After passing Cahors, the party branched away from the main road, and leaving the river to the north of them, followed a smaller track which wound over a vast and desolate1 plain. This path led them amid marshes2 and woods, until it brought them out into a glade3 with a broad stream swirling4 swiftly down the centre of it. Through this the horses splashed their way, and on the farther shore Sir Nigel announced to them that they were now within the borders of the land of France. For some miles they still followed the same lonely track, which led them through a dense6 wood, and then widening out, curved down to an open rolling country, such as they had traversed between Aiguillon and Cahors.
If it were grim and desolate upon the English border, however, what can describe the hideous8 barrenness of this ten times harried9 tract10 of France? The whole face of the country was scarred and disfigured, mottled over with the black blotches11 of burned farm-steadings, and the gray, gaunt gable-ends of what had been chateaux. Broken fences, crumbling13 walls, vineyards littered with stones, the shattered arches of bridges—look where you might, the signs of ruin and rapine met the eye. Here and there only, on the farthest sky-line, the gnarled turrets14 of a castle, or the graceful15 pinnacles16 of church or of monastery17 showed where the forces of the sword or of the spirit had preserved some small islet of security in this universal flood of misery18. Moodily19 and in silence the little party rode along the narrow and irregular track, their hearts weighed down by this far-stretching land of despair. It was indeed a stricken and a blighted20 country, and a man might have ridden from Auvergne in the north to the marches of Foix, nor ever seen a smiling village or a thriving homestead.
From time to time as they advanced they saw strange lean figures scraping and scratching amid the weeds and thistles, who, on sight of the band of horsemen, threw up their arms and dived in among the brushwood, as shy and as swift as wild animals. More than once, however, they came on families by the wayside, who were too weak from hunger and disease to fly, so that they could but sit like hares on a tussock, with panting chests and terror in their eyes. So gaunt were these poor folk, so worn and spent—with bent21 and knotted frames, and sullen22, hopeless, mutinous23 faces—that it made the young Englishman heart-sick to look upon them. Indeed, it seemed as though all hope and light had gone so far from them that it was not to be brought back; for when Sir Nigel threw down a handful of silver among them there came no softening24 of their lined faces, but they clutched greedily at the coins, peering questioningly at him, and champing with their animal jaws25. Here and there amid the brushwood the travellers saw the rude bundle of sticks which served them as a home—more like a fowl's nest than the dwelling-place of man. Yet why should they build and strive, when the first adventurer who passed would set torch to their thatch27, and when their own feudal28 lord would wring29 from them with blows and curses the last fruits of their toil30? They sat at the lowest depth of human misery, and hugged a bitter comfort to their souls as they realized that they could go no lower. Yet they had still the human gift of speech, and would take council among themselves in their brushwood hovels, glaring with bleared eyes and pointing with thin fingers at the great widespread chateaux which ate like a cancer into the life of the country-side. When such men, who are beyond hope and fear, begin in their dim minds to see the source of their woes31, it may be an evil time for those who have wronged them. The weak man becomes strong when he has nothing, for then only can he feel the wild, mad thrill of despair. High and strong the chateaux, lowly and weak the brushwood hut; but God help the seigneur and his lady when the men of the brushwood set their hands to the work of revenge!
Through such country did the party ride for eight or it might be nine miles, until the sun began to slope down in the west and their shadows to stream down the road in front of them. Wary32 and careful they must be, with watchful33 eyes to the right and the left, for this was no man's land, and their only passports were those which hung from their belts. Frenchmen and Englishmen, Gascon and Provencal, Brabanter, Tardvenu, Scorcher, Flayer34, and Free Companion, wandered and struggled over the whole of this accursed district. So bare and cheerless was the outlook, and so few and poor the dwellings35, that Sir Nigel began to have fears as to whether he might find food and quarters for his little troop. It was a relief to him, therefore, when their narrow track opened out upon a larger road, and they saw some little way down it a square white house with a great bunch of holly36 hung out at the end of a stick from one of the upper windows.
“By St. Paul!” said he, “I am right glad; for I had feared that we might have neither provant nor herbergage. Ride on, Alleyne, and tell this inn-keeper that an English knight37 with his party will lodge38 with him this night.”
Alleyne set spurs to his horse and reached the inn door a long bow-shot before his companions. Neither varlet nor ostler could be seen, so he pushed open the door and called loudly for the landlord. Three times he shouted, but, receiving no reply, he opened an inner door and advanced into the chief guest-room of the hostel39.
A very cheerful wood-fire was sputtering40 and cracking in an open grate at the further end of the apartment. At one side of this fire, in a high-backed oak chair, sat a lady, her face turned towards the door. The firelight played over her features, and Alleyne thought that he had never seen such queenly power, such dignity and strength, upon a woman's face. She might have been five-and-thirty years of age, with aquiline41 nose, firm yet sensitive mouth, dark curving brows, and deep-set eyes which shone and sparkled with a shifting brilliancy. Beautiful as she was, it was not her beauty which impressed itself upon the beholder42; it was her strength, her power, the sense of wisdom which hung over the broad white brow, the decision which lay in the square jaw26 and delicately moulded chin. A chaplet of pearls sparkled amid her black hair, with a gauze of silver network flowing back from it over her shoulders; a black mantle43 was swathed round her, and she leaned back in her chair as one who is fresh from a journey.
In the opposite corner there sat a very burly and broad-shouldered man, clad in a black jerkin trimmed with sable44, with a black velvet45 cap with curling white feather cocked upon the side of his head. A flask46 of red wine stood at his elbow, and he seemed to be very much at his ease, for his feet were stuck up on a stool, and between his thighs47 he held a dish full of nuts. These he cracked between his strong white teeth and chewed in a leisurely48 way, casting the shells into the blaze. As Alleyne gazed in at him he turned his face half round and cocked an eye at him over his shoulder. It seemed to the young Englishman that he had never seen so hideous a face, for the eyes were of the lightest green, the nose was broken and driven inwards, while the whole countenance49 was seared and puckered50 with wounds. The voice, too, when he spoke51, was as deep and as fierce as the growl52 of a beast of prey53.
“Young man,” said he, “I know not who you may be, and I am not much inclined to bestir myself, but if it were not that I am bent upon taking my ease, I swear, by the sword of Joshua! that I would lay my dog-whip across your shoulders for daring to fill the air with these discordant54 bellowings.”
Taken aback at this ungentle speech, and scarce knowing how to answer it fitly in the presence of the lady, Alleyne stood with his hand upon the handle of the door, while Sir Nigel and his companions dismounted. At the sound of these fresh voices, and of the tongue in which they spoke, the stranger crashed his dish of nuts down upon the floor, and began himself to call for the landlord until the whole house re-echoed with his roarings. With an ashen55 face the white-aproned host came running at his call, his hands shaking and his very hair bristling56 with apprehension57. “For the sake of God, sirs,” he whispered as he passed, “speak him fair and do not rouse him! For the love of the Virgin58, be mild with him!”
“Who is this, then?” asked Sir Nigel.
Alleyne was about to explain, when a fresh roar from the stranger interrupted him.
“Thou villain59 inn-keeper,” he shouted, “did I not ask you when I brought my lady here whether your inn was clean?”
“You did, sire.”
“Did I not very particularly ask you whether there were any vermin in it?”
“You did, sire.”
“And you answered me?”
“That there were not, sire.”
“And yet ere I have been here an hour I find Englishmen crawling about within it. Where are we to be free from this pestilent race? Can a Frenchman upon French land not sit down in a French auberge without having his ears pained by the clack of their hideous talk? Send them packing, inn-keeper, or it may be the worse for them and for you.”
“I will, sire, I will!” cried the frightened host, and bustled60 from the room, while the soft, soothing61 voice of the woman was heard remonstrating62 with her furious companion.
“Indeed, gentlemen, you had best go,” said mine host. “It is but six miles to Villefranche, where there are very good quarters at the sign of the 'Lion Rouge63.'”
“Nay,” answered Sir Nigel, “I cannot go until I have seen more of this person, for he appears to be a man from whom much is to be hoped. What is his name and title?”
“It is not for my lips to name it unless by his desire. But I beg and pray you, gentlemen, that you will go from my house, for I know not what may come of it if his rage should gain the mastery of him.”
“By Saint Paul!” lisped Sir Nigel, “this is certainly a man whom it is worth journeying far to know. Go tell him that a humble64 knight of England would make his further honorable acquaintance, not from any presumption65, pride, or ill-will, but for the advancement66 of chivalry67 and the glory of our ladies. Give him greeting from Sir Nigel Loring, and say that the glove which I bear in my cap belongs to the most peerless and lovely of her sex, whom I am now ready to uphold against any lady whose claim he might be desirous of advancing.”
The landlord was hesitating whether to carry this message or no, when the door of the inner room was flung open, and the stranger bounded out like a panther from its den7, his hair bristling and his deformed68 face convulsed with anger.
“Still here!” he snarled69. “Dogs of England, must ye be lashed5 hence? Tiphaine, my sword!” He turned to seize his weapon, but as he did so his gaze fell upon the blazonry of sir Nigel's shield, and he stood staring, while the fire in his strange green eyes softened70 into a sly and humorous twinkle.
“Mort Dieu!” cried he, “it is my little swordsman of Bordeaux. I should remember that coat-armor, seeing that it is but three days since I looked upon it in the lists by Garonne. Ah! Sir Nigel, Sir Nigel! you owe me a return for this,” and he touched his right arm, which was girt round just under the shoulder with a silken kerchief.
But the surprise of the stranger at the sight of Sir Nigel was as nothing compared with the astonishment71 and the delight which shone upon the face of the knight of Hampshire as he looked upon the strange face of the Frenchman. Twice he opened his mouth and twice he peered again, as though to assure himself that his eyes had not played him a trick.
“Bertrand!” he gasped72 at last. “Bertrand du Guesclin!”
“By Saint Ives!” shouted the French soldier, with a hoarse73 roar of laughter, “it is well that I should ride with my vizor down, for he that has once seen my face does not need to be told my name. It is indeed I, Sir Nigel, and here is my hand! I give you my word that there are but three Englishmen in this world whom I would touch save with the sharp edge of the sword: the prince is one, Chandos the second, and you the third; for I have heard much that is good of you.”
“I am growing aged74, and am somewhat spent in the wars,” quoth Sir Nigel; “but I can lay by my sword now with an easy mind, for I can say that I have crossed swords with him who hath the bravest heart and the strongest arm of all this great kingdom of France. I have longed for it, I have dreamed of it, and now I can scarce bring my mind to understand that this great honor hath indeed been mine.”
“By the Virgin of Rennes! you have given me cause to be very certain of it,” said Du Guesclin, with a gleam of his broad white teeth.
“And perhaps, most honored sir, it would please you to continue the debate. Perhaps you would condescend75 to go farther into the matter. God He knows that I am unworthy of such honor, yet I can show my four-and-sixty quarterings, and I have been present at some bickerings and scufflings during these twenty years.”
“Your fame is very well known to me, and I shall ask my lady to enter your name upon my tablets,” said Sir Bertrand. “There are many who wish to advance themselves, and who bide77 their turn, for I refuse no man who comes on such an errand. At present it may not be, for mine arm is stiff from this small touch, and I would fain do you full honor when we cross swords again. Come in with me, and let your squires78 come also, that my sweet spouse79, the Lady Tiphaine, may say that she hath seen so famed and gentle a knight.”
Into the chamber80 they went in all peace and concord81, where the Lady Tiphaine sat like queen on throne for each in turn to be presented to her. Sooth to say, the stout82 heart of Sir Nigel, which cared little for the wrath83 of her lion-like spouse, was somewhat shaken by the calm, cold face of this stately dame84, for twenty years of camp-life had left him more at ease in the lists than in a lady's boudoir. He bethought him, too, as he looked at her set lips and deep-set questioning eyes, that he had heard strange tales of this same Lady Tiphaine du Guesclin. Was it not she who was said to lay hands upon the sick and raise them from their couches when the leeches85 had spent their last nostrums86? Had she not forecast the future, and were there not times when in the loneliness of her chamber she was heard to hold converse87 with some being upon whom mortal eye never rested—some dark familiar who passed where doors were barred and windows high? Sir Nigel sunk his eye and marked a cross on the side of his leg as he greeted this dangerous dame, and yet ere five minutes had passed he was hers, and not he only but his two young squires as well. The mind had gone out of them, and they could but look at this woman and listen to the words which fell from her lips—words which thrilled through their nerves and stirred their souls like the battle-call of a bugle88.
Often in peaceful after-days was Alleyne to think of that scene of the wayside inn of Auvergne. The shadows of evening had fallen, and the corners of the long, low, wood-panelled room were draped in darkness. The sputtering wood fire threw out a circle of red flickering89 light which played over the little group of wayfarers90, and showed up every line and shadow upon their faces. Sir Nigel sat with elbows upon knees, and chin upon hands, his patch still covering one eye, but his other shining like a star, while the ruddy light gleamed upon his smooth white head. Ford91 was seated at his left, his lips parted, his eyes staring, and a fleck92 of deep color on either cheek, his limbs all rigid93 as one who fears to move. On the other side the famous French captain leaned back in his chair, a litter of nut-shells upon his lap, his huge head half buried in a cushion, while his eyes wandered with an amused gleam from his dame to the staring, enraptured94 Englishmen. Then, last of all, that pale clear-cut face, that sweet clear voice, with its high thrilling talk of the deathlessness of glory, of the worthlessness of life, of the pain of ignoble95 joys, and of the joy which lies in all pains which lead to a noble end. Still, as the shadows deepened, she spoke of valor96 and virtue97, of loyalty98, honor, and fame, and still they sat drinking in her words while the fire burned down and the red ash turned to gray.
“By the sainted Ives!” cried Du Guesclin at last, “it is time that we spoke of what we are to do this night, for I cannot think that in this wayside auberge there are fit quarters for an honorable company.”
Sir Nigel gave a long sigh as he came back from the dreams of chivalry and hardihood into which this strange woman's words had wafted99 him. “I care not where I sleep,” said he; “but these are indeed somewhat rude lodgings100 for this fair lady.”
“What contents my lord contents me,” quoth she. “I perceive, Sir Nigel, that you are under vow,” she added, glancing at his covered eye.
“It is my purpose to attempt some small deed,” he answered.
“And the glove—is it your lady's?”
“It is indeed my sweet wife's.”
“Who is doubtless proud of you.”
“Say rather I of her,” quoth he quickly. “God He knows that I am not worthy76 to be her humble servant. It is easy, lady, for a man to ride forth101 in the light of day, and do his devoir when all men have eyes for him. But in a woman's heart there is a strength and truth which asks no praise, and can but be known to him whose treasure it is.”
The Lady Tiphaine smiled across at her husband. “You have often told me, Bertrand, that there were very gentle knights102 amongst the English,” quoth she.
“Aye, aye,” said he moodily. “But to horse, Sir Nigel, you and yours and we shall seek the chateau12 of Sir Tristram de Rochefort, which is two miles on this side of Villefranche. He is Seneschal of Auvergne, and mine old war companion.”
“Certes, he would have a welcome for you,” quoth Sir Nigel; “but indeed he might look askance at one who comes without permit over the marches.”
“By the Virgin! when he learns that you have come to draw away these rascals104 he will be very blithe105 to look upon your face. Inn-keeper, here are ten gold pieces. What is over and above your reckoning you may take off from your charges to the next needy106 knight who comes this way. Come then, for it grows late and the horses are stamping in the roadway.”
The Lady Tiphaine and her spouse sprang upon their steeds without setting feet to stirrup, and away they jingled107 down the white moonlit highway, with Sir Nigel at the lady's bridle-arm, and Ford a spear's length behind them. Alleyne had lingered for an instant in the passage, and as he did so there came a wild outcry from a chamber upon the left, and out there ran Aylward and John, laughing together like two schoolboys who are bent upon a prank108. At sight of Alleyne they slunk past him with somewhat of a shame-faced air, and springing upon their horses galloped109 after their party. The hubbub111 within the chamber did not cease, however, but rather increased, with yells of: “A moi, mes amis! A moi, camarades! A moi, l'honorable champion de l'Eveque de Montaubon! A la recousse de l'eglise sainte!” So shrill112 was the outcry that both the inn-keeper and Alleyne, with every varlet within hearing, rushed wildly to the scene of the uproar113.
It was indeed a singular scene which met their eyes. The room was a long and lofty one, stone floored and bare, with a fire at the further end upon which a great pot was boiling. A deal table ran down the centre, with a wooden wine-pitcher upon it and two horn cups. Some way from it was a smaller table with a single beaker and a broken wine-bottle. From the heavy wooden rafters which formed the roof there hung rows of hooks which held up sides of bacon, joints114 of smoked beef, and strings115 of onions for winter use. In the very centre of all these, upon the largest hook of all, there hung a fat little red-faced man with enormous whiskers, kicking madly in the air and clawing at rafters, hams, and all else that was within hand-grasp. The huge steel hook had been passed through the collar of his leather jerkin, and there he hung like a fish on a line, writhing116, twisting, and screaming, but utterly117 unable to free himself from his extraordinary position. It was not until Alleyne and the landlord had mounted on the table that they were able to lift him down, when he sank gasping118 with rage into a seat, and rolled his eyes round in every direction.
“Has he gone?” quoth he.
“Gone? Who?”
“He, the man with the red head, the giant man.”
“Yes,” said Alleyne, “he hath gone.”
“And comes not back?”
“No.”
“The better for him!” cried the little man, with a long sigh of relief. “Mon Dieu! What! am I not the champion of the Bishop119 of Montaubon? Ah, could I have descended120, could I have come down, ere he fled! Then you would have seen. You would have beheld121 a spectacle then. There would have been one rascal103 the less upon earth. Ma foi, yes!”
“Good master Pelligny,” said the landlord, “these gentlemen have not gone very fast, and I have a horse in the stable at your disposal, for I would rather have such bloody122 doings as you threaten outside the four walls of mine auberge.”
“I hurt my leg and cannot ride,” quoth the bishop's champion. “I strained a sinew on the day that I slew123 the three men at Castelnau.”
“God save you, master Pelligny!” cried the landlord. “It must be an awesome124 thing to have so much blood upon one's soul. And yet I do not wish to see so valiant125 a man mishandled, and so I will, for friendship's sake, ride after this Englishman and bring him back to you.”
“You shall not stir,” cried the champion, seizing the inn-keeper in a convulsive grasp. “I have a love for you, Gaston, and I would not bring your house into ill repute, nor do such scath to these walls and chattels126 as must befall if two such men as this Englishman and I fall to work here.”
“Nay, think not of me!” cried the inn-keeper. “What are my walls when set against the honor of Francois Poursuivant d'Amour Pelligny, champion of the Bishop of Montaubon. My horse, Andre!”
“By the saints, no! Gaston, I will not have it! You have said truly that it is an awesome thing to have such rough work upon one's soul. I am but a rude soldier, yet I have a mind. Mon Dieu! I reflect, I weigh, I balance. Shall I not meet this man again? Shall I not bear him in mind? Shall I not know him by his great paws and his red head? Ma foi, yes!”
“And may I ask, sir,” said Alleyne, “why it is that you call yourself champion of the Bishop of Montaubon?”
“You may ask aught which it is becoming to me to answer. The bishop hath need of a champion, because, if any cause be set to test of combat, it would scarce become his office to go down into the lists with leather and shield and cudgel to exchange blows with any varlet. He looks around him then for some tried fighting man, some honest smiter127 who can give a blow or take one. It is not for me to say how far he hath succeeded, but it is sooth that he who thinks that he hath but to do with the Bishop of Montaubon, finds himself face to face with Francois Poursuivant d'Amour Pelligny.”
At this moment there was a clatter128 of hoofs129 upon the road, and a varlet by the door cried out that one of the Englishmen was coming back. The champion looked wildly about for some corner of safety, and was clambering up towards the window, when Ford's voice sounded from without, calling upon Alleyne to hasten, or he might scarce find his way. Bidding adieu to landlord and to champion, therefore, he set off at a gallop110, and soon overtook the two archers130.
“A pretty thing this, John,” said he. “Thou wilt131 have holy Church upon you if you hang her champions upon iron hooks in an inn kitchen.”
“It was done without thinking,” he answered apologetically, while Aylward burst into a shout of laughter.
“By my hilt! mon petit,” said he, “you would have laughed also could you have seen it. For this man was so swollen132 with pride that he would neither drink with us, nor sit at the same table with us, nor as much as answer a question, but must needs talk to the varlet all the time that it was well there was peace, and that he had slain133 more Englishmen than there were tags to his doublet. Our good old John could scarce lay his tongue to French enough to answer him, so he must needs reach out his great hand to him and place him very gently where you saw him. But we must on, for I can scarce hear their hoofs upon the road.”
“I think that I can see them yet,” said Ford, peering down the moonlit road.
“Pardieu! yes. Now they ride forth from the shadow. And yonder dark clump134 is the Castle of Villefranche. En avant camarades! or Sir Nigel may reach the gates before us. But hark, mes amis, what sound is that?”
As he spoke the hoarse blast of a horn was heard from some woods upon the right. An answering call rung forth upon their left, and hard upon it two others from behind them.
“They are the horns of swine-herds,” quoth Aylward. “Though why they blow them so late I cannot tell.”
“Let us on, then,” said Ford, and the whole party, setting their spurs to their horses, soon found themselves at the Castle of Villefranche, where the drawbridge had already been lowered and the portcullis raised in response to the summons of Du Guesclin.
点击收听单词发音
1 desolate | |
adj.荒凉的,荒芜的;孤独的,凄凉的;v.使荒芜,使孤寂 | |
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2 marshes | |
n.沼泽,湿地( marsh的名词复数 ) | |
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3 glade | |
n.林间空地,一片表面有草的沼泽低地 | |
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4 swirling | |
v.旋转,打旋( swirl的现在分词 ) | |
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5 lashed | |
adj.具睫毛的v.鞭打( lash的过去式和过去分词 );煽动;紧系;怒斥 | |
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6 dense | |
a.密集的,稠密的,浓密的;密度大的 | |
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7 den | |
n.兽穴;秘密地方;安静的小房间,私室 | |
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8 hideous | |
adj.丑陋的,可憎的,可怕的,恐怖的 | |
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9 harried | |
v.使苦恼( harry的过去式和过去分词 );不断烦扰;一再袭击;侵扰 | |
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10 tract | |
n.传单,小册子,大片(土地或森林) | |
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11 blotches | |
n.(皮肤上的)红斑,疹块( blotch的名词复数 );大滴 [大片](墨水或颜色的)污渍 | |
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12 chateau | |
n.城堡,别墅 | |
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13 crumbling | |
adj.摇摇欲坠的 | |
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14 turrets | |
(六角)转台( turret的名词复数 ); (战舰和坦克等上的)转动炮塔; (摄影机等上的)镜头转台; (旧时攻城用的)塔车 | |
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15 graceful | |
adj.优美的,优雅的;得体的 | |
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16 pinnacles | |
顶峰( pinnacle的名词复数 ); 顶点; 尖顶; 小尖塔 | |
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17 monastery | |
n.修道院,僧院,寺院 | |
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18 misery | |
n.痛苦,苦恼,苦难;悲惨的境遇,贫苦 | |
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19 moodily | |
adv.喜怒无常地;情绪多变地;心情不稳地;易生气地 | |
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20 blighted | |
adj.枯萎的,摧毁的 | |
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21 bent | |
n.爱好,癖好;adj.弯的;决心的,一心的 | |
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22 sullen | |
adj.愠怒的,闷闷不乐的,(天气等)阴沉的 | |
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23 mutinous | |
adj.叛变的,反抗的;adv.反抗地,叛变地;n.反抗,叛变 | |
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24 softening | |
变软,软化 | |
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25 jaws | |
n.口部;嘴 | |
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26 jaw | |
n.颚,颌,说教,流言蜚语;v.喋喋不休,教训 | |
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27 thatch | |
vt.用茅草覆盖…的顶部;n.茅草(屋) | |
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28 feudal | |
adj.封建的,封地的,领地的 | |
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29 wring | |
n.扭绞;v.拧,绞出,扭 | |
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30 toil | |
vi.辛劳工作,艰难地行动;n.苦工,难事 | |
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31 woes | |
困境( woe的名词复数 ); 悲伤; 我好苦哇; 某人就要倒霉 | |
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32 wary | |
adj.谨慎的,机警的,小心的 | |
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33 watchful | |
adj.注意的,警惕的 | |
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34 flayer | |
剥皮者,抢劫者,痛责者 | |
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35 dwellings | |
n.住处,处所( dwelling的名词复数 ) | |
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36 holly | |
n.[植]冬青属灌木 | |
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37 knight | |
n.骑士,武士;爵士 | |
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38 lodge | |
v.临时住宿,寄宿,寄存,容纳;n.传达室,小旅馆 | |
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39 hostel | |
n.(学生)宿舍,招待所 | |
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40 sputtering | |
n.反应溅射法;飞溅;阴极真空喷镀;喷射v.唾沫飞溅( sputter的现在分词 );发劈啪声;喷出;飞溅出 | |
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41 aquiline | |
adj.钩状的,鹰的 | |
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42 beholder | |
n.观看者,旁观者 | |
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43 mantle | |
n.斗篷,覆罩之物,罩子;v.罩住,覆盖,脸红 | |
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44 sable | |
n.黑貂;adj.黑色的 | |
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45 velvet | |
n.丝绒,天鹅绒;adj.丝绒制的,柔软的 | |
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46 flask | |
n.瓶,火药筒,砂箱 | |
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47 thighs | |
n.股,大腿( thigh的名词复数 );食用的鸡(等的)腿 | |
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48 leisurely | |
adj.悠闲的;从容的,慢慢的 | |
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49 countenance | |
n.脸色,面容;面部表情;vt.支持,赞同 | |
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50 puckered | |
v.(使某物)起褶子或皱纹( pucker的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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51 spoke | |
n.(车轮的)辐条;轮辐;破坏某人的计划;阻挠某人的行动 v.讲,谈(speak的过去式);说;演说;从某种观点来说 | |
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52 growl | |
v.(狗等)嗥叫,(炮等)轰鸣;n.嗥叫,轰鸣 | |
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53 prey | |
n.被掠食者,牺牲者,掠食;v.捕食,掠夺,折磨 | |
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54 discordant | |
adj.不调和的 | |
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55 ashen | |
adj.灰的 | |
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56 bristling | |
a.竖立的 | |
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57 apprehension | |
n.理解,领悟;逮捕,拘捕;忧虑 | |
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58 virgin | |
n.处女,未婚女子;adj.未经使用的;未经开发的 | |
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59 villain | |
n.反派演员,反面人物;恶棍;问题的起因 | |
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60 bustled | |
闹哄哄地忙乱,奔忙( bustle的过去式和过去分词 ); 催促 | |
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61 soothing | |
adj.慰藉的;使人宽心的;镇静的 | |
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62 remonstrating | |
v.抗议( remonstrate的现在分词 );告诫 | |
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63 rouge | |
n.胭脂,口红唇膏;v.(在…上)擦口红 | |
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64 humble | |
adj.谦卑的,恭顺的;地位低下的;v.降低,贬低 | |
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65 presumption | |
n.推测,可能性,冒昧,放肆,[法律]推定 | |
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66 advancement | |
n.前进,促进,提升 | |
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67 chivalry | |
n.骑士气概,侠义;(男人)对女人彬彬有礼,献殷勤 | |
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68 deformed | |
adj.畸形的;变形的;丑的,破相了的 | |
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69 snarled | |
v.(指狗)吠,嗥叫, (人)咆哮( snarl的过去式和过去分词 );咆哮着说,厉声地说 | |
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70 softened | |
(使)变软( soften的过去式和过去分词 ); 缓解打击; 缓和; 安慰 | |
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71 astonishment | |
n.惊奇,惊异 | |
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72 gasped | |
v.喘气( gasp的过去式和过去分词 );喘息;倒抽气;很想要 | |
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73 hoarse | |
adj.嘶哑的,沙哑的 | |
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74 aged | |
adj.年老的,陈年的 | |
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75 condescend | |
v.俯就,屈尊;堕落,丢丑 | |
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76 worthy | |
adj.(of)值得的,配得上的;有价值的 | |
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77 bide | |
v.忍耐;等候;住 | |
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78 squires | |
n.地主,乡绅( squire的名词复数 ) | |
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79 spouse | |
n.配偶(指夫或妻) | |
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80 chamber | |
n.房间,寝室;会议厅;议院;会所 | |
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81 concord | |
n.和谐;协调 | |
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83 wrath | |
n.愤怒,愤慨,暴怒 | |
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84 dame | |
n.女士 | |
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85 leeches | |
n.水蛭( leech的名词复数 );蚂蟥;榨取他人脂膏者;医生 | |
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86 nostrums | |
n.骗人的疗法,有专利权的药品( nostrum的名词复数 );妙策 | |
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87 converse | |
vi.谈话,谈天,闲聊;adv.相反的,相反 | |
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88 bugle | |
n.军号,号角,喇叭;v.吹号,吹号召集 | |
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89 flickering | |
adj.闪烁的,摇曳的,一闪一闪的 | |
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90 wayfarers | |
n.旅人,(尤指)徒步旅行者( wayfarer的名词复数 ) | |
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91 Ford | |
n.浅滩,水浅可涉处;v.涉水,涉过 | |
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92 fleck | |
n.斑点,微粒 vt.使有斑点,使成斑驳 | |
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93 rigid | |
adj.严格的,死板的;刚硬的,僵硬的 | |
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94 enraptured | |
v.使狂喜( enrapture的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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95 ignoble | |
adj.不光彩的,卑鄙的;可耻的 | |
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96 valor | |
n.勇气,英勇 | |
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97 virtue | |
n.德行,美德;贞操;优点;功效,效力 | |
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98 loyalty | |
n.忠诚,忠心 | |
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99 wafted | |
v.吹送,飘送,(使)浮动( waft的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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100 lodgings | |
n. 出租的房舍, 寄宿舍 | |
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101 forth | |
adv.向前;向外,往外 | |
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102 knights | |
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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103 rascal | |
n.流氓;不诚实的人 | |
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104 rascals | |
流氓( rascal的名词复数 ); 无赖; (开玩笑说法)淘气的人(尤指小孩); 恶作剧的人 | |
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105 blithe | |
adj.快乐的,无忧无虑的 | |
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106 needy | |
adj.贫穷的,贫困的,生活艰苦的 | |
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107 jingled | |
喝醉的 | |
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108 prank | |
n.开玩笑,恶作剧;v.装饰;打扮;炫耀自己 | |
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109 galloped | |
(使马)飞奔,奔驰( gallop的过去式和过去分词 ); 快速做[说]某事 | |
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110 gallop | |
v./n.(马或骑马等)飞奔;飞速发展 | |
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111 hubbub | |
n.嘈杂;骚乱 | |
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112 shrill | |
adj.尖声的;刺耳的;v尖叫 | |
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113 uproar | |
n.骚动,喧嚣,鼎沸 | |
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114 joints | |
接头( joint的名词复数 ); 关节; 公共场所(尤指价格低廉的饮食和娱乐场所) (非正式); 一块烤肉 (英式英语) | |
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115 strings | |
n.弦 | |
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116 writhing | |
(因极度痛苦而)扭动或翻滚( writhe的现在分词 ) | |
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117 utterly | |
adv.完全地,绝对地 | |
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118 gasping | |
adj. 气喘的, 痉挛的 动词gasp的现在分词 | |
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119 bishop | |
n.主教,(国际象棋)象 | |
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120 descended | |
a.为...后裔的,出身于...的 | |
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121 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 | |
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122 bloody | |
adj.非常的的;流血的;残忍的;adv.很;vt.血染 | |
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123 slew | |
v.(使)旋转;n.大量,许多 | |
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124 awesome | |
adj.令人惊叹的,难得吓人的,很好的 | |
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125 valiant | |
adj.勇敢的,英勇的;n.勇士,勇敢的人 | |
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126 chattels | |
n.动产,奴隶( chattel的名词复数 ) | |
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127 smiter | |
打击者 | |
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128 clatter | |
v./n.(使)发出连续而清脆的撞击声 | |
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129 hoofs | |
n.(兽的)蹄,马蹄( hoof的名词复数 )v.(兽的)蹄,马蹄( hoof的第三人称单数 ) | |
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130 archers | |
n.弓箭手,射箭运动员( archer的名词复数 ) | |
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131 wilt | |
v.(使)植物凋谢或枯萎;(指人)疲倦,衰弱 | |
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132 swollen | |
adj.肿大的,水涨的;v.使变大,肿胀 | |
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133 slain | |
杀死,宰杀,杀戮( slay的过去分词 ); (slay的过去分词) | |
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134 clump | |
n.树丛,草丛;vi.用沉重的脚步行走 | |
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