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:
新月集
作者:佚名
章节:38 人气:0
摘要:我独自在横跨过田地的路上走着,夕阳像一个守财奴似的,正藏起它的最后的金子。白昼更加深沉地投入黑暗之中,那已经收割了的孤寂的田地,默默地躺在那里。天空里突然升起了一个男孩子的尖锐的歌声。他穿过看不见的黑暗,留下他的歌声的辙痕跨过黄昏的静谧。他的乡村的家坐落在荒凉的边上,在甘蔗田的后面,躲藏在香蕉树,瘦长的槟榔树,椰子树和深绿色的贾克果树的阴影里。 [点击阅读]
旗振山疑云
作者:佚名
章节:7 人气:0
摘要:J报社大阪支社的总编富永拜访浅见家,那是l1月1日的事。那天是星期天,可对于浅见光彦来说,不管是周末还是假日都与他无关。浅见昨晚深夜才从四国松山旅行回来,一回来就埋头工作到凌晨。因为约定后天之前要完成的稿件,比预定的晚了许多,虽然老记挂着这件事,可人终究敌不过睡魔。一直坚持到凌晨4点20分,本想打算稍事休息,没想到脑袋一落枕头,就沉沉睡过去了。“少爷!少爷!快起来。 [点击阅读]
无人生还
作者:佚名
章节:71 人气:0
摘要:varcpro_id='u179742';varcpro_id='u179742';沃格雷夫法官先生新近离任退休,现在正在头等车厢的吸烟室里,倚角而坐,一边喷着雪茄烟,一边兴致勃勃地读着《泰晤士报》上的政治新闻。沃格雷夫放下报纸,眺望窗外。列车奔驰在西南沿海的萨默塞特原野上。他看了看表,还有两小时路程。 [点击阅读]
无声告白
作者:佚名
章节:12 人气:0
摘要:第一章莉迪亚死了,可他们还不知道。1977年5月3日早晨6点30分的时候,没有人知道莉迪亚已经死了,他们只清楚一个无伤大雅的事实:莉迪亚来不及吃早餐了。这个时候,与平常一样,母亲在莉迪亚的粥碗旁边放了一支削好的铅笔,还有莉迪亚的物理作业,作业中六个有问题的地方已经用对勾标了出来。 [点击阅读]
无妄之灾
作者:佚名
章节:24 人气:0
摘要:薄暮时分,他来到渡口。他大可早就来到这里。事实上是,他尽可能拖延。先是跟他的一些朋友在“红码头”午宴;轻率、散漫的对谈,有关彼此都认识的一些朋友的闲话——这一切只意味着他内心里对他不得不去做的事退缩不前。他的朋友邀他留下来喝午茶,而他接受了。然而最后他知道他不能再拖延下去了的时刻终于还是来到了。他雇来的车子在等着。 [点击阅读]
日常生活的冒险
作者:佚名
章节:5 人气:0
摘要:1读者可曾想象过接到这样来信时的辛酸味?信上说,你的某一尽管时有龃龉,但长期来常挂心间交谊甚笃的好友,不意在某个远如火星上的共和国的哪个陌生处所,原因不明,轻生自尽了。在弱小的兽类世界,想来也有像遇到较强兽类,将其坚实头颅,如同软蜜饯似地一下咬碎一类的残酷体验,但在人类世界,以我目前的想法,即此便是辛酸不过的体验了。 [点击阅读]
日本的黑雾
作者:佚名
章节:86 人气:0
摘要:松本清张是日本当代着名的小说家,一九〇九年生于福冈县小仓市。高小毕业后,曾在电机厂、石版印刷厂做过工,生活艰苦。自一九三八年起,先后在朝日新闻社九州岛分社、西部总社、东京总社任职,同时练习写作。一九五〇年发表第一篇作品《西乡钞票》,借明治初期西乡隆盛领导的西乡军滥发军票造成的混乱状况来影射战后初期日本通货膨胀、钞票贬值的时局。一九五二年,以《〈小仓日记〉传》获芥川奖,从此登上文坛。 [点击阅读]
日瓦戈医生
作者:佚名
章节:20 人气:0
摘要:精彩对白Gen.YevgrafZhivago:Tonya,canyouplaythebalalaika?日瓦戈将军:冬妮娅,你会弹三弦琴吗?Engineer:Cansheplay?She'sanartist!工程师:她会弹吗?她是个艺术家!Komarovski:Igivehertoyou,YuriAndreavich.Weddingpresent.科马罗夫斯基:我把她给你,尤里,结婚礼物。 [点击阅读]
时间旅行者的妻子
作者:佚名
章节:21 人气:0
摘要:《时间旅行者的妻子》作者简介奥德丽·尼芬格(AudreyNiffenegger),视觉艺术家,也是芝加哥哥伦比亚学院书籍与纸艺中心的教授,她负责教导写作、凸版印刷以及精美版书籍的制作。曾在芝加哥印花社画廊展出个人艺术作品。《时间旅行者的妻子》是她的第一本小说。 [点击阅读]
时间机器
作者:佚名
章节:13 人气:0
摘要:时间旅行者正在给我们讲解一个非常深奥的问题。他灰色的眼睛闪动着,显得神采奕奕,平日里他的面孔总是苍白得没有一点血色,但是此刻却由于激动和兴奋泛出红光。壁炉里火光熊熊,白炽灯散发出的柔和的光辉,捕捉着我们玻璃杯中滚动的气泡。我们坐的椅子,是他设计的专利产品,与其说是我们坐在椅子上面,还不如说是椅子在拥抱和爱抚我们。 [点击阅读]