jrt.fellowshipofring-第36节

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　all　pocked　with　hoof…prints。　Actually　his　view　was　screened　by　a　tall　line　of　beans　on　poles；　but　above　and　far　beyond　them　the　grey　top　of　the　hill　loomed　up　against　the　sunrise。　It　was　a　pale　morning：　in　the　East；　behind　long　clouds　like　lines　of　soiled　wool　stained　red　at　the　edges；　lay　glimmering　deeps　of　yellow。　The　sky　spoke　of　rain　to　e；　but　the　light　was　broadening　quickly；　and　the　red　flowers　on　the　beans　began　to　glow　against　the　wet　green　leaves。
　　　Pippin　looked　out　of　the　western　window；　down　into　a　pool　of　mist。　The　Forest　was　hidden　under　a　fog。　It　was　like　looking　down　on　to　a　sloping　cloud…roof　from　above。　There　was　a　fold　or　channel　where　the　mist　was　broken　into　many　plumes　and　billows；　the　valley　of　the　Withywindle。　The　stream　ran　down　the　hill　on　the　left　and　vanished　into　the　white　shadows。　Near　at　hand　was　a　flower…garden　and　a　clipped　hedge　silver…netted；　and　beyond　that　grey　shaven　grass　pale　with　dew…drops。　There　was　no　willow…tree　to　be　seen。
　　　'Good　morning；　merry　friends！'　cried　Tom；　opening　the　eastern　window　wide。　A　cool　air　flowed　in；　it　had　a　rainy　smell。　'Sun　won't　show　her　face　much　today。　I'm　thinking。　I　have　been　walking　wide；　leaping　on　the　hilltops；　since　the　grey　dawn　began；　nosing　wind　and　weather；　wet　grass　underfoot；　wet　sky　above　me。　I　wakened　Goldberry　singing　under　window；　but　nought　wakes　hobbit…folk　in　the　early　morning。　In　the　night　little　folk　wake　up　in　the　darkness；　and　sleep　after　light　has　e！　Ring　a　ding　dillo！　Wake　now；　my　merry　friends！　Forget　the　nightly　noises！　Ring　a　ding　dillo　del！　derry　del；　my　hearties！　If　you　e　soon　you'll　find　breakfast　on　the　table。　If　you　e　late　you'll　get　grass　and　rain…water！'
　　　Needless　to　say　…　not　that　Tom's　threat　sounded　very　serious　…　the　hobbits　came　soon；　and　left　the　table　late　and　only　when　it　was　beginning　lo　look　rather　empty。　Neither　Tom　nor　Goldberry　were　there。　Tom　could　be　heard　about　the　house；　clattering　in　the　kitchen；　and　up　and　down　the　stairs；　and　singing　here　and　there　outside。　The　room　looked　westward　over　the　mist…clouded　valley；　and　the　window　was　open。　Water　dripped　down　from　the　thatched　eaves　above。　Before　they　had　finished　breakfast　the　clouds　had　joined　into　an　unbroken　roof；　and　a　straight　grey　rain　came　softly　and　steadily　down。　Behind　its　deep　curtain　the　Forest　was　pletely　veiled。
　　　As　they　looked　out　of　the　window　there　came　falling　gently　as　if　it　was　flowing　down　the　rain　out　of　the　sky；　the　clear　voice　of　Goldberry　singing　up　above　them。　They　could　hear　few　words；　but　it　seemed　plain　to　them　that　the　song　was　a　rain…song；　as　sweet　as　showers　on　dry　hills；　that　told　the　tale　of　a　river　from　the　spring　in　the　highlands　to　the　Sea　far　below。　The　hobbits　listened　with　delight；　and　Frodo　was　glad　in　his　heart；　and　blessed　the　kindly　weather；　because　it　delayed　them　from　departing。　The　thought　of　going　had　been　heavy　upon　him　from　the　moment　he　awoke；　but　he　guessed　now　that　they　would　not　go　further　that　day。
　　　The　upper　wind　settled　in　the　West　and　deeper　and　wetter　clouds　rolled　up　to　spill　their　laden　rain　on　the　bare　heads　of　the　Downs。　Nothing　could　be　seen　all　round　the　house　but　falling　water。　Frodo　stood　near　the　open　door　and　watched　the　white　chalky　path　turn　into　a　little　river　of　milk　and　go　bubbling　away　down　into　the　valley。　Tom　Bombadil　came　trotting　round　the　corner　of　the　house；　waving　his　arms　as　if　he　was　warding　off　the　rain　…　and　indeed　when　he　sprang　over　the　threshold　he　seemed　quite　dry；　except　for　his　boots。　These　he　took　off　and　put　in　the　chimney…corner。　Then　he　sat　in　the　largest　chair　and　called　the　hobbits　to　gather　round　him。
　　　'This　is　Goldberry's　washing　day；'　he　said；　'and　her　autumn…cleaning。　Too　wet　for　hobbit…folk　…　let　them　rest　while　they　are　able！　It's　a　good　day　for　long　tales；　for　questions　and　for　answers；　so　Tom　will　start　the　talking。'
　　　He　then　told　them　many　remarkable　stories；　sometimes　half　as　if　speaking　to　himself；　sometimes　looking　at　them　suddenly　with　a　bright　blue　eye　under　his　deep　brows。　Often　his　voice　would　turn　to　song；　and　he　would　get　out　of　his　chair　and　dance　about。　He　told　them　tales　of　bees　and　flowers；　the　ways　of　trees；　and　the　strange　creatures　of　the　Forest；　about　the　evil　things　and　good　things；　things　friendly　and　things　unfriendly；　cruel　things　and　kind　things；　and　secrets　hidden　under　brambles。
　　　As　they　listened；　they　began　to　understand　the　lives　of　the　Forest；　apart　from　themselves；　indeed　to　feel　themselves　as　the　strangers　where　all　other　things　were　at　home。　Moving　constantly　in　and　out　of　his　talk　was　Old　Man　Willow；　and　Frodo　learned　now　enough　to　content　him；　indeed　more　than　enough；　for　it　was　not　fortable　lore。　Tom's　words　laid　bare　the　hearts　of　trees　and　their　thoughts；　which　were　often　dark　and　strange；　and　filled　with　a　hatred　of　things　that　go　free　upon　the　earth；　gnawing；　biting；　breaking；　hacking；　burning：　destroyers　and　usurpers。　It　was　not　called　the　Old　Forest　without　reason；　for　it　was　indeed　ancient；　a　survivor　of　vast　forgotten　woods；　and　in　it　there　lived　yet；　ageing　no　quicker　than　the　hills；　the　fathers　of　the　fathers　of　trees；　remembering　times　when　they　were　lords。　The　countless　years　had　filled　them　with　pride　and　rooted　wisdom；　and　with　malice。　But　none　were　more　dangerous　than　the　Great　Willow：　his　heart　was　rotten；　but　his　strength　was　green；　and　he　was　cunning；　and　a　master　of　winds；　and　his　song　and　thought　ran　through　the　woods　on　both　sides　of　the　river。　His　grey　thirsty　spirit　drew　power　out　of　the　earth　and　spread　like　fine　root…threads　in　the　ground；　and　invisible　twig…fingers　in　the　air；　till　it　had　under　its　dominion　nearly　all　the　trees　of　the　Forest　from　the　Hedge　to　the　Downs。
　　　Suddenly　Tom's　talk　left　the　woods　and　went　leaping　up　the　young　stream；　over　bubbling　waterfalls；　over　pebbles　and　worn　rocks；　and　among　small　flowers　in　close　grass　and　wet　crannies；　wandering　at　last　up　on　to　the　Downs。　They　heard　of　the　Great　Barrows；　and　the　green　mounds；　and　the　stone…rings　upon　the　hills　and　in　the　hollows　among　the　hills。　Sheep　were　bleating　in　flocks。　Green　walls　and　white　walls　rose。　There　were　fortresses　on　the　heights。　Kings　of　little　kingdoms　fought　together；　and　the　young　Sun　shone　like　fire　on　the　red　metal　of　their　new　and　greedy　swords。　There　was　victory　and　defeat；　and　towers　fell；　fortresses　were　burned；　and　flames　went　up　into　the　sky。　Gold　was　piled　on　the　biers　of　dead　kings　and　queens；　and　mounds　covered　them；　and　the　stone　doors　were　shut；　and　the　grass　grew　over　all。　Sheep　walked　for　a　while　biting　the　grass；　but　soon　the　hills　were　empty　again。　A　shadow　came　out　of　dark　places　far　away；　and　the　bones　were　stirred　in　the　mounds。　Barrow…wights　walked　in　the　hollow　places　with　a　clink　of　rings　on　cold　fingers；　and　gold　chains　in　the　wind。'　Stone　rings　grinned　out　of　the　ground　like　broken　teeth　in　the　moonlight。
　　　The　hobbits　shuddered。　Even　in　the　Shire　the　rumour　of　the　Barrow…wights　of　the　Barrow…downs　beyond　the　Forest　had　been　heard。　But　it　was　not　a　tale　that　any　hobbit　liked　to　listen　to；　even　by　a　fortable　fireside　far　away。　These　four　now　suddenly　remembered　what　the　joy　of　this　house　had　driven　from　their　minds：　the　house　of　Tom　Bombadil　nestled　under　the　very　shoulder　of　those　dreaded　hills。　They　lost　the　thread　of　his　tale　and　shifted　uneasily；　looking　aside　at　one　another。
　　　When　they　caught　his　words　again　they　found　that　he　had　now　wandered　into　strange　regions　beyond　their　memory　and　beyond　their　waking　thought；　into　limes　when　the　world　was　wider；　and　the　seas　flowed　straight　to　the　western　Shore；　and　still　on　and　back　Tom　went　singing　out　into　ancient　starlight；　when　only　the　Elf…sires　were　awake。　Then　suddenly　he　slopped；　and　they　saw　that　he　nodded　as　if　he　was　falling　asleep。　The　hobbits　sat　still　before　him；　enchanted；　and　it　seemed　as　if；　under　the　spell　of　his　words；　the　wind　had　gone；　and　the　clouds　had　dried　up；　and　the　day　had　been　withdrawn；　and　darkness　had　e　from　East　and　West；　and　all　the　sky　was　filled　with　the　light　of　white　stars。
　　　Whether　the　morning　and　evening　of　one　day　or　of　many　days　had　passed　Frodo　could　not　tell。　He　did　not　feel　either　hungry　or　tired；　only　filled　with　wonder。　The　stars　shone　through　the　window　and　the　silence　of　the　heavens　seemed　to　be　round　him。　He　spoke　at　last　out　of　his　wonder　and　a　sudden　fear　of　that　silence：
　　　'Who　are　you；　Master？'　he　asked。
　　　'Eh；　what？'　said　Tom　sitting　up；　and　his　eyes　glinting　in　the　gloom。　'Don't　you　know　my　name　yet？　That's　the　only　answer。　Tell　me；　who　are　you；　alone；　yourself　and　nameless？　But　you　are　young　and　I　am　old。　Eldest；　that's　what　I　am。　Mark　my　words；　my　friends：　Tom　was　here　before　the　river　and　the　trees；　Tom　remembers　the　first　raindrop　and　the　first　acorn。　He　made　paths　before　the　Big　People；　and　saw　the　little　People　arriving。　He　was　here　before　the　Kings　and　the　graves　and　the　Barrow…wights。　When　the　Elves　passed　westward；　Tom　was　here　already；　before　the　seas　were　bent。　He　knew　the　dark　under　the　stars　when　it　was　fearless　…　before　the　Dark　Lord　came　from　Outside。'
　　　A　shadow　seemed　to　pass　by　the　window；　and　the　hobbits　glanced　hastily　through　the　panes。　When　they　turned　again；　Goldberry　stood　in　the　door　behind；　framed　in　light。　She　held　a　candle；　s