There was a little while of restless, rustling1 silence, during which the Constable2 took his place in the seat appointed for him directly in front of and below the King's throne. A moment or two when even the restlessness and the rustling were quieted, and then the King leaned forward and spoke3 to the Constable, who immediately called out, in a loud, clear voice.
“Let them go!” Then again, “Let them go!” Then, for the third and last time, “Let them go and do their endeavor, in God's name!”
At this third command the combatants, each of whom had till that moment been sitting as motionless as a statue of iron, tightened4 rein5, and rode slowly and deliberately6 forward without haste, yet without hesitation7, until they met in the very middle of the lists.
In the battle which followed, Myles fought with the long sword, the Earl with the hand-gisarm for which he had asked. The moment they met, the combat was opened, and for a time nothing was heard but the thunderous clashing and clamor of blows, now and then beating intermittently8, now and then pausing. Occasionally, as the combatants spurred together, checked, wheeled, and recovered, they would be hidden for a moment in a misty9 veil of dust, which, again drifting down the wind, perhaps revealed them drawn10 a little apart, resting their panting horses. Then, again, they would spur together, striking as they passed, wheeling and striking again.
Upon the scaffolding all was still, only now and then for the buzz of muffled11 exclamations12 or applause of those who looked on. Mostly the applause was from Myles's friends, for from the very first he showed and steadily13 maintained his advantage over the older man. “Hah! well struck! well recovered!” “Look ye! the sword bit that time!” “Nay, look, saw ye him pass the point of the gisarm?” Then, “Falworth! Falworth!” as some more than usually skilful14 stroke or parry occurred.
Meantime Myles's father sat straining his sightless eyeballs, as though to pierce his body's darkness with one ray of light that would show him how his boy held his own in the fight, and Lord Mackworth, leaning with his lips close to the blind man's ear, told him point by point how the battle stood.
“Fear not, Gilbert,” said he at each pause in the fight. “He holdeth his own right well.” Then, after a while: “God is with us, Gilbert. Alban is twice wounded and his horse faileth. One little while longer and the victory is ours!”
A longer and more continuous interval15 of combat followed this last assurance, during which Myles drove the assault fiercely and unrelentingly as though to overbear his enemy by the very power and violence of the blows he delivered. The Earl defended himself desperately16, but was borne back, back, back, farther and farther. Every nerve of those who looked on was stretched to breathless tensity, when, almost as his enemy was against the barriers, Myles paused and rested.
“Out upon it!” exclaimed the Earl of Mackworth, almost shrilly17 in his excitement, as the sudden lull18 followed the crashing of blows. “Why doth the boy spare him? That is thrice he hath given him grace to recover; an he had pushed the battle that time he had driven him back against the barriers.”
It was as the Earl had said; Myles had three times given his enemy grace when victory was almost in his very grasp. He had three times spared him, in spite of all he and those dear to him must suffer should his cruel and merciless enemy gain the victory. It was a false and foolish generosity19, partly the fault of his impulsive20 youth—more largely of his romantic training in the artificial code of French chivalry21. He felt that the battle was his, and so he gave his enemy these three chances to recover, as some chevalier or knight22-errant of romance might have done, instead of pushing the combat to a mercifully speedy end—and his foolish generosity cost him dear.
In the momentary23 pause that had thus stirred the Earl of Mackworth to a sudden outbreak, the Earl of Alban sat upon his panting, sweating war-horse, facing his powerful young enemy at about twelve paces distant. He sat as still as a rock, holding his gisarm poised24 in front of him. He had, as the Earl of Mackworth had said, been wounded twice, and each time with the point of the sword, so much more dangerous than a direct cut with the weapon. One wound was beneath his armor, and no one but he knew how serious it might be; the other was under the overlapping25 of the epauhere, and from it a finger's-breadth of blood ran straight down his side and over the housings of his horse. From without, the still motionless iron figure appeared calm and expressionless; within, who knows what consuming blasts of hate, rage, and despair swept his heart as with a fiery26 whirlwind.
As Myles looked at the motionless, bleeding figure, his breast swelled27 with pity. “My Lord,” said he, “thou art sore wounded and the fight is against thee; wilt28 thou not yield thee?”
No one but that other heard the speech, and no one but Myles heard the answer that came back, hollow, cavernous, “Never, thou dog! Never!”
Then in an instant, as quick as a flash, his enemy spurred straight upon Myles, and as he spurred he struck a last desperate, swinging blow, in which he threw in one final effort all the strength of hate, of fury, and of despair. Myles whirled his horse backward, warding29 the blow with his shield as he did so. The blade glanced from the smooth face of the shield, and, whether by mistake or not, fell straight and true, and with almost undiminished force, upon the neck of Myles's war-horse, and just behind the ears. The animal staggered forward, and then fell upon its knees, and at the same instant the other, as though by the impetus30 of the rush, dashed full upon it with all the momentum31 lent by the weight of iron it carried. The shock was irresistible32, and the stunned33 and wounded horse was flung upon the ground, rolling over and over. As his horse fell, Myles wrenched34 one of his feet out of the stirrup; the other caught for an instant, and he was flung headlong with stunning36 violence, his armor crashing as he fell. In the cloud of dust that arose no one could see just what happened, but that what was done was done deliberately no one doubted. The earl, at once checking and spurring his foaming37 charger, drove the iron-shod war-horse directly over Myles's prostrate38 body. Then, checking him fiercely with the curb39, reined40 him back, the hoofs41 clashing and crashing, over the figure beneath. So he had ridden over the father at York, and so he rode over the son at Smithfield.
Myles, as he lay prostrate and half stunned by his fall, had seen his enemy thus driving his rearing horse down upon him, but was not able to defend himself. A fallen knight in full armor was utterly42 powerless to rise without assistance; Myles lay helpless in the clutch of the very iron that was his defence. He closed his eyes involuntarily, and then horse and rider were upon him. There was a deafening43, sparkling crash, a glimmering44 faintness, then another crash as the horse was reined furiously back again, and then a humming stillness.
In a moment, upon the scaffolding all was a tumult45 of uproar46 and confusion, shouting and gesticulation; only the King sat calm, sullen47, impassive. The Earl wheeled his horse and sat for a moment or two as though to make quite sure that he knew the King's mind. The blow that had been given was foul48, unknightly, but the King gave no sign either of acquiescence49 or rebuke50; he had willed that Myles was to die.
Then the Earl turned again, and rode deliberately up to his prostrate enemy.
When Myles opened his eyes after that moment of stunning silence, it was to see the other looming51 above him on his war-horse, swinging his gisarm for one last mortal blow—pitiless, merciless.
The sight of that looming peril52 brought back Myles's wandering senses like a flash of lightning. He flung up his shield, and met the blow even as it descended53, turning it aside. It only protracted54 the end.
Once more the Earl of Alban raised the gisarm, swinging it twice around his head before he struck. This time, though the shield glanced it, the blow fell upon the shoulder-piece, biting through the steel plate and leathern jack55 beneath even to the bone. Then Myles covered his head with his shield as a last protecting chance for life.
For the third time the Earl swung the blade flashing, and then it fell, straight and true, upon the defenceless body, just below the left arm, biting deep through the armor plates. For an instant the blade stuck fast, and that instant was Myles's salvation56. Under the agony of the blow he gave a muffled cry, and almost instinctively57 grasped the shaft58 of the weapon with both hands. Had the Earl let go his end of the weapon, he would have won the battle at his leisure and most easily; as it was, he struggled violently to wrench35 the gisarm away from Myles. In that short, fierce struggle Myles was dragged to his knees, and then, still holding the weapon with one hand, he clutched the trappings of the Earl's horse with the other. The next moment he was upon his feet. The other struggled to thrust him away, but Myles, letting go the gisarm, which he held with his left hand, clutched him tightly by the sword-belt in the intense, vise-like grip of despair. In vain the Earl strove to beat him loose with the shaft of the gisarm, in vain he spurred and reared his horse to shake him off; Myles held him tight, in spite of all his struggles.
He felt neither the streaming blood nor the throbbing59 agony of his wounds; every faculty60 of soul, mind, body, every power of life, was centered in one intense, burning effort. He neither felt, thought, nor reasoned, but clutching, with the blindness of instinct, the heavy, spiked61, iron-headed mace62 that hung at the Earl's saddle-bow, he gave it one tremendous wrench that snapped the plaited leathern thongs63 that held it as though they were skeins of thread. Then, grinding his teeth as with a spasm64, he struck as he had never struck before—once, twice, thrice full upon the front of the helmet. Crash! crash! And then, even as the Earl toppled sidelong, crash! And the iron plates split and crackled under the third blow. Myles had one flashing glimpse of an awful face, and then the saddle was empty.
Then, as he held tight to the horse, panting, dizzy, sick to death, he felt the hot blood gushing65 from his side, filling his body armor, and staining the ground upon which he stood. Still he held tightly to the saddle-bow of the fallen man's horse until, through his glimmering sight, he saw the Marshal, the Lieutenant66, and the attendants gather around him. He heard the Marshal ask him, in a voice that sounded faint and distant, if he was dangerously wounded. He did not answer, and one of the attendants, leaping from his horse, opened the umbril of his helmet, disclosing the dull, hollow eyes, the ashy, colorless lips, and the waxy67 forehead, upon which stood great beads68 of sweat.
“Water! water!” he cried, hoarsely69; “give me to drink!” Then, quitting his hold upon the horse, he started blindly across the lists towards the gate of the barrier. A shadow that chilled his heart seemed to fall upon him. “It is death,” he muttered; then he stopped, then swayed for an instant, and then toppled headlong, crashing as he fell.
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收听单词发音
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1
rustling
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| n. 瑟瑟声，沙沙声 adj. 发沙沙声的 | |
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constable
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| n.(英国)警察，警官 | |
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spoke
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| 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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4
tightened
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| 收紧( tighten的过去式和过去分词 )； （使）变紧； （使）绷紧； 加紧 | |
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rein
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| n.疆绳，统治，支配；vt.以僵绳控制，统治 | |
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6
deliberately
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| adv.审慎地；蓄意地；故意地 | |
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7
hesitation
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| n.犹豫，踌躇 | |
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intermittently
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| adv.间歇地；断断续续 | |
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misty
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| adj.雾蒙蒙的，有雾的 | |
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drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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11
muffled
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| adj.（声音）被隔的；听不太清的；（衣服）裹严的；蒙住的v.压抑，捂住( muffle的过去式和过去分词 )；用厚厚的衣帽包着（自己） | |
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12
exclamations
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| n.呼喊( exclamation的名词复数 )；感叹；感叹语；感叹词 | |
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13
steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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14
skilful
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| (=skillful)adj.灵巧的，熟练的 | |
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15
interval
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| n.间隔，间距；幕间休息，中场休息 | |
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desperately
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| adv.极度渴望地，绝望地，孤注一掷地 | |
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shrilly
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| 尖声的； 光亮的，耀眼的 | |
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18
lull
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| v.使安静，使入睡，缓和，哄骗；n.暂停，间歇 | |
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19
generosity
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| n.大度，慷慨，慷慨的行为 | |
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20
impulsive
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| adj.冲动的，刺激的；有推动力的 | |
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21
chivalry
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| n.骑士气概，侠义；（男人）对女人彬彬有礼，献殷勤 | |
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22
knight
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| n.骑士，武士；爵士 | |
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23
momentary
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| adj.片刻的，瞬息的；短暂的 | |
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24
poised
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| a.摆好姿势不动的 | |
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overlapping
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| adj./n.交迭（的） | |
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26
fiery
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| adj.燃烧着的，火红的；暴躁的；激烈的 | |
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27
swelled
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| 增强( swell的过去式和过去分词 )； 肿胀； （使）凸出； 充满（激情） | |
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28
wilt
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| v.(使)植物凋谢或枯萎；(指人)疲倦，衰弱 | |
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29
warding
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| 监护，守护（ward的现在分词形式） | |
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30
impetus
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| n.推动，促进，刺激；推动力 | |
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momentum
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| n.动力，冲力，势头；动量 | |
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irresistible
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| adj.非常诱人的，无法拒绝的，无法抗拒的 | |
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33
stunned
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| adj. 震惊的，惊讶的 动词stun的过去式和过去分词 | |
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34
wrenched
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| v.（猛力地）扭( wrench的过去式和过去分词 )；扭伤；使感到痛苦；使悲痛 | |
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35
wrench
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| v.猛拧；挣脱；使扭伤；n.扳手；痛苦，难受 | |
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36
stunning
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| adj.极好的；使人晕倒的 | |
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37
foaming
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| adj.布满泡沫的；发泡 | |
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38
prostrate
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| v.拜倒，平卧，衰竭；adj.拜倒的，平卧的，衰竭的 | |
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39
curb
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| n.场外证券市场，场外交易；vt.制止，抑制 | |
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40
reined
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| 勒缰绳使（马）停步( rein的过去式和过去分词 )； 驾驭； 严格控制； 加强管理 | |
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41
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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42
utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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43
deafening
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| adj. 振耳欲聋的, 极喧闹的 动词deafen的现在分词形式 | |
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44
glimmering
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| n.微光，隐约的一瞥adj.薄弱地发光的v.发闪光，发微光( glimmer的现在分词 ) | |
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45
tumult
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| n.喧哗；激动，混乱；吵闹 | |
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46
uproar
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| n.骚动，喧嚣，鼎沸 | |
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47
sullen
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| adj.愠怒的，闷闷不乐的，(天气等)阴沉的 | |
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48
foul
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| adj.污秽的；邪恶的；v.弄脏；妨害；犯规；n.犯规 | |
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49
acquiescence
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| n.默许；顺从 | |
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50
rebuke
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| v.指责，非难，斥责 [反]praise | |
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51
looming
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| n.上现蜃景（光通过低层大气发生异常折射形成的一种海市蜃楼）v.隐约出现，阴森地逼近( loom的现在分词 )；隐约出现，阴森地逼近 | |
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52
peril
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| n.(严重的)危险；危险的事物 | |
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53
descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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54
protracted
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| adj.拖延的；延长的v.拖延“protract”的过去式和过去分词 | |
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55
jack
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| n.插座，千斤顶，男人；v.抬起，提醒，扛举；n.（Jake）杰克 | |
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56
salvation
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| n.（尤指基督）救世，超度，拯救，解困 | |
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57
instinctively
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| adv.本能地 | |
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58
shaft
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| n.(工具的)柄，杆状物 | |
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59
throbbing
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| a. 跳动的,悸动的 | |
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60
faculty
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| n.才能；学院，系；(学院或系的)全体教学人员 | |
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61
spiked
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| adj.有穗的；成锥形的；有尖顶的 | |
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62
mace
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| n.狼牙棒，豆蔻干皮 | |
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63
thongs
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| 的东西 | |
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64
spasm
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| n.痉挛，抽搐；一阵发作 | |
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65
gushing
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| adj.迸出的；涌出的；喷出的；过分热情的v.喷，涌( gush的现在分词 )；滔滔不绝地说话 | |
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66
lieutenant
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| n.陆军中尉，海军上尉；代理官员，副职官员 | |
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67
waxy
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| adj.苍白的；光滑的 | |
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68
beads
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| n.（空心）小珠子( bead的名词复数 )；水珠；珠子项链 | |
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69
hoarsely
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| adv.嘶哑地 | |
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