惊婚记 英文版 Quentin Durward
瓦尔特.司各特 Sir Walter Scott
CHAPTER VI: THE BOHEMIANS Page 1
Sae rantingly, sae wantingly,Sae dantingly gaed he,He play'd a spring and danced a roundBeneath the gallows tree!
OLD SONG
(The Bohemians: In . . . Guy Mannering the reader will find someremarks on the gipsies as they are found in Scotland. Their firstappearance in Europe took place in the beginning of the fifteenthcentury. The account given by these singular people was, that it wasappointed to them, as a penance, to travel for a certain number ofyears. Their appearance, however, and manners, strongly contradictedthe allegation that they travelled from any religious motive. Theirdress and accoutrements were at once showy and squalid; those whoacted as captains and leaders of any horde, . . . were arrayed indresses of the most showy colours, such as scarlet or light green;were well mounted; assumed the title of dukes and counts, andaffected considerable consequence. The rest of the tribe were mostmiserable in their diet and apparel, fed without hesitation onanimals which had died of disease, and were clad in filthy and scantyrags. . . . Their complexion was positively Eastern, approachingto that of the Hindoos. Their manners were as depraved as theirappearance was poor and beggarly. The men were in general thieves,and the women of the most abandoned character. The few arts whichthey studied with success were of a slight and idle, though ingeniousdescription. They practised working in iron, but never upon anygreat scale. Many were good sportsmen, good musicians. . . . Buttheir ingenuity never ascended into industry. . . . Their pretensionsto read fortunes, by palmistry and by astrology, acquired them sometimesrespect, but oftener drew them under suspicion as sorcerers; theuniversal accusation that they augmented their horde by stealingchildren, subjected them to doubt and execration. . . . The pretensionset up by these wanderers, of being pilgrims in the act of penance,although it . . . in many instances obtained them protection fromthe governments of the countries through which they travelled,was afterwards totally disbelieved, and they were consideredas incorrigible rogues and vagrants. . . . A curious and accurateaccount of their arrival in France is quoted by Pasquier "On August27th, 1427, came to Paris twelve penitents, . . . viz. a duke, anearl, and ten men, all on horseback, and calling themselves goodChristians. They were of Lower Egypt, and gave out that, not longbefore, the Christians had subdued their country, and obliged themto embrace Christianity on pain of being put to death. Those whowere baptized were great lords in their own country, and had a kingand queen there. Soon after their conversion, the Saracens overranthe country, and obliged them to renounce Christianity. When theEmperor of Germany, the King of Poland, and other Christian princesheard of this, they fell upon them, and obliged the whole of them,both great and small, to quit the country, and go to the Pope atRome, who enjoined them seven years' penance to wander over theworld, without lying in a bed. They had been wandering five yearswhen they came to Paris first. . . . Nearly all of them had theirears bored, and wore two silver rings in each. . . . The men wereblack, their hair curled; the women remarkably black, their onlyclothes a large old duffle garment, tied over the shoulders with acloth or cord, and under it a miserable rocket; . . . notwithstandingtheir poverty, there were among them women who, by looking intopeople's hands, told their fortunes, and what was worse, theypicked people's pockets of their money, and got it into their own,by telling these things through airy magic, et cetera." Pasquierremarks upon this singular journal that however the story ofa penance savours of a trick, these people wandered up and downFrance, under the eye, and with the knowledge, of the magistrates,for more than a hundred years; and it was not till 1561, thata sentence of banishment was passed against them in that kingdom.The arrival of the Egyptians (as these singular people were called)in various parts of Europe, corresponds with the period in whichTimur or Tamerlane invaded Hindostan, affording its natives thechoice between the Koran and death. There can be little doubt thatthese wanderers consisted originally of the Hindostanee tribes,who, displaced, and flying from the sabres of the Mohammedans,undertook this species of wandering life, without well knowingwhither they were going. When they are in closest contact withthe ordinary peasants around them, they still keep their languagea mystery. There is little doubt, however, that it is a dialect ofthe Hindostanee, from the specimens produced by Grellman, Hoyland,and others, who have written on the subject. S.)
The manner in which Quentin Durward had been educated was not of akind to soften the heart, or perhaps to improve the moral feeling.He, with the rest of his family, had been trained to the chaseas an amusement, and taught to consider war as their only seriousoccupation, and that it was the great duty of their lives stubbornlyto endure, and fiercely to retaliate, the attacks of their feudalenemies, by whom their race had been at last almost annihilated.And yet there mixed with these feuds a spirit of rude chivalry,and even courtesy, which softened their rigour; so that revenge,their only justice, was still prosecuted with some regard to humanityand generosity. The lessons of the worthy old monk, better attendedto, perhaps, during a long illness and adversity, than they mighthave been in health and success, had given young Durward stillfarther insight into the duties of humanity towards others; andconsidering the ignorance of the period, the general prejudicesentertained in favour of a military life, and the manner in whichhe himself had been bred, the youth was disposed to feel moreaccurately the moral duties incumbent on his station than was usualat the time.
He reflected on his interview with his uncle with a sense ofembarrassment and disappointment. His hopes had been high; for althoughintercourse by letters was out of the question, yet a pilgrim, oran adventurous trafficker, or a crippled soldier sometimes broughtLesly's name to Glen Houlakin, and all united in praising hisundaunted courage, and his success in many petty enterprises whichhis master had intrusted to him. Quentin's imagination had filledup the sketch in his own way, and assimilated his successful andadventurous uncle (whose exploits probably lost nothing in the telling)to some of the champions and knights errant of whom minstrels sungand who won crowns and kings' daughters by dint of sword and lance.He was now compelled to rank his kinsman greatly lower in the scaleof chivalry; but, blinded by the high respect paid to parents andthose who approach that character -- moved by every early prejudicein his favour -- inexperienced besides, and passionately attachedto his mother's memory, he saw not, in the only brother of thatdear relation, the character he truly held, which was that of anordinary mercenary soldier, neither much worse nor greatly betterthan many of the same profession whose presence added to thedistracted state of France.
Without being wantonly cruel, Le Balafre was, from habit, indifferentto human life and human suffering; he was profoundly ignorant,greedy of booty, unscrupulous how he acquired it, and profuse inexpending it on the gratification of his passions. The habit ofattending exclusively to his own wants and interests had convertedhim into one of the most selfish animals in the world; so that hewas seldom able, as the reader may have remarked, to proceed farin any subject without considering how it applied to himself, or,as it is called, making the case his own, though not upon feelingsconnected with the golden rule, but such as were very different.To this must be added that the narrow round of his duties and hispleasures had gradually circumscribed his thoughts, hopes, andwishes, and quenched in a great measure the wild spirit of honour,and desire of distinction in arms, by which his youth had been onceanimated.
Balafre was, in short, a keen soldier, hardened, selfish, andnarrow minded; active and bold in the discharge of his duty, butacknowledging few objects beyond it, except the formal observanceof a careless devotion, relieved by an occasional debauch withbrother Boniface, his comrade and confessor. Had his genius beenof a more extended character, he would probably have been promotedto some important command, for the King, who knew every soldierof his bodyguard personally, reposed much confidence in Balafre'scourage and fidelity; and besides, the Scot had either wisdom orcunning enough perfectly to understand, and ably to humour, thepeculiarities of that sovereign. Still, however, his capacity wastoo much limited to admit of his rising to higher rank, and thoughsmiled on and favoured by Louis on many occasions, Balafre continueda mere Life Guardsman, or Scottish Archer.
Without seeing the full scope of his uncle's character, Quentinfelt shocked at his indifference to the disastrous extirpation ofhis brother in law's whole family, and could not help being surprised,moreover, that so near a relative had not offered him the assistanceof his purse, which, but for the generosity of Maitre Pierre, hewould have been under the necessity of directly craving from him.He wronged his uncle, however, in supposing that this want ofattention to his probable necessities was owing to avarice. Notprecisely needing money himself at that moment, it had not occurredto Balafre that his nephew might be in exigencies; otherwise, heheld a near kinsman so much a part of himself, that he would haveprovided for the weal of the living nephew, as he endeavoured to dofor that of his deceased sister and her husband. But whatever wasthe motive, the neglect was very unsatisfactory to young Durward,and he wished more than once he had taken service with the Dukeof Burgundy before he quarrelled with his forester. "Whatever hadthen become of me," he thought to himself, "I should always havebeen able to keep up my spirits with the reflection that I had, incase of the worst, a stout back friend in this uncle of mine. Butnow I have seen him, and, woe worth him, there has been more helpin a mere mechanical stranger, than I have found in my own mother'sbrother, my countryman and a cavalier! One would think the slash,that has carved all comeliness out of his face, had let at the sametime every drop of gentle blood out of his body."
Durward now regretted he had not had an opportunity to mentionMaitre Pierre to Le Balafre, in the hope of obtaining some fartheraccount of that personage; but his uncle's questions had followedfast on each other, and the summons of the great bell of SaintMartin of Tours had broken off their conference rather suddenly.That old man, he thought to himself, was crabbed and dogged inappearance, sharp and scornful in language, but generous and liberalin his actions; and such a stranger is worth a cold kinsman.
"What says our old Scottish proverb? -- 'Better kind fremit, thanfremit kindred.' ('Better kind strangers than estranged kindred.'The motto is engraved on a dirk, belonging to a person who had buttoo much reason to choose such a device. It was left by him to myfather. The weapon is now in my possession. S.) I will find out thatman, which, methinks, should be no difficult task, since he is sowealthy as mine host bespeaks him. He will give me good advice formy governance, at least; and if he goes to strange countries, asmany such do, I know not but his may be as adventurous a serviceas that of those Guards of Louis."
As Quentin framed this thought, a whisper from those recesses of theheart in which lies much that the owner does not know of, or willnot acknowledge willingly, suggested that, perchance, the lady ofthe turret, she of the veil and lute, might share that adventurousjourney. As the Scottish youth made these reflections, he met twograve looking men, apparently citizens of Tours, whom, doffinghis cap with the reverence due from youth to age, he respectfullyasked to direct him to the house of Maitre Pierre.
"The house of whom, my fair son?" said one of the passengers.
"Of Maitre Pierre, the great silk merchant, who planted all themulberry trees in the park yonder," said Durward.
"Young man," said one of them who was nearest to him, "you havetaken up an idle trade a little too early."
"And have chosen wrong subjects to practise your fooleries upon,"said the farther one, still more gruffly. "The Syndic of Toursis not accustomed to be thus talked to by strolling jesters fromforeign parts."
Quentin was so much surprised at the causeless offence which thesetwo decent looking persons had taken at a very simple and civilquestion, that he forgot to be angry at the rudeness of their reply,and stood staring after them as they walked on with amended pace,often looking back at him, as if they were desirous to get as soonas possible out of his reach.
He next met a party of vine dressers, and addressed to them thesame question; and in reply, they demanded to know whether he wantedMaitre Pierre, the schoolmaster? or Maitre Pierre, the carpenter?or Maitre Pierre, the beadle? or half a dozen of Maitre Pierresbesides. When none of these corresponded with the descriptionof the person after whom he inquired, the peasants accused him ofjesting with them impertinently, and threatened to fall upon himand beat him, in guerdon of his raillery. The oldest amongst them,who had some influence over the rest, prevailed on them to desistfrom violence.
"You see by his speech and his fool's cap," said he, "that he isone of the foreign mountebanks who are come into the country, andwhom some call magicians and soothsayers, and some jugglers, andthe like, and there is no knowing what tricks they have amongstthem. I have heard of such a one's paying a liard (a small coppercoin worth a quarter of a cent, current in France in the fifteenthcentury.) to eat his bellyfull of grapes in a poor man's vineyard;and he ate as many as would have loaded a wain, and never undid abutton of his jerkin -- and so let him pass quietly, and keep hisway, as we will keep ours. -- And you, friend, if you would shunworse, walk quietly on, in the name of God, our Lady of Marmoutier,and Saint Martin of Tours, and trouble us no more about your MaitrePierre, which may be another name for the devil, for aught we know."
The Scot finding himself much the weaker party, judged it his Wisestcourse to walk on without reply; but the peasants, who at firstshrunk from him in horror, at his supposed talents for sorcery andgrape devouring, took heart of grace as he got to a distance, andhaving uttered a few cries and curses, finally gave them emphasiswith a shower of stones, although at such a distance as to dolittle or no harm to the object of their displeasure. Quentin, ashe pursued his walk, began to think, in his turn, either that hehimself lay under a spell, or that the people of Touraine were themost stupid, brutal, and inhospitable of the French peasants. Thenext incident which came under his observation did not tend todiminish this opinion.
On a slight eminence, rising above the rapid and beautiful Cher,in the direct line of his path, two or three large chestnut treeswere so happily placed as to form a distinguished and remarkablegroup; and beside them stood three or four peasants, motionless,with their eyes turned upwards, and fixed, apparently, upon someobject amongst the branches of the tree next to them. The meditationsof youth are seldom so profound as not to yield to the slightest,impulse of curiosity, as easily as the lightest pebble, droppedcasually from the hand, breaks the surface of a limpid pool. Quentinhastened his pace, and ran lightly up the rising ground, in timeenough to witness the ghastly spectacle which attracted the noticeof these gazers -- which was nothing less than the body of a man,convulsed by the last agony, suspended on one of the branches.
"Why do you not cut him down?" said the young Scot, whose hand wasas ready to assist affliction, as to maintain his own honour whenhe deemed it assailed.
One of the peasants, turning on him an eye from which fear hadbanished all expression but its own, and a face as pale as clay,pointed to a mark cut upon the bark of the tree, having the same ruderesemblance to a fleur de lys which certain talismanic scratches,well known to our revenue officers, bear to a broad arrow. Neitherunderstanding nor heeding the import of this symbol, young Durwardsprung lightly as the ounce up into the tree, drew from his pouchthat most necessary implement of a Highlander or woodsman, thetrusty skene dhu (black knife; a species of knife without clasp orhinge formerly much used by the Highlanders, who seldom travelledwithout such an ugly weapon, though it is now rarely used. S.),and, calling to those below to receive the body on their hands,cut the rope asunder in less than a minute after he had perceivedthe exigency.
But his humanity was ill seconded by the bystanders. So far fromrendering Durward any assistance, they seemed terrified at theaudacity of his action, and took to flight with one consent, as ifthey feared their merely looking on might have been construed intoaccession to his daring deed. The body, unsupported from beneath,fell heavily to earth in such a manner that Quentin, who presentlyafterwards jumped down, had the mortification to see that the lastsparks of life were extinguished. He gave not up his charitablepurpose, however, without farther efforts. He freed the wretchedman's neck from the fatal noose, undid the doublet, threw wateron the face, and practised the other ordinary remedies resorted tofor recalling suspended animation.
While he was thus humanely engaged, a wild clamour of tongues,speaking a language which he knew not, arose around him; and he hadscarcely time to observe that he was surrounded by several men andwomen of a singular and foreign appearance, when he found himselfroughly seized by both arms, while a naked knife, at the samemoment, was offered to his throat.
"Pale slave of Eblis!" (in Mohammedan religion the name of thechief of the fallen angels) said a man, in imperfect French, "areyou robbing him you have murdered? -- But we have you -- and youshall abuy it."
There were knives drawn on every side of him, as these words werespoken, and the grim and distorted countenances which glared onhim were like those of wolves rushing on their prey.
Still the young Scot's courage and presence of mind bore him out."What mean ye, my masters?" he said; "if that be your friend'sbody, I have just now cut him down, in pure charity, and you willdo better to try to recover his life, than to misuse an innocentstranger to whom he owes his chance of escape."
The women had by this time taken possession of the dead body, andcontinued the attempts to recover animation which Durward had beenmaking use of, though with the like bad success; so that, desistingfrom their fruitless efforts, they seemed to abandon themselves toall the Oriental expressions of grief; the women making a piteouswailing, and tearing their long black hair, while the men seemedto rend their garments, and to sprinkle dust upon their heads. Theygradually became so much engaged in their mourning rites, that theybestowed no longer any attention on Durward, of whose innocencethey were probably satisfied from circumstances. It would certainlyhave been his wisest plan to have left these wild people to theirown courses, but he had been bred in almost reckless contempt ofdanger, and felt all the eagerness of youthful curiosity.