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      [名人轶事] 他活到37歲,生前只賣出一幅畫,死後畫作價值張張過億

      4 已有 28 次阅读   2025-09-12 21:08
      他活到37歲,生前只賣出一幅畫,死後畫作價值張張過億 

      1990年,在一次拍賣會上,一幅叫《加歇醫生》的油畫被拍出了8250萬美元的天價。

      而創作者早已在百年前開槍輕生去世,年僅37歲,這幅畫正是他去世前一個月的作品。

      更值得一說的是,他活著就是個無名之輩,畫了那麽多年,畫了2000多幅,卻只賣出過一幅畫,報酬僅有400法郎。

      他叫梵高,一個十足的瘋子,也是一個傻子,一生都在追求愛、最後卻孤獨離開的可憐人。

      文森特·梵高,這個名字不是他的,原本是他哥哥的,是屬于他那個出生不久就夭折的哥哥。

      名字是他哥哥的,就連出生,也像從哥哥那邊偷來的,1853年3月30日,文森特·梵高出生,這一天同樣也是哥哥的忌日。

      父母失去了大兒子,幸好上帝待他們不薄,又賠了他們一個新的兒子。

      上帝讓他在這一天出生,一切就像注定的,只要他們認真,就一定能在這個新生兒身上,把夭折的兒子重新複活。

      于是,他們把大兒子的名字給了剛出生的兒子,把原本要給大兒子的愛,也全部傾注在他身上。

      新的文森特·梵高很聪明,跟哥哥一样聪明,什么都会,对什么都好奇,但看见父母对他投来的那种眼神,很炙熱,又陌生,他就浑身不舒服、甚至恶心。

      他要毀掉,如同上帝毀掉他們心愛的兒子,梵高捏了一只小象,拿給母親看,母親驚歎不已。

      接著,他手輕輕一松,可愛的小象瞬間在地上碎成一片片,母親眼裏的光不見了,由此梵高才迎來做這件工藝品最大的成就感。

      梵高不愛呆在家,他成天往外跑,他喜歡鑽進大自然裏,偷鳥巢上的鳥蛋,巢穴、漁網、灌木,只要跟人類毫無關系的東西,他都喜歡帶回家。

      也正因爲如此,梵高小小年紀,就已經對自然界的一切都了然于胸。

      梵高的妹妹曾說,“那些長得可怕的名字,文森特一個不漏全記了下來。”

      大自然好大,靜靜地接納了許多生物,連他這種外來人的闖入,大自然都沒有動怒。

      可惜,家裏很小,小到梵高的一舉一動都被無限放大,父母動怒了,也失望了。

      他們的兒子不是這樣的,他很乖的,不會天天這樣全身髒兮兮地回來。

      梵高一步步偏離他們心中的兒子,他是他們血緣上的兒子,卻與他們真正的兒子相距甚遠,他是他們的兒子,又不是他們真正的兒子。

      父親很苦惱,“好像他有意添亂,真讓我們傷透腦筋。”

      可他們樂觀地相信,他們真正的兒子還可以找回來的,或者說不願相信,大兒子真的死了。

      于是1864年,他們將11歲的梵高架上黃色馬車,把他扭送至離家21公裏的寄宿學校。

      梵高被趕下黃色馬車,然後隔著圍欄,默默望著那輛黃色馬車駛過草坪,消失在路的盡頭。

      從那之後,他每天只做一件事,就是趴在圍欄邊,靜靜等著那輛黃色馬車出現,接他回家。

      黃色馬車時而會出現,在他鬧事的時候出現,在他屢教不改的時候出現,卻沒有一次是爲送他回家而出現。

      父母把失去兒子的恐懼,就這麽轉嫁給了梵高,後來梵高在精神病醫院時,他害怕地回憶,“我感到格格不入,我好像回到了11歲那年在寄宿學校的日子。”

      他偷偷跑回家,可徒步走了21公裏回到家,換來的卻是又一次放逐,而且這次更遠,遠到黃色馬車也到不了,他就算把腿走斷了也回不了家。

      這一年,梵高13歲,他把新的寄宿學校稱爲監獄,什麽都是冷的,鐵窗冷的,空氣冷的,人也是冷的。

      15歲那年,梵高終于熬不住了,他再次逃回了家,而這次等他的,不再是又一所新的寄宿學校……

      寄宿學校接納不了他,家裏也容納不下他,他的回來,只會給家裏人增添不快。

      梵高在家還沒兩天,父母就將他送去伯伯的畫廊,讓他去賣畫。

      但梵高並沒有把這次放逐當作是放逐,他認爲這是父母給他的一次機會。

      就像上帝給他們機會重新擁有兒子一樣,他也值得有個機會,重新博得父母的喜歡,然後被准許回到家裏。

      他不再往門口看,不再把心思花在等黃色馬車身上,因爲他知道,只要他認真工作,證明自己,黃色馬車會出現的,一定會的。

      他在畫廊拼命工作,把每幅作品的相關信息背得滾瓜爛熟,偶爾需要了解相關書籍,他也是一個畫家關聯好幾個畫家,一口氣讀完了所有的書。

      然而,他越努力越倒黴,畫一幅都沒賣出去,這下不僅是父母對他失望,伯伯也失望了,他把梵高趕去了倫敦分公司。

      梵高知道,黃色馬車不會出現了,這輩子都不可能再出現了,他被抛棄了,被所有人抛棄了。

      在倫敦,梵高認識了房東及她的女兒,她們母女相依爲命,這種家人間的相互依靠,對孤家寡人的梵高有著莫大的吸引力。

      他不可抑制地愛上了房東的女兒,他迫切地希望,她們之間的那種愛,也能分一點點給他。

      哪怕沒有也沒關系,別趕他走就行,光是站在愛的旁邊,梵高就已經幸福得快暈過去了,眩暈之中,他看見了那輛黃色馬車朝自己奔過來。

      聖誕節他在那裏寫信給弟弟提奧說:“噢!我的夥伴,我多麽盼望你也能來到這裏,希望你的聖誕節也過得和我一樣快樂。”字裏行間藏不住的得意、炫耀。

      但他這樣的幸福,在父母那裏愚蠢得可愛。

      父母奉勸他,寡婦的女兒能是什麽好東西,跟那種人混,遲早要墮落,如果他像他哥哥一樣聰明,就應該明白,去跟上流社會的人打交道,才是正道。

      後來,一切似乎是爲了印證父母的猜想,房東的女兒告訴他,她已經同別的男人訂婚了,梵高再次被愛放逐。

      梵高被扔去了阿姆斯特丹,投奔他的遠房姨父,也在這裏,他遇到了人生第二個摯愛,姨父的女兒沃斯,論輩分沃斯還是他的表姐。

      當時,沃斯剛喪夫,帶著一個8歲兒子,梵高欣喜若狂,表姐旁邊空出的丈夫位置,猶如爲他量身定做的。

      表姐疼愛自己的兒子,梵高跟弟弟說:

      “他們真摯地相愛著,你看到傍晚,他們依偎在小小起居室柔和的燈光下的臥房,熟睡中醒來的兒子喚著母親,這是多溫馨的一幕。”

      這一幕有多溫馨,他早就見過,在曾經的房東及她女兒的那裏見過。

      黃色馬車再次出現了,這次無論如何,他也要抓住。

      于是他不管倫理道德,開始瘋狂追求表姐,嚇得表姐連夜逃回了家,梵高不依不饒追到了阿姆斯特丹。

      梵高,沒人喜歡,瘋子一樣的梵高,又怎麽會有人喜歡?對表姐的瘋狂追求,最後也是空歡喜一場。

      但越得不到愛,梵高就失心瘋似的越渴望,他在燈紅酒綠的地方,認識了一個特殊的“工作者”——西恩。

      當時,西恩帶著兩個孩子,肚子還懷著孕,這樣弱小無助的女人,一定需要一個男人照顧的,梵高死去的心,再次複燃。

      他虔誠地跪在西恩腳邊,乞討她施舍一點愛給他,西恩給了。

      可這輛黃色馬車只讓他坐了一會,還沒送他找到家,便把他趕下車。

      西恩因生計重操舊業,甚至像是爲了徹底摧毀梵高的幻想,黃色馬車完全沈入海底,西恩不幸溺水身亡。

      梵高被嚇到了,這次是他主動逃離,他逃去了法國一座安靜的小鎮阿爾。

      恐懼積蘊在他的胸腔,下下不來,上上不去,說也沒人懂,他只能把它畫出來,在小鎮他天天不停地畫呀畫。

      可恐懼、孤獨是畫不完的,他寫信邀請剛認識的朋友高更過來一起長住。

      高更來了,可高更也不是他期待的那輛黃色馬車,高更受夠了梵高的控制欲,不久就決心要離開他。

      梵高慌了,他沒有錢,不能用錢留住高更,他的畫也不值錢,高更看不上,怎麽辦該怎麽辦,高更明天就要走了。

      剛走不久的恐懼,又回來了,此時一步又一步,就要靠近自己了,就在那極度的恐懼中,恐懼似乎給了他留住高更的靈感。

      耳朵!

      他毫無留戀,一刀割下自己的耳朵,送給高更,以此證明他對自己的重要性。

      高更是商人,商人逐利,一只耳朵值什麽錢?要是個知名藝術家的耳朵,他還能拿出去營銷一把,可梵高,什麽都不是!

      高更躲梵高躲得遠遠的,梵高之後各種怪異的舉動,也把自己逼到了精神病院。

      在那裏,孤獨的梵高畫著黃色馬車,給自己畫一個家,他也畫出了絕美的《星月夜》。

      那巨大的、卷曲旋轉的星雲,那一團團誇大了的星光,以及那一輪令人難以置信的橙黃色的明月,大約是梵高的幻覺。

      但這幅畫經後人研究,星空的結構、比例,均符合真實星雲的數據,梵高逝世127年後,這幅畫拍出8.8億元,如今價值更是難以估量了。

      1890年1月,距離梵高飲彈自盡還有半年,弟弟提奧的小孩出生,梵高作爲大伯,爲新生兒送上了祝福,一幅畫作《杏花》。

      從《杏花》裏,綠色調的背景,果實顆顆飽滿,沒有跳脫的筆觸,作畫人似乎很平靜很祥和,完全不似出自精神病人之手。

      然而,如今看來,這種征兆倒像是瀕臨死亡前的回光返照……

      5月,梵高情況好轉,被批准出院,他搬去了奧維爾小鎮,7月27日,他突然中槍,拖著血淋淋的身子回到旅館,兩天後不治身亡。

      對于梵高的死,謎團重重,很多人認爲並非他自己所爲,因爲梵高中槍的位置,他無論以如何扭曲的姿勢,都沒法做到對自己這裏開一槍。

      如若是他自己,這麽近的距離,子彈勢必打穿他的身體,可子彈最終留在了梵高的脊柱骨附近。

      也就是說,開槍的位置應該離他身體有一定距離。

      而且,梵高在咽氣之前,特意交代了一句話:“不要指控任何人,是我自己想要自殺的。”

      畫蛇添足的一筆解釋,很像是爲了掩護誰,于是有種說法,認爲是農場的小孩不小心射殺了梵高。

      犹如之前看不得底层人受苦,梵高执意要去幫助他们一样,如今临终前,梵高也可怜一个小孩子,不忍将他供出来。

      他保護了那個孩子,也宛如保護了37年前那個孤苦無依的小孩,小孩終于坐上那輛黃色馬車,回家了。

      (梵高畫裏時不時出現的“黃色馬車”)

      梵高逝世後,弟弟提奧住進了精神病院,半年後提奧去世,與哥哥一起合葬在奧維爾公墓。

      一個墓碑上刻著1853年—1890年,一個墓碑上刻著1857年—1891年……

      在梵高生命的最後一個月,梵高給弟弟寫信,他說他給心理醫生加歇醫生畫了一張肖像畫,加歇醫生很喜歡,還迫切請求他再畫多一張,他還說,一切都在朝好的方向發展。

      最後一句話,當時他指自己的病,直到如今,我才發現,冥冥之中,這句話也指的是他的畫、他的藝術……

      參考資料:

      1、史蒂芬·奈菲 格雷戈里·怀特·史密斯|梵高传

      2、文森特·梵高|梵高手稿

      下面是梵高作品欣賞:

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      He held out his hand. ‘I shall be very pleased to show you anything I’ve got,’ said Keeling. ‘We will have a cup of{274} tea in my library unless Lady Inverbroom is waiting in your motor.’ The morning after their return from Enoshima was mostly spent at the hotel, as all three of the excursionists were somewhat fatigued with their journey. The boys embraced the opportunity to ask the Doctor the meaning of certain things they had observed in Japan, and which had not been brought up in conversation. Till we look on the world from above." "Would I not tell my dream, as nice young men in the Bible always did?" "No," he said, "my last name is Durand." He gave it the French pronunciation. "She air!" He was pleased. "Yass, we all good frien's togetheh." "Gholson, s'e, 'I done as I done, sir, from my highest sense o' duty. This ain't Lieutenant Helm's own little private war, Lieutenant Quinn, nor mine, nor yours.'" "I am Charlotte Oliver." "I'm afraid your explanation won't hold water," he rejoined. "I can't bring myself not to believe in what I saw. You see, all my life I have been trying to believe in miracles, in manifestations. I have always said that if only we could bring ourselves to accept what is not obvious. My best sermons have been upon[Pg 129] that subject: of the desirability of getting ourselves into the receptive state. Sometimes the Vicar has objected. He seemed to think I was piling it on deliberately. But I assure you, Doctor Allingham, that I have always wanted to believe—and, in this case, it was only my infirmity and my unfortunate nervousness that led me to lose such an opportunity." "It sounds incredible," the Countess said. There was a faint moaning cry in the doorway, a tiny white figure stood there. Mamie had been awakened by the ringing of the bell, she had missed Hetty, and had come down in her childish way to see what was the matter. For compasses, the lead points should be cylindrical, and fit into a metal sheath without paper packing or other contrivance to hold them; and if a draughtsman has instruments not arranged in this manner, he should have them changed at once, both for convenience and economy. Chuck-boring is employed in three cases; for holes of shallow depth, taper holes, and holes that are screw-threaded. As pieces are overhung in lathe-boring there is not sufficient rigidity neither of the lathe spindle nor of the tools to admit of deep boring. The tools being guided in a straight line, and capable of acting at any angle to the axis of rotation, the facilities for making tapered holes are complete; and as the tools are stationary, and may be instantly adjusted, the same conditions answer for cutting internal screw-threads; an operation corresponding to cutting external screws, except that the cross motions of the tool slide are reversed. "Sister," I said, "I am a cousin of S?ur Eulalie, and should like to see her, to know how she is and take her greetings to her family in The Netherlands." 102 As I went a patrol marched out—reinforcements had again come from Tongres—whose task was to clear the district of the enemy. The patrol consisted of six Death-head hussars, about forty bicyclists, and the rest infantry, altogether about four hundred men, who were able to keep together, because the hussars and the cyclists proceeded very slowly and cautiously in the direction of Lanaeken. I went with them, chatting with one of the officers. As soon as they had got to the road, the greatest caution188 was observed. The hussars went in front, followed by some of the infantry, all in loose formation, continually looking about in all directions, with the finger at the cock of the rifle. Nor is it only the personality of Socrates that has been so variously conceived; his philosophy, so far as it can be separated from his life, has equally given occasion to conflicting interpretations, and it has even been denied that he had, properly speaking, any philosophy at all. These divergent presentations of his teaching, if teaching it can be called, begin with the two disciples to whom our knowledge of it is almost entirely due. There is, curiously enough, much the same inner discrepancy between Xenophon’s Memorabilia and those111 Platonic dialogues where Socrates is the principal spokesman, as that which distinguishes the Synoptic from the Johannine Gospels. The one gives us a report certainly authentic, but probably incomplete; the other account is, beyond all doubt, a highly idealised portraiture, but seems to contain some traits directly copied from the original, which may well have escaped a less philosophical observer than Plato. Aristotle also furnishes us with some scanty notices which are of use in deciding between the two rival versions, although we cannot be sure that he had access to any better sources of information than are open to ourselves. By variously combining and reasoning from these data modern critics have produced a third Socrates, who is often little more than the embodiment of their own favourite opinions. the summer when I wasn't teaching Latin to my two stupid children. And so on, in an endless file, come the bodies of the faithful dead, some from long distances, so that their souls may rise at once to paradise from their ashes burnt on the Manumenka. “Looks bad, this-here, don’t it?” He grinned. Turning with a confidential air and addressing Dick, for whom he seemed to have the greater liking, Mr. “Everdail” spoke. “All ready!” called Larry, bending the end of the line so its flow went into the central tank of the amphibian. As soon as the yacht came in sight, they stared toward the stern. “We can prove it—come on!” He held up a hand, and pointed ahead, then opened the throttle, came onto a straightaway course over the hydroplane, rapidly overhauled it and got well ahead. Then, cutting the gun and gliding, as it came up under them, he signaled, and Dick, waiting, ignited a second flare. “What about Tommy Larsen?” He failed in his purpose. “Tommy’s a good pilot,” Jeff admitted. “Well—I’ll be on my way. See you at the next air Derby!” Jeff grinned at his joke and walked on. Countless times his nerves had been pulled by sounds which turned out on second thought to be only the contracting of the hot metal, subjected to the sun all day, as the evening breeze robbed it of its warmth. “He could start his motor and taxi while it warmed up, and be half across the Sound before he took off if he wanted to, in that ‘phib,’” the pilot said. Turning, he called that he would get going, and returned beyond their view beyond the trees. "Some Sierra Blanca, sir," said the soldier. It was respectful enough, and yet there was somewhere in the man's whole manner an air of equality, even superiority, that exasperated the lieutenant. It was contrary to good order and military discipline that a private should speak without hesitation, or without offence to the English tongue. A long sunset shadow fell across his path, and he looked up. Felipa was walking beside a little white burro, and holding Mrs. Campbell's golden-curled baby upon its back. She carried her head superbly erect, and her step, because of the moccasins, was quite noiseless. The glow of the sunset shone in her unflinching eyes, and lost itself in the dull black mass of her hair. She studied his face calmly, with a perfectly impersonal approval. There were also magazines and a few books in more than one language, wild flowers arranged in many sorts[Pg 36] of strange jars, and in the corner, by an improvised couch, a table stacked with cups and plates of Chelsea-Derby, which were very beautiful and very much out of place. "Over here to Tucson" was a three days' ride under the most favorable circumstances; but with the enthusiastic botanist dismounting at short intervals to make notes and press and descant upon specimens, it was five days before they reached, towards nightfall, the metropolis of the plains. At the instant a cloud floated over the sun, and soon a black bank began to fill up the sky above the ca?on. As they ate their breakfast in the tent, the morning darkened forebodingly. Felipa finished the big quart cup of weak coffee hurriedly, and stood up, pushing[Pg 99] back her camp-stool. Her horse and four others were waiting. Kirby was without fear, but he was also without redress. He turned from them, his face contracted with the pain of his impotence, and walked back to the house. "I could order them off the ranch to-night," he told his wife, as he dropped on a chair, and taking up the hearth brush made a feint of sweeping two or three cinders from the floor; "but it's ten to one they wouldn't go and it would weaken my authority—not that I have any, to be sure—and besides," he flung down the brush desperately and turned to her, "I didn't want to tell you before, but there is a pretty straight rumor that Victorio's band, or a part of it, is in these hills. We may need the men at any time." Neither spoke of the two who should have been back hours ago. The night closed slowly down. [Pg 209] "Now you get up and walk in front of me, and don't you try to bolt. I can run faster than you can, and, anyway, I'll shoot you if you try it." The probable outcome of things at the rate they were going was perfectly apparent. Landor would advance in age, respectability, and rank, and would be retired and settle down on three-fourths pay. He himself would end up in some cow-boy row, degraded and worthless, a tough character very probably, a fine example of nothing save atavism. And Felipa would grow old. That splendid triumphant youth of hers would pass, and she would be a commonplace, subdued, middle-aged woman, in whom a relapse to her nature would be a mere vulgarity. She gave a dry little sob of unutterable glad relief and tried to raise her voice and call to him, the call they used for one another when they rode about the ranch. But the sound was only a weak, low wail. Eugene, during these affairs, had been actively prosecuting the fortunes of the Allies with his remnant of an army. He pushed on the siege of Quesnoy, and took it. He sent a flying detachment of one thousand five hundred cavalry, under Major-General Grovestein, to make an incursion into France. This force made a rapid raid in Champagne, passed the Noire, the Meuse, the Moselle, and the Saar, ravaged the country, reduced a great number of villages and towns to[7] ashes, rode up to the very gate of Metz, and then retired to Traerbach with a load of rich booty. This was a proof of what might have been done in France at this period with the whole army united under a commander like Marlborough, in place of miserably giving up everything to that country in the moment of power. As it was, it created the utmost consternation in Paris, the people of which already saw the English at their gate; whilst Louis did not think himself safe at Versailles, but gathered all the troops in the neighbourhood of the capital around his palace, leaving the city to take care of itself. WELFEN CASTLE, HANOVER. Colonel Gardiner endeavoured to charge the advancing enemy with his dragoons; but it was in vain that he attempted to animate their craven souls by word and example—at the first volley of the Highlanders they wheeled and fled. The same disgraceful scene took place on the left, at nearly the same moment. Hamilton's regiment of horse dispersed at the first charge of the Macdonalds, leaving the centre exposed on both its flanks. The infantry made a better stand than the cavalry; it discharged a steady and well-directed volley on the advancing Highlanders, and killed some of their best men, amongst others, a son of the famous Rob Roy. But the Highlanders did not give them time for a second volley; they were up with them, dashed aside their bayonets with their targets, burst through their ranks in numerous places, so that the whole, not being able to give way on account of the park wall of Preston, were thrown into confusion, and at the mercy of the foe. Never was a battle so instantly decided—it is said not to have lasted more than five or six minutes; never was a defeat more absolute. Sir John Cope, or Johnnie Cope, as he will be styled in Scotland to the end of time, by the assistance of the Earls of Loudon and Home, collected about four hundred and fifty of the recreant dragoons, and fled to Coldstream that night. There not feeling secure, they continued their flight till they reached Berwick, where Sir Mark Kerr received Cope with the[97] sarcastic but cruelly true remark that he believed that he was the first general on record who had carried the news of his own defeat. "The same idea has occurred to me," said the Lieutenant; "though I've felt all along that we should not be diverted by anything from making our way as fast as possible up to the main line. What do you think, Shorty?" "I cannot get you out of the army too quickly. Sign this, and leave my office, and take off your person every sign of your connection with the army. I shall give orders that if you appear on the street with so much as a military button on, it shall be torn off you." "I'd probably hit him a welt and he'd go off bawlin' like a calf," he communed with himself. "No; Billings is too tame, now, until he finds out whether we've got anything on him to send him to the penitentiary, where he orter go." "But you ain't nigh 18," said Si, looking him over, pleased with the boy's spirit. Si and Shorty ran down in the direction indicated. They found the boys, stern-eyed and resolute, surrounding two weak-eyed, trembling "crackers," who had apparently come to the train with baskets of leathery-crusted dried-apple pies for sale. The men were specimens of the weak-minded, weak-bodied, lank-haired "po' white trash," but the boys had sized them up on sight as dangerous spies and guerrillas, had laid hands on them and dragged them down into the brush, where Gid Mackall and Harry Joslyn were doing a fair reproduction of Williams, Paulding and Van Wert searching Maj. Andre's clothes for incriminating documents. They had the prisoners' hands tied behind them and their ankles bound. So far they had discovered a clumsy brass-barreled pistol and an ugly-looking spring dirk, which were sufficient to confirm the dangerous character of the men. Two of the boys had secured ropes from the train, which they were trying to fashion into hangman's nooses. Gid and Harry finished a painstaking examination of the men's ragged jeans vests, with a look of disappointment at finding nothing more inculpating that some fishhooks, chunks of twist tobacco and cob-pipes. "Do you say that Sherman has extra tunnels, too, to put in whenever one is needed?" asked Harry, with opening eyes. "You bob-tailed brevet West Pointer," said Shorty savagely, raising his fist, "I've a notion to break you in two for tryin' to beat me out o' what's mine. Git out o' here, or I'll—" Fruyling's World The song was necessary, and his voice, carrying over the sounds that filtered through to him, was clear and strong. The Quarter Sessions were held early in December, and Robert's case came wedged between the too hopeful finances of a journeyman butcher and the woes of a farmer from Guldeford who had tried to drown himself and his little boy off the Midrips. Robert was sentenced to three years' imprisonment. "Of course it is—and the very best silk too. I'll put it on. Please undo my dress." Her look of surprise and adoration was his reward. Pete fetched some soup from the larder and heated it up to a tepid condition; he also produced bread and cold bacon, which the prodigal could not touch. Albert sat hunched up by the fire, coughing and shivering. He had not altered much since he left Odiam; he was thin and hectic, and had an unshaved look about him, also there were a few grey streaks in his hair—otherwise he was the same. His manner was the same too, though his voice had changed completely, and he had lost his Sussex accent. "If I could only see a parson," sobbed Albert at last. "Sacrilege!" shouted he—"sacrilege! Take them, dead or alive!" It was to little purpose that Richard expostulated; the fair Joan was resolved to share in whatever perils might befal her son. As they approached Mile-end, the princess started at the deafening clamour which arose from the multitude; some shouting for Richard as they saw him advance, and others vociferating as loudly that all should hold their peace until they knew what the king would grant. When the tumult had in some degree subsided, Sir Aubrey de Vere and Sir Robert Knowles rode forward in advance of the king, and approaching Jack Straw, who was also on horseback:—
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