The Lays of Beleriand. Christopher Tolkien

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СКАЧАТЬ will I come from the courts of Thingol;long ere manhood I will lead to Morwingreat tale of treasure, and true comrades’ –for he wist not the weird woven by Bauglir,160nor the sundering sorrow that swept between.The farewells are taken: their footsteps are turnedto the dark forest: the dwelling fadethin the tangled trees. Then in Túrin leapthis awakened heart, and he wept blindly,165calling ‘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.’170And there came his cries calling faintlydown the dark alleys of the dreary trees,and one who wept weary on the thresholdheard 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 of Morgoth thronged the woodland.
Magics were about them, that they missed their ways	185
and strayed steerless, and the stars were hid.
Thus they passed the mountains, but the mazes of Doriath
wildered and wayworn in wanhope bound them.
They had nor bread nor water, and bled of strength
their death they deemed it to die forewandered,	190
when they heard a horn that hooted afar,
and baying dogs. It was Beleg the hunter,
who farthest fared of his folk abroad
ahunting by hill and hollow valley,
who cared not for concourse and commerce of men.	195
He was great of growth and goodly-limbed,
but lithe of girth, and lightly on the ground
his footsteps fell as he fared towards them,
all garbed in grey and green and brown –
a son of the wilderness who wist no sire.	200

‘Who are ye?’ he asked. ‘Outlaws, or maybe
hard hunted men whom hate pursueth?’

‘Nay, for famine and thirst we faint,’ saith Halog,
‘wayworn and wildered, and wot not the road.
Or hast not heard of the hills of slain,	205
or the tear-drenchéd field where the terror and fire
of Morgoth devoured both Men and Elves?
There Thalion Erithámrod and his thanes like gods
vanished from the earth, and his valiant lady
weeps yet widowed as she waits in Hithlum.	210
Thou lookest on the last of the lieges of Morwin
and Thalion’s son Túrin, who to Thingol’s court
are wending by the word of the wife of Húrin.’

Then Beleg bade them be blithe, and said:
‘The Gods have guided you to good keeping.	215
I have heard of the house of Húrin the Steadfast –
and who hath not heard of the hills of slain,
of Nínin Unothradin, the Unnumbered Tears?
To that war I went not, but wage a feud
with the Orcs unending, whom mine arrows bitter	220
oft stab unseen and strike to death.
I am the huntsman Beleg of the Hidden People.’
Then he bade them drink, and drew from his belt
a flask of leather full filled with wine
that is bruised from the berries of the burning South –	225
and the Gnome-folk know it, and the nation of the Elves,
and by long ways lead it to the lands of the North.
There bakéd flesh and bread from his wallet
they had to their hearts’ joy; but their heads were mazed
by the wine of Dor-Winion that went in their veins,	230
and they soundly slept on the soft needles
of the tall pine-trees that towered above.
Later they wakened and were led by ways
devious winding through the dark wood-realm
by slade and slope and swampy thicket	235
through lonely days and long night-times,
and but for Beleg had been baffled utterly
by the magic mazes of Melian the Queen.
To the shadowy shores he showed the way
where stilly that stream strikes ’fore the gates	240
of the cavernous court of the King of Doriath.
O’er the guarded bridge he gained a passage,
and thrice they thanked him, and thought in their hearts
‘the Gods are good’ – had they guessed maybe
what the future enfolded they had feared to live.	245

To the throne of Thingol the three were come,
and their speech sped them; for he spake them fair,
and held in honour Húrin the steadfast,
Beren Ermabwed’s brother-in-arms.
Remembering Morwin, of mortals fairest,	250
he turned not Túrin in contempt away;
said: ‘O son of Húrin, here shalt sojourn
in my cavernous court for thy kindred’s sake.
Nor as slave or servant, but a second king’s son
thou shalt dwell in dear love, till thou deem’st it time	255
to remember thy mother Morwin’s loneliness.
Thou wisdom shalt win unwist of Men
and weapons shalt wield as the warrior Elves,
and Thalion’s son no thrall shall be.’

There tarried the twain that had tended the child,	260
till their limbs were lightened and they longed to fare
through dread and danger to their dear lady.
But Gumlin was gone in greater years
than Halog, and hoped not to home again.
Then sickness took him, and he stayed by Túrin,	265
while Halog hardened his heart to go.
An Elfin escort to his aid was given
and magics of Melian, and a meed of gold.
In his mouth a message to Morwin was set,
words of the king’s will, how her wish was granted;	270
how Thingol called her to the Thousand Caves
to fare unfearing with his folk again,
there to sojourn in solace, till her son be grown;
for Húrin the hero was held in mind,
and no might had Morgoth where Melian dwelt.	275

Of the errand of the Elves and that other Halog
the tale tells not, save in time they came
to the threshold of Morwin, and Thingol’s message
was said where she sate in her solitary hall.
But she dared not do as was dearly bidden,	280
for Nienor her nestling was not yet weaned.
More, the pride of her people, princes of Men,
had suffered her send her son to Thingol
when despair sped her, but to spend her days
as alms-guest of others, even Elfin kings,	285
it liked her little; and there lived e’en now
a hope in her heart that Húrin would come,
and the dwelling was dear where he dwelt of old.
At night she would listen for a knock at the doors,
or a footstep falling that she fondly knew;	290
so she fared not forth, and her fate was woven.
Yet the thanes of Thingol she thanked nobly,
and her shame she showed not, how shorn of glory
to reward their wending she had wealth too scant;
but gave them in gift her golden things	295
that last lingered, and they led away
a helm of Húrin that was hewn in war
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