The fayrest vertue, far above the rest. . . .
A sudden rush of feet on the stairs, a rusty1 swing-open of the thin door, and a man thrust himself into the room, a man without a jerkin, panting, sobbing2, on the verge3 of collapse4.
“Wessel,” words choked him, “stick me away somewhere, love of Our Lady!”
Caxter rose, carefully closing his book, and bolted the door in some concern.
“I’m pursued,” cried out Soft Shoes. “I vow5 there’s two short-witted blades trying to make me into mincemeat and near succeeding. They saw me hop6 the back wall!”
“It would need,” said Wessel, looking at him curiously7, “several battalions8 armed with blunderbusses, and two or three Armadas, to keep you reasonably secure from the revenges of the world.”
Soft Shoes smiled with satisfaction. His sobbing gasps9 were giving way to quick, precise breathing; his hunted air had faded to a faintly perturbed10 irony11.
“I feel little surprise,” continued Wessel.
“They were two such dreary12 apes.”
“Making a total of three.”
“Only two unless you stick me away. Man, man, come alive, they’ll be on the stairs in a spark’s age.”
Wessel took a dismantled13 pike-staff from the corner, and raising it to the high ceiling, dislodged a rough trap-door opening into a garret above.
“There’s no ladder.”
He moved a bench under the trap, upon which Soft Shoes mounted, crouched14, hesitated, crouched again, and then leaped amazingly upward. He caught at the edge of the aperture15 and swung back and forth16, for a moment, shifting his hold; finally doubled up and disappeared into the darkness above. There was a scurry17, a migration18 of rats, as the trap-door was replaced; . . . silence.
Wessel returned to his reading-table, opened to the Legend of Britomartis or of Chastity — and waited. Almost a minute later there was a scramble19 on the stairs and an intolerable hammering at the door. Wessel sighed and, picking up his candle, rose.
“Who’s there?”
“Open the door!”
“Who’s there?”
An aching blow frightened the frail20 wood, splintered it around the edge. Wessel opened it a scarce three inches, and held the candle high. His was to play the timorous21, the super-respectable citizen, disgracefully disturbed.
“One small hour of the night for rest. Is that too much to ask from every brawler22 and —-”
“Quiet, gossip! Have you seen a perspiring23 fellow?”
The shadows of two gallants fell in immense wavering outlines over the narrow stairs; by the light Wessel scrutinized25 them closely. Gentlemen, they were, hastily but richly dressed — one of them wounded severely26 in the hand, both radiating a sort of furious horror. Waving aside Wessel’s ready miscomprehension, they pushed by him into the room and with their swords went through the business of poking27 carefully into all suspected dark spots in the room, further extending their search to Wessel’s bedchamber.
“Is he hid here?” demanded the wounded man fiercely.
“Is who here?”
“Any man but you.”
“Only two others that I know of.”
For a second Wessel feared that he had been too damned funny, for the gallants made as though to prick28 him through.
“I heard a man on the stairs,” he said hastily, “full five minutes ago, it was. He most certainly failed to come up.”
He went on to explain his absorption in “The Faerie Queene” but, for the moment at least, his visitors, like the great saints, were anaesthetic to culture.
“What’s been done?” inquired Wessel.
“Violence!” said the man with the wounded hand. Wessel noticed that his eyes were quite wild. “My own sister. Oh, Christ in heaven, give us this man!”
Wessel winced29.
“Who is the man?”
“God’s word! We know not even that. What’s that trap up there?” he added suddenly.
“It’s nailed down. It’s not been used for years.” He thought of the pole in the corner and quailed30 in his belly31, but the utter despair of the two men dulled their astuteness32.
“It would take a ladder for any one not a tumbler,” said the wounded man listlessly.
His companion broke into hysterical33 laughter.
“A tumbler. Oh, a tumbler. Oh —-”
Wessel stared at them in wonder.
“That appeals to my most tragic34 humor,” cried the man, “that no one — oh, no one — could get up there but a tumbler.”
The gallant24 with the wounded hand snapped his good fingers impatiently.
“We must go next door — and then on —”
Helplessly they went as two walking under a dark and storm-swept sky.
Wessel closed and bolted the door and stood a moment by it, frowning in pity.
A low-breathed “Ha!” made him look up. Soft Shoes had already raised the trap and was looking down into the room, his rather elfish face squeezed into a grimace35, half of distaste, half of sardonic36 amusement.
“They take off their heads with their helmets,” he remarked in a whisper, “but as for you and me, Wessel, we are two cunning men.”
“Now you be cursed,” cried Wessel vehemently37. “I knew you for a dog, but when I hear even the half of a tale like this, I know you for such a dirty cur that I am minded to club your skull38.”
Soft Shoes stared at him, blinking.
“At all events,” he replied finally, “I find dignity impossible in this position.”
With this he let his body through the trap, hung for an instant, and dropped the seven feet to the floor.
“There was a rat considered my ear with the air of a gourmet,” he continued, dusting his hands on his breeches. “I told him in the rat’s peculiar39 idiom that I was deadly poison, so he took himself off.”
“Let’s hear of this night’s lechery40!” insisted Wessel angrily.
Soft Shoes touched his thumb to his nose and wiggled the fingers derisively41 at Wessel.
“Street gamin!” muttered Wessel.
“Have you any paper?” demanded Soft Shoes irrelevantly42, and then rudely added, “or can you write?”
“Why should I give you paper?”
“You wanted to hear of the night’s entertainment. So you shall, an you give me pen, ink, a sheaf of paper, and a room to myself.”
Wessel hesitated.
“Get out!” he said finally.
“As you will. Yet you have missed a most intriguing43 story.”
Wessel wavered — he was soft as taffy, that man — gave in. Soft Shoes went into the adjoining room with the begrudged44 writing materials and precisely45 closed the door. Wessel grunted46 and returned to “The Faerie Queene”; so silence came once more upon the house.
II
Three o’clock went into four. The room paled, the dark outside was shot through with damp and chill, and Wessel, cupping his brain in his hands, bent47 low over his table, tracing through the pattern of knights48 and fairies and the harrowing distresses49 of many girls. There were dragons chortling along the narrow street outside; when the sleepy armorer’s boy began his work at half-past five the heavy clink and clank of plate and linked mail swelled50 to the echo of a marching cavalcade51.
A fog shut down at the first flare52 of dawn, and the room was grayish yellow at six when Wessel tiptoed to his cupboard bedchamber and pulled open the door. His guest turned on him a face pale as parchment in which two distraught eyes burned like great red letters. He had drawn53 a chair close to Wessel’s prie-dieu which he was using as a desk; and on it was an amazing stack of closely written pages. With a long sigh Wessel withdrew and returned to his siren, calling himself fool for not claiming his bed here at dawn.
The dump of boots outside, the croaking54 of old beldames from attic55 to attic, the dull murmur56 of morning, unnerved him, and, dozing57, he slumped58 in his chair, his brain, overladen with sound and color, working intolerably over the imagery that stacked it. In this restless dream of his he was one of a thousand groaning59 bodies crushed near the sun, a helpless bridge for the strong-eyed Apollo. The dream tore at him, scraped along his mind like a ragged60 knife. When a hot hand touched his shoulder, he awoke with what was nearly a scream to find the fog thick in the room and his guest, a gray ghost of misty61 stuff, beside him with a pile of paper in his hand.
“It should be a most intriguing tale, I believe, though it requires some going over. May I ask you to lock it away, and in God’s name let me sleep?”
He waited for no answer, but thrust the pile at Wessel, and literally62 poured himself like stuff from a suddenly inverted63 bottle upon a couch in the corner, slept, with his breathing regular, but his brow wrinkled in a curious and somewhat uncanny manner.
Wessel yawned sleepily and, glancing at the scrawled, uncertain first page, he began reading aloud very softly:
The Rape of Lucrece
“From the besieged Ardea all in post,
Borne by the trustless wings of false desire,
Lust-breathing Tarquin leaves the Roman host —”
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1
rusty
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| adj.生锈的；锈色的；荒废了的 | |
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sobbing
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| <主方>Ⅰ adj.湿透的 | |
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verge
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| n.边，边缘；v.接近，濒临 | |
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collapse
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| vi.累倒；昏倒；倒塌；塌陷 | |
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vow
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| n.誓(言)，誓约；v.起誓，立誓 | |
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hop
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| n.单脚跳，跳跃；vi.单脚跳，跳跃；着手做某事；vt.跳跃，跃过 | |
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7
curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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8
battalions
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| n.（陆军的）一营（大约有一千兵士）( battalion的名词复数 )；协同作战的部队；军队；（组织在一起工作的）队伍 | |
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gasps
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| v.喘气( gasp的第三人称单数 )；喘息；倒抽气；很想要 | |
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10
perturbed
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| adj.烦燥不安的v.使（某人）烦恼，不安( perturb的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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11
irony
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| n.反语，冷嘲；具有讽刺意味的事，嘲弄 | |
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12
dreary
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| adj.令人沮丧的，沉闷的，单调乏味的 | |
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13
dismantled
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| 拆开( dismantle的过去式和过去分词 )； 拆卸； 废除； 取消 | |
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14
crouched
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| v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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15
aperture
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| n.孔，隙，窄的缺口 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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scurry
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| vi.急匆匆地走；使急赶；催促；n.快步急跑，疾走；仓皇奔跑声；骤雨，骤雪；短距离赛马 | |
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18
migration
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| n.迁移，移居，（鸟类等的）迁徙 | |
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19
scramble
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| v.爬行，攀爬，杂乱蔓延，碎片，片段，废料 | |
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20
frail
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| adj.身体虚弱的；易损坏的 | |
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21
timorous
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| adj.胆怯的，胆小的 | |
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22
brawler
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| 争吵者，打架者 | |
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23
perspiring
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| v.出汗，流汗( perspire的现在分词 ) | |
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24
gallant
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| adj.英勇的，豪侠的；(向女人)献殷勤的 | |
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25
scrutinized
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| v.仔细检查，详审( scrutinize的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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26
severely
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| adv.严格地；严厉地；非常恶劣地 | |
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27
poking
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| n. 刺，戳，袋 vt. 拨开，刺，戳 vi. 戳，刺，捅，搜索，伸出，行动散慢 | |
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28
prick
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| v.刺伤，刺痛，刺孔；n.刺伤，刺痛 | |
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29
winced
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| 赶紧避开，畏缩( wince的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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30
quailed
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| 害怕，发抖，畏缩( quail的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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31
belly
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| n.肚子，腹部；(像肚子一样)鼓起的部分，膛 | |
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32
astuteness
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| n.敏锐；精明；机敏 | |
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33
hysterical
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| adj.情绪异常激动的，歇斯底里般的 | |
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tragic
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| adj.悲剧的，悲剧性的，悲惨的 | |
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grimace
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| v.做鬼脸，面部歪扭 | |
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sardonic
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| adj.嘲笑的，冷笑的，讥讽的 | |
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vehemently
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| adv. 热烈地 | |
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38
skull
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| n.头骨；颅骨 | |
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peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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lechery
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| n.好色；淫荡 | |
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41
derisively
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| adv. 嘲笑地，嘲弄地 | |
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42
irrelevantly
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| adv.不恰当地，不合适地；不相关地 | |
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43
intriguing
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| adj.有趣的；迷人的v.搞阴谋诡计(intrigue的现在分词)；激起…的好奇心 | |
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44
begrudged
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| 嫉妒( begrudge的过去式和过去分词 )； 勉强做； 不乐意地付出； 吝惜 | |
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45
precisely
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| adv.恰好，正好，精确地，细致地 | |
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46
grunted
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| （猪等）作呼噜声( grunt的过去式和过去分词 )； （指人）发出类似的哼声； 咕哝着说 | |
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47
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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48
knights
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| 骑士； （中古时代的）武士( knight的名词复数 )； 骑士； 爵士； （国际象棋中）马 | |
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49
distresses
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| n.悲痛( distress的名词复数 )；痛苦；贫困；危险 | |
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50
swelled
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| 增强( swell的过去式和过去分词 )； 肿胀； （使）凸出； 充满（激情） | |
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51
cavalcade
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| n.车队等的行列 | |
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52
flare
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| v.闪耀，闪烁；n.潮红；突发 | |
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53
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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54
croaking
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| v.呱呱地叫( croak的现在分词 )；用粗的声音说 | |
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attic
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| n.顶楼，屋顶室 | |
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56
murmur
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| n.低语，低声的怨言；v.低语，低声而言 | |
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57
dozing
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| v.打瞌睡,假寐 n.瞌睡 | |
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58
slumped
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| 大幅度下降，暴跌( slump的过去式和过去分词 )； 沉重或突然地落下[倒下] | |
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59
groaning
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| adj. 呜咽的, 呻吟的 动词groan的现在分词形式 | |
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60
ragged
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| adj.衣衫褴褛的，粗糙的，刺耳的 | |
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61
misty
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| adj.雾蒙蒙的，有雾的 | |
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62
literally
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| adv.照字面意义，逐字地；确实 | |
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63
inverted
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| adj.反向的，倒转的v.使倒置，使反转( invert的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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