A Good Knight1 in Prison
SIR GUY, being in the court of a Pagan castle.
This castle where I dwell, it stands
A long way off from Christian2 lands,
A long way off my lady’s hands,
A long way off the aspen trees,
And murmur3 of the lime-tree bees.
But down the Valley of the Rose
Heavy of cheer; oft turns behind,
Leaning towards the western wind,
Because it bringeth to her mind
Sad whisperings of happy times,
The face of him who sings these rhymes.
King Guilbert rides beside her there,
Bends low and calls her very fair,
And strives, by pulling down his hair,
To hide from my dear lady’s ken5
The grisly gash6 I gave him, when
I cut him down at Camelot;
However he strives, he hides it not,
That tourney will not be forgot,
Besides, it is King Guilbert’s lot,
Whatever he says she answers not.
Now tell me, you that are in love,
From the king’s son to the wood-dove,
Which is the better, he or I?
For this king means that I should die
In this lone7 Pagan castle, where
The flowers droop8 in the bad air
On the September evening.
Look, now I take mine ease and sing,
Counting as but a little thing
The foolish spite of a bad king.
For these vile9 things that hem10 me in,
These Pagan beasts who live in sin,
The sickly flowers pale and wan11,
The grim blue-bearded castellan,
The stanchions half worn-out with rust12,
Whereto their banner vile they trust:
Why, all these things I hold them just
As dragons in a missal book,
Wherein, whenever we may look,
We see no horror, yea delight
We have, the colours are so bright;
Likewise we note the specks13 of white,
And the great plates of burnish’d gold.
Just so this Pagan castle old,
And everything I can see there,
Sick-pining in the marshland air,
I note: I will go over now,
Like one who paints with knitted brow,
The flowers and all things one by one,
From the snail14 on the wall to the setting sun.
Four great walls, and a little one
That leads down to the barbican,
Which walls with many spears they man,
When news comes to the castellan
Of Launcelot being in the land.
And as I sit here, close at hand
Four spikes15 of sad sick sunflowers stand;
The castellan with a long wand
Cuts down their leaves as he goes by,
Ponderingly, with screw’d-up eye,
And fingers twisted in his beard.
Nay16, was it a knight’s shout I heard?
I have a hope makes me afeard:
It cannot be, but if some dream
Just for a minute made me deem
I saw among the flowers there
My lady’s face with long red hair,
Pale, ivory-colour’d dear face come,
As I was wont17 to see her some
Fading September afternoon,
And kiss me, saying nothing, soon
To leave me by myself again;
Could I get this by longing18? vain!
The castellan is gone: I see
On one broad yellow flower a bee
Drunk with much honey.
Christ! again,
Some distant knight’s voice brings me pain,
I thought I had forgot to feel,
I never heard the blissful steel
These ten years past; year after year,
Through all my hopeless sojourn19 here,
No Christian pennon has been near.
Laus Deo! the dragging wind draws on
Over the marshes20, battle won,
Knights21’ shouts, and axes hammering;
Yea, quicker now the dint22 and ring
Of flying hoofs23; ah, castellan,
When they come back count man for man,
Say whom you miss.
THE PAGANS, from the battlements.
Mahound to aid!
Why flee ye so like men dismay’d?
THE PAGANS, from without.
Nay, haste! for here is Launcelot,
Who follows quick upon us, hot
And shouting with his men-at-arms.
SIR GUY.
Also the Pagans raise alarms,
And ring the bells for fear; at last
My prison walls will be well past.
SIR LAUNCELOT, from outside.
Ho! in the name of the Trinity,
Let down the drawbridge quick to me,
And open doors, that I may see
Guy the good knight!
THE PAGANS, from the battlements.
Nay, Launcelot,
With mere24 big words ye win us not.
SIR LAUNCELOT.
Bid Miles bring up la perriere,
And archers25 clear the vile walls there.
Bring back the notches26 to the ear,
Shoot well together! God to aid!
These miscreants27 will be well paid.
Hurrah28! all goes together; Miles
Is good to win my lady’s smiles
For his good shooting: Launcelot!
On knights apace! this game is hot!
SIR GUY sayeth afterwards.
I said, I go to meet her now,
And saying so, I felt a blow
From some clench’d hand across my brow,
And fell down on the sunflowers
Just as a hammering smote29 my ears;
After which this I felt in sooth,
My bare hands throttling30 without ruth
The hairy-throated castellan;
Then a grim fight with those that ran
To slay31 me, while I shouted: God
For the Lady Mary! deep I trod
That evening in my own red blood;
Nevertheless so stiff I stood,
That when the knights burst the old wood
Of the castle-doors, I was not dead.
I kiss the Lady Mary’s head,
Her lips, and her hair golden red,
Because today we have been wed32.
1 knight | |
n.骑士,武士;爵士 | |
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2 Christian | |
adj.基督教徒的;n.基督教徒 | |
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3 murmur | |
n.低语,低声的怨言;v.低语,低声而言 | |
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4 hawking | |
利用鹰行猎 | |
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5 ken | |
n.视野,知识领域 | |
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6 gash | |
v.深切,划开;n.(深长的)切(伤)口;裂缝 | |
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7 lone | |
adj.孤寂的,单独的;唯一的 | |
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8 droop | |
v.低垂,下垂;凋萎,萎靡 | |
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9 vile | |
adj.卑鄙的,可耻的,邪恶的;坏透的 | |
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10 hem | |
n.贴边,镶边;vt.缝贴边;(in)包围,限制 | |
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11 wan | |
(wide area network)广域网 | |
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12 rust | |
n.锈;v.生锈;(脑子)衰退 | |
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13 specks | |
n.眼镜;斑点,微粒,污点( speck的名词复数 ) | |
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14 snail | |
n.蜗牛 | |
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15 spikes | |
n.穗( spike的名词复数 );跑鞋;(防滑)鞋钉;尖状物v.加烈酒于( spike的第三人称单数 );偷偷地给某人的饮料加入(更多)酒精( 或药物);把尖状物钉入;打乱某人的计划 | |
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16 nay | |
adv.不;n.反对票,投反对票者 | |
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17 wont | |
adj.习惯于;v.习惯;n.习惯 | |
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18 longing | |
n.(for)渴望 | |
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19 sojourn | |
v./n.旅居,寄居;逗留 | |
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20 marshes | |
n.沼泽,湿地( marsh的名词复数 ) | |
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21 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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22 dint | |
n.由于,靠;凹坑 | |
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23 hoofs | |
n.(兽的)蹄,马蹄( hoof的名词复数 )v.(兽的)蹄,马蹄( hoof的第三人称单数 ) | |
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24 mere | |
adj.纯粹的;仅仅,只不过 | |
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25 archers | |
n.弓箭手,射箭运动员( archer的名词复数 ) | |
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26 notches | |
n.(边缘或表面上的)V型痕迹( notch的名词复数 );刻痕;水平;等级 | |
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27 miscreants | |
n.恶棍,歹徒( miscreant的名词复数 ) | |
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28 hurrah | |
int.好哇,万岁,乌拉 | |
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29 smote | |
v.猛打,重击,打击( smite的过去式 ) | |
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30 throttling | |
v.扼杀( throttle的现在分词 );勒死;使窒息;压制 | |
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31 slay | |
v.杀死,宰杀,杀戮 | |
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32 wed | |
v.娶,嫁,与…结婚 | |
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