“The King will hunt swine to-morrow.”
Such was the night’s apothegm, and men flung it with variations and with a liberal garnishing3 of oaths into each other’s faces. The metaphor4 was acceptable to those who were in their cups, and much repetition piled assurance upon assurance. The great army of the King had its head full of drunken insolence5. Its mouth uttered one huge oath. It would only have to show itself on the morrow, and De Montfort’s dirty burghers would take to their heels and run.
Bonfires had been lit everywhere, and round them were crowds of grotesque6 faces that bawled7, and gulped8, and fed. There was no lack of food and drink, sheep and oxen were roasted whole; men gorged9 themselves like dogs about the carcases. Cressets flared10 upon the castle towers, and Prince Edward had set twenty trumpeters to blow fanfares11 before the gate. The Priory bells were jangling like fuddled men quarrelling with one another. There was no discipline anywhere, no sign of a high purpose, no forethought for the morrow. “The King will hunt swine!” Men bellowed12 it to one another, and the superstition13 contented14 them.
When Denise and Marpasse came near the west gate of the town, they saw a huge fire burning there, the flames lighting15 the black battlements above. A great crowd had gathered about the fire, and the noise might have equalled the noise at Barnet Fair. Men were running about half naked like hairy-legged satyrs mad with wine. The platform of the town gate was crowded with a roaring, squealing16 mob that amused itself by emptying nature upon the equally repulsive17 mob below. Mounted upon a tub, a man with one eye, dressed like a Franciscan, spouted18 indecent skits19 on the clergy20, pretending the while to be zealously21 in earnest. Elsewhere a crowd of excited and contorted figures made a ring round two women who, stripped to the waist, were wrestling, their faces smeared22 with the blood of a dead ox. Drunken rascals23 were scrambling24 about on all fours, and pretending to be dogs. If any mad whim25 came into a man’s head, he acted on it, and did not stop to think.
Marpasse had taken Denise by the wrist, and they had melted back into the darkness, holding their breath over the chance of being plunged26 into that simmering human stew27. Marpasse was no innocent, but her face went hard and ugly with the sincerity28 of her disgust.
“Drunken swine! We will keep away from your sty, I warrant you.”
She spoke29 in a harsh whisper, her pupils contracting as she stared at the gate and the bonfire that was half hidden by live things that swarmed30 like beetles31. Denise shuddered32 inwardly, and was silent. She thought of the cool, dark woods over yonder, and of the grim and quiet men who waited for the dawn.
Marpasse waved an arm towards the town.
“You see,” she seemed to say.
“They are like wild beasts.”
“What did you think to find, my dear; blessed banners and crosses, and priests galore? Or perhaps so many Sir Tristans keeping watch under the stars, and thinking of noble and great ladies. No, no, the King and Earl Simon handle their hot coals differently. Come away, we shall do no good yonder.”
They retreated along the road, and hearing loud squeals33 of laughter near them, drew aside, and hid themselves in a ditch. Marpasse could feel Denise shivering. When the laughter had gone by them towards the town, Marpasse stood up and looked about her in the darkness.
“We were walking into the cattle market,” she said in an ironical34 whisper. “The Priory lies yonder, most likely the King is lodged there. Pick your feet up out of this mud.”
They scrambled35 out of the ditch, and leaving the road, went on cautiously hand in hand. Marpasse’s eyes seemed like the eyes of a cat. Sometimes they stopped to listen, standing37 close together as though for comfort. The darkness, rendered more weird38 and baffling by the glare of the watch fires, seemed to threaten them with all manner of evil shapes.
An overbearing desire to talk mastered Denise. The sound of her own voice tended to smother39 the whisperings of panic. Marpasse let her run on till the mass of the Priory began to blacken the clear sky.
“Ssh,” she said, “we shall need our ears now, more than our tongues. If we are stopped by any of these gentry40, leave the talking to me.”
Aymery’s face flashed up into Denise’s consciousness. Her hand contracted convulsively upon Marpasse’s wrist.
“If Earl Simon could have fallen on them to-night,” she whispered.
“To-morrow will do, or I am no prophet,” answered Marpasse.
The Priory of St. Pancras was shut in by its great precinct wall, but Marpasse and Denise found it only too easy to make their way within. There was a guard at the Priory gate, but the men were drinking and dicing41, letting the night look after itself. People did what they pleased, and St. Pancras had no heavenly say in the matter. The men of the sword had pushed the good saint into a corner, his monks42, too, were exceeding meek43 and docile44, holding to the Christian45 doctrine46 that one must suffer in the spirit of patience. Yet their patience was largely a matter of discretion47 and of necessity, for put power in a priest’s hands and he is a tyrant48 among tyrants49.
Booths had been set up inside the precinct wall, and there were clowns who kept the crowd a-laughing, and minstrels who sang songs fit for the lowest ear. Women in bright-coloured clothes went to and fro between the bonfires, fierce, hawk-faced women who knew how to take care of their own concerns. Marpasse and Denise kept in the shadow, though there were things to stumble over in the darkness, as Marpasse found when she trod on something that kicked out at her and cursed. They wandered into the cloisters50, and through the dark passage-ways and slypes; all doors were open, and no one hindered them, for no one seemed to boast any authority that night. Sometimes they stood in dark corners, and listened to what was said by those who passed. St. Pancras might have stood with his fingers in his ears, for the humour was very broad, and the language primitive51. “The King will hunt swine to-morrow.” The same snatch served here as in Lewes town, and Marpasse understood the significance thereof. The King meant to attack De Montfort on the morrow, and was letting his men debauch52 themselves into reckless good humour.
The great church was full of tawny53 light, all the doors stood open, and Marpasse and Denise gliding54 from buttress55 to buttress, looked in through the door of the north transept. Torches had been stuck about the walls, the smoke pouring up, and filling the dim distance of the vaulting56 with drifting vapour. The church was full of men and women in cloths and silks of the brightest colours, men and women who danced and drank, and sprawled57 about the flagged floors. Nor were the men from the common crowd of the King’s army; they were the lords, the knights58, and the esquires, wild captains of free-lances who held a debauch before to-morrow’s battle. The high altar was like a rostrum in old Rome, seized upon by a drunken crowd, and covered with creatures that laughed and howled, and clung to one another. Some of the women had put on the men’s helmets, others wore garlands of half-withered flowers. A party of young nobles had broken open the sacristy, and dressed themselves in precious embroidered59 vestments. The scene was a scramble36 of colour, a scene of perpetual movement, of flux60 and reflux, of strong sensual life throbbing61 in and out of half-darkened sanctuaries62.
Marpasse had seen enough, and Denise too much. They were moving away, when Marpasse started aside and drew Denise into the shadow of a buttress. A blur63 of movement disentangled itself from the darkness, and took shape in a knot of figures that approached the transept door. The party halted, and the two women saw a man wearing a cloak of sables65, and a surcoat of some golden stuff, come forward alone and stand looking into the church.
The glare from the torches fell upon the face of the man who wore the sable64 cloak. It was a handsome face, yet weak and troubled, the face of a man without great self-restraint, a man who would attempt to be violent when he should be patient, and who would betray his weakness when he needed strength. There was something tragic66 about the figure standing there alone, and looking in upon the wild night before the dawn of the morrow. It might have been the figure of a magician gazing upon the fierce and elemental things that he had brought into being, and who had lost the power of holding them under his spell.
Marpasse saw the man cross himself, and turn away with an air that suggested foreshadowings of disaster. It was a figure full of infinite significance, in that it had striven continually to strut67 upon the world’s stage, and yet had never succeeded in being more than a puppet.
Marpasse had whispered in Denise’s ear.
“The King!”
And then:—
“The poor fool! He is not a shepherd like Earl Simon. Even his sheep dogs are out of hand.”
As he had come out of the darkness, so he disappeared, silently, almost furtively68, with no blare of trumpets69 and no tossing of torches. Men who were wise saw in him a thing that was sometimes a saint, sometimes a mean, contriving70 Jew, often a firebrand, more often still a beauty-loving fool. Brave enough in battle, and a clean liver, yet the grim, animal energy of his father might have served him better than his own flickering71 and inconstant brilliancy. Henry could delight in the colour of a painted window, and he had the heart of a sentimental72 woman. In one thing alone he may have been of use, for his follies73 taught the stronger son to be warned by the mistakes of a weak father. Henry made war against the spirit of liberty stirring in the heart of a great people. Edward the Strong was wiser in knowing the nature of his own strength.
“We have seen enough,” she said; “they are to hunt swine to-morrow! Good, very good, let them beware of the boar’s tusks75.”
They made their way back towards the gate, and St. Pancras, kind saint, blessed them, for they escaped unscathed out of the place. And coming out to the cool darkness that covered the downs, they sat down side by side to wait for the dawn.
点击收听单词发音
1 lodged | |
v.存放( lodge的过去式和过去分词 );暂住;埋入;(权利、权威等)归属 | |
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2 mustered | |
v.集合,召集,集结(尤指部队)( muster的过去式和过去分词 );(自他人处)搜集某事物;聚集;激发 | |
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3 garnishing | |
v.给(上餐桌的食物)加装饰( garnish的现在分词 ) | |
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4 metaphor | |
n.隐喻,暗喻 | |
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5 insolence | |
n.傲慢;无礼;厚颜;傲慢的态度 | |
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6 grotesque | |
adj.怪诞的,丑陋的;n.怪诞的图案,怪人(物) | |
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7 bawled | |
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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8 gulped | |
v.狼吞虎咽地吃,吞咽( gulp的过去式和过去分词 );大口地吸(气);哽住 | |
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9 gorged | |
v.(用食物把自己)塞饱,填饱( gorge的过去式和过去分词 );作呕 | |
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10 Flared | |
adj. 端部张开的, 爆发的, 加宽的, 漏斗式的 动词flare的过去式和过去分词 | |
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11 fanfares | |
n.仪式上用的短曲( fanfare的名词复数 ) | |
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12 bellowed | |
v.发出吼叫声,咆哮(尤指因痛苦)( bellow的过去式和过去分词 );(愤怒地)说出(某事),大叫 | |
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13 superstition | |
n.迷信,迷信行为 | |
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14 contented | |
adj.满意的,安心的,知足的 | |
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15 lighting | |
n.照明,光线的明暗,舞台灯光 | |
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16 squealing | |
v.长声尖叫,用长而尖锐的声音说( squeal的现在分词 ) | |
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17 repulsive | |
adj.排斥的,使人反感的 | |
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18 spouted | |
adj.装有嘴的v.(指液体)喷出( spout的过去式和过去分词 );滔滔不绝地讲;喋喋不休地说;喷水 | |
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19 skits | |
n.讽刺文( skit的名词复数 );小喜剧;若干;一群 | |
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20 clergy | |
n.[总称]牧师,神职人员 | |
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21 zealously | |
adv.热心地;热情地;积极地;狂热地 | |
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22 smeared | |
弄脏; 玷污; 涂抹; 擦上 | |
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23 rascals | |
流氓( rascal的名词复数 ); 无赖; (开玩笑说法)淘气的人(尤指小孩); 恶作剧的人 | |
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24 scrambling | |
v.快速爬行( scramble的现在分词 );攀登;争夺;(军事飞机)紧急起飞 | |
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25 whim | |
n.一时的兴致,突然的念头;奇想,幻想 | |
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26 plunged | |
v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 );暴跌;骤降;突降 | |
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27 stew | |
n.炖汤,焖,烦恼;v.炖汤,焖,忧虑 | |
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28 sincerity | |
n.真诚,诚意;真实 | |
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29 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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30 swarmed | |
密集( swarm的过去式和过去分词 ); 云集; 成群地移动; 蜜蜂或其他飞行昆虫成群地飞来飞去 | |
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31 beetles | |
n.甲虫( beetle的名词复数 ) | |
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32 shuddered | |
v.战栗( shudder的过去式和过去分词 );发抖;(机器、车辆等)突然震动;颤动 | |
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33 squeals | |
n.长而尖锐的叫声( squeal的名词复数 )v.长声尖叫,用长而尖锐的声音说( squeal的第三人称单数 ) | |
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34 ironical | |
adj.讽刺的,冷嘲的 | |
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35 scrambled | |
v.快速爬行( scramble的过去式和过去分词 );攀登;争夺;(军事飞机)紧急起飞 | |
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36 scramble | |
v.爬行,攀爬,杂乱蔓延,碎片,片段,废料 | |
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37 standing | |
n.持续,地位;adj.永久的,不动的,直立的,不流动的 | |
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38 weird | |
adj.古怪的,离奇的;怪诞的,神秘而可怕的 | |
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39 smother | |
vt./vi.使窒息;抑制;闷死;n.浓烟;窒息 | |
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40 gentry | |
n.绅士阶级,上层阶级 | |
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41 dicing | |
n.掷骰子,(皮革上的)菱形装饰v.将…切成小方块,切成丁( dice的现在分词 ) | |
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42 monks | |
n.修道士,僧侣( monk的名词复数 ) | |
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43 meek | |
adj.温顺的,逆来顺受的 | |
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44 docile | |
adj.驯服的,易控制的,容易教的 | |
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45 Christian | |
adj.基督教徒的;n.基督教徒 | |
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46 doctrine | |
n.教义;主义;学说 | |
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47 discretion | |
n.谨慎;随意处理 | |
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48 tyrant | |
n.暴君,专制的君主,残暴的人 | |
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49 tyrants | |
专制统治者( tyrant的名词复数 ); 暴君似的人; (古希腊的)僭主; 严酷的事物 | |
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50 cloisters | |
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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51 primitive | |
adj.原始的;简单的;n.原(始)人,原始事物 | |
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52 debauch | |
v.使堕落,放纵 | |
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53 tawny | |
adj.茶色的,黄褐色的;n.黄褐色 | |
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54 gliding | |
v. 滑翔 adj. 滑动的 | |
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55 buttress | |
n.支撑物;v.支持 | |
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56 vaulting | |
n.(天花板或屋顶的)拱形结构 | |
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57 sprawled | |
v.伸开四肢坐[躺]( sprawl的过去式和过去分词);蔓延;杂乱无序地拓展;四肢伸展坐着(或躺着) | |
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58 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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59 embroidered | |
adj.绣花的 | |
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60 flux | |
n.流动;不断的改变 | |
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61 throbbing | |
a. 跳动的,悸动的 | |
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62 sanctuaries | |
n.避难所( sanctuary的名词复数 );庇护;圣所;庇护所 | |
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63 blur | |
n.模糊不清的事物;vt.使模糊,使看不清楚 | |
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64 sable | |
n.黑貂;adj.黑色的 | |
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65 sables | |
n.紫貂( sable的名词复数 );紫貂皮;阴暗的;暗夜 | |
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66 tragic | |
adj.悲剧的,悲剧性的,悲惨的 | |
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67 strut | |
v.肿胀,鼓起;大摇大摆地走;炫耀;支撑;撑开;n.高视阔步;支柱,撑杆 | |
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68 furtively | |
adv. 偷偷地, 暗中地 | |
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69 trumpets | |
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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70 contriving | |
(不顾困难地)促成某事( contrive的现在分词 ); 巧妙地策划,精巧地制造(如机器); 设法做到 | |
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71 flickering | |
adj.闪烁的,摇曳的,一闪一闪的 | |
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72 sentimental | |
adj.多愁善感的,感伤的 | |
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73 follies | |
罪恶,时事讽刺剧; 愚蠢,蠢笨,愚蠢的行为、思想或做法( folly的名词复数 ) | |
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74 hood | |
n.头巾,兜帽,覆盖;v.罩上,以头巾覆盖 | |
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75 tusks | |
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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