The window was full of the deep blue gloom of a summer night, with stars shining like the feathers of silver arrows shot into a target. A black curtain shut off the window recess1 from the King’s council chamber2 within, where candles burnt in sconces on the walls.
In this window recess in the south wall of the White Tower two men stood talking in whispers—great lords both of them, the Earls of Salisbury and Warwick. The shorter of the two had opened one of the lattices, and was kneeling with one knee on the padded seat. He rapped with his fingers on the stone sill, and watched the sentinels going to and fro upon the walls, and the river sliding smoothly4 under the stars. The night was very still—so still that they could hear the stream plashing along the walls by the water-gate. Hardly a sound came from the city, and the very muteness of the night seemed ominous6 and strange.
A clashing of arms, sudden and sharp, in the courtyard below, and the tramp of feet, told of the changing of the guard. A voice shouted orders. From beyond the curtain came a queer, whimpering sound as of a girl hiding her head in her cloak and weeping.
“Psst—listen to that! Such snivelling when the kingdom’s turned upside down!”
“Not too loud!”
“What will happen when he hears the wolves howling under the walls! And Walworth could promise——?”
“But little. Eight thousand burghers skulking9 in their houses behind closed doors; and thirty thousand ready to shout for the gates to be opened.”
Warwick turned fiercely and glanced up into Salisbury’s face—a massive, stolid10, cautious face, in no hurry to betray emotion.
“Ring their snouts, my friend.”
“And who’s to do the ringing? That—that—in yonder!”
They turned by some common impulse and stared at the black curtain that hid them from the council chamber.
“The lad has no more heart in him than a hare!”
“He is what he is.”
“A snivelling girl! Thunder of heaven, if we could but have the sire back in his stead! Why, look you, if these rebels can but get him into their hands, they’ll have no more to do but to pull ugly faces. He will run and hide his face in his mother’s bosom12, and let them hang every gentleman and friend in the kingdom.”
Salisbury nodded his head.
“Weak King—no kingdom. I am wondering how many of us will keep our heads on our shoulders.”
“Hallo, who’s this?”
Footsteps came towards them. The curtain was plucked aside, jerked back again, and a third man stood with them in the window recess. It was Robert Knollys, with the face of a ship’s captain, looking straight into the thick of a storm.
“Look in yonder; it is enough to make the heart of a strong man sick.”
He drew the curtain slightly to one side, so that they could see into the great council chamber lit by the candles set in sconces upon the walls. Half a dozen knights14 and gentlemen had withdrawn16 to the far end of the chamber and were standing17 there like men discomfited18, knowing not whether to stay or to go. At the lower end of the council table sat Simon of Sudbury, clad in a plain violet-coloured cassock with a small gold cross at his breast. He had a richly-bound missal open on the table before him, and he made a pretence19 of turning the pages. Now and again he raised his eyes from the book with binding20 of scarlet21 and gold, and looked at the Princess, who sat in a great carved chair set upon a low daïs in the centre of the chamber.
For this woman’s face was a tragedy in itself, struggling to mask pity, shame, anger, and a kind of incredulous scorn. She was dressed in some golden stuff that caught the light of the candles, so that her figure seemed to draw the light to it from every corner of the great room. A cap of silver tissue covered her black hair, and her face had a fine and spirited comeliness22 that strove not to be humiliated23 by the thing that lay upon her knees.
For on her knees lay the head of a King—her son. Her hands covered it, hands wearing many rings that sent out from their whiteness sparkles of red and of blue, of green and of purple. Richard was kneeling before her, his hands clasping the arms of the chair—frail, delicate hands, tapering24 towards the nails. Two thin ankles and feet shod in shoes of gilded25 leather were thrust out from under the folds of a robe of blue and white silk. His shoulders were twitching26, and as they twitched27 the heels of his gilden shoes smote28 together.
“God help the lad; he should have been born a girl.”
“How can one put blood into the boy?”
“Ask me some other riddle31, my friend! He has been like that ever since Newtown came to him to-day from the mob upon Blackheath. Newtown babbled32 too much—a pity they did not hang him.”
“Yes; and he swears that he will not go.”
Warwick struck the wall with his fist.
“Go; he shall go! By God, are we going to be brought to perdition because the lad’s a coward! He has come to a man’s state. Thunder of heaven! Think of what the sire was at his age, and the grandsire before him. Some tricksy devil must have got into the marriage bed.”
Knollys stroked his chin, and his eyes fell into a hard stare.
“Sirs, I have something to say to you.”
And to such purpose did he tell his tale that the murmur34 of their voices continued behind the curtain for more than an hour.
The next dawn was that of Corpus Christi Day, and Richard the King and his lords and gentlemen heard Mass in the Tower chapel35. Those who knew what to fear saw that the King’s face was like the face of a sickly girl, and that his thighs36 shook under him as he knelt on his crimson37 cushion. When Mass was over he returned to his chamber with the Princess, his mother, meaning to robe himself to meet these rebel peasants. They were to send their leaders to the southern bank near Rotherhithe, and the King was to go in his barge38 and listen to their grievances39.
What passed in Richard’s chamber no one but his mother knew, for she served as confessor, squire40, and page, and the door was closed on them for more than an hour. She gave him strong wine to drink, and used the lash5 of her scorn, so that there was some colour in his cheeks when he went down with his lords and gentlemen to the water-gate where the barge was waiting. Trumpets41 blew, and the lad’s chin went up as though his manhood crowed an answer to the trumpets. Salisbury, who walked at his side, watched him narrowly, knowing how much hung upon this youngster’s wit and courage.
The barge swung out into the river with a steady sweep of the long oars43, and headed towards Rotherhithe, with the King’s banner flying at the stern. Salisbury, Warwick, and Suffolk, and certain knights and gentlemen were in the barge, and all wore armour44 under their robes. The rowers were men who could shoot straight if needs be, and bows were ready under the thwarts45. Towards London Bridge many boats were lying, full of people in red and green hoods46 and many coloured doublets, so that they looked like great painted birds upon the water. These London boats stayed by the bridge, none of them putting out to follow the King, for Knollys had rowed up with two sergeant-at-arms and had it proclaimed that no boat should venture past the Tower.
In the King’s barge all men were silent, and avoided each other’s eyes as though fearing to see what each man felt to be too urgent in his own. Richard sat stiff as a wooden figure in the stern, an earl on either side of him. He wore his crown and robes of state, and the royal sword lay sheathed47 upon his knees. Warwick, who sat at his right elbow, kept pouring a whisper of words into his ear; but Richard never opened his lips, nor did he seem to hear. His eyes threw out uncertain, flickering48 glances that wavered from side to side. He watched the blades of the oars churning up foam49, and since his lips were dry, he kept moistening them with his tongue.
As they drew towards Rotherhithe, a knight15 who was standing in the bow of the barge uttered a “Grace of God,” and shaded his eyes with his hand.
“My lord, look yonder!”
Salisbury stood up, to see what should have been a green meadow sloping to the river, turned brown by a great swarm50 of men. Thousands of peasants were crowded along the southern bank, and they were silent with a strange, hungry silence, waiting for the coming of the King.
Then, quite suddenly, as though from some crack in the earth, a huge, rolling shout went up from the southern bank. They had seen the King’s banner at the stern of the barge, and the whole brown multitude bayed, and jostled, and jumped on each other’s shoulders to get a view. The clamour had a ragged52 and ferocious53 edge to its exultation54. It was like the uproar55 among caged beasts when the keeper appears with red meat on an iron spit.
The lad wearing the crown sat rigid56, and went white to the eyes. The two earls looked at each other over his head, and drew closer to him as though to warm him with the heat of their manhood. He was cold in the sun, and his teeth were chattering57.
“Courage, Sire.”
“They shout for the joy of seeing you.”
Salisbury spoke sharply to the steersman, and the barge ran on, the crowd along the bank unfolding itself like a grotesque59 tapestry60 upon a wall. Every sort of face seemed there—hairy, smooth, red, sallow, old, young, round, lean, some like screaming birds, others like neighing horses, all hooting61, bellowing62, and howling so that each open mouth was a red hole spouting63 sound. The uproar made the ears sing. Some of the men had stripped off their clothes, and danced with a kind of obscene bravado64. Caps were waved, fists shaken at the nobles.
Salisbury, who was standing up, very white and fierce and calm, signed to the rowers to rest on their oars and let the barge glide65 along about thirty yards from the bank. A storm of cries swept across the water.
“Land—land.”
“Death to the lords!”
“Come ashore, King Dick; we honest men would speak with you.”
“Wow, wow, wow!”
“Father Adam’s come to court.”
The two earls sat close to Richard, half holding him with the pressure of their bodies.
“Courage, Sire.”
“No nearer, sir, I charge you. I—I am your King. Bid them row farther off.”
“They mean you no harm, Sire.”
“By the soul of your father, open your eyes, and look at them as you would look at a herd of swine.”
“No nearer. Row farther out, I say. I’ll not speak to these beasts.”
The barge turned, and then began to row to and fro at a fair distance from the bank. For a while the crowd grew quieter, as though it were puzzled, and waiting to see what those in the barge would do.
Then the shouts broke out again.
“Come to land.”
“Curse you, lords! They are making a mock of us and of our King!”
“Ho! Hallo! Hallo! Give us our King; we have much to say to him.”
Some of them who were naked began to wade68 into the water. Salisbury glanced at the coward under the crown, spoke to the steersman, and held up a hand for silence.
The crowd suffered him to speak.
“Sirs, you are not fitly clad, nor fitly mannered for the King to speak with you.”
He faced them, nostrils69 inflated70, eyes bidding them back to the soil. The barge was edging away, and for a moment the crowd was silent. Then of a sudden it understood.
The roar that went up was the roar of a multitude that is balked71 of its desire. Fists shot out; men sprang into the river, felt for mud, and threw it, even as they threw curses. Hoots72, yells, whistlings followed the splashing oars.
The King’s barge returned to the Tower, and the peasants to Blackheath, to tell the thousands who had tarried there how the King and his lords had refused to treat with them, but had held aloof73 as though they were so many lepers. Wat the Tiler, Merlin, and John Ball had no wish to see the mob in a peaceful temper. If these lords and gentlemen were to be trampled74 out of existence, it behoved them to keep the Great Beast to its fury, and set it to rend75 and slay76.
The whole host poured from Blackheath, and by noon there were sixty thousand peasants in the suburbs, rushing hither and thither77, breaking into religious houses, plundering78 the taverns79, breaking down doors, and smashing fences, following any wild whim7 that served to lead them. They demolished80 the Marshalsea and set the prisoners free. Hundreds of uncouth81 figures came crowding to the closed gates, and howled threats at the guards upon the walls.
“Open the gates! Open the gates!”
The cry became one long, monotonous82, unchanging howl.
Walworth the Mayor spoke with them at the bridge gate, standing on the curtain wall between the towers, and looking down upon a sea of upturned faces. The rebels shook their scythes83 and pikes at him and threatened him with their bows. Some of them had brought up tree trunks and ladders, and shouted that they would break the gates down or storm the walls if the city did not open to them.
Walworth parleyed with the crowd, and rode straight to the Tower, where the Council was sitting without the King. Walworth’s news was desperate news, nor could he promise much for the goodwill84 of the city. The wealthier guilds85 might muster86 some eight thousand armed men, counting prentices and servants; Sir Robert Knollys had his six score men-at-arms, quartered about his lodging87; Sir Perducas d’Albreth had some fifty more. There were in the Tower with the King his two maternal88 brothers, the Earls of Salisbury, Suffolk, and Warwick, the Grand Prior of the Templars, Sir Robert de Namur, the Lord of Vertain, Sir Henry de Sanselles, and a number of knights, squires89, and yeomen. The Kent and Sussex rebels could count on the great mass of the common people within the city, and the easterlings and the midlanders were on the march. Walworth shrugged90 his shoulders and spoke of opening the gates.
“I tell you, sirs, there is nothing for it but to keep these gentry91 in a good temper. The King alone can shepherd them. They will listen to no one else. Yet if they are met bravely and with fair words——”
The lords looked at each other across the council table. It was as though Walworth mocked them, bidding them send out a white pigeon to coo to all these ravens92. There was some quarrelling before the Council broke up, having come to no judgment93 in the matter; but Salisbury and Knollys drew Walworth aside and spoke with him apart in a window. Warwick and the archbishop joined them, and they debated for a long while in undertones.
It was Salisbury who pressed the issue.
“Walworth speaks the truth. We are in the last ditch, sirs, and something must be risked by desperate men. Let Knollys bring this marvel94 in.”
“But the Princess? Is she the lady to suffer her son——?”
“Let us all go to her together. She is a woman of sense and spirit. Come, gentlemen; we have no time to lose.”
This “woman of sense and spirit” heard them with so much patience that Knollys rode to his lodgings95 as dusk fell, and climbed the stairs to Fulk’s attic3. The last edge of a red sunset showed through the window, and Fulk was standing and leaning his arms on the sill. For days he had been cooped up in this upper room, seeing no one but Knollys’ old squire and trusted comrade in arms, who brought him food and drink, and stared him in the face as though he were Edward the Black Prince risen from the dead. For hours together Fulk had stood at the window watching the smoke rising, the pigeons on the roofs, and the swifts circling high above the steeples whose vanes glittered in the sunlight. Isoult’s beauty was still burning in him, making his restlessness a consuming fire.
He turned sharply as Knollys entered, and his profile showed clear against the sunset. The very cock of his head was for adventure.
“The King behind the King!”
He gave a short laugh and tossed the things upon the bed.
“It’s like the smell of the sea when the ships put off for France. On with the cloak, lad, and wrap the scarf over your face. It will be dark enough in the streets.”
Two strides brought Fulk into the middle of the attic.
“I was ready to knock my head against the wall. What news?”
“Leave that for an hour. We must get through while the streets are open. The mob may break in before you can sing an Ave.”
Fulk put on the cloak, and covered his face with the scarf, so that nothing but his eyes showed.
“What lodging for to-night?”
“The Tower, lad, the Tower!”
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收听单词发音
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1
recess
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| n.短期休息，壁凹（墙上装架子，柜子等凹处） | |
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chamber
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| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
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attic
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| n.顶楼，屋顶室 | |
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smoothly
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| adv.平滑地，顺利地，流利地，流畅地 | |
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lash
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| v.系牢；鞭打；猛烈抨击；n.鞭打；眼睫毛 | |
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ominous
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| adj.不祥的，不吉的，预兆的，预示的 | |
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whim
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| n.一时的兴致，突然的念头；奇想，幻想 | |
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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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skulking
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| v.潜伏，偷偷摸摸地走动，鬼鬼祟祟地活动( skulk的现在分词 ) | |
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stolid
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| adj.无动于衷的，感情麻木的 | |
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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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bosom
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| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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13
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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14
knights
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| 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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knight
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| n.骑士，武士；爵士 | |
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withdrawn
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| vt.收回；使退出；vi.撤退，退出 | |
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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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discomfited
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| v.使为难( discomfit的过去式和过去分词)；使狼狈；使挫折；挫败 | |
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pretence
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| n.假装，作假；借口，口实；虚伪；虚饰 | |
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binding
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| 有约束力的，有效的，应遵守的 | |
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scarlet
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| n.深红色，绯红色，红衣；adj.绯红色的 | |
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comeliness
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| n. 清秀, 美丽, 合宜 | |
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humiliated
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| 感到羞愧的 | |
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tapering
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| adj.尖端细的 | |
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gilded
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| a.镀金的，富有的 | |
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26
twitching
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| n.颤搐 | |
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twitched
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| vt.& vi.（使）抽动，（使）颤动（twitch的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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28
smote
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| v.猛打，重击，打击( smite的过去式 ) | |
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29
blotted
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| 涂污( blot的过去式和过去分词 )； （用吸墨纸）吸干 | |
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30
morose
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| adj.脾气坏的，不高兴的 | |
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31
riddle
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| n.谜，谜语，粗筛；vt.解谜，给…出谜，筛，检查，鉴定，非难，充满于；vi.出谜 | |
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32
babbled
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| v.喋喋不休( babble的过去式和过去分词 )；作潺潺声（如流水）；含糊不清地说话；泄漏秘密 | |
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parley
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| n.谈判 | |
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murmur
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| n.低语，低声的怨言；v.低语，低声而言 | |
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chapel
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| n.小教堂，殡仪馆 | |
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thighs
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| n.股，大腿( thigh的名词复数 )；食用的鸡（等的）腿 | |
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crimson
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| n./adj.深(绯)红色(的)；vi.脸变绯红色 | |
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barge
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| n.平底载货船，驳船 | |
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grievances
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| n.委屈( grievance的名词复数 )；苦衷；不满；牢骚 | |
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squire
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| n.护卫, 侍从, 乡绅 | |
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41
trumpets
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| 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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42
hood
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| n.头巾，兜帽，覆盖；v.罩上，以头巾覆盖 | |
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43
oars
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| n.桨，橹( oar的名词复数 )；划手v.划（行）( oar的第三人称单数 ) | |
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44
armour
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| （=armor）n.盔甲；装甲部队 | |
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45
thwarts
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| 阻挠( thwart的第三人称单数 )； 使受挫折； 挫败； 横过 | |
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46
hoods
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| n.兜帽( hood的名词复数 )；头巾；（汽车、童车等的）折合式车篷；汽车发动机罩v.兜帽( hood的第三人称单数 )；头巾；（汽车、童车等的）折合式车篷；汽车发动机罩 | |
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47
sheathed
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| adj.雕塑像下半身包在鞘中的；覆盖的；铠装的；装鞘了的v.将（刀、剑等）插入鞘( sheathe的过去式和过去分词 )；包，覆盖 | |
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48
flickering
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| adj.闪烁的，摇曳的，一闪一闪的 | |
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49
foam
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| v./n.泡沫，起泡沫 | |
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50
swarm
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| n.(昆虫)等一大群；vi.成群飞舞；蜂拥而入 | |
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51
virgin
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| n.处女，未婚女子；adj.未经使用的；未经开发的 | |
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52
ragged
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| adj.衣衫褴褛的，粗糙的，刺耳的 | |
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53
ferocious
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| adj.凶猛的，残暴的，极度的，十分强烈的 | |
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54
exultation
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| n.狂喜，得意 | |
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55
uproar
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| n.骚动，喧嚣，鼎沸 | |
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56
rigid
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| adj.严格的，死板的；刚硬的，僵硬的 | |
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57
chattering
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| n. （机器振动发出的）咔嗒声，(鸟等)鸣，啁啾 adj. 喋喋不休的，啾啾声的 动词chatter的现在分词形式 | |
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chatter
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| vi.／n.喋喋不休；短促尖叫；(牙齿)打战 | |
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grotesque
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| adj.怪诞的，丑陋的；n.怪诞的图案，怪人（物） | |
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tapestry
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| n.挂毯，丰富多采的画面 | |
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hooting
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| （使）作汽笛声响，作汽车喇叭声( hoot的现在分词 )； 倒好儿； 倒彩 | |
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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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spouting
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| n.水落管系统v.（指液体）喷出( spout的现在分词 )；滔滔不绝地讲；喋喋不休地说；喷水 | |
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bravado
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| n.虚张声势，故作勇敢，逞能 | |
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glide
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| n./v.溜，滑行；(时间)消逝 | |
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ashore
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| adv.在(向)岸上，上岸 | |
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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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wade
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| v.跋涉，涉水；n.跋涉 | |
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nostrils
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| 鼻孔( nostril的名词复数 ) | |
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inflated
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| adj.（价格）飞涨的；（通货）膨胀的；言过其实的；充了气的v.使充气（于轮胎、气球等）( inflate的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）膨胀；（使）通货膨胀；物价上涨 | |
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71
balked
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| v.畏缩不前，犹豫( balk的过去式和过去分词 )；（指马）不肯跑 | |
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72
hoots
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| 咄，啐 | |
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aloof
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| adj.远离的；冷淡的，漠不关心的 | |
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trampled
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| 踩( trample的过去式和过去分词 )； 践踏； 无视； 侵犯 | |
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rend
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| vt.把…撕开，割裂；把…揪下来，强行夺取 | |
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slay
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| v.杀死，宰杀，杀戮 | |
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thither
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| adv.向那里；adj.在那边的，对岸的 | |
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plundering
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| 掠夺，抢劫( plunder的现在分词 ) | |
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taverns
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| n.小旅馆，客栈，酒馆( tavern的名词复数 ) | |
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demolished
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| v.摧毁( demolish的过去式和过去分词 )；推翻；拆毁（尤指大建筑物）；吃光 | |
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uncouth
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| adj.无教养的，粗鲁的 | |
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monotonous
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| adj.单调的，一成不变的，使人厌倦的 | |
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83
scythes
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| n.（长柄）大镰刀( scythe的名词复数 )v.（长柄）大镰刀( scythe的第三人称单数 ) | |
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goodwill
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| n.善意，亲善，信誉，声誉 | |
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guilds
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| 行会，同业公会，协会( guild的名词复数 ) | |
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muster
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| v.集合，收集，鼓起，激起；n.集合，检阅，集合人员，点名册 | |
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lodging
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| n.寄宿，住所；(大学生的)校外宿舍 | |
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maternal
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| adj.母亲的，母亲般的，母系的，母方的 | |
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squires
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| n.地主，乡绅( squire的名词复数 ) | |
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shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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gentry
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| n.绅士阶级，上层阶级 | |
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ravens
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| n.低质煤；渡鸦( raven的名词复数 ) | |
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judgment
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| n.审判；判断力，识别力，看法，意见 | |
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marvel
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| vi.(at)惊叹vt.感到惊异；n.令人惊异的事 | |
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lodgings
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| n. 出租的房舍, 寄宿舍 | |
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