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:
高尔夫球场的疑云
作者:佚名
章节:28 人气:2
摘要:我知道有这么一则已为人所共知的铁事,它的大意是:一位年轻作家决心要把他的故事的开头写得独具一格、有声有色,想借此引起那些读腻了声色犬马之类文章的编辑们的注意,便写下了如下的句子:“‘该死!’公爵夫人说道。”真怪,我这故事的开头倒也是同一个形式.只不过说这句话的女士不是一位公爵夫人罢了。那是六月初的一天,我在巴黎刚办完了一些事务,正乘着早车回伦敦去。 [点击阅读]
1408幻影凶间
作者:佚名
章节:4 人气:2
摘要:一迈克·恩斯林还站在旋转门里面的时候就看到了奥林——多尔芬旅馆的经理——正坐在大堂里厚厚的椅子上。迈克心里一沉。要是我让律师一块儿来就好了,他想。哎,可现在为时已晚。即使奥林已经决定设置重重障碍,想办法不让迈克进入1408房间,那也没什么大不了的,总有办法对付他的。迈克走出旋转门后,奥林伸出又短又粗的手走了过来。 [点击阅读]
万延元年的足球队
作者:佚名
章节:13 人气:2
摘要:死者引导我们我在黎明前的黑暗中醒来,寻求着一种热切的“期待”的感觉,摸索着噩梦残破的意识。一如咽下一口要以烧着你五脏六腑的威士忌,这种“期待”的感觉热辣辣的。我心中忐忑,摸索着,企望它能切实重返体内。然而这种摸索却永远都是徒劳枉然。手指已没了气力,我只好将它们并拢起来。分明觉出自己全身的骨肉都已分离。迎着光亮,我的意识畏葸不前,这种感觉也正转化成一种钝痛。 [点击阅读]
个人的体验
作者:佚名
章节:13 人气:2
摘要:鸟俯视着野鹿般昂然而优雅地摆在陈列架上的精美的非洲地图,很有克制地发出轻微的叹息。书店店员们从制服外衣里探出来的脖颈和手腕,星星点点凸起了鸡皮疙瘩。对于鸟的叹息,她们没有给予特别注意。暮色已深,初夏的暑热,犹如一个死去的巨人的体温,从覆盖地表的大气里全然脱落。人们都在幽暗的潜意识里摸摸索索地追寻白天残存在皮肤上的温暖记忆,最终只能无奈地吐出含混暧昧的叹息。 [点击阅读]
人是世上的大野鸡
作者:佚名
章节:15 人气:2
摘要:坑地阵亡战士纪念碑四周长满了玫瑰。这是一片茂密的灌木林。杂乱丛生,小草透不过气来。白色的小花开着,像纸一样卷起。花儿簌簌作响。天色破晓,就快天亮了。每天早上独自穿过马路去往磨坊的路上,温迪施数着一天的时光。在纪念碑前,他数着年头。每当自行车过了纪念碑后的第一棵杨树,他数着天数,从那儿他骑向同一个坑地。夜晚,每当温迪施锁上磨坊,他又数上一遍年头和天数。他远远地看着小小的白玫瑰、阵亡战士纪念碑和杨树。 [点击阅读]
今天我不愿面对自己
作者:佚名
章节:11 人气:2
摘要:第一章我被传讯了。周四上午十点整。我总是经常被传讯:周二上午十点整,周六上午十点整,周三或者周一。几年就像一周似的,我感到惊讶的是,夏末一过,冬天又即将来临了。在去有轨电车的路上,结着白色浆果的灌木丛又从篱笆上垂挂下来了。像下面被缝上的珠光纽扣,也许一直长到地里,或者就像小馒头。对转动鸟嘴的白色鸟头来说,这些浆果太小了,但我还是忍不住想到白色鸟头。想得人直犯晕。 [点击阅读]
他杀的疑惑
作者:佚名
章节:9 人气:2
摘要:最早发现山桥启太郎死去的,是山桥的夫人佐代子。那天,山桥从早晨起就失去了踪影。其实,说“从早晨起”还不正确。山桥离开自己家的时候,是前一天晚上9点以后。他从公司下班回家,吃了晚饭以后,说有一些东西要写,便去了附近当作工作室的公寓里。山桥在学生时代起就喜欢写诗歌和小说,还亲自主恃着一份《同人》杂志,屡次在文艺类杂志的有奖征稿中人眩对他来说,写作几乎已经超越了纯兴趣的阶段。 [点击阅读]
偷影子的人
作者:佚名
章节:17 人气:2
摘要:有些人只拥吻影子,于是只拥有幸福的幻影。——莎士比亚爱情里最需要的,是想象力。每个人必须用尽全力和全部的想象力来形塑对方,并丝毫不向现实低头。那么,当双方的幻想相遇……就再也没有比这更美的景象了。——罗曼·加里(RomainGary)我害怕黑夜,害怕夜影中不请自来的形影,它们在帏幔的褶皱里、在卧室的壁纸上舞动,再随时间消散。但只要我一回忆童年,它们便会再度现身,可怕又充满威胁性。 [点击阅读]
冤家,一个爱情故事
作者:佚名
章节:10 人气:2
摘要:第一章1赫尔曼·布罗德翻了个身,睁开一只眼睛。他睡得稀里糊涂,拿不准自己是在美国,在齐甫凯夫还是在德国难民营里。他甚至想象自己正躲在利普斯克的草料棚里。有时,这几处地方在他心里混在一起。他知道自己是在布鲁克林,可是他能听到纳粹分子的哈喝声。他们用刺刀乱捅,想把他吓出来,他拚命往草料棚深处钻。刺刀尖都碰到了他的脑袋。需要有个果断的动作才能完全清醒过来。 [点击阅读]
吉檀迦利
作者:佚名
章节:11 人气:2
摘要:冰心译1你已经使我永生,这样做是你的欢乐。这脆薄的杯儿,你不断地把它倒空,又不断地以新生命来充满。这小小的苇笛,你携带着它逾山越谷,从笛管里吹出永新的音乐。在你双手的不朽的按抚下,我的小小的心,消融在无边快乐之中,发出不可言说的词调。你的无穷的赐予只倾入我小小的手里。时代过去了,你还在倾注,而我的手里还有余量待充满。 [点击阅读]
Copyright© 2006-2019. All Rights Reserved.