第8章 THE TRIAL BY COMBAT (II) 决斗裁判（II）

OUR scene now returns to the exterior of the Castle, or Precep'tory, of Tem'plestowe, about the hour when the bloody die was to be cast for the life or death of Rebecca. A throne was erected for the Grand Master at the east end of the tilt-yard, surrounded with seats of distinction for the Preceptors and Knights of the Order.

At the opposite end of the lists was a pile of fagots, so arranged around a stake, deeply fixed in the ground, as to leave a space for the victim whom they were destined to consume, to enter within the fatal circle in order to be chained to the stake by the fetters which hung ready for the purpose.

The unfortunate Rebecca was conducted to a black chair placed near the pile. On her first glance at the terrible spot where preparations were making for a death alike dismaying to the mind and painful to the body, she was observed to shudder and shut her eyes — praying internally, doubtless, for her lips moved though no speech was heard. In the space of a minute she opened her eyes, looked fixedly on the pile, as if to familiarize her mind with the object, and then slowly and naturally turned away her head.

It was the general belief that no one could or would appear for a Jewess accused of sorcery; and the knights whispered to each other that it was time to declare the pledge of Rebecca forfeited. At that instant a knight, urging his horse to speed, appeared on the plain advancing towards the lists. A hundred voices exclaimed, “A champion! a champion!” And despite the prejudices of the multitude, they shouted unanimously as the knight rode into the tilt-yard.

The second glance, however, served to destroy the hope that his timely arrival had excited. His horse, urged for many miles to its utmost speed, appeared to reel from fatigue; and the rider, however undauntedly he presented himself in the lists, either from weakness, from weariness, or from both combined, seemed scarce able to support himself in the saddle.

To the summons of the herald, who demanded his rank, his name and purpose, the stranger knight answered readily and boldly, “I am a good knight and noble,come hither to uphold with lance and sword the just and lawful quarrel of this damsel, Rebecca, daughter of Isaac of York; to maintain the doom pronounced against her to be false and truthless, and to defy Sir Brian the Templar as a traitor, murderer, and liar; as I will prove in this field with my body against his, by the aid of God, and of Saint George, the good knight.”

“The stranger must first show,” said a Templar, “that he is a good knight, and of honourable lineage. The Temple sendeth not forth her champions against nameless men.”

“My name,” said the knight, raising his helmet, “is better known, my lineage more pure, than thine own. I am Wilfred of Ivanhoe.”

“I will not fight with thee at present,” said the Templar, in a changed and hollow voice. “Get thy wounds healed, purvey thee a better horse, and it may be I will hold it worth my while to scourge out of thee this boyish spirit of bravado.”

“Ha! proud Templar,” said Ivanhoe, “hast thou forgotten that twice thou didst fall before this lance? Remember the lists at A'ere — remember the passage of arms at Ash'by — remember thy proud vaunt in the halls of Roth'erwood, and the gage of your gold chain against my reliquary, that thou wouldst do battle with Wilfred of Ivanhoe, and recover the honour thou hadst lost! By that reliquary, and the holy relic it contains, I will proclaim thee, Templar, a coward in every Court in Europe — unless thou do battle without further delay.”

Sir Brian turned his countenance irresolutely towards Rebecca, and then exclaimed, looking fiercely at Ivanhoe, “Dog of a Saxon! take thy lance, and prepare for the death thou hast drawn upon thee!”

“Does the Grand Master allow me the combat?” said Ivanhoe.

“I may not deny what thou hast challenged,” said the Grand Master, “provided the maiden accept thee as her champion. Yet I would thou wert in better plight to do battle. An enemy of our Order hast thou ever been, yet would I have thee honourably met withal.”

“Thus — thus as I am, and not otherwise,” said Ivanhoe; “it is the judgment of God — to his keeping I commend myself. — Rebecca,” said he, riding up to the fatal chair, “dost thou accept of me for thy champion?”

“I do,” she said, “I do,” — fluttered by an emotion which the fear of death had been unable to produce — “I do accept thee as the champion whom Heaven hath sent me. Yet, no — no; thy wounds are uncured. Meet not that proud man — why shouldst thou perish also?”

But Ivanhoe was already at his post; he had closed his visor and assumed his lance. Sir Brian did the same; and his esquire remarked, as he clasped his visor, that his face — which had, notwithstanding the variety of emotions by which he had been agitated, continued during the whole morning of an ashy paleness — had now become suddenly very much flushed.

The Grand Master, who held in his hand the gage of battle, Rebecca's glove, now threw it into the lists. The trumpets sounded, and the knights charged each other in full career. The weary horse of Ivanhoe, and its no less exhausted rider, went down, as all had expected, before the well-aimed lance and vigorous steed of the Templar. This issue of the combat all had foreseen; but although the spear of Ivanhoe, in comparison, did but touch the shield of Sir Brian, that champion, to the astonishment of all who beheld it, reeled in his saddle, lost his stirrup, and fell in the lists!

Ivanhoe, extricating himself from his fallen horse, was soon on foot, hastening to mend his fortune with his sword; but his antagonist arose not. Wilfred, placing his foot on his breast, and the sword's point to his throat, commanded him to yield him, or die on the spot. The Templar returned no answer.

“Slay him not, Sir Knight,” cried the Grand Master “un-shriven and unabsolved— kill not body and soul! We acknowledge him vanquished.”

He descended into the lists, and commanded them to unhelm the conquered champion. His eyes were closed — the dark red flush was still on his brow. As they looked on him in astonishment, the eyes opened — but they were fixed and glazed. The flush passed from his brow, and gave way to the pallid hue of death. Unscathed by the lance of his enemy, he had died a victim to the violence of his own contending passions.

“This is indeed the judgment of God,” said the Grand Master, looking upwards— “Fiat voluntas tua!”

When the first moments of surprise were over, Wilfred of Ivanhoe demanded of the Grand Master, as judge of the field, if he had manfully and rightfully done his duty in the combat?

“Manfully and rightfully hath it been done,” said the Grand Master; “I pronounce the maiden free and guiltless. The arms and the body of the deceased knight are at the will of the victor.”

“I will not despoil him of his weapons,” said the Knight of Ivanhoe, “nor condemn his corpse to shame. God's arm, no human hand, hath this day struck him down. But let his obsequies be private, as becomes those of a man who died in an unjust quarrel. — And for the maiden —”

He was interrupted by the clatter of horses' feet, advancing in such numbers,and so rapidly, as to shake the ground before them; and the Black Knight galloped into the lists. He was followed by a numerous band of men-at-arms, and several knights in complete armour.

“I am too late,” he said, looking around him. “I had doomed Sir Brian for mine own property. — Ivanhoe, was this well, to take on thee such a venture, and thou scarce able to keep thty saddle?”

“Heaven, my liege,” answered Ivanhoe, “hath taken this proud man for its victim. He was not to be honoured in dying as your will had designed.”

“Peace be with him,” said Richard, looking steadfastly on the corpse, “if it may be so — he was a gallant knight, and has died in his steel harness full knightly.”

During the tumult Rebecca saw and heard nothing: she was locked in the arms of her aged father, giddy, and almost senseless, with the rapid change of circumstances around her. But one word from Isaac at length recalled her scattered feelings.

“Let us go,” he said, “my dear daughter, my recovered treasure — let us go to throw ourselves at the feet of the good youth.”

“Not so,” said Rebecca; “oh no — no — no; — I must not at this moment dare to speak to him. Alas! I should say more than — No, my father; let us instantly leave this evil place.”

Isaac, yielding to her entreaties, then conducted her from the lists, and by means of a horse which he had provided, transported her safely to the house of the Rabbi Nathan.

— Sir Walter Scott

Words

antagonist,opponent.

astonishment,surprise.

bravado,boastfulness.

champion,defender.

commend,intrust.

consume,destroy.

demanded,asked.

designed,intended.

destined,appointed.

dismaying,appalling.

distinction,honour.

entreaties,solicitations.

exhausted,wearied.

extricating,disengaging.

familiarize,accustom.

fluttered,agitated.

forfeited,sacrificed.

honourably,worthily.

internally,mentally.

interrupted,checked.

irresolutely,unsteadily.

lineage,descent.

notwithstanding,in spite of.

obsequies,funeral rites.

prejudices,predilections.

proclaim,denounce.

pronounced,proclaimed.

purvey,provide.

transported,conveyed.

unabsolved,unpardoned.

unanimously,with one accord.

undauntedly,valiantly.

unfortunate,luckless.

unscathed,uninsured.

unshriven,not confessed.

vanquished,defeated.

venture,hazard.

vigorous,powerful.

Questions

Where was the combat to take place? Where was the Grand Master position? What was at the opposite end of the lists? What was the general belief? Who at last appeared? Why did the Templar at first decline to fight with him? What fear did Rebecca express? What was the result of the encounter of the knights? What befell the Templar immediately afterwards? What had killed him? What verdict did the Grand Master now give regarding Rebecca? Who presently arrived on the scene? Why was the Black Knight disappointed? Who was this Black Knight? Who had embraced Rebecca? What did he ask her to do? What did she reply?

现在，让我们将场景返回到城堡的外墙，也就是坦普尔斯托的领地。大约就在这时，丽贝卡将在血腥的死亡之后被判决生或死。在决斗场的最东边，已经专门为骑士团团长准备好了一张座椅，而周围也有为教区校长和骑士们准备的不同的座位。

在比武场的另一头，放着一堆柴火，围在一根木桩的四周。木桩已经深深地固定在地面之上，为接下来他们注定要审判的受害者留下空间，能够让这个人进入到这个最终处决他的圆圈之中。在那里，她将被已经为这个目的而拴在桩上的链子勒死。

不幸的丽贝卡被关押在靠近木桩的一个黑色的椅子之上。她朝着这可怕的、会令精神沮丧、令身体痛苦的即将来临的死亡的地方看了一眼，人们可以观察到她禁不住的颤抖和紧闭上的双眼——她的内心在祈祷，毫无疑问，因为她的嘴唇微微地动着，但却没有人能听到任何声音。在短短一分钟之后，她睁开了眼睛，目不转睛地盯着木桩，仿佛要让她的头脑熟悉它一样，然后慢慢地、自然地将头转开了。

当时的人们普遍相信，不可能会出现一个人，为一个被指控实施了巫术的犹太女人而决斗；骑士们小声地互相说话，到了宣布对丽贝卡的指控的时候了。就在那一瞬间，一个骑士策马疾驰，出现在这片平地之上，来到在座的人群面前。许多人大声喊道：“骑士！一个骑士！”尽管众人对他充满了偏见，当这位骑士冲进比武的院子里时，他们还是一致地喊出声来。

然而，再看第二眼时，就摧毁了他的及时到来所引发的希望。这个人已经敦促他的马，用最快的速度飞奔了许多英里，此时它似乎正忍受着疲劳；而这个骑马的人，虽然无畏地出现在众人面前，也同样显得虚弱和疲惫。而这两者的组合，似乎使他都不能让自己坐稳在马鞍上。

传令官呼唤这位陌生的骑士，要求说出他的头衔、他的名字与来此的目的。那位骑士立即勇敢地回答道：“我是一个优秀的骑士和贵族，带着我的枪和剑来到这里，来参与这场公正、合法的对于丽贝卡的审判，她是艾森克·约克的女儿；我来维护对她而言明显是虚假的、不真实的控告，来控告圣殿骑士布瑞恩爵士是一名叛徒、杀人犯和骗子；我将在这个地方与他相抗衡，用我的身体，在上帝和圣乔治的帮助之下，证明我是好骑士。”

“这个陌生人必须首先证明，”一个圣殿武士说道，“他是一个很好的骑士，拥有尊贵的血统。圣殿骑士从不和无名的人进行战斗。”

“我的名字，”骑士举起了他的头盔，说道，“非常著名，我的血统也比你自己的更加纯正。我是艾文荷的威尔弗雷德。”

“目前我还不想与你战斗，”圣殿骑士用一种和刚才不一样的空灵的声音说道。“等你的伤口愈合，找到一匹更好的马。这段时间，对我来说很有价值，可以锉掉你这虚张声势的孩子气的气焰。”

“哈！骄傲的圣殿武士，”艾文荷说，“你忘了你曾经两次倒在这杆枪之下吗？记得那次决斗吗？——记住那次在阿什比，记得另一次你在罗舍伍德的大厅骄傲地吹牛，你的黄金链还有我的圣物作为赌注，你要同艾文荷的威尔弗雷德决斗，来恢复你已经失去的荣誉！这个圣物，和它承载的神圣遗物，圣殿武士，会在欧洲的各个宫廷之中宣布你的懦弱——除非你毫不迟疑地与我决斗。”

布瑞恩爵士迟疑不决地转向了丽贝卡，然后严厉地望着艾文荷，大声喊道：“撒克逊人的走狗！拿起你的枪，准备迎接死亡吧！”

“骑士团团长允许我战斗了吗？”艾文荷说道。

“我不否认你所挑战的，”骑士团团长说着，“因为这个少女接受你作为替她决斗的骑士。然而，我却希望你在更好的情况下进行决斗。你曾经是我们的敌人，但是我会让你成就你的荣耀。”

“因此是我，而不是其他人，”艾文荷说；“这是上帝的审判——我接收了他的旨意。丽贝卡，”他说着，走到她坐着的死亡之椅旁，“你接受我做你的骑士吗？”

“我接受，”她说，“我接受，”她被一种能够抑制对死亡的恐惧的情绪所激励，“我接受你来做我的骑士，你是上天派给我的。然而，现在不能——不能，因为你的伤口还没有痊愈。不要去和那个骄傲的人决斗——你为什么要自取灭亡呢？”

但艾文荷已经站在他的位置上；他已经戴上了他的面罩，拿好了他的枪。布瑞恩爵士也一样；他的扈从说，他将自己的面罩戴上时，他的脸——尽管他整个早上一直由于多种情绪而变得烦躁，他的脸也因此变得苍白——现在，他的脸却突然变得绯红。

骑士团团长手里拿着决斗的权杖，还有丽贝卡的手套，现在他把它扔到决斗场里。喇叭吹响了，双方的骑士全速骑马飞奔向对方。正如所有人预料的一样，艾文荷疲惫的马以及马上这个也同样劳累的骑士，在圣殿骑士瞄准的枪和生机勃勃的骏马面前跌落了下来。人们都已经预见到了这场决斗的结果；尽管艾文荷的枪也触碰到了布瑞恩的盾牌，但相比之下，让所有在场观看决斗的人都惊讶的是，这个骑士在他的马鞍上却没有踩住他的马镫，跌落在了决斗场上！

艾文荷从他倒下的马上将自己解脱出来，迅速站起来，急忙拿起他的剑重新进入决斗中；但他的敌手却没有过来。威尔弗雷德迅速踢了一脚他的胸膛，并把剑指向他的喉咙，命令他要么认输，要么当场死去。圣殿骑士没有回答。

“不要杀他，骑士先生，”骑士团团长喊道，“赦免他——不要杀死他的身体和灵魂！我们承认他已经被征服了。”

他倒在了决斗场上，并吩咐他们除去被征服的骑士的头盔。他闭上了眼睛——暗红色的鲜血仍然在他的额头上流淌。当人们惊讶地看着他，他睁开了眼睛——但他的眼睛此时却目不转睛、炯炯有神。鲜血在他的额头慢慢褪去，取而代之的是死亡的苍白色调。没有死在敌人的枪下，他却成为死在自己暴力决斗的激情之下的受害者。

“这真是上帝的审判，”骑士团团长说。他抬头向上看着，说道，“我们将遵照您的旨意！”

当惊喜的第一时刻已经过去，艾文荷的威尔弗雷德向作为该判决的法官的骑士团团长询问，他是否已经勇敢地、公平地完成了决斗。

“你进行的决斗非常英勇，也很公平，”骑士团团长说道；“我宣布这名少女自由、无罪。得到战败骑士的武器和身体，是胜利者的意志。”“我不会抢占他的武器，”骑士艾文荷说，“也不会谴责他的身体的耻辱。今天，是上帝的手，而不是人类的手将他打败。但让他的葬礼秘密进行吧，假装他是在一次不公正的决斗中被杀害。——而对这个少女——”

他被一阵马蹄声打断，众多的马匹迅速地在他们面前震撼着地面；黑骑士疾驰到决斗场之中。他身后跟着一队手持武器的士兵，还有几个全副武装的骑士。

“我来晚了，”他望向他的周围说道。“我已经认定布瑞恩爵士是我自己的财产。——艾文荷，你冒这样的风险，而几乎不能够停留在自己的马鞍之上，这样好吗？”

“天啊，上帝，”艾文荷回答道，“这个骄傲的人已经被判作了这场决斗的失败者。他不会按照您设计的方式光荣地死去了。”

“和平将与他同在，”理查德说，目光坚定地望着地上的尸体，“如果是这样——他是一位勇敢的骑士，而他充满骑士精神的全副武装而死。”

在一片喧哗声中，丽贝卡什么也看不到，听不到了：在她年迈的父亲的臂膀之中，她几乎被定格住了，目光晕眩，几乎毫无知觉，因为她周围的环境是如此快速地发生了变化。但艾萨克的话，终于让她从散乱的感觉中苏醒了过来。

“我们走吧，”他说，“我亲爱的女儿，我失而复得的宝贝——让我们走到这个好青年的面前。”“不，”丽贝卡说；“哦不——不——不——在这一刻，我不敢和他说话。唉！我本应该多说点什么——不，父亲；让我们立即离开这个邪恶的地方吧。”艾萨克听从了她的恳求，把她从这个决斗场带走了，并把她放在一匹马上，安全地带到了拉比的家中。

——沃尔特·司各特爵士