کتاب ششم - فصل 06-02

Then Treebeard said farewell to each of them in turn, and he bowed three times slowly and with great reverence to Celeborn and Galadriel. “It is long, long since we met by stock or by stone, A vanimar, vanimálion nostari!’ he said. “It is sad that we should meet only thus at the ending. For the world is changing: I feel it in the water, I feel it in the earth, and I smell it in the air. I do not think we shall meet again.”

And Celeborn said: “I do not know, Eldest.” But Galadriel said: “Not in Middle-earth, nor until the lands that lie under the wave are lifted up again. Then in the willow-meads of Tasarinan we may meet in the Spring. Farewell!”

Last of all Merry and Pippin said good-bye to the old Ent, and he grew gayer as he looked at them. “Well, my merry folk,” he said, “will you drink another draught with me before you go?”

“Indeed we will,” they said, and he took them aside into the shade of one of the trees, and there they saw that a great stone jar had been set. And Treebeard filled three bowls, and they drank; and they saw his strange eyes looking at them over the rim of his bowl. “Take care take care!” he said. “For you have already grown since I saw you last.” And they laughed and drained their bowls.

“Well, good-bye!” he said. “And don’t forget that if you hear any news of the Entwives in your land, you will send word to me.” Then he waved his great hands to all the company and went off into the trees.

The travellers now rode with more speed, and they made their way towards the Gap of Rohan; and Aragorn took leave of them at last close to that very place where Pippin had looked into the Stone of Orthanc. The Hobbits were grieved at this parting; for Aragorn had never failed them and he had been their guide through many perils.

“I wish we could have a Stone that we could see all our friends in,” said Pippin, “and that we could speak to them from far away!”

“Only one now remains that you could use,” answered Aragorn for you would not wish to see what the Stone of Minas Tirith would show you. But the Palantír of Orthanc the King will keep, to see what is passing in his realm, and what his servants are doing. For do not forget, Peregrin Took, that you are a knight of Gondor, and I do not release you from your service. You are going now on leave, but I may recall you. And remember, dear friends of the Shire, that my realm lies also in the North, and I shall come there one day.”

Then Aragorn took leave of Celeborn and Galadriel; and the Lady said to him: “Elfstone, through darkness you have come to your hope, and have now all your desire. Use well the days!”

But Celeborn said: “Kinsman, farewell! May your doom be other than mine, and your treasure remain with you to the end!”

With that they parted, and it was then the time of sunset; and when after a while they turned and looked back, they saw the King of the West sitting upon his horse with his knights about him; and the falling Sun shone upon them and made all their harness to gleam like red gold, and the white mantle of Aragorn was turned to a flame. Then Aragorn took the green stone and held it up, and there came a green fire from his hand.

Soon the dwindling company, following the Isen, turned west and rode through the Gap into the waste lands beyond, and then they turned northwards, and passed over the borders of Dunland. The Dunlendings fled and hid themselves, for they were afraid of Elvish Folk, though few indeed ever came to their country; but the travellers did not heed them, for they were still a great company and were well provided with all that they needed; and they went on their way at their leisure, setting up their tents when they would.

On the sixth day since their parting from the King they journeyed through a wood climbing down from the hills at the feet of the Misty Mountains that now marched on their right hand. As they came out again into the open country at sundown they overtook an old man leaning on a staff, and he was clothed in rags of grey or dirty white, and at his heels went another beggar, slouching and whining.

“Well Saruman!” said Gandalf. “Where are you going?”

“What is that to you?” he answered. “Will you still order my goings, and are you not content with my ruin?”

“You know the answers,” said Gandalf: “no and no. But in any case the time of my labours now draws to an end. The King has taken on the burden. If you had waited at Orthanc, you would have seen him, and he would have shown you wisdom and mercy.”

“Then all the more reason to have left sooner,” said Saruman; “for I desire neither of him. Indeed if you wish for an answer to your first question, I am seeking a way out of his realm.”

“Then once more you are going the wrong way,” said Gandalf, “and I see no hope in your journey. But will you scorn our help? For we offer it to you.”

“To me?” said Saruman. “Nay, pray do not smile at me! I prefer your frowns. And as for the Lady here, I do not trust her: she always hated me, and schemed for your part. I do not doubt that she has brought you this way to have the pleasure of gloating over my poverty. Had I been warned of your pursuit, I would have denied you the pleasure.”

“Saruman,” said Galadriel, “we have other errands and other cares that seem to us more urgent than hunting for you. Say rather that you are overtaken by good fortune; for now you have a last chance.”

“If it be truly the last, I am glad,” said Saruman; “for I shall be spared the trouble of refusing it again. All my hopes are ruined, but I would not share yours. If you have any.”

For a moment his eyes kindled. “Go!” he said. “I did not spend long study on these matters for naught. You have doomed yourselves, and you know it. And it will afford me some comfort as I wander to think that you pulled down your own house when you destroyed mine. And now, what ship will bear you back across so wide a sea?” he mocked. “It will be a grey ship, and full of ghosts.” He laughed, but his voice was cracked and hideous.

“Get up, you idiot!” he shouted to the other beggar, who had sat down on the ground; and he struck him with his staff. “Turn about! If these fine folk are going our way, then we will take another. Get on, or I’ll give you no crust for your supper!”

The beggar turned and slouched past whimpering: “Poor old Gríma! Poor old Gríma! Always beaten and cursed. How I hate him! I wish I could leave him!”

“Then leave him!” said Gandalf.

But Wormtongue only shot a glance of his bleared eyes full of terror at Gandalf, and then shuffled quickly past behind Saruman. As the wretched pair passed by the company they came to the hobbits, and Saruman stopped and stared at them; but they looked at him with pity.

“So you have come to gloat too, have you, my urchins?” he said. “You don’t care what a beggar lacks, do you? For you have all you want, food and fine clothes, and the best weed for your pipes. Oh yes, I know! I know where it comes from. You would not give a pipeful to a beggar, would you?”

“I would, if I had any,” said Frodo.

“You can have what I have got left,” said Merry, “if you will wait a moment.” He got down and searched in the bag at his saddle. Then he handed to Saruman a leather pouch. “Take what there is,” he said. “You are welcome to it; it came from the flotsam of Isengard.”

“Mine, mine, yes and dearly bought!” cried Saruman, clutching at the pouch. “This is only a repayment in token; for you took more, I’ll be bound. Still, a beggar must be grateful, if a thief returns him even a morsel of his own. Well, it will serve you right when you come home, if you find things less good in the Southfarthing than you would like. Long may your land be short of leaf!”

“Thank you!” said Merry. “In that case I will have my pouch back, which is not yours and has journeyed far with me. Wrap the weed in a rag of your own.”

“One thief deserves another,” said Saruman, and turned his back on Merry, and kicked Wormtongue, and went away towards the wood.

“Well, I like that!” said Pippin. “Thief indeed! What of our claim for waylaying, wounding, and orc-dragging us through Rohan?”

“Ah!” said Sam. “And bought he said. How, I wonder? And I didn’t like the sound of what he said about the Southfarthing. It’s time we got back.”

“I’m sure it is,” said Frodo. “But we can’t go any quicker, if we are to see Bilbo. I am going to Rivendell first, whatever happens.”

“Yes, I think you had better do that,” said Gandalf. “But alas for Saruman! I fear nothing more can be made of him. He has withered altogether. All the same, I am not sure that Treebeard is right: I fancy he could do some mischief still in a small mean way.”

Next day they went on into northern Dunland, where no men now dwelt, though it was a green and pleasant country. September came in with golden days and silver nights, and they rode at ease until they reached the Swanfleet river, and found the old ford, east of the falls where it went down suddenly into the lowlands. Far to the west in a haze lay the meres and eyots through which it wound its way to the Greyflood: there countless swans housed in a land of reeds.

So they passed into Eregion, and at last a fair morning dawned, shimmering above gleaming mists; and looking from their camp on a low hill the travellers saw away in the east the Sun catching three peaks that thrust up into the sky through floating clouds: Caradhras, Celebdil, and Fanuidhol. They were near to the Gates of Moria.

Here now for seven days they tarried, for the time was at hand for another parting which they were loth to make. Soon Celeborn and Galadriel and their folk would turn eastward, and so pass by the Redhorn Gate and down the Dimrill Stair to the Silverlode and to their own country. They had journeyed thus far by the west-ways, for they had much to speak of with Elrond and with Gandalf, and here they lingered still in converse with their friends. Often long after the hobbits were wrapped in sleep they would sit together under the stars, recalling the ages that were gone and all their joys and labours in the world, or holding council, concerning the days to come. If any wanderer had chanced to pass, little would he have seen or heard, and it would have seemed to him only that he saw grey figures, carved in stone, memorials of forgotten things now lost in unpeopled lands. For they did not move or speak with mouth, looking from mind to mind; and only their shining eyes stirred and kindled as their thoughts went to and fro.

But at length all was said, and they parted again for a while, until it was time for the Three Rings to pass away. Quickly fading into the stones and the shadows the grey-cloaked people of Lórien rode towards the mountains; and those who were going to Rivendell sat on the hill and watched, until there came out of the gathering mist a flash; and then they saw no more. Frodo knew that Galadriel had held aloft her ring in token of farewell.

Sam turned away and sighed: “I wish I was going back to Lórien!”

At last one evening they came over the high moors, suddenly as to travellers it always seemed, to the brink of the deep valley of Rivendell and saw far below the lamps shining in Elrond’s house. And they went down and crossed the bridge and came to the doors, and all the house was filled with light and song for joy at Elrond’s homecoming.

First of all, before they had eaten or washed or even shed their cloaks, the hobbits went in search of Bilbo. They found him all alone in his little room. It was littered with papers and pens and pencils; but Bilbo was sitting in a chair before a small bright fire. He looked very old, but peaceful, and sleepy.

He opened his eyes and looked up as they came in. “Hullo, hullo!” he said. “So you’ve come back? And tomorrow’s my birthday, too. How clever of you! Do you know, I shall be one hundred and twenty-nine? And in one year more, if I am spared, I shall equal the Old Took. I should like to beat him; but we shall see.”

After the celebration of Bilbo’s birthday the four hobbits stayed in Rivendell for some days, and they sat much with their old friend, who spent most of his time now in his room, except at meals. For these he was still very punctual as a rule, and he seldom failed to wake up in time for them. Sitting round the fire they told him in turn all that they could remember of their journeys and adventures. At first he pretended to take some notes; but he often fell asleep; and when he woke he would say: “How splendid! How wonderful! But where were we?” Then they went on with the story from the point where he had begun to nod.

The only part that seemed really to rouse him and hold his attention was the account of the crowning and marriage of Aragorn. “I was invited to the wedding of course,” he said. “And I have waited for it long enough. But somehow, when it came to it, I found I had so much to do here; and packing is such a bother.”

When nearly a fortnight had passed Frodo looked out of his window and saw that there had been a frost in the night, and the cobwebs were like white nets. Then suddenly he knew that he must go, and say good-bye to Bilbo. The weather was still calm and fair, after one of the most lovely summers that people could remember; but October had come, and it must break soon and begin to rain and blow again. And there was still a very long way to go. Yet it was not really the thought of the weather that stirred him. He had a feeling that it was time he went back to the Shire. Sam shared it. Only the night before he had said: “Well, Mr. Frodo, we’ve been far and seen a deal, and yet I don’t think we’ve found a better place than this. There’s something of everything here, if you understand me: the Shire and the Golden Wood and Gondor and kings’ houses and inns and meadows and mountains all mixed. And yet, somehow, I feel we ought to be going soon. I’m worried about my gaffer, to tell you the truth.”

“Yes, something of everything, Sam, except the Sea,” Frodo had answered; and he repeated it now to himself: “Except the Sea.”

That day Frodo spoke to Elrond, and it was agreed that they should leave the next morning. To their delight Gandalf said: “I think I shall come too. At least as far as Bree. I want to see Butterbur.”

In the evening they went to say good-bye to Bilbo. “Well, if you must go, you must,” he said. “I am sorry. I shall miss you. It is nice just to know that you are about the place. But I am getting very sleepy.” Then he gave Frodo his mithril-coat and Sting, forgetting that he had already done so; and he gave him also three books of lore that he had made at various times, written in his spidery hand, and labelled on their red backs: Translations from the Elvish, by B.B.

To Sam he gave a little bag of gold. “Almost the last drop of the Smaug vintage,” he said. “May come in useful, if you think of getting married, Sam.” Sam blushed.

“I have nothing much to give to you young fellows,” he said to Merry and Pippin, “except good advice.” And when he had given them a fair sample of this, he added a last item in Shire-fashion: “Don’t let your heads get too big for your hats! But if you don’t finish growing up soon, you are going to find hats and clothes expensive.”

“But if you want to beat the Old Took,” said Pippin, “I don’t see why we shouldn’t try and beat the Bullroarer.”

Bilbo laughed, and he produced out of a pocket two beautiful pipes with pearl mouth-pieces and bound with fine-wrought silver. “Think of me when you smoke them!” he said. “The Elves made them for me, but I don’t smoke now.” And then suddenly he nodded and went to sleep for a little; and when he woke up again he said: “Now where were we? Yes, of course, giving presents. Which reminds me: what’s become of my ring, Frodo, that you took away?”

“I have lost it, Bilbo dear,” said Frodo. “I got rid of it, you know.”

“What a pity!” said Bilbo. “I should have liked to see it again. But no, how silly of me! That’s what you went for, wasn’t it: to get rid of it? But it is all so confusing, for such a lot of other things seem to have got mixed up with it: Aragorn’s affairs, and the White Council and Gondor, and the Horsemen, and Southrons, and oliphaunts - did you really see one, Sam? - and caves and towers and golden trees, and goodness knows what besides.

“I evidently came back by much too straight a road from my trip. I think Gandalf might have shown me round a bit. But then the auction would have been over before I got back, and I should have had even more trouble than I did. Anyway it’s too late now; and really I think it’s much more comfortable to sit here and hear about it all. The fire’s very cosy here, and the food’s very good, and there are Elves when you want them. What more could one want?

The Road goes ever on and on

Out from the door where it began.

Now far ahead the Road has gone,

Let others follow it who can!

Let them a journey new begin,

But I at last with weary feet

Will turn towards the lighted inn,

My evening-rest and sleep to meet.

And as Bilbo murmured the last words his head dropped on his chest and he slept soundly.

The evening deepened in the room, and the firelight burned brighter; and they looked at Bilbo as he slept and saw that his face was smiling. For some time they sat in silence; and then Sam looking round at the room and the shadows flickering on the walls, said softly: “I don’t think, Mr. Frodo, that he’s done much writing while we’ve been away. He won’t ever write our story now.”

At that Bilbo opened an eye, almost as if he had heard. Then he roused himself. “You see, I am getting so sleepy,” he said. “And when I have time to write, I only really like writing poetry. I wonder, Frodo my dear fellow, if you would very much mind tidying things up a bit before you go? Collect all my notes and papers, and my diary too, and take them with you, if you will. You see, I haven’t much time for the selection and the arrangement and all that. Get Sam to help, and when you’ve knocked things into shape, come back, and I’ll run over it. I won’t be too critical.”

“Of course I’ll do it!” said Frodo. “And of course I’ll come back soon: it won’t be dangerous any more. There is a real king now and he will soon put the roads in order.”

“Thank you, my dear fellow!” said Bilbo. “That really is a very great relief to my mind.” And with that he fell fast asleep again.

The next day Gandalf and the hobbits took leave of Bilbo in his room, for it was cold out of doors; and then they said farewell to Elrond and all his household.

As Frodo stood upon the threshold, Elrond wished him a fair journey, and blessed him, and he said:

“I think, Frodo, that maybe you will not need to come back, unless you come very soon. For about this time of the year, when the leaves are gold before they fall, look for Bilbo in the woods of the Shire. I shall be with him.”

These words no one else heard, and Frodo kept them to himself.