章节正文
another here, but it must have been this holy man talking to himself."
So Robin lay watching the Friar, and the Friar, all unknowing that
he was so overlooked, ate his meal placidly. At last he was done,
and, having first wiped his greasy hands upon the ferns and wild thyme
(and sweeter napkin ne'er had king in all the world), he took up
his flask and began talking to himself as though he were another man,
and answering himself as though he were somebody else.
"Dear lad, thou art the sweetest fellow in all the world,
I do love thee as a lover loveth his lass. La, thou dost
make me shamed to speak so to me in this solitary place,
no one being by, and yet if thou wilt have me say so,
I do love thee as thou lovest me. Nay then, wilt thou not
take a drink of good Malmsey? After thee, lad, after thee.
Nay, I beseech thee, sweeten the draught with thy lips
(here he passed the flask from his right hand to his left).
An thou wilt force it on me so, I must needs do thy bidding,
yet with the more pleasure do I so as I drink thy very great health
(here he took a long, deep draught). And now, sweet lad,
'tis thy turn next (here he passed the bottle from his left
hand back again to his right). I take it, sweet chuck,
and here's wishing thee as much good as thou wishest me."
Saying this, he took another draught, and truly he drank
enough for two.
All this time merry Robin lay upon the bank and listened, while his
stomach so quaked with laughter that he was forced to press his palm
across his mouth to keep it from bursting forth; for, truly, he would
not have spoiled such a goodly jest for the half of Nottinghamshire.
Having gotten his breath from his last draught, the Friar began talking
again in this wise: "Now, sweet lad, canst thou not sing me a song?
La, I know not, I am but in an ill voice this day; prythee ask me not;
dost thou not hear how I croak like a frog? Nay, nay, thy voice
is as sweet as any bullfinch; come, sing, I prythee, I would rather
hear thee sing than eat a fair feast. Alas, I would fain not sing
before one that can pipe so well and hath heard so many goodly songs
and ballads, ne'ertheless, an thou wilt have it so, I will do my best.
But now methinks that thou and I might sing some fair song together;
dost thou not know a certain dainty little catch called `The Loving Youth
and the Scornful Maid'? Why, truly, methinks I have heard it ere now.
Then dost thou not think that thou couldst take the lass's part gif
I take the lad's? I know not but I will try; begin thou with the lad
and I will follow with the lass."
Then, singing first with a voice deep and gruff, and anon in one high
and squeaking, he blithely trolled the merry catch of
THE LOVING YOUTH AND THE SCORNFUL MAID _HE
"Ah, it's wilt thou come with me, my love?
And it's wilt thou, love, he mine?
For I will give unto thee, my love,
Gay knots and ribbons so fine.
I'll woo thee, love, on my bended knee,
And I'll pipe sweet songs to none but thee.
Then it's hark! hark! hark!
To the winged lark
And it's hark to the cooing dove!
And the bright daffodil
Groweth down by the rill,
So come thou and be my love.
SHE
"Now get thee away, young man so fine;
Now get thee away, I say;
For my true love shall never be thine,
And so thou hadst better not stay.
Thou art not a fine enough lad for me,
So I'll wait till a better young man I see.
For it's hark! hark! hark!
To the winged lark,
And it's hark to the cooing dove!
And the bright daffodil
Groweth down by the rill,
Yet never I'll be thy love.
HE
"Then straight will I seek for another fair she,
For many a maid can be found,
And as thou wilt never have aught of me,
By thee will I never be bound.
For never is a blossom in the field so rare,
But others are found that are just as fair.
So it's hark! hark! hark!
To the joyous lark
And it's hark to the cooing dove!
And the bright daffodil
Groweth down by the rill,
And I'll seek me another dear love.
SHE
"Young man, turn not so very quick away
Another fair lass to find.
Methinks I have spoken in haste today,
Nor have I made up my mind_,
_
And if thou only wilt stay with me,
I'll love no other, sweet lad, but thee_."
Here Robin could contain himself no longer but burst forth into a mighty
roar of laughter; then, the holy Friar keeping on with the song, he joined
in the chorus, and together they sang, or, as one might say, bellowed:
"_So it's hark! hark! hark!
To the joyous lark
And it's hark to the cooing dove!
For the bright daffodil
Groweth down by the rill
And I'll be thine own true love_."
So they sang together, for the stout Friar did not seem to have heard
Robin's laughter, neither did he seem to know that the yeoman had joined
in with the song, but, with eyes half closed, looking straight before
him and wagging his round head from side to side in time to the music,
he kept on bravely to the end, he and Robin finishing up with a mighty
roar that might have been heard a mile. But no sooner had the last word
been sung than the holy man seized his steel cap, clapped it on his head,
and springing to his feet, cried in a great voice, "What spy have we here?
Come forth, thou limb of evil, and I will carve thee into as fine pudding
meat as e'er a wife in Yorkshire cooked of a Sunday." Hereupon he drew
from beneath his robes a great broadsword full as stout as was Robin's.
"Nay, put up thy pinking iron, friend," quoth Robin,
standing up with the tears of laughter still on his cheeks.
"Folk who have sung so sweetly together should not fight thereafter."
Hereupon he leaped down the bank to where the other stood.
"I tell thee, friend," said he, "my throat is as parched
with that song as e'er a barleystubble in October. Hast thou
haply any Malmsey left in that stout pottle?"
"Truly," said the Friar in a glum voice, "thou dost ask
thyself freely where thou art not bidden. Yet I trust I am
too good a Christian to refuse any man drink that is athirst.
Such as there is o't thou art welcome to a drink of the same."
And he held the pottle out to Robin.
Robin took it without more ado and putting it to his lips, tilted his
head back, while that which was within said "glug! "lug! glug!"
for more than three winks, I wot. The stout Friar watched Robin
anxiously the while, and when he was done took the pottle quickly.
He shook it, held it betwixt his eyes and the light, looked reproachfully
at the yeoman, and straightway placed it at his own lips.
When it came away again there was nought within it.
"Doss thou know the country hereabouts, thou good and holy man?"
asked Robin, laughing.
"Yea, somewhat," answered the other dryly.
"And dost thou know of a certain spot called Fountain Abbey?"
"Yea, somewhat."
"Then perchance thou knowest also of a certain one who goeth
by the name of the Curtal Friar of Fountain Abbey."
"Yea, somewhat."
"Well then, good fellow, holy father, or whatever thou art,"
quoth Robin, "I would know whether this same Friar is to be found
upon this side of the river or the other."
"That," quoth the Friar, "is a practical question upon
which the cunning rules appertaining to logic touch not.
I do advise thee to find that out by the aid of thine own
five senses; sight, feeling, and what not."
"I do wish much," quoth Robin, looking thoughtfully at the stout priest,
"to cross yon ford and strive to find this same good Friar."
"Truly," said the other piously, "it is a goodly wish on the part
of one so young. Far be it from me to check thee in so holy a quest.
Friend, the river is free to all."
"Yea, good father," said Robin, "but thou seest that my
clothes are of the finest and I fain would not get them wet.
Methinks thy shoulders are stout and broad; couldst thou not
find it in thy heart to carry me across?"
"Now, by the white hand of the holy Lady of the Fountain!" burst forth
the Friar in a mighty rage, "dost thou, thou poor puny stripling,
thou kiss-my-lady-la poppenjay; thou--thou What shall I call thee?
Dost thou ask me, the holy Tuck, to carry thee? Now I swear--"
Here he paused suddenly, then slowly the anger passed from his face,
and his little eyes twinkled once more. "But why should I not?"
quoth he piously.
"Did not the holy Saint Christopher ever carry the stranger across the river?
And should I, poor sinner that I am, be ashamed to do likewise?
Come with me, stranger, and I will do thy bidding in an humble frame
of mind." So saying, he clambered up the bank, closely followed by Robin,
and led the way to the shallow pebbly ford, chuckling to himself the while
as though he were enjoying some goodly jest within himself.
Having come to the ford, he girded up his robes about his loins,
tucked his good broadsword beneath his arm, and stooped his
back to take Robin upon it. Suddenly he straightened up.
"Methinks," quoth he, "thou'lt get thy weapon wet.
Let me tuck it beneath mine arm along with mine own."
"Nay, good father," said Robin, "I would not burden thee with aught
of mine but myself."
"Dost thou think," said the Friar mildly, "that the good Saint Christopher
would ha' sought his own ease so? Nay, give me thy tool as I bid thee,
for I would carry it as a penance to my pride."
Upon this, without more ado, Robin Hood unbuckled his sword from his side
and handed it to the other, who thrust it with his own beneath his arm.
Then once more the Friar bent his back, and, Robin having mounted upon it,
he stepped sturdily into the water and so strodeonward, splashing in
the shoal, and breaking all the smooth surface into ever-widening rings.
At last he reached the other side and Robin leaped lightly from his back.
"Many thanks, good father," quoth he. "Thou art indeed a good and holy man.
Prythee give me my sword and let me away, for I am in haste."
At this the stout Friar looked upon Robin for a long time,
his head on one side, and with a most waggish twist to his face;
then he slowly winked his right eye. "Nay, good youth,"
said he gently, "I doubt not that thou art in haste with thine affairs,
yet thou dost think nothing of mine. Thine are of a carnal nature;
mine are of a spiritual nature, a holy work, so to speak;
moreover, mine affairs do lie upon the other side of this stream.
I see by thy quest of this same holy recluse that thou
art a good young man and most reverent to the cloth.
I did get wet coming hither, and am sadly afraid that should I
wade the water again I might get certain cricks and pains i'
the joints that would mar my devotions for many a day to come.
I know that since I have so humbly done thy bidding thou
wilt carry me back again. Thou seest how Saint Godrick,
that holy hermit whose natal day this is, hath placed in my hands
two swords and in thine never a one. Therefore be persuaded,
good youth, and carry me back again."
So Robin lay watching the Friar, and the Friar, all unknowing that
he was so overlooked, ate his meal placidly. At last he was done,
and, having first wiped his greasy hands upon the ferns and wild thyme
(and sweeter napkin ne'er had king in all the world), he took up
his flask and began talking to himself as though he were another man,
and answering himself as though he were somebody else.
"Dear lad, thou art the sweetest fellow in all the world,
I do love thee as a lover loveth his lass. La, thou dost
make me shamed to speak so to me in this solitary place,
no one being by, and yet if thou wilt have me say so,
I do love thee as thou lovest me. Nay then, wilt thou not
take a drink of good Malmsey? After thee, lad, after thee.
Nay, I beseech thee, sweeten the draught with thy lips
(here he passed the flask from his right hand to his left).
An thou wilt force it on me so, I must needs do thy bidding,
yet with the more pleasure do I so as I drink thy very great health
(here he took a long, deep draught). And now, sweet lad,
'tis thy turn next (here he passed the bottle from his left
hand back again to his right). I take it, sweet chuck,
and here's wishing thee as much good as thou wishest me."
Saying this, he took another draught, and truly he drank
enough for two.
All this time merry Robin lay upon the bank and listened, while his
stomach so quaked with laughter that he was forced to press his palm
across his mouth to keep it from bursting forth; for, truly, he would
not have spoiled such a goodly jest for the half of Nottinghamshire.
Having gotten his breath from his last draught, the Friar began talking
again in this wise: "Now, sweet lad, canst thou not sing me a song?
La, I know not, I am but in an ill voice this day; prythee ask me not;
dost thou not hear how I croak like a frog? Nay, nay, thy voice
is as sweet as any bullfinch; come, sing, I prythee, I would rather
hear thee sing than eat a fair feast. Alas, I would fain not sing
before one that can pipe so well and hath heard so many goodly songs
and ballads, ne'ertheless, an thou wilt have it so, I will do my best.
But now methinks that thou and I might sing some fair song together;
dost thou not know a certain dainty little catch called `The Loving Youth
and the Scornful Maid'? Why, truly, methinks I have heard it ere now.
Then dost thou not think that thou couldst take the lass's part gif
I take the lad's? I know not but I will try; begin thou with the lad
and I will follow with the lass."
Then, singing first with a voice deep and gruff, and anon in one high
and squeaking, he blithely trolled the merry catch of
THE LOVING YOUTH AND THE SCORNFUL MAID _HE
"Ah, it's wilt thou come with me, my love?
And it's wilt thou, love, he mine?
For I will give unto thee, my love,
Gay knots and ribbons so fine.
I'll woo thee, love, on my bended knee,
And I'll pipe sweet songs to none but thee.
Then it's hark! hark! hark!
To the winged lark
And it's hark to the cooing dove!
And the bright daffodil
Groweth down by the rill,
So come thou and be my love.
SHE
"Now get thee away, young man so fine;
Now get thee away, I say;
For my true love shall never be thine,
And so thou hadst better not stay.
Thou art not a fine enough lad for me,
So I'll wait till a better young man I see.
For it's hark! hark! hark!
To the winged lark,
And it's hark to the cooing dove!
And the bright daffodil
Groweth down by the rill,
Yet never I'll be thy love.
HE
"Then straight will I seek for another fair she,
For many a maid can be found,
And as thou wilt never have aught of me,
By thee will I never be bound.
For never is a blossom in the field so rare,
But others are found that are just as fair.
So it's hark! hark! hark!
To the joyous lark
And it's hark to the cooing dove!
And the bright daffodil
Groweth down by the rill,
And I'll seek me another dear love.
SHE
"Young man, turn not so very quick away
Another fair lass to find.
Methinks I have spoken in haste today,
Nor have I made up my mind_,
_
And if thou only wilt stay with me,
I'll love no other, sweet lad, but thee_."
Here Robin could contain himself no longer but burst forth into a mighty
roar of laughter; then, the holy Friar keeping on with the song, he joined
in the chorus, and together they sang, or, as one might say, bellowed:
"_So it's hark! hark! hark!
To the joyous lark
And it's hark to the cooing dove!
For the bright daffodil
Groweth down by the rill
And I'll be thine own true love_."
So they sang together, for the stout Friar did not seem to have heard
Robin's laughter, neither did he seem to know that the yeoman had joined
in with the song, but, with eyes half closed, looking straight before
him and wagging his round head from side to side in time to the music,
he kept on bravely to the end, he and Robin finishing up with a mighty
roar that might have been heard a mile. But no sooner had the last word
been sung than the holy man seized his steel cap, clapped it on his head,
and springing to his feet, cried in a great voice, "What spy have we here?
Come forth, thou limb of evil, and I will carve thee into as fine pudding
meat as e'er a wife in Yorkshire cooked of a Sunday." Hereupon he drew
from beneath his robes a great broadsword full as stout as was Robin's.
"Nay, put up thy pinking iron, friend," quoth Robin,
standing up with the tears of laughter still on his cheeks.
"Folk who have sung so sweetly together should not fight thereafter."
Hereupon he leaped down the bank to where the other stood.
"I tell thee, friend," said he, "my throat is as parched
with that song as e'er a barleystubble in October. Hast thou
haply any Malmsey left in that stout pottle?"
"Truly," said the Friar in a glum voice, "thou dost ask
thyself freely where thou art not bidden. Yet I trust I am
too good a Christian to refuse any man drink that is athirst.
Such as there is o't thou art welcome to a drink of the same."
And he held the pottle out to Robin.
Robin took it without more ado and putting it to his lips, tilted his
head back, while that which was within said "glug! "lug! glug!"
for more than three winks, I wot. The stout Friar watched Robin
anxiously the while, and when he was done took the pottle quickly.
He shook it, held it betwixt his eyes and the light, looked reproachfully
at the yeoman, and straightway placed it at his own lips.
When it came away again there was nought within it.
"Doss thou know the country hereabouts, thou good and holy man?"
asked Robin, laughing.
"Yea, somewhat," answered the other dryly.
"And dost thou know of a certain spot called Fountain Abbey?"
"Yea, somewhat."
"Then perchance thou knowest also of a certain one who goeth
by the name of the Curtal Friar of Fountain Abbey."
"Yea, somewhat."
"Well then, good fellow, holy father, or whatever thou art,"
quoth Robin, "I would know whether this same Friar is to be found
upon this side of the river or the other."
"That," quoth the Friar, "is a practical question upon
which the cunning rules appertaining to logic touch not.
I do advise thee to find that out by the aid of thine own
five senses; sight, feeling, and what not."
"I do wish much," quoth Robin, looking thoughtfully at the stout priest,
"to cross yon ford and strive to find this same good Friar."
"Truly," said the other piously, "it is a goodly wish on the part
of one so young. Far be it from me to check thee in so holy a quest.
Friend, the river is free to all."
"Yea, good father," said Robin, "but thou seest that my
clothes are of the finest and I fain would not get them wet.
Methinks thy shoulders are stout and broad; couldst thou not
find it in thy heart to carry me across?"
"Now, by the white hand of the holy Lady of the Fountain!" burst forth
the Friar in a mighty rage, "dost thou, thou poor puny stripling,
thou kiss-my-lady-la poppenjay; thou--thou What shall I call thee?
Dost thou ask me, the holy Tuck, to carry thee? Now I swear--"
Here he paused suddenly, then slowly the anger passed from his face,
and his little eyes twinkled once more. "But why should I not?"
quoth he piously.
"Did not the holy Saint Christopher ever carry the stranger across the river?
And should I, poor sinner that I am, be ashamed to do likewise?
Come with me, stranger, and I will do thy bidding in an humble frame
of mind." So saying, he clambered up the bank, closely followed by Robin,
and led the way to the shallow pebbly ford, chuckling to himself the while
as though he were enjoying some goodly jest within himself.
Having come to the ford, he girded up his robes about his loins,
tucked his good broadsword beneath his arm, and stooped his
back to take Robin upon it. Suddenly he straightened up.
"Methinks," quoth he, "thou'lt get thy weapon wet.
Let me tuck it beneath mine arm along with mine own."
"Nay, good father," said Robin, "I would not burden thee with aught
of mine but myself."
"Dost thou think," said the Friar mildly, "that the good Saint Christopher
would ha' sought his own ease so? Nay, give me thy tool as I bid thee,
for I would carry it as a penance to my pride."
Upon this, without more ado, Robin Hood unbuckled his sword from his side
and handed it to the other, who thrust it with his own beneath his arm.
Then once more the Friar bent his back, and, Robin having mounted upon it,
he stepped sturdily into the water and so strodeonward, splashing in
the shoal, and breaking all the smooth surface into ever-widening rings.
At last he reached the other side and Robin leaped lightly from his back.
"Many thanks, good father," quoth he. "Thou art indeed a good and holy man.
Prythee give me my sword and let me away, for I am in haste."
At this the stout Friar looked upon Robin for a long time,
his head on one side, and with a most waggish twist to his face;
then he slowly winked his right eye. "Nay, good youth,"
said he gently, "I doubt not that thou art in haste with thine affairs,
yet thou dost think nothing of mine. Thine are of a carnal nature;
mine are of a spiritual nature, a holy work, so to speak;
moreover, mine affairs do lie upon the other side of this stream.
I see by thy quest of this same holy recluse that thou
art a good young man and most reverent to the cloth.
I did get wet coming hither, and am sadly afraid that should I
wade the water again I might get certain cricks and pains i'
the joints that would mar my devotions for many a day to come.
I know that since I have so humbly done thy bidding thou
wilt carry me back again. Thou seest how Saint Godrick,
that holy hermit whose natal day this is, hath placed in my hands
two swords and in thine never a one. Therefore be persuaded,
good youth, and carry me back again."
- laughter [´lɑ:ftə]
n.笑，笑声 (初中英语单词) - breath [breθ] n.呼吸；气息 (初中英语单词)
- couldst [kudst] can的第二人称单数 (初中英语单词)
- winged [´wiŋd] a.有翼的 (初中英语单词)
- blossom [´blɔsəm] n.花；开花期 vi.开花 (初中英语单词)
- spoken [´spəukən] speak的过去分词 (初中英语单词)
- contain [kən´tein] v.包含；容纳；抑制 (初中英语单词)
- chorus [´kɔ:rəs] n.合唱；齐声 v.合唱 (初中英语单词)
- throat [θrəut] n.咽喉；嗓子；出入口 (初中英语单词)
- freely [´fri:li] ad.自由地；慷慨地 (初中英语单词)
- welcome [´welkəm] a.受欢迎的；可喜的 (初中英语单词)
- fountain [´fauntin] n.泉水；源泉；根源 (初中英语单词)
- whatever [wɔt´evə] pron.&a.无论什么 (初中英语单词)
- cunning [´kʌniŋ] a.&n.狡猾(诡诈)的 (初中英语单词)
- advise [əd´vaiz] vt.忠告；建议；通知 (初中英语单词)
- ashamed [ə´ʃeimd] a.惭愧；不好意思 (初中英语单词)
- humble [´hʌmbəl] a.谦卑的 vt.贬抑 (初中英语单词)
- shallow [´ʃæləu] a.肤浅的；表面的 (初中英语单词)
- weapon [´wepən] n.武器；斗争手段 (初中英语单词)
- thrust [θrʌst] v.&n.猛推；冲；刺；挤进 (初中英语单词)
- lightly [´laitli] ad.轻微地，稍微 (初中英语单词)
- gently [´dʒentli] ad.温和地；静静地 (初中英语单词)
- spiritual [´spiritʃuəl] a.精神(上)的；神圣的 (初中英语单词)
- hither [´hiðə] ad.到此处 (初中英语单词)
- therefore [´ðeəfɔ:] ad.&conj.因此；所以 (初中英语单词)
- napkin [´næpkin] n.餐巾；手帕；尿布 (高中英语单词)
- solitary [´sɔlitəri] a.独居的；孤独的 (高中英语单词)
- beseech [bi´si:tʃ] v.恳求，哀求 (高中英语单词)
- draught [drɑ:ft] n.通风，通气；吸出 (高中英语单词)
- goodly [´gudli] a.适意的；漂亮的 (高中英语单词)
- methinks [mi´θiŋks] vi.据我看来 (高中英语单词)
- dainty [´deinti] a.秀丽的 n.美味 (高中英语单词)
- loving [´lʌviŋ] a.爱的，有爱情的 (高中英语单词)
- joyous [´dʒɔiəs] a.充满快乐的 (高中英语单词)
- bravely [´breivli] ad.勇敢地；毅然 (高中英语单词)
- sweetly [´swi:tli] ad.甜蜜地；美妙地 (高中英语单词)
- barley [´bɑ:li] n.大麦 (高中英语单词)
- straightway [´streitwei] ad.立刻 (高中英语单词)
- thoughtfully [´θɔ:tfuli] ad.深思地；体贴地 (高中英语单词)
- strive [straiv] vi.争取；努力；奋斗 (高中英语单词)
- mighty [´maiti] a.强有力的 ad.很 (高中英语单词)
- saying [´seiŋ, ´sei-iŋ] n.言语；言论；格言 (高中英语单词)
- strode [strəud] stride的过去式 (高中英语单词)
- onward [´ɔnwəd] ad.&a.向前(的) (高中英语单词)
- hermit [´hə:mit] n.隐士 (高中英语单词)
- sweeten [´swi:tn] v.(使)变甜(可爱) (英语四级单词)
- gotten [´gɔtn] get的过去分词 (英语四级单词)
- yeoman [´jəumən] n.自由民；自耕农 (英语四级单词)
- nought [nɔ:t] n.=naught (英语四级单词)
- perchance [pə´tʃɑ:ns] ad.偶然；可能 (英语四级单词)
- sinner [´sinə] n.罪人 (英语四级单词)
- mildly [´maildli] ad.温和地；适度地 (英语四级单词)
- humbly [´hʌmbli] ad.恭顺地，谦卑地 (英语四级单词)
- greasy [´gri:si] a.油腻的；润滑的 (英语六级单词)
- scornful [´skɔ:nful] a.轻蔑的，藐视的 (英语六级单词)
- stubble [´stʌbəl] n.麦茬；短须 (英语六级单词)
- penance [´penəns] n.悔过；(赎罪的)苦行 (英语六级单词)
文章标签:名著
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