Among these, City Churchyards hold a high place. Such strange churchyards hide in the City of London; churchyards sometimes so entirely5 detached from churches, always so pressed upon by houses; so small, so rank, so silent, so forgotten, except by the few people who ever look down into them from their smoky windows. As I stand peeping in through the iron gates and rails, I can peel the rusty6 metal off, like bark from an old tree. The illegible7 tombstones are all lop-sided, the grave-mounds lost their shape in the rains of a hundred years ago, the Lombardy Poplar or Plane-Tree that was once a drysalter’s daughter and several common-councilmen, has withered8 like those worthies9, and its departed leaves are dust beneath it. Contagion10 of slow ruin overhangs the place. The discoloured tiled roofs of the environing buildings stand so awry11, that they can hardly be proof against any stress of weather. Old crazy stacks of chimneys seem to look down as they overhang, dubiously12 calculating how far they will have to fall. In an angle of the walls, what was once the tool-house of the grave-digger rots away, encrusted with toadstools. Pipes and spouts13 for carrying off the rain from the encompassing14 gables, broken or feloniously cut for old lead long ago, now let the rain drip and splash as it list, upon the weedy earth. Sometimes there is a rusty pump somewhere near, and, as I look in at the rails and meditate15, I hear it working under an unknown hand with a creaking protest: as though the departed in the churchyard urged, ‘Let us lie here in peace; don’t suck us up and drink us!’
One of my best beloved churchyards, I call the churchyard of Saint Ghastly Grim; touching17 what men in general call it, I have no information. It lies at the heart of the City, and the Blackwall Railway shrieks18 at it daily. It is a small small churchyard, with a ferocious19, strong, spiked20 iron gate, like a jail. This gate is ornamented21 with skulls22 and cross-bones, larger than the life, wrought23 in stone; but it likewise came into the mind of Saint Ghastly Grim, that to stick iron spikes24 a-top of the stone skulls, as though they were impaled25, would be a pleasant device. Therefore the skulls grin aloft horribly, thrust through and through with iron spears. Hence, there is attraction of repulsion for me in Saint Ghastly Grim, and, having often contemplated26 it in the daylight and the dark, I once felt drawn27 towards it in a thunderstorm at midnight. ‘Why not?’ I said, in self-excuse. ‘I have been to see the Colosseum by the light of the moon; is it worse to go to see Saint Ghastly Grim by the light of the lightning?’ I repaired to the Saint in a hackney cab, and found the skulls most effective, having the air of a public execution, and seeming, as the lightning flashed, to wink28 and grin with the pain of the spikes. Having no other person to whom to impart my satisfaction, I communicated it to the driver. So far from being responsive, he surveyed me — he was naturally a bottled-nosed, red-faced man — with a blanched29 countenance30. And as he drove me back, he ever and again glanced in over his shoulder through the little front window of his carriage, as mistrusting that I was a fare originally from a grave in the churchyard of Saint Ghastly Grim, who might have flitted home again without paying.
Sometimes, the queer Hall of some queer Company gives upon a churchyard such as this, and, when the Livery dine, you may hear them (if you are looking in through the iron rails, which you never are when I am) toasting their own Worshipful prosperity. Sometimes, a wholesale31 house of business, requiring much room for stowage, will occupy one or two or even all three sides of the enclosing space, and the backs of bales of goods will lumber32 up the windows, as if they were holding some crowded trade-meeting of themselves within. Sometimes, the commanding windows are all blank, and show no more sign of life than the graves below — not so much, for THEY tell of what once upon a time was life undoubtedly33. Such was the surrounding of one City churchyard that I saw last summer, on a Volunteering Saturday evening towards eight of the clock, when with astonishment34 I beheld35 an old old man and an old old woman in it, making hay. Yes, of all occupations in this world, making hay! It was a very confined patch of churchyard lying between Gracechurch-street and the Tower, capable of yielding, say an apronful of hay. By what means the old old man and woman had got into it, with an almost toothless hay-making rake, I could not fathom37. No open window was within view; no window at all was within view, sufficiently38 near the ground to have enabled their old legs to descend39 from it; the rusty churchyard-gate was locked, the mouldy church was locked. Gravely among the graves, they made hay, all alone by themselves. They looked like Time and his wife. There was but the one rake between them, and they both had hold of it in a pastorally-loving manner, and there was hay on the old woman’s black bonnet40, as if the old man had recently been playful. The old man was quite an obsolete41 old man, in knee-breeches and coarse grey stockings, and the old woman wore mittens42 like unto his stockings in texture43 and in colour. They took no heed44 of me as I looked on, unable to account for them. The old woman was much too bright for a pew-opener, the old man much too meek45 for a beadle. On an old tombstone in the foreground between me and them, were two cherubim; but for those celestial46 embellishments being represented as having no possible use for knee-breeches, stockings, or mittens, I should have compared them with the hay-makers, and sought a likeness47. I coughed and awoke the echoes, but the hay-makers never looked at me. They used the rake with a measured action, drawing the scanty48 crop towards them; and so I was fain to leave them under three yards and a half of darkening sky, gravely making hay among the graves, all alone by themselves. Perhaps they were Spectres, and I wanted a Medium.
In another City churchyard of similar cramped49 dimensions, I saw, that selfsame summer, two comfortable charity children. They were making love — tremendous proof of the vigour50 of that immortal51 article, for they were in the graceful52 uniform under which English Charity delights to hide herself — and they were overgrown, and their legs (his legs at least, for I am modestly incompetent53 to speak of hers) were as much in the wrong as mere54 passive weakness of character can render legs. O it was a leaden churchyard, but no doubt a golden ground to those young persons! I first saw them on a Saturday evening, and, perceiving from their occupation that Saturday evening was their trysting-time, I returned that evening se’nnight, and renewed the contemplation of them. They came there to shake the bits of matting which were spread in the church aisles55, and they afterwards rolled them up, he rolling his end, she rolling hers, until they met, and over the two once divided now united rolls — sweet emblem56! — gave and received a chaste57 salute58. It was so refreshing59 to find one of my faded churchyards blooming into flower thus, that I returned a second time, and a third, and ultimately this befell:— They had left the church door open, in their dusting and arranging. Walking in to look at the church, I became aware, by the dim light, of him in the pulpit, of her in the reading-desk, of him looking down, of her looking up, exchanging tender discourse60. Immediately both dived, and became as it were non-existent on this sphere. With an assumption of innocence61 I turned to leave the sacred edifice62, when an obese63 form stood in the portal, puffily demanding Joseph, or in default of Joseph, Celia. Taking this monster by the sleeve, and luring64 him forth65 on pretence66 of showing him whom he sought, I gave time for the emergence67 of Joseph and Celia, who presently came towards us in the churchyard, bending under dusty matting, a picture of thriving and unconscious industry. It would be superfluous68 to hint that I have ever since deemed this the proudest passage in my life.
But such instances, or any tokens of vitality69, are rare indeed in my City churchyards. A few sparrows occasionally try to raise a lively chirrup in their solitary70 tree — perhaps, as taking a different view of worms from that entertained by humanity — but they are flat and hoarse71 of voice, like the clerk, the organ, the bell, the clergyman, and all the rest of the Church-works when they are wound up for Sunday. Caged larks72, thrushes, or blackbirds, hanging in neighbouring courts, pour forth their strains passionately73, as scenting74 the tree, trying to break out, and see leaves again before they die, but their song is Willow75, Willow — of a churchyard cast. So little light lives inside the churches of my churchyards, when the two are co-existent, that it is often only by an accident and after long acquaintance that I discover their having stained glass in some odd window. The westering sun slants77 into the churchyard by some unwonted entry, a few prismatic tears drop on an old tombstone, and a window that I thought was only dirty, is for the moment all bejewelled. Then the light passes and the colours die. Though even then, if there be room enough for me to fall back so far as that I can gaze up to the top of the Church Tower, I see the rusty vane new burnished78, and seeming to look out with a joyful79 flash over the sea of smoke at the distant shore of country.
Blinking old men who are let out of workhouses by the hour, have a tendency to sit on bits of coping stone in these churchyards, leaning with both hands on their sticks and asthmatically gasping80. The more depressed81 class of beggars too, bring hither broken meats, and munch82. I am on nodding terms with a meditative83 turncock who lingers in one of them, and whom I suspect of a turn for poetry; the rather, as he looks out of temper when he gives the fire-plug a disparaging84 wrench85 with that large tuning-fork of his which would wear out the shoulder of his coat, but for a precautionary piece of inlaid leather. Fire-ladders, which I am satisfied nobody knows anything about, and the keys of which were lost in ancient times, moulder86 away in the larger churchyards, under eaves like wooden eyebrows87; and so removed are those corners from the haunts of men and boys, that once on a fifth of November I found a ‘Guy’ trusted to take care of himself there, while his proprietors88 had gone to dinner. Of the expression of his face I cannot report, because it was turned to the wall; but his shrugged89 shoulders and his ten extended fingers, appeared to denote that he had moralised in his little straw chair on the mystery of mortality until he gave it up as a bad job.
You do not come upon these churchyards violently; there are shapes of transition in the neighbourhood. An antiquated90 news shop, or barber’s shop, apparently91 bereft92 of customers in the earlier days of George the Third, would warn me to look out for one, if any discoveries in this respect were left for me to make. A very quiet court, in combination with an unaccountable dyer’s and scourer’s, would prepare me for a churchyard. An exceedingly retiring public-house, with a bagatelle-board shadily visible in a sawdusty parlour shaped like an omnibus, and with a shelf of punch-bowls in the bar, would apprise93 me that I stood near consecrated94 ground. A ‘Dairy,’ exhibiting in its modest window one very little milk-can and three eggs, would suggest to me the certainty of finding the poultry95 hard by, pecking at my forefathers96. I first inferred the vicinity of Saint Ghastly Grim, from a certain air of extra repose97 and gloom pervading98 a vast stack of warehouses99.
From the hush100 of these places, it is congenial to pass into the hushed resorts of business. Down the lanes I like to see the carts and waggons101 huddled102 together in repose, the cranes idle, and the warehouses shut. Pausing in the alleys103 behind the closed Banks of mighty104 Lombard-street, it gives one as good as a rich feeling to think of the broad counters with a rim16 along the edge, made for telling money out on, the scales for weighing precious metals, the ponderous105 ledgers106, and, above all, the bright copper107 shovels108 for shovelling110 gold. When I draw money, it never seems so much money as when it is shovelled111 at me out of a bright copper shovel109. I like to say, ‘In gold,’ and to see seven pounds musically pouring out of the shovel, like seventy; the Bank appearing to remark to me — I italicise APPEARING— ‘if you want more of this yellow earth, we keep it in barrows at your service.’ To think of the banker’s clerk with his deft112 finger turning the crisp edges of the Hundred-Pound Notes he has taken in a fat roll out of a drawer, is again to hear the rustling113 of that delicious south-cash wind. ‘How will you have it?’ I once heard this usual question asked at a Bank Counter of an elderly female, habited in mourning and steeped in simplicity114, who answered, open-eyed, crook-fingered, laughing with expectation, ‘Anyhow!’ Calling these things to mind as I stroll among the Banks, I wonder whether the other solitary Sunday man I pass, has designs upon the Banks. For the interest and mystery of the matter, I almost hope he may have, and that his confederate may be at this moment taking impressions of the keys of the iron closets in wax, and that a delightful115 robbery may be in course of transaction. About College-hill, Mark-lane, and so on towards the Tower, and Dockward, the deserted wine-merchants’ cellars are fine subjects for consideration; but the deserted money-cellars of the Bankers, and their plate-cellars, and their jewel-cellars, what subterranean116 regions of the Wonderful Lamp are these! And again: possibly some shoeless boy in rags, passed through this street yesterday, for whom it is reserved to be a Banker in the fulness of time, and to be surpassing rich. Such reverses have been, since the days of Whittington; and were, long before. I want to know whether the boy has any foreglittering of that glittering fortune now, when he treads these stones, hungry. Much as I also want to know whether the next man to be hanged at Newgate yonder, had any suspicion upon him that he was moving steadily117 towards that fate, when he talked so much about the last man who paid the same great debt at the same small Debtors’ Door.
Where are all the people who on busy working-days pervade118 these scenes? The locomotive banker’s clerk, who carries a black portfolio119 chained to him by a chain of steel, where is he? Does he go to bed with his chain on — to church with his chain on — or does he lay it by? And if he lays it by, what becomes of his portfolio when he is unchained for a holiday? The wastepaper baskets of these closed counting-houses would let me into many hints of business matters if I had the exploration of them; and what secrets of the heart should I discover on the ‘pads’ of the young clerks — the sheets of cartridge-paper and blotting-paper interposed between their writing and their desks! Pads are taken into confidence on the tenderest occasions, and oftentimes when I have made a business visit, and have sent in my name from the outer office, have I had it forced on my discursive120 notice that the officiating young gentleman has over and over again inscribed121 AMELIA, in ink of various dates, on corners of his pad. Indeed, the pad may be regarded as the legitimate122 modern successor of the old forest-tree: whereon these young knights123 (having no attainable124 forest nearer than Epping) engrave125 the names of their mistresses. After all, it is a more satisfactory process than carving126, and can be oftener repeated. So these courts in their Sunday rest are courts of Love Omnipotent127 (I rejoice to bethink myself), dry as they look. And here is Garraway’s, bolted and shuttered hard and fast! It is possible to imagine the man who cuts the sandwiches, on his back in a hayfield; it is possible to imagine his desk, like the desk of a clerk at church, without him; but imagination is unable to pursue the men who wait at Garraway’s all the week for the men who never come. When they are forcibly put out of Garraway’s on Saturday night — which they must be, for they never would go out of their own accord — where do they vanish until Monday morning? On the first Sunday that I ever strayed here, I expected to find them hovering128 about these lanes, like restless ghosts, and trying to peep into Garraway’s through chinks in the shutters129, if not endeavouring to turn the lock of the door with false keys, picks, and screw-drivers. But the wonder is, that they go clean away! And now I think of it, the wonder is, that every working-day pervader130 of these scenes goes clean away. The man who sells the dogs’ collars and the little toy coal-scuttles, feels under as great an obligation to go afar off, as Glyn and Co., or Smith, Payne, and Smith. There is an old monastery-crypt under Garraway’s (I have been in it among the port wine), and perhaps Garraway’s, taking pity on the mouldy men who wait in its public-room all their lives, gives them cool house-room down there over Sundays; but the catacombs of Paris would not be large enough to hold the rest of the missing. This characteristic of London City greatly helps its being the quaint76 place it is in the weekly pause of business, and greatly helps my Sunday sensation in it of being the Last Man. In my solitude131, the ticket-porters being all gone with the rest, I venture to breathe to the quiet bricks and stones my confidential132 wonderment why a ticket-porter, who never does any work with his hands, is bound to wear a white apron36, and why a great Ecclesiastical Dignitary, who never does any work with his hands either, is equally bound to wear a black one.
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1
deserted
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| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
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enjoyment
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| n.乐趣；享有；享用 | |
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retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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rusty
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| adj.生锈的；锈色的；荒废了的 | |
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illegible
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| adj.难以辨认的，字迹模糊的 | |
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withered
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| adj. 枯萎的，干瘪的，（人身体的部分器官）因病萎缩的或未发育良好的 动词wither的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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9
worthies
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| 应得某事物( worthy的名词复数 )； 值得做某事； 可尊敬的； 有（某人或事物）的典型特征 | |
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contagion
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| n.(通过接触的疾病)传染；蔓延 | |
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awry
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| adj.扭曲的，错的 | |
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dubiously
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| adv.可疑地，怀疑地 | |
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spouts
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| n.管口( spout的名词复数 )；（喷出的）水柱；（容器的）嘴；在困难中v.（指液体）喷出( spout的第三人称单数 )；滔滔不绝地讲；喋喋不休地说；喷水 | |
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encompassing
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| v.围绕( encompass的现在分词 )；包围；包含；包括 | |
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meditate
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| v.想，考虑，（尤指宗教上的）沉思，冥想 | |
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rim
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| n.(圆物的)边，轮缘；边界 | |
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touching
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| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
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shrieks
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| n.尖叫声( shriek的名词复数 )v.尖叫( shriek的第三人称单数 ) | |
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ferocious
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| adj.凶猛的，残暴的，极度的，十分强烈的 | |
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spiked
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| adj.有穗的；成锥形的；有尖顶的 | |
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ornamented
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| adj.花式字体的v.装饰，点缀，美化( ornament的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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skulls
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| 颅骨( skull的名词复数 )； 脑袋； 脑子； 脑瓜 | |
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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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spikes
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| n.穗( spike的名词复数 )；跑鞋；（防滑）鞋钉；尖状物v.加烈酒于( spike的第三人称单数 )；偷偷地给某人的饮料加入（更多）酒精（ 或药物）；把尖状物钉入；打乱某人的计划 | |
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impaled
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| 钉在尖桩上( impale的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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contemplated
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| adj. 预期的 动词contemplate的过去分词形式 | |
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drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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wink
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| n.眨眼，使眼色，瞬间；v.眨眼，使眼色，闪烁 | |
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blanched
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| v.使变白( blanch的过去式 )；使（植物）不见阳光而变白；酸洗（金属）使有光泽；用沸水烫（杏仁等）以便去皮 | |
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countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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wholesale
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| n.批发；adv.以批发方式；vt.批发，成批出售 | |
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lumber
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| n.木材，木料；v.以破旧东西堆满；伐木；笨重移动 | |
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undoubtedly
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| adv.确实地，无疑地 | |
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astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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beheld
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| v.看，注视( behold的过去式和过去分词 )；瞧；看呀；（叙述中用于引出某人意外的出现）哎哟 | |
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apron
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| n.围裙；工作裙 | |
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fathom
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| v.领悟，彻底了解 | |
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sufficiently
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| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
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descend
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| vt./vi.传下来，下来，下降 | |
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bonnet
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| n.无边女帽；童帽 | |
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obsolete
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| adj.已废弃的，过时的 | |
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mittens
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| 不分指手套 | |
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43
texture
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| n.(织物)质地；(材料)构造；结构；肌理 | |
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44
heed
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| v.注意，留意；n.注意，留心 | |
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45
meek
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| adj.温顺的，逆来顺受的 | |
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46
celestial
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| adj.天体的；天上的 | |
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47
likeness
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| n.相像，相似（之处） | |
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48
scanty
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| adj.缺乏的，仅有的，节省的，狭小的，不够的 | |
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49
cramped
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| a.狭窄的 | |
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50
vigour
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| （=vigor）n.智力，体力，精力 | |
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51
immortal
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| adj.不朽的；永生的，不死的；神的 | |
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52
graceful
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| adj.优美的，优雅的；得体的 | |
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53
incompetent
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| adj.无能力的，不能胜任的 | |
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54
mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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55
aisles
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| n. (席位间的)通道, 侧廊 | |
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56
emblem
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| n.象征，标志；徽章 | |
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57
chaste
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| adj.贞洁的；有道德的；善良的；简朴的 | |
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58
salute
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| vi.行礼，致意，问候，放礼炮；vt.向…致意，迎接，赞扬；n.招呼，敬礼，礼炮 | |
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59
refreshing
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| adj.使精神振作的，使人清爽的，使人喜欢的 | |
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60
discourse
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| n.论文，演说；谈话；话语；vi.讲述，著述 | |
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61
innocence
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| n.无罪；天真；无害 | |
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62
edifice
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| n.宏伟的建筑物(如宫殿，教室) | |
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63
obese
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| adj.过度肥胖的，肥大的 | |
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64
luring
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| 吸引，引诱（lure的现在分词形式） | |
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65
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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66
pretence
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| n.假装，作假；借口，口实；虚伪；虚饰 | |
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67
emergence
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| n.浮现，显现，出现，（植物）突出体 | |
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68
superfluous
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| adj.过多的，过剩的，多余的 | |
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69
vitality
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| n.活力，生命力，效力 | |
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70
solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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71
hoarse
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| adj.嘶哑的，沙哑的 | |
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72
larks
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| n.百灵科鸟（尤指云雀）( lark的名词复数 )；一大早就起床；鸡鸣即起；（因太费力而不想干时说）算了v.百灵科鸟（尤指云雀）( lark的第三人称单数 )；一大早就起床；鸡鸣即起；（因太费力而不想干时说）算了 | |
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73
passionately
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| ad.热烈地，激烈地 | |
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74
scenting
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| vt.闻到（scent的现在分词形式） | |
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75
willow
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| n.柳树 | |
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76
quaint
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| adj.古雅的，离奇有趣的，奇怪的 | |
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slants
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| （使）倾斜，歪斜( slant的第三人称单数 )； 有倾向性地编写或报道 | |
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78
burnished
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| adj.抛光的，光亮的v.擦亮（金属等），磨光( burnish的过去式和过去分词 )；被擦亮，磨光 | |
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79
joyful
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| adj.欢乐的，令人欢欣的 | |
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80
gasping
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| adj. 气喘的, 痉挛的 动词gasp的现在分词 | |
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depressed
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| adj.沮丧的，抑郁的，不景气的，萧条的 | |
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82
munch
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| v.用力嚼，大声咀嚼 | |
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meditative
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| adj.沉思的，冥想的 | |
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disparaging
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| adj.轻蔑的，毁谤的v.轻视( disparage的现在分词 )；贬低；批评；非难 | |
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85
wrench
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| v.猛拧；挣脱；使扭伤；n.扳手；痛苦，难受 | |
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86
moulder
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| v.腐朽，崩碎 | |
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87
eyebrows
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| 眉毛( eyebrow的名词复数 ) | |
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proprietors
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| n.所有人，业主( proprietor的名词复数 ) | |
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shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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90
antiquated
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| adj.陈旧的，过时的 | |
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apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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bereft
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| adj.被剥夺的 | |
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apprise
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| vt.通知，告知 | |
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94
consecrated
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| adj.神圣的，被视为神圣的v.把…奉为神圣，给…祝圣( consecrate的过去式和过去分词 )；奉献 | |
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poultry
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| n.家禽，禽肉 | |
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forefathers
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| n.祖先，先人；祖先，祖宗( forefather的名词复数 )；列祖列宗；前人 | |
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repose
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| v.(使)休息；n.安息 | |
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pervading
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| v.遍及，弥漫( pervade的现在分词 ) | |
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99
warehouses
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| 仓库，货栈( warehouse的名词复数 ) | |
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100
hush
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| int.嘘，别出声；n.沉默，静寂；v.使安静 | |
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101
waggons
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| 四轮的运货马车( waggon的名词复数 )； 铁路货车； 小手推车 | |
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102
huddled
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| 挤在一起（huddle的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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103
alleys
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| 胡同，小巷( alley的名词复数 )； 小径 | |
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104
mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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105
ponderous
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| adj.沉重的，笨重的，(文章)冗长的 | |
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106
ledgers
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| n.分类账( ledger的名词复数 ) | |
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107
copper
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| n.铜；铜币；铜器；adj.铜(制)的；(紫)铜色的 | |
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108
shovels
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| n.铲子( shovel的名词复数 )；锹；推土机、挖土机等的)铲；铲形部份v.铲子( shovel的第三人称单数 )；锹；推土机、挖土机等的)铲；铲形部份 | |
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109
shovel
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| n.铁锨，铲子，一铲之量；v.铲，铲出 | |
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110
shovelling
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| v.铲子( shovel的现在分词 )；锹；推土机、挖土机等的)铲；铲形部份 | |
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111
shovelled
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| v.铲子( shovel的过去式和过去分词 )；锹；推土机、挖土机等的)铲；铲形部份 | |
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112
deft
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| adj.灵巧的，熟练的（a deft hand 能手） | |
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113
rustling
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| n. 瑟瑟声，沙沙声 adj. 发沙沙声的 | |
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114
simplicity
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| n.简单，简易；朴素；直率，单纯 | |
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115
delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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116
subterranean
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| adj.地下的，地表下的 | |
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117
steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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118
pervade
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| v.弥漫，遍及，充满，渗透，漫延 | |
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119
portfolio
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| n.公事包；文件夹；大臣及部长职位 | |
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120
discursive
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| adj.离题的，无层次的 | |
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121
inscribed
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| v.写，刻( inscribe的过去式和过去分词 )；内接 | |
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122
legitimate
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| adj.合法的，合理的，合乎逻辑的；v.使合法 | |
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123
knights
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| 骑士； （中古时代的）武士( knight的名词复数 )； 骑士； 爵士； （国际象棋中）马 | |
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124
attainable
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| a.可达到的，可获得的 | |
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125
engrave
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| vt.（在...上）雕刻，使铭记，使牢记 | |
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126
carving
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| n.雕刻品，雕花 | |
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127
omnipotent
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| adj.全能的，万能的 | |
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128
hovering
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| 鸟( hover的现在分词 )； 靠近（某事物）； （人）徘徊； 犹豫 | |
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129
shutters
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| 百叶窗( shutter的名词复数 )； （照相机的）快门 | |
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130
pervader
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| n.遍及，弥漫(pervade的变形) | |
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131
solitude
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| n. 孤独; 独居,荒僻之地,幽静的地方 | |
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132
confidential
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| adj.秘（机）密的，表示信任的，担任机密工作的 | |
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