Heuxos and Lotho ran forth at the sound of Ijim’s voice

Heuxos and Lotho ran forth at the sound of Ijim’s voice, And saw their aged father borne upon his mighty shoulders. Their eloquent tongues were dumb, and sweat stood on their trembling limbs; They knew ’twas vain to strive with Ijim. They bowed and silent stood.

“What, Heuxos! call thy father, for I mean to sport to-night. This is the hypocrite that sometimes roars a dreadful lion; Then I have rent his limbs, and left him rotting in the forest For birds to eat. But I have scarce departed from the place But like a tiger he would come, and so I rent him too. Then like a river he would seek to drown me in his waves, But soon I buffeted the torrent; anon like to a cloud Fraught with the swords of lightning, but I braved the vengeance too.

Then he would creep like a bright serpent, till around my neck While I was sleeping he would twine: I squeezed his poisonous soul. Then like a toad or like a newt would whisper in my ears; Or like a rock stood in my way, or like a poisonous shrub. At last I caught him in the form of Tiriel blind and old, And so I’ll keep him. Fetch your father, fetch forth Myratana.”

They stood confounded, and thus Tiriel raised his silver voice.

“Serpents, not sons, why do you stand? Fetch hither Tiriel, Fetch hither Myratana, and delight yourselves with scoffs; For poor blind Tiriel is returned, and this much-injured head Is ready for your bitter taunts. Come forth, sons of the curse!”

Meantime the other sons of Tiriel ran around their father, Confounded at the terrible strength of Ijim. They knew ’twas vain,

Both spear and shield were useless, and the coat of iron mail, When Ijim stretched his mighty arm; the arrow from his limbs Rebounded, and the piercing sword broke on his naked flesh.

“Then it is true, Heuxos, that thou hast turned thy aged parent To be the sport of wintry winds,” said Ijim: “is this true? It is a lie, and I am like the tree torn by the wind. Thou eyeless fiend and you dissemblers! Is this Tiriel’s house? It is as false as Matha, and as dark as vacant Orcus. Escape, ye fiends, for Ijim will not lift his hand against ye.”

So saying, Ijim gloomy turned his back, and silent sought The secret forests, and all night wandered in desolate ways.

And aged Tiriel stood and said: “Where does the thunder sleep? Where doth he hide his terrible head? and his swift and fiery daughters,

Where do they shroud their fiery wings, and the terrors of their hair? Earth, thus I stamp thy bosom! rouse the earthquake from his den, To raise his dark and burning visage through the cleaving ground, To thrust these towers with his shoulders! Let his fiery dogs Rise from the centre, belching flames and roaring dark smoke! Where art thou, Pestilence, that bathest in fogs and standing lakes? Raise up thy sluggish limbs, and let the loathsomest of poisons Drop from thy garments as thou walkest, wrapped in yellow clouds! Here take thy seat in this wide court; let it be strewn with dead; And sit and smile upon these cursed sons of Tiriel! Thunder, and fire, and pestilence, hear you not Tiriel’s curse?”

He ceased. The heavy clouds confused rolled round the lofty towers, Discharging their enormous voices at the father’s curse. The earth trembled, fires belched from the yawning clefts,

And, when the shaking ceased, a fog possessed the accursed clime.

The cry was great in Tiriel’s palace. His five daughters ran, And caught him by the garments, weeping with cries of bitter woe.

“Ay, now you feel the curse, you cry! but may all ears be deaf As Tiriel’s, and all eyes as blind as Tiriel’s, to your woes! May never stars shine on your roofs, may never sun nor moon Visit you, but eternal fogs hover around your walls!— Hela, my youngest daughter, thou shalt lead me from this place; And let the curse fall on the rest, and wrap them up together!”

He ceased, and Hela led her father from the noisome place. In haste they fled, while all the sons and daughters of Tiriel, Chained in thick darkness, uttered cries of mourning all the night. And in the morning, lo! an hundred men in ghastly death,

The four daughters, stretched on the marble pavement, silent, all Fallen by the pestilence,—the rest moped round in guilty fears; And all the children in their beds were cut off in one night. Thirty of Tiriel’s sons remained, to wither in the palace— Desolate, loathed, dumb, astonished—waiting for black death.

And Hela led her father through the silence of the night, Astonished, silent, till the morning beams began to spring.

“Now, Hela, I can go with pleasure, and dwell with Har and Heva, Now that the curse shall clean devour all those guilty sons. This is the right and ready way; I know it by the sound That our feet make. Remember, Hela, I have saved thee from death; Then be obedient to thy father, for the curse is taken off thee. I dwelt with Myratana five years in the desolate rock; And all that time we waited for the fire to fall from heaven,

Or for the torrents of the sea to overwhelm you all. But now my wife is dead, and all the time of grace is past. You see the parent’s curse. Now lead me where I have commanded.”

“O leagued with evil spirits, thou accursed man of sin,— True, I was born thy slave. Who asked thee to save me from death? ’Twas for thyself, thou cruel man, because thou wantest eyes.”

“True, Hela, this is the desert of all those cruel ones. Is Tiriel cruel? Look! his daughter—and his youngest daughter— Laughs at affection, glories in rebellion, scoffs at love. I have not ate these two days; lead me to Har and Heva’s tent, Or I will wrap thee up in such a terrible father’s curse That thou shalt feel worms in thy marrow creeping through thy bones; Yet thou shalt lead me. Lead me, I command, to Har and Heva.”

“O cruel! O destroyer! O consumer! O avenger! To Har and Heva I will lead thee; then would that they would curse,— Then would they curse as thou hast cursed! But they are not like thee! O, they are holy and forgiving, filled with loving mercy, Forgetting the offences of their most rebellious children, Or else thou wouldest not have lived to curse thy helpless children.”

“Look on my eyes, Hela, and see (for thou hast eyes to see) The tears swell from my stony fountains; wherefore do I weep? Wherefore from my blind orbs art thou not seized with poisonous stings? Laugh, serpent, youngest venomous reptile of the flesh of Tiriel! Laugh, for thy father Tiriel shall give thee cause to laugh, Unless thou lead me to the tent of Har, child of the curse!”