought ever to destroy the friendship and intercourse of Elves and Men, lest they forget the Battle of Unnumbered Tears' (p. 44); 'Little love was there between the woodland Elves and the folk of Angband even in those days before the Battle of Unnumbered Tears' (p- 45) Such a radical contradiction within a single text is in the highest degree unusual, perhaps unique, in all the writings concerned with the First Age. But I can see no way to explain it, other than simply accepting it as a radical contradiction; nor indeed can I explain those statements in both versions that the events of the tale took place before the battle, since virtually all indications point to the contrary.* * In the Tale of Turambar the story of Beren and Tinuviel clearly and necessarily took place before the Battle of Unnumbered Tears (pp. 71 -- 2, 140).

$3. Miscellaneous Matters. (i) Morgoth. Beren addresses Melko as 'most mighty Belcha Morgoth', which are said to be his names among the Gnomes (p. 44). In the Gnomish dictionary Belcha is-given as the Gnomish form corresponding to Melko (see I.260), but Morgoth is not found in it: indeed this is the first and only appearance of the name in the Lost Tales. The element goth is given in the Gnomish dictionary with the meaning 'war, strife'; but if Morgoth meant at this period 'Black Strife' it is perhaps strange that Beren should use it in a flattering speech. A name-list made in the 193os explains Morgoth as 'formed from his Orc-name Goth "Lord or Master" with mor "dark or black" prefixed', but it seems very doubtful that this etymology is valid for the earlier period. This name-list explains Cothmog 'Captain of Balrogs' as containing the same Orc-element ('Voice of Goth (Morgoth)'); but in the name-list to the tale of The Fall Condolin (p. 216) the name Cothmog is said to mean 'Strife-andhatred' (mog- 'detest, hate' appears in the Gnomish dictionary), which supports the interpretation of Morgoth in the present tale as 'Black Strife'.* (ii) Orcs and Balrogs. Despite the reference to 'the wandering bands of the goblins and the Orcs' (p. 14, retained in the typescript version), the terms are certainly synonymous in the Tale of Turambar. The Orcs are described in the present tale (ibid.) as 'foul broodlings of Melko'. In the second version (p. 44) wolf-rider Orcs appear. Balrogs, mentioned in the tale (p. 15), have appeared in one of the outlines for Gilfanon's Tale (I. 241); but they had already played an Important part in the earliest of the Lost Tales, that of The Fall of Condolin (see pp. 212 -- 13). * Nothing is said in any text to suggest that Gothmog played such a role in relation to Morgoth as the interpretation 'Voice of Goth' implies, but nor is anything said to contradict it, and he was from the beginning an important figure in the evil realm and in especial relation to Melko (see p. 216). There is perhaps a reminiscence of 'the Voice of Morgoth' in the Mouth of Sauron', the Black Numenorean who was the Lieutenant of Barad-dur (?he Return of the King V. so). (iii) Tinuviel's 'lengthening spell'. Of the 'longest things' named in this spell (pp. 19 -- 20, 46) two, 'the sword

of Nan' and 'the neck of Gilim the giant', seem now lost beyond recall, ough they survived into the spell in the Lay of Leithian, where the sword of Nan is itself named, Clend, and Gilim is called 'the giant of

Eruman'. Gilim in the Gnomish dictionary means 'winter' (see I.260, entry Melko), which does not seem particularly appropriate: though a jotting, very difficult to read, in the little notebook used for memoranda in connection with the Last Tales (see I. 171 ) seems to say that Nan was a 'giant of summer of the South', and that he was like an elm. The Indravangs (Indrafangs in the typescript) are the 'Longbeards'; this is said in the Gnomish dictionary to be 'a special name of the Nauglath or Dwarves' (see further the Tale of the Nauglafring, p. 247). Karkaras (Carcaras in the typescript) 'Knife-fang' is named in the spell since he was originally conceived as the 'father of wolves, who guarded the gates of Angamandi in those days and long had done so' (p. 21). In The Silmarillion (p. 180) he has a different history: chosen by, Morgoth 'from among the whelps of the race of Draugluin' and reared to be the death of Huan, he was set before the gates of Angband in that very time. In The Silmarillion (ibid.) Carcharoth is rendered 'the Red Maw', and this expression is used in the text of the tale (p. 34): 'both hand and jewel Karkaras bit off and took into his red maw'. Glorund is the name of the dragon in the Tale of Turambar (Glaurung in The Silmarillion). In the tale of The Chaining of Melko there is no suggestion that Tulkas had any part in the making of the chain (there in the form Angaino): I.100. (iv) The influence of the Valar. There is frequent suggestion that the Valar in some way exercised a direct influence over the minds and hearts of the distant Elves in the Great Lands. Thus it is said (p. 15) that the Valar must have inspired Beren's ingenious speech to Melko, and while this may be no more than a 'rhetorical' flourish, it is clear that Tinuviel's dream of Beren is meant to be accepted as 'a dream of the Valar' (p. 19). Again, 'the Valar set a new hope in her heart' (p. 47); and later in Veanne's tale the Valar are seen as active 'fates', guiding the destinies of the characters -- so the Valar 'brought' Huan to find Beren and Tinuviel in Nan Dumgorthin (p. 35), and Tinuviel says to Tinwelint that 'the Valar alone saved Beren from s bitter death' (p. 37).

II. TURAMBAR AND THE FOALOKE. The Tale of Turambar, like that of Tinuviel, is a manuscript written in ink over a wholly erased original in pencil. But it seems certain that the extant form of Turambar preceded the extant form of Tinuviel. This can be deduced in more ways than one, but the order of composition is clearly exemplified in the forms of the name of the King of the Woodland Elves (Thingol). Throughout the manuscript of Turambar he was originally Tintoglin (and this appears also in the tale of The Coming of the Elves, where it was changed to Tinwelint, I. II5, 131). A note on the manuscript at the beginning of the tale says: 'Tintoglin's name must be altered throughout to Ellon or Tinthellon = Q. Ellu', but the note was struck out, and all through the tale Tintoglin was in fact changed to Tinwelint. Now in the Tale of Tinuviel the king's name was first given as Ellu (or Tinto Ellu), and once as Tinthellon (pp. 50-1); subsequently it was changed throughout to Tinwelint. It is clear that the direction to change Tintoglin to 'Ellon or Tinthellon = Q. Ellu' belongs to the time when the Tale of Tinuviel was being, or had been, rewritten, and that the extant Tale of Turambar already existed.

There is also the fact that the rewritten Tinuviel was followed, at the same time of composition, by the first form of the 'interlude' in which Gilfanon appears (see I.203), whereas at the beginning of Turambar there is a reference to Ailios (who was replaced by Gilfanon) concluding the previous tale. On the different arrangement of the tale-telling at this point that my father subsequently introduced but failed to carry through see 1.229 -- 30. According to the earlier arrangement, Ailios told his tale on the first night of the feast of Turuhalme or the Logdrawing, and Eltas followed with the Tale of Turambar on the second. There is evidence that the Tale of Turambar was in existence at any rate by the middle of 1919. Humphrey Carpenter discovered a passage, written on a scrap of proof for the Oxford English Dictionary, in an early alphabet of my father's devising; and transliterating it he found it to be from this tale, not far from the beginning. He has told me that my father was using this version of the 'Alphabet of Rumil' about June 1919 (see Biography, p. 100). When then Ailios had spoken his fill the time for the lighting of candles was at hand, and so came the first day of Turuhalme to an

end; but on the second night Ailios was not there, and being asked by Lindo one Eltas began a tale, and said: 'Now all folk gathered here know that this is the story of . Turambar and the Foaloke, and it is,' said he, 'a favourite tale among Men, and tells of very ancient days of that folk before the Battle of Tasarinan when first Men entered the dark vales of Hisilome. In these days many such stories do Men tell still, and more have they told in the past especially in those kingdoms of the North that once I knew. Maybe the deeds of other of their warriors have become mingled therein, and many matters beside that are not in the most ancient tale -- but now I will tell to you the true and lamentable tale, and I knew it long ere I trod Olore Malle in the days before the fall of Gondolin. In those days my folk dwelt in a vale of Hisilome and that land did Men name Aryador in the tongues they then used, but they were very far from the shores of Asgon and the spurs of the Iron Mountains were nigh to their dwellings and great woods of very gloomy trees. My father said to me that many of our older men venturing afar had themselves seen the evil worms of Melko and some had fallen before them, and by reason of the hatred of our people for those creatures and of the evil Vala often was the story of Turambar and the Foaloke in.their mouths -- but rather after the fashion of the Gnomes did they say Turumart and the Fuithlug. For know that before the Battle of Lamentation and the ruin of the Noldoli there dwelt a lord of Men named Urin, and hearkening to the summons of the Gnomes he and his folk marched with the Ilkorindi against Melko, but their wives and children they left behind them in the woodlands, and with them was Mavwin wife of Urin, and her son remained with her, for he was not yet war-high. Now the name of that boy was Turin and is so in all tongues, but Mavwin do the Eldar call Mavoine. Now Urin and his followers fled not from that battle as did most of the kindreds of Men, but many of them were slain fighting to the last, and Urin was made captive. Of the Noldoli who fought there all the companies were slain or captured or fled away in rout, save that of Turondo (Turgon) only, and he and his folk cut a path for themselves out of that fray and come not into this tale. Nonetheless the escape of that great company marred the complete victory that otherwise had Melko won over his adversaries, and he desired very greatly to discover whither they had fled; and this he might not do, for his spies availed nothing, and no tortures at that

time had power to force treacherous knowledge from the captive Noldoli. Knowing therefore that the Elves of Kor thought little of Men, holding them in scant fear or suspicion for their blindness and lack of skill, he would constrain Urin to take up his employ and go seek after Turondo as a spy of Melko. To this however neither threats of torture nor promises of rich reward would bring Urin to consent, for he said: "Nay, do as thou wilt, for to no evil work of thine wilt thou ever constrain me, 0 Melko, thou foe of Gods and Men." "Of a surety," said Melko in anger, "to no work of mine will I bid thee again, nor yet will I force thee thereto, but upon deeds of mine that will be little to thy liking shalt thou sit here and gaze, nor be able to move foot or hand against them." And this was the torture he devised for the affliction of Urin the Steadfast, and setting him in a lofty place of the mountains he stood beside him and cursed him and his folk with dread curses of the Valar, putting a doom of woe and a death of sorrow upon them; but to Urin he gave a measure of vision, so that much of those things that befell his wife and children he might see and be helpless to aid, for magic held him in that high place. "Behold." said Melko, "the life of Turin thy son shall be accounted a matter for tears wherever Elves or Men are gathered for the telling of tales"; but Urin said: "At least none shall pity him for this, that he had a craven for father." Now after that battle Mavwin got her in tears into the land of Hithlum or Dor Lomin where all Men must now dwell by the word of Melko, save some wild few that yet roamed without. There was Nienori born to her, but her husband Urin languished in the thraldom of Melko, and Turin being yet a small boy Mavwin knew not in her distress how to foster both him and his sister, for Urin's men had all perished in the great affray, and the strange men who dwelt nigh knew not the dignity of the Lady Mavwin, and all that land was dark and little kindly. The next short section of the text was struck through afterwards and replaced by a rider on an attached slip. The rejected passage reads: At that time the rumour [written above: memory] of the deeds of Beren Ermabwed had become noised much in Dor Lomin, wherefore it came into the heart of Mavwin, for lack of better counsel, to send Turin to the court of Tintoglin,' begging him to foster this orphan for the memory of Beren, and to teach him the wisdom of fays and of Eldar; now Egnor* was akin to Mavwin and he was the father of Beren the One-handed.

The replacement passage reads: Amended passage to fit better with the story of Tinuviel and the afterhistory of the Nauglafring: The tale tells however that Urin had been a friend of the Elves, and in this he was different from many of his folk. Now great had his friendship been with Egnor, the Elf of the greenwood, the huntsman of the Gnomes, and Beren Ermabwed son of Egnor he knew and had rendered him a service once in respect of Damrod his son; but the deeds of Beren of the One Hand in the halls of Tinwelint' were remembered still in Dor Lomin. Wherefore it came into the heart of Mavwin, for lack of other counsel, to send Turin her son to the court of Tinwelint, begging him to foster this orphan for the memory of Urin and of Beren son of Egnor.' Very bitter indeed was that sundering, and for long [?time] Turin wept and would not leave his mother, and this was the first of the many sorrows that befell him in life. Yet at length when his mother had reasoned with him he gave way and prepared him in

anguish for that journey. With him went two old men, retainers aforetime of his father Urin, and when all was ready and the farewells taken they turned their feet towards the dark hills, and the little dwelling of Mavwin was lost in the trees, and Turin blind with tears could see her no more. Then ere they passed out of earshot he cried out: "0 Mavwin my mother, soon will I come back to thee" -- but he knew not that the doom of Melko lay between them. Long and very weary and uncertain was the road over the dark hills of Hithlum into the great forests of the Land Beyond where in those days Tinwelint the hidden king had his abode; and Turin son of Urin' was the first of Men to tread that way, nor have many trodden it since. In perils were Turin and his guardians of wolves, and wandering Orcs that at that time fared even thus far from Angband as the power of Melko waxed and spread over the kingdoms of the North. Evil magics were about them, that often missing their way they wandered fruitlessly for many days, yet in the end did they win through and thanked the Valar therefor -- yet maybe it was but part of the fate that Melko wove about their feet, for in after time Turin would fain have perished as a child there in the dark woods. Howso that may be, this was the manner of their coming to

Tinwelint's halls; for in the woodlands beyond the mountains they became utterly lost, until at length having no means of sustenance they were like to die, when they were discovered by a wood-ranger, a huntsman of the secret Elves, and he was called Beleg, for he was of great stature and girth as such was among that folk. Then Beleg led them by devious paths through many dark and lonely forestlands to the banks of that shadowed stream before the cavernous doors of Tinwelint's halls. Now coming before that king they were received well for the memory of Urin the Steadfast, and when also the king heard of the bond tween Urin and Beren the One-handed' and of the plight of that lady Mavwin his heart became softened and he granted her desire, nor would he send Turin away, but rather said he: "Son of Urin, thou shalt dwell sweetly in my woodland court, nor even so as a retainer, but behold as a second child of mine shalt thou be, and all the wisdoms of Gwedheling and of myself shalt thou be taught." After a time therefore when the travellers had rested he despatched the younger of the two guardians of Turin back unto Mavwin, for such was that man's desire to die in the service of the wife of Urin, yet was an escort of Elves sent with him, and such comfort and magics for the journey as could be devised, and moreover these words did he bear from Tinwelint to Mavwin: "Behold 0 Lady Mavwin wife of Urin the Steadfast, not for love nor for fear of Melko but of the wisdom of my heart and the fate of the Valar did I not go with my folk to the Battle of Unnumbered Tears, who now am become a safety and a refuge for all who fearing evil may find the secret ways that lead to the protection of my halls. Perchance now is there no other bulwark left against the arrogance of the Vala of Iron, for men say Turgon is not slain, but who knoweth the truth of it or how long he may escape? Now therefore shall thy son Turin be fostered here as my own child until he is of age to succour thee -- then, an he will, he may depart." More too he bid the Lady Mavwin, might she o'ercome the journey, fare back also to his halls, and dwell there in peace; but this when she heard she did not do, both for the tenderness of her

little child Nienori, and for that rather would she dwell poor among Men than live sweetly as an almsguest even among the woodland Elves. It may be too that she clung to that dwelling that Urin had set her in ere he went to the great war, hoping still faintly for his return, for none of the messengers that had borne the lamentable tidings from that field might say that he was dead, reporting only that none knew where he might be -- yet in truth

those messengers were few and half-distraught, and now the years were slowly passing since the last blow fell on that most grievous day. Indeed in after days she yearned to look again upon Turin, and maybe in the end, when Nienori had grown, had cast aside her pride and fared over the hills, had not these become impassable for the might and great magic of Melko, who hemmed all Men in Hithlum and slew such as dared beyond its walls. Thus came to pass the dwelling of Turin in the halls of Tinwelint; and with him was suffered to dwell Gumlin the aged who had fared with him out of Hithlum, and had no heart or strength for the returning. Very much joy had he in that sojourn, yet did the sorrow of his sundering from Mavwin fall never quite away from him; great waxed his strength of body and the stoutness of his feats got him praise wheresoever Tinwelint was held as lord, yet he was a silent boy and often gloomy, and he got not love easily and fortune did not follow him, for few things that he desired greatly came to him and many things at which he laboured went awry. For nothing however did he grieve so much as the ceasing of all messengers between Mavwin and himself, when after a few years as has been told the hills became untraversable and the ways were shut. Now Turin was seven years old when he fared to the woodland Elves, and seven years he dwelt there while tidings came ever and anon to him from his mother, so that he heard how his sister Nienori grew to a slender maid and very fair, and how things grew better in Hithlum and his mother more in peace; and then all words ceased, and the years passed. To ease his sorrow and the rage of his heart, that remembered always how Urin and his folk had gone down in battle against Melko, Turin was for ever ranging with the most warlike of the folk of Tinwelint far abroad, and long ere he was grown to first manhood he slew and took hurts in frays with the Orcs that prowled unceasingly upon the confines of the realm and were a menace to the Elves. Indeed but for his prowess much hurt had that folk sustained, and he held the wrath of Melko from them for many years, and after his days they were harassed sorely, and in the end must have been cast into thraldom had not such great and dread events befallen that Melko forgot them. Now about the courts of Tinwelint there dwelt an Elf called Orgof, and he, as were the most of that king's folk, was an Ilkorin, yet he had Gnome-blood also. Of his mother's side he was nearly akin to the king himself, and was in some favour being a good

hunter and an Elf of prowess, yet was he somewhat loose with his tongue and overweening by reason of his favour with the king; yet of nothing was he so fain as of fine raiment and of jewels and of gold and silver ornament, and was ever himself clad most bravely. Now Turin lying continually in the woods and travailing in far and lonely places grew to be uncouth of raiment and wild of locks, and Orgof made jest of him whensoever the twain sat at the king's board; but Turin said never a word to his foolish jesting, and indeed at no time did he give much heed to words that were spoken

to him, and the eyes beneath his shaggy brows oftentimes looked as to a great distance -- so that he seemed to see far things and to listen to sounds of the woodland that others heard not. On a time Turin sate at meat with the king, and it was that day twelve years since he had gazed through his tears upon Mavwin standing before the doors and weeping as he made his way among the trees, until their stems had taken her from his sight, and he was moody, speaking curt answers to those that sat nigh him, and most of all to Orgof. But this fool would not give him peace, making a laugh of his rough clothes and tangled hair, for Turin had then come new from a long abiding in the woods, and at length he drew forth daintily a comb of gold that he had and offered it to Turin; and having drunk well, when Turin deigned not to notice him he said: "Nay, an thou knowst not how to use a comb, hie thee back to thy mother, for she perchance will teach thee -- unless in sooth the women of Hithlum be as ugly as their sons and as little kempt." Then a fierce anger born of his sore heart and these words concerning the lady Mavwin blazed suddenly in Turin's breast, so that he seized a heavy drinking-vessel of gold that lay by his right hand and unmindful of his strength he cast it with great force in Orgof's teeth, saying: "Stop thy mouth therewith', fool, and prate no more." But Orgof's face was broken and he fell back with great weight, striking his head upon the stone of the floor and dragging upon him the table and all its vessels, and he spake nor prated again, for he was dead. Then all men rose in silence, but Turin, gazing aghast upon the body of Orgof and the spilled wine upon his hand, turned on his heel and strode into the night; and some that were akin to Orgof drew their weapons half from their sheaths, yet none struck, for the king gave no sign but stared stonily upon the body of Orgof, and very great amaze was in his face. But Turin laved his hands in the stream without the doors and burst there into tears, saying:

"Lo! Is there a curse upon me, for all I do is ill, and now is it so turned that I must flee the house of my fosterfather an outlaw guilty of blood -- nor look upon the faces of any I love again." And in his heart he dared not return to Hithlum lest his mother be bitterly grieved at his disgrace, or perchance he might draw the wrath of the Elves behind him to his folk; wherefore he got himself far away, and when men came to seek him he might not be found. Yet they did not seek his harm, although he knew it not, for Tinwelint despite his grief and the ill deed pardoned him, and the most of his folk were with him in that, for Turin had long held his peace or returned courtesy to the folly of Orgof, though stung often enough thereby, for that Elf being not a little jealous was used to barb his words; and now therefore the near kinsmen of Orgof were constrained by fear of Tinwelint and by many gifts to accept the king's doom. Yet Turin in unhappiness, believing the hand of all against him and the heart of the king become that of a foe, crept to the uttermost bounds of that woodland realm. There he hunted for his subsistence, being a good shot with the bow, yet he rivalled not the Elves at that, for rather at the wielding of the sword was he mightier than they. To him gathered a few wild spirits, and amongst them was Beleg the huntsman, who had rescued Gumlin and Turin in the woods aforetime. Now in many adventures were those twain together, Beleg the Elf and Turin the Man, which are not now told or remembered but which once were sung in many a place. With beast and with goblin they warred and fared at times

into far places unknown to the Elves, and the fame of the hidden hunters of the marches began to be heard among Orcs and Elves, so that perchance Tinwelint would soon have become aware of the place of Turin's abiding, had not upon a time all that band of Turin's fallen into desperate encounter with a host of Orcs who outnumbered them three times. All were there slain save Turin and Beleg, and Beleg escaped with wounds, but Turin was overborne and bound, for such was the will of Melko that he be brought to him alive; for behold, dwelling in the halls of Linwe' about which had that fay Gwedheling the queen woven much magic and mystery and such power of spells as can come only from Valinor, whence indeed long time agone she once had brought them, Turin had been lost out of his sight, and he feared lest he cheat the doom that was devised for him. Therefore now he purposed to entreat him grievously before the eyes of Urin; but Urin had called upon the Valar of the West, being taught much concerning them by the Eldar of Kor -- the Gnomes he had encountered -- and his words came, who shall say how, to Manwe Sulimo upon the heights of Taniquetil, the Mountain of the World. Nonetheless was Turin dragged now many an evil league in sore distress, a captive of the pitiless Orcs, and they made slow journeying, for they followed ever the line of dark hills toward those regions where they rise high and gloomy and their heads are shrouded in black vapours. There are they called Angorodin or the Iron Mountains, for beneath the roots of their northernmost fastnesses lies Angband, the Hells of Iron, most grievous of all abodes -- and thither were they now making laden with booty and with evil deeds. Know then that in those days still was Hithlum and the Lands Beyond full of the wild Elves and of Noldoli yet free, fugitives of the old battle; and some wandered ever wearily, and others had secret and hidden abodes in caves or woodland fastnesses, but Melko sought untiringly after them and most pitilessly did he entreat them of all his thralls did he capture them. Orcs and dragons and evil fays were loosed against them and their lives were full of sorrow and travail, so that those who found not in the end the realms of Tinwelint nor the secret stronghold of the king of the city of stone* perished or were enslaved. Noldoli too there were who were under the evil enchantments of Melko and wandered as in a dream of fear, doing his ill bidding, for the spell of bottomless dread was on them and they felt the eyes of Melko burn them from afar. Yet often did these sad Elves both thrall and free hear the voice of Ulmo in the streams or by the sea-marge where the waters of Sirion mingled with the waves; for Ulmo, of all the Valar, still thought of them most tenderly and designed with their slender aid to bring Melko's evil to ruin., Then remembering the blessedness of Valinor would they at times cast away their fear, doing good deeds and aiding both Elves and Men against the Lord of Iron. Now was it that it came into the heart of Beleg the hunter of the Elves to seek after Turin so soon as his own hurts were healed. This being done in no great number of days, for he had a skill of healing, he made all speed after the band of Orcs, and he had need of all his craft as tracker to follow that trail, for a band of the goblins of Melko go cunningly and very light. Soon was he far beyond any regions known to him, yet for love of Turin he pressed on, and in this did he show courage greater than the most of that (* Gondolin.)

woodland folk, and indeed there are none who may now measure

the depth of fear and anguish that Melko set in the hearts of Men and of Elves in those sad days. Thus did it fall out that Beleg became lost and benighted in a dark and perilous region so thick with pines of giant growth that none but the goblins might find a track, having eyes that pierced the deepest gloom, yet were many even of these lost long time in those regions; and they were called by the Noldoli Taurfuin, the Forest of Night. Now giving himself up for lost Beleg lay with his back to a mighty tree and listened to the wind in the gaunt tops of the forest many fathoms above him, and the moaning of the night airs and the creaking of the branches was full of sorrow and foreboding, and his heart became utterly weary. On a sudden he noticed a little light afar among the trees steady and pale as it were of a glowworm very bright, yet thinking it might scarce be glowworm in such a place he crept towards it. Now the Noldoli that laboured in the earth and aforetime had skill of crafts in metals and gems in Valinor were the most valued of the thralls of Melko, and he suffered them not to stray far away, and so it was that Beleg knew not that these Elves had little lanterns of strange fashion, and they were of silver and of crystal and a flame of a pale blue burnt forever within, and this was a secret and the jewel-makers among them alone knew it nor would they reveal it even to Melko, albeit many jewels and many magic lights they were constrained to make for him. Aided by these lamps the Noldoli fared much at night, and seldom lost a path had they but once trodden it before. So it was that drawing near Beleg beheld one of the hill-gnomes stretched upon the needles beneath a great pine asleep, and his blue lantern stood glimmering nigh his head. Then Beleg awakened him, and that Elf started up in great fear and anguish, and Beleg learned that he was a fugitive from the mines of Melko and named himself Flinding bo-Dhuilin of an ancient house of the Gnomes. Now falling into talk Flinding was overjoyed to have speech with a free Noldo, and told many tales of his flight from the uttermost fastness of the mines of Melko; and at length said he: "When I thought myself all but free, lo, I strayed at night unwarily into the midmost of an Orc-camp, and they were asleep and much spoil and weighted packs they had, and many captive Elves I thought I descried: and one there was that lay nigh to a trunk to which he was bound most grievously, and he moaned and cried out bitterly against Melko, calling on the names of Urin and Mavwin; and though at that time

being a craven from long captivity I fled heedlessly, now do I marvel much, for who of the thralls of Angband has not known of Urin the Steadfast who alone of Men defies Melko chained in torment upon a bitter peak?" Then was Beleg in great eagerness and sprang to his feet shouting: "'Tis Turin, fosterson of Tinwelint, even he whom I seek, who was the son of Urin long ago. -- Nay, lead me to this camp, 0 son of Duilin, and soon shall he be free," but Flinding was much afeared, saying: "Softer words, my Beleg, for the Orcs have ears of cats, and though a day's march lies between me and that encampment who knows whether they be not followed after." Nonetheless hearing the story of Turin from Beleg, despite his dread he consented to lead Beleg to that place, and long ere the sun rose on the day or its fainting beams crept into that dark forest they were upon the road, guided by the dancing light of Flinding's swinging lamp. Now it happened that in their journeying their paths crossed that of the Orcs who now were renewing their march, but in a direction other than that they had for long pursued, for now fearing the escape of their prisoner they made for a

place where they knew the trees were thinner and a track ran for many a league easy to pursue; wherefore that evening, or ever they came to the spot that Flinding sought, they heard a shouting and a rough singing that was afar in the woods but drawing near; nor did they hide too soon ere the whole of that Orc-band passed nigh to them, and some of the captains were mounted upon small horses, and to one of these was Turin tied by the wrists so that he must trot or be dragged cruelly. Then did Beleg and Flinding follow timorously after as dusk fell on the forest, and when that band encamped they lurked near until all was quiet save the moaning of the captives. Now Flinding covered his lamp with a pelt and they crept near, and behold the goblins slept, for it was not their wont to keep fire or watch in their bivouacs, and for guard they trusted to certain fierce wolves that went always with their bands as dogs with Men, but slept not when they camped, and their eyes shone like points of red light among the trees. Now was Flinding in sore dread, but Beleg bid him follow, and the two crept between the wolves at a point where there was a great gap between them, and as the luck of the Valar had it Turin was lying nigh, apart from the others, and Beleg came unseen to his side and would cut his bonds, when he found his knife had dropped from his side in his creeping and his sword he had left behind without the camp. Therefore now, for they dare not risk the creeping forth and back again, do Beleg and Flinding both stout men essay to carry him sleeping soundly in utter weariness stealthily from the camp, and this they did, and it has ever been thought a great feat, and few have done the like in passing the wolf guards of the goblins and despoiling their camps. Now in the woods at no great distance from the camp they laid him down, for they might not bear him further, seeing that he was a Man and of greater stature than they," but Beleg fetched his sword and would cut his bonds forthwith. The bonds about his wrists he severed first and was cutting those upon the ankles when blundering in the dark he pricked Turin's foot deeply, and Turin awoke in fear. Now seeing a form bend over him in the gloom sword in hand and feeling the smart of his foot he thought it was one of the Orcs come to slay him or to torment him -- and this they did often, cutting him with knives or hurting him with spears; but now Turin feeling his hand free leapt up and flung all his weight suddenly upon Beleg, who fell and was half-crushed, lying speechless on the ground; but Turin at the same time seized the sword and struck it through Beleg's throat or ever Flinding might know what had betid. Then Turin leapt back and shouting out curses upon the goblins bid them come and slay him or taste of his sword, for he fancied himself in the midst of their camp, and thought not of flight but only of selling his life dear. Now would he have made at Flinding, but that Gnome sprang back, dropping his lamp, so that its cover slipped and the light of it shone forth, and he called out in the tongue of the Gnomes that Turin should hold-his hand and slay not his friends -- then did Turin hearing his speech pause, and as he stood, by the light of the lamp he saw the white face of Beleg lying nigh his feet with pierced throat, and he stood as one stricken to stone, and such was the look upon his face that Flinding dared not speak for a long while. Indeed little mind had he for words, for by that light had he also seen the fate of Beleg and was very bitter in heart. At length however it seemed to Flinding that the Orcs were astir, and so it was, for the shouts of Turin had come to them; wherefore he said to Turin: "The Orcs are upon us, let us flee," but Turin answered not, and Flinding shook him, bidding him gather his wits or perish, and then Turin did as he was bid but yet as one dazed, and stooping he raised Beleg and kissed his

mouth. Then did Flinding guide Turin as well as he might swiftly from those regions, and Turin wandered with him following as he led, and at length for a while they had shaken off pursuit and could

breathe again. Now then did Flinding have space to tell Turin all he knew and of his meeting with Beleg, and the floods of Turin's tears were loosed, and he wept bitterly, for Beleg had been his comrade often in many deeds; and this was the third anguish that befell Turin, nor did he lose the mark of that sorrow utterly in all his life; and long he wandered with Flinding caring little whither he went, and but for that Gnome soon would he have been recaptured or lost, for he thought only of the stark face of Beleg the huntsman, lying in the dark forest slain by his hand even as he cut the bonds of thraldom from him. In that time was Turin's hair touched with grey, despite his few years. Long time however did Turin and the Noldo journey together, and by reason of the magic of that lamp fared by night and hid by day and were lost in the hills, and the Orcs found them not. Now in the mountains there was a place of caves above a stream, and that stream ran down to feed the river Sirion, but grass grew before the doors of the caves, and these were cunningly concealed by trees and such magics as those scattered bands that dwelt therein remembered still. Indeed at this time this place had grown to be a strong dwelling of the folk and many a fugitive swelled them, and there the ancient arts and works of the Noldoli came once more to life albeit in a rude and rugged fashion. There was smithying in secret and forging of good weapons, and even fashioning of some fair things beside, and the women spun once more and wove, and at times was gold quarried privily in places nigh, where it was found, so that deep in those caverns might vessels of beauty be seen in the flame of secret lights, and old songs were faintly sung. Yet did the dwellers in the caves flee always before the Orcs and never give battle unless compelled by mischance or were they able to so entrap them that all might be slain and none escape alive; and this they did of policy that no tidings reach Melko of their dwelling nor might he suspect any numerous gathering of folk in those parts. This place however was known to the Noldo Flindirig who fared with Turin; indeed he was once of that people long since, before the Orcs captured him and he was held in thraldom. Thither did he now wend being sure that the pursuit came no longer nigh them, yet went he nonetheless by devious ways, so that it was long ere they drew nigh.to that region, and the spies and watchers of the Rodothlim (for so were that folk named) gave warning of their approach, and the folk withdrew before them, such as were abroad from their dwelling. Then they closed their doors and hoped that the strangers might not discover their caves, for they feared and mistrusted all unknown folk of whatever race, so evil were the lessons of that dreadful time. Now then Flinding and Turin dared even to the caves' mouths, and perceiving that these twain knew now the paths thereto the Rodothlim sallied and made them prisoners and drew them within their rocky halls, and they were led before the chief, Orodreth. Now the free Noldoli at that time feared much those of their kin who had tasted thraldom, for compelled by fear and torture and spells much treachery had they wrought; even thus did the evil deeds of the Gnomes at Copas Alqalunten find vengeance,' setting

Gnome against Gnome, and the Noldoli cursed the day that ever they first hearkened to the deceit of Melko, rueing utterly their departure from the blessed realm of Valinor. Nonetheless when Orodreth heard the tale of Flinding and knew it to be true he welcomed him with joy back among the folk, yet was that Gnome so changed by the anguish of his slavery that few knew him again; but for Flinding's sake Orodreth hearkened to the tale of Turin, and Turin told of his travails and named Urin as his sire, nor had the Gnomes yet forgot that name. Then was the heart of Orodreth made kind and he bade them dwell among the Rodothlim and be faithful to him. So came the sojourn of Turin among the people of the caves, and he dwelt with Flinding bo-Dhuilin and laboured much for the good of the folk, and slew many a wandering Orc, and did doughty deeds in their defence. In return much did he learn of new wisdom from them, for memories of Valinor burnt yet deep in their wild hearts, and greater still was their wisdom than that of such Eldar as had seen never the blest faces of the Gods. Among that people was a very fair maiden and she was named Failivrin, and her father was Galweg; and this Gnome had a liking for Turin and aided him much, and Turin was often with him in ventures and good deeds. Now many a tale of these did Galweg make beside his hearth and Turin was often at his board, and the heart of Failivrin became moved at the sight of him, and wondered often at his gloom and sadness, pondering what sorrow lay locked in his breast, for Turin went not gaily being weighted with the death of,Beleg that he felt upon his head, and he suffered not his heart to be moved, although he was glad of her sweetness; but he deemed himself an outlawed man and one burdened with a heavy

! doom of ill. Therefore did Failivrin become sorrowful and wept in secret, and she grew so pale that folk marvelled at the whiteness and delicacy of her face and her bright eyes that shone therein. Now came a time when the Orc-bands and the evil things of Melko drew ever nigher to the dwelling of this folk, and despite the good spells that ran in the stream beneath it seemed like that their abode would remain no longer hidden. It is said however that during all this time the dwelling of Turin in the caves and his deeds among the Rodothlim were veiled from Melko's eyes, and that he infested not the Rodothlim for Turin's sake nor out of design, but rather it was the ever increasing numbers of these creatures and their growing power and fierceness that brought them so far afield. Nonetheless the blindness and ill-fortune that he wove of old clung yet to Turin, as may be seen. Each day grew the brows of the chiefs of the Rodothlim more dark, and dreams came to them" bidding them arise and depart swiftly and secretly, seeking, if it might be, after Turgon, for with him might yet salvation be found for the Gnomes. Whispers too there were in the stream at eve, and those among them skilled to hear such voices added their foreboding at the councils of the folk. Now at these councils had Turin won him a place by dint of many valorous deeds, and he gainsaid their fears, trusting in his strength, for he lusted ever for war with the creatures of Melko, and he upbraided the men of the folk, saying: "Lo! Ye have weapons of great excellence of workmanship, and yet are the most of them clean of your foes' blood. Remember ye the Battle of Uncounted Tears and forget not your folk that there fell, nor seek ever to flee, but fight and stand."

Now despite the wisdom of their wisest such bitter words confused their counsels and delayed them, and there were no few of the stout-hearted that found hope in them, being sad at the thought of abandoning those places where they had begun to make an abiding place of peace and goodliness; but Turin begged Orodreth for a sword, and he had not wielded a sword since the slaying of Beleg, but rather had he been contented with a mighty club. Now then Orodreth let fashion for him a great sword, and it was made by magic to be utterly black save at its edges, and those were shining bright and sharp as but Gnome-steel may be. Heavy it was, and was sheathed in black, and it hung from a sable belt, and Turin named it Gurtholfin the Wand of Death; and often that blade leapt in his hand of its own lust, and it is said that at times it spake dark words to him. Therewith did he now range the hills,

and slew unceasingly, so that Blacksword of the Rodothlim became a name of terror to the Orcs, and for a great season all evil was fended from the caverns of the Gnomes. Hence comes that name of Turin's among the Gnomes, calling him Mormagli or Mormakil according to their speech, for these names signify black sword. The greater however did Turin's valour become so grew the love of Failivrin more deep, and did men murmur against him in his absence she spake for him, and sought ever to minister to him, and her he treated ever courteously and happily, saying he had found a fair sister in the Gnome-lands. By Turin's deeds however was the ancient counsel of the Rodothlim set aside and their abode made known far and wide, nor was Melko ignorant of it, yet many of the Noldoli now fled to them and their strength waxed and Turin was held in great honour among them. Then were days of great happiness and for a while men lived openly again and might fare far abroad from their homes in safety, and many boasted of the salvation of the Noldoli, while Melko gathered in secret his great hordes. These did he loose suddenly upon them at unawares, and they gathered their warriors in great haste and went against him, but behold, an army of Orcs descended upon them, and wolves, and Orcs mounted upon wolves; and a great worm was with them whose scales were polished bronze and whose breath was a mingled fire and smoke, and his name was Glorund." All the men of the Rodothlim fell or were taken in that battle, for the foe was numberless, and that was the most bitter affray since the evil field of Ninin-Udathriol.* Orodreth was there sorely hurt and Turin bore him out of the fight ere yet all was ended, and with the aid of Flinding whose wounds were not great" he got him to the caves. There died Orodreth, reproaching Turin that he had ever withstood his wise counsels, and Turin's heart was bitter at the ruin of the folk that was set to his account." Then leaving Lord Orodreth dead Turin went to the places of Galweg's abiding, and there was Failivrin weeping bitterly at the tidings of her father's death, but Turin sought to comfort her, and for the pain of. her heart and the sorrow of her father's death and of the ruin of her folk she swooned upon his breast and cast her arms about (* At the bottom of the manuscript page is written: 'Nieriltasinwa the battle of unnumbered tears Glorund laurundo or Undolaure' Later Glorund and Laurundo were emended to Glorunt and Laurunto.)

him. So deep was the ruth of Turin's heart that in that hour he deemed he loved her very dearly; yet were now he and Flinding

alone save for a few aged carles and dying men, and the Orcs having despoiled the field of dead were nigh upon them. Thus stood Turin before the doors with Gurtholfin in hand, and Flinding was beside him; and the Orcs fell on that place and ransacked it utterly, dragging out all the folk that lurked therein and all their goods, whatsoever of great or little worth might there lie hid. But Turin denied the entrance of Galweg's dwelling to them, and they fell thick about him, until a company of their archers standing at a distance shot a cloud of arrows at him. Now he wore chainmail such as all the warriors of the Gnomes have ever loved and still do wear, yet it turned not all those ill shafts, and already was he sore hurt when Flinding fell pierced suddenly through the eye; and soon too had he met his death -- and his weird had been the happier thereby -- had not that great drake coming now upon the sack bidden them cease their shooting; but with the power of his breath he drove Turin from those doors and with the magic of his eyes he bound him hand and foot. Now those drakes and worms are the evillest creatures that Melko has made, and the most uncouth, yet of all are they the most powerful, save it be the Balrogs only. A great cunning and wisdom have they, so that it has been long said amongst Men that whosoever might taste the heart of a dragon would know all tongues of Gods or Men, of birds or beasts, and his ears would catch whispers of the Valar or of Melko such as never had he heard before. Few have there been that ever achieved a deed of such prowess as the slaying of a drake, nor might any even of such doughty ones taste their blood and live, for it is as a poison of fires that slays all save the most godlike in strength. Howso that may be, even as their lord these foul beasts love lies and lust after gold and precious things with a great fierceness of desire, albeit they may not use nor enjoy them. Thus was it that this loke (for so do the Eldar name the worms of Melko) suffered the Orcs to slay whom they would and to gather whom they listed into a very great and very sorrowful throng of women, maids, and little children, but all the mighty treasure that they had brought from the rocky halls and heaped glistering in the sun before the doors he coveted for himself and forbade them set finger on it, and they durst not withstand him, nor could they have done so an they would. In that sad band stood Failivrin in horror, and she stretched out her arms towards Turin, but Turin was held by the spell of the drake, for that beast had a foul magic in his glance, as have many others of his kind, and he turned the sinews of Turin as it were to stone, for his eye held Turin's eye so that his will died, and he could not stir of his own purpose, yet might he see and hear. Then did Glorund taunt Turin nigh to madness, saying that lo! he had cast away his sword nor had the heart to strike a blow for his friends -- now Turin's sword lay at his feet whither it had slipped from his unnerved grasp. Great was the agony of Turin's heart thereat, and the Orcs laughed at him, and of the captives some cried bitterly against him. Even now did the Orcs begin to drive away that host of thralls, and his heart broke at the sight, yet he moved not; and the pale face of Failivrin faded afar, and her voice was borne to him crying: "0 Turin Mormakil, where is thy heart; 0 my beloved, wherefore dost thou forsake me?" So great then became Turin's anguish that even the spell of that worm might not restrain it, and crying aloud he reached for the sword at his feet and would wound the drake with it, but the serpent breathed a foul and heated breath upon him, so that he swooned and thought that it was death. A long time thereafter, and the tale telleth not how long,

he came to himself, and he was lying gazing at the sun before the doors, and his head rested against a heap of gold even as the ransackers had left it. Then said the drake, who was hard by: "Wonderest thou not wherefore I have withheld death from thee, O Turin Mormakil, who wast once named brave?" Then Turin remembered all his griefs and the evil that had fallen upon him, and he said: "Taunt me not, foul worm, for thou knowest I would die; and for that alone, methinks, thou slayest me not." But the drake answered saying: "Know then this, 0 Turin son of Urin, that a fate of evil is woven about thee, and thou mayst not untangle thy footsteps from it whitherever thou goest. Yea indeed, I would not have thee slain, for thus wouldst thou escape very bitter sorrows and a weird of anguish." Then Turin leaping suddenly to his feet and avoiding that beast's baleful eye raised aloft his sword and cried: "Nay, from this hour shall none name me Turin if I live. Behold, I will name me a new name and it shall be Turambar!" Now this meaneth Conqueror of Fate, and the form of the name in the Gnome-speech is Turumart. Then uttering these words he made a second time at the drake, thinking indeed to force the drake to slay him and to conquer his fate by death, but the dragon laughed, saying: "Thou fool! An I would, I had slain thee long since and could do so here and now, and if I will not thou canst not do battle with me waking, for my eye can cast once more the binding spell upon thee that thou stand as stone. Nay, get thee gone, 0 Turambar Conqueror of Fate! First thou must meet thy doom an thou wouldst o'ercome it." But Turambar was filled with shame and anger, and perchance he had slain himself, so great was his madness, although thus might he not hope that ever his spirit would be freed from the dark glooms of Mandos or stray into the pleasant paths of Valinor;" but amidst his misery he bethought him of Failivrin's pallid face and he bowed his head, for the thought came into his heart to seek back through all the woods after her sad footsteps even be it to Angamandi and the Hills of Iron. Maybe in that desperate venture he had found a kindly and swift death or perchance an ill one, and maybe he had rescued Failivrin and found happiness, yet not thus was he fated to earn the name he had taken anew, and the drake reading his mind suffered him not thus lightly to escape his tide of ill. "Hearken to me, 0 son of Urin," said he; "ever wast thou a coward at heart, vaunting thyself falsely before men. Perchance thou thinkest it a gallant deed to go follow after a maiden of strange kin, recking little of thine own that suffer now terrible things? Behold, Mavwin who loves thee long has eagerly awaited thy return, knowing that thou hast found manhood a while ago, and she looks for thy succour in vain, for little she knows that her son is an outlaw stained with the blood of his comrades, a defiler of his lord's table. Ill do men entreat her, and behold the Orcs infest now those parts of Hithlum, and she is in fear and peril and her daughter Nienori thy sister with her." Then was Turambar aflame with sorrow and with shame for the lies of that worm were barbed with truth, and for the spell of his eyes he believed all that was said. Therefore his old desire to see once more Mavwin his mother and to look upon Nienori whom he had never seen since his first days" grew hot within him, and with a heart torn with sorrow for the fate of Failivrin he turned his feet towards the hills seeking Dor Lomin, and his sword was sheathed. And truly is it said: "Forsake not for anything thy friends -- nor believe those who counsel thee to do so" -- for of his abandoning of Failivrin in danger that he himself could see came the very direst evil upon him and all he loved; and indeed his heart was confounded and wavered, and he left those places in uttermost shame

and weariness. But the dragon gloated upon the hoard and lay coiled upon it, and the fame of that great treasure of golden vessels and of unwrought gold that lay by the caves above the stream fared far and wide about; yet the great worm slept before it, and evil thoughts he had as he pondered the planting of his cunning lies and the sprouting thereof and their growth and fruit, and fumes of smoke went up from his nostrils as he slept. On a time therefore long afterward came Turambar with great travail into Hisilome, and found at length the place of the abode of his mother, even the one whence he had been sundered as a child, but behold, it was roofless and the tilth about it ran wild. Then his heart smote him, but he learned of some that dwelt nigh that lighting on better days the Lady Mavwin had departed some years agone to places not far distant where was a great and prosperous dwelling of men, for that region of Hisilome was fertile and men tilled the land somewhat and many had flocks and herds, though for the most part in the dark days after the great battle men feared to dwell in settled places and ranged the woods and hunted or fished, and so it was with those kindreds about the waters of Asgon whence after arose Tuor son of Peleg. Hearing these words however Turambar was amazed, and questioned them concerning the wandering into those regions of Orcs and other fierce folk of Melko, but they shook their heads, and said that never had such creatures come hither deep into the land of Hisilome." "If thou wishest for Orcs then go to the hills that encompass our land about," said they, "and thou wilt not search long. Scarce may the wariest fare in and out so constant is their watch, and they infest the rocky gates of the land that the Children of Men be penned for ever in the Land of Shadows; but men say 'tis the will of Melko that they trouble us not here -- and yet it seems to us that thou hast come from afar, and at this we marvel, for long is it since one from other lands might tread this way." Then Turambar was in perplexity at this and he doubted the deceit of the dragon's words, yet he went now in hope to the dwelling of men and the house of his mother, and coming upon homesteads of men he was easily directed thither. Now men looked strangely at his questioning, and indeed they had reason, yet were such as he spoke to in great awe and wonder at him and shrank back from speech with him, for his garb was of the wild woods and his hair was long and his face haggard and drawn as with unquenchable sorrows, and therein burnt fiercely his dark eyes beneath dark brows. A collar of fine gold he wore and his mighty sword was at his side, and men marvelled much at him;

and did any dare to question him he named himself Turambar son of the weary forest,* and that seemed but the more strange to them. Now came he to the dwelling of Mavwin, and behold it was a fair house, but none dwelt there, and grass was high in the gardens, and there were no kine in the byres nor horses in the sheds, and the pastures about were silent and empty. Only the swallows had dwelling beneath the timbers of the eaves and these made a noise and a bustle as if departure for autumn was at hand, and Turambar sat before the carven doors and wept. And one who was passing on to other dwellings, for a track passed nigh to that homestead, espied him, and coming asked him his grief, and Turambar said that it was bitter for a son sundered for many years from his home to give up all that was dear and dare the dangers of the infested hills to find only the halls of his kindred empty when he returned at last.

"Nay, then this is a very trick of Melko's," said the other, "for of a truth here dwelt the Lady Mavwin wife of Urin, and yet is she gone two years past very secretly and suddenly, and men say that she seeks her son who is lost, and that her daughter Nienori goes with her, but I know not the story. This however I know, and many about here do likewise, and cry shame thereon, for know that the guardianship of all her goods and land she gave to Brodda, a man whom she trusted, and he is lord of these regions by men's consent and has to wife a kinswoman of hers. But now she is long away he has mingled her herds and flocks, small as they were, with his mighty ones, branding them with his own marks, yet the dwelling and stead of Mavwin he suffereth to fall to ruin, and men think ill of it but move not, for the power of Brodda has grown to be great." Then Turambar begged him to set his feet upon the paths to Brodda's halls, and the man did as he desired, so that Turambar striding thither came upon them just as night fell and men sat to meat in that house. Great was the company that night and the light of many torches fell upon them, but the Lady Airin was not there, for men drank overmuch at Brodda's feasts and their songs were fierce and quarrels blazed about the hall, and those things she loved not. Now Turambar smote upon the gates and his heart was black and a great wrath was in him, for the words of the stranger before his mother's doors were bitter to him. A note on the manuscript referring to this name reads: 'Turumart-go-Dhraethodauros [emended to bo-Dhrauthodavros] or Turambar Rusitaurion.')

Then did some open to his knocking and Turambar' strode into that hall, and Brodda bade him be seated and ordered wine and meats to be set before him, but Turambar would neither eat nor drink, so that men looking askance upon his sullenness asked him who he might be. Then Turambar stepping out into the midst of them before the high place where Brodda sat said: "Behold, '1 am Turambar son of the forest", and men laughed thereat, but Turambar's eyes were full of wrath. Then said Brodda in doubt: "What wilt thou of me, 0 son of the wild forest?" But Turambar said: "Lord Brodda, I am come to repay thy stewardship of others' goods," and silence fell in that place; but Brodda laughed, saying again: "But who art thou?" And thereupon Turambar leapt upon the high place and ere Brodda might foresee the act he drew Gurtholfin and seizing Brodda by the locks all but smote his head from off his body, crying aloud: "So dieth the rich man who addeth the widow's little to his much. Lo, men die not all in the wild woods, and am I not in truth the son of Urin, who having sought back unto his folk findeth an empty hall despoiled." Then was there a great uproar in that hall, and indeed though he was burdened overmuch with his many griefs and wellnigh distraught, yet was this deed of Turambar violent and unlawful. Some were there nonetheless that would not unsheathe their weapons, saying that Brodda was a thief and died as one, but many there were that leapt with swords against Turambar and he was hard put to it, and one man he slew, and it was Orlin. Then came Airin of the long hair in great fear into the halls and at her voice men stayed their hands; but great was her horror when she saw the deeds that were done, and Turambar turned his face away and might not look upon her, for his wrath was grown cold and he was sick and weary. But she hearing the tale said: "Nay, grieve not for me, son of Urin, but for thyself; for my lord was a hard lord and cruel and unjust, and men might say somewhat in thy defence, yet behold thou hast slain him now at his board being his guest, and

Orlin thou hast slain who is of thy mother's kin; and what shall be thy doom?" At those words some were silent and many shouted "death", but Airin said that it was not wholly in accord with the laws of that place, "for," said she, "Brodda was slain wrongfully, yet just was the wrath of the slayer, and Orlin too did he slay in defence, though it were in the hall of a feast. Yet now I fear that this man must get him swiftly from among us nor ever set foot upon these lands again, else shall any man slay him; but those lands and goods that were Urin's shall Brodda's kin hold, save only

do Mavwin and Nienori return ever from their wandering, yet even so may Turin son of Urin inherit nor part nor parcel of them ever." Now this doom seemed just to all save Turambar, and they marvelled at the equity of Airin whose lord lay slain, and they guessed not at the horror of her life aforetime with that man; but Turambar cast his sword upon the floor and bade them slay him, yet they would not for the words of Airin whom they loved, and Airin suffered it not for the love of Mavwin, hoping yet to join those twain mother and son in happiness, and her doom she had made to satisfy men's anger and save Turin from death. "Nay," said she, "three days do I give thee to get thee out of the land, wherefore go!" and Turambar lifting his sword wiped it, saying: "Would I were clean of his blood," and he went forth into the night. In the folly of his heart now did he deem himself cut off in truth for ever from Mavwin his mother, thinking that never again would any he loved be fain to look upon him. Then did he thirst for news of his mother and sister and of none might he ask, but wandered back over the hills knowing only that they sought him still perchance in the forests of the Lands Beyond, and no more did he know for a long while. Of his wanderings thereafter has no tale told, save that after much roaming his sorrow grew dulled and his heart dead, until at last in places very far away many a journey beyond the river of the Rodothlim he fell in with some huntsmen of the woods, and these were Men. Some of that company were thanes of Urin, or sons of them, and they had wandered darkly ever since that Battle of Tears, but now did Turambar join their number, and built his life anew so well as he might. Now that people had houses in a more smiling region of the woods in lands that were not utterly far from Sirion or the grassy hills of that river's middle course, and they were hardy men and bowed not to Melko, and Turambar got honour among them. Now is it to tell that far other had matters fallen out with Mavwin than the Foaloke had said to Turin, for her days turning to better she had peace and honour among the men of those regions. Nonetheless her grief at the loss of her son by reason of the cutting off of all messengers deepened only with the years, albeit Nienori grew to a most fair and slender maid. At the time of Turin's flight from the halls of Tinwelint she was already twelve" years old and tall and beautiful. Now the tale tells not the number of days that Turambar sojourned with the Rodothlim but these were very many, and during that time Nienori grew to the threshold of womanhood, and often was there speech between her and her mother of Turin that was lost. In the halls of Tinwelint too the memory of Turin lived still, and there still abode Gumlin, now decrepit in years, who aforetime had been the guardian of Turin's childhood upon that first journey to the Lands Beyond. Now was Gumlin white-haired and the years were heavy on him, but he longed

sorely for a sight once more of the folk of Men and of the Lady Mavwin his mistress. On a time then Gumlin learnt of the withdrawal from the hills of the greater number of those Orc-bands and other fierce beings of Melko's that had for so long made them impassable to Elves and Men. Now for a space were the hills and the paths that led over them far and wide free of his evil, for Melko had at that time a great and terrible project afoot, and that was the destruction of the Rodothlim and of many dwellings of the Gnomes beside, that his spies had revealed," yet all the folk of those regions breathed the freer for a while, though had they known all perchance they had not done so. Then Gumlin the aged fell to his knees before Tinwelint and begged that he suffer him to depart homeward, that he might see his mistress of old ere death took him to the halls of- Mandos -- if indeed that lady had not fared thither before him. Then the king" said yea, and for his journey he gave him two guides for the succouring of his age; yet those three, Gumlin and the woodland Elves, made a very hard journey, for it was late winter, and yet would Gumlin by no means abide until spring should come. Now as they drew nigh to that region of Hisilome where aforetime Mavwin had dwelt and nigh where she dwelt yet a great snow fell, as happened oft in those parts on days that should rather have been ones of early spring. Therein was Gumlin whelmed, and his guides seeking aid came unawares upon Mavwin's house, and calling for aid of her were granted it. Then by the aid of the folk of Mavwin was Gumlin found and carried to the house and warmed back to life, and coming to himself at length he knew Mavwin and was very joyful. Now when he was in part healed he told his tale to Mavwin, and as he recounted the years and the doughtiest of the feats of Turin she was glad, but great was her sorrow and dismay at the tidings of his sundering from Linwe" and the manner of it, and going from Gumlin she wept bitterly. Indeed for long and since ever she knew that Turin, an he lived, had grown to manhood she had wondered that he sought not back to her, and often dread had filled her heart lest attempting this he had perished in the hills; but now the truth was bitter to bear and she was desolate for a great while, nor might Nienori comfort her. Now by reason of the unkindness of the weather those guides that had brought Gumlin out of Tinwelint's realms abode as her guests until spring came, but with spring's first coming Gumlin died. Then arose Mavwin and going to several of the chiefs of those places she besought their aid, telling them the tale of Turin's fate as Gumlin had told it to her. But some laughed, saying she was deceived by the babblings of a dying man, and the most said that she was distraught with grief, and that it would be a fool's counsel to seek beyond the hills a man who had been lost for years agone: "nor," said they, "will we lend man or horse to such a quest, for all our love for thee, 0 Mavwin wife of Urin." Then Mavwin departed in tears but railed not at them, for she had scant hope in her plea and knew that wisdom was in their words. Nonetheless being unable to rest she came now to those guides of the Elves, who chafed already to be away beneath the sun; and she said to them: "Lead me now to your lord," and they would dissuade her, saying that the road was no road for a woman's feet to tread; yet she did not heed them. Rather did she beg of her friend whose name was Airin Faiglindra* (long-tressed) and was wed to Brodda a lord of that region, and rich and powerful, that Nienori might be taken under the guardianship of her husband and all her goods thereto. This did Airin obtain of Brodda without

great pleading, and when she knew this she would take farewell of her daughter; but her plan availed little, for Nienori stood before her mother and said: "Either thou goest not, 0 Mavwin my mother, or go we both," nor would anything turn her from those words. Therefore in the end did both mother and daughter make them ready for that sore journey, and the guides murmured much thereat. Yet it so happened that the season which followed that bitter winter was very kindly, and despite the forebodings of the guides the four passed the hills and made their long journey with no greater evils than hunger and thirst. Coming therefore at length before Tinwelint Mavwin cast herself down and wept, begging pardon for Turin and compassion and aid for herself and Nienori; but Tinwelint bade her arise and (* In the margin is written Firilanda.) seat herself beside Gwedheling his queen, saying: "Long years ago was Turin thy son forgiven, aye, even as he left these halls, and many a weary search have we made for him. No outlawry of mine was it that took him from this realm, but remorse and bitterness drew him to the wilds, and there, methinks, evil things o'ertook him, or an he lives yet I fear me it is in bondage to the Orcs." Then Mavwin wept again and implored the king to give her aid, for she said: "Yea verily I would fare until the flesh of my feet were worn away, if haply at the journey's end I might see the face of Turin son of Urin my well-beloved." But the king said that he knew not whither she might seek her son save in Angamandi, and thither he might not send any of his lieges, not though his heart were full of ruth for the sorrow of Urin's folk. Indeed Tinwelint spoke but as he believed just, nor meant he to add to Mavwin's sorrow save only to restrain her from so mad and deadly a quest, but Mavwin hearing him spake no word more, and going from him went out into the woods and suffered no one to stay her, and only Nienori followed her whithersoever she went. Now the folk of Tinwelint looked with pity on those twain and with kindness, and secretly they watched them, and unbeknown kept much harm from them, so that the wandering ladies of the woods became familiar among them and dear to many, yet were they a sight of ruth, and folk swore hatred to Melko and his works who saw them pass. Thus came it that after many moons Mavwin fell in with a band of wandering Gnomes, and entering into discourse with them the tale was told to her of the Rodothlim, such as those Gnomes knew of it, and of the dwelling of Turin among them. Of the whelming of that abode of folk by the hosts of Melko and by the dragon Glorund they told too, for those deeds were then new and their fame went far and wide. Now Turin they named not by name, calling him Mormakil, a wild man who fled from the face of Tinwelint and escaped thereafter from the hands of the Orcs. Then was the heart of Mavwin filled with hope and she questioned them more, but the Noldoli said that they had not heard that any came alive out of that ransacking save such as were haled to Angamandi, and then again was Mavwin's hope dashed low. Yet did she nonetheless get her back to the king's halls, and telling her tale besought his aid against the Foaloke. Now it was Mavwin's thought that perchance Turin dwelt yet in the thraldom of the dragon and it might fall to them in some manner to liberate him, or again should the prowess of the king's men suffice then might

they slay the worm in vengeance for his evils, and so at his death might he speak words of knowledge concerning the fate of Turin, were he indeed no longer nigh the caverns of the Rodothlim. Of

the mighty hoard that that worm guarded Mavwin recked little, but she spake much of it to Tinwelint, even as the Noldoli had spoken of it to her. Now the folk of Tinwelint were of the woodlands and had scant wealth, yet did they love fair and beauteous things, gold and silver and gems, as do all the Eldar but the Noldoli most of all; nor was the king of other mind in this, and his riches were small, save it be for that glorious Silmaril that many a king had given all his treasury contained if he might possess it. Therefore did Tinwelint answer: "Now shalt thou have aid, 0 Mavwin most steadfast, and, openly I say it to thee, it is not for hope of freeing Turin thereby that I grant it to thee, for such hope I do not see in this tale, but rather the death of hope. Yet it is a truth that I have need and desire of treasury, and it may be that such shall come to me by this venture; yet half of the spoil shalt thou have 0 Mavwin for the memory of Urin and Turin, or else shalt thou ward it for Nienori thy daughter." Then said Mavwin: "Nay, give me but a woodman's cot and my son," and the king answered: "That I cannot, for I am but a king of the wild Elves, and no Vala of the western isles." Then Tinwelint gathered a picked band of his warriors and hunters and told them his bidding, and it seemed that the name of the Foaloke was known already among them, and there were many who could guide the band unto the regions of his dwelling, yet was that name a terror to the stoutest and the places of his abode a land of accursed dread. Now the ancient dwellings of the Rodothlim were not utterly distant from the realm of Tinwelint, albeit far enough, but the king said to Mavwin: "Bide now and Nienori also with me, and my men shall fare against the drake, and all that they do and find in those places will they faithfully report," -- and his men said: "Yea, we will do thy bidding, 0 King," but fear stood in their eyes. Then Mavwin seeing it said: "Yea, 0 King, let Nienori my daughter bide indeed at the feet of Gwedheling the Queen, but I who care not an I die or live will go look upon the dragon and find my son"; and Tinwelint laughed, yet Gwedheling and Nienori fearing that she spake no jest pled earnestly with her. But she was as adamant, fearing lest this her last hope of rescuing Turin come to nought through the terror of Tinwelint's men, and none might move her. "Of love, I know," said she, "come all -the words ye speak, yet give me rather a horse to ride and if ye will a sharp knife for my own death at need, and let me be gone." Now these words struck amazement into those Elves that heard, for indeed the wives and daughters of Men in those days were hardy and their youth lasted a great span, yet did this seem a madness to all. Madder yet did it seem when Nienori, seeing the obstinacy of her mother, said before them all: "Then I too will go; whither my mother Mavwin goeth thither more easily yet shall I, Nienori daughter of Urin, fare"; but Gwedheling said to the king that he allow it not, for she was a fay and perchance foresaw dimly what might be. Then had Mavwin ended the dispute and departed from the king's presence into the woods, had not Nienori caught at her robe and stayed her, and so did all plead with Mavwin, till at length it was agreed that the king send a strong party against the Foaloke and that Nienori and Mavwin ride with them until the regions of the beast be found. Then should they seek a high place whence they might see something of the deeds yet in safety and secrecy, while the warriors crept upon the worm to slay it. Now of this high place a woodsman told, and often had he gazed therefrom upon the dwelling of the worm afar. At length was that band of dragonslayers got ready, and they were mounted upon goodly horses

swift and sure-going, albeit few of those beasts were possessed by the folk of the woods. Horses too were found for Nienori and for Mavwin, and they rode at the head of the warriors, and folk marvelled much to see their bearing, for the men of Urin and those amongst whom Nienori was nurtured were much upon horses, and both knave and maid among them rode even in tender years. After many days' going came now that cavalcade within view of a place that once had been a fair region, and through it a swift river ran over a rocky bed, and of one side was the brink of it high and tree-grown and of the other the land was more level and fertile and broad-swelling, but beyond the high bank of the river the hills drew close. Thither as they looked they saw that the land had become all barren and was blasted for a great distance about the ancient caverns of the Rodothlim, and the trees were crushed to the earth or snapped. Toward the hills a black heath stretched and the lands were scored with the great slots that that loathly worm made in his creeping. Many are the dragons that Melko has loosed upon the world and some are more mighty than others. Now the least mighty -- yet were they very great beside the Men of those days -- are cold as is the nature of snakes and serpents, and of them a many having wings go with the uttermost noise and speed; but the mightier are hot and very heavy and slow-going, and some belch flame, and fire flickereth beneath their scales, and the lust and greed and cunning evil of these is the greatest of all creatures: and such was the Foaloke whose burning there set all the places of his habitation in waste and desolation. Already greater far had this worm waxen than in the days of the onslaught upon the Rodothlim, and greater too was his hoarded treasure, for Men and Elves and even Orcs he slew, or enthralled that they served him, bringing him food to slake his lust [? on] precious things, and spoils of their harryings to swell his hoard. Now was that band aghast as they looked upon that region from afar, yet they prepared them for battle, and drawing lots sent one of their number with Nienori and Mavwin to that high place" upon the confines of the withered land that had been named, and it was covered with trees, and might be reached by hidden paths. Even as those three rode thither and the warriors crept stealthily toward the caves, leaving their horses that were already in a sweat of fear, behold the Foaloke came from his lair, and sliding down the bank lay across the stream, as often was his wont. Straightway great fog and steams leapt up and a stench was mingled therein, so that that band was whelmed in vapours and well-nigh stifled, and they crying to one another in the mist displayed their presence to the worm; and he laughed aloud. At that most awful of all sounds of beasts they fled wildly in the mists, and yet they could not discover their horses, for these in an extremity of terror broke loose and fled. Then Nienori hearing far cries and seeing the great mist roll toward them from the river turned back with her mother to the place of sundering, and there alighting waited in great doubt. Suddenly came that blind mist upon them as they stood, and with it came flying madly the dim horses of the huntsmen. Then their own catching their terror trampled to death that Elf who was their escort as he caught at the flying bridles, and wild with fear they sped to the dark woods and never more bore Man or Elf upon their saddles; but Mavwin and Nienori were left alone and succourless upon the borders of the places of fear. Very perilous indeed was their estate, and long they groped in the mist and knew not where they were nor saw they ever any of the band again, and only pale

voices seemed to pass them by afar crying out as in dread, and then all was silent. Now did they cling together and being weary stumbled on heedless whither their steps might go, till on a sudden the sun gleamed thin above them, and hope returned to them; and behold the mists lifted and the airs became clearer and they stood not far from the river. Even now it smoked as it were hot, and behold the Foaloke lay there and his eyes were upon them. No word did he speak nor did he move, but his baleful eye held their gaze until the strength seemed to leave their knees and their minds grew dim. Then did Nienori drag herself by a might of will from that influence for a while, and "Behold," she cried, "0 serpent of Melko, what wilt thou with us -- be swift to say or do, for know that we seek not thee nor thy gold but one Turin who dwelt here upon a time." Then said the drake, and the earth quaked at him: "Thou liest -- glad had ye been at my death, and glad thy band of cravens who now flee gibbering in the woods might they have despoiled me. Fools and liars, liars and cravens, how shall ye slay or despoil Glorund the Foaloke, who ere his power had waxen slew the hosts of the Rodothlim and Orodreth their lord, devouring all his folk.". "Yet perchance," said Nienori, "one Turin got him from that fray and dwells still here beneath thy bonds, an he has not escaped thee and is now far hence," and this she said at a venture, hoping against hope, but said the evil one: "Lo! the names of all who dwelt here before the taking of the caves of my wisdom I know, and I say to thee that none who named himself Turin went hence alive." And even so was Turin's boast subtly turned against him, for these beasts love ever to speak thus, doubly playing with cunning words. "Then was Turin slain in this evil place," said Mavwin, but the dragon answered: "Here did the name of Turin fade for ever from the earth -- but weep not, woman, for it was the name of a craven that betrayed his friends." "Foul beast, cease thy evil sayings," said Mavwin; "slayer of my son, revile not the dead, lest thine own bane come upon thee." "Less proud must be thy words, O Mavwin, an thou wilt escape torment or thy daughter with thee," did that drake answer, but Mavwin cried: "0 most accursed, lo! I fear thee not. Take me an thou wilt to thy torments and thy bondage, for of a truth I desired thy death, but suffer only Nienori my daughter to go back to the dwellings of Men: for she came hither constrained by me, and knowing not the purposes of our journey." "Seek not to cajole me, woman," sneered that evil one. "Liever

would I keep thy daughter and slay thee or send thee back to thy hovels, but I have need of neither of you." With those words he opened full his evil eyes, arid a light shone in them, and Mavwin and Nienori quaked beneath them and a swoon came upon their minds, and them seemed that they groped in endless tunnels of darkness, and there they found not one another ever again, and calling only vain echoes answered and there was no glimmer of light. When however after a time that she remembered not the blackness left the mind of Nienori, behold the river and the withered places of the Foaloke were no more about her, but the deep woodlands, and it was dusk. Now she seemed to herself to awake from dreams of horror nor could she recall them, but their dread hung dark behind her mind, and her memory of all past things was

dimmed. So for a long while she strayed lost in the woods, and haply the spell alone kept life in her, for she hungered bitterly and was athirst, and by fortune it was summer, for her garments became torn and her feet unshod and weary, and often she wept, and she went she knew not whither. Now on a time in an opening in the wood she descried a campment as it were of Men, and creeping nigh by reason of hunger to espy it she saw that they were creatures of a squat and unlovely stature that dwelt there, and most evil faces had they, and their voices and their laughter was as the clash of stone and metal. Armed they were with curved swords and bows of horn, and she was possessed with fear as she looked upon them, although she knew not that they were Orcs, for never had she seen those evil ones before. Now did she turn and flee, but was espied, and one let fly a shaft at her that quivered suddenly in a tree beside her as she ran, and others seeing that it was a woman young and fair gave chase whooping and calling hideously. Now Nienori ran as best she might for the density of the wood, but soon was she spent and capture and dread thraldom was very near, when one came crashing through the woods as though in answer to her lamentable cries. Wild and black was his hair yet streaked with grey, and his face was pale and marked as with deep sorrows of the past, and in his hand he bare a great sword whereof all but the very edge was black. Therewith he leapt against the following Orcs and hewed them, and they soon fled, being taken aback, and though some shot arrows at random amidst the trees they did little scathe, and five of them were slain. Then sat Nienori upon a stone and for weariness and the lessened strain of fear sobs shook her and she could not speak; but her rescuer stood beside her awhile and marvelled at her fairness and that she wandered thus lonely in the woods, and at length he said: "0 sweet maiden of the woods, whence comest thou, and what may be thy name?" "Nay, these things I know not," said she. "Yet methinks I stray very far from my home and folk, and many very evil things have fallen upon me in the way, whereof nought but a cloud hangs upon my memory -- nay, whence I am or whither I go I know not" -- and she wept a fresh, but that man spake, saying:" Then behold, I will call thee Niniel, or little one of tears," and thereat she raised her face towards his, and it was very sweet though marred with weeping, and she said with a look of wonderment:" Nay, not Niniel, not Niniel." Yet more might she not remember, and her face filled with distress, so that she cried: "Nay, who art thou, warrior of the woods; why troublest thou me?" "Turambar am I called," said he, "and no home nor kindred have I nor any past to think on, but I wander for ever," and again at that name that maiden's wonder stirred. "Now," said Turambar, "dry thy tears, 0 Niniel, for thou hast come upon such safety as these words afford. Lo, one am I now of a small folk of the forest, and a sweet dwelling in a clearing have we far from hence, but today as thy fortune would we fared a-hunting, -- aye, and Orc-harrying too, for we are hard put to it to fend those evil ones from our homes." Then did Niniel ( for thus Turambar called her ever, and she learnt to call it her name) fare away with him to his comrades, and they asking little got them upon horses, and Turambar set Niniel before him, and thus they fared as swift as they might from the danger of the Orcs. Now at the time of the affray of Turambar with the pursuing Orcs was half the day already spent, yet were they already leagues upon their way ere they dismounted once more, and it was then

early night. Already at the sunset had it seemed to Niniel that the woods were lighter and less gloomy and the air less evil-laden than behind. Now did they make a camp in a glade and the stars shone clear above where the tree-roof was thin, but Niniel lay a little apart and they gave her many fells to keep her from the night chills, and thus she slept more softly than for many a night and the breezes kissed her face, but Turambar told his comrades of the meeting in the wood and they wondered who she might be or how she came wandering thither as one under a spell of blind forgetfulness. Next day again they pressed on and so for many journeys more beside until at length weary and fain for rest they came one noon to a woodland stream, and this they followed for some way until, behold, they came to a place where it might be forded by reason of its shallowness and of the rocks that stood up in its course; but on their right it dived in a great fall and fell into a chasm, and Turambar pointing said: Mathusdor; at the fourth, Aryador > Mathusdor > Dor Lomin. Mithrim < Asgon throughout Tuor 8; Tuor C has Asgon unchanged. Glorfalc or Cris Ilbranteloth (p. 150) Tuor A has Glorfalc or Teld Quing Ilon; Tuor B as written had no Elvish names, Glorfalc or Cris Ilbranteloth being a later addition. Ainur As in the first draft of The Music of the Ainur (I.61) the original text of Tuor A had Ainu plural. Falasquil At both occurrences (p. 152) in Tuor A this replaces the original name now illegible but beginning with Q; in Tuor B my mother left blanks and added the name later in pencil; in Tuor C blanks are left in the typescript and not filled in. Arlisgion This name was added later to Tuor B. Orcs Tuor A and 8 had Orqui throughout; my father emended this in Tuor B to Orcs, but not consistently, and in the later part of the tale not at all. In one place only (p. 193, in Thorndor's speech) both texts have Orcs (also Orc-bands p. 195). As with the name Tuor/Tur I give throughout the form that was to prevail. At the only occurrence of the singular the word is written with a k in both Tuor A and 8 ('Ork's blood', p. 165). Car Thurion < Gar Furion in Tuor B (Gar Furion in Tuor C). Loth < Los in Tuor B (Los in Tuor C). Lothengriol ( Losengriol in Tuor B (Losengriol in Tuor C). Taniquetil At the occurrence on p. 161 there was added in the original text of Tuor A: (Danigwiel), but this was struck out. Kor Against this name (p. 161) is pencilled in Tuor B: Tun. See I. 222, II. 292. Car Ainion < Gar Ainon in Tuor B (p. 164; at the occurrence on p. 186 not emended, but I read Car Ainion in both places). Nost-na-Lothion ( Nost-na-Lossion in Tuor B. Duilin At the first occurrence (p. 173) < Duliglin in the original text of Tuor A. Rog In Tuor A spelt Rog in the earlier occurrences, Rog in the later; in Tuor B spelt Rog throughout but mostly emended later to Rog. Dramborleg At the occurrence on p. 181 < Drambor in the original text of Tuor A. Bansil At the occurrence on p. 184 only, Bansil > Banthil in Tuor B.

Cristhorn From the first occurrence on p. 189 written Cristhorn (not Cris Thorn) in Tuor A; Cris Thorn Tuor B throughout. Bad Uthwen < Bad Uswen in Tuor B. The original reading in Tuor A was (apparently) Bad Usbran. Sorontur ( Ramandur in Tuor B. Bablon, Ninwi, Trui, Rum The original text of Tuor A had Babylon, Nirteveh, Troy, and (probably) Rome. These were changed to the forms given in the text, except Nineveh > Ninwe, changed to Ninwi in Tuor B. Commentary on The Fall of Condolin. $ 1. The primary narrative. As with the Tale of Turambar I break my commentary on this tale into sections. I refer frequently to the much later version (which extends only to the coming of Tuor and Voronwe to sight of Gondolin across the plain) printed in Unfinished Tales pp. 17 -- 5I ('Of Tuor and his Coming to Gondolin'); this I shall call here 'the later Tuor.'. (i) Tuor's journey to the Sea and the visitation of Ulmo (pp. 14g -- 56). In places the later Tuor (the abandonment of which is one of the saddest facts in the whole history of incompletion) is so close in wording to The Fall of Condolin, written more than thirty years before, as to make it almost certain that my father had it in front of him, or at least had recently reread it. Striking examples from the late version (pp. 23 -- 4) are: 'The sun rose behind his back and set before his face, and where the water foamed among the boulders or rushed over sudden falls, at morning and evening rainbows were woven across the stream'; 'Now he said: "It is a fay-voice," now: "Nay, it is a small beast that is wailing in the waste"'; '[Tuor] wandered still for some days in a rugged country bare of trees; and it was swept by a wind from the sea, and all that grew there, herb or bush, leaned ever to the dawn because of the prevalence of that wind from the West' -- which are very closely similar to or almost identical with passages in the tale (pp. 150 -- 1). But the differences in the narrative are profound. Tuor's origin is left vague in the old story. There is a reference in the Tale of Turambar (p. 88) to 'those kindreds about the waters of Asgon whence after arose Tuor son of Peleg', but here it is said that Tuor did not dwell with his people (who 'wandered the forests and fells') but 'lived alone about that lake called Mithrim [< Asgon]', on which he journeyed in a small boat with a prow made like the neck of a swan. There is indeed scarcely any linking reference to other events, and of course no trace of the Grey-elves of Hithlum who in the later story fostered him, or of his outlawry and hunting by the Easterlings; but there are 'wandering Noldoli in Dor Lomin (Hisilome, Hithlum) -- on whom see p. 65 -from whom Tuor learnt much, including their tongue, and it was they who guided him down the dark river-passage under the mountains. There is in this a premonition of Gelmir and Arminas, the Noldorin Elves who guided Tuor through the Gate of the Noldor (later Tuor pp. 21--2), and the story that the Noldoli 'made that hidden way at the prompting of Ulmo' survived in the much richer historical context of the later legend, where 'the Gate of the Noldor... was made by the skill of that people, long ago in the days of Turgon' (later Tuor p. 18). The later Tuor becomes very close to the old story for a time when Tuor emerges out of the tunnel into the ravine (later called Cirith Ninniach, but still a name of Tuor's own devising); many features recur, such as the stars shining in the 'dark lane of sky above him', the echoes of his harping (in the tale of course without the literary echoes of Morgoth's cry and the voices of Feanor's host that landed there), his doubt concerning the mournful calling of the gulls, the narrowing of the ravine where the incoming tide (fierce because of the west wind) met the water of the river, and Tuor's escape by climbing to the cliff-top

(but in the tale the connection between Tuor's curiosity concerning the gulls and the saving of his life is not made: he climbed the cliff in response to the prompting of the Ainur). Notable is the retention of the idea that Tuor was the first of Men to reach the Sea, standing on the cliff-top with outspread arms, and of his 'sea-longing' (later Tuor p. 25). But the story of his dwelling in the cove of Falasquil and his adornment of it with carvings (and of course the floating of timber down the river to him by the Noldoli of Dor Lomin) was abandoned; in the later legend Tuor finds on the coast ruins of the ancient harbour-works of the Noldor from the days of Turgon's lordship in Nevrast, and of Turgon's former dwelling in these regions before he went to Gondolin there is in the old story no trace. Thus the entire Vinyamar episode is absent from it, and despite the frequent reminder that Ulmo was guiding Tuor as the instrument of his designs, the essential element in the later legend of the arms left for him by Turgon on Ulmo's instruction (?he Silmarillion pp. 126, 238 -- g) is lacking. The southward-flying swans (seven, not three, in the later Tuor) play essentially the same part in both narratives, drawing Tuor to continue his journey; but the emblem of the Swan was afterwards given a different origin, as 'the token of Annael and his foster-folk', the Grey-elves of Mithrim (later Tuor p. 25). Both in the route taken (for the geography see p. 217) and in the seasons of the year my father afterwards departed largely from the original story of Tuor's journey to Gondolin. In the later Tuor it was the Fell Winter after the fall of Nargothrond, the winter of Turin's return to Hithlum, when he and Voronwe journeyed in snow and bitter cold eastwards beneath the Mountains of Shadow. Here the journey takes far longer: he left Falasquil in 'the latest days of summer' (as still in the later Tuor) but he went down all the coast of Beleriand to the mouths of Sirion, and it was the summer of the following year when he lingered in the Land of Willows. (Doubtless the geography was less definite than it afterwards became, but its general resemblance to the later map seems assured by the description (p. 153) of the coast's trending after a time eastwards rather than southwards.) Only in its place in the narrative structure is there resemblance between Ulmo's visitation of Tuor in the Land of Willows in a summer twilight and his tremendous epiphany out of the rising storm on the coast at Vinyamar. It is however most remarkable that the old vision of the Land of Willows and its drowsy beauty of river-flowers and butterflies was not lost, though afterwards it was Voronwe, not Tuor, who wandered there, devising names, and who stood enchanted 'knee-deep in the grass' (p. 155; later Tuor p. 35), until his fate, or Ulmo Lord of Waters, carried him down to the Sea. Possibly there is a faint reminiscence of the old story in Ulmo's words (later Tuor p. 28): 'Haste thou must learn, and the pleasant road that I designed for thee must be changed.' In the tale, Ulmo's speech to Tuor (or at least that part of it that is reported) is far more simple and brief, and there is no suggestion there of Ulmo's 'opposing the will of his brethren, the Lords of the West'; but two essential elements of his later message are present, that Tuor will find the words to speak when he stands before Turgon, and the reference to Tuor's unborn son (in the later Tuor much less explicit: 'But it is not for thy valour only that I send thee, but to bring into the world a hope beyond thy sight, and a light that shall pierce the darkness'). (ii) The journey of Tuor and Voronwe to Gondolin (pp. 156 -- 8) Of Tuor's journey to Gondolin, apart from his sojourn in the Land of Willows, little is told in the tale, and Voronwe only appears late in its course as the one Noldo who was not too fearful to accompany him further; of Voronwe's history as afterwards related there is no word, and he is not an Elf of Gondolin. It is notable that the Noldoli who guided Tuor northwards from the Land of Willows call themselves thralls of Melko. On this matter

the Tales present a consistent picture. It is said in the Tale of Tinuviel (p. 9) that all the Eldar both those who remained in the dark or who had been lost upon the march from Palisor and those Noldoli too who fared back into the world after [Melko] seeking their stolen treasury fell beneath his power as thralls. In The Fall of Condolin it is said that the Noldoli did their service to Ulmo in secret, and 'out of fear of Melko wavered much' (p. 154), and Voronwe spoke to Tuor of 'the weariness of thraldom' (pp. 156 -- 7); Melko sent out his army of spies 'to search out the dwelling of the Noldoli that had escaped his thraldom' (p. 166). These 'thrall-Noldoli' are represented as moving as it were freely about the lands, even to the mouths of Sirion, but they 'wandered as in a dream of fear, doing [Melko's] ill bidding, for the spell of bottomless dread was on them and they felt the eyes of Melko burn them from afar' (Tale of Turambar, p. 77). This expression is often used: Voronwe rejoiced in Gondolin that he no longer dreaded Melko with 'a binding terror' -- 'and of a sooth that spell which Melko held over the Noldoli was one of bottomless dread, so that he seemed ever nigh them even were they far from the Hells of Iron, and their hearts quaked and they fled not even when they could' (p. 159). The spell of bottomless dread was laid too on Meglin (p. 16g). There is little in all this that cannot be brought more or less into harmony with the later narratives, and indeed one may hear an echo in the words of The Silmarillion (p. 156): But ever the Noldor feared most the treachery of those of their own kin, who had been thralls in Angband; for Morgoth used some of these for his evil purposes, and feigning to give them liberty sent them abroad, but their wills were chained to his, and they strayed only to come back to him again. Nonetheless one gains the impression that at that time my father pictured the power of Melko when at its height as operating more diffusedly and intangibly, and perhaps also more universally, in the Great Lands. Whereas in The Silmarillion the Noldor who are not free are prisoners in Angband (whence a few may escape, and others with enslaved wills may be sent out), here all save the Gondothlim are 'thralls', controlled by Melko from afar, and Melko asserts that the Noldoli are all, by their very existence in the Great Lands, his slaves by right. It is a difference difficult to define, but that there is a difference may be seen in the improbability, for the later story, of Tuor being guided on his way to Gondolin by Noldor who were in any sense slaves of Morgoth. The entrance to Gondolin has some general similarity to the far fuller and more precisely visualised account in the later Tuor: a deep rivergorge, tangled bushes, a cave-mouth -- but the river is certainly Sirion (see the passage at the end of the tale, p. 195, where the exiles come back to the entrance), and the entrance to the secret way is in one of the steep river banks, quite unlike the description of the Dry River whose ancient bed was itself the secret way (later Tuor pp. 43-4). The long tunnel which Tuor and Voronwe traverse in the tale leads them at length not only to the Guard but also to sunlight, and they are 'at the foot of steep hills' and can see the city: in other words there is a simple conception of a plain, a ring-wall of mountains, and a tunnel through them leading to the outer world. In the later Tuor the approach to the city is much stranger: for the tunnel of the Guard leads to the ravine of Orfalch Echor, a great rift from top to bottom of the Encircling Mountains ('sheer as if axecloven', p. 46), up which the road climbed through the successive gates until it came to the Seventh Gate, barring the rift at the top. Only when this last gate was opened and Tuor passed through was he able to see Gondolin; and we must suppose (though the narrative does not reach this point) that the travellers had to descend again from the Seventh Gate in order to reach the plain.

It is notable that Tuor and Voronwe are received by the Guard without any of the suspicion and menace that greeted them in the later story (p. 45). (iii) Tuor in Condolin (pp. 159 -- 64). With this section of the narrative compare The Silmarillion, p. 126: Behind the circle of the mountains the people of Turgon grew and throve, and they put forth their skill in labour unceasing, so that Gondolin upon Amon Gwareth became fair indeed and fit to compare even with Elven Tirion beyond the sea. High and white were its walls, and smooth its stairs, and tall and strong was the Tower of the King. There shining fountains played, and in the courts of Turgon stood images of the Trees of old, which Turgon himself wrought with elven-craft; and the Tree which he made of gold was named Glingal, and the Tree whose flowers he made of silver was named Belthil. The image of Gondolin was enduring, and it reappears in the glimpses given in notes for the continuation of the later Tuor (Unfinished Tales p. 56): the stairs up to its high platform, and its great gate... the Place of the Fountain, the King's tower on a pillared arcade, the King's house...' Indeed the only real difference that emerges from the original account concerns the Trees of Gondolin, which in the former were unfading, 'shoots of old from the glorious Trees of Valinor', but in The Silmarillion were images made of the precious metals. On the Trees of Gondolin see the entries Bansil and Glingol from the Name-list, given below pp. 214 -- 16. The gift by the Gods of these 'shoots' (which 'blossomed

eternally without abating') to Inwe and Noleme at the time of the building of Kor, each being given a shoot of either Tree, is mentioned in The Coming of the Elves (I. 123), and in The Hiding of Valinor there is a reference to the uprooting of those given to No1eme, which 'were gone no one knew whither, and more had there never been' (1.2I3). But a deep underlying shift in the history of Gondolin separates the earlier and later accounts: for whereas in the Last Tales (and later) Gondolin was only discovered after the Battle of Unnumbered Tears when the host of Turgon retreated southwards down Sirion, in The Silmarillion it had been found by Turgon of Nevrast more than four hundred years before (442years before Tuor came to Gondolin in the Fell Winter after the fall of Nargothrond in the year 495 of the Sun). In the tale my father imagined a great age passing between the Battle of Unnumbered Tears and the destruction of the city ('unstaying labour through ages of years had not sufficed to its building and adornment whereat folk travailed yet', p. 163); afterwards, with radical changes in the chronology of the First Age after the rising of the Sun and Moon, this period was reduced to no more than (in the last extant version of 'The Tale of Years' of the First Age) thirty-eight years. But the old conception can still be felt in the passage on p. 240 of The Silmarillion describing the withdrawal of the people of Gondolin from all concern with the world outside after the Nirnaeth Arnoediad, with its air of long years passing.> In The Silmarillion it is explicit that Turgon devised the city to be 'a memorial of Tirion upon Tuna' (p. 125), and it became 'as beautiful as a memory of Elven Tirion' (p. 240). This is not said in the old story, and indeed in the Last Tales Turgon himself had never known Kor (he was born in the Great Lands after the return of the Noldoli from Valinor, I. 167, 238, 24o); one may feel nonetheless that the tower of the King, the fountains and stairs, the white marbles of Gondolin embody a recollection of Kor as it is described in The Coming of the Elves and the Making of Kor (I. 122 -- 3). I have said above that 'despite the frequent reminder that Ulmo was guiding Tuor as the instrument of his designs, the essential element in the later legend of the arms left for him by Turgon on Ulmo's instruction is lacking'. Now however we seem to see the germ of this conception in Turgon's words to Tuor (p. 161): 'Thy coming was set in our books of

wisdom, and it has been written that there would come to pass many great things in the homes of the Gondothlim whenso thou faredst hither.' Yet it is clear from Tuor's reply that as yet the establishment of Gondolin was no part of Ulmo's design, since 'there have come to the ears of Ulmo whispers of your dwelling and your hill of vigilance against the evil of Melko, and he is glad'. (* Of the story of Gondolin from Tuor's coming to its destruction my father wrote nothing after the version of 'The Silmarillion' made (very probably) in 1930; and in this the old conception of its history was still present. This was the basis for much of Chapter 23 in the published work.) In the tale, Ulmo foresaw that Turgon would be unwilling to take up arms against Melko, and he fell back, through the mouth of Tuor, on a second counsel: that Turgon send Elves from Gondolin down Sirion to the coasts, there to build ships to carry messages to Valinor. To this Turgon replied, decisively and unanswerably, that he had sent messengers down the great river with this very purpose 'for years untold', and since all had been unavailing he would now do so no more. Now this clearly relates to a passage in The Silmarillion (p. 159) where it is said that Turgon, after the Dagor Bragollach and the breaking of the Siege of Angband, sent companies of the Gondolindrim in secret to the mouths of Sirion and the Isle of Balar. There they built ships, and set sail into the uttermost West upon Turgon's errand, seeking for Valinor, to ask for pardon and aid of the Valar; and they besought the birds of the sea to guide them. But the seas were wild and wide, and shadow and enchantment lay upon them; and Valinor was hidden. Therefore none of the messengers of Turgon came into the West, and many were lost and few returned. Turgon did indeed do so once more, after the Battle of Unnumbered Tears (The Silmarillion p. 196), and the only survivor of that last expedition into the West was Voronwe of Gondolin. Thus, despite profound changes in chronology and a great development in the narrative of the last centuries of the First Age, the idea of the desperate attempts of Turgon to get a message through to Valinor goes back to the beginning. Another aboriginal feature is that Turgon had no son; but (curiously) no mention whatsoever is made in the tale of his wife, the mother of Idril. In The Silmarillion (p. go) his wife Elenwe was lost in the crossing of the Helcaraxe, but obviously this story belongs to a later period, when Turgon was born in Valinor. The tale of Tuor's sojourn in Gondolin survived into the brief words of ?he Silmarillion (p. 241): And Tuor remained in Gondolin, for its bliss and its beauty and the wisdom of its people held him enthralled; and he became mighty in stature and in mind, and learned deeply of the lore of the exiled Elves. In the present tale he 'heard tell of Iluvatar, the Lord for Always, who dwelleth beyond the world', and of the Music of the Ainur. Knowledge of the very existence of Iluvatar was, it seems, a prerogative of the Elves; long afterwards in the garden of Mar Vanwa Tyalieva (I. 49) Eriol asked ɸ Rumil: 'Who was Iluvatar? Was he of the Gods?' and Rumil answered: 'Nay, that he was not; for he made them. Iluvatar is the Lord for Always, who dwells beyond the world.' (iv) The encirclement of Condolin; the treachery of Meglin (pp. 164 -- 71). The king's daughter was from the first named 'Idril of the Silver Feet' (Irilde in the language of the 'Eldar', note 22); Meglin (later Maeglin) was his nephew, though the name of his mother (Turgon's sister) Isfin was later changed. In this section of the narrative the story in The Silmarillion (pp. 241 -- 2) preserved all the essentials of the original version, with one major exception. The wedding of Tuor and Idril took place with the

consent and full favour of the king, and there was great joy in Gondolin among all save Maeglin (whose love of Idril is told earlier in The Silmarillion, p. 139, where the barrier of his being close kin to her, not mentioned in the tale, is emphasised). Idril's power of foreseeing and her foreboding of evil to come; the secret way of her devising (but in the tale this led south from the city, and the Eagles' Cleft was in the southern mountains); the loss of Meglin in the hills while seeking for ore; his capture by Orcs, his treacherous purchase of life, and his return to Gondolin to avert suspicion (with the detail of his changed mood thereafter and 'smiling face') -- all this remained. Much is of course absent (whether rejected or merely passed over) in the succinct account devised for The Silmarillion -- where there is no mention, for example, of Idril's dream concerning Meglin, the watch set on him when he went to the hills, the formation on Idril's advice of a guard bearing Tuor's emblem, the refusal of Turgon to doubt the invulnerability of the city and his trust in Meglin, Meglin's discovery of the secret way,*or the remarkable story that it was Meglin himself who conceived the idea of the monsters of fire and iron and communicated it to Melko -- a valuable defector indeed! The great difference between the versions lies of course in the nature of Melko/Morgoth's knowledge of Gondolin. In the tale, he had by means of a vast army of spies t already discovered it before ever Meglin was captured, and creatures of Melko had found the 'Way of Escape' and looked down on Gondolin from the surrounding heights. Meglin's treachery in the old story lay in his giving an exact account of the structure of the city and the preparations made for its defence -- and in his advice to Melko concerning the monsters of flame. In The Silmarillion, on the other hand, there is the element, devised much later, of the unconscious betrayal by Hurin to Morgoth's spies of the general region in which Gondolin must be sought, in 'the mountainous land between (* This is in fact specifically denied in The Silmarillion: 'she contrived it that the work was known but to few, and no whisper of it came to Maeglin's ears.' f It seems that the 'creatures of blood' (said to be disliked by the people of Gondolin, p. 166), snakes, wolves, weasels, owls, falcons, are here regarded as the natural servants and allies of Melko.) Anach and the upper waters of Sirion, whither [Morgoth's] servants had never passed' (p. 241); but 'still no spy or creature out of Angband could come there because of the vigilance of the eagles' -- and of this role of the eagles of the Encircling Mountains (though hostile to Melko, p. 193) there is in the original story no suggestion. Thus in The Silmarillion Morgoth remained in ignorance until Maeglin's capture of the precise location of Gondolin, and Maeglin's information was of correspondingly greater value to him, as it was also of greater damage to the city. The history of the last years of Gondolin has thus a somewhat different atmosphere in the tale, for the Gondothlim are informed of the fact that Melko has 'encompassed the vale of Tumladin around' (p. 167), and Turgon makes preparations for war and strengthens the watch on the hills. The withdrawal of all Melko's spies shortly before the attack on Gondolin did indeed bring about a renewal of optimism among the Gondothlim, and in Turgon not least, so that when the attack came the people were unprepared; but in the later story the shock of the sudden assault is much greater, for there has never been any reason to suppose that the city is in immediate danger, and Idril's foreboding is peculiar to herself and more mysterious. (v) The array of the Condothlim (pp. 171 -- 4). Though the central image of this part of the story -- the people of Gondolin looking out from their walls to hail the rising sun on the feast of the Gates of Summer, but seeing a red light rising in the north and not in the east -- survived, of all the heraldry in this passage scarcely anything is found in later writings. Doubtless, if my father had continued the later

Tuor, much would have re-emerged, however changed, if we judge by the rich 'heraldic' descriptions of the great gates and their guards in the Orfalch Echor (pp. 46 -- 50). But in the concise account in The Silmarillion the only vestiges are the titles Ecthelion 'of the Fountain'* and Glorfindel 'chief of the House of the Golden Flower of Gondolin'. Ecthelion and Glorfindel are named also in The Silmarillion (p. 194) as Turgon's captains who guarded the Hanks of the host of Gondolin in their retreat down Sirion from the Nirnaeth Arnoediad, but of other captains named in the tale there is no mention afterwards + -- though it is significant that the eighteenth Ruling Steward of Gondor was named Egalmoth, as the (* In the later Tuor (p. 50) he is 'Lord o( the Fountains', plural (the reading in the manuscript is certain). + In the version o( 'The Silmarillion' made in 1930 (see footnote on p. 208), the last account of the Fall of Gondolin to bc written and the basis for that in chapter 23 of the published work, the text actually reads: '... much is told in The Fall of Gondolin: of the death of Rog without the walls, and of the battle of Ecthelion of the Fountain ', &c. I removed the reference to Rog (The Silmarillion p. 242) on the grounds that it was absolutely certain that my father would not have retained this name as that of a lord of Gondolin.)

seventeenth and twenty-fifth were named Ecthelion (The Lord of the Rings, Appendix A (1,ii)).* Glorfindel 'of the golden hair' (p. 192) remains 'yellow-haired Glorfindel' in The Silmarillion, and this was from the beginning the meaning of his name. (vi) The battle of Condolin (pp. 174-88). Virtually the entire history of the fighting in Gondolin is unique in the tale of The Fall of Condolin; the whole story is summarised in The Silmarillion (p. 242) in a few lines: Of the deeds of desperate valour there done, by the chieftains of the noble houses and their warriors, and not least by Tuor, much is told in The Fall of Condolin: of the battle of Ecthelion of the Fountain with Gothmog Lord of Balrogs in the very square of the King, where each slew the other, and of the defence of the tower of Turgon by the people of his household, until the tower was overthrown: and mighty was its fall and the fall of Turgon in its ruin. Tuor sought to rescue Idril from the sack of the city, but Maeglin had laid hands on her, and on Earendil; and Tuor fought with Maeglin on the walls, and cast him far out, and his body as it fell smote the rocky slopes of Amon Gwareth thrice ere it pitched into the flames below. Then Tuor and Idril led such remnants of the people of Gondolin as they could gather in the confusion of the burning down the secret way which Idril had prepared. (In this highly compressed account the detail that Maeglin's body struck the slopes of Amon Gwareth three times before it 'pitched' into the flames was retained.) It would seem from The Silmarillion account that Maeglin's attempt on Idril and Earendil took place much later in the fighting, and indeed shortly before the escape of the fugitives down the tunnel; but I think that this is far more likely to be the result of compression than of a change in the narrative of the battle. In the tale Gondolin is very clearly visualised as a city, with its markets and its great squares, of which there are only vestiges in later writing (see above, p. 207); and there is nothing vague in the description of the fighting. The early conception of the Balrogs makes them less terrible, and certainly more destructible, than they afterwards became: they (*In a very late note written on one of the texts that constitute chapter 16 of The Silmarillion ('Of Maeglin') my father was thinking of making the 'three lords of his household' whom Turgon appointed to ride with Aredhel from Gondolin (p. 131) Glorfindel, Ecthelion, and Egalmoth. He notes that Ecthelion and Egalmoth 'are derived from the primitive F[all of] G[ondolin]', but that they 'are well soundinga and have been in

print' (with reference to the names of the Stewards of Gondor). Subsequently he decided against naming Aredhel's escort.) existed in 'hundreds' (p. 170),* and were slain by Tuor and the Gondothlim in large numbers: thus five fell before Tuor's great axe Dramborleg, three before Ecthelion's sword, and two score were slain by the warriors of the king's house. The Balrogs are 'demons of power' (p. 181); they are capable of pain and fear (p. 194); they are attired in iron armour (pp. 181, 194), and they have whips of flame (a character they never lost) and claws of steel (pp. 169, 179). In The Silmarillion the dragons that came against Gondolin were 'of the brood of Glaurung', which 'were become now many and terrible'; whereas in the tale the language employed (p. 170) suggests that some at least of the 'Monsters' were inanimate 'devices', the construction of smiths in the forges of Angband. But even the 'things of iron' that 'opened about their middles' to disgorge bands of Orcs are called 'ruthless beasts', and Gothmog 'bade' them 'pile themselves' (p. 176); those made of bronze or copper 'were given hearts and spirits of blazing fire'; while the 'fire-drake' that Tuor hewed screamed and lashed with its tail (p. 181). A small detail of the narrative is curious: what 'messengers' did Meglin send to Melko to warn him to guard the outer entrance of the Way of Escape (where he guessed that the secret tunnel must lead in the end)? Whom could Meglin trust sufficiently? And who would dare to go? (vii) The escape of the fugitives and the battle in Cristhorn (pp. 188 -- 95). The story as told in The Silmarillion (p. 243) is somewhat fuller in its account of the escape of the fugitives from the city and the ambush in the Eagles' Cleft (there called Cirith Thoronath) than in that of the assault and sack itself, but only in one point are the two narratives actually at variance -- as already noticed, the Eagles' Cleft was afterwards moved from the southern parts of the Encircling Mountains to the northern, and Idril's tunnel led north from the city (the comment is made that it was not thought 'that any fugitives would take a path towards the north and the highest parts of the mountains and the nighest to Angband'). The tale provides a richness of detail and an immediacy that is lacking in the short version, where such things as the tripping over dead bodies in the hot and reeking underground passage have disappeared; and there is no mention of the Gondothlim who against the counsel of Idril and Tuor went to the Way of Escape and were there destroyed by the dragon lying in wait, f' or of the fight to rescue Earendel. (* The idea that Morgoth disposed of a 'host' of Balrogs endured long, but in a late note my father said that only very few ever existed -- 'at most seven'. + This element in the story was in fact still present in the 1930 'Silmarillion' (see footnote on p.208), but I excluded it from the published work on account of evidence in a much later text that the old entrance to Gondolin had by this time been blocked up -- a fact which was then written into the text in chapter 23 of The Silmarillion.

In the tale appears the keen-sighted Elf Legolas Greenleaf, first of the names of the Fellowship of the Ring to appear in my father's writings (see p. 217 on this earlier Legolas), followed by Gimli (an Elf) in the Tale of Tinuviel. In one point the story of the ambush in Cristhorn seems difficult to follow: this is the statement on p. 193 that the moon 'lit not the path for the height of the walls'. The fugitives were moving southwards through the Encircling Mountains, and the sheer rockwall above the path in the Eagles' Cleft was 'of the right or westerly hand', while on the left there was 'a fall... dreadly steep'. Surely then the moon rising in the east would illuminate the path? The name Cristhorn appears in my father's drawing of 'Gondolin and the Vale of Tumladin from Cristhorn', September 1928 (Pictures

by J. R. R. Tolkien, 1979, no. 35). (viii) The wanderings of the Exiles of Condolin (pp. 195 -- 7). In The Silmarillion (p. 243) it is said that 'led by Tuor son of Huor the remnant of Gondolin passed over the mountains, and came down into the Vale of Sirion'. One would suppose that they came down into Dimbar, and so 'fleeing southward by weary and dangerous marches they came at length to Nan-tathren, the Land of Willows'. It seems strange in the tale that the exiles were wandering in the wilderness for more than a year, and yet achieved only to the outer entrance of the Way of Escape; but the geography of this region may have been vaguer when The Fall of Condolin was written. In The Silmarillion when Tuor and Idril went down from Nantathren to the mouths of Sirion they 'joined their people to the company of Elwing, Dior's daughter, that had fled thither but a little while before'. Of this there is no mention here; but I postpone consideration of this part of the narrative. Entries in the Name-list to The Fall of Condolin On this list see p. 148, where the head-note to it is given. Specifically linguistic information from the list, including meanings, is incorporated in the Appendix on Names, but I collect here some statements of other kind (arranged in alphabetical order) that are contained in it. Bablon 'was a city of Men, and more rightly Babylon, but such is the Gnomes' name as they now shape it, and they got it from Men aforetime.' Bansil 'Now this name had the Gondothlim for that tree before their king's door which bore silver blossom and faded not -- and its name had Elfriniel from his father Voronwe; and it meaneth "Fairgleam". Now that tree of which it was a shoot (brought in the deep ages out

of Valinor by the Noldoli) had like properties, but greater, seeing that for half the twenty-four hours it lit all Valinor with silver light. This the Eldar still tell of as Silpion or "Cherry-moon", for its blossom was like that of a cherry in spring -- but of that tree in Gondolin they know no name, and the Noldoli tell of it alone.' Dor Lomin 'or the "Land of Shadows" was that region named of the Eldar Hisilome (and this means Shadowy Twilights) where Melko shut Men, and it is so called by reason of the scanty sun which peeps little over the Iron Mountains to the east and south of it-there dwell now the Shadow Folk. Thence came Tuor to Gondolin.' Earendel 'was the son of Tuor and Idril and 'tis said the only being that is half of the kindred of the Eldalie and half of Men. He was the greatest and first of all mariners among Men, and saw regions that Men have not yet found nor gazed upon for all the multitude of their boats. He rideth now with Voronwe upon the winds of the firmament nor comes ever further back than Kor, else would he die like other Men, so much of the mortal is in him.' (For these last statements about Earendel see pp. 264-5. The statement that Earendel was 'the only being that is half of the kindred of the Eldalie and half of Men' is very notable. Presumably this was written when Beren was an Elf, not a Man (see p. 139); Dior son of Beren and Tinuviel appears in the Tale of the Nasglafring, but there Beren is an Elf, and Dior is not Half-elven. In the tale of The Fall of Gondolin itself it is said, but in a later replacement passage (p. 164 and note 22), that Tuor was the first but not the last to wed 'a daughter of Elfinesse'. On the extraordinary statement in the Tale of Turambar that Tamar Lamefoot was Half-elven see p. 130.) Ecthelion 'was that lord of the house of the Fountain, who had the fairest voice and was most skilled in musics of all the Gondothlim. He won renown for ever by his slaying of Gothmog son of Melko, whereby Tuor was saved from death but Ecthelion was drowned with his foe

in the king's fountain.' Egalmoth was 'lord of the house of the Heavenly Arch, and got even out of the burning of Gondolin, and dwelt after at the mouth of Sirion, but was slain in a dire battle there when Melko seized Elwing'. (See p. 258.) Galdor 'was that valiant Gnome who led the men of the Tree in many a charge and yet won out of Gondolin and even the onslaught of Melko upon the dwellers at Sirion's mouth and went back to the ruins with Earendel. He dwelleth yet in Tol Eressea (said Elfriniel), and still do some of his folk name themselves Nos Galdon, for Galdon is a tree, and thereto Galdor's name akin.' The last phrase was emended to read: 'Nos nan Alwen, for Alwen is a Tree.' (For Galdor's return to the ruins of Gondolin with Earendel see P- 258.) Glingol 'meaneth "singing-gold" ('tis said), and this name was that which the Gondothlim had for that other of the two unfading trees in the king's square which bore golden bloom. It also was a shoot from the trees of Valinor (see rather where Elfrith has spoken of Bansil), but of Lindelokte (which is "singing-cluster") or Laurelin [emended from Lindelaure] (which is "singing-gold") which lit all Valinor with golden light for half the 24 hours.' (For the name Lindelokte see I. 22, 258 (entry Lindelos).) Clorfindel 'led the Golden Flower and was the best beloved of the Gondothlim, save it be Ecthelion, but who shall choose. Yet he was hapless and fell slaying a Balrog in the great fight in Cristhorn. His name meaneth Goldtress for his hair was golden, and the name of his house in Noldorissa Los'loriol' (emended from Los Gloriol). Gondolin 'meaneth stone of song (whereby figuratively the Gnomes meant stone that was carven and wrought to great beauty), and this was the name most usual of the Seven Names they gave to their city of secret refuge from Melko in those days before the release.' Gothmog 'was a son of Melko and the ogress Fluithuin and his name is Strife-and-hatred, and he was Captain of the Balrogs and lord of Melko's hosts ere fair Ecthelion slew him at the taking of Gondolin. The Eldar named him Kosmoko or Kosomok(o), but 'tis a name that fitteth their tongue no way and has an ill sound even in our own rougher speech, said Elfrith [emended fmm Elfriniel].' (In a list of names of the Valar associated with the tale of The Coming of the Valar (I. 93) it is said that Melko had a son 'by Ulbandi' called Kosomot; the early 'Qenya' dictionary gives Kosomoko = Gnomish Gothmog, I.258. In the tale Gothmog is called the 'marshal' of the hosts of Melko (p. 184).) In the later development of the legends Gothmog was the slayer of Feanor, and in the Battle of Unnumbered Tears it was he who slew Fingon and captured Hurin (The Silmarillion pp. IO7, I93, 195). He is not of course called later son of Melkor -, the Children of the Valar' was a feature of the earlier mythology that my father discarded. In the Third Age Gothmog was the name of the lieutenant of Minas Morgul (The Return of the King V.6).) Hendor 'was a house-carle of Idril's and was aged, but bore Earendel down the secret passage.' Idril 'was that most fair daughter of the king of Gondolin whom Tuor loved when she was but a little maid, and who bare him Earendel. Her the Elves name Irilde; and we speak of as Idril Tal-Celeb or Idril of the Silver Feet, but they Irilde Taltelepta.' See the Appendix on Names, entry Idril. Indor 'was the name of the father of Tuor's father, wherefore did the Gnomes name Earendel Gon Indor and the Elves Indorildo or Indorion.'

Legolas 'or Green-leaf was a man of the Tree, who led the exiles over Tumladin in the dark, being night-sighted, and he liveth still in Tol Eressea named by the Eldar there Laiqalasse; but the book of Rumil saith further hereon.' (See I. 267, entry Tari-Laisi.) $3 Miscellaneous Matters. (i) The geography of The Fall of Gondolin. I have noticed above (p. 205) that in Tuor's journey all along the coast of what was afterwards Beleriand to the mouths of Sirion there is an unquestionable resemblance to the later map, in the trend of the coast from north-south to east-west. It is also said that after he left Falasquil 'the distant hills marched ever nearer to the margin of the sea', and that the spurs of the Iron Mountains 'run even to the sea' (pp. 152-3). These statements can likewise be readily enough related to the map, where the long western extension of the Mountains of Shadow (Ered Wethrin), forming the southern border of Nevrast, reached the sea at Vinyamar (for the equation of the Mountains of Iron and the Mountains of Shadow see I. III -- 12). Arlisgion, 'the place of reeds' (p. 153) above the mouths of Sirion, survived in Lisgardh 'the land of reeds at the Mouths of Sirion' in the later Tuor (p. 34); and the feature that the great river passed underground for a part of its course goes back to the earliest period, as does that of the Meres of Twilight, Aelin-uial ('the Pools of Twilight', p. 195). There is here however a substantial difference in the tale from?he Silmarillion (p. 122), where Aelin-uial was the region of great pools and marshes where 'the flood of Sirion was stayed', south of the Meres the river 'fell from the north in a mighty fall... and then he plunged suddenly underground into great tunnels that the weight of his falling waters delved'. Here on the other hand the Pools of Twilight are clearly below the 'cavern of the Tumultuous Winds' (never mentioned later) where Sirion dives underground. But the Land of Willows, below the region of Sirion's underground passage, is placed as it was to remain. Thus the view I expressed (p. 141) of the geographical indications in the Tale of Turambar can be asserted also of those of The Fall of Gondolin. (ii) Ulmo and the other Valar in The Fall of Condolin. In the speech of Tuor inspired by Ulmo that he uttered at his first meeting with Turgon (p. 161) he said: 'the hearts of the Valar are angered... seeing the sorrow of the thraldom of the Noldoli and the wanderings of Men.' This is greatly at variance with what is told in The Hiding of Valinor, especially the following (I. 208-- 9):* The most of the Valar moreover were fain of their ancient ease and desired only peace, wishing neither rumour of Melko and his violence nor murmur of the restless Gnomes to come ever again among them to disturb their happiness; and for such reasons they also clamoured for the concealment of the land. Not the least among these were Vina and Nessa, albeit most even of the great Gods were of one mind. In vain did Ulmo of his foreknowing plead before them for pity and pardon on the Noldoli... Subsequently Tuor said (p. 161): 'the Gods sit in Valinor, though their mirth is minished for sorrow and fear of Melko, and they hide their land and weave about it inaccessible magic that no evil come to its shores.' Turgon in his reply ironically echoed and altered the words: 'they that sit within [i.e. in Valinor] reck little of the dread of Melko or the sorrow of the world, but hide their land and weave about it inaccessible magic, that no tidings of evil come ever to their ears.' How is this to be understood? Was this Ulmo's 'diplomacy'? Certainly Turgon's understanding of the motives of the Valar chimes better with what is said of them in The Hiding of Valinor. But the Gnomes of Gondolin reverenced the Valar. There were 'pomps of the Ainur' (p. 165); a great square of the city and its highest

point was Gar Ainion, the Place of the Gods, where weddings were celebrated (pp. 164, 186); and the people of the Hammer of Wrath 'reverenced Aule the Smith more than all other Ainur' (p. 174). Of particular interest is the passage (p. 165) in which a reason is given for Ulmo's choice of a Man as the agent of his designs: 'Now Melko was not much afraid of the race of Men in those days of his great power, and for this reason did Ulmo work through one of this kindred for the better deceiving of Melko, seeing that no Valar and scarce any of the Eldar or Noldoli might stir unmarked of his vigilance.' This is the only place where a reason is expressly offered, save for an isolated early note, where two reasons are given: (1) 'the wrath of the Gods' (i.e. against the Gnomes); (2) 'Melko did not fear Men -- had he thought that any messengers were getting to Valinor he would have redoubled his vigilance and evil and hidden the Gnomes away utterly.' (* It also seems to be at variance with the story that all Men were shut in Hithlum by Melko's decree after the Battle of Unnumbered Tears; but 'wanderings' isa strange word in the context, since the next words are 'for Melko ringeth them in the Land of Shadows'.) But this is too oblique to be helpful. The conception of 'the luck of the Gods' occurs again in this tale (pp. 188, 200 note 32), as it does in the Tale of Turambar: see p. 141. The Ainur 'put it into Tuor's heart' to climb the cliff out of the ravine of Golden Cleft for the saving of his life (p. 151). Very strange is the passage concerning the birth of Earendel (p. 165): 'In these days came to pass the fulfilment of the time of the desire of the Valar and the hope of the Eldalie, for in great love Idril bore to Tuor a son and he was called Earendel.' Is it to be understood that the union of Elf and mortal Man, and the birth of their offspring, was 'the desire of the Valar' -- that the Valar foresaw it, or hoped for it, as the fulfilment of a design of Iluvatar from which great good should come? There is no hint or suggestion of such an idea elsewhere. (iii) Orcs. There is a noteworthy remark in the tale (p. 159) concerning the origin of the Orcs (or Orqui as they were called in Tuor A, and in Tuor B as first written): 'all that race were bred of the subterranean heats and slime.' There is no trace yet of the later view that 'naught that had life of its own, nor the semblance of life, could ever Melkor make since his rebellion in the Ainulindale before the Beginning', or that the Orcs were derived from enslaved Quendi after the Awakening (The Silmarillion p. 50). Conceivably there is a first hint of this idea of their origin in the words of the tale in the same passage: 'unless it be that certain of,the Noldoli were twisted to the evil of Melko and mingled among these Orcs', although of course this is as it stands quite distinct from the idea that the Orcs were actually bred from Elves. Here also occurs the name Glamhoth of the Orcs, a name that reappears in the later Tuor (pp. 39 and 54 note 18). On Balrogs and Dragons in The Fall of Gondolin see pp. 212 -- 13. (iv) Noldorin in the Land of Willows. 'Did not even after the days of Tuor Noldorin and his E1dar come there seeking for Dor Lomin and the hidden river and the caverns of the Gnomes' imprisonment; yet thus nigh to their quest's end were like to abandon it? Indeed sleeping and dancing here... they were whelmed by the goblins sped by Melko from the Hills of Iron and Noldorin made bare escape thence' (p. 154). This was the Battle of Tasarinan, mentioned in the Tale of Turambar (pp. 70, 140), at the time of the great expedition of the Elves from Kor. Cf. Lindo's remark in The Cottage of Lost Play (I. 16) that his father Valwe 'went with Noldorin to find the Gnomes'. Noldorin (Salmar, companion of Ulmo) is also said in the tale to have fought beside Tulkas at the Pools of Twilight against Melko himself, though his name was struck out (p. 195 and note 38); this was after the

Battle of Tasarinan. On these battles see pp. 278 ff. (v) The stature of Elves and Men. The passage concerning Tuor's stature on p. 159, before it was rewritten (see note 18), can only mean that while Tuor was not himself unusually tall for a Man he was nonetheless taller than the Elves of Gondolin, and thus agrees with statements made in the Tale of Turambar (see p. 142). As emended, however, the meaning is rather that Men and Elves were not greatly distinct in stature. (vi) Isfin and Eol. The earliest version of this tale is found in the little Lost Tales notebook (see I. 171), as follows: Isfin and Eol. Isfin daughter of Fingolma loved from afar by Eol (Arval) of the Mole-kin of the Gnomes. He is strong and in favour with Fingolma and with the Sons of Feanor (to whom he is akin) because he is a leader of the Miners and searches after hidden jewels, but he is illfavoured and Isfin loathes him. (Fingolma as a name for Finwe Noleme appears in outlines for Gilfanon's Tale, I.238-9.) We have here an illfavoured miner named Eol 'of the Mole' who loves Isfin but is rejected by her with loathing; and this is obviously closely parallel to the illfavoured miner Meglin with the sign of the sable mole seeking the hand of Idril, who rejects him, in The Fall of Gondolin. It is difficult to know how to interpret this. The simplest explanation is that the story adumbrated in the little notebook is actually earlier than that in The Fall of Condolin; that Meglin did not yet exist; and that subsequently the image of the 'ugly miner -- unsuccessful suitor' became that of the son, the object of desire becoming Idril (niece of Isfin), while a new story was developed for the father, Eol the dark Elf of the forest who ensnared Isfin. But it is by no means clear where Eol the miner was when he 'loved from afar' Isfin daughter of Fingolma. There seems to be no reason to think that he was associated with Gondolin; more probably the idea of the miner bearing the sign of the Mole entered Gondolin with Meglin.

IV. THE NAUGLAFRING. We come now to the last of the original Lost Tales to be given consecutive narrative form. This is contained in a separate notebook, and it bears the title The Nauglafring: The Necklace of the Dwarves. The beginning of this tale is somewhat puzzling. Before the telling of The Fall of Condolin Lindo told Littleheart that 'it is the desire of all that you tell us the tales of Tuor and of Earendel as soon as may be' (p. 144), and Littleheart replied: 'It is a mighty tale, and seven times shall folk fare to the Tale-fire ere it be rightly told; and so twined is it with those stories of the Nauglafring and of the Elf-march that I would fain have aid in that telling of Ailios here...' Thus Littleheart's surrender of the chair of the tale-teller to Ailios at the beginning of the present text, so that Ailios should tell of the Nauglafring, fits the general context well; but we should not expect the new tale to be introduced with the words 'But after a while silence fell', since The Fall of Gondolin ends 'And no one in all the Room of Logs spake or moved for a great while.' In any case, after the very long Fall of Gondolin the next tale would surely have waited till the following evening. This tale is once again a manuscript in ink over a wholly erased original in pencil, but only so far as the words 'sate his greed' on page 230. From this point to the end there is only a primary manuscript in pencil in the first stage of composition, written in haste -- in places hurled on to the page, with a good many words not certainly decipherable; and a part of this was extensively rewritten while the tale was still in progress (see note 13). The Nauglafring

The Necklace of the Dwarves. But after a while silence fell, and folk murmured 'Earendel', but others said 'Nay -- what of the Nauglafring, the Necklace of the Dwarves.' Therefore said Ilfiniol, leaving the chair of the taleteller: 'Yea, better would the tale be told if Ailios would relate the matters concerning that necklace,' and Ailios being nowise unwilling thus began, looking upon the company. 'Remember ye all how Urin the Steadfast cast the gold of Glorund before the feet of Tinwelint, and after would not touch it again, but went in sorrow back to Hisi1ome, and there died?' And all said that that tale was still fresh in their hearts. 'Behold then,' said Ailios, 'in great grief gazed the king upon Urin as he left the hall, and he was weary for the evil of Melko that thus deceived all hearts; yet tells the tale that so potent were the spells that Mim the fatherless had woven about that hoard that, even as it lay upon the floor of the king's halls shining strangely in the light of the torches that burnt there, already were all who looked upon it touched by its subtle evil. Now therefore did those of Urin's band murmur, and one said to the king: "Lo, lord, our captain Urin, an old man and mad, has departed, but we have no mind to forego our gain." Then said Tinwelint, for neither was he untouched by the golden spell: "Nay then, know ye not that this gold belongs to the kindred of the Elves in common, for the Rodothlim who won it from the earth long time ago are no more, and no one has especial claim' to so much as a handful save only Urin by reason of his son Turin, who slew the Worm, the robber of the Elves; yet Turin is dead and Urin will have none of it; and Turin was my man." At those words the outlaws fell into great wrath, until the king said: "Get ye now gone, and seek not 0 foolish ones to quarrel with the Elves of the forest, lest death or the dread enchantments of Valinor find you in the woods. Neither revile ye the name of Tinwelint their king, for I will reward you richly enough for your travail and the bringing of the gold. Let each one now approach and take what he may grasp with either hand, and then depart in peace." Now were the Elves of the wood in turn displeased, who long had stood nigh gazing on the gold; but the wild folk did as they were bid, and yet more, for some went into the hoard twice and thrice, and angry cries were raised in that hall. Then would the woodland Elves hinder them of their thieving, and a great dissension arose, so that though the king would stay them none heeded him. Then did those outlaws being fierce and fearless folk draw swords and deal blows about them, so that soon there was a great fight even upon the steps of the high-seat of the king. Doughty were those outlaws and great wielders of sword and axe from their warfare with Orcs,'so that many were slain ere the king, seeing that peace and pardon might no longer be, summoned a host of his warriors, and those outlaws being wildered with the stronger magics of the king' and confused in the dark ways of the halls of Tinwelint were all slain fighting bitterly; but the i ] king's hall ran with gore, and the gold that lay before his throne,' scattered and spurned by trampling feet, was drenched with blood. Thus did the curse of Mim the Dwarf begin its course; and yet another sorrow sown by the Noldoli of old in Valinor was come to fruit.' Then were the bodies of the outlaws cast forth, but the woodland Elves that were slain Tinwelint let bury nigh to the knoll of

Tinuviel, and 'tis said that the great mound stands there still in Artanor, and for long the fairies called it Cum an-Idrisaith, the Mound of Avarice. Now came Gwenniel to Tinwelint and said: "Touch not this gold, for my heart tells me it is trebly cursed. Cursed indeed by the dragon's breath, and cursed by thy lieges' blood that moistens it, and the death of those' they slew; but some more bitter and more binding ill methinks hangs over it that I may not see." Then, remembering the wisdom of Gwenniel his wife, the king was minded to hearken to her, and he bade gather it up and cast it into the stream before the gates. Yet even so he might not shake off its spell, and he said to himself: "First will I gaze my last upon its loveliness ere I fling it from me for ever." Therefore he let wash it clean of its stains of blood in clear waters, and display it before him. Now such mighty heaps of gold have never since been gathered in one place; and some thereof was wrought to cups, to basons, and to dishes, and hilts there were for swords, and scabbards, and sheaths for daggers; but the most part was of red gold unwrought lying in masses and in bars. The value of that hoard no man could count, for amid the gold lay many gems, and these were very beautiful to look upon, for the fathers of the Rodothlim had brought them out of Valinor, a portion of that boundless treasury the Noldoli had there possessed. Now as he gazed Tinwelint said: "How glorious is this treasure! And I have not a tithe thereof, and of the gems of Valinor none save that Silmaril that Beren won from Angamandi." But Gwenniel who stood by said: "And that were worth all that here lies, were it thrice as great." Then arose one from among the company, and that was Ufedhin, a Gnome; but more had he wandered about the world than any of the king's folk, and long had he dwelt with the Nauglath and the Indrafangs their kin. The Nauglath are a strange race and none know surely whence they be; and they serve not Melko nor Manwe and reck not for Elf or Man, and some say that they have not heard of Iluvatar, or hearing disbelieve.

Howbeit in crafts and sciences and in the knowledge of the virtues of all things that are in the earth or under the water none excel them; yet they dwell beneath the ground in caves and tunnelled towns, and aforetime Nogrod was the mightiest of these. Old are they, and never comes a child among them, nor do they laugh. They are squat in stature, and yet are strong, and their beards reach even to their toes, but the beards of the Indrafangs are the longest of all, and are forked, and they bind them about their middles when they walk abroad. All these creatures have Men called 'Dwarves', and say that their crafts and cunning surpass that of the Gnomes in marvellous contrivance, but of a truth there is little beauty in their works of themselves, for in those things of loveliness that they have wrought in ages past such renegade Gnomes as was Ufedhin have ever had a hand. Now long had that Gnome forsaken his folk, becoming leagued with the Dwarves of Nogrod, and was at that time come to the realms of Tinwelint with certain other Noldoli of like mind bearing swords and coats of mail and other smithyings of exquisite skill in which the Nauglath in those days did great traffic with the free Noldoli, and, 'tis said, with the Orcs and soldiers of Melko also. As he stood in that place the spell of the gold had pierced the heart of Ufedhin more deeply than the heart of any there, and he could not endure that it should all be cast away, and these were his words: "An evil deed is this that Tinwelint the king intends; or who hereafter shall say that the kindreds of the Eldalie love things

of beauty if a king of the Eldar cast so great a store of loveliness into the dark woodland waters where none but the fishes may after behold it? Rather than this should be, I beg of thee, 0 King, to suffer the craftsmen of the Dwarves to try their skill upon this unwrought gold, that the name of the golden treasury of Tinwelint become heard in all lands and places. This will they do, I promise thee, for small guerdon, might they but save the hoard from ruin." Then looked the king upon the gold and he looked upon Ufedhin, and that Gnome was clad very richly, having a tunic of golden web and a belt of gold set with tiny gems; and his sword was damasked in strange wise,'. but a collar of gold and silver interlaced most intricate was round his neck, and Tinwelint's raiment could in no wise compare with that of the wayfarer in his halls. Again looked Tinwelint upon the gold, and it shone yet more alluring fair, nor ever had the sparkle of the gems seemed so brilliant, and Ufedhin said again: "Or in what manner, 0 King, dost thou guard that Silmaril of which all the world hath heard?"

Now Gwenniel warded it in a casket of wood bound with iron, and Ufedhin said it was shame so to set a jewel that should not touch aught less worthy than the purest gold. Then was Tinwelint abashed, and yielded, and this was the agreement that he made with Ufedhin. Half the gold should the king measure and give to the hands of Ufedhin and his company, and they should bear it away to Nogrod and the dwellings of the Dwarves. Now those were a very long journey southward beyond the wide forest on the borders of those great heaths nigh Umboth-muilin the Pools of Twilight, on the marches of Tasarinan. Yet after but seven full moons back would the Nauglath fare bearing the king's loan all wrought to works of greatest cunning, yet in no wise would the weight and purity of the gold be minished. Then would they speak to Tinwelint, and an he liked not the handiwork then would they return and say no more; yet if it seemed good to him then of that which remained would they fashion such marvellous things for his adornment and for Gwenniel the Queen as never had Gnome or Dwarf made yet. "For," said Ufedhin, "the cunning of the Nauglath have I learnt, and the beauty of design that only can the Noldoli compass do I know -- yet shall the wages of our labour be small indeed, and we will name it before thee when all is done." Then by reason of the glamour of the gold the king repented his agreement with Ufedhin, and he liked not altogether his words, and he would not suffer so great a store of gold to be borne without surety out of his sight for seven moons to the distant dwellings of the Dwarves; yet was he minded nonetheless to profit by their skill. Therefore suddenly he let seize Ufedhin, and his folk, and he said unto them: "Here shall ye remain as hostages in my halls until I see again my treasury." Now Tinwelint thought in his heart that Ufedhin and his Gnomes were of the utmost service to the Dwarves, and no covetice would be strong enough to bring them to forsake him; but that Gnome was very wroth, saying: "The Nauglath are no thieves, 0 King, nor yet their friends"; but Tinwelint said: "Yet the light of overmuch gold has made many thieves, who were not so before," and Ufedhin perforce consented, yet he forgave not Tinwelint in his heart. Therefore was the gold now borne to Nogrod by folk of the king guided by one only of Ufedhin's companions, and the agreement of Ufedhin and Tinwelint spoken to Naugladur, the king of those places. Now during the time of waiting Ufedhin was kindly entreated

in the courts of Tinwelint, yet was he idle perforce, and he fretted inwardly. In his leisure he pondered ever what manner of lovely thing of gold and jewels he would after fashion for Tinwelint, but this was only for the greater ensnaring of the king, for already he began to weave dark plots most deep of avarice and revenge. On the very day of the fullness of the seventh moon thereafter the watchers on the king's bridge cried: "Lo! there comes a great company through the wood, and all it seems are aged men, and they bear very heavy burdens on their backs." But the king hearing said: "It is the Nauglath, who keep their tryst: now mayst thou go free, Ufedhin, and take my greeting to them, and lead them straightway to my hall"; and Ufedhin sallied forth gladly, but his heart forgot not its resentment. Therefore having speech privily with the Nauglath he prevailed upon them to demand at the end a very great reward, and one thereto that the king might not grant unhumbled; and more of his designs also did he unfold, whereby that gold might fare in the end to Nogrod for ever. Now come the Dwarves nonetheless over the bridge and before the chair of Tinwelint, and behold, the things of their workmanship they had conveyed thither in silken cloths, and boxes of rare woods carven cunningly. In other wise had Urin haled the treasure thither, and half thereof lay yet in his rude sacks and clumsy chests; yet when the gold was once more revealed, then did a cry of wonder arise, for the things the Nauglath had made were more wondrous far than the scanty vessels and the ornaments that the Rodothlim wrought of old. Cups and goblets did the king behold, and some had double bowls or curious handles interlaced, and horns there were of strange shape, dishes and trenchers, flagons and ewers, and all appurtenances of a kingly feast. Candlesticks there were and sconces for the torches, and none might count the rings and armlets, the bracelets and collars, and the coronets of gold; and all these were so subtly made and so cunningly adorned that Tinwelint was glad beyond the hope of Ufedhin. But as yet the designs of Ufedhin came to nought, for in no wise would Tinwelint suffer or him or those of the Nauglath to depart to Nogrod with or without that portion of the unwrought gold that yet remained, and he said: "How shall it be thought that after the weariness of your burdened journeys hither I should let you so soon be gone, to noise the lack of courtesy of Tinwelint abroad in Nogrod? Stay now awhile and rest and feast, and afterward shall ye have the gold that remains to work your pleasure on; nor shall aught of help that I or my folk may afford be wanting in your labour, and a reward rich and more than just awaits you at the end." But they knew nonetheless that they were prisoners, and trying the exits privily found them strongly warded. Being therefore without counsel they bowed before the king, and the faces of the Dwarf-folk show seldom what they think. Now after a time of rest was that last smithying begun in a deep place of Tinwelint's abode ' which he caused to be set apart for their uses, and what their hearts lacked therein fear supplied, and in all that work Ufedhin had a mighty part. A golden crown they made for Tinwelint, who yet had worn nought but a wreath of scarlet leaves, and a helm too most glorious they fashioned; and a sword of dwarven steel brought from afar was hilted with bright gold and damascened in gold and silver with strange figurings wherein was pictured clear the wolf-hunt of Karkaras Knife-fang, father of wolves. That was a more wonderful sword than any Tinwelint had seen before, and outshone the sword in Ufedhin's belt the king had coveted. These things were of Ufedhin's cunning, but the Dwarves made a coat of linked

mail of steel and gold for Tinwelint, and a belt of gold. Then was the king's heart gladdened, but they said: "All is not finished," and Ufedhin made a silver crown for Gwenniel, and aided by the Dwarves contrived slippers of silver crusted with diamonds, and the silver thereof was fashioned in delicate scales, so that it yielded as soft leather to the foot, and a girdle he made too of silver blended with pale gold. Yet were those things but a tithe of their works, and no tale tells a full count of them. Now when all was done and their smithcraft given to the king, then said Ufedhin: "0 Tinwelint, richest of kings, dost thou think these things fair?" And he said: "Yea"; but Ufedhin said: "Know then that great store of thy best and purest gold remaineth still, for we have husbanded it, having a boon to ask of thee, and it is this: we would make thee a carcanet and to its making lay all the skill and cunning that we have, and we desire that this should be the most marvellous ornament that the Earth has seen, and the greatest of the works of Elves and Dwarves. Therefore we beg of thee to let us have that Silmaril that thou treasurest, that it may shine wondrously amid the Nauglafring, the Necklace of the Dwarves." Then again did Tinwelint doubt Ufedhin's purpose, yet did he yield the boon, an they would suffer him to be present at that smithying. None are that yet live,' quoth Ailios,' 'who have seen that most glorious thing, save only' Littleheart son of Bronweg, yet are many things told thereof. Not only was it wrought with the greatest skill and subtlety in the world but it had a magic power, and there was,no throat so great or so slender whereon it sat not with grace and loveliness. Albeit a weight beyond belief of gold was used in the making, lightly it hung upon its wearer as a strand of flax; and all such as clasped it about their necks seemed, as it hung upon their breasts, to be of goodly countenance, and women seemed most fair. Gems uncounted were there in that carcanet of gold, yet only as a setting that did prepare for its great central glory, and led the eye thereto, for amidmost hung like a little lamp of limpid fire the Silmaril of Feanor, jewel of the Gods. Yet alas, even had that gold of the Rodothlim held no evil spell still had that carcanet been a thing of little luck, for the Dwarves were full of bitterness, and all its links were twined with baleful thoughts. Now however did they bear it before the king in its new-gleaming splendour; and then was the joy of Tinwelint king of the woodland Elves come to its crowning, and he cast the Nauglafring about his throat, and straightway the curse of Mim fell upon him. Then said Ufedhin: "Now, 0 Lord, that thou art pleased beyond thy hope, perchance thou wilt grant the craftsmen thy kingly reward, and suffer them to depart also in joy to their own lands." But Tinwelint, bewildered by the golden spell and the curse of Mim, liked not the memory of his tryst; yet dissembling he bid the craftsmen come before him, and he praised their handiwork with royal words. At length said he: "'Twas said to me by one Ufedhin that at the end such reward as ye wished ye would name before me, yet would it be small enough, seeing that the labour was of love and of Ufedhin's desire that the golden hoard be not cast away and lost. What then do ye wish that I may grant?" Then said Ufedhin scornfully: "For myself, nothing, 0 Lord; indeed the guestkindliness of thy halls for seven moons and three is more than I desire." But the Dwarves said-:-"This do we ask. For our labours during seven moons each seven jewels of Valinor, and seven robes of magic that only Gwendelin o can weave, and each a sack of gold; but for our great labour during three moons in thy halls unwilling, we ask each three sacks of silver, and each a

cup of gold wherein to pledge thy health, 0 King, and each a fair maiden of the woodland Elves to fare away with us to our homes." Then was King Tinwelint wroth indeed, for what the Dwarves had asked was of itself a goodly treasury, seeing that their

company was very great; and he had no mind thus to devour the dragon's hoard, but never could he deliver maidens of the Elves :- unto illshapen Dwarves without undying shame. Now that demand they had made only by the design of Ufedhin, yet seeing the anger of the king's face they said: "Nay, but this is not all, for in payment of Ufedhin's captivity for seven moons seven stout Elves must come with us and abide seven times seven years among us as bondsmen and menials in our labour." Thereat arose Tinwelint from his seat, and calling summoned his weaponed thanes and warriors, that these surrounded the Nauglath and those Gnomes. Then said he: "For your insolence each three stripes with stinging withes shall ye receive, and Ufedhin seven, and afterwards will we speak of recompense." When this was done, and a flame of bitter vengeance lit in those deep hearts, he said: "Lo, for your labour of seven months six pieces of gold and one of silver each shall have, and for your labours in my halls each three pieces of gold and some small gem that I can spare. For your journey hither a great feast shall ye eat and depart with good store against your return, and ere ye go ye shall drink to Tinwelint in elfin wine; yet, mark ye, for the sustenance of Ufedhin seven idle months about my halls shall ye each pay a piece of gold, and of silver two, for he has not aughth imself and shall not receive since he desires it not, yet methinks he is at the bottom of your arrogance." Then were the Dwarves paid their reward like common smiths of bronze and iron, and constrained to yield once more therefrom payment for Ufedhin -- "else," said the king, "never shall ye get him hence." Then sat they to a great feast and dissembled their mood; yet at the end the time of their going came, and they drank to Tinwelint in elfin wine, but they cursed him in their beards, and Ufedhin swallowed not and spat the wine from his mouth upon the threshold. Now tells the tale that the Nauglath fared home again, and if their greed had been kindled when first the gold was brought to Nogrod now was it a fierce flame of desire, and moreover they burnt under the insults of the king. Indeed all that folk love gold and silver more dearly than aught else on Earth, while that treasury was haunted by a spell and by no means were they armed against it. Now one there had been, Fangluin * the aged, who had Counselled them from the first never to return the king's loan, for (* In the margin of the manuscript is written: Fangluin: Bluebeard.) said he: "Ufedhin we may later seek by guile to release, if it seem good," but at that time this seemed not policy to Naugladur their lord, who desired not warfare with the Elves.Yet now did Fangluin jeer at them mightily on their return, saying they had flung away their labour for a botcher's wage and a draught of wine and gotten dishonour thereto, and he played upon their lust, and Ufedhin joined his bitter words thereto. Therefore did Naugladur hold a secret council of the Dwarves of Nogrod, and sought how he might both be avenged upon Tinwelint, and sate his Yet after long pondering he saw not how he might achieve his purpose save by force, and there was little hope therein, both by reason of the great strength of numbers of the Elves of Artanor in those days, and of the woven magic of Gwenniel that guarded all those regions, so that men of hostile heart were lost and came

not to those woods; nor indeed could any such come thither unaided by treachery from within. Now even as those aged ones sat in their dark halls and gnawed their beards, behold a sound of horns, and messengers were come from Bodruith of the Indrafangs, a kindred of the Dwarves that dwelt in other realms. Now these brought tidings of the death of Mim the fatherless at the hand of Urin and the rape of Glorund's gold, which tale had but new come to Bodruith's ears. Now hitherto the Dwarves knew not the full tale concerning that hoard, nor more than Ufedhin might tell hearing the speech in Tinwelint's halls, and Urin had not spoken the full count thereof ere he departed. Hearing therefore these tidings new wrath was added to their lust and a clamour arose among them, and Naugladur vowed to rest not ere Mim was thrice avenged -- "and, more," said he, "meseems the gold belongs of right to the people of the Dwarves." This then was the design; and by his deeds have the Dwarves been severed in feud for ever since those days with the Elves, and drawn more nigh in friendship to the kin of Melko. Secretly he let send to the Indrafangs that they prepare their host against a day that he would name, whenso the time should be ripe; and a hidden forging of bitter steel then was in Belegost the dwelling of the Indrafangs. Moreover he gathered about him a great host of the Orcs, and wandering goblins, promising them a good wage, and the pleasure of their Master moreover, and a rich booty at the end; and all these he armed with his own weapons. Now came unto Naugladur an Elf, and he was one of Tinwelint's folk, and he offered to lead that host through the magics of Gwendelin, for he was bitten by the gold-lust of Glorund's hoard, and so did the curse of Mim come upon Tinwelint and treachery first arose among the Elves of Artanor. Then did Naugladur [?smile] bitterly, for he knew that the time was ripe and Tinwelint delivered to him. Now each year about the time of the great wolf-hunt of Beren Tinwelint was wont to keep the memory of that day by a hunt in the woods, and it was a very mighty chase and thronged with very many folk, and nights of merriment and feasting were there in the forest. Now Naugladur learnt of that Elf Narthseg, whose name is bitter to the Eldar yet, that the king would fare a-hunting at the next high moon but one, and straightway he sent the trysted sign, a bloodstained knife, to Bodruith at Belegost. Now all that host assembled on the confines of the woods, and no word came yet unto the king. Now tells the tale that one came unto Tinwelint, and Tinwelint knew him not for the wild growth of his hair -- and lo! it was Mablung, and he said: "Lo, even in the depths of the forest have we heard that this year you will celebrate the death of Karkaras with a high-tide greater than even before, 0 King -- and behold Iha ve returned to bear you company." And the king was full ofmi rth and fain to greet Mablung the brave; and at the wordsof Mablung that Huan captain of Dogs was come also into Artanor was he glad indeed. Behold now Tinwelint the king rode forth a-hunting, and more glorious was his array than ever aforetime, and the helm of gold was above his flowing locks, and with gold were the trappings of his steed adorned; and the sunlight amid the trees fell upon his face, and it seemed to those that beheld it like to the glorious faceof the sun at morning; for about his throat was clasped the Nauglafring, the Necklace of the Dwarves. Beside him rode Mablung the Heavyhand in the place of honour by reason of his deeds at that great hunt aforetime -- but Huan of the Dogs was ahead of the hunters, and men thought that great dog bore him

strangely, but mayhap there was something in the wind that day liked not. Now is the king far in the woods with all his company, and the horns grow faint in the deep forest, but Gwendelin- sits in her bower and foreboding is in her heart and eyes. Then said an Elfmaid, Nielthi: "Wherefore, 0 Lady, art thou sorrowful at the hightide of the king?" And Gwendelin said: "Evil seeks our land, and my heart misgives me that my days in Artanor are speeding to

their end, yet if I should lose Tinwelint then would I wish never to have wandered forth from Valinor." But Nielthi said: "Nay, O Lady Gwendelin, hast thou not woven great magic all about us, so that we fear not?" But the queen made answer: "Yet meseems there is a rat that gnaws the threads and all the web has come unwoven.> Even at that word there was a cry about the doors, and suddenly it grew to a fierce noise... by the clash of steel. Then went Gwendelin unafraid forth from her bower, and behold, a sudden multitude of Orcs and Indrafangs held the bridge, and there was war within the cavernous gates; but that place ran with blood, and a great heap of slain lay there, for the onset had been secret and all unknown. Then did Gwendelin know well that her foreboding was true, and that treachery had found her realm at last, yet did she hearten those few guards that remained to her and had fared not to the hunt, and valiantly they warded the palace of the king until the tide of numbers bore them back [and] fire and blood found all the halls and deep ways of that great fortress of the Elves. Then did those Orcs and Dwarves ransack all the chambers seeking for treasure, and lo! one came and sate him in the high seat of the king laughing loud, and Gwendelin saw that it was Ufedhin, and mocking he bid her be seated in her ancient seat beside the king's. Then Gwendelin gazed upon him so that his glance fell, and she said: "Wherefore, 0 renegade, dost thou defile my lord's seat? Little had I thought to see any of the Elves sit there, a robber, stained with murder, a league-fellow of the truceless enemies of his kin. Or thinkest thou it is a glorious deed to assail an ill-armed house what time its lord is far away?" But Ufedhin said nought, shunning the bright eyes of Gwendelin, wherefore said she anew: "Get thee now gone with thy foul Orcs, lest Tinwelint coming repay thee bitterly." Then at last did Ufedhin answer, and he laughed, but ill at ease, and he looked not at the queen, but he said listening to a sound without: "Nay, but already is he come." And behold, Naugladur entered now and a host of the Dwarves were about him, but he bore the head of Tinwelint crowned and helmed in gold; but the necklace of all wonder was clasped about the throat of Naugladur. Then did Gwendelin see in her heart all that had befallen, and how the curse of the gold had fallen on the realm of Artanor, and never has she danced or sung since that dark hour; but Naugladur bid gather all things of gold or silver or of precious stones and bear them to Nogrod -- "and whatso remains of goods or folk may the, Orcs keep, or slay, as they desire. Yet the Lady Gwendelin Queen of Artanor shall fare with me." Then said Gwendelin: "Thief and murderer, child of Melko, yet art thou a fool, for thou canst not see what hangs over thine own head." By reason of the anguish of her heart was her sight grown very clear, and she read by her fay-wisdon the curse of Mim and much of what would yet betide. Then did Naugladur in his triumph laugh till his beard shook,

and bid seize her: but none might do so, for as they came towards her they groped as if in sudden dark, or stumbled and fell tripping each the other, and Gwendelin went forth from the places of her abode, and her bitter weeping filled the forest. Now did a great darkness fall upon her mind and her counsel and lore forsook her, at she wandered she knew not whither for a great while; and this was by reason of her love for Tinwelint the king, for whom she had chosen never to fare back to Valinor and the beauty of the Gods, dwelling always in the wild forests of the North; and now did there seem to her neither beauty nor joy be it in Valinor or in the Lands Without. Many of the scattered Elves in her wayward journeyings she met, and they took pity on her, but she heeded them not. Tales had they told her, but she hearkened not over much since Tinwelint was dead; nonetheless must ye know how even in the hour that Ufedhin's host brake the palace and despoiled it, and other companies as great and as terrible of the Orcs and Indrafangs fell with death and fire upon all the realm of Tinwelint, behold the brave hunt of the king were resting amid mirth and laughter, but Huan stalked apart. Then suddenly were the woods filled with noise and Huan bayed aloud; but the king and his company were all encircled with armed foes. Long they fought bitterly there among the trees, and the Nauglath -- for such were their foes -- had great scathe of them or ever they were slain. Yet in the end were they all fordone, and Mablung and the king fell side by side -- but Naugladur it was who swept off the head of Tinwelint after he was dead, for living he dared not so near to his bright sword or the axe of Mablung." Now doth the tale know no more to tell of Huan, save that even while the swords still sang that great dog was speeding through the land, and his way led him as the [?wind] to the land of i-Guilwarthon, the living-dead, where reigned Beren and Tinuviel the daughter of Tinwelint. Not in any settled abode did those twain dwell, nor had their realm boundaries well-marked -- and indeed no other messenger save Huan alone to whom all ways were known had ever found Beren and obtained his aid so soon." Indeed the tale tells that even as that host of the Orcs were burning all the land of Tinwelint and the Nauglath and the Indrafangin were wending homeward burdened utterly with spoils of gold and precious things, came Huan to Beren's lodge, and it was dusk. Lo, Beren sat upon a tree root and Tinuviel danced on a green sward in the gloaming as he gazed upon her, when suddenly stood Huan before them, and Beren gave a cry of joy and wonder, for it was long since he and Huan had hunted together, But Tinuviel looking upon Huan saw that he bled, and there was a tale to read in his great eyes. And she said suddenly: "What evil then has fallen upon Artanor?" and Huan said: "Fire and death and the terror of Orcs; but Tinwelint is slain." Then did both Beren and Tinuviel weep bitter tears; nor did the full tale of Huan dry their eyes. When then it was told to the end leapt Beren to his feet in white wrath, and seizing a horn that hung at his belt he blew a clear blast thereon that rang round all the neighbouring hills, and an elfin folk all clad in green and brown sprang as it were by magic towards him from every glade and coppice, stream and fell. Now not even Beren knew the tale of those myriad folk that followed his horn in the woods of Hisilome, and or ever the moon was high above the hills the host assembled in the glade of his abiding was very great, yet were they lightly armed and the most bore only knives and bows. "Yet," said Beren, "speed is that which now we need the most"; and certain Elves at his bidding fared like deer before him, seeking news of the march of the Dwarves and

Indrafangs, but at dawn he followed at the head of the green Elves, and Tinuviel abode in the glade and wept unto herself for the death of Tinwelint, and Gwendelin also she mourned as dead. Now is to tell that the laden host of the Dwarves fared from the place of their ransacking, and Naugladur was at their head, and beside him Ufedhin and Bodruith; and ever as he rode Ufedhin sought to put the dread eyes of Gwendelin from his mind and could not, and all happiness was fled from his heart that shrivelled under the memory of that glance; nor was this the only disquiet that tortured him, for if ever he raised his eyes lo! they lighted on the Necklace of the Dwarves shining about the aged neck of Naugladur, and then all other thoughts save bottomless desire of its beauty were banished. Thus did those three fare and with them all their host, but so great became the torment of Ufedhin's mind that in the end he

might not endure it more, but at night when a halt was called he crept stealthily to the place where Naugladur slept, and coming upon that aged one wrapt in slumbers would slay that Dwarf and lay hands upon the wondrous Nauglafring. Now even as he sought to do so, behold one seized his throat suddenly from behind, and it was Bodruith, who filled with the same lust sought also to make that lovely thing his own; but coming upon Ufedhin would slay him by reason of his kinship to Naugladur. Then did Ufedhin stab suddenly backward at hazard in the dark with a keen knife long and slender that he had with him for the bane of Naugladur, and that knife pierced the vitals of Bodruith Lord of Belegost so that he fell dying upon Naugladur, and the throat of Naugladur and the magic carcanet were drenched anew with blood. Thereat did Naugladur awake with a great cry, but Ufedhin fled gasping from that place, for the long fingers of the Indrafang had well-nigh choked him. Now when some bore torches swiftly to that place Naugladur thought that Bodruith alone had sought to rob him of the jewel, and marvelled how he had thus been timely slain, and he proclaimed a rich reward to the slayer of Bodruith if that man would come forward telling all that he had seen. Thus was it that none perceived the flight of Ufedhin for a while, and wrath awoke between the Dwarves of Nogrod and the Indrafangs, and many were slain ere the Indrafangs being in less number were scattered and got them as best they might to Belegost, bearing scant treasury with them. Of this came the agelong feud between those kindreds of the Dwarves that has spread to many lands and caused many a tale, whereof the Elves know little tidings and Men have seldom heard. Yet may it be seen how the curse of Mim came early home to rest among his own kin, and would indeed it had gone no further and had visited the Eldar never more. Lo, when the Aight of Ufedhin came also to light then was Naugladur in wrath, and he let kill all the Gnomes that remained in the host. Then said he: "Now are we rid of Indrafangs and Gnomes and all traitors, and nought more do I fear' at all." But Ufedhin ranged the wild lands in great fear and anguish, for him seemed that he had become a traitor to his kin, blood-guilty to the Elves, and haunted with the [? burning] eyes of Gwendelin the queen, for nought but exile and misery, and no smallest part nor share had he in the gold of Glorund, for all his heart was afire with : lust; yet few have pitied him. Now tells the tale that he fell in with the rangers of Beren's folk, and these gaining from him sure knowledge of all the host and array of Naugladur and the ways he purposed to follow, they sped

back like wind among the trees unto their lord; but Ufedhin revealed not to them who he was, feigning to be an Elf of Artanor escaped from bondage in their host. Now therefore they entreated him well, and he was sent back to Beren that their captain might ............ his words, and albeit Beren marvelled at his [?cowardly]......" and downward glance it seemed to him that he brought safe word, and he set a trap for Naugladur. No longer did he march hotly on the trail of the Dwarves, but knowing that they would essay the passage of the river Aros at a certain time he turned aside, faring swiftly with his light-footed Elves by straighter paths that he might reach Sarnathrod the Stony Ford before them. Now the Aros is a fierce stream -- and is it not that very water that more near its spring runs swiftly past the aged doors of the Rodothlim's caves and the dark lairs of Glorund' -- and in those lower regions by no means can be crossed by a great host of laden men save at this ford, nor is it overeasy here. Never would Naugladur have taken that way had he knowledge of Beren -- yet blinded by the spell and the dazzling gold he feared nought either within or without his host, and he was in haste to reach Nogrod and its dark caverns, for the Dwarves list not long to abide in the bright light of day. Now came all that host to the banks of Aros, and their array was thus: first a number of unladen Dwarves most fully armed, and amidmost the great company of those that bore the treasury of Glorund, and many a fair thing beside that they had haled from Tinwelint's halls; and behind these was Naugladur, and he bestrode Tinwelint's horse, and a strange figure did he seem, for the legs of the Dwarves are short and crooked, but two Dwarves led that horse for it went not willingly and it was laden with spoil. But behind these came again a mass of armed men but little laden; and in this array they sought to cross Sarnathrod on their day of doom. Morn was it when they reached the hither bank and high noon saw them yet passing in long-strung lines and wading slowly the shallow places of the swift-running stream. Here doth it widen out and fare down narrow channels filled with boulders atween long . spits of shingle and stones less great. Now did Naugladur slip from his burdened horse and prepare to get him over, for the armed host of the vanguard had climbed already the further bank, and it was great and sheer and thick with trees, and the bearers of the gold were some already stepped thereon and some amidmost of the stream, but the armed men of the rear were resting awhile. Suddenly is all that place filled with the sound of elfin horns, and one....." with a clearer blast above the rest, and it is the horn of Beren, the huntsman of the woods. Then is the air thick with the slender arrows of the Eldar that err not neither doth the wind bear them aside, and lo, from every tree and boulder do the brown Elves and the green spring suddenly and loose unceasingly from full quivers. Then was there a panic and a noise in the host of Naugladur, and those that waded in the ford cast their golden burdens in the waters and sought affrighted to either bank, but many were stricken with those pitiless darts and fell with their gold into the currents of the Aros, staining its clear waters with their dark blood. Now were the warriors on the far bank [? wrapped] in battle and rallying sought to come at their foes, but these fled nimbly before them, while [?others] poured still the hail of arrows upon them, and thus got the Eldar few hurts and the Dwarf-folk fell dead unceasingly. Now was that great fight of the Stony Ford...... nigh to Naugladur, for even though Naugladur and his captains led their bands stoutly never might they grip their foe, and death fell like rain upon their ranks until the most part broke and fled,

and a noise of clear laughter echoed from the Elves thereat, and they forebore to shoot more, for the illshapen figures of the Dwarves as they fled, their white beards tornby the wind, filled them [with] mirth. But now stood Naugladur and few were about him, and he remembered the words of Gwendelin, for behold, Beren came towards him and he cast aside his bow, and drew a bright sword; and Beren was of great stature among the Eldar, albeit not of the girth and breadth of Naugladur of the Dwarves. Then said Beren: "Ward thy life an thou canst, 0 crook-legged murderer, else will I take it," and Naugladur bid him even the Nauglafring, the necklace of wonder, that he be suffered to go unharmed; but Beren said: "Nay, that may I still take when thou art slain," and thereat he made alone upon Naugladur and his companions, and having slain the foremost of these the others fled away amid elfin laughter, and so Beren came upon Naugladur, slayer of Tinwelint. Then did that aged one defend himself doughtily, and 'twas a bitter fight, and many of the Elves that watched for love and fear of their captain fingered their bowstrings, but Beren called even as he fought that all should stay their hands. Now little doth the tale tell of wounds and blows of that affray, save that Beren got many hurts therein', and many of his shrewdest blows did little harm to Naugladur by reason of the [?skill] and magic of his dwarfen mail; and it is said that three hours they fought and Beren's arms grew weary, but not those of Naugladur accustomed to wield his mighty hammer at the forge, and it is more than like that otherwise would the issue have been but for the curse of Mim; for marking how Beren grew faint Naugladur pressed him ever more nearly, and the arrogance that was of that grievous spell came into his heart, and he thought: "I will slay this Elf, and his folk will flee in fear before me," and grasping his sword he dealt a mighty blow and cried: "Take here thy bane, 0 stripling of the woods," and in that moment his foot found a jagged stone and he stumbled forward, but Beren slipped aside from that blow and catching at his beard his hand found the carcanet of gold, and therewith he swung Naugladur suddenly off his feet upon his face: and Naugladur's sword was shaken from his grasp, but Beren seized it and slew him therewith, for he said: "I will not, sully my bright blade with thy dark blood, since there is no need." But the body of Naugladur was cast into the Aros. Then did he unloose the necklace, and he gazed in wonder at itand beheld the Silmaril, even the jewel he won from Angband and gained undying glory by his deed; and he said: "Never have mine eyes beheld thee O Lamp of Faery burn one half so fair as now thou dost, set in gold and gems and the magic of the Dwarves"; and that necklace he caused to be washed of its stains, and he cast it not away, knowing nought of its power, but bore it with him back into the woods of Hithlum. But the waters of Aros flowed on for ever above the drowned hoard of Glorund, and so do still, for in after days Dwarves came from Nogrod and sought for it, and for the body of Naugladur; but a flood arose from the mountains and therein the seekers Ford that none seek the treasure that it guards nor dare ever to cross the magic stream at that enchanted place. But in the vales of Hithlum was there gladness at the homecoming of the Elves, and great was the joy of Tinuviel to see her lord once more returning amidst his companies, but little did it ease her grief for the death of Tinwelint that Naugladur was slain and many Dwarves beside. Then did Beren seek to comfort her, and taking her in his arms he set the glorious Nauglafring

about her neck, and all were blinded by the greatness of her beauty; and Beren said: "Behold the Lamp of Feanor that thou and I did win from Hell," and Tinuviel smiled, remembering the first days of their love and those days of travail in the wild. Now is it to be said that Beren sent for Ufedhin and well rewarded him for his words of true guidance whereof the Dwarves had been overcome, and he bid him dwell in.... among his folk,an d Ufedhin was little loth; yet on a time, no great space thereafter, did that thing betide which he least desired. For came there a sound of very sorrowful singing in the woods, and behold, it was Gwendelin wandering distraught, and her feet bore her to the midmost of a glade where sat Beren and Tinuviel; and at that hour it was new morning, but at the sound all nigh ceased their speaking and were very still. Then did Beren gaze in awe upon Gwendelin, but Tinuviel cried suddenly in sorrow mixed with joy: "0 mother Gwendelin, whither do thy feet bear thee, for methought thee dead"; but the greeting of those twain upon the greensward was very sweet. And Ufedhin fled from among the Elves, for he could not endure to look upon the eyes of Gwendelin, and madness took him, and none may say what was his unhappy weird thereafter; and little but a tortured heart got he from the Gold of Glorund. Now hearing the cries of Ufedhin Gwendelin looked in wonder after him, and stayed her tender words; and memory came back into her eyes so that she cried as in amaze beholding the Necklace of the Dwarves that hung about the white throat of Tinuviel. Then wrathfully she asked of Beren what it might portend, and wherefore he suffered the accursed thing to touch Tinuviel; and told Beren" all that tale such as Huan had told him, in deed or guess, and of the pursuit and fighting at the ford he told also, saying at the end: "Nor indeed do I see who, now that Lord Tinwelint is fared to Valinor, should so fittingly wear that jewel of the Gods as Tinuviel." But Gwendelin told of the dragon's ban upon the gold and the [? staining] of blood in the king's halls, "and yet another and more potent curse, whose arising I know not, is woven therewith," said she, "nor methinks was the labour of the Dwarves free from spells of the most enduring malice." But Beren laughed, saying that the glory of the Silmaril and its holiness might overcome all such evils, even as it burnt the [? foul] flesh of Karkaras. "Nor," said he, "have I seen ever my Tinuviel so fair as now she is, clasped in the loveliness of this thing of gold"; but Gwendelin said: "Yet the Silmaril abode in the Crown of Melko, and that is the work of baleful smiths indeed." Then said Tinuviel that she desired not things of worth or precious stones but the elfin gladness of the forest, and to pleasure Gwendelin she cast it from her neck; but Beren was little pleased and he would not suffer it to be flung away, but warded it in his........." Thereafter did Gwendelin abide a while in the woods among them and was healed; and in the end she fared wistfully back to the land of Lorien and came never again into the tales of the dwellers of Earth; but upon Beren and Tinuviel fell swiftly that doom of mortality that Mandos had spoken when he sped them from his halls -- and in this perhaps did the curse of Mim have [? potency] in that it came more soon upon them; nor this time did those twain fare the road together, but when yet was the child of those twain, Dior" the Fair, a little one, did Tinuviel slowly fade, even as the Elves of later days have done throughout the world, and she vanished in the woods, and none have seen her dancing ever there again. But Beren searched all the lands of Hithlum and of Artanor ranging after her; and never has any of the Elves had more

loneliness than his, or ever he too faded from life, and Dior his son was left ruler of the brown Elves and the green, and Lord of the Nauglafring. Mayhap what all Elves say is true, that those twain hunt now in the forest of Orome in Valinor, and Tinuviel dances on the green swards of Nessa and of Vana daughters of the Gods for ever more; yet great was the grief of the Elves when the Guilwarthon went from among them, and being leaderless and lessened of magic their numbers minished; and many fared away to Gondolin, the rumour of whose growing power and glory ran in secret whispers among all the Elves. Still did Dior when come to manhood rule a numerous folk, and he loved the woods even as Beren had done; and songs name him mostly Ausir the Wealthy for his possession of that wondrous gem set in the Necklace of the Dwarves. Now the tales of Beren and Tinuviel grew dim in his heart, and he took to wearing it about his neck' and to love its loveliness most dearly; and the fame of that jewel spread like fire through all the regions of the North, and the Elves said one to another: "A Silmaril of Feanor burns in the" woods of Hisilome." Now fare the long days of Elfinesse unto that time when Tuor dwelt in Gondolin; and children then had Dior the Elf,' Auredhir and Elwing, and Auredhir was most like to his forefather Beren, and all loved him, yet none so dearly as did Dior; but Elwing the fairy have all poesies named as beautiful as Tinuviel if that indeed may be, yet hard is it to say seeing the great loveliness. of the elfin folk of yore. Now those were days of happiness in the vales of Hithlum, for there was peace with Melko and the Dwarves who had but one thought as they plotted against Gondolin, and Angband was full of labour; yet is it to tell that bitterness entered into the hearts of the seven sons of Feanor, remembering their oath. Now Maidros, whom Melko maimed, was their leader; and he called to his brethren Maglor and Dinithel, and to Damrod, and to Celegorm, to Cranthor and to Curufin the Crafty, and he said to them how it was now known to him that a Silmaril of those their father Feanor had made was now the pride and glory of Dior of the southern vales, "and Elwing his daughter bears it whitherso she goes -- but do you not forget," said he, "that we swore to have no peace with Melko nor any of his folk, nor with any other of Earth-dwellers that held the Silmarils of Feanor from us. For what," said Maidros, "do we suffer exile and wandering and rule over a scant and forgotten folk, if others gather to their hoard the heirlooms that are ours?" Thus was it that they sent Curufin the Crafty to Dior, and told him of their oath, and bid him give that fair jewel back unto those whose right it was; but Dior gazing on the loveliness of Elwing would not do so, and he said that he could not endure that the Nauglafring, fairest of earthly craft, be so despoiled. "Then," said Curufin, "must the Nauglafring unbroken be given to the sons of Feanor," and Dior waxed wroth, bidding him be gone, nor dare to claim what his sire Beren the Onehanded won with his hand from the [?jaws] of Melko -- "other twain are there in the selfsame place," said he, "an your hearts be bold enow." Then went Curufin unto his brethren, and because of their unbreakable oath and of their [? thirst] for that Silmaril (nor indeed was the spell of Mim and of the dragon wanting) they planned war upon Dior -- and the Eldar cry shame upon them for that deed, the first premeditated war of elfin folk upon elfin folk, whose name otherwise were glorious among the Eldalie for their sufferings. Little good came thereby to them; for they fell unawares upon Dior, and Dior and Auredhir were slain, yet

behold, Evranin the nurse of Elwing, and Gereth a Gnome-, took her unwilling in a flight swift and sudden from those lands, and they bore with them the Nauglafring, so that the sons of Feanor saw it not; but a host of Dior's folk, coming with all speed yet late unto the fray, fell suddenly on their rear, and there was a great battle, and Maglor was slain with swords, and Mai....~ died of wounds in the wild, and Celegorm was pierced with a hundred

arrows, and Cranthor beside him. Yet in the end were the sons of Feanor masters of the field of slain, and the brown Elves and the green were scattered over all the lands unhappy, for they would not hearken to Maidros the maimed, nor to Curufin and Damrod who had slain their lord; and it is said that even on the day of that battle of the Elves Melko sought against Gondolin, and the fortunes of the Elves came to their uttermost waning. Now was naught left of the seed of Beren Ermabwed son of Egnor save Elwing the Lovely, and she wandered in the woods, and of the brown Elves and the green a few gathered to her, and they departed for ever from the glades of Hithlum and got them to the south towards Sirion's deep waters, and the pleasant lands. And thus did all the fates of the fairies weave then to one strand, and that strand is the great tale of Earendel; and to that tale's true beginning are we now come.' Then said Ailios: 'And methinks that is tale enow for this time of telling.' NOTES. 1. This sentence is a rewriting of the text, which had originally: "Nay then, know ye not that this gold belongs to the kindred of the Elves, who won it from the earth long time ago, and no one among Men has claim..." The remainder of this scene, ending with the slaughter of Urin's band, was rewritten at many points, with the same object as in the passage just cited -- to convert Urin's band from Men to Elves, as was done also at the end of Eltas' t ale( see p. 118 note 33). Thus original 'Elves' waschanged to 'Elves of the wood, woodland Elves', and original 'Men' to 'folk, outlaws'; and see notes 2, 3, 5. 2. The original sentence here was: Doughty were those Men and great wielders of sword and axe, and still in those unfaded days might mortal weapons wound the bodies of the elfin-folk. See note t. 3. The original sentence here was: 'and those Men being wildered with magics'. See note 1. 4. This sentence, from 'and yet another sorrow...', was added to the text later. 5. 'those': the text has 'the Men', obviously left unchanged through oversight. See note 1.

6. 'in the earth' is an emendation of the original reading 'on the earth'.7. 'damasked in strange wise', i.e. 'damascened', ornamentally inlaid with designs in gold and silver. The word 'damascened' is used of the sword of Tinwelint made by the Dwarves, on which were seen images of the wolf-hunt (p. 227), and of Glorfindel's arms (p. 173). 8. The text has 'Eltas', but with 'Ailios' written above in pencil. Since Ailios appears as the teller at the beginning of the tale, and not as the result of emendation, 'Eltas' here was probably no more than a slip. 9. 'save only' is a later emendation of the original 'not even'. See p. 256. 10. It is odd that Gwendelin appears here, not Gwenniel as hitherto in this tale. Since the first part of the tale is in ink over an erased pencil text, the obvious explanation is that the erased text had Gwendelin

and that my father changed this to Gwenniel as he went along, overlooking it in this one instance. But the matter is probably more complex -- one of those small puzzles with which the texts of the Last Tales abound -- for after the manuscript in ink ceases the form Gwenniel occurs, though once only, and Gwendelin is then used for all the rest of the tale. See Changes made to Names, p. 244.11. Here the manuscript in ink ends; see p. 221.12. Against this sentence my father wrote a direction that the story was to be that the Nauglafring caught in the bushes and held the king. 13. A rejected passage in the manuscript here gives an earlier version of the events, according to which it was Gwendelin, not Huan, who brought the news to Beren: ... and her bitter weeping filled the forest. Now there did Gwendeling [sic] gather to her many of the scattered woodland Elves and of them did she hear how matters had fared even as she had guessed: how the hunting party had been surrounded and o'erwhelmed by the Nauglath while the Indrafangs and Orcs fell suddenly with death and fire upon all the realm of Tinwelint, and not the least host was that of Ufedhin that slew the guardians of the bridge; and it was said that Naugladur had slain Tinwelint when he was borne down by numbers, and folk thought Narthseg a wild Elf had led the foemen hither, and he had been slain in the fighting. Then seeing no hope Gwendelin and her companions fared with the utmost speed out of that land of sorrow, even to the kingdom of i- Guilwarthon in Hisilome, where reigned Beren and Tinuviel her daughter. Now Beren and Tinuviel lived not in any settled abode, nor had their realm boundaries well-marked, and no other messenger save Gwendelin daughter of the Vali had of a surety found those twain the living-dead so soon. It is clear from the manuscript that the return of Mablung and Huan to Artanor and their presence at the hunt (referred to in general terms at the end of the Tale of Tinuviel, p. 41) was added to the

14. 15. 16. 17. 18. 19. 20. 21. tale, and with this new element went the change in Gwendelin's movements immediately after the disaster. But though the textual history is here extremely hard to interpet, what with erasures and j additions on loose pages, I think it is almost certain that this reshaping was done while the original composition 0f the tale was still in progress. The first of these lacunae that I have left in the text contains two words, the first possibly 'believe' and the second probably 'best'. In the second lacuna the word might conceivably be 'pallor'. This sentence, from 'and is it not that very water...', is struck through and bracketed, and in the margin my father scribbled: 'No [?that] is Narog.' The illegible word might be 'brays': the word 'clearer' is an emendation from 'hoarser'. 'and told Beren': i.e., 'and Beren told'. The text as first written had 'Then told Beren...' The illegible word might just possibly be 'treasury', but I do not think that it is.

Dior replaced the name Ausir, which however occurs below as another name for Dior. 'Dior the Elf' is an emendation from 'Dior then an aged Elf'. The latter part of this name is quite unclear: it might be read as Maithog, or as Mailweg. See Changes made to Names under Dinithel. Changes made to names in The Tale of the Nauglafring. Ilfiniol (p. 221) here so written from the first: see p. 201. Gwenniel is used throughout the revised section of the tale except at the last occurrence (p. 228), where the form is Gwendelin; in the pencilled part of the tale at the first occurrence of the queen's name it is again Gwenniel (p. 230), but thereafter always Gwendelin (see note 10). The name of the queen in the Lost Tales is as variable as that of Littleheart. In The Chaining of Melko and The Coming of the Elves she is Tindriel > Wendelin. In the Tale of Tinuviel she is Wendelin > Cwendeling (see p. 50); in the typescript text of Tinuviel Gwenethlin > Melian; in the Tale of Turambar Gwendeling > Gwedheling; in the present tale Cwendelin/Gwenniel (the form Gwendeling occurs in the rejected passage given in note 13); and in the Gnomish dictionary Cwendeling > Cwedhiling. Belegost At the first occurrence (p. 230) the manuscript has Ost Belegost, with Ost circled as if for rejection, and Belegost is the reading subsequently. (i-)Cuilwarthon In the Tale of Tinuviel, p. 41, the form is i-Cuilwarthon. At the occurrence on p. 240 the ending of the name does not look like -on, but as I cannot say what it is I give Guilwarthon in the text. Dinithel could also be read as Durithel (p. 241). This name was written in later in ink over an earlier name in pencil now scarcely legible, though clearly the same as that beginning Mai.... which appears for this son of Feanor subsequently (see note 21). Commentary on The Tale of the Nauglafring. In this commentary I shall not compare in detail the Tale of the Nauglafring with the story told in The Silmarillion (Chapter 22, Of the Ruin of Doriath). The stories are profoundly different in essential features -- above all, in the reduction of the treasure brought by Hurin from Nargothrond to a single object, the Necklace of the Dwarves, which had long been in existence (though not, of course, containing the Silmaril); while the whole history of the relation between Thingol and the Dwarves is changed. My father never again wrote any part of this story on a remotely comparable scale, and the formation of the published text was here of the utmost difficulty; I hope later to give an account of it. While it is often difficult to differentiate what my father omitted in his more concise versions (in order to keep them concise) from what he rejected, it seems clear that a large part of the elaborate narrative of the Tale of the Nauglafring was early abandoned. In subsequent writing the story of the fighting between Urin's band and Tinwelint's Elves disappeared, and there is no trace afterwards of Ufedhin or the other Gnomes that lived among the Dwarves, of the story that the Dwarves took half the unwrought gold ('the king's loan') away to Nogrod to make precious objects from it, of the keeping of Ufedhin hostage, of Tinwelint's refusal to let the Dwarves depart, of their outrageous demands, of their scourging and their insulting payment. We meet here again the strong emphasis on Tinwelint's love of treasure and lack of it, in contrast to the later conception of his vast wealth (see my remarks, pp. 128-9). The Silmaril is kept in a wooden casket (p. 225), Tinwelint has no crown but a wreath of scarlet leaves (p. 227), and he

is far less richly clad and accoutred than 'the wayfarer in his halls' (Ufedhin). This is very well in itself -- the Woodland Elf corrupted by the lure of golden splendour, but it need not be remarked again how strangely at variance is this picture with that of Thingol Lord of Beleriand, who had a vast treasury in his marvellous underground realm of Menegroth, the Thousand Caves -- itself largely contrived by the Dwarves of Belegost in the distant past (?he Silmarillion pp. 92-3), and who most certainly did not need the aid of Dwarves at this time to make

him a crown and a fine sword, or vessels to adorn his banquets. Thingol in the later conception is proud, and stern; he is also wise, and powerful, and greatly increased in stature and in knowledge through his union with a Maia. Could such a king have sunk to the level of miserly swindling that is portrayed in the Tale of the Nauglafring? Great stress is indeed placed on the enormous size of the hoard -- 'such mighty heaps of gold have never since been gathered in one place', p. 223 -- which is made so vast that it becomes hard to believe that a band of wandering outlaws could have brought it to the halls of the woodland Elves, even granting that 'some was lost upon the way' (p. 114). There is perhaps some difference here from the account of the Rodothlim and their works in the Tale of Turambar (p. 81), where there is certainly no suggestion that the Rodothlim possessed treasures coming out of Valinor -- though this idea remained through all the vicissitudes of this part of the story: it is said of the Lord of Nargothrond in The Silmarillion (p. 114) that 'Finrod had brought more treasures out of Tirion than any other of the princes of the Noldor'. More important, the elements of 'spell' and 'curse' are dominant in this tale, to such a degree that they might almost be said to be the chief actors in it. The curse of Mim on the gold is felt at every turn of the narrative. Vengeance for him is one motive in Naugladur's decision to attack the Elves of Artanor (p. 230). His curse is fulfilled in the 'agelong feud' between the kindreds of the Dwarves (p. 235) -- of which all trace was afterwards effaced, with the loss of the entire story of Ufedhin's intent to steal the Necklace from Naugladur sleeping, the killing of Bodruith Lord of Belegost, and the fighting between the two clans of Dwarves. Naugladur was 'blinded by the spell' in taking so imprudent a course out of Artanor (p. 236); and the curse of Mim is made the 'cause' of his stumbling on a stone in his fight with Beren (p. 238). It is even, and most surprisingly, suggested as a reason for the short second lives of Beren and Tinuviel (p. 240); and finally 'the spell of Mim' is an element in the attack on Dior by the Feanorians (p. 241). An important element also in the tale is the baleful nature of the Nauglafring, for the Dwarves made it with bitterness; and into the complex of curses and spells is introduced also 'the dragon's ban upon the gold' (p. 239) or 'the spell of the dragon' (p. 241). It is not said in the Tale of Turambar that Glorund had cursed the gold or enspelled it; but Mim said to Urin (p. 114): 'Has not Glorund lain long years upon it, and the evil of the drakes of Melko is on it, and no good can it bring to Man or Elf.' Most notably, Gwendelin implies, against Beren's assertion that 'its holiness might overcome all such evils', that the Silmaril itself is unhallowed, since it 'abode in the Crown of Melko' (p. 239). In the later of the two 'schemes' for the Lost Tales (see I. 107 note 3) it is said that the Nauglafring 'brought sickness to Tinuviel'.* * It is said in the Gnomish dictionary that the curse of Mim was 'appeased' when the Nauglafring was lost in the sea; see the Appendix on Names, entry Nauglafring.) But however much the chief actors in this tale are 'enspelled' or blindly carrying forward the mysterious dictates of a curse, there is no question but that the Dwarves in the original conception were altogether more ignoble than they afterwards became, more prone to evil to gain their ends, and more exclusively impelled by greed; that Doriath should

be laid waste by mercenary Orcs under Dwarvish paymasters (p. 230) was to become incredible and impossible later. It is even said that by the deeds of Naugladur 'have the Dwarves been severed in feud for ever since those days with the Elves, and drawn more nigh in friendship to the kin of Melko' (p. 230); and in the outlines for Gilfanon's Tale the Nauglath are an evil people, associates of goblins (I. 236 -- 7). In a rejected outline for the Tale of the Nauglafring (p. 136) the Necklace was made 'by certain Uvanimor (Nautar or Nauglath)', Uvanimor being defined elsewhere as 'monsters, giants, and ogres'. With all this compare The Lord of the Rings, Appendix F (I): 'They [the Dwarves] are not evil by nature, and few ever served the Enemy of free will, whatever the tales of Men may have alleged.' The account of the Dwarves in this tale is of exceptional interest in other respects. 'The beards of the Indrafangs' have been named in Tinuviel's 'lengthening spell' (pp. 19, 46); but this is the first description of the Dwarves in my father's writings -- already with the spelling that he maintained against the unceasing opposition of proof-readers -- and they are eminently recognisable in their dour and hidden natures, in their 'unloveliness' (The Silmarillion p. x 113), and in their 'marvellous skill with metals' (ibid. p. 92). The strange statement that 'never comes a child among them' is perhaps to be related to 'the foolish opinion among Men' referred to in The Lord of the Rings, Appendix A (III), 'that there are no Dwarf-women, and that the Dwarves "grow out of stone".' In the same place it is said that 'it is because of the fewness of women among them that the kind of the Dwarves increases slowly'. It is also said in the tale that it is thought by some that the Dwarves 'have not heard of Iluvatar'; on knowledge of Iluvatar among Men see p. 209. According to the Gnomish dictionary Indrafang was 'a special name of the Longbeards or Dwarves', but in the tale it is made quite plain that the Longbeards were on the contrary the Dwarves of Belegost; the Dwarves of Nogrod were the Nauglath, with their king Naugladur. It must be admitted however that-the use of the terms is sometimes confusing, or confused: thus the description of the Nauglath on pp. 223 -- 4 seems to be a description of all Dwarves, and to include the Indrafangs, though this cannot have been intended. The reference to 'the march of the Dwarves and Indrafangs' (p. 234) must be taken as an ellipse, i.e. 'the Dwarves of Nogrod and the Indrafangs'. Naugladur of Nogrod and Bodruith of Belegost are said to have been akin (p. 235), though this perhaps only means that they were both Dwarves whereas Ufedhin was an Elf.

The Dwarf-city of Nogrod is said in the tale to lie 'a very long journey southward beyond the wide forest on the borders of those great heaths nigh Umboth-muilin the Pools of Twilight, on the marches of Tasarinan' (p. 225). This could be interpreted to mean that Nogrod was itself 'on the borders of those great heaths nigh Umboth-muilin'; but I think that this is out of the question. It would be a most improbable place for Dwarves, who 'dwell beneath the earth in caves and tunnel)ed towns, and aforetime Nogrod was the mightiest of these' (p. 224). Though mountains are not specifically mentioned here in connection with Dwarves, I think it extremely likely that my father at this time conceived their cities to be in the mountains, as they were afterwards. Further, there seems nothing to contradict the view that the configuration of the lands in the Lost Tales was essentially similar to that of the earliest and later 'Silmarillion' maps; and on them, 'a very long journey southward' is totally inappropriate to that between the Thousand Caves and the Pools of Twilight. The meaning must therefore be, simply, 'a very long journey southward beyond the wide forest', and what follows places the wide forest, not Nogrod; the forest being, in fact, the Forest of Artanor. The Pools of Twilight are described in The Fall of Condolin, but the

Elvish name does not there appear (see pp. 195 -- 6, 217). Whether Belegost was near to or far from Nogrod is not made plain; it is said in this passage that the gold should be borne away 'to Nogrod and the dwellings of the Dwarves', but later (p. 230) the Indrafangs are 'a kindred of the Dwarves that dwelt in other realms'. In his association with the Dwarves Ufedhin is reminiscent of Eol, Maeglin's father, of whom it is said in The Silmarillion (p. 133) that 'for the Dwarves he had more liking than any other of the Elvenfolk of old', cf. ibid. p. 92: 'Few of the Eldar went ever to Nogrod or Belegost, save Eol of Nan Elmoth and Maeglin his son.' In the early forms of the story of Eol and Isfin (referred to in The Fall of Condolin, p. 165) Eol has no association with Dwarves. In the present tale there is mention (p. 224) of 'great traffic' carried on by the Dwarves 'with the free Noldoli' (with Melko's servants also) in those days: we may wonder who these free Noldoli were, since the Rodothlim had been destroyed, and Gondolin was hidden. Perhaps the sons of Feanor are meant, or Egnor Beren's father (see p. 65). The idea that it was the Dwarves of Nogrod who were primarily involved survived into the later narrative, but they became exclusively so, and those of Belegost specifically denied all aid to them (?he Silmarillion p. 233). Turning now to the Elves, Beren is here of course still an Elf (see p. 139), and in his second span of life he is the ruler, in Hithlum -Hisilome, of an Elvish people so numerous that 'not even Beren knew the tale of those myriad folk' (p. 234); they are called 'the green Elves' and 'the brown Elves and the green', for they were 'clad in green and brown',

and Dior ruled them in Hithlum after the final departure of Beren and Tinuviel. Who were they? It is far from clear how they are to be set into the conception of the Elves of the Great Lands as it appears in other Tales. We may compare the passage in The Coming of the Elves (I. 118 -- 19): Long after the joy of Valinor had washed its memory faint [i.e., the memory of the journey through Hisilome] the Elves sang still sadly of it, and told tales of many of their folk whom they said and say were lost in those old forests and ever wandered there in sorrow. Still were they there long after when Men were shut in Hisilome by Melko, and still do they dance there when Men have wandered far over the lighter places of the Earth. Hisilome did Men name Aryador, and the Lost Elves did they call the Shadow Folk, and feared them. But in that tale the conception still was that Tinwelint ruled 'the scattered Elves of Hisilome', and in the outlines for Gilfanon's Tale the 'Shadow Folk' of Hisilome had ceased to be Elves (see p. 64). In any case, the expression 'green Elves', coupled with the fact that it was the Greenelves of Ossiriand whom Beren led to the ambush of the Dwarves at Sarn Athrad in the later story (The Silmarillion p. 235), shows which Elvish people they were to become, even though there is as yet no trace of Ossiriand beyond the river Gelion and the story of the origin of the Laiquendi (ibid. pp.94, 96). It was inevitable that 'the land of the dead that live' should cease to be in Hisilome (which seems to have been in danger of having too many inhabitants), and a note on the manuscript of the Tale of the Nauglafring says: 'Beren must be in "Doriath beyond Sirion" on a..... not in Hithlum.' Doriath beyond Sirion was the region called in The Silmarillion (p. 122) Nivrim, the West March, the woods on the west bank of the river between the confluence of Teiglin and Sirion and Aelin-uial, the Meres of Twilight. In the Tale of Tinuviel Beren and Tinuviel, called i Cuilwarthon, 'became mighty fairies in the lands about the north of Sirion' (p. 41). Gwendelin/Gwenniel appears a somewhat faint and ineffective figure by comparison with the Melian of The Silmarillion. Conceivably, an

aspect of this is the far slighter protection afforded to the realm of Artanor by her magic than that of the impenetrable wall and deluding mazes of the Girdle of Melian (see p. 63). But the nature of the protection in the old conception is very unclear. In the Tale of the Nauglafring the coming of the Dwarves from Nogrod is only known when they approach the bridge before Tinwelint's caves (p. 226); on the other hand, it is said (p. 230) that the 'woven magic' of the queen was a defence against 'men of hostile heart', who could never make their way through the woods unless aided by treachery from within. Perhaps this provides an explanation of a sort of how the Dwarves bringing treasure from Nogrod were able to penetrate to the halls of Tinwelint without hindrance and apparently undetected (cf. also the coming of Urin's band in the Tale of Turambar, p. 114). In the event, the protective magic was easily -- too easily -overthrown by the simple device of a single treacherous Elf of Artanor who 'offered to lead the host through the magics of Gwendelin'. This was evidently unsatisfactory; but I shall not enter further into this question here. Extraordinary difficulties of narrative structure were caused by this element of the inviolability of Doriath, as I hope to describe at a future date. It might be thought that the story of the drowning of the treasure at the Stony Ford (falling into the waters of the river with the Dwarves who bore it) was evolved from that in the rejected conclusion of the Tale of Turambar (p. 136) -- Tinwelint 'hearing that curse [set on the treasure by Urin] caused the gold to be cast into a deep pool of the river before his doors'. In the Taleof the Nauglafring, however, Tinwelint, influenced by the queen's foreboding words, still has the intention of doing this, but does not fulfil his intention (p. 223). The account of the second departure of Beren and Tinuviel (p. 240) raises again the extremely difficult question of the peculiar fate that was decreed for them by the edict of Mandos, which I have discussed on pp. 59 -- 60. There I have suggested that the peculiar dispensation of Mandos in the case of Beren and Tinuviel as here conceived is therefore that their whole 'natural' destiny as Elves was changed: having died as Elves might die (from wounds or from grief) they were not reborn as new beings, but returned in their own persons- yet now 'mortal even as Men'. Here however Tinuviel 'faded', and vanished in the woods; and Beren searched all Hithlum and Artanor for her, until he too 'faded from life'. Since this fading is here quite explicitly the mode in which 'that doom of mortality that Mandos had spoken' came upon them (p. 240), it is very notable that it is likened to, and even it seems identified with, the fading of 'the Elves of later days throughout the world' -- as though in the original idea Elvish fading was a form of mortality. This is in fact made explicit in a later version. The seven Sons of Feanor, their oath (sworn not in Valinor but after the coming of the Noldoli to the Great Lands), and the maiming of Maidros appear in the outlines for Gilfanon's Tale; and in the latest of these outlines the Feanorians are placed in Dor Lomin (= Hisilome, Hithlum), see I. 238, 240, 243. Here, in the Tale of the Nauglafring, appear for the first time the names of the Sons of Feanor, five of them (Maidros, Maglor, Celegorm, Cranthor, Curufin) in the forms, or almost the forms, they were to retain, and Curufin already with his sobriquet 'the Crafty'. The names Amrod and Amras in The Silmarillion were a late change; for long these two sons of Feanor were Damrod (as here) and Diriel (here Dinithel or Durithel, see Changes made to Names, p. 245) Here also appear Dior the Fair, also called Ausir the Wealthy, and his daughter Elwing; his son Auredhir early disappeared in the development of the legends. But Dior ruled in 'the southern vales' (p. 241) of Hisilome, not in Artanor, and there is no suggestion of any renewal of

Tinwelint's kingdom after his death, in contrast to what was told later (The Silmarillion p. 236); moreover the Feanorians, as noted above, dwelt also in Hisilome -- and how all this is to be related to what is said elsewhere of the inhabitants of that region I am unable to say: cf. the Tale of Tinuviel, p. 10: 'Hisilome where dwelt Men, and thrall-Noldoli laboured, and few free-Eldar went.' A very curious statement is made in this concluding part of the tale, that 'those were days of happiness in the vales of Hithlum, for there was peace with Melko and the Dwarves who had but one thought as they plotted against Gondolin' (p. 241). Presumably 'peace with Melko' means no more than that Melko had averted his attention from those lands; but nowhere else is there any reference to the Dwarves' plotting against Gondolin. In the typescript version of the Tale of Tinuviel (p. 43) it is said that if Turgon King of Gondolin was the most glorious of the kings of the Elves who defied Melko, 'for a while the most mighty and the longest free was Thingol of the Woods'. The most natural interpretation of this expression is surely that Gondolin fell before Artanor; whereas in The Silmarillion (p. 240) 'Tidings were brought by Thorondor Lord of Eagles of the fall of Nargothrond, and after of the slaying of Thingol and of Dior his heir, and of the ruin of Doriath; but Turgon shut his ear to word of the woes without.' In the present tale we see the same chronology, in that many of the Elves who followed Beren went after his departure to Gondolin, 'the rumour of whose growing power and glory ran in secret whispers among all the Elves' (p. 240), though here the destruction of Gondolin is said to have taken place on the very day that Dior was attacked by the Sons of Feanor (p. 242). To evade the discrepancy therefore we must interpret the passage in the Tale of Tinuviel to mean that Thingol remained free for a longer period of years than did Turgon, irrespective of the dates of their downfalls. Lastly, the statements that Cum an-Idrisaith, the Mound of Avarice, 'stands there still in Artanor' (p. 223), and that the waters of Aros still flow above the drowned hoard (p. 238), are noteworthy as indications that nothing analogous to the Drowning of Beleriand was present in the original conception.

V. THE TALE OF EARENDEL. The 'true beginning' of the Tale of Earendel was to be the dwelling at Sirion's mouth of the Lothlim (the point at which The Fall of Gondolin ends: 'and fair among the Lothlim Earendel grows in the house of his father', pp. 196 -- 7) and the coming there of Elwing (the point at which the Tale of the Nauglafring ends: 'they departed for ever from the glades of Hithlum and got them to the south towards Sirion's deep waters, and the pleasant lands. And thus did all the fates of the fairies weave then to one strand, and that strand is the great tale of Earendel; and to that tale's true beginning are we now come', p. 242). The matter is complicated, however, as will be seen in a moment, by my father's also making the Nauglafring the first part of the Tale of Earendel. But the great tale was never written; and for the story as he then conceived it we are wholly dependent on highly condensed and often contradictory outlines. There are also many isolated notes; and there are the very early Earendel poems. While the poems can be precisely dated, the notes and outlines can not; and it does not seem possible to arrange them in order so as to provide a clear line of development. One of the outlines for the Tale of Earendel is the earlier of the two 'schemes' for the Lost Tales which are the chief materials for Gilfanon's Tale; and I will repeat here what I said of this in the first part (I. 233): There is no doubt that [the earlier of the two schemes] was composed when the last Tales had reached their furthest point of development, as represented by the latest texts and arrangements given in this book.

Now when this outline comes to the matter of Gilfanon's Tale it becomes at once very much fuller, but then contracts again to cursory references for the tales of Tinuviel, Turin, Tuor; and the Necklace of the Dwarves, and once more becomes fuller for the tale of Earendel. This scheme B (as I will continue to call it) provides a coherent if very rough narrative plan, and divides the story into seven parts, of which the first (marked 'Told') is 'The Nauglafring down to the flight of Elwing'. This sevenfold division is referred to by Littleheart at the beginning of The Fall of Gondolin (p. 144): It is a mighty tale, and seven times shall folk fare to the Tale-fire ere it be rightly told; and so twined is it with those stories of the Nauglafring and of the Elf-march that I would fain have aid in that telling...

If the six parts following the Tale of the Nauglafring were each to be of comparable length, the whole Tale of Earendel would have been somewhere near half the length of all the tales that were in fact written; but my father never afterwards returned to it on any ample scale. I give now the concluding part of Scheme B. Tale of Earendel begins, with which is interwoven the Nauglafring and the March of the Elves. For further details see Notebook C.* First part. The tale of the Nauglafring down to the flight of Elwing. Second part. The dwelling at Sirion. Coming thither of Elwing, and the love of her and Earendel as girl and boy. Ageing of Tuor -- his secret sailing after the conches of Ulmo in Swanwing. Earendel sets sail to the North to find Tuor, and if needs be Mandos. Sails in Earame. Wrecked. Ulmo appears. Saves him, bidding him sail to Kor -- 'for for this hast thou been brought out of the Wrack of Gondolin'. Third part. Second attempt of Earendel to Mandos. Wreck of Falasquil and rescue by the Oarni.~ He sights the Isle of Seabirds 'whither do all the birds of all waters come at whiles'. Goes back by land to Sirion. Idril has vanished (she set sail at night). The conches of Ulmo call Earendel. Last farewell of Elwing. Building of Wingilot. Fourth part. Earendel sails for Valinor. His many wanderings, occupying several years. Fifth part. Coming of the birds of Gondolin to Kor with tidings. Uproar of the Elves. Councils of the Gods. March of the Inwir (death of Inwe), Teleri, and Solosimpi. Raid upon Sirion and captivity of Elwing. Sorrow and wrath of Gods, and a veil dropped between Valmar and Kor, for the Gods will not destroy it but cannot bear to look upon it. Coming of the Eldar. Binding of Melko. Faring to Lonely Isle. Curse of the Nauglafring and death of Elwing. Sixth part. Earendel reaches Kor and finds it empty. Fares home in sorrow (and sights Tol Eressea and the fleet of the Elves, but a great wind and darkness carries him away, and he misses his way and has a voyage eastward). Arriving at length at Sirion finds it empty. Goes to the ruins of Gondolin. Hears of tidings. Sails to Tol Eressea. Sails to the Isle of Seabirds. Seventh part. His voyage to the firmament. (* For 'Notebook C' see p. 254.)

Written at the end of the text is: 'Rem[ainder] of Scheme in Notebook C'. These references in Scheme B to 'Notebook C' are to the little pocket-book which goes back to 1916 -- 17 but was used for notes and suggestions throughout the period of the Lost Tales (see I. 171). At the beginning of it there is an outline (here called 'C') headed 'Earendel's Tale, Tuor's son', which is in fair harmony with Scheme B:

Earendel dwells with Tuor and Irilde~ at Sirion's mouth by the sea (on the Isles of Sirion). Elwing of the Gnomes of Artanor~ flees to them with the Nauglafring. Earendel and Elwing love one another as boy and girl. Great love of Earendel and Tuor. Tuor ages, and Ulmo's conches far out west over the sea call him louder and louder, till one evening he sets sail in his twilit boat with purple sails, Swanwing, Alqarame.~ Idril sees him too late. Her song on the beach of Sirion. When he does not return grief of Earendel and Idril. Earendel (urged also by Idril who is immortal) desires to set sail and search even ' to Mandos. [Marginal addition:] Curse of Nauglafring rests on his voyages. Osse his enemy. Fiord of the Mermaid. Wreck. Ulmo appears at wreck and saves them, telling them he must go to Kor and is saved for that. Elwing's grief when she learns Ulmo's bidding. 'For no man may tread the streets of Kor or look upon the places of the Gods and dwell in the Outer Lands in peace again.' Earendel departs all the same and is wrecked by the treachery of Osse and saved only by the Oarni (who love him) with Voronwe and dragged to Falasquil. Earendel makes his way back by land with Voronwe. Finds that Idril has vanished.' His grief; Prays to Ulmo and hears the conches. Ulmo bids him build a new and wonderful ship of the wood of Tuor from Falasquil. Building of Wingilot. There are four items headed 'Additions' on this page of the notebook: Building of Earame (Eaglepinion). Noldoli add their pleading to Ulmo's bidding. Earendel surveys the first dwelling of Tuor at Falasquil. The voyage to Mandos and the Icy Seas. The outline continues: Voronwe and Earendel set sail in Wingilot. Driven south. Dark regions. Fire mountains. Tree-men. Pygmies. Sarqindi or cannibalogres. Driven west. Ungweliante. Magic Isles. Twilit Isle [sic]. Littleheart's gong awakes the Sleeper in the Tower of Pearl.~

Kor is found. Empty. Earendel reads tales and prophecies in the waters. Desolation of Kor. Earendel's shoes and self powdered with diamond dust so that they shine brightly. Homeward adventures. Driven east -- the deserts and red palaces where dwells the Sun.~ Arrives at Sirion, only to find it sacked and empty. Earendel distraught wanders with Voronwe and comes to the ruins of Gondolin. Men are encamped there miserably. Also Gnomes searching still for lost gems (or some Gnomes gone back to Gondolin). Of the binding of Melko.~ The wars with Men and the departure to Tol Eressea (the Eldar unable to endure the strife of the world). Earendel sails to Tol Eressea and learns of the sinking of Elwing and the Nauglafring. Elwing became a seabird. His grief is very great. His garments and body shine like diamonds and his face is in silver flame for the grief and.......... He sets sail with Voronwe and dwells on the Isle of Seabirds in the northern waters (not far from Falasquil) -- and there hopes that Elwing will return among the seabirds, but she is seeking him wailing along all the shores and especially among wreckage. After three times seven years he sails again for halls of Mandos with Voronwe -- he gets there because [?only] those who still.......... and had suffered may do so -- Tuor is gone to Valinor and nought is known of Idril or of Elwing. Reaches bar at margin of the world and sets sail on oceans of the

firmament in order to gaze over the Earth. The Moon mariner chases him for his brightness and he dives through the Door of Night. How he cannot now return to the world or he will die. He will find Elwing at the Faring Forth. Tuor and Idril some say sail now in Swanwing and may be seen going swift down the wind at dawn and dusk. The Co-events to Earendel's Tale. Raid upon Sirion by Melko's Orcs and the captivity of Elwing. Birds tell Elves of the Fall of Gondolin and the horrors of the fate of the Gnomes. Counsels of the Gods and uproar of the Elves. March of the Inwir and Teleri. The Solosimpi go forth also but fare along all the beaches of the world, for they are loth to fare far from the sound of the sea -- and only consent to go with the Teleri under these conditions -- for the Noldoli slew some of their kin at Kopas. This outline then goes on to the events after the coming of the Elves of Valinor into the Great Lands, which will be considered in the next chapter. Though very much fuller, there seems to be little in C that is certainly contradictory to what is said in B, and there are elements in the latter that

are absent from the former. In discussing these outlines I follow the divisions of the tale made in B. Second part. A little more is told in C of Tuor's departure from Sirion (in B there is no mention of Idril); and there appears the motive of Osse's hostility to Earendel and the curse of the Nauglafring as instrumental in his shipwrecks. The place of the first wreck is called the Fiord of the Mermaid. The word 'them' rather than 'him' in 'Ulmo saves them, telling them he must go to Kor' is certain in the manuscript, which possibly suggests that Idril or Elwing (or both) were with Earendel. Third part. In B Earendel's second voyage, like the first, is explicitly an attempt to reach Mandos (seeking his father), whereas in C it seems that the second is undertaken rather in order to fulfil Ulmo's bidding that he sail to Kor (to Elwing's grief). In C Voronwe is named as Earendel's companion on the second voyage which ended at Falasquil; but the Isle of Seabirds is not mentioned at this point. In C Wingilot is built 'of the wood of Tuor from Falasquil', in?he Fall of Gondolin Tuor's wood was hewed for him by the Noldoli in the forests of Dor Lomin and floated down the hidden river (p. 152). Fourth part. Whereas B merely refers to Earendel's 'many wanderings, occupying several years' in his quest for Valinor, C gives some glimpses of what they were to be, as Wingilot was driven to the south and then into the west. The encounter with Ungweliante on the western voyage is curious; it is said in The Tale of the Sun and Noon that 'Melko held the North and Ungweliant the South' (see I. 182, 200). In C we meet again the Sleeper in the Tower of Pearl (said to be Idril, though this was struck out, note 6) awakened by Littleheart's gong; cf. the account of Littleheart in The Cottage of Lost Play (I. 15): He sailed in Wingilot with Earendel in that last voyage wherein they sought for Kor. It was the ringing of this Gong on the Shadowy Seas that awoke the Sleeper in the Tower of Pearl that stands far out to west in the Twilit Isles. In The Coming of the Valar it is said that the Twilit Isles 'float' on the Shadowy Seas 'and the Tower of Pearl rises pale upon their most western cape' (I. 68; cf. I. 125). But there is no other mention in C of Littleheart, Voronwe's son, as a companion of Earendel, though he was named earlier in the outline, in a rejected phrase, as present at the Mouths of Sirion (see note 5), and in the Tale of the Nauglafring (p. 228) Ailios says that none still living have seen the Nauglafring 'save only Littleheart son of Bronweg' (where 'save only' is an emendation from 'not even'). Fifth and sixth parts. In C we meet the image of Earendel's shoes

shining from the dust of diamonds in Kor, an image that was to survive (The Silmarillion p. 248): He walked in the deserted ways of Tirion, and the dust upon his raiment and his shoes was a dust of diamonds, and he shone and glistened as he climbed the long white stairs. But in The Silmarillion Tirion was deserted because it was 'a time of festival, and wellnigh all the Elvenfolk were gone to Valimar, or were gathered in the halls of Manwe upon Taniquetil'; here on the other hand it seems at least strongly implied, in both B and C, that Kor was empty because the Elves of Valinor had departed into the Great Lands, as a result of the tidings brought by the birds of Gondolin. In these very early narrative schemes there is no mention of Earendel's speaking to the Valar, as the ambassador of Elves and Men (The Silmarillion p. 249), and we can only conclude, extraordinary as the conclusion is, that Earendel's great western voyage, though he attained his goal, was fruitless,that he was not the agent of the aid that did indeed come out of Valinor to the Elves of the Great Lands, and (most curious of all) that Ulmo's designs for Tuor had no issue. In fact, my father actually wrote in the 1930 version of 'The Silmarillion': Thus it was that the many emissaries of the Gnomes in after days came never back to Valinor -- save one: and he came too late. e words 'and he came too late' were changed to 'the mightiest mariner of song', and this is the phrase that is found in The Silmarillion, p. 102.I t is unfortunately never made clear in the earliest writings what wasU lmo's purpose in bidding Earendel sail to Kor, for which he had been saved from the ruin of Gondolin. What would he have achieved, had he come to Kor 'in time', more than in the event did take place after the coming of tidings from Gondolin -- the March of the Elves into the Great Lands? In a curious note in C, not associated with the present outline, my father asked: 'How did King Turgon's messengers get to Valinor or gain the Gods' consent?' and answered: 'His messengers never got there. Ulmo [sic] but the birds brought tidings to the Elves of the fate of Gondolin (the doves and pigeons of Turgon) and they [?arm and march away].' The coming of the message was followed by 'the councils (counsels C) of the Gods and the uproar of the Elves', but in C nothing is said of 'the sorrow and wrath of the Gods' or 'the veil dropped between Valmar and Kor' referred to in B: where the meaning can surely only be that the March of the Elves from Valinor was undertaken in direct opposition to the will of the Valar, that the Valar were bitterly opposed to the intervention of the Elves of Valinor in the affairs of the Great Lands. There may well be a connection here with Vaire's words (I. 19g): 'When the fairies left Kor that lane [i.e. Olore Malle that led past the Cottage of Lost Play] was blocked for ever with great impassable rocks'. Elsewhere there is only one other reference to the effect of the message from across the sea, and that is in the words of Lindo to Eriol in The Cottage of Lost Play (I.16): Inwe, whom the Gnomes call Inwithiel..... was King of all the Eldar when they dwelt in Kor. That was in the days before hearing the lament of the world [i.e. the Great Lands] Inwe led them forth to the lands of Men. Later, Meril-i-Turinqi told Eriol (I. 129) that Inwe, her grandsire's sire, 'perished in that march into the world', but Ingil his son 'went long ago back to Valinor and is with Manwe', and there is a reference to Inwe's death in B. In C the Solosimpi only agreed to accompany the expedition on condition that they remain by the sea, and the reluctance of the Third Kindred, on account of the Kinslaying at Swanhaven, survived (?he Silmarillion p. 251). But there is no suggestion that the Elves of Valinor were transported by ship, indeed the reverse, for the Solosimpi 'fare

along all the beaches of the world', and the expedition is a 'March'; though there is no indication of how they came to the Great Lands. Both outlines refer to Earendel being driven eastwards on his homeward voyage from Kor, and to his finding the dwellings at Sirion's mouth ravaged when he finally returned there; but B does not say who carried out the sack and captured Elwing. In C it was a raid by Orcs of Melko; cf. the entry in the Name-list to The Fall of Condolin (p. 215): 'Egalmoth ...got even out of the burning of Gondolin, and dwelt after at the mouth of Sirion, but was slain in a dire battle there when Melko seized Elwing'. Neither outline refers to Elwing's escape from captivity. Both mention Earendel's going back to the ruins of Gondolin -- in C he returns there with Voronwe and finds Men and Gnomes; another entry in the Namelist to The Fall of Gondolin (p. 215) bears on this: 'Galdor... won out of Gondolin and even the onslaught of Melko upon the dwellers at Sirion's mouth and went back to the ruins with Earendel.' Both outlines mention the departure of the Elves from the Great Lands, after the binding of Melko, to Tol Eressea, C adding a reference to 'wars with Men' and to the Eldar being 'unable to endure the strife of the world', and both refer to Earendel's going there subsequently, but the order of events seems to be different: in B Earendel on his way back from Kor 'sights Tol Eressea and the fleet of the Elves' (presumably the fleet returning from the Great Lands), whereas in C the departure of the Elves is not mentioned until after Earendel's return to Sirion. But the nature of these outlines is not conveyed in print: they were written at great speed, catching fugitive thoughts, and cannot be pressed hard. However, with the fate of Elwing B and C seem clearly to part company: in B there is a simple reference to her death, apparently associated with the curse of the Nauglafring, and from the order in which the events are set down it may be surmised that her death took place on the journey to Tol Eressea; C specifically refers to the 'sinking' of Elwing and the Nauglafring -- but says that Elwing became a seabird, an idea that sutvived (The Silmarillion p. 247). This perhaps gives more point to Earendel's going to the Isle of Seabirds, mentioned in both B and C: in the latter he 'hopes that Elwing will return among the seabirds'. Seventh part. In B the concluding part of the tale is merely summarised in the words 'His voyage to the firmament', with a reference to the other outline C, and in the latter we get some glimpses of a narrative. It seems to be suggested that the brightness of Earendel (quite unconnected with the Silmaril) arose from the 'diamond dust' of Kor, but also in some sense from the exaltation of his grief. An isolated jotting elsewhere in C asks: 'What became of the Silmarils after the capture of Melko?' My father at this time gave no answer to the question; but the question is itself a testimony to the relatively minor importance of the jewels of Feanor, if also, perhaps, a sign of his awareness that they would not always remain so, that in them lay a central meaning of the mythology, yet to be discovered. It seems too that Earendel sailed into the sky in continuing search for Elwing ('he sets sail on the oceans of the firmament in order to gaze over the Earth'); and that his passing through the Door of Night (the entrance made by the Gods in the Wall of Things in the West, see I. 215 -- 16) did not come about through any devising, but because he was hunted by the Moon. With this last idea, cf. I.193, where Ilinsor, steersman of the Moon, is said to 'hunt the stars'. The later of the two schemes for the Lost Tales, which gives a quite substantial outline for Gilfanon's Tale, where I have called it 'D' (see I. 234), here fails us, for the concluding passage is very condensed, in part erased, and ends abruptly early in the Tale of Earendel. I give it , here, beginning at a slightly earlier point in the narrative: Of the death of Tinwelint and the flight of Gwenethlin [see p. 51]. How Beren avenged Tinwelint and how the Necklace became his. How it brought sickness to Tinuviel [see p. 246], and how Beren and

Tinuviel faded from the Earth. How their sons [sic] dwelt after them and how the sons of Feanor came up against them with a host because of the Silmaril. How all were slain but Elwing daughter of Daimord [see p. 139] son of Beren fled with the Necklace. Of Tuor's vessel with white sails. How folk of the Lothlim dwelt at Sirion's Mouth. Earendel grew fairest of all Men that were or are. How the mermaids (Oarni) loved

him. How Elwing came to the Lothlim and of the love of Elwing and Earendel. How Tuor fell into age, and how Ulmo beckoned to him at eve, and he set forth on the waters and was lost. How Idril swam after him. (In the following passage my father seems at first to have written: 'Earendel........ Oarni builded Wingilot and set forth in search of .... leaving Voronwe with Elwing', where the first lacuna perhaps said 'with the aid of', though nothing is now visible; but then he wrote 'Earendel built Swanwing', and then partly erased the passage: it is impossible to see now what his intention was.) Elwing's lament. How Ulmo forbade his quest but Earendel would yet sail to find a passage to Mandos. How Wingilot was wrecked at Falasquil and how Earendel found the carven house of Tuor there. Here Scheme D ends. There is also a reference at an earlier point in it to 'the messengers sent from Gondolin. The doves of Gondolin fly to Valinor at the fall of that town.' This outline seems to show a move to reduce the complexity of the narrative, with Wingilot being the ship in which Earendel attempted to sail to Mandos and in which he was wrecked at Falasquil; but the outline is too brief and stops too soon to allow any certain conclusions to be drawn. A fourth outline, which I will call 'E', is found on a detached sheet; in this Tuor is called Tur (see p. 148). j Fall of Gondolin. The feast of Glorfindel. The dwelling by the waters of Sirion's mouth. The mermaids come to Earendel. Tur groweth sea-hungry -- his song to Earendel. One evening he calls Earendel and they go to the shore. There is a skiff. Tur bids into the West. Earendel hears a great song swelling from the sea as Tur's skiff dips over the world's rim. His passion of tears upon the shore. The lament of Idril. The building of Earum.~ The coming of Elwing. Earendel's reluctance. The whetting of Idril. The voyage and foundering of Earum in the North, and the vanishing of Idril. How the seamaids rescued Earendel, and brought him to Tur's bay. His coastwise journey. The rape o( Elwing. Earendel discovers the ravaging of Sirion's mouth. The building of Wingelot. He searches for Elwing and is blown far to the South. Wirilome. He escapes eastward. He goes back westward; he descries the Bay of Faery. The Tower of Pearl, the magic isles, the great shadows. He finds Kor empty; he sails back, crusted with dust and his face afire. He learns of Elwing's foundering. He sitteth on the Isle of Seabirds. Elwing as a seamew comes to him. He sets sail over the margent of the world. Apart from the fuller account of Tuor's departure from the mouths of Sirion, not much can be learned from this- it is too condensed. But even allowing for speed and compression, there seem to be essential differences from B and C. Thus in this outline (E) Elwing, as it appears, comes to Sirion at a later point in the story, after the departure of Tuor; but the raid and capture of Elwing seems to take place at an earlier point, while Earendel is on his way back to Sirion from his shipwreck in the North (not, as in B and C, while he is on the great voyage in Wingilot that took

him to Kor). Here, it seems, there was to be only one northward journey, ending in the shipwreck of Earame/Earum near Falasquil. Though it cannot be demonstrated, I incline to think that E was subsequent to B and C: partly because the reduction of two northward voyages ending in shipwreck to one seems more likely than the other way about, and partly because of the form Tur, which, though it did not survive, replaced Tuor for a time (p.148). One or two other points may be noticed in this outline. The great spider, called Ungweliante' in C but here Wirilome ('Gloomweaver', seeI. 152), is here encountered by Earendel in the far South, not as in C on his westward voyage: see p. 256. Elwing in this version comes to Earendel as a seabird (as she does in The Silmarillion, p. 247), which is not said in C and even seems to be denied. Another isolated page (associated with the poem 'The Bidding of the Minstrel', see pp. 269-- 70 below) gives a very curious account of Earendel's great voyage: Earendel's boat goes through North. Iceland. [Added in margin: back of North Wind.] Greenland, and the wild islands: a mighty wind and crest of great wave carry him to hotter climes, to back of West Wind. Land of strange men, land of magic. The home of Night. The Spider. He escapes from the meshes of Night with a few comrades, sees a great mountain island and a golden city [added in margin: Kor] -- wind blows him southward. Tree-men, Sun-dwellers, spices, fire-mountains, red sea: Mediterranean (loses his boat (travels afoot through wilds of Europe?)) or Atlantic.* Home. Waxes aged. Has a new boat builded. Bids adieu to his north land. Sails west again to the lip of the world, just as the Sun is diving into the sea. He sets sail upon the sky and returns no more to earth. The golden city was Kor and he had caught the music of the Solosimpe, and returns to find it, only to find that the fairies have departed from Eldamar. See little book. Dusted with diamond dust climbing the deserted streets of Kor. (* The words in this passage ('Tree-men, Sun-dwellers...') are clear but the punctuation is not, and the arrangement here may not be that intended.) One would certainly suppose this account to be earlier than anything so far considered (both from the fact that Earendel's history after his return from the great voyage seems to bear no relation to that in B and C, and from his voyage being set in the lands and oceans of the known world), were it not for the reference to the 'little book', which must mean 'Notebook C', from which the outline C above is taken (see p. 254). But I think it very probable (and the appearance of the MS rather supports this) that the last paragraph ('The golden city was Kor...') was added later, and that the rest of the outline belongs with the earliest writing of the poem, in the winter of 1914. It is notable that only here in the earliest writings is it made clear that the 'diamond dust' that coated Earendel came from the streets of Kor (cf. the passage from The Silmarillion cited on p. 257). Another of the early Earendel poems, 'The Shores of Faery', has a short prose preface, which if not as old as the first composition of the poem itself (July 19I5, see p. 271) is certainly not much later: Earendel the Wanderer who beat about the Oceans of the World in his white ship Wingelot sat long while in his old age upon the Isle of Seabirds in the Northern Waters ere he set forth upon a last voyage. He passed Taniquetil and even Valinor, and drew his bark over the bar at the margin of the world, and launched it on the Oceans of the Firmament. Of his ventures there no man has told, save that hunted by the orbed Moon he fled back to Valinor, and mounting the towers of Kor upon the rocks of Eglamar he gazed back upon the Oceans of the World. To Eglamar he comes ever at plenilune when the Moon sails a-harrying beyond Taniquetil and Valinor.* Both here and in the outline associated with 'The Bidding of the Minstrel'

Earendel was conceived to be an old man when he journeyed into the firmament. No other 'connected' account of the Tale of Earendel exists from the earliest period. There are however a number of separate notes, mostly in the form of single sentences, some found in the little notebook C, others jotted down on slips. I collect these references here more or less in the sequence of the tale. (i) 'Dwelling in the Isle of Sirion in a house of snow-white stone.'- In C (p. 254) it is said that Earendel dwelt with Tuor and Idril at Sirion's mouth by the sea 'on the Isles of Sirion'. (* This preface is found in all the texts of the poem save the carlicst, and the versions of it differ only in name-forms: Wingelot/Vingelot and Eglamarl/EIdamar (varying in the same ways as in the accompanying versions of the poem, see textual notes p. 272), and Kor > Tun in the third text, Tun in the fourth. For Egla = Elda see I. 251 and II. 338, and for Tun see p. 292.) (ii) 'The Oarni give to Earendel a wonderful shining silver coat that wets not. They love Earendel, in Osse's despite, and teach him the lore of boat-building and of swimming, as he plays with them about the shores of Sirion.' -- In the outlines are found references to the love of the Oarni for Earendel (D, p. 259), the coming of the mermaids to him (E, p. 260), and toOsse's enmity (C,p.254). (iii) Earendel was smaller than most men but nimble-footed and a swift swimmer (but Voronwe could not swim). (iv) 'Idril and Earendel see Tuor's boat dropping into the twilight and a sound of song.' -- In B Tuor's sailing is'secret' (p. 253), in C 'Idril sees him too late' (p. 254), and in E Earendel is present at Tuor's departure and thrusts the boat out: 'he hears a great song swelling from the sea' (p. 260). (v) 'Death of Idril? -- follows secretly after Tuor.' -- That Idril died is denied in C: 'Tuor and Idril some say sail now in Swanwing...' (p. 255); in D Idril swam after him (p. 260). (vi) 'Tuor has sailed back to Falasquil and so back up Ilbranteloth to Asgon where he sits playing on his lonely harp on the islanded rock.' -This is marked with a query and an 'X' implying rejection of the idea. There are curious references to the 'islanded rock' in Asgon in the outlines for Gilfanon's Tale (see I. 238). (vii) 'The fiord of the Mermaid: enchantment of his sailors. Mermaids are not Oarni (but are earthlings, or fays? -- or both).' -- In D (p. 259) Mermaids andOarni are equated. (viii) The ship Wingilot was built of wood from Falasquil with 'aid of the Oarni'. -- This was probably said also in D: see p. 26o. (ix) Wingilot was 'shaped as a swan of pearls'. (x) 'The doves and pigeons of Turgon's courtyard bring message to Valinor -- only to Elves.' -- Other references to the birds that flew from Gondolin also say that they came to the Elves, or to Kor (pp. 253, 255, 257). (xi) 'During his voyages Earendel sights the white walls of Kor gleaming afar off, but is carried away by Osse's adverse winds and waves.' -The same is said in B (p. 253) of Earendel's sighting of Tol Eressea on his homeward voyage from Kor. (xii) 'The Sleeper in the Tower of Pearl awakened by Littleheart's gong: a messenger that was despatched years ago by Turgon and enmeshed in magics. Even now he cannot leave the Tower and warns them of the magic.' -- In C there is a statement, rejected, that the Sleeper in the Tower of Pearl was Idril herself (see note 6). (xiii) 'Ulmo's protection removed from Sirion in wrath at Earendel's second attempt to Mandos, and hence Melko overwhelmed it.' -- This note is struck through, with an 'X' written against it; but in D (p. 260) it is said that 'Ulmo forbade his quest but Earendel would yet sail to find a passage to Mandos'. The meaning of this must be that it was contrary to Ulmo's purpose that Earendel should seek to Mandos for his father, but must rather attempt to reach Kor.

(xiv) 'Earendel weds Elwing before he sets sail. When he hears of her loss he says that his children shall be "all such men hereafter as dare the great seas in ships>. -- With this cf. ?he Cottage of Lost Play (I. 13): 'even such a son of Earendel as was this wayfarer', and (I. 18): 'a man of great and excellent travel, a son meseems of Earendel'. In an outline of Eriol's life (I. 24) it is said that he was a son of Earendel, born under his beam, and that if a beam from Earendel fall on a child newborn he becomes 'a child of Earendel' and a wanderer. In the early dictionary of Qenya there is an entry: Earendilyon 'son of Earendel (used of any mariner)' (I. 251). (xv) 'Earendel goes even to the empty Halls of Iron seeking Elwing.'Earendel must have gone to Angamandi (empty after the defeat of Melko) at the same time as he went to the ruins of Gondolin (pp. 253, 255). (xvi) The loss of the ship carrying Elwing and the Nauglafring took place on the voyage to Tol Eressea with the exodus of the Elves from the Great Lands. -- See my remarks, pp. 258 -- 9. For the 'appeasing'of Mim's curse by the drowning of the Nauglafring see the Appendix on Names, entry Nauglafring. The departure of the Elves to Tol Eressea is discussed in the next chapter (p. 280). (xvii) 'Earendel and the northern tower on the Isle of Seabirds.'- In C (p. 255) Earendel 'sets sail with Voronwe and dwells on the Isle of Seabirds in the northern waters (not far from Falasquil) -- and there hopes that Elwing will return among the seabirds'; in B (p. 253) 'he sights the Isle of Seabirds "whither do all the birds of all waters come at whiles".' There is a memory of this in The Silmarillion, p. 250: 'Therefore there was built for [Elwing] a white tower northward upon the borders of the Sundering Seas; and thither at times all the seabirds of the earth repaired.' (xviii) When Earendel comes to Mandos he finds that Tuor is 'not in Valinor, nor Erumani, and neither Elves nor Ainu know where he is. (He is with Ulmo.)' -- In C (p. 255) Earendel, reaching the Halls of Mandos, learns that Tuor 'is gone to Valinor'. For the possibility that Tuor might be in Erumani or Valinor see I. 91 ff. (xix) Earendel 'returns from the firmament ever and anon with Voronwe to Kor to see if the Magic Sun,has been lit and the fairies have come back -- but the Moon drives him back'. -- On Earendel's return from the firmament see (xxi) below; on the Rekindling of the Magic Sun see p. 286. Two statements about Earendel cited previously may be added here: (xx) In the tale of The Theft of Melko (I. 141) it is said that 'on the walls of Kor were many dark tales written in pictured symbols, and runes of great beauty were drawn there too or carved upon stones, and Earendel read many a wondrous tale there long ago'. (xxi) The Name-list to The Fall of Gondolin has the following entry (cited on p. 215): 'Earendel was the son of Tuor and Idril and 'tis said the only being that is half of the kindred of the Eldalie and half of Men. He was the greatest and first of all mariners among Men, and saw regions that Men have not yet found nor gazed upon for all the multitude of their boats. He rideth now with Voronwe upon the winds of the firmament nor comes ever further back than Kor, else would he die like other Men, so much of the mortal is in him.' -- In the outline associated with the poem 'The Bidding of the Minstrel' Earendel 'sets sail upon the sky and returns no more to earth' (p. 261); in the prose preface to 'The Shores of Faery' 'to Eglamar he comes ever at plenilune when the Moon sails a-harrying beyond Taniquetil and Valinor' (p. 262); in outline C 'he cannot now return to the world or he will die' (p. 255); and in citation (xix) above he 'returns from the firmament ever and anon with Voronwe to Kor'. In The Silmarillion (p. 249) Manwe's judgement was that Earendel and Elwing 'shall not walk ever again among Elves or Men in the Outer

Lands', but it is also said that Earendel returned to Valinor from his 'voyages beyond the confines of the world' (ibid. p. 250), just as it is said in the Name-list to The Fall of Gondolin that he does not come ever further back than Kor. The further statement in the Name-list, that if he did he would die like other Men, 'so much of the mortal is in him', was in some sense echoed long after in a letter of my father's written in 1967: 'Earendil, being in part descended from Men, was not allowed to set foot on Earth again, and became a star shining with the light of the Silmaril' (The Letters of J. R. R. Tolkien no. 297). This brings to an end all the 'prose' materials that bear on the earliest form of the Tale of Earendel (apart from a few other references to him that appear in the next chapter). With these outlines and notes we are at a very early stage of composition, when the conceptions were fluid and had not been given even preliminary narrative form: the myth was present in certain images that were to endure, but these images had not been articulated. I have already noticed (p. 257) the remarkable fact that there is no hint of the idea that it was Earendel who by his intercession brought aid out of the West; equally there is no suggestion that the Valar hallowed his ship and set him in the sky, nor that his light was that of the Silmaril. Nonetheless there were already present the coming of Eirendel to Kor (Tirion) and finding it deserted, the dust of diamonds on his shoes, the changing of Elwing into a seabird, the passing of his ship through the Door of Night, and the sanction against his return to the lands east of the Sea. The raid on the Havens of Sirion appears in the early outlines, though that was an act of Melko's, not of the Feanorians; and Tuor's departure also, but without Idril, whom he left behind. His ship was Alqarame, Swanwing: afterwards it bore the name Earrame, with the meaning 'Sea-wing' (TheSilmarillion p. 245), which retained, in form but not in meaning, the name of Earendel's first ship Earame 'Eaglepinion' (pp. 253 -- 4, and see note g). It is interesting to read my father's statement, made some half-century later (in the letter of 1967 referred to above), concerning the origins of Earendil: This name is' in fact (as is obvious) derived from Anglo-Saxon earendel. When first studying Anglo-Saxon professionally (1913- ) -- I had done so as a boyish hobby when supposed to be learning Greek and Latin -- I was struck by the great beauty of this word (or name), entirely coherent with the normal style of Anglo-Saxon, but euphonic to a peculiar degree in that pleasing but not 'delectable' language. Also its form strongly suggests that it is in origin a proper name and not a common noun. This is borne out by the obviously related forms in other Germanic languages; from which amid the confusions and debasem*nts of late traditions it at least seems certain that it belonged to astronomical-myth, and was the name of a star or star-group. To my mind the Anglo-Saxon uses seem plainly to indicate that it was a star presaging the dawn (at any rate in English tradition): that is what we now call Venus: the morning star as it may be seen shining brilliantly in the dawn, before the actual rising of the Sun. That is at any rate how I toot it. Before 1914 I wrote a 'poem' upon Earendel who launched his ship like a bright spark from the havens of the Sun. I adopted him into my mythology -- in which he became a prime figure as a mariner, and eventually as a herald star, and a sign of hope to men. Aiya Earendil Elenion Ancalima ([The Lord of the Rings] II.329) 'hail Earendil brightest of Stars' is derived at long remove from Eala Earendel engla beorhtast.* But the name could not be adopted just like that: it had to be accommodated to the Elvish linguistic situation, at the same time as a place for this person was made in legend. From this, far back in the history of 'Elvish', which was beginning, after many tentative starts in boyhood, to take definite shape at the time of the name's adoption, arose eventually (a) the C[ommon]E[lvish] stem (*) AYAR'sea',

primarily applied to the Great Sea of the West, lying between Middleearth and Aman the Blessed Realm of the Valar; and (b) the element, or verbal base (N)DIL, 'to love, be devoted to'- describing the attitude of one to a person, thing, cause, or occupation to which one is devoted for its own sake. Earendil became a character in the earliest written (1916-17) of the major legends: The Fall of Condolin, the greatest of the Pereldar 'Half-elven', son of Tuor of the most renowned House of the Edain, and Idril daughter of the King of Gondolin. My father did not indeed here say that his Earendel contained from the beginning elements that in combination give a meaning like 'Sea-lover', but it is in any case clear that at the time of the earliest extant writings on (* From the Old English poem Crist: eala! earendel engla beorhtast ofer middongeard monnum sended.) the subject the name was associated with an Elvish word ea 'eagle' -- see p. 256 on the name of Earendel's first ship Earame 'Eaglepinion'. In the Name-list to The Fall of Condolin this is made explicit: 'Earendl [sic] though belike it hath some kinship to the Elfin ea and earen "eagle" and "eyrie" (wherefore cometh to mind the passage of Cristhorn and the use of the sign of the Eagle by Idril [see p. 193]) is thought to be woven of that secret tongue of the Gondothlim [see p. 165].' I give lastly four early poems of my father's in which Earendel appears. Eala Earendel Engla Beorhtast. There can be little doubt that, as Humphrey Carpenter supposes (Biography p. 71), this was the first poem on the subject of Earendel that my father composed, and that it was written at Phoenix Farm, Gedling, Nottinghamshire, in September 1914.~ It was to this poem that he was referring in the letter of 1967 just cited -- 'I wrote a "poem" upon Earendel who launched his ship like a bright spark: cf. line 5 He launched his bark like a silver spark...' There are some five different versions, each one incorporating emendations made in the predecessor, though only the first verse was substantially rewritten. The title was originally 'The Voyage of Earendel the Evening Star', together with (as customarily) an Old English version of this: Scipfaereld Earendeles AEfensteorran; this was changed in a later copy to Eala Earendel Engla Beorhtast 'The Last Voyage of Earendel', and in still later copies the modern English name was removed. I give it here in the last version, the date of which cannot be determined, though the handwriting shows it to be substantially later than the original composition; together with all the divergent readings of the earliest extant version in footnotes. Earendel arose where the shadow flows At Ocean's silent brim; Through the mouth of night as a ray of light Where the shores are sheer and dim He launched his bark like a silver spark From the last and lonely sand; Then on sunlit breath of day's fiery death He sailed from Westerland. 4 8 He threaded his path o'er the aftermath Of the splendour of the Sun, And wandered far past many a star In his gleaming galleon.12 On the gathering tide of darkness ride The argosies of the sky, And spangle the night with their sails of light As the streaming star goes by.16 Unheeding he dips past these twinkling ships,

By his wayward spirit whirled On an endless quest through the darkling West O'er the margin of the world;20 And he fares in haste o'er the jewelled waste And the dusk from whence he came With his heart afire with bright desire And his face in silver flame.24 The Ship of the Moon from the East comes soon From the Haven of the Sun, Whose white gates gleam in the coming beam Of the mighty silver one.28 Lo! with bellying clouds as his vessel's shrouds He weighs anchor down the dark, And on shimmering oars leaves the blazing shores In his argent-timbered bark. 32 Readings of the earliest version: 1-8 Earendel sprang up from the Ocean's cup In the gloom of the mid-world's rim; From the door of Night as a ray of light Leapt over the twilight brim, And launching his bark like a silver spark From the golden-fading sand Down the sunlit breath of Day's fiery Death He sped from Westerland. 10 splendour] glory. 11 wandered] went wandering. 16 streaming] Evening. 17 Unheeding] But unheeding. 18 wayward] wandering. 19 endless] magic darkling] darkening. 20 O'er the margin] Toward the margent. 22 And the dust] To the dust. 25 The Ship] For the Ship. 31 blazing] skiey. 32 timbered] orbed.

Then Earendel fled from that Shipman dread Beyond the dark earth's pale, Back under the rim of the Ocean dim, And behind the world set sail; And he heard the mirth of the folk of earth And the falling of their tears, As the world dropped back in a cloudy wrack On its journey down the years. 36 40 Then he glimmering passed to the starless vast As an isled lamp at sea, And beyond the ken of mortal men Set his lonely errantry, Tracking the Sun in his galleon Through the pathless firmament, Till his light grew old in abysses cold And his eager flame was spent. 44 48 There seems every reason to think that this poem preceded all the outlines and notes given in this chapter, and that verbal similarities to the poem found in these are echoes (e.g. 'his face is in silver flame',

outline C, p. 255; 'the margent of the world', outline E, p. 260). In the fourth verse of the poem the Ship of the Moon comes forth from the Haven of the Sun; in the tale of The Hiding of Valinor (I. 215) Aule and Ulmo built two havens in the east, that of the Sun (which was 'wide and golden') and that of the Moon (which was 'white, having gates of silver and of pearl') -- but they were both 'within the same harbourage'. As in the poem, in the Tale of the Sun and Moon the Moon is urged on by 'shimmering oars' (I. 195). II. The Bidding of the Minstrel. This poem, according to a note that my father scribbled on one of the copies, was written at St. John's Street, Oxford (see I. 27) in the winter of 1914; there is no other evidence for its date. In this case the earliest workings are extant, and on the back of one of the sheets is the outline 33. Then] And. 38. And the falling of] And hearkened to. 46-8. And voyaging the skies Till his splendour was shorn by the birth of Morn And he died with the Dawn in his eyes. account of Earendel's great voyage given on p. 261. The poem was then much longer than it became, but the workings are exceedingly rough; they have no title. To the earliest finished text a title was added hastily later: this apparently reads 'The Minstrel renounces the song'. The title then became 'The Lay of Earendel', changed in the latest text to 'The Bidding of the Minstrel, from the Lay of Earendel'. There are four versions following the original rough draft, but the changes made in them were slight, and I give the poem here in the latest form, noting only that originally the minstrel seems to have responded to the 'bidding' much earlier -- at line 5, which read 'Then harken -- a tale of immortal sea-yearning -,andthat Eldar in line 6 and Elven in line 23 are emendations, made on the latest text, of 'fairies', 'fairy'. 'Sing us yet more of Earendel the wandering, Chant us a lay of his white-oared ship, More marvellous-cunning than mortal man's pondering, Foamily musical out on the deep. Sing us a tale of immortal sea-yearning The Eldar once made ere the change of the light, Weaving a winelike spell, and a burning Wonder of spray and the odours of night; Of murmurous gloamings out on far oceans; Of his tossing at anchor off islets forlorn To the unsleeping waves' never-ending sea-motions; Of bellying sails when a wind was born, And the gurgling bubble of tropical water Tinkled from under the ringed stem, 5 1O And thousands of miles was his ship from those wrought her 15 A petrel, a sea-bird, a white-winged gem, Gallantly bent on measureless faring Ere she came homing in sea-laden flight, Circuitous, lingering, restlessly daring, Coming to haven unlooked for, at night.' 20 'But the music is broken, the words half-forgotten, The sunlight has faded, the moon is grown old, The Elven ships foundered or weed-swathed and rotten, The fire and the wonder of hearts is acold. Who now can tell, and what harp can accompany With melodies strange enough, rich enough tunes, Pale with the magic of cavernous harmony,

Loud with shore-music of beaches and dunes, How slender his boat; of what glimmering timber; How her sails were all silvern and taper her mast, And silver her throat with foam and her limber Flanks as she swanlike floated past! 25 30 The song I can sing is but shreds one remembers Of golden imaginings fashioned in sleep, A whispered tale told by the withering embers Of old things far off that but few hearts keep.' 35 III. The Shores of Faery. This poem is given in its earliest form by Humphrey Carpenter, Biography, pp.76--76.~ It exists in four versions each as usual incorporating slight changes; my father wrote the date of its composition on three of the copies, viz. 'July 8 -- g, 1915; 'Moseley and Edgbaston, Birmingham July 1915 (walking and on bus). Retouched often since-esp. 1924'; and 'First poem of my mythology, Valinor.......... 1910'. This last cannot have been intended for the date of composition, and the illegible words preceding it may possibly be read as 'thought of about'. But it does not in any case appear to have been 'the first poem of the mythology'. that, I believe, was Eala Earendel Engla Beorhtast -- and my father's mention of this poem in his letter of 1967 (see p. 266) seems to suggest this also. The Old English title was lelfalandes Strand (The Shores of Elfland). It is preceded by a short prose preface which has been given above, p. 262. I give it here in the latest version (undateable), with all readings from the earliest in footnotes. East of the Moon, west of the Sun There stands a lonely hill; Its feet are in the pale green sea, Its towers are white and still, Beyond Taniquetil In Valinor. Comes never there but one lone star That fled before the moon; And there the Two Trees naked are That bore Night's silver bloom, That bore the globed fruit of Noon In Valinor. There are the shores of Faery Reaadings of the earliest version: 7 8 10 East..... west] West..... East. No stars come there but one alone. fled before] hunted with For there the Two Trees naked grow bore] bear. 11 bore] bear. 5 1O With their moonlit pebbled strand Whose foam is silver music On the opalescent floor Beyond the great sea-shadows On the marches of the sand That stretches on for ever To the dragonheaded door,

The gateway of the Moon, Beyond Taniquetil In Valinor. West of the Sun, east of the Moon Lies the haven of the star, The white town of the Wanderer And the rocks of Eglamar. There Wingelot is harboured, While Earendel looks afar O'er the darkness of the waters Between here and Eglamar -Out, out, beyond Taniquetil In Valinor afar. IS 20 25 30 There are some interesting connections between this poem and the tale of The Coming of the Elves and the Making of Kor. The 'lonely hill' of line 2 is the hill of Kor (cf. the tale, I. r 122: 'at the head of this long creek there stands a lonely hill which gazes at the loftier mountains'), while 'the golden feet of Kor' (a line replaced in the later versions of the poem) and very probably 'the sand That stretches on for ever' are explained by the passage that follows in the tale: Thither [i.e. to Kor] did Aule bring all the dust of magic metals that his great works had made and gathered, and he piled it about the foot of that hill, and most of this dust was of gold, and a sand of gold stretched away from the feet of Kor out into the distance where the Two Trees blossomed. 18 marches] margent. 20 -- 21 To the dragonheaded door, The gateway of the Moon] From the golden feet of Kor. 24 West of the Sun, east of the Moon] O! West o( the Moon, East of the Sun. 27 rocks] rock. 28 Wingelot] Earliest text Wingelot > Vingelot; second text Vingelot; third text Vingelot > Wingelot; last text Wingelot. 30 O'er the darkness of the waters] On the magic and the wonder. 31 Between] 'Tween. In the latest text Elvenland is lightly written over Faery in line 13, and EIdamar against Eglamar in line 27 (only); Eglamar > Eldamar in the second text. With the 'dragonheaded door' (line 20) cf. the description of the Door of Night in?he Hiding of Valinor (I. 215 -- 16): Its pillars are of the mightiest basalt and its lintel likewise, but great dragons of black stone are carved thereon, and shadowy smoke pours slowly from their jaws. In that description the Door of Night is not however 'the gateway of the Moon', for it is the Sun that passes through it into the outer dark, whereas 'the Moon dares not the utter loneliness of the outer dark by reason of his lesser light and majesty, and he journeys still beneath the world [i.e. through the waters of Vai]'. IV. The Happy Mariners. I give lastly this poem whose subject is the Tower of Pearl in the Twilit Isles. It was written in July 1915,~ and there are six texts preceding the version which was published (together with 'Why the Man in the Moon came down too soon') at Leeds in 1923* and which is the first of the two given here. (I) I know a window in a western tower That opens on celestial seas, And wind that has been blowing round the stars Comes to nestle in its tossing draperies.

It is a white tower builded in the Twilight Isles, Where Evening sits for ever in the shade; It glimmers like a spike of lonely pearl That mirrors beams forlorn and lights that fade; And sea goes washing round the dark rock where it stands, And fairy boats go by to gloaming lands All piled and twinkling in the gloom With hoarded sparks of orient fire 5 1O (*A Northern Venture: see i.204, footnote. Mr Douglas A. Anderson has kindly supplied me with s copy of the poem in this version, which had been very slightly altered from that published in The Stapeldon Magazine (Exeter College, Oxford), June 1920 (Carpenter, p. 268). -- Tailight in line 5 of the Leeds version is almost certainly an error, for Twilit, the reading of all the original texts.)

That divers won in waters of the unknown Sun -And, maybe, 'tis a throbbing silver lyre, Or voices of grey sailors echo up Afloat among the shadows of the world In oarless shallop and with canvas furled; For often seems there ring of feet and song Or twilit twinkle of a trembling gong. 15 0! happy mariners upon a journey long To those great portals on the Western shores Where far away constellate fountains leap, And dashed against Night's dragon-headed doors, In foam of stars fall sparkling in the deep. While I alone look out behind the Moon From in my white and windy tower, Ye bide no moment and await no hour, But chanting snatches of a mystic tune Go through the shadows and the dangerous seas Past sunless lands to fairy leas Where stars upon the jacinth wall of space Do tangle burst and interlace. Ye follow Earendel through the West, The shining mariner, to Islands blest; While only from beyond that sombre rim A wind returns to stir these crystal panes And murmur magically of golden rains That fall for ever in those spaces dim. 20 25 30 35 In The Hiding of Valinor (I. 215) it is told that when the Sun was first made the Valar purposed to draw it beneath the Earth, but that it was too frail and lissom; and much precious radiance was spilled in their attempts about the deepest waters, and escaped to linger as secret sparks in many an unknown ocean cavern. These have many elfin divers, and divers of the fays, long time sought beyond the outmost East, even as is sung in the song of the Sleeper in the Tower of Pearl. That 'The Happy Mariners' was in fact 'the song of the Sleeper in the Tower of Pearl' seems assured by lines 10 -- 13 of the poem. For 'Night's dragon-headed doors' see p. 273. The meaning of jacinth in the jacinth wall of space (line 31) is 'blue'; cf. the deep-blue walls in The Hiding of Valinor (I. 215).

Many years later my father rewrote the poem, and I give this version here. Still later he turned to it again and made a few further alterations (here recorded in footnotes); at this time he noted that the revised version dated from '1940?'. (2). I know a window in a Western tower that opens on celestial seas, and there from wells of dark behind the stars blows ever cold a keen unearthly breeze. It is a white tower builded on the Twilit Isles, and springing from their everlasting shade it glimmers like a house of lonely pearl, where lights forlorn take harbour ere they fade. 5 Its feet are washed by waves that never rest. There silent boats go by into the West all piled.and twinkling in the dark with orient fire in many a hoarded spark that divers won in waters of the rumoured Sun. There sometimes throbs below a silver harp, touching the heart with sudden music sharp; or far beneath the mountains high and sheer the voices of grey sailors echo clear, afloat among the shadows of the world in oarless ships and with their canvas furled, chanting a farewell and a solemn song: for wide the sea is, and the journey long. 1O 15 20 0 happy mariners upon a journey far, beyond the grey islands and past Gondobar, to those great portals on the final shores where far away constellate fountains leap, and dashed against Night's dragon-headed doors in foam of stars fall sparkling in the deep! While I, alone, look out behind the moon from in my white and windy tower, ye bide no moment and await no hour, but go with solemn song and harpers' tune through the dark shadows and the shadowy seas to the last land of the Two Trees, whose fruit and flower are moon and sun, where light of earth is ended and begun. 25 30 35 Last revisions: 3 and there omitted. 4 blows ever cold] there ever blows. 17 tp mountains] mountain. 22 the journey] their journey. 29 While I look out alone. 30 imprisoned in the white and windy tower. 31 ye] you. 33-6 struck through. Ye follow Earendel without rest, the shining mariner, beyond the West, who passed the mouth of night and launched his bark upon the outer seas of everlasting dark. Here only comes at whiles a wind to blow

returning darkly down the way ye go, with perfume laden of unearthly trees. Here only long afar through window-pane I glimpse the flicker of the golden rain that falls for ever on the outer seas. 40 45 I cannot explain the reference (in the revised version only, line 24) to the journey of the mariners 'beyond the grey islands and past Gondobar'. Condobar ('City of Stone') was one of the seven names of Gondolin (P 158). NOTES. 3. 4. Falasquil was the name of Tuor's dwelling on the coast (p. 152); the Oarni, with the Falmarini and the Wingildi, are called 'the spirits of the foam and the surf of ocean' (I. 66).2. Irilde: the 'Elvish' name corresponding to Gnomish Idril. See the Appendix on Names, entry Idril. 'Elwing of the Gnomes of Artanor' is perhaps a mere slip. For the Swan-wing as the emblem of Tuor see pp. 152, 164, 172, 5. 6. 7. 8. 9. 193. The words 'Idril has vanished' replace an earlier reading: 'Sirion has been sacked and only Littleheart (Ilfrith) remained who tells the tale.' Ilfrith is yet another version of Littleheart's Elvish name (see pp. 201 -- 2). Struck out here: 'The Sleeper is Idril but he does not know.' Cf. Kortirion among the Trees (I. 36, lines 129 -- 30): 'I need not know the desert or red palaces Where dwells the sun', lines retained slightly changed in the second (I937) version (I. 39). This passage, from 'Earendel distraught...', replaced the following: '[illegible name, possibly Orlon] is [?biding] there and tells him of the sack of Sirion and the captivity of Elwing. The faring of the Koreldar and the binding of Melko.' Perhaps the words 'The faring of the Koreldar' were struck out by mistake (cf. Outline B). Earum is emended (at the first occurrence only) from Earam; and following it stood the name Earnhama, but this was struck out. Earnhama is Old English, 'Eagle-coat', 'Eagle-dress'. 37 Ye] You. 40 outer omitted. 41 -- 3 struck through. 46 the] those line added at end: beyond the country of the shining Trees. 10. The two earliest extant texts date it thus, one of them with the addition 'Ex[eter] Coll[ege] Essay Club Dec. 1914', and on a third is written 'Gedling, Notts., Sept. 1913 [error for 1914] and later'. My father referred to having read 'Earendel' to the Essay Club in a letter to my mother of 27 November 1914.11. But rocks in line 27 (26) should read rock. 12. According to one note it was written at 'Barnt Green [see Biography p. 36] July 1915 and Bedford and later', and another note dates it 'July 24 [1915], rewritten Sept. g'. The original workings are on the back of an unsent letter dated from Moseley (Birmingham) July x i, 1915; my father began military training at Bedford on July 19.

VI. THE HISTORY OF ERIOL OR

AEFWINE AND THE END OF THE TALES. In this final chapter we come to the most difficult (though not, as I hope to show, altogether insoluble) part of the earliest form of the mythology: its end, with which is intertwined the story of Eriol/AElfwine -- and with that, the history and original significance of Tol Eressea. For its elucidation we have some short pieces of connected narrative, but are largely dependent on the same materials as those that constitute Cilfanon's Tale and the story of Earendel: scribbled plot-outlines, endlessly varying, written on separate slips of paper or in the pages of the little notebook 'C' (see p. 254). In this chapter there is much material to consider, and for convenience of reference within the chapter I number the various citations consecutively. But it must be said that no device of presentation can much diminish the inherent complexity and obscurity of the matter. The fullest account (bald as it is) of the March of the Elves of Kor and the events that followed is contained in notebook C, continuing on from the point where I left that outline on p. 255, after the coming of the birds from Gondolin, the 'counsels of the Gods and uproar of the Elves', and the 'March of the Inwir and Teleri', with the Solosimpi only agreeing to accompany the expedition on condition that they remain by the sea. The outline continues: (1) Coming of the Eldar. Encampment in the Land of Willows of first host. Overwhelming of Noldorin and Valwe. Wanderings of Noldorin with his harp. Tulkas overthrows Melko in the battle of the Silent Pools. Bound in Lumbi and guarded by Gorgumoth the hound of Mandos. Release of the Noldoli. War with Men as soon as Tulkas and: Noldorin have fared back to Valinor. Noldoli led to Valinor by Egalmoth and Galdor. There have been previous references in the Lost Tales to a battle in Tasarinan, the Land of Willows: in the Tale of Turambar (pp. 70, 140), and, most notably, in The Fall of Condolin (p. 154), where when Tuor's sojourn in that land is described there is mention of events that would take place there in the future:

Did not even after the days of Tuor Noldorin and his Eldar come there seeking for Dor Lomin and the hidden river and the caverns of the Gnomes' imprisonment; yet thus nigh to their quest's end were like to abandon it? Indeed sleeping and dancing here... they were whelmed by the goblins sped by Melko from the Hills of Iron and Noldorin made bare escape thence. Valwe has been mentioned once before, by Lindo, on Eriol's first evening in Mar Vanwa Tyalieva (I. 16): 'My father Valwe who went with Noldorin to find the Gnomes.' Of Noldorin we know also that he was the Vala Salmar, the twin-brother of Omar-Amillo; that he entered the world with Ulmo, and that in Valinor he played the harp and lyre and loved the Noldoli (1.66, 75, 93, 126). An isolated note states: {2) Noldorin escapes from the defeat of the Land of Willows and takes his harp and goes seeking in the Iron Mountains for Valwe and the Gnomes until he finds their place of imprisonment. Tulkas follows. Melko comes to meet him. The only one of the great Valar who is mentioned in these notes as taking part in the expedition to the Great Lands is Tulkas; but whatever story underlay his presence, despite the anger and sorrow of the. Valar at the March of the Elves (see p. 257), is quite irrecoverable. (A very faint hint concerning it is found in two isolated notes: 'Tulkas gives -- or the Elves take limpe with them', and 'Limpe' given by the Gods (Orome? Tulkas?) when Elves left Valinor', cf. The Flight of the Noldoli (I. 166): 'no limpe had they [the Noldoli] as yet to bring away, for that was not

given to the fairies until long after, when the March of Liberation was undertaken'.) According to (1) above Tulkas fought with and overthrew Melko 'in the battle of the Silent Pools', and the Silent Pools are the Pools of Twilight, 'where Tulkas after fought with Melko's self' {The Fall of Condolin, p. 195; the original reading here was 'Noldorin and Tulkas'). The name Lumbi is found elsewhere (in a list of names associated with the tale of The Coming of the Valar, I. 93), where it is said to be Melko's third dwelling; and a jotting in notebook C, sufficiently mysterious, reads: 'Lumfad. Melko's dwelling after release. Castle of Lumbi.' But this story also is lost. That the Noldoli were led back to Valinor by Egalmoth and Galdor, as stated in (1), is notable. This is contradicted in detail by a statement in the Name-list to The Fall of Condolin, which says (p. 215) that Egalmoth was slain in the raid on the dwelling at the mouth of Sirion when Elwing was taken; and contradicted in general by the next citation to be given, which denies that the Elves were permitted to dwell in Valinor. The only other statement concerning these events is found in the first of the four outlines that constitute Gilfanon's Tale, which I there called 'A' (I. 234). This reads: (3) March of the Elves out into the world. The capture of Noldorin. The camp in the Land of Willows. Army of Tulkas at the Pools of Twilight...... .. and [?many] Gnomes, but Men fall on them out of Hisilome. Defeat of Melko. Breaking of Angamandi and release of captives. Hostility of Men. The Gnomes collect some of the jewels. Elwing and most of the Elves go back to dwell in Tol Eressea. The Gods will not let them dwell in Valinor. This seems to differ from (1) in the capture of Noldorin and in the attack of Men from Hisilome before the defeat of Melko; but the most notable statement is that concerning the refusal of the Gods to allow the Elves to dwell in Valinor. There is no reason to think that this ban rested only, or chiefly, on the Noldoli. The text, (3), does not refer specifically to the Gnomes in this connection; and the ban is surely to be related to 'the sorrow and wrath of the Gods' at the time of the March of the Elves (p. 253). Further, it is said in The Cottage of Lost Play (I. 16) that Ingil son of Inwe returned to Tol Eressea with 'most of the fairest and the wisest, most of the merriest and the kindest, of all the Eldar', and that the town that he built there was named 'Koromas or "the Resting of the Exiles of Kor".' This is quite clearly to be connected with the statement in (3) that 'Most of the Elves go back to dwell in Tol Eressea', and with that given on p. 255: The wars with Men and the departure to Tol Eressea (the Eldar unable to endure the strife of the world)'. These indications taken together leave no doubt, I think, that my father's original conception was of the Eldar of Valinor undertaking the expedition into the Great Lands against the will of the Valar; together with the rescued Noldoli they returned over the Ocean, but being refused re-entry into Valinor they settled in Tol Eressea, as 'the Exiles of Kor'. That some did return in the end to Valinor may be concluded from the words of Meril-i-Turinqi (I. xag) that Ingil, who built Kortirion, 'went long ago back to Valinor and is with Manwe'. But Tol Eressea remained the land of the fairies in the early conception, the Exiles of Kor, Eldar and Gnomes, speaking both Eldarissa and Noldorissa. It seems that there is nothing else to be found or said concerning the original story of the coming of aid out of the West and the renewed assault on Melko. * The conclusion of the whole story as originally envisaged was to be

rejected in its entirety. For it we are very largely dependent on the outline in notebook C, continuing on from citation (1) above; this is extremely rough and disjointed, and is given here in a very slightly edited form. (4) After the departure of Earendel and the coming of the Elves to Tol Eressea (and most of this belongs to the history of Men) great ages elapse; Men spread and thrive, and the Elves of the Great Lands fade. As Men's stature grows theirs diminishes. Men and Elves were formerly of a size, though Men always larger.' Melko again breaks away, by the aid of Tevildo (who in long ages gnaws his bonds); the Gods are in dissension about Men and Elves, some favouring the one and some the other. Melko goes to Tol Eressea and tries to stir up dissension among the Elves (between Gnomes and Solosimpi), who are in consternation and send to Valinor. No help comes, but Tulkas sends privily Telimektar (Taimonto) his son.~ Telimektar of the silver sword and Ingil surprise Melko and wound him, and he flees and climbs up the great Pine of Tavrobel. Before the Inwir left Valinor Belaurin (Palurien)~ gave them a seed, and said that it must be guarded, for great tidings would one day come of its growth. But it was forgotten, and cast in the garden of Gilfanon, and a mighty pine arose that reached to Ilwe and the stars.' Telimektar and Ingil pursue him, and they remain now in the sky to ward it, and Melko stalks high above the air seeking ever to do a hurt to the Sun and Moon and stars (eclipses, meteors). He is continually frustrated, but on his first attempt -- saying that the Gods stole his fire for its making -- he upset the Sun, so that Urwendi fell into the Sea, and the Ship fell near the ground, scorching regions of the Earth. The clarity of the Sun's radiance has not been so great since, and something of magic has gone from it. Hence it is, and long has been, that the fairies dance and sing more sweetly and can the better be seen by the light of the Moon -because of the death of Urwendi. The 'Rekindling of the Magic Sun' refers in part to the Trees and in part to Urwendi. Fionwe's rage and grief. In the end he will slay Melko. 'Orion' is only the image of Telimektar in the sky? [sic] Varda gave him stars, and he bears them aloft that the Gods may know he watches; he has diamonds on his sword-sheath, and this will go red when he draws his sword at the Great End. But now Telimektar, and Gil~ who follows him like a Blue Bee, ward off evil, and Varda immediately replaces any stars that Melko loosens and casts down. Although grieved at the Gods' behest, the Pine is cut down; and

Melko is thus now out of the world -- but one day he will find a way back, and the last great uproars will begin before the Great End. The evils that still happen come about in this wise. The Gods can cause things to enter the hearts of Men, but not of Elves (hence their difficult dealings in the old days of the Exile of the Gnomes) and though Melko sits without, gnawing his fingers and gazing in anger on the world, he can suggest evil to Men so inclined -- but the lies he planted of old still grow and spread. Hence Melko can now work hurt and damage and evil in the world only through Men, and he has more power and subtlety with Men than Manwe or any of the Gods, because of his long sojourn in the world and among Men. In these early chartings we are in a primitive mythology, with Melko reduced to a grotesque figure chased up a great pine-tree, which is thereupon cut down to keep him out of the world, where he 'stalks high

above the air' or 'sits without, gnawing his fingers', and upsets the Sun-ship so that Urwendi falls into the Sea -- and, most strangely, meets her death. That Ingil (Gil) who with Telimektar pursues Melko is to be identified with Ingil son of Inwe who built Kortirion is certain and appears from several notes; see the Appendix on Names to Vol. I, entries Ingil, Telimektar. This is the fullest statement of the Orion-myth, which is referred to in the Tale of the Sun and Moon (see I. 182, 200): of Nielluin [Sirius] too, who is the Bee of Azure, Nielluin whom still may all men see in autumn or winter burning nigh the foot of Telimektar son of Tulkas whose tale is yet to tell. In the Gnomish dictionary it is said (I. 256) that Gil rose into the heavens and 'in the likeness of a great bee bearing honey of flame' followed Telimektar. This presumably represents a distinct conception from that referred to above, where Ingil 'went long ago back to Valinor and is with Manwe' (I. 129). With the reference to Fionwe's slaying of Melko 'in the end' cf. the end of The Hiding of Valinor (I. 219): Fionwe Urion, son of Manwe, of love for Urwendi shall in the end be, Melko's bane, and shall destroy the world to destroy his foe, and so shall all things then be rolled away. Cf. also the Tale of Turambar, p. 116, where it is said that Turambar 'shall stand beside Fionwe in the Great Wrack'. For the prophecies and hopes of the Elves concerning the Rekindling of the Magic Sun see pp.285 -- 6. The outline in C continues and concludes thus (again with some very slight and insignificant editing): (5) Longer ages elapse. Gilfanon is now the oldest and wisest Elf in Tol Eressea, but is not of the Inwir -- hence Meril-i-Turinqi is Lady of the Isle. Eriol comes to Tol Eressea. Sojourns at Kortirion. Goes to Tavrobel to see Gilfanon, and sojourns in the house of a hundred chimneys -- for this is the last condition of his drinking limpe. Gilfanon bids him write down all he has heard before he drinks. Eriol drinks limpe. Gilfanon tells him of things to be; that in his mind (although the fairies hope not) he believes that Tol Eressea will become a dwelling of Men. Gilfanon also prophesies concerning the Great End, and of the Wrack of Things, and of Fionwe, Tulkas, and Melko and the last fight on the Plains of Valinor. Eriol ends his life at Tavrobel but in his last days is consumed with longing for the black cliffs of his shores, even as Meril said. The book lay untouched in the house of Gilfanon during many ages of Men. The compiler of the Golden Book takes up the Tale: one of the children of the fathers of the fathers of Men. [Against this is written:] It may perhaps be much better to let Eriol himself see the last things and finish the book. Rising of the Lost Elves against the Orcs and Nautar.' The time is not ready for the Faring Forth, but the fairies judge it to be necessary. They obtain through Ulmo the help of Uin,~ and Tol Eressea is uprooted and dragged near to the Great Lands, nigh to the promontory of Ros. A magic bridge is cast across the intervening sound. Osse is wroth at the breaking of the roots of the isle he set so long ago -- and many of his rare sea-treasures grow about it -- that he tries to wrench it back; and the western half breaks off, and is now the Isle of Iverin. The Battle of Ros: the Island-elves and the Lost Elves against Nautar, Gongs,~ Orcs, and a few evil Men. Defeat of the Elves. The fading Elves retire to Tol Eressea and hide in the woods. Men come to Tol Eressea and also Orcs, Dwarves, Gongs,

Trolls, etc. After the Battle of Ros the Elves faded with sorrow. They cannot live in air breathed by a number of Men equal to their own or greater; and ever as Men wax more powerful and numerous so the fairies fade and grow small and tenuous, filmy and transparent, but Men larger and more dense and gross. At last Men, or almost all, can no longer see the fairies. The Gods now dwell in Valinor, and come scarcely ever to the world, being content with the restraining of the elements from utterly destroying Men. They grieve much at what they see; but Iluvatar is over all. On the page opposite the passage about the Battle of Ros is written: A great battle between Men at the Heath of the Sky-roof (now the Withered Heath), about a league from Tavrobel. The Elves and the Children flee over the Gruir and the Afros. 'Even now do they approach and our great tale comes to its ending.' The book found in the ruins of the house of a hundred chimneys. That Gilfanon was the oldest of the Elves of Tol Eressea, though Meril held the title of Lady of the Isle, is said also in the Tale of the Sun and Moon (I. 175): but what is most notable is that Gilfanon (not Ailios, teller of the Tale of the Nauglafring, whom Gilfanon replaced, see I. 197 note 19 and 229ff.) appears in this outline, which must therefore be late in the period of the composition of the Lost Tales. Also noteworthy are the references to Eriol's drinking limpe at Gilfanon's 'house of a hundred chimneys'. In The Cottage of Lost Play (I. 17) Lindo told Eriol that he could not give him limpe to drink: Turinqi only may give it to those not of the Eldar race, and those that drink must dwell always with the Eldar of the Island until such time as they fare forth to find the lost families of the kindred. Meril-i-Turinqi herself, when Eriol besought her for a drink of limpe, was severe (I. 98): If you drink this drink... even at the Faring Forth, should Eldar and Men fall into war at the last, still must you stand by us against the children of your kith and kin, but until then never may you fare away home though longings gnaw you... In the text described in I. 229 ff. Eriol bemoans to Lindo the refusal to grant him his desire, and Lindo, while warning him against 'thinking to overpass the bounds that Iluvatar hath set', tells him that Meril has not irrevocably refused him. In a note to this text my.father wrote: '... Eriol fares to Tavrobel -- after Tavrobel he drinks of limpe.' The statement in this passage of outline C that Eriol 'in his last days is consumed with longing for the black cliffs of his shores, even as Meril said' clearly refers to the passage in The Chaining of Melko from which I have cited above: On a day of autumn will come the winds and a driven gull, maybe, will wail overhead, and lo! you will be filled with desire, remembering the black coasts of your home. (I. 96). Lindo's reference, in the passage from The Cottage of Lost Play cited above, to the faring forth of the Eldar of Tol Eressea 'to find the lost families of the kindred' must likewise relate to the mentions in (5) of the Faring Forth (though the time was not ripe), of the 'rising of the Lost Elves against the Orcs and Nautar', and of 'the Island-elves and the Lost Elves' at the Battle of Ros. Precisely who are to be understood by the 'Lost Elves' is not clear; but in Gilfanon's Tale (I. 231) all Elves of the Great Lands 'that never saw the light at Kor' (Ilkorins), whether or not they left the Waters of Awakening, are called 'the lost fairies of the world', and this seems likely to be the meaning here. It must then be supposed that there dwelt on Tol Eressea only the Eldar of Kor (the 'Exiles') and the Noldoli released from thraldom under Melko; the Faring Forth was to be the great expedition from Tol Eressea for the rescue of those who had never departed from the Great Lands.

In (5) we meet the conception of the dragging of Tol Eressea back eastwards across the Ocean to the geographical position of England -- it becomes England (see I. 26); that the part which was torn off by Osse, the Isle of Iverin, is Ireland is explicitly stated in the Qenya dictionary. The promontory of Ros is perhaps Brittany. Here also there is a clear definition of the 'fading' of the Elves, their physical diminution and increasing tenuity and transparency, so that they become invisible (and finally incredible) to gross Mankind. This is a central concept of the early mythology: the 'fairies', as now conceived by Men (in so far as they are rightly conceived), have become so. They were not always so. And perhaps most remarkable in this remarkable passage, there is the final and virtually complete withdrawal of the Gods (to whom the Eldar are 'most like in nature', I. 57) from the concerns of 'the world', the Great Lands across the Sea. They watch, it seems, since they grieve, and are therefore not wholly indifferent to what passes in the lands of Men; but they are henceforward utterly remote, hidden in the West. Other features of (5), the Golden Book of Tavrobel, and the Battle of the Heath of the Sky-roof, will be explained shortly. I give next a separate passage found in the notebook C under the heading 'Rekindling of the Magic Sun. Faring Forth.' (6) The Elves' prophecy is that one day they will fare forth from Tol Eressea and on arriving in the world will gather all their fading kindred who still live in the world and march towards Valinor -through the southern lands. This they will only do with the help of Men. If Men aid them, the fairies will take Men to Valinor -- those that wish to go -- fight a great battle with Melko in Erumani and open Valinor.~ Laurelin and Silpion will be rekindled, and the mountain wall being destroyed then soft radiance will spread over all the world, and the Sun and Moon will be recalled. If Men oppose them and aid Melko the Wrack of the Gods and the ending of the fairies will result -- and maybe the Great End. On the opposite page is written: Were the Trees relit all the paths to Valinor would become clear to follow -- and the Shadowy Seas open clear and free -- Men as well as Elves would taste the blessedness of the Gods, and Mandos be emptied. This prophecy is clearly behind Vaire's words to Eriol (I. 19 -- 20): '... the Faring Forth, when if all goes well the roads through Arvalin to Valinor shall be thronged with the sons and daughters of Men.' Since 'the Sun and Moon will be recalled' when the Two Trees give light again, it seems that here 'the Rekindling of the Magic Sun' (to which the toast was drunk in Mar Vanwa Tyalieva, I. 17, 65) refers to the relighting of the Trees. But in citation (4) above it is said that 'the "Rekindling of the Magic Sun" refers in part to the Trees and in part to Urwendi', while in the Tale of the Sun and Moon (I. 179) Yavanna seems to distinguish the two ideas: 'Many things shall be done and come to pass, and the Gods grow old, and the Elves come nigh to fading, ere ye shall see the rekindling of these trees or the Magic Sun relit', and the Gods knew not what she meant, speaking of the Magic Sun, nor did for a long while after. Citation (xix) on p. 264 does not make the reference clear: Earendel 'returns from the firmament ever and anon with Voronwe to Kor to see if the Magic Sun has been lit and the fairies have come back'; but in the following isolated note the Rekindling of the Magic Sun explicitly means the re-arising of Urwendi: (7) Urwendi imprisoned by Moru (upset out of the boat by Melko and only the Moon has been magic since). The Faring Forth and the Battle of Erumani would release her and rekindle the Magic Sun. This 'upsetting' of the Sun-ship by Melko and the loss of the Sun's 'magic' is referred to also in (4), where it is added that Urwendi fell into the sea and met her 'death'. In the tale of The Theft of Melko it is said

(I. 151) that the cavern in which Melko met Ungweliant was the place where the Sun and Moon were imprisoned afterwards, for 'the primeval spirit Moru' was indeed Ungweliant (see I. 261). The Battle of Erumani is referred to also in (6), and is possibly to be identified with 'the last fight on the plains of Valinor' prophesied by Gilfanon in (5). But the last part of (5) shows that the Faring Forth came to nothing, and the prophecies were not fulfilled. There are no other references to the dragging of Tol Eressea across the Ocean by Uin the great whale, to the Isle of Iverin, or to the Battle of Ros; but a remarkable writing survives concerning the aftermath of the 'great battle between Men at the Heath of the Sky-roof (now the Withered Heath), about a league from Tavrobel' (end of citation (5)). This is a very hastily pencilled and exceedingly difficult text titled Epilogue. It begins with a short prefatory note: (8) Eriol flees with the fading Elves from the Battle of the High Heath (Ladwen-na-Dhaideloth) and crosses the Gruir and the Afros. The last words of the book of Tales. Written by Eriol at Tavrobel before he sealed the book. This represents the development mentioned as desirable in (5), that Eriol should 'himself see the last things and finish the book', but an isolated note in C shows my father still uncertain about this even after the Epilogue was in being: 'Prologue by the writer of Tavrobel [i.e., such a Prologue is needed] telling how he found Eriol's writings and put them together. His epilogue after the battle of Ladwen Daideloth is written.' The rivers Gruir and Afros appear also in the passage about the battle at the end of (g). Since it is said there that the Heath was about a league from Tavrobel, the two rivers are clearly those referred to in the Tale of the Sun and Moon: 'the Tower of Tavrobel beside the rivers' (I. 174, and see I.196 note 2). In scattered notes the battle is also called 'the Battle of the Heaven Roof' and 'the Battle of Dor-na-Dhaideloth'.~ I give now the text of the Epilogue: And now is the end of the fair times come very nigh, and behold, all the beauty that yet was on earth -- fragments of the unimagined loveliness of Valinor whence came the folk of the Elves long long ago -now goeth it all up in smoke. Here be a few tales, memories ill-told, of all that magic and that wonder twixt here and Eldamar of which I have become acquaint more than any mortal man since first my wandering footsteps came to this sad isle. Of that last battle of the upland heath whose roof is the wide sky -nor was there any other place beneath the blue folds of Manwe's robe so nigh the heavens or so broadly and so well encanopied -- what grievous things I saw I have told. Already fade the Elves in sorrow and the Faring Forth has come to ruin, and Iluvatar knoweth alone if ever now the Trees shall be relit while the world may last. Behold, I stole by evening from the ruined heath, and my way fled winding down the valley of the Brook of Glass, but the setting of the Sun was blackened with the reek of fires, and the waters of the stream were fouled with the war of men and grime of strife. Then was my heart bitter to see the bones of the good earth laid bare with winds where the destroying hands of men had tornthe heather and the fern and burnt them to make sacrifice to Melko and to lust of ruin; and the thronging places of the bees that all day hummed among the whins and whortlebushes long ago bearing rich honey down to Tavrobel -- these were now become fosses and [?mounds] of stark red earth, and nought sang there nor danced but unwholesome airs and flies of pestilence. Now the Sun died and behold, I came to that most magic wood where once the ageless oaks stood firm amid the later growths of beech and slender trees of birch, but all were fallen beneath the ruthless axes of unthinking men. Ah me, here was the path beaten with spells,

trodden with musics and enchantment that wound therethrough, and this way were the Elves wont to ride a-hunting. Many a time there have I seen them and Gilfanon has been there, and they rode like kings unto the chase, and the beauty of their faces in the sun was as the new morning, and the wind in their golden hair like to the glory of bright flowers shaken at dawn, and the strong music of their voices like the sea and like trumpets and like the noise of very many viols and of golden harps unnumbered. And yet again have I seen the people of Tavrobel beneath the Moon, and they would ride or dance across the valley of the two rivers where the grey bridge leaps the joining waters; and they would fare swiftly as clad in dreams, spangled with gems like to the grey dews amid the grass, and their white robes caught the long radiance of the Moon.............. and their spears shivered with silver flames. And now sorrow and..... has come upon the Elves, empty is Tavrobel and all are fled, [?fearing] the enemy that sitteth on the ruined heath, who is not a league away; whose hands are red with the blood of Elves and stained with the lives of his own kin, who has made himself an ally to Melko and the Lord of Hate, who has fought for the Orcs and Gongs and the unwholesome monsters of the world -blind, and a fool, and destruction alone is his knowledge. The paths of the fairies he has made to dusty roads where thirst [?lags wearily] and no man greeteth another in the way, but passes by in sullenness. So fade the Elves and it shall come to be that because of the encompassing waters of this isle and yet more because of their unquenchable love for it that few shall flee, but as men wax there and grow fat and yet more blind ever shall they fade more and grow less and those of the after days shall scoff, saying Who are the fairies -- lies told to the children by women or foolish men -- who are these fairies? And some few shall answer: Memories faded dim, a wraith of vanishing loveliness in the trees, a rustle of the grass, a glint of dew, some subtle intonation of the wind; and others yet fewer shall say..... 'Very small and delicate are the fairies now, yet we have eyes to see and ears to hear, and Tavrobel and Kortirion are filled yet with [? this] sweet folk Spring knows them and Summer too and in Winter still are they among us, but in Autumn most of all do they come out, for Autumn is: their season, fallen as they are upon the Autumn of their days. What shall the dreamers of the earth be like when their winter come. Hark 0 my brothers, they shall say, the little trumpets blow; wc, hear a sound of instruments unimagined small. Like strands of wind, like mystic half-transparencies, Gilfanon Lord of Tavrobel rides out tonight amid his folk, and hunts the elfin deer beneath the paling sky. A music of forgotten feet, a gleam of leaves, a sudden bending of the grass," and wistful voices murmuring on the bridge, and they are gone. But behold, Tavrobel shall not know its name, and all the land be changed, and even these written words of mine belike will all be lost; and so I lay down the pen, and so of the fairies cease to tell. Another text that bears on these matters is the prose preface to Kortirion among the Trees (1915), which has been given in Part I 25 -- 6, but which I repeat here: (9) Now on a time the fairies dwelt in the Lonely Isle after the great wars with Melko and the ruin of Gondolin; and they builded a fair city amidmost of that island, and it was girt with trees. Now this city they called Kortirion, both in memory of their ancient dwelling of Kor in Valinor, and because this city stood also upon a hill and had a great tower tall and grey that Ingil son of Inwe their lord let raise. Very beautiful was Kortirion and the fairies loved it, and it became rich in song and poesy and the light of laughter; but on a time the great Faring Forth was made, and the fairies had rekindled once more the Magic Sun of Valinor but for the treason and faint

hearts of Men. But so it is that the Magic Sun is dead and the Lonely Isle drawn back unto the confines of the Great Lands, and the fairies are scattered through all the wide unfriendly pathways of the world; and now Men dwell even on this faded isle, and care nought or know nought of its ancient days. Yet still there be some of the Eldar and the Noldoli of old who linger in the island, and their songs are heard about the shores of the land that once was the fairest dwelling of the immortal folk. And it seems to the fairies and it seems to me who know that town and have often trodden its disfigured ways that autumn and the falling of the leaf is the season of the year when maybe here or there a heart among Men may be open, and an eye perceive how is the world's estate fallen from the laughter and the loveliness of old. Think on Kortirion and be sad -- yet is there not hope? * At this point we may turn to the history of Eriol himself. My father's early conceptions of the mariner who came to Tol Eressea are here again no more than allusive outlines in the pages of the little notebook C, and some of this material cannot be usefully reproduced. Perhaps the earliest is collection of notes headed 'Story of Eriol's Life', which I gave in Vol. I. 23 -- 4 but with the omission of some features that were not there relevant. I repeat it here, with the addition of the statements previously omitted. (10) Eriol's original name was Ottor, but he called himself Waefre (Old English: 'restless, wandering') and lived a life on the waters. His father was named Eoh (Old English: 'horse'); and Eoh was slain by his brother Beorn, either 'in the siege' or 'in a great battle'. Ottor Waefre settled on the island of Heligoland in the North Sea, and wedded a woman named Cwen; they had two sons named Hengest and Horsa 'to avenge Eoh'. Then sea-longing gripped Ottor Waefre (he was 'a son of Earendel', born under his beam), and after the death of Cwen he left his young children. Hengest and Horsa avenged Eoh and became great chieftains; but Ottor Waefre set out to seek, and find, Tol Eressea (se uncupa holm, 'the unknown island'). In Tol Eressea he wedded, being made young by limpe (here also called by the Old English word lip), Naimi (Eadgifu), niece of Vaire, and they had a son named Heorrenda. It is then said, somewhat inconsequentially (though the matter is in itself of much interest, and recurs nowhere else), that Eriol told the fairies of Woden, punor, Tiw, etc. (these being the Old English names of the Germanic gods who in Old Scandinavian form are Odinn, Porr, Tyr), and they identified them with Manweg, Tulkas, and a third whose name is illegible but is not like that of any of the great Valar. Eriol adopted the name of Angol. Thus it is that through Eriol and his sons the Engle (i.e. the English) have the true tradition of the fairies, of whom the Iras and the Wealas (the Irish and Welsh) tell garbled things. Thus a specifically English fairy-lore is born, and one more true than anything to be found in Celtic lands. The wedding of Eriol in Tol Eressea is never referred to elsewhere; but his son Heorrenda is mentioned (though not called Eriol's son) in the initial link to The Fall of Gondolin (p. 145) as one who afterwards turned a song of Meril's maidens into the language of his people. A little more light will be shed on Heorrenda in the course of this chapter. Associated with these notes is a title-page and a prologue that breaks off after a few lines: (11) The Golden Book of Heorrenda being the book of the Tales of Tavrobel. Heorrenda of Haegwudu.

This book have I written using those writings that my father Waefre (whom the Gnomes named after the regions of his home Angol) did make in his sojourn in the holy isle in the days of the Elves; and much else have I added of those things which his eyes saw not afterward; yet are such things not yet to tell. For know Here then the Golden Book was compiled from Eriol's writings by his son Heorrenda -- in contrast to (5), where it was compiled by someone unnamed, and in contrast also to the Epilogue (8), where Eriol himself concluded and 'sealed the book'. As I have said earlier (I. 24) Angol refers to the ancient homeland of the 'English' before their migration across the North Sea (for the etymology of Angol/Eriol 'ironcliffs' see I. 24, 252). (12) There is also a genealogical table accompanying the outline (10) md altogether agreeing with it. The table is written out in two forms that are identical save in one point: for Beorn, brother of Eoh, in the one, there stands in the other Hasen of Isenora (Old English: 'iron shore'). But at the end of the table is introduced the cardinal fact of all these earliest materials concerning Eriol and Tol Eressea: Hengest and Horsa, Eriol's sons by Cwen in Heligoland, and Heorrenda, his son by Naimi in Tol Eressea, are bracketed together, and beneath their names is written: conquered feg ('seo unwemmede feg') now called Englaland and there dwell the Angolcynn or Engle. leg is Old English, 'isle', seo unwemmede leg 'the unstained isle'. I have mentioned before (I. 25, footnote) a poem of my father's written at Etaples in June 1916 and called 'The Lonely Isle', addressed to England: this poem bears the Old English title seo Unwemmede leg. (13) There follow in the notebook C some jottings that make precise identifications of places in Tol Eressea with places in England. First the name Kortirion is explained. The element Kor is derived from an earlier Qora, yet earlier Guord; but from Guord was also derived (i.e. in Gnomish) the form Gwar. (This formulation agrees with that in the Gnomish dictionary, see I. 257). Thus Kor = Gwar, andKortirion = *Gcvannindon (the asterisk implying a hypothetical, unrecorded form). The name that was actually used in Gnomish had the elements reversed, Mindon-Gwar. (Mindon, like Tirion, meant, and continued always to mean, 'tower'. The meaning of Kor/Gwar is not given here, but both in the tale of The Coming of the Elves (I. 122) and in the Gnomish dictionary (I. 257) the name is explained as referring to the roundness of the hill of Kor.) The note continues (using Old English forms): 'In Wielisc Caergwar, in Englisc Warwic.' Thus the element War- in Warwick is derived from the same Elvish source as Kor- in Kortirion and Gwar in MindonGwar.~ Lastly, it is said that 'Hengest's capital was Warwick'. Next, Horsa (Hengest's brother) is associated with Oxenaford (Old English: Oxford), which is given the equivalents Q[enya] Taruktarna and Gnomish,* Taruithorn (see the Appendix on Names, p. 347). The third of Eriol's sons, Heorrenda, is said to have had his 'capital' at Great Haywood (the Staffordshire village where my parents lived in 1916 -- 17, see I. 25); and this is given the Qenya equivalents Tavaros(se) and Taurosse, and the Gnomish Tavrobel and Tavrost; also 'Englisc [i.e. Old English) Haegwudu se greata, Greata Haegwudu'.~ These notes conclude with the statement that 'Heorrenda called Kor or Gwar "Tun".' In the context of these conceptions, this is obviously the Old English word tun, an enclosed dwelling, from which has developed the modern word town and the place-name ending -ton. Tun has appeared several times in the Lost Tales as a later correction, or alternative

to Kor, changes no doubt dating from or anticipating the later situation where the city was Tun and the name Kor was restricted to the hill on which it stood. Later still Tun became Tuna, and then when the city of the Elves was named Tirion the hill became Tuna, as it is in The Silmarillion; by then it had ceased to have any connotation of 'dwellingplace' and had cut free from all connection with its actual origin, as we see it here, in Old English tun, Heorrenda's 'town'. Can all these materials be brought together to form a coherent narrative? I believe that they can (granting that there are certain irreconcilable differences concerning Eriol's life), and would reconstruct it thus: The Eldar and the rescued Noldoli departed from the Great Lands and came to Tol Eressea. In Tol Eressea they built many towns and villages, and in Alalminore, the central region of the island, Ingil son of Inwe built the town of Koromas, 'the Resting of the Exiles of Kor' ('Exiles', because they could not return to Valinor); and the great tower of Ingil gave the town its name Kortirion. (See I. 16.) Ottor Waefre came from Heligoland to Tol Eressea and dwelt in the Cottage of Lost Play in Kortirion; the Elves named him Eriol or Angol after the 'iron cliffs' of his home. After a time, and greatly instructed in the ancient history of Gods, Elves, and Men, Eriol went to visit Gilfanon in the village of Tavrobel, and there he wrote down what he had learnt; there also he at last drank limpe.

In Tol Eressea Eriol was wedded and had a son named Heorrenda (Half-elven!). (According to (5) Eriol died at Tavrobel, consumed with longing for 'the black cliffs of his shores', but according to (8), certainly later, he lived to see the Battle of the Heath of the Sky-roof.) The Lost Elves of the Great Lands rose against the dominion of the servants of Melko; and the untimely Faring Forth took place, at which time Tol Eressea was drawn east back across the Ocean and anchored off the coasts of the Great Lands. The western half broke off when Osse tried to drag the island back, and it became the Isle of Iverin (= Ireland). Tol Eressea was now in the geographical position of England. The great battle of Ros ended in the defeat of the Elves, who retreated into hiding in Tol Eressea. Evil men entered Tol Eressea, accompanied by Orcs and other hostile beings. The Battle of the Heath of the Sky-roof took place not far from Tavrobel, and (according to (8)) was witnessed by Eriol, who completed the Golden Book. The Elves faded and became invisible to the eyes of almost all Men. The sons of Eriol, Hengest, Horsa, and Heorrenda, conquered the island and it became 'England'. They were not hostile to the Elves, and from them the English have 'the true tradition of the fairies'. Kortirion, ancient dwelling of the fairies, came to be known in the tongue of the English as Warwick; Hengest dwelt there, while Horsa dwelt at Taruithorn (Oxford) and Heorrenda at Tavrobel (Great Haywood). (According to (11) Heorrenda completed the Golden Book.) This reconstruction may not be 'correct' in all its parts: indeed, it may be that any such attempt is artificial, treating all the notes and jottings as of equal weight and all the ideas as strictly contemporaneous and relatable to each other. Nonetheless I believe that it shows rightly in essentials how my father was thinking of ordering the narrative in which the Lost Tales were to be set; and I believe also that this was the conception that still underlay the Tales as they are extant and have been given in these

books. For convenience later I shall refer to this narrative as 'the Eriol story'. Its most remarkable features, in contrast to the later story, are the transformation of Tol Eressea into England, and the early appearance of the mariner (in relation to the whole history) and his importance. In fact, my father was exploring (before he decided on a radical transformation of the whole conception) ideas whereby his importance would be greatly increased. (14) From very rough jottings it can be made out that Eriol was to be so tormented with home longing that he set sail from Tol Eressea with his son Heorrenda, against the command of Meril-i-Turinqi (see the passage cited on p. 284 from The Chaining of Melko); but his purpose in doing so was also 'to hasten the Faring Forth', which he 'preached' in the lands of the East. Tol Eressea was drawn back to the confines of the Great Lands, but at once hostile peoples named the Guidlin and the Brithonin (and in one of these notes also the Rumhoth, Romans) invaded the island. Eriol died, but his sons Hengest and Horsa conquered the Guio1in. But because of Eriol's disobedience to the command of Meril, in going back before the time for the Faring Forth was ripe, 'all was cursed'; and the Elves faded before the noise and evil of war. An isolated sentence refers to 'a strange prophecy that a man of good will, yet through longing after the things of Men, may bring the Faring Forth to nought . Thus the part of Eriol was to become cardinal in the history of the Elves; but there is no sign that these ideas ever got beyond this exploratory stage. I have said that I think that the reconstruction given above ('the Eriol story') is in essentials the conception underlying the framework of the Last Tales. This is both for positive and negative reasons: positive, because he is there still named Eriol (see p. 300), and also because Gilfanon, who enters (replacing Ailios) late in the development of the Tales, appears also in citation (5) above, which is one of the main contributors to this reconstruction; negative, because there is really nothing to contradict what is much the easiest assumption. There is no explicit statement anywhere in the Lost Tales that Eriol came from England. At the beginning (I. 13) he is only 'a traveller from far countries'; and the fact that the story he told to Veanne of his earlier life (pp. 4 -- 7) agrees well with other accounts where his home is explicitly in England does no more than show that the story remained while the geography altered -- just as the 'black coasts' of his home survived in later writing to become the western coasts of Britain, whereas the earliest reference to them is the etymology of Angol 'iron cliffs' (his own name, = Eriol, from the land 'between the seas', Angeln in the Danish peninsula, whence he came: see I. 252). There is in fact a very early, rejected, sketch of Eriol's life in which essential features of the same story are outlined -- the attack on his father's dwelling (in this case the destruction of Eoh's castle by his brother Beorn, see citation (10)), Eriol's captivity and escape -- and in this note it is said that Eriol afterwards 'wandered over the wilds of the Central Lands to the Inland Sea, Wendelsae[Old English, the Mediterranean], and hence to the shores of the Western Sea', whence his father had originally come. The mention in the typescript text of the Link to the Tale of Tinuviel (p. 6) of wild men out of the Mountains of the East, which the duke could see fromhis tower, seems likewise to imply that at this time Eriol's original home was placed in some 'continental' region. The only suggestion, so far as I can see, that this view might not be correct is found in an early poem with a complex history, texts of which I give here. The earliest rough drafts of this poem are extant; the original title was 'The Wanderer's Allegiance', and it is not clear that it was at first

conceived as a poem in three parts. My father subsequently wrote in subtitles on these drafts, dividing the poem into three: Prelude, The Inland City, and The Sorrowful City, with (apparently) an overall title The Sorrowful City; and added a date, March 16 -- 18, 1916. In the only later copy of the whole poem that is extant the overall title is The Town of Dreams and the City of Present Sorrow, with the three parts titled: Prelude (Old English Foresang), The Town of Dreams (Old English pat Slaepende Tun), and The City of Present Sorrow (Old English Seo Wepende Burg). This text gives the dates 'March 1916, Oxford and Warwick; rewritten Birmingham November 1916'. 'The Town of [ Dreams' is Warwick, on the River Avon, and 'The City of Present Sorrow' is Oxford, on the Thames, during the First War; there is no evident association of any kind with Eriol or the Lost Tales. Prelude In unknown days my fathers' sires Came, and from son to son took root Among the orchards and the river-meads And the long grasses of the fragrant plain: Many a summer saw they kindle yellow fires Of iris in the bowing reeds, And many a sea of blossom turn to golden fruit In walled gardens of the great champain. * There daffodils among the ordered trees Did nod in spring, and men laughed deep and long Singing as they laboured happy lays And lighting even with a drinking-song. There sleep came easy for the drone of bees Thronging about cottage gardens heaped with flowers; In love of sunlit goodliness of days There richly flowed their lives in settled hours -But that was long ago, And now no more they sing, nor reap, nor sow, And I perforce in many a town about this isle Unsettled wanderer have dwelt awhile. * The Town of Dreams. Here many days once gently past me crept In this dear town of old forgetfulness; Here all entwined in dreams once long I slept And heard no echo of the world's distress Come through the rustle of the elms' rich leaves, While Avon gurgling over shallows wove Unending melody, and morns and eves Slipped down her waters till the Autumn came, (Like the gold leaves that drip and flutter then, Till the dark river gleams with jets of flame That slowly float far down beyond our ken.) For here the castle and the mighty tower, More lofty than the tiered elms, More grey than long November rain, Sleep, and nor sunlit moment nor triumphal hour, Nor passing of the seasons or the Sun Wakes their old lords too long in slumber lain. No watchfulness disturbs their splendid dream, Though laughing radiance dance down the stream; And be they clad in snow or lashed by windy rains, Or may March whirl the dust about the winding lanes, The Elm robe and disrobe her of a million leaves Like moments clustered in a crowded year, Still their old heart unmoved nor weeps nor grieves,

Uncomprehending of this evil tide, Today's great sadness, or Tomorrow's fear: Faint echoes fade within their drowsy halls Like ghosts; the daylight creeps across their walls. * The City of Present Sorrow. There is a city that far distant lies And a vale outcarven in forgotten days -There wider was the grass, and lofty elms more rare; The river-sense was heavy in the lowland air. There many willows changed the aspect of the earth and skies Where feeding brooks wound in by sluggish ways, And down the margin of the sailing Thames Around his broad old bosom their old stems Were bowed, and subtle shades lay on his streams Where their grey leaves adroop o'er silver pools Did knit a coverlet like shimmering jewels Of blue and misty green and filtering gleams. * 0 aged city of an all too brief sojourn, I see thy clustered windows each one burn With lamps and candles of departed men. The misty stars thy crown, the night thy dress, Most peerless-magical thou dost possess My heart, and old days come to life again; Old mornings dawn, or darkened evenings bring The same old twilight noises from the town. Thou hast the very core of longing and delight, To thee my spirit dances oft in sleep Along thy great grey streets, or down A little lamplit alley-way at night -Thinking no more of other cities it has known, Forgetting for a while the tree-girt keep, And town of dreams, where men no longer sing. For thy heart knows, and thou shedst many tears For all the sorrow of these evil years. Thy thousand pinnacles and fretted spires Are lit with echoes and the lambent fires Of many companies of bells that ring Rousing pale visions of majestic days The windy years have strewn down distant ways; And in thy halls still doth thy spirit sing Songs of old memory amid thy present tears, Or hope of days to come half-sad with many fears. Lo! though along thy paths no laughter runs While war untimely takes thy many sons, No tide of evil can thy glory drown Robed in sad majesty, the stars thy crown. * In addition, there are two texts in which a part of The City of Present Sorrow is treated as a separate entity. This begins with '0 aged city of an all too brief sojourn', and is briefer: after the line 'Thinking no more of other cities it has known' it ends: Forgetting for a while that all men weep It strays there happy and to thee it sings 'No tide of evil can thy glory drown, Robed in sad majesty, the stars thy crown! ' This was first called The Sorrowful City, but the title was then changed to Winsele weste, windge reste rete berofene (Beowulf lines 2456 -- 7, very slightly adapted, the hall of feasting empty, the

resting places swept by the wind, robbed of laughter'). There are also two manuscripts in which The Town of Dreams is treated as a separate poem, with a subtitle An old town revisited; in one of these the primary title was later changed to The Town of Dead Days. Lastly, there is a poem in two parts called The Song of Eriol. This is found in three manuscripts, the later ones incorporating minor changes made to the predecessor (but the third has only the second part of the poem). The Song of Eriol Eriol made a song in the Room of the Tale-fire telling how his feet were . set to wandering, so that in the end he found the Lonely Isle and that fairest town Kortirion. In unknown days my fathers' sires Came, and from son to son took root Among the orchards and the river-meads And the long grasses of the fragrant plain: Many a summer saw they kindle yellow fires Of flaglilies among the bowing reeds, And many a sea of blossom turn to golden fruit In walled gardens of the great champain. There daffodils among the ordered trees Did nod in spring, and men laughed deep and long Singing as they laboured happy lays And lighting even with a drinking-song.

There sleep came easy for the drone of bees Thronging about cottage gardens heaped with flowers; In love of sunlit goodliness of days There richly flowed their lives in settled hours -But that was long ago, And now no more they sing, nor reap, nor sow; And I perforce in many a town about this isle Unsettled wanderer have dwelt awhile. Wars of great kings and clash of armouries, Whose swords no man could tell, whose spears Were numerous as a wheatfield's ears, Rolled over all the Great Lands; and the Seas Were loud with navies; their devouring fires Behind the armies burned both fields and towns; And sacked and crumbled or to flaming pyres Were cities made, where treasuries and crowns, Kings and their folk, their wives and tender maids Were all consumed. Now silent are those courts, Ruined the towers, whose old shape slowly fades, And no feet pass beneath their broken ports. There fell my father on a field of blood, And in a hungry siege my mother died, And I, a captive, heard the great seas' Rood Calling and calling, that my spirit cried For the dark western shores whence long ago had come Sires of my mother, and I broke my bonds, Faring o'er wasted valleys and dead lands Until my feet were moistened by the western sea, Until my ears were deafened by the hum, The splash, and roaring of the western sea -But that was long ago And now the dark bays and unknown waves I know, The twilight capes, the misty archipelago, And all the perilous sounds and salt wastes 'tween this isle

Of magic and the coasts I knew awhile. * One of the manuscripts of The Song of Eriol bears a later note: 'Easington 19I7 -- 18' (Easington on the estuary of the Humber, see Humphrey Carpenter, Biography, p. 97). It may be that the second part of ?he Song of Eriol was written at Easington and added to the first part (formerly the Prelude) already in existence. Little can be derived from this poem of a strictly narrative nature, save the lineaments of the same tale: Eriol's father fell 'on a field of blood', when 'wars of great kings... rolled over all the Great Lands', and his mother died 'in a hungry siege' (the same phrase is used in the Link to the Tale of Tinuviel, pp. 5 -- 6); he himself was made a captive, but escaped, and came at last to the shores of the Western Sea (whence his mother's people had come). The fact that the first part of The Song of Eriol is also found as the Prelude to a poem of which the subjects are Warwick and Oxford might make one suspect that the castle with a great tower overhanging a river in the story told by Eriol to Veanne was once again Warwick. But I do not think that this is so. There remains in any case the objection that it would be difficult to accommodate the attack on it by men out of the Mountains of the East which the duke could see from his tower; but also I think it is plain that the original tripartite poem had been dissevered, and the Prelude given a new bearing: my father's 'fathers' sires' became Eriol's 'fathers' sires'. At the same time, certain powerful images were at once dominant and fluid, and the great tower of Eriol's home was indeed to become the tower of Kortirion or Warwick, when (as will be seen shortly) the structure of the story of the mariner was radically changed. And nothing could show more clearly than does the evolution of this poem the complex root from which the story rose. Humphrey Carpenter, writing in his Biography of my father's life after he returned to Oxford in 1925, says (p. 169): He made numerous revisions and recastings of the principal stories in the cycle, deciding to abandon the original sea-voyager 'Eriol' to whom the stories were told, and instead renaming him 'AElfwine' or 'elf-friend'. That Eriol was (for a time) displaced by AElfawine is certain. But while it may well be that at the time of the texts now to be considered the name Eriol had actually been rejected, in the first version of 'The Silmarillion' proper, written in 1926, Eriol reappears, while in the earliest Annals of Valinor, written in the 1930s, it is said that they were translated in Tol Eressea 'by Eriol of Leithien, that is AElfwine of the Angelcynn'. On the other hand, at this earlier period it seems entirely justifiable on the evidence to treat the two names as indicative of different narrative projections -- 'the Eriol story' and 'the AEfwine story'. 'AElfwine', then, is associated with a new conception, subsequent to the writing of the Lost Tales. The mariner is AElfwine, not Eriol, in the second 'Scheme' for the Tales, which I have called 'an unrealised project for the revision of the whole work' (see I. 234). The essential difference may be made clear now, before citing the difficult evidence: Tol Eressea is now in no may identified with England, and the story of the drawing back of the Lonely Island across the sea has been abandoned. England is indeed still at the heart of this later conception, and is named Luthany.~ The mariner, AElfwine, is an Englishman sailing westward from the coast of Britain; and his role is diminished. For whereas in the writings studied thus far he comes to Tol Eressea before the denouement and disaster of the Faring Forth, and either he himself or his descendants witness the devastation of Tol Eressea by the invasion of Men and their evil allies (in one line of development he was even to be responsible for it, p. 294), in the later narrative outlines he does not arrive until all the grievous history is done. His part is only to learn and to record.~

I turn now to a number of short and very oblique passages, written on separate slips, but found together and clearly dating from much the same time. (15) AElfwine of England dwelt in the South-west; he was of the kin of Ing, King of Luthany. His mother and father were slain by the sea-pirates and he was made captive. He had always loved the fairies: his father had told him many things (of the tradition of Ing). He escapes. He beats about the northern and western waters. He meets the Ancient Mariner -- and seeks for Tol Eressea (seo unwemmede ieg), whither most of the unfaded Elves have retired from the noise, war, and clamour of Men. The Elves greet him, and the more so when they learn of him who he is. They call him Luthien the man of Luthany. He finds his own tongue, the ancient English tongue, is spoken in the isle. . The 'Ancient Mariner' has appeared in the story that Eriol told to Veanne {pp. 5, 7), and much more will be told of him subsequently. (16) AElfwine of Englaland, [added later: driven by the Normans,] arrives in Tol Eressea, whither most of the fading Elves have withdrawn from the world, and there fade now no more. Description of the harbour of the southern shore. The fairies greet him well hearing he is from Englaland. He is surprised to hear them speak the speech of AElfred of Wessex, though to one another they spoke a sweet and unknown tongue. The Elves name him Luthien for he is come from Luthany, as they call it ('friend' and 'friendship'). Eldaros or AElfham. He is sped to Ros their capital. There he finds the Cottage of Lost Play, and Lindo and Vaire. He tells who he is and whence, and why he has long sought for the isle (by reason of traditions in the kin of Ing), and he begs the Elves to come back to Englaland. Here begins (as an explanation of why they cannot) the series of stories called the Book of Lost Tales. In this passage (16) AElfwine becomes more firmly rooted in English history: he is apparently a man of eleventh-century Wessex -- but as in (15) he is of 'the kin of Ing'. The capital of the Elves of Tol Eressea is not Kortirion but Ros, a name now used in a quite different application from that in citation (5), where it was a promontory of the Great Lands. I have been unable to find any trace of the process whereby the name Luthien came to be so differently applied afterwards (Luthien Tinuviel). Another note of this period explains the name quite otherwise: 'Luthien or Lusion was son of Telumaith (Telumektar). AElfwine loved the sign of Orion, and made the sign, hence the fairies called him Luthien (Wanderer).' There is no other mention of AElfwine's peculiar association with Orion nor of this interpretation of the name Luthien; and this seems to be a development that my father did not pursue. It is convenient to give here the opening passage from the second Scheme for the Lost Tales, referred to above; this plainly belongs to the same time as the rest of these 'AElfwine' notes, when the Tales had been written so far as they ever went within their first framework. (17) AElfwine awakens upon a sandy beach. He listens to the sea, which is far out. The tide is low and has left him. AElfwine meets the Elves of Ros; finds they speak the speech of the English, beside their own sweet tongue. Why they do so -- the dwelling of Elves in Luthany and their faring thence and back. They clothe him and feed him, and he sets forth to walk along the island's flowery ways. The scheme goes on to say that on a summer evening AElfwine came to Kortirion, and thus differs from (16), where he goes to 'Ros their capital', in which he finds the Cottage of Lost Play. The name Ros seems to be used here in yet another sense -- possibly a name for Tol Eressea.

(18) He is sped to AElfham (Elfhome) Eldos where Lindo and Vaire tell him many things: of the making and ancient fashion of the world: of the Gods: of the Elves of Valinor: of Lost Elves and Men: of the Travail of the Gnomes: of Earendel: of the Faring Forth and the Loss of Valinor: of the disaster of the Faring Forth and the war with evil Men. The retreat to Luthany where Ingwe was king. Of the home-thirst of the Elves and how the greater number sought back to Valinor; The loss of Elwing. How a new home was made by the Solosimpi and others in Tol Eressea. How the Elves continually sadly leave the world and fare thither. For the interpretation of this passage it is essential to realise (the key indeed to the understanding of this projected history) that 'the Faring Forth' does not here refer to the Faring Forth in the sense in which it has been used hitherto -- that from Tol Eressea for the Rekindling of the Magic Sun, which ended in ruin, but to the March of the Elves of Kor and the 'Loss of Valinor' that the March incurred (see pp. 253, 257, 280). It is not indeed clear why it is here called a 'disaster': but this is evidently to be associated with 'the war with evil Men', and war between Elves and Men at the time of the March from Kor is referred to in citations (1) and (3). In 'the Eriol story' it is explicit that after the March from Kor the Elves departed from the Great Lands to Tol Eressea; here on the other hand 'the war with evil Men' is followed by 'the retreat to Luthany where Ingwe was king'. The (partial) departure to Tol Eressea is from Luthany; the loss of Elwing seems to take place on one of these voyages. As will be seen, the 'Faring Forth' of 'the Eriol story' has disappeared as an event of Elvish history, and is only mentioned as a prophecy and a hope. Schematically the essential divergence of the two narrative structures can be shown thus: (Eriol story). March of the Elves of Kor to the Great Lands War with Men in the Great Lands Retreat of the Elves to Tol Eressea (loss of Elwing) Eriol sails from the East (North Sea region) to Tol Eressea The Faring Forth, drawing of Tol Eressea to the Great Lands; ultimately Tol Eressea > England (AElfsvine story). March of the Elves of Kor to the Great Lands (called 'the Faring Forth') War with Men in the Great Lands Retreat of the Elves to Luthany (> England) ruled by Ingwe Departure of many Elves to Tol Eressea (loss of Elwing) AElfwine sails from England to Tol Eressea This is of course by no means a full statement of the AElfwine story, and is merely set out to indicate the radical difference of structure. Lacking from it is the history of Luthany, which emerges from the passages that now follow. (19) Luthany means 'friendship', Luthien 'friend'. Luthany the only land where Men and Elves once dwelt an age in peace and love.

How for a while after the coming of the sons of Ing the Elves throve again and ceased to fare away to Tol Eressea. How Old English became the sole mortal language which an Elf will speak to a mortal that knows no Elfin. (20) AElfwine of England (whose father and mother were slain by the fierce Men of the Sea who knew not the Elves) was a great lover of the Elves, especially of the shoreland Elves that lingered in the land. He seeks for Tol Eressea whither the fairies are said to have retired. He reaches it. The fairies call him Luthien. He learns of the making of the world,....... of Gods and Elves, of Elves and Men, down to the departure to Tol Eressea. How the Faring Forth came to nought, and the fairies took refuge in Albion or Luthany (the Isle of Friendship). Seven invasions. Of the coming of Men to Luthany, how each race quarrelled, and the fairies faded, until [? the most] set sail, after the coming of the Rumhoth, for the West. Why the Men of the seventh invasion, the Ingwaiwar, are more friendly. Ingwe and Earendel who dwelt in Luthany before it was an isle and was [sic] driven east by Osse to found the Ingwaiwar. (21) All the descendants of Ing were well disposed to Elves; hence the remaining Elves of Luthany spoke to [?them] in the ancient tongue of the English, and since some have fared..... to Tol Eressea that tongue is there understood, and all who wish to speak to the Elves, if they know not and have no means of learning Elfin speeches, must converse in the ancient tongue of the English. In (20) the term 'Faring Forth' must again be used as it is in (18), of the March from Kor. There it was called a 'disaster' (see p. 303), and here it is said that it 'came to nought': it must be admitted that it is hard to see how that can be said, if it led to the binding of Melko and the release of the enslaved Noldoli (see (1) and (3)). Also in (20) is the first appearance of the idea of the Seven Invasions of Luthany. One of these was that of the Rumhoth (mentioned also in (14)) or Romans; and the seventh was that of the Ingwaiwar, who were not hostile to the Elves. Here something must be said of the name Ing (Ingwe, Ingwaiar) in these passages. As with the introduction of Hengest and Horsa, the association of the mythology with ancient English legend is manifest. But it would serve no purpose, I believe, to enter here into the obscure . and speculative scholarship of English and Scandinavian origins: the Roman writers' term Inguaeones for the Baltic maritime peoples from whom the English came; the name Ingwine (interpretable either as Ing-wine 'the friends of Ing' or as containing the same Ingw-seen in Inguaeones); or the mysterious personage Ing who appears in the Old English Runic Poem: Ing waes aerest mid East-Denum gesewen secgum op he sippaneast ofer waeg gewat; waen after ran -- which may be translated: 'Ing was first seen by men among the East Danes, until he departed eastwards over the waves; his car sped after him.' It would serve no purpose, because although the connection of my father's Ing, Ingwe with the shadowy Ing (Ingw-) of northern historical legend is certain and indeed obvious he seems to have been intending no more than an association of his mythology with known traditions (though the words of the Runie Poem were clearly influential). The matter is made particularly obscure by the fact that in these notes the names Ing and Ingwe intertwine with each other, but are never expressly differentiated or identified. Thus AElfwine was 'of the kin of Ing, King of Luthany' (15, 16), but the Elves retreated 'to Luthany where Ingwe was king' (18). The Elves of

Luthany throve again 'after the coming of the sons of Ing' (19), and the Ingwaiwar, seventh of the invaders of Luthany, were more friendly to the Elves (20), while Ingwe 'founded' the Ingwaiwar (20). This name is certainly to be equated with Inguaeones (see above), and the invasion of the Ingwaiwar (or 'sons of Ing') equally certainly represents the 'AngloSaxon' invasion of Britain. Can Ing, Ingwe be equated? So far as this present material is concerned, I hardly see how they can not be. Whether this ancestor-founder is to be equated with Inwe' (whose son was Ingil) of the Lost Tales is another question. It is hard to believe that there is no connection (especially since Inwe' in The Cottage of Lost Play is emended from Ing, I.22), yet it is equally difficult to see what that connection could be, since Inwe of the Lost Tales is an Elda of Kor (Ingwe Lord of the Vanyar in The Silmarillion) while Ing(we) of 'the AElfwine story' is a Man, the King of Luthany and AElfwine's ancestor. (In outlines for Gilfanon's Tale it is said that Ing King of Luthany was descended from Ermon, or from Ermon and Elmir (the first Men, I. 236-7).) The following outlines tell some more concerning Ing(we) and the Ingwaiwar: (22) How Ing sailed away at eld [i.e. in old age] into the twilight, and Men say he came to the Gods, but he dwells on Tol Eressea, and will guide the fairies one day back to Luthany when the Faring Forth takes place.* (* The term 'Faring Forth' is used here in a prophetic sense, not as it is in (18) and (20).) How he prophesied that his kin should fare back again and possess Luthany until the days of the coming of the Elves. How the land of Luthany was seven times invaded by Men, until at the seventh the children of the children of Ing came back to their own. How at each new war and invasion the Elves faded, and each loved the Elves less, until the Rumhoth came -- and they did not even believe they existed, and the Elves all fled, so that save for a few the isle was empty of the Elves for three hundred years. (23) How Ingwe drank limpe at the hands of the Elves and reigned ages in Luthany. How Earendel came to Luthany to find the Elves gone. How Ingwe aided him, but was not suffered to go with him. Earendel blessed all his progeny as the mightiest sea-rovers of the world.~ How Osse made war upon Ingwe because of Earendel, and Ing longing for the Elves set sail, and all were wrecked after being driven far east. How Ing the immortal came among the Dani OroDani Urdainoth East Danes. How he became the half-divine king of the Ingwaiwar, and taught them many things of Elves and Gods, so that some true knowledge of the Gods and Elves lingered in that folk alone. Part of another outline that does not belong with the foregoing passages but covers the same part of the narrative as (23) may be given here: (24) Earendel takes refuge with [Ingwe] from the wrath of Osse, and gives him a draught of limpe (enough to assure immortality). He gives him news of the Elves and the dwelling on Tol Eressea. Ingwe and a host of his folk set sail to find Tol Eressea, but Osse blows them back east. They are utterly wrecked. Only Ingwe rescued on a raft. He becomes king of the Angali, Euti, Saksani, and Firisandi,* who adopt the title of Ingwaiwar. He teaches them much magic and first sets men's hearts to seafaring westward...... After a great [? age of rule] Ingwe sets sail in a little boat and is heard of no more. It is clear that the intrusion of Luthany, and Ing(we), into the

conception has caused a movement in the story of Earendel: whereas in the older version he went to Tol Eressea after the departure of the Eldar and Noldoli from the Great Lands (pp. 253, 255), now he goes to (* Angles, Saxons, Jutes, and Frisians.) Luthany; and the idea of Osse's enmity towards Earendel (pp. 254, 263) is retained but brought into association with the origin of the Ingwaiwar. It is clear that the narrative structure is: Ing(we) King of Luthany. Earendel seeks refuge with him (after [many of] the Elves have departed to Tol Eressea). Ing(we) seeks Tol Eressea but is driven into the East. Seven invasions of Luthany. The people of Ing(we) are the Ingwaiwar, and they 'come back to their own' when they invade Luthany from across the North Sea. (25) Luthany was where the tribes first embarked in the Lonely Isle for Valinor, and whence they landed for the Faring Forth,* whence [also] many sailed with Elwing to find Tol Eressea. That Luthany was where the Elves, at the end of the great journey from Palisor, embarked on the Lonely Isle for the Ferrying to Valinor, is probably to be connected with the statement in (20) that 'Ingwe and Earendel dwelt in Luthany before it was an isle'. (26) There are other references to the channel separating Luthany from the Great Lands: in rough jottings in notebook C there is mention of an isthmus being cut by the Elves, 'fearing Men now that Ingwe has gone', and 'to the white cliffs where the silver spades of the Teleri worked ., also in the next citation. (27) The Elves tell AElfwine of the ancient manner of Luthany, of Kortirion or Gwarthyryn (Caer Gwar)," of Tavrobel. How the fairies dwelt there a hundred ages before Men had the skill to build boats to cross the channel -- so that magic lingers yet mightily in its woods and hills. How they renamed many a place in Tol Eressea after their home in Luthany. Of the Second Faring Forth and the fairies' hope to reign in Luthany and replant there the magic trees -- and it depends most on the temper of the Men of Luthany (since they first must come there) whether all goes well. Notable here is the reference to 'the Second Faring Forth', which strongly supports my interpretation of the expression 'Faring Forth' in (18), (20), and (25); but the prophecy or hope of the Elves concerning (* In the sense of the March of the Elves from Kor, as in (18) and (20).) the Faring Forth has been greatly changed from its nature in citation (6): here, the Trees are to be replanted in Luthany. (28) How AElfwine lands in Tol Eressea and it seems to him like his own land made....... clad in the beauty of a happy dream. How the folk comprehended [his speech] and learn whence he is come by the favour of Ulmo. How he is sped to Kortirion. With these two passages it is interesting to compare (9), the prose preface to Kortirion among the Trees, according to which Kortirion was a city built by the Elves in Tol Eressea; and when Tol Eressea was brought across the sea, becoming England, Kortirion was renamed in the tongue of the English Warwick (13). In the new story, Kortirion is likewise an ancient dwelling of the Elves, but with the change in the fundamental conception it-is in Luthany; and the Kortirion to which AElfwine comes in Tol Eressea is the second of the name (being called 'after their home in Luthany'). There has thus been a very curious transference, which may be rendered schematically thus: (I) Kortirion, Elvish dwelling in Tol Eressea. Tol Eressea -- + England.

Kortirion = Warwick. (II) Kortirion, Elvish dwelling in Luthany (> England). Elves --> Tol Eressea. Kortirion (2) in Tol Eressea named after Kortirion (t) in Luthany.

On the basis of the foregoing passages, (15) to (28), we may attempt to construct a narrative taking account of all the essential features: March of the Elves of Kor (called 'the Faring Forth', or (by implication in 27) 'the First Faring Forth') into the Great Lands, landing in Luthany (25), and the Loss of Valinor (18). War with evil Men in the Great Lands (18). The Elves retreated to Luthany (not yet an island) where Ing(we) was king (18, 20). Many [but by no means all] of the Elves of Luthany sought back west over the sea and settled in Tol Eressea; but Elwing was lost (18, 25). Places in Tol Eressea were named after places in Luthany (27). Earendel came to Luthany, taking refuge with Ing(we) from the hostility of Osse (20, 23, 24). Earendel gave Ing(we) limpe to drink (24), or Ing(we) received limpe from the Elves before Earendel came (23). Earendel blessed the progeny of Ing(we) before his departure (23). Osse's hostility to Earendel pursued Ing(we) also (23, 24). Ing(we) set sail (with many of his people, 24) to find Tol Eressea (23, 24). Ing(we)'s voyage, through the enmity of Osse, ended in shipwreck, but Ing(we) survived, and far to the East [i.e. after being driven across the North Sea] he became King of the Ingwaiwar the ancestors of the Anglo-Saxon invaders of Britain (23, 24). Ing(we) instructed the Ingwaiwar in true knowledge of the Gods and Elves (23) and turned their hearts to seafaring westwards (24). He prophesied that his kin should one day return again to Luthany (22). Ing(we) at length departed in a boat (22, 24), and was heard of no more (24), or came to Tol Eressea (22). After Ing(we)'s departure from Luthany a channel was made so that Luthany became an isle (26); but Men crossed the channel in boats (27)Seven successive invasions took place, including that of the Rumhoth or Romans, and at each new war more of the remaining Elves of Luthany fled over the sea (20, 22). The seventh invasion, that of the Ingwaiwar, was however not hostile to the Elves (20, 21); and these invaders were 'coming back to their own' (22), since they were the people of Ing(we). The Elves of Luthany (now England) throve again and ceased to leave Luthany for Tol Eressea (19), and they spoke to the Ingwaiwar in their own language, Old English (21). AElfwine was an Englishman of the Anglo-Saxon period, a descendant of Ing(we), who had derived a knowledge of and love of the Elves from the tradition of his family (15, 16). AElfwine came to Tol Eressea, found that Old English was spoken there, and was called by the Elves Luthien 'friend', the Man of Luthany(the Isleof Friendship) (15, 16, 19). I claim no more for this than that it seems to me to be the only way in which these disjecta membra can be set together into a comprehensive narrative scheme. It must be admitted even so that it requires some forcing of the evidence to secure apparent agreement. For example, there

seem to be different views of the relation of the Ingwaiwar to Ing(we): they are 'the sons of Ing' (19), 'his kin' (22), 'the children of the children of Ing' (22), yet he seems to have become the king and teacher of North Sea peoples who had no connection with Luthany or the Elves (23, 24). (Over whom did he rule when the Elves first retreated to Luthany (18, 23)?) Again, it is very difficult to fit the 'hundred ages' during which the Elves dwelt in Luthany before the invasions of Men began (27) to the rest of the scheme. Doubtless in these jottings my father was thinking with his pen, exploring independent narrative paths; one gets the impression of a ferment of ideas and possibilities rapidly displacing one another, from which no one stable narrative core can be extracted. A complete 'solution' is therefore in all probability an unreal aim, and this reconstruction no doubt as artificial as that attempted earlier for 'the Eriol story' (see p. 293). But here as there I believe that this outline shows as well as can be the direction of my father's thought at that time. There is very little to indicate the further course of 'the AElfwine story' after his sojourn in Tol Eressea (as I have remarked, p. 301, the part of the mariner is only to learn and record tales out of the past); and virtually all that can be learned from these notes is found on a slip that reads: (29) How AElfwine drank of limpe but thirsted for his home, and went back to Luthany; and thirsted then unquenchably for the Elves, and went back to Tavrobel the Old and dwelt in the House of the Hundred Chimneys (where grows still the child of the child of the Pine of Belawryn) and wrote the Golden Book. Associated with this is a title-page: (30)The Book of Lost Tales and the History of the Elves of Luthany [?being] The Golden Book of Tavrobel the same that AElfwine wrote and laid in the House of a Hundred Chimneys at Tavrobel, where it lieth still to read for such as may. These are very curious. Tavrobel the Old must be the original Tavrobel in Luthany (after which Tavrobel in Tol Eressea was named, just as Kortirion in Tol Eressea was named after Kortirion = Warwick in Luthany); and the House of the Hundred Chimneys (as also the Pine of Belawryn, on which see p. 281 and note 4) was to be displaced from Tol Eressea to Luthany. Presumably my father intended to rewrite those passages in the 'framework' of the Lost Tales where the House of a Hundred Chimneys in Tavrobel is referred to; unless there was to be another House of a Hundred Chimneys in Tavrobel the New in Tol Eressea. Lastly, an interesting entry in the Qenya dictionary may be mentioned here: Parma Kuluinen 'the Golden Book -- the collected book of legends, especially of Ing and Earendel'. * In the event, of all these projections my father only developed the story of AElfwine's youth and his voyage to Tol Eressea to a full and polished form, and to this work I now turn; but first it is convenient to collect the passages previously considered that bear on it. In the opening Link to the Tale of Tinuviel Eriol said that 'many years agone', when he was a child, his home was 'in an old town of Men girt with a wall now crumbled and broken, and a river ran thereby over which a castle with a great tower hung'. My father came of a coastward folk, and the love of the sea that I had never seen was in my bones, and my father whetted my desire, for he told me tales that his father had told him before. Now my mother died in a cruel and hungry siege of that old town, and my father was slain in bitter fight about the walls, and in the end I Eriol escaped to the shoreland of the Western Sea. Eriol told then of

his wanderings about the western havens,... of how he was wrecked upon far western islands until at last upon one lonely one he came upon an ancient sailor who gave him shelter, and over a fire within his lonely cabin told him strange tales of things beyond the Western Seas, of the Magic Isles and that most lonely one that lay beyond.... 'Ever after,' said Eriol, 'did I sail more curiously about the western isles seeking more stories of the kind, and thus it is indeed that after many great voyages I came myself by the blessing of the Gods to Tol Eressea in the end...' In the typescript version of this Link it is further told that in the town where Eriol's parents lived and died there dwelt a mighty duke, and did he gaze from the topmost battlements never might he see the bounds of his wide domain, save where far to east the blue shapes of the great mountains lay -- yet was that tower held the most lofty that stood in the lands of Men. The siege and sack of the town were the work of 'the wild men from the Mountains of the East'. At the end of the typescript version the boy Ausir assured Eriol that 'that ancient mariner beside the lonely sea was none other than Ulmo's self, who appeareth not seldom thus to those voyagers whom he loves'; but Eriol did not believe him. I have given above (pp. 294 -- 5) reasons for thinking that in 'the Eriol story' this tale of his youth was not set in England. Turning to the passages concerned with the later, AElfivine story, we learn from (15) that AElfwine dwelt in the South-west of England and that his mother and father were slain by 'the sea-pirates', and from (20) that they were slain by 'the fierce Men of the Sea', from (16) that he was 'driven by the Normans'. In (15) there is a mention of his meeting with 'the Ancient Mariner' during his voyages. In (16) he comes to 'the harbour of the southern shore' of Tol Eressea; and in (17) he 'awakens upon a sandy beach' at low tide. I come now to the narrative that finally emerged. It will be observed, perhaps with relief, that Ing, Ingwe, and the Ingwaiwar have totally disappeared. AELFWINE OF ENGLAND. There are three versions of this short work. One is a plot-outline of less than 500 words, which for convenience of reference I shall call AElfwine A; but the second is a much more substantial narrative bearing the title AElfwine of England. This was written in 1920 or later: demonstrably not earlier, for my father used for it scraps of paper pinned together, and some of these are letters to him, all dated in February 1920.~ The third text no doubt began as a fair copy in ink of the second, to which it is indeed very close at first, but became as it proceeded a complete rewriting at several points, with the introduction of much new matter, and it was further emended after it had been completed. It bears no title in the manuscript, but must obviously be called AElfwine of England likewise. For convenience I shall refer to the first fully-written version as AElfwine I and to its rewriting as AElfwine II. The relation of AElfwine A to these is hard to determine, since it agrees in some respects with the one and in some with the other. It is obvious that my father had AElfwine I in front of him when he wrote AElfwine II, but it seems likely that he drew on AElfwine A at the same time. I give here the full text of AElfwine II in its final form, with all noteworthy emendations and all important differences from the other texts in the notes (differences in names, and changes to names, are listed separately). There was a land called England, and it was an island of the West, and before it was broken in the warfare of the Gods it was westernmost of all the Northern lands, and looked upon the Great Sea that Men of old called Garsecg,~ but that part that

was broken was called Ireland and many names besides, and its dwellers come not into these tales. All that land the Elves named Luthien~ and do so yet. In Luthien alone dwelt still the most part of the Fading Companies, the Holy Fairies that have not yet sailed away from the world, beyond the horizon of Men's knowledge, to the Lonely Island, or even to the Hill of Tun~' upon the Bay of Faery that washes the western shores of the kingdom of the Gods. Therefore is Luthien even yet a holy land, and a magic that is not otherwise lingers still in many places of that isle. Now amidmost of that island is there still a town that is aged among Men, but its age among the Elves is greater far; and, for this is a book of the Lost Tales of Elfinesse, it shall be named in their tongue Kortirion, which the Gnomes call Mindon Gwar.~ Upon the hill of Gwar dwelt in the days of the English a man and his name was Deor, and he came thither from afar, from the south of the island and from the forests and from the enchanted West, where albeit he was of the English folk he had long time wandered. Now the Prince of Gwar was in those days a lover of songs and no enemy of the Elves, and they lingered yet most of all the isle in those regions about Kortirion (which places they called Alalminore, the Land of Elms), and thither came Deor the singer to seek the Prince of Gwar and to seek the companies of the Fading Elves, for he was an Elf-friend. Though Deor was of English blood, it is told that he wedded to wife a maiden from the West, from Lionesse as some have named it since, or Evadrien 'Coast of Iron' as the Elves still say. Deor found her in the lost land beyond Belerion whence the Elves at times set sail. Mirth had Deor long time in Mindon Gwar, but the Men of the North, whom the fairies of the island called Forodwaith, but whom Men called other names, came against Gwar in those days when they ravaged wellnigh all the land of Luthien. Its walls availed not and its towers might not withstand them for ever, though the siege was long and bitter. There Eadgifu (for so did Deor name the maiden of the West, though it was not her name aforetime)~ died in those evil hungry days; but Deor fell before the walls even as he sang a song of ancient valour for the raising of men's hearts. That was a desperate sally, and the son of Deor was AElfwine, and he was then but a boy left fatherless. The sack of that town thereafter was very cruel, and whispers of its ancient days alone remained, and the Elves that had grown to love the English of the isle fled or hid themselves for a long time, and none of Elves or Men were left in his old halls to lament the fall of Oswine Prince of Gwar. Then AElfwine, even he whom the unfaded Elves beyond the waters of Garsecg did after name Eldairon of Luthien (which is

AElfwine of England), was made a thrall to the fierce lords of the Forodwaith, and his boyhood knew evil days. But behold a wonder, for AElfwine knew not and had never seen the sea, yet he heard its great voice speaking deeply in his heart, and its murmurous choirs sang ever in his secret ear between wake and sleep, that he was filled with longing. This was of the magic of Eadgifu, maiden of the West, his mother, and this longing unquenchable had been hers all the days that she dwelt in the quiet inland places among the elms of Mindon Gwar -- and amidmost of her longing was AElfwine her child born, and the Foamriders, the Elves of the Sea-marge, whom she had known of old in Lionesse, sent messengers to his birth. But now

Eadgifu was gone beyond the Rim of Earth, and her fair form lay unhonoured in Mindon Gwar, and Deor's harp was silent, but AElfwine laboured in thraldom until the threshold of manhood, dreaming dreams and filled with longing, and at rare times holding converse with the hidden Elves. At last his longing for the sea bit him so sorely that he contrived to break his bonds, and daring great perils and suffering many grievous toils he escaped to lands where the Lords of the Forodwaith had not come, far from the places of Deor's abiding in Mindon Gwar. Ever he wandered southward and to the west, for that way his feet unbidden led him. Now AElfwine had in a certain measure the gift of elfin-sight (which was not given to all Men in those days of the fading of the Elves and still less is it granted now), and the folk of Luthien were less faded too in those days, so that many a host of their fair companies he saw upon his wandering road. Some there were dwelt yet and danced yet about that land as of old, but many more there were that wandered slowly and sadly westward; for behind them all the land was full of burnings and of war, and its dwellings ran with tears and with blood for the little love of Men for Men -- nor was that the last of the takings of Luthien by Men from Men, which have been seven, and others mayhap still shall be. Men of the East and of the West and of the South and of the North have coveted that land and dispossessed those who held it before them, because of its beauty and goodliness and of the glamour of the fading ages of the Elves that lingered still among its trees beyond its high white shores.~ Yet at each taking of that isle have many more of the most ancient of all dwellers therein, the folk of Luthien, turned westward; and they have got them in ships at Belerion in the West and sailed thence away for ever over the horizon of Men's knowledge, leaving the island the poorer for their going and its leaves less green; yet still it abides the richest among Men in the presence of the Elves. And it is said that, save only when the fierce fathers of Men, foes of the Elves, being new come under the yoke of Evil,~ entered first that land, never else did so great a concourse of elfin ships and white-winged galleons sail to the setting sun as in those days when the ancient Men of the South set first their mighty feet upon the soil of Luthien -- the Men whose lords sat in the city of power that Elves and Men have called Rum (but the Elves alone do know as Magbar).~ Now is it the dull hearts of later days rather than the red deeds of cruel hands that set the minds of the little folk to fare away; and ever and anon a little ship~ weighs anchor from Belerion at eve and its sweet sad song is lost for ever on the waves. Yet even in the days of AElfwine there was many a laden ship under elfin sails that left those shores for ever, and many a comrade he had, seen or half-unseen, upon his westward road. And so he came at last to Belerion, and there he laved his weary feet in the grey waters of the Western Sea, whose great roaring drowned his ears. There the dim shapes of Elvish~ boats sailed by him in the gloaming, and many aboard called to him farewell. But he might not embark on those frail craft, and they refused his prayer -- for they were not willing that even one beloved among Men should pass with them' beyond the edge of the West, or learn what lies far out on Garsecg the great and measureless sea. Now the men who dwelt thinly about those places nigh Belerion were fishermen, and AElfwine abode long time amongst them, and being of nature shaped inly thereto he learned all that a man may of the craft of ships and of the sea. He recked little of his life, and he set his ocean-paths wider than most of those men,

good mariners though they were; and there were few in the end who dared to go with him, save AElfheah the fatherless who was with him in all ventures until his last voyage.~ Now on a time journeying far out into the open sea, being first becalmed in a thick mist, and after driven helpless by a mighty wind from the East, he espied some islands lying in the dawn, but he won not ever thereto for the winds changing swept him again far away, and only his strong fate saved him to see the black coasts of his abiding once again. Little content was he with his good fortune, and purposed in his heart to sail some time again yet further into the West, thinking unwitting it was the Magic Isles of the songs of Men that he had seen from afar. Few companions could he get for this adventure. Not all men love to sail a quest for the red sun or to tempt the dangerous seas in thirst for undiscovered things. Seven such found he in the end, the greatest mariners that were then in England, and Ulmo Lord of the Sea afterward took them to himself and their names are now forgotten, save AElfheah only.~ A great storm fell upon their ship even as they had sighted the isles of AElfwine's desire, and a great sea swept over her; but AElfwine was lost in the waves, and coming to himself saw no sign of ship or comrades, and he lay upon a bed of sand in a deep-walled cove. Dark and very empty was the isle, and he knew then that these were not those Magic Isles of which he had heard often tell." There wandering long, 'tis said, he came upon many hulls of wrecks rotting on the long gloomy beaches, and some were wrecks of many mighty ships of old, and some were treasureladen. A lonely cabin looking westward he found at last upon the further shore, and it was made of the upturned hull of a small ship. An ancient man dwelt there, and AElfwine feared him, for the eyes of the man were as deep as the unfathomable, sea, and his long beard was blue and grey; great was his stature, and his shoes were of stone,~ but he was all clad in tangled rags, sitting beside a small fire of drifted wood. In that strange hut beside an empty sea did AElfwine long abide for lack of other shelter or of other counsel, thinking his ship lost and his comrades drowned. But the ancient man grew kindly toward him, and questioned AElfwine concerning his coming and his goings and whither he had desired to sail before the storm took him. And many things before unheard did AElfwine hear tell of him beside that smoky fire at eve, and strange tales of wind-harried ships and harbourless tempests in the forbidden waters. Thus heard AElfwine how the Magic Isles were yet a great voyage before him keeping a dark and secret ward upon the edge of Earth, beyond whom the waters of Garsecg grow less troublous and there lies the twilight of the latter days of Fairyland. Beyond and on the confines of the Shadows lies the Lonely Island looking East to the Magic Archipelago and to the lands of Men beyond it, and West into the Shadows beyond which afar off is glimpsed the Outer Land, the kingdom of the Gods -- even the aged Bay of Faery whose glory has grown dim. Thence slopes the world steeply beyond the Rim of Things to Valinor, that is God-home, and to the Wall and to the edge of Nothingness whereon are sown the stars. But the Lonely Isle is neither of the Great Lands or of the Outer Land, and no isle lies near it. In his tales that aged man named himself the Man of the Sea, and he spoke of his last voyage ere he was cast in wreck upon this outer isle, telling how ere the West wind took him he had glimpsed afar off bosomed in the deep the twinkling lanterns of

the Lonely Isle. Then did AElfwine's heart leap within him, but he said to that aged one that he might not hope to get him a brave ship or comrades more. But that Man of the Sea said'. 'Lo, this is one of the ring of Harbourless Isles that draw all ships towards their hidden rocks and quaking sands, lest Men fare over far upon Garsecg and see things that are not for them to see. And these isles were set here at the Hiding of Valinor, and little wood for ship or raft does there grow on them, as may be thought;~ but I may aid thee yet in thy desire to depart from these greedy shores.' Thereafter on a day AElfwine fared along the eastward strands gazing at the many unhappy wrecks there lying. He sought, as often he had done before, if he might see perchance any sign or relic of his good ship from Belerion. There had been that night a storm of great violence and dread, and lo! the number of wrecks was increased by one, and AElfwine saw it had been a large and well-built ship of cunning lines such as the Forodwaith then loved. Cast far up on the treacherous sands it stood, and its great beak carven as a dragon's head still glared unbroken at the land. Then went the Man of the Sea out when the tide began to creep in slow and shallow over the long flats. He bore as a staff a timber great as a young tree, and he fared as if he had no need to fear tide or quicksand until he came far out where his shoulders were scarce above the yellow waters of the incoming flood to that carven prow, that now alone was seen above the water. Then AElfwine marvelled watching from afar, to see him heave by his single strength the whole great ship up from the clutches of the sucking sand that gripped its sunken stern; and when it floated he thrust it before him, swimming now with mighty strokes in the deepening water. At that sight AElfwine's fear of the aged one was renewed, and he wondered what manner of being he might be; but now the ship was thrust far up on the firmer sands, and the swimmer strode ashore, and his mighty beard was full of strands of sea-weed,,and sea-weed was in his hair. When that tide again forsook the Hungry Sands the Man of the Sea bade AElfwine go look at that new-come wreck, and going he saw it was not hurt; but there were within nine dead men who had not long ago been yet alive. They lay abottom gazing at the sky, and behold, one whose garb and mien still proclaimed a chieftain of Men lay there, but though his locks were white with age and his face was pale in death, still a proud man and a fierce he looked. 'Men of the North, Forodwaith, are they,' said the Man of the Sea, 'but hunger and thirst was their death, and their ship was flung by last night's storm where she stuck in the Hungry Sands, slowly to be engulfed, had not fate thought otherwise.' 'Truly do you say of them, 0 Man of the Sea; and him I know well with those white locks, for he slew my father; and long was I his thrall, and Orm men called him, and little did I love him.' 'And his ship shall it be that bears you from this Harbourless Isle,' said he; 'and a gallant ship it was of a brave man, for few folk have now so great a heart for the adventures of the sea as have these Forodwaith, who press ever into the mists of the West, though few live to take back tale of all they see.' Thus it was that AElfwine escaped beyond hope from that, island, but the Man of the Sea was his pilot and steersman, and so they came after few days to a land but little known.~ And the folk that dwell there are a strange folk, and none know how they came thither in the West, yet are they accounted among the kindreds of Men, albeit their land is on the outer borders of the

regions of Mankind, lying yet further toward the Setting Sun beyond the Harbourless Isles and further to the North than is that isle whereon AElfwine was cast away. Marvellously skilled are these people in the building of ships and boats of every kind and in the sailing of them; yet do they fare seldom or never to the lands of other folk, and little do they busy themselves with commerce or with war. Their ships they build for love of that labour and for the joy they have only to ride the waves in them. And a great part of that people are ever aboard their ships, and all the water about the island of their home is ever white with their sails in calm or storm. Their delight is to vie in rivalry with one another with their boats of surpassing swiftness, driven by the winds or by the ranks of their long-shafted oars. Other rivalries have,they with ships of great seaworthiness, for with these will they contest who will weather the fiercest storms (and these are fierce indeed about that isle, and it is iron-coasted save

for one cool harbour in the North). Thereby is the craft of their shipwrights proven; and these people are called by Men the Ythlings,~ the Children of the Waves, but the Elves call the island Eneadur, and its folk the Shipmen of the West.> Well did these receive AElfwine and his pilot at the thronging quays of their harbour in the North, and it seemed to AElfwine that the Man of the Sea was not unknown to them, and that they held him in the greatest awe and reverence, hearkening to his requests as though they were a king's commands. Yet greater was his amaze when he met amid the throngs of that place two of his comrades that he had thought lost in the sea; and learnt that those seven mariners of England were alive in that land, but the ship had been broken utterly on the black shores to the south, not long after the night when the great sea had taken AElfwine overboard. Now at the bidding of the Man of the Sea do those islanders with great speed fashion a new ship for AElfwine and his fellows, since he would fare no further in Orm's ship; and its timbers were cut, as the ancient sailor had asked, from a grove of magic oaks far inland that grew about a high place of the Gods, sacred to Ulmo Lord of the Sea, and seldom were any of them felled. 'A ship that is wrought of this wood,' said the Man of the Sea, 'may be lost, but those that sail in it shall not in that voyage lose their lives; yet may they perhaps be cast where they little think to come.' But when that ship was made ready that ancient sailor bid them climb aboard, and this they did, but with them went also Bior of the Ythlings, a man of mighty sea-craft for their aid, and one who above any of that strange folk was minded to sail at times far from the land of Eneadur to West or North or South. There stood many men of the Ythlings upon the shore beside that vessel; for they had builded her in a cove of the steep shore that looked to the West, and a bar of rock with but a narrow opening made here a sheltered pool and mooring place, and few like it were to be found in that island of sheer cliffs. Then the ancient one laid his hand upon her prow and spoke words of magic, giving her power to cleave uncloven waters and enter unentered harbours, and ride untrodden beaches. Twin rudder-paddies, one on either side, had she after the fashion of the Ythlings, and each of these he blessed, giving them skill to steer when the hands that held them failed, and to find lost courses, and to follow stars that were hid. Then he strode away,

and the press of men parted before him, until climbing he came to a high pinnacle of the cliffs. Then leapt he far out and down and vanished with a mighty flurry of foam where the great breakers gathered to assault the towering shores. AElfwine saw him no more, and he said in grief and amaze: 'Why was he thus weary of life? My heart grieves that he is dead,' but the Ythlings smiled, so that he questioned some that stood nigh, saying: 'Who was that mighty man, for meseems ye know him well,' and they answered him nothing. Then thrust they forth that vessel valiant-timbered" out into the sea, for no longer would AElfwine abide, though the sun was sinking to the Mountains of Valinor beyond the Western Walls. Soon was her white sail seen far away filled with a wind from off the land, and red-stained in the light of the half-sunken sun;.and those aboard her sang old songs of the English folk that faded on the sailless waves of the Western Seas', and now no longer came any sound of them to the watchers on the shore. Then night shut down and none on Eneadur saw that strong ship ever more.~ So began those mariners that long and strange and perilous voyage whose full tale has never yet been told. Nought of their adventures in the archipelagoes of the West, and the wonders and the dangers that they found in the Magic Isles and in seas and sound unknown, are here to tell, but of the ending of their voyage, how after a time of years sea-weary and sick of heart they found a grey and cheerless day. Little wind was there, and the clouds hung low overhead; while a grey rain fell, and nought could any of them descry before their vessel's beak that moved now slow and uncertain over the long dead waves. That day had they trysted to be the last ere they turned their vessel homeward (if they might), save only if some wonder should betide or any sign of hope. For their heart was gone. Behind them lay the Magic Isles where three of their number slept upon dim strands in deadly sleep, and their heads were pillowed on white sand and they were clad in foam, wrapped about in the agelong spells of Eglavain. Fruitless had been all their journeys since, for ever the winds had cast them back without sight of the shores of the Island of the Elves.~ Then said AlEfheah'4 who held the helm: 'Now, 0 AElfwine, is the trysted time! Let us do as the Gods and their winds have long desired -- cease from our heart-weary quest for nothingness, a fable in the void, and get us back if the Gods will it seeking the hearths of our home.' And AElfwine yielded. Then fell the wind and no breath came from East or West, and night came slowly over the sea. Behold, at length a gentle breeze sprang up, and it came softly from the West; and even as they would fill their sails therewith for home, one of those shipmen on a sudden said: 'Nay, but this is a strange air, and full of scented memories,' and standing still they all breathed deep. The mists gave before that gentle wind, and a thin moon they might see riding in its tattered shreds, until behind it soon a thousand cool stars peered forth in the dark. 'The night-flowers are opening in Faery,' said AElfwine; 'and behold,' said Bior," 'the Elves are kindling candles in their silver dusk,' and all looked whither his long hand pointed over their dark stern. Then none spoke for wonder and amaze, seeing deep in the gloaming of the West a blue shadow, and in the blue shadow many glittering lights, and ever more and more of them came twinkling out, until ten thousand points of flickering radiance were splintered far away as if a dust of the jewels self-luminous that Feanor made were scattered on the lap of the Ocean. 'Then is that the Harbour of the Lights of Many Hues,' said

AElfheah, 'that many a little-heeded tale has told of in our homes.' Then saying no more they shot out their oars and swung about their ship in haste, and pulled towards the neverdying shore. Near had they come to abandoning it when hardly won. Little did they make of that long pull, as they thrust the water strongly by them, and the long night of Faerie held on, and the horned moon of Elfinesse rode over them. Then came there music very gently over the waters and it was laden with unimagined longing, that AElfwine and his comrades leant upon their oars and wept softly each for his heart's halfremembered hurts, and memory of fair things long lost, and each for the thirst that is in every child of Men for the flawless loveliness they seek and do not find. And one said: 'It is the harps that are thrumming, and the songs they are singing of fair things; and the windows that look upon the sea are full of light.' And another said: 'Their stringed violins complain the ancient woes of the immortal folk of Earth, but there is a joy therein.' 'Ah me,' said AElfwine, 'I hear the horns of the Fairies shimmering in magic woods -- such music as I once dimly guessed long years ago beneath the elms of Mindon Gwar.' And lo! as they spoke thus musing the moon hid himself, and the stars were clouded, and the mists of time veiled the shore, and nothing could they see and nought more hear, save the sound of the surf of the seas in the far-off pebbles of the Lonely Isle; and soon the wind blew even that faint rustle far away. But AElfwine stood forward with wide-open eyes unspeaking, and suddenly with a great cry he sprang forward into the dark sea, and the waters that filled him were warm, and a kindly death it seemed enveloped him. Then it seemed to the others that they awakened at his voice as from a dream; but the wind now suddenly grown fierce filled all their sails, and they saw him never again, but were driven back with hearts all broken with regret and longing. Pale elfin boats awhile they would see beating home, maybe, to the Haven of Many Hues, and they hailed them; but only faint echoes afar off were borne to their ears, and none led them ever to the land of their desire; who after a great time wound back all the mazy. clue of their long tangled ways, until they cast anchor at last in the haven of Belerion, aged and wayworn men. And the things they had seen and heard seemed after to them a mirage, and a phantasy, born of hunger and sea-spells, save only to Bior of Eneadur of the Ship-folk of the West. Yet among the seed of these men has there been many a restless and wistful spirit thereafter, since they were dead and passed beyond the Rim of Earth without need of boat or sail. But never while life lasted did they leave their sea-faring, and their bodies are all covered by the sea.~ The narrative ends here. There is no trace of any further continuation, though it seems likely that AElfwine of England was to be the beginning of a complete rewriting of the Lost Tales. It would be interesting to know for certain when AElfwine II was written. The handwriting of the manuscript is certainly changed from that of the rest of the Last Tales; yet I am inclined to think that it followed AElfwine I at no great interval, and the first version is unlikely to be much later than 1920 (see p. 3I2). At the end of AElfwine II my father jotted down two suggestions: (1) that AElfwine should be made 'an early pagan Englishman who fled to the West'; and (2) that 'the Isle of the Old Man' should be cut out and all should be shipwrecked on Eneadur, the Isle of the Ythlings. The latter would (astonishingly) have entailed the abandonment of the foundered ship, with the Man of the Sea thrusting it to shore on the incoming tide, and the dead Vikings 'lying abottom gazing at the sky'.

In this narrative -- in which the 'magic' of the early Elves is most intensely conveyed, in the seamen's vision of the Lonely Isle beneath 'the horned moon of Elfinesse' -- AElfwine is still placed in the context of the figures of ancient English legend: his father is Deor the Minstrel. In the great Anglo-Saxon manuscript known as the Exeter Book there is a little poem of 42 lines to which the title of Deor is now given. It is an utterance of the minstrel Deor, who, as he tells, has lost his place and been supplanted in his lord's favour by another bard, named Heorrenda; in the body of the poem Deor draws examples from among the great misfortunes recounted in the heroic legends, and is comforted by them, concluding each allusion with the fixed refrain paes ofereode; pisses swa maeg, which has been variously translated; my father held that it meant 'Time has passed since then, this too can pass'.~ From this poem came both Deor and Heorrenda. In 'the Eriol story' Heorrenda was Eriol's son born in Tol Eressea of his wife Naimi (p. 290), and was associated with Hengest and Horsa in the conquest of the Lonely Isle (p. 291); his dwelling in England was at Tavrobel (p. 292). I do not think that my father's Deor the Minstrel of Kortirion and Heorrenda of Tavrobel can be linked more closely to the Anglo-Saxon poem than in the names alone -- though he did not take the names at random. He was moved by the glimpsed tale (even if, in the words of one of the poem's editors, 'the autobiographical element is purely fictitious, serving only as a pretext for the enumeration of the heroic stories'); and when lecturing on Beowulf at Oxford he sometimes gave the unknown poet a name, calling him Heorrenda. Nor, as I believe, can any more be made of the other Old English names in the narrative: Oswine prince of Gwar, Eadgifu, AElfheah (though the names are doubtless in themselves 'significant'. thus Oswine contains os 'god' and wine 'friend', and Eadgifu ead 'blessedness' and gifu 'gift'). The Forodwaith are of course Viking invaders from Norway or Denmark; the name Orm of the dead ship's captain is well-known in Norse. But all this is a mise-en-scene that is historical only in its bearings, not in its structure. The idea of the seven invasions of Luthien (Luthany) remained (p. 314), and that of the fading and westward flight of the Elves (which indeed was never finally lost),~ but whereas in the outlines the invasion of the Ingwaiwar (i.e. the Anglo-Saxons) was the seventh (see citations (20) and (22)), here the Viking invasions are portrayed as coming upon the English -- 'nor was that the last of the takings of Luthien by Men from Men' (p. 314), obviously a reference to the Normans. There is much of interest in the 'geographical' references in the story. At the very beginning there is a curious statement about the breaking off of Ireland 'in the warfare of the Gods'. Seeing that 'the AElfwine story' does not include the idea of the drawing back of Tol Eressea eastwards across the sea, this must refer to something quite other than the story in (5), p. 283, where the Isle of fverin was broken off when Osse tried to wrench back Tol Eressea. What this was I do not know; but it seems conceivable that this is the first trace or hint of the great cataclysm at the end of the Elder Days, when Beleriand was drowned. (I have found no trace of any connection between the harbour of Belerion and the region of Beleriand.) Kortirion (Mindon Gwar) is in this tale of course 'Kortirion the Old', the original Elvish dwelling in Luthien, after which Kortirion in Tol Eressea was named (see pp. 308, 310); in the same way we must suppose that the name Alalminore (p. 3I3) for the region about it ('Warwickshire') was given anew to the midmost region of Tol Eressea. Turning to the question of the islands and archipelagoes in the Great Sea, what is said in AElfwine of England may first be compared with the passages of geographical description in The Coming of the Valar (1.68) and The Coming of the Elves (I. 125), which are closely similar

the one to the other. From these passages we learn that there are many lands and islands in the Great Sea before the Magic Isles are reached; beyond the Magic Isles is Tol Eressea; and beyond Tol Eressea are the Shadowy Seas, 'whereon there float the Twilit Isles', the first of the Outer Lands. Tol Eressea itself 'is held neither of the Outer Lands or of the Great Lands' (I. 125); it is far out in mid-ocean, and 'no land may be seen for many leagues' sail from its cliffs' (I.121). With this account AElfwine of England agrees closely; but to it is added now the archipelago of the Harbourless Isles. As I have noted before (I. 137), this progression from East to West of Harbourless Isles, Magic Isles, the Lonely Isle, and then the Shadowy Seas in which were the Twilit Isles, was afterwards changed, and it is said in The Silmarillion (p. 102) that at the time of the Hiding of Valinor the Enchanted Isles were set, and all the seas about them were filled with shadows and bewilderment. And these isles were strung as a net in the Shadowy Seas from the north to the south, before Tol Eressea, the Lonely Isle, is reached by one sailing west. Hardly might any vessel pass between them, for in the dangerous sounds the waves sighed for ever upon dark rocks shrouded in mist. And in the twilight a great weariness came upon mariners and a loathing of the sea; but all that ever set foot upon the islands were there entrapped, and slept until the Change of the World. As a conception, the Enchanted Isles are derived primarily from the old Magic Isles, set at the time of the Hiding of Valinor and described in that Tale (I. 211): 'Osse set them in a great ring about the western limits of the mighty sea, so that they guarded the Bay of Faery', and all such as stepped thereon came never thence again, but being woven in the nets of Oinen's hair the Lady of the Sea, and whelmed in agelong slumber that Lorien set there, lay upon the margin of the waves, as those do who being drowned are cast up once more by the movements of the sea; yet rather did these hapless ones sleep unfathomably and the dark waters laved their limbs... Here three of AElfwine's companions slept upon dim strands in deadly sleep, and their heads were pillowed on white sand and they were clad in foam, wrapped about in the agelong spells of Eglavain (p. 320). (I do not know the meaning of the name Eglavain, but since it clearly contains Egla (Gnomish, = Elda, see I.251) it perhaps meant 'Elfinesse'.) But the Enchanted Isles derive also perhaps from the Twilit Isles, since the Enchanted Isles were likewise in twilight and were set in the Shadowy Seas (cf. I. 224); and from the Harbourless Isles as well, which, as AElfwine was told by the Man of the Sea (p. 3 I 7), were set at the time of the Hiding of Valinor -- and indeed served the same purpose as did the Magic Isles, though lying far further to the East. Eneadur, the isle of the Ythlings (Old English jd 'wave'), whose life is so fully described in AEflwine of England, seems never to have been mentioned again. Is there in Eneadur and the Shipmen of the West perhaps some faint foreshadowing of the early Numenoreans in their cliff-girt isle ? The following passage (pp. 316 -- 17) is not easy to interpret: Thence [i.e. from the Bay of Faery] slopes the world steeply beyond the Rim of Things to Valinor, that is God-home, and to the Wall and to the edge of Nothingness whereon are sown the stars. In the Ambarkanta or 'Shape of the World' of the 1930s a map of the world shows the surface of the Outer Land sloping steeply westwards from the Mountains of Valinor. Conceivably it is to this slope that my father was referring here, and the Rim of Things is the great mountainwall; but this seems very improbable. There are also references in AElfwine of England to 'the Rim of Earth', beyond which the dead pass (pp. 314, 322); and in an outline for the Tale of Earendel (p. 260) Tuor's boat 'dips over the world's rim'. More likely, I think, the

expression refers to the rim of the horizon ('the horizon of Men's knowledge', p. 313). The expression 'the sun was sinking to the Mountains of Valinor beyond the Western Walls' (p. 320) I am at a loss to explain according to what has been told in the Lost Tales. A possible, though scarcely convincing, interpretation is that the sun was sinking towards Valinor, whence it mould pass 'beyond the Western Walls' (i.e. through the Door of Night, see I. 215 -- 16). Lastly, the suggestion (p. 313) is notable that the Elves sailing west from Luthien might go beyond the Lonely Isle and reach even back to Valinor; on this matter see p. 280 Before ending, there remains to discuss briefly a matter of a general nature that has many times been mentioned in the texts, and especially in these last chapters: that of the 'diminutiveness' of the Elves. It is said several times in the last Tales that the Elves of the ancient days were of greater bodily stature than they afterwards became. Thus in ?he Fall of Condolin (p. 159): 'The fathers of the fathers of Men were of less stature than Men now are, and the children of Elfinesse of greater growth'; in an outline for the abandoned tale of Gilfanon (I. 235) very similarly: 'Men were almost of a stature at first with Elves, the fairies being far greater and Men smaller than now'; and in citation (4) in the present chapter: 'Men and Elves were formerly of a size, though Men always larger.' Other passages suggest that the ancient Elves were of their nature of at any rate somewhat slighter build (see pp. 142, 220). The diminishing in the stature of the Elves of later times is very explicitly related to the coming of Men. Thus in (4) above: 'Men spread and thrive, and the Elves of the Great Lands fade. As Men's stature grows theirs diminishes -, and in (5): ever as Men wax more powerful and numerous so the fairies fade and grow small and tenuous, filmy and transparent, but Men larger and more dense and gross. At last Men, or almost all, can no longer see the fairies.' The clearest picture that survives of the Elves when they have 'faded' altogether is given in the Epilogue (p. 289): Like strands of wind, like mystic half-transparencies, Gilfanon Lord of Tavrobel rides out tonight amid his folk, and hunts the elfin deer beneath the paling sky. A music of forgotten feet, a gleam of leaves, a sudden bending of the grass, and wistful voices murmuring on the bridge, and they are gone. But according to the passages bearing on the later 'AElfwine' version, the Elves of Tol Eressea who had left Luthany were unfaded, or had ceased to fade. Thus in (15): Tol Eressea, whither most of the unfaded Elves have retired from the noise, war, and clamour of Men'; and (16): 'Tol Eressea, whither most of the fading Elves have withdrawn from the world, and there fade now no more'; also in AElfwine of England (p. 3I3): 'the unfaded Elves beyond the waters of Garsecg'. On the other hand, when Eriol came to the Cottage of Lost Play the doorward said to him (I. 14): Small is the dwelling, but smaller still are they that dwell here -- for all who enter must be very small indeed, or of their own good wish become as very little folk even as they stand upon the threshold.

I have commented earlier (I. 32) on the oddity of the idea that the Cottage and its inhabitants were peculiarly small, in an island entirely inhabited by Elves. But my father, if he had ever rewritten The Cottage of Lost Play, would doubtless have abandoned this; and it may well be that he was in any case turning away already at the time of AElfwine II from the idea that the 'faded' Elves were diminutive, as is suggested by his rejection of the word 'little' in 'little folk', 'little ships' (see note 27). Ultimately, of course, the Elves shed all associations and qualities that

would be now commonly considered 'fairylike', and those who remained in the Great Lands in Ages of the world at this time unconceived were to grow greatly in stature and in power: there was nothing filmy or transparent about the heroic or majestic Eldar of the Third Age of Middleearth. Long afterwards my father would write, in a wrathful comment on a 'pretty' or 'ladylike' pictorial rendering of Legolas: He was tall as a young tree, lithe, immensely strong, able swiftly to draw a great war-bow and shoot down a Nazgul, endowed with the tremendous vitality of Elvish bodies, so hard and resistant to hurt that he went only in light shoes over rock or through snow, the most tireless of all the Fellowship. This brings to an end my rendering and analysis of the early writings bearing on the story of the mariner who came to the Lonely Isle and learned there the true history of the Elves. I have shown, convincingly as I hope, the curious and complex way in which my father's vision of the significance of Tol Eressea changed. When he jotted down the synopsis (10), the idea of the mariner's voyage to the Island of the Elves was of course already present; but he journeyed out of the East and the Lonely Isle of his seeking was -- England (though not yet the land of the English and not yet lying in the seas where England lies). When later the entire concept was shifted, England, as 'Luthany' or 'Luthien', remained preeminently the Elvish land; and Tol Eressea, with its meads and coppices, its rooks' nests in the elm-trees of Alalminore, seemed to the English mariner to be remade in the likeness of his own land, which the Elves had lost at the coming of Men: for it was indeed a re-embodiment of Elvish Luthany far over the sea. All this was to fall away afterwards from the developing mythology; but AElfwine left many marks on its pages before he too finally disappeared. Much in this chapter is necessarily inconclusive and uncertain; but I believe that these very early notes and projections are rightly disinterred. Although, as 'plots', abandoned and doubtless forgotten, they bear witness to truths of my father's heart and mind that he never abandoned. But these notes were scribbled down in his youth, when for him Elvish magic 'lingered yet mightily in the woods and hills of Luthany', in his old age all was gone West-over-sea, and an end was indeed come for the Eldar of story and of song. NOTES. 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 12 13 14 On this statement about the stature of Elves and Men see pp. 326 -- 7.2 For the form Taimonto (Taimondo) see I. 268, entry Telimektar. Belaurin is the Gnomish equivalent of Palurien (see I. 264). A side-note here suggests that perhaps the Pine should not be in Tol Eressea. -- For Ilwe, the middle air, that is 'blue and clear and flows among the stars', see I. 65, 73. Gil = Ingil. At the first occurrence of Ingil in this passage the name was written Ingil (Gil), but (Gil) was struck out. The word. Nautar occurs in a rejected outline for the Tale of the Nauglafring (p. 136), where it is equated with Nauglath (Dwarves) . Uin: 'the mightiest and most ancient of whales', chief among those

whales and fishes that drew the 'island-car' (afterwards Tol Eressea) on which Ulmo ferried the Elves to Valinor (I. 118 -- 20). Gongs: these are evil beings obscurely related to Orcs: see I. 245 note 10, and the rejected outlines for the Tale of the Nauglafring given on pp. 136 -- 7. A large query is written against this passage. The likeness of this name to Dor Daedeloth is striking, but that is the name of the realm of Morgoth in The Silmarillion, and is interpreted 'Land of the Shadow of Horror'; the old name (whose elements are dai 'sky' and teloth 'roof') has nothing in common with the later except its form. Cf. Kortirion among the Trees (I. 34, 37, 41): A wave of bowing grass. The origin of Warwick according to conventional etymology is uncertain. The element wic, extremely common in English placenames, meant essentially a dwelling or group of dwellings. The earliest recorded form of the name is Waering wic, and Waving has been thought to be an Old English word meaning a dam, a derivative from wer, Modern English weir: thus 'dwellings by the weir'. Cf. the title-page given in citation (II): Heorrenda of Haegwudu. -- No forms of the name of this Staffordshire village are actually recorded from before the Norman Conquest, but the Old English form was undoubtedly hag-wudu 'enclosed wood' (cf. the High Hay, the great hedge that protected Buckland from the Old Forest in The Lord of the Rings). The name Luthany, of a country, occurs five times in Francis

Thompson's poem The Mistress of Vision. As noted previously (I. 29) my father acquired the Collected Poems of Francis Thompson in 1913 -- 14; and in that copy he made a marginal note against one of the verses that contains the name Luthany -- though the note is not concerned with the name. But whence Thompson derived Luthany I have no idea. He himself described the poem as'afantasy'(Everard Meynell, The Life ofFrancis Thompson, 1913, p. 237). This provides no more than the origin of the name as a series of sounds, as with Kor from Rider Haggard's She, * or Rohan and Moria mentioned in my father's letter of 1967on this subject (The Letters of j R. R. Tolkien, pp. 383 -- 4), in which he said: This leads to the matter of 'external history': the actual way in which I came to light on or choose certain sequences of sound to use as names, before they were given a place inside the story. I think, as I said, this is unimportant: the labour involved in my setting out what I know and remember of the process, or in the guess-work of others, would be far greater than the worth of the results. The spoken forms would simply be mere audible forms, and when transferred to the prepared linguistic situation in my story would receive meaning and significance according to that situation, and to the nature of the story told. It would be entirely delusory to refer to the sources of the sound-combination to discover any meanings overt or hidden. 15 16 17 18 19 20 The position is complicated by the existence of some narrative outlines of extreme roughness and near-illegibility in which the mariner is named AElfwine and yet essential elements of 'the Eriol

story' are present. These I take to represent an intermediate stage. They are very obscure, and would require a great deal of space to present and discuss; therefore I pass them by. Cf. p; 264 (xiv). Caer Gwar: see p. 292. It may be mentioned here that when my father read The Fall of Condolin to the Exeter College Essay Club in the spring of 1920 the mariner was still Eriol, as appears from the notes for his preliminary remarks on that occasion (see Unfinished Tales p. 5). He said here, very strangely, that 'Eriol lights by accident on the Lonely Island'. Garsecg (pronounced Garsedge, and so written in AElfwine A) was one of the many Old English names of the sea. In AElfwine I the land is likewise named Luthien, not Luthany. In AElfwine A, on the other hand, the same distinction is made as in the outlines: 'AElfwine of England (whom the fairies after named (* There is no external evidence for this, but it can hardly bc doubted. In this case it eight bc thought that since the African Kor was a city built on the top of a great mountain standing in isolation the relationship was more than purely 'phonetic'.) 2I Luthien (friend) of Luthany (friendship)).' -- At this first occurrence (only) of Luthien in AElfwine II the form Leithian is pencilled above, but Luthien is not struck out. The Lay of Leithian was afterwards the title of the long poem of Beren and Luthien Tinuviel. The Hill of Tun, i.e. the hill on which the city of Tun was built: see p. 292. 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 Mindon Gwar: see p. 291. Eadgifu: in 'the Eriol story' this Old English name (see p. 323) was given as an equivalent to Naimi, Eriol's wife whom he wedded in Tol Eressea (p. 290). In AElfwine I the text here reads: 'by reason of her beauty and goodliness, even as that king of the Franks that was upon a time most mighty among men hath said...' [sic]. In AElfwine Il the manuscript in ink stops at 'high white shores', but after these words my father pencilled in: 'even as that king of the Franks that was in those days the mightiest of earthly kings hath said...' [sic]. The only clue in AElfwine of England to the period of AElfwine's life is the invasion of the Forodwaith (Vikings); the mighty king of the Franks may therefore be Charlemagne,' but I have been unable to trace any such reference. Evil is emended from Melko. AElfwine I does not have the phrase. AElfwine I has: 'when the ancient Men of the South from Micelgeard the Heartless Town set their mighty feet upon the soil of Luthien.' This text does not have the reference to Rum and Magbar. The name Micelgeard is struck through, but Mickleyard is written at the head of the page. Micelgeard is Old English (and Mickleyard a modernisation of this in spelling), though it does not occur in extant Old English writings and is modelled on Old Norse Mikligaror (Constantinople). -- The peculiar hostility of the Romans to the Elves of Luthany is mentioned by implication in citation (20), and their disbelief in their existence in (22). The application, frequent in AElwine I, of 'little' to the fairies (Elves) of Luthien and their ships was retained in AElfwine II as first written, but afterwards struck out. Here the word is twice

retained, perhaps unintentionally. Elvish is a later emendation of fairy. This sentence, from 'save AElfheah...', was added later in AElfwine Il; it is not in AElfwine 1. -- The whole text to this point in AElfwine I and II is compressed into the following in AElfwine A:, AElfwine of England (whom the fairies after named Luthien (friend) of Luthany (friendship)) born of Deor and Eadgifu. Their city burned and Deor slain and Eadgifu dies. AElfwine a thrall of the Winged Helms. He escapes to the Western Sea and takes ship from Belerion and makes great voyages. He is seeking for the islands of the West of which Eadgifu had told him in his childhood. 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 AElfwine I has here: 'But three men could he find as his companions; and Osse took them unto him.' Osse was emended to Neorth; and then the sentence was struck through and rewritten: 'Such found he only three; and those three Neorth after took unto him and their names are not known.' Neorth = Ulmo; see note 39. AElfwine A reads: 'He espies some islands lying in the dawn but is swept thence by great winds. He returns hardly to Belerion. He gathers the seven greatest mariners of England; they sail in spring. They are wrecked upon the isles of AElfwine's desire and find them desert and lonely and filled with gloomy whispering trees.' This is at variance with AElfwine I and II where AElfwine is cast on to the island alone; but agrees with II in giving AElfwine seven companions, not three. A clue that this was Ulmo: cf. The Fall of Gondolin (p. 155): he was shod with mighty shoes of stone.' In AElfwine A they were 'filled with gloomy whispering trees' (note 31). From the point where the Man of the Sea said: 'Lo, this is one of the ring of Harbourless Isles...' (p. 317) to here (i.e. the whole episode of the foundered Viking ship and its captain Orm, slayer of AElfwine's father) there is nothing corresponding in AElfwine I, which has only: 'but that Man of the Sea aided him in building a little craft, and together, guided by the solitary mariner, they fared away and came to a land but little known.' For the narrative in AElfwine A see note 39. At one occurrence of the name Ythlings (Old English yd 'wave') in AElfwine I it is written Ythlingas, with the Old English plural ending. The Shipmen of the West: emendation from Eneathrim. Cf. in the passage of alliterative verse in my father's On Translating Beowulf (The Monsters and the Critics and Other Essays, 1983, p. 63): then away thrust her to voyage gladly valiant-timbered. The whole section of the narrative concerning the island of the Ythlings is more briefly told in AElfwine I (though, so far as it goes, in very much the same words) with several features of the later story absent (notably the cutting of timber in the grove sacred to Ulmo, and the blessing of the ship by the Man of the Sea). The only actual difference of structure, however, is that whereas in AElfwine II AElfwine finds again his seven companions in the land of the Ythlings, and sails west with them, together with -Bior of the

Ythlings, in AElfwine I they were indeed drowned, and he got seven companions from among the Ythlings (among whom Bior is not named). The plot-outline AElfwine A tells the story from the point where AElfwine and his seven companions were cast on the Isle of the Man of the Sea (thus differing from AElfwine I and II, where he came there alone) thus: They wander about the island upon which they have been cast and come upon many decaying wrecks -- often of mighty ships, some treasure-laden. They find a solitary cabin beside a lonely sea, built of old ship-wood, where dwells a solitary and strange old mariner of dread aspect. He tells them these are the Harbourless Isles whose enchanted rocks draw all ships thither, lest men fare over far upon Garsedge [see note l9] -- and they were devised at the Hiding of Valinor. Here, he says, the trees are magical. They learn many strange things about the western world of him and their desire is whetted for adventure. He aids them to cut holy trees in the island groves and to build a wonderful vessel, and shows them how to provision it against a long voyage (that water that drieth not save when heart fails, &c.). This he blesses with a spell of adventure and discovery, and then dives from a cliff-top. They suspect it was Neorth Lord of Waters. They journey many years among strange western islands hearing often many strange reports -- of the belt of Magic Isles which few have passed; of the trackless sea beyond where the wind bloweth almost always from the West; of the edge of the twilight and the far-glimpsed isle there standing, and its glimmering haven. They reach the magic island [read islands?] and three are enchanted and fall asleep on the shore. The others beat about the waters beyond and are in despair -for as often as they make headway west the wind changes and bears them back. At last they tryst to return on the morrow if nought other happens. The day breaks chill and dull, and they lie becalmed looking in vain through the pouring rain. This narrative differs from both AElfwine I and II in that here there is no mention of the Ythlings; and AElfwine and his seven companions depart on their long western voyage from the Harbourless Isle of the ancient mariner. It agrees with AElfwine I in the name Neorth; but it foreshadows II in the cutting of sacred trees to build a ship.40. In AElfwine I AElfheah does not appear, and his two speeches in this passage are there given to one Gelimer. Gelimer (Geilamir) was the name of a king of the Vandals in the sixth century.41. In AElfwine I Bior's speech is given to Gelimer (see note 40).42. AElfine I ends in almost the same words as AElfwine II, but with a most extraordinary difference; AElfwine does not leap overboard, but returns with his companions to Belerion, and so never comes to Tol Eressea! 'Very empty thereafter were the places of Men for AElfwine and his mariners, and of their seed have been many restless and wistful folk since they were dead...' Moreover my father seems clearly to have been going to say the same in AElfwine II, but stopped, struck out what he had written, and introduced the sentence in which AElfwine leapt into the sea. I cannot see any way to explain this. AElfwine A ends in much the same way as AElfwine II: As night comes on a little breath springs up and the clouds lift. They hoist sail to return -- when suddenly low down in the dusk they see the many lights of the Haven of Many Hues twinkle forth. They row thither, and hear sweet music. Then the mist wraps all away and the others rousing themselves say it is a mirage

born of hunger, and with heavy hearts prepare to go back, but AElfwine plunges overboard and swims into the dark until he is overcome in the waters, and him seems death envelops him. The others sail away home and are out of the tale. 43 Literally, as he maintained: 'From that (grief) one moved on; from this in the same way one can move on.' There are long roots beneath the words of The Fellowship of the Ring (I. z): 'Elves... could now be seen passing westward through the moods in the evening, passing and not returning; but they were leaving Middle-earth and were no longer concerned with its troubles.' '"That isn't anything new, if you believe the old tales,"' said Ted Sandyman, when Sam Gamgee spoke of the matter. I append here a synopsis of the structural differences between the three versions of AElfwine of England. A AE. sails from Belerion and sees 'islands in the dawn'. AE. sails again with 7 mariners of England. They are shipwrecked on the isle of the Man of the Sea but all survive. The Man of the Sea helps them to build a ship but does not go with them. 1 As in A AE. has only 3 companions, and he alone survives the shipwreck. The Man of the Sea helps AE. to build a boat and goes with him.. As in A, but his companion AElfheah is named. AE. has 7 companions, and is alone on the isle of the Man of the Sea, believing them drowned. AE. and the Man of the Sea find a stranded Viking ship and sail away in it together. A. The Man of the Sea dives into the sea from a cliff-top of his isle. On their voyages 3 of AE.'s companions are enchanted in the Magic Isles. They are blown away from Tol Eressea after sighting it; AE. leaps overboard, and the others return home.

They come to the Isle of the Ythlings. The Man of the Sea dives from a cliff-top. AE. gets 7 companions from the Ythlings. As in A, but in this case they are Ythlings. They are blown away from Tol Eressea, and all, including AE., return home. As in I, but AE. finds his 7 companions from England, who were not drowned; to them is added Bior of the Ythlings. As in A As in A

Changes made to names, and differences in names, in the texts of AElfwine of England. Luthien The name of the land in I and II; in A Luthany (see note 20). Deor At the first occurrence only in I Deor < Heorrenda, subsequently Deor; A Deor. Evadrien In I < Erenol. Erenol = 'Iron Cliff'; see I. 252, entry Eriol. Forodwaith II has Forodwaith < Forwaith < Gwasgonin; I has Gwasgonin or the Winged Helms; A has the Winged Helms. Outer Land < Outer Lands at both occurrences in II (pp. 316 -- 17). AEfheah I has Gelimer (at the first occurrence only < Helgor). Shipmen of the West In II < Eneathrim.

APPENDIX. NAMES IN THE LOST TALES -- PART II. This appendix is designed only as an adjunct and extension to that in Part One. Names that have already been studied in Part One are not given entries in the following notes, if there are entries under that name in Part One, e.g. Melko, Valinor; but if, as is often the case, the etymological information in Part One is contained in an entry under some other name, this is shown, e.g. 'Gilim See I.z6o (Melko)'. Linguistic information from the Name-list to The Fall of Condolin (see p. 148) incorporated in these notes is referred to 'NFG'. 'GL' and 'QL' refer to the Gnomish and Qenya dictionaries (see I. 246ff.). Qenya is the term used in both these books and is strictly the name of the language spoken in Tol Eressea; it does not appear elsewhere in the early writings, where the distinction is between 'Gnomish' on the one hand and 'Elfin', 'Eldar', or 'Eldarissa' on the other. Alqarame For the first element Qenya alqa 'swan' see I. 249 (Alqalunte). Under root RAHA QL gives ra 'arm', rakta 'stretch out, reach', rama 'wing', ramavoite' 'having wings'; GL has ram 'wing, pinion', and it is noted that Qenya rama is a confusion of this and a word roma 'shoulder'. Amon Gwareth Under root AM(U) 'up(wards)' QL gives amu 'up(wards)', amu- 'raise', amunte' 'sunrise', amun(d) 'hill'; GL has am 'up(wards)', amon 'hill, mount', adverb 'uphill'. GL gives the name as Amon 'Wareth 'Hill of Ward', also

gwareth 'watch, guard, ward', from the stem gwar- 'watch' seen also in the name of Tinfang Warble (Gwarbilin 'Birdward', I. 268). See Glamhoth, Gwarestrin. Angorodin See I. 249 (Angamandi) and I. 156 (Kalonne'). Arlisgion GL gives Carlisgion (see I.265 (Sirion)), as also does NFG, which has entries 'Garlisgion was our name, saith Elfrith, for the Place of Reeds which is its interpretation', and 'lisg is a reed (liske')'. GL has lisg, lisc 'reed, sedge', and QL liske with the same meaning. For gar see I. 251 (Dor Faidwen). Artanor GL has athra 'across, athwart', athron adverb 'further, beyond', athrod 'crossing, ford' (changed later to adr(a), adron, adros). With athra, adr(a) is compared Qenya arta. Cf. also the name Dor Athro (p. 41). It is clear that both Artanor and Dor Athro meant 'the Land Beyond'. Cf. Sarnathrod. Asgon An entry in NFG says. "Asgon A lake in the "Land of Shadows" Dor Lomin, by the Elves named Aksan.' Ausir GL gives avos 'fortune, wealth, prosperity,' avosir, Ausir 'the same (personified)', also ausin 'rich', aus(s)aith or avosaith 'avarice'. Under root AWA in QL are aute 'prosperity, wealth; rich', ausie'wealth'. Bablon See p. 214. Bad Uthwen Gnomish uthmen 'way out, exit, escape', see I.251 (Dor Faidwen). The entry in NFG says: 'Bad Uthwen [emended from Uswen] meaneth but "way of escape" and is in Eldarissa Uswevande'.' For vande see I. 264 (Qalvanda). Balcmeg In NFG it is said that Balcmeg 'was a great fighter among the Orclim (Orqui say the Elves) who fell to the axe of Tuor -- 'tis in meaning "heart of evil".' (For -lim in Orclim see Condothlim.) The entry for Balrog in NFG says: 'Bal meaneth evilness, and Balc evil, and Balrog meaneth evil demon.' GL has balc 'cruel'. see I. 250 (Balrog). Bansil For the entry in NFG, where this name is translated 'Fairgleam', see p. 214; and for the elements of the name see I.272 (Vana) and I. 265 (Sil). Belaurin See I. 264 (Palurien). Belcha See I. 260 (Melko). NFG has an entry: 'Belca Though here [i.e. in the Tale] of overwhelming custom did Bronweg use the elfin names, this was the name aforetime of that evil Ainu.' Beleg See I. 254 (Haloisi Velike). Belegost For the first element see Beleg. GL gives ost 'enclosure, yard -- town', also oss 'outer wall, town wall', osta- 'surround with walls, fortify', ostor 'enclosure, circuit of walls'. QL under root oso has os(t) 'house, cottage', osta 'homestead', ostar 'township', ossa 'wall and moat'. bo- A late entry in GL: 'bo (bon) (cf. Qenya vo, vondo "son") as patronymic prefix, bo- bon- "son of"'; as an example is given Tuor bo-Beleg. There is also a word bor 'descendant'. See go-, Indorion. Bodruith In association with bod- 'back, again' GL has the words bodruith 'revenge', bodruithol 'vengeful (by nature)', bodruithog 'thirsting for vengeance', but these were struck out. There is also gruith 'deed of horror, violent act, vengeance'. -- It may be that Bodruith Lord of Belegost was supposed to have received his name from the events of the Tale of the Nauglafring. Copas Alqalunten See I. 254 (Kopas) and I. 249 (Alqalunte). Cris Ilbranteloth GL gives the group crisc 'sharp', criss 'cleft, gash, gully', crist 'knife', crista- 'slash, cut, slice', NFG: 'Cris meaneth much as doth falc, a cleft, ravine, or narrow way of waters with high walls'. QL under root KIRI 'cut, split' has kiris 'cleft, crack' and other words.

For ilbrant 'rainbow' see I. 256 (Ilweran). The final element is teloth 'roofing, canopy': see I. 267 -- 8 (Teleri). Cristhorn For Cris see Cris Ilbranteloth, and for thorn see I. 266 (Sorontur). In NFG is the entry: 'Cris Thorn is Eagles' Cleft or Sornekiris. ' Cuilwarthon For cuil see I. 257 (Koivie-neni); the second element is not explained. Cum an-Idrisaith For cum 'mound' see I. 250 (Cum a Gumlaith). Idrisaith is thus defined in GL: 'cf. avosaith, but that means avarice, money-greed, but idrisaith = excessive love of gold and gems and beautiful and costly things' (for avosaith see Ausir). Related words are idra 'dear, precious', idra 'to value, prize', idri (id) 'a treasure, s jewel', idril 'sweetheart' (see Idril). Curufin presumably contains curu 'magic'; see I. 269 (Tolli Kuruvar). Dairon GL includes this name but without etymological explanation: 'Dairon the fluter (Qenya Sairon).' See Mar Vanwa Tyalieva below. Danigwiel In GL the Gnomish form is Danigwethil; see I.266 (Taniquetil). NFG has an entry: 'Danigwethil do the Gnomes call Taniquetil; but seek for tales concerning that mountain rather in the elfin name.' (bo-)Dhrauthodavros '(Son of) the weary forest'. Gnomish drauth 'weary, toilworn', drauthos 'toil, weariness', drautha- 'to be weary'; for the second element tavros see I. 267 (Tavari). Dor Athro See Artanor, Sarnathrod. Dor-na-Dhaideloth For Gnomish dai 'sky' see I. 268 (Telimektar), and for teloth 'roofing, canopy' see ibid. (Teleri); cf. Cris Ilbranteloth. Dramborleg NFG has the following entry: 'Dramborleg (or as it may be named Drambor) meaneth in its full form Thudder-sharp, and was the axe of Tuor that smote both a heavy dint as of a club and cleft as a sword; and the Eldar say Tarambor or Tarambolaika.' QL gives Tarambor, Tarambolaike 'Tuor's axe' under root TARA, TARAMA'batter, thud, beat', with taran, tarambo 'buffet', and taru 'horn' (included here with a query: see Taruithorn). No Gnomish equivalents are cited in GL. The second element is Gnomish leg, leg 'keen, piercing', Qenya laika; cf. Legolast 'keen-sight', I. 267 (Tari-Laisi). Duilin NFG has the following entry: 'Duilin whose name meaneth Swallow was the lord of that house of the Gondothlim whose sign was the swallow and was surest of the archers of the Eldalie, but fell in the fall of Gondolin. Now the names of those champions appear but in Noldorissa, seeing that Gnomes they were, but his name would be in Eldarissa Tuilindo, and that of his house (which the Gnomes called Nos Duilin) Nosse Tuilinda.' Tuilindo '(springsinger), swallow' is given in QL, see I.269 (Tuilere); GL has duilin(g) 'swallow', with duil, duilir 'Spring', but these last were struck through and in another part of the book appear tuil, tuilir 'Spring' (see I. 269). For nosse' kin, people see I. 272 (Valinor)-, GL does not give nos in this sense, but has nosta- 'be born', nost 'birth; blood, high birth; birthday', and noss (changed to nos) 'birthday'. Cf. Nostna-Lothion 'the Birth of Flowers', Nos Galdon, Nos nan Alwen. Earame For ea 'eagle' see I.251 (Eerendel), and for rame see Alqarame. GL has an entry Iotothram, -um '= Qenya Earame or Eaglepinion, a name of one of Earendel's boats'. For Gnomish ior, ioroth 'eagle' see I. 251 (Earendel), and cf. the forms Earam, Earum as the name of the ship (pp. 260, 276). Earendel See pp. 266 -- 7 and 1. 25 I. Earendilyon See I.251 (Earendel), and Indorion.Ec thelion Both GL and NFG derive this name from ecthel

'fountain', to which corresponds Qenya ektele'. (This latter survived: cf. the entry kel- in the Appendix to The Silmarillion: 'from et-kele "issue of water, spring" was derived, with transposition of the consonants, Quenya ehtele, Sindarin eithel'. A later entry in GL gives aithil (( ektl) 'a spring'.) -- A form kektele' is also found in Qenya from root KELE, KELU: see I. 257 (Kelusindi). Egalmoth NFG has the following entry: 'Egalmoth is a great name, yet none know clearly its meaning -- some have said its bearer was so named in that he was worth a thousand Elves (but Rumil says nay) and others that it signifies the mighty shoulders of that Gnome, and so saith Rumil, but perchance it was woven of a secret tongue of the Gondothlim' (for the remainder of this entry see p. 215). For Gnomish moth '1000' see I. 270 (Uin). GL interprets the name as Rumil did, deriving it from alm (( Cor A, Cor B as typed. When emending Cor to Corthun my father wrote in the margin of B: 'Corthun or Tun'. Thalion A, and B as typed. Delimorgoth A, and B as typed (as at line 11). In B there is a mark of insertion between lines 72 and 73. This probably refers to a line in A, not taken up into B: bound by the (> my) spell of bottomless (> unbroken) might.

75. 84. 105. 117. 120. 121. 137. 160. 213. 218. 226. 230. 306. Belcha A, and B as typed; the same chain of emendations in B as at lines 20 and 22. Bauglir: as at line 75. Mavwin A, and B as typed; in B then emended to Mailwin, and back to Mavwin; Morwin written later in the margin of B. Exactly the same at 129, and at 137 though here without Morwin in the margin; at 145 Mavwin unemended, but Morwin in the margin. Thereafter Mavwin stands unemended and without marginal note, as far as 438 (see note). For consistency I read Morwin throughout the first version of the poem. -- Mavwin is the form in the Tale; Mailwin does not occur elsewhere. On the variation Nienori/Nienor in the Tale see II. 118 -- 19. Tinuviel A, Tinwiel B unemended but with Tinuviel in the margin. Tinwiel does not occur elsewhere. Ermabwed 'One-handed' is Beren's title or nickname in the Lost Tales. Gumlin is named in the Tale (II. 74, etc.); the younger of the two guardians of Turin on his journey to Doriath (here called Halog) is not. Belcha A, and B as typed, emended to Bauglir. Cf. notes to lines 20, 22, 75. Urin > Hurin A; but Hurin A in line 216. Ninin Udathriol A, and B as typed; cf. line 13. The distinction between 'Gnomes' and 'Elves' is still made; see I. 43 -- 4. Dorwinion A. For Mavwin was Melian moved to ruth A, and B as typed, with Then was Melian moved written in the margin. The second half-line has only three syllables unless moved is read moved, which is not satisfactory. The second version of the poem has here For Morwen Melian was moved to ruth. Cf. lines 494, 519. 333. Turin Thaliodrin A (cf. line 115), emended to the son of 361. 364. 392. 408. 430. 431. Thalion. Glamhoth appears in The Fall of Gondolin (II. 160), with is the translation 'folk of dreadful hate'. Belcha A, and B as typed; then > Melegor > Bauglir in B. Bauglir: as at line 364. Morgoth Belcha A, and B as typed. Kor > Cor A, Cor B as typed. Cf. line 50.

20 Tengwethil A, and B as typed. In the early Gnomish dictionary and in the Name-list to The Fall of Condolin the Gnomish name of Taniquetil is Danigwethil (I. 266, II. 337). 438. Mavwin A, and B as typed, but Mavwin > Morwen a later 450. 461-3. 471. 472. 494 514-16. 517. 519. emendation in 8. I read Morwin throughout the first version of the poem (see note to line 105). Cuinlimfin A, and B as typed; Cuivienen a later emendation in B. The form in the Lost Tales is Koivie-Neni; Cuinlimfin occurs nowhere else. These lines bracketed and marked with an X in B. This line marked with an X in B. Mavwin > Morwen B; see line 438. all mashed in tears A, washed in tears B (half-line of three syllables), with an X in the margin and an illegible word written in pencil before washed. Cf. lines 306, 519. The second version of the poem does not reach this point. Against these lines my father wrote in the margin of B: 'Make Orgof's kin set on him and T. fight his way out.' stonefaced stared: the accent on stonefaced was put in later and the line marked with an X. -- In his essay On Translating Beowulf (1940; The Monsters and the Critics and Other Essays (1983) p. 67) my father gave stared stonyfaced as an example of an Old English metrical type. his hands laved: the line is marked with an X in B. Cf. lines 528. 529. 548. 306, 494. With the half-line and their anger alight the second, more finished, part of the manuscript A begins; see p. 4. Belcha A, Morgoth B as typed. Guthrond A, and B as typed. Commentary on the Prologue and Part I 'Turin's Fostering'. The opening section or 'Prologue' of the poem derives from the opening of the Tale (II. 70 -- 1) and in strictly narrative terms there has been little development. In lines 18 -- z t (and especially in the rejected line in A, as a myriad rats in measureless army lmighf pull down the proudest) is clearly foreshadowed the story in The Silmarillion (p. 195): ... they took him at last alive, by the command of Morgoth, for the Orcs grappled him with their hands, which clung to him though he hewed off their arms; and ever their numbers were renewed, until at last he fell buried beneath them. On the other hand the motive in the later story for capturing him alive (Morgoth knew that Hurin had been to Gondolin) is necessarily not present, since Gondolin in the older phases of the legends was not discovered till Turgon retreated down Sirion after the Battle of Unnumbered Tears (II. 120, 208). That he was taken alive by Morgoth's command is however already stated in the poem (line 20), though it is not explained why. In the Tale Morgoth's interest in Hurin as a tool for the

21 discovery of Turgon arose from his knowledge that the Elves of Kor thought little of Men, holding them in scant fear or suspicion for their blindness and lack of skill -- an idea that is repeated in the poem (46 -- 8); but this idea seems only to have arisen in Morgoth's mind when he came to Hurin in his dungeon (44ff.). The place of Hurin's torment (in the Tale 'a lofty place of the mountains') is now defined as a stool of stone on the steepest peak of, Thangorodrim; and this is the first occurrence of that name. In the change of son to heir in line 29 is seen the first hint of a development in the kingly house of the Noldoli, with the appearance of a second generation between Finwe (Finweg) and Turgon; but by the time that my father pencilled this change on the text (and noted 'He was Fingolfin's son') the later genealogical structure was already in being, and this is as it were a casual indication of it. In 'Turin's Fostering' there is a close relationship between the Tale ] and the poem, extending to many close similarities of wording -- especially abundant in the scene in Thingol's hall leading to the death of Orgof; and some phrases had a long life, surviving from the Tale, through the poem, and into the.Narn i Hin Hurin, as rather would she dwell poor among Men than live sweetly as an almsguest among the woodland Elves(II. 73) but to spend her days as alms-guest of others, even Elfin kings, it liked her little (284 -- 6) she would not yet humble her pride to be an alms-guest, not even of a king(Narn p. 70) -- though in the Narn the 'alms-guest' passage occurs at a different point, before Turin left Hithlum (Morwen's hope that Hurin would come back is in the Narn her reason for not journeying to Doriath with her son, not for refusing the 1ater invitation to her to go). Of Morwen's situation in Dor-lomin after the Battle of Unnumbered Tears there are a few things to say. In the poem (111--13) men unmindful of his mighty lordship dwelt in Dorlomin and dealt unkindly with his widowed wife -- echoing the Tale: 'the strange men who dwelt nigh knew not the dignity of the Lady Mavwin', but there is still no indication of who these men were or where they came from (see II. 126). As so often, the narrative situation was prepared but its explanation had not emerged. The unclarity of the Tale as to where Urin dwelt before the great Battle (see II.120) is no longer present: the dwelling was dear where he dwelt of old (288). Nienor was born before Turin left (on the contradiction in the Tale on this point see II. 131); and the chronology of Turin's childhood is still that of the Tale (see II. 142): seven years old when he left Hithlum (332), seven years in Doriath while tidings still came from Morwen (333), twelve years since he came to Doriath when he slew Orgof (471). In the later story the last figure remained unchanged, which suggests that the X (mark of dissatisfaction) placed against line 471 had some other reason. There are several references in the poem to Hurin and Beren having been friends and fellows-in-arms (122 -- 4., 248 -- 9, 298). In the Tale it was said originally (when Beren was a Man) that Egnor Beren's father was akin to Mavwin; this was replaced by a different passage (when Beren had become a Gnome) according to which Egnor was a friend of Urin ('and Beren Ermabwed son of Egnor he knew'); see I I. 71 -- 2, 139. In the later version of the Tale of Tinuviel (II.44) Urin is named as the 'brother in arms' of Egnor; this was emended to make Urin's relationship with Beren himself -- as in the poem. In The Silmarillion (p. 198) Morwen

22 thought to send Turin to Thingol 'for Beren son of Barahir was her father's kinsman, and he had been moreover a friend of Hurin, ere evil befell'. There is no mention of the fact in the Narn (p. 63): Morwen merely says: 'Am I not now kin of the king [Thingol]? For Beren son of Barahir was grandson of Bregor, as was my father also.' That Beren was still an Elf, not a Man, (deducible on other grounds) is apparent from lines 178 -- 9: and never ere now for need or wonder had children of Men chosen that pathway -- cf. the Tale (II. 72): 'and Turin son of Urin was the first of Men to tread that way', changed from the earlier reading 'and Beren Ermabwed was the first of Men...' In the parting of Turin from his mother comparison with the Tale will show some subtle differences which need not be spelled out here. The younger of Turin's guardians is now named, Halog (and it is said that Gumlin and Halog were the only 'henchmen' left to Morwen). Some very curious things are said of Beleg in the poem. He is twice (200, 399) called 'a (the) son of the wilderness who wist no sire', and at line 416 he is 'Beleg the ageless'. There seems to be a mystery about him, an otherness that sets him apart (as he set himself apart, 195) from the Elves of Thingol's lordship (see further p. 127). It may be that there is still a trace of this in the 1930 'Silmarillion', where it is said that none went from Doriath to the Battle of Unnumbered Tears save Mablung,

and Beleg 'who obeyed no man' (in the later text this becomes 'nor any out of Doriath save Mablung and Beleg, who were unwilling to have no part in these great deeds. To them Thingol gave leave to go...', The Silmarillion p. 189). In the poem (219) Beleg says expressly that he did not go to the great Battle. -- His great bow of black yew-wood (so in The Silmarillion, p. 208, where it is named Belthronding) now appears (400): in the Tale he is not particularly marked out as a bowman (II. 123). Beleg's The gods have guided you (215) and Turin's guardians' thought the gods are good (244) accord with references in the Lost Tales to the influence of the Valar on Men and Elves in the Great Lands: see II. 141. The potent wine that Beleg carried and gave to the travellers from his flask (223 ff.) is notable -- brought from the burning South and by long mays carried to the lands of the North -- as is the name of the land from which it came: Dor-Winion (230, 425). The only other places in my father's writings where this name occurs (so far as I know) are in The Hobbit, Chapter IX Barrels out of Bond: 'the heady vintage of the great gardens of Dorwinion', and 'the wine of Dorwinion brings deep and pleasant dreams'.* See further p. 127. The curious element in Thingol's message to Morwen in the Tale, explaining why he did not go with his people to the Battle of Unnumbered Tears (II. 73), has now been rejected; but with Morwen's response to the messengers out of Doriath there enters the legend the Dragon-helm of Dor-lomin (297 ff.). As yet little is told of it (though more is said in the second version of the poem, see p. 126): Hurin often bore it in battle (in the Narn it is denied that he used it, p. 76); it magically protected its wearer (as still in the Narn, p. 75); and it was arith that token crowned of the towering dragon, and o'erwritten with runes by wrights of old (cf. the Narn: 'on it were graven runes of victory'). But nothing is here said of how Hurin came by it, beyond the fact that it was his heirloom. Very notable is the passage (307 ff.) in which is described Thingol's handling of the helm as his hoard were scant, despite his possession of dungeons filled/with Elfin armouries of ancient gear. I have commented previously (see II. 128 -- 9, 245 -- 6) on the early emphasis on the poverty of Tinwelint (Thingol): here we have the first appearance of the idea of his wealth

23 (present also at the beginning of the Lay of Leithian). Also notable is the close echoing of the lines of the poem in the words of the Narn, p. 76: *Doncinion is marked on the decorated map by Pauline Bayncs, as a region on the North-western shores of the Sea of Rhun. It must bc presumed that this, like other names on that map, was communicated to her by my father (see Unfinished Tales p. 261, footnote), but its placing seems surprising.) Yet Thingol handled the Helm of Hador as though his hoard were scanty, and he spoke courteous words, saying: 'Proud were the head that bore this helm, which the sires of Hurin bore.' There is also a clear echo of lines 315-18 Then a thought was thrust into Thingol's heart, and Turin he called and told when come that Morwin his mother a mighty thing had sent to her son, his sire's heirloom in the prose of the Narn: Then a thought came to him, and he summoned Turin, and told him that Morwen had sent to her son a mighty thing, the heirloom of his fathers. Compare also the passages that follow in both works, concerning Turin's being too young to lift the Helm, and being in any case too unhappy to heed it on account of his mother's refusal to leave Hithlum. This was the first of his sorrows (328); in the Narn (p. 75) the second. The account of Turin's character in boyhood (341 ff.) is very close to that in the Tale (II. 74), which as I have noted before (II. 121) survived into the Narn (p. 77): the latter account indeed echoes the poem ('he learned much lore', 'neither did he win friendship easily'). In the poem it is now added that in cueaving song/he had a minstrel's mastery, but mirth was not in it. An important new element in the narrative enters with the companionship of Beleg and Turin (wearing the Dragon-helm, 377) in warfare on the marches of Doriath: how Beleg the ageless was brother-in-arms to the black-haired boy from the beaten people. (416 -- 17) Of this there is no mention in the Tale at all (II. 74). Cf. my Commentary, II. 122: Turin's prowess against the Orcs during his sojourn in Artanor is given a more central or indeed unique importance in the tale ('he held the wrath of Melko from them for many years'), especially as Beleg, his companion-in-arms in the later versions, is not here mentioned. In the poem the importance to Doriath of Turin's warfare is not diminished, however: for by him was holden the hand of ruin from Thingol's folk, and Thu feared him (389 -- 90) We meet here for the first time Thu, thane most mighty/neath Morgoth Bauglir. It is interesting to learn that Thu knew of Turin and feared him, also that Morgoth ordered Thu to assault Doriath: this story will reappear in the Lay of Leithian. In the story of Turin and Orgof the verses are very clearly following the prose of the Tale, and there are many close likenesses of wording, as already noted. The relation of this scene to the later story has been discussed previously (II. 121 -- 2). Orgof still has Gnome-blood, which may imply the continuance of the story that there were Gnomes among Thingol's people (see II. 43). The occasion of Turin's return from the forest to the Thousand Caves (a name that first occurs in the poem) becomes, as it seems, a great feast, with songs of Valinor -- quite unlike the later story, where the occasion is in no way marked out and Thingol and Melian were not in Menegroth (Narn p. 79); and Turin and Orgof were set on high/near the king and queen (i.e. presumably on the dais, at the 'high table'). Whether it was a rejection of this idea that caused my father to bracket lines 461 -- 3 and mark them with an X I

24 cannot say. The secret songs of the sons of Ing referred to in this passage (421) are not indeed songs of the sons of Ing of the AElfwine history (II. 301 ff.); this Ing is the Gnomish form of Ingwe, Lord of the First Kindred of the Elves (earlier Inwe Lord of the Teleri).* The lines concerning Orgof dead are noteworthy: his hour had come that his soul should seek the sad pathway to the deep valley of the Dead Awaiting, there a thousand years thrice:o ponder in the gloom of Gurthrond his grim jesting, ere he fare to Faerie to feast again.( 544-9) With this compare the tale of The Coming of the Valar and the Building of Valinor (I. 76): There [in the hall of Ve] Mandos spake their doom, and there they waited in the darkness, dreaming of their past deeds, until such time as he appointed when they might again be born into their children, and go forth to laugh and sing again. The name Gurthrond (< Guthrond) occurs nowhere else; the first element is doubtless gurth 'death', as in the name of Turin's sword Gurtholfin (II. 342). *That Ing is the Gnomish form of Ingwe appears from the 1926 'Sketch of the Mythology' and the 1930 'Silmarillion'. Ing was replaced by Inn e in The Cottage of Lost Play, but there the Gnomish name of Inwe is Inwithiel, changed from Gim Githil (I. 16, 22).) There remain a few particular points concerning names. At line 366 Hithlum is explained as the name of Dorlomin among Men: of dark Dorlomin with its dreary pines that Hithlum unhappy is hight by Men. This is curious. In the Lost Tales the name of the land among Men was Aryador; so in the Tale of Turambar (II. 70): In those days my folk dwelt in a vale of Hisilome and that land did Men name Aryador in the tongues they then used. In the 1930 'Silmarillion' it is specifically stated that Hithlum and Dorlomin were Gnomish names for Hisilome', and there seems every reason to suppose that this was always the case. The answer to the puzzle may however lie in the same passage of the Tale of Turambar, where it is said that often was the story of Turambar and the Foaloke in their [i.e. Men's] mouths -- but rather after the fashion of the Gnomes did they say Turumart and the Fuithlug. Perhaps then the meaning of line 366 is that Men called Hisilome Hithlum because they used the Gnomish name, not that it was the name in their own tongue. In the following lines (367 -- 8) the Shadowy Mountains fenced them from Faerie and the folk of the wood. This is the first occurrence of the name Shadowy Mountains, and it is used as it was afterwards (Ered Wethrin); in the Last Tales the mountains forming the southern fence of Hithlum are called the Iron Mountains or the Bitter Hills (see II. 61). The name Cuinlimfin of the Waters of Awakening (note to line 450) seems to have been a passing idea, soon abandoned. Lastly, at line 50 occurs (by emendation in B from Cor) the unique compound name Corthun, while at 430 the city of Cor was emended to the city of Tun; see II. 292. * II. BELEG. Long time alone he lived in the hills a hunter of beast and hater of Men,

25 or Orcs, or Elves, till outcast folk 560 there one by one, wild and reckless around him rallied; and roaming far they were feared by both foe and friend of old. For hot with hate was the heart of Turin, nor a friend found him such folk of Thingol as he wandering met in the wood's fastness. 565 There Beleg the brave on the borders of Doriath they found and fought -- and few were with him -and o'erborne by numbers they bound him at last, till their captain came to their camp at eve. Afar from that fight his fate that day had taken Turin on the trail of the Orcs, as they hastened home to the Hills of Iron with the loot laden of the lands of Men. Then soon was him said that a servant of Thingol they had tied to a tree -- and Turin coming stared astonied on the stern visage of Beleg the brave his brother in arms, of whom he learned the lore of leaping blades, and of bended bow and barbed shaft, and the wild woodland's wisdom secret, when they blent in battle the blood of their wounds. 570 575 580 Then Turin's heart was turned from hate, and he bade unbind Beleg the huntsman. 'Now fare thou free! But, of friendship aught if thy heart yet holds for Hurin's son, never tell thou tale that Turin thou sawst an outlaw unloved from Elves and Men, whom Thingol's thanes yet thirst to slay. Betray not my trust or thy troth of yore! ' Then Beleg of the bow embraced him there -he had not fared to the feast or the fall of Orgof -there kissed him kindly comfort speaking: 'Lo! nought know I of the news thou tellest; but outlawed or honoured thou ever shalt be the brother of Beleg, come bliss come woe! Yet little me likes that thy leaping sword the life should drink of the leaguered Elves. Are the grim Glamhoth then grown so few, or the foes of Faerie feeble-hearted, that warlike Men have no work to do? 585 590 595 600

Shall the foes of Faerie be friends of Men? Betrayest thou thy troth whom we trusted of yore? ' 'Nor of armed Orc, nor [of] Elf of the wood, nor of any on earth have I honour or love, 0 Beleg the bowman. This band alone I count as comrades, my kindred in woe and friendless fate -- our foes the world.'

26 605 'Let the bow of Beleg to your band be joined; and swearing death to the sons of darkness let us suage our sorrow and the smart of fate! Our valour is not vanquished, nor vain the glory that once we did win in the woods of old.' 610 Thus hope in the heart of Hurin's offspring awoke at those words; and them well liked of that band the boldest, save Blodrin only -Blodrin Bor's son, who for blood and for gold alone lusted, and little he recked whom he robbed of riches or reft of life, were it Elf or Orc; but he opened not the thoughts of his heart. There throbbed the harp, where the fires flickered, and the flaming brands of pine were piled in the place of their camp; where glad men gathered in good friendship as dusk fell down on the drear woodland. Then a song on a sudden soaring loudly -and the trees up-looming towering harkened -was raised of the Wrack of the Realm of the Gods; of the need of the Gnomes on the Narrow Crossing; of the fight at Fangros, and Feanor's sons' oath unbreakable. Then up sprang Beleg: 'That our vaunt and our vows be not vain for ever, even such as they swore, those seven chieftains, an oath let us swear that is unchanging as Tain-Gwethil's towering mountain! ' Their blades were bared, as blood shining in the flame of the fires while they flashed and touched. As with one man's voice the words were spoken, and the oath uttered that must unrecalled abide for ever, a bond of truth and friendship in arms, and faith in peril. 615 620 625 630 635 640 Thus war was waked in the woods once more for the foes of Faerie, and its fame widely, and the fear of that fellowship, now fared abroad; when the horn was heard of the hunting Elves that shook the shaws and the sheer valleys. Blades were naked and bows twanging, and shafts from the shadows shooting winged, and the sons of darkness slain and conquered; even in Angband the Orcs trembled. Then the word wandered down the ways of the forest that Turin Thalion was returned to war; and Thingol heard it, and his thanes were sped to lead the lost one in love to his halls -but his fate was fashioned that they found him not. Little gold they got in that grim warfare, but weary watches and wounds for guerdon; nor on robber-raids now rode they ever, who fended from Faerie the fiends of Hell. But Blodrin Bor's son for booty lusted, for the loud laughter of the lawless days,

27 and meats unmeasured, and mead-goblets refilled and filled, and the flagons of wine that went as water in their wild revels. Now tales have told that trapped as a child he was dragged by the Dwarves to their deep mansions, and in Nogrod nurtured, and in nought was like, spite blood and birth, to the blissful Elves. His heart hated Hurin's offspring and the bowman Beleg; so biding his while he fled their fellowship and forest hidings to the merciless Orcs, whose moon-pallid cruel-curved blades to kill spare not; than whose greed for gold none greater burns save in hungry hearts of the hell-dragons. He betrayed his troth; traitor made him and the forest fastness of his fellows in arms he opened to the Orcs, nor his oath heeded. There they fought and fell by foes outnumbered, by treachery trapped at a time of night when their fires faded and few were waking -some wakened never, not for wild noises, nor cries nor curses, nor clashing steel, 645 650 655 660 665 670 675 680 swept as they slumbered to the slades of death. But Turin they took, though towering mighty at the Huntsman's hand he hewed his foemen, as a bear at bay mid bellowing hounds, unheeding his hurts; at the hest of Morgoth yet living they lapped him, his limbs entwining, with hairy hands and hideous arms. Then Beleg was buried in the bodies of the fallen, as sorely wounded he swooned away; and all was over, and the Orcs triumphed. The dawn over Doriath dimly kindled saw Blodrin Bor's son by a beech standing with throat thirled by a thrusting arrow, whose shaven shaft, shod with poison, and feather-winged, was fast in the tree. He bargained the blood of his brothers for gold: thus his meed was meted -- in the mirk at random by an orc-arrow his oath came home. 685 690 695 700 From the magic mazes of Melian the Queen they haled unhappy Hurin's offspring, lest he flee his fate; but they fared slowly and the leagues were long of their laboured way over hill and hollow to the high places, where the peaks and pinnacles of pitiless stone looming up lofty are lapped in cloud, and veiled in vapours vast and sable; where Eiglir Engrin, the Iron Hills, lie

28 o'er the hopeless halls of Hell upreared wrought at the roots of the roaring cliffs of Thangorodrim's thunderous mountain. Thither led they laden with loot and evil; but Beleg yet breathed in blood drenched aswoon, till the sun to the South hastened, and the eye of day was opened wide. 705 710 715 720 725 Then he woke and wondered, and weeping took him, and to Turin Thalion his thoughts were turned, that o'erborne in battle and bound he had seen. Then he crawled from the corpses that had covered him over, weary, wounded, too weak to stand. So Thingol's thanes athirst and bleeding in the forest found him: his fate willed not that he should drink the draught of death from foes. Thus they bore him back in bitter torment his tidings to tell in the torchlit halls of Thingol the king; in the Thousand Caves to be healed whole by the hands enchanted of Melian Mablui, the moonlit queen. 730 Ere a week was outworn his wounds were cured, but his heart's heaviness those hands of snow nor soothed nor softened, and sorrow-laden he fared to the forest. No fellows sought he in his hopeless hazard, but in haste alone he followed the feet of the foes of Elfland, the dread daring, and the dire anguish, that held the hearts of Hithlum's men and Doriath's doughtiest in a dream of fear. Unmatched among Men, or magic-wielding Elves, or hunters of the Orc-kindred, or beasts of prey for blood pining, was his craft and cunning, that cold and dead an unseen slot could scent o'er stone, foot-prints could find on forest pathways that lightly on the leaves were laid in moons long waned, and washed by windy rains. The grim Glamhoth's goblin armies go cunning-footed, but his craft failed not to tread their trail, till the lands were darkened, and the light was lost in lands unknown. Never-dawning night was netted clinging in the black branches of the beetling trees; oppressed by pungent pinewood's odours, and drowsed with dreams as the darkness thickened, he strayed steerless. The stars were hid, and the moon mantled. There magic foundered in the gathering glooms, there goblins even (whose deep eyes drill the darkest shadows) bewildered wandered, who the way forsook to grope in the glades, there greyly loomed of girth unguessed in growth of ages the topless trunks of trees enchanted. That fathomless fold by folk of Elfland is Taur-na-Fuin, the Trackless Forest

29 of Deadly Nightshade, dreadly named. 735 740 745 750 755 760 765 Abandoned, beaten, there Beleg lying to the wind harkened winding, moaning in bending boughs; to branches creaking up high over head, where huge pinions of the plumed pine-trees complained darkly in black foreboding. There bowed hopeless, in wit wildered, and wooing death, he saw on a sudden a slender sheen shine a-shimmering in the shades afar, like a glow-worm's lamp a-gleaming dim. He marvelled what it might be as he moved softly; for he knew not the Gnomes of need delving in the deep dungeons of dark Morgoth. Unmatched their magic in metal-working, who jewels and gems that rejoiced the Gods aforetime fashioned, when they freedom held, now swinking slaves of ceaseless labour in Angband's smithies, nor ever were suffered to wander away, warded always. But little lanterns of lucent crystal and silver cold with subtlest cunning they strangely fashioned, and steadfast a flame burnt unblinking there blue and pale, unquenched for ever. The craft that lit them was the jewel-makers' most jealous secret. Not Morgoth's might, nor meed nor torment them vowed, availed to reveal that lore; yet lights and lamps of living radiance, many and magical, they made for him. No dark could dim them the deeps wandering; whose lode they lit was lost seldom in groundless grot, or gulfs far under. 770 775 780 785 790 795 'Twas a Gnome he beheld on the heaped needles of a pine-tree pillowed, when peering wary he crept closer. The covering pelt was loosed from the lamp of living radiance by his side shining. Slumber-shrouded his fear-worn face was fallen in shade. Lest in webs woven of unwaking sleep, spun round by spells in those spaces dark, he lie forlorn and lost for ever, the Hunter hailed him in the hushed forest -800 805 to the drowsy deeps of his dream profound fear ever-following came falling loud;

30 as the lancing lightning he leapt to his feet full deeming that dread and death were upon him, Flinding go-Fuilin fleeing in anguish from the mines of Morgoth. Marvelling he heard the ancient tongue of the Elves of Tun; and Beleg the Bowman embraced him there, and learnt his lineage and luckless fate, how thrust to thraldom in a throng of captives, from the kindred carried and the cavernous halls of the Gnomes renowned of Nargothrond, long years he laboured under lashes and flails of the baleful Balrogs, abiding his time. A tale he unfolded of terrible flight o'er flaming fell and fuming hollow, o'er the parched dunes of the Plains of Drouth, till his heart took hope and his heed was less. 'Then Taur-na-Fuin entangled my feet in its mazes enmeshed; and madness took me that I wandered witless, unwary stumbling and beating the boles of the brooding pines in idle anger -- and the Orcs heard me. They were camped in a clearing, that close at hand by mercy I missed. Their marching road is beaten broad through the black shadows by wizardry warded from wandering Elves; but dread they know of the Deadly Nightshade, and in haste only do they hie that way. Now cruel cries and clamorous voices awoke in the wood, and winged arrows from horny bows hummed about me; and following feet, fleet and stealthy, were padding and pattering on the pine-needles; and hairy hands and hungry fingers in the glooms groping, as I grovelled fainting till they cowering found me. Fast they clutched me beaten and bleeding, and broken in spirit they laughing led me, my lagging footsteps with their spears speeding. Their spoils were piled, and countless captives in that camp were chained, and Elfin maids their anguish mourning. 810 815 820 825 830 835 840 845 850 put one they watched, warded sleepless, was stern-visaged, strong, and in stature tall as are Hithlum's men of the misty hills. Full length he lay and lashed to pickets in baleful bonds, yet bold-hearted his mouth no mercy of Morgoth sued, but defied his foes. Foully they smote him. Then he called, as clear as cry of hunter that hails his hounds in hollow places, on the name renowned of that noblest king -but men unmindful remember him little -Hurin Thalion, who Erithamrod hight,

31 the Unbending, for Orc and Balrog and Morgoth's might on the mountain yet he defies fearless, on a fanged peak of thunder-riven Thangorodrim.' 855 860 865 In eager anger then up sprang Beleg, crying and calling, careless of Flinding: '0 Turin, Turin, my troth-brother, to the brazen bonds shall I abandon thee, and the darkling doors of the Deeps of Hell?' 870 'Thou wilt join his journey to the jaws of sorrow, 0 bowman crazed, if thy bellowing cry to the Orcs should come; their ears than cats' :are keener whetted, and though the camp from here be a day distant where those deeds I saw, who knows if the Gnome they now pursue that crept from their clutches, as a crawling worm on belly cowering, whom they bleeding cast in deathly swoon on the dung and slough of their loathsome lair. 0 Light of Valinor! and ye glorious Gods! How gleam their eyes, and their tongues are red! ' 'Yet I Turin will wrest from their hungry hands, or to Hell be dragged, or sleep with the slain in the slades of Death. Thy lamp shall lead us, and my lore rekindle and wise wood-craft! ' '0 witless hunter, thy words are wild -- wolves unsleeping and wizardry ward their woeful captives; unerring their arrows; the icy steel of their curved blades cleaves unblunted 875 880 885 890 the meshes of mail; the mirk to pierce those eyes are able; their awful laughter the flesh freezes! I fare not thither, for fear fetters me in the Forest of Night: better die in the dark dazed, forwandered, than wilfully woo that woe and anguish! I know not the way.' 'Are the knees then weak of Flinding go-Fuilin? Shall free-born Gnome thus show himself a shrinking slave, who twice entrapped has twice escaped? Remember the might and the mirth of yore, the renown of the Gnomes of Nargothrond! ' 895 900 Thus Beleg the bowman quoth bold-hearted, but Flinding fought the fear of his heart, and loosed the light of his lamp of blue, now brighter burning. In the black mazes enwound they wandered, weary searching; by the tall tree-boles towering silent oft barred and baffled; blindly stumbling over rock-fast roots writhing coiled; and drowsed with dreams by the dark odours, till hope was hidden. 'Hark thee, Flinding;

32 viewless voices vague and distant, a muffled murmur of marching feet that are shod with stealth shakes the stillness.' 905 910 915 'No noise I hear', the Gnome answered, 'thy hope cheats thee.' 'I hear the chains clinking, creaking, the cords straining, and wolves padding on worn pathways. I smell the blood that is smeared on blades that are cruel and crooked; the croaking laughter -now, listen! louder and louder comes,' the hunter said. 'I hear no sound', quoth Flinding fearful. 'Then follow after! ' with bended bow then Beleg answered, 'my cunning rekindles, my craft needs not thy lamp's leading.' Leaping swiftly he shrank in the shadows; with shrouded lantern Flinding followed him, and the forest-darkness and drowsy dimness drifted slowly unfolding from them in fleeing shadows, 920 925 930 and its magic was minished, till they marvelling saw they were brought to its borders. There black-gaping an archway opened. By ancient trunks it was framed darkly, that in far-off days the lightning felled, now leaning gaunt their lichen-leprous limbs uprooted. There shadowy bats that shrilled thinly flew in and flew out the air brushing as they swerved soundless. A swooning light faint filtered in, for facing North they looked o'er the leagues of the lands of mourning, o'er the bleak boulders, o'er the blistered dunes and dusty drouth of Dor-na-Fauglith; o'er that Thirsty Plain, to the threatening peaks, now glimpsed grey through the grim archway, of the marching might of the Mountains of Iron, and faint and far in the flickering dusk the thunderous towers of Thangorodrim. But backward broad through the black shadows from that darkling door dimly wandered the ancient Orc-road; and even as they gazed the silence suddenly with sounds of dread was shaken behind them, and shivering echoes from afar came fleeting. Feet were tramping; trappings tinkling; and the troublous murmur of viewless voices in the vaulted gloom came near and nearer. 'Ah! now I hear', said Flinding fearful; 'flee we swiftly from hate and horror and hideous faces, from fiery eyes and feet relentless! Ah! woe that I wandered thus witless hither!' 935 940 945 950 955

33 960 Then beat in his breast, foreboding evil, with dread unwonted the dauntless heart of Beleg the brave. With blanched cheeks in faded fern and the feathery leaves -- of brown bracken they buried them deep, where dank and dark a ditch was cloven on the wood's borders by waters oozing, dripping down to die in the drouth below. Yet hardly were they hid when a host to view round a dark turning in the dusky shadows 965 970 came swinging sudden with a swift thudding of feet after feet on fallen leaves. In rank on rank of ruthless spears that war-host went; weary stumbling countless captives, cruelly laden with bloodstained booty, in bonds of iron they haled behind them, and held in ward by the wolf-riders and the wolves of Hell. Their road of ruin was a-reek with tears: many a hall and homestead, many a hidden refuge of Gnomish lords by night beleaguered their o'ermastering might of mirth bereft, and fair things fouled, and fields curdled with the bravest blood of the beaten people. 975 980 985 To an army of war was the Orc-band waxen that Blodrin Bor's son to his bane guided to the wood-marches, by the welded hosts homeward hurrying to the halls of mourning swiftly swollen to a sweeping plague. Like a throbbing thunder in the threatening deeps of cavernous clouds o'ercast with gloom now swelled on a sudden a song most dire, and their hellward hymn their home greeted; flung from the foremost of the fierce spearmen, who viewed mid vapours vast and sable the threefold peaks of Thangorodrim, it rolled rearward, rumbling darkly, like drums in distant dungeons empty. Then a werewolf howled; a word was shouted like steel on stone; and stiffly raised their spears and swords sprang up thickly as the wild wheatfields of the wargod's realm with points that palely pricked the twilight. As by wind wafted then waved they all, and bowed, as the bands with beating measured moved on mirthless from the mirky woods, from the topless trunks of Taur-na-Fuin, neath the leprous limbs of the leaning gate. 990 995 1000 1005 1010 Then Beleg the bowman in bracken cowering, on the loathly legions through the leaves peering,

34 saw Turin the tall as he tottered forward 1015 neath the whips of the Orcs as they whistled o'er him; and rage arose in his wrathful heart, and piercing pity outpoured his tears. The hymn was hushed; the host vanished down the hellward slopes of the hill beyond; and silence sank slow and gloomy round the trunks of the trees of Taur-na-Fuin, and nethermost night drew near outside. 1020 'Follow me, Flinding, from the forest cursed! Let us haste to his help, to Hell if need be or to death by the darts of the dread Glamhoth!': and Beleg bounded from the bracken madly, like a deer driven by dogs baying from his hiding in the hills and hollow places; and Flinding followed fearful after him neath the yawning gate, þ through yew-thickets, through bogs and bents and bushes shrunken, till they reached the rocks and the riven moorlands and friendless fells falling darkly to the dusty dunes of Dor-na-Fauglith. In a cup outcarven on the cold hillside, whose broken brink was bleakly fringed with bended bushes bowed in anguish from the North-wind's knife, beneath them far the feasting camp of their foes was laid; the fiery flare of fuming torches, and black bodies in the blaze they saw crossing countlessly, and cries they heard and the hollow howling of hungry wolves. 1025 1030 1035 1040 Then a moon mounted o'er the mists riding, and the keen radiance of the cold moonshine the shadows sharpened in the sheer hollows, and slashed the slopes with slanting blackness; in wreaths uprising the reek of fires was touched to tremulous trails of silver. Then the fires faded, and their foemen slumbered in a sleep of surfeit. No sentinel watched, nor guards them girdled -- what good were it to watch wakeful in those withered regions neath Eiglir Engrin, whence the eyes of Bauglir gazed unclosing from the gates of Hell? 1045 1050 1055 Did not werewolves' eyes unwinking gleam in the wan moonlight -- the wolves that sleep not, that sit in circles with slavering tongues round camp or clearing of the cruel Glamhoth? Then was Beleg a-shudder, and the unblinking eyes nigh chilled his marrow and chained his flesh in fear unfathomed, as' flat to earth by a boulder he lay. Lo! black cloud-drifts surged up like smoke from the sable North,

35 and the sheen was shrouded of the shivering moon; the wind came wailing from the woeful mountains, and the heath unhappy hissed and whispered; and the moans came faint of men in torment in the camp accursed. His quiver rattled as he found his feet and felt his bow, hard horn-pointed, by hands of cunning of black yew wrought; with bears' sinews it was stoutly strung; strength to bend it had nor Man nor Elf save the magic helped him that Beleg the bowman now bore alone. No arrows of the Orcs so unerring winged as his shaven shafts that could shoot to a mark that was seen but in glance ere gloom seized it. Then Dailir he drew, his dart beloved; howso far fared it, or fell unnoted, unsought he found it with sound feathers and barbs unbroken (till it broke at last); and fleet bade he fly that feather-pinioned snaketongued shaft, as he snicked the string in the notch nimbly, and with naked arm to his ear drew it. The air whistled, and the tingling string twanged behind it, soundless a sentinel sank before it -there was one of the wolves that awaked no more. Now arrows after he aimed swiftly that missed not their mark and meted silent death in the darkness dreadly stinging, till three of the wolves with throats pierced, and four had fallen with fleet-winged arrows a-quivering in their quenched eyes. Then great was the gap in the guard opened, and Beleg his bow unbent, and said: 1060 1065 1070 1075 1080 1085 1090 1095 Wilt come to the camp, comrade Flinding, or await me watchful? If woe betide thou might win with word through the woods homeward to Thingol the king how throve my quest, how Turin the tall was trapped by fate, how Beleg the bowman to his bane hasted.' -: Then Flinding fiercely, though fear shook him: -'- 'I have followed thee far, 0 forest-walker, nor will leave thee now our league denying! ' ' Then both bow and sword Beleg left there : with his belt unbound in the bushes tangled of a dark thicket in a dell nigh them, -' and Flinding there laid his flickering lamp = and his nailed shoes, and his knife only . he kept, that uncumbered he might creep silent. 1100 1105 1110 Thus those brave in dread down the bare hillside wards the camp clambered creeping wary,

36 ', and dared that deed in days long past whose glory has gone through the gates of earth, and songs have sung unceasing ringig ." wherever the Elves in ancient places ':,: bad light or laughter in the later world. With breath bated on the brink of the dale :. they stood and stared through stealthy shadows, ' till they saw where the circle of sleepless eyes e broken; with hearts beating dully ' they passed the places where pierced and bleeding : the wolves weltered by winged death unseen smitten; as smoke noiseless they slipped silent through the slumbering throngs as shadowy wraiths shifting vaguely from gloom to gloom, till the Gods brought them and the craft and cunning of the keen huntsman to Turin the tall where he tumbled lay with face downward in the filthy mire, and his feet were fettered, and fast in bonds anguish enchained his arms behind him. ere he slept or swooned, as sunk in oblivion drugs of darkness deadly blended; he heard not their whispers; no hope stirred him nor the deep despair of his dreams fathomed; 1115 1120 1125 1130 1135 to awake his wit no words availed. No blade would bite on the bonds he wore, though Flinding felt for the forged knife of dwarfen steel, his dagger prized, that at waist he wore awake or sleeping, whose edge would eat through iron noiseless as a clod of clay is cleft by the share. It was wrought by wrights in the realms of the East, in black Belegost, by the bearded Dwarves of troth unmindful; it betrayed him now from its sheath slipping as o'er shaggy slades and roughhewn rocks their road they wended. 1140 1145 1150 'We must bear him back as best we may,' said Beleg, bending his broad shoulders. Then the head he lifted of Hurin's offspring, and Flinding go-Fuilin the feet clasped; and doughty that deed, for in days long gone though Men were of mould less mighty builded ere the earth's goodness from the Elves they drew, though the Elfin kindreds ere old was the sun were of might unminished, nor the moon haunted faintly fading as formed of shadows in places unpeopled, yet peers they were not in bone and flesh and body's fashioning, and Turin was tallest of the ten races that in Hithlum's hills their homes builded. Like a log they lifted his limbs mighty, and straining staggered with stealth and fear, with bodies bending and bones aching,

37 from the cruel dreaming of the camp of dread, where spearmen drowsed sprawling drunken by their moon-blades keen with murder whetted mid their shaven shafts in sheaves piled. 1155 1160 1165 I 170 Now Beleg the brave backward led them, but his foot fumbled and he fell thudding with Turin atop of him, and trembling stumbled Flinding forward; there frozen lying long while they listened for alarm stirring, for hue and cry, and their hearts cowered; but unbroken the breathing of the bands sleeping, as darkness deepened to dead midnight, 1175 1180

d the lifeless hour when the loosened soulo ft sheds the shackles of the shivering flesh. Then dared their dread to draw its breath, and they found their feet in the fouled earth, and bent they both their backs once more to their task of toil, for Turin woke not. There the huntsman's hand was hurt deeply, as he groped on the ground, by a gleaming point -'twas Dailir his dart dearly prized he had found by his foot in fragments twain, and with barbs bended: it broke at last neath his body falling. It boded ill. 1185 1190 As in dim dreaming, and dazed with horror, they won their way with weary slowness, foot by footstep, till fate them granted the leaguer at last of those lairs to pass, and their burden laid they, breathless gasping, on bare-bosmed earth, and abode a while, ere by winding ways they won their path up the slanting slopes with silent labour, with spended strength sprawling to cast them in the darkling dell neath the deep thicket. Then sought his sword, and songs of magic o'er its eager edge with Elfin voice there Beleg murmured, while bluely glimmered the lamp of Flinding neath the laced thorns. There wondrous wove he words of sharpness, and the names of knives and Gnomish blades he uttered o'er it: even Ogbar's spear and the glaive of Gaurin whose gleaming stroke did rive the rocks of Rodrim's hall; the sword of Saithnar, and the silver blades of the enchanted children of chains forged in their deep dungeon; the dirk of Nargil, the knife of the North in Nogrod smithied; the sweeping sickle of the slashing tempest, the lambent lightning's leaping falchion even Celeg Aithorn that shall cleave the world. 1195 1200

38 1205 1210 1215 Then whistling whirled he the whetted sword-blade and three times three it threshed the gloom, till flame was kindled flickering strangely 1220 like licking firelight in the lamp's glimmer blue and baleful at the blade's edges. Lo! a leering laugh lone and dreadful by the wind wafted wavered nigh them; their limbs were loosened in listening horror; they fancied the feet of foes approaching, for the horns hearkening of the hunt afoot in the rustling murmur of roving breezes. Then quickly curtained with its covering pelt was the lantern's light, and leaping Beleg with his sword severed the searing bonds on wrist and arm like ropes of hemp so strong that whetting; in stupor lying entangled still lay Turin moveless. For the feet's fetters then feeling in the dark Beleg blundering with his blade's keenness unwary wounded the weary flesh of wayworn foot, and welling blood bedewed his hand -- too dark his magic: that sleep profound was sudden fathomed; in fear woke Turin, and a form he guessed o'er his body bending with blade naked. His death or torment he deemed was come, for oft had the Orcs for evil pastime him goaded gleeful and gashed with knives that they cast with cunning, with cruel spears. Lo! the bonds were burst that had bound his hands: his cry of battle calling hoarsely he flung him fiercely on the foe he dreamed, and Beleg falling breathless earthward was crushed beneath him. Crazed with anguish then seized that sword the son of Hurin, to his hand lying by the help of doom; at the throat he thrust; through he pierced it, that the blood was buried in the blood-wet mould; ere Flinding knew what fared that night, all was over. With oath and curse he bade the goblins now guard them well, or sup on his sword: 'Lo! the son of Hurin is freed from his fetters.' His fancy wandered in the camps and clearings of the cruel Glamhoth. Flight he sought not at Flinding leaping 1225 1230 1235 1240 1245 1250 1255 1260 with his last laughter, his life to sell gmid foes imagined; but Fuilin's son there stricken with amaze, starting backward,

39 cried: 'Magic of Morgoth! A! madness damned! with friends thou fightest! ' -- then falling suddenly the lamp o'erturned in the leaves shrouded that its light released illumined pale with its flickering flame the face of Beleg. Then the boles of the trees more breathless rooted stone-faced he stood staring frozen on that dreadful death, and his deed knowing wildeyed he gazed with waking horror, as in endless anguish an image carven. So fearful his face that Flinding crouched and watched him, wondering what webs of doom dark, remorseless, dreadly meshed him by the might of Morgoth; and he mourned for him, and for Beleg, who bow should bend no more, his black yew-wood in battle twanging -his life had winged to its long waiting in the halls of the Moon o'er the hills of the sea. 1265 1270 1275 1280 Hark! he heard the horns hooting loudly, no ghostly laughter of grim phantom, no wraithlike feet rustling dimly -the Orcs were up; their ears had hearkened the cries of Turin; their camp was tumult, their lust was alight ere the last shadows of night were lifted. Then numb with fear in hoarse whisper to unhearing ears he told his terror; for Turin now with limbs loosened leaden-eyed was bent crouching crumpled by the corse moveless; nor sight nor sound his senses knew, and wavering words he witless murmured, 'A! Beleg,' he whispered, 'my brother-in-arms.' Though Flinding shook him, he felt it not: had he comprehended he had cared little. Then winds were wakened in wild dungeons where thrumming thunders throbbed and rumbled; storm came striding with streaming banners from the four corners of the fainting world; 1285 I 290 1295 1300 then the clouds were cloven with a crash of lightning, and slung like stones from slings uncounted the hurtling hail came hissing earthward, with a deluge dark of driving rain. Now wafted high, now wavering far, the cries of the Glamhoth called and hooted, and the howl of wolves in the heavens' roaring was mingled mournful: they missed their paths, for swollen swept there swirling torrents down the blackening slopes, and the slot was blind, so that blundering back up the beaten road to the gates of gloom many goblins wildered were drowned or drawn in Deadly Nightshade to die in the dark; while dawn came not, while the storm-riders strove and thundered

40 all the sunless day, and soaked and drenched Flinding go-Fuilin with fear speechless there crouched aquake; cold and lifeless lay Beleg the bowman; brooding dumbly Turin Thalion neath the tangled thorns sat unseeing without sound or movement. 1305 1310 1315 1320: 1325 The dusty dunes of Dor-na-Fauglith hissed and spouted. Huge rose the spires of smoking vapour swathed and reeking, thick-billowing clouds from thirst unquenched, and dawn was kindled dimly lurid when a day and night had dragged away. The Orcs had gone, their anger baffled, o'er the weltering ways weary faring to their hopeless halls in Hell's kingdom; no thrall took they Turin Thalion -a burden bore he than their bonds heavier, in despair fettered with spirit empty in mourning hopeless he remained behind. 1330 '335 * NOTES. 617. Blodrin: Bauglir A, and B as typed. See line 618. 618. Bauglir Ban's son A, and B as typed (Bauglir > Blodrin 631. 636. 653. 661, 696. 711. carefully-made early change, Ban > Bor hasty and later). See lines 661, 696, 990. Fangair A, Fangros B as typed. Tengwethiel [sic] A, Tain-Gwethil B as typed. Cf. line 431. Turin Thaliodrin A, and B as typed. Cf. lines I 15, 333, 720. As at line 618. Aiglir-angrin A, Aiglir Angrin B as typed, emended roughly in pencil to Eiglir Engrin; cf. line 1055. In the Tale of Turambar occurs Angorodin (the Iron Mountains), II.77. 711-14. These lines read in A (and as typed in B, with of Hell is reared for of the Hells of Iron): where Aiglir-angrin the Iron Hills lie and Thangorodrim's thunderous mountain o'er the hopeless halls of the Hells of iron wrought at the roots of the ruthless hills. 718. 720. 780. 816. 818 -- 20. 826. 834. 0. 1055.

41 1098. 1137. 1147. 1198. 1214. 1324. 335. Cf. Bilbo's second riddle to Gollum. As at line 653. Delimorgoth A, Delu-Morgoth B as typed, dark Morgoth a late pencilled emendation. At lines 11 and 51 DeluMorgoth is an emendation of Delimorgoth in B. Tun also in A; see lines 50, 430. Against these lines my father wrote in the margin of B: 'Captured in battle at gates of Angband.' o'er the black boulders of the Blasted Plain A (marked with query). mercy: magic A, and B as typed; mercy in pencil and not quite certain. Daideloth A emended at time of writing to Dor-naMaiglos, Dor-na-Fauglith B as typed. In margin of A is written: 'a plateau from Dai "high", Deloth "plain"'; contrast II. 337, entry Dor-na-Dhaideloth.99 Blodrin Ban's son A, and B as typed; Ban's > Bor's later in B. At lines 617 -- 18, 661, 696 A, and B as typed, had Bauglir, changed to Blodrin in B. Aiglir Angrin A, and B as typed; see line 711. Bauglir A and B. This line is emended in B, but the reading is uncertain: apparently Then his bow unbending Beleg asked him: In the margin of B is written r?, i.e. dreadly for deadly. East: South A, and B as typed. bosmed (bosomed) written thus in both A and B. Nargil: Loruin A, with Nargil added as an alternative. Turin Thaliodrin A, and B as typed; see lines 653, 720.1 Thalion-Turin A, and B as typed.

Commentary on Part Il 'Beleg'. In this part of the poem there are some narrative developments of much interest. The poem follows the Tale (II. 76) in making Beleg become one of Turin's band on the marches of Doriath not long after Turin's departure from the Thousand Caves, and with no intervening event -- in The Silmarillion (p. 200) Beleg came to Menegroth, and after speaking to Thingol set out to seek Turin, while in the Narn (pp. 82 -- 5) there is the 'trial of Turin', and the intervention of Beleg bringing Nellas as witness, before he set out on Turin's trail. In the poem it is explicit that Beleg was not searching for him, and indeed knew nothing whatever of what had passed in the Thousand Caves (595). But Turin's band are no longer the 'wild spirits' of the Tale; they are hostile to all comers, whether Orcs or Men or Elves, including the Elves of Doriath (560 -- 1, 566), as in The Silmarillion, and in far greater detail in the Narn, where the band is called Gaurwaith, the Wolf-men, 'to be feared as wolves'. The element of Beleg's capture and maltreatment by the band now appears, and also that of Turin's absence from the camp at the time. Several features of the story in the Nant are indeed already present in the poem, though absent from the more condensed account in The Silmarillion: as Beleg's being tied to a tree by the outlaws (577, Narn pp. 92 -- 3), and the occasion of Turin's absence -- he was on the trail of the Orcs, as they hastened home to the Hills of Iron with the loot laden of the lands of Men

42 just as in the Narn (pp. 91 -- 2), where however the story is part of a complex set of movements among the Woodmen of Brethil, Beleg, the Gaurwaith, and the Orcs. Whereas in the Tale it was only now that Beleg and Turin became companions-in-arms, we have already seen that the poem has the later story whereby they had fought together on the marches of Doriath before Turin's flight from the Thousand Caves (p.27); and we now have also the development that Turin's altered mood at the sight of Beleg tied to the tree (Then Turin's heart was tumed from hate, 584), and-Beleg's own reproaches (Shall the foes of Faerie be friends of Men? 603), led to the band's turning their arms henceforth only against the foes of Faerie (644). Of the great oath sworn by the members of the band,, explicitly echoing that of the Sons of Feanor (634) -- and showing incidentally that in that oath the holy mountain of Taniquetil (TainGwethil) was taken in witness (636), there is no trace in The Silmarillion or the Narn: in the latter, indeed, the outlaws are not conceived in such a way as to make such an oath-taking at all probable. Lines 643 ff., describing the prowess of the fellowship in the forest, are the ultimate origin of the never finally achieved story of the Land of Dor-Cuarthol (The Silmarillion p. 205, Narn pp. 152-4); lines 651-4 even in Angband the Orcs trembled. Then the word wandered down the ways of the forest that Turin Thalion was returned to war; and Thingol heard it... lead in the end to In Menegroth, and in the deep halls of Nargothrond, and even in the hidden realm of Gondolin, the fame of the deeds of the Two Captains was heard; and in Angband also they were known. But in the later story Turin was hidden under the name Gorthol, the read Helm, and it was his wearing of the Dragon-helm that revealed him to Morgoth. There is no suggestion of this in the earlier phase of the legend; the Dragon-helm makes no further appearance here in the poem. A table may serve to clarify the development: Tale. Turin's prowess on the marches of Doriath (Beleg not mentioned). Death of Orgof. Turin leaves Doriath; a band forms round him which includes Beleg. Great prowess of the band. Lay. Turin and Beleg companions-in-arms on the marches of Doriath; Turin wears the Dragon-helm. Death of Orgof. Turin leaves Doriath; a band of outlaws forms round him which attacks all comers.

The band captures Beleg (who knows nothing of Turin's leaving Doriath)

43 and ties him to a tree.

Turin has him set free; suffers a change of heart; Beleg joins the band; all swear an oath.

Great prowess of the band against the Orcs.

Silmarillion and Narn As in the poem. Death of Saeros. Turin leaves Doriath and joins a band of desperate outlaws. The band captures Beleg (whe is searching for Turin bearing Thingol's pardon) (and ties him to a tree, Narn). Turin has him set free; suffers a change of heart; but Beleg will not join the band and departs. (No mention of oath.) (Later Beleg returns and joins the band:) Land of Dor-Cuarthol. Before leaving this part of the story, it may be suggested that lines 605 ff., in which Turin declares to Beleg that This band alone /I count as comrades, contain the germ of Turin's words to him in the Xarn, p.94: The grace of Thingol will not stretch to receive these companions of my fall, I think; but I will not part with them now, if they do not wish to part with me, &c. The traitor, who betrayed the band to the Orcs, now first appears. At first he is called Bauglir both in A and in B as originally typed; and it might be thought that the name had much too obviously an evil significance. The explanation is quite clearly, however, that Bauglir became Blodrin at the same time as Bauglir replaced Belcha as a name of: Morgoth. (By the time my father reached line 990 Blodrin is the name as first written in both A and B; while similarly at line 1055 Bauglir is Morgoth's name, not Belcha, both in A and B as first written.) The change of Ban (father of Blodrin) to Bor was passing; he is Ban in the 1926 'Sketch of the Mythology', and so remained until, much later, he disappeared. Blodrin's origin is interesting: trapped as a child he was dragged by the Dwarves to their deep mansions, and in Nogrod nurtured, and in nought was like, spite blood and birth, to the blissful Elves. (666 -- g) Thus Blodrin's evil nature is explicitly ascribed to the influence of the bearded Dwarves / of troth unmindful (1148-9); and Blodrin follows Ufedhin of the Tale of the Nauglafring as an example of the sinister .

44 effect of Elvish association with Dwarves -- not altogether absent in the tale of Eol and Maeglin as it appears in The Silmarillion. Though the nature -- and name -- of the traitor in Turin's band went through Protean mutations afterwards, it is not inconceivable that recollection of the Dwarvish element in Blodrin's history played some part in the emergence of Mim in this role. On the early hostile view of the Dwarves see II. 247. The words of the poem just cited arise from the 'betrayal' of Flinding by his dwarvish knife, which slipped from its sheath; so later, in the Lay of Leithian, when Beren attempted to cut a second Silmaril from the Iron Crown (lines 4160-2) The dwarvish steel of cunning blade by treacherous smiths of Nogrod made snapped... The idea expressed in the Tale (II. 76) that Turin was taken alive by Morgoth's command 'lest he cheat the doom that was devised for him' reappears in the poem: lest he flee his fate (705). The rest of the story as told in the poem differs only in detail from that

in the Tale. The survival of Beleg in the attack by Orcs and his swift recovery from his grievous wounds (II. 77), present in much changed circ*mstances in The Silmarillion (p. 206), is here made perhaps more comprehensible, in that Elves from Doriath, who were searching for Turin (654 -- 5), found Beleg and took him back to be healed by Melian in the Thousand Caves (727 -- 3I). In the account of Beleg's meeting with Flinding in Taur-na-Fuin, led to him by his blue lamp, the poem is following the Tale very closely.* My father's painting of the scene (Pictures by J. R. R. Tolkien no. 37) was almost certainly made a few years later, when the Elf lying under the tree was still called Flinding son of Fuilin (in the Tale bo-Dhuilin, earlier go-Dhuilin, son of Duilin; the . patronymic prefix has in the poem (814, 900) reverted to the earlier form go-, see II. 119). In the Tale it is only said (II. 81 ) that Flinding was of the people of the - Rodothlim 'before the Orcs captured him'-, from the poem (819 -- 21) it ; seems that he was carried off, with many others, from Nargothrond, but this can scarcely be the meaning, since nought yet knew they [the Orcs] of Nargothrond (1578). The marginal note in B against these lines 'Captured in battle at gates of Angband' refers to the later story, first ' appearing in the 1930 'Silmarillion'. The poem follows the Tale in the detail of Flinding's story to Beleg, except that in the poem he was recaptured by the Orcs in Taur-na-Fuin (846ff.) and escaped again (crept from their clutches as a crawling worm, 879), whereas in the Tale he was not recaptured but 'fled heedlessly'(II. 79). The notable point in the Tale that Flinding 'was overjoyed to have speech with a free Noldo' reappears in the poem: Marvelling he heard/the ancient tongue of the Elves of Tun. The detail of their encountering of the Orc-host is slightly different: in the Tale the Orcs had changed their path, in the poem it seems that Beleg and Flinding merely came more quickly than did the Orcs to the point where the Orc-road emerged from the edge of the forest. In the Tale it seems indeed that the Orcs had not left the forest when they encamped for the night: the eyes of the wolves 'shone like points of red light among the trees', and 'Beleg and Flinding laid Turin down after his rescue 'in the woods at no :great distance from the camp'. The cup outcarven on the cold hillof the poem (1036), where the Orcs made their bivouac, is the 'bare ;dell' of The Silmarillion. In contrast to the Tale (see p. 26) Beleg is now frequently called :Beleg the bowman, his great bow (not yet named) is fully described, ."and his unmatched skill as an archer (1071 ff.). There is also in the poem the feature of the arrow Dailir, unfailingly found and always unharmed (1080 ff.), until it broke when Beleg fell upon it while carrying Turin :,(1189 -- 92): of this there is never a mention later. The element of Beleg's

45 The element of the blue lamp is lacking from the account in The Silmarillion; see Unfinished Tales p. 51 note 2.)

archery either arose from, or itself caused, the change in the story of the entry of Beleg and Flinding into the Orc-camp that now appears: in the Tale they merely 'crept between the wolves at a point where there was a great gap between them', whereas in the poem Beleg performed the feat of shooting seven wolves in the darkness, and only so was 'a great gap opened' (1097). But the words of the Tale, 'as the luck of the Valar had it Turin was lying nigh', are echoed in till the Gods brought them and the craft and cunning of the keen huntsman to Turin the tall where he tumbled lay(I 130 -- 2): The lifting and carrying of Turin by the two Elves, referred to in the Tale as 'a great feat', 'seeing that he was a Man and of greater stature than they' (II. So), is expanded in the poem (1156 ff.) into a comment on the stature of Men and Elves in the ancient time, which agrees with earlier statements on this topic (see I. 235, II. 142, 220). The notable lines though Men were of mould less mighty builded ere the earth's goodness from the Elves they drew (1157 -- 8) are to be related to the statements cited in II. 326: 'As Men's stature grows [the Elves'] diminishes', and 'ever as Men wax more powerful and numerous so the fairies fade and grow small and tenuous, filmy and transparent, but Men larger and more dense and gross'. The mention here (1164) of the ten races of Hithlum occurs nowhere else, and it is not clear whether it refers to all the peoples of Men and Elves who in one place or another in the Lost Tales are set in Hithlum, which as I have remarked 'seems to have been in danger of having too many inhabitants' (see II. 249 251). The Tale has it that it was Beleg's knife that had slipped from him as he crept into the camp; in the poem it is Flinding's (1142 ff.). In the Tale Beleg returned to fetch his sword from the place where he had left it, since they could carry Turin no further; in the poem they carried Turin all the way up to the dark thicket in a dell whence they had set out (1110, 1202). The 'whetting spell' of Beleg over his (still unnamed) sword is an entirely new element (and without trace later); it arises in association with line 1141, No blade mould bite on the bonds he more. In style it is reminiscent of Luthien's 'lengthening spell' in Canto V of the Lay of Leithian; but of the names in the spell, of Ogbar, Caurin, Rodrim, Saithnar, Nargil, Celeg Aithorn, there seems to be now no other trace. There now occurs in the poem the mysterious leering laugh (1224), to which it seems that the ghostly laughter of grim phantom in line 1286 refers, and which is mentioned again in the next part of the poem (1488 -- 90). The narrative purpose of this is evidently to cause the covering of the lamp and to cause Beleg to work too quickly in the darkness at the cutting of the bonds. It may be also that the wounding of

leg's hand when he put it on the point of Dailir his arrow (1187)acc ounts for his clumsiness; for every aspect of this powerful scene hadbee n pondered and refined. In the poem the great storm is introduced: first presaged in lines1064 ff., when Beleg and Flinding were at the edge of the dell (as it is inThe Silmarillion): Lo! black cloud-drifts surged up like smoke from the sable North, and the sheen was shrouded of the shivering moon; the wind came wailing from the woeful mountains,

46 and the heath unhappy hissed and whispered and bursting at last after Beleg's death (1301 ff.), to last all through the following day, during which Turin and Flinding crouched on the hillside (1320, 1330 -- r). On account of the storm the Orcs were unable to find Turin, and departed, as in The Silmarillion; in the Tale Flinding roused Turin to flee as soon as the shouts of discovery were heard from theOrc -camp, and nothing more is said of the matter. But in the poem it is still, as in the Tale, the sudden uncovering of Flinding's lamp as he fellbac k from Turin's assault that illumined Beleg's face; in the last accounttha t my father wrote of this episode he was undecided whether it was the cover falling off the lamp or a great flash of lightning that gave the light, and in the published work I chose the latter. There remain a few isolated points, mostly concerning names. In thispart of the poem we meet for the first time: Nargothrond 821, 904; Taur-ma-Fuin (for Taur Fuin of the Lost Tales) 766, 828; called alsoDe adly Nightshade 767, 837, 13I7, and Forest of Night 896; Dor-na-Fauglith 946, 1035, 1326, called also the Plains of Drouth826, the Thirsty Plain 947 (and in A, note to 826, the Blasted Plain). The name Dor-na-Fauglith arose during the composition of the poem(see note to 946). By this time the story of the blasting of the great northern plain, so that it became a dusty desert, in the battle that endedthe Siege of Angband, must have been conceived, though it does not appear in writing for several years. Here also is the first reference to the triple peaks of Thangorodrim(1000 ), called the thunderous towers (951), though in the 'Prologue'to the poem it is said that Hurin was set on its steepest peak (96); and from lines 713- 14 (as rewritten in the B-text) we learn that Angband waswro ught at the roots of the great mountain. The name Fangros (631; Fangair A) occurs once elsewhere, in a veryobs cure note, where it is apparently connected with the burning of the ships of the Noldoli. Melian's name Mablui -- by the hands enchanted of Melian

Mablui, 731 -- clearly contains mab 'hand', as in Mablung, Ermabwed (see II. 339). That the Dwarves were said in A and originally in B to dwell in the South (1147, emended in B to East) is perhaps to be related to the statement in the Tale of the Nauglafring that Nogrod lay 'a very long journey southwoard beyond the wide forest on the borders of those great heaths nigh Umboth-muilin the Pools of Twilight' (II. 225). I cannot explain the reference in line 1006 to the wild wheatfields of the wargod's realm; nor that in the lines concerning Beleg's fate after death to the long waiting of the dead in the halls of the Moon (1284). III. FAILIVRIN. Flinding go-Fuilin faithful-hearted the brand of Beleg with blood stained lifted.with loathing from the leafy mould, and hid it in the hollow of a huge thorn-tree; then he turned to Turin yet tranced brooding, and softly said he: 'O son of Hurin, unhappy-hearted, what helpeth it to sit thus in sorrow's silent torment without hope or counsel?' But Hurin's son, by those words wakened, wildly answered: 'I abide by Beleg; nor bid me leave him, thou voice unfaithful. Vain are all things. 0 Death dark-handed, draw thou near me; if remorse may move thee, from mourning loosed crush me conquered to his cold bosom! '

47 Flinding answered, and fear left him for wrath and pity: 'Arouse thy pride! Not thus unthinking on Thangorodrim's heights enchained did Hurin speak.' 'Curse thy comfort! Less cold were steel. If Death comes not to the death-craving, I will seek him by the sword. The sword -- where lies it? 0 cold and cruel, where cowerest now, murderer of thy master? Amends shalt work, md slay me swift, O sleep-giver.' Look not, luckless, thy life to steal, 1340 1345 1350 1355 1360 nor sully anew his sword unhappy in the flesh of the friend whose freedom seeking he fell by fate, by foes unwounded. Yea, think that amends are thine to make,h is wronged blade with wrath appeasing, its thirst cooling in the thrice-abhorred blood of Bauglir's baleful legions. Is the feud achieved thy father's chains on thee laid, or lessened by this last evil? Dream not that Morgoth will mourn thy death, or thy dirges chant the dread Glamhoth -less would like them thy living hatredan d vows of vengeance; nor vain is courage, hough victory seldom be valour's ending.' 1365 1370 1375 Then fiercely Turin to his feet leapingc ried new-crazed: 'Ye coward Orcs, why turn ye tail? Why tarry ye now,w hen the son of Hurin and the sword of Beleg in wrath await you? For wrong and woe here is vengeance ready. If ye venture it not, I will follow your feet to the four corners f the angry earth. Have after you! ' Sainting Flinding there fought with him, and words of wisdom to his witless ears he breathless spake: 'Abide, 0 Turin, for need hast thou now to nurse thy hurt, and strength to gather and strong counsel. Who flees to fight wears not fear's token, and vengeance delayed its vow achieves.' The madness passed; amazed pondering neath the tangled trees sat Turin wordless brooding blackly on bitter vengeance, till the dusk deepened on his day of waking, and the early stars were opened pale. 1380 1385o 1390 1395 Then Beleg's burial in those bleak regions did Flinding fashion; where he fell sadly he left him lying, and lightly o'er him with long labour the leaves he poured.

48 But Turin tearless turning suddenly on the corse cast him, and kissed the mouth cold and open, and closed the eyes. 1400 1405 His bow laid he black beside him, and words of parting wove about him: 'Now fare well, Beleg, to feasting long neath Tengwethil in the timeless halls where drink the Gods, neath domes golden o'er the sea shining.' His song was shaken, but the tears were dried in his tortured eyes by the flames of anguish that filled his soul. His mind once more was meshed in darkness as heaped they high o'er the head beloved a mound of mould and mingled leaves. Light lay the earth on the lonely dead; heavy lay the woe on the heart that lived. That grief was graven with grim token on his face and form, nor faded ever: and this was the third of the throes of Turin. 1410 1415 1420 Thence he wandered witless without wish or purpose; but for Flinding the faithful he had fared to death, or been lost in the lands of lurking evil. Renewed in that Gnome of Nargothrond was heart and valour by hatred wakened, that he guarded and guided his grim comrade; with the light of his lamp he lit their ways, and they hid by day to hasten by night, by darkness shrouded or dim vapours. 1425 1430 The tale tells not of their trave) weary, how roamed their road by the rim of the forest, whose beetling branches, black o'erhanging, did greedy grope with gloomy malice to ensnare their souls in silent darkness. Yet west they wandered, by ways of thirst and haggard hunger, hunted often, and hiding in holes and hollow caverns, by their fate defended. At the furthest end of Dor-na-Fauglith's dusty spaces to a mighty mound in the moon looming they came at midnight: it was crowned with mist, bedewed as by drops of drooping tears. 'A! green that hill with grass fadeless, where sleep the swords of seven kindreds, where the folk of Faerie once fell uncounted. 1435 1445 There was fought the field by folk named Nirnaith Ornoth, Unnumbered Tears. 'Twas built with the blood of the beaten people; neath moon nor sun is it mounted ever by Man nor Elf; not Morgoth's host ever dare for dread to delve therein.' Thus Flinding faltered, faintly stirring

49 Turin's heaviness, that he turned his hand toward Thangorodrim, and thrice he cursed the maker of mourning, Morgoth Bauglir. 1450 1455 Thence later led them their lagging footsteps o'er the slender stream of Sirion's youth; not long had he leapt a lace of silver from his shining well in those shrouded hills, the Shadowy Mountains whose sheer summits there bend humbled towards the brooding heights in mist mantled, the mountains of the North. Here the Orcs might pass him; they else dared not o'er Sirion swim, whose swelling water through moor and marsh, mead and woodland, through caverns carven in the cold bosom of Earth far under, through empty lands and leagues untrodden, beloved of Ylmir, fleeting floweth, with fame undying in the songs of the Gnomes, to the sea at last. Thus reached they the roots and the ruinous feet of those hoary hills that Hithlum girdle, the shaggy pinewoods of the Shadowy Mountains. There the twain enfolded phantom twilight and dim mazes dark, unholy, in Nan Dungorthin where nameless gods have shrouded shrines in shadows secret, more old than Morgoth or the ancient lords the golden Gods of the guarded West. But the ghostly dwellers of that grey valley hindered nor hurt them, and they held their course with creeping flesh and quaking limb. Yet laughter at whiles with lingering echo, as distant mockery of demon voices1 there harsh and hollow in the hushed twilight Flinding fancied, fell, unwholesome 1460 1465 1470 1475 1480 485 as that leering laughter lost and dreadful that rang in the rocks in the ruthless hour of Beleg's slaughter. "Tis Bauglir's voice that dogs us darkly with deadly scorn' he shuddering thought; but the shreds of fear and black foreboding were banished utterly when they clomb the cliffs and crumbling rocks that walled that vale of watchful evil, and southward saw the slopes of Hithlum more warm and friendly. That way they fared during the daylight o'er dale and ghyll, o'er mountain pasture, moor and boulder, over fell and fall of flashing waters that slipped down to Sirion, to swell his tide in his eastward basin onward sweeping to the South, to the sea, to his sandy delta. 1490 1495 1500

50 After seven journeys lo! sleep took them on a night of stars when they nigh had stridden to those lands beloved that long had known Flinding aforetime. At first morning the white arrows of the wheeling sun gazed down gladly on green hollows and smiling slopes that swept before them. There builded boles of beeches ancient marched in majesty in myriad leaves of golden russet greyly rooted, in leaves translucent lightly robed; their boughs up-bending blown at morning by the wings of winds that wandered down o'er blossomy bent breathing odours to the wavering water's winking margin. There rush and reed their rustling plumes and leaves like lances louted trembling peen with sunlight. Then glad the soul of Flinding the fugitive; in his face the morning here glimmered golden, his gleaming hair was washed with sunlight. 'Awake from sadness, Turion Thalion, and troublous thoughts! On Ivrin's lake is endless laughter. o! cool and clear by crystal fountains he is fed unfailing, from defilement warded 1505 1510 1515 1520 1525 by Ylmir the old, who in ancient days, wielder of waters, here worked her beauty. From outmost Ocean yet often comes his message hither his magic bearing, the healing of hearts and hope and valour for foes of Bauglir. Friend is Ylmir who alone remembers in the Lands of Mirth the need of the Gnomes. Here Narog's waters (that in tongue of the Gnomes is 'torrent' named) are born, and blithely boulders leaping o'er the bents bounding with broken foam swirl down southward to the secret halls of Nargothrond by the Gnomes builded that death and thraldom in the dreadful throes of Nirnaith Ornoth, a number scanty, escaped unscathed. Thence skirting wild the Hills of the Hunters, the home of Beren and the Dancer of Doriath daughter of Thingol, it winds and wanders ere the willowy meads, Nan- Tathrin's land, for nineteen leagues it journeys joyful to join its flood with Sirion in the South. To the salt marshes where snipe and seamew and the sea-breezes first pipe and play they press together sweeping soundless to the seats of Ylmir, where the waters of Sirion and the waves of the sea murmurous mingle. A marge of sand there lies, all lit by the long sunshine; there all day rustles wrinkled Ocean, and the sea-birds call in solemn conclave, whitewinged hosts whistling sadly,

51 uncounted voices crying endlessly. There a shining shingle on that shore lieth, whose pebbles as pearl or pale marble by spray and spindrift splashed at evening in the moon do gleam, or moan and grind when the Dweller in the Deep drives in fury the waters white to the walls of the land; when the long-haired riders on their lathered horses with bit and bridle of blowing foam, in wrack wreathed and ropes of seaweed, to the thunder gallop of the thudding of the surf.' 1530 '535 1540 1545 1550 1555 1560 1565 1570

Thus Flinding spake the spell feeling of Ylmir the old and unforgetful, which hale and holy haunted Ivrin and foaming Narog, so that fared there never Orc of Morgoth, and that eager stream no plunderer passed. If their purpose held to reach the realms that roamed beyond (nought yet knew they of Nargothrond) they harried o'er Hithlum the heights scaling that lay behind the lake's hollow, the Shadowy Mountains in the sheen mirrored of the pools of Ivrin. Pale and eager Turin hearkened to the tale of Flinding: the washing of waters in his words sounded, an echo as of Ylmir's awful conches in the abyss blowing. There born anew was hope in his heart as they hastened down to the lake of laughter. A long and narrow arm it reaches that ancient rocks o'ergrown with green girdle strongly, at whose outer end there open sudden a gap, a gateway in the grey boulders; whence thrusteth thin in threadlike jets newborn Narog, nineteen fathoms o'er a flickering force falls in wonder, and a glimmering goblet with glass-lucent fountains fills he by his freshets carven in the cool bosom of the crystal stones. 1575 1580 1585 1590 1595 There deeply drank ere day was fallen Turin the toilworn and his true comrade; hurt's ease found he, heart's refreshment, from the meshes of misery his mind was loosed, as they sat on the sward by the sound of water, and watched in wonder the westering sun o'er the wall wading of the wild mountains,

52 whose peaks empurpled pricked the evening. Then it dropped to the dark and deep shadows up the cliffs creeping quenched in twilight the last beacons leashed with crimson. To the stars upstanding stony-mantled the mountains waited till the moon arose 1600 1605 1610 o'er the endless East, and Ivrin's pools dreaming deeply dim reflected their pallid faces. In pondering fast woven, wordless, they waked no sound, till cold breezes keenly breathing clear and fragrant curled about them; then sought they for sleep a sand-paved cove outcarven; there kindled fire, that brightly blossomed the beechen fa*ggots in flowers of flame; floated upward a slender smoke, when sudden Turin on the firelit face of Flinding gazed, and wondering words he wavering spake: '0 Gnome, I know not thy name or purpose or father's blood -- what fate binds thee to a witless wayworn wanderer's footsteps, the bane of Beleg, his brother-in-arms?' 1615 1620 1625 Then Flinding fearful lest fresh madness should seize for sorrow on the soul of Turin, retold the tale of his toil and wandering; how the trackless folds of Taur-na-Fuin, Deadly Nightshade, dreadly meshed him; of Beleg the bowman bold, undaunted, and that deed they dared on the dim hillside, that song has since unceasing wakened; of the fate that fell, he faltering spake, in the tangled thicket neath the twining thorns when Morgoth's might was moved abroad. Then his voice vanished veiled in mourning, and lo! tears trickled on Turin's face till loosed at last were the leashed torrents of his whelming woe. Long while he wept soundless, shaken, the sand clutching with griping fingers in grief unfathomed.1 But Flinding the faithful feared no longer; no comfort cold he kindly found, for sleep swept him into slumber dead. There a singing voice sweetly vexed him and he woke and wondered: the watchfire faded; the night was aging, nought was moving but a song upsoaring in the soundless dark 1630 1635 1640 645 1650 went strong and stern to the starlit heaven. 'Twas Turin that towering on the tarn's margin,

53 up high o'er the head of the hushed water now falling faintly, let flare and echo a song of sorrow and sad splendour, the dirge of Beleg's deathless glory. There wondrous wove he words enchanted, that woods and water waked and answered, the rocks were wrung with ruth for Beleg. That song he sang is since remembered, by Gnomes renewed in Nargothrond it widely has wakened warfain armies to battle with Bauglir -- 'The Bowman's Friendship'. 1655 1660 1665 'Tis told that Turin then turned him back and fared to Flinding, and flung him down to sleep soundless till the sun mounted to the high heavens and hasted westward. A vision he viewed in the vast spaces of slumber roving: it seemed he roamed up the bleak boulders of a bare hillside to a cup outcarven in a cruel hollow, whose broken brink bushes limb-wracked by the North-wind's knife in knotted anguish did fringe forbidding. There black unfriendly was a dark thicket, a dell of thorn-trees with yews mingled that the years had fretted. The leafless limbs they lifted hopeless were blotched and blackened, barkless, naked, a lifeless remnant of the levin's flame, charred chill fingers changeless pointing to the cold twilight.. There called he longing: '0 Beleg, my brother, 0 Beleg, tell me where is buried thy body in these bitter regions? ' -and the echoes always him answered 'Beleg'; yet a veiled voice vague and distant he caught that called like a cry at night o'er the sea's silence: 'Seek no longer. My bow is rotten in the barrow ruinous; my grove is burned by grim lightning; here dread dwelleth, none dare profane this angry earth, Orc nor goblin; 1670 1675 1680 1685 1690 none gain the gate of the gloomy forest by this perilous path; pass they may not, yet my life has winged to the long waiting in the halls of the Moon o'er the hills of the sea. Courage be thy comfort, comrade lonely! ' 1695 Then he woke in wonder; his wit was healed, courage him comforted, and he called aloud Flinding go-Fuilin, to his feet striding. There the sun slanted its silver arrows through the wild tresses of the waters tumbling roofed with a radiant rainbow trembling. 'Whither, 0 Flinding, our feet now turn we, or dwell we for ever by the dancing water,

54 by the lake of laughter, alone, untroubled?' 'To Nargothrond of the Gnomes, methinks,' said Flinding, 'my feet would fain wander, that Celegorm and Curufin, the crafty sons f Feanor founded when they fled southward; there built a bulwark against Bauglir's hate, who live now lurking in league secret with those five others in the forests of the East, fell unflnching foes of Morgoth. Maidros whom Morgoth maimed and tortured is lord and leader, his left wieldeth his sweeping sword; there is swift Maglor, there Damrod and Diriel and dark Cranthir, the seven seekers of their sire's treasure. ow Orodreth rules the realms and caverns, the numbered hosts of Nargothrond. 'There to woman's stature will be waxen full frail Finduilas the fleet maiden his daughter dear, in his darkling halls a light, a laughter, that I loved of yore, and yet love in longing, and love calls me.' 1700 1705 1710o 1715 1720N 1725 Where Narog's torrent gnashed and spouted down his stream bestrewn with stone and boulder, swiftly southward they sought their paths, and summer smiling smoothed their journey through day on day, down dale and wood where birds blithely with brimming music thrilled and trembled in thronging trees. 1730

No eyes them watched onward wending till they gained the gorge where Ginglith turns all glad and golden to greet the Narog. There her gentler torrent joins his tumult, and they glide together on the guarded plain to the Hunters' Hills that high to southward uprear their rocks robed in verdure. There watchful waited the Wards of Narog, lest the need of the Gnomes from the North should come, for the sea in the South them safe guarded, and eager Narog the East defended. Their treegirt towers on the tall hilltops no light betrayed in the trees lurking, no horns hooted in the hills ringing in loud alarm; a leaguer silent unseen, stealthy, beset the stranger, as of wild things wary that watch moveless, then follow fleetly with feet of velvet their heedless prey with padding hatred. In this fashion fought they, phantom hunters that wandering Orc and wild foeman unheard harried, hemmed in ambush. The slain are silent, and silent were the shafts of the nimble Gnomes of Nargothrond, who word or whisper warded sleepless

55 from their homes deep-hidden, that hearsay never was to Bauglir brought. Bright hope knew they, and east over Narog to open battle no cause or counsel had called them yet, though of shield and shaft and sheathed swords, of warriors wieldy now waxed their host to power and prowess, and paths afar their scouts and woodmen scoured in hunting. 1735 1740 1745 1750 1755 1760 1765 Thus the twain were tracked till the trees thickened and the river went rushing neath a rising bank, in foam hastened o'er the feet of the hills. In a gloom of green there they groped forward; there his fate defended from flying death Turin Thalion -- a twisted thong of writhing roots enwrapped his foot; as he fell there flashed, fleet, whitewinged, 1770 1775 a shrill-shafted arrow that shore his hair, and trembled sudden in a tree behind. Then Flinding o'er the fallen fiercely shouted: 'Who shoots unsure his shafts at friends? Flinding go-Fuilin of the folk of Narog and the son of Hurin his sworn comrade here flee to freedom from the foes of the North.' 1780 His words in the woods awoke no echo; no leaf there lisped, nor loosened twig there cracked, no creak of crawling movement stirred the silence. Still and soundless in the glades about were the green shadows. Thus fared they on, and felt that eyes unseen saw them, and swift footsteps unheard hastened behind them ever, till each shaken bush or shadowy thicket they fled furtive in fear needless, for thereafter was aimed no arrow winged, and they came to a country kindly tended; through flowery frith and fair acres they fared, and found of folk empty the leas and leasows and the lawns of Narog, the teeming tilth by trees enfolded twixt hills and river. The hoes unrecked in the fields were flung, and fallen ladders in the long grass lay of the lush orchards; every tree there turned its tangled head and eyed them secretly, and the ears listened of the nodding grasses; though noontide glowed on land and leaf, their limbs were chilled. Never hall or homestead its high gables in the light uplifting in that land saw they, but a pathway plain by passing feet was broadly beaten. Thither bent their steps Flinding go-Fuilin, whose feet remembered

56 that white roadway. In a while they reached to the acres' end, that ever narrowing twixt wall and water did wane at last to blossomy banks by the borders of the way. A spuming torrent, in spate tumbling from the highest hill of the Hunters' Wold 1785 1790 1795 1800 1805 1810 1815

clove and crossed it; there of carven stone with slim and shapely slender archway a bridge was builded, a bow gleaming in the froth and flashing foam of Ingwil, that headlong hurried and hissed beneath. Where it found the flood, far-journeyed Narog, there steeply stood the strong shoulders of the hills, o'erhanging the hurrying water; there shrouded in trees a sheer terrace, wide and winding, worn to smoothness, was fashioned in the face of the falling slope. Doors there darkly dim gigantic were hewn in the hillside; huge their timbers, and their posts and lintels of ponderous stone. 1820 1825 1830 They were shut unshakeable. Then shrilled a trumpet as a phantom fanfare faintly winding in the hill from hollow halls far under; a creaking portal with clangour backward was flung, and forth there flashed a throng, leaping lightly, lances wielding, and swift encircling seized bewildered the wanderers wayworn, wordless haled them through the gaping gateway to the glooms beyond. Ground and grumbled on its great hinges the door gigantic; with din ponderous it clanged and closed like clap of thunder, and echoes awful in empty corridors there ran and rumbled under roofs unseen; the light was lost. Then led them on down long and winding lanes of darkness their guards guiding their groping feet, till the faint flicker of fiery torches flared before them; fitful murmur as of many voices in meeting thronged they heard as they hastened. High sprang the roof. Round a sudden turning they swung amazed, and saw a solemn silent conclave, where hundreds hushed in huge twilight neath distant domes darkly vaulted them wordless waited. There waters flowed with washing echoes winding swiftly 1835 1840 1845

57 1850 855 amid the multitude, and mounting pale for fifty fathoms a fountain sprang, and wavering wan, with winking redness flushed and flickering in the fiery lights, it fell at the feet in the far shadows of a king with crown and carven throne. 1860 A voice they heard neath the vault rolling, and the king them called: Who come ye here from the North unloved to Nargothrond, a Gnome of bondage and a nameless Man? No welcome finds here wandering outlaw; save his wish be death he wins it not, for those that have looked on our last refuge it boots not to beg other boon of me.' Then Flinding go-Fuilin freely answered: 'Has the watch then waned in the woods of Narog, since Orodreth ruled this realm and folk? Or how have the hunted thus hither wandered, if the warders willed it not thy word obeying; or how hast not heard that thy hidden archer, who shot his shaft in the shades of the forest, there learned our lineage, 0 Lord of Narog, and knowing our names his notched arrows, loosed no longer?' Then low and hushed a murmur moved in the multitude, and some were who said: "Tis the same in truth: the long looked-for, the lost is found, the narrow path he knew to Nargothrond who was born and bred here from babe to youth'; and some were who said: 'The son of Fuilin was lost and looked for long years agone. What sign or token that the same returns have we heard or seen? Is this haggard fugitive with back bended the bold leader, the scout who scoured, scorning danger, most far afield of the folk of Narog?' 'That tale was told us,' returned answer the Lord Orodreth, 'but belief were rash. That alone of the lost, whom leagues afar the Orcs of Angband in evil bonds have dragged to the deeps, thou darest home, 1865 1870 1875 1880 1885 1890 1895 by grace or valour, from grim thraldom, what proof dost thou proffer? What plea dost show that a Man, a mortal, on our mansions hidden should look and live, our league sharing?' 1900 Thus the curse on the kindred for the cruel slaughter at the Swans' Haven there swayed his heart, but Flinding go-Fuilin fiercely answered: 'Is the son of Hurin, who sits on high

58 in a deathless doom dreadly chained, unknown, nameless, in need of plea to fend from him the fate of foe and spy? Flinding the faithful, the far wanderer, though form and face fires of anguish and bitter bondage, Balrogs' torment, have seared and twisted, for a song of welcome had hoped in his heart at that home-coming that he dreamed of long in dark labour. Are these deep places to dungeons turned, a lesser Angband in the land of the Gnomes?' 1905 1910 1915 Thereat was wrath aroused in Orodreth's heart, and the muttering waxed to many voices, and this and that the throng shouted; when sweet and sudden a song awoke, a voice of music o'er that vast murmur mounted in melody to the misty domes; with clear echoes the caverned arches it filled, and trembled frail and slender, those words weaving of welcome home that the wayweary had wooed from care since the Gnomes first knew need and wandering. Then hushed was the host; no head was turned, for long known and loved was that lifted voice, and Flinding knew it at the feet of the king like stone graven standing silent with heart laden; but Hurin's son was waked to wonder and to wistful thought, and searching the shadows that the seat shrouded, the kingly throne, there caught he thrice a gleam, a glimmer, as of garments white. 'Twas frail Finduilas, fleet and slender, to woman's stature, wondrous beauty, 1920 1925 1930 1935 now grown in glory, that glad welcome there raised in ruth, and wrath was stilled. Locked fast the love had lain in her heart that in laughter grew long years agone when in the meads merrily a maiden played with fleet-footed Fuilin's youngling. No searing scars of sundering years could blind those eyes bright with welcome, and wet with tears wistful trembling at the grief there graven in grim furrows on the face of Flinding. 'Father, ' said she, 'what dream of doubt dreadly binds thee? 'Tis Flinding go-Fuilin, whose faith of yore none dared to doubt. This dark, lonely, mournful-fated Man beside him if his oath avows the very offspring of Hurin Thalion, what heart in this throng shall lack belief or love refuse? But are none yet nigh us that knew of yore that mighty of Men, mark of kinship to seek and see in these sorrow-laden

59 form and features? The friends of Morgoth not thus, methinks, through thirst and hunger come without comrades, nor have countenance thus grave and guileless, glance unflinching.' 1940 1945 1950 1955 1960 Then did Turin's heart tremble wondering at the sweet pity soft and gentle of that tender voice touched with wisdom that years of yearning had yielded slow; and Orodreth, whose heart knew ruth seldom, yet loved deeply that lady dear, gave ear and answer to her eager words, and his doubt and dread of dire treachery, and his quick anger, he quelled within him. No few were there found who had fought of old where Finweg fell in flame of swords, and Hurin Thalion had hewn the throngs, the dark Glamhoth's demon legions, and who called there looked and cried aloud: "Tis the face of the father new found on earth, and his strong stature and stalwart arms; 1965 1970 1975 1980 though such care and sorrow never claimed his sire, whose laughing eyes were lighted clear at board or battle, in bliss or in woe.' Nor could lack belief for long the words and faith of Flinding when friend and kin and his father hastening that face beheld. Lo! sire and son did sweet embrace neath trees entwining tangled branches at the dark doorways of those deep mansions that Fuilin's folk afar builded, and dwelt in the deep of the dark woodland to the West on the slopes of the Wold of Hunters. Of the four kindreds that followed the king, the watchtowers' lords, the wold's keepers and the guards of the bridge, the gleaming bow that was flung o'er the foaming froth of Ingwil, from Fuilin's children were first chosen, most noble of name, renowed in valour. 1985 1990 1995 In those halls in the hills at that homecoming mirth was mingled with melting tears for the unyielding years whose yoke of pain the form and face of Fuilin's son had changed and burdened, chilled the laughter that leapt once lightly to his lips and eyes. Now in kindly love was care lessened, with song assuaged sadness of hearts; the lights were lit and lamps kindled o'er the burdened board; there bade they feast Turin Thalion with his true comrade

60 at the long tables' laden plenty, where dish and goblet on the dark-gleaming wood well-waxed, where the wine-flagons engraven glistened gold and silver. Then Fuilin filled with flowing mead, dear-hoarded drink dark and potent a carven cup with curious brim, by ancient art of olden smiths fairly fashioned, filled with marvels; there gleamed and lived in grey silver the folk of Faerie in the first noontide of the Blissful Realms; with their brows wreathed 2000 2005 2010 2015 2020

in garlands golden with their gleaming hair in the wind flying and their wayward feet fitful flickering, on unfading lawns the ancient Elves there everlasting danced undying in the deep pasture of the gardens of the Gods; there Glingol shone and Bansil bloomed with beams shimmering, mothwhite moonlight from its misty flowers; the hilltops of Tun there high and green were crowned by Cor, climbing, winding, town white-walled where the tower of Ing with pale pinnacle pierced the twilight, and its crystal lamp illumined clear with slender shaft the Shadowy Seas. Through wrack and ruin, the wrath of the Gods, through weary wandering, waste and exile, had come that cup, carved in gladness, in woe hoarded, in waning hope when little was left of the lore of old. Now Fuilin at feast filled it seldom save in pledge of love to proven friend; blithely bade he of that beaker drink for the sake of his son that sate nigh him Turin Thalion in token sure of a league of love long enduring. '0 Hurin's child chief of Hithlum, with mourning marred, may the mead of the Elves thy heart uplift with hope lightened; nor fare thou from us the feast ended, here deign to dwell; if this deep mansion thus dark-dolven dimly vaulted displease thee not, a place awaits thee.' There deeply drank a draught of sweetness Turin Thalion and returned his thanks in eager earnest, while all the folk with loud laughter and long feasting, with mournful lay or music wild of magic minstrels that mighty songs did weave with wonder, there wooed their hearts from black foreboding; there bed's repose their guest was granted, when in gloom silent the light and laughter and the living voices

61 2025 2030 2035 2040 2045 2050 2055 2060 were quenched in slumber. Now cold and slim the sickle of the Moon was silver tilted o'er the wan waters that washed unsleeping, nightshadowed Narog, the Gnome-river. In tall treetops of the tangled wood there hooted hollow the hunting owls. Thus fate it fashioned that in Fuilin's house the dark destiny now dwelt awhile of Turin the tall. There he toiled and fought with the folk of Fuilin for Flinding's love; lore long forgotten learned among them, for light yet lingered in those leaguered places, and wisdom yet lived in that wild people, whose minds yet remembered the Mountains of the West and the faces of the Gods, yet filled with glory more clear and keen than kindreds of the dark or Men unwitting of the mirth of old. Thus Fuilin and Flinding friendship showed him, and their halls were his home, while high summer waned to autumn and the western gales the leaves loosened from the labouring boughs; the feet of the forest in fading gold and burnished brown were buried deeply; a restless rustle down the roofless aisles sighed and whispered. Lo! the Silver Wherry, the sailing Moon with slender mast, was filled with fires as of furnace golden whose hold had hoarded the heats of summer, whose shrouds were shaped of shining flame uprising ruddy o'er the rim of Evening by the misty wharves on the margin of the world. Thus the months fleeted and mightily he fared in the forest with Flinding, and his fate waited slumbering a season, while he sought for joy the lore learning and the league sharing of the Gnomes renowned of Nargothrond. 2065 2070 2075 2080 2085 2090 2095 The ways of the woods and the land's secrets by winter unhindered whether snow or sleet he wandered far, he learned swiftly to weathers hardened, or slanting rain 2100

62 from glowering heavens grey and sunless cold and cruel was cast to earth, till the floods were loosed and the fallow waters of sweeping Narog, swollen, angry, were filled with flotsam and foaming turbid passed in tumult; or twinkling pale ice-hung evening was opened wide, a dome of crystal o'er the deep silence of the windless wastes and the woods standing like frozen phantoms under flickering stars. By day or night danger needless he dared and sought for, his dread vengeance ever seeking unsated on the sons of Angband; yet as winter waxed wild and pathless, and biting blizzards the bare faces lashed and tortured of the lonely tors and haggard hilltops, in the halls more often : was he found in fellowship with the folk of Narog, and cunning there added in the crafts of hand, and in subtle mastery of song and music and peerless poesy, to his proven lore and wise woodcraft; there wondrous tales were told to Turin in tongues of gold in those mansions deep, there many a day to the hearth and halls of the haughty king did those friends now fare to feast and game, for frail Finduilas her father urged to his board and favour to bid those twain, and it grudging her granted that grimhearted king deep-counselled -- cold his anger, his ruth unready, his wrath enduring; yet fierce and fell by the fires of hate his breast was burned for the broods of Hell (his son had they slain, the swift-footed Halmir the hunter of hart and boar), and kinship therein the king ere long in his heart discovered for Hurin's son, dark and silent, as in dreams walking of anguish and regret and evergrowing feud unsated. Thus favour soon by the king accorded of the company of his board he was member made, and in many a deed 2105 2110 2115 2120 2125 2130 2135 2140 2145

and wild venture to West and North he achieved renown among the chosen warriors and fearless bowmen; in far battles in secret ambush and sudden onslaught, where fell-tongued flew the flying serpents, their shafts envenomed, in valleys shrouded he played his part, but it pleased him little, who trusted to targe and tempered sword, whose hand was hungry for the hilts it missed

63 2150 2155 but dared never a blade since the doom of Beleg to draw or handle. Dear-holden was he, though he wished nor willed it, and his works were praised. When tales were told of times gone by, of valour they had known, of vanished triumph, glory half-forgot, grief remembered, then they bade and begged him be blithe and sing of deeds in Doriath in the dark forest by the shadowy shores that shunned the light where Esgalduin the Elf-river by root-fenced pools roofed with silence, by deep eddies darkly gurgling, Rowed fleetly on past the frowning portals of the Thousand Caves. Thus his thought recalled the woodland ways where once of yore Beleg the bowman had a boy guided by slade and slope and swampy thicket neath trees enchanted; then his tongue faltered and his tale was stilled. 2160 2165 2170 At Turin's sorrow one marvelled and was moved, a maiden fair the frail Finduilas that Failivrin, the glimmering sheen on the glassy pools of Ivrin's lake the Elves in love had named anew. By night she pondered and by day wondered what depth of woe lay locked in his heart his life marring; for the doom of dread and death that had fallen on Beleg the bowman in unbroken silence Turin warded, nor might tale be won of Flinding the faithful of their fare and deeds in the waste together. Now waned her love 2175 2180 2185 for the form and face furrowed with anguish, for the bended back and broken strength, the wistful eyes and the withered laughter of Flinding the faithful, though filled was her heart with deepwelling pity and dear friendship. Grown old betimes and grey-frosted, he was wise and kindly with wit and counsel, with sight and foresight, but slow to wrath nor fiercely valiant, yet if fight he must his share he shirked not, though the shreds of fear in his heart yet hung; he hated no man, but he seldom smiled, save suddenly a light in his grave face glimmered and his glance was fired: Finduilas maybe faring lightly on the sward he saw or swinging pale, a sheen of silver down some shadowy hall.* Yet to Turin was turned her troublous heart against will and wisdom and waking thought: in dreams she sought him, his dark sorrow with love lightening, so that laughter shone in eyes new-kindled, and her Elfin name

64 he eager spake, as in endless spring they fared free-hearted through flowers enchanted with hand in hand o'er the happy pastures of that land that is lit by no light of Earth, by no moon nor sun, down mazy ways to the black abysmal brink of waking. 2190 2195 2200 2205 2210 From woe unhealed the wounded heart of Turin the tall was turned to her. Amazed and moved, his mind's secret half-guessed, half-guarded, in gloomy hour of night's watches, when down narrow winding paths of pondering he paced wearily, he would lonely unlock, then loyal-hearted shut fast and shun, or shroud his grief in dreamless sleep, deep oblivion where no echo entered of the endless war of waking worlds, woe nor friendship, Bower nor firelight nor the foam of seas, 2215 2220 Here the B-typescript ends, and the remainder of the text is manuscript. See the Note on the Texts, p. 81.) a land illumined by no light at all. 2225 '0! hands unholy, 0! heart of sorrow, 0! outlaw whose evil is yet unatoned, wilt thou, troth-breaker, a treason new to thy burden bind; thy brother-in-arms, Flinding go-Fuilin thus foully betray, who thy madness tended in mortal perils, to thy waters of healing thy wandering feet did lead at the last to lands of peace, where his life is rooted and his love dwelleth? O! stained hands his hope steal not! ' 2230 2235 Thus love was fettered in loyal fastness and coldly clad in courteous word; yet he would look and long for her loveliness, in her gentle words his joy finding, her face watching when he feared no eye might mark his mood. One marked it all -Failivrin's face, the fleeting gleams, like sun through clouds sailing hurriedly over faded fields, that flickered and went out as Turin passed; the tremulous smiles, his grave glances out of guarded shade, his sighs in secret -- one saw them all, Flinding go-Fuilin, who had found his home and lost his love to the lying years, he watched and wondered, no word speaking, and his heart grew dark 'twixt hate and pity, bewildered, weary, in the webs of fate. Then Finduilas, more frail and wan twixt olden love now overthrown and new refused, did nightly weep;

65 and folk wondered at the fair pallor of the hands upon her harp, her hair of gold on slender shoulders slipped in tumult, the glory of her eyes that gleamed with fires of secret thought in silent deeps. 2240 2245 2250 2255 2260 Many bosoms burdened with foreboding vague their glooms disowned neath glad laughter. In song and silence, snow and tempest, winter wore away; to the world there came

a year once more in youth unstained, r were leaves less green, light less golden, the flowers less fair, though in faded hearts no spring was born, though speeding nigh danger and dread and doom's footsteps to their halls hasted. Of the host of iron came tale and tidings ever treading nearer; Orcs unnumbered to the East of Narog roamed and ravened on the realm's borders, the might of Morgoth was moved abroad. No ambush stayed them; the archers yielded each vale by vale, though venomed arrows 2265no 2270 2275 ere both A and B end abruptly, and I think it is certain that no more of the poem was ever written. NOTES. 1409. 1417-18. 448. 469. 1525. 1529. 1537. 1542-3. 1558. 1673-6. Tengwethil B, Taingwethil A. This is the reverse of the previous occurrences; see lines 43 I, 636. These lines are bracketed in B, and line 1418 struck through; in the margin is a mark of deletion, but with a query beside it.1 Nirnaith Unoth A, and B as typed; emended in pencil in B to Nirnaith Ornoth. Earlier in the poem (lines 13, 218) the forms were Ninin Udathriol emended in B to Ninin Unothradin (also Nimaithos Unothradin at line 13). Cf. line 1543.1 Ulmo A, and B as typed; in B Ulmo struck through in pencil and replaced by Ylmir, but this also struck through. I read Ylmir; see note to line 1529. Turin Thalion A, and B as typed (not Turin Thaliodrin, see note to line 1324). Ylmir: so already in A and B as typed; so also at lines 1534, 1553, 1572, 1585. See note to.line 1469. This line was struck through in pencil in B.

66 These lines were bracketed in pencil in B, and Not so written in margin. Though Unoth was not here emended I read Ornoth (see note to line 1448). the sea-birds call in solemn conclave: cf. the tale of The Coming of the Elves and the Making of Kor, I. 124. Cf. lines 1036 -- 9.

1696 -- 7. 1710 -- 11. Cf. lines 1283 -- 4. Line 1710 is wholly and 1711 partly crossed out in B, wit marginal additions to make 1711 read: [by) Felagund founded flying southward 1713 -- 20 Also written in the margin is, before Nirnaith Unoth . At line 1711 A has found for founded, but as the manuscript was written very rapidly this may not be significant. These lines are bracketed in B, as if needing revision, and two lines are written in the margin for insertion after 1715: that home came never to their halls of old since the field of tears was fought and lost. I have not included these lines (written, it seems, at the same time as the other marginal comments in this passage) in the text in view of the complexity of the 'historical background' at this point; see the Commentary, pp. 84 -- 5. Against this passage is written in the margin: but Nargothrond was founded by Felagund Finrod's son (whose brothers were Angrod Egnor & Orodreth). Curufin and Celegorm dwelt at Nargothrond. 1719. 1724 Cranthor A, Cranthir B as typed. Finduilas: Failivrin A, and B as typed; Finduilas written in pencil in the margin of B; so also at line 1938. See lines 2130, 2175, 2199. 1938. 1945. 1974-5. 1975. ,993-8 Finduilas: as at line 1724. The word youngling is struck out in B and Flinding written against it, but the resulting Fuilin's Flinding (with alliteration in the second half-line) cannot possibly have been intended. Subsequently another word was written in the margin, but this is illegible. Not so written in the margin of B. Finmeg A, and B as typed; late emendation to Fingon in B. I retain Firnweg since that is still the name in the 1930 'Silmarillion'. In A and in B as typed these lines were differently ordered: Of the four kindreds that followed the king, most noble of name, renowned in valour, the watchtowers' lords, the wold's keepers from Fuilin's children were first chosen, and the guards of the bridge, the gleaming bow that was flung o'er the foaming froth of Ingwil. 2027 Glingol A, and B as typed; late emendation to Glingal in B. I retain Glingol, the form in the Lost Tales and still in the 1930

67 'Silmarillion', in the published work Glingal is the name of the golden tree of Gondolin. 2028. Bansil A, and B as typed; late emendation to Belthil in B. I retain Bansil for the same reason as Glingol in line 2027. 2030. there high and green the hill of Tun A, and B as typed; emended in pencil in B to the reading given; was 2031 not corrected to mere, but that hilltops (plural) was intended is shown by the text C, see p. 82. 2130. I give Finduilas, though Failivrin was not so emended here in B, as it was at lines 1724, 1938. See notes to lines 2175. 2199. 2164. Esgaduin A, and B as typed; emended in pencil to Esgalduin in B. 2175. the frail Finduilas that Failivrin as typed B; the frail Failivrin changed at the time of writing in A to Findoriel (sc. the frail Findoriel that Failivrin &c.). 2199. Finduilas A and B; Failivrin written in the margin of A. At the subsequent occurrences (Failivrin 2242, Finduilas 2253) the names both in A and in B are as in the printed text. Note on the texts of the section 'Failivrin '. B comes to an end as a typescript at line 2201, but continues as a well-written manuscript for a further 75 lines. This last part is written onthe paper of good quality that my father used for many years in all his writing (University lectures, The Silmarillion, The Lord of the Rings, etc.) in ink or pencil (i.e. when not typing): this plain paper was supplied to him by the Examination Schools at Oxford University, being the used pages of the booklets of paper provided for examination candidates. The change in paper does not show however that he had moved from Leeds to Oxford (cf. p. 3), since he acted as an external examiner at Oxford in 1924 and 1925; but it does suggest that the final work on the Lay (before Leithian was begun) dates from the latter part of the one year or the earlier part of the next. The conclusion of A is also written on paper. There is a further short text to be considered here, a well-written manuscript that extends from line 2005 to line 2225, which I will call 'C'. Textual details show clearly that C followed B -- not, I think, at any longin terval. Some emendations made to B were made to C also. I give here alist of the more important differences of C from B (small changes of punctuation and sentence-connection are not noticed). C bears the title Turin in the House of Fuilin and his son Flinding. It is not clear whether this was to be the title of a fourth section of the poem, but it seems unlikely, if the third section was to remain Failivrin . 2005 Now was care lessened in kindly love C 2020 noontide] summer pencil emendation in C 2027-8. 2029. 2030-- 2. Clingol > Clingal and Bansil > Belthil pencil emendations in C as in B The original reading of B and C was like magic moonlight from its mothwhite flowers; this was differently emended in C, to like moths of pearl in moonlit flowers. C as written was exactly as the text of B after emendation (with were for was 2031); these lines were then crossed out and the following substituted: there high and green that hill by the sea was crowned by Tun, climbing, winding in tall walls of white, where the tower of Ing 2036-53. 2069.

68 2083. 2090. 2114 -- 16. 2123 -8. are omitted in C (with Thence for There 2054). After hunting owls C has lines of omission dots, and the text takes up again at line 2081. maned to autumn] waned lowards winter pencil emendations in C as of furnace golden] as a furnace of gold C are omitted in C. C omits 2124, 2125b -- 7, and reads: and in subtle mastery of song and music to his wise woodcraft and wielding of arms. To the hearth and halls of the haughty king 2135-8. C omits these lines (referring to Orodreth's son Halmir, slain by Orcs) and reads: his ruth unready, his wrath enduring. But kinship of mood the king ere long 2142b -- 2143a. C omits these lines, and reads: of anguish and regret. Thus was honour granted by the king to Turin; of the company of his board 2158. were told] men told emendation in C. 2164. Esgalduin C as written; see note to this line above. Commentary on Part III 'Failivrin'. In this very remarkable section of the poem a great development has taken place in the story since the Tale of Turambar (if there was an intervening stage there is now no trace of it); while concurrently the history of the exiled Noldoli was being deepened and extended from its representation in the outlines for Gilfanon's Tale --. a factor that complicates the presentation of the poems, since statements about that history were often superseded during the long process of composition. Most notable of all in this part of the poem is the description of Nargothrond, unique in the Lay. In all the later rewritings and restructurings of the Turin saga this part was never touched, apart from the development of the relations between Turin, Gwindor, and Finduilas which I have given in Unfinished Tales, pp. 155 -- 9. In this there is a parallel to Gondolin, very fully described in the tale of The Fall of Gondolin, but never again. As I said in the introduction to Unfinished Tales (p. 5): It is thus the remarkable fact that the only full account that my father ever wrote of the story of Tuor's sojourn in Gondolin, his union with Idril Celebrindal, the birth of Earendil, the treachery of Maeglin, the sack of the city, and the escape of the fugitives -- a story that was a central element in his imagination of the First Age -- was the narrative composed in his youth. Gondolin and Nargothrond were each made once, and not remade. They remained powerful sources and images -- the more powerful, perhaps, because never remade, and never remade, perhaps, because so powerful. Both Tuor and Turin were indeed to receive written form outside the condensed Silmarillion as long prose narratives, and what my father achieved of this intention I have given in the first two sections of Unfinished Tales; but though he set out to remake Gondolin he never reached the city again: after climbing the endless slope of the Orfalch Echor and passing through the long line of heraldic gates he paused with Tuor at the vision of Gondolin amid the plain, and never recrossed Tumladen. The remaking of Turin went much further, but here too he skirted the imaginative focus of Nargothrond. The founding of Nargothrond. I shall discuss first the 'background' history, which centres on the

69 complex question of the founding of Nargothrond. In the Tale (I I. 81 -- 2) Nargothrond is not named, and is represented by the Caves of the Rodothlim; as in the poem, Orodreth was the chief of these Gnomes, but he was then an isolated figure, and not yet associated in kinship with other princes. Nothing is said there of the origin of the redoubt, but that it was imagined to have arisen (like Gondolin) after the Battle of Unnumbered Tears is, I think, certain, since in the earliest phase of the legends, as I remarked in commenting on Cilfanon's Tale (I. 242), the entire later history of the long years of the Siege of Angband, ending with the Battle of Sudden Flame (Dagor Bragollach), of the passage of Men over the Mountains into Beleriand and their taking service with the Noldorin Kings, had yet to emerge; indeed these outlines give the effect of only a brief time elapsing between the coming of the Noldoli from Kor and their great defeat [in the Battle of: Unnumbered Tears]. In the poem, this idea is still clearly present in lines 1542-- 4: the secret halls of Nargothrond by the Gnomes builded that death and thraldom in the dreadful throes of Nirnaith Ornoth, a number scanty, escaped unscathed. Against this passage my father wrote ' Not so', and this comment obviously means 'Nargothrond was not founded after the Battle of Unnumbered Tears', as is further shown by his note to lines 1710 -- 11: (to Nargothrond) that Celegorm and Curufin, the crafty sons of Feanor founded when they fled southward against which he wrote: 'before Nirnaith Unoth'. When, then, was it founded? The 'Sketch of the Mythology', certainly later than the poem (the background of which it was written to explain), already in its earliest form knows of the Leaguer of Angband and of Morgoth's breaking of the: Leaguer -- though described in the barest possible way, without any reference to the battle that ended it; and it is said there that at that time 'Gnomes and Ilkorins and Men are scattered... Celegorm and Curufin found the realm of Nargothrond on the banks of Narog in the south of the Northern lands.' The 'Sketch' (again, in its earliest, unrevised, form) also states that Celegorm and Curufin despatched a host from Nargothrond to the Battle of Unnumbered Tears, that this host joined with that of Maidros and Maglor, but 'arrived too late for the main battle'. 'They are beaten back and driven into the South-east, where they long time dwelt, and did not go back to Nargothrond. There Orodreth ruled the remnant.' The problem is to explain how it comes about in the earlier story, as found in the poem (Nargothrond founded by Celegorm and Curufin after the Battle of Unnumbered Tears), that Celegorm and Curufin are no longer there when Turin comes, and Orodreth is king. Why do they live now lurking... in the forests of the East with their five brothers (1713-14)? The only explanation that I can put forward is as follows. When my father wrote lines 1542--4 his view was that Nargothrond was founded after the Battle of Unnumbered Tears (this is quite explicit). But when he wrote lines 1710 -- 15 (to Nargothrond) that Celegorm and Curufin, the crafty sons of Feanor founded when they fled southward; there built a bulwark against Bauglir's hate, 1710

who live now lurking in league secret

70 with those five others in the forests of the East fell unflinching foes of Morgoth1715 the later story was already present. (There would be nothing uncharacteristic about this; in the Lay of Leithian the story changes from one Canto to the next.) Thus when they fled southward refers to the flight of Celegorm and Curufin from the battle that ended the Leaguer of Angband; they live now lurking... in the forests of the East refers to the period after the Battle of Unnumbered Tears, when 'they did not go back to Nargothrond' and 'Orodreth ruled the remnant', as stated in the 'Sketch'.* On this view, my father's note against lines 1710 -- 11('before Nirnaith Unoth') was mistaken -- he took the lines to refer to the old story (as 1542 -- 4 certainly do), whereas in fact they refer to the later. This explanation may seem far-fetched, but it is less so than the demonstrably correct solutions to other puzzles in the history of 'The Silmarillion', and I see no other way out of the difficulty. -- The two additional lines to follow 1715: that home came never to their halls of old since the field of tears was fought and lost refer (I think) to Celegorm and Curufin, and reinforce the reference to the later story (i.e. that after the Battle of Unnumbered Tears they did not return to Nargothrond). The change of lines 1710 -- 11 to make the passage read (to Nargothrond) by Felagund founded flying southward and the marginal note against 1713 -- 20 'but Nargothrond was founded by Felagund Finrod's son' etc., reflect of course a further stage, though a stage that came in soon after the 'Sketch' was first written. The essential shifts in the history of Nargothrond to this point are certainly thus: (1) Orodreth ruled the Rodothlim in their caves, first inhabited after the Battle of Unnumbered Tears. (2) Celegorm and Curufin founded Nargothrond after the Battle of Unnumbered Tears. Celegorm and Curufin founded Nargothrond after the breaking of the Leaguer of Angband; they went with a host to the Battle of Unnumbered Tears and did not return, but remained in the East; Orodreth ruled the remnant of the Gnomes of Nargothrond. Felagund son of Finrod and his brothers Angrod, Egnor, and (* Cf. lines 1873 -- 4: Has the watch then waned in the woods of Narog since Orodreth ruled this realm and folk? ) Orodreth founded Nargothrond after the breaking of the Leaguer of Angband; Celegorm and Curufin dwelt there. Another sign of development in the history and genealogy of the Gnomish princes is the mention of Finweg, later emended in the B-text to Fingon, who fell in flame of swords at the Battle of Unnumbered Tears (1975). Finweg has appeared early in the poem (line 29), but there as a spelling or form of Finwe (Noleme), founder of the line; this Finweg appears in the 'Sketch', as originally written, as the son of Fingolfin. The Sons of Feanor have previously all been named only in the Tale of the Nauglafring (II. 241); now (1716 ff.), with Cranthir (emended from Cranthor in B), and Diriel for earlier Dinithel (?Durithel), they reach the forms they long retained. Characteristic epithets appear: Maglor is 'swift', Cranthir 'dark', and Curufin's 'craftiness', already appearing in the Tale of the Nauglafring, extends here to Celegorm. Maidros' wielding his sword with his left hand is mentioned, which clearly implies that the story that Morgorth had him hung from a cliff by his right hand, and that Finweg (> Fingon) rescued him, was already present, as it is in the 'Sketch'. His torment and maiming was mentioned in the outlines for Gilfanon's Tale (I. 238, 240), but not described. To turn now to the foreground narrative of this part of the poem. The

71 poem advances on the Tale by mentioning the disposal of Beleg's sword, not mentioned in the Tale; but here Flinding hides it in the hollow of a tree (1342), and it plays no further part in the story. If the poem had gone further Turin would have received his black sword in Nargothrond in gift from Orodreth, as happens in the Tale (II. 83). In the Tale it is said that Turin 'had not wielded a sword since the slaying of Beleg, but rather had he been contented with a mighty club', in the poem this reappears with the implication made explicit (2155 -- 6): dared never a blade since the doom of Beleg to draw or handle. The burial of Beleg now appears, with his great bow beside him (1399 ff.), and Turin's kiss survives from the Tale; that the mark of his grief over the death of Beleg (called the third of his sorrows, 1421) never left his face was an enduring feature of the legend. Geography. In the Tale (II. 80 -- 1) very little is made of the journey of Flinding and Turin from the place of Beleg's death to Nargothrond: by the light of Flinding's lamp they 'fared by night and hid by day and were lost in the hills, and the Orcs found them not'. In the poem, on the other hand, the journey is quite fully described, and contains some noteworthy features; moreover there is nothing in the description that contradicts the earliest 'Silmarillion' map (to be given in the next volume), which dates from this period and may have been made originally in association with this poem. The wanderers pass at midnight by the Mound of Slain, looming up under the moon at the furthest end/of Dor-na-Fauglith's dusty spaces (1439 -- 40); this feature does not recur again in the story of Turin. The only previous reference to the great burial-mound is in the outlines for Cilfanon's Tale, where it is called the Hill of Death, and was raised by the Sons of Feanor (I. 241). It is said in the poem that Turin despite his heavy listlessness turned his hand/ toward Thangorodrim at Flinding's words concerning the Mound, and cursed Morgoth thrice -- as did Feanor in the hour of his death after the Battle-under-Stars (The Silmarillion p. 107); the one was doubtless the precursor of the other. The inviolability of the Mound now appears (1450 -- 2). Turin and Flinding now crossed Sirion not far from his source in the Shadowy Mountains, where the river was fordable (1457 ff.); this is the first reference to Sirion's Well. Sirion's great journey to the Sea is described, with references to his passage underground (1467; cf. II. 195, 217) and through lands beloved of Ylmir (Ulmo). The travellers then find themselves in Nan Dungorthin, which was mentioned in the Tale of Tinuviel (see II. 35, 62 -- 3): Huan found Beren and Tinuviel after their escape from Angband in 'that northward region of Artanor that was called afterward Nan Dumgorthin, the land of the dark idols', 'even then a dark land and gloomy and foreboding, and dread wandered beneath its lowering trees'. My father hesitated long about the placing of this land: in the Gnomish dictionary it was east of Artanor (II. 62), in the Tale of Tinuviel a 'northward region of Artanor', while here it is west of Sirion, in a valley of the southern slopes of the Shadowy Mountains. In the earliest 'Silmarillion' map Nan Dungorthin was first likewise placed west of Sirion (west of the Isle of Werewolves), before being returned once more to the region north of Doriath, where it remained. It is said that when Turin and Flinding climbed out of the vale of Nan Dungorthin they southward sam the slopes of Hithlum/more warm and friendly (1496 -- 7). At first sight this seems difficult to understand, but I think that the meaning is: they were indeed on the slopes of Hithlum at the time (i.e. below the southern faces of the Shadowy Mountains that fenced Hithlum), but looking southward (actually southwestward) they saw more agreeable regions further along the foothills, towards Ivrin. This is the first appearance of Ivrin, source of the Narog, and it is seen very clearly. The line (1537) giving the meaning of Narog (Gnomish, 'torrent') was struck out, but this (I think)

72 was because my father felt that it was intrusive, not that the etymology was rejected. In this connection it may be mentioned that in a list of Old English equivalents of Elvish names, composed some years after the time of the present poem and associated with AElfwine's translations of Elvish texts into his own language, occur Narog: Hlyda and Nargothrond: Hlydingaburg. Hlyda was the name in Old English of March ('the noisy month of wind', cf. the Quenya name Sulime' and the Sindarin name . Greaeron); related words are hlud (Modern English loud), hlyd 'sound', hlydan 'make a sound'. The meaning is here undoubtedly 'the loud one'; it lies behind the English stream-name Lydbrook. Following the course of the Narog southward from Ivrin, the travellers gained the gorge where Ginglith turns all glad and golden to greet the Narog. There her gentler torrent joins his tumult, and they glide together on the guarded plain to the Hunters' Hills that high to southward uprear their rocks robed in verdure.(1736 -- 41) A little earlier Flinding has described to Turin how Narog, passing Nargothrond, 'thence skirted wild the Hills of the Hunters, the home of Beren and the Dancer of Doriath' (1544-- 6). In these verses are the first appearances of the river Ginglith, the Guarded Plain, and the Hills of the Hunters (all shown on the earliest map), though the hills themselves are described without being named in the Tale, II. 96. On the map Nargothrond is shown near the northern extremity of the Hills of the Hunters, which extend far to the southward, falling down to the coast of the Sea west of Sirion's mouths. Various things are said of these hills. In the Tale they are 'high and tree-grown', in the poem they uprear their rocks robed in verdure; in The Silmarillion (p. 122), where they are called Taur-en-Faroth or the High Faroth, they are 'great wooded highlands', in the Narn (p. 116) they are 'brown and bare'. In the poem they are also called the Hunters' Wold (1816), the Wold of Hunters (1992), where the word is probably used in the old sense of 'forest, wooded uplands'. If we judge by my father's unfinished watercolour of the Doors of Nargothrond, painted in all probability in 1928 (see Pictures by J. R. R. Tolkien no. 33), he saw the hills as great rocky heights standing up from thick forest on their lower slopes. At line 1746 the Wards of Narog look out from their treegirt towers on the tall hilltops; these watchtowers were in the north of the Hills of the Hunters and looking northwards (1743-5), and it may not be casual therefore that on the earliest map the northern end (only) of the hills are shown as heavily forested. As Turin and Flinding came south down the west bank of Narog the river hastened o'er the feet of the hills (1770), and the fields and orchards through which they passed ever narrowing twixt wall and water did wane at last to blossomy banks by the borders of the way (1812 -- 14) The map likewise shows the Narog drawing steadily closer to the northeastern edge of the Hills of the Hunters. Here the travellers crossed the foaming Ingwil, falling down from the hills, by a slender bridge; this

is the first appearance of this stream (cf. The Silmarillion p. 122: 'the short and foaming stream Ringwil tumbled headlong into Narog from the High Faroth'), and the bridge over it is mentioned nowhere else. The Land of the Dead that Live (Beren and Tinuviel after their return) is now placed in the Hills of the Hunters (1545 -- 6), where it was originally placed also on the map. This land was moved even more often than was Nan Dungorthin. In the Tale of the Nauglafring it was in Hisilome (but with a note on the manuscript saying that it must be placed

73 in 'Doriath beyond Sirion', II. 249); in the Tale of Tinuviel Beren and Tinuviel 'became mighty fairies in the lands about the north of Sirion' (II. 41). From the Hills of the Hunters it would subsequently be movedse veral times more. Before leaving the Narog, we meet here for the first time in narrative writing the name Nan-Tathrin (1548), in the Lost Tales always called by its name in Eldarissa, Tasarinan (but Nantathrin occurs in the Gnomish dictionary, I. 265, entry Sirion and Dor-tathrin in the Namelist to The Fall of Gondolin, II. 346). Far fuller than in any later account is the story in the poem of the sojourn of Turin and his companion at Ivrin, and much that lies behind the passage in The Silmarillion (p. 209) is here revealed. In The Silmarillion Turin drank from the water of Ivrin and was at last able to weep, and his madness passed; then he made a song for Beleg (Laer Cu Beleg, the Song of the Great Bow), 'singing it aloud heedless of peril'; and then he asked Gwindor who he was. In the Lay all these features of the story are present, somewhat differently ordered. Flinding describes to Turin the courses of Narog and Sirion and the protection of Ulmo, and Turin feels some return of hope (1586 -- 7); they hasten down to the lake and drink (1599 -- 1600); and from the meshes of misery his mind was loosed (1602). In the early night, as they sat beside their fire by the pools of Ivrin, Turin asked Flinding his name and fate, and it was Flinding's reply that led Turin at last to weep. Flinding fell asleep, but woke towards the end of the night to hear Turin singing the dirge of Beleg by the edge of the lake (and here the song is called 'the Bowman's Friendship'). Turin then himself fell asleep, and in his sleep he returned tothe terrible place on the edge of Taur-na-Fuin where he slew Beleg, seeking the place of his burial and the lightning-blackened trees, and heard the voice of Beleg far off telling him to seek no longer but to take comfort in courage. Then he woke in wonder; his wit was healed, courage him comforted, and he called aloud Flinding go-Fuilin, to his feet striding. (1699 -- 1701) The structure of the episode in the Lay is firm and clear, the images strong and enduring. I said in the introduction to Unfinished Tales that it was grievous that my father went no further, in the later Tale of Tuor, than the coming of Tuor and Voronwe to the last gate and Tuor's sightof Gondolin across the plain. It is no less grievous that he never retold, in his later prose, the story of Turin and Gwindor at the Lake of Ivrin. The passage in The Silmarillion is no substitute; and it is only from this poem that we can fully grasp the extremity of the disaster for Turin, that he had killed his friend. The description in the poem of the stealth and secrecy of the defenders of Nargothrond is derived, in concept, from the Tale (II. 81). In the Tale the spies and watchers of the Rodothlim... gave warning of their approach, and the folk withdrew before them, such as were abroad from their dwelling. Then they closed their doors and hoped that the strangers might not discover their caves... When Flinding and Turin came to the mouths of the caves, the Rodothlim sallied and made them prisoners and drew them within their rocky halls, and they were led before the chief, Orodreth. All this is taken up into the poem and greatly elaborated; there is also the incident of Turin's stumbling on a root and thus being missed by the arrow aimed at him, and Flinding's cry of reproach to the unseen archers, after which they were not further molested. It is perhaps not so clear in the poem as in the Tale that the farmlands and orchards of Nargothrond were deserted lest the travellers should find the entrance to the caves, especially since a pathway plain by passing feet/was broadly beaten (1808 -- 9) -- though it is said that the throng in the great hallof Nargothrond was waiting for them (1856). Moreover, in the Tale they were not attacked. As the story is told in the poem, one might wonder

74 why the hidden archers in the woods, if they believed Flinding's cry sufficiently to withhold their arrows, did not emerge at that point and conduct them as prisoners to the caves. The new element of the arrow shot in the woods has not, I think, been altogether assimilated to the old account of the timorous withdrawal of the Rodothlim in the hope that Turin and Flinding would not find the entrance. But the passage describing the 'home-fields' of Nargothrond is of great interest in itself, for rarely are there references to the agriculture of the peoples of Middlleearth in the Elder Days. The great Doors of Nargothrond are here first described -- the triple doors of timber as my father imagined them are seen in his drawing of the entrance made in Dorset in the summer of 1928, and (in a different conception) their posts and lintels of ponderous stone (1830)in the watercolour of the same period referred to above (Pictures nos 33 34). In the Tale the fear and suspicion among the Rodothlim of Noldoli who had been slaves is attributed to 'the evil deeds of the Gnomes atC opas Alqalunten', and this element reappears in the poem (1903 -- 4). Nevertheless, there is no suggestion in the Tale of any serious questioning of the identity and goodwill of Flinding, greatly changed in aspect though he was, so that 'few knew him again'. In the poem, on the other hand, Orodreth emerges as hostile and formidable, and his character is carefully outlined: he is quick to anger (1973) but his wrath is cold and long-enduring (2133 -- 4), he is seldom moved to pity (1969, 2134), grim-hearted and deep-counselled (2132 -- 3), but capable of deep love (1970) as also of fierce hate (2135). Afterwards, as the legends developed, Orodreth underwent a steady decline into weakness and insignificance, which is very curious. Many years later, when meditating the development of the Turin saga, my father noted that Orodreth was 'rather a weak character'; cf. the Narn, p. 160: 'he turned as he ever did to Turin for counsel'. Ultimately he was to be displaced as the second King of Nargothrond (Unfinished Tales p. 255, note 20). But all this is a far cry from the hard and grim king in his underground hall depicted in the poem; Felagund had not yet emerged, nor the rebellious power of Celegorm and Curufin in Nargothrond (see further p. 246). The killing of Orodreth's son Halmir the hunter by Orcs (2137 -- 8; omitted in the C-text, p. 82) is a new element, which will reappear, though not found in The Silmarillion, where the name Halmir is borne by a ruler of the People of Haleth. In the Tale, as I noticed in my commentary (II. 124), Failivrin is already present, and her unrequited love for Turin, but the complication of her former relation with Gwindor is quite absent, and she is not the daughter of Orodreth the King but of one Galweg (who was to disappear utterly). In the poem Galweg has already disappeared, and Failivrin has become Orodreth's daughter, loved by Flinding and returning his love before his captivity; and it is her plea to her father before the assembled multitude that sways the king and leads to the admission of Flinding and Turin to Nargothrond. Of this intervention there is probably a trace in the very condensed account in The Silmarillion (p. 209): At first his own people did not know Gwindor, who went out young and strong, and returned now seeming as one of the aged among mortal Men, because of his torments and his labours; but Finduilas daughter of Orodreth the King knew him and welcomed him, for she had loved him before the Nirnaeth, and so greatly did Gwindor love her beauty that he named her Faelivrin, which is the gleam of the sun on the pools of Ivrin. In the poem she is called Failivrin in A and B as written, emended or not in B to Finduilas (1724, 1938, 2130), but the name Finduilas emerges towards the end in the texts as first written (2175, 2199), and Failivrin (the glimmering sheen on the glassy pools/of Ivrin's

75 lake) is the name by which the Elves renamed Finduilas. In the Lay as in the Tale there is no hiding of Turin's identity, as there is in The Silmarillion, where he checked Gwindor, when Gwindor would declare his name, saying that he was Agarwaen, the Bloodstained, son of Umarth, Ill-fate (p. 210). Finduilas (Failivrin) asks: But are none yet nigh us that knew of yore that mighty of Men [Hurin], mark of kinship to seek and see in these sorrow-laden form and features? (1958 -- 61 ) and then No few were there found who had fought of old where Finweg fell in flame of swords and Hurin Thalion had hewn the throngs, the dark Glamhoth's demon legions (1974 -- 7) and they declared that Turin's face was the face of the father new found on earth. Against the second of these passages my father wrote in the margin: 'Not so.' This is a comment on the idea that there were many Gnomes in Nargothrond who had fought in the Battle of Unnumbered Tears (see pp. 84 -- 5); according to the later story scarcely any went from Nargothrond, and of the small company that did none came back, save Flinding/Gwindor himself. -- In The Silmarillion (p. 210) Turin is not said to be the image of his father; on the contrary, he was in truth the son of Morwen Eledhwen to look upon: dark-haired and pale-skinned, with grey eyes. Cf. also the Narn, p. 161, where Turin said to Arminas: But if my head be dark and not golden, of that I am not ashamed. For I am not the first of sons in the likeness of his mother. Hurin himself was shorter in stature than other men of his kin; in this he took after his mother's people, but in all else he was like Hador his grandfather, fair of face and golden-haired, strong in body and fiery of mood (Nant P 57)But Turin was already conceived to be dark-haired in the Lay: the black-haired boy from the beaten people (417) and in the second version of the poem Hurin also has dark tresses (p. 97, line 88). At the feast of welcome in the house of Fuilin Flinding's father, deep in the woods on the slopes of the Hunters' Wold (1989 -- 92), Fuilin filled with mead a great ancient silver cup that had come from Valinor:

carved in gladness, in woe hoarded, in waning hope when little was left of the lore of old. (2038 -- 40) It was of such things as that cup, carved with images of the folk of Faerie in the first noontide/of the Blissful Realms, of the Two Trees, and of the tower of Ing on the hill of Cor, that my father was thinking when he wrote of the treasures that Finrod Felagund brought put of Tirion (The Silmarillion p. 114); 'a solace and a burden on the road' (ibid. p. 85). -- This is the first reference to the tower of Ing (Ingwe, see p. 28) in the Elvish city, whose pale pinnacle pierced the twilight, and its crystal lamp illumined clear with slender shaft the Shadowy Seas (2033-5) as afterwards the silver lamp of.the Mindon Eldalieva 'shone far out into the mists of the sea' (The Silmarillion p. 59). According to the readings of the A and B texts at lines 2030 -- 2 the hill on which the Elvish city was built, figured on Fuilin's cup, is Tun,

76 þ crowned by the white-walled city of Cor; and this is anomalous, since the name Tun certainly arose as the name of the city (see II. 292), and in the 'Sketch of the Mythology' and the 1930 'Silmarillion' Kor is the hill and Tun the city. In the C-text of the poem, however, these lines were changed, and the city is named Tun (p. 82). The elaboration at the end of the relationship of Turin and Finduilas is an indication of the large scale on which this work was planned: seeing how much in bare narrative terms is yet to come (the fall of Nargothrond, the Dragon, the loss of Finduilas, Turin's journey to Dor-lomin, Morwen and Nienor in Doriath and the journey to Nargothrond, the enspelling of Nienor, Turin and Nienor among the Woodmen, the coming and death of the Dragon, and the deaths of Nienor and Turin) it must have run to many more thousands of lines. There remain a few isolated matters. The name, Esgalduin now first appears, but the form in A and B as typed (2164), Esgaduin, is the original name. The C-text has Esgalduin (p. 82). The Moon is seen in lines 2088 -- 94 as a ship, the Silver Wherry, with mast, hold, and shrouds, sailing from wharves on the margin of the world; but the imagery has no real point of contact with the Ship of the Moon in the Tale of the Sun and Moon (I. 192 -- 3). Ulmo is now called Ylmir (first appearing by emendation in B at line 1469, but thereafter in both A and B as first written); in the 'Sketch' he first appears as Ulmo (Ylmir), thereafter as Ylmir, suggesting that at this time Ylmir was the Gnomish form of his name (in the Gnomish dictionary it was Gulma, I. 270). He is also called the Dweller in the Deep at line 1565, as he is in the later Tuor (Unfinished Tales pp. 22, 28). Flinding mentions messages from Ulmo that are heard at Ivrin, and says that Ulmo alone remembers in the Lands of Mirth / the need of the Gnomes (153 I ff.); cf. the Tale, II. 77. Lastly may be noticed Turin's words of parting to Beleg at his burial (1408 -- 11), in which he foresees for him an afterlife in Valinor, in the halls of the Gods, and does not speak of a time of 'waiting'; cf. lines 1283 -- 4, 1696-7. THE SECOND VERSION OF THE CHILDREN OF HURIN. This version of the poem (II) is extant in a bundle of very rough manuscript notes (IIA), which do not constitute a complete text, and a typescript (IIB) -- the twia of the typescript (IB) of the first version, done with the same distinctive purple ribbon -- based on I I A. That II is a later work than I is obvious from a casual scrutiny -- to give a single example, the name Morwen appears thus both in IIA and I IB. As I have said (p. 4), I do not think that II is significantly later than I, and may indeed have been composed before my father ceased work on I.* Towards the end of II the amount of expansion and change from I becomes very much less, but it seems best to give II in full. 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

77 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) acknowledging 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, 5 10

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

78 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 15 20 25 30 35 40 45 50 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. 55 60 65 70 75 Said the dread Lord of Hell: 'Dauntless Hurin, stout steel-handed, stands before me yet quick a captive, as a coward might be!

79 Then knows he my name, or needs be told what hope he has in the halls of iron? The bale most bitter, Balrogs' torment! ' 80 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 85 90 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. 95 100 105 110 115 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. 120 125

80 Then the Lord of Hell lying-hearted to where Hurin hung hastened swiftly, 130 * 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 135 140 145 I SO 155 160 165 170 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

81 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.' 175 180 185 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.' 190: 195 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 205 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.' 215 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. Yet if little they like thee, thou must look thereon helpless to hinder or thy hand to raise, and thy lidless eyes lit with anguish shall not shut for ever, shorn of slumber like the Gods shall gaze there grim, tearless, on the might of Morgoth and the meed he deals

82 to fools who refuse fealty gracious.' 220 225 230 To Thangorodrim was the Thalion borne, that mountain that meets the misty skies on high over the hills that Hithlum sees blackly brooding on the borders of the North. There stretched on the stone of steepest peak in bonds unbreakable they bound him living; there the lord of woe in laughter stood, there cursed him for ever and his kindred all that should walk and wander in woe's shadow to a doom of death and dreadful end. There the mighty man unmoved sat, but unveiled was his vision that he viewed afar with eyes enchanted all earthly things, and the weird of woe woven darkly that fell on his folk -- a fiend's torment. 235 240 245 *

NOTES. 14. After this line IIB had the following: how the golden dragon of the God of darkness wrought wrack and ruin in realms now lost -only the mighty of soul, of Men or Elves, doom can conquer, and in death only. These lines were struck out in I IB, and do not appear in I IC, I ID. 19. Cf. I. 1975: where Finweg fell in flame of swords with Finweg > Fingon a later pencilled change in IB. All the texts of II have Finweg (IIA Fingmeg), but Fingon appears in a late pencilled emendation to I ID. 26. Nirnaith Unoth IIB, IIC; Nirnaith Ornoth IID, emended in pencil to Nirnaith Arnediad. For Unoth, Ornoth in the first version see p. 79, notes to lines 1448, 1542 -- 3. I read Ornoth here, since Arnediad is a form that arose much later. 27 All the texts of II have the chosen chieftains of the children of Men, but IID is emended in pencil to the seven chieftains of the sons of Men. 49. Fingolfin's son: see p. 21, note to line 29. Feanor's children I ID; and Feanor's children IIA, B, C. 76. 'Is it dauntless Hurin,' quoth Delu-Morgoth IIB, as in IB (line 51). 157. as a captain among them I IB as typed. Cf line 165. Commentary on Part I of the second version. This part has been expanded to two and a half times its former length, partly through the introduction of descriptions of Angband (42 -- 5, 105 -- 15) -- to be greatly enlarged some years later in the Lay of Leithian, and of Hurin's last stand (51 -- 61), but chiefly through the much extended account of Morgoth's dealings with Hurin, his attempted seduction of 'the Thalion', and his great rage (not found at all in the first version) at his failure to break his will. The rewritten scene is altogether fiercer, the sense of lying, brutality, and pain (and the heroic power of Hurin's resistance) much stronger. There are some interesting details in this opening section. Hurin's dark hair (88) has been referred to above (p. 92). The thane of Mor-

83 goth who smote him on the mouth (version I, 59) now becomes Lungorthin, Lord of Balrogs (96) -- which is probably to be interpreted as 'a

Balrog lord', since Gothmog, Lord or Captain of the Balrogs in The Fall of Condolin, soon reappears in the 'Silmarillion' tradition. Notable is the passage (88 -- 94) in which Hurin, thrusting back his long hair, looked into Morgoth's eye, and his mind in a mist of dark... groped and foundered: the originator of the power of the eye of Glorund his servant, which this poem did not reach. A line that occurs much later in the first version (1975) where Finweg [> Fingon] fell in flame of swords is introduced here (19), and there is mention also of his white banners... in blood beaten, and his blazing helm: this is ultimately the origin of the passage in?he Silmarillion (pp. 193-4): a white flame sprang up from the helm of Fingon as it was cloven... they beat him into the dust with their maces, and his banner, blue and silver, they trod into the mire of his blood. At line 26 is the first occurrence of Nirnaith Arnediad, but this is a hasty pencilled change to the last text (I ID) and belongs to a later phase of nomenclature. It is said that Turgon guided seven kindreds (67) out of the battle; in the tale of TheFall of Condolin there were twelve kindreds of the Gondothlim. Hurin is named the Prince of Mithrim (37), and his men the Men of Mithrim (59). This may suggest that the meaning of Mithrim, hitherto the name of the lake only, was being extended to the region in which the lake lay; on the earliest 'Silmarillion' map, however, this is not suggested. The land of Mithrim occurs at line 248, but the phrase was changed. The passage in the first version (46 -- 50) saying that Morgoth remembered well how Men were accounted all mightless and frail by the Elves and their kindred; how only treason could master the magic whose mazes wrapped the children of Corthun is changed in the second (118 -- 24) to 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 There has been no reference in the Lost Tales to any such ancient 'doom' or 'weird'. It is possible that the reference to 'treason' is to the 'Prophecy of the North', spoken by Mandos or his messenger as the host of the Noldor moved northward up the coast of Valinor after the Kinslaying (The Silmarillion pp. 87 -- 8); in the earliest version of this, in the tale of The Flight of the Noldoli (I. 167), there is no trace of the idea, but it is already explicit in the 1930 Silmarillion' that the Gnomes should pay for the deeds at Swanhaven in 'treachery and the fear of treachery among their,own kindred'. On the other hand, to the mighty doom, the weird of old is ascribed also the ultimate ruin of the Elves which is to come to pass through Men; and this is not found in any version of the Prophecy of the North. This passage in the revised version of the poem is echoed in the same scene in the 1930 Silmarillion'. Afterward Morgoth remembering that treachery or the fear of it, and especially the treachery of Men, alone would work the ruin of the Gnomes, came to Hurin... TURIN'S FOSTERING Lo! the lady Morwen in the land of shadow

84 waited in the woodland for her well-beloved, but he came never to clasp her nigh from that black battle. She abode in vain; no tidings told her whether taken or dead or lost in flight he lingered yet. Laid waste his lands and his lieges slain, and men unmindful of that mighty lord in Dorlomin dwelling dealt unkindly with his wife in widowhood; she went with child, and a son must succour sadly orphaned, Turin Thalion of tender years. In days of blackness was her daughter born, and named Nienor, a name of tears that in language of eld is Lamentation. Then her thoughts were turned to Thingol the Elf, and Luthien the lissom with limbs shining, his daughter dear, by Dairon loved, who Tinuviel was named both near and far, the Star-mantled, still remembered, who light as leaf on linden tree had danced in Doriath in days agone, on the lawns had lilted in the long moonshine, 250 255 260 265 270

while deftly was drawn Dairon's music with fingers fleet from flutes of silver. The boldest of the brave, Beren Ermabwed, to wife had won her, who once of old had vowed fellowship and friendly love with Hurin of Hithlum, hero dauntless by the marge of Mithrim's misty waters. Thus to her son she said: 'My sweetest child, our friends are few; thy father is gone. Thou must fare afar to the folk of the wood, where Thingol is throned in the Thousand Caves. If he remember Morwen and thy mighty sire he will foster thee fairly, and feats of arms, the trade he will teach thee of targe and sword, that no slave in Hithlum shall be son of Hurin. A! return my Turin when time passeth; remember thy mother when thy manhood cometh or when sorrows snare thee.' Then silence took her, for fears troubled her trembling voice. Heavy boded the heart of Hurin's son, who unwitting of her woe wondered vaguely, yet weened her words were wild with grief and denied her not; no need him seemed. 275 280 285 290 Lo! Mailrond and Halog, Morwen's henchmen, were young of yore ere the youth of Hurin, and alone of the lieges of that lord of Men now steadfast in service stayed beside her: now she bade them brave the black mountains

85 and the woods whose ways wander to evil; though Turin be tender, to travail unused, they must gird them and go. Glad they were not, but to doubt the wisdom dared not openly of Morwen who mourned when men saw not. 295 300 Came a day of summer when the dark silence of the towering trees trembled dimly to murmurs moving in the milder airs far and faintly; flecked with dancing sheen of silver and shadow-filtered sudden sunbeams were the secret glades where winds came wayward wavering softly warm through the woodland's woven branches. 305 310 Then Morwen stood, her mourning hidden, by the gate of her garth in a glade of Hithlum; at her breast bore she her babe unweaned, crooning lowly to its careless ears a song of sweet and sad cadence, lest she droop for anguish. Then the doors opened, and Halog hastened neath a heavy burden, and Mailrond the old to his mistress led her gallant Turin, grave and tearless, with heart heavy as stone hard and lifeless, uncomprehending his coming torment. There he cried with courage, comfort seeking: 'Lo! quickly will I come from the court's afar, I will long ere manhood lead to Morwen great tale of treasure and true comrades.' He wist not the weird woven of Morgoth, nor the sundering sorrow that them swept between, as farewells they took with faltering lips. The last kisses and lingering words are over and ended; and empty is the glen in the dark forest, where the dwelling faded in trees entangled, Then in Turin woke to woe's knowledge his bewildered heart, that he wept blindly awakening echoes sad resounding in sombre hollows, as he called: 'I cannot, I cannot leave thee. 0! Morwen my mother, why makest me go? The hills are hateful, where hope is lost; 0! Morwen my mother, I am meshed in tears, for grim are the hills and my home is gone.' And there came his cries calling faintly down the dark alleys of the dreary trees, that one there weeping weary on the threshold heard how the hills said 'my home is gone.' 315 320 325 330 335 340 345 *** The ways were weary and woven with deceit o'er the hills of Hithlum to the hidden kingdom

86 deep in the darkness of Doriath's forest, and never ere now for need or wonder had children of Men chosen that pathway, save Beren the brave who bounds knew not 350 to his wandering feet nor feared the woods or fells or forest or frozen mountain, and few had followed his feet after. There was told to Turin that tale by Halog that in the Lay of Leithian, Release from Bonds, in linked words has long been woven, of Beren Ermabwed, the boldhearted; how Luthien the lissom he loved of yore in the enchanted forest chained with wonder -Tinuviel he named her, than nightingale more sweet her voice, as veiled in soft and wavering wisps of woven dusk shot with starlight, with shining eyes she danced like dreams of drifting sheen, pale-twinkling pearls in pools of darkness; how for love of Luthien he left the woods on that quest perilous men quail to tell,

thrust by Thingol o'er the thirst and terror of the Lands of Mourning; of Luthien's tresses, and Melian's magic, and the marvellous deeds that after happened in Angband's halls, and the flight o'er fell and forest pathless when Carcharoth the cruel-fanged, the wolf-warden of the Woeful Gates, whose vitals fire devoured in torment them hunted howling (the hand of Beren he had bitten from the wrist where that brave one held the nameless wonder, the Gnome-crystal where light living was locked enchanted, all hue's essence. His heart was eaten, and the woods were filled with wild madness in his dreadful torment, and Doriath's trees did shudder darkly in the shrieking glens); how the hound of Hithlum, Huan wolf-bane, to the hunt hasted to the help of Thingol, and as dawn came dimly in Doriath's woods was the slayer slain, but silent lay there Beren bleeding nigh brought to death, till the lips of Luthien . in love's despair awoke him to words, ere he winged afar to the long awaiting; thence Luthien won him, the Elf-maiden, and the arts of Melian, 355 360 365 370 375 380 385 390 her mother Mablui of the moonlit hand, that they dwell for ever in days ageless and the grass greys not in the green forest where East or West they ever wander. Then a song he made them for sorrow's lightening,

87 a sudden sweetness in the silent wood, that is 'Light as Leaf on Linden' called, whose music of mirth and mourning blended yet in hearts does echo. This did Halog sing them:* 395 400 ' The grass was very long and thin, The leaves of many years lay thick, The old tree-roots wound out and in, And the early moon was glimmering. There went her white feet lilting quick, And Dairon's flute did bubble thin, As neath the hemlock umbels thick Tinuviel danced a-shimmering. 405 410 The pale moths lumbered noiselessly, And daylight died among the leaves, As Beren from the wild country Came thither wayworn sorrowing. He peered between the hemlock sheaves, And watched in wonder noiselessly Her dancing through the moonlit leaves And the ghostly moths a-following. 415 There magic took his weary feet, And he forgot his loneliness, And out he danced, unheeding, fleet, Where the moonbeams were a-glistening. Through the tangled woods of Elfinesse They fled on nimble fairy feet, And left him to his loneliness In the silent forest listening, 420 425 Still hearkening for the imagined sound Of lissom feet upon the leaves, For the textual history of this poem's insertion into the Lay sec the Note on pp.120-2.) For music welling underground In the dim-lit caves of Doriath. But withered are the hemlock sheaves, And one by one with mournful sound Whispering fall the beechen leaves In the dying woods of Doriath. 430 He sought her wandering near and far Where the leaves of one more year were strewn, By winter moon and frosty star With shaken light a-shivering. He found her neath a misty moon, A silver wraith that danced afar, And the mists beneath her feet were strewn In moonlight palely quivering. 435 440 She danced upon a hillock green Whose grass unfading kissed her feet, While Dairon's fingers played unseen O'er his magic flute a-flickering; And out he danced, unheeding, fleet, In the moonlight to the hillock green:

88 No impress found he of her feet That fled him swiftly flickering. 445 450 And longing filled his voice that called 'Tinuviel, Tinuviel,' And longing sped his feet enthralled Behind her wayward shimmering. She heard as echo of a spell His lonely voice that longing called 'Tinuviel, Tinuviel': One moment paused she glimmering. 455 And Beren caught that elfin maid And kissed her trembling starlit eyes, Tinuviel whom love delayed In the woods of evening morrowless. Till moonlight and till music dies Shall Beren by the elfin maid Dance in the starlight of her eyes In the forest singing sorrowless. 460 465 Wherever grass is long and thin, And the leaves of countless years lie thick, And ancient roots wind out and in, As once they did in Doriath, Shall go their white feet lilting quick, But never Dairon's music thin Be heard beneath the hemlocks thick Since Beren came to Doriath. 470 This for hearts' uplifting did Halog sing them as the frowning fortress of the forest clasped them and nethermost night in its net caught them. There Turin and the twain knew torture of thirst and hunger and fear, and hideous flight from wolfriders and wandering Orcs and the things of Morgoth that thronged the woods. There numbed and wetted they had nights of waking cold and clinging, when the creaking winds summer had vanquished and in silent valleys a dismal dripping in the distant shadows ever splashed and spilt over spaces endless from rainy leaves, till arose the light greyly, grudgingly, gleaming thinly at drenching dawn. They were drawn as flies in the magic mazes; they missed their ways and strayed steerless, and the stars were hid and the sun sickened. Sombre and weary had the mountains been; the marches of Doriath bewildered and wayworn wound them helpless in despair and error, and their spirits foundered. Without bread or water with bleeding feet and fainting strength in the forest straying their death they deemed it to die forwandered, when they heard a horn that hooted afar and dogs baying. Lo! the dreary bents and hushed hollows to the hunt wakened, and echoes answered to eager tongues, for Beleg the bowman was blowing gaily,

89 who furthest fared of his folk abroad by hill and by hollow ahunting far, careless of comrades or crowded halls, as light as a leaf, as the lusty airs 475 480 485 490 495 500 505 as free and fearless in friendless places. He was great of growth with goodly limbs and lithe of girth, and lightly on the ground ' his footsteps fell as he fared towards them all garbed in grey and green and brown. 510 'Who are ye?' he asked. 'Outlaws, maybe, : hiding, hunted, by hatred dogged?' 'Nay, for famine and thirst we faint,' said Halog, 'wayworn and wildered, and wot not the road. Or hast not heard of the hills of slain, field tear-drenched where in flame and terror þ Morgoth devoured the might and valour of the hosts of Finweg and Hithlum's lord? The Thalion Erithamrod and his thanes dauntless ,there vanished from the earth, whose valiant lady yet weeps in widowhood as she waits in Hithlum. Thou lookest on the last of the lieges of Morwen, 'and the Thalion's child who to Thingol's court now wend at the word of the wife of Hurin.' 515 520 525 Then Beleg bade them be blithe, saying: 'The Gods have guided you to good keeping; I have heard of the house of Hurin undaunted, . and who hath not heard of the hills of slain, : of Nirnaith Ornoth, Unnumbered Tears! To that war I went not, yet wage a feud : with the Orcs unending, whom mine arrows fleeting ' smite oft unseen swift and deadly. 1 am the hunter Beleg of the hidden people; the forest is my father and the fells my home.' Then he bade them drink from his belt drawing a flask of leather full-filled with wine that is bruised from the berries of the burning South -the Gnome-folk know it, from Nogrod the Dwarves by long ways lead it to the lands of the North : for the Elves in exile who by evil fate the vine-clad valleys now view no more in the land of Gods. There was lit gladly a fire, with flames that flared and spluttered, of wind-fallen wood that his wizard's cunning rotten, rain-sodden, to roaring life 530 535 540 545 there coaxed and kindled by craft or magic;

90 there baked they flesh in the brands' embers; white wheaten bread to hearts' delight he haled from his wallet till hunger waned and hope mounted, but their heads were mazed by that wine of Dor-Winion that went in their veins, and they soundly slept on the soft needles of the tall pinetrees that towered above. Then they waked and wondered, for the woods were light, and merry was the morn and the mists rolling from the radiant sun. They soon were ready long leagues to cover. Now led by ways devious winding through the dark woodland, by slade and slope and swampy thicket, through lonely days, long-dragging nights, they fared unfaltering, and their friend they blessed, who but for Beleg had been baffled utterly by the magic mazes of Melian the Queen. To those shadowy shores he showed the way where stilly the stream strikes before the gates of the cavernous court of the King of Doriath. Over the guarded bridge he gained them passage, and thrice they thanked him, and thought in their hearts 'the Gods are good' -- had they guessed, maybe, what the future enfolded, they had feared to live. 550 555 560 565 570 To the throne of Thingol were the three now come; there their speech well sped, and he spake them fair, for Hurin of Hithlum he held in honour, whom Beren Ermabwed as a brother had loved and remembering Morwen, of mortals fairest, .he turned not Turin in contempt away. There clasped him kindly the King of Doriath, for Melian moved him with murmured counsel, and he said: 'Lo, O son of the swifthanded, the light in laughter, the loyal in need, Hurin of Hithlum, thy home is with me, and here shalt sojourn and be held my son. In these cavernous courts for thy kindred's sake thou shalt dwell in dear love, till thou deemest it time to remember thy mother Morwen's loneliness; thou shalt wisdom win beyond wit of mortals, 575 580 585 and weapons shalt wield as the warrior-Elves, nor slave in Hithlum shall be son of Hurin.'

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There the twain tarried that had tended the child, till their limbs were lightened and they longed to fare through dread and danger to their dear lady, so firm their faith. Yet frore and grey eld sat more heavy on the aged head 595 of Mailrond the old, and his mistress' love his might matched not, more marred by years than Halog he hoped not to home again. Then sickness assailed him and his sight darkened: 'To Turin I must turn my troth and fealty,' 600

91 he said and he sighed, 'to my sweet youngling', but Halog hardened his heart to go. An Elfin escort to his aid was given, and magics of Melian, and a meed of gold, and a message to Morwen for his mouth to bear, words of gladness that her wish was granted, and Turin taken to the tender care of the King of Doriath; of his kindly will now Thingol called her to the Thousand Caves to fare unfearing with his folk again, 610 there to sojourn in solace till her son be grown; for Hurin of Hithlum was holden in mind and no might had Morgoth where Melian dwelt.

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Of the errand of the Elves and of eager Halog the tale tells not, save in time they came 615 to Morwen's threshold. There Thingol's message was said where she sat in her solitary hall, but she dared not do as was dearly bidden, who Nienor her nursling yet newly weaned would not leave nor be led on the long marches 620 adventure her frailty in the vast forest; the pride of her people, princes ancient, had suffered her send a son to Thingol when despair urged her, but to spend her days an almsguest of others, even Elfin kings, 625 it little liked her; and lived there yet a hope in her heart that Hurin would come, and the dwelling was dear where he dwelt of old; at night she would listen for a knock at the doors or a footstep falling that she fondly knew. 630 Thus she fared not forth; thus her fate was woven. Yet the thanes of Thingol she thanked nobly, nor her shame showed she, how shorn of glory to reward their wending she had wealth too scant, but gave them in gift those golden things 635 that last lingered, and led they thence a helm of Hurin once hewn in wars when he battled with Beren as brother and comrade against ogres and Orcs and evil foes. Grey-gleaming steel, with gold adorned 640 wrights had wrought it, with runes graven of might and victory, that a magic sat there and its wearer warded from wound or death, whoso bore to battle brightly shining dire dragon-headed its dreadful crest. 645 This Thingol she bade and her thanks receive. Thus Halog her henchman to Hithlum came, but Thingol's thanes thanked her lowly and girt them to go, though grey winter enmeshed the mountains and the moaning woods, 650 for the hills hindered not the hidden people. Lo! Morwen's message in a month's journey, so speedy fared they, was spoken in Doriath. For Morwen Melian was moved to ruth, but courteously the king that casque received, 655 her golden gift, with gracious words, who deeply delved had dungeons filled with elvish armouries of ancient gear, yet he handled that helm as his hoard were scant: 'That head were high that upheld this thing 660

92 with the token crowned, the towering crest to Dorlomin dear, the dragon of the North, that Thalion Erithamrod the thrice renowned oft bore into battle with baleful foes. Would that he had worn it to ward his head 665 on that direst day from death's handstroke! ' Then a thought was thrust into Thingol's heart, and Turin was called and told kindly ' that his mother Morwen a mighty thing had sent to her son, his sire's heirloom, 670 o'er-written with runes by wrights of yore in dark dwarfland in the deeps of time, ere Men to Mithrim and misty Hithlum o'er the world wandered; it was worn aforetime by the father of the fathers of the folk of Hurin, 675 whose sire Gumlin to his son gave it ere his soul severed from his sundered heart 'Tis Telchar's work of worth untold, its wearer warded from wound or magic, from glaive guarded or gleaming axe. 680 Now Hurin's helm hoard till manhood to battle bids thee, then bravely don it, go wear it well!' Woeful-hearted did Turin touch it but take it not, too weak to wield that mighty gear, 685 and his mind in mourning for Morwen's answer was mazed and darkened. Thus many a day came to pass in the courts of Thingol for twelve years long that Turin lived. But seven winters their sorrows had laid 690 on the son of Hurin when that summer to the world came glad and golden with grievous parting; nine years followed of his forest-nurture, and his lot was lightened, for he learned at whiles from faring folk what befell in Hithlum, 695 and tidings were told by trusty Elves how Morwen his mother knew milder days and easem*nt of evil, and with eager voice all Nienor named the Northern flower, the slender maiden in sweet beauty 700 now graceful growing. The gladder was he then and hope yet haunted his heart at whiles. He waxed and grew and won renown in all lands where Thingol as lord was held for his stoutness of heart and his strong body. 705 Much lore he learned and loved wisdom, but fortune followed him in few desires; oft wrong and awry what he wrought turned, what he loved he lost, what he longed for failed, and full friendship he found not with ease, 710 nor was lightly loved, for his looks were sad; he was gloomy-hearted and glad seldom for the sundering sorrow that seared his youth. On manhood's threshold he was mighty-thewed in the wielding of weapons; in weaving song he had a minstrel's mastery, but mirth was not in it, for he mourned the misery of the Men of Hithlum.

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93 Yet greater his grief grew thereafter when from Hithlum's hills he heard no more and no traveller told him tidings of Morwen. 720 For those days were drawing to the doom of the Gnomes and the power of the Prince of the pitiless kingdom, of the grim Glamhoth, was grown apace, till the lands of the North were loud with their noise, and they fell on the folk with fire and slaughter 725 who bent not to Bauglir or the borders passed of dark Dorlomin with its dreary pines that Hithlum was called by the unhappy people. There Morgoth shut them in the Shadowy Mountains, fenced them from Faerie and the folk of the wood. 730 Even Beleg fared not so far abroad as once was his wont, for the woods were filled with the armies of Angband and with evil deeds, and murder walked on the marches of Doriath; only the mighty magic of Melian the Queen 735 yet held their havoc from the hidden people. To assuage his sorrow and to sate his rage, for his heart was hot with the hurts of his folk, then Hurin's son took the helm of his sire and weapons weighty for the wielding of men, 740 and he went to the woods with warrior-Elves, and far in the forest his feet led him into black battle yet a boy in years. Ere manhood's measure he met and he slew Orcs of Angband and evil things 745 that roamed and ravened on the realm's borders. There hard his life, and hurts he lacked not, the wounds of shaft and the wavering sheen of the sickle scimitars, the swords of Hell, the bloodfain blades on black anvils 750 in Angband smithied, yet ever he smote

unfey, fearless, and his fate kept him. Thus his prowess was proven and his praise was noised and beyond his years he was yielded honour, for by him was holden the hand of ruin 755 from Thingol's folk, and Thu feared him, and wide wandered the word of Turin: 'Lo! we deemed as dead the dragon of the North, but high o'er the host its head uprises, its wings are spread! Who has waked this spirit 760 and the flame kindled of its fiery jaws? Or is Hurin of Hithlum from Hell broken? ' And Thu who was throned as thane mightiest neath Morgoth Bauglir, whom that master bade 'go ravage the realm of the robber Thingol 765 and mar the magic of Melian the Queen', even Thu feared him, and his thanes trembled. One only was there in war greater, more high in honour in the hearts of the Elves than Turin son of Hurin, tower of Hithlum, 770 even the hunter Beleg of the hidden people, whose father was the forest and the fells his home; to bend whose bow, Balthronding named, that the black yewtree once bore of yore,

94 had none the might; unmatched in knowledge of the woods' secrets and the weary hills. He was leader beloved of the light companies all garbed in grey and green and brown, the archers arrowfleet with eyes piercing, the scouts that scoured scorning danger afar o'er the fells their foemen's lair, and tales and tidings timely won them of camps and councils, of comings and goings, all the movements of the might of Morgoth Bauglir. Thus Turin, who trusted to targe and sword, who was fain of fighting with foes well seen, where shining swords made sheen of fire, and his corslet-clad comrades-in-arms were snared seldom and smote unlooked-for. Then the fame of the fights on the far marches was carried to the courts of the king of Doriath, and tales of Turin were told in his halls, of the bond and brotherhood of Beleg the ageless with the blackhaired boy from the beaten people. Then the king called them to come before him did Orc-raids lessen in the outer lands ever and often unasked to hasten, to rest them and revel and to raise awhile in songs and lays and sweet music

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the memory of the mirth ere the moon was old, 800 when the mountains were young in the morning of the world. On a time was Turin at his table seated, and Thingol thanked him for his thriving deeds; there was laughter long and the loud clamour of a countless company that quaffed the mead and the wine of Dor-Winion that went ungrudged in their golden goblets; and goodly meats there burdened the boards neath blazing torches in those high halls set that were hewn of stone. There mirth fell on many; there minstrels clear did sing them songs of the city of Cor that Taingwethil towering mountain o'ershadowed sheerly, of the shining halls where the great gods sit and gaze on the world from the guarded shores of the gulf of Faerie. One sang of the slaying at the Swans' Haven and the curse that had come on the kindreds since

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Here the typescript IIB ends abruptly, in the middle of a page; the manuscript IIA has already ended at line 767. NOTES. The first page of the typescript of this section of the poem, covering lines 248-95, is duplicated, the one version (b) taking up changes made to the other (a) and itself receiving further changes. There is no corresponding text of IIA until line 283. 248. in the land of Mithrim (a), and (b) as typed. The emendation in (b) reverts to the reading of the first version (105), in the Land of Shadows.

95 265. Dairon's sister (a), and (b) as typed. 266 - 8. These three lines were inserted in (b), with change of who had danced 269 to had danced. See below, Note on the poem 'Light as Leaf on Lindentrre'. 273. Etmabweth (a), and (b) as typed. The emendation in (b) to Ermabwed reverts to the form of the name in the Lost Tales and in the first version of the poem (121). 274-8. As typed, (a) was virtually identical with the first version lines 122 - 5. This was then changed to read: did win her to wife, who once of old fellowship had vowed and friendly love Elf with mortal, even Egnor's son with Hurin of Hithlum, hunting often by the marge of Mithrim's misty waters. Thus said she to her son... This passage was then typed in (b), with change of hunting often to hero dauntless. Subsequently the line Elf with mortal, even Egnor's son was struck out, and other minor changes made to give the text printed. 294. Mailrond: Mailgond IIA, IIB; I read Mailrond in view of the emendations at lines 319, 596. 319. Mailrond: Mailgond IIA, and IIB as typed, emended in pencil to Mailrond; similarly at line 596. 356. Release from Bondage IIB as typed (the change to Release from Bonds was made for metrical reasons). The reference to the Lay of Leithian is not in IIA, but the manuscript is here so scrappy and disjointed as to be of no service. 358-66. These nine lines are typed on a slip pasted into IIB, replacing the following which were struck out: how Luthien the lissom he loved of yore in the enchanted forest chained with wonder as she danced like dreams of drifting whiteness of shadows shimmering shot with moonlight; In the first line (358) of the inserted slip the boldhearted is an emendation of brave undaunted; and above Ermabwed is written (later, in pencil) Er(h)amion. 374. Carcharoth: Carcharolch IIA, and IIB as typed. 398-402. These five lines are typed on a slip pasted into I IB at the same time as that giving lines 358 - 66, but in this case there was nothing replaced in the original typescript. Line 400 as typed read: that 'Light as Leaf on Lind' is called emended to the reading given. Beneath the five typed lines my father wrote: 'Here follow verses "Light as leaf on linden-tree".' Note on the poem 'Light as Leaf on Lindentree' Lines 266 - 8 (see note above) were clearly added to the typescript at the same time as the two pasted-in slips (giving lines 358 - 66 and 398 - 402), in view of line 268 who light as leaf on linden tree. This poem, here to be inset into the Lay of the Children of Hurin, is found in three typescripts, here referred to as (a), (b), and (c), together with a small manuscript page giving reworkings of the penultimate stanza. These type-

96 scripts were made with the same purple ribbon used for the texts IB and IIB of the Lay and obviously belong to the same period. (a), earliest of the three, had no title as typed: the title Light as leaf on lind was written in in ink, and before the poem begins there is written also in ink: 'Light was Tinuviel as leaf on lind light as a feather in the laughing wind.' Tinuviel! Tinuviel! On this typescript my father wrote some notes on the poem's dating: 'first beginnings Oxford 1919 - 20 Alfred St.', 'Leeds 1923, retouched 1924'. (a) is the 1923 version; it differs from the later (1924) only in the penultimate stanza, on which see note to lines 459 66 below. (b) again has no title as typed, but As light as Leaf on: Lindentree was written in ink. This begins with 15 lines of alliterative verse: In the Lay of Leithian, Release from Bondage in linked words has long been wrought of Beren Ermabwed, brave, undaunted; how Luthien the lissom he loved of yore in the enchanted forest chained in wonder. Tinuviel he named her, than nightingale more sweet her voice, as veiled in soft and wavering wisps of woven dusk shot with starlight, with shining eyes she danced like dreams of drifting sheen, pale-twinkling pearls in pools of darkness. And songs were raised for sorrow's lightening, a sudden sweetness in a silent hour, that 'Light as Leaf on Linden-tree' were called - here caught a cadent echo.

(c) has the typed title As Light as Leaf on Lind, the last word emended to Linden-tree. This has only the text of the poem, without the alliterative introduction; and the text is identical to that of (b). It will be seen that of the alliterative verses in (b) lines 1 - 2 are very close to lines 356 - 7 of the Lay (which were original lines in the typescript, not inserted later): (There was told to Turin that tale by Halog) that in the Lay of Leithian, Release from Bonds [< Bondage], in linked words has long been woven while lines 3 - 11 are identical with those on the first pasted-in slip, 358 - 66 (as typed: the boldhearted in line 358 is an emendation from brave undaunted). Further, lines 12 - 15 are close to those on the second pasted-in slip, 398 - 402: Then a song he made them for sorrow's lightening, a sudden sweetness in a silent hour, that is 'Light as Leaf on Linden' called, whose music of mirth and mourning blended yet in hearts does echo. This did Halog sing them: The order of events is very difficult to determine, but the

97 key is probably to be found in the fact that lines 356 - 7 are found in IIB as originally typed, not in the pasted-in insertion. I think (or perhaps rather guess) that my father composed an alliterative continuation of 13 lines (beginning of Beren Erma&wed, brave undaunted) as an introduction to the poem Light as Leaf on Lindentree; and then, at the same time as he typed text (b) of this poem, with the alliterative head-piece, he added them to the typescript of the Lay already in existence. Light as Leaf on Lindentree was published in The Gryphon (Leeds University), New Series, Vol. VI, no. 6, June 1925, p. 217. It is here preceded by nine lines of alliterative verse, beginning 'Tis of Beren Ermabwed brokenhearted and continuing exactly as in (b) above (and in the text of the Lay) as far as in pools of darkness; the last four lines do not appear. In his cutting from The Gryphon my father changed broken-hearted (which is obviously a mere printer's error) to the boldhearted (as in the Lay, 358); changed the title to As Light as Leaf on Lindentree; and wrote Erchamion above Ennabwed (see note to lines 358 - 66). The text of the inserted poem given in the body of the Lay is that published, which is identical to that of the typescripts (b) and (c). My father made a very few changes to (c) afterwards (i.e. after the poem had been printed) and these are given in the notes that follow, as also are the earlier forms of the penultimate verse. It may finally be observed that if my deductions are correct the introduction in the Lay of the reference to the Lay of Leithian and the outline of the story told by Halog preceded the publication of Light as Leaf on Lindentree in June 1925. 419. magic > wonder, later emendation made to the typescript (c) of Light as Leaf on Lindentree after the poem published. 424. fairy > elvish, see note to 419. 459, 464. elfin > elvish, see note to 419. 459- 66. In the typescript (a) this penultimate stanza reads as follows: And Beren caught the elfin maid And kissed her trembling starlit eyes: The elfin maid that love delayed In the days beyond our memory. Till moon and star, till music dies, Shall Beren and the elfin maid Dance to the starlight of her eyes And fill the woods with glamoury. The single manuscript page (bearing the address 'T University, Leeds') has two versions of the stanza inter mediate between that in (a) and the final form. The first these reads: Ere Beren caught the elfin maid And kissed her trembling starlit eyes Tinuviel, whom love delayed In the woven woods of Nemorie In the tangled trees of Tramorie.

98 Till music and till moonlight dies Shall Beren by the elfin maid Dance in the starlight of her eyes And fill the woods with glamoury. Other variants are suggested for lines 4 and 8: In the woven woods of Glamoury O'er the silver glades of Amoury and Ere the birth of mortal memory And fill the woods with glamoury. I can cast no light on these names. The second version advances towards the final form, with for lines 4 and 8 of the stanza: In the land of laughter sorrowless > In spells enchanted sorrowless In eve unending morrowless The lines finally achieved are also written here. This rewriting of the penultimate stanza is unquestionably the 1924 'retouching' referred to in the note on typescript (a) (see p. 120). 475. did Halog sing them: did Halog recall IIB as typed. The emendation was made at the same time as the insertion of Light as Leaf on Lindentree; as originally written the line followed on 397, at the end of Halog's story. 520. Finweg IIB unemended; see note to second version line 19. 531. Nirnaith Unoth IIA, and IIB as typed. See note to second version line 26. 550. haled underlined in IIB and an illegible word substituted, perhaps had. 576. Ermabweth IIA, and IIB as typed. Cf. line 273. 596. Mailrond: see note to line 3 I 9. 658. elfin IIA, elvish IIB as typed. 767. The manuscript IIA ends here. 811. Cor emended in pencil to Tun, but Tun later struck out. In the first version (IB, line 430) the same, but there the emendation Tun not struck out. 812. Taingwethil: Tengwethil as typed. In the first version IB introduces Tain- for Ten- at lines 431, 636, but at line 1409 IB has Ten- for IA Tain-. A later pencilled note here says: 'English Tindbrenting' (see Commentary, p. 127). Commentary on Part II of the second version 'Turin's Fostering'. (i) References to the story of Beren and Luthien In this second part of the second version the major innovation is of course the introduction of the story of Beren and Luthien, told to Turin by his guardian Halog when they were lost in the forest, at once reminiscent of Aragorn's telling of the same story to his companions on Weathertop before the attack of the Ringwraiths (The Fellowship of the Ring I. 11); and with the further introduction of the poem Light as Leaf on

99 Lindentree, the original form of the very song that Aragorn chanted on Weathertop, we realise that the one scene is actually the precursor of the other. At line 264(an original, not an interpolated line) is the first appearance of the name Luthien for Thingol's daughter, so that Tinuviel becomes her acquired name (given to her by Beren, line 361). The suggestion of the interpolated lines 266 - 7 is that Tinuviel meant 'Starmantled', which seems likely enough (see I. 269, entry Tinwe Linto; the Gnomish dictionary, contemporary with the Lost Tales, rather surprisingly gives no indication of the meaning of Tinuviel). On the other hand, in the interpolated line 361 the suggestion is equally clear that it meant 'Nightingale'. It is difficult to explain this.* The original reading at line 265, Dairon 's sister, goes back to the Tale of Tinuviel, where Dairon was the son of Tinwelint (II. 10). I noted earlier (p. 25) that lines 178-9 in the first version and never ere now for need or wonder had children of Men chosen that pathway show that Beren was still an Elf, not a Man; but while these lines are retained without change in the second version (349 - 50) their meaning is reversed by the new line that immediately follows - save Beren the brave, which shows equally clearly that Beren was a Man, not an Elf. At this time my father was apparently in two minds on this subject. At lines 273 ff. of the second version (referring to Beren's friendship with Hurin) he originally repeated lines 122 - 5 of the first, which make no statement on the matter; but in the first revision of this passage (given in the note to lines 274-8) he explicitly wrote that Beren was an Elf: (* A possible if rather finespun explanation is that lines 266-8 werc not in fact written in to the text at the same time as the two pasted-in slips (giving lines 358-66 and 398 - 402), as I have supposed (p. 120), but were earlier. O&his view, when 266-8 were written Tiniviel was not yet Beren's name for Luthien, but was her common soubriquet, known both near and far (266), and meant 'Star-mantled'. Later, when 358 - 66 were added, it had become the name given to her by Beren (361 ), and meant 'Nightingale'. If this were so, it could also supposed that line 268, who light as leaf on linden tree, gave risc to the title of the poem.) (Beren) who once of old fellowship had vowed and friendly love Elf with mortal, even Egnor's son with Hurin of Hithlum... Since this is a rewriting of the original text of IIB it is presumably a withdrawal from the idea (that Beren was a Man) expressed in lines 349 - 50; while the further rewriting of this passage, getting rid of the line Elf with mortal, even Egnor's son, presumably represents a return to it. In Halog's recounting of the story of Beren and Luthien there are some apparent differences from that told in the Tale of the Nauglafring and the Lay of Leithian. The reference to Melian's magic in line 371 is presumably to Melian's knowledge of where Beren was; cf. the Tale of Tinuviel II. 17: '"0 Gwendeling, my mother," said she, "tell me of thy magic, if thou canst, how doth Beren fare..."' A probable explanation of the mention later in this passage of the arts of Melian (393), in association with Luthien's winning Beren back from death, will be given later. But in no other version of the story is there any suggestion that Carcharoth 'hunted' Beren and Luthien (377) after he had devoured Beren's hand holding the Silmaril - indeed, the reverse: from the Tale of Tinuviel (II. 34) 'Then did Tinuviel and Beren flee like the wind from the gates, yet was Karkaras far before them' to The Silmarillion (p. 181) 'Howling he fled before them'. (The form Carcharoth now first

100 appears, by emendation of Carcharolch, which occurs nowhere else; in the Tale of Tinuviel the forms are Karkaras and (in the second version) Carcaras.) More important, lines 395-7 that they dwell for ever in days ageless and the grass greys not in the green forest where East or West they ever wander seems to represent a conception of the second lives of Beren and Luthien notably different from that in the Tale of the Nauglafring (II. 240), where the doom of mortality that Mandos had spoken fell swiftly upon them (as also in The Silmarillion, p. 236): nor this time did those twain fare the road together, but when yet was the child of those twain, Dior the Fair, a little one, did Tinuviel slowly fade... and she vanished in the woods, and none have seen her dancing ever there again. But Beren searched all the lands of Hithlum and Artanor ranging after her; and never has any of the Elves had more loneliness than his, or ever he too faded from life... However this matter is to be interpreted, the lines in the Lay are clearly to be associated with the end of Light as Leaf on Lindentree: Till moonlight and till music dies Shall Beren by the elfin maid Dance in the starlight of her eyes In the forest singing sorrowless. Compare the end of the song that Aragorn sang on Weathertop: The ring Seas between them lay, And yet at last they met once more, And long ago they passed away In the forest singing sorrowless. (ii) The Dragon-helm and Hurin's ancestors The elder of Turin's guardians, still Gumlin in the first version, is now named (Mailgond >) Mailrond; and Gumlin becomes the name of Hurin's father, who has not been even mentioned before (other than in the reference in the first version to the Dragon-helm being Hurin's heirloom, 318). In the second version the Dragon-helm was worn aforetime by the father of the fathers of the folk of Hurin, whose sire Gumlin to his son gave it ere his soul severed from his sundered heart.

(674.- 7)

The last line suggests that a story of Hurin's father had already come into existence; and line 675 suggests a long line of ancestors behind Hurin - as also does line 622, the pride of her people, princes ancient, behind Morwen. It is hard to know how my father at this time conceived the earlier generations of Men; and the question must be postponed. The Dragon-helm itself now begins to gather a history: it was made in dark dwarfland in the deeps of time, ere Men to Mithrim and misty Hithlum o'er the world wandered (672 - 4) and was the work of Telchar (678), now named for the first time. But there is still no indication of the significance attaching to the dragon-crest.

101 Lines 758 - 62 (Lo! me deemed as dead the dragon of the North ... Or is Hurin of Hithlum from Hell broken?), to which there is nothing corresponding in the first version, clearly foreshadows the Narn, p. 79: and word ran through the woods, and was heard far beyond Doriath, that the Dragon-helm of Dor-lomin was seen again. Then many wondered, saying: 'Can the spirit of Hador or of Galdor the Tall return from death; or has Hurin of Hithlum escaped indeed from the pits of Angband?' (iii) Miscellaneous Matters. The curious references to Beleg in the first version ('son of the wilderness who wist no sire', see p. 25) reappear in the second, but in a changed form, and at one of the occurrences put into Beleg's own mouth: the forest is my father 536, cf. 772. Beleg the ageless is retained in the second version (793), and at lines 544 ff. he shows a Gandalf-like quality of being able to make fire in wet wood, with his wizard's cunning (cf. The Fellowship of the Ring II. 3). The great bow of Beleg is now at last named: Balthronding (773; later Belthronding). We learn now that the strong wine of Dor-Winion that Beleg gave to the travellers and which was drunk at the fateful feast in the Thousand Caves was brought to the Northern lands from Nogrod by Dwarves (540 - 1); and also that there was viticulture in Valinor (543 - 4), though after the accounts of life in the halls of Tulkas and Orome in the tale of The Coming of the Valar (1. 75) this causes no surprise - indeed it is said that Nessa wife of Tulkas bore 'goblets o( the goodliest wine', while Measse went among the warriors in her house and 'revived the fainting with strong wine' (I. 78). An interesting detail in the second account of Turin's reception in Doriath, not found again, is that Melian played a part in the king's graciousness: for Melian moved him with murmured counsel. (580) From the feast at which Turin slew Orgof the songs of the sons of Ing of the first version (line 421) have now disappeared. The chronology of Turin's youth is slightly changed in the second version. In the first, as in the Tale (see p. 25), Turin spent seven years in Doriath while tidings still came from Morwen (line 333); this now becomes nine years (line 693), as in The Silmarillion (p. 199). Lastly, at line 812 a pencilled note against the name Taingwethil (Taniquetil) says 'English Tindbrenting'. This name is found in notes on the Old English forms of Elvish names (see p. 87), Tindbrenting pe pa Brega Taniquetil nemnad ('Tindbrenting which the Valar name Taniquetil'; Old English bregu 'king, lord, ruler' = 'Vala'). The name is perhaps to be derived from Old English tind 'projecting spike' (Modern English tine) and brenting (a derivative of brant 'steep, lofty'), here used in an unrecorded sense (brenting occurs only once in recorded Old English, in Beowulf, where it means 'ship'). * Verses associated with The Children of Hurin. There is a poem found in three manuscripts, all on 'Oxford' paper (see p. 81), in which my father developed elements in the passage lines 2082 - 2113 in The Children of Hurin to a short independent work. The first text has no title, and reads: The high summer

102 waned to autumn, and western gales the leaves loosened from labouring boughs. The feet of the forest in fading gold and burnished brown were buried deeply; a restless rustle down the roofless aisles sighed and whispered. The Silver Wherry, the sailing moon with slender mast was filled with fires as of furnace hot; its hold hoarded the heats of summer, its shrouds were shaped of shining flame uprising ruddy o'er the rim of Evening by the misty wharves on the margin of the world. Then winter hastened and weathers hardened, and sleet and snow and slanting rain from glowering heaven, grey and sunless, whistling whiplash whirled by tempest, the lands forlorn lashed and tortured: floods were loosened, the fallow waters sweeping seaward, swollen, angry, filled with flotsam, foaming, turbid passed in tumult. The tempest failed: frost descended from the far mountains, steel-cold and still. Stony-glinting icehung evening was opened wide, a dome of crystal over deep silence, the windless wastes, the woods standing frozen phantoms under flickering stars.

Against deeply in line 5 is given thickly as an alternative reading, and against Wherry in line 7 is given vessel. The first 13 lines of this are almost identical to 2082 - 94 in the Lay, with only a few slight changes (mostly for the common purpose in my father's revisions of his alliterative verse of making the lines more taut). Then follow in lines 14 - 16 adaptations of 2102 - 4; 17 is a new line; 18 contains a part of 2119; 19 - 22a are based on 2106 - 9a; 22b) - 24 are new; and 25 - 8 are almost the same as 2110 - 13. The second version of the poem bears the title Storm over Narog, and is much developed. This version as written retained lines 14 - 15 from the first, but they were changed and expanded to three; and the third text, entitled Winter comes to Nargothrond, is a copy of the second with this alteration and one or two other very slight changes. I give the third text here. Winter comes to Nargothrond. The summer slowly in the sad forest waned and faded. In the west arose winds that wandered over warring seas. Leaves were loosened from labouring boughs: fallow-gold they fell, and the feet buried of trees standing tall and naked, rustling restlessly down roofless aisles, shifting and drifting. The shining vessel of the sailing moon with slender mast, with shrouds shapen of shimmering flame, uprose ruddy on the rim of Evening by the misty wharves on the margin of the world. With winding horns winter hunted in the weeping woods, wild and ruthless; sleet came slashing, and slanting hail

103 from glowering heaven grey and sunless, whistling whiplash whirled by tempest. The floods were freed and fallow waters sweeping seaward, swollen, angry, filled with flotsam, foaming, turbid, passed in tumult. The tempest died. Frost descended from far mountains steel-cold and still. Stony-glinting icehung evening was opened wide, a dome of crystal over deep silence, over windless wastes and woods standing as frozen phantoms under flickering stars.

On the back of Winter comes to Nargothrond are written the following verses, which arose from lines 1554 - 70 of the Lay. The poem has no title. With the seething sea Sirion's waters, green streams gliding into grey furrows, murmurous mingle. There mews gather, seabirds assemble in solemn council, whitewinged hosts whining sadly with countless voices in a country of sand: plains and mountains of pale yellow sifting softly in salt breezes, sere and sunbleached. At the sea's margin a shingle lies, long and shining with pebbles like pearl or pale marble: when the foam of waves down the wind flieth in spray they sparkle; splashed at evening in the moon they glitter; moaning, grinding, in the dark they tumble; drawing and rolling, when strongbreasted storm the streams driveth in a war of waters to the walls of land. When the Lord of Ocean his loud trumpets in the abyss bloweth to battle sounding, longhaired legions on lathered horses with backs like whales, bridles spuming, charge there snorting, champing seaweed; hurled with thunder of a hundred drums they leap the bulwarks, burst the leaguer, through the sandmountains sweeping madly up the river roaring roll in fury.

The last three lines were later placed within brackets. It may be mentioned here that there exists a poem in rhyming couplets entitled The Children of Hurin. This extends only to 170 lines and breaks off abruptly, after a short prologue based on the opening of the later version of the alliterative Lay and an incomplete second section titled 'The Battle of Unnumbered Tears and Morgoth's Curse'. This poem comes however from a rather later period - approximately the time of the abandonment of the Lay of Leithian in the same metre, in the early 1930s, and I do not give it here.

II. POEMS EARLY ABANDONED.

104 During his time at the University of Leeds my father embarked on five distinct poetical works concerned with the matter of the mythology; but three of these went no further than the openings. This chapter treats each of them in turn. (i) The Flight of the Noldoli. There do not seem to be any certain indications of the date of this brief poem in alliterative verse in relation to The Children of Hurin (though it is worth noticing that already in the earliest of the three texts of The Flight of the Noldoli Feanor's son Cranthir is so named, whereas this form only arose by emendation of Cranthor in the typescript text of the Lay (line 1719)). However, both from its general air and from various details it can be seen that it comes from the same time; and since it seems unlikely that (on the one hand) my father would have embarked on a new poem in alliterative verse unless he had laid the other aside, or that (on the other) he would have returned to this mode once he was fully engaged on a long poem in rhyming couplets, I think it very probable that The Flight of the Noldoli comes from the earlier part of 1925 (see PP. 3, 81). Each of the three manuscripts of the poem (A, B, and C) is differently titled: A has The Flight of the Gnomes as sung in the Halls of Thingol; B (pencilled in later) Flight of the Gnomes; C The Flight of the Noldoli from Valinor. A has emendations that are taken up in the text of B, and B has emendations taken up in C; almost all are characteristic metrical/verbal rearrangements, as for example in line 17: A in anguish mourning, emended to the reading of B; B and in anguish mourn, emended to the reading of C; C mourning in anguish. As generally in this book, earlier variants that have no bearing on names or story are not cited. Each text ends at the same point, but three further lines are roughly written in the margin of A (see note to line 146). I give now the text of the third version, C. THE FLIGHT OF THE NOLDOLI FROM VALINOR. A! the Trees of Light, tall and shapely, gold and silver, more glorious than the sun, than the moon more magical, o'er the meads of the Gods their fragrant frith and flowerladen gardens gleaming, once gladly shone. 5 In death they are darkened, they drop their leaves from blackened branches bled by Morgoth and Ungoliant the grim the Gloomweaver. In spider's form despair and shadow a shuddering fear and shapeless night 10 she weaves in a web of winding venom that is black and breathless. Their branches fail, the light and laughter of their leaves are quenched. Mirk goes marching, mists of blackness, through the halls of the Mighty hushed and empty, 15 the gates of the Gods are in gloom mantled. Lo! the Elves murmur mourning in anguish, but no more shall be kindled the mirth of Cor in the winding ways of their walled city, towercrowned Tun, whose twinkling lamps are drowned in darkness. The dim fingers of fog come floating from the formless waste

105 and sunless seas. The sound of horns, of horses' hooves hastening wildly in hopeless hunt, they hear afar, 25 where the Gods in wrath those guilty ones through mournful shadow, now mounting as a tide o'er the Blissful Realm, in blind dismay pursue unceasing. The city of the Elves is thickly thronged. On threadlike stairs 30 carven of crystal countless torches stare and twinkle, stain the twilight and gleaming balusters of green beryl. A vague rumour of rushing voices, as myriads mount the marble paths, 35 there fills and troubles those fair places wide ways of Tun and walls of pearl. Of the Three Kindreds to that clamorous throng are none but the Gnomes in numbers drawn. The Elves of Ing to the ancient halls 40 and starry gardens that stand and gleam upon Timbrenting towering mountain that day had climbed to the cloudy-domed mansions of Manwe for mirth and song. There Bredhil the Blessed the bluemantled, 45 the Lady of the heights as lovely as the snow in lights gleaming of the legions of the stars, the cold immortal Queen of mountains, too fair and terrible too far and high for mortal eyes, in Manwe's court 50 sat silently as they sang to her. The Foam-riders, folk of waters, Elves of the endless echoing beaches, of the bays and grottoes and the blue lagoons, of silver sands sown with moonlit, 55 starlit, sunlit, stones of crystal, paleburning gems pearls and opals, on their shining shingle, where now shadows groping clutched their laughter, quenched in mourning their mirth and wonder, in amaze wandered 60 under cliffs grown cold calling dimly, or in shrouded ships shuddering waited for the light no more should be lit for ever. But the Gnomes were numbered by name and kin, marshalled and ordered in the mighty square 65 upon the crown of Cor. There cried aloud the fierce son of Finn. Flaming torches he held and whirled in his hands aloft, those hands whose craft the hidden secret knew, that none Gnome or mortal 70 hath matched or mastered in magic or in skill. 'Lo! slain is my' sire by the sword of fiends, his death he has drunk at the doors of his hall and deep fastness, where darkly hidden the Three were guarded, the things unmatched 75 that Gnome and Elf and the Nine Valar can never remake or renew on earth, recarve or rekindle by craft or magic, not Feanor Finn's son who fashioned them of yore -

106 the light is lost whence he lit them first, the fate of Faerie hath found its hour

Thus the witless wisdom its reward hath earned of the Gods' jealousy, who guard us here to serve them, sing to them in our sweet cages, to contrive them gems and jewelled trinkets, 85 their leisure to please with our loveliness, while they waste and squander work of ages, nor can Morgoth master in their mansions sitting at countless councils. Now come ye all, who have courage and hope! My call harken 90 to flight, to freedom in far places! The woods of the world whose wide mansions yet in darkness dream drowned in slumber, the pathless plains and perilous shores no moon yet shines on nor mounting dawn 95 in dew and daylight hath drenched for ever, far better were these for bold footsteps than gardens of the Gods gloom-encircled with idleness filled and empty days. Yea! though the light lit them and the loveliness 100 beyond heart's desire that hath held us slaves here long and long. But that light is dead. Our gems are gone, our jewels ravished; and the Three, my Three, thrice-enchanted globes of crystal by gleam undying 105 illumined, lit by living splendour and all hues' essence, their eager flame Morgoth has them in his monstrous hold, my Silmarils. I swear here oaths, unbreakable bonds to bind me ever, 110 by Timbrenting and the timeless halls of Bredhil the Blessed that abides thereon may she hear and heed - to hunt endlessly unwearying unwavering through world and sea, through leaguered lands, lonely mountains, 115 over fens and forest and the fearful snows, till I find those fair ones, where the fate is hid of the folk of Elfland and their fortune locked, where alone now lies the light divine.' Then his sons beside him, the seven kinsmen, crafty Curufin, Celegorm the fair, Damrod and Diriel and dark Cranthir, Maglor the mighty, and Maidros tall (the eldest, whose ardour yet more eager burnt than his father's flame, than Feanor's wrath; him fate awaited with fell purpose), these leapt with laughter their lord beside, with linked hands there lightly took the oath unbreakable; blood thereafter it spilled like a sea and spent the swords of endless armies, nor hath ended yet: 'Be he friend or foe or foul offspring of Morgoth Bauglir, be he mortal dark that in after days on earth shall dwell, shall no law nor love nor league of Gods, no might nor mercy, not moveless fate, defend him for ever from the fierce vengeance

120

125

130

135

107 of the sons of Feanor, whoso seize or steal or finding keep the fair enchanted globes of crystal whose glory dies not, the Silmarils. We have sworn for ever! '

140

Then a mighty murmuring was moved abroad and the harkening host hailed them roaring: 'Let us go! yea go from the Gods for ever on Morgoth's trail o'er the mountains of the world to vengeance and victory! Your vows are ours!

145

The poem ends here (but see note to line 146). * NOTES. 41. starry gardens C, starlit domes A, B. 42. Tengwethil's A (with Timbrenting written in margin), Timbrenting's B, Timbrenting C (with Taingwethil written in margin). See note to The Children of Hurin (second version) line 812. 45. Bridhil A, B, C, emended in C to Bredhil; so also at line 112. 107. and all hues' essence: this half-line (in the form all hue's essence) occurs also in the second version of The Children of Hurin, line 381, where it is said of the Silmaril of Beren. 111. Tengwethil A, Timbrenting B, C. 134. that in after days on earth shall dwell: this line bracketed later in pencil in C. 146. There are three roughly-written lines in the margin of the last page of A which were not taken up in B and C, but which presumably follow on line 146: But Finweg cried Fingolfin's son when his father found that fair counsel, that wit and wisdom were of worth no more: 'Fools Commentary on The Flight of the Noldoli. Sad as it is that this poem was abandoned so soon - when in full mastery of the alliterative line my father might have gone on to recount the Kinslaying of Alqualonde, the Prophecy of the North, the crossing of the Helcaraxe, and the burning of the ships, there is nonetheless in its few lines much of interest for the study of the development of the legend. Most notably, there here appears the earliest version of the actual words of the Feanorian Oath. The Oath was first referred to in the outlines for Gilfanon's Tale (I. 238, 240): The Seven Sons of Feanor swore their terrible oath of hatred for ever against all, Gods or Elves or Men, who should hold the Silmarils but it was there sworn after the coming of the Elves from Valinor, and after the death of Feanor. In the present poem is the first appearance of the. story that the Oath was taken in Valinor before the departure of the Gnomes. It has also been referred to in The Children of Hurin, lines 631 ff. of the first version, where it is implied that the mountain of Tain-Gwethil was taken in witness - as it was in The Silmarillion (p. 83): here (line i x x) Feanor himself swears by Timbrenting that he will never cease to hunt for the Silmarils. I cannot explain why line 134

108

that in after days on earth shall dwell was bracketed (always a mark of exclusion or at least of doubtful retention) in the C-text. The line reappears in identical form in the Lay of Leithian (Canto VI, 1636); cf. The Silmarillion 'Vala, Demon, Elf or Man as yet unborn'. The fixed epithets of certain of the Sons of Feanor are changed from those in The Children of Hurin (see p. 86): Celegorm is now 'the fair' and Maidros 'the tall', as thev remained; Maglor is 'the mighty' (in The Silmarillion 'the mighty singer'). The line concerning Maidros

him fate awaited with fell purpose (126) may show that a form of the story of his end was already in being (in the Tale of the Nauglafring he survived the attack on Dior the Fair but nothing more is told of him), but I think it much more likely that it refers to his capture and maiming by Morgoth. In Feanor's speech occur two interesting references: to the Nine Valar, and to his father Finn. The number of the Valar is nowhere stated in the Lost Tales (where in any case the name includes lesser divine beings; cf. e.g. I. 65 - 6 'With them came many of those lesser Vali... the Manir and the Suruli, the sylphs of the airs and of the winds'); but 'the Nine Valar' are referred to in the 'Sketch of the Mythology' (1926) and named in the 1930 'Silmarillion'. Manwe, Ulmo, Osse, Aule, Mandos, Lorien, Tulkas, Orome, and Melko. Feanor's father has not been named since the tale of The Theft of Melko and the Darkening of Valinor (I. 145 ff.), where he was called Bruithwir, slain by Melko. In ?he Children of Hurin there is no indication that Feanor was akin to other princes of the Gnomes - though there can be no doubt that by that time he in fact was so. But the essential features of the Noldorin royal house as it had now emerged and as it was to remain for many years can now be deduced. In the first version of The Children of Hurin (line 29 and note) Turgon was the son of Finwe (actually spelt Finweg), as he had been in the Lost Tales (I. 115), but this was changed to Finwe's heir, with the note 'he was Fingolfin's son'; and in the second version Turgon the mighty, IFingolfin's son is found in the text as written (48 - 9). We thus have: Finwe (Finweg) | Fingolfin Turgon Further, Finweg appears in The Children of Hurin (first version 1975, second version 19, 520) as the King of the Gnomes who died in the Battle of Unnumbered Tears; in two of these cases the name was later changed to Fingon. In the lines added at the end of the A-text of The Flight of the Noldoli (note to line 146) Finweg is Fingolfin's son. We can therefore add: Finwe (Finweg) I Fin lhn Finweg (> Fingon)

Turgon

109 Now in The Flight of the Noldoli Feanor is called Finn's son; and in the 'Sketch of the Mythology' Finn is given as an alternative to Finwe: The Eldar are divided into three hosts, one under Ingwe (Ing)..., one under Finwe (Finn) after called the Noldoli...* Thus Feanor has become Fingolfin's brother: Finwe (Finweg, Finn) | Feanor Seven sons Finweg Turgon (> Fingon) (Only in a later note to lines 1713 - 20 of The Children of Hurin has Finwe's third son Finrod appeared, father of Felagund, Angrod, Egnor, and Orodreth.) Feanor's speech also contains a curious foreknowledge of the making of the Sun and Moon (92 - 6): The woods of the world whose wide mansions yet in darkness dream drowned in slumber, the pathless plains and perilous shores no moon yet shines on nor mounting dawn in dew and daylight hath drenched for ever Very notable are Feanor's concluding words (117 - 18): till I find those fair ones, where the fate is hid of the folk of Elfland and their fortune locked Cf. The Silmarillion, p. 67: 'Mandos foretold that the fates of Arda lay locked within them', and Thingol's words to Beren (ibid. p. 167): 'though the fate of Arda lie within the Silmarils, yet you shall hold me generous'. It is clear that the Silmarils had already gained greatly in significance since the earliest period of the mythology (see I. 156, 169 note z; II. 259). In no other version is Feanor seen on this occasion holding flaming torches in his hands and whirling them aloft. The lines (38 - g) Of the Three Kindreds to that clamorous throng are none but the Gnomes in numbers drawn go back to the tale of The Flight of the Noldoli (I. 162): 'Now when... (* In the 1930 'Silmarillion' it is expressly stated that Ing and Finn are the Gnomish forms of Ingwe and Finwe.)

Feanor sees that far the most of the company is of the kin of the Noldor', on which I noted (I. 169) 'It is to be remembered that in the old story the Teleri (i.e. the later Vanyar) had not departed from Kor.' Later evidence shows that the old story had not been changed; but the fact that in the present poem the Elves of Ing (Ingwe) were on Timbrenting (Taniquetil) in the mansions of Manwe and Varda shows the entry of the later narrative (found in the 'Sketch') of the destruction of the Trees. In the old tale of The Theft of Melko and the Darkening of Valinor (I. 143 ff. and commentary I. 157) the great festival was the occasion of

110 Melko's attack on the place of the Gnomes' banishment northward in Valinor, the slaying of Feanor's father, and the theft of the Silmarils; and the destruction of the Trees followed some time afterwards. Now however the festival is the occasion of the attack on the Trees; the First Kindred are on Taniquetil but most of the Gnomes are not. The name by which Varda is here called, Bridhil the Blessed (changed in C to Bredhil), is found in the old Gnomish dictionary, and also Timbridhil (I. 269, 273, entries Tinwetari, Varda). On Timbrenting see p. 127, where the form Tindbrenting occurring in The Children of Hurin (in a note to second version line 812) is discussed. Both forms are found in the 'Sketch': Timbrenting or Tindbrenting in English, Tengwethil in Gnomish, Taniquetil in Elfin. The form with -m- is therefore evidently due to a change of pronunciation in English, ndb > mb. In line 41 the earlier reading starlit domes, changed to starry gardens, is probably to be related to the account in the tale of The Coming of the Valar and the Building of Valinor of Manwe's abode on Taniquetil (I. 73): That house was builded of marbles white fields of snow, and its roofs were made of a ilwe that is above the white and grey. This contrive, but Varda spangled it with stars, under.

and blue and stood amid the web of that blue air called web did Aule and his wife and Manwe dwelt there-

This idea of a roof lit with stars was never lost and appears in a changed form long after, though it is not mentioned in The Silmarillion. The lines (21 - 3) The dim fingers of fog came floating from the formless waste and sunless seas find an echo in The Silmarillion (p.76): it blew chill from the East in that hour, and the vast shadows of the sea were rolled against the walls of the shore. The lines at the end of the A-text (note to line 146) show that Fingolfin has taken Finwe Noleme's place as the voice of reason and moderation amid the revolutionary enthusiasm of the Noldoli in the great square of Kor (see I. 162, 171). Lastly may be noticed the term 'Foam-riders' used (line 52) of the Third Kindred (the Solosimpi of the Lost Tales, later the Teleri); this has been used once before, in AElfwine of England (II. 3I4), where it is said of AElfwine's mother Eadgifu that when he was born the Foamriders, the Elves of the Sea-marge, whom she had known of: old in Lionesse, sent messengers to his birth. Analysis of the metre of the poem. At the end of the second text (B) of The Flight of the Noldoli my father made an analysis of the metrical forms of the first 20 and certain subsequent lines. For his analysis and explanation of the Old English metre see On Translating Beowulf, in The Monsters and the Critics and Other Essays, 1983, pp. 61 ff. The letters A, + A, B, C, D, E on the left-hand side of the table refer to the 'types' of Old English half-line; the letters beneath the analyses of 'lifts' and 'dips' are the alliterations employed in

111 each line, with 0 used for any vowel (since all vowels 'alliterate' with each other) and X for a consonant beginning a lift but not forming part of the alliterative scheme of the line; the words 'full', 'simple', etc. refer to the nature of the alliterative pattern in each case. It may be noticed that the scansion of the first half of line 8 (with the first lift -goli-) shows that the primary stress fell on the second syllable of Ungoliant; and that sp can only alliterate with sp (lines 9, 130), as in Old English (the same is of course true of sh, which is a separate consonant). (ii) Fragment of an alliterative Lay of Earendel. There exists one other piece of alliterative verse concerned with the matter of the Lost Tales, the opening of a poem that has no title and does not extend far enough to make clear what its subject was to be. The fall of Gondolin, the escape of the fugitives down the secret tunnel, the fight at Cristhorn, and the long wandering in the wilds thereafter, are passed over rapidly in what were to be the introductory lines, and the subject seems about to appear at the end of the fragment: all this have others in ancient stories and songs unfolded, but say I further... and the concluding lines refer to the sojourn of the fugitives in the Land of Willows. But at the end of the text my father wrote several times in different scripts 'Earendel', 'Earendel son of Fengel', 'Earendel Fengelsson'; and I think it extremely likely, even almost certain, that this poem was to be a Lay of Earendel. (On Fengel see the next section.) The text is in the first stage of composition and is exceedingly rough, but it contains one line of the utmost interest for the history of Earendel. It is written on examination paper from the University of Leeds and clearly belongs in time with The Lay of the Children of Hurin and The Flight of the Noldoli: more than that seems impossible to say. Lo! the flame of fire and fierce hatred engulfed Gondolin and its glory fell, its tapering towers and its tall rooftops were laid all low, and its leaping fountains made no music more on the mount of Gwareth, and its whitehewn walls were whispering ash. But Wade of the Helsings wearyhearted ) Tur the earthborn was tried in battle from the wrack and ruin a remnant led women and children and wailing maidens and wounded men of the withered folk down the path unproven that pierced the hillside, neath Tumladin he led them to the leaguer of hills that rose up rugged as ranged pinnacles to the north of the vale. There the narrow way of Cristhorn was cloven, the Cleft of Eagles, through the midmost mountains. And more is told in lays and in legend and lore of others of that weary way of the wandering folk; how the waifs of Gondolin outwitted Melko, vanished o'er the vale and vanquished the hills, how Glorfindel the golden in the gap of the Eagles battled with the Balrog and both were slain: one like flash of fire from fanged rock, one like bolted thunder black was smitten to the dreadful deep digged by Thornsir.

112 Of the thirst and hunger of the thirty moons when they sought for Sirion and were sore bestead by plague and peril; of the Pools of Twilight and Land of Willows; when their lamentation was heard in the halls where the high Gods sate veiled in Valinor .. the Vanished Isles; all this have others in ancient stories and songs unfolded, but say I further how their lot was lightened, how they laid them down in long grasses of the Land of Willows. There sun was softer, ... the sweet breezes and whispering winds, there wells of slumber and the dew enchanted *

NOTES. The next lines are where stony-voiced that stream of Eagles runs o'er the rocky but the second of these is struck out and the first left without continuation. 31. The second half-line was written in the Vanished Isles, but in was struck out and replaced by a word that I cannot interpret. 36. The second half-line was written and the sweet breezes, but and was struck out and replaced by some other word, possibly then. Commentary. For the form Tur see I I. 148, 260. In the tale of The Fall of Gondolin Cristhorn, the Eagles' Cleft, was in the Encircling Mountains south of Gondolin, and the secret tunnel led southwards from the city (II. 167 - 8 etc.); but from line 14 of this fragment it is seen that the change to the north had already entered the legend. Lines 26 - 7 (the thirty moons when they sought for Sirion) go back to the Fall of Gondolin, where it is said that the fugitives wandered 'a year and more' in the wastes (see II. 195, 214). The reading of line 7 as first written (it was not struck out, but Tur the earthborn was tried in battle was added in the margins): But Wade of the Helsings wearyhearted is remarkable. It is taken directly from the very early Old English poem Widsith, where occurs the line Wada Haelsingum, sc. Wada [weold] Haelsingum, 'Wada ruled the Haelsingas'. One may well wonder why the mysterious figure of Wade should appear here in Tuor's place, and indeed I cannot explain it: but whatever the reason, the association of Wade with Tuor is not casual. Of the original story of Wade almost nothing is known; but he survived in popular recollection through the Middle Ages and later - he is mentioned by Malory as a mighty being, and Chaucer refers to 'Wade's boat' in The Merchant's Tale; in Troilus and Crisyede Pandare told a 'tale of Wade'. R. W. Chambers (Widsith, Cambridge 1912, p. 95) said that Wade was perhaps 'originally a seagiant, dreaded and honoured by the coast tribes of the North Sea and the Baltic'; and the tribe of the Haelsingas over which he is said to have ruled in Widsith is supposed to have left its name in Helsingor (Elsinore) in Denmark and in Helsingfors in Finland. Chambers summed up what few generalities he thought might be made from the scattered references in English and German as follows:

113

We find these common characteristics, which we may assume belonged to their ancient prototype, Wada of the Haelsingas: (1) Power over the sea. (2) Extraordinary strength - often typified by superhuman stature. (3) The use of these powers to help those whom Wade favours. ... Probably he grew out of the figure, not of a historic chief, but of a supernatural power, who had no story all his own, and who interested mortal men only when he interfered in their concerns. Hence he is essentially a helper in time of need; and we may be fairly confident that already in the oldest lays he possessed this character. Most interesting, however, is the fact that in Speght's annotations to Chaucer (1598) he said: Concerning Wade and his bote Guingelot, as also his strange exploits in the same, because the matter is long and fabulous, I passe it over. The likeness of Guingelot to Wingelot is sufficiently striking; but when we place together the facts that Wingelot was Earendel's ship,* that Earendel was Tuor's son, that Tuor was peculiarly associated with the sea, and that here 'Wade of the Helsings' stands in the place of Tuor, coincidence is ruled out. Wingelot was derived from Wade's boat, Guingelot as certainly, I think, as was Earendel from the Old English figure (this latter being a fact expressly stated by my father, II. 309). Why my father should have intruded 'Wade of the Helsings' into the, verses at this point is another question. It may conceivably have been unintentional - the words Wada Haelsingum were running in his mind (though in that case one might expect that he would have struck the line out and not merely written another line against it as an alternative): but at any rate the reason why they were running in his mind is clear, and this possibility in no way diminishes the demonstrative value of the line that Wingelot was derived from Guingelot, and that there was a connection of greater significance than the mere taking over of a name- just as in the case of Earendel. * (iii) The Lay of the Fall of Condolin. This was the title that late in his life my father wrote on the bundle of papers constituting the abandoned beginning of this poem; but it seems that it was not conceived on a large scale, since the narrative had reached In which he undertook 'fabulous exploits'. It is conceivable that there was some connection between Earendel's great world-girdling voyage and the travels of Wade as described by the twelfth-century English writer Walter Map, who tells how Gado (sc. Wade) journeyed in his boat to the furthest Indies. the dragon-fire arising over the northern heights already within 130 lines. That he composed it while at the University of Leeds is certain, but I strongly suspect that it was the first versification of matter from the Lost Tales undertaken, before he turned to the alliterative line. The story, so far as it goes, has undergone virtually no development from the prose tale of The Fall of Condolin, and the closeness of the Lay to the Tale can be seen from this comparison (though the passage is exceptional): (Tale, II. 158) Rejoice that ye have found it, for behold before you the City of Seven Names where all who war with Melko may find hope.'

114 Then said Tuor: 'What be those names?' And the chief of the Guard made answer: "Tis said and 'tis sung: "Gondobar am I called and Gondothlimbar, City of Stone and City of the Dwellers in Stone, &c. (Lay) Rejoice that ye have found it and rest from endless war, For the seven-named city 'tis that stands upon the hill, Where all who strive with Morgoth find hope and valour still.' 'What be those names,' said Tuor, 'for I come from long afar?' "Tis said and 'tis sung,' one answered, '"My name is Gondobar And Gondothlimbar also, the City hewn of Stone, The fortress of the Gnome-folk who dwell in Halls of Stone, &c. I do not give this poem in extenso here, since it does not, so far as the main narrative is concerned, add anything to the Tale; and my father found, as I think, the metrical form unsuitable to the purpose. There are, : however, several passages of interest for the study of the larger development of the legends. In the Tale, Tuor was the son of Peleg (who was the son of Indor, II. 160), but here he is the son of Fengel; while on a scrap of paper giving rough workings of the passage cited above* Tuor himself is called Fengel - cf. 'Earendel son of Fengel' at the end of the fragment of an Earendel Lay, p. 141. Long afterwards Fengel was the name of the fifteenth King of Rohan in the Third Age, grandfather of Theoden, and there it is the , 'Old English noun fengel 'king, prince'. There are some puzzling statements made concerning Fingolfin, whose appearance here, I feel certain, is earlier than those in the alliterative poems; and the passage in which he appears introduces also the story of Isfin and Eol. (* This is the page referred to in Unfinished Tales p. 4: some lines of verse in which appear the Seven Names of Gondolin are scribbled on the back of a piece of paper setting out "the chain of responsibility in a battalion".' Not knowing at that time where this isolated scrap came from I took this as an indication of very carly date, but this is certainly mistaken: the paper must have survived and been used years later for rough writing.) Lo, that prince of Gondobar [Meglin] dark Eol's son whom Isfin, in a mountain dale afar in the gloom of Doriath's forest, the white-limbed maiden bare, the daughter of Fingolfin, Gelmir's mighty heir. 'Twas the bent blades of the Glamhoth that drank Fingolfin's life as he stood alone by Feanor; but his maiden and his wife were wildered as they sought him in the forests of the night, in the pathless woods of Doriath, so dark that as a light of palely mirrored moonsheen were their slender elfin limbs straying among the black holes where only the dim bat skims from Thu's dark-delved caverns. There Eol saw that sheen and he caught the white-limbed Isfin, that she ever since hath been his mate in Doriath's forest, where she weepeth in the gloam; for the Dark Elves were his kindred that wander without home. Meglin she sent to Gondolin, and his honour there was high as the latest seed of Fingolfin, whose glory shall not die; a lordship he won of the Gnome-folk who quarry deep in the earth, seeking their ancient jewels; but little was his mirth, and dark he was and secret and his hair as the strands of night that are tangled in Taur Fuin* the forest without light. In the Lost Tales Finwe Noleme, first Lord of the Noldoli, was the ' father of Turgon (and so of Isfin, who was Turgon's sister), I. 115; ' Finwe Noleme was slain in the Battle of Unnumbered Tears and his -' heart cut out by Orcs, but Turgon rescued the body and heart of his father, and the Scarlet Heart became his grim emblem (I. 241, II. 172). Finwe Noleme is also called Fingolma (I. 238 - 9, II. 220).

115 In the alliterative poems Fingolfin is the son of Finwe (Finweg) and the father of Turgon, and also of Finweg (> Fingon), as he was to remain, (see p. 137). Thus: Lost Tales. Finwe Noleme (Fingolma) (slain in the Battle of Unnumbered Tean).

Turgon.

Isfin.

Alliterative Poems. Finwe. Fingolfin.

Turgon.

Finweg (> Fingon): (slain in the Battle of Unnumbered Tears). But whereas in the Lay of the Fall of Condolin Fingolfin has

(* Taur Fuin is the form in the Lost Tales; it was here emended later to Taur-na-Fuin, which is the form from the first in The Children of IIurin.) emerged and stepped into Finwe's place as the father of Turgon and Isfin, he is not here the son of Finwe but of one Gelmir: Gelmir.

Turgon Isfin. In an early prose text - one of the very few scraps (to be given in the next volume) that bridge the gap in the prose history between the Lost Tales and the 'Sketch of the Mythology' - Gelmir appears as the King of the Noldoli at the time of the flight from Valinor, and one of his sons is there named Golfin. There is too little evidence extant (if there ever was any more written down) to penetrate with certainty the earliest evolution of the Noldorin kings. The simplest explanation is that this Gelmir, father of Golfin/ Fingolfin = Fingolma/Finwe Noleme, father of Fingolfin. But it is also said in this passage that Fingolfin was slain by the Glamhoth 'as he stood alone by Feanor', and whatever story lies behind this is now vanished (for the earliest, very obscure, references to the death of Feanor see I. 238 - 9). This passage from the Lay of the Fall of Gondolin contains the first account of the story of Eol the Dark Elf, Isfin sister of Turgon, and their son Meglin (for a very primitive form of the legend see II. 220). In the prose tale of The Fall of Gondolin the story is dismissed in the words 'that tale of Isfin and Eol may not here be told', II. 165. In the Lay, Fingolfin's wife and daughter (Isfin) were seeking for him when Isfin was taken by Eol. Since in the 'Sketch' Isfin was lost in Taur-na-Fuin after the Battle of Unnumbered Tears and there trapped by Eol, it is possible that at this stage Fingolfin was the Elvish king who died (beside Feanor?) in the great battle. It is also possible that we see here the genesis

116 of the idea of Isfin's wandering in the wilds, although of course with subsequent shifts, whereby Fingolfin died in duel with Morgoth after the Battle of Sudden Flame and Fingon (Isfin's brother) was the Noldorin king slain in the Battle of Unnumbered Tears, the story that she was seeking her father was abandoned. What this passage does certainly show is that the story of Isfin's sending her son to Gondolin is original, but that originally Isfin remained with her captor Eol and never escaped from him. Eol here dwells 'in a mountain dale afar in the gloom of Doriath's forest', 'in the forests of the night', 'where only the dim bat skims from Thu's dark-delved caverns'. This must be the earliest reference to Thu, and at any rate in connected writing the earliest to Doriath (Artanor of the Lost Tales). I have suggested (II. 63) that in the Tale of Tinuviel 'Artanor was conceived as a great region of forest in the heart of which was Tinwelint's cavern', and that the zone of the Queen's protection 'was originally less distinctly bordered, and less extensive, than "the Girdle of Melian" afterwards became'. Here the description of Eol's habitation in a forest without light (where Thu lives in caverns) suggests rather the forest of Taur-na-Fuin, where Never-dawning night was netted clinging in the black branches of the beetling trees and where goblins even (whose deep eyes drill the darkest shadows) bewildered wandered (The Children of Hurin, p. 34 lines 753 ff.) The passage also contains an interesting reference to the purpose of the miners of Gondolin: 'seeking their ancient jewels.' Earlier in this Lay some lines are given to the coming of Tuor to the hidden door beneath the Encircling Mountains: Thither Tuor son of Fengel came out of the dim land that the Gnomes have called Dor-Lomin, with Bronweg at his hand, who fled from the Iron Mountains and had broken Melko's chain and cast his yoke of evil, of torment and bitter pain; who alone most faithful-hearted led Tuor by long ways through empty hills and valleys by dark nights and perilous days, till his blue lamp magic-kindled, where flow the shadowy rills beneath enchanted alders, found that Gate beneath the hills, the door in dark Dungorthin that only-the Gnome-folk knew. In a draft for this passage the name here is Nan Orwen, emended to Dungorthin. In The Children of Hurin (lines 1457 ff.) Turin and Flinding came to this 'grey valley' after they had passed west over Sirion, and reached the roots of the Shadowy Mountains 'that Hithlum girdle'. For earlier references to Nan Dungorthin and different placings of it see p. 87; the present passage seems to indicate yet another, with the hidden door of Gondolin opening into it. A few other passages may be noticed. At the beginning there is a reference to old songs telling how the Gods in council gathered on the outmost rocky bars of the Lonely Island westward, and devised a land of ease beyond the great sea-shadows and the shadowy seas; how they made the deep gulf of Faerie with long and lonely shore . . .

117 That the Gods were ferried on an island by Osse and the Oarni at the time of the fall of the Lamps is told in the tale of The Coming of the Valar

(I. 70), and that this isle was afterwards that of the Elves' ferrying (becoming Tol Eressea) is told in The Coming of the Elves (I. 118). When Gondolin was built the people cried 'Cor is built anew! ' and the guard who told Tuor the seven names said: Loth, the Flower, they name me, saying 'Cor is born again, even in Loth-a-ladwen,* the Lily of the Plain.' I have noticed earlier (II. 208) that whereas it is explicit in The Silmarillion that Turgon devised the city to be 'a memorial of Tirion upon Tuna', and it became 'as beautiful as a memory of Elven Tirion', this is not said in The Fall of Condolin: Turgon was born in the Great Lands after the return of the Noldoli from Valinor, and had never known Kor. 'One may feel nonetheless that the tower of the King, the fountains and stairs, the white marbles of Gondolin embody a recollection of Kor as it is described in The Coming of the Elves and the Making of Kor (I. 122 - 3). There is also a reference to Earendel who passed the Gates of Dread, half-mortal and half-elfin, undying and long dead. The Gates of Dread are probably the gates of the Door of Night, through which Earendel passed (II. 255). (* This is the only point in which the Seven Names differ from their forms in the Tale (II. 158). In the Tale the name of the city as 'Lily of the Valley' is Lothengriol. For ladwen 'plain' see II. 344. In a draft of the passage in the lay the name was Loth Barodrin.)

III. THE LAY OF LEITHIAN. My father wrote in his diary that he began 'the poem of Tinuviel' during the period of the summer examinations of 1925 (see p. 3), and he abandoned it in September 193 I (see below), when he was 39. The rough workings for the whole poem are extant (and 'rough' means very rough indeed); from them he wrote a fair copy, which I shall call 'A'.* On this manuscript A my father most uncharacteristically inserted dates, the first of these being at line 557 (August 23, 1925); and he composed the last hundred-odd lines of the third Canto (ending at line 757) while on holiday at Filey on the Yorkshire coast in September 1925. The next date is two and a half years and 400 lines later, 27 - 28 March 1928 written against line 1161; and thereafter each day for a further nine days, till 6 April 1928, is marked, during which time he wrote out no less than 1768 lines, to 2929. Since the dates refer to the copying of verses out fair in the manuscript, not to their actual composition, it might be thought that they prove little; but the rough workings of lines 2497 - 2504 are written on an abandoned letter dated x April 1928, and these lines were written in the fair copy A on 4 April - showing that lines 2505 - 2929 were actually composed between x and 6 April. I think therefore that the dates on A can be taken as effectively indicating the time of composition. The date November 1929 (at line 3031) is followed by a substantial amount of composition in the last week of September 1930, and again in

118 the middle of September 193 I; the last date is 17 September of that year against line 4085 very near the point where the Lay. was abandoned. Details of the dates are given in the Notes. There is also a typescript text ('B') made by my father, of which the last few hundred lines are in manuscript, and this text ends at precisely the same point as does A. This typescript was begun quite early, since my father mentioned in his diary for 16 August 1926 having done 'a little typing of part of Tinuviel', and before the end of 1929 he gave it to C. S. Lewis to read. On 7 December of that year Lewis wrote to him about it, saying: I sat up late last night and have read the Geste as far as to where Beren and his gnomish allies defeat the patrol of orcs above the sources of the (* This was written on the backs of examination-scripts, tied together and prepared as a blank manuscript: it was large enough to last through the six years, and a few scripts at the end of the bundle remained unused.) Narog and disguise themselves in the reaf [Old English: 'garments, weapons, taken from the slain']. I can quite honestly say that it is ages since I have had an evening of such delight: and the personal interest of reading a friend's work had very little to do with it. I should have enjoyed it just as well as if I'd picked it up in a bookshop, by an unknown author. The two things that come out clearly are the sense of reality in the background and the mythical value: the essence of a myth being that it should have no taint of allegory to the maker and yet should suggest incipient allegories to the reader, Lewis had thus reached in his reading about line 2017. He had evidently received more; it may be that the typescript by this time extended to the attack on Luthien and Beren by Celegorm and Curufin fleeing from Nargothrond, against which (at line 303 t) is the date November 1929 in the manuscript. Some time after this, probably early in 1930, Lewis sent my father 14 pages of detailed criticism, as far as line 1161 (if there was any more it has not survived). This criticism he contrived as a heavily academic commentary on the text, pretending to treat the Lay as an ancient and anonymous work extant in many more or less corrupt manuscripts, overlaid by scribal perversions in antiquity and the learned argumentation of nineteenth-century scholars; and thus entertainingly took the sting from some sharply expressed judgements, while at the same time in this disguise expressing strong praise for particular passages. Almost all the verses which Lewis found wanting for one reason or another are marked for revision in the typescript B if not actually rewritten, and in many cases his proposed emendations, or modifications of them, are incorporated into the text. The greater part of Lewis's commentary is given on pp. 315 ff., with the verses he criticised and the alterations made as a result. My father abandoned the Lay at the point where the jaws of Carcharoth crashed together like a trap on Beren's hand and the Silmaril was engulfed, but though he never advanced beyond that place in the narrative, he did not abandon it for good. When ?he Lord of the Rings was finished he returned to the Lay again and recast the first two Cantos and a good part of the third, and small portions of some others. To summarise the elements of this history: (1). Rough workings of the whole poem, composed 1925 - 31. (2). Manuscript A of the whole poem, written out progressively during 1925 - 31. (3). Typescript B of the whole poem (ending in manuscript), already in progress in 1926. This typescript given to C. S. Lewis towards the end of 1929,

119 when it extended probably to about line 3031. (4). Recasting of the opening Cantos and parts of some others (after the completion of The Lord of the Rings). The manuscript A was emended, both by changes and insertions, at different times, the majority of these alterations being incorporated in the typescript B; while in B, as typed, there are further changes not ' found in A. The amount of emendation made to B varies very greatly. My father used it as a basis for the later rewritings, and in these parts the old typescript is entirely covered with new verses; but for long stretches - by far the greater part of the poem - the text is untouched save for very '. minor and as it were casual modifications to individual lines here and. there. After much experimentation I have concluded that to make a single, text, an amalgam derived from the latest writing throughout the poem, would be wholly mistaken. Quite apart from the practical difficulty of changed names in the rewritten parts that do not scan in the old lines, the later verse in its range and technical accomplishment is too distinct; too much time had passed, and in the small amount that my father rewrote of the Lay of Leithian after The Lord of the Rings we have fragments of a ' new poem: from which we can gain an idea of what might have been. I have therefore excised these parts, and give them subsequently and separately (Chapter IV). A further reason for doing so lies in the purpose of this book, which includes the consideration of the Lays as important stages in the evolution of the legends. Some of the revisions to the Lay of Leithian are at least 30 years later than the commencement of the poem. From the point of view of the 'history', therefore, the abandonment of the poem in or soon after September 1931 constitutes a terminal point, and I have excluded emendations to names that are (as I believe) certainly later than that, but included those which are earlier.* In a case like that of Beleriand, for instance, which was Broseliand for much of the poem in B and always later emended to Beleriand, but had become Beleriand as first written by line 3957, I give Beleriand throughout. On the other hand I retain Gnomes since my father still used this in The Hobbit. ' The many small changes made for metrical/stylistic reasons, however, constitute a problem in the attempt to produce a 1931 text', since it is often impossible to be sure to which 'phase' they belong. Some are (* This leads to inconsistent treatment of certain names as between the two long Lays, e.g. Finweg son of Fingo1fin in The Children of Hurin but Fingon in the Lay of Leithian. Finweg survived into the 1930 version of 'The Silmarillion' but was early emended to Fingon.) demonstrably very early - e.g. candle flowers emended to flowering candles (line 516), since C. S. Lewis-commented on the latter - while others are demonstrably from many years later, and strictly speaking belong with the late rewritings; but many cannot be certainly determined. In any case, such changes - very often made to get rid of certain artifices employed as metrical aids, most notably among these the use of emphatic tenses with doth and did simply in order to obtain a syllable - such changes have no repercussions beyond the improvement of the individual line; and in such cases it seems a pity, through rigid adherence to the textual basis, to lose such small enhancements, or at any rate to hide them in a trail of tedious textual notes, while letting their less happy predecessors stand in the text. I have thought it justifiable therefore to be frankly inconsistent in these details, and while for example retaining Gnomes (for Elves or other substitution) or Thu (for Gorthu or Sauron), to introduce small changes of wording that are certainly later than these. As in the Lay of the Children of Hurin there are no numbered notes

120 to the text; the annotation, related to the line-numbers of the poem, is very largely restricted to earlier readings, and these earlier readings are restricted to cases where there is some significant difference, as of name or motive. Citations from the manuscript A are always citations from that text as first written (in very many cases it was emended to the reading found in B). It is to be noticed that while the Lay of Leithian was in process of composition the 'Sketch of the Mythology' was written (first in 1926) and rewritten, leading directly into the version of 'The Silmarillion' that I ascribe to 1930, in which many of the essentials, both in narrative and language, of the published work were already present. In my commentaries on each Canto I attempt to take stock of the development in the legends pari passu with the text of the poem, and only refer exceptionally to the contemporary prose works. The A-text has no title, but on the covering page of the bundle of rough workings is written Tinuviel, and in his early references to the poem my father called it thus, as he called the alliterative poem Turin. The B-text bears this title: The GEST of BEREN son of BARAHIR and LUTHIEN the FAY called TINUVIEL the NIGHTINGALE or the LAY OF LEITHIAN Release from Bondage

The 'Gest of Beren and Luthien' means a narrative in verse, telling of the deeds of Beren and Luthien. The word gest is pronounced as Modern English jest, being indeed the 'same word' in phonetic form, though now totally changed in meaning. My father never explained the name Leithian 'Release from Bondage', and we are left to choose, if we will, among various applications that can be seen in the poem. Nor did he leave any comment on the significance - if there is a significance - of the likeness of Leithian to Leithien 'England', In the tale of AElfwine of England the Elvish name of England is Luthien (which was earlier the name of AElfwine himself, England being Luthany), but at the first occurrence (only) of this name the word Leithian was pencilled above it (II. 330, note 20). In the 'Sketch the Mythology' England was still Luthien (and at that time Thingol daughter was also Luthien), but this was emended to Leithien, and this is the form in the 1930 version of 'The Silmarillion'. I cannot say (i) what connection if any there was between the two significances of Luthien, nor (ii) whether Leithien (once Leithian) 'England' is or was related to Leithian 'Release from Bondage'. The only evidence of an etymological nature that I have found is a hasty note, impossible to date, which refers to a stem leth- 'set free', with leithia 'release', and compares Lay of Leithian. The GEST of BEREN and LUTHIEN. I. A king there was in days of old: ere Men yet walked upon the mould his power was reared in cavern's shade,

121 his hand was over glen and glade. His shields were shining as the moon, his lances keen of steel were hewn, of silver grey his crown was wrought, the starlight in his banners caught; and silver thrilled his trumpets long beneath the stars in challenge strong; enchantment did his realm enfold, where might and glory, wealth untold, he wielded from his ivory throne in many-pillared halls of stone. There beryl, pearl, and opal pale, 15 and metal wrought like fishes' mail, buckler and corslet, axe and sword, and gleaming spears were laid in hoard all these he had and loved them less than a maiden once in Elfinesse; 20 for fairer than are born to Men a daughter had he, Luthien. Such lissom limbs no more shall run on the green earth beneath the sun; so fair a maid no more shall be 25 from dawn to dusk, from sun to sea. Her robe was blue as summer skies, but grey as evening were her eyes; 'twas sewn with golden lilies fair, but dark as shadow was her hair. 30 Her feet were light as bird on wing, her laughter lighter than the spring; the slender willow, the bowing reed, the fragrance of a flowering mead, the light upon the leaves of trees, 35 the voice of water, more than these her beauty was and blissfulness, her glory and her loveliness; and her the king more dear did prize than hand or heart or light of eyes. 40 They dwelt amid Beleriand, while Elfin power yet held the land, in the woven woods of Doriath: few ever thither found the path; few ever dared the forest-eaves 45 to pass, or stir the listening leaves with tongue of hounds a-hunting fleet, with horse, or horn, or mortal feet. To North there lay the Land of Dread, whence only evil pathways led 50 o'er hills of shadow bleak and cold or Taur-na-Fuin's haunted hold, where Deadly Nightshade lurked and lay and never came or moon or day; to South the wide earth unexplored; 55

to West the ancient Ocean roared, unsailed and shoreless, wide and wild; to East in peaks of blue were piled in silence folded, mist-enfurled,

122 the mountains of the Outer World, 60 beyond the tangled woodland shade, thorn and thicket, grove and glade, whose brooding boughs with magic hung were ancient when the world was young. There Thingol in the Thousand Caves, whose portals pale that river laves Esgalduin that fairies call, in many a tall and torchlit hall a dark and hidden king did dwell, lord of the forest and the fell; 70 and sharp his sword and high his helm, the king of beech and oak and elm.

There Luthien the lissom 'maid would dance in dell and grassy glade, and music merrily, thin and clear, 75 went down the ways, more fair than ear of mortal Men at feast hath heard, and fairer than the song of bird. When leaves were long and grass was green then Dairon with his fingers lean, 80 as daylight melted into shade, a wandering music sweetly made, enchanted fluting, warbling wild, for love of Thingol's elfin child. There bow was bent and shaft was sped, 85 the fallow deer as phantoms fled, and horses proud with braided mane, with shining bit and silver rein, went fleeting by on moonlit night, as swallows arrow-swift in flight; 90 a blowing and a sound of bells, a hidden hunt in hollow dells. There songs were made and things of gold, and silver cups and jewels untold, and the endless years of Faery land 95 rolled over far Beleriand, until a day beneath the sun, when many marvels were begun. NOTES. The opening of the poem in B is complicated by the fact that my father partly rewrote, and retyped, the first Canto - a rewriting entirely distinct from the later fundamental recasting that the early part of the poem underwent. This first rewriting of the opening Canto was done while the original composition of the poem was still proceeding, but was fairly far advanced. The second version was typed in exactly the same form as that it replaced, whereas the last part of the B-text is not typed; but the name Beleriand appears in it, as typed, and not as an emendation, whereas elsewhere in B the form is Broseliand, always emended in ink to Beleriand.* Moreover it was the first version of Canto I in the B-text that C. S. Lewis read on the night of 6 December 1929, and I think it very probable that it was Lewis's criticism that led my father to rewrite the opening (see pp. 315 - 16). In the following notes the first version of B is called B(1), the rewritten text given above being B(2). I - 30 A: A king was in the dawn of days:

123 his golden crown did brightly blaze with ruby red and crystal clear; his meats were sweet, his dishes dear; red robes of silk, an ivory throne, and ancient halls of arched stone, and wine and music lavished free, and thirty champions and three, all these he had and heeded not. His daughter dear was Melilot: from dawn to dusk, fron sun to sea, no fairer maiden found could be. Her robe was blue as summer skies, but not so blue as were her eyes; 'twas sewn with golden lilies fair, but none so golden as her hair.

An earlier draft, after line 12 found could be, has the couplet: from England unto Eglamar o'er folk and field and lands afar. (* Once near the very end (line 3957), in the manuscript conclusion of the B-text, the form as written is Beleriand, not Broseliand.) B(1): A king there was in olden days: &c. as A to line 6 and hoarded gold in gleaming grot, all these he had and heeded not. But fairer than are born to Men a daughter had he, Luthien: &c. as B(2) 14-18. These lines were used afterwards in Gimli's song in Moria (The Fellowship of the Ring II. 4); see the Commentary by C. S. Lewis, p. 3I6. 41-4.

A: They dwelt in dark Broceliand while loneliness yet held the land. B(1): They dwelt beyond Broseliand while loneliness yet held the land, in the forest dark of Doriath. Few ever thither found the path;

In B(1) Ossiriande is pencilled above Broseliand. As noted above, B (2) has Beleriand as typed. 48. After this line A and B(1) have: Yet came at whiles afar and dim beneath the roots of mountains grim a blowing and a sound of bells, a hidden hunt in hollow dells. The second couplet reappears at a later point in B(2), lines 9 I - 2. 49-61 A and B(1): To North there lay the Land of Dread,

124 whence only evil pathways led o'er hills of shadow bleak and cold; to West and South the oceans rolled unsailed and shoreless, wild and wide; to East and East the hills did hide beneath the tangled woodland shade, 65-6. A: There Celegorm his ageless days doth wear amid the woven ways, the glimmering aisles and endless naves whose pillared feet that river laves 67. Esgalduin A, but Esgaduin in the rough workings, which is the form in The Children of Hurin (p. 76, line 2164) before correction.

73. A: There Melilot the lissom maid 79-84. Not in A. 85-93. A and B(1) (with one slight difference): There bow was bent and shaft was sped and deer as fallow phantoms fled, and horses pale with harness bright went jingling by on moonlit night; there songs were made and things of gold See note to line 48. 96. A: rolled over dark Broceliand, B(1): rolled over far Broseliand, In B(1) Ossiriande is pencilled against Broseliand, as at line 41. Commentary on Canto I. An extraordinary feature of the A-version is the name Celegorm given to the King of the woodland Elves (Thingol); moreover in the next Canto the role of Beren is in A played by Maglor, son of Egnor. The only possible conclusion, strange as it is, is that my father was prepared to abandon Thingol for Celegorm and (even more astonishing) Beren for Maglor. Both Celegorm and Maglor as sons of Feanor have appeared in the Tale of the Nauglafring and in the Lay of the Children of Hurin. The name of the king's daughter in A, Melilot, is also puzzling (and is it the English plant-name, as in Melilot Brandybuck, a guest at Bilbo Baggins' farewell party?). Already in the second version of The Children of Hurin Luthien has appeared as the 'true' name of Tinuviel (see p. x ig, note to 358 - 66). It is perhaps possible that my father in fact began the Lay of Leithian before he stopped work on The Children of Hurin, in which case Melilot might be the first 'true' name of Tinuviel, displaced by Luthien; but I think that this is extremely unlikely.* In view of Beren > Maglor, I think Luthien > Melilot far more probable. In any event, Beren and Luthien soon appear in the original drafts of the Lay of Leithian. It is strange also that in A the king's daughter was blue-eyed and golden-haired, for this would not accord with the robe of darkness that (* My father expressly stated in his diary that he began Tinuviel iel in the summer of 1925; and it is to be noted that a reference to the Lay of Leithian appears in the alliterative head-piece to one of the typcscripts of Light as Leaf on Lindentree - which was actually published in June 1925 (see pp. 120-1). Thus the reference in the second version of The Children of Hurin to the Lay of Leithian (p. 107 line 356) is not evidence that he had in

125 fact begun it.)

she spun from her hair: in the Tale of Tinuviel her hair was 'dark' (II. 20). The name Broceliand that appears in A (Broseliand B) is remarkable, but I can cast no light on my father's choice of this name (the famous Forest of Broceliande in Brittany of the Arthurian legends).> It would be interesting to know how Broseliand led to Beleriand, and a clue may perhaps be found on a page of rough working for the opening of the Lay, where he jotted down various names that must be possibilities that he was pondering for the name of the land. The fact that Ossiriand occurs among them, while it is also pencilled against Broseliand at lines 41 and 96 in B(1), may suggest that these names arose during the search for a replacement of Broseliand. The names are: Colodhinand, Noldorinan, Geleriand, Bladorinand, Belaurien, Arsiriand, Lassiriand, Ossiriand. 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 by fires illumined underground, that winds of ice with moaning sound made flare and flicker in dark smoke;

100

126 the wavering bitter coils did choke the sunless airs of dungeons deep 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 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 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 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 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 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

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127 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 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 upon that night of sudden fear when all I lost that I held dear': thus thought his heavy heart amazed

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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, 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 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,

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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

128 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

129 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, 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, and dreaded only thraldom's chain. Danger he sought and death pursued,

330

335

130

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 one autumn night, and creeps him forth; the leaguer of his watchful foes he passes - silently he goes. No more his hidden bowstring sings, no more his shaven arrow wings, 370 no more his hunted head doth lie upon the heath beneath the sky. The moon that looked amid the mist upon the pines, the wind that hissed among the heather and the fern 375 found him no more. The stars that burn about the North with silver fire in frosty airs, the Burning Briar that Men did name in days long gone, were set behind his back, and shone o'er land and lake and darkened hill, forsaken fen and mountain rill.

380

His face was South from the Land of Dread, whence only evil pathways led, and only the feet of men most bold 385 might cross the Shadowy Mountains cold. Their northern slopes were filled with woe, with evil and with mortal foe; their southern faces mounted sheer in rocky pinnacle and pier, 390 whose roots were woven with deceit and washed with waters bitter-sweet. There magic lurked in gulf and glen, for far away beyond the ken

131 of searching eyes, unless it were 395 from dizzy tower that pricked the air where only eagles lived and cried, might grey and gleaming be descried Beleriand, Beleriand, the borders of the faery land. 400 NOTES. 128. 134. 141. 177-9.

A: a lord of Men undaunted, bold A: Maglor his son and other ten. A: But the king Bauglir did hunt them sore Earlier reading: to this far vale among the hills a haggard hungry people tills, there hooted nigh a hunting owl 205. found: earlier reading sought 209 - 10. A: with tidings of Lord Egnor's band, and where their hidings in the land 235. A: and Egnor was betrayed and slain 246. A: yet Maglor it was by fortune good who hunting &c. 272. A: till Maglor waking swiftly sought 277. A: to where his father Egnor lay; 297. A: he took from Egnor's slaughtered hand: 298. Broceliand A, Broseliand B emended to Beleriand 301. A: for this same Egnor that I slew 304. Celegorm A, emended to Felagoth and then to Felagund 310. A: I found the hand of Egnor bare! ' 313 - 16. These four lines were bracketed, and that at line 3 I 7 changed to Then, before the B-text went to C. S. Lewis (my father's numbering of the lines excludes these four, and Lewis's line-references agree). Lewis did not concur with the exclusion of 3 I 3 - 14, and I have let all four lines stand. See pp. 318-19. 317,329. Maglor A, Beren B 326. A: and deep ghylls in the mountains torn. 331-3. A: ere Egnor in the wilderness was slain; but now his loneliness, grief and despair, did rob his life 360. A: proud Maglor fled the forest fast (fast is used in the sense 'secure against attack'; cf. fastness). 365. Maglor A, Beren B 377-81. A: about the North with silver flame in frosty airs, that men did name Timbridhil in the days long gone, he set behind his back, and shone that sickle of the heavenly field that Bridhil Queen of stars did wield o'er land and lake and darkened hill, The fifth and sixth lines are bracketed, with and shone in the fourth changed to It shone. 383-4. Cf. lines 49 - 50. 399. Broceliand A, Broseliand B emended to Beleriand. Commentary on Canto II. In this second Canto the story of the betrayal of the outlaw band is already in A close to its final form in essentials; but there is no trace of the story in any form earlier than the first drafts of the Lay of Leithian, composed in the summer of 1925 (see p. 150). In commenting on the

132 Tale of Tinuviel I noted (II. 52): It seems clear that at this time the history of Beren and his father (Egnor) was only very sketchily devised; there is in any case no hint of the story of the outlaw band led by his father and its betrayal by Gorlim the Unhappy before the first form of the Lay of Leithian. There are indeed differences in the plot of the Lay from the story told in The Silmarillion (pp. 162ff.): thus the house where Gorlim saw the phantom of Eilinel was not in the Lay his own; his treachery was far deeper and more deliberate, in that he sought out the servants of Morgoth with the intention of revealing the hiding-place of the outlaws; and he came before Morgoth himself (not Thu-Sauron). But these differences are much outnumbered by the similarities, such as the absence of MaglorBeren on the fatal day, the apparition of Gorlim coming to him in dream across the water of the lake, the carrion-birds in the alder-trees, the cairn, the seizing of the ring, his friendship with birds and beasts. As regards the names in the A-text: Gorlim and Eilinel were to remain. Maglor-Beren has already been discussed (p. 159). Egnor was still his father, as in the last Tales (the emendation to Barahir in the second version of the Tale of Tinuviel, II. 43, was a change made casually years later). Bauglir (which entered during the composition of The Children of Hurin, see p. 52) is changed throughout to Morgoth, but this seems not to have been a rejection of the name, since it appears later in the B-text of the Lay, and survives in The Silmarillion. In A Varda is called Bridhil (note to lines 377 - 81), as she is also in alliterative poem The Plight of the Noldoli (pp. 135, 139); but it is puzzling that the constellation of the Great Bear is in the same passage called Timbridhil, for that according to the old Gnomish dictionary is the title of Varda herself (as one would expect: cf. Tinwetari, I. 269). The 'Sickle of the Gods' (Valacirca) is here the 'sickle of the heavenly field' wielded by Bridhil Queen of Stars. I can cast no light at all on the name Burning Briar that appears in B (line 378); it reappears in the 1930 version of 'The Silmarillion': Many names have these [the Seven Stars] been called, but in the old days of the North both Elves and Men called them the Burning Briar, and some the Sickle of the Gods. For the earliest myth of the Great Bear see I. I 14, 133. Indications of geography are sparse, and not increased in the B-text. Taur-na-Fuin has been named earlier in B (line 52), but it is not actually said in the present Canto to be the region where the outlaws lurked, though there is no reason to doubt that this is where my father placed it. Coming southwards Maglor-Beren crossed 'the Shadowy Mountains cold' (386). The Shadowy Mountains were named several times in The Children of Hurin, where they are the mountains fencing Hithlum, mirrored in the pools of Ivrin, as they are in The Silmarillion. But it would obviously be impossible for Beren to cross the Shadowy Mountains in this application of the name if he were coming out of Taur-na-Fuin and moving south towards Doriath. In the 'Sketch of the Mythology' Beren likewise 'crosses the Shadowy Mountains and after grievous hardships comes to Doriath', and similarly in the 1930 version; in this latter, however, 'Mountains of Shadow' was emended to 'Mountains of Terror'. It is then clear that in the Lay of Leithian my father was using 'Shadowy Mountains' in a different sense from that in The Children of Hurin, and that the Shadowy Mountains of the present Canto are the first mention of Ered Gorgoroth, the Mountains of Terror, 'the precipices in which Dorthonion [Taur-nu-Fuin] fell southward'

133 (The Silmarillion p. 95); but the other meaning reappears (p. 234.). The lake where Egnor-Barahir and his band dwelt in hiding, in The Silmarillion (p. 162) Tarn Aeluin, is not named in the Lay, where the hiding-place was 'a wooded island in the fen' (280). That the Orc-camp was beside a spring (also unnamed) appears in the Lay, and it is here a hot spring (292 - 3); in The Silmarillion (p. 163) it was Rieil's Well above the Fen of Serech. Most notable of the features of this Canto so far as the development of the legends is'concerned, the rescue of Felagund by Barahir in the Battle of Sudden Flame (The Silmarillion p. 152) makes its first appearance in the 'service' done to Celegorm by Egnor in A (lines 301 - 4, where B has Felagund and Barahir). 'Celegorm' has already ceased its brief life as a replacement of Thingol (see p. 159), and is now again that of one of the sons of Feanor, as it was in The Children of Hurin. When these lines in A were written the story was that Celegorm (and Curufin) founded Nargothrond after the breaking of the Leaguer of Angband - a story that seems to have arisen in the writing of The Children of Hurin, see pp. 83 - 5;, and it was Celegorm who was rescued by Egnor-Barahir in that battle, and who gave Egnor-Barahir his ring. In the B-text the story has moved forward again, with the emergence of (Felagoth >) Felagund as the one saved by Barahir and the founder of Nargothrond, thrusting Celegorm and Curufin into a very different role. In A Egnor and his son Maglor (Beren) are Men (e.g. Egnor was 'a lord of Men', note to line 128). In the first version of The Children of Hurin Beren was still an Elf, while in the second version my father seems to have changed back and forth on this matter (see pp. 124 - 5). He had not even now, as will appear later, finally settled the question. III. There once, and long and long ago, before the sun and moon we know were lit to sail above the world, when first the shaggy woods unfurled, and shadowy shapes did stare and roam beneath the dark and starry dome that hung above the dawn of Earth, the silences with silver mirth were shaken; the rocks were ringing, the birds of Melian were singing, 410 the first to sing in mortal lands, the nightingales with her own hands she fed, that fay of garments grey; and dark and long her tresses lay beneath her silver girdle's seat 415 and down unto her silver feet. She had wayward wandered on a time from gardens of the Gods, to climb the everlasting mountains free that look upon the outmost sea, 420 and never wandered back, but stayed and softly sang from glade to glade. Her voice it was that Thingol heard, and sudden singing of a bird, in that old time when new-come Elves 425 had all the wide world to themselves. Yet all his kin now marched away, as old tales tell, to seek the bay on the last shore of mortal lands,

405

134 where mighty ships with magic hands 430 they made, and sailed beyond the seas. The Gods them bade to lands of ease and gardens fair, where earth and sky together flow, and none shall die. But Thingol stayed, enchanted, still, 435 one moment to hearken to the thrill of that sweet singing in the trees. Enchanted moments such as these from gardens of the Lord of Sleep, where fountains play and shadows creep, 440 do come, and count as many years in mortal lands. With many tears his people seek him ere they sail, while Thingol listens in the dale. There after but an hour, him seems, 445 he finds her where she lies and dreams, pale Melian with her dark hair upon a bed of leaves. Beware! There slumber and a sleep is twined! He touched her tresses and his mind 450 was drowned in the forgetful deep, and dark the years rolled o'er his sleep. Thus Thingol sailed not on the seas but dwelt amid the land of trees, and Melian he loved, divine, 455 whose voice was potent as the wine the Valar drink in golden halls where flower blooms and fountain falls; but when she sang it was a spell, and no flower stirred nor fountain fell. 460 A king and queen thus lived they long, and Doriath was filled with song, and all the Elves that missed their way and never found the western bay, the gleaming walls of their long home 465 by the grey seas and the white foam, who never trod the golden land where the towers of the Valar stand, all these were gathered in their realm beneath the beech and oak and elm. 470 In later days when Morgoth first, fleeing the Gods, their bondage burst, and on the mortal lands set feet, and in the North his mighty seat founded and fortified, and all 475 the newborn race of Men were thrall unto his power, and Elf and Gnome his slaves, or wandered without home, or scattered fastnesses walled with fear upraised upon his borders drear, 480 and each one fell, yet reigned there still in Doriath beyond his will Thingol and deathless Melian, whose magic yet no evil can that cometh from without surpass. 485 Here still was laughter and green grass, and leaves were lit with the white sun, and many marvels were begun.

135

In sunshine and in sheen of moon, with silken robe and silver shoon,

490

the daughter of the deathless queen now danced on the undying green, half elven-fair and half divine; and when the stars began to shine unseen but near a piping woke, 495 and in the branches of an oak, or seated on the beech-leaves brown, Dairon the dark with ferny crown played with bewildering wizard's art music for breaking of the heart. 500 Such players have there only been thrice in all Elfinesse, I ween: Tinfang Gelion who still the moon enchants on summer nights of June and kindles the pale firstling star; 505 and he who harps upon the far forgotten beaches and dark shores where western foam for ever roars, Maglor whose voice is like the sea; and Dairon, mightiest of the three. 510 Now it befell on summer night, upon a lawn where lingering light yet lay and faded faint and grey, that Luthien danced while he did play. The chestnuts on the turf had shed 515 their flowering candles, white and red; there darkling stood a silent elm and pale beneath its shadow-helm there glimmered faint the umbels thick of hemlocks like a mist, and quick 520 the moths on pallid wings of white with tiny eyes of fiery light were fluttering softly, and the voles crept out to listen from their holes; the little owls were hushed and still; 525 the moon was yet behind the hill. Her arms like ivory were gleaming, her long hair like a cloud was streaming, her feet atwinkle wandered roaming in misty mazes in the gloaming; 530 and glowworms shimmered round her feet,

and moths in moving garland fleet above her head went wavering wan and this the moon now looked upon, uprisen slow, and round, and white, 535 above the branches of the night. Then clearly thrilled her voice and rang; with sudden ecstasy she sang a song of nightingales she learned and with her elvish magic turned 540 to such bewildering delight the moon hung moveless in the night. And this it was that Beren heard, and this he saw, without a word,

136 enchanted dumb, yet filled with fire 545 of such a wonder and desire that all his mortal mind was dim; her magic bound and fettered him, and faint he leaned against a tree. Forwandered, wayworn, gaunt was he, 550 his body sick and heart gone cold, grey in his hair, his youth turned old; for those that tread that lonely way a price of woe and anguish pay. And now his heart was healed and slain 555 with a new life and with new pain. He gazed, and as he gazed her hair within its cloudy web did snare the silver moonbeams sifting white between the leaves, and glinting bright the tremulous starlight of the skies was caught and mirrored in her eyes. Then all his journey's lonely fare, the hunger and the haggard care, the awful mountains' stones he stained with blood of weary feet, and gained only a land of ghosts, and fear in dark ravines imprisoned sheer there mighty spiders wove their webs, old creatures foul with birdlike nebs that span their traps in dizzy air, and filled it with clinging black despair,

560

565

570

and there they lived, and the sucked bones lay white beneath on the dank stones now all these horrors like a cloud 575 faded from mind. The waters loud falling from pineclad heights no more he heard, those waters grey and frore that bittersweet he drank and filled his mind with madness - all was stilled. 580 He recked not now the burning road, the paths demented where he strode endlessly... and ever new horizons stretched before his view, as each blue ridge with bleeding feet 585 was climbed, and down he went to meet battle with creatures old and strong and monsters in the dark, and long, long watches in the haunted night while evil shapes with baleful light 590 in clustered eyes did crawl and snuff beneath his tree - not half enough the price he deemed to come at last to that pale moon when day had passed, to those clear stars of Elfinesse, 595 the hearts-ease and the loveliness. Lo! all forgetting he was drawn unheeding toward the glimmering lawn by love and wonder that compelled his feet from hiding; music welled 600 within his heart, and songs unmade on themes unthought-of moved and swayed his soul with sweetness; out he came,

137 a shadow in the moon's pale flame and Dairon's flute as sudden stops as lark before it steeply drops, as grasshopper within the grass listening for heavy feet to pass. 'Flee, Luthien!', and'Luthien!' from hiding Dairon called again; 'A stranger walks the woods! Away! ' But Luthien would wondering stay; fear had she never felt or known,

605

610

till fear then seized her, all alone, seeing that shape with shagged hair 615 and shadow long that halted there. Then sudden she vanished like a dream in dark oblivion, a gleam in hurrying clouds, for she had leapt among the hemlocks tall, and crept 620 under a mighty plant with leaves all long and dark, whose stem in sheaves upheld an hundred umbels fair; and her white arms and shoulders bare her raiment pale, and in her hair 625 the wild white roses glimmering there, all lay like spattered moonlight hoar in gleaming pools upon the floor. Then stared he wild in dumbness bound at silent trees, deserted ground; 630 he blindly groped across the glade to the dark trees' encircling shade, and, while she watched with veiled eyes, touched her soft arm in sweet surprise. Like startled moth from deathlike sleep 635 in sunless nook or bushes deep she darted swift, and to and fro with cunning that elvish dancers know about the trunks of trees she twined a path fantastic. Far behind 640 enchanted, wildered and forlorn Beren came blundering, bruised and torn: Esgalduin the elven-stream, in which amid tree-shadows gleam the stars, flowed strong before his feet. 645 Some secret way she found, and fleet passed over and was seen no more, and left him forsaken on the shore. 'Darkly the sundering flood rolls past! To this my long way comes at last 650 a hunger and a loneliness, enchanted waters pitiless.' A summer waned, an autumn glowed, and Beren in the woods abode, as wild and wary as a faun 655 that sudden wakes at rustling dawn, and flits from shade to shade, and flees the brightness of the sun, yet sees all stealthy movements in the wood. The murmurous warmth in weathers good,

660

138 the hum of many wings, the call of many a bird, the pattering fall of sudden rain upon the trees, the windy tide in leafy seas, the creaking of the boughs, he heard; but not the song of sweetest bird brought joy or comfort to his heart, a wanderer dumb who dwelt apart; who sought unceasing and in vain to hear and see those things again: a song more fair than nightingale, a wonder in the moonlight pale.

665

670

An autumn waned, a winter laid the withered leaves in grove and glade; the beeches bare were gaunt and grey, 675 and red their leaves beneath them lay. From cavern pale the moist moon eyes the white mists that from earth arise to hide the morrow's sun and drip all the grey day from each twig's tip. 680 By dawn and dusk he seeks her still; by noon and night in valleys chill, nor hears a sound but the slow beat on sodden leaves of his own feet. The wind of winter winds his horn; 685 the misty veil is rent and torn. The wind dies; the starry choirs leap in the silent sky to fires, whose light comes bitter-cold and sheer through domes of frozen crystal clear. 690 A sparkle through the darkling trees, a piercing glint of light he sees, and there she dances all alone upon a treeless knoll of stone!

Her mantle blue with jewels white 695 caught all the rays of frosted light. She shone with cold and wintry flame, as dancing down the hill she came, and passed his watchful silent gaze, a glimmer as of stars ablaze. 700 And snowdrops sprang beneath her feet, and one bird, sudden, late and sweet, shrilled as she wayward passed along. A frozen brook to bubbling song awoke and laughed; but Beren stood 705 still bound enchanted in the wood. Her starlight faded and the night closed o'er the snowdrops glimmering white. Thereafter on a hillock green he saw far off the elven-sheen of shining limb and jewel bright often and oft on moonlit night; and Dairon's pipe awoke once more, and soft she sang as once before. Then nigh he stole beneath the trees,

710

715

139 and heartache mingled with hearts-ease. A night there was when winter died; then all alone she sang and cried and danced until the dawn of spring, and chanted some wild magic thing 720 that stirred him, till it sudden broke the bonds that held him, and he woke to madness sweet and brave despair. He flung his arms to the night air, and out he danced unheeding, fleet, 725 enchanted, with enchanted feet. He sped towards the hillock green, the lissom limbs, the dancing sheen; he leapt upon the grassy hill his arms with loveliness to fill: 730 his arms were empty, and she fled; away, away her white feet sped. But as she went he swiftly came and called her with the tender name of nightingales in elvish tongue, 735 that all the woods now sudden rung: 'Tinuviel! Tinuviel!' And clear his voice was as a bell; its echoes wove a binding spell: 'Tinuviel! Tinuviel! ' 740 His voice such love and longing filled one moment stood she, fear was stilled; one moment only; like a flame he leaped towards her as she stayed and caught and kissed that elfin maid. As love there woke in sweet surprise the starlight trembled in her eyes. A! Luthien! A! Luthien! more fair than any child of Men; 0! loveliest maid of Elfinesse, what madness does thee now possess! A! lissom limbs and shadowy hair and chaplet of white snowdrops there; 0! starry diadem and white pale hands beneath the pale moonlight! She left his arms and slipped away just at the breaking of the day.

745

750

755

NOTES. 439. Original reading of B: from gardens of the God of Sleep, 457. Original reading of B: the Gods drink in their golden halls 467-8. Original reading of B: who never passed the golden gate where doorwards of the Gods do wait, These three changes are late, and their purpose is to remove

140 the word Gods. The change in line 468 also gets rid of the purely metrical do in do wait; similarly did build and fortify > founded and fortified 475 and did raise > upraised 480 look as if they belong to the same time. On the other hand did flutter > were fluttering 523 and did waver > ment wavering 533 seem to belong with the early emendations (see C. S. Lewis's commentary, pp. 320 - 1). I mention these changes here to illustrate my remarks on this subject, pp. 152-3. 493. elfin- B, emended to elven-. Here and subsequently this belongs with the early changes, as does elfin to elvish at 540, etc. 503. Tinfang Warble A, and B as typed; Gelion an early change in B. 508. After this line A has a couplet omitted in B: from England unto Eglamar on rock and dune and sandy bar, The first of these lines occurs also in an early draft for the opening of the poem, see p. 157, note to lines I - 30. 509. Maglor A, B; in the rough draft of this passage Ivare (with Maglor written beside it). 527-30. Marked in B with an X (i.e. in need of revision), but with no other verses substituted. 557. This line begins a new page in the A manuscript; at the top of the page is written the date 2318125'. 558. golden A, and B as typed (no doubt an oversight), early emended to cloudy. See note to lines 1 - 30, and pp. 159-60. 648. After this line the bundle of examination-scripts on which the A manuscript is written (p. 150) is interleaved with other pages, which carry the poem to the end of Canto III. At the bottom of the first of these pages is written Filey l925, where my father was on holiday in September of that year. 743 The couplet lacks its second line. The passage 741 - 5 is a hasty revision, based on a criticism of Lewis's; see his commentary, P- 325. Commentary on Canto III. In this Canto there are many things that derive from the Tale of Tinuviel (II. 10ff.): the chestnut trees, the white moths, the moon rising, the sudden ceasing of Dairon's piping, Tinuviel's unwillingness to flee, her hiding under the hemlocks like spattered moonlight (cf. II. x x 'like a spatter of moonlight shimmering'), Beren's touching her arm, her darting between the tree-trunks, and afterwards the 'treeless knoll' where she danced in the winter. But the Canto is also related to the poem Light as Leaf on Lindentree (see pp. 108 - 10, 120 - 2), which had been published in June 1925, while this part of the Lay of Leithian was written a little later in the same year. Echoes of the one poem are heard in the other, and more than an echo in the line and out he danced unheeding, fleet, which is found in both (p. 109, line 447; p. 179, line 725). The aberrant names in the first two Cantos of A have now disappeared from the text. In the second Canto my father had already given back the name Celegorm to the son of Feanor (note to line 304), and now Thingol appears in A; Luthien replaces Melilot; and Beren replaces Maglor. Morgoth now replaces Bauglir in A (see p. 170). In both texts Tinuviel is now explicitly the Elvish word for 'nightin-

141 gale' (line 735; see p. 124); and Maglor, again in both texts, is the name of one of the three greatest singers of Elfinesse: he who harps upon the far forgotten beaches and dark shores where western foam for ever roars, Maglor whose voice is like the sea (506-9) In the rough draft of this passage the name of this minstrel is however Ivare (though Maglor is written beside it), and Ivare was named in the Tale of Tinuviel (II. 10), with Tinfang and Dairon, as one of 'the three most magic players of the Elves', who 'plays beside the sea'. This is the first hint of the after-history of Maglor son of Feanor, who in the Tale of the Nauglafring (II. 241) was slain, as also was Celegorm, in the attack on Dior. The lines in A, omitted in B (note to line 508), are interesting: from England unto Eglamar on rock and dune and sandy bar The form Eglamar (Gnomish, = Eldamar) occurs in the very early poem The Shores of Faery and its prose preface (II. 262, 272); and the same line from England unto Eglamar is found in the rough workings of the beginning of the Lay (note to lines 1 - 30). The mention of England is a reminder that at this time the association of the legends with Eriol/AElfwine was still very much alive, though there is no other indication of it in the Lay of Leithian. Tinfang Warble reappears from the Lost Tales at line 503, changed to Tinfang Gelion; the meaning of Gelion is not explained. In one respect only does the narrative content of the Canto depart in any significant way from the common 'tradition' of the texts, but this is sufficiently remarkable: the Elves departed over the sea to Valinor at the end of the Great Journey in a fleet of ships! Yet all his kin now marched away, as old tales tell, to seek the bay on the last shore of mortal lands, where mighty ships with magic hands they made, and sailed beyond the seas. (427 - 31) This is very strange (and I am at a loss to account for it, except by the obvious explanation of a passing shift), in that the story of the 'island-car' (Tol Eressea), which goes back to the Lost Tales (I. 118-20), is present in all the versions of 'The Silmarillion'. The Elves are here presented, on the other hand, as great shipbuilders in the beginning of their days. With the reference in the passage just cited to the bay whence the Elves set sail cf. The Silmarillion p. 57, where it is told that Ulmo anchored the 'island-car' in the Bay of Balar (and that the eastern horn of the island, breaking off, was the Isle of Balar). In the description of Beren's journey to Doriath in lines 563 ff. is the first account of the Ered Gorgoroth, the Mountains of Terror (called 'the Shadowy Mountains' in Canto II, see pp. 170-1), with their spiders and their waters that drove mad those who drank from them (cf. The Silmarillion p. 121; and with lines 590 - 1 evil shapes arith baleful light/in clustered eyes cf. ibid. p. 164: 'monsters... hunting silently with many eyes'). IV. He lay upon the leafy mould,

142 his face upon earth's bosom cold, aswoon in overwhelming bliss, enchanted of an elvish kiss, seeing within his darkened eyes the light that for no darkness dies, the loveliness that doth not fade, though all in ashes cold be laid. Then folded in the mists of sleep he sank into abysses deep, drowned in an overwhelming grief for parting after meeting brief; a shadow and a fragrance fair lingered, and waned, and was not there. Forsaken, barren, bare as stone, the daylight found him cold, alone. 'Where art thou gone? The day is bare, the sunlight dark, and cold the air! Tinuviel, where went thy feet? 0 wayward star! 0 maiden sweet! 0 flower of Elfland all too fair for mortal heart! The woods are bare! The woods are bare! ' he rose and cried. 780 'Ere spring was born, the spring hath died!' And wandering in path and mind he groped as one gone sudden blind, who seeks to grasp the hidden light with faltering hands in more than night. 785 And thus in anguish Beren paid for that great doom upon him laid, the deathless love of Luthien, too fair for love of mortal Men; and in his doom was Luthien snared, the deathless in his dying shared; and Fate them forged a binding chain of living love and mortal pain. Beyond all hope her feet returned at eve, when in the sky there burned the flame of stars; and in her eyes there trembled the starlight of the skies, and from her hair the fragrance fell of elvenflowers in elven-dell.

790

795

Thus Luthien, whom no pursuit, 800 no snare, no dart that hunters shoot, might hope to win or hold, she came at the sweet calling of her name; and thus in his her slender hand was linked in far Beleriand; 805 in hour enchanted long ago her arms about his neck did go, and gently down she drew to rest his weary head upon her breast. A! Luthien, Tinuviel, 810 why wentest thou to darkling dell with shining eyes and dancing pace, the twilight glimmering in thy face? Each day before the end of eve she sought her love, nor would him leave, 815

760

765

770

775

143 until the stars were dimmed, and day came glimmering eastward silver-grey. Then trembling-veiled she would appear and dance before him, half in fear;

there flitting just before his feet 820 she gently chid with laughter sweet: 'Come! dance now, Beren, dance with me! For fain thy dancing I would see. Come! thou must woo with nimbler feet, than those who walk where mountains meet the bitter skies beyond this realm of marvellous moonlit beech and elm.' In Doriath Beren long ago new art and lore he learned to know; his limbs were freed; his eyes alight, 830 kindled with a new enchanted sight; and to her dancing feet his feet attuned went dancing free and fleet; his laughter welled as from a spring of music, and his voice would sing 835 as voices of those in Doriath where paved with flowers are floor and path. The year thus on to summer rolled, from spring to a summertime of gold. Thus fleeting fast their short hour flies, 840 while Dairon watches with fiery eyes, haunting the gloom of tangled trees all day, until at night he sees in the fickle moon their moving feet, two lovers linked in dancing sweet, 845 two shadows shimmering on the green where lonely-dancing maid had been. 'Hateful art thou, 0 Land of Trees! May fear and silence on thee seize! My flute shall fall from idle hand 850 and mirth shall leave Beleriand; music shall perish and voices fail and trees stand dumb in dell and dale!' It seemed a hush had fallen there upon the waiting woodland air; 855 and often murmured Thingol's folk in wonder, and to their king they spoke: 'This spell of silence who hath wrought? What web hath Dairon's music caught?

It seems the very birds sing low; 860 murmurless Esgalduin doth flow; the leaves scarce whisper on the trees, and soundless beat the wings of bees! ' This Luthien heard, and there the queen her sudden glances saw unseen. 865 But Thingol marvelled, and he sent for Dairon the piper, ere he went and sat upon his mounded seat -

825

144 his grassy throne by the grey feet of the Queen of Beeches, Hirilorn, 870 upon whose triple piers were borne the mightiest vault of leaf and bough from world's beginning until now. She stood above Esgalduin's shore, where long slopes fell beside the door, 875 the guarded gates, the portals stark of the Thousand echoing Caverns dark. There Thingol sat and heard no sound save far off footsteps on the ground; no flute, no voice, no song of bird, 880 no choirs of windy leaves there stirred; and Dairon coming no word spoke, silent amid the woodland folk. Then Thingol said: '0 Dairon fair, thou master of all musics rare, 885 0 magic heart and wisdom wild, whose ear nor eye may be beguiled, what omen doth this silence bear? What horn afar upon the air, what summons do the woods await? 890 Mayhap the Lord Tavros from his gate and tree-propped halls, the forest-god, rides his wild stallion golden-shod amid the trumpets' tempest loud, amid his green-clad hunters proud, 895 leaving his deer and friths divine and emerald forests? Some faint sign of his great onset may have come upon the Western winds, and dumb the woods now listen for a chase 900 that here once more shall thundering race beneath the shade of mortal trees. Would it were so! The Lands of Ease hath Tavros left not many an age, since Morgoth evil wars did wage, 905 since ruin fell upon the North and the Gnomes unhappy wandered forth. But if not he, who comes or what?' And Dairon answered: 'He cometh not! No feet divine shall leave that shore, 910 where the Shadowy Seas' last surges roar, till many things be come to pass, and many evils wrought. Alas! the guest is here. The woods are still, but wait not; for a marvel chill 915 them holds at the strange deeds they see, but kings see not - though queens, maybe, may guess, and maidens, maybe, know. Where one went lonely two now go! ' 'Whither thy riddle points is plain' 920 the king in anger said, 'but deign to make it plainer! Who is he that earns my wrath? How walks he free within my woods amid my folk, a stranger to both beech and oak?' 925 But Dairon looked on Luthien and would he had not spoken then, and no more would he speak that day,

145 though Thingol's face with wrath was grey. Then Luthien stepped lightly forth: 930 'Far in the mountain-leaguered North, my father,' said she, 'lies the land that groans beneath King Morgoth's hand. Thence came one hither', bent and worn in wars and travail, who had sworn 935 undying hatred of that king; the last of Beor's sons, they sing, and even hither far and deep within thy woods the echoes creep through the wild mountain-passes cold, 940 the last of Beor's house to hold a sword unconquered, neck unbowed, a heart by evil power uncowed. No evil needst thou think or fear of Beren son of Barahir! 945 If aught thou hast to say to him, then swear to hurt not flesh nor limb, and I will lead him to thy hall, a son of kings, no mortal thrall.' Then long King Thingol looked on her 950 while hand nor foot nor tongue did stir, and Melian, silent, unamazed, on Luthien and Thingol gazed. 'No blade nor chain his limbs shall mar' the king then swore. 'He wanders far, 955 and news, mayhap, he hath for me, and words I have for him, maybe! ' Now Thingol bade them all depart save Dairon, whom he called: 'What art, what wizardry of Northern mist 960 hath this illcomer brought us? List! Tonight go thou by secret path, who knowest all wide Doriath, and watch that Luthien - daughter mine, what madness doth thy heart entwine, 965 what web from Morgoth's dreadful halls hath caught thy feet and thee enthralls! that she bid not this Beren flee back whence he came. I would him see! Take with thee woodland archers wise. 970 Let naught beguile your hearts or eyes! ' Thus Dairon heavyhearted did, and the woods were filled with watchers hid; yet needless, for Luthien that night led Beren by the golden light 975 of mounting moon unto the shore and bridge before her father's door; and the white light silent looked within the waiting portals yawning dim. Downward with gentle hand she led through corridors of carven dread whose turns were lit by lanterns hung or flames from torches that were flung on dragons hewn in the cold stone with jewelled eyes and teeth of bone. Then sudden, deep beneath the earth

980

985

146 the silences with silver mirth were shaken and the rocks were ringing, the birds of Melian were singing; and wide the ways of shadow spread 990 as into arched halls she led Beren in wonder. There a light like day immortal and like night of stars unclouded, shone and gleamed. A vault of topless trees it seemed, 995 whose trunks of carven stone there stood like towers of an enchanted wood in magic fast for ever bound, bearing a roof whose branches wound in endless tracery of green 1000 lit by some leaf-emprisoned sheen of moon and sun, and wrought of gems, and each leaf hung on golden stems. Lo! there amid immortal flowers the nightingales in shining bowers 1005 sang o'er the head of Melian, while water for ever dripped and ran from fountains in the rocky floor. There Thingol sat. His crown he wore of green and silver, and round his chair 1010 a host in gleaming armour fair. Then Beren looked upon the king and stood amazed; and swift a ring of elvish weapons hemmed him round. Then Beren looked upon the ground, 1015 for Melian's gaze had sought his face, and dazed there drooped he in that place, and when the king spake deep and slow: 'Who art thou stumblest hither? Know that none unbidden seek this throne 1020 and ever leave these halls of stone! ' no word he answered, filled with dread. But Luthien answered in his stead: 'Behold, my father, one who came pursued by hatred like a flame! 1025 Lo! Beren son of Barahir! What need hath he thy wrath to fear, foe of our foes, without a friend, whose knees to Morgoth do not bend?' 'Let Beren answer! ' Thingol said. 1030 'What wouldst thou here? What hither led thy wandering feet, 0 mortal wild? How hast thou Luthien beguiled or darest thus to walk this wood unasked, in secret? Reason good 1035 'twere best declare now if thou may, or never again see light of day! ' Then Beren looked in Luthien's eyes and saw a light of starry skies, and thence was slowly drawn his gaze 1040 to Melian's face. As from a maze of wonder dumb he woke; his heart the bonds of awe there burst apart and filled with the fearless pride of old; in his glance now gleamed an anger cold. 1045 'My feet hath fate, 0 king,' he said,

147 'here over the mountains bleeding led, and what I sought not I have found, and love it is hath here me bound. Thy dearest treasure I desire; 1050 nor rocks nor steel nor Morgoth's fire nor all the power of Elfinesse shall keep that gem I would possess. For fairer than are born to Men A daughter hast thou, Luthien.' 1055 Silence then fell upon the hall; like graven stone there stood they all, save one who cast her eyes aground, and one who laughed with bitter sound. Dairon the piper leant there pale 1060 against a pillar. His fingers frail there touched a flute that whispered not; his eyes were dark; his heart was hot. 'Death is the guerdon thou hast earned, 0 baseborn mortal, who hast learned 1065

in Morgoth's realm to spy and lurk like Orcs that do his evil work! ' 'Death! ' echoed Dairon fierce and low, but Luthien trembling gasped in woe. 'And death,'said Thingol, 'thou shouldst taste, 1070 had I not sworn an oath in haste that blade nor chain thy flesh should mar. Yet captive bound by never a bar, unchained, unfettered, shalt thou be in lightless labyrinth endlessly 1075 that coils about my halls profound by magic bewildered and enwound; there wandering in hopelessness thou shalt learn the power of Elfinesse!' 'That may not be! ' Lo! Beren spake, 1080 and through the king's words coldly brake. 'What are thy mazes but a chain wherein the captive blind is slain? Twist not thy oaths, 0 elvish king, like faithless Morgoth! By this ring 1085 the token of a lasting bond that Felagund of Nargothrond once swore in love to Barahir, who sheltered him with shield and spear and saved him from pursuing foe 1090 on Northern battlefields long ago death thou canst give unearned to me, but names I will not take from thee of baseborn, spy, or Morgoth's thrall! Are these the ways of Thingol's hall? ' 1095 Proud are the words, and all there turned to see the jewels green that burned in Beren's ring. These Gnomes had set as eyes of serpents twined that met beneath a golden crown of flowers, 1100 that one upholds and one devours: the badge that Finrod made of yore and Felagund his son now bore.

148 His anger was chilled, but little less, and dark thoughts Thingol did possess, though Melian the pale leant to his side and whispered: '0 king, forgo thy pride!

1105

Such is my counsel. Not by thee shall Beren be slain, for far and free from these deep halls his fate doth lead, 1110 yet wound with thine. 0 king, take heed! ' But Thingol looked on Luthien. 'Fairest of Elves! Unhappy Men, children of little lords and kings mortal and frail, these fading things, 1115 shall they then look with love on thee?' his heart within him thought. 'I see thy ring,' he said, '0 mighty man! But to win the child of Melian a father's deeds shall not avail, 1120 nor thy proud words at which I quail. A treasure dear I too desire, but rocks and steel and Morgoth's fire from all the powers of Elfinesse do keep the jewel I would possess. 1125 Yet bonds like these I hear thee say affright thee not. Now go thy way! Bring me one shining Silmaril from Morgoth's crown, then if she will, may Luthien set her hand in thine; 1130 then shalt thou have this jewel of mine.' Then Thingol's warriors loud and long they laughed; for wide renown in song had Feanor's gems o'er land and sea, the peerless Silmarils; and three 1135 alone he made and kindled slow in the land of the Valar long ago, and there in Tun of their own light they shone like marvellous stars at night, in the great.Gnomish hoards of Tun, 1140 while Glingal flowered and Belthil's bloom yet lit the land beyond the shore where the Shadowy Seas' last surges roar, ere Morgoth stole them and the Gnomes seeking their glory left their homes, 1145 ere sorrows fell on Elves and Men, ere Beren was or Luthien, ere Feanor's sons in madness swore

their dreadful oath. But now no more their beauty was seen, save shining clear 1150 in Morgoth's dungeons vast and drear. His iron crown they must adorn, and gleam above Orcs and slaves forlorn, treasured in Hell above all wealth, more than his eyes; and might nor stealth 1155 could touch them, or even gaze too long upon their magic. Throng on throng of Orcs with reddened scimitars encircled him, and mighty bars and everlasting gates and walls, 1160

149 who wore them now amidst his thralls. Then Beren laughed more loud than they in bitterness, and thus did say: 'For little price do elven-kings their daughters sell - for gems and rings 1165 and things of gold! If such thy will, thy bidding I will now fulfill. On Beren son of Barahir thou hast not looked the last, I fear. Farewell, Tinuviel, starlit maiden! 1170 Ere the pale winter pass snowladen, I will return, not thee to buy with any jewel in Elfinesse, but to find my love in loveliness, a flower that grows beneath the sky.' 1175 Bowing before Melian and the king he turned, and thrust aside the ring of guards about him, and was gone, and his footsteps faded one by one in the dark corridors. 'A guileful oath 1180 thou sworest, father! Thou hast both to blade and chain his flesh now doomed in Morgoth's dungeons deep entombed,' said Luthien, and welling tears sprang in her eyes, and hideous fears 1185 clutched at her heart. All looked away, and later remembered the sad day whereafter Luthien no more sang. Then clear in the silence the cold words rang of Melian: 'Counsel cunning-wise, 1190 O king! ' she said. 'Yet if mine eyes lose not their power, 'twere well for thee that Beren failed his errantry. Well for thee, but for thy child a dark doom and a wandering wild.' 'I sell not to Men those whom I love' said Thingol, 'whom all things above I cherish; and if hope there were that Beren should ever living fare to the Thousand Caves once more, I swear he should not ever have seen the air or light of heaven's stars again.' But Melian smiled, and there was pain as of far knowledge in her eyes; for such is the sorrow of the wise.

1195

1200

1205

NOTES. The opening of this Canto is extant in two typescripts (to line 863), the second version being substantially expanded; it was the first of them that C. S. Lewis received - indeed, it is clear that the rewriting was in part due to his criticism. 758-863. The rough drafts for this portion of the Lay (much briefer than the later text here printed) were written on the backs of booksellers' invoices dated 31 December 1925 and 2 February 1926. 761. In this Canto elvish rather than elfin is found already in A, but still elfin in both texts at 1164 (emended in B to elven-).

150 elven- 799 occurs in a line found only in the later rewriting, B(2). 762-73. These lines are not in A; the B(1) version, severely criticised by C. S. Lewis, is given with his commentary, p. 326. 781-841. A: and the bare woods nor moved nor sighed. Yet ever after when star or moon shone clear or misty then came she soon just after day before the eve and found him, nor his side did leave 5 until night waned and starlight ceased and day came pale o'er the pathless east. And there in far Broseliand

he learned the touches of her hand; his feet grew swift as unseen airs, his laughter soft, and far his cares, his voice like those in Doriath that wander where there runs no path. Thus days of golden spring did rise while Dairon watched with fiery eyes

The spelling Broseliand with s has now entered the A-text. B(1) is as A, except that between lines 7 and 8 above were inserted ten lines that my father retained in the much longer B(2) text, 818 - 27 (Then trembling-veiled, &c.) 805. Broseliand B (2), emended to Beleriand. 849-51. These verses are an emendation to B (2)', with Beleriand thus written. For the B(1) version criticised by C. S. Lewis and the B(2) version before emendation see Lewis's commentary, p. 327, 89I, 904. Tavros was emended in B to Tauros, but this seems to have been a much later change. The rough workings here had first the name (Ormain >) Ormaid, then Tavros. 937. Original reading of B: the last of Men, as songs now sing (with like echoes 939) 941. Original reading of B: the last of Men alone to hold 983-5. These lines are marked with an X on the B-text, and the words on dragons underlined and marked with an X presumably because the creatures of Morgoth were not carved on the walls of the Thousand Caves. 987-9. These lines are repeated from Canto III, lines 408-10. 1010. silver: original reading of B gold. 1059-63 . These lines are marked with an X on the B-text, as also are lines 1068 - 9. It may be that my father wished to represent Dairon as less unequivocally hostile to Beren, and also as ashamed of his words to Thingol (909-19). 1087. A: that Celegorm of Nargothrond with Celegorm emended first to Felagoth and then to Felagund (as at line 304). 1098. Gnomes: in the margin of B is written Elves/smiths. This is clearly a late change intended simply to get rid of the word Gnomes (see I. 43 - 4). 1102 -3. A: the badge that Feanor made of yore and Celegorm his son now bore. Celegorm is not emended here as it is at line 1087, but the couplet is enclosed within brackets in the manuscript. 1141. Glingal, Belthil: original readings of B Glingol, Bansil. The same changes were made in The Children of Hurin (pp. 80 - 1, notes to lines 2027 - 8), where I retain the earlier

151 forms. 1144-5. These lines are marked with an X on the B-text, perhaps simply because of the word Gnomes which here occurs in rhyme and cannot be easily replaced (see note to 1098); but C. S. Lewis criticised the word their in line 1145 as obscure in its reference (see his commentary, p. 329). 1151. A: in Morgoth Bauglir's dungeons drear. See p. 182. 1161. Here is written in the margin of the A manuscript: 'Mar. 27, 28 1928'. 1175. This line was not originally in A but was pencilled in with queried indications to place it either after 1172 or (with irregular rhyming) after 1174, as it is in B. Commentary on Canto IV. Comparison of this Canto with the Tale of Tinuviel shows that the narrative has undergone a deepening of significance, and this is largely brought about by the cardinal change of Beren's being no longer an Elf but a mortal Man (see p. 171). The story told in the poem is that of The Silmarillion (pp. 165-8); for the prose version, close to the Lay in every feature large and small, and indeed in many actual phrases, was based directly on the verses, and in this Canto the verses underwent no significant later revision. There are some elements in the poem that were not taken up into the prose version, such as the description of the Thousand Caves (980 ff.), whose splendour and beauty now first appear (cf. my remarks on Thingol's wealth, pp. 160-1) - but a description of Thingol's dwelling is given earlier in The Silmarillion, p. 93. In the original text of the Silmarillion version Daeron's part was in fact entirely excluded, though obviously only for the sake of compression (it was reintroduced into the published work*). The loud laughter of Thingol's warriors at Thingol's demand that Beren fetch him a Silmaril is not in the prose account, and was perhaps deliberately excluded. This feature harks back rather to the scene in the Tale of Tinuviel (II. 13), where Thingol 'burst into laughter' at the aspect of Beren as suitor for his daughter, and where the courtiers smiled when Thingol requested a Silmaril as the bride-price, seeing that he 'treated the matter as an uncouth jest'. Cf. my commentary on the Tale, II. 53: The tone is altogether lighter and less grave than it afterwards became; in the jeering laughter of Thingol, who treats the matter as a jest and Beren as a benighted fool, there is no hint of what is quite explicit in the later story: 'Thus he wrought the doom of Doriath, and was ensnared within the curse of Mandos.' Canto III was in being by the autumn of 1925; while against Canto IV (* On pp. 166, 172; but the passage concerning Daeron on p. 183 is original. My father apparently intended to insert references to Daeron's betrayals of Luthien, but did not do so.) line 1161 in A there stands the date 27 - 8 March, 1928. The rough drafts for the opening of I V (lines 758 - 863) are written on the backs of invoices dated December 1925 and February 1926, but this does not show very much. In any case it seems to me most improbable that my father was writing lines 758 - 1161 over a period of two and a half years (September 1925 to March 1928): it is far more likely that there was a long gap, and that this fourth Canto was written pretty much at one time. Other evidence in fact suggests that he paused. There exist three pages of notes written on the backs of booksellers' invoices dated February, March, and May 1926, and these pages are of great interest for the development of the legend, for they contain a rapidly-composed plot-outline in which my father is seen working out the narrative of the next Cantos of the Lay.

152 This outline I will refer to as 'Synopsis I'. I give here its content as far as the end of Canto IV. Contractions used for names are expanded, and passages struck out (done at the time of writing) are included. Beren and Tinuviel dance in the woods. Dairon reports to the king. Beren taken captive to the king. Dairon will have him slain. The king will shut him in his dungeons. Tinuviel pleads. Melian [struck out: says that he must not be slain, and that] refuses to advise but warns Thingol darkly that Beren must not be slain by him, and his coming was not without fate. Thingol sends him for the Silmaril. Beren's speech. Melian says [struck out: this was better than his death, but] it were better for Thingol if Beren succeeded not. Thingol said he would not send him if [he] were going to succeed. Melian smiles. Flight of Beren. In the Tale of Tinsuviel Beren was led by Tinuviel into Thingol's caves (II. 13), and as I noted (I I. 52-3): The betrayal of Beren to Thingol by Daeron... has no place in the old story - there is nothing to betray; and indeed it is not shown in the tale that Dairon knew anything whatsoever of Beren before Tinuviel led him into the cave, beyond having once seen his face in the moonlight. Moreover, in the Tale Dairon was Tinuviel's brother (II. 10; see p.124). In the Lay (lines 909 ff.) Dairon utters strong hints concerning the strange quietness of the forest, which lead directly to a declaration by Luthien of Beren's presence, and a demand that her father shall not harm him; Thingol swears that he will not, but sends Dairon with archers to prevent Beren's escape - needlessly, for Luthien brings him that same night to Thingol's hall. This first part of Synopsis I suggests ideas that were never given form. Thus Dairon speaks to Thingol of Beren, as in the Lay, but Beren is actually apprehended and taken to the king as a prisoner; moreover (while it is of course impossible to be certain of the precise articulation of the plot from such an extremely compressed outline) Dairon seems more actively to seek Beren's death than he does in the poem (despite line 1068), and Tinuviel pleads against her father's policy. For explanation of the references in A to Celegorm (notes to lines 1087, 1102 - 3) see p. 171. According to the earlier story seen in A the ring given to Barahir was made by Feanor, Celegorm's father. In B the later story is present, and the badge of the entwined serpents is that of Felagund's father Finrod (Finarfin in The Silmarillion) who now first appears (other than in a later note to The Children of Hurin, see pp. 80, 138. Barahir now first replaces Egnor as Beren's father in A; and by later emendation to B (lines 937, 941) Beor appears, who at this time, as is seen from the prose texts, was Barahir's father. With exceedingly complex genealogical and chronological restructuring of the houses of the, Elf-friends in later years Beor came to be removed from Barahir by many generations. The name Tavros given to Orome (891, 904) has occurred long before in the Gnomish dictionary, defined as the 'chief wood-fay, the Blue Spirit of the Woods' (I. 267, entry Tavari). With his tree-propped halls (892) compare the description of Orome's dwelling in Valmar in the tale

153 of The Coming of the Valar and the Building of Valinor, I. 75 - 6. At line 893 is the first mention of the golden hooves of Orome's horse. V So days drew on from the mournful day; the curse of silence no more lay on Doriath, though Dairon's flute and Luthien's singing both were mute. The murmurs soft awake once more about the woods, the waters roar past the great gates of Thingol's halls; but no dancing step of Luthien falls on turf or leaf. For she forlorn, where stumbled once, where bruised and torn,

with longing on him like a dream, had Beren sat by the shrouded stream Esgalduin the dark and strong, she sat and mourned in a low song: 'Endless roll the waters past! 1220 To this my love hath come at last, enchanted waters pitiless, a heartache and a loneliness.' The summer turns. In branches tall she hears the pattering raindrops fall, the windy tide in leafy seas, the creaking of the countless trees; and longs unceasing and in vain to hear one calling once again the tender name that nightingales were called of old. Echo fails. 'Tinuviel! Tinuviel! ' the memory is like a knell, a faint and far-off tolling bell: 'Tinuviel! Tinuviel! ' 1235

1225

1230

'0 mother Melian, tell to me some part of what thy dark eyes see! Tell of thy magic where his feet are wandering! What foes him meet? 0 mother, tell me, lives he still 1240 treading the desert and the hill? Do sun and moon above him shine, do the rains fall on him, mother mine?' 'Nay, Luthien my child, I fear he lives indeed in bondage drear. 1245 The Lord of Wolves hath prisons dark, chains and enchantments cruel and stark, there trapped and bound and languishing now Beren dreams that thou dost sing.' 'Then I alone must go to him 1250 and dare the dread in dungeons dim; for none there be that will him aid in all the world, save elven-maid whose only skill were joy and song, and both have failed and left her long.' 1255

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1215

154

Then nought said Melian thereto, though wild the words. She wept anew, and ran through the woods like hunted deer with her hair streaming and eyes of fear. Dairon she found with ferny crown 1260 silently sitting on beech-leaves brown. On the earth she cast her at his side. '0 Dairon, Dairon, my tears,' she cried, 'now pity for our old days' sake! Make me a music for heart's ache, I 265 for heart's despair, and for heart's dread, for light gone dark and laughter dead! ' 'But for music dead there is no note,' Dairon answered, and at his throat his fingers clutched. Yet his pipe he took, I 270 and sadly trembling the music shook; and all things stayed while that piping went wailing in the hollows, and there intent they listened, their business and mirth, their hearts' gladness and the light of earth 1275 forgotten; and bird-voices failed while Dairon's flute in Doriath wailed. Luthien wept not for very pain, and when he ceased she spoke again: 'My friend, I have a need of friends, 1280 as he who a long dark journey wends, and fears the road, yet dare not turn and look back where the candles burn in windows he has left. The night in front, he doubts to find the light 1285 that far beyond the hills he seeks.' And thus of Melian's words she speaks, and of her doom and her desire to climb the mountains, and the fire and ruin of the Northern realm 1290 to dare, a maiden without helm or sword, or strength of hardy limb, where magic founders and grows dim. His aid she sought to guide her forth and find the pathways to the North, 1295 if he would not for love of her

go by her side a wanderer. 'Wherefore,' said he, 'should Dairon go into direst peril earth doth know for the sake of mortal who did steal 1300 his laughter and joy? No love I feel for Beren son of Barahir, nor weep for him in dungeons drear, who in this wood have chains enow, heavy and dark. But thee, I vow, 1305 I will defend from perils fell and deadly wandering into hell.' No more they spake that day, and she perceived not his meaning. Sorrowfully she thanked him, and she left him there. A tree she climbed, till the bright air

1310

155 above the woods her dark hair blew, and straining afar her eyes could view the outline grey and faint and low of dizzy towers where the clouds go, 1315 the southern faces mounting sheer in rocky pinnacle and pier of Shadowy Mountains pale and cold; and wide the lands before them rolled. But straightway Dairon sought the king 1320 and told him his daughter's pondering, and how her madness might her lead to ruin, unless the king gave heed. Thingol was wroth, and yet amazed; in wonder and half fear he gazed 1325 on Dairon, and said: 'True hast thou been. Now ever shall love be us between, while Doriath lasts; within this realm thou art a prince of beech and elm! ' He sent for Luthien, and said: 1330 '0 maiden fair, what hath thee led to ponder madness and despair to wander to ruin, and to fare from Doriath against my will, stealing like a wild thing men would kill 1335 into the emptiness outside?' 'The wisdom, father,'she replied; nor would she promise to forget, nor would she vow for love or threat her folly to forsake and meek 1340 in Doriath her father's will to seek. This only vowed she, if go she must, that none but herself would she now trust, no folk of her father's would persuade to break his will or lend her aid; '345 if go she must, she would go alone and friendless dare the walls of stone. In angry love and half in fear Thingol took counsel his most dear to guard and keep. He would not bind 1350 in caverns deep and intertwined sweet Luthien, his lovely maid, who robbed of air must wane and fade, who ever must look upon the sky and see the sun and moon go by. 1355 But close unto his mounded seat and grassy throne there ran the feet of Hirilorn, the beechen queen. Upon her triple boles were seen no break or branch, until aloft 1360 in a green glimmer, distant, soft, the mightiest vault of leaf and bough from world's beginning until now was flung above Esgalduin's shores and the long slopes to Thingol's doors. 1365 Grey was the rind of pillars tall and silken-smooth, and far and small to squirrels' eyes were those who went at her grey feet upon the bent. Now Thingol made men in the beech, 1370 in that great tree, as far as reach

156 their longest ladders, there to build an airy house; and as he willed a little dwelling of fair wood was made, and veiled in leaves it stood above the first branches. Corners three it had and windows faint to see, and by three shafts of Hirilorn

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in the corners standing was upborne. There Luthien was bidden dwell, 1380 until she was wiser and the spell of madness left her. Up she clomb the long ladders to her new home among the leaves, among the birds; she sang no song, she spoke no words. 1385 White glimmering in the tree she rose, and her little door they heard her close. The ladders were taken and no more her feet might tread Esgalduin's shore. Thither at whiles they climbed and brought 1390 all things she needed or besought; but death was his, whoso should dare a ladder leave, or creeping there should set one by the tree at night; a guard was held from dusk to light 1395 about the grey feet of Hirilorn and Luthien in prison and forlorn. There Dairon grieving often stood in sorrow for the captive of the wood, and melodies made upon his flute 1400 leaning against a grey tree-root. Luthien would from her windows stare and see him far under piping there, and she forgave his betraying word for the music and the grief she heard, 1405 and only Dairon would she let across her threshold foot to set. Yet long the hours when she must sit and see the sunbeams dance and flit in beechen leaves, or watch the stars 1410 peep on clear nights between the bars of beechen branches. And one night just ere the changing of the light a dream there came, from the Gods, maybe, or Melian's magic. She dreamed that she 1415 heard Beren's voice o'er hill and fell 'Tinuviel' call, 'Tinuviel.' And her heart answered: 'Let me be gone to seek him no others think upon! ' She woke and saw the moonlight pale through the slim leaves. It trembled frail upon her arms, as these she spread and there in longing bowed her head, and yearned for freedom and escape. Now Luthien doth her counsel shape; and Melian's daughter of deep lore knew many things, yea, magics more than then or now know elven-maids that glint and shimmer in the glades.

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157 She pondered long, while the moon sank 1430 and faded, and the starlight shrank, and the dawn opened. At last a smile on her face flickered. She mused a while, and watched the morning sunlight grow, then called to those that walked below. 1435 And when one climbed to her she prayed that he would in the dark pools wade of cold Esgalduin, water clear, the clearest water cold and sheer to draw for her. 'At middle night,' 1440 she said, 'in bowl of'silver white it must be drawn and brought to me with no word spoken, silently.' Another she begged to bring her wine in a jar of gold where flowers twine 1445 'and singing let him come to me at high noon, singing merrily.' Again she spake: 'Now go, I pray, to Melian the queen, and say: "thy daughter many a weary hour I450 slow passing watches in her bower; a spinning-wheel she begs thee send."' Then Dairon she called: 'I prithee, friend, climb up and talk to Luthien!' And sitting at her window then, 1455 she said: 'My Dairon, thou hast craft, beside thy music, many a shaft and many a tool of carven wood to fashion with cunning. It were good, if thou wouldst make a little loom 1460 to stand in the corner of my room. My idle fingers would spin and weave a pattern of colours, of morn and eve, of sun and moon and changing light amid the beech-leaves waving bright.' 1465 This Dairon did and asked her then: '0 Luthien, 0 Luthien, What wilt thou weave? What wilt thou spin? ' 'A marvellous thread, and wind therein a potent magic, and a spell 1470 I will weave within my web that hell nor all the powers of Dread shall break.' Then Dairon wondered, but he spake no word to Thingol, though his heart feared the dark purpose of her art. 1475 And Luthien now was left alone. A magic song to Men unknown she sang, and singing then the wine with water mingled three times nine; and as in golden jar they lay 1480 she sang a song of growth and day; and as they lay in silver white another song she sang, of night and darkness without end, of height uplifted to the stars, and flight 1485 and freedom. And all names of things tallest and longest on earth she sings: the locks of the Longbeard dwarves; the tail of Draugluin the werewolf pale;

158 the body of Glomund the great snake; 1490 the vast upsoaring peaks that quake above the fires in Angband's gloom; the chain Angainor that ere Doom for Morgoth shall by Gods be wrought of steel and torment. Names she sought, 1495 and sang of Glend the sword of Nan; of Gilim the giant of Eruman; and last and longest named she then the endless hair of Uinen, the Lady of the Sea, that lies 1500 through all the waters under skies. Then did she lave her head and sing a theme of sleep and slumbering, profound and fathomless and dark as Luthien's shadowy hair was dark1505 each thread was more slender and more fine than threads of twilight that entwine in filmy web the fading grass and closing flowers as day doth pass. Now long and longer grew her hair, 1510 and fell to her feet, and wandered there like pools of shadow on the ground. Then Luthien in a slumber drowned was laid upon her bed and slept, till morning through the windows crept 1515 thinly and faint. And then she woke, and the room was filled as with a smoke and with an evening mist, and deep she lay thereunder drowsed in sleep. Behold! her hair from windows blew 1520 in morning airs, and darkly grew waving about the pillars grey of Hirilorn at break of day. Then groping she found her little shears, and cut the hair about her ears, 1525 and close she cropped it to her head, enchanted tresses, thread by thread. Thereafter grew they slow once more, yet darker than their wont before. And now was her labour but begun: 1530 long was she spinning, long she spun; and though with elvish skill she wrought, long was her weaving. If men sought to call her, crying from below, 'Nothing I need,' she answered, 'go! 1535 I would keep my bed, and only sleep I now desire, who waking weep.' Then Dairon feared, and in amaze he called from under; but three days she answered not. Of cloudy hair 1540 she wove a web like misty air of moonless night, and thereof made

a robe as fluttering-dark as shade beneath great trees, a magic dress that all was drenched with drowsiness,

1545

159 enchanted with a mightier spell than Melian's raiment in that dell wherein of yore did Thingol roam beneath the dark and starry dome that hung above the dawning world. 1550 And now this robe she round her furled, and veiled her garments shimmering white; her mantle blue with jewels bright like crystal stars, the lilies gold, were wrapped and hid; and down there rolled 1555 dim dreams and faint oblivious sleep falling about her, to softly creep through all the air. Then swift she takes the threads unused; of these she makes a slender rope of twisted strands 1560 yet long and stout, and with her hands she makes it fast unto the shaft of Hirilorn. Now, all her craft and labour ended, looks she forth from her little window facing North. 1565 Already the sunlight in the trees is drooping red, and dusk she sees come softly along the ground below, and now she murmurs soft and slow. Now chanting clearer down she cast 1570 her long hair, till it reached at last from her window to the darkling ground. Men far beneath her heard the sound; but the slumbrous strand now swung and swayed above her guards. Their talking stayed, 1575 they listened to her voice and fell suddenly beneath a binding spell. Now clad as in a cloud she hung; now down her roped hair she swung as light as squirrel, and away, 1580 away, she danced, and who could say what paths she took, whose elvish feet no impress made a-dancing fleet? * NOTES. 1222 - 3. At lines 651 - 2 these lines were transposed on C. S. Lewis's suggestion (see p. 323); and heartache was emended to hunger. 1226. Cf. line 664. 1231. Original reading of B: are called in elfland. Echo fails. The change was probably simply to get rid of 'elfland'. 1249. now: uncertain (original reading doth Beren dream emended to ?now Beren dreams). 1253. Throughout this Canto elven- and elvish are emendations of elfin made on the B-text. 1260 - 1. Cf. lines 497 - 8. 1308 - 10. Marked revise on the B-text. 1312. her dark hair: so also in A. See note to line 558. 1316-17. Cf. lines 389 - 90. The Shadowy Mountains (1318) are the Mountains of Terror (Ered Gorgoroth): see pp. 170-1. 1323. This line is marked with an X on the B-text.

160 1329. As line 1323. 1358. Against Hirilorn in A is written Hiradorn, and so also at lines 1396, 1523. At line 1563 Hiradorn is the form in the text of A. 1362-3. Cf. lines 872-3. 1370. men > them A. At 1390, where B has they, A had men > they; at 1533, 1573 men was not changed in either text. 1414-17. Marked with a line on the B-text; in the margin some new verses are written, but so faint and rapid as to be quite illegible. 1488. locks B] beards A 1489. A: of Carcharas the wolf-ward pale; In the original draft the spelling is Carcaras as in the typescript version of the Tale of Tinuviel (manuscript version Karkaras). In the second version of The Children of Hurin (p. 107 line 374.) the form is Carcharoth (emended from Carcharolch) . 1490. Glomund B] Glorund A (as in the Last Tales, but there always without accent). 1493. Angainor A, B] Engainor in the original draft. 1496. Nan B] Nann A (but Nan in the original draft). 1549-50. Cf. lines 406- 7. 1563. Hirilorn B] Hiradorn A. See note to line 1358. Commentary on Canto V.

The plot-outline 'Synopsis I' covering the narrative of this Canto is very slight: Mourning of Tinuviel. Treachery of Dairon. Building of the Tree House in Hirilorn. Escape of Tinuviel. [Added in: Repentance, wandering, and loss of Dairon.] The wandering and loss of Dairon goes back to the Tale of Tinuviel (II. 20 - 1) and survived into The Silmarillion (p. 183), but there is no :- other mention of his 'repentance' (though this is perhaps implied in the : Lay, lines 1398ff.) In my commentary on the passage in the Tale of Tinuviel corresponding to this Canto I remarked (II. 54) that the story of her imprisonment in the house in Hirilorn and her escape from it never underwent any significant change. The passage in The Silmarillion (p. 172) is indeed very brief, but its lack of detail is due to compression rather than to omission based on dissatisfaction; the Lay of Leithian, from which the prose account in The Silmarillion directly derives, is in this passage so close, in point of narrative detail, to the Tale of Tinuviel as to be almost identical with it. :, There is little to add to this here. In one respect the narrative of the Lay is at variance with the story told in The Silmarillion. What was 'the curse of silence' (1207)? It was due to Dairon (848 - 53). In a preliminary, soon abandoned draft for the 'Silmarillion' version, where the story was to be told far more amply (by following the Lay more closely) the matter is : made more explicit: But Dairon haunted the trees and watched them from afar; and he cried aloud in the bitterness of his heart: 'Hateful is now become the land that I loved, and the trees misshapen. No more shall music here be heard. Let all voices fail in Doriath, and in every dale and upon every hill let the trees stand silent! ' And there was a hush and a great

161 stillness; and Thingol's folk were filled with wonder. And they spoke to their king, asking what was the reason of the silence. : Dairon's 'curse' was lifted after Beren's departure, although Luthien no :. longer sang and Dairon no longer piped. This is in contrast to ?he Silmarillion (p. 168), where after Beren went Luthien was silent, and from that hour she sang not again in Doriath. A brooding silence fell upon the woods. For the names in the 'lengthening spell' see II. 67 - 8. A new element among the 'longest things' is introduced in the version in the Lay, the peaks above Angband (1491 - 2); and in B the name of the great Dragon becomes Glomund. The chain with which Morgoth was bound, Angaino/Angainu in the Last Tales, becomes Angainor; but it is curious that in the Lay it is only spoken of as a punishment awaiting Morgoth in the future (ere Doom, 1493), whereas in the old story of The Chaining of Melko (I. 104) it was the shackle with which he was taken prisoner in the original war that led to his captivity in Valinor, and this survived in The Silmarillion (p. 51): at the end of the Elder Days 'he was bound with the chain Angainor which he had worn aforetime' (ibid. P- 252). New elements in the story that have yet to appear in the actual narrative of the Lay are seen in Draugluin, replacing in B Carcharas of A in the 'lengthening spell' (thus Carcharas is no longer the 'father of wolves', see II. 68), and in Melian's reference to Beren's lying in the dungeons of the Lord of Wolves (1246). Luthien's dream in which she heard Beren's voice far off is still ascribed, as it was in the Tale, to the Gods, if less positively (a dream there came, from the Gods, maybe, /or Melian's magic, 1414-15); see II. 19, 68. But the passage is marked in B, perhaps indicating dissatisfaction with the idea. There is curious detail in a marginal note to the B-text. At some time (as I think) long afterwards someone unknown wrote against lines 133 I-6: 'Thingol is here being rather obtuse', and against this remark my father scribbled: 'But he could not believe she loved Beren - unless some evil spell had somehow been laid on her.' VI. When Morgoth in that day of doom had slain the Trees and filled with gloom the shining land of Valinor, there Feanor and his sons then swore the mighty oath upon the hill of tower-crowned Tun, 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

1600

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162 that led to the wide echoing square. There Feanor mourned his jewels divine, the Silmarils he made. Like wine his wild and potent words them fill; a great host harkens deathly still. 1605 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 1610 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; 1615 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 1620 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 Manwe Lord of Gods. Who calls 1625 these names in witness may not break his oath, though earth and heaven shake. Curufin, Celegorm the fair, Damrod and Diriel were there, and Cranthir dark, and Maidros tall 1630 (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 1635

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 Feanor's sons, who takes or steals

1640

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 1645 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 forged steel, 1650 from a sheer precipice where reel the dizzy senses staring down from Thangorodrim's stony crown. The song of Fingon Elves yet sing, captain of armies, Gnomish king, 1655 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. 1660 Now joined once more they hemmed him in,

163 even great Morgoth, and their host beleaguered Angband, till they boast no Orc nor demon ever dare their leaguer break or past them fare. 1665 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 1670 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, 1675 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 1680 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 1685 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, 1690 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. 1695 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; 1700 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 1705 till Turin'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 1710 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 1715 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 1720

164 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 1725 of 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, 1730 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 1735 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 1740 of Felagund beside the falls of Ingwil tumbling from the wold. An everlasting watch they hold, the Gnomes of Nargothrond renowned, and every hill is tower-crowned, 1745 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 1750 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, 1755 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 1760 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 1765 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 Ginglith pens 1770 when her brief golden torrent ends and joins the Narog, there they wade. Now swiftest journey thence they made to Nargothrond's sheer terraces and dim gigantic palaces. 1775 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 1780

165 where Felagund on throne abode. Fair were the words of Narog's king to Beren, and his wandering and all his feuds and bitter wars recounted soon. Behind closed doors 1785 they sat, while Beren told his tale of Doriath; and words him fail recalling Luthien dancing fair with wild white roses in her hair, remembering her elven voice that rung 1790 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. 1795 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 Tinuviel, of Luthien, he must essay the burning waste, 1800 and doubtless death and torment taste. This Felagund in wonder heard, and heavily spake at last this word: 'It seems that Thingol doth desire thy death. The everlasting fire

1805

of those enchanted jewels all know is cursed with an oath of endless woe, and Feanor's sons alone by right are lords and masters of their light. He cannot hope within his hoard 1810 to keep this gem, nor is he lord of all the folk of Elfinesse. And yet thou saist for nothing less can thy return to Doriath be purchased? Many a dreadful path 1815 in sooth there lies before thy feet and after Morgoth, still a fleet untiring hate, as I know well, would hunt thee from heaven unto hell. Feanor's sons would, if they could, 1820 slay thee or ever thou reached his wood or laid in Thingol's lap that fire, or gained at least thy sweet desire. Lo! Celegorm and Curufin here dwell this very realm within, 1825 and even though I, Finrod's son, am king, a mighty power have won and many of their own folk lead. Friendship to me in every need they yet have shown, but much I fear 1830 that to Beren son of Barahir mercy or love they will not show if once thy dreadful quest they know.' True words he spake. For when the king to all his people told this thing, 1835 and spake of the oath to Barahir, and how that mortal shield and spear had saved them from Morgoth and from woe

166 on Northern battlefields long ago, then many were kindled in their hearts 1840 once more to battle. But up there starts amid the throng, and loudly cries for hearing, one with flaming eyes, proud Celegorm with gleaming hair and shining sword. Then all men stare 1845 upon his stern unyielding face, and a great hush falls upon that place. 'Be he friend or foe, or demon wild of Morgoth, Elf, or mortal child, or any that here on earth may dwell, 1850 no law, nor love, nor league of hell, no might of Gods, no binding spell, shall him defend from hatred fell of Feanor's sons, whoso take or steal or finding keep a Silmaril. 1855 These we alone do claim by right, our thrice enchanted jewels bright.' Many wild and potent words he spoke, and as before in Tun awoke his father's voice their hearts to fire, 1860 so now dark fear and brooding ire he cast on them, foreboding war of friend with friend; and pools of gore their minds imagined lying red in Nargothrond about the dead, 1865 did Narog's host with Beren go; or haply battle, ruin, and woe in Doriath where great Thingol reigned, if Feanor's fatal jewel he gained. And even such as were most true 1870 to Felagund his oath did rue, and thought with terror and despair of seeking Morgoth in his lair with force or guile. This Curufin when his brother ceased did then begin 1875 more to impress upon their minds; and such a spell he on them binds that never again till Turin's day would Gnome of Narog in array of open battle go to war. 1880 With secrecy, ambush, spies, and lore of wizardry, with silent leaguer of wild things wary, watchful, eager, of phantom hunters, venomed darts, and unseen stealthy creeping arts, 1885 with padding hatred that its prey with feet of velvet all the day followed remorseless out of sight and slew it unawares at night thus they defended Nargothrond, and forgot their kin and solemn bond for dread of Morgoth that the art of Curufin set within their heart. So would they not that angry day King Felagund their lord obey,

1890

1895

167 but sullen murmured that Finrod nor yet his son were as a god. Then Felagund took off his crown and at his feet he cast it down, the silver helm of Nargothrond: 1900 'Yours ye may break, but I my bond must keep, and kingdom here forsake. If hearts here were that did not quake, or that to Finrod's son were true, then I at least should find a few 1905 to go with me, not like a poor rejected beggar scorn endure, turned from my gates to leave my town, my people, and my realm and crown! ' Hearing these words there swiftly stood 1910 beside him ten tried warriors good, men of his house who had ever fought wherever his banners had been brought. One stooped and lifted up his crown, and said: '0 king, to leave this town 1915 is now our fate, but not to lose thy rightful lordship. Thou shalt choose one to be steward in thy stead.' Then Felagund upon the head of Orodreth set it: 'Brother mine, 1920 till I return this crown is thine.' Then Celegorm no more would stay, and Curufin smiled and turned away. *

NOTES. 1593 - 4. Original readings of B Glingol, Bansil, as at line 1141. 1598 - 9. Couplet marked for revision, partly on account of did start, partly on account of Gnomes. I do not record further instances of this sort, which occur casually throughout. 1619. Here is written on the B-text: 'A see the Qenta.' This is the 'Silmarillion' version of 1930, and presumably refers to the form of the Oath as it appears there. 1620. Varda the Holy is written in the margin of the B-text, which like A has Bridhil the Blessed. Bridhil occurs.earlier in A (note to lines 377 - 81), where B has a different reading. 1632-3. Cf. lines 506 - 9. 1647. Finweg A, and B as typed, early emended in B to Fingon. 1654. As line 1647. 1656. Cf. The Children of Hurin, first version line 1975, second version line 19, from which the words (referring to Finweg/Fingon) fell in flame of swords are derived; in the second version occur also the king's white banners. 1710 - 11. A: a great people were gathered of the Gnomes in these new-builded secret homes. 1736. Against the words by western winds is written (in such a way as to show that this was the point reached, not the starting-point) the date '29 Mar. 1928', the previous date being 27 - 28 March 1928 at line 1161. 1859. Tun B] Cor A 1867. A: if Felagund should with Beren go; 1891. A: and forgot their blood and kinship's bond

168 1900. 1920.

helm is an emendation in B for crown. An X is written against this line, probably long after when Orodreth was moved from his place as Felagund's brother (see p. 91). 1921. crown B] realm A Commentary on Canto VI. The plot-outline 'Synopsis I' continues thus: Beren goes to Celegorm, who disguises him [struck out: and gives him a magic knife. Beren and his Gnomish guides* are captured by Orcs: and a few survivors taken before (Melko >) Morgoth. Beren tells M. he is a 'trapper of the woods'.] (* This phrase was changed to: 'Beren gets lost and separated from his Gnomish guides'; and was then struck out with the rest of the passage.) They go and seek to break into Angband disguised as Orcs, but are captured [struck out: and set in chains, and killed one by one. Beren lies wondering which will be his turn.] by the Lord of Wolves, and set in bonds, and devoured one by one. It is interesting here to see how the relevant features of the story are treated in the 'Sketch of the Mythology' of 1926, as originally written. In this account Beren's father is Barahir, and he 'had been a friend of Celegorm of Nargothrond'. After Thingol's demand that Beren get him a Silmaril: Beren sets out to achieve this, is captured, and set in dungeon in Angband, but conceals his real identity, and is given as a slave to Thu the hunter. This passage is evidently earlier than 'Synopsis I' (at the earliest, the end of May 1926, the date of the latest of the three invoices on which it is written), since the 'Sketch' contains no reference to Celegorm's aid, Beren's companions, their disguising as Orcs, and their capture by the Lord of Wolves. On the contrary, Beren goes to Angband alone just as he did in the Tale of Tinuviel, and - most notably - is given to 'Thu the hunter' as a slave, just as in the Tale he was given to Tevildo Prince of Cats as a slave. In Synopsis I we see, I think, the very point at which the story of Beren's Gnomish companions came into being, of their disguise as Orcs, and of their deaths one by one in the dungeons of the Lord of Wolves. (Thu appears first in the fragment of the Lay of the Fall of Gondolin (p. 146), and in The Children of Hurin as Morgoth's most mighty thane: first version line 391, second version line 763). But already at lines 296ff. in the A-text of the Lay of Leithian (summer 1925) there is a reference to the 'deed of service' done by Egnor Beren's father to Celegorm, and the gift of the ring: while in the 'Sketch' Barahir 'had been a friend of Celegorm of Nargothrond'. Thus: Lay of Leithian. Egnor Beren's father performed a service for Celegorm, Canto II. from whom he received a ring. (summer 1925). Sketch of the. Barahir Beren's father was a friend of Celegorm of Mythology. Nargothrond. (early in 1926, Beren sets out alone and is captured and imprisoned see p. 3) in Angband, but is given as a slave to Thu the hunter.

169 Synopsis I. Beren goes to Celegorm who aids him (story of the (after May 1926) Gnomish companions appears). The rather surprising conclusion must be that the association of Egnor/Barahir with Celegorm and the gift of the ring preceded the emergence of the story of Beren's going to Celegorm for aid. In the rejected part of Synopsis I here we see a last survival from the

Tale of Tinuviel: Beren tells Morgoth that he is a trapper of the woods; cf. the Tale (II. 15): Beren said therewith that he was a great trapper of small animals and a snarer of birds' - and it was indeed this explanation of Beren's to Melko that got him his post in Tevildo's kitchens. The mention in this rejected passage of a magic knife given to Beren by Celegorm was clearly a passing idea to account for the knife with which Beren would cut the Silmaril from the Iron Crown, since the kitchenknife with which he did the deed in the Tale (II. 33) had been abandoned with the kitchens. Other loose papers in addition to Synopsis I show the further development of the narrative. The first of these I will refer to as 'Synposis II', it begins with the beginning of Canto VI and I cite it here as far as the end of the Canto. Beren comes to Felagund at Nargothrond; who receives him well, but warns him of the oath of the sons of Feanor, and that Curufin and Celegorm dwelling with him have great power in his realm. Curufin and Celegorm learn of Beren's purpose, and recalling their oath forbid the Gnomes to aid Beren to get the Silmaril for Thingol. The Gnomes fearing war in Nargothrond, or war against Thingol, and in [any] case despairing utterly of reaching the depths of Angband by force or guile will not support Felagund. Felagund mindful of his own oath hands his kingdom over to Orodreth, and with only his own faithful followers of his household (ten in number) goes forth with Beren. In the Lay of Leithian the 'Nargothrond Element' in the story had by this time (the spring of 1928) evolved further (see p. 171).' The major figure of (Felagoth >) Felagund, son of Finwe's third son Finrod, had emerged (see p. 91), and by Canto VI was present also in the A-text; it was he, not Celegorm, who was rescued in the battle that ended the Siege of Angband and who then went south with his brother Orodreth to found Nargothrond, and Celegorm with his brother Curufin have been shifted by the movement of the legend into the role of Felagund's overpowerful 'guests' (it is not made explicit in the Lay why they were there, though it could be guessed that they also had fled from 'the Northern battlefields'). In the passage from Synopsis II just given my father is seen working out the narrative from this point and on this narrative basis, and many of the motives that are important in the final version now appear: on account of their oath Celegorm and Curufin are the cause of the refusal of the Elves of Nargothrond to support Felagund in the aiding of Beren; Felagund gives the crown to Orodreth; and only ten of Felagund's people go with him." I think it certain that Synopsis II was written as, and did in fact provide, the outline narrative for this and the following Cantos. (* An intermediate stage is seen in a rewritten passage of the 1926 'Sketch of the Mythology', to be given in Vol. IV, where Celegorm has already been displaced by Felagoth (not yet Felagund) but where Celegorm only learns the errand of Felagoth and Beren after their departure from Nargothrond, and they leave with a large force.) In Canto VI we meet for the first time several central features of the earlier history of the Gnomes in Beleriand and the North, though these are not necessarily their first occurrences in my father's writings. Thus

170 the story of the rescue of Maidros by (Finweg >) Fingon from his torment on Thangorodrim, where he was hanged by his right hand, is almost certainly implied in The Children of Hurin, where it is said that Maidros wielded his sword with his left (see p. 86); and it is fully told in the 'Sketch' as first written early in 1926, some two years before the date of the present Canto (see note to line 1736). Here also are references to the long years of the Siege of Angband after the healing of the feud among the Gnomish princes (the cause of which we do not yet know); and to the bursting of Morgoth's armies black (cf. The Silmarillion p. 151: the black armies of the Orcs') across the Thirsty Plain (for which see p. 55). Here we meet for the first time (apart from a later note to The Children of Hurin, p. So) Angrod and Egnor, sons of Finrod and brothers of Felagund and Orodreth, who meet their deaths in the battle; and here it is said that Felagund was wounded (line 1691), and that his rescuers withdrew 'to the fen' - very probably the 'mighty fen' of Sirion referred to at line 1726. For Finweg > Fingon, and Finn (line 1660) = Finwe, see p. 137-8. The genealogy of the princes of the Gnomes as it had emerged in the 1920s is now complete: Finwe/Finn. Feanor.

Fingolfin.

Finrod.

Seven. (Finweg >). Turgon. Isfin. Felagund. Angrod. Egnor. Orodreth. sons. Fingon. The earliest version of the Feanorian Oath is found in alliterative verse in The Flight of the Noldoli (see pp. 135-6), and that in the Lay of Leithian (lines 1634 - 43) follows it quite closely despite its being in rhyming couplets, with many of the same phrases. Further variations are introduced in Celegorm's version (lines 1848 - 57). On the name Timbrenting of Taniquetil (taken in witness of the Oath) see pp. 127, 139. Most of the geographical references and names in this Canto are amply explained by Part III 'Failivrin' of The Children of Hurin. For the Hills of the-Hunters, the rivers Ginglith and Ingwil, and the Guarded Plain see pp. 88-g. It is now made clear that Umboth-Muilin, the Twilight Meres, were north of Sirion's fall and passage underground (to which there is a reference in The Children of Hurin, line 1467), whereas in the

Lost Tales the reverse was the case (see II. 217); and also that Esgalduin was a tributary of Sirion (lines 1717 - 20). In the verses describing Nargothrond the Lay of Leithian looks back to and echoes The Children of Hurin; compare Doors there darkly dim gigantic were hewn in the hillside; huge their timbers and their posts and lintels of ponderous stone (p. 68, 1828 - 30) ':- with Nargothrond's sheer terraces and dim gigantic palaces and doors there darkly hung and hewn with posts and lintels of ponderous stone

(1774-5)

171 and timbers huge.

(1777-9)

I have mentioned earlier (pp. 88, go) the drawing and watercolour of the entrance to Nargothrond. The drawing is inscribed 'Lyme 1928' (a summer holiday at Lyme Regis in Dorset) and the watercolour was very likely done at the same time: thus a few months after the writing of Canto VI of the Lay of Leithian. In both are seen the bare Hills of the Hunters beyond (with bare tops bitten bleak and raw, 1735), and in the watercolour Nargothrond's sheer terraces (1774); but neither picture suggests that the entrance was hid and veiled (1704), by trees o'ershadowed dim (1707) - a feature of the description that goes back to the Tale of Turambar ('the doors of the caves... were cunningly concealed by trees', II. 81). I noticed in my commentary on the Tale of Turambar (II. 124 and footnote) that 'the policy of secrecy and refusal of open war pursued by the Elves of Nargothrond was always an essential element', but that from The Silmarillion p. 168 'it seems that when Beren came to Nargothrond the "secret" policy was already pursued under Felagund', whereas from p. 170 'it seems that it came into being from the potent rhetoric of Curufin after Beren went there'. Prom this Canto it is seen that this contradiction, if contradiction it is, has its source in the two passages lines 1743 - 51 and 1877-93. In this latter passage there are again strong echoes of The Children of Hurin; compare a leaguer silent unseen, stealthy, beset the stranger, as of wild things wary that watch moveless, then follow fleetly with feet of velvet their heedless prey with padding hatred (p. 66, 1749 - 53)

with with silent leaguer of wild things wary, watchful, eager, of phantom hunters, venomed darts, and unseen stealthy creeping arts, with padding hatred that its prey with feet of velvet all the day followed remorseless...

(1882 - 8)

There remain a couple of points concerning names. The Great Lands are still so called (1668); but at 1616 the expression 'Outer Lands' occurs. This was used in The Cottage of Lost Play as first written in the sense of the Great Lands, but was subsequently applied to the lands beyond the Western Sea (see I. ax, 81 - 2). 'Outer Lands' = Middle-earth is frequent in The Silmarillion. The name of the river, Narog, is used, as often later, to refer to the realm of Nargothrond: the King of Nargothrond is the King of Narog (see lines 1782, 1866). VII. Thus twelve alone there ventured forth from Nargothrond, and to the North they turned their silent secret way, and vanished in the fading day. No trumpet sounds, no voice there sings, as robed in mail of cunning rings now blackened dark with helmets grey and sombre cloaks they steal away.

1925

1930

172 Far-journeying Narog's leaping course they followed till they found his source, the flickering falls, whose freshets sheer a glimmering goblet glassy-clear with crystal waters fill that shake and quiver down from Ivrin's lake, from Ivrin's mere that mirrors dim the pallid faces bare and grim of Shadowy Mountains neath the moon.

1935

1940

Now far beyond the realm immune from Orc and demon and the dread of Morgoth's might their ways had led. In woods o'ershadowed by the heights they watched and waited many nights, 1945 till on a time when hurrying cloud did moon and constellation shroud, and winds of autumn's wild beginning soughed in the boughs, and leaves went spinning down the dark eddies rustling soft,

1950

they heard a murmur hoarsely waft from far, a croaking laughter coming; now louder; now they heard the drumming of hideous stamping feet that tramp the weary earth. Then many a lamp 1955 of sullen red they saw draw near, swinging, and glistening on spear and scimitar. There hidden nigh they saw a band of Orcs go by with goblin-faces swart and foul. I 960 Bats were about them, and the owl, the ghostly forsaken night-bird cried from trees above. The voices died, the laughter like clash of stone and steel passed and faded. At their heel 1965 the Elves and Beren crept more soft than foxes stealing through a croft in search of prey. Thus to the camp lit by flickering fire and lamp they stole, and counted sitting there 1970 full thirty Orcs in the red flare of burning wood. Without a sound they one by one stood silent round, each in the shadow of a tree; each slowly, grimly, secretly 1975 bent then his bow and drew the string. Hark! how they sudden twang and sing, when Felagund lets forth a cry; and twelve Orcs sudden fall and die. Then forth they leap casting their bows. Out their bright swords, and swift their blows! The stricken Orcs now shriek and yell as lost things deep in lightless hell. Battle there is beneath the trees bitter and swift; but no Orc flees; 1985 there left their lives that wandering band and stained no more the sorrowing land

1980

173 with rape and murder. Yet no song of joy, or triumph over wrong, the Elves there sang. In peril sore 1990 they were, for never alone to war so small an Orc-band went, they knew. Swiftly the raiment off they drew and cast the corpses in a pit. This desperate counsel had the wit 1995 of Felagund for them devised: as Orcs his comrades he disguised. The poisoned spears, the bows of horn, the crooked swords their foes had borne they took; and loathing each him clad 2000 in Angband's raiment foul and sad. They smeared their hands and faces fair with pigment dark; the matted hair all lank and black from goblin head they shore, and joined it thread by thread 2005 with Gnomish skill. As each one leers at each dismayed, about his ears he hangs it noisome, shuddering. Then Felagund a spell did sing of changing and of shifting shape; 2010 their ears grew hideous, and agape their mouths did start, and like a fang each tooth became, as slow he sang. Their Gnomish raiment then they hid, and one by one behind him slid, 2015 behind a foul and goblin thing that once was elven-fair and king. Northward they went; and Orcs they met who passed, nor did their going let, but hailed them in greeting; and more bold 2020 they grew as past the long miles rolled. At length they came with weary feet beyond Beleriand. They found the fleet young waters, rippling, silver-pale

of Sirion hurrying through that vale where Taur-na-Fuin, Deadly Night, the trackless forest's pine-clad height, falls dark forbidding slowly down upon the east, while westward frown the northward-bending Mountains grey and bar the westering light of day. An isled hill there stood alone amid the valley, like a stone rolled from the distant mountains vast when giants in tumult hurtled past. Around its feet the river looped a stream divided, that had scooped the hanging edges into caves. There briefly shuddered Sirion's waves and ran to other shores more clean. An elven watchtower had it been, and strong it was, and still was fair; but now did grim with menace stare

2025

2030

2035

2040

174 one way to pale Beleriand, the other to that mournful land 2045 beyond the valley's northern mouth. Thence could be glimpsed the fields of drouth, the dusty dunes, the desert wide; and further far could be descried the brooding cloud that hangs and lowers 2050 on Thangorodrim's thunderous towers. Now in that hill was the abode of one most evil; and the road that from Beleriand thither came he watched with sleepless eyes of flame. (From the North there led no other way, save east where the Gorge of Aglon lay, and that dark path of hurrying dread which only in need the Orcs would tread through Deadly Nightshade's awful gloom where Taur-na-Fuin's branches loom; and Aglon led to Doriath, and Feanor's sons watched o'er that path.)

2055

2060

Men called him Thu, and as a god in after days beneath his rod 2065 bewildered bowed to him, and made his ghastly temples in the shade. Not yet by Men enthralled adored, now was he Morgoth's mightiest lord, Master of Wolves, whose shivering howl 2070 for ever echoed in the hills, and foul enchantments and dark sigaldry did weave and wield. In glamoury that necromancer held his hosts of phantoms and of wandering ghosts, 2075 of misbegotten or spell-wronged monsters that about him thronged, working his bidding dark and vile: the werewolves of the Wizard's Isle. From Thu their coming was not hid; 2080 and though beneath the eaves they slid of the forest's gloomy-hanging boughs, he saw them afar, and wolves did rouse: 'Go! fetch me those sneaking Orcs,' he said, 'that fare thus strangely, as if in dread, 2085 and do not come, as all Orcs use and are commanded, to bring me news of all their deeds, to me, to Thu.' From his tower he gazed, and in him grew suspicion and a brooding thought, 2090 waiting, leering, till they were brought. Now ringed about with wolves they stand, and fear their doom. Alas! the land, the land of Narog left behind! Foreboding evil weights their mind, 2095 as downcast, halting, they must go and cross the stony bridge of woe to Wizard's Isle, and to the throne there fashioned of blood-darkened stone.

175 'Where have ye been? What have ye seen? ' 2100 'In Elfinesse; and tears and distress, the fire blowing and the blood flowing, these have we seen, there have we been. Thirty we slew and their bodies threw in a dark pit. The ravens sit 2105 and the owl cries where our swath lies.' 'Come, tell me true, 0 Morgoth's thralls, what then in Elfinesse befalls? What of Nargothrond? Who reigneth there? Into that realm did your feet dare?' 2110 'Only its borders did we dare. There reigns King Felagund the fair.' 'Then heard ye not that he is gone, that Celegorm sits his throne upon?' 'That is not true! If he is gone, 2115 then Orodreth sits his throne upon.' 'Sharp are your ears, swift have they got tidings of realms ye entered not! What are your names, 0 spearmen bold? Who your captain, ye have not told.' 2120 'Nereb and Dungalef and warriors ten, so we are called, and dark our den under the mountains. Over the waste we march on an errand of need and haste. Boldog the captain awaits us there 2125 where fires from under smoke and flare.' 'Boldog, I heard, was lately slain warring on the borders of that domain where Robber Thingol and outlaw folk cringe and crawl beneath elm and oak 2130 in drear Doriath. Heard ye not then of that pretty fay, of Luthien? Her body is fair, very white and fair. Morgoth would possess her in his lair. Boldog he sent, but Boldog was slain: 2135 strange ye were not in Boldog's train. Nereb looks fierce, his frown is grim. Little Luthien! What troubles him? Why laughs he not to think of his lord crushing a maiden in his hoard, 2140 that foul should be what once was clean, that dark should be where light has been? Whom do ye serve, Light or Mirk? Who is the maker of mightiest work? Who is the king of earthly kings, the greatest giver of gold and rings? Who is the master of the wide earth? Who despoiled them of their mirth, the greedy Gods? Repeat your vows, Orcs of Bauglir! Do not bend your brows! 2150 Death to light, to law, to love!

176 Cursed be moon and stars above! May darkness everlasting old that waits outside in surges cold drown Manwe, Varda, and the sun! May all in hatred be begun, and all in evil ended be, in the moaning of the endless Sea! ' But no true Man nor Elf yet free would ever speak that blasphemy, and Beren muttered: 'Who is Thu to hinder work that is to do? Him we serve not, nor to him owe obeisance, and we now would go.'

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Thu laughed: 'Patience! Not very long 2165 shall ye abide. But first a song I will sing to you, to ears intent.' Then his flaming eyes he on them bent, and darkness black fell round them all. Only they saw as through a pall 2170 of eddying smoke those eyes profound in which their senses choked and drowned. He chanted a song of wizardry, of piercing, opening, of treachery, revealing, uncovering, betraying. 2175 Then sudden Felagund there swaying sang in answer a song of staying, resisting, battling against power, of secrets kept, strength like a tower, and trust unbroken, freedom, escape; 2180 of changing and of shifting shape, of snares eluded, broken traps, the prison opening, the chain that snaps.

Backwards and forwards swayed their song. Reeling and foundering, as ever more strong Thu's chanting swelled, Felagund fought, and all the magic and might he brought of Elfinesse into his words. Softly in the gloom they heard the birds singing afar in Nargothrond, 2190 the sighing of the sea beyond, beyond the western world, on sand, on sand of pearls in Elvenland.

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Then the gloom gathered: darkness growing in Valinor, the red blood flowing 2195 beside the sea, where the Gnomes slew the Foamriders, and stealing drew their white ships with their white sails from lamplit havens. The wind wails. The wolf howls. The ravens flee. 2200 The ice mutters in the mouths of the sea. The captives sad in Angband mourn. Thunder rumbles, the fires burn, a vast smoke gushes out, a roar and Felagund swoons upon the floor. 2205 Behold! they are in their own fair shape,

177 fairskinned, brighteyed. No longer gape Orclike their mouths; and now they stand betrayed into the wizard's hand. Thus came they unhappy into woe, to dungeons no hope nor glimmer know, where chained in chains that eat the flesh and woven in webs of strangling mesh they lay forgotten, in despair.

2210

Yet not all unavailing were 2215 the spells of Felagund; for Thu neither their names nor purpose knew. These much he pondered and bethought, and in their woeful chains them sought, and threatened all with dreadful death, 2220 if one would not with traitor's breath reveal this knowledge. Wolves should come and slow devour them one by one before the others' eyes, and last should one alone be left aghast, then in a place of horror hung with anguish should his limbs be wrung, in the bowels of the earth be slow endlessly, cruelly, put to woe and torment, till he all declared. Even as he threatened, so it fared. From time to time in the eyeless dark two eyes would grow, and they would hark to frightful cries, and then a sound of rending, a slavering on the ground, and blood flowing they would smell. But none would yield, and none would tell.

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NOTES. 1943. Against the end of this line is written the date 'March 30 1928'. The previous date was 29 March 1928 at line 1736. 2023. (and subsequently) Broseliand A, and B as typed. 2026. Deadly Night] Tangled Night A, and B as typed. Cf. Deadly Nightshade as a name of Taur-na-Fuin in The Children of Hurin (p. 55) and at line 2060 in the present Canto. 2047. fields of drouth: the expression Plains of Drouth occurs in The Children of Hurin, p. 36, line 826. 2056-63. These lines are marked with an X and a sign for deletion in the B-text, probably not on account of anything in their content but because my father felt them to be intrusive. 2064-6. Emended in B to: Gnomes called him Gorthu, as a god in after days beneath his rod bewildered they bowed to him, and made (Sauron was first substituted for Thu! Men is written beside they in line 2066.) Thu > Corthu at all subsequent occurrences in this Canto, or the name avoided by substitution of pronoun or article; thus 2088 of all their deeds to me, Corthu; 2161 - 2 Doth Corthu/now hinder work; 2165 He laughed; 2186 the chanting; etc.

178 This change is difficult to date, hut was made when Gnomes was still employed (2064). In Canto VIII Thu was left unchanged, and subsequently, until 3290, which was emended to where Corthu reigned; at the end of the poem (3947, 3951) Thu was changed to Sauron. 2100 - 6. On the changed metre of these lines see the Commentary. 2114. After this line is written the date 'March 31st' (i.e. 1928). The previous date was 30 March 1928 at line 1943. 2121. Nereb and Dungalef: emended in B to Wrath and Hate, at the same time as Thu > Gorthu. 2137. Nereb looks fierce: emended in B to Fierce is your chief. 2155. Bridhil A, and B as typed; the change to Varda made at the same time as Thu to Gorthu. Cf. note to line 1620. 2175-7. The three rhyming lines go back through A to the original draft. 2193. Elvenland is an emendation to B Fairyland. Commentary on Canto VII. The plot-outline 'Synopsis I' for the narrative in this Canto has already been given (pp. 219-20). 'Synopsis II' continues from the point reached on p. 221. They ambush an Orc-band, and disguising themselves in the raiment and fashion of the slain, march on Northward. Between the Shadowy Mountains and the Forest of Night, where the young Sirion flows in the narrowing valley, they come upon the werewolves, and the host of Thu Lord of Wolves. They are taken before Thu, andaftcr a contest of riddling questions and answers are revealed as spies, but Beren is taken as a Gnome, and that Felagund is King of Nargothrond remains hidden. They are placed in a deep dungeon. Thu desires to discover their purpose and real names and vows death, one by one, and torment to the last one, if they will not reveal them. From time to time a great werewolf [struck through: Thu in disguise] comes and devours one of the companions. This is obviously the narrative basis for Canto VII, and the story here reaches its final form. There may seem to be a difference between the outline and the Lay, in that the former says that 'after a contest of riddling questions and answers they are revealed as spies', whereas in the latter Felagund is overcome by song of greater power. In fact, the riddling contest is present, but seems not to have been fully developed. In the original draft my father scribbled the following note before he wrote the passage lines 2100 ff.: Riddling questions. Where have you been, who have you slain? Thirty men. Who reigns in Nargothrond? Who is captain of Orcs? Who wrought the world? Who is king &c. They show Elfin [?bias] and too little knowledge of Angband, too much of Elfland. Thu and Felagund ..... enchantments against one another and Thu's slowly win, till they stand revealed as Elves. Lines 2100 - 6 are in a changed metre, especially suitable to a riddle contest, and their content (the reply to Thu's question 'Where have ye been? What have ye seen?') is riddling ('misleading accuracy'). But after this the verse returns to the common metre, and the riddling element disappears (except in dark our den/under the mountains). The name Dungalef (2121), though it sounds Orcish enough, was an oddly transparent device, since Felagund had just been mentioned; but it succeeded (2217). No doubt Thu's ponderings on the matter were too subtle. This is the first full portrait of Thu, who emerges as a being of great

179 power, far advanced in sorcery, and is indeed here called 'necromancer' (2074). Here also is the first suggestion that his history would extend far beyond the tale of Beren and Luthien, when 'in after days' Men would worship him, and build 'his ghastly temples in the shade'. It is in this Canto, also, that the island in the river Sirion (not actually mentioned in Synopsis II) makes its first appearance, together with a mention of the origin of the fortress: An elven watchtower had it been, and strong it was, and still was fair. (2041-2) My father's drawing (Pictures by J. R. R. Tolkien, no. 36) was made at Lyme Regis in Dorset in July 1928, less than four months after these lines were written; and in the drawing the caves scooped by the waters in the edges of the island (lines 2037-8) can be seen. The Shadowy Mountains referred to in Synopsis II and in the poem are no longer the Mountains of Terror (Ered Gorgoroth), as they were at lines 386, 1318 (see pp. 170 - z). In Synopsis II it is said that the young Sirion flows in the narrowing valley between the Shadowy Mountains and the Forest of Night (Taur-na-Fuin), and in the poem Ivrin's lake mirrors the pallid faces bare and grim of Shadowy Mountains neath the moon (1939 - 40) as in The Children of Hurin (p. 62, lines 1581-z). Thus the term now reverts to its meaning in the alliterative poem, a meaning that it would henceforward retain. It is also to be noted that this mountain-range is 'northward-bending' (2030). The lines concerning Ivrin in The Children of Hurin (1594 - 7): newborn Narog, nineteen fathoms o'er a flickering force falls in wonder, and a glimmering goblet with glass-lucent fountains fills he by his freshets carven are echoed in The Lay of Leithian (1934 - 6): the flickering falls, whose freshets sheer a glimmering goblet glassy-clear with crystal waters fill... A new feature of the northern lands appears in this Canto: the Gorge of Aglon (2057), already placed (as other evidence shows) at the eastern end of Taur-na-Fuin; and line 2063 gives the first indication that this region was the territory of the Feanorians. The raid of the Orc-captain Boldog into Doriath, seeking to capture Luthien for Morgoth, was an important element in the history of this time, though later it disappeared and there is no trace of it in The Silmarillion. Discussion of it is postponed till later in the Lay of Leithian, but it may be noticed here that an early reference to it is found in The Children of Hurin (p. 16 lines 392 - 4, p. 117 lines 764-6). There it was Thu himself who was bidden by Morgoth go ravage the realm of the robber Thingol. The term Foamriders, used of the Third Kindred of the Elves in line 2197, is found earlier in the alliterative Flight of the Noldoli (see p.140).

180 VIII. Hounds there were in Valinor with silver collars. Hart and boar, the fox and hare and nimble roe there in the forests green did go. Orome was the lord divine of all those woods. The potent wine went in his halls and hunting song. The Gnomes anew have named him long Tavros, the God whose horns did blow over the mountains long ago; who alone of Gods had loved the world before the banners were unfurled of Moon and Sun; and shod with gold were his great horses. Hounds untold baying in woods beyond the West of race immortal he possessed: grey and limber, black and strong, white with silken coats and long, 2255 brown and brindled, swift and true as arrow from a bow of yew; their voices like the deeptoned bells that ring in Valmar's citadels, their eyes like living jewels, their teeth 2260 like ruel-bone. As sword from sheath they flashed and fled from leash to scent for Tavros' joy and merriment. In Tavros' friths and pastures green had Huan once a young whelp been. 2265 He grew the swiftest of the swift, and Orome gave him as a gift to Celegorm, who loved to follow the great God's horn o'er hill and hollow. Alone of hounds of the Land of Light, 2270 when sons of Feanor took to flight and came into the North, he stayed beside his master. Every raid and every foray wild he shared, and into mortal battle dared. 2275 Often he saved his Gnomish lord from Orc and wolf and leaping sword. A wolf-hound, tireless, grey and fierce he grew; his gleaming eyes would pierce all shadows and all mist, the scent 2280 moons old he found through fen and bent, through rustling leaves and dusty sand; all paths of wide Beleriand he knew. But wolves, he loved them best; he loved to find their throats and wrest 2285 their snarling lives and evil breath. The packs of Thu him feared as Death. No wizardry, nor spell, nor dart, no fang, nor venom devil's art could brew had harmed him; for his weird 2290 was woven. Yet he little feared that fate decreed and known to all: before the mightiest he should fall,

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before the mightiest wolf alone that ever was whelped in cave of stone.

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Hark! afar in Nargothrond, far over Sirion and beyond, there are dim cries and horns blowing, and barking hounds through the trees going. The hunt is up, the woods are stirred. 2300 Who rides to-day? Ye have not heard that Celegorm and Curufin have loosed their dogs? With merry din they mounted ere the sun arose, and took their spears and took their bows. 2305 The wolves of Thu of late have dared both far and wide. Their eyes have glared by night across the roaring stream of Narog. Doth their master dream, perchance, of plots and counsels deep, 2310 of secrets that the Elf-lords keep, of movements in the Gnomish realm and errands under beech and elm? Curufin spake: 'Good brother mine, I like it not. What dark design 2315 doth this portend? These evil things, we swift must end their wanderings! And more, 'twould please my heart full well to hunt a while and wolves to fell.' And then he leaned and whispered low 2320 that Orodreth was a dullard slow; long time it was since the king had gone, and rumour or tidings came there none. 'At least thy profit it would be to know whether dead he is or free; 2325 to gather thy men and thy array. "I go to hunt" then thou wilt say, and men will think that Narog's good ever thou heedest. But in the wood things may be learned; and if by grace, 2330 by some blind fortune he retrace his footsteps mad, and if he bear a Silmaril - I need declare no more in words; but one by right is thine (and ours), the jewel of light; 2335 another may be won - a throne. The eldest blood our house doth own.' Celegorm listened. Nought he said, but forth a mighty host he led; and Huan leaped at the glad sounds, the chief and captain of his hounds. Three days they ride by holt and hill the wolves of Thu to hunt and kill, and many a head and fell of grey they take, and many drive away, till nigh to the borders in the West of Doriath a while they rest.

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There were dim cries and horns blowing, and barking dogs through the woods going.

182 The hunt was up. The woods were stirred, 2350 and one there fled like startled bird, and fear was in her dancing feet. She knew not who the woods did beat. Far from her home, forwandered, pale, she flitted ghostlike through the vale; 2355 ever her heart bade her up and on, but her limbs were worn, her eyes were wan. The eyes of Huan saw a shade wavering, darting down a glade like a mist of evening snared by day 2360 and hasting fearfully away. He bayed, and sprang with sinewy limb to chase the shy thing strange and dim. On terror's wings, like a butterfly pursued by a sweeping bird on high, 2365 she fluttered hither, darted there, now poised, now flying through the air in vain. At last against a tree she leaned and panted. Up leaped he. No word of magic gasped with woe, 2370 no elvish mystery she did know or had entwined in raiment dark availed against that hunter stark, whose old immortal race and kind no spells could ever turn or bind. 2375

Huan alone that she ever met she never in enchantment set nor bound with spells. But loveliness and gentle voice and pale distress and eyes like starlight dimmed with tears 2380 tamed him that death nor monster fears. Lightly he lifted her, light he bore his trembling burden. Never before had Celegorm beheld such prey: 'What hast thou brought, good Huan say! Dark-elvish maid, or wraith, or fay? Not such to hunt we came today.'

2385

"Tis Luthien of Doriath,' the maiden spake. 'A wandering path far from the Wood-'Elves' sunny glades 2390 she sadly winds, where courage fades and hope grows faint.' And as she spoke down she let slip her shadowy cloak, and there she stood in silver and white. Her starry jewels twinkled bright 2395 in the risen sun like morning dew; the lilies gold on mantle blue gleamed and glistened. Who could gaze on that fair face without amaze? Long did Curufin look and stare. 2400 The perfume of her flower-twined hair, her lissom limbs, her elvish face, smote to his heart, and in that place enchained he stood. '0 maiden royal, 0 lady fair, wherefore in toil 2405 and lonely journey dost thou go?

183 What tidings dread of war and woe In Doriath have betid? Come tell! For fortune thee hath guided well; friends thou hast found,' said Celegorm, and gazed upon her elvish form.

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