SCENE II.
Enter FINGOLFIN, FINROD and another elf.
Fingolfin: ...but Fëanor was told off just as me;
and I think he will keep the peace this time.
Finrod: It is a pity you can't get along.
Now, uncle, about what I said before...
Fingolfin: I have already told you what I think:
my daughter's a bit young for marriage yet.
Finrod: Plenty of girls are married at her age.
Fingolfin: You have a point, but still I hesitate.
She is the only daughter that I have,
and loth I am to give her hand away.
But court her, Finrod, that much I permit,
and when her love for you she does admit,
your wedding I will happily condone;
for her joy's more important than my own.
Now, I'm holding a feast this very night,
and your attendance would be a delight.
All Tirion's fair maidens will be there,
and you shall see them all; contrast, compare -
perhaps like my child best, or else perchance
some other beauty will your heart entrance.
[to the other elf, giving him a paper]
These are the people I wish to invite
to come to supper at my house tonight.
Exeunt FINGOLFIN and FINROD.
Other elf: Find them out whose names are written here! Well, well, let's see...
[looks at paper] What's this? I can't read these new-fangled Tengwar! What was wrong with Rúmil's letters, I'd like to know! Now what am I going to do?
Enter CELEGORM and MAEDHROS.
Maedhros: See, even as the light of one tree grows,
the other fades to nothing; ancient woes
are soon forgotten when new pains arise -
look for another love, that's my advice.
Celegorm: Belladonna is excellent for that.
Maedhros: For what?
Celegorm: For making you stop talking.
Maedhros: What? Celegorm, are you mad?
Celegorm: No, I am the cause of madness in other people.
[To the other elf] Good-day.
Other elf: Good-day to you too. Say, can you read?
Celegorm: If there are letters, I can read them; otherwise, I suggest you ask my fair cousin instead.
Other elf: I have a letter here...
Celegorm: A letter? Only one? One letter doesn't make for much reading.
Other elf: Forget I mentioned it; I'll ask someone else.
Celegorm: No, stay, I'll read it for you.
[Reads] "My brother Finarfin and his wife; my lady mother; Ecthelion and his lovely daughters; Angrod and his brother Aegnor; my fair niece Galadriel; Aranwë; my sons Fingon, Turgon and Argon; Rúmil, his wife and daughters..." A fair assembly; whither should they come?
Other elf: To supper.
Celegorm: Where?
Other elf: At our house.
Celegorm: Whose house?
Other elf: My lord's.
Celegorm: Fair enough, forget I mentioned it.
Other elf: No, stay, I'll tell you: my lord is the noble Fingolfin; and if you aren't followers of Fëanor, you too are welcome to the feast. Farewell!
Exeunt other elf.
Maedhros: What a coincidence! At this same feast
Galadriel, the object of your love,
will be, along with many other maids.
Go there, and I am sure that you will see
that there are other girls as fair as she.
Celegorm: And I am just as sure that you are wrong;
from the first moment of the Ainur's song,
until the world's end there's not, will not be,
has never been a maid as fair as she.
Maedhros: Now, Celegorm, you know that's hyperbole.
Stop milking this "distressed dogged lover"-role.
You'll go with me to Fingolfin's tonight,
and soon you'll see things in another light.
Celegorm: You're wrong, but I'll go with you nonetheless;
to see my love's enough of happiness.
