In Berlin they would have said it was a revolution, and the cuirassiers would have been charging, sabre in hand, amidst that infuriate mob. In France they would have brought down artillery5, and played on it with twenty-four pounders. In Cambridge nobody heeded6 the disturbance7 — it was a Town and Gown row.
The row arose at a boat-race. The Town boat (manned by eight stout8 Bargees, with the redoubted Rullock for stroke) had bumped the Brazenose light oar3, usually at the head of the river. High words arose regarding the dispute. After returning from Granchester, when the boats pulled back to Christchurch meadows, the disturbance between the Townsmen and the University youths — their invariable opponents — grew louder and more violent, until it broke out in open battle. Sparring and skirmishing took place along the pleasant fields that lead from the University gate down to the broad and shining waters of the Cam, and under the walls of Balliol and Sidney Sussex. The Duke of Bellamont (then a dashing young sizar at Exeter) had a couple of rounds with Billy Butt9, the bow-oar of the Bargee boat. Vavasour of Brazenose was engaged with a powerful butcher, a well-known champion of the Town party, when, the great University bells ringing to dinner, truce10 was called between the combatants, and they retired11 to their several colleges for refection.
During the boat-race, a gentleman pulling in a canoe, and smoking a narghilly, had attracted no ordinary attention. He rowed about a hundred yards ahead of the boats in the race, so that he could have a good view of that curious pastime. If the eight-oars neared him, with a few rapid strokes of his flashing paddles his boat shot a furlong ahead; then he would wait, surveying the race, and sending up volumes of odor from his cool narghilly.
“Who is he?” asked the crowds who panted along the shore, encouraging, according to Cambridge wont12, the efforts of the oarsmen in the race. Town and Gown alike asked who it was, who, with an ease so provoking, in a barque so singular, with a form seemingly so slight, but a skill so prodigious13, beat their best men. No answer could be given to the query14, save that a gentleman in a dark travelling-chariot, preceded by six fourgons and a courier, had arrived the day before at the “Hoop Inn,” opposite Brazenose, and that the stranger of the canoe seemed to be the individual in question.
No wonder the boat, that all admired so, could compete with any that ever was wrought15 by Cambridge artificer or Putney workman. That boat — slim, shining, and shooting through the water like a pike after a small fish — was a caique from Tophana; it had distanced the Sultan’s oarsmen and the best crews of the Capitan Pasha in the Bosphorus; it was the workmanship of Togrul-Beg, Caikjee Bashee of his Highness. The Bashee had refused fifty thousand tomauns from Count Boutenieff, the Russian Ambassador, for that little marvel16. When his head was taken off, the Father of Believers presented the boat to Rafael Mendoza.
It was Rafael Mendoza that saved the Turkish monarchy17 after the battle of Nezeeb. By sending three millions of piastres to the Seraskier; by bribing18 Colonel de St. Cornichon, the French envoy19 in the camp of the victorious20 Ibrahim, the march of the Egyptian army was stopped — the menaced empire of the Ottomans was saved from ruin; the Marchioness of Stokepogis, our ambassador’s lady, appeared in a suite21 of diamonds which outblazed even the Romanoff jewels, and Rafael Mendoza obtained the little caique. He never travelled without it. It was scarcely heavier than an arm-chair. Baroni, the courier, had carried it down to the Cam that morning, and Rafael had seen the singular sport which we have mentioned.
The dinner over, the young men rushed from their colleges, flushed, full-fed, and eager for battle. If the Gown was angry, the Town, too, was on the alert. From Iffly and Barnwell, from factory and mill, from wharf22 and warehouse23, the Town poured out to meet the enemy, and their battle was soon general. From the Addenbrook’s hospital to the Blenheim turnpike, all Cambridge was in an uproar — the college gates closed — the shops barricaded24 — the shop-boys away in support of their brother townsmen — the battle raged, and the Gown had the worst of the fight.
A luncheon25 of many courses had been provided for Rafael Mendoza at his inn; but he smiled at the clumsy efforts of the university cooks to entertain him, and a couple of dates and a glass of water formed his meal. In vain the discomfited26 landlord pressed him to partake of the slighted banquet. “A breakfast! psha!” said he. “My good man, I have nineteen cooks, at salaries rising from four hundred a year. I can have a dinner at any hour; but a Town and Gown row” (a brickbat here flying through the window crashed the caraffe of water in Mendoza’s hand)—“a Town and Gown row is a novelty to me. The Town has the best of it, clearly, though: the men outnumber the lads. Ha, a good blow! How that tall townsman went down before yonder slim young fellow in the scarlet27 trencher cap.”
“That is the Lord Codlingsby,” the landlord said.
“A light weight, but a pretty fighter,” Mendoza remarked. “Well hit with your left, Lord Codlingsby; well parried, Lord Codlingsby; claret drawn28, by Jupiter!”
“Ours is werry fine,” the landlord said. “Will your Highness have Chateau29 Margaux or Lafitte?”
“He never can be going to match himself against that bargeman!” Rafael exclaimed, as an enormous boatman — no other than Rullock — indeed, the most famous bruiser of Cambridge, and before whose fists the Gownsmen went down like ninepins — fought his way up to the spot where, with admirable spirit and resolution, Lord Codlingsby and one or two of his friends were making head against a number of the town.
The young noble faced the huge champion with the gallantry of his race, but was no match for the enemy’s strength and weight and sinew, and went down at every round. The brutal30 fellow had no mercy on the lad. His savage31 treatment chafed32 Mendoza as he viewed the unequal combat from the inn-window. “Hold your hand!” he cried to this Goliath; “don’t you see he’s but a boy?”
“Down he goes again!” the bargeman cried, not heeding33 the interruption. “Down he goes again: I likes wapping a lord!”
“Coward!” shouted Mendoza; and to fling open the window amidst a shower of brickbats, to vault34 over the balcony, to slide down one of the pillars to the ground, was an instant’s work.
At the next he stood before the enormous bargeman.
***
After the coroner’s inquest, Mendoza gave ten thousand pounds to each of the bargeman’s ten children, and it was thus his first acquaintance was formed with Lord Codlingsby.
But we are lingering on the threshold of the house in Holywell Street. Let us go in.
点击收听单词发音
1 sullenly | |
不高兴地,绷着脸,忧郁地 | |
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2 uproar | |
n.骚动,喧嚣,鼎沸 | |
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3 oar | |
n.桨,橹,划手;v.划行 | |
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4 groans | |
n.呻吟,叹息( groan的名词复数 );呻吟般的声音v.呻吟( groan的第三人称单数 );发牢骚;抱怨;受苦 | |
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5 artillery | |
n.(军)火炮,大炮;炮兵(部队) | |
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6 heeded | |
v.听某人的劝告,听从( heed的过去式和过去分词 );变平,使(某物)变平( flatten的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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7 disturbance | |
n.动乱,骚动;打扰,干扰;(身心)失调 | |
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9 butt | |
n.笑柄;烟蒂;枪托;臀部;v.用头撞或顶 | |
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10 truce | |
n.休战,(争执,烦恼等的)缓和;v.以停战结束 | |
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11 retired | |
adj.隐退的,退休的,退役的 | |
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12 wont | |
adj.习惯于;v.习惯;n.习惯 | |
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13 prodigious | |
adj.惊人的,奇妙的;异常的;巨大的;庞大的 | |
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14 query | |
n.疑问,问号,质问;vt.询问,表示怀疑 | |
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15 wrought | |
v.引起;以…原料制作;运转;adj.制造的 | |
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16 marvel | |
vi.(at)惊叹vt.感到惊异;n.令人惊异的事 | |
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17 monarchy | |
n.君主,最高统治者;君主政体,君主国 | |
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18 bribing | |
贿赂 | |
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19 envoy | |
n.使节,使者,代表,公使 | |
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20 victorious | |
adj.胜利的,得胜的 | |
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21 suite | |
n.一套(家具);套房;随从人员 | |
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22 wharf | |
n.码头,停泊处 | |
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23 warehouse | |
n.仓库;vt.存入仓库 | |
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24 barricaded | |
设路障于,以障碍物阻塞( barricade的过去式和过去分词 ); 设路障[防御工事]保卫或固守 | |
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25 luncheon | |
n.午宴,午餐,便宴 | |
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26 discomfited | |
v.使为难( discomfit的过去式和过去分词);使狼狈;使挫折;挫败 | |
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27 scarlet | |
n.深红色,绯红色,红衣;adj.绯红色的 | |
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28 drawn | |
v.拖,拉,拔出;adj.憔悴的,紧张的 | |
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29 chateau | |
n.城堡,别墅 | |
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30 brutal | |
adj.残忍的,野蛮的,不讲理的 | |
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31 savage | |
adj.野蛮的;凶恶的,残暴的;n.未开化的人 | |
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32 chafed | |
v.擦热(尤指皮肤)( chafe的过去式 );擦痛;发怒;惹怒 | |
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33 heeding | |
v.听某人的劝告,听从( heed的现在分词 ) | |
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34 vault | |
n.拱形圆顶,地窖,地下室 | |
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