Читаем Fellowship of the Ring полностью

Everyone in the room was now looking at him. 'A song!' shouted one of the hobbits. 'A song! A song!' shouted all the others. 'Come on now, master, sing us something that we haven't heard before!'

For a moment Frodo stood gaping. Then in desperation he began a ridiculous song that Bilbo had been rather fond of (and indeed rather proud of, for he had made up the words himself). It was about an inn; and that is probably why it came into Frodo's mind just then. Here it is in full. Only a few words of it are now, as a rule, remembered.

There is an inn, a merry old innbeneath an old grey hill,And there they brew a beer so brownThat the Man in the Moon himself came downone night to drink his fill.The ostler has a tipsy catthat plays a five-stringed fiddle;And up and down he runs his bow,Now squeaking high, now purring low,now sawing in the middle.The landlord keeps a little dogthat is mighty fond of jokes;When there's good cheer among the guests,He cocks an ear at all the jestsand laughs until he chokes.They also keep a horned cowas proud as any queen;But music turns her head like ale,And makes her wave her tufted tailand dance upon the green.And O! the rows of silver dishesand the store of silver spoons!For Sunday5 there's a special pair,And these they polish up with careon Saturday afternoons.The Man in the Moon was drinking deep,and the cat began to wail;A dish and a spoon on the table danced,The cow in the garden madly pranced,and the little dog chased his tail.The Man in the Moon took another mug,and then rolled beneath his chair;And there he dozed and dreamed of ale,Till in the sky the stars were pale,and dawn was in the air.Then the ostler said to his tipsy cat:‘The white horses of the Moon,They neigh and champ their silver bits;But their master's been and drowned his wits,and the Sun'll be rising soon!’So the cat on his fiddle played hey-diddle-diddle,a jig that would wake the dead:He squeaked and sawed and quickened the tune,While the landlord shook the Man in the Moon:'It's after three!' he said.They rolled the Man slowly up the hilland bundled him into the Moon,While his horses galloped up in rear,And the cow came capering like a deer,and a dish ran up with the spoon.Now quicker the fiddle went deedle-dum-diddle;the dog began to roar,The cow and the horses stood on their heads;The guests all bounded from their bedsand danced upon the floor.With a ping and a pong the fiddle-strings broke!the cow jumped over the Moon,And the little dog laughed to see such fun,And the Saturday dish went off at a runwith the silver Sunday spoon.The round Moon rolled behind the hillas the Sun raised up her head.She6 hardly believed her fiery eyes;For though it was day, to her surprisethey all went back to bed!
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