Властелин колец: Две башни
The Choices of Master Samwise
SamhadfallentohiskneesbyFrodo’shead,hissensesreelinginthefoulstench,histwohandsstillgrippingthehiltofthesword.ThroughthemistbeforehiseyeshewasawaredimlyofFrodo’sfaceandstubbornlyhefoughttomasterhimselfandtodraghimselfoutoftheswoonthatwasuponhim.Slowlyheraisedhisheadandsawher,onlyafewpacesaway,eyeinghim,herbeakdrabblingaspittleofvenom,andagreenoozetricklingfrombelowherwoundedeye.Thereshecrouched,hershudderingbellysplayedupontheground,thegreatbowsofherlegsquivering,asshegatheredherselfforanotherspring-thistimetocrushandstingtodeath:nolittlebiteofpoisontostillthestrugglingofhermeat;thistimetoslayandthentorend.
EvenasSamhimselfcrouched,lookingather,seeinghisdeathinhereyes,athoughtcametohim,asifsomeremotevoicehadspoken.andhefumbledinhisbreastwithhislefthand,andfoundwhathesought:coldandhardandsoliditseemedtohistouchinaphantomworldofhorror,thePhialofGaladriel.
’Galadriel!’hesaidfaintly,andthenheheardvoicesfaroffbutclear:thecryingoftheElvesastheywalkedunderthestarsinthebelovedshadowsoftheShire,andthemusicoftheElvesasitcamethroughhissleepintheHallofFireinthehouseofElrond.
