Chapter Text
Scene 1: Bag End
A bare stage. House lights on but low. GANDALF occupies the tech booth. Firework effects (light and sound) are playing as the house doors open. Several HOBBITS enter through the house doors along with the AUDIENCE and move gradually toward the stage, chatting and laughing among themselves, exclaiming over the fireworks, and ad-libbing with the AUDIENCE. They seat themselves on the lip of the stage, on the floor, or in the first two rows among the AUDIENCE. FRODO and MERRY enter through the house doors and move through the crowd with trays or baskets, passing out snacks and drinks and ad-libbing jokes and greetings. House lights remain on. Some HOBBITS may begin a SONG, encouraging the AUDIENCE to join the chorus.
BILBO enters and quietly takes the stage with one hand fiddling in his pocket.
BILBO: My dear people!
Firework effects cease abruptly. Lights down on house, up on stage. Singing and talking stops (mostly). Clapping, whistling, shouts of “hear, hear!” The AUDIENCE is encouraged to join in.
BILBO: My dear Bagginses and Boffins!
Cheers.
BILBO: My dear Tooks and Brandybucks!
More cheers.
BILBO: Grubbs!
Cheers.
BILBO: Chubbs!
Cheers.
BILBO: Burrowses! Hornblowers! Bolgers, Bracegirdles, Goodbodies, Brockhouses and Proudfoots!
HOBBIT: ProudFEET!
BILBO: And of course my good cousins, the Sackville-Bagginses! May we be on better terms henceforward. Today is—
A lone firework goes off, interrupting him.
GANDALF (from tech booth): Sorry!
BILBO: That reminds me. May I ask you all please to take a moment and turn off any squibs, crackers, or other noisemaking devices you may have brought with you? Thank you! Also toilets are in the hall and there will be a brief intermission midway through the show. As I was saying: today is my one hundred and eleventh birthday. I am eleventy-one today!
Cheers, clapping, general hilarity. Ad-libs of “many happy returns”, etc.
BILBO: I hope you are all enjoying yourselves as much as I am!
Cheers.
BILBO: I have called you all together for a PURPOSE.
Attention.
BILBO: Indeed, for three purposes! First of all, to tell you that I am immensely fond of you all, and that eleventy-one years is too short a time to spend among such excellent and admirable hobbits!
Cheers.
BILBO: I don’t know half of you half as well as I should like, and I like less than half of you half as well as you deserve.
Confusion.
BILBO: Secondly, to celebrate my birthday! I should say, OUR birthday. For it is, of course, also the birthday of my nephew and heir, Frodo Baggins. He comes of age and into his inheritance today!
MERRY shoves FRODO up onto the stage, where BILBO embraces him.
BILBO: Happy birthday, my dear boy.
Cheers from most of the HOBBITS. FRODO waves in acknowledgement and jumps back down from the stage.
BILBO: Thirdly and finally, I wish to make an ANNOUNCEMENT.
He pauses, glancing at GANDALF in the tech booth.
BILBO: I regret to announce that—although, as I said, eleventy-one years is far too short a time to spend among you—this is the END. I am leaving. In fact, I am going NOW. Goodbye!
There is a sudden bang, a puff of smoke, and a brief blackout. When the lights come up, BILBO is gone. HOBBITS are shocked and upset; some climb up onto the stage to tap the spot where BILBO had stood, or wave their arms above it. GANDALF exits quietly.
HOBBITS, ad-lib: Where did he go? Did he just disappear? You can’t just disappear, silly. Well, where did he go? Maybe he exploded. No, there’d be bits. How fast can he run? Not that fast, he’s a hundred and eleven. Well, where’d he go then? This is ridiculous. What about the party? Where’s Frodo? Where’s Gandalf? Do you think Gandalf did it? That’s what comes of meddling with wizards. Well, I’m going home. Is there any food left? Haven’t you had enough? It might be nasty wizard food that makes you explode. I had a lot already. Let’s go home.
While speaking, HOBBITS gradually exit by various routes, leaving the stage and area littered with trays, napkins, cups, and party favors. FRODO wanders onto the stage, looking at the place where BILBO disappeared. MERRY joins him.
FRODO: I guess the party’s over.
MERRY: It was a good party.
Enter GANDALF, unseen.
FRODO: I’m going to miss him, I’m afraid.
MERRY: We all will. Odd how he just vanished like that, wasn’t it? Some sort of trick I suppose?
FRODO: Very odd. Get some bins or something, will you, Merry? We’d better tidy this.
Exit MERRY.
FRODO: Gandalf?
GANDALF: Yes.
FRODO: He is gone?
GANDALF: Not from Middle-Earth, but from Hobbiton, yes. You’re master of Bag End now, Frodo.
FRODO: Yes, I suppose I am. How odd that sounds.
GANDALF: You’ll find Bilbo’s will and all his documents on the mantel in the study. You’ll also find there, I fancy, a certain Ring.
FRODO: Really? He left me the Ring? I thought he’d take it with him.
GANDALF: It’s as well he didn’t. He was getting…unhealthily attached to it.
FRODO: Well, I suppose it could be useful to be able to slip it on and vanish when the Sackville-Bagginses come round—
GANDALF: No, don’t do that. Don’t use it at all, Frodo, I beg you.
FRODO: Why not?
GANDALF: I can’t say yet, if there is anything to say. I had better be off. I fancy by morning some people will have decided to make me responsible for Bilbo’s disappearance, and that sounds tiresome. Look after that Ring.
Exit GANDALF. FRODO goes to a shelf and retrieves a thick envelope. He takes out the RING and examines it. Enter MERRY, pushing a WHEELBARROW in which PIPPIN is seated. They begin picking up the party detritus.
MERRY: I found something. Two things. One useful, one not so much. Get out.
PIPPIN: I’m sorry I missed Uncle Bilbo’s speech. I had some very important business to attend to—
MERRY: He was kissing Petunia Bracegirdle behind the hedge.
PIPPIN: I was not! You saw us?
MERRY: It doesn’t take a wizard, Pip. What have you got there?
FRODO hastily stuffs the RING in his pocket. MERRY and PIPPIN bring in two chairs; a fireplace, which may be represented by a brazier; and a round, green door.
FRODO: Just some things of Bilbo’s.
MERRY: Things, eh? Everything in Bag End, I should think. Look at this! All yours!
PIPPIN: Have we missed Gandalf?
FRODO: Yes, he just left.
PIPPIN: Just like him to leave without a fond farewell.
FRODO: Perils of kissing in hedges, Pip.
PIPPIN: It was behind the hedge. In sounds frankly uncomfortable.
MERRY: When do you think you’ll see him again?
FRODO: He didn’t say. Could be years, I suppose.
MERRY: Well, good night, Mr Baggins of Bag End. And happy birthday.
PIPPIN: Many returns.
FRODO: Good night. Stay out of that hedge, Pippin, or old Hamfast will have my hide.
MERRY: I’ll make sure of it.
PIPPIN: No promises!
Laughing, FRODO seats himself in one of the chairs by the fire.
Offstage whistling. Enter SAM with the WHEELBARROW, now containing plants and garden paraphernalia. He unloads these and begins working with them, while addressing the AUDIENCE.
SAM: Mr Bilbo always did like his delphiniums. He’d be pleased to see how these have done since he left. I should introduce myself. Samwise Gamgee, the gardener here at Bag End. My granddad was first, and then my dad and now me. S’pose I’ll pass it on if I ever have a son. Or a daughter, maybe.
Enter GANDALF, through the AUDIENCE, visibly perturbed.
SAM: Mr Gandalf, sir! It’s good to see you again, sir.
GANDALF: Sam! You startled me. Is Mr Baggins in?
SAM: Yes, sir, you’ll find him in the study.
GANDALF: Thank you. And Sam, there’s no need to mention to anyone I’m here.
SAM: No need at all, sir.
GANDALF joins FRODO by the fire. In dumb show, they greet one another and converse. SAM meanwhile looks around cautiously, then puts two fingers in his mouth and whistles sharply. Enter MERRY and PIPPIN severally.
MERRY: What’s up?
SAM: Mr Gandalf arrived just now, Mr Merry. I thought you’d want to know.
MERRY: Right you are. Is he with Frodo now?
SAM: I think so, sir. In the study. Mr Gandalf didn’t seem to want anyone to know he was here.
MERRY: Well, you know what to do, Sam. Pippin, you’re with me?
PIPPIN: All right, all right. Though I would like a turn being spy for once.
MERRY: Sam can be quiet. You’d trip over something and give us all away.
PIPPIN: Would not.
MERRY: Would.
SAM: That’s fair, Mr Pippin.
PIPPIN: Oh, all right! Off we go then. Sam! Don’t you get caught.
SAM: Me, sir?
MERRY: Where’s my list? I had a list.
PIPPIN: Back pocket.
MERRY: Thank you.
PIPPIN: And if you do get caught, lie like blazes. Are you sure I wouldn’t do better, Merry?
MERRY: Come on. Shh!
PIPPIN: Shh!
SAM: Shh!
Exit MERRY and PIPPIN with a show of secrecy. SAM addresses AUDIENCE.
SAM: That goes for you all too. Mr Merry won’t forgive us if we let Mr Frodo go off on his own like Bilbo did. You’ll help me? Here we go. Hush now.
SAM leaves the stage, crosses nearer to FRODO and GANDALF, takes up a post near or in the AUDIENCE, and listens.
FRODO: Hold up a moment, I’ve got to get this straight in my head. So you’re saying the Ring—Bilbo’s ring, my ring—belongs to—
GANDALF: To Sauron, the Dark Lord of Mordor. I believe so. Yes.
FRODO: And he wants it back.
GANDALF: He does.
FRODO: And so long as I’ve got it, I’m a sort of magnet for his emissaries. They’ll try to hunt me down and take it.
GANDALF: Most likely. The Dark Lord doesn’t know yet where the ring is, but it calls to him and he to it. They will find one another eventually, and when they do, his power will be unmatched.
FRODO: The Shire isn’t safe as long as it’s here, is it? My friends aren’t safe.
GANDALF: No. Nor are you so long as you’ve got it.
FRODO: I must get rid of it, then.
GANDALF: There is one more test to make before I can know for certain that this is the one Ring. Put it in your fire here. Go on.
FRODO: I can’t. It might…melt, or something.
GANDALF: And that would grieve you?
FRODO: I suppose it would.
GANDALF: The Ring does not leave its servants willingly.
FRODO: Am I its servant now?
GANDALF: I hope not, my dear Frodo. Go on. It won’t harm it.
With an effort, FRODO tosses the RING into the fire. GANDALF picks it up with a pair of tongs and places it in FRODO’s hand again.
FRODO: It’s not even warm.
GANDALF: Look at it closely. Do you see any change?
FRODO: There are letters visible now, inscribed in the gold. Elvish letters, but I cannot read them.
GANDALF: No. They are written in the language of Mordor. I will not speak it, only translate. “One ring to rule them all, one ring to find them, one ring to bring them all and in the darkness bind them.” So my guess was correct: this is the one Ring, Sauron’s Ring.
FRODO: Take it.
GANDALF: Frodo—
FRODO: Take it from me. I don’t want it. You can guard it, or destroy it, or—
GANDALF: No! Don’t offer the ring to me. The power contained in that Ring cannot be used for good, it must always serve its lord. The temptation to use it would be too much for me.
FRODO: You’re stronger than I am, Gandalf, and wiser—
GANDALF: That’s precisely why I mustn’t possess the ring, not even for a moment. It would prey on my wisdom and become my folly. Don’t tempt me, Frodo.
FRODO: Is there someone else I can give it to? I can’t keep it here.
GANDALF: It cannot be kept anywhere forever. Either the Dark Lord will find it or it will corrupt those who keep it, however pure their intentions. Nor can it be destroyed except in the place where it was first made: in Mordor, in the fires of Mount Doom, under Sauron’s very nose.
FRODO: And I can hardly trust anyone who would take it from me, if you won’t.
GANDALF: I’m afraid it looks rather as if you’ve been chosen to bear it, at least for now.
FRODO: Chosen by whom?
GANDALF: I doubt it would be for me to say, even if I knew.
FRODO: You are asking me to leave the Shire, aren’t you?
GANDALF: I can’t decide that for you, Frodo.
FRODO: But if I don’t, I put everyone I love in danger.
Pause.
FRODO: All right. I’ll go.
SAM splutters.
GANDALF: I think—what was that sound?
FRODO: I didn’t hear anything.
GANDALF gets up, strides to the edge of the stage, sees SAM listening in and hauls him onto the stage by his ear.
GANDALF: Samwise Gamgee. Why were you eavesdropping? What did you hear?
SAM: There’s no eaves at Bag End, sir. Mr Frodo—
GANDALF: What did you hear?
SAM: Mr Bilbo’s Ring is evil and has to be tossed into a fiery mountain before the Dark Lord gets to it or we’ll all die. Mr Frodo, sir! Don’t let him turn me into a toad or anything unnatural.
FRODO: It’s all right, Sam. He won’t.
GANDALF: No, indeed! I have thought of a better punishment. You shall go with Frodo. He ought not to go alone.
SAM: Me, sir? Leave Bag End, sir?
GANDALF: And keep secret about it! Or I really will turn you into a toad.
SAM: I’ll keep secret, sir.
GANDALF: You should leave soon, Frodo, before the end of summer at the latest. If you make for Rivendell, Elrond can counsel you on what to do next.
FRODO: You won’t come with us?
GANDALF: I must be off. There are matters I must attend to. But I’ll be back before the end of summer to see you on your way, Frodo. You have my word.
FRODO: All right.
Exit GANDALF.
SAM: Have we really got to leave, sir?
FRODO retrieves a “For Sale” sign, which he plants in front of the door.
FRODO: I’m afraid so, Sam.
SAM starts loading his gardening
SAM: Have they got gardens in Rivendell, do you think?
FRODO: The elves? I should think so. Hurry up now, here come my cousins.
SAM puts his gardening supplies back in the wheelbarrow. Enter LOBELIA and LOTHO SACKVILLE-BAGGINS. FRODO produces a key, which he gives to LOBELIA.
FRODO: Welcome to Bag End, cousin Lobelia. I hope you’ll be as happy here as Bilbo was, and as I’ve been.
LOBELIA: Hm! I trust you’ve left us the furniture. We’ll have those delphiniums out right away, they look ragged. And repaint the door, blue I think, I never did care for the green. Where did you say you were moving to?
FRODO: Um…
Enter MERRY. Exit SAM with wheelbarrow.
MERRY: Crickhollow. Down in Brandybuck country. Isn’t that right, Frodo?
FRODO: Ah, yes. Crickhollow. My friend Merry is a Brandybuck, you know.
LOBELIA: Oh, I know all about the Brandybucks. I’m sure you’ll fit right in.
LOBELIA and LOTHO go through the green door into the study, where they make themselves comfortable.
FRODO: Did you hear that, Merry? I’ll fit in with Brandybucks. That’s an insult, if you like.
MERRY: A compliment. So it’s goodbye to Bag End, eh?
Enter SAM with hat and pack.
FRODO: Goodbye indeed.
MERRY: You really could come live down in Crickhollow, you know. It’s not a bad place. You’d like it.
Enter PIPPIN lugging three more packs.
FRODO: I’m afraid not. I’m…well, I don’t quite know how to begin to tell you.
PIPPIN: Then how about we tell you?
FRODO: What?
MERRY: Frodo. We know you’re leaving the Shire. We’ve known for weeks, in fact—ever since Gandalf’s not-so-secret visit.
FRODO: You knew about that?
PIPPIN: And about the Ring.
FRODO: The—what? How?
MERRY: Well, I see we’d better confess. Sam?
SAM steps forward, shamefaced.
PIPPIN: Meet our spy. Though I still maintain I’d have made a better one, after all he did get caught.
MERRY: I’ve known about Uncle Bilbo’s Ring since I was a kid. He didn’t know I knew, but I could see he got a bit funny about it over the years, so we thought we’d better keep an eye on you once you got it. When Gandalf showed up all flurried, well, we knew something was afoot.
PIPPIN: And when Sam told us you were leaving the Shire, we decided we’d better go with you.
FRODO: I don’t know what to say. You are all wonderful. And you can’t possibly come with me, I’d be putting you all in danger.
MERRY: We’ll be putting ourselves in danger, thank you very much. No arguing now. We’re all packed up and ready to go. There are four ponies waiting for us down at the bottom of the hill.
MERRY passes two packs to FRODO and PIPPIN, and puts the third on himself.
SAM: Aren’t we meant to wait for Gandalf, sir? He said he was coming back.
FRODO: He did. I can’t think why he hasn’t arrived yet, but we’d better get started just the same. With any luck he’ll meet us somewhere along the way.
MERRY: The road goes ever on and on, doesn’t it?
FRODO: It looks a little friendlier now.
Exit FRODO, SAM, MERRY and PIPPIN, through AUDIENCE.
Light change. Sound of hoofbeats and a whinny offstage, followed by the jingle of someone dismounting. BLACK RIDER enters, crosses the stage, and knocks heavily on the green door. LOBELIA opens it.
LOBELIA: What do you want?
BLACK RIDER: Baggins!
LOBELIA: Frodo? He’s not here.
BLACK RIDER: Where is Baggins?
LOBELIA: He’s moved to Crickhollow, or so he says. My son and I just purchased this place, you won’t find Frodo Baggins here.
BLACK RIDER hisses. LOBELIA shrieks and slams the door. BLACK RIDER exits, hissing, through AUDIENCE after the HOBBITS.