self be a material thing, even as the book is. have i
expressed it? do i make it plain?"
"whereas i hold," shouted the other, "with my revered preceptor,
doctor, preclarus et excellentissimus, that all things are but
thought; for when thought is gone i prythee where are the things
then? here are trees about us, and i see them because i think i
see them, but if i have swooned, or sleep, or am in wine, then,
my thought having gone forth from me, lo the trees go forth also.
how now, coz, have i touched thee on the raw?"
alleyne sat between them munching his bread, while the twain
disputed across his knees, leaning forward with flushed faces and
darting hands, in all the heat of argument. never had he heard
such jargon of scholastic philosophy, such fine-drawn
distinctions, such cross-fire of major and minor, proposition,
syllogism, attack and refutation. question clattered upon answer
like a sword on a buckler. the ancients, the fathers of the
church, the moderns, the scriptures, the arabians, were each sent
hurtling against the other, while the rain still dripped and the
dark holly-leaves glistened with the moisture. at last the fat
man seemed to weary of it, for he set to work quietly upon his
meal, while his opponent, as proud as the rooster who is left
unchallenged upon the midden, crowed away in a last long burst of
quotation and deduction. suddenly, however, his eyes dropped
upon his food, and he gave a howl of dismay.
"you double thief!" he cried, "you have eaten my herrings, and i
without bite or sup since morning."
"that," quoth the other complacently, "was my final argument, my
crowning effort, or peroratio, as the orators have it. for, coz,
since all thoughts are things, you have but to think a pair of
herrings, and then conjure up a pottle of milk wherewith to wash
them down."
"a brave piece of reasoning," cried the other, "and i know of but
one reply to it." on which, leaning forward, he caught his
comrade a rousing smack across his rosy cheek. "nay, take it not
amiss," he said, "since all things are but thoughts, then that
also is but a thought and may be disregarded."
this last argument, however, by no means commended itself to the
pupil of ockham, who plucked a great stick from the ground and
signified his dissent by smiting the realist over the pate with
it. by good fortune, the wood was so light and rotten that it
went to a thousand splinters, but alleyne thought it best to
leave the twain to settle the matter at their leisure, the more
so as the sun was shining brightly once more. looking back down
the pool-strewn road, he saw the two excited philosophers waving
their hands and shouting at each other, but their babble soon
became a mere drone in the distance, and a turn in the road hid
them from his sight.
and now after passing holmesley walk and the wooton heath, the
forest began to shred out into scattered belts of trees, with
gleam of corn-field and stretch of pasture-land between. here
and there by the wayside stood little knots of wattle-and-daub
huts with shock-haired laborers lounging by the doors and red-
cheeked children sprawling in the roadway. back among the groves
he could see the high gable ends and thatched roofs of the
franklin's houses, on whose fields these men found employment, or
more often a thick dark column of smoke marked their position and
hinted at the coarse plenty within. by these signs alleyne knew
that he was on the very fringe of the forest, and therefore no
great way from christchurch. the sun was lying low in the west
and shooting its level rays across the long sweep of rich green
country, glinting on the white-fleeced sheep and throwing long
shadows from the red kine who waded knee-deep in the juicy
clover. right glad was the traveller to see the high tower of
christchurch priory gleaming in the mellow evening light, and
gladder still when, on rounding a corner, he came upon his
comrades of the morning seated astraddle upon a fallen tree.
they had a flat space before them, on which they alternately
threw little square pieces of bone, and were so intent upon
their occupation that they never raised eye as he approached
them. he observed with astonishment, as he drew near, that the
archer's bow was on john's back, the archer's sword by john's
side, and the steel cap laid upon the tree-trunk between them.
"mort de ma vie!" aylward shouted, looking down at the dice.
"never had i such cursed luck. a murrain on the bones! i have
not thrown a good main since i left navarre. a one and a three!
en avant, camarade!"
"four and three," cried hordle john, counting on his great
fingers, "that makes seven. ho, archer, i have thy cap! now
have at thee for thy jerkin!"
"mon dieu!" he growled, "i am like to reach christchurch in my
shirt." then suddenly glancing up,
本文链接:
http://m.picdg.com/38_38017/5748597.html