I will not say the Day is done - english version

The creature

The room was small and poorly lit. It had only one window, which was blocked by a shutter and which let in a few late morning rays. When he entered, Samwise had expected to find several Hobbits posted around the prisoner, but there was only one and somewhat idle guard who did not seem to pay much attention to the cell in front of which he was sitting lazily.

Olo Bunce, the Shiriff of Hobbiton, closed the door behind Sam.

'We found him this morning near Bywater', he told Sam. 'We think he's an orc or something. But he's not like the ones we usually come across around here. Otherwise our archers would have taken care of him.'

'And you need me for?' asked the Hobbit as he approached with measured steps the bars behind which a shape was cowering.

'To tell us what it is, for a start. And then to advise us what to do with it, if you will.'

Ever since he had returned from his adventure and cleaned up the Shire from Saruman and his henchmen, Samwise Gamgee was constantly called for by the townsfolk for business that had to do with the "big world," as they put it. Sam was quite tired of it. He would have preferred that Merry or Pippin had taken care of such matters: they had seen great battles, and they had been the ones who had got rid of the invaders when they had returned. But they lived far away, had their own responsibilities, and it would have been unfair to ask them for more.

Besides, Sam was the master of Bag End now. It was an honour he had first stubbornly refused. When he had finally agreed to move there, he had taken no joy or pride in it. He lived at Bag End out of duty, to manage the affairs of the Bagginses. This responsibility was a burden he had taken on, and was still taking on every day, since he had returned from Mordor without the real master of the place, Frodo Baggins.
The wound was still there, gaping, three years after he had walked through Shelob's lair. Three years after he had seen his master fall and be taken away by the orcs. Three years after the frantic race that had led him to the top of Frodo's desperately empty tower. He didn't want to think about it now.

Samwise looked at the creature that was crammed into the small, dimly lit cell. It had long, dirty hair that fell to his shoulders in a curtain of dark strands and wore torn and disgusting rags. From where he was, Sam could make out a thin, white-skinned form, a creature that reeked of disease.

'Did he say anything?' he asked the Hobbit guarding the cell.

'Nothing intelligible, no. One of the guys thinks it's a beast like that Gollum Mr. Bilbo used to talk about. But it can't be, can it?'

Sam shuddered at that name. It was impossible. He had seen Gollum die with his very eyes: he had taken the Ring, just as Sam was about to cast it into the Crack of Doom. A miserable death it was, no more than he deserved after leading Sam and his master into the deadly tunnel. The traitor had seized his precious and immediately slipped and fallen into the flames.

'It can't be him. And as far as I know, there's no other like him.'

'Then what is it?'

'To answer that, I'd have to get closer. Has he been aggressive to you?'

'No, not really. He was half unconscious when we found him. And when we brought him in, he put up a bit of a struggle, but we subdued him easily.'

Sam considered what the guard had just told him. This poor creature deserved their pity, not their distrust.

'Try and feed him,' he said. 'I'm going to get the healer and some plants that can help him get back on his feet. If he's not threatening, we just need to help him recover and get him out of the Shire.'