in mountains old and wastes alone
still dwell. But now nor Elf nor Man,
290none save the child of Melian, remembers him who Morgoth fought
and never to thraldom base was brought.’
Nought said Huan; but Curufin
thereafter never near might win
295to Lúthien, nor touch that maid, but shrank from Huan’s fangs afraid.
Then on a night when autumn damp
was swathed about the glimmering lamp
of the wan moon, and fitful stars
300were flying seen between the bars of racing cloud, when winter’s horn
already wound in trees forlorn,
lo! Huan was gone. Then Lúthien lay,
fearing new wrong, till just ere day,
305when all is dead and breathless still and shapeless fears the sleepless fill, a shadow came along the wall.
Then something let there softly fall
her magic cloak beside her couch.
310Trembling she saw the great hound crouch beside her, heard a deep voice swell
as from a tower a far slow bell.
Thus Huan spake, who never before
had uttered words, and but twice more
315did speak in elven tongue again: ‘Lady beloved, whom all Men,
whom Elfinesse, and whom all things
with fur and fell and feathered wings
should serve and love—arise! away!
320Put on thy cloak! Before the day comes over Nargothrond we fly
to Northern perils, thou and I.’
And ere he ceased he counsel wrought
for achievement of the thing they sought.
325There Lúthien listened in amaze, and softly on Huan did she gaze.
Her arms about his neck she cast—
in friendship that to death should last.
******
In Wizard’s Isle still lay forgot
330enmeshed and tortured in that grot cold, evil, doorless, without light,
and blank-eyed stared at endless night two comrades. Now alone they were.
The others lived no more, but bare
335their broken bones would lie and tell how ten had served their master well.
To Felagund then Beren said:
‘’Twere little loss if I were dead,
and I am minded all to tell,
340and thus, perchance, from this dark hell thy life to loose. I set thee free
from thine old oath, for more for me
hast thou endured than e’er was earned.’
‘A! Beren, Beren hast not learned
345that promises of Morgoth’s folk are frail as breath. From this dark yoke of pain shall neither ever go,
whether he learn our names or no,
with Th?’s consent. Nay more, I think
350yet deeper of torment we should drink, knew he that son of Barahir
and Felagund were captive here,
and even worse if he should know
the dreadful errand we did go.’
355A devil’s laugh they ringing heard within their pit. ‘True, true the word I hear you speak,’ a voice then said.
‘’Twere little loss if he were dead,
the outlaw mortal. But the king,
360the Elf undying, many a thing no man could suffer may endure.
Perchance, when what these walls immure of dreadful anguish thy folk learn,
their king to ransom they will yearn
365with gold and gem and high hearts cowed; or maybe Celegorm the proud
will deem a rival’s prison cheap,
and crown and gold himself will keep.
Perchance, the errand I shall know,
370ere all is done, that ye did go.
The wolf is hungry, the hour is nigh;
no more need Beren wait to die.’
The slow time passed. Then in the gloom
two eyes there glowed. He saw his doom, 375Beren, silent, as his bonds he strained beyond his mortal might enchained.
Lo! sudden there was rending sound
of chains that parted and unwound,
of meshes broken. Forth there leaped
380upon the wolvish thing that crept in shadow faithful Felagund,
careless of fang or mortal wound.
There in the dark they wrestled slow,
remorseless, snarling, to and fro,
385teeth in flesh, gripe on throat, fingers locked in shaggy coat,
spurning Beren who there lying
heard the werewolf gasping, dying.
Then a voice he heard: ‘Farewell!
390On earth I need no longer dwell, friend and comrade, Beren bold.
My heart is burst, my limbs are cold.
Here all my power I have spent
to break my bonds, and dreadful rent
395of poisoned teeth is in my breast.
I now must go to my long rest
neath Timbrenting in timeless halls
where drink the Gods, where the light falls upon the shining sea.’ Thus died the king, 400as elvish harpers yet do sing.
There Beren lies. His grief no tear,
his despair no horror has nor fear,
waiting for footsteps, a voice, for doom.
Silences profounder than the tomb
405of long-forgotten kings, neath years and sands uncounted laid on biers
and buried everlasting-deep,
slow and unbroken round him creep.
The silences were sudden shivered
410to silver fragments. Faint there quivered a voice in song that walls of rock,
enchanted hill, and bar and lock,
and powers of darkness pierced with light.
He felt about him the soft night
415of many stars, and in the air were rustlings and a perfume rare;
the nightingales were in the trees,
slim fingers flute and viol seize
beneath the moon, and one more fair
420than all there be or ever were upon a lonely knoll of stone
in shimmering raiment danced alone.
Then in his dream it seemed he sang,
and loud and fierce his chanting rang, 425old songs of battle in the North, of breathless deeds, of marching forth to dare uncounted odds and break
great powers, and towers, and strong walls shake; and over all the silver fire
430that once Men named the Burning Briar, the Seven Stars that Varda set
about the North, were burning yet,
a light in darkness, hope in woe,
the emblem vast of Morgoth’s foe.
435‘Huan, Huan! I hear a song far under welling, far but strong
a song that Beren bore aloft.
I hear his voice, I have heard it oft
in dream and wandering.’ Whispering low 440thus Lúthien spake. On the bridge of woe in mantle wrapped at dead of night
she sat and sang, and to its height
and to its depth the Wizard’s Isle,
rock upon rock and pile on pile,
445trembling echoed. The werewolves howled, and Huan hidden lay and growled
watchful listening in the dark,
waiting for battle cruel and stark.
Th? heard that voice, and sudden stood
450wrapped in his cloak and sable hood in his high tower. He listened long,
and smiled, and knew that elvish song.
‘A! little Lúthien! What brought
the foolish fly to web unsought?
455Morgoth! a great and rich reward to me thou wilt owe when to thy hoard
this jewel is added.’ Down he went,
and forth his messengers he sent.
Still Lúthien sang. A creeping shape
460with bloodred tongue and jaws agape stole on the bridge; but she sang on
with trembling limbs and wide eyes wan.
The creeping shape leaped to her side, and gasped, and sudden fell and died.
465And still they came, still one by one, and each was seized, and there were none returned with padding feet to tell
that a shadow lurketh fierce and fell
at the bridge’s end, and that below
470the shuddering waters loathing flow o’er the grey corpses Huan killed.
A mightier shadow slowly filled