|
|
(6 intermediate revisions by 4 users not shown) |
Line 1: |
Line 1: |
| {{lolcantos}} | | {{lolcantos}} |
| This [[Cantos of the Lay of Leithian|Canto]] speaks of [[Lúthien Tinúviel]] after the departure of [[Beren Erchamion|Beren]] and how she went to her mother [[Melian]] and friend [[Dairon]], begging for aid, from the first foresight and from the second music. Melian said that Beren was in the dungeons of [[Thû]], and Dairon refused to play any music. A second time Dairon betrayed her, this time out of love, to her father [[Thingol]], who placed her in a guarded treehouse. But by magic she grew out her hair and made a robe and rope of it "a magic dress / that all was drenched in drowsiness". Lowering the rope she put to sleep her guards and escaped. | | This [[Cantos of the Lay of Leithian|Canto]] speaks of [[Lúthien|Lúthien Tinúviel]] after the departure of [[Beren]] and how she went to her mother [[Melian]] and friend [[Dairon]], begging for aid, from the first foresight and from the second music. Melian said that Beren was in the dungeons of [[Thû]], and Dairon refused to play any music. A second time Dairon betrayed her, this time out of love, to her father [[Thingol]], who placed her in a guarded treehouse. But by magic she grew out her hair and made a robe and rope of it "a magic dress / that all was drenched in drowsiness". Lowering the rope she put to sleep her guards and escaped. |
|
| |
|
| == The Canto ==
| | [[File:Ted Nasmith - Lúthien Escapes the Treehouse.jpg|thumb|right|250px|'''Lúthien Escapes the Treehouse''' by [[Ted Nasmith]]. ''Note:There are several innacuracies; see below'']] |
| [[Image:Ted Nasmith - Lúthien Escapes the Treehouse.jpg|thumb|right|250px|'''Lúthien Escapes the Treehouse''' by [[Ted Nasmith]]. ''Note:There are several innacuracies; see below'']] | |
| <blockquote>So days drew on from the mournful day;<br>
| |
| the curse of silence no more lay<br>
| |
| on [[Doriath]], though [[Dairon]]'s flute<br>
| |
| and [[Lúthien]]'s singing both were mute.<br>
| |
| The murmurs soft awake once more<br>
| |
| about the woods, the [[Esgalduin|waters]] roar<br>
| |
| past the great gates of [[Menegroth|Thingol's halls]];<br>
| |
| but no dancing step of Lúthien falls<br>
| |
| on turf or leaf. For she forlorn,<br>
| |
| where stumbled once, where bruised and torn,<br>
| |
| with longing on him like a dream,<br>
| |
| had [[Beren Erchamion|Beren]] sat by shrouded stream<br>
| |
| [[Esgalduin]] the dark and strong,<br>
| |
| she sat and mourned in a low song:<br>
| |
| "Endless roll the waters past!<br>
| |
| To this my love hath come at last,<br>
| |
| enchanted waters pitiless,<br>
| |
| a heartache and a loneliness."</blockquote>
| |
|
| |
|
| <blockquote>The summer turns. In branches tall<br>
| | ==Concerning the Canto== |
| she hears the pattering raindrops fall,<br>
| |
| the windy tide in leafy seas,<br>
| |
| the creaking of the countless trees;<br>
| |
| and longs unceasing and in vain<br>
| |
| to hear one calling once again<br>
| |
| the tender name that [[nightingales]]<br>
| |
| were called of old. Echo fails.<br>
| |
| "[[Tinúviel]]! Tinúviel!"<br>
| |
| the memory is like a knell,<br>
| |
| a faint and far-off tolling bell:<br>
| |
| "Tinúviel! Tinúviel!"</blockquote>
| |
|
| |
|
| <blockquote>"O mother [[Melian]], tell to me<br>
| | After Beren is gone, the forest falls into solemn silence: |
| some part of what thy dark eyes see!<br>
| |
| Tell of thy magic where his feet<br>
| |
| are wandering! What foes him meet?<br>
| |
| O mother, tell me, lives he still<br>
| |
| treading the desert and the hill?<br>
| |
| Do sun and moon above him shine,<br>
| |
| do the rains fall on him, mother mine?"</blockquote>
| |
|
| |
|
| <blockquote>"Nay, Lúthien my child, I fear<br> | | <blockquote> |
| he lives indeed in bondage drear.<br>
| | ''So days drew on from the mournful day;<br> |
| The [[Sauron|Lord of wolves]] hath [[Tol-in-Gaurhoth|prisons]] dark,<br>
| | ''the curse of silence no more lay<br> |
| chains and enchantments cruel and stark,<br>
| | ''on Doriath, though Dairon's flute<br> |
| there trapped and bound and languishing<br>
| | ''and Lúthien's singing both were mute.<br> |
| now Beren dreams that thou dost sing."</blockquote>
| | </blockquote> |
|
| |
|
| <blockquote>"Then I alone must go to him<br>
| | Lúthien sings only quietly this medley of mourning: |
| and dare the dread in dungeons dim;<br>
| |
| for none there be that will him aid<br>
| |
| in all the world, save elven-maid<br>
| |
| whose only skill were joy and song,<br>
| |
| and both have failed and left her long."<br>
| |
| The nought said Melian thereto,<br>
| |
| though wild the words. She wept anew,<br>
| |
| and ran through the woods like hunted deer<br>
| |
| with her hair streaming and eyes of fear.<br>
| |
| Dairon she found with ferny crown<br>
| |
| silently sitting on beech-leaves brown.<br>
| |
| On the earth she cast her at his side.<br>
| |
| "O Dairon, Dairon, my tears," she cried,<br>
| |
| "now pity for our old days' sake!<br>
| |
| Make me a music for heart's ache,<br>
| |
| for heart's despair, and for heart's dread,<br>
| |
| for light gone dark and laughter dead!"</blockquote>
| |
|
| |
|
| <blockquote>"But for music dead there is no note,"<br> | | <blockquote> |
| Dairon answered, and at his throat<br>
| | '' 'Endless roll the waters past!<br> |
| his fingers clutched. Yet his pipe he took,<br>
| | ''To this my love hath come at last,<br> |
| and sadly trembling the music shook;<br>
| | ''enchanted waters pitiless,<br> |
| and all things stayed while that piping went<br>
| | ''a heartache and a loneliness.'<br> |
| wailing in the hollows, and there intent<br>
| | </blockquote> |
| they listened, their business and mirth,<br>
| |
| their hearts' gladness and the light of earth<br>
| |
| forgotten; and bird-voices failed<br>
| |
| while Dairon's flute in Doriath wailed.<br>
| |
| Lúthien wept not for very pain,<br>
| |
| and when he ceased she spoke again:<br>
| |
| "My friend, I have a need of friends,<br>
| |
| as he who a long dark journey wends,<br>
| |
| and fears the road, yet dare not turn<br>
| |
| and look back where the candles burn<br>
| |
| in windows he has left. The night<br>
| |
| in front, he doubts to find the light<br>
| |
| that far beyond the hills he seeks."<br>
| |
| And thus of Melian's words she speaks,<br>
| |
| and of her doom and her desire<br>
| |
| to climb the [[Iron Mountains|mountains]], and the fire<br>
| |
| and ruin of the [[Angband|Northern realm]]<br>
| |
| to dare, a maiden without helm<br>
| |
| or sword, or strength of hardy limb,<br>
| |
| where magic founders and grows dim.<br>
| |
| His aid she sought to guide her forth<br>
| |
| and find the pathways to the North,<br>
| |
| if he would not for love of her<br>
| |
| go by her side a wanderer.<br>
| |
| "Wherefor," said he, "Should Dairon go<br>
| |
| into direst peril earth doth know<br>
| |
| for the sake of mortal who did steal<br>
| |
| his laughter and joy? No love I feel<br>
| |
| for Beren son of [[Barahir son of Bregor|Barahir]],<br>
| |
| nor weep for him in dungeons drear,<br>
| |
| who in this wood have chains enow,<br>
| |
| heavy and dark. But thee, I vow,<br>
| |
| I will defend from perils fell<br>
| |
| and deadly wandering into [[Angband|hell]]."</blockquote>
| |
|
| |
|
| <blockquote>No more they spake that day, and she<br>
| | After learning from Melian of Beren's fate, she seeks comfort in Dairon, begging him to make her music to aid her heart. |
| perceived not his meaning. Sorrowfully<br>
| |
| she thanked him, and he left him there.<br>
| |
| A tree she climbed, till the bright air<br>
| |
| above the woods her dark hair blew,<br>
| |
| and straining afar her eyes could view<br>
| |
| the outline grey and faint and low<br>
| |
| of dizzy towers where the clouds go,<br> | |
| the southern faces mounting sheer<br>
| |
| in rocky pinnacle and pier<br>
| |
| of [[Mountains of Terror|Shadowy Mountains]] pale and cold;<br>
| |
| and wide the lands before them rolled.<br>
| |
| But straightway Dairon sought the king<br>
| |
| and told him his daughter's pondering<br>
| |
| and how her madness might her lead<br>
| |
| to ruin, unless the king gave heed.<br>
| |
| Thingol was wroth, and yet amazed;<br>
| |
| in wonder and half fear he gazed<br> | |
| on Dairon, and said: 'True hast thou been.<br>
| |
| Now ever shall love be us between,<br>
| |
| while Doriath lasts; within this realm<br>
| |
| thou art a prince of beech and elm!'<br>
| |
| He sent for Lúthien, and said:<br>
| |
| 'O maiden fair, what hath thee led<br>
| |
| to ponder madness and despair<br>
| |
| to wander to ruin, and to fare<br>
| |
| from Doriath against my will<br>
| |
| stealing like a wild thing men would kill<br>
| |
| into the emptiness outside?'<br>
| |
| 'The wisdom, father,' she replied;<br>
| |
| nor would she promise to forget,<br>
| |
| nor would she vow for love or threat<br>
| |
| her folly to forsake and meek<br> | |
| in Doriath her father's will to seek.<br>
| |
| This only vowed she, if go she must,<br>
| |
| that none but herself would she now trust,<br>
| |
| no folk of her father's would persuade<br>
| |
| to break his will or lend her aid;<br>
| |
| if go she must, she would go alone<br>
| |
| and friendless dare the walls of stone.</blockquote>
| |
|
| |
|
| <blockquote>In angry love and half in fear<br> | | <blockquote> |
| Thingol took counsel his most dear<br>
| | '' On earth she cast her at his side.<br> |
| to guard and keep. He would not bind<br>
| | '' 'O Dairon, Dairon, my tears,' she cried,<br> |
| in caverns deep and intertwined<br>
| | '' 'now pity for our old days' sake!<br> |
| sweet Lúthien, his lovely maid,<br>
| | '' for heart's despair, and for heart's dread<br> |
| who robbed of air must wane and fade,<br>
| | '' for light gone dark and laughter dead!'<br> |
| who ever must look upon the sky<br>
| | </blockquote> |
| and see the sun and moon go by.<br>
| |
| But close unto his mounded seat<br>
| |
| and grassy throne there ran the feet<br>
| |
| of [[Hirilorn]], the beechen queen.<br>
| |
| Upon her triple boles were seen<br>
| |
| no break nor branch, until aloft<br>
| |
| in a greener glimmer, distant, soft,<br>
| |
| the mightiest vault of leaf and bough<br>
| |
| from world's beginning until now<br>
| |
| was flung above Esgalduin's shores<br>
| |
| and the long slopes of Thingol's doors.<br> | |
| Grey was the rind of pillars tall<br>
| |
| and silken-smooth, and far and small<br> | |
| to squirrels' eyes were those who went<br>
| |
| at her grey feet upon the bent.<br>
| |
| Now Thingol made men in the beech,<br>
| |
| in that great tree, as far as reach<br>
| |
| their longest ladders, there to build<br>
| |
| an airy house; and as he willed<br>
| |
| a little dwelling of fair wood<br>
| |
| was made, and veiled in leaves it stood<br>
| |
| above the first branches. Corners three<br>
| |
| it had and windows faint to see,<br>
| |
| and by three shafts of Hirilorn<br>
| |
| in the corners standing was upborne.<br>
| |
| There Lúthien was bidden dwell,<br>
| |
| until she was wiser and the spell<br>
| |
| of madness left her. Up she clomb<br>
| |
| the long ladders to her new home<br>
| |
| among the leaves, among the [[birds]];<br>
| |
| she sang no song, she wpoke no words.<br>
| |
| White glimmering in the tree she rose,<br>
| |
| and her little door they heard her close.<br>
| |
| The ladders were taken and no more<br>
| |
| her feet might tread Esgalduin's shore.</blockquote>
| |
|
| |
|
| <blockquote>Thither at whiles they climbed and brought<br>
| | But "for music dead there is no note", replies Dairon, though he plays a wailing melody that causes all creatures, birds and elves, to forget their happiness. Though Lúthien entreats him then to come with her to seek Beren, he replies firmly |
| all things she needed or besought;<br>
| |
| but death was his, whoso should dare<br>
| |
| a ladder leave, or creeping there<br>
| |
| should set one by the tree at night;<br>
| |
| a guard was held from dusk to light<br>
| |
| about the grey feet of Hirilorn<br>
| |
| and Lúthien in prison and forlorn.<br>
| |
| There Dairon grieving often stood<br>
| |
| in sorrow for the captive of wood,<br>
| |
| and melodies made upon his flute<br>
| |
| leaning against the grey tree-root.<br>
| |
| Lúthien would from her windows stare<br>
| |
| and see him far under piping there,<br>
| |
| and she forgave his betraying word<br>
| |
| for the music and the grief she heard,<br>
| |
| and only Dairon would she let<br>
| |
| across her threshold foot to set.<br>
| |
| Yet long the hours when she must sit<br>
| |
| and see the sunbeams dance and flit<br>
| |
| in beechen leaves, or watch the stars<br>
| |
| peep on clear night between the bars<br>
| |
| of beechen branches. And one night<br>
| |
| just ere the changing of the light<br>
| |
| a dream there came, from the [[Gods]], maybe,<br> | |
| of [[Melian]]'s magic. She dreamed that she<br>
| |
| heard Beren's voice o'er hill and fell<br>
| |
| 'Tinúviel' call, 'Tinúviel.'<br>
| |
| And her heart answered: 'Let me be gone<br>
| |
| to seek him no others think upon!'<br> | |
| She woke and saw the moonlight pale<br>
| |
| through the slim leaves. It trembled frail<br>
| |
| upon her arms, as these she spread<br>
| |
| and there in longing bowed her head,<br>
| |
| and yearned for freedom and escape.</blockquote>
| |
|
| |
|
| <blockquote>Now Lúthien doth her counsel shape;<br> | | <blockquote> |
| and Melian's daughter of deep lore<br>
| | '' 'Wherefore,' said he, 'should Dairon go<br> |
| knew many things, yea, magics more<br>
| | ''into direst peril earth doth know<br> |
| than then or now know elven-maids<br>
| | ''for the sake of mortal who did steal<br> |
| that glint and shimmer in the glades.<br>
| | ''his laughter and joy? No love I feel<br> |
| She pondered long, while the moon sank<br>
| | ''for Beren son of Barahir,<br> |
| and faded, and the starlight shrank,<br>
| | ''nor weep for him in dungeons drear,<br> |
| and the dawn opened. At last a smile<br>
| | ''who in this wood have chains enow,<br> |
| on her face flickered. She mused a while,<br>
| | ''heavy and dark. But thee, I vow,<br> |
| and watched the morning sunlight grow,<br>
| | ''I will defend from perils fell<br> |
| then called to those that walked below.<br>
| | ''and deadly wandering into hell.'<br> |
| And when one climbed to her she prayed<br>
| | </blockquote> |
| that he would in the dark pools wade<br>
| |
| of cold [[Esgalduin]], water clear,<br>
| |
| the clearest water cold and sheer<br>
| |
| to draw for her. 'At middle night,'<br>
| |
| she said, 'in bowl of silver white<br>
| |
| it must be drawn and brought to me<br>
| |
| with no word spoken, silently.'<br>
| |
| Another she begged to bring her wine<br>
| |
| in a jar of [[gold]] where flowers twine—<br>
| |
| 'and singing let him come to me<br> | |
| at high noon, singing merrily.'<br>
| |
| Again she spake: 'Now go, I pray,<br>
| |
| to Melian the queen, and say:<br>
| |
| "thy daughter many a weary hour<br>
| |
| slow passing watches in her bower;<br>
| |
| a spinning-wheel she begs thee send."'<br>
| |
| then Dairon she called: 'I prithee, friend,<br>
| |
| climb up and talk to Lúthien!'<br>
| |
| And sitting at her window then,<br>
| |
| she said: 'My Dairon, thou hast craft,<br>
| |
| beside thy music, many a shaft<br>
| |
| and many a tool of carven wood<br> | |
| to fashion with cuning. It were good,<br>
| |
| if thou wouldst make a little loom<br>
| |
| to stand in the corner of my room.<br>
| |
| My idle fingers would spin and weave<br>
| |
| a pattern of colours, of morn and eve,<br>
| |
| of sun and moon and changing light<br>
| |
| amid the beech-leaves waving bright.'<br>
| |
| This Dairon did and asked her then:<br>
| |
| 'O Lúthien, O Lúthien,<br> | |
| What wilt thou weave? What wilt thou spin?'<br>
| |
| 'A marvellous thread, and wind therein<br> | |
| a potent magic, and a spell<br>
| |
| I will weave within my web that hell<br>
| |
| nor all the powers of Dread shall break.'<br>
| |
| Then Dairon wondered, but he spake<br>
| |
| no word to Thingol, though his heart<br>
| |
| feared the dark purpose of her art.</blockquote>
| |
|
| |
|
| <blockquote>And Lúthien now was left alone.<br>
| | This indeed does Dairon do, for he warns the King of Lúthien's apparent madness. Thingol "in angry love and half in fear" locks her up in a treehouse, not wanting to bind her in his caverns. Lúthien, though forgiving Dairon, pines for Beren. |
| A magic song to [[Men]] unknown<br>
| |
| she sang, and singing then the wine<br>
| |
| with water mingled three times nine;<br>
| |
| and as in golden jar they lay<br>
| |
| she sang a song of growth and day;<br>
| |
| and as they lay in silver white<br>
| |
| another song she sang, of night<br>
| |
| and darkness without end, of height<br>
| |
| uplifted to the stars, and flight<br>
| |
| and freedom. And all names of things<br>
| |
| tallest and longest on earth she sings:<br>
| |
| the locks of the [[Longbeard]] dwarves; the tail<br>
| |
| of [[Draugluin]] the [[werewolf]] pale;<br>
| |
| the body of [[Glómund]] the great [[dragons|snake]];<br>
| |
| the vast upsoaring peaks that quake<br>
| |
| above the fires in [[Angband]]'s gloom;<br>
| |
| the chain [[Angainor]] that ere Doom<br>
| |
| for [[Morgoth]] shall by Gods be wrought<br>
| |
| of steel and torment. Names she sought,<br>
| |
| and sang of [[Glend]] the sword of [[Nan]];<br> | |
| of [[Gilim]] the giant of [[Eruman]];<br>
| |
| and last and longest named she then<br>
| |
| the endless hair of [[Uinen]],<br>
| |
| the Lady of the Sea, that lies<br>
| |
| through all the waters under skies.<br>
| |
| Then did she lave her head and sing<br>
| |
| a theme of sleep and slumbering,<br> | |
| profound and fathomless and dark<br>
| |
| as Lúthien's shadowy hair was dark—<br>
| |
| each thread was more slender and more fine<br>
| |
| than threads of twilight that entwine<br>
| |
| in filmy web the fading grass<br>
| |
| and closing flowers as day doth pass.<br>
| |
| Now long and longer grew her hair,<br>
| |
| and fell to her feet, and wandered there<br>
| |
| like pools of shadow on the ground.<br>
| |
| Then Lúthien in a slumber drowned<br>
| |
| was laid upon her bed and slept,<br>
| |
| till morning through the windows crept<br>
| |
| thinly and faint. And then she woke,<br>
| |
| and the room was filled as with a smoke<br>
| |
| and with an evening mist, and deep<br>
| |
| she lay thereunder drowsed in sleep.<br>
| |
| Behold! her hair from windows blew<br>
| |
| in morning airs, and darkly grew<br>
| |
| waving about the pillars grey<br>
| |
| of Hirilorn at break of day.</blockquote>
| |
|
| |
|
| <blockquote>Then groping she found her little shears,<br> | | <blockquote> |
| and cut the hair about her ears,<br> | | '' Yet long the hours when she must sit<br> |
| and close she cropped it to her head,<br> | | ''and see the sunbeams dance and flit<br> |
| enchanted tresses, thread by thread.<br>
| | ''in beechen leaves, or watch the stars<br> |
| Thereafter grew they slow once more,<br>
| | ''peep on clear nights between the bars<br> |
| yet darker than their wont before.<br>
| | ''of beechen branches. And one night<br> |
| And now was her labour but begun:<br>
| | ''just ere the changing of the light<br> |
| long was she spinning, long she spun;<br>
| | ''a dream there came, from the Gods, maybe,<br> |
| and though with elvish skill she wrought,<br>
| | ''or Melian's magic. She dreamed that she<br> |
| long was her weaving. If men sought<br>
| | ''heard Beren's voice o'er hill and fell<br> |
| to call her, crying from below,<br>
| | '' 'Tinúviel' call, 'Tinúviel.'<br> |
| 'Nothing I need,' she answered, 'go!<br> | | ''And her heart answered 'Let me be gone<br> |
| I would keep my bed, and only sleep<br>
| | ''to seek him no others think upon!'<br> |
| I now desire, who waking waking weep.'</blockquote>
| | </blockquote> |
|
| |
|
| <blockquote>Then Dairon feared, and in amaze<br>
| | Following is a detailed description of her magic art to grow out her hair. Then she weaves them with a borrowed loom |
| he called from under; but three days<br>
| |
| she answered not. Of cloudy hair<br>
| |
| she wove a web like misty air<br>
| |
| of moonless night, and thereof made<br> | |
| a robe as fluttering-dark as shade<br>
| |
| beneath great trees, a magic dress<br>
| |
| that all was drenched with drowsiness,<br>
| |
| enchanted with a mightier spell<br>
| |
| than Melian's raiment in that dell<br>
| |
| wherein of yore did Thingol roam<br>
| |
| beneath the dark and starry dome<br>
| |
| that hung above the dawning world.<br>
| |
| And now this robe she round her furled,<br>
| |
| and veiled her garments shimmering white;<br>
| |
| her mantle blue with jewels bright<br>
| |
| like crystal stars, the lilies gold,<br>
| |
| were wrapped and hid; and down there rolled<br>
| |
| dim dreams and faint oblivious sleep<br>
| |
| falling about her, to softly creep<br>
| |
| through all the air. Then swift she takes<br>
| |
| the threads unused; of these she makes<br>
| |
| a slender rope of twisted strands<br> | |
| yet long and stout, and with her hands<br>
| |
| she makes it fast unto the shaft<br>
| |
| of Hirilorn. Now, all her craft<br>
| |
| and labout ended, looks she forth<br>
| |
| from her little window facing North.</blockquote>
| |
|
| |
|
| <blockquote>Already the sunlight in the trees<br> | | <blockquote> |
| is drooping red, and dusk she sees<br>
| | ''. . . Of cloudy hair<br> |
| come softly along the ground below,<br>
| | ''she wove a web like misty air<br> |
| and now she murmurs soft and slow.<br>
| | ''of moonless night, and thereof made<br> |
| Now chanting clearer down she cast<br>
| | ''a robe as fluttering-dark as shade<br> |
| her long hair, till it reached at last<br>
| | ''beneath great trees, a magic dress<br> |
| from her window to the darkling ground.<br>
| | ''that all was drenched with drowsiness.<br> |
| Men far beneath her heawrd the sound;<br>
| | </blockquote> |
| but the slumbrous strand now swung and swayed<br>
| |
| above her guards. Their talking stayed,<br>
| |
| they listened to her voice and fell<br>
| |
| suddenly beneath a binding spell.</blockquote>
| |
|
| |
|
| <blockquote>Now clad as in a cloud she hung;<br> | | And finally as the sun goes down she causes the guards to fall asleep with the rope, and |
| now down her ropéd hair she swung<br> | | |
| as light as squirrel, and away,<br> | | <blockquote> |
| away, she danced, and who could say<br> | | ''Now clad as in a cloud she hung;<br> |
| what paths she took, whose elvish feet<br> | | ''now down her ropéd hair she swung<br> |
| no impress made a-dancing fleet?</blockquote> | | ''as light as squirrel, and away,<br> |
| | ''away, she danced, and who could say<br> |
| | ''what paths she took, whose elvish feet<br> |
| | ''no impress made a-dancing fleet?<br> |
| | </blockquote> |