-
(单词翻译:双击或拖选)
CHAPTER 9
IT was a heavy mass of building, that ch?ateau of Monsieur the Marquis, with a large stone court-yard before it, and two stone sweeps of staircase meeting in a stone terrace before the principal door. A stony2 business altogether, with heavy stone balustrades, and stone urns3, and stone flowers, and stone faces of men, and stone heads of lions, in all directions. As if the Gorgon's head had surveyed it, when it was finished, two centuries ago.
Up the broad flight of shallow steps, Monsieur the Marquis, flambeau preceded, went from his carriage, sufficiently4 disturbing the darkness to elicit5 loud remonstrance6 from an owl7 in the roof of the great pile of stable building away among the trees. All else was so quiet, that the flambeau carried up the steps, and the other flambeau held at the great door, burnt as if they were in a close room of state, instead of being in the open night-air. Other sound than the owl's voice there was none, save the falling of a fountain into its stone basin; for, it was one of those dark nights that hold their breath by the hour together, and then heave a long low sigh, and hold their breath again.
The great door clanged behind him, and Monsieur the Marquis crossed a hall grim with certain old boar-spears, swords, and knives of the chase; grimmer with certain heavy riding-rods and riding-whips, of which many a peasant, gone to his benefactor8 Death, had felt the weight when his lord was angry.
Avoiding the larger rooms, which were dark and made fast for the night, Monsieur the Marquis, with his flambeau-bearer going on before, went up the staircase to a door in a corridor. This thrown open, admitted him to his own private apartment of three rooms: his bed-chamber9 and two others. High vaulted10 rooms with cool uncarpeted floors, great dogs upon the hearths12 for the burning of wood in winter time, and all luxuries befitting the state of a marquis in a luxurious13 age and country. The fashion of the last Louis but one, of tile line that was never to break--the fourteenth Louis--was conspicuous14 in their rich furniture; but, it was diversified15 by many objects that were illustrations of old pages in the history of France.
A supper-table was laid for two, in the third of the rooms; a round room, in one of the ch?ateau's four extinguisher-topped towers. A small lofty room, with its window wide open, and the wooden jalousie-blinds closed, so that the dark night only showed in slight horizontal lines of black, alternating with their broad lines of stone colour.
`My nephew,' said the Marquis, glancing at the supper preparation; `they said he was not arrived.'
Nor was he; but, he had been expected with Monseigneur.
`Ah! It is not probable he will arrive to-night; nevertheless,
leave the table as it is. I shall be ready in a quarter of an hour.' In a quarter of an hour Monseigneur was ready, and sat down alone to his sumptuous16 and choice supper. His chair was opposite to the window, and he had taken his soup, and was raising his glass of Bordeaux to his lips, when he put it down.
`What is that?' he calmly asked, looking with attention at the horizontal lines of black and stone colour'.
`Monseigneur? That?'
`Outside the blinds. Open the blinds.'
It was done.
`well?'
`Monseigneur, it is nothing. The trees and the night are all that are here.'
The servant who spoke17, had thrown the blinds wide, had looked out into the vacant darkness, and stood, with that blank behind him, looking round for instructions.
`Good,' said the imperturbable18 master. `Close them again.' That was done too, and the Marquis went on with his supper. He was halfway19 through it, when he again stopped with his glass in his hand, hearing the sound of wheels. It came on briskly, and came up to the front of the ch?ateau.
`Ask who is arrived.'
It was the nephew of Monseigneur. He had been some few leagues behind Monseigneur, early in the afternoon. He had diminished the distance rapidly, but not so rapidly as to come up with Monseigneur on the road. He had heard of Monseigneur, at the posting-houses, as being before him.
He was to be told (said Monseigneur) that supper awaited him then and there, and that he was prayed to come to it. In a little while he came. He had been known in England as Charles Darnay.
Monseigneur received him in a courtly manner, but they did not shake hands.
`You left Paris yesterday, sir?' he said to Monseigneur, as he took his seat at table.
`Yesterday. And you?'
`I come direct.
`From London?'
`Yes.'
`You have been a long time coming,' said the Marquis, with a smile.
`On the contrary; I come direct.'
`Pardon me! I mean, not a long time on the journey; a long time intending the Journey.
`I have been detained by'--the nephew stopped a moment in his answer--various business.'
`Without doubt,' said the polished uncle.
So long as a servant was present, no other words passed between them. When coffee had been served and they were alone together, the nephew, looking at the uncle and meeting the eyes of the face that was like a fine mask, opened a conversation.
`I have come back, sir, as you anticipate, pursuing the object that took me away. It carried me into great and unexpected peril20; but it is a sacred object, and if it had carried me to death I hope it would have sustained me.'
`Not to death,' said the uncle; `it is not necessary to say, to death.'
`I doubt, sir,' returned the nephew, `whether, if it had carried me to the utmost brink21 of death, you would have cared to stop me there.'
The deepened marks in the nose, and the lengthening22 of the fine straight lines in the cruel face, looked ominous23 as to that; the uncle made a graceful24 gesture of protest, which was so clearly a slight form of good breeding that it was not reassuring25.
`Indeed, sir,' pursued the nephew, `for anything I know, you may have expressly worked to give a more suspicious appearance to the suspicious circumstances that surrounded me.
`No, no, no,' said the uncle, pleasantly.
`But, however that may be,' resumed the nephew, glancing at him with deep distrust, `I know that your diplomacy26 would stop me by any means, and would know no scruple27 as to means.
`My friend, I told you so,' said the uncle, with a fine pulsation28 in the two marks. `Do me the favour to recall that I told you so, long ago.'
`I recall it.'
`Thank you,' said the Marquis--very sweetly indeed.
His tone lingered in the air, almost like the tone of a musical instrument.
`In effect, sir,' pursued the nephew, `I believe it to be at once your bad fortune, and my good fortune, that has kept me out of a prison in France here.'
`I do not quite understand,' returned the uncle, sipping29 his coffee. `Dare I ask you to explain?'
`I believe that if you were not in disgrace with the Court, and had not been overshadowed by that cloud for years past, a letter de cachet would have sent me to some fortress30 indefinitely.'
`It is possible,' said the uncle, with great calmness. `For the honour of the family, I could even resolve to incommode you to that extent. Pray excuse me!'
`I perceive that, happily for me, the Reception of the day before yesterday was, as usual, a cold one,' observed the nephew.
`I would not say happily, my friend,' returned the uncle, with refined politeness; `I would not be sure of that. A good opportunity for consideration, surrounded by the advantages of solitude31, might influence your destiny to far greater advantage than you influence it for yourself. But it is useless to discuss the question. I am, as you say, at a disadvantage. These little instruments of correction, these gentle aids to the power and honour of families, these slight favours that might so incommode you, are only to be obtained now by interest and importunity32. They are sought by so many, and they are granted (comparatively) to so few! It used not to be so, but France in all such things is changed for the worse. Our not remote ancestors held the right of life and death over the surrounding vulgar. From this room, many such dogs have been taken out to be hanged; in the next room (my bedroom), one fellow, to our knowledge, was poniarded on the spot for professing33 some insolent34 delicacy35 respecting his daughter--his daughter? We have lost many privileges; a new philosophy has become the mode; and the assertion of our station, in these days, might (I do not go so far as to say would, but might) cause us real inconvenience. All very bad, very bad!'
The Marquis took a gentle little pinch of snuff, and shook his head; as elegantly despondent36 as he could becomingly be of a country still containing himself, that great means of regeneration.
`We have so asserted our station, both in the old time and in the modern time also,' said the nephew, gloomily, `that I believe our name to be more detested37 than any name in France.'
`Let us hope so,' said the uncle. `Detestation of the high is the involuntary homage38 of the low.'
`There is not,' pursued the nephew, in his former tone, `a face I can look at, in all this country round about us, which looks at me with any deference39 on it but the dark deference of fear and slavery.'
`A compliment,' said the Marquis, `to the grandeur40 of the family, merited by the manner in which the family has sustained its grandeur. Hah!' And he took another gentle little pinch of snuff, and lightly crossed his legs.
But, when his nephew, leaning an elbow on the table, covered his eyes thoughtfully and dejectedly with his hand, the fine mask looked at him sideways with a stronger concentration of keenness, closeness, and dislike, than was comportable with its wearer's assumption of indifference41.
`Repression is the only lasting42 philosophy. The dark deference of fear and slavery, my friend,' observed the Marquis, `will keep tee dogs obedient to the whip, as long as this roof,' looking up to it, `shuts out the sky.'
That might not be so long as the Marquis supposed. If a picture of the ch?ateau as it was to be a very few years hence, and of fifty like it as they too were to be a very few years hence, could have been shown to him that night, he might have been at a loss to claim his own from the ghastly, fire-charred, plunder-wrecked ruins. As for the roof he vaunted, he might have found that shutting out the sky in a new way--to wit, for ever, from the eyes of the bodies into which its lead was fired, out of the barrels of a hundred thousand muskets43.
`Meanwhile,' said the Marquis, `I will preserve the honour and repose44 of the family, if you will not. But you must be fatigued45. Shall we terminate our Conference for the night?'
`A moment more.'
`An hour, if you please.'
`Sir,' said the nephew, `we have done wrong, and are reaping the fruits of wrong.'
`We have done wrong?' repeated the Marquis, with an inquiring smile, and delicately pointing, first to his nephew, then to himself.
`Our family; our honourable46 family, whose honour is of so much account to both of us, in such different ways. Even in my father's time, we did a world of wrong, injuring every human creature who came between us and our pleasure, whatever it was. Why need I speak of my father's time, when it is equally yours? Can I separate my father's twin-brother, joint47 inheritor, and next successor, from himself?'
`Death has done that!' said the Marquis.
`And has left me,' answered the nephew, `bound to a system that is frightful48 to me, responsible for it, but powerless in it; seeking to execute the last request of my dear mother's lips, and obey the last look of my dear mother's eyes, which implored49 file to have mercy and to redress50; and tortured by seeking assistance and power in vain?
`Seeking them from me, my nephew,' said the Marquis, touching51 him on the breast with his forefinger--they were now standing52 by the hearth11--you will for ever seek them in vain, be assured.
Every fine straight line in the clear whiteness of his face, was cruelly, craftily53, and closely compressed, while he stood looking quietly at his nephew, with his snuff-box in his hand.
Once again he touched him on the breast, as though his finger were the fine point of a small sword, with which, in delicate finesse54, he ran him through the body, and said,
`My friend, I will die, perpetuating55 the system under which I have lived.'
When he had said it, he took a culminating pinch of Snuff, and put his box in his pocket.
`Better to be a rational creature,' he added then, after ringing a small bell on the table, `and accept your natural destiny. But you are lost, Monsieur Charles, I see.'
`This property and France are lost to me,' said the nephew, sadly; `I renounce56 them.'
`Are they both yours to renounce? France may be, but is the property? It is scarcely worth mentioning; but, is it yet?'
`I had no intention, in the words I used, to claim it yet. If it passed to me from you, to-morrow---
`Which I have the vanity to hope is not probable.'
`--or twenty years hence---'
`You do me too much honour,' said the Marquis; `still, I prefer that supposition.'
`--I would abandon it, and live otherwise and elsewhere. It is little to relinquish57. What is it but a wilderness58 of misery59 and ruin?'
`Hah!' said the Marquis, glancing round the luxurious room. `To the eye it is fair enough, here; but seen in its integrity, under the sky, and by the daylight, it is a crumbling60 tower of waste, mismanagement, extortion, debt, mortgage, oppression, hunger, nakedness, and suffering.'
`Hah!' said the Marquis again, in a well-satisfied manner.
`If it ever becomes mine, it shall be put into some hands better qualified61 to free it slowly (if such a thing is possible) from the weight that drags it down, so that the miserable62 people Who cannot leave it and who have been long wrung63 to the last point of endurance, may, in another generation, suffer less; bat it is not for me. There is a curse on it, and on all this land.'
`And you?' said the uncle. `Forgive my curiosity; do you, under your new philosophy, graciously intend to live?'
`I must do, to live, what others of my countrymen, even with nobility at their backs, may have to do some day--work.'
`In England, for example?'
`Yes. The family honour, sir, is safe from me in this country. The family name can suffer from me in no other, for I bear it in no other.'
The ringing of the bell had caused the adjoining bedchamber to be lighted. It now shone brightly, through the door of communication. The Marquis looked that way, and listened for the retreating step of his valet.
`England is very attractive to you, seeing how indifferently you have prospered64 there,' he observed then, turning his calm face to his nephew with a smile.
`I have already said, that for my prospering65 there, I am sensible I may be indebted to you, sir. For the rest, it is my Refuge.'
`They say, those boastful English, that it is the Refuge of many. You know a compatriot who has found a Refuge there? A Doctor?'
`Yes.'
`With, a daughter?'
`Yes,' said the Marquis. `You are fatigued. Good-night!'
As he bent66 his head in his most courtly manner, there was a secrecy67 in his smiling face, and he conveyed an air of mystery to those words, which struck the eyes and ears of his nephew forcibly. At the same time, the thin straight lines of the setting of the eyes, and the thin straight lips, and the markings in the nose, curved with a sarcasm68 that looked handsomely diabolic.
`Yes,' repeated the Marquis. `A Doctor with a daughter. Yes. So commences the new philosophy! You are fatigued. Good-night!'
It would have been of as much avail to interrogate69 any stone face outside the ch?ateau as to interrogate that face of his. The nephew looked at him in vain, in passing on to the door.
`Good-night!' said the uncle. `I look to the pleasure of seeing you again in the morning. Good repose! Light Monsieur my nephew to his chamber there!--And burn Monsieur my nephew in his bed, if you will,' he added to himself, before he rang his little bell again, and summoned his valet to his own bedroom.
The valet come and gone, Monsieur the Marquis walked to and fro in his loose chamber-robe, to prepare himself gently for sleep, that hot still night. Rustling70 about the room, his softly-slippered feet making no noise on the floor, he moved like a refined tiger--looked like some enchanted71 marquis of the impenitently72 wicked sort, in story, whose periodical change into tiger form was either just going off, or just coming on.
He moved from end to end of his voluptuous73 bedroom, looking again at the scraps74 of the day's journey that came unbidden into his mind; the slow toil75 up the hill at sunset, the setting sun, the descent, the mill, the prison on the crag, the little village in the hollow, the peasants at the fountain, and the mender of roads with his blue cap pointing out the chain under the carriage. That fountain suggested the Paris fountain, the little bundle lying on the step, the women bending over it, and the tall man with his arms up, crying, `Dead!'
`I am cool now,' said Monsieur the Marquis, `and may go to bed.'
So, leaving only one light burning on the large hearth, he let his thin gauze curtains fall around him, and heard the night break its silence with a long sigh as he composed himself to sleep.
The stone faces on the outer walls stared blindly at the black night for three heavy hours; for three heavy hours tile horses in the stables rattled76 at their racks, the dogs barked, and the owl made a noise with very little resemblance in it to the noise conventionally assigned to the owl by men-poets. But it is the obstinate77 custom of such creatures hardly ever to say what is set down for them.
For three heavy hours, the stone faces of the ch?ateau, lion and human, stared blindly at the night. Dead darkness lay on all the landscape, dead darkness added its own hush78 to the hushing dust on all the roads. The burial-place had got to the pass that its little heaps of poor grass were undistinguishable from one another; the figure on the Cross might have come down, for anything that could be seen of it. In the village, taxers and taxed were fast asleep. Dreaming, perhaps, of banquets, as the starved usually do, and of ease and rest, as the driven slave and the yoked79 ox may, its lean inhabitants slept soundly, and were fed and freed.
The fountain in the village flowed unseen and unheard, and the fountain at the ch?ateau dropped unseen and unheard--both melting away, like the minutes that were falling from the spring of Time--through three dark hours. Then, the grey water of both began to be ghostly in the light, and the eyes of the stone faces of the ch?ateau were opened.
Lighter80 and lighter, until at last the sun touched the tops of the still trees, and poured its radiance over the hill. In the glow, the water of the ch?ateau fountain seemed to turn to blood, and the stone faces crimsoned81. The carol of the birds was loud and high, and, on the weather-beaten sill of the great window of the bedchamber of Monsieur the Marquis, one little bird sang its sweetest song with all its might. At this, the nearest stone face seemed to stare amazed, and, with opened mouth and dropped under-jaw, looked awe-stricken.
Now, the sun was full up, and movement began in the village. Casement82 windows opened, crazy doors were unbarred, and people came forth83 shivering--chilled, as yet, by the new sweet air. Then began the rarely lightened toil of the day among the village population. Some, to the fountain; some, to the fields; men and women here, to dig and delve84; men and women there, to see to the poor live stock, and lead the bony cows out, to such pasture as could be found by the roadside. In the church and at the Cross, a kneeling figure or two; attendant on the latter prayers, the led cow, trying for a breakfast among the weeds at its foot.
The ch?ateau awoke later, as became its quality, but awoke gradually and surely. First, the lonely boar-spears and knives of the chase had been reddened as of old; then, had gleamed trenchant85 in the morning sunshine; now, doors and windows were thrown open, horses in their stables looked round over their shoulders at the light and freshness pouring in at door+ways, leaves sparkled and rustled86 at iron-grated windows, dogs pulled hard at their chains, and reared impatient to be loosed.
All these trivial incidents belonged to the routine of life, and the return of morning. Surely, not so the ringing of the great hell of the ch?ateau, nor the running up and down the stairs; nor the hurried figures on the terrace; nor the booting and tramping here and there and everywhere, nor the quick saddling of horses and riding away?
What winds conveyed this hurry to the grizzled mender of roads, already at work on the hill-top beyond the village, with his day's dinner (not much to carry) lying in a bundle that it was worth no crow's while to peck at, on a heap of stones? Had the birds, carrying some grains of it to a distance, dropped one over him as they sow chance seeds? Whether or no, the mender of roads ran, on the sultry morning, as if for his life, down the hill, knee-high in dust, and never stopped till he got to the fountain.
All the people of the village were at the fountain, standing about in their depressed87 manner, and whispering low, but showing no other emotions than grim curiosity and surprise. The led cows, hastily brought in and tethered to anything that would hold them, were looking stupidly on, or lying down chewing the cud of nothing particularly repaying their trouble, which they had picked up in their interrupted saunter. Some of the people of the ch?ateau, and some of those of the posting-house, and all the taxing authorities, were armed more or less, and were crowded on the other side of the little street in a purposeless way, that was highly fraught88 with nothing. Already, the mender of roads had penetrated89 into the midst of a group of fifty particular friends, and was smiting90 himself in the breast with his blue cap. What did all this portend91, and what portended92 the swift hoisting-up of Monsieur Gabelle behind a servant on horseback, and the conveying away of the said Gabelle (double-laden though the horse was), at a gallop93, like a new version of the German ballad94 of Leonora?
It portended that there was one stone face too many, up at the ch?ateau.
The Gorgon had surveyed the building again in the night, and had added the one stone face wanting; the stone face for which it had waited through about two hundred years.
It lay back on the pillow of Monsieur the Marquis. It was like a fine mask, suddenly startled, made angry, and petrified95. Driven home into the heart of the stone figure attached to it, was a knife. Round its hilt was a frill of paper, on which was scrawled96:
`Drive him fast to his tomb. This, from JACQUES.'
收听单词发音 |
1
gorgon
|
|
| n.丑陋女人，蛇发女怪 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
stony
|
|
| adj.石头的，多石头的，冷酷的，无情的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
urns
|
|
| n.壶( urn的名词复数 )；瓮；缸；骨灰瓮 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
sufficiently
|
|
| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
elicit
|
|
| v.引出,抽出,引起 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
remonstrance
|
|
| n抗议，抱怨 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
owl
|
|
| n.猫头鹰，枭 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
benefactor
|
|
| n. 恩人，行善的人，捐助人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
chamber
|
|
| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
vaulted
|
|
| adj.拱状的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
hearth
|
|
| n.壁炉炉床，壁炉地面 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
hearths
|
|
| 壁炉前的地板，炉床，壁炉边( hearth的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
luxurious
|
|
| adj.精美而昂贵的；豪华的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
conspicuous
|
|
| adj.明眼的，惹人注目的；炫耀的，摆阔气的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
diversified
|
|
| adj.多样化的，多种经营的v.使多样化，多样化( diversify的过去式和过去分词 )；进入新的商业领域 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
sumptuous
|
|
| adj.豪华的，奢侈的，华丽的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
spoke
|
|
| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
imperturbable
|
|
| adj.镇静的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
halfway
|
|
| adj.中途的，不彻底的，部分的；adv.半路地，在中途，在半途 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
peril
|
|
| n.(严重的)危险；危险的事物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
brink
|
|
| n.(悬崖、河流等的)边缘，边沿 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
lengthening
|
|
| （时间或空间）延长，伸长( lengthen的现在分词 )； 加长 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
ominous
|
|
| adj.不祥的，不吉的，预兆的，预示的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
graceful
|
|
| adj.优美的，优雅的；得体的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
reassuring
|
|
| a.使人消除恐惧和疑虑的，使人放心的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
diplomacy
|
|
| n.外交；外交手腕，交际手腕 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
scruple
|
|
| n./v.顾忌，迟疑 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
pulsation
|
|
| n.脉搏，悸动，脉动；搏动性 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
sipping
|
|
| v.小口喝，呷，抿( sip的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
fortress
|
|
| n.堡垒，防御工事 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
solitude
|
|
| n. 孤独; 独居,荒僻之地,幽静的地方 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
importunity
|
|
| n.硬要，强求 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
professing
|
|
| 声称( profess的现在分词 )； 宣称； 公开表明； 信奉 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
insolent
|
|
| adj.傲慢的，无理的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
delicacy
|
|
| n.精致，细微，微妙，精良；美味，佳肴 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
despondent
|
|
| adj.失望的，沮丧的，泄气的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
detested
|
|
| v.憎恶，嫌恶，痛恨( detest的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
homage
|
|
| n.尊敬，敬意，崇敬 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
deference
|
|
| n.尊重，顺从；敬意 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
grandeur
|
|
| n.伟大，崇高，宏伟，庄严，豪华 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
indifference
|
|
| n.不感兴趣，不关心，冷淡，不在乎 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
lasting
|
|
| adj.永久的，永恒的；vbl.持续，维持 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
muskets
|
|
| n.火枪，（尤指）滑膛枪( musket的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
repose
|
|
| v.(使)休息；n.安息 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
fatigued
|
|
| adj. 疲乏的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
honourable
|
|
| adj.可敬的；荣誉的，光荣的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
joint
|
|
| adj.联合的，共同的；n.关节，接合处；v.连接，贴合 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
frightful
|
|
| adj.可怕的；讨厌的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
implored
|
|
| 恳求或乞求（某人）( implore的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
redress
|
|
| n.赔偿，救济，矫正；v.纠正，匡正，革除 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
touching
|
|
| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
standing
|
|
| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
craftily
|
|
| 狡猾地，狡诈地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
finesse
|
|
| n.精密技巧，灵巧，手腕 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
perpetuating
|
|
| perpetuate的现在进行式 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
renounce
|
|
| v.放弃；拒绝承认，宣布与…断绝关系 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
relinquish
|
|
| v.放弃，撤回，让与，放手 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
58
wilderness
|
|
| n.杳无人烟的一片陆地、水等，荒漠 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
59
misery
|
|
| n.痛苦，苦恼，苦难；悲惨的境遇，贫苦 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
crumbling
|
|
| adj.摇摇欲坠的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
61
qualified
|
|
| adj.合格的，有资格的，胜任的，有限制的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
62
miserable
|
|
| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
63
wrung
|
|
| 绞( wring的过去式和过去分词 )； 握紧（尤指别人的手）； 把（湿衣服）拧干； 绞掉（水） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
64
prospered
|
|
| 成功，兴旺( prosper的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
65
prospering
|
|
| 成功，兴旺( prosper的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
66
bent
|
|
| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
67
secrecy
|
|
| n.秘密，保密，隐蔽 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
68
sarcasm
|
|
| n.讥讽，讽刺，嘲弄，反话 （adj.sarcastic） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
69
interrogate
|
|
| vt.讯问，审问，盘问 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
70
rustling
|
|
| n. 瑟瑟声，沙沙声 adj. 发沙沙声的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
71
enchanted
|
|
| adj. 被施魔法的，陶醉的，入迷的 动词enchant的过去式和过去分词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
72
impenitently
|
|
| adv.不知悔改地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
|
73
voluptuous
|
|
| adj.肉欲的，骄奢淫逸的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
74
scraps
|
|
| 油渣 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
75
toil
|
|
| vi.辛劳工作，艰难地行动；n.苦工，难事 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
76
rattled
|
|
| 慌乱的，恼火的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
77
obstinate
|
|
| adj.顽固的，倔强的，不易屈服的，较难治愈的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
78
hush
|
|
| int.嘘，别出声；n.沉默，静寂；v.使安静 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
79
yoked
|
|
| 结合（yoke的过去式形式） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
80
lighter
|
|
| n.打火机，点火器；驳船；v.用驳船运送；light的比较级 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
81
crimsoned
|
|
| 变为深红色（crimson的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
82
casement
|
|
| n.竖铰链窗；窗扉 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
83
forth
|
|
| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
84
delve
|
|
| v.深入探究，钻研 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
85
trenchant
|
|
| adj.尖刻的，清晰的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
86
rustled
|
|
| v.发出沙沙的声音( rustle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
87
depressed
|
|
| adj.沮丧的，抑郁的，不景气的，萧条的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
88
fraught
|
|
| adj.充满…的，伴有(危险等)的；忧虑的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
89
penetrated
|
|
| adj. 击穿的，鞭辟入里的 动词penetrate的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
90
smiting
|
|
| v.猛打，重击，打击( smite的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
91
portend
|
|
| v.预兆，预示；给…以警告 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
92
portended
|
|
| v.预示( portend的过去式和过去分词 )；预兆；给…以警告；预告 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
93
gallop
|
|
| v./n.(马或骑马等)飞奔；飞速发展 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
94
ballad
|
|
| n.歌谣，民谣，流行爱情歌曲 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
95
petrified
|
|
| adj.惊呆的；目瞪口呆的v.使吓呆，使惊呆；变僵硬；使石化(petrify的过去式和过去分词) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
96
scrawled
|
|
| 乱涂，潦草地写( scrawl的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
购买
在百度中搜索