#peter howe

This is my own transcript of the scene, not the official script.

A deserted place close to Mordor. FRODO, SAM and GOLLUM climb into view. The Hobbits are wearing their Elven cloaks. FRODO is more weary than before. GOLLUM points.

GOLLUM: There! There it is. Mount Doom.

SAM: Look at it, the way it lights up the sky - it reminds me of one of Mr Gandalf’s fireworks. Do you miss him?

FRODO: I miss his bushy eyebrows and his quick temper. And his voice. How far away are we, Sam?

SAM: Three days. Maybe four if we get all the cover we can.

FRODO: So close. 

SAM: (sitting down and unpacking his bag) Come on. Let’s eat something to keep our spirits up.

GOLLUM turns to the Hobbits and signals for them to follow him.

GOLLUM: Keep moving. Come. Come!

SAM: (to FRODO) No, no.

GOLLUM: (angry) Come!

SAM: (to GOLLUM) Wait! (to FRODO) You’re going to eat something, Frodo Baggins, before we take another step.

GOLLUM freezes and turns, hit by a sudden realisation.

GOLLUM: …Baggins? No no, not Baggins!

SAM: And then we’ll walk South to those… doomy fires, whatever they’re called so we’ll have this over with and get back to the Shire and how things used to be before we ever heard of magic rings and the like… (spotting something in his bag) Here, look. (he gets up and approaches FRODO) Lady Galadriel gave me this. It’s a box of earth from her orchard. She said it might reward us when we get home.

FRODO: I don’t know if things will ever be how they used to be, Sam. It’s something Lady Galadriel said in Lothlórien, and something she wouldn’t tell me. But I’ve worked it out. Remember when we left the Shire? We met those Elves heading West.

SAM: How could I forget?

FRODO: They were leaving, Sam. Soon they all will. If Sauron gets the One Ring again -

SAM: He won’t. We’re going to make sure he doesn’t.

FRODO: Whether we do or not, the Elves will still leave. Gandalf said it. If the One Ring goes, then all rings lose their power. You see, Lady Galadriel’s ring is what protects Lothlórien, it protects their home. Without it, there will be no more Elves, no more magic - anywhere.

SAM: No more Elves? That’ll change everything. 

SAM returns to his bag and sits.

SAM: You know the stories in the old songs and tales, the ones we used to sing around the big fire at the Ivy Bush. Who knows? People went on journeys and they had big adventures, but nothing ever really seemed to change/changed, did it? Not like this. You know, the trouble is, we Hobbits only really like stories that end up just the way they started, don’t we?

SAM: Sing me a story of heroes of the Shire,

Muddling through,

Brave and true.

Stubborn as bindweed and tough as old briar,

Never too showy or grand.

Year after year

They persevere

Now and for always.

FRODO takes off his hood and settles down beside SAM.

Harfoots who planted and Stoor folk who ploughed,

Bred to endure,

Slow but sure.

Fallohide blood in your veins makes you proud,

Sturdy and steady they stand.

True to their aim

To stay the same

Now and for always.

BOTH: Sit by the firelight’s glow.

Tell us an old tale we know.

Tell us of adventures strange and rare –

Never to change

Ever to share

Stories we tell will cast their spell

Now and for always.

FRODO: You know, I used to think the great adventures in the old songs and tales were things special folk went out looking for. But they weren’t, were they? They were just things they got landed in.

SAM: I wonder what kind of story we’ve landed in.

Sing me the story of Frodo and the Ring.

Fearless and bold.

FRODO: (laughing) Tired and cold.

SAM: Sword at his side, an Elf-blade called Sting,

Crossing a mis’rable land.

Wouldn’t retreat

Just followed his feet

Now and for always.

BOTH: Sit by the firelight’s glow.

Tell us an old tale we know.

Tell of adventures strange and rare –

Never to change

Ever to share

Stories we tell will cast their spell

Now and for always.

SAM: I wish Gollum was in a tale, eh?

FRODO: He might be good in a tale.  

SAM: Better than he is in real life, anyway. A good deal less smelly. (laughs)

FRODO: Oh, for a piece of Mrs Bracegirdle’s plumcake.

SAM: Mrs Bracegirdle.

They share a laugh.

FRODO: They’re all so far away. (after a moment) It’s not me they’ll remember, you know? (getting no response) Sam?

SAM has fallen asleep.

FRODO: Sing me the tale of the bravest of them all.

Comrade and guide

At my side.

Stout-hearted Sam who wouldn’t let me fall,

Holding my life in his hand.

True to the end,

No finer friend.

Now and for always.

Sit by the firelight’s glow.

Tell us an old tale we know.

Tell of adventures strange and rare

Never to change

Ever to share

Stories we tell will cast their spell

Now and for – 

FRODO, too, falls asleep.

This is my own transcript of the scene, not an official script. The recording isn’t mine, either.

Sams sings quietly to himself, a lonely wanderer in a strange land. He is wearing Sting and has the Ring around his neck.

SAM: 

Sing me a story of the heroes of the Shire

Muddling through

Brave and true

Stubborn as bindweed and tough as old brier

As he sings, he thinks of ROSIE. She can be seen from afar and eventually joins his singing.

SAM/ROSIE:

Never too showy or grand

Year after year they persevere

Now and for always.

ROSIE continues to sing under SAM’s speech.

SAM: What I’d give to see Hobbiton again, and the Gaffer and… my Rosie.  I can’t think Gandalf would’ve sent us on this errand if there’d been no hope of our ever coming back. Don’t you worry, Mr Frodo. I’ll take the Ring to Mount Doom, just the same as if you were here beside me.

His hand closes on the Ring around his neck.

I’ve thought about putting it on, don’t you think I haven’t. Samwise the Strong, striding this bitter land with my sword flaming. I’d soon have this place filled with fruit and trees and flowers. But it’s no good, Mr Frodo. That’s not the way for me.

ROSIE:

Sing me a story of the heroes of the Shire

Muddling through

Brave and true

Stubborn as bindweed and tough as old brier

Never too showy or grand

Year after year they persevere

Now and for always.

Sit by the firelight’s glow.

Tell us an old tale we know.

Tell of adventures strange and rare

Never to change

Ever to share

Stories we tell will cast their spell