惊婚记 英文版 Quentin Durward
瓦尔特.司各特 Sir Walter Scott
CHAPTER XIV: THE JOURNEY Page 1
I see thee yet, fair France -- thou favour'd landOf art and nature -- thou art still before me,Thy sons, to whom their labour is a sport,So well thy grateful soil returns its tribute,Thy sunburnt daughters, with their laughing eyesAnd glossy raven locks. But, favour'd France,Thou hast had many a tale of woe to tellIn ancient times as now.
ANONYMOUS
Avoiding all conversation with any one (for such was his charge),Quentin Durward proceeded hastily to array himself in a strong butplain cuirass, with thigh and arm pieces, and placed on his heada good steel cap without any visor. To these was added a handsomecassock of chamois leather, finely dressed, and laced down the seamswith some embroidery, such as might become a superior officer ina noble household.
These were brought to his apartment by Oliver, who, with his quiet,insinuating smile and manner, acquainted him that his uncle had beensummoned to mount guard purposely that he might make no inquiriesconcerning these mysterious movements.
"Your excuse will be made to your kinsman," said Oliver, smilingagain, "and, my dearest son, when you return safe from the executionof this pleasing trust, I doubt not you will be found worthy of suchpromotion as will dispense with your accounting for your motionsto any one, while it will place you at the head of those who mustrender an account of theirs to you."
So spoke Oliver le Diable, calculating, probably, in his own mind,the great chance there was that the poor youth whose hand he squeezedaffectionately as he spoke, must necessarily encounter death orcaptivity in the commission intrusted to his charge. He added tohis fair words a small purse of gold, to defray necessary expenseson the road, as a gratuity on the King's part.
At a few minutes before twelve at midnight, Quentin, according tohis directions, proceeded to the second courtyard, and paused underthe Dauphin's Tower, which, as the reader knows, was assigned forthe temporary residence of the Countesses of Croye. He found, atthis place of rendezvous, the men and horses appointed to composethe retinue, leading two sumpter mules already loaded with baggage,and holding three palfreys for the two Countesses and a faithfulwaiting woman, with a stately war horse for himself, whose steelplated saddle glanced in the pale moonlight. Not a word of recognitionwas spoken on either side. The men sat still in their saddles asif they were motionless, and by the same imperfect light Quentinsaw with pleasure that they were all armed, and held long lancesin their hands. They were only three in number, but one of themwhispered to Quentin, in a strong Gascon accent, that their guidewas to join them beyond Tours.
Meantime, lights glanced to and fro at the lattices of the tower,as if there was bustle and preparation among its inhabitants. Atlength a small door, which led from the bottom of the tower to thecourt, was unclosed, and three females came forth attended by aman wrapped in a cloak. They mounted in silence the palfreys whichstood prepared for them, while their attendant on foot led the way,and gave the passwords and signals to the watchful guards, whoseposts they passed in succession. Thus they at length reached theexterior of these formidable barriers. Here the man on foot, who hadhitherto acted as their guide, paused, and spoke low and earnestlyto the two foremost females.
"May heaven bless you, Sire," said a voice which thrilled uponQuentin Durward's ear, "and forgive you, even if your purposes bemore interested than your words express! To be placed in safetyunder the protection of the good Bishop of Liege, is the utmostextent of my desire."
The person whom she thus addressed muttered an inaudible answer,and retreated back through the barrier gate, while Quentin thoughtthat, by the moon glimpse, he recognized in him the King himself,whose anxiety for the departure of his guests had probably inducedhim to give his presence, in case scruples should arise on theirpart, or difficulties on that of the guards of the Castle.
When the riders were beyond the Castle, it was necessary for sometime to ride with great precaution, in order to avoid the pitfalls,snares, and similar contrivances which were placed for the annoyanceof strangers. The Gascon was, however, completely possessed of theclew to this labyrinth, and in a quarter of an hour's riding theyfound themselves beyond the limits of Plessis le Parc, and not fardistant from the city of Tours.
The moon, which had now extricated herself from the clouds throughwhich she was formerly wading, shed a full sea of glorious lightupon a landscape equally glorious. They saw the princely Loirerolling his majestic tide through the richest plain in France, andsweeping along between banks ornamented with towers and terraces,and with olives and vineyards. They saw the walls of the city ofTours, the ancient capital of Touraine, raising their portal towersand embattlements white in the moonlight, while from within theircircle rose the immense Gothic mass, which the devotion of thesainted Bishop Perpetuus erected as early as the fifth century,and which the zeal of Charlemagne and his successors had enlargedwith such architectural splendour as rendered it the most magnificentchurch in France. The towers of the church of Saint Gatien (thecathedral of Tours) were also visible, and the gloomy strengthof the Castle, which was said to have been, in ancient times, theresidence of the Emperor Valentinian (a Roman emperor who strengthenedthe northern frontiers against the barbarians).
Even the circumstances in which he was placed, though of a natureso engrossing, did not prevent the wonder and delight with whichthe young Scottishman, accustomed to the waste though impressivelandscape of his own mountains, and the poverty even of his country'smost stately scenery, looked on a scene which art and nature seemedto have vied in adorning with their richest splendour. But he wasrecalled to the business of the moment by the voice of the elderlady (pitched at least an octave higher than those soft tones whichbade adieu to King Louis), demanding to speak with the leader ofthe band. Spurring his horse forward, Quentin respectfully presentedhimself to the ladies in that capacity, and thus underwent theinterrogatories of the Lady Hameline.
"What was his name, and what his degree?"
He told both.
"Was he perfectly acquainted with the road?"
"He could not," he replied, "pretend to much knowledge of the route,but he was furnished with full instructions, and he was, at theirfirst resting place, to be provided with a guide, in all respectscompetent to the task of directing their farther journey, meanwhile,a horseman, who had just joined them and made the number of theirguard four, was to be their guide for the first stage."
"And wherefore were you selected for such a duty, young gentleman?"said the lady. "I am told you are the same youth who was latelyupon guard in the gallery in which we met the Princess of France.You seem young and inexperienced for such a charge -- a stranger,too, in France, and speaking the language as a foreigner."
safety intrusted."and manner, acquainted him.
"I am bound to obey the commands of the King, madam, but am notqualified to reason on them," answered the young soldier.
"Are you of noble birth?" demanded the same querist.
"I may safely affirm so, madam," replied Quentin.
"And are you not," said the younger lady, addressing him in herturn, but with a timorous accent, "the same whom I saw when I wascalled to wait upon the King at yonder inn?"
Lowering his voice, perhaps from similar feelings of timidity,Quentin answered in the affirmative.
"Then methinks, my cousin," said the Lady Isabelle, addressingthe Lady Hameline, "we must be safe under this young gentleman'ssafeguard, he looks not, at least, like one to whom the executionof a plan of treacherous cruelty upon two helpless women could bewith safety intrusted."
"On my honour," said Durward, "by the fame of my house, by thebones of my ancestry, I could not, for France and Scotland laidinto one, be guilty of treachery or cruelty towards you!"
"You speak well, young man," said the Lady Hameline, "but we areaccustomed to hear fair speeches from the King of France and hisagents. It was by these that we were induced, when the protectionof the Bishop of Liege might have been attained with less risk thannow, or when we might have thrown ourselves on that of Winceslausof Germany, or of Edward of England, to seek refuge in France.And in what did the promises of the King result? In an obscureand shameful concealing of us, under plebeian names, as a sort ofprohibited wares in yonder paltry hostelry, when we -- who, as thouknowest, Marthon" (addressing her domestic), "never put on our headtire save under a canopy, and upon a dais of three degrees -- werecompelled to attire ourselves, standing on the simple floor, as ifwe had been two milkmaids."
Marthon admitted that her lady spoke a most melancholy truth.
"I would that had been the sorest evil, dear kinswoman," said theLady Isabelle, "I could gladly have dispensed with state."
"But not with society," said the elder Countess, "that, my sweetcousin, was impossible."
"I would have dispensed with all, my dearest kinswoman," answeredIsabelle, in a voice which penetrated to the very heart of heryoung conductor and guard, "with all, for a safe and honourableretirement. I wish not -- God knows, I never wished -- to occasionwar betwixt France and my native Burgundy, or that lives shouldbe lost for such as I am. I only implored permission to retire tothe Convent of Marmoutier, or to any other holy sanctuary."
"You spoke then like a fool, my cousin," answered the elder lady,"and not like a daughter of my noble brother. It is well thereis still one alive who hath some of the spirit of the noble Houseof Croye. How should a high born lady be known from a sunburntmilkmaid, save that spears are broken for the one, and only hazelpoles shattered for the other? I tell you, maiden, that while Iwas in the very earliest bloom, scarcely older than yourself, thefamous Passage of Arms at Haflinghem was held in my honour, thechallengers were four, the assailants so many as twelve. It lastedthree days, and cost the lives of two adventurous knights, thefracture of one backbone, one collarbone, three legs, and two arms,besides flesh wounds and bruises beyond the heralds' counting, andthus have the ladies of our House ever been honoured. Ah! had youbut half the heart of your noble ancestry, you would find means atsome court where ladies' love and fame in arms are still prized,to maintain a tournament at which your hand should be the prize, aswas that of your great grandmother of blessed memory, at the spearrunning of Strasbourg, and thus should you gain the best lance inEurope, to maintain the rights of the House of Croye, both againstthe oppression of Burgundy and the policy of France."
"But, fair kinswoman," answered the younger Countess, "I havebeen told by my old nurse, that although the Rhinegrave (formerlya Rhenish prince) was the best lance at the great tournament atStrasbourg, and so won the hand of my respected ancestor, yet thematch was no happy one, as he used often to scold, and sometimeseven to beat, my great grandmother of blessed memory."
"And wherefore not?" said the elder Countess, in her romantic enthusiasmfor the profession of chivalry, "why should those victorious arms,accustomed to deal blows when abroad, be bound to restrain theirenergies at home? A thousand times rather would I be beaten twicea day by a husband whose arm was as much feared by others as byme, than be the wife of a coward, who dared neither to lift handto his wife, nor to any one else!"
"I should wish you joy of such an active mate, fair aunt," repliedIsabelle, "without envying you, for if broken bones be lovely intourneys, there is nothing less amiable in ladies' bower."
"Nay, but the beating is no necessary consequence of wedding witha knight of fame in arms," said the Lady Hameline, "though it istrue that your ancestor of blessed memory, the Rhinegrave Gottfried,was something rough tempered, and addicted to the use of Rheinwein.
"The very perfect knight is a lamb among ladies, and a lion amonglances. There was Thibault of Montigni -- God be with him! -- he wasthe kindest soul alive, and not only was he never so discourteousas to lift hand against his lady, but, by our good dame, he whobeat all enemies without doors, found a fair foe who could belabourhim within. -- Well, 't was his own fault -- he was one of thechallengers at the Passage of Haflinghem, and so well bestirredhimself, that, if it had pleased Heaven, and your grandfather, theremight have been a lady of Montigni who had used his gentle naturemore gently."
The Countess Isabelle, who had some reason to dread this Passage ofHaflinghem, it being a topic upon which her aunt was at all timesvery diffuse, suffered the conversation to drop, and Quentin, withthe natural politeness of one who had been gently nurtured dreadinglest his presence might be a restraint on their conversation, rodeforward to join the guide, as if to ask him some questions concerningtheir route.
Meanwhile the ladies continued their journey in silence, or in suchconversation as is not worth narrating, until day began to break,and as they had then been on horseback for several hours, Quentin,anxious lest they should be fatigued, became impatient to knowtheir distance from the nearest resting place.
"I will show it you," answered the guide, "in half an hour."
"Even so, Seignior Archer," replied the man, "my journeys arealways short and straight. When you and others, Seignior Archer,go by the bow, I always go by the cord."
The moon had by this time long been down, and the lights of dawnwere beginning to spread bright and strong in the east, and to gleamon the bosom of a small lake, on the verge of which they had beenriding for a short space of time. This lake lay in the midst of awide plain, scattered over with single trees, groves and thickets,but which might be yet termed open, so that objects began to bediscerned with sufficient accuracy. Quentin cast his eye on theperson whom he rode beside, and under the shadow of a slouchedoverspreading hat, which resembled the sombrero of a Spanish peasant,he recognised the facetious features of the same Petit Andre whosefingers, not long since, had, in concert with those of his lugubriousbrother, Trois Eschelles, been so unpleasantly active about histhroat. -- Impelled by aversion, not altogether unmixed with fear(for in his own country the executioner is regarded with almostsuperstitious horror), which his late narrow escape had notdiminished, Durward instinctively moved his horse's head to theright, and pressing him at the same time with the spur, made ademi-volte, which separated him eight feet from his hateful companion.
"Ho, ho, ho, ho!" exclaimed Petit Andre, "by Our Lady of the Grave,our young soldier remembers us of old. What! comrade, you bear nomalice, I trust? -- every one wins his bread in this country. Noman need be ashamed of having come through my hands, for I will domy work with any that ever tied a living weight to a dead tree. --And God hath given me grace to be such a merry fellow withal. --Ha! ha! ha! -- I could tell you such jests I have cracked betweenthe foot of a ladder and the top of the gallows, that, by myhalidome, I have been obliged to do my job rather hastily, for fearthe fellows should die with laughing, and so shame my mystery!"
As he thus spoke he edged his horse sideways to regain the intervalwhich the Scot had left between them, saying, at the same time,"Come, Seignior Archer, let there be no unkindness betwixt us! --For my part, I always do my duty without malice, and with a lightheart, and I never love a man better than when I have put my scantof wind collar about his neck, to dub him Knight of the order ofSaint Patibularius (patibulum, a gibbet), as the Provost's Chaplain,the worthy Father Vaconeldiablo (possibly Baco (Bacchus) el Diablo(the Devil)), is wont to call the Patron Saint of the Provostry."
"Keep back, thou wretched object!" exclaimed Quentin, as the finisherof the law again sought to approach him closer, "or I shall betempted to teach you the distance that should be betwixt men ofhonour and such an outcast."
"La you there, how hot you are!" said the fellow, "had you saidmen of honesty, there had been some savour of truth in it, but formen of honour, good lack, I have to deal with them every day, asnearly and closely as I was about to do business with you. -- Butpeace be with you, and keep your company to yourself. I would havebestowed a flagon of Auvernat upon you to wash away every unkindness-- -- but 't is like you scorn my courtesy. -- Well. Be as churlishas you list -- I never quarrel with my customers -- my jerry cometumbles, my merry dancers, my little playfellows, as Jacques Butchersays to his lambs -- those in fine, who, like your seigniorship,have H. E. M. P. written on their foreheads. -- No, no, let themuse me as they list, they shall have my good service at last -- andyourself shall see, when you next come under Petit Andre's hands,that he knows how to forgive an injury."
So saying, and summing up the whole with a provoking wink, and suchan interjectional tchick as men quicken a dull horse with, PetitAndre drew off to the other side of the path, and left the youthto digest the taunts he had treated him with, as his proud Scottishstomach best might. A strong desire had Quentin to have belabouredhim while the staff of his lance could hold together, but he puta restraint on his passion, recollecting that a brawl with sucha character could be creditable at no time or place, and that aquarrel of any kind, on the present occasion, would be a breach ofduty, and might involve the most perilous consequences. He thereforeswallowed his wrath at the ill timed and professional jokes of Mons.Petit Andre, and contented himself with devoutly hoping that theyhad not reached the ears of his fair charge, on which they couldnot be supposed to make an impression in favour of himself, as oneobnoxious to such sarcasms. But he was speedily roused from suchthoughts by the cry of both the ladies at once, to "Look back --look back! -- For the love of Heaven look yourself, and us -- weare pursued!"
Quentin hastily looked back, and saw that two armed men were infact following them, and riding at such a pace as must soon bringthem up with their party. "It can," he said, "be only some of theProvostry making their rounds in the forest. -- Do thou look," hesaid to Petit Andre, "and see what they may be."
Petit Andre obeyed, and rolling himself jocosely in the saddleafter he had made his observations, replied, "These, fair sir, areneither your comrades nor mine -- neither Archers nor Marshals men-- for I think they wear helmets, with visors lowered, and gorgetsof the same. -- A plague upon these gorgets of all other piecesof armour! -- I have fumbled with them an hour before I could undothe rivets."