Isoult, seated on a bundle of straw in the bottom of a wagon1, saw stretching for more than a mile behind her an undulating mass of marching men, a veritable river of humanity oozing2 with mud-brown eddies3 through the green of the June fields. The oxen harnessed to the wagon went at a stolid4 walk, and the wagon itself, with its creaking wheels, seemed to float on this river of bobbing heads and swinging legs. On a plank5 laid across the side rails sat John Ball and Merlin the Franciscan, each holding a wooden cross above the dust and the smell and the heat of all these herding6 peasants. Isoult could watch the faces of those who marched on either side of the wagon—the coarse, weather-stained faces of workers in the fields, all straining forward with fanatical and greedy eyes staring at something a long way off. Pikes, scythe-blades fastened to poles, pitchforks, bows, flails8, axes, and old swords were carried on the shoulders of this marching multitude.
For the most part these peasants plodded10 along in silence, a silence that licked its lips and thought of the morrow. Thousands of feet hammered the road, and an indescribable, harsh roar, blended of many sounds, suggested the rushing of water over a weir12. Now and again a man would throw up his head like a dog baying the moon, and howl out some catch-cry.
The single howl would be caught up, and carried in a roar, like a foaming14 freshet along the surface of this flowing multitude. The sound was stunning15, elemental, horrible, the bellowing16 of some huge monster, the reverberations of whose belly17 made the whole land tremble.
Isoult, sitting on her straw, with a face that looked straight over the tailboard of the wagon, felt that she had sat all day close to a great water-wheel that rushed round and round and never slackened. The June day was a blur18 of sweat, and dust, and movement. She had ceased to notice things very vividly19. Sometimes a big man on a white horse would ride up to the wagon—a man with a square black beard and teeth that showed between hot, red lips. She knew him to be Wat the Tiler, the master beast of the sweating herd7, for the men roared his name whenever his face swam near above the dust of the tramping feet.
More than once he dropped behind, and rode at the tail of the wagon, and Isoult felt his round eyes fixed20 on her. Hers had met his but once, and the gloating curiosity in them had seemed part of the sour smell of the cattle who kicked up the white dust on the highway. Sometimes Merlin spoke21 to her, glancing back over a bony shoulder, and his sneering22 voice was full of an ironical23 fatherliness.
“Courage, my daughter. In three days you shall sing to King Richard.”
She did not trouble to answer him, but let herself be carried along on the tide of all this rage and exultation24. A sense of the immensity of all that was happening round her made her feel that she was but a blown leaf being hurried along with thousands of other leaves. What did it matter what happened to her, that she was alive, being kept like a bird in a cage at Merlin’s pleasure? She knew in her heart of hearts what all these men desired, and what they purposed, and that her pride would be torn from her even as many a fine cloak would be torn from the shoulders of the rich. Yet somehow she did not care. The savage25 eagerness of this plodding26 multitude, the noise, the sweat and dust, the roar of their voices when they cheered, made her feel that she was watching the workings of an inevitable27 doom28. What could stand against this brown flood of men, this whole people that had risen to smother29 the hated few? She knew that the whole land was moving on London, that these Kent and Sussex men might be but one multitude among many. It was like all the forests of the land plucking themselves up by the roots and rushing to fall on the few woodmen who had ruled with the edge of the axe9. Who could stop them? And as for their being fooled by promises, the men who led them were too shrewd and desperate to be tricked by promises.
Of Fulk she thought vaguely30 with a distant tenderness that looked back at a fragment of the past, and asked nothing of the future. What had become of him? Did he believe her dead? Or had he guessed that she had lied to save him, and pretended that she had come by her death wound when an arrow had done no more than pierce the flesh of her flank? She could not have run with that arrow in her side, and Fulk would have been taken with her had she not acted a lie. What had become of him? What part would he play in this savage overthrow31 that threatened a kingdom? What could a thousand such men do to stay it? The valour of a prince’s bastard32 seemed to her a mere11 thread of steel set to bear the blows of a thousand bludgeons.
The day’s march ended upon Blackheath, and the peasants of Kent and Sussex camped there to the number of some sixty thousand men. The oxen were unyoked and the wagon left standing33 on some high ground close to the road, and so placed that Isoult looked northward34 towards where the great city hung upon the silver thread of the river. The sun was low in the west, and through the haze35 of a June evening she fancied she could see a distant glimmer36 of vanes and steeples, a something that looked like a forest touched by the long yellow rays of the setting sun.
Fifty yards away, John Ball, mounted on a barrel, was preaching to the people. The crowd was very silent, and his voice came to her with the sound of bells ringing in the distance. She saw his arms waving exultantly37 as he flared38 like a torch burning in a wind. Hundreds of intent, hairy, and fresh-coloured faces looked up at him, open-mouthed, with eyes that glittered. And away yonder lay the great city, dim in the yellow light, like a dream on the uttermost edge of sleep.
Isoult heard a man’s laughter, and, turning about, saw a face with a forked red beard look at her over the tailboard of the wagon. It was Guy the Stallion, gorgeous in a red camlet coat with a silver baldric over his shoulder, his bassinet polished till the pits of rust39 had been rubbed away. He rested his elbows on the tailboard of the wagon, and cleaning his teeth with the point of his tongue, stared at Isoult with an insolent40 relish41 that made his red-brown eyes look like points of hot metal.
“Ha, Madame Isoult, it has been a great day, surely!”
He opened his mouth wide and cawed like a bird.
“Tell me, fair one, where now is the gentleman? Our great barons44 have fled out of the kingdom, to make war on Spaniards, since it is safer. We shall march down yonder, and eat up all the King’s creatures, all the fat merchants and clerks and moneylenders. John Ball will be our archbishop, Wat our Lord Marshal, Merlin our Chief Councillor.”
“And you, Master Chanticleer?”
He spread his shoulders.
“I shall be a great captain. I shall march to and fro, hanging the gentry45 and storming their castles. I have seen more war than any lord in England. Yes, I shall be a great captain, with ten thousand bows and bills at my back.”
The fellow might be contemptible46, but it was such as he that led the Blatant47 Beast by the nose, and it is always possible to learn something, even from a Welshman with a red beard.
“Will it be so easy to eat up all the nobles and their people?”
He was very ready to prove to her how the kingdom would be won.
“See now, how can one knight48 in full harness fight a hundred ploughmen? Why, they have only to tumble him over, and beat him with hammers like any old pot. I know what I am saying; the lord on the high horse is only good to fight his peers. We have only to hamstring their horses, pull them down like big beetles49, and then use the knife. I have seen it done in the French wars. Besides, half the lords are out of the country, and the rest shivering in their skins. The King’s but a boy, and most of the Londoners are with us. The whole country’s up, and we mean to have the King in our hands and to use him. By cock, what can a few hundred lobsters50 in steel coats do against so many?”
He pulled his beard, and looked at her with half-closed eyes, convinced that he was a devil of a fellow, and ready to challenge her to pose him with her questions. And for once his swagger had a fierce reality behind it. Even his boasting seemed to fall short of the truth.
“No doubt you will be a great captain,” she said; “and, my God, what a country it will be to live in!”
“We honest fellows are as good, and better, than the fops and squirelings.”
“Better—oh, far better.”
“When are we to be in London, great captain?”
“In three days.”
“So soon?”
“We want to be in, and to have the glory, and some of the pickings, before the easterlings and the midlanders come up.”
“To be sure.”
She smiled at him as she might have smiled at some extravagantly52 bitter jest. He leant over the tailboard, and his eyes leered.
“Isoult, you shall be a great lady.”
“I shall be nothing, my friend, just nothing.”
“Wait till some of us have our castles and our lands.”
“What, some of you mean to be lords in the places of—these gentlemen?”
She rested her chin on her hands and stared at him till he began to blink.
“You are not such a fool, then, lord Guy! You have caught the twist of Merlin’s tongue. Oh, these honest firebrands! Always the sheep—always the sheep!”
She saw the sun go down behind the swashbuckler’s head, so that it haloed him and the red tusks55 of his hair that stuck out so jauntily56. He frothed for a while and then took himself off, kissing the blade of his sword to her as though he were to carry her favour in the lists.
Isoult smiled bitterly, glimpsing her own helplessness.
“To have to listen to such a jay! Where is the hawk57 that should tear the heart out of such creatures? Friend Fulk, if you were King—ah, things might happen!”
Dusk fell, and the heath became one great uproar58, a kind of huge playing field for all these rough men of the fields. They sang and hooted59 and hammered on pots and pans, danced, wrestled60, rolled over each other, played leap-frog, giving each other huge smacks61 and buffets62.
All their elemental grossness seemed minded to express itself in an orgy of physical delirium63. They mocked Nature, and made a jest of her, and the close June night was full of the sound of their horse-play.
Isoult sat and listened, her hood64 pulled down over her face. These cattle! They whinneyed, squealed65, grunted66, blew wind between blubbering lips, pranced67, butted68 each other. And in the midst of all this obscene clowning there were three faces that haunted her—Wat the Tiler’s, Guy’s, and the face of Merlin the Priest. She had seen the same elemental hunger in the eyes of these three men, a lust69 that watched and waited to seize on the thing that it desired. A sudden loathing70 of her own body rose in her, a loathing of a thing that might be carrion71, to judge by the crows that watched and waited. And mingled72 with this loathing was all the horror of helplessness that overtakes one in the midst of an evil dream.
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1
wagon
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| n.四轮马车，手推车，面包车；无盖运货列车 | |
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2
oozing
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| v.（浓液等）慢慢地冒出，渗出( ooze的现在分词 )；使（液体）缓缓流出；（浓液）渗出，慢慢流出 | |
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eddies
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| （水、烟等的）漩涡，涡流( eddy的名词复数 ) | |
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4
stolid
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| adj.无动于衷的，感情麻木的 | |
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plank
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| n.板条，木板，政策要点，政纲条目 | |
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herding
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| 中畜群 | |
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herd
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| n.兽群，牧群；vt.使集中，把…赶在一起 | |
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8
flails
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| v.鞭打( flail的第三人称单数 )；用连枷脱粒；（臂或腿）无法控制地乱动；扫雷坦克 | |
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9
axe
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| n.斧子；v.用斧头砍，削减 | |
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10
plodded
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| v.沉重缓慢地走（路）( plod的过去式和过去分词 )；努力从事；沉闷地苦干；缓慢进行（尤指艰难枯燥的工作） | |
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11
mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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12
weir
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| n.堰堤，拦河坝 | |
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13
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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14
foaming
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| adj.布满泡沫的；发泡 | |
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15
stunning
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| adj.极好的；使人晕倒的 | |
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16
bellowing
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| v.发出吼叫声，咆哮（尤指因痛苦）( bellow的现在分词 )；（愤怒地）说出（某事），大叫 | |
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17
belly
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| n.肚子，腹部；(像肚子一样)鼓起的部分，膛 | |
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18
blur
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| n.模糊不清的事物；vt.使模糊，使看不清楚 | |
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19
vividly
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| adv.清楚地，鲜明地，生动地 | |
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20
fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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21
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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22
sneering
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| 嘲笑的，轻蔑的 | |
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23
ironical
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| adj.讽刺的，冷嘲的 | |
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24
exultation
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| n.狂喜，得意 | |
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25
savage
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| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
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26
plodding
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| a.proceeding in a slow or dull way | |
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27
inevitable
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| adj.不可避免的，必然发生的 | |
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28
doom
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| n.厄运，劫数；v.注定，命定 | |
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29
smother
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| vt./vi.使窒息；抑制；闷死；n.浓烟；窒息 | |
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30
vaguely
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| adv.含糊地，暖昧地 | |
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31
overthrow
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| v.推翻，打倒，颠覆；n.推翻，瓦解，颠覆 | |
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32
bastard
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| n.坏蛋，混蛋；私生子 | |
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33
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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34
northward
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| adv.向北；n.北方的地区 | |
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35
haze
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| n.霾，烟雾；懵懂，迷糊；vi.(over)变模糊 | |
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36
glimmer
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| v.发出闪烁的微光；n.微光，微弱的闪光 | |
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37
exultantly
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| adv.狂欢地，欢欣鼓舞地 | |
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38
Flared
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| 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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39
rust
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| n.锈；v.生锈；(脑子)衰退 | |
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40
insolent
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| adj.傲慢的，无理的 | |
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41
relish
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| n.滋味，享受，爱好，调味品；vt.加调味料，享受，品味；vi.有滋味 | |
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42
arrogant
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| adj.傲慢的，自大的 | |
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43
shambles
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| n.混乱之处；废墟 | |
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44
barons
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| 男爵( baron的名词复数 )； 巨头； 大王； 大亨 | |
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45
gentry
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| n.绅士阶级，上层阶级 | |
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46
contemptible
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| adj.可鄙的，可轻视的，卑劣的 | |
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47
blatant
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| adj.厚颜无耻的；显眼的；炫耀的 | |
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48
knight
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| n.骑士，武士；爵士 | |
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49
beetles
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| n.甲虫( beetle的名词复数 ) | |
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50
lobsters
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| 龙虾( lobster的名词复数 )； 龙虾肉 | |
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51
irony
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| n.反语，冷嘲；具有讽刺意味的事，嘲弄 | |
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52
extravagantly
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| adv.挥霍无度地 | |
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53
shrug
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| v.耸肩(表示怀疑、冷漠、不知等) | |
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54
bleat
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| v.咩咩叫，(讲)废话，哭诉；n.咩咩叫，废话，哭诉 | |
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55
tusks
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| 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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56
jauntily
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| adv.心满意足地；洋洋得意地；高兴地；活泼地 | |
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57
hawk
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| n.鹰，骗子；鹰派成员 | |
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58
uproar
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| n.骚动，喧嚣，鼎沸 | |
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59
hooted
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| （使）作汽笛声响，作汽车喇叭声( hoot的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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60
wrestled
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| v.（与某人）搏斗( wrestle的过去式和过去分词 )；扭成一团；扭打；（与…）摔跤 | |
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61
smacks
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| 掌掴（声）( smack的名词复数 )； 海洛因； （打的）一拳； 打巴掌 | |
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62
buffets
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| （火车站的）饮食柜台( buffet的名词复数 )； （火车的）餐车； 自助餐 | |
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63
delirium
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| n. 神智昏迷,说胡话;极度兴奋 | |
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64
hood
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| n.头巾，兜帽，覆盖；v.罩上，以头巾覆盖 | |
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65
squealed
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| v.长声尖叫，用长而尖锐的声音说( squeal的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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66
grunted
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| （猪等）作呼噜声( grunt的过去式和过去分词 )； （指人）发出类似的哼声； 咕哝着说 | |
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67
pranced
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| v.（马）腾跃( prance的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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68
butted
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| 对接的 | |
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69
lust
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| n.性(淫)欲；渴(欲)望；vi.对…有强烈的欲望 | |
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70
loathing
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| n.厌恶，憎恨v.憎恨，厌恶( loathe的现在分词)；极不喜欢 | |
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71
carrion
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| n.腐肉 | |
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72
mingled
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| 混合，混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
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