The Lays of Beleriand. Christopher Tolkien

the Elves and their kindred; how only treasoncould master the magic whose mazes wrappedthe children of Corthûn, and cheated his purpose.50

‘Is it dauntless Hurin,’ quoth Delu-Morgoth,
‘stout steel-handed, who stands before me,
a captive living as a coward might be?
Knowest thou my name, or need’st be told
what hope he has who is haled to Angband –	55
the bale most bitter, the Balrogs’ torment?’

‘I know and I hate. For that knowledge I fought thee
by fear unfettered, nor fear I now,’
said Thalion there, and a thane of Morgoth
on the mouth smote him; but Morgoth smiled:	60
‘Fear when thou feelest, and the flames lick thee,
and the whips of the Balrogs thy white flesh brand.
Yet a way canst win, an thou wishest, still
to lessen thy lot of lingering woe.
Go question the captives of the accursed people	65
I have taken, and tell me where Turgon is hid;
how with fire and death I may find him soon,
where he lurketh lost in lands forgot.
Thou must feign thee a friend faithful in anguish,
and their inmost hearts thus open and search.	70
Then, if truth thou tellest, thy triple bonds
I will bid men unbind, that abroad thou fare
in my service to search the secret places
following the footsteps of these foes of the Gods.’

‘Build not thy hopes so high, O Bauglir –	75
I am no tool for thy evil treasons;
torment were sweeter than a traitor’s stain.’

‘If torment be sweet, treasure is liever.
The hoards of a hundred hundred ages,
the gems and jewels of the jealous Gods,	80
are mine, and a meed shall I mete thee thence,
yea, wealth to glut the Worm of Greed.’

‘Canst not learn of thy lore when thou look’st on a foe,
O Bauglir unblest? Bray no longer
of the things thou hast thieved from the Three Kindreds.	85
In hate I hold thee, and thy hests in scorn.’

‘Boldly thou bravest me. Be thy boast rewarded,’
in mirth quod Morgoth, ‘to me now the deeds,
and thy aid I ask not; but anger thee nought
if little they like thee. Yea, look thereon	90
helpless to hinder, or thy hand to raise.’

Then Thalion was thrust to Thangorodrim,
that mountain that meets the misty skies
on high o’er the hills that Hithlum sees
blackly brooding on the borders of the north.	95
To a stool of stone on its steepest peak
they bound him in bonds, an unbreakable chain,
and the Lord of Woe there laughing stood,
then cursed him for ever and his kin and seed
with a doom of dread, of death and horror.	100
There the mighty man unmovéd sat;
but unveiled was his vision, that he viewed afar
all earthly things with eyes enchanted
that fell on his folk – a fiend’s torment.

I

       TÚRIN’S FOSTERING

Lo! the lady Morwin in the Land of Shadows	105
waited in the woodland for her well-beloved;
but he came never from the combat home.
No tidings told her whether taken or dead,
or lost in flight he lingered yet.
Laid waste his lands, and his lieges slain,	110
and men unmindful of his mighty lordship
dwelt in Dorlómin and dealt unkindly
with his widowed wife; and she went with child,
who a son must succour now sadly orphaned,
Túrin Thaliodrin of tender years.	115
Then in days of blackness was her daughter born,
and was naméd Nienor, a name of tears
that in language of eld is Lamentation.
Then her thoughts turnéd to Thingol the Elf-king,
and the dancer of Doriath, his daughter Tinúviel,	120
whom the boldest of the brave, Beren Ermabwed,
had won to wife. He once had known
firmest friendship to his fellow in arms,
Thalion Erithámrod – so thought she now,
and said to her son, ‘My sweetest child,	125
our friends are few, and thy father comes not.
Thou must fare afar to the folk of the wood,
where Thingol is throned in the Thousand Caves.
If he remember Morwin and thy mighty sire
he will fain foster thee, and feats of arms	130
he will teach thee, the trade of targe and sword,
and Thalion’s son no thrall shall be –
but remember thy mother when thy manhood nears.’

Heavy boded the heart of Húrin’s son,
yet he weened her words were wild with grief,	135
and he denied her not, for no need him seemed.
Lo! henchmen had Morwin, Halog and Gumlin,
who were young of yore ere the youth of Thalion,
who alone of the lieges of that lord of Men
steadfast in service staid beside her:	140
now she bade them brave the black mountains,
and the woods whose ways wander to evil;
though Túrin be tender and to travail unused,
they must gird them and go; but glad they were not,
and Morwin mourned when men saw not.	145

Came a summer day when sun filtered
warm through the woodland’s waving branches.
Then Morwin stood her mourning hiding
by the gate of her garth in a glade of the woods.
At the breast she mothered her babe unweaned,	150
and the doorpost held lest she droop for anguish.
There Gumlin guided her gallant boy,
and a heavy burden was borne by Halog;
but the heart of Túrin was heavy as stone
uncomprehending its coming anguish.	155
He sought for comfort, with courage saying:
‘Quickly will I come from the courts of Thingol;
long ere manhood I will lead to Morwin
great tale of treasure, and true comrades’ –
for he wist not the weird woven by Bauglir,	160
nor the sundering sorrow that swept between.
The farewells are taken: their footsteps are turned
to the dark forest: the dwelling fadeth
in the tangled trees. Then in Túrin leapt
his awakened heart, and he wept blindly,	165
calling ‘I cannot, I cannot leave thee.
O Morwin, my mother, why makest me go?
Hateful are the hills where hope is lost.
O Morwin, my mother, I am meshed in tears.
Grim are the hills, and my home is gone.’	170
And there came his cries calling faintly
down the dark alleys of the dreary trees,
and one who wept weary on the threshold
heard how the hills said ‘my home is gone.’

The ways were weary and woven with deceit	175
o’er the hills of Hithlum to the hidden kingdom
deep in the darkness of Doriath’s forest;
and never ere now for need or wonder
had children of Men chosen that pathway,
and few of the folk have followed it since.	180
There Túrin and the twain knew torment of thirst,
and hunger and fear and hideous nights,
for wolfriders and wandering Orcs
and the Things