EVEN IN VEILLE DU PERE, word had reached us of the Pope's call. We had heard that masses of men were leaving their families, taking the Cross, as nearby as Avignon. And here they were... thearmy of Crusaders , marching through Veille du P?re!
Butwhat an army! More of a rabble1, like one of those multitudes prophesied2 in Isaiah or John. Men, women, children, carrying clubs and tools straight from home. And it was vast-thousands of them! Not fitted out with armor or uniforms, but shabbily, with red crosses either painted or sewn onto plain tunics3. And at the head of this assemblage... not some trumped-up duke or king in crested4 mail and armor sitting imperiously atop a massive charger. But a little man in a homespun monk5's robe, barefoot, bald, with a thatched crown, plopped atop a simple mule6.
It is their awful singing the Turks will turn and run from, I said, shaking my head, not their swords.
Sophie and I watched as the column began to cross the stone bridge on the outskirts7 of our town. Young and old, men and women; some carrying axes and mallets and old swords, some old knights9 parading in rusty10 armor. Carts, wagons11, tired mules12 and plow13 horses. Thousands of them.
Everyone in town stood and stared. Children ran out and danced around the approaching monk. No one had ever seen anything like it before. Nothing ever happened here!
I was struck with a kind of wonderment. Sophie, tell me, what do you see?
What do I see? Either the holiest army I've ever seen or the dumbest. In any case, it's the worst equipped.
But look, not a noble anywhere. Just common men and women.Like us.
Below us, the vast column wound into the main square and the queer monk at its head tugged14 his mule to a stop. A bearded knight8 helped him slide off. Father Leo, the town's priest, went up to greet him. The singing stopped, weapons and packs were laid down. Everyone in our town was pressed around the tiny square. To listen.
I am called Peter the Hermit15, the monk said in a surprisingly strong voice, urged by His Holiness Urban to lead an army of believers to the Holy Land to free the holy sepulchre from the heathen hordes16.Are there any believers here ?
He was pale and long nosed, resembling his mount, and his brown robes had holes in them, threadbare. Yet as he spoke17, he seemed to grow, his voice rising in power and conviction.
The arid18 lands of our Lord's great sacrifice have been defiled19 by the infidel Turk. Fields that were once milk and honey now lie spattered with the blood of Christian20 sacrifice. Churches have been burned and looted, sainted sites destroyed. The holiest treasures of our faith, the bones of saints, have been fed to dogs; cherished vials filled with drops of the Savior's own blood, poured into heaps of dung like spoiled wine.
Join us, many from the ranks called out loudly. Kill the pagans and sit with the Lord in Heaven.
For those who come, the monk named Peter went on, for those who put aside their earthly possessions and join our Crusade, His Holiness Urban promises unimaginable rewards. Riches, spoils, and honor in battle. His protection for your families who dutifully remain behind. An eternity21 in Heaven at the feet of our grateful Lord. And, most of all, freedom. Freedom from all servitude upon your return. Who will come, brave souls? The monk reached out his arms., his invitation almost irresistible22.
Shouts of acclamation rose throughout the square. People I had known for years shouted,I... I will come!
I saw Matt, the miller's older son, just sixteen, throw up his hands and hug his mother. And Jean the smith, who could crush iron in his hands, kneel and take the Cross. Several other people, some of them just boys, ran to get their possessions, then merged23 with the ranks. Everyone was shouting,Dei leveult ! God wills it!
My own blood surged. What a glorious adventure awaited. Riches and spoils picked up along the way. A chance to change my destiny in a single stroke. I felt my soul spring alive. I thought of gaining our freedom, and the treasures I might find on the Crusade. For a moment I almost raised my hand and called out,I will come! I will take the Cross.
But then I felt Sophie's hand pressing on mine. I lost my tongue.
Then the procession started up again. The ranks of farmers, masons, bakers24, maids, whores, jongleurs, and outlaws25 hoisting26 their sacks and makeshift weapons, swelling27 in song. The monk Peter mounted his donkey, blessed the town with a wave, then pointed28 east.
I watched them with a yearning29 I thought had long been put behind me. I had traveled in my youth. I'd been brought up by goliards, students and scholars who entertained from town to town. And there was something that I missed from those days. Something my life in Veille du P?re had stilled but not completely put aside.
I missed being free, and even more than that, I wanted freedom for Sophie and the children we would have one day.
1 rabble | |
n.乌合之众,暴民;下等人 | |
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2 prophesied | |
v.预告,预言( prophesy的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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3 tunics | |
n.(动植物的)膜皮( tunic的名词复数 );束腰宽松外衣;一套制服的短上衣;(天主教主教等穿的)短祭袍 | |
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4 crested | |
adj.有顶饰的,有纹章的,有冠毛的v.到达山顶(或浪峰)( crest的过去式和过去分词 );到达洪峰,达到顶点 | |
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5 monk | |
n.和尚,僧侣,修道士 | |
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6 mule | |
n.骡子,杂种,执拗的人 | |
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7 outskirts | |
n.郊外,郊区 | |
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8 knight | |
n.骑士,武士;爵士 | |
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9 knights | |
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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10 rusty | |
adj.生锈的;锈色的;荒废了的 | |
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11 wagons | |
n.四轮的运货马车( wagon的名词复数 );铁路货车;小手推车 | |
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12 mules | |
骡( mule的名词复数 ); 拖鞋; 顽固的人; 越境运毒者 | |
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13 plow | |
n.犁,耕地,犁过的地;v.犁,费力地前进[英]plough | |
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14 tugged | |
v.用力拉,使劲拉,猛扯( tug的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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15 hermit | |
n.隐士,修道者;隐居 | |
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16 hordes | |
n.移动着的一大群( horde的名词复数 );部落 | |
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17 spoke | |
n.(车轮的)辐条;轮辐;破坏某人的计划;阻挠某人的行动 v.讲,谈(speak的过去式);说;演说;从某种观点来说 | |
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18 arid | |
adj.干旱的;(土地)贫瘠的 | |
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19 defiled | |
v.玷污( defile的过去式和过去分词 );污染;弄脏;纵列行进 | |
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20 Christian | |
adj.基督教徒的;n.基督教徒 | |
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21 eternity | |
n.不朽,来世;永恒,无穷 | |
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22 irresistible | |
adj.非常诱人的,无法拒绝的,无法抗拒的 | |
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23 merged | |
(使)混合( merge的过去式和过去分词 ); 相融; 融入; 渐渐消失在某物中 | |
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24 bakers | |
n.面包师( baker的名词复数 );面包店;面包店店主;十三 | |
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25 outlaws | |
歹徒,亡命之徒( outlaw的名词复数 ); 逃犯 | |
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26 hoisting | |
起重,提升 | |
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27 swelling | |
n.肿胀 | |
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28 pointed | |
adj.尖的,直截了当的 | |
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29 yearning | |
a.渴望的;向往的;怀念的 | |
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