2017年06月

fed5f6954b5f1a0e
 He feigned an amiable confusion. “Which of you is Prince Doran?”  “My brother’s health requires he remain at Sunspear.” The princeling removed his helm. Beneath, his face was lined and saturnine, with thin arched brows above large eyes as black and shiny as pools of coal oil. Only a few streaks of silver marred the lustrous black hair that receded from his brow in a widow’s peak as sharply pointed as his nose. A salty Dornishmen for certain . “Prince Doran has sent me to join King Joffrey’s council in his stead, as it please His Grace.”  “His Grace will be most honored to have the counsel of a warrior as renowned as Prince Oberyn of Dorne,” said Tyrion, thinking, This will mean blood in the gutters. “And your noble companions are most welcome as well.”  “Permit me to acquaint you with them, my lord of Lannister. Ser Deziel Dalt, of Lemonwood. Lord Tremond Gargalen. Lord Harmen Uller and his brother Ser Ulwyck. Ser Ryon Allyrion and his natural son Ser Daemon Sand, the Bastard of Godsgrace. Lord Dagos Manwoody, his brother Ser Myles, his sons Mors and Dickon. Ser Arron Qorgyle. And never let it be thought that I would neglect the ladies. Myria Jordayne, heir to the Tor. Lady Larra Blackmont, her daughter Jynessa, her son Perros.” He raised a slender hand toward a black-haired woman to the rear, beckoning her forward. “And this is Ellaria Sand, mine own paramour.”  Tyrion swallowed a groan . His paramour, and bastard-born, Cersei will pitch a holy fit if he wants her at the wedding. If she consigned the woman to some dark comer below the salt, his sister would risk the Red Viper’s wrath. Seat her beside him at the high table, and every other lady on the dais was like to take offense. Did Prince Doran mean to provoke a quarrel?  Prince Oberyn wheeled his horse about to face his fellow Dornishmen. “Ellaria, lords and ladies, sers, see how well King Joffrey loves us. His Grace has been so kind as to send his own Uncle Imp to bring us to his court.”

  Bronn snorted back laughter, and Tyrion  as well. “Not alone, my lords. That would be too enormous a task for a little man like me.” His own party had come up on them, so it was his turn to name the names. “Let me present Ser Flement Brax, heir to Homvale. Lord Gyles of Rosby. Ser Addam Marbrand, Lord Commander of the City Watch. Jalabhar Xho, Prince of the Red Flower Vale. Ser Harys Swyft, my uncle Kevan’s good father by marriage. Ser Merlon Crakehall. Ser Philip Foote and Ser Bronn of the Blackwater, two heroes of our recent battle against the rebel Stannis Baratheon. And mine own squire, young Podrick of House Payne.”

The names had a nice ringing sound as Tyrion reeled them off, but the bearers were nowise near as distinguished nor formidable a company as those who accompanied Prince Oberyn, as both of them knew full well.  “My lord of Lannister,” said Lady Blackmont, “we have come a long dusty way, and rest and refreshment would be most welcome. Might we continue on to the city?”  “At once, my lady.” Tyrion turned his horse’s head, and called to Ser Addam Marbrand reenex. The mounted gold cloaks who formed the greatest part of his honor guard turned their horses crisply at Ser Addam’s command, and the column set off for the river and King’s Landing beyond.  Oberyn Nymeros Martell, Tyrion muttered under his breath as he fell in beside the man. The Red Viper of Dorne. And what in the seven hells am I supposed to do with him?  He knew the man only by reputation, to be sure...

20120603174410_dFYCU
We sat opposite on the ends of our respective beds to hearwhat they might have to communicate. A venerable old manopened the conference.
'"We have understood, gentlemen, that you have come hitherseeking for information respecting the famous Don Quixote,and we have come to give you such information as we may; but,perhaps you will understand me better if I speak in Latin."'"We have learnt the Latin at our schools, but are moreaccustomed to converse in Castilian; pray proceed."'"I am the Medico of the place, an old man, as you see; andwhat little I know has reached me by tradition. It isreported that Cervantes was paying his addresses to a younglady, whose name was Quijana or Quijada. The Alcalde,disapproving of the suit, put him into a dungeon under hishouse, and kept him there a year. Once he escaped and fled,but he was taken in Toboso, and brought back . Cervanteswrote 'Don Quixote' as a satire on the Alcalde, who was avery proud man, full of chivalresque ideas. You can see thedungeon to-morrow; but you should see the BATANES (water-mills) of the Guadiana, whose 'golpear' so terrified SanchoPanza. They are at about three leagues distance."'
The old gentleman added that he was proud to receivestrangers who came to do honour to the memory of hisillustrious townsman; and hoped we would visit him next day,on our return from the fulling-mills, when he would have thepleasure of conducting us to the house of the Quijanas, inthe cellars of which Cervantes was confined.
To the BATANES we went next morning. Their historicalimportance entitles them to an accurate description. Nonecould be more lucid than that of my companion. 'Theseclumsy, ancient machines are composed of a couple of hugewooden mallets, slung in a timber framework, which, beingpushed out of the perpendicular by knobs on a water-wheel,clash back again alternately in two troughs, poundingseverely whatever may be  and the end of the trough into which the water runs. dr bk laser hk'
It will be remembered that, after a copious meal, Sanchohaving neglected to replenish the gourd, both he and hismaster suffered greatly from thirst. It was now 'so dark,'
says the history, 'that they could see nothing; but they hadnot gone two hundred paces when a great noise of waterreached their ears. . . . The sound rejoiced themexceedingly; and, stopping to listen from whence it came,they heard on a sudden another dreadful noise, which abatedtheir pleasure occasioned by that of the water, especiallySancho's. . . . They heard a dreadful din of irons and chainsrattling across one another, and giving mighty strokes intime and measure which, together with the furious noise ofthe water, would have struck terror into any other heart thanthat of Don Quixote.' For him it was but an opportunity forsome valorous achievement. So, having braced on his bucklerand mounted Rosinante, he brandished his spear, and explainedto his trembling squire that by the will of Heaven he wasreserved for deeds which would obliterate the memory of thePlatirs, Tablantes, the Olivantes, and Belianesas , with thewhole tribe of the famous knights-errant of times past.

↑このページのトップヘ