For You to Read
属于您的小说阅读网站
Site Manager
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:
怪指纹
作者:佚名
章节:30 人气:2
摘要:法医学界的一大权威宗像隆一郎博士自从在丸内大厦设立宗像研究所,开始研究犯罪案件和开办侦探事业以来,已经有好几年了。该研究所不同于普通的民间侦探,若不是连警察当局都感到棘手的疑难案件它是决不想染指的,只有所谓“无头案”才是该研究室最欢迎的研究课题。 [点击阅读]
情人 杜拉斯
作者:佚名
章节:17 人气:2
摘要:一个与昆德拉、村上春树和张爱玲并列的小资读者、时尚标志的女作家,一个富有传奇人生经历、惊世骇俗叛逆性格、五色斑斓爱情的艺术家,一个堪称当代法国文化骄傲的作家,一个引导世界文学时尚的作家……《情人》系杜拉斯代表作之一,自传性质的小说,获一九八四年法国龚古尔文学奖。全书以法国殖民者在越南的生活为背景,描写贫穷的法国女孩与富有的中国少爷之间深沉而无望的爱情。 [点击阅读]
星球大战5:帝国反击战
作者:佚名
章节:14 人气:2
摘要:反军军官举起他的电子双筒望远镜,把焦距调准对着那些在雪中坚定地前进着的东西,看上去象一些来自过去的生物……但它们是战争机器,每一个都大踏步地走着,象四条腿的巨大的有蹄动物——帝国全地形装甲运输器!军官急忙抓起他的互通讯器。“流氓领机——回话!点零三!”“回波站五——七,我们正在路上。”就在卢克天行者回答时,一个爆炸把雪和冰溅散在军官和他惊恐的手下周围。 [点击阅读]
星球大战前传3:西斯的复仇
作者:佚名
章节:22 人气:2
摘要:很久以前,在一个遥远的星系这个故事发生在很久以前的一个遥远星系。故事已经结束了,任何事都不能改变它。这是一个关于爱情与失去、友情与背叛、勇气与牺牲以及梦想破灭的故事,这是一个关于至善与至恶之间模糊界限的故事。这是一个关于一个时代终结的故事。关于这个故事,有一件很奇怪的事——它既发生在语言难以描述其长久与遥远的时间之前与距离之外,又发生在此刻,发生在这里。它就发生在你阅读这些文字的时候。 [点击阅读]
暮光之城5:午夜阳光
作者:佚名
章节:12 人气:2
摘要:每天的这个时候,我总是祈祷自己可以入睡。高中——或者称为炼狱更为恰当!如果有什么方式能够弥补我的罪过,那恐怕就是我读高中的记录了。这种厌烦感不是我曾经体会过的,每一天看上去都要比前一天更加极度无聊。也许这就是我睡眠的方式——如果说,睡眠的含义就是在变幻的时期内处于呆滞状态的话。我凝视着食堂角落水泥墙上的裂纹,想象着它们所呈现的花纹其实并不存在。 [点击阅读]
波洛圣诞探案记
作者:佚名
章节:10 人气:2
摘要:我亲爱的詹姆斯:你一直是我最忠实最宽容的读者之一,正因为这样,当我受到你一点儿批评,我就为此感到极大的不安。你抱怨说我的谋杀事件变得太文雅了,事实上是太贫血了。称渴望一件“血淋淋的暴力谋杀”,一件不容质疑的谋杀案:这就是特别为你而作的故事。我希望它能让你满意。 [点击阅读]
海顿斯坦诗选
作者:佚名
章节:20 人气:2
摘要:海神庙完成了,耸立在玫瑰如绣的花园里,旁边站着建造者,臂膀上,靠着他年轻的妻.她用孩童般的愉悦之声说:“我的杯中溢满了快乐,把我带到纳克萨斯①海滨的人,如今在这里建造了一座光辉的神庙,这是他不朽的故土。”她的丈夫严肃地说:“人死后,他的名字会消失,而神庙,却永远如此屹立。一个有作为的艺术家,在看到自己的精神为人传颂时,他就永远活着,行动着。 [点击阅读]
环游黑海历险记
作者:佚名
章节:33 人气:2
摘要:范-密泰恩和他的仆人布吕诺在散步、观望和聊天,对正在发生的事情一无所知。君士坦丁堡的托普哈内广场一向因人群的来往和喧哗而热闹啡凡,但在8月16日那一天的晚上6点钟,却静悄悄地毫无生气,几乎是一片荒凉。从通向博斯普鲁斯海峡的港口高处看下去,仍能发现它迷人的景色,但里面却没有什么人。勉强有一些外国人匆匆而过,走上狭窄、肮脏、泥泞、有黄狗挡道的通向佩拉郊区的小街。 [点击阅读]
看不见的城市
作者:佚名
章节:18 人气:2
摘要:第一章马可·波罗描述他旅途上经过的城市的时候,忽必烈汗不一定完全相信他的每一句话,但是鞑靼皇帝听取这个威尼斯青年的报告,的确比听别些使者或考察员的报告更专心而且更有兴趣。在帝王的生活中,征服别人的土地而使版图不断扩大,除了带来骄傲之外,跟着又会感觉寂寞而又松弛,因为觉悟到不久便会放弃认识和了解新领土的念头。 [点击阅读]
纯真年代
作者:佚名
章节:36 人气:2
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]
Copyright© 2006-2019. All Rights Reserved.