You look about in vain, however, for that old life of the theatre which once formed so great a part of Venetian gayety,—the visits from box to box, the gossiping between the acts, and the half-occult flirtations. The people in the boxes are few, the dressing8 not splendid, and the beauty is the blond, unfrequent beauty of the German aliens. Last winter being the fourth season the Italians had defied the temptation of the opera, some of the Venetian ladies yielded to it, but went plainly dressed, and sat far back in boxes of the third tier, and when they issued forth9 after the opera were veiled beyond recognition. The audience usually takes its enjoyment10 quietly; hissing11 now and then for silence in the house, and clapping hands for applause, without calling bravo,—an Italian custom which I have noted12 to be chiefly habitual13 with foreigners: with Germans, for instance; who spell it with a p and f.
I fancy that to find good Italian opera you must seek it somewhere out of Italy,—at London, or Paris, or New York,—though possibly it might be chanced upon at La Scala in Milan, or San Carlo in Naples. The cause of the decay of the musical art in Venice must be looked for among the events which seem to have doomed14 her to decay in every thing; certainly it cannot be discerned in any indifference15 of the people to music. The dimostrazione keeps the better class of citizens from the opera, but the passion for it still exists in every order; and God’s gift of beautiful voice cannot be smothered17 in the race by any Situation. You hear the airs of opera sung as commonly upon the streets in Venice as our own colored melodies at home; and the street-boy when he sings has an inborn18 sense of music and a power of execution which put to shame the cultivated tenuity of sound that issues from the northern mouth—
“That frozen, passive, palsied breathing-hole.”
In the days of the Fenice there was a school for the ballet at that theatre, but this last and least worthy19 part of dramatic art is now an imported element of the opera in Venice. No novices20 appear on her stages, and the musical conservatories21 of the place, which were once so famous, have long ceased to exist. The musical theatre was very popular in Venice as early as the middle of the seventeenth century; and the care of the state for the drama existed from the first. The government, which always piously22 forbade the representation of Mysteries, and, as the theatre advanced, even prohibited plays containing characters of the Old or New Testament23, began about the close of the century to protect and encourage the instruction of music in the different foundling hospitals and public refuges in the city. The young girls in these institutions were taught to play on instruments, and to sing,—at first for the alleviation24 of their own dull and solitary25 life, and afterward26 for the delight of the public. In the merry days that passed just before the fall of the Republic, the Latin oratorios27 which they performed in the churches attached to the hospitals were among the most fashionable diversions in Venice. The singers were instructed by the best masters of the time; and at the close of the last century, the conservatories of the Incurables28, the Foundlings, and the Mendicants were famous throughout Europe for their dramatic concerts, and for those pupils who found the transition from sacred to profane29 opera natural and easy.
With increasing knowledge of the language, I learned to enjoy best the unmusical theatre, and went oftener to the comedy than the opera. It is hardly by any chance that the Italians play ill, and I have seen excellent acting30 at the Venetian theatres, both in the modern Italian comedy, which is very rich and good, and in the elder plays of Goldoni—compositions deliciously racy when seen in Venice, where alone their admirable fidelity31 of drawing and coloring can be perfectly32 appreciated. The best comedy is usually given to the educated classes at the pretty Teatro Apollo, while a bloodier33 and louder drama is offered to the populace at Teatro Malibran, where on a Sunday night you may see the plebeian34 life of the city in one of its most entertaining and characteristic phases. The sparings of the whole week which have not been laid out for chances in the lottery35, are spent for this evening’s amusement; and in the vast pit you see, besides the families of comfortable artisans who can evidently afford it, a multitude of the ragged36 poor, whose presence, even at the low rate of eight or ten soldi 11 apiece, it is hard to account for. It is very peremptory37, this audience, in its likes and dislikes, and applauds and hisses38 with great vehemence39. It likes best the sanguinary local spectacular drama; it cheers and cheers again every allusion40 to Venice; and when the curtain rises on some well-known Venetian scene, it has out the scene-painter by name three times—which is all the police permits. The auditors41 wear their hats in the pit, but deny that privilege to the people in the boxes, and raise stormy and wrathful cries of cappello! till these uncover. Between acts, they indulge in excesses of water flavored with anise, and even go to the extent of candied nuts and fruits, which are hawked42 about the theatre, and sold for two soldi the stick,—with the tooth-pick on which they are spitted thrown into the bargain.
The Malibran Theatre is well attended on Sunday night, but the one entertainment which never fails of drawing and delighting full houses is the theatre of the puppets, or the Marionette43, and thither44 I like best to go. The Marionette prevail with me, for I find in the performances of these puppets, no new condition demanded of the spectator, but rather a frank admission of unreality that makes every shadow of verisimilitude delightful45, and gives a marvelous relish46 to the immemorial effects and traditionary tricks of the stage.
The little theatre of the puppets is at the corner of a narrow street opening from the Calle del Ridotto, and is of the tiniest dimensions and simplest appointments. There are no boxes—the whole theatre is scarcely larger than a stage-box—and you pay ten soldi to go into the pit, where you are much more comfortable than the aristocrats47 who have paid fifteen for places in the dress-circle above. The stage is very small, and the scenery a kind of coarse miniature painting. But it is very complete, and every thing is contrived49 to give relief to the puppets and to produce an illusion of magnitude in their figures. They are very artlessly introduced, and are maneuvered50, according to the exigencies51 of the scene, by means of cords running from their heads, arms, and legs to the top of the stage. To the management of the cords they owe all the vehemence of their passions and the grace of their oratory52, not to mention a certain gliding53, ungradual locomotion54, altogether spectral55.
The drama of the Marionette is of a more elevated and ambitious tone than that of the Burattini, which exhibit their vulgar loves and coarse assassinations56 in little punch-shows on the Riva, and in the larger squares; but the standard characters are nearly the same with both, and are all descended57 from the commedia a braccio 12 which flourished on the Italian stage before the time of Goldoni. And I am very far from disparaging58 the Burattini, which have great and peculiar59 merits, not the least of which is the art of drawing the most delighted, dirty, and picturesque61 audiences. Like most of the Marionette, they converse62 vicariously in the Venetian dialect, and have such a rapidity of utterance63 that it is difficult to follow them. I only remember to have made out one of their comedies,—a play in which an ingenious lover procured64 his rich and successful rival to be arrested for lunacy, and married the disputed young person while the other was raging in the mad-house. This play is performed to enthusiastic audiences; but for the most part the favorite drama of the Burattini appears to be a sardonic65 farce66, in which the chief character—a puppet ten inches high, with a fixed67 and staring expression of Mephistophelean good-nature and wickedness—deludes other and weak-minded puppets into trusting him, and then beats them with a club upon the back of the head until they die. The murders of this infamous68 creature, which are always executed in a spirit of jocose69 sang-froid, and accompanied by humorous remarks, are received with the keenest relish by the spectators and, indeed, the action is every way worthy of applause. The dramatic spirit of the Italian race seems to communicate itself to the puppets, and they perform their parts with a fidelity to theatrical70 unnaturalness71 which is wonderful. I have witnessed death agonies on these little stages which the great American tragedian himself (whoever he may happen to be) could not surpass in degree of energy. And then the Burattini deserve the greater credit because they are agitated73 by the legs from below the scene, and not managed by cords from above, as at the Marionette Theatre. Their audiences, as I said, are always interesting, and comprise: first, boys ragged and dirty in inverse74 ratio to their size; then weak little girls, supporting immense weight of babies; then Austrian soldiers, with long coats and short pipes; lumbering75 Dalmat sailors; a transient Greek or Turk; Venetian loafers, pale-faced, statuesque, with the drapery of their cloaks thrown over their shoulders; young women, with bare heads of thick black hair; old women, all fluff and fangs76; wooden-shod peasants, with hooded77 cloaks of coarse brown; then boys—and boys. They all enjoy the spectacle with approval, and take the drama au grand sérieux, uttering none of the gibes79 which sometimes attend efforts to please in our own country. Even when the hat, or other instrument of extortion, is passed round, and they give nothing, and when the manager, in an excess of fury and disappointment, calls out, “Ah! sons of dogs! I play no more to you!” and closes the theatre, they quietly and unresentfully disperse80. Though, indeed, fioi de cani means no great reproach in Venetian parlance81; and parents of the lower classes caressingly82 address their children in these terms. Whereas to call one Figure of a Pig, is to wreak83 upon him the deadliest insult which can be put into words.
In the commedia a braccio, before mentioned as the inheritance of the Marionette, the dramatist furnished merely the plot, and the outline of the action; the players filled in the character and dialogue. With any people less quick-witted than the Italians, this sort of comedy must have been insufferable, but it formed the delight of that people till the middle of the last century, and even after Goldoni went to Paris he furnished his Italian players with the commedia a braccio. I have heard some very passable gags at the Marionette, but the real commedia a braccio no longer exists, and its familiar and invariable characters perform written plays.
Facanapa is a modern addition to the old stock of dramatis personae, and he is now without doubt the popular favorite in Venice. He is always, like Pantalon, a Venetian; but whereas the latter is always a merchant, Facanapa is any thing that the exigency84 of the play demands. He is a dwarf85, even among puppets, and his dress invariably consists of black knee-breeches and white stockings, a very long, full-skirted black coat, and a three-cornered hat. His individual traits are displayed in all his characters, and he is ever a coward, a boaster, and a liar60; a glutton86 and avaricious87, but withal of an agreeable bonhomie that wins the heart. To tell the truth, I care little for the plays in which he has no part and I have learned to think a certain trick of his—lifting his leg rigidly88 to a horizontal line, by way of emphasis, and saying, “Capisse la?” or “Sa la?” (You understand? You know?)—one of the finest things in the world.
In nearly all of Goldoni’s Venetian comedies, and in many which he wrote in Italian, appear the standard associates of Facanapa,—Arlecchino, il Dottore. Pantalon dei Bisognosi, and Brighella. The reader is at first puzzled by their constant recurrence89, but never weary of Goldoni’s witty90 management of them. They are the chief persons of the obsolete91 commedia a braccio, and have their nationality and peculiarities92 marked by immemorial attribution. Pantalon is a Venetian merchant, rich, and commonly the indulgent father of a wilful93 daughter or dissolute son, figuring also sometimes as the childless uncle of large fortune. The second old man is il Dottore, who is a Bolognese, and a doctor of the University. Brighella and Arlecchino are both of Bergamo. The one is a sharp and roguish servant, busy-body, and rascal94; the other is dull and foolish, and always masked and dressed in motley—a gibe78 at the poverty of the Bergamasks among whom, moreover, the extremes of stupidity and cunning are most usually found, according to the popular notion in Italy.
The plays of the Marionette are written expressly for them, and are much shorter than the standard drama as it is known to us. They embrace, however, a wide range of subjects, from lofty melodrama95 to broad farce, as you may see by looking at the advertisements in the Venetian Gazettes for any week past, where perhaps you shall find the plays performed to have been: The Ninety-nine Misfortunes of Facanapa; Arlecchino, the Sleeping King; Facanapa as Soldier in Catalonia; The Capture of Smyrna, with Facanapa and Arlecchino Slaves in Smyrna (this play being repeated several nights); and, Arlecchino and Facanapa Hunting an Ass16. If you can fancy people going night after night to this puppet-drama, and enjoying it with the keenest appetite, you will not only do something toward realizing to yourself the easily-pleased Italian nature, but you will also suppose great excellence96 in the theatrical management. For my own part, I find few things in life equal to the Marionette. I am never tired of their bewitching absurdity97, their inevitable98 defects, their irresistible99 touches of verisimilitude. At their theatre I have seen the relenting parent (Pantalon) twitchingly embrace his erring100 son, while Arlecchino, as the large-hearted cobbler who has paid the house-rent of the erring son when the prodigal101 was about to be cast into the street, looked on and rubbed his hands with amiable102 satisfaction and the conventional delight in benefaction which we all know. I have witnessed the base terrors of Facanapa at an apparition103, and I have beheld104 the keen spiritual agonies of the Emperor Nicholas on hearing of the fall of Sebastopol. Not many passages of real life have affected105 me as deeply as the atrocious behavior of the brutal106 baronial brother-in-law, when he responds to the expostulations of his friend the Knight108 of Malta,—a puppet of shaky and vacillating presence, but a soul of steel and rock:
“Why, O baron107, detain this unhappy lady in thy dungeons109? Remember, she is thy brother’s wife. Remember thine own honor. Think on the sacred name of virtue110.” (Wrigglingly, and with a set countenance111 and gesticulations toward the pit.)
To which the ferocious112 baron makes answer with a sneering113 laugh, “Honor?—I know it not! Virtue?—I detest114 it!” and attempting to pass the knight, in order to inflict115 fresh indignities116 upon his sister-in-law, he yields to the natural infirmities of rags and pasteboard, and topples against him.
Facanapa, also, in his great scene of the Haunted Poet, is tremendous. You discover him in bed, too much visited by the Muse1 to sleep, and reading his manuscripts aloud to himself, after the manner of poets when they cannot find other listeners. He is alarmed by various ghostly noises in the house, and is often obliged to get up and examine the dark corners of the room, and to look under the bed. When at last the spectral head appears at the foot-board, Facanapa vanishes with a miserable117 cry under the bed-clothes, and the scene closes. Intrinsically the scene is not much, but this great actor throws into it a life, a spirit, a drollery118 wholly irresistible.
The ballet at the Marionette is a triumph of choreographic art, and is extremely funny. The prima ballerina has all the difficult grace and far-fetched arts of the prima ballerina of flesh and blood; and when the enthusiastic audience calls her back after the scene, she is humanly delighted, and acknowledges the compliment with lifelike empressement. I have no doubt the corps119 de ballet have their private jealousies120 and bickerings, when quietly laid away in boxes, and deprived of all positive power by the removal of the cords which agitate72 their arms and legs. The puppets are great in pirouette and pas seul; but I think the strictly121 dramatic part of such spectacular ballets, as The Fall of Carthage, is their strong point.
The people who witness their performances are of all ages and conditions—I remember to have once seen a Russian princess and some German countesses in the pit—but the greater number of spectators are young men of the middle classes, pretty shop-girls, and artisans and their wives and children. The little theatre is a kind of trysting-place for lovers in humble122 life, and there is a great deal of amusing drama going on between the acts, in which the invariable Beppo and Nina of the Venetian populace take the place of the invariable Arlecchino and Facanapa of the stage. I one day discovered a letter at the bottom of the Canal of the Giudecca, to which watery123 resting-place some recreant124, addressed as “Caro Antonio,” had consigned125 it; and from this letter I came to know certainly of at least one love affair at the Marionette. “Caro Antonio” was humbly126 besought127, “if his heart still felt the force of love,” to meet the writer (who softly reproached him with neglect) at the Marionette the night of date, at six o’clock; and I would not like to believe he could resist so tender a prayer, though perhaps it fell out so. I fished up through the lucent water this despairing little epistle,—it was full of womanly sweetness and bad spelling,—and dried away its briny128 tears on the blade of my oar48. If ever I thought to keep it, with some vague purpose of offering it to any particularly anxious-looking Nina at the Marionette as to the probable writer—its unaccountable loss spared me the delicate office. Still, however, when I go to see the puppets, it is with an interest divided between the drolleries of Facanapa, and the sad presence of expectation somewhere among the groups of dark-eyed girls there, who wear such immense hoops129 under such greasy130 dresses, who part their hair at one side, and call each other “Ciò!” Where art thou, O fickle131 and cruel, yet ever dear Antonio? All unconscious, I think,—gallantly posed against the wall, thy slouch hat brought forward to the point of thy long cigar, the arms of thy velvet132 jacket folded on thy breast, and thy ear-rings softly twinkling in the light.
点击收听单词发音
1 muse | |
n.缪斯(希腊神话中的女神),创作灵感 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
2 demonstration | |
n.表明,示范,论证,示威 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
3 drawn | |
v.拖,拉,拔出;adj.憔悴的,紧张的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
4 intensified | |
v.(使)增强, (使)加剧( intensify的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
5 formerly | |
adv.从前,以前 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
6 outlay | |
n.费用,经费,支出;v.花费 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
7 garrison | |
n.卫戍部队;驻地,卫戍区;vt.派(兵)驻防 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
8 dressing | |
n.(食物)调料;包扎伤口的用品,敷料 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
9 forth | |
adv.向前;向外,往外 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
10 enjoyment | |
n.乐趣;享有;享用 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
11 hissing | |
n. 发嘶嘶声, 蔑视 动词hiss的现在分词形式 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
12 noted | |
adj.著名的,知名的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
13 habitual | |
adj.习惯性的;通常的,惯常的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
14 doomed | |
命定的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
15 indifference | |
n.不感兴趣,不关心,冷淡,不在乎 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
16 ass | |
n.驴;傻瓜,蠢笨的人 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
17 smothered | |
(使)窒息, (使)透不过气( smother的过去式和过去分词 ); 覆盖; 忍住; 抑制 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
18 inborn | |
adj.天生的,生来的,先天的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
19 worthy | |
adj.(of)值得的,配得上的;有价值的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
20 novices | |
n.新手( novice的名词复数 );初学修士(或修女);(修会等的)初学生;尚未赢过大赛的赛马 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
21 conservatories | |
n.(培植植物的)温室,暖房( conservatory的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
22 piously | |
adv.虔诚地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
23 testament | |
n.遗嘱;证明 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
24 alleviation | |
n. 减轻,缓和,解痛物 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
25 solitary | |
adj.孤独的,独立的,荒凉的;n.隐士 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
26 afterward | |
adv.后来;以后 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
27 oratorios | |
n.(以宗教为主题的)清唱剧,神剧( oratorio的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
28 incurables | |
无法治愈,不可救药( incurable的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
29 profane | |
adj.亵神的,亵渎的;vt.亵渎,玷污 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
30 acting | |
n.演戏,行为,假装;adj.代理的,临时的,演出用的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
31 fidelity | |
n.忠诚,忠实;精确 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
32 perfectly | |
adv.完美地,无可非议地,彻底地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
33 bloodier | |
adj.血污的( bloody的比较级 );流血的;屠杀的;残忍的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
34 plebeian | |
adj.粗俗的;平民的;n.平民;庶民 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
35 lottery | |
n.抽彩;碰运气的事,难于算计的事 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
36 ragged | |
adj.衣衫褴褛的,粗糙的,刺耳的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
37 peremptory | |
adj.紧急的,专横的,断然的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
38 hisses | |
嘶嘶声( hiss的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
39 vehemence | |
n.热切;激烈;愤怒 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
40 allusion | |
n.暗示,间接提示 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
41 auditors | |
n.审计员,稽核员( auditor的名词复数 );(大学课程的)旁听生 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
42 hawked | |
通过叫卖主动兜售(hawk的过去式与过去分词形式) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
43 marionette | |
n.木偶 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
44 thither | |
adv.向那里;adj.在那边的,对岸的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
45 delightful | |
adj.令人高兴的,使人快乐的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
46 relish | |
n.滋味,享受,爱好,调味品;vt.加调味料,享受,品味;vi.有滋味 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
47 aristocrats | |
n.贵族( aristocrat的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
48 oar | |
n.桨,橹,划手;v.划行 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
49 contrived | |
adj.不自然的,做作的;虚构的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
50 maneuvered | |
v.移动,用策略( maneuver的过去式和过去分词 );操纵 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
51 exigencies | |
n.急切需要 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
52 oratory | |
n.演讲术;词藻华丽的言辞 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
53 gliding | |
v. 滑翔 adj. 滑动的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
54 locomotion | |
n.运动,移动 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
55 spectral | |
adj.幽灵的,鬼魂的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
56 assassinations | |
n.暗杀( assassination的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
57 descended | |
a.为...后裔的,出身于...的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
58 disparaging | |
adj.轻蔑的,毁谤的v.轻视( disparage的现在分词 );贬低;批评;非难 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
59 peculiar | |
adj.古怪的,异常的;特殊的,特有的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
60 liar | |
n.说谎的人 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
61 picturesque | |
adj.美丽如画的,(语言)生动的,绘声绘色的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
62 converse | |
vi.谈话,谈天,闲聊;adv.相反的,相反 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
63 utterance | |
n.用言语表达,话语,言语 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
64 procured | |
v.(努力)取得, (设法)获得( procure的过去式和过去分词 );拉皮条 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
65 sardonic | |
adj.嘲笑的,冷笑的,讥讽的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
66 farce | |
n.闹剧,笑剧,滑稽戏;胡闹 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
67 fixed | |
adj.固定的,不变的,准备好的;(计算机)固定的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
68 infamous | |
adj.声名狼藉的,臭名昭著的,邪恶的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
69 jocose | |
adj.开玩笑的,滑稽的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
70 theatrical | |
adj.剧场的,演戏的;做戏似的,做作的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
71 unnaturalness | |
参考例句: |
|
|
72 agitate | |
vi.(for,against)煽动,鼓动;vt.搅动 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
73 agitated | |
adj.被鼓动的,不安的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
74 inverse | |
adj.相反的,倒转的,反转的;n.相反之物;v.倒转 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
75 lumbering | |
n.采伐林木 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
76 fangs | |
n.(尤指狗和狼的)长而尖的牙( fang的名词复数 );(蛇的)毒牙;罐座 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
77 hooded | |
adj.戴头巾的;有罩盖的;颈部因肋骨运动而膨胀的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
78 gibe | |
n.讥笑;嘲弄 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
79 gibes | |
vi.嘲笑,嘲弄(gibe的第三人称单数形式) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
80 disperse | |
vi.使分散;使消失;vt.分散;驱散 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
81 parlance | |
n.说法;语调 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
82 caressingly | |
爱抚地,亲切地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
83 wreak | |
v.发泄;报复 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
84 exigency | |
n.紧急;迫切需要 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
85 dwarf | |
n.矮子,侏儒,矮小的动植物;vt.使…矮小 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
86 glutton | |
n.贪食者,好食者 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
87 avaricious | |
adj.贪婪的,贪心的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
88 rigidly | |
adv.刻板地,僵化地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
89 recurrence | |
n.复发,反复,重现 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
90 witty | |
adj.机智的,风趣的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
91 obsolete | |
adj.已废弃的,过时的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
92 peculiarities | |
n. 特质, 特性, 怪癖, 古怪 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
93 wilful | |
adj.任性的,故意的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
94 rascal | |
n.流氓;不诚实的人 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
95 melodrama | |
n.音乐剧;情节剧 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
96 excellence | |
n.优秀,杰出,(pl.)优点,美德 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
97 absurdity | |
n.荒谬,愚蠢;谬论 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
98 inevitable | |
adj.不可避免的,必然发生的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
99 irresistible | |
adj.非常诱人的,无法拒绝的,无法抗拒的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
100 erring | |
做错事的,错误的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
101 prodigal | |
adj.浪费的,挥霍的,放荡的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
102 amiable | |
adj.和蔼可亲的,友善的,亲切的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
103 apparition | |
n.幽灵,神奇的现象 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
104 beheld | |
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 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
105 affected | |
adj.不自然的,假装的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
106 brutal | |
adj.残忍的,野蛮的,不讲理的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
107 baron | |
n.男爵;(商业界等)巨头,大王 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
108 knight | |
n.骑士,武士;爵士 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
109 dungeons | |
n.地牢( dungeon的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
110 virtue | |
n.德行,美德;贞操;优点;功效,效力 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
111 countenance | |
n.脸色,面容;面部表情;vt.支持,赞同 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
112 ferocious | |
adj.凶猛的,残暴的,极度的,十分强烈的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
113 sneering | |
嘲笑的,轻蔑的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
114 detest | |
vt.痛恨,憎恶 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
115 inflict | |
vt.(on)把…强加给,使遭受,使承担 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
116 indignities | |
n.侮辱,轻蔑( indignity的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
117 miserable | |
adj.悲惨的,痛苦的;可怜的,糟糕的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
118 drollery | |
n.开玩笑,说笑话;滑稽可笑的图画(或故事、小戏等) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
119 corps | |
n.(通信等兵种的)部队;(同类作的)一组 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
120 jealousies | |
n.妒忌( jealousy的名词复数 );妒羡 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
121 strictly | |
adv.严厉地,严格地;严密地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
122 humble | |
adj.谦卑的,恭顺的;地位低下的;v.降低,贬低 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
123 watery | |
adj.有水的,水汪汪的;湿的,湿润的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
124 recreant | |
n.懦夫;adj.胆怯的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
125 consigned | |
v.把…置于(令人不快的境地)( consign的过去式和过去分词 );把…托付给;把…托人代售;丟弃 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
126 humbly | |
adv. 恭顺地,谦卑地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
127 besought | |
v.恳求,乞求(某事物)( beseech的过去式和过去分词 );(beseech的过去式与过去分词) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
128 briny | |
adj.盐水的;很咸的;n.海洋 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
129 hoops | |
n.箍( hoop的名词复数 );(篮球)篮圈;(旧时儿童玩的)大环子;(两端埋在地里的)小铁弓 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
130 greasy | |
adj. 多脂的,油脂的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
131 fickle | |
adj.(爱情或友谊上)易变的,不坚定的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
132 velvet | |
n.丝绒,天鹅绒;adj.丝绒制的,柔软的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
欢迎访问英文小说网 |