Mr Reuben Wray became, as he phrased it, a ‘pupil of the late celebrated4 John Kemble, Esquire’ in this manner. He began life by being apprenticed5 for three years to a statuary. Whether the occupation of taking casts and clipping stones proved of too sedentary a nature to suit his temperament6, or whether an evil counsellor within him, whose name was VANITY, whispered:—‘Seek public admiration7, and be certain of public applause,’— I know not; but the fact is, that, as soon as his time was out, he left his master and his native place to join a company of strolling players; or, as he himself more magniloquently expressed it, he went on the stage.
Nature had gifted him with good lungs, large eyes, and a hook nose; his success before barn audiences was consequently brilliant. His professional exertions8, it must be owned, barely sufficed to feed and clothe him; but then he had a triumph on the London stage, always present in the far perspective to console him. While waiting this desirable event, he indulged himself in a little intermediate luxury, much in favour as a profitable resource for young men in extreme difficulties — he married; married at the age of nineteen, or thereabouts, the charming Columbine of the company.
And he got a good wife. Many people, I know, will refuse to believe this — it is a truth, nevertheless. The one redeeming9 success of the vast social failure which his whole existence was doomed10 to represent, was this very marriage of his with a strolling Columbine. She, poor girl, toiled11 as hard and as cheerfully to get her own bread after marriage, as before; trudged12 many a weary mile by his side from town to town, and never uttered a complaint; praised his acting13; partook his hopes; patched his clothes; pardoned his ill-humour; paid court for him to his manager; made up his squabbles; — in a word, and in the best and highest sense of that word, loved him. May I be allowed to add, that she only brought him one child — a girl? And, considering the state of his pecuniary14 resources, am I justified15 in ranking this circumstance as a strong additional proof of her excellent qualities as a married woman?
After much perseverance16 and many disappointments, Reuben at last succeeded in attaching himself to a regular provincial17 company — Tate Wilkinson’s at York. He had to descend18 low enough from his original dramatic pedestal before he succeeded in subduing19 the manager. From the leading business in Tragedy and Melodrama20, he sank at once, in the established provincial company, to a ‘minor utility’— words of theatrical21 slang signifying an actor who is put to the smaller dramatic uses which the necessities of the stage require. Still, in spite of this, he persisted in hoping for the chance that was never to come; and still poor Columbine faithfully hoped with him to the last.
Time passed — years of it; and this chance never arrived; and he and Columbine found themselves one day in London, forlorn and starving. Their life at this period would make a romance of itself, if I had time and space to write it; but I must get on, as fast as may be, to later dates; and the reader must be contented22 merely to know that, at the last gasp23 — the last of hope; almost the last of life — Reuben got employment, as an actor of the lower degree, at Drury Lane.
Behold24 him, then, now — still a young man, but crushed in his young man’s ambition for ever — receiving the lowest theatrical wages for the lowest theatrical work; appearing on the stage as soldier, waiter, footman, and so on; with not a line in the play to speak; just showing his poverty-shrunken carcase to the audience, clothed in the frowsiest habiliments of the old Drury Lane wardrobe, for a minute or two at a time, at something like a shilling a night — a miserable25 being, in a miserable world; the World behind the Scenes!
John Philip Kemble is now acting at the theatre: and his fame is rising to its climax26. How the roar of applause follows him almost every time he leaves the scene! How majestically27 he stalks away into the Green Room, abstractedly inhaling28 his huge pinches of snuff as he goes! How the poor inferior brethren of the buskin, as they stand at the wing and stare upon him reverently29, long for his notice; and how few of them can possibly get it! There is, nevertheless, one among this tribe of unfortunates whom he has really remarked, though he has not yet spoken to him. He has detected this man, shabby and solitary30, constantly studying his acting from any vantage-ground the poor wretch31 could get amid the dust, dirt, draughts32, and confusion behind the scenes. Mr Kemble also observes, that whenever a play of Shakespeare’s is being acted, this stranger has a tattered33 old book in his hands; and appears to be following the performance closely from the text, instead of huddling34 into warm corners over a pint35 of small beer, with the rest of his supernumerary brethren. Remarking these things, Mr Kemble over and over again intends to speak to the man, and find out who he is; and over and over again utterly36 forgets it. But, at last, a day comes when the long-deferred personal communication really takes place; and it happens thus:—
A new Tragedy is to be produced — a pre-eminently bad one, by-the-by, even in those days of pre-eminently bad Tragedy-writing. The scene is laid in Scotland; and Mr Kemble is determined37 to play his part in a Highland38 dress. The idea of acting a drama in the appropriate costume of the period which that drama illustrates39, is considered so dangerous an innovation, that no one else dare follow his example; and he, of all the characters, is actually about to wear the only Highland dress in a Highland play. This does not at all daunt40 him. He has acted Othello, a night or two before, in the uniform of a British General Officer, and is so conscious of the enormous absurdity41 of the thing, that he is determined to persevere42, and start the reform in stage costume, which he was afterwards destined43 so thoroughly44 to carry out.
The night comes; the play begins. Just as the stage waits for Mr Kemble, Mr Kemble discovers that his goatskin purse — one of the most striking peculiarities45 of the Highland dress — is not on him. There is no time to seek it — all is lost for the cause of costume! — he must go on the stage exposed to public view as only half a Highlander46! No! Not yet! While everybody else hurries frantically47 hither and thither48 in vain, one man quickly straps49 something about Mr Kemble’s waist, just in the nick of time. It is the lost purse! and Roscius after all steps on the stage, a Highlander complete from top to toe!
On his first exit, Mr Kemble inquires for the man who found the purse. It is that very poor player whom he has already remarked. The great actor had actually been carrying the purse about in his own hands before the performance; and, in a moment of abstraction, had put it down on a chair, in a dark place behind the prompter’s box. The humble50 admirer, noticing everything he did, noticed this; and so found the missing goatskin in time, when nobody else could.
‘Sir, I am infinitely51 obliged to you,’ says Mr Kemble, courteously52, to the confused, blushing man before him —‘You have saved me from appearing incomplete, and therefore ridiculous, before a Drury Lane audience. I have marked you, sir, before; reading, while waiting for your call, our divine Shakespeare — the poetic53 bond that unites all men, however professional distances may separate them. Accept, sir, this offered pinch — this pinch of snuff.’
When the penniless player went home that night, what wonderful news he had for his wife! And how proud and happy poor Columbine was, when she heard that Reuben Wray had been offered a pinch of snuff out of Mr Kemble’s own box!
But the kind-hearted tragedian did not stop merely at a fine speech and a social condescension54. Reuben read Shakespeare, when none of his comrades would have cared to look into the book at all; and that of itself was enough to make him interesting to Mr Kemble. Besides, he was a young man; and might have capacities which only wanted encouragement.
‘I beg you to recite to me, sir,’ said the great John Philip, one night; desirous of seeing what his humble admirer really could do. The result of the recitation was unequivocal: poor Wray could do nothing that hundreds of his brethren could not have equalled. In him, the yearning56 to become a great actor was only the ambition without the power.
Still, Reuben gained something by the goatskin purse. A timely word from his new protector raised him two or three degrees higher in the company, and increased his salary in proportion. He got parts now with some lines to speak in them; and — condescension on condescension! — Mr Kemble actually declaimed them for his instruction at rehearsal57, and solemnly showed him (oftener, I am afraid, in jest than earnest) how a patriotic58 Roman soldier, or a bereaved59 father’s faithful footman, should tread the stage.
These instructions were always received by the grateful Wray in the most perfect good faith; and it was precisely60 in virtue61 of his lessons thus derived62 — numbering about half-a-dozen, and lasting63 about two minutes each — that he afterwards advertised himself, as teacher of elocution and pupil of John Kemble. Many a great man has blazed away famously before the public eye, as pupil of some other great man, from no larger a supply of original educational fuel than belonged to Mr Reuben Wray.
Having fairly traced our friend to his connection with Mr Kemble, I may dismiss the rest of his advertisement more briefly64. All, I suppose, that you now want further explained, is:— How he came to teach elocution, and how he got on by teaching it.
Well: Reuben stuck fast to Drury Lane theatre through rivalries65, and quarrels, and disasters, and fluctuations66 in public taste, which overthrew67 more important interests than his own. The theatre was rebuilt, and burnt, and rebuilt again; and still Old Wray (as he now began to be called) was part and parcel of the establishment, however others might desert it. During this long lapse68 of monotonous69 years, affliction and death preyed70 cruelly on the poor actor’s home. First, his kind, patient Columbine died; then, after a long interval71, Columbine’s only child married early; — and woe72 is me! — married a sad rascal73, who first ill-treated and then deserted74 her. She soon followed her mother to the grave, leaving one girl — the little Annie of this story — to Reuben’s care. One of the first things her grandfather taught the child was to call herself Annie Wray. He never could endure hearing her dissolute father’s name pronounced by anybody; and was resolved that she should always bear his own.
Ah! what woeful times were those for the poor player! How many a night he sat in the darkest corner behind the scenes, with his tattered Shakespeare — the only thing about him he had never pawned75 — in his hand, and the tears rolling down his hollow, painted cheeks, as he thought on the dear lost Columbine, and Columbine’s child! How often those tears still stood thick in his eyes when he marched across the stage at the head of a mock army, or hobbled up to deliver the one eternal letter to the one eternal dandy hero of high Comedy! — Comedy, indeed! If the people before the lamps, who were roaring with laughter at the fun of the mercurial76 fine gentleman of the play, had only seen what was tugging77 at the heart of the miserable old stage footman who brought him his chocolate and newspapers, all the wit in the world would not have saved the comedy from being wept over as the most affecting tragedy that was ever written.
But the time was to come — long after this, however — when Reuben’s connection with the theatre was to cease. As if fate had ironically bound up together the stage destinies of the great actor and the small, the year of Mr Kemble’s retirement78 from the boards, was the year of Mr Wray’s dismissal from them.
He had been, for some time past, getting too old to be useful — then, the theatrical world in which he had been bred was altering, and he could not alter with it. A little man with fiery79 black eyes, whose name was Edmund Kean, had come up from the country and blazed like a comet through the thick old conventional mists of the English stage. From that time, the new school began to rise, and the old school to sink; and Reuben went down, with other insignificant80 atoms, in the vortex. At the end of the season, he was informed that his services were no longer required.
It was then, when he found himself once more forlorn in the world — almost as forlorn as when he had first come to London with poor Columbine — that the notion of trying elocution struck him. He had a little sum of money to begin with, subscribed81 for him by his richer brethren when he left the theatre. Why might he not get on as a teacher of elocution in the country, just as some of his superior fellow-players got on in the same vocation82 in London? Necessity whispered, Doubt not, but try. He had a grandchild to support — so he did try.
His method of teaching was exceedingly simple. He had one remedy for the deficiencies of every class whom he addressed — the Kemble remedy: he had watched Mr Kemble year by year, till he knew every inch of him; and, so to speak, had learnt him by heart. Did a pupil want to walk the stage properly? — teach him Mr Kemble’s walk. Did a rising politician want to become impressive as an orator83? — teach him Mr Kemble’s gesticulations in Brutus. So again, with regard to strictly84 vocal55 necessities. Did gentleman number one, wish to learn the art of reading aloud? — let him learn the Kemble cadences85. Did gentleman number two, feel weak in his pronunciation? — let him sound vowels86, consonants87, and crack-jaw syllables88, just as Mr Kemble sounded them on the stage. And, out of what book were they to be taught? — from what manual were the clergymen and orators89, the aspirants90 for dramatic fame, the young ladies whose delivery was ungraceful, and the young gentlemen whose diction was improper91, to be all alike improved! From Shakespeare — every one of them from Shakespeare! He had no idea of anything else: literature meant Shakespeare to him. It was his great glory and triumph, that he had Shakespeare by heart. All that he knew, every tender and lovable recollection, every small honour he had gained in his own poor blank sphere, was somehow sure to be associated with William Shakespeare!
And why not? What is Shakespeare but a great sun that shines upon humanity — the large heads and the little, alike? Have not the rays of that mighty92 light penetrated93 into many poor and lowly places for good? What marvel94 then that they should fall, pleasant and invigorating, even upon Reuben Wray?
So — right or wrong — with Shakespeare for his textbook, and Mr Kemble for his model, our friend in his old age bravely invaded provincial England as a teacher of elocution, with all its supplementary95 accomplishments96. And, wonderful to relate, though occasionally enduring dreadful privations, he just managed to make elocution — or what passed instead of it with his patrons — keep his grandchild and himself!
I cannot say that any orators or clergymen anxiously demanded secret improvement from him (see advertisement) at three-and-sixpence an hour; or that young ladies sought the graces of delivery, and young gentlemen the proprieties97 of diction (see advertisement again) from his experienced tongue. But he got on in other ways, nevertheless. Sometimes he was hired to drill the boys on a speech day at a country school. Sometimes he was engaged to prevent provincial amateur actors from murdering the dialogue outright98, and incessantly99 jostling each other on the stage. In this last capacity, he occasionally got good employment, especially with regular amateur societies, who found his terms cheap enough, and his knowledge of theatrical discipline inestimably useful.
But chances like these were as nothing to the chances he got when he was occasionally employed to superintend all the toilsome part of the business in arranging private theatricals100 at country houses. Here, he met with greater generosity101 than he had ever dared to expect: here, the letter from Mr Kemble, vouching102 for his honesty and general stage-knowledge — the great actor’s legacy103 of kindness to him, which he carried about everywhere — was sure to produce prodigious104 effect. He and little Annie, and a third member of the family whom I shall hereafter introduce, lived for months together on the proceeds of such a windfall as a private theatrical party — for the young people, in the midst of their amusement, found leisure to pity the poor old ex-player, and to admire his pretty granddaughter; and liberally paid him for his services full five times as much as he would ever have ventured to ask.
Thus, wandering about from town to town, sometimes miserably105 unsuccessful, sometimes re-animated by a little prosperity, he had come from Stratford-upon-Avon, while the present century was some twenty-five years younger than it is now, to try his luck at elocution with the people of Tidbury-on-the-Marsh — to teach the graces of delivery at seventy years of age, with half his teeth gone! Will he succeed? I, for one, hope so. There is something in the spectacle of this poor old man, sorely battered106 by the world, yet still struggling for life and for the grandchild whom he loves better than life — struggling hard, himself a remnant of a bygone age, to keep up with a new age which has already got past him, and will hardly hear his feeble voice of other times, except to laugh at it — there is surely something in this which forbids all thought of ridicule107, and bids fair with everybody for compassion108 and goodwill109.
But we have had talk enough, by this time, about Mr Reuben Wray. Let us now go at once and make acquaintance with him — not forgetting his mysterious cash box — at No. 12.
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
lodgings
|
|
| n. 出租的房舍, 寄宿舍 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
slanderously
|
|
| 造谣中伤地，诽谤地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
|
3
discourse
|
|
| n.论文，演说；谈话；话语；vi.讲述，著述 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
celebrated
|
|
| adj.有名的，声誉卓著的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
apprenticed
|
|
| 学徒，徒弟( apprentice的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
temperament
|
|
| n.气质，性格，性情 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
admiration
|
|
| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
exertions
|
|
| n.努力( exertion的名词复数 )；费力；（能力、权力等的）运用；行使 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
redeeming
|
|
| 补偿的，弥补的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
doomed
|
|
| 命定的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
toiled
|
|
| 长时间或辛苦地工作( toil的过去式和过去分词 )； 艰难缓慢地移动，跋涉 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
trudged
|
|
| vt.& vi.跋涉，吃力地走（trudge的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
acting
|
|
| n.演戏，行为，假装；adj.代理的，临时的，演出用的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
pecuniary
|
|
| adj.金钱的；金钱上的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
justified
|
|
| a.正当的，有理的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
perseverance
|
|
| n.坚持不懈，不屈不挠 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
provincial
|
|
| adj.省的，地方的；n．外省人，乡下人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
descend
|
|
| vt./vi.传下来，下来，下降 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
subduing
|
|
| 征服( subdue的现在分词 )； 克制； 制服； 色变暗 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
melodrama
|
|
| n.音乐剧；情节剧 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
theatrical
|
|
| adj.剧场的，演戏的；做戏似的，做作的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
contented
|
|
| adj.满意的，安心的，知足的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
gasp
|
|
| n.喘息，气喘；v.喘息；气吁吁他说 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
behold
|
|
| v.看，注视，看到 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
miserable
|
|
| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
climax
|
|
| n.顶点；高潮；v.(使)达到顶点 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
majestically
|
|
| 雄伟地； 庄重地； 威严地； 崇高地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
inhaling
|
|
| v.吸入( inhale的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
reverently
|
|
| adv.虔诚地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
solitary
|
|
| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
wretch
|
|
| n.可怜的人，不幸的人；卑鄙的人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
draughts
|
|
| n. <英>国际跳棋 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
tattered
|
|
| adj.破旧的，衣衫破的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
huddling
|
|
| n. 杂乱一团, 混乱, 拥挤 v. 推挤, 乱堆, 草率了事 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
pint
|
|
| n.品脱 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
utterly
|
|
| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
determined
|
|
| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
highland
|
|
| n.(pl.)高地，山地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
illustrates
|
|
| 给…加插图( illustrate的第三人称单数 )； 说明； 表明； （用示例、图画等）说明 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
daunt
|
|
| vt.使胆怯，使气馁 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
absurdity
|
|
| n.荒谬，愚蠢；谬论 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
persevere
|
|
| v.坚持，坚忍，不屈不挠 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
destined
|
|
| adj.命中注定的；(for)以…为目的地的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
thoroughly
|
|
| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
peculiarities
|
|
| n. 特质, 特性, 怪癖, 古怪 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
highlander
|
|
| n.高地的人，苏格兰高地地区的人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
frantically
|
|
| ad.发狂地, 发疯地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
thither
|
|
| adv.向那里；adj.在那边的，对岸的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
straps
|
|
| n.带子( strap的名词复数 )；挎带；肩带；背带v.用皮带捆扎( strap的第三人称单数 )；用皮带抽打；包扎；给…打绷带 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
humble
|
|
| adj.谦卑的，恭顺的；地位低下的；v.降低，贬低 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
infinitely
|
|
| adv.无限地，无穷地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
courteously
|
|
| adv.有礼貌地，亲切地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
poetic
|
|
| adj.富有诗意的，有诗人气质的，善于抒情的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
condescension
|
|
| n.自以为高人一等，贬低(别人) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
vocal
|
|
| adj.直言不讳的；嗓音的；n.[pl.]声乐节目 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
yearning
|
|
| a.渴望的；向往的；怀念的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
rehearsal
|
|
| n.排练，排演；练习 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
58
patriotic
|
|
| adj.爱国的，有爱国心的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
59
bereaved
|
|
| adj.刚刚丧失亲人的v.使失去（希望、生命等）( bereave的过去式和过去分词)；（尤指死亡）使丧失（亲人、朋友等）；使孤寂；抢走（财物） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
precisely
|
|
| adv.恰好，正好，精确地，细致地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
61
virtue
|
|
| n.德行，美德；贞操；优点；功效，效力 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
62
derived
|
|
| vi.起源；由来；衍生；导出v.得到( derive的过去式和过去分词 )；（从…中）得到获得；源于；（从…中）提取 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
63
lasting
|
|
| adj.永久的，永恒的；vbl.持续，维持 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
64
briefly
|
|
| adv.简单地，简短地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
65
rivalries
|
|
| n.敌对，竞争，对抗( rivalry的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
66
fluctuations
|
|
| 波动，涨落，起伏( fluctuation的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
67
overthrew
|
|
| overthrow的过去式 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
68
lapse
|
|
| n.过失，流逝，失效，抛弃信仰，间隔；vi.堕落，停止，失效，流逝；vt.使失效 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
69
monotonous
|
|
| adj.单调的，一成不变的，使人厌倦的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
70
preyed
|
|
| v.掠食( prey的过去式和过去分词 )；掠食；折磨；（人）靠欺诈为生 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
71
interval
|
|
| n.间隔，间距；幕间休息，中场休息 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
72
woe
|
|
| n.悲哀，苦痛，不幸，困难；int.用来表达悲伤或惊慌 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
73
rascal
|
|
| n.流氓；不诚实的人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
74
deserted
|
|
| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
75
pawned
|
|
| v.典当，抵押( pawn的过去式和过去分词 )；以（某事物）担保 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
76
mercurial
|
|
| adj.善变的，活泼的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
77
tugging
|
|
| n.牵引感v.用力拉，使劲拉，猛扯( tug的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
78
retirement
|
|
| n.退休，退职 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
79
fiery
|
|
| adj.燃烧着的，火红的；暴躁的；激烈的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
80
insignificant
|
|
| adj.无关紧要的，可忽略的，无意义的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
81
subscribed
|
|
| v.捐助( subscribe的过去式和过去分词 )；签署，题词；订阅；同意 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
82
vocation
|
|
| n.职业，行业 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
83
orator
|
|
| n.演说者，演讲者，雄辩家 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
84
strictly
|
|
| adv.严厉地，严格地；严密地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
85
cadences
|
|
| n.（声音的）抑扬顿挫( cadence的名词复数 )；节奏；韵律；调子 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
86
vowels
|
|
| n.元音，元音字母( vowel的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
87
consonants
|
|
| n.辅音，子音( consonant的名词复数 )；辅音字母 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
88
syllables
|
|
| n.音节( syllable的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
89
orators
|
|
| n.演说者，演讲家( orator的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
90
aspirants
|
|
| n.有志向或渴望获得…的人( aspirant的名词复数 )v.渴望的，有抱负的，追求名誉或地位的( aspirant的第三人称单数 )；有志向或渴望获得…的人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
91
improper
|
|
| adj.不适当的，不合适的，不正确的，不合礼仪的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
92
mighty
|
|
| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
93
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： |
|
|
|
|
94
marvel
|
|
| vi.(at)惊叹vt.感到惊异；n.令人惊异的事 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
95
supplementary
|
|
| adj.补充的，附加的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
96
accomplishments
|
|
| n.造诣；完成( accomplishment的名词复数 )；技能；成绩；成就 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
97
proprieties
|
|
| n.礼仪，礼节；礼貌( propriety的名词复数 )；规矩；正当；合适 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
98
outright
|
|
| adv.坦率地；彻底地；立即；adj.无疑的；彻底的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
99
incessantly
|
|
| ad.不停地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
100
theatricals
|
|
| n.（业余性的）戏剧演出，舞台表演艺术；职业演员；戏剧的( theatrical的名词复数 )；剧场的；炫耀的；戏剧性的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
101
generosity
|
|
| n.大度，慷慨，慷慨的行为 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
102
vouching
|
|
| n.（复核付款凭单等）核单v.保证( vouch的现在分词 )；担保；确定；确定地说 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
103
legacy
|
|
| n.遗产，遗赠；先人(或过去)留下的东西 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
104
prodigious
|
|
| adj.惊人的，奇妙的；异常的；巨大的；庞大的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
105
miserably
|
|
| adv.痛苦地；悲惨地；糟糕地；极度地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
106
battered
|
|
| adj.磨损的；v.连续猛击；磨损 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
107
ridicule
|
|
| v.讥讽，挖苦；n.嘲弄 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
108
compassion
|
|
| n.同情，怜悯 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
109
goodwill
|
|
| n.善意，亲善，信誉，声誉 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |