He had naturally brought no breaching13 guns with him, because those instruments were not yet invented: and though he had assaulted the place a score of times with the utmost fury, his Majesty14 had been beaten back on every occasion, until he was so savage15 that it was dangerous to approach the British Lion. The Lion’s wife, the lovely Berengaria, scarcely ventured to come near him. He flung the joint-stools in his tent at the heads of the officers of state, and kicked his aides-de-camp round his pavilion; and, in fact, a maid of honor, who brought a sack-posset in to his Majesty from the Queen after he came in from the assault, came spinning like a football out of the royal tent just as Ivanhoe entered it.
“Send me my drum-major to flog that woman!” roared out the infuriate King. “By the bones of St. Barnabas she has burned the sack! By St. Wittikind, I will have her flayed16 alive. Ha, St. George! ha, St. Richard! whom have we here?” And he lifted up his demi-culverin, or curtal-axe17 — a weapon weighing about thirteen hundredweight — and was about to fling it at the intruder’s head, when the latter, kneeling gracefully18 on one knee, said calmly, “It is I, my good liege, Wilfrid of Ivanhoe.”
“What, Wilfrid of Templestowe, Wilfrid the married man, Wilfrid the henpecked!” cried the King with a sudden burst of good-humor, flinging away the culverin from him, as though it had been a reed (it lighted three hundred yards off, on the foot of Hugo de Bunyon, who was smoking a cigar at the door of his tent, and caused that redoubted warrior20 to limp for some days after). “What, Wilfrid my gossip? Art come to see the lion’s den11? There are bones in it, man, bones and carcasses, and the lion is angry,” said the King, with a terrific glare of his eyes. “But tush! we will talk of that anon. Ho! bring two gallons of hypocras for the King and the good Knight, Wilfrid of Ivanhoe. Thou art come in time, Wilfrid, for, by St. Richard and St. George, we will give a grand assault tomorrow. There will be bones broken, ha!”
“I care not, my liege,” said Ivanhoe, pledging the sovereign respectfully, and tossing off the whole contents of the bowl of hypocras to his Highness’s good health. And he at once appeared to be taken into high favor; not a little to the envy of many of the persons surrounding the King.
As his Majesty said, there was fighting and feasting in plenty before Chalus. Day after day, the besiegers made assaults upon the castle, but it was held so stoutly22 by the Count of Chalus and his gallant23 garrison24, that each afternoon beheld25 the attacking-parties returning disconsolately26 to their tents, leaving behind them many of their own slain27, and bringing back with them store of broken heads and maimed limbs, received in the unsuccessful onset28. The valor displayed by Ivanhoe in all these contests was prodigious29; and the way in which he escaped death from the discharges of mangonels, catapults, battering-rams, twenty-four pounders, boiling oil, and other artillery30, with which the besieged31 received their enemies, was remarkable32. After a day’s fighting, Gurth and Wamba used to pick the arrows out of their intrepid33 master’s coat-of-mail, as if they had been so many almonds in a pudding. ’Twas well for the good knight, that under his first coat-of armor he wore a choice suit of Toledan steel, perfectly34 impervious35 to arrow-shots, and given to him by a certain Jew, named Isaac of York, to whom he had done some considerable services a few years back.
If King Richard had not been in such a rage at the repeated failures of his attacks upon the castle, that all sense of justice was blinded in the lion-hearted monarch, he would have been the first to acknowledge the valor of Sir Wilfrid of Ivanhoe, and would have given him a Peerage and the Grand Cross of the Bath at least a dozen times in the course of the siege: for Ivanhoe led more than a dozen storming parties, and with his own hand killed as many men (viz, two thousand three hundred and fifty-one) within six, as were slain by the lion-hearted monarch himself. But his Majesty was rather disgusted than pleased by his faithful servant’s prowess; and all the courtiers, who hated Ivanhoe for his superior valor and dexterity36 (for he would kill you off a couple of hundreds of them of Chalus, whilst the strongest champions of the Kings host could not finish more than their two dozen of a day), poisoned the royal mind against Sir Wilfrid, and made the King look upon his feats37 of arms with an evil eye. Roger de Backbite38 sneeringly39 told the King that Sir Wilfrid had offered to bet an equal bet that he would kill more men than Richard himself in the next assault: Peter de Toadhole said that Ivanhoe stated everywhere that his Majesty was not the man he used to be; that pleasures and drink had enervated40 him; that he could neither ride, nor strike a blow with sword or axe, as he had been enabled to do in the old times in Palestine: and finally, in the twenty-fifth assault, in which they had very nearly carried the place, and in which onset Ivanhoe slew41 seven, and his Majesty six, of the sons of the Count de Chalus, its defender42, Ivanhoe almost did for himself, by planting his banner before the King’s upon the wall; and only rescued himself from utter disgrace by saving his Majesty’s life several times in the course of this most desperate onslaught.
Then the luckless knight’s very virtues43 (as, no doubt, my respected readers know,) made him enemies amongst the men — nor was Ivanhoe liked by the women frequenting the camp of the gay King Richard. His young Queen, and a brilliant court of ladies, attended the pleasure-loving monarch. His Majesty would transact44 business in the morning, then fight severely45 from after breakfast till about three o’clock in the afternoon; from which time, until after midnight, there was nothing but jigging46 and singing, feasting and revelry, in the royal tents. Ivanhoe, who was asked as a matter of ceremony, and forced to attend these entertainments, not caring about the blandishments of any of the ladies present, looked on at their ogling47 and dancing with a countenance48 as glum49 as an undertaker’s, and was a perfect wet-blanket in the midst of the festivities. His favorite resort and conversation were with a remarkably50 austere51 hermit52, who lived in the neighborhood of Chalus, and with whom Ivanhoe loved to talk about Palestine, and the Jews, and other grave matters of import, better than to mingle53 in the gayest amusements of the court of King Richard. Many a night, when the Queen and the ladies were dancing quadrilles and polkas (in which his Majesty, who was enormously stout21 as well as tall, insisted upon figuring, and in which he was about as graceful19 as an elephant dancing a hornpipe), Ivanhoe would steal away from the ball, and come and have a night’s chat under the moon with his reverend friend. It pained him to see a man of the King’s age and size dancing about with the young folks. They laughed at his Majesty whilst they flattered him: the pages and maids of honor mimicked54 the royal mountebank55 almost to his face; and, if Ivanhoe ever could have laughed, he certainly would one night when the King, in light-blue satin inexpressibles, with his hair in powder, chose to dance the minuet de la cour with the little Queen Berangeria.
Then, after dancing, his Majesty must needs order a guitar, and begin to sing. He was said to compose his own songs — words and music — but those who have read Lord Campobello’s “Lives of the Lord Chancellors” are aware that there was a person by the name of Blondel, who, in fact, did all the musical part of the King’s performances; and as for the words, when a king writes verses, we may be sure there will be plenty of people to admire his poetry. His Majesty would sing you a ballad57, of which he had stolen every idea, to an air that was ringing on all the barrel-organs of Christendom, and, turning round to his courtiers, would say, “How do you like that? I dashed it off this morning.” Or, “Blondel, what do you think of this movement in B flat?” or what not; and the courtiers and Blondel, you may be sure, would applaud with all their might, like hypocrites as they were.
One evening — it was the evening of the 27th March, 1199, indeed — his Majesty, who was in the musical mood, treated the court with a quantity of his so-called composition, until the people were fairly tired of clapping with their hands and laughing in their sleeves. First he sang an ORIGINAL air and poem, beginning
“Cherries nice, cherries nice, nice, come choose,
Fresh and fair ones, who’ll refuse?” &c.
The which he was ready to take his affidavit58 he had composed the day before yesterday. Then he sang an equally ORIGINAL heroic melody, of which the chorus was
“Rule Britannia, Britannia rules the sea,
For Britons never, never, never slaves shall be,” &c.
The courtiers applauded this song as they did the other, all except Ivanhoe, who sat without changing a muscle of his features, until the King questioned him, when the knight, with a bow said “he thought he had heard something very like the air and the words elsewhere.” His Majesty scowled59 at him a savage glance from under his red bushy eyebrows60; but Ivanhoe had saved the royal life that day, and the King, therefore, with difficulty controlled his indignation.
“Well,” said he, “by St. Richard and St. George, but ye never heard THIS song, for I composed it this very afternoon as I took my bath after the melee61. Did I not, Blondel?”
Blondel, of course, was ready to take an affidavit that his Majesty had done as he said, and the King, thrumming on his guitar with his great red fingers and thumbs, began to sing out of tune3 and as follows:—
“COMMANDERS OF THE FAITHFUL.
“The Pope he is a happy man,
His Palace is the Vatican,
And there he sits and drains his can:
The Pope he is a happy man.
I often say when I’m at home,
I’d like to be the Pope of Rome.
“And then there’s Sultan Saladin,
That Turkish Soldan full of sin;
He has a hundred wives at least,
By which his pleasure is increased:
I’ve often wished, I hope no sin,
That I were Sultan Saladin.
“But no, the Pope no wife may choose,
And so I would not wear his shoes;
No wine may drink the proud Paynim,
And so I’d rather not be him:
My wife, my wine, I love I hope,
And would be neither Turk nor Pope.”
“Encore! Encore! Bravo! Bis!” Everybody applauded the King’s song with all his might: everybody except Ivanhoe, who preserved his abominable62 gravity: and when asked aloud by Roger de Backbite whether he had heard that too, said firmly, “Yes, Roger de Backbite; and so hast thou if thou darest but tell the truth.”
“Now, by St. Cicely, may I never touch gittern again,” bawled63 the King in a fury, “if every note, word, and thought be not mine; may I die in tomorrow’s onslaught if the song be not my song. Sing thyself, Wilfrid of the Lanthorn Jaws64; thou could’st sing a good song in old times.” And with all his might, and with a forced laugh, the King, who loved brutal65 practical jests, flung his guitar at the head of Ivanhoe.
Sir Wilfrid caught it gracefully with one hand, and making an elegant bow to the sovereign, began to chant as follows:—
“KING CANUTE.
“King Canute was weary-hearted; he had reigned66 for years a score,
Battling, struggling, pushing, fighting, killing67 much and robbing
more;
And he thought upon his actions, walking by the wild sea-shore.
“‘Twixt the Chancellor56 and Bishop68 walked the King with steps
sedate69,
Chamberlains and grooms70 came after, silversticks and goldsticks
great,
Chaplains, aides-de-camp, and pages — all the officers of state.
“Sliding after like his shadow, pausing when he chose to pause,
If a frown his face contracted, straight the courtiers dropped
their jaws;
If to laugh the King was minded, out they burst in loud hee-haws.
“But that day a something vexed71 him, that was clear to old and
young:
Thrice his Grace had yawned at table, when his favorite gleemen
sung,
Once the Queen would have consoled him, but he bade her hold her
tongue.
“‘Something ails72 my gracious master,’ cried the Keeper of the Seal.
‘Sure, my lord, it is the lampreys served at dinner, or the veal73?’
‘Psha!’ exclaimed the angry monarch. ‘Keeper, ’tis not that I
feel.
“’’Tis the HEART, and not the dinner, fool, that doth my rest
impair74:
Can a King be great as I am, prithee, and yet know no care?
Oh, I’m sick, and tired, and weary.’— Some one cried, ‘The King’s
arm-chair?’
“Then towards the lackeys75 turning, quick my Lord the Keeper nodded,
Straight the King’s great chair was brought him, by two footmen
able-bodied;
Languidly he sank into it: it was comfortably wadded.
“‘Leading on my fierce companions,’ cried be, ‘over storm and
brine,
I have fought and I have conquered! Where was glory like to mine?’
Loudly all the courtiers echoed: ‘Where is glory like to thine?’
“‘What avail me all my kingdoms? Weary am I now, and old;
Those fair sons I have begotten76, long to see me dead and cold;
Would I were, and quiet buried, underneath77 the silent mould!
“‘Oh, remorse78, the writhing79 serpent! at my bosom80 tears and bites;
Horrid81, horrid things I look on, though I put out all the lights;
Ghosts of ghastly recollections troop about my bed of nights.
“‘Cities burning, convents blazing, red with sacrilegious fires;
Mothers weeping, virgins82 screaming, vainly for their slaughtered83
sires.’— Such a tender conscience,’ cries the Bishop, ‘every
one admires.
“‘But for such unpleasant bygones, cease, my gracious lord, to
search,
They’re forgotten and forgiven by our Holy Mother Church;
Never, never does she leave her benefactors84 in the lurch85.
“‘Look! the land is crowned with minsters, which your Grace’s
bounty86 raised;
Abbeys filled with holy men, where you and Heaven are daily
praised:
YOU, my lord, to think of dying? on my conscience I’m amazed!’
“‘Nay, I feel,’ replied King Canute, ‘that my end is drawing near.’
‘Don’t say so,’ exclaimed the courtiers (striving each to squeeze a
tear).
‘Sure your Grace is strong and lusty, and may live this fifty
year.’
“‘Live these fifty years!’ the Bishop roared, with actions made to
suit.
‘Are you mad, my good Lord Keeper, thus to speak of King Canute!
Men have lived a thousand years, and sure his Majesty will do’t.
“‘Adam, Enoch, Lamech, Cainan, Mahaleel, Methusela,
Lived nine hundred years apiece, and mayn’t the King as well as
they?’
‘Fervently,’ exclaimed the Keeper, ‘fervently I trust he may.’
“‘HE to die?’ resumed the Bishop. ‘He a mortal like to US?
Death was not for him intended, though communis omnibus:
Keeper, you are irreligious, for to talk and cavil87 thus.
“‘With his wondrous88 skill in healing ne’er a doctor can compete,
Loathsome89 lepers, if he touch them, start up clean upon their feet;
Surely he could raise the dead up, did his Highness think it meet.
“‘Did not once the Jewish captain stay the sun upon the hill,
And, the while he slew the foemen, bid the silver moon stand still?
So, no doubt, could gracious Canute, if it were his sacred will.’
“‘Might I stay the sun above us, good Sir Bishop?’ Canute cried;
‘Could I bid the silver moon to pause upon her heavenly ride?
If the moon obeys my orders, sure I can command the tide.
“‘Will the advancing waves obey me, Bishop, if I make the sign?’
Said the Bishop, bowing lowly, ‘Land and sea, my lord, are thine.’
Canute turned towards the ocean —‘Back!’ he said, ‘thou foaming90
brine
“‘From the sacred shore I stand on, I command thee to retreat;
Venture not, thou stormy rebel, to approach thy master’s seat:
Ocean, be thou still! I bid thee come not nearer to my feet!’
“But the sullen91 ocean answered with a louder, deeper roar,
And the rapid waves drew nearer, falling sounding on the shore;
Back the Keeper and the Bishop, back the King and courtiers bore.
“And he sternly bade them never more to kneel to human clay,
But alone to praise and worship That which earth and seas obey:
And his golden crown of empire never wore he from that day.
King Canute is dead and gone: Parasites92 exist alway.”
At this ballad, which, to be sure, was awfully93 long, and as grave as a sermon, some of the courtiers tittered, some yawned, and some affected94 to be asleep and snore outright95. But Roger de Backbite thinking to curry96 favor with the King by this piece of vulgarity, his Majesty fetched him a knock on the nose and a buffet97 on the ear, which, I warrant me, wakened Master Roger; to whom the King said, “Listen and be civil, slave; Wilfrid is singing about thee. — Wilfrid, thy ballad is long, but it is to the purpose, and I have grown cool during thy homily. Give me thy hand, honest friend. Ladies, good night. Gentlemen, we give the grand assault tomorrow; when I promise thee, Wilfrid, thy banner shall not be before mine.”— And the King, giving his arm to her Majesty, retired98 into the private pavilion.
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收听单词发音
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1
squire
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| n.护卫, 侍从, 乡绅 | |
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knight
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| n.骑士，武士；爵士 | |
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tune
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| n.调子；和谐，协调；v.调音，调节，调整 | |
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tunes
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| n.曲调，曲子( tune的名词复数 )v.调音( tune的第三人称单数 )；调整；（给收音机、电视等）调谐；使协调 | |
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vassal
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| n.附庸的；属下；adj.奴仆的 | |
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valor
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| n.勇气，英勇 | |
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annoyance
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| n.恼怒，生气，烦恼 | |
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8
monarch
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| n.帝王，君主，最高统治者 | |
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9
balked
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| v.畏缩不前，犹豫( balk的过去式和过去分词 )；（指马）不肯跑 | |
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10
adversary
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| adj.敌手，对手 | |
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den
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| n.兽穴；秘密地方；安静的小房间，私室 | |
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12
determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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13
breaching
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| 攻破( breach的过去式 )； 破坏，违反 | |
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14
majesty
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| n.雄伟，壮丽，庄严，威严；最高权威，王权 | |
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15
savage
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| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
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16
flayed
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| v.痛打( flay的过去式和过去分词 )；把…打得皮开肉绽；剥（通常指动物）的皮；严厉批评 | |
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17
axe
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| n.斧子；v.用斧头砍，削减 | |
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18
gracefully
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| ad.大大方方地；优美地 | |
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19
graceful
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| adj.优美的，优雅的；得体的 | |
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warrior
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| n.勇士，武士，斗士 | |
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stoutly
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| adv.牢固地，粗壮的 | |
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23
gallant
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| adj.英勇的，豪侠的；(向女人)献殷勤的 | |
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garrison
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| n.卫戍部队；驻地，卫戍区；vt.派(兵)驻防 | |
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25
beheld
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| v.看，注视( behold的过去式和过去分词 )；瞧；看呀；（叙述中用于引出某人意外的出现）哎哟 | |
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disconsolately
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| adv.悲伤地，愁闷地；哭丧着脸 | |
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27
slain
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| 杀死，宰杀，杀戮( slay的过去分词 )； (slay的过去分词) | |
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onset
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| n.进攻，袭击，开始，突然开始 | |
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prodigious
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| adj.惊人的，奇妙的；异常的；巨大的；庞大的 | |
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30
artillery
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| n.(军)火炮，大炮；炮兵(部队) | |
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31
besieged
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| 包围，围困，围攻( besiege的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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remarkable
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| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
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intrepid
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| adj.无畏的，刚毅的 | |
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perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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impervious
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| adj.不能渗透的，不能穿过的，不易伤害的 | |
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dexterity
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| n.(手的)灵巧，灵活 | |
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feats
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| 功绩，伟业，技艺( feat的名词复数 ) | |
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backbite
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| v.背后诽谤 | |
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sneeringly
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| 嘲笑地，轻蔑地 | |
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40
enervated
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| adj.衰弱的，无力的v.使衰弱，使失去活力( enervate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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41
slew
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| v.（使）旋转；n.大量，许多 | |
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42
defender
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| n.保卫者，拥护者，辩护人 | |
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43
virtues
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| 美德( virtue的名词复数 )； 德行； 优点； 长处 | |
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transact
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| v.处理；做交易；谈判 | |
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severely
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| adv.严格地；严厉地；非常恶劣地 | |
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46
jigging
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| n.跳汰选，簸选v.（使）上下急动( jig的现在分词 ) | |
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ogling
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| v.（向…）抛媚眼，送秋波( ogle的现在分词 ) | |
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48
countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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glum
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| adj.闷闷不乐的，阴郁的 | |
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remarkably
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| ad.不同寻常地，相当地 | |
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austere
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| adj.艰苦的；朴素的，朴实无华的；严峻的 | |
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hermit
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| n.隐士，修道者；隐居 | |
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53
mingle
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| vt.使混合，使相混；vi.混合起来；相交往 | |
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54
mimicked
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| v.（尤指为了逗乐而）模仿( mimic的过去式和过去分词 )；酷似 | |
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mountebank
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| n.江湖郎中；骗子 | |
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56
chancellor
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| n.(英)大臣；法官；(德、奥)总理；大学校长 | |
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57
ballad
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| n.歌谣，民谣，流行爱情歌曲 | |
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affidavit
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| n.宣誓书 | |
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scowled
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| 怒视，生气地皱眉( scowl的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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eyebrows
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| 眉毛( eyebrow的名词复数 ) | |
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melee
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| n.混战；混战的人群 | |
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abominable
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| adj.可厌的，令人憎恶的 | |
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bawled
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| v.大叫，大喊( bawl的过去式和过去分词 )；放声大哭；大声叫出；叫卖（货物） | |
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jaws
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| n.口部；嘴 | |
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brutal
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| adj.残忍的，野蛮的，不讲理的 | |
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reigned
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| vi.当政，统治（reign的过去式形式） | |
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killing
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| n.巨额利润；突然赚大钱，发大财 | |
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bishop
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| n.主教，（国际象棋）象 | |
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sedate
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| adj.沉着的，镇静的，安静的 | |
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grooms
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| n.新郎( groom的名词复数 )；马夫v.照料或梳洗（马等）( groom的第三人称单数 )；使做好准备；训练；（给动物）擦洗 | |
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vexed
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| adj.争论不休的；（指问题等）棘手的；争论不休的问题；烦恼的v.使烦恼( vex的过去式和过去分词 )；使苦恼；使生气；详细讨论 | |
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ails
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| v.生病( ail的第三人称单数 )；感到不舒服；处境困难；境况不佳 | |
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veal
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| n.小牛肉 | |
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impair
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| v.损害，损伤；削弱，减少 | |
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lackeys
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| n.听差( lackey的名词复数 )；男仆（通常穿制服）；卑躬屈膝的人；被待为奴仆的人 | |
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begotten
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| v.为…之生父( beget的过去分词 )；产生，引起 | |
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underneath
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| adj.在...下面，在...底下；adv.在下面 | |
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remorse
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| n.痛恨，悔恨，自责 | |
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writhing
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| （因极度痛苦而）扭动或翻滚( writhe的现在分词 ) | |
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bosom
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| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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horrid
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| adj.可怕的；令人惊恐的；恐怖的；极讨厌的 | |
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virgins
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| 处女，童男( virgin的名词复数 )； 童贞玛利亚（耶稣之母） | |
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slaughtered
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| v.屠杀，杀戮，屠宰( slaughter的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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benefactors
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| n.捐助者，施主( benefactor的名词复数 )；恩人 | |
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lurch
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| n.突然向前或旁边倒；v.蹒跚而行 | |
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bounty
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| n.慷慨的赠予物，奖金；慷慨，大方；施与 | |
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cavil
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| v.挑毛病，吹毛求疵 | |
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wondrous
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| adj.令人惊奇的，奇妙的；adv.惊人地；异乎寻常地；令人惊叹地 | |
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loathsome
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| adj.讨厌的，令人厌恶的 | |
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foaming
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| adj.布满泡沫的；发泡 | |
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sullen
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| adj.愠怒的，闷闷不乐的，(天气等)阴沉的 | |
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parasites
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| 寄生物( parasite的名词复数 )； 靠他人为生的人； 诸虫 | |
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awfully
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| adv.可怕地，非常地，极端地 | |
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affected
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| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
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outright
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| adv.坦率地；彻底地；立即；adj.无疑的；彻底的 | |
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curry
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| n.咖哩粉，咖哩饭菜；v.用咖哩粉调味，用马栉梳，制革 | |
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buffet
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| n.自助餐；饮食柜台；餐台 | |
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retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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