LESSON 49

DESCRIPTION OF A SIEGE

对被围困的描写

“The skirts of the wood seem lined with archers, although only a few are advanced from its dark shadow.” “Under what banner?” asked Ivanhoe. “Under no ensign which I can observe,” answered Rebecca. “A singular novelty,” muttered the knight, “to advance to storm such a castle without pennon or banner displayed. Seest thou who they be that act as leaders?” “A knight clad in sable armor is the most conspicuous,” said the Jewess: “he alone is armed from head to heel, and seems to assume the direction of all around him.”

“Seem there no other leaders?” exclaimed the anxious inquirer. “None of mark and distinction that I can behold from this station,” said Rebecca, “but doubtless the other side of the castle is also assailed. They seem, even now, preparing to advance. God of Zion protect us! What a dreadful sight! Those who advance first bear huge shields and defenses made of plank: the others follow, bending their bows as they come on. They raise their bows! God of Moses, forgive the creatures thou hast made!”

Her description was here suddenly interrupted by the signal for assault, which was given by the blast of a shrill bugle, and at once answered by a flourish of the Norman trumpets from the battlements, which, mingled with the deep and hollow clang of the kettledrums, retorted in notes of defiance the challenge of the enemy. The shouts of both parties augmented the fearful din, the assailants crying, “Saint George, for merry England!” and the Normans answering them with loud cries of “Onward, De Bracy! Front de Boeuf, to the rescue!”

“And I must lie here like a bedridden monk,” exclaimed Ivanhoe, “while the game that gives me freedom or death is played out by the hand of others! Look from the window once again, kind maiden, and tell me if they yet advance to the storm.” With patient courage, strengthened by the interval which she had employed in mental devotion, Rebecca again took post at the lattice, sheltering herself, however, so as not to be exposed to the arrows of the archers. “What dost thou see, Rebecca?” again demanded the wounded knight. “Nothing but the cloud of arrows flying so thick as to dazzle mine eyes, and to hide the bowmen who shoot them.” “That can not endure,” said Ivanhoe. “If they press not right on, to carry the castle by force of arms, the archery may avail but little against stone walls and bulwarks. Look for the knight in dark armor, fair Rebecca, and see how he bears himself; for as the leader is, so will his followers be.”

“I see him not,” said Rebecca. “Foul craven!” exclaimed Ivanhoe; “does he blench from the helm when the wind blows highest?” “He blenches not! he blenches not!” said Rebecca; “I see him now: he leads a body of men close under the outer barrier of the barbacan. They pull down the piles and palisades; they hew down the barriers with axes. His high black plume floats abroad over the throng like a raven over the field of the slain. They have made a breach in the barriers, they rush in, they are thrust back! Front de Boeuf heads the defenders. I see his gigantic form above the press. They throng again to the breach, and the pass is disputed, hand to hand, and man to man. God of Jacob! it is the meeting of two fierce tides, the conflict of two oceans moved by adverse winds;” and she turned her head from the window as if unable longer to endure a sight so terrible.

Speedily recovering her self-control, Rebecca again looked forth, and almost immediately exclaimed, “Holy prophets of the law! Front de Boeuf and the Black Knight fight hand to hand on the breach, amid the roar of their followers, who watch the progress of the strife. Heaven strike with the cause of the oppressed and of the captive!” She then uttered a loud shriek, and exclaimed, “He is down! he is down!” “Who is down!” cried Ivanhoe; “for our dear Lady’s sake, tell me which has fallen!” “The Black Knight,” answered Rebecca, faintly; then instantly again shouted with joyful eagerness—“But no! but no! the name of the Lord of Hosts be blessed! he is on foot again, and fights as if there were twenty men’s strength in his single arm—his sword is broken—he snatches an ax from a yeoman—he presses Front de Boeuf, blow on blow—the giant stoops and totters like an oak under the steel of the woodman—he falls-he falls!” “Front de Boeuf?” exclaimed Ivanhoe. “Front de Boeuf,” answered the Jewess; “his men rush to the rescue, headed by the haughty Templar, —their united force compels the champion to pause—they drag Front de Boeuf within the walls.”

“The assailants have won the barriers, have they not?” said Ivanhoe. “They have—they have—and they press the besieged hard upon the outer wall; some plant ladders, some swarm like bees, and endeavor to ascend upon the shoulders of each other; down go stones, beams, and trunks of trees upon their heads, and as fast as they bear the wounded to the rear, fresh men supply their places in the assault. Great God! hast thou given men thine own image that it should be thus cruelly defaced by the hands of their brethren!” “Think not of that,” replied Ivanhoe; “this is no time for such thoughts. Who yield? Who push their way?”

“The ladders are thrown down,” replied Rebecca, shuddering; “the soldiers lie groveling under them like crushed reptiles; the besieged have the better.” “Saint George strike for us!” said the knight; “do the false yeomen give way?” “No,” exclaimed Rebecca, “they bear themselves right yeomanly; the Black Knight approaches the postern with his huge ax; the thundering blows which he deals, you may hear them above all the din and shouts of the battle; stones and beams are hailed down on the brave champion; he regards them no more than if they were thistle down and feathers.”

“Saint John of Acre!” said Ivanhoe, raising himself joyfully on his couch, “methought there was but one man in England that might do such a deed.” “The postern gate shakes,” continued Rebecca; “it crashes—it is splintered by his powerful blows—they rush in—the outwork is won! O God! they hurry the defenders from the battlements—they throw them into the moat! O men, if ye be indeed men, spare them that can resist no longer!” “The bridge—the bridge which communicates with the castle—have they won that pass?” exclaimed Ivanhoe. “No,” replied Rebecca; “the Templar has destroyed the plank on which they crossed—few of the defenders escaped with him into the castle—the shrieks and cries which you hear, tell the fate of the others. Alas! I see that it is still more difficult to look upon victory than upon battle.”

“What do they now, maiden?” said Ivanhoe; “look forth yet again—this is no time to faint at bloodshed.” “It is over, for a time,” said Rebecca; “our friends strengthen themselves within the outwork which they have mastered.” “Our friends,” said Ivanhoe, “will surely not abandon an enterprise so gloriously begun, and so happily attained; Oh no! I will put my faith in the good knight whose ax has rent heart of oak and bars of iron. Singular,” he again muttered to himself, “if there can be two who are capable of such achievements. It is,—it must be Richard Coeur de Lion.”

“Seest thou nothing else. Rebecca, by which the Black Knight may be distinguished?” “Nothing,” said the Jewess, “all about him is as black as the wing of the night raven. Nothing can I spy that can mark him further; but having once seen him put forth his strength in battle, methinks I could know him again among a thousand warriors. He rushes to the fray as if he were summoned to a banquet. There is more than mere strength; it seems as if the whole soul and spirit of the champion were given to every blow which he deals upon his enemies. God forgive him the sin of bloodshed! it is fearful, yet magnificent, to behold how the arm and heart of one man can triumph over hundreds.”

(Walter Scott)

【中文阅读】

“好像有不少弓箭手埋伏在树林外围，不过待在树荫前面的没有多少人。”“他们打的是什么旗号呀？”艾凡赫问道。“我看不清他们打的是什么旗帜，”瑞贝卡答道。“真是好怪啊，”这骑士小声嘀咕道，“马上就要向城堡发起冲锋啦，却不打旗帜或旗号。你能看清他们带队的什么模样吗？”“一个穿黑貂皮盔甲的骑士最显眼，”犹太姑娘道，“只有他披盔戴甲，好像由他指挥。”

“就没有其他带队的吗？”焦急的询问者高声问道。“我从这里看不清还有什么人有特殊标志，”瑞贝卡道，“毫无疑问，城堡的另一面一定也正在受到攻击。他们现在好像要冲锋了。锡安的上帝保佑我们啊！太可怕了！冲在最前面的人都举着大盾牌，有的用木板做掩护；其他人边往前冲边弯起了弓。他们要放箭啦！摩西的主啊，饶恕那些您创造的生灵吧！”

话音刚落，她的话便突然被进攻的号令打断了。对面传来一阵刺耳的号角声，城垛上的诺曼人马上吹起喇叭，声音震天，还夹着铜鼓沉闷的咚咚声，作为对敌人挑战的回应。双方呐喊声此起彼伏，使喧闹声愈发显得可怕。进攻一方高喊着，“圣乔治保佑快乐的英格兰！”诺曼人有的高呼，“冲啊，狄布莱西！”有的大喊，“快去增援啊，弗朗•德•伯夫！”

“我的生死和自由取决于这场别人玩的游戏，而作为当事人的我却像一个瘫了的和尚一样躺在这里！”艾凡赫高声喊道，“好心的姑娘，你再到窗口瞧瞧，告诉我他们是否已经冲了上来。”瑞贝卡沉思片刻后，愈发坚强了，她平添了冷静的毅力，重新来到窗框后面，找了个位置藏身，以便不被下面的弓箭手的冷箭射中。“你看到什么了，瑞贝卡？”负伤的骑士又问道。“我都眼花了，箭密得像乌云一样，把射箭的弓箭手都给挡起来了。”“真叫人受不了，”艾凡赫道，“他们若不冲到城边，凭体力展开肉搏的话，光靠弓箭是攻不上这石头墙和堡垒的。美丽的瑞贝卡，看看能不能发现那个穿深色铠甲的骑士，看他在做什么。作为带队的，士兵们都听他的。”

“我看不到他啊，”瑞贝卡说道。“该死的懦夫！”艾凡赫大喊，“风大浪急的时候，难道掌舵的可以弃船而逃吗？”“他没有退缩！他没有退缩！”瑞贝卡说，“我现在看见他了。他带领一队士兵快逼近外堡的栅栏了。他们掀倒了木桩和栅栏。他们挥舞斧头砍倒了栅栏。他那黑色盔甲上的羽毛饰物在人群中高高飘扬，好像在屠宰场上空展翅飞翔的乌鸦一样。他们在栅栏那里打开了一个缺口，他们冲进来，可是又被赶了回去！指挥守兵的是弗朗•德•伯夫。我在人堆里看到比别人都高出一头的他。他们又蜂拥着冲到那缺口前，正在一对一地赤手肉搏，争夺通道。雅各的天主啊！这简直是两个惊涛骇浪绞在一起，两条大洋在逆风互相搏击啊！”她从窗户转过头来，仿佛不忍再看如此骇人的景象了。

瑞贝卡很快便恢复了自控，她又向下张望，马上喊道：“神圣的先知们！弗朗•德•伯夫和穿黑色盔甲的骑士在缺口那儿开始赤手肉搏，双方的将士呐喊助威。上天保佑受苦受难的人和俘虏！”片刻后，她又尖声叫道：“倒下啦！倒下啦！”“谁倒下了啊？”艾凡赫问道，“看在圣母的份儿上，告诉我到底谁倒下了！”“是穿黑色盔甲的骑士，”瑞贝卡答道，声音很轻。她随即又兴高采烈地叫道：“没倒下！没倒下！天主保佑！他又站起来了，二十条大汉也抵不上他一只胳膊，他太勇猛了。他的剑折断了——他又从一名骑兵队员手里抓过一把大斧——他冲弗朗•德•伯夫一斧子接着一斧子地猛砍——大个子摇摇晃晃，好像被樵夫砍倒的一棵橡树——他倒啦，他倒啦！”“是弗朗•德•伯夫吗？”艾凡赫高声问道，“是弗朗•德•伯夫，”犹太姑娘答道，“他的人来救他了，领头的是圣殿骑士——他们两队人马联合起来挡住了对方的猛攻。他们把弗朗•德•伯夫抬回城堡里去了。”

“进攻一方攻下栅栏了吧？”艾凡赫问道。“攻下了——攻下了！他们已经逼近被围困的外堡墙进攻；有人搭起云梯了，很多人彼此踏着肩头像蜜蜂似的一起往上涌，守卫外堡墙的人用石头、木梁、树干向他们头上扔。一旦进攻的人受伤被抬走，立刻又有生力军来补充。万能的上帝啊！您照您自己的模样创造了人类，难道就是为了让他们互相残杀吗！”“不要多想了，”艾凡赫说，“这个节骨眼哪有时间想那些事情。快告诉我，谁败了，谁在乘胜猛攻？”

“云梯被放倒了，”瑞贝卡回答着，禁不住打了个寒战，“下面的士兵们像受了伤的爬虫一样爬着。被围困在城堡里的这方战况要好些。”“圣乔治站在我们这边！”艾凡赫大喊道，“难道骑兵队认输了不成？”“没有！”瑞贝卡说，“他们像骑士那样英勇不屈。穿黑色盔甲的骑士提着大斧到后门那边去了。你能听到那哐哐的声响，压过战场上的所有声音，他在用大斧子砍门呢。石头、木头一齐砸向他，这些东西落在他身上就像羽毛似的，他毫不在意。”

“圣女贞德啊！”艾凡赫说道，禁不住兴奋得坐了起来，“我想整个英格兰只有他这么勇猛。”“后门在摇晃，”瑞贝卡接着说道，“后门开了——被他劈开了——他们冲进来了——外堡被占领了！上帝啊！他们把守兵从城垛扔下去了——扔到壕沟里了！好样的，你们要是真正的好汉，就饶了那些放弃抵抗的人吧！”“那座桥——通向城堡的那座桥——他们占领了吗？”艾凡赫问道。“没有，”瑞贝卡答道，“圣殿骑士退回城堡时就把桥板给毁了。只有很少的守兵随他退进城堡里，其余那些人，你只听听他们的惨叫，就能明白啥结果了。哎呀！我总算明白了，胜利比战斗更惨烈！”

“他们在干什么呢，姑娘？”艾凡赫问道，“你再往外看看，现在可不是心肠软的时候。”“暂时告一段落，”瑞贝卡说，“我们的朋友们挺进外堡以后，正在整顿人马呢。”“我们的朋友们，”艾凡赫说道，“幸好获得了初步的光荣胜利，当然不会半途而废，绝对不会！我对那位骑士很有信心，他那把大斧连橡木心和铁棍也能砍断，”说到这儿，他又自言自语道，“假如还有一个人也像他这样英勇的话——那他一定是狮心理查！”

“除了盾牌上的徽记之外，瑞贝卡，你还看到那穿黑色盔甲的骑士有什么特征没有？”“没有别的了，”犹太姑娘说，“他全身上下黑得就像黑夜里的乌鸦，要说还有什么特殊标志的话，就是他在战斗中勇猛异常，举世无二，我相信以后无论他身旁有多少士兵，我都能一眼就认出他来。他冲锋陷阵，就像赴宴一般轻松自如。他不但气力超乎常人，而且每次砍杀敌人时似乎将全部精神和勇气都用尽了。上帝赦免他杀生的罪孽吧！看到他以一人之力视万人为无物，不禁既害怕又敬畏。”

（沃尔特•司各特）