Властелин колец: Две башни
The King of the Golden Hall
Inthecentreuponhisforeheadshoneasinglewhitediamond.Hisbeardwaslaidlikesnowuponhisknees;buthiseyesstillburnedwithabrightlight,glintingashegazedatthestrangers.Behindhischairstoodawomancladinwhite.Athisfeetuponthestepssatawizenedfigureofaman,withapalewisefaceandheavy-liddedeyes.
Therewasasilence.Theoldmandidnotmoveinhischair.AtlengthGandalfspoke.’Hail,ThéodensonofThengel!Ihavereturned.Forbehold!thestormcomes,andnowallfriendsshouldgathertogether,lesteachsinglybedestroyed.’
Slowlytheoldmanrosetohisfeet,leaningheavilyuponashortblackstaffwithahandleofwhitebone;andnowthestrangerssawthat,bentthoughhewas,hewasstilltallandmustinyouthhavebeenhighandproudindeed.
’Igreetyou,’hesaid,’andmaybeyoulookforwelcome.Buttruthtotellyourwelcomeisdoubtfulhere,MasterGandalf.Youhaveeverbeenaheraldofwoe.Troublesfollowyoulikecrows,andevertheoftenertheworse.Iwillnotdeceiveyou:whenIheardthatShadowfaxhadcomebackriderless,Irejoicedatthereturnofthehorse,butstillmoreatthelackoftherider;andwhenÉomerbroughtthetidingsthatyouhadgoneatlasttoyourlonghome,Ididnotmourn.Butnewsfromafarisseldomsooth.Hereyoucomeagain!Andwithyoucomeevilsworsethanbefore,asmightbeexpected.WhyshouldIwelcomeyou,GandalfStormcrow?Tellmethat.’Slowlyhesatdownagaininhischair.
