惊婚记 英文版 Quentin Durward
瓦尔特.司各特 Sir Walter Scott
CHAPTER XXII: THE REVELLERS Page 1
Cade. -- Where's Dick, the butcher of Ashford?Dick. -- Here, sir.Cade. -- They fell before thee like sheep and oxen, and thoubehavedst thyself as if thou hadst been in thine own slaughterhouse.
SECOND PART OF KING HENRY V.
There could hardly exist a more strange and horrible change thanhad taken place in the castle hall of Schonwaldt since Quentin hadpartaken of the noontide meal there, and it was indeed one whichpainted, in the extremity of their dreadful features, the miseriesof war -- more especially when waged by those most relentless ofall agents, the mercenary soldiers of a barbarous age -- men who,by habit and profession, had become familiarized with all that wascruel and bloody in the art of war, while they were devoid alikeof patriotism and of the romantic spirit of chivalry.
Instead of the orderly, decent, and somewhat formal meal, at whichcivil and ecclesiastical officers had, a few hours before, satmingled in the same apartment, where a light jest could only beuttered in a whisper, and where, even amid superfluity of feastingand of wine, there reigned a decorum which almost amounted tohypocrisy, there was now such a scene of wild and roaring debaucheryas Satan himself, had he taken the chair as founder of the feast,could scarcely have improved.
At the head of the table sat, in the Bishop's throne and state, whichhad been hastily brought thither from his great council chamber,the redoubted Boar of Ardennes himself, well deserving that dreadedname in which he affected to delight, and which he did as much ashe could think of to deserve.
His head was unhelmeted, but he wore the rest of his ponderous andbright armour, which indeed he rarely laid aside. Over his shouldershung a strong surcoat, made of the dressed skin of a huge wildboar, the hoofs being of solid silver and the tusks of the same.The skin of the head was so arranged, that, drawn over the casque,when the Baron was armed, or over his bare head in the fashion ofa hood, as he often affected when the helmet was laid aside, and ashe now wore it, the effect was that of a grinning, ghastly monster,and yet the countenance which it overshadowed scarce requiredsuch horrors to improve those which were natural to its ordinaryexpression.
The upper part of De la Marck's face, as Nature had formed it,almost gave the lie to his character, for though his hair, whenuncovered, resembled the rude and wild bristles of the hood he haddrawn over it, yet an open, high, and manly forehead, broad ruddycheeks, large, sparkling, light coloured eyes, and a nose whichlooked like the beak of the eagle, promised something valiant andgenerous. But the effect of these more favourable traits was entirelyoverpowered by his habits of violence and insolence, which, joinedto debauchery and intemperance, had stamped upon the features acharacter inconsistent with the rough gallantry which they wouldotherwise have exhibited. The former had, from habitual indulgence,swollen the muscles of the cheeks and those around the eyes, inparticular the latter; evil practices and habits had dimmed theeyes themselves, reddened the part of them that should have beenwhite, and given the whole face a hideous likeness of the monsterwhich it was the terrible Baron's pleasure to resemble. But from anodd sort of contradiction, De la March, while he assumed in otherrespects the appearance of the Wild Boar, and even seemed pleasedwith the name, yet endeavoured, by the length and growth of hisbeard, to conceal the circumstance that had originally procuredhim that denomination. This was an unusual thickness and projectionof the mouth and upper jaw, which, with the huge projecting sideteeth, gave that resemblance to the bestial creation, which, joinedto the delight that De la Marck had in hunting the forest so called,originally procured for him the name of the Boar of Ardennes. Thebeard, broad, grisly, and uncombed, neither concealed the naturalhorrors of the countenance, nor dignified its brutal expression.
The soldiers and officers sat around the table, intermixed with themen of Liege, some of them of the very lowest description, amongwhom Nikkel Blok the butcher, placed near De la Marck himself,was distinguished by his tucked up sleeves, which displayed armssmeared to the elbows with blood, as was the cleaver which lay onthe table before him. The soldiers wore, most of them, their beardslong and grisly, in imitation of their leader, had their hairplaited and turned upwards, in the manner that ought best improvethe natural ferocity of their appearance, and intoxicated, as manyof them seemed to be, partly with the sense of triumph, and partlywith the long libations of wine which they had been quaffing,presented a spectacle at once hideous and disgusting. The languagewhich they held, and the songs which they sang, without evenpretending to pay each other the compliment of listening, were sofull of license and blasphemy, that Quentin blessed God that theextremity of the noise prevented them from being intelligible tohis companion.
The preparations for the feast had been as disorderly as the qualityof the company. The whole of the Bishop's plate -- nay, even thatbelonging to the service of the Church -- for the Boar of Ardennesregarded not the imputation of sacrilege -- was mingled with blackjacks, or huge tankards made of leather, and drinking horns of themost ordinary description.
One circumstance of horror remains to be added and accounted for,and we willingly leave the rest of the scene to the imaginationof the reader. Amidst the wild license assumed by the soldiers ofDe la Marck, one who was excluded from the table (a lanzknecht,remarkable for his courage and for his daring behaviour during thestorm of the evening), had impudently snatched up a large silvergoblet, and carried it off declaring it should atone for his lossof the share of the feast. The leader laughed till his sides shookat a jest so congenial to the character of the company, but whenanother, less renowned, it would seem, for audacity in battle, venturedon using the same freedom, De la Marck instantly put a check to ajocular practice, which would soon have cleared his table of allthe more valuable decorations.
"Ho! by the spirit of the thunder!" he exclaimed, "those who darenot be men when they face the enemy, must not pretend to be thievesamong their friends. What! thou frontless dastard, thou -- thou whodidst wait for opened gate and lowered bridge, when Conrade Horstforced his way over moat and wall, must thou be malapert? -- Knithim up to the stanchions of the hall window! -- He shall beat timewith his feet, while we drink a cup to his safe passage to thedevil."
The doom was scarce sooner pronounced than accomplished, and ina moment the wretch wrestled out his last agonies, suspended fromthe iron bars. His body still hung there when Quentin and the othersentered the hall, and, intercepting the pale moonbeam, threw on thecastle floor an uncertain shadow, which dubiously, yet fearfully,intimated the nature of the substance that produced it.
When the Syndic Pavillon was announced from mouth to mouth inthis tumultuous meeting, he endeavoured to assume, in right of hisauthority and influence, an air of importance and equality, whicha glance at the fearful object at the window, and at the wildscene around him, rendered it very difficult for him to sustain,notwithstanding the exhortations of Peter, who whispered in hisear with some perturbation, "Up heart, master, or we are but gonemen!"
The Syndic maintained his dignity, however, as well as he could,in a short address, in which he complimented the company upon thegreat victory gained by the soldiers of De la Marck and the goodcitizens of Liege.
"Ay," answered De la Marck, sarcastically, "we have brought downthe game at last, quoth my lady's brach to the wolf hound. But ho!Sir Burgomaster, you come like Mars, with Beauty by your side. Whois this fair one? -- Unveil, unveil -- no woman calls her beautyher own tonight."
"It is my daughter, noble leader," answered Pavillon, "and I amto pray your forgiveness for her wearing a veil. She has a vow forthat effect to the Three Blessed Kings."
"I will absolve her of it presently," said De la Marck, "for here,with one stroke of a cleaver, will I consecrate myself Bishop ofLiege, and I trust one living bishop is worth three dead kings."
There was a shuddering and murmur among the guests, for the communityof Liege, and even some of the rude soldiers, reverenced the Kingsof Cologne, as they were commonly called, though they respectednothing else.
"Nay, I mean no treason against their defunct majesties," said Dela Marck, "only Bishop I am determined to be. A prince both secularand ecclesiastical, having power to bind and loose, will best suita band of reprobates such as you, to whom no one else would giveabsolution. -- But come hither, noble Burgomaster -- sit besideme, when you shall see me make a vacancy for my own preferment. --Bring in our predecessor in the holy seat."
A bustle took place in the hall, while Pavillon, excusing himselffrom the proffered seat of honour, placed himself near the bottomof the table, his followers keeping close behind him, not unlikea flock of sheep which, when a stranger dog is in presence, may besometimes seen to assemble in the rear of an old bell wether, whois, from office and authority, judged by them to have rather morecourage than themselves. Near the spot sat a very handsome lad, anatural son, as was said, of the ferocious De la Marck, and towardswhom he sometimes showed affection, and even tenderness. The motherof the boy, a beautiful concubine, had perished by a blow dealther by the ferocious leader in a fit of drunkenness or jealousy,and her fate had caused her tyrant as much remorse as he was capableof feeling. His attachment to the surviving orphan might be partlyowing to these circumstances. Quentin, who had learned this pointof the leader's character from the old priest, planted himselfas close as he could to the youth in question, determined to makehim, in some way or other, either a hostage or a protector, shouldother means of safety fail them.
While all stood in a kind of suspense, waiting the event of theorders which the tyrant had issued, one of Pavillon's followerswhispered Peter, "Did not our master call that wench his daughter?-- Why, it cannot be our Trudchen. This strapping lass is tallerby two inches, and there is a black lock of hair peeps forth yonderfrom under her veil. By Saint Michael of the Marketplace, you mightas well call a black bullock's hide a white heifer's!
"Hush! hush!" said Peter, with some presence of mind. "What ifour 'master hath a mind to steal a piece of doe venison out of theBishop's parks here, without our good dame's knowledge? And is itfor thee or me to be a spy on him?"
"That will not I," answered the other, "though I would not havethought of his turning deer stealer at his years. Sapperment --what a shy fairy it is! See how she crouches down on yonder seat,behind folks' backs, to escape the gaze of the Marckers. -- Buthold, hold, what are they about to do with the poor old Bishop?"
As he spoke, the Bishop of Liege, Louis of Bourbon, was dragged intothe hall of his own palace by the brutal soldiery. The dishevelledstate of his hair, beard, and attire bore witness to the ill treatmenthe had already received, and some of his sacerdotal robes, hastilyflung over him, appeared to have been put on in scorn and ridiculeof his quality and character. By good fortune, as Quentin wascompelled to think it, the Countess Isabelle, whose feelings atseeing her protector in such an extremity might have betrayed herown secret and compromised her safety, was so situated as neitherto hear nor see what was about to take place, and Durward sedulouslyinterposed his own person before her, so as to keep her fromobserving alike and from observation.
The scene which followed was short and fearful. When the unhappyPrelate was brought before the footstool of the savage leader,although in former life only remarkable for his easy and goodnatured temper, he showed in this extremity a sense of his dignityand noble blood, well becoming the high race from which he wasdescended. His look was composed and undismayed, his gesture, whenthe rude hands which dragged him forward were unloosed, was noble,and at the same time resigned, somewhat between the bearing of afeudal noble and of a Christian martyr and so much was even De laMarck himself staggered by the firm demeanour of his prisoner andrecollection of the early benefits he had received from him, thathe seemed irresolute, cast down his eyes, and it was not untilhe had emptied a large goblet of wine, that, resuming his haughtyinsolence of look and manner, he thus addressed his unfortunatecaptive.
"Louis of Bourbon," said the truculent soldier, drawing hard hisbreath, clenching 'his hands, setting his teeth, and using theother mechanical actions to rouse up and sustain his native ferocityof temper, "I sought your friendship, and you rejected mine. Whatwould you now give that it had been otherwise? -- Nikkel, be ready."
The butcher rose, seized his weapon, and stealing round behind Dela Marck's chair, stood with it uplifted in his bare and sinewyhands.
"Look at that man, Louis of Bourbon," said De la Marck again, --"What terms wilt thou now offer, to escape this dangerous hour?"
The Bishop cast a melancholy but unshaken look upon the grislysatellite, who seemed prepared to execute the will of the tyrant,and then he said with firmness, "Hear me, William de la Marck, andgood men all, if there be any here who deserve that name, hear theonly terms I can offer to this ruffian.
"William de la Marck, thou hast stirred up to sedition an imperialcity -- hast assaulted and taken the palace of a Prince of theHoly German Empire -- slain his people -- plundered his goods --maltreated his person, for this thou art liable to the Ban of theEmpire (to put a prince under the ban of the empire was to divest himof his dignities, and to interdict all intercourse and all officesof humanity with the offender) -- hast deserved to be declaredoutlawed and fugitive, landless and rightless. Thou hast done morethan all this. More than mere human laws hast thou broken, morethan mere human vengeance hast thou deserved. Thou hast broken intothe sanctuary of the Lord -- laid violent hands upon a Father ofthe Church -- defiled the house of God with blood and rapine, likea sacrilegious robber --"
"Hast thou yet done?" said De la Marck, fiercely interrupting him,and stamping with his foot.
"No," answered the Prelate, "for I have not yet told thee the termswhich you demanded to hear from me."
And flinging himself back in his seat, he grinded his teeth tillthe foam flew from his lips, as from the tusks of the savage animalwhose name and spoils he wore.
"Such are thy crimes," resumed the Bishop, with calm determination,"now hear the terms, which, as a merciful Prince and a ChristianPrelate, setting aside all personal offence, forgiving each peculiarinjury, I condescend to offer. Fling down thy heading staff --renounce thy command -- unbind thy prisoners -- restore thy spoil-- distribute what else thou hast of goods, to relieve those whomthou hast made orphans and widows -- array thyself in sackclothand ashes -- take a palmer's staff in thy hand, and go barefootedon pilgrimage to Rome, and we will ourselves be intercessors forthee with the Imperial Chamber at Ratisbon for thy life, With ourHoly Father the Pope for thy miserable soul."
While Louis of Bourbon proposed these terms, in a tone as decidedas if he still occupied his episcopal throne, and as if the usurperkneeled a suppliant at his feet, the tyrant slowly raised himselfin his chair, the amazement with which he was at first filled givingway gradually to rage, until, as the Bishop ceased, he looked toNikkel Blok, and raised his finger, without speaking a word. Theruffian struck as if he had been doing his office in the commonshambles, and the murdered Bishop sunk, without a groan, at the footof his own episcopal throne. The Liegeois, who were not preparedfor so horrible a catastrophe, and who had expected to hear theconference end in some terms of accommodation, started up unanimously,with cries of execration, mingled with shouts of vengeance.
(In assigning the present date to the murder of the Bishop of Liege,Louis de Bourbon, history has been violated. It is true that theBishop was made prisoner by the insurgents of that city. It isalso true that the report of the insurrection came to Charles witha rumour that the Bishop was slain, which excited his indignationagainst Louis, who was then in his power. But these things happenedin 1468, and the Bishop's murder did not take place till 1482.In the months of August and September of that year, William de laMarck, called the Wild Boar of Ardennes, entered into a conspiracywith the discontented citizens of Liege against their Bishop, Louisof Bourbon, being aided with considerable sums of money by the Kingof France. By this means, and the assistance of many murderers andbanditti, who thronged to him as to a leader befitting them, De laMarck assembled a body of troops, whom he dressed in scarlet as auniform, with a boar's head on the left sleeve. With this littlearmy he approached the city of Liege. Upon this the citizens, whowere engaged in the conspiracy, came to their Bishop, and, offeringto stand by him to the death, exhorted him to march out againstthese robbers. The Bishop, therefore, put himself at the head ofa few troops of his own, trusting to the assistance of the peopleof Liege. But so soon as they came in sight of the enemy, thecitizens, as before agreed, fled from the Bishop's banner, and hewas left with his own handful of adherents. At this moment De laMarck charged at the head of his banditti with the expected success.The Bishop was brought before the profligate Knight, who first cuthim over the face, then murdered him with his own hand, and causedhis body to be exposed naked in the great square of Liege beforeSaint Lambert's Cathedral. S.)
But William de la Marck, raising his tremendous voice above thetumult, and shaking his clenched hand and extended arm, shoutedaloud, "How now, ye porkers of Liege! ye wallowers in the mud ofthe Maes! -- do ye dare to mate yourselves with the Wild Boar ofArdennes? -- Up, ye Boar's brood!" (an expression by which he himself,and others, often designated his soldiers) "let these Flemish hogssee your tusks!"