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- Джон Толкин
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- Властелин колец: Две башни
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- Стр. 273/332
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'
Yet
now
,
if
the
Rohirrim
are
grown
in
some
ways
more
like
to
us
,
enhanced
in
arts
and
gentleness
,
we
too
have
become
more
like
to
them
,
and
can
scarce
claim
any
longer
the
title
High
.
We
are
become
Middle
Men
,
of
the
Twilight
,
but
with
memory
of
other
things
.
For
as
the
Rohirrim
do
,
we
now
love
war
and
valour
as
things
good
in
themselves
,
both
a
sport
and
an
end
;
and
though
we
still
hold
that
a
warrior
should
have
more
skills
and
knowledge
than
only
the
craft
of
weapons
and
slaying
,
we
esteem
a
warrior
,
nonetheless
,
above
men
of
other
crafts
.
Such
is
the
need
of
our
days
.
So
even
was
my
brother
,
Boromir
:
a
man
of
prowess
,
and
for
that
he
was
accounted
the
best
man
in
Gondor
.
And
very
valiant
indeed
he
was
:
no
heir
of
Minas
Tirith
has
for
long
years
been
so
hardy
in
toil
,
so
onward
into
battle
,
or
blown
a
mightier
note
on
the
Great
Horn
.
'
Faramir
sighed
and
fell
silent
for
a
while
.
'
You
do
n't
say
much
in
all
your
tales
about
the
Elves
,
sir
,
'
said
Sam
,
suddenly
plucking
up
courage
.
He
had
noted
that
Faramir
seemed
to
refer
to
Elves
with
reverence
,
and
this
even
more
than
his
courtesy
,
and
his
food
and
wine
,
had
won
Sam
's
respect
and
quieted
his
suspicions
.
'
No
indeed
,
Master
Samwise
,
'
said
Faramir
,
'
for
I
am
not
learned
in
Elven-lore
.
But
there
you
touch
upon
another
point
in
which
we
have
changed
,
declining
from
Númenor
to
Middle-earth
.
For
as
you
may
know
,
if
Mithrandir
was
your
companion
and
you
have
spoken
with
Elrond
,
the
Edain
,
the
Fathers
of
the
Númenoreans
,
fought
beside
the
Elves
in
the
first
wars
,
and
were
rewarded
by
the
gift
of
the
kingdom
in
the
midst
of
the
Sea
,
within
sight
of
Elvenhome
.
But
in
Middle-earth
Men
and
Elves
became
estranged
in
the
days
of
darkness
,
by
the
arts
of
the
Enemy
,
and
by
the
slow
changes
of
time
in
which
each
kind
walked
further
down
their
sundered
roads
.
Men
now
fear
and
misdoubt
the
Elves
,
and
yet
know
little
of
them
.
And
we
of
Gondor
grow
like
other
Men
,
like
the
men
of
Rohan
;
for
even
they
,
who
are
the
foes
of
the
Dark
Lord
,
shun
the
Elves
and
speak
of
the
Golden
Wood
with
dread
.
'
Yet
there
are
among
us
still
some
who
have
dealings
with
the
Elves
when
they
may
,
and
ever
and
anon
one
will
go
in
secret
to
Lórien
,
seldom
to
return
.
Not
I.
For
I
deem
it
perilous
now
for
mortal
man
wilfully
to
seek
out
the
Elder
People
.
Yet
I
envy
you
that
have
spoken
with
the
White
Lady
.
'
'
The
Lady
of
Lórien
!
Galadriel
!
'
cried
Sam
.
'
You
should
see
her
indeed
you
should
,
sir
.
I
am
only
a
hobbit
,
and
gardening
's
my
job
at
home
,
sir
,
if
you
understand
me
,
and
I
'm
not
much
good
at
poetry
-
not
at
making
it
:
a
bit
of
a
comic
rhyme
,
perhaps
.
now
and
again
,
you
know
,
but
not
real
poetry
-
so
I
ca
n't
tell
you
what
I
mean
.
It
ought
to
be
sung
.
You
'd
have
to
get
Strider
,
Aragorn
that
is
,
or
old
Mr.
Bilbo
,
for
that
.
But
I
wish
I
could
make
a
song
about
her
.
Beautiful
she
is
,
sir
!
Lovely
!
Sometimes
like
a
great
tree
in
flower
,
sometimes
like
a
white
daffadowndilly
,
small
and
slender
like
.
Hard
as
di
'm
onds
,
soft
as
moonlight
.
Warm
as
sunlight
,
cold
as
frost
in
the
stars
.
Proud
and
far-off
as
a
snow-mountain
,
and
as
merry
as
any
lass
I
ever
saw
with
daisies
in
her
hair
in
springtime
.
But
that
's
a
lot
o
'
nonsense
,
and
all
wide
of
my
mark
.
'
'
Then
she
must
be
lovely
indeed
,
'
said
Faramir
.
'
Perilously
fair
.
'
'
I
do
n't
know
about
perilous
,
'
said
Sam
.
'
It
strikes
me
that
folk
takes
their
peril
with
them
into
Lórien
,
and
finds
it
there
because
they
've
brought
it
.
But
perhaps
you
could
call
her
perilous
,
because
she
's
so
strong
in
herself
.
You
,
you
could
dash
yourself
to
pieces
on
her
,
like
a
ship
on
a
rock
;
or
drownd
yourself
,
like
a
hobbit
in
a
river
.
But
neither
rock
nor
river
would
be
to
blame
.
Now
Boro
-
'
He
stopped
and
went
red
in
the
face
.
'
Yes
?
Now
Boromir
you
would
say
?
'
said
Faramir
.
'
What
would
you
say
?
He
took
his
peril
with
him
?
'
