In one corner of the cave a feeble fire flickered8, the smoke therefrom curling along the roof to vanish in a thin blue plume9 of vapour. Beside the bed lay a pile of armour10, with a broken casque like a cleft11 skull12 to crown it. Dried herbs and a loaf of rye bread lay on a flat boulder13 near the fire. The figure on the heather was covered by a stained yet gorgeously blazoned14 surcoat, that seemed an incongruous quilt for such a couch. Near the cave's entry a great axe15 glittered on the floor, an axe whose notched16 edge had tested the metal of many a bassinet.
Down a rough path cut in the face of the cliff scrambled17 a gaunt, hollow-chested figure, doubleted in soiled scarlet18, battered19 shoes on feet, a black beard bristling20 on the stubborn chin. A red cloth was bound about the man's head. He breathed hard as he clambered down the cliff, as though winded by fast running. Sweat stood on his forehead. Beneath him ran the sea, a pit of foam, swirling21 and muttering amid the rocks.
He reached the entry of the cave and dived therein like a fox into an "earth." Standing22 by the bed, he looked for a moment at the unconscious figure with the air of one unwilling23 to wake a weary comrade from his sleep. At last he went down on his knees by the heather, and touched the sleeping man's cheek with the gentle gesture of a woman. The figure stirred at the touch; two thin hands groped over the green and azure quilt. The kneeling man gripped them in his great brown paws, and held them fast.
"Modred."
The voice was toneless, husky, and without spirit.
"Sire."
"Ah, these waking moments. It had been better if you had let me rot in Gambrevault."
"Courage, sire, you wake to a better fortune."
"There is new life in your voice."
"The King has come at last."
The man on the heather raised himself upon one elbow. His face looked grey and starved in the half gloom of the cave. He lifted up one hand with a gesture of joy.
"The King!"
Modred of the black beard smiled at him like a father. His hands trembled as he put the man back gently on the heather, and smoothed the coverlet.
"Lie still, sire."
"Ah, this is life, once more."
"Patience, patience. Let us have no woman's moods, no raptures24. Ha, I am a tyrannous dog. Did I drag you for dead out of Gambrevault to let you break your heart over Richard of Lauretia! Lie quiet, sire; you have no strength to gamble with as yet."
The man on the heather reached out again for Modred's hand.
"The rough dog should have been born a woman," he said to him.
Modred laughed.
"There is a great heart under that hairy chest of yours."
The moist mutterings of the sea came up to them from the rocky shore beneath. Clouds in white masses pressed athwart the arch of day. Modred, seated on a boulder beside the bed, eyed the prostrate25 figure thereon with a gaunt and tender pity. He was a stark26 man and strenuous27, yet warm of heart for all his bull's strength and steely sinew. Youth lay at his feet, thin and impotent, a white willow28 wand quivering beside a black and knotty29 oak.
Modred rose up and stood by the opening of the cave, his broad shoulders well-nigh filling the entry as he looked out over the sea. Far over the amethystine30 waters, a hundred pearl-white sails glimmered31 beyond the cliffs of Gambrevault. The sun smote32 on gilded33 prow34 and blazoned bulwark35, and upon a thousand streamers tonguing to the breeze.
Modred stretched out his great arms and smiled, a grim shimmer36 of joy over his ruffian's face. Standing at the mouth of the cave, he began to speak to the man couched in the inner gloom.
"Yonder, beyond Gambrevault," he said, "I see a hundred sails treading towards us over the sea. They are the King's ships: God cherish them; their bulwarks37 gleam in the sun."
Flavian twisted restlessly amid the heather.
"A grand sight, old friend."
Modred stood silent, fingering his chin. His voice broke forth38 again with a bluff39 exultation40 that seemed to echo the roar of the waves.
"St. Philip, that is well."
"More ships?"
"Nay41, sire, they raise the royal banner on the keep of Gambrevault. I see spears shine. Listen to the shouting. The King's men hold the headland."
"Sire, say not so."
"Ah, for an hour's youth again, one day in the sun, one moment under the moon."
"Sire, I would change with you if God would grant it me."
"Bless you, old friend; I would not grant it you if I were God."
A trumpet44 cried to them from the cliff, sudden, shrill45, and imperious. Modred, leaning against the rock with his hand over his eyes, started from the cave, and began to climb the path. He muttered and swore into his beard as he ascended46, queer oaths, spasmodic and fantastic. His black eyes were hazy47 for the moment. Contemptuous and fervid48, he brushed the tears away with a great brown hand.
On the green downs above him rolling to the peerless sky, he saw armour gleam and banners blush. A fanfare49 of trumpets rolled over the sea. It was Richard the King.
Modred bent50 at the royal stirrup, and kissed the jewelled hand. Above him a keen, steely-eyed visage looked out from beneath a gold-crowned bassinet. It was the face of a soldier and a tyrant51, handsome, haughty52, yet opulently gracious. The red lips curled under the black tusks53 of the long moustache. The big, clean-shaven jaw54 was a promontory55 of marble thrust forth imperiously over the world.
"So," came the terse58 response, "that was an evil fortune. So splendid a youth, a bright beam of chivalry59. Come, lead me to him."
The royal statue of steel dismounted and stalked down with knights60 and heralds61 towards the cliff. Leaning upon Modred's shoulder, Richard of the Iron Hand trod the rough path leading to the little cave. He bowed his golden crown at the entry, stooped like a suppliant62, stood before the Lord Flavian's bed.
The gloom troubled him for a moment. Anon, he saw the recumbent figure on the heather, the pile of harness, the brown loaf, and the meagre fire. He throned himself on the boulder beside the bed, and laid a white hand on the sick man's shoulder.
"Lie still," he said, as Flavian turned to rise; "to-day, my lord, we can forego ceremony."
Courtesy is the golden crown of power, forged from a poet's song, and the wisdom of the gods. The royal favour donned its robe of red that day, proffered63 its gracious signet to the lips of praise, held forth the sceptre of a radiant pity. Even the iron of truth becomes as silver on the lips of kings. Justice herself flatters, when ranged in simple white before a royal throne.
"My Lord of Gambrevault," quoth Richard of the Iron Hand, "be it known to you that your stout64 walls have saved my kingdom. You held the barbican of loyalty65 till true friends rallied to the country's citadel66. Bravely have you sounded your clarions in the gate of fame. My lord, I give to you the gratitude67 of a king."
Flattery strutted68 in the cave, gathering69 her robes with jewelled hand, gorgeous as an Eastern queen. Concerning the fate of a certain rebel Saint, the royal pardon waxed patriarchal in laconic70 phrases.
"Say no more, my lord; the boon71 is yours. Have I not a noble woman queening it beside me on my throne, flinging the beams of her bright eyes through all my life? This quest shall be heralded72 to the host; I will offer gold for the damsel's capture. Take this ring from me, no pledge as betwixt Jews, but as a talisman73 of good to come."
So spoke74 the royal gratitude. When the King had gone, Modred returned to carry his lord heavenwards to the meadows. He found him prone75 upon the heather, covering his eyes with his thin hands as the western sunlight streaked76 the gloom.
"Sire," said Modred, kneeling down beside the bed.
"Man, man, I am in great darkness of soul. Who shall comfort me!"
Modred bent to him, laid a great palm on the white forehead.
"Courage, sire, courage."
"Sire, we shall win her back again."
"My God, only to touch her hands once more, to feel the warmth of her pure bosom, and the thrill of her rich hair."
"We shall win her, sire. Doubt it not."
"All life is a doubt."
"Before God, I swear it!"
"Modred!"
"Before God, I swear it!"
He sprang up, thrust out his arms till the sinews cracked, filled his great chest with the breath of the sea. Suddenly he stopped, strained at a rock lying at the cave's mouth, lifted it, and hurled80 it from him, saw it smite81 foam from the water beneath.
"Fate, take my gauge," he cried, with a fierce glorying in his strength; "come, sire, put your hands about my neck. I will bear you to your castle of Gambrevault."
点击收听单词发音
1 azure | |
adj.天蓝色的,蔚蓝色的 | |
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2 foam | |
v./n.泡沫,起泡沫 | |
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3 swirled | |
v.旋转,打旋( swirl的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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4 gulls | |
n.鸥( gull的名词复数 )v.欺骗某人( gull的第三人称单数 ) | |
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5 crests | |
v.到达山顶(或浪峰)( crest的第三人称单数 );到达洪峰,达到顶点 | |
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6 bleak | |
adj.(天气)阴冷的;凄凉的;暗淡的 | |
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7 turquoise | |
n.绿宝石;adj.蓝绿色的 | |
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8 flickered | |
(通常指灯光)闪烁,摇曳( flicker的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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9 plume | |
n.羽毛;v.整理羽毛,骚首弄姿,用羽毛装饰 | |
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10 armour | |
(=armor)n.盔甲;装甲部队 | |
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11 cleft | |
n.裂缝;adj.裂开的 | |
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12 skull | |
n.头骨;颅骨 | |
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13 boulder | |
n.巨砾;卵石,圆石 | |
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14 blazoned | |
v.广布( blazon的过去式和过去分词 );宣布;夸示;装饰 | |
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15 axe | |
n.斧子;v.用斧头砍,削减 | |
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16 notched | |
a.有凹口的,有缺口的 | |
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17 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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18 scarlet | |
n.深红色,绯红色,红衣;adj.绯红色的 | |
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19 battered | |
adj.磨损的;v.连续猛击;磨损 | |
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20 bristling | |
a.竖立的 | |
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21 swirling | |
v.旋转,打旋( swirl的现在分词 ) | |
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22 standing | |
n.持续,地位;adj.永久的,不动的,直立的,不流动的 | |
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23 unwilling | |
adj.不情愿的 | |
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24 raptures | |
极度欢喜( rapture的名词复数 ) | |
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25 prostrate | |
v.拜倒,平卧,衰竭;adj.拜倒的,平卧的,衰竭的 | |
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26 stark | |
adj.荒凉的;严酷的;完全的;adv.完全地 | |
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27 strenuous | |
adj.奋发的,使劲的;紧张的;热烈的,狂热的 | |
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28 willow | |
n.柳树 | |
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29 knotty | |
adj.有结的,多节的,多瘤的,棘手的 | |
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30 amethystine | |
adj.紫水晶质的,紫色的;紫晶 | |
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31 glimmered | |
v.发闪光,发微光( glimmer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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32 smote | |
v.猛打,重击,打击( smite的过去式 ) | |
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33 gilded | |
a.镀金的,富有的 | |
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34 prow | |
n.(飞机)机头,船头 | |
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35 bulwark | |
n.堡垒,保障,防御 | |
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36 shimmer | |
v./n.发微光,发闪光;微光 | |
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37 bulwarks | |
n.堡垒( bulwark的名词复数 );保障;支柱;舷墙 | |
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38 forth | |
adv.向前;向外,往外 | |
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39 bluff | |
v.虚张声势,用假象骗人;n.虚张声势,欺骗 | |
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40 exultation | |
n.狂喜,得意 | |
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41 nay | |
adv.不;n.反对票,投反对票者 | |
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42 tinged | |
v.(使)发丁丁声( ting的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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43 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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44 trumpet | |
n.喇叭,喇叭声;v.吹喇叭,吹嘘 | |
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45 shrill | |
adj.尖声的;刺耳的;v尖叫 | |
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46 ascended | |
v.上升,攀登( ascend的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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47 hazy | |
adj.有薄雾的,朦胧的;不肯定的,模糊的 | |
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48 fervid | |
adj.热情的;炽热的 | |
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49 fanfare | |
n.喇叭;号角之声;v.热闹地宣布 | |
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50 bent | |
n.爱好,癖好;adj.弯的;决心的,一心的 | |
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51 tyrant | |
n.暴君,专制的君主,残暴的人 | |
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52 haughty | |
adj.傲慢的,高傲的 | |
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53 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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54 jaw | |
n.颚,颌,说教,流言蜚语;v.喋喋不休,教训 | |
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55 promontory | |
n.海角;岬 | |
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56 warden | |
n.监察员,监狱长,看守人,监护人 | |
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57 pointed | |
adj.尖的,直截了当的 | |
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58 terse | |
adj.(说话,文笔)精炼的,简明的 | |
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59 chivalry | |
n.骑士气概,侠义;(男人)对女人彬彬有礼,献殷勤 | |
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60 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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61 heralds | |
n.使者( herald的名词复数 );预报者;预兆;传令官v.预示( herald的第三人称单数 );宣布(好或重要) | |
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62 suppliant | |
adj.哀恳的;n.恳求者,哀求者 | |
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63 proffered | |
v.提供,贡献,提出( proffer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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65 loyalty | |
n.忠诚,忠心 | |
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66 citadel | |
n.城堡;堡垒;避难所 | |
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67 gratitude | |
adj.感激,感谢 | |
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68 strutted | |
趾高气扬地走,高视阔步( strut的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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69 gathering | |
n.集会,聚会,聚集 | |
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70 laconic | |
adj.简洁的;精练的 | |
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71 boon | |
n.恩赐,恩物,恩惠 | |
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72 heralded | |
v.预示( herald的过去式和过去分词 );宣布(好或重要) | |
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73 talisman | |
n.避邪物,护身符 | |
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74 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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75 prone | |
adj.(to)易于…的,很可能…的;俯卧的 | |
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76 streaked | |
adj.有条斑纹的,不安的v.快速移动( streak的过去式和过去分词 );使布满条纹 | |
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77 effigy | |
n.肖像 | |
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78 bosom | |
n.胸,胸部;胸怀;内心;adj.亲密的 | |
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79 peril | |
n.(严重的)危险;危险的事物 | |
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80 hurled | |
v.猛投,用力掷( hurl的过去式和过去分词 );大声叫骂 | |
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81 smite | |
v.重击;彻底击败;n.打;尝试;一点儿 | |
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