How it is Not Always he who Opens the Door, who Ent
The Porte St. Antoine was a kind of vault1 in stone, similar to our present Porte St. Denis, only it was attached by its left side to buildings adjacent to the Bastile. The space at the right, between the gate and the H?tel des Tournelles, was large and dark, little frequented by day, and quite solitary2 at night, for all passers-by took the side next to the fortress3, so as to be in some degree under the protection of the sentinel. Of course, winter nights were still more feared than summer ones.
That on which the events which we have recounted, and are about to recount took place, was cold and black. Before the gate on the side of the city, was no house, but only high walls, those of the church of St. Paul, and of the H?tel des Tournelles. At the end of this wall was the niche4 of which St. Luc had spoken to Bussy. No lamps lighted this part of Paris at that epoch6. In the nights when the moon charged herself with the lighting7 of the earth, the Bastile rose somber8 and majestic9 against the starry10 blue of the skies, but on dark nights, there seemed only a thickening of the shadows where it stood. On the night in question, a practised eye might have detected in the angle of the wall of the Tournelles several black shades, which moved enough to show that they belonged to poor devils of human bodies, who seemed to find it difficult to preserve their natural warmth as they. stood there. The sentinel from the Bastile; who could not see them on account of the darkness, could not hear them either, for they talked almost in whispers. However, the conversation did not want interest.
“This Bussy was right,” said one; “it is a night such as we had at Warsaw, when Henri was King of Poland, and if this continues we shall freeze.”
“Come, Maugiron, you complain like a woman,” replied another: “it is not warm, I confess; but draw your mantle11 over your eyes, and put your hands in your pockets, and you will not feel it.”
“Really, Schomberg,” said a third, “it is easy to see you are German. As for me, my lips bleed, and my mustachios are stiff with ice.”
“It is my hands,” said a fourth; “on my honor, I would not swear I had any.”
“You should have taken your mamma’s muff, poor Quelus,” said Schomberg.
“Eh! mon Dieu, have patience,” said a fifth voice; “you will soon be complaining you are hot.”
“I see some one coming through the Rue12 St. Paul,” said Quelus.
“It cannot be him; he named another route.”
“Might he not have suspected something, and changed it?”
“You do not know Bussy; where he said he should go, he would go, if he knew that Satan himself were barring his passage.”
“However, here are two men coming.”
“Ma foi! yes.”
“Let us charge,” said Schomberg.
“One moment,” said D’Epernon; “do not let us kill good bourgeois13, or poor women. Hold! they stop.”
In fact, they had stopped, and looked as if undecided. “Oh, can they have seen us?”
“We can hardly see ourselves!”
“See, they turn to the left; they stop before a house they are seeking — they are trying to enter; they will escape us!”
“But it is not him, for he was going to the Faubourg St. Antoine.”
“Oh! how do you know he told you right?”
At this supposition they all rushed out, sword in hand, towards the gentlemen.
One of the men had just introduced a key into the lock; the door had yielded and was about to open, when the noise of their assailants made them turn.
“What is this? Can it be against us, Aurilly?” said one.
“Ah, monseigneur,” said the other, who had opened the door, “it looks like it. Will you name yourself, or keep incognito14?”
“Some jealous lover; I said the lady was too beautiful not to be watched.”
“Let us enter quickly, Aurilly; we are safer within doors.”
“Yes, monseigneur, if there are not enemies within; but how do you know ——”
He had not time to finish. The young men rushed up; Quelus and Maugiron made for the door to prevent their entering, while Schomberg, D’O, and D’Epernon prepared to attack in front. But he who had been called monseigneur turned towards Quelus, who was in front, and crossing his arms proudly, said:
“You attack a son of France, M. Quelus!”
Quelus drew back, trembling, and thunderstruck.
“Monseigneur le Duc d’Anjou!” he cried.
“The Duc d’Anjou!” repeated the others.
“Well, gentlemen,” cried the duke.
“Monseigneur,” stammered16 D’Epernon, “it was a joke; forgive us.”
“Monseigneur,” said D’O, “we did not dream of meeting your highness here!”
“A joke!” said the duke; “you have an odd manner of joking, M. d’Epernon. Since it was not intended for me, whom did your jest menace?”
“Monseigneur,” said Schomberg; “we saw St. Luc quit the H?tel Montmorency and come this way; it seemed strange to us, and we wished to see what took him out on his wedding night.”
“M. de St. Luc — you took me for him?”
“Yes, monseigneur.”
“M. de St. Luc is a head taller then I am.”
“It is true, monseigneur; but he is just the height of M. Aurilly.”
“And seeing a man put a key in a lock, we took him for the principal,” added D’O.
“Monseigneur cannot suppose that we had the shadow of an ill-will towards him, even to disturb his pleasures?”
As he listened, the duke, by a skilful17 movement, had, little by little, quitted the door, followed by Aurilly, and was now at some distance off.
“My pleasures!” said he, angrily; “what makes you think I was seeking pleasure?”
“Ah, monseigneur, in any case pardon us, and let us retire,” said Quelus.
“It is well; adieu, gentlemen; but first listen. I was going to consult the Jew Manasses, who reads the future; he lives, as you know, in Rue de la Tournelle. In passing, Aurilly saw you and took you for the watch, and we, therefore, tried to hide ourselves in a doorway18. And now you know what to believe and say; it is needless to add, that I do not wish to be followed,” and he turned away.
“Monseigneur,” said Aurilly, “I am sure these men have bad intentions; it is near midnight, and this is a lonely quarter; let us return home, I beg.”
“No, no; let us profit by their departure.”
“Your highness is deceived; they have not gone, but have returned to their retreat: look in the angle of the H?tel des Tournelles.”
Fran?ois looked, and saw that Aurilly was right; it was evident that they waited for something, perhaps to see if the duke were really going to the Jew.
“Well, Monseigneur,” continued Aurilly, “do you not think it will be more prudent19 to go home?”
“Mordieu! yet it is annoying to give up.”
“Yes; but it can be put off. I told your highness that the house is taken for a year; we know the lady lodges20 on the first story. We have gained her maid, and have a key which opens the door: you may wait safely.”
“You are sure that the door yielded?”
“Yes, at the third key I tried.”
“Are you sure you shut it again?”
“Yes, monseigneur.”
Aurilly did not feel sure, as he said, but he did not choose to admit it.
“Well, I will go; I shall return some other time.” And the duke went away, promising21 to payoff the gentlemen for their interruption.
They had hardly disappeared, when the five companions saw approach a cavalier wrapped in a large cloak. The steps of his horse resounded22 on the frozen ground, and they went slowly and with precaution, for it was slippery.
“This time,” said Quelus, “it is he.”
“Impossible,” said Maugiron.
“Why?”
“Because he is alone, and we left him with Livarot, Antragues, and Ribeirac, who would not have let him run such a risk.”
“It is he, however; do you not recognize his insolent23 way of carrying his head?”
“Then,” said D’O, “it is a snare24.”
“In any case, it is he; and so to arms!”
It was, indeed, Bussy, who came carelessly down the Rue St. Antoine, and followed the route given him by Quelus; he had, as we have seen, received the warning of St. Luc, and, in spite of it, had parted from his friends at the H?tel Montmorency. It was one of those bravadoes delighted in by the valiant25 colonel, who said of himself, “I am but a simple gentleman, but I bear in my breast the heart of all emperor; and when I read in Plutarch the exploits of the ancient Romans, I think there is not one that I could not imitate.” And besides, he thought that St. Luc, who was not ordinarily one of his friends, merely wished to get him laughed at for his precautions; and Bussy feared ridicule26 more than danger.
He had, even in the eyes of his enemies, earned a reputation for courage, which could only be sustained by the rashest adventures. Therefore, alone, and armed only with a sword and poniard, he advanced towards the house where waited for him no person, but simply a letter, which the Queen of Navarre sent him every month on the same day, and which he, according to his promise to the beautiful Marguerite, went to fetch himself, alone, and at night.
When he arrived at the Rue St. Catherine, his active eye discerned in the shade the forms of his adversaries27. He counted them: “Three, four, five,” said he, “without counting the lackeys28, who are doubtless within call. They think much of me, it seems; all these for one man. That brave St. Luc did not deceive me; and were his even the first sword to pierce me I would cry, ‘Thanks for your warning, friend.’” So saying, he continued to advance, only his arm held his sword under his cloak, of which he had unfastened the clasp.
It was then that Quelus cried, “To arms.”
“Ah, gentlemen,” said Bussy, “it appears you wish to kill me: I am the wild boar you had to hunt. Well, gentlemen, the wild boar will rip up a few of you; I swear it to you, and I never break my word.”
“Possibly,” said Schomberg; “but it is not right, M. Bussy d’Amboise, that you should be on horseback and we on foot.” And as he spoke5, the arm of the young man, covered with white satin, which glistened29 in the moonlight, came from under his cloak, and Bussy felt his horse give way under him. Schomberg had, with an address peculiar30 to himself, pierced the horse’s leg with a kind of cutlass, of which the blade was heavier than the handle and which had remained in the wound. The animal gave a shrill31 cry and fell on his knees. Bussy, always ready, jumped at once to the ground, sword in hand.
“Ah!” cried he, “my favorite horse, you shall pay for this.” And as Schomberg approached incautiously, Bussy gave him a blow which broke his thigh32. Schomberg uttered a cry.
“Well!” said Bussy, “have I kept my word? one already. It was the wrist of Bussy, and not his horse’s leg, you should have cut.”
In an instant, while Schomberg bound up his thigh with his handkerchief, Bussy presented the point of his long sword to his four other assailants, disdaining33 to cry for help, but retreating gradually, not to fly, but to gain a wall, against which to support himself, and prevent his being attacked behind, making all the while constant thrusts, and feeling sometimes that soft resistance of the flesh which showed that his blows had taken effect. Once he slipped for an instant. That instant sufficed for Quelus to give him a wound in the side.
“Touched,” cried Quelus.
“Yes, in the doublet,” said Bussy, who would not even acknowledge his hurt. And rushing on Quelus, with a vigorous effort, he made his sword fly from his hand. But he could not pursue his advantage, for D’O, D’Epernon, and Maugiron attacked him, with fresh fury. Schomberg had bound his wound, and Quelus picked up his sword. Bussy made a bound backwards34, and reached the wall. There he stopped, strong as Achilles, and smiling at the tempest of blows which rained around him. All at once he felt a cloud pass over his eyes. He had forgotten his wound, but these symptoms of fainting recalled it to him.
“Ah, you falter35!” cried Quelus.
“Judge of it!” cried Bussy. And with the hilt of his sword he struck him on the temple. Quelus fell under the blow. Then furious — wild, he rushed forward, uttering a terrible cry. D’O and D’Epernon drew back, Maugiron was raising Quelus, when Bussy broke his sword with his foot, and wounded the right arm of D’Epernon. For a moment he was conqueror36, but Quelus recovered himself, and four swords flashed again. Bussy felt himself lost. He gathered all his strength to retreat once more step by step. Already the perspiration37 was cold on his brow, and the ringing in his ears and the cloud over his eyes warned him that his strength was giving way. He sought for the wall with his left hand; to his astonishment38, it yielded. It was a door not quite closed. Then he regained39 hope and strength for a last effort. For a second his blows were rapid and violent. Then he let himself glide40 inside the door, and pushed it to with a violent blow. It shut, and Bussy was saved. He heard the furious blows of his enemies on the door, their cries of rage, and wrathful imprecations. Then, the ground seemed to fail under his feet, and the walls to move. He made a few steps forward, and fell on the steps of a staircase. He knew no more, but seemed to descend41 into the silence and obscurity of the tomb.
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vault
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| n.拱形圆顶，地窖，地下室 | |
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solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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fortress
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| n.堡垒，防御工事 | |
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niche
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| n.壁龛；合适的职务(环境、位置等) | |
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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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epoch
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| n.(新)时代；历元 | |
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lighting
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| n.照明，光线的明暗，舞台灯光 | |
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8
somber
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| adj.昏暗的，阴天的，阴森的，忧郁的 | |
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majestic
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| adj.雄伟的，壮丽的，庄严的，威严的，崇高的 | |
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starry
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| adj.星光照耀的, 闪亮的 | |
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mantle
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| n.斗篷，覆罩之物，罩子；v.罩住，覆盖，脸红 | |
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rue
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| n.懊悔，芸香，后悔；v.后悔，悲伤，懊悔 | |
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13
bourgeois
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| adj./n.追求物质享受的(人)；中产阶级分子 | |
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14
incognito
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| adv.匿名地；n.隐姓埋名；adj.化装的，用假名的，隐匿姓名身份的 | |
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ambush
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| n.埋伏(地点)；伏兵；v.埋伏；伏击 | |
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stammered
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| v.结巴地说出( stammer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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17
skilful
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| (=skillful)adj.灵巧的，熟练的 | |
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18
doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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19
prudent
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| adj.谨慎的，有远见的，精打细算的 | |
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20
lodges
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| v.存放( lodge的第三人称单数 )；暂住；埋入；（权利、权威等）归属 | |
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21
promising
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| adj.有希望的，有前途的 | |
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22
resounded
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| v.（指声音等）回荡于某处( resound的过去式和过去分词 )；产生回响；（指某处）回荡着声音 | |
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23
insolent
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| adj.傲慢的，无理的 | |
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24
snare
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| n.陷阱，诱惑，圈套；（去除息肉或者肿瘤的）勒除器；响弦，小军鼓；vt.以陷阱捕获，诱惑 | |
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25
valiant
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| adj.勇敢的，英勇的；n.勇士，勇敢的人 | |
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ridicule
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| v.讥讽，挖苦；n.嘲弄 | |
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27
adversaries
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| n.对手，敌手( adversary的名词复数 ) | |
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28
lackeys
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| n.听差( lackey的名词复数 )；男仆（通常穿制服）；卑躬屈膝的人；被待为奴仆的人 | |
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29
glistened
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| v.湿物闪耀，闪亮( glisten的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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shrill
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| adj.尖声的；刺耳的；v尖叫 | |
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32
thigh
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| n.大腿；股骨 | |
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33
disdaining
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| 鄙视( disdain的现在分词 )； 不屑于做，不愿意做 | |
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backwards
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| adv.往回地，向原处，倒，相反，前后倒置地 | |
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35
falter
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| vi.(嗓音)颤抖，结巴地说；犹豫；蹒跚 | |
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conqueror
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| n.征服者，胜利者 | |
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37
perspiration
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| n.汗水；出汗 | |
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38
astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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39
regained
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| 复得( regain的过去式和过去分词 )； 赢回； 重回； 复至某地 | |
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glide
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| n./v.溜，滑行；(时间)消逝 | |
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41
descend
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| vt./vi.传下来，下来，下降 | |
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