Uploaded May 2018 | Updated September 2026, 5 days ago
Théoden: I know your face. Éowyn. Éowyn. Gandalf?
Gandalf: Breathe the free air again my friend.
Théoden: Dark have been my dreams of late. (He looks at his hands.)
Gandalf: Your fingers would remember their old strength better if they grasped your
sword.
(Háma comes up with Théoden’s sword, Théoden takes it. Grima attempts to slide away.
Gimli grabs him. Théoden looks at his sword, then to Grima who is cowering on the floor.
Grima is thrown out of the hall down the stairs. Théoden is following him.)
Grima: I’ve only ever served you my lord.
Théoden: Your witchcraft would have had me crawling on all fours like a beast.
Grima: Send me not from your sight.
(Théoden raises his sword to strike, Aragorn stops him.)
Aragorn: No, my lord. No my lord. Let him go. Enough blood has been spilt on his
account.
(Aragorn offers a hand to Grima to help him up. Grima spits into Aragorn’s palm and
gets up and runs through the crowd.)
Grima: Get out of my way!
Aragorn: Hail Théoden King!
(The Rohirrim bow to Théoden, Grima rides away from Edoras. Aragorn bows to Théoden.
Théoden turns around and looks at the people from the hall.)
Théoden: Where is Théodred? Where is my son?
(Théodred’s body is brought to the graves of past kings, carried on the shoulders of
Rohirrim. The townspeople are gathered, making a slow procession behind the body. Éowyn is
seen waiting at the open tomb with the other women. As Théodred’s body is passed through
hands into the tomb, Eowyn bursts into a heartfelt chant.)
Éowyn: Bealocwealm hafað fréone frecan forth onsended
giedd sculon singan gléomenn sorgiende
on Meduselde þæt he ma no wære
his dryhtne dyrest and mæga deorost.
Bealo…
*An evil death has set forth the noble warrior
A song shall sing sorrowing minstrels
in Meduseld that he is no more,
to his lord dearest and kinsmen most belover.
An evil death…*
(The tomb is shut, blocking out the sound of Eowyn’s chant.)
Théoden: I know your face. Éowyn. Éowyn. Gandalf?
Gandalf: Breathe the free air again my friend.
Théoden: Dark have been my dreams of late. (He looks at his hands.)
Gandalf: Your fingers would remember their old strength better if they grasped your
sword.
(Háma comes up with Théoden’s sword, Théoden takes it. Grima attempts to slide away.
Gimli grabs him. Théoden looks at his sword, then to Grima who is cowering on the floor.
Grima is thrown out of the hall down the stairs. Théoden is following him.)
Grima: I’ve only ever served you my lord.
Théoden: Your witchcraft would have had me crawling on all fours like a beast.
Grima: Send me not from your sight.
(Théoden raises his sword to strike, Aragorn stops him.)
Aragorn: No, my lord. No my lord. Let him go. Enough blood has been spilt on his
account.
(Aragorn offers a hand to Grima to help him up. Grima spits into Aragorn’s palm and
gets up and runs through the crowd.)
Grima: Get out of my way!
Aragorn: Hail Théoden King!
(The Rohirrim bow to Théoden, Grima rides away from Edoras. Aragorn bows to Théoden.
Théoden turns around and looks at the people from the hall.)
Théoden: Where is Théodred? Where is my son?
(Théodred’s body is brought to the graves of past kings, carried on the shoulders of
Rohirrim. The townspeople are gathered, making a slow procession behind the body. Éowyn is
seen waiting at the open tomb with the other women. As Théodred’s body is passed through
hands into the tomb, Eowyn bursts into a heartfelt chant.)
Éowyn: Bealocwealm hafað fréone frecan forth onsended
giedd sculon singan gléomenn sorgiende
on Meduselde þæt he ma no wære
his dryhtne dyrest and mæga deorost.
Bealo…
*An evil death has set forth the noble warrior
A song shall sing sorrowing minstrels
in Meduseld that he is no more,
to his lord dearest and kinsmen most belover.
An evil death…*
(The tomb is shut, blocking out the sound of Eowyn’s chant.)
