5بخش

Here, that’s my grog.

Sorry.

Ow!

Ooh.

That is beautifully balanced, that is.

Wrap your laughing gear around that, eh?

Good, isn’t it?

That’s why I’m the cook.

WILLIAM: Oh, me guts are grumbling.

I got to snaffle something.

Flesh, I need flesh.

TOP: Ah!

Ah!

Blimey!

Bert.

Bert!

Look what’s come out of me hooter.

It’s got arms and legs and everything.

BERT: What is it?

I don’t know.

But I don’t like the way it wriggles around.

What are you, then?

An oversized squirrel?

I’m a burglar– Uh, Hobbit.

A burglar Hobbit?

Can we cook him?

We can try.

He wouldn’t make more than a mouthful.

Not when he’s skinned and boned.

Perhaps there’s more burglar Hobbits around these parts.

Might be enough for a pie.

Grab him!

TOM: He’s too quick.

WILLIAM: Right.

Come here, you little–

Gotcha.

Are there any more of you little fellas hiding where you shouldn’t?

No.

He’s lying.

No, I’m not!

Hold his toes over the fire.

Make him squeal!

Drop him!

You what?

I said drop him.

WILLIAM: Get the sacks!

Stick them in the sacks!

Ow!

KILI: Come on!

Get up!

Bilbo!

Don’t!

Lay down your arms.. or we’ll rip his off.

NORI: Oh!

That’s hot, that’s hot, that’s hot!

Don’t bother cooking them.

Let’s just sit on them and squash them into jelly.

They should be sautéed and grilled with a sprinkle of sage.

BALIN: ls this really necessary?

That does sound quite nice.

BOMBUR: Untie me, mister.

GLOIN: Eat someone your own size.

WILLIAM: Never mind the seasoning.

We ain’t got all night.

Dawn ain’t far away.

Let’s get a move on.

I don’t fancy being turned to stone.

BILBO: Wait!

You are making a terrible mistake.

You can’t reason with them.

They’re half-wits!

Half-wits?

What does that make us?

I meant with the seasoning.

What about the seasoning?

Well, have you smelt them?

You’re gonna need something stronger than sage before you plate this lot up.

BOMBUR: Traitor!

What do you know about cooking Dwarf?

BERT: Shut up.

Let the flurgaburburhobbit talk.

The secret to cooking Dwarf is.

BERT: Yes?

Come on.

Tell us the secret.

It’s, uh.

Yes, I’m telling you.

The secret is to skin them first.

NORI: What?

Skin us?

Tom, get me filleting knife.

I’ll skin you, you little–!

DWALIN: I won’t forget that.

I won’t forget it.

What a load of rubbish.

I’ve eaten plenty with their skins on.

Scarf them, I say, boots and all.

TOM: He’s right.

Nothing wrong with a bit of raw Dwarf.

Nice and crunchy.

Oh, not that one.

He’s infected.

Huh?

You what?

Yeah, he’s got worms in his tubes.

TOM: Eww!

BOMBUR: Aah!

ln fact, they all have.

They’re infested with parasites.

It’s a terrible business.

I wouldn’t risk it.

I really wouldn’t.

Parasites?

Did he say “parasites”?

We don’t have parasites.

You have parasites!

OIN: What are you talking about, laddie?

I’ve got parasites as big as my arm.

Mine are the biggest parasites.

I’ve got huge parasites.

KILI: We’re riddled.

ORI: Yes, I’m riddled.

Yes, we are, badly.

What would you have us do, then?

Let them all go?

Well.

You think I don’t know what you’re up to?

This little ferret is taking us for fools.

Ferret?

Fools?

GANDALF: The dawn will take you all.

Who’s that?

No idea.

Can we eat him too?

Get your foot out of my back.

Ah.

Where did you go to, if I may ask?

To look ahead.

What brought you back?

Looking behind.

Nasty business.

Still, they’re all in one piece.

No thanks to your burglar.

He had the nous to play for time.

None of the rest of you thought of that.

They must have come down from the Ettenmoors.

THORIN: Since when do Mountain Trolls venture this far south?

Ooh.

Not for an age.

Not since a darker power ruled these lands.

They could not have moved in daylight.

There must be a cave nearby.

NORI: Oh, what’s that stench?

GANDALF: It’s a Troll-hoard.

Be careful what you touch.

Seems a shame just to leave it lying around.

Anyone could take it.

Agreed.

Nori.

NORI: Yeah?

Get a shovel.

These swords were not made by any Troll.

Nor were they made by any smith among Men.

These were forged in Gondolin by the High Elves of the First Age.

You could not wish for a finer blade.

BOFUR: Set it down.

GLOIN: That’s good.

BOFUR: All right, come on.

Quick.

We’re making a long-term deposit.

THORIN: Let’s get out of this foul place.

Come on, let’s go.

Bofur, Gloin, Nori.

GANDALF: Bilbo.

BILBO: Hmm?

Here.

This is about your size.

I can’t take this.

The blade is of Elvish make which means it will glow blue when Orcs or Goblins are nearby.

I have never used a sword in my life.

And I hope you never have to.

But if you do, remember this: True courage is about knowing not when to take a life but when to spare one.

THORIN: Something’s coming!

Gandalf.

GANDALF: Stay together!

Hurry now!

Arm yourselves!

Thieves!

Fire!

Murder!

GANDALF: Radagast.

It’s Radagast the Brown.

Well.

What on earth are you doing here?

I was looking for you, Gandalf.

Something’s wrong.

Something’s terribly wrong.

Yes?

Oh.

Just give me a minute.

Oh.

I had a thought and now I’ve lost it.

lt was right there on the tip of my tongue.

Oh.

It’s not a thought at all.

It’s a silly old stick insect.

The Greenwood is sick, Gandalf.

A darkness has fallen over it.

Nothing grows anymore.

At least, nothing good.

The air is foul with decay.

But worse are the webs.

GANDALF: Webs?

What do you mean?

Spiders, Gandalf.

Giant ones.

Some kind of spawn of Ungoliant, or I am not a Wizard.

I followed their trail.

They came from Dol Guldur.

GANDALF: Huh?

Dol Guldur?

But the old fortress is abandoned.

No, Gandalf.

‘Tis not.

RADAGAST: A dark power dwells in there such as I have never felt before.

lt is the shadow of an ancient horror.

One that can summon the spirits of the dead.

I saw him, Gandalf.

From out of the darkness a Necromancer has come.

NECROMANCER: Radagast.

RADAGAST: Quick!

Quick, quick!

Quick, quick!

Wait for me!

Sorry.

Try a little Old Toby.

It’ll help settle your nerves.

And out.

Now, a Necromancer.

Are you sure?

That is not from the world of the living.