Tolkien and Old English
The Language Behind The Lord of the Rings
Dr. Felicia Jean Steele
Assistant Professor
Dept. of English, The College of New Jersey
Inspired by a shining star…
From Cynewulf, Christ
Eala Earendel, engla beorhtast,
ofer middangeard monnum sended.
[Hail morning star! Brightest of angels, sent
to men over middle-earth.]
Bilbo Awakens a Dragon
He gazed for what seemed an age, before drawn almost against
his will, he stole from the shadow of the doorway, across the
floor to the nearest edge of the mounds of treasure. Above him
the sleeping dragon lay, a dire menace even in his sleep. He
grasped the great two-handed cup, as heavy as he could carry,
and cast one fearful eye upwards. Smaug stirred a wing, opened
a claw, the rumble of his snoring changed a note. . . It does not
do to leave a live dragon out of your calculations, if you live near
him. Dragons may not have much real use for all thier wealth,
but they know it to an ounce as a rule, especially after long
possession; and Smaug was no exception. He had passed from
an uneasy dream (in which a warrior, altogether insignificant in
size but provided with a bitter sword and great courage, figured
most unpleasantly) to a doze, and from a doze to wide waking. .
. [Smaug] issued from the Gate, the waters rose in fierce
whistling the mountain top in a spout of green and scarlet flame.
The Dragon of Beowulf
Then an old harrower of the dark underground treasury, until the
happened to find the hoard open, intruder
the burning one who hunts out unleashed its fury; he hurried to
barrows, his lord
the slick-skinned dragon, with the gold-plated cup and
threatening the night sky made his plea
with streamers of fire. He is driven to be reinstated. . .
to hunt out When the dragon awoke, trouble
hoards under ground, to guard flared again.
heathen gold He rippled down the rock, writing
through age-long vigils, though to with anger
little avail. when he saw the footprints of the
For three centuries, this scourge prowler who had stole
of the people too close to his dreaming head.
had stood guard on that stoutly --Seamus Heaney translation
protected
The ‘Real’ Dragon of Beowulf
þa se wyrm onwoc, wroht wæs geniwad;
stonc ða æfter stane, stearcheort onfand
feondes fotlast; he to forð gestop
dyrnan cræfte dracan heafde neah.
[Then the dragon awoke, anger was renewed. The
stark-hearted sniffed after the stone, discovered
the footprints of the enemy; he stepped to near,
with secret craft, to the head of the dragon.]
Gimli’s Lament
There hammer on the anvil Unwearied then were Durin’s folk;
smote, Beneath the mountains music
There chisel clove, and graver woke:
wrote; The harpers harped, the minstrels
There forged was blade, and sang,
bound was hilt; And at the gates the trumpets
The delver mined, the mason rang.
built.
There beryl, pearl, and opal pale, The world is grey, the mountains
And metal wrought like fishes’ old,
mail, The forge’s fire is ashen-cold;
Buckler and corselet, axe and No harp is wrung, no hammer
sword, falls:
And shining spears were laid in The darkness dwells in Durin’s
hoard. halls;
--from The Fellowship of the Ring
“The Lay of the Last Survivor”
“Now, earth, hold what earls once the coat of mail that came through all
held fights,
and heroes can no more; it was through shield collapse and cut of
mined from you first sword,
by honorable men. My own people decays with the warrior. Nor may
have been ruined in war; one by one webbed mail
they went down to death, looked their Range far and wide on the warlord’s
last back
on sweet life in the hall. I am left with beside his mustered troops. No
nobody trembling harp,
to bear a sword or burnish plated no tuned timber, no tumbling hawk
goblets, swerving through the hall, no swift
put a sheen on the cup. The horse
companies have departed. pawing the courtyard. Pillage and
The hard helmet, hasped with gold, slaughter
will be stripped of its hoops; and the have emptied the earth of entire
helmet-shiner peoples.”
who should polish the metal of the
war-mask sleeps;
The ‘Real’ Lay of the Last Survivor
"Heald þu nu, hruse, nu hæleð ne ge swylce seo herepad, sio æt hilde
moston, gebad
eorla æhte! Hwæt, hyt ær on ðe ofer borda gebræc bite irena,
gode begeaton. Guðdeað fornam, brosnað æfter beorne. Ne mæg
feorhbealo frecne, fyra gehwylcne byrnan hring
leoda minra, þara ðe þis lif ofgeaf, æfter wigfruman wide feran,
gesawon seledream. Ic nah hwa hæleðum be healfe. Næs hearpan
sweord wege wyn,
oððe feormie fæted wæge, gomen gleobeames, ne god hafoc
dryncfæt deore; duguð ellor sceoc. geond sæl swingeð, ne se swifta
Sceal se hearda helm hyrsted mearh
golde burhstede beateð. Bealocwealm
fætum befeallen; feormynd hafað
swefað, fela feorhcynna forð onsended!"
þa ðe beadogriman bywan
sceoldon,