The Hobbit (1977) Movie Script
1
In a hole in the ground
there lived a hobbit.
Many ages ago, when this ancient
planet was not quite so ancient...
... long before men
recorded his history...
... here was the time of Middle Earth,
where men shared his days with...
... elves, dwarves, wizards,
goblins, dragons and... hobbits.
In the lands of Middle Earth,
in an area known as the Shire...
... It was a village named
Hobbiton.
There, in a hole in the ground
there lived a hobbit.
Not a nasty, dirty, wet hole,
nor a dry, bare, sandy hole.
It was a hobbit-hole,
and that means comfort.
Bilbo Baggins?
Yes?
- I'm looking to hire a burglar.
- Burglar?
I'm afraid you've come
to the wrong place.
You mean you do not wish
to share a grand adventure?
Dear, me? No!
We hobbits are plain quiet folk.
Adventures make one late for dinner.
Enough! I'm Gandalf.
And Gandalf means me!
- Gandalf? Not the wondering wizard?
- The same!
Listen.
Thorin and company, at your service.
Dwalin, Balin...
...Kili, Fili...
...Dori, Nori and Ori.
Oin, sir. And Gloin, sir.
Calling Bifur. And him, Bofur.
And Bombur at your service.
We are all at your service.
What do these dwarves
want in Hobbiton?
They've come for tea, and for supper...
... and for you, Burgler Baggins!
- There's a magic in that music.
- And it moves through me.
- You feel the love of beautiful things.
- To go and see the great mountains...
... and hear the pine-trees and waterfalls.
To wear a sword instead of a walking-stick.
Just once.
Gandalf, dwarves and Burgler Baggins...
What is this burgler business?
If you prefer, you can say
"expert treasure-hunter".
Well, yes, I do prefer that.
We have met tonight,
in the house of our friend...
... this most excellent hobbit.
May the hair on his toes never fall out!
Cheer-cheer!
We shall soon start on our long journey,
Our object is, I take it,
well known to us.
All of us?
It is not well known to me.
Really? Then we must inform our burgler.
We seek a treasure...
... that which is rightfully ours.
Far off in the East...
... beyond the Misty Mountains
and the dark forest of Mirkwood...
... there you will find Lonely Mountain.
Long ago, this was the home of my people...
... and was ruled by my grandfather:
King under the Mountain.
The dwarves of yore made mighty spells,
While hammers fell like ringing bells
In places deep, where dark things sleep,
In hollow halls beneath the fells.
Goblets they carved there for themselves
And harps of gold; where no man delves
There lay they long, and many a song
Was sung unheard by men or elves.
For ancient king and elvish lord
There many a gloaming golden hoard
They shaped and wrought, and light they caught
To hide in gems on hilt of sword.
On silver necklaces they strung
The flowering stars, on crowns they hung
The dragon-fire, in twisted wire
They meshed the light of moon and sun.
Undoubtedly all this wealth was
what brought the dragon.
The pines were roaring on the height,
The winds were moaning in the night.
The fire was red, it flaming spread;
The trees like torches biased with light,
And below us, in the valley lay Dale...
... the town of mortal men.
The bells were ringing in the dale
And men looked up with faces pale;
The dragon's ire more fierce than fire
Laid low their towers and houses frail.
The mountain smoked beneath the moon;
The dwarves, they heard the tramp of doom.
They fled their hall to dying -fall
Beneath his feet, beneath the moon.
Curses to the dragon!
Curses to Smaug!
He killed our men and stole our gold!
Curses to the dragon Smaug!
Is this the adventure you've planned for me?
To help you recapture the gold?
Non other.
There are thirteen of you. Very unlucky.
Mr. Baggins will make it fourteen.
A splendid lucky number you've found for us.
No arguments. Let us have the contract.
"To Burgler Baggins. Terms for your
professional services.
One fourteenth of total profits,
travelling expenses guarenteed.
Funeral expenses if necessary.
Sincerely, Thorin and company."
- Funeral expenses?
- Do you find the terms acceptable?
- Of course he does!
- But, but I...
So, tomorrow begins your greatest adventure.
The Hobbit
No hat, no stick, no pipe.
Not even a pocket-handkerchief.
How can one survive?
- How did Gandalf get ahead of us, Bombur?
- He comes and goes with will.
He is a wizard, you know.
Oh, bother burgling and
everything to do with it.
Always remember, Bilbo,
when your heart wants lifting...
... think of pleasant things.
Eggs and bacon, a good full pipe,
My garden at twilight. Cakes...
We'll camp here. Perhaps we can find
a dry patch to sleep on.
Our lookout has found something.
Look. Trolls!
Miserable, no good robbing trolls.
Where the deuce is Gandalf?
Left us again. Just when a wizard
would have been most useful.
No matter. We have
an expert burgler with us.
- What have trolls to do with burgling?
- You could use some of that meat they're cooking.
- Oh, I say!
- Burgler, do your burgling!
Blasted!
Nothing but mutton to eat!
How I...
... look for a bit of bad flesh!
Bacon and eggs. My fireplace. Hot chestnuts.
- What the blazes?
- Help! Help! Let me down! Stop that! Stop that!
What have we got here?
Let's cook him and find out!
He wouldn't make a mouthful.
But maybe there's more where he came from.
Dwarves! I'm done for. Done for it!
Dwarves?
That's our supper!
Let's go get 'em all!
Let's roast them.
No, boil them, says I!
It's to his own, boys!
There's plenty for all.
I likes mine roast.
Dawn take you all, and be stone to you!
The sun!
Blessed it!
How did the morning come so soon?
We're done for!
Excellent.
One moment.
One moment!
Where's that bumbling burgler?
Lucky number, indeed!
Over here!
Come and see what I've found!
Not bad, burgler,
for your first attempt.
Oh, it was nothing, actually.
We'll keep these.
Deucedly fine blades.
Considering they
were made by trolls.
They don't seem like
troll blades to me.
Probably stolen.
- See these strange runes?
- Whatever are runes?
Ancient writing. Mine has
them too. Can you make them out?
I'm not familiar with these letters.
Well, whoever made them,
we've got them now!
Cover up the treasure, men.
We'll fetch it on our return.
Take that, Smaug, you filthy worm!
I see you've also claimed a sword.
Yes. Just a dagger, actually.
But for one of my size, it suffices.
Hurry men, we must be on our way!
- Hold!
- Hold?
It is time for you to have this.
And what may that be?
This is a map of Lonely Mountain...
Presented to me one hundred
years ago by your father.
What? Why did you not come
to me? The rightful heir?
I've chosen my own time to hand it over.
Oh, I do love maps.
I have quite a collection.
Ah, I remember the Mountain
whether not without this!
Indeed? And how do you intend
to enter Smaug's chambers?
Through the main gate?
As a house guest?
You'd be ash before
you took your seventh step.
Oh, see, look!
This hand points from these runes to...
Bless my soul!
A secret entrance!
- A hidden passage to the Lower Halls!
- Excellent, burgler!
- I'm really quite good with maps.
- Let me see.
Yes, quite correct.
But, has it remained
a secret all these years?
It's too small for Smaug to use.
And it's covered by a door made looking
exactly like the side of the mountain.
Here is the key. Keep it safe.
But of course I will!
But... if the secret door
is hidden, how do we find it?
- The map doesn't tell.
- It does and it doesn't.
You will understand in time.
Behold, at last. Rivendell!
The hidden valley of the elves,
where Elrond dwelles.
Simply enchanting!
- But we must be on.
- Pity.
Elvish singing is not a thing to miss...
... in June under
the stars. But...
My dear Elrond,
your hospitality is magnificent.
The food, the vine,
the stories, the music.
Yes, but we've
much to accomplish.
You promised to have a look
at these troll swords after all feast.
Yes, yes, of course.
The first of all,
they're not troll-make.
They must have been stolen.
They were made for the goblin-wars.
This sword, Thorin, the runes name
Orcrist, the Goblin-cleaver.
- And mine?
- Glamdring, the Foe-hammer.
- Keep them well.
- I will keep this in honour.
- Now show me your map.
- I have it here.
Something's strange. Let's see.
Yes, indeed!
There are moon-letters here! See?
What are moon-letters?
Runes that can only be seen
when the moon shines behind them.
They give directions
for finding the secret door.
"Stand by the grey stone
when the thrush knocks,
... and the last light
of the setting sun...
... will shine upon the keyhole."
This way!
Shelter!
A dry cave!
Now, get some sleep, men.
We found a perfect place to camp.
Dwarves have a strange
notion of perfection.
And where's Gandalf?
Gone again?
I wish I was a wizard!
Hello! What's this?
Look out!
The ponies! The ponies!
Wake up! We've been robbed!
The goblins are upon us!
Save the ponies from the goblins!
Trapped!
The goblins have us!
Who are these miserable persons?
Thorin, at your service.
We did not mean to trespass.
We were merely seeking
shelter from the storm.
He is a liar, oh,
truly tremendous one.
Ask him to explain his weapon!
This sword is named Orcrist,
the Goblin-cleaver!
Murderers!
Elf-friends!
Stop!
I know that sword!
It is called: Glamdring,
the Foe-hammer!
Gandalf! Good old Gandalf!
Follow me! Quickly!
Through here! Follow me!
Bilbo!
He is gone!
Bilbo, where are you?
My precious.
It is my precious.
Hello, my precious.
Bless us and splash us.
Food for my precious.
Eggs and bacon. ---.
--- and sweet butter.
What is that noise, my precious?
My precious does not know.
Bless my soul!
Hello! What's this?
A souvenir to show the neighbours
back home. If I ever get home.
Oh, who are you?
Bless us, my precious.
A tasty morsel it would make us.
What is it, my precious?
I am Mr. Bilbo Baggins.
I've lost my dwarves,
my wizard and my way.
Mind you, I'm armed
with an elvish blade!
That's better.
Perhaps you know the way out?
Perhaps ye sits here...
... and chats with it
a bitsy, my preciousss.
It... likes ... riddles?
Do I like riddles?
Well, yes, after a fashion.
It must have
a competition with us.
If precious asks
and it doesn't answer...
... we eat it, my precious.
Oh, I say!
But if it asks us...
... and we doesn't answer...
... then we...
... shows it...
...the way out!
- It seems I have no choice.
- My precious...
... we makes the first riddle.
Voiceless it cries,
Wingless flutters,
Toothless bites,
Mouthless mutters.
Can it...
... guess...
... the answer?
Half a moment.
Is it nice, my precious?
Is it juicy?
Gluey? Tacky?
Is it scrumptious?
If you please!
Wind!
Wind is the answer!
Now, my turn.
A box without hinges, key, or lid,
Yet golden treasure inside is hid,
Let us give us
a chance, my precious.
Eggs!
Eggs, it is!
Oh, buffer!
Us, now! Now, us, my precious.
I'm a quitter with anticipation!
Now...
This thing all things devours:
Birds, beasts, trees, flowers;
Gnaws iron, bites steel;
Grinds hard stones to meal;
Slays king, ruins town,
And beats high mountain down.
Well, interesting.
Yes, now, let me see.
What is the answer?
What is the answer?
Just a moment now!
My precious...
... will it taste delicious?
Yes! It will!
- Give me some time.
- What...
What does it say?
I said: time! Time!
Whatever is the matter?
It guess!
Time is the answer!
It is?
I knew it all along.
That's an old one.
Well, fun is fun.
Now couldn't we get out of here?
No! It's got to ask us another
riddle, my precious! Yes! Yes!
Oh, blessed! I can't
think of another one.
Ask! Ask!
Oh, very well.
- What have I got in my pocket?
- Not fair! Not fair...
to ask my precious...
... what it's got in
its nassty little...
... pocketses?
I'm sorry. That's my riddle.
If you can't guess it,
you lose. And show me out!
Oh, my precious loses!
But first...
... my precious shows it his...
... something pretty.
- You wish to show me something?
- My birthday present.
Wait! Where are you going?
My precious finds a ring...
... on his birthday...
...long ago.
A golden ring.
A magic ring!
We must get my precious, my birthday
present, from its hiding place.
Now, what?
You'll never guess
my pocket contains this.
Bless my soul!
Where is it?
My golden ring!
My magic ring!
It is lost!
Lost!
Lost!
Precious! My precious!
My ring, lost!
My precious remembers.
He wears it before...
... and he drops it on the shore!
Curse it! Curse the Baggins!
He found it!
My ring!
My birthday present!
Am I he does carry on?
Bless my soul!
The ring?
Yes, most definitely.
My precious! We find it!
We find it! The Baggins.
My precious will crush it...
... and smash it!
Better does this.
Where is it?
Where is it?
It is tricksy.
It says it doesn't know
the way out...
... but it knows a way in,
my precious.
It must...
... know a way out!
It's off to the back door.
My precious must make haste
to the back door.
To the back door!
How convenient.
Well, follow the leader.
It's not here, my precious.
Escaped! Escaped!
Thief!
Thief!
Baggins!
We hate it!
Hate it for ever!
You see, Gollum thought I knew the way out,
and wished trying to head me off.
I merely followed him to the exit.
We had to fight our way
through the goblin guard.
- How is it they didn't see you?
- Oh, well...
... the art of burgling is really, you know,...
... the art of being unobtrusive.
Invisible, sort of speak.
Your story, Bilbo, has the ring of truth.
Yes, it rings true.
You need say no more. We best gotta move on.
There are still goblins about.
Oh, bother! More mountains?
No. Don't you see?
The sun is setting in the west,
behind the mountains.
We are on the other side
to the edge of the Land Beyond.
- A warg!
- With the goblins!
- Help!
- We can't crawl any higher!
- Oh, my arms.
- My poor legs! My legs!
But what do they do with us?
Drop us to our deaths?
Who knows?
But they've brought us of far
distance with no dropping!
Yehoo! The river of Wilderland below!
My thunder!
They're taking us to the edge
of Mirkwood Forest...
... to dash us against those rocks,
I know it!
Oh, great lord of eagles...
... we are eternally grateful
for your gallant rescue.
I have not forgotten the arrow...
... that brought me down so many years ago.
I have not forgotten the wizard...
... who found me and healed my wound.
And now...
...farewell, wherever you fare...
... to your aeries receive you
at the journey's end.
So this is the forest of Mirkwood.
Terrible place if I remember.
And dangerous.
No-no. The map shows the safest path.
Follow it closely,
straight through the forest.
Don't stray off the track. If you do,
you will never get out of Mirkwood.
You speak as if you ain't going with us.
I'm not. I have pressing business away south.
- Oh, no! He can't mean it!
- What will we do without Gandalf?
Please, don't leave us.
No-no. I'm already late because of
bothering with you, people.
I'm sending Mr. Baggins with you.
That should be enough.
- Mr. Baggins?
- Bilbo?
The burglar?
Me? I'm no equal to a wizard!
Nonsense. You are the lucky number.
And soon you'll find out there's
more about you than you guess.
You, sir, will be my surrogate.
My replacement, so the same.
Here is paper and a marker. Keep a
strict log, the remainder of your journey.
... so I may study it when we meet again
and point out your missed steps.
I can only do my best.
Then, I'll have to suffice.
To Gandalf:
As per your instructions...
... I'm keeping this log of our
journey through Mirkwood forest.
I should make good use of it some day
as a base of my memoirs.
...which I intend to call:
There and back again: a hobbit's holiday.
The days are terrible,
and the nights are impossible...
... for we are hungry and thirsty.
The berries which grow here are hideous.
Everything about these woods is unpleasant.
One day we decided someone...
... should climb to the top of the
tallest tree and have a look about.
I couldn't argue. My contract
is vague on several points.
There are moments...
... which can change a person for all time.
And I suddenly wondered if I would
ever see my snug hobbit hole again.
I wondered, if I actually wanted to.
I awoke the next morning
to a hideous surprise.
Now I will give you a name.
And I shall call you Sting!
The remainder of the morning
I was spending seeking my companions.
And I found them, finally,
in a place as black and terrible...
... as a patch of midnight that
had never been cleared away.
They'll make fine eating...
... when they hung a day!
Go away!
Go away!
Bombur!
I certainly could not let
my companions, my comrades...
... become of meal for these hideous spiders.
Action was called for.
Now you are all free. I know, the
spiders' poison have made you weak,
but you must follow me. Quickly!
Look! On the path ahead! There it is.
It has freed our supper!
Now we see you again!
We will eat you and leave
your skin hanging in a tree.
Grab it!
I think I can hold them on!
Run to the wood-elves' clearing!
But, how can you...
I will do the stinging. Run.
Swiftly, now!
We have trapped them now.
Close the circle.
It can't escape us!
Lazy Lob!
Attercop!
My bless! What is it?
Sting! Sting! Sting!
Away! Retreat!
We are no match for Sting!
I joined my companions at
the clearing of the wood-elves.
But when I found them,
I was in for another surprise.
The wood-elves had returned,
but armed for battle.
The dwarves, weakened as they were
by the encounter with the spiders...
... gave up without a struggle.
We travelled all day and into the night.
Finally, we came to the palace
of the elf king...
... which was of the very
eastern edge of the forest.
We'd come all the way through...
... only to end up as prisoners.
- Why did you dwarves try to attack?
- No attack!
We came to beg!
We were starving!
And why were you in the forest
in the first place?
- That is our business.
- Very well.
Take them away until they are
feeling inclined to tell the truth...
... even if they wait a hundred years!
Greed. The fortune we were after
was big enough to share with the elves.
They'd make valuable allies
against that old worm Smaug.
Instead, they became the enemy
and we were their prisoners.
And even though my invisibility
allowed me to move about with ease...
... I had no way of opening the locks.
So it was weeks before I found
a way to free my companions.
Part of the river flowed under the caves.
Deliveries of fine wines were
brought up the river by human men...
... who lived on Long Lake.
Now wood-elves enjoyed their wine
and the barrels were soon drained.
Oh, stop complaining!
I never promised to burgle you
first class accomodation.
I'd come far and through
many adventures to see it...
... and now I did not like
the look of it at all!
Within hours we reached the colony
of humans called Lake-town.
A precise, if not too imaginative name...
... but the village was actually
built on the surface of Long Lake.
Here, the descendants of the men
of Dale still dare to dwell...
... and do business in the shadow
of old Smaug's mountain.
I am Thorin...
... grand son of King under the Mountain!
I have returned!
Hail, Thorin Oakenshield.
I am Bard the guardsman.
We are honoured by your presence.
Your grandfather lives
in our songs and legends.
What help we can offer will be yours,
and we trust to your gratitude...
... the dragon Smaug is killed
and your kingdom is regained.
We were fed, fattened, given supplies...
... and two weeks later found us
near in the end of our journey.
And chances were, it would be
a very horrible end, indeed.
That smell!
I've not smelled a dragon before!
All the halls within must be
filled with his foul reek.
And while Smaug slept inside...
... we spent our days searching for
that illusive secret door.
Then, one afternoon...
And so, Gandalf, while I wait,
I inscribe the final pages of your log.
My only companion is an annoying bird
cracking snails.
"Stand by the grey stone
when the thrush knocks,
... and the last light
of the setting sun...
... will shine upon the keyhole."
Oh, my goodness!
Wake up! Wake up! It's happening!
My thunder!
There it is!
Thorin, before it's gone again,
use your key.
Well, here we are.
But, what now?
Now is the time for our esteemed
Mr. Baggins to perform the service...
... for which he was included
in our company.
- Me?
- You must earn your reward. We do have a contract.
You think it's my job: to go in first?
I've already got you out of two
messes not in the original bargain.
And who will come with me?
Any of you?
I see.
Well, you are the burglar.
Go down and burgle something.
Very well. I won't refuse.
Good luck.
Thank you.
I've begun to trust my luck
more than in the old days.
Now, you're in for it at last, Bilbo Baggins.
Why are you here? You've no use
for dragon treasures.
Feel the worm's heat, Mr. Baggins?
A few more steps and you shall see...
... the old dragon Smaug at last.
You can still turn back, you know.
But to go on, to take those steps...
... that would be the bravest
of all moments.
Whatever happens afterwards is nothing.
Yes, here is where...
... you fight your real battle,
Mr. Bilbo Baggins.
Do you go back?
Well, thief...
... I smell you, feel your air.
I hear your breath.
Come on!
Help yourself. There is plenty and to spare.
Oh, thank you, oh, Smaug the Magnificent.
I did not come for presents.
I only wish to have a look at you...
... and see if you are truly
as great as tales say.
I did not believe them.
Do you, now?
They fall utterly short of the reality...
... oh Smaug, the Chiefest and Greatest of Calamities!
You have nice manners for a thief...
... and a liar.
You know me...
... but I don't remember smelling you before.
Who are you and where do you come from?
I come from under the hill.
And under the hill and over the hills my paths led.
And through the air.
I am he that walks unseen.
You make riddles?
What is your name?
I am the lucky number,
the web-cutter, the spider sting...
Lovely titles.
I am he that drowns his friends
and draws them alive again from the water.
I am the guest of eagles,
the Ringwinner, and the Luckwearer.
... the clue-finder and the Barrel-rider.
Barrel-rider, eh?
Then I have guessed your riddle!
You are one of those miserable...
... tub-trading lakemen!
You and your town shall pay
dearly for this intrusion!
So the lakemen would steal my treasure?
Wait! You don't know everything.
Not gold alone brought me hither.
Be done with your riddles!
What else got you, Lakeman?
Revenge!
Revenge?
Surely you must realized
that your success...
... has made you some bitter enemies.
Revenge? You? Ha!
I am Smaug!
I kill what I wish!
I am strong...
... strong...
... strong!
My armor is like tenfold shields...
... my teeth are like swords...
... my claws, spears...
... the shock of my tail...
... a thunderbolt!
My wings...
... a hurricane!
And my breath...
... death!
Well?
Well?
Where are your riddles now?
Very, very impressive.
However...
... I have always understood
that dragons...
... were soft underneath. Vulnerable.
Especially, in the region of the chest.
You have heard wrong!
I am armoured above and below
Well, I don't know about that.
"You don't know about that."
I shall show you!
Look!
What do you say to this?
Rare and wonderful, eh?
Dazzling!
Marvellous!
Perfect!
Flawless!
Staggering! Mag...
Old fool!
There is a patch in the hollow
of your left breast...
... as bare as a snail out of its shell.
What's that?
More riddles?
No, my riddling is done.
I really must not detain
Your Magnificence any longer.
Sorry you could not find me.
But a fine burglar takes expert catching.
Burgler?
Burgler!
Thief! Fire! Murder!
- We should have gone with him.
- To be roasted alive?
It's the burglar!
Three cheers for good old Bilbo!
Thank you! But I'd appreciate
a more pragmatic salute.
In other words...
... extinguish me!
There we go! There we go!
Always glad to help a friend.
I can' tell you how grateful I am.
Oh, never mind that. What did you burgle?
This.
What's that?
Earthquake?
Into the secret passage! Our only chance!
Barrel-rider!
Thief Lakemen!
Your people shall see my vengeance!
The lake people are doomed, unless...
Yes, you! You are a mere trush,
and yet, so much more.
You have seen Smaug.
You know his vulnerable spot!
Go now! To Lake-town!
There's a guardsman, Bard. Tell him!
This breeze is strangely warm for autumn.
Bard! What's that?
The dragon is coming, or I'm a fool!
Cut the bridges! To arms! To arms!
The dragon! Old Smaug!
Awake after all these years!
The dragon is coming!
Ready? As he passes over...
Arrows!
--- Rearm!
Away, you fool bird! Away!
You speak?
Bilbo Baggins?
He found what?
Yes! I'll look!
You speak the truth, old thrush!
Black arrow, you've never failed me.
And I've always recovered you.
I had you from my father and he from of old.
If ever you came from the forges of
the true King under the Mountain...
... go now and speed well!
Now I am king!
Stop!
There is only one King under
the Mountain, and I am he...
... Thorin!
Hail Thorin!
Hip hip hurrah! Hip hip hurrah!
Now, now...
... much have be done.
We must cataloge our wealth.
Dear me! And pack it for shipment.
Join the fun, burgler! Part of this is yours!
Might be mine! What if Smaug returns?
Oh, he've gone for a week now!
Found greener pastures, no doubt.
Has this wealth made you mad?
We must find our way
out of this mountain...
... and see for ourselves
if he's gone, and quickly!
According to this map, the main gate
lies in this direction.
Follow me, gentlemen!
Bless my soul!
What are they?
Is the entire valley flowed?
Populated by giant fireflies?
Not fireflies! Fires! Campfires!
Nonsense! Not an army would need
that many fires.
No, my friend. Two armies!
Bard of Lake-town? What did you say?
Two armies!
Smaug is dead. I have slein him.
The thrush delivered your message.
Really? Splendid news, our fellow!I hoped he would!
My people have made me king.
King? Really? Congratulations!
Couldn't happen to a nicer chap. Really!
I don't know how to thank you.
Our town is destroyed and must be rebuilt.
You can thank us by sharing your fortune.
Why of course, of course.
There's plenty for all.
Wait! The fortune is ours!
And belongs to dwarves alone!
It wouldn't be yours if Smaug do lived.
A technicality.
- So you brought two armies to take it?
- I brought one army.
The other is mine!
You, who threw us into the dungeon?
My people have suffered greatly
from the worm through the years.
We demand retribution.
Never!
But why not? There's enough
for all in this mountain.
It's a matter of principle, of honour!
Then, tomorrow we take it!
We will meet at sunrise on the field of battle.
You realize you're hopelessly outnumbered.
This is ridiculous!
Quiet! What does a burgler
know of these matters?
Then tomorrow, it is!
This is deucedly uncomfortable.
I'm certain to get a rash.
That armor was forged
in the foundries of my grandfather.
Wear it proudly and it will
carry you to victory!
--- and be bothered victory!
My only hope is to be taken prisoner
as quickly as possible.
Those are the words of a covard.
The covard who flushed out Smaug?
The covard who saved you
time and time again?
The covard who always went forward
while you cringed behind?
You don't see us cringing now, do you?
This is madness!
Fourteen against ten thousand...
... and yet to march off
to certain destruction...
... as if you were on your way
for another tea-party.
Your kind will never understand war, hobbit.
This is war! War!
Our lookout has found something!
Oh, great King under the Mountain!
- Balin, it's only Thorin!
- Quiet!
- Yes, general?
- "General"?
Another army approaches from the north-east!
An army of our kind. An army of dwarves!
- My cousin Dain from the Iron Hills?
- Non other!
Ha! Now, we are not outnumbered!
Now we have an army!
- A battle of three armies?
- To war!
Onward!
Forward!
To battle!
- scurvy dwarves!
- Thieving dwarves!
Kill them!
- Chop them!
- Take their heads!
Kill the men! Kill the elves!
Save the gold for ourselves!
Personally, I would be back in Hobbiton.
- Who's that old man?
- Get out of the way!
- Move, you old fool!
Old fool?
Gandalf!
Halt!
I would speak with the kings!
Dread has come upon you all!
An army of goblins with claim
to the treasure comes from the north!
Behold!
They ride on wolves!
Oh, great Elf King, my truest friend and ally.
We must join our forces
against this common scourge.
But of course, oh noble
King under the Mountain.
Your people are like brothers onto mine.
And my men and all their weapons
are as one with yours.
Together we will vanquish the foul foe!
Together!
Thorin is correct.
I simply do not understand war.
A battle of four armies.
One, two, three... yes, four!
Our cause is hopeless!
The goblins are too powerful!
But we'll spill much of their blood
before the day has finished.
If these be our last moments, men,
let us live them with honour.
Hold! All is not lost.
The goblins have many enemies.
There is yet still another army on the way.
The eagles!
Five armies now?
Mr. Bilbo Baggins, enough is enough.
Bombur! You're hurt!
I still live. And you?
A slight wound. Crack on the head.
Out for hours. What happened?
We won.
Bombur gone, too?
Of our original thirteen, how many are left?
Seven.
And Thorin?
Soon will be only six.
I have brought him.
Farewell, good thief.
I wish to part in friendship...
... and would take back
my words at the Gate.
There are many words I would take back also.
And does it take this...
... to make us each other?
- Thorin!
- Hush!
You are no covard, my friend.
I am sorry I so named you.
- This is not important...
- And I was wrong.
You did understand war.
It was I who did not.
Until now.
Farewell, King under the Mountain.
Child of the kindly west.
I have come to know...
... If more of us valued your ways,...
... food and cheer above hoarded gold,...
... it would be a merrier world.
But sad or merry...
... I must leave it now.
- Farewell.
- Farewell, Thorin.
You take only two tiny bags of gold
home with you?
Your share was greater.
It's all my pony could carry,
and it's more than I'll ever need.
But you have other prizes.
The ring? Oh, yes.
I'll keep it as a souvenir
in a glass box, on the mantel.
And so, the prophecies of all
have come true.
Smaug is gone and the goblins driven away.
The dwarves and elves live in peace...
... and the men thrive,
multiply and build a civilization.
Prophecies!
- What?
- I had a hand in all that!
Surely you don't disbelieve the prophecies
because you helped bring them about?
You don't really suppose, do you,...
... that all your adventures and
escapes were managed by mere luck...
... just for your sole benefit?
You're a very fine person, Mr. Baggins.
And I'm very fond of you...
... but you're only quite a little
fellow in a wide world, after all.
Thank goodness!
Yes, you'll returned your home...
... place your souvenir ring
on your mantel...
... publish your story, which
you believe has come to its end...
What dod you mean:
"believe it has come to an end"?
It has, hasn't it?
Oh, Bilbo Baggins,
if you really understood that ring...
... - but someday members of
your family not yet born will - ...
... then you'd realize
that this story has not ended...
... but is only beginning.
In a hole in the ground
there lived a hobbit.
Many ages ago, when this ancient
planet was not quite so ancient...
... long before men
recorded his history...
... here was the time of Middle Earth,
where men shared his days with...
... elves, dwarves, wizards,
goblins, dragons and... hobbits.
In the lands of Middle Earth,
in an area known as the Shire...
... It was a village named
Hobbiton.
There, in a hole in the ground
there lived a hobbit.
Not a nasty, dirty, wet hole,
nor a dry, bare, sandy hole.
It was a hobbit-hole,
and that means comfort.
Bilbo Baggins?
Yes?
- I'm looking to hire a burglar.
- Burglar?
I'm afraid you've come
to the wrong place.
You mean you do not wish
to share a grand adventure?
Dear, me? No!
We hobbits are plain quiet folk.
Adventures make one late for dinner.
Enough! I'm Gandalf.
And Gandalf means me!
- Gandalf? Not the wondering wizard?
- The same!
Listen.
Thorin and company, at your service.
Dwalin, Balin...
...Kili, Fili...
...Dori, Nori and Ori.
Oin, sir. And Gloin, sir.
Calling Bifur. And him, Bofur.
And Bombur at your service.
We are all at your service.
What do these dwarves
want in Hobbiton?
They've come for tea, and for supper...
... and for you, Burgler Baggins!
- There's a magic in that music.
- And it moves through me.
- You feel the love of beautiful things.
- To go and see the great mountains...
... and hear the pine-trees and waterfalls.
To wear a sword instead of a walking-stick.
Just once.
Gandalf, dwarves and Burgler Baggins...
What is this burgler business?
If you prefer, you can say
"expert treasure-hunter".
Well, yes, I do prefer that.
We have met tonight,
in the house of our friend...
... this most excellent hobbit.
May the hair on his toes never fall out!
Cheer-cheer!
We shall soon start on our long journey,
Our object is, I take it,
well known to us.
All of us?
It is not well known to me.
Really? Then we must inform our burgler.
We seek a treasure...
... that which is rightfully ours.
Far off in the East...
... beyond the Misty Mountains
and the dark forest of Mirkwood...
... there you will find Lonely Mountain.
Long ago, this was the home of my people...
... and was ruled by my grandfather:
King under the Mountain.
The dwarves of yore made mighty spells,
While hammers fell like ringing bells
In places deep, where dark things sleep,
In hollow halls beneath the fells.
Goblets they carved there for themselves
And harps of gold; where no man delves
There lay they long, and many a song
Was sung unheard by men or elves.
For ancient king and elvish lord
There many a gloaming golden hoard
They shaped and wrought, and light they caught
To hide in gems on hilt of sword.
On silver necklaces they strung
The flowering stars, on crowns they hung
The dragon-fire, in twisted wire
They meshed the light of moon and sun.
Undoubtedly all this wealth was
what brought the dragon.
The pines were roaring on the height,
The winds were moaning in the night.
The fire was red, it flaming spread;
The trees like torches biased with light,
And below us, in the valley lay Dale...
... the town of mortal men.
The bells were ringing in the dale
And men looked up with faces pale;
The dragon's ire more fierce than fire
Laid low their towers and houses frail.
The mountain smoked beneath the moon;
The dwarves, they heard the tramp of doom.
They fled their hall to dying -fall
Beneath his feet, beneath the moon.
Curses to the dragon!
Curses to Smaug!
He killed our men and stole our gold!
Curses to the dragon Smaug!
Is this the adventure you've planned for me?
To help you recapture the gold?
Non other.
There are thirteen of you. Very unlucky.
Mr. Baggins will make it fourteen.
A splendid lucky number you've found for us.
No arguments. Let us have the contract.
"To Burgler Baggins. Terms for your
professional services.
One fourteenth of total profits,
travelling expenses guarenteed.
Funeral expenses if necessary.
Sincerely, Thorin and company."
- Funeral expenses?
- Do you find the terms acceptable?
- Of course he does!
- But, but I...
So, tomorrow begins your greatest adventure.
The Hobbit
No hat, no stick, no pipe.
Not even a pocket-handkerchief.
How can one survive?
- How did Gandalf get ahead of us, Bombur?
- He comes and goes with will.
He is a wizard, you know.
Oh, bother burgling and
everything to do with it.
Always remember, Bilbo,
when your heart wants lifting...
... think of pleasant things.
Eggs and bacon, a good full pipe,
My garden at twilight. Cakes...
We'll camp here. Perhaps we can find
a dry patch to sleep on.
Our lookout has found something.
Look. Trolls!
Miserable, no good robbing trolls.
Where the deuce is Gandalf?
Left us again. Just when a wizard
would have been most useful.
No matter. We have
an expert burgler with us.
- What have trolls to do with burgling?
- You could use some of that meat they're cooking.
- Oh, I say!
- Burgler, do your burgling!
Blasted!
Nothing but mutton to eat!
How I...
... look for a bit of bad flesh!
Bacon and eggs. My fireplace. Hot chestnuts.
- What the blazes?
- Help! Help! Let me down! Stop that! Stop that!
What have we got here?
Let's cook him and find out!
He wouldn't make a mouthful.
But maybe there's more where he came from.
Dwarves! I'm done for. Done for it!
Dwarves?
That's our supper!
Let's go get 'em all!
Let's roast them.
No, boil them, says I!
It's to his own, boys!
There's plenty for all.
I likes mine roast.
Dawn take you all, and be stone to you!
The sun!
Blessed it!
How did the morning come so soon?
We're done for!
Excellent.
One moment.
One moment!
Where's that bumbling burgler?
Lucky number, indeed!
Over here!
Come and see what I've found!
Not bad, burgler,
for your first attempt.
Oh, it was nothing, actually.
We'll keep these.
Deucedly fine blades.
Considering they
were made by trolls.
They don't seem like
troll blades to me.
Probably stolen.
- See these strange runes?
- Whatever are runes?
Ancient writing. Mine has
them too. Can you make them out?
I'm not familiar with these letters.
Well, whoever made them,
we've got them now!
Cover up the treasure, men.
We'll fetch it on our return.
Take that, Smaug, you filthy worm!
I see you've also claimed a sword.
Yes. Just a dagger, actually.
But for one of my size, it suffices.
Hurry men, we must be on our way!
- Hold!
- Hold?
It is time for you to have this.
And what may that be?
This is a map of Lonely Mountain...
Presented to me one hundred
years ago by your father.
What? Why did you not come
to me? The rightful heir?
I've chosen my own time to hand it over.
Oh, I do love maps.
I have quite a collection.
Ah, I remember the Mountain
whether not without this!
Indeed? And how do you intend
to enter Smaug's chambers?
Through the main gate?
As a house guest?
You'd be ash before
you took your seventh step.
Oh, see, look!
This hand points from these runes to...
Bless my soul!
A secret entrance!
- A hidden passage to the Lower Halls!
- Excellent, burgler!
- I'm really quite good with maps.
- Let me see.
Yes, quite correct.
But, has it remained
a secret all these years?
It's too small for Smaug to use.
And it's covered by a door made looking
exactly like the side of the mountain.
Here is the key. Keep it safe.
But of course I will!
But... if the secret door
is hidden, how do we find it?
- The map doesn't tell.
- It does and it doesn't.
You will understand in time.
Behold, at last. Rivendell!
The hidden valley of the elves,
where Elrond dwelles.
Simply enchanting!
- But we must be on.
- Pity.
Elvish singing is not a thing to miss...
... in June under
the stars. But...
My dear Elrond,
your hospitality is magnificent.
The food, the vine,
the stories, the music.
Yes, but we've
much to accomplish.
You promised to have a look
at these troll swords after all feast.
Yes, yes, of course.
The first of all,
they're not troll-make.
They must have been stolen.
They were made for the goblin-wars.
This sword, Thorin, the runes name
Orcrist, the Goblin-cleaver.
- And mine?
- Glamdring, the Foe-hammer.
- Keep them well.
- I will keep this in honour.
- Now show me your map.
- I have it here.
Something's strange. Let's see.
Yes, indeed!
There are moon-letters here! See?
What are moon-letters?
Runes that can only be seen
when the moon shines behind them.
They give directions
for finding the secret door.
"Stand by the grey stone
when the thrush knocks,
... and the last light
of the setting sun...
... will shine upon the keyhole."
This way!
Shelter!
A dry cave!
Now, get some sleep, men.
We found a perfect place to camp.
Dwarves have a strange
notion of perfection.
And where's Gandalf?
Gone again?
I wish I was a wizard!
Hello! What's this?
Look out!
The ponies! The ponies!
Wake up! We've been robbed!
The goblins are upon us!
Save the ponies from the goblins!
Trapped!
The goblins have us!
Who are these miserable persons?
Thorin, at your service.
We did not mean to trespass.
We were merely seeking
shelter from the storm.
He is a liar, oh,
truly tremendous one.
Ask him to explain his weapon!
This sword is named Orcrist,
the Goblin-cleaver!
Murderers!
Elf-friends!
Stop!
I know that sword!
It is called: Glamdring,
the Foe-hammer!
Gandalf! Good old Gandalf!
Follow me! Quickly!
Through here! Follow me!
Bilbo!
He is gone!
Bilbo, where are you?
My precious.
It is my precious.
Hello, my precious.
Bless us and splash us.
Food for my precious.
Eggs and bacon. ---.
--- and sweet butter.
What is that noise, my precious?
My precious does not know.
Bless my soul!
Hello! What's this?
A souvenir to show the neighbours
back home. If I ever get home.
Oh, who are you?
Bless us, my precious.
A tasty morsel it would make us.
What is it, my precious?
I am Mr. Bilbo Baggins.
I've lost my dwarves,
my wizard and my way.
Mind you, I'm armed
with an elvish blade!
That's better.
Perhaps you know the way out?
Perhaps ye sits here...
... and chats with it
a bitsy, my preciousss.
It... likes ... riddles?
Do I like riddles?
Well, yes, after a fashion.
It must have
a competition with us.
If precious asks
and it doesn't answer...
... we eat it, my precious.
Oh, I say!
But if it asks us...
... and we doesn't answer...
... then we...
... shows it...
...the way out!
- It seems I have no choice.
- My precious...
... we makes the first riddle.
Voiceless it cries,
Wingless flutters,
Toothless bites,
Mouthless mutters.
Can it...
... guess...
... the answer?
Half a moment.
Is it nice, my precious?
Is it juicy?
Gluey? Tacky?
Is it scrumptious?
If you please!
Wind!
Wind is the answer!
Now, my turn.
A box without hinges, key, or lid,
Yet golden treasure inside is hid,
Let us give us
a chance, my precious.
Eggs!
Eggs, it is!
Oh, buffer!
Us, now! Now, us, my precious.
I'm a quitter with anticipation!
Now...
This thing all things devours:
Birds, beasts, trees, flowers;
Gnaws iron, bites steel;
Grinds hard stones to meal;
Slays king, ruins town,
And beats high mountain down.
Well, interesting.
Yes, now, let me see.
What is the answer?
What is the answer?
Just a moment now!
My precious...
... will it taste delicious?
Yes! It will!
- Give me some time.
- What...
What does it say?
I said: time! Time!
Whatever is the matter?
It guess!
Time is the answer!
It is?
I knew it all along.
That's an old one.
Well, fun is fun.
Now couldn't we get out of here?
No! It's got to ask us another
riddle, my precious! Yes! Yes!
Oh, blessed! I can't
think of another one.
Ask! Ask!
Oh, very well.
- What have I got in my pocket?
- Not fair! Not fair...
to ask my precious...
... what it's got in
its nassty little...
... pocketses?
I'm sorry. That's my riddle.
If you can't guess it,
you lose. And show me out!
Oh, my precious loses!
But first...
... my precious shows it his...
... something pretty.
- You wish to show me something?
- My birthday present.
Wait! Where are you going?
My precious finds a ring...
... on his birthday...
...long ago.
A golden ring.
A magic ring!
We must get my precious, my birthday
present, from its hiding place.
Now, what?
You'll never guess
my pocket contains this.
Bless my soul!
Where is it?
My golden ring!
My magic ring!
It is lost!
Lost!
Lost!
Precious! My precious!
My ring, lost!
My precious remembers.
He wears it before...
... and he drops it on the shore!
Curse it! Curse the Baggins!
He found it!
My ring!
My birthday present!
Am I he does carry on?
Bless my soul!
The ring?
Yes, most definitely.
My precious! We find it!
We find it! The Baggins.
My precious will crush it...
... and smash it!
Better does this.
Where is it?
Where is it?
It is tricksy.
It says it doesn't know
the way out...
... but it knows a way in,
my precious.
It must...
... know a way out!
It's off to the back door.
My precious must make haste
to the back door.
To the back door!
How convenient.
Well, follow the leader.
It's not here, my precious.
Escaped! Escaped!
Thief!
Thief!
Baggins!
We hate it!
Hate it for ever!
You see, Gollum thought I knew the way out,
and wished trying to head me off.
I merely followed him to the exit.
We had to fight our way
through the goblin guard.
- How is it they didn't see you?
- Oh, well...
... the art of burgling is really, you know,...
... the art of being unobtrusive.
Invisible, sort of speak.
Your story, Bilbo, has the ring of truth.
Yes, it rings true.
You need say no more. We best gotta move on.
There are still goblins about.
Oh, bother! More mountains?
No. Don't you see?
The sun is setting in the west,
behind the mountains.
We are on the other side
to the edge of the Land Beyond.
- A warg!
- With the goblins!
- Help!
- We can't crawl any higher!
- Oh, my arms.
- My poor legs! My legs!
But what do they do with us?
Drop us to our deaths?
Who knows?
But they've brought us of far
distance with no dropping!
Yehoo! The river of Wilderland below!
My thunder!
They're taking us to the edge
of Mirkwood Forest...
... to dash us against those rocks,
I know it!
Oh, great lord of eagles...
... we are eternally grateful
for your gallant rescue.
I have not forgotten the arrow...
... that brought me down so many years ago.
I have not forgotten the wizard...
... who found me and healed my wound.
And now...
...farewell, wherever you fare...
... to your aeries receive you
at the journey's end.
So this is the forest of Mirkwood.
Terrible place if I remember.
And dangerous.
No-no. The map shows the safest path.
Follow it closely,
straight through the forest.
Don't stray off the track. If you do,
you will never get out of Mirkwood.
You speak as if you ain't going with us.
I'm not. I have pressing business away south.
- Oh, no! He can't mean it!
- What will we do without Gandalf?
Please, don't leave us.
No-no. I'm already late because of
bothering with you, people.
I'm sending Mr. Baggins with you.
That should be enough.
- Mr. Baggins?
- Bilbo?
The burglar?
Me? I'm no equal to a wizard!
Nonsense. You are the lucky number.
And soon you'll find out there's
more about you than you guess.
You, sir, will be my surrogate.
My replacement, so the same.
Here is paper and a marker. Keep a
strict log, the remainder of your journey.
... so I may study it when we meet again
and point out your missed steps.
I can only do my best.
Then, I'll have to suffice.
To Gandalf:
As per your instructions...
... I'm keeping this log of our
journey through Mirkwood forest.
I should make good use of it some day
as a base of my memoirs.
...which I intend to call:
There and back again: a hobbit's holiday.
The days are terrible,
and the nights are impossible...
... for we are hungry and thirsty.
The berries which grow here are hideous.
Everything about these woods is unpleasant.
One day we decided someone...
... should climb to the top of the
tallest tree and have a look about.
I couldn't argue. My contract
is vague on several points.
There are moments...
... which can change a person for all time.
And I suddenly wondered if I would
ever see my snug hobbit hole again.
I wondered, if I actually wanted to.
I awoke the next morning
to a hideous surprise.
Now I will give you a name.
And I shall call you Sting!
The remainder of the morning
I was spending seeking my companions.
And I found them, finally,
in a place as black and terrible...
... as a patch of midnight that
had never been cleared away.
They'll make fine eating...
... when they hung a day!
Go away!
Go away!
Bombur!
I certainly could not let
my companions, my comrades...
... become of meal for these hideous spiders.
Action was called for.
Now you are all free. I know, the
spiders' poison have made you weak,
but you must follow me. Quickly!
Look! On the path ahead! There it is.
It has freed our supper!
Now we see you again!
We will eat you and leave
your skin hanging in a tree.
Grab it!
I think I can hold them on!
Run to the wood-elves' clearing!
But, how can you...
I will do the stinging. Run.
Swiftly, now!
We have trapped them now.
Close the circle.
It can't escape us!
Lazy Lob!
Attercop!
My bless! What is it?
Sting! Sting! Sting!
Away! Retreat!
We are no match for Sting!
I joined my companions at
the clearing of the wood-elves.
But when I found them,
I was in for another surprise.
The wood-elves had returned,
but armed for battle.
The dwarves, weakened as they were
by the encounter with the spiders...
... gave up without a struggle.
We travelled all day and into the night.
Finally, we came to the palace
of the elf king...
... which was of the very
eastern edge of the forest.
We'd come all the way through...
... only to end up as prisoners.
- Why did you dwarves try to attack?
- No attack!
We came to beg!
We were starving!
And why were you in the forest
in the first place?
- That is our business.
- Very well.
Take them away until they are
feeling inclined to tell the truth...
... even if they wait a hundred years!
Greed. The fortune we were after
was big enough to share with the elves.
They'd make valuable allies
against that old worm Smaug.
Instead, they became the enemy
and we were their prisoners.
And even though my invisibility
allowed me to move about with ease...
... I had no way of opening the locks.
So it was weeks before I found
a way to free my companions.
Part of the river flowed under the caves.
Deliveries of fine wines were
brought up the river by human men...
... who lived on Long Lake.
Now wood-elves enjoyed their wine
and the barrels were soon drained.
Oh, stop complaining!
I never promised to burgle you
first class accomodation.
I'd come far and through
many adventures to see it...
... and now I did not like
the look of it at all!
Within hours we reached the colony
of humans called Lake-town.
A precise, if not too imaginative name...
... but the village was actually
built on the surface of Long Lake.
Here, the descendants of the men
of Dale still dare to dwell...
... and do business in the shadow
of old Smaug's mountain.
I am Thorin...
... grand son of King under the Mountain!
I have returned!
Hail, Thorin Oakenshield.
I am Bard the guardsman.
We are honoured by your presence.
Your grandfather lives
in our songs and legends.
What help we can offer will be yours,
and we trust to your gratitude...
... the dragon Smaug is killed
and your kingdom is regained.
We were fed, fattened, given supplies...
... and two weeks later found us
near in the end of our journey.
And chances were, it would be
a very horrible end, indeed.
That smell!
I've not smelled a dragon before!
All the halls within must be
filled with his foul reek.
And while Smaug slept inside...
... we spent our days searching for
that illusive secret door.
Then, one afternoon...
And so, Gandalf, while I wait,
I inscribe the final pages of your log.
My only companion is an annoying bird
cracking snails.
"Stand by the grey stone
when the thrush knocks,
... and the last light
of the setting sun...
... will shine upon the keyhole."
Oh, my goodness!
Wake up! Wake up! It's happening!
My thunder!
There it is!
Thorin, before it's gone again,
use your key.
Well, here we are.
But, what now?
Now is the time for our esteemed
Mr. Baggins to perform the service...
... for which he was included
in our company.
- Me?
- You must earn your reward. We do have a contract.
You think it's my job: to go in first?
I've already got you out of two
messes not in the original bargain.
And who will come with me?
Any of you?
I see.
Well, you are the burglar.
Go down and burgle something.
Very well. I won't refuse.
Good luck.
Thank you.
I've begun to trust my luck
more than in the old days.
Now, you're in for it at last, Bilbo Baggins.
Why are you here? You've no use
for dragon treasures.
Feel the worm's heat, Mr. Baggins?
A few more steps and you shall see...
... the old dragon Smaug at last.
You can still turn back, you know.
But to go on, to take those steps...
... that would be the bravest
of all moments.
Whatever happens afterwards is nothing.
Yes, here is where...
... you fight your real battle,
Mr. Bilbo Baggins.
Do you go back?
Well, thief...
... I smell you, feel your air.
I hear your breath.
Come on!
Help yourself. There is plenty and to spare.
Oh, thank you, oh, Smaug the Magnificent.
I did not come for presents.
I only wish to have a look at you...
... and see if you are truly
as great as tales say.
I did not believe them.
Do you, now?
They fall utterly short of the reality...
... oh Smaug, the Chiefest and Greatest of Calamities!
You have nice manners for a thief...
... and a liar.
You know me...
... but I don't remember smelling you before.
Who are you and where do you come from?
I come from under the hill.
And under the hill and over the hills my paths led.
And through the air.
I am he that walks unseen.
You make riddles?
What is your name?
I am the lucky number,
the web-cutter, the spider sting...
Lovely titles.
I am he that drowns his friends
and draws them alive again from the water.
I am the guest of eagles,
the Ringwinner, and the Luckwearer.
... the clue-finder and the Barrel-rider.
Barrel-rider, eh?
Then I have guessed your riddle!
You are one of those miserable...
... tub-trading lakemen!
You and your town shall pay
dearly for this intrusion!
So the lakemen would steal my treasure?
Wait! You don't know everything.
Not gold alone brought me hither.
Be done with your riddles!
What else got you, Lakeman?
Revenge!
Revenge?
Surely you must realized
that your success...
... has made you some bitter enemies.
Revenge? You? Ha!
I am Smaug!
I kill what I wish!
I am strong...
... strong...
... strong!
My armor is like tenfold shields...
... my teeth are like swords...
... my claws, spears...
... the shock of my tail...
... a thunderbolt!
My wings...
... a hurricane!
And my breath...
... death!
Well?
Well?
Where are your riddles now?
Very, very impressive.
However...
... I have always understood
that dragons...
... were soft underneath. Vulnerable.
Especially, in the region of the chest.
You have heard wrong!
I am armoured above and below
Well, I don't know about that.
"You don't know about that."
I shall show you!
Look!
What do you say to this?
Rare and wonderful, eh?
Dazzling!
Marvellous!
Perfect!
Flawless!
Staggering! Mag...
Old fool!
There is a patch in the hollow
of your left breast...
... as bare as a snail out of its shell.
What's that?
More riddles?
No, my riddling is done.
I really must not detain
Your Magnificence any longer.
Sorry you could not find me.
But a fine burglar takes expert catching.
Burgler?
Burgler!
Thief! Fire! Murder!
- We should have gone with him.
- To be roasted alive?
It's the burglar!
Three cheers for good old Bilbo!
Thank you! But I'd appreciate
a more pragmatic salute.
In other words...
... extinguish me!
There we go! There we go!
Always glad to help a friend.
I can' tell you how grateful I am.
Oh, never mind that. What did you burgle?
This.
What's that?
Earthquake?
Into the secret passage! Our only chance!
Barrel-rider!
Thief Lakemen!
Your people shall see my vengeance!
The lake people are doomed, unless...
Yes, you! You are a mere trush,
and yet, so much more.
You have seen Smaug.
You know his vulnerable spot!
Go now! To Lake-town!
There's a guardsman, Bard. Tell him!
This breeze is strangely warm for autumn.
Bard! What's that?
The dragon is coming, or I'm a fool!
Cut the bridges! To arms! To arms!
The dragon! Old Smaug!
Awake after all these years!
The dragon is coming!
Ready? As he passes over...
Arrows!
--- Rearm!
Away, you fool bird! Away!
You speak?
Bilbo Baggins?
He found what?
Yes! I'll look!
You speak the truth, old thrush!
Black arrow, you've never failed me.
And I've always recovered you.
I had you from my father and he from of old.
If ever you came from the forges of
the true King under the Mountain...
... go now and speed well!
Now I am king!
Stop!
There is only one King under
the Mountain, and I am he...
... Thorin!
Hail Thorin!
Hip hip hurrah! Hip hip hurrah!
Now, now...
... much have be done.
We must cataloge our wealth.
Dear me! And pack it for shipment.
Join the fun, burgler! Part of this is yours!
Might be mine! What if Smaug returns?
Oh, he've gone for a week now!
Found greener pastures, no doubt.
Has this wealth made you mad?
We must find our way
out of this mountain...
... and see for ourselves
if he's gone, and quickly!
According to this map, the main gate
lies in this direction.
Follow me, gentlemen!
Bless my soul!
What are they?
Is the entire valley flowed?
Populated by giant fireflies?
Not fireflies! Fires! Campfires!
Nonsense! Not an army would need
that many fires.
No, my friend. Two armies!
Bard of Lake-town? What did you say?
Two armies!
Smaug is dead. I have slein him.
The thrush delivered your message.
Really? Splendid news, our fellow!I hoped he would!
My people have made me king.
King? Really? Congratulations!
Couldn't happen to a nicer chap. Really!
I don't know how to thank you.
Our town is destroyed and must be rebuilt.
You can thank us by sharing your fortune.
Why of course, of course.
There's plenty for all.
Wait! The fortune is ours!
And belongs to dwarves alone!
It wouldn't be yours if Smaug do lived.
A technicality.
- So you brought two armies to take it?
- I brought one army.
The other is mine!
You, who threw us into the dungeon?
My people have suffered greatly
from the worm through the years.
We demand retribution.
Never!
But why not? There's enough
for all in this mountain.
It's a matter of principle, of honour!
Then, tomorrow we take it!
We will meet at sunrise on the field of battle.
You realize you're hopelessly outnumbered.
This is ridiculous!
Quiet! What does a burgler
know of these matters?
Then tomorrow, it is!
This is deucedly uncomfortable.
I'm certain to get a rash.
That armor was forged
in the foundries of my grandfather.
Wear it proudly and it will
carry you to victory!
--- and be bothered victory!
My only hope is to be taken prisoner
as quickly as possible.
Those are the words of a covard.
The covard who flushed out Smaug?
The covard who saved you
time and time again?
The covard who always went forward
while you cringed behind?
You don't see us cringing now, do you?
This is madness!
Fourteen against ten thousand...
... and yet to march off
to certain destruction...
... as if you were on your way
for another tea-party.
Your kind will never understand war, hobbit.
This is war! War!
Our lookout has found something!
Oh, great King under the Mountain!
- Balin, it's only Thorin!
- Quiet!
- Yes, general?
- "General"?
Another army approaches from the north-east!
An army of our kind. An army of dwarves!
- My cousin Dain from the Iron Hills?
- Non other!
Ha! Now, we are not outnumbered!
Now we have an army!
- A battle of three armies?
- To war!
Onward!
Forward!
To battle!
- scurvy dwarves!
- Thieving dwarves!
Kill them!
- Chop them!
- Take their heads!
Kill the men! Kill the elves!
Save the gold for ourselves!
Personally, I would be back in Hobbiton.
- Who's that old man?
- Get out of the way!
- Move, you old fool!
Old fool?
Gandalf!
Halt!
I would speak with the kings!
Dread has come upon you all!
An army of goblins with claim
to the treasure comes from the north!
Behold!
They ride on wolves!
Oh, great Elf King, my truest friend and ally.
We must join our forces
against this common scourge.
But of course, oh noble
King under the Mountain.
Your people are like brothers onto mine.
And my men and all their weapons
are as one with yours.
Together we will vanquish the foul foe!
Together!
Thorin is correct.
I simply do not understand war.
A battle of four armies.
One, two, three... yes, four!
Our cause is hopeless!
The goblins are too powerful!
But we'll spill much of their blood
before the day has finished.
If these be our last moments, men,
let us live them with honour.
Hold! All is not lost.
The goblins have many enemies.
There is yet still another army on the way.
The eagles!
Five armies now?
Mr. Bilbo Baggins, enough is enough.
Bombur! You're hurt!
I still live. And you?
A slight wound. Crack on the head.
Out for hours. What happened?
We won.
Bombur gone, too?
Of our original thirteen, how many are left?
Seven.
And Thorin?
Soon will be only six.
I have brought him.
Farewell, good thief.
I wish to part in friendship...
... and would take back
my words at the Gate.
There are many words I would take back also.
And does it take this...
... to make us each other?
- Thorin!
- Hush!
You are no covard, my friend.
I am sorry I so named you.
- This is not important...
- And I was wrong.
You did understand war.
It was I who did not.
Until now.
Farewell, King under the Mountain.
Child of the kindly west.
I have come to know...
... If more of us valued your ways,...
... food and cheer above hoarded gold,...
... it would be a merrier world.
But sad or merry...
... I must leave it now.
- Farewell.
- Farewell, Thorin.
You take only two tiny bags of gold
home with you?
Your share was greater.
It's all my pony could carry,
and it's more than I'll ever need.
But you have other prizes.
The ring? Oh, yes.
I'll keep it as a souvenir
in a glass box, on the mantel.
And so, the prophecies of all
have come true.
Smaug is gone and the goblins driven away.
The dwarves and elves live in peace...
... and the men thrive,
multiply and build a civilization.
Prophecies!
- What?
- I had a hand in all that!
Surely you don't disbelieve the prophecies
because you helped bring them about?
You don't really suppose, do you,...
... that all your adventures and
escapes were managed by mere luck...
... just for your sole benefit?
You're a very fine person, Mr. Baggins.
And I'm very fond of you...
... but you're only quite a little
fellow in a wide world, after all.
Thank goodness!
Yes, you'll returned your home...
... place your souvenir ring
on your mantel...
... publish your story, which
you believe has come to its end...
What dod you mean:
"believe it has come to an end"?
It has, hasn't it?
Oh, Bilbo Baggins,
if you really understood that ring...
... - but someday members of
your family not yet born will - ...
... then you'd realize
that this story has not ended...
... but is only beginning.