The Hobbit Script - Dialogue Transcript

Voila! Finally, the The Hobbit script is here for all you quotes spouting fans of the 1977 animated movie based on the J.R.R. Tolkien book.  This script is a transcript that was painstakingly transcribed using the screenplay and/or viewings of The Hobbit. I know, I know, I still need to get the cast names in there and I'll be eternally tweaking it, so if you have any corrections, feel free to drop me a line. You won't hurt my feelings. Honest.

Swing on back to Drew's Script-O-Rama afterwards for more free movie scripts!

The Hobbit Script



In a hole in the ground

there lived a hobbit.



Many ages ago, when this ancient

planet was not quite so ancient...



...long before man

recorded his history...



...there was the time of Middle Earth

when man shared his days...



...with elves, dwarves, wizards,

goblins, dragons and hobbits.



In the lands of Middle Earth,

in an area known as the Shire...



...there was a village named Hobbiton.



There, in a hole in the ground,

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?



- I'm looking to hire a burglar.

- Burglar?



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 am Gandalf.



And Gandalf means me!



- Gandalf? Not the wandering wizard?

- The same!






Thorin and company, at your service.



Dwalin, Balin...



...lKili, Fili...



...Dori, Nori and Ori.



Oin, sir. And Gloin, sir.



Call him Bifur. And him Bofur.



And Bombur at your service.



We are all at your service.



What do these dwarves

want in Hobbiton?



They have come for tea,

and for supper...



...and for you, Burglar 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 Burglar Baggins...



What is this "burglar" business?



If you prefer, you can say

"expert treasure hunter."



Well, yes, I do prefer that.



We are met tonight in the house

of our friend...



...this most excellent hobbit.



May the hair on his toes

never fall out.



Hear, hear!



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 burglar.



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 man or elves



For ancient king and elvish lord



There many a gleaming 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

Blazed with light



And below us,

in the valley, lay Dale...



...a town of mortal men.



The bells were ringing in the Dale

The 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?



None other.



There are    of you. Very unlucky.



Mr. Baggins will make it   .



A splendid lucky number

you've found for us.



No arguments.

Let us have the contract.



"To Burglar Baggins:

Terms for your professional services.



One fourteenth of total profits.

Traveling expenses guaranteed.



Funeral expenses, if necessary.

Sincerely, Thorin and Company."



- "Funeral expenses"?

- Do you find the terms acceptable?



- Of course he does!

- But, but, but l...



And so tomorrow begins

your greatest adventure.



No hat, no stick, no pipe.



Not even a pocket handkerchief.

How can one survive?



- How did Gandalf get ahead of us?

- He comes and goes at 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 spied 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 burglar with us.



- What have trolls to do with burgling?

- We could use some of their meat.



- Oh, I say!

- Burglar, do your burgling!



Blast! Nothing but mutton to eat!



How I long...



...for a bit of man-flesh!



Bacon and eggs. My fireplace.

Hot chestnuts.



- What the blazes?!

- Help! Let me down! 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! Run for it!






Now that's a supper.



Let's go get them all!



Let us roast them.



Boil them, says I!



Each to his own, boys!



There's plenty for all.



I likes mine raw.



Dawn take you all,

and be stone to you!



The sun!



Blast it!



How did the morning come so soon?



We're done for!






One moment. One moment!



Where's that bumbling Burglar?

Lucky number, indeed!



Over here!



Come see what I've found.



Not bad, Burglar,

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 am 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     years ago

by your father.



What? Why did it 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.



I remember the mountain

well enough without this!



Indeed? And how do you intend

to enter Smaug's chambers?



Through the main gate,

as a houseguest?



You'd be ashes 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, Burglar!



- 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.



It's covered by a door made to look

exactly like the side of the mountain.



Here is the key. IKeep it safe.



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 dwells.



Simply enchanting!



- But we must be on.

- Pity.



Elvish singing

is not a thing to miss...


            June, under the stars. But...



My dear Elrond,

your hospitality is magnificent:



The food, the wine,

the stories, the music.



Yes, but we've much to accomplish.



You promised to have a look-see

at these troll swords.



Yes, yes, of course.



Well, 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.



- IKeep them well.

- I will keep this in honor.



- Now show me your map.

- I have it here.



Something 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 gray 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've found the 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're being 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,

O truly tremendous one.



Ask him to explain his weapon!



This sword is named

Orcrist, the Goblin Cleaver!






Elf friends!






I know that sword!



It is called

Glamdring, the Foe Hammer!



It's Gandalf! Good old Gandalf!



Follow me! Quickly!



Through here! Follow me!






He's gone!



Where are you?



My precious.



It is my precious.



Hello, my precious.



Bless us and splash us.



Food for my precious.



Eggs and bacon. Spoons all polished.



Warm muffins and sweet butter.



What is that noise, my precious?



My precious does not know.



Bless my soul!



Hello! What's this?



Nice souvenir to show the neighbors

back home. If I ever get home.



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?



But perhaps we sits here...



...and chats with it

a bitsy, my precious?



Lt... 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 eats 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...






...the answer?



Half a moment.



Is it nice, my precious?

Is it juicy?



Gooey? Yucky?



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, it is!



Oh, bother!



Us now! Now us, my precious.



I'm aquiver with anticipation!






This thing, alls 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 does it answer?

What does it answer?



Just a moment now!



My precious...



...will it taste delicious?



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's fun.

Now, couldn't we get out of here?



It's got to ask us

another riddle, my precious!



Blast, 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 nasty...



...little pocketeses!



I'm sorry. That's my riddle.



And if you can't guess it,

you lose and show me out!



My precious loses!



But first...


            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' birthday

present from its hiding place.



Now what?



He'll never guess

my pocket contained this.



Bless my soul!



Where is it?



My golden ring! My magic ring!



Lost, it is.









Curse us and crush us! My ring, lost!



My precious remembers.



He wears it before.



And he drops it on the shore!



Curse it! Curse the Baggins!



He's found it! My ring!



My birthday present!



My, he does carry on.



Bless my soul!



The ring?



Most definitely.



My precious will find it!

Will find it! The Baggins.



My precious will crush it...



...and smash it!



Better douse this.



Where is it?



Where is it?



It is tricksy.



It says it doesn't know the way out...



...but it knows the way in,

my precious.



It must...



...know a way out!



It's off for 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.



It's make an escape!















We hates it!



Hates it forever!



Gollum thought I knew the way out

and was 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, so to speak.



Your story has the ring of truth.

Yes, it rings true.



You need say no more.

We'd best get a 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're on the other side,

to the edge of the land beyond.



- The Wargs!

- With the goblins!



- Help!

- We can't go any higher!



- My arms.

- My poor legs! My legs!



But what will they do with us?

Drop us to our deaths?



Who knows?



But they've brought us

a far distance with no dropping!



Behold, the River of Wilderland below!



By thunder!



They're taking us to the edge

of Mirkwood Forest...


            dash us against those rocks,

I know it!



O Great Lord of the 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...



...till your aeries receive you

at the journey's end.



So this is the Forest of Mirkwood.



Terrible place, if I remember.

And dangerous.



Now, now.

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.



You speak as if you

weren'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.



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 you'll soon find out

there's more about you than you guess.



You, sir, will be my surrogate.

My replacement, so to say.



Here is paper and a marker.

IKeep a strict log of your journey...


            I may study it when we meet

again and point out your missteps.



I can only do my best.



Then that will have to suffice.



To Gandalf:

As per your instructions...



...I am keeping this log of

our journey through Mirkwood Forest.



I shall make good use of it someday

as a basis for 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.



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 rest of the morning

I spent seeking my companions.



And I found them, finally,

in a place as black and terrible...


            a patch of midnight

that had never been cleared away.



They'll make fine eating...



...when they've hung a bit!



Go away!



Go away!






I certainly could not let

my companions, my comrades...



...become a meal for those hideous

spiders. Action was called for.



You are all free. I know the

spiders' poisons 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!



We will eat you and leave your skin

hanging in the tree.



Grab it!



I can hold them off!

Run to the wood-elves' clearing!



But, how can you...?



I will do the stinging! Run.



Swiftly now.



We've trapped it now.

Close the circle.



It can't escape us!



Lazy lob! Attercop!



Blast! What is it?

What is it called?



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 by their

encounter with the spiders...



...gave up without a struggle.



We traveled all day and night.



Finally, we came to the palace

of the Elf King...



...which was at 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.



Why were you in the woods

in the first place?



- That is our business.

- Very well.



Take them away until they

feel inclined to tell the truth...



...even if they wait     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.



The river flowed under the caves.



Deliveries of fine wines

were brought up the river...


            human men

who lived on Long Lake.



Now, wood-elves enjoy their wine,

and the barrels were soon drained.



Oh, stop complaining!



I never promised to burgle you

first-class accommodations.



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'd reached

the human colony called Laketown.



A precise,

if not too imaginative name...



...for the village was actually

built on the surface of Long Lake.



The descendants of the men of Dale

still dared to dwell...



...and do business in the shadow

of old Smaug's mountain.



I am Thorin...



...grandson of

IKing Under the Mountain!



I have returned!



Hail, Thorin Oakenshield.



I am Bard the guardsman.

We are honored 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...



...when the dragon Smaug is killed

and your kingdom is regained.



We were fed, fattened,

given supplies...



...and two weeks later found us

nearing the end of our journey.



And chances were it would be

a very horrible end, indeed.



That smell!

I've not smelled 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 elusive 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 gray 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!



By 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.



You must earn your reward.

We do have a contract.



You think it's my job to go in first?



I've already gotten 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 along!



Help yourself. There's plenty,

and to spare.



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 reality...



...O 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-stinger...



Lovely titles.



I am he that drowns his friends and

draws them alive again from the water.



I am the guest of eagles,

the ring-winner and luck-wearer...



...the clue-finder

and the barrel-rider.



Barrel-rider, eh?



Then I have guessed your riddle!



You are one of those miserable...



...tub-thumping Lake-men!



You and your town shall pay dearly

for this intrusion!



So the Lake-men would steal

my treasure?



Wait! You don't know everything.

Not gold alone brought me hither.



Be done with your riddles!



What else brought you, Lake-man?









Surely you realize that

your success...



...has made you some bitter enemies.



Revenge? You? Ha!



I am Smaug!



I kill what I wish!



I am strong...









My armor is like tenfold shields...


            teeth are like swords...


            claws, spears...



...the shock of my tail...



...a thunderbolt!



My wings...



...a hurricane!



And my breath...












Where are your riddles now?



Very, very impressive.






...I have always understood

that dragons...



...were soft underneath. Vulnerable.



Especially in the region of the chest.



You have heard wrong!



I am armored both above and below.



Well, I don't know about that.



You "don't know about that."



I shall show you!






What do you say to this?



Rare and wonderful, eh?















Staggering! Mag...



Old fool!



There's a patch in the hollow

of your left breast...


            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.









Thief! Fire! Murderer!



- 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't tell you how grateful I am.



Never mind that.

What did you burgle?






What's that?






Into the secret passage!

Our only chance!






Thieving Lake-man!



Your people shall see my vengeance!



The Lake-people are doomed unless...



Yes! You, who are a mere thrush,

and yet so much more.



You have seen Smaug.

You know his vulnerable spot!



Go now, to Laketown. There is 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...






Stand your ground. Rearm!



Away, you fool bird! Away!



You speak?



Bilbo Baggins?



He found what?



Yes! I'll look.



Jove! You speak the truth,

old thrush!



Black arrow, you've never failed me.

I've always recovered you.



I had you from my father

and he from of old.



If you came from the true king's

forges under the mountain...



...go now and speed well!



Now I am king!






There is only one IKing Under

the Mountain, and I am he...






Hail Thorin!




Now, now...



...there's much to be done.

We must catalog our wealth.



Dear me! And pack it for shipment.



Join the fun, Burglar!

Part of this is yours!



Might be mine!

What if Smaug returns?



Oh, he's been 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 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 floor populated

by giant fireflies?



Not fireflies, fires! Campfires!



Nonsense! Only an army would

need that many fires.



No, my friend. Two armies!



Bard of Laketown? What did you say?



Two armies!



Smaug is dead. I have slain him.

The thrush delivered your message.



Really? Splendid news, old fellow.

I hoped he would!



My people have made me king.



IKing? Really? Congratulations!



Couldn't happen to a nicer chap.

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 still 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.






Why not? There's enough

for all in this mountain.



It's a matter of principle, of honor!



Then tomorrow we take it!



We will meet at sunrise

on the field of battle.



You are hopelessly outnumbered.



This is ridiculous!



Quiet! What does a burglar 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!



Confusticate and bebother victory!



My only hope is to be taken prisoner

as quickly as possible.



Those are the words of a coward.



The coward who flushed out Smaug?



The coward who saved you

time and time again?



The coward who always went forward

while you cringed behind?



You don't see us cringing now, do you?



This is madness!

Fourteen against      ...



...and yet you march off

to certain destruction...


            merrily as if you were

on your way to a tea party.



Your kind will never understand war,




This is war. War!



Our lookout has spied something!



O great IKing Under the Mountain!



- Balin, it's only Thorin!

- Quiet!



- Yes, general?

- "General"?



Another army approaches

from the northeast!



An army of our kind.

An army of dwarves!



- My cousin Dain from the Iron Hills?

- None other!



Ha! Now we are not outnumbered!

Now we have an army!



- A battle of three armies?

- To war!









To battle!



- Scurvy dwarves!

- Thieving dwarves!



IKill them!



- Chop them!

- Take their heads!



IKill the men! IKill the elves!



Save the gold for ourselves!



I'd rather be back in Hobbiton.



- Who's that old man?

- Get out of the way!



Move, you old fool!



Old fool?









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!






They ride upon wolves!



O great Elf IKing,

my truest friend and ally.



We must join forces against

this kind of scourge.



But of course, O noble

IKing Under the Mountain.



Your people are like brothers

unto mine.



My men and all their weapons

are as one with yours.



Together we will vanquish

the foul foe!






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!



We'll spill much of their blood

before the day's finished!



If these be our last moments,

let us live them with honor!



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    how many are left?






And Thorin?



Soon there will be only six.



I have brought him.



Farewell, good thief.



I wish to part in friendship...



...and take back my words at the gate.



There are many words I would

take back also.



And does it take this...


            make us see each other?



- Thorin!

- Hush.



You are no coward, 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, IKing Under the Mountain.



Child of the kindly west.



I have come to know...



...if more of us valued your ways...


            and cheer above

hoarded gold...


            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 old

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.






- What?

- I had a hand in all that!



You disbelieve the prophecies because

you helped bring them about?



You don't really suppose...



...that all your adventures and

escapes were managed by mere luck...



...just for your sole benefit?



You're a very fine person,

Mr. Baggins. I'm very fond of you...



...but you are only quite a little

fellow in a wide world after all.



Thank goodness!



Yes, you will return to your home...


            your souvenir ring

on your mantel...



...publish your story, which you

believe has come to its end...



What do you mean,

believe has come to an end?



It has, hasn't it?



Oh, Bilbo Baggins, if you

really understood that ring...


            someday members of your family

not yet born will...



...then you'd realize that this story

has not ended...



...but is only beginning.

Special help by SergeiK