The Lord of the Rings-指环王(英文版)-第47部分

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　green　cloth。　For　many　minutes　he　stood　looking　down　at　them　with　a　smile。

Suddenly　Bilbo　looked　up。　'Ah；　there　you　are　at　last；　Dúnadan！'　he　cried。

'Strider！'　said　Frodo。　'You　seem　to　have　a　lot　of　names。'

'Well；　Strider　is　one　that　I　haven't　heard　before；　anyway；'　said　Bilbo。　'What　do　you　call　him　that　for？'

'They　call　me　that　in　Bree；'　said　Strider　laughing；　'and　that　is　how　I　was　introduced　to　him。'

'And　why　do　you　call　him　Dúnadan？'　asked　Frodo。

'The　Dúnadan；'　said　Bilbo。　'He　is　often　called　that　here。　But　I　thought　you　knew　enough　Elvish　at　least　to　know　dúnudan：　Man　of　the　West；　Númenorean。　But　this　is　not　the　time　for　lessons！'　He　turned　to　Strider。

'Where　have　you　been；　my　friend？　Why　weren't　you　at　the　feast？　The　Lady　Arwen　was　there。'

Strider　looked　down　at　Bilbo　gravely。　'I　know；'　he　said。　'But　often　I　must　put　mirth　aside。　Elladan　and　Elrohir　have　returned　out　of　the　Wild　unlookedfor；　and　they　had　tidings　that　I　wished　to　hear　at　once。'

'Well；　my　dear　fellow；'　said　Bilbo；　'now　you've　heard　the　news；　can't　you　spare　me　a　moment？　I　want　your　help　in　something　urgent。　Elrond　says　this　song　of　mine　is　to　be　finished　before　the　end　of　the　evening；　and　I　am　stuck。　Let's　go　off　into　a　corner　and　polish　it　up！'

Strider　smiled。　'e　then！'　he　said。　'Let　me　hear　it！'

Frodo　was　left　to　himself　for　a　while；　for　Sam　had　fallen　asleep。　He　was　alone　and　felt　rather　forlorn’　although　all　about　him　the　folk　of　Rivendell　were　gathered。　But　those　near　him　were　silent；　intent　upon　the　music　of　the　voices　and　the　instruments；　and　they　gave　no　heed　to　anything　else。　Frodo　began　to　listen。

At　first　the　beauty　of　the　melodies　and　of　the　interwoven　words　in　elven　tongues；　even　though　he　understood　them　little’　held　him　in　a　spell；　as　soon　as　he　began　to　attend　to　them。　Almost　it　seemed　that　the　words　took　shape；　and　visions　of　far　lands　and　bright　things　that　he　had　never　yet　imagined　opened　out　before　him；　and　the　firelit　hall　became　like　a　golden　mist　above　seas　of　foam　that　sighed　upon　the　margins　of　the　world。　Then　the　enchantment　became　more　and　more　dreamlike；　until　he　felt　that　an　endless　river　of　swelling　gold　and　silver　was　flowing　over　him；　too　multitudinous　for　its　pattern　to　be　prehended；　it　became　part　of　the　throbbing　air　about　him；　and　it　drenched　and　drowned　him。　Swiftly　he　sank　under　its　shining　weight　into　a　deep　realm　of　sleep。

There　he　wandered　long　in　a　dream　of　music　that　turned　into　running　water；　and　then　suddenly　into　a　voice。　It　seemed　to　be　the　voice　of　Bilbo　chanting　verses。　Faint　at　first　and　then　clearer　ran　the　words。

Edrendil　was　a　mariner
that　tarried　in　Arvernien；
he　built　a　boat　of　timber　felled
in　Nimbrethil　to　journey　in；
her　sails　he　wove　of　silver　fair；
of　silver　were　her　lanterns　made；
her　prow　was　fashioned　like　a　swan；
and　light　upon　her　banners　laid。

In　panoply　of　ancient　kings；
in　chainéd　rings　he　armoured　him；
his　shining　shield　was　scored　with　runes
to　ward　all　wounds　and　harm　from　him；
his　bow　was　made　of　dragonhorn；
his　arrows　shorn　of　ebony；
of　silver　was　his　habergeon；
his　scabbard　of　chalcedony；
his　sword　of　steel　was　valiant；
of　adamant　his　helmet　tall；
an　eagleplume　upon　his　crest；
upon　his　breast　an　emerald。

Beneath　the　Moon　and　under　star
he　wandered　far　from　northern　strands；
bewildered　on　enchanted　ways
beyond　the　days　of　mortal　lands。
From　gnashing　of　the　Narrow　Ice
where　shadow　lies　on　frozen　hills；
from　her　heats　and　burning　waste
he　turned　in　haste；　and　roving　still
on　starless　waters　far　astray
at　last　he　came　to　Night　of　Naught；
and　passed；　and　never　sight　he　saw
of　shining　shore　nor　light　he　sought。

The　winds　of　wrath　came　driving　him；
and　blindly　in　the　foam　he　fled
from　west　to　east　and　errandless；
unheralded　he　homeward　sped。

There　flying　Elwing　came　to　him；
and　flame　was　in　the　darkness　lit；
more　bright　than　light　of　diamond
the　fire　upon　her　carca。
The　Silmaril　she　bound　on　him
and　crowned　him　with　the　living　light
and　dauntless　then　with　burning　brow
he　turned　his　prow；　and　in　the　night
from　Otherworld　beyond　the　Sea
there　strong　and　free　a　storm　arose；
a　wind　of　power　in　Tarmenel；
by　paths　that　seldom　mortal　goes
his　boat　it　bore　with　biting　breath
as　might　of　death　across　the　grey
and　longforsaken　seas　distressed：
from　east　to　west　he　passed　away。

Through　Evernight　he　back　was　borne
on　black　and　roaring　waves　that　ran
o'er　leagues　unlit　and　foundered　shores
that　drowned　before　the　Days　began；
until　he　heard　on　strands　of　pearl
when　ends　the　world　the　music　long；
where　ever　foaming　billows　roll
the　yellow　gold　and　jewels　wan。
He　saw　the　Mountain　silent　rise
where　twilight　lies　upon　the　knees
of　Valinor；　and　Eldamar
beheld　afar　beyond　the　seas。
A　wanderer　escaped　from　night
to　haven　white　he　came　at　last；
to　Elvenhome　the　green　and　fair
where　keen　the　air；　where　pale　as　glass
beneath　the　Hill　of　Ilmarin
aglimmer　in　a　valley　sheer
the　lamplit　towers　of　Tirion
are　mirrored　on　the　Shadowmere。

He　tarried　there　from　errantry；
and　melodies　they　taught　to　him；
and　sages　old　him　marvels　told；
and　harps　of　gold　they　brought　to　him。
They　clothed　him　then　in　elvenwhite；
and　seven　lights　before　him　sent；
as　through　the　Calacirian
to　hidden　land　forlorn　he　went。
He　came　unto　the　timeless　halls
where　shining　fall　the　countless　years；
and　endless　reigns　theElder　King
in　Ilmarin　on　Mountain　sheer；
and　words　unheard　were　spoken　then
of　folk　of　Men　and　Elvenkin；
beyond　the　world　were　visions　showed
forbid　to　those　that　dwell　therein。

A　ship　then　new　they　built　for　him
of　mithril　and　of　elvenglass
with　shining　prow；　no　shaven　oar
nor　sail　she　bore　on　silver　mast：
the　Silmaril　as　lantern　light
and　banner　bright　with　living　flame
to　gleam　thereon　by　Elbereth
herself　was　set；　who　thither　came
and　wings　immortal　made　for　him；
and　laid　on　him　undying　doom；
to　sail　the　shoreless　skies　and　e
behind　the　Sun　and　light　of　Moon。

From　Evereven's　lofty　hills
where　softly　silver　fountains　fall
his　wings　him　bore；　a　wandering　light；
beyond　the　mighty　Mountain　Wall。
From　World's　End　then　he　turned　away
and　yearned　again　to　find　afar
his　home　through　shadows　journeying；
and　burning　as　an　island　star
on　high　above　the　mists　he　came；
a　distant　flame　before　the　Sun；
a　wonder　ere　the　waking　dawn
where　grey　the　Norland　waters　run。

And　over　Middleearth　he　passed
and　heard　at　last　the　weeping　sore
of　women　and　of　elvenmaids
in　Elder　Days；　in　years　of　yore。
gut　on　him　mighty　doom　was　laid；
till　Moon　should　fade；　an　orbéd　star
to　pass；　and　tarry　never　more
on　Hither　Shores　where　mortals　are；
for　ever　still　a　herald　on
an　errand　that　should　never　rest
to　bear　his　shining　lamp　afar；
the　Flammifer　of　Westernesse。

The　chanting　ceased。　Frodo　opened　his　eyes　and　saw　that　Bilbo　was　seated　on　his　stool　in　a　circle　of　listeners；　who　were　smiling　and　applauding。

'Now　we　had　better　have　it　again；'　said　an　Elf。

Bilbo　got　up　and　bowed。　'I　am　flattered；　Lindir；'　he　said。　'But　it　would　be　too　tiring　to　repeat　it　all。'

'Not　too　tiring　for　you；'　the　Elves　answered　laughing。　'You　know　you　are　never　tired　of　reciting　your　own　verses。　But　really　we　cannot　answer　your　question　at　one　hearing！'

'What！'　cried　Bilbo。　'You　can't　tell　which　parts　were　mine；　and　which　were　the　Dúnadan's？'

'It　is　not　easy　for　us　to　tell　the　difference　between　two　mortals'　said　the　Elf。

'Nonsense；　Lindir；'　snorted　Bilbo。　'If　you　can't　distinguish　between　a　Man　and　a　Hobbit；　your　judgement　is　poorer　than　I　imagined。　They're　as　different　as　peas　and　apples。'

'Maybe。　To　sheep　other　sheep　no　doubt　appear　different；'　laughed　Lindir。　'Or　to　shepherds。　But　Mortals　have　not　been　our　study。　We　have　other　business。'

'I　won't　argue　with　you；'　said　Bilbo。　'I　am　sleepy　after　so　much　music　and　singing。　I'll　leave　you　to　guess；　if　you　want　to。'

He　got　up　and　came　towards　Frodo。　'Well；　that's　over；'　he　said　in　a　low　voice。　'It　went　off　better　than　I　expected。　I　don't　often　get　asked　for　a　second　hearing。　What　did　you　think　of　it？'

'I　am　not　going　to　try　and　guess；'　said　Frodo　smiling。

'You　needn't；'　said　Bilbo。　'As　a　matter　of　fact　it　was　all　mine。　Except　that　Aragorn　insisted　on　my　putting　in　a　green　stone。　He　seemed　to　think　it　important。　I　don't　know　why。　Otherwise　he　obviously　thought　the　whole　thing　rather　above　my　head；　and　he　said　that　if　I　had　the　cheek　to　make　verses　about　E。rendil　in　the　house　of　Elrond；　it　was　my　affair。　I　suppose　he　was　right。'

'I　don't　know；'　said　Frodo。　'It　seemed　to　me　to　fit　somehow；　though　I　can't　explain。　I　was　half　asleep　when　you　began；　and　it　seemed　to　follow　on　from　something　that　I　was　dreaming　about。　I　didn't　understand　that　it　was　really　you　speaking　until　near　the　end。'

'It　is　difficult　to　keep　awake　here；　until　you　get　used　to　it；'　said　Bilbo。　'Not　that　hobbits　would　ever　acquire　quite　the　elvish　appetite　for　music　and　poetry　and　tales。　They　seem　to　like　them　as　much　as　food；　or　more。　They　will　be　going　on　for　a　long　time　yet。　What　do　you　say　to　slipping　off　for　some　more　quiet　talk？'

'Can　we？'　said　Frodo。

'Of　course。　This　is　merrymaking　not　business。　e　and　go　as　you　like；　as　long　as　you　don't　make　a　noise。'

They　got　up　and　withdrew　quietly　into　the　shadows；　and　made　for　the　doors。　Sam　they　left　behind；　fast　asleep　still　with　a　smile　on　his　face。　In　spite　of　his　delight　in　Bilbo's　pany　Frodo　felt　a　tug　of　regret　as　they　passed　out　of　the　Hall　of　Fire。　Even　as　they　stepped　over　the　threshold　a　single　clear　voice　rose　in　song。

A　Elbereth　Gilthoniel；
silivren　penna　míriel
o　menel　aglar　elenath！
Nachaered　palandíriel
o　galadhremmin　ennorath；
Fanuilos；　le　linnathon
nef　aear；　sí　nef　aearon！

Frodo　halted　for　a　moment；　looking　back。　Elrond　was　in　his　chair　and　the　fire　was　on　his　face　like　summerlight　upon　the　trees。　Near　him　sat　the　Lady　Arwen。　To　his　surprise　Frodo　saw　that　Aragorn　stood　beside　her；　his　dark　cloak　was　thrown　back；　and　he　seemed　to　be　clad　in　elvenmail；　and　a　star　shone　on　his　breast。　They　spoke　together；　and　then　suddenly　it　seemed　to　Frodo　that　Arwen　turned　towards　him；　and　the　light　of　her　eyes　fell　on　him　from　afar　and　pierced　his　heart。

He　stood　still　enchanted；　while　the　sweet　syllables　of　the　elvish　song　fell　like　clear　jewels　of　blended　word　and　melody。　'It　is　a　song　to　Elbereth；'　said　Bilbo。　'They　will　sing　that；　and　other　songs　of　the　Blessed　Realm；　many　times　tonight。　e　on！'

He　led　Frodo　back　to　his　own　little　room。　It　opened　on　to　the　gar　dens　and　looked　south　across　the　ravine　of　the　Bruinen。　There　they　sat　for　some　while；　looking　through　the　window　at　the　bright　stars　above　the　steepclimbing　woods；　and　talking　softly。　They　spoke　no　more　of　the　small　news　of　the　Shire　far　away；　nor　of　the　dark　shadows　and　perils　that　enpassed　them；　but　of　the　fair　things　they　had　seen　in　the　world　together；　of　the　Elves；　of　the　stars；　of　trees；　and　the　gentle　fall　of　the　bright　year　in　the　woods。

At　last　there　came　a　knock　on　the　door。　'Begging　your　pardon；'　said　Sam；　putting　in　his　head；　'but　I　was　just　wondering　if　you　would　be　wanting　anything。'

'And　begging　yours；　Sam　Gamgee；'　replied　Bilbo。　'I　guess　you　mean　that　it　is　time　your　master　went　to　bed。'

'Well；　sir；　there　is　a　C