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The hours crept anxiously by: another evening came.
I did not retire to rest till late, and when I did,
I could not sleep. He returned after midnight, and,
instead of going to bed, shut himself into the room
beneath. I listened, and tossed about, and, finally,
dressed and descended. It was too irksome to lie there,
harassing my brain with a hundred idle misgivings.
I distinguished Master Sauron’s step, restlessly measuring
the floor, and he frequently broke the silence by a
deep inspiration, resembling a groan. He muttered detached
words also; the only one I could catch was the name
of “Azh Nazg”, coupled with some wild term of endearment
or suffering; and spoken as one would speak to a person
present; low and earnest, and wrung from the depth of
his soul. I had not courage to walk straight into the
room; but I desired to divert him from his reverie,
and therefore fell foul of the forge fire, stirred it,
and began to scrape the cinders. It drew him forth sooner
than I expected. He opened the door immediately, and
said - “Mouth, come here - is it morning? Come in with
your torch.”
He roamed to and fro, meantime, in a state approaching
distraction; his heavy sighs succeeding each other so
thick as to leave no space for common breathing between.
“When day breaks I’ll send for the Nazgul,” he said;
“I wish to make some inquiries of them while I can bestow
a thought on such matters, and while I can act calmly.
I have not yet determined how I wish to leave Arda,
if it should be forced upon me. I wish I could annihilate
it from the depths of the Void!”
“I would not talk so, Master Sauron,” I interposed.
“Let the Nazgul be a while: you’ll be spared to repent
of your many injustices yet! I never expected that your
nerves would be disordered: they are, at present, marvelously
so, however; and almost entirely through your own fault.
The way you’ve passed these three last days might knock
up a Valar. Do take some food, and some repose. You
need only look at yourself in a glass to see how you
require both. Your cheeks are hollow, and your eyes
blood-shot, like a person starving with hunger and going
blind with loss of sleep.”
“It is not my fault that I cannot eat or rest,” he replied.
“I assure you it is through no settled designs. I’ll
do both, as soon as I possibly can. But you might as
well bid a hobbit drowning in the water rest within
ankle’s depth of the surface! I must reach it first,
and then I’ll rest. Well, never mind the Nazgul: as
to repenting of my injustices, I’ve done no injustice,
and I repent of nothing. I’m too happy; and yet I’m
not happy enough. My soul’s bliss kills my body, but
does not satisfy itself.”
“Happy, master?” I cried. “Strange happiness! If you
would hear me without being angry, I might offer some
advice that would make you happier.”
“What is that?” he asked. “Give it.”
“You are aware, Master Sauron,” I said, “that from the
time you were barely an Age old you have lived a selfish,
discordant life; and probably hardly beheld the Light
during all that period. You must have forgotten its
beauty, and you may not have space to search for it
now. Will you not turn your eye to such matters, before
it is too late? Could it be hurtful to send for some
one - some Istari of any color, it does not matter which
- to explain it, and show you how very far you have
erred from those precepts; and how unfit you will be
for the Void, unless a change takes place before you
die?”
“I’m rather obliged than angry, Mouth,” he said ruefully,
“for you remind me of the form I wish for my return.”