章节正文
`O up and spake an eldern knight,
Sat at the King's right knee:
"Sir Patrick Spens is the best sailor
That ever sailed the sea."'
"Now I'll write my letter," said the king, who was endeavouring to
make himself comfortable in his somewhat contracted tower.
`The King has written a braid letter
And sealed it with his hand;
And sent it to Sir Patrick Spens,
Was walking on the strand.'
"Read the letter out loud, Rafe, and then you'll remember what to
do."
`"To Noroway! to Noroway!
To Noroway o'er the faem!
The King's daughter of Noroway,
`Tis thou maun bring her hame,"'
read Rafe.
"Now do the next part!"
"I can't; I'm going to chuck up that next part. I wish you'd do Sir
Patrick until it comes to `Ye lee! `ye lee!'"
"No, that won't do, Rafe. We have to mix up everybody else, but
it's too bad to spoil Sir Patrick."
"Well, I'll give him to you, then, and be the king. I don't mind so
much now that we've got such a good tower; and why can't I stop up
there even after the ship sets sail and look out over the sea with a
telescope? That's the way Elizabeth did the time she was king."
"You can stay till you have to come down and be a dead Scots lord.
I'm not going to lie there as I did last time, with nobody but the
Wrig for a Scots lord, and her forgetting to be dead!"
Sir Apple-Cheek then essayed the hard part `chucked up' by Rafe. It
was rather difficult, I confess, as the first four lines were in
pantomime, and required great versatility:-
`The first word that Sir Patrick read,
Fu' loud, loud laughed he:
The neist word that Sir Patrick read,
The tear blinded his e'e.'
These conflicting emotions successfully simulated, Sir Patrick
resumed:-
`"O wha is he has done this deed,
And tauld the King o' me,--
To send us out, at this time o' the year,
To sail upon the sea?"'
Then the king stood up in the unstable tower and shouted his own
orders:-
`"Be it wind, be it weet, be it hail, be it sleet,
Our ship maun sail the faem;
The King's daughter o' Noroway,
`Tis we maun fetch her hame."'
"Can't we rig the ship a little better?" demanded our stage-manager
at this juncture. "It isn't half as good as the tower."
Ten minutes' hard work, in which we assisted, produced something a
trifle more nautical and seaworthy than the first craft. The ground
with a few boards spread upon it was the deck. Tarpaulin sheets
were arranged on sticks to represent sails, and we located the
vessel so cleverly that two slender trees shot out of the middle of
it and served as the tall topmasts.
"Now let us make believe that we've hoisted our sails on `Mononday
morn' and been in Noroway `weeks but only twae,'" said our leading
man; "and your time has come now,"--turning to us.
We felt indeed that it had; but plucking up sufficient courage for
the lords o' Noroway, we cried accusingly,--
`"Ye Scottishmen spend a' our King's gowd,
And a' our Queenis fee!"'
Oh but Sir Apple-Cheek was glorious as he roared virtuously:-
`"Ye lee! ye lee! ye leers loud,
Fu' loudly do you lee!
"For I brocht as much white monie
As gane my men and me,
An' I brocht a half-fou o' gude red gowd
Out ower the sea wi' me.
"But betide me well, betide me wae,
This day I'se leave the shore;
And never spend my King's monie
`Mong Noroway dogs no more.
"Make ready, make ready, my merry men a',
Our gude ship sails the morn."'
"Now you be the sailors, please!"
Glad to be anything but Noroway dogs, we recited obediently--
`"Now, ever alake, my master dear,
I fear a deadly storm?
. . . . . . .
And if ye gang to sea, master,
I fear we'll come to harm."'
We added much to the effect of this stanza by flinging ourselves on
the turf and embracing Sir Patrick's knees, with which touch of
melodrama he was enchanted.
Then came a storm so terrible that I can hardly trust myself to
describe its fury. The entire corps dramatique personated the
elements, and tore the gallant ship in twain, while Sir Patrick
shouted in the teeth of the gale--
`"O whaur will I get a gude sailor
To tak' my helm in hand,
Till I get up to the tall topmast
To see if I can spy land?"'
I knew the words a trifle better than Francesca, and thus succeeded
in forestalling her as the fortunate hero--
`"O here I am, a sailor gude,
To tak' the helm in hand,
Till you go up to the tall topmast;
But I fear ye'll ne'er spy land."'
And the heroic sailor was right, for
`He hadna gone a step, a step,
A step but only ane,
When a bout flew out o' our goodly ship,
And the saut sea it came in.'
Then we fetched a web o' the silken claith, and anither o' the
twine, as our captain bade us; we wapped them into our ship's side
and letna the sea come in; but in vain, in vain. Laith were the
gude Scots lords to weet their cork-heeled shune, but they did, and
wat their hats abune; for the ship sank in spite of their despairing
efforts,
`And mony was the gude lord's son
That never mair cam' hame.'
Francesca and I were now obliged to creep from under the tarpaulins
and personate the dishevelled ladies on the strand.
"Will your hair come down?" asked the manager gravely.
"It will and shall," we rejoined; and it did.
`The ladies wrang their fingers white,
The maidens tore their hair.'
"Do tear your hair, Jessie! It's the only thing you have to do, and
you never do it on time!"
The Wrig made ready to howl with offended pride, but we soothed her,
and she tore her yellow curls with her chubby hands.
`And lang, lang may the maidens sit
Wi' there gowd kaims i' the hair,
A' waitin' for their ain dear luves,
For them they'll see nae mair.'
I did a bit of sobbing here that would have been a credit to Sarah
Siddons.
"Splendid! Grand!" cried Sir Patrick, as he stretched himself fifty
fathoms below the imaginary surface of the water, and gave explicit
ante-mortem directions to the other Scots lords to spread themselves
out in like manner.
`Half ower, half ower to Aberdour,
`Tis fifty fathoms deep,
And there lies gude Sir Patrick Spens,
Wi' the Scots lords at his feet.'
"Oh, it is grand!" he repeated jubilantly. "If I could only be the
king and see it all from Dunfermline tower! Could you be Sir
Patrick once, do you think, now that I have shown you how?" he asked
Francesca.
"Indeed I could!" she replied, glowing with excitement (and small
wonder) at being chosen for the principal role.
"The only trouble is that you do look awfully like a girl in that
white frock."
Francesca appeared rather ashamed at her natural disqualifications
for the part of Sir Patrick. "If I had only worn my long black
cloak!" she sighed.
"Oh, I have an idea!" cried the boy. "Hand her the minister's gown
from the hedge, Rafe. You see, Mistress Ogilvie of Crummylowe lent
us this old gown for a sail; she's doing something to a new one, and
this was her pattern."
Francesca slipped it on over her white serge, and the Pettybaw
parson should have seen her with the long veil of her dark locks
floating over his ministerial garment.
"It seems a pity to put up your hair," said the stage manager
critically, "because you look so jolly and wild with it down, but I
suppose you must; and will you have Rafe's bonnet?"
Yes, she would have Rafe's bonnet; and when she perched it on the
side of her head and paced the deck restlessly, while the black gown
floated behind in the breeze, we all cheered with enthusiasm, and,
having rebuilt the ship, began the play again from the moment of the
gale. The wreck was more horriblyrealistic than ever, this time,
because of our rehearsal; and when I crawled from under the masts
and sails to seat myself on the beach with the Wrig, I had scarcely
strength enough to remove the cooky from her hand and set her a-
combing her curly locks.
When our new Sir Patrick stretched herself on the ocean bed, she
fell with a despairing wail; her gown spread like a pall over the
earth, the Highland bonnet came off, and her hair floated over a
haphazard pillow of Jessie's wildflowers.
"Oh, it is fine, that part; but from here is where it always goes
wrong!" cried the king from the castle tower. "It's too bad to take
the maidens away from the strand where they look so bonnie, and Rafe
is splendid as the gude sailor, but Dandie looks so silly as one
little dead Scots lord; if we only had one more person, young or
old, if he was ever so stupid!"
"WOULD I DO?"
This unexpected offer came from behind one of the trees that served
as topmasts, and at the same moment there issued from that
delightfully secluded retreat Ronald Macdonald, in knickerbockers
and a golf-cap.
Suddenly as this apparition came, there was no lack of welcome on
the children's part. They shouted his name in glee, embraced his
legs, and pulled him about like affectionate young bears. Confusion
reigned for a moment, while Sir Patrick rose from her sea grave all
in a mist of floating hair, from which hung impromptu garlands of
pink thyme and green grasses.
"Allow me to do the honours, please, Jamie," said Mr. Macdonald,
when he could escape from the children's clutches. "Have you been
properly presented? I suppose not. Ladies, the young Master of
Rowardennan. Jamie, Miss Hamilton and Miss Monroe from the United
States of America." Sir Apple-Cheek bowed respectfully. "Let me
present the Honourable Ralph Ardmore, also from the castle, together
with Dandie Dinmont and the Wrig from Crummylowe. Sir Patrick, it
is indeed a pleasure to see you again. Must you take off my gown?
I had thought it was past use, but it never looked so well before."
"YOUR gown?"
The counterfeit presentment of Sir Patrick vanished as the long
drapery flew to the hedge whence it came, and there remained only an
offended young goddess, who swung her dark mane tempestuously to one
Sat at the King's right knee:
"Sir Patrick Spens is the best sailor
That ever sailed the sea."'
"Now I'll write my letter," said the king, who was endeavouring to
make himself comfortable in his somewhat contracted tower.
`The King has written a braid letter
And sealed it with his hand;
And sent it to Sir Patrick Spens,
Was walking on the strand.'
"Read the letter out loud, Rafe, and then you'll remember what to
do."
`"To Noroway! to Noroway!
To Noroway o'er the faem!
The King's daughter of Noroway,
`Tis thou maun bring her hame,"'
read Rafe.
"Now do the next part!"
"I can't; I'm going to chuck up that next part. I wish you'd do Sir
Patrick until it comes to `Ye lee! `ye lee!'"
"No, that won't do, Rafe. We have to mix up everybody else, but
it's too bad to spoil Sir Patrick."
"Well, I'll give him to you, then, and be the king. I don't mind so
much now that we've got such a good tower; and why can't I stop up
there even after the ship sets sail and look out over the sea with a
telescope? That's the way Elizabeth did the time she was king."
"You can stay till you have to come down and be a dead Scots lord.
I'm not going to lie there as I did last time, with nobody but the
Wrig for a Scots lord, and her forgetting to be dead!"
Sir Apple-Cheek then essayed the hard part `chucked up' by Rafe. It
was rather difficult, I confess, as the first four lines were in
pantomime, and required great versatility:-
`The first word that Sir Patrick read,
Fu' loud, loud laughed he:
The neist word that Sir Patrick read,
The tear blinded his e'e.'
These conflicting emotions successfully simulated, Sir Patrick
resumed:-
`"O wha is he has done this deed,
And tauld the King o' me,--
To send us out, at this time o' the year,
To sail upon the sea?"'
Then the king stood up in the unstable tower and shouted his own
orders:-
`"Be it wind, be it weet, be it hail, be it sleet,
Our ship maun sail the faem;
The King's daughter o' Noroway,
`Tis we maun fetch her hame."'
"Can't we rig the ship a little better?" demanded our stage-manager
at this juncture. "It isn't half as good as the tower."
Ten minutes' hard work, in which we assisted, produced something a
trifle more nautical and seaworthy than the first craft. The ground
with a few boards spread upon it was the deck. Tarpaulin sheets
were arranged on sticks to represent sails, and we located the
vessel so cleverly that two slender trees shot out of the middle of
it and served as the tall topmasts.
"Now let us make believe that we've hoisted our sails on `Mononday
morn' and been in Noroway `weeks but only twae,'" said our leading
man; "and your time has come now,"--turning to us.
We felt indeed that it had; but plucking up sufficient courage for
the lords o' Noroway, we cried accusingly,--
`"Ye Scottishmen spend a' our King's gowd,
And a' our Queenis fee!"'
Oh but Sir Apple-Cheek was glorious as he roared virtuously:-
`"Ye lee! ye lee! ye leers loud,
Fu' loudly do you lee!
"For I brocht as much white monie
As gane my men and me,
An' I brocht a half-fou o' gude red gowd
Out ower the sea wi' me.
"But betide me well, betide me wae,
This day I'se leave the shore;
And never spend my King's monie
`Mong Noroway dogs no more.
"Make ready, make ready, my merry men a',
Our gude ship sails the morn."'
"Now you be the sailors, please!"
Glad to be anything but Noroway dogs, we recited obediently--
`"Now, ever alake, my master dear,
I fear a deadly storm?
. . . . . . .
And if ye gang to sea, master,
I fear we'll come to harm."'
We added much to the effect of this stanza by flinging ourselves on
the turf and embracing Sir Patrick's knees, with which touch of
melodrama he was enchanted.
Then came a storm so terrible that I can hardly trust myself to
describe its fury. The entire corps dramatique personated the
elements, and tore the gallant ship in twain, while Sir Patrick
shouted in the teeth of the gale--
`"O whaur will I get a gude sailor
To tak' my helm in hand,
Till I get up to the tall topmast
To see if I can spy land?"'
I knew the words a trifle better than Francesca, and thus succeeded
in forestalling her as the fortunate hero--
`"O here I am, a sailor gude,
To tak' the helm in hand,
Till you go up to the tall topmast;
But I fear ye'll ne'er spy land."'
And the heroic sailor was right, for
`He hadna gone a step, a step,
A step but only ane,
When a bout flew out o' our goodly ship,
And the saut sea it came in.'
Then we fetched a web o' the silken claith, and anither o' the
twine, as our captain bade us; we wapped them into our ship's side
and letna the sea come in; but in vain, in vain. Laith were the
gude Scots lords to weet their cork-heeled shune, but they did, and
wat their hats abune; for the ship sank in spite of their despairing
efforts,
`And mony was the gude lord's son
That never mair cam' hame.'
Francesca and I were now obliged to creep from under the tarpaulins
and personate the dishevelled ladies on the strand.
"Will your hair come down?" asked the manager gravely.
"It will and shall," we rejoined; and it did.
`The ladies wrang their fingers white,
The maidens tore their hair.'
"Do tear your hair, Jessie! It's the only thing you have to do, and
you never do it on time!"
The Wrig made ready to howl with offended pride, but we soothed her,
and she tore her yellow curls with her chubby hands.
`And lang, lang may the maidens sit
Wi' there gowd kaims i' the hair,
A' waitin' for their ain dear luves,
For them they'll see nae mair.'
I did a bit of sobbing here that would have been a credit to Sarah
Siddons.
"Splendid! Grand!" cried Sir Patrick, as he stretched himself fifty
fathoms below the imaginary surface of the water, and gave explicit
ante-mortem directions to the other Scots lords to spread themselves
out in like manner.
`Half ower, half ower to Aberdour,
`Tis fifty fathoms deep,
And there lies gude Sir Patrick Spens,
Wi' the Scots lords at his feet.'
"Oh, it is grand!" he repeated jubilantly. "If I could only be the
king and see it all from Dunfermline tower! Could you be Sir
Patrick once, do you think, now that I have shown you how?" he asked
Francesca.
"Indeed I could!" she replied, glowing with excitement (and small
wonder) at being chosen for the principal role.
"The only trouble is that you do look awfully like a girl in that
white frock."
Francesca appeared rather ashamed at her natural disqualifications
for the part of Sir Patrick. "If I had only worn my long black
cloak!" she sighed.
"Oh, I have an idea!" cried the boy. "Hand her the minister's gown
from the hedge, Rafe. You see, Mistress Ogilvie of Crummylowe lent
us this old gown for a sail; she's doing something to a new one, and
this was her pattern."
Francesca slipped it on over her white serge, and the Pettybaw
parson should have seen her with the long veil of her dark locks
floating over his ministerial garment.
"It seems a pity to put up your hair," said the stage manager
critically, "because you look so jolly and wild with it down, but I
suppose you must; and will you have Rafe's bonnet?"
Yes, she would have Rafe's bonnet; and when she perched it on the
side of her head and paced the deck restlessly, while the black gown
floated behind in the breeze, we all cheered with enthusiasm, and,
having rebuilt the ship, began the play again from the moment of the
gale. The wreck was more horriblyrealistic than ever, this time,
because of our rehearsal; and when I crawled from under the masts
and sails to seat myself on the beach with the Wrig, I had scarcely
strength enough to remove the cooky from her hand and set her a-
combing her curly locks.
When our new Sir Patrick stretched herself on the ocean bed, she
fell with a despairing wail; her gown spread like a pall over the
earth, the Highland bonnet came off, and her hair floated over a
haphazard pillow of Jessie's wildflowers.
"Oh, it is fine, that part; but from here is where it always goes
wrong!" cried the king from the castle tower. "It's too bad to take
the maidens away from the strand where they look so bonnie, and Rafe
is splendid as the gude sailor, but Dandie looks so silly as one
little dead Scots lord; if we only had one more person, young or
old, if he was ever so stupid!"
"WOULD I DO?"
This unexpected offer came from behind one of the trees that served
as topmasts, and at the same moment there issued from that
delightfully secluded retreat Ronald Macdonald, in knickerbockers
and a golf-cap.
Suddenly as this apparition came, there was no lack of welcome on
the children's part. They shouted his name in glee, embraced his
legs, and pulled him about like affectionate young bears. Confusion
reigned for a moment, while Sir Patrick rose from her sea grave all
in a mist of floating hair, from which hung impromptu garlands of
pink thyme and green grasses.
"Allow me to do the honours, please, Jamie," said Mr. Macdonald,
when he could escape from the children's clutches. "Have you been
properly presented? I suppose not. Ladies, the young Master of
Rowardennan. Jamie, Miss Hamilton and Miss Monroe from the United
States of America." Sir Apple-Cheek bowed respectfully. "Let me
present the Honourable Ralph Ardmore, also from the castle, together
with Dandie Dinmont and the Wrig from Crummylowe. Sir Patrick, it
is indeed a pleasure to see you again. Must you take off my gown?
I had thought it was past use, but it never looked so well before."
"YOUR gown?"
The counterfeit presentment of Sir Patrick vanished as the long
drapery flew to the hedge whence it came, and there remained only an
offended young goddess, who swung her dark mane tempestuously to one
- confess [kən´fes]
vt.供认；坦白；承认 (初中英语单词) - slender [´slendə] a.细长的；微薄的 (初中英语单词)
- glorious [´glɔ:riəs] a.光荣的；辉煌的 (初中英语单词)
- deadly [´dedli] a.致命的 ad.死一般地 (初中英语单词)
- stanza [´stænzə] n.(诗的)节 (初中英语单词)
- gallant [´gælənt, gə´lænt] a.英勇的；华丽的 (初中英语单词)
- trifle [´traifəl] n.琐事，小事；少量 (初中英语单词)
- fortunate [´fɔ:tʃənət] a.幸运的，侥幸的 (初中英语单词)
- manager [´mænidʒə] n.经理；管理人；干事 (初中英语单词)
- excitement [ik´saitmənt] n.兴奋；骚动；煽动 (初中英语单词)
- principal [´prinsəpəl] a.主要的 n.负责人 (初中英语单词)
- ashamed [ə´ʃeimd] a.惭愧；不好意思 (初中英语单词)
- mistress [´mistris] n.女主人；情妇；女能手 (初中英语单词)
- breeze [bri:z] n.微风；不费力的事 (初中英语单词)
- enthusiasm [in´θju:ziæzəm] n.热心；狂热；爱好 (初中英语单词)
- realistic [riə´listik] a.现实主义的；现实的 (初中英语单词)
- retreat [ri´tri:t] v.&n.退却；撤退；放弃 (初中英语单词)
- welcome [´welkəm] a.受欢迎的；可喜的 (初中英语单词)
- honourable [´ɔnərəbəl] a.荣誉的；正直的 (初中英语单词)
- goddess [´gɔdis] n.女神 (初中英语单词)
- successfully [sək´sesfəli] ad.成功地 (高中英语单词)
- heroic [hi´rəuik] a.英雄的，英勇的 (高中英语单词)
- goodly [´gudli] a.适意的；漂亮的 (高中英语单词)
- silken [´silkən] a.丝制的；柔软光滑的 (高中英语单词)
- imaginary [i´mædʒinəri] a.想象的；虚构的 (高中英语单词)
- repeated [ri´pi:tid] a.反复的；重复的 (高中英语单词)
- awfully [´ɔ:fuli] ad.令人畏惧地 (高中英语单词)
- bonnet [´bɔnit] n.无边女帽；童帽 (高中英语单词)
- highland [´hailənd] n.山地，高地 (高中英语单词)
- unexpected [ʌniks´pektid] a.突然的；意外的 (高中英语单词)
- affectionate [ə´fekʃənit] a.亲爱的 (高中英语单词)
- rehearsal [ri´hə:səl] v.(使)排练；背诵 (英语四级单词)
- respectfully [ris´pektfuli] ad.恭敬地 (英语四级单词)
- counterfeit [´kauntəfit] a.伪造的 v.&n.伪造 (英语四级单词)
- whence [wens] ad.从何处；从那里 (英语四级单词)
- contracted [kən´træktid] a.收缩了的；缩略的 (英语六级单词)
- restlessly [´restlisli] ad.不安定地；烦躁地 (英语六级单词)
- horribly [´hɔrəbli] ad.恐怖地 (英语六级单词)
- despairing [di´speəriŋ] a.感到绝望的 (英语六级单词)
- apparition [,æpə´riʃən] n.(幽灵)出现；鬼；幻影 (英语六级单词)
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