All language subtitles for The.Lord.Of.The.Rings.1978.1080p.BluRay.x264-[YTS.AG]-en

Long ago...

in the early years
of the Second Age...

the great Elven-smiths
forged Rings of Power.

Nine for mortal Men.

Seven for the Dwarf-lords.

Three for the tall Elf-kings.

But then, the Dark Lord
learned the craft of ring making...

and made the Master Ring.

The One Ring to rule them all.

With the One Ring, Middle-earth is his,
and he cannot be overcome.

As the last alliance of Men and Elves
fell beneath his power...

he did not notice the heroic shadow
who slipped in.

It was Prince Isildur...

of the mighty kings
from across the sea...

who took the Ring.

But because he did not destroy it,
the spirit of the Dark Lord lived on...

and began to take shape,
and grow again.

But the Ring had a will of its own,
and a way of slipping from one hand...

to be found by another, so that it
might at last get back to its master.

And there the Ring lay,
at the bottom of the great river Anduin...

for thousands of years.

During those years...

the Dark Lord captured the nine rings
that were made for Men...

and turned their owners
into the Ringwraiths:

Terrible shadows
under his great shadow...

who roamed the world,
searching for the One Ring.

In time, the Ring was found.

Two friends were fishing
in the Great River one day.

- Give us that, Déagol, my love.
- Why, Sméagol?

Because it's my birthday,
my love, and I wants it.

I have already given you
more than I could afford.

- I found this, and I'm going to keep it!
- Oh?

Are you indeed, my love?

He used the Ring
for thieving, and to find out secrets.

His own people began to despise
the wretched creature...

and to call him Gollum.

Tortured and driven by the Ring,
he hid in dark caves...

under deep mountains.

But the Ring
slipped off Gollum's finger too.

And so it was that Bilbo found it,
during his travels with the Dwarves.

Thief, Baggins. Thief!

It stole our precious, our precious...

Our birthday present.

Thief, Baggins. We hates it forever.
We hates it forever.

It was Bilbo Baggins, the Hobbit...

who took the Ring back to the Shire,
his home.

Years later...

Gandalf the Wizard visited Bilbo
on his going-away birthday party.

I don't know half of you
half as well as I should like...

and I like less than half of you
half as well as you deserve.

Well, heh, heh, Frodo, I can see
your Uncle Bilbo hasn't changed much.

And though 111 years
is far too short a time...

to live among such admirable Bagginses
and Boffinses, Grubbs...

Chubbs, Bracegirdles, Goodbodies...

- Bolgers, Hornblowers and Proudfoots...
- Proudfeet.

I regret to announce
that this is the end.

I'm going away. I'm leaving.

Now.

Goodbye.

Where did he go?

Gandalf.

Have you left the Ring for Frodo,
as we agreed?

It's mine, I tell you. It's my own.

My precious.

It's mine now, and I shall keep it.
I won't give my precious away, I tell you.

Do not say that again.

Give it to Frodo, and I will look after him.

All right.

I will.

Seventeen years
passed sleepily in the Shire.

All right, all right, just a minute.

Gandalf.

Greetings, Frodo.

Gandalf, it's really you.
Oh, it's been so long.

Seventeen years, since Bilbo left.
You look the same as ever, Frodo.

- You look older, Gandalf.
- Oh, I've been on a long journey.

It's the Ring, isn't it?
Bilbo's funny magic ring.

You always used to look like that
when you talked about it.

Bilbo's funny ring...

that makes you invisible?

- Give it to me, Frodo.
- Give you the Ring?

For a moment only.

Can you see any markings on it?

There are none.
It's quite a plain ring, really.

Well, then, look.

Wait.

Do you desire it so much already?

No, but why ruin it?

Because it is altogether evil.

It will corrupt and destroy
anyone who wears it...

until he passes
into the world of shadows...

under the power of Sauron,
the Dark Lord of Mordor.

Not Bilbo?

You are the one who has the Ring now.

It's...

- It's not even warm.
- No.

Not even a dragon's fire
could harm that Ring.

One Ring to rule them all

One Ring to find them

One Ring to bring them all
And in the darkness bind them

I wish it need not have happened
in my time.

So do I.

The enemy still lacks one thing
to give him strength of knowledge...

to break all resistance,
and cover all the lands in darkness.

He lacks the One Ring.

But maybe he doesn't
know that it was found.

He knows, Frodo.

Gollum left his cave
to follow the Ring himself...

and the Dark Lord caught him
in Mordor.

The Dark Lord knows what ring it was
Gollum found, and how he lost it again.

And he has heard of Hobbits at last,
and of the Shire.

And he even has a name to think about.

The name of Baggins.

Because of Gollum.

Oh, Gandalf, what am I to do?

What a pity that Bilbo didn't kill
that vile creature when he had the chance.

Yes, it was pity.

Pity and mercy.

And now, Frodo...

the decision lies with you.

What will you do with the One Ring?

I'll give it to you, Gandalf.

You're wise and powerful.
What, will you not...

No. Do not tempt me.

I would wish to turn it to good,
and it cannot be used so.

Meaning to be kind, I would become
as terrible as the Dark Lord himself.

Do not tempt me.

I shall have such need of strength
so soon.

Then I suppose I must keep the Ring
and guard it.

And I ought to
go away somewhere, alone.

But they won't... They won't
bother the Shire if the Ring isn't here.

My dear Frodo...

I am afraid you are right.

You'll have to go and leave the name
of Baggins behind you.

That name is no longer safe.

Your new traveling name shall be...

Mr. Underhill.

What have you heard,
and why did you listen?

Mr. Frodo, sir, don't let him hurt me, sir!

Don't let him turn me
into anything unnatural.

- Well?
- Answer him, Sam.

Well, sir, I heard a deal
that I didn't rightly understand...

about an enemy and rings,
and about Elves, sir.

Why, I would dearly love to see Elves,
Mr. Frodo.

And so you shall, Sam.

So you shall. Indeed, you should go
to the Elves first, to Rivendell.

Tell everyone you are moving away...

to live in Buckleberry, with those cousins
of yours, Pippin and Merry.

However you manage it, do it soon,
by your birthday at the latest.

I should be back by then.

I must go south,
to consult with the wizard Aruman...

the head of my order.
Be careful, Frodo.

Me go, sir? Me go and see the Elves?

Oh, my.

I have come for your aid,
Saruman the White, in troubled times.

The Nine are abroad.
Darkness approaches, the Black Riders.

Is that all the news
you have for me, then?

Is that not enough?
Sauron is moving at last.

We can deal with Sauron ourselves,
Gandalf. You and I.

One way or another.

What talk is this?
What are you saying, Saruman?

It is time for us to choose.

A new age is upon us.
A new power is rising.

Nothing that Men or Elves or Wizards
can do will avail against it.

Its enemies are utterly doomed,
but its friends, ah...

You are saying that we should join
with Mordor? With him?

Does that displease you?
Where is the Ring, Gandalf?

Why do the Black Riders
search for it in the Shire?

Have you hidden it there?

Would you rather see
the Dark Lord have it...

or Saruman of many colors?

Neither of you will have it.

There is a third choice.

It is to remain here...

until you tell me
where the Ring may be found.

Saruman, if you do this...

if you delay me here,
Sauron will surely get it then.

Then he will know his good servants...

and his enemies.

Saruman!

Saruman!

Saruman!

I don't feel right going off
without Gandalf, Mr. Frodo.

I wish we could've waited, that I do.

So do I, Sam, but he said to leave
as soon as we could.

And Merry and Pippin insisted on coming
with us as far as Bree, for the fun of it.

There's someone coming up ahead,
Mr. Frodo. I can hear a horse.

Good. I'm tired of looking
at my cousins all day.

I think we should get off the road.
I don't want to be seen leaving the Shire.

- But it might be Gandalf.
- Then we'll surprise him. Hurry.

- We're going with you, Frodo.
- With me?

But how do you...? Sam.

- But you gave your word.
- They already knew so much, Mr. Frodo.

Sam didn't tell us about the Ring, Frodo.

I saw Bilbo use it once,
before he went away...

to hide from the Sackville-Bagginses.

And after that,
Pippin and I kept on the lookout...

and we followed you.
We asked questions everywhere.

And we even wormed
a few things out of Gandalf.

And you spied on me.
And Sam helped you.

- And we spied on you.
- But we meant no wrong to you, Mr. Frodo.

Don't you remember
what Mr. Gandalf said?

"Take someone that you can trust,"
he said.

- It doesn't seem that I can trust anyone.
- It all depends on what you want.

You can trust us to stick to you
through thick and thin, to the bitter end.

But you cannot trust us
to let you face trouble alone...

and go off without a word.
We're your friends, Frodo.

Heh. Bless you, you deceitful scoundrels.

Will we be stopping
at Bree tonight, Mr. Frodo?

I think so, Sam.

Well, we all need a fireside and a bath,
and a proper night's sleep in a real bed.

Oh, I do wish Gandalf were with us.

Maybe he'll be at the inn
when we get there.

Maybe.

I think I'll go out for a sniff of air.

Mind yourselves. Don't forget,
you're supposed to be escaping in secret.

- Oh, mind yourself. Don't get lost.
- Be careful, Merry.

Quiet. Quiet, all.

We have some visitors with us tonight,
all the way from the Shire.

They came all the way from the Shire.

- What was your name again, sir?
- Mr. Underhill.

Ha, Mr. Underhill and his party.

A song!

A song from the Shire!

The Shire!

Yes, Mr. Underhill, sing us a Shire song.

Well, a short one, then.

Who's there?

Who's there?

Look at him.

How little!

So small.

He's a cute one.

Look at him go.

- Where did he go?
- Where is he?

What's he done?

What's going on here?

Take your magic tricks back to the Shire.

What's this place coming to,
I'd like to know?

Take them back on out of here!

Well, Mr. Underhill...

frightening my customers and breaking
up my crocks with your acrobatics.

Very sorry. It was quite unintentional,
a most unfortunate accident.

Well, you have put your foot in it
this time.

- Who are you?
- I am called Strider.

- Everyone knows me here.
- Well, we don't.

You've been very careless so far,
Mr. Frodo Baggins.

My name is Mr. Underhill.

After your performance tonight,
it won't matter what you call yourself.

The Black Riders will know
who you are by morning.

They already know what you bear.

Who are you really?

I am Gandalf's friend.
He asked me to watch out for you.

Gandalf? Have you seen him?
Where is he?

I do not know.

We were supposed to meet him here,
but I've had no word, no message.

It is the first time
that I've ever feared for him.

Then we will have to go on
by ourselves tomorrow.

To Rivendell?

You'd never get there. The Black Riders
are watching the road night and day.

They'll come on you in the wild,
in some dark place, where there's no help.

I know the wild country.

I can take you to Rivendell
by paths that are seldom trodden.

- Will you have me?
- With your leave, Mr. Frodo, I'd say no.

This Strider, he says be more careful.
I say, let's start with him.

How do we know he's from Gandalf?

More likely, he's a play-acting spy,
working for...

- For them.
- I don't know, Sam.

I think one of the enemy's servants...

would, well, seem fairer and feel fouler,
if you understand.

While I look foul and feel fair, is that it?

- Well, no, I meant...
- Frodo. Frodo!

Frodo, I've seen them!
I've seen them, Frodo.

I've seen them. Black Riders.

- My man found him lying in the street.
- There were two of them.

They were hissing to each other.
I seemed to be drawn towards them.

Well, you do need looking after,
all of you.

There's been strange folk about for days.

That ranger...

Strider, coming and going and...

Strider.

- They've come from Mordor.
- Save us!

They won't trouble you once I'm gone.
Strider came to offer me his help.

Well, you know
your own business, maybe...

but in your place, I wouldn't take up
with a ranger out of the wild.

They have no choice.

There is no one else for them
except a fat innkeeper...

who only remembers his name
because people shout it at him all day.

I'll do what I can to help, Mr. Baggins.
Mr. Underhill.

- I'm no hero, but I'll do what I can.
- Keep watch tonight, you and your folk.

There is a hill called Weathertop...

about halfway between here
and Rivendell.

We will make for it tomorrow.
So will Gandalf, if he can.

I still don't know if we can trust him,
Mr. Frodo.

I said you have no choice, Sam.

Because, if I wanted the Ring
for myself...

I could have it now.

My name is Aragorn, son of Arathorn.

If by life or death I can save you, I will.

How long will we be
in these marshes, Aragorn?

At least two days.

I'm being eaten alive.

What do these things live on
when they can't get Hobbit?

Easy there, Bill. Easy, slow.

That is Weathertop.

We shall be there by nightfall, if we set
a good pace and don't stop for lunch.

- This goes on longer, I'll become a wraith.
- Don't speak of such things.

Aragorn. Aragorn.

And Beren was a mortal man...

but Lúthien Tinúviel
was the daughter of a king of Elves.

She was the fairest maiden that has ever
been among all the children of this world.

Yet she chose to be mortal, for him.

And when he died, she followed him.

And so he was her doom...

but he was her love, as well.

- I thought I saw something.
- Hmm?

Maybe just shadows
in the moonlight, I don't know.

Stand close to the fire. Make a circle.

- What's that?
- Shh!

No!

The Ring, Frodo! Take off the Ring.

Cold. It's so cold.

- Like a poisoned icicle.
- It is the cold of their world, Frodo.

When you put on the Ring,
you entered the world of the Black Riders.

Gandalf said not to.

Why is it so misty here?
I can't see very well.

What's the matter with him?
It was only a little wound.

It was an evil knife that struck him, Sam.

I think that a piece broke off in the wound
and is working inward.

If it reaches his heart...

Couldn't you do anything?

We must get to Rivendell very soon.

He can't go no further.

He must. Do you want them to take him?

Wait, listen.

Ah! Legolas.

Yes, Sam, that's an elf.

So there has been
no word of Gandalf in Rivendell?

- No message at all?
- None.

My lord Elrond has sent every rider
he could spare to seek for you...

knowing that you bore a great burden
without guidance.

I have been on the road for nine days.

Well, Mr. Frodo has been on the road
a lot longer than that.

And he's sick and he needs a rest.

Just for a while.

Sam...

no resting can help
your Mr. Frodo now.

Only the hands of Elrond in Rivendell
can do that.

There are five Black Riders
close behind us...

and we may well find
the other four waiting at the ford.

If we lose even a little time,
we lose, Frodo, the Ring...

and Middle-earth.

Do you understand me, Sam?

There is the ford of Rivendell.

Fly, fly. The enemy is upon us.

Come back. To Mordor we will take you.

Gandalf!

Back, come back.
To Mordor we'll take you.

Come back, come back.

To Mordor we'll take you.

Go back!

Run, you fool, run!

The Ring, the Ring.

Go back to the land of Mordor,
and follow me no more.

Come back. Come back.

To Mordor we will take you.

Come back. Come back.

Go back!

The Ring.

The Ring.

By all the Shire,
you shall have neither the Ring, nor me.

No. No, never. Verily, I come.

I give it unto you.

- No, never. Gandalf!
- Yes.

I am here,
and you are lucky to be here, too...

after all the absurd things you've done
since you've left home.

Where's Sam?
And are the others all right?

They've hardly left your side
for three days.

Three days?

What happened at the ford?
It all seems so dim, somehow.

You were beginning to fade,
my remarkable friend.

The knifepoint had almost
worked its way to your heart.

Oh, I didn't know. Would I have...

You would have become like them...

one of the Ringwraiths...

the servants of the Dark Lord...

if you had not resisted to the last.

The river, it rose up against them.

It is Elrond's river.

This is his house,
and it was Elrond himself who healed you.

If I may say so,
I added a few touches of my own.

The white horses and so on.
If you noticed.

- Then that is the end of the Black Riders?
- Not so long as the Ring itself exists.

They will fly back to their master in Mordor,
empty and crippled...

until they find new shapes to wear
and new beasts to ride.

We have beaten them,
just for a while, Frodo.

- That's sort of a relief.
- I wish that were the truth, Frodo.

I'm afraid we have a new
and closer problem at hand.

You have not asked me why
I was late getting back to the Shire.

I forgot.

When I was certain that yours was indeed
the Master Ring...

I rode at once to Isengard.

And I thought...

that if anyone could know
what was best to do with the One Ring...

it would surely be Saruman the White.

The great eagle, Gwaihir...

came in answer to my call,
and bore me away.

Saruman's never paid
enough attention to animals.

- But if he should seize the Ring...
- He will make himself...

the master of all Middle-earth.

The War of the Ring has begun, Frodo.

You will hear the rest in Council
when you are well enough. Rest now.

The leaves were long
The grass was green

With the hemlock umbels, tall and fair

And in the glade a light was seen
Of stars in shadow, shimmering

Tinúviel was dancing there

Bilbo!

Hello, Frodo, my lad.

Where have you been?
Why haven't I seen you before?

Heh. Well, I've seen a good deal of you,
sitting by your side with Sam each day.

Bilbo, have you been here all the time?
All these years?

Well, there didn't seem much reason
to be anywhere else, after all.

The food's very good.
And I listen, and I think.

- A remarkable place altogether.
- Ha, yes.

And now, of course, there's all this bustle
about that ring of mine.

Fancy the little thing causing
such a disturbance. Have you got it here?

Yes, I have.

I should very much like
just to peep at it again, just for a moment.

Put it away.

I understand now.

I'm sorry.

Sorry about...

everything.

Don't...

adventures...

ever have an end?

The Council of Elrond is beginning.

Come with me. Both of you.

All that morning, the Council of
Elrond debated the history of the One Ring...

and its master, Sauron.

Gandalf also told all present
of Saruman, the traitor...

and his desire
for the power of the Ring.

Elves and Dwarves, in their turn,
told what they knew of Sauron's...

preparations for conquest,
and so did Boromir of Gondor.

In Gondor, we are already under attack
by the forces of Mordor.

I am Boromir. In a dream...

I heard a voice crying to me, saying:
"Seek for the sword that was broken."

Here is the sword of Elendil of Gondor...

who fought the Dark Lord long ago
and was slain.

So Frodo learned at last...

the true heritage of Aragorn,
the son of Arathorn...

descendent of Isildur,
who cut the One Ring from Sauron's hand.

Then it belongs to you,
and not to me at all?

Bring out the Ring, Frodo.

The time has come.

Isildur's Bane.

The Halfling.

What shall we do with it then,
this mightiest of all weapons?

We cannot keep it, we cannot destroy it.

Sauron, who forged it,
looks for his Ring...

and Saruman, who envies it,
searches for its power too.

I see no other road for us
but the most fearful.

The road into Mordor.

We must send the Ring to the fire
where it was made.

To Mount Doom.

What foolishness is this? Why do
you speak of hiding and destroying?

- The Ring could save all Middle-earth.
- Have you heard nothing?

It is Sauron's Ring. To wield it...

you would have to become Sauron.
I will not touch it.

Nor I.

Our one hope lies in foolishness, Boromir.

The Dark Lord cannot conceive
of anyone wishing to destroy his Ring.

He will wait
until one of us tries to use it...

follow every move we make.

And it is just possible
that he may not notice...

the small, quiet feet
walking into peril...

into Mordor.

Very well. Very well. It's plain enough
what you're pointing at.

Bilbo, the silly Hobbit, started this affair,
and Bilbo had better finish it, or himself.

When ought I to start?

It has passed beyond you, Bilbo.

This last journey
must be for others to make.

- Ah, and who are they to be?
- That is what they're trying to decide here.

I...

I will take the Ring...

though I do not know the way.

I think that this task
is appointed for you, Frodo.

This is the hour of the Shire-folk, at last.

But you won't
send him off alone, surely?

You, at least, shall go with him,
Master Samwise.

It is hardly possible to separate you...

even when he is summoned
to a secret Council, and you are not.

A nice pickle we've landed ourselves in,
Mr. Frodo.

I thought perhaps
you might care to have these.

Bilbo, I don't think I should look right.

You can wear the shirt
under your clothes.

It's as light as anything.

But I fancy it might turn
even the knives of the Black Riders.

I named the sword Sting, long ago.

It's silly, but there you are.

It shines when there are enemies about.

Orcs and things.

There.

Now, you look just a plain Hobbit
on the surface, but...

Well...

take care.

Bring back any old songs
and tales you hear.

Our only hope is in speed and secrecy.

The company of the Ring shall be nine.

Nine walkers against
the nine Riders of Mordor.

With Sam and Frodo, Gandalf will go.

For the other free peoples...

Legolas shall be for the Elves,
and Gimli, son of Glóin, for the Dwarves.

For Men shall go
the valiant Boromir of Gondor...

and Aragorn, son of Arathorn.

And for the last two places,
we will trust to friendship...

rather than to great wisdom.

Peregrin Took and Meriadoc Brandybuck
may also go.

When did you ever know such a storm
so far south?

The Dark Lord's arm has grown long
if he can hurl snow at us...

all the way from Mordor.

His arm has grown long.

There is only one course for us.

No, Gandalf, not that dark way, I beg you.

And what would you suggest?

Returning to Rivendell to wait there
for the end? We have no choice, Aragorn.

We might go by way
of the Gap of Rohan.

That would take the Ring too close to
Isengard and Aruman. We dare not risk it.

Yet you would risk the Mines of Moria.

Where both you and I have walked before
and come out again alive.

The memory is very evil.

I do not wish to enter Moria
a second time.

And I don't wish to enter it even once.

Nor me.

The question is not who wishes to go,
but who will?

There is no other way
to pass the mountains.

I will go with you.

My cousin Balin led a company
of Dwarves there, many years ago.

There has been no word of them
in all that time.

Elves do not walk in the dark earth.

I will go, but I fear for you, Gandalf.

I will not go, not unless the vote
of the whole company is against me.

What does the Ring-bearer say?

I do not wish to go.

But I will go, if Gandalf advises it.

Steady. Easy, Bill. Old Gandalf
will have that gate open in a minute.

What if he can't?

I have never seen anything
Mr. Gandalf couldn't do.

Sam!

Fireworks are all very nice,
but this is elf magic.

What a people you Dwarves are
for hiding things.

On the gates of your most wondrous,
ancient kingdom you write:

"Speak, friend, and enter," and no spell
in any language can open the door.

Why do you keep looking
at the lake, Frodo?

I'm afraid of it.

And there sits our quest.
If we had to bring a wizard at all...

- it should have been Aruman.
- Be still, Boromir.

Why? There are other ways to turn
if our Wizard's balked.

I said, from the beginning...

Gandalf, you old fool.

So all you had to do
was say, "friend," and enter.

Those were happier times.

Let us go.

Gandalf!

I'm coming, Mr. Frodo, I'm coming!

Into the gateway. All of you!

Bill!

Poor old Bill. Poor old Bill.

Gandalf...

- what was the thing in the water?
- I do not know.

There are older and fouler things than Orcs
in the deep places of the world.

Whatever it was, it grabbed
Frodo first, out of all of us.

Be quiet, Pippin!

We have gone far enough for today.

Let us stop here for the night.

Seems to have been a guardroom.

Yes, there's even a well.

We had better rest here.

It's hard to believe that even Dwarves...

could have lived
in this half-drowned dungeon.

- It was a great realm once.
- Be still. Both of you.

Which way do we take tomorrow, Gandalf?

I have not decided.

The path to the left smells foul,
and I am too weary to choose.

The way ahead feels wrong, somehow.

At least the middle way goes
up. It's time we began to climb again.

Perhaps. I cannot remember.

What's that?

- Pippin!
- Oh, um...

Just a stone. I, uh, dropped a stone.

Fool of a Took.
Throw yourself in next time. Be quiet.

Fool of a Pippin!

Yes, this way.

We should find our way down
to the Great Gates by tonight.

I shall be glad.

I doubt now that Dwarves
ever came back here.

Why should they have come back?
What was left for them to mine?

Mithril silver.
The most precious metal in the world.

"Balin, son of Fundin...

Lord of Moria."

They did come back.

It seems to be a record of the colony.

Orc swords.
There was a great battle here.

Yes.

"Balin is now Lord of Moria."

Here it says, "We found Mithril."

Now it says:

"Yesterday, Balin, Lord of Moria, fell.

An Orc shot him from behind a stone.

We slew the Orc, but many more..."

Then it says,
"We have barred the gates."

And something about,
"The Watcher in the Water."

- What do you hear?
- Nothing.

- But I feel.
- It is grim reading.

"They have taken the bridge.
They are coming.

We cannot get out.
Drums, drums in the deep."

- There is nothing more.
- Gandalf? I don't wanna stay here.

We are going now, Pippin.
There is nothing more.

- They're coming.
- Slam the doors and wedge them.

Keep the east door ajar.
We must not get shut in.

Orcs and something else.
A great cave-troll, I think.

Out this way.

The Shire!

For the Shire!

Now is the last chance. Run for it!

I'm all right. I can walk.

I thought you were dead.

All of you, down the stairs!

Lead the way, Gimli.
Pippin and Merry next.

Come no closer.
Come no closer, I warn you!

Balrog.

Fly, all of you.
Fly, up the stair and straight on.

Fly. You cannot help me.

You cannot pass.

I am a servant of the Secret Fire.

You cannot pass.
Go back to the shadow.

You cannot pass!

Fly, you fools!

Come. Follow me.

Obey him.

There may be a bit of a scar, Sam.

I don't care.

Now it is your turn, Frodo.

I'm all right. What does it matter now?

It matters. We still have a long road,
and much to do.

Why? We've no hope without Gandalf.
You know that, Aragorn.

Then we must do without hope.
There is always vengeance.

Mithril shirt!

That's what saved you.

I have never seen one so beautiful.

- There.
- What is it?

The footsteps,
I heard them in Moria, following.

The Orcs will not come until dark.

It never sounds like an Orc.

They're bare feet and they flap.

Whatever creature it is,
it won't follow us where we're going.

Nothing evil passes through Lothlórien.

- That is not what we say in Gondor.
- Then you know nothing in Gondor.

Out of Moria into the Golden Wood.
Is there no way less perilous?

I would almost rather face
the Balrog again, than... Than the Lady.

Lothlórien is a place of healing.
There is no evil in it, unless a man...

- brings evil there with him.
- Welcome to Lothlórien.

I am Galadriel,
and this is my lord, Celeborn.

The forests have told us of your loss.

We sorrow for you,
and for all of Middle-earth.

Rest here now for a little,
until you are healed.

Your quest is known to us.

We will do what we can to aid you.

Frodo Baggins of the Shire?

It's a song about Gandalf, isn't it?

Yes, Mithrandir
was the Elves' name for him.

It means, "gray pilgrim."

We knew so little of him in the Shire,
Aragorn. He was just Gandalf, to us.

- We never knew he had so many names.
- I think he was fondest of Gandalf.

This is the mirror of Galadriel.

It shows things that were,
and things that are...

and things that yet may be.

Do you wish to look?

I'd not mind a glimpse
of what's going on at home.

It seems a terrible long time
I've been away.

Come then, you shall look...

and see what you may.

I gotta go home.
They've dug up Bagshot Row...

and thrown my poor old Gaffer
out in the street.

I've gotta go home.

The mirror shows many things, Sam,
and not all have yet come to pass.

Some never come to be,
unless those that behold the visions...

turn aside from their path
to prevent them.

Do you wish to leave Frodo now,
and go home?

No.

Gandalf?

No.

No, it must be Aruman.

Do not touch the water.

He is looking for you.

But he cannot find you, not here, not yet.
The door is closed.

"Three Rings for the Elven-kings
under the sky."

Yes.

We hid those three from him,
and he has never touched them.

If your quest fails, then nothing can stand
against him and we are defenseless.

Yet, if you succeed,
if the One Ring is destroyed...

all we built with the three will fade.

Time will come here,
and Lothlórien will fade.

You are the footstep
of doom to us, Frodo.

Lady Galadriel, I will give you
the One Ring, if you ask for it.

It's too great a matter for me.

And I came to test your heart.

You will give me the Great Ring freely...

and in place of the Dark Lord
you will set up a queen.

And I shall not be evil, but beautiful...

and terrible as the morning
and the night.

Stronger than the foundations
of the earth.

All shall love me and despair.

I passed the test.

I will diminish and go into the west,
and remain Galadriel.

And you must depart in the morning.

For Gondor and the House of Isildur.

For Gondor and the city of Minas Tirith.

In a few days, we will have to choose.

Shall we turn west with Boromir
and go to the wars of Gondor...

or turn east to Mordor
and its Dark Lord?

- Or shall we break our fellowship?
- I'm going with Mr. Frodo.

I know that, Sam.

What a place. What an horrible place.

Behold the Argonath,
the pillars of the kings.

They are Isildur and Anárion,
my fathers of old.

If Gandalf were here...

The day has come at last, the day
of choice, which we have long delayed.

What shall now become of our company?

I am not Gandalf.

I have tried to guide you
as he would've done, but...

if he had any plan for this moment,
he never told me.

Even if he had...

If he had lived...

I think the burden
would still have fallen on you, Frodo.

You alone can choose your way now.

The burden is heavy.

Give me an hour longer, and I will speak.

Let me be alone!

You shall have your hour.

And you shall be alone.

Who's there?

- Boromir.
- I was afraid for you, Frodo.

The Orcs may be on this side
of the river by now.

May I stay and talk to you,
just for a while?

You're kind,
but there's nothing to be said.

I know what I should do,
but I'm afraid of doing it, Boromir.

I wish I could help you.
Will you hear my counsel?

I know what your advice
would be, Boromir.

To go with you to Gondor
and use the Ring to defend Minas Tirith.

And is that such ill counsel?

Why should we fear to use the Ring
in a just cause?

Boromir, whatever is done with the Ring
turns to evil.

Gandalf and Elrond refused to touch it,
and Galadriel herself...

Yes, yes, I know all that.

For themselves, they may be right,
these Elves and half-Elves and Wizards!

But truehearted men will not be corrupted.
We, of Minas Tirith, do not seek power.

Only the strength to defend ourselves.
Where is the evil in that, Frodo?

You cannot answer, none of them can.

It's madness not to use
the power of the enemy against him.

Think what Aragorn could do
with the Ring in this hour.

Or if he refuses, why not Boromir?

How I would drive the hosts of Mordor...

until I stood face-to-face
with Sauron himself.

And they tell us to throw it away!

Come with me, Frodo.

My city is not far.

You can go to Mordor from there,
if you must.

Only, trust me, let me try my plan.

- Lend me the Ring.
- No, Boromir.

No.

Fool. Obstinate fool.
It is only yours by chance.

It might have been mine.

It should be mine. Give it to me!

Miserable trickster.
You'll sell us all to Sauron.

Traitor. Traitor!

Curse you to death and darkness,
all you Halflings!

What have I done?

Frodo, come back!

A madness took me, but it has passed.

Come back!

This waiting's horrible.

Where have you been, Boromir?
Have you seen Frodo?

I tried to convince him
to come to Minas Tirith.

I... I grew angry and he vanished.

Is that all you have to say?

- He put the Ring on.
- But where did he go? Where is he?

Mr. Frodo! Mr. Frodo!

Gimli, Legolas, stop them.

I don't know what part you've played
in this mischief, but help now!

Go after Merry and Pippin and guard them,
even if you cannot find Frodo. Go on!

Follow me, Sam. Stay close.

Whoa, Sam Gamgee.

Your legs are too short,
so use your head.

The boats.

Coming, Mr. Frodo. Coming.

It's only water, now.

- I'm here, Sam.
- Save me, Mr. Frodo.

- Help, I'm drowning.
- Take my hand.

- Where's your hand?
- Here. Here it is.

Of all the confounded nuisances
I ever knew.

Oh, Mr. Frodo, that's hard.

If I hadn't guessed right,
where would you be now?

Safely on my way.

Safely? All alone
and without me to help you?

But I am going to Mordor.

Well, of course you are,
Mr. Frodo, and I'm coming with you.

Oh, it's no good trying to escape you.

I'm glad, Sam.

May the others find a safe road.

Aragorn will look after them.

I don't...

Don't suppose we shall see them again.

Yet we may, Mr. Frodo. We may.

- This way.
- Frodo!

Frodo!

Halfling.

Boromir.

Boromir.

I tried to take the Ring from Frodo.

I'm sorry.

I have paid.

Aragorn...

Aragorn, go to Minas Tirith.

Save my people.

Aragorn...

I will go.

I promise you.

The Halflings.

Orcs took them.

I think they are not dead.

Either we take the last boat and follow
Frodo, or we follow the Orcs on foot.

Pippin and Merry may be dead by now.
We don't know.

We cannot forsake them.

The fate of the Ring-bearer
is in my hands no longer.

The company of the Ring
has played its part.

We follow the Orcs.

Filth. Maggots.

Can't run.

Hello, Pippin.

So you've come
on this little expedition too?

When do we get bed and breakfast?

Bed and breakfast in Isengard. Understand?

- They are alive.
- One of them, anyway.

Pippin, I think, by the footprints.

How far ahead of us are they now,
Aragorn?

Almost a day. Shall we rest by night,
or go on while our strength holds?

Do you think the Orcs will rest?

Yet, in the dark we may lose the trail,
or miss a sign, like that brooch.

- There will be no more signs.
- I cannot run all the way to Isengard.

Rohan. Rohan.

Thank goodness for that rope
the Elves gave you.

We'd never have gotten down
that last cliff without it.

There's that Mount Doom again,
Mr. Frodo. See it?

What a fix!

The one place
that we don't want to see any closer...

and that's the one place
we're trying to get to.

We're plain lost, Mr. Frodo.

I'm tired, Sam.
I don't know what's to be done.

We must find a place to camp, I suppose.
Maybe there'll be a path tomorrow.

Cautious, my precious.

Don't turn!

It's him.

That Gollum?
That thing who had Mr. Bilbo's ring?

He's been following us since Moria.

My precious. More haste, less speed.

Well, he'll be sorry he found us again.

Be careful.
He's much more dangerous than he looks.

Where is it, my precious?

It's ours, it is, and we wants it.

Got you, you spying...

Let go, Gollum.
Let go, or I'll cut your throat!

Don't hurt us.
Don't let them hurt us, precious.

Cruel little Hobbitses.

Jumps on us
like cats on poor mices, Gollum.

We'll be nice to them if they'll be nice
to us, won't we, precious?

Pity Mr. Bilbo didn't kill the creature
when he had the chance.

I will not touch him.

Now that I see him, I do pity him.

Yes, Hobbits won't kill us?
Nice Hobbits, huh?

No, we won't.
But we won't let you go, either.

You will have to come with us
and help us, if you can.

Ooh, yes. Yes, indeed. Nice Hobbits.

And where are they going in these cold,
hard lands, we wonder?

We are going to Mordor, Gollum.
You know that.

Lead us to the gates of his land.

No. No, precious.
Hobbits mustn't go there.

Gollum, Gollum. Leave us alone!

Gotcha!

I think your rope
might prove useful again, Sam.

Tie one end to his ankle.
We want him to walk.

Don't hurt us! No, no, no.

It burns. It bites. It freezes.
Take it off us. It hurts us.

- Don't you do it, Mr. Frodo.
- It hurts us.

What promise can you give me
that I can trust?

Sméagol will be very good.

Sméagol will swear
never to let him have it.

Sméagol will save it.

The precious is before you, Sméagol.
Speak your promise.

We promises, yes, I promise...

I will serve the master of the precious.

Good master. Good Sméagol.

Take the rope off, Sam.

Off we go. Follow Sméagol.

Sméagol knows a secret way, he does,
across the marshes.

Follow Sméagol. Follow.

It's far. Far, nice hobbits.

I said no shooting.

You're wasting arrows, dunghill swine.

Snaga, Lugdush, stand guard.

Bind their legs.

Whiteskins break through. Understand?

You and your stinking wizard.
You got us into this.

When I tell them in Mordor...

They are far.

Far away.

Stinking Wizard doesn't get you,
the Whiteskins will.

You won't get it that way.
It isn't easy to find.

Get it? Get what?

Nothing, my precious.

It's no good groping in the dark.

Uglúk will be back any minute.

Nothing for Mordor.

Nothing for poor Grishnákh. Gollum.

- Untie us, my precious.
- I said to be quiet.

Wait.

- You can't find it without our help.
- You help me?

I don't know what to do now.
I don't even know where we are.

You should have studied
maps more and played less in Rivendell.

This is Fangorn Forest.

Then we're no safer
than we were with the Orcs.

We've no blankets and almost no food. And
it looks like nothing to eat for 100 miles.

We don't even know
where we're trying to get to.

Let's climb up there.

Maybe we can find out
where we are at least.

It's nice here.

The forest looks so different
in the sunlight.

I know.

It's funny, but, well,
I almost feel I like the place.

Almost felt you liked the forest?

That's uncommonly kind of you.

The Orcs made us run. When we couldn't
run anymore, they carried us.

We cut our rope, ran to your hill...

"Hill"? Ooh!

A hasty word...

for something that has stood here
since the world was shaped.

You may call me Treebeard.

We thought you were a tree,
standing there.

Not a tree, a tree herder.

Please, Treebeard...

now that you know our story...

whose side are you on?

I am not altogether on anybody's side...

because nobody is altogether on my side.

But I am no friend
of these tree-killing Orcs...

and their masters.

They were here, no doubt of it.

- But where they went...
- I don't understand these other marks.

Look!

Your bow, Legolas. It's Aruman.

- Shoot before he puts a spell on us, quickly.
- Elf...

Man and Dwarf together?

- A rare sight in these times.
- Now. Stop him, Legolas.

Gandalf.

Beyond all hope.

- Gandalf!
- Yes.

Yes, that was my name.

But where have you...? Gandalf!

- What happened?
- A long time I fell.

Long I fell and he fell with me.
His fire was about me.

I was burned.

Ever he clutched me, and ever
I hewed him, far under the living earth...

until at last, he fled back up
the secret ways of Moria.

There we fought,
above the mists of the world...

and the mountain was wreathed
with lightning.

I threw down my enemy
and his fall broke the mountainside.

Then darkness took me...

and I wandered far,
on roads that I will not tell.

Naked, I was sent back for a brief time,
until my task was done.

And it is time I was about it.

You come with me to Edoras, my friends,
to the city of the Riders?

To Edoras, now?

But to leave Merry and Pippin?

They are in no danger, believe me.

The great danger is to Edoras.

Saruman's Orcs will attack there
within two days...

and King Théoden has need of us.

Théoden has grown old.

He shivers by his fire now...

and leaves everything in the hands
of his new minister...

Gríma Wormtongue.

Those riders you followed,
who rescued Merry and Pippin...

they were led
by Théoden's nephew, Éomer.

He is all but an outlaw
in Rohan these days.

But he hunts the Orcs
wherever he finds them...

defying Wormtongue's orders
to let them pass.

So Wormtongue calls him traitor
and renegade...

and Théoden believes.

Gandalf, the Riders of Rohan
are the bravest fighters I ever knew...

but they were never many.

If Saruman strikes now,
he will overrun Edoras in a single night.

Our time is at hand.

Théoden's hundreds will face
your tens of thousands.

And when all of Rohan,
your ancient oppressor, lies vanquished...

then shall we fly eastward...

and sweep all of Middle-earth
beneath our feet.

We cannot be defeated!

Halfway between Edoras and
Isengard, there lies an old, strong fortress...

that Men call Helm's Deep.

If we can decoy Saruman's Orcs there...

the fortress will stop them longer
than the wooden halls of Edoras.

- We are buying time, Aragorn.
- Time? Time for what?

Perhaps for a miracle.

Perhaps only for Frodo
to get a little further on his way...

while the armies
that should be hunting for the Ring...

waste their own time destroying us.

I have returned.

The storm comes swiftly, and it is time
for all friends to gather together.

And...

do you...

expect me...

to welcome you here...

Master Gandalf?

Troubles follow you like crows.

Why should I welcome you,
Gandalf Stormcrow?

Justly spoken, Lord.
In the east, the Dark Lord is stirring.

In Lórien, the sorceress
of the Golden Wood...

weaves her webs of deceit.

And such is the hour
in which this wanderer chooses to return.

It is I...

who counsel the King now.
He hears you no longer.

No, Gríma Wormtongue.

He hears nothing but your voice
telling him that he rules here...

only because Aruman is kind
to old men...

and that the best thing
for a sickly, feeble king...

is to let wizards and Orcs
do as they will in Rohan.

I am my own man, Gandalf...

as I was.

It is true that...

Gríma advises me often to leave
Aruman in peace...

Hear, my Lord, you tire yourself.
You are still unwell.

And he does remind me
that it would be safest for Rohan...

to seek their friendship,
no matter how I may feel!

Dear Lord, let me deal with
these troublesome guests.

How long has it been,
Gríma Wormtongue?

How long since Aruman bought you?

For I saw you at Isengard.

Did I not counsel
your doorkeeper to forbid his staff?

Down, snake.

Down on your belly.

Gríma is often...

at Isengard.
I send him there with messages.

And he returns with poison.

Aruman's poison in your ears,
Théoden king.

Chilling your heart, making you old.
Take courage, Lord of Rohan!

Gríma...

is this so?

I will not harm you, Gríma.

Is it so?

Ah! Let him go!

My sister-daughter, Éowyn.

My only loyal kin...

since her brother has disobeyed
my commands.

Wormtongue's command, Théoden.

If Éomer had not defied him...

our cause might be already lost.

Tell me, Gandalf...

what I must do now.

We cannot wait here
for Saruman's attack.

Every man that can ride
must be sent immediately...

to the old fortress of Helm's Deep.

When Saruman learns
that we have gone there, and he will...

we will have the Riders of Rohan.

I will find Éomer and his Riders.

My armor!

Look for me at Helm's Deep.

Ha-ha-ha. And he's gone again...

like a wind in the grass.

Stormcrow.

- Aragorn.
- My Lord?

Is there any hope for us?

Oh, Sam, you simpleminded...

Fell asleep.

Mr. Frodo, he's gone.

- Sméagol?
- He's gone. I didn't mean to sleep.

Well, he'll come back.
Promise will hold him a while yet.

He won't leave his precious, anyway.

Are we rested?

Hmm? Ready to go on...

nice Hobbitses?

Trust Sméagol now?

Shivery light.

Nasty. Nasty.

Look!

Wraiths.

Wraiths on wings.
The precious is calling them.

Gollum, wait, Mr. Frodo can't keep up.
Slow down, I tell you.

No time, no time.

The precious is heavy, yes.

Very heavy. Sméagol knows.

If it's too heavy for nice Master...

little Sméagol will carry it.

Sméagol doesn't mind.
Give it to Sméagol.

Do not say that again. Do not think it.

Before you touched the precious
ever again, Sméagol...

I would put it on and command you
to leap off a cliff, or into a fire...

and you would do it, Sméagol.

Nice, Master. Nice, Master. Nice.

Sméagol promised. Yes.
Yes, we promised to save our precious...

never to let him have it,
but it's going to him.

My precious is nearer every step.

I can't help it.
Sméagol promised to help nice Hobbit.

He took cruel rope off our leg.
He speaks nicely to me.

He's a Baggins, my precious.
A Baggins stoled it.

We hates Bagginses.
Must have the precious. Must have it.

We wants it. We wants it.

But there's two of them.

Yes.

We needs help, precious.
She might help, yes.

She might help us.

But Sméagol promised nice Hobbit.

Oh...

Nice. Nice Hobbit.

Hey, you.

What are you pawing at him for?

Where you been anyway,
sneaking off and sneaking back?

Sneaking? Sneaking?

Hobbit's always so polite, yes.

Tired, thirsty Sméagol. He finds
a secret way through the mountain.

A tunnel with no Orcses anywhere,
and they say "sneak." "Sneak"?

Well, you startled me. I'm sorry.

Hello, Sméagol.

- Where have you been?
- Sneaking! Hmph!

I like this place. There is good rock here.

This country has tough bones.

Up on the ridge. They're coming.
Here they are!

Fire of Isengard!

We're breached! Retreat to the caves!

The caves!

Théoden king.

I will not end here...

taken like an old badger in a trap.

When dawn comes...

I will bid men sound Helm's horn...

and I will ride forth.

Will you ride with me then,
son of Arathorn?

At least, we may make such an end...

as will be worth a song.

I will ride with you.

We're there, Sam.

Another day, maybe two.

When light comes tomorrow,
you'll see how near the mountains are.

Well, it's a good thing, Mr. Frodo,
because we're running awful low on food.

I reckon we've got enough left
to see us to this Mount Doom.

After that, I don't know.

Oh, Sam.

Samwise Gamgee.

My dearest Hobbit, friend of friends.

After that? If the Ring goes into the fire,
and we're at hand...

after that, dear Sam...

I wouldn't worry.

Just to get there. Just to get there.

The Ring is so heavy now, Sam.

We must go.

Mustn't rest here, silly Hobbits.

Orcs find us. Ringwraiths find us.
Must go on to safe, secret place.

Sméagol's secret way!

The straight stair...

and the winding stair.

Up, up, up...

through black, sharp mountains.

Follow good Sméagol.

Straight stair, winding stair...

what comes after that?

We shall see. Oh, yes...

we shall see.

Gandalf!

Gandalf!

The forces of darkness were driven forever...

from the face of Middle-earth...

by the valiant friends of Frodo.

As their gallant battle ended...

so too ends the first great tale of...

The Lord of the Rings.