A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur’s Court by Mark Twain (my reading book .TXT) 📕

Sir Marhaus came riding on a great horse straight toward them. And when the twelve damsels saw Sir Marhaus they fled into the turret as they were wild, so that some of them fell by the way. Then the one of the knights of the tower dressed his shield, and said on high, Sir Marhaus defend thee. And so they ran together that the knight brake his spear on Marhaus, and Sir Marhaus smote him so hard that he brake his neck and the horse’s back⁠—”

“Well, that is just the trouble about this state of things, it ruins so many horses.”

“That saw the other knight of the turret, and dressed him toward Marhaus, and they went so eagerly together, that the knight of the turret was soon smitten down, horse and man, stark dead⁠—”

“Another horse gone; I tell you it is a custom that ought to be broken up. I don’t see how people with any feeling can applaud and support it.”

“So these two knights came together with great random⁠—”

I saw that I had been asleep and missed a chapter, but I didn’t say anything. I judged that the Irish knight was in trouble with the visitors by this time, and this turned out to be the case.

“⁠—that Sir Uwaine smote Sir Marhaus that his spear brast in pieces on the shield, and Sir Marhaus smote him so sore that horse and man he bare to the earth, and hurt Sir Uwaine on the left side⁠—”

“The truth is, Alisande, these archaics are a little too simple; the vocabulary is too limited, and so, by consequence, descriptions suffer in the matter of variety; they run too much to level Saharas of fact, and not enough to picturesque detail; this throws about them a certain air of the monotonous; in fact the fights are all alike: a couple of people come together with great random⁠—random is a good word, and so is exegesis, for that matter, and so is holocaust, and defalcation, and usufruct and a hundred others, but land! a body ought to discriminate⁠—they come together with great random, and a spear is brast, and one party brake his shield and the other one goes down, horse and man, over his horse-tail and brake his neck, and then the next candidate comes randoming in, and brast his spear, and the other man brast his shield, and down he goes, horse and man, over his horse-tail, and brake his neck, and then there’s another elected, and another and another and still another, till the material is all used up; and when you come to figure up results, you can’t tell one fight from another, nor who whipped; and as a picture, of living, raging, roaring battle, sho! why, it’s pale and noiseless⁠—just ghosts scuffling in a fog. Dear me, what would this barren vocabulary get out of the mightiest spectacle?⁠—the burning of Rome in Nero’s time, for instance? Why, it would merely say, ‘Town burned down; no insurance; boy brast a window, fireman brake his neck!’ Why, that ain’t a picture!”

It was a good deal of a lecture, I thought, but it didn’t disturb Sandy, didn’t turn a feather; her steam soared steadily up again, the minute I took off the lid:

“Then Sir Marhaus turned his horse and rode toward Gawaine with his spear. And when Sir Gawaine saw that, he dressed his shield, and they aventred their spears, and they came together with all the might of their horses, that either knight smote other so hard in the midst of their shields, but Sir Gawaine’s spear brake⁠—”

“I knew it would.”

“⁠—but Sir Marhaus’s spear held; and therewith Sir Gawaine and his horse rushed down to the earth⁠—”

“Just so⁠—and brake his back.”

“⁠—and lightly Sir Gawaine rose upon his feet and pulled out his sword, and dressed him toward Sir Marhaus on foot, and therewith either came unto other eagerly, and smote together with their swords, that their shields flew in cantels, and they bruised their helms and their hauberks, and wounded either other. But Sir Gawaine, fro it passed nine of the clock, waxed by the space of three hours ever stronger and stronger and thrice his might was increased. All this espied Sir Marhaus, and had great wonder how his might increased, and so they wounded other passing sore; and then when it was come noon⁠—”

The pelting singsong of it carried me forward to scenes and sounds of my boyhood days:

“N-e-e-ew Haven! ten minutes for refreshments⁠—knductr’ll strike the gong-bell two minutes before train leaves⁠—passengers for the Shoreline please take seats in the rear k’yar, this k’yar don’t go no furder⁠—ahh-pls, aw-rnjz, b’nan ners, s-a-n-d’ches, p⁠—op-corn!”

“⁠—and waxed past noon and drew toward evensong. Sir Gawaine’s strength feebled and waxed passing faint, that unnethes he might dure any longer, and Sir Marhaus was then bigger and bigger⁠—”

“Which strained his armor, of course; and yet little would one of these people mind a small thing like that.”

“⁠—and so, Sir Knight, said Sir Marhaus, I have well felt that ye are a passing good knight, and a marvelous man of might as ever I felt any, while it lasteth, and our quarrels are not great, and therefore it were a pity to do you hurt, for I feel you are passing feeble. Ah, said Sir Gawaine, gentle knight, ye say the word that I should say. And therewith they took off their helms and either kissed other, and there they swore together either to love other as brethren⁠—”

But I lost the thread there, and dozed off to slumber, thinking about what a pity it was that men with such superb strength⁠—strength enabling them to stand up cased in cruelly burdensome iron and drenched with perspiration, and hack and batter and bang each other for six hours on a stretch⁠—should not have been born at a time when they could put it to some useful purpose. Take a jackass, for instance: a jackass has that kind of strength, and puts it to a useful purpose, and is