“About the time of the events which I am going to narrate1, King Arthur’s reign2 was drawing to a close. Treason had thinned the ranks of the once united and famous knights3 of the Round Table. It is true that Sir Kaye, the seneschal, remained true, and Sir Ector de Mans, and Sir Caradoc, and Sir Tristram, and Sir Lancelot of the Lake, of whom it was said that ‘he was the kindest man that ever struck with sword; and he was the goodliest person that ever rode among the throng5 of knights; and he was the meekest6 man, and the gentlest, that did ever eat in hall among ladies; and he was the sternest knight4 to his mortal foe7 that ever laid lance in rest.’ But many seats at the Round Table that once were filled by brave warriors8 had become empty, and among these, that of Prince Mordred, who, it was rumoured9, meant to declare open war against his royal cousin and benefactor10.
“One night King Arthur sat at the Round Table in Tintagel Castle with his knights gathered round him, and Queen Guenever with her maidens11 by his side. At the beginning of the feast the king’s brow was clouded, for, although there was no lack of merriment or song, there was a want of the free-hearted courtesy and confidence of former days. Still the semblance12 of unabated good-fellowship was kept up, and the evening passed in gaiety until its close, when the king rose to retire. Taking in his hand a golden cup to pledge his guests, he was about to drink, when a shudder13 passed through his frame, and he cast the goblet14 away, exclaiming, ‘It is not wine, but blood! My father Merlin is among us, and there is evil in the coming days. Break we up our court, my peers! It is no time for feasting, but rather for fasting and for prayer.’
“The king glanced with a dark frown at the chair of his kinsman15 Mordred, but it was not empty! A strange, indistinct, shadowy form rested on it. It had no human shape, but a dreadful outline of something unearthly. Awe-struck and silent, the company at once broke up.
“On the following day, news of Mordred’s revolt arrived at Tintagel Castle, and day after day fresh rumours16 reached it of foes17 flocking in numbers to the rebel standard. The army increased as it advanced, but, strange to say, King Arthur showed no disposition18 to sally forth19 and meet the traitor20. It seemed as if his brave heart had quailed21 at last, and his good sword Excalibur had lost its magic virtue22. Some thought that he doubted the fidelity23 of those who still remained around him. But, whatever the cause might have been, King Arthur made no preparation, and indicated no feeling or intention. He lay still in his castle until the rebels had approached to the very gates. There was something terrible in this mysterious silence of the king, which had a tendency to overawe the rebels as they drew near, and remembered that they were about to match themselves against warriors who had grown old in fellowship with victory.
“When the main body of the invaders24 appeared, the great bell of the fortress25 at last rang out a stirring peal26, and before the barbican the trumpets27 sounded to horse. King Arthur then with his knights and men-at-arms, the best warriors of Britain, arose and sallied forth to fight in their last battle.
“Next evening a broken band of horsemen alone remained to tell of the death of their king and the destruction of all their hopes. They numbered several hundreds, but their hacked29 armour30, jaded31 steeds, and gaping32 wounds told that they were unfit to offer battle to any foe. They were in full flight, bearing a torn banner, still wet with the blood of King Arthur; yet they fled unwillingly33, as men who were unused to retreat, and scarce knew how to comport34 them in the novel circumstances. Their course was in the direction of the Lionesse, the tract35 of country called in the Cornish tongue Lethowsow. On they dashed, without uttering a word, over the bleak36 moors37 before them. Sometimes they halted to drink at a spring or tighten38 their girths, and occasionally a man fell behind from sheer exhaustion39. At night they encamped, after a hard ride of thirty miles. Next morning the flight was resumed, but the vindictive40 Mordred still thundered on in pursuit. Ere long they heard a trumpet28 sounding in their rear, and King Arthur’s men halted for a few minutes, with the half-formed design of facing the foe and selling their lives dearly. While they paused in gloomy irresolution41, gazing sternly on the advancing host, whose arms flashed back the rays of the morning sun, a mist rose up between them and their foes. It was a strange shadowy mist, without distinct form, yet not without resemblance to something ghostly. The knights at once recognised it as the shade of Merlin, the Great Wizard! Slowly the cloud uprose between the pursuers and pursued, effectually protecting the latter; nevertheless, although baffled, the former did not give up the chase.
“At last Mordred reached a lofty slope, from the top of which he descried42 his enemies retreating across the land of Lionesse. Mad with rage, he descended43 to the plain, where soft sunlight shone through luxuriant glades44 and across the green pastures, gladdening the hearts of man and beast. Nature was all peaceful, and gloriously beautiful, but Mordred’s eyes saw it not, his heart felt not the sweet influences. The bitterness induced by hatred45 and an evil conscience reigned46 within, as he urged his steed furiously onward47.
“Suddenly a terrible change occurred in the atmosphere, which became oppressively sultry and horrible, while low muttering thunders were heard, and heavings of the earth felt. At the same time the cloud gradually condensed in front of Mordred, and, assuming a distinct form, stood before him in the person of Merlin the Wizard. For a few seconds they stood face to face, frowning on each other in awful silence. Then Merlin raised his arm, and immediately the thunders and confused mutterings increased, until the earth began to undulate and rend48 as if the foundations of the world were destroyed. Great fissures49 appeared, and the rocks welled up like the waves of the sea. With a cry of agony the pursuers turned to fly. But it was too late. Already the earth was rent into fragments; it upheaved convulsively for a few seconds; then sank beneath the level of the deep, and the ocean rushed wildly over the land, leaving nothing behind to mark the spot where land had been, save the peaked and barren rocks you see before you, with the surge beating continually around them.”
“A most extraordinary tale, truly,” said Oliver. “Do you believe it has any foundation?”
“I believe not the supernatural parts of it, of course,” replied Tregarthen; “but there is something in the fact that the land of Cornwall has unquestionably given up part of its soil to the sea. You are aware, I suppose, that St. Michael’s Mount, the most beautiful and prominent object in Mounts Bay, has been described as ‘a hoare rock in a wood,’ about six miles from the sea, although it now stands in the bay; and this idea of a sunken land is borne out by the unquestionable fact that if we dig down a few feet into the sand of the shore near Penzance, we shall come on a black vegetable mould, full of woodland detritus50, such as branches, leaves of coppice wood, and nuts, together with carbonised roots and trunks of forest trees of larger growth; and these have been found as far out as the lowest tide would permit men to dig! In addition to this, portions of land have been overwhelmed by the sea near Penzance, in the memory of men now alive.”
“Hum!” said Oliver, stretching out his huge limbs like a giant basking51 in the sunshine, “I dare say you are correct in your suppositions, but I do not profess52 to be an antiquary, so that I won’t dispute the subject with you. At the same time, I may observe that it does seem to me as if there were a screw loose somewhere in the historical part of your narrative53, for methinks I have read, heard, or dreamt, that King Arthur was Mordred’s uncle, not his cousin, and that Mordred was slain54, and that the king was the victor, at the fatal field of Camelford, although the victory was purchased dearly—Arthur having been mortally wounded and carried back to Tintagel to die there. But, of course, I won’t pretend to doubt the truth of your narrative because of such trifling55 discrepancies56. As to the encroachment57 of the sea on the Cornish coast, and the evidences thereof in Mounts Bay, I raise no objection thereto, but I cannot help thinking that we want stronger proof of the existence of the land of Lionesse.”
“Why, Oliver,” said Tregarthen, laughing, “you began by saying that you would not dispute the subject with me, and in two minutes you have said enough to have justified58 a regular attack on my part, had I been so disposed. However, we have a long road before us, so I must protest against a passage of arms just now.”
Having finished breakfast, the two friends proceeded along the coast a few miles to Tolpedenpenwith. Here, in the midst of the finest scenery on the coast, they spent the greater part of the day, and then proceeded to Penberth Cove59, intending to secure a lodging60 for the night, order supper, and, while that was in preparation, pay a visit to the famous Logan Rock.
Penberth Cove is one of the prettiest little vales in the west of Cornwall. It is enriched with groups of trees and picturesque61 cottages, and possesses a luxuriant growth of shrubs62 and underwood, that almost conceals63 from view the streamlet, which is the chief cause of its fertility.
There were also, at the time we write of, one or two houses which, although not public inns, were open for the entertainment of travellers in a semi-private fashion. Here, therefore, our excursionists determined64 to put up for the night, with the widow of a fisherman who had perished in a storm while engaged in the herring fishery off the Irish coast. This good woman’s chief physical characteristic was rotundity, and her prominent mental attribute good-humour. She at once received the gentlemen hospitably65, and promised to prepare supper for them while they went to visit the far-famed Logan or Logging Rock, which lay in the vicinity.
This rock is one of those freaks of nature which furnish food for antiquaries, points of interest to strangers, and occupation to guides. Every one who goes to the Land’s End must needs visit the Logan Rock, if he would “do” the country properly; and if our book were a “Guide to Cornwall,” we should feel bound to describe it with much particularity, referring to its size, form, weight, and rocking quality, besides enlarging on the memorable66 incident in its career, when a wild officer of the navy displaced it from its pivot67 by means of seamen68 and crowbars, and was thereafter ordered to replace it (a herculean task, which he accomplished69 at great cost) on pain of we know not what penalties. But, as we make no pretensions70 to the important office of a guide, we pass this lion by, with the remark that Oliver and his friend visited it and rocked it, and then went back to Penberth Cove to sup on pilchards, after which followed a chat, then bed, sound sleep, daybreak and breakfast, and, finally, the road to Penzance, with bright sunshine, light hearts, and the music of a hundred larks71 ringing in the sky.
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1
narrate
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| v.讲，叙述 | |
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reign
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| n.统治时期，统治，支配，盛行；v.占优势 | |
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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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knight
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| n.骑士，武士；爵士 | |
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throng
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| n.人群，群众；v.拥挤，群集 | |
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meekest
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| adj.温顺的，驯服的( meek的最高级 ) | |
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foe
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| n.敌人，仇敌 | |
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warriors
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| 武士，勇士，战士( warrior的名词复数 ) | |
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rumoured
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| adj.谣传的；传说的；风 | |
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benefactor
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| n. 恩人，行善的人，捐助人 | |
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maidens
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| 处女( maiden的名词复数 )； 少女； 未婚女子； （板球运动）未得分的一轮投球 | |
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semblance
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| n.外貌，外表 | |
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shudder
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| v.战粟，震动，剧烈地摇晃；n.战粟，抖动 | |
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goblet
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| n.高脚酒杯 | |
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kinsman
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| n.男亲属 | |
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rumours
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| n.传闻( rumour的名词复数 )；风闻；谣言；谣传 | |
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foes
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| 敌人，仇敌( foe的名词复数 ) | |
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disposition
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| n.性情，性格；意向，倾向；排列，部署 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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traitor
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| n.叛徒，卖国贼 | |
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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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virtue
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| n.德行，美德；贞操；优点；功效，效力 | |
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fidelity
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| n.忠诚，忠实；精确 | |
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invaders
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| 入侵者，侵略者，侵入物( invader的名词复数 ) | |
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fortress
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| n.堡垒，防御工事 | |
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peal
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| n.钟声；v.鸣响 | |
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trumpets
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| 喇叭( trumpet的名词复数 )； 小号； 喇叭形物； （尤指）绽开的水仙花 | |
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trumpet
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| n.喇叭，喇叭声；v.吹喇叭，吹嘘 | |
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hacked
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| 生气 | |
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armour
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| （=armor）n.盔甲；装甲部队 | |
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jaded
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| adj.精疲力竭的；厌倦的；（因过饱或过多而）腻烦的；迟钝的 | |
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gaping
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| adj.口的；张口的；敞口的；多洞穴的v.目瞪口呆地凝视( gape的现在分词 )；张开，张大 | |
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unwillingly
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| adv.不情愿地 | |
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comport
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| vi.相称，适合 | |
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tract
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| n.传单，小册子，大片(土地或森林) | |
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bleak
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| adj.(天气)阴冷的；凄凉的；暗淡的 | |
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moors
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| v.停泊，系泊（船只）( moor的第三人称单数 ) | |
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tighten
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| v.(使)变紧；(使)绷紧 | |
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exhaustion
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| n.耗尽枯竭，疲惫，筋疲力尽，竭尽，详尽无遗的论述 | |
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vindictive
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| adj.有报仇心的，怀恨的，惩罚的 | |
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irresolution
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| n.不决断，优柔寡断，犹豫不定 | |
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descried
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| adj.被注意到的，被发现的，被看到的 | |
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descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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glades
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| n.林中空地( glade的名词复数 ) | |
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hatred
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| n.憎恶，憎恨，仇恨 | |
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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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onward
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| adj.向前的，前进的；adv.向前，前进，在先 | |
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rend
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| vt.把…撕开，割裂；把…揪下来，强行夺取 | |
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fissures
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| n.狭长裂缝或裂隙( fissure的名词复数 )；裂伤；分歧；分裂v.裂开( fissure的第三人称单数 ) | |
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detritus
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| n.碎石 | |
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basking
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| v.晒太阳，取暖( bask的现在分词 )；对…感到乐趣；因他人的功绩而出名；仰仗…的余泽 | |
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profess
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| v.声称，冒称，以...为业，正式接受入教，表明信仰 | |
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narrative
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| n.叙述，故事；adj.叙事的，故事体的 | |
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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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trifling
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| adj.微不足道的；没什么价值的 | |
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discrepancies
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| n.差异，不符合（之处），不一致（之处）( discrepancy的名词复数 ) | |
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encroachment
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| n.侵入，蚕食 | |
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justified
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| a.正当的，有理的 | |
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cove
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| n.小海湾，小峡谷 | |
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lodging
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| n.寄宿，住所；(大学生的)校外宿舍 | |
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picturesque
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| adj.美丽如画的，（语言）生动的，绘声绘色的 | |
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shrubs
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| 灌木( shrub的名词复数 ) | |
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conceals
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| v.隐藏，隐瞒，遮住( conceal的第三人称单数 ) | |
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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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hospitably
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| 亲切地，招待周到地，善于款待地 | |
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memorable
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| adj.值得回忆的，难忘的，特别的，显著的 | |
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pivot
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| v.在枢轴上转动；装枢轴，枢轴；adj.枢轴的 | |
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seamen
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| n.海员 | |
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accomplished
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| adj.有才艺的；有造诣的；达到了的 | |
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pretensions
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| 自称( pretension的名词复数 )； 自命不凡； 要求； 权力 | |
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larks
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| n.百灵科鸟（尤指云雀）( lark的名词复数 )；一大早就起床；鸡鸣即起；（因太费力而不想干时说）算了v.百灵科鸟（尤指云雀）( lark的第三人称单数 )；一大早就起床；鸡鸣即起；（因太费力而不想干时说）算了 | |
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