Even the squires1' table at the Abbey of St. Andrew's at Bordeaux was on a very sumptuous3 scale while the prince held his court there. Here first, after the meagre fare of Beaulieu and the stinted4 board of the Lady Loring, Alleyne learned the lengths to which luxury and refinement7 might be pushed. Roasted peacocks, with the feathers all carefully replaced, so that the bird lay upon the dish even as it had strutted8 in life, boars' heads with the tusks9 gilded10 and the mouth lined with silver foil, jellies in the shape of the Twelve Apostles, and a great pasty which formed an exact model of the king's new castle at Windsor—these were a few of the strange dishes which faced him. An archer11 had brought him a change of clothes from the cog, and he had already, with the elasticity12 of youth, shaken off the troubles and fatigues14 of the morning. A page from the inner banqueting-hall had come with word that their master intended to drink wine at the lodgings15 of the Lord Chandos that night, and that he desired his squires to sleep at the hotel of the “Half Moon” on the Rue16 des Apotres. Thither17 then they both set out in the twilight18 after the long course of juggling19 tricks and glee-singing with which the principal meal was concluded.
A thin rain was falling as the two youths, with their cloaks over their heads, made their way on foot through the streets of the old town, leaving their horses in the royal stables. An occasional oil lamp at the corner of a street, or in the portico20 of some wealthy burgher, threw a faint glimmer21 over the shining cobblestones, and the varied22 motley crowd who, in spite of the weather, ebbed23 and flowed along every highway. In those scattered24 circles of dim radiance might be seen the whole busy panorama25 of life in a wealthy and martial26 city. Here passed the round-faced burgher, swollen27 with prosperity, his sweeping28 dark-clothed gaberdine, flat velvet29 cap, broad leather belt and dangling30 pouch31 all speaking of comfort and of wealth. Behind him his serving wench, her blue whimple over her head, and one hand thrust forth32 to bear the lanthorn which threw a golden bar of light along her master's path. Behind them a group of swaggering, half-drunken Yorkshire dalesmen, speaking a dialect which their own southland countrymen could scarce comprehend, their jerkins marked with the pelican33, which showed that they had come over in the train of the north-country Stapletons. The burgher glanced back at their fierce faces and quickened his step, while the girl pulled her whimple closer round her, for there was a meaning in their wild eyes, as they stared at the purse and the maiden34, which men of all tongues could understand. Then came archers35 of the guard, shrill-voiced women of the camp, English pages with their fair skins and blue wondering eyes, dark-robed friars, lounging men-at-arms, swarthy loud-tongued Gascon serving-men, seamen36 from the river, rude peasants of the Medoc, and becloaked and befeathered squires of the court, all jostling and pushing in an ever-changing, many-colored stream, while English, French, Welsh, Basque, and the varied dialects of Gascony and Guienne filled the air with their babel. From time to time the throng37 would be burst asunder38 and a lady's horse-litter would trot39 past towards the abbey, or there would come a knot of torch-bearing archers walking in front of Gascon baron40 or English knight41, as he sought his lodgings after the palace revels42. Clatter43 of hoofs44, clinking of weapons, shouts from the drunken brawlers, and high laughter of women, they all rose up, like the mist from a marsh46, out of the crowded streets of the dim-lit city.
One couple out of the moving throng especially engaged the attention of the two young squires, the more so as they were going in their own direction and immediately in front of them. They consisted of a man and a girl, the former very tall with rounded shoulders, a limp of one foot, and a large flat object covered with dark cloth under his arm. His companion was young and straight, with a quick, elastic13 step and graceful48 bearing, though so swathed in a black mantle49 that little could be seen of her face save a flash of dark eyes and a curve of raven50 hair. The tall man leaned heavily upon her to take the weight off his tender foot, while he held his burden betwixt himself and the wall, cuddling it jealously to his side, and thrusting forward his young companion to act as a buttress51 whenever the pressure of the crowd threatened to bear him away. The evident anxiety of the man, the appearance of his attendant, and the joint52 care with which they defended their concealed53 possession, excited the interest of the two young Englishmen who walked within hand-touch of them.
“Courage, child!” they heard the tall man exclaim in strange hybrid54 French. “If we can win another sixty paces we are safe.”
“Hold it safe, father,” the other answered, in the same soft, mincing55 dialect. “We have no cause for fear.”
“Verily, they are heathens and barbarians56,” cried the man; “mad, howling, drunken barbarians! Forty more paces, Tita mia, and I swear to the holy Eloi, patron of all learned craftsmen57, that I will never set foot over my door again until the whole swarm58 are safely hived in their camp of Dax, or wherever else they curse with their presence. Twenty more paces, my treasure! Ah, my God! how they push and brawl45! Get in their way, Tita mia! Put your little elbow bravely out! Set your shoulders squarely against them, girl! Why should you give way to these mad islanders? Ah, cospetto! we are ruined and destroyed!”
The crowd had thickened in front, so that the lame59 man and the girl had come to a stand. Several half-drunken English archers, attracted, as the squires had been, by their singular appearance, were facing towards them, and peering at them through the dim light.
“By the three kings!” cried one, “here is an old dotard shrew to have so goodly a crutch60! Use the leg that God hath given you, man, and do not bear so heavily upon the wench.”
“Twenty devils fly away with him!” shouted another. “What, how, man! are brave archers to go maidless while an old man uses one as a walking-staff?”
“Come with me, my honey-bird!” cried a third, plucking at the girl's mantle.
“Nay61, with me, my heart's desire!” said the first. “By St. George! our life is short, and we should be merry while we may. May I never see Chester Bridge again, if she is not a right winsome62 lass!”
“What hath the old toad63 under his arm?” cried one of the others. “He hugs it to him as the devil hugged the pardoner.”
“Let us see, old bag of bones; let us see what it is that you have under your arm!” They crowded in upon him, while he, ignorant of their language, could but clutch the girl with one hand and the parcel with the other, looking wildly about in search of help.
“Nay, lads, nay!” cried Ford64, pushing back the nearest archer. “This is but scurvy65 conduct. Keep your hands off, or it will be the worse for you.”
“Keep your tongue still, or it will be the worse for you,” shouted the most drunken of the archers. “Who are you to spoil sport?”
“A raw squire2, new landed,” said another. “By St. Thomas of Kent! we are at the beck of our master, but we are not to be ordered by every babe whose mother hath sent him as far as Aquitaine.”
“Oh, gentlemen,” cried the girl in broken French, “for dear Christ's sake stand by us, and do not let these terrible men do us an injury.”
“Have no fears, lady,” Alleyne answered. “We shall see that all is well with you. Take your hand from the girl's wrist, you north-country rogue66!”
“Hold to her, Wat!” said a great black-bearded man-at-arms, whose steel breast-plate glimmered67 in the dusk. “Keep your hands from your bodkins, you two, for that was my trade before you were born, and, by God's soul! I will drive a handful of steel through you if you move a finger.”
“Thank God!” said Alleyne suddenly, as he spied in the lamp-light a shock of blazing red hair which fringed a steel cap high above the heads of the crowd. “Here is John, and Aylward, too! Help us, comrades, for there is wrong being done to this maid and to the old man.”
“Hola, mon petit,” said the old bowman, pushing his way through the crowd, with the huge forester at his heels. “What is all this, then? By the twang of string! I think that you will have some work upon your hands if you are to right all the wrongs that you may see upon this side of the water. It is not to be thought that a troop of bowmen, with the wine buzzing in their ears, will be as soft-spoken as so many young clerks in an orchard68. When you have been a year with the Company you will think less of such matters. But what is amiss here? The provost-marshal with his archers is coming this way, and some of you may find yourselves in the stretch-neck, if you take not heed69.”
“Why, it is old Sam Aylward of the White Company!” shouted the man-at-arms. “Why, Samkin, what hath come upon thee? I can call to mind the day when you were as roaring a blade as ever called himself a free companion. By my soul! from Limoges to Navarre, who was there who would kiss a wench or cut a throat as readily as bowman Aylward of Hawkwood's company?”
“Like enough, Peter,” said Aylward, “and, by my hilt! I may not have changed so much. But it was ever a fair loose and a clear mark with me. The wench must be willing, or the man must be standing70 up against me, else, by these ten finger bones! either were safe enough for me.”
A glance at Aylward's resolute71 face, and at the huge shoulders of Hordle John, had convinced the archers that there was little to be got by violence. The girl and the old man began to shuffle72 on in the crowd without their tormentors venturing to stop them. Ford and Alleyne followed slowly behind them, but Aylward caught the latter by the shoulder.
“By my hilt! camarade,” said he, “I hear that you have done great things at the Abbey to-day, but I pray you to have a care, for it was I who brought you into the Company, and it would be a black day for me if aught were to befall you.”
“Nay, Aylward, I will have a care.”
“Thrust not forward into danger too much, mon petit. In a little time your wrist will be stronger and your cut more shrewd. There will be some of us at the 'Rose de Guienne' to-night, which is two doors from the hotel of the 'Half Moon,' so if you would drain a cup with a few simple archers you will be right welcome.”
Alleyne promised to be there if his duties would allow, and then, slipping through the crowd, he rejoined Ford, who was standing in talk with the two strangers, who had now reached their own doorstep.
“Brave young signor,” cried the tall man, throwing his arms round Alleyne, “how can we thank you enough for taking our parts against those horrible drunken barbarians. What should we have done without you? My Tita would have been dragged away, and my head would have been shivered into a thousand fragments.”
“Nay, I scarce think that they would have mishandled you so,” said Alleyne in surprise.
“Ho, ho!” cried he with a high crowing laugh, “it is not the head upon my shoulders that I think of. Cospetto! no. It is the head under my arm which you have preserved.”
“Perhaps the signori would deign73 to come under our roof, father,” said the maiden. “If we bide74 here, who knows that some fresh tumult75 may not break out.”
“Well said, Tita! Well said, my girl! I pray you, sirs, to honor my unworthy roof so far. A light, Giacomo! There are five steps up. Now two more. So! Here we are at last in safety. Corpo di Bacco! I would not have given ten maravedi for my head when those children of the devil were pushing us against the wall. Tita mia, you have been a brave girl, and it was better that you should be pulled and pushed than that my head should be broken.”
“Yes indeed, father,” said she earnestly.
“But those English! Ach! Take a Goth, a Hun, and a Vandal, mix them together and add a Barbary rover; then take this creature and make him drunk—and you have an Englishman. My God! were ever such people upon earth! What place is free from them? I hear that they swarm in Italy even as they swarm here. Everywhere you will find them, except in heaven.”
“Dear father,” cried Tita, still supporting the angry old man, as he limped up the curved oaken stair. “You must not forget that these good signori who have preserved us are also English.”
“Ah, yes. My pardon, sirs! Come into my rooms here. There are some who might find some pleasure in these paintings, but I learn the art of war is the only art which is held in honor in your island.”
The low-roofed, oak-panelled room into which he conducted them was brilliantly lit by four scented77 oil lamps. Against the walls, upon the table, on the floor, and in every part of the chamber78 were great sheets of glass painted in the most brilliant colors. Ford and Edricson gazed around them in amazement79, for never had they seen such magnificent works of art.
“You like them then,” the lame artist cried, in answer to the look of pleasure and of surprise in their faces. “There are then some of you who have a taste for such trifling80.”
“I could not have believed it,” exclaimed Alleyne. “What color! What outlines! See to this martyrdom of the holy Stephen, Ford. Could you not yourself pick up one of these stones which lie to the hand of the wicked murtherers?”
“And see this stag, Alleyne, with the cross betwixt its horns. By my faith! I have never seen a better one at the Forest of Bere.”
“And the green of this grass—how bright and clear! Why all the painting that I have seen is but child's play beside this. This worthy76 gentleman must be one of those great painters of whom I have oft heard brother Bartholomew speak in the old days at Beaulieu.”
The dark mobile face of the artist shone with pleasure at the unaffected delight of the two young Englishmen. His daughter had thrown off her mantle and disclosed a face of the finest and most delicate Italian beauty, which soon drew Ford's eyes from the pictures in front of him. Alleyne, however, continued with little cries of admiration81 and of wonderment to turn from the walls to the table and yet again to the walls.
“What think you of this, young sir?” asked the painter, tearing off the cloth which concealed the flat object which he had borne beneath his arm. It was a leaf-shaped sheet of glass bearing upon it a face with a halo round it, so delicately outlined, and of so perfect a tint6, that it might have been indeed a human face which gazed with sad and thoughtful eyes upon the young squire. He clapped his hands, with that thrill of joy which true art will ever give to a true artist.
“It is great!” he cried. “It is wonderful! But I marvel82, sir, that you should have risked a work of such beauty and value by bearing it at night through so unruly a crowd.”
“I have indeed been rash,” said the artist. “Some wine, Tita, from the Florence flask83! Had it not been for you, I tremble to think of what might have come of it. See to the skin tint: it is not to be replaced, for paint as you will, it is not once in a hundred times that it is not either burned too brown in the furnace or else the color will not hold, and you get but a sickly white. There you can see the very veins84 and the throb85 of the blood. Yes, diavolo! if it had broken, my heart would have broken too. It is for the choir86 window in the church of St. Remi, and we had gone, my little helper and I, to see if it was indeed of the size for the stonework. Night had fallen ere we finished, and what could we do save carry it home as best we might? But you, young sir, you speak as if you too knew something of the art.”
“So little that I scarce dare speak of it in your presence,” Alleyne answered. “I have been cloister-bred, and it was no very great matter to handle the brush better than my brother novices87.”
“There are pigments88, brush, and paper,” said the old artist. “I do not give you glass, for that is another matter, and takes much skill in the mixing of colors. Now I pray you to show me a touch of your art. I thank you, Tita! The Venetian glasses, cara mia, and fill them to the brim. A seat, signor!”
While Ford, in his English-French, was conversing89 with Tita in her Italian-French, the old man was carefully examining his precious head to see that no scratch had been left upon its surface. When he glanced up again, Alleyne had, with a few bold strokes of the brush, tinted5 in a woman's face and neck upon the white sheet in front of him.
“Diavolo!” exclaimed the old artist, standing with his head on one side, “you have power; yes, cospetto! you have power, it is the face of an angel!”
“It is the face of the Lady Maude Loring!” cried Ford, even more astonished.
“Why, on my faith, it is not unlike her!” said Alleyne, in some confusion.
“Ah! a portrait! So much the better. Young man, I am Agostino Pisano, the son of Andrea Pisano, and I say again that you have power. Further, I say, that, if you will stay with me, I will teach you all the secrets of the glass-stainers' mystery: the pigments and their thickening, which will fuse into the glass and which will not, the furnace and the glazing—every trick and method you shall know.”
“I would be right glad to study under such a master,” said Alleyne; “but I am sworn to follow my lord whilst this war lasts.”
“War! war!” cried the old Italian. “Ever this talk of war. And the men that you hold to be great—what are they? Have I not heard their names? Soldiers, butchers, destroyers! Ah, per Bacco! we have men in Italy who are in very truth great. You pull down, you despoil90; but they build up, they restore. Ah, if you could but see my own dear Pisa, the Duomo, the cloisters91 of Campo Santo, the high Campanile, with the mellow92 throb of her bells upon the warm Italian air! Those are the works of great men. And I have seen them with my own eyes, these very eyes which look upon you. I have seen Andrea Orcagna, Taddeo Gaddi, Giottino, Stefano, Simone Memmi—men whose very colors I am not worthy to mix. And I have seen the aged47 Giotto, and he in turn was pupil to Cimabue, before whom there was no art in Italy, for the Greeks were brought to paint the chapel93 of the Gondi at Florence. Ah, signori, there are the real great men whose names will be held in honor when your soldiers are shown to have been the enemies of humankind.”
“Faith, sir,” said Ford, “there is something to say for the soldiers also, for, unless they be defended, how are all these gentlemen whom you have mentioned to preserve the pictures which they have painted?”
“And all these!” said Alleyne. “Have you indeed done them all?—and where are they to go?”
“Yes, signor, they are all from my hand. Some are, as you see, upon one sheet, and some are in many pieces which may fasten together. There are some who do but paint upon the glass, and then, by placing another sheet of glass upon the top and fastening it, they keep the air from their painting. Yet I hold that the true art of my craft lies as much in the furnace as in the brush. See this rose window, which is from the model of the Church of the Holy Trinity at Vendome, and this other of the 'Finding of the Grail,' which is for the apse of the Abbey church. Time was when none but my countrymen could do these things; but there is Clement94 of Chartres and others in France who are very worthy workmen. But, ah! there is that ever shrieking95 brazen96 tongue which will not let us forget for one short hour that it is the arm of the savage97, and not the hand of the master, which rules over the world.”
A stern, clear bugle98 call had sounded close at hand to summon some following together for the night.
“It is a sign to us as well,” said Ford. “I would fain stay here forever amid all these beautiful things—” staring hard at the blushing Tita as he spoke—“but we must be back at our lord's hostel99 ere he reach it.” Amid renewed thanks and with promises to come again, the two squires bade their leave of the old Italian glass-stainer and his daughter. The streets were clearer now, and the rain had stopped, so they made their way quickly from the Rue du Roi, in which their new friends dwelt, to the Rue des Apotres, where the hostel of the “Half Moon” was situated100.
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1
squires
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| n.地主，乡绅( squire的名词复数 ) | |
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squire
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| n.护卫, 侍从, 乡绅 | |
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sumptuous
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| adj.豪华的，奢侈的，华丽的 | |
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stinted
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| v.限制，节省（stint的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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tinted
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| adj. 带色彩的 动词tint的过去式和过去分词 | |
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tint
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| n.淡色，浅色；染发剂；vt.着以淡淡的颜色 | |
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refinement
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| n.文雅；高尚；精美；精制；精炼 | |
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strutted
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| 趾高气扬地走，高视阔步( strut的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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tusks
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| n.（象等动物的）长牙( tusk的名词复数 )；獠牙；尖形物；尖头 | |
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gilded
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| a.镀金的，富有的 | |
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archer
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| n.射手，弓箭手 | |
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elasticity
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| n.弹性，伸缩力 | |
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elastic
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| n.橡皮圈，松紧带；adj.有弹性的；灵活的 | |
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fatigues
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| n.疲劳( fatigue的名词复数 )；杂役；厌倦；（士兵穿的）工作服 | |
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lodgings
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| n. 出租的房舍, 寄宿舍 | |
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rue
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| n.懊悔，芸香，后悔；v.后悔，悲伤，懊悔 | |
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thither
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| adv.向那里；adj.在那边的，对岸的 | |
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twilight
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| n.暮光，黄昏；暮年，晚期，衰落时期 | |
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juggling
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| n. 欺骗, 杂耍(=jugglery) adj. 欺骗的, 欺诈的 动词juggle的现在分词 | |
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portico
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| n.柱廊，门廊 | |
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glimmer
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| v.发出闪烁的微光；n.微光，微弱的闪光 | |
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varied
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| adj.多样的，多变化的 | |
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ebbed
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| （指潮水）退( ebb的过去式和过去分词 )； 落； 减少； 衰落 | |
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scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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panorama
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| n.全景，全景画，全景摄影，全景照片[装置] | |
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martial
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| adj.战争的，军事的，尚武的，威武的 | |
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swollen
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| adj.肿大的，水涨的；v.使变大，肿胀 | |
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sweeping
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| adj.范围广大的，一扫无遗的 | |
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velvet
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| n.丝绒，天鹅绒；adj.丝绒制的，柔软的 | |
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dangling
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| 悬吊着( dangle的现在分词 )； 摆动不定； 用某事物诱惑…； 吊胃口 | |
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pouch
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| n.小袋，小包，囊状袋；vt.装...入袋中，用袋运输；vi.用袋送信件 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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pelican
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| n.鹈鹕，伽蓝鸟 | |
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maiden
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| n.少女，处女；adj.未婚的，纯洁的，无经验的 | |
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archers
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| n.弓箭手，射箭运动员( archer的名词复数 ) | |
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seamen
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| n.海员 | |
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throng
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| n.人群，群众；v.拥挤，群集 | |
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asunder
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| adj.分离的，化为碎片 | |
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trot
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| n.疾走，慢跑；n.老太婆；现成译本；(复数）trots:腹泻（与the 连用）；v.小跑，快步走，赶紧 | |
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baron
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| n.男爵；(商业界等)巨头，大王 | |
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knight
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| n.骑士，武士；爵士 | |
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42
revels
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| n.作乐( revel的名词复数 )；狂欢；着迷；陶醉v.作乐( revel的第三人称单数 )；狂欢；着迷；陶醉 | |
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43
clatter
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| v./n.(使)发出连续而清脆的撞击声 | |
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hoofs
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| n.（兽的）蹄，马蹄( hoof的名词复数 )v.（兽的）蹄，马蹄( hoof的第三人称单数 ) | |
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45
brawl
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| n.大声争吵，喧嚷；v.吵架，对骂 | |
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marsh
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| n.沼泽，湿地 | |
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aged
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| adj.年老的，陈年的 | |
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graceful
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| adj.优美的，优雅的；得体的 | |
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mantle
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| n.斗篷，覆罩之物，罩子；v.罩住，覆盖，脸红 | |
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raven
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| n.渡鸟，乌鸦；adj.乌亮的 | |
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buttress
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| n.支撑物；v.支持 | |
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joint
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| adj.联合的，共同的；n.关节，接合处；v.连接，贴合 | |
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concealed
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| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
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hybrid
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| n.(动，植）杂种，混合物 | |
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mincing
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| adj.矫饰的；v.切碎；切碎 | |
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barbarians
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| n.野蛮人( barbarian的名词复数 )；外国人；粗野的人；无教养的人 | |
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craftsmen
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| n. 技工 | |
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58
swarm
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| n.(昆虫)等一大群；vi.成群飞舞；蜂拥而入 | |
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lame
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| adj.跛的，(辩解、论据等)无说服力的 | |
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crutch
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| n.T字形拐杖；支持，依靠，精神支柱 | |
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nay
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| adv.不；n.反对票，投反对票者 | |
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winsome
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| n.迷人的，漂亮的 | |
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toad
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| n.蟾蜍，癞蛤蟆 | |
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Ford
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| n.浅滩，水浅可涉处；v.涉水，涉过 | |
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scurvy
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| adj.下流的，卑鄙的，无礼的；n.坏血病 | |
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rogue
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| n.流氓；v.游手好闲 | |
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glimmered
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| v.发闪光，发微光( glimmer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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orchard
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| n.果园，果园里的全部果树，(美俚)棒球场 | |
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heed
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| v.注意，留意；n.注意，留心 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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resolute
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| adj.坚决的，果敢的 | |
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shuffle
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| n.拖著脚走，洗纸牌；v.拖曳，慢吞吞地走 | |
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deign
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| v. 屈尊, 惠允 ( 做某事) | |
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bide
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| v.忍耐；等候；住 | |
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tumult
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| n.喧哗；激动，混乱；吵闹 | |
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worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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scented
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| adj.有香味的；洒香水的；有气味的v.嗅到(scent的过去分词) | |
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chamber
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| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
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amazement
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| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
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trifling
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| adj.微不足道的；没什么价值的 | |
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admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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82
marvel
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| vi.(at)惊叹vt.感到惊异；n.令人惊异的事 | |
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flask
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| n.瓶，火药筒，砂箱 | |
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84
veins
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| n.纹理；矿脉( vein的名词复数 )；静脉；叶脉；纹理 | |
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throb
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| v.震颤，颤动；(急速强烈地)跳动，搏动 | |
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choir
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| n.唱诗班，唱诗班的席位，合唱团，舞蹈团；v.合唱 | |
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novices
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| n.新手( novice的名词复数 )；初学修士（或修女）；（修会等的）初学生；尚未赢过大赛的赛马 | |
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pigments
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| n.（粉状）颜料( pigment的名词复数 )；天然色素 | |
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conversing
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| v.交谈，谈话( converse的现在分词 ) | |
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despoil
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| v.夺取，抢夺 | |
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cloisters
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| n.（学院、修道院、教堂等建筑的）走廊( cloister的名词复数 )；回廊；修道院的生活；隐居v.隐退，使与世隔绝( cloister的第三人称单数 ) | |
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mellow
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| adj.柔和的；熟透的；v.变柔和；(使)成熟 | |
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chapel
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| n.小教堂，殡仪馆 | |
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clement
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| adj.仁慈的；温和的 | |
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95
shrieking
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| v.尖叫( shriek的现在分词 ) | |
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brazen
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| adj.厚脸皮的，无耻的，坚硬的 | |
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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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bugle
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| n.军号，号角，喇叭；v.吹号，吹号召集 | |
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hostel
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| n.（学生）宿舍，招待所 | |
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100
situated
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| adj.坐落在...的，处于某种境地的 | |
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