BBC The Lord of the Rings: Episode 2 - The Black Riders

Gandalf receives a message from the eagle Gwaihir about dark tidings: wolves and orcs are gathering, and the Nine Riders are active. Gandalf reveals that Saruman has turned against them and seeks power for himself. Gwaihir offers to carry Gandalf to Edoras, where the king of Rohan resides. Gandalf seeks aid from the Rohirrim against the rising enemy in Mordor. Meanwhile, the black riders search for Gandalf and interrogate a hobbit about the location of Bag End. Frodo, Pippin, and Sam set off on their journey and encounter the Brandywine River. Frodo recites a poem about the road ahead. The Lord of the Rings by J.R.R. Tolkien prepared for radio in 13 episodes by Brian Sibley with Ian Holm, Michael Horton and Robert Seasons Episode 2 Adapted by Brian Sibley The Black Riders Gandalf! Gwaijir! Windlord, swiftest of all eagles! Why come you here? I am sent to Orthanc with a message of import. What message, Gwaijir? Dark tidings, Gandalf. Wolves are gathering, orcs are mustering and the Nine Riders go hither and thither in the lands. The eagles of the mountains have seen these things and learned also that the golem creature has escaped from the elves' captivity. How did you know where to seek me? Radagast the Brown told us to bring whatever news we saw or heard to you at Isengard. Ah, then Radagast is not a traitor. I was bid by Radagast to seek both Gandalf the Grey and Taram and the White at Orthanc. Why find I Gandalf alone upon this perilous height? And why speak you of traitors? For two months I've been imprisoned as a fly in the web of a treacherous spider, Gwaijir. Saruman? Saruman is no longer Saruman the White. He is now Saruman of many colors. He seeks either to join forces with the Dark Lord of Mordor or to find for himself sufficient power to rule in his stead. This is indeed evil news, Gandalf. So it is, Gwaijir. But even the most subtle spider may leave a weak thread. Radagast he called a simpleton and a fool. Radagast the Bird-Tamer he named him. But because of Radagast, Gwaijir the Windlord has come to me in my darkest hour. No mortal tames the eagles of the mountains, not even Radagast or Gandalf. But I will carry you to freedom since I do not wish to serve any Saruman of many colors. Take hold of my talons. Be a king, Gandalf. I must fly with great speed. How far can you carry me? Any league. But not to the ends of the earth. I was sent to bear tidings of burden. Then I must have a steed on land and a steed surpassing swift. I have never had need of such agents before. Then I will bear you to Edorak where the Lord of Rohan sits in his halls. For that is not very far off. And there are no horses like those that are bred by the Rohirrim, the horse lords of Rohan. Gwaijir the Windlord carried Gandalf to Edoras in the land of Rohan to the halls of Feodan, king of the Mark. Hail Feodan, son of Pengil. Why comes Gandalf the Grey unlooked for to my halls? I have come to seek the aid of the Rohirrim and their king. I have never heard before that Gandalf sought the aid of any man. Storm clouds are gathering, Feodan. And when the storm breaks, nowhere in Middle-earth will be safe from its fury. Not even Feodan's halls. I know not what storm you speak of, wandering wizard. Then you know not of the rise of the enemy in Mordor or of the treachery of Saruman the White? Ah, faithful counsellor. What say you of Gandalf Stormcrow's words? I say Saruman is our ally against the dark lord of Mordor, King Feodan. And we should not parley with any who call him traitor. It is, I believe, as Grima says. Rohan has no welcome for the warmonger. I seek not war, Feodan. But if it comes, others than I will draw its bloody sword in Rohan. But if you will not help me, then at least lend me a steed that I may ride elsewhere in search of aid. Very well, Gandalf. Take a horse and be gone. Gandalf strode from Feodan's golden hall and went in search of a steed to carry him back to the shire. And at Isengard, Saruman was suddenly faced with another unexpected turn of events. Come forth, Saruman, that we may speak with thee. Who calls thus on Saruman in such rude fashion? I am the lord of the Nazgul, servant of Sauron the Great. What seek you here? We seek knowledge, Saruman. Knowledge of how we may find that part of Middle-earth which is known as the Land of the Halflings. It is not a land that you look for. I know what you seek there, you do not name it. I have it not, as surely its servants perceive without telling. But if I had it, then you would bow before me and call me lord. I know nothing of this thing or of the land you seek. There is one only whom I guess to have this knowledge. Who? Mithrandir, he whom some call Gandalf. Gandalf the Great. And it is but two days since this enemy of Sauron departed from Isengard. Seek him nearby. Seek him we shall, Saruman. Come! But as the black riders of Mordor rode in search of Gandalf, they came upon another. Halt! Who rides there? I am Dreamer, and I ride in haste, my lord. Do not delay me. Why? What is your haste, and where are you bound? For Isengard, lord. Wherefore? I carry certain news to Saruman. What news? That Mithrandir has sought to counsel King Théoden against both Saruman and Sauron. Where is Mithrandir now? He seeks only a horse to return him to the land of the halflings. Know you of this land? Speak or die! Where is this land? Surely, I will speak as swiftly as I may. West, through the gap of Roan yonder, and then north and a little west. The Shire, they call it. Come, ride of the Mordor. We will divide our company. Some to find this land and search it. Some to seek Mithrandir. Come, away! As the black riders rode away westward, Gandalf found on the plains of Roan a horse suited to his needs. A horse that might have been sold in the morning of the world. Light was his footfall, and swift as the flowing wind was he. By day his coat glistened like silver, and by night it was like a shade, so that he passed unseen. Shadowfax, they called him. Never before had any man mounted him, but Gandalf took him and tamed him, and swiftly he bore Gandalf north. Come, Shadowfax, we must hasten. Time is short. So Gandalf rode north on Shadowfax. While in the Shire, Frodo, not knowing what had delayed his friend, decided he would wait no longer. Well, Merry, is everything ready? Yes. Two cartloads yesterday, full to overflowing, and now another one. I'm beginning to wonder if your new home will be big enough. Well, I've sold everything I could bear parting with to Lobelia, but some things I just had to take to remind me of Bag End and Bilbo. Well, I'd best be off. If I leave now, I can get to Crickhollow and warm the house before you arrive. That's if you're quite sure you want to walk rather than go by cart. Quite sure. Then I'll see you the day after tomorrow, if you don't go to sleep on the way. I'll try not to. I'll tell you one thing, Frodo. You had better settle when you get back to the Bucklands, because I, for one, am not helping you to move back again. What on earth makes you think Lobelia would ever sell Bag End back to me? Oh, she might, at a profit. Farewell, Frodo, and good walking. Poor Merry. What will you say when you learn the truth about all this? As the sun went down, Frodo, Pippin and Sam sat in the kitchen at Bag End. Our last meal at Bag End. Sam and I will wash up if you want to have a last look round. Thank you, Pippin, but I think we'll leave the washing up for Lobelia. I've already taken a last look round. Everywhere looks so sad and gloomy and dishevelled. So, we might as well start. Our packs are already in the porch, Mr. Frodo. Well done, Sam. It looks as though it's going to be a fine night. Well, that's good for a beginning. I wish I knew what was delaying Gandalf. Anyway, I must start and he must follow. Well, goodbye, dear old Bag End. Well then, we're off at last. Haven't you got a song for the occasion? Well, yes, there's one that might suit. Upon the Hearth? Yes. Upon the hearth the fire is red. Beneath the roof there is a bed. But not yet weary are our feet. Still round the corner we may meet A sudden tree or standing stone That none have seen but we alone. Tree and flower and leaf and grass Let them pass, oh, let them pass. The hobbits had scarcely gone when a dark and sinister hooded rider rode up Bagshot Row and arrived at Gaffer Gamgee's home. Yes? Who's there? Who is it? What do you want at this time of night? Bag End. I'm looking for Bag End. Where is Bag End? What's Mr. Bag End's business to do with you? A friend of his is looking for him. Well, you don't look like any friend of Mr. Bag End's as I've ever seen. Answer my question. Where is Bag End? There's no one at his house. Why? Well, for a good reason. Mr. Bag End has gone away. Where did Bag End go? That ain't no secret. He's moved to Crick Hollow or some such place. A way down yonder. Is it far? Yes, it is a tidy way. I've never been so far myself. There are queer folk down there. If you see him, you'll give him a message from me. I'm not taking no orders from you nor no one. Not even if you are a friend of Mr. Bag End's, which I doubt. Now, good night to you. After they'd been walking for about three hours, Freddo, Pippin and Sam made camp in the deep resin-scented darkness of a patch of firwood. Night passed. And the morning came. Pale and clammy. Walking for pleasure. Why didn't I go by cart with Mary? My neck's stiff and I feel as though I have a hole in my back. And all my beautiful feather beds sold to the fateful Bag Ends. These tree roots will do them good. Wake up, hobbits. It's a beautiful morning. Oh, what's beautiful about it? Sam, get breakfast ready for half-past nine. Have you got the bathwater, Hobbit? No, no, sir, I haven't. It's all right, Sam. What? Mr. Pippin is pulling your leg. Come on, Pippin, up you get. You can help Sam get breakfast. We must get started. I've never been this near the end of the shire before, Mr. Poe. What river is that down there? That's the Brandywine, sir. And do elves live in those woods over there? Near the end? No, not that I ever heard. Oh, this road goes on forever. When are we going to rest, Frodo? Frodo? The road goes ever on and on, down from the door where it began. Now, far ahead, the road has gone, and I must follow if I can, pursuing it with eager feet until it joins some larger way where many paths and errands meet. And whither then I cannot say. That sounds like a bit of old Bilbo's rhyming. Or is it one of your imitations? Hmm? I don't know. It came to me then as if... as if I was making it up. I may have heard it long ago. In any event, it doesn't sound altogether encouraging. No, I suppose not. Hmm. Bilbo often used to say there was only one road, that it was like a great river. Its springs were at every doorstep, and every path was its tributary. It's a dangerous business going out of your door, he used to say. You step into a road, and if you don't keep your feet, there is no knowing where you might be swept off to. Well, this road won't sweep me anywhere for an hour at least. It's time for a rest, and if you fellas won't wait, well, then you must go on without me. Farewell we call to hearth and hall. The wind may blow and rain may fall. We must away... Oh, beg your pardon, Mr. Furrow. I can hear a pony or a horse coming along the road behind. I wonder if that's Gandalf coming after us. It may not matter much, but I would rather not be seen on the road by anyone. I'm sick of my doing being noticed and discussed, and if it is Gandalf, we can give him a little surprise to pay him out for being so late. Let's get out of sight. One ring to rule them all. One ring to find them all. One ring to bring them all. And in the darkness, we will find them all. This is the Master Ring. The one ring to rule them all. This is the one ring to bring them all. The one ring to rule them all. This is the one ring lost many years ago to the great weakening of its maker's power. Now, he greatly desires to have it again, but he must not get it. The ring. The ring. Put on the ring. Remember what I said about the ring. Keep it safe and keep it secret. Who was it? I don't know. What did you see, Mr. Bruno? It was a man, I think, wrapped in a black cloak and hood so that his face was shadowed and invisible. All I could see was his boots in the high stirrups. What was he looking for? I can't say why, but I feel certain he was looking for... or smelling for me. Yes, and I feel certain that I did not want him to discover me. I have never seen or felt anything like it in the Shire before. But what has one of the big people got to do with us? And what is he doing in this part of the world? I don't know. But I wish I had waited for Gandalf. But then perhaps it would only have made matters worse. And you know or guess something about this rider? I don't know and I... I would rather not guess. All right, Coven Frodo. You can keep your secret for the present if you want to be mysterious. In the meanwhile, what are we to do? I think we will move on now. We ought to do a good step more today. Buckland is still many miles away. But we must keep off the road in case that rider comes back. Yes, I'm going to cut straight across country from here. Short cuts make long delays. The country is rough around here and there are bogs and all kinds of difficulties. And if you're worrying about meeting that rider, then I can't see that it would be any worse meeting him on a road than in a wood or a field. It is less easy to find people in the woods and fields. And if you're supposed to be on the road, there is some chance that you will be looked for on the road and not off it. All right. I'll follow you into every bog and ditch. But it is hard. I have counted on passing the Golden Perch at stock before sundown. And the best beer and yeast farthing of the Shire all used to be. That settles it. Short cuts make delays, but ends make longer ones. At all costs, we must keep away from the Golden Perch. What do you say, Sam? I should go along with you, Mr. Buckland. Then if we are going to toil through bog and briar, let's go... What do you think that was? If it was a bird, it was one I never heard in the Shire before. It was not bird or beast. It was a call or a signal. There were words in that cry, though I could not catch them, but... no hobbit had such a voice. Come, sooner or later we must go on. It's better that we go sooner. Hello. I know these fields. Look, this is Bam Furlong, Old Farmer Maggot's Land. And that's his farm away there in the trees. Oh, no. One trouble after another. What's wrong with Old Maggot? He's a good friend to all the brandy books. Of course, he's a terrorist of trespassers and keeps ferocious dogs. But after all, he's a good man. He's a good man. He's a good man. He's a good man. He keeps ferocious dogs. But after all, folk down here are near the border and have to be more on their guard. All the same, I'm terrified of him and his dogs. And I've avoided his farm for years and years. Why is that, Mr. Furlong? Well, he caught me trespassing after mushrooms several times when I was a youngster. On the last occasion, he beat me and then took me and showed me to his dogs. See, lads, he said, next time this young varmint sets foot on my land, you can eat him. Now, stop. And they did. I've never got over the fright. Well, then, it's time you made it up. Don't worry, Mr. Frodo. I won't let this farm maggot do you no harm. If he tries it, I've found Gansey to reckon with. Thank you, Sam. Hello, hello. And who may you be? And what may you be wanting? Good afternoon, Mr. Maggot. Well, if it isn't Master Pitman. Mr. Peregrin Took, I should say. It's lucky for you that I know you. I was just going out to set my dogs. Are there any strangers? There are some funny goings-on today. Of course, we do get queer folk wandering in these parts at times, too near the river. But this fellow was the most outlandish I ever set eyes on. Which fellow do you mean? Well, you haven't seen him. We went up the lane not a long while back. He was a funny customer. He was asking funny questions. But, well, perhaps you'll come inside and we'll pass the news more comfortably. I have a drop of good ale on tap, if you and your friends are willing, Mr. Took. Yes, well, what about the dogs? They won't harm you, not unless I tell them to. Here, Grip, Grip Bag, here, here you are. Can I introduce my friend? This is Sam Gamgee. How do you do, Sam? How do you do? And this is Mr. Frodo Baggins. You may not remember him, but he used to live in Buckland. Well, if that isn't queerer than ever. Mr. Baggins, is it? Oh, come inside. We must talk. Well, Sam, this makes up for missing the Golden Birch, eh? Yes, I suppose so, Mr. Byron. I'm afraid Sam, he is rather suspicious of you, Farmer Maggot. Well, you see, I told him the last time I came to visit you, you gave me a beating to remember you by. Well, Sam, I'm sorry I beat your master, but he shouldn't have gone thieving my mushrooms. Oh, I remember you, Mr. Baggins. Anyway, that's all in the past. It wasn't mushrooms I was thinking of when Mr. Peridon told me your name, Mr. Frodo. You see, I had just heard the name of Baggins before you turned up. How is that, Mr. Maggot? Well, it was like this. This funny customer came riding in at the gate on a big black horse right up to my door. All black he was himself, too, and cloaked and hooded up as if he did not want to be known. Good day to you, I says, going out to him. This lane, don't lead anywhere. And wherever you may be going, your quickest way will be back to the road. The black fellow sat quite still and then pointed back west over my fields, if you please, he said, I come from yonder. Have you seen Baggins? Oh, be off, I said. There are no Baggins's here. You're in the wrong part of the shire. You'd better go back west to Wobbiton. You can go by road this time. Baggins has left, he answered in a whisper. He is coming. He is not far away. I wish to find him. If he passes, will you tell me? I will come back with gold. Oh, no you won't, I said. You go back where you belong, double quick. I give you one minute before I call all my dogs. He gave a sort of hiss. We might have been laughing and it might not. Then he spurred his great horse right at me and I jumped out of the way only just in time. I called my dogs, but he swung off and rode through the gate like a bolt of thunder. Now, what do you think of that? I don't know what to think. Well, it's as plain as my nose that no accident brought you and that rider here on the same afternoon. And maybe my news was no great news to you after all. I'm not asking you to tell me anything you have a mind to keep to yourself, but I see you're in some kind of trouble. Yes, I'm afraid I may be. And since I must try to get to Crickhollow before dark, we must be going. Drink up, Sam, we're off again. Ah, look, Mr. Frodo, I have a notion. It's nearly sundown and we're going to have our supper. Mrs. Maggots cooking bacon and mushrooms. I dare say you still have a liking for mushrooms, Mr. Maggots. Anyway, we'd be pleased if you could all stay and have a bite with us. Well, then so should we, but... No, no, wait a minute. I was going to say, after a bit of supper, I'll get out our small wagon and I'll take you on your way. And that will save you a step and it might also save you trouble of another sort. Thank you, Mr. Maggots. That would be most kind. It didn't take much to change his mind, did it? Bacon and what was it? Mushrooms. This list is going to get worse, I'm thinking. And I'll not light my lanterns till I turn for old. We'll hear a little on the road long before we meet it. You know, former maggot, I've been in terror of you and your dogs for over 30 years, though you may last to hear it. It's a pity, for I've missed a good friend. Well, you should never have gone getting yourself mixed up with Hobbiton folk. I shouldn't be surprised if this trouble you're in now hasn't come from those strange doings of Mr. Bilbo. Anyway, I'm glad you've had the sense to come back to Buckland. And my advice is, stay here. Oh, there. Oh, someone's coming. You'd better be hidden, Mr. Maggots. Get down in the wagon, cover up the place. We'll soon send this rider to the right about. Hello there. Now then, don't you come a step nearer. What do you want? Who are you? Why, it's me, Mr. Maggots. Oh, Mr. Merry. Yes, of course. Who did you think it was? You can come out, Frodo. It was only Merry. Merry. Thank goodness for that. What's all this about? And where did you find them, Mr. Maggots? In your duck pond? Oh, I caught them trespassing. Oh, but they'll tell you the story, I've no doubt. Well, it's been a queer day, and no mistake. But all's well that ends well, though perhaps we should not say that till we reach our own doors. Oh, then, I was nearly forgetting. Mrs. Maggots put this up for Mr. Baggins with her compliments. Oh, thank you, Mr. Maggots. Well, good night to you all. Good night, Mr. Maggots. What's in the basket, Frodo? Mushrooms, if I'm not very much mistaken. Well, here we are. What do you think of it? I've done my best to make it look like home. It's perfect, Merry. I hardly feel I've moved at all. What do you say, Sam? Just like Bag End it is, Mr. Frodo. I'll make some supper. Oh, good. Now then, what have you three been up to, and what was the matter with old Maggots? He sounded scared. We've all been scared, and you would have been too if you'd been chased by black riders. Black riders? What are they? Black figures riding on black horses. Cousin Frodo knows something more, but he's been close. Very well. I can't keep it to myself any longer. I've got something to tell you, but... Well, now I see how pleasant and comfortable and welcoming you've made this little place, Merry, I don't know how to begin. I think I can help you by telling you some of it myself. What do you mean? Well, just this, my dear old Frodo. You are miserable because you don't know how to say goodbye. You meant to leave the Shire, of course, but danger has come sooner than you expected, and now you are making up your mind to go at once, and you don't want to. How can you... Dear old Frodo, did you really think you'd thrown dust in all our eyes? You've not been nearly careful or clever enough for that. Good heavens, I thought I'd been both careful and clever. I don't know what Gandalf would say. Is all the Shire discussing my departure? Oh, no, no, no, don't worry about that. The secret won't keep for long, of course, but at present it is, I think, known only to us conspirators anyway. The conspiracy has now been unmasked, and we're not going to let you escape so easily. But I must go. It cannot be helped. It is wretched for us all, but please help me and don't hinder me. You don't understand. Of course you must go. And therefore, so must we. What do you mean? I mean that Merry and I are coming with you. Sam is an excellent fellow and would jump down a dragon's throat to save you if he didn't trip over his own feet first. But you'll need more than one companion in your dangerous adventure. My dear and most beloved hobbits, but I couldn't allow it. Oh, you speak of danger, but you do not know how deadly is that danger. Of course we know. And that is why we have decided to come. We know the ring is no laughing matter. Yes, we know about the ring. We're going to do our best to help you against the enemy. Well, I mean, is nothing safe? Not too safe, I should say. But if you want to be introduced to our chief investigator in our little conspiracy, I can produce him. Where is he? Step forward, Sam. Here's our collector of information. And he collected a lot, I can tell you, before he was finally caught. After which, I may say, he seemed to regard himself as on parole and dried up. Sam? I'm begging your pardon, sir. But I meant no wrong to you, Mr. Frodo, nor to Mr. Gandalf, for that matter. And he has some sense, mind you. What is that supposed to mean? Why, sir, when you said go alone, he said no. Take someone as you can trust. But it doesn't seem that I can trust anyone. Now, don't say that, Mr. Frodo. Look, Frodo, it all depends on what you want. You can trust us to stick to you through thick and thin, to the bitter end. And you can trust us to keep any secret of yours closer than you keep it yourself. You cannot trust us to let you face trouble alone. Anyway, there it is. We know most of what Gandalf has told you. We know a good deal about the ring. We are horribly afraid. But we are coming with you. Or follow you, like hounds. You're a set of deceitful scoundrels. But bless you. Oh, I am so dreaded this evening. The next morning, the hobbits rose early and prepared to set out. They saddled up four sturdy little ponies for riding and loaded their baggage onto a fist. Well, Frodo, all is ready. Which way are we to head? For Rivendell and the house of Elrond Halfelven. But we must not go by road. The riders will be watching for us. So the only safe thing to do is to go off in a quite unexpected direction. Then we must go through the old forest and then on to Breeve. And Merry must lead us. Oh, he knows the forest better than any of us. That'll do. Still, I wish Gandalf were with us all the same. Well, come on. Gandalf or no Gandalf. The sooner we leave the Shire and those riders behind, the better. Yes. To Rivendell, where elves yet dwell In glades beneath the misty fell Through moor and waste we ride in haste And with a bend we cannot tell With foes ahead, behind us dread Beneath the sky are we our bed Until at last our toil be past Our journey done, our errands spared To Rivendell, where elves yet dwell Oh, that's Bree up ahead. Is there anywhere there we can stay? Oh, there's an inn, Frodo. The Prancing Pony, if I remember rightly. Well, I must say it'll be good to find a fire and put a door between us and the night. Well, it may be all we could wish for, but it is outside the Shire all the same. Now, don't make yourselves too much at home. Oh, and please remember, all of you, that the name of Baggins must not be mentioned. I and Mr. Underhill, if any name must be given. Is this the inn? Yes, sir. Why, what's the matter? Well, surely we aren't going to stay here, are we, sir? I mean, it's got three stories. Never mind, it'll have to do. And I dare say it's home-like enough inside. All right, all right. I'm coming. I'm coming. I'm coming. I'm coming. I'm coming. I'm coming. All right, all right. I'm coming. Now, what's your... Oh, good evening, little masters. What may you be wanting? Begs for four and stabling for five ponies, if that can be managed. Are you Mr. Butterbur? That's right. Barleyman's my name. Barleyman Butterbur, at your service. And you're hobbits from the Shire, eh? Oh, now, what does that remind me of? Might I ask your name, sir? Um, Mr. Pook and Mr. Brandybuck. And this is Sam Gamgee. Evening. And, um, my name is Undertaker. Oh, Mr. Undertaker. Oh, dear, now it's gone again. But it'll come back when I have time to think. I'm run off my feet, but I'll see what I can do for you. There's such a crowd already in the house tonight, there hasn't been for long enough. It'll never rain for what it pours, as we say in Bree. Oi, Knob! Where are you, you woolly-footed snow-coaked snob? Sir, coming. Now, where's Bob? Oh, I don't know, Mr. Butterbur. Don't know? Well, find him, double shot. I haven't got six legs, nor six eyes, neither. Now, tell Bob there's five ponies that have to be stable, and he must find room somehow. Well, off you go. Oh, yes, yes, Mr. Butterbur. Oh, dear, oh, dear, oh, dear. Yeah, well, now, what was I going to say? Oh, I don't know. The trouble is, one thing drives out another, so to speak, and I'm that busy tonight, my head's going round. Anyway, it's a good job you're hobbits, or I don't know if we could house you. But we've got a room or two in the North Wing that were made special for hobbits. On the ground floor, with round windows and all. I hope you'll find them comfortable. Happy now, Sam? Oh, yes, Mr. Butterbur. That sounds most comfortable. And you'll be watching supper, I don't doubt, as soon as maybe. Oh, yes. Well, come in, come in. You can go into the parlour. It's quiet in there. Oh, thank you. Well, you'll have to excuse me now. I'm that busy. Phew. Want a cheese to fill up the corners with, Mary? No corners left, I'm afraid. Oh, begging your pardon for disturbing you, Mr. Indale. Oh, it's all right, Mr. Butterbur. We've just finished, and it was an excellent meal. Yeah, yeah. Oh, good, I'm glad. What I was wondering was whether you'd care to join the company when you served. I mean, they'd be very pleased to welcome you, if you had a mind. We don't often get outsiders, or travellers from the shire, I should say. And we'd like to hear a bit of news, or any story or song you may have in mind. So join us, or not, as you please. Oh, thank you, Mr. Butterbur. Perhaps we will. Well, now, I wish to get in on again. No, no! Hmm, I think it might be quite pleasant to join the company for a while, wouldn't you fellows say? Oh, I dare say we could give them a song or two, if they like. Oh, I've got a tale or two. What about you, Mary? Oh, no, no. I shall sit here quietly by the fire for a bit, and perhaps go out later for a sniff of the air. Now, mind your Ps and Qs, now. And don't forget that we are supposed to be escaping in secret, and we're still not very far from the shire. All right. And you mind yourself. Don't get lost. And don't forget that it's safer indoors. Mr. Butterbur? Yes? Who's that strange-looking, weather-beaten man sitting by the wall? Look in the pipe. I don't think you introduced him. Oh, him? I don't quite know. He's one of the wandering folk. Rangers, they call him. He disappears for a month or a year, and then pops up again. What his right name is, I've never heard. But he's known round here as Strider. Why's that? Well, on account of his going about, he's got a great taste for those long shanks of his. Though we don't tell nobody what causes his worry. Oh, Mr. Underhill, it's funny you should ask that again. Oh, there's no place for a body in this ship. Back off a minute, Mr. Underhill. I'll be back. Now, where are you, lad? Master Underhill? Will you join me for a moment? Oh, thank you. It is Underhill, isn't it? Only I wasn't sure if old Butterbird got your name right. Yes, he did. Well, Master Underhill, I'm called Strider, and I'm pleased to meet you. You know, drink, fire, and chant meetings are pleasant enough, but, um... Well, this isn't the Shire, and there are queer folk about, though I say there shouldn't, you may think. And there have been even stranger travellers through Bree, lady. So, if I were you, I should stop your friends from talking too much. You had better do something quick. We would like to thank you all for your warm and most hospitable welcome to Bree. Sorry, Mr. Underhill, I've had too much of old Barleyman Bayer. No, no, I was in the middle of telling a story. We are all very much gratified by the kindness of your reception. And I venture to hope that our brief visit will help to renew the old ties of friendship between the Shire and Bree. Oh, well, uh... Let's have a song, then. Come on, Mr. Underhill. Up on the table and sing us a song. Come on now, Master. Sing us something that we haven't heard before. Oh, well... Well, very well. Uh, perhaps this will be new to you. There is an inn, a merry old inn beneath an old grey hill. And there they drew a beer so brown that the man in the moon himself came down one night to drink his fill. The ostler has a pixie cap and plays a five-string fiddle. And up and down he runs his bone, now squeaking high, now purring low, now soaring in the middle. Soaring in the middle. The man in the moon was drinking deep and the cat began to wail. A dish and a spoon on the table danced a cow in the garden madly prance and the little dog chased his tail. The man in the moon took another mug and rolled beneath his chair. And there he goes and dreamed of ales and in the sky the stars were pale and dawn was in the air. The cat and the fiddle they played and all diddle and jiggled and would waken the dead. He squeaked and soared and quickened the tune while the landlord shook the man in the moon. It's after three, he said. With a ping and a pong the fiddle-string broke, the cow jumped over the moon. And the little dog laughed to see that fun and the strategy dish was off and the run with the silver sonny-bee spool. Thank you. Let's do that line first again. All right. With a ping and a pong the fiddle-string broke, the cow jumped over the moon. You went too high, Mr. Underhill. What? Where did he go? He went flat through the floor. I've seen it. Here. Fireman, fireman quick. There, there, there. What's all the rumpus about? I saw him. Or at least I didn't see him. If you take my meaning, Mr. Underhill just vanished into thin air in a manner of speaking. You don't say, Mr. Muggler. I do say. Well, there's some mistake somewhere. There's too much of that Mr. Underhill to go vanishing into thin air. Well, where is he now, then? Yeah, where is he? How should I know? He's welcome to go where he will so long as he pays in the morning. Well, I say I saw what I saw and I saw what I didn't. Well, there's some mistake. Of course there's a mistake. I haven't vanished. Well, here I am. Now, what have you been doing, Mr. Underhill? Frightening my customers and breaking my crocks with your acrobatics? Yes, I'm very sorry. It was quite unintentional, I assure you. A most unfortunate accident. All right, everybody, all right. Excitement's over. There's plenty of ale. Still to be drunk. I must ask you, Mr. Underhill, not to be doing any more tumbling or conjuring or whatever it was without warning us beforehand. I shan't be doing anything of the sort again, Mr. Butterbur, I promise you. I hope not, Mr. Underhill. We're a bit suspicious round here of anything out of the way. Knob! Well, Mr. Underhill, you've put your foot in it. Or should I say your finger? I don't know what you mean. Oh, yes, you do. But we had better wait until things have settled down then, if you please, Mr. Baggins. I should like a quiet word with you. But Frodo, who is this stranger and what's he to do with us? My name is Strider and I want to talk to you. What about? A matter of some importance, although, of course, I have my price. What do you mean? Don't be alarmed. I mean just this. I will tell you what I know and give you some good advice, but I shall expect rewards. And what will that be, pray? No more than you can afford. All I ask is that you take me along with you. Oh, indeed. Is that all? Well, even if I wanted another companion, I shouldn't agree to any such thing until I knew a good deal more about you and your business. Excellent. You seem to be coming to your senses again and that's all to the good. You've been much too careless so far. Very well. I will tell you what I know and leave the reward to you. All right. What do you know? I know you are Frodo Baggins and I also know what you are carrying out of the Shire. What? Now, now, don't mistake me. I shall take more care of your secret than you do and care is needed. Black horsemen have passed through Bree and, believe me, they will return and more are coming. There are others. I know these riders and I know their number. There are folk in Bree who are not to be trusted and it seems all too likely that by morning these riders will know of your little prank. It was sheer accident. I wonder. Anyway, that accident has made your position dangerous. I don't know why we behaved so foolishly. We ought to have stayed quiet in here. It would have been better and I would have stopped you going in there if I could. But the innkeeper would not let me go in to see you. Do you think he knows anything? No. I don't think any harm of old Butterbur. Well, in any event, I intend to leave Bree at first light. But you dare not go by the open road for the horsemen will watch it day and night and even if you escape from Bree you won't go far. They will come on you in the wild in some dark place where there is no help. Do you wish them to find you? They are terrible, Frodo. Terrible. But trust Strider and he will take you by the path of the Feldenkraten. Well? Will you have him? With your lead, Mr. Frodo, I'd say no. This Strider here, he says take care and I say yes to that and let's begin with him. Hmm. I think, Strider, that you are not really as you choose to look. Still, as Sam says, I don't see why you should warn us to take care and yet ask us to take you on trust. Why the disguise? Who are you? What do you really know about my business and how do you know it? Wait. Let me get out of sight. Oh. Good evening, Mr. Butterbur. I'm sorry about the commotion. Oh, that's all right, Mr. Underhill. I've just come to bid you good night. Nob, take the water to the room. Yes, Mr. Butterbur. There is something else, Mr. Underhill. You see, it's like this. If I've done any harm, I'm sorry indeed, but one thing drives out another, as you'll admit, and I'm a busy man. But first one thing and then another has gotten my memory, as the saying goes, and not too late, I hope. I'm sorry, Mr. Butterbur, but I don't follow you. Well, you see, I was asked to look out for hobbits of the Shire and for one by the name of Baggins in particular. Oh? What has that got to do with me? Well, you know best. I won't give you away, but I was told that this Baggins would be going by the name of Underhill. Who told you this? Ah, that was Gandalf, if you know who I mean. He's a good friend of mine. I don't know what he'll have to say to me now. He'll turn all the ale sour on me into a block of wood, I shouldn't wonder. Still, what's been done can't be undone. But, Mr. Butterbur, what have you done? Well, Mr. Tooke, you see, about three months back, old Gandalf walked in. He said, Barley, I'm in a hurry and I want you to do something for me. I want a message took to the Shire, he says. Have you any one you can send and trust to go? I can find someone, I said. Tomorrow, maybe, or the day after. We'll make it tomorrow, he says. And then he gave me this letter. It's address plain enough of Mr. Frodo Baggins, Bag End, Hobbiton, in the Shire. A letter for me from Gandalf? Oh, then your name is Baggins? Yes, it is. And you had better give me that letter at once and explain why you never sent it. Oh, I beg your pardon, Master, but I didn't keep it back a purpose. I couldn't find nobody willing to go to the Shire next day, nor the day after. None of me own folk were to spare. And then one thing after another drove it out of me mind. Oh, I'll do what I can to set matters right. You must leave me. I didn't know that it would bring trouble to you, Mr. Baggins. What do you mean, trouble? Well, these black riders who've been asking for Baggins, and that ranger, Strider. He's been asking questions, too. Tried to get in here to see you, he did? Yes, he did. But you... What do you want? You're always popping up. He's here with my leave. He came to offer his help. Oh, well. You know your own business, maybe, but if I was in your plight, I wouldn't take up with a ranger. Then who would you take up with? A fat innkeeper who only remembers his own name because people shouted at him every day. They cannot stay in the ponies forever, and they cannot go home. They have a long road before them. Will you go with them and keep the black riders off? Me? Leave free? I wouldn't do that for any money. Well, then. Let others help them. But what are these black riders after? And where do they come from? I'm sorry, Mr. Butler. I... I can't explain it all. I'm not sure, but... I... I think... I fear they come from... They come from Mordor. From Mordor, Barleyman. If that means anything to you. Oh, save us. Well, Mr. Butterworth. Are you still willing to help me? I am. More than ever. Though I don't know what the likes of me can do against... against... Against the shadow of the east. Watch, Barleyman. But every little helps. They must stay here tonight. And you must forget about the name of Baggins till they are far away. Oh, I do all that all right. But I'm afraid they'll find out easier without help from me. It's a pity Mr. Baggins drew attention to himself this evening. Well, we can only hope the riders won't come back yet. I hope not indeed. But if they do, then they won't get into the ponies so easy. And me and my folk will keep watch tonight. And you best get some sleep if you can. Yes. In any case, we must be called at dawn. We must get off as early as possible. Breakfast at 6.30, please. Right. Supposedly to be orders. Well, good night, Mr. Baggins. Underhill, we should say. Good night, Mr. Toad. Good night. Good night, Mr. Brand... Where's your Mr. Brandybuck? Mary! I don't know. I'm afraid he's out. He said something about going for a breath of air. Oh, dear, oh, dear. Well, if you do want looking after him, no mistake, your party might be on a holiday. Oh, I'd better send Knob to look for him. Brandybuck! Brandybuck! Brandybuck! Well? When are you going to open that letter? Yes, of course. That really old butt of hers made a fucking mess of me. The Prancing Pony. Bree. Midyear's Day. Shire year 1418. Dear Frodo, bad news has reached me here and I must go off at once. You had better leave Bag End soon. I will return as soon as I can and I will follow you if I find that you are gone. Leave a message for me here if you pass through Bree. You can trust the landlord. You may meet a friend of mine on the road, a man, lean, dark, tall, by some called Strider. He knows our business and will help you. Make for Rivendell. There, I hope, we may meet again. Yours in haste, Gandalf. P.S. Make sure that it is the real Strider. There are many strange men on the roads. His true name is Aragorn. All that's gold does not glitter. Not all those who wander are lost. All that is strong does not wither. Deep roots are not reached by the frost. From the ashes a fire shall be woken. A light from the shadows shall spring. Renewed shall be blade that was broken. The crownless again shall be king. Strider, why didn't you tell me you were Gandalf's friend? Would you have believed me till now? I knew nothing of the letter. And anyway, I hoped you might take me for my own sake. But, uh, I believe my looks are against me. They are. Well, at first sight, at any rate. But handsome is as handsome does, as we say in the Shire. What I want to know is, how do we know that you are the Strider that Gandalf speaks about? You never mentioned Gandalf till the letter came out. You might have been a play-acting spy. You might have done in the real Strider, took his clothes. What do you say to that? That you're a stout fellow, Sam Gamgee. And I'm afraid my only answer is this. I am Aragorn. And those verses go with that name. Not much use, did it, Sam? But the time is near when this broken sword shall be forged anew. I wanted to believe you were a friend before this letter came. And, well, I think if you were a spy of the enemy, then you would, well, seem fairer and feel fouler. I mean, if you... You mean I look foul and feel fair. Is that it? All that is gold does not glitter. But all those who wander are lost. Well, now, with Sam's permission, we will call that settled. Strider will be your guide. Yes. Thank you. We need a guide. For this is all far more dangerous than I ever realized. Oh, I'm sorry, everyone. Oh, but I'm awfully tired. In spite of all the danger and worry, I really must go to bed. Or sleep where I sit. Where is that silly fellow, Merry? It would be the last straw if we had to go out in the dark and look for him. Very. I have seen them, Frodo. I have seen them in the village. Here. The black riders. THE LORD OF THE RINGS In episode two of J.R.R. Tolkien's The Lord of the Rings, adapted by Brian Sibley, the part of Frodo was played by Ian Holm, Gandalf by Michael Horton and Aragorn by Robert Steves, Sam William Nigh, Merry, Richard O'Callaghan, Pippin, John McAndrew, Butterbur, James Grout, Knob, Hayden Wood, Maggot, John Bott, Gaffer Gamgee, John Church, Gwaihir, Alexander John, Théoden, Jack May, Grima Wormtongue, Paul Brooke, Saruman, Peter Howell, The Lord of the Nazgul, Philip Voss, The Rider, Christopher Scott, with Sean Arnold, Graham Faulkner, Michael Spice and Gordon Reed. The narrator was Gerard Murphy. The music was composed and conducted by Stephen Oliver. The director was Jane Morgan.