CONTENTS.
Preface
page x
I THE TALE OF TINUVIEL.
Notes and Commentary.


II TURAMBAR AND THE FOALOKE.
Notes and Commentary.


III THE FALL OF GONDOLIN.
Notes and Commentary.


IV THE NAUGLAFRING.
Notes and Commentary.


V THE TALE OF EARENDEL.

VI THE HISTORY OF ERIOL OR
AELFWINE AND THE END OF THE TALES
AElfwine of England.
Appendix: Names in the Lost Tales -- Part II
Short Glossary of Obsolete, Archaic, and Rare Words
Index.

PREFACE.
This second part of The Book of Lost Tales is arranged on the same lines
and with the same intentions as the first part, as described in the
Foreword to it, pages to -- i t. References to the first part are given in the
form 'I. 240', to the second as 'p. 240', except where a reference is made to
both, e.g. 'I. 222, II. 292'.
As before, I have adopted a consistent (if not necessarily 'correct')
system of accentuation for names; and in the cases of Mim and Niniel,
written thus throughout, I give Mim and Niniel.
The two pages from the original manuscripts are reproduced with the
permission of the Bodleian Library, Oxford, and I wish to express my
thanks to the staff of the Department of Western Manuscripts at the
Bodleian for their assistance. The correspondence of the original pages
to the printed text in this book is as follows:
(i) The page from the manuscript of The Tale of Tinuviel. Upper
part: printed text page 24 (7 lines up, the sorest dread) to page 25 (line 3,
so swiftly."). Lower part: printed text page 25 (iilines up, the harsh
voice) to page 26 (line 7, but Tevildo).
(2) The page from the manuscript of The Fall of Condolin. Upper
part: printed text page 189 (line 12, "Now," therefore said Galdor to
line 20 if no further."). Lower part: printed text page 189 (line 27, But
the others, led by one Legolas Greenleaf) to page 190 (line ii,
leaving the main company to follow he).
For differences in the printed text of The Fall of Gondolin from the
page reproduced see page 201, notes 34 36, and page 203, Bad Uthwen;
some other small differences not referred to in the notes are also due to
later changes made to the text B of the Tale (see pages 146 -- 7).
These pages illustrate the complicated 'jigsaw' of the manuscripts of
the Lost Tales described in the Foreword to Part I, page 10.
I take this opportunity to notice that it has been pointed out to me by
Mr Douglas A. Anderson that the version of the poem Why the Man in
the Moon came down too soon printed in The Book of Lost Tales I is not, as
I supposed, that published in A Northern Venture in 1923, but contains
several subsequent changes.
The third volume in this 'History' will contain the alliterative Lay
of the Children of Hurin (c. 1918 -- 1925) and the Lay of Leithian (1925 --
1931), together with the commentary on a part of the latter by
C. S. Lewis, and the rewriting of the poem that my father embarked on
after the completion of The Lord of the Rings.
I.
THE TALE OF TINUVIEL.
The Tale of Tinuviel was written in 1917, but the earliest extant text is
later, being a manuscript in ink over an erased original in pencil; and in
fact my father's rewriting of this tale seems to have been one of the last
completed elements in the Lost Tales (see I. 203 -- 4).
There is also.a typescript version of the Tale of Tinuviel, later than the
manuscript but belonging to the same 'phase' of the mythology: my
father had the manuscript before him and changed the text as he went
along. Significant differences between the two versions of the tale are
given on pp. 41 ff.
In the manuscript the tale is headed: 'Link to the Tale of Tinuviel, also
the Tale of Tinuviel.' The Link begins with the following passage:
'Great was the power of Melko for ill,' said Eriol, 'if he could indeed
destroy with his cunning the happiness and glory of the Gods and
Elves, darkening the light of their dwelling and bringing all their love
to naught. This must surely be the worst deed that ever he has done.'
'Of a truth never has such evil again been done in Valinor,' said
Lindo, 'but Melko's hand has laboured at worse things in the world,
and the seeds of his evil have waxen since to a great and terrible
growth.'
'Nay,' said Eriol, 'yet can my heart not think of other griefs, for
sorrow at the destruction of those most fair Trees and the darkness of
the world.'
This passage was struck out, and is not found in the typescript text,
but it reappears in almost identical form at the end of The Flight of the
Noldoli (I. 169). The reason for this was that my father decided that the
Tale of the Sun and Moon, rather than Tinuviel, should follow The
Darkening of Valinor and The Flight of the Nolduli (see I. 203 -- 4,
where the complex question of the re-ordering of the Tales at this point is
discussed). The opening words of the next part of the Link, 'Now in the
days soon after the telling of this tale', referred, when they were written,
to the tale of The Darkening of Valinor and The Flight of the Noldoli;
but it is never made plain to what tale they were to refer when Tinuviel
had been removed from its earlier position.
The two versions of the Link are at first very close, but when Eriol
speaks of his own past history they diverge. For the earlier part I give
the typescript text alone, and when they diverge I give them both in


succession. All discussion of this story of Eriol's life is postponed to
Chapter VI.
Now in the days soon after the telling of this tale, behold, winter
approached the land of Tol Eressea, for now had Eriol forgetful of
his wandering mood abode some time in old Kortirion. Never in
those months did he fare beyond the good tilth that lay without the
grey walls of that town, but many a hall of the kindreds of the
Inwir and the Teleri received him as their glad guest, and ever
more skilled in the tongues of the Elves did he become, and more
deep in knowledge of their customs, of their tales and songs.
Then was winter come sudden upon the Lonely Isle, and the
lawns and gardens drew on a sparkling mantle of white snows;
their fountains were still, and all their bare trees silent, and the far
sun glinted pale amid the mist or splintered upon facets of long
hanging ice. Still fared Eriol not away, but watched the cold moon
from the frosty skies look down upon Mar Vanwa Tyalieva, and
when above the roofs the stars gleamed blue he would listen, yet
no sound of the flutes of Timpinen heard he now; for the breath of
summer is that sprite, and or ever autumn's secret presence fills
the air he takes his grey magic boat, and the swallows draw him far
away.
Even so Eriol knew laughter and merriment and musics too,
and song, in the dwellings of Kortirion -- even Eriol the wanderer
whose heart before had known no rest. Came now a grey day, and
a wan afternoon, but within was firelight and good warmth and
dancing and merry children's noise, for Eriol was making a great
play with the maids and boys in the Hall of Play Regained. There
at length tired with their mirth they cast themselves down upon
the rugs before the hearth, and a child among them, a little maid,
said: 'Tell me, 0 Eriol, a tale! '
'What then shall I tell, 0 Veanne?' said he, and she, clambering
upon his knee, said: 'A tale of Men and of children in the Great
Lands, or of thy home -- and didst thou have a garden there such as
we, where poppies grew and pansies like those that grow in my
corner by the Arbour of the Thrushes?'
I give now the manuscript version of the remainder of the Link
passage:
Then Eriol told her of his home that was in an old town of Men
girt with a wall now crumbled and broken, and a river ran thereby

over which a castle with a great tower hung. 'A very high tower
indeed,' said he, 'and the moon climbed high or ever he thrust his
face above it.' 'Was it then as high as Ingil's Tirin?' said Veanne,
but Eriol said that that he could not guess, for 'twas very many
years agone since he had seen that castle or its tower, for '0
Veanne,' said he, 'I lived there but a while, and not after I was
grown to be a boy. My father came of a coastward folk, and the
love of the sea that I had never seen was in my bones, and my
father whetted my desire, for he told me tales that his father had
told him before. Now my mother died in a cruel and hungry siege
of that old town, and my father was slain in bitter fight about the
walls, and in the end I Eriol escaped to the shoreland of the
Western Sea, and mostly have lived upon the bosom of the waves
or by its side since those far days.'
Now the children about were filled with sadness at the sorrows
that fell on those dwellers in the Great Lands, and at the wars and
death, and Veanne clung to Eriol, saying: '0 Melinon, go never to
a war -- or hast thou ever yet?'
'Aye, often enough,' said Eriol, 'but not to the great wars of the
earthly kings and mighty nations which are cruel and bitter, and
many fair lands and lovely things and even women and sweet
maids such as thou Veanne Melinir are whelmed by them in ruin;
yet gallant affrays have I seen wherein small bands of brave men
do sometimes meet and swift blows are dealt. But behold, why
speak we of these things, little one; wouldst not hear rather of my
first ventures on the sea?'
Then was there much eagerness alight, and Eriol told them of
his wanderings about the western havens, of the comrades he
made and the ports he knew, of how he was wrecked upon far
western islands until at last upon one lonely one he came on an
ancient sailor who gave him shelter, and over a fire within his
lonely cabin told him strange tales of things beyond the Western
Seas, of the Magic Isles and that most lonely one that lay beyond.
Long ago had he once sighted it shining afar off, and after had he
sought it many a day in vain.
'Ever after,' said Eriol, 'did I sail more curiously about the
western isles seeking more stories of the kind, and thus it is indeed
that after many great voyages I came myself by the blessing of the
Gods to Tol Eressea in the end -- wherefore I now sit here talking
to thee, Veanne, till my words have run dry.'
Then nonetheless did a boy, Ausir, beg him to tell more of ships
and the sea, but Eriol said: 'Nay -- still is there time ere Ilfiniol ring


the gong for evening meat: come, one of you children, tell me a
tale that you have heard!' Then Veanne sat up and clapped her
hands, saying: 'I will tell you the Tale of Tinuviel.'
The typescript version of this passage reads as follows:
Then Eriol told of his home of long ago, that was in an ancient
town of Men girt with a wall now crumbled and broken, for the
folk that dwelt there had long known days of rich and easy peace.
A river ran thereby, o'er which a castle with a great tower hung.
'There dwelt a mighty duke,' said he, 'and did he gaze from the
topmost battlements never might he see the bounds of his wide
domain, save where far to east the blue shapes of the great moun-
tains lay -- yet was that tower held the most lofty that stood in the
lands of Men.' 'Was it as high as great Ingil's Tirin?' said Veanne,
but said Eriol: 'A very high tower indeed was it, and the moon
climbed far or ever he thrust his face above it, yet may I not now
guess how high, 0 Veanne, for 'tis many years agone since last I saw
that castle or its steep tower. War fell suddenly on that town amid
its slumbrous peace, nor were its crumbled walls able to withstand
the onslaught of the wild men from the Mountains of the East.
There perished my mother in that cruel and hungry siege, and my
father was slain fighting bitterly about the walls in the last sack. In
those far days was I not yet war-high, and a bondslave was I made.
'Know then that my father was come of a coastward folk ere he
wandered to that place, and the longing for the sea that I had never
seen was in my bones; which often had my father whetted, telling
me tales of the wide waters and recalling lore that he had learned of
his father aforetime. Small need to tell of my travail thereafter in
thraldom, for in the end I brake my bonds and got me to the
shoreland of the Western Sea -- and mostly have I lived upon the
bosom of its waves or by its side since those old days.'
Now hearing of the sorrows that fell upon the dwellers in the
Great Lands, the wars and death, the children were filled with
sadness, and Veanne clung to Eriol, saying: 'O Melinon, go thou
never to a war -- or hast thou ever yet?'
'Aye, often enough,' said Eriol, 'yet not to the great wars of the
earthly kings and mighty nations, which are cruel and bitter,
whelming in their ruin all the beauty both of the earth and of those
fair things that men fashion with their hands in times of peace --
nay, they spare not sweet women and tender maids, such as thou,
Veanne Melinir, for then are men drunk with wrath and the lust of


blood, and Melko fares abroad. But gallant affrays have I seen
wherein brave men did sometimes meet, and swift blows were
dealt, and strength of body and of heart was proven -- but, behold,
why speak we of these things, little one? Wouldst not hear rather
of my ventures on the sea?'
Then was there much eagerness alight, and Eriol told them of
his first wanderings about the western havens, of the comrades he
made, and the ports he knew; of how he was one time wrecked
upon far western islands and there upon a lonely eyot found an
ancient mariner who dwelt for ever solitary in a cabin on the shore,
that he had fashioned of the timbers of his boat. 'More wise was
he,' said Eriol, 'in all matters of the sea than any other I have met,
and much of wizardry was there in his lore. Strange things he told
me of regions far beyond the Western Sea, of the Magic Isles and
that most lonely one that lies behind. Once long ago, he said, he
had sighted it glimmering afar off, and after had he sought it many
a day in vain. Much lore he.taught me of the hidden seas, and the
dark and trackless waters, and without this never had I found this
sweetest land, or this dear town or the Cottage of Lost Play -- yet it
was not without long and grievous search thereafter, and many a
weary voyage, that I came myself by the blessing of the Gods to
Tol Eressea at the last -- wherefore I now sit here talking to thee,
Veanne, till my words have run dry.'
Then nevertheless did a boy, Ausir, beg him to tell more of
ships and the sea, saying: 'For knowest thou not, 0 Eriol, that that
ancient mariner beside the lonely sea was none other than Ulmo's
self, who appeareth not seldom thus to those voyagers whom he
loves -- yet he who has spoken with Ulmo must have many a tale to
tell that will not be stale in the ears even of those that dwell here in
Kortirion.' But Eriol at that time believed not that saying of
Ausir's, and said: 'Nay, pay me your debt ere Ilfrin ring the gong
for evening meat -- come, one of you shall tell me a tale that you
have heard.'
Then did Veanne sit up and clap her hands, crying: 'I will tell
thee the Tale of Tinuviel.'
*
The Tale of Tinuviel
I give now the text of the Tale of Tinuviel as it appears in the manuscript.
The Link is not in fact distinguished or separated in any way from the tale
proper, and Veanne makes no formal opening to it.


'Who was then Tinuviel?' said Eriol. 'Know you not?' said
Ausir; 'Tinuviel was the daughter of Tinwe Linto.' 'Tinwelint',
said Veanne, but said the other: "Tis all one, but the Elves of this
house who love the tale do say Tinwe Linto, though Vaire hath
said that Tinwe alone is his right name ere he wandered in the
woods.'
'Hush thee, Ausir,' said Veanne, 'for it is my tale and I will tell it
to Eriol. Did I not see Gwendeling and Tinuviel once with my
own eyes when journeying by the Way of Dreams in long past
days?"
'What was Queen Wendelin like (for so do the Elves call her),' 0
Veanne, if thou sawest her?' said Ausir.
'Slender and very dark of hair,' said Veanne, 'and her skin was
white and pale, but her eyes shone and seemed deep, and she
was clad in filmy garments most lovely yet of black, jet-spangled
and girt with silver. If ever she sang, or if she danced, dreams and
slumbers passed over your head and made it heavy. Indeed she
was a sprite that escaped from Lorien's gardens before even Kor
was built, and she wandered in the wooded places of the world,
and nightingales went with her and often sang about her. It
was the song of these birds that smote the ears of Tinwelint,
leader of that tribe of the Eldar that after were the Solosimpi
the pipers of the shore, as he fared with his companions behind the
horse of Orome from Palisor. Iluvatar had set a seed of music in
the hearts of all that kindred, or so Vaire saith, and she is of them,
and it blossomed after very wondrously, but now the song of
Gwendeling's nightingales was the most beautiful music that
Tinwelint had ever heard, and he strayed aside for a moment, as
he thought, from the host, seeking in the dark trees whence it
might come.
And it is said that it was not a moment he hearkened, but many
years, and vainly his people sought him, until at length they
followed Orome and were borne upon Tol Eressea far away, and
he saw them never again. Yet after a while as it seemed to
him he came upon Gwendeling lying in a bed of leaves gazing
at the stars above her and hearkening also to her birds. Now
Tinwelint stepping softly stooped and looked upon her, thinking
"Lo, here is a fairer being even than the most beautiful of my own
folk" -- for indeed Gwendeling was not elf or woman but of the
children of the Gods; and bending further to touch a tress of her
hair he snapped a twig with his foot. Then Gwendeling was up
and away laughing softly, sometimes singing distantly or dancing
ever just before him, till a swoon of fragrant slumbers fell upon
him and he fell face downward neath the trees and slept a very
great while.
Now when he awoke he thought no more of his people (and
indeed it had been vain, for long now had those reached Valinor)
but desired only to see the twilight-lady; but she was not far, for
she had remained nigh at hand and watched over him. More of
their story I know not, 0 Eriol, save that in the end she became his
wife, for Tinwelint and Gwendeling very long indeed were king
and queen of the Lost Elves of Artanor or the Land Beyond, or so
it is said here.
Long, long after, as thou knowest, Melko brake again into the
world from Valinor, and all the Eldar both those who remained in
the dark or had been lost upon the march from Palisor and those
Noldoli too who fared back into the world after him seeking their
stolen treasury fell beneath his power as thralls. Yet it is told that
many there were who escaped and wandered in the woods and
empty places, and of these many a wild and woodland clan rallied
beneath King Tinwelint. Of those the most were Ilkorindi --
which is to say Eldar that never had beheld Valinor or the Two
Trees or dwelt in Kor -- and eerie they were and strange beings,
knowing little of light or loveliness or of musics save it be dark
songs and chantings of a rugged wonder that faded in the wooded
places or echoed in deep caves. Different indeed did they become
when the Sun arose, and indeed before that already were their
numbers mingled with a many wandering Gnomes, and wayward
sprites too there were of Lorien's host that dwelt in the courts of
Tinwelint, being followers of Gwendeling, and these were not of
the kindreds of the Eldalie.
Now in the days of Sunlight and Moonsheen still dwelt Tinwelint
in Artanor, and nor he nor the most of his folk went to the Battle of
Unnumbered Tears, though that story toucheth not this tale. Yet
was his lordship greatly increased after that unhappy field by
fugitives that fled to his protection. Hidden was his dwelling from
the vision and knowledge of Melko by the magics of Gwendeling
the fay, and she wove spelts about the paths thereto that none
but the Eldar might tread them easily, and so was the king secured
from all dangers save it be treachery alone. Now his halls were
builded in a deep cavern of great size, and they were nonetheless a
kingly and a fair abode. This cavern was in the heart of the mighty
forest of Artanor that is the mightiest of forests, and a stream ran
before its doors, but none could enter that portal save across the



stream, and a bridge spanned it narrow and well-guarded. Those
places were not ill albeit the Iron Mountains were not utterly
distant beyond whom lay Hisilome where dwelt Men, and thrall-
Noldoli laboured, and few free-Eldar went.
Lo, now I will tell you of things that happened in the halls of
Tinwelint after the arising of the Sun indeed but long ere the
unforgotten Battle of Unnumbered Tears. And Melko had not
completed his designs nor had he unveiled his full might and
cruelty.
Two children had Tinwelint then, Dairon and Tinuviel, and
Tinuviel was a maiden, and the most beautiful of all the maidens
of the hidden Elves, and indeed few have been so fair, for her
mother was a fay, a daughter of the Gods; but Dairon was then a
boy strong and merry, and above all things he delighted to play
upon a pipe of reeds or other woodland instruments, and he is
named now among the three most magic players of the Elves, and
the others are Tinfang Warble and Ivare who plays beside the sea.
But Tinuviel's joy was rather in the dance, and no names are set
with hers for the beauty and subtlety of her twinkling feet.
Now it was the delight of Dairon and Tinuviel to fare away from
the cavernous palace of Tinwelint their father and together spend
long times amid the trees. There often would Dairon sit upon a
tussock or a tree-root and make music while Tinuviel danced
thereto, and when she danced to the playing of Dairon more
lissom was she than Gwendeling, more magical than Tinfang
Warble neath the moon, nor may any see such lilting save be it
only in the rose gardens of Valinor where Nessa dances on the
lawns of never-fading green.
Even at night when the moon shone pale still would they play
and dance, and they were not afraid as I should be, for the rule of
Tinwelint and of Gwendeling held evil from the woods and Melko
troubled them not as yet, and Men were hemmed beyond the hills.
Now the place that they loved the most was a shady spot, and
elms grew there, and beech too, but these were not very tall, and
some chestnut trees there were with white flowers, but the ground
was moist and a great misty growth of hemlocks rose beneath the
trees. On a time of June they were playing there, and the white
umbels of the hemlocks were like a cloud about the boles of the
trees, and there Tinuviel danced until the evening faded late, and
there were many white moths abroad. Tinuviel being a fairy
minded them not as many of the children of Men do, although she


loved not beetles, and spiders will none of the Eldar touch because
of Ungweliante -- but now the white moths flittered about her head
and Dairon trilled an eerie tune, when suddenly that strange thing
befell.
Never have I heard how Beren came thither over the hills; yet
was he braver than most, as thou shalt hear, and 'twas the love of
wandering maybe alone that had sped him through the terrors of
the Iron Mountains until he reached the Lands Beyond.
Now Beren was a Gnome, son of Egnor the forester who hunted
in the darker places' in the north of Hisilome. Dread and suspicion
was between the Eldar and those of their kindred that had tasted
the slavery of Melko, and in this did the evil deeds of the Gnomes
at the Haven of the Swans revenge itself. Now the lies of Melko
ran among Beren's folk so that they believed evil things of the
secret Elves, yet now did he see Tinuviel dancing in the twilight,
and Tinuviel was in a silver-pearly dress, and her bare white feet
were twinkling among the hemlock-stems. Then Beren cared not
whether she were Vala or Elf or child of Men and crept near to
see; and he leant against a young elm that grew upon a mound so
that he might look down into the little glade where she was
dancing, for the enchantment made him faint. So slender was she
and so fair that at length he stood heedlessly in the open the better
to gaze upon her, and at that moment the full moon came brightly
through the boughs and Dairon caught sight of Beren's face.
Straightway did he perceive that he was none of their folk, and
all the Elves of the woodland thought of the Gnomes of Dor
Lomin as treacherous creatures, cruel and faithless, wherefore
Dairon dropped his instrument and crying "Flee, flee, 0 Tinuviel,
an enemy walks this wood" he was gone swiftly through the trees.
Then Tinuviel in her amaze followed not straightway, for she
understood not his words at once, and knowing she could not run
or leap so hardily as her brother she slipped suddenly down among
the white hemlocks and hid herself beneath a very tall flower with
many spreading leaves; and here she looked in her white raiment
like a spatter of moonlight shimmering through the leaves upon
the floor.
Then Beren was sad, for he was lonely and was grieved at their
fright, and he looked for Tinuviel everywhere about, thinking her
not fled. Thus suddenly did he lay his hand upon her slender arm
beneath the leaves, and with a cry she started away from him and
flitted as fast as she could in the wan light, in and about the
tree-trunks and the hemlock-stalks. The tender touch of her arm



made Beren yet more eager than before to find her, and he
followed swiftly and yet not swiftly enough, for in the end she
escaped him, and reached the dwellings of her father in fear; nor
did she dance alone in the woods for many a day after.
This was a great sorrow to Beren, who would not leave those
places, hoping to see that fair elfin maiden dance yet again, and he
wandered in the wood growing wild and lonely for many a day and
searching for Tinuviel. By dawn and dusk he sought her, but ever
more hopefully when the moon shone bright. At last one night he
caught a sparkle afar off, and lo, there she was dancing alone on a
little treeless knoll and Dairon was not there. Often and often she
came there after and danced and sang to herself, and sometimes
Dairon would be nigh, and then Beren watched from the wood's
edge afar, and sometimes he was away and Beren crept then
closer. Indeed for long Tinuviel knew of his coming and feigned
otherwise, and for long her fear had departed by reason of the
wistful hunger of his face lit by the moonlight; and she saw that he
was kind and in love with her beautiful dancing.
Then Beren took to following Tinuviel secretly through the
woods even to the entrance of the cave and the bridge's head, and
when she was gone in he would cry across the stream, softly saying
"Tinuviel", for he had caught the name from Dairon's lips; and
although he knew it not Tinuviel often hearkened from within the
shadows of the cavernous doors and laughed softly or smiled. At
length one day as she danced alone he stepped out more boldly and
said to her: "Tinuviel, teach me to dance." "Who art thou?" said
she. "Beren. I am from across the Bitter Hills." "Then if thou
wouldst dance, follow me," said the maiden, and she danced
before Beren away, and away into the woods, nimbly and yet not
so fast that he could not follow, and ever and anon she would look
back and laugh at him stumbling after, saying "Dance, Beren,
dance! as they dance beyond the Bitter Hills!" In this way they
came by winding paths to the abode of Tinwelint, and Tinuviel
beckoned Beren beyond the stream, and he followed her wondering
down into the cave and the deep halls of her home.
When however Beren found himself before the king he was
abashed, and of the stateliness of Queen Gwendeling he was
in great awe, and behold when the king said: "Who art thou
that stumbleth into my halls unbidden?" he had nought to say.
Tinuviel answered therefore for him, saying: "This, my father, is
Beren, a wanderer from beyond the hills, and he would learn to

dance as the Elves of Artanor can dance," and she laughed, but the
king frowned when he heard whence Beren came, and he said:
"Put away thy light words, my child, and say has this wild Elf of
the shadows sought to do thee any harm?"
"Nay, father," said she, "and I think there is not evil in his heart
at all, and be thou not harsh with him, unless thou desirest to
see thy daughter Tinuviel weep, for more wonder has he at my
dancing than any that I have known." Therefore said Tinwelint
now: "0 Beren son of the Noldoli, what dost thou desire of the
Elves of the wood ere thou returnest whence thou camest?"
So great was the amazed joy of Beren's heart when Tinuviel
spake thus for him to her father that his courage rose within him,
and his adventurous spirit that had brought him out of Hisilome
and over the Mountains of Iron awoke again, and looking boldly
upon Tinwelint he said: "Why, 0 king, I desire thy daughter
Tinuviel, for she is the fairest and most sweet of all maidens I have
seen or dreamed of."
Then was there a silence in the hall, save that Dairon laughed,
and all who heard were astounded, but Tinuviel cast down her
eyes, and the king glancing at the wild and rugged aspect of Beren
burst also into laughter, whereat Beren flushed for shame, and
Tinuviel's heart was sore for him. "Why! wed my Tinuviel fairest
of the maidens of the world, and become a prince of the woodland
Elves -- 'tis but a little boon for a stranger to ask," quoth Tinwelint.
"Haply I may with right ask somewhat in return. Nothing great
shall it be, a token only of thy esteem. Bring me a Silmaril from the
Crown of Melko, and that day Tinuviel weds thee, an she will."
Then all in that place knew that the king treated the matter as an
uncouth jest, having pity on the Gnome, and they smiled, for the
fame of the Silmarils of Feanor was now great throughout the
world, and the Noldoli had told tales of them, and many that had
escaped from Angamandi had seen them now blazing lustrous in
the iron crown of Melko. Never did this crown leave his head, and
he treasured those jewels as his eyes, and no one in the world, or
fay or elf or man, could hope ever to set finger even on them and
live. This indeed did Beren know, and he guessed the meaning of
their mocking smiles, and aflame with anger he cried: "Nay, but
'tis too small a gift to the father of so sweet a bride. Strange
nonetheless seem to me the customs of the woodland Elves, like to
the rude laws of the folk of Men, that thou shouldst name the gift
unoffered, yet lo! I Beren, a huntsman of the Noldoli,' will fulfil
thy small desire," and with that he burst from the hall while


all stood astonished; but Tinuviel wept suddenly. "'Twas ill
done, 0 my father," she cried, "to send one to his death with thy
sorry jesting -- for now methinks he will attempt the deed, being
maddened by thy scorn, and Melko will slay him, and none will
look ever again with such love upon my dancing."
Then said the king: "'Twill not be the first of Gnomes that
Melko has slain and for less reason. It is well for him that he
lies not bound here in grievous spells for his trespass in my halls
and for his insolent speech"; yet Gwendeling said nought, neither
did she chide Tinuviel or question her sudden weeping for this
unknown wanderer.
Beren however going from before the face of Tinwelint was
carried by his wrath far through the woods, until he drew nigh to
the lower hills and treeless lands that warned of the approach of
the bleak Iron Mountains. Only then did he feel his weariness and
stay his march, and thereafter did his greater travails begin.
Nights of deep despondency were his and he saw no hope whatever
in his quest, and indeed there was little, and soon, as he followed
the Iron Mountains till he drew nigh to the terrible regions of
Melko's abode, the greatest fears assailed him. Many poisonous
snakes were in those places and wolves roamed about, and more
fearsome still were the wandering bands of the goblins and the
Orcs -- foul broodlings of Melko who fared abroad doing his evil
work, snaring and capturing beasts, and Men, and Elves, and
dragging them to their lord.
Many times was Beren near to capture by the Orcs, and once he
escaped the jaws of a great wolf only after a combat wherein he was
armed but with an ashen club, and other perils and adventures did
he know each day of his wandering to Angamandi. Hunger and
thirst too tortured him often, and often he would have turned back
had not that been well nigh as perilous as going on; but the voice of
Tinuviel pleading with Tinwelint echoed in his heart, and at night
time it seemed to him that his heart heard her sometimes weeping
softly for him far away in the woodlands of her home: -- and this
was indeed true.
One day he was driven by great hunger to search amid a
deserted camping of some Orcs for scraps of food, but some
of these returned unawares and took him prisoner, and they
tormented him but did not slay him, for their captain seeing his
strength, worn though he was with hardships, thought that Melko
might perchance be pleasured if he was brought before him and
might set him to some heavy thrall-work in his mines or in his



smithies. So came it that Beren was dragged before Melko, and he
bore a stout heart within him nonetheless, for it was a belief among
his father's kindred that the power of Melko would not abide for
ever, but the Valar would hearken at last to the tears of the
Noldoli, and would arise and bind Melko and open Valinor once
more to the weary Elves, and great joy should come back upon
Earth.
Melko however looking upon him was wroth, asking how a
Gnome, a thrall by birth of his, had dared to fare away into the
woods unbidden, but Beren answered that he was no runagate but
came of a kindred of Gnomes that dwelt in Aryador and mingled
much there among the folk of Men. Then was Melko yet more
angry, for he sought ever to destroy the friendship and intercourse
of Elves and Men, and said that evidently here was a plotter of
deep treacheries against Melko's lordship, and one worthy of the
tortures of the Balrogs; but Beren seeing his peril answered:
"Think not, 0 most mighty Ainu Melko, Lord of the World, that
this can be true, for an it were then should I not be here unaided
and alone. No friendship has Beren son of Egnor for the kindred
of Men; nay indeed, wearying utterly of the lands infested by
that folk he has wandered out of Aryador. Many a great tale
has my father made to me aforetime of thy splendour and glory,
wherefore, albeit I am no renegade thrall, I do desire nothing so
much as to serve thee in what small manner I may," and Beren said
therewith that he was a great trapper of small animals and a snarer
of birds, and had become lost in the hills in these pursuits until
after much wandering he had come into strange lands, and even
had not the Orcs seized him he would indeed have had no other
rede of safety but to approach the majesty of Ainu Melko and beg
him to grant him some humble office -- as a winner of meats for his
table perchance.
Now the Valar must have inspired that speech, or perchance it
was a spell of cunning words cast on him in compassion by
Gwendeling, for indeed it saved his life, and Melko marking his
hardy frame believed him, and was willing to accept him as a thrall
of his kitchens. Flattery savoured ever sweet in the nostrils of that
Ainu, and for all his unfathomed wisdom many a lie of those
whom he despised deceived him, were they clothed sweetly in
words of praise; therefore now he gave orders for Beren to be
made a thrall of Tevildo Prince of Cats*. Now Tevildo was a
mighty cat -- the mightiest of all -- and possessed of an evil sprite, as
some say, and he was in Melko's constant following; and that cat
had all cats subject to him, and he and his subjects were the
chasers and getters of meat for Melko's table and for his frequent
feasts. Wherefore is it that there is hatred still between the Elves
and all cats even now when Melko rules no more, and his beasts are
become of little account.

* Footnote in the manuscript: Tifil (Bridhon) Miaugion or Tevildo
  (Vardo) Meoita.

When therefore Beren was led away to the halls of Tevildo, and
these were not utterly distant from the place of Melko's throne, he
was much afraid, for he had not looked for such a turn in things,
and those halls were ill-lighted and were full of growling and of
monstrous purrings in the dark. All about shone cats' eyes glowing
like green lamps or red or yellow where Tevildo's thanes sat
waving and lashing their beautiful tails, but Tevildo himself sat at
their head and he was a mighty cat and coal-black and evil to look
upon. His eyes were long and very narrow and slanted, and
gleamed both red and green, but his great grey whiskers were as
stout and as sharp as needles. His purr was like the roll of drums
and his growl like thunder, but when he yelled in wrath it turned
the blood cold, and indeed small beasts and birds were frozen as to
stone, or dropped lifeless often at the very sound. Now Tevildo
seeing Beren narrowed his eyes until they seemed to shut, and
said: "I smell dog", and he took dislike to Beren from that
moment. Now Beren had been a lover of hounds in his own wild
home.
"Why," said Tevildo, "do ye dare to bring such a creature
before me, unless perchance it is to make meat of him?" But those
who led Beren said: "Nay, 'twas the word of Melko that this
unhappy Elf wear out his life as a catcher of beasts and birds in
Tevildo's employ." Then indeed did Tevildo screech in scorn and
said: "Then in sooth was my lord asleep or his thoughts were
settled elsewhere, for what use think ye is a child of the Eldar to aid
the Prince of Cats and his thanes in the catching of birds or of
beasts -- as well had ye brought some clumsy-footed Man, for none
are there either of Elves or Men that can vie with us in our
pursuit." Nonetheless he set Beren to a test, and he bade him go
catch three mice, "for my hall is infested with them," said he. This
indeed was not true, as might be imagined, yet a certain few there
were -- a very wild, evil, and magic kind that dared to dwell there in
dark holes, but they were larger than rats and very fierce, and
Tevildo harboured them for his own private sport and suffered
not their numbers to dwindle.

Three days did Beren hunt them, but having nothing wherewith
to devise a trap (and indeed he did not lie to Melko saying that he
had cunning in such contrivances) he hunted in vain getting
nothing better than a bitten finger for all his labour. Then was
Tevildo scornful and in great anger, but Beren got no harm of him
or his thanes at that time because of Melko's bidding other than
a few scratches. Evil however were his days thereafter in the
dwellings of Tevildo. They made him a scullion, and his days
passed miserably in the washing of floors and vessels, in the
scrubbing of tables and the hewing of wood and the drawing of
water. Often too would he be set to the turning of spits whereon
birds and fat mice were daintily roasted for the cats, yet seldom
did he get food or sleep himself, and he became haggard and
unkempt, and wished often that never straying out of Hisi1ome he
had not even caught sight of the vision of Tinuviel.
Now that fair maiden wept for a very great while after Beren's
departure and danced no more about the woods, and Dairon grew
angry and could not understand her, but she had grown to love the
face of Beren peeping through the branches and the crackle of his
feet as they followed her through the wood; and his voice that
called wistfully "Tinuviel, Tinuviel" across the stream before her
father's doors she longed to hear again, and she would not now
dance when Beren was fled to the evil halls of Melko and maybe
had already perished. So bitter did this thought become at last that
that most tender maiden went to her mother, for to her father she
dared not go nor even suffer him to see her weep.
"0 Gwendeling, my mother," said she, "tell me of thy magic, if
thou canst, how doth Beren fare. Is all yet well with him?" "Nay,"
said Gwendeling. "He lives indeed, but in an evil captivity, and
hope is dead in his heart, for behold, he is a slave in the power of
Tevildo Prince of Cats."
"Then," said Tinuviel, "I must go and succour him, for none
else do I know that will."
Now Gwendeling laughed not, for in many matters she was
wise, and forewise, yet it was a thing unthought in a mad dream
that any Elf, still less a maiden, the daughter of the king, should
fare untended to the halls of Melko, even in those earlier days
before the Battle of Tears when Melko's power had not grown
great and he veiled his designs and spread his net of lies. Wherefore
did Gwendeling softly bid her not to speak such folly; but Tinuviel
said: "Then must thou plead with my father for aid, that he send


warriors to Angamandi and demand the freedom of Beren from
Ainu Melko."
This indeed did Gwendeling do, of love for her daughter, and
so wroth was Tinwelint that Tinuviel wished that never had her
desire been made known; and Tinwelint bade her nor speak nor
think of Beren more, and swore he would slay him an he trod those
halls again. Now then Tinuviel pondered much what she might
do, and going to Dairon she begged him to aid her, or indeed
to fare away with her to Angamandi an he would; but Dairon
thought with little love of Beren, and he said: "Wherefore should
I go into the direst peril that there is in the world for the sake
of a wandering Gnome of the woods? Indeed I have no love for
him, for he has destroyed our play together, our music and our
dancing." But Dairon moreover told the king of what Tinuviel
had desired of him -- and this he did not of ill intent but fearing lest
Tinuviel fare away to her death in the madness of her heart.
Now' when Tinwelint heard this he called Tinuviel and said:
"Wherefore, 0 maiden of mine, does thou not put this folly away
from thee, and seek to do my bidding?" But Tinuviel would not
answer, and the king bade her promise him that neither would she
think more on Beren, nor would she seek in her folly to follow after
him to the evil lands whether alone or tempting any of his folk with
her. But Tinuviel said that the first she would not promise and the
second only in part, for she would not tempt any of the folk of
the woodlands to go with her.
Then was her father mightily angry, and beneath his anger not a
little amazed and afraid, for he loved Tinuviel; but this was the
plan he devised, for he might not shut his daughter far ever in the
caverns where only a dim and flickering light ever came. Now
above the portals of his cavernous hall was a steep slope falling to
the river, and there grew mighty beeches; and one there was that
was named Hirilorn, the Queen of Trees, for she was very mighty,
and so deeply cloven was her bole that it seemed as if three shafts
sprang from the ground together and they were of like size, round
and straight, and their grey rind was smooth as silk, unbroken by
branch or twig for a very great height above men's heads.
Now Tinwelint let build high up in that strange tree, as high as
men could fashion their longest ladders to reach, a little house of
wood, and it was above the first branches and was sweetly veiled in
leaves. Now that house had three corners and three windows in
each wall, and at each corner was one of the shafts of Hirilorn.
There then did Tinwelint bid Tinuviel dwell until she would


consent to be wise, and when she fared up the ladders of tall pine
these were taken from beneath and no way had she to get down
again. All that she required was brought to her, and folk would
scale the ladders and give her food or whatever else she wished for,
and then descending again take away the ladders, and the king
promised death to any who left one leaning against the tree or who
should try by stealth to place one there at night. A guard therefore
was set nigh the tree's foot, and yet came Dairon often thither in
sorrow at what he had brought to pass, for he was lonely without
Tinuviel; but Tinuviel had at first much pleasure in her house
among the leaves, and would gaze out of her little window while
Dairon made his sweetest melodies beneath.
But one night a dream of the Valar came to Tinuviel and she
dreamt of Beren, and her heart said: "Let me be gone to seek him
whom all others have forgot"; and waking, the moon was shining
through the trees, and she pondered very deeply how she might
escape. Now Tinuviel daughter of Gwendeling was not ignorant
of magics or of spells, as may well be believed, and after much
thought she devised a plan. The next day she asked those who
came to her to bring, if they would, some of the clearest water of
the stream below, "but this," she said, "must be drawn at midnight
in a silver bowl, and brought to my hand with no word spoken,"
and after that she desired wine to be brought, "but this," she said,
"must be borne hither in a flagon of gold at noon, and he who
brings it must sing as he comes," and they did as they were bid,
but Tinwelint was not told.
Then said Tinuviel, "Go now to my mother and say to her that
her daughter desires a spinning wheel to pass her weary hours,"
but Dairon secretly she begged fashion her a tiny loom, and he
did this even in the little house of Tinuviel in the tree. "But
wherewith will you spin and wherewith weave?" said he; and
Tinuviel answered: "With spells and magics," but Dairon knew
not her design, nor said more to the king or to Gwendeling.
Now Tinuviel took the wine and water when she was alone, and
singing a very magical song the while, she mingled them together,
and as they lay in the bowl of gold she sang a song of growth, and as
they lay in the bowl of silver she sang another song, and the names
of all the tallest and longest things upon Earth were set in that
song; the beards of the Indravangs, the tail of Karkaras, the body
of Glorund, the bole of Hirilorn, and the sword of Nan she
named, nor did she forget the chain Angainu that Aule and Tulkas
made or the neck of Gilim the giant, and last and longest of all she



spake of the hair of Uinen the lady of the sea that is spread through
all the waters. Then did she lave her head with the mingled water
and wine, and as she did so she sang a third song, a song of
uttermost sleep, and the hair of Tinuviel which was dark and finer
than the most delicate threads of twilight began suddenly to grow
very fast indeed, and after twelve hours had passed it nigh filled
the little room, and then Tinuviel was very pleased and she lay
down to rest; and when she awoke the room was full as with a black
mist and she was deep hidden under it, and lo! her hair was
trailing out of the windows and blowing about the tree boles in the
morning. Then with difficulty she found her little shears and cut
the threads of that growth nigh to her head, and after that her hair
grew only as it was wont before.
Then was the labour of Tinuviel begun, and though she laboured
with the deftness of an Elf long was she spinning and longer
weaving still, and did any come and hail her from below she bid
them be.gone, saying: "I am abed, and desire only to sleep," and
Dairon was much amazed, and called often up to her, but she did
not answer.
Now of that cloudy hair Tinuviel wove a robe of misty black
soaked with drowsiness more magical far than even that one that
her mother had worn and danced in long long ago before the Sun
arose, and therewith she covered her garments of shimmering
white, and magic slumbers filled the airs about her; but of what
remained she twisted a mighty strand, and this she fastened to the
bole of the tree within her house, and then was her labour ended,
and she looked out of her window westward to the river. Already
the sunlight was fading in the trees, and as dusk filled the woods
she began a song very soft and low, and as she sung she cast out her
long hair from the window so that its slumbrous mist touched the
heads and faces of the guards below, and they listening to her voice
fell suddenly into a fathomless sleep. Then did Tinuviel clad in
her garments of darkness slip down that rope of hair light as a
squirrel, and away she danced to the bridge, and before the
bridgewards could cry out she was among them dancing; and as
the hem of her black robe touched them they fell asleep, and
Tinuviel fled very far away as fast as her dancing feet would flit.
Now when the escape of Tinuviel reached the ears of Tinwelint
great was his mingled grief and wrath, and all his court was in
uproar, and all the woods ringing with the search, but Tinuviel
was already far away drawing nigh to the gloomy foothills where
the Mountains of Night begin; and 'tis said that Dairon following

after her became utterly lost, and came never back to Elfinesse,
but turned towards Palisor, and there plays' subtle magic musics
still, wistful and lonely in the woods and forests of the south.
Yet ere long as Tinuviel went forward a sudden dread overtook
her at the thought of what she had dared to do and what lay before;
then did she turn back for a while, and she wept, wishing Dairon
was with her, and it is said that he indeed was not far off, but was
wandering lost in the great pines, the Forest of Night, where
afterward Turin slew Beleg by mishap.' Nigh was Tinuviel now to
those places, but she entered not that dark region, and regaining
heart pressed on, and by reason of the greater magic of her being
and because of the spell of wonder and of sleep that fared about her
no such dangers assailed her as did Beren before; yet was it a long
and evil and weary journey for a maiden to tread.
Now is it to be told to thee, Eriol, that in those days Tevildo had
but one trouble in the world, and that was the kindred of the Dogs.
Many indeed of these were neither friends nor foes of the Cats, for
they had become subject to Melko and were as savage and cruel as
any of his animals; indeed from the most cruel and most savage he
bred the race of wolves, and they were very dear indeed to him.
Was it not the great grey wolf Karkaras Knife-fang, father of
wolves, who guarded the gates of Angamandi in those days and
long had done so? Many were there however who would neither
bow to Melko nor live wholly in fear of him, but dwelt either in the
dwellings of Men and guarded them from much evil that had
otherwise befallen them or roamed the woods of Hisi1ome or
passing the mountainous places fared even at times into the region
of Artanor and the lands beyond and to the south.
Did ever any of these view Tevildo or any of his thanes or
subjects, then there was a great baying and a mighty chase, and
albeit seldom was any cat slain by reason of their skill in climbing
and in hiding and because of the protecting might of Melko, yet
was great enmity between them, and some of those hounds were
held in dread among the cats. None however did Tevildo fear, for
he was as strong as any among them, and more agile and more
swift save only than Huan Captain of Dogs. So swift was Huan
that on a time he had tasted the fur of Tevildo, and though
Tevildo had paid him for that with a gash from his great claws, yet
was the pride of the Prince of Cats unappeased and he lusted to do
a great harm to Huan of the Dogs.
Great therefore was the good fortune that befell Tinuviel in
meeting with Huan in the woods, although at first she was mortally

afraid and fled. But Huan overtook her in two leaps, and speaking
soft and deep the tongue af the Lost Elves he bid her be not afraid,
and "Wherefore," said he, "do I see an Elfin maiden, and one most
fair, wandering alone so nigh to the abodes of the Ainu of Evil?
Knowst thou not these are very evil places to be in, little one, even
with a companion, and they are death to the lonely?"
"That know I," said she, "and I am not here for the love of
wayfaring, but I seek only Beren."
"What knowest thou then," said Huan, "of Beren -- or indeed
meanest thou Beren son of the huntsman of the Elves, Egnor
bo-Rimion, a friend of mine since very ancient days?"
"Nay, I know not even whether my Beren be thy friend, for I
seek only Beren from beyond the Bitter Hills, whom I knew in the
woods near to my father's home. Now is he gone, and my mother
Gwendeling says of her wisdom that he is a thrall in the cruel
house of Tevildo Prince of Cats; and whether this be true or yet
worse be now befallen him I do not know, and I go to discover him
-- though plan I have none."
"Then will I make thee one," said Huan, "but do thou trust in
me, for I am Huan of the Dogs, chief foe of Tevildo. Rest thee
now with me a while within the shadows of the wood, and I will
think deeply."
Then Tinuviel did as he said, and indeed she slept long while
Huan watched, for she was very weary. But after a while awakening
she said: "Lo, I have tarried over long. Come, what is thy thought,
0 Huan?"
And Huan said: "A dark and difficult matter is this, and no
other rede can I devise but this. Creep now if thou hast the heart to
the abiding place of that Prince while the sun is high, and Tevildo
and the most of his household drowze upon the terraces before his
gates. There discover in what manner thou mayst whether Beren
be indeed within, as thy mother said to thee. Now I will lie not far
hence in the woods, and thou wilt do me a pleasure and aid thy
own desires an going before Tevildo, be Beren there or be he not,
thou tellest him how thou hast stumbled upon Huan of the Dogs
lying sick in the woods at this place. Do not indeed direct him
hither, for thou must guide him, if it may be, thyself. Then wilt
thou see what I contrive for thee and for Tevildo. Methinks that
bearing such tidings Tevildo will not entreat thee ill within his
halls nor seek to hold thee there."
In this way did Huan design both to do Tevildo a hurt, or
perchance if it might so be to slay him, and to aid Beren whom he

guessed in truth to be that Beren son of Egnor whom the hounds of
Hisilome loved. Indeed hearing the name of Gwendeling and
knowing thereby that this maiden was a princess of the woodland
fairies he was eager to aid her, and his heart warmed to her
sweetness.
Now Tinuviel taking heart' stole near to the halls of Tevildo,
and Huan wondered much at her courage, following unknown to
her, as far as he might for the success of his design. At length
however she passed beyond his sight, and leaving the shelter of the
trees came to a region of-long grass dotted with bushes that sloped
ever upward toward a shoulder of the hills. Now upon that rocky
spur the sun shone, but over all the hills and mountains at its back
a black cloud brooded, for there was Angamandi; and Tinuviel
fared on not daring to look up at that gloom, for fear oppressed
her, and as she went the ground rose and the grass grew more scant
and rock-strewn until it came even to a cliff, sheer of one side, and
there upon a stony shelf was the castle of Tevildo. No pathway led
thereto, and the place where it stood fell towards the woods in
terrace after terrace so that none might reach its gates save by
many great leaps, and those became ever steeper as the castle drew
more nigh. Few were the windows of the house and upon the
ground there were none -- indeed the very gate was in the air where
in the dwellings of Men are wont to be the windows of the upper
floor; but the roof had many wide and flat spaces open to the sun.
Now does Tinuviel wander disconsolate upon the lowest terrace
and look in dread at the dark house upon the hill, when behold,
she came at a bend in the rock upon a lone cat lying in the sun and
seemingly asleep. As she approached he opened a yellow eye and
blinked at her, and thereupon rising and stretching he stepped up
to her and said: "Whither away, little maid -- dost not know that
you trespass on the sunning ground of his highness Tevildo and
his thanes?"
Now Tinuviel was very much afraid, but she made as bold an
answer as she was able, saying: "That know I, my lord" -- and this
pleased the old cat greatly, for he was in truth only Tevildo's
doorkeeper -- "but I would indeed of your goodness be brought to
Tevildo's presence now -- nay, even if he sleeps," said she, for the
doorkeeper lashed his tail in astonished refusal. "I have words of
immediate import for his private ear. Lead me to him, my lord,"
she pleaded, and thereat the cat purred so loudly that she dared to
stroke his ugly head, and this was much larger than her own, being
greater than that of any dog that is now on Earth. Thus entreated,



Umuiyan, for such was his name, said: "Come then with me," and
seizing Tinuviel suddenly by her garments at the shoulder to her
great terror he tossed her upon his back and leaped upon the
second terrace. There he stopped, and as Tinuviel scrambled
from his back he said: "Well is it for thee that this afternoon my
lord Tevildo lieth upon this lowly terrace far from his house, for a
great weariness and a desire for sleep has come upon me, so that I
fear me I should not be willing to carry thee much farther"; now
Tinuviel was robed in her robe of sable mist.
So saying Umuiyan* yawned mightily and stretched himself
before he led her along that terrace to an open space, where upon a
wide couch of baking stones lay the horrible form of Tevildo
himself, and both his evil eyes were shut. Going up to him the
doorcat Umuiyan spoke in his ear softly, saying: "A maiden awaits
thy pleasure, my lord, who hath news of importance to deliver to
thee, nor would she take my refusal." Then did Tevildo angrily
lash his tail, half opening an eye -- "What is it -- be swift," said he,
"for this is no hour to come desiring audience of Tevildo Prince of
Cats."
"Nay, lord," said Tinuviel trembling, "be not angry; nor do I
think that thou wilt when thou hearst, yet is the matter such that
it were better not even whispered here where the breezes blow,"
and Tinuviel cast a glance as it were of apprehension toward the
woods.
"Nay, get thee gone," said Tevildo, "thou smellest of dog, and
what news of good came ever to a cat from a fairy that had had
dealings with the dogs?"
"Why, sir, that I smell of dogs is no matter of wonder, for I have
just escaped from one -- and it is indeed of a certain very mighty
dog whose name thou knowest that I would speak." Then up sat
Tevildo and opened his eyes, and he looked all about him, and
stretched three times, and at last bade the doorcat lead Tinuviel
within; and Umuiyan caught her upon his back as before. Now
was Tinuviel in the sorest dread, for having gained what she
desired, a chance of entering Tevildo's stronghold and maybe of
discovering whether Beren were there, she had no plan more, and
knew not what would become of her -- indeed had she been able
she would have fled; yet now do those cats begin to ascend the
terraces towards the castle, and one leap does Umuiyan make
bearing Tinuviel upwards and then another, and at the third he
stumbled so that Tinuviel cried out in fear, and Tevildo said:
"What ails thee, Umuiyan, thou clumsy-foot? It is time that thou
left my employ if age creeps on thee so swiftly."

* Written above Umuiyan here is the name Gumniow, enclosed within
brackets.

But Umuiyan said:
"Nay, lord, I know not what it is, but a mist is before mine
eyes and my head is heavy," and he staggered as one drunk, so that
Tinuviel slid from his back, and thereupon he laid him down as if
in a dead sleep; but Tevildo was wroth and seized Tinuviel and
none too gently, and himself bore her to the gates. Then with a
mighty leap he sprang within, and bidding that maiden alight he
set up a yell that echoed fearsomely in the dark ways and passages.
Forthwith they hastened to him from within, and some he bid
descend to Umuiyan and bind him and cast him from the rocks
"on the northern side where they fall most sheer, for he is of no use
more to me," he said, "for age has robbed him of his sureness of
foot"; and Tinuviel quaked to hear the ruthlessness of this beast.
But even as he spake he himself yawned and stumbled as with a
sudden drowziness, and he bid others to lead Tinuviel away to a
certain chamber within, and that was the one where Tevildo was
accustomed to sit at meat with his greatest thanes. It was full of
bones and smelt evilly; no windows were there and but one door;
but a hatchway gave from it upon the great kitchens, and a red
light crept thence and dimly lit the place.
Now so adread was Tinuviel when those catfolk left her there
that she stood a moment unable to stir, but soon becoming used to
the darkness she looked about and espying the hatchway that had a
wide sill she sprang thereto, for it was not over high and she was a
nimble Elf. Now gazing therethrough, for it was ajar, she saw the
wide vaulted kitchens and the great fires that burnt there, and
those that toiled always within, and the most were cats -- but
behold, there by a great fire stooped Beren, and he was grimed
with labour, and Tinuviel sat and wept, but as yet dared nothing.
Indeed even as she sat the harsh voice of Tevildo sounded suddenly
within that chamber: "Nay, where then in Melko's name has that
mad Elf fled," and Tinuviel hearing shrank against the wall, but
Tevildo caught sight of her where she was perched and cried:
"Then the little bird sings not any more; come down or I must
fetch thee, for behold, I will not encourage the Elves to seek
audience of me in mockery."
Then partly in fear, and part in hope that her clear voice might
carry even to Beren, Tinuviel began suddenly to speak very loud
and to tell her tale so that the chambers rang; but "Hush, dear
maiden," said Tevildo, "if the matter were secret without it is not



one for bawling within." Then said Tinuviel: "Speak not thus to
me, 0 cat, mighty Lord of Cats though thou be, for am I not
Tinuviel Princess of Fairies that have stepped out of my way to do
thee a pleasure?" Now at those words, and she had shouted them
even louder than before, a great crash was heard in the kitchens as
of a number of vessels of metal and earthenware let suddenly fall"
but Tevildo snarled: "There trippeth that fool Beren the Elf.
Melko rid me of such folk" -- yet Tinuviel, guessing that Beren-had
heard and been smitten with astonishment, put aside her fears and
repented her daring no longer. Tevildo nonetheless was very
wroth at her haughty words, and had he not been minded first to
discover what good he might get from her tale, it had fared ill with
Tinuviel straightway. Indeed from that moment was she in great
peril, for Melko and all his vassals held Tinwelint and his folk as
outlaws, and great was their joy to ensnare them and cruelly
entreat them, so that much favour would Tevildo have gained had
he taken Tinuviel before his lord. Indeed, so soon as she named
herself, this did he purpose to do when his own business had
been done, but of a truth his wits were drowzed that day, and he
forgot to marvel more why Tinuviel sat perched upon the sill of
the hatchway; nor did he think more of Beren, for his mind was
bent only to the tale Tinuviel bore to him. Wherefore said he,
dissembling his evil mood, "Nay, Lady, be not angry, but come,
delay whetteth my desire -- what is it that thou hast for my ears, for
they twitch already."
But Tinuviel said: "There is a great beast, rude and violent, and
his name is Huan" -- and at that name Tevildo's back curved, and
his hair bristled and crackled, and the light of his eyes was red --
"and," she went on, "it seems to me a shame that such a brute be
suffered to infest the woods so nigh even to the abode of the
powerful Prince of Cats, my lord Tevildo"; but Tevildo said:
"Nor is he suffered, and cometh never there save it be by stealth."
"Howso that may be," said Tinuviel, "there he is now, yet
methinks that at last may his [life] be brought utterly to an end, for
lo, as I was going through the woods I saw where a great animal lay
upon the ground moaning as in sickness -- and behold, it was
Huan, and some evil spell or malady has him in its grip, and still he
lies helpless in a dale not a mile westward in the woods from this
hall. Now with this perhaps I would not have troubled your ears,
had not the brute when I approached to succour him snarled upon
me and essayed to bite me, and meseems that such a creature
deserves whatever come to him."


Now all this that Tinuviel spake was a great lie in whose
devising Huan had guided her, and maidens of the Eldar are not
wont to fashion lies; yet have I never heard that any of the Eldar
blamed her therein nor Beren afterward, and neither do I, for
Tevildo was an evil cat and Melko the wickedest of all beings, and
Tinuviel was in dire peril at their hands. Tevildo however, himself
a great and skilled liar, was so deeply versed in the lies and
subtleties of all the beasts and creatures that he seldom knew
whether to believe what was said to him or not, and was wont to
disbelieve all things save those he wished to believe true, and so
was he often deceived by the more honest. Now the story of Huan
and his helplessness so pleased him that he was fain to believe it
true, and determined at least to test it; yet at first he feigned
indifference, saying this was a small matter for such secrecy and
might have been spoken outside without further ado. But Tinuviel
said she had not thought that Tevildo Prince of Cats needed to
learn that the ears of Huan heard the slightest sounds a league
away, and the voice of a cat further than any sound else.
Now therefore Tevildo sought to discover from Tinuviel under
pretence of mistrusting her tale where exactly Huan might be
found, but she made only vague answers, seeing in this her only
hope of escaping from the castle, and at length Tevildo, overcome
by curiosity and threatening evil things if she should prove false,
summoned two of his thanes to him, and one was Oikeroi, a fierce
and warlike cat. Then did the three set out with Tinuviel from that
place, but Tinuviel took off her magical garment of black and
folded it, so that for all its size and density it appeared no more
than the smallest kerchief (for so was. she able), and thus was she
borne down the terraces upon the back of Oikeroi without mishap,
and no drowziness assailed her bearer. Now crept they through
the woods in the direction she had named, and soon does Tevildo
smell dog and bristles and lashes his great tail, but after he climbs a
lofty tree and looks down from thence into that dale that Tinuviel
had shown to them. There he does indeed see the great form of
Huan lying prostrate groaning and moaning, and he comes down
in much glee and haste, and indeed in his eagerness he forgets
Tinuviel, who now in great fear for Huan lies hidden in a bank of
fern. The design of Tevildo and his two companions was to enter
that dale silently from different quarters and so come all suddenly
upon Huan unawares and slay him, or if he were too stricken to
make fight to make sport of him and torment him. This did they
now, but even as they leapt out upon him Huan sprang up into the

air with a mighty baying, and his jaws closed in the back close to
the neck of that cat Oikeroi, and Oikeroi died; but the other thane
fled howling up a great tree, and so was Tevildo left alone face to
face with Huan, and such an encounter was not much to his mind,
yet was Huan upon him too swiftly for flight, and they fought
fiercely in that glade, and the noise that Tevildo made was very
hideous; but at length Huan had him by the throat, and that cat
might well have perished had not his claws as he struck out blindly
pierced Huan's eye. Then did Huan give tongue, and Tevildo
screeching fearsomely got himself loose with a great wrench and
leapt up a tall and smooth tree that stood by, even as his companion
had done. Despite his grievous hurt Huan now leaps beneath that
tree baying mightily, and Telvido curses him and casts evil words
upon him from above.
Then said Huan: "Lo, Tevildo, these are the words of Huan
whom thou thoughtest to catch and slay helpless as the miserable
mice it is thy wont to hunt -- stay for ever up thy lonely tree and
bleed to death of thy wounds, or come down and feel again my
teeth. But if neither are to thy liking, then tell me where is
Tinuviel Princess of Fairies and Beren son of Egnor, for these are
my friends. Now these shall be set as ransom against thee -- though
it be valuing thee far over thy worth."
"As for that cursed Elf, she lies whimpering in the ferns yonder,
an my ears mistake not," said Tevildo, "and Beren methinks is
being soundly scratched by Miaule my cook in the kitchens of my
castle for his clumsiness there an hour ago."
"Then let them be given to me in safety," said Huan, "and thou
mayest return thyself to thy halls and lick thyself unharmed."
"Of a surety my thane who is here with me shall fetch them for
thee," said Tevildo, but growled Huan: "Ay, and fetch also all thy
tribe and the hosts of the Orcs and the plagues of Melko. Nay, I
am no fool; rather shalt thou give Tinuviel a token and she shall
fetch Beren, or thou shalt stay here if thou likest not the other
way." Then was Tevildo forced to cast down his golden collar -- a
token no cat dare dishonour, but Huan said: "Nay, more yet is
needed, for this will arouse all thy folk to seek thee," and this
Tevildo knew and had hoped. So was it that in the end weariness
and hunger and fear prevailed upon that proud cat, a prince of the
service of Melko, to reveal the secret of the cats and the spell that
Melko had entrusted to him; and those were words of magic
whereby the stones of his evil house were held together, and
whereby he held all beasts of the catfolk under his sway, filling

them with an evil power beyond their nature; for long has it been
said that Tevildo was an evil fay in beastlike shape. When therefore
he had told it Huan laughed till the woods rang, for he knew that
the days of the power of the cats were over.
Now sped Tinuviel with the golden collar of Tevildo back to the
lowest terrace before the gates, and standing she spake the spell in
her clear voice. Then behold, the air was filled with the voices of
cats and the house of Tevildo shook; and there came therefrom a
host of indwellers and they were shrunk to puny size and were
afeared of Tinuviel, who waving the collar of Tevildo spake before
them certain of the words that Tevildo had said in her hearing to
Huan, and they cowered before her. But she said: "Lo, let all
those of the folk of the Elves or of the children of Men that are
bound within these halls be brought forth," and behold, Beren
was brought forth, but of other thralls there were none, save only
Gimli, an aged Gnome, bent in thraldom and grown blind, but
whose hearing was the keenest that has been in the world, as all
songs say. Gimli came leaning upon a stick and Beren aided him,
but Beren was clad in rags and haggard, and he had in his hand a
great knife he had caught up in the kitchen, fearing some new ill
when the house shook and all the voices of the cats were heard; but
when he beheld Tinuviel standing amid the host of cats that
shrank from her and saw the great collar of Tevildo, then was he'
amazed utterly, and knew not what to think. But Tinuviel was
very glad, and spoke saying: "0 Beren from beyond the Bitter
Hills, wilt thou now dance with me -- but let it not be here." And
she led Beren far away, and all those cats set up a howling and
wailing, so that Huan and Tevildo heard it in the woods, but none
followed or molested them, for they were afraid, and the magic of
Melko was fallen from them.
This indeed they rued afterward when Tevildo returned home
followed by his trembling comrade, for Tevildo's wrath was
terrible, and he lashed his tail and dealt blows at all who stood
nigh. Now Huan of the dogs, though it might seem a folly, when
Beren and Tinuviel came to that glade had suffered that evil
Prince to return without further war, but the great collar of gold
he had set about his own neck, and at this was Tevildo more angry
than all else, for a great magic of strength and power lay therein.
Little to Huan's liking was it that Tevildo lived still, but now no
longer did he fear the cats, and that tribe has fled before the dogs
ever since, and the dogs hold them still in scorn since the humbling
of Tevildo in the woods nigh Angamandi; and Huan has not done



any greater deed. Indeed afterward Melko heard all and he cursed
Tevildo and his folk and banished them, nor have they since that
day had lord or master or any friend, and their voices wail and
screech for their hearts are very lonely and bitter and full of loss,
yet there is only darkness therein and no kindliness.
At the time however whereof the tale tells it was Tevildo's chief
desire to recapture Beren and Tinuviel and to slay Huan, that he
might regain the spell and magic he had lost, for he was in great
fear of Melko, and he dared not seek his master's aid and reveal his
defeat and the betrayal of his spell. Unwitting of this Huan feared
those places, and was in great-dread lest those doings come swiftly
to Melko's ear, as did most things that came to pass in the world;
wherefore now Tinuviel and Beren wandered far away with Huan,
and they became great in friendship with him, and in that life
Beren grew strong again and his thraldom fell from him, and
Tinuviel loved him.
Yet wild and rugged and very lonely were those days, for never a
face of Elf or of Man did they see, and Tinuviel grew at last to long
sorely for Gwendeling her mother and the songs of sweet magic
she was used to sing to her children as twilight fell in the woodlands
by their ancient halls. Often she half fancied she heard the flute of
Dairon her brother, in pleasant glades' wherein they sojourned,
and her heart grew heavy. At length she said to Beren and to
Huan: "I must return home," and now is it Beren's heart that is
overcast with sorrow, for he loved that life in the woods with the
dogs (for by now many others had become joined to Huan), yet
not if Tinuviel were not there.
Nonetheless said he: "Never may I go back with thee to the land
of Artanor -- nor come there ever after to seek thee, sweet Tinuviel,
save only bearing a Silmaril; nor may that ever now be achieved,
for am I not a fugitive from the very halls of Melko, and in danger
of the most evil pains do any of his servants spy me." Now this he
said in the grief of his heart at parting with Tinuviel, and she was
tornin mind, abiding not the thought of leaving Beren nor yet of
living ever thus in exile. So sat she a great while in sad thought and
she spoke not, but Beren sat nigh and at length said: "Tinuviel,
one thing only can we do -- go get a Silmaril"; and she sought
thereupon Huan, asking his aid and advice, but he was very grave
and saw nothing but folly in the matter. Yet in the end Tinuviel
begged of him the fell of Oikeroi that he slew in the affray of the
glade; now Oikeroi was a very mighty cat and Huan carried that
fell with him as a trophy.


Now doth Tinuviel put forth her skill and fairy-magic, and she
sews Beren into this fell and makes him to the likeness of a great
cat, and she teaches him how to sit and sprawl, to step and bound
and trot in the semblance of a cat, till Huan's very whiskers
bristled at the sight, and thereat Beren and Tinuviel laughed.
Never however could Beren learn to screech or wail or to purr like
any cat that ever walked, nor could Tinuviel awaken a glow in the
dead eyes of the catskin -- "but we must put up with that," said she,
"and thou hast the air of a very noble cat if thou but hold thy
tongue."
Then did they bid farewell to Huan and set out for the halls of
Melko by easy journeys, for Beren was in great discomfort and
heat within the fur of Oikeroi, and Tinuviel's heart became lighter
awhile than it had been for long, and she stroked Beren or pulled
his tail, and Beren was angry because he could not lash it in answer
as fiercely as he wished. At length however they drew near to
Angamandi, as indeed the rumblings and deep noises, and the
sound of mighty hammerings of ten thousand smiths labouring
unceasingly, declared to them. Nigh were the sad chambers where
the thrall-Noldoli laboured bitterly under the Orcs and goblins
of the hills, and here the gloom and darkness was great so that
their hearts fell, but Tinuviel arrayed her once more in her dark
garment of deep sleep. Now the gates of Angamandi were of iron
wrought hideously and set with knives and spikes, and before
them lay the greatest wolf the world has ever seen, even Karkaras
Knife-fang who had never slept; and Karkaras growled when he
saw Tinuviel approach, but of the cat he took not much heed, for
he thought little of cats and they were ever passing in and out.
"Growl not, 0 Karkaras," said she, "for I go to seek my lord
Melko, and this thane of Tevildo goeth with me as escort." Now
the dark robe veiled all her shimmering beauty, and Karkaras was
not much troubled in mind, yet nonetheless he approached as was
his wont to snuff the air of her, and the sweet fragrance of the
Eldar that garment might not hide. Therefore straightway did
Tinuviel begin a magic dance, and the black strands of her dark
veil she cast in his eyes so that his legs shook with a drowziness and
he rolled over and was asleep. But not until he was fast in dreams
of great chases in the woods of Hisilome when he was yet a whelp
did Tinuviel cease, and then did those twain enter that black
portal, and winding down many shadowy ways they stumbled at
length into the very presence of Melko.
In that gloom Beren passed well enough as a very thane of



Tevildo, and indeed Oikeroi had aforetime been much about the
halls of Melko, so that none heeded him and he slunk under the
very chair of the Ainu unseen, but the adders and evil things there
lying set him in great fear so that he durst not move.
Now all this fell out most fortunately, for had Tevildo been with
Melko their deceit would have been discovered -- and indeed of
that danger they had thought, not knowing that Tevildo sat now in
his halls and knew not what to do should his discomfiture become
noised in Angamandi; but behold, Melko espieth Tinuviel and
saith: "Who art thou that flittest about my halls like a bat? How
camest thou in, for of a surety thou dost not belong here?"
"Nay, that I do not yet," saith Tinuviel, "though I may per-
chance hereafter, of thy goodness, my lord Melko. Knowest thou
not that I am Tinuviel daughter of Tinwelint the outlaw, and he
hath driven me from his halls, for he is an overbearing Elf and I
give not my love at his command."
Now in truth was Melko amazed that the daughter of Tinwelint
came thus of her free will to his dwelling, Angamandi the terrible,
and suspecting something untoward he asked what was her desire:
"for knowest thou not," saith he, "that there is no love here for thy
father or his folk, nor needst thou hope for soft words and good
cheer from me."
"So hath my father said," saith she, "but wherefore need I
believe him? Behold, I have a skill of subtle dances, and 1 would
dance now before you, my lord, for then methinks I might readily
be granted some humble corner of your halls wherein to dwell
until such times as you should eall for the little dancer Tinuviel to
lighten your cares."
"Nay," saith Melko, "such things are little to my mind; but as
thou hast come thus far to dance, dance, and after we will see,"
and with that he leered horribly, for his dark mind pondered some
evil.
Then did Tinuviel begin such a dance as neither she nor any
other sprite or fay or elf danced ever before or has done since, and
after a while even Melko's gaze was held in wonder. Round the hall
she fared, swift as a swallow, noiseless as a bat, magically beautiful
as only Tinuviel ever was, and now she was at Melko's side, now
before him, now behind, and her misty draperies touched his face
and waved before his eyes, and the folk that sat about the walls or
stood in that place were whelmed one by one in sleep, falling down
into deep dreams of all that their ill hearts desired.
Beneath his chair the adders lay like stones, and the wolves

before his feet yawned and slumbered, and Melko gazed on
enchanted, but he did not sleep. Then began Tinuviel to dance
a yet swifter dance before his eyes, and even as she danced she sang
in a voice very low and wonderful a song which Gwendeling had
taught her long ago, a song that the youths and maidens sang
beneath the cypresses of the gardens of Lorien when the Tree
of Gold had waned and Silpion was gleaming. The voices of
nightingales were in it, and many subtle odours seemed to fill
the air of that noisome place as she trod the floor lightly as a feather
in the wind; nor has any voice or sight of such beauty ever again
been seen there, and Ainu Melko for all his power and majesty
succumbed to the magic of that Elf-maid, and indeed even the
eyelids of Lorien had grown heavy had he been there to see. Then
did Melko fall forward drowzed, and sank at last in utter sleep
down from his chair upon the floor, and his iron crown rolled
away.
Suddenly Tinuviel ceased. In the hall no sound was heard save
of slumbrous breath; even Beren slept beneath the very seat of
Melko, but Tinuviel shook him so that he awoke at last. Then in
fear and trembling he tore asunder his disguise and freeing himself
from it leapt to his feet. Now does he draw that knife that he had
from Tevildo's kitchens and he seizes the mighty iron crown, but
Tinuviel could not move it and scarcely might the thews of Beren
avail to turn it. Great is the frenzy of their fear as in that dark hall
of sleeping evil Beren labours as noiselessly as may be to prise out a
Silmaril with his knife. Now does he loosen the great central jewel
and the sweat pours from his brow, but even as he forces it from
the crown lo! his knife snaps with a loud crack.
Tinuviel smothers a cry thereat and Beren springs away with
the one Silmaril in his hand, and the sleepers stir and Melko
groans as though ill thoughts disturbed his dreams, and a black
look comes upon his sleeping face. Content now with that one
lashing gem those twain fled desperately from the hall, stumbling
wildly down many dark passages till from the glimmering of grey
light they knew they neared the gates -- and behold! Karkaras lies
across the threshold, awake once more and watchful.
Straightway Beren thrust himself before Tinuviel although she
said him nay, and this proved in the end ill, for Tinuviel had not
e to cast her spell of slumber over the beast again, ere seeing
Beren he bared his teeth and growled angrily. "Wherefore this
surliness, Karkaras?" said Tinuviel. "Wherefore this Gnome"
who entered not and yet now issueth in haste?" quoth Knife-fang,
and with that he leapt upon Beren, who struck straight between
the wolf's eyes with his fist, catching for his throat with the other
hand.
Then Karkaras seized that hand in his dreadful jaws, and it was
the hand wherein Beren clasped the blazing Silmaril, and both
hand and jewel Karkaras bit off and took into his red maw. Great
was the agony of Beren and the fear and anguish of Tinuviel, yet
even as they expect to feel the teeth of the wolf a new thing strange
and terrible comes to pass. Behold now that Silmaril blazeth with
a white and hidden fire of its own nature and is possessed of a fierce
and holy magic -- for did it not come from Valinor and the blessed
realms, being fashioned with spells of the Gods and Gnomes
before evil came there; and it doth not tolerate the touch of evil
flesh or of unholy hand. Now cometh it into the foul body of
Karkaras, and suddenly that beast is burnt with a terrible anguish
and the howling of his pain is ghastly to hear as it echoeth in those
rocky ways, so that all that sleeping court within awakes. Then did
Tinuviel and Beren flee like the wind from the gates, yet was
Karkaras far before them raging and in madness as a beast pursued
by Balrogs; and after when they might draw breath Tinuviel wept
over the maimed arm of Beren kissing it often, so that behold it
bled not, and pain left it, and was healed by the tender healing
of her love; yet was Beren ever after surnamed among all folk
Ermabwed the One-handed, which in the language of the Lonely
Isle is Elmavoite.
Now however must they bethink them of escape -- if such may
be their fortune, and Tinuviel wrapped part of her dark mantle
about Beren, and so for a while flitting by dusk and dark amid the
hills they were seen by none, albeit Melko had raised all his Orcs of
terror against them; and his fury at the rape of that jewel was
greater than the Elves had ever seen it yet.
Even so it seems soon to them that the net of the hunters drew
ever more tightly upon them, and though they had reached the
edge of the more familiar woods and passed the glooms of the
forest of Taurfuin, still were there many leagues of peril yet to pass
between them and the caverns of the king, and even did they reach
ever there it seemed like they would but draw the chase behind
them thither and Melko's hate upon all that woodland folk. So
great indeed was the hue and cry that Huan learnt of it far away,
and he marvelled much at the daring of those twain, and still more
that ever they had escaped from Angamandi.
Now goes he with many dogs through the woods hunting Orcs



and thanes of Tevildo, and many hurts he got thus, and many of
them he slew or put to fear and flight, until one even at dusk the
Valar brought him to a glade in that northward region of Artanor
that was called afterward Nan Dumgorthin, the land of the dark
idols, but that is a matter that concerns not this tale. Howbeit it
was even then a dark land and gloomy and foreboding, and dread
wandered beneath its lowering trees no less even than in Taurfuin;
and those two Elves Tinuviel and Beren were lying therein weary
and without hope, and Tinuviel wept but Beren was fingering his
knife.
Now when Huan saw them he would not suffer them to speak or
to tell any of their tale, but straightway took Tinuviel upon his
mighty back and bade Beren run as best he could beside him,
, "for," said he, "a great company of the Orcs are drawing swiftly
hither, and wolves are their trackers and their scouts." Now doth
Huan's pack run about them, and they go very swiftly along quick
and secret paths towards the homes of the folk of Tinwelint far
away. Thus was it that they eluded the host of their enemies, but
had nonetheless many an encounter afterward with wandering
things of evil, and Beren slew an Orc that came nigh to dragging
off Tinuviel, and that was a good deed. Seeing then that the hunt
still pressed them close, once more did Huan lead them by winding
ways, and dared not yet straightly to bring them to the land of the
woodland fairies. So cunning however was his leading that at last
after many days the chase fell far away, and no longer did they see
or hear anything of the bands of Orcs; no goblins waylaid them
nor did the howling of any evil wolves come upon the airs at night,
and belike that was because already they had stepped within the
circle of Gwendeling's magic that hid the paths from evil things
and kept harm from the regions of the woodelves.
Then did Tinuviel breathe freely once more as she had not done
since she fled from her father's halls, and Beren rested in the sun
far from the glooms of Angband until the last bitterness of thraldom
left him. Because of the light falling through green leaves and the
whisper of clean winds and the song of birds once more are they
wholly unafraid.
At last came there nevertheless a day whereon waking out of a
deep slumber Beren started up as one who leaves a dream of happy
things coming suddenly to his mind, and he said: "Farewell, 0
Huan, most trusty comrade, and thou, little Tinuviel, whom I
love, fare thee well. This only I beg of thee, get thee now straight
to the safety of thy home, and may good Huan lead thee. But I -- lo,



I must away into the solitude of the woods, for I have lost that
Silmaril which I had, and never dare I draw near to Angamandi
more, wherefore neither will I enter the halls of Tinwelint." Then
he wept to himself, but Tinuviel who was nigh and had hearkened
to his musing came beside him and said: "Nay, now is my heart
changed," and if thou dwellest in the woods, 0 Beren Ermabwed,
then so will I, and if thou wilt wander in the wild places there will I
wander also, or with thee or after thee: -- yet never shall my father
see me again save only if thou takest me to him." Then indeed was
Beren glad at her sweet words, and fain would he have dwelt with
her as a huntsman of the wild, but his heart smote him for all that
she had suffered for him, and for her he put away his pride.
Indeed she reasoned with him, saying it would be folly to be
stubborn, and that her father would greet them with nought but
joy, being glad to see his daughter yet alive -- and "maybe," said
she, "he will have shame that his jesting has given thy fair hand to
the jaws of Karkaras." But Huan also she implored to return with
them a space, for "my father owes thee a very great reward, 0
Huan," saith she, "an he loves his daughter at all."
So came it that those three set forward once again together, and
came at last back to the woodlands that Tinuviel knew and loved
nigh to the dwellings of her folk and to the deep halls of her home.
Yet even as they approach they find fear and tumult among that
people such as had not been for a long age, and asking some that
wept before their doors they learned that ever since the day of
Tinuviel's secret flight ill-fortune had befallen them. Lo, the king
had been distraught with grief and had relaxed his ancient wariness
and cunning; indeed his warriors had been sent hither and thither
deep into the unwholesome woods searching for that maiden, and
many had been slain or lost for ever, and war there was with
Melko's servants about all their northern and eastern borders, so
that the folk feared mightily lest that Ainu upraise his strength
and come utterly to crush them and Gwendeling's magic have not
the strength to withhold the numbers of the Orcs. "Behold,"
said they, "now is the worst of all befallen, for long has Queen
Gwendeling sat aloof and smiled not nor spoken, looking as it were
to a great distance with haggard eyes, and the web of her magic has
blown thin about the woods, and the woods are dreary, for Dairon
comes not back, neither is his music heard ever in the glades.
Behold now the crown of all our evil tidings, for know that there
has broken upon us raging from the halls of Evil a great grey wolf
filled with an evil spirit, and he fares as though lashed by some


hidden madness, and none are safe. Already has he slain many
as he runs wildly snapping and yelling through the woods, so
that the very banks of the stream that flows before the king's
halls has become a lurking-place of danger. There comes the
awful wolf oftentimes to drink, looking as the evil Prince
himself with bloodshot eyes and tongue lolling out, and never can
he slake his desire for water as though some inward fire devours
him."
Then was Tinuviel sad at the thought of the unhappiness that
had come upon her folk, and most of all was her heart bitter at the
story of Dairon, for of this she had not heard any murmur before.
Yet could she not wish Beren had come never to the lands of
Artanor, and together they made haste to Tinwelint; and already
to the Elves of the wood it seemed that the evil was at an end now
that Tinuviel was come back among them unharmed. Indeed they
scarce had hoped for that.
In great gloom do they find King Tinwelint, yet suddenly is his
sorrow melted to tears of gladness, and Gwendeling sings again
for joy when Tinuviel enters there and casting away her raiment of
dark mist she stands before them in her pearly radiance of old. For
a while all is mirth and wonder in that hall, and yet at length the
king turns his eyes to Beren and says: "So thou hast returned too --
bringing a Silmaril, beyond doubt, in recompense for all the ill
thou hast wrought my land; or an thou hast not, I know not
wherefore thou art here."
Then Tinuviel stamped her foot and cried so that the king and
all about him wondered at her new and fearless mood: "For
shame, my father -- behold, here is Beren the brave whom thy
jesting drove into dark places and foul captivity and the Valar
alone saved from a bitter death. Methinks 'twould rather befit a
king of the Eldar to reward him than revile him."
"Nay," said Beren, "the king thy father hath the right. Lord,"
said he, "I have a Silmaril in my hand even now."
"Show me then," said the king in amaze.
"That I cannot," said Beren, "for my hand is not here"; and he
held forth his maimed arm.
Then was the king's heart turned to him by reason of his stout
and courteous demeanour, and he bade Beren and Tinuviel relate
to him all that had befallen either of them, and he was eager to
hearken, for he did not fully comprehend the meaning of Beren's
words. When however he had heard all yet more was his heart
turned to Beren, and he marvelled at the love that had awakened in


the heart of Tinuviel so that she had done greater deeds and more
daring than any of the warriors of his folk.
"Never again," said he, "0 Beren I beg of thee, leave this court
nor the side of Tinuviel, for thou art a great Elf and thy name will
ever be great among the kindreds." Yet Beren answered him
proudly, and said: "Nay, 0 King, I hold to my word and thine,
and I will get thee that Silmaril or ever I dwell in peace in thy
halls." And the king entreated him to journey no more into the
dark and unknown realms, but Beren said: "No need is there
thereof, for behold that jewel is even now nigh to thy caverns,"
and he made clear to Tinwelint that that beast that ravaged his
land was none other than Karkaras, the wolfward of Melko's gates
-- and this was not known to all, but Beren knew it taught by Huan,
whose cunning in the reading of track and slot was greatest among
all the hounds, and therein are none of them unskilled. Huan
indeed was with Beren now in the halls, and when those twain
spoke of a chase and a great hunt he begged to be in that deed; and
it was granted gladly. Now do those three prepare themselves to
harry that beast, that all the folk be rid of the terror of the wolf,
and Beren kept his word, bringing a Silmaril to shine once more in
Elfinesse. King Tinwelint himself led that chase, and Beren was
beside him, and Mablung the heavy-handed, chief of the king's
thanes, leaped up and grasped a spear" -- a mighty weapon captured
in battle with the distant Orcs -- and with those three stalked Huan
mightiest of dogs, but others they would not take according to the
desire of the king, who said: "Four is enough for the slaying even
of the Hell-wolf" -- but only those who had seen knew how
fearsome was that beast, nigh as large as a horse among Men, and
so great was the ardour of his breath that it scorched whatsoever it
touched. About the hour of sunrise they set forth, and soon after
Huan espied a new slot beside the stream, not far from the king's
doors, "and," quoth he, "this is the print of Karkaras." Thereafter
they followed that stream all day, and at many places its banks
were new-trampled and torn and the water of the pools that lay
about it was fouled as though some beasts possessed of madness
had rolled and fought there not long before.
Now sinks the sun and fades beyond the western trees and
darkness is creeping down from Hisilome so that the light of the
forest dies. Even so come they to a place where the spoor swerves
from the stream or perchance is lost in its waters and Huan may no
longer follow it; and here therefore they encamp, sleeping in turns
beside the stream, and the early night wears away.

Suddenly in Beren's watch a sound of great terror leaped up
from far away -- a howling as of seventy maddened wolves -- then
lo! the brushwood cracks and saplings snap as the terror draweth
near, and Beren knows that Karkaras is upon them. Scarce had he
time to rouse the others, and they were but just sprung up and
half-awake, when a great form loomed in the wavering moonlight
filtering there, and it was fleeing like one mad, and its course was
bent towards the water. Thereat Huan gave tongue, and straight-
way the beast swerved aside towards them, and foam was dripping
from his jaws and a red light shining from his eyes, and his face
was marred with mingled terror and with wrath. No sooner did he
leave the trees than Huan rushed upon him fearless of heart, but
he with a mighty leap sprang right over that great dog, for all his
fury was kindled suddenly against Beren whom he recognized as
he stood behind, and to his dark mind it seemed that there was the
cause of all his agony. Then Beren thrust swiftly upward with a
spear into his throat, and Huan leapt again and had him by a hind
leg, and Karkaras fell as a stone, for at that same moment the
ting's spear found his heart, and his evil spirit gushed forth and
sped howling faintly as it fared over the dark hills to Mandos'; but
Beren lay under him crushed beneath his weight. Now they roll
back that carcase and fall to cutting it open, but Huan licks Beren's
face whence blood is flowing. Soon is the truth of Beren's words
made clear, for the vitals of the wolf are half-consumed as though
an inner fire had long been smouldering there, and suddenly the
night is filled with a wondrous lustre, shot with pale and secret
colours, as Mablung" draws forth the Silmaril. Then holding it
out he said: "Behold 0 King,"" but Tinwelint said: "Nay, never
will I handle it save only if Beren give it to me." But Huan said:
"And that seems like never to be, unless ye tend him swiftly, for
methinks he is hurt sorely"; and Mablung and the king were
ashamed.
Therefore now they raised Beren gently up and tended him and
washed him, and he breathed, but he spoke not nor opened his
eyes, and when the sun arose and they had rested a little they bore
him as softly as might be upon a bier of boughs back through the
woodlands; and nigh midday they drew near the homes of the folk
again, and then were they deadly weary, and Beren had not moved
nor spoken, but groaned thrice.
There did all the people flock to meet them when their approach
was noised among them, and some bore them meat and cool drinks
and salves and healing things for their hurts, and but for the harm


that Beren had met great indeed had been their joy. Now then they
covered the leafy boughs whereon he lay with soft raiment, and
they bore him away to the halls of the king, and there was Tinuviel
awaiting them in great distress; and she fell upon Beren's breast
and wept and kissed him, and he awoke and knew her, and after
Mablung gave him that Silmaril, and he lifted it above him gazing
at its beauty, ere he said slowly and with pain: "Behold, 0 King, I
give thee the wondrous jewel thou didst desire, and it is but a little
thing found by the wayside, for once methinks thou hadst one
beyond thought more beautiful, and she is now mine." Yet even as
he spake the shadows of Mandos lay upon his face, and his spirit
fled in that hour to the margin of the world, and Tinuviel's tender
kisses called him not back.'
Then did Veanne suddenly cease speaking, and Eriol sadly
said: 'A tale of ruth for so sweet a maid to tell'; but behold,
Veanne wept, and not for a while did she say: 'Nay, that is not all
the tale; but here endeth all that I rightly know,' and other
children there spake, and one said: 'Lo, I have heard that the
magic of Tinuviel's tender kisses healed Beren, and recalled his
spirit from the gates of Mandos, and long time he dwelt among the
Lost Elves wandering the glades in love with sweet Tinuviel.' But
another said: 'Nay, that was not so, 0 Ausir, and if thou wilt listen
I will tell the true and wondrous tale; for Beren died there in
Tinuviel's arms even as Veanne has said, and Tinuviel crushed
with sorrow and finding no comfort or light in all the world
followed him swiftly down those dark ways that all must tread
alone. Now her beauty and tender loveliness touched even the
cold heart of Mandos, so that he suffered her to lead Beren forth
once more into the world, nor has this ever been done since to Man
or Elf, and many songs and stories are there of the prayer of
Tinuviel before the throne of Mandos that I remember not right
well. Yet said Mandos to those twain: "Lo, O Elves, it is not to any
life of perfect joy that I dismiss you, for such may no longer be
found in all the world where sits Melko of the evil heart -- and know
ye that ye will become mortal even as Men, and when ye fare
hither again it will be for ever, unless the Gods summon you
indeed to Valinor." Nonetheless those twain departed hand in
hand, and they fared together through the northern woods, and
oftentimes were they seen dancing magic dances down the hills,
and their name became heard far and wide.'
And thereat that boy ceased, and Veanne said: 'Aye, and they

did more than dance, for their deeds afterward were very great,
and many tales are there thereof that thou must hear, 0 Eriol
Melinon, upon another time of tale-telling. For those twain it is
that stories name i-Cuilwarthon, which is to say the dead that live
again, and they became mighty fairies in the lands about the north
of Sirion. Behold now all is ended -- and doth it like thee?' But
Eriol said: 'Indeed 'tis a wondrous tale, such as I looked not to
hear from the lips of the little maids of Mar Vanwa Tyalieva,' but
Veanne answered him: 'Nay, but I fashioned it not with words of
myself; but it is dear to me -- and indeed all the children know of
the deeds that it relates -- and I have learned it by heart, reading it
in the great books, and I do not comprehend all that is set therein.'
'Neither do I,' said Eriol -- but suddenly cried Ausir: 'Behold,
Eriol, Veanne has never told thee what befell Huan; nor how he
would take no rewards from Tinwelint nor dwell nigh him, but
wandered forth again grieving for Tinuviel and Beren. On a time
he fell in with Mablung" who aided in the chase, and was now
fallen much to hunting in lonely parts; and the twain hunted
together as friends until the days of Glorund the Drake and of
Turin Turambar, when once more Huan found Beren and played
his part in the great deeds of the Nauglafring, the Necklace of the
Dwarves.'
'Nay, how could I tell all this,' said Veanne, 'for behold it is time
for the evening meat already'; and soon after the great gong rang.
The second version of the Tale of Tinuviel.
As already mentioned (p. 3), there exists a revised version of part of the
tale in a typescript (made by my father). This follows the manuscript
version closely or very closely on the whole, and in no way alters the style
or air of the former; it is therefore unnecessary to give this second version
in extenso. But the typescript does in places introduce interesting
changes, and these are given below (the pages of the corresponding
passages in the manuscript version are given in the margin).
The title in the typescript (which begins with the Link passage already
given, pp. 4 -- 7) was originally 'The Tale of Tynwfiel, Princess of Dor
Athro', which was changed to 'The Tale of Tinuviel, the Dancer of
Doriath'.
(8) 'Who then was Tinuviel?' said Eriol. 'Knowst thou not,' said
Ausir, 'she was the daughter of Singoldo, king of Artanor?' 'Hush

thee, Ausir,' said Veanne, 'this is my tale, and 'tis a tale of the
Gnomes, wherefore I beg that thou fill not Eriol's ear with thy
Elfin names. Lo! I will tell this tale only, for did I not see Melian
and Tinuviel once long ago with my own eyes when journeying by
the Way of Dreams?'
'What then was Queen Melian like,' quoth Eriol, 'if thou hast
seen her, 0 Veanne?'
'Slender and very dark of hair,' said she, 'and her skin was white
and pale, but her eyes shone seeming to hold great depths. Clad
she was in filmy garments most lovely yet of the hue of night,
jet-spangled and girt with silver. If ever she sang or if ever
she danced, dreams and slumbers passed over the heads of those
that were nigh, making them heavy as it were with a strong wine
of sleep. Indeed she was a sprite that, escaping from Lorien's
gardens before even Kor was built, wandered in the wild places of
the world and in every lonely wood. Nightingales fared with her
singing about her as she went -- and 'twas the song of these birds
that smote the ears of Thingol as he marched at the head of that
second tribe of the Eldalie which afterward became the Shore-
land Pipers, the Solosimpi of the Isle. Now had they come a great
way from dim Palisor, and wearily the companies laboured behind
the swift-footed horse of Orome, wherefore the music of the magic
birds of Melian seemed to him full of all solace, more beautiful
than other melodies of Earth, and he strayed aside for a moment,
as he thought, from the host, seeking in the dark trees whence it
might come.
And it is said that it was not a moment that he hearkened, but
many years, and vainly his people sought him, until at length they
must perforce follow Orome upon Tol Eressea, and be borne
thereon far away leaving him listening to the birds enchanted in
the woods of Aryador. That was the first sorrow of the Solosimpi,
that after were many; but Iluvatar in memory of Thingol set a seed
of music in the hearts of that folk above all kindreds of the Earth
save only the Gods, and after, as all story tells, it blossomed
wondrously upon the isle and in glorious Valinor.
Little sorrow, however, had Thingol; for after a little, as him
seemed, he came upon Melian lying on a bed of leaves...
*
(9) Long thereafter, as now thou knowest, Melko brake once more
into the world from Valinor, and wellnigh all beings therein came
under his foul thraldom; nor were the Lost Elves free, nor the
errant Gnomes that wandered the mountainous places seeking
their stolen treasury. Yet some few there were that led by mighty
kings still defied that evil one in fast and hidden places, and if



Turgon King of Gondolin was the most glorious of these, for a
while the most mighty and the longest free was Thingol of the
Woods.
Now in the after-days of Sunshine and Moonsheen still dwelt
Thingol in Artanor and ruled a numerous and hardy folk drawn
from all the tribes of ancient Elfinesse -- for neither he nor his
people went to the dread Battle of Unnumbered Tears -- a matter
which toucheth not this tale. Yet was his lordship greatly increased
after that most bitter field by fugitives seeking a leader and a
home. Hidden was his dwelling thereafter from the vision and
knowledge of Melko by the cunning magics of Melian the fay, and
she wove spells about all the paths that led thereto, so that none
but the children of the Eldalie might tread them without straying.
Thus was the king guarded against all evils save treachery alone;
his halls were builded in a deep cavern, vaulted immeasurable,
that knew no other entrance than a rocky door, mighty, pillared
with stone, and shadowed by the loftiest and most ancient trees in
all the shaggy forests of Artanor. A great stream was there that
fared a dark and silent course in the deep woods, and this flowed
wide and swift before that doorway, so that all who would enter
that portal must first cross a bridge hung by the Noldoli of
Thingol's service across that water -- and narrow it was and
strongly guarded. In no wise ill were those forest lands, although
not utterly distant were the Iron Mountains and black Hisilome
beyond them where dwelt the strange race of Men, and thrall-
Noldoli laboured, and few free-Eldar went.
Two children had Thingol then, Dairon and Tinuviel...
)
'her mother was a fay, a child of Lorien' for manuscript 'her
mother was a fay, a daughter of the Gods'.
*
(11)
'Now Beren was a Gnome, son of Egnor the forester' as in
manuscript; but Egnor changed to Barahir. This however was a
much later and as it were casual change; Beren's father was still
Egnor in 1925.
)
Manuscript version 'and all the Elves of the woodland thought
of the Gnomes of Dor Lomin as treacherous creatures, cruel and
faithless' is omitted in the typescript.
*
)
Angband for manuscript Angamandi, and throughout.
*0

(14) Many a combat and an escape had he in those days, and he slew
therein more than once both wolf and the Orc that rode thereon
with nought but an ashen club that he bore; and other perils and
adventures...
(15) But Melko looking wroth upon him asked: <How hast thou, 0
thrall, dared to fare thus out of the land where thy folk dwells at
my behest, and to wander in the great woods unbidden, leaving
the labours to which thou hast been set?" Then answered Beren
that he was no runagate thrall, but came of a kindred of the
Gnomes that dwelt in Aryador where were many of the folk of
Men. Then was Melko yet more wroth, saying: "Here have we a
plotter of deep treacheries against Melko's lordship, and one
worthy of the tortures of the Balrogs" -- for he sought ever to
destroy the friendship and intercourse of Elves and Men, lest they
forget the Battle of Unnumbered Tears and once more arise in
wrath against him. But Beren seeing his peril answered: "Think
not, 0 most mighty Belcha Morgoth (for such be his names
among the Gnomes), that could be so; for, an it were, then should
I not be here unaided and alone. No friendship has Beren son of
Egnor for the kindred of Men; nay indeed, wearying utterly of the
lands infested by that folk he has wandered out of Aryador.
Whither then should he go but to Angband? For many a great tale
has his father made to him aforetime of thy splendour and thy
glory. Lo, lord, albeit I am no renegade thrall, still do I desire
nothing so much as to serve thee in what small manner I may."
Little of truth was therein, and indeed his father Egnor was the
chiefest foe of Melko in all the kin of the Gnomes that still were
free, save only Turgon king of Gondolin and the sons of Feanor,
and long days of friendship had he known with the folk of Men,
what time he was brother in arms to Urin the steadfast; but in
those days he bore another name and Egnor was nought for
Melko. The truth, however, did Beren then tell, saying that he
was a great huntsman, swift and cunning to shoot or snare or to
outrun all birds and beasts. "I was lost unawares in a part of the
hills that were not known to me, 0 lord," he said, "the while I was
hunting; and wandering far I came to strange lands and knew no
other rede of safety save to fare to Angband, that all can find who
see the black hills of the north from afar. I would myself have fared
to thee and begged of thee some humble office (as a winner of
meats for thy table, perchance) had not these Orcs seized me and
tormented me unjustly."
Now the Valar must have inspired that speech, or maybe it was
a spell of cunning words cast upon him in compassion by Melian as
he fled from the hall; for indeed it saved his life...



Subsequently a part of this passage was emended on the type-
script, to read:
... and long days of friendship had he known with the folk of
Men (as had Beren himself thereafter as brother in arms to Urin
the Steadfast); but in those days the Orcs named him Rog the
Fleet, and the name of Egnor was nought to Melko.
At the same time the words 'Now the Valar must have inspired
that speech' were changed to 'Now the Valar inspired that speech'.
(15)
Thus was Beren set by Melko as a thrall to The Prince of Cats,
whom the Gnomes have called Tiberth Bridhon Miaugion, but
the Elves Tevildo.
Subsequently Tiberth appears for MS Tevildo throughout,
and in one place the full name Tiberth Bridhon Miaugion appears
again. In the MS the Gnomish name is Tifil.
(17)
... getting nought but a bitten finger for his toil. Then was
Tiberth wroth, and said: "Thou hast lied to my lord, 0 Gnome,
and art fitter to be a scullion than a huntsman, who canst not catch
even the mice about my halls." Evil thereafter were his days in the
power of Tiberth; for a scullion they made him, and unending
labour he had in the hewing of wood and drawing of water, and in
the menial services of that noisome abode. Often too was he
tormented by the cats and other evil beasts of their company, and
when, as happened at whiles, there was an Orc-feast in those halls,
he would ofttimes be set to the roasting of birds and other meats
upon spits before the mighty fires in Melko's dungeons, until he
swooned for the overwhelming heat; yet he knew himself fortunate
beyond all hope in being yet alive among those cruel foes of Gods
and Elves. Seldom got he food or sleep himself, and he became
haggard and half-blind, so that he wished often that never straying
out of the wild free places of Hisilome he had not even caught sight
afar off of the vision of Tinuviel.
*
(17)
But Melian laughed not, nor said aught thereto; for in many
things was she wise and forewise -- yet nonetheless it was a thing
unthought in a mad dream that any Elf, still less a maiden, the
daughter of that king who had longest defied Melko, should fare
alone even to the borders of that sorrowful country amid which
lies Angband and the Hells of Iron. Little love was there between
the woodland Elves and the folk of Angband even in those days
before the Battle of Unnumbered Tears when Melko's power was
not grown to its full, and he veiled his designs, and spread his net



of lies. "No help wilt thou get therein of me, little one," said she;
"for even if magic and destiny should bring thee safe out of that
foolhardiness, yet should many and great things come thereof,
and on some many sorrows, and my rede is that thou tell never thy
father of thy desire."
But this last word of Melian's did Thingol coming unaware
overhear, and they must perforce tell him all, and he was so wroth
when he heard it that Tinuviel wished that never had her thoughts
been revealed even to her mother.
(18)
Indeed I have no love for him, for he has destroyed our play
together, our music and our dancing." But Tinuviel said: "I ask it
not for him, but for myself, and for that very play of ours together
aforetime." And Dairon said: "And for thy sake I say thee nay";
and they spake no more thereof together, but Dairon told the king
of what Tinuviel had desired of him, fearing lest that dauntless
maiden fare away to her death in the madness of her heart.
 (18)
... he might not shut his daughter for ever in the caves, where the
light was only that of torches dim and flickering.
(19)
The names of all the tallest and longest things upon Earth were set
in that song: the beards of the Indrafangs, the tail of Carcaras, the
body of Glorund the drake, the bole of Hirilorn, and the sword of
Nan she named, nor did she forget the chain Angainu that Aule
and Tulkas made, or the neck of Gilim the giant that is taller than
many elm trees;...
Carcaras is spelt thus subsequently in the typescript.
*
(20)
... as fast as her dancing feet would flit.
Now when the guards awoke it was late in the morning, and
they fled away nor dared to bear the tidings to their lord; and
Dairon it was bore word of the escape of Tinuviel to Thingol, for
he had met the folk that ran in amazement from the ladders which
each morning were lifted to her door. Great was the mingled grief
and wrath of the king, and all the deep places of his court were in
uproar, and all the woods were ringing with the search; but
Tinuviel was already far away dancing madly through the dark
woods towards the gloomy foothills and the Mountains of Night.
'Tis said that Dairon sped swiftest and furthest in pursuit, but was
wrapped in the deceit of those far places, and became utterly lost,



and came never back to Elfinesse, but turned towards Palisor; and
there he plays subtle magic musics still, wistful and lonely in the
woods and forests of the south.
Now fared Tinuviel forward, and a sudden dread overtook her
at the thought of what she had dared to do, and of what lay before
her. Then did she turn back for a while, and wept, wishing that
Dairon were with her. It is said that he was not indeed at that time
far off, and wandered lost in Taurfuin, the Forest of Night, where
after Turin slew Beleg by mishap. Nigh was Tinuviel to those evil
places; but she entered not that dark region, and the Valar set a
new hope in her heart, so that she pressed on once more.
(21)
Seldom was any of the cats slain indeed; for in those days they
were mightier far in valour and in strength than they have been
since those things befell that thou art soon to learn, mightier even
than the tawny cats of the southern lands where the sun burns hot.
No less too was their skill in climbing and in hiding, and their
fleetness was that of an arrow, yet were the free dogs of the
northern woods marvellously valiant and knew no fear, and great
enmity was between them, and some of those hounds were held in
dread even by the greatest of the cats. None, however, did Tiberth
fear save only Huan the lord of the Hounds of Hisi1ome. So swift
was Huan that on a time he had fallen upon Tiberth as he hunted
alone in the woods, and pursuing him had overtaken him and nigh
rent the fur of his neck from him ere he was rescued by a host of
Orcs that heard his cries. Huan got him many hurts in that battle
ere he won away, but the wounded pride of Tiberth lusted ever for
his death.
Great therefore was the good fortune that befell Tinuviel in
meeting with Huan in the woods; and this she did in a little glade
nigh to the forest's borders, where the first grasslands begin that
are nourished by the upper waters of the river Sirion. Seeing him
she was mortally afraid and turned to flee; but in two swift leaps
Huan overtook her. Speaking softly the deep tongue of the Lost
Elves he bade her be not afeared, and "wherefore," said he, "do I
see an Elfin maiden, and one most fair, wandering thus nigh to the
places of the Prince of Evil Heart?
What is thy thought, O Huan?"
"Little counsel have I for thee," said he, "save that thou goest
with all speed back to Artanor and thy father's halls, and I will
accompany thee all the way, until those lands be reached that the


magic of Melian the Queen does encompass." "That will I never
do," said she, "while Beren liveth here, forgotten of his friends."
"I thought that such would be thy answer," said he, "but if thou
wilt still go forward with thy mad quest, then no counsel have I for
thee save a desperate and a perilous one: we must make now all
speed towards the ill places of Tiberth's abiding that are yet far
off. I will guide thee thither by the most secret ways, and when we
are come there thou must creep alone, if thou hast the heart, to the
dwelling of that prince at an hour nigh noon when he and most of
his household lie drowsing upon the terraces before his gates.
There thou mayst perchance discover, if fortune is very kind,
whether Beren be indeed within that ill place as thy mother said to
thee. But lo, I will lie not far from the foot of the mount whereon
Tiberth's hall is built, and thou must say to Tiberth so soon as
thou seest him, be Beren there or be he not, that thou hast
stumbled upon Huan of the Dogs lying sick of great wounds in a
withered dale without his gates. Fear not overmuch, for herein
wilt thou both do my pleasure and further thine own desires, as
well as may be; nor do I think that when Tiberth hears thy tidings
thou wilt be in any peril thyself for a time. Only do thou not direct
him to the place that I shall show to thee; thou must offer to
guide him thither thyself. Thus thou shalt get free again of his
evil house, and shalt see what I contrive for the Prince of Cats."
Then did Tinuviel shudder at the thought of what lay before, but
she said that this rede would she sooner take than to return home,
and they set forth straightway by secret pathways through the
woods, and by winding trails over the bleak and stony lands that
lay beyond.
At last on a day at morn they came to a wide dale hollowed like a
bowl among the rocks. Deep were its sides, but nought grew there
save low bushes of scanty leaves and withered grass. "This is the
Withered Dale that I spake of," said Huan. "Yonder is the cave
where the great
Here the typescript version of the Tale of Tinuviel ends, at the
foot of a page. I think it is improbable that any more of this version
was made.
NOTES
For earlier references to Olore Malle, the Way of Dreams, see
1. 18, 27; 2I I, 225.
The distinction made here between the Elves (who call the queen
Wendelin) and, by implication, the Gnomes (who call her


3.
4.
5.
6.
Gwendeling) is even more explicit in the typescript version, p. 42
("tis a tale of the Gnomes, wherefore I beg that thou fill not Eriol's
ears with thy Elfin names') and p. 45 ('The Prince of Cats, whom the
Gnomes have called Tiberth Bridhon Miaugion, but the Elves
Tevildo'). See I.50 -- 1.
The manuscript as originally written read: 'Now Beren was a
Gnome, son of a thrall of Melko's, some have said, that laboured in
the darker places...' See note 4.
The manuscript as originally written read: 'I Beren of the Noldoli,
son of Egnor the huntsman...' See note 3.
From this point, and continuing to the words 'forests of the south'
on p. ax, the text is written on detache4 pages placed in the note-
book. There is no rejected material corresponding to this passage. It
is possible that it existed, and was removed from the book and lost;
but, though the book is in a decayed state, it does not seem that any
pages were removed here, and I think it more likely that my father
simply found himself short of space, as he wrote over the original,
erased, version, and (almost certainly) expanded it as he went.
The text as originally written read: 'came never back to Ellu, but
plays...' (for Ellu see Changes to Names below). As a result of the
interpolation 'but turned towards Palisor' Palisor is placed in the
south of the world. In the tale of The Coming of the Elves (I. 114)
Palisor is called 'the midmost region' (see also the drawing of
the 'World-Ship', 1.84), and it seems possible that the word
'south' should have been changed; but it remains in the typescript
(p.47).
7.
8.
9.
10.
The Tale of Turambar, though composed after the Tale of Tinuviel,
was in existence when Tinuviel was rewritten (see p. 69).
From 'amazed utterly' to 'if Tinuviel were not there' (p. 30) the text
is written on an inserted page; see note 5 -- here also the underlying
textual situation is obscure.
A short passage of earlier text in pencil becomes visible here,
ending: '... and Tinuviel grew to long sorely for Wendelin her
mother and for the sight of Linwe and for Kapalen making music in
pleasant glades.' Kapalen must be a name preceding Tifanto, itself
preceding Dairon (see Changes to Names below).
this Gnome: original reading this man. This was a slip, but a
significant slip (see p. 52), in all probability. It is possible that 'man'-
was used here, as occasionally elsewhere (e.g. p. 18 'as high as men
could fashion their longest ladders', where the reference is to the
Elves of Artanor), to mean 'male Elf', but in that case there would
seem no reason to change it.
Struck out here in the manuscript: 'Beren of the Hills'.
'Mablung the heavy-handed, chief of the king's thanes, leaped up
and grasped a spear' replaced the original reading 'Tifanto cast aside
his pipe and grasped a spear'. Originally the name of Tinuviel's



brother was Tifanto throughout the tale. See notes 13-15, and the
Commentary, p. 59.
13. Mablung replaced Tifanto, and again immediately below; see
note 12.
14. '0 King' replaced '0 father', see note 12.
15. In this place Mablung was the form as first written; see the Com-
mentary, p. 59.
16. It is essential to the narrative of the Coming of the Elves that the
Solosimpi were the third and last of the three tribes; 'second' here
can only be a slip, if a surprising one.
Changes made to names in
The Tale of Tinuviel.
(i) Manuscript Version
Ilfiniol < Elfriniol. In the typescript text the name is Ilfrin. See
pp. 2O1 -- 2.
Tinwe' Linto, Tinwelint In the opening passage of the tale (p. 8),
where Ausir and Veanne differ on the forms of Tinwelint's name,
the MS is very confused and it is impossible to understand the
succeeding stages. Throughout the tale, as originally written,
Veanne calls Tinwelint Tinto Ellu or Ellu, but in the argument at
the beginning it is Ausir who calls him Tin to Ellu while Veanne calls
him Tinto'ellon. (Tinto) Ellu is certainly an 'Elvish' form, but it is
corrected throughout the tale to the Gnomish Tinwelint, while
Ausir's Tinto Ellu at the beginning is corrected to Tintwe Linto. (At
the third occurrence of Tinwe' in the opening passage the name as
originally written was Linwe: see I. 130.)
In the tales of The Coming of the Elves and The Theft of Melko
in Part One Ellu is the name of the second lord of the Solosimpi
chosen in Tinwelint's place (afterwards Olwe), but at both occur-
ences (I. 120, 141) this is a later addition (I. 130 note 5, 155). Many
years later Elluagain became Thingol's name (Sindarin Elu
Thingol, Quenya Elwe Singollo, in The Silmarillion).
Gwendeling As the tale was originally written, Wendelin was
the name throughout (Wendelin is found in tales given in Part
One, emended from Tindriel: I. 106 -- 7, 131). It was later changed
throughout to the Gnomish form Gwendeling (found in the early
Gnomish dictionary, 1.273, itself changed later to Gwedhiling)
except in the mouth of Ausir, who uses the 'Elvish' form Wendelin
(p.8).
Dairon < Tifanto throughout. For the change of Tifanto > Mablung
at the end of the tale (notes 12-14 above) see the Commentary,
p. 59, and for the name Kapalen preceding Tifanto see note 9.
Dor Lomin < Aryador (p. 11). In the tale of The Coming of the



Elves it is said (I. 119) that Aryador was the name of Hisilome
among Men; for Dor Lomin -- Hisilome see I. 112. At subsequent
occurrences in this tale Aryador was not changed.
Angband was originally twice written, and in one of these cases it was
changed to Angamandi, in the other (p. 35) allowed to stand; in all
other instances Angamandi was the form first written. In the
manuscript version of the tale Veanne does not make consistent use
of Gnomish or 'Elvish' forms: thus she says Tevildo (not Tifil),
Angamandi, Gwendeling (< Wendelin), Tinwelint (< Tinto
(Ellu)). In the typescript version, on the other hand, Veanne
says Tiberth, Angband, Melian (( Gwenethlin), Thingol (<
Tinwelint).
Hirilorn, the Queen of Trees < Golosbrindi, the Queen of the
Forest (p. 18); Hirilorn < Golosbrindi at subsequent occurrences.
Uinen < Onen (or possibly Unen).
Egnor bo-Rimion < Egnor go-Rimion. In the tales previously given
the patronymic prefix is go- (I. 146, 155).
Tinwelint < Tinthellon (p. 35, the only case). Cf. Tinto'ellon men-
tioned above under Tinwe Linto.
 i-Cuilwarthon < i Cuilwarthon.
(ii) Typescript Version.
 Tisuviel < Tynwfiel in the title and at every occurrence until the
passage corresponding to MS version p. 11 'yet now did he see
Tinuviel dancing in the twilight', there and subsequently the form
typed was Tinuviel.
Singoldo < Tinwe Linto (p. 41).
Melian < Gwenethlin at every occurrence until the passage corres-
ponding to MS version p. 12 'the stateliness of Queen Gwendeling',
there and subsequently the form typed was Melian.
Thingol < Tinwelint at every occurrence until the passage corres-
ponding to MS version p. 12 'by winding paths to the abode of
Tinwelint'; there and subsequently the form typed was Thingol.
For Egnor > Barahir see p. 43.
Commentary on
The Tale of Tinuviel.
The primary narrative.
In this section I shall consider only the conduct of the main story, and
have for the moment such questions as the wider history implied in it,
Tinwelint's people and his dwelling, or the geography of the lands that
appear in the story.


The story of Beren's coming upon Tinuviel in the moonlit glade in its
earliest recorded form (pp. 11-- 12) was never changed in its central
image; and it should be noticed that the passage in The Silmarillion
(p. 165) is an extremely concentrated and exalted rendering of the scene:
many elements not mentioned there were never in fact lost. In a very late
reworking of the passage in the Lay of Leithian* the hemlocks and the
white moths still appear, and Daeron the minstrel is present when Beren
comes to the glade. But there are nonetheless the most remarkable
differences; and the chief of these is of course that Beren was here no
mortal Man, but an Elf, one of the Noldoli, and the absolutely essential
element of the story of Beren and Luthien is not present. It will be seen
later (pp. 71 -- 2, 139) that this was not originally so, however: in the now
lost (because erased) first form of the Tale of Tinuviel he had been a Man
(it is ' for this reason that I have said that the reading man in the
manuscript (see p. 33 and note 10), later changed to Gnome, is a
'significant slip'). Several years after the composition of the tale in the
form in which we have it he became a Man again, though at that time
(1925 -- 6) my father appears to have hesitated long on the matter of the
elvish or mortal nature of Beren.
In the tale there is, necessarily, a quite different reason for the hostility
and distrust shown to Beren in Artanor (Doriath) -- namely that 'the
Elves of the woodland thought of the Gnomes of Dor Lomin as treach-
erous creatures, cruel and faithless' (see below, p. 65). It seems clear that
at this time the history of Beren and his father (Egnor) was only very
sketchily devised; there is in any case no hint of the story of the outlaw
band led by his father and its betrayal by Gorlim the Unhappy (The
Silmarillion pp. 162ff.) before the first form of the Lay of Leithian,
where the story appears fully formed (the Lay was in being to rather
beyond this point by the late summer of 1925). But an association of
Beren's father (changed to Beren himself) with Urin (Hurin) as 'brother
in arms' is mentioned in the typescript version of the tale (pp. 44--5);
according to the latest of the outlines for Gilfanon's Tale (I.240) 'Urin
and Egnor marched with countless battalions' (against the forces of
Melko).
In the old story, Tinuviel had no meetings with Beren before the day
when he boldly accosted her at last, and it was at that very time that she
led him to Tinwelint's cave; they were not lovers, Tinuviel knew nothing
of Beren but that he was enamoured of her dancing, and it seems that she
brought him before her father as a matter of courtesy, the natural thing
to do. The betrayal of Beren to Thingol by Daeron (The Silmarillion
p. 166) therefore has no place in the old story -- there is nothing to betray;
and indeed it is not shown in the tale that Dairon knew anything
whatsoever of Beren before Tinuviel led him into the cave, beyond
having once seen his face in the moonlight.

* The long unfinished poem in rhyming couplets in which is told the story of
Beren and
Luthien Tinuviel; composed in 1925-31, but parts of it substantially rewritten
many years
later.

Despite these radical differences in the narrative structure, it is remark-
able how many features of the scene in Tinwelint's hall (pp.12-13),
when Beren stood before the king, endured, while all the inner signifi-
cance was shifted and enlarged. To the beginning go back, for instance,
Beren's abashment and silence, Tinuviel's answering for him, the sudden
rising of his courage and uttering of his desire without preamble or
hesitation. But the tone is altogether lighter and less grave than it
afterwards became; in the jeering laughter of Tinwelint, who treats the
matter as a jest and Beren as a benighted fool, there is no hint of what is
explicit in the later story: 'Thus he wrought the doom of Doriath, and
was ensnared within the curse of Mandos' (The Silmarillion p. 167). The
Silmarils are indeed famous, and they have a holy power (p. 34), but the
fate of the world is not bound up with them (The Silmarillion p. 67);
Beren is an Elf, if of a feared and distrusted people, and his request lacks
the deepest dimension of outrage; and he and Tinuviel are not lovers.
In this passage is the first mention of the I ron Crown of Melko, and the
setting of the Silmarils in the Crown; and here again is a detail that was
never lost: 'Never did this crown leave his head' (cf. The Silmarillion
p. 81: 'That crown he never took from his head, though its weight
became a deadly weariness').
But from this point Veanne's story diverges in an altogether unexpected
fashion from the later narrative. At no other place in the Last Tales is the
subsequent transformation more remarkable than in this, the precursor
of the story of the capture of Beren and Felagund and their companions
by Sauron the Necromancer, the imprisonment and death of all save
Beren in the dungeons of Tol-in-Gaurhoth (the Isle of Werewolves in
the river Sirion), and the rescue of Beren and overthrow of Sauron by
Luthien and Huan.
Most notably, what may be referred to as 'the Nargothrond Element' is
entirely absent, and in so far as it already existed had as yet made no
contact with the story of Beren and Tinuviel (for Nargothrond, not yet so
named, at this period see pp. 81, 123 -- 4). Beren has no ring of Felagund,
he has no companions on his northward journey, and there is no relation-
ship between (on the one hand) the story of his capture, his speech with
Melko, and his dispatch to the house of Tevildo, and (on the other) the
events of the later narrative whereby Beren and the band of Elves out
of Nargothrond found themselves in Sauron's dungeon. Indeed, all the
complex background of legend, of battles and rivalries, oaths and
alliances, out of which the story of Beren and Luthien arises in The
Silmarillion, is very largely absent. The castle of the Cats 'is' the tower of
Sauron on Tol-in-Gaurhoth, but only in the sense that it occupies the
same 'space' in the narrative: beyond this there is no point in seeking even
shadowy resemblances between the two establishments. The monstrous
gormandising cats, their kitchens and their sunning terraces, and their



engagingly Elvish-feline names (Miaugion, Miaule, Meoita) all dis-
appeared without trace. Did Tevildo? It would scarcely be true, I think,
to say even that Sauron 'originated' in a cat: in the next phase of the
legends the Necromancer (Thu) has no feline attributes. On the other
hand it would be wrong to regard it as a simple matter of replacement
(Thu stepping into the narrative place vacated by Tevildo) without any
element of transformation of what was previously there. Tevildo's
immediate successor is 'the Lord of Wolves', himself a werewolf, and he
retains the Tevildo-trait of hating Huan more than any other creature in
the world. Tevildo was 'an evil fay in beastlike shape' (p. 29); and the
battle between the two great beasts, the hound against the werewolf
(originally the hound against the demon in feline form) was never lost.
When the tale returns to Tinuviel in Artanor the situation is quite the
reverse: for the story of her imprisonment in the house in Hirilorn and
her escape from it never underwent any significant change. The passage
in The Silmarillion (p. 172) is indeed very brief, but its lack of detail is
due to compression rather than to omission based on dissatisfaction; the
Lay of Leithian, from which the prose account in The Silmarillion
directly derives, is in this passage so close, in point of narrative detail, to
the Tale of Tinuviel as to be almost identical with it.
It may be observed that in this part of the story the earliest version had
a strength that was diminished later, in that the duration of Tinuviel's
imprisonment and her journey to Beren's rescue relates readily enough to
that of Beren's captivity, which was intended by his captors to be
unending; whereas in the later story there is a great deal of event and
movement (with the addition of Luthien's captivity in Nargothrond) to
be fitted into the time when Beren was awaiting his death in the dungeon
of the Necromancer.
While the strong element of 'explanatory' beast-fable (concerning cats
and dogs) was to be entirely eliminated, and Tevildo Prince of Cats
replaced by the Necromancer, Huan nonetheless remained from it as the
great Hound of Valinor. His encounter with Tinuviel in the woods, her
inability to escape from him, and indeed his love for her from the
moment of their meeting (suggested in the tale, p. 23, explicit in
The Silmarillion p. 173), were already present, though the context
of their encounter and the motives of Huan were wholly different from
the absence of 'the Nargothrond Element' (Felagund, Celegorm and
Curufin).
In the story of the defeat of Tevildo and the rescue of Beren the germ
of the later legend is clearly seen, though for the most part only in broad
structural resemblances. It is curious to observe that the loud speaking of
Tinuviel sitting perched on the sill of the kitchen hatch in the castle of the
Cats, so that Beren might hear, is the precursor of her singing on the
bridge of Tol-in-Gaurhoth the song that Beren heard in his dungeon
(The Silmarillion p. 174). Tevildo's intention to hand her over to Melko
remained in Sauron's similar purpose (ibid.); the killing of the cat


Oikeroi ( p.28) is the germ of Huan's fight with Draugluin -- the skin of
Huan's dead opponent is put to the same use in either case (pp. 30-1,
The Silmarillion pp. 178-- 9); the battle of Tevildo and Huan was to
become that of Huan and Wolf-Sauron, and with essentially the same
outcome: Huan released his enemy when he yielded the mastery of his
dwelling. This last is very notable: the utterance by Tinuviel of the spell
which bound stone to stone in the evil castle (p. 29). Of course, when this
waswritten the castle of Tevildo was an adventitious feature in the story
-- it had no previous history: it was an evil place through and through,
and the spell (deriving from Melko) that Tevildo was forced to reveal was
the secret of Tevildo's own power over his creatures as well as the magic
that held the stones together. With the entry of Felagund into the
eloping legend and the Elvish watchtower on Tol Sirion (Minas
Tirith: The Silmarillion pp. 120, 155 -- 6) captured by the Necromancer,
the spell is displaced: for it cannot be thought to be the work of Felagund,
who built the fortress, since if it had been he would have been able to
pronounce it in the dungeon and bring the place down over their heads --
a less evil way for them to die. This element in the legend remained,
however, and is fully present in The Silmarillion (p. 175), though since
my father did not actually say there that Sauron told Huan and Luthien
what the words were, but only that he 'yielded himself', one may miss the
significance of what happened:
And she said: 'There everlastingly thy naked self shall endure the
torment of his scorn, pierced by his eyes, unless thou yield to me the
mastery of thy tower.'
Then Sauron yielded himself, and Luthien took the mastery of the
isle and all that was there....
Then Luthien stood upon the bridge, and declared her power: and
the spell was loosed that bound stone to stone, and the gates were
thrown down, and the walls opened, and the pits laid bare.
 Here again the actual matter of the narrative is totally different in the
Carly and late forms of the legend: in The Silmarillion 'many thralls and
ives came forth in wonder and dismay... for they had lain long in
darkness of Sauron', whereas in the tale the inmates who emerged
the shaken dwelling (other than Beren and the apparently inconse-
quent figure of the blind slave-Gnome Gimli) were a host of cats,
reduced by the breaking of Tevildo's spell to 'puny size'. (If my fatherhad
 used in the tale names other than Huan, Beren, and Tinuviel, and inthe
absence of all other knowledge, including that of authorship, it wouldnot
be easy to demonstrate from a simple comparison between this part ofthe
Tale and the story as told in The Silmarillion that the resemblances
were more than superficial and accidental.)
A more minor narrative point may be noticed here. The typescriptversi
on would presumably have treated the fight of Huan and Tevildo
somewhat differently, for in the manuscript Tevildo and his companion
can flee up great trees (p. 28), whereas in the typescript nothing grew in
the Withered Dale (where Huan was to lie feigning sick) save 'low bushes
of scanty leaves' (p. 48).
In the remainder of the story the congruence between early and late
forms is far closer. The narrative structure in the tale may be summarised
thus:
Beren is attired for disguise in the fell of the dead cat Oikeroi.
He and Tinuviel journey together to Angamandi.
Tinuviel lays a spell of sleep on Karkaras the wolf-ward of
Angamandi.
They enter Angamandi, Beren slinks in his beast-shape beneath
the seat of Melko, and Tinuviel dances before Melko.
All the host of Angamandi and finally Melko himself are cast into
sleep, and Melko's iron crown rolls from his head.
Tinuviel rouses Beren, who cuts a Silmaril from the crown, and
the blade snaps.
The sleepers stir, and Beren and Tinuviel flee back to the gates,
but find Karkaras awake again.
Karkaras bites off Beren's outthrust hand holding the Silmaril.
Karkaras becomes mad with the pain of the Silmaril in his belly,
for the Silmaril is a holy thing and sears evil flesh.
Karkaras goes raging south to Artanor.
Beren and Tinuviel return to Artanor; they go before Tinwelint
and Beren declares that a Silmaril is in his hand.
The hunting of the wolf takes place, and Mablung the Heavy-
handed is one of the hunters.
Beren is slain by Karkaras, and is borne back to the cavern of
Tinwelint on a bier of boughs; dying he gives the Silmaril to
Tinwelint.
Tinuviel follows Beren to Mandos, and Mandos permits them to
return into the world.
Changing the catskin of Oikeroi to the wolfskin of Draugluin, and
altering some other names, this would do tolerably well as a precis of the
story in The Silmarillion! But of course it is devised as a summary of
similarities. There are major differences as well as a host of minor ones
that do not appear in it.
Again, most important is the absence of 'the Nargothrond Element'.
When this combined with the Beren legend it introduced Felagund
as Beren's companion, Luthien's imprisonment in Nargothrond by
Celegorm and Curufin, her escape with Huan the hound of Celegorm,
and the attack on Beren and Luthien as they returned from Tol-in-
Gaurhoth by Celegorm and Curufin, now fleeing from Nargothrond
(The Silmarillion pp. 173 -- 4, I /6 -- 8).



The narrative after the conclusion of the episode of 'the Thraldom of
Beren' is conducted quite differently in the old story (pp. 30 -- 1), in that
here Huan is with Beren and Tinuviel; Tinuviel longs for her home, and
Beren is grieved because he loves the life in the woods with the dogs, but
he resolves the impasse by determining to obtain a Silmaril, and though
Huan'thinks their plan is folly he gives them the fell of Oikeroi, clad in
which Beren sets out with Tinuviel for Angamandi. In The Silmarillion
(p. 177) likewise, Beren, after long wandering in the woods with Luthien
(though not with Huan), resolves to set forth again on the quest of the
Silmaril, but Luthien's stance in the matter is different:
'You must choose, Beren, between these two: to relinquish the quest
and your oath and seek a life of wandering upon the face of the earth; or
to hold to your word and challenge the power of darkness upon its
throne. But on either road I shall go with you, and our doom shall be
alike.'
There then intervened the attack on Beren and Luthien by Celegorm
and Curufin, when Huan, deserting his master, joined himself to them;
they returned together to Doriath, and when they got there Beren left
Luthien sleeping and went back northwards by himself, riding Curufin's
horse. He was overtaken on the edge of Anfauglith by Huan bearing
Luthien on his back and bringing from Tol-in-Gaurhoth the skins of
Draugluin and of Sauron's bat-messenger Thuringwethil (of whom in
the old story there is no trace); attired in these Beren and Luthien went to
Angband. Huan is here their active counsellor.
The later legend is thus more full of movement and incident in this
part than is the Tale of Tinuviel (though the final form was not achieved
all at one stroke, as may be imagined); and in the Silmarillion form this is
the more marked from the fact that the account is a compression and a
summary of the long Lay of Leithian.*

* Cf. Professor T. A. Shippey, The Road to Middle-earth, 1982, p. 193: 'In
"Beren and
Luthien" as a whole there is too much plot. The other side of that criticism is
that on
occasion Tolkien has to bc rather brisk with his own inventions. Celegorm
wounds Beren,
and the hound Huan turns on his master and pursues him; "returning he
brought to
Luthien a herb out of the forest. With that leaf she staunched Beren's wound,
and by her
arts and her love she healed him...." The motif of the healing herb is a
common one, the
centre for instance o( the Breton lai of Eliduc (turned into conte by Marie de
France). But
in that it occupies a whole scene, if not a whole poem. In The Silmarillion it
appears only to
be dismissed in two lines, while Beren's wound is inflicted and healed in five.
Repeatedly
one has this sense of summary...' This sense is eminently justified! In the Lay
of Leithian
the wounding and the healing with the herb occupy some 64 lines. (Cl. my
Foreword to
The Silmarillion, p. 8.)

In the Tale of Tinuviel the account of Beren's disguise is characteristi-
cally detailed: his instruction by Tinuviel in feline behaviour, his heat
and discomfort inside the skin. Tinuviel's disguise as a bat has however
not yet emerged, and whereas in The Silmarillion when confronted by



Carcharoth she 'cast back her foul raiment' and 'commanded him to
sleep', here she used once more the magical misty robe spun of her hair:
'the black strands of her dark veil she cast in his eyes' (p. 31). The
indifference of Karkaras to the false Oikeroi contrasts with Carcharoth's
suspicion of the false Druagluin, of whose death he had heard tidings: in
the old story it is emphasised that no news of the discomfiture of Tevildo
(and the death of Oikeroi) had yet reached Angamandi.
The encounter of Tinuviel with Melko is given with far more detail
than in The Silmarillion (here much compressed from its source);
notable is the phrase (p. 32) 'he leered horribly, for his dark mind
pondered some evil', forerunner of that in The Silmarillion (p. 180):
Then Morgoth looking upon her beauty conceived in his thought an
evil lust, and a design more dark than any that had yet come into his
heart since he fled from Valinor.
We are never told anything more explicit.
Whether Melko's words to Tinuviel, 'Who art thou that flittest about
my halls like a bat?', and the description of her dancing 'noiseless as a
bat', were the germ of her later bat-disguise cannot be said, though it
seems possible.
The knife with which Beren cut the Silmaril from the Iron Crown
has a quite different provenance in the Tale of Tinuviel, being a
kitchen-knife that Beren took from Tevildo's castle (pp. 29, 33); in The
Silmarillion it was Angrist, the famous knife made by Telchar which
Beren took from Curufin. The sleepers of Angamandi are here disturbed
by the sound of the snapping of the knife-blade; in The Silmarillion it
is the shard flying from the snapped knife and striking Morgoth's cheek
that makes him groan and stir.
There is a minor difference in the accounts of the meeting with the
wolf as Beren and Tinuviel fled out. In The Silmarillion 'Luthien was
spent, and she had not time nor strength to quell the wolf'; in the tale it
seems that she might have done so if Beren had not been precipitate.
Much more important, there appears here for the first time the conception
of the holy power of the Silmarils that burns unhallowed flesh.*
The escape of Tinuviel and Beren from Angamandi and their return to
Artanor (pp. 34 -- 6) is treated quite differently in the Tale of Tinuviel. In
The Silmarillion (pp. 182 -- 3) they were rescued by the Eagles and set
down on the borders of Doriath; and far more is made of the healing of
Beren's wound, in which Huan plays a part. In the old story Huan comes
to them later, after their long southward flight on foot. In both accounts
there is a discussion between them as to whether or not they should
return to her father's hall, but it is quite differently conducted -- in the
tale it is she who persuades Beren to return, in The Silmarillion it is
Beren who persuades her.
* In an early note there is a reference to 'the sacred Silmarils': I. r 6g, note z.



There is a curious feature in the story of the Wolf-hunt (pp. 38 -- g)
which may be considered here (see p. 50, notes 12-15). At first, it was
Tinuviel's brother who took part in the hunt with Tinwelint, Beren, and
Huan, and his name is here Tifanto, which was the name throughout the
tale before its replacement by Dairon.* Subsequently 'Tifanto' -- withoutpass
ing through the stage of Dairon -- was replaced by Mablung the
heavy-handed, chief of the king's thanes', who here makes his first
appearance, as the fourth member of the hunt. But earlier in the tale it is
told that Tifanto > Dairon, leaving Artanor to seek Tinuviel, became
utterly lost, 'and came never back to Elfinesse' (p. 21), and the loss of
Tifanto > Dairon is referred to again when Beren and Tinuviel returned
to Artanor (pp. 36 -- 7).
Thus on the one hand Tifanto was lost, and it is a grief to Tinuviel on
her return to learn of it, but on the other he was present at the Wolf-hunt.
Tifanto was then changed to Dairon throughout the tale, except in the
story of the Wolf-hunt, where Tifanto was replaced by a new character,
Mablung. This shows that Tifanto was removed from the hunt before
the change of name to Dairon, but does not explain how, under the name
Tifanto, he was both lost in the wilds and present at the hunt. Since there
is nothing in the MS itself to explain this puzzle, I can only conclude that
my father did, in fact, write at first that Tifanto was lost and never came
back, and also that he took part in the Wolf-hunt; but observing this
contradiction he introduced Mablung in the latter role (and probably did
this even before the tale was completed, since at the last appearance of
Mablung his name was written thus, not emended from Tifanto: see note
15). It was subsequent to this that Tifanto was emended, wherever it still
stood, to Dairon.
In the tale the hunt is differently managed from the story in The
Silmarillion (where, incidentally, Beleg Strongbow was present). It
is curious that all (including, as it appears, Huan!) save Beren were
asleep when Karkaras came on them ('in Beren's watch', p. 39). In
The Silmarillion Huan slew Carcharoth and was slain by Aim, whereas
here Karkaras met his death from the king's spear, and the boy Ausir
tells at the end that Huan lived on to find Beren again at the time
of 'the great deeds of the Nauglafring' (p. 41). Of Huan's destiny,
that he should not die 'until he encountered the mightiest wolf that
would ever walk the world', and of his being permitted 'thrice only
ere his death to speak with words' (The Silmarillion p. 173), there
l' is nothing here.
The most remarkable feature of the Tale of Tinuviel remains the fact
that in its earliest extant form Beren was an Elf; and in this connection
very notable are the words of the boy at the end (p. 40):
* The idea that Timpinen (Tinfang Warble) was the son of Tinwelint and sister
of
Tinuviel (see I. to6, note r) had been abandoned. Tifanto/Dairon is now
named with
Tinfang and I vie as 'the three most magic players of the Elves' (p. s o) .

Yet said Mandos to those twain: 'Lo, 0 Elves, it is not to any life of
perfect joy that I dismiss you, for such may no longer be found in all
the world where sits Melko of the evil heart -- and know ye that ye mill
become mortal even as Men, and when ye fare hither again it will be
for ever, unless the Gods summon you indeed to Valinor.'
In the tale of The Coming of the Valar and the Building of Valinor
there occurs the following passage (I. 76; commentary I. 90):
Thither [i.e. to Mandos] in after days fared the Elves of all the clans
who were by illhap slain with weapons or did die of grief for those that
were slain -- and only so might the Eldar die, and then it was only for a
while. There Mandos spake their doom, and there they waited in the
darkness, dreaming of their past deeds, until such time as he appointed
when they might again be born into their children, and go forth to
laugh and sing again.
The same idea occurs in the tale of The Music of the Ainur (1. 59). The
peculiar dispensation of Mandos in the case of Beren and Tinuviel as here
conceived is therefore that their whole 'natural' destiny as Elves was
changed: having died as Elves might die (from wounds or from grief)
they were not reborn as new beings, but returned from Mandos in their
own persons -- yet now 'mortal even as Men'. The earliest eschatology is
too unclear to allow of a satisfactory interpretation of this 'mortality', and
the passage in The Building of Valinor on the fates of Men (1.77) is
particularly hard to understand (see the commentary on it, I. goff.). But
it seems possible that the words 'even as Men' in the address of Mandos to
Beren and Tinuviel were included to stress the finality of whatever
second deaths they might undergo; their departure would be as final as
that of Men, there would be no second return in their own persons, and
no reincarnation. They will remain in Mandos ('when ye fare hither
again it will be for ever') -- unless they are summoned by the Gods to
dwell in Valinor. These last words should probably be related to the
passage in The Building of Valinor concerning the fate of certain Men
(1.77):
Few are they and happy indeed for whom at a season doth Nornore the
herald of the Gods set out. Then ride they with him in chariots or upon
good horses down into the vale of Valinor and feast in the halls of
Valmar, dwelling in the houses of the Gods until the Great End come.
Places and peoples in the Tale of Tinuviel.
To consider first what can be learned of the geography of the Great
Lands from this tale: the early 'dictionary' of the Gnomish language


makes it clear that the meaning of Artanor was 'the Land Beyond', as it is
interpreted in the text (p. 9). Several passages in the Lost Tales cast light
on this expression. In an outline for Gilfanon's untold tale (I. 240) the
Noldoli exiled from Valinor
now fought for the first time with the Orcs and captured the pass of the
Bitter Hills; thus they escaped from the Land of Shadows... They
entered the Forest of Artanor and the Region of the Great Plains...
(which latter, I suggested, may be the forerunner of the later Talath
Dirnen, the Guarded Plain of Nargothrond). The tale to follow Gil-
fanon's, according to the projected scheme (I. 241), was to be that of
",-Tinuviel, and this outline begins: 'Beren son of Egnor wandered out of
Dor Lomin [i.e. Hisilome, see I. 112] into Artanor...' In the present
tale, it is said that Beren came 'through the terrors of the Iron Mountains
until he reached the Lands Beyond' (p. 11), and also (p. 21 ) that some of
the Dogs 'roamed the woods of Hisilome or passing the mountainous
places fared even at times into the region of Artanor and the lands beyond
and to the south'. And finally, in the Tale of Turambar (p. 72) there is a
riference to 'the road over the dark hills of Hithlum into the great forests
of the Land Beyond where in those days Tinwelint the hidden king had
his abode'.
It is quite clear, then, that Artanor, afterwards called Doriath (which
appears in the title to the typescript text of the Tale of Tinuviel, together
with an earlier form Dor Athro, p. 41), lay in the original conception
m much the same relation to Hisilome (the Land of Shadow(s),
Dor Lomin, Aryador) as does Doriath to Hisilome (Hisilome) in The
Silmarillion: to the south, and divided from it by a mountain-range, the
lion Mountains or Bitter Hills.
In commenting on the tale of The Theft of Melko and the Darkening
Valinor I have noticed (I. 158 -- 9) that whereas in the Lost Tales
Hisilome is declared to be beyond the Iron Mountains, it is also said (in
the Tale of Turambar, p. 77) that these mountains were so named from
Angband, the Hells of Iron, which lay beneath 'their northernmost
fastnesses', and that therefore there seems to be a contradictory usage
of the term 'Iron Mountains' within the Lost Tales -- 'unless it can
be supposed that these mountains were conceived as a continuous range,
the southerly extension (the later Mountains of Shadow) forming the
southern fence of Hisilome, while the northern peaks, being above
Angband, gave the range its name'.
Now in the Tale of Tinuviel Beren, journeying north from Artanor,
drew nigh to the lower hills and treeless lands that warned of the
approach of the bleak Iron Mountains' (p. 14). These he had previously
traversed, coming out of Hisilome; but now 'he followed the Iron
Mountains till he drew nigh to the terrible regions of Melko's abode'.


This seems to support the suggestion that the mountainsfencing Hisilome
from the Lands Beyond were continuous with those above Angband; and
we may compare the little primitive map (1.81), where the mountain
range f isolates Hisilome (g): see I. I 12, 135. The implication is that
'dim' or 'black' Hisilome had no defence against Melko.
There appear now also the Mountains of Night (pp. 20, 46 -- 7), and it
seems clear that the great pinewoods of Taurfuin, the Forest of Night,
grew upon those heights (in The Silmarillion Dorthonion 'Land of
Pines', afterwards named Taur-nu-Fuin). Dairon was lost there, but
Tinuviel, though she passed near, did not enter 'that dark region'. There
is nothing to show that it was not placed then as it was later -- to the east of
Ered Wethrin, the Mountains of Shadow. It is also at least possible that
the description (in the manuscript version only, p. 23) of Tinuviel, on
departing from Huan, leaving 'the shelter of the trees' and coming to 'a
region of long grass' is a first intimation of the great plain of Ard-galen
(called after its desolation Anfauglith and Dor-nu-Fauglith), especially if
this is related to the passage in the typescript version telling of Tinuviel's
meeting with Huan 'in a little glade nigh to the forest's borders, where the
first grasslands begin that are nourished by the upper waters of the river
Sirion' (p. 47).
After their escape from Angamandi Huan found Beren and Tinuviel
'in that northward region of Artanor that was called afterward Nan
Dumgorthin, the land of the dark idols' (p. 35). In the Gnomish diction-
ary Nan Dumgorthin is defined as 'a land of dark forest east of Artanor
where on a wooded mountain were hidden idols sacrificed to by some evil
tribes of renegade men' (dum 'secret, not to be spoken', dumgort,
dungort 'an (evil) idol'). In the Lay of the Children of Hurin in
alliterative verse Turin and his companion Flinding (later Gwindor),
fleeing after the death of Beleg Strongbow, came to this land:
There the twain enfolded phantom twilight
and dim mazes dark, unholy,
in Nan Dungorthin where nameless gods
have shrouded shrines in shadows secret,
more old than Morgoth or the ancient lords
the golden Gods of the guarded West.
But the ghostly dwellers of that grey valley
hindered nor hurt them, and they held their course
with creeping flesh and quaking limb.
Yet laughter at whiles with lingering echo,
as distant mockery of demon voices
there harsh and hollow in the hushed twilight
Flinding fancied, fell, unwholesome...
There are, I believe, no other references to the gods of Nan Dumgorthin.
In the poem the land was placed west of Sirion; and finally, as Nan


Dungortheb 'the Valley of Dreadful Death', it becomes in The Sil-
marillion (pp. 81, 121) a 'no-land' between the Girdle of Melian and
Ered Gorgoroth, the Mountains of Terror. But the description of it in
the Tale of Tinuviel as a 'northward region of Artanor' clearly does not
imply that it lay within the protective magic of Gwendeling, and it seems
that this 'zone' was originally less distinctly bounded, and less extensive,
than 'the Girdle of Melian' afterwards became. Probably Artanor was
conceived at this time as a great region of forest in the heart of which was
Tinwelint's cavern, and only his immediate domain was protected by the
power of the queen:
Hidden was his dwelling from the vision and knowledge of Melko by
the magics of Gwendeling the fay, and she wove spells about the paths
thereto that none but the Eldar might tread them easily, and so was the
king secured from all dangers save it be treachery alone. (p. 9).
It seems, also, that her protection was originally by no means so
complete and so mighty a wall of defence as it became. Thus, although
Orcs and wolves disappeared when Beren and Tinuviel 'stepped within
the circle of Gwendeling's magic that hid the paths from evil things and
kept harm from the regions of the woodelves' (p. 35), the fear is expressed
that even if Beren and Tinuviel reached the cavern of King Tinwelint
'they would but draw the chase behind them thither' (p. 34), and
Tinwelint's people feared that Melko would 'upraise his strength and
come utterly to crush them and Gwendeling's magic have not the strength
to withhold the numbers of the Orcs' (p. 36).
The picture of Menegroth beside Esgalduin, accessible only by the
bridge (The Silmarillion pp. 92 -- 3) goes back to the beginning, though
neither cave nor river are named in the tale. But (as will be seen more
emphatically in later tales in this book) Tinwelint, the wood-fairy in his
cavern, had a long elevation before him, to become ultimately Thingol of
the Thousand-Caves ('the fairest dwelling of any king that has ever been
east of the Sea'). In the beginning, Tinwelint's dwelling was not a
subterranean city full of marvels, silver fountains falling into basins of
marble and pillars carved like trees, but a rugged cave; and if in the
typescript version the cave comes to be 'vaulted immeasureable', it is still
illuminated only by the dim and flickering light of torches (pp. 43, 46).
There have been earlier references in the Lost Tales to Tinwelint and
the place of his dwelling. In a passage added to, but then rejected from,
the tale of The Chaining of Melko (I. 106, note x) it is said that he was
lost in Hisilome and met Wendelin there; 'loving her he was content to
leave his folk and dance for ever in the shadows'. In The Coming of the
Elves (I.115) 'Tinwe abode not long with his people, and yet 'tis said
lives still lord of the scattered Elves of Hisilome'; and in the same tale
(I. 118 -- 19) the 'Lost Elves' were still there 'long after when Men were



shut in Hisilome by Melko', and Men called them the Shadow Folk, and
feared them. But in the Tale of Tinuviel the conception has changed.
Tinwelint is now a king ruling, not in Hisilome, but in Artanor.* (It is
not said where it was that he came upon Gwendeling.)
In the account (manuscript version only, see pp. g, 42) of Tinwelint's
people there is mention of Elves 'who remained in the dark', and this
obviously refers to Elves who never left the Waters of Awakening. (Of
course those who were lost on the march from Palisor also never left 'the
dark' (i.e. they never came to the light of the Trees), but the distinction
made in this sentence is not between the darkness and the light but
between those who remained and those who set out). On the emergence
of this idea in the course of the writing of the Lost Tales see I.234. Of
Tinwelint's subjects 'the most were Ilkorindi', and they must be those
who 'had been lost upon the march from Palisor' (earlier, 'the Lost Elves
of Hisilome').
Here, a major difference in essential conception between the old
legend and the form in The Silmarillion is apparent. These Ilkorindi of
Tinwelint's following ('eerie and strange beings' whose 'dark songs and
chantings... faded in the wooded places or echoed in deep caves') are
described in terms applicable to the wild Avari ('the Unwilling') of The
Silmarillion; but they are of course actually the precursors of the Grey-
elves of Doriath. The term Eldar is here equivalent to Elves ('all the
Eldar both those who remained in the dark or had been lost upon the
march from Palisor') and is not restricted to those who made, or at least
embarked on, the Great Journey; all were Ilkorindi -- Dark Elves -- if they
never passed over the Sea. The later significance of the Great Journey in
conferring 'Eldarin' status was an aspect of the elevation of the Grey-
elves of Beleriand, bringing about a distinction of the utmost importance
within the category of the Moriquendi or 'Elves of the Darkness' -- the
Avari (who were not Eldar) and the Umanyar (the Eldar who were 'not
of Aman'): see the table 'The Sundering of the Elves' given in The
Silmarillion. Thus:
Lost Tales.
of Kor.
Silmarillion.
Avari.
Eldar
(
of the Great Lands.
(the Darkness):
Ilkorindi
Eldar.
(of the
Great Journey).
of Aman
of Middle-
earth.
(Umanyar).

But among Tinwelint's subjects there were also Noldoli, Gnomes.
This matter is somewhat obscure, but at least it may be observed that the
manuscript and typescript versions of the Tale of Tinuviel do not
envisage precisely the same situation.

* In the outlines for Gilfanon's Tale the 'Shadow Folk' of Hisilome have ceased
to be
Elves and become 'fays' whose origin is unknown: I. 237, 239.

The manuscript text is perhaps not perfectly explicit on the subject,
but it is said (p. g) that of Tinwelint's subjects 'the most were Ilkorindi',
and that before the rising of the Sun 'already were their numbers mingled
with a many wandering Gnomes'. Yet Dairon fled from the apparition of
Beren in the forest because 'all the Elves of the woodland thought of the
Gnomes of Dor Lomin as treacherous creatures, cruel and faithless'
(p. z x); and 'Dread and suspicion was between the Eldar and those of
their kindred that had tasted the slavery of Melko, and in this did the evil
deeds of the Gnomes at the Haven of the Swans revenge itself' (p. x x).
The hostility of the Elves of Artanor to Gnomes was, then, specifically a
hostility to the Gnomes of Hisilome (Dor Lomin), who were suspected
of being under the will of Melko (and this is probably a foreshadowing of
the suspicion and rejection of Elves escaped from Angband described in
The Silmarillion p. 156). In the manuscript it is said (p. 9) that all the
Elves of the Great Lands (those who remained in Palisor, those who were
lost on the march, and the Noldoli returned from Valinor) fell beneath the
power of Melko, though many escaped and wandered in the wild; and as
the manuscript text was first written (see p. x x and note 3) Beren was 'son
of a thrall of Melko's... that laboured in the darker places in the north
of Hisilome'. This conception seems reasonably clear, so far as it goes.
In the typescript version it is expressly stated that there were Gnomes
'in Tinwelint's service' (p. 43): the bridge over the forest river, leading to
Tinwelint's door, was hung by them. It is not now stated that all the
Elves of the Great Lands fell beneath Melko; rather there are named
several centres of resistance to his power, in addition to Tinwelint/
Thingol in Artanor: Turgon of Gondolin, the Sons of Feanor, and
Egnor of Hisilome (Beren's father) -- one of the chiefest foes of Melko 'in
all the kin of the Gnomes that still were free' (p. 44). Presumably this led
to the exclusion in the typescript of the passage telling that the woodland
Elves thought of the Gnomes of Dor Lomin as treacherous and faithless
(see p. 43), while that concerning the distrust of those who had been
Melko's slaves was retained. The passage concerning Hisilome 'where
dwelt Men, and thrall-Noldoli laboured, and few free-Eldar went' (p. 10)
was also retained; but Hisilome, in Beren's wish that he had never
strayed out of it, becomes 'the wild free places of Hisilome' (pp. 17, 45).
This leads to an altogether baffling question, that of the references to
the Battle of Unnumbered Tears; and several of the passages just'cited
bear on it.
The story of 'The Travail of the Noldoli and the Coming of Mankind'
that was to have been told by Gilfanon, but which after its opening pages
most unhappily never got beyond the stage of outline projections, was to
be followed by that of Beren and Tinuviel (see I. 241). After the Battle of
Unnumbered Tears there is mention of the Thraldom of the Noldoli, the
Mines of Melko, the Spell of Bottomless Dread, the shutting of Men in


Hisilome, and then 'Beren son of Egnor wandered out of Dor Lomin
into Artanor...' (In The Silmarillion the deeds of Beren and Luthien
preceded the Battle of Unnumbered Tears.)
Now in the Tale of Tinuviel there is a reference, in both versions, to
the 'thrall. Noldoli' who laboured in Hisilome and of Men dwelling there;
and as the passage introducing Beren was first written in the manuscript
his father was one of these slaves. It is said, again in both versions, that
neither Tinwelint nor the most part of his people went to the battle, but
that his lordship was greatly increased by fugitives from it (p.9); and to
the following statement that his dwelling was hidden by the magic of
Gwendeling/Melian the typescript adds the word 'thereafter' (p. 43), i.e.
after the Battle of Unnumbered Tears. In the changed passage in the
typescript referring to Egnor he is one of the chiefest foes of Melko 'in all
the kin of the Gnomes that still were free'.
All this seems to allow of only one conclusion: the events of the Tale of
Tinuviel took place after the great battle; and this seems to be clinched
by the express statement in the typescript: where the manuscript (p. 15)
says that Melko 'sought ever to destroy the friendship and intercourse of
Elves and Men', the second version adds (p. 44):'lest they forget the
Battle of Unnumbered Tears and once more arise in wrath against him'.
It is very odd, therefore, that Veanne should say at the beginning (in
the manuscript only, p. 10 and see p. 43) that she will tell 'of things that
happened in the halls of Tinwelint after the arising of the Sun indeed
but long ere the unforgotten Battle of Unnumbered Tears'. (This in
any case seems to imply a much longer period between the two events
than is suggested in the outlines for Gilfanon's Tale: see I.242).
This is repeated later (p. 17): 'it was a thing unthought... that any
Elf... should fare untended to the halls of Melko, even in those
earlier days before the Battle of Tears when Melko's power had not
grown great...' But it is stranger still that this second sentence is
retained in the typescript (p. 45). The typescript version has thus two
inescapably contradictory statements:
Melko 'sought ever to destroy the friendship and intercourse of Elves
and Men, lest they forget the Battle of Unnumbered Tears' (p. 44);
'Little love was there between the woodland Elves and the folk of
Angband even in those days before the Battle of Unnumbered Tears'
(p- 45)
Such a radical contradiction within a single text is in the highest degree
unusual, perhaps unique, in all the writings concerned with the First
Age. But I can see no way to explain it, other than simply accepting it as a
radical contradiction; nor indeed can I explain those statements in both
versions that the events of the tale took place before the battle, since
virtually all indications point to the contrary.*
* In the Tale of Turambar the story of Beren and Tinuviel clearly and
necessarily took
place before the Battle of Unnumbered Tears (pp. 71 -- 2, 140).



$3. Miscellaneous Matters.
(i) Morgoth.
Beren addresses Melko as 'most mighty Belcha Morgoth', which are said
to be his names among the Gnomes (p. 44). In the Gnomish dictionary
Belcha is-given as the Gnomish form corresponding to Melko (see
I.260), but Morgoth is not found in it: indeed this is the first and only
appearance of the name in the Lost Tales. The element goth is given in
the Gnomish dictionary with the meaning 'war, strife'; but if Morgoth
meant at this period 'Black Strife' it is perhaps strange that Beren should
use it in a flattering speech. A name-list made in the 193os explains
Morgoth as 'formed from his Orc-name Goth "Lord or Master"
with mor "dark or black" prefixed', but it seems very doubtful that
this etymology is valid for the earlier period. This name-list explains
Cothmog 'Captain of Balrogs' as containing the same Orc-element
('Voice of Goth (Morgoth)'); but in the name-list to the tale of The Fall
Condolin (p. 216) the name Cothmog is said to mean 'Strife-and-
hatred' (mog- 'detest, hate' appears in the Gnomish dictionary), which
supports the interpretation of Morgoth in the present tale as 'Black
Strife'.*
(ii) Orcs and Balrogs.
Despite the reference to 'the wandering bands of the goblins and the
Orcs' (p. 14, retained in the typescript version), the terms are certainly
synonymous in the Tale of Turambar. The Orcs are described in the
present tale (ibid.) as 'foul broodlings of Melko'. In the second version
(p. 44) wolf-rider Orcs appear.
Balrogs, mentioned in the tale (p. 15), have appeared in one of the
outlines for Gilfanon's Tale (I. 241); but they had already played an
Important part in the earliest of the Lost Tales, that of The Fall of
Condolin (see pp. 212 -- 13).

* Nothing is said in any text to suggest that Gothmog played such a role in
relation to
Morgoth as the interpretation 'Voice of Goth' implies, but nor is anything said
to contradict
it, and he was from the beginning an important figure in the evil realm and in
especial
relation to Melko (see p. 216). There is perhaps a reminiscence of 'the Voice
of Morgoth' in
the Mouth of Sauron', the Black Numenorean who was the Lieutenant of
Barad-dur (?he
Return of the King V. so).

(iii) Tinuviel's 'lengthening spell'.
Of the 'longest things' named in this spell (pp. 19 -- 20, 46) two, 'the sword
of Nan' and 'the neck of Gilim the giant', seem now lost beyond recall,
ough they survived into the spell in the Lay of Leithian, where the
sword of Nan is itself named, Clend, and Gilim is called 'the giant of



Eruman'. Gilim in the Gnomish dictionary means 'winter' (see I.260,
entry Melko), which does not seem particularly appropriate: though a
jotting, very difficult to read, in the little notebook used for memoranda
in connection with the Last Tales (see I. 171 ) seems to say that Nan was a
'giant of summer of the South', and that he was like an elm.
The Indravangs (Indrafangs in the typescript) are the 'Longbeards';
this is said in the Gnomish dictionary to be 'a special name of the
Nauglath or Dwarves' (see further the Tale of the Nauglafring, p. 247).
Karkaras (Carcaras in the typescript) 'Knife-fang' is named in the
spell since he was originally conceived as the 'father of wolves, who
guarded the gates of Angamandi in those days and long had done so'
(p. 21). In The Silmarillion (p. 180) he has a different history: chosen by,
Morgoth 'from among the whelps of the race of Draugluin' and reared to
be the death of Huan, he was set before the gates of Angband in that very
time. In The Silmarillion (ibid.) Carcharoth is rendered 'the Red Maw',
and this expression is used in the text of the tale (p. 34): 'both hand and
jewel Karkaras bit off and took into his red maw'.
Glorund is the name of the dragon in the Tale of Turambar (Glaurung
in The Silmarillion).
In the tale of The Chaining of Melko there is no suggestion that
Tulkas had any part in the making of the chain (there in the form
Angaino): I.100.
(iv) The influence of the Valar.
There is frequent suggestion that the Valar in some way exercised a
direct influence over the minds and hearts of the distant Elves in the
Great Lands. Thus it is said (p. 15) that the Valar must have inspired
Beren's ingenious speech to Melko, and while this may be no more than a
'rhetorical' flourish, it is clear that Tinuviel's dream of Beren is meant to
be accepted as 'a dream of the Valar' (p. 19). Again, 'the Valar set a new
hope in her heart' (p. 47); and later in Veanne's tale the Valar are seen as
active 'fates', guiding the destinies of the characters -- so the Valar
'brought' Huan to find Beren and Tinuviel in Nan Dumgorthin (p. 35),
and Tinuviel says to Tinwelint that 'the Valar alone saved Beren from s
bitter death' (p. 37).
II.
TURAMBAR AND THE FOALOKE.
The Tale of Turambar, like that of Tinuviel, is a manuscript written in
ink over a wholly erased original in pencil. But it seems certain that the
extant form of Turambar preceded the extant form of Tinuviel. This
can be deduced in more ways than one, but the order of composition is
clearly exemplified in the forms of the name of the King of the Woodland
Elves (Thingol). Throughout the manuscript of Turambar he was origin-
ally Tintoglin (and this appears also in the tale of The Coming of the
Elves, where it was changed to Tinwelint, I. II5, 131). A note on the
manuscript at the beginning of the tale says: 'Tintoglin's name must be
altered throughout to Ellon or Tinthellon = Q. Ellu', but the note was
struck out, and all through the tale Tintoglin was in fact changed to
Tinwelint.
Now in the Tale of Tinuviel the king's name was first given as Ellu (or
Tinto Ellu), and once as Tinthellon (pp. 50-1); subsequently it was
changed throughout to Tinwelint. It is clear that the direction to change
Tintoglin to 'Ellon or Tinthellon = Q. Ellu' belongs to the time when
the Tale of Tinuviel was being, or had been, rewritten, and that the
extant Tale of Turambar already existed.
There is also the fact that the rewritten Tinuviel was followed, at the
same time of composition, by the first form of the 'interlude' in which
Gilfanon appears (see I.203), whereas at the beginning of Turambar
there is a reference to Ailios (who was replaced by Gilfanon) concluding
the previous tale. On the different arrangement of the tale-telling at this
point that my father subsequently introduced but failed to carry through
see 1.229 -- 30. According to the earlier arrangement, Ailios told his tale
on the first night of the feast of Turuhalme or the Logdrawing, and Eltas
followed with the Tale of Turambar on the second.
There is evidence that the Tale of Turambar was in existence at any
rate by the middle of 1919. Humphrey Carpenter discovered a passage,
written on a scrap of proof for the Oxford English Dictionary, in an early
alphabet of my father's devising; and transliterating it he found it to be
from this tale, not far from the beginning. He has told me that my father
was using this version of the 'Alphabet of Rumil' about June 1919 (see
Biography, p. 100).
When then Ailios had spoken his fill the time for the lighting of
candles was at hand, and so came the first day of Turuhalme to an


end; but on the second night Ailios was not there, and being asked
by Lindo one Eltas began a tale, and said:
'Now all folk gathered here know that this is the story of .
Turambar and the Foaloke, and it is,' said he, 'a favourite tale
among Men, and tells of very ancient days of that folk before the
Battle of Tasarinan when first Men entered the dark vales of
Hisilome.
In these days many such stories do Men tell still, and more have
they told in the past especially in those kingdoms of the North that
once I knew. Maybe the deeds of other of their warriors have
become mingled therein, and many matters beside that are not in
the most ancient tale -- but now I will tell to you the true and
lamentable tale, and I knew it long ere I trod Olore Malle in the
days before the fall of Gondolin.
In those days my folk dwelt in a vale of Hisilome and that land
did Men name Aryador in the tongues they then used, but they
were very far from the shores of Asgon and the spurs of the Iron
Mountains were nigh to their dwellings and great woods of very
gloomy trees. My father said to me that many of our older men
venturing afar had themselves seen the evil worms of Melko and
some had fallen before them, and by reason of the hatred of our
people for those creatures and of the evil Vala often was the story
of Turambar and the Foaloke in.their mouths -- but rather after the
fashion of the Gnomes did they say Turumart and the Fuithlug.
For know that before the Battle of Lamentation and the ruin of
the Noldoli there dwelt a lord of Men named Urin, and hearkening
to the summons of the Gnomes he and his folk marched with the
Ilkorindi against Melko, but their wives and children they left
behind them in the woodlands, and with them was Mavwin wife of
Urin, and her son remained with her, for he was not yet war-high.
Now the name of that boy was Turin and is so in all tongues, but
Mavwin do the Eldar call Mavoine.
Now Urin and his followers fled not from that battle as did most
of the kindreds of Men, but many of them were slain fighting to
the last, and Urin was made captive. Of the Noldoli who fought
there all the companies were slain or captured or fled away in rout,
save that of Turondo (Turgon) only, and he and his folk cut a path
for themselves out of that fray and come not into this tale. None-
theless the escape of that great company marred the complete
victory that otherwise had Melko won over his adversaries, and he
desired very greatly to discover whither they had fled; and this he
might not do, for his spies availed nothing, and no tortures at that

time had power to force treacherous knowledge from the captive
Noldoli.
Knowing therefore that the Elves of Kor thought little of Men,
holding them in scant fear or suspicion for their blindness and lack
of skill, he would constrain Urin to take up his employ and go seek
after Turondo as a spy of Melko. To this however neither threats
of torture nor promises of rich reward would bring Urin to con-
sent, for he said: "Nay, do as thou wilt, for to no evil work of thine
wilt thou ever constrain me, 0 Melko, thou foe of Gods and Men."
"Of a surety," said Melko in anger, "to no work of mine will I
bid thee again, nor yet will I force thee thereto, but upon deeds of
mine that will be little to thy liking shalt thou sit here and gaze, nor
be able to move foot or hand against them." And this was the
torture he devised for the affliction of Urin the Steadfast, and
setting him in a lofty place of the mountains he stood beside him
and cursed him and his folk with dread curses of the Valar, putting
a doom of woe and a death of sorrow upon them; but to Urin he
gave a measure of vision, so that much of those things that befell
his wife and children he might see and be helpless to aid, for magic
held him in that high place. "Behold." said Melko, "the life of
Turin thy son shall be accounted a matter for tears wherever Elves
or Men are gathered for the telling of tales"; but Urin said: "At
least none shall pity him for this, that he had a craven for father."
Now after that battle Mavwin got her in tears into the land of
Hithlum or Dor Lomin where all Men must now dwell by the
word of Melko, save some wild few that yet roamed without.
There was Nienori born to her, but her husband Urin languished
in the thraldom of Melko, and Turin being yet a small boy
Mavwin knew not in her distress how to foster both him and his
sister, for Urin's men had all perished in the great affray, and the
strange men who dwelt nigh knew not the dignity of the Lady
Mavwin, and all that land was dark and little kindly.
The next short section of the text was struck through afterwards and
replaced by a rider on an attached slip. The rejected passage reads:
At that time the rumour [written above: memory] of the
deeds of Beren Ermabwed had become noised much in Dor
Lomin, wherefore it came into the heart of Mavwin, for lack of
better counsel, to send Turin to the court of Tintoglin,' begging
him to foster this orphan for the memory of Beren, and to teach
him the wisdom of fays and of Eldar; now Egnor* was akin to
Mavwin and he was the father of Beren the One-handed.



The replacement passage reads:
Amended passage to fit better with the story of Tinuviel and
the afterhistory of the Nauglafring:
The tale tells however that Urin had been a friend of the Elves,
and in this he was different from many of his folk. Now great had
his friendship been with Egnor, the Elf of the greenwood, the
huntsman of the Gnomes, and Beren Ermabwed son of Egnor he
knew and had rendered him a service once in respect of Damrod
his son; but the deeds of Beren of the One Hand in the halls of
Tinwelint' were remembered still in Dor Lomin. Wherefore it
came into the heart of Mavwin, for lack of other counsel, to send
Turin her son to the court of Tinwelint, begging him to foster this
orphan for the memory of Urin and of Beren son of Egnor.'
Very bitter indeed was that sundering, and for long [?time]
Turin wept and would not leave his mother, and this was the first
of the many sorrows that befell him in life. Yet at length when his
mother had reasoned with him he gave way and prepared him in
anguish for that journey. With him went two old men, retainers
aforetime of his father Urin, and when all was ready and the
farewells taken they turned their feet towards the dark hills, and
the little dwelling of Mavwin was lost in the trees, and Turin blind
with tears could see her no more. Then ere they passed out of
earshot he cried out: "0 Mavwin my mother, soon will I come
back to thee" -- but he knew not that the doom of Melko lay
between them.
Long and very weary and uncertain was the road over the dark
hills of Hithlum into the great forests of the Land Beyond where in
those days Tinwelint the hidden king had his abode; and Turin
son of Urin' was the first of Men to tread that way, nor have many
trodden it since. In perils were Turin and his guardians of wolves,
and wandering Orcs that at that time fared even thus far from
Angband as the power of Melko waxed and spread over the
kingdoms of the North. Evil magics were about them, that often
missing their way they wandered fruitlessly for many days, yet in
the end did they win through and thanked the Valar therefor -- yet
maybe it was but part of the fate that Melko wove about their feet,
for in after time Turin would fain have perished as a child there in
the dark woods.
Howso that may be, this was the manner of their coming to




Tinwelint's halls; for in the woodlands beyond the mountains
they became utterly lost, until at length having no means of
sustenance they were like to die, when they were discovered by a
wood-ranger, a huntsman of the secret Elves, and he was called
Beleg, for he was of great stature and girth as such was among that
folk. Then Beleg led them by devious paths through many dark
and lonely forestlands to the banks of that shadowed stream before
the cavernous doors of Tinwelint's halls. Now coming before that
king they were received well for the memory of Urin the Steadfast,
and when also the king heard of the bond tween Urin and Beren
the One-handed' and of the plight of that lady Mavwin his heart
became softened and he granted her desire, nor would he send
Turin away, but rather said he: "Son of Urin, thou shalt dwell
sweetly in my woodland court, nor even so as a retainer, but
behold as a second child of mine shalt thou be, and all the wisdoms
of Gwedheling and of myself shalt thou be taught."
After a time therefore when the travellers had rested he des-
patched the younger of the two guardians of Turin back unto
Mavwin, for such was that man's desire to die in the service of the
wife of Urin, yet was an escort of Elves sent with him, and such
comfort and magics for the journey as could be devised, and
moreover these words did he bear from Tinwelint to Mavwin:
"Behold 0 Lady Mavwin wife of Urin the Steadfast, not for love
nor for fear of Melko but of the wisdom of my heart and the fate of
the Valar did I not go with my folk to the Battle of Unnumbered
Tears, who now am become a safety and a refuge for all who
fearing evil may find the secret ways that lead to the protection of
my halls. Perchance now is there no other bulwark left against the
arrogance of the Vala of Iron, for men say Turgon is not slain, but
who knoweth the truth of it or how long he may escape? Now
therefore shall thy son Turin be fostered here as my own child
until he is of age to succour thee -- then, an he will, he may depart."
More too he bid the Lady Mavwin, might she o'ercome the
journey, fare back also to his halls, and dwell there in peace; but
this when she heard she did not do, both for the tenderness of her
little child Nienori, and for that rather would she dwell poor
among Men than live sweetly as an almsguest even among the
woodland Elves. It may be too that she clung to that dwelling that
Urin had set her in ere he went to the great war, hoping still faintly
for his return, for none of the messengers that had borne the
lamentable tidings from that field might say that he was dead,
reporting only that none knew where he might be -- yet in truth


those messengers were few and half-distraught, and now the years
were slowly passing since the last blow fell on that most grievous
day. Indeed in after days she yearned to look again upon Turin,
and maybe in the end, when Nienori had grown, had cast aside her
pride and fared over the hills, had not these become impassable
for the might and great magic of Melko, who hemmed all Men in
Hithlum and slew such as dared beyond its walls.
Thus came to pass the dwelling of Turin in the halls of Tin-
welint; and with him was suffered to dwell Gumlin the aged who
had fared with him out of Hithlum, and had no heart or strength
for the returning. Very much joy had he in that sojourn, yet did
the sorrow of his sundering from Mavwin fall never quite away
from him; great waxed his strength of body and the stoutness of
his feats got him praise wheresoever Tinwelint was held as lord,
yet he was a silent boy and often gloomy, and he got not love easily
and fortune did not follow him, for few things that he desired
greatly came to him and many things at which he laboured went
awry. For nothing however did he grieve so much as the ceasing of
all messengers between Mavwin and himself, when after a few
years as has been told the hills became untraversable and the ways
were shut. Now Turin was seven years old when he fared to the
woodland Elves, and seven years he dwelt there while tidings
came ever and anon to him from his mother, so that he heard how
his sister Nienori grew to a slender maid and very fair, and how
things grew better in Hithlum and his mother more in peace; and
then all words ceased, and the years passed.
To ease his sorrow and the rage of his heart, that remembered
always how Urin and his folk had gone down in battle against
Melko, Turin was for ever ranging with the most warlike of the
folk of Tinwelint far abroad, and long ere he was grown to first
manhood he slew and took hurts in frays with the Orcs that
prowled unceasingly upon the confines of the realm and were a
menace to the Elves. Indeed but for his prowess much hurt had
that folk sustained, and he held the wrath of Melko from them for
many years, and after his days they were harassed sorely, and in
the end must have been cast into thraldom had not such great and
dread events befallen that Melko forgot them.
Now about the courts of Tinwelint there dwelt an Elf called
Orgof, and he, as were the most of that king's folk, was an Ilkorin,
yet he had Gnome-blood also. Of his mother's side he was nearly
akin to the king himself, and was in some favour being a good



hunter and an Elf of prowess, yet was he somewhat loose with his
tongue and overweening by reason of his favour with the king; yet
of nothing was he so fain as of fine raiment and of jewels and of
gold and silver ornament, and was ever himself clad most bravely.
Now Turin lying continually in the woods and travailing in far and
lonely places grew to be uncouth of raiment and wild of locks, and
Orgof made jest of him whensoever the twain sat at the king's
board; but Turin said never a word to his foolish jesting, and
indeed at no time did he give much heed to words that were spoken
to him, and the eyes beneath his shaggy brows oftentimes looked
as to a great distance -- so that he seemed to see far things and to
listen to sounds of the woodland that others heard not.
On a time Turin sate at meat with the king, and it was that day
twelve years since he had gazed through his tears upon Mavwin
standing before the doors and weeping as he made his way among
the trees, until their stems had taken her from his sight, and he was
moody, speaking curt answers to those that sat nigh him, and most
of all to Orgof.
But this fool would not give him peace, making a laugh of his
rough clothes and tangled hair, for Turin had then come new from
a long abiding in the woods, and at length he drew forth daintily a
comb of gold that he had and offered it to Turin; and having
drunk well, when Turin deigned not to notice him he said: "Nay,
an thou knowst not how to use a comb, hie thee back to thy
mother, for she perchance will teach thee -- unless in sooth the
women of Hithlum be as ugly as their sons and as little kempt."
Then a fierce anger born of his sore heart and these words con-
cerning the lady Mavwin blazed suddenly in Turin's breast, so
that he seized a heavy drinking-vessel of gold that lay by his right
hand and unmindful of his strength he cast it with great force in
Orgof's teeth, saying: "Stop thy mouth therewith', fool, and prate
no more." But Orgof's face was broken and he fell back with great
weight, striking his head upon the stone of the floor and dragging
upon him the table and all its vessels, and he spake nor prated
again, for he was dead.
Then all men rose in silence, but Turin, gazing aghast upon the
body of Orgof and the spilled wine upon his hand, turned on his
heel and strode into the night; and some that were akin to Orgof
drew their weapons half from their sheaths, yet none struck, for
the king gave no sign but stared stonily upon the body of Orgof,
and very great amaze was in his face. But Turin laved his hands in
the stream without the doors and burst there into tears, saying:



"Lo! Is there a curse upon me, for all I do is ill, and now is it so
turned that I must flee the house of my fosterfather an outlaw
guilty of blood -- nor look upon the faces of any I love again." And
in his heart he dared not return to Hithlum lest his mother be
bitterly grieved at his disgrace, or perchance he might draw the
wrath of the Elves behind him to his folk; wherefore he got himself
far away, and when men came to seek him he might not be found.
Yet they did not seek his harm, although he knew it not, for
Tinwelint despite his grief and the ill deed pardoned him, and the
most of his folk were with him in that, for Turin had long held his
peace or returned courtesy to the folly of Orgof, though stung
often enough thereby, for that Elf being not a little jealous was
used to barb his words; and now therefore the near kinsmen of
Orgof were constrained by fear of Tinwelint and by many gifts to
accept the king's doom.
Yet Turin in unhappiness, believing the hand of all against him
and the heart of the king become that of a foe, crept to the
uttermost bounds of that woodland realm. There he hunted for
his subsistence, being a good shot with the bow, yet he rivalled not
the Elves at that, for rather at the wielding of the sword was he
mightier than they. To him gathered a few wild spirits, and
amongst them was Beleg the huntsman, who had rescued Gumlin
and Turin in the woods aforetime. Now in many adventures were
those twain together, Beleg the Elf and Turin the Man, which are
not now told or remembered but which once were sung in many a
place. With beast and with goblin they warred and fared at times
into far places unknown to the Elves, and the fame of the hidden
hunters of the marches began to be heard among Orcs and Elves,
so that perchance Tinwelint would soon have become aware of the
place of Turin's abiding, had not upon a time all that band of
Turin's fallen into desperate encounter with a host of Orcs who
outnumbered them three times. All were there slain save Turin
and Beleg, and Beleg escaped with wounds, but Turin was over-
borne and bound, for such was the will of Melko that he be brought
to him alive; for behold, dwelling in the halls of Linwe' about
which had that fay Gwedheling the queen woven much magic and
mystery and such power of spells as can come only from Valinor,
whence indeed long time agone she once had brought them, Turin
had been lost out of his sight, and he feared lest he cheat the doom
that was devised for him. Therefore now he purposed to entreat
him grievously before the eyes of Urin; but Urin had called upon
the Valar of the West, being taught much concerning them by the

Eldar of Kor -- the Gnomes he had encountered -- and his words
came, who shall say how, to Manwe Sulimo upon the heights of
Taniquetil, the Mountain of the World. Nonetheless was Turin
dragged now many an evil league in sore distress, a captive of the
pitiless Orcs, and they made slow journeying, for they followed
ever the line of dark hills toward those regions where they rise high
and gloomy and their heads are shrouded in black vapours. There
are they called Angorodin or the Iron Mountains, for beneath the
roots of their northernmost fastnesses lies Angband, the Hells of
Iron, most grievous of all abodes -- and thither were they now
making laden with booty and with evil deeds.
Know then that in those days still was Hithlum and the Lands
Beyond full of the wild Elves and of Noldoli yet free, fugitives of
the old battle; and some wandered ever wearily, and others had
secret and hidden abodes in caves or woodland fastnesses, but
Melko sought untiringly after them and most pitilessly did he
entreat them of all his thralls did he capture them. Orcs and
dragons and evil fays were loosed against them and their lives were
full of sorrow and travail, so that those who found not in the end
the realms of Tinwelint nor the secret stronghold of the king of the
city of stone* perished or were enslaved.
Noldoli too there were who were under the evil enchantments of
Melko and wandered as in a dream of fear, doing his ill bidding,
for the spell of bottomless dread was on them and they felt the eyes
of Melko burn them from afar. Yet often did these sad Elves both
thrall and free hear the voice of Ulmo in the streams or by the
sea-marge where the waters of Sirion mingled with the waves; for
Ulmo, of all the Valar, still thought of them most tenderly and
designed with their slender aid to bring Melko's evil to ruin., Then
remembering the blessedness of Valinor would they at times cast
away their fear, doing good deeds and aiding both Elves and Men
against the Lord of Iron.
Now was it that it came into the heart of Beleg the hunter of the
Elves to seek after Turin so soon as his own hurts were healed.
This being done in no great number of days, for he had a skill of
healing, he made all speed after the band of Orcs, and he had need
of all his craft as tracker to follow that trail, for a band of the
goblins of Melko go cunningly and very light. Soon was he far
beyond any regions known to him, yet for love of Turin he pressed
on, and in this did he show courage greater than the most of that
(* Gondolin.)



woodland folk, and indeed there are none who may now measure
the depth of fear and anguish that Melko set in the hearts of Men
and of Elves in those sad days. Thus did it fall out that Beleg
became lost and benighted in a dark and perilous region so thick
with pines of giant growth that none but the goblins might find a
track, having eyes that pierced the deepest gloom, yet were many
even of these lost long time in those regions; and they were called
by the Noldoli Taurfuin, the Forest of Night. Now giving himself
up for lost Beleg lay with his back to a mighty tree and listened to
the wind in the gaunt tops of the forest many fathoms above him,
and the moaning of the night airs and the creaking of the branches
was full of sorrow and foreboding, and his heart became utterly
weary.
On a sudden he noticed a little light afar among the trees steady
and pale as it were of a glowworm very bright, yet thinking it
might scarce be glowworm in such a place he crept towards it.
Now the Noldoli that laboured in the earth and aforetime had skill
of crafts in metals and gems in Valinor were the most valued of the
thralls of Melko, and he suffered them not to stray far away, and so
it was that Beleg knew not that these Elves had little lanterns of
strange fashion, and they were of silver and of crystal and a flame
of a pale blue burnt forever within, and this was a secret and the
jewel-makers among them alone knew it nor would they reveal it
even to Melko, albeit many jewels and many magic lights they
were constrained to make for him.
Aided by these lamps the Noldoli fared much at night, and
seldom lost a path had they but once trodden it before. So it was
that drawing near Beleg beheld one of the hill-gnomes stretched
upon the needles beneath a great pine asleep, and his blue lantern
stood glimmering nigh his head. Then Beleg awakened him, and
that Elf started up in great fear and anguish, and Beleg learned
that he was a fugitive from the mines of Melko and named himself
Flinding bo-Dhuilin of an ancient house of the Gnomes. Now
falling into talk Flinding was overjoyed to have speech with a free
Noldo, and told many tales of his flight from the uttermost fastness
of the mines of Melko; and at length said he: "When I thought
myself all but free, lo, I strayed at night unwarily into the midmost
of an Orc-camp, and they were asleep and much spoil and weighted
packs they had, and many captive Elves I thought I descried: and
one there was that lay nigh to a trunk to which he was bound most
grievously, and he moaned and cried out bitterly against Melko,
calling on the names of Urin and Mavwin; and though at that time


being a craven from long captivity I fled heedlessly, now do I
marvel much, for who of the thralls of Angband has not known of
Urin the Steadfast who alone of Men defies Melko chained in
torment upon a bitter peak?"
Then was Beleg in great eagerness and sprang to his feet shout-
ing: "'Tis Turin, fosterson of Tinwelint, even he whom I seek,
who was the son of Urin long ago. -- Nay, lead me to this camp, 0
son of Duilin, and soon shall he be free," but Flinding was much
afeared, saying: "Softer words, my Beleg, for the Orcs have ears of
cats, and though a day's march lies between me and that encamp-
ment who knows whether they be not followed after."
Nonetheless hearing the story of Turin from Beleg, despite his
dread he consented to lead Beleg to that place, and long ere the sun
rose on the day or its fainting beams crept into that dark forest they
were upon the road, guided by the dancing light of Flinding's
swinging lamp. Now it happened that in their journeying their
paths crossed that of the Orcs who now were renewing their
march, but in a direction other than that they had for long pur-
sued, for now fearing the escape of their prisoner they made for a
place where they knew the trees were thinner and a track ran for
many a league easy to pursue; wherefore that evening, or ever they
came to the spot that Flinding sought, they heard a shouting and a
rough singing that was afar in the woods but drawing near; nor did
they hide too soon ere the whole of that Orc-band passed nigh to
them, and some of the captains were mounted upon small horses,
and to one of these was Turin tied by the wrists so that he must
trot or be dragged cruelly. Then did Beleg and Flinding follow
timorously after as dusk fell on the forest, and when that band
encamped they lurked near until all was quiet save the moaning of
the captives. Now Flinding covered his lamp with a pelt and they
crept near, and behold the goblins slept, for it was not their wont
to keep fire or watch in their bivouacs, and for guard they trusted
to certain fierce wolves that went always with their bands as dogs
with Men, but slept not when they camped, and their eyes shone
like points of red light among the trees. Now was Flinding in sore
dread, but Beleg bid him follow, and the two crept between the
wolves at a point where there was a great gap between them, and as
the luck of the Valar had it Turin was lying nigh, apart from the
others, and Beleg came unseen to his side and would cut his
bonds, when he found his knife had dropped from his side in his
creeping and his sword he had left behind without the camp.
Therefore now, for they dare not risk the creeping forth and back

again, do Beleg and Flinding both stout men essay to carry him
sleeping soundly in utter weariness stealthily from the camp, and
this they did, and it has ever been thought a great feat, and few
have done the like in passing the wolf guards of the goblins and
despoiling their camps.
Now in the woods at no great distance from the camp they laid
him down, for they might not bear him further, seeing that he was
a Man and of greater stature than they," but Beleg fetched his
sword and would cut his bonds forthwith. The bonds about his
wrists he severed first and was cutting those upon the ankles when
blundering in the dark he pricked Turin's foot deeply, and Turin
awoke in fear. Now seeing a form bend over him in the gloom
sword in hand and feeling the smart of his foot he thought it was
one of the Orcs come to slay him or to torment him -- and this they
did often, cutting him with knives or hurting him with spears; but
now Turin feeling his hand free leapt up and flung all his weight
suddenly upon Beleg, who fell and was half-crushed, lying speech-
less on the ground; but Turin at the same time seized the sword
and struck it through Beleg's throat or ever Flinding might know
what had betid. Then Turin leapt back and shouting out curses
upon the goblins bid them come and slay him or taste of his sword,
for he fancied himself in the midst of their camp, and thought not
of flight but only of selling his life dear. Now would he have made
at Flinding, but that Gnome sprang back, dropping his lamp, so
that its cover slipped and the light of it shone forth, and he called
out in the tongue of the Gnomes that Turin should hold-his hand
and slay not his friends -- then did Turin hearing his speech pause,
and as he stood, by the light of the lamp he saw the white face of
Beleg lying nigh his feet with pierced throat, and he stood as one
stricken to stone, and such was the look upon his face that Flinding
dared not speak for a long while. Indeed little mind had he for
words, for by that light had he also seen the fate of Beleg and was
very bitter in heart. At length however it seemed to Flinding that
the Orcs were astir, and so it was, for the shouts of Turin had come
to them; wherefore he said to Turin: "The Orcs are upon us, let us
flee," but Turin answered not, and Flinding shook him, bidding
him gather his wits or perish, and then Turin did as he was bid but
yet as one dazed, and stooping he raised Beleg and kissed his
mouth.
Then did Flinding guide Turin as well as he might swiftly from
those regions, and Turin wandered with him following as he led,
and at length for a while they had shaken off pursuit and could



breathe again. Now then did Flinding have space to tell Turin
all he knew and of his meeting with Beleg, and the floods of
Turin's tears were loosed, and he wept bitterly, for Beleg had been
his comrade often in many deeds; and this was the third anguish
that befell Turin, nor did he lose the mark of that sorrow utterly in
all his life; and long he wandered with Flinding caring little
whither he went, and but for that Gnome soon would he have been
recaptured or lost, for he thought only of the stark face of Beleg the
huntsman, lying in the dark forest slain by his hand even as he cut
the bonds of thraldom from him.
In that time was Turin's hair touched with grey, despite his few
years. Long time however did Turin and the Noldo journey
together, and by reason of the magic of that lamp fared by night
and hid by day and were lost in the hills, and the Orcs found them
not.
Now in the mountains there was a place of caves above a stream,
and that stream ran down to feed the river Sirion, but grass grew
before the doors of the caves, and these were cunningly concealed
by trees and such magics as those scattered bands that dwelt
therein remembered still. Indeed at this time this place had grown
to be a strong dwelling of the folk and many a fugitive swelled
them, and there the ancient arts and works of the Noldoli came
once more to life albeit in a rude and rugged fashion.
There was smithying in secret and forging of good weapons,
and even fashioning of some fair things beside, and the women
spun once more and wove, and at times was gold quarried privily
in places nigh, where it was found, so that deep in those caverns
might vessels of beauty be seen in the flame of secret lights, and
old songs were faintly sung. Yet did the dwellers in the caves flee
always before the Orcs and never give battle unless compelled by
mischance or were they able to so entrap them that all might be
slain and none escape alive; and this they did of policy that no
tidings reach Melko of their dwelling nor might he suspect any
numerous gathering of folk in those parts.
This place however was known to the Noldo Flindirig who fared
with Turin; indeed he was once of that people long since, before
the Orcs captured him and he was held in thraldom. Thither did
he now wend being sure that the pursuit came no longer nigh
them, yet went he nonetheless by devious ways, so that it was long
ere they drew nigh.to that region, and the spies and watchers of the
Rodothlim (for so were that folk named) gave warning of their

approach, and the folk withdrew before them, such as were abroad
from their dwelling. Then they closed their doors and hoped that
the strangers might not discover their caves, for they feared and
mistrusted all unknown folk of whatever race, so evil were the
lessons of that dreadful time.
Now then Flinding and Turin dared even to the caves' mouths,
and perceiving that these twain knew now the paths thereto the
Rodothlim sallied and made them prisoners and drew them within
their rocky halls, and they were led before the chief, Orodreth.
Now the free Noldoli at that time feared much those of their kin
who had tasted thraldom, for compelled by fear and torture and
spells much treachery had they wrought; even thus did the evil
deeds of the Gnomes at Copas Alqalunten find vengeance,' setting
Gnome against Gnome, and the Noldoli cursed the day that ever
they first hearkened to the deceit of Melko, rueing utterly their
departure from the blessed realm of Valinor.
Nonetheless when Orodreth heard the tale of Flinding and
knew it to be true he welcomed him with joy back among the folk,
yet was that Gnome so changed by the anguish of his slavery that
few knew him again; but for Flinding's sake Orodreth hearkened
to the tale of Turin, and Turin told of his travails and named Urin
as his sire, nor had the Gnomes yet forgot that name. Then was
the heart of Orodreth made kind and he bade them dwell among
the Rodothlim and be faithful to him. So came the sojourn of
Turin among the people of the caves, and he dwelt with Flinding
bo-Dhuilin and laboured much for the good of the folk, and slew
many a wandering Orc, and did doughty deeds in their defence. In
return much did he learn of new wisdom from them, for memories
of Valinor burnt yet deep in their wild hearts, and greater still was
their wisdom than that of such Eldar as had seen never the blest
faces of the Gods.
Among that people was a very fair maiden and she was named
Failivrin, and her father was Galweg; and this Gnome had a liking
for Turin and aided him much, and Turin was often with him in
ventures and good deeds. Now many a tale of these did Galweg
make beside his hearth and Turin was often at his board, and the
heart of Failivrin became moved at the sight of him, and wondered
often at his gloom and sadness, pondering what sorrow lay locked
in his breast, for Turin went not gaily being weighted with the
death of,Beleg that he felt upon his head, and he suffered not his
heart to be moved, although he was glad of her sweetness; but he
deemed himself an outlawed man and one burdened with a heavy



!

doom of ill. Therefore did Failivrin become sorrowful and wept in
secret, and she grew so pale that folk marvelled at the whiteness
and delicacy of her face and her bright eyes that shone therein.
Now came a time when the Orc-bands and the evil things of
Melko drew ever nigher to the dwelling of this folk, and despite
the good spells that ran in the stream beneath it seemed like that
their abode would remain no longer hidden. It is said however
that during all this time the dwelling of Turin in the caves and
his deeds among the Rodothlim were veiled from Melko's eyes,
and that he infested not the Rodothlim for Turin's sake nor out
of design, but rather it was the ever increasing numbers of these
creatures and their growing power and fierceness that brought
them so far afield. Nonetheless the blindness and ill-fortune that
he wove of old clung yet to Turin, as may be seen.
Each day grew the brows of the chiefs of the Rodothlim more
dark, and dreams came to them" bidding them arise and depart
swiftly and secretly, seeking, if it might be, after Turgon, for with
him might yet salvation be found for the Gnomes. Whispers too
there were in the stream at eve, and those among them skilled
to hear such voices added their foreboding at the councils of the
folk. Now at these councils had Turin won him a place by dint of
many valorous deeds, and he gainsaid their fears, trusting in his
strength, for he lusted ever for war with the creatures of Melko,
and he upbraided the men of the folk, saying: "Lo! Ye have
weapons of great excellence of workmanship, and yet are the most
of them clean of your foes' blood. Remember ye the Battle of
Uncounted Tears and forget not your folk that there fell, nor seek
ever to flee, but fight and stand."
Now despite the wisdom of their wisest such bitter words
confused their counsels and delayed them, and there were no few
of the stout-hearted that found hope in them, being sad at the
thought of abandoning those places where they had begun to make
an abiding place of peace and goodliness; but Turin begged
Orodreth for a sword, and he had not wielded a sword since the
slaying of Beleg, but rather had he been contented with a mighty
club. Now then Orodreth let fashion for him a great sword, and it
was made by magic to be utterly black save at its edges, and those
were shining bright and sharp as but Gnome-steel may be. Heavy
it was, and was sheathed in black, and it hung from a sable belt,
and Turin named it Gurtholfin the Wand of Death; and often that
blade leapt in his hand of its own lust, and it is said that at times it
spake dark words to him. Therewith did he now range the hills,



and slew unceasingly, so that Blacksword of the Rodothlim became
a name of terror to the Orcs, and for a great season all evil was
fended from the caverns of the Gnomes. Hence comes that name
of Turin's among the Gnomes, calling him Mormagli or Mormakil
according to their speech, for these names signify black sword.
The greater however did Turin's valour become so grew the
love of Failivrin more deep, and did men murmur against him in
his absence she spake for him, and sought ever to minister to him,
and her he treated ever courteously and happily, saying he had
found a fair sister in the Gnome-lands. By Turin's deeds however
was the ancient counsel of the Rodothlim set aside and their abode
made known far and wide, nor was Melko ignorant of it, yet many
of the Noldoli now fled to them and their strength waxed and
Turin was held in great honour among them. Then were days of
great happiness and for a while men lived openly again and might
fare far abroad from their homes in safety, and many boasted of
the salvation of the Noldoli, while Melko gathered in secret his
great hordes. These did he loose suddenly upon them at unawares,
and they gathered their warriors in great haste and went against
him, but behold, an army of Orcs descended upon them, and
wolves, and Orcs mounted upon wolves; and a great worm was
with them whose scales were polished bronze and whose breath
was a mingled fire and smoke, and his name was Glorund." All the
men of the Rodothlim fell or were taken in that battle, for the foe
was numberless, and that was the most bitter affray since the evil
field of Ninin-Udathriol.* Orodreth was there sorely hurt and
Turin bore him out of the fight ere yet all was ended, and with the
aid of Flinding whose wounds were not great" he got him to the
caves.
There died Orodreth, reproaching Turin that he had ever
withstood his wise counsels, and Turin's heart was bitter at the
ruin of the folk that was set to his account." Then leaving Lord
Orodreth dead Turin went to the places of Galweg's abiding, and
there was Failivrin weeping bitterly at the tidings of her father's
death, but Turin sought to comfort her, and for the pain of.
her heart and the sorrow of her father's death and of the ruin
of her folk she swooned upon his breast and cast her arms about
(* At the bottom of the manuscript page is written:
'Nieriltasinwa the battle of unnumbered tears
Glorund laurundo or Undolaure'
Later Glorund and Laurundo were emended to Glorunt and Laurunto.)
him. So deep was the ruth of Turin's heart that in that hour he
deemed he loved her very dearly; yet were now he and Flinding
alone save for a few aged carles and dying men, and the Orcs
having despoiled the field of dead were nigh upon them.
Thus stood Turin before the doors with Gurtholfin in hand,
and Flinding was beside him; and the Orcs fell on that place and
ransacked it utterly, dragging out all the folk that lurked therein
and all their goods, whatsoever of great or little worth might there
lie hid. But Turin denied the entrance of Galweg's dwelling to
them, and they fell thick about him, until a company of their
archers standing at a distance shot a cloud of arrows at him. Now
he wore chainmail such as all the warriors of the Gnomes have ever
loved and still do wear, yet it turned not all those ill shafts, and
already was he sore hurt when Flinding fell pierced suddenly
through the eye; and soon too had he met his death -- and his weird
had been the happier thereby -- had not that great drake coming
now upon the sack bidden them cease their shooting; but with the
power of his breath he drove Turin from those doors and with the
magic of his eyes he bound him hand and foot.
Now those drakes and worms are the evillest creatures that
Melko has made, and the most uncouth, yet of all are they the
most powerful, save it be the Balrogs only. A great cunning
and wisdom have they, so that it has been long said amongst
Men that whosoever might taste the heart of a dragon would
know all tongues of Gods or Men, of birds or beasts, and his
ears would catch whispers of the Valar or of Melko such as never
had he heard before. Few have there been that ever achieved a
deed of such prowess as the slaying of a drake, nor might any
even of such doughty ones taste their blood and live, for it is
as a poison of fires that slays all save the most godlike in strength.
Howso that may be, even as their lord these foul beasts love lies
and lust after gold and precious things with a great fierceness of
desire, albeit they may not use nor enjoy them.
Thus was it that this loke (for so do the Eldar name the worms
of Melko) suffered the Orcs to slay whom they would and to gather
whom they listed into a very great and very sorrowful throng of
women, maids, and little children, but all the mighty treasure that
they had brought from the rocky halls and heaped glistering in the
sun before the doors he coveted for himself and forbade them set
finger on it, and they durst not withstand him, nor could they have
done so an they would.
In that sad band stood Failivrin in horror, and she stretched out

her arms towards Turin, but Turin was held by the spell of the
drake, for that beast had a foul magic in his glance, as have many
others of his kind, and he turned the sinews of Turin as it were to
stone, for his eye held Turin's eye so that his will died, and he
could not stir of his own purpose, yet might he see and hear.
Then did Glorund taunt Turin nigh to madness, saying that lo!
he had cast away his sword nor had the heart to strike a blow for his
friends -- now Turin's sword lay at his feet whither it had slipped
from his unnerved grasp. Great was the agony of Turin's heart
thereat, and the Orcs laughed at him, and of the captives some
cried bitterly against him. Even now did the Orcs begin to drive
away that host of thralls, and his heart broke at the sight, yet he
moved not; and the pale face of Failivrin faded afar, and her voice
was borne to him crying: "0 Turin Mormakil, where is thy heart;
0 my beloved, wherefore dost thou forsake me?" So great then
became Turin's anguish that even the spell of that worm might not
restrain it, and crying aloud he reached for the sword at his feet
and would wound the drake with it, but the serpent breathed a
foul and heated breath upon him, so that he swooned and thought
that it was death.
A long time thereafter, and the tale telleth not how long,
he came to himself, and he was lying gazing at the sun before
the doors, and his head rested against a heap of gold even as the
ransackers had left it. Then said the drake, who was hard by:
"Wonderest thou not wherefore I have withheld death from thee,
O Turin Mormakil, who wast once named brave?" Then Turin
remembered all his griefs and the evil that had fallen upon him,
and he said: "Taunt me not, foul worm, for thou knowest I would
die; and for that alone, methinks, thou slayest me not."
But the drake answered saying: "Know then this, 0 Turin son
of Urin, that a fate of evil is woven about thee, and thou mayst not
untangle thy footsteps from it whitherever thou goest. Yea indeed,
I would not have thee slain, for thus wouldst thou escape very
bitter sorrows and a weird of anguish." Then Turin leaping
suddenly to his feet and avoiding that beast's baleful eye raised
aloft his sword and cried: "Nay, from this hour shall none name
me Turin if I live. Behold, I will name me a new name and it shall
be Turambar!" Now this meaneth Conqueror of Fate, and the
form of the name in the Gnome-speech is Turumart. Then uttering
these words he made a second time at the drake, thinking indeed to
force the drake to slay him and to conquer his fate by death, but
the dragon laughed, saying: "Thou fool! An I would, I had slain

thee long since and could do so here and now, and if I will not thou
canst not do battle with me waking, for my eye can cast once more
the binding spell upon thee that thou stand as stone. Nay, get thee
gone, 0 Turambar Conqueror of Fate! First thou must meet thy
doom an thou wouldst o'ercome it." But Turambar was filled with
shame and anger, and perchance he had slain himself, so great was
his madness, although thus might he not hope that ever his spirit
would be freed from the dark glooms of Mandos or stray into the
pleasant paths of Valinor;" but amidst his misery he bethought
him of Failivrin's pallid face and he bowed his head, for the
thought came into his heart to seek back through all the woods
after her sad footsteps even be it to Angamandi and the Hills of
Iron. Maybe in that desperate venture he had found a kindly and
swift death or perchance an ill one, and maybe he had rescued
Failivrin and found happiness, yet not thus was he fated to earn
the name he had taken anew, and the drake reading his mind
suffered him not thus lightly to escape his tide of ill.
"Hearken to me, 0 son of Urin," said he; "ever wast thou a
coward at heart, vaunting thyself falsely before men. Perchance
thou thinkest it a gallant deed to go follow after a maiden of strange
kin, recking little of thine own that suffer now terrible things?
Behold, Mavwin who loves thee long has eagerly awaited thy
return, knowing that thou hast found manhood a while ago, and
she looks for thy succour in vain, for little she knows that her son is
an outlaw stained with the blood of his comrades, a defiler of his
lord's table. Ill do men entreat her, and behold the Orcs infest now
those parts of Hithlum, and she is in fear and peril and her
daughter Nienori thy sister with her."
Then was Turambar aflame with sorrow and with shame for the
lies of that worm were barbed with truth, and for the spell of his
eyes he believed all that was said. Therefore his old desire to see
once more Mavwin his mother and to look upon Nienori whom he
had never seen since his first days" grew hot within him, and with
a heart torn with sorrow for the fate of Failivrin he turned his feet
towards the hills seeking Dor Lomin, and his sword was sheathed.
And truly is it said: "Forsake not for anything thy friends -- nor
believe those who counsel thee to do so" -- for of his abandoning of
Failivrin in danger that he himself could see came the very direst
evil upon him and all he loved; and indeed his heart was con-
founded and wavered, and he left those places in uttermost shame
and weariness. But the dragon gloated upon the hoard and lay
coiled upon it, and the fame of that great treasure of golden vessels

and of unwrought gold that lay by the caves above the stream fared
far and wide about; yet the great worm slept before it, and evil
thoughts he had as he pondered the planting of his cunning lies
and the sprouting thereof and their growth and fruit, and fumes of
smoke went up from his nostrils as he slept.
On a time therefore long afterward came Turambar with great
travail into Hisilome, and found at length the place of the abode of
his mother, even the one whence he had been sundered as a child,
but behold, it was roofless and the tilth about it ran wild. Then his
heart smote him, but he learned of some that dwelt nigh that
lighting on better days the Lady Mavwin had departed some years
agone to places not far distant where was a great and prosperous
dwelling of men, for that region of Hisilome was fertile and men
tilled the land somewhat and many had flocks and herds, though
for the most part in the dark days after the great battle men feared
to dwell in settled places and ranged the woods and hunted or
fished, and so it was with those kindreds about the waters of Asgon
whence after arose Tuor son of Peleg.
Hearing these words however Turambar was amazed, and
questioned them concerning the wandering into those regions of
Orcs and other fierce folk of Melko, but they shook their heads,
and said that never had such creatures come hither deep into the
land of Hisilome." "If thou wishest for Orcs then go to the hills
that encompass our land about," said they, "and thou wilt not
search long. Scarce may the wariest fare in and out so constant is
their watch, and they infest the rocky gates of the land that the
Children of Men be penned for ever in the Land of Shadows; but
men say 'tis the will of Melko that they trouble us not here -- and
yet it seems to us that thou hast come from afar, and at this we
marvel, for long is it since one from other lands might tread this
way." Then Turambar was in perplexity at this and he doubted
the deceit of the dragon's words, yet he went now in hope to the
dwelling of men and the house of his mother, and coming upon
homesteads of men he was easily directed thither. Now men
looked strangely at his questioning, and indeed they had reason,
yet were such as he spoke to in great awe and wonder at him and
shrank back from speech with him, for his garb was of the wild
woods and his hair was long and his face haggard and drawn as
with unquenchable sorrows, and therein burnt fiercely his dark
eyes beneath dark brows. A collar of fine gold he wore and his
mighty sword was at his side, and men marvelled much at him;


and did any dare to question him he named himself Turambar son
of the weary forest,* and that seemed but the more strange to
them.
Now came he to the dwelling of Mavwin, and behold it was a
fair house, but none dwelt there, and grass was high in the
gardens, and there were no kine in the byres nor horses in
the sheds, and the pastures about were silent and empty. Only the
swallows had dwelling beneath the timbers of the eaves and these
made a noise and a bustle as if departure for autumn was at hand,
and Turambar sat before the carven doors and wept. And one who
was passing on to other dwellings, for a track passed nigh to that
homestead, espied him, and coming asked him his grief, and
Turambar said that it was bitter for a son sundered for many years
from his home to give up all that was dear and dare the dangers of
the infested hills to find only the halls of his kindred empty when
he returned at last.
"Nay, then this is a very trick of Melko's," said the other, "for of
a truth here dwelt the Lady Mavwin wife of Urin, and yet is she
gone two years past very secretly and suddenly, and men say that
she seeks her son who is lost, and that her daughter Nienori goes
with her, but I know not the story. This however I know, and
many about here do likewise, and cry shame thereon, for know
that the guardianship of all her goods and land she gave to Brodda,
a man whom she trusted, and he is lord of these regions by men's
consent and has to wife a kinswoman of hers. But now she is long
away he has mingled her herds and flocks, small as they were, with
his mighty ones, branding them with his own marks, yet the
dwelling and stead of Mavwin he suffereth to fall to ruin, and men
think ill of it but move not, for the power of Brodda has grown to
be great."
Then Turambar begged him to set his feet upon the paths to
Brodda's halls, and the man did as he desired, so that Turambar
striding thither came upon them just as night fell and men sat to
meat in that house. Great was the company that night and the light
of many torches fell upon them, but the Lady Airin was not there,
for men drank overmuch at Brodda's feasts and their songs were
fierce and quarrels blazed about the hall, and those things she
loved not. Now Turambar smote upon the gates and his heart was
black and a great wrath was in him, for the words of the stranger
before his mother's doors were bitter to him.
A note on the manuscript referring to this name reads: 'Turumart-go-
Dhraethodauros
[emended to bo-Dhrauthodavros] or Turambar Rusitaurion.')



Then did some open to his knocking and Turambar' strode into
that hall, and Brodda bade him be seated and ordered wine and
meats to be set before him, but Turambar would neither eat nor
drink, so that men looking askance upon his sullenness asked him
who he might be. Then Turambar stepping out into the midst of
them before the high place where Brodda sat said: "Behold, '1
am Turambar son of the forest", and men laughed thereat, but
Turambar's eyes were full of wrath. Then said Brodda in doubt:
"What wilt thou of me, 0 son of the wild forest?" But Turambar
said: "Lord Brodda, I am come to repay thy stewardship of others'
goods," and silence fell in that place; but Brodda laughed, saying
again: "But who art thou?" And thereupon Turambar leapt upon
the high place and ere Brodda might foresee the act he drew
Gurtholfin and seizing Brodda by the locks all but smote his head
from off his body, crying aloud: "So dieth the rich man who
addeth the widow's little to his much. Lo, men die not all in the
wild woods, and am I not in truth the son of Urin, who having
sought back unto his folk findeth an empty hall despoiled." Then
was there a great uproar in that hall, and indeed though he was
burdened overmuch with his many griefs and wellnigh distraught,
yet was this deed of Turambar violent and unlawful. Some were
there nonetheless that would not unsheathe their weapons, saying
that Brodda was a thief and died as one, but many there were that
leapt with swords against Turambar and he was hard put to it, and
one man he slew, and it was Orlin. Then came Airin of the long
hair in great fear into the halls and at her voice men stayed their
hands; but great was her horror when she saw the deeds that were
done, and Turambar turned his face away and might not look
upon her, for his wrath was grown cold and he was sick and weary.
But she hearing the tale said: "Nay, grieve not for me, son
of Urin, but for thyself; for my lord was a hard lord and cruel
and unjust, and men might say somewhat in thy defence, yet
behold thou hast slain him now at his board being his guest, and
Orlin thou hast slain who is of thy mother's kin; and what shall be
thy doom?" At those words some were silent and many shouted
"death", but Airin said that it was not wholly in accord with the
laws of that place, "for," said she, "Brodda was slain wrongfully,
yet just was the wrath of the slayer, and Orlin too did he slay in
defence, though it were in the hall of a feast. Yet now I fear that
this man must get him swiftly from among us nor ever set foot
upon these lands again, else shall any man slay him; but those
lands and goods that were Urin's shall Brodda's kin hold, save only



do Mavwin and Nienori return ever from their wandering, yet
even so may Turin son of Urin inherit nor part nor parcel of them
ever." Now this doom seemed just to all save Turambar, and they
marvelled at the equity of Airin whose lord lay slain, and they
guessed not at the horror of her life aforetime with that man; but
Turambar cast his sword upon the floor and bade them slay him,
yet they would not for the words of Airin whom they loved, and
Airin suffered it not for the love of Mavwin, hoping yet to join
those twain mother and son in happiness, and her doom she had
made to satisfy men's anger and save Turin from death. "Nay,"
said she, "three days do I give thee to get thee out of the land,
wherefore go!" and Turambar lifting his sword wiped it, saying:
"Would I were clean of his blood," and he went forth into the
night. In the folly of his heart now did he deem himself cut off in
truth for ever from Mavwin his mother, thinking that never again
would any he loved be fain to look upon him. Then did he thirst
for news of his mother and sister and of none might he ask, but
wandered back over the hills knowing only that they sought him
still perchance in the forests of the Lands Beyond, and no more
did he know for a long while.
Of his wanderings thereafter has no tale told, save that after
much roaming his sorrow grew dulled and his heart dead, until at
last in places very far away many a journey beyond the river of the
Rodothlim he fell in with some huntsmen of the woods, and these
were Men. Some of that company were thanes of Urin, or sons of
them, and they had wandered darkly ever since that Battle of
Tears, but now did Turambar join their number, and built his life
anew so well as he might. Now that people had houses in a more
smiling region of the woods in lands that were not utterly far from
Sirion or the grassy hills of that river's middle course, and
they were hardy men and bowed not to Melko, and Turambar got
honour among them.
Now is it to tell that far other had matters fallen out with
Mavwin than the Foaloke had said to Turin, for her days turning
to better she had peace and honour among the men of those
regions. Nonetheless her grief at the loss of her son by reason of
the cutting off of all messengers deepened only with the years,
albeit Nienori grew to a most fair and slender maid. At the time of
Turin's flight from the halls of Tinwelint she was already twelve"
years old and tall and beautiful.
Now the tale tells not the number of days that Turambar

sojourned with the Rodothlim but these were very many, and
during that time Nienori grew to the threshold of womanhood,
and often was there speech between her and her mother of Turin
that was lost. In the halls of Tinwelint too the memory of
Turin lived still, and there still abode Gumlin, now decrepit in
years, who aforetime had been the guardian of Turin's childhood
upon that first journey to the Lands Beyond. Now was Gumlin
white-haired and the years were heavy on him, but he longed
sorely for a sight once more of the folk of Men and of the Lady
Mavwin his mistress. On a time then Gumlin learnt of the with-
drawal from the hills of the greater number of those Orc-bands
and other fierce beings of Melko's that had for so long made them
impassable to Elves and Men. Now for a space were the hills and
the paths that led over them far and wide free of his evil, for Melko
had at that time a great and terrible project afoot, and that was the
destruction of the Rodothlim and of many dwellings of the Gnomes
beside, that his spies had revealed," yet all the folk of those regions
breathed the freer for a while, though had they known all perchance
they had not done so.
Then Gumlin the aged fell to his knees before Tinwelint and
begged that he suffer him to depart homeward, that he might see
his mistress of old ere death took him to the halls of- Mandos -- if
indeed that lady had not fared thither before him. Then the king"
said yea, and for his journey he gave him two guides for the
succouring of his age; yet those three, Gumlin and the woodland
Elves, made a very hard journey, for it was late winter, and yet
would Gumlin by no means abide until spring should come.
Now as they drew nigh to that region of Hisilome where afore-
time Mavwin had dwelt and nigh where she dwelt yet a great snow
fell, as happened oft in those parts on days that should rather have
been ones of early spring. Therein was Gumlin whelmed, and his
guides seeking aid came unawares upon Mavwin's house, and
calling for aid of her were granted it. Then by the aid of the folk of
Mavwin was Gumlin found and carried to the house and warmed
back to life, and coming to himself at length he knew Mavwin and
was very joyful.
Now when he was in part healed he told his tale to Mavwin, and
as he recounted the years and the doughtiest of the feats of Turin
she was glad, but great was her sorrow and dismay at the tidings of
his sundering from Linwe" and the manner of it, and going from
Gumlin she wept bitterly. Indeed for long and since ever she knew
that Turin, an he lived, had grown to manhood she had wondered

that he sought not back to her, and often dread had filled her heart
lest attempting this he had perished in the hills; but now the truth
was bitter to bear and she was desolate for a great while, nor might
Nienori comfort her.
Now by reason of the unkindness of the weather those guides
that had brought Gumlin out of Tinwelint's realms abode as her
guests until spring came, but with spring's first coming Gumlin
died.
Then arose Mavwin and going to several of the chiefs of those
places she besought their aid, telling them the tale of Turin's fate
as Gumlin had told it to her. But some laughed, saying she was
deceived by the babblings of a dying man, and the most said that
she was distraught with grief, and that it would be a fool's counsel
to seek beyond the hills a man who had been lost for years agone:
"nor," said they, "will we lend man or horse to such a quest, for all
our love for thee, 0 Mavwin wife of Urin."
Then Mavwin departed in tears but railed not at them, for she
had scant hope in her plea and knew that wisdom was in their
words. Nonetheless being unable to rest she came now to those
 guides of the Elves, who chafed already to be away beneath the
sun; and she said to them: "Lead me now to your lord," and they
would dissuade her, saying that the road was no road for a woman's
feet to tread; yet she did not heed them. Rather did she beg of her
friend whose name was Airin Faiglindra* (long-tressed) and was
wed to Brodda a lord of that region, and rich and powerful, that
Nienori might be taken under the guardianship of her husband
and all her goods thereto. This did Airin obtain of Brodda without
great pleading, and when she knew this she would take farewell
of her daughter; but her plan availed little, for Nienori stood
 before her mother and said: "Either thou goest not, 0 Mavwin my
mother, or go we both," nor would anything turn her from those
words. Therefore in the end did both mother and daughter make
them ready for that sore journey, and the guides murmured much
thereat. Yet it so happened that the season which followed that
bitter winter was very kindly, and despite the forebodings of the
guides the four passed the hills and made their long journey with
no greater evils than hunger and thirst.
Coming therefore at length before Tinwelint Mavwin cast her-
self down and wept, begging pardon for Turin and compassion
and aid for herself and Nienori; but Tinwelint bade her arise and
(* In the margin is written Firilanda.)

seat herself beside Gwedheling his queen, saying: "Long years
ago was Turin thy son forgiven, aye, even as he left these halls,
and many a weary search have we made for him. No outlawry of
mine was it that took him from this realm, but remorse and
bitterness drew him to the wilds, and there, methinks, evil things
o'ertook him, or an he lives yet I fear me it is in bondage to the
Orcs." Then Mavwin wept again and implored the king to give her
aid, for she said: "Yea verily I would fare until the flesh of my feet
were worn away, if haply at the journey's end I might see the face
of Turin son of Urin my well-beloved." But the king said that he
knew not whither she might seek her son save in Angamandi, and
thither he might not send any of his lieges, not though his heart
were full of ruth for the sorrow of Urin's folk. Indeed Tinwelint
spoke but as he believed just, nor meant he to add to Mavwin's
sorrow save only to restrain her from so mad and deadly a quest,
but Mavwin hearing him spake no word more, and going from him
went out into the woods and suffered no one to stay her, and only
Nienori followed her whithersoever she went.
Now the folk of Tinwelint looked with pity on those twain and
with kindness, and secretly they watched them, and unbeknown
kept much harm from them, so that the wandering ladies of the
woods became familiar among them and dear to many, yet were
they a sight of ruth, and folk swore hatred to Melko and his works
who saw them pass. Thus came it that after many moons Mavwin
fell in with a band of wandering Gnomes, and entering into
discourse with them the tale was told to her of the Rodothlim,
such as those Gnomes knew of it, and of the dwelling of Turin
among them. Of the whelming of that abode of folk by the hosts of
Melko and by the dragon Glorund they told too, for those deeds
were then new and their fame went far and wide. Now Turin they
named not by name, calling him Mormakil, a wild man who fled
from the face of Tinwelint and escaped thereafter from the hands
of the Orcs.
Then was the heart of Mavwin filled with hope and she ques-
tioned them more, but the Noldoli said that they had not heard
that any came alive out of that ransacking save such as were haled
to Angamandi, and then again was Mavwin's hope dashed low.
Yet did she nonetheless get her back to the king's halls, and telling
her tale besought his aid against the Foaloke. Now it was Mavwin's
thought that perchance Turin dwelt yet in the thraldom of the
dragon and it might fall to them in some manner to liberate him,
or again should the prowess of the king's men suffice then might


they slay the worm in vengeance for his evils, and so at his death
might he speak words of knowledge concerning the fate of Turin,
were he indeed no longer nigh the caverns of the Rodothlim. Of
the mighty hoard that that worm guarded Mavwin recked little,
but she spake much of it to Tinwelint, even as the Noldoli had
spoken of it to her. Now the folk of Tinwelint were of the wood-
lands and had scant wealth, yet did they love fair and beauteous
things, gold and silver and gems, as do all the Eldar but the
Noldoli most of all; nor was the king of other mind in this, and his
riches were small, save it be for that glorious Silmaril that many a
king had given all his treasury contained if he might possess it.
Therefore did Tinwelint answer: "Now shalt thou have aid, 0
Mavwin most steadfast, and, openly I say it to thee, it is not for
hope of freeing Turin thereby that I grant it to thee, for such hope
I do not see in this tale, but rather the death of hope. Yet it is a
truth that I have need and desire of treasury, and it may be that
such shall come to me by this venture; yet half of the spoil shalt
thou have 0 Mavwin for the memory of Urin and Turin, or else
shalt thou ward it for Nienori thy daughter." Then said Mavwin:
"Nay, give me but a woodman's cot and my son," and the king
answered: "That I cannot, for I am but a king of the wild Elves,
and no Vala of the western isles."
Then Tinwelint gathered a picked band of his warriors and
hunters and told them his bidding, and it seemed that the name of
the Foaloke was known already among them, and there were many
who could guide the band unto the regions of his dwelling, yet was
that name a terror to the stoutest and the places of his abode a land
of accursed dread. Now the ancient dwellings of the Rodothlim
were not utterly distant from the realm of Tinwelint, albeit far
enough, but the king said to Mavwin: "Bide now and Nienori also
with me, and my men shall fare against the drake, and all that they
do and find in those places will they faithfully report," -- and his
men said: "Yea, we will do thy bidding, 0 King," but fear stood in
their eyes.
Then Mavwin seeing it said: "Yea, 0 King, let Nienori my
daughter bide indeed at the feet of Gwedheling the Queen, but I
who care not an I die or live will go look upon the dragon and find
my son"; and Tinwelint laughed, yet Gwedheling and Nienori
fearing that she spake no jest pled earnestly with her. But she was
as adamant, fearing lest this her last hope of rescuing Turin come
to nought through the terror of Tinwelint's men, and none might
move her. "Of love, I know," said she, "come all -the words ye

speak, yet give me rather a horse to ride and if ye will a sharp knife
for my own death at need, and let me be gone." Now these words
struck amazement into those Elves that heard, for indeed the
wives and daughters of Men in those days were hardy and their
youth lasted a great span, yet did this seem a madness to all.
Madder yet did it seem when Nienori, seeing the obstinacy of
her mother, said before them all: "Then I too will go; whither my
mother Mavwin goeth thither more easily yet shall I, Nienori
daughter of Urin, fare"; but Gwedheling said to the king that he
allow it not, for she was a fay and perchance foresaw dimly what
might be.
Then had Mavwin ended the dispute and departed from the
king's presence into the woods, had not Nienori caught at her robe
and stayed her, and so did all plead with Mavwin, till at length it
was agreed that the king send a strong party against the Foaloke
and that Nienori and Mavwin ride with them until the regions of
the beast be found. Then should they seek a high place whence
they might see something of the deeds yet in safety and secrecy,
while the warriors crept upon the worm to slay it. Now of this high
place a woodsman told, and often had he gazed therefrom upon
the dwelling of the worm afar. At length was that band of dragon-
slayers got ready, and they were mounted upon goodly horses
swift and sure-going, albeit few of those beasts were possessed by
the folk of the woods. Horses too were found for Nienori and for
Mavwin, and they rode at the head of the warriors, and folk
marvelled much to see their bearing, for the men of Urin and those
amongst whom Nienori was nurtured were much upon horses,
and both knave and maid among them rode even in tender years.
After many days' going came now that cavalcade within view of
a place that once had been a fair region, and through it a swift river
ran over a rocky bed, and of one side was the brink of it high and
tree-grown and of the other the land was more level and fertile and
broad-swelling, but beyond the high bank of the river the hills
drew close. Thither as they looked they saw that the land had
become all barren and was blasted for a great distance about the
ancient caverns of the Rodothlim, and the trees were crushed to
the earth or snapped. Toward the hills a black heath stretched and
the lands were scored with the great slots that that loathly worm
made in his creeping.
Many are the dragons that Melko has loosed upon the world and
some are more mighty than others. Now the least mighty -- yet
were they very great beside the Men of those days -- are cold as is

the nature of snakes and serpents, and of them a many having
wings go with the uttermost noise and speed; but the mightier are
hot and very heavy and slow-going, and some belch flame, and fire
flickereth beneath their scales, and the lust and greed and cunning
evil of these is the greatest of all creatures: and such was the
Foaloke whose burning there set all the places of his habitation in
waste and desolation. Already greater far had this worm waxen
than in the days of the onslaught upon the Rodothlim, and greater
too was his hoarded treasure, for Men and Elves and even Orcs he
slew, or enthralled that they served him, bringing him food to
slake his lust [? on] precious things, and spoils of their harryings to
swell his hoard.
Now was that band aghast as they looked upon that region from
afar, yet they prepared them for battle, and drawing lots sent one
of their number with Nienori and Mavwin to that high place"
upon the confines of the withered land that had been named, and it
was covered with trees, and might be reached by hidden paths.
Even as those three rode thither and the warriors crept stealthily
toward the caves, leaving their horses that were already in a sweat
of fear, behold the Foaloke came from his lair, and sliding down
the bank lay across the stream, as often was his wont. Straightway
great fog and steams leapt up and a stench was mingled therein, so
that that band was whelmed in vapours and well-nigh stifled, and
they crying to one another in the mist displayed their presence to
the worm; and he laughed aloud. At that most awful of all sounds
of beasts they fled wildly in the mists, and yet they could not
discover their horses, for these in an extremity of terror broke
loose and fled.
Then Nienori hearing far cries and seeing the great mist roll
toward them from the river turned back with her mother to the
place of sundering, and there alighting waited in great doubt.
Suddenly came that blind mist upon them as they stood, and with
it came flying madly the dim horses of the huntsmen. Then their
own catching their terror trampled to death that Elf who was their
escort as he caught at the flying bridles, and wild with fear they
sped to the dark woods and never more bore Man or Elf upon their
saddles; but Mavwin and Nienori were left alone and succourless
upon the borders of the places of fear. Very perilous indeed was
their estate, and long they groped in the mist and knew not where
they were nor saw they ever any of the band again, and only pale

voices seemed to pass them by afar crying out as in dread, and then
all was silent. Now did they cling together and being weary

stumbled on heedless whither their steps might go, till on a
sudden the sun gleamed thin above them, and hope returned to
them; and behold the mists lifted and the airs became clearer and
they stood not far from the river. Even now it smoked as it were
hot, and behold the Foaloke lay there and his eyes were upon
them.
No word did he speak nor did he move, but his baleful eye held
their gaze until the strength seemed to leave their knees and their
minds grew dim. Then did Nienori drag herself by a might of will
from that influence for a while, and "Behold," she cried, "0
serpent of Melko, what wilt thou with us -- be swift to say or do, for
know that we seek not thee nor thy gold but one Turin who dwelt
here upon a time." Then said the drake, and the earth quaked at
him: "Thou liest -- glad had ye been at my death, and glad thy
band of cravens who now flee gibbering in the woods might they
have despoiled me. Fools and liars, liars and cravens, how shall ye
slay or despoil Glorund the Foaloke, who ere his power had waxen
slew the hosts of the Rodothlim and Orodreth their lord, devouring
all his folk.".
"Yet perchance," said Nienori, "one Turin got him from that
fray and dwells still here beneath thy bonds, an he has not
escaped thee and is now far hence," and this she said at a venture,
hoping against hope, but said the evil one: "Lo! the names of all
who dwelt here before the taking of the caves of my wisdom I
know, and I say to thee that none who named himself Turin went
hence alive." And even so was Turin's boast subtly turned against
him, for these beasts love ever to speak thus, doubly playing with
cunning words.
"Then was Turin slain in this evil place," said Mavwin, but the
dragon answered: "Here did the name of Turin fade for ever from
the earth -- but weep not, woman, for it was the name of a craven
that betrayed his friends." "Foul beast, cease thy evil sayings,"
said Mavwin; "slayer of my son, revile not the dead, lest thine
own bane come upon thee." "Less proud must be thy words, O
Mavwin, an thou wilt escape torment or thy daughter with thee,"
did that drake answer, but Mavwin cried: "0 most accursed, lo! I
fear thee not. Take me an thou wilt to thy torments and thy
bondage, for of a truth I desired thy death, but suffer only Nienori
my daughter to go back to the dwellings of Men: for she came
hither constrained by me, and knowing not the purposes of our
journey."
"Seek not to cajole me, woman," sneered that evil one. "Liever



would I keep thy daughter and slay thee or send thee back to thy
hovels, but I have need of neither of you." With those words he
opened full his evil eyes, arid a light shone in them, and Mavwin
and Nienori quaked beneath them and a swoon came upon their
minds, and them seemed that they groped in endless tunnels of
darkness, and there they found not one another ever again, and
calling only vain echoes answered and there was no glimmer of
light.
When however after a time that she remembered not the black-
ness left the mind of Nienori, behold the river and the withered
places of the Foaloke were no more about her, but the deep
woodlands, and it was dusk. Now she seemed to herself to awake
from dreams of horror nor could she recall them, but their dread
hung dark behind her mind, and her memory of all past things was
dimmed. So for a long while she strayed lost in the woods, and
haply the spell alone kept life in her, for she hungered bitterly and
was athirst, and by fortune it was summer, for her garments
became torn and her feet unshod and weary, and often she wept,
and she went she knew not whither.
Now on a time in an opening in the wood she descried a
campment as it were of Men, and creeping nigh by reason of
hunger to espy it she saw that they were creatures of a squat and
unlovely stature that dwelt there, and most evil faces had they,
and their voices and their laughter was as the clash of stone and
metal. Armed they were with curved swords and bows of horn,
and she was possessed with fear as she looked upon them, although
she knew not that they were Orcs, for never had she seen those evil
ones before. Now did she turn and flee, but was espied, and one let
fly a shaft at her that quivered suddenly in a tree beside her as she
ran, and others seeing that it was a woman young and fair gave
chase whooping and calling hideously. Now Nienori ran as best
she might for the density of the wood, but soon was she spent and
capture and dread thraldom was very near, when one came crashing
through the woods as though in answer to her lamentable cries.
Wild and black was his hair yet streaked with grey, and his face
was pale and marked as with deep sorrows of the past, and in his
hand he bare a great sword whereof all but the very edge was
black. Therewith he leapt against the following Orcs and hewed
them, and they soon fled, being taken aback, and though some
shot arrows at random amidst the trees they did little scathe, and
five of them were slain.
Then sat Nienori upon a stone and for weariness and the

lessened strain of fear sobs shook her and she could not speak; but
her rescuer stood beside her awhile and marvelled at her fairness
and that she wandered thus lonely in the woods, and at length he
said: "0 sweet maiden of the woods, whence comest thou, and
what may be thy name?"
"Nay, these things I know not," said she. "Yet methinks I stray
very far from my home and folk, and many very evil things have
fallen upon me in the way, whereof nought but a cloud hangs upon
my memory -- nay, whence I am or whither I go I know not" -- and
she wept a fresh, but that man spake, saying:" Then behold, I will
call thee Niniel, or little one of tears," and thereat she raised her
face towards his, and it was very sweet though marred with
weeping, and she said with a look of wonderment:" Nay, not
Niniel, not Niniel." Yet more might she not remember, and her
face filled with distress, so that she cried: "Nay, who art thou,
warrior of the woods; why troublest thou me?" "Turambar am I
called," said he, "and no home nor kindred have I nor any past to
think on, but I wander for ever," and again at that name that
maiden's wonder stirred.
"Now," said Turambar, "dry thy tears, 0 Niniel, for thou hast
come upon such safety as these words afford. Lo, one am I now of
a small folk of the forest, and a sweet dwelling in a clearing have
we far from hence, but today as thy fortune would we fared
a-hunting, -- aye, and Orc-harrying too, for we are hard put to it to
fend those evil ones from our homes."
Then did Niniel ( for thus Turambar called her ever, and she
learnt to call it her name) fare away with him to his comrades, and
they asking little got them upon horses, and Turambar set Niniel
before him, and thus they fared as swift as they might from the
danger of the Orcs.
Now at the time of the affray of Turambar with the pursuing
Orcs was half the day already spent, yet were they already leagues
upon their way ere they dismounted once more, and it was then
early night. Already at the sunset had it seemed to Niniel that the
woods were lighter and less gloomy and the air less evil-laden than
behind. Now did they make a camp in a glade and the stars shone
clear above where the tree-roof was thin, but Niniel lay a little apart
and they gave her many fells to keep her from the night chills, and
thus she slept more softly than for many a night and the breezes
kissed her face, but Turambar told his comrades of the meeting in
the wood and they wondered who she might be or how she came
wandering thither as one under a spell of blind forgetfulness.

Next day again they pressed on and so for many journeys more
beside until at length weary and fain for rest they came one noon to
a woodland stream, and this they followed for some way until,
behold, they came to a place where it might be forded by reason of
its shallowness and of the rocks that stood up in its course; but on
their right it dived in a great fall and fell into a chasm, and
Turambar pointing said: <Now are we nigh to home, for this is the
fall of the Silver Bowl," but Niniel not knowing why was filled
with a dread and could not look upon the loveliness of that
foaming water. Now soon came they to places of thinner trees and
to a slope whereon but few grew save here and there an ancient oak
of great girth, and the grass about their feet was soft, for the
 clearing had been made many years and was very wide. There
stood also a cluster of goodly houses of timber, and a tilth was
about them and trees of fruit. To one of these houses that was
adorned with strange rude carvings, and flowers bloomed bright
 about it, did Turambar lead now Niniel. "Behold," said he, "my
abode -- there an thou listest thou shalt abide for now, but methinks
it is a lonely hall, and there be houses of this folk beside where
 there are maidens and womenfolk, and there wouldst thou liever
and better be." So came it afterward that Nienori dwelt with the
wood-rangers," and after a while entered the house of Bethos,
a stout man who had fought though then but a boy in the
Battle of Unnumbered Tears. Thence did he escape, but his
wife was a Noldo-maiden, as the tale telleth, and very fair, and
fair also were his sons and daughters save only his eldest son
' Tamar Lamefoot.
Now as the days passed Turambar grew to love Niniel very
greatly indeed, and all the folk beside loved her for her great
 loveliness and sweetness, yet was she ever half-sorrowful and
often distraught of mind, as one that seeks for something mislaid
that soon she must discover, so that folk said: "Would that the
Valar would lift the spell that lies upon Niniel." Nonetheless for
the most part she was happy indeed among the folk and in the
house of Bethos, and each day she grew ever fairer, and Tamar
Lamefoot who was held of little account loved her though in vain.
Now came days when life once more seemed to contain joy to
 Turambar, and the bitterness of the past grew dim and far away,
and a fresh love was in his heart. Then did he think to put his fate
 (* In the margin, apparently with reference to the word 'wood-rangers', is
written
Vettar.)

for ever from him and live out his life there in the woodland homes
with children about him, and looking upon Niniel he desired to
wed her. Then did he often press his suit with her, yet though he
was a man of valiance and renown she delayed him, saying nor yea
nor no, yet herself she knew not why, for it seemed to her heart
that she loved him deeply, fearing for him were he away, and
knowing happiness when he was nigh.
Now it was a custom of that folk to obey a chief, and he was
chosen by them from their stoutest men, and that office did he
hold until of his own will he laid it down again being sick or gone in
years, or were he slain. And at that time Bethos was their chief;
but he was slain by evil luck in a foray not long after -- for despite
his years he still rode abroad -- and it fell out that a new captain
must be chosen. In the end then did they name Turambar, for his
lineage, in that it was known among them that he was son of Urin,
was held in esteem among those stout rebels against Melko,
whereas" he had beside become a very mighty man in all deeds and
one of wisdom great beyond his years, by reason of his far wander-
ings and his dealings with the Elves.
Seeing therefore the love of their new chief for Niniel and
thinking they knew that she loved him also in return, those men
began to say how they would lief see their lord wed, and that it was
folly to delay for no good cause; but this word came to the ears of
Niniel, and at length she consented to be the wife of Turambar,
and all were fain thereat. A goodly feast was made and there was
song and mirth, and Niniel became lady of the woodland-rangers
and dwelt thereafter in Turambar's house. There great was their
happiness, though there lay at times a chill foreboding upon
Niniel's heart, but Turambar was in joy and said in his heart:
"'Twas well that I did name myself Turambar, for lo! I have
overcome the doom of evil that was woven about my feet." The
past he laid aside and to Niniel he spoke not overmuch of bygone
things, save of his father and mother and the sister he had not
seen, but always was Niniel troubled at such talk and he knew not
why." But of his flight from the halls of Tinwelint and the death of
Beleg and of his seeking back to Hisilome he said never a word,
and the thought of Failivrin lay locked in his deepest heart well-
nigh forgotten.
Naught ever might Niniel tell him of her days before, and did he
ask her distress was written on her face as though he troubled the
surface of dark dreams, and he grieved at times thereat, but it
weighed not much upon him.



Now fare the days by and Niniel and Turambar dwell in peace,
but Tamar Lamefoot wanders the woods thinking the world an ill
and bitter place, and he loved Niniel very greatly nor might he
stifle his love. But behold, in those days the Foaloke waxed fat,
and having many bands of Noldoli and of Orcs subject to him he
thought to extend his dominion far and wide. Indeed in many
places in those days these beasts of Melko's did in like manner,
setting up kingdoms of terror of their own that flourished beneath
 the evil mantle of Melko's lordship. So it was that the bands of
Glorund the drake harried the folk of Tinwelint very grievously,
and at length there came some nigh even to those woods and glades
that were beloved of Turambar and his folk.
Now those woodmen fled not but dealt stoutly with their foes,
 and the wrath of Glorund the worm was very great when tidings
 were brought to him of a brave folk of Men that dwelt far beyond
 the river and that his marauders might not subdue them. It is told
 indeed that despite the cunning of his evil designs he did not yet
know where was the dwelling of Turambar or of Nienori; and of
truth in those days it seemed that fortune smiled on Turambar
awhile, for his people waxed and they became prosperous, and
 many escaped even from uttermost Hisilome and came unto him,
and store of wealth and good things he gathered, for all his
battles brought him victory and booty. Like a king and queen did
Turambar and Niniel become, and there was song and mirth in
 those glades of their dwelling, and much happiness in their halls.
And Niniel conceived."
Much of this did spies report to the Foaloke, and his wrath was
terrible. Moreover his greed was mightily kindled, so that after
pondering much he set a guard that he might trust to watch his
dwelling and his treasury, and the captain of these was Mim the
dwarf." Then leaving the caves and the places of his sleep he
 crossed the streams and drew into the woods, and they blazed
before his face. Tidings of this came swiftly to Turambar, but he
feared not as yet nor indeed heeded the tale much, for it was a very
great way from the home of the woodmen to the caverns of the
worm. But now sank Niniel's heart, and though she knew not
wherefore a weight of dread and sorrow lay upon her, and seldom
 after the coming of that word did she smile, so that Turambar
', wondered and was sad.
Now draweth the Foaloke during that time through the deep
woods and a path of desolation lies behind, and yet in his creeping
a very great while passes, until, behold, suddenly a party of the

woodmen come upon him unawares sleeping in the woods among
the broken trees. Of these several were overcome by the noxious
breath of the beast and after were slain; but two making their
utmost speed brought tidings to their lord that the tale aforetime
had not been vain, and indeed now was the drake crept even
within the confines of his realm; and so saying they fell fainting
before his feet.
Now the place where the dragon lay was low-lying and a little
hill there was, not far distant, islanded among the trees but itself
not much wooded, whence might be espied albeit afar off much of
that region now torn by the passage of the drake. A stream there
was too that ran through the forest in that part between the drake
and the dwellings of the woodmen, but its course ran very nigh to
the dragon and it was a narrow stream with banks deep-cloven and
o'erhung with trees. Wherefore Turambar purposed now to take
his stoutest men to that knoll and watch if they could the dragon's
movements in secret, that perchance they might fall upon him at
some disadvantage and contrive to slay him, for in this lay their
best hope. This band he suffered not to be very great, and the rest
at his bidding took arms and scoured about, fearing that hosts of
the Orcs were come with the worm their lord. This indeed was not
so, and he came alone trusting in his overwhelming power.
Now when Turambar made ready to depart then Niniel begged
to ride beside him and he consented, for he loved her and it was his
thought that if he fell and the drake lived then might none of that
people be saved, and he would liever have Niniel by him, hoping
perchance to snatch her at the least from the clutches of the worm,
by death at his own or one of his liege's hands.
So rode forth together Turambar and Niniel, as that folk knew
them, and behind were a score of good men. Now the distance to
that knoll among the woods they- compassed in a day's journey,
and after them though it were against the bidding and counsel of
Turambar there stole a great concourse of his folk, even women
and children. The lure of a strange dread held them, and some
thought to see a great fight, and others went with the rest thinking
little, nor did any think to see what in the end their eyes saw; and
they followed not far behind, for Turambar's party went slowly
and warily. When first then Turambar suffered her to ride beside
him Niniel was blither than for long she had been, and she
brightened the foreboding of those men's hearts; but soon they
came to a place not far from the foot of the knoll, and there her
heart sank, and indeed a gloom fell upon all.


Yet very fair was that place, for here flowed that same stream
that further down wound past the dragon's lair in a deep bed
cloven deep into the earth; and it came rushing cold from the hills
beyond the woodmen's homes, and it fell over a great fall where
the water-worn rock jutted smooth and grey from amid the grass.
Now this was the head of that force which the woodmen named
the Silver Bowl, and aforetime Turambar and Niniel had passed it
by, faring home first from the rescuing of Niniel. The height of
that fall was very great and the waters had a loud and musical
voice, splashing into a silver foam far below where they had worn a
great hollow in the rocks; and this hollow was o'ershadowed by
trees and bushes, but the sun gleamed through upon the spray;
 and about the head of the fall there was an open glade and a green
 sward where grew a wealth of flowers, and men loved that spot.
Here did Niniel of a sudden weep, and casting herself upon
Turambar begged him tempt not fate but rather fly with her and
all his folk, leading them into distant lands. But looking at her he
said: "Nay, Niniel mine, nor thou nor I die this day, nor yet
 tomorrow, by the evil of the dragon or by the foemen's swords,"
but he knew not the fulfilment of his words; and hearing them
Niniel quelled her weeping and was very still. Having therefore
 rested a while here those warriors afterward climbed the hill and
Niniel fared with them. Afar off they might see from its summit a
wide tract where all the trees were broken and the lands were
hurt and scorched and the earth black, yet nigh the edge of the
trees that were still unharmed, and that was not far from the lip of
the deep river-chasm, there arose a thin smoke of great blackness,
and men said: "There lieth the worm."
Then were counsels of many a kind spoken upon that hill-top,
 and men feared to go openly against the dragon by day or by night
or whether he waked or slept, and seeing their dread Turambar
 gave them a rede, and it was taken, and these were his words: "Well
 have ye said, 0 huntsmen of the woods, that not by day or by night
shall men hope to take a dragon of Melko unawares, and behold
this one hath made a waste about him, and the earth is beaten flat
so that none may creep near and be hidden. Wherefore whoso hath
 the heart shall come with me and we will go down the rocks to the
 foot of the fall, and so gaining the path of the stream perchance we
may come as nigh to the drake as may be. Then must we climb if
we are able up under the near bank and so wait, for methinks the
Foaloke will rest not much longer ere he draweth on towards our
dwellings. Thus must he either cross this deep stream or turn far

out of his ways, for he is grown too mighty to creep along its bed.
Now I think not that he will turn aside, for it is but a ditch, a
narrow rut filled with trickling water, to the great Foaloke of the
golden caves. If however he belie my counsel and come not on by
this path, some few of you must take courage in your hearts,
striving to decoy him warily back across the stream, that there we
who lie hid may give him his bane stabbing from beneath, for the
armour of these vile worms is of little worth upon their bellies."
Now of that band were there but six that stood forward readily
to go with Turambar, and he seeing that said that he had thought
there were more than six brave men among his folk, yet after that
he would not suffer any of the others to go with him, saying that
better were the six without the hindrance of the fearful. Then did
Turambar take farewell of Niniel and they kissed upon the hilltop,
and it was then late afternoon, but Niniel's heart went as to stone
with grief; and all that company descended to the head of Silver
Bowl, and there she beheld her lord climb to the fall's bottom with
his six companions. Now when he was vanished far below she
spake bitterly to those who had dared not to go, and they for shame
answered not but crept back unto the hill-top and gazed out
towards the dragon's lair, and Niniel sat beside the water looking
before her, and she wept not but was in anguish.
None stayed beside her save Tamar alone who had fared un-
bidden with that company, and he had loved her since first she
dwelt in Bethos' halls, and once had thought to win her ere
Turambar took her. The lameness of Tamar was with him from
childhood, yet was he both wise and kindly, though held of little
account among those folk, to whom strength was safety and valour
the greatest pride of men. Now however did Tamar bear a sword,
and many had scoffed at him for that, yet he took joy at the chance
of guarding Niniel, albeit she noticed him not.
Now is it to tell that Turambar reached the place of his design
after great labour in the rocky bed of the stream, and with his men
clambered with difficulty up the steep side of that ravine. Just
below the lip of it they were lodged in certain overhanging trees,
and not far off they might hear the great breathing of the beast,
and some of his companions fell in dread.
Already had darkness come and all the night they clung there,
and there was a strange flickering where the dragon lay and dread
noises and a quaking if he stirred, and when dawn came Turambar
saw that he had but three companions, and he cursed the others
for their cravenhood, nor doth any tale tell whither those un-


faithful ones fled. On this day did all come to pass as Turambar
had thought, for the drake bestirring himself drew slowly to the
chasm's edge and turned not aside, -but sought to overcreep it and
come thus at the homes of the woodmen. Now the terror of his
oncoming was very great, for the earth shook, and those three
feared lest the trees that upheld them should loosen their roots and
fall into the rocky stream below. The leaves too of those trees that
grew nigh were shrivelled in the serpent's breath, yet were they
not hurt because of the shelter of the bank.
At length did the drake reach the stream-edge and the sight of
his evil head and dripping jaws was utterly hideous, and these they
saw clearly and were in terror lest he too espy them, for he crossed
not over at the spot where Turambar had chosen to lie hid because
of the narrowness here of the chasm and its lesser depth. Rather he
began to heave himself now across the ravine a little below them,
and so slipping from their places Turambar and his men reached
as swiftly as might be the stream's bed and came beneath the belly
of the worm. Here was the heat so great and so vile the stench that
his men were taken with a sore dread and durst not climb the bank
again. Then in his wrath Turambar would have turned his sword
against them, but they fled, and so was it that alone he scaled the
 wall until he came close beneath the dragon's body, and he reeled
by reason of the heat and of the stench and clung to a stout bush.
Then abiding until a very vital and unfended spot was within
stroke, he heaved up Gurtholfin his black sword and stabbed with
 all his strength above his head, and that magic blade of the
Rodothlim went into the vitals of the dragon even to the hilt, and
 the yell of his death-pain rent the woods and all that heard it were
aghast.
Then did that drake writhe horribly and the huge spires of his
 contortions were terrible to see, and all the trees he brake that
stood nigh to the place of his agony. Almost had he crossed the
chasm when Gurtholfin pierced him, and now he cast himself
 upon its farther bank and laid all waste about him, and lashed and
coiled and made a yelling and a bellowing such that the stoutest
blenched and turned to flee. Now those afar thought that this was
the fearsome noise of battle betwixt the seven, Turambar and his
comrades," and little they hoped ever to see any of them return,
and Niniel's heart died within her at the sounds; but below in the
ravine those three cravens who had watched Turambar from afar
fled now in terrror back towards the fall, and Turambar clung
nigh to the lip of the chasm white and trembling, for he was spent.
At length did those noises of horror cease, and there arose
a great smoking, for Glorund was dying. Then in utter hardihood
did Turambar creep out alone from his hiding, for in the agony
of the Foaloke his sword was dragged from his hand ere he
might withdraw it, and he cherished Gurtholfin beyond all his
possessions, for all things died, or man or beast, whom once its
edges bit. Now Turambar saw where the dragon lay, and he was
stretched out stiff upon his side, and Gurtholfin stood yet in his
belly; but he breathed still.
Nonetheless Turambar creeping up set his foot upon his body
and withdrew Gurtholfin hardly with all his strength, and as he
did so he said in the triumph of his heart: "Now do we meet again,
0 Glorund, thou and I, Turambar, who was once named brave";"
but even as he spake the evil blood spouted from that wound upon
his hand and burnt it, and it was withered, so that for the sudden
pain he cried aloud. Then the Foaloke opening his dread eyes,
looked upon him, and he fell in a swoon beside the drake and his
sword was under him.
Thus did the day draw on and there came no tidings to the
hill-top, nor could Niniel longer bear her anguish but arose
and made as to leave that glade above the waterfall, and Tamar
Lamefoot said: "What dost thou seek to do?" but she: "I would
seek my lord and lay me in death beside him, for methinks he is
dead", and he sought to dissuade her but without avail. And even
as evening fell that' fair lady crept through the woods and she
would not that Tamar should follow her, but seeing that he did so
she fled blindly through the trees, tearing her clothes and marring
her face in places of thorny undergrowth, and Tamar being lame
could not keep up with her. So fell night upon the woods and all
was still, and a great dread for Niniel fell upon Tamar, so that he
cursed his weakness and his heart was bitter, yet did he cease not
to follow so swiftly as he might, and losing sight of her he bent
his course towards that part of the forest nigh to the ravine where
had been fought the worm's last fight, for indeed that might be
perceived by the watchers on the hill. Now rose a bright moon
when the night was old, and Tamar, wandering often alone far and
wide from the woodmen's homes, knew those places, and came at
last to the edge of that desolation that the dragon had made in his
agony; but the moonlight was very bright, and staying among the
bushes near the edge of that place Tamar heard and saw all that
there betid.
Behold now Niniel had reached those places not long before

him, and straightway did she run fearless into the open for love of
her lord, and so found him lying with his withered hand in a swoon
across his sword; but the beast that lay hugely stretched beside she
heeded not at all, and falling beside Turambar she wept, and
kissed his face, and put salve upon his hand, for such she had
brought in a little box when first they sallied forth, fearing that
many hurts would be gotten ere men wended home.
Yet Turambar woke not at her touch, nor stirred, and she cried
aloud, thinking him now surely dead: "0 Turambar, my lord,
awake, for the serpent of wrath is dead and I alone am near!" But
lo! at those words the drake stirred his last, and turning his baleful
eyes upon her ere he shut them for ever said: "0 thou Nienori
daughter of Mavwin, I give thee joy that thou hast found thy
brother at the last, for the search hath been weary -- and now is he
become a very mighty fellow and a stabber of his foes unseen"; but
Nienori sat as one stunned, and with that Glorund died, and with
his death the veil of his spells fell from her, and all her memory
grew crystal clear, neither did she forget any of those things that had
 befallen her since first she fell beneath the magic of the worm; so
that her form shook with horror and anguish. Then did she start to
her feet, standing wanly in the moon, and looking upon Turambar
with wide eyes thus spake she aloud: "Then is thy doom spent at
last. Well art thou dead, 0 most unhappy," but distraught with
her woe suddenly she fled from that place and fared wildly away as
one mad whithersoever her feet led her.
But Tamar whose heart was numbed with grief and ruth followed
as he might, recking little of Turambar, for wrath at the fate of
Nienori filled all his heart. Now the stream and the deep chasm lay
across her path, but it so chanced that she turned aside ere she
came to its banks and followed its winding course through stony
and thorny places until she came once again to the glade at the
head of the great roaring fall, and it was empty as the first grey
light of a new day filtered through the trees.
There did she stay her feet and standing spake as to herself: "0
waters of the forest whither do ye go? Wilt thou take Nienori,
Nienori daughter of Urin, child of woe? 0 ye white foams, would
that ye might lave me clean -- but deep, deep must be the waters
that would wash my memory of this nameless curse. 0 bear me
hence, far far away, where are the waters of the unremembering
sea. 0 waters of the forest whither do ye go?" Then ceasing
suddenly she cast herself over the fall's brink, and perished where
it foams about the rocks below; but at that moment the sun arose

above the trees and light fell upon the waters, and the waters
roared unheeding above the death of Nienori.
Now all this did Tamar behold, and to him the light of the new
sun seemed dark, but turning from those places he went to the
hill-top and there was already gathered a great concourse of folk,
and among them were those three that had last deserted Turambar,
and they made a story for the ears of the folk. But Tamar coming
stood suddenly before them, and his face was terrible to see, so
that a whisper ran among them: "He is dead"; but others said:
"What then has befallen the little Niniel?" -- but Tamar cried
aloud: "Hear, 0 my people, and say if there is a fate like unto the
one I tell unto thee, or a woe so heavy. Dead is the drake, but at his
side lieth also Turambar dead, even he who was first called Turin
son of Urin,> and that is well; aye very well," and folk murmured,
wondering at his speech, and some said that he was mad. But
Tamar said: "For know, 0 people, that Niniel the fair beloved of
you all and whom I love dearer than my heart is dead, and the
waters roar above her, for she has leapt o'er the falls of Silver Bowl
desiring never more to see the light of day. Now endeth all that evil
spell, now is the doom of the folk of Urin terribly fulfilled, for she
that ye called Niniel was even Nienori daughter of Urin, and this
did she know or ever she died, and this did she tell to the wild
woods, and their echo came to me."
At those words did the hearts of all who stood there break for
sorrow and for dread, yet did none dare to go to the place of the
anguish of that fair lady, for a sad spirit abideth there yet and none
sets foot upon its sward; but a great remorse pierced the hearts of
those three cravens, and creeping from the throng they went to
seek their lord's body, and behold they found him stirring and
alive, for when the dragon died the swoon had left him, and he
slept a deep sleep of weariness, yet now was he awakening and was
in pain. Even as those three stood by he spake and said "Niniel",
and at that word they hid their faces for ruth and horror, and could
not look upon his face, but afterward they roused him, and behold
he was very fain of his victory; yet suddenly marking his hand he
said: "Lo! one has been that has tended my hurt with skill -- who
think ye that it was?" -- but they answered him not, for they
guessed. Now therefore was Turambar borne weary and hurt back
among his folk, and one sped before and cried that their lord lived,
but men knew not if they were glad; and as he came among them
many turned aside their faces to hide their hearts' perplexity and
their tears, and none durst speak.

But Turambar said to those that stood nigh: "Where is Niniel,
ply Niniel -- for I had thought to find her here in gladness -- yet if
she has returned rather to my halls then is it well ', but those that
heard could no longer restrain their weeping, and Turambar rose
crying: What new ill is this -- speak, speak, my people, and
torment me not." But one said: "Niniel alas is dead my lord," but
Turambar cried out bitterly against the Valar and his fate of woe,
and at last another said: <Aye, she is dead, for she fell even into the
depths of Silver Bowl, "but Tamar who stood by muttered: <Nay,
she cast herself thither." Then Turambar catching those words
seized him by the arm and cried: "Speak, thou club-foot, speak,
say what meaneth thy foul speech, or thou shalt lose thy tongue,"
for his misery was terrible to see.
Now was Tamar's heart in a great turmoil of pain for the dread
things that he had seen and heard, and the long hopelessness of his
love for Niniel, so did rage against Turambar kindle suddenly
within him, and shaking off his touch he said: "A maid thou
foundest in the wild woods and gave her a jesting name, that thou
and all the folk called her Niniel, the little one of tears. Ill was that
jest, Turambar, for lo! she has cast herself away blind with horror
and with woe, desiring never to see thee again, and the name she
named herself in death was Nienori daughter of Urin, child of
woe, nor may all the waters of the Silver Bowl as they drop into the
deep shed the full tale of tears o'er Niniel."
Then Turambar with a roar took his throat and shook him,
saying: "Thou liest -- thou evil son of Bethos" -- but Tamar gasped
"Nay, accursed one; so spake Glorund the drake, and Niniel
hearing knew that it was true." But Turambar said: "Then go
commune in Mandos with thy Glorund," and he slew him before
the face of the people, and fared after as one mad, shouting "He
lieth, he lieth"; and yet being free now of blindness and of dreams
in his deep heart he knew that it was true and that now his weird
was spent at last.
So did he leave the folk behind and drive heedless through the
woods calling ever the name of Niniel, till the woods rang most
dismally with that word, and his going led him by circuitous ways
ever to the glade of Silver Bowl, and none had dared to follow him.
There shone the sun of afternoon, and lo, were all the trees grown
sere although it was high summer still, and noise there was as of
dying autumn in the leaves. Withered were all the flowers and the
grass, and the voice of the falling water was sadder than tears for
the death of the white maiden Nienori daughter of Urin that there


had been. There stood Turambar spent at last, and there he drew
his sword, and said: "Hail, Gurtholfin, wand of death, for thou art
all men's bane and all men's lives fain wouldst thou drink, knowing
no lord or faith save the hand that wields thee if it be strong. Thee
only have I now -- slay me therefore and be swift, for life is a curse,
and all my days are creeping foul, and all my deeds are vile, and all
I love is dead." And Gurtholfin said: "That will I gladly do, for
blood is blood, and perchance thine is not less sweet than many' a
one's that thou hast given me ere now"; and Turambar cast
himself then upon the point of Gurtholfin, and the dark blade took
his life.
But later some came timidly and bore him away and laid him in
a place nigh, and raised a great mound over him, and thereafter
some drew a great rock there with a smooth face, and on it were cut
strange signs such as Turambar himself had taught them in dead
days, bringing that knowledge from the caves of the Rodothlim,
and that writing said:
Turambar slayer of Glorund the Worm
who also was Turin Mormakil
Son of Urin of the Woods
and beneath that was carven the word "Niniel" (or child of tears);
but she was not there, nor where the waters have laid her fair form
doth any man know.'
Now thereupon did Eltas cease his speaking, and suddenly all
who hearkened wept; but he said thereto: 'Yea, 'tis an unhappy
tale, for sorrow hath fared ever abroad among Men and doth so
still, but in the wild days were very terrible things done and
suffered; and yet hath Melko seldom devised more cruelty, nor do
I know a tale that is more pitiful.'
Then after a time some questioned him concerning Mavwin and
Urin and after happenings, and he said: 'Now of Mavwin hath no
sure record been preserved like unto the tale of Turin Turambar
her son, and many things are said and some of them differ from
one another; but this much can I tell to ye, that after those dread
deeds the woodfolk had no heart for their abiding place and
departed to other valleys of the wood, and yet did a few linger
sadly nigh their old homes; and once came an aged dame wandering
through the woods, and she chanced upon that carven rock. To
her did one of those woodmen read the meaning of the signs, and
he told her all the tale as he remembered it -- but she was silent, and



nor spoke nor moved. Then said he: "Thy heart is heavy, for it is a
tale to move all men to tears." But she said: "Ay, sad indeed is my
heart, for I am Mavwin, mother of those twain," and that man
perceived that not yet had that long tale of sorrow reached its
ending -- but Mavwin arose and went out into the woods crying in
anguish, and for long time she haunted that spot so that the
woodman and his folk fled and came never back, and none may
say whether indeed it was Mavwin that came there or her dark
shade that sought not back to Mandos by reason of her great
unhappiness."
Yet it is said that all these dread happenings Urin saw by the
magic of Melko, and was continually tempted by that Ainu to yield
to his will, and he would not; but when the doom of his folk was
utterly fulfilled then did Melko think to use Urin in another and
more subtle way, and he released him from that high and bitter
place where he had sat through many years in torment of heart.
But Melko went to him and spoke evilly of the Elves to him, and
especially did he accuse Tinwelint" of weakness and cravenhood.
"Never can I comprehend," said he, "wherefore it is that there be
still great and wise Men who trust to the friendship of the Elves,
and becoming fools enough to resist my might do treble their folly
in looking for sure help therein from Gnomes or Fairies. Lo, 0
Urin, but for the faint heart of Tinwelint of the woodland how
could my designs have come to pass, and perchance now had
Nienori lived and Mavwin thy wife had wept not, being glad for
the recovery of her son. Go therefore, 0 foolish one, and return to
eat the bitter bread of almsgiving in the halls of thy fair friends."
Then did Urin bowed with years and sorrow depart unmolested
from Melko's realms and came unto the better lands, but ever as he
went he pondered Melko's saying and the cunning web of woven
truth and falsity clouded his heart's eye, and he was very bitter in
spirit. Now therefore he gathered to him a band of wild Elves,"
and they were waxen a fierce and lawless folk that dwelt not with
their kin, who thrust them into the hills to live or die as they
might. On a time therefore Urin led them to the caves of the
Rodothlim, and behold the Orcs had fled therefrom at the death of
Glorund, and one only dwelt there still, an old misshapen dwarf
who sat ever on the pile of gold singing black songs of enchantment
to himself. But none had come nigh till then to despoil him, for the
terror of the drake lived longer than he, and none had ventured
thither again for dread of the very spirit of Glorund the worm."
Now therefore when those Elves approached the dwarf stood


before the doors of the cave that was once the abode of Galweg,
and he cried: "What will ye with me, 0 outlaws of the hills?" But
Urin answered: "We come to take what is not thine." Then said
that dwarf, and his name was Mim: "0 Urin, little did I think to
see thee, a lord of Men, with such a rabble. Hearken now to the
words of Mim the fatherless, and depart, touching not this gold no
more than were it venomous fires. For has not Glorund lain long
years upon it, and the evil of the drakes of Melko is on it, and no
good can it bring to Man or Elf, but I, only I, can ward it, Mim the
dwarf, and by many a dark spell have I bound it to myself." Then
Urin wavered, but his men were wroth at that, so that he bid them
seize it all, and Mim stood by and watched, and he broke forth into
terrible and evil curses. Thereat did Urin smite him, saying: "We
came but to take what was not thine -- now for thy evil words we
will take what is thine as well, even thy life."
But Mim dying said unto Urin: "Now Elves and Men shall rue
this deed, and because of the death of Mim the dwarf shall death
follow this gold so long as it remain on Earth, and a like fate shall
every part and portion share with the whole." And Urin shuddered,
but his folk laughed.
Now Urin caused his followers to bear this gold to the halls of
Tinwelint, and they murmured at that, but he said: "Are ye
become as the drakes of Melko, that would lie and wallow in gold
and seek no other joy? A sweeter life shall ye have in the court of
that king of greed, an ye bear such treasury to him, than all the
gold of Valinor can get you in the empty woods."
Now his heart was bitter against Tinwelint, and he desired to
have a vengeance on him, as may be seen. So great was that hoard
that great though Urin's company might be scarce could they bear
it to the caves of Tinwelint the king, and some 'tis said was left
behind and some was lost upon the way, and evil has followed its
finders for ever.
Yet in the end that laden host came to the bridge before the
doors, and being asked by the guards Urin said: "Say to the king
that Urin the Steadfast is come bearing gifts," and this was done.
Then Urin let bear all that magnificence before the king, but it was
hidden in sacks or shut in boxes of rough wood; and Tinwelint
greeted Urin with joy and with amaze and bid him thrice welcome,
and he and all his court arose in honour of that lord of Men; but
Urin's heart was blind by reason of his tormented years and of the
lies of Melko, and he said: "Nay, 0 King, I do not desire to hear
such words -- but say only, where is Mavwin my wife, and knowest

thou what death did Nienori my daughter die?> And Tinwelint
said that he knew not.
Then did Urin fiercely tell that tale, and the king and all his folk
 about him hid their faces for great ruth, but Urin said: "Nay," had
 you such a heart as have the least of Men, never would they have
been lost; but lo, I bring you now a payment in full for the troubles
of your puny band that went against Glorund the drake, and
 deserting gave up my dear ones to his power. Gaze, 0 Tinwelint,
sweetly on my gifts, for methinks the lustre of gold is all your heart
contains."
Then did men cast down that treasury at the king's feet, un-
covering it so that all that court were dazzled and amazed -- but
 Urin's men understood now what was forward and were little
pleased. "Behold the hoard of Glorund," said Urin, "bought by
the death of Nienori with the blood of Turin slayer of the worm.
Take it, 0 craven king, and be glad that some Men be brave to win
: thee riches."
Then were Urin's words more than Tinwelint could endure,
and he said: "What meanest thou, child of Men, and wherefore
upbraidest thou me?" Long did I foster thy son and forgave him
the evil of his deeds, and afterward thy wife I succoured, giving
way against my counsel to her wild desires. Melko it is that hates
 thee and not I. Yet what is it to me -- and wherefore dost thou of
 the uncouth race of Men endure to upbraid a king of the Eldalie?
 Lo! in Palisor my life began years uncounted before the first of
Men awoke. Get thee gone, 0 Urin, for Melko hath bewitched
thee, and take thy riches with thee" -- but he forebore to slay or to
 bind Urin in spells, remembering his ancient valiance in the
Eldar's cause.
Then Urin departed, but would not touch the gold, and stricken
in years he reached Hisilome and died among Men, but his words
living after him bred estrangement between Elves and Men. Yet it
 is said that when he was dead his shade fared into the woods
seeking Mavwin, and long those twain haunted the woods about
the fall of Silver Bowl bewailing their children. But the Elves of
Kor have told, and they know, that at last Urin and Mavwin fared
to Mandos, and Nienori was not there nor Turin their son.
Turambar indeed had followed Nienori along the black pathways
to the doors of Fui, but Fui would not open to them, neither
would Vefantur. Yet now the prayers of Urin and Mavwin came
even to Manwe, and the Gods had mercy on their unhappy fate, so
that those twain Turin and Nienori entered into Fos'Almir, the

bath of flame, even as Urwendi and her maidens had done in ages
past before the first rising of the Sun, and so were all their sorrows
and stains washed away, and they dwelt as shining Valar among
the blessed ones, and now the love of that brother and sister is
very fair; but Turambar indeed shall stand beside Fionwe in the
Great Wrack, and Melko and his drakes shall curse the sword of
Mormakil.'
And so saying Eltas made an end, and none asked further.
NOTES.
1. The passage was rejected before the change of Tintoglin to
Tinwelint; see p. 69.
Above the name Egnor is written 'Damrod the Gnome'; see Com-
mentary, pp. 139 -- 40.
3. Here and immediately below the name as first written was
Tinthellon; this rider must belong to the same time as the note on
the MS directing that Tintoglin be changed to Ellon or Tinthellon
(p. 69). See note 32.
Associated with this replacement is a note on the manuscript read-
ing: 'If Beren be a Gnome (as now in the story of Tinuviel) the
references to Beren must be altered.' In the rejected passage Egnor:
father of Beren 'was akin to Mavwin', i.e. Egnor was a Man. See
notes 5 and 6, and the Commentary, p. 139.
'Turin son of Urin'. original reading 'Beren Ermabwed'. See notes 4
and 6.
6. Original reading 'and when also the king heard of the kinship:
between Mavwin and Beren'. See notes 4 and 5.
Linwe (Tinto) was the king's original 'Elvish' name, and belongs to
the same 'layer' of names as Tintoglin (see I. I 15, 13 I). Its retention'
here (not changed to Tinwe) is clearly a simple oversight. See notes
19 and 20.
8. Original reading 'seeing that he was a Man of great size'.
9. With this passage cf. that in the Tale of Tinuviel p. 11, which is '
closely similar. That the passage in Turambar is the earlier (to be '
presumed in any case) is shown by the fact that that in Tinuviel is
only relevant if Beren is a Gnome, not a Man (see note 4).
10. 'dreams came to them': original reading 'dreams the Valar sent to
them'.
11. 'and his name was Glorund' was added later, as were the subsequent -
occurrences of the name on pp. 86, 94, 98; but from the first on .
p. 103 onwards Glorund appears in the manuscript as first written.
12. 'with the aid of Flinding whose wounds were not great': original
reading 'with the aid of a lightly wounded man'. All the subsequent
references to Flinding in this passage were added.


  13.
14.
15.
16.
Original reading 'Turin's heart was bitter, and so it was that he and
that other alone returned from that battle'. -- In the phrase 'reproach-
ing Turin that he had ever withstood his wise counsels"ever' means
'always': Turin had always resisted Orodreth's counsels.
Original reading 'although all folk at that time held such a deed
grievous and cowardly'.
Original reading 'and to look upon Nienori again'. This was emended
to 'and to look upon Nienori whom he had never seen'. The words
'since his first days' were added still later.
The following passage was struck out, apparently at the time of
writing:
"Indeed," said they, "it is the report of men of travel and rangers
of the hills that for many and many moons have even the farthest
marches been free of them and unwonted safe, and so have many
men fared out of Hisilome to the Lands Beyond." And this was
the truth that during the life of Turambar as an exile from the
court of Tintoglin or hidden amongst the Rothwarin Melko had
troubled Hisilome little and the paths thereto.
 17.
 18.
 19.
 20.
12.
23.
25.
(Rothwarin was the original form throughout, replaced later by
Rodothlim.) See p. 92, where the situation described in the rejected
passage is referred to the earlier time (before the destruction of the
Rodothlim) when Mavwin and Nienori left Hisilorne.
Original reading 'twice seven'. When Turin fled from the land of
Tinwelint it was exactly 12 years since he had left his mother's house
(p. 75), and Nienori was born before that, but just how long before
is not stated.
After 'a great and terrible project afoot' the original reading was 'the
story of which entereth not into this tale'. I do not know whether this
means that when my father first wrote here of Melko's 'project' he
did not have the destruction of the Rodothlim in mind.
'the king': original reading 'Linwe'. See note 7.
Linwe': an oversight. See note 7.
'that high place': original reading 'a hill'.
This sentence, 'And even so was Turin's boast...', was added in
pencil later. The reference is to Turin's naming himself Turambar --
'from this hour shall none name me Turin if I live', p. 86.
This sentence, from 'for his lineage...' to approximately this point,
is very lightly struck through. On the opposite page of the MS is
hastily scribbled: 'Make Turambar never tell new folk of his lineage
(will bury the past) -- this avoids chance (as cert.) of Niniel hearing
his lineage from any.' See Commentary, p. 13 I.
Against this sentence there is a pencilled question-mark in the
margin. See note 23 and the Commentary, p. 13 I.
'And Niniel conceived' was added in pencil later. See Commentary,
P 135.
26.
27.
28.
29.
'and the captain of these was Mim the dwarf' added afterwards in
pencil. See Commentary p. 137.
The word tract may be read as track, and the word hurt (but with
less probability) as burnt.
As it stands this sentence can hardly mean other than that the people
thought that the men were fighting among themselves; but why
should they think such a thing? More likely, my father inadvertently
missed out the end of the sentence: 'betwixt the seven, Turambar
and his comrades, and the dragon.'
Turambar refers to Glorund's words to him before the caves of
the Rodothlim: '0 Turin Mormakil, who wast once named brave'
(p.86)
30.
31.
32.
33.
34.
35.
36.
These words, from 'even he who...', were added later in pencil.
Urin may also be read as Hurin.
From this point to the end of Eltas' tale the original text was struck .
through, and is followed in the manuscript book by two brief
narrative.outlines, these being rejected also. The text given here
(from 'Yet it is said...') is found on slips placed in the book. For the
rejected material see the Commentary, pp. 135 -- 7.
Throughout the final portion of the text (that written on slips, see
note 31) the king's name was first written Tinthellon, not Tintoglin
(see note 3).
'Elves': original reading 'men'. The same change was made below
('Now therefore when those Elves approached'), and a little later
'men' was removed in two places ('his folk laughed', 'Urin caused his
followers to bear the gold', p. 114 ); but several occurrences of 'men'
were retained, possibly through oversight, though 'men' is used
of Elves very frequently in the Tale of Turambar (e.g. 'Beleg and
Flinding both stout men', p. So).
This sentence, from 'But none had come nigh...', was added later
in pencil.
This sentence, from 'Then did Urin fiercely...', was added later,
replacing 'Then said Urin: "Yet had you such a heart..."'
This sentence, from "What meanest thou...", replaces the original
reading "Begone, and take thy filth with thee."
Changes made to names in
The Tale of Turambar.
Fuithlug < Fothlug < Fothlog
Nienori At the first occurrence (p. 71) my father originally wrote
Nyenore (Nienor). Afterwards he struck out Nyenore, removed
the brackets round Nienor, and added -i, giving Nienori. At
subsequent occurrences the name was written both Nienor and

The opening passage agrees in almost all essentials with the ultimate
form of the story. Thus there go back to the beginning of the 'tradition'
(or at least to its earliest extant form) the departure of Hurin to the Battle
of Unnumbered Tears at the summons of the Noldor, while his wife
(Mavwin = Morwen) and young son Turin remained behind; the great
stand of Hurin's men, and Hurin's capture by Morgoth; the reason for
Hurin's torture (Morgoth's wish to learn the whereabouts of Turgon)
and the mode of it, and Morgoth's curse; the birth of Nienor shortly after
the great battle.
That Men were shut in Hisilome (or Hithlum, the Gnomish form,
which here first appears, equated with Dor Lomin, p. 71 ) after the Battle
of Unnumbered Tears is stated in The Coming of the Elves (I. 118) and
in the last of the outlines for Gilfanon's Tale (I.241); later on this
was transformed into the confinement of the treacherous Easterling Men
in Hithlum (The Silmarillion p. 195), and their ill-treatment of the
survivors of the House of Hador became an essential element in the story
of Turin's childhood. But in the Tale of Turambar the idea is already
present that 'the strange men who dwelt nigh knew not the dignity of the
Lady Mavwin'. It is not in fact clear where Urin dwelt: it is said here that
after the battle 'Mavwin got her in tears into the land of Hithlum or Dor
Lomin where all Men must now dwell', which can only mean that she
went there, on account of Melko's command, from wherever she had
dwelt with Urin before; on the other hand, a little later in the tale
(p. 73), and in apparent contradiction to this, Mavwin would not accept
the invitation of Tinwelint to come to Artanor partly because (it is
suggested) 'she clung to that dwelling that Urin had set her in ere he
ment to the great war'.
In the later story Morwen resolved to send Turin away from fear that
he would be enslaved by the Easterlings (Narn p. 70), whereas here all
that is said is that Mavwin 'knew not in her distress how to foster both
him and his sister' (which presumably reflects her poverty). This in turn
reflects a further difference, namely that here Nienori was born before
Turin's departure (but see p. 131); in the later legend he and his,
companions left Dor-lomin in the autumn of the Year of Lamentation
and Nienor was born early in the following year -- thus he had never seen
her, even as an infant.
An important underlying difference is the absence in the tale of the
motive that Hurin had himself visited Gondolin, a fact known to Morgoth
and the reason for his being taken alive (The Silmarillion pp. 158 -- 9,
196-7); this element in the story arose much later, when the founding of
Gondolin was set far back and long before the Battle of Unnumbered
Tears.
(ii) Turin in Artanor (pp. 72 -- 6).
From the original story of Turin's journey the two old men who accom-
panied him, one of whom returned to Mavwin while the older remained
with Turin, were never lost; and the cry of Turin as they set out
reappears in the Narn (p. 73): 'Morwen, Morwen, when shall I see you
again?'
Beleg was present from the beginning, as was the meaning of his name:
'he was called Beleg for he was of great stature' (see I. 254, entry Haloisi
velike, and the Appendix to The Silmarillion, entry beleg); and he
plays the same role in the old story, rescuing the travellers starving in the
forest and taking them to the king.
In the later versions there is no trace of the remarkable message sent by
Tinwelint to Mavwin, and indeed his curiously candid explanation, that
he held aloof from the Battle of Unnumbered Tears because in his
wisdom he foresaw that Artanor could become a refuge if disaster befell,
is hardly in keeping with his character as afterwards conceived. There
were of course quite other reasons for his conduct (The Silmarillion
p. 189). On the other hand, Mavwin's motives for not herself leaving
Hithlum remained unchanged (see the passage in the Narn, p. 70, where
the word 'almsguest' is an echo of the old tale); but the statement is
puzzling that Mavwin might, when Nienori was grown, have put aside
her pride and passed over the mountains, had they not become impassable
-- clearly suggesting that she never left Hithlum. Perhaps the meaning is,
however, that she might have made the journey earlier (while Turin was
still in Artanor) than she in fact did (when for a time the ways became
easier, but Turin had gone).
The character of Turin as a boy reappears in every stroke of the
description in the Narn (p. 77):
It seemed that fortune was unfriendly to him, so that often what he
designed went awry, and what he desired he did not gain; neither did
he win friendship easily, for he was not merry, and laughed seldom,
and a shadow lay on his youth.
(It is a notable point that is added in the tale: 'at no time did he give
much heed to words that were spoken to him'). And the ending of all
word between Turin and his mother comes about in the same way --
increased guard on the mountains (Narn p. 78).
While the story of Turin and Saeros as told in The Silmarillion, and in
far more detail in the Narn, goes back in essentials to the Tale of
Turambar, there are some notable differences -- the chief being that as
the story was first told Turin's tormentor was slain outright by the
thrown drinking-cup. The later complications of Saeros' treacherous
assault on Turin the following day and his chase to the death, of the trial
of Turin in his absence for this deed and of the testimony of Nellas (this
last only in the Narn) are entirely absent, necessarily; nor does Mablung
appear -- indeed it seems clear that Mablung first emerged at the end of
the Tale of Tinuviel (see p. 59). Some details survived (as the comb

which Orgof/Saeros offered tauntingly to Turin, Narn p. 80), while
others were changed or neglected (as that it was the anniversary of
Turin's departure from his home -- though the figure of twelve years
agrees with the later story, and that the king was present in the hall;
contrast Narn p. 79). But the taunt that roused Turin to murderous rage
remained essentially the same, in that it touched on his mother; and the
story was never changed that Turin came into the hall tousled and
roughly clad, and that he was mocked for this by his enemy.
Orgof is not greatly distinct from Saeros, if less developed. He was in
the king's favour, proud, and jealous of Turin; in the later story he was a
Nandorin Elf while here he is an Ilkorin with some Gnomish blood (for
Gnomes in Artanor see p. 65), but doubtless some peculiarity in his
origin was part of the 'tradition'. In the old story he is explicitly a fop and
a fool, and he is not given the motives of hatred for Turin that are
ascribed to him in the Narn (p. 77).
Though far simpler in narrative, the essential element of Turin's
ignorance of his pardon was present from the outset. The tale provides
an explanation, not found later, of why Turin did not, on leaving
Artanor, return to Hithlum; cf. the Narn p. 87: 'to Dor-lomin he did not
dare, for it was closely beset, and one man alone could not hope at that
time, as he thought, to come through the passes of the Mountains of
Shadow.'
Turin's prowess against the Orcs during his sojourn in Artanor is
given a more central or indeed unique importance in the tale ('he held
the wrath of Melko from them for many years') especially as Beleg, his
companion-in-arms in the later versions, is not here mentioned (and in
this passage the power of the queen to withstand invasion of the kingdom
seems again (see p. 63) less than it afterwards became).
(iii) Turin and Beleg (pp. 76-81).
That part of the Turin saga following on his days in Artanor/Doriath
underwent a large development later ('Turin among the Outlaws'), and
indeed my father never brought this part of the story to finality. In the
oldest version there is a much more rapid development of the plot: Beleg
joins Turin's band, and the destruction of the band and capture of Turin
by the Orcs follows (in terms of the narrative) almost immediately.
There is no mention of 'outlaws' but only of 'wild spirits', no long search
for Turin by Beleg, no capture and maltreatment of Beleg by the band,
and no betrayal of the camp by a traitor (the part ultimately taken by
Mim the Dwarf). Beleg indeed (as already noticed) is not said to have
been Turin's companion in the earlier time, before the slaying of Orgof,
and they only take up together after Turin's self-imposed exile.
Beleg is called a Noldo (p. 78), and if this single reference is to be given
full weight (and there seems no reason not to: it is explicit in the Tale of
Tinuviel that there were Noldoli in Artanor, and Orgof had Gnomish

blood) then it is to be observed that Beleg as originally conceived was an
Elf of Kor. He is not here marked out as a great bowman (neither his
name Cuthalion 'Strongbow' nor his great bow Belthronding appear); he
is described at his first appearance (p. 73) as 'a wood-ranger, a huntsman
of the secret Elves', but not as the chief of the marchwardens of the
realm.
But from the capture of Turin to the death of Beleg the old tale was
scarcely changed afterwards in any really important respect, though
altered in many details: such as Beleg's shooting of the wolf-sentinels
silently in the darkness in the later story, and the flash of lightning that
illuminated Beleg's face -- but the blue-shining lamps of the Noldor
appear again in much later writings: one was borne by the Elves Gelmir
and Arminas who guided Tuor through the Gate of the Noldor on his
journey to the sea (see Unfinished Tales pp. 22, 51 note z). In my
father's painting (probably dating from 1927 or 1928) of the meeting
between Beleg and Flinding in Taur-nu-Fuin (reproduced in Pictures
by J. R.R. Tolkien, no. 37) Flinding's lamp is seen beside him. The plot
of the old story is very precisely contrived in such details as the reason for
the carrying of Turin, still sleeping, out of the Orc-camp, and for Beleg's
using his sword, rather than a knife, to cut Turin's bonds; perhaps also in
the crushing of Beleg by Turin so that he was winded and could not speak
his name before Turin gave him his death-blow.
The story of Turin's madness after the slaying of Beleg, the guidance
of Gwindor, and the release of Turin's tears at Eithel Ivrin, is here in
embryo. Of the peculiar nature of Beleg's sword there is no suggestion.
(iv) Turin among the Rodothlim; Turin and Glorund (pp. 81 -- 8).
In this passage is found (so far as written record goes, for it is
to be remembered that a wholly erased text underlies the manuscript)
the origin of Nargothrond, as yet unnamed. Among many remarkable
features the chief is perhaps that Orodreth was there before Felagund,
Lord of Caves, with whom in the later legend Nargothrond was identified,
as its founder and deviser. (In The Silmarillion Orodreth was one of
Finrod Felagund's brothers (the sons of Finarfin), to whom Felagund
gave the command of Minas Tirith on Tol Sirion after the making of
Nargothrond (p. 120), and Orodreth became King of Nargothrond after
Felagund's death.) In the tale this cave-dwelling of exiled Noldoli
is a simpler and rougher place, and (as is suggested) short-lived against
the overwhelming power of Melko; but, as so often, there were many
features that were never altered, even though in a crucial respect the
history of Nargothrond was to be greatly modified by contact with the
legend of Beren and Tinuviel. Thus the site was from the start 'above a
stream' (the later Narog) that 'ran down to feed the river Sirion', and as is
seen later (p. 96) the bank of the river on the side of the caves was higher
and the hills drew close: cf. The Silmarillion p. 114: 'the caves under the


High Faroth in its steep western shore'. The policy of secrecy and refusal
of open war pursued by the Elves of Nargothrond was always an essential
element (cf. The Silmarillion pp. 168, 170),> as was the overturning of
that policy by the confidence and masterfulness of Turin (though in the
tale there is no mention of the great bridge that he caused to be built).
Here, however, the fall of the redoubt is perhaps more emphatically
attributed to Turin, his coming there seen more simply as a curse, and
the disaster as more inevitably proceeding from his unwisdom: at least in
the fragments of this part of the Narn (pp. r 55 -- 7) Turin's case against
Gwindor, who argued for the continuation of secrecy, is seemingly not
without substance, despite the outcome. But the essential story is the
same: Turin's policy revealed Nargothrond to Morgoth, who came
against it with overwhelming strength and destroyed it.
In relation to the earliest version the roles of Flinding (Gwindor),
Failivrin (Finduilas), t and Orodreth were to undergo a remarkable set
of transferences. In the old tale Flinding had been of the Rodothlim
before his capture and imprisonment in Angband, just as afterwards
Gwindor came from Nargothrond (but with a great development in his
story, see The Silmarillion pp. 188, 191--2), and on his return was so
changed as to be scarcely recognisable (I pass over such enduring minor
features as the taking of Turin and Flinding/Gwindor prisoner on their
coming to the caves). The beautiful Failivrin is already present, and her
unrequited love for Turin, but the complication of her former relation
with Gwindor is quite absent, and she is not the daughter of Orodreth the
King but of one Galweg (who was to disappear utterly). Flinding is not
shown as opposed to Turin's policies; and in the final battle he aids Turin
in bearing Orodreth out of the fight. Orodreth dies (after being carried
back to the caves) reproaching Turin for what he has brought to pass -- as
does Gwindor dying in The Silmarillion (p. 213), with the added
bitterness of his relation with Finduilas. But Failivrin's father Galweg is
slain in the battle, as is Finduilas' father Orodreth in The Silmarillion.
Thus in the evolution of the legend Orodreth took over the role of
Galweg, while Gwindor took over in part the role of Orodreth.
As I have noticed earlier, there is no mention in the tale of any
peculiarity attaching to Beleg's sword, and though the Black Sword is
already present it was made for Turin on the orders of Orodreth, and its
blackness and its shining pale edges were of its first making (see The
Silmarillion pp. 209 -- 10). Its power of speech ('it is said that at times it
spake dark words to him') remained afterwards in its dreadful words to
Turin before his death (Narn p. 145) -- a motive that appears already
(* From the first of these passages it seems that when Beren came to
Nargothrond the
'secret' policy was already pursued under Felagund; but (rom the second it
seems that it
came into being from the potent rhetoric of Curufin after Beren went there.
f In The Silmarillion she is named Finduilas, and the name Faclivrin 'which is
the
gleam o( the sun on the pools of Ivrin' was given to her by Gwindor (pp. 209 --
10).)

in the tale, p. 112; and Turin's name derived from the sword (here
Mormagli, Mormakil, later Mormegil) was already devised. But
of Turin's disguising of his true name in Nargothrond there is no
suggestion: indeed it is explicitly stated that he said who he was.
Of Gelmir and Arminas and the warning they brought to Nargothrond
from Ulmo (Narn pp. 159 -- 62) the germ can perhaps be seen in the
'whispers in the stream at eve', which undoubtedly implies messages
from Ulmo (see p. 77).
The dragon Glorund is named in the 'lengthening spell' in the Tale of
Tinuviel (pp. 19, 46), but the actual name was only introduced in the
course of the writing of the Tale of Turambar (see note x x). There is no
suggestion that he had played any previous part in the history, or indeed
that he was the first of his kind, the Father of Dragons, with a long record
of evil already before the Sack of Nargothrond. Of great interest is the
passage in which the nature of the dragons of Melko is defined: their evil
wisdom, their love of lies and gold (which 'they may not use or enjoy'),
and the knowledge of tongues that Men say would come from eating a
dragon's heart (with evident reference to the legend in the Norse Edda of
Sigurd Fafnisbane, who was enabled to understand, to his own great
profit, the speech of birds when he ate the heart of the dragon Fafnir,
roasting it on a spit).
The story of the sack of Nargothrond is somewhat differently treated
in the old story, although the essentials were to remain of the driving
away of Failivrin/Finduilas among the captives and of the powerlessness
of Turin to aid her, being spellbound by the dragon. Minor differences
(such as the later arrival of Glorund on the scene: in The Silmarillion
Turin only came back to Nargothrond after Glaurung had entered the
caves and the sack was 'well nigh achieved') and minor agreements (such
as the denial of the plunder to the Orcs) may here be passed over; most
interesting is the account of Turin's words with the dragon. Here the
whole issue of Turin's escaping or not escaping his doom is introduced,
and it is significant that he takes the name Turambar at this juncture,
whereas in the later legend he takes it when he joins the Woodmen in
Brethil, and less is made of it. The old version is far less powerfully
and concisely expressed, and the dragon's words are less subtle and
ingeniously untrue. Here too the moral is very explicitly pointed, that
Turin should not have abandoned Failivrin 'in danger that he himself
could see' -- does this not suggest that, even under the dragon's spell as he
was, there was a weakness (a 'blindness', see p. 83) in Turin which the
dragon touched? As the story is told in The Silmarillion the moral would
seem uncalled for: Turin was opposed by an adversary too powerful for
his mind and will.
There is here a remarkable passage in which suicide is declared a sin,
depriving such a one of all hope 'that ever his spirit would be freed from
the dark glooms of Mandos or stray into the pleasant paths of Valinor'.
This seems to go with the perplexing passage in the tale of The Coming


of the Valar and the Building of Valinor concerning the fates of Men:
see p. 60.
Finally, it is strange that in the old story the gold and treasure was
carried out from the caves by the Orcs and remained there (it 'lay by the
caves above the stream'), and the dragon most uncharacteristically 'slept
before it' in the open. In The Silmarillion Glaurung 'gathered all the
hoard and riches of Felagund and heaped them, and lay upon them in the
innermost hall'.
(v) Turin's return to Hithlum (pp. 88 -- 91).
In this passage the case is much as in previous parts of the tale: the large
structure of the story was not greatly changed afterwards, but there are
many important differences nonetheless.
In the Tale of Turambar it is clear that the house of Mavwin was not
imagined as standing near to the hills or mountains that formed the
barrier between Hithlum and the Lands Beyond: Turin was told that
never did Orcs 'come hither deep into the land of Hisilome', in contrast to
the Narn (p. 68), where 'Hurin's house stood in the south-east of Dor-
lomin, and the mountains were near; Nen Lalaith indeed came down
from a spring under the shadow of Amon Darthir, over whose shoulder
there was a steep pass'. The removal of Mavwin from one house to
another in Hithlum, visited in turn by Turin as he sought for her, was
afterwards rejected, to the improvement of the story. Here Turin comes
back to his old home in the late summer, whereas in The Silmarillion the
fall of Nargothrond took place in the late autumn ('the leaves fe1l from
the trees in a great wind as they went, for the autumn was passing to a dire
winter,' p. 213) and Turin came to Dor-lomin in the Fell Winter (p. 215).
The names Brodda and Airin (later spelled Aerin) remained; but
Brodda is here the lord of the land, and Airin plays a more important part
in the scene in the hall, dealing justice with vigour and wisdom, than she
does later. It is not said here that she had been married by force, though
her life with Brodda is declared to have been very evil; but of course the
situation in the later narratives is far more clear-cut -- the Men of Hithlum
were 'Easterlings', 'Incomers' hostile to the Elves and the remnant of the
House of Hador, whereas in the early story no differentiation is made
among them, and indeed Brodda was 'a man whom Mavwin trusted'.
The motive of Brodda's ill-treatment of Mavwin is already present, but
only to the extent that he embezzled her goods after her departure; in the
Narnit seems from Aerin's words to Turin (p. 107) that the oppression
of Morwen by Brodda and others was the cause of her going at last to
Doriath. In the brief account in The Silmarillion (p. 215) it is not indeed
made explicit that Brodda in particular deserved Turin's hatred.
Turin's conduct in the hall is in the tale essentially simpler: the true
story has been told to him by a passer-by, he enters to exact vengeance on
Brodda for thieving Mavwin's goods, and he does so with dispatch. As



told in the Narn, where Turin's eyes are only finally opened to the
deception that has been practised upon him by the words of Aerin, who is
present in the hall, his rage is more passionate, crazed, and bitter, and
indeed more comprehensible: and the moral observation that Turin's
deed was 'violent and unlawful' is not made. The story of Airin's judge-
ment on these doings, made in order to save Turin, was afterwards
removed; and Turin's solitary departure was expanded, with the addition
also of the firing of Brodda's hall by Aerin (Narn p. 109).
Some details survived all the changes: in the Narn Turin still seizes
Brodda by the hair, and just as in the tale his rage suddenly expired after
the deed of violence ('his wrath was grown cold'), so in the Narn 'the fire
of his rage was as ashes'. It may be noticed here that while in the old story
Turin does not rename himself so often, his tendency to do so is already
present.
The story of how Turin came among the Woodmen and delivered
 them from Orcs is not found in the Tale of Turambar; nor is there any
mention of the Mound of Finduilas near the Crossings of Teiglin nor any
account of her fate.
(vi) The return of Gumlin to Hithlum and the departure of
Mavwin and Nienori to Artanor (pp. 91 -- 3).
In the later story the elder of Turin's guardians (Gumlin in the tale,
Grithnir in the Narn) plays no part after his bringing Turin to Doriath:
 it is only said that he stayed there till he died (Narn p. 74); and Morwen
had no tidings out of Doriath before leaving her home -- indeed she only
 learnt that Turin had left Thingol's realm when she got there (The
 Silmarillion p. 211; cf. Aerin's words in the Narn, p. 107: 'She looked to
 find her son there awaiting her.') This whole section of the tale does no
more than explain with what my father doubtless felt (since he afterwards
 rejected it almost in its entirety) to be unnecessary complication why
 Mavwin went to Tinwelint. I think it is clear, however, that the difference
between the versions here depends on the different views of Mavwin's
(Morwen's) condition in Hithlum. In the old story she is not suffering
hardship and oppression; she trusts Brodda to the extent of entrusting
not only her goods to him but even her daughter, and is said indeed to
have 'peace and honour among the men of those regions'; the chieftains
speak of the love they bear her. A motive for her departure is found in the
 coming of Gumlin and the news he brings of Turin's flight from the lands
of Tinwelint. In the later story, on the other hand, Brodda's character as
tyrant and oppressor is extended, and it is Morwen's very plight at his
hands that leads her to depart. (The news that came to Turin in Doriath
that 'Morwen's plight was eased' (Narn p. 77, cf. The Silmarillion
p. 199) is probably a survival from the old story; nothing is said in the
later narratives to explain how this came about, and ceased.) In either
 case her motive for leaving is coupled with the fact of the increased safety



of the lands; but whereas in the later story the reason for this was the
prowess of the Black Sword of Nargothrond, in the tale it was the 'great
and terrible project' of Melko that was afoot -- the assault on the caves of
the Rodothlim (see note 18).
It is curious that in this passage Airin and Brodda are introduced as if
for the first time. It is perhaps significant that the part of the tale
extending from the dragon's words 'Hearken to me, 0 son of Urin...' on
p. 87 to '... fell to his knees before Tinwelint' on p. 92 was written
in a separate part of the manuscript book: possibly this replaced an
earlier text in which Brodda and Airin did not appear. But many such
questions arise from the earliest manuscripts, and few can now be
certainly unravelled.
(vii) Mavwin and Nienori in Artanor and their meeting
with Glorund (pp. 93 -- 9).
The next essential step in the development of the plot -- the learning by
Mavwin/Morwen of Turin's sojourn in Nargothrond -- is more neatly and
naturally handled in The Silmarillron (p. 217) and the Narn (p. 112),
where news is brought to Thingol by fugitives from the sack, in contrast
to the Tale of Turambar, where Mavwin and Nienori only learn of the:
destruction of the Elves of the Caves from a band of Noldoli while
themselves wandering aimlessly in the forest. It is odd that these Noldoli
did not name Turin by his name but only as the Mormakil: it seems that
they did not know who he was, but they knew enough of his history to
make his identity plain to Mavwin. As noted above, Turin declared his
name and lineage to the Elves of the Caves. In the later narrative, on
the other hand, Turin did conceal it in Nargothrond, calling himself
Agarwaen, but all those who brought news of the fall to Doriath 'declared
that it was known to many in Nargothrond ere the end that the Mormegil
was none other than Turin son of Hurin of Dor-lomin'.
As often, unneeded complication in the early story was afterwards
cleared away: thus the elaborate argumentation needed to get Tinwelint's
warriors and Mavwin and Nienori on the road together is gone from The
Silmarillion and the Narn. In the tale the ladies and the Elvish warriors
all set off together with the full intention that the former shall watch
developments from a high place (afterwards Amon Ethir, the Hill of
Spies); in the later story Morwen simply rides off, and the party of Elves,
led by Mablung, follows after her, with Nienor among them in disguise.
Particularly notable is the passage in the tale in which Mavwin holds
out the great gold-hoard of the Rodothlim as a bait to Tinwelint, and
Tinwelint unashamedly admits that (as a wild Elf of the woods) it is this,
not any hope of aiding Turin, that moves him to send out a party. The
majesty, power, and pride of Thingol rose with the development of the
conception of the Grey-elves of Beleriand; as I have said earlier (p. 63)
'In the beginning, Tinwelint's dwelling was not a subterranean city full

of marvels... but a rugged cave', and here he is seen planning a foray to
 augment his slender wealth in precious things -- a far cry from the
description of his vast treasury in the Narn (p. 76):
Now Thingol had in Menegroth deep armouries filled with great
wealth of weapons: metal wrought like fishes' mail and shining like
water in the moon; swords and axes, shields and helms, wrought by
Telchar himself or by his master Gamil Zirak the old, or by elven-
wrights more skilful still. For some things he had received in gift that
came out of Valinor and were wrought by Feanor in his mastery, than
whom no craftsman was greater in all the days of the world.
Great as are the differences from the later legend in the encounter with
 the dragon, the stinking vapours raised by his lying in the river as the
 cause of the miscarriage of the plan, the maddened flight of the horses,
and the enspelling of Nienor so that all memory of her past was lost, are
already present. Most striking perhaps of the many differences is the fact
that Mavwin was present at the conversation with Glorund; and of these
 speeches there is no echo in the Narn (pp. 118-19), save that Nienor's
naming of Turin as the object of their quest revealed her identity to the
dragon (this is explicit in the Narn, and may probably be surmised from
the tale). The peculiar tone of Glaurung in the later narrative, sneering
and curt, knowing and self-possessed, and unfathomably wicked, can be
detected already in the words of Glorund, but as he evolved he gained
immeasurably in dread by becoming more laconic.
The chief difference of structure lies in the total absence of the
'Mablung-element' from the tale, nor is there any foreshadowing of it.
There is no suggestion of an exploration of the sacked dwellings in the
dragon's absence (indeed he does not, as it appears, go any distance from
them); the purpose of the expedition from Artanor was expressly warlike
('a strong party against the Foaloke', 'they prepared them for battle'),
since Tinwelint had hopes of laying hands on the treasure, whereas
afterwards it became purely a scouting foray, for Thingol 'desired greatly
to know more of the fate of Nargothrond' (Narn p. 113).
A curious point is that though Mavwin and Nienori were to be stationed
on the tree-covered 'high place' that was afterward called the Hill of
Spies, and where they were in fact so stationed in The Silmarillion and
the Narn, it seems that in the old story they never got there, but were
ensnared by Glorund where he lay in, or not far from, the river. Thus the
'high place' had in the event almost no significance in the tale.
(viii) Turambar and Niniel (pp. 99- 102).
In the later legend Nienor was found by Mablung after her enspelling by
Glaurung, and with three companions he led her back towards the


borders of Doriath. The chase after Nienor by the band of Orcs (Nant
p. 120) is present in the tale, but it does not have its later narrative
function of leading to Nienor's Right and loss by Mablung and the other
Elves (who do not appear): rather it leads directly to her rescue by
Turambar, now dwelling among the Woodmen. In the Narn (p. 122) the
Woodmen of Brethil did indeed come past the spot where they found her
on their return from a foray against Orcs; but the circumstances of
her finding are altogether different, most.especially since there is in the
tale no mention of the Haudh-en-Elleth, the Mound of Finduilas.
An interesting detail concerns Nienor's response to Turambar's naming
her Niniel. In The Silmarillion and the Narn 'she shook her head, but
said: Niniel'; in the present text she said: 'Not Niniel, not Niniel.' One
has the impression that in the old story what impressed her darkened
mind was only the resemblance of Niniel to her own forgotten name,
Nienori (and of Turambar to Turin), whereas in the later she both
denied and in some way accepted the name Niniel.
An original element in the legend is the Woodmen's bringing of Niniel
to a place ('Silver Bowl') where there was a great waterfall (afterwards
Dimrost, the Rainy Stair, where the stream of Celebros 'fell towards
Teiglin'): and these falls were near to the dwellings of the Woodmen --
but the place where they found Niniel was much further off in the forest
(several days' journey) than were the Crossings of Teiglin from Dimrost.
When she came there she was filled with dread, a foreboding of what was
to happen there afterwards, and this is the origin of her shuddering fit in
the later narratives, from which the place was renamed Nen Girith, the
Shuddering Water (see Narn p. 149, note 24).
The utter darkness imposed on Niniel's mind by the dragon's spell is
less emphasized in the tale, and there is no suggestion that she needed to
relearn her very language; but it is interesting to observe the recurrence
in a changed context of the simile of 'one that seeks for something
mislaid'. in the Narn (p. 123) Niniel is said to have taken great delight in
the relearning of words, 'as one that finds again treasures great and small
that were mislaid'.
The lame man, here called Tamar, and his vain love of Niniel already
appear; unlike his later counterpart Brandir he was not the chief of the
Woodmen, but he was the son of the chief. He was also Half-elven! Most
extraordinary is the statement that the wife of Bethos the chieftain and
mother of Tamar was an Elf, a woman of the Noldoli: this is mentioned
in passing, as if the great signincance and rarity of the ur '.on of Elf and
Mortal had not yet emerged -- but in a Name-list associated with the tale
of The Fall of Gondolin Earendel is said to be 'the only being that is half
of the kindred of the Eldalie and half of Men' (p. 215).*
(* In a later rewriting of a passage in that tale (p. 164 and note 22) it is said of
Tuor and
Idril of Gondolin: 'Thus was first wed a child of Men with a daughter of
Elfinesse, nor was
Tuor the last.')



The initial reluctance of Niniel to receive Turambar's suit is given no
explanation in the tale: the implication must be that some instinct, some
subconscious appreciation of the truth, held her back. In The Silmarillion
(p. 220)
for that time she delayed in spite of her love. For Brandir foreboded he
knew not what, and sought to restrain her, rather for her sake than his
own or rivalry with Turambar; and he revealed to her that Turambar
was Turin son of Hurin, and though she knew not the name a shadow
fell upon her mind.
In the final version as in the oldest, the Woodmen knew who Turambar
was. My father's scribbled directions for the alteration of the story cited
in note 23 ('Make Turambar never tell new folk of his lineage...') are
puzzling: for since Niniel had lost all memory of her past she would not
know the names Turin son of Hurin even if it were told to her that
Turambar was he. It is however possible that when my father wrote this
he imagined Niniel's lost knowledge of herself and her family as being
nearer the surface of her mind, and capable of being brought back by
hearing the names -- in contrast to the later story where she did not
consciously recognise the name of Turin even when Brandir told it to
her. Clearly the question-mark against the reference in the text of the
tale to Turambar's speaking to Niniel 'of his father and mother and
the sister he had not seen' and Niniel's distress at his words (see
note 24) depends on the same train of thought. The statement here that
Turambar had never seen his sister is at variance with what is said earlier
in the tale, that he did not leave Hithlum until after Nienori's birth
(p. 71); but my father was uncertain on this point, as is clearly seen from
the succession of readings, changed back and forth between the two
ideas, given in note 15.
(ix) The slaying of Clorund (pp. 103 -- 8).
In this section I follow the narrative of the tale as far as Turin's
swoon when the dying dragon opened his eyes and looked at him. Here
the later story runs very close to the old, but there are many interesting
differences.
In the tale Glorund is said to have had bands of both Orcs and Noldoli
subject to him, but only the Orcs remained afterwards; cf. the Narn
p. 125:
Now the power and malice of Glaurung grew apace, and he waxed fat
[cf. 'the Foaloke waxed fat'], and he gathered Orcs to him, and ruled as
a dragon-King, and all the realm of Nargothrond that had been was
laid under him.




The mention in the tale that Tinwelint's people were 'grievously
harried' by Glorund's bands suggests once again that the magic of the
Queen was no very substantial protection; while the statement that
'at length there came some [Orcs] nigh even to those woods and glades
that were beloved of Turambar and his folk' seems at variance with
Turambar's saying to Niniel earlier that 'we are hard put to it to fend
those evil ones from our homes' (p. 100). There is no mention here of
Turambar's pledge to Niniel that he would go to battle only if the homes
of the Woodmen were assailed (Narn pp. 125 -- 6); and there is no figure
corresponding to Dorlas of the later versions. Tamar's character, briefty
described (p. 106), is in accord so far as it goes with what is later told of
Brandir, but the relationship of Brandir to Niniel, who called him her
brother (Narn p. 124), had not emerged. The happiness and prosperity
of the Woodmen under Turambar's chieftainship is much more strongly
emphasized in the tale (afterwards he was not indeed the chieftain, at
least not in name); and it leads in fact to Glorund's greed as a motive for
his assault on them.
The topographical indications in this passage, important to the narra-
tive, are readily enough accommodated to the later accounts, with one
major exception: it is clear that in the old story the stream of the waterfall
that fell down to the Silver Bowl was the same as that which ran through
the gorge where Turambar slew Glorund:
Here flowed that same stream that further down wound past the
dragon's lair [lair = the place where he was lying) in a deep bed cloven
deep into the earth (p. 105).
Thus Turambar and his companions, as he said,
will go down the rocks to the foot of the fall, and so gaining the path of
the stream perchance we may come as nigh to the drake as may be:
(ibid.).
In the final story, on the other hand, the falling stream (Celebros) was a
tributary of Teiglin; cf. the Narn p. 127:
Now the river Teiglin... flowed down from Ered Wethrin swift as
Narog, but at first between low shores, until after the Crossings,
gathering power from other streams, it clove a way through the feet of,
the highlands upon which stood the Forest of Brethil. Thereafter it ran
in deep ravines, whose great sides were like walls of rock, but pent at
the bottom the waters flowed with great force and noise. And right
in the path of Glaurung there lay now one of these gorges, by no means
the deepest, but the narrowest, just north of the inflow of Celebros.
The pleasant place ('a green sward where grew a wealth of flowers')
survived; cf. the Narn p. 123: 'There was a wide greensward at the
head of the falls, and birches grew about it.' So also did the 'Silver
Bowl', though the name was lost: 'the stream [Celebros] went over a
lip of worn stone, and fell down by many foaming steps into a rocky bowl
far below' (Narn, ibid.,- cf. the tale p. 105: it fell over a great fall where
the water-worn rock jutted smooth and grey from amid the grass'). The
'little hill' or 'knoll', 'islanded among the trees', from which Turambar
and his companions looked out is not so described in the Narn, but the
picture of a high place and lookout near the head of the falls remained, as
may be seen from the statement in the Narn (p. 123) that from Nen
Girith 'there was a wide view towards the ravines of Teiglin'; later (Narn
p. 128) it is said that it was Turambar's intention to 'ride to the high fall of
Nen Girith... whence he could look far across the lands'. It seems
certain, then, that the old image never faded, and was only a little
changed.
While in both old and late accounts a great concourse of the people
follow Turambar to the head of the falls against his bidding, in the late
his motive for commanding them not to come is explicit: they are to
remain in their homes and prepare for flight. Here on the other hand
Niniel rides with Turambar to the head of Silver Bowl and says farewell
to him there. But a detail of the old story survived: Turambar's words to
Niniel 'Nor thou nor I die this day, nor yet tomorrow, by the evil of the
dragon or by the foemen's swords' are closely paralleled by his words to
her in the Narn (p. 129): 'Neither you nor I shall be slain by this Dragon,
nor by any foe of the North', and in the one account Niniel 'quelled her
weeping and was very still', while in the other she 'ceased to weep and fell
silent'. The situation is generally simpler in the tale, in that the Woodmen
are scarcely characterised; Tamar is not as Brandir the titular head of the
people, and this motive for bitterness against Turambar is absent, nor is
there a Dorlas to insult him or a Hunthor to rebuke Dorlas. Tamar is
however present with Niniel at the same point in the story, having girded
himself with a sword: 'and many scoffed at him for that', just as it is
afterwards said of Brandir that he had seldom done so before (Narn
P. 132).
Turambar here set out from the head of the falls with six companions,
all of whom proved in the end fainthearted, whereas later he had only
two, Dorlas and Hunthor, and Hunthor remained staunch, though killed
by a falling stone in the gorge. But the result is the same, in that
Turambar must climb the further cliff of the gorge alone. Here the
dragon remained where he lay near the brink of the cliff all night,
and only moved with the dawn, so that his death and the events that
immediately followed it took place by daylight. But in other respects
the killing of the dragon remained even in many details much as it
Was originally written, more especially if comparison is made with the
Narn (p. 134), where there reappears the need for Turambar and his
companion(s) to move from their first station in order to come up directly
under the belly of the beast (this is passed over in The Silmarillion).
Two notable points in this section remain to be mentioned; both are
afterthoughts pencilled into the manuscript. In the one we meet for the
first time Mim the Dwarf as the captain of Glorund's guard over his
treasure during his absence -- a strange choice for the post, one would
think. On this matter see p. 137 below. In the other it is said that Niniel
conceived a child by Turambar, which, remarkably enough, is not said in
the text as originally written; on this see p. 135.
(x) The deaths of Turin and Nienori (pp. 108-12).
In the conclusion of the story the structure remained the same from the
old tale to the Narn: the moonlight, the tending of Turambar's burnt
hand, the cry of Niniel that stirred the dragon to his final malice, the
accusation by the dragon that Turambar was a stabber of foes unseen,
Turambar's naming Tamar/Brandir 'Club-foot' and sending him to
consort with the dragon in death, the sudden withering of the leaves
at the place of Nienor's leap as if it were already the end of autumn,
the invocation of Nienor to the waters and of Turambar to his sword, the
raising of Turin's mound and the inscription in 'strange signs' upon it.
Many other features could be added. But there are also many differences;
here I refer only to some of the most important.
Mablung being absent from the old story, it is only Turambar's
intuition ('being free now of blindness' -- the blindness that Melko
'wove of old', p. 83)* that informs him that Tamar was telling the
truth. The slaying of Glaurung and all its aftermath is in the late story
compassed in the course of a single night and the morning of the next
day, whereas in the tale it is spread over two nights, the intervening day,
and the morning of the second. Turambar is carried back to the people on
the hill-top by the three deserters who had left him in the ravine, whereas
in the late story he comes himself. (Of the slaying of Dorlas by Brandir
there is no trace in the tale, and the taking of a sword by Tamar has no
issue.)
Particularly interesting is the result of the changing of the place where
Turin and Nienori died. In the tale there is only one river, and Niniel
follows the stream up through the woods and casts herself over the falls of
Silver Bowl (in the place afterwards called Nen Girith), and here too, in
the glade above the falls, Turambar slew himself; in the developed story
her death-leap was into the ravine of Teiglin at Cabed-en-Aras, the
Deer's Leap, near the spot where Turambar lay beside Glaurung, and
here Turambar's death took place also. Thus Niniel's sense of dread
when she first came to Silver Bowl with the Woodmen who rescued her
(* Cf. his words to Mablung in the Narn, p. 144: 'For see, I am blind! Did you
not know?
Blind, blind, groping since childhood in a dark mist of Morgoth!')

(p. 101) foreboded her own death in that place, but in the changed story
there is less reason for a foreknowledge of evil to come upon her there.
But while the place was changed, the withering of the leaves remained,
and the awe of the scene of their deaths, so that none would go to
Cabed-en-Aras after, as they would not set foot on the grass above Silver
Bowl.
The most remarkable feature of the earliest version of the story of
Turambar and Niniel is surely that as my father first wrote it he did not
say that she had conceived a child by him (note 25); and thus there is
nothing in the old story.corresponding to Glaurung's words to her: 'But
the worst of all his deeds thou shalt feel in thyself' (Narn p. 138). The
fact that above all accounts for Nienor's utter horror and despair was
added to the tale later.
In concluding this long analysis of the Tale of Turambar proper the
absence of place-names in the later part of it may be remarked. The
dwelling of the Rodothlim is not named, nor the river that flowed past it;
no name is given to the forest where the Woodmen dwelt, to their village,
or even to the stream of such central importance at the end of the story
(contrast Nargothrond, Narog, Tumhalad, Amon Ethir, Brethil, Amon
Obel, Ephel Brandir, Teiglin, Celebros of the later narratives).
The further narrative of Eltas
(after the death of Turin).
My father struck out the greater part of this continuation, allowing it
to stand only as far as the words 'by reason of her great unhappiness' on
p. 113 (see note 31). From the brief passage that was retained it is seen
that the story of Morwen's coming to the stone on Turin's mound goes
back to the beginning, though in the later story she met Hurin there (The
Silmarillion, p. 229).
The rejected part continues as follows:
Yet it is said also that when the doom of his folk was utterly fulfilled
then was Urin released by Melko, and bowed with age he fared back
into the better lands. There did he gather some few to him, and they
went and found the caverns of the Rothwarin [earlier form for
Rodothlim, see p. 119] empty, and none guarded them, and a mighty
treasury lay there still for none had found it, in that the terror of the
drake lived longer than he and none had ventured thither again. But
Urin let bear the gold even before Linwe [i.e. Tinwelint], and casting
it before his feet bade him bitterly to take his vile reward, naming him a
craven by whose faint heart had much evil fallen to his house that
might never have been; and in this began a new estrangement between
Elves and Men, for Linwe was wroth at Urin's words and bid him
begone, for said he: "Long did I foster Turin thy son and forgave him



the evil of his deeds, and afterward thy wife I succoured, giving way
against my counsel to her wild desires. Yet what is it to me -- and
wherefore dost thou, 0 son of the uncouth race of Men, endure to
upbraid a king of the Eldalie, whose life began in Palisor ages uncounted
before Men were born?" And then Urin would have gone, but his men
were not willing to leave the gold there, and a dissension arose between
them and the Elves, and of this grew bitter blows, and Tintoglin [i.e.
Tinwelint] might not stay them.
There then was Urin's band slain in his halls, and they stained with
their blood the dragon's hoard; but Urin escaped and cursed that gold
with a dread curse so that none might enjoy it, and he that held any
part of it found evil and death to come of it. But Linwe hearing that
curse caused the gold to be cast into a deep pool of the river before his
doors, and not for very long did any see it again save for the Ring of
Doom [emended to: the Necklace of the Dwarves], and that tale
belongs not here, although therein did the evil of the worm Glorund
find its last fulfilment.
(The last phrase is an addition to the text.) The remainder of this
rejected narrative, concerning the final fates of Urin and Mavwin and
their children, is essentially the same as in the replacement text given on
p. 115 ('Then Urin departed...') and need not be given.
Immediately following the rejected narrative there is a short outline
headed 'Story of the Nauglafring or the Necklace of the Dwarves', and
this also was struck through. Here there is no mention of Urin at all, but
it is told that the Orcs (emended from Congs, see I. 245 note 10) who
guarded the treasury of Glorund went in search of him when he did not
come back to the caves, and in their absence Tintoglin (i.e. Tinwelint),
learning of Glorund's death, sent Elves to steal thehoard of the Rothwarin
(i.e. Rodothlim). The Orcs returning cursed the thieves, and they
cursed the gold also.
Linwe (i.e. Tinwelint) guarded the gold, and he had a great necklace
made by certain Uvanimor (Nautar or Nauglath). (Uvanimor have been
defined in an earlier tale as 'monsters, giants, and ogres', see I. 75, 236;
Nauglath are Dwarves, I. 236). In this Necklace the Silmaril was set;
but the curse of the gold was on him, and he defrauded them of part of
their reward. The Nauglath plotted, and got aid of Men; Linwe was slain
in a raid, and the gold carried away.
There follows another rejected outline, headed 'The Necklace of the
Dwarves', and this combines features of the preceding outline with
features of the rejected ending of Eltas' narrative (pp. 135 -- 6). Here Urin
gathers a band of Elves and Men who are wild and fierce, and they go to
the caves, which are lightly guarded because the 'Orqui' (i.e. Orcs) are
abroad seeking Glorund. They carry off the treasure, and the Orcs
returning curse it. Urin casts the treasure before the king and reproaches

him (saying that he might have sent a greater company to the caves to
secure the treasure, if not to aid Mavwin in her distress); 'Tintoglin
would not touch it and bid Urin hold what he had won, but Urin would
depart with bitter words'. Urin's men were not willing to leave it, and
they sneaked back; there was an affray in the king's halls, and much
blood was spilt on the gold. The outline concludes thus:
The Gongs sack Linwe's halls and Linwe is slain and the gold is carried
far away. Beren Ermabwed falls upon them at a crossing of Sirion and
the treasure is cast into the water, and with it the Silmaril of Feanor.
The Nauglath that dwell nigh dive after the gold but only one mighty
necklace of gold (and that Silmaril is on it) do they find. This becomes
a mark of their king.
These two outlines are partly concerned with the story of the
Nauglafring and show my father pondering that story before he wrote it;
there is no need to consider these elements here. It is evident that he was
in great doubt as to the further course of the story after the release of Urin
-- what happened to the dragon's hoard? Was it guarded or unguarded,
and if guarded by whom? How did it come at last into Tinwelint's hands?
Who cursed it, and at what point in the story? If it was Urin and his band
that seized it, were they Men or Elves or both?
In the final text, written on slips placed in the manuscript book and
given above pp. 113 -- 16, these questions were resolved thus: Urin's band
was at first Men, then changed to Elves (see note 33); the treasure was
guarded by the dwarf Mim, whom Urin slew, and it was he who cursed
the gold as he died; Urin's band became a baggage-train to carry the
treasure to Tinwelint in sacks and wooden boxes (and they got it
to the bridge before the king's door in the heart of the forest
without, apparently, any difficulty). In this text there is no hint of what
happened to the treasure after Urin's departure (because the Tale of the
Nauglafring begins at that point).
Subsequent to the writing of the Tale of Turambar proper, my father
inserted Mim into the text at an earlier point in the story (see pp. 1o3, 118
note 26), making him the captain of the guard appointed by Glorund to
watch the treasure in his absence; but whether this was written in before
or after the appearance of Mim at the end (pp. 113 -- 14) -- whether it
represents a different idea, or is an explanation of how Mim came to be
there -- I cannot say.
In The Silmarillion (pp. 230 --z) the story is wholly changed, in that
the treasure remained in Nargothrond, and Hurin after the slaying of
Mim (for a far better reason than that in the early narrative) brought
nothing from it to Doriath save the Necklace of the Dwarves.
Of the astonishing feature at the end of Eltas' narrative (pp. 115 -- 16)
of the 'deification' of Turin Turambar and Nienori (and the refusal of
the Gods of Death to open their doors to them) it must be said that

nowhere is there any explanation given- though in much later versions of
the mythology Turin Turambar appears in the Last Battle and smites
Morgoth with his black sword. The purifying bath into which Turin and
Nienori entered, called Fos'Almir in the final text, was in the rejected
text named Fauri; in the Tale of the Sun and Moon it has been
described (I. 187), but is there given other names: Tanyasalpe, Faskala-
numen, and Faskalan.
There remains one further scrap of text to be considered. The second
of the rejected outlines given above (pp. 136-7) was written in ink over a
pencilled outline that was not erased, and I have been able to disinter a
good deal of it from beneath the later writing. The two passages have
nothing to do with each other; for some reason my father did not trouble
in this case to erase earlier writing. The underlying text, so far as I can
make it out, reads:
Tiranne and Vainoni fall in with the evil magician Kuruki who gives
them a baneful drink. They forget their names and wander distraught
in the woods. Vainoni is lost. She meets Turambar who saves her from
Orcs and aids in her search for her mother. They are wed and live in
happiness. Turambar becomes lord of rangers of the woods and a
harrier of the Orcs. He goes to seek out the Foaloke which ravages his
land. The treasure-heap -- and flight of his band. He slays the Foaloke
and is wounded. Vainoni succours him, but the dragon in dying tells
her all, lifting the veil Kuruki has set over them. Anguish of Turambar
and Vainoni. She flees into the woods and casts herself over a waterfall.
Madness of Turambar who dwells alone.......... Urin escapes
from Angamandi and seeks Tiranne. Turambar flees from him and
falls upon his sword.......................... Urin builds a cairn
and............ doom of Melko. Tiranne dies of grief and Urin
reaches Hisilome...........................................
Purification of Turambar and Vainoni who fare shining about the
world and go with the hosts of Tulkas against Melko.
Detached jottings follow this, doubtless written at the same time:
Urin escapes. Tiranne learns of Turin. Both wander distraught... in
the wood.
Turin leaves Linwe for in a quarrel he slew one of Linwe's kin
(accidentally).
Introduce Failivrin element into the story?
Turambar unable to fight because of Foaloke's eyes. Sees Failivrin
depart.
This can only represent some of my father's very earliest meditations
on the story of Turin Turambar. (That it appears in the notebook at the

end of the fully-written Tale may seem surprising, but he clearly used
these books in a rather eccentric way.) Nienori is here called Vainoni,
and Mavwin Tiranne'; the spell of forgetfulness is here laid by a magician
named Kuruki, although it is the dragon who lifts the veil that the
magician set over them. Turin's two encounters with the dragon seem to
have emerged from an original single one.
As I have mentioned before, the Tale of Turambar, like others of the
Lost Tales, is written in ink over a wholly erased pencilled text, and
the extant form of the tale is such that it could only be derived from a
rougher draft preceding it; but the underlying text is so completely
erased that there is no clue as to what stage it had reached in the
development of the legend. It may well be -- I think it is extremely
probable -- that in this outline concerning Vainoni, Tiranne, and Kuruki
we glimpse by an odd chance a 'layer' in the Turin-saga older even than
the erased text underlying the extant version.
$3. Miscellaneous Matters.
(i) Beren.
The rejected passage given on p. 71, together with the marginal note 'If
Beren be a Gnome (as now in the story of Tinuviel) the references
to Beren must be altered' (note 4), is the basis for my assertion (p. 52)
that in the earliest, now lost, form of the Tale of Tinuvie! Beren was a
Man. I have shown, I hope, that the extant form of the Tale of Turambar
preceded the extant form of the Tale of Tinuviel (p. 6g). Beren was a
Man, and akin to Manwin, when the extant Turambar was written; he
became a Gnome in the extant Tinuviel; and this change was then
written into Turambar. What the replacement passage on p. 72 does
is to change the relation of Egnor and Beren from kinship with Urin's
wife to friendship with Urin. (A correction to the typescript version of
Tinuviel, p. 45, is later: making the comradeship of Urin with Beren
rather than with Egnor.) Two further changes to the text of Turambar
consequent on the change in Beren from Man to Elf are given in notes 5
and 6. -- It is interesting to observe that in the developed genealogy of The
Silmarillion, when Beren was of course again a Man, he was also again
akin to Morwen: for Beren was first cousin to Morwen's father Baragund.
In the rejected passage on p. 71 my father wrote against the name
Egnor 'Damrod the Gnome' (note 2), and in the amended passage he
wrote that Urin had known Beren 'and had rendered him a service once
in respect of Damrod his son'. There is no clue anywhere as to what this
service may have been; but in the second of the 'schemes' for The Book
of Lost Tales (see I. 233 -- 4) the outline for the Tale of the Nauglafring
refers to the son of Beren and Tinuviel, the father of Elwing, by the name
Daimord, although in the actual tale as written the son is as he was to
remain Dior. Presumably Daimord is to be equated with Damrod.



I cannot explain the insertion of 'Damrod the Gnome' against 'Egnor' in
the rejected passage -- possibly it was no more than a passing idea, to
give the name Damrod to Beren's father.
It may be noticed here that both the rejected and the replacement
passages make it very clear that the events of the story of Beren and
Tinuviel took place before the Battle of Unnumbered Tears; see
pp.65-6.
(ii) The Battle of Tasarinan.
It is said at the beginning of the present tale (p. 7o) that it 'tells of very
ancient days of that folk [Men] before the Battle of Tasarinan when first
Men entered the dark vales of Hisilome'.
On the face of it this offers an extreme contradiction, since it is said
many times that Men were shut in Hisilome at the time of the Battle of
Unnumbered Tears, and the Tale of Turambar takes place -- must take
place -- after that battle. The solution lies, however, in an ambiguity in
the sentence just cited. My father did not mean that this was a tale of Men
in ancient days of that folk before they entered Hisilome; he meant 'this is
a tale of the ancient days when Men first entered Hisilome -- long before
the Battle of Tasarinan'.
Tasarinan is the Land of Willows, Nan-tathren in TheSilmarillion;
the early word-lists or dictionaries give the 'Elvish' form tasarin 'willow'
and the Gnomish tathrin.* The Battle of Tasarinan took place long after,
in the course of the great expedition from Valinor for the release of the
enslaved Noldoli in the Great Lands. See pp. 219 -- 2o.
(iii) The geography of the Tale of Turambar.
The passage describing the route of the Orcs who captured Turin (p. 77)
seems to give further support to the idea that 'the mountains fencing
Hisilome from the Lands Beyond were continuous with those above
Angband' (p. 6z); for it is said here that the Orcs 'followed ever the
line of dark hills toward those regions where they rise high and gloomy
and their heads are shrouded in black vapours', and 'there are they
called Angorodin or the Iron Mountains, for beneath the roots of their
northernmost fastnesses lies Angband'.
The site of the caves of the Rodothlim, agreeing well with what is said
later of Nargothrond, has been discussed already (p. 123), as has the
topography of the Silver Bowl and the ravine in which Turambar slew
Glorund, in relation to the later Teiglin, Celebros, and Nen Girith
(pp. 132-3). There are in addition some indications in the tale of how the
caves of the Rodothlim related to Tinwelint's kingdom and to the land
(* Tasarinan survived as the Quenya name without change: 'the willow-meads
of
Tasarinan' in Treebeard's song in The Two Towers, III.y.)

where the Woodmen dwelt. It is said (p. 95) that 'the dwellings of the
Rodothlim were not utterly distant from the realm of Tinwelint, albeit
far enough'; while the Woodmen dwelt 'in lands that were not utterly
far from Sirion or the grassy hills of that river's middle course'
(p. 91), which may be taken to agree tolerably with the situation of the
Forest of Brethil. The region where they lived is said in the same passage
to have been 'very far away many a journey beyond the river of the
Rodothlim', and Glorund's wrath was great when he heard of 'a brave
folk of Men that dwelt far beyond the river' (p. 103); this also can be
accommodated quite well to the developed geographical conception --
Brethil was indeed a good distance beyond the river (Narog) for one
setting out from Nargothrond.
My strong impression is that though the geography of the west of the
Great Lands may have been still fairly vague, it already had, in many
important respects, the same essential structure and relations as those
seen on the map accompanying The Silmarillion.
(iv) The influence of the Valar.
As in the Tale of Tinuviel (see p. 68), in the Tale of Turambar also there
are several references to the power of the Valar in the affairs of Men and
Elves in the Great Lands -- and to prayers, both of thanksgiving and
request, addressed to them: thus Turin's guardians 'thanked the Valar'
that they accomplished the journey to Artanor (p. 72), and more remark-
ably, Urin 'called upon the Valar of the West, being taught much
concerning them by the Eldar of Kor -- the Gnomes he had encountered --
and his words came, who shall say how, to Manwe Sulimo upon the
heights of Taniquetil'(p. 77). (Urin was already an 'Elf-friend', instructed
by the Noldoli; cf. the replacement passage on p. 72.) Was his prayer
'answered'? Possibly this is the meaning of the very strange expression 'as
the luck of the Valar had it' (p. 79), when Flinding and Beleg found
Turin lying near the point where they entered the Orc-camp.*
Dreams sent by the Valar came to the chieftains of the Rodothtim,
though this was changed later and the reference to the Valar removed
(p. 83 and note 10); the Woodmen said 'Would that the Valar would lift
the spell that lies upon Niniel' (p. 101); and Turin 'cried out bitterly
against the Valar and his fate of woe' (p. 111).
An interesting reference to the Valar (and their power) occurs in
Tinwelint's reply (p. 95) to Mavwin's words 'Give me but a woodman's
cot and my son'. The king said: 'That I cannot, for I am but a king of the
wild Elves, and no Vala of the westernisles.' In the small part of
Gilfanon's Tale that was actually written it is told (I. 231) of the Dark
Elves who remained in Palisor that they said that 'their brethren had gone

(*The Gnomish dictionary has the entry: gwalt 'good luck -- any providential
occurrence
or through: "the luck of the Valar", i-walt ne Vanion' (I.272). )

westward to the Shining Isles. There, said they, do the Gods dwell, and
they called them the Great Folk of the West, and thought they dwelt on
firelit islands in the sea.'
(v) Turin's age.
According to the Tale of Turambar, when Turin left Mavwin he was
seven years old, and it was after he had dwelt among the woodland Elves
for seven years that all tidings from his home ceased (p. 74); in the Narn
the corresponding years are eight and nine, and Turin was seventeen, not
fourteen, when 'his grief was renewed' (pp. 68, 76 -- 7). It was exactly
twelve years to the day of his departure from Mavwin when he slew Orgof
and fled from Artanor (p. 75), when he was nineteen; in the Narn (p. 79)
it was likewise twelve years since he left Hithlum when he hunted Saeros
to his death, but he was twenty.
'The tale tells not the number of days that Turambar sojourned with
the Rodothlim but these were very many, and during that time Nienori
grew to the threshold of womanhood'(pp. 91-- z). Nienori was seven years
younger than Turin: she was twelve when he fled from Artanor (ibid.).
He cannot then have dwelt among the Rodothlim for more than (say) five
or six years; and it is said that when he was chosen chieftain of the
Woodmen he possessed 'wisdom great beyond his years'.
Bethos, chieftain of the Woodmen before Turin, 'had fought though
then but a boy in the Battle of Unnumbered Tears' (p. 101), but he was
killed in a foray, since 'despite his years he still rode abroad'. But
it is impossible to relate Bethos' span (from 'a boy' at the Battle of
Unnumbered Tears to his death on a foray at an age sufficiently ripe
to be remarked on) to Turin's; for the events after the destruction
of the Rodothlim, culminating in Turin's rescue of Niniel after her first
encounter with Glorund, cannot cover any great length of time. What is
clear and certain is that in the old story Turin died when still a very young
man. According to the precise dating provided in much later writing, he
was 35 years old at his death.
(vi) The stature of Elves and Men.
The Elves are conceived to be of slighter build and stature than Men: so
Beleg 'was of great stature and girth as such was among that folk'
(p. 73), and Turin 'was a Man and of greater stature than they', i.e. Beleg
and Flinding (p. 8o) -- this sentence being an emendation from 'he was a
Man of great size' (note 8). See on this matter I. 32, 235.
(vii) Winged Dragons.
At the end of The Silmarillion (p. 252) Morgoth 'loosed upon his foes the
last desperate assault that he had prepared, and out of the pits of
Angband there issued the winged dragons, that had not before been
seen'. The suggestion is that winged dragons were a refinement of
Morgoth's original design (embodied in Glaurung, Father of Dragons
who went upon his belly). According to the Tale of Turambar (pp. g6 -- 7),
on the other hand, among Melko's many dragons some were smaller, cold
like snakes, and of these many were flying creatures; while others, the
mightier, were hot and heavy, fire-dragons, and these were unwinged.
As already noted (p. 125) there is no suggestion in the tale that Glorund
was the first of his kind.
III.
THE FALL OF GONDOLIN.
At the end of Eltas' account of Urin's visit to Tinwelint and of the
strange fates of Urin and Mavwin, Turin and Nienori (p. 116), the
manuscript written on loose sheets in fact continues with a brief interlude
in which the further course of the tale-telling is discussed in Mar Vanwa
Tyalieva.
And so saying Eltas made an end, and none asked further. But
Lindo bid all thank him for his tale, and thereto he said: 'Nay, if
you will, there is much yet to tell concerning the gold of Glorund,
and how the evil of that worm found its last fulfilment -- but
behold, that is the story of the Nauglafring or the Necklace of the
Dwarves and must wait a while -- and other stories of lighter and
more happy things I have to tell if you would liefer listen to them.'
Then arose many voices begging Eltas to tell the tale of the
Nauglafring on the morrow, but he said: 'Nay! For who here
knows the full tale of Tuor and the coming of Earendel, or who
was Beren Ermabwed, and what were his deeds, for such things is
it better to know rightly first.' And all said that Beren Ermabwed
they knew well, but of the coming of Earendel little enough had
ever been told.
'And great harm is that,' said Lindo, 'for it is the greatest of the
stories of the Gnomes, and even in this house is Ilfiniol son of
Bronweg, who knows those deeds more truly than any that are
now on Earth.'
About that time Ilfiniol the Gong-warden entered indeed, and
Lindo said to him: 'Behold, 0 Littleheart son of Bronweg, it is the
desire of all that you tell us the tales of Tuor and of Earendel as
soon as may be.' And Ilfiniol was fain of that, but said he: 'It is a
mighty tale, and seven times shall folk fare to the Tale-fire ere it be
rightly told; and so twined is it with those stories of the Nauglafring
and of the Elf-march' that I would fain have aid in that telling of
Ailios here and of Meril the Lady of the Isle, for long is it since she
sought this house.'
Therefore were messengers sent on the next day to the korin' of
high elms, and they said that Lindo and Vaire would fain see the

face of their lady among them, for they purposed to make a festival
and to hold a great telling of Elfin tales, ere Eriol their guest
 fared awhile to Tavrobel. So was it that for three days that room
heard no more tales and the folk of Vanwa Tyalieva made great
preparations, but on the fourth night Meril fared there amid her
company of maidens, and full of light and mirth was that place;
but after the evening meat a great host sat before Ton a Gwedrin,
 and the maidens of Meril sang the most beautiful songs that island
knew.'
And of those one did afterward Heorrenda turn to the language
 of his folk, and it is thus.'
But when those songs had fallen into silence then said Meril,
who sate in the chair of Lindo: 'Come now, 0 Ilfiniol, begin thou
the talc of tales, and tell it more fully than thou hast ever done.'
Then said Littleheart son of Bronweg... (Tale of Gondolin).
 [sic]
This then is the Link between the Tale of Turambar and The Fall of
 Gondolin (an earlier 'preface' to the tale is given below). It seems that
my father hesitated as to which tale was to follow Turambar (see note 4),
but decided that it was time to introduce The Fall of Condolin, which
had been in existence for some time.
In this Link, Ailios (later Gilfanon) is present ('I would fain have
aid... of Ailios here') at the end of Eltas' tale of Turambar, but at the
 beginning of Eltas' tale (p. 7o) it is expressly said that he was not present
that night. On the proposal that Eriol should 'fare awhile' to Tavrobel (as
 the guest of Gilfanon) see I. 175.
The fact that Eltas speaks of the tale of Beren Ermabwed as if he did
not know that it had only recently been told in Mar Vanwa Tyalieva is no
 doubt to be explained by that tale not having been told before the
Tale-fire (see pp. 4--7).
The teller of the tale of The Fall of Condolin, Littleheart the
Gong-warden of Mar Vanwa Tyalieva, has appeared several times in
the Last Tales, and his Elvish name(s) have many different forms
 (see under Changes made to names at the end of the text of the
tale). In The Cottage of Lost Play he is said (I. 15) to be 'ancient beyond
 count', and to have 'sailed in Wingilot with Earendel in that last voyage
 wherein they sought for Kor'; and in the Link to The Music of the Ainur
(I. 46) he 'had a weather-worn face and blue eyes of great merriment, and
was very slender and small, nor might one say if he were fifty or ten
thousand'. He is a Gnome, the son of Bronweg/Voronwe (Voronwe of
The Silmarillion) (I. 48, 94).

The texts of 'The Fall of Gondolin '.
The textual history of The Fall of Gondolin, if considered in detail, is
extremely complex; but though I will set it out here, as I understand it,
there is no need in fact for it to complicate the reading of the tale.
In the first place, there is a very difficult manuscript contained in two
school exercise-books, where the title of the tale is Tuor and the Exiles
of Condolin (which bringeth in the great tale of Earendel). (This is
the only title actually found in the early texts, but my father always later
referred to it as The Fall of Gondolin.) This manuscript is (or rather,
was) the original text of the tale, dating from 1916 -- 17 (see I. 203 and
Unfinished Tales p. 4), and I will call it here for convenience Tuor A.
My father's treatment of it subsequently was unlike that of Tinuviel and
Turambar (where the original text was erased and a new version written
in its place); in this tale he did not set down a complete new text, but
allowed a good deal of the old to stand, at least in the earlier part of it: as
the revision progressed the rewriting in ink over the top of the pencilled
text did become almost continuous, and though the pencil was not erased
the ink effectively obliterates it. But even after the second version
becomes continuous there are several places where the old narrative was
not over-written but merely struck through, and remains legible. Thus,
while Tuor A is on the same footing as Tinuviel and Turambar (and
others of the Lost Tales) in that it is a later revision, a second version, my
father's method in Condolin allows it to be seen that here at least the
revision was by no means a complete recasting (still less a re-imagining);
for if those passages in the later parts of the tale which can still be
compared in the two versions shew that he was following the old fairly
closely, the same is quite probably true in those places where no com-
parison can be made.
From Tuor A, as it was when all changes had been made to it (i.e.
when it was in the form that it has now), my mother made a fair copy
(Tuor B), which considering the difficulty of the original is extremely
exact, with only very occasional errors of transcription. I have said in
Unfinished Tales (p. 5) that this copy was made 'apparently in 19 I 7, but
this now seems to me improbable.* Such conceptions as the Music of the
Ainur, which is referred to by later addition in Tuor A (p. 163), may of
course have been in my father's mind a good while before he wrote that
tale in Oxford while working on the Dictionary (I. 45), but it seems more
likely that the revision of Tuor A (and therefore also Tuor B copied from
it after its revision) belongs to that period also.
Subsequently my father took his pencil to Tuor B, emending it fairly
heavily, though mostly in the earlier part of the tale, and almost entirely
 (* Humphrey Carpenter in his Biography (p. gz) says that the tale 'was written
out
during Tolkien's convalescence at Great Haywood early in 1917', but he is
doubtless
referring to the original pencilled text of Tuor A.)



for stylistic rather than narrative reasons; but these emendations, as will
be seen, were not all made at the same time. Some of them are written out
on separate slips, and of these several have on their reverse sides parts of
an etymological discussion of certain Germanic words for the Butcher-
bird or Shrike, material which appears in the Oxford Dictionary in the
entry Wariangle. Taken with the fact that one of the slips with this
material on the reverse clearly contains a direction for the shortening of
the tale when delivered orally (see note 21), it is virtually certain that a
good deal of the revision of Tuor 8 was made before my father read it to
. the Essay Club of Exeter College in the spring of 1920 (see Unfinished
Tales p. 5).
That not all the emendations to Tuor B were made at the same time is
shown by the existence of a typescript (Tuor C), without title, which
extends only so far as 'your hill of vigilance against the evil of Melko'
(p. 161). This was taken from Tuor B when some changes had been made
to it, but not those which I deduce to have been made before the occasion
when it was read aloud. An odd feature of this text is that blanks were left
for many of the names, and only some were filled in afterwards. Towards
the end of it there is a good deal of independent variation from Tuor 8,
but it is all of a minor character and none has narrative significance. I
conclude that this was a side-branch that petered out.
The textual history can then be represented thus:
Tuor A (original 1916-17 text in pencil)
heavily revised and in the later parts entirely overwritten
Tuor B (fair copy)
minor stylistic revisions (and changes to names)
Tuor C (typescript; does not
extend far; minor stylistic
changes)
further alterations mainly on inserted
slips (and further changes to names)
before reading it at Exeter College in
1920
(the text in this book).
Since the narrative itself underwent very little change of note in the
course of this history (granted that substantial parts of the original text
Tuor A are almost entirely illegible), the text that follows here is that of
Tuor B in its final form, with some interesting earlier readings given in
the Notes. It seems that my father did not check the fair copy Tuor B
against the original, and did not in every case pick up the errors of

transcription it contains; when he did, he emended them anew, according
to the sense, and not by reference back to Tuor A. In a very few cases I
have gone back to Tuor A where this is clearly correct (as 'a wall of water
rose nigh to the cliff-top', p. 151, where Tuor 8 and the typescript Tuor C
have 'high to the cliff-top').
Throughout the typescript Tuor is called Tur. In Tuor B the name is
sometimes emended from Tuor to Tur in the earlier part of the tale (it
appears as Tur in the latest revisions), but by no means in every case. My
father apparently decided to change the name but ultimately decided
against it; and I give Tuor throughout.
An interesting document accompanies the Tale: this is a substantial
though incomplete list of names (with explanations) that occur in it,
now in places difficult or impossible to read. The names are given in
alphabetical order but go only as far as L. Linguistic information from
this list is incorporated in the' Appendix on Names, but the head-note to
the list may be cited here:
Here is set forth by Eriol at the teaching of Bronweg's son Elfrith
[emended from Elfriniel] or Littleheart (and he was so named for the
youth and wonder of his heart) those names and words that are used in
these tales from either the tongue of the Elves of Kor as at that time
spoken in the Lonely Isle, or from that related one of the Noldoli their
kin whom they wrested from Melko.
Here first are they which appear in The Tale of Tuor and the Exiles
of Gondolin, first among these those ones in the Gnome-speech.
In Tuor A appear two versions (one struck out) of a short 'preface' to
the tale by Littleheart which does not appear in Tuor B. The second
version reads:
Then said Littleheart son of Bronweg: 'Now the story that I tell is of
the Noldoli, who were my father's folk, and belike the names will ring
strange in your ears and familiar folk be called by names not before
heard, for the Noldoli speak a curious tongue sweet still to my ears
though not maybe to all the Eldar. Wise folk see it as close kin to
Eldarissa, but it soundeth not so, and I know nought of such lore.
Wherefore will I utter to you the right Eldar names where there be
such, but in many cases there be none.
Know then,' said he, 'that
The earlier version (headed 'Link between Tuor and tale before') begins
in the same way but then diverges:
... and it is sweet to my ears still, though lest it be not so to all else of
Eldar and Men here gathered I will use no more of it than I must, and
that is in the names of those folk and things whereof the tale tells but



for which, seeing they passed away ere ever the rest of the Eldar came
from Kor, the Elves have no true names. Know then,' said he, 'that
Tuor
This 'preface' thus connects to the opening of the tale. There here
appears, in the second version, the name Eldarissa for the language of
the Eldar or Elves, as opposed to Noldorissa (a term found in the
Name-list); on the distinction involved see I.5o -- 1. With Littleheart's
words here compare what Rumil said to Eriol about him (I.48):
' "Tongues and speeches," they will say, "one is enough for me" -- and
thus said Littleheart the Gong-warden once upon a time: "Gnome-
speech," said he, "is enough for me -- did not that one Earendel and
Tuor and Bronweg my father (that mincingly ye miscall Voronwe)
speak it and no other?" Yet he had to learn the Elfin in the end, or be
doomed either to silence or to leave Mar Vanwa Tyalieva...'
After these lengthy preliminaries I give the text of the Tale.
Tuor and the Exiles of Gondolin
(which bringeth in the great tale of Earendel)
Then said Littleheart son of Bronweg: 'Know then that Tuor
was a man who dwelt in very ancient days in that land of the North
called Dor Lomin or the Land of Shadows, and of the Eldar the
Noldoli know it best.
Now the folk whence Tuor came wandered the forests and fells
and knew not and sang not of the sea; but Tuor dwelt not with
them, and lived alone about that lake called Mithrim, now hunting
in its woods, now making music beside its shores on his rugged
harp of wood and the sinews of bears. Now many hearing of the
power of his rough songs came from near and far to hearken to his
harping, but Tuor left his singing and departed to lonely places.
Here he learnt many strange things and got knowledge of the
wandering Noldoli, who taught him much of their speech and
lore; but he was not fated to dwell for ever in those woods.
Thereafter 'tis said that magic and destiny led him on a day
to a cavernous opening down which a hidden river flowed from
Mithrim. And Tuor entered that cavern seeking to learn its secret,
but the waters of Mithrim drove him forward into the heart of the

rock and he might not win back into the light. And this, 'tis said,
was the will of Ulmo Lord of Waters at whose prompting the
Noldoli had made that hidden way.
Then came the Noldoli to Tuor and guided him along dark
passages amid the mountains until he came out in the light once
more, and saw that the river flowed swiftly in a ravine of great
depth with sides unscalable. Now Tuor desired no more to return
but went ever forward, and the river led him always toward the
west.'
The sun rose behind his back and set before his face, and where
the water foamed among many boulders or fell over falls there
were at times rainbows woven across the ravine, but at evening its
smooth sides would glow in the setting sun, and for these reasons
Tuor called it Golden Cleft or the Gully of the Rainbow Roof,
which is in the speech of the Gnomes Glorfalc or Cris Ilbranteloth.
Now Tuor journeyed here for three days,' drinking the waters of
the secret river and feeding on its fish; and these were of gold and
blue and silver and of many wondrous shapes. At length the ravine
widened, and ever as it opened its sides became lower and more
rough, and the bed of the river more impeded with boulders
against which the waters foamed and spouted. Long times would
Tuor sit and gaze at the splashing water and listen to its voice, and
then he would rise and leap onward from stone to stone singing as
he went; or as the stars came out in the narrow strip of heaven
above the gully he would raise echoes to answer the fierce twanging
of his harp.
One day after a great journey of weary going Tuor at deep
evening heard a cry, and he might not decide of what creature it
came. Now he said: "It is a fay-creature", now, "Nay, 'tis but
some small beast that waileth among the rocks"; or again it seemed
to him that an unknown bird piped with a voice new to his ears and
strangely sad -- and because he had not heard the voice of any bird
in all his wandering down Golden Cleft he was glad of the sound
although it was mournful. On the next day at an hour of the
morning he heard the same cry above his head, and looking up
beheld three great white birds beating back up the gully on strong
wing, and uttering cries like to the ones he had heard amid the
dusk. Now these were the gulls, the birds of Osse.'
In this part of that riverway there were islets of rock amid the
currents, and fallen rocks fringed with white sand at the gully-
side, so that it was ill-going, and seeking a while Tuor found a spot
where he might with labour scale the cliffs at last. Then came a


fresh wind against his face, and he said: "This is very good and like
the drinking of wine," but he knew not that he was near the
confines of the Great Sea.
As he went along above the waters that ravine again drew
together and the walls towered up, so that he fared on a high
cliff-top, and there came a narrow neck, and this was full of noise.
Then Tuor looking downward saw the greatest of marvels, for it
seemed that a flood of angry water would come up the narrows and
flow back against the river to its source, but that water which had
 come down from distant Mithrim would still press on, and a wall
of water rose nigh to the cliff-top, and it was crowned with foam
and twisted by the winds. Then the waters of Mithrim were
overthrown and the incoming flood swept roaring up the channel
and whelmed the rocky islets and churned the white sand -- so that
Tuor fled and was afraid, who did not know the ways of the sea;
but the Ainur put it into his heart to climb from the gully when he
 did, or had he been whelmed in the incoming tide, and that was a
 fierce one by reason of a wind from the west. Then Tuor found
himself in a rugged country bare of trees, and swept by a wind
coming from the set of the sun, and all the shrubs and bushes
 leaned to the dawn because of that prevalence of that wind. And
 here for a while he wandered till he came to the black cliffs by the
 sea and saw the ocean and its waves for the first time, and at that
 hour the sun sank beyond the rim of Earth far out to sea, and he
stood on the cliff-top with outspread arms, and his heart was filled
 with a longing very great indeed. Now some say that he was the
 first of Men to reach the Sea and look upon it and know the desire
it brings; but I know not if they say well.
In those regions he set up his abode, dwelling in a cove sheltered
by great sable rocks, whose floor was of white sand, save when the
high flood partly overspread it with blue water; nor did foam or
froth come there save at times of the direst tempest. There long he
sojourned alone and roamed about the shore or fared over the
rocks at the ebb, marvelling at the pools and the great weeds, the
dripping caverns and the strange sea-fowl that he saw and came to
know; but the rise and fall of the water and the voice of the waves
was ever to him the greatest wonder and ever did it seem a new and
 unimaginable thing.
Now on the quiet waters of Mithrim over which the voice of the
duck or moorhen would carry far he had fared much in a small
boat with a prow fashioned like to the neck of a swan, and this
he had lost on the day of his finding the hidden river. On the sea he


adventured not as yet, though his heart was ever egging him with a
strange longing thereto, and on quiet evenings when the sun went,
down beyond the edge of the sea it grew to a fierce desire.
Timber he had that came down the hidden river; a goodly wood
it was, for the Noldoli hewed it in the forests of Dor Lomin and
floated it to him of a purpose. But he built not as yet aught save a
dwelling in a sheltered place of his cove, which tales among the
Eldar since name Falasquil. This by slow labour he adorned with
fair carvings of the beasts and trees and flowers and birds that he
knew about the waters of Mithrim, and ever among them was the
Swan the chief, for Tuor loved this emblem and it became the sign
of himself, his kindred and folk thereafter. There he passed a very
great while until the loneliness of the empty sea got into his heart,
and even Tuor the solitary longed for the voice of Men. Herewith
the Ainur' had something to do: for Ulmo loved Tuor.
One morning while casting his eye along the shore -- and it was
then the latest days of summer -- Tuor saw three swans flying high
and strong from the northward. Now these birds he had not before
seen in these regions, and he took them for a sign, and said: "Long
has my heart been set on a journey far from here; lo! now at length
I will follow these swans." Behold, the swans dropped into the
water of his cove and there swimming thrice about rose again and
winged slowly south along the coast, and Tuor bearing his harp
and spear followed them.
'Twas a great day's journey Tuor put behind him that day; and
he came ere evening to a region where trees again appeared, and
the manner of the land through which he now fared differed
greatly from those shores about Falasquil. There had Tuor known
mighty cliffs beset with caverns and great spoutholes, and deep-
walled coves, but from the cliff-tops a rugged land and flat ran
bleakly back to where a blue rim far to the east spake of distant
hills. Now however did he see a long and sloping shore and
stretches of sand, while the distant hills marched ever nearer to the
margin of the sea, and their dark slopes were clad with pine or fir
and about their feet sprang birches and ancient oaks. From the
feet of the hills fresh torrents rushed down narrow chasms and so
found the shores and the salt waves. Now some of these clefts
Tuor might not overleap, and often was it ill-going in these places,
but still he laboured on, for the swans fared ever before him, now
circling suddenly, now speeding forward, but never coming to
earth, and the rush of their strong-beating wings encouraged him.
'Tis told that in this manner Tuor fared onward for a great


number of days, and that winter marched from the north some-
what speedier than he for all his tirelessness. Nevertheless came he
 without scathe of beast or weather at a time of first spring to a river
mouth. Now here was the land less northerly and more kindly
 than about the issuing of Golden Cleft, and moreover by a trend of
 the coast was the sea now rather to the south of him than to the
 west, as he could mark by the sun and stars; but he had kept his
," right hand always to the sea.
This river flowed down a goodly channel and on its banks were
 rich lands: grasses and moist meadow to the one side and tree-
 grown slopes of the other; its waters met the sea sluggishly and
 fought not as the waters of Mithrim in the north. Long tongues of
 land lay islanded in its course covered with reeds and bushy
thicket, until further to seaward sandy spits ran out; and these
were places beloved by such a multitude of birds as Tuor had
nowhere yet encountered. Their piping and wailing and whistling
 filled the air; and here amid their white wings Tuor lost sight of
the three swans, nor saw he them again.
Then did Tuor grow for a season weary of the sea, for the
buffeting of his travel had been sore. Nor was this without Ulmo's
devising, and that night the Noldoli came to him and he arose
from sleep. Guided by their blue lanterns he found a way beside
the river border, and strode so mightily inland that when dawn
filled the sky to his right hand lo! the sea and its voice were far
 behind him, and the wind came from before him so that its odour
was not even in the air. Thus came he soon to that region that has
 been called Arlisgion "the place of reeds", and this is in those lands
that are to the south of Dor Lomin and separated therefrom by the
Iron Mountains whose spurs run even to the sea. From those
 mountains came this river, and of a great clearness and marvellous
 chill were its waters even at this place. Now this is a river most
 famous in the histories of Eldar and Noldoli and in all tongues is it
 named Sirion. Here Tuor rested awhile until driven by desire he
arose once ore to journey further and further by many days'
marches along the river borders. Full spring had not yet brought
 summer when he came to a region yet more lovely. Here the song
of small birds shrilled about him with a music of loveliness, for
there are no birds that sing like the songbirds of the Land of
Willows; and to this region of wonder he had now come. Here the
river wound in wide curves with low banks through a great plain of
the sweetest grass and very long and green; willows of untold age
were about its borders, and its wide bosom was strewn with

waterlily leaves, whose flowers were not yet in the earliness of the
year, but beneath the willows the green swords of the flaglilies
were drawn, and sedges stood, and reeds in embattled array. Now
there dwelt in these dark places a spirit of whispers, and it
whispered to Tuor at dusk and he was loth to depart; and at morn
for the glory of the unnumbered buttercups he was yet more loth,
and he tarried.
Here saw he the first butterflies and was glad of the sight; and it
is said that all butterflies and their kindred were born in the valley
of the Land of Willows. Then came the summer and the time of
moths and the warm evenings, and Tuor wondered at the multi-
tude of flies, at their buzzing and the droning of the beetles and the
hum of bees; and to all these things he gave names of his own, and
wove the names into new songs on his old harp; and these songs
were softer than his singing of old.
Then Ulmo grew in dread lest Tuor dwell for ever here and the
great things of his design come not to fulfilment. Therefore he
feared longer to trust Tuor's guidance to the Noldoli alone, who
did service to him in secret, and out of fear of Melko wavered
much. Nor were they strong against the magic of that place of
willows, for very great was its enchantment. Did not even after the
days of Tuor Noldorin and his Eldar come there seeking for Dor
Lomin and the hidden river and the caverns of the Gnomes' .
imprisonment; yet thus nigh to their quest's end were like to
abandon it? Indeed sleeping and dancing here, and making fair
music of river sounds and the murmur of grass, and weaving rich
fabrics of gossamer and the feathers of winged insects, they were
whelmed by the goblins sped by Melko from the Hills of Iron and
Noldorin made bare escape thence. But these things were not as
yet.
Behold now Ulmo leapt upon his car before the doorway of his
palace below the still waters of the Outer Sea; and his car was
drawn by narwhal and sealion and was in fashion like a whale; and
amidst the sounding of great conches he sped from Ulmonan. So
great was the speed of his going that in days, and not in years
without count as might be thought, he reached the mouth of the
river. Up this his car might not fare without hurt to its water and
its banks; therefore Ulmo, loving all rivers and this one more than
most, went thence on foot, robed to the middle in mail like the
scales of blue and silver fishes; but his hair was a bluish silver and
his beard to his feet was of the same hue, and he bore neither helm
nor crown. Beneath his mail fell the skirts of his kirtle of shimmer-

ing greens, and of what substance these were woven is not known,
but whoso looked into the depths of their subtle colours seemed to
behold the faint movements of deep waters shot with the stealthy
lights of phosphorescent fish that live in the abyss. Girt was he
with a rope of mighty pearls, and he was shod with mighty shoes of
stone.
Thither he bore too his great instrument of music; and this was
of strange design, for it was made of many long twisted shells
pierced with holes. Blowing therein and playing with his long
fingers he made deep melodies of a magic greater than any other
among musicians hath ever compassed on harp or lute, on lyre or
pipe, or instruments of the bow. Then coming along the river he
sate among the reeds at twilight and played upon his thing of
shells; and it was nigh to those places where Tuor tarried. And
Tuor hearkened and was,stricken dumb. There he stood knee-
deep in the grass and heard no more the hum of insects, nor the
murmur of the river borders, and the odour of flowers entered not
into his nostrils; but he heard the sound of waves and the wail of
sea-birds, and his soul leapt for rocky places and the ledges that
reek of fish, for the splash of the diving cormorant and those places
where the sea bores into the black cliffs and yells aloud.
Then Ulmo arose and spake to him and for dread he came near
to death, for the depth of the voice of Ulmo is of the uttermost
depth: even as deep as his eyes which are the deepest of all things.
And Ulmo said: "O Tuor of the lonely heart, I will not that thou
dwell for ever in fair places of birds and flowers; nor would I lead
thee through this pleasant land, o but that so it must be. But fare
now on thy destined journey and tarry not, for far from hence is
thy weird set. Now must thou seek through the lands for the city of
the folk called Gondothlim or the dwellers in stone, and the
Noldoli shall escort thee thither in secret for fear of the spies of
Melko. Words I will set to your mouth there, and there you shall
abide awhile. Yet maybe thy life shall turn again to the mighty
waters; and of a surety a child shall come of thee than whom no
 man shall know more of the uttermost deeps, be it of the sea or of
the firmament of heaven." Then spake Ulmo also to Tuor some of
his design and desire, but thereof Tuor understood little at that
 time and feared greatly.
Then Ulmo was wrapped in a mist as it were of sea air in those
inland places, and Tuor, with that music in his ears, would fain
return to the regions of the Great Sea; yet remembering his
bidding turned and went inland along the river, and so fared till

day. Yet he that has heard the conches of Ulmo hears them call
him till death, and so did Tuor find.
When day came he was weary and slept till it was nigh dusk
again, and the Noldoli came to him and guided him. So fared he
many days by dusk and dark and slept by day, and because of this
it came afterwards that he remembered not over well the paths
that he traversed in those times. Now Tuor and his guides held on
untiring, and the land became one of rolling hills and the river
wound about their feet, and there were many dales of exceeding
pleasantness; but here the Noldoli became ill at ease. "These,"
said they, "are the confines of those regions which Melko infesteth
with his Goblins, the people of hate. Far to the north -- yet alas
not far enough, would they were ten thousand leagues -- lie the
Mountains of Iron where sits the power and terror of Melko,
whose thralls we are. Indeed in this guiding of thee we do in secret
from him, and did he know all our purposes the torment of the
Balrogs would be ours."
Falling then into such fear the Noldoli soon after left him and he
fared alone amid the hills, and their going proved ill afterwards,
for "Melko has many eyes", 'tis said, and while Tuor fared with
the Gnomes they took him twilight ways and by many secret
tunnels through the hills. But now he became lost, and climbed
often to the tops of knolls and hills scanning the lands about. Yet
he might not see signs of any dwelling of folk, and indeed the city
of the Gondothlim was not found with ease, seeing that Melko and
his spies had not even yet discovered it. 'Tis said nonetheless that
at this time those spies got wind thus that the strange foot of Man
had been set in those lands, and that for that Melko doubled his
craft and watchfulness.
Now when the Gnomes out of fear deserted Tuor, one Voronwe
or Bronweg followed afar off despite his fear, when chiding availed
not to enhearten the others. Now Tuor had fallen into a great
weariness and was sitting beside the rushing stream, and the
sea-longing was about his heart, and he was minded once more to
follow this river back to the wide waters and the roaring waves.
But this Voronwe the faithful came up with him again, and
standing by his ear said: "0 Tuor, think not but that thou shalt
again one day see thy desire; arise now, and behold, I will not
leave thee. I am not of the road-learned of the Noldoli, being a
craftsman and maker of things made by hand of wood and of
metal, and I joined not the band of escort till late. Yet of old have I
heard whispers and sayings said in secret amid the weariness of

thraldom, concerning a city where Noldoli might be free could
they find the hidden way thereto; and we twain may without a
doubt" find the road to the City of Stone, where is that freedom of
the Gondothlim."
Know then that the Gondothlim were that kin of the Noldoli
who alone escaped Melko's power when at the Battle of Unnum-
bered Tears he slew and enslaved their folk and wove spells about
them and caused them to dwell in the Hells of Iron, faring thence
at his will and bidding only.
Long time did Tuor and Bronweg" seek for the city of that folk,
until after many days they came upon a deep dale amid the hills.
Here went the river over a very stony bed with much rush and
noise, and it was curtained with a heavy growth of alders; but the
walls of the dale were sheer, for they were nigh to some mountains
which Voronwe knew not. There in the green wall that Gnome
found an opening like a great door with sloping sides, and this was
cloaked with thick bushes and long-tangled undergrowth; yet
Voronwe's piercing sight might not be deceived. Nonetheless 'tis
said that such a magic had its builders set about it (by aid of Ulmo
whose power ran in that river even if the dread of Melko fared
upon its banks) that none save of the blood of the Noldoli might
light on it thus by chance; nor would Tuor have found it ever
but for the steadfastness of that Gnome Voronwe." Now the
Gondothlim made their abode thus secret out of dread of Melko;
yet even so no few of the braver Noldoli would slip down the river
Sirion from those mountains, and if many perished so by Melko's
evil, many finding this magic passage came at last to the City of
Stone and swelled its people.
Greatly did Tuor and Voronwe rejoice to find this gate, yet
entering they found there a way dark, rough-going, and circuitous;
and long time they travelled faltering within its tunnels. It was full
of fearsome echoes, and there a countless stepping of feet would
come behind them, so that Voronwe became adread, and said: "It
is Melko's goblins, the Orcs of the hills." Then would they run,
falling over stones in the blackness, till they perceived it was but
the deceit of the place. Thus did they come, after it seemed a
measureless time of fearful groping, to a place where a far light
glimmered, and making for this gleam they came to a gate like that
by which they had entered, but in no way overgrown. Then they
passed into the sunlight and could for a while see nought, but
instantly a great gong sounded and there was a clash of armour,
and behold, they were surrounded by warriors in steel.

Then they looked up and could see, and lo! they were at the foot
of steep hills, and these hills made a great circle wherein lay a wide
plain, and set therein, not rightly at the midmost but rather nearer
to that place where they stood, was a great hill with a level top, and
upon that summit rose a city in the new light of the morning.
Then Voronwe spake to the Guard of the Gondothlim, and his
speech they comprehended, for it was the sweet tongue of the
Gnomes." Then spake Tuor also and questioned where they
might be, and who might be the folk in arms who stood about, for
he was somewhat in amaze and wondered much at the goodly
fashion of their weapons. Then 'twas said to him by one of that
company: "We are the guardians of the issue of the Way of Escape.
Rejoice that ye have found it, for behold before you the City of
Seven Names where all who war with Melko may find hope."
Then said Tuor: "What be those names?" And the chief of the
Guard made answer: "'Tis said and 'tis sung: 'Gondobar am I
called and Gondothlimbar, City of Stone and City of the Dwellers
in Stone; Gondolin the Stone of Song and Gwarestrin am I
named, the Tower of Guard, Gar Thurion or the Secret Place, for
I am hidden from the eyes of Melko; but they who love me most
greatly call me Loth, for like a flower am I, even Lothengriol the
flower that blooms on the plain.' Yet," said he, "in our daily
speech we speak and we name it mostly Gondolin." Then said
Voronwe: "Bring us thither, for we fain would enter," and Tuor
said that his heart desired much to tread the ways of that fair city.
Then said the chief of the Guard that they themselves must
abide here, for there were yet many days of their moon of watch
to pass, but that Voronwe and Tuor might pass on to Gondolin;
and moreover that they would need thereto no guide, for "Lo, it
stands fair to see and very clear, and its towers prick the heavens
above the Hill of Watch in the midmost plain." Then Tuor and
his companion fared over the plain that was of a marvellous
level, broken but here and there by boulders round and smooth
which lay amid a sward, or by pools in rocky beds. Many fair
pathways lay across that plain, and they came after a day's light
march to the foot of the Hill of Watch (which is in the tongue
of the Noldoli Amon Gwareth). Then did they begin to ascend the
winding stairways which climbed up to the city gate; nor might
any one reach that city save on foot and espied from the walls.
As the westward gate was golden in the last sunlight did they come
to the long stair's head, and many eyes gazed" upon them from the
battlements and towers.



But Tuor looked upon the walls of stone, and the uplifted
towers, upon the glistering pinnacles of the town, and he
looked upon the stairs of stone and marble, bordered by slender
balustrades and cooled by the leap of threadlike waterfalls seeking
the plain from the fountains of Amon Gwareth, and he fared as
one in some dream of the Gods, for he deemed not such things
were seen by men in the visions of their sleep, so great was his
amaze at the glory of Gondolin.
Even so came they to the gates, Tuor in wonder and Voronwe in
great joy that daring much he had both brought Tuor hither in the
will of Ulmo and had himself thrown off the yoke of Melko for
ever. Though he hated him no wise less, no longer did he dread
that Evil One" with a binding terror (and of a sooth that spell
which Melko held over the Noldoli was one of bottomless dread,
so that he seemed ever nigh them even were they far from the Hells
of Iron, and their hearts quaked and they fled not even when they
could; and to this Melko trusted often).
Now is there a sally from the gates of Gondolin and a throng
comes about these twain in wonder, rejoicing that yet another of
the Noldoli has fled hither from Melko, and marvelling at the
stature and the gaunt limbs of Tuor, his heavy spear barbed with
fish bone and his great harp. Rugged was his aspect, and his locks
were unkempt, and he was clad in the skins of bears. 'Tis written
that in those days the fathers of the fathers of Men were of less
stature than Men now are, and the children of Elfinesse of greater
growth, yet was Tuor taller than any that stood there. Indeed the
Gondothlim were not bent of back as some of their unhappy kin
became, labouring without rest at delving and hammering for
Melko, but small were they and slender and very lithe. They
were swift of foot and surpassing fair; sweet and sad were their
mouths, and their eyes had ever a joy within quivering to tears;
for in those times the Gnomes were exiles at heart, haunted
with a desire for their ancient home that faded not. But fate and
unconquerable eagerness after knowledge had driven them into
far places, and now were they hemmed by Melko and must make
their abiding as fair as they might by labour and by love.
How it came ever that among Men the Noldoli have been
confused with the Orcs who are Melko's goblins, I know not,
unless it be that certain of the Noldoli were twisted to the evil of
Melko and mingled among these Orcs, for all that race were bred
by Melko of the subterranean heats and slime. Their hearts were
of granite and their bodies deformed; foul their faces which smiled

not, but their laugh that of the clash of metal, and to nothing were
they more fain than to aid in the basest of the purposes of Melko.
The greatest hatred was between them and the Noldoli, who
named them Glamhoth, or folk of dreadful hate.
Behold, the armed guardians of the gate pressed back the
thronging folk that gathered about the wanderers, and one among
them spake saying: "This is a city of watch and ward, Gondolin on
Amon Gwareth, where all may be free who are of true heart, but
none may be free to enter unknown. Tell me then your names."
But Voronwe named himself Bronweg of the Gnomes, come
hither" by the will of Ulmo as guide to this son of Men; and Tuor
said: "I am Tuor son of Peleg son of Indor of the house of the
Swan of the sons of the Men of the North who live far hence, and I
fare hither by the wil1 of Ulmo of the Outer Oceans."
Then all who listened grew silent, and his deep and rolling voice
held them in amaze, for their own voices were fair as the plash of
fountains. Then a saying arose among them: "Lead him before the
king."
Then did the throng return within the gates and the wanderers
with them, and Tuor saw they were of iron and of great height
and strength. Now the streets of Gondolin were paved with
stone and wide, kerbed with marble, and fair houses and courts
amid gardens of bright flowers were set about the ways, and many
towers of great slenderness and beauty builded of white marble
and carved most marvellously rose to the heaven. Squares there
were lit with fountains and the home of birds that sang amid the
branches of their aged trees, but of all these the greatest was that
place where stood the king's palace, and the tower thereof was the
loftiest in the city, and the fountains that played before the doors
shot twenty fathoms and seven in the air and fell in a singing rain
of crystal: therein did the sun glitter splendidly by day, and the
moon most magically shimmered by night. The birds that dwelt
there were of the whiteness of snow and their voices sweeter than a
lullaby of music.
On either side of the doors of the palace were two trees, one
that bore blossom of gold and the other of silver, nor did
they ever fade, for they were shoots of old from the glorious Trees
of Valinor that lit those places before Melko and Gloomweaver
withered them: and those trees the Gondothlim named Glingol
and Bansil.
Then Turgon king of Gondolin robed in white with a belt of
gold, and a coronet of garnets was upon his head, stood before

his doors and spake from the head of the white stairs that led
thereto. "Welcome, O Man of the Land of Shadows. Lo! thy
coming was set in our books of wisdom, and it has been written
that there would come to pass many great things in the homes of
the Gondothlim whenso thou faredst hither."
Then spake Tuor, and Ulmo set power in his heart and majesty
in his voice. "Behold, 0 father of the City of Stone, I am bidden
by him who maketh deep music in the Abyss, and who knoweth
the mind of Elves and Men, to say unto thee that the days of
Release draw nigh. There have come to the ears of Ulmo whispers
of your dwelling and your hill of vigilance against the evil of
Melko, and he is glad: but his heart is wroth and the hearts of the
Valar are angered who sit in the mountains of Valinor and look
upon the world from the peak of Taniquetil, seeing the sorrow of
the thraldom of the Noldoli and the wanderings of Men; for Melko
ringeth them in the Land of Shadows beyond hills of iron. There-
fore have I been brought by a secret way to bid you number your
hosts and prepare for battle, for the time is ripe."
Then spake Turgon: "That will I not do, though it be the words
of Ulmo and all the Valar. I will not adventure this my people
against the terror of the Orcs, nor emperil my city against the fire
of Melko."
Then spake Tuor: "Nay, if thou dost not now dare greatly then
will the Orcs dwell for ever and possess in the end most of the
mountains of the Earth, and cease not to trouble both Elves and
Men, even though by other means the Valar contrive hereafter to
release the Noldoli; but if thou trust now to the Valar, though
terrible the encounter, then shall the Orcs fall, and Melko's power
be minished to a little thing."
But Turgon said that he was king of Gondolin and no will
should force him against his counsel to emperil the dear labour of
long ages gone; but Tuor said, for thus was he bidden by Ulmo
who had feared the reluctance of Turgon: "Then am I bidden to
say that men of the Gondothlim repair swiftly and secretly down
the river Sirion to the sea, and there build them boats and go
seek back to Valinor: lo! the paths thereto are forgotten and the
highways faded from the world, and the seas and mountains are
about it, yet still dwell there the Elves on the hill of Kor and
the Gods sit in Valinor, though their mirth is minished for sorrow
and fear of Melko, and they hide their land and weave about it
inaccessible magic that no evil come to its shores. Yet still might
thy messengers win there and turn their hearts that they rise in


wrath and smite Melko, and destroy the Hells of Iron that he has
wrought beneath the Mountains of Darkness."
Then said Turgon: "Every year at the lifting of winter have
messengers repaired swiftly and by stealth down the river that is
called Sirion to the coasts of the Great Sea, and there builded
them boats whereto have swans and gulls been harnessed or the
strong wings of the wind, and these have sought back beyond the
moon and sun to Valinor; but the paths thereto are forgotten and
the highways faded from the world, and the seas and mountains
are about it, and they that sit within in mirth reck little of the dread
of Melko or the sorrow of the world, but hide their land and weave
about it inaccessible magic, that no tidings of evil come ever to
their ears. Nay, enough of my people have for years untold gone
out to the wide waters never to return, but have perished in the
deep places or wander now lost in the shadows that have no paths;
and at the coming of next year no more shall fare to the sea, but
rather will we trust to ourselves and our city for the warding off of
Melko; and thereto have the Valar been of scant help aforetime."
Then Tuor's heart was heavy, and Voronwe wept; and Tuor sat
by the great fountain of the king and its splashing recalled the
music of the waves, and his soul was troubled by the conches of
Ulmo and he would return down the waters of Sirion to the sea.
But Turgon, who knew that Tuor, mortal as he was, had the
favour of the Valar, marking his stout glance and the power of his
voice sent to him and bade him dwell in Gondolin and be in his
favour, and abide even within the royal halls if he would.
Then Tuor, for he was weary, and that place was fair, said yea;
and hence cometh the abiding of Tuor in Gondolin. Of all Tuor's
deeds among the Gondothlim the tales tell not, but 'tis said that
many a time would he have stolen thence, growing weary of the
concourses of folk, and thinking of empty forest and fell or hearing
afar the sea-music of Ulmo, had not his heart been filled with love
for a woman of the Gondothlim, and she was a daughter of the
king.
Now Tuor learnt many things in those realms taught by
Voronwe whom he loved, and who loved him exceeding greatly
in return; or else was he instructed by the skilled men of
the city and the wise men of the king. Wherefore he became
a man far mightier than aforetime and wisdom was in his
counsel; and many things became clear to him that were unclear
before, and many things known that are still unknown to mortal
Men. There he heard concerning that city of Gondolin and how


unstaying labour through ages of years had not sufficed to its
building and adornment whereat folk' travailed yet; of the delv-
ing of that hidden tunnel he heard, which the folk named the Way
of Escape, and how there had been divided counsels in that
matter, yet pity for the enthralled Noldoli had prevailed in the end
to its making; of the guard without ceasing he was told, that
was held there in arms and likewise at certain low places in the
encircling mountains, and how watchers dwelt ever vigilant on
the highest peaks of that range beside builded beacons ready
for the fire; for never did that folk cease to look for an onslaught
of the Orcs did their stronghold become known.
Now however was the guard of the hills maintained rather by
custom than necessity, for the Gondothlim had long ago with
unimagined toil levelled and cleared and delved all that plain
about Amon Gwareth, so that scarce Gnome or bird or beast or
snake could approach but was espied from many leagues off, for
among the Gondothlim were many whose eyes were keener than
the very hawks of Manwe Sulimo Lord of Gods and Elves who
dwells upon Taniquetil; and for this reason did they call that
vale Tumladin or the valley of smoothness. Now this great work
was finished to their mind, and folk were the busier about the
quarrying of metals and the forging of all manner of swords and
axes, spears and bills, and the fashioning of coats of mail,
byrnies and hauberks, greaves and vambraces, helms and shields.
Now 'twas said to Tuor that already the whole folk of Gondolin
shooting with bows without stay day or night might not expend
their hoarded arrows in many years, and that yearly their fear of
the Orcs grew the less for this.
There learnt Tuor of building with stone, of masonry and the
hewing of rock and marble; crafts of weaving and spinning,
broidure and painting, did he fathom, and cunning in metals.
Musics most delicate he there heard; and in these were they who
dwelt in the southern city the most deeply skilled, for there played
a profusion of murmuring founts and springs. Many of these
subtleties Tuor mastered and learned to entwine with his songs to
the wonder and heart's joy of all who heard. Strange stories of the
Sun and Moon and Stars, of the manner of the Earth and its
elements, and of the depths of heaven, were told to him; and the
secret characters of the Elves he learnt, and their speeches and old
tongues, and heard tell of Iluvatar, the Lord for Always, who
dwelleth beyond the world, of the great music of the Ainur about
Iluvatar's feet in the uttermost deeps of time, whence came the

making of the world and the manner of it, and all therein and their
governance."
Now for his skill and his great mastery over all lore and craft
whatsoever, and his great courage of heart and body, did Tuor
become a comfort and stay to the king who had no son; and he was
beloved by the folk of Gondolin. Upon a time the king caused his
most cunning artificers to fashion a suit of armour for Tuor as a
great gift, and it was made of Gnome-steel overlaid with silver;
but his helm was adorned with a device of metals and jewels like to
two swan-wings, one on either side, and a swan's wing was wrought
on his shield; but he carried an axe rather than a sword, and this in
the speech of the Gondothlim he named Dramborleg, for its
buffet stunned and its edge clove all armour.
A house was built for him upon the southern walls, for he loved
the free airs and liked not the close neighbourhood of other
dwellings. There it was his delight often to stand on the battle-
ments at dawn, and folk rejoiced to see the new light catch the
wings of his helm -- and many murmured and would fain have
backed him into battle with the Orcs, seeing that the speeches of
those two, Tuor and Turgon, before the palace were known to
many; but this matter went not further for reverence of Turgon,
and because at this time in Tuor's heart the thought of the words
of Ulmo seemed to have grown dim and far off.
Now came days when Tuor had dwelt among the Gondothlim
many years. Long had he known and cherished a love for the
king's daughter, and now was his heart full of that love. Great love
too had Idril for Tuor, and the strands of her fate were woven with
his even from that day when first she gazed upon him from a high
window as he stood a way-worn suppliant before the palace of the
king. Little cause had Turgon to withstand their love, for he saw
in Tuor a kinsman of comfort and great hope. Thus was first wed a
child of Men with a daughter of Elfinesse, nor was Tuor the last.
Less bliss have many had than they, and their sorrow in the end
was great. Yet great was the mirth of those days when Idril and
Tuor were wed before the folk in Gar Ainion, the Place of the
Gods, nigh to the king's halls. A day of merriment was that
wedding to the city of Gondolin, and of~ the greatest happiness to
Tuor and Idril. Thereafter dwelt they in joy in that house upon
the walls that looked out south over Tumladin, and this was good
to the hearts of all in the city save Meglin alone. Now that Gnome
was come of an ancient house, though now were its numbers less
than others, but he himself was nephew to the king by his mother
the king's sister Isfin; and that tale of Isfin and Eol may not here be
told.
Now the sign of Meglin was a sable Mole, and he was great
among quarrymen and a chief of the delvers after ore; and many of
these belonged to his house. Less fair was he than most of this
goodly folk, swart and of none too kindly mood, so that he won
small love, and whispers there were that he had Orc's blood in his
veins, but I know not how this could be true. Now he had bid
often with the king for the hand of Idril, yet Turgon finding her
very loth had as often said nay, for him seemed Meglin's suit was
caused as much by the desire of standing in high power beside the
royal throne as by love of that most fair maid. Fair indeed was
she arid brave thereto; and the people called her Idril of the
Silver Feet" in that she went ever barefoot and bareheaded, king's
daughter as she was, save only at pomps of the Ainur; and Meglin
gnawed his anger seeing Tuor thrust him out.
In these days came to pass the fulfilment of the time of the
desire of the Valar and the hope of [the] Eldalie, for in great love
Idril bore to Tuor a son and he was called Earendel. Now thereto
there are many interpretations both among Elves and Men, but
belike it was a name wrought of some secret tongue among the
Gondothlim" and that has perished with them from the dwellings
of the Earth.
Now this babe was of greatest beauty; his skin of a shining white
and his eyes of a blue surpassing that of the sky in southern lands --
bluer than the sapphires of the raiment of Manwe;~ and the envy
of Meglin was deep at his birth, but the joy of Turgon and all the
people very great indeed.
Behold now many years have gone since Tuor was lost amid the
foothills and deserted by those Noldoli; yet many years too have
gone since to Melko's ears came first those strange tidings -- faint
were they and various in form -- of a Man wandering amid the
 dales of the waters of Sirion. Now Melko was not much afraid of
the race of Men in those days of his great power, and for this
reason did Ulmo work through one of this kindred for the better
deceiving of Melko, seeing that no Valar and scarce any of the
Eldar or Noldoli might stir unmarked of his vigilance. Yet none-
theless foreboding smote that ill heart at the tidings, and he got
together a mighty army of spies: sons of the Orcs were there with
 (* Faintly pencilled above in Tuor B: Idril Talceleb.)

eyes of yellow and green like cats that could pierce all glooms and
see through mist or fog or night; snakes that could go everywhither
and search all crannies or the deepest pits or the highest peaks,
listen to every whisper that ran in the grass or echoed in the hills;
wolves there were and ravening dogs and great weasels full of the
thirst of blood whose nostrils could take scent moons old through
running water, or whose eyes find among shingle footsteps that
had passed a lifetime since; owls came and falcons whose keen
glance might descry by day or night the fluttering of small birds in
all the woods of the world, and the movement of every mouse or
vole or rat that crept or dwelt throughout the Earth. All these he
summoned to his Hall of Iron, and they came in multitudes.
Thence he sent them over the Earth to seek this Man who had
escaped from the Land of Shadows, but yet far more curiously and
intently to search out the dwelling of the Noldoli that had escaped
his thraldom; for these his heart burnt to destroy or to enslave.
Now while Tuor dwelt in happiness and in great increase of
knowledge and might in Gondolin, these creatures through the
years untiring nosed among the stones and rocks, hunted
the forests and the heaths, espied the airs and lofty places,
tracked all paths about the dales and plains, and neither let
nor stayed. From this hunt they brought a wealth of tidings to
Melko -- indeed among many hidden things that they dragged
to light they discovered that Way of Escape whereby Tuor
and Voronwe entered aforetime. Nor had they done so save by
constraining some of the less stout of the Noldoli with dire threats
of torment to join in that great ransacking; for because of the
magic about that gate no folk of Melko unaided by the Gnomes
could come to it. Yet now they had pried of late far into its
tunnels and captured within many of the Noldoli creeping there to
flee from thraldom. They had scaled too the Encircling Hills*
at. certain places and gazed upon the beauty of the city of
Gondolin and the strength of Amon Gwareth from afar; but into
the plain they could not win for the vigilance of its guardians and
the difficulty of those mountains. Indeed the Gondothlim were
mighty archers, and bows they made of a marvel of power.
Therewith might they shoot an arrow into heaven seven times as
far as could the best bowman among Men shoot at a mark upon the
ground; and they would have suffered no falcon to hover long over
their plain or snake to crawl therein; for they liked not creatures of
blood, broodlings of Melko.
(* Pencilled above in Tuor B: Heborodin.)

Now in those days was Earendel one year old when these ill
tidings came to that city of the spies of Melko and how they
encompassed the vale of Tumladin around. Then Turgon's heart
was saddened, remembering the words of Tuor in past years
before the palace doors; and he caused the watch and ward to be
thrice strengthened at all points, and engines of war to be devised
by his artificers and set upon the hill. Poisonous fires and hot
liquids, arrows and great rocks, was he prepared to shoot down on
any who would assail those gleaming walls; and then he abode as
well content as might be, but Tuor's heart was heavier than the
king's, for now the words of Ulmo came ever to his mind, and their
purport and gravity he understood more deeply than of old; nor
did he find any great comfort in Idril, for her heart boded more
darkly even than his own.
Know then that Idril had a great power of piercing with her
thought the darkness of the hearts of Elves and Men, and the
glooms of the future thereto -- further even than is the common
power of the kindreds of the Eldalie; therefore she spake thus on a
day to Tuor: "Know, my husband, that my heart misgives me for
doubt of Meglin, and I fear that he will bring an ill on this fair
realm, though by no means may I see how or when -- yet I dread
lest all that he knows of our doings and preparations become in
some manner known to the Foe, so that he devise a new means of
whelming us, against which we have thought of no defence. Lo! I
dreamed on a night that Meglin builded a furnace, and coming at
us unawares flung therein Earendel our babe, and would after
thrust in thee and me; but that for sorrow at the death of our fair
child I would not resist."
And Tuor answered: "There is reason for thy fear, for neither is
my heart good towards Meglin; yet is he the nephew of the king
and thine own cousin, nor is there charge against him, and I see
nought to do but to abide and watch."
But Idril said: "This is my rede thereto: gather thou in deep
secret those delvers and quarrymen who by careful trial are found
to hold least love for Meglin by reason of the pride and arrogance
of his dealings among them. From these thou must choose trusty
men to keep watch upon Meglin whenso he fares to the outer hills,
yet I counsel thee to set the greater part of those in whose secrecy
thou canst confide at a hidden delving, and to devise with their aid
-- howsoever cautious and slow that labour be -- a secret way from
thy house here beneath the rocks of this hill unto the vale below.
Now this way must not lead toward the Way of Escape, for my



heart bids me trust it not, but even to that far distant pass, the
Cleft of Eagles in the southern mountains; and the further this
delving reach thitherward beneath the plain so much the better
would I esteem it -- yet let all this labour be kept dark save from a
few."
Now there are none such delvers of earth or rock as the Noldoli
(and this Melko knows), but in those places is the earth of a great
hardness; and Tuor said: "The rocks of the hill of Amon Gwareth
are as iron, and only with much travail may they be cloven; yet if
this be done in secret then must great time and patience be added;
but the stone of the floor of the Vale of Tumladin is as forged steel,
nor may it be hewn without the knowledge of the Gondothlim save
in moons and years."
Idril said then: "Sooth this may be, but such is my rede, and
there is yet time to spare." Then Tuor said that he might not see all
its purport, "but 'better is any plan than a lack of counsel', and I
will do even as thou sayest".
Now it so chanced that not long after Meglin went to the hills for
the getting of ore, and straying in the mountains alone was taken
by some of the Orcs prowling there, and they would do him evil
and terrible hurt, knowing him to be a man of the Gondothlim.
This was however unknown of Tuor's watchers. But evil came
into the heart of Meglin, and he said to his captors: "Know then
that I am Meglin son of Eol who had to wife Isfin sister of Turgon
king of the Gondothlim." But they said: "What is that to us?" And
Meglin answered: "Much is it to you; for if you slay me, be it
speedy or slow, ye will lose great tidings concerning the city of
Gondolin that your master would rejoice to hear." Then the Orcs
stayed their hands, and said they would give him life if the matters
he opened to them seemed to merit that; and Meglin told them of
all the fashion of that plain and city, of its walls and their height
and thickness, and the valour of its gates; of the host of men at
arms who now obeyed Turgon he spake, and the countless hoard
of weapons gathered for their equipment, of the engines of war
and the venomous fires.
Then the Orcs were wroth, and having heard these matters
were yet for slaying him there and then as one who impudently
enlarged the power of his miserable folk to the mockery of the
great might and puissance of Melko; but Meglin catching at a
straw said: "Think ye not that ye would rather pleasure your
master if ye bore to his feet so noble a captive, that he might hear
my tidings of himself and judge of their verity?"

Now this seemed good to the Orcs, and they returned from the
mountains about Gondolin to the Hills of Iron and the dark halls
of Melko; thither they haled Meglin with them, and now was he in
a sore dread. But when he knelt before the black throne of Melko
in terror of the grimness of the shapes about him, of the wolves
that sat beneath that chair and of the adders that twined about its
legs, Melko bade him speak. Then told he those tidings, and
Melko hearkening spake very fair to him, that the insolence of his
heart in great measure returned.
Now the end of this was that Melko aided by the cunning of
Meglin devised a plan for the overthrow of Gondolin. For
this Meglin's reward was to be a great captaincy among the Orcs --
yet Melko purposed not in his heart to fulfil such a promise -- but
Tuor and Earendel should Melko burn, and Idril be given to
Meglin's arms -- and such promises was that evil one fain to
redeem. Yet as meed of treachery did Melko threaten Meglin with
the torment of the Balrogs. Now these were demons with whips of
flame and claws of steel by whom he tormented those of the
Noldoli who durst withstand him in anything -- and the Eldar have
called them Malkarauki. But the rede that Meglin gave to Melko
was that not all the host of the Orcs nor the Balrogs in their
fierceness might by assault or siege hope ever to overthrow the
walls and gates of Gondolin even if they availed to win unto
the plain without. Therefore he counselled Melko to devise out
of his sorceries a succour for his warriors in their endeavour.
From the greatness of his wealth of metals and his powers of fire he
bid him make beasts like snakes and dragons of irresistible might
that should overcreep the Encircling Hills and lap that plain and
its fair city in flame and death.
Then Meglin was bidden fare home lest at his absence men
suspect somewhat; but Melko wove about him the spell of bottom-
less dread, and he had thereafter neither joy nor quiet in his heart.
Nonetheless he wore a fair mask of good liking and gaiety, so that
men said: "Meglin is softened", and he was held in less disfavour;
yet Idril feared him the more. Now Meglin said: "I have laboured
much and am minded to rest, and to join in the dance and the song
and the merrymakings of the folk", and he went no more quarry-
ing stone or ore in the hills: yet in sooth he sought herein to drown
his fear and disquiet. A dread possessed him that Melko was ever
at hand, and this came of the spell; and he durst never again
wander amid the mines lest he again fall in with the Orcs and be
bidden once more to the terrors of the halls of darkness.

I
Now the years fare by, and egged by Idril Tuor keepeth ever at
his secret delving; but seeing that the leaguer of spies hath grown
thinner Turgon dwelleth more at ease and in less fear. Yet these
years are filled by Melko in the utmost ferment of labour, and all
the thrall-folk of the Noldoli must dig unceasingly for metals while
Melko sitteth and deviseth fires and calleth flames and smokes to
come from the lower heats, nor doth he suffer any of the Noldoli to
stray ever a foot from their places of bondage. Then on a time
Melko assembled all his most cunning smiths and sorcerers, and of
iron and flame they wrought a host of monsters such as have only
at that time been seen and shall not again be till the Great End.
Some were all of iron so cunningly linked that they might flow like
slow rivers of metal or coil themselves around and above all
obstacles before them, and these were filled in their innermost
depths with the grimmest of the Orcs with scimitars and spears;
others of bronze and copper were given hearts and spirits of
blazing fire, and they blasted all that stood before them with the
terror of their snorting or trampled whatso escaped the ardour of
their breath; yet others were creatures of pure flame that writhed
like ropes of molten metal, and they brought to ruin whatever
fabric they came nigh, and iron and stone melted before them and
became as water, and upon them rode the Balrogs in hundreds;
and these were the most dire of all those monsters which Melko
devised against Gondolin.
Now when the seventh summer had gone since the treason of
Meglin, and Earendel was yet of very tender years though a
valorous child, Melko withdrew all his spies, for every path
and corner of the mountains was now known to him; yet the
Gondothlim thought in their unwariness that Melko would no
longer seek against them, perceiving their might and the
impregnable strength of their dwelling.
But Idril fell into a dark mood and the light of her face was
clouded, and many wondered thereat; yet Turgon reduced the
watch and ward to its ancient numbers, and to somewhat less, and
as autumn came and the gathering of fruits was over folk turned
with glad hearts to the feasts of winter: but Tuor stood upon the
battlements and gazed upon the Encircling Hills.
Now behold, Idril stood beside him, and the wind was in her
hair, and Tuor thought that she was exceeding beautiful, and
stooped to kiss her; but her face was sad, and she said: "Now come
the days when thou must make choice," and Tuor knew not what
she said. Then drawing him within their halls she said to him how

her heart misgave her for fear concerning Earendel her son, and
for boding that some great evil was nigh, and that Melko would be
at the bottom of it. Then Tuor would comfort her, but might not,
and she questioned him concerning the secret delving, and he said
how it now led a league into the plain, and at that was her heart
somewhat lightened. But still she counselled that the delving be
pressed on, and that henceforth should speed weigh more than
secrecy, "because now is the time very near". And another rede
she gave him, and this he took also, that certain of the bravest and
most true among the lords and warriors of the Gondothlim be
chosen with care and told of that secret way and its issue. These
she counselled him to make into a stout guard and to give them his
emblem to wear that they become his folk, and to do thus under
pretext of the right and dignity of a great lord, kinsman to the
king. "Moreover," said she, "I will get my father's favour to that."
In secret too she whispered to folk that if the city came to its last
stand or Turgon be slain that they rally about Tuor and her son,
and to this they laughed a yea, saying however that Gondolin
would stand as long as Taniquetil or the Mountains of Valinor.
Yet to Turgon she spoke not openly, nor suffered Tuor to do so,
as he desired, despite their love and reverence for him -- a great and
a noble and a glorious king he was -- seeing that he trusted in
Meglin and held with blind obstinacy his belief in the impregnable
might of the city and that Melko sought no more against it,
perceiving no hope therein. Now in this he was ever strengthened
by the cunning sayings of Meglin. Behold, the guile of that
Gnome was very great, for he wrought much in the dark, so
that folk said: "He doth well to bear the sign of a sable
mole"; and by reason of the folly of certain of the quarrymen,
and yet more by reason of the loose words of certain among his
tin to whom word was somewhat unwarily spoken by Tuor, he
gathered a knowledge of the secret work and laid against that
a plan of his own.
So winter deepened, and it was very cold for those regions, so
that frost fared about the plain of Tumladin and ice lay on its
pools; yet the fountains played ever on Amon Gwareth and the
two trees blossomed, and folk made merry till the day of terror
that was hidden in the heart of Melko.
In these ways that bitter winter passed, and the snows lay
deeper than ever before on the Encircling Hills; yet in its time a
spring of wondrous glory melted the skirts of those white mantles
and the valley drank the waters and burst into flowers. So came

and passed with revelry of children the festival of Nost-na-Lothion
or the Birth of Flowers, and the hearts of the Gondothlim were
uplifted for the good promise of the year; and now at length is that
great feast Tarnin Austa or the Gates of Summer near at hand.
For know that on a night it was their custom to begin a solemn
ceremony at midnight, continuing it even till the dawn of Tarnin
Austa broke, and no voice was uttered in the city from midnight
till the break of day, but the dawn they hailed with ancient songs.
For years uncounted had the coming of summer thus been greeted
with music of choirs, standing upon their gleaming eastern wall;
and now comes even the night of vigil and the city is filled with
silver lamps, while in the groves upon the new-leaved trees lights
of jewelled colours swing, and low musics go along the ways, but
no voice sings until the dawn.
The sun has sunk beyond the hills and folk array them for the
festival very gladly and eagerly -- glancing in expectation to the
East. Lo! even when she had gone and all was dark, a new light
suddenly began, and a glow there was, but it was beyond the
northward heights,~ and men marvelled, and there was a thronging
of the walls and battlements. Then wonder grew to doubt as that
light waxed and became yet redder, and doubt to dread as men saw
the snow upon the mountains dyed as it were with blood. And thus
it was that the fire-serpents of Melko came upon Gondolin.
Then came over the plain riders who bore breathless tidings
from those who kept vigil on the peaks; and they told of the fiery
hosts and the shapes like dragons, and said: "Melko is upon us.
Great was the fear and anguish within that beauteous city, and the
streets and byeways were filled with the weeping of women and
the wailing of children, and the squares with the mustering of
soldiers and the ring of arms. There were the gleaming banners
of all the great houses and kindreds of the Gondothlim. Mighty,
was the array of the house of the king and their colours were white.
and gold and red, and their emblems the moon and the sun and the
scarlet heart." Now in the midmost of these stood Tuor above all
heads, and his mail of silver gleamed; and about him was a press of,
the stoutest of the folk. Lo! all these wore wings as it were of swans
or gulls upon their helms, and the emblem of the White Wing was
upon their shields. But the folk of Meglin were drawn up in the
same place, and sable was their harness, and they bore no sign or
emblem, but their round caps of steel were covered with moleskin,
and they fought with axes two-headed like mattocks. There Meglin
prince of Gondobar gathered many warriors of dark countenance

and lowering gaze about him, and a ruddy glow shone upon their
faces and gleamed about the polished surfaces of their accoutre-
ment. Behold, all the hills to the north were ablaze, and it was as if
rivers of fire ran down the slopes that led to the plain of Tumladin,
and folk might already feel the heat thereof.
And many other kindreds were there, the folk of the Swallow
and the Heavenly Arch, and from these folk came the greatest
 number and the best of the bowmen, and they were arrayed upon
 the broad places of the walls. Now the folk of the Swallow bore a
fan of feathers on their helms, and they were arrayed in white and
dark blue and in purple and black and showed an arrowhead on
their shields. Their lord was Duilin, swiftest of all men to run and
leap and surest of archers at a mark. But they of the Heavenly Arch
being a folk of uncounted wealth were arrayed in a glory of
colours, and their arms were set with jewels that flamed in the
 light now over the sky. Every shield of that battalion was of the
 blue of the heavens and its boss a jewel built of seven gems, rubies
and amethysts and sapphires, emeralds, chrysoprase, topaz, and
amber, but an opal of great size was set in their helms. Egalmoth
 was their chieftain, and wore a blue mantle upon which the stars
 were broidered in crystal, and his sword was bent -- now none else
of the Noldoli bore curved swords -- yet he trusted rather to the
bow, and shot therewith further than any among that host.
There too were the folk of the Pillar and of the Tower of Snow,
 and both these kindreds were marshalled by Penlod, tallest of
 Gnomes. There were those of the Tree, and they were a great
house, and their raiment was green. They fought with iron-
studded clubs or with slings, and their lord Galdor was held the
most valiant of all the Gondothlim save Turgon alone. There
stood the house of the Golden Flower who bare a rayed sun upon
their shield, and their chief Glorfindel bare a mantle so broidered
in threads of gold that it was diapered with celandine as a field in
spring; and his arms were damascened with cunning gold.
Then came there from the south of the city the people of the
Fountain, and Ecthelion was their lord, and silver and diamonds
were their delight; and swords very long and bright and pale did
they wield, and they went into battle to the music of flutes. Behind
them came the host of the Harp, and this was a battalion of brave
warriors; but their leader Salgant was a craven, and he fawned
upon Meglin. They were dight with tassels of silver and tassels of
gold, and a harp of silver shone in their blazonry upon a field of
black; but Salgant bore one of gold, and he alone rode into battle

of all the sons of the Gondothlim, and he was heavy and squat.
Now the last of the battalions was furnished by the folk of the
Hammer of Wrath, and of these came many of the best smiths and
craftsmen, and all that kindred reverenced Aule the Smith more
than all other Ainur. They fought with great maces like hammers,
and their shields were heavy, for their arms were very strong. In
older days they had been much recruited by Noldoli who escaped
from the mines of Melko, and the hatred of this house for the
works of that evil one and the Balrogs his demons was exceeding
great. Now their leader was Rog, strongest of the Gnomes, scarce
second in valour to that Galdor of the Tree. The sign of this
people was the Stricken Anvil, and a hammer that smiteth sparks
about it was set on their shields, and red gold and black iron
was their delight. Very numerous was that battalion, nor had
any amongst them a faint heart, and they won the greatest glory
of all those fair houses in that struggle against doom; yet were
they ill-fated, and none ever fared away from that field, but fell
about Rog and vanished from the Earth; and with them much
craftsmanship and skill has been lost for ever.~
This was the fashion and the array of the eleven houses of the
Gondothlim with their signs and emblems, and the bodyguard of
Tuor, the folk of the Wing, was accounted the twelfth. Now is the
face of that chieftain grim and he looks not to live long -- and there
in his house upon the walls Idril arrays herself in mail, and seeks
Earendel. And that child was in tears for the strange lights of red
that played about the walls of the chamber where he slept; and
tales that his nurse Meleth had woven him concerning fiery Melko
at times of his waywardness came to him and troubled him. But
his mother coming set about him a tiny coat of mail that she had let
fashion in secret, and at that time he was glad and exceeding proud, ю
and he shouted for pleasure. Yet Idril wept, for much had she
cherished in her heart the fair city and her goodly house, and the
love of Tuor and herself that had dwelt therein; but now she saw
its destroying nigh at hand, and feared that her contriving would
fail against this overwhelming might of the terror of the serpents.
It was now four hours still from middle night, and the sky was
red in the north and in the east and west; and those serpents of iron
had reached the levels of Tumladin, and those fiery ones were
among the lowest slopes of the hills, so that the guards were taken '
and set in evil torment by the Balrogs that scoured all about,
saving only to the furthest south where was Cristhorn the Cleft of
Eagles.



Then did King Turgon call a council, and thither fared Tuor
and Meglin as royal princes; and Duilin came with Egalmoth and
Penlod the tall, and Rog strode thither with Galdor of the Tree
and golden Glorfindel and Ecthelion of the voice of music. Thither
too fared Salgant atremble at the tidings, and other nobles beside
of less blood but better heart.
Then spake Tuor and this was his rede, that a mighty sally be
made forthwith, ere the light and heat grew too great in the plain;
and many backed him, being but of different minds as to whether
the sally should be made by the entire host with the maids and
wives and children amidmost, or by diverse bands seeking out in
many directions; and to this last Tuor leaned.
But Meglin and Salgant alone held other counsel and were for
holding to the city and seeking to guard those treasures that lay
within. Out of guile did Meglin speak thus, fearing lest any of the
Noldoli escape the doom that he had brought upon them for the
saving of his skin, and he dreaded lest his treason become known
and somehow vengeance find him in after days. But Salgant spake
both echoing Meglin and being grievously afraid of issuing from
the city, for he was fain rather to do battle from an impregnable
fortress than to risk hard blows upon the field.
Then the lord of the house of the Mole played upon the one
weakness of Turgon, saying:" Lo! O King, the city of Gondolin
contains a wealth of jewels and metals and stuffs and of things
wrought by the hands of the Gnomes to surpassing beauty, and all
these thy lords -- more brave meseems than wise -- would abandon
to the Foe. Even should victory be thine upon the plain thy city
will be sacked and the Balrogs get hence with a measureless
booty"; and Turgon groaned, for Meglin had known his great love
for the wealth and loveliness of that burg~ upon Amon Gwareth.
Again said Meglin, putting fire in his voice: "Lo! Hast thou for
nought laboured through years uncounted at the building of walls
of impregnable thickness and in the making of gates whose valour
may not be overthrown; is the power of the hill Amon Gwareth
become as lowly as the deep vale, or the hoard of weapons that lie
upon it and its unnumbered arrows of so little worth that in the
hour of peril thou wouldst cast all aside and go naked into the open
against enemies of steel and fire, whose trampling shakes the earth
and the Encircling Mountains ring with the clamour of their
footsteps?
And Salgant quaked to think of it and spake noisily, saying:
"Meglin speaks well, 0 King, hear thou him." Then the king took

the counsel of those twain though all the lords said otherwise, nay
rather the more for that: therefore at his bidding does all that folk
abide now the assault upon their walls. But Tuor wept and left the
king's hall, and gathering the men of the Wing went through the
streets seeking his home; and by that hour was the light great and
lurid and there was stifling heat and a black smoke and stench
arose about the pathways to the city.
And now came the Monsters across the valley and the white
towers of Gondolin reddened before them; but the stoutest were
in dread seeing those dragons of fire and those serpents of bronze
and iron that fare already about the hill of the city; and they shot
unavailing arrows at them. Then is there a cry of hope, for behold,
the snakes of fire may not climb the hill for its steepness and for its
glassiness, and by reason of the quenching waters that fall upon its
sides; yet they lie about its feet and a vast steam arises where the
streams of Amon Gwareth and the flames of the serpents drive
together. Then grew there such a heat that women became faint
and men sweated to weariness beneath their mail, and all the
springs of the city, save only the fountain of the king, grew hot and
smoked.
But now Gothmog lord of Balrogs, captain of the hosts of
Melko, took counsel and gathered all his things of iron that could
coil themselves around and above all obstacles before them. These
he bade pile themselves before the northern gate; and behold,
their great spires reached even to its threshold and thrust at the
towers and bastions about it, and by reason of the exceeding
heaviness of their bodies those gates fell, and great was the noise
thereof: yet the most of the walls around them still stood firm.
Then the engines and the catapults of the king poured darts and
boulders and molten metals on those ruthless beasts, and their
hollow bellies clanged beneath the buffeting, yet it availed not for
they might not be broken, and the fires rolled off them. Then were
the topmost opened about their middles, and an innumerable host
of the Orcs, the goblins of hatred, poured therefrom into the
breach; and who shall tell of the gleam of their scimitars or the
flash of the broad-bladed spears with which they stabbed?
Then did Rog shout in a mighty voice, and all the people of the,
Hammer of Wrath and the kindred of the Tree with Galdor the
valiant leapt at the foe. There the blows of their great hammers
and the dint of their clubs rang to the Encircling Mountains and
the Orcs fell like leaves; and those of the Swallow and the Arch
poured arrows like the dark rains of autumn upon them, and both



Orcs and Gondothlim fell thereunder for the smoke and the
confusion. Great was that battle, yet for all their valour the
Gondothlim by reason of the might of ever increasing numbers
were borne slowly backwards till the goblins held part of the
northernmost city.
At this time is Tuor at the head of the folk of the Wing struggling
in the turmoil of the streets, and now he wins through to his house
and finds that Meglin is before him. Trusting in the battle now
begun about the northern gate and in the uproar in the city,
Meglin had looked to this hour for the consummation of his
designs. Learning much of the secret delving of Tuor (yet only
at the last moment had he got this knowledge and he could not
discover all) he said nought to the king or any other, for it was
his thought that of a surety that tunnel would go in the end toward
the Way of Escape, this being the most nigh to the city, and he had
a mind to use this to his good, and to the ill of the Noldoli.
Messengers by great stealth he despatched to Melko to set a guard
about the outer issue of that Way when the assault was made; but
he himself thought now to take Earendel and cast him into the fire
beneath the walls, and seizing Idril he would constrain her to
guide him to the secrets of the passage, that he might win out of
this terror of fire and slaughter and drag her withal along with him
to the lands of Melko. Now Meglin was afeared that even the
secret token which Melko had given him would fail in that direful
sack, and was minded to help that Ainu to the fulfilment of his
promises of safety. No doubt had he however of the death of Tuor
in that great burning, for to Salgant he had confided the task of
delaying him in the king's halls and egging him straight thence
into the deadliest of the fight -- but lo! Salgant fell into a terror
unto death, and he rode home and lay there now aquake on his
bed; but Tuor fared home with the folk of the Wing.
Now Tuor did this, though his valour leapt to the noise of war,
that he might take farewell of Idril and Earendel; and speed them
with a bodyguard down the secret way ere he returned himself to
the battle throng to die if must be: but he found a press of the
Mole-folk about his door, and these were the grimmest and least
good-hearted of folk that Meglin might get in that city. Yet were
they free Noldoli and under no spell of Melko's like their master,
wherefore though for the lordship of Meglin they aided not Idril,
no more would they touch of his purpose despite all his curses.
Now then Meglin had Idril by the hair and sought to drag her to
the battlements out of cruelty of heart, that she might see the fall

of Earendel to the flames; but he was cumbered by that child, and
she fought, alone as she was, like a tigress for all her beauty and
slenderness. There he now struggles and delays amid oaths while
that folk of the Wing draw nigh -- and lo! Tuor gives a shout so
great that the Orcs hear it afar and waver at the sound of it. Like a
crash of tempest the guard of the Wing were amid the men of the
Mole, and these were stricken asunder. When Meglin saw this he
would stab Earendel with a short knife he had; but that child bit
his left hand, that his teeth sank in, and he staggered, and stabbed
weakly, and the mail of the small coat turned the blade aside; and
thereupon Tuor was upon him and his wrath was terrible to see.
He seized Meglin by that hand that held the knife and broke the
arm with the wrench, and then taking him by the middle leapt
with him upon the walls, and flung him far out. Great was the
fall of his body, and it smote Amon Gwareth three times ere it
pitched in the midmost of the flames; and the name of Meglin has
gone out in shame from among Eldar and Noldoli.
Then the warriors of the Mole being more numerous than those
few of the Wing, and loyal to their lord, came at Tuor, and there
were great blows, but no man might stand before the wrath of
Tuor, and they were smitten and driven to fly into what dark holes
they might, or flung from the walls. Then Tuor and his men must
get them to the battle of the Gate, for the noise of it has grown very
great, and Tuor has it still in his heart that the city may stand; yet
with Idril he left there Voronwe against his will and some other
swordsmen to be a guard for her till he returned or might send
tidings from the fray.
Now was the battle at that gate very evil indeed, and Duilin of
the Swallow as he shot from the walls was smitten by a fiery bolt
of the Balrogs who leapt about the base of Amon Gwareth; and he
fell from the battlements and perished. Then the Balrogs con-
tinued to shoot darts of fire and flaming arrows like small snakes
into the sky, and these fell upon the roofs and gardens of Gondolin
till all the trees were scorched, and the flowers and grass burned
up, and the whiteness of those walls and colonnades was blackened
and seared: yet a worse matter was it that a company of those
demons climbed upon the coils of the serpents of iron and thence
loosed unceasingly from their bows and slings till a fire began to
burn in the city to the back of the main army of the defenders.
Then said Rog in a great voice: "Who now shall fear the Balrogs
for all their terror? See before us the accursed ones who for ages
have tormented the children of the Noldoli, and who now set a fire

at our backs with their shooting. Come ye of the Hammer of
Wrath and we will smite them for their evil." Thereupon he lifted
his mace, and its handle was long; and he made a way before him
by the wrath of his onset even unto the fallen gate: but all the
people of the Stricken Anvil ran behind like a wedge, and sparks
came from their eyes for the fury of their rage. A great deed was
that sally, as the Noldoli sing yet, and many of the Orcs were
borne backward into the fires below; but the men of Rog leapt
even upon the coils of the serpents and came at those Balrogs and
smote them grievously, for all they had whips of Same and claws of
steel, and were in stature very great. They battered them into
nought, or catching at their whips wielded these against them,
that they tore them even as they had aforetime torn the Gnomes;
and the number of Balrogs that perished was a marvel and dread to
the hosts of Melko, for ere that day never had any of the Balrogs
been slain by the hand of Elves or Men.
Then Gothmog Lord of Balrogs gathered all his demons that
were about the city and ordered them thus: a number made for the
folk of the Hammer and gave before them, but the greater com-
pany rushing upon the flank contrived to get to their backs, higher
upon the coils of the drakes and nearer to the gates, so that Rog
might not win back save with great slaughter among his folk. But
Rog seeing this essayed not to win back, as was hoped, but with all
his folk fell on those whose part was to give before him; and they
fled before him now of dire need rather than of craft. Down into
the plain were they harried, and their shrieks rent the airs of
Tumladin. Then that house of the Hammer fared about smiting
and hewing the astonied bands of Melko till they were hemmed at
the last by an overwhelming force of the Orcs and the Balrogs, and
a fire-drake was loosed upon them. There did they perish about
Rog hewing to the last till iron and flame overcame them, and it is
yet sung that each man of the Hammer of Wrath took the lives of
seven foemen to pay for his own. Then did dread fall more heavily
still upon the Gondothlim at the death of Rog and the loss of his
battalion, and they gave back further yet into the city, and Penlod
perished there in a lane with his back to the wall, and about him
many of the men of the Pillar and many of the Tower of Snow.
Now therefore Melko's goblins held all the gate and a great part
of the walls on either side, whence numbers of the Swallow and
those of the Rainbow were thrust to doom; but within the city they
had won a great space reaching nigh to the centre, even to the
Place of the Well that adjoined the Square of the Palace. Yet about
those ways and around the gate their dead were piled in uncounted
heaps, and they halted therefore and took counsel, seeing that for
the valour of the Gondothlim they had lost many more than they
had hoped and far more than those defenders. Fearful too they
were for that slaughter Rog had done amid the Balrogs, because of
those demons they had great courage and confidence of heart.
Now then the plan that they made was to hold what they had
won, while those serpents of bronze and with great feet for
trampling climbed slowly over those of iron, and reaching the
walls there opened a breach wherethrough the Balrogs might ride
upon the dragons of flame: yet they knew this must be done with
speed, for the heats of those drakes lasted not for ever, and might
only be plenished from the wells of fire that Melko had made in the
fastness of his own land.
But even as their messengers were sped they heard a sweet
music that was played amid the host of the Gondothlim and they
feared what it might mean; and lo! there came Ecthelion and the
people of the Fountain whom Turgon till now had held in reserve,
for he watched the most of that affray from the heights of his
tower. Now marched these folk to a great playing of their flutes,
and the crystal and silver of their array was most lovely to see amid
the red light of the fires and the blackness of the ruins.
Then on a sudden their music ceased and Ecthelion of the fair
voice shouted for the drawing of swords, and before the Orcs
might foresee his onslaught the flashing of those pale blades was
amongst them. 'Tis said that Ecthelion's folk there slew more of
the goblins than fell ever in all the battles of the Eldalie with that
race, and that his name is a terror among them to this latest day,
and a warcry to the Eldar.
Now it is that Tuor and the men of the Wing fare into the fight
and range themselves beside Ecthelion and those of the Fountain,
and the twain strike mighty blows and ward each many a thrust
from the other, and harry the Orcs so that they win back almost to
the gate. But there behold a quaking and a trampling, for the
dragons labour mightily at beating a path up Amon Gwareth and
at casting down the walls of the city; and already there is a gap
therein and a confusion of masonry where the ward-towers have
fallen in ruin. Bands of the Swallow and of the Arch of Heaven
there fight bitterly amid the wreck or contest the walls to east
and west with the foe; but even as Tuor comes nigh driving the
Orcs, one of those brazen snakes heaves against the western wall
and a great mass of it shakes and falls, and behind comes a

creature of fire and Balrogs upon it. Flames gust from the jaws
of that worm and folk wither before it, and the wings of the
helm of Tuor are blackened, but he stands and gathers about him
his guard and all of the Arch and Swallow he can find, whereas
on his right Ecthelion rallies the men of the Fountain of the South.
Now the Orcs again take heart from the coming of the drakes,
and they mingle with the Balrogs that pour about the breach, and
they assail the Gondothlim grievously. There Tuor slew Othrod a
lord of the Orcs cleaving his helm, and Balcmeg he hewed asunder,
and Lug he smote with his axe that his limbs were cut from
beneath him at the knee, but Ecthelion shore through two captains
of the goblins at a sweep and cleft the head of Orcobal their
chiefest champion to his teeth; and by reason of the great
doughtiness of those two lords they came even unto the Balrogs.
Of those demons of power Ecthelion slew three, for the brightness
of his sword cleft the iron of them and did hurt to their fire, and
they writhed; yet of the leap of that axe Dramborleg that was
swung by the hand of Tuor were they still more afraid, for it sang
like the rush of eagle's wings in the air and took death as it fell, and
five of them went down before it.
But so it is that few cannot fight always against the many, and
Ecthelion's left arm got a sore rent from a whip of the Balrog's and
 his shield fell to earth even as that dragon of fire drew nigh amid
the ruin of the walls. Then Ecthelion must lean on Tuor, and
Tuor might not leave him, though the very feet of the trampling
beast were upon them, and they were like to be overborne: but
Tuor hewed at a foot of the creature so that flame spouted forth,
and that serpent screamed, lashing with its tail; and many of both
Orcs and Noldoli got their death therefrom. Now Tuor gathered
his might and lifted Ecthelion, and amid a remnant of the folk got
thereunder and escaped the drake; yet dire was the killing of men
that beast had wrought, and the Gondothlim were sorely shaken.
Thus it was that Tuor son of Peleg gave before the foe, fighting
as he yielded ground, and bore from that hattle Ecthelion of the
Fountain, but the drakes and the foemen held half the city and all
the north of it. Thence marauding bands fared about the streets
and did much ransacking, or slew in the dark men and women and
children, and many, if occasion let, they bound and led back and
flung in the iron chambers amid the dragons of iron, that they
might drag them afterward to be thralls of Melko.
Now Tuor reached the Square of the Folkwell by a way entering
from the north, and found there Galdor denying the western entry

by the Arch of Inwe to a horde of the goblins, but about him was
now but a few of those men of the Tree. There did Galdor become
the salvation of Tuor, for he fell behind his men stumbling
beneath Ecthelion over a body that lay in the dark, and the Orcs
had taken them both but for the sudden rush of that champion and
the dint of his club.
There were the scatterlings of the guard of the Wing and of
the houses of the Tree and the Fountain, and of the Swallow
and the Arch, welded to a good battalion, and by the counsel of
Tuor they gave way out of that Place of the Well, seeing that the
Square of the King that lay next was the more defensible. Now
that place had aforetime contained many beautiful trees, both oak
and poplar, around a great well of vast depth and great purity of
water; yet at that hour it was full of the riot and ugliness of those
hideous people of Melko, and those waters were polluted with
their carcases.
Thus comes the last stout gathering of those defenders in the
Square of the Palace of Turgon. Among them are many wounded
and fainting, and Tuor is weary for the labours of the night and the
weight of Ecthelion who is in a deadly swoon. Even as he led that
battalion in by the Road of Arches from the north-west (and they
had much ado to prevent any foe getting behind their backs) a
noise arose at the eastward of the square, and lo! Glorfindel is
driven in with the last of the men of the Golden Flower.
Now these had sustained a terrible conflict in the Great Market
to the east of the city, where a force of Orcs led by Balrogs came on
them at unawares as they marched by a circuitous way to the fight
about the gate. This they did to surprise the foe upon his left flank,
but were themselves ambuscaded; there fought they bitterly for
hours till a fire-drake new-come from the breach overwhelmed
them, and Glorfindel cut his way out very hardly and with few
men; but that place with its stores and its goodly things of fine
workmanship was a waste of flames.
The story tells that Turgon had sent the men of the Harp to
their aid because of the urgency of messengers from Glorfindel,
but Salgant concealed this bidding from them, saying they were to
garrison the square of the Lesser Market to the south where he
dwelt, and they fretted thereat. Now however they brake from
Salgant and were come before the king's hall; and that was very
timely, for a triumphant press of foemen was at Glorfindel's heels.
On these the men of the Harp unbidden fell with great eagerness
and utterly redeemed the cravenhood of their lord, driving the



enemy back into the market, and being leaderless fared even over
wrathfully, so that many of them were trapped in the flames or
sank before the breath of the serpent that revelled there.
Tuor now drank of the great fountain and was refreshed, and
loosening Ecthelion's helm gave him to drink, splashing his face
that his swoon left him. Now those lords Tuor and Glorfindel
clear the square and withdraw all the men they may from the
entrances and bar them with barriers, save as yet on the south.
Even from that region comes now Egalmoth. He had had charge of
the engines on the wall; but long since deeming matters to call
rather for handstrokes about the streets than shooting upon the
battlements he gathered some of the Arch and of the Swallow
about him, and cast away his bow. Then did they fare about the
city dealing good blows whenever they fell in with bands of the
enemy. Thereby he rescued many bands of captives and gathered
no few wandering and driven men, and so got to the King's Square
with hard fighting; and men were fain to greet him for they had
feared him dead. Now are all the women and children that had
gathered there or been brought in by Egalmoth stowed in the
king's halls, and the ranks of the houses made ready for the last. In
that host of survivors are some, be it however few, of all the
kindreds save of the Hammer of Wrath alone; and the king's house
is as yet untouched. Nor is this any shame, for their part was ever
to bide fresh to the last and defend the king.
But now the men of Melko have assembled their forces, and
seven dragons of fire are come with Orcs about them and Balrogs
upon them down all the ways from north, east, and west, seeking
the Square of the King. Then there was carnage at the barriers,
and Egalmoth and Tuor went from place to place of the defence,
but Ecthelion lay by the fountain; and that stand was the most
stubborn-valiant that is remembered in all the songs or in any tale.
Yet at long last a drake bursts the barrier to the north -- and there
had once been the issue of the Alley of Roses and a fair place to see
or to walk in, but now there is but a lane of blackness and it is filled
with noise.
Tuor stood then in the way of that beast, but was sundered from
Egalmoth, and they pressed him backward even to the centre of
the square nigh the fountain. There he became weary from the
strangling heat and was beaten down by a great demon, even
Gothmog lord of Balrogs, son of Melko. But lo! Ecthelion, whose
face was of the pallor of grey steel and whose shield-arm hung limp
at his side, strode above him as he fell; and that Gnome drave at


the demon, yet did not give him his death, getting rather a wound
to his sword-arm that his weapon left his grasp. Then leapt
Ecthelion lord of the Fountain, fairest of the Noldoli, full at
Gothmog even as he raised his whip, and his helm that had a spike
upon it he drave into that evil breast, and he twined his legs about
his foeman's thighs; and the Balrog yelled and fell forward; but
those two dropped into the basin of the king's fountain which was
very deep. There found that creature his bane; and Ecthelion sank
steel-laden into the depths, and so perished the lord of the Fountain
after fiery battle in cool waters.~
Now Tuor had arisen when the assault of Ecthelion gave him
space, and seeing that great deed he wept for his love of that fair
Gnome of the Fountain, but being wrapped in battle he scarce cut
his way to the folk about the palace. There seeing the wavering of
the enemy by reason of the dread of the fall of Gothmog the
marshal of the hosts, the royal house laid on and the king came
down in splendour among them and hewed with them, that they
swept again much of the square, and of the Balrogs slew even two
score, which is a very great prowess indeed: but greater still did
they do, for they hemmed in one of the Fire-drakes for all his
flaming, and forced him into the very waters of the fountain that
he perished therein. Now this was the end of that fair water; and
its pools turned to steam and its spring was dried up, and it shot no
more into the heaven, but rather a vast column of vapour arose to
the sky and the cloud therefrom floated over all the land.
Then dread fell on all for the doom of the fountain, and the square
was filled with mists of scalding heat and blinding fogs, and the
people of the royal house were killed therein by heat and by the foe
and by the serpents and by one another: but a body of them saved
the king, and there was a rally of men beneath Glingol and Bansil.
Then said the king: "Great is the fall of Gondolin", and men
shuddered, for such were the words of Amnon the prophet of
old;" but Tuor speaking wildly for ruth and love of the king cried:
"Gondolin stands yet, and Ulmo will not suffer it to perish!" Now
were they at that time standing, Tuor by the Trees and the king
upon the Stairs, as they had stood aforetime when Tuor spake the
embassy of Ulmo. But Turgon said: "Evil have I brought upon
the Flower of the Plain in despite of Ulmo, and now he leaveth it to
wither in the fire. Lo! hope is no more in my heart for my city of
loveliness, but the children of the Noldoli shall not be worsted for
ever."
Then did the Gondothlim clash their weapons, for many stood



nigh, but Turgon said: "Fight not against doom, 0 my children!
Seek ye who may safety in flight, if perhaps there be time yet: but
let Tuor have your lealty." But Tuor said: "Thou art king"; and
Turgon made answer: "Yet no blow will I strike more", and he
cast his crown at the roots of Glingol. Then did Galdor who stood
there pick it up, but Turgon accepted it not, and bare of head
climbed to the topmost pinnacle of that white tower that stood
nigh his palace. There he shouted in a voice like a horn blown
among the mountains, and all that were gathered beneath the
Trees and the foemen in the mists of the square heard him: "Great
is the victory of the Noldoli!" And 'tis said that it was then middle
night, and that the Orcs yelled in derision.
Then did men speak of a sally, and were of two minds. Many
held that it were impossible to burst through, nor might they even
so get over the plain or through the hills, and that it were better
therefore to die about the king. But Tuor might not think well of
the death of so many fair women and children, were it at the hands
of their own folk in the last resort, or by the weapons of the enemy,
and he spake of the delving and of the secret way. Therefore did he
counsel that they beg Turgon to have other mind, and coming
among them lead that remnant southward to the walls and the
entry of that passage; but he himself burnt with desire to fare
thither and know how Idril and Earendel might be, or to get
tidings hence to them and bid them begone speedily, for Gondolin
was taken. Now Tuor's plan seemed to the lords desperate indeed
-- seeing the narrowness of the tunnel and the greatness of the
company that must pass it -- yet would they fain take this rede in
their straits. But Turgon hearkened not, and bid them fare now
ere it was too late, and "Let Tuor," said he, "be your guide and
your chieftain. But I Turgon will not leave my city, and will burn
with it." Then sped they messengers again to the tower, saying:
"Sire, who are the Gondothlim if thou perish? Lead us!" But he
said: "Lo! I abide here"; and a third time, and he said: "If I am
king, obey my behests, and dare not to parley further with my
commands." After that they sent no more and made ready for the
forlorn attempt. But the folk of the royal house that yet lived
would not budge a foot, but gathered thickly about the base of the
king's tower. "Here," said they, "we will stay if Turgon goes not
forth"; and they might not be persuaded.
Now was Tuor torn sorely between his reverence for the king
and the love for Idril and his child, wherewith his heart was sick;
yet already serpents fare about the square trampling upon dead



and dying, and the foe gathers in the mists for the last onslaught;
and the choice must be made. Then because of the wailing of the
women in the halls of the palace and the greatness of his pity for
that sad remainder of the peoples of Gondolin, he gathered all that
rueful company, maids, children and mothers, and setting them
amidmost marshalled as well as he might his men around them.
Deepest he set them at flank and at rear, for he purposed falling
back southward fighting as best he might with the rearguard as he
went; and thus if it might so be to win down the Road of Pomps to
the Place of the Gods ere any great force be sent to circumvent
him. Thence was it his thought to go by the Way of Running
Waters past the Fountains of the South to the walls and to his
home; but the passage of the secret tunnel he doubted much.
Thereupon espying his movement the foe made forthwith a great
onslaught upon his left flank and his rear -- from east and north
even as he began to withdraw; but his right was covered by the
king's hall and the head of that column drew already into the Road
of Pomps.
Then some of the hugest of the drakes came on and glared in the
fog, and he must perforce bid the company to go at a run, fighting
on the left at haphazard; but Glorfindel held the rear manfully and
many more of the Golden Flower fell there. So it was that they
passed the Road of Pomps and reached Gar Ainion, the Place of
the Gods; and this was very open and at its middle the highest
ground of all the city. Here Tuor looks for an evil stand and it is
scarce in his hope to get much further; but behold, the foe seems
already to slacken and scarce any follow them, and this is a
wonder. Now comes Tuor at their head to the Place of Wedding,
and lo! there stands Idril before him with her hair unbraided as on
that day of their marriage before; and great is his amaze. By her
stood Voronwe and none other, but Idril saw not even Tuor, for
her gaze was set back upon the Place of the King that now lay
somewhat below them. Then all that host halted and looked back
whither her eyes gazed and their hearts stood still; for now they
saw why the foe pressed them so little and the reason of their
salvation. Lo! a drake was coiled even on the very steps of the
palace and defiled their whiteness; but swarms of the Orcs ran-
sacked within and dragged forth forgotten women and children or
slew men that fought alone. Glingol was withered to the stock and
Bansil was blackened utterly, and the king's tower was beset. High
up could they descry the form of the king, but about the base a
serpent of iron spouting flame lashed and rowed with his tail, and



Balrogs were round him; and there was the king's house in great
anguish, and dread cries carried up to the watchers. So was it that
the sack of the halls of Turgon and that most valiant stand of the
royal house held the mind of the foe, so that Tuor got thence with
his company, and stood now in tears upon the Place of the Gods.
Then said Idril: "Woe is me whose father awaiteth doom even
upon his topmost pinnacle; but seven times woe whose lord hath
gone down before Melko and will stride home no more!" -- for she
was distraught with the agony of that night.
Then said Tuor: "Lo! Idril, it is I, and I live; yet now will I get
thy father hence, be it from the Hells of Melko!" With that he
would make down the hill alone, maddened by the grief of his
wife; but she coming to her wits in a storm of weeping clasped his
knees saying: "My lord! My lord!" and delayed him. Yet even as
they spake a great noise and a yelling rose from that place of
anguish. Behold, the tower leapt into a flame and in a stab of fire it
fell, for the dragons crushed the base of it and all who stood there.
Great was the clangour of that terrible fall, and therein passed
Turgon King of the Gondothlim, and for that hour the victory
was to Melko.
Then said Idril heavily: "Sad is the blindness of the wise"; but
Tuor said: "Sad too is the stubbornness of those we love -- yet
'twas a valiant fault," then stooping he lifted and kissed her, for
she was more to him than all the Gondothlim; but she wept
bitterly for her father. Then turned Tuor to the captains, saying:
"Lo, we must get hence with all speed, lest we be surrounded";
and forthwith they moved onward as swiftly as they might and got
them far from thence ere the Orcs tired of sacking the palace and
rejoicing at the fall of the tower of Turgon.
Now are they in the southward city and meet but scattered
bands of plunderers who fly before them; yet do they find fire and
burning everywhere for the ruthlessness of that enemy. Women
do they meet, some with babes and some laden with chattels, but
Tuor would not let them bear away aught save a little food.
Coming now at length to a greater quiet Tuor asked Voronwe for
tidings, in that Idril spake not and was well-nigh in a swoon; and
Voronwe told him of how she and he had waited before the doors
of the house while the noise of those battles grew and shook their
hearts; and Idril wept for lack of tidings from Tuor. At length she
had sped the most part of her guard down the secret way with
Earendel, constraining them to depart with imperious words, yet
was her grief great at that sundering. She herself would bide, said

she, nor seek to live after her lord; and then she fared about
gathering womenfolk and wanderers and speeding them down the
tunnel, and smiting marauders with her small band; nor might
they dissuade her from bearing a sword.
At length they had fallen in with a band somewhat too
numerous, and Voronwe had dragged her thence but by the luck
of the Gods, for all else with them perished, and their foe burned
Tuor's house; yet found not the secret way. "Therewith," said
Voronwe, "thy lady became distraught of weariness and grief, and
fared into the city wildly to my great fear -- nor might I get her to
sally from the burning."
About the saying of these words were they come to the southern
walls and nigh to Tuor's house, and lo! it was cast down and the
wreckage was asmoke; and thereat was Tuor bitterly wroth. But
there was a noise that boded the approach of Orcs, and Tuor
despatched that company as swiftly as might be down that secret
way.
Now is there great sorrow upon that staircase as those exiles bid
farewell to Gondolin; yet are they without much hope of further
life beyond the hills, for how shall any slip from the hand of
Melko?
Glad is Tuor when all have passed the entrance and his fear
lightens; indeed by the luck of the Valar only can all those folk
have got therein unspied of the Orcs. Some now are left who
casting aside their arms labour with picks from within and block
up the entry of the passage, faring then after the host as they
might; but when that folk had descended the stairway to a level
with the valley the heat grew to a torment for the fire of the
dragons that were about the city; and they were indeed nigh, for
the delving was there at no great depth in the earth. Boulders were
loosened by the tremors of the ground and falling crushed many,
and fumes were in the air so that their torches and lanterns went
out. Here they fell over bodies of some that' had gone before and
perished, and Tuor was in fear for Earendel; and they pressed on
in great darkness and anguish. Nigh two hours were they in that
tunnel of the earth, and towards its end it was scarce finished, but
rugged at the sides and low.~
Then came they at the last lessened by wellnigh a tithe to the
tunnel's opening, and it debouched cunningly in a large basin
where once water had lain, but it was now full of thick bushes.
Here were gathered no small press of mingled folk whom Idril
and Voronwe sped down the hidden way before them, and they



were weeping softly in weariness and sorrow, but Earendel was
not there. Thereat were Tuor and Idril in anguish of heart.~
Lamentation was there too among all those others, for amidmost
of the plain about them loomed afar the hill of Amon Gwareth
crowned with flames, where had stood the gleaming city of their
home. Fire-drakes are about it and monsters of iron fare in and
out of its gates, and great is that sack of the Balrogs and Orcs.
Somewhat of comfort has this nonetheless for the leaders, for they
judge the plain to be nigh empty of Melko's folk save hard by
the city, for thither have fared all his evil ones to revel in that
destruction.
"Now," therefore said Galdor, "we must get as far hence toward
the Encircling Mountains as may be ere dawn come upon us, and
that giveth no great space of time, for summer is at hand."~ Thereat
rose a dissension, for a number said that it were folly to make for
Cristhorn as Tuor purposed. "The sun," say they, "will be up long
ere we win the foothills, and we shall be whelmed in the plain by
those drakes and those demons. Let us fare to Bad Uthwen, the
Way of Escape, for that is but half the journeying, and our weary
and our wounded may hope to win so far if no further."
Yet Idril spake against this, and persuaded the lords that they
trust not to the magic of that way that had aforetime shielded it
from discovery: "for what magic stands if Gondolin be fallen?"
 Nonetheless a large body of men and women sundered from Tuor
and fared to Bad Uthwen, and there into the jaws of a monster who
 by the guile of Melko at Meglin's rede sat at the outer issue that
none came through. But the others, led by one Legolas Greenleaf
of the house of the Tree, who knew all that plain by day or by dark,
and was night-sighted, made much speed over the vale for all their
weariness, and halted only after a great march. Then was all the
Earth spread with the grey light of that sad dawn which looked no
more on the beauty of Gondolin; but the plain was full of mists --
and that was a marvel, for no mist or fog came there ever before,
and this perchance had to do with the doom of the fountain of the
king. Again they rose, and covered by the vapours fared long past
dawn in safety, till they were already too far away for any to descry
them in those misty airs from the hill or from the ruined walls.
Now the Mountains or rather their lowest hills were on that side
seven leagues save a mile from Gondolin, and Cristhorn the Cleft
of Eagles two leagues of upward going from the beginning of the
Mountains, for it was at a great height; wherefore they had yet two
leagues and part of a third to traverse amid the spurs and foothills,

and they were very weary.~ By now the sun hung well above a
saddle in the eastern hills, and she was very red and great; and the
mists nigh them were lifted, but the ruins of Gondolin were
utterly hidden as in a cloud. Behold then at the clearing of the airs
they saw, but a few furlongs off, a knot of men that fled on foot,
and these were pursued by a strange cavalry, for on great wolves
rode Orcs, as they thought, brandishing spears. Then said Tuor:
"Lo! there is Earendel my son; behold, his face shineth as a star in
the waste,~ and my men of the Wing are about him, and they are in
sore straits." Forthwith he chose fifty of the men that were least
weary, and leaving the main company to follow he fared over the'
plain with that troop as swiftly as they had strength left. Coming
now to carry of voice Tuor shouted to the men about Earendel to
stand and flee not, for the wolfriders were scattering them and
slaying them piecemeal, and the child was upon the shoulders of
one Hendor, a house-carle of Idril's, and he seemed like to be left
with his burden. Then they stood back to back and Hendor and
Earendel amidmost; but Tuor soon came up, though all his troop
were breathless.
Of the wolfriders there were a score, and of the men that were
about Earendel but six living; therefore had Tuor opened his men
into a crescent of but one rank, and hoped so to envelop the riders,
lest any escaping bring tidings to the main foe and draw ruin upon
the exiles. In this he succeeded, so that only two escaped, and
therewithal wounded and without their beasts, wherefore were
their tidings brought too late to the city.
Glad was Earendel to greet Tuor, and Tuor most fain of his
child; but said Earendel: "I am thirsty, father, for I have run far --
nor had Hendor need to bear me." Thereto his father said nought,
having no water, and thinking of the need of all that company that
he guided; but Earendel said again: "'Twas good to see Meglin die
so, for he would set arms about my mother -- and I liked him not;
but I would travel in no tunnels for all Melko's wolfriders." Then
Tuor smiled and set him upon his shoulders. Soon after this the
main company came up, and Tuor gave Earendel to his mother
who was in a great joy; but Earendel would not be borne in her
arms, for he said: "Mother Idril, thou art weary, and warriors in
mail ride not among the Gondothlim, save it be old Salgant!" and
his mother laughed amid her sorrow; but Earendel said: "Nay,
where is Salgant?" -- for Salgant had told him quaint tales or
played drolleries with him at times, and Earendel had much
laughter of the old Gnome in those days when he came many a day



to the house of Tuor, loving the good wine and fair repast he there
received. But none could say where Salgant was, nor can they
now. Mayhap he was whelmed by fire upon his bed; yet some have
it that he was taken captive to the halls of Melko and made his
buffoon -- and this is an ill fate for a noble of the good race of the
Gnomes. Then was Earendel sad at that, and walked beside his
mother in silence.
Now came they to the foothills and it was full morning but still
grey, and there nigh to the beginning of the upward road folk
stretched them and rested in a little dale fringed with trees and
with hazel-bushes, and many slept despite their peril, for they
were utterly spent. Yet Tuor set a strict watch, and himself slept
not. Here they made one meal of scanty food and broken meats;
and Earendel quenched his thirst and played beside a little brook.
Then said he to his mother: "Mother Idril, I would we had good
Ecthelion of the Fountain here to play to me on his flute, or make
me willow-whistles! Perchance he has gone on ahead?" But Idril
said nay, and told what she had heard of his end. Then said
Earendel that he cared not ever to see the streets of Gondolin
again, and he wept bitterly; but Tuor said that he would not again
see those streets, "for Gondolin is no more".
Thereafter nigh to the hour of sundown behind the hills Tuor
bade the company arise, and they pressed on by rugged paths.
Soon now the grass faded and gave way to mossy stones, and trees
fell away, and even the pines and firs grew sparse. About the set of
the sun the way so wound behind a shoulder of the hilIs that they
might not again look toward Gondolin. There all that company
turned, and lo! the plain is clear and smiling in the last light
as of old; but afar off as they gazed a great flare shot up against
the darkened north -- and that was the fall of the last tower of
Gondolin, even that which had stood hard by the southern gate,
and whose shadow fell oft across the walls of Tuor's house. Then
sank the sun, and they saw Gondolin no more.
Now the pass of Cristhorn, that is the Eagles' Cleft, is one of
dangerous going, and that host had not ventured it by dark,
lanternless and without torches, and very weary and cumbered
with women and children and sick and stricken men, had it not
been for their great fear of Melko's scouts, for it was a great
company and might not fare very secretly. Darkness gathered
rapidly as they approached that high place, and they must string
out into a long and straggling line. Galdor and a band of men
spear-armed went ahead, and Legolas was with them, whose eyes

were like cats' for the dark, yet could they see further. Thereafter
followed the least weary of the women supporting the sick and the
wounded that could go on foot. Idril was with these, and Earendel
who bore up well, but Tuor was in the midmost behind them with
all his men of the Wing, and they bare some who were grievously
hurt, and Egalmoth was with him, but he had got a hurt in that
sally from the square. Behind again came many women with
babes, and girls, and lamed men, yet was the going slow enough
for them. At the rearmost went the largest band of men battle-
whole, and there was Glorfindel of the golden hair.
Thus were they come to Cristhorn, which is an ill place by
reason of its height, for this is so great that spring nor summer
come ever there, and it is very cold. Indeed while the valley dances
in the sun, there all the year snow dwells in those bleak places, and
even as they came there the wind howled, coming from the north
behind them, and it bit sorely. Snow fell and whirled in wind-
eddies and got into their eyes, and this was not good, for there the
path is narrow, and of the right or westerly hand a sheer wall rises
nigh seven chains from the way, ere it bursts atop into jagged
pinnacles where are many eyries. There dwells Thorndor King of
Eagles, Lord of the Thornhoth, whom the Eldar named Sorontur.
But of the other hand is a fall not right sheer yet dreadly steep, and
it has long teeth of rock up-pointing so that one may climb down --
or fall maybe -- but by no means up. And from that deep is no
escape at either end any more than by the sides, and Thorn Sir
runs at bottom. He falls therein from the south over a great
precipice but with a slender water, for he is a thin stream in those
heights, and he issues to the north after flowing but a rocky-mile
above ground down a narrow passage that goes into the mountain,
and scarce a fish could squeeze through with him.
Galdor and his men were come now to the end nigh to where
Thorn Sir falls into the abyss, and the others straggled, for all
Tuor's efforts, back over most of the mile of the perilous way
between chasm and cliff, so that Glorfindel's folk were scarce
come to its beginning, when there was a yell in the night that
echoed in that grim region. Behold, Galdor's men were beset in
the dark suddenly by shapes leaping from behind rocks where they
had lain hidden even from the glance of Legolas. It was Tuor's
thought that they had fallen in with one of Melko's ranging
companies, and he feared no more than a sharp brush in the dark,
yet he sent the women and sick around him rearward and joined
his men to Galdor's, and there was an affray upon the perilous

path. But now rocks fell from above, and things looked ill, for they
did grievous hurt; but matters seemed to Tuor yet worse when the
noise of arms came from the rear, and tidings were said to him by a
man of the Swallow that Glorfindel was ill bested by men from
behind, and that a Balrog was with them.
Then was he sore afraid of a trap, and this was even what had in
truth befallen; for watchers had been set by Melko all about the
encircling hills. Yet so many did the valour of the Gondothlim
draw off to the assault ere the city could be taken that these were
 but thinly spread, and were at the least here in the south. None-
theless one of these had espied the company as they started the
 upward going from the dale of hazels, and as many bands were got
together against them as might be, and devised to fall upon the
exiles to front and rear even upon the perilous way of Cristhorn.
Now Galdor and Glorfindel held their own despite the surprise of
assault, and many of the Orcs were struck into the abyss; but the
falling of the rocks was like to end all their valour, and the flight
from Gondolin to come to ruin. The moon about that hour rose
 above the pass, and the.gloom somewhat lifted, for his pale light
 filtered into dark places; yet it lit not the path for the height of the
walls. Then arose Thorndor, King of Eagles, and he loved not
Melko, for Melko had caught many of his kindred and chained
 them against sharp rocks to squeeze from them the magic words
 whereby he might learn to fly (for he dreamed of contending even
against Manwe in the air); and when they would not tell he cut off
 their wings and sought to fashion therefrom a mighty pair for his
use, but it availed not.
Now when the clamour from the pass rose to his great eyrie he
said: "Wherefore are these foul things, these Orcs of the hills,
 climbed near to my throne; and why do the sons of the Noldoli cry
out in the low places for fear of the children of Melko the accursed?
 Arise O Thornhoth, whose beaks are of steel and whose talons
'. swords!"
Thereupon there was a rushing like a great wind in rocky places,
 and the Thornhoth, the people of the Eagles, fell on those Orcs
who had scaled above the path, and tore their faces and their hands
 and flung them to the rocks of Thorn Sir far below. Then were
 the Gondothlim glad, and they made in after days the Eagle
a sign of their kindred in token of their joy, and Idril bore it,
but Earendel loved rather the Swan-wing of his father. Now
unhampered Galdor's men bore back those that opposed them,
for they were not very many and the onset of the Thornhoth



affrighted them much; and the company fared forward again,
though Glorfindel had fighting enough in the rear. Already the
half had passed the perilous way and the falls of Thorn Sir, when
that Balrog that was with the rearward foe leapt with great might
on certain lofty rocks that stood into the path on the left side upon
the lip of the chasm, and thence with a leap of fury he was past
Glorfindel's men and among the women and the sick in front,
lashing with his whip of flame. Then Glorfindel leapt forward
upon him and his golden armour gleamed strangely in the moon,
and he hewed at that demon that it leapt again upon a great
boulder and Glorfindel after. Now there was a deadly combat
upon that high rock above the folk; and these, pressed behind and
hindered ahead, were grown so close that well nigh all could see,
yet was it over ere Glorfindel's men could leap to his side. The
ardour of Glorfindel drave that Balrog from point to point, and his
mail fended him from its whip and claw. Now had he beaten a
heavy swinge upon its iron helm, now hewn off the creature's
whip-arm at the elbow. Then sprang the Balrog in the torment of
his pain and fear full at Glorfindel, who stabbed like a dart of a
snake; but he found only a shoulder, and was grappled, and they
swayed to a fall upon the crag-top. Then Glorfindel's left hand
sought a dirk, and this he thrust up that it pierced the Balrog's
belly nigh his own face (for that demon was double his stature);
and it shrieked, and fell backwards from the rock, and falling
clutched Glorfindel's yellow locks beneath his cap, and those
twain fell into the abyss.
Now was this a very grievous thing, for Glorfindel was most
dearly beloved -- and lo! the dint of their fall echoed about the
hills, and the abyss of Thorn Sir rang. Then at the death-cry of
the Balrog the Orcs before and behind wavered and were slain or
fled far away, and Thorndor himself, a mighty bird, descended to
the abyss and brought up the body of Glorfindel; but the Balrog
lay, and the water of Thorn Sir ran black for many a day far below
in Tumladin.
Still do the Eldar say when they see good fighting at great odds
of power against a fury of evil: "Alas! 'Tis Glorfindel and the
Balrog", and their hearts are still sore for that fair one of
the Noldoli. Because of their love, despite the haste and their fear
of the advent of new foes, Tuor let raise a great stone-cairn over
Glorfindel just there beyond the perilous way by the precipice
of Eagle-stream, and Thorndor has let not yet any harm come
thereto, but yellow flowers have fared thither and blow ever now

about that mound in those unkindly places; but the folk of the
Golden Flower wept at its building and might not dry their tears.
Now who shall tell of the wanderings of Tuor and the exiles of
Gondolin in the wastes that lie beyond the mountains to the south
of the vale of Tumladin? Miseries were theirs and death, colds and
hungers, and ceaseless watches. That they won ever through those
regions infested by Melko's evil came from the great slaughter and
damage done to his power in that assault, and from the speed and
wariness with which Tuor led them; for of a certain Melko knew of
that escape and was furious thereat. Ulmo had heard tidings in the
far oceans of the deeds that were done, but he could not yet aid
them for they were far from waters and rivers -- and indeed they
, thirsted sorely, and they knew not the way.
But after a year and more of wandering, in which many a time
they journeyed long tangled in the magic of those wastes only to
come again upon their own tracks, once more the summer came,
and nigh to its height" they came at last upon a stream, and
following this came to better lands and were a little comforted.
Here did Voronwe guide them, for he had caught a whisper of
 Ulmo's in that stream one late summer's night -- and he got ever
much wisdom from the sound of waters. Now he led them even till
they came down to Sirion which that stream fed, and then both
Tuor and Voronwe saw that they were not far from the outer issue
 of old of the Way of Escape, and were once more in that deep
 dale of alders. Here were all the bushes trampled and the trees
burnt, and the dale-wall scarred with flame, and they wept, for
 they thought they knew the fate of those who sundered aforetime
from them at the tunnel-mouth.
Now they journeyed down that river but were again in fear from
 Melko, and fought affrays with his Orc-bands and were in peril
 from the wolfriders, but his firedrakes sought not at them, both
 for the great exhaustion of their fires in the taking of Gondolin,
 and the increasing power of Ulmo as the river grew. So came they
 after many days -- for they went slowly and got their sustenance
very hardly -- to those great heaths and morasses above the Land of
 Willows, and Voronwe knew not those regions. Now here goes
 Sirion a very great way under earth, diving at the great cavern of
 the Tumultuous Winds, but running clear again above the Pools
of Twilight, even where Tulkas' after fought with Melko's self.
Tuor had fared over these regions by night and dusk after Ulmo
came to him amid the reeds, and he remembered not the ways. In



places that land is full of deceits and very marshy; and here the
host had long delay and was vexed by sore flies, for it was autumn
still, and agues and fevers fared amongst them, and they cursed
Melko.
Yet came they at last to the great pools and the edges of that
most tender Land of Willows; and the very breath of the winds
thereof brought rest and peace to them, and for the comfort of that
place the grief was assuaged of those who mourned the dead in that
great fall. There women and maids grew fair again and their sick
were healed, and old wounds ceased to pain; yet they alone who of
reason feared their folk living still in bitter thraldom in the Hells of
Iron sang not, nor did they smile.
Here they abode very long indeed, and Earendel was a grown
boy ere the voice of Ulmo's conches drew the heart of Tuor, that
his sea-longing returned with a thirst the deeper for years of
stifling; and all that host arose at his bidding, and got them down
Sirion to the Sea.
Now the folk that had passed into the Eagles' Cleft and who saw
the fall of Glorfindel had been nigh eight hundreds -- a large
wayfaring, yet was it a sad remnant of so fair and numerous
a city. But they who arose from the grasses of the Land of
Willows in years after and fared away to sea, when spring set
celandine in the meads and they had held sad festival in memorial
of Glorfindel, these numbered but three hundreds and a score of
men and man-children, and two hundreds and three score of
women and maid-children. Now the number of women was few
because of their hiding or being stowed by their kinsfolk in secret
places in the city. There they were burned or slain or taken and
enthralled, and the rescue-parties found them too seldom; and it is
the greatest ruth to think of this, for the maids and women of the
Gondothlim were as fair as the sun and as lovely as the moon and
brighter than the stars. Glory dwelt in that city of Gondolin of the
Seven Names, and its ruin was the most dread of all the sacks of
cities upon the face of Earth. Nor Bablon, nor Ninwi, nor the
towers of Trui, nor all the many takings of Rum that is greatest
among Men, saw such terror as fell that day upon Amon Gwareth
in the kindred of the Gnomes; and this is esteemed the worst work
that Melko has yet thought of in the world.
Yet now those exiles of Gondolin dwelt at the mouth of Sirion
by the waves of the Great Sea. There they take the name of
Lothlim, the people of the flower, for Gondothlim is a name too
sore to their hearts; and fair among the Lothlim Earendel grows in


the house of his father,~ and the great tale of Tuor is come to its
waning.'
Then said Littleheart son of Bronweg: 'Alas for Gondolin.'
And no one in all the Room of Logs spake or moved for a great
while.
NOTES.
Not of course the great journey to the Sea from the Waters of
Awakening, but the expedition of the Elves of Kor for the rescue of
the Gnomes (see I. 26).
2. A korin is defined in The Cottage of Lost Play (I. 16) as 'a great
circular hedge, be it of stone or of thorn or even of trees, that
encloses a green sward'; Meril-i-Turinqi dwelt 'in a great korin of
elms'.
3. Ton a Gwedrin is the Tale-fire.
4. There is here a direction: 'See hereafter the Nauglafring', but this is
struck out.
5. On Heorrenda see pp. 290ff, 323. A small space is left after the
words 'it is thus' to mark the place of the poem in Old English that
was to be inserted, but there is no indication of what it was to be.
(In the following notes 'the original reading' refers to the
text of Tuor A, and of Tuor B before the emendation in
question. It does not imply that the reading of Tuor A was,
or was not, found in the original pencilled text (in the great
majority of cases this cannot be said) .)
6. This passage, beginning with the words 'And Tuor entered that
cavern...' on p. 149, is a late replacement written on a slip (see
p. 147). The original passage was largely similar in meaning, but
contained the following:
Now in delving that riverway beneath the hills the Noldoli
worked unknown to Melko who in those deep days held them yet
hidden and thralls beneath his will. Rather were they prompted
by Ulmo who strove ever against Melko; and through Tuor he
hoped to devise for the Gnomes release from the terror of the evil
of Melko.
7. 'three days': 'three years' all texts, but 'days? ' pencilled above 'years'
in Tuor B.
The 'evolution' of sea-birds through Osse is described in the tale of
The Coming of the Elves, I.123; but the sentence here derives
from the original pencilled text of Tuor A.
In the typescript Tuor C a blank was left here (see p. 147) and
subsequently filled in with 'Ulmo', not 'Ainur'.



10.
13.
14.
The original reading was: 'Thou Tuor of the lonely heart the Valar
will not to dwell for ever in fair places of birds and flowers; nor
would they lead thee through this pleasant land...'11.
Tuor C adds here: 'with Ulmo's aid'.12.
The reference to the Battle of Unnumbered Tears is a later addition
to Tuor B. The original reading was: 'who alone escaped Melko's
power when he caught their folk...'
In Tuor A and B Vomnwe is used throughout, but this phrase, with
the form Bronweg, is an addition to Tuor 8 (replacing the original
'Now after many days these twain found a deep dale').
The typescript Tuor C has here:
... that none, were they not of the blood of the Noldoli, might
light on it, neither by chance nor agelong search. Thus was
it secure from all ill hap save treachery alone, and never would
Tur have won thereto but for the steadfastness of that Gnome
Voronwe.
15.
16.
17.
18.
In the next sentence Tuor C has 'yet even so no few of the bolder of
the Gnomes enthralled would slip down the river Sirion from the
fell mountains'.
The original reading was: 'his speech they comprehended, though
somewhat different was the tongue of the free Noldoli by those days
to that of the sad thralls of Melko.' The typescript Tuor C has: 'they
comprehended him for they were Noldoli. Then spake Tur also in
the same tongue...'
The original reading was: 'It was early morn when they drew near
the gates and many eyes gazed...' But when Tuor and Voronwe
first saw Gondolin it was 'in the new light of the morning' (p. 158),
and it was 'a day's light march' across the plain; hence the change:.'
made later to Tuor B.
'Evil One': original reading 'Ainu'.
This passage, from 'Rugged was his aspect...', is a replacement on
a separate slip; the original text was:
Tuor was goodly in countenance but rugged and unkempt
of locks and clad in the skins of bears, yet his stature,
was not overgreat among his own folk, but the Gondothlim,,-
though not bent as were no few of their kin who laboured at
ceaseless delving and hammering for Melko, were small and
slender and lithe.
19.
20.
In the original passage Men are declared to be of their nature taller
than the Elves of Gondolin. See pp. 142, 2oo.
'come hither'. 'escaped from Melko' Tuor C.
'folk': original reading 'men'. This is the only place where 'men' in
reference to Elves is changed. The use is constant in The Fall of
Gondolin, and even occurs once in an odd-sounding reference to


the hosts of Melko: 'But now the men of Melko have assembled their
forces' (p. 183).
The passage ending here and beginning with the words 'Then
Tuor's heart was heavy...' on p. 16z was bracketed by my father in
Tuor B, and on a loose slip referring to this bracketed passage he
wrote:
(If nec[essary]): Then is told how Idril daughter of the king
added her words to the king's wisdom so that Turgon bid Tuor
rest himself awhile in Gondolin, and being forewise prevailed on
him [to] abide there in the end. How he came to love the daughter
of the king, Idril of the Silver Feet, and how he was taught deeply
in the lore of that great folk and learned of its history and the
history of the Elves. How Tuor grew in wisdom and mighty in the
counsels of the Gondothlim.
22.
The only narrative difference here from the actual text lies in
the introduction of the king's daughter Idril as an influence on
Tuor's decision to remain in Gondolin. The passage is otherwise an
extremely abbreviated summary of the account of Tuor's instruc-
tion in Gondolin, with omission of what is said in the text about the
preparations of the Gondothlim against attack; but I do not think
that this was a proposal for shortening the written tale. Rather, the
words 'If necessary' suggest strongly that my father had in mind
only a reduction for oral delivery -- and that was when it was read to
the Exeter College Essay Club in the spring of 1920; see p. I47.
Another proposed shortening is given in note 32.
This passage, beginning 'Great love too had Idril for Tuor...', was
written on a separate slip and replaced the original text as follows:
The king hearing of this, and,finding that his child Idril, whom
the Eldar speak of as Irilde, loved Tuor in return, he consented to
their being wed, seeing that he had no son, and Tuor was like to
make a kinsman of strength and consolation. There were Idril and
Tuor wed before the folk in that Place of the Gods, Gar Ainion,
nigh the king's palace; and that was a day of mirth to the city of
Gondolin, but of (&c.)
3.
The replacement states that the marriage of Tuor and Idril was the
first but not the last of the unions of Man and Elf, whereas it is said
in the Name-list to The Fall of Condolin that Earendel was 'the
only being that is half of the kindred of the Eldalie and half of Men'
(see p. 215).2
The phrase 'and that tale of Isfin and Eol may not here be told' was
added to Tuor B. See p. 220.
Original reading. "a name wrought of the tongue of the Gondothlim'.
25.
The sapphires given to Manwe by the Noldoli are referred to in the


26.
tale of The Coming of the Elves, I. 128. The original pencilled text
of Tuor A can be read here: 'bluer than the sapphires of Sulimo'.
The passage ending here and beginning with 'In these ways that
bitter winter passed...' is inserted on a separate sheet in Tuor B
(but is not part of the latest layer of emendation); it replaces a much
shorter passage going back to the primary text of Tuor A:
Now on midwinter's day at early even the sun sank betimes
beyond the mountains, and lo! when she had gone a light
arose beyond the hills to the north, and men marvelled (&c.)
27.
28.
29.
30.
31.
 32.
See notes 34 and 37.
The Scarlet Heart: the heart of Finwe Noleme, Turgon's father,
was cut out by Orcs in the Battle of Unnumbered Tears, but it was
regained by Turgon and became his emblem; see I. 241 and note 11.
This passage describing the array and the emblems of the houses of
the Gondothlim was relatively very little affected by the later
revision of Tuor A; the greater part of it is in the original pencilled
text, which was allowed to stand, and all the names appear to be
original.
The word 'burg' is used in the Old English sense of a walled and
fortified town.
The death of Ecthelion in the primary text of Tuor A is legible; the
revision introduced a few changes of wording, but no more.
This sentence, from 'and men shuddered', was added to Tuor B. On
the prophecy see I. 172.
Tuor B is bracketed from 'Now comes Tuor at their head to the Place
of Wedding' on p. 186 to this point, and an inserted slip relating to
this bracketing reads:
How Tuor and his folk came upon Idril wandering distraught in
the Place of the Gods. How Tuor and Idril from that high place
saw the sack of the King's Hall and the ruin of the King's Tower
and the passing of the king, for which reason the foe followed not
after. How Tuor heard tidings of Voronwe that Idril had sent
Earendel and her guard down the hidden way, and fared into the
city in search of her husband; how in peril from the enemy they
had rescued many that fled and sent them down the secret way.
How Tuor led his host with the luck of the Gods to the mouth of
that passage, and how all descended into the plain, sealing the
entrance utterly behind them. How the sorrowful company issued
into a dell in the vale of Tumladin.
33.
This is simply a summary of the text as it stands; I suppose it was a '
cut proposed for the recitation of the tale if that seemed to be taking
too long (see note 21).
This passage, from 'Here were gathered...', replaced in Tuor B the
original reading: 'Here they are fain to rest, but finding no signs of .

34.
35.
Earendel and his escort Tuor is downcast, and Idril weeps.' This
was rewritten partly for narrative reasons, but also to put it into
the past tense. In the next sentence the text was emended from
'Lamentation is there...' and 'about them looms...' But the
sentence following ('Fire-drakes are about it...') was left
untouched; and I think that it was my father's intention, only
casually indicated and never carried through, to reduce the amount
of 'historical present' in the narrative.
'for summer is at hand': the original reading was 'albeit it is winter'.
See notes 26 and 37.
The original reading was:
Now the Mountains were on that side seven leagues save a mile
from Gondolin, and Cristhorn the Cleft of Eagles another league
of upward going from the beginning of the Mountains; wherefore
they were now yet two leagues and part of a third from the pass,
and very weary thereto.
36.
37.
38.
39.
'Behold, his face shineth as a star in the waste' was added to Tuor B.
This passage, from 'But after a year and more of wandering...',
replaced the original reading 'But after a half-year's wandering, nigh
midsummer'. This emendation depends on the changing of the time
of the attack on Gondolin from midwinter to the 'Gates of Summer'
(see notes 26 and 34). Thus in the revised version summer is
retained as the season when the exiles came to the lands about
Sirion, but they spent a whole year and more, rather than a half-
year, to reach them.
'even where Tulkas': original reading: 'even where Noldorin and
Tulkas'. See pp. 278 -- 9.
The original pencilled text of Tuor A had 'Fair among the Lothlim
grows Earendel in Sornontur the house of Tuor'. The fourth letter
of this name could as well be read as a u.
Changes made to names in
The Fall of Gondolin.
Ilfiniol ( Elfriniol in the first three occurrences of the name in the
initial linking passage, Ilfiniol so written at the fourth.
(In The Cottage of Lost Play (I. 15) the Gong-warden of Mar
Vanwa Tyalieva is named only Littleheart; in the Link to
The Music of the Ainur his Elvish name is Ilverin < Elwenildo
(I. 46, 52); and in the Link to the Tale of Tinuviel he is llfiniol <
Elfriniol as here, while the typescript has Ilfrin (p. 7).
In the head-note to the Name-list to The Fall of Gondolin he is
Elfrith < Elfriniel, and this is the only place where the meaning of
the name 'Littleheart' is explained (p. 148); the Name-list has an


entry 'Elf meaneth "heart" (as Elfin Elben): Elfrith is Littleheart
(see I. 255, entry llverin). In another projected list of names,
abandoned after only a couple of entries had been made, we meet
again the form Elfrith, and also Elbenil > Eltoenil.
This constant changing of name is to be understood in relation to
swiftly changing phonological ideas and formulations, but even so is
rather extraordinary.)
In the following notes it is to be understood, for brevity's
sake, that names in Tuor B (before emendation) are found
in the same form in Tuor A; e.g. 'Mithrim < Asgon in Tuor B'
implies that Tuor A has Asgon (unchanged).
Tuor Although sometimes emended to Tur in Tuor 8, and invariably
written Tur in the typescript Tuor C, I give Tuor throughout; see
p.148.
Dor Lomin This name was so written from the first in Tuor B. Tuor A
has, at the first three occurrences, Aryador > Mathusdor; at the
fourth, Aryador > Mathusdor > Dor Lomin.
Mithrim < Asgon throughout Tuor 8; Tuor C has Asgon unchanged.
Glorfalc or Cris Ilbranteloth (p. 150) Tuor A has Glorfalc or Teld
Quing Ilon; Tuor B as written had no Elvish names, Glorfalc or
Cris Ilbranteloth being a later addition.
Ainur As in the first draft of The Music of the Ainur (I.61) the
original text of Tuor A had Ainu plural.
Falasquil At both occurrences (p. 152) in Tuor A this replaces the
original name now illegible but beginning with Q; in Tuor B my
mother left blanks and added the name later in pencil; in Tuor C
blanks are left in the typescript and not filled in.
Arlisgion This name was added later to Tuor B.
Orcs Tuor A and 8 had Orqui throughout; my father emended this in
Tuor B to Orcs, but not consistently, and in the later part of the
tale not at all. In one place only (p. 193, in Thorndor's speech)
both texts have Orcs (also Orc-bands p. 195). As with the name
Tuor/Tur I give throughout the form that was to prevail.
At the only occurrence of the singular the word is written with a k
in both Tuor A and 8 ('Ork's blood', p. 165).
Car Thurion < Gar Furion in Tuor B (Gar Furion in Tuor C).
Loth < Los in Tuor B (Los in Tuor C).
Lothengriol ( Losengriol in Tuor B (Losengriol in Tuor C).
Taniquetil At the occurrence on p. 161 there was added in the original
text of Tuor A: (Danigwiel), but this was struck out.
Kor Against this name (p. 161) is pencilled in Tuor B: Tun. See I. 222,
II. 292.
Car Ainion < Gar Ainon in Tuor B (p. 164; at the occurrence on
p. 186 not emended, but I read Car Ainion in both places).
Nost-na-Lothion ( Nost-na-Lossion in Tuor B.

Duilin At the first occurrence (p. 173) < Duliglin in the original text of
Tuor A.
Rog In Tuor A spelt Rog in the earlier occurrences, Rog in the later; in
Tuor B spelt Rog throughout but mostly emended later to Rog.
Dramborleg At the occurrence on p. 181 < Drambor in the original
text of Tuor A.
Bansil At the occurrence on p. 184 only, Bansil > Banthil in Tuor B.
Cristhorn From the first occurrence on p. 189 written Cristhorn (not
Cris Thorn) in Tuor A; Cris Thorn Tuor B throughout.
Bad Uthwen < Bad Uswen in Tuor B. The original reading in Tuor A
was (apparently) Bad Usbran.
Sorontur ( Ramandur in Tuor B.
Bablon, Ninwi, Trui, Rum The original text of Tuor A had Babylon,
Nirteveh, Troy, and (probably) Rome. These were changed to the
forms given in the text, except Nineveh > Ninwe, changed to
Ninwi in Tuor B.
Commentary on
The Fall of Condolin.
$ 1. The primary narrative.
As with the Tale of Turambar I break my commentary on this tale into
 sections. I refer frequently to the much later version (which extends only
to the coming of Tuor and Voronwe to sight of Gondolin across the
plain) printed in Unfinished Tales pp. 17 -- 5I ('Of Tuor and his Coming
to Gondolin'); this I shall call here 'the later Tuor.'.
(i) Tuor's journey to the Sea and the visitation
of Ulmo (pp. 14g -- 56).
In places the later Tuor (the abandonment of which is one of the saddest
facts in the whole history of incompletion) is so close in wording to The
 Fall of Condolin, written more than thirty years before, as to make it
almost certain that my father had it in front of him, or at least had
recently reread it. Striking examples from the late version (pp. 23 -- 4)
are: 'The sun rose behind his back and set before his face, and where the
water foamed among the boulders or rushed over sudden falls, at morning
and evening rainbows were woven across the stream'; 'Now he said: "It is
a fay-voice," now: "Nay, it is a small beast that is wailing in the waste"';
'[Tuor] wandered still for some days in a rugged country bare of trees;
and it was swept by a wind from the sea, and all that grew there, herb or
bush, leaned ever to the dawn because of the prevalence of that wind
from the West' -- which are very closely similar to or almost identical with

passages in the tale (pp. 150 -- 1). But the differences in the narrative are
profound.
Tuor's origin is left vague in the old story. There is a reference in the
Tale of Turambar (p. 88) to 'those kindreds about the waters of Asgon
whence after arose Tuor son of Peleg', but here it is said that Tuor did not
dwell with his people (who 'wandered the forests and fells') but 'lived
alone about that lake called Mithrim [< Asgon]', on which he journeyed
in a small boat with a prow made like the neck of a swan. There is indeed
scarcely any linking reference to other events, and of course no trace of
the Grey-elves of Hithlum who in the later story fostered him, or of his
outlawry and hunting by the Easterlings; but there are 'wandering
Noldoli in Dor Lomin (Hisilome, Hithlum) -- on whom see p. 65 --
from whom Tuor learnt much, including their tongue, and it was they
who guided him down the dark river-passage under the mountains.
There is in this a premonition of Gelmir and Arminas, the Noldorin
Elves who guided Tuor through the Gate of the Noldor (later Tuor
pp. 21--2), and the story that the Noldoli 'made that hidden way at
the prompting of Ulmo' survived in the much richer historical context
of the later legend, where 'the Gate of the Noldor... was made by the
skill of that people, long ago in the days of Turgon' (later Tuor p. 18).
The later Tuor becomes very close to the old story for a time when
Tuor emerges out of the tunnel into the ravine (later called Cirith
Ninniach, but still a name of Tuor's own devising); many features recur,
such as the stars shining in the 'dark lane of sky above him', the echoes
of his harping (in the tale of course without the literary echoes of
Morgoth's cry and the voices of Feanor's host that landed there), his
doubt concerning the mournful calling of the gulls, the narrowing of
the ravine where the incoming tide (fierce because of the west wind)
met the water of the river, and Tuor's escape by climbing to the cliff-top
(but in the tale the connection between Tuor's curiosity concerning the
gulls and the saving of his life is not made: he climbed the cliff in
response to the prompting of the Ainur). Notable is the retention of
the idea that Tuor was the first of Men to reach the Sea, standing on the
cliff-top with outspread arms, and of his 'sea-longing' (later Tuor p. 25).
But the story of his dwelling in the cove of Falasquil and his adornment of
it with carvings (and of course the floating of timber down the river to
him by the Noldoli of Dor Lomin) was abandoned; in the later legend
Tuor finds on the coast ruins of the ancient harbour-works of the Noldor
from the days of Turgon's lordship in Nevrast, and of Turgon's former
dwelling in these regions before he went to Gondolin there is in the old
story no trace. Thus the entire Vinyamar episode is absent from it, and
despite the frequent reminder that Ulmo was guiding Tuor as the
instrument of his designs, the essential element in the later legend of
the arms left for him by Turgon on Ulmo's instruction (?he Silmarillion
pp. 126, 238 -- g) is lacking.
The southward-flying swans (seven, not three, in the later Tuor) play

essentially the same part in both narratives, drawing Tuor to continue his
journey; but the emblem of the Swan was afterwards given a different
origin, as 'the token of Annael and his foster-folk', the Grey-elves of
Mithrim (later Tuor p. 25).
Both in the route taken (for the geography see p. 217) and in the
seasons of the year my father afterwards departed largely from the
original story of Tuor's journey to Gondolin. In the later Tuor it was the
Fell Winter after the fall of Nargothrond, the winter of Turin's return to
Hithlum, when he and Voronwe journeyed in snow and bitter cold
eastwards beneath the Mountains of Shadow. Here the journey takes far
longer: he left Falasquil in 'the latest days of summer' (as still in the later
Tuor) but he went down all the coast of Beleriand to the mouths of
Sirion, and it was the summer of the following year when he lingered in
the Land of Willows. (Doubtless the geography was less definite than it
afterwards became, but its general resemblance to the later map seems
assured by the description (p. 153) of the coast's trending after a time
eastwards rather than southwards.)
Only in its place in the narrative structure is there resemblance between
Ulmo's visitation of Tuor in the Land of Willows in a summer twilight
and his tremendous epiphany out of the rising storm on the coast at
Vinyamar. It is however most remarkable that the old vision of the Land
of Willows and its drowsy beauty of river-flowers and butterflies was not
lost, though afterwards it was Voronwe, not Tuor, who wandered there,
devising names, and who stood enchanted 'knee-deep in the grass'
(p. 155; later Tuor p. 35), until his fate, or Ulmo Lord of Waters, carried
him down to the Sea. Possibly there is a faint reminiscence of the old
story in Ulmo's words (later Tuor p. 28): 'Haste thou must learn, and the
pleasant road that I designed for thee must be changed.'
In the tale, Ulmo's speech to Tuor (or at least that part of it that is
reported) is far more simple and brief, and there is no suggestion there of
Ulmo's 'opposing the will of his brethren, the Lords of the West'; but two
essential elements of his later message are present, that Tuor will find the
words to speak when he stands before Turgon, and the reference to
Tuor's unborn son (in the later Tuor much less explicit: 'But it is not for
thy valour only that I send thee, but to bring into the world a hope
beyond thy sight, and a light that shall pierce the darkness').
(ii) The journey of Tuor and Voronwe to Gondolin (pp. 156 -- 8)
Of Tuor's journey to Gondolin, apart from his sojourn in the Land of
Willows, little is told in the tale, and Voronwe only appears late in its
course as the one Noldo who was not too fearful to accompany him
further; of Voronwe's history as afterwards related there is no word, and
he is not an Elf of Gondolin.
It is notable that the Noldoli who guided Tuor northwards from the
Land of Willows call themselves thralls of Melko. On this matter

the Tales present a consistent picture. It is said in the Tale of Tinuviel
(p. 9) that
all the Eldar both those who remained in the dark or who had been lost
upon the march from Palisor and those Noldoli too who fared back into
the world after [Melko] seeking their stolen treasury fell beneath his
power as thralls.
In The Fall of Condolin it is said that the Noldoli did their service to
Ulmo in secret, and 'out of fear of Melko wavered much' (p. 154), and
Voronwe spoke to Tuor of 'the weariness of thraldom' (pp. 156 -- 7);
Melko sent out his army of spies 'to search out the dwelling of the Noldoli
that had escaped his thraldom' (p. 166). These 'thrall-Noldoli' are repre-
sented as moving as it were freely about the lands, even to the mouths of
Sirion, but they 'wandered as in a dream of fear, doing [Melko's] ill
bidding, for the spell of bottomless dread was on them and they felt the
eyes of Melko burn them from afar' (Tale of Turambar, p. 77). This
expression is often used: Voronwe rejoiced in Gondolin that he no longer
dreaded Melko with 'a binding terror' -- 'and of a sooth that spell which
Melko held over the Noldoli was one of bottomless dread, so that he
seemed ever nigh them even were they far from the Hells of Iron, and
their hearts quaked and they fled not even when they could' (p. 159). The
spell of bottomless dread was laid too on Meglin (p. 16g).
There is little in all this that cannot be brought more or less into
harmony with the later narratives, and indeed one may hear an echo in
the words of The Silmarillion (p. 156):
But ever the Noldor feared most the treachery of those of their own
kin, who had been thralls in Angband; for Morgoth used some of these
for his evil purposes, and feigning to give them liberty sent them
abroad, but their wills were chained to his, and they strayed only to
come back to him again.
Nonetheless one gains the impression that at that time my father pictured
the power of Melko when at its height as operating more diffusedly
and intangibly, and perhaps also more universally, in the Great Lands.
Whereas in The Silmarillion the Noldor who are not free are prisoners in
Angband (whence a few may escape, and others with enslaved wills may
be sent out), here all save the Gondothlim are 'thralls', controlled by
Melko from afar, and Melko asserts that the Noldoli are all, by their very
existence in the Great Lands, his slaves by right. It is a difference
difficult to define, but that there is a difference may be seen in the
improbability, for the later story, of Tuor being guided on his way to
Gondolin by Noldor who were in any sense slaves of Morgoth.
The entrance to Gondolin has some general similarity to the far fuller
and more precisely visualised account in the later Tuor: a deep river-

gorge, tangled bushes, a cave-mouth -- but the river is certainly Sirion
(see the passage at the end of the tale, p. 195, where the exiles come back
to the entrance), and the entrance to the secret way is in one of the steep
river banks, quite unlike the description of the Dry River whose ancient
bed was itself the secret way (later Tuor pp. 43-4). The long tunnel
which Tuor and Voronwe traverse in the tale leads them at length not
only to the Guard but also to sunlight, and they are 'at the foot of steep
hills' and can see the city: in other words there is a simple conception of a
plain, a ring-wall of mountains, and a tunnel through them leading to the
outer world. In the later Tuor the approach to the city is much stranger:
for the tunnel of the Guard leads to the ravine of Orfalch Echor, a great
rift from top to bottom of the Encircling Mountains ('sheer as if axe-
cloven', p. 46), up which the road climbed through the successive gates
until it came to the Seventh Gate, barring the rift at the top. Only when
this last gate was opened and Tuor passed through was he able to see
Gondolin; and we must suppose (though the narrative does not reach
this point) that the travellers had to descend again from the Seventh Gate
in order to reach the plain.
It is notable that Tuor and Voronwe are received by the Guard
without any of the suspicion and menace that greeted them in the later
story (p. 45).
(iii) Tuor in Condolin (pp. 159 -- 64).
With this section of the narrative compare The Silmarillion, p. 126:
Behind the circle of the mountains the people of Turgon grew and
throve, and they put forth their skill in labour unceasing, so that
Gondolin upon Amon Gwareth became fair indeed and fit to compare
even with Elven Tirion beyond the sea. High and white were its walls,
and smooth its stairs, and tall and strong was the Tower of the King.
There shining fountains played, and in the courts of Turgon stood
images of the Trees of old, which Turgon himself wrought with
elven-craft; and the Tree which he made of gold was named Glingal,
and the Tree whose flowers he made of silver was named Belthil.
The image of Gondolin was enduring, and it reappears in the glimpses
given in notes for the continuation of the later Tuor (Unfinished Tales
p. 56): the stairs up to its high platform, and its great gate... the Place of
the Fountain, the King's tower on a pillared arcade, the King's house...'
Indeed the only real difference that emerges from the original account
concerns the Trees of Gondolin, which in the former were unfading,
'shoots of old from the glorious Trees of Valinor', but in The Silmarillion
were images made of the precious metals. On the Trees of Gondolin see
the entries Bansil and Glingol from the Name-list, given below
pp. 214 -- 16. The gift by the Gods of these 'shoots' (which 'blossomed


eternally without abating') to Inwe and Noleme at the time of the
building of Kor, each being given a shoot of either Tree, is mentioned in
The Coming of the Elves (I. 123), and in The Hiding of Valinor there
is a reference to the uprooting of those given to No1eme, which 'were
gone no one knew whither, and more had there never been' (1.2I3).
But a deep underlying shift in the history of Gondolin separates the
earlier and later accounts: for whereas in the Last Tales (and later)
Gondolin was only discovered after the Battle of Unnumbered Tears
when the host of Turgon retreated southwards down Sirion, in The
Silmarillion it had been found by Turgon of Nevrast more than four
hundred years before (442years before Tuor came to Gondolin in the
Fell Winter after the fall of Nargothrond in the year 495 of the Sun). In
the tale my father imagined a great age passing between the Battle of
Unnumbered Tears and the destruction of the city ('unstaying labour
through ages of years had not sufficed to its building and adornment
whereat folk travailed yet', p. 163); afterwards, with radical changes in
the chronology of the First Age after the rising of the Sun and Moon, this
period was reduced to no more than (in the last extant version of 'The
Tale of Years' of the First Age) thirty-eight years. But the old conception
can still be felt in the passage on p. 240 of The Silmarillion describing the
withdrawal of the people of Gondolin from all concern with the world
outside after the Nirnaeth Arnoediad, with its air of long years passing.>
In The Silmarillion it is explicit that Turgon devised the city to be 'a
memorial of Tirion upon Tuna' (p. 125), and it became 'as beautiful as a
memory of Elven Tirion' (p. 240). This is not said in the old story, and
indeed in the Last Tales Turgon himself had never known Kor (he was
born in the Great Lands after the return of the Noldoli from Valinor,
I. 167, 238, 24o); one may feel nonetheless that the tower of the King, the
fountains and stairs, the white marbles of Gondolin embody a recollection
of Kor as it is described in The Coming of the Elves and the Making of
Kor (I. 122 -- 3).
I have said above that 'despite the frequent reminder that Ulmo was
guiding Tuor as the instrument of his designs, the essential element in
the later legend of the arms left for him by Turgon on Ulmo's instruction
is lacking'. Now however we seem to see the germ of this conception in
Turgon's words to Tuor (p. 161): 'Thy coming was set in our books of
wisdom, and it has been written that there would come to pass many
great things in the homes of the Gondothlim whenso thou faredst hither.'
Yet it is clear from Tuor's reply that as yet the establishment of Gondolin
was no part of Ulmo's design, since 'there have come to the ears of Ulmo
whispers of your dwelling and your hill of vigilance against the evil of
Melko, and he is glad'.
 (* Of the story of Gondolin from Tuor's coming to its destruction my father
wrote nothing
after the version of 'The Silmarillion' made (very probably) in 1930; and in this
the old
conception of its history was still present. This was the basis for much of
Chapter 23 in the
published work.)

In the tale, Ulmo foresaw that Turgon would be unwilling to take
up arms against Melko, and he fell back, through the mouth of Tuor,
on a second counsel: that Turgon send Elves from Gondolin down Sirion
to the coasts, there to build ships to carry messages to Valinor. To
this Turgon replied, decisively and unanswerably, that he had sent
messengers down the great river with this very purpose 'for years untold',
and since all had been unavailing he would now do so no more. Now this
clearly relates to a passage in The Silmarillion (p. 159) where it is said
that Turgon, after the Dagor Bragollach and the breaking of the Siege of
Angband,
sent companies of the Gondolindrim in secret to the mouths of Sirion
and the Isle of Balar. There they built ships, and set sail into the
uttermost West upon Turgon's errand, seeking for Valinor, to ask for
pardon and aid of the Valar; and they besought the birds of the sea
to guide them. But the seas were wild and wide, and shadow and
enchantment lay upon them; and Valinor was hidden. Therefore none
of the messengers of Turgon came into the West, and many were lost
and few returned.
Turgon did indeed do so once more, after the Battle of Unnumbered
Tears (The Silmarillion p. 196), and the only survivor of that last
expedition into the West was Voronwe of Gondolin. Thus, despite
profound changes in chronology and a great development in the narrative
of the last centuries of the First Age, the idea of the desperate attempts of
Turgon to get a message through to Valinor goes back to the beginning.
Another aboriginal feature is that Turgon had no son; but (curiously)
no mention whatsoever is made in the tale of his wife, the mother of
Idril. In The Silmarillion (p. go) his wife Elenwe was lost in the crossing
of the Helcaraxe, but obviously this story belongs to a later period, when
Turgon was born in Valinor.
The tale of Tuor's sojourn in Gondolin survived into the brief words of
?he Silmarillion (p. 241):
And Tuor remained in Gondolin, for its bliss and its beauty and the
wisdom of its people held him enthralled; and he became mighty in
stature and in mind, and learned deeply of the lore of the exiled Elves.
In the present tale he 'heard tell of Iluvatar, the Lord for Always, who
dwelleth beyond the world', and of the Music of the Ainur. Knowledge
of the very existence of Iluvatar was, it seems, a prerogative of the Elves;
long afterwards in the garden of Mar Vanwa Tyalieva (I. 49) Eriol asked ю
Rumil: 'Who was Iluvatar? Was he of the Gods?' and Rumil answered:
'Nay, that he was not; for he made them. Iluvatar is the Lord for Always,
who dwells beyond the world.'

(iv) The encirclement of Condolin;
the treachery of Meglin (pp. 164 -- 71).
The king's daughter was from the first named 'Idril of the Silver Feet'
(Irilde in the language of the 'Eldar', note 22); Meglin (later Maeglin)
was his nephew, though the name of his mother (Turgon's sister) Isfin
was later changed.
In this section of the narrative the story in The Silmarillion
(pp. 241 -- 2) preserved all the essentials of the original version, with one
major exception. The wedding of Tuor and Idril took place with the
consent and full favour of the king, and there was great joy in Gondolin
among all save Maeglin (whose love of Idril is told earlier in The
Silmarillion, p. 139, where the barrier of his being close kin to her, not
mentioned in the tale, is emphasised). Idril's power of foreseeing and
her foreboding of evil to come; the secret way of her devising (but in the
tale this led south from the city, and the Eagles' Cleft was in the
southern mountains); the loss of Meglin in the hills while seeking for
ore; his capture by Orcs, his treacherous purchase of life, and his return
to Gondolin to avert suspicion (with the detail of his changed mood
thereafter and 'smiling face') -- all this remained. Much is of course
absent (whether rejected or merely passed over) in the succinct account
devised for The Silmarillion -- where there is no mention, for example, of
Idril's dream concerning Meglin, the watch set on him when he went to
the hills, the formation on Idril's advice of a guard bearing Tuor's
emblem, the refusal of Turgon to doubt the invulnerability of the city
and his trust in Meglin, Meglin's discovery of the secret way,*or the
remarkable story that it was Meglin himself who conceived the idea of the
monsters of fire and iron and communicated it to Melko -- a valuable
defector indeed!
The great difference between the versions lies of course in the nature
of Melko/Morgoth's knowledge of Gondolin. In the tale, he had by
means of a vast army of spies t already discovered it before ever Meglin
was captured, and creatures of Melko had found the 'Way of Escape'
and looked down on Gondolin from the surrounding heights. Meglin's
treachery in the old story lay in his giving an exact account of the
structure of the city and the preparations made for its defence -- and in his
advice to Melko concerning the monsters of flame. In The Silmarillion,
on the other hand, there is the element, devised much later, of the
unconscious betrayal by Hurin to Morgoth's spies of the general region in
which Gondolin must be sought, in 'the mountainous land between

(* This is in fact specifically denied in The Silmarillion: 'she contrived it that the
work was
known but to few, and no whisper of it came to Maeglin's ears.'
f It seems that the 'creatures of blood' (said to be disliked by the people of
Gondolin,
p. 166), snakes, wolves, weasels, owls, falcons, are here regarded as the
natural servants
and allies of Melko.)

Anach and the upper waters of Sirion, whither [Morgoth's] servants had
never passed' (p. 241); but 'still no spy or creature out of Angband could
come there because of the vigilance of the eagles' -- and of this role of the
eagles of the Encircling Mountains (though hostile to Melko, p. 193)
there is in the original story no suggestion.
Thus in The Silmarillion Morgoth remained in ignorance until
Maeglin's capture of the precise location of Gondolin, and Maeglin's
information was of correspondingly greater value to him, as it was
also of greater damage to the city. The history of the last years of
Gondolin has thus a somewhat different atmosphere in the tale, for the
Gondothlim are informed of the fact that Melko has 'encompassed the
vale of Tumladin around' (p. 167), and Turgon makes preparations for
war and strengthens the watch on the hills. The withdrawal of all Melko's
spies shortly before the attack on Gondolin did indeed bring about a
renewal of optimism among the Gondothlim, and in Turgon not least, so
that when the attack came the people were unprepared; but in the later
story the shock of the sudden assault is much greater, for there has never
been any reason to suppose that the city is in immediate danger, and
Idril's foreboding is peculiar to herself and more mysterious.
(v) The array of the Condothlim (pp. 171 -- 4).
Though the central image of this part of the story -- the people of
Gondolin looking out from their walls to hail the rising sun on the feast
of the Gates of Summer, but seeing a red light rising in the north and not
in the east -- survived, of all the heraldry in this passage scarcely anything
is found in later writings. Doubtless, if my father had continued the later
Tuor, much would have re-emerged, however changed, if we judge by
the rich 'heraldic' descriptions of the great gates and their guards in the
Orfalch Echor (pp. 46 -- 50). But in the concise account in The Silmarillion
the only vestiges are the titles Ecthelion 'of the Fountain'* and Glorfindel
'chief of the House of the Golden Flower of Gondolin'. Ecthelion and
Glorfindel are named also in The Silmarillion (p. 194) as Turgon's
captains who guarded the Hanks of the host of Gondolin in their retreat
down Sirion from the Nirnaeth Arnoediad, but of other captains named
in the tale there is no mention afterwards + -- though it is significant that
the eighteenth Ruling Steward of Gondor was named Egalmoth, as the
(* In the later Tuor (p. 50) he is 'Lord o( the Fountains', plural (the reading in
the
manuscript is certain).
+ In the version o( 'The Silmarillion' made in 1930 (see footnote on p. 208),
the last
account of the Fall of Gondolin to bc written and the basis for that in chapter
23 of the
published work, the text actually reads: '... much is told in The Fall of
Gondolin: of the
death of Rog without the walls, and of the battle of Ecthelion of the Fountain ',
&c. I
removed the reference to Rog (The Silmarillion p. 242) on the grounds that it
was
absolutely certain that my father would not have retained this name as that of
a lord of
Gondolin.)



seventeenth and twenty-fifth were named Ecthelion (The Lord of the
Rings, Appendix A (1,ii)).*
Glorfindel 'of the golden hair' (p. 192) remains 'yellow-haired
Glorfindel' in The Silmarillion, and this was from the beginning the
meaning of his name.
(vi) The battle of Condolin (pp. 174-88).
Virtually the entire history of the fighting in Gondolin is unique in the
tale of The Fall of Condolin; the whole story is summarised in The
Silmarillion (p. 242) in a few lines:
Of the deeds of desperate valour there done, by the chieftains of the
noble houses and their warriors, and not least by Tuor, much is told in
The Fall of Condolin: of the battle of Ecthelion of the Fountain with
Gothmog Lord of Balrogs in the very square of the King, where each
slew the other, and of the defence of the tower of Turgon by the people
of his household, until the tower was overthrown: and mighty was its
fall and the fall of Turgon in its ruin.
Tuor sought to rescue Idril from the sack of the city, but Maeglin
had laid hands on her, and on Earendil; and Tuor fought with Maeglin
on the walls, and cast him far out, and his body as it fell smote the
rocky slopes of Amon Gwareth thrice ere it pitched into the flames
below. Then Tuor and Idril led such remnants of the people of
Gondolin as they could gather in the confusion of the burning down
the secret way which Idril had prepared.
(In this highly compressed account the detail that Maeglin's body struck
the slopes of Amon Gwareth three times before it 'pitched' into the
flames was retained.) It would seem from The Silmarillion account that
Maeglin's attempt on Idril and Earendil took place much later in the
fighting, and indeed shortly before the escape of the fugitives down the
tunnel; but I think that this is far more likely to be the result of
compression than of a change in the narrative of the battle.
In the tale Gondolin is very clearly visualised as a city, with its markets
and its great squares, of which there are only vestiges in later writing (see
above, p. 207); and there is nothing vague in the description of the
fighting. The early conception of the Balrogs makes them less terrible,
and certainly more destructible, than they afterwards became: they
(*In a very late note written on one of the texts that constitute chapter 16 of
The
Silmarillion ('Of Maeglin') my father was thinking of making the 'three lords of
his household' whom Turgon appointed to ride with Aredhel from Gondolin (p.
131)
Glorfindel, Ecthelion, and Egalmoth. He notes that Ecthelion and Egalmoth
'are derived
from the primitive F[all of] G[ondolin]', but that they 'are well soundinga and
have been in
print' (with reference to the names of the Stewards of Gondor). Subsequently
he decided
against naming Aredhel's escort.)

existed in 'hundreds' (p. 170),* and were slain by Tuor and the
Gondothlim in large numbers: thus five fell before Tuor's great axe
Dramborleg, three before Ecthelion's sword, and two score were slain by
the warriors of the king's house. The Balrogs are 'demons of power'
(p. 181); they are capable of pain and fear (p. 194); they are attired in
iron armour (pp. 181, 194), and they have whips of flame (a character
they never lost) and claws of steel (pp. 169, 179).
In The Silmarillion the dragons that came against Gondolin were 'of
the brood of Glaurung', which 'were become now many and terrible';
whereas in the tale the language employed (p. 170) suggests that some at
least of the 'Monsters' were inanimate 'devices', the construction of
smiths in the forges of Angband. But even the 'things of iron' that
'opened about their middles' to disgorge bands of Orcs are called
'ruthless beasts', and Gothmog 'bade' them 'pile themselves' (p. 176);
those made of bronze or copper 'were given hearts and spirits of blazing
fire'; while the 'fire-drake' that Tuor hewed screamed and lashed with its
tail (p. 181).
A small detail of the narrative is curious: what 'messengers' did Meglin
send to Melko to warn him to guard the outer entrance of the Way of
Escape (where he guessed that the secret tunnel must lead in the end)?
Whom could Meglin trust sufficiently? And who would dare to go?
(vii) The escape of the fugitives
and the battle in Cristhorn (pp. 188 -- 95).
The story as told in The Silmarillion (p. 243) is somewhat fuller in its
account of the escape of the fugitives from the city and the ambush in the
Eagles' Cleft (there called Cirith Thoronath) than in that of the assault
and sack itself, but only in one point are the two narratives actually at
variance -- as already noticed, the Eagles' Cleft was afterwards moved
from the southern parts of the Encircling Mountains to the northern, and
Idril's tunnel led north from the city (the comment is made that it was not
thought 'that any fugitives would take a path towards the north and the
highest parts of the mountains and the nighest to Angband'). The tale
provides a richness of detail and an immediacy that is lacking in the short
version, where such things as the tripping over dead bodies in the hot and
reeking underground passage have disappeared; and there is no mention
of the Gondothlim who against the counsel of Idril and Tuor went to the
Way of Escape and were there destroyed by the dragon lying in wait, f' or
of the fight to rescue Earendel.
(* The idea that Morgoth disposed of a 'host' of Balrogs endured long, but in a
late note my
father said that only very few ever existed -- 'at most seven'.
+ This element in the story was in fact still present in the 1930 'Silmarillion'
(see
footnote on p.208), but I excluded it from the published work on account of
evidence in a
much later text that the old entrance to Gondolin had by this time been
blocked up -- a fact
which was then written into the text in chapter 23 of The Silmarillion.


In the tale appears the keen-sighted Elf Legolas Greenleaf, first of the
names of the Fellowship of the Ring to appear in my father's writings (see
p. 217 on this earlier Legolas), followed by Gimli (an Elf) in the Tale of
Tinuviel.
In one point the story of the ambush in Cristhorn seems difficult to
follow: this is the statement on p. 193 that the moon 'lit not the path
for the height of the walls'. The fugitives were moving southwards
through the Encircling Mountains, and the sheer rockwall above the path
in the Eagles' Cleft was 'of the right or westerly hand', while on the left
there was 'a fall... dreadly steep'. Surely then the moon rising in the east
would illuminate the path?
The name Cristhorn appears in my father's drawing of 'Gondolin
and the Vale of Tumladin from Cristhorn', September 1928 (Pictures
by J. R. R. Tolkien, 1979, no. 35).
(viii) The wanderings of the Exiles of Condolin (pp. 195 -- 7).
In The Silmarillion (p. 243) it is said that 'led by Tuor son of Huor
the remnant of Gondolin passed over the mountains, and came down
into the Vale of Sirion'. One would suppose that they came down into
Dimbar, and so 'fleeing southward by weary and dangerous marches they
came at length to Nan-tathren, the Land of Willows'. It seems strange in
the tale that the exiles were wandering in the wilderness for more than a
year, and yet achieved only to the outer entrance of the Way of Escape;
but the geography of this region may have been vaguer when The Fall of
Condolin was written.
In The Silmarillion when Tuor and Idril went down from Nan-
tathren to the mouths of Sirion they 'joined their people to the
company of Elwing, Dior's daughter, that had fled thither but a
little while before'. Of this there is no mention here; but I postpone
consideration of this part of the narrative.
Entries in the Name-list to The Fall of Condolin
On this list see p. 148, where the head-note to it is given. Specifically
linguistic information from the list, including meanings, is incorporated
in the Appendix on Names, but I collect here some statements of other
kind (arranged in alphabetical order) that are contained in it.
Bablon 'was a city of Men, and more rightly Babylon, but such is the
Gnomes' name as they now shape it, and they got it from Men
aforetime.'
Bansil 'Now this name had the Gondothlim for that tree before their
king's door which bore silver blossom and faded not -- and its name
had Elfriniel from his father Voronwe; and it meaneth "Fairgleam".
Now that tree of which it was a shoot (brought in the deep ages out
of Valinor by the Noldoli) had like properties, but greater, seeing
that for half the twenty-four hours it lit all Valinor with silver light.
This the Eldar still tell of as Silpion or "Cherry-moon", for its
blossom was like that of a cherry in spring -- but of that tree in
Gondolin they know no name, and the Noldoli tell of it alone.'
Dor Lomin 'or the "Land of Shadows" was that region named of the
Eldar Hisilome (and this means Shadowy Twilights) where Melko
shut Men, and it is so called by reason of the scanty sun which peeps
little over the Iron Mountains to the east and south of it-there dwell
now the Shadow Folk. Thence came Tuor to Gondolin.'
Earendel 'was the son of Tuor and Idril and 'tis said the only being that
is half of the kindred of the Eldalie and half of Men. He was the
greatest and first of all mariners among Men, and saw regions that
Men have not yet found nor gazed upon for all the multitude of their
boats. He rideth now with Voronwe upon the winds of the firmament
nor comes ever further back than Kor, else would he die like other
Men, so much of the mortal is in him.'
(For these last statements about Earendel see pp. 264-5. The
statement that Earendel was 'the only being that is half of the
kindred of the Eldalie and half of Men' is very notable. Presumably
this was written when Beren was an Elf, not a Man (see p. 139);
Dior son of Beren and Tinuviel appears in the Tale of the
Nasglafring, but there Beren is an Elf, and Dior is not Half-elven.
In the tale of The Fall of Gondolin itself it is said, but in a
later replacement passage (p. 164 and note 22), that Tuor was the
first but not the last to wed 'a daughter of Elfinesse'. On the
extraordinary statement in the Tale of Turambar that Tamar
Lamefoot was Half-elven see p. 130.)
Ecthelion 'was that lord of the house of the Fountain, who had the fairest
voice and was most skilled in musics of all the Gondothlim. He won
renown for ever by his slaying of Gothmog son of Melko, whereby
Tuor was saved from death but Ecthelion was drowned with his foe
in the king's fountain.'
Egalmoth was 'lord of the house of the Heavenly Arch, and got even out
of the burning of Gondolin, and dwelt after at the mouth of Sirion,
but was slain in a dire battle there when Melko seized Elwing'.
(See p. 258.)
Galdor 'was that valiant Gnome who led the men of the Tree in many a
charge and yet won out of Gondolin and even the onslaught of
Melko upon the dwellers at Sirion's mouth and went back to the
ruins with Earendel. He dwelleth yet in Tol Eressea (said Elfriniel),
and still do some of his folk name themselves Nos Galdon, for
Galdon is a tree, and thereto Galdor's name akin.' The last phrase
was emended to read: 'Nos nan Alwen, for Alwen is a Tree.'

(For Galdor's return to the ruins of Gondolin with Earendel see
P- 258.)
Glingol 'meaneth "singing-gold" ('tis said), and this name was that
which the Gondothlim had for that other of the two unfading trees
in the king's square which bore golden bloom. It also was a shoot
from the trees of Valinor (see rather where Elfrith has spoken of
Bansil), but of Lindelokte (which is "singing-cluster") or Laurelin
[emended from Lindelaure] (which is "singing-gold") which lit all
Valinor with golden light for half the 24 hours.'
(For the name Lindelokte see I. 22, 258 (entry Lindelos).)
Clorfindel 'led the Golden Flower and was the best beloved of the
Gondothlim, save it be Ecthelion, but who shall choose. Yet he was
hapless and fell slaying a Balrog in the great fight in Cristhorn. His
name meaneth Goldtress for his hair was golden, and the name of
his house in Noldorissa Los'loriol' (emended from Los Gloriol).
Gondolin 'meaneth stone of song (whereby figuratively the Gnomes
meant stone that was carven and wrought to great beauty), and this
was the name most usual of the Seven Names they gave to their city
of secret refuge from Melko in those days before the release.'
Gothmog 'was a son of Melko and the ogress Fluithuin and his name is
Strife-and-hatred, and he was Captain of the Balrogs and lord of
Melko's hosts ere fair Ecthelion slew him at the taking of Gondolin.
The Eldar named him Kosmoko or Kosomok(o), but 'tis a name
that fitteth their tongue no way and has an ill sound even in our own
rougher speech, said Elfrith [emended fmm Elfriniel].'
(In a list of names of the Valar associated with the tale of The
Coming of the Valar (I. 93) it is said that Melko had a son 'by
Ulbandi' called Kosomot; the early 'Qenya' dictionary gives
Kosomoko = Gnomish Gothmog, I.258. In the tale Gothmog is
called the 'marshal' of the hosts of Melko (p. 184).)
In the later development of the legends Gothmog was the slayer
of Feanor, and in the Battle of Unnumbered Tears it was he who
slew Fingon and captured Hurin (The Silmarillion pp. IO7, I93,
 195). He is not of course called later son of Melkor -, the Children of
the Valar' was a feature of the earlier mythology that my father
discarded.
In the Third Age Gothmog was the name of the lieutenant of
Minas Morgul (The Return of the King V.6).)
Hendor 'was a house-carle of Idril's and was aged, but bore Earendel
down the secret passage.'
Idril 'was that most fair daughter of the king of Gondolin whom Tuor
loved when she was but a little maid, and who bare him Earendel.
Her the Elves name Irilde; and we speak of as Idril Tal-Celeb or
Idril of the Silver Feet, but they Irilde Taltelepta.'
See the Appendix on Names, entry Idril.

Indor 'was the name of the father of Tuor's father, wherefore did the
Gnomes name Earendel Gon Indor and the Elves Indorildo or
Indorion.'
Legolas 'or Green-leaf was a man of the Tree, who led the exiles over
Tumladin in the dark, being night-sighted, and he liveth still in Tol
Eressea named by the Eldar there Laiqalasse; but the book of
Rumil saith further hereon.'
(See I. 267, entry Tari-Laisi.)
$3 Miscellaneous Matters.
(i) The geography of The Fall of Gondolin.
I have noticed above (p. 205) that in Tuor's journey all along the coast of
what was afterwards Beleriand to the mouths of Sirion there is an
unquestionable resemblance to the later map, in the trend of the coast
from north-south to east-west. It is also said that after he left Falasquil
'the distant hills marched ever nearer to the margin of the sea', and that
the spurs of the Iron Mountains 'run even to the sea' (pp. 152-3). These
statements can likewise be readily enough related to the map, where the
long western extension of the Mountains of Shadow (Ered Wethrin),
forming the southern border of Nevrast, reached the sea at Vinyamar
(for the equation of the Mountains of Iron and the Mountains of Shadow
see I. III -- 12).
Arlisgion, 'the place of reeds' (p. 153) above the mouths of Sirion,
survived in Lisgardh 'the land of reeds at the Mouths of Sirion' in the
later Tuor (p. 34); and the feature that the great river passed underground
for a part of its course goes back to the earliest period, as does that of the
Meres of Twilight, Aelin-uial ('the Pools of Twilight', p. 195). There is
here however a substantial difference in the tale from?he Silmarillion
(p. 122), where Aelin-uial was the region of great pools and marshes
where 'the flood of Sirion was stayed', south of the Meres the river 'fell
from the north in a mighty fall... and then he plunged suddenly
underground into great tunnels that the weight of his falling waters
delved'. Here on the other hand the Pools of Twilight are clearly below
the 'cavern of the Tumultuous Winds' (never mentioned later) where
Sirion dives underground. But the Land of Willows, below the region
of Sirion's underground passage, is placed as it was to remain.
Thus the view I expressed (p. 141) of the geographical indications in
the Tale of Turambar can be asserted also of those of The Fall of
Gondolin.
(ii) Ulmo and the other Valar in The Fall of Condolin.
In the speech of Tuor inspired by Ulmo that he uttered at his first
meeting with Turgon (p. 161) he said: 'the hearts of the Valar are

angered... seeing the sorrow of the thraldom of the Noldoli and the
wanderings of Men.' This is greatly at variance with what is told in
The Hiding of Valinor, especially the following (I. 208-- 9):*
The most of the Valar moreover were fain of their ancient ease and
desired only peace, wishing neither rumour of Melko and his violence
nor murmur of the restless Gnomes to come ever again among them to
disturb their happiness; and for such reasons they also clamoured for
the concealment of the land. Not the least among these were Vina and
Nessa, albeit most even of the great Gods were of one mind. In vain
did Ulmo of his foreknowing plead before them for pity and pardon on
the Noldoli...
Subsequently Tuor said (p. 161): 'the Gods sit in Valinor, though their
mirth is minished for sorrow and fear of Melko, and they hide their land
and weave about it inaccessible magic that no evil come to its shores.'
Turgon in his reply ironically echoed and altered the words: 'they that sit
within [i.e. in Valinor] reck little of the dread of Melko or the sorrow of
the world, but hide their land and weave about it inaccessible magic, that
no tidings of evil come ever to their ears.'
How is this to be understood? Was this Ulmo's 'diplomacy'? Certainly
Turgon's understanding of the motives of the Valar chimes better with
what is said of them in The Hiding of Valinor.
But the Gnomes of Gondolin reverenced the Valar. There were
'pomps of the Ainur' (p. 165); a great square of the city and its highest
point was Gar Ainion, the Place of the Gods, where weddings were
celebrated (pp. 164, 186); and the people of the Hammer of Wrath
'reverenced Aule the Smith more than all other Ainur' (p. 174).
Of particular interest is the passage (p. 165) in which a reason is given
for Ulmo's choice of a Man as the agent of his designs: 'Now Melko was
not much afraid of the race of Men in those days of his great power, and
for this reason did Ulmo work through one of this kindred for the better
deceiving of Melko, seeing that no Valar and scarce any of the Eldar or
Noldoli might stir unmarked of his vigilance.' This is the only place
where a reason is expressly offered, save for an isolated early note, where
two reasons are given:
(1) 'the wrath of the Gods' (i.e. against the Gnomes);
(2) 'Melko did not fear Men -- had he thought that any messengers
were getting to Valinor he would have redoubled his vigilance and evil
and hidden the Gnomes away utterly.'
(* It also seems to be at variance with the story that all Men were shut in
Hithlum by
Melko's decree after the Battle of Unnumbered Tears; but 'wanderings' isa
strange word in
the context, since the next words are 'for Melko ringeth them in the Land of
Shadows'.)

But this is too oblique to be helpful.
The conception of 'the luck of the Gods' occurs again in this tale
(pp. 188, 200 note 32), as it does in the Tale of Turambar: see p. 141.
The Ainur 'put it into Tuor's heart' to climb the cliff out of the ravine of
Golden Cleft for the saving of his life (p. 151).
Very strange is the passage concerning the birth of Earendel (p. 165):
'In these days came to pass the fulfilment of the time of the desire of the
Valar and the hope of the Eldalie, for in great love Idril bore to Tuor a son
and he was called Earendel.' Is it to be understood that the union of Elf
and mortal Man, and the birth of their offspring, was 'the desire of the
Valar' -- that the Valar foresaw it, or hoped for it, as the fulfilment of a
design of Iluvatar from which great good should come? There is no hint
or suggestion of such an idea elsewhere.
(iii) Orcs.
There is a noteworthy remark in the tale (p. 159) concerning the origin of
the Orcs (or Orqui as they were called in Tuor A, and in Tuor B as first
written): 'all that race were bred of the subterranean heats and slime.'
There is no trace yet of the later view that 'naught that had life of its own,
nor the semblance of life, could ever Melkor make since his rebellion in
the Ainulindale before the Beginning', or that the Orcs were derived
from enslaved Quendi after the Awakening (The Silmarillion p. 50).
Conceivably there is a first hint of this idea of their origin in the words of
the tale in the same passage: 'unless it be that certain of,the Noldoli were
twisted to the evil of Melko and mingled among these Orcs', although of
course this is as it stands quite distinct from the idea that the Orcs were
actually bred from Elves.
Here also occurs the name Glamhoth of the Orcs, a name that
reappears in the later Tuor (pp. 39 and 54 note 18).
On Balrogs and Dragons in The Fall of Gondolin see pp. 212 -- 13.
(iv) Noldorin in the Land of Willows.
'Did not even after the days of Tuor Noldorin and his E1dar come there
seeking for Dor Lomin and the hidden river and the caverns of the
Gnomes' imprisonment; yet thus nigh to their quest's end were like to
abandon it? Indeed sleeping and dancing here... they were whelmed by
the goblins sped by Melko from the Hills of Iron and Noldorin made bare
escape thence' (p. 154). This was the Battle of Tasarinan, mentioned in
the Tale of Turambar (pp. 70, 140), at the time of the great expedition of
the Elves from Kor. Cf. Lindo's remark in The Cottage of Lost Play
(I. 16) that his father Valwe 'went with Noldorin to find the Gnomes'.
Noldorin (Salmar, companion of Ulmo) is also said in the tale to have

fought beside Tulkas at the Pools of Twilight against Melko himself,
though his name was struck out (p. 195 and note 38); this was after the
Battle of Tasarinan. On these battles see pp. 278 ff.
(v) The stature of Elves and Men.
The passage concerning Tuor's stature on p. 159, before it was rewritten
(see note 18), can only mean that while Tuor was not himself unusually
tall for a Man he was nonetheless taller than the Elves of Gondolin, and
thus agrees with statements made in the Tale of Turambar (see p. 142).
As emended, however, the meaning is rather that Men and Elves were
not greatly distinct in stature.
(vi) Isfin and Eol.
The earliest version of this tale is found in the little Lost Tales notebook
(see I. 171), as follows:
Isfin and Eol.
Isfin daughter of Fingolma loved from afar by Eol (Arval) of the
Mole-kin of the Gnomes. He is strong and in favour with Fingolma
and with the Sons of Feanor (to whom he is akin) because he is a leader
of the Miners and searches after hidden jewels, but he is illfavoured
and Isfin loathes him.
(Fingolma as a name for Finwe Noleme appears in outlines for
Gilfanon's Tale, I.238-9.) We have here an illfavoured miner named
Eol 'of the Mole' who loves Isfin but is rejected by her with loathing; and
this is obviously closely parallel to the illfavoured miner Meglin with
the sign of the sable mole seeking the hand of Idril, who rejects him,
in The Fall of Gondolin. It is difficult to know how to interpret this.
The simplest explanation is that the story adumbrated in the little
notebook is actually earlier than that in The Fall of Condolin; that
Meglin did not yet exist; and that subsequently the image of the 'ugly
miner -- unsuccessful suitor' became that of the son, the object of desire
becoming Idril (niece of Isfin), while a new story was developed for the
father, Eol the dark Elf of the forest who ensnared Isfin. But it is by no
means clear where Eol the miner was when he 'loved from afar' Isfin
daughter of Fingolma. There seems to be no reason to think that he was
associated with Gondolin; more probably the idea of the miner bearing
the sign of the Mole entered Gondolin with Meglin.
IV.
THE NAUGLAFRING.
We come now to the last of the original Lost Tales to be given consecutive
narrative form. This is contained in a separate notebook, and it bears the
title The Nauglafring: The Necklace of the Dwarves.
The beginning of this tale is somewhat puzzling. Before the telling of
The Fall of Condolin Lindo told Littleheart that 'it is the desire of all
that you tell us the tales of Tuor and of Earendel as soon as may be'
(p. 144), and Littleheart replied: 'It is a mighty tale, and seven times
shall folk fare to the Tale-fire ere it be rightly told; and so twined is it with
those stories of the Nauglafring and of the Elf-march that I would fain
have aid in that telling of Ailios here...' Thus Littleheart's surrender of
the chair of the tale-teller to Ailios at the beginning of the present text, so
that Ailios should tell of the Nauglafring, fits the general context well;
but we should not expect the new tale to be introduced with the words
'But after a while silence fell', since The Fall of Gondolin ends 'And no
one in all the Room of Logs spake or moved for a great while.' In any
case, after the very long Fall of Gondolin the next tale would surely have
waited till the following evening.
This tale is once again a manuscript in ink over a wholly erased original
in pencil, but only so far as the words 'sate his greed' on page 230.
From this point to the end there is only a primary manuscript in pencil
in the first stage of composition, written in haste -- in places hurled on to
the page, with a good many words not certainly decipherable; and a part
of this was extensively rewritten while the tale was still in progress (see
note 13).
The Nauglafring
The Necklace of the Dwarves.
But after a while silence fell, and folk murmured 'Earendel', but
others said 'Nay -- what of the Nauglafring, the Necklace of the
Dwarves.' Therefore said Ilfiniol, leaving the chair of the tale-
teller: 'Yea, better would the tale be told if Ailios would relate
the matters concerning that necklace,' and Ailios being nowise
unwilling thus began, looking upon the company.
'Remember ye all how Urin the Steadfast cast the gold of
Glorund before the feet of Tinwelint, and after would not touch it

again, but went in sorrow back to Hisi1ome, and there died?' And
all said that that tale was still fresh in their hearts.
'Behold then,' said Ailios, 'in great grief gazed the king upon
Urin as he left the hall, and he was weary for the evil of Melko that
thus deceived all hearts; yet tells the tale that so potent were the
spells that Mim the fatherless had woven about that hoard that,
even as it lay upon the floor of the king's halls shining strangely in
the light of the torches that burnt there, already were all who
looked upon it touched by its subtle evil.
Now therefore did those of Urin's band murmur, and one said
to the king: "Lo, lord, our captain Urin, an old man and mad, has
departed, but we have no mind to forego our gain."
Then said Tinwelint, for neither was he untouched by the
golden spell: "Nay then, know ye not that this gold belongs to the
kindred of the Elves in common, for the Rodothlim who won it
from the earth long time ago are no more, and no one has especial
claim' to so much as a handful save only Urin by reason of his son
Turin, who slew the Worm, the robber of the Elves; yet Turin is
dead and Urin will have none of it; and Turin was my man."
At those words the outlaws fell into great wrath, until the king
said: "Get ye now gone, and seek not 0 foolish ones to quarrel
with the Elves of the forest, lest death or the dread enchantments
of Valinor find you in the woods. Neither revile ye the name of
Tinwelint their king, for I will reward you richly enough for your
travail and the bringing of the gold. Let each one now approach
and take what he may grasp with either hand, and then depart in
peace."
Now were the Elves of the wood in turn displeased, who long
had stood nigh gazing on the gold; but the wild folk did as they
were bid, and yet more, for some went into the hoard twice and
thrice, and angry cries were raised in that hall. Then would
the woodland Elves hinder them of their thieving, and a great
dissension arose, so that though the king would stay them none
heeded him. Then did those outlaws being fierce and fearless folk
draw swords and deal blows about them, so that soon there was a
great fight even upon the steps of the high-seat of the king.
Doughty were those outlaws and great wielders of sword and axe
from their warfare with Orcs,'so that many were slain ere the
king, seeing that peace and pardon might no longer be, summoned
a host of his warriors, and those outlaws being wildered with the
stronger magics of the king' and confused in the dark ways of
the halls of Tinwelint were all slain fighting bitterly; but the
i
]

king's hall ran with gore, and the gold that lay before his throne,'
scattered and spurned by trampling feet, was drenched with
blood. Thus did the curse of Mim the Dwarf begin its course; and
yet another sorrow sown by the Noldoli of old in Valinor was come
to fruit.'
Then were the bodies of the outlaws cast forth, but the wood-
land Elves that were slain Tinwelint let bury nigh to the knoll of
Tinuviel, and 'tis said that the great mound stands there still in
Artanor, and for long the fairies called it Cum an-Idrisaith, the
Mound of Avarice.
Now came Gwenniel to Tinwelint and said: "Touch not this
gold, for my heart tells me it is trebly cursed. Cursed indeed by the
dragon's breath, and cursed by thy lieges' blood that moistens it,
and the death of those' they slew; but some more bitter and more
binding ill methinks hangs over it that I may not see."
Then, remembering the wisdom of Gwenniel his wife, the king
was minded to hearken to her, and he bade gather it up and cast it
into the stream before the gates. Yet even so he might not shake
off its spell, and he said to himself: "First will I gaze my last
upon its loveliness ere I fling it from me for ever." Therefore
he let wash it clean of its stains of blood in clear waters, and display
it before him. Now such mighty heaps of gold have never since
been gathered in one place; and some thereof was wrought to
cups, to basons, and to dishes, and hilts there were for swords, and
scabbards, and sheaths for daggers; but the most part was of red
gold unwrought lying in masses and in bars. The value of that
hoard no man could count, for amid the gold lay many gems, and
these were very beautiful to look upon, for the fathers of the
Rodothlim had brought them out of Valinor, a portion of that
boundless treasury the Noldoli had there possessed.
Now as he gazed Tinwelint said: "How glorious is this treasure!
And I have not a tithe thereof, and of the gems of Valinor
none save that Silmaril that Beren won from Angamandi." But
Gwenniel who stood by said: "And that were worth all that here
lies, were it thrice as great."
Then arose one from among the company, and that was
Ufedhin, a Gnome; but more had he wandered about the world
than any of the king's folk, and long had he dwelt with
the Nauglath and the Indrafangs their kin. The Nauglath
are a strange race and none know surely whence they be; and they
serve not Melko nor Manwe and reck not for Elf or Man, and some
say that they have not heard of Iluvatar, or hearing disbelieve.


Howbeit in crafts and sciences and in the knowledge of the virtues
of all things that are in the earth or under the water none excel
them; yet they dwell beneath the ground in caves and tunnelled
towns, and aforetime Nogrod was the mightiest of these. Old are
they, and never comes a child among them, nor do they laugh.
They are squat in stature, and yet are strong, and their beards
reach even to their toes, but the beards of the Indrafangs are the
longest of all, and are forked, and they bind them about their
middles when they walk abroad. All these creatures have Men
called 'Dwarves', and say that their crafts and cunning surpass
that of the Gnomes in marvellous contrivance, but of a truth there
is little beauty in their works of themselves, for in those things of
loveliness that they have wrought in ages past such renegade
Gnomes as was Ufedhin have ever had a hand. Now long had that
Gnome forsaken his folk, becoming leagued with the Dwarves of
Nogrod, and was at that time come to the realms of Tinwelint with
certain other Noldoli of like mind bearing swords and coats of mail
and other smithyings of exquisite skill in which the Nauglath in
those days did great traffic with the free Noldoli, and, 'tis said,
with the Orcs and soldiers of Melko also.
As he stood in that place the spell of the gold had pierced the
heart of Ufedhin more deeply than the heart of any there, and he
could not endure that it should all be cast away, and these were his
words: "An evil deed is this that Tinwelint the king intends; or
who hereafter shall say that the kindreds of the Eldalie love things
of beauty if a king of the Eldar cast so great a store of loveliness into
the dark woodland waters where none but the fishes may after
behold it? Rather than this should be, I beg of thee, 0 King, to
suffer the craftsmen of the Dwarves to try their skill upon this
unwrought gold, that the name of the golden treasury of Tinwelint
become heard in all lands and places. This will they do, I promise
thee, for small guerdon, might they but save the hoard from ruin."
Then looked the king upon the gold and he looked upon
Ufedhin, and that Gnome was clad very richly, having a tunic of
golden web and a belt of gold set with tiny gems; and his sword
was damasked in strange wise,'. but a collar of gold and silver
interlaced most intricate was round his neck, and Tinwelint's
raiment could in no wise compare with that of the wayfarer in his
halls. Again looked Tinwelint upon the gold, and it shone yet
more alluring fair, nor ever had the sparkle of the gems seemed so
brilliant, and Ufedhin said again: "Or in what manner, 0 King,
dost thou guard that Silmaril of which all the world hath heard?"


Now Gwenniel warded it in a casket of wood bound with iron,
and Ufedhin said it was shame so to set a jewel that should not
touch aught less worthy than the purest gold. Then was Tinwelint
abashed, and yielded, and this was the agreement that he made
with Ufedhin. Half the gold should the king measure and give to
the hands of Ufedhin and his company, and they should bear it
away to Nogrod and the dwellings of the Dwarves. Now those
were a very long journey southward beyond the wide forest on the
borders of those great heaths nigh Umboth-muilin the Pools of
Twilight, on the marches of Tasarinan. Yet after but seven full
moons back would the Nauglath fare bearing the king's loan all
wrought to works of greatest cunning, yet in no wise would the
weight and purity of the gold be minished. Then would they speak -
to Tinwelint, and an he liked not the handiwork then would they
return and say no more; yet if it seemed good to him then of that
which remained would they fashion such marvellous things for his
adornment and for Gwenniel the Queen as never had Gnome or
Dwarf made yet.
"For," said Ufedhin, "the cunning of the Nauglath have I
learnt, and the beauty of design that only can the Noldoli compass
do I know -- yet shall the wages of our labour be small indeed, and
we will name it before thee when all is done."
Then by reason of the glamour of the gold the king repented his
agreement with Ufedhin, and he liked not altogether his words,
and he would not suffer so great a store of gold to be borne without
surety out of his sight for seven moons to the distant dwellings of
the Dwarves; yet was he minded nonetheless to profit by their
skill. Therefore suddenly he let seize Ufedhin, and his folk, and
he said unto them: "Here shall ye remain as hostages in my halls
until I see again my treasury." Now Tinwelint thought in his
heart that Ufedhin and his Gnomes were of the utmost service to
the Dwarves, and no covetice would be strong enough to bring
them to forsake him; but that Gnome was very wroth, saying:
"The Nauglath are no thieves, 0 King, nor yet their friends";
but Tinwelint said: "Yet the light of overmuch gold has made
many thieves, who were not so before," and Ufedhin perforce
consented, yet he forgave not Tinwelint in his heart.
Therefore was the gold now borne to Nogrod by folk of the king
guided by one only of Ufedhin's companions, and the agreement
of Ufedhin and Tinwelint spoken to Naugladur, the king of those
places.
Now during the time of waiting Ufedhin was kindly entreated

in the courts of Tinwelint, yet was he idle perforce, and he fretted
inwardly. In his leisure he pondered ever what manner of lovely
thing of gold and jewels he would after fashion for Tinwelint, but
this was only for the greater ensnaring of the king, for already he
began to weave dark plots most deep of avarice and revenge.
On the very day of the fullness of the seventh moon thereafter
the watchers on the king's bridge cried: "Lo! there comes a great
company through the wood, and all it seems are aged men, and
they bear very heavy burdens on their backs." But the king
hearing said: "It is the Nauglath, who keep their tryst: now mayst
thou go free, Ufedhin, and take my greeting to them, and lead
them straightway to my hall"; and Ufedhin sallied forth gladly,
but his heart forgot not its resentment. Therefore having speech
privily with the Nauglath he prevailed upon them to demand at
the end a very great reward, and one thereto that the king might
not grant unhumbled; and more of his designs also did he unfold,
whereby that gold might fare in the end to Nogrod for ever.
Now come the Dwarves nonetheless over the bridge and before
the chair of Tinwelint, and behold, the things of their workman-
ship they had conveyed thither in silken cloths, and boxes of rare
woods carven cunningly. In other wise had Urin haled the treasure
thither, and half thereof lay yet in his rude sacks and clumsy chests;
yet when the gold was once more revealed, then did a cry of wonder
arise, for the things the Nauglath had made were more wondrous
far than the scanty vessels and the ornaments that the Rodothlim
wrought of old. Cups and goblets did the king behold, and some
had double bowls or curious handles interlaced, and horns there
were of strange shape, dishes and trenchers, flagons and ewers,
and all appurtenances of a kingly feast. Candlesticks there were
and sconces for the torches, and none might count the rings and
armlets, the bracelets and collars, and the coronets of gold;
and all these were so subtly made and so cunningly adorned that
Tinwelint was glad beyond the hope of Ufedhin.
But as yet the designs of Ufedhin came to nought, for in no wise
would Tinwelint suffer or him or those of the Nauglath to depart
to Nogrod with or without that portion of the unwrought gold that
yet remained, and he said: "How shall it be thought that after the
weariness of your burdened journeys hither I should let you so
soon be gone, to noise the lack of courtesy of Tinwelint abroad in
Nogrod? Stay now awhile and rest and feast, and afterward shall
ye have the gold that remains to work your pleasure on; nor shall
aught of help that I or my folk may afford be wanting in your

labour, and a reward rich and more than just awaits you at the
end."
But they knew nonetheless that they were prisoners, and trying
the exits privily found them strongly warded. Being therefore
without counsel they bowed before the king, and the faces of the
Dwarf-folk show seldom what they think. Now after a time of rest
was that last smithying begun in a deep place of Tinwelint's abode '
which he caused to be set apart for their uses, and what their hearts
lacked therein fear supplied, and in all that work Ufedhin had a
mighty part.
A golden crown they made for Tinwelint, who yet had worn
nought but a wreath of scarlet leaves, and a helm too most glorious
they fashioned; and a sword of dwarven steel brought from afar
was hilted with bright gold and damascened in gold and silver with
strange figurings wherein was pictured clear the wolf-hunt of
Karkaras Knife-fang, father of wolves. That was a more wonder-
ful sword than any Tinwelint had seen before, and outshone the
sword in Ufedhin's belt the king had coveted. These things were
of Ufedhin's cunning, but the Dwarves made a coat of linked
mail of steel and gold for Tinwelint, and a belt of gold. Then was
the king's heart gladdened, but they said: "All is not finished," and
Ufedhin made a silver crown for Gwenniel, and aided by the
Dwarves contrived slippers of silver crusted with diamonds, and
the silver thereof was fashioned in delicate scales, so that it yielded
as soft leather to the foot, and a girdle he made too of silver
blended with pale gold. Yet were those things but a tithe of their
works, and no tale tells a full count of them.
Now when all was done and their smithcraft given to the king,
then said Ufedhin: "0 Tinwelint, richest of kings, dost thou think
these things fair?" And he said: "Yea"; but Ufedhin said: "Know
then that great store of thy best and purest gold remaineth still,
for we have husbanded it, having a boon to ask of thee, and it is
this: we would make thee a carcanet and to its making lay all the
skill and cunning that we have, and we desire that this should be
 the most marvellous ornament that the Earth has seen, and the
greatest of the works of Elves and Dwarves. Therefore we beg of
thee to let us have that Silmaril that thou treasurest, that it may
shine wondrously amid the Nauglafring, the Necklace of the
Dwarves."
Then again did Tinwelint doubt Ufedhin's purpose, yet did he
yield the boon, an they would suffer him to be present at that
smithying.

None are that yet live,' quoth Ailios,' 'who have seen that most
glorious thing, save only' Littleheart son of Bronweg, yet are
many things told thereof. Not only was it wrought with the
greatest skill and subtlety in the world but it had a magic power,
and there was,no throat so great or so slender whereon it sat not
with grace and loveliness. Albeit a weight beyond belief of gold
was used in the making, lightly it hung upon its wearer as a strand
of flax; and all such as clasped it about their necks seemed, as it
hung upon their breasts, to be of goodly countenance, and women
seemed most fair. Gems uncounted were there in that carcanet of
gold, yet only as a setting that did prepare for its great central
glory, and led the eye thereto, for amidmost hung like a little lamp
of limpid fire the Silmaril of Feanor, jewel of the Gods. Yet alas,
even had that gold of the Rodothlim held no evil spell still had that
carcanet been a thing of little luck, for the Dwarves were full of
bitterness, and all its links were twined with baleful thoughts.
Now however did they bear it before the king in its new-gleaming
splendour; and then was the joy of Tinwelint king of the woodland
Elves come to its crowning, and he cast the Nauglafring about his
throat, and straightway the curse of Mim fell upon him. Then said
Ufedhin: "Now, 0 Lord, that thou art pleased beyond thy hope,
perchance thou wilt grant the craftsmen thy kingly reward, and
suffer them to depart also in joy to their own lands."
But Tinwelint, bewildered by the golden spell and the curse of
Mim, liked not the memory of his tryst; yet dissembling he bid the
craftsmen come before him, and he praised their handiwork with
royal words. At length said he: "'Twas said to me by one Ufedhin
that at the end such reward as ye wished ye would name before me,
yet would it be small enough, seeing that the labour was of love
and of Ufedhin's desire that the golden hoard be not cast away and
lost. What then do ye wish that I may grant?"
Then said Ufedhin scornfully: "For myself, nothing, 0 Lord;
indeed the guestkindliness of thy halls for seven moons and three
is more than I desire." But the Dwarves said-:-"This do we ask.
For our labours during seven moons each seven jewels of Valinor,
and seven robes of magic that only Gwendelin o can weave, and
each a sack of gold; but for our great labour during three moons in
thy halls unwilling, we ask each three sacks of silver, and each a
cup of gold wherein to pledge thy health, 0 King, and each a fair
maiden of the woodland Elves to fare away with us to our homes."
Then was King Tinwelint wroth indeed, for what the Dwarves
had asked was of itself a goodly treasury, seeing that their


company was very great; and he had no mind thus to devour the
 dragon's hoard, but never could he deliver maidens of the Elves
:- unto illshapen Dwarves without undying shame.
Now that demand they had made only by the design of Ufedhin,
yet seeing the anger of the king's face they said: "Nay, but this is
not all, for in payment of Ufedhin's captivity for seven moons
seven stout Elves must come with us and abide seven times seven
 years among us as bondsmen and menials in our labour."
Thereat arose Tinwelint from his seat, and calling summoned
 his weaponed thanes and warriors, that these surrounded the
 Nauglath and those Gnomes. Then said he: "For your insolence
 each three stripes with stinging withes shall ye receive, and
Ufedhin seven, and afterwards will we speak of recompense."
When this was done, and a flame of bitter vengeance lit in those
deep hearts, he said: "Lo, for your labour of seven months six
pieces of gold and one of silver each shall have, and for your
labours in my halls each three pieces of gold and some small gem
that I can spare. For your journey hither a great feast shall ye eat
and depart with good store against your return, and ere ye go ye
 shall drink to Tinwelint in elfin wine; yet, mark ye, for the
sustenance of Ufedhin seven idle months about my halls shall ye
each pay a piece of gold, and of silver two, for he has not aughth
imself and shall not receive since he desires it not, yet methinks
he is at the bottom of your arrogance."
Then were the Dwarves paid their reward like common smiths
of bronze and iron, and constrained to yield once more therefrom
payment for Ufedhin -- "else," said the king, "never shall ye get
him hence." Then sat they to a great feast and dissembled their
mood; yet at the end the time of their going came, and they drank
to Tinwelint in elfin wine, but they cursed him in their beards,
and Ufedhin swallowed not and spat the wine from his mouth
upon the threshold.
Now tells the tale that the Nauglath fared home again, and if
their greed had been kindled when first the gold was brought to
Nogrod now was it a fierce flame of desire, and moreover they
burnt under the insults of the king. Indeed all that folk love
gold and silver more dearly than aught else on Earth, while that
 treasury was haunted by a spell and by no means were they armed
against it. Now one there had been, Fangluin * the aged, who had
Counselled them from the first never to return the king's loan, for
 (* In the margin of the manuscript is written: Fangluin: Bluebeard.)

said he: "Ufedhin we may later seek by guile to release, if it
seem good," but at that time this seemed not policy to Naugladur
their lord, who desired not warfare with the Elves.Yet now did
Fangluin jeer at them mightily on their return, saying they had
flung away their labour for a botcher's wage and a draught of wine
and gotten dishonour thereto, and he played upon their lust, and
Ufedhin joined his bitter words thereto. Therefore did Naugladur
hold a secret council of the Dwarves of Nogrod, and sought
how he might both be avenged upon Tinwelint, and sate his
Yet after long pondering he saw not how he might achieve his
purpose save by force, and there was little hope therein, both by
reason of the great strength of numbers of the Elves of Artanor
in those days, and of the woven magic of Gwenniel that guarded
all those regions, so that men of hostile heart were lost and came
not to those woods; nor indeed could any such come thither
unaided by treachery from within.
Now even as those aged ones sat in their dark halls and gnawed
their beards, behold a sound of horns, and messengers were come
from Bodruith of the Indrafangs, a kindred of the Dwarves that
dwelt in other realms. Now these brought tidings of the death of
Mim the fatherless at the hand of Urin and the rape of Glorund's
gold, which tale had but new come to Bodruith's ears. Now
hitherto the Dwarves knew not the full tale concerning that
hoard, nor more than Ufedhin might tell hearing the speech in
Tinwelint's halls, and Urin had not spoken the full count thereof
ere he departed. Hearing therefore these tidings new wrath
was added to their lust and a clamour arose among them, and
Naugladur vowed to rest not ere Mim was thrice avenged -- "and,
more," said he, "meseems the gold belongs of right to the people of
the Dwarves."
This then was the design; and by his deeds have the Dwarves
been severed in feud for ever since those days with the Elves, and
drawn more nigh in friendship to the kin of Melko. Secretly he
let send to the Indrafangs that they prepare their host against
a day that he would name, whenso the time should be ripe; and a
hidden forging of bitter steel then was in Belegost the dwelling
of the Indrafangs. Moreover he gathered about him a great host of
the Orcs, and wandering goblins, promising them a good wage,
and the pleasure of their Master moreover, and a rich booty at the
end; and all these he armed with his own weapons. Now came
unto Naugladur an Elf, and he was one of Tinwelint's folk, and

he offered to lead that host through the magics of Gwendelin,
for he was bitten by the gold-lust of Glorund's hoard, and so
did the curse of Mim come upon Tinwelint and treachery first
arose among the Elves of Artanor. Then did Naugladur [?smile]
 bitterly, for he knew that the time was ripe and Tinwelint
 delivered to him. Now each year about the time of the great
wolf-hunt of Beren Tinwelint was wont to keep the memory of
that day by a hunt in the woods, and it was a very mighty chase
and thronged with very many folk, and nights of merriment and
feasting were there in the forest. Now Naugladur learnt of that Elf
Narthseg, whose name is bitter to the Eldar yet, that the king
would fare a-hunting at the next high moon but one, and straight-
way he sent the trysted sign, a bloodstained knife, to Bodruith at
Belegost. Now all that host assembled on the confines of the
woods, and no word came yet unto the king.
Now tells the tale that one came unto Tinwelint, and Tinwelint
knew him not for the wild growth of his hair -- and lo! it was
Mablung, and he said: "Lo, even in the depths of the forest have
we heard that this year you will celebrate the death of Karkaras
with a high-tide greater than even before, 0 King -- and behold Iha
ve returned to bear you company." And the king was full ofmi
rth and fain to greet Mablung the brave; and at the wordsof
Mablung that Huan captain of Dogs was come also into Artanor
was he glad indeed.
Behold now Tinwelint the king rode forth a-hunting, and more
glorious was his array than ever aforetime, and the helm of gold
was above his flowing locks, and with gold were the trappings of
his steed adorned; and the sunlight amid the trees fell upon his
face, and it seemed to those that beheld it like to the glorious faceof
the sun at morning; for about his throat was clasped the
Nauglafring, the Necklace of the Dwarves. Beside him rode
Mablung the Heavyhand in the place of honour by reason of his
deeds at that great hunt aforetime -- but Huan of the Dogs was
ahead of the hunters, and men thought that great dog bore him
strangely, but mayhap there was something in the wind that day
liked not.
Now is the king far in the woods with all his company, and the
horns grow faint in the deep forest, but Gwendelin- sits in her
bower and foreboding is in her heart and eyes. Then said an
Elfmaid, Nielthi: "Wherefore, 0 Lady, art thou sorrowful at the
hightide of the king?" And Gwendelin said: "Evil seeks our land,
and my heart misgives me that my days in Artanor are speeding to



their end, yet if I should lose Tinwelint then would I wish never to
have wandered forth from Valinor." But Nielthi said: "Nay, O
Lady Gwendelin, hast thou not woven great magic all about us, so
that we fear not?" But the queen made answer: "Yet meseems
there is a rat that gnaws the threads and all the web has come
unwoven.> Even at that word there was a cry about the doors, and
suddenly it grew to a fierce noise... by the clash of steel. Then
went Gwendelin unafraid forth from her bower, and behold, a
sudden multitude of Orcs and Indrafangs held the bridge, and
there was war within the cavernous gates; but that place ran with
blood, and a great heap of slain lay there, for the onset had been
secret and all unknown.
Then did Gwendelin know well that her foreboding was true,
and that treachery had found her realm at last, yet did she hearten
those few guards that remained to her and had fared not to the
hunt, and valiantly they warded the palace of the king until the
tide of numbers bore them back [and] fire and blood found all the
halls and deep ways of that great fortress of the Elves.
Then did those Orcs and Dwarves ransack all the chambers
seeking for treasure, and lo! one came and sate him in the high seat
of the king laughing loud, and Gwendelin saw that it was Ufedhin,
and mocking he bid her be seated in her ancient seat beside the
king's. Then Gwendelin gazed upon him so that his glance fell,
and she said: "Wherefore, 0 renegade, dost thou defile my lord's
seat? Little had I thought to see any of the Elves sit there, a
robber, stained with murder, a league-fellow of the truceless
enemies of his kin. Or thinkest thou it is a glorious deed to assail an
ill-armed house what time its lord is far away?" But Ufedhin said
nought, shunning the bright eyes of Gwendelin, wherefore said
she anew: "Get thee now gone with thy foul Orcs, lest Tinwelint
coming repay thee bitterly."
Then at last did Ufedhin answer, and he laughed, but ill at ease,
and he looked not at the queen, but he said listening to a sound
without: "Nay, but already is he come." And behold, Naugladur
entered now and a host of the Dwarves were about him, but he
bore the head of Tinwelint crowned and helmed in gold; but the
necklace of all wonder was clasped about the throat of Naugladur.
Then did Gwendelin see in her heart all that had befallen, and
how the curse of the gold had fallen on the realm of Artanor, and
never has she danced or sung since that dark hour; but Naugladur
bid gather all things of gold or silver or of precious stones and bear
them to Nogrod -- "and whatso remains of goods or folk may the,

Orcs keep, or slay, as they desire. Yet the Lady Gwendelin Queen
of Artanor shall fare with me."
Then said Gwendelin: "Thief and murderer, child of Melko,
yet art thou a fool, for thou canst not see what hangs over thine
own head." By reason of the anguish of her heart was her sight
grown very clear, and she read by her fay-wisdon the curse of Mim
and much of what would yet betide.
Then did Naugladur in his triumph laugh till his beard shook,
and bid seize her: but none might do so, for as they came towards
her they groped as if in sudden dark, or stumbled and fell tripping
each the other, and Gwendelin went forth from the places of her
abode, and her bitter weeping filled the forest. Now did a great
darkness fall upon her mind and her counsel and lore forsook her,
at she wandered she knew not whither for a great while; and this
was by reason of her love for Tinwelint the king, for whom she had
chosen never to fare back to Valinor and the beauty of the Gods,
dwelling always in the wild forests of the North; and now did there
seem to her neither beauty nor joy be it in Valinor or in the
Lands Without. Many of the scattered Elves in her wayward
journeyings she met, and they took pity on her, but she heeded
them not. Tales had they told her, but she hearkened not over
much since Tinwelint was dead; nonetheless must ye know how
even in the hour that Ufedhin's host brake the palace and
despoiled it, and other companies as great and as terrible of the
Orcs and Indrafangs fell with death and fire upon all the realm of
Tinwelint, behold the brave hunt of the king were resting amid
mirth and laughter, but Huan stalked apart. Then suddenly were
the woods filled with noise and Huan bayed aloud; but the king
and his company were all encircled with armed foes. Long they
fought bitterly there among the trees, and the Nauglath -- for such
were their foes -- had great scathe of them or ever they were slain.
Yet in the end were they all fordone, and Mablung and the king
fell side by side -- but Naugladur it was who swept off the head of
Tinwelint after he was dead, for living he dared not so near to his
bright sword or the axe of Mablung."
Now doth the tale know no more to tell of Huan, save that even
while the swords still sang that great dog was speeding through
the land, and his way led him as the [?wind] to the land of
i-Guilwarthon, the living-dead, where reigned Beren and Tinuviel
the daughter of Tinwelint. Not in any settled abode did those
twain dwell, nor had their realm boundaries well-marked -- and
indeed no other messenger save Huan alone to whom all ways were

known had ever found Beren and obtained his aid so soon."
Indeed the tale tells that even as that host of the Orcs were burning
all the land of Tinwelint and the Nauglath and the Indrafangin
were wending homeward burdened utterly with spoils of gold and
precious things, came Huan to Beren's lodge, and it was dusk. Lo,
Beren sat upon a tree root and Tinuviel danced on a green sward in
the gloaming as he gazed upon her, when suddenly stood Huan
before them, and Beren gave a cry of joy and wonder, for it was
long since he and Huan had hunted together, But Tinuviel looking
upon Huan saw that he bled, and there was a tale to read in his
great eyes. And she said suddenly: "What evil then has fallen upon
Artanor?" and Huan said: "Fire and death and the terror of Orcs;
but Tinwelint is slain."
Then did both Beren and Tinuviel weep bitter tears; nor did
the full tale of Huan dry their eyes. When then it was told to the
end leapt Beren to his feet in white wrath, and seizing a horn that
hung at his belt he blew a clear blast thereon that rang round all the
neighbouring hills, and an elfin folk all clad in green and brown
sprang as it were by magic towards him from every glade and
coppice, stream and fell.
Now not even Beren knew the tale of those myriad folk that
followed his horn in the woods of Hisilome, and or ever the moon
was high above the hills the host assembled in the glade of his
abiding was very great, yet were they lightly armed and the most
bore only knives and bows. "Yet," said Beren, "speed is that which
now we need the most"; and certain Elves at his bidding fared like
deer before him, seeking news of the march of the Dwarves and
Indrafangs, but at dawn he followed at the head of the green
Elves, and Tinuviel abode in the glade and wept unto herself for
the death of Tinwelint, and Gwendelin also she mourned as dead.
Now is to tell that the laden host of the Dwarves fared from the
place of their ransacking, and Naugladur was at their head, and
beside him Ufedhin and Bodruith; and ever as he rode Ufedhin
sought to put the dread eyes of Gwendelin from his mind and
could not, and all happiness was fled from his heart that shrivelled
under the memory of that glance; nor was this the only disquiet
that tortured him, for if ever he raised his eyes lo! they lighted on
the Necklace of the Dwarves shining about the aged neck of
Naugladur, and then all other thoughts save bottomless desire of
its beauty were banished.
Thus did those three fare and with them all their host, but so
great became the torment of Ufedhin's mind that in the end he
might not endure it more, but at night when a halt was called he
crept stealthily to the place where Naugladur slept, and coming
upon that aged one wrapt in slumbers would slay that Dwarf and
lay hands upon the wondrous Nauglafring. Now even as he sought
to do so, behold one seized his throat suddenly from behind, and it
 was Bodruith, who filled with the same lust sought also to make
 that lovely thing his own; but coming upon Ufedhin would slay
him by reason of his kinship to Naugladur. Then did Ufedhin stab
 suddenly backward at hazard in the dark with a keen knife long
 and slender that he had with him for the bane of Naugladur, and
 that knife pierced the vitals of Bodruith Lord of Belegost so that he
fell dying upon Naugladur, and the throat of Naugladur and the
magic carcanet were drenched anew with blood.
Thereat did Naugladur awake with a great cry, but Ufedhin fled
gasping from that place, for the long fingers of the Indrafang had
well-nigh choked him. Now when some bore torches swiftly to
that place Naugladur thought that Bodruith alone had sought to
 rob him of the jewel, and marvelled how he had thus been timely
slain, and he proclaimed a rich reward to the slayer of Bodruith if
 that man would come forward telling all that he had seen. Thus
was it that none perceived the flight of Ufedhin for a while, and
 wrath awoke between the Dwarves of Nogrod and the Indrafangs,
and many were slain ere the Indrafangs being in less number were
scattered and got them as best they might to Belegost, bearing
scant treasury with them. Of this came the agelong feud between
those kindreds of the Dwarves that has spread to many lands and
 caused many a tale, whereof the Elves know little tidings and Men
have seldom heard. Yet may it be seen how the curse of Mim came
early home to rest among his own kin, and would indeed it had
gone no further and had visited the Eldar never more.
Lo, when the Aight of Ufedhin came also to light then was
Naugladur in wrath, and he let kill all the Gnomes that remained
in the host. Then said he: "Now are we rid of Indrafangs and
Gnomes and all traitors, and nought more do I fear' at all."
But Ufedhin ranged the wild lands in great fear and anguish, for
him seemed that he had become a traitor to his kin, blood-guilty to
the Elves, and haunted with the [? burning] eyes of Gwendelin the
queen, for nought but exile and misery, and no smallest part nor
share had he in the gold of Glorund, for all his heart was afire with
: lust; yet few have pitied him.
Now tells the tale that he fell in with the rangers of Beren's folk,
and these gaining from him sure knowledge of all the host and

array of Naugladur and the ways he purposed to follow, they sped
back like wind among the trees unto their lord; but Ufedhin
revealed not to them who he was, feigning to be an Elf of Artanor
escaped from bondage in their host. Now therefore they entreated
him well, and he was sent back to Beren that their captain might
............ his words, and albeit Beren marvelled at his
[?cowardly]......" and downward glance it seemed to him that
he brought safe word, and he set a trap for Naugladur.
No longer did he march hotly on the trail of the Dwarves, but
knowing that they would essay the passage of the river Aros at a
certain time he turned aside, faring swiftly with his light-footed
Elves by straighter paths that he might reach Sarnathrod the
Stony Ford before them. Now the Aros is a fierce stream -- and is it
not that very water that more near its spring runs swiftly past the
aged doors of the Rodothlim's caves and the dark lairs of Glorund'
-- and in those lower regions by no means can be crossed by a great
host of laden men save at this ford, nor is it overeasy here. Never
would Naugladur have taken that way had he knowledge of Beren
-- yet blinded by the spell and the dazzling gold he feared nought
either within or without his host, and he was in haste to reach
Nogrod and its dark caverns, for the Dwarves list not long to abide
in the bright light of day.
Now came all that host to the banks of Aros, and their array was
thus: first a number of unladen Dwarves most fully armed, and
amidmost the great company of those that bore the treasury of
Glorund, and many a fair thing beside that they had haled from
Tinwelint's halls; and behind these was Naugladur, and he bestrode
Tinwelint's horse, and a strange figure did he seem, for the legs of
the Dwarves are short and crooked, but two Dwarves led that
horse for it went not willingly and it was laden with spoil. But
behind these came again a mass of armed men but little laden; and
in this array they sought to cross Sarnathrod on their day of doom.
Morn was it when they reached the hither bank and high noon
saw them yet passing in long-strung lines and wading slowly the
shallow places of the swift-running stream. Here doth it widen out
and fare down narrow channels filled with boulders atween long
. spits of shingle and stones less great. Now did Naugladur slip
from his burdened horse and prepare to get him over, for the
armed host of the vanguard had climbed already the further bank,
and it was great and sheer and thick with trees, and the bearers of
the gold were some already stepped thereon and some amidmost
of the stream, but the armed men of the rear were resting awhile.

Suddenly is all that place filled with the sound of elfin horns,
and one....." with a clearer blast above the rest, and it is the
horn of Beren, the huntsman of the woods. Then is the air thick
with the slender arrows of the Eldar that err not neither doth the
wind bear them aside, and lo, from every tree and boulder do the
brown Elves and the green spring suddenly and loose unceasingly
from full quivers. Then was there a panic and a noise in the host of
Naugladur, and those that waded in the ford cast their golden
burdens in the waters and sought affrighted to either bank, but
many were stricken with those pitiless darts and fell with their
gold into the currents of the Aros, staining its clear waters with
their dark blood.
Now were the warriors on the far bank [? wrapped] in battle and
rallying sought to come at their foes, but these fled nimbly before
them, while [?others] poured still the hail of arrows upon them,
and thus got the Eldar few hurts and the Dwarf-folk fell dead
unceasingly. Now was that great fight of the Stony Ford......
nigh to Naugladur, for even though Naugladur and his captains
led their bands stoutly never might they grip their foe, and death
fell like rain upon their ranks until the most part broke and fled,
and a noise of clear laughter echoed from the Elves thereat, and
they forebore to shoot more, for the illshapen figures of the
Dwarves as they fled, their white beards tornby the wind, filled
them [with] mirth. But now stood Naugladur and few were about
him, and he remembered the words of Gwendelin, for behold,
Beren came towards him and he cast aside his bow, and drew a
bright sword; and Beren was of great stature among the Eldar,
albeit not of the girth and breadth of Naugladur of the Dwarves.
Then said Beren: "Ward thy life an thou canst, 0 crook-legged
murderer, else will I take it," and Naugladur bid him even the
Nauglafring, the necklace of wonder, that he be suffered to go
unharmed; but Beren said: "Nay, that may I still take when thou
art slain," and thereat he made alone upon Naugladur and his
companions, and having slain the foremost of these the others fled
away amid elfin laughter, and so Beren came upon Naugladur,
slayer of Tinwelint. Then did that aged one defend himself
doughtily, and 'twas a bitter fight, and many of the Elves that
watched for love and fear of their captain fingered their bow-
strings, but Beren called even as he fought that all should stay
their hands.
Now little doth the tale tell of wounds and blows of that affray,
save that Beren got many hurts therein', and many of his shrewdest

blows did little harm to Naugladur by reason of the [?skill] and
magic of his dwarfen mail; and it is said that three hours they
fought and Beren's arms grew weary, but not those of Naugladur
accustomed to wield his mighty hammer at the forge, and it is
more than like that otherwise would the issue have been but for the
curse of Mim; for marking how Beren grew faint Naugladur
pressed him ever more nearly, and the arrogance that was of
that grievous spell came into his heart, and he thought: "I will
slay this Elf, and his folk will flee in fear before me," and
grasping his sword he dealt a mighty blow and cried: "Take here
thy bane, 0 stripling of the woods," and in that moment his
foot found a jagged stone and he stumbled forward, but Beren
slipped aside from that blow and catching at his beard his hand
found the carcanet of gold, and therewith he swung Naugladur
suddenly off his feet upon his face: and Naugladur's sword was
shaken from his grasp, but Beren seized it and slew him therewith,
for he said: "I will not, sully my bright blade with thy dark blood,
since there is no need." But the body of Naugladur was cast into
the Aros.
Then did he unloose the necklace, and he gazed in wonder at it-
and beheld the Silmaril, even the jewel he won from Angband and
gained undying glory by his deed; and he said: "Never have mine
eyes beheld thee O Lamp of Faery burn one half so fair as now
thou dost, set in gold and gems and the magic of the Dwarves";
and that necklace he caused to be washed of its stains, and he cast it
not away, knowing nought of its power, but bore it with him back
into the woods of Hithlum.
But the waters of Aros flowed on for ever above the drowned
hoard of Glorund, and so do still, for in after days Dwarves came
from Nogrod and sought for it, and for the body of Naugladur;
but a flood arose from the mountains and therein the seekers
Ford that none seek the treasure that it guards nor dare ever to
cross the magic stream at that enchanted place.
But in the vales of Hithlum was there gladness at the home-
coming of the Elves, and great was the joy of Tinuviel to see her
lord once more returning amidst his companies, but little did it
ease her grief for the death of Tinwelint that Naugladur was
slain and many Dwarves beside. Then did Beren seek to comfort
her, and taking her in his arms he set the glorious Nauglafring
about her neck, and all were blinded by the greatness of her
beauty; and Beren said: "Behold the Lamp of Feanor that thou

and I did win from Hell," and Tinuviel smiled, remembering the
first days of their love and those days of travail in the wild.
Now is it to be said that Beren sent for Ufedhin and well
rewarded him for his words of true guidance whereof the Dwarves
had been overcome, and he bid him dwell in.... among his folk,an
d Ufedhin was little loth; yet on a time, no great space there-
 after, did that thing betide which he least desired. For came there
a sound of very sorrowful singing in the woods, and behold, it was
Gwendelin wandering distraught, and her feet bore her to the
midmost of a glade where sat Beren and Tinuviel; and at that hour
it was new morning, but at the sound all nigh ceased their speaking
 and were very still. Then did Beren gaze in awe upon Gwendelin,
 but Tinuviel cried suddenly in sorrow mixed with joy: "0 mother
Gwendelin, whither do thy feet bear thee, for methought thee
dead"; but the greeting of those twain upon the greensward was
very sweet. And Ufedhin fled from among the Elves, for he could
not endure to look upon the eyes of Gwendelin, and madness took
him, and none may say what was his unhappy weird thereafter;
and little but a tortured heart got he from the Gold of Glorund.
Now hearing the cries of Ufedhin Gwendelin looked in wonder
after him, and stayed her tender words; and memory came back
into her eyes so that she cried as in amaze beholding the Necklace
of the Dwarves that hung about the white throat of Tinuviel.
Then wrathfully she asked of Beren what it might portend, and
wherefore he suffered the accursed thing to touch Tinuviel; and
told Beren" all that tale such as Huan had told him, in deed or
guess, and of the pursuit and fighting at the ford he told also,
saying at the end: "Nor indeed do I see who, now that Lord
Tinwelint is fared to Valinor, should so fittingly wear that jewel of
the Gods as Tinuviel." But Gwendelin told of the dragon's ban
upon the gold and the [? staining] of blood in the king's halls, "and
 yet another and more potent curse, whose arising I know not, is
 woven therewith," said she, "nor methinks was the labour of the
Dwarves free from spells of the most enduring malice." But Beren
laughed, saying that the glory of the Silmaril and its holiness
might overcome all such evils, even as it burnt the [? foul] flesh of
Karkaras. "Nor," said he, "have I seen ever my Tinuviel so fair as
 now she is, clasped in the loveliness of this thing of gold"; but
Gwendelin said: "Yet the Silmaril abode in the Crown of Melko,
and that is the work of baleful smiths indeed."
Then said Tinuviel that she desired not things of worth
or precious stones but the elfin gladness of the forest, and to

pleasure Gwendelin she cast it from her neck; but Beren was little
pleased and he would not suffer it to be flung away, but warded it
in his........."
Thereafter did Gwendelin abide a while in the woods among
them and was healed; and in the end she fared wistfully back to the
land of Lorien and came never again into the tales of the dwellers
of Earth; but upon Beren and Tinuviel fell swiftly that doom of
mortality that Mandos had spoken when he sped them from his
halls -- and in this perhaps did the curse of Mim have [? potency] in
that it came more soon upon them; nor this time did those twain
fare the road together, but when yet was the child of those twain,
Dior" the Fair, a little one, did Tinuviel slowly fade, even as the
Elves of later days have done throughout the world, and she
vanished in the woods, and none have seen her dancing ever there
again. But Beren searched all the lands of Hithlum and of Artanor
ranging after her; and never has any of the Elves had more
loneliness than his, or ever he too faded from life, and Dior his son
was left ruler of the brown Elves and the green, and Lord of the
Nauglafring.
Mayhap what all Elves say is true, that those twain hunt now in
the forest of Orome in Valinor, and Tinuviel dances on the green
swards of Nessa and of Vana daughters of the Gods for ever more;
yet great was the grief of the Elves when the Guilwarthon went
from among them, and being leaderless and lessened of magic
their numbers minished; and many fared away to Gondolin, the
rumour of whose growing power and glory ran in secret whispers
among all the Elves.
Still did Dior when come to manhood rule a numerous folk, and
he loved the woods even as Beren had done; and songs name him
mostly Ausir the Wealthy for his possession of that wondrous gem
set in the Necklace of the Dwarves. Now the tales of Beren and
Tinuviel grew dim in his heart, and he took to wearing it about his
neck' and to love its loveliness most dearly; and the fame of that
jewel spread like fire through all the regions of the North, and the
Elves said one to another: "A Silmaril of Feanor burns in the"
woods of Hisilome."
Now fare the long days of Elfinesse unto that time when Tuor
dwelt in Gondolin; and children then had Dior the Elf,' Auredhir
and Elwing, and Auredhir was most like to his forefather Beren,
and all loved him, yet none so dearly as did Dior; but Elwing the
fairy have all poesies named as beautiful as Tinuviel if that
indeed may be, yet hard is it to say seeing the great loveliness.

of the elfin folk of yore. Now those were days of happiness in the
vales of Hithlum, for there was peace with Melko and the Dwarves
who had but one thought as they plotted against Gondolin, and
Angband was full of labour; yet is it to tell that bitterness entered
into the hearts of the seven sons of Feanor, remembering their
oath. Now Maidros, whom Melko maimed, was their leader; and
he called to his brethren Maglor and Dinithel, and to Damrod,
and to Celegorm, to Cranthor and to Curufin the Crafty, and he
said to them how it was now known to him that a Silmaril of those
their father Feanor had made was now the pride and glory of Dior
of the southern vales, "and Elwing his daughter bears it whitherso
she goes -- but do you not forget," said he, "that we swore to have
no peace with Melko nor any of his folk, nor with any other of
Earth-dwellers that held the Silmarils of Feanor from us. For
what," said Maidros, "do we suffer exile and wandering and rule
over a scant and forgotten folk, if others gather to their hoard the
heirlooms that are ours?"
Thus was it that they sent Curufin the Crafty to Dior, and told
him of their oath, and bid him give that fair jewel back unto those
whose right it was; but Dior gazing on the loveliness of Elwing
would not do so, and he said that he could not endure that the
Nauglafring, fairest of earthly craft, be so despoiled. "Then," said
Curufin, "must the Nauglafring unbroken be given to the sons of
Feanor," and Dior waxed wroth, bidding him be gone, nor dare to
claim what his sire Beren the Onehanded won with his hand from
the [?jaws] of Melko -- "other twain are there in the selfsame
place," said he, "an your hearts be bold enow."
Then went Curufin unto his brethren, and because of their
unbreakable oath and of their [? thirst] for that Silmaril (nor
indeed was the spell of Mim and of the dragon wanting) they
planned war upon Dior -- and the Eldar cry shame upon them for
that deed, the first premeditated war of elfin folk upon elfin folk,
whose name otherwise were glorious among the Eldalie for their
sufferings. Little good came thereby to them; for they fell
unawares upon Dior, and Dior and Auredhir were slain, yet
behold, Evranin the nurse of Elwing, and Gereth a Gnome-, took
her unwilling in a flight swift and sudden from those lands, and
they bore with them the Nauglafring, so that the sons of Feanor
saw it not; but a host of Dior's folk, coming with all speed yet late
unto the fray, fell suddenly on their rear, and there was a great
battle, and Maglor was slain with swords, and Mai....~ died of
wounds in the wild, and Celegorm was pierced with a hundred


arrows, and Cranthor beside him. Yet in the end were the sons of
Feanor masters of the field of slain, and the brown Elves and the
green were scattered over all the lands unhappy, for they would
not hearken to Maidros the maimed, nor to Curufin and Damrod
who had slain their lord; and it is said that even on the day of
that battle of the Elves Melko sought against Gondolin, and the
fortunes of the Elves came to their uttermost waning.
Now was naught left of the seed of Beren Ermabwed son of
Egnor save Elwing the Lovely, and she wandered in the woods,
and of the brown Elves and the green a few gathered to her, and
they departed for ever from the glades of Hithlum and got them to
the south towards Sirion's deep waters, and the pleasant lands.
And thus did all the fates of the fairies weave then to one strand,
and that strand is the great tale of Earendel; and to that tale's true
beginning are we now come.'
Then said Ailios: 'And methinks that is tale enow for this time
of telling.'
NOTES.
1. This sentence is a rewriting of the text, which had originally:
"Nay then, know ye not that this gold belongs to the kindred of
the Elves, who won it from the earth long time ago, and no one
among Men has claim..."
The remainder of this scene, ending with the slaughter of Urin's
band, was rewritten at many points, with the same object as in the
passage just cited -- to convert Urin's band from Men to Elves, as
was done also at the end of Eltas' t ale( see p. 118 note 33). Thus
original 'Elves' waschanged to 'Elves of the wood, woodland Elves',
and original 'Men' to 'folk, outlaws'; and see notes 2, 3, 5.
2. The original sentence here was:
Doughty were those Men and great wielders of sword and axe,
and still in those unfaded days might mortal weapons wound the
bodies of the elfin-folk.
See note t.
3. The original sentence here was: 'and those Men being wildered with
magics'. See note 1.
4. This sentence, from 'and yet another sorrow...', was added to the
text later.
5. 'those': the text has 'the Men', obviously left unchanged through
oversight. See note 1.


6. 'in the earth' is an emendation of the original reading 'on the earth'.7.
 'damasked in strange wise', i.e. 'damascened', ornamentally inlaid
with designs in gold and silver. The word 'damascened' is used of
the sword of Tinwelint made by the Dwarves, on which were seen
images of the wolf-hunt (p. 227), and of Glorfindel's arms (p. 173).
8. The text has 'Eltas', but with 'Ailios' written above in pencil. Since
Ailios appears as the teller at the beginning of the tale, and not as the
result of emendation, 'Eltas' here was probably no more than a slip.
9. 'save only' is a later emendation of the original 'not even'. See p. 256.
10. It is odd that Gwendelin appears here, not Gwenniel as hitherto in
this tale. Since the first part of the tale is in ink over an erased pencil
text, the obvious explanation is that the erased text had Gwendelin
and that my father changed this to Gwenniel as he went along,
overlooking it in this one instance. But the matter is probably more
complex -- one of those small puzzles with which the texts of the Last
Tales abound -- for after the manuscript in ink ceases the form
Gwenniel occurs, though once only, and Gwendelin is then used
for all the rest of the tale. See Changes made to Names, p. 244.11.
Here the manuscript in ink ends; see p. 221.12.
Against this sentence my father wrote a direction that the story was
to be that the Nauglafring caught in the bushes and held the king.
13. A rejected passage in the manuscript here gives an earlier version of
the events, according to which it was Gwendelin, not Huan, who
brought the news to Beren:
... and her bitter weeping filled the forest. Now there did
Gwendeling [sic] gather to her many of the scattered woodland
Elves and of them did she hear how matters had fared even as she
had guessed: how the hunting party had been surrounded and
o'erwhelmed by the Nauglath while the Indrafangs and Orcs fell
suddenly with death and fire upon all the realm of Tinwelint, and
not the least host was that of Ufedhin that slew the guardians of
the bridge; and it was said that Naugladur had slain Tinwelint
when he was borne down by numbers, and folk thought Narthseg
a wild Elf had led the foemen hither, and he had been slain in the
fighting.
Then seeing no hope Gwendelin and her companions fared
with the utmost speed out of that land of sorrow, even to the
kingdom of i- Guilwarthon in Hisilome, where reigned Beren and
Tinuviel her daughter. Now Beren and Tinuviel lived not in any
settled abode, nor had their realm boundaries well-marked, and
no other messenger save Gwendelin daughter of the Vali had of a
surety found those twain the living-dead so soon.

It is clear from the manuscript that the return of Mablung and Huan
to Artanor and their presence at the hunt (referred to in general
terms at the end of the Tale of Tinuviel, p. 41) was added to the


14.
15.
16.
17.
18.
19.
20.
21.
tale, and with this new element went the change in Gwendelin's
movements immediately after the disaster. But though the textual
history is here extremely hard to interpet, what with erasures and j
additions on loose pages, I think it is almost certain that this
reshaping was done while the original composition 0f the tale was
still in progress.
The first of these lacunae that I have left in the text contains two
words, the first possibly 'believe' and the second probably 'best'. In
the second lacuna the word might conceivably be 'pallor'.
This sentence, from 'and is it not that very water...', is struck
through and bracketed, and in the margin my father scribbled: 'No
[?that] is Narog.'
The illegible word might be 'brays': the word 'clearer' is an
emendation from 'hoarser'.
'and told Beren': i.e., 'and Beren told'. The text as first written had
'Then told Beren...'
The illegible word might just possibly be 'treasury', but I do not
think that it is.
Dior replaced the name Ausir, which however occurs below as
another name for Dior.
'Dior the Elf' is an emendation from 'Dior then an aged Elf'.
The latter part of this name is quite unclear: it might be read as
Maithog, or as Mailweg. See Changes made to Names under
Dinithel.
Changes made to names in
The Tale of the Nauglafring.
Ilfiniol (p. 221) here so written from the first: see p. 201.
Gwenniel is used throughout the revised section of the tale except at
the last occurrence (p. 228), where the form is Gwendelin; in the
pencilled part of the tale at the first occurrence of the queen's name it
is again Gwenniel (p. 230), but thereafter always Gwendelin (see
note 10).
The name of the queen in the Lost Tales is as variable as that
of Littleheart. In The Chaining of Melko and The Coming of
the Elves she is Tindriel > Wendelin. In the Tale of Tinuviel
she is Wendelin > Cwendeling (see p. 50); in the type-
script text of Tinuviel Gwenethlin > Melian; in the Tale
of Turambar Gwendeling > Gwedheling; in the present tale
Cwendelin/Gwenniel (the form Gwendeling occurs in the
rejected passage given in note 13); and in the Gnomish dictionary
Cwendeling > Cwedhiling.
Belegost At the first occurrence (p. 230) the manuscript has Ost
Belegost, with Ost circled as if for rejection, and Belegost is the
reading subsequently.

(i-)Cuilwarthon In the Tale of Tinuviel, p. 41, the form is
i-Cuilwarthon. At the occurrence on p. 240 the ending of the
name does not look like -on, but as I cannot say what it is I give
Guilwarthon in the text.
Dinithel could also be read as Durithel (p. 241). This name was written
in later in ink over an earlier name in pencil now scarcely legible,
though clearly the same as that beginning Mai.... which appears
for this son of Feanor subsequently (see note 21).
Commentary on
The Tale of the Nauglafring.
In this commentary I shall not compare in detail the Tale of the
Nauglafring with the story told in The Silmarillion (Chapter 22, Of the
Ruin of Doriath). The stories are profoundly different in essential
features -- above all, in the reduction of the treasure brought by Hurin
from Nargothrond to a single object, the Necklace of the Dwarves, which
had long been in existence (though not, of course, containing the
Silmaril); while the whole history of the relation between Thingol and
the Dwarves is changed. My father never again wrote any part of this
story on a remotely comparable scale, and the formation of the published
text was here of the utmost difficulty; I hope later to give an account of it.
While it is often difficult to differentiate what my father omitted in his
more concise versions (in order to keep them concise) from what he
rejected, it seems clear that a large part of the elaborate narrative of the
Tale of the Nauglafring was early abandoned. In subsequent writing
the story of the fighting between Urin's band and Tinwelint's Elves
disappeared, and there is no trace afterwards of Ufedhin or the other
Gnomes that lived among the Dwarves, of the story that the Dwarves
took half the unwrought gold ('the king's loan') away to Nogrod to
make precious objects from it, of the keeping of Ufedhin hostage, of
Tinwelint's refusal to let the Dwarves depart, of their outrageous
demands, of their scourging and their insulting payment.
We meet here again the strong emphasis on Tinwelint's love of treasure
and lack of it, in contrast to the later conception of his vast wealth (see my
remarks, pp. 128-9). The Silmaril is kept in a wooden casket (p. 225),
Tinwelint has no crown but a wreath of scarlet leaves (p. 227), and he
is far less richly clad and accoutred than 'the wayfarer in his halls'
(Ufedhin). This is very well in itself -- the Woodland Elf corrupted by
the lure of golden splendour, but it need not be remarked again how
strangely at variance is this picture with that of Thingol Lord of
Beleriand, who had a vast treasury in his marvellous underground realm
of Menegroth, the Thousand Caves -- itself largely contrived by the
Dwarves of Belegost in the distant past (?he Silmarillion pp. 92-3), and
who most certainly did not need the aid of Dwarves at this time to make



him a crown and a fine sword, or vessels to adorn his banquets. Thingol
in the later conception is proud, and stern; he is also wise, and powerful,
and greatly increased in stature and in knowledge through his union with
a Maia. Could such a king have sunk to the level of miserly swindling that
is portrayed in the Tale of the Nauglafring?
Great stress is indeed placed on the enormous size of the hoard -- 'such
mighty heaps of gold have never since been gathered in one place', p. 223
-- which is made so vast that it becomes hard to believe that a band of
wandering outlaws could have brought it to the halls of the woodland
Elves, even granting that 'some was lost upon the way' (p. 114). There is
perhaps some difference here from the account of the Rodothlim and
their works in the Tale of Turambar (p. 81), where there is certainly no
suggestion that the Rodothlim possessed treasures coming out of Valinor
-- though this idea remained through all the vicissitudes of this part of the
story: it is said of the Lord of Nargothrond in The Silmarillion (p. 114)
that 'Finrod had brought more treasures out of Tirion than any other of
the princes of the Noldor'.
More important, the elements of 'spell' and 'curse' are dominant in this
tale, to such a degree that they might almost be said to be the chief actors
in it. The curse of Mim on the gold is felt at every turn of the narrative.
Vengeance for him is one motive in Naugladur's decision to attack the
Elves of Artanor (p. 230). His curse is fulfilled in the 'agelong feud'
between the kindreds of the Dwarves (p. 235) -- of which all trace was
afterwards effaced, with the loss of the entire story of Ufedhin's intent to
steal the Necklace from Naugladur sleeping, the killing of Bodruith Lord
of Belegost, and the fighting between the two clans of Dwarves. Naugladur
was 'blinded by the spell' in taking so imprudent a course out of Artanor
(p. 236); and the curse of Mim is made the 'cause' of his stumbling on a
stone in his fight with Beren (p. 238). It is even, and most surprisingly,
suggested as a reason for the short second lives of Beren and Tinuviel
(p. 240); and finally 'the spell of Mim' is an element in the attack on Dior
by the Feanorians (p. 241). An important element also in the tale is the
baleful nature of the Nauglafring, for the Dwarves made it with bitterness;
and into the complex of curses and spells is introduced also 'the dragon's
ban upon the gold' (p. 239) or 'the spell of the dragon' (p. 241). It is not said
in the Tale of Turambar that Glorund had cursed the gold or enspelled it;
but Mim said to Urin (p. 114): 'Has not Glorund lain long years upon it,
and the evil of the drakes of Melko is on it, and no good can it bring to
Man or Elf.' Most notably, Gwendelin implies, against Beren's assertion
that 'its holiness might overcome all such evils', that the Silmaril itself is
unhallowed, since it 'abode in the Crown of Melko' (p. 239). In the later
of the two 'schemes' for the Lost Tales (see I. 107 note 3) it is said that the
Nauglafring 'brought sickness to Tinuviel'.*
* It is said in the Gnomish dictionary that the curse of Mim was 'appeased'
when the
Nauglafring was lost in the sea; see the Appendix on Names, entry
Nauglafring.)

But however much the chief actors in this tale are 'enspelled' or blindly
carrying forward the mysterious dictates of a curse, there is no
question but that the Dwarves in the original conception were altogether
more ignoble than they afterwards became, more prone to evil to gain
their ends, and more exclusively impelled by greed; that Doriath should
be laid waste by mercenary Orcs under Dwarvish paymasters (p. 230)
was to become incredible and impossible later. It is even said that by the
deeds of Naugladur 'have the Dwarves been severed in feud for ever since
those days with the Elves, and drawn more nigh in friendship to the kin
of Melko' (p. 230); and in the outlines for Gilfanon's Tale the Nauglath
are an evil people, associates of goblins (I. 236 -- 7). In a rejected outline
for the Tale of the Nauglafring (p. 136) the Necklace was made 'by
certain Uvanimor (Nautar or Nauglath)', Uvanimor being defined else-
where as 'monsters, giants, and ogres'. With all this compare The Lord of
the Rings, Appendix F (I): 'They [the Dwarves] are not evil by nature,
and few ever served the Enemy of free will, whatever the tales of Men
may have alleged.'
The account of the Dwarves in this tale is of exceptional interest in
other respects. 'The beards of the Indrafangs' have been named in
Tinuviel's 'lengthening spell' (pp. 19, 46); but this is the first description
of the Dwarves in my father's writings -- already with the spelling that he
maintained against the unceasing opposition of proof-readers -- and they
are eminently recognisable in their dour and hidden natures, in their
'unloveliness' (The Silmarillion p. x 113), and in their 'marvellous skill
with metals' (ibid. p. 92). The strange statement that 'never comes a
child among them' is perhaps to be related to 'the foolish opinion among
Men' referred to in The Lord of the Rings, Appendix A (III), 'that there
are no Dwarf-women, and that the Dwarves "grow out of stone".' In the
same place it is said that 'it is because of the fewness of women among
them that the kind of the Dwarves increases slowly'.
It is also said in the tale that it is thought by some that the Dwarves
'have not heard of Iluvatar'; on knowledge of Iluvatar among Men see
p. 209.
According to the Gnomish dictionary Indrafang was 'a special name
of the Longbeards or Dwarves', but in the tale it is made quite plain that
the Longbeards were on the contrary the Dwarves of Belegost; the
Dwarves of Nogrod were the Nauglath, with their king Naugladur. It
must be admitted however that-the use of the terms is sometimes con-
fusing, or confused: thus the description of the Nauglath on pp. 223 -- 4
seems to be a description of all Dwarves, and to include the Indrafangs,
though this cannot have been intended. The reference to 'the march of
the Dwarves and Indrafangs' (p. 234) must be taken as an ellipse, i.e. 'the
Dwarves of Nogrod and the Indrafangs'. Naugladur of Nogrod and
Bodruith of Belegost are said to have been akin (p. 235), though this
perhaps only means that they were both Dwarves whereas Ufedhin was
an Elf.


The Dwarf-city of Nogrod is said in the tale to lie 'a very long journey
southward beyond the wide forest on the borders of those great heaths
nigh Umboth-muilin the Pools of Twilight, on the marches of Tasarinan'
(p. 225). This could be interpreted to mean that Nogrod was itself 'on the
borders of those great heaths nigh Umboth-muilin'; but I think that this
is out of the question. It would be a most improbable place for Dwarves,
who 'dwell beneath the earth in caves and tunnel)ed towns, and aforetime
Nogrod was the mightiest of these' (p. 224). Though mountains are not
specifically mentioned here in connection with Dwarves, I think it
extremely likely that my father at this time conceived their cities to be in
the mountains, as they were afterwards. Further, there seems nothing to
contradict the view that the configuration of the lands in the Lost Tales
was essentially similar to that of the earliest and later 'Silmarillion' maps;
and on them, 'a very long journey southward' is totally inappropriate to
that between the Thousand Caves and the Pools of Twilight.
The meaning must therefore be, simply, 'a very long journey south-
ward beyond the wide forest', and what follows places the wide forest,
not Nogrod; the forest being, in fact, the Forest of Artanor.
The Pools of Twilight are described in The Fall of Condolin, but the
Elvish name does not there appear (see pp. 195 -- 6, 217).
Whether Belegost was near to or far from Nogrod is not made plain; it
is said in this passage that the gold should be borne away 'to Nogrod and
the dwellings of the Dwarves', but later (p. 230) the Indrafangs are 'a
kindred of the Dwarves that dwelt in other realms'.
In his association with the Dwarves Ufedhin is reminiscent of Eol,
Maeglin's father, of whom it is said in The Silmarillion (p. 133) that 'for
the Dwarves he had more liking than any other of the Elvenfolk of old',
cf. ibid. p. 92: 'Few of the Eldar went ever to Nogrod or Belegost, save
Eol of Nan Elmoth and Maeglin his son.' In the early forms of the story of
Eol and Isfin (referred to in The Fall of Condolin, p. 165) Eol has no
association with Dwarves. In the present tale there is mention (p. 224) of
'great traffic' carried on by the Dwarves 'with the free Noldoli' (with
Melko's servants also) in those days: we may wonder who these free
Noldoli were, since the Rodothlim had been destroyed, and Gondolin
was hidden. Perhaps the sons of Feanor are meant, or Egnor Beren's
father (see p. 65).
The idea that it was the Dwarves of Nogrod who were primarily
involved survived into the later narrative, but they became exclusively
so, and those of Belegost specifically denied all aid to them (?he Sil-
marillion p. 233).
Turning now to the Elves, Beren is here of course still an Elf (see
p. 139), and in his second span of life he is the ruler, in Hithlum --
Hisilome, of an Elvish people so numerous that 'not even Beren knew the
tale of those myriad folk' (p. 234); they are called 'the green Elves' and
'the brown Elves and the green', for they were 'clad in green and brown',


and Dior ruled them in Hithlum after the final departure of Beren and
Tinuviel. Who were they? It is far from clear how they are to be set into
the conception of the Elves of the Great Lands as it appears in other
Tales. We may compare the passage in The Coming of the Elves
(I. 118 -- 19):
Long after the joy of Valinor had washed its memory faint [i.e., the
memory of the journey through Hisilome] the Elves sang still sadly of
it, and told tales of many of their folk whom they said and say were lost
in those old forests and ever wandered there in sorrow. Still were they
there long after when Men were shut in Hisilome by Melko, and still
do they dance there when Men have wandered far over the lighter
places of the Earth. Hisilome did Men name Aryador, and the Lost
Elves did they call the Shadow Folk, and feared them.
But in that tale the conception still was that Tinwelint ruled 'the
scattered Elves of Hisilome', and in the outlines for Gilfanon's Tale the
'Shadow Folk' of Hisilome had ceased to be Elves (see p. 64). In any case,
the expression 'green Elves', coupled with the fact that it was the Green-
elves of Ossiriand whom Beren led to the ambush of the Dwarves at Sarn
Athrad in the later story (The Silmarillion p. 235), shows which Elvish
people they were to become, even though there is as yet no trace of
Ossiriand beyond the river Gelion and the story of the origin of the
Laiquendi (ibid. pp.94, 96).
It was inevitable that 'the land of the dead that live' should cease to be
in Hisilome (which seems to have been in danger of having too many
inhabitants), and a note on the manuscript of the Tale of the Nauglafring
says: 'Beren must be in "Doriath beyond Sirion" on a..... not
in Hithlum.' Doriath beyond Sirion was the region called in The Sil-
marillion (p. 122) Nivrim, the West March, the woods on the west bank
of the river between the confluence of Teiglin and Sirion and Aelin-uial,
the Meres of Twilight. In the Tale of Tinuviel Beren and Tinuviel,
called i Cuilwarthon, 'became mighty fairies in the lands about the north
of Sirion' (p. 41).
Gwendelin/Gwenniel appears a somewhat faint and ineffective figure
by comparison with the Melian of The Silmarillion. Conceivably, an
aspect of this is the far slighter protection afforded to the realm of
Artanor by her magic than that of the impenetrable wall and deluding
mazes of the Girdle of Melian (see p. 63). But the nature of the protection
in the old conception is very unclear. In the Tale of the Nauglafring the
coming of the Dwarves from Nogrod is only known when they approach
the bridge before Tinwelint's caves (p. 226); on the other hand, it is said
(p. 230) that the 'woven magic' of the queen was a defence against 'men of
hostile heart', who could never make their way through the woods unless
aided by treachery from within. Perhaps this provides an explanation of
a sort of how the Dwarves bringing treasure from Nogrod were able to

penetrate to the halls of Tinwelint without hindrance and apparently
undetected (cf. also the coming of Urin's band in the Tale of Turambar,
p. 114). In the event, the protective magic was easily -- too easily --
overthrown by the simple device of a single treacherous Elf of Artanor
who 'offered to lead the host through the magics of Gwendelin'. This was
evidently unsatisfactory; but I shall not enter further into this question
here. Extraordinary difficulties of narrative structure were caused by this
element of the inviolability of Doriath, as I hope to describe at a future
date.
It might be thought that the story of the drowning of the treasure at the
Stony Ford (falling into the waters of the river with the Dwarves who
bore it) was evolved from that in the rejected conclusion of the Tale of
Turambar (p. 136) -- Tinwelint 'hearing that curse [set on the treasure by
Urin] caused the gold to be cast into a deep pool of the river before his
doors'. In the Taleof the Nauglafring, however, Tinwelint, influenced
by the queen's foreboding words, still has the intention of doing this, but
does not fulfil his intention (p. 223).
The account of the second departure of Beren and Tinuviel (p. 240)
raises again the extremely difficult question of the peculiar fate that
was decreed for them by the edict of Mandos, which I have discussed on
pp. 59 -- 60. There I have suggested that
the peculiar dispensation of Mandos in the case of Beren and Tinuviel
as here conceived is therefore that their whole 'natural' destiny as Elves
was changed: having died as Elves might die (from wounds or from
grief) they were not reborn as new beings, but returned in their own
persons- yet now 'mortal even as Men'.
Here however Tinuviel 'faded', and vanished in the woods; and Beren
searched all Hithlum and Artanor for her, until he too 'faded from life'.
Since this fading is here quite explicitly the mode in which 'that doom of
mortality that Mandos had spoken' came upon them (p. 240), it is very
notable that it is likened to, and even it seems identified with, the fading
of 'the Elves of later days throughout the world' -- as though in the
original idea Elvish fading was a form of mortality. This is in fact made
explicit in a later version.
The seven Sons of Feanor, their oath (sworn not in Valinor but after
the coming of the Noldoli to the Great Lands), and the maiming of
Maidros appear in the outlines for Gilfanon's Tale; and in the latest of
these outlines the Feanorians are placed in Dor Lomin (= Hisilome,
Hithlum), see I. 238, 240, 243. Here, in the Tale of the Nauglafring,
appear for the first time the names of the Sons of Feanor, five of them
(Maidros, Maglor, Celegorm, Cranthor, Curufin) in the forms, or almost
the forms, they were to retain, and Curufin already with his sobriquet

'the Crafty'. The names Amrod and Amras in The Silmarillion were a
late change; for long these two sons of Feanor were Damrod (as here)
and Diriel (here Dinithel or Durithel, see Changes made to Names,
p. 245)
Here also appear Dior the Fair, also called Ausir the Wealthy, and his
daughter Elwing; his son Auredhir early disappeared in the development
of the legends. But Dior ruled in 'the southern vales' (p. 241) of
Hisilome, not in Artanor, and there is no suggestion of any renewal of
Tinwelint's kingdom after his death, in contrast to what was told later
(The Silmarillion p. 236); moreover the Feanorians, as noted above,
dwelt also in Hisilome -- and how all this is to be related to what is said
elsewhere of the inhabitants of that region I am unable to say: cf. the Tale
of Tinuviel, p. 10: 'Hisilome where dwelt Men, and thrall-Noldoli
laboured, and few free-Eldar went.'
A very curious statement is made in this concluding part of the tale,
that 'those were days of happiness in the vales of Hithlum, for there was
peace with Melko and the Dwarves who had but one thought as they
plotted against Gondolin' (p. 241). Presumably 'peace with Melko'
means no more than that Melko had averted his attention from those
lands; but nowhere else is there any reference to the Dwarves' plotting
against Gondolin.
In the typescript version of the Tale of Tinuviel (p. 43) it is said that if
Turgon King of Gondolin was the most glorious of the kings of the Elves
who defied Melko, 'for a while the most mighty and the longest free
was Thingol of the Woods'. The most natural interpretation of this
expression is surely that Gondolin fell before Artanor; whereas in The
Silmarillion (p. 240) 'Tidings were brought by Thorondor Lord of
Eagles of the fall of Nargothrond, and after of the slaying of Thingol and
of Dior his heir, and of the ruin of Doriath; but Turgon shut his ear
to word of the woes without.' In the present tale we see the same
chronology, in that many of the Elves who followed Beren went after his
departure to Gondolin, 'the rumour of whose growing power and glory
ran in secret whispers among all the Elves' (p. 240), though here the
destruction of Gondolin is said to have taken place on the very day
that Dior was attacked by the Sons of Feanor (p. 242). To evade the
discrepancy therefore we must interpret the passage in the Tale of
Tinuviel to mean that Thingol remained free for a longer period of years
than did Turgon, irrespective of the dates of their downfalls.
Lastly, the statements that Cum an-Idrisaith, the Mound of Avarice,
'stands there still in Artanor' (p. 223), and that the waters of Aros still
flow above the drowned hoard (p. 238), are noteworthy as indications
that nothing analogous to the Drowning of Beleriand was present in the
original conception.
V.
THE TALE OF EARENDEL.
The 'true beginning' of the Tale of Earendel was to be the dwelling at
Sirion's mouth of the Lothlim (the point at which The Fall of Gondolin
ends: 'and fair among the Lothlim Earendel grows in the house of his
father', pp. 196 -- 7) and the coming there of Elwing (the point at which
the Tale of the Nauglafring ends: 'they departed for ever from the
glades of Hithlum and got them to the south towards Sirion's deep
waters, and the pleasant lands. And thus did all the fates of the fairies
weave then to one strand, and that strand is the great tale of Earendel;
and to that tale's true beginning are we now come', p. 242). The matter is
complicated, however, as will be seen in a moment, by my father's also
making the Nauglafring the first part of the Tale of Earendel.
But the great tale was never written; and for the story as he then
conceived it we are wholly dependent on highly condensed and often
contradictory outlines. There are also many isolated notes; and there are
the very early Earendel poems. While the poems can be precisely dated,
the notes and outlines can not; and it does not seem possible to arrange
them in order so as to provide a clear line of development.
One of the outlines for the Tale of Earendel is the earlier of the two
'schemes' for the Lost Tales which are the chief materials for Gilfanon's
Tale; and I will repeat here what I said of this in the first part (I. 233):
There is no doubt that [the earlier of the two schemes] was composed
when the last Tales had reached their furthest point of development,
as represented by the latest texts and arrangements given in this book.
Now when this outline comes to the matter of Gilfanon's Tale it
becomes at once very much fuller, but then contracts again to cursory
references for the tales of Tinuviel, Turin, Tuor; and the Necklace of
the Dwarves, and once more becomes fuller for the tale of Earendel.
This scheme B (as I will continue to call it) provides a coherent if very
rough narrative plan, and divides the story into seven parts, of which the
first (marked 'Told') is 'The Nauglafring down to the flight of Elwing'.
This sevenfold division is referred to by Littleheart at the beginning of
The Fall of Gondolin (p. 144):
It is a mighty tale, and seven times shall folk fare to the Tale-fire ere it
be rightly told; and so twined is it with those stories of the Nauglafring
and of the Elf-march that I would fain have aid in that telling...



If the six parts following the Tale of the Nauglafring were each to be of
 comparable length, the whole Tale of Earendel would have been some-
  where near half the length of all the tales that were in fact written; but my
  father never afterwards returned to it on any ample scale.
I give now the concluding part of Scheme B.
Tale of Earendel begins, with which is interwoven the Nauglafring
and the March of the Elves. For further details see Notebook C.*
First part. The tale of the Nauglafring down to the flight of Elwing.
Second part. The dwelling at Sirion. Coming thither of Elwing, and
the love of her and Earendel as girl and boy. Ageing of Tuor -- his
secret sailing after the conches of Ulmo in Swanwing.
Earendel sets sail to the North to find Tuor, and if needs be Mandos.
Sails in Earame. Wrecked. Ulmo appears. Saves him, bidding him sail
  to Kor -- 'for for this hast thou been brought out of the Wrack of
  Gondolin'.
Third part. Second attempt of Earendel to Mandos. Wreck of Falasquil
and rescue by the Oarni.~ He sights the Isle of Seabirds 'whither do all
the birds of all waters come at whiles'. Goes back by land to Sirion.
Idril has vanished (she set sail at night). The conches of Ulmo call
Earendel. Last farewell of Elwing. Building of Wingilot.
Fourth part. Earendel sails for Valinor. His many wanderings, occupy-
ing several years.
Fifth part. Coming of the birds of Gondolin to Kor with tidings.
Uproar of the Elves. Councils of the Gods. March of the Inwir (death
of Inwe), Teleri, and Solosimpi.
Raid upon Sirion and captivity of Elwing.
Sorrow and wrath of Gods, and a veil dropped between Valmar and
Kor, for the Gods will not destroy it but cannot bear to look upon it.
Coming of the Eldar. Binding of Melko. Faring to Lonely Isle.
Curse of the Nauglafring and death of Elwing.
Sixth part. Earendel reaches Kor and finds it empty. Fares home in
sorrow (and sights Tol Eressea and the fleet of the Elves, but a great
wind and darkness carries him away, and he misses his way and has a
voyage eastward).
Arriving at length at Sirion finds it empty. Goes to the ruins of
Gondolin. Hears of tidings. Sails to Tol Eressea. Sails to the Isle
of Seabirds.
Seventh part. His voyage to the firmament.
(* For 'Notebook C' see p. 254.)


Written at the end of the text is: 'Rem[ainder] of Scheme in Notebook
C'. These references in Scheme B to 'Notebook C' are to the little
pocket-book which goes back to 1916 -- 17 but was used for notes and
suggestions throughout the period of the Lost Tales (see I. 171). At the
beginning of it there is an outline (here called 'C') headed 'Earendel's
Tale, Tuor's son', which is in fair harmony with Scheme B:
Earendel dwells with Tuor and Irilde~ at Sirion's mouth by the sea (on
the Isles of Sirion). Elwing of the Gnomes of Artanor~ flees to them
with the Nauglafring. Earendel and Elwing love one another as boy
and girl.
Great love of Earendel and Tuor. Tuor ages, and Ulmo's conches
far out west over the sea call him louder and louder, till one evening he
sets sail in his twilit boat with purple sails, Swanwing, Alqarame.~
Idril sees him too late. Her song on the beach of Sirion.
When he does not return grief of Earendel and Idril. Earendel
(urged also by Idril who is immortal) desires to set sail and search even '
to Mandos. [Marginal addition:] Curse of Nauglafring rests on his
voyages. Osse his enemy.
Fiord of the Mermaid. Wreck. Ulmo appears at wreck and saves
them, telling them he must go to Kor and is saved for that.
Elwing's grief when she learns Ulmo's bidding. 'For no man may
tread the streets of Kor or look upon the places of the Gods and dwell
in the Outer Lands in peace again.'
Earendel departs all the same and is wrecked by the treachery of
Osse and saved only by the Oarni (who love him) with Voronwe and
dragged to Falasquil.
Earendel makes his way back by land with Voronwe. Finds that
Idril has vanished.' His grief; Prays to Ulmo and hears the conches.
Ulmo bids him build a new and wonderful ship of the wood of Tuor
from Falasquil. Building of Wingilot.
There are four items headed 'Additions' on this page of the notebook:
Building of Earame (Eaglepinion).
Noldoli add their pleading to Ulmo's bidding.
Earendel surveys the first dwelling of Tuor at Falasquil.
The voyage to Mandos and the Icy Seas.
The outline continues:
Voronwe and Earendel set sail in Wingilot. Driven south. Dark
regions. Fire mountains. Tree-men. Pygmies. Sarqindi or cannibal-
ogres.
Driven west. Ungweliante. Magic Isles. Twilit Isle [sic]. Little-
heart's gong awakes the Sleeper in the Tower of Pearl.~



Kor is found. Empty. Earendel reads tales and prophecies in the
waters. Desolation of Kor. Earendel's shoes and self powdered with
diamond dust so that they shine brightly.
Homeward adventures. Driven east -- the deserts and red palaces
where dwells the Sun.~
Arrives at Sirion, only to find it sacked and empty. Earendel dis-
traught wanders with Voronwe and comes to the ruins of Gondolin.
Men are encamped there miserably. Also Gnomes searching still for
lost gems (or some Gnomes gone back to Gondolin).
Of the binding of Melko.~ The wars with Men and the departure to
Tol Eressea (the Eldar unable to endure the strife of the world).
Earendel sails to Tol Eressea and learns of the sinking of Elwing and
the Nauglafring. Elwing became a seabird. His grief is very great. His
garments and body shine like diamonds and his face is in silver flame
for the grief and..........
He sets sail with Voronwe and dwells on the Isle of Seabirds in the
northern waters (not far from Falasquil) -- and there hopes that Elwing
will return among the seabirds, but she is seeking him wailing along all
the shores and especially among wreckage.
After three times seven years he sails again for halls of Mandos with
Voronwe -- he gets there because [?only] those who still..........
and had suffered may do so -- Tuor is gone to Valinor and nought is
known of Idril or of Elwing.
Reaches bar at margin of the world and sets sail on oceans of the
firmament in order to gaze over the Earth. The Moon mariner chases
him for his brightness and he dives through the Door of Night. How
he cannot now return to the world or he will die.
He will find Elwing at the Faring Forth.
Tuor and Idril some say sail now in Swanwing and may be seen
 going swift down the wind at dawn and dusk.
The Co-events to Earendel's Tale.
Raid upon Sirion by Melko's Orcs and the captivity of Elwing.
Birds tell Elves of the Fall of Gondolin and the horrors of the fate of
the Gnomes. Counsels of the Gods and uproar of the Elves. March
of the Inwir and Teleri. The Solosimpi go forth also but fare along
all the beaches of the world, for they are loth to fare far from the sound
of the sea -- and only consent to go with the Teleri under these
 conditions -- for the Noldoli slew some of their kin at Kopas.
This outline then goes on to the events after the coming of the Elves of
Valinor into the Great Lands, which will be considered in the next
chapter.
Though very much fuller, there seems to be little in C that is certainly
contradictory to what is said in B, and there are elements in the latter that



are absent from the former. In discussing these outlines I follow the
divisions of the tale made in B.
Second part. A little more is told in C of Tuor's departure from Sirion
(in B there is no mention of Idril); and there appears the motive of Osse's
hostility to Earendel and the curse of the Nauglafring as instrumental in
his shipwrecks. The place of the first wreck is called the Fiord of the
Mermaid. The word 'them' rather than 'him' in 'Ulmo saves them, telling
them he must go to Kor' is certain in the manuscript, which possibly
suggests that Idril or Elwing (or both) were with Earendel.
Third part. In B Earendel's second voyage, like the first, is explicitly
an attempt to reach Mandos (seeking his father), whereas in C it seems
that the second is undertaken rather in order to fulfil Ulmo's bidding that
he sail to Kor (to Elwing's grief). In C Voronwe is named as Earendel's
companion on the second voyage which ended at Falasquil; but the Isle
of Seabirds is not mentioned at this point. In C Wingilot is built 'of the
wood of Tuor from Falasquil', in?he Fall of Gondolin Tuor's wood was
hewed for him by the Noldoli in the forests of Dor Lomin and floated
down the hidden river (p. 152).
Fourth part. Whereas B merely refers to Earendel's 'many wander-
ings, occupying several years' in his quest for Valinor, C gives some
glimpses of what they were to be, as Wingilot was driven to the south and
then into the west. The encounter with Ungweliante on the western
voyage is curious; it is said in The Tale of the Sun and Noon that
'Melko held the North and Ungweliant the South' (see I. 182, 200).
In C we meet again the Sleeper in the Tower of Pearl (said to be Idril,
though this was struck out, note 6) awakened by Littleheart's gong; cf.
the account of Littleheart in The Cottage of Lost Play (I. 15):
He sailed in Wingilot with Earendel in that last voyage wherein they
sought for Kor. It was the ringing of this Gong on the Shadowy Seas
that awoke the Sleeper in the Tower of Pearl that stands far out to west
in the Twilit Isles.
In The Coming of the Valar it is said that the Twilit Isles 'float' on the
Shadowy Seas 'and the Tower of Pearl rises pale upon their most western
cape' (I. 68; cf. I. 125). But there is no other mention in C of Littleheart,
Voronwe's son, as a companion of Earendel, though he was named earlier
in the outline, in a rejected phrase, as present at the Mouths of Sirion (see
note 5), and in the Tale of the Nauglafring (p. 228) Ailios says that
none still living have seen the Nauglafring 'save only Littleheart son of
Bronweg' (where 'save only' is an emendation from 'not even').
Fifth and sixth parts. In C we meet the image of Earendel's shoes

shining from the dust of diamonds in Kor, an image that was to survive
(The Silmarillion p. 248):
He walked in the deserted ways of Tirion, and the dust upon his
raiment and his shoes was a dust of diamonds, and he shone and
glistened as he climbed the long white stairs.
But in The Silmarillion Tirion was deserted because it was 'a time of
festival, and wellnigh all the Elvenfolk were gone to Valimar, or were
gathered in the halls of Manwe upon Taniquetil'; here on the other hand
it seems at least strongly implied, in both B and C, that Kor was empty
because the Elves of Valinor had departed into the Great Lands, as a
result of the tidings brought by the birds of Gondolin. In these very early
narrative schemes there is no mention of Earendel's speaking to the
Valar, as the ambassador of Elves and Men (The Silmarillion p. 249),
and we can only conclude, extraordinary as the conclusion is, that
Earendel's great western voyage, though he attained his goal, was fruit-
less,that he was not the agent of the aid that did indeed come out of
Valinor to the Elves of the Great Lands, and (most curious of all) that
Ulmo's designs for Tuor had no issue. In fact, my father actually wrote in
the 1930 version of 'The Silmarillion':
Thus it was that the many emissaries of the Gnomes in after days came
 never back to Valinor -- save one: and he came too late.
e words 'and he came too late' were changed to 'the mightiest mariner
of song', and this is the phrase that is found in The Silmarillion, p. 102.I
t is unfortunately never made clear in the earliest writings what wasU
lmo's purpose in bidding Earendel sail to Kor, for which he had been
saved from the ruin of Gondolin. What would he have achieved, had he
come to Kor 'in time', more than in the event did take place after the
coming of tidings from Gondolin -- the March of the Elves into the Great
Lands? In a curious note in C, not associated with the present outline,
my father asked: 'How did King Turgon's messengers get to Valinor or
gain the Gods' consent?' and answered: 'His messengers never got there.
Ulmo [sic] but the birds brought tidings to the Elves of the fate of
Gondolin (the doves and pigeons of Turgon) and they [?arm and march
away].'
The coming of the message was followed by 'the councils (counsels C)
of the Gods and the uproar of the Elves', but in C nothing is said of 'the
sorrow and wrath of the Gods' or 'the veil dropped between Valmar and
Kor' referred to in B: where the meaning can surely only be that the
March of the Elves from Valinor was undertaken in direct opposition to
the will of the Valar, that the Valar were bitterly opposed to the interven-
tion of the Elves of Valinor in the affairs of the Great Lands. There may
well be a connection here with Vaire's words (I. 19g): 'When the fairies left

Kor that lane [i.e. Olore Malle that led past the Cottage of Lost Play]
was blocked for ever with great impassable rocks'. Elsewhere there
is only one other reference to the effect of the message from across the
sea, and that is in the words of Lindo to Eriol in The Cottage of Lost
Play (I.16):
Inwe, whom the Gnomes call Inwithiel..... was King of all the Eldar
when they dwelt in Kor. That was in the days before hearing the
lament of the world [i.e. the Great Lands] Inwe led them forth to the
lands of Men.
Later, Meril-i-Turinqi told Eriol (I. 129) that Inwe, her grandsire's sire,
'perished in that march into the world', but Ingil his son 'went long ago
back to Valinor and is with Manwe', and there is a reference to Inwe's
death in B.
In C the Solosimpi only agreed to accompany the expedition on
condition that they remain by the sea, and the reluctance of the Third
Kindred, on account of the Kinslaying at Swanhaven, survived (?he
Silmarillion p. 251). But there is no suggestion that the Elves of Valinor
were transported by ship, indeed the reverse, for the Solosimpi 'fare
along all the beaches of the world', and the expedition is a 'March';
though there is no indication of how they came to the Great Lands.
Both outlines refer to Earendel being driven eastwards on his home-
ward voyage from Kor, and to his finding the dwellings at Sirion's mouth
ravaged when he finally returned there; but B does not say who carried
out the sack and captured Elwing. In C it was a raid by Orcs of Melko; cf.
the entry in the Name-list to The Fall of Condolin (p. 215): 'Egalmoth
...got even out of the burning of Gondolin, and dwelt after at the mouth
of Sirion, but was slain in a dire battle there when Melko seized Elwing'.
Neither outline refers to Elwing's escape from captivity. Both mention
Earendel's going back to the ruins of Gondolin -- in C he returns there
with Voronwe and finds Men and Gnomes; another entry in the Name-
list to The Fall of Gondolin (p. 215) bears on this: 'Galdor... won out
of Gondolin and even the onslaught of Melko upon the dwellers at
Sirion's mouth and went back to the ruins with Earendel.'
Both outlines mention the departure of the Elves from the Great
Lands, after the binding of Melko, to Tol Eressea, C adding a reference
to 'wars with Men' and to the Eldar being 'unable to endure the strife
of the world', and both refer to Earendel's going there subsequently, but
the order of events seems to be different: in B Earendel on his way back
from Kor 'sights Tol Eressea and the fleet of the Elves' (presumably the
fleet returning from the Great Lands), whereas in C the departure of the
Elves is not mentioned until after Earendel's return to Sirion. But the
nature of these outlines is not conveyed in print: they were written at
great speed, catching fugitive thoughts, and cannot be pressed hard.
However, with the fate of Elwing B and C seem clearly to part company:
in B there is a simple reference to her death, apparently associated with
the curse of the Nauglafring, and from the order in which the events are
set down it may be surmised that her death took place on the journey to
Tol Eressea; C specifically refers to the 'sinking' of Elwing and the
Nauglafring -- but says that Elwing became a seabird, an idea that
sutvived (The Silmarillion p. 247). This perhaps gives more point to
Earendel's going to the Isle of Seabirds, mentioned in both B and C: in
the latter he 'hopes that Elwing will return among the seabirds'.
Seventh part. In B the concluding part of the tale is merely sum-
marised in the words 'His voyage to the firmament', with a reference to
the other outline C, and in the latter we get some glimpses of a narrative.
It seems to be suggested that the brightness of Earendel (quite uncon-
nected with the Silmaril) arose from the 'diamond dust' of Kor, but also
in some sense from the exaltation of his grief. An isolated jotting else-
where in C asks: 'What became of the Silmarils after the capture of
Melko?' My father at this time gave no answer to the question; but the
question is itself a testimony to the relatively minor importance of
the jewels of Feanor, if also, perhaps, a sign of his awareness that they
would not always remain so, that in them lay a central meaning of the
mythology, yet to be discovered.
It seems too that Earendel sailed into the sky in continuing search for
Elwing ('he sets sail on the oceans of the firmament in order to gaze over
the Earth'); and that his passing through the Door of Night (the entrance
made by the Gods in the Wall of Things in the West, see I. 215 -- 16) did
not come about through any devising, but because he was hunted by the
Moon. With this last idea, cf. I.193, where Ilinsor, steersman of
the Moon, is said to 'hunt the stars'.
The later of the two schemes for the Lost Tales, which gives a quite
substantial outline for Gilfanon's Tale, where I have called it 'D' (see
I. 234), here fails us, for the concluding passage is very condensed, in
   part erased, and ends abruptly early in the Tale of Earendel. I give it
, here, beginning at a slightly earlier point in the narrative:
Of the death of Tinwelint and the flight of Gwenethlin [see p. 51].
How Beren avenged Tinwelint and how the Necklace became his.
How it brought sickness to Tinuviel [see p. 246], and how Beren and
Tinuviel faded from the Earth. How their sons [sic] dwelt after them
and how the sons of Feanor came up against them with a host because
of the Silmaril. How all were slain but Elwing daughter of Daimord
[see p. 139] son of Beren fled with the Necklace.
Of Tuor's vessel with white sails.
How folk of the Lothlim dwelt at Sirion's Mouth. Earendel grew
fairest of all Men that were or are. How the mermaids (Oarni) loved



him. How Elwing came to the Lothlim and of the love of Elwing and
Earendel. How Tuor fell into age, and how Ulmo beckoned to him at
eve, and he set forth on the waters and was lost. How Idril swam after
him.
(In the following passage my father seems at first to have written:
'Earendel........ Oarni builded Wingilot and set forth in search of
.... leaving Voronwe with Elwing', where the first lacuna perhaps
said 'with the aid of', though nothing is now visible; but then he wrote
'Earendel built Swanwing', and then partly erased the passage: it is
impossible to see now what his intention was.)
Elwing's lament. How Ulmo forbade his quest but Earendel would
yet sail to find a passage to Mandos. How Wingilot was wrecked at
Falasquil and how Earendel found the carven house of Tuor there.
Here Scheme D ends. There is also a reference at an earlier point in it to
'the messengers sent from Gondolin. The doves of Gondolin fly to
Valinor at the fall of that town.'
This outline seems to show a move to reduce the complexity of the
narrative, with Wingilot being the ship in which Earendel attempted to sail
to Mandos and in which he was wrecked at Falasquil; but the outline is
too brief and stops too soon to allow any certain conclusions to be drawn.
A fourth outline, which I will call 'E', is found on a detached sheet; in
this Tuor is called Tur (see p. 148).
j
Fall of Gondolin. The feast of Glorfindel. The dwelling by the
waters of Sirion's mouth. The mermaids come to Earendel.
Tur groweth sea-hungry -- his song to Earendel. One evening he
calls Earendel and they go to the shore. There is a skiff. Tur bids
into the West. Earendel hears a great song swelling from the sea as
Tur's skiff dips over the world's rim. His passion of tears upon the
shore. The lament of Idril.
The building of Earum.~ The coming of Elwing. Earendel's reluc-
tance. The whetting of Idril. The voyage and foundering of Earum in
the North, and the vanishing of Idril. How the seamaids rescued
Earendel, and brought him to Tur's bay. His coastwise journey.
The rape o( Elwing. Earendel discovers the ravaging of Sirion's
mouth.
The building of Wingelot. He searches for Elwing and is blown far
to the South. Wirilome. He escapes eastward. He goes back westward;
he descries the Bay of Faery. The Tower of Pearl, the magic isles, the
great shadows. He finds Kor empty; he sails back, crusted with dust
and his face afire. He learns of Elwing's foundering. He sitteth on the
Isle of Seabirds. Elwing as a seamew comes to him. He sets sail over
the margent of the world.

Apart from the fuller account of Tuor's departure from the mouths of
Sirion, not much can be learned from this- it is too condensed. But even
allowing for speed and compression, there seem to be essential differences
from B and C. Thus in this outline (E) Elwing, as it appears, comes to
Sirion at a later point in the story, after the departure of Tuor; but the
raid and capture of Elwing seems to take place at an earlier point, while
Earendel is on his way back to Sirion from his shipwreck in the North
(not, as in B and C, while he is on the great voyage in Wingilot that took
him to Kor). Here, it seems, there was to be only one northward journey,
ending in the shipwreck of Earame/Earum near Falasquil. Though it
cannot be demonstrated, I incline to think that E was subsequent to B
and C: partly because the reduction of two northward voyages ending in
shipwreck to one seems more likely than the other way about, and partly
because of the form Tur, which, though it did not survive, replaced Tuor
for a time (p.148).
One or two other points may be noticed in this outline. The great
spider, called Ungweliante' in C but here Wirilome ('Gloomweaver',
seeI. 152), is here encountered by Earendel in the far South, not as in C
on his westward voyage: see p. 256. Elwing in this version comes to
Earendel as a seabird (as she does in The Silmarillion, p. 247), which is
not said in C and even seems to be denied.
Another isolated page (associated with the poem 'The Bidding of the
 Minstrel', see pp. 269-- 70 below) gives a very curious account of
Earendel's great voyage:
Earendel's boat goes through North. Iceland. [Added in margin:
back of North Wind.] Greenland, and the wild islands: a mighty wind
and crest of great wave carry him to hotter climes, to back of West
Wind. Land of strange men, land of magic. The home of Night. The
Spider. He escapes from the meshes of Night with a few comrades,
sees a great mountain island and a golden city [added in margin:
Kor] -- wind blows him southward. Tree-men, Sun-dwellers, spices,
fire-mountains, red sea: Mediterranean (loses his boat (travels afoot
through wilds of Europe?)) or Atlantic.* Home. Waxes aged. Has a
new boat builded. Bids adieu to his north land. Sails west again to the
lip of the world, just as the Sun is diving into the sea. He sets sail upon
the sky and returns no more to earth.
The golden city was Kor and he had caught the music of the
Solosimpe, and returns to find it, only to find that the fairies have
departed from Eldamar. See little book. Dusted with diamond dust
climbing the deserted streets of Kor.
(* The words in this passage ('Tree-men, Sun-dwellers...') are clear but the
punctuation
is not, and the arrangement here may not be that intended.)

One would certainly suppose this account to be earlier than anything
so far considered (both from the fact that Earendel's history after his
return from the great voyage seems to bear no relation to that in B and C,
and from his voyage being set in the lands and oceans of the known
world), were it not for the reference to the 'little book', which must mean
'Notebook C', from which the outline C above is taken (see p. 254). But I
think it very probable (and the appearance of the MS rather supports
this) that the last paragraph ('The golden city was Kor...') was added
later, and that the rest of the outline belongs with the earliest writing of
the poem, in the winter of 1914.
It is notable that only here in the earliest writings is it made clear that
the 'diamond dust' that coated Earendel came from the streets of Kor
(cf. the passage from The Silmarillion cited on p. 257).
Another of the early Earendel poems, 'The Shores of Faery', has a
short prose preface, which if not as old as the first composition of the
poem itself (July 19I5, see p. 271) is certainly not much later:
Earendel the Wanderer who beat about the Oceans of the World in his
white ship Wingelot sat long while in his old age upon the Isle of
Seabirds in the Northern Waters ere he set forth upon a last voyage.
He passed Taniquetil and even Valinor, and drew his bark over the
bar at the margin of the world, and launched it on the Oceans of the
Firmament. Of his ventures there no man has told, save that hunted by
the orbed Moon he fled back to Valinor, and mounting the towers of
Kor upon the rocks of Eglamar he gazed back upon the Oceans of the
World. To Eglamar he comes ever at plenilune when the Moon sails
a-harrying beyond Taniquetil and Valinor.*
Both here and in the outline associated with 'The Bidding of the Minstrel'
Earendel was conceived to be an old man when he journeyed into the
firmament.
No other 'connected' account of the Tale of Earendel exists from the
earliest period. There are however a number of separate notes, mostly in
the form of single sentences, some found in the little notebook C, others
jotted down on slips. I collect these references here more or less in the
sequence of the tale.
(i) 'Dwelling in the Isle of Sirion in a house of snow-white stone.'- In
C (p. 254) it is said that Earendel dwelt with Tuor and Idril at Sirion's
mouth by the sea 'on the Isles of Sirion'.
(* This preface is found in all the texts of the poem save the carlicst, and the
versions of it
differ only in name-forms: Wingelot/Vingelot and Eglamarl/EIdamar (varying in
the
same ways as in the accompanying versions of the poem, see textual notes p.
272), and Kor
> Tun in the third text, Tun in the fourth. For Egla = Elda see I. 251 and II.
338, and for
Tun see p. 292.)

(ii) 'The Oarni give to Earendel a wonderful shining silver coat that
wets not. They love Earendel, in Osse's despite, and teach him the lore of
boat-building and of swimming, as he plays with them about the shores
of Sirion.' -- In the outlines are found references to the love of the Oarni
for Earendel (D, p. 259), the coming of the mermaids to him (E, p. 260),
and toOsse's enmity (C,p.254).
(iii) Earendel was smaller than most men but nimble-footed and a
swift swimmer (but Voronwe could not swim).
(iv) 'Idril and Earendel see Tuor's boat dropping into the twilight and a
sound of song.' -- In B Tuor's sailing is'secret' (p. 253), in C 'Idril sees him
too late' (p. 254), and in E Earendel is present at Tuor's departure and
thrusts the boat out: 'he hears a great song swelling from the sea' (p. 260).
(v) 'Death of Idril? -- follows secretly after Tuor.' -- That Idril died is
denied in C: 'Tuor and Idril some say sail now in Swanwing...'
(p. 255); in D Idril swam after him (p. 260).
(vi) 'Tuor has sailed back to Falasquil and so back up Ilbranteloth to
Asgon where he sits playing on his lonely harp on the islanded rock.' --
This is marked with a query and an 'X' implying rejection of the idea.
There are curious references to the 'islanded rock' in Asgon in the
outlines for Gilfanon's Tale (see I. 238).
(vii) 'The fiord of the Mermaid: enchantment of his sailors. Mermaids
are not Oarni (but are earthlings, or fays? -- or both).' -- In D (p. 259)
Mermaids andOarni are equated.
(viii) The ship Wingilot was built of wood from Falasquil with 'aid of
the Oarni'. -- This was probably said also in D: see p. 26o.
(ix) Wingilot was 'shaped as a swan of pearls'.
(x) 'The doves and pigeons of Turgon's courtyard bring message to
Valinor -- only to Elves.' -- Other references to the birds that flew from
Gondolin also say that they came to the Elves, or to Kor (pp. 253, 255,
257).
(xi) 'During his voyages Earendel sights the white walls of Kor gleam-
ing afar off, but is carried away by Osse's adverse winds and waves.' --
The same is said in B (p. 253) of Earendel's sighting of Tol Eressea on his
homeward voyage from Kor.
(xii) 'The Sleeper in the Tower of Pearl awakened by Littleheart's
gong: a messenger that was despatched years ago by Turgon and
enmeshed in magics. Even now he cannot leave the Tower and warns
 them of the magic.' -- In C there is a statement, rejected, that the Sleeper
 in the Tower of Pearl was Idril herself (see note 6).
(xiii) 'Ulmo's protection removed from Sirion in wrath at Earendel's
 second attempt to Mandos, and hence Melko overwhelmed it.' -- This
 note is struck through, with an 'X' written against it; but in D (p. 260) it
is said that 'Ulmo forbade his quest but Earendel would yet sail to find a
 passage to Mandos'. The meaning of this must be that it was contrary to
 Ulmo's purpose that Earendel should seek to Mandos for his father, but
 must rather attempt to reach Kor.

(xiv) 'Earendel weds Elwing before he sets sail. When he hears of her
loss he says that his children shall be "all such men hereafter as dare the
great seas in ships>. -- With this cf. ?he Cottage of Lost Play (I. 13):
'even such a son of Earendel as was this wayfarer', and (I. 18): 'a man of
great and excellent travel, a son meseems of Earendel'. In an outline of
Eriol's life (I. 24) it is said that he was a son of Earendel, born under his
beam, and that if a beam from Earendel fall on a child newborn he
becomes 'a child of Earendel' and a wanderer. In the early dictionary of
Qenya there is an entry: Earendilyon 'son of Earendel (used of any
mariner)' (I. 251).
(xv) 'Earendel goes even to the empty Halls of Iron seeking Elwing.'-
Earendel must have gone to Angamandi (empty after the defeat of
Melko) at the same time as he went to the ruins of Gondolin (pp. 253,
255).
(xvi) The loss of the ship carrying Elwing and the Nauglafring took
place on the voyage to Tol Eressea with the exodus of the Elves from the
Great Lands. -- See my remarks, pp. 258 -- 9. For the 'appeasing'of Mim's
curse by the drowning of the Nauglafring see the Appendix on Names,
entry Nauglafring. The departure of the Elves to Tol Eressea is dis-
cussed in the next chapter (p. 280).
(xvii) 'Earendel and the northern tower on the Isle of Seabirds.'- In C
(p. 255) Earendel 'sets sail with Voronwe and dwells on the Isle of
Seabirds in the northern waters (not far from Falasquil) -- and there
hopes that Elwing will return among the seabirds'; in B (p. 253) 'he
sights the Isle of Seabirds "whither do all the birds of all waters come at
whiles".' There is a memory of this in The Silmarillion, p. 250: 'There-
fore there was built for [Elwing] a white tower northward upon the
borders of the Sundering Seas; and thither at times all the seabirds of
the earth repaired.'
(xviii) When Earendel comes to Mandos he finds that Tuor is 'not in
Valinor, nor Erumani, and neither Elves nor Ainu know where he is. (He
is with Ulmo.)' -- In C (p. 255) Earendel, reaching the Halls of Mandos,
learns that Tuor 'is gone to Valinor'. For the possibility that Tuor might
be in Erumani or Valinor see I. 91 ff.
(xix) Earendel 'returns from the firmament ever and anon with
Voronwe to Kor to see if the Magic Sun,has been lit and the fairies have
come back -- but the Moon drives him back'. -- On Earendel's return from
the firmament see (xxi) below; on the Rekindling of the Magic Sun see
p. 286.
Two statements about Earendel cited previously may be added here:
(xx) In the tale of The Theft of Melko (I. 141) it is said that 'on the
walls of Kor were many dark tales written in pictured symbols, and runes
of great beauty were drawn there too or carved upon stones, and Earendel
read many a wondrous tale there long ago'.
(xxi) The Name-list to The Fall of Gondolin has the following entry
(cited on p. 215): 'Earendel was the son of Tuor and Idril and 'tis said

the only being that is half of the kindred of the Eldalie and half of Men.
He was the greatest and first of all mariners among Men, and saw regions
that Men have not yet found nor gazed upon for all the multitude of their
boats. He rideth now with Voronwe upon the winds of the firmament nor
comes ever further back than Kor, else would he die like other Men, so
much of the mortal is in him.' -- In the outline associated with the poem
'The Bidding of the Minstrel' Earendel 'sets sail upon the sky and returns
no more to earth' (p. 261); in the prose preface to 'The Shores of Faery'
'to Eglamar he comes ever at plenilune when the Moon sails a-harrying
beyond Taniquetil and Valinor' (p. 262); in outline C 'he cannot now
return to the world or he will die' (p. 255); and in citation (xix) above he
'returns from the firmament ever and anon with Voronwe to Kor'.
In The Silmarillion (p. 249) Manwe's judgement was that Earendel
and Elwing 'shall not walk ever again among Elves or Men in the Outer
Lands', but it is also said that Earendel returned to Valinor from his
'voyages beyond the confines of the world' (ibid. p. 250), just as it is said
in the Name-list to The Fall of Gondolin that he does not come ever
 further back than Kor. The further statement in the Name-list, that if he
 did he would die like other Men, 'so much of the mortal is in him', was in
some sense echoed long after in a letter of my father's written in 1967:
'Earendil, being in part descended from Men, was not allowed to set foot
on Earth again, and became a star shining with the light of the Silmaril'
(The Letters of J. R. R. Tolkien no. 297).
This brings to an end all the 'prose' materials that bear on the earliest
 form of the Tale of Earendel (apart from a few other references to him
that appear in the next chapter). With these outlines and notes we are at a
very early stage of composition, when the conceptions were fluid and had
not been given even preliminary narrative form: the myth was present in
certain images that were to endure, but these images had not been
 articulated.
I have already noticed (p. 257) the remarkable fact that there is no hint
of the idea that it was Earendel who by his intercession brought aid out of
 the West; equally there is no suggestion that the Valar hallowed his ship
and set him in the sky, nor that his light was that of the Silmaril.
Nonetheless there were already present the coming of Eirendel to Kor
(Tirion) and finding it deserted, the dust of diamonds on his shoes, the
changing of Elwing into a seabird, the passing of his ship through
the Door of Night, and the sanction against his return to the lands
east of the Sea. The raid on the Havens of Sirion appears in the early
outlines, though that was an act of Melko's, not of the Feanorians; and
Tuor's departure also, but without Idril, whom he left behind. His ship
was Alqarame, Swanwing: afterwards it bore the name Earrame, with
the meaning 'Sea-wing' (TheSilmarillion p. 245), which retained, in
form but not in meaning, the name of Earendel's first ship Earame
'Eaglepinion' (pp. 253 -- 4, and see note g).

It is interesting to read my father's statement, made some half-century
later (in the letter of 1967 referred to above), concerning the origins of
Earendil:
This name is' in fact (as is obvious) derived from Anglo-Saxon
earendel. When first studying Anglo-Saxon professionally (1913- )
-- I had done so as a boyish hobby when supposed to be learning Greek
and Latin -- I was struck by the great beauty of this word (or name),
entirely coherent with the normal style of Anglo-Saxon, but euphonic
to a peculiar degree in that pleasing but not 'delectable' language. Also
its form strongly suggests that it is in origin a proper name and not a
common noun. This is borne out by the obviously related forms in
other Germanic languages; from which amid the confusions and
debasements of late traditions it at least seems certain that it belonged
to astronomical-myth, and was the name of a star or star-group. To my
mind the Anglo-Saxon uses seem plainly to indicate that it was a star
presaging the dawn (at any rate in English tradition): that is what we
now call Venus: the morning star as it may be seen shining brilliantly
in the dawn, before the actual rising of the Sun. That is at any rate how
I toot it. Before 1914 I wrote a 'poem' upon Earendel who launched his
ship like a bright spark from the havens of the Sun. I adopted him into
my mythology -- in which he became a prime figure as a mariner, and
eventually as a herald star, and a sign of hope to men. Aiya Earendil
Elenion Ancalima ([The Lord of the Rings] II.329) 'hail Earendil
brightest of Stars' is derived at long remove from Eala Earendel
engla beorhtast.* But the name could not be adopted just like that: it
had to be accommodated to the Elvish linguistic situation, at the same
time as a place for this person was made in legend. From this, far back
in the history of 'Elvish', which was beginning, after many tentative
starts in boyhood, to take definite shape at the time of the name's
adoption, arose eventually (a) the C[ommon]E[lvish] stem (*) AYAR'sea',
primarily applied to the Great Sea of the West, lying between Middle-
earth and Aman the Blessed Realm of the Valar; and (b) the element,
or verbal base (N)DIL, 'to love, be devoted to'- describing the attitude
of one to a person, thing, cause, or occupation to which one is devoted
for its own sake. Earendil became a character in the earliest written
(1916-17) of the major legends: The Fall of Condolin, the greatest of
the Pereldar 'Half-elven', son of Tuor of the most renowned House of
the Edain, and Idril daughter of the King of Gondolin.
My father did not indeed here say that his Earendel contained from the
beginning elements that in combination give a meaning like 'Sea-lover',
but it is in any case clear that at the time of the earliest extant writings on
(* From the Old English poem Crist: eala! earendel engla beorhtast ofer mid-
dongeard monnum sended.)

the subject the name was associated with an Elvish word ea 'eagle' -- see
p. 256 on the name of Earendel's first ship Earame 'Eaglepinion'. In the
Name-list to The Fall of Condolin this is made explicit: 'Earendl [sic]
 though belike it hath some kinship to the Elfin ea and earen "eagle" and
"eyrie" (wherefore cometh to mind the passage of Cristhorn and the use
of the sign of the Eagle by Idril [see p. 193]) is thought to be woven of
that secret tongue of the Gondothlim [see p. 165].'
I give lastly four early poems of my father's in which Earendel
appears.
Eala Earendel Engla Beorhtast.
There can be little doubt that, as Humphrey Carpenter supposes (Bio-
 graphy p. 71), this was the first poem on the subject of Earendel that my
 father composed, and that it was written at Phoenix Farm, Gedling,
Nottinghamshire, in September 1914.~ It was to this poem that he was
 referring in the letter of 1967 just cited -- 'I wrote a "poem" upon
Earendel who launched his ship like a bright spark: cf. line 5 He
launched his bark like a silver spark...'
There are some five different versions, each one incorporating
emendations made in the predecessor, though only the first verse was
substantially rewritten. The title was originally 'The Voyage of Earendel
 the Evening Star', together with (as customarily) an Old English version
of this: Scipfaereld Earendeles AEfensteorran; this was changed in a
later copy to Eala Earendel Engla Beorhtast 'The Last Voyage
of Earendel', and in still later copies the modern English name was
 removed. I give it here in the last version, the date of which cannot be
 determined, though the handwriting shows it to be substantially later
than the original composition; together with all the divergent readings of
the earliest extant version in footnotes.
Earendel arose where the shadow flows
At Ocean's silent brim;
Through the mouth of night as a ray of light
Where the shores are sheer and dim
He launched his bark like a silver spark
From the last and lonely sand;
Then on sunlit breath of day's fiery death
He sailed from Westerland.
4
8

He threaded his path o'er the aftermath
Of the splendour of the Sun,
And wandered far past many a star
In his gleaming galleon.12
On the gathering tide of darkness ride
The argosies of the sky,
And spangle the night with their sails of light
As the streaming star goes by.16
Unheeding he dips past these twinkling ships,
By his wayward spirit whirled
On an endless quest through the darkling West
O'er the margin of the world;20
And he fares in haste o'er the jewelled waste
And the dusk from whence he came
With his heart afire with bright desire
And his face in silver flame.24
The Ship of the Moon from the East comes soon
From the Haven of the Sun,
Whose white gates gleam in the coming beam
Of the mighty silver one.28
Lo! with bellying clouds as his vessel's shrouds
He weighs anchor down the dark,
And on shimmering oars leaves the blazing shores
In his argent-timbered bark.
32
Readings of the earliest version:
1-8 Earendel sprang up from the Ocean's cup
In the gloom of the mid-world's rim;
From the door of Night as a ray of light
Leapt over the twilight brim,
And launching his bark like a silver spark
From the golden-fading sand
Down the sunlit breath of Day's fiery Death
He sped from Westerland.
10 splendour] glory.
11 wandered] went wandering.
16 streaming] Evening.
17 Unheeding] But unheeding.
18 wayward] wandering.
19 endless] magic darkling] darkening.
20 O'er the margin] Toward the margent.
22 And the dust] To the dust.
25 The Ship] For the Ship.
31 blazing] skiey.
32 timbered] orbed.
Then Earendel fled from that Shipman dread
Beyond the dark earth's pale,
Back under the rim of the Ocean dim,
And behind the world set sail;
And he heard the mirth of the folk of earth
And the falling of their tears,
As the world dropped back in a cloudy wrack
On its journey down the years.
 36
40
Then he glimmering passed to the starless vast
As an isled lamp at sea,
And beyond the ken of mortal men
Set his lonely errantry,
Tracking the Sun in his galleon
Through the pathless firmament,
Till his light grew old in abysses cold
And his eager flame was spent.
44
48
There seems every reason to think that this poem preceded all the
outlines and notes given in this chapter, and that verbal similarities to
the poem found in these are echoes (e.g. 'his face is in silver flame',
outline C, p. 255; 'the margent of the world', outline E, p. 260).
In the fourth verse of the poem the Ship of the Moon comes forth from
the Haven of the Sun; in the tale of The Hiding of Valinor (I. 215) Aule
and Ulmo built two havens in the east, that of the Sun (which was 'wide
and golden') and that of the Moon (which was 'white, having gates of
silver and of pearl') -- but they were both 'within the same harbourage'.
As in the poem, in the Tale of the Sun and Moon the Moon is urged on
by 'shimmering oars' (I. 195).
II.
The Bidding of the Minstrel.
This poem, according to a note that my father scribbled on one of the
copies, was written at St. John's Street, Oxford (see I. 27) in the winter
of 1914; there is no other evidence for its date. In this case the earliest
workings are extant, and on the back of one of the sheets is the outline
33. Then] And.
38. And the falling of] And hearkened to.
46-8. And voyaging the skies
Till his splendour was shorn by the birth of Morn
And he died with the Dawn in his eyes.

account of Earendel's great voyage given on p. 261. The poem was then
much longer than it became, but the workings are exceedingly rough;
they have no title. To the earliest finished text a title was added hastily
later: this apparently reads 'The Minstrel renounces the song'. The title
then became 'The Lay of Earendel', changed in the latest text to 'The
Bidding of the Minstrel, from the Lay of Earendel'.
There are four versions following the original rough draft, but the
changes made in them were slight, and I give the poem here in the latest
form, noting only that originally the minstrel seems to have responded to
the 'bidding' much earlier -- at line 5, which read 'Then harken -- a tale of
immortal sea-yearning -,andthat Eldar in line 6 and Elven in line 23 are
emendations, made on the latest text, of 'fairies', 'fairy'.
'Sing us yet more of Earendel the wandering,
Chant us a lay of his white-oared ship,
More marvellous-cunning than mortal man's pondering,
Foamily musical out on the deep.
Sing us a tale of immortal sea-yearning
The Eldar once made ere the change of the light,
Weaving a winelike spell, and a burning
Wonder of spray and the odours of night;
Of murmurous gloamings out on far oceans;
Of his tossing at anchor off islets forlorn
To the unsleeping waves' never-ending sea-motions;
Of bellying sails when a wind was born,
And the gurgling bubble of tropical water
Tinkled from under the ringed stem,
5
1O
And thousands of miles was his ship from those wrought her 15
A petrel, a sea-bird, a white-winged gem,
Gallantly bent on measureless faring
Ere she came homing in sea-laden flight,
Circuitous, lingering, restlessly daring,
Coming to haven unlooked for, at night.'
20
'But the music is broken, the words half-forgotten,
The sunlight has faded, the moon is grown old,
The Elven ships foundered or weed-swathed and rotten,
The fire and the wonder of hearts is acold.
Who now can tell, and what harp can accompany
With melodies strange enough, rich enough tunes,
Pale with the magic of cavernous harmony,
Loud with shore-music of beaches and dunes,
How slender his boat; of what glimmering timber;
How her sails were all silvern and taper her mast,
And silver her throat with foam and her limber
Flanks as she swanlike floated past!
25
30

The song I can sing is but shreds one remembers
Of golden imaginings fashioned in sleep,
A whispered tale told by the withering embers
Of old things far off that but few hearts keep.'
35
III.
The Shores of Faery.
This poem is given in its earliest form by Humphrey Carpenter, Bio-
graphy, pp.76--76.~ It exists in four versions each as usual incorporating
slight changes; my father wrote the date of its composition on three of the
copies, viz. 'July 8 -- g, 1915; 'Moseley and Edgbaston, Birmingham July
1915 (walking and on bus). Retouched often since-esp. 1924'; and 'First
poem of my mythology, Valinor.......... 1910'. This last cannot have
been intended for the date of composition, and the illegible words
preceding it may possibly be read as 'thought of about'. But it does not in
any case appear to have been 'the first poem of the mythology'. that, I
believe, was Eala Earendel Engla Beorhtast -- and my father's mention
of this poem in his letter of 1967 (see p. 266) seems to suggest this also.
The Old English title was lelfalandes Strand (The Shores of
Elfland). It is preceded by a short prose preface which has been given
above, p. 262. I give it here in the latest version (undateable), with all
readings from the earliest in footnotes.
East of the Moon, west of the Sun
There stands a lonely hill;
Its feet are in the pale green sea,
Its towers are white and still,
Beyond Taniquetil
In Valinor.
Comes never there but one lone star
That fled before the moon;
And there the Two Trees naked are
That bore Night's silver bloom,
That bore the globed fruit of Noon
In Valinor.
There are the shores of Faery
Reaadings of the earliest version:
7
8
10
East..... west] West..... East.
No stars come there but one alone.
fled before] hunted with
For there the Two Trees naked grow
bore] bear. 11 bore] bear.
5
1O

With their moonlit pebbled strand
Whose foam is silver music
On the opalescent floor
Beyond the great sea-shadows
On the marches of the sand
That stretches on for ever
To the dragonheaded door,
The gateway of the Moon,
Beyond Taniquetil
In Valinor.
West of the Sun, east of the Moon
Lies the haven of the star,
The white town of the Wanderer
And the rocks of Eglamar.
There Wingelot is harboured,
While Earendel looks afar
O'er the darkness of the waters
Between here and Eglamar --
Out, out, beyond Taniquetil
In Valinor afar.
IS
20
25
30
There are some interesting connections between this poem and the tale
of The Coming of the Elves and the Making of Kor. The 'lonely hill'
of line 2 is the hill of Kor (cf. the tale, I. r 122: 'at the head of this long creek
there stands a lonely hill which gazes at the loftier mountains'), while 'the
golden feet of Kor' (a line replaced in the later versions of the poem) and
very probably 'the sand That stretches on for ever' are explained by the
passage that follows in the tale:
Thither [i.e. to Kor] did Aule bring all the dust of magic metals that
his great works had made and gathered, and he piled it about the foot
of that hill, and most of this dust was of gold, and a sand of gold
stretched away from the feet of Kor out into the distance where the
Two Trees blossomed.
18 marches] margent.
20 -- 21 To the dragonheaded door, The gateway of the Moon] From the
golden feet of Kor.
24 West of the Sun, east of the Moon] O! West o( the Moon, East of the Sun.
27 rocks] rock.
28 Wingelot] Earliest text Wingelot > Vingelot; second text Vingelot; third text
Vingelot > Wingelot; last text Wingelot.
30 O'er the darkness of the waters] On the magic and the wonder.
31 Between] 'Tween.
In the latest text Elvenland is lightly written over Faery in line 13, and EIdamar
against
Eglamar in line 27 (only); Eglamar > Eldamar in the second text.

With the 'dragonheaded door' (line 20) cf. the description of the Door of
Night in?he Hiding of Valinor (I. 215 -- 16):
Its pillars are of the mightiest basalt and its lintel likewise, but great
dragons of black stone are carved thereon, and shadowy smoke pours
slowly from their jaws.
In that description the Door of Night is not however 'the gateway of the
Moon', for it is the Sun that passes through it into the outer dark,
whereas 'the Moon dares not the utter loneliness of the outer dark by
reason of his lesser light and majesty, and he journeys still beneath the
world [i.e. through the waters of Vai]'.
IV.
The Happy Mariners.
I give lastly this poem whose subject is the Tower of Pearl in the Twilit
Isles. It was written in July 1915,~ and there are six texts preceding the
version which was published (together with 'Why the Man in the Moon
came down too soon') at Leeds in 1923* and which is the first of the two
given here.
(I)
I know a window in a western tower
That opens on celestial seas,
And wind that has been blowing round the stars
Comes to nestle in its tossing draperies.
It is a white tower builded in the Twilight Isles,
Where Evening sits for ever in the shade;
It glimmers like a spike of lonely pearl
That mirrors beams forlorn and lights that fade;
And sea goes washing round the dark rock where it stands,
And fairy boats go by to gloaming lands
All piled and twinkling in the gloom
With hoarded sparks of orient fire
5
1O
(*A Northern Venture: see i.204, footnote. Mr Douglas A. Anderson has kindly
supplied me with s copy of the poem in this version, which had been very
slightly altered
from that published in The Stapeldon Magazine (Exeter College, Oxford),
June 1920
(Carpenter, p. 268). -- Tailight in line 5 of the Leeds version is almost certainly
an error,
for Twilit, the reading of all the original texts.)



That divers won in waters of the unknown Sun --
And, maybe, 'tis a throbbing silver lyre,
Or voices of grey sailors echo up
Afloat among the shadows of the world
In oarless shallop and with canvas furled;
For often seems there ring of feet and song
Or twilit twinkle of a trembling gong.
15
0! happy mariners upon a journey long
To those great portals on the Western shores
Where far away constellate fountains leap,
And dashed against Night's dragon-headed doors,
In foam of stars fall sparkling in the deep.
While I alone look out behind the Moon
From in my white and windy tower,
Ye bide no moment and await no hour,
But chanting snatches of a mystic tune
Go through the shadows and the dangerous seas
Past sunless lands to fairy leas
Where stars upon the jacinth wall of space
Do tangle burst and interlace.
Ye follow Earendel through the West,
The shining mariner, to Islands blest;
While only from beyond that sombre rim
A wind returns to stir these crystal panes
And murmur magically of golden rains
That fall for ever in those spaces dim.
20
25
30
35
In The Hiding of Valinor (I. 215) it is told that when the Sun was first
made the Valar purposed to draw it beneath the Earth, but that
it was too frail and lissom; and much precious radiance was spilled in
their attempts about the deepest waters, and escaped to linger as secret
sparks in many an unknown ocean cavern. These have many elfin
divers, and divers of the fays, long time sought beyond the outmost
East, even as is sung in the song of the Sleeper in the Tower of Pearl.
That 'The Happy Mariners' was in fact 'the song of the Sleeper in the
Tower of Pearl' seems assured by lines 10 -- 13 of the poem.
For 'Night's dragon-headed doors' see p. 273. The meaning of jacinth
in the jacinth wall of space (line 31) is 'blue'; cf. the deep-blue walls in
The Hiding of Valinor (I. 215).

Many years later my father rewrote the poem, and I give this version
here. Still later he turned to it again and made a few further alterations
(here recorded in footnotes); at this time he noted that the revised
version dated from '1940?'.

(2).
I know a window in a Western tower
that opens on celestial seas,
and there from wells of dark behind the stars
blows ever cold a keen unearthly breeze.
It is a white tower builded on the Twilit Isles,
and springing from their everlasting shade
it glimmers like a house of lonely pearl,
where lights forlorn take harbour ere they fade.
5
Its feet are washed by waves that never rest.
There silent boats go by into the West
all piled.and twinkling in the dark
with orient fire in many a hoarded spark
that divers won
in waters of the rumoured Sun.
There sometimes throbs below a silver harp,
touching the heart with sudden music sharp;
or far beneath the mountains high and sheer
the voices of grey sailors echo clear,
afloat among the shadows of the world
in oarless ships and with their canvas furled,
chanting a farewell and a solemn song:
for wide the sea is, and the journey long.
1O
15
20
0 happy mariners upon a journey far,
beyond the grey islands and past Gondobar,
to those great portals on the final shores
where far away constellate fountains leap,
and dashed against Night's dragon-headed doors
in foam of stars fall sparkling in the deep!
While I, alone, look out behind the moon
from in my white and windy tower,
ye bide no moment and await no hour,
but go with solemn song and harpers' tune
through the dark shadows and the shadowy seas
to the last land of the Two Trees,
whose fruit and flower are moon and sun,
where light of earth is ended and begun.
25
30
35
Last revisions:
3 and there omitted.
4 blows ever cold] there ever blows.
17 tp mountains] mountain.
22 the journey] their journey.
29 While I look out alone. 30 imprisoned in the white and windy tower.
31 ye] you. 33-6 struck through.

Ye follow Earendel without rest,
the shining mariner, beyond the West,
who passed the mouth of night and launched his bark
upon the outer seas of everlasting dark.
Here only comes at whiles a wind to blow
returning darkly down the way ye go,
with perfume laden of unearthly trees.
Here only long afar through window-pane
I glimpse the flicker of the golden rain
that falls for ever on the outer seas.
40
45
I cannot explain the reference (in the revised version only, line 24) to
the journey of the mariners 'beyond the grey islands and past Gondobar'.
Condobar ('City of Stone') was one of the seven names of Gondolin
(P 158).
NOTES.
3.
4.
Falasquil was the name of Tuor's dwelling on the coast (p. 152); the
Oarni, with the Falmarini and the Wingildi, are called 'the spirits of
the foam and the surf of ocean' (I. 66).2.
Irilde: the 'Elvish' name corresponding to Gnomish Idril. See the
Appendix on Names, entry Idril.
'Elwing of the Gnomes of Artanor' is perhaps a mere slip.
For the Swan-wing as the emblem of Tuor see pp. 152, 164, 172,
5.
6.
7.
8.
9.
193.
The words 'Idril has vanished' replace an earlier reading: 'Sirion has
been sacked and only Littleheart (Ilfrith) remained who tells the
tale.' Ilfrith is yet another version of Littleheart's Elvish name (see
pp. 201 -- 2).
Struck out here: 'The Sleeper is Idril but he does not know.'
Cf. Kortirion among the Trees (I. 36, lines 129 -- 30): 'I need not
know the desert or red palaces Where dwells the sun', lines retained
slightly changed in the second (I937) version (I. 39).
This passage, from 'Earendel distraught...', replaced the following:
'[illegible name, possibly Orlon] is [?biding] there and tells him of
the sack of Sirion and the captivity of Elwing. The faring of the
Koreldar and the binding of Melko.' Perhaps the words 'The faring
of the Koreldar' were struck out by mistake (cf. Outline B).
Earum is emended (at the first occurrence only) from Earam; and
following it stood the name Earnhama, but this was struck out.
Earnhama is Old English, 'Eagle-coat', 'Eagle-dress'.
37 Ye] You. 40 outer omitted.
41 -- 3 struck through. 46 the] those
line added at end: beyond the country of the shining Trees.

10. The two earliest extant texts date it thus, one of them with the
addition 'Ex[eter] Coll[ege] Essay Club Dec. 1914', and on a third is
written 'Gedling, Notts., Sept. 1913 [error for 1914] and later'. My
father referred to having read 'Earendel' to the Essay Club in a letter
to my mother of 27 November 1914.11.
But rocks in line 27 (26) should read rock.
12. According to one note it was written at 'Barnt Green [see Biography
p. 36] July 1915 and Bedford and later', and another note dates it
'July 24 [1915], rewritten Sept. g'. The original workings are on the
back of an unsent letter dated from Moseley (Birmingham) July x i,
1915; my father began military training at Bedford on July 19.
VI.
THE HISTORY OF ERIOL OR
AEFWINE AND THE END OF THE
TALES.
In this final chapter we come to the most difficult (though not, as I hope
to show, altogether insoluble) part of the earliest form of the mythology:
its end, with which is intertwined the story of Eriol/AElfwine -- and with
that, the history and original significance of Tol Eressea. For its eluci-
dation we have some short pieces of connected narrative, but are largely
dependent on the same materials as those that constitute Cilfanon's Tale
and the story of Earendel: scribbled plot-outlines, endlessly varying,
written on separate slips of paper or in the pages of the little notebook 'C'
(see p. 254). In this chapter there is much material to consider, and
for convenience of reference within the chapter I number the various
citations consecutively. But it must be said that no device of presentation
can much diminish the inherent complexity and obscurity of the matter.
The fullest account (bald as it is) of the March of the Elves of Kor and
the events that followed is contained in notebook C, continuing on from -
the point where I left that outline on p. 255, after the coming of the birds
from Gondolin, the 'counsels of the Gods and uproar of the Elves', and
the 'March of the Inwir and Teleri', with the Solosimpi only agreeing to
accompany the expedition on condition that they remain by the sea. The
outline continues:
(1) Coming of the Eldar. Encampment in the Land of Willows of
first host. Overwhelming of Noldorin and Valwe. Wanderings
of Noldorin with his harp.
Tulkas overthrows Melko in the battle of the Silent Pools. Bound
in Lumbi and guarded by Gorgumoth the hound of Mandos.
Release of the Noldoli. War with Men as soon as Tulkas and:
Noldorin have fared back to Valinor.
Noldoli led to Valinor by Egalmoth and Galdor.
There have been previous references in the Lost Tales to a battle in
Tasarinan, the Land of Willows: in the Tale of Turambar (pp. 70, 140),
and, most notably, in The Fall of Condolin (p. 154), where when
Tuor's sojourn in that land is described there is mention of events that
would take place there in the future:



Did not even after the days of Tuor Noldorin and his Eldar come there
seeking for Dor Lomin and the hidden river and the caverns of the
Gnomes' imprisonment; yet thus nigh to their quest's end were like to
abandon it? Indeed sleeping and dancing here... they were whelmed
by the goblins sped by Melko from the Hills of Iron and Noldorin
made bare escape thence.
Valwe has been mentioned once before, by Lindo, on Eriol's first
evening in Mar Vanwa Tyalieva (I. 16): 'My father Valwe who went with
Noldorin to find the Gnomes.' Of Noldorin we know also that he was
the Vala Salmar, the twin-brother of Omar-Amillo; that he entered the
world with Ulmo, and that in Valinor he played the harp and lyre and
loved the Noldoli (1.66, 75, 93, 126).
An isolated note states:
{2) Noldorin escapes from the defeat of the Land of Willows and takes
his harp and goes seeking in the Iron Mountains for Valwe and the
Gnomes until he finds their place of imprisonment. Tulkas follows.
Melko comes to meet him.
The only one of the great Valar who is mentioned in these notes as
taking part in the expedition to the Great Lands is Tulkas; but whatever
story underlay his presence, despite the anger and sorrow of the. Valar at
the March of the Elves (see p. 257), is quite irrecoverable. (A very faint
hint concerning it is found in two isolated notes: 'Tulkas gives -- or the
Elves take limpe with them', and 'Limpe' given by the Gods (Orome?
Tulkas?) when Elves left Valinor', cf. The Flight of the Noldoli (I. 166):
'no limpe had they [the Noldoli] as yet to bring away, for that was not
given to the fairies until long after, when the March of Liberation was
undertaken'.) According to (1) above Tulkas fought with and overthrew
Melko 'in the battle of the Silent Pools', and the Silent Pools are the Pools
of Twilight, 'where Tulkas after fought with Melko's self' {The Fall of
Condolin, p. 195; the original reading here was 'Noldorin and Tulkas').
The name Lumbi is found elsewhere (in a list of names associated with
the tale of The Coming of the Valar, I. 93), where it is said to be Melko's
third dwelling; and a jotting in notebook C, sufficiently mysterious,
reads: 'Lumfad. Melko's dwelling after release. Castle of Lumbi.' But
this story also is lost.
That the Noldoli were led back to Valinor by Egalmoth and Galdor, as
stated in (1), is notable. This is contradicted in detail by a statement
in the Name-list to The Fall of Condolin, which says (p. 215) that
Egalmoth was slain in the raid on the dwelling at the mouth of Sirion
when Elwing was taken; and contradicted in general by the next citation
to be given, which denies that the Elves were permitted to dwell in
Valinor.
The only other statement concerning these events is found in the first

of the four outlines that constitute Gilfanon's Tale, which I there called
'A' (I. 234). This reads:
(3) March of the Elves out into the world.
The capture of Noldorin.
The camp in the Land of Willows.
Army of Tulkas at the Pools of Twilight......
.. and [?many]
Gnomes, but Men fall on them out of Hisilome.
Defeat of Melko.
Breaking of Angamandi and release of captives.
Hostility of Men. The Gnomes collect some of the jewels.
Elwing and most of the Elves go back to dwell in Tol Eressea. The
Gods will not let them dwell in Valinor.
This seems to differ from (1) in the capture of Noldorin and in the attack
of Men from Hisilome before the defeat of Melko; but the most notable
statement is that concerning the refusal of the Gods to allow the Elves to
dwell in Valinor. There is no reason to think that this ban rested only, or
chiefly, on the Noldoli. The text, (3), does not refer specifically to the
Gnomes in this connection; and the ban is surely to be related to 'the
sorrow and wrath of the Gods' at the time of the March of the Elves
(p. 253). Further, it is said in The Cottage of Lost Play (I. 16) that Ingil
son of Inwe returned to Tol Eressea with 'most of the fairest and the
wisest, most of the merriest and the kindest, of all the Eldar', and that
the town that he built there was named 'Koromas or "the Resting of the
Exiles of Kor".' This is quite clearly to be connected with the statement
in (3) that 'Most of the Elves go back to dwell in Tol Eressea', and
with that given on p. 255: The wars with Men and the departure to
Tol Eressea (the Eldar unable to endure the strife of the world)'.
These indications taken together leave no doubt, I think, that my
father's original conception was of the Eldar of Valinor undertaking the
expedition into the Great Lands against the will of the Valar; together
with the rescued Noldoli they returned over the Ocean, but being
refused re-entry into Valinor they settled in Tol Eressea, as 'the Exiles of
Kor'. That some did return in the end to Valinor may be concluded from
the words of Meril-i-Turinqi (I. xag) that Ingil, who built Kortirion,
'went long ago back to Valinor and is with Manwe'. But Tol Eressea
remained the land of the fairies in the early conception, the Exiles of Kor,
Eldar and Gnomes, speaking both Eldarissa and Noldorissa.
It seems that there is nothing else to be found or said concerning the
original story of the coming of aid out of the West and the renewed assault
on Melko.
*
The conclusion of the whole story as originally envisaged was to be

rejected in its entirety. For it we are very largely dependent on the outline
in notebook C, continuing on from citation (1) above; this is extremely
 rough and disjointed, and is given here in a very slightly edited form.
(4) After the departure of Earendel and the coming of the Elves to Tol
Eressea (and most of this belongs to the history of Men) great ages
elapse; Men spread and thrive, and the Elves of the Great Lands
fade. As Men's stature grows theirs diminishes. Men and Elves
were formerly of a size, though Men always larger.'
Melko again breaks away, by the aid of Tevildo (who in long ages
gnaws his bonds); the Gods are in dissension about Men and Elves,
some favouring the one and some the other. Melko goes to Tol
Eressea and tries to stir up dissension among the Elves (between
Gnomes and Solosimpi), who are in consternation and send to
Valinor. No help comes, but Tulkas sends privily Telimektar
(Taimonto) his son.~
Telimektar of the silver sword and Ingil surprise Melko and
wound him, and he flees and climbs up the great Pine of Tavrobel.
Before the Inwir left Valinor Belaurin (Palurien)~ gave them a seed,
and said that it must be guarded, for great tidings would one day
come of its growth. But it was forgotten, and cast in the garden of
Gilfanon, and a mighty pine arose that reached to Ilwe and the
stars.'
Telimektar and Ingil pursue him, and they remain now in the sky
to ward it, and Melko stalks high above the air seeking ever to do a
hurt to the Sun and Moon and stars (eclipses, meteors). He is
continually frustrated, but on his first attempt -- saying that the
Gods stole his fire for its making -- he upset the Sun, so that
Urwendi fell into the Sea, and the Ship fell near the ground,
scorching regions of the Earth. The clarity of the Sun's radiance has
not been so great since, and something of magic has gone from it.
Hence it is, and long has been, that the fairies dance and sing more
sweetly and can the better be seen by the light of the Moon --
because of the death of Urwendi.
The 'Rekindling of the Magic Sun' refers in part to the Trees and
in part to Urwendi.
Fionwe's rage and grief. In the end he will slay Melko.
'Orion' is only the image of Telimektar in the sky? [sic] Varda
gave him stars, and he bears them aloft that the Gods may know he
watches; he has diamonds on his sword-sheath, and this will go red
when he draws his sword at the Great End.
But now Telimektar, and Gil~ who follows him like a Blue Bee,
ward off evil, and Varda immediately replaces any stars that Melko
loosens and casts down.
Although grieved at the Gods' behest, the Pine is cut down; and


Melko is thus now out of the world -- but one day he will find a way
back, and the last great uproars will begin before the Great End.
The evils that still happen come about in this wise. The Gods can
cause things to enter the hearts of Men, but not of Elves (hence
their difficult dealings in the old days of the Exile of the Gnomes)
and though Melko sits without, gnawing his fingers and gazing in
anger on the world, he can suggest evil to Men so inclined -- but the
lies he planted of old still grow and spread.
Hence Melko can now work hurt and damage and evil in the
world only through Men, and he has more power and subtlety with
Men than Manwe or any of the Gods, because of his long sojourn in
the world and among Men.
In these early chartings we are in a primitive mythology, with Melko
reduced to a grotesque figure chased up a great pine-tree, which is
thereupon cut down to keep him out of the world, where he 'stalks high
above the air' or 'sits without, gnawing his fingers', and upsets the
Sun-ship so that Urwendi falls into the Sea -- and, most strangely, meets
her death.
That Ingil (Gil) who with Telimektar pursues Melko is to be identified
with Ingil son of Inwe who built Kortirion is certain and appears from
several notes; see the Appendix on Names to Vol. I, entries Ingil,
Telimektar. This is the fullest statement of the Orion-myth, which is
referred to in the Tale of the Sun and Moon (see I. 182, 200):
of Nielluin [Sirius] too, who is the Bee of Azure, Nielluin whom
still may all men see in autumn or winter burning nigh the foot of
Telimektar son of Tulkas whose tale is yet to tell.
In the Gnomish dictionary it is said (I. 256) that Gil rose into the heavens
and 'in the likeness of a great bee bearing honey of flame' followed
Telimektar. This presumably represents a distinct conception from that
referred to above, where Ingil 'went long ago back to Valinor and is with
Manwe' (I. 129).
With the reference to Fionwe's slaying of Melko 'in the end' cf. the end
of The Hiding of Valinor (I. 219):
Fionwe Urion, son of Manwe, of love for Urwendi shall in the end be,
Melko's bane, and shall destroy the world to destroy his foe, and so
shall all things then be rolled away.
Cf. also the Tale of Turambar, p. 116, where it is said that Turambar
'shall stand beside Fionwe in the Great Wrack'.
For the prophecies and hopes of the Elves concerning the Rekindling
of the Magic Sun see pp.285 -- 6.

The outline in C continues and concludes thus (again with some very
  slight and insignificant editing):
   (5)
Longer ages elapse. Gilfanon is now the oldest and wisest Elf in Tol
Eressea, but is not of the Inwir -- hence Meril-i-Turinqi is Lady of
the Isle.
Eriol comes to Tol Eressea. Sojourns at Kortirion. Goes to
Tavrobel to see Gilfanon, and sojourns in the house of a hundred
chimneys -- for this is the last condition of his drinking limpe.
Gilfanon bids him write down all he has heard before he drinks.
Eriol drinks limpe. Gilfanon tells him of things to be; that in his
mind (although the fairies hope not) he believes that Tol Eressea
will become a dwelling of Men. Gilfanon also prophesies concern-
ing the Great End, and of the Wrack of Things, and of Fionwe,
Tulkas, and Melko and the last fight on the Plains of Valinor.
Eriol ends his life at Tavrobel but in his last days is consumed
with longing for the black cliffs of his shores, even as Meril said.
The book lay untouched in the house of Gilfanon during many
ages of Men.
The compiler of the Golden Book takes up the Tale: one of the
children of the fathers of the fathers of Men. [Against this is
written:] It may perhaps be much better to let Eriol himself see
the last things and finish the book.
Rising of the Lost Elves against the Orcs and Nautar.' The time
is not ready for the Faring Forth, but the fairies judge it to be
necessary. They obtain through Ulmo the help of Uin,~ and Tol
Eressea is uprooted and dragged near to the Great Lands, nigh to
the promontory of Ros. A magic bridge is cast across the interven-
ing sound. Osse is wroth at the breaking of the roots of the isle he set
so long ago -- and many of his rare sea-treasures grow about it -- that
he tries to wrench it back; and the western half breaks off, and is
now the Isle of Iverin.
The Battle of Ros: the Island-elves and the Lost Elves against
Nautar, Gongs,~ Orcs, and a few evil Men. Defeat of the Elves. The
fading Elves retire to Tol Eressea and hide in the woods.
Men come to Tol Eressea and also Orcs, Dwarves, Gongs,
Trolls, etc. After the Battle of Ros the Elves faded with sorrow.
They cannot live in air breathed by a number of Men equal to their
own or greater; and ever as Men wax more powerful and numerous
so the fairies fade and grow small and tenuous, filmy and trans-
parent, but Men larger and more dense and gross. At last Men, or
almost all, can no longer see the fairies.
The Gods now dwell in Valinor, and come scarcely ever to the
world, being content with the restraining of the elements from
utterly destroying Men. They grieve much at what they see; but -
Iluvatar is over all.

On the page opposite the passage about the Battle of Ros is written:
A great battle between Men at the Heath of the Sky-roof (now the
Withered Heath), about a league from Tavrobel. The Elves and the
Children flee over the Gruir and the Afros.
'Even now do they approach and our great tale comes to its ending.'
The book found in the ruins of the house of a hundred chimneys.
That Gilfanon was the oldest of the Elves of Tol Eressea, though Meril
held the title of Lady of the Isle, is said also in the Tale of the Sun and
Moon (I. 175): but what is most notable is that Gilfanon (not Ailios,
teller of the Tale of the Nauglafring, whom Gilfanon replaced, see
I. 197 note 19 and 229ff.) appears in this outline, which must therefore
be late in the period of the composition of the Lost Tales.
Also noteworthy are the references to Eriol's drinking limpe at
Gilfanon's 'house of a hundred chimneys'. In The Cottage of Lost Play
(I. 17) Lindo told Eriol that he could not give him limpe to drink:
Turinqi only may give it to those not of the Eldar race, and those that
drink must dwell always with the Eldar of the Island until such time as
they fare forth to find the lost families of the kindred.
Meril-i-Turinqi herself, when Eriol besought her for a drink of limpe,
was severe (I. 98):
If you drink this drink... even at the Faring Forth, should Eldar and
Men fall into war at the last, still must you stand by us against the
children of your kith and kin, but until then never may you fare away
home though longings gnaw you...
In the text described in I. 229 ff. Eriol bemoans to Lindo the refusal to
grant him his desire, and Lindo, while warning him against 'thinking to
overpass the bounds that Iluvatar hath set', tells him that Meril has not
irrevocably refused him. In a note to this text my.father wrote: '... Eriol
fares to Tavrobel -- after Tavrobel he drinks of limpe.'
The statement in this passage of outline C that Eriol 'in his last days is
consumed with longing for the black cliffs of his shores, even as Meril
said' clearly refers to the passage in The Chaining of Melko from which
I have cited above:
On a day of autumn will come the winds and a driven gull, maybe, will
wail overhead, and lo! you will be filled with desire, remembering the
black coasts of your home. (I. 96).
Lindo's reference, in the passage from The Cottage of Lost Play cited

above, to the faring forth of the Eldar of Tol Eressea 'to find the lost
families of the kindred' must likewise relate to the mentions in (5) of
the Faring Forth (though the time was not ripe), of the 'rising of the
Lost Elves against the Orcs and Nautar', and of 'the Island-elves and
the Lost Elves' at the Battle of Ros. Precisely who are to be understood
by the 'Lost Elves' is not clear; but in Gilfanon's Tale (I. 231) all Elves
of the Great Lands 'that never saw the light at Kor' (Ilkorins), whether
or not they left the Waters of Awakening, are called 'the lost fairies
of the world', and this seems likely to be the meaning here. It must
then be supposed that there dwelt on Tol Eressea only the Eldar of
Kor (the 'Exiles') and the Noldoli released from thraldom under Melko;
the Faring Forth was to be the great expedition from Tol Eressea for the
rescue of those who had never departed from the Great Lands.
In (5) we meet the conception of the dragging of Tol Eressea back
eastwards across the Ocean to the geographical position of England -- it
becomes England (see I. 26); that the part which was torn off by Osse,
the Isle of Iverin, is Ireland is explicitly stated in the Qenya dictionary.
The promontory of Ros is perhaps Brittany.
Here also there is a clear definition of the 'fading' of the Elves, their
physical diminution and increasing tenuity and transparency, so that
they become invisible (and finally incredible) to gross Mankind. This is a
central concept of the early mythology: the 'fairies', as now conceived by
Men (in so far as they are rightly conceived), have become so. They
were not always so. And perhaps most remarkable in this remarkable
passage, there is the final and virtually complete withdrawal of the Gods
(to whom the Eldar are 'most like in nature', I. 57) from the concerns of
'the world', the Great Lands across the Sea. They watch, it seems, since
they grieve, and are therefore not wholly indifferent to what passes in the
 lands of Men; but they are henceforward utterly remote, hidden in the
West.
Other features of (5), the Golden Book of Tavrobel, and the Battle of
the Heath of the Sky-roof, will be explained shortly. I give next a
separate passage found in the notebook C under the heading 'Rekindling
of the Magic Sun. Faring Forth.'
(6) The Elves' prophecy is that one day they will fare forth from Tol
Eressea and on arriving in the world will gather all their fading
kindred who still live in the world and march towards Valinor --
through the southern lands. This they will only do with the help of
Men. If Men aid them, the fairies will take Men to Valinor -- those
that wish to go -- fight a great battle with Melko in Erumani and
open Valinor.~ Laurelin and Silpion will be rekindled, and the
mountain wall being destroyed then soft radiance will spread over
all the world, and the Sun and Moon will be recalled. If Men oppose
them and aid Melko the Wrack of the Gods and the ending of the
fairies will result -- and maybe the Great End.

On the opposite page is written:
Were the Trees relit all the paths to Valinor would become clear to
follow -- and the Shadowy Seas open clear and free -- Men as well as
Elves would taste the blessedness of the Gods, and Mandos be emptied.
This prophecy is clearly behind Vaire's words to Eriol (I. 19 -- 20): '...
the Faring Forth, when if all goes well the roads through Arvalin to
Valinor shall be thronged with the sons and daughters of Men.'
Since 'the Sun and Moon will be recalled' when the Two Trees give
light again, it seems that here 'the Rekindling of the Magic Sun' (to which
the toast was drunk in Mar Vanwa Tyalieva, I. 17, 65) refers to the
relighting of the Trees. But in citation (4) above it is said that 'the
"Rekindling of the Magic Sun" refers in part to the Trees and in part to
Urwendi', while in the Tale of the Sun and Moon (I. 179) Yavanna
seems to distinguish the two ideas:
'Many things shall be done and come to pass, and the Gods grow old,
and the Elves come nigh to fading, ere ye shall see the rekindling of
these trees or the Magic Sun relit', and the Gods knew not what she
meant, speaking of the Magic Sun, nor did for a long while after.
Citation (xix) on p. 264 does not make the reference clear: Earendel
'returns from the firmament ever and anon with Voronwe to Kor to see if
the Magic Sun has been lit and the fairies have come back'; but in the
following isolated note the Rekindling of the Magic Sun explicitly means
the re-arising of Urwendi:
(7) Urwendi imprisoned by Moru (upset out of the boat by Melko and
only the Moon has been magic since). The Faring Forth and the
Battle of Erumani would release her and rekindle the Magic Sun.
This 'upsetting' of the Sun-ship by Melko and the loss of the Sun's
'magic' is referred to also in (4), where it is added that Urwendi fell into
the sea and met her 'death'. In the tale of The Theft of Melko it is said
(I. 151) that the cavern in which Melko met Ungweliant was the place
where the Sun and Moon were imprisoned afterwards, for 'the primeval
spirit Moru' was indeed Ungweliant (see I. 261). The Battle of Erumani
is referred to also in (6), and is possibly to be identified with 'the last fight
on the plains of Valinor' prophesied by Gilfanon in (5). But the last part
of (5) shows that the Faring Forth came to nothing, and the prophecies
were not fulfilled.
There are no other references to the dragging of Tol Eressea across the
Ocean by Uin the great whale, to the Isle of Iverin, or to the Battle
of Ros; but a remarkable writing survives concerning the aftermath of

the 'great battle between Men at the Heath of the Sky-roof (now the
Withered Heath), about a league from Tavrobel' (end of citation (5)).
This is a very hastily pencilled and exceedingly difficult text titled
Epilogue. It begins with a short prefatory note:
(8) Eriol flees with the fading Elves from the Battle of the High Heath
(Ladwen-na-Dhaideloth) and crosses the Gruir and the Afros.
The last words of the book of Tales. Written by Eriol at Tavrobel
before he sealed the book.
This represents the development mentioned as desirable in (5), that
Eriol should 'himself see the last things and finish the book', but an
isolated note in C shows my father still uncertain about this even after the
Epilogue was in being: 'Prologue by the writer of Tavrobel [i.e., such a
Prologue is needed] telling how he found Eriol's writings and put them
together. His epilogue after the battle of Ladwen Daideloth is written.'
The rivers Gruir and Afros appear also in the passage about the battle
at the end of (g). Since it is said there that the Heath was about a league
from Tavrobel, the two rivers are clearly those referred to in the Tale of
the Sun and Moon: 'the Tower of Tavrobel beside the rivers' (I. 174,
and see I.196 note 2). In scattered notes the battle is also called 'the
Battle of the Heaven Roof' and 'the Battle of Dor-na-Dhaideloth'.~
I give now the text of the Epilogue:
And now is the end of the fair times come very nigh, and behold, all
the beauty that yet was on earth -- fragments of the unimagined
loveliness of Valinor whence came the folk of the Elves long long ago --
now goeth it all up in smoke. Here be a few tales, memories ill-told, of
all that magic and that wonder twixt here and Eldamar of which I have
become acquaint more than any mortal man since first my wandering
footsteps came to this sad isle.
Of that last battle of the upland heath whose roof is the wide sky --
nor was there any other place beneath the blue folds of Manwe's robe
so nigh the heavens or so broadly and so well encanopied -- what
grievous things I saw I have told.
Already fade the Elves in sorrow and the Faring Forth has come to
ruin, and Iluvatar knoweth alone if ever now the Trees shall be relit
while the world may last. Behold, I stole by evening from the ruined
heath, and my way fled winding down the valley of the Brook of Glass,
but the setting of the Sun was blackened with the reek of fires, and the
waters of the stream were fouled with the war of men and grime of
strife. Then was my heart bitter to see the bones of the good earth laid
bare with winds where the destroying hands of men had tornthe
heather and the fern and burnt them to make sacrifice to Melko and to
lust of ruin; and the thronging places of the bees that all day hummed
among the whins and whortlebushes long ago bearing rich honey down

to Tavrobel -- these were now become fosses and [?mounds] of stark
red earth, and nought sang there nor danced but unwholesome airs
and flies of pestilence.
Now the Sun died and behold, I came to that most magic wood
where once the ageless oaks stood firm amid the later growths of beech
and slender trees of birch, but all were fallen beneath the ruthless axes
of unthinking men. Ah me, here was the path beaten with spells,
trodden with musics and enchantment that wound therethrough, and
this way were the Elves wont to ride a-hunting. Many a time there have
I seen them and Gilfanon has been there, and they rode like kings unto
the chase, and the beauty of their faces in the sun was as the new
morning, and the wind in their golden hair like to the glory of bright
flowers shaken at dawn, and the strong music of their voices like the sea
and like trumpets and like the noise of very many viols and of golden
harps unnumbered. And yet again have I seen the people of Tavrobel
beneath the Moon, and they would ride or dance across the valley of
the two rivers where the grey bridge leaps the joining waters; and they
would fare swiftly as clad in dreams, spangled with gems like to the
grey dews amid the grass, and their white robes caught the long
radiance of the Moon.............. and their spears shivered with
silver flames.
And now sorrow and..... has come upon the Elves, empty is
Tavrobel and all are fled, [?fearing] the enemy that sitteth on
the ruined heath, who is not a league away; whose hands are red with
the blood of Elves and stained with the lives of his own kin, who has
made himself an ally to Melko and the Lord of Hate, who has fought
for the Orcs and Gongs and the unwholesome monsters of the world --
blind, and a fool, and destruction alone is his knowledge. The paths of
the fairies he has made to dusty roads where thirst [?lags wearily] and
no man greeteth another in the way, but passes by in sullenness.
So fade the Elves and it shall come to be that because of the
encompassing waters of this isle and yet more because of their
unquenchable love for it that few shall flee, but as men wax there and
grow fat and yet more blind ever shall they fade more and grow less
and those of the after days shall scoff, saying Who are the fairies -- lies
told to the children by women or foolish men -- who are these fairies?
And some few shall answer: Memories faded dim, a wraith of vanishing
loveliness in the trees, a rustle of the grass, a glint of dew, some subtle
intonation of the wind; and others yet fewer shall say..... 'Very small
and delicate are the fairies now, yet we have eyes to see and ears to
hear, and Tavrobel and Kortirion are filled yet with [? this] sweet folk
Spring knows them and Summer too and in Winter still are they
among us, but in Autumn most of all do they come out, for Autumn is:
their season, fallen as they are upon the Autumn of their days. What
shall the dreamers of the earth be like when their winter come.
Hark 0 my brothers, they shall say, the little trumpets blow; wc,

hear a sound of instruments unimagined small. Like strands of wind,
like mystic half-transparencies, Gilfanon Lord of Tavrobel rides out
tonight amid his folk, and hunts the elfin deer beneath the paling sky.
A music of forgotten feet, a gleam of leaves, a sudden bending of the
grass," and wistful voices murmuring on the bridge, and they are
gone.
But behold, Tavrobel shall not know its name, and all the land be
changed, and even these written words of mine belike will all be lost;
and so I lay down the pen, and so of the fairies cease to tell.
Another text that bears on these matters is the prose preface to
 Kortirion among the Trees (1915), which has been given in Part I
25 -- 6, but which I repeat here:
(9) Now on a time the fairies dwelt in the Lonely Isle after the great
wars with Melko and the ruin of Gondolin; and they builded a fair
city amidmost of that island, and it was girt with trees. Now this city
they called Kortirion, both in memory of their ancient dwelling of
Kor in Valinor, and because this city stood also upon a hill and had
a great tower tall and grey that Ingil son of Inwe their lord let raise.
Very beautiful was Kortirion and the fairies loved it, and it
became rich in song and poesy and the light of laughter; but on a
time the great Faring Forth was made, and the fairies had rekindled
once more the Magic Sun of Valinor but for the treason and faint
hearts of Men. But so it is that the Magic Sun is dead and the
Lonely Isle drawn back unto the confines of the Great Lands,
and the fairies are scattered through all the wide unfriendly path-
ways of the world; and now Men dwell even on this faded isle, and
care nought or know nought of its ancient days. Yet still there be
some of the Eldar and the Noldoli of old who linger in the island,
and their songs are heard about the shores of the land that once was
the fairest dwelling of the immortal folk.
And it seems to the fairies and it seems to me who know that town
and have often trodden its disfigured ways that autumn and the
falling of the leaf is the season of the year when maybe here or there
a heart among Men may be open, and an eye perceive how is the
world's estate fallen from the laughter and the loveliness of old.
Think on Kortirion and be sad -- yet is there not hope?
*
At this point we may turn to the history of Eriol himself. My father's
early conceptions of the mariner who came to Tol Eressea are here again
no more than allusive outlines in the pages of the little notebook C, and
some of this material cannot be usefully reproduced. Perhaps the earliest
  is collection of notes headed 'Story of Eriol's Life', which I gave in Vol.

I. 23 -- 4 but with the omission of some features that were not there
relevant. I repeat it here, with the addition of the statements previously
omitted.
(10) Eriol's original name was Ottor, but he called himself Waefre (Old
English: 'restless, wandering') and lived a life on the waters. His father
was named Eoh (Old English: 'horse'); and Eoh was slain by his brother
Beorn, either 'in the siege' or 'in a great battle'. Ottor Waefre settled on
the island of Heligoland in the North Sea, and wedded a woman named
Cwen; they had two sons named Hengest and Horsa 'to avenge Eoh'.
Then sea-longing gripped Ottor Waefre (he was 'a son of Earendel',
born under his beam), and after the death of Cwen he left his young
children. Hengest and Horsa avenged Eoh and became great chieftains;
but Ottor Waefre set out to seek, and find, Tol Eressea (se uncupa holm,
'the unknown island').
In Tol Eressea he wedded, being made young by limpe (here also
called by the Old English word lip), Naimi (Eadgifu), niece of Vaire,
and they had a son named Heorrenda. -
It is then said, somewhat inconsequentially (though the matter is
in itself of much interest, and recurs nowhere else), that Eriol told
the fairies of Woden, punor, Tiw, etc. (these being the Old English
names of the Germanic gods who in Old Scandinavian form are Odinn,
Porr, Tyr), and they identified them with Manweg, Tulkas, and a third
whose name is illegible but is not like that of any of the great Valar.
Eriol adopted the name of Angol.
Thus it is that through Eriol and his sons the Engle (i.e. the English)
have the true tradition of the fairies, of whom the Iras and the Wealas
(the Irish and Welsh) tell garbled things.
Thus a specifically English fairy-lore is born, and one more true than
anything to be found in Celtic lands.
The wedding of Eriol in Tol Eressea is never referred to elsewhere;
but his son Heorrenda is mentioned (though not called Eriol's son) in the
initial link to The Fall of Gondolin (p. 145) as one who afterwards
turned a song of Meril's maidens into the language of his people. A little
more light will be shed on Heorrenda in the course of this chapter.
Associated with these notes is a title-page and a prologue that breaks
off after a few lines:
(11)
The Golden Book of Heorrenda
being the book of the
Tales of Tavrobel.
Heorrenda of Haegwudu.



This book have I written using those writings that my father
Waefre (whom the Gnomes named after the regions of his home
Angol) did make in his sojourn in the holy isle in the days of the
Elves; and much else have I added of those things which his eyes
saw not afterward; yet are such things not yet to tell. For know
Here then the Golden Book was compiled from Eriol's writings by his
son Heorrenda -- in contrast to (5), where it was compiled by someone
unnamed, and in contrast also to the Epilogue (8), where Eriol himself
concluded and 'sealed the book'.
As I have said earlier (I. 24) Angol refers to the ancient homeland
of the 'English' before their migration across the North Sea (for the
etymology of Angol/Eriol 'ironcliffs' see I. 24, 252).
(12) There is also a genealogical table accompanying the outline (10)
md altogether agreeing with it. The table is written out in two forms that
are identical save in one point: for Beorn, brother of Eoh, in the one,
there stands in the other Hasen of Isenora (Old English: 'iron shore').
But at the end of the table is introduced the cardinal fact of all these
earliest materials concerning Eriol and Tol Eressea: Hengest and Horsa,
Eriol's sons by Cwen in Heligoland, and Heorrenda, his son by Naimi in
Tol Eressea, are bracketed together, and beneath their names is written:
conquered feg
('seo unwemmede feg')
now called Englaland
and there dwell the Angolcynn or Engle.
leg is Old English, 'isle', seo unwemmede leg 'the unstained isle'. I
have mentioned before (I. 25, footnote) a poem of my father's written at
Etaples in June 1916 and called 'The Lonely Isle', addressed to England:
this poem bears the Old English title seo Unwemmede leg.
(13) There follow in the notebook C some jottings that make precise
identifications of places in Tol Eressea with places in England.
First the name Kortirion is explained. The element Kor is derived
from an earlier Qora, yet earlier Guord; but from Guord was also
derived (i.e. in Gnomish) the form Gwar. (This formulation agrees with
that in the Gnomish dictionary, see I. 257). Thus Kor = Gwar,
andKortirion = *Gcvannindon (the asterisk implying a hypothetical,
unrecorded form). The name that was actually used in Gnomish had the
elements reversed, Mindon-Gwar. (Mindon, like Tirion, meant, and
continued always to mean, 'tower'. The meaning of Kor/Gwar is not
given here, but both in the tale of The Coming of the Elves (I. 122) and
 in the Gnomish dictionary (I. 257) the name is explained as referring to
the roundness of the hill of Kor.)

The note continues (using Old English forms): 'In Wielisc Caergwar,
in Englisc Warwic.' Thus the element War- in Warwick is derived from
the same Elvish source as Kor- in Kortirion and Gwar in Mindon-
Gwar.~ Lastly, it is said that 'Hengest's capital was Warwick'.
Next, Horsa (Hengest's brother) is associated with Oxenaford (Old
English: Oxford), which is given the equivalents Q[enya] Taruktarna
and Gnomish,* Taruithorn (see the Appendix on Names, p. 347).
The third of Eriol's sons, Heorrenda, is said to have had his 'capital' at
Great Haywood (the Staffordshire village where my parents lived in
1916 -- 17, see I. 25); and this is given the Qenya equivalents Tavaros(se)
and Taurosse, and the Gnomish Tavrobel and Tavrost; also 'Englisc
[i.e. Old English) Haegwudu se greata, Greata Haegwudu'.~
These notes conclude with the statement that 'Heorrenda called Kor
or Gwar "Tun".' In the context of these conceptions, this is obviously the
Old English word tun, an enclosed dwelling, from which has developed
the modern word town and the place-name ending -ton. Tun has
appeared several times in the Lost Tales as a later correction, or alternative
to Kor, changes no doubt dating from or anticipating the later situation
where the city was Tun and the name Kor was restricted to the hill on
which it stood. Later still Tun became Tuna, and then when the city of
the Elves was named Tirion the hill became Tuna, as it is in The
Silmarillion; by then it had ceased to have any connotation of 'dwelling-
place' and had cut free from all connection with its actual origin, as we see
it here, in Old English tun, Heorrenda's 'town'.

Can all these materials be brought together to form a coherent
narrative? I believe that they can (granting that there are certain
irreconcilable differences concerning Eriol's life), and would reconstruct
it thus:
The Eldar and the rescued Noldoli departed from the Great Lands
and came to Tol Eressea.
In Tol Eressea they built many towns and villages, and in Alalminore,
the central region of the island, Ingil son of Inwe built the town of
Koromas, 'the Resting of the Exiles of Kor' ('Exiles', because they
could not return to Valinor); and the great tower of Ingil gave the
town its name Kortirion. (See I. 16.)
Ottor Waefre came from Heligoland to Tol Eressea and dwelt in the
Cottage of Lost Play in Kortirion; the Elves named him Eriol or
Angol after the 'iron cliffs' of his home.
After a time, and greatly instructed in the ancient history of
Gods, Elves, and Men, Eriol went to visit Gilfanon in the village of
Tavrobel, and there he wrote down what he had learnt; there also he
at last drank limpe.
In Tol Eressea Eriol was wedded and had a son named Heorrenda
(Half-elven!). (According to (5) Eriol died at Tavrobel, consumed
with longing for 'the black cliffs of his shores', but according to (8),
certainly later, he lived to see the Battle of the Heath of the Sky-roof.)
The Lost Elves of the Great Lands rose against the dominion of the
servants of Melko; and the untimely Faring Forth took place, at
which time Tol Eressea was drawn east back across the Ocean and
anchored off the coasts of the Great Lands. The western half broke
off when Osse tried to drag the island back, and it became the Isle of
Iverin (= Ireland).
Tol Eressea was now in the geographical position of England.
The great battle of Ros ended in the defeat of the Elves, who retreated
into hiding in Tol Eressea.
Evil men entered Tol Eressea, accompanied by Orcs and other
hostile beings.
The Battle of the Heath of the Sky-roof took place not far from
Tavrobel, and (according to (8)) was witnessed by Eriol, who com-
pleted the Golden Book.
The Elves faded and became invisible to the eyes of almost all Men.
The sons of Eriol, Hengest, Horsa, and Heorrenda, conquered the
island and it became 'England'. They were not hostile to the Elves,
and from them the English have 'the true tradition of the fairies'.
Kortirion, ancient dwelling of the fairies, came to be known in the
tongue of the English as Warwick; Hengest dwelt there, while Horsa
dwelt at Taruithorn (Oxford) and Heorrenda at Tavrobel (Great
Haywood). (According to (11) Heorrenda completed the Golden
Book.)
This reconstruction may not be 'correct' in all its parts: indeed, it may
be that any such attempt is artificial, treating all the notes and jottings as
   of equal weight and all the ideas as strictly contemporaneous and relatable
  to each other. Nonetheless I believe that it shows rightly in essentials
how my father was thinking of ordering the narrative in which the Lost
  Tales were to be set; and I believe also that this was the conception that
still underlay the Tales as they are extant and have been given in these
books.
For convenience later I shall refer to this narrative as 'the Eriol story'.
Its most remarkable features, in contrast to the later story, are the
transformation of Tol Eressea into England, and the early appearance of
the mariner (in relation to the whole history) and his importance.
In fact, my father was exploring (before he decided on a radical
transformation of the whole conception) ideas whereby his importance
would be greatly increased.

(14) From very rough jottings it can be made out that Eriol was to be so
tormented with home longing that he set sail from Tol Eressea with his
son Heorrenda, against the command of Meril-i-Turinqi (see the passage
cited on p. 284 from The Chaining of Melko); but his purpose in doing
so was also 'to hasten the Faring Forth', which he 'preached' in the lands
of the East. Tol Eressea was drawn back to the confines of the Great
Lands, but at once hostile peoples named the Guidlin and the Brithonin
(and in one of these notes also the Rumhoth, Romans) invaded the
island. Eriol died, but his sons Hengest and Horsa conquered the
Guio1in. But because of Eriol's disobedience to the command of Meril,
in going back before the time for the Faring Forth was ripe, 'all was
cursed'; and the Elves faded before the noise and evil of war. An isolated
sentence refers to 'a strange prophecy that a man of good will, yet
through longing after the things of Men, may bring the Faring Forth
to nought .
Thus the part of Eriol was to become cardinal in the history of
the Elves; but there is no sign that these ideas ever got beyond this
exploratory stage.
I have said that I think that the reconstruction given above ('the Eriol
story') is in essentials the conception underlying the framework of the
Last Tales. This is both for positive and negative reasons: positive,
because he is there still named Eriol (see p. 300), and also because
Gilfanon, who enters (replacing Ailios) late in the development of the
Tales, appears also in citation (5) above, which is one of the main
contributors to this reconstruction; negative, because there is really
nothing to contradict what is much the easiest assumption. There is
no explicit statement anywhere in the Lost Tales that Eriol came
from England. At the beginning (I. 13) he is only 'a traveller from
far countries'; and the fact that the story he told to Veanne of his
earlier life (pp. 4 -- 7) agrees well with other accounts where his home is
explicitly in England does no more than show that the story remained
while the geography altered -- just as the 'black coasts' of his home
survived in later writing to become the western coasts of Britain, whereas
the earliest reference to them is the etymology of Angol 'iron cliffs'
(his own name, = Eriol, from the land 'between the seas', Angeln in the
Danish peninsula, whence he came: see I. 252). There is in fact a very
early, rejected, sketch of Eriol's life in which essential features of the
same story are outlined -- the attack on his father's dwelling (in this case
the destruction of Eoh's castle by his brother Beorn, see citation (10)),
Eriol's captivity and escape -- and in this note it is said that Eriol
afterwards 'wandered over the wilds of the Central Lands to the Inland
Sea, Wendelsae[Old English, the Mediterranean], and hence to
the shores of the Western Sea', whence his father had originally

come. The mention in the typescript text of the Link to the Tale of
Tinuviel (p. 6) of wild men out of the Mountains of the East, which the
duke could see fromhis tower, seems likewise to imply that at this
time Eriol's original home was placed in some 'continental' region.
The only suggestion, so far as I can see, that this view might not be
correct is found in an early poem with a complex history, texts of which I
give here.
The earliest rough drafts of this poem are extant; the original title was
'The Wanderer's Allegiance', and it is not clear that it was at first
conceived as a poem in three parts. My father subsequently wrote in
subtitles on these drafts, dividing the poem into three: Prelude, The
Inland City, and The Sorrowful City, with (apparently) an overall title
The Sorrowful City; and added a date, March 16 -- 18, 1916. In the only
later copy of the whole poem that is extant the overall title is The Town
of Dreams and the City of Present Sorrow, with the three parts titled:
Prelude (Old English Foresang), The Town of Dreams (Old English
pat Slaepende Tun), and The City of Present Sorrow (Old English
Seo Wepende Burg). This text gives the dates 'March 1916, Oxford
and Warwick; rewritten Birmingham November 1916'. 'The Town of
[ Dreams' is Warwick, on the River Avon, and 'The City of Present
Sorrow' is Oxford, on the Thames, during the First War; there is no
evident association of any kind with Eriol or the Lost Tales.
Prelude
In unknown days my fathers' sires
Came, and from son to son took root
Among the orchards and the river-meads
And the long grasses of the fragrant plain:
Many a summer saw they kindle yellow fires
Of iris in the bowing reeds,
And many a sea of blossom turn to golden fruit
In walled gardens of the great champain.
*
There daffodils among the ordered trees
Did nod in spring, and men laughed deep and long
Singing as they laboured happy lays
And lighting even with a drinking-song.
There sleep came easy for the drone of bees
Thronging about cottage gardens heaped with flowers;
In love of sunlit goodliness of days
There richly flowed their lives in settled hours --
But that was long ago,

And now no more they sing, nor reap, nor sow,
And I perforce in many a town about this isle
Unsettled wanderer have dwelt awhile.
*
The Town of Dreams.
Here many days once gently past me crept
In this dear town of old forgetfulness;
Here all entwined in dreams once long I slept
And heard no echo of the world's distress
Come through the rustle of the elms' rich leaves,
While Avon gurgling over shallows wove
Unending melody, and morns and eves
Slipped down her waters till the Autumn came,
(Like the gold leaves that drip and flutter then,
Till the dark river gleams with jets of flame
That slowly float far down beyond our ken.)
For here the castle and the mighty tower,
More lofty than the tiered elms,
More grey than long November rain,
Sleep, and nor sunlit moment nor triumphal hour,
Nor passing of the seasons or the Sun
Wakes their old lords too long in slumber lain.
No watchfulness disturbs their splendid dream,
Though laughing radiance dance down the stream;
And be they clad in snow or lashed by windy rains,
Or may March whirl the dust about the winding lanes,
The Elm robe and disrobe her of a million leaves
Like moments clustered in a crowded year,
Still their old heart unmoved nor weeps nor grieves,
Uncomprehending of this evil tide,
Today's great sadness, or Tomorrow's fear:
Faint echoes fade within their drowsy halls
Like ghosts; the daylight creeps across their walls.
*

The City of Present Sorrow.
There is a city that far distant lies
And a vale outcarven in forgotten days --
There wider was the grass, and lofty elms more rare;
The river-sense was heavy in the lowland air.
There many willows changed the aspect of the earth and skies
Where feeding brooks wound in by sluggish ways,
And down the margin of the sailing Thames
Around his broad old bosom their old stems
Were bowed, and subtle shades lay on his streams
Where their grey leaves adroop o'er silver pools
Did knit a coverlet like shimmering jewels
Of blue and misty green and filtering gleams.
*
0 aged city of an all too brief sojourn,
I see thy clustered windows each one burn
With lamps and candles of departed men.
The misty stars thy crown, the night thy dress,
Most peerless-magical thou dost possess
My heart, and old days come to life again;
Old mornings dawn, or darkened evenings bring
The same old twilight noises from the town.
Thou hast the very core of longing and delight,
To thee my spirit dances oft in sleep
Along thy great grey streets, or down
A little lamplit alley-way at night --
Thinking no more of other cities it has known,
Forgetting for a while the tree-girt keep,
And town of dreams, where men no longer sing.
For thy heart knows, and thou shedst many tears
For all the sorrow of these evil years.
Thy thousand pinnacles and fretted spires
Are lit with echoes and the lambent fires
Of many companies of bells that ring
Rousing pale visions of majestic days
The windy years have strewn down distant ways;
And in thy halls still doth thy spirit sing
Songs of old memory amid thy present tears,
Or hope of days to come half-sad with many fears.
Lo! though along thy paths no laughter runs
While war untimely takes thy many sons,
No tide of evil can thy glory drown
Robed in sad majesty, the stars thy crown.
*

In addition, there are two texts in which a part of The City of Present
Sorrow is treated as a separate entity. This begins with '0 aged city of an
all too brief sojourn', and is briefer: after the line 'Thinking no more of
other cities it has known' it ends:
Forgetting for a while that all men weep
It strays there happy and to thee it sings
'No tide of evil can thy glory drown,
Robed in sad majesty, the stars thy crown! '
This was first called The Sorrowful City, but the title was then
changed to Winsele weste, windge reste rete berofene (Beowulf
lines 2456 -- 7, very slightly adapted, the hall of feasting empty, the
resting places swept by the wind, robbed of laughter').
There are also two manuscripts in which The Town of Dreams is
treated as a separate poem, with a subtitle An old town revisited; in
one of these the primary title was later changed to The Town of Dead
Days.
Lastly, there is a poem in two parts called The Song of Eriol. This is
found in three manuscripts, the later ones incorporating minor changes
made to the predecessor (but the third has only the second part of the
poem).
The Song of Eriol
Eriol made a song in the Room of the Tale-fire telling how his feet were .
set to wandering, so that in the end he found the Lonely Isle and that
fairest town Kortirion.
In unknown days my fathers' sires
Came, and from son to son took root
Among the orchards and the river-meads
And the long grasses of the fragrant plain:
Many a summer saw they kindle yellow fires
Of flaglilies among the bowing reeds,
And many a sea of blossom turn to golden fruit
In walled gardens of the great champain.
There daffodils among the ordered trees
Did nod in spring, and men laughed deep and long
Singing as they laboured happy lays
And lighting even with a drinking-song.



There sleep came easy for the drone of bees
Thronging about cottage gardens heaped with flowers;
In love of sunlit goodliness of days
There richly flowed their lives in settled hours --
But that was long ago,
And now no more they sing, nor reap, nor sow;
And I perforce in many a town about this isle
Unsettled wanderer have dwelt awhile.
Wars of great kings and clash of armouries,
Whose swords no man could tell, whose spears
Were numerous as a wheatfield's ears,
Rolled over all the Great Lands; and the Seas
Were loud with navies; their devouring fires
Behind the armies burned both fields and towns;
And sacked and crumbled or to flaming pyres
Were cities made, where treasuries and crowns,
Kings and their folk, their wives and tender maids
Were all consumed. Now silent are those courts,
Ruined the towers, whose old shape slowly fades,
And no feet pass beneath their broken ports.
There fell my father on a field of blood,
And in a hungry siege my mother died,
And I, a captive, heard the great seas' Rood
Calling and calling, that my spirit cried
For the dark western shores whence long ago had come
Sires of my mother, and I broke my bonds,
Faring o'er wasted valleys and dead lands
Until my feet were moistened by the western sea,
Until my ears were deafened by the hum,
The splash, and roaring of the western sea --
But that was long ago
And now the dark bays and unknown waves I know,
The twilight capes, the misty archipelago,
And all the perilous sounds and salt wastes 'tween this isle
Of magic and the coasts I knew awhile.
*

One of the manuscripts of The Song of Eriol bears a later note:
'Easington 19I7 -- 18' (Easington on the estuary of the Humber, see
Humphrey Carpenter, Biography, p. 97). It may be that the second
part of ?he Song of Eriol was written at Easington and added to the
first part (formerly the Prelude) already in existence.
Little can be derived from this poem of a strictly narrative nature, save
the lineaments of the same tale: Eriol's father fell 'on a field of blood',
when 'wars of great kings... rolled over all the Great Lands', and his
mother died 'in a hungry siege' (the same phrase is used in the Link to the
Tale of Tinuviel, pp. 5 -- 6); he himself was made a captive, but escaped,
and came at last to the shores of the Western Sea (whence his mother's
people had come).
The fact that the first part of The Song of Eriol is also found as the
Prelude to a poem of which the subjects are Warwick and Oxford might
make one suspect that the castle with a great tower overhanging a river in
the story told by Eriol to Veanne was once again Warwick. But I do not
think that this is so. There remains in any case the objection that it would
be difficult to accommodate the attack on it by men out of the Mountains
of the East which the duke could see from his tower; but also I think it is
plain that the original tripartite poem had been dissevered, and the
Prelude given a new bearing: my father's 'fathers' sires' became Eriol's
'fathers' sires'. At the same time, certain powerful images were at once
dominant and fluid, and the great tower of Eriol's home was indeed to
become the tower of Kortirion or Warwick, when (as will be seen
shortly) the structure of the story of the mariner was radically changed.
And nothing could show more clearly than does the evolution of this
poem the complex root from which the story rose.
Humphrey Carpenter, writing in his Biography of my father's life
after he returned to Oxford in 1925, says (p. 169):
He made numerous revisions and recastings of the principal stories
in the cycle, deciding to abandon the original sea-voyager 'Eriol' to
whom the stories were told, and instead renaming him 'AElfwine' or
'elf-friend'.
That Eriol was (for a time) displaced by AElfawine is certain. But while
it may well be that at the time of the texts now to be considered the name
Eriol had actually been rejected, in the first version of 'The Silmarillion'
proper, written in 1926, Eriol reappears, while in the earliest Annals
of Valinor, written in the 1930s, it is said that they were translated in
Tol Eressea 'by Eriol of Leithien, that is AElfwine of the Angelcynn'. On
the other hand, at this earlier period it seems entirely justifiable on the
evidence to treat the two names as indicative of different narrative pro-
jections -- 'the Eriol story' and 'the AEfwine story'.

'AElfwine', then, is associated with a new conception, subsequent to
 the writing of the Lost Tales. The mariner is AElfwine, not Eriol, in the
second 'Scheme' for the Tales, which I have called 'an unrealised project
for the revision of the whole work' (see I. 234). The essential difference
may be made clear now, before citing the difficult evidence: Tol Eressea
is now in no may identified with England, and the story of the
 drawing back of the Lonely Island across the sea has been abandoned.
England is indeed still at the heart of this later conception, and is named
Luthany.~ The mariner, AElfwine, is an Englishman sailing westward
from the coast of Britain; and his role is diminished. For whereas in the
writings studied thus far he comes to Tol Eressea before the denouement
and disaster of the Faring Forth, and either he himself or his descendants
witness the devastation of Tol Eressea by the invasion of Men and their
evil allies (in one line of development he was even to be responsible for it,
p. 294), in the later narrative outlines he does not arrive until all the
grievous history is done. His part is only to learn and to record.~
I turn now to a number of short and very oblique passages, written on
separate slips, but found together and clearly dating from much the same
time.
(15) AElfwine of England dwelt in the South-west; he was of the kin of
Ing, King of Luthany. His mother and father were slain by the
sea-pirates and he was made captive.
He had always loved the fairies: his father had told him many
things (of the tradition of Ing). He escapes. He beats about the
northern and western waters. He meets the Ancient Mariner -- and
seeks for Tol Eressea (seo unwemmede ieg), whither most of the
unfaded Elves have retired from the noise, war, and clamour of
Men.
The Elves greet him, and the more so when they learn of him
who he is. They call him Luthien the man of Luthany. He finds
his own tongue, the ancient English tongue, is spoken in the isle.
. The 'Ancient Mariner' has appeared in the story that Eriol told to Veanne
{pp. 5, 7), and much more will be told of him subsequently.
(16) AElfwine of Englaland, [added later: driven by the Normans,]
arrives in Tol Eressea, whither most of the fading Elves have
withdrawn from the world, and there fade now no more.
Description of the harbour of the southern shore. The fairies
greet him well hearing he is from Englaland. He is surprised to
hear them speak the speech of AElfred of Wessex, though to one
another they spoke a sweet and unknown tongue.
The Elves name him Luthien for he is come from Luthany, as
they call it ('friend' and 'friendship'). Eldaros or AElfham. He is

sped to Ros their capital. There he finds the Cottage of Lost Play,
and Lindo and Vaire.
He tells who he is and whence, and why he has long sought for
the isle (by reason of traditions in the kin of Ing), and he begs the
Elves to come back to Englaland.
Here begins (as an explanation of why they cannot) the series of
stories called the Book of Lost Tales.
In this passage (16) AElfwine becomes more firmly rooted in English
history: he is apparently a man of eleventh-century Wessex -- but as in
(15) he is of 'the kin of Ing'. The capital of the Elves of Tol Eressea is not
Kortirion but Ros, a name now used in a quite different application from
that in citation (5), where it was a promontory of the Great Lands.
I have been unable to find any trace of the process whereby the name
Luthien came to be so differently applied afterwards (Luthien Tinuviel).
Another note of this period explains the name quite otherwise: 'Luthien
or Lusion was son of Telumaith (Telumektar). AElfwine loved the sign
of Orion, and made the sign, hence the fairies called him Luthien
(Wanderer).' There is no other mention of AElfwine's peculiar association
with Orion nor of this interpretation of the name Luthien; and this seems
to be a development that my father did not pursue.
It is convenient to give here the opening passage from the second
Scheme for the Lost Tales, referred to above; this plainly belongs to the
same time as the rest of these 'AElfwine' notes, when the Tales had been
written so far as they ever went within their first framework.
(17) AElfwine awakens upon a sandy beach. He listens to the sea, which
is far out. The tide is low and has left him.
AElfwine meets the Elves of Ros; finds they speak the speech of
the English, beside their own sweet tongue. Why they do so -- the
dwelling of Elves in Luthany and their faring thence and back.
They clothe him and feed him, and he sets forth to walk along the
island's flowery ways.
The scheme goes on to say that on a summer evening AElfwine came to
Kortirion, and thus differs from (16), where he goes to 'Ros their
capital', in which he finds the Cottage of Lost Play. The name Ros seems
to be used here in yet another sense -- possibly a name for Tol Eressea.
(18) He is sped to AElfham (Elfhome) Eldos where Lindo and Vaire tell
him many things: of the making and ancient fashion of the world:
of the Gods: of the Elves of Valinor: of Lost Elves and Men: of
the Travail of the Gnomes: of Earendel: of the Faring Forth
and the Loss of Valinor: of the disaster of the Faring Forth and the
war with evil Men. The retreat to Luthany where Ingwe was king.

Of the home-thirst of the Elves and how the greater number
sought back to Valinor; The loss of Elwing. How a new home was
made by the Solosimpi and others in Tol Eressea. How the Elves
continually sadly leave the world and fare thither.
For the interpretation of this passage it is essential to realise (the key
indeed to the understanding of this projected history) that 'the Faring
Forth' does not here refer to the Faring Forth in the sense in which it has
been used hitherto -- that from Tol Eressea for the Rekindling of the
Magic Sun, which ended in ruin, but to the March of the Elves of Kor
and the 'Loss of Valinor' that the March incurred (see pp. 253, 257,
280). It is not indeed clear why it is here called a 'disaster': but this is
evidently to be associated with 'the war with evil Men', and war between
Elves and Men at the time of the March from Kor is referred to in
citations (1) and (3).
In 'the Eriol story' it is explicit that after the March from Kor the Elves
departed from the Great Lands to Tol Eressea; here on the other hand
'the war with evil Men' is followed by 'the retreat to Luthany where
 Ingwe was king'. The (partial) departure to Tol Eressea is from Luthany;
the loss of Elwing seems to take place on one of these voyages. As will be
seen, the 'Faring Forth' of 'the Eriol story' has disappeared as an event of
Elvish history, and is only mentioned as a prophecy and a hope.
Schematically the essential divergence of the two narrative structures
can be shown thus:

(Eriol story).
March of the Elves of Kor to the
Great Lands
War with Men in the Great Lands
 Retreat of the Elves to Tol Eressea
(loss of Elwing)
Eriol sails from the East (North
Sea region) to Tol Eressea
The Faring Forth, drawing of Tol
Eressea to the Great Lands; ul-
timately Tol Eressea > England

(AElfsvine story).
March of the Elves of Kor to the
Great Lands (called 'the Faring
Forth')
War with Men in the Great Lands
Retreat of the Elves to Luthany
(> England) ruled by Ingwe
Departure of many Elves to Tol
Eressea (loss of Elwing)
AElfwine sails from England to Tol
Eressea

This is of course by no means a full statement of the AElfwine story, and is
merely set out to indicate the radical difference of structure. Lacking
from it is the history of Luthany, which emerges from the passages that
now follow.

(19) Luthany means 'friendship', Luthien 'friend'. Luthany the only
land where Men and Elves once dwelt an age in peace and love.
How for a while after the coming of the sons of Ing the Elves
throve again and ceased to fare away to Tol Eressea.
How Old English became the sole mortal language which an Elf
will speak to a mortal that knows no Elfin.
(20) AElfwine of England (whose father and mother were slain by the
fierce Men of the Sea who knew not the Elves) was a great lover of
the Elves, especially of the shoreland Elves that lingered in the
land. He seeks for Tol Eressea whither the fairies are said to have
retired.
He reaches it. The fairies call him Luthien. He learns of the
making of the world,....... of Gods and Elves, of Elves and
Men, down to the departure to Tol Eressea.
How the Faring Forth came to nought, and the fairies took
refuge in Albion or Luthany (the Isle of Friendship).
Seven invasions.
Of the coming of Men to Luthany, how each race quarrelled,
and the fairies faded, until [? the most] set sail, after the coming of
the Rumhoth, for the West. Why the Men of the seventh invasion,
the Ingwaiwar, are more friendly.
Ingwe and Earendel who dwelt in Luthany before it was an isle
and was [sic] driven east by Osse to found the Ingwaiwar.
(21) All the descendants of Ing were well disposed to Elves; hence the
remaining Elves of Luthany spoke to [?them] in the ancient
tongue of the English, and since some have fared..... to Tol
Eressea that tongue is there understood, and all who wish to speak
to the Elves, if they know not and have no means of learning Elfin
speeches, must converse in the ancient tongue of the English.
In (20) the term 'Faring Forth' must again be used as it is in (18), of the
March from Kor. There it was called a 'disaster' (see p. 303), and here it
is said that it 'came to nought': it must be admitted that it is hard to see
how that can be said, if it led to the binding of Melko and the release of
the enslaved Noldoli (see (1) and (3)).
Also in (20) is the first appearance of the idea of the Seven Invasions of
Luthany. One of these was that of the Rumhoth (mentioned also in (14))
or Romans; and the seventh was that of the Ingwaiwar, who were not
hostile to the Elves.
Here something must be said of the name Ing (Ingwe, Ingwaiar) in
these passages. As with the introduction of Hengest and Horsa, the
association of the mythology with ancient English legend is manifest.
But it would serve no purpose, I believe, to enter here into the obscure .
and speculative scholarship of English and Scandinavian origins: the

Roman writers' term Inguaeones for the Baltic maritime peoples from
whom the English came; the name Ingwine (interpretable either as
Ing-wine 'the friends of Ing' or as containing the same Ingw-seen in
Inguaeones); or the mysterious personage Ing who appears in the Old
English Runic Poem:
Ing waes aerest mid East-Denum
   gesewen secgum op he sippaneast
   ofer waeg gewat; waen after ran
-- which may be translated: 'Ing was first seen by men among the East
Danes, until he departed eastwards over the waves; his car sped after
him.' It would serve no purpose, because although the connection of
my father's Ing, Ingwe with the shadowy Ing (Ingw-) of northern
historical legend is certain and indeed obvious he seems to have been
intending no more than an association of his mythology with known
traditions (though the words of the Runie Poem were clearly influential).
The matter is made particularly obscure by the fact that in these notes
the names Ing and Ingwe intertwine with each other, but are never
expressly differentiated or identified.
Thus AElfwine was 'of the kin of Ing, King of Luthany' (15, 16), but
the Elves retreated 'to Luthany where Ingwe was king' (18). The Elves of
Luthany throve again 'after the coming of the sons of Ing' (19), and the
Ingwaiwar, seventh of the invaders of Luthany, were more friendly to
the Elves (20), while Ingwe 'founded' the Ingwaiwar (20). This name is
certainly to be equated with Inguaeones (see above), and the invasion of
the Ingwaiwar (or 'sons of Ing') equally certainly represents the 'Anglo-
Saxon' invasion of Britain. Can Ing, Ingwe be equated? So far as this
present material is concerned, I hardly see how they can not be. Whether
this ancestor-founder is to be equated with Inwe' (whose son was Ingil)
of the Lost Tales is another question. It is hard to believe that there is no
connection (especially since Inwe' in The Cottage of Lost Play is
emended from Ing, I.22), yet it is equally difficult to see what that
connection could be, since Inwe of the Lost Tales is an Elda of Kor
(Ingwe Lord of the Vanyar in The Silmarillion) while Ing(we) of 'the
AElfwine story' is a Man, the King of Luthany and AElfwine's ancestor.
(In outlines for Gilfanon's Tale it is said that Ing King of Luthany was
descended from Ermon, or from Ermon and Elmir (the first Men,
I. 236-7).)
The following outlines tell some more concerning Ing(we) and the
Ingwaiwar:
(22) How Ing sailed away at eld [i.e. in old age] into the twilight, and
Men say he came to the Gods, but he dwells on Tol Eressea, and
will guide the fairies one day back to Luthany when the Faring
Forth takes place.*
 (* The term 'Faring Forth' is used here in a prophetic sense, not as it is in (18)
and (20).)

How he prophesied that his kin should fare back again and
possess Luthany until the days of the coming of the Elves.
How the land of Luthany was seven times invaded by Men,
until at the seventh the children of the children of Ing came back
to their own.
How at each new war and invasion the Elves faded, and each
loved the Elves less, until the Rumhoth came -- and they did not
even believe they existed, and the Elves all fled, so that save for a
few the isle was empty of the Elves for three hundred years.
(23) How Ingwe drank limpe at the hands of the Elves and reigned
ages in Luthany.
How Earendel came to Luthany to find the Elves gone.
How Ingwe aided him, but was not suffered to go with him.
Earendel blessed all his progeny as the mightiest sea-rovers of the
world.~
How Osse made war upon Ingwe because of Earendel, and Ing
longing for the Elves set sail, and all were wrecked after being
driven far east.
How Ing the immortal came among the Dani OroDani
Urdainoth East Danes.
How he became the half-divine king of the Ingwaiwar, and
taught them many things of Elves and Gods, so that some true
knowledge of the Gods and Elves lingered in that folk alone.
Part of another outline that does not belong with the foregoing passages
but covers the same part of the narrative as (23) may be given here:
(24) Earendel takes refuge with [Ingwe] from the wrath of Osse, and
gives him a draught of limpe (enough to assure immortality).
He gives him news of the Elves and the dwelling on Tol Eressea.
Ingwe and a host of his folk set sail to find Tol Eressea, but
Osse blows them back east. They are utterly wrecked. Only Ingwe
rescued on a raft. He becomes king of the Angali, Euti, Saksani,
and Firisandi,* who adopt the title of Ingwaiwar. He teaches
them much magic and first sets men's hearts to seafaring west-
ward......
After a great [? age of rule] Ingwe sets sail in a little boat and is
heard of no more.
It is clear that the intrusion of Luthany, and Ing(we), into the
conception has caused a movement in the story of Earendel: whereas in
the older version he went to Tol Eressea after the departure of the Eldar
and Noldoli from the Great Lands (pp. 253, 255), now he goes to
(* Angles, Saxons, Jutes, and Frisians.)

Luthany; and the idea of Osse's enmity towards Earendel (pp. 254,
263) is retained but brought into association with the origin of the
Ingwaiwar.
It is clear that the narrative structure is:
Ing(we) King of Luthany.
Earendel seeks refuge with him (after [many of] the Elves have
departed to Tol Eressea).
Ing(we) seeks Tol Eressea but is driven into the East.
Seven invasions of Luthany.
The people of Ing(we) are the Ingwaiwar, and they 'come back to
their own' when they invade Luthany from across the North Sea.
(25) Luthany was where the tribes first embarked in the Lonely Isle for
Valinor, and whence they landed for the Faring Forth,* whence
[also] many sailed with Elwing to find Tol Eressea.
That Luthany was where the Elves, at the end of the great journey from
Palisor, embarked on the Lonely Isle for the Ferrying to Valinor, is
probably to be connected with the statement in (20) that 'Ingwe and
Earendel dwelt in Luthany before it was an isle'.
(26) There are other references to the channel separating Luthany
from the Great Lands: in rough jottings in notebook C there is mention
of an isthmus being cut by the Elves, 'fearing Men now that Ingwe has
gone', and 'to the white cliffs where the silver spades of the Teleri
worked ., also in the next citation.
(27) The Elves tell AElfwine of the ancient manner of Luthany, of
Kortirion or Gwarthyryn (Caer Gwar)," of Tavrobel.
How the fairies dwelt there a hundred ages before Men had the
skill to build boats to cross the channel -- so that magic lingers yet
mightily in its woods and hills.
How they renamed many a place in Tol Eressea after their home
in Luthany. Of the Second Faring Forth and the fairies' hope to
reign in Luthany and replant there the magic trees -- and it
depends most on the temper of the Men of Luthany (since they
first must come there) whether all goes well.
Notable here is the reference to 'the Second Faring Forth', which
strongly supports my interpretation of the expression 'Faring Forth' in
(18), (20), and (25); but the prophecy or hope of the Elves concerning
(* In the sense of the March of the Elves from Kor, as in (18) and (20).)

the Faring Forth has been greatly changed from its nature in citation (6):
here, the Trees are to be replanted in Luthany.
(28) How AElfwine lands in Tol Eressea and it seems to him like his own
land made....... clad in the beauty of a happy dream. How the
folk comprehended [his speech] and learn whence he is come by
the favour of Ulmo. How he is sped to Kortirion.
With these two passages it is interesting to compare (9), the prose preface
to Kortirion among the Trees, according to which Kortirion was a city
built by the Elves in Tol Eressea; and when Tol Eressea was brought
across the sea, becoming England, Kortirion was renamed in the tongue
of the English Warwick (13). In the new story, Kortirion is likewise an
ancient dwelling of the Elves, but with the change in the fundamental
conception it-is in Luthany; and the Kortirion to which AElfwine comes
in Tol Eressea is the second of the name (being called 'after their home in
Luthany'). There has thus been a very curious transference, which may
be rendered schematically thus:

(I) Kortirion, Elvish dwelling in Tol Eressea.
Tol Eressea -- + England.
Kortirion = Warwick.
(II) Kortirion, Elvish dwelling in Luthany (> England).
Elves --> Tol Eressea.
Kortirion (2) in Tol Eressea named after Kortirion (t)
in Luthany.


On the basis of the foregoing passages, (15) to (28), we may attempt to
construct a narrative taking account of all the essential features:

March of the Elves of Kor (called 'the Faring Forth', or (by implica-
tion in 27) 'the First Faring Forth') into the Great Lands, landing in
Luthany (25), and the Loss of Valinor (18).
War with evil Men in the Great Lands (18).
The Elves retreated to Luthany (not yet an island) where Ing(we)
was king (18, 20).
Many [but by no means all] of the Elves of Luthany sought back west
over the sea and settled in Tol Eressea; but Elwing was lost (18, 25).
Places in Tol Eressea were named after places in Luthany (27).

Earendel came to Luthany, taking refuge with Ing(we) from the
hostility of Osse (20, 23, 24).

Earendel gave Ing(we) limpe to drink (24), or Ing(we) received
limpe from the Elves before Earendel came (23).

Earendel blessed the progeny of Ing(we) before his departure (23).
Osse's hostility to Earendel pursued Ing(we) also (23, 24).
Ing(we) set sail (with many of his people, 24) to find Tol Eressea (23,
24).
Ing(we)'s voyage, through the enmity of Osse, ended in shipwreck,
but Ing(we) survived, and far to the East [i.e. after being driven
across the North Sea] he became King of the Ingwaiwar the ancestors
of the Anglo-Saxon invaders of Britain (23, 24).
Ing(we) instructed the Ingwaiwar in true knowledge of the Gods and
Elves (23) and turned their hearts to seafaring westwards (24). He
prophesied that his kin should one day return again to Luthany (22).
Ing(we) at length departed in a boat (22, 24), and was heard of no
more (24), or came to Tol Eressea (22).
After Ing(we)'s departure from Luthany a channel was made so that
Luthany became an isle (26); but Men crossed the channel in boats
(27)-
Seven successive invasions took place, including that of the Rumhoth
or Romans, and at each new war more of the remaining Elves of
Luthany fled over the sea (20, 22).
The seventh invasion, that of the Ingwaiwar, was however not hostile
to the Elves (20, 21); and these invaders were 'coming back to their
own' (22), since they were the people of Ing(we).
The Elves of Luthany (now England) throve again and ceased to
leave Luthany for Tol Eressea (19), and they spoke to the Ingwaiwar
in their own language, Old English (21).
AElfwine was an Englishman of the Anglo-Saxon period, a descendant
of Ing(we), who had derived a knowledge of and love of the Elves
from the tradition of his family (15, 16).
AElfwine came to Tol Eressea, found that Old English was spoken
there, and was called by the Elves Luthien 'friend', the Man of
Luthany(the Isleof Friendship) (15, 16, 19).
I claim no more for this than that it seems to me to be the only way in
which these disjecta membra can be set together into a comprehensive
narrative scheme. It must be admitted even so that it requires some
forcing of the evidence to secure apparent agreement. For example, there
seem to be different views of the relation of the Ingwaiwar to Ing(we):
they are 'the sons of Ing' (19), 'his kin' (22), 'the children of the children
of Ing' (22), yet he seems to have become the king and teacher of North
Sea peoples who had no connection with Luthany or the Elves (23, 24).
(Over whom did he rule when the Elves first retreated to Luthany (18,
23)?) Again, it is very difficult to fit the 'hundred ages' during which the

Elves dwelt in Luthany before the invasions of Men began (27) to the rest
of the scheme. Doubtless in these jottings my father was thinking with
his pen, exploring independent narrative paths; one gets the impression
of a ferment of ideas and possibilities rapidly displacing one another,
from which no one stable narrative core can be extracted. A complete
'solution' is therefore in all probability an unreal aim, and this recon-
struction no doubt as artificial as that attempted earlier for 'the Eriol
story' (see p. 293). But here as there I believe that this outline shows as
well as can be the direction of my father's thought at that time.
There is very little to indicate the further course of 'the AElfwine story'
after his sojourn in Tol Eressea (as I have remarked, p. 301, the part of
the mariner is only to learn and record tales out of the past); and virtually
all that can be learned from these notes is found on a slip that reads:
(29) How AElfwine drank of limpe but thirsted for his home, and went
back to Luthany; and thirsted then unquenchably for the Elves,
and went back to Tavrobel the Old and dwelt in the House of the
Hundred Chimneys (where grows still the child of the child of the
Pine of Belawryn) and wrote the Golden Book.
Associated with this is a title-page:
(30)The Book of Lost Tales
and the History of the Elves of Luthany
[?being]
The Golden Book of Tavrobel
the same that AElfwine wrote and laid in the House of a Hundred
Chimneys at Tavrobel, where it lieth still to read for such as may.
These are very curious. Tavrobel the Old must be the original Tavrobel
in Luthany (after which Tavrobel in Tol Eressea was named, just as
Kortirion in Tol Eressea was named after Kortirion = Warwick in
Luthany); and the House of the Hundred Chimneys (as also the Pine of
Belawryn, on which see p. 281 and note 4) was to be displaced from Tol
Eressea to Luthany. Presumably my father intended to rewrite those
passages in the 'framework' of the Lost Tales where the House of a
Hundred Chimneys in Tavrobel is referred to; unless there was to be
another House of a Hundred Chimneys in Tavrobel the New in Tol
Eressea.
Lastly, an interesting entry in the Qenya dictionary may be mentioned
here: Parma Kuluinen 'the Golden Book -- the collected book of legends,
especially of Ing and Earendel'.
*

In the event, of all these projections my father only developed the story
of AElfwine's youth and his voyage to Tol Eressea to a full and polished
form, and to this work I now turn; but first it is convenient to collect the
passages previously considered that bear on it.
In the opening Link to the Tale of Tinuviel Eriol said that 'many years
agone', when he was a child, his home was 'in an old town of Men girt
with a wall now crumbled and broken, and a river ran thereby over which
a castle with a great tower hung'.
My father came of a coastward folk, and the love of the sea that I had
never seen was in my bones, and my father whetted my desire, for he
told me tales that his father had told him before. Now my mother died
in a cruel and hungry siege of that old town, and my father was slain in
bitter fight about the walls, and in the end I Eriol escaped to the
shoreland of the Western Sea.
 Eriol told then of
his wanderings about the western havens,... of how he was wrecked
upon far western islands until at last upon one lonely one he came upon
an ancient sailor who gave him shelter, and over a fire within his lonely
cabin told him strange tales of things beyond the Western Seas, of the
Magic Isles and that most lonely one that lay beyond....
'Ever after,' said Eriol, 'did I sail more curiously about the western
isles seeking more stories of the kind, and thus it is indeed that after
many great voyages I came myself by the blessing of the Gods to Tol
Eressea in the end...'
In the typescript version of this Link it is further told that in the town
 where Eriol's parents lived and died
there dwelt a mighty duke, and did he gaze from the topmost battle-
ments never might he see the bounds of his wide domain, save where
far to east the blue shapes of the great mountains lay -- yet was that
tower held the most lofty that stood in the lands of Men.
 The siege and sack of the town were the work of 'the wild men from the
Mountains of the East'.
At the end of the typescript version the boy Ausir assured Eriol that
 'that ancient mariner beside the lonely sea was none other than Ulmo's
self, who appeareth not seldom thus to those voyagers whom he loves';
but Eriol did not believe him.
I have given above (pp. 294 -- 5) reasons for thinking that in 'the Eriol
story' this tale of his youth was not set in England.
Turning to the passages concerned with the later, AElfivine story, we
learn from (15) that AElfwine dwelt in the South-west of England and

that his mother and father were slain by 'the sea-pirates', and from (20)
that they were slain by 'the fierce Men of the Sea', from (16) that he was
'driven by the Normans'. In (15) there is a mention of his meeting with
'the Ancient Mariner' during his voyages. In (16) he comes to 'the
harbour of the southern shore' of Tol Eressea; and in (17) he 'awakens
upon a sandy beach' at low tide.
I come now to the narrative that finally emerged. It will be observed,
perhaps with relief, that Ing, Ingwe, and the Ingwaiwar have totally
disappeared.
AELFWINE OF ENGLAND.
There are three versions of this short work. One is a plot-outline of
less than 500 words, which for convenience of reference I shall call
AElfwine A; but the second is a much more substantial narrative bearing
the title AElfwine of England. This was written in 1920 or later: demon-
strably not earlier, for my father used for it scraps of paper pinned
together, and some of these are letters to him, all dated in February
1920.~ The third text no doubt began as a fair copy in ink of the second,
to which it is indeed very close at first, but became as it proceeded a com-
plete rewriting at several points, with the introduction of much new
matter, and it was further emended after it had been completed. It bears
no title in the manuscript, but must obviously be called AElfwine of
England likewise.
For convenience I shall refer to the first fully-written version as
AElfwine I and to its rewriting as AElfwine II. The relation of AElfwine A
to these is hard to determine, since it agrees in some respects with
the one and in some with the other. It is obvious that my father had
AElfwine I in front of him when he wrote AElfwine II, but it seems likely
that he drew on AElfwine A at the same time.
I give here the full text of AElfwine II in its final form, with all note-
worthy emendations and all important differences from the other texts in
the notes (differences in names, and changes to names, are listed
separately).
There was a land called England, and it was an island of the
West, and before it was broken in the warfare of the Gods it was
westernmost of all the Northern lands, and looked upon the
Great Sea that Men of old called Garsecg,~ but that part that
was broken was called Ireland and many names besides, and its
dwellers come not into these tales.
All that land the Elves named Luthien~ and do so yet. In
Luthien alone dwelt still the most part of the Fading Companies,
the Holy Fairies that have not yet sailed away from the world,

beyond the horizon of Men's knowledge, to the Lonely Island,
or even to the Hill of Tun~' upon the Bay of Faery that washes
the western shores of the kingdom of the Gods. Therefore is
Luthien even yet a holy land, and a magic that is not otherwise
lingers still in many places of that isle.
Now amidmost of that island is there still a town that is aged
among Men, but its age among the Elves is greater far; and, for
this is a book of the Lost Tales of Elfinesse, it shall be named in
their tongue Kortirion, which the Gnomes call Mindon Gwar.~
Upon the hill of Gwar dwelt in the days of the English a man
and his name was Deor, and he came thither from afar, from the
south of the island and from the forests and from the enchanted
West, where albeit he was of the English folk he had long time
wandered. Now the Prince of Gwar was in those days a lover of
songs and no enemy of the Elves, and they lingered yet most of
all the isle in those regions about Kortirion (which places they
called Alalminore, the Land of Elms), and thither came Deor
the singer to seek the Prince of Gwar and to seek the companies
of the Fading Elves, for he was an Elf-friend. Though Deor was
of English blood, it is told that he wedded to wife a maiden from
the West, from Lionesse as some have named it since, or
Evadrien 'Coast of Iron' as the Elves still say. Deor found her in
the lost land beyond Belerion whence the Elves at times set sail.
Mirth had Deor long time in Mindon Gwar, but the Men of
the North, whom the fairies of the island called Forodwaith,
but whom Men called other names, came against Gwar in those
days when they ravaged wellnigh all the land of Luthien. Its
walls availed not and its towers might not withstand them for
ever, though the siege was long and bitter.
There Eadgifu (for so did Deor name the maiden of the West,
though it was not her name aforetime)~ died in those evil
hungry days; but Deor fell before the walls even as he sang a
song of ancient valour for the raising of men's hearts. That was a
desperate sally, and the son of Deor was AElfwine, and he was
then but a boy left fatherless. The sack of that town thereafter
was very cruel, and whispers of its ancient days alone remained,
and the Elves that had grown to love the English of the isle fled
or hid themselves for a long time, and none of Elves or Men
were left in his old halls to lament the fall of Oswine Prince of
Gwar.
Then AElfwine, even he whom the unfaded Elves beyond the
waters of Garsecg did after name Eldairon of Luthien (which is


AElfwine of England), was made a thrall to the fierce lords of the
Forodwaith, and his boyhood knew evil days. But behold a
wonder, for AElfwine knew not and had never seen the sea, yet
he heard its great voice speaking deeply in his heart, and its
murmurous choirs sang ever in his secret ear between wake and
sleep, that he was filled with longing. This was of the magic of
Eadgifu, maiden of the West, his mother, and this longing
unquenchable had been hers all the days that she dwelt in the
quiet inland places among the elms of Mindon Gwar -- and
amidmost of her longing was AElfwine her child born, and the
Foamriders, the Elves of the Sea-marge, whom she had known
of old in Lionesse, sent messengers to his birth. But now
Eadgifu was gone beyond the Rim of Earth, and her fair form
lay unhonoured in Mindon Gwar, and Deor's harp was silent,
but AElfwine laboured in thraldom until the threshold of man-
hood, dreaming dreams and filled with longing, and at rare
times holding converse with the hidden Elves.
At last his longing for the sea bit him so sorely that he
contrived to break his bonds, and daring great perils and suffer-
ing many grievous toils he escaped to lands where the Lords of
the Forodwaith had not come, far from the places of Deor's
abiding in Mindon Gwar. Ever he wandered southward and to
the west, for that way his feet unbidden led him. Now AElfwine
had in a certain measure the gift of elfin-sight (which was not
given to all Men in those days of the fading of the Elves and still
less is it granted now), and the folk of Luthien were less faded
too in those days, so that many a host of their fair companies he
saw upon his wandering road. Some there were dwelt yet and
danced yet about that land as of old, but many more there were
that wandered slowly and sadly westward; for behind them all
the land was full of burnings and of war, and its dwellings ran
with tears and with blood for the little love of Men for Men -- nor
was that the last of the takings of Luthien by Men from Men,
which have been seven, and others mayhap still shall be. Men of
the East and of the West and of the South and of the North have
coveted that land and dispossessed those who held it before
them, because of its beauty and goodliness and of the glamour
of the fading ages of the Elves that lingered still among its trees
beyond its high white shores.~
Yet at each taking of that isle have many more of the most
ancient of all dwellers therein, the folk of Luthien, turned
westward; and they have got them in ships at Belerion in the

West and sailed thence away for ever over the horizon of Men's
knowledge, leaving the island the poorer for their going and its
leaves less green; yet still it abides the richest among Men in
the presence of the Elves. And it is said that, save only when the
fierce fathers of Men, foes of the Elves, being new come under
the yoke of Evil,~ entered first that land, never else did so great
a concourse of elfin ships and white-winged galleons sail to the
setting sun as in those days when the ancient Men of the South
set first their mighty feet upon the soil of Luthien -- the Men
whose lords sat in the city of power that Elves and Men have
called Rum (but the Elves alone do know as Magbar).~
Now is it the dull hearts of later days rather than the red deeds
of cruel hands that set the minds of the little folk to fare away;
and ever and anon a little ship~ weighs anchor from Belerion at
eve and its sweet sad song is lost for ever on the waves. Yet even
in the days of AElfwine there was many a laden ship under elfin
sails that left those shores for ever, and many a comrade he had,
seen or half-unseen, upon his westward road. And so he came at
last to Belerion, and there he laved his weary feet in the grey
waters of the Western Sea, whose great roaring drowned his
ears. There the dim shapes of Elvish~ boats sailed by him in the
gloaming, and many aboard called to him farewell. But he
might not embark on those frail craft, and they refused his
prayer -- for they were not willing that even one beloved among
Men should pass with them' beyond the edge of the West, or
learn what lies far out on Garsecg the great and measureless sea.
Now the men who dwelt thinly about those places nigh Belerion
were fishermen, and AElfwine abode long time amongst them,
and being of nature shaped inly thereto he learned all that a man
may of the craft of ships and of the sea. He recked little of his
life, and he set his ocean-paths wider than most of those men,
good mariners though they were; and there were few in the end
who dared to go with him, save AElfheah the fatherless who was
with him in all ventures until his last voyage.~
Now on a time journeying far out into the open sea, being first
becalmed in a thick mist, and after driven helpless by a mighty
wind from the East, he espied some islands lying in the dawn,
but he won not ever thereto for the winds changing swept him
again far away, and only his strong fate saved him to see the
black coasts of his abiding once again. Little content was he
with his good fortune, and purposed in his heart to sail some
time again yet further into the West, thinking unwitting it was

the Magic Isles of the songs of Men that he had seen from afar.
Few companions could he get for this adventure. Not all men
love to sail a quest for the red sun or to tempt the dangerous seas
in thirst for undiscovered things. Seven such found he in the
end, the greatest mariners that were then in England, and Ulmo
Lord of the Sea afterward took them to himself and their names
are now forgotten, save AElfheah only.~ A great storm fell upon
their ship even as they had sighted the isles of AElfwine's desire,
and a great sea swept over her; but AElfwine was lost in the
waves, and coming to himself saw no sign of ship or comrades,
and he lay upon a bed of sand in a deep-walled cove. Dark and
very empty was the isle, and he knew then that these were not
those Magic Isles of which he had heard often tell."
There wandering long, 'tis said, he came upon many hulls of
wrecks rotting on the long gloomy beaches, and some were
wrecks of many mighty ships of old, and some were treasure-
laden. A lonely cabin looking westward he found at last upon
the further shore, and it was made of the upturned hull of a
small ship. An ancient man dwelt there, and AElfwine feared
him, for the eyes of the man were as deep as the unfathomable,
sea, and his long beard was blue and grey; great was his stature,
and his shoes were of stone,~ but he was all clad in tangled rags,
sitting beside a small fire of drifted wood.
In that strange hut beside an empty sea did AElfwine long
abide for lack of other shelter or of other counsel, thinking his
ship lost and his comrades drowned. But the ancient man grew
kindly toward him, and questioned AElfwine concerning his
coming and his goings and whither he had desired to sail before
the storm took him. And many things before unheard did
AElfwine hear tell of him beside that smoky fire at eve, and
strange tales of wind-harried ships and harbourless tempests in
the forbidden waters. Thus heard AElfwine how the Magic Isles
were yet a great voyage before him keeping a dark and secret
ward upon the edge of Earth, beyond whom the waters of
Garsecg grow less troublous and there lies the twilight of the
latter days of Fairyland. Beyond and on the confines of the
Shadows lies the Lonely Island looking East to the Magic
Archipelago and to the lands of Men beyond it, and West into
the Shadows beyond which afar off is glimpsed the Outer Land,
the kingdom of the Gods -- even the aged Bay of Faery whose
glory has grown dim. Thence slopes the world steeply beyond
the Rim of Things to Valinor, that is God-home, and to the

Wall and to the edge of Nothingness whereon are sown the
stars. But the Lonely Isle is neither of the Great Lands or of
the Outer Land, and no isle lies near it.
In his tales that aged man named himself the Man of the Sea,
and he spoke of his last voyage ere he was cast in wreck upon
this outer isle, telling how ere the West wind took him he had
glimpsed afar off bosomed in the deep the twinkling lanterns of
the Lonely Isle. Then did AElfwine's heart leap within him, but
he said to that aged one that he might not hope to get him a
brave ship or comrades more. But that Man of the Sea said'. 'Lo,
this is one of the ring of Harbourless Isles that draw all ships
towards their hidden rocks and quaking sands, lest Men fare
over far upon Garsecg and see things that are not for them to
see. And these isles were set here at the Hiding of Valinor, and
little wood for ship or raft does there grow on them, as may be
thought;~ but I may aid thee yet in thy desire to depart from
these greedy shores.'
Thereafter on a day AElfwine fared along the eastward strands
gazing at the many unhappy wrecks there lying. He sought, as
often he had done before, if he might see perchance any sign or
relic of his good ship from Belerion. There had been that night a
storm of great violence and dread, and lo! the number of wrecks
was increased by one, and AElfwine saw it had been a large and
well-built ship of cunning lines such as the Forodwaith then
loved. Cast far up on the treacherous sands it stood, and its
great beak carven as a dragon's head still glared unbroken at the
land. Then went the Man of the Sea out when the tide began to
creep in slow and shallow over the long flats. He bore as a staff a
timber great as a young tree, and he fared as if he had no need to
fear tide or quicksand until he came far out where his shoulders
were scarce above the yellow waters of the incoming flood to
that carven prow, that now alone was seen above the water.
Then AElfwine marvelled watching from afar, to see him heave
by his single strength the whole great ship up from the clutches
of the sucking sand that gripped its sunken stern; and when it
floated he thrust it before him, swimming now with mighty
strokes in the deepening water. At that sight AElfwine's fear of
the aged one was renewed, and he wondered what manner of
being he might be; but now the ship was thrust far up on the
firmer sands, and the swimmer strode ashore, and his mighty
beard was full of strands of sea-weed,,and sea-weed was in his
hair.

When that tide again forsook the Hungry Sands the Man of
the Sea bade AElfwine go look at that new-come wreck, and
going he saw it was not hurt; but there were within nine dead
men who had not long ago been yet alive. They lay abottom
gazing at the sky, and behold, one whose garb and mien still
proclaimed a chieftain of Men lay there, but though his locks
were white with age and his face was pale in death, still a proud
man and a fierce he looked. 'Men of the North, Forodwaith, are
they,' said the Man of the Sea, 'but hunger and thirst was their
death, and their ship was flung by last night's storm where she
stuck in the Hungry Sands, slowly to be engulfed, had not fate
thought otherwise.'
'Truly do you say of them, 0 Man of the Sea; and him I know
well with those white locks, for he slew my father; and long was
I his thrall, and Orm men called him, and little did I love him.'
'And his ship shall it be that bears you from this Harbourless
Isle,' said he; 'and a gallant ship it was of a brave man, for few
folk have now so great a heart for the adventures of the sea as
have these Forodwaith, who press ever into the mists of the
West, though few live to take back tale of all they see.'
Thus it was that AElfwine escaped beyond hope from that,
island, but the Man of the Sea was his pilot and steersman, and
so they came after few days to a land but little known.~ And the
folk that dwell there are a strange folk, and none know how they
came thither in the West, yet are they accounted among the
kindreds of Men, albeit their land is on the outer borders of the
regions of Mankind, lying yet further toward the Setting Sun
beyond the Harbourless Isles and further to the North than is
that isle whereon AElfwine was cast away. Marvellously skilled
are these people in the building of ships and boats of every kind
and in the sailing of them; yet do they fare seldom or never to
the lands of other folk, and little do they busy themselves with
commerce or with war. Their ships they build for love of that
labour and for the joy they have only to ride the waves in them.
And a great part of that people are ever aboard their ships, and
all the water about the island of their home is ever white with
their sails in calm or storm. Their delight is to vie in rivalry with
one another with their boats of surpassing swiftness, driven by
the winds or by the ranks of their long-shafted oars. Other
rivalries have,they with ships of great seaworthiness, for with
these will they contest who will weather the fiercest storms (and
these are fierce indeed about that isle, and it is iron-coasted save



for one cool harbour in the North). Thereby is the craft of their
shipwrights proven; and these people are called by Men the
Ythlings,~ the Children of the Waves, but the Elves call the
island Eneadur, and its folk the Shipmen of the West.>
Well did these receive AElfwine and his pilot at the thronging
quays of their harbour in the North, and it seemed to AElfwine
that the Man of the Sea was not unknown to them, and that they
held him in the greatest awe and reverence, hearkening to his
requests as though they were a king's commands. Yet greater
was his amaze when he met amid the throngs of that place two of
his comrades that he had thought lost in the sea; and learnt that
those seven mariners of England were alive in that land, but the
ship had been broken utterly on the black shores to the south,
not long after the night when the great sea had taken AElfwine
overboard.
Now at the bidding of the Man of the Sea do those islanders
with great speed fashion a new ship for AElfwine and his fellows,
since he would fare no further in Orm's ship; and its timbers
were cut, as the ancient sailor had asked, from a grove of magic
oaks far inland that grew about a high place of the Gods, sacred
to Ulmo Lord of the Sea, and seldom were any of them felled.
'A ship that is wrought of this wood,' said the Man of the Sea,
'may be lost, but those that sail in it shall not in that voyage lose
their lives; yet may they perhaps be cast where they little think
to come.'
But when that ship was made ready that ancient sailor bid
them climb aboard, and this they did, but with them went also
Bior of the Ythlings, a man of mighty sea-craft for their aid, and
one who above any of that strange folk was minded to sail at
times far from the land of Eneadur to West or North or South.
There stood many men of the Ythlings upon the shore beside
that vessel; for they had builded her in a cove of the steep
shore that looked to the West, and a bar of rock with but a
narrow opening made here a sheltered pool and mooring place,
and few like it were to be found in that island of sheer cliffs.
Then the ancient one laid his hand upon her prow and spoke
words of magic, giving her power to cleave uncloven waters and
enter unentered harbours, and ride untrodden beaches. Twin
rudder-paddies, one on either side, had she after the fashion of
the Ythlings, and each of these he blessed, giving them skill to
steer when the hands that held them failed, and to find lost
courses, and to follow stars that were hid. Then he strode away,
and the press of men parted before him, until climbing he came
to a high pinnacle of the cliffs. Then leapt he far out and down
and vanished with a mighty flurry of foam where the great
breakers gathered to assault the towering shores.
AElfwine saw him no more, and he said in grief and amaze:
'Why was he thus weary of life? My heart grieves that he is
dead,' but the Ythlings smiled, so that he questioned some that
stood nigh, saying: 'Who was that mighty man, for meseems ye
know him well,' and they answered him nothing. Then thrust
they forth that vessel valiant-timbered" out into the sea, for no
longer would AElfwine abide, though the sun was sinking to the
Mountains of Valinor beyond the Western Walls. Soon was her
white sail seen far away filled with a wind from off the land, and
red-stained in the light of the half-sunken sun;.and those aboard
her sang old songs of the English folk that faded on the sailless
waves of the Western Seas', and now no longer came any sound
of them to the watchers on the shore. Then night shut down and
none on Eneadur saw that strong ship ever more.~
So began those mariners that long and strange and perilous
voyage whose full tale has never yet been told. Nought of their
adventures in the archipelagoes of the West, and the wonders
and the dangers that they found in the Magic Isles and in seas
and sound unknown, are here to tell, but of the ending of their
voyage, how after a time of years sea-weary and sick of heart
they found a grey and cheerless day. Little wind was there, and
the clouds hung low overhead; while a grey rain fell, and nought
could any of them descry before their vessel's beak that moved
now slow and uncertain over the long dead waves. That day had
they trysted to be the last ere they turned their vessel homeward
(if they might), save only if some wonder should betide or any
sign of hope. For their heart was gone. Behind them lay the
Magic Isles where three of their number slept upon dim strands
in deadly sleep, and their heads were pillowed on white sand
and they were clad in foam, wrapped about in the agelong spells
of Eglavain. Fruitless had been all their journeys since, for ever
the winds had cast them back without sight of the shores of the
Island of the Elves.~ Then said AlEfheah'4 who held the helm:
'Now, 0 AElfwine, is the trysted time! Let us do as the Gods and
their winds have long desired -- cease from our heart-weary
quest for nothingness, a fable in the void, and get us back if the
Gods will it seeking the hearths of our home.' And AElfwine

yielded. Then fell the wind and no breath came from East or
West, and night came slowly over the sea.
Behold, at length a gentle breeze sprang up, and it came
softly from the West; and even as they would fill their sails
therewith for home, one of those shipmen on a sudden said:
'Nay, but this is a strange air, and full of scented memories,' and
standing still they all breathed deep. The mists gave before that
gentle wind, and a thin moon they might see riding in its
tattered shreds, until behind it soon a thousand cool stars
peered forth in the dark. 'The night-flowers are opening in
Faery,' said AElfwine; 'and behold,' said Bior," 'the Elves are
kindling candles in their silver dusk,' and all looked whither his
long hand pointed over their dark stern. Then none spoke for
wonder and amaze, seeing deep in the gloaming of the West a
blue shadow, and in the blue shadow many glittering lights, and
ever more and more of them came twinkling out, until ten
thousand points of flickering radiance were splintered far away
as if a dust of the jewels self-luminous that Feanor made were
scattered on the lap of the Ocean.
'Then is that the Harbour of the Lights of Many Hues,' said
AElfheah, 'that many a little-heeded tale has told of in our
homes.' Then saying no more they shot out their oars and
swung about their ship in haste, and pulled towards the never-
dying shore. Near had they come to abandoning it when hardly
won. Little did they make of that long pull, as they thrust the
water strongly by them, and the long night of Faerie held on,
and the horned moon of Elfinesse rode over them.
Then came there music very gently over the waters and it was
laden with unimagined longing, that AElfwine and his comrades
leant upon their oars and wept softly each for his heart's half-
remembered hurts, and memory of fair things long lost, and
each for the thirst that is in every child of Men for the flawless
loveliness they seek and do not find. And one said: 'It is the
harps that are thrumming, and the songs they are singing of fair
things; and the windows that look upon the sea are full of light.'
And another said: 'Their stringed violins complain the ancient
woes of the immortal folk of Earth, but there is a joy therein.'
'Ah me,' said AElfwine, 'I hear the horns of the Fairies shimmer-
ing in magic woods -- such music as I once dimly guessed long
years ago beneath the elms of Mindon Gwar.'
And lo! as they spoke thus musing the moon hid himself, and
the stars were clouded, and the mists of time veiled the shore,

and nothing could they see and nought more hear, save the
sound of the surf of the seas in the far-off pebbles of the Lonely
Isle; and soon the wind blew even that faint rustle far away. But
AElfwine stood forward with wide-open eyes unspeaking, and
suddenly with a great cry he sprang forward into the dark sea,
and the waters that filled him were warm, and a kindly death it
seemed enveloped him. Then it seemed to the others that they
awakened at his voice as from a dream; but the wind now
suddenly grown fierce filled all their sails, and they saw him
never again, but were driven back with hearts all broken with
regret and longing. Pale elfin boats awhile they would see
beating home, maybe, to the Haven of Many Hues, and they
hailed them; but only faint echoes afar off were borne to their
ears, and none led them ever to the land of their desire; who
after a great time wound back all the mazy. clue of their long
tangled ways, until they cast anchor at last in the haven of
Belerion, aged and wayworn men. And the things they had seen
and heard seemed after to them a mirage, and a phantasy, born
of hunger and sea-spells, save only to Bior of Eneadur of the
Ship-folk of the West.
Yet among the seed of these men has there been many a
restless and wistful spirit thereafter, since they were dead and
passed beyond the Rim of Earth without need of boat or sail.
But never while life lasted did they leave their sea-faring, and
their bodies are all covered by the sea.~
The narrative ends here. There is no trace of any further continuation,
though it seems likely that AElfwine of England was to be the beginning
of a complete rewriting of the Lost Tales. It would be interesting to
know for certain when AElfwine II was written. The handwriting of the
manuscript is certainly changed from that of the rest of the Last Tales;
yet I am inclined to think that it followed AElfwine I at no great interval,
and the first version is unlikely to be much later than 1920 (see p. 3I2).
At the end of AElfwine II my father jotted down two suggestions: (1)
that AElfwine should be made 'an early pagan Englishman who fled to
the West'; and (2) that 'the Isle of the Old Man' should be cut out and
all should be shipwrecked on Eneadur, the Isle of the Ythlings. The
latter would (astonishingly) have entailed the abandonment of the
foundered ship, with the Man of the Sea thrusting it to shore on the
incoming tide, and the dead Vikings 'lying abottom gazing at the sky'.
In this narrative -- in which the 'magic' of the early Elves is most
intensely conveyed, in the seamen's vision of the Lonely Isle beneath

'the horned moon of Elfinesse' -- AElfwine is still placed in the context
of the figures of ancient English legend: his father is Deor the Minstrel.
In the great Anglo-Saxon manuscript known as the Exeter Book there is a
little poem of 42 lines to which the title of Deor is now given. It is an
utterance of the minstrel Deor, who, as he tells, has lost his place and
been supplanted in his lord's favour by another bard, named Heorrenda;
in the body of the poem Deor draws examples from among the great
misfortunes recounted in the heroic legends, and is comforted by them,
concluding each allusion with the fixed refrain paes ofereode; pisses
swa maeg, which has been variously translated; my father held that
it meant 'Time has passed since then, this too can pass'.~
From this poem came both Deor and Heorrenda. In 'the Eriol story'
Heorrenda was Eriol's son born in Tol Eressea of his wife Naimi (p. 290),
and was associated with Hengest and Horsa in the conquest of the Lonely
Isle (p. 291); his dwelling in England was at Tavrobel (p. 292). I do not
think that my father's Deor the Minstrel of Kortirion and Heorrenda of
Tavrobel can be linked more closely to the Anglo-Saxon poem than in the
names alone -- though he did not take the names at random. He was
moved by the glimpsed tale (even if, in the words of one of the poem's
editors, 'the autobiographical element is purely fictitious, serving only as
a pretext for the enumeration of the heroic stories'); and when lecturing
on Beowulf at Oxford he sometimes gave the unknown poet a name,
calling him Heorrenda.
Nor, as I believe, can any more be made of the other Old English
names in the narrative: Oswine prince of Gwar, Eadgifu, AElfheah
(though the names are doubtless in themselves 'significant'. thus Oswine
contains os 'god' and wine 'friend', and Eadgifu ead 'blessedness' and
gifu 'gift'). The Forodwaith are of course Viking invaders from Norway
or Denmark; the name Orm of the dead ship's captain is well-known in
Norse. But all this is a mise-en-scene that is historical only in its bearings,
not in its structure.
The idea of the seven invasions of Luthien (Luthany) remained
(p. 314), and that of the fading and westward flight of the Elves (which
indeed was never finally lost),~ but whereas in the outlines the invasion
of the Ingwaiwar (i.e. the Anglo-Saxons) was the seventh (see citations
(20) and (22)), here the Viking invasions are portrayed as coming upon
the English -- 'nor was that the last of the takings of Luthien by Men from
Men' (p. 314), obviously a reference to the Normans.
There is much of interest in the 'geographical' references in the story.
At the very beginning there is a curious statement about the breaking off
of Ireland 'in the warfare of the Gods'. Seeing that 'the AElfwine story'
does not include the idea of the drawing back of Tol Eressea eastwards
across the sea, this must refer to something quite other than the story
in (5), p. 283, where the Isle of fverin was broken off when Osse tried
to wrench back Tol Eressea. What this was I do not know; but it seems

conceivable that this is the first trace or hint of the great cataclysm at the
end of the Elder Days, when Beleriand was drowned. (I have found no
trace of any connection between the harbour of Belerion and the region
of Beleriand.)
Kortirion (Mindon Gwar) is in this tale of course 'Kortirion the Old',
the original Elvish dwelling in Luthien, after which Kortirion in Tol
Eressea was named (see pp. 308, 310); in the same way we must suppose
that the name Alalminore (p. 3I3) for the region about it ('Warwick-
shire') was given anew to the midmost region of Tol Eressea.
Turning to the question of the islands and archipelagoes in the Great
Sea, what is said in AElfwine of England may first be compared with
the passages of geographical description in The Coming of the Valar
(1.68) and The Coming of the Elves (I. 125), which are closely similar
the one to the other. From these passages we learn that there are many
lands and islands in the Great Sea before the Magic Isles are reached;
beyond the Magic Isles is Tol Eressea; and beyond Tol Eressea are the
Shadowy Seas, 'whereon there float the Twilit Isles', the first of the
Outer Lands. Tol Eressea itself 'is held neither of the Outer Lands or of
the Great Lands' (I. 125); it is far out in mid-ocean, and 'no land may be
seen for many leagues' sail from its cliffs' (I.121). With this account
AElfwine of England agrees closely; but to it is added now the archi-
pelago of the Harbourless Isles.
As I have noted before (I. 137), this progression from East to West of
Harbourless Isles, Magic Isles, the Lonely Isle, and then the Shadowy
Seas in which were the Twilit Isles, was afterwards changed, and it is
said in The Silmarillion (p. 102) that at the time of the Hiding of Valinor
the Enchanted Isles were set, and all the seas about them were filled
with shadows and bewilderment. And these isles were strung as a net
in the Shadowy Seas from the north to the south, before Tol Eressea,
the Lonely Isle, is reached by one sailing west. Hardly might any
vessel pass between them, for in the dangerous sounds the waves
sighed for ever upon dark rocks shrouded in mist. And in the twilight a
great weariness came upon mariners and a loathing of the sea; but all
that ever set foot upon the islands were there entrapped, and slept until
the Change of the World.
As a conception, the Enchanted Isles are derived primarily from the old
Magic Isles, set at the time of the Hiding of Valinor and described in that
Tale (I. 211): 'Osse set them in a great ring about the western limits of
the mighty sea, so that they guarded the Bay of Faery', and
all such as stepped thereon came never thence again, but being woven
in the nets of Oinen's hair the Lady of the Sea, and whelmed in agelong
slumber that Lorien set there, lay upon the margin of the waves, as
those do who being drowned are cast up once more by the movements

of the sea; yet rather did these hapless ones sleep unfathomably and
the dark waters laved their limbs...
Here three of AElfwine's companions
slept upon dim strands in deadly sleep, and their heads were pillowed
on white sand and they were clad in foam, wrapped about in the
agelong spells of Eglavain (p. 320).
(I do not know the meaning of the name Eglavain, but since it clearly
contains Egla (Gnomish, = Elda, see I.251) it perhaps meant
'Elfinesse'.) But the Enchanted Isles derive also perhaps from the Twilit
Isles, since the Enchanted Isles were likewise in twilight and were set in
the Shadowy Seas (cf. I. 224); and from the Harbourless Isles as well,
which, as AElfwine was told by the Man of the Sea (p. 3 I 7), were set at the
time of the Hiding of Valinor -- and indeed served the same purpose as
did the Magic Isles, though lying far further to the East.
Eneadur, the isle of the Ythlings (Old English jd 'wave'), whose life
is so fully described in AEflwine of England, seems never to have been
mentioned again. Is there in Eneadur and the Shipmen of the West
perhaps some faint foreshadowing of the early Numenoreans in their
cliff-girt isle ?
The following passage (pp. 316 -- 17) is not easy to interpret:
Thence [i.e. from the Bay of Faery] slopes the world steeply beyond
the Rim of Things to Valinor, that is God-home, and to the Wall and
to the edge of Nothingness whereon are sown the stars.
In the Ambarkanta or 'Shape of the World' of the 1930s a map of the
world shows the surface of the Outer Land sloping steeply westwards
from the Mountains of Valinor. Conceivably it is to this slope that my
father was referring here, and the Rim of Things is the great mountain-
wall; but this seems very improbable. There are also references in
AElfwine of England to 'the Rim of Earth', beyond which the dead pass
(pp. 314, 322); and in an outline for the Tale of Earendel (p. 260)
Tuor's boat 'dips over the world's rim'. More likely, I think, the
expression refers to the rim of the horizon ('the horizon of Men's
knowledge', p. 313).
The expression 'the sun was sinking to the Mountains of Valinor
beyond the Western Walls' (p. 320) I am at a loss to explain according to
what has been told in the Lost Tales. A possible, though scarcely
convincing, interpretation is that the sun was sinking towards Valinor,
whence it mould pass 'beyond the Western Walls' (i.e. through the
Door of Night, see I. 215 -- 16).
Lastly, the suggestion (p. 313) is notable that the Elves sailing west

from Luthien might go beyond the Lonely Isle and reach even back to
Valinor; on this matter see p. 280
Before ending, there remains to discuss briefly a matter of a general
nature that has many times been mentioned in the texts, and especially in
these last chapters: that of the 'diminutiveness' of the Elves.
It is said several times in the last Tales that the Elves of the ancient
days were of greater bodily stature than they afterwards became. Thus in
?he Fall of Condolin (p. 159): 'The fathers of the fathers of Men were
of less stature than Men now are, and the children of Elfinesse of greater
growth'; in an outline for the abandoned tale of Gilfanon (I. 235) very
similarly: 'Men were almost of a stature at first with Elves, the fairies
being far greater and Men smaller than now'; and in citation (4) in the
present chapter: 'Men and Elves were formerly of a size, though Men
always larger.' Other passages suggest that the ancient Elves were of their
nature of at any rate somewhat slighter build (see pp. 142, 220).
The diminishing in the stature of the Elves of later times is very
explicitly related to the coming of Men. Thus in (4) above: 'Men spread
and thrive, and the Elves of the Great Lands fade. As Men's stature
grows theirs diminishes -, and in (5): ever as Men wax more powerful
and numerous so the fairies fade and grow small and tenuous, filmy and
transparent, but Men larger and more dense and gross. At last Men, or
almost all, can no longer see the fairies.' The clearest picture that
survives of the Elves when they have 'faded' altogether is given in the
Epilogue (p. 289):
Like strands of wind, like mystic half-transparencies, Gilfanon Lord
of Tavrobel rides out tonight amid his folk, and hunts the elfin deer
beneath the paling sky. A music of forgotten feet, a gleam of leaves, a
sudden bending of the grass, and wistful voices murmuring on the
bridge, and they are gone.
But according to the passages bearing on the later 'AElfwine' version,
the Elves of Tol Eressea who had left Luthany were unfaded, or had
ceased to fade. Thus in (15): Tol Eressea, whither most of the unfaded
Elves have retired from the noise, war, and clamour of Men'; and (16):
'Tol Eressea, whither most of the fading Elves have withdrawn from
the world, and there fade now no more'; also in AElfwine of England
(p. 3I3): 'the unfaded Elves beyond the waters of Garsecg'.
On the other hand, when Eriol came to the Cottage of Lost Play the
doorward said to him (I. 14):
Small is the dwelling, but smaller still are they that dwell here -- for
all who enter must be very small indeed, or of their own good wish
become as very little folk even as they stand upon the threshold.
I have commented earlier (I. 32) on the oddity of the idea that the
Cottage and its inhabitants were peculiarly small, in an island entirely
inhabited by Elves. But my father, if he had ever rewritten The Cottage
of Lost Play, would doubtless have abandoned this; and it may well
be that he was in any case turning away already at the time of AElfwine II
from the idea that the 'faded' Elves were diminutive, as is suggested by
his rejection of the word 'little' in 'little folk', 'little ships' (see note 27).
Ultimately, of course, the Elves shed all associations and qualities that
would be now commonly considered 'fairylike', and those who remained
in the Great Lands in Ages of the world at this time unconceived were to
grow greatly in stature and in power: there was nothing filmy or trans-
parent about the heroic or majestic Eldar of the Third Age of Middle-
earth. Long afterwards my father would write, in a wrathful comment on
a 'pretty' or 'ladylike' pictorial rendering of Legolas:
He was tall as a young tree, lithe, immensely strong, able swiftly to
draw a great war-bow and shoot down a Nazgul, endowed with the
tremendous vitality of Elvish bodies, so hard and resistant to hurt that
he went only in light shoes over rock or through snow, the most tireless
of all the Fellowship.
This brings to an end my rendering and analysis of the early writings
bearing on the story of the mariner who came to the Lonely Isle and
learned there the true history of the Elves. I have shown, convincingly as
I hope, the curious and complex way in which my father's vision of the
significance of Tol Eressea changed. When he jotted down the synopsis
(10), the idea of the mariner's voyage to the Island of the Elves was of
course already present; but he journeyed out of the East and the Lonely
Isle of his seeking was -- England (though not yet the land of the English
and not yet lying in the seas where England lies). When later the entire
concept was shifted, England, as 'Luthany' or 'Luthien', remained pre-
eminently the Elvish land; and Tol Eressea, with its meads and coppices,
its rooks' nests in the elm-trees of Alalminore, seemed to the English
mariner to be remade in the likeness of his own land, which the Elves had
lost at the coming of Men: for it was indeed a re-embodiment of Elvish
Luthany far over the sea.
All this was to fall away afterwards from the developing mythology;
but AElfwine left many marks on its pages before he too finally
disappeared.
Much in this chapter is necessarily inconclusive and uncertain; but I
believe that these very early notes and projections are rightly disinterred.
Although, as 'plots', abandoned and doubtless forgotten, they bear
witness to truths of my father's heart and mind that he never abandoned.
But these notes were scribbled down in his youth, when for him Elvish

magic 'lingered yet mightily in the woods and hills of Luthany', in his old
age all was gone West-over-sea, and an end was indeed come for the Eldar
of story and of song.
NOTES.
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
12
13
14
On this statement about the stature of Elves and Men see pp. 326 -- 7.2
For the form Taimonto (Taimondo) see I. 268, entry Telimektar.
Belaurin is the Gnomish equivalent of Palurien (see I. 264).
A side-note here suggests that perhaps the Pine should not be in Tol
Eressea. -- For Ilwe, the middle air, that is 'blue and clear and flows
among the stars', see I. 65, 73.
Gil = Ingil. At the first occurrence of Ingil in this passage the name
was written Ingil (Gil), but (Gil) was struck out.
The word. Nautar occurs in a rejected outline for the Tale of
the Nauglafring (p. 136), where it is equated with Nauglath
(Dwarves) .
Uin: 'the mightiest and most ancient of whales', chief among those
whales and fishes that drew the 'island-car' (afterwards Tol Eressea)
on which Ulmo ferried the Elves to Valinor (I. 118 -- 20).
Gongs: these are evil beings obscurely related to Orcs: see I. 245
note 10, and the rejected outlines for the Tale of the Nauglafring
given on pp. 136 -- 7.
A large query is written against this passage.
The likeness of this name to Dor Daedeloth is striking, but that is
the name of the realm of Morgoth in The Silmarillion, and is
interpreted 'Land of the Shadow of Horror'; the old name (whose
elements are dai 'sky' and teloth 'roof') has nothing in common
with the later except its form.
Cf. Kortirion among the Trees (I. 34, 37, 41): A wave of bow-
ing grass.
The origin of Warwick according to conventional etymology is
uncertain. The element wic, extremely common in English place-
names, meant essentially a dwelling or group of dwellings. The
earliest recorded form of the name is Waering wic, and Waving
has been thought to be an Old English word meaning a dam, a
derivative from wer, Modern English weir: thus 'dwellings by
the weir'.
Cf. the title-page given in citation (II): Heorrenda of Haegwudu.
-- No forms of the name of this Staffordshire village are actually
recorded from before the Norman Conquest, but the Old English
form was undoubtedly hag-wudu 'enclosed wood' (cf. the High
Hay, the great hedge that protected Buckland from the Old Forest
in The Lord of the Rings).
The name Luthany, of a country, occurs five times in Francis
Thompson's poem The Mistress of Vision. As noted previously
(I. 29) my father acquired the Collected Poems of Francis Thompson
in 1913 -- 14; and in that copy he made a marginal note against one of
the verses that contains the name Luthany -- though the note is not
concerned with the name. But whence Thompson derived Luthany
I have no idea. He himself described the poem as'afantasy'(Everard
Meynell, The Life ofFrancis Thompson, 1913, p. 237).
This provides no more than the origin of the name as a series of
sounds, as with Kor from Rider Haggard's She, * or Rohan and
Moria mentioned in my father's letter of 1967on this subject (The
Letters of j R. R. Tolkien, pp. 383 -- 4), in which he said:
This leads to the matter of 'external history': the actual way in
which I came to light on or choose certain sequences of sound to
use as names, before they were given a place inside the story. I
think, as I said, this is unimportant: the labour involved in my
setting out what I know and remember of the process, or in the
guess-work of others, would be far greater than the worth of the
results. The spoken forms would simply be mere audible forms,
and when transferred to the prepared linguistic situation in my
story would receive meaning and significance according to that
situation, and to the nature of the story told. It would be entirely
delusory to refer to the sources of the sound-combination to
discover any meanings overt or hidden.
15
16
17
18
19
20
The position is complicated by the existence of some narrative
outlines of extreme roughness and near-illegibility in which the
mariner is named AElfwine and yet essential elements of 'the Eriol
story' are present. These I take to represent an intermediate stage.
They are very obscure, and would require a great deal of space to
present and discuss; therefore I pass them by.
Cf. p; 264 (xiv).
Caer Gwar: see p. 292.
It may be mentioned here that when my father read The Fall of
Condolin to the Exeter College Essay Club in the spring of 1920 the
mariner was still Eriol, as appears from the notes for his preliminary
remarks on that occasion (see Unfinished Tales p. 5). He said here,
very strangely, that 'Eriol lights by accident on the Lonely Island'.
Garsecg (pronounced Garsedge, and so written in AElfwine A)
was one of the many Old English names of the sea.
In AElfwine I the land is likewise named Luthien, not Luthany. In
AElfwine A, on the other hand, the same distinction is made as in
the outlines: 'AElfwine of England (whom the fairies after named
(* There is no external evidence for this, but it can hardly bc doubted. In this
case it
eight bc thought that since the African Kor was a city built on the top of a great
mountain
standing in isolation the relationship was more than purely 'phonetic'.)

2I
Luthien (friend) of Luthany (friendship)).' -- At this first occur-
rence (only) of Luthien in AElfwine II the form Leithian is
pencilled above, but Luthien is not struck out. The Lay of Leithian
was afterwards the title of the long poem of Beren and Luthien
Tinuviel.
The Hill of Tun, i.e. the hill on which the city of Tun was built: see
p. 292.
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
Mindon Gwar: see p. 291.
Eadgifu: in 'the Eriol story' this Old English name (see p. 323) was
given as an equivalent to Naimi, Eriol's wife whom he wedded in
Tol Eressea (p. 290).
In AElfwine I the text here reads: 'by reason of her beauty and
goodliness, even as that king of the Franks that was upon a time
most mighty among men hath said...' [sic]. In AElfwine Il the
manuscript in ink stops at 'high white shores', but after these words
my father pencilled in: 'even as that king of the Franks that was
in those days the mightiest of earthly kings hath said...' [sic]. The
only clue in AElfwine of England to the period of AElfwine's life is
the invasion of the Forodwaith (Vikings); the mighty king of the
Franks may therefore be Charlemagne,' but I have been unable
to trace any such reference.
Evil is emended from Melko. AElfwine I does not have the phrase.
AElfwine I has: 'when the ancient Men of the South from
Micelgeard the Heartless Town set their mighty feet upon the soil
of Luthien.' This text does not have the reference to Rum and
Magbar. The name Micelgeard is struck through, but Mickleyard
is written at the head of the page. Micelgeard is Old English (and
Mickleyard a modernisation of this in spelling), though it does
not occur in extant Old English writings and is modelled on Old
Norse Mikligaror (Constantinople). -- The peculiar hostility of
the Romans to the Elves of Luthany is mentioned by implication in
citation (20), and their disbelief in their existence in (22).
The application, frequent in AElwine I, of 'little' to the fairies
(Elves) of Luthien and their ships was retained in AElfwine II as
first written, but afterwards struck out. Here the word is twice
retained, perhaps unintentionally.
Elvish is a later emendation of fairy.
This sentence, from 'save AElfheah...', was added later in
AElfwine Il; it is not in AElfwine 1. -- The whole text to this point
in AElfwine I and II is compressed into the following in AElfwine A:,
AElfwine of England (whom the fairies after named Luthien
(friend) of Luthany (friendship)) born of Deor and Eadgifu.
Their city burned and Deor slain and Eadgifu dies. AElfwine a
thrall of the Winged Helms. He escapes to the Western Sea
and takes ship from Belerion and makes great voyages. He is

seeking for the islands of the West of which Eadgifu had told him
in his childhood.
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
AElfwine I has here: 'But three men could he find as his com-
panions; and Osse took them unto him.' Osse was emended to
Neorth; and then the sentence was struck through and rewritten:
'Such found he only three; and those three Neorth after took unto
him and their names are not known.' Neorth = Ulmo; see note 39.
AElfwine A reads: 'He espies some islands lying in the dawn but
is swept thence by great winds. He returns hardly to Belerion. He
gathers the seven greatest mariners of England; they sail in spring.
They are wrecked upon the isles of AElfwine's desire and find
them desert and lonely and filled with gloomy whispering
trees.' This is at variance with AElfwine I and II where AElfwine
is cast on to the island alone; but agrees with II in giving AElfwine
seven companions, not three.
A clue that this was Ulmo: cf. The Fall of Gondolin (p. 155): he
was shod with mighty shoes of stone.'
In AElfwine A they were 'filled with gloomy whispering trees'
(note 31).
From the point where the Man of the Sea said: 'Lo, this is one of the
ring of Harbourless Isles...' (p. 317) to here (i.e. the whole episode
of the foundered Viking ship and its captain Orm, slayer of
AElfwine's father) there is nothing corresponding in AElfwine I,
which has only: 'but that Man of the Sea aided him in building a
little craft, and together, guided by the solitary mariner, they fared
away and came to a land but little known.' For the narrative in
AElfwine A see note 39.
At one occurrence of the name Ythlings (Old English yd 'wave')
in AElfwine I it is written Ythlingas, with the Old English plural
ending.
The Shipmen of the West: emendation from Eneathrim.
Cf. in the passage of alliterative verse in my father's On Translating
Beowulf (The Monsters and the Critics and Other Essays, 1983,
p. 63): then away thrust her to voyage gladly valiant-timbered.
The whole section of the narrative concerning the island of the
Ythlings is more briefly told in AElfwine I (though, so far as it goes,
in very much the same words) with several features of the later story
absent (notably the cutting of timber in the grove sacred to Ulmo,
and the blessing of the ship by the Man of the Sea). The only actual
difference of structure, however, is that whereas in AElfwine II
AElfwine finds again his seven companions in the land of the
Ythlings, and sails west with them, together with -Bior of the
Ythlings, in AElfwine I they were indeed drowned, and he got seven
companions from among the Ythlings (among whom Bior is not
named).

The plot-outline AElfwine A tells the story from the point where
AElfwine and his seven companions were cast on the Isle of the Man
of the Sea (thus differing from AElfwine I and II, where he came
there alone) thus:
They wander about the island upon which they have been cast
and come upon many decaying wrecks -- often of mighty ships,
some treasure-laden. They find a solitary cabin beside a lonely
sea, built of old ship-wood, where dwells a solitary and strange
old mariner of dread aspect. He tells them these are the Harbour-
less Isles whose enchanted rocks draw all ships thither, lest men
fare over far upon Garsedge [see note l9] -- and they were
devised at the Hiding of Valinor. Here, he says, the trees are
magical. They learn many strange things about the western world
of him and their desire is whetted for adventure. He aids them to
cut holy trees in the island groves and to build a wonderful
vessel, and shows them how to provision it against a long voyage
(that water that drieth not save when heart fails, &c.). This he
blesses with a spell of adventure and discovery, and then dives
from a cliff-top. They suspect it was Neorth Lord of Waters.
They journey many years among strange western islands hear-
ing often many strange reports -- of the belt of Magic Isles which
few have passed; of the trackless sea beyond where the wind
bloweth almost always from the West; of the edge of the twilight
and the far-glimpsed isle there standing, and its glimmering
haven. They reach the magic island [read islands?] and three
are enchanted and fall asleep on the shore.
The others beat about the waters beyond and are in despair --
for as often as they make headway west the wind changes and
bears them back. At last they tryst to return on the morrow if
nought other happens. The day breaks chill and dull, and they
lie becalmed looking in vain through the pouring rain.
This narrative differs from both AElfwine I and II in that here
there is no mention of the Ythlings; and AElfwine and his seven
companions depart on their long western voyage from the Harbour-
less Isle of the ancient mariner. It agrees with AElfwine I in the
name Neorth; but it foreshadows II in the cutting of sacred trees
to build a ship.40.
In AElfwine I AElfheah does not appear, and his two speeches in
this passage are there given to one Gelimer. Gelimer (Geilamir) was
the name of a king of the Vandals in the sixth century.41.
In AElfwine I Bior's speech is given to Gelimer (see note 40).42.
AElfine I ends in almost the same words as AElfwine II, but with a
most extraordinary difference; AElfwine does not leap overboard,
but returns with his companions to Belerion, and so never comes to

Tol Eressea! 'Very empty thereafter were the places of Men for
AElfwine and his mariners, and of their seed have been many
restless and wistful folk since they were dead...' Moreover my
father seems clearly to have been going to say the same in AElfwine
II, but stopped, struck out what he had written, and introduced the
sentence in which AElfwine leapt into the sea. I cannot see any way
to explain this.
AElfwine A ends in much the same way as AElfwine II:
As night comes on a little breath springs up and the clouds lift.
They hoist sail to return -- when suddenly low down in the dusk
they see the many lights of the Haven of Many Hues twinkle
forth. They row thither, and hear sweet music. Then the mist
wraps all away and the others rousing themselves say it is a mirage
born of hunger, and with heavy hearts prepare to go back, but
AElfwine plunges overboard and swims into the dark until he is
overcome in the waters, and him seems death envelops him. The
others sail away home and are out of the tale.
43 Literally, as he maintained: 'From that (grief) one moved on; from
this in the same way one can move on.'
There are long roots beneath the words of The Fellowship of the
Ring (I. z): 'Elves... could now be seen passing westward through
the moods in the evening, passing and not returning; but they
were leaving Middle-earth and were no longer concerned with its
troubles.' '"That isn't anything new, if you believe the old tales,"'
said Ted Sandyman, when Sam Gamgee spoke of the matter.
I append here a synopsis of the structural differences between the
three versions of AElfwine of England.
A
AE. sails from Belerion
and sees 'islands in the
dawn'.
AE. sails again with 7
mariners of England.
They are shipwrecked
on the isle of the Man of
the Sea but all survive.
The Man of the Sea
helps them to build a
ship but does not go
with them.
1
As in A
AE. has only 3
companions, and he
alone survives the
shipwreck.
The Man of the Sea
helps AE. to build a boat
and goes with him..
As in A, but his
companion AElfheah is
named.
AE. has 7 companions,
and is alone on the isle
of the Man of the Sea,
believing them
drowned.
AE. and the Man of the
Sea find a stranded
Viking ship and sail
away in it together.

A.
The Man of the Sea
dives into the sea from a
cliff-top of his isle.
On their voyages 3 of
AE.'s companions are
enchanted in the
Magic Isles.
They are blown away
from Tol Eressea after
sighting it; AE. leaps
overboard, and the
others return home.

They come to the Isle of
the Ythlings. The Man
of the Sea dives from a
cliff-top. AE. gets 7
companions from the
Ythlings.
As in A, but in this case
they are Ythlings.
They are blown away
from Tol Eressea, and
all, including AE., return
home.

As in I, but AE. finds his
7 companions from
England, who were not
drowned; to them is
added Bior of the
Ythlings.
As in A

As in A


Changes made to names, and differences in names,
in the texts of AElfwine of England.
Luthien The name of the land in I and II; in A Luthany (see note 20).
Deor At the first occurrence only in I Deor < Heorrenda, subse-
quently Deor; A Deor.
Evadrien In I < Erenol. Erenol = 'Iron Cliff'; see I. 252, entry Eriol.
Forodwaith II has Forodwaith < Forwaith < Gwasgonin; I has
Gwasgonin or the Winged Helms; A has the Winged Helms.
Outer Land < Outer Lands at both occurrences in II (pp. 316 -- 17).
AEfheah I has Gelimer (at the first occurrence only < Helgor).
Shipmen of the West In II < Eneathrim.
APPENDIX.
NAMES IN THE LOST TALES -- PART II.
This appendix is designed only as an adjunct and extension to that in Part
One. Names that have already been studied in Part One are not given
entries in the following notes, if there are entries under that name in Part
One, e.g. Melko, Valinor; but if, as is often the case, the etymological
information in Part One is contained in an entry under some other name,
this is shown, e.g. 'Gilim See I.z6o (Melko)'.
Linguistic information from the Name-list to The Fall of Condolin
(see p. 148) incorporated in these notes is referred to 'NFG'. 'GL' and
'QL' refer to the Gnomish and Qenya dictionaries (see I. 246ff.). Qenya
is the term used in both these books and is strictly the name of the
language spoken in Tol Eressea; it does not appear elsewhere in the early
writings, where the distinction is between 'Gnomish' on the one hand
and 'Elfin', 'Eldar', or 'Eldarissa' on the other.
Alqarame For the first element Qenya alqa 'swan' see I. 249
(Alqalunte). Under root RAHA QL gives ra 'arm', rakta 'stretch
out, reach', rama 'wing', ramavoite' 'having wings'; GL has ram
'wing, pinion', and it is noted that Qenya rama is a confusion of this
and a word roma 'shoulder'.
Amon Gwareth Under root AM(U) 'up(wards)' QL gives amu
'up(wards)', amu- 'raise', amunte' 'sunrise', amun(d) 'hill'; GL has
am 'up(wards)', amon 'hill, mount', adverb 'uphill'.
GL gives the name as Amon 'Wareth 'Hill of Ward', also
gwareth 'watch, guard, ward', from the stem gwar- 'watch' seen
also in the name of Tinfang Warble (Gwarbilin 'Birdward',
I. 268). See Glamhoth, Gwarestrin.
Angorodin See I. 249 (Angamandi) and I. 156 (Kalonne').
Arlisgion GL gives Carlisgion (see I.265 (Sirion)), as also does
NFG, which has entries 'Garlisgion was our name, saith Elfrith,
for the Place of Reeds which is its interpretation', and 'lisg is a reed
(liske')'. GL has lisg, lisc 'reed, sedge', and QL liske with the same
meaning. For gar see I. 251 (Dor Faidwen).
Artanor GL has athra 'across, athwart', athron adverb 'further,
beyond', athrod 'crossing, ford' (changed later to adr(a), adron,
adros). With athra, adr(a) is compared Qenya arta. Cf. also the
name Dor Athro (p. 41). It is clear that both Artanor and Dor
Athro meant 'the Land Beyond'. Cf. Sarnathrod.

Asgon An entry in NFG says. "Asgon A lake in the "Land of Shadows"
Dor Lomin, by the Elves named Aksan.'
Ausir GL gives avos 'fortune, wealth, prosperity,' avosir, Ausir 'the
same (personified)', also ausin 'rich', aus(s)aith or avosaith
'avarice'. Under root AWA in QL are aute 'prosperity, wealth; rich',
ausie'wealth'.
Bablon See p. 214.
Bad Uthwen Gnomish uthmen 'way out, exit, escape', see I.251
(Dor Faidwen). The entry in NFG says: 'Bad Uthwen [emended
from Uswen] meaneth but "way of escape" and is in Eldarissa
Uswevande'.' For vande see I. 264 (Qalvanda).
Balcmeg In NFG it is said that Balcmeg 'was a great fighter among the
Orclim (Orqui say the Elves) who fell to the axe of Tuor -- 'tis in
meaning "heart of evil".' (For -lim in Orclim see Condothlim.)
The entry for Balrog in NFG says: 'Bal meaneth evilness, and Balc
evil, and Balrog meaneth evil demon.' GL has balc 'cruel'. see
I. 250 (Balrog).
Bansil For the entry in NFG, where this name is translated 'Fair-
gleam', see p. 214; and for the elements of the name see I.272
(Vana) and I. 265 (Sil).
Belaurin See I. 264 (Palurien).
Belcha See I. 260 (Melko). NFG has an entry: 'Belca Though here
[i.e. in the Tale] of overwhelming custom did Bronweg use the elfin
names, this was the name aforetime of that evil Ainu.'
Beleg See I. 254 (Haloisi Velike).
Belegost For the first element see Beleg. GL gives ost 'enclosure,
yard -- town', also oss 'outer wall, town wall', osta- 'surround with
walls, fortify', ostor 'enclosure, circuit of walls'. QL under root oso
has os(t) 'house, cottage', osta 'homestead', ostar 'township', ossa
'wall and moat'.
bo- A late entry in GL: 'bo (bon) (cf. Qenya vo, vondo "son") as
patronymic prefix, bo- bon- "son of"'; as an example is given Tuor
bo-Beleg. There is also a word bor 'descendant'. See go-,
Indorion.
Bodruith In association with bod- 'back, again' GL has the words
bodruith 'revenge', bodruithol 'vengeful (by nature)', bodruithog
'thirsting for vengeance', but these were struck out. There is also
gruith 'deed of horror, violent act, vengeance'. -- It may be that
Bodruith Lord of Belegost was supposed to have received his name
from the events of the Tale of the Nauglafring.
Copas Alqalunten See I. 254 (Kopas) and I. 249 (Alqalunte).
Cris Ilbranteloth GL gives the group crisc 'sharp', criss 'cleft, gash,
gully', crist 'knife', crista- 'slash, cut, slice', NFG: 'Cris meaneth

much as doth falc, a cleft, ravine, or narrow way of waters with high
walls'. QL under root KIRI 'cut, split' has kiris 'cleft, crack' and other
words.
For ilbrant 'rainbow' see I. 256 (Ilweran). The final element is
teloth 'roofing, canopy': see I. 267 -- 8 (Teleri).
Cristhorn For Cris see Cris Ilbranteloth, and for thorn see I. 266
(Sorontur). In NFG is the entry: 'Cris Thorn is Eagles' Cleft or
Sornekiris. '
Cuilwarthon For cuil see I. 257 (Koivie-neni); the second element is
not explained.
Cum an-Idrisaith For cum 'mound' see I. 250 (Cum a Gumlaith).
Idrisaith is thus defined in GL: 'cf. avosaith, but that means
avarice, money-greed, but idrisaith = excessive love of gold and
gems and beautiful and costly things' (for avosaith see Ausir).
Related words are idra 'dear, precious', idra 'to value, prize', idri
(id) 'a treasure, s jewel', idril 'sweetheart' (see Idril).
Curufin presumably contains curu 'magic'; see I. 269 (Tolli Kuruvar).
Dairon GL includes this name but without etymological explanation:
'Dairon the fluter (Qenya Sairon).' See Mar Vanwa Tyalieva
below.
Danigwiel In GL the Gnomish form is Danigwethil; see I.266
(Taniquetil). NFG has an entry: 'Danigwethil do the Gnomes call
Taniquetil; but seek for tales concerning that mountain rather in
the elfin name.'
(bo-)Dhrauthodavros '(Son of) the weary forest'. Gnomish drauth
'weary, toilworn', drauthos 'toil, weariness', drautha- 'to be
weary'; for the second element tavros see I. 267 (Tavari).
Dor Athro See Artanor, Sarnathrod.
Dor-na-Dhaideloth For Gnomish dai 'sky' see I. 268 (Telimektar),
and for teloth 'roofing, canopy' see ibid. (Teleri); cf. Cris Ilbran-
teloth.
Dramborleg NFG has the following entry: 'Dramborleg (or as it may
be named Drambor) meaneth in its full form Thudder-sharp, and
was the axe of Tuor that smote both a heavy dint as of a club and
cleft as a sword; and the Eldar say Tarambor or Tarambolaika.'
QL gives Tarambor, Tarambolaike 'Tuor's axe' under root TARA,
TARAMA'batter, thud, beat', with taran, tarambo 'buffet', and taru
'horn' (included here with a query: see Taruithorn). No Gnomish
equivalents are cited in GL.
The second element is Gnomish leg, leg 'keen, piercing', Qenya
laika; cf. Legolast 'keen-sight', I. 267 (Tari-Laisi).
Duilin NFG has the following entry: 'Duilin whose name meaneth
Swallow was the lord of that house of the Gondothlim whose sign
was the swallow and was surest of the archers of the Eldalie, but fell
in the fall of Gondolin. Now the names of those champions appear

but in Noldorissa, seeing that Gnomes they were, but his name
would be in Eldarissa Tuilindo, and that of his house (which the
Gnomes called Nos Duilin) Nosse Tuilinda.' Tuilindo '(spring-
singer), swallow' is given in QL, see I.269 (Tuilere); GL has
duilin(g) 'swallow', with duil, duilir 'Spring', but these last were
struck through and in another part of the book appear tuil, tuilir
'Spring' (see I. 269).
For nosse' kin, people see I. 272 (Valinor)-, GL does not give
nos in this sense, but has nosta- 'be born', nost 'birth; blood, high
birth; birthday', and noss (changed to nos) 'birthday'. Cf. Nost-
na-Lothion 'the Birth of Flowers', Nos Galdon, Nos nan Alwen.
Earame For ea 'eagle' see I.251 (Eerendel), and for rame see
Alqarame. GL has an entry Iotothram, -um '= Qenya Earame or
Eaglepinion, a name of one of Earendel's boats'. For Gnomish ior,
ioroth 'eagle' see I. 251 (Earendel), and cf. the forms Earam,
Earum as the name of the ship (pp. 260, 276).
Earendel See pp. 266 -- 7 and 1. 25 I.
Earendilyon See I.251 (Earendel), and Indorion.Ec
thelion Both GL and NFG derive this name from ecthel
'fountain', to which corresponds Qenya ektele'. (This latter
survived: cf. the entry kel- in the Appendix to The Silmarillion:
'from et-kele "issue of water, spring" was derived, with trans-
position of the consonants, Quenya ehtele, Sindarin eithel'. A
later entry in GL gives aithil (( ektl) 'a spring'.) -- A form kektele'
is also found in Qenya from root KELE, KELU: see I. 257 (Kelusindi).
Egalmoth NFG has the following entry: 'Egalmoth is a great name,
yet none know clearly its meaning -- some have said its bearer was so
named in that he was worth a thousand Elves (but Rumil says nay)
and others that it signifies the mighty shoulders of that Gnome, and
so saith Rumil, but perchance it was woven of a secret tongue of the
Gondothlim' (for the remainder of this entry see p. 215). For
Gnomish moth '1000' see I. 270 (Uin).
GL interprets the name as Rumil did, deriving it from alm
((<aldam-)'the broad of the back from shoulder to shoulder, back,
shoulders', hence Egalmoth = 'Broadshoulder'; the name in Qenya
is said to be Aikaldamor, and an entry in QL of the same date
gives aika 'broad, vast', comparing Gnomish eg, egrin. These
in turn GL glosses as 'far away, wide, distant' and 'wide, vast,
broad; far' (as in Egla; see I. 251 (Eldar)).
Eglamar See I. 251 (Eldamar). NFG has the following entry: 'Egla
said the son of Bronweg was the Gnome name of the Eldar (now but
seldom used) who dwelt in Kor, and they were called Eglothrim
[emended from Eglothlim] (that is Eldalie'), and their tongue Lam
Eglathon or Egladrin. Rumil said these names Egla and Elda were
akin, but Elf rith cared not overmuch for such lore and they seem not


over alike.' With this cf. I. 251 (Eldar). GL gives lam 'tongue', and
lambe is found in QL: a word that survived into later Quenya. In
QL it is given as a derivative of root LAVA 'lick', and defined 'tongue
(of body, but also of land, or even = "speech")'.
Eldarissa appears in QL ('the language of the Eldar') but without
explanation of the final element. Possibly it was derived from the
root ISI: ista 'know', isse 'knowledge, lore', iswa, isqa 'wise', etc.
Elfrith See pp. 201-2, and I. 255 (llverin).
Elmavoite 'One-handed' (Beren). See Ermabwed.
Elwing GL has the following entry: 'Ailwing older spelling of
Elwing = "lake foam". As a noun = "white water-lily". The name
of the maiden loved by Ioringli' (Ioringli = Earendel, see I. 251).
The first element appears in the words ail 'lake, pool', ailion 'lake',
Qenya ailo, ailin -- cf. later Aelin-uial. The second element is
gwing 'foam': see I. 273 (Wingilot).
Erenol See I. 252 (Eriol).
Ermabwed 'One-handed' (Beren). GL gives mab 'hand', amabwed,
mabwed 'having hands', mabwedri 'dexterity', mabol 'skilful',
mablios 'cunning', mablad, mablod 'palm of hand', mabrin(d)
'wrist'. A related word in Qenya was said in GL to be mapa (root
MAPA) 'seize', but this statement was struck out. QL has also a root
MAHA with many derivatives, notably ma (= maha) 'hand',
mavoite 'having hands' (cf. Elmavoite).
Faiglindra 'Long-tressed' (Airin). Gnomish faigli 'hair, long tresses
(especially used of women)'; faiglion 'having long hair', and
faiglim of the same meaning, 'especially as a proper name', Faiglim,
Aurfaiglim 'the Sun at noon'. With this is bracketed the word
faiglin(d) ra.
Failivrin Together with fail 'pale, pallid', failthi 'pallor', and Failin a
name of the Moon, GL gives Failivrin: '(1) a maid beloved by
Silmo; (2) a name among the Gnomes of many maidens of great
beauty, especially Failivrin of the Rothwarin in the Tale of
Turumart.' (In the Tale Rothwarin was replaced by Rodothlim.)
The second element is brin, Qenya uirin, 'a magic glassy sub-
stance of great lucency used in fashioning the Moon. Used of things
of great and pure transparency.' For uirin see I. 192-3.
Falasquil Three entries in NFG refer to this name (for falas see also
I. 253 (Falman)):
'Falas meaneth (even as falas or falasse' in Eldar) a beach.'
'Falas-a-Gwilb the "beach of peace" was Falasquil in Elfin where
Tuor at first dwelt in a sheltered cove by the Great Sea.' -a-Gwilb is
struck through and above is written, apparently, 'Wild or Wilma.
'Gwilb meaneth "full of peace", which is gwilm.'
GL gives gwil, gwilm, gwilthi 'peace', and gwilb 'quiet, peace-
ful'.

Fangluin 'Bluebeard'. See Indrafang. For luin 'blue' see I. 262
(Nielluin).
Foaloke Under a root FOHO 'hide, hoard, store up' QL gives foa
'hoard, treasure', foina 'hidden', fole' 'secrecy, a secret', folima
'secretive', and foaloke 'name of a serpent that guarded a treasure'.
loke 'snake' is derived from a root LOKO twine, twist, curl'.
GL originally had entries fu, ful, fun 'hoard', fulug 'a dragon
(who guards treasure)', and ulug 'wolf'. By later changes this con-
struction was altered to fuis 'hoard', fuithlug, -og (the form that
appears in the text, p. 70), ulug 'dragon' (cf. Qenya loke'). An entry
in NFG reads: 'Lug is loke' of the Eldar, and meaneth "drake".'
Fos'Almir (Earlier name of Faskala-numen; translated in the text
(p. 115) 'the bath of flame'.) For fos 'bath' see 1.253 (Faskala-
numen). GL gives three names: 'Fos Aura, Fos'Almir, and Fos na
Ngalmir, i.e. Sun's bath = the Western Sea.' For Galmir, Aur,
names of the Sun, see I. 254 and I. 271 (Ur).
Fuithlug See Foaloke.
Galdor For the entry in NFG concerning Galdor see p. 215; as first
written galdon was there said to mean 'tree', and Galdor's people
to be named Nos Galdon. Galdon is not in GL. Subsequently
galdon > alwen, and alwen does appear in GL, as a word of
poetic vocabulary: alwen '= orn'. -- Cf. Qenya alda 'tree'
(see I.249 (Aldaron)), and the later relationship Quenya alda,
Sindarin galadh.
Gar Thurion NFG has the earlier form Gar Furion (p. 202), and GL
has furn, furion 'secret, concealed', also fur 'a lie' (Qenya furu) and
fur- 'to conceal; to lie'. QL has furin and hurin 'hidden, concealed'
(root FURU Of HURU). With Thurion cf. Thuringwethil 'Woman of
Secret Shadow', and Thurin 'the Secret', Finduilas' name for Turin
(Unfinished Tales pp. 157, 159).
Gil See I. 256 (Ingil).
Gilim See I. 260 (Melko).
Gimli GL has gimli '(sense of) hearing', with gim- 'hear', gimriol
'attentive' (changed to 'audible'), gimri 'hearkening, attention'. The
hearing of Gimli, the captive Gnome in the dungeons of Tevildo,
'was the keenest that has been in the world' (p. 29).
Glamhoth GL defines this as 'name given by the Goldothrim to the
Orcin: People of Dreadful Hate' (cf. 'folk of dreadful hate', p. 160).
For Goldothrim see I. 262 (Noldoli). The first element is glam
'hatred, loathing'; other words are glamri 'bitter feud', glamog
'loathsome'. An entry in NFG says: 'Glam meaneth "fierce hate"
and even as Gwar has no kindred words in Eldar.'
For hoth 'folk' see I. 264 (orchoth in entry Orc), and cf.
Goldothrim, Gondothlim, Rumhoth, Thornhoth. Under root
HOSO QL gives hos 'folk', hosse' 'army, band, troop', hostar 'tribe',


horma 'horde, host', also Sankossi 'the Goblins', equivalent of
Gnomish Glamhoth, and evidently compounded of sanke 'hateful'
(root SNKN 'rend, tear') and hosse.
Glend Perhaps connected with Gnomish glenn 'thin, fine', glendrin
'slender', glendrinios 'slenderness', glent, glentweth 'thinness';
Qenya root LENE 'long', which developed its meaning in different
directions: 'slow, tedious, trailing', and 'stretch, thin': lenka 'slow',
lenwa 'long and thin, straight, narrow', lenu- 'stretch', etc.
Glingol For the entry in NFG, where the name is translated 'singing-
gold', see p. 216; and see I. 258 (Lindelos). The second element is
culu 'gold', for which see I. 255 (Ilsalunte); another entry in NFG
reads: 'Culu or Culon is a name we have in poesy for Glor (and
Rumil saith that it is the Elfin Kulu, and -gol in our Glingol).'
Glorfalc For glor see I. 258 (Laurelin). NFG has an entry: 'Glor is
gold and is that word that cometh in verse of the Kor-Eldar laure (so
saith Rumil).'
Falc is glossed in GL '(1) cleft, gash; (2) cleft, ravine, cliffs' (also
given is falcon 'a great two-handed sword, twibill', which was
changed to falchon, and so close to English falchion 'broad-
sword'). NFG has: 'Falc is cleft and is much as Cris; being Elfin
Falqa', and under root FLKL in QL are falqa 'cleft, mountain pass,
ravine' and falqan 'large sword'. GL has a further entry: Glorfalc
'a great ravine leading out of Garioth'. Garioth is here used of
Hisi1ome; see I. 252 (Eruman). Cf. later Orfalch Echor.
Glorfindel For the entry in NFG, where the name is rendered 'Gold-
tress', see p. 216. For glor see I. 258 (Laurelin), and Glorfalc. GL
had an entry findel 'lock of hair', together with fith (fidhin) 'a single
hair', fidhra 'hairy', but findel was struck out; later entries are finn
'lock of hair' (see fin- in the Appendix to The Silmarillion) and fingl
or finnil 'tress'. NFG: 'Findel is "tress", and is the Elfin Findil.'
Under root FIRI QL gives findl 'lock of hair' and firin 'ray of the
sun'.
In another place in GL the name Glorfindel was given, and
translated 'Goldlocks', but it was changed later to Clorfinn, with a
variant Glorfingl.
Glorund For glor see I. 258 (Laurelin), and Clorfalc. GL gives
Glorunn 'the great drake slain by Turumart'. Neither of the Qenya
forms Laurundo, Undolaure (p. 84) appear in QL, which gives an
earlier name for 'the great worm', Fentor, together with fent
'serpent', fenume 'dragon'. As this entry was first written it read
'the great worm slain by Ingilmo'; to this was added 'or Turambar'.
Golosbrindi (Earlier name of Hirilorn, rendered in the text (p. 51)
'Queen of the Forest'.) A word goloth 'forest' is given in GL,
derived from *gwoloth, which is itself composed of aloth (alos), a
verse word meaning 'forest' (= taur), and the prefix *ngua > gwa,
unaccented go, 'together, in one', 'often used merely intensively'.

The corresponding word in Qenya is said to be malos, which does
not appear in QL.
Gondobar See Condolin, and for -bar see I. 251 (Eldamar). In GL
the- form Condobar was later changed to Conthobar.
Gondolin To the entries cited in I. 254 may be added that in NFG:
'Cond meaneth a stone, or stone, as doth Elfin on and ondo.' For
the statement about Gondolin (where the name is rendered 'stone of
song') in NFG see p. 216; and for the latest formulation of the
etymology of Condolin see the Appendix to The Silmarillion,
entry gond.
Gondothlim GL has the following entry concerning the word lim
'many', Qenya limbe (not in QL): 'It is frequently suffixed and so
becomes a second plural inflexion. In the singular it = English
"many a", as golda-lim. It is however most often suffixed to the
plural in those nouns making their plural in -th. It then changes to
-rim after -1. Hence great confusion with grim "host"'and thlim
"race", as in Goldothrim ("the people of the Gnomes").' NFG has
an entry: 'Gondothlim meaneth "folk of stone" and (saith Rumil) is
Cond "stone", whereto be added Hoth "folk" and that -lim we
Gnomes add after to signify "the many".' Cf. Lothlim, Rodothlim,
and Orclim in entry Balcmeg; for hoth see Glamhoth.
Gondothlimbar See Gondolin, Condothlim, and for -bar see I.251
(Eldamar). In GL the form Condothlimbar was later changed to
'Conthoflimar or Gonnothlimar'.
go- An original entry in GL, later struck out, was: gon- go- 'son of,
patronymic prefix (cf. suffix ios/ion/io and Qenya yo, yondo)'.
The replacement for this is given above under bo-. See Indorion.
Gon Indor See go-, Indorion.
Gothmog See pp. 67, 216, and I.258 (Kosomot). GL has mog-
'detest, hate', mogri 'detestation', mogrin 'hateful', Qenya root
MOKO 'hate'. In addition to goth 'war, strife' (Qenya root KOSO
'strive') may be noted gothwen 'battle', gothweg 'warrior',
gothwin 'Amazon', gothriol 'warlike', gothfeng 'war-arrow',
gothwilm 'armistice'.
Gurtholfin GL: Gurtholfin 'Urdolwen, a sword of Turambar's,
Wand of Death'. Also given is gurthu 'death' (Qenya urdu; not in
QL). The second element of the name is olfin(g) (also olf) 'branch,
wand, stick' (Qenya olwen(n) ).
It may be noted that in QL Turambar's sword is given as
Sangahyando 'cleaver of throngs', from roots SANGA 'pack tight,
press' (sanga 'throng') and HYARA 'plough through' (hyar 'plough',
hyanda 'blade, share'). Sangahyando 'Throng-cleaver' survived
to become the name of a man in Gondor (see the Appendix to The
Silmarillion, entry thang).
Gwar See I. 257 (Kor, korin).
Gwarestrin Rendered in the Tale (p. 158) as 'Tower of Guard', and so

also in NFG; GL glosses it 'watchtower (especially as a name of
Gondolin)'. A late entry in GL gives estirin, estirion, estrin
'pinnacle', beside esc 'sharp point, sharp edge'. The second element
of this word is tiri(o)n; see I. 258 (Kortirion). For gwar see Amon
Gwareth.
Gwedheling See I. 273 (Wendelin).
Heborodin 'The Encircling Hills.' Gnomish preposition heb 'round
about, around'; hebrim 'boundary', hebwirol 'circumspect'. For
orod see I. 256 (Kalorme).
Hirilorn GL gives hiril 'queen (a poetic use), princess; feminine of
bridhon'. For bridhon see Tevildo. The second element is orn
'tree'. (It may be mentioned here that the word neldor 'beech' is
found in QL; see the Appendix to The Silmarillion, entry neldor).
Idril For Gnomish idril 'sweetheart' see Cum an-Idrisaith. There is
another entry in,GL as follows: Idhril 'a girl's name often confused
with Idril. Idril = "beloved" but Idhril = "mortal maiden". Both
appear to have been the names of the daughter of Turgon -- or
apparently Idril was the older and the Kor-eldar called her Irilde (=
Idhril) because she married Tuor.' Elsewhere in GL appear idhrin
'men, earth-dwellers; especially used as a folk-name contrasted with
Eglath etc.; cf. Qenya indi', and Idhru, Idhrubar 'the world, all the
regions inhabited by Men; cf. Qenya irmin'. In QL these words
indi and irmin are given under root IRI 'dwell?', with irin 'town',
indo 'house', indor 'master of house' (see Indor), etc.; but Irilde
does not appear. Similar words are found in Gnomish: ind, indos
'house, hall', indor 'master (of house), lord'.
After the entry in NFG on Idril which has been cited (p. 216) a
further note was added: 'and her name meaneth "Beloved", but
often do Elves say Idhril which more rightly compares with Irilde
and that meaneth "mortal maiden", and perchance signifies her
wedding with Tuor son of Men.' An isolated note (written in fact on
a page of the Tale of the Nauglafring) says: 'Alter name of Idril to
Idhril. The two were confused: Idril = "beloved", Idhril = "maiden
of mortals". The Elves thought this her name and called her Irilde
(because she married Tuor Pelecthon).'
Ilbranteloth See Cris Ilbranteloth.
Ilfiniol, Ilfrith See I. 255 (llverin).
Iluvatar An entry in NFG may be noticed here: 'En do the mystic
sayings of the Noldoli also name Ilathon [emended from Ad Ilon],
who is Iluvatar -- and this is like the Eldar Enu.' QL gives Enu, the
Almighty Creator who dwells without the world. For Ilathon see
I. 255 -- 6 (Ilwe).
Indor (Father of Tuor's father Peleg). This is perhaps the word indor
'master (of house), lord' (see Idril) used as a proper name.

Indorion See go-. QL gives yo, yond- as poetic words for 'son',
adding: 'but very common as -ion in patronymics (and hence
practically = "descendant")'; also yondo 'male descendant,
usually (great) grandson' (cf. Earendel's name Con Indor). Cf.
Earendilyon.
Indrafang GL has indra 'long (also used of time)', indraluin 'long
ago'; also indravang 'a special name of the nauglath or dwarves',
on which see p. 247. These forms were changed later to in(d)ra,
in(d) rafang, in(d) raluin/idhraluin.
An original entry in GL was bang 'beard' = Qenya vanga, but
this was struck out; and another word with the same meaning as
Indravang was originally entered as Bangasur but changed to
Fangasur. The second element of this is sur 'long, trailing', Qenya
sora, and a later addition here is Surfang 'a long-beard, a naugla or
inrafang'. Cf. Fangluin, and later Fangorn 'Treebeard'.
Irilde See.Idril.
Isfin NFG has this entry: 'Isfinwas the sister of Turgon Lord of
Gondolin, whom Eol at length wedded; and it meaneth either
"snow-locks" or "exceeding-cunning".' Long afterwards my father,
noting that Isfin was 'derived from the earliest (1916) form of The
Fall of Condolin', said that the name was 'meaningless'; but with
the second element cf. finn 'lock of hair' (see Glorfindel) or fim
'clever', finthi 'idea, notion', etc. (see I. 253 (Finwe)).
Ivare GL gives lor 'the famous "piper of the sea", Qenya Ivare'.'
Iverin A late entry in GL gives Aivrin or Aivrien 'an island off the
west coast of Tol Eressea, Qenya Iwerin or Iverindor.' QL has
Iverind- 'Ireland'.
Karkaras In GL this is mentioned as the Qenya form; the Gnomish
name of 'the great wolf-warden of Belca's door' was Carcaloth
or Carcamoth, changed to Carchaloth, Carchamoth. The first
element is carc 'jag, point, fang'; QL under root KRKR has
karka 'fang, tooth, tusk', karkasse,- karkaras 'row of spikes or
teeth'.
Kosmoko See Gothmog.
Kuruki See I. 269 (Tolli Kuruvar).
Ladwen-na-Dhaideloth 'Heath of the Sky-roof'. See Dor-na-
Dhaideloth. GL gives ladwen '(1) levelness, flatness; (2) a plain,
heath; (3) a plane; (4) surface.' Other words are ladin 'level,
smooth; fair, equable' (cf. Tumladin), lad 'a level' (cf. mablad
'palm of hand' mentioned under Ermabwed), lada- 'to smooth out,
stroke, soothe, beguile', and ladwinios 'equity'. There are also
words bladwen 'a plain' (see I. 264 (Palurien)), and fladwen
'meadow' (with flad 'sward' and Fladweth Amrod (Amrog)
'Nomad's Green', 'a place in Tol Erethrin where Eriol sojourned a



while; nigh to Tavrobel.' Amrog, amrod = 'wanderer', 'wander-
ing', from amra- 'go up and down, live in the mountains, wander';
see Amon Gwareth).
Laiqalasse See I. 267 (Tari-laisi), I. 254 (Gar Lossion).
Laurundo See Glorund.
Legolas See Larqalasse.
Lindelokte See I. 258 (Lindelos).
Linwe Tinto See I. 269 (Tinwe Linto).
Loke See Foaloke'.
Los See I. 254 (Car Lossion). The later form loth does not appear in
GL (which has however lothwing 'foamflower'). NFG has 'Los is a
flower and in Eldarissa losse which is a rose' (all after the word
'flower' struck out).
Losengriol As with los, the later form lothengriol does not appear in
GL. Losengriol is translated 'lily of the valley' in GL, which gives
the Gnomish words eng 'smooth, level', enga 'plain, vale', engri 'a
level', engriol 'vale-like; of the vale'. NFG says 'Eng is a plain or
vale and Engriol that which liveth or dwelleth therein', and trans-
lates Losengriol 'flower of the vale or lily of the valley'.
Los 'loriol (changed from Los Gloriol; the Golden Flower of
Gondolin). See I. 254 (Gar Lossion), and for gloriol 'golden' see
I. 258 (Laurelin).
Loth, Lothengriol See Los, Losengriol.
Lothlim See Los and Gondothlim. The entry in NFG reads: 'Lathlim
being for Loslim meaneth folk of the flower, and is that name taken
by the Exiles of Gondolin (which city they had called Los afore-
time).'
Mablung For mab 'hand' see Ermabwed. The second element is
lung 'heavy; grave, serious'; related words are lungra- 'weigh, hang
heavy', luntha 'balance, weigh', lunthang 'scales'.
Malkarauki See I. 250 (Balrog).
Mar Vanwa Tyalieva See I. 260 and add: a late entry in GL gives the
Gnomish name, Bara Dhair Haithin, the Cottage of Lost Play; also
daira- 'play' (with dairwen 'mirth', etc.), and haimor haithin
'gone, departed, lost' (with haitha- 'go, walk', etc.). Cf. Dairon.
Mathusdor (Aryador, Hisilome). In GL are given math 'dusk',
mathrin 'dusky', mathusgi 'twilight', mathwen 'evening'. See
Umboth-muilin.
Mavwin A noun mavwin 'wish' in GL was struck out, but related
words allowed to stand: mav- 'like', mavra 'eager after', mavri
'appetite', mavrin 'delightful, desirable', mavros 'desire', maus
'pleasure; pleasant'. Mavwin's name in Qenya, Mavoine, is not in
QL, unless it is to be equated with maivoine'great longing'.
Meleth A noun meleth 'love' is found in GL; see I. 262 (Nessa).
Melian, Melinon, Melinir None of these names occur in the
glossaries, but probably all are derivatives of the stem mel- 'love',
see I. 262 (Nessa). The later etymology of Melian derived the name
from mel- 'love' (Melyanna 'dear gift').
Meoita, Miaugion, Miaule See Tevildo.
Mindon-Gwar For mindon 'tower' see I. 260 (Minethlos); and for
Gwar see p. 291 and I. 257 (Kor, korin).
Morgoth See p. 67 and Gothmog. For the element mor- see I. 261
(Mornie).
Mormagli, Mormakil See I. 261 (Mornie) and I. 259 (Makar).
Nan Dumgorthin See p. 62. For nan see I. 261 (Nandini).
Nantsthrin This name does not occur in the last Tales, where the
Land of Willows is called Tasarinan, but GL gives it (see I. 265
(Sirion)) and NFG has an entry: 'Dor-tathrin was that Land of
Willows of which this and many a tale tells.' GL has tathrin
'willow', and QL tasarin of the same meaning.
Nauglafring GL has the following entry: 'Nauglafring = Fring na
Nauglithon, the Necklace of the Dwarves. Made for Ellu by the
Dwarves from the gold of Glorund that Mim the fatherless cursed
and that brought ruin on Beren Ermabwed and Damrod his son and
was not appeased till it sank with Elwing beloved of Earendel
to the bottom of the sea.' For Damrod (Daimord) son of Beren see
pp. 139, 259, and for the loss of Elwing and the Nauglafring
see pp. 255, 264. This is the only reference to the 'appeasing' of
Mim's curse. -- Gnomish fring means 'carcanet, necklace' (Qenya
firinga).
Niniel Cf. Gnomish nin 'tear', ninios 'lamentation', ninna- 'weep';
see I. 262 (Nienna).
Ninin-Udathriol ('Unnumbered Tears'). See Niniel. GL gives tathn
'number', tathra- 'number, count', udathnarol, udathriol
'innumerable'. U- is a 'negative prefix with any part of speech'. (QL
casts no light on Nieriltasinwa, p. 84, apart from the initial element
nie 'tear', see I. 262 (Nienna).)
Noldorissa See Eldarissa.
Nos Galdon, Nos nan Alwen See Duilin, Galdor.
Nost-na-Lothion See Duilin.
Parma Kuluinen The Golden Book, see p. 310. This entry is given
in QL under root PARA: parma 'skin, bark; parchment; book,
writings'. This word survived in later Quenya (The Lard of the
Rings III. 401). For Kuluinen see Glingol.
Peleg (Father of Tuor). GL has a common noun peleg 'axe', verb
pelectha- 'hew' (QL pelekko 'axe', pelekta- 'hew'). Cf. Tuor's
name Pelecthon in the note cited under Idril.
Ramandur See I. 259 (Makar).


Rog GL gives an adjective rog, rog 'doughty, strong'. But with the
Orcs' name for Egnor Beren's father, Rog the Fleet, cf. arog 'swift,
rushing', and raug of the same meaning; Qenya arauka.
Ros GL gives yet another meaning of this name: 'the Sea' (Qenya
Rasa).
Rodothlim See Rothwarin (earlier form replaced by Rodothlim).
Rothwarin GL has this name in the forms Rothbarin, Rosbarin:
'(literally "cavern-dwellers") name of a folk of secret Gnomes and
also of the regions about their cavernous homes on the banks of the
river.' Gnomish words derived from the root ROTO 'hollow' are rod
'tube, stem', ross 'pipe', roth 'cave, grot', rothrin 'hollow', rodos
'cavern'; QL gives rotse 'pipe', rota 'tube', ronta, rotwa 'hollow',
rotele 'cave'.
Rumhoth See Glamhoth.
Rusitaurion GL gives a noun rus {ms) 'endurance, longsuffering,
patience', together with adjective m 'enduring, longsuffering;
quiet, gentle', and verb m- 'remain, stay; endure'. For taurion see
I. 267 (Tavari).
Sarnathrod Gnomish sarn 'a stone'; for athrod 'ford' see Artanor.
Sarqindi ('Cannibal-ogres'). This must derive from the root SRKR
given in QL, with derivatives sarko 'flesh', sarqa 'fleshy', sarkuva
'corporeal, bodily'.
Silpion An entry in NFG (p. 215) translates the name as 'Cherry-
moon'. In QL is a word pio 'plum, cherry' (with piukka 'black-
berry', piosenna 'holly', etc.), and also Valpio 'the holy cherry of
Valinor'. GL gives Piosil and Silpios, without translation, as names
of the Silver Tree, and also a word piog 'berry'.
Taimonto See I. 268 (Telimektar).
Talceleb, Taltelepta (Name of Idril/Irilde, 'of the Silver Feet'.) The
first element is Gnomish tal 'foot (of people and animals)', related
words are taltha 'foot (of things), base, pedestal, pediment',
talrind, taldrin 'ankle', taleg, taloth 'path' -- another name
for the Way of Escape into Gondolin was Taleg Uthwen (see Bad
Uthwen). QL under root TALA'support' gives tala 'foot', talwi
(dual) 'the feet', talas 'sole', etc. For the second element see I. 268
(Telimpe). QL gives the form telepta but without translation.
Tarnin Austa For tarn 'gate' see I. 261 (Moritarnon). GL gives aust
'summer', cf. Aur 'the Sun', I. 271 (Ur).
Taruithorn, Taruktarna (Oxford). GL gives tar 'horn' and tarog
'ox' (Qenya taruku-), Taruithron older Taruitharn 'Oxford'.
Immediately following these words are tarn 'gate' and taru '(1)
cross (2) crossing'. QL has taru 'horn' (see Dramborleg), tarukka
'horned', tarukko, tarunko 'bull', Taruktarna 'Oxford', and
under root TARA tara-. 'cross, go athwart', tarna 'crossing, passage'.

Tasarinan See Nantathrin.
Taurfuin See I. 267' (Tavari) and I. 253 (Fui).
Teld Quing Ilon NFG has an entry: 'Cris a Teld Quing Ilon
signifieth Gully of the Rainbow Roof, and is in the Eldar speech
Kiris Iluqingatelda'; a Teld Quing Ilon was struck out and
replaced by Ilbranteloth. Another entry reads: 'Ilon is the
sky'; in GL Ilon (= Qenya Ilu) is the name of Iluvatar (see I. 255
(Ilwe')). Teld does not appear in GL, but related words as telm
'roof' are given (see I. 267 -- 8 (Teleri)); and cwing = 'a bow'.
QL has iluqinga 'rainbow' (see I. 256 (Ilweran)) and telda
'having a roof' (see I. 268 (Telimektar)). For Cris, Kiris see Cris
Ilbranteloth.
Tevildo, Tifil For the etymology see I. 268, to which can be added that
the earlier Gnomish form Tifil (later Tiberth) is associated in GL
with a noun tif 'resentment, ill-feeling, bitterness'.
Vardo Meoita 'Prince of Cats': for Vardo see 1.273 (Varda).
QL gives meoi 'cat'.
Bridhon Miaugion 'Prince of Cats': bridhon 'king, prince', cf.
Bridhil, Gnomish name of Varda (1.273). Nouns miaug, miog
'tomcat' and miauli 'she-cat' (changed to miaulin) are given in GL,
where -the Prince of Cats is called Tifil Miothon or Miaugion.
Miaule was the name of Tevildo's cook (p. 28).
Thorndor See I. 266 (Sorontur).
Thornhoth See Glamhoth.
Thorn Sir See I. 265 (Sirion).
Tifanto This name is clearly to be associated with the Gnomish words
(tif-, tifin) given in I. 268 (Tinfang).
Tifil See Tevildo.
Tirin See I. 258 (Kortirion).
Ton a Gwedrin Ton is a Gnomish word meaning 'fire (on a hearth)',
related to tan and other words given under Tanyasalpe' (I. 266 -- 7);
Ton a Gwedrin 'the Tale-fire' in Mar Vanwa Tyalieva. Cf. Ton
Sovriel 'the fire lake of Valinor' (sovriel 'purification', sovri
'cleansing'; son 'pure, clean', soth 'bath', so- 'wash, clean, bathe').
Gwedrin belongs with cwed- (preterite cwenthi) 'say, tell',
cweth 'word', cwent 'tale, saying', cwess 'saying, proverb', cwedri
'telling (of tales)', ugwedriol 'unspeakable, ineffable'. In QL under
root QETE are qet- (qente) 'speak, talk', quent 'word', qentele'
'sentence', Eldaqet = Eldarissa, etc. Cf. the Appendix to The
Silmarillion, entry quen- (quet-).
Tumladin For the first element, Gnomish tum 'valley', see I.269
(Tombo), and for the second, ladin 'level, smooth' see Ladwen na
Dhaideloth.
Turambar For the first element see I. 260 (Meril-i-Turinqi). QL gives
amarto, ambar 'Fate', and also (root MRTR) mart 'a piece of luck',
marto 'fortune, fate, lot', mart- 'it happens' (impersonal). GL has



mart 'fate', martion 'fated, doomed, fey', also umrod and umbart
'fate'.
Turumart See Turambar.
Ufedhin Possible connections of this name are Gnomish uf 'out of,
forth from', or fedhin 'bound by agreement, ally, friend'.
Ulbandi See I. 260 (Melko).
Ulmonan The Gnomish name was Ingulma(n) (Gulma = Ulmo),
with the prefix in- (ind-, im-) 'house of' (ind 'house', see Idril).
Other examples of this formation are Imbelca, Imbelcon 'Hell
(house of Melko)', inthorn 'eyrie', Intavros 'forest' (properly 'the
forest palace of Tavros').
Umboth-muilin Gnomish umboth, umbath 'nightfall'; Umbathor is
a name of Garioth (see l. 252 (Eruman)). This word is derived from
* mbap-, related to * map- seen in math 'dusk': see Mathusdor. The
second element is muil 'tarn', Qenya moile'.
Undolaure See Glorund.
Valar NFG has the following entry: Banin [emended from Banion]
or Bandrim [emended from Banlim]. Now these dwell, say the
Noldoli, in Gwalien [emended from Banien] but they are spoken
of ever by Elfrith and the others in their Elfin names as the Valar (or
Vali), and that glorious region of their abode is Valinor.' See I. 272
(Valar).


SHORT GLOSSARY OF OBSOLETE,
ARCHAIC, AND RARE WORDS.
Words that have been given in the similar glossary to Part I (such as an
'if', fain, lief, meed, rede, ruth) are not as a rule repeated here. Some
words of current English used in obsolete senses are included.
acquaint old past participle, superseded by acquainted, 287
ardour burning heat, 38, 170 (modern sense 194)
bested beset, 193
bravely splendidly, showily, 75
broidure embroidery, 163. Not recorded, but broid- varied with
broud- etc. in Middle English, and broudure 'embroidery' is found.
burg walled and fortified town, 175
byrnie body-armour, corslet, coat-of-mail, 163
carcanet ornamental collar or necklace, 227-8, 235, 238
carle (probably) serving-man, 85; house-carle 190
chain linear measure (a chain's length), sixty-six feet, 192
champain level, open country, 295, 298
clue thread, 322
cot small cottage, 95, 141
damasked 224, damascened 173, 227, ornamentally inlaid with
designs in gold and silver.
diapered covered with a small pattern, 173
dight arrayed, fitted out, 173
drake dragon, 41, 46, $5 -- 7, etc. (Drake is the original English
word, Old English draca, derived from Latin; dragon was from
French).
drolleries comic plays or entertainments, 190
enow enough, 241-2
enthralled enslaved, 97, 163, I96, 198
entreat treat, 26, 77, 87, 236 (modern sense 38)
errant wandering, 42
estate situation, 97
ewer pitcher for water, 226
eyot small island, 7
fathom linear measure (six feet), formerly not used only of water, 78
fell in dread fell into dread, 106
force waterfall, 105 (Northern English, from Scandinavian).
fordone overcome, 233
fosses pits, 288
fretted adorned with elaborate carving, 297

glamour enchantment, spell, 314
greaves armour for the lower leg, 163
guestkindliness hospitality, 228. Apparently not recorded; used in
I. 175.
haply perhaps, 13, 94, 99
hie hasten; hie thee, hasten, 75
high-tide festival, 231
house-carle 190, see carle.
inly inwardly, 315
jacinth blue, 274
kempt combed, 75; unkempt, uncombed, 159
kirtle long coat or tunic, 154
knave male child, boy, 96 (the original sense of the word, long since
lost).
lair in the dragon's lair, 105, the place where the dragon was lying
(i.e. happened at that time to be lying).
lambent (of flame) playing lightly on a surface without burning, 297
league about three miles, 171, 189, 201
lealty loyalty, 185
let desisted, 166; allowed, 181; had let fashion, had had fashioned,
174, let seize, had (him) seized, 225, let kill, had (them) killed,
235
like please, 41; good liking, good will, friendly disposition, 169
list wish, 85, 101; like, 236
or ever before ever, 5 -- 6, 38, 80, 110, 233 -- 4, 240
or... or either... Of, 226
pale boundary, 269
ports gateways, 299
prate chatter, speak to no purpose, 75
puissance power, 168
repair make one's way, go, 162
runagate deserter, 15, 44 (the same word in origin as renegade, 15,
44) 224) 232)
scathe hurt, harm, 99, 233
scatterlings wanderers, stragglers, 182
sconces brackets fastened on a wall, to carry candle or torch, 226
scullion menial kitchen-servant, drudge, 17, 45
shallop 274. See 1.275; but here the boat is defined as oarless.
silvern silver, 270 (the original Old English adjective).
slot track of an animal, 38, 96 (= spoor 38).
stead farm, 89
stricken in the Stricken Anvil, struck, beaten, 174, 179
swinge stroke, blow, 194
thews strength, bodily power, 33
tilth cultivated (tilled) land, 4, 88, 101
tithe tenth part, 188, 223, 227



travail hardship, suffering, 77, 82, 239; toil, 168; travailed, toiled,
163; travailing, enduring hardship, 75
trencher large dish or platter, 226
uncouth 85 perhaps has the old meaning 'strange', but elsewhere (13,
75, I 15) has the modern sense.
vambrace armour for the fore-arm, 163
weird fate, 85 -- 6, xi-x, 155, 239
whin gorse, 287
whortle whortleberry, bilberry; whortlebush 287
withe withy, flexible branch of willow, 229
worm serpent, dragon, 85 -- 8, etc.
wrack downfall, ruin, 116, 253, 283, 285