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- Джон Толкин
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- Властелин колец: Две башни
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- Стр. 229/332
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He
was
facing
it
,
and
its
potency
beat
upon
his
brow
.
Gollum
probably
felt
something
of
the
same
sort
.
But
what
went
on
in
his
wretched
heart
between
the
pressure
of
the
Eye
,
and
the
lust
of
the
Ring
that
was
so
near
,
and
his
grovelling
promise
made
half
in
the
fear
of
cold
iron
,
the
hobbits
did
not
guess
:
Frodo
gave
no
thought
to
it
.
Sam
's
mind
was
occupied
mostly
with
his
master
hardly
noticing
the
dark
cloud
that
had
fallen
on
his
own
heart
.
He
put
Frodo
in
front
of
him
now
,
and
kept
a
watchful
eye
on
every
movement
of
his
,
supporting
him
if
he
stumbled
,
and
trying
to
encourage
him
with
clumsy
words
.
When
day
came
at
last
the
hobbits
were
surprised
to
see
how
much
closer
the
ominous
mountains
had
already
drawn
.
The
air
was
now
clearer
and
colder
,
and
though
still
far
off
,
the
walls
of
Mordor
were
no
longer
a
cloudy
menace
on
the
edge
of
sight
,
but
as
grim
black
towers
they
frowned
across
a
dismal
waste
.
The
marshes
were
at
an
end
,
dying
away
into
dead
peats
and
wide
flats
of
dry
cracked
mud
.
The
land
ahead
rose
in
long
shallow
slopes
,
barren
and
pitiless
,
towards
the
desert
that
lay
at
Sauron
's
gate
.
While
the
grey
light
lasted
,
they
cowered
under
a
black
stone
like
worms
,
shrinking
,
lest
the
winged
terror
should
pass
and
spy
them
with
its
cruel
eyes
.
The
remainder
of
that
journey
was
a
shadow
of
growing
fear
in
which
memory
could
find
nothing
to
rest
upon
.
For
two
more
nights
they
struggled
on
through
the
weary
pathless
land
.
The
air
,
as
it
seemed
to
them
,
grew
harsh
,
and
filled
with
a
bitter
reek
that
caught
their
breath
and
parched
their
mouths
.
At
last
,
on
the
fifth
morning
since
they
took
the
road
with
Gollum
,
they
halted
once
more
.
Before
them
dark
in
the
dawn
the
great
mountains
reached
up
to
roofs
of
smoke
and
cloud
.
Out
from
their
feet
were
flung
huge
buttresses
and
broken
hills
that
were
now
at
the
nearest
scarce
a
dozen
miles
away
.
Frodo
looked
round
in
horror
.
Dreadful
as
the
Dead
Marshes
had
been
,
and
the
arid
moors
of
the
Noman-lands
,
more
loathsome
far
was
the
country
that
the
crawling
day
now
slowly
unveiled
to
his
shrinking
eyes
.
Even
to
the
Mere
of
Dead
Faces
some
haggard
phantom
of
green
spring
would
come
;
but
here
neither
spring
nor
summer
would
ever
come
again
.
Here
nothing
lived
,
not
even
the
leprous
growths
that
feed
on
rottenness
.
The
gasping
pools
were
choked
with
ash
and
crawling
muds
,
sickly
white
and
grey
,
as
if
the
mountains
had
vomited
the
filth
of
their
entrails
upon
the
lands
about
.
High
mounds
of
crushed
and
powdered
rock
,
great
cones
of
earth
fire-blasted
and
poison-stained
,
stood
like
an
obscene
graveyard
in
endless
rows
,
slowly
revealed
in
the
reluctant
light
.
They
had
come
to
the
desolation
that
lay
before
Mordor
:
the
lasting
monument
to
the
dark
labour
of
its
slaves
that
should
endure
when
all
their
purposes
were
made
void
;
a
land
defiled
,
diseased
beyond
all
healing
-
unless
the
Great
Sea
should
enter
in
and
wash
it
with
oblivion
.
'
I
feel
sick
,
'
said
Sam
.
Frodo
did
not
speak
.
For
a
while
they
stood
there
,
like
men
on
the
edge
of
a
sleep
where
nightmare
lurks
,
holding
it
off
,
though
they
know
that
they
can
only
come
to
morning
through
the
shadows
.
The
light
broadened
and
hardened
.
The
gasping
pits
and
poisonous
mounds
grew
hideously
clear
.
The
sun
was
up
,
walking
among
clouds
and
long
flags
of
smoke
,
but
even
the
sunlight
was
defiled
.
The
hobbits
had
no
welcome
for
that
light
;
unfriendly
it
seemed
,
revealing
them
in
their
helplessness
-
little
squeaking
ghosts
that
wandered
among
the
ash-heaps
of
the
Dark
Lord
.
Too
weary
to
go
further
they
sought
for
some
place
where
they
could
rest
.
For
a
while
they
sat
without
speaking
under
the
shadow
of
a
mound
of
slag
;
but
foul
fumes
leaked
out
of
it
,
catching
their
throats
and
choking
them
.
Gollum
was
the
first
to
get
up
.
Spluttering
and
cursing
he
rose
,
and
without
a
word
or
a
glance
at
the
hobbits
he
crawled
away
on
all
fours
.
Frodo
and
Sam
crawled
after
him
,
until
they
came
to
a
wide
almost
circular
pit
,
high-banked
upon
the
west
.
It
was
cold
and
dead
,
and
a
foul
sump
of
oily
many-coloured
ooze
lay
at
its
bottom
.
In
this
evil
hole
they
cowered
,
hoping
in
its
shadow
to
escape
the
attention
of
the
Eye
.
The
day
passed
slowly
.
A
great
thirst
troubled
them
,
but
they
drank
only
a
few
drops
from
their
bottles-last
filled
in
the
gully
,
which
now
as
they
looked
back
in
thought
seemed
to
them
a
place
of
peace
and
beauty
.
The
hobbits
took
it
in
turn
to
watch
.
At
first
,
tired
as
they
were
,
neither
of
them
could
sleep
at
all
;
but
as
the
sun
far
away
was
climbing
down
into
slow
moving
cloud
,
Sam
dozed
.
It
was
Frodo
's
turn
to
be
on
guard
.
He
lay
back
on
the
slope
of
the
pit
,
but
that
did
not
ease
the
sense
of
burden
that
was
on
him
.
