burlesques-第72节

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dexterity　（for　he　would　kill　you　off　a　couple　of　hundreds　of　them

of　Chalus；　whilst　the　strongest　champions　of　the　Kings　host　could

not　finish　more　than　their　two　dozen　of　a　day）；　poisoned　the　royal

mind　against　Sir　Wilfrid；　and　made　the　King　look　upon　his　feats　of

arms　with　an　evil　eye。　　Roger　de　Backbite　sneeringly　told　the　King

that　Sir　Wilfrid　had　offered　to　bet　an　equal　bet　that　he　would　kill

more　men　than　Richard　himself　in　the　next　assault：　Peter　de

Toadhole　said　that　Ivanhoe　stated　everywhere　that　his　Majesty　was

not　the　man　he　used　to　be；　that　pleasures　and　drink　had　enervated

him；　that　he　could　neither　ride；　nor　strike　a　blow　with　sword　or

axe；　as　he　had　been　enabled　to　do　in　the　old　times　in　Palestine：

and　finally；　in　the　twenty…fifth　assault；　in　which　they　had　very

nearly　carried　the　place；　and　in　which　onset　Ivanhoe　slew　seven；

and　his　Majesty　six；　of　the　sons　of　the　Count　de　Chalus；　its

defender；　Ivanhoe　almost　did　for　himself；　by　planting　his　banner

before　the　King's　upon　the　wall；　and　only　rescued　himself　from

utter　disgrace　by　saving　his　Majesty's　life　several　times　in　the

course　of　this　most　desperate　onslaught。



Then　the　luckless　knight's　very　virtues　（as；　no　doubt；　my　respected

readers　know；）　made　him　enemies　amongst　the　mennor　was　Ivanhoe

liked　by　the　women　frequenting　the　camp　of　the　gay　King　Richard。

His　young　Queen；　and　a　brilliant　court　of　ladies；　attended　the

pleasure…loving　monarch。　　His　Majesty　would　transact　business　in

the　morning；　then　fight　severely　from　after　breakfast　till　about

three　o'clock　in　the　afternoon；　from　which　time；　until　after

midnight；　there　was　nothing　but　jigging　and　singing；　feasting　and

revelry；　in　the　royal　tents。　　Ivanhoe；　who　was　asked　as　a　matter　of

ceremony；　and　forced　to　attend　these　entertainments；　not　caring

about　the　blandishments　of　any　of　the　ladies　present；　looked　on　at

their　ogling　and　dancing　with　a　countenance　as　glum　as　an

undertaker's；　and　was　a　perfect　wet…blanket　in　the　midst　of　the

festivities。　　His　favorite　resort　and　conversation　were　with　a

remarkably　austere　hermit；　who　lived　in　the　neighborhood　of　Chalus；

and　with　whom　Ivanhoe　loved　to　talk　about　Palestine；　and　the　Jews；

and　other　grave　matters　of　import；　better　than　to　mingle　in　the

gayest　amusements　of　the　court　of　King　Richard。　　Many　a　night；　when

the　Queen　and　the　ladies　were　dancing　quadrilles　and　polkas　（in

which　his　Majesty；　who　was　enormously　stout　as　well　as　tall；

insisted　upon　figuring；　and　in　which　he　was　about　as　graceful　as　an

elephant　dancing　a　hornpipe）；　Ivanhoe　would　steal　away　from　the

ball；　and　come　and　have　a　night's　chat　under　the　moon　with　his

reverend　friend。　　It　pained　him　to　see　a　man　of　the　King's　age　and

size　dancing　about　with　the　young　folks。　　They　laughed　at　his

Majesty　whilst　they　flattered　him：　the　pages　and　maids　of　honor

mimicked　the　royal　mountebank　almost　to　his　face；　and；　if　Ivanhoe

ever　could　have　laughed；　he　certainly　would　one　night　when　the

King；　in　light…blue　satin　inexpressibles；　with　his　hair　in　powder；

chose　to　dance　the　minuet　de　la　cour　with　the　little　Queen

Berangeria。



Then；　after　dancing；　his　Majesty　must　needs　order　a　guitar；　and

begin　to　sing。　　He　was　said　to　compose　his　own　songswords　and

musicbut　those　who　have　read　Lord　Campobello's　〃Lives　of　the　Lord

Chancellors〃　are　aware　that　there　was　a　person　by　the　name　of

Blondel；　who；　in　fact；　did　all　the　musical　part　of　the　King's

performances；　and　as　for　the　words；　when　a　king　writes　verses；　we

may　be　sure　there　will　be　plenty　of　people　to　admire　his　poetry。

His　Majesty　would　sing　you　a　ballad；　of　which　he　had　stolen　every

idea；　to　an　air　that　was　ringing　on　all　the　barrel…organs　of

Christendom；　and；　turning　round　to　his　courtiers；　would　say；　〃How

do　you　like　that？　　I　dashed　it　off　this　morning。〃　　Or；　〃Blondel；

what　do　you　think　of　this　movement　in　B　flat？〃　or　what　not；　and　the

courtiers　and　Blondel；　you　may　be　sure；　would　applaud　with　all

their　might；　like　hypocrites　as　they　were。



One　eveningit　was　the　evening　of　the　27th　March；　1199；　indeed

his　Majesty；　who　was　in　the　musical　mood；　treated　the　court　with　a

quantity　of　his　so…called　composition；　until　the　people　were　fairly

tired　of　clapping　with　their　hands　and　laughing　in　their　sleeves。

First　he　sang　an　ORIGINAL　air　and　poem；　beginning





　　　　　〃Cherries　nice；　cherries　nice；　nice；　come　choose；

　　　　　　Fresh　and　fair　ones；　who'll　refuse？〃　&c。





The　which　he　was　ready　to　take　his　affidavit　he　had　composed　the

day　before　yesterday。　　Then　he　sang　an　equally　ORIGINAL　heroic

melody；　of　which　the　chorus　was





　　　　　〃Rule　Britannia；　Britannia　rules　the　sea；

　　　　　　For　Britons　never；　never；　never　slaves　shall　be；〃　&c。





The　courtiers　applauded　this　song　as　they　did　the　other；　all　except

Ivanhoe；　who　sat　without　changing　a　muscle　of　his　features；　until

the　King　questioned　him；　when　the　knight；　with　a　bow　said　〃he

thought　he　had　heard　something　very　like　the　air　and　the　words

elsewhere。〃　　His　Majesty　scowled　at　him　a　savage　glance　from　under

his　red　bushy　eyebrows；　but　Ivanhoe　had　saved　the　royal　life　that

day；　and　the　King；　therefore；　with　difficulty　controlled　his

indignation。



〃Well；〃　said　he；　〃by　St。　Richard　and　St。　George；　but　ye　never　heard

THIS　song；　for　I　composed　it　this　very　afternoon　as　I　took　my　bath

after　the　melee。　　Did　I　not；　Blondel？〃



Blondel；　of　course；　was　ready　to　take　an　affidavit　that　his　Majesty

had　done　as　he　said；　and　the　King；　thrumming　on　his　guitar　with　his

great　red　fingers　and　thumbs；　began　to　sing　out　of　tune　and　as

follows：





　　　　　〃COMMANDERS　OF　THE　FAITHFUL。



　　　　　〃The　Pope　he　is　a　happy　man；

　　　　　　His　Palace　is　the　Vatican；

　　　　　　And　there　he　sits　and　drains　his　can：

　　　　　　The　Pope　he　is　a　happy　man。

　　　　　　I　often　say　when　I'm　at　home；

　　　　　　I'd　like　to　be　the　Pope　of　Rome。



　　　　　〃And　then　there's　Sultan　Saladin；

　　　　　　That　Turkish　Soldan　full　of　sin；

　　　　　　He　has　a　hundred　wives　at　least；

　　　　　　By　which　his　pleasure　is　increased：

　　　　　　I've　often　wished；　I　hope　no　sin；

　　　　　　That　I　were　Sultan　Saladin。



　　　　　〃But　no；　the　Pope　no　wife　may　choose；

　　　　　　And　so　I　would　not　wear　his　shoes；

　　　　　　No　wine　may　drink　the　proud　Paynim；

　　　　　　And　so　I'd　rather　not　be　him：

　　　　　　My　wife；　my　wine；　I　love　I　hope；

　　　　　　And　would　be　neither　Turk　nor　Pope。〃





〃Encore！　　Encore！　　Bravo！　　Bis！〃　　Everybody　applauded　the　King's

song　with　all　his　might：　everybody　except　Ivanhoe；　who　preserved

his　abominable　gravity：　and　when　asked　aloud　by　Roger　de　Backbite

whether　he　had　heard　that　too；　said　firmly；　〃Yes；　Roger　de

Backbite；　and　so　hast　thou　if　thou　darest　but　tell　the　truth。〃



〃Now；　by　St。　Cicely；　may　I　never　touch　gittern　again；〃　bawled　the

King　in　a　fury；　〃if　every　note；　word；　and　thought　be　not　mine；　may

I　die　in　to…morrow's　onslaught　if　the　song　be　not　my　song。　　Sing

thyself；　Wilfrid　of　the　Lanthorn　Jaws；　thou　could'st　sing　a　good

song　in　old　times。〃　　And　with　all　his　might；　and　with　a　forced

laugh；　the　King；　who　loved　brutal　practical　jests；　flung　his　guitar

at　the　head　of　Ivanhoe。



Sir　Wilfrid　caught　it　gracefully　with　one　hand；　and　making　an

elegant　bow　to　the　sovereign；　began　to　chant　as　follows：





　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　〃KING　CANUTE。



〃King　Canute　was　weary…hearted；　he　had　reigned　for　years　a　score；

Battling；　struggling；　pushing；　fighting；　killing　much　and　robbing

　　more；

And　he　thought　upon　his　actions；　walking　by　the　wild　sea…shore。



〃'Twixt　the　Chancellor　and　Bishop　walked　the　King　with　steps　sedate；

Chamberlains　and　grooms　came　after；　silversticks　and　goldsticks

　　great；

Chaplains；　aides…de…camp；　and　pages；all　the　officers　of　state。



〃Sliding　after　like　his　shadow；　pausing　when　he　chose　to　pause；

If　a　frown　his　face　contracted；　straight　the　courtiers　dropped　their

　　jaws；

If　to　laugh　the　King　was　minded；　out　they　burst　in　loud　hee…haws。



〃But　that　day　a　something　vexed　him；　that　was　clear　to　old　and

　　young：

Thrice　his　Grace　had　yawned　at　table；　when　his　favorite　gleemen

　　sung；

Once　the　Queen　would　have　consoled　him；　but　he　bade　her　hold　her

　　tongue。



〃'Something　ails　my　gracious　master；'　cried　the　Keeper　of　the　Seal。

'Sure；　my　lord；　it　is　the　lampreys　served　at　dinner；　or　the　veal？'

'Psha！'　exclaimed　the　angry　monarch。　　'Keeper；　'tis　not　that　I　feel。



〃''Tis　the　HEART；　and　not　the　dinner；　fool；　that　doth　my　rest　impair：

Can　a　King　be　great　as　I　am；　prithee；　and　yet　know　no　care？

Oh；　I'm　sick；　and　tired；　and　weary。'Some　one　cried；　'The　King's

　　　arm…chair？'



〃Then　towards　the　lackeys　turning；　quick　my　Lord　the　Keeper　nodded；

Straight　the　King's　great　chair　was　brought　him；　by　two　footmen

　　　able…bodied；

Languidly　he　sank　into　it：　it　was　comfortably　wadded。



〃'Leading　on　my　fierce　companions；'　cried　be；　'over　storm　and　brine；

I　have　fought　and　I　have　conquered！　　Where　was　glory　like　to　mine？'

Loudly