Cymbeline’s first wife died when his three children (two sons and a daughter) were very young. Imogen, the eldest2 of these children, was brought up in her father’s court; but by a strange chance the two sons of Cymbeline were stolen out of their nursery, when the eldest was but three years of age, and the youngest quite an infant; and Cymbeline could never discover what was become of them, or by whom they were conveyed away.
Cymbeline was twice married: his second wife was a wicked, plotting woman, and a cruel stepmother to Imogen, Cymbeline’s daughter by his first wife.
The queen, though she hated Imogen, yet wished her to marry a son of her own by a former husband (she also having been twice married): for by this means she hoped upon the death of Cymbeline to place the crown of Britain upon the head of her son Cloten; for she knew that, if the king’s sons were not found, the Princess Imogen must be the king’s heir. But this design was prevented by Imogen herself, who married without the consent or even knowledge of her father or the queen.
Posthumus (for that was the name of Imogen’s husband) was the best scholar and most accomplished3 gentleman of that age. His father died fighting in the wars for Cymbeline, and soon after his birth his mother died also for grief at the loss of her husband.
Cymbeline, pitying the helpless state of this orphan4, took Posthumus (Cymbeline having given him that name, because he was born after his father’s death), and educated him in his own court.
Imogen and Posthumus were both taught by the same masters, and were playfellows from their infancy5; they loved each other tenderly when they were children, and their affection continuing to increase with their years, when they grew up they privately6 married.
The disappointed queen soon learnt this secret, for she kept spies constantly in watch upon the actions of her daughter-in-law, and she immediately told the king of the marriage of Imogen with Posthumus.
Nothing could exceed the wrath7 of Cymbeline, when he heard that his daughter had been so forgetful of her high dignity as to marry a subject. He commanded Posthumus to leave Britain, and banished8 him from his native country for ever.
The queen, who pretended to pity Imogen for the grief she suffered at losing her husband, offered to procure9 them a private meeting before Posthumus set out on his journey to Rome, which place he had chosen for his residence in his banishment10: this seeming kindness she showed, the better to succeed in her future designs in regard to her son Cloten; for she meant to persuade Imogen, when her husband was gone, that her marriage was not lawful11, being contracted without the consent of the king.
Imogen and Posthumus took a most affectionate leave of each other. Imogen gave her husband a diamond ring, which had been her mother’s, and Posthumus promised never to part with the ring; and he fastened a bracelet12 on the arm of his wife, which he begged she would preserve with great care, as a token of his love; they then bid each other farewell, with many vows13 of everlasting14 love and fidelity15.
Imogen remained a solitary16 and dejected lady in her father’s court, and Posthumus arrived at Rome, the place he had chosen for his banishment.
Posthumus fell into company at Rome with some gay young men of different nations, who were talking freely of ladies: each one praising the ladies of his own country, and his own mistress. Posthumus, who had ever his own dear lady in his mind, affirmed that his wife, the fair Imogen, was the most virtuous17, wise and constant lady in the world.
One of those gentlemen, whose name was Iachimo, being offended that a lady of Britain should be so praised above the Roman ladies, his country-women, provoked Posthumus by seeming to doubt the constancy of his so highly-praised wife; and at length, after much altercation18, Posthumus consented to a proposal of Iachimo’s, that he (Iachimo) should go to Britain, and endeavour to gain the love of the married Imogen. They then laid a wager19, that if Iachimo did not succeed in this wicked design, he was to forfeit20 a large sum of money; but if he could win Imogen’s favour, and prevail upon her to give him the bracelet which Posthumus had so earnestly desired she would keep as a token of his love, then the wager was to terminate with Posthumus giving to Iachimo the ring, which was Imogen’s love present when she parted with her husband. Such firm faith had Posthumus in the fidelity of Imogen, that he thought he ran no hazard in this trial of her honour.
Iachimo, on his arrival in Britain, gained admittance, and a courteous21 welcome from Imogen, as a friend of her husband; but when he began to make professions of love to her, she repulsed22 him with disdain23, and he soon found that he could have no hope of succeeding in his dishonourable design.
The desire Iachimo had to win the wager made him now have recourse to a stratagem24 to impose upon Posthumus, and for this purpose he bribed25 some of Imogen’s attendants, and was by them conveyed into her bedchamber, concealed27 in a large trunk, where he remained shut up till Imogen was retired28 to rest, and had fallen asleep; and then getting out of the trunk, he examined the chamber26 with great attention, and wrote down everything he saw there, and particularly noticed a mole29 which he observed upon Imogen’s neck, and then softly unloosing the bracelet from her arm, which Posthumus had given to her, he retired into the chest again; and the next day he set on for Rome with great expedition, and boasted to Posthumus that Imogen had given him the bracelet, and likewise permitted him to pass a night in her chamber: and in this manner Iachimo told his false tale: “Her bedchamber,” said he, “was hung with tapestry30 of silk and silver, the story was the proud Cleopatra when she met her Anthony, a piece of work most bravely wrought31.”
“This is true,” said Posthumus; “but this you might have heard spoken of without seeing.”
“Then the chimney,” said Iachimo, “is south of the chamber, and the chimney-piece is Diana bathing; never saw I figures livelier expressed.”
“This is a thing you might have likewise heard,” said Posthumus; “for it is much talked of.”
Iachimo as accurately33 described the roof of the chamber; and added, “I had almost forgot her andirons; they were two winking34 Cupids made of silver, each on one foot standing35.” He then took out the bracelet, and said, “Know you this jewel, sir? She gave me this. She took it from her arm. I see her yet; her pretty action did outsell her gift, and yet enriched it too. She gave it me, and said, she prized it once.“ He last of all described the mole he had observed upon her neck.
Posthumus, who had heard the whole of this artful recital36 in an agony of doubt, now broke out into the most passionate37 exclamations38 against Imogen. He delivered up the diamond ring to Iachimo, which he had agreed to forfeit to him, if he obtained the bracelet from Imogen.
Posthumus then in a jealous rage wrote to Pisanio, a gentleman of Britain, who was one of Imogen’s attendants, and had long been a faithful friend to Posthumus; and after telling him what proof he had of his wife’s disloyalty, he desired Pisanio would take Imogen to Milford-Haven, a seaport39 of Wales, and there kill her. And at the same time he wrote a deceitful letter to Imogen, desiring her to go with Pisanio, for that finding he could live no longer without seeing her, though he was forbidden upon pain of death to return to Britain, he would come to Milford-Haven, at which place he begged she would meet him. She, good unsuspecting lady, who loved her husband above all things, and desired more than her life to see him, hastened her departure with Pisanio, and the same night she received the letter she set out.
When their journey was nearly at an end, Pisanio, who, though faithful to Posthumus, was not faithful to serve him in an evil deed, disclosed to Imogen the cruel order he had received.
Imogen, who, instead of meeting a loving and beloved husband, found herself doomed41 by that husband to suffer death, was afflicted42 beyond measure.
Pisanio persuaded her to take comfort, and wait with patient fortitude43 for the time when Posthumus should see and repent44 his injustice45: in the meantime, as she refused in her distress46 to return to her father’s court, he advised her to dress herself in boy’s clothes for more security in travelling; to which advice she agreed, and thought in that disguise she would go over to Rome, and see her husband, whom, though he had used her so barbarously, she could not forget to love.
When Pisanio had provided her with her new apparel, he left her to her uncertain fortune, being obliged to return to court; but before he departed he gave her a phial of cordial, which he said the queen had given him as a sovereign remedy in all disorders47.
The queen, who hated Pisanio because he was a friend to Imogen and Posthumus, gave him this phial, which she supposed contained poison, she having ordered her physician to give her some poison, to try its effects (as she said) upon animals; but the physician, knowing her malicious48 disposition49, would not trust her with real poison, but gave her a drug which would do no other mischief50 than causing a person to sleep with every appearance of death for a few hours. This mixture, which Pisanio thought a choice cordial, he gave to Imogen, desiring her, if she found herself ill upon the road, to take it; and so, with blessings51 and prayers for her safety and happy deliverance from her undeserved troubles, he left her.
Providence52 strangely directed Imogen’s steps to the dwelling53 of her two brothers, who had been stolen away in their infancy. Bellarius, who stole them away, was a lord in the court of Cymbeline, and having been falsely accused to the king of treason, and banished from the court, in revenge he stole away the two sons of Cymbeline, and brought them up in a forest, where he lived concealed in a cave. He stole them through revenge, but he soon loved them as tenderly as if they had been his own children, educated them carefully, and they grew up fine youths, their princely spirits leading them to bold and daring actions; and as they subsisted55 by hunting, they were active and hardy56, and were always pressing their supposed father to let them seek their fortune in the wars.
At the cave where these youths dwelt it was Imogen’s fortune to arrive. She had lost her way in a large forest, through which her road lay to Milford-Haven (from which she meant to embark57 for Rome); and being unable to find any place where she could purchase food, she was with weariness and hunger almost dying; for it is not merely putting on a man’s apparel that will enable a young lady, tenderly brought up, to bear the fatigue58 of wandering about lonely forests like a man. Seeing this cave, she entered, hoping to find some one within of whom she could procure food. She found the cave empty, but looking about she discovered some cold meat, and her hunger was so pressing, that she could not wait for an invitation, but sat down and began to eat. “Ah,” said she, talking to herself, “I see a man’s life is a tedious one; how tired am I! for two nights together I have made the ground my bed: my resolution helps me, or I should be sick. When Pisanio showed me Milford-Haven from the mountain top, how near it seemed!” Then the thoughts of her husband and his cruel mandate59 came across her, and she said, “My dear Posthumus, thou art a false one!”
The two brothers of Imogen, who had been hunting with their reputed father, Bellarius, were by this time returned home. Bellarius had given them the names of Polydore and Cadwal, and they knew no better, but supposed that Bellarius was their father; but the real names of these princes were Guiderius and Arviragus.
Bellarius entered the cave first, and seeing Imogen, stopped them, saying, “Come not in yet; it eats our victuals60, or I should think it was a fairy.”
“What is the matter, sir?” said the young men. “By Jupiter,” said Bellarius again, “there is an angel in the cave, or if not, an earthly paragon61.” So beautiful did Imogen look in her boy’s apparel.
She, hearing the sound of voices, came forth62 from the cave, and addressed them in these words: “Good masters, do not harm me; before I entered your cave, I had thought to have begged or bought what I have eaten. Indeed I have stolen nothing, nor would I, though I had found gold strewed63 on the floor. Here is money for my meat, which I would have left on the board when I had made my meal, and parted with prayers for the provider.” They refused her money with great earnestness. “I see you are angry with me,” said the timid Imogen; “but, sirs, if you kill me for my fault, know that I should have died if I had not made it.”
“Whither are you bound?” asked Bellarius, “and what is your name?”
“Fidele is my name,” answered Imogen. “I have a kinsman65, who is bound for Italy; he embarked66 at Milford-Haven, to whom being going, almost spent with hunger, I am fallen into this offence.”
“Prithee, fair youth,” said old Bellarius, “do not think us churls, nor measure our good minds by this rude place we live in. You are well encountered; it is almost night. You shall have better cheer before you depart, and thanks to stay and eat it. Boys, bid him welcome.”
The gentle youths, her brothers, then welcomed Imogen to their cave with many kind expressions, saying they would love her (or, as they said, him) as a brother; and they entered the cave, where (they having killed venison when they were hunting) Imogen delighted them with her neat housewifery, assisting them in preparing their supper; for though it is not the custom now for young women of high birth to understand cookery, it was then, and Imogen excelled in this useful art; and, as her brothers prettily67 expressed it, Fidele cut their roots in characters, and sauced their broth54, as if Juno had been sick, and Fidele were her dieter. “And then,” said Polydore to his brother, “how angel-like he sings!”
They also remarked to each other, that though Fidele smiled so sweetly, yet so sad a melancholy68 did overcloud his lovely face, as if grief and patience had together taken possession of him.
For these her gentle qualities (or perhaps it was their near relationship, though they knew it not) Imogen (or, as the boys called her, Fidele) became the doting-piece of her brothers, and she scarcely less loved them, thinking that but for the memory of her dear Posthumus, she could live and die in the cave with these wild forest youths; and she gladly consented to stay with them, till she was enough rested from the fatigue of travelling to pursue her way to Milford-Haven.
When the venison they had taken was all eaten and they were going out to hunt for more, Fidele could not accompany them because she was unwell. Sorrow, no doubt, for her husband’s cruel usage, as well as the fatigue of wandering in the forest, was the cause of her illness.
They then bid her farewell, and went to their hunt, praising all the way the noble parts and graceful69 demeanour of the youth Fidele.
Imogen was no sooner left alone than she recollected70 the cordial Pisanio had given her, and drank it off, and presently fell into a sound and death-like sleep.
When Bellarius and her brothers returned from hunting, Polydore went first into the cave, and supposing her asleep, pulled off his heavy shoes, that he might tread softly and not awake her; so did true gentleness spring up in the minds of these princely foresters; but he soon discovered that she could not be awakened71 by any noise, and concluded her to be dead, and Polydore lamented72 over her with dear and brotherly regret, as if they had never from their infancy been parted.
Bellarius also proposed to carry her out into the forest, and there celebrate her funeral with songs and solemn dirges73, as was then the custom.
Imogen’s two brothers then carried her to a shady covert74, and there laying her gently on the grass, they sang repose75 to her departed spirit, and covering her over with leaves and flowers, Polydore said, “While summer lasts and I live here, Fidele, I will daily strew64 thy grave. The pale primrose76, that flower most like thy face; the blue-bell, like thy clear veins77; and the leaf of eglantine, which is not sweeter than was thy breath; all these will I strew over thee. Yea, and the furred moss78 in winter, when there are no flowers to cover thy sweet corse.”
When they had finished her funeral obsequies they departed very sorrowful.
Imogen had not been long left alone, when, the effect of the sleepy drug going off, she awaked, and easily shaking off the slight covering of leaves and flowers they had thrown over her, she arose, and imagining she had been dreaming, she said, “I thought I was a cave-keeper, and cook to honest creatures; how came I here covered with flowers?” Not being able to find her way back to the cave, and seeing nothing of her new companions, she concluded it was certainly all a dream; and once more Imogen set out on her weary pilgrimage, hoping at last she should find her way to Milford-Haven, and thence get a passage in some ship bound for Italy; for all her thoughts were still with her husband Posthumus, whom she intended to seek in the disguise of a page.
But great events were happening at this time, of which Imogen knew nothing; for a war had suddenly broken out between the Roman emperor Augustus C?sar and Cymbeline, the King of Britain; and a Roman army had landed to invade Britain, and was advanced into the very forest over which Imogen was journeying. With this army came Posthumus.
Though Posthumus came over to Britain with the Roman army he did not mean to fight on their side against his own countrymen, but intended to join the army of Britain, and fight in the cause of his king who had banished him.
He still believed Imogen false to him; yet the death of her he had so fondly loved, and by his own orders too (Pisanio having written him a letter to say he had obeyed his command, and that Imogen was dead), sat heavy on his heart, and therefore he returned to Britain, desiring either to be slain79 in battle, or to be put to death by Cymbeline for returning home from banishment.
Imogen, before she reached Milford-Haven, fell into the hands of the Roman army; and her presence and deportment recommending her, she was made a page to Lucius, the Roman general.
Cymbeline’s army now advanced to meet the enemy, and when they entered this forest, Polydore and Cadwal joined the king’s army. The young men were eager to engage in acts of valour, though they little thought they were going to fight for their own royal father: and old Bellarius went with them to the battle. He had long since repented80 of the injury he had done to Cymbeline in carrying away his sons; and having been a warrior81 in his youth, he gladly joined the army to fight for the king he had so injured.
And now a great battle commenced between the two armies, and the Britons would have been defeated, and Cymbeline himself killed, but for the extraordinary valour of Posthumus and Bellarius and the two sons of Cymbeline. They rescued the king, and saved his life, and so entirely82 turned the fortune of the day, that the Britons gained the victory.
When the battle was over, Posthumus, who had not found the death he sought for, surrendered himself up to one of the officers of Cymbeline, willing to suffer the death which was to be his punishment if he returned from banishment.
Imogen and the master she served were taken prisoners, and brought before Cymbeline, as was also her old enemy Iachimo, who was an officer in the Roman army; and when these prisoners were before the king, Posthumus was brought in to receive his sentence of death; and at this strange juncture83 of time, Bellarius with Polydore and Cadwal were also brought before Cymbeline, to receive the rewards due to the great services they had by their valour done for the king. Pisanio, being one of the king’s attendants, was likewise present.
Therefore there were now standing in the king’s presence (but with very different hopes and fears) Posthumus and Imogen, with her new master the Roman general; the faithful servant Pisanio, and the false friend Iachimo; and likewise the two lost sons of Cymbeline, with Bellarius, who had stolen them away.
The Roman general was the first who spoke32; the rest stood silent before the king, though there was many a beating heart among them.
Imogen saw Posthumus, and knew him, though he was in the disguise of a peasant; but he did not know her in her male attire84: and she knew Iachimo, and she saw a ring on his finger which she perceived to be her own, but she did not know him as yet to have been the author of all her troubles: and she stood before her own father a prisoner of war.
Pisanio knew Imogen, for it was he who had dressed her in the garb85 of a boy. “It is my mistress,” thought he; “since she is living, let the time run on to good or bad.” Bellarius knew her too, and softly said to Cadwal, “Is not this boy revived from death?"—“One sand,” replied Cadwal, “does not more resemble another than that sweet rosy86 lad is like the dead Fidele."—“The same dead thing alive,” said Polydore. “Peace, peace,” said Bellarius; “if it were he, I am sure he would have spoken to us."—“But we saw him dead,” again whispered Polydore. “Be silent,” replied Bellarius.
Posthumus waited in silence to hear the welcome sentence of his own death; and he resolved not to disclose to the king that he had saved his life in the battle, lest that should move Cymbeline to pardon him.
Lucius, the Roman general, who had taken Imogen under his protection as his page, was the first (as has been before said) who spoke to the king. He was a man of high courage and noble dignity, and this was his speech to the king:—
“I hear you take no ransom87 for your prisoners, but doom40 them all to death: I am a Roman, and with a Roman heart will suffer death. But there is one thing for which I would entreat88.” Then bringing Imogen before the king, he said, “This boy is a Briton born. Let him be ransomed89. He is my page. Never master had a page so kind, so duteous, so diligent90 on all occasions, so true, so nurse-like. He hath done no Briton wrong, though he hath served a Roman. Save him, if you spare no one beside.”
Cymbeline looked earnestly on his daughter Imogen. He knew her not in that disguise; but it seemed that all-powerful Nature spake in his heart, for he said, “I have surely seen him, his face appears familiar to me. I know not why or wherefore I say, Live, boy; but I give you your life, and ask of me what boon91 you will, and I will grant it you. Yea, even though it be the life of the noblest prisoner I have.”
“I humbly92 thank your highness,” said Imogen.
What was then called granting a boon was the same as a promise to give any one thing, whatever it might be, that the person on whom that favour was conferred chose to ask for. They all were attentive93 to hear what thing the page would ask for; and Lucius her master said to her, “I do not beg my life, good lad, but I know that is what you will ask for."—“No, no, alas94!” said Imogen, “I have other work in hand, good master; your life I cannot ask for.”
This seeming want of gratitude95 in the boy astonished the Roman general.
Imogen then, fixing her eye on Iachimo, demanded no other boon than this: that Iachimo should be made to confess whence he had the ring he wore on his finger.
Cymbeline granted her this boon, and threatened Iachimo with the torture if he did not confess how he came by the diamond ring on his finger.
Iachimo then made a full acknowledgment of all his villany, telling, as has been before related, the whole story of his wager with Posthumus, and how he had succeeded in imposing96 upon his credulity.
What Posthumus felt at hearing this proof of the innocence97 of his lady cannot be expressed. He instantly came forward, and confessed to Cymbeline the cruel sentence which he had enjoined98 Pisanio to execute upon the princess; exclaiming wildly, “O Imogen, my queen, my life, my wife! O Imogen, Imogen, Imogen!”
Imogen could not see her beloved husband in this distress without discovering herself, to the unutterable joy of Posthumus, who was thus relieved from a weight of guilt99 and woe100, and restored to the good graces of the dear lady he had so cruelly treated.
Cymbeline, almost as much overwhelmed as he with joy, at finding his lost daughter so strangely recovered, received her to her former place in his fatherly affection, and not only gave her husband Posthumus his life, but consented to acknowledge him for his son-in-law.
Bellarius chose this time of joy and reconciliation101 to make his confession102. He presented Polydore and Cadwal to the king, telling him they were his two lost sons, Guiderius and Arviragus.
Cymbeline forgave old Bellarius; for who could think of punishments at a season of such universal happiness? To find his daughter living, and his lost sons in the persons of his young deliverers, that he had seen so bravely fight in his defence, was unlooked-for joy indeed!
Imogen was now at leisure to perform good services for her late master, the Roman general Lucius, whose life the king her father readily granted at her request; and by the mediation103 of the same Lucius a peace was concluded between the Romans and the Britons, which was kept inviolate104 many years.
How Cymbeline’s wicked queen, through despair of bringing her projects to pass, and touched with remorse105 of conscience, sickened and died, having first lived to see her foolish son Cloten slain in a quarrel which he had provoked, are events too tragical106 to interrupt this happy conclusion by more than merely touching107 upon. It is sufficient that all were made happy who were deserving; and even the treacherous108 Iachimo, in consideration of his villany having missed its final aim, was dismissed without punishment.
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reigned
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| vi.当政，统治（reign的过去式形式） | |
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eldest
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| adj.最年长的，最年老的 | |
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accomplished
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| adj.有才艺的；有造诣的；达到了的 | |
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orphan
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| n.孤儿；adj.无父母的 | |
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infancy
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| n.婴儿期；幼年期；初期 | |
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privately
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| adv.以私人的身份，悄悄地，私下地 | |
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wrath
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| n.愤怒，愤慨，暴怒 | |
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banished
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| v.放逐，驱逐( banish的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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procure
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| vt.获得，取得，促成；vi.拉皮条 | |
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banishment
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| n.放逐，驱逐 | |
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lawful
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| adj.法律许可的，守法的，合法的 | |
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bracelet
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| n.手镯，臂镯 | |
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vows
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| 誓言( vow的名词复数 )； 郑重宣布，许愿 | |
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everlasting
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| adj.永恒的，持久的，无止境的 | |
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fidelity
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| n.忠诚，忠实；精确 | |
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solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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virtuous
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| adj.有品德的，善良的，贞洁的，有效力的 | |
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altercation
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| n.争吵，争论 | |
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wager
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| n.赌注；vt.押注，打赌 | |
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forfeit
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| vt.丧失；n.罚金，罚款，没收物 | |
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courteous
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| adj.彬彬有礼的，客气的 | |
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repulsed
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disdain
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stratagem
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| n.诡计，计谋 | |
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bribed
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| v.贿赂( bribe的过去式和过去分词 )；向（某人）行贿，贿赂 | |
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chamber
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concealed
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| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
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retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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mole
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| n.胎块；痣；克分子 | |
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tapestry
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| n.挂毯，丰富多采的画面 | |
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wrought
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| v.引起；以…原料制作；运转；adj.制造的 | |
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32
spoke
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| 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 | |
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33
accurately
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| adv.准确地，精确地 | |
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34
winking
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| n.瞬眼，目语v.使眼色( wink的现在分词 )；递眼色（表示友好或高兴等）；（指光）闪烁；闪亮 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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36
recital
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| n.朗诵，独奏会，独唱会 | |
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passionate
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| adj.热情的，热烈的，激昂的，易动情的，易怒的，性情暴躁的 | |
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38
exclamations
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| n.呼喊( exclamation的名词复数 )；感叹；感叹语；感叹词 | |
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39
seaport
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| n.海港，港口，港市 | |
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40
doom
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| n.厄运，劫数；v.注定，命定 | |
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41
doomed
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| 命定的 | |
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42
afflicted
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| 使受痛苦，折磨( afflict的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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43
fortitude
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| n.坚忍不拔；刚毅 | |
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44
repent
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| v.悔悟，悔改，忏悔，后悔 | |
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45
injustice
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| n.非正义，不公正，不公平，侵犯（别人的）权利 | |
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46
distress
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| n.苦恼，痛苦，不舒适；不幸；vt.使悲痛 | |
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47
disorders
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| n.混乱( disorder的名词复数 )；凌乱；骚乱；（身心、机能）失调 | |
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malicious
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| adj.有恶意的，心怀恶意的 | |
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49
disposition
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| n.性情，性格；意向，倾向；排列，部署 | |
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50
mischief
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| n.损害，伤害，危害；恶作剧，捣蛋，胡闹 | |
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51
blessings
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| n.（上帝的）祝福( blessing的名词复数 )；好事；福分；因祸得福 | |
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52
providence
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| n.深谋远虑，天道，天意；远见；节约；上帝 | |
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53
dwelling
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| n.住宅，住所，寓所 | |
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54
broth
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| n.原(汁)汤(鱼汤、肉汤、菜汤等) | |
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subsisted
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| v.（靠很少的钱或食物）维持生活，生存下去( subsist的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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hardy
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| adj.勇敢的，果断的，吃苦的；耐寒的 | |
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57
embark
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| vi.乘船，着手，从事，上飞机 | |
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58
fatigue
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| n.疲劳，劳累 | |
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59
mandate
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| n.托管地；命令，指示 | |
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60
victuals
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| n.食物；食品 | |
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61
paragon
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| n.模范，典型 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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strewed
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| v.撒在…上( strew的过去式和过去分词 )；散落于；点缀；撒满 | |
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strew
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| vt.撒；使散落；撒在…上，散布于 | |
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kinsman
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| n.男亲属 | |
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embarked
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| 乘船( embark的过去式和过去分词 )； 装载； 从事 | |
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prettily
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| adv.优美地；可爱地 | |
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melancholy
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| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
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graceful
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| adj.优美的，优雅的；得体的 | |
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recollected
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| adj.冷静的；镇定的；被回忆起的；沉思默想的v.记起，想起( recollect的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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71
awakened
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| v.（使）醒( awaken的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）觉醒；弄醒；（使）意识到 | |
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72
lamented
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| adj.被哀悼的，令人遗憾的v.（为…）哀悼，痛哭，悲伤( lament的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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73
dirges
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| n.挽歌( dirge的名词复数 )；忧伤的歌，哀歌 | |
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74
covert
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| adj.隐藏的；暗地里的 | |
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75
repose
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| v.(使)休息；n.安息 | |
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76
primrose
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| n.樱草，最佳部分， | |
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77
veins
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| n.纹理；矿脉( vein的名词复数 )；静脉；叶脉；纹理 | |
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78
moss
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| n.苔，藓，地衣 | |
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79
slain
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| 杀死，宰杀，杀戮( slay的过去分词 )； (slay的过去分词) | |
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80
repented
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| 对（自己的所为）感到懊悔或忏悔( repent的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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81
warrior
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| n.勇士，武士，斗士 | |
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82
entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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83
juncture
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| n.时刻，关键时刻，紧要关头 | |
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84
attire
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| v.穿衣，装扮[同]array；n.衣着；盛装 | |
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85
garb
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| n.服装，装束 | |
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86
rosy
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| adj.美好的，乐观的，玫瑰色的 | |
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87
ransom
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| n.赎金，赎身；v.赎回，解救 | |
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88
entreat
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| v.恳求，恳请 | |
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89
ransomed
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| 付赎金救人，赎金( ransom的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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90
diligent
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| adj.勤勉的，勤奋的 | |
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91
boon
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| n.恩赐，恩物，恩惠 | |
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92
humbly
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| adv. 恭顺地，谦卑地 | |
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93
attentive
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| adj.注意的，专心的；关心(别人)的，殷勤的 | |
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94
alas
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| int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
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95
gratitude
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| adj.感激，感谢 | |
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96
imposing
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| adj.使人难忘的，壮丽的，堂皇的，雄伟的 | |
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97
innocence
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| n.无罪；天真；无害 | |
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98
enjoined
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| v.命令( enjoin的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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99
guilt
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| n.犯罪；内疚；过失，罪责 | |
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100
woe
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| n.悲哀，苦痛，不幸，困难；int.用来表达悲伤或惊慌 | |
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101
reconciliation
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| n.和解，和谐，一致 | |
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102
confession
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| n.自白，供认，承认 | |
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103
mediation
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| n.调解 | |
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104
inviolate
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| adj.未亵渎的，未受侵犯的 | |
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105
remorse
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| n.痛恨，悔恨，自责 | |
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106
tragical
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| adj. 悲剧的, 悲剧性的 | |
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107
touching
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| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
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108
treacherous
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| adj.不可靠的，有暗藏的危险的；adj.背叛的，背信弃义的 | |
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