As he lay there; thinking and getting a hold of himself; he noticed all at once that the darkness was slowly giving way: a pale greenish light was growing round him。 It did not at first show him what kind of a place he was in; for the light seemed to be ing out of himself; and from the floor beside him; and had not yet reached the roof or wall。 He turned; and there in the cold glow he saw lying beside him Sam; Pippin; and Merry。 They were on their backs; and their faces looked deathly pale; and they were clad in white。 About them lay many treasures; of gold maybe; though in that light they looked cold and unlovely。 On their heads were circlets; gold chains were about their waists; and on their fingers were many rings。 Swords lay by their sides; and shields were at their feet。 But across their three necks lay one long naked sword。
Suddenly a song began: a cold murmur; rising and falling。 The voice seemed far away and immeasurably dreary; sometimes high in the air and thin; sometimes like a low moan from the ground。 Out of the formless stream of sad but horrible sounds; strings of words would now and again shape themselves: grim; hard; cold words; heartless and miserable。 The night was railing against the morning of which it was bereaved; and the cold was cursing the warmth for which it hungered。 Frodo was chilled to the marrow。 After a while the song became clearer; and with dread in his heart he perceived that it had changed into an incantation:
Cold be hand and heart and bone;
and cold be sleep under stone:
never mare to wake on stony bed;
never; till the Sun fails and the Moon is dead。
In the black wind the stars shall die;
and still on gold here let them lie;
till the dark lord lifts his hand
over dead sea and withered land。
He heard behind his head a creaking and scraping sound。 Raising himself on one arm he looked; and saw now in the pale light that they were in a kind of passage which behind them turned a corner。 Round the corner a long arm was groping; walking on its fingers towards Sam; who was lying nearest; and towards the hilt of the sword that lay upon him。
At first Frodo felt as if he had indeed been turned into stone by the incantation。 Then a wild thought of escape came to him。 He wondered if he put on the Ring; whether the Barrowwight would miss him; and he might find some way out。 He thought of himself running free over the grass; grieving for Merry; and Sam; and Pippin; but free and alive himself。 Gandalf would admit that there had been nothing else he could do。
But the courage that had been awakened in him was now too strong: he could not leave his friends so easily。 He wavered; groping in his pocket; and then fought with himself again; and as he did so the arm crept nearer。 Suddenly resolve hardened in him; and he seized a short sword that lay beside him; and kneeling he stooped low over the bodies of his panions。 With what strength he had he hewed at the crawling arm near the wrist; and the hand broke off; but at the same moment the sword splintered up to the hilt。 There was a shriek and the light vanished。 In the dark there was a snarling noise。
Frodo fell forward over Merry; and Merry's face felt cold。 All at once back into his mind; from which it had disappeared with the first ing of the fog; came the memory of the house down under the Hill; and of Tom singing。 He remembered the rhyme that Tom had taught them。 In a small desperate voice he began: Ho! Tom Bombadil! and with that name his voice seemed to grow strong: it had a full and lively sound; and the dark chamber echoed as if to drum and trumpet。
Ho! Tom Bombadil; Tom Bombadillo!
By water; wood and hill; by the reed and willow;
By fire; sun and moon; harken now and hear us!
e; Tom Bombadil; for our need is near us!
There was a sudden deep silence; in which Frodo could hear his heart beating。 After a long slow moment he heard plain; but far away; as if it was ing down through the ground or through thick walls; an answering voice singing:
Old Tom Bombadil is a merry fellow;
Bright blue his jacket is; and his boots are yellow。
None has ever caught him yet; for Tom; he is the master:
His songs are stronger songs; and his feet are faster。
There was a loud rumbling sound; as of stones rolling and falling; and suddenly light streamed in; real light; the plain light of day。 A low door like opening appeared at the end of the chamber beyond Frodo's feet; and there was Tom's head (hat; feather; and all) framed against the light of the sun rising red behind him。 The light fell upon the floor; and upon the faces of the three hobbits lying beside Frodo。 They did not stir; but the sickly hue had left them。 They looked now as if they were only very deeply asleep。
Tom stooped; removed his hat; and came into the dark chamber; singing:
Get out; you old Wight! Vanish in the sunlight!
Shrivel like the cold mist; like the winds go wailing;
Out into the barren lands far beyond the mountains!
e never here again! Leave your barrow empty!
Lost and fotten be; darker than the darkness;
Where gates stand for ever shut; till the world is mended。
At these words there was a cry and part of the inner end of the chamber fell in with a crash。 Then there was a long trailing shriek; fading away into an unguessable distance; and after that silence。
'e; friend Frodo!' said Tom。 'Let us get out on to clean grass! You must help me bear them。'
Together they carried out Merry; Pippin; and Sam。 As Frodo left the barrow for the last time he thought he saw a severed hand wriggling still; like a wounded spider; in a heap of fallen earth。 Tom went back in again; and there was a sound of much thumping and stamping。 When he came out he was bearing in his arms a great load of treasure: things of gold; silver; copper; and bronze; many beads and chains and jewelled ornaments。 He climbed the green barrow and laid them all on top in the sunshine。
There he stood; with his hat in his hand and the wind in his hair; and looked down upon the three hobbits; that had been laid on their backs upon the grass at the west side of the mound。 Raising his right hand he said in a clear and manding voice:
Wake now my merry tads! Wake and hear me calling!
Warm now be heart and limb! The cold stone is fallen;
Dark door is standing wide; dead hand is broken。
Night under Night is flown; and the Gate is open!
To Frodo's great joy the hobbits stirred; stretched their arms; rubbed their eyes; and then suddenly sprang up。 They looked about in amazement; first at Frodo; and then at Tom standing large as life on the barrowtop above them; and then at themselves in their thin white rags; crowned and belted with pale gold; and jingling with trinkets。
'What in the name of wonder?' began Merry; feeling the golden circlet that had slipped over one eye。 Then he stopped; and a shadow came over his face; and he closed his eyes。 'Of course; I remember!' he said。 'The men of Carn D。m came on us at night; and we were worsted。 Ah! the spear in my heart!' He clutched at his breast。 'No! No!' he said; opening his eyes。 'What am I saying? I have been dreaming。 Where did you get to; Frodo?'
'I thought that I was lost;' said Frodo; 'but I don't want to speak of it。 L
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