Act 2, Scene 8
A/N: I have conflated Carcharoth and Huan a bit for this scene. No slash is intended.
Act 2, Scene VIII
Enter Celegorm.
Celegorm:
Confused, and yet compelled! Oh, Middle Earth!
My oath is still my spirit's prisoning!
Remote the peace that Death alone can give –
My doom, to wait! My punishment, to live!
Hearts do not break!
They sting and ache
For lost light’s sake,
But do not die,
Though with each breath
They long for death
As witnesseth
The living I!
The living I!
Oh, living I!
Come, tell me why,
When hope is gone,
Dost thou stay on?
Why linger here,
Where all is drear?
Oh, living I!
Come, tell me why,
When hope is gone,
Dost thou stay on?
May not a wearied Noldo die?
May not a wearied Noldo die?
Carchar:
(entering and approaching him timidly) Celegorm!
Celegorm:
The miscreant who robbed me of my love! But vengeance pursues – they are heating the cauldron!
Carchar:
Celegorm – behold a suppliant at your feet! Celegorm – mercy!
Celegorm:
Mercy? Had you mercy on her? See here, you! You have slain my love. She did not love me, but she would have loved me in time. I am an acquired taste – only the educated palate can appreciate me. I was educating her palate when she left me. Well, she is dead, and where shall I find another? It takes ages to train an elf to love me. Am I to go through the weary round again, and, at the same time, implore mercy for you who robbed me of my prey – I mean my pupil – just as her education was on the point of completion? Oh, where shall I find another?
Carchar:
(suddenly, and with great vehemence) Here! – Here!
Celegorm:
What!!!
Carchar:
(with intense passion) Celegorm, for years I have longed for a huntsman like you with a wormlike passion that is slowly but surely consuming my very vitals! Ah, shrink not from me! If there is aught of Eldar mercy in your heart, turn not away from a eager hound whose every fleabite thrills at your tiniest touch! True it is that, under a poor mask of fierceness, I have endeavoured to conceal a longing whose inner fires are broiling the soul within me! But the fire will not be smothered – it defies all attempts at extinction, and, breaking forth, all the more eagerly for its long restraint, it declares itself in words that will not be weighed – that cannot be schooled – that should not be too severely criticised. Celegorm, do you not realize that a hound such as I must have a huntsman such as you? Master!
Celegorm:
You, whose jaws still reek with the blood of my betrothed, dare to address words of passion to the Noldo you have so foully wronged!
Carchar:
I do – accept my love, or I perish on the spot!
Celegorm:
Go to! Who knows so well as I that no one ever yet died of a broken heart!
Carchar:
You know not what you say. Listen!
He sings, acting out the song with fawning gestures. Celegorm adopts a haughty stance, but is unable to ignore Carchar as the hound rolls more and more dramatically at his feet.
Carchar:
In the shade by a river a little lost pup
Howled, "Aroo, yip-aroo, yip-aroo!"
And I said to him, "Doggie-kin, why howl it up,
Howling, ‘Aroo, yip-aroo, yip-aroo’?"
"Is it weakness of intellect, doggie?" I cried,
"Or a rather tough worm in your little inside?"
With a droop in his poor little tail, he replied,
"Oh, aroo, yip-aroo, yip-aroo!"
He gnawed at his fur, as he laid on the ground,
Howling, "Aroo, yip-aroo, yip-aroo!"
And the clumps of his hair he had chewed all around,
Oh, aroo, yip-aroo, yip-aroo!
He sobbed and he sighed, and a gurgle he gave,
Then he plunged himself into the billowy wave,
And an echo arose from the suicide's grave –
"Oh, aroo, yip-aroo, yip-aroo!"
Now I feel just as sure as I'm sure that my name
Isn't Aroo, yip-aroo, yip-aroo,
That 'twas lack of a master that made him exclaim
"Oh, aroo, yip-aroo, yip-aroo!"
And if you remain callous and obdurate, I
Shall perish as he did, and you will know why,
Though I probably shall not exclaim as I die,
"Oh, aroo, yip-aroo, yip-aroo!"
During this song Celegorm has been greatly affected, and at the end is almost in tears.
Celegorm:
(whimpering) Did he really die alone?
Carchar:
He really did.
Celegorm:
All on account of lacking his huntsman?
Carchar:
Yes.
Celegorm. Poor little pup!
Carchar:
It's an affecting tale, and quite true. I knew the hound intimately.
Celegorm:
Did you? He must have been very loyal.
Carchar:
His devotion was something extraordinary.
Celegorm:
(still whimpering). Poor little pup! And – and if I refuse you, will you go and do the same?
Carchar:
At once.
Celegorm. No, no – you mustn't! Anything but that! (Scratches Celegorm between the ears.) Oh, I'm a foolish old elf!
Carchar:
(leaning into Celegorm’s hand) You are!
Celegorm:
And you won't hate me because I'm just a little teeny weeny wee bit bloodthirsty, will you?
Carchar:
Hate you? Oh, Celegorm! is there not beauty even in bloodthirstiness?
Celegorm. My idea exactly.
Act 2, Scene VIII
Enter Celegorm.
Celegorm:
Confused, and yet compelled! Oh, Middle Earth!
My oath is still my spirit's prisoning!
Remote the peace that Death alone can give –
My doom, to wait! My punishment, to live!
Hearts do not break!
They sting and ache
For lost light’s sake,
But do not die,
Though with each breath
They long for death
As witnesseth
The living I!
The living I!
Oh, living I!
Come, tell me why,
When hope is gone,
Dost thou stay on?
Why linger here,
Where all is drear?
Oh, living I!
Come, tell me why,
When hope is gone,
Dost thou stay on?
May not a wearied Noldo die?
May not a wearied Noldo die?
Carchar:
(entering and approaching him timidly) Celegorm!
Celegorm:
The miscreant who robbed me of my love! But vengeance pursues – they are heating the cauldron!
Carchar:
Celegorm – behold a suppliant at your feet! Celegorm – mercy!
Celegorm:
Mercy? Had you mercy on her? See here, you! You have slain my love. She did not love me, but she would have loved me in time. I am an acquired taste – only the educated palate can appreciate me. I was educating her palate when she left me. Well, she is dead, and where shall I find another? It takes ages to train an elf to love me. Am I to go through the weary round again, and, at the same time, implore mercy for you who robbed me of my prey – I mean my pupil – just as her education was on the point of completion? Oh, where shall I find another?
Carchar:
(suddenly, and with great vehemence) Here! – Here!
Celegorm:
What!!!
Carchar:
(with intense passion) Celegorm, for years I have longed for a huntsman like you with a wormlike passion that is slowly but surely consuming my very vitals! Ah, shrink not from me! If there is aught of Eldar mercy in your heart, turn not away from a eager hound whose every fleabite thrills at your tiniest touch! True it is that, under a poor mask of fierceness, I have endeavoured to conceal a longing whose inner fires are broiling the soul within me! But the fire will not be smothered – it defies all attempts at extinction, and, breaking forth, all the more eagerly for its long restraint, it declares itself in words that will not be weighed – that cannot be schooled – that should not be too severely criticised. Celegorm, do you not realize that a hound such as I must have a huntsman such as you? Master!
Celegorm:
You, whose jaws still reek with the blood of my betrothed, dare to address words of passion to the Noldo you have so foully wronged!
Carchar:
I do – accept my love, or I perish on the spot!
Celegorm:
Go to! Who knows so well as I that no one ever yet died of a broken heart!
Carchar:
You know not what you say. Listen!
He sings, acting out the song with fawning gestures. Celegorm adopts a haughty stance, but is unable to ignore Carchar as the hound rolls more and more dramatically at his feet.
Carchar:
In the shade by a river a little lost pup
Howled, "Aroo, yip-aroo, yip-aroo!"
And I said to him, "Doggie-kin, why howl it up,
Howling, ‘Aroo, yip-aroo, yip-aroo’?"
"Is it weakness of intellect, doggie?" I cried,
"Or a rather tough worm in your little inside?"
With a droop in his poor little tail, he replied,
"Oh, aroo, yip-aroo, yip-aroo!"
He gnawed at his fur, as he laid on the ground,
Howling, "Aroo, yip-aroo, yip-aroo!"
And the clumps of his hair he had chewed all around,
Oh, aroo, yip-aroo, yip-aroo!
He sobbed and he sighed, and a gurgle he gave,
Then he plunged himself into the billowy wave,
And an echo arose from the suicide's grave –
"Oh, aroo, yip-aroo, yip-aroo!"
Now I feel just as sure as I'm sure that my name
Isn't Aroo, yip-aroo, yip-aroo,
That 'twas lack of a master that made him exclaim
"Oh, aroo, yip-aroo, yip-aroo!"
And if you remain callous and obdurate, I
Shall perish as he did, and you will know why,
Though I probably shall not exclaim as I die,
"Oh, aroo, yip-aroo, yip-aroo!"
During this song Celegorm has been greatly affected, and at the end is almost in tears.
Celegorm:
(whimpering) Did he really die alone?
Carchar:
He really did.
Celegorm:
All on account of lacking his huntsman?
Carchar:
Yes.
Celegorm. Poor little pup!
Carchar:
It's an affecting tale, and quite true. I knew the hound intimately.
Celegorm:
Did you? He must have been very loyal.
Carchar:
His devotion was something extraordinary.
Celegorm:
(still whimpering). Poor little pup! And – and if I refuse you, will you go and do the same?
Carchar:
At once.
Celegorm. No, no – you mustn't! Anything but that! (Scratches Celegorm between the ears.) Oh, I'm a foolish old elf!
Carchar:
(leaning into Celegorm’s hand) You are!
Celegorm:
And you won't hate me because I'm just a little teeny weeny wee bit bloodthirsty, will you?
Carchar:
Hate you? Oh, Celegorm! is there not beauty even in bloodthirstiness?
Celegorm. My idea exactly.
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