51(y)(7)
用你喜欢的方式阅读你喜欢的小说
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:
质数的孤独
作者:佚名
章节:11 人气:2
摘要:爱丽丝·德拉·罗卡讨厌滑雪学校。她讨厌在圣诞假期也要一大早七点半就起床,她讨厌在吃早餐时父亲目不转睛地盯着她,同时一条腿在餐桌下面焦躁地抖个不停,仿佛在催促她说:“快吃!”她讨厌那条会扎她大腿的羊毛连裤袜,讨厌那双让她手指不能动弹的滑雪手套,讨厌那顶勒住她的面颊、同时又用铁带扣卡住她下巴的头盔,也讨厌那双特别挤脚、让她走起路来像只大猩猩的滑雪靴。“你到底喝不喝这杯奶?”父亲再一次逼问她。 [点击阅读]
银河系漫游指南
作者:佚名
章节:37 人气:2
摘要:书评无法抗拒——《波士顿环球报》科幻小说,却又滑稽风趣到极点……古怪、疯狂,彻底跳出此前所有科幻小说的固有套路。——《华盛顿邮报》主角阿瑟·邓特与库尔特·冯尼格笔下的人物颇为神似,全书充满对人类社会现实的嘲讽和批判。——《芝加哥论坛报》一句话,这是有史以来最滑稽、最古怪的科幻小说,封面和封底之间,奇思妙想随处可见。 [点击阅读]
随感集
作者:佚名
章节:19 人气:2
摘要:白开元译1梦,我心灵的流萤,梦,我心灵的水晶,在沉闷漆黑的子夜,闪射着熠熠光泽。2火花奋翼,赢得瞬间的韵律,在飞翔中熄灭,它感到喜悦。3我的深爱如阳光普照,以灿烂的自由将你拥抱。4①亲爱的,我羁留旅途,光阴枉掷,樱花已凋零,喜的是遍野的映山红显现出你慰藉的笑容。--------①这首诗是赠给徐志摩的。1924年泰戈尔访毕,诗人徐志摩是他的翻译。 [点击阅读]
雪国
作者:佚名
章节:29 人气:2
摘要:【一】你好,川端康成自杀的原因是因为:他是个没有牵挂的人了,为了美的事业,他穷尽了一生的心血,直到七十三岁高龄,还每周三次伏案写作。但他身体不好,创作与《雪国》齐名的《古都》后,住进了医院内科,多年持续不断用安眠药,从写作《古都》之前,就到了滥用的地步。 [点击阅读]
霍乱时期的爱情
作者:佚名
章节:42 人气:2
摘要:第一章(一)这些地方的变化日新月异,它们已有了戴王冠的仙女。——莱昂德罗·迪亚斯这是确定无疑的:苦扁桃的气息总勾起他对情场失意的结局的回忆。胡维纳尔?乌尔比诺医生刚走进那个半明半暗的房间就悟到了这一点。他匆匆忙忙地赶到那里本是为了进行急救,但那件多年以来使他是心的事已经不可挽回了。 [点击阅读]
霍比特人
作者:佚名
章节:50 人气:2
摘要:在地底洞穴中住着一名哈比人。这可不是那种又脏又臭又湿,长满了小虫,满是腐败气味的洞穴;但是,它也并非是那种空旷多沙、了无生气、没有家具的无聊洞穴。这是个哈比人居住的洞穴,也是舒舒服服的同义词。这座洞穴有个像是舷窗般浑圆、漆成绿色的大门,在正中央有个黄色的闪亮门把。 [点击阅读]
青春咖啡馆
作者:佚名
章节:14 人气:2
摘要:那家咖啡馆有两道门,她总是从最窄的那扇门进出,那扇门人称黑暗之门。咖啡厅很小,她总是在小厅最里端的同一张桌子旁落座。初来乍到的那段时光,她从不跟任何人搭讪,日子一长,她认识了孔岱咖啡馆里的那些常客,他们中的大多数人跟我们年纪相仿,我的意思是说,我们都在十九到二十五岁之间。有时候,她会坐到他们中间去,但大部分时间里,她还是喜欢坐她自己的那个专座,也就是说坐最里端的那个位子。她来咖啡馆的时间也不固定。 [点击阅读]
马普尔小姐探案
作者:佚名
章节:8 人气:2
摘要:马普尔小姐的故事——我亲爱的,我想我没告诉过你们——你,雷蒙德,还有你,琼——有关几年前发生的一桩奇特的小案子。不管怎样,我不想让人们觉得我很自负——当然了,我也知道和你们年轻人比起来我根本算不上聪明——雷蒙德会写那些关于令人讨厌的男男女女们的非常现代的书——琼会画那些出众的图画,上面全是一些四四方方的人,身上有的地方非常奇怪地凸了出来——你们都很聪明,我亲爱的, [点击阅读]
人类群星闪耀时
作者:佚名
章节:17 人气:2
摘要:作品简介StefanZweig斯蒂芬·茨威格茨威格于1881年出生在奥地利维也纳一个富裕的犹太工厂主家庭,青年时代曾在维也纳和柏林攻读哲学和文学,获得博士学位。从二十世纪二十年代起,茨威格便“以德语创作赢得了不让于英、法语作品的广泛声誉”。 [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]