Two minor matters in the conclusion of the tale remain to be noticed. Here Nornorл is the Herald of the Gods; afterwards this was Fionwл (later Eonwл), see p. 63. And in the reference to ‘that low place amid the hills where Valinor may just be glimpsed’, near to Taniquetil, we have the first mention of the gap in the Mountains of Valinor where was the hill of the city of the Elves.

On blank pages near the end of the text of this tale my father wrote a list of secondary names of the Valar (as Manwл Sъlimo, etc.). Some of these names appear in the text of the Tales; those that do not are given in the Appendix on Names under the primary names. It emerges from this list that Уmar-Amillo is the twin of Salmar-Noldorin (they are named as brothers in the tale, p. 75); that Nielнqui (p. 75) is the daughter of Oromл and Vбna; and that Melko has a son (‘by Ulbandi’) called Kosomot: this, it will emerge later, was Gothmog Lord of Balrogs, whom Ecthelion slew in Gondolin.

IV

THE CHAINING OF MELKO

Following the end of Rъmil’s tale of The Coming of the Valar and the Building of Valinor there is a long interlude before the next one, though the manuscript continues without even interrupting the paragraph. But on the cover of the notebook The Chaining of Melko is given as a separate title, and I have adopted this. The text continues in ink over an erased pencil manuscript.

That night Eriol heard again in his sleep the music that had so moved him on the first night; and the next morning he went again into the gardens early. There he met Vairл, and she called him Eriol: ‘that was the first making and uttering of that name’. Eriol told Vairл of the ‘dream-musics’ he had heard, and she said that it was no dream-music, but rather the flute of Timpinen, ‘whom those Gnomes Rъmil and Littleheart and others of my house call Tinfang’. She told him that the children called him Tinfang Warble; and that he played and danced in summer dusks for joy of the first stars: ‘at every note a new one sparkles forth and glisters. The Noldoli say that they come out too soon if Tinfang Warble plays, and they love him, and the children will watch often from the windows lest he tread the shadowy lawns unseen.’ She told Eriol that he was ‘shier than a fawn—swift to hide and dart away as any vole: a footstep on a twig and he is away, and his fluting will come mocking from afar’.

‘And a marvel of wizardry liveth in that fluting,’ said Eriol, ‘if that it be indeed which I have heard now for two nights here.’

‘There be none,’ said Vairл, ‘not even of the Solosimpi, who can rival him therein, albeit those same pipers claim him as their kin; yet ’tis said everywhere that this quaint spirit is neither wholly of the Valar nor of the Eldar, but is half a fay of the woods and dells, one of the great companies of the children of Palъrien, and half a Gnome or a Shoreland Piper.¹ Howso that be he is a wondrous wise and strange creature, and he fared hither away with the Eldar long ago, marching nor resting among them but going always ahead piping strangely or whiles sitting aloof. Now does he play about the gardens of the land; but Alalminуrл he loves the best, and this garden best of all. Ever and again we miss his piping for long months, and we say: “Tinfang Warble has gone heart-breaking in1 the Great Lands, and many a one in those far regions will hear his piping in the dusk outside tonight.” But on a sudden will his flute be heard again at an hour of gentle gloaming, or will he play beneath a goodly moon and the stars go bright and blue.’

‘Aye,’ said Eriol, ‘and the hearts of those that hear him go beating with a quickened longing. Meseemed ’twas my desire to open the window and leap forth, so sweet was the air that came to me from without, nor might I drink deep enough, but as I listened I wished to follow I know not whom, I know not whither, out into the magic of the world beneath the stars.’

‘Then of a sooth ’twas Timpinen who played to you,’ said Vairл, ‘and honoured are you, for this garden has been empty of his melody many a night. Now, however, for such is the eeriness of that sprite, you will ever love the evenings of summer and the nights of stars, and their magic will cause your heart to ache unquenchably.’

‘But have you not all heard him many times and often, that dwell here,’ said Eriol, ‘yet do not seem to me like those who live with a longing that is half understood and may not be fulfilled.’

‘Nor do we so, for we have limpл,’ said she, ‘limpл that alone can cure, and a draught of it giveth a heart to fathom all music and song.’

‘Then,’ said Eriol, ‘would I might drain a goblet of that good drink’ but Vairл told him that that might only be if he sought out Meril the queen.

Of this converse of Eriol and Vairл upon the lawn that fair day-tide came it that Eriol set out not many days thereafter—and Tinfang Warble had played to him many times by dusk, by starry light and moongleam, till his heart was full. In that was Littleheart his guide, and he sought the dwellings of Meril-i-Turinqui in her korin of elms.

Now the house of that fair lady was in that very city, for at the foot of the great tower which Ingil had built was a wide grove of the most ancient and beautiful elms that all that Land of Elms possessed. High to heaven they rose in three lessening storeys of bright foliage, and the sunlight that filtered through was very cool—a golden green. Amidst of these was a great green sward of grass smooth as a web of stuffs, and about it those trees stood in a circle, so that shades were heavy at its edge but the gaze of the sun fell all day on its middle. There stood a beautiful house, and it was builded all of white and of a whiteness that shone, but its roof was so o’ergrown with mosses and with houseleek and many curious clinging plants that of what it was once fashioned might not be seen for the glorious maze of colours, golds and red-russets, scarlets and greens.

Innumerable birds chattered in its eaves; and some sang upon the housetops, while doves and pigeons circled in flights about the korin’s borders or swooped to settle and sun upon the sward. Now all that dwelling was footed in flowers. Blossomy clusters were about it, ropes and tangles, spikes and tassels all in bloom, flowers in panicles and umbels or with great wide faces gazing at the sun. There did they loose upon the faintly stirring airs their several odours blended to a great fragrance of exceeding marvellous enchantment, but their hues and colours were scattered and gathered seemingly as chance and the happiness of their growth directed them. All day long there went a hum of bees among those flowers: bees fared about the roof and all the scented beds and ways; even about the cool porches of the house. Now Littleheart and Eriol climbed the hill and it was late afternoon, and the sun shone brazen upon the weste1rn side of Ingilв™ tower. Soon came they to a mighty wall of hewn stone blocks, and this leaned outward, but grasses grew atop of it, and harebells, and yellow daisies.

A wicket they found in the wall, and beyond was a glade beneath the elms, and there ran a pathway bordered of one side with bushes while of the other flowed a little running water whispering over a brown bed of leafy mould. This led even to the swardв™ edge, and coming thither said Littleheart pointing to that white house: вehold the dwelling of Meril-i-Turinqui, and as I have no errand with so great a lady I will get me back again.в™Then Eriol went over the sunny lawn alone until he was nigh shoulder-high in the tall flowers that grew before the porches of the door; and as he drew near a sound of music came to him, and a fair lady amid many maidens stepped forth as it were to meet him. Then said she smiling: вelcome, O mariner of many seasв”herefore do you seek the pleasure of my quiet gardens and their gentle noise, when the salt breezes of the sea and the snuff of winds and a swaying boat should rather be your joy?в™/p>