subtitle by Adam and GZ
In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit.
Many ages ago, when this ancient planet was not quite so ancient...
... long before men recorded his history...
... here was the time of Middle Earth, where men shared his days with...
... elves, dwarves, wizards, goblins, dragons and... hobbits.
In the lands of Middle Earth, in an area known as the Shire...
... It was a village named Hobbiton.
There, in a hole in the ground there 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? Yes?
- I'm looking to hire a burglar. - Burglar?
I'm afraid 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'm Gandalf.
And Gandalf means me!
- Gandalf? Not the wondering wizard? - The same!
Listen.
Thorin and company, at your service.
Dwalin, Balin...
...Kili, Fili...
...Dori, Nori and Ori.
Oin, sir. And Gloin, sir.
Calling Bifur. And him, Bofur.
And Bombur at your service.
We are all at your service.
What do these dwarves want in Hobbiton?
They've come for tea, and for supper...
... and for you, Burgler 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 Burgler Baggins...
What is this burgler business?
If you prefer, you can say "expert treasure-hunter".
Well, yes, I do prefer that.
We have met tonight, in the house of our friend...
... this most excellent hobbit.
May the hair on his toes never fall out!
Cheer-cheer!
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 burgler.
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 men or elves.
For ancient king and elvish lord
There many a gloaming 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 biased with light,
And below us, in the valley lay Dale...
... the town of mortal men.
The bells were ringing in the dale And 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?
Non other.
There are thirteen of you. Very unlucky.
Mr. Baggins will make it fourteen.
A splendid lucky number you've found for us.
No arguments. Let us have the contract.
"To Burgler Baggins. Terms for your professional services.
One fourteenth of total profits, travelling expenses guarenteed.
Funeral expenses if necessary. Sincerely, Thorin and company."
- Funeral expenses? - Do you find the terms acceptable?
- Of course he does! - But, but I...
So, tomorrow begins your greatest adventure.
The Hobbit
No hat, no stick, no pipe.
Not even a pocket-handkerchief. How can one survive?
- How did Gandalf get ahead of us, Bombur? - He comes and goes with 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 found 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 burgler with us.
- What have trolls to do with burgling? - You could use some of that meat they're cooking.
- Oh, I say! - Burgler, do your burgling!
Blasted! Nothing but mutton to eat!
How I...
... look for a bit of bad flesh!
Bacon and eggs. My fireplace. Hot chestnuts.
- What the blazes? - Help! Help! Let me down! Stop that! 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. Done for it!
Dwarves?
That's our supper!
Let's go get 'em all!
Let's roast them.
No, boil them, says I!
It's to his own, boys!
There's plenty for all.
I likes mine roast.
Dawn take you all, and be stone to you!
The sun!
Blessed it!
How did the morning come so soon?
We're done for!
Excellent.
One moment. One moment!
Where's that bumbling burgler? Lucky number, indeed!
Over here!
Come and see what I've found!
Not bad, burgler, 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'm 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 one hundred years ago by your father.
What? Why did you 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.
Ah, I remember the Mountain whether not without this!
Indeed? And how do you intend to enter Smaug's chambers?
Through the main gate? As a house guest?
You'd be ash 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, burgler!
- 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.
And it's covered by a door made looking exactly like the side of the mountain.
Here is the key. Keep it safe.
But 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 dwelles.
Simply enchanting!
- But we must be on. - Pity.
Elvish singing is not a thing to miss...
... in June under the stars. But...
My dear Elrond, your hospitality is magnificent.
The food, the vine, the stories, the music.
Yes, but we've much to accomplish.
You promised to have a look at these troll swords after all feast.
Yes, yes, of course.
The 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.
- Keep them well. - I will keep this in honour.
- Now show me your map. - I have it here.
Something's 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 grey 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 found a 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've been 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, oh, truly tremendous one.
Ask him to explain his weapon!
This sword is named Orcrist, the Goblin-cleaver!
Murderers!
Elf-friends!
Stop!
I know that sword!
It is called: Glamdring, the Foe-hammer!
Gandalf! Good old Gandalf!
Follow me! Quickly!
Through here! Follow me!
Bilbo!
He is gone!
Bilbo, where are you?
My precious.
It is my precious.
Hello, my precious.
Bless us and splash us.
Food for my precious.
Eggs and bacon. ---.
--- and sweet butter.
What is that noise, my precious?
My precious does not know.
Bless my soul!
Hello! What's this?
A souvenir to show the neighbours back home. If I ever get home.
Oh, 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?
Perhaps ye sits here...
... and chats with it a bitsy, my preciousss.
It... 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 eat 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...
... guess...
... the answer?
Half a moment.
Is it nice, my precious? Is it juicy?
Gluey? Tacky?
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!
Eggs, it is!
Oh, buffer!
Us, now! Now, us, my precious.
I'm a quitter with anticipation!
Now...
This thing all 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 is the answer? What is the answer?
Just a moment now!
My precious...
... will it taste delicious?
Yes! 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 is fun. Now couldn't we get out of here?
No! It's got to ask us another riddle, my precious! Yes! Yes!
Oh, blessed! 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 nassty little...
... pocketses?
I'm sorry. That's my riddle.
If you can't guess it, you lose. And show me out!
Oh, my precious loses!
But first...
... my 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, my birthday present, from its hiding place.
Now, what?
You'll never guess my pocket contains this.
Bless my soul!
Where is it?
My golden ring! My magic ring!
It is lost!
Lost!
Precious! My precious! My ring, lost!
My precious remembers.
He wears it before...
... and he drops it on the shore!
Curse it! Curse the Baggins!
He found it! My ring!
My birthday present!
Am I he does carry on?
Bless my soul!
The ring?
Yes, most definitely.
My precious! We find it! We find it! The Baggins.
My precious will crush it...
... and smash it!
Better does this.
Where is it?
It is tricksy.
It says it doesn't know the way out...
... but it knows a way in, my precious.
It must...
... know a way out!
It's off to 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.
Escaped! Escaped!
Thief!
Baggins!
We hate it!
Hate it for ever!
You see, Gollum thought I knew the way out, and wished 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, sort of speak.
Your story, Bilbo, has the ring of truth. Yes, it rings true.
You need say no more. We best gotta 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 are on the other side to the edge of the Land Beyond.
- A warg! - With the goblins!
- Help! - We can't crawl any higher!
- Oh, my arms. - My poor legs! My legs!
But what do they do with us? Drop us to our deaths?
Who knows?
But they've brought us of far distance with no dropping!
Yehoo! The river of Wilderland below!
My thunder!
They're taking us to the edge of Mirkwood Forest...
... to dash us against those rocks, I know it!
Oh, great lord of 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...
... to your aeries receive you at the journey's end.
So this is the forest of Mirkwood.
Terrible place if I remember. And dangerous.
No-no. 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 of Mirkwood.
You speak as if you ain'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.
No-no. 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 soon you'll find out there's more about you than you guess.
You, sir, will be my surrogate. My replacement, so the same.
Here is paper and a marker. Keep a strict log, the remainder of your journey.
... so I may study it when we meet again and point out your missed steps.
I can only do my best.
Then, I'll have to suffice.