惊婚记 英文版 Quentin Durward
瓦尔特.司各特 Sir Walter Scott
CHAPTER II: THE WANDERER
But besides that, I have been in a convent,where the?
Why then the world's mine oyster, which I with sword will open.
ANCIENT PISTOL
It was upon a delicious summer morning, before the sun had assumedits scorching power, and while the dews yet cooled and perfumedthe air, that a youth, coming from the northeastward approached theford of a small river, or rather a large brook, tributary to theCher, near to the royal Castle of Plessis les Tours, whose dark andmultiplied battlements rose in the background over the extensiveforest with which they were surrounded. These woodlands comprised anoble chase, or royal park, fenced by an enclosure, termed, in theLatin of the middle ages, Plexitium, which gives the name of Plessisto so many villages in France. The castle and village of which weparticularly speak, was called Plessis les Tours, to distinguishit from others, and was built about two miles to the southward ofthe fair town of that name, the capital of ancient Touraine, whoserich plain has been termed the Garden of France.
On the bank of the above mentioned brook, opposite to that whichthe traveller was approaching, two men, who appeared in deepconversation, seemed, from time to time, to watch his motions; for,as their station was much more elevated, they could remark him atconsiderable distance.
The age of the young traveller might be about nineteen, orbetwixt that and twenty; and his face and person, which were veryprepossessing, did not, however, belong to the country in which hewas now a sojourner. His short gray cloak and hose were rather ofFlemish than of French fashion, while the smart blue bonnet, with asingle sprig of holly and an eagle's feather, was already recognizedas the Scottish head gear. His dress was very neat, and arranged withthe precision of a youth conscious of possessing a fine person. Hehad at his back a satchel, which seemed to contain a few necessaries,a hawking gauntlet on his left hand, though he carried no bird, andin his right a stout hunter's pole. Over his left shoulder hung anembroidered scarf which sustained a small pouch of scarlet velvet,such as was then used by fowlers of distinction to carry their hawks'food, and other matters belonging to that much admired sport. Thiswas crossed by another shoulder belt, to which was hung a huntingknife, or couteau de chasse. Instead of the boots of the period,he wore buskins of half dressed deer's skin.
Although his form had not yet attained its full strength, he was talland active, and the lightness of the step with which he advanced,showed that his pedestrian mode of travelling was pleasure ratherthan pain to him. His complexion was fair, in spite of a generalshade of darker hue, with which the foreign sun, or perhaps constantexposure to the atmosphere in his own country, had, in some degree,embrowned it.
His features, without being quite regular, were frank, open, andpleasing. A half smile, which seemed to arise from a happy exuberanceof animal spirits, showed now and then that his teeth were wellset, and as pure as ivory; whilst his bright blue eye, with acorresponding gaiety, had an appropriate glance for every objectwhich it encountered, expressing good humour, lightness of heart,and determined resolution.
He received and returned the salutation of the few travellers whofrequented the road in those dangerous times with the action whichsuited each. The strolling spearman, half soldier, half brigand,measured the youth with his eye, as if balancing the prospectof booty with the chance of desperate resistance; and read suchindications of the latter in the fearless glance of the passenger,that he changed his ruffian purpose for a surly "Good morrow,comrade," which the young Scot answered with as martial, thougha less sullen tone. The wandering pilgrim, or the begging friar,answered his reverent greeting with a paternal benedicite (equivalentto the English expression, "Bless you."); and the dark eyed peasantgirl looked after him for many a step after they had passed eachother, and interchanged a laughing good morrow. In short, therewas an attraction about his whole appearance not easily escapingattention, and which was derived from the combination of fearlessfrankness and good humour, with sprightly looks and a handsome faceand person. It seemed, too, as if his whole demeanour bespoke onewho was entering on life with no apprehension of the evils withwhich it is beset, and small means for struggling with its hardships,except a lively spirit and a courageous disposition; and it iswith such tempers that youth most readily sympathizes, and for whomchiefly age and experience feel affectionate and pitying interest.
The youth whom we have described had been long visible to the twopersons who loitered on the opposite side of the small river whichdivided him from the park and the castle; but as he descended therugged bank to the water's edge, with the light step of a roe whichvisits the fountain, the younger of the two said to the other,"It is our man -- it is the Bohemian! If he attempts to cross theford, he is a lost man -- the water is up, and the ford impassable."
"Let him make that discovery himself, gossip (an intimate friendor companion (obsolete))," said the elder personage; "it may,perchance, save a rope and break a proverb (refers to the old saw,'Who is born to be hanged will never be drowned.')."
"I judge him by the blue cap," said the other, "for I cannot seehis face. Hark, sir; he hallooes to know whether the water be deep."
"Nothing like experience in this world," answered the other, "lethim try."
The young man, in the meanwhile, receiving no hint to the contrary,and taking the silence of those to whom he applied as an encouragementto proceed, entered the stream without farther hesitation than thedelay necessary to take off his buskins. The elder person, at thesame moment, hallooed to him to beware, adding, in a lower tone,to his companion, "Mortdieu -- gossip -- you have made anothermistake -- this is not the Bohemian chatterer."
But the intimation to the youth came too late. He either did nothear or could not profit by it, being already in the deep stream.To one less alert and practised in the exercise of swimming, deathhad been certain, for the brook was both deep and strong.
"By Saint Anne! but he is a proper youth," said the elder man."Run, gossip, and help your blunder, by giving him aid, if thoucanst. He belongs to thine own troop -- if old saws speak truth,water will not drown him."
Indeed, the young traveller swam so strongly, and buffeted thewaves so well, that, notwithstanding the strength of the current,he was carried but a little way down from the ordinary landingplace.
By this time the younger of the two strangers was hurrying downto the shore to render assistance, while the other followed him ata graver pace, saying to himself as he approached, "I knew waterwould never drown that young fellow. -- By my halidome (originallysomething regarded as sacred, as a relic; formerly much usedin solemn oaths), he is ashore, and grasps his pole! -- If I makenot the more haste, he will beat my gossip for the only charitableaction which I ever saw him perform, or attempt to perform, in thewhole course of his life."
There was some reason to augur such a conclusion of the adventure,for the bonny Scot had already accosted the younger Samaritan,who was hastening to his assistance, with these ireful words:"Discourteous dog! why did you not answer when I called to knowif the passage was fit to be attempted? May the foul fiend catchme, but I will teach you the respect due to strangers on the nextoccasion."
This was accompanied with that significant flourish with his polewhich is called le moulinet, because the artist, holding it inthe middle, brandishes the two ends in every direction like thesails of a windmill in motion. His opponent, seeing himself thusmenaced, laid hand upon his sword, for he was one of those who onall occasions are more ready for action than for speech; but hismore considerate comrade, who came up, commanded him to forbear,and, turning to the young man, accused him in turn of precipitationin plunging into the swollen ford, and of intemperate violence inquarrelling with a man who was hastening to his assistance.
The young man, on hearing himself thus reproved by a man of advancedage and respectable appearance, immediately lowered his weapon,and said he would be sorry if he had done them injustice; but, inreality, it appeared to him as if they had suffered him to put hislife in peril for want of a word of timely warning, which could bethe part neither of honest men nor of good Christians, far less ofrespectable burgesses, such as they seemed to be.
"Fair son," said the elder person, "you seem, from your accent andcomplexion, a stranger; and you should recollect your dialect isnot so easily comprehended by us; as perhaps it may be uttered byyou."
"Well, father," answered the youth, "I do not care much about theducking I have had, and I will readily forgive your being partlythe cause, provided you will direct me to some place where I canhave my clothes dried; for it is my only suit, and I must keep itsomewhat decent."
"For whom do you take us, fair son?" said the elder stranger, inanswer to this question.
"You have hit our capacities rarely," said the elder, smiling."My business is indeed to trade in as much money as I can and mygossip's dealings are somewhat of kin to the butcher's. As to youraccommodation we will try to serve you; but I must first know whoyou are, and whither you are going, for, in these times, the roadsare filled with travellers on foot and horseback, who have anythingin their head but honesty and the fear of God."
The young man cast another keen and penetrating glance on him whospoke, and on his silent companion, as if doubtful whether they,on their part, merited the confidence they demanded; and the resultof his observation was as follows.
The eldest and most remarkable of these men in dress and appearance,resembled the merchant or shopkeeper of the period. His jerkin,hose, and cloak were of a dark uniform colour, but worn so threadbarethat the acute young Scot conceived that the wearer must be eithervery rich or very poor, probably the former. The fashion of thedress was close and short, a kind of garment which was not thenheld decorous among gentry, or even the superior class of citizens,who generally wore loose gowns which descended below the middle ofthe leg.
The expression of this man's countenance was partly attractive andpartly forbidding. His strong features, sunk cheeks, and holloweyes had, nevertheless, an expression of shrewdness and humourcongenial to the character of the young adventurer. But then, thosesame sunken eyes, from under the shroud of thick black eyebrows,had something in them that was at once commanding and sinister.Perhaps this effect was increased by the low fur cap, much depressedon the forehead, and adding to the shade from under which thoseeyes peered out; but it is certain that the young stranger hadsome difficulty to reconcile his looks with the meanness of hisappearance in other respects. His cap, in particular, in which allmen of any quality displayed either a brooch of gold or of silver,was ornamented with a paltry image of the Virgin, in lead, such asthe poorer sort of pilgrims bring from Loretto (a city in Italy,containing the sanctuary of the Virgin Mary called the Santa Casa,reputed to have been brought there by angels.).
His comrade was a stout formed, middle sized man, more than tenyears younger than his companion, with a down looking visage anda very ominous smile, when by chance he gave way to that impulse,which was never, except in reply to certain secret signs that seemedto pass between him and the elder stranger. This man was armed witha sword and dagger; and underneath his plain habit the Scotsmanobserved that he concealed a jazeran, or flexible shirt of linkedmail, which, as being often worn by those, even of peacefulprofessions, who were called upon at that perilous period to befrequently abroad, confirmed the young man in his conjecture thatthe wearer was by profession a butcher, grazier, or something ofthat description, called upon to be much abroad. The young stranger,comprehending in one glance the result of the observation which hastaken us some time to express, answered, after a moment's pause,"I am ignorant whom I may have the honour to address," making aslight reverence at the same time, "but I am indifferent who knowsthat I am a cadet of Scotland; and that I come to seek my fortunein France, or elsewhere, after the custom of my countrymen."
"Pasques dieu! and a gallant custom it is," said the elder stranger."You seem a fine young springald, and at the right age to prosper,whether among men or women. What say you? I am a merchant, andwant a lad to assist in my traffic; I suppose you are too much agentleman to assist in such mechanical drudgery ?"
"Fair sir," said the youth, "if your offer be seriously made --of which I have my doubts -- I am bound to thank you for it, andI thank you accordingly; but I fear I should be altogether unfitfor your service."
"What!" said the senior, "I warrant thou knowest better how todraw the bow, than how to draw a bill of charges -- canst handlea broadsword better than a pen -- ha!"
"I am, master," answered the young Scot, "a braeman, and therefore,as we say, a bowman. But besides that, I have been in a convent,where the good fathers taught me to read and write, and even tocipher."
"Pasques dieu! that is too magnificent," said the merchant. "By ourLady of Embrun (a town in France containing a cathedral in whichwas a wooden statue of the Virgin Mary, said to have been sculpturedby St. Luke), thou art a prodigy, man!"
"Rest you merry, fair master," said the youth, who was not muchpleased with his new acquaintance's jocularity, "I must go drymyself, instead of standing dripping here, answering questions."
The merchant only laughed louder as he spoke, and answered, "Pasquesdieu! the proverb never fails -- fier comme un Ecossois (proudor haughty as a Scotchman) -- but come, youngster, you are of acountry I have a regard for, having traded in Scotland in my time-- an honest poor set of folks they are; and, if you will come withus to the village, I will bestow on you a cup of burnt sack anda warm breakfast, to atone for your drenching. -- But tete bleau!what do you with a hunting glove on your hand? Know you not thereis no hawking permitted in a royal chase?"
"I was taught that lesson," answered the youth, "by a rascallyforester of the Duke of Burgundy. I did but fly the falcon I hadbrought with me from Scotland, and that I reckoned on for bringingme into some note, at a heron near Peronne, and the rascally schelm(rogue, rascal (obsolete or Scotch)) shot my bird with an arrow."
"What did you do?" said the merchant.
"Beat him," said the youngster, brandishing his staff, "as nearto death as one Christian man should belabour another -- I wantednot to have his blood to answer for."
"Know you," said the burgess, "that had you fallen into the Dukeof Burgundy's hands, he would have hung you up like a chestnut?"
"Ay, I am told he is as prompt as the King of France for that sortof work. But, as this happened near Peronne, I made a leap overthe frontiers, and laughed at him. If he had not been so hasty, Imight, perhaps, have taken service with him."
"He will have a heavy miss of such a paladin as you are, if thetruce should break off," said the merchant, and threw a look at hisown companion, who answered him with one of the downcast loweringsmiles which gleamed along his countenance, enlivening it as apassing meteor enlivens a winter sky.
The young Scot suddenly stopped, pulled his bonnet over his righteyebrow, as one that would not be ridiculed, and said firmly, "Mymasters, and especially you, sir, the elder, and who should be thewiser, you will find, I presume, no sound or safe jesting at myexpense. I do not altogether like the tone of your conversation.I can take a jest with any man, and a rebuke, too, from my elder,and say thank you, sir, if I know it to be deserved; but I do notlike being borne in hand as if I were a child, when, God wot, Ifind myself man enough to belabour you both, if you provoke me toofar."
The eldest man seemed like to choke with laughter at the lad'sdemeanour -- his companion's hand stole to his sword hilt, whichthe youth observing, dealt him a blow across the wrist, which madehim incapable of grasping it, while his companion's mirth was onlyincreased by the incident.
"Hold, hold," he cried, "most doughty Scot, even for thine owndear country's sake, and you, gossip, forbear your menacing look.Pasques-dieu! let us be just traders, and set off the wettingagainst the knock on the wrist, which was given with so much graceand alacrity. -- And hark ye, my young friend," he said to theyoung man, with a grave sternness which, in spite of all the youthcould do, damped and overawed him, "no more violence. I am no fitobject for it, and my gossip, as you may see, has had enough ofit. Let me know your name."
"I can answer a civil question civilly," said the youth; "and willpay fitting respect to your age, if you do not urge my patiencewith mockery. Since I have been here in France and Flanders, menhave called me, in their fantasy, the Varlet with the Velvet Pouch,because of this hawk purse which I carry by my side; but my truename, when at home, is Quentin Durward."
"Durward!" said the querist; "is it a gentleman's name?"
"By fifteen descents in our family," said the young man; "and thatmakes me reluctant to follow any other trade than arms."
"A true Scot! Plenty of blood, plenty of pride, and right greatscarcity of ducats, I warrant thee. -- Well, gossip," he said tohis companion, "go before us, and tell them to have some breakfastready yonder at the Mulberry grove; for this youth will do as muchhonour to it as a starved mouse to a housewife's cheese. And forthe Bohemian -- hark in thy ear."
His comrade answered by a gloomy but intelligent smile, and setforward at a round pace, while the elder man continued, addressingyoung Durward, "You and I will walk leisurely forward together,and we may take a mass at Saint Hubert's Chapel in our way throughthe forest; for it is not good to think of our fleshly before ourspiritual wants."
(This silvan saint . . . was passionately fond of the chase, andused to neglect attendance on divine worship for this amusement.While he was once engaged in this pastime, a stag appeared beforehim, having a crucifix bound betwixt his horns, and he heard a voicewhich menaced him with eternal punishment if he did not repent ofhis sins. He retired from the world and took orders. . . Hubertafterwards became Bishop of Maestrecht and Liege. S.)
Durward, as a good Catholic, had nothing to object against thisproposal, although he might probably have been desirous, in the firstplace; to have dried his clothes and refreshed himself. Meanwhile,they soon lost sight of their downward looking companion, butcontinued to follow the same path which he had taken, until it ledthem into a wood of tall trees, mixed with thickets and brushwood,traversed by long avenues, through which were seen, as through avista, the deer trotting in little herds with a degree of securitywhich argued their consciousness of being completely protected.
"You asked me if I were a good bowman," said the young Scot. "Giveme a bow and a brace of shafts, and you shall have a piece ofvenison in a moment."
"Pasques dieu! my young friend," said his companion, "take careof that; my gossip yonder hath a special eye to the deer; they areunder his charge, and he is a strict keeper."
"He hath more the air of a butcher than of a gay forester," answeredDurward. "I cannot think yon hang dog look of his belongs to anyone who knows the gentle rules of woodcraft."
"Ah, my young friend," answered his companion, "my gossip hathsomewhat an ugly favour to look upon at the first; but those whobecome acquainted with him never are known to complain of him."
Quentin Durward found something singularly and disagreeablysignificant in the tone with which this was spoken; and, lookingsuddenly at the speaker, thought he saw in his countenance, inthe slight smile that curled his upper lip, and the accompanyingtwinkle of his keen dark eye, something to justify his unpleasingsurprise. "I have heard of robbers," he thought to himself, "and ofwily cheats and cutthroats -- what if yonder fellow be a murderer,and this old rascal his decoy duck! I will be on my guard -- theywill get little by me but good Scottish knocks."
While he was thus reflecting, they came to a glade, where the largeforest trees were more widely separated from each other, and wherethe ground beneath, cleared of underwood and bushes, was clothedwith a carpet of the softest and most lovely verdure, which, screenedfrom the scorching heat of the sun, was here more beautifullytender than it is usually to be seen in France. The trees in thissecluded spot were chiefly beeches and elms of huge magnitude,which rose like great hills of leaves into the air. Amidst thesemagnificent sons of the earth there peeped out, in the most openspot of the glade, a lowly chapel, near which trickled a smallrivulet. Its architecture was of the rudest and most simple kind;and there was a very small lodge beside it, for the accommodationof a hermit or solitary priest, who remained there for regularlydischarging the duty of the altar. In a small niche over the archeddoorway stood a stone image of Saint Hubert, with the bugle hornaround his neck, and a leash of greyhounds at his feet. The situationof the chapel in the midst of a park or chase, so richly stockedwith game, made the dedication to the Sainted Huntsman peculiarlyappropriate.
Towards this little devotional structure the old man directed hissteps, followed by young Durward; and, as they approached, thepriest, dressed in his sacerdotal garments, made his appearance inthe act of proceeding from his cell to the chapel, for the discharge,doubtless, of his holy office. Durward bowed his body reverentlyto the priest, as the respect due to his sacred office demanded;whilst his companion, with an appearance of still more deep devotion,kneeled on one knee to receive the holy man's blessing, and thenfollowed him into church, with a step and manner expressive of themost heartfelt contrition and humility.
The inside of the chapel was adorned in a manner adapted to theoccupation of the patron saint while on earth. The richest fursof such animals as are made the objects of the chase in differentcountries supplied the place of tapestry and hangings around thealtar and elsewhere, and the characteristic emblazonments of bugles,bows, quivers, and other emblems of hunting, surrounded the walls,and were mingled with the heads of deer, wolves, and other animalsconsidered beasts of sport. The whole adornments took an appropriateand silvan character; and the mass itself, being considerablyshortened, proved to be of that sort which is called a hunting mass,because in use before the noble and powerful, who, while assistingat the solemnity, are usually impatient to commence their favouritesport.
Yet, during this brief ceremony, Durward's companion seemed to paythe most rigid and scrupulous attention; while Durward, not quiteso much occupied with religious thoughts, could not forbear blaminghimself in his own mind for having entertained suspicions derogatoryto the character of so good and so humble a man. Far from nowholding him as a companion and accomplice of robbers, he had muchto do to forbear regarding him as a saint-like personage.
When mass was ended, they retired together from the chapel, and theelder said to his young comrade, "It is but a short walk from henceto the village -- you may now break your fast with an unprejudicedconscience -- follow me."
Turning to the right, and proceeding along a path which seemedgradually to ascend, he recommended to his companion by no meansto quit the track, but, on the contrary, to keep the middle of itas nearly as he could. Durward could not help asking the cause ofthis precaution.
"You are now near the Court, young man," answered his guide; "and,Pasques-dieu! there is some difference betwixt walking in thisregion and on your own heathy hills. Every yard of this ground,excepting the path which we now occupy, is rendered dangerous, andwell nigh impracticable, by snares and traps, armed with scytheblades, which shred off the unwary passenger's limb as sheerlyas a hedge bill lops a hawthorn sprig -- and calthrops that wouldpierce your foot through, and pitfalls deep enough to bury you inthem for ever; for you are now within the precincts of the royaldemesne, and we shall presently see the front of the Chateau."
"Were I the King of France," said the young man, "I would not takeso much trouble with traps and gins, but would try instead to governso well that no man should dare to come near my dwelling with a badintent; and for those who came there in peace and goodwill, why,the more of them the merrier we should be."
His companion looked round affecting an alarmed gaze, and said,"Hush, hush, Sir Varlet with the Velvet Pouch! for I forgot to tellyou, that one great danger of these precincts is, that the veryleaves of the trees are like so many ears, which carry all whichis spoken to the King's own cabinet."
"I care little for that," answered Quentin Durward; "I bear aScottish tongue in my head, bold enough to speak my mind to KingLouis's face, God bless him -- and for the ears you talk of, if Icould see them growing on a human head, I would crop them out ofit with my wood knife."