Hendon made no outcry (Хендон не издал ни крика) under the scourge (под плетью), but bore the heavy blows (но сносил тяжелые удары; to bear — носить) with soldierly fortitude (с солдатской стойкостью). This (это), together with his redeeming the boy (вместе с его освобождением мальчика) by taking his stripes for him (принятием его порки ради него), compelled the respect (вызвало уважение) of even that forlorn and degraded mob (даже той жалкой и низкой толпы) that was gathered there (которая была собрана там); and its gibes and hootings died away (а ее насмешки и улюлюканья исчезли: «умерли прочь»), and no sound remained (и никакой звук не остался) but the sound of the falling blows (кроме звука обрушивающихся ударов). The stillness that pervaded the place (безмолвие, которое наполнило это место) when Hendon found himself (когда Хендон оказался: «нашел себя»; to find — найти) once more in the stocks (снова в колодках), was in strong contrast (была в сильном контрасте = контрастировало) with the insulting clamour (с оскорбительным гамом) which had prevailed there (который преобладал там) so little a while before (такое малое время прежде = так незадолго до того). The king came softly to Hendon's side (король подошел тихо к Хендону; to come — приходить; side — сторона, бок), and whispered in his ear (и прошептал ему на ухо):
'Kings cannot ennoble thee (короли не могут сделать тебя благородным), thou good, great soul (ты, добрая, великая душа), for One who is higher than kings (ибо Один = Тот, Кто выше, чем короли) hath done that for thee (сделал это для тебя); but a king can confirm thy nobility to men (но король может подтвердить твое благородство перед людьми).' He picked up the scourge from the ground (он подобрал плеть с земли), touched Hendon's bleeding shoulders lightly with it (коснулся кровоточащих плеч Хендона ею), and whispered (и прошептал), 'Edward of England (Эдуард Английский) dubs thee earl (дает тебе титул графа; to dub — проивзодить, давать титул, давать прозвище)!'
paralyze [`pærəlaız], magnanimous [mæg`nænıməs], weigh [weı]
The king was seized. He did not even struggle, so paralyzed was he with the mere thought of the monstrous outrage that was proposed to be inflicted upon his sacred person. History was already defiled with the record of the scourging of an English king with whips — it was an intolerable reflection that he must furnish a duplicate of that shameful page. He was in the toils, there was no help for him; he must either take this punishment or beg for its remission. Hard conditions; he would take the stripes — a king might do that, but a king could not beg.
But meantime, Miles Hendon was resolving the difficulty. 'Let the child go,' said he; 'ye heartless dogs, do ye not see how young and frail he is? Let him go — I will take his lashes.'
'Marry, a good thought — and thanks for it,' said Sir Hugh, his face lighting with a sardonic satisfaction. 'Let the little beggar go, and give this fellow a dozen in his place — an honest dozen, well laid on.' The king was in the act of entering a fierce protest, but Sir Hugh silenced him with the potent remark, 'Yes, speak up, do, and free thy mind — only, mark ye, that for each word you utter he shall get six strokes the more.'