Tolkien and Old English

1
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

2
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.

3
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.

4
The Dragon of Beowulf

• Then an old harrower of the dark
• happened to find the hoard open,
• the burning one who hunts out barrows,
• the slick-skinned dragon, threatening the night
  sky
• with streamers of fire. He is driven to hunt out
• hoards under ground, to guard heathen gold
• through age-long vigils, though to little avail.
• For three centuries, this scourge of the people
• had stood guard on that stoutly protected

• underground treasury, until the intruder
• unleashed its fury he hurried to his lord
• with the gold-plated cup and made his plea
• to be reinstated. . .
• When the dragon awoke, trouble flared again.
• He rippled down the rock, writing with anger
• when he saw the footprints of the prowler who had
  stole
• too close to his dreaming head.
• --Seamus Heaney translation

5
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.

6
Gimlis Lament

• There hammer on the anvil smote,
• There chisel clove, and graver wrote
• There forged was blade, and bound was hilt
• The delver mined, the mason built.
• There beryl, pearl, and opal pale,
• And metal wrought like fishes mail,
• Buckler and corselet, axe and sword,
• And shining spears were laid in hoard.

• Unwearied then were Durins folk
• Beneath the mountains music woke
• The harpers harped, the minstrels sang,
• And at the gates the trumpets rang.
• The world is grey, the mountains old,
• The forges fire is ashen-cold
• No harp is wrung, no hammer falls
• The darkness dwells in Durins halls
• --from The Fellowship of the Ring

7
The Lay of the Last Survivor

• Now, earth, hold what earls once held
• and heroes can no more it was mined from you
  first
• by honorable men. My own people
• have been ruined in war one by one
• they went down to death, looked their last
• on sweet life in the hall. I am left with nobody
• to bear a sword or burnish plated goblets,
• put a sheen on the cup. The companies have
  departed.
• The hard helmet, hasped with gold,
• will be stripped of its hoops and the
  helmet-shiner
• who should polish the metal of the war-mask
  sleeps

• the coat of mail that came through all fights,
• through shield collapse and cut of sword,
• decays with the warrior. Nor may webbed mail
• Range far and wide on the warlords back
• beside his mustered troops. No trembling harp,
• no tuned timber, no tumbling hawk
• swerving through the hall, no swift horse
• pawing the courtyard. Pillage and slaughter
• have emptied the earth of entire peoples.

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The Real Lay of the Last Survivor

• "Heald þu nu, hruse, nu hæleð ne moston,
• eorla æhte! Hwæt, hyt ær on ðe
• gode begeaton. Guðdeað fornam,
• feorhbealo frecne, fyra gehwylcne
• leoda minra, þara ðe þis lif ofgeaf,
• gesawon seledream. Ic nah hwa sweord wege
• oððe feormie fæted wæge,
• dryncfæt deore duguð ellor sceoc.
• Sceal se hearda helm hyrsted golde
• fætum befeallen feormynd swefað,
• þa ðe beadogriman bywan sceoldon,

• ge swylce seo herepad, sio æt hilde gebad
• ofer borda gebræc bite irena,
• brosnað æfter beorne. Ne mæg byrnan hring
• æfter wigfruman wide feran,
• hæleðum be healfe. Næs hearpan wyn,
• gomen gleobeames, ne god hafoc
• geond sæl swingeð, ne se swifta mearh
• burhstede beateð. Bealocwealm hafað
• fela feorhcynna forð onsended!"