For You to Read
属于您的小说阅读网站
巴黎圣母院英文版 - BOOK TENTH CHAPTER VII.CHATEAUPERS TO THE RESCUE.
繁体
恢复默认
返回目录【键盘操作】左右光标键:上下章节;回车键:目录;双击鼠标:停止/启动自动滚动;滚动时上下光标键调节滚动速度。
  The reader will, perhaps, recall the critical situation in which we left Quasimodo.The brave deaf man, assailed on all sides, had lost, if not all courage, at least all hope of saving, not himself (he was not thinking of himself), but the gypsy.He ran distractedly along the gallery.Notre-Dame was on the point of being taken by storm by the outcasts. All at once, a great galloping of horses filled the neighboring streets, and, with a long file of torches and a thick column of cavaliers, with free reins and lances in rest, these furious sounds debouched on the place like a hurricane,--"France!France!cut down the louts!Chateaupers to the rescue!provostship!provostship!"The frightened vagabonds wheeled round.Quasimodo who did not hear, saw the naked swords, the torches, the irons of the pikes, all that cavalry, at the head of which he recognized Captain phoebus; he beheld the confusion of the outcasts, the terror of some, the disturbance among the bravest of them, and from this unexpected succor he recovered so much strength, that he hurled from the church the first assailants who were already climbing into the gallery.It was, in fact, the king's troops who had arrived. The vagabonds behaved bravely.They defended themselves like desperate men.Caught on the flank, by the Rue Saint- pierre-aux-Boeufs, and in the rear through the Rue du parvis, driven to bay against Notre-Dame, which they still assailed and Quasimodo defended, at the same time besiegers and besieged, they were in the singular situation in which Comte Henri Harcourt, ~Taurinum obsessor idem et obsessus~, as his epitaph says, found himself later on, at the famous siege of Turin, in 1640, between prince Thomas of Savoy, whom he was besieging, and the Marquis de Leganez, who was blockading him.The battle was frightful.There was a dog's tooth for wolf's flesh, as p. Mathieu says.The king's cavaliers, in whose midst phoebus de Chateaupers bore himself valiantly, gave no quarter, and the slash of the sword disposed of those who escaped the thrust of the lance.The outcasts, badly armed foamed and bit with rage.Men, women, children, hurled themselves on the cruppers and the breasts of the horses, and hung there like cats, with teeth, finger nails and toe nails. Others struck the archers' in the face with their torches. Others thrust iron hooks into the necks of the cavaliers and dragged them down.They slashed in pieces those who fell.One was noticed who had a large, glittering scythe, and who, for a long time, mowed the legs of the horses.He was frightful.He was singing a ditty, with a nasal intonation, he swung and drew back his scythe incessantly.At every blow he traced around him a great circle of severed limbs.He advanced thus into the very thickest of the cavalry, with the tranquil slowness, the lolling of the head and the regular breathing of a harvester attacking a field of wheat.It was Chopin Trouillefou.A shot from an arquebus laid him low.In the meantime, windows had been opened again.The neighbors hearing the war cries of the king's troops, had mingled in the affray, and bullets rained upon the outcasts from every story.The parvis was filled with a thick smoke, which the musketry streaked with flame.Through it one could confusedly distinguish the front of Notre-Dame, and the decrepit H?tel-Dieu with some wan invalids gazing down from the heights of its roof all checkered with dormer windows.At length the vagabonds gave way.Weariness, the lack of good weapons, the fright of this surprise, the musketry from the windows, the valiant attack of the king's troops, all overwhelmed them.They forced the line of assailants, and fled in every direction, leaving the parvis encumbered with dead.When Quasimodo, who had not ceased to fight for a moment, beheld this rout, he fell on his knees and raised his hands to heaven; then, intoxicated with joy, he ran, he ascended with the swiftness of a bird to that cell, the approaches to which he had so intrepidly defended.He had but one thought now; it was to kneel before her whom he had just saved for the second time.When he entered the cell, he found it empty.
或许您还会喜欢:
红龙
作者:佚名
章节:54 人气:0
摘要:1威尔·格雷厄姆让克劳福德坐在房子与海之间的野餐桌旁,然后递给他一杯冰茶。杰克·克劳福德看着这幢外表漂亮的老式房子。银白色的木料衬着明媚的阳光。“我真应该当你卸职的时候在玛若森就找到你,”杰克说,“你肯定不愿意在这儿谈这件事。”“这事我在哪儿都不愿意谈,杰克。既然你坚持要说,好,我们就来谈谈。 [点击阅读]
纯真年代
作者:佚名
章节:36 人气:0
摘要:作者:蒲隆美国文学批评家菲利普·拉赫夫把美国文学中典雅和粗犷这两种不同的流派形象地称为“苍白脸和红皮肤”。这两种流派不仅写作风格相异,而且题材也不同:“苍白脸”多写上流社会,“红皮肤”则多写下层民众。当然两派作家的家庭出身和社会经历也大相径庭。 [点击阅读]
纸牌屋
作者:佚名
章节:12 人气:0
摘要:世上没有永恒不变的事物。欢笑不长久,欲望不长久,生命本身,也总会走到尽头。这真是至理名言。所以,人生在世,最要紧的就是及时行乐,活在当下,把手中的东西紧紧抓住。为什么要虚度一生去换取入土之后碑头的空文呢?“永存我心”,什么样的蠢蛋才会希望自己的坟头铭刻这样一句空话?这不过是无病呻吟的多愁和伤感,毫无意义。我们还是面对现实吧,人生就是一场零和博弈,输赢高下都在政坛见分晓。 [点击阅读]
纽约老大
作者:佚名
章节:19 人气:0
摘要:1991年6月13日,好莱坞。凌晨,加利福尼亚美联社分部一派兵荒马乱。五分钟之前,路透社抢先向全球公布了齐亚托联通公司的最新消息。这一次,英国人灵敏的鼻子终于甚至比美国人更早嗅到了大西洋的腥味。齐亚托联通公司正在制做本世纪耗资最大的色情片,主要外景地选择在沙漠中,也就是拍摄《宾虚传》和《阿拉伯的劳伦斯》用过的场景,其中一处搭设了1000余人在上面翻滚的大台子。 [点击阅读]
绞刑架下的报告
作者:佚名
章节:14 人气:0
摘要:一代英雄,惨遭杀害,但他们是一座座高大雄伟的雕像,矗立在大地上,鲜花环绕,阳光沐浴,人们把最崇敬的感情献上。一伙魑魅魍魉,蝇营狗苟,虽生犹死,都是些朽木雕成的木偶,人们投之以冷眼、蔑视与嘲笑。捷克民族英雄伏契克在他举世闻名的《绞刑架下的报告》(以下简称《报告》)这部不朽的作品里,深刻地揭示了人的伟大与渺歇—雕像与木偶的根本区别。 [点击阅读]
绿里奇迹
作者:佚名
章节:59 人气:0
摘要:这件事发生在1932年,当时的州立监狱还在冷山。当然了,还有电椅。狱中囚犯常拿电椅开玩笑,对令人恐惧却又摆脱不掉的东西,大家总喜欢如此地取笑一番。他们管它叫“电伙计”,或者叫“大榨汁机”。大伙谈论电费单,谈论那年秋天监狱长穆尔斯不得不自己做感恩节晚餐,因为他妻子梅琳达病得没法做饭了。不过,对于那些真得要坐到电椅上的人,这些玩笑很快就不合时宜了。 [点击阅读]
罗亭
作者:佚名
章节:13 人气:0
摘要:那是个静谧的夏天早晨。太阳已经高悬在明净的天空,可是田野里还闪烁着露珠。苏醒不久的山谷散发出阵阵清新的幽香。那片依然弥漫着潮气,尚未喧闹起来的树林里,只有赶早的小鸟在欢快地歌唱。缓缓倾斜的山坡上,自上到下长满了刚扬花的黑麦。山顶上,远远可以望见一座小小的村落。一位身穿白色薄纱连衣裙,头戴圆形草帽,手拿阳伞的少妇,正沿着狭窄的乡间小道向那座村庄走去。一名小厮远远跟在她后面。 [点击阅读]
罗杰·艾克罗伊德谋杀案
作者:佚名
章节:27 人气:0
摘要:谢泼德医生在早餐桌上弗拉尔斯太太于16日晚(星期四)离世而去。17日(星期五)早晨八点就有人来请我去。我也帮不了什么忙,因为她已死了好几个小时了。九点过几分我就回到了家。我取出钥匙打开了前门,故意在大厅里磨蹭了一会,不慌不忙地把帽子和风衣挂好,这些都是我用来抵御初秋晨寒的东西。说老实话,我当时的心情非常沮丧忧愁。我并不想装模作样地认为,我能够预料今后几周将要发生的事。 [点击阅读]
罗杰疑案
作者:佚名
章节:27 人气:0
摘要:弗拉尔斯太太于16日晚(星期四)离世而去。17日(星期五)早晨八点就有人来请我去。我也帮不了什么忙,因为她已死了好几个小时了。九点过几分我就回到了家。我取出钥匙打开了前门,故意在大厅里磨蹭了一会,不慌不忙地把帽子和风衣挂好,这些都是我用来抵御初秋晨寒的东西。说老实话,我当时的心情非常沮丧忧愁。我并不想装模作样地认为,我能够预料今后几周将要发生的事。 [点击阅读]
罪与罚
作者:佚名
章节:50 人气:0
摘要:在彼得堡贫民区一家公寓的五层楼斗室里,住着一个穷大学生拉斯柯尔尼科夫。他正在经历着一场痛苦而激烈的思想斗争——他要确定自己是属于可以为所欲为的不平凡的人,还是只配做不平凡的人的工具的普通人。他原在法律系就学,因交不起学费而被迫辍学,现在靠母亲和妹妹从拮据的生活费中节省下来的钱维持生活。他已经很久没有交房租了。近来,房东太太不仅停止供给他伙食,而且催租甚紧。这时他遇见了小公务员马尔美拉陀夫。 [点击阅读]