惊婚记 英文版 Quentin Durward
瓦尔特.司各特 Sir Walter Scott
CHAPTER XVIII: PALMISTRY
When many a many tale and many a songCheer'd the rough road, we wish'd the rough road long.The rough road, then, returning in a round,Mock'd our enchanted steps, for all was fairy ground.
SAMUEL JOHNSON
By peep of day Quentin Durward had forsaken his little cell, hadroused the sleepy grooms, and, with more than his wonted care,seen that everything was prepared for the day's journey. Girthsand bridles, the horse furniture, and the shoes of the horsesthemselves, were carefully inspected with his own eyes, that theremight be as little chance as possible of the occurrence of any ofthose casualties, which, petty as they seem, often interrupt ordisconcert travelling. The horses were also, under his own inspection,carefully fed, so as to render them fit for a long day's journey,or, if that should be necessary, for a hasty flight.
Quentin then betook himself to his own chamber, armed himself withunusual care, and belted on his sword with the feeling at once ofapproaching danger, and of stern determination to dare it to theuttermost.
These generous feelings gave him a loftiness of step, and a dignityof manner, which the Ladies of Croye had not yet observed in him,though they had been highly pleased and interested by the grace,yet naivete, of his general behaviour and conversation, and themixture of shrewd intelligence which naturally belonged to him,with the simplicity arising from his secluded education and distantcountry. He let them understand that it would be necessary thatthey should prepare for their journey this morning rather earlierthan usual, and, accordingly, they left the convent immediatelyafter a morning repast, for which, as well as the other hospitalitiesof the House, the ladies made acknowledgment by a donation to thealtar, befitting rather their rank than their appearance. But thisexcited no suspicion, as they were supposed to be Englishwomen,and the attribute of superior wealth attached at that time to theinsular character as strongly as in our own day.
The Prior blessed them as they mounted to depart, and congratulatedQuentin on the absence of his heathen guide.
"For," said the venerable man, "better stumble in the path than beupheld by the arm of a thief or robber."
The recollections which the spot brought back stirred Quentin toenter abruptly into conversation with his guide, whom hitherto hehad scarce spoken to.
"Where hast thou found night quarter, thou profane knave?" saidthe Scot.
"Your wisdom may guess, by looking on my gaberdine," answered theBohemian, pointing to his dress, which was covered with seeds ofhay.
"A good haystack," said Quentin, "is a convenient bed for anastrologer, and a much better than a heathen scoffer at our blessedreligion and its ministers, ever deserves."
"It suited my Klepper better than me, though," said Hayraddin,patting his horse on the neck, "for he had food and shelter at thesame time. The old bald fools turned him loose, as if a wise man'shorse could have infected with wit or sagacity a whole convent ofasses. Lucky that Klepper knows my whistle, and follows me as trulyas a hound, or we had never met again, and you in your turn mighthave whistled for a guide."
"I have told thee more than once," said Durward, sternly, "to restrainthy ribaldry when thou chancest to be in worthy men's company, athing, which, I believe, hath rarely happened to thee in thy lifebefore now, and I promise thee, that did I hold thee as faithlessa guide as I esteem thee a blasphemous and worthless caitiff, myScottish dirk and thy heathenish heart had ere now been acquainted,although the doing such a deed were as ignoble as the sticking ofswine."
"A wild boar is near akin to a sow," said the Bohemian, withoutflinching from the sharp look with which Quentin regarded him, oraltering, in the slightest degree, the caustic indifference whichhe affected in his language, "and many men," he subjoined, "findboth pride, pleasure, and profit, in sticking them."
Astonished at the man's ready confidence, and uncertain whether hedid not know more of his own history and feelings than was pleasantfor him to converse upon, Quentin broke off a conversation inwhich he had gained no advantage over Maugrabin, and fell back tohis accustomed post beside the ladies.
We have already observed that a considerable degree of familiarityhad begun to establish itself between them. The elder Countesstreated him (being once well assured of the nobility of his birth)like a favoured equal, and though her niece showed her regardto their protector less freely, yet, under every disadvantage ofbashfulness and timidity, Quentin thought he could plainly perceivethat his company and conversation were not by any means indifferentto her.
Nothing gives such life and soul to youthful gaiety as theconsciousness that it is successfully received, and Quentin hadaccordingly, during the former period of their journey, amused hisfair charge with the liveliness of his conversation and the songsand tales of his country, the former of which he sang in his nativelanguage, while his efforts to render the latter into his foreignand imperfect French, gave rise to a hundred little mistakes anderrors of speech, as diverting as the narratives themselves. Buton this anxious morning, he rode beside the Ladies of Croye withoutany of his usual attempts to amuse them, and they could not helpobserving his silence as something remarkable.
"Our young companion has seen a wolf," said the Lady Hameline,alluding to an ancient superstition, "and he has lost his tonguein consequence."
(Vox quoque Moerim Jam fugit ipsa; lupi Moerim videre priores.Virgilii ix. Ecloga. The commentators add, in explanation of thispassage, the opinion of Pliny: "The being beheld by a wolf in Italyis accounted noxious, and is supposed to take away the speech ofa man, if these animals behold him ere he sees them." S.)
"To say I had tracked a fox were nearer the mark," thought Quentin,but gave the reply no utterance.
"Are you well, Seignior Quentin?" said the Countess Isabelle, in atone of interest at which she herself blushed, while she felt thatit was something more than the distance between them warranted.
"He hath sat up carousing with the jolly friars," said the LadyHameline, "the Scots are like the Germans, who spend all their mirthover the Rheinwein, and bring only their staggering steps to thedance in the evening, and their aching heads to the ladies' bowerin the morning."
"Nay, gentle ladies," said Quentin, "I deserve not your reproach.The good friars were at their devotions almost all night, and formyself, my drink was barely a cup of their thinnest and most ordinarywine."
"It is the badness of his fare that has put him out of humour," saidthe Countess Isabelle. "Cheer up, Seignior Quentin, and should weever visit my ancient Castle of Bracquemont together, if I myselfshould stand your cup bearer, and hand it to you, you shall havea generous cup of wine, that the like never grew upon the vines ofHochheim or Johannisberg."
"A glass of water, noble lady, from your hand," -- Thus far didQuentin begin, but his voice trembled, and Isabelle continued, asif she had been insensible of the tenderness of the accentuationupon the personal pronoun.
"The wine was stocked in the deep vaults of Bracquemont, by my greatgrandfather the Rhinegrave Godfrey," said the Countess Isabelle.
"Who won the hand of her great grandmother," interjected the LadyHameline, interrupting her niece, "by proving himself the best sonof chivalry, at the great tournament of Strasbourg -- ten knightswere slain in the lists. But those days are now over, and no onenow thinks of encountering peril for the sake of honour, or torelieve distressed beauty."
To this speech, which was made in the tone in which a modern beauty,whose charms are rather on the wane, may be heard to condemn therudeness of the present age, Quentin took upon him to reply thatthere was no lack of that chivalry which the Lady Hameline seemedto consider as extinct, and that, were it eclipsed everywhere else,it would still glow in the bosoms of the Scottish gentlemen.
"Hear him!" said the Lady Hameline, "he would have us believe thatin his cold and bleak country still lives the noble fire whichhas decayed in France and Germany! The poor youth is like a Swissmountaineer, mad with partiality to his native land -- he will nexttell us of the vines and olives of Scotland."
"No, madam," said Durward, "of the wine and the oil of our mountainsI can say little more than that our swords can compel these richproductions as tribute from our wealthier neighbours. But for theunblemished faith and unfaded honour of Scotland, I must now putto the proof how far you can repose trust in them, however mean theindividual who can offer nothing more as a pledge of your safety."
"You speak mysteriously -- you know of some pressing and presentdanger," said the Lady Hameline.
"I have read it in his eye for this hour past!" exclaimed the LadyIsabelle, clasping her hands. "Sacred Virgin, what will become ofus?"
"Nothing, I hope, but what you would desire," answered Durward."And now I am compelled to ask -- gentle ladies, can you trust me?"
"Trust you?" answered the Countess Hameline. "Certainly. But whythe question? Or how far do you ask our confidence?"
"I, on my part," said the Countess Isabelle, "trust you implicitly,and without condition. If you can deceive us, Quentin, I will nomore look for truth, save in Heaven!"
"Gentle lady," replied Durward, highly gratified, "you do me butjustice. My object is to alter our route, by proceeding directly bythe left bank of the Maes to Liege, instead of crossing at Namur.This differs from the order assigned by King Louis and the instructionsgiven to the guide. But I heard news in the monastery of marauderson the right bank of the Maes, and of the march of Burgundiansoldiers to suppress them. Both circumstances alarm me for yoursafety. Have I your permission so far to deviate from the route ofyour journey?"
"My ample and full permission," answered the younger lady.
"Cousin," said the Lady Hameline, "I believe with you that the youthmeans us well -- but bethink you -- we transgress the instructionsof King Louis, so positively iterated."
"And why should we regard his instructions?" said the Lady Isabelle."I am, I thank Heaven for it, no subject of his, and, as a suppliant,he has abused the confidence he induced me to repose in him. Iwould not dishonour this young gentleman by weighing his word foran instant against the injunctions of yonder crafty and selfishdespot."
So saying, he spurred his horse, and rejoined the Bohemian. Thisworthy seemed of a remarkably passive, if not a forgiving temper.Injury or threat never dwelt, or at least seemed not to dwell inhis recollection, and he entered into the conversation which Durwardpresently commenced, just as if there had been no unkindly wordbetwixt them in the course of the morning.
The dog, thought the Scot, snarls not now, because he intends toclear scores with me at once and for ever, when he can snatch meby the very throat, but we will try for once whether we cannot foila traitor at his own weapons.
"Honest Hayraddin," he said, "thou hast travelled with us for tendays, yet hast never shown us a specimen of your skill in fortunetelling, which you are, nevertheless, so fond of practising thatyou must needs display your gifts in every convent at which we stop,at the risk of being repaid by a night's lodging under a haystack."
"You have never asked me for a specimen of my skill," said thegipsy. "You are, like the rest of the world, contented to ridiculethose mysteries which they do not understand."
what other termination is it possible that he could havebeen meditating? or why.
"Give me then a present proof of your skill," said Quentin and,ungloving his hand, he held it out to the gipsy.
Hayraddin carefully regarded all the lines which crossed eachother on the Scotchman's palm, and noted, with equally Scrupulousattention, the little risings or swellings at the roots of thefingers, which were then believed as intimately connected with thedisposition, habits, and fortunes of the individual, as the organsof the brain are pretended to be in our own time.
"Here is a hand," said Hayraddin, "which speaks of toils endured,and dangers encountered. I read in it an early acquaintance with thehilt of the sword, and yet some acquaintance also with the claspsof the mass book."
"This of my past life you may have learned elsewhere," said Quentin,"tell me something of the future."
"This line from the hill of Venus," said the Bohemian, "not brokenoff abruptly, but attending and accompanying the line of life,argues a certain and large fortune by marriage, whereby the partyshall be raised among the wealthy and the noble by the influenceof successful love."
"Such promises you make to all who ask your advice," said Quentin,"they are part of your art."
"What I tell you is as certain," said Hayraddin, "as that you shallin brief space be menaced with mighty danger, which I infer fromthis bright blood red line cutting the table line transversely,and intimating stroke of sword, or other violence, from which youshall only be saved by the attachment of a faithful friend."
"Thyself, ha?" said Quentin, somewhat indignant that the chiromantistshould thus practise on his credulity, and endeavour to found areputation by predicting the consequences of his own treachery.
"My art," replied the Zingaro, "tells me naught that concernsmyself."
"In this, then, the seers of my land," said Quentin, "excel yourboasted knowledge, for their skill teaches them the dangers by whichthey are themselves beset. I left not my hills without having felta portion of the double vision with which their inhabitants aregifted, and I will give thee a proof of it, in exchange for thyspecimen of palmistry. Hayraddin, the danger which threatens me lieson the right bank of the river -- I will avoid it by travelling toLiege on the left bank."
The guide listened with an apathy, which, knowing the circumstancesin which Maugrabin stood, Quentin could not by any means comprehend.
"If you accomplish your purpose," was the Bohemian's reply, "thedangerous crisis will be transferred from your lot to mine."
"I thought," said Quentin, "that you said but now, that you couldnot presage your own fortune?"
"Not in the manner in which I have but now told you yours," answeredHayraddin, "but it requires little knowledge of Louis of Valois,to presage that he will hang your guide, because your pleasure wasto deviate from the road which he recommended."
and that, were it eclipsed everywhere else,
"The attaining with safety the purpose of the journey, and ensuringits happy termination," said Quentin, "must atone for a deviationfrom the exact line of the prescribed route."
"Ay," replied the Bohemian, "if you are sure that the King had inhis own eye the same termination of the pilgrimage which he insinuatedto you."
"And of what other termination is it possible that he could havebeen meditating? or why should you suppose he had any purpose in histhought, other than was avowed in his direction?" inquired Quentin.
"Simply," replied the Zingaro, "that those who know aught of theMost Christian King, are aware that the purpose about which he ismost anxious, is always that which he is least willing to declare.Let our gracious Louis send twelve embassies, and I will forfeit myneck to the gallows a year before it is due, if in eleven of themthere is not something at the bottom of the ink horn more than thepen has written in the letters of credence."
"I regard not your foul suspicions," answered Quentin, "my duty isplain and peremptory -- to convey these ladies in safety to Liege,and I take it on me to think that I best discharge that duty inchanging our prescribed route, and keeping the left side of theriver Maes. It is likewise the direct road to Liege. By crossingthe river, we should lose time and incur fatigue to no purpose --wherefore should we do so?"
"Only because pilgrims, as they call themselves, destined for Cologne,"said Hayraddin, "do not usually descend the Maes so low as Liege,and that the route of the ladies will be accounted contradictoryof their professed destination."
"If we are challenged on that account," said Quentin, "we will saythat alarms of the wicked Duke of Gueldres, or of William de la Marck,or of the Ecorcheurs (flayers; a name given to bands of wanderingtroops on account of their cruelty) and lanzknechts, on the rightside of the river, justify our holding by the left, instead of ourintended route."
"As you will, my good seignior," replied the Bohemian. "I am, formy part, equally ready to guide you down the left as down the rightside of the Maes. Your excuse to your master you must make out foryourself."
pointing to his dress, which was covered with seeds.
Quentin, although rather surprised, was at the same time pleasedwith the ready, or at least the unrepugnant acquiescence of Hayraddinin their change of route, for he needed his assistance as a guide,and yet had feared that the disconcerting of his intended act oftreachery would have driven him to extremity. Besides, to expelthe Bohemian from their society would have been the ready mode tobring down William de la Marck, with whom he was in correspondence,upon their intended route, whereas, if Hayraddin remained with themQuentin thought he could manage to prevent the Moor from having anycommunication with strangers unless he was himself aware of it.
Abandoning, therefore, all thoughts of their original route, thelittle party followed that by the left bank of the broad Maes, sospeedily and successfully that the next day early brought them tothe proposed end of their journey. They found that the Bishop ofLiege, for the sake of his health, as he himself alleged, but rather,perhaps, to avoid being surprised by the numerous and mutinouspopulation of the city, had established his residence in hisbeautiful Castle of Schonwaldt, about a mile without Liege.
Just as they approached the Castle, they saw the Prelate returningin long procession from the neighbouring city, in which he had beenofficiating at the performance of High Mass. He was at the headof a splendid train of religious, civil and military men, mingledtogether, or, as the old ballad maker expresses it,
"With many a cross bearer before,And many a spear behind."
The procession made a noble appearance, as winding along theverdant banks of the broad Maes, it wheeled into, and was as itwere devoured by, the huge Gothic portal of the Episcopal residence.
But when the party came more near, they found that circumstancesaround the Castle argued a doubt and sense of insecurity, whichcontradicted that display of pomp and power which they had justwitnessed. Strong guards of the Bishop's soldiers were heedfullymaintained all around the mansion and its immediate vicinity, andthe prevailing appearances in an ecclesiastical residence seemedto argue a sense of danger in the reverend Prelate, who found itnecessary thus to surround himself with all the defensive precautionsof war.
The Ladies of Croye, when announced by Quentin, were reverentlyushered into the great Hall, where they met with the most cordialreception from the Bishop, who met them there at the head of hislittle Court. He would not permit them to kiss his hand, but welcomedthem with a salute, which had something in it of gallantry on thepart of a prince to fine women, and something also of the holyaffection of a pastor to the sisters of his flock.
Louis of Bourbon, the reigning Bishop of Liege, was in truth agenerous and kind hearted prince, whose life had not indeed beenalways confined, with precise strictness, within the bounds ofhis clerical profession, but who, notwithstanding, had uniformlymaintained the frank and honourable character of the House ofBourbon, from which he was descended.
In latter times, as age advanced, the Prelate had adopted habitsmore beseeming a member of the hierarchy than his early reignhad exhibited, and was loved among the neighbouring princes, as anoble ecclesiastic, generous and magnificent in his ordinary modeof life, though preserving no very ascetic severity of character,and governing with an easy indifference, which, amid his wealthyand mutinous subjects, rather encouraged than subdued rebelliouspurposes.
The Bishop was so fast an ally of the Duke of Burgundy that thelatter claimed almost a joint sovereignty in his bishopric, and repaidthe good natured ease with which the Prelate admitted claims whichhe might easily have disputed, by taking his part on all occasionswith the determined and furious zeal which was a part of his character.He used to say he considered Liege as his own, the Bishop as hisbrother (indeed, they might be accounted such, in consequence ofthe Duke's having married for his first wife, the Bishop's sister),and that he who annoyed Louis of Bourbon, had to do with Charles ofBurgundy, a threat which, considering the character and the powerof the prince who used it, would have been powerful with any butthe rich and discontented city of Liege, where much wealth had,according to the ancient proverb, made wit waver.
The Prelate, as we have said, assured the Ladies of Croye of suchintercession as his interest at the Court of Burgundy, used to theuttermost, might gain for them, and which, he hoped, might be themore effectual, as Campobasso, from some late discoveries, stoodrather lower than formerly in the Duke's personal favour. He promisedthem also such protection as it was in his power to afford, butthe sigh with which he gave the warrant seemed to allow that hispower was more precarious than in words he was willing to admit.
orders, held something betweena secular and ecclesiastical character, entertained.
"At every event, my dearest daughters," said the Bishop, with anair in which, as in his previous salute, a mixture of spiritualunction qualified the hereditary gallantry of the House of Bourbon,"Heaven forbid I should abandon the lamb to the wicked wolf, ornoble ladies to the oppression of faitours. I am a man of peace,though my abode now rings with arms, but be assured I will carefor your safety as for my own, and should matters become yet moredistracted here, which, with Our Lady's grace, we trust will berather pacified than inflamed, we will provide for your safe conductto Germany, for not even the will of our brother and protector,Charles of Burgundy, shall prevail with us to dispose of you in anyrespect contrary to your own inclinations. We cannot comply withyour request of sending you to a convent, for, alas! such is theinfluence of the sons of Belial among the inhabitants of Liege,that we know no retreat to which our authority extends, beyond thebounds of our own castle, and the protection of our soldiery. Buthere you are most welcome, and your train shall have all honourableentertainment, especially this youth whom you recommend so particularlyto our countenance, and on whom in especial we bestow our blessing."
Quentin kneeled, as in duty bound, to receive the Episcopalbenediction.
"For yourselves," proceeded the good Prelate, "you shall residehere with my sister Isabelle, a Canoness of Triers, with whom youmay dwell in all honour, even under the roof of so gay a bacheloras the Bishop of Liege."
He gallantly conducted the ladies to his sister's apartment, as heconcluded the harangue of welcome, and his Master of the Household,an officer who, having taken Deacon's orders, held something betweena secular and ecclesiastical character, entertained Quentin with thehospitality which his master enjoined, while the other personagesof the retinue of the Ladies of Croye were committed to the inferiordepartments.
In this arrangement Quentin could not help remarking thatthe presence of the Bohemian, so much objected to in the countryconvents, seemed, in the household of this wealthy, and perhaps wemight say worldly prelate, to attract neither objection nor remark.