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发表于 2003-10-23 20:27
"Undoubtedly that was what brought the dragon. Dragons steal gold and
jewels, you know, from men and elves and dwarves, wherever they can find
them; and they guard their plunder as long as they live (which is
practically forever, unless they are killed), and never enjoy a brass ring
of it. Indeed they hardly know a good bit of work from a bad, though they
usually have a good notion of the current market value; and they can't make
a thing for themselves, not even mend a little loose scale of their armour.
There were lots of dragons in the North in those days, and gold was probably
getting scarce up there, with the dwarves flying south or getting killed,
and all the general waste and destruction that dragons make going from bad
to worse. There was a most specially greedy, strong and wicked worm called
Smaug. One day he flew up into the air and came south. The first we heard of
it was a noise like a hurricane coming from the North, and the pine-trees on
the Mountain creaking and cracking in the wind. Some of the dwarves who
happened to be outside (I was one luckily -a fine adventurous lad in those
days, always wandering about, and it saved my life that day)-well, from a
good way off we saw the dragon settle on our mountain in a spout of flame.
Then he came down the slopes and when he reached the woods they all went up
in fire. By that time all the bells were ringing in Dale and the warriors
were arming. The dwarves rushed out of their great gate; but there was the
dragon waiting for them. None escaped that way. The river rushed up in steam
and a fog fell on Dale, and in the fog the dragon came on them and destroyed
most of the warriors-the usual unhappy story, it was only too common in
those days. Then he went back and crept in through the Front Gate and routed
out all the halls, and lanes, and tunnels, alleys, cellars, mansions and
passages. After that there were no dwarves left alive inside, and he took
all their wealth for himself. Probably, for that is the dragons' way, he has
piled it all up in a great heap far inside, and sleeps on it for a bed.
Later he used to crawl out of the great gate and come by night to Dale, and
carry away people, especially maidens, to eat, until Dale was ruined, and
all the people dead or gone. What goes on there now I don't know for
certain, but I don't suppose anyone lives nearer to the Mountain than the
far edge of the Long Lake now-a-days.
"The few of us that were well outside sat and wept in hiding, and
cursed Smaug; and there we were unexpectedly joined by my father and my
grandfather with singed beards. They looked very grim but they said very
little. When I asked how they had got away, they told me to hold my tongue,
and said that one day in the proper time I should know. After that we went
away, and we have had to earn our livings as best we could up and down the
lands, often enough sinking as low as blacksmith-work or even coalmining.
But we have never forgotten our stolen treasure. And even now, when I will
allow we have a good bit laid by and are not so badly off"-here Thorin
stroked the gold chain round his neck-"we still mean to get it back, and to
bring our curses home to Smaug-if we can.
"I have often wondered about my father's and my grandfather's escape. I
see now they must have had a private Side-door which only they knew about.
But apparently they made a map, and I should like to know how Gandalf got
hold of it, and why it did not come down to me, the rightful heir."
"I did not 'get hold of it,' I was given it," said the wizard.
"Your grandfather Thror was killed, you remember, in the mines of Moria
by Azog the Goblin --"
"Curse his name, yes," said Thorin.
"And Thrain your father went away on the twenty-first of April, a
hundred years ago last Thursday, and has never been seen by you since--"
"True, true," said Thorin.
"Well, your father gave me this to give to you; and if I have chosen my
own time and way of handing it over, you can hardly blame me, considering
the trouble I had to find you. Your father could not remember his own name
when he gave me the paper, and he never told me yours; so on the whole I
think I ought to be praised and thanked. Here it is," said he handing the
map to Thorin.
"I don't understand," said Thorin, and Bilbo felt he would have liked
to say the same. The explanation did not seem to explain.
"Your grandfather," said the wizard slowly and grimly, "gave the map to
his son for safety before he went to the mines of Moria. Your father went
away to try his luck with the map after your grandfather was killed; and
lots of adventures of a most unpleasant sort he had, but he never got near
the Mountain. How he got there I don't know, but I found him a prisoner in
the dungeons of the Necromancer."
"Whatever were you doing there?" asked Thorin with a shudder, and all
the dwarves shivered.
"Never you mind. I was finding things out, as usual; and a nasty
dangerous business it was. Even I, Gandalf, only just escaped. I tried to
save your father, but it was too late. He was witless and wandering, and had
forgotten almost everything except the map and the key." "We have long ago
paid the goblins of Moria," said Thorin; "we must give a thought to the
Necromancer." "Don't be absurd! He is an enemy quite beyond the powers of
all the dwarves put together, if they could all be collected again from the
four corners of the world. The one thing your father wished was for his son
to read the map and use the key. The dragon and the Mountain are more than
big enough tasks for you!"
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