bitter and swift, but no Orc flees;
there left their lives that wandering band 310and stained no more the sorrowing land with rape and murder. Yet no song
of joy, or triumph over wrong,
the Elves there sang. In peril sore
they were, for never alone to war
315so 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
of Felagund for them devised:
320as 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
in Angband’s raiment foul and sad.
325They 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 with Gnomish skill. As each one leers
330at each dismayed, about his ears he hangs it noisome, shuddering.
Then Felagund a spell did sing
of changing and of shifting shape;
their ears grew hideous, and agape
335their 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,
behind a foul and goblin thing
340that 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 they grew as past the long miles rolled.
345At 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,
350the 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.
355An isléd hill there stood alone amid the valley, like a stone
rolled from the mountains vast
when giants in tumult hurtled past.
Around its feet the river looped
360a 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,
365and strong it was, and still was fair; but now did grim with menace stare
one way to pale Beleriand,
the other to that mournful land
beyond the valley’s northern mouth.
370Thence 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 on Thangorodrim’s thunderous towers.
375Now 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.
Men called him Th?, and as a god
380in after days beneath his rod 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,
385Master of Wolves, whose shivering howl for ever echoed in the hills, and foul
enchantments and dark sigaldry
did weave and wield. In glamoury
that necromancer held his hosts
390of phantoms and of wandering ghosts, of misbegotten or spell-wronged
monsters that about him thronged,
working his bidding dark and vile:
the werewolves of the Wizard’s Isle.
395From Th? their coming was not hid 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, 400‘that fare thus strangely, as if in dread, and do not come, as all Orcs use
and are commanded, to bring me news
of all their deeds, to me, to Th?.’
From his tower he gazed, and in him grew
405suspicion and a brooding thought, 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!
410Foreboding evil weights their mind, 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.
415‘Where have ye been? What have ye seen?’
‘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
420in a dark pit. The ravens sit and the owl cries where our swath lies.’
‘Come, tell me true, O Morgoth’s thralls,
what then in Elfinesse befalls?
What of Nargothrond? Who reigneth there?
425Into that realm did your feet dare?’
‘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?’
430‘That is not true! If he is gone, then Orodreth sits his throne upon.’
‘Sharp are your ears, swift have they got
tidings of realms ye entered not!
What are your names, O spearmen bold?
435Who your captain, ye have not told.’
‘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.
440Boldog the captain awaits us there 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
445cringe and crawl beneath elm and oak in drear Doriath. Heard ye not then
of that pretty fay, of Lúthien?
Her body is fair, very white and fair.
Morgoth would possess her in his lair.
450Boldog he sent, but Boldog was slain: strange ye were not in Boldog’s train.
Nereb looks fierce, his frown is grim.
Little Lúthien! What troubles him?
Why laughs he not to think of his lord
455crushing a maiden in his hoard, 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?
460Who 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,
465Orcs of Bauglir! Do not bend your brows!
Death to light, to law, to love!
Cursed be moon and stars above!
May darkness everlasting old
that waits outside in surges cold
470drown Manw?, 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
475would ever speak that blasphemy, and Beren muttered: ‘Who is Th?
to hinder work that is to do?
Him we serve not, nor to him owe
obeisance, and we now would go.’
480Th? laughed: ‘Patience! Not very long 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.
485Only they saw as through a pall of eddying smoke those eyes profound
in which their senses choked and drowned.
He chanted a song of wizardry,
of piercing, opening, of treachery,