The solo talkers have vanished. Nothing but the tradition of them remains8, imperfectly preserved in books for the benefit of an ungrateful posterity9, which 2 reviles10 their surviving contemporaries, and would perhaps even have reviled11 the illustrious creatures themselves as Bores. If they could rise from the dead, and wag their unresting tongues among us now, would they win their reputations anew, just as easily as ever? Would they even get listeners? Would they be actually allowed to talk? I venture to say, decidedly not. They would surely be interrupted and contradicted; they would have their nearest neighbours at the dinner-table talking across them; they would find impatient people opposite, dropping things noisily, and ostentatiously picking them up; they would hear confidential12 whispering, and perpetual fidgeting in distant corners, before they had got through their first half-dozen of eloquent opening sentences. Nothing appears to me so wonderful as that none of these interruptions (if we are to believe report) should ever have occurred in the good old times of the great talkers. I read long biographies of that large class of illustrious individuals whose fame is confined to the select circle of their own acquaintance, and I find that they were to a man, whatever other differences may have existed between them, all delightful13 talkers. I am informed that they held forth14 entrancingly for hours together, at all times and seasons, and that I, the gentle, constant, and patient reader, am one of the most unfortunate and pitiable of 3 human beings in never having enjoyed the luxury of hearing them: but, strangely enough, I am never told whether they were occasionally interrupted or not in the course of their outpourings. I am left to infer that their friends sat under them just as a congregation sits under a pulpit; and I ask myself amazedly (remembering what society is at the present day), whether human nature can have changed altogether since that time. Either the reports in the biographies are one-sided and imperfect, or the race of people whom I frequently meet with now—and whom I venture to call Talk-stoppers, because their business in life seems to be the obstructing15, confusing, and interrupting of all conversation—must be the peculiar16 and portentous17 growth of our own degenerate era.
Perplexed18 by this dilemma19, when I am reading in long biographies about great talkers, I do not find myself lamenting20, like my seniors, that they have left no successors in our day, or doubting irreverently, like my juniors, whether the famous performers of conversational21 solos were really as well worth hearing as eulogistic22 report would fain have us believe. The one invariable question that I put to myself under these circumstances runs thus:—Could the great talkers, if they had lived in my time, have talked at all? And the answer I receive is:—In the vast majority of cases, certainly not. 4
Let me not unnecessarily mention names, but let me ask, for example, if some such famous talker as, say—the Great Glib23—could have discoursed24 uninterruptedly for five minutes together in the presence of my friend Colonel Hopkirk?
The colonel goes a great deal into society; he is the kindest and gentlest of men; but he unconsciously stops, or confuses conversation everywhere, solely26 in consequence of his own sociable27 horror of ever differing in opinion with anybody. If A. should begin by declaring black to be black, Colonel Hopkirk would be sure to agree with him, before he had half done. If B. followed, and declared black to be white, the colonel would be on his side of the question, before he had argued it out; and, if C. peaceably endeavoured to calm the dispute with a truism, and trusted that every one would at least admit that black and white in combination made grey, my ever-compliant28 friend would pat him on the shoulder approvingly, all the while he was talking; would declare that C.'s conclusion was, after all, the common sense of the question; and would set A. and B. furiously disputing which of them he agreed or disagreed with now, and whether on the great Black, White, and Grey question, Colonel Hopkirk could really be said to have any opinion at all.
How could the Great Glib hold forth in the company of such a man as this? Let us suppose that 5 delightful talker, with a few of his admirers (including, of course, the writer of his biography), and Colonel Hopkirk, to be all seated at the same table; and let us say that one of the admirers is anxious to get the mellifluous29 Glib to discourse25 on capital punishment for the benefit of the company. The admirer begins, of course, on the approved method of stating the objections to capital punishment, and starts the subject in this manner.
"I was dining out, the other day, Mr. Glib, where capital punishment turned up as a topic of conversation——"
"Ah!" says Colonel Hopkirk, "a dreadful necessity—yes, yes, yes, I see—a dreadful necessity—Eh?"
"And the arguments for its abolition," continues the admirer, without noticing the interruption, "were really handled with great dexterity30 by one of the gentlemen present, who started, of course, with the assertion that it is unlawful, under any circumstances, to take away life——"
"Unlawful, of course!" cries the colonel. "Very well put. Yes, yes—unlawful—to be sure—so it is—unlawful, as you say."
"Unlawful, sir?" begins the Great Glib, severely31. "Have I lived to this time of day, to hear that it is unlawful to protect the lives of the community, by the only certain means——?"
"No, no—O dear me, no!" says the compliant 6 Hopkirk, with the most unblushing readiness. "Protect their lives, of course—as you say, protect their lives by the only certain means—yes, yes, I quite agree with you."
"Allow me, colonel," says another admirer, anxious to assist in starting the great talker, "allow me to remind our friend, before he takes this question in hand, that it is an argument of the abolitionists that perpetual imprisonment32 would answer the purpose of protecting society——"
The colonel is so delighted with this last argument that he bounds on his chair, and rubs his hands in triumph. "My dear sir!" he cries, before the last speaker can say another word, "you have hit it—you have indeed! Perpetual imprisonment—that's the thing—ah, yes, yes, yes, to be sure—perpetual imprisonment—the very thing, my dear sir—the very thing!"
"Excuse me," says a third admirer, "but I think Mr. Glib was about to speak. You were saying, sir——?"
"The whole question of capital punishment," begins the delightful talker, leaning back luxuriously33 in his chair, "lies in a nutshell." ("Very true," from the colonel.) "I murder one of you—say Hopkirk here." ("Ha! ha! ha!" loudly from the colonel, who thinks himself bound to laugh at a joke when he is only wanted to listen to an illustration.) 7 "I murder Hopkirk. What is the first object of all the rest of you, who represent the community at large?" ("To have you hanged," from the colonel. "Ah, yes, to be sure! to have you hanged. Quite right! quite right!") "Is it to make me a reformed character, to teach me a trade, to wash my blood-stains off me delicately, and set me up again in society, looking as clean as the best of you? No!" ("No!" from the compliant colonel.) "Your object is clearly to prevent me from murdering any more of you. And how are you to do that most completely and certainly? Can you accomplish your object by perpetual imprisonment?" ("Ah! I thought we should all agree about it at last," cries the colonel cheerfully. "Yes, yes—nothing else for it but perpetual imprisonment, as you say.") "By perpetual imprisonment? But men have broken out of prison." ("So they have," from the colonel.) "Men have killed their gaolers; and there you have the commission of that very second murder that you wanted to prevent." ("Quite right," from the compliant Talk-Stopper. "A second murder—dreadful! dreadful!") "Imprisonment is not your certain protective remedy, then, evidently. What is?"
"Hanging!!!" cries the colonel, with another bound in his chair, and a voice that can no longer be talked down. "Hanging, to be sure! I quite agree with you. Just what I said from the first. 8 You have hit it, my dear sir. Hanging, as you say—hanging, by all manner of means!"
Has anybody ever met Colonel Hopkirk in society? And does anybody think that the Great Glib could possibly have held forth in the company of that persistently-compliant gentleman, as he is alleged35, by his admiring biographer, to have held forth in the peculiar society of his own time? The thing is clearly impossible. Let us leave Glib, congratulating him on having died when the Hopkirks of these latter days were as yet hardly weaned; let us leave him, and ascertain36 how some other great talker might have got on in the society of some other modern obstructor37 of the flow of eloquent conversation.
I have just been reading the Life, Letters, Labours, Opinions, and Table-Talk of the matchless Mr. Oily; edited—as to the Life, by his mother-in-law; as to the Letters, by his grand-daughter's husband; and as to the Labours, Opinions, and Table-Talk, by three of his intimate friends, who dined with him every other Sunday throughout the whole of his long and distinguished38 life. It is a very pretty book in a great many volumes, with pleasing anecdotes—not only of the eminent39 man himself, but of all his family connections as well. His shortest notes are preserved, and the shortest notes of others to him. "My dear O., how is your poor head? Yours, P." "My dear P., hotter than ever. Yours, O." And so on. 9 Portraits of Oily, in infancy40, childhood, youth, manhood, old age active, and old age infirm, concluding with a post-mortem mask, abound41 in the book—so do fac-similes of his handwriting, showing the curious modifications42 which it underwent when he occasionally exchanged a quill43 for a steel-pen. But it will be more to my present purpose to announce for the benefit of unfortunate people who have not yet read the Memoirs44, that Oily was, as a matter of course, a delightful and incessant45 talker. He poured out words, and his audience imbibed46 the same perpetually three times a week from tea-time to past midnight. Women especially revelled47 in his conversation. They hung, so to speak, palpitating on his lips. All this is told me in the Memoirs at great length, and in several places; but not a word occurs anywhere tending to show that Oily ever met with the slightest interruption on any one of the thousand occasions when he held forth. In relation to him, as in relation to the Great Glib, I seem bound to infer that he was never staggered by an unexpected question, never affronted48 by a black sheep among the flock, in the shape of an inattentive listener, never silenced by some careless man capable of unconsciously cutting him short and starting another topic before he had half done with his own particular subject. I am bound to believe all this—and yet, when I look about me at society as it is 10 constituted now, I could fill a room, at a day's notice, with people who would shut up the mouth of Oily before it had been open five minutes, quite as a matter of course, and without the remotest suspicion that they were misbehaving themselves in the slightest degree. What (I ask myself), to take only one example, and that from the fair sex—what would have become of Oily's delightful and incessant talk, if he had known my friend Mrs. Marblemug, and had taken her down to dinner in his enviable capacity of distinguished man?
Mrs. Marblemug has one subject of conversation—her own vices50. On all other topics she is sarcastically52 indifferent and scornfully mute. General conversation she consequently never indulges in; but the person who sits next to her is sure to be interrupted as soon as he attracts her attention by talking to her, by receiving a confession53 of her vices—not made repentantly, or confusedly, or jocularly—but slowly declaimed with an ostentatious cynicism, with a hard eye, a hard voice, a hard—no, an adamantine—manner. In early youth, Mrs. Marblemug discovered that her business in life was to be eccentric and disagreeable, and she is one of the women of England who fulfils her mission.
I fancy I see the ever-flowing Oily sitting next to this lady at dinner, and innocently trying to make her hang on his lips like the rest of his tea-table 11 harem. His conversation is reported by his affectionate biographers, as having been for the most part of the sweetly pastoral sort. I find that he drove that much-enduring subject, Nature, in his conversational car of triumph, longer and harder than most men. I see him, in my mind's eye, starting in his insinuating54 way from some parsley garnish55 round a dish of lobsters—confessing, in his rich, full, and yet low voice (vide Memoirs) that garnish delights him, because his favourite colour is green—and so getting easily on to the fields, the great subject from which he always got his largest conversational crop. I imagine his tongue to be, as it were, cutting its first preliminary capers56 on the grass for the benefit of Mrs. Marblemug; and I hear that calmly-brazen lady throw him flat on his back by the utterance57 of some such words as these:
"Mr. Oily, I ought to have told you, perhaps, that I hate the fields: I think Nature in general something eminently58 disagreeable—the country, in short, quite odious59. If you ask me why, I can't tell you. I know I'm wrong; but hating Nature is one of my vices."
Mr. Oily eloquently60 remonstrates61. Mrs. Marblemug only says, "Yes, very likely—but, you see, it's one of my vices." Mr. Oily tries a dexterous62 compliment. Mrs. Marblemug only answers, "Don't!—I see through that. It's wrong in me to see through 12 compliments, being a woman, I know. But I can't help seeing through them, and saying I do. That's another of my vices." Mr. Oily shifts the subject to Literature, and thence, gently but surely, to his own books—his second great topic after the fields. Mrs. Marblemug lets him go on, because she has something to finish on her plate—then lays down her knife and fork—looks at him with a kind of wondering indifference63, and breaks into his next sentence thus:—
"I'm afraid I don't seem quite so much interested as I know I ought to be," she says; "but I should have told you, perhaps, when we first sat down, that I have given up reading."
"Given up reading!" exclaims Mr. Oily, thunderstruck by the monstrous64 confession. "You mean only the trash that has come into vogue65 lately; the morbid66, unhealthy——"
"No, not at all," rejoins Mrs. Marblemug. "If I read anything, it would be morbid literature. My taste is unhealthy. That's another of my vices."
"My dear madam, you amaze—you alarm me,—you do indeed!" cries Mr. Oily, waving his hand in graceful67 deprecation and polite horror.
"Don't," says Mrs. Marblemug; "you'll knock down some of the wine-glasses, and hurt yourself. You had better keep your hand quiet,—you had, indeed. No; I have given up reading, because all 13 books do me harm—the best—the healthiest. Your books even, I suppose, I ought to say; but I can't, because I see through compliments, and despise my own, of course, as much as other people's! Suppose, we say, I don't read, because books do me harm—and leave it there. The thing is not worth pursuing. You think it is? Well, then, books do me harm, because they increase my tendency to be envious68 (one of my worst vices). The better the book is, the more I hate the man for being clever enough to write it—so much cleverer than me, you know, who couldn't write it at all. I believe you call that Envy. Whatever it is, it has been one of my vices from a child. No, no wine—a little water. I think wine nasty, that's another of my vices—or, no, perhaps, that is only one of my misfortunes. Thank you. I wish I could talk to you about books; but I really can't read them—they make me so envious."
Perhaps Oily (who, as I infer from certain passages in his Memoirs, could be a sufficiently69 dogged and resolute70 man on occasions when his dignity was in danger) still valiantly71 declines to submit and be silent, and, shifting his ground, endeavours to draw Mrs. Marblemug out by asking her questions. The new effort, however, avails him nothing. Do what he will, he is always met and worsted by the lady in the same, quiet, easy, indifferent way; and, sooner or later, even his distinguished mouth is muzzled72 by 14 Mrs. Marblemug, like the mouths of all the degenerate talkers of my own time whom I have ever seen in contact with her. Are Mr. Oily's biographers not to be depended on, or can it really be the fact that, in the course of all his long conversational career, that illustrious man never once met with a check in the shape of a Mrs. Marblemug? I have no tender prepossession in favour of the lady; but when I reflect on the character of Mr. Oily, as exhibited in his Memoirs, I am almost inclined to regret that he and Mrs. Marblemug never met. In relation to some people, I involuntarily regard her as a dose of strong moral physic; and I really think she might have done my distinguished countryman some permanent good.
To take another instance, there is the case of the once-brilliant social luminary73, Mr. Endless—extinguished, unfortunately for the new generation, about the time when we were most of us only little boys and girls.
What a talker this sparkling creature must have been, if one may judge by that racy anonymous74 publication (racy was, I think, the word chiefly used in reviewing the book by the critics of the period), Evenings with Endless, by A Constant Listener! "I could hardly believe," I remember the Listener writes, "that the world was the same after Endless had flashed out of this mortal scene. It was morning 15 while he lived—it was twilight75, or worse, when he died. I was very intimate with him. Often has the hand that writes these trembling lines smacked76 that familiar back—often have those thrilling and matchless accents syllabled77 the fond diminutive78 of my Christian79 name. It was not so much that his talk was ceaseless (though that is something), as that it moved incessantly80 over all topics from heaven to earth. His variety of subject was the most amazing part of this amazing man. His fertility of allusion81 to topics of the past and present alike, was truly inexhaustible. He hopped82, he skipped, he fluttered, he swooped83 from theme to theme. The butterfly in the garden, the bee in the flower-bed, the changes of the kaleidoscope, the sun and shower of an April morning, are but faint emblems84 of him." With much more to the same eloquent purpose; but not a word from the first page to the last to hint even that Endless was ever brought to a full stop, on any single occasion, by any one of the hundreds of enchanted86 listeners before whom he figured in his wonderful performances with the tongue from morning to night.
And yet, there must surely have been Talk-Stoppers in the world, in the time of the brilliant Endless—talk-stoppers, in all probability, possessing characteristics similar to those now displayed in society by my exasperating87 connection by marriage, Mr. Spoke88 Wheeler. 16
It is impossible to say what the consequences might have been if my relative and Mr. Endless had ever come together. Mr. Spoke Wheeler is one of those men—a large class, as it appears to me—who will talk, and who have nothing whatever in the way of a subject of their own to talk about. His constant practice is to lie silently in ambush89 for subjects started by other people; to take them forthwith from their rightful owners; turn them coolly to his own uses; and then cunningly wait again for the next topic, belonging to somebody else, that passes within his reach. It is useless to give up, and leave him to take the lead—he invariably gives up, too, and declines the honour. It is useless to start once more, seeing him apparently90 silenced—he becomes talkative again the moment you offer him the chance of seizing on your new subject—disposes of it without the slightest fancy, taste, or novelty of handling, in a moment—then relapses into utter speechlessness as soon as he has silenced the rest of the company by taking their topic away from them. Wherever he goes, he commits this social atrocity91 with the most perfect innocence92 and the most provoking good humour, for he firmly believes in himself as one of the most entertaining men who ever crossed a drawing-room or caroused93 at a dinner-table.
Imagine Mr. Spoke Wheeler getting an invitation to one of those brilliant suppers which assisted in 17 making the evenings of the sparkling Endless so attractive to his friends and admirers. See him sitting modestly at the table with every appearance in his face and manner of being the most persistent34 and reliable of listeners. Endless takes the measure of his man, as he too confidently believes, in one bright glance—thinks to himself, Here is a new worshipper to astonish; here is the conveniently dense94 and taciturn human pedestal on which I can stand to let off my fireworks—plunges his knife and fork, gaily95 hospitable96, into the dish before him (let us say a turkey and truffles, for Endless is a gastronome as well as a wit), and starts off with one of those "fertile allusions," for which he was so famous.
"I never carve turkey without thinking of what Madame de Pompadour said to Louis the Fifteenth," Endless begins in his most off-hand manner. "I refer to the time when the superb Frenchwoman first came to court, and the star of the fair Chateauroux waned97 before her. Who remembers what the Pompadour said when the king insisted on carving98 the turkey?"
Before the company can beg Endless, as usual, to remember for them, Mr. Spoke Wheeler starts into life and seizes the subject.
"What a vicious state of society it was in the time of Madame de Pompadour!" he says, with moral severity. "Who can wonder that it led to the French Revolution?" 18
Endless feels that his first effort for the evening is nipped in the bud, and that the new guest is not to be depended on as a listener. He, however, waits politely, and every one else waits politely to hear something more about the French Revolution. Mr. Spoke Wheeler has not another word to say. He has snatched his subject—has exhausted99 it—and is now waiting, with an expectant smile on his face, to lay hands on another. Disastrous100 silence reigns101, until Mr. Endless, as host and wit, launches a new topic in despair.
"Don't forget the salad, gentlemen," he exclaims. "The emblem85, as I always fancy, of human life. The sharp vinegar corrected by the soft oil, just as the misfortune of one day is compensated102 by the luck of another. Heigho! let moralists lecture as they will, what a true gambler's existence ours is, by the very nature of it! Love, fame, wealth, are the stakes we all play for; the world is the table; Death keeps the house, and Destiny shuffles103 the cards. According to my definition, gentlemen, man is a gambling104 animal, and woman——" Endless pauses for a moment, and lifts the glass to his lips to give himself a bacchanalian105 air before he amazes the company with a torrent106 of eloquence107 on the subject of woman. Unhappy man! in that one moment Mr. Spoke Wheeler seizes on his host's brilliant gambling metaphor108, and runs away with it as his own property immediately. 19
"The worst of gambling," he says, with a look of ominous109 wisdom, "is, that when once a man takes to it, he can never be got to give it up again. It always ends in ruin. I know a man whose son is in the Fleet, and whose daughter is a maid-of-all-work at a lodging-house. The poor devil himself once had twenty thousand pounds, and he now picks up a living by writing begging-letters. All through gambling. Degrading vice49, certainly; ruins a man's temper and health, too, as well as his property. Ah! a very degrading vice—very much so indeed!"
"I am afraid, my dear sir, you have no vices," says Endless, getting angry and sarcastic51 as a fresh pause follows this undeniable commonplace. "The bottle stands with you. Do you abjure110 even that most amiable111 of human failings—the cheerful glass? Ha!" exclaims Endless, seeing that his guest is going to speak again, and vainly imagining that he can cut him short this time. "Ha! what a debt we owe to the first man who discovered the true use of the grape! How drunk he must have got in making his immortal112 preliminary experiments! How often his wife must have begged him to consider his health and his respectability, and give up all further investigations113! How he must have shocked his family with perpetual hiccups114, and puzzled the medical men of the period with incurable115 morning headaches! To the health of that marvellous, that magnificent, 20 that inestimable human being, the first Toper in the world! The patriarchal Bacchus quaffing116 in his antediluvian117 vineyard! What a picture, gentlemen; what a subject for our artists! Scumble, my dear friend," continues Endless, breathlessly, feeling that Mr. Spoke Wheeler has got his topic again, and anxious to secure assistance in preventing that persistent gentleman from making any use of the stolen property—"Scumble, your pencil alone is worthy118 of the subject. Tell us, my prince of painters, how would you treat it?"
The prince of painters has his mouth full of turkey, and looks more puzzled than flattered by this complimentary119 appeal. He hesitates, and Mr. Spoke Wheeler darts120 into the conversation on the subject of drunkenness, forthwith.
"I'll tell you what," says the Talk-Stopper, "we may all joke about drunkenness as much as we please—I'm no saint, and I like a joke as well as anybody—but it's a deuced serious thing for all that. Seven-tenths of the crime in this country is owing to drunkenness; and of all the incurable diseases that baffle the doctors, delirium121 tremens is (next to hydrophobia) one of the worst. I like a cheerful glass myself—and this is uncommonly122 good wine we are drinking now—but there's more than you think for to be said on the temperance side of the question; there is, indeed!" 21
Will even the most indiscriminate of the surviving admirers of Endless, and of the great talkers generally, venture to assert that he, or they, could have shown off with the slightest approach to success in the company of Mr. Spoke Wheeler, or of Mrs. Marblemug, or of Colonel Hopkirk, or of any of the other dozens on dozens of notorious talk-stoppers whose characters I refrain from troubling the reader with? Surely not! Surely I have quoted examples enough to prove the correctness of my theory, that the days when the eminent professors of the Art of Conversation could be sure of perpetually-attentive audiences, have gone by. Instead of mourning over the loss of the great talkers, we ought to feel relieved (if we have any real regard for them, which I sometimes doubt) by their timely departure from the scene. Between the members of the modern generation who would not have listened to them, the members who could not have listened to them, and the members who would have confused, interrupted, and cut them short, what extremities123 of compulsory124 silence they must have undergone if they had lasted until our time! Our case may be lamentable125 enough in not having heard them; but how much worse would theirs be if they came back to the world now, and tried to show us how they won their reputations!
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
lamentation
|
|
| n.悲叹，哀悼 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
proceeding
|
|
| n.行动，进行，(pl.)会议录，学报 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
enraptured
|
|
| v.使狂喜( enrapture的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
deluged
|
|
| v.使淹没( deluge的过去式和过去分词 )；淹没；被洪水般涌来的事物所淹没；穷于应付 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
eloquent
|
|
| adj.雄辩的，口才流利的；明白显示出的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
monologue
|
|
| n.长篇大论，（戏剧等中的）独白 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
degenerate
|
|
| v.退步，堕落；adj.退步的，堕落的；n.堕落者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
remains
|
|
| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
posterity
|
|
| n.后裔，子孙，后代 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
reviles
|
|
| v.辱骂，痛斥( revile的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
reviled
|
|
| v.辱骂，痛斥( revile的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
confidential
|
|
| adj.秘（机）密的，表示信任的，担任机密工作的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
delightful
|
|
| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
forth
|
|
| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
obstructing
|
|
| 阻塞( obstruct的现在分词 )； 堵塞； 阻碍； 阻止 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
peculiar
|
|
| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
portentous
|
|
| adj.不祥的，可怕的，装腔作势的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
perplexed
|
|
| adj.不知所措的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
dilemma
|
|
| n.困境，进退两难的局面 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
lamenting
|
|
| adj.悲伤的，悲哀的v.（为…）哀悼，痛哭，悲伤( lament的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
conversational
|
|
| adj.对话的，会话的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
eulogistic
|
|
| adj.颂扬的，颂词的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
glib
|
|
| adj.圆滑的，油嘴滑舌的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
discoursed
|
|
| 演说（discourse的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
discourse
|
|
| n.论文，演说；谈话；话语；vi.讲述，著述 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
solely
|
|
| adv.仅仅，唯一地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
sociable
|
|
| adj.好交际的，友好的，合群的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
compliant
|
|
| adj.服从的，顺从的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
mellifluous
|
|
| adj.（音乐等）柔美流畅的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
dexterity
|
|
| n.(手的)灵巧，灵活 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
severely
|
|
| adv.严格地；严厉地；非常恶劣地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
imprisonment
|
|
| n.关押，监禁，坐牢 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
luxuriously
|
|
| adv.奢侈地，豪华地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
persistent
|
|
| adj.坚持不懈的，执意的；持续的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
alleged
|
|
| a.被指控的，嫌疑的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
ascertain
|
|
| vt.发现，确定，查明，弄清 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
obstructor
|
|
| 妨碍物，阻碍者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
|
38
distinguished
|
|
| adj.卓越的，杰出的，著名的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
eminent
|
|
| adj.显赫的，杰出的，有名的，优良的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
infancy
|
|
| n.婴儿期；幼年期；初期 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
abound
|
|
| vi.大量存在；(in，with)充满，富于 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
modifications
|
|
| n.缓和( modification的名词复数 )；限制；更改；改变 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
quill
|
|
| n.羽毛管；v.给（织物或衣服）作皱褶 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
memoirs
|
|
| n.回忆录；回忆录传( mem,自oir的名词复数) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
incessant
|
|
| adj.不停的，连续的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
imbibed
|
|
| v.吸收( imbibe的过去式和过去分词 )；喝；吸取；吸气 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
revelled
|
|
| v.作乐( revel的过去式和过去分词 )；狂欢；着迷；陶醉 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
affronted
|
|
| adj.被侮辱的，被冒犯的v.勇敢地面对( affront的过去式和过去分词 )；相遇 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
vice
|
|
| n.坏事；恶习；[pl.]台钳，老虎钳；adj.副的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
vices
|
|
| 缺陷( vice的名词复数 )； 恶习； 不道德行为； 台钳 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
sarcastic
|
|
| adj.讥讽的，讽刺的，嘲弄的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
sarcastically
|
|
| adv.挖苦地，讽刺地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
confession
|
|
| n.自白，供认，承认 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
insinuating
|
|
| adj.曲意巴结的，暗示的v.暗示( insinuate的现在分词 )；巧妙或迂回地潜入；（使）缓慢进入；慢慢伸入 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
garnish
|
|
| n.装饰，添饰，配菜 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
capers
|
|
| n.开玩笑( caper的名词复数 )；刺山柑v.跳跃，雀跃( caper的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
utterance
|
|
| n.用言语表达，话语，言语 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
58
eminently
|
|
| adv.突出地；显著地；不寻常地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
59
odious
|
|
| adj.可憎的，讨厌的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
eloquently
|
|
| adv. 雄辩地(有口才地, 富于表情地) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
61
remonstrates
|
|
| v.抗议( remonstrate的第三人称单数 )；告诫 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
|
62
dexterous
|
|
| adj.灵敏的；灵巧的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
63
indifference
|
|
| n.不感兴趣，不关心，冷淡，不在乎 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
64
monstrous
|
|
| adj.巨大的；恐怖的；可耻的，丢脸的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
65
Vogue
|
|
| n.时髦，时尚；adj.流行的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
66
morbid
|
|
| adj.病的；致病的；病态的；可怕的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
67
graceful
|
|
| adj.优美的，优雅的；得体的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
68
envious
|
|
| adj.嫉妒的，羡慕的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
69
sufficiently
|
|
| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
70
resolute
|
|
| adj.坚决的，果敢的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
71
valiantly
|
|
| adv.勇敢地，英勇地；雄赳赳 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
72
muzzled
|
|
| 给（狗等）戴口套( muzzle的过去式和过去分词 )； 使缄默，钳制…言论 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
73
luminary
|
|
| n.名人，天体 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
74
anonymous
|
|
| adj.无名的；匿名的；无特色的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
75
twilight
|
|
| n.暮光，黄昏；暮年，晚期，衰落时期 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
76
smacked
|
|
| 拍，打，掴( smack的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
77
syllabled
|
|
| 有…音节的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
78
diminutive
|
|
| adj.小巧可爱的，小的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
79
Christian
|
|
| adj.基督教徒的；n.基督教徒 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
80
incessantly
|
|
| ad.不停地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
81
allusion
|
|
| n.暗示，间接提示 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
82
hopped
|
|
| 跳上[下]( hop的过去式和过去分词 )； 单足蹦跳； 齐足（或双足）跳行； 摘葎草花 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
83
swooped
|
|
| 俯冲，猛冲( swoop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
84
emblems
|
|
| n.象征，标记( emblem的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
85
emblem
|
|
| n.象征，标志；徽章 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
86
enchanted
|
|
| adj. 被施魔法的，陶醉的，入迷的 动词enchant的过去式和过去分词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
87
exasperating
|
|
| adj. 激怒的 动词exasperate的现在分词形式 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
88
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 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
89
ambush
|
|
| n.埋伏(地点)；伏兵；v.埋伏；伏击 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
90
apparently
|
|
| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
91
atrocity
|
|
| n.残暴，暴行 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
92
innocence
|
|
| n.无罪；天真；无害 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
93
caroused
|
|
| v.痛饮，闹饮欢宴( carouse的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
94
dense
|
|
| a.密集的，稠密的，浓密的；密度大的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
95
gaily
|
|
| adv.欢乐地，高兴地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
96
hospitable
|
|
| adj.好客的；宽容的；有利的，适宜的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
97
waned
|
|
| v.衰落( wane的过去式和过去分词 )；（月）亏；变小；变暗淡 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
98
carving
|
|
| n.雕刻品，雕花 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
99
exhausted
|
|
| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
100
disastrous
|
|
| adj.灾难性的，造成灾害的；极坏的，很糟的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
101
reigns
|
|
| n.君主的统治( reign的名词复数 )；君主统治时期；任期；当政期 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
102
compensated
|
|
| 补偿，报酬( compensate的过去式和过去分词 )； 给（某人）赔偿（或赔款） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
103
shuffles
|
|
| n.洗（纸牌）( shuffle的名词复数 )；拖着脚步走；粗心地做；摆脱尘世的烦恼v.洗（纸牌）( shuffle的第三人称单数 )；拖着脚步走；粗心地做；摆脱尘世的烦恼 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
104
gambling
|
|
| n.赌博；投机 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
105
bacchanalian
|
|
| adj.闹酒狂饮的；n.发酒疯的人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
106
torrent
|
|
| n.激流，洪流；爆发，(话语等的)连发 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
107
eloquence
|
|
| n.雄辩；口才，修辞 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
108
metaphor
|
|
| n.隐喻，暗喻 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
109
ominous
|
|
| adj.不祥的，不吉的，预兆的，预示的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
110
abjure
|
|
| v.发誓放弃 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
111
amiable
|
|
| adj.和蔼可亲的，友善的，亲切的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
112
immortal
|
|
| adj.不朽的；永生的，不死的；神的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
113
investigations
|
|
| （正式的）调查( investigation的名词复数 )； 侦查； 科学研究； 学术研究 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
114
hiccups
|
|
| n.嗝( hiccup的名词复数 )；连续地打嗝；暂时性的小问题；短暂的停顿v.嗝( hiccup的第三人称单数 )；连续地打嗝；暂时性的小问题；短暂的停顿 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
115
incurable
|
|
| adj.不能医治的，不能矫正的，无救的；n.不治的病人，无救的人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
116
quaffing
|
|
| v.痛饮( quaff的现在分词 )；畅饮；大口大口将…喝干；一饮而尽 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
117
antediluvian
|
|
| adj.史前的，陈旧的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
118
worthy
|
|
| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
119
complimentary
|
|
| adj.赠送的，免费的，赞美的，恭维的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
120
darts
|
|
| n.掷飞镖游戏；飞镖( dart的名词复数 )；急驰，飞奔v.投掷，投射( dart的第三人称单数 )；向前冲，飞奔 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
121
delirium
|
|
| n. 神智昏迷,说胡话;极度兴奋 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
122
uncommonly
|
|
| adv. 稀罕(极，非常) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
123
extremities
|
|
| n.端点( extremity的名词复数 )；尽头；手和足；极窘迫的境地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
124
compulsory
|
|
| n.强制的，必修的；规定的，义务的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
125
lamentable
|
|
| adj.令人惋惜的，悔恨的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |