of faith that on his tongue was laid;
100until at last a pause was made, and one came softly to his stake,
a darkling form that stooped, and spake to him of Eilinel his wife.
‘Wouldst thou,’ he said, ‘forsake thy life,
105who with few words might win release for her, and thee, and go in peace,
and dwell together far from war,
friends of the King? What wouldst thou more?’
And Gorlim, now long worn with pain,
110yearning to see his wife again (whom well he weened was also caught
in Sauron’s net), allowed the thought
to grow, and faltered in his troth.
Then straight, half willing and half loath, 115they brought him to the seat of stone where Sauron sat. He stood alone
before that dark and dreadful face,
and Sauron said: ‘Come, mortal base!
What do I hear? That thou wouldst dare
120to barter with me? Well, speak fair!
What is thy price?’ And Gorlim low
bowed down his head, and with great woe, word on slow word, at last implored
that merciless and faithless lord
125that he might free depart, and might again find Eilinel the white,
and dwell with her, and cease from war
against the King. He craved no more.
Then Sauron smiled, and said: ‘Thou thrall!
130The price thou askest is but small for treachery and shame so great!
I grant it surely! Well, I wait:
Come! Speak now swiftly and speak true!’
Then Gorlim wavered, and he drew
135half back; but Sauron’s daunting eye there held him, and he dared not lie:
as he began, so must he wend
from first false step to faithless end: he all must answer as he could,
140betray his lord and brotherhood, and cease, and fall upon his face.
Then Sauron laughed aloud. ‘Thou base,
thou cringing worm! Stand up,
and hear me! And now drink the cup
145that I have sweetly blent for thee!
Thou fool: a phantom thou didst see
that I, I Sauron, made to snare
thy lovesick wits. Naught else was there.
Cold ’tis with Sauron’s wraiths to wed!
150Thy Eilinel! She is long since dead, dead, food of worms less low than thou.
And yet thy boon I grant thee now:
to Eilinel thou soon shalt go,
and lie in her bed, no more to know
155of war—or manhood. Have thy pay!’
And Gorlim then they dragged away,
and cruelly slew him; and at last
in the dank mould his body cast,
where Eilinel long since had lain
160in the burned woods by butchers slain.
Thus Gorlim died an evil death,
and cursed himself with dying breath,
and Barahir at last was caught
in Morgoth’s snare; for set at naught
165by treason was the ancient grace that guarded long that lonely place,
Tarn Aeluin: now all laid bare
were secret paths and hidden lair.
OF BEREN SON OF BARAHIR & HIS ESCAPE
Dark from the North now blew the cloud; 170the winds of autumn cold and loud hissed in the heather; sad and grey
Aeluin’s mournful water lay.
‘Son Beren’, then said Barahir,
‘Thou knowst the rumour that we hear
175of strength from the Gaurhoth that is sent against us; and our food nigh spent.
On thee the lot falls by our law
to go forth now alone to draw
what help thou canst from the hidden few 180that feed us still, and what is new to learn. Good fortune go with thee!
In speed return, for grudgingly
we spare thee from our brotherhood so small: and Gorlim in the wood
185is long astray or dead. Farewell!’
As Beren went, still like a knell
resounded in his heart that word,
the last of his father that he heard.
Through moor and fen, by tree and briar
190he wandered far: he saw the fire of Sauron’s camp, he heard the howl
of hunting Orc and wolf a-prowl,
and turning back, for long the way,
benighted in the forest lay.
195In weariness he then must sleep, fain in a badger-hole to creep,
and yet he heard (or dreamed it so)
nearby a marching legion go
with clink of mail and clash of shields 200up towards the stony mountain-fields.
He slipped then into darkness down,
until, as man that waters drown
strives upwards gasping, it seemed to him he rose through slime beside the brim
205of sullen pool beneath dead trees.
Their livid boughs in a cold breeze
trembled, and all their black leaves stirred: each leaf a black and croaking bird,
whose neb a gout of blood let fall.
210He shuddered, struggling thence to crawl through winding weeds, when far away
he saw a shadow faint and grey
gliding across the dreary lake.
Slowly it came, and softly spake:
215‘Gorlim I was, but now a wraith of will defeated, broken faith,
traitor betrayed. Go! Stay not here!
Awaken, son of Barahir,
and haste! For Morgoth’s fingers close
220upon thy father’s throat; he knows your trysts, your paths, your secret lair.’
Then he revealed the devil’s snare
in which he fell, and failed; and last
begging forgiveness, wept, and passed
225out into darkness. Beren woke, leapt up as one by sudden stroke
with fire of anger filled. His bow
and sword he seized, and like the roe
hotfoot o’er rock and heath he sped
230before the dawn. Ere day was dead to Aeluin at last he came,
as the red sun westward sank in flame;
but Aeluin was red with blood,
red were the stones and trampled mud.
235Black in the birches sat a-row the raven and the carrion crow;
wet were their nebs, and dark the meat
that dripped beneath their griping feet.
One croaked: ‘Ha, ha, he comes too late!’
240‘Ha, ha!’ they answered, ‘ha! too late!’
There Beren laid his father’s bones
in haste beneath a cairn of stones;
no graven rune nor word he wrote
o’er Barahir, but thrice he smote
245the topmost stone, and thrice aloud he cried his name. ‘Thy death’, he vowed, ‘I will avenge. Yea, though my fate
should lead at last to Angband’s gate.’
And then he turned, and did not weep:
250too dark his heart, the wound too deep.
Out into night, as cold as stone,
loveless, friendless, he strode alone.
Of hunter’s lore he had no need
the trail to find. With little heed
255his ruthless foe, secure and proud, marched north away with blowing loud
of brazen horns their lord to greet,
trampling the earth with grinding feet.
Behind them bold but wary went
260now Beren, swift as hound on scent, until beside a darkling well,
where Rivil rises from the fell
down into Serech’s reeds to flow,
he found the slayers, found his foe.
265From hiding on the hillside near he marked them all: though less than fear too many for his sword and bow
to slay alone. Then, crawling low as snake in heath, he nearer crept.
270There many weary with marching slept, but captains, sprawling on the grass,
drank and from hand to hand let pass
their booty, grudging each small thing
raped from dead bodies. One a ring
275held up, and laughed: ‘Now, mates,’ he cried, ‘here’s mine! And I’ll not be denied,
though few be like it in the land.
For I ’twas wrenched it from the hand
of that same Barahir I slew,