I.
SOME days passed after the fatal tidings from the Meadows, and at length, somewhat mastering his emotions, Pierre again sits down in his chamber1; for grieve how he will, yet work he must. And now day succeeds day, and week follows week, and Pierre still sits in his chamber. The long rows of cooled brick-kilns around him scarce know of the change; but from the fair fields of his great-great-great-grandfather's manor2, Summer hath flown like a swallow-guest; the perfidious3 wight, Autumn, hath peeped in at the groves4 of the maple5, and under pretense6 of clothing them in rich russet and gold, hath stript them at last of the slightest rag, and then ran away laughing; prophetic icicles depend from the arbors round about the old manorial7 mansion—now locked up and abandoned; and the little, round, marble table in the viny summer-house where, of July mornings, he had sat chatting and drinking negus with his gay mother, is now spread with a shivering napkin of frost; sleety8 varnish9 hath encrusted that once gay mother's grave, preparing it for its final cerements of wrapping snow upon snow; wild howl the winds in the woods: it is Winter. Sweet Summer is done; and Autumn is done; but the book, like the bitter winter, is yet to be finished.
That season's wheat is long garnered12, Pierre; that season's ripe apples and grapes are in; no crop, no plant, no fruit is out; the whole harvest is done. Oh, woe13 to that belated winter-overtaken plant, which the summer could not bring to maturity14! The drifting winter snows shall whelm it. Think, Pierre, doth not thy plant belong to some other and tropical clime? Though transplanted to northern Maine, the orange-tree of the Floridas will put forth15 leaves in that parsimonious16 summer, and show some few tokens of fruitage; yet November will find no golden globes thereon; and the passionate17 old lumber-man, December, shall peel the whole tree, wrench18 it off at the ground, and toss it for a fagot to some lime-kiln. Ah, Pierre, Pierre, make haste! make haste! force thy fruitage, lest the winter force thee.
Watch yon little toddler, how long it is learning to stand by itself! First it shrieks20 and implores22, and will not try to stand at all, unless both father and mother uphold it; then a little more bold, it must, at least, feel one parental23 hand, else again the cry and the tremble; long time is it ere by degrees this child comes to stand without any support. But, by-and-by, grown up to man's estate, it shall leave the very mother that bore it, and the father that begot24 it, and cross the seas, perhaps, or settle in far Oregon lands. There now, do you see the soul. In its germ on all sides it is closely folded by the world, as the husk folds the tenderest fruit; then it is born from the world-husk, but still now outwardly clings to it;—still clamors for the support of its mother the world, and its father the Deity25. But it shall yet learn to stand independent, though not without many a bitter wail26, and many a miserable27 fall.
That hour of the life of a man when first the help of humanity fails him, and he learns that in his obscurity and indigence28 humanity holds him a dog and no man: that hour is a hard one, but not the hardest. There is still another hour which follows, when he learns that in his infinite comparative minuteness and abjectness29, the gods do likewise despise him, and own him not of their clan30. Divinity and humanity then are equally willing that he should starve in the street for all that either will do for him. Now cruel father and mother have both let go his hand, and the little soul-toddler, now you shall hear his shriek21 and his wail, and often his fall.
When at Saddle Meadows, Pierre had wavered and trembled in those first wretched hours ensuing upon the receipt of Isabel's letter; then humanity had let go the hand of Pierre, and therefore his cry; but when at last inured31 to this, Pierre was seated at his book, willing that humanity should desert him, so long as he thought he felt a far higher support; then, ere long, he began to feel the utter loss of that other support, too; ay, even the paternal33 gods themselves did now desert Pierre; the toddler was toddling34 entirely35 alone, and not without shrieks.
The three chambers37 of Pierre at the Apostles' were connecting ones. The first—having a little retreat where Delly slept—was used for the more exacting38 domestic purposes: here also their meals were taken; the second was the chamber of Isabel; the third was the closet of Pierre. In the first—the dining room, as they called it—there was a stove which boiled the water for their coffee and tea, and where Delly concocted39 their light repasts. This was their only fire; for, warned again and again to economize40 to the uttermost, Pierre did not dare to purchase any additional warmth. But by prudent41 management, a very little warmth may go a great way. In the present case, it went some forty feet or more. A horizontal pipe, after elbowing away from above the stove in the dining-room, pierced the partition wall, and passing straight through Isabel's chamber, entered the closet of Pierre at one corner, and then abruptly42 disappeared into the wall, where all further caloric—if any—went up through the chimney into the air, to help warm the December sun. Now, the great distance of Pierre's calorical stream from its fountain, sadly impaired43 it, and weakened it. It hardly had the flavor of heat. It would have had but very inconsiderable influence in raising the depressed44 spirits of the most mercurial45 thermometer; certainly it was not very elevating to the spirits of Pierre. Besides, this calorical stream, small as it was, did not flow through the room, but only entered it, to elbow right out of it, as some coquettish maidens46 enter the heart; moreover, it was in the furthest corner from the only place where, with a judicious47 view to the light, Pierre's desk-barrels and board could advantageously stand. Often, Isabel insisted upon his having a separate stove to himself; but Pierre would not listen to such a thing. Then Isabel would offer her own room to him; saying it was of no indispensable use to her by day; she could easily spend her time in the dining-room; but Pierre would not listen to such a thing; he would not deprive her of the comfort of a continually accessible privacy; besides, he was now used to his own room, and must sit by that particular window there, and no other. Then Isabel would insist upon keeping her connecting door open while Pierre was employed at his desk, that so the heat of her room might bodily go into his; but Pierre would not listen to such a thing: because he must be religiously locked up while at work; outer love and hate must alike be excluded then. In vain Isabel said she would make not the slightest noise, and muffle48 the point of the very needle she used. All in vain. Pierre was inflexible49 here.
Yes, he was resolved to battle it out in his own solitary50 closet; though a strange, transcendental conceit51 of one of the more erratic52 and non-conforming Apostles,—who was also at this time engaged upon a profound work above stairs, and who denied himself his full sufficiency of food, in order to insure an abundant fire;—the strange conceit of this Apostle, I say,—accidentally communicated to Pierre,—that, through all the kingdoms of Nature, caloric was the great universal producer and vivifyer, and could not be prudently53 excluded from the spot where great books were in the act of creation; and therefore, he (the Apostle) for one, was resolved to plant his head in a hot-bed of stove-warmed air, and so force his brain to germinate54 and blossom, and bud, and put forth the eventual55, crowning, victorious56 flower;—though indeed this conceit rather staggered Pierre—for in truth, there was no small smack57 of plausible58 analogy in it—yet one thought of his purse would wholly expel the unwelcome intrusion, and reinforce his own previous resolve.
However lofty and magnificent the movements of the stars; whatever celestial59 melodies they may thereby60 beget61; yet the astronomers62 assure us that they are the most rigidly63 methodical of all the things that exist. No old housewife goes her daily domestic round with one millionth part the precision of the great planet Jupiter in his stated and unalterable revolutions. He has found his orbit, and stays in it; he has timed himself, and adheres to his periods. So, in some degree with Pierre, now revolving64 in the troubled orbit of his book.
Pierre rose moderately early; and the better to inure32 himself to the permanent chill of his room, and to defy and beard to its face, the cruelest cold of the outer air; he would—behind the curtain—throw down the upper sash of his window; and on a square of old painted canvas, formerly65 wrapping some bale of goods in the neighborhood, treat his limbs, of those early December mornings, to a copious66 ablution, in water thickened with incipient67 ice. Nor, in this stoic68 performance, was he at all without company,—not present, but adjoiningly sympathetic; for scarce an Apostle in all those scores and scores of chambers, but undeviatingly took his daily December bath. Pierre had only to peep out of his pane69 and glance round the multi-windowed, inclosing walls of the quadrangle, to catch plentiful70 half-glimpses, all round him, of many a lean, philosophical71 nudity, refreshing72 his meager73 bones with crash-towel and cold water. "Quick be the play," was their motto: "Lively our elbows, and nimble all our tenuities." Oh, the dismal74 echoings of the raspings of flesh-brushes, perverted75 to the filing and polishing of the merest ribs77! Oh, the shuddersome splashings of pails of ice-water over feverish78 heads, not unfamiliar79 with aches! Oh, the rheumatical cracklings of rusted10 joints80, in that defied air of December! for every thick-frosted sash was down, and every lean nudity courted the zephyr81!
Among all the innate82, hyena-like repellants to the reception of any set form of a spiritually-minded and pure archetypical faith, there is nothing so potent83 in its skeptical84 tendencies, as that inevitable85 perverse86 ridiculousness, which so often bestreaks some of the essentially87 finest and noblest aspirations88 of those men, who disgusted with the common conventional quackeries, strive, in their clogged89 terrestrial humanities, after some imperfectly discerned, but heavenly ideals: ideals, not only imperfectly discerned in themselves, but the path to them so little traceable, that no two minds will entirely agree upon it.
Hardly a new-light Apostle, but who, in superaddition to his revolutionary scheme for the minds and philosophies of men, entertains some insane, heterodoxical notions about the economy of his body. His soul, introduced by the gentlemanly gods, into the supernal90 society,—practically rejects that most sensible maxim91 of men of the world, who chancing to gain the friendship of any great character, never make that the ground of boring him with the supplemental acquaintance of their next friend, who perhaps, is some miserable ninny. Love me, love my dog, is only an adage92 for the old country-women who affectionately kiss their cows. The gods love the soul of a man; often, they will frankly93 accost94 it; but they abominate95 his body; and will forever cut it dead, both here and hereafter. So, if thou wouldst go to the gods, leave thy dog of a body behind thee. And most impotently thou strivest with thy purifying cold baths, and thy diligent96 scrubbings with flesh-brushes, to prepare it as a meet offering for their altar. Nor shall all thy Pythagorean and Shellian dietings on apple-parings, dried prunes97, and crumbs98 of oat-meal cracker99, ever fit thy body for heaven. Feed all things with food convenient for them,—that is, if the food be procurable100. The food of thy soul is light and space; feed it then on light and space. But the food of thy body is champagne101 and oysters102; feed it then on champagne and oysters; and so shall it merit a joyful103 resurrection, if there is any to be. Say, wouldst thou rise with a lantern jaw104 and a spavined knee? Rise with brawn105 on thee, and a most royal corporation before thee; so shalt thou in that day claim respectful attention. Know this: that while many a consumptive dietarian has but produced the merest literary flatulencies to the world; convivial106 authors have alike given utterance107 to the sublimest108 wisdom, and created the least gross and most ethereal forms. And for men of demonstrative muscle and action, consider that right royal epitaph which Cyrus the Great caused to be engraved109 on his tomb—"I could drink a great deal of wine, and it did me a great deal of good." Ah, foolish! to think that by starving thy body, thou shalt fatten110 thy soul! Is yonder ox fatted because yonder lean fox starves in the winter wood? And prate111 not of despising thy body, while still thou flourisheth thy flesh-brush! The finest houses are most cared for within; the outer walls are freely left to the dust and the soot112. Put venison in thee, and so wit shall come out of thee. It is one thing in the mill, but another in the sack.
Now it was the continual, quadrangular example of those forlorn fellows, the Apostles, who, in this period of his half-developments and transitions, had deluded113 Pierre into the Flesh-Brush Philosophy, and had almost tempted115 him into the Apple-Parings Dialectics. For all the long wards116, corridors, and multitudinous chambers of the Apostles' were scattered117 with the stems of apples, the stones of prunes, and the shells of peanuts. They went about huskily muttering the Kantian Categories through teeth and lips dry and dusty as any miller's, with the crumbs of Graham crackers118. A tumbler of cold water was the utmost welcome to their reception rooms; at the grand supposed Sanhedrim presided over by one of the deputies of Plotinus Plinlimmon, a huge jug119 of Adam's Ale, and a bushel-basket of Graham crackers were the only convivials. Continually bits of cheese were dropping from their pockets, and old shiny apple parchments were ignorantly exhibited every time they drew out a manuscript to read you. Some were curious in the vintages of waters; and in three glass decanters set before you, Fairmount, Croton, and Cochituate; they held that Croton was the most potent, Fairmount a gentle tonic120, and Cochituate the mildest and least inebriating121 of all. Take some more of the Croton, my dear sir! Be brisk with the Fairmount! Why stops that Cochituate? So on their philosophical tables went round their Port, their Sherry, and their Claret.
Some, further advanced, rejected mere76 water in the bath, as altogether too coarse an element; and so, took to the Vapor-baths, and steamed their lean ribs every morning. The smoke which issued from their heads, and overspread their pages, was prefigured in the mists that issued from under their door-sills and out of their windows. Some could not sit down of a morning until after first applying the Vapor-bath outside and then thoroughly122 rinsing123 out their interiors with five cups of cold Croton. They were as faithfully replenished124 fire-buckets; and could they, standing125 in one cordon126, have consecutively127 pumped themselves into each other, then the great fire of 1835 had been far less wide-spread and disastrous128.
Ah! ye poor lean ones! ye wretched Soakites and Vaporites! have not your niggardly129 fortunes enough rinsed130 ye out, and wizened131 ye, but ye must still be dragging the hose-pipe, and throwing still more cold Croton on yourselves and the world? Ah! attach the screw of your hose-pipe to some fine old butt132 of Madeira! pump us some sparkling wine into the world! see, see, already, from all eternity133, two-thirds of it have lain helplessly soaking!
II.
But is Pierre packed in the mail for St. Petersburg this morning? Over his boots are his moccasins; over his ordinary coat is his surtout; and over that, a cloak of Isabel's. Now he is squared to his plank; and at his hint, the affectionate Isabel gently pushes his chair closer to it, for he is so muffled135, he can hardly move of himself. Now Delly comes in with bricks hot from the stove; and now Isabel and she with devoted136 solicitude137 pack away these comforting stones in the folds of an old blue cloak, a military garment of the grandfather of Pierre, and tenderly arrange it both over and under his feet; but putting the warm flagging beneath. Then Delly brings still another hot brick to put under his inkstand, to prevent the ink from thickening. Then Isabel drags the camp-bedstead nearer to him, on which are the two or three books he may possibly have occasion to refer to that day, with a biscuit or two, and some water, and a clean towel, and a basin. Then she leans against the plank by the elbow of Pierre, a crook-ended stick. Is Pierre a shepherd, or a bishop138, or a cripple? No, but he has in effect, reduced himself to the miserable condition of the last. With the crook-ended cane139, Pierre—unable to rise without sadly impairing140 his manifold intrenchments, and admitting the cold air into their innermost nooks,—Pierre, if in his solitude141, he should chance to need any thing beyond the reach of his arm, then the crook-ended cane drags it to his immediate142 vicinity.
Pierre glances slowly all round him; every thing seems to be right; he looks up with a grateful, melancholy143 satisfaction at Isabel; a tear gathers in her eye; but she conceals144 it from him by coming very close to him, stooping over, and kissing his brow. 'Tis her lips that leave the warm moisture there; not her tears, she says.
"I suppose I must go now, Pierre. Now don't, don't be so long to-day. I will call thee at half-past four. Thou shalt not strain thine eyes in the twilight145."
"We will see about that," says Pierre, with an unobserved attempt at a very sad pun. "Come, thou must go. Leave me."
And there he is left.
Pierre is young; heaven gave him the divinest, freshest form of a man; put light into his eye, and fire into his blood, and brawn into his arm, and a joyous146, jubilant, overflowing147, upbubbling, universal life in him everywhere. Now look around in that most miserable room, and at that most miserable of all the pursuits of a man, and say if here be the place, and this be the trade, that God intended him for. A rickety chair, two hollow barrels, a plank, paper, pens, and infernally black ink, four leprously dingy148 white walls, no carpet, a cup of water, and a dry biscuit or two. Oh, I hear the leap of the Texan Camanche, as at this moment he goes crashing like a wild deer through the green underbrush; I hear his glorious whoop150 of savage151 and untamable health; and then I look in at Pierre. If physical, practical unreason make the savage, which is he? Civilization, Philosophy, Ideal Virtue152! behold153 your victim!
III.
SOME hours pass. Let us peep over the shoulder of Pierre, and see what it is he is writing there, in that most melancholy closet. Here, topping the reeking155 pile by his side, is the last sheet from his hand, the frenzied156 ink not yet entirely dry. It is much to our purpose; for in this sheet, he seems to have directly plagiarized157 from his own experiences, to fill out the mood of his apparent author-hero, Vivia, who thus soliloquizes: "A deep-down, unutterable mournfulness is in me. Now I drop all humorous or indifferent disguises, and all philosophical pretensions158. I own myself a brother of the clod, a child of the Primeval Gloom. Hopelessness and despair are over me, as pall160 on pall. Away, ye chattering161 apes of a sophomorean Spinoza and Plato, who once didst all but delude114 me that the night was day, and pain only a tickle162. Explain this darkness, exorcise this devil, ye can not. Tell me not, thou inconceivable coxcomb163 of a Goethe, that the universe can not spare thee and thy immortality164, so long as—like a hired waiter—thou makest thyself 'generally useful.' Already the universe gets on without thee, and could still spare a million more of the same identical kidney. Corporations have no souls, and thy Pantheism, what was that? Thou wert but the pretensious, heartless part of a man. Lo! I hold thee in this hand, and thou art crushed in it like an egg from which the meat hath been sucked."
Here is a slip from the floor.
"Whence flow the panegyrical165 melodies that precede the march of these heroes? From what but from a sounding brass166 and a tinkling167 cymbal168!"
And here is a second.
"Cast thy eye in there on Vivia; tell me why those four limbs should be clapt in a dismal jail—day out, day in—week out, week in—month out, month in—and himself the voluntary jailer! Is this the end of philosophy? This the larger, and spiritual life? This your boasted empyrean? Is it for this that a man should grow wise, and leave off his most excellent and calumniated169 folly170?"
And here is a third.
"Cast thy eye in there on Vivia; he, who in the pursuit of the highest health of virtue and truth, shows but a pallid171 cheek! Weigh his heart in thy hand, oh, thou gold-laced, virtuoso172 Goethe! and tell me whether it does not exceed thy standard weight!"
And here is a fourth.
"Oh God, that man should spoil and rust11 on the stalk, and be wilted173 and threshed ere the harvest hath come! And oh God, that men that call themselves men should still insist on a laugh! I hate the world, and could trample174 all lungs of mankind as grapes, and heel them out of their breath, to think of the woe and the cant,—to think of the Truth and the Lie! Oh! blessed be the twenty-first day of December, and cursed be the twenty-first day of June!"
From these random175 slips, it would seem, that Pierre is quite conscious of much that is so anomalously176 hard and bitter in his lot, of much that is so black and terrific in his soul. Yet that knowing his fatal condition does not one whit149 enable him to change or better his condition. Conclusive177 proof that he has no power over his condition. For in tremendous extremities178 human souls are like drowning men; well enough they know they are in peril179; well enough they know the causes of that peril;—nevertheless, the sea is the sea, and these drowning men do drown.
IV.
FROM eight o'clock in the morning till half-past four in the evening, Pierre sits there in his room;—eight hours and a half!
From throbbing180 neck-bands, and swinging belly-bands of gay-hearted horses, the sleigh-bells chimingly jingle;—but Pierre sits there in his room; Thanksgiving comes, with its glad thanks, and crisp turkeys;—but Pierre sits there in his room; soft through the snows, on tinted181 Indian moccasin, Merry Christmas comes stealing;—but Pierre sits there in his room; it is New-Year's, and like a great flagon, the vast city overbrims at all curb-stones, wharves182, and piers183, with bubbling jubilations;—but Pierre sits there in his room:—Nor jingling184 sleigh-bells at throbbing neck-band, or swinging belly-band; nor glad thanks, and crisp turkeys of Thanksgiving; nor tinted Indian moccasin of Merry Christmas softly stealing through the snows; nor New-Year's curb-stones, wharves, and piers, over-brimming with bubbling jubilations:—Nor jingling sleigh-bells, nor glad Thanksgiving, nor Merry Christmas, nor jubilating New Year's:—Nor Bell, Thank, Christ, Year;—none of these are for Pierre. In the midst of the merriments of the mutations of Time, Pierre hath ringed himself in with the grief of Eternity. Pierre is a peak inflexible in the heart of Time, as the isle-peak, Piko, stands unassaultable in the midst of waves.
He will not be called to; he will not be stirred. Sometimes the intent ear of Isabel in the next room, overhears the alternate silence, and then the long lonely scratch of his pen. It is, as if she heard the busy claw of some midnight mole185 in the ground. Sometimes, she hears a low cough, and sometimes the scrape of his crook-handled cane.
Here surely is a wonderful stillness of eight hours and a half, repeated day after day. In the heart of such silence, surely something is at work. Is it creation, or destruction? Builds Pierre the noble world of a new book? or does the Pale Haggardness unbuild the lungs and the life in him?—Unutterable, that a man should be thus!
When in the meridian186 flush of the day, we recall the black apex187 of night; then night seems impossible; this sun can never go down. Oh that the memory of the uttermost gloom as an already tasted thing to the dregs, should be no security against its return. One may be passibly well one day, but the next, he may sup at black broth159 with Pluto188.
Is there then all this work to one book, which shall be read in a very few hours; and, far more frequently, utterly189 skipped in one second; and which, in the end, whatever it be, must undoubtedly190 go to the worms?
Not so; that which now absorbs the time and the life of Pierre, is not the book, but the primitive191 elementalizing of the strange stuff, which in the act of attempting that book, have upheaved and upgushed in his soul. Two books are being writ154; of which the world shall only see one, and that the bungled192 one. The larger book, and the infinitely193 better, is for Pierre's own private shelf. That it is, whose unfathomable cravings drink his blood; the other only demands his ink. But circumstances have so decreed, that the one can not be composed on the paper, but only as the other is writ down in his soul. And the one of the soul is elephantinely sluggish194, and will not budge195 at a breath. Thus Pierre is fastened on by two leeches;—how then can the life of Pierre last? Lo! he is fitting himself for the highest life, by thinning his blood and collapsing196 his heart. He is learning how to live, by rehearsing the part of death.
Who shall tell all the thoughts and feelings of Pierre in that desolate197 and shivering room, when at last the idea obtruded198, that the wiser and the profounder he should grow, the more and the more he lessened199 the chances for bread; that could he now hurl200 his deep book out of the window, and fall to on some shallow nothing of a novel, composable in a month at the longest, then could he reasonably hope for both appreciation201 and cash. But the devouring202 profundities203, now opened up in him, consume all his vigor204; would he, he could not now be entertainingly and profitably shallow in some pellucid205 and merry romance. Now he sees, that with every accession of the personal divine to him, some great land-slide of the general surrounding divineness slips from him, and falls crashing away. Said I not that the gods, as well as mankind, had unhanded themselves from this Pierre? So now in him you behold the baby toddler I spoke206 of; forced now to stand and toddle19 alone.
Now and then he turns to the camp-bed, and wetting his towel in the basin, presses it against his brow. Now he leans back in his chair, as if to give up; but again bends over and plods207.
Twilight draws on, the summons of Isabel is heard from the door; the poor, frozen, blue-lipped, soul-shivering traveler for St. Petersburg is unpacked208; and for a moment stands toddling on the floor. Then his hat, and his cane, and out he sallies for fresh air. A most comfortless staggering of a stroll! People gaze at him passing, as at some imprudent sick man, willfully burst from his bed. If an acquaintance is met, and would say a pleasant newsmonger's word in his ear, that acquaintance turns from him, affronted209 at his hard aspect of icy discourtesy. "Bad-hearted," mutters the man, and goes on.
He comes back to his chambers, and sits down at the neat table of Delly; and Isabel soothingly210 eyes him, and presses him to eat and be strong. But his is the famishing which loathes211 all food. He can not eat but by force. He has assassinated212 the natural day; how then can he eat with an appetite? If he lays him down, he can not sleep; he has waked the infinite wakefulness in him; then how can he slumber213? Still his book, like a vast lumbering214 planet, revolves215 in his aching head. He can not command the thing out of its orbit; fain would he behead himself, to gain one night's repose216. At last the heavy hours move on; and sheer exhaustion217 overtakes him, and he lies still—not asleep as children and day-laborers sleep—but he lies still from his throbbings, and for that interval218 holdingly sheaths the beak219 of the vulture in his hand, and lets it not enter his heart.
Morning comes; again the dropt sash, the icy water, the flesh-brush, the breakfast, the hot bricks, the ink, the pen, the from-eight-o'clock-to-half-past-four, and the whole general inclusive hell of the same departed day.
Ah! shivering thus day after day in his wrappers and cloaks, is this the warm lad that once sung to the world of the Tropical Summer?
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chamber
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| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
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manor
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| n.庄园，领地 | |
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perfidious
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| adj.不忠的，背信弃义的 | |
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groves
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| 树丛，小树林( grove的名词复数 ) | |
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maple
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| n.槭树，枫树，槭木 | |
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pretense
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| n.矫饰，做作，借口 | |
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7
manorial
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| adj.庄园的 | |
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sleety
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| 雨夹雪的，下雨雪的 | |
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varnish
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| n.清漆；v.上清漆；粉饰 | |
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rusted
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| v.（使）生锈( rust的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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rust
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| n.锈；v.生锈；(脑子)衰退 | |
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garnered
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| v.收集并（通常）贮藏（某物），取得，获得( garner的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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woe
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| n.悲哀，苦痛，不幸，困难；int.用来表达悲伤或惊慌 | |
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maturity
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| n.成熟；完成；(支票、债券等)到期 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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parsimonious
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| adj.吝啬的，质量低劣的 | |
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passionate
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| adj.热情的，热烈的，激昂的，易动情的，易怒的，性情暴躁的 | |
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18
wrench
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| v.猛拧；挣脱；使扭伤；n.扳手；痛苦，难受 | |
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19
toddle
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| v.（如小孩）蹒跚学步 | |
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20
shrieks
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| n.尖叫声( shriek的名词复数 )v.尖叫( shriek的第三人称单数 ) | |
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21
shriek
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| v./n.尖叫，叫喊 | |
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22
implores
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| 恳求或乞求（某人）( implore的第三人称单数 ) | |
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23
parental
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| adj.父母的；父的；母的 | |
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24
begot
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| v.为…之生父( beget的过去式 )；产生，引起 | |
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25
deity
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| n.神，神性；被奉若神明的人(或物) | |
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26
wail
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| vt./vi.大声哀号，恸哭；呼啸，尖啸 | |
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27
miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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28
indigence
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| n.贫穷 | |
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29
abjectness
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| 凄惨； 绝望； 卑鄙； 卑劣 | |
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30
clan
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| n.氏族，部落，宗族，家族，宗派 | |
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31
inured
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| adj.坚强的，习惯的 | |
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32
inure
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| v.使惯于 | |
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33
paternal
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| adj.父亲的，像父亲的，父系的，父方的 | |
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34
toddling
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| v.（幼儿等）东倒西歪地走( toddle的现在分词 )；蹒跚行走；溜达；散步 | |
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35
entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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36
wrestle
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| vi.摔跤，角力；搏斗；全力对付 | |
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37
chambers
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| n.房间( chamber的名词复数 )；（议会的）议院；卧室；会议厅 | |
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38
exacting
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| adj.苛求的，要求严格的 | |
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39
concocted
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| v.将（尤指通常不相配合的）成分混合成某物( concoct的过去式和过去分词 )；调制；编造；捏造 | |
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40
economize
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| v.节约，节省 | |
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41
prudent
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| adj.谨慎的，有远见的，精打细算的 | |
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42
abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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43
impaired
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| adj.受损的；出毛病的；有（身体或智力）缺陷的v.损害，削弱( impair的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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44
depressed
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| adj.沮丧的，抑郁的，不景气的，萧条的 | |
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45
mercurial
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| adj.善变的，活泼的 | |
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46
maidens
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| 处女( maiden的名词复数 )； 少女； 未婚女子； （板球运动）未得分的一轮投球 | |
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47
judicious
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| adj.明智的，明断的，能作出明智决定的 | |
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48
muffle
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| v.围裹；抑制；发低沉的声音 | |
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49
inflexible
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| adj.不可改变的，不受影响的，不屈服的 | |
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50
solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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51
conceit
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| n.自负，自高自大 | |
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52
erratic
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| adj.古怪的，反复无常的，不稳定的 | |
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53
prudently
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| adv. 谨慎地，慎重地 | |
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54
germinate
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| v.发芽；发生；发展 | |
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55
eventual
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| adj.最后的，结局的，最终的 | |
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56
victorious
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| adj.胜利的，得胜的 | |
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57
smack
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| vt.拍，打，掴；咂嘴；vi.含有…意味；n.拍 | |
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58
plausible
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| adj.似真实的，似乎有理的，似乎可信的 | |
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59
celestial
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| adj.天体的；天上的 | |
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60
thereby
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| adv.因此，从而 | |
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61
beget
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| v.引起；产生 | |
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62
astronomers
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| n.天文学者，天文学家( astronomer的名词复数 ) | |
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63
rigidly
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| adv.刻板地，僵化地 | |
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64
revolving
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|
| adj.旋转的，轮转式的；循环的v.（使）旋转( revolve的现在分词 )；细想 | |
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65
formerly
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| adv.从前，以前 | |
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66
copious
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| adj.丰富的，大量的 | |
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67
incipient
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| adj.起初的，发端的，初期的 | |
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68
stoic
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| n.坚忍克己之人，禁欲主义者 | |
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69
pane
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| n.窗格玻璃，长方块 | |
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70
plentiful
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| adj.富裕的，丰富的 | |
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71
philosophical
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| adj.哲学家的，哲学上的，达观的 | |
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72
refreshing
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| adj.使精神振作的，使人清爽的，使人喜欢的 | |
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73
meager
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| adj.缺乏的，不足的，瘦的 | |
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74
dismal
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| adj.阴沉的，凄凉的，令人忧郁的，差劲的 | |
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75
perverted
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| adj.不正当的v.滥用( pervert的过去式和过去分词 )；腐蚀；败坏；使堕落 | |
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76
mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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77
ribs
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| n.肋骨( rib的名词复数 )；（船或屋顶等的）肋拱；肋骨状的东西；（织物的）凸条花纹 | |
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78
feverish
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| adj.发烧的，狂热的，兴奋的 | |
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79
unfamiliar
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| adj.陌生的，不熟悉的 | |
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80
joints
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| 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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81
zephyr
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| n.和风，微风 | |
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82
innate
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| adj.天生的，固有的，天赋的 | |
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83
potent
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| adj.强有力的，有权势的；有效力的 | |
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84
skeptical
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|
| adj.怀疑的，多疑的 | |
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85
inevitable
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| adj.不可避免的，必然发生的 | |
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86
perverse
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| adj.刚愎的；坚持错误的，行为反常的 | |
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87
essentially
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| adv.本质上，实质上，基本上 | |
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88
aspirations
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| 强烈的愿望( aspiration的名词复数 )； 志向； 发送气音； 发 h 音 | |
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89
clogged
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| （使）阻碍( clog的过去式和过去分词 )； 淤滞 | |
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90
supernal
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| adj.天堂的，天上的；崇高的 | |
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91
maxim
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| n.格言，箴言 | |
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92
adage
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| n.格言，古训 | |
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93
frankly
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| adv.坦白地，直率地；坦率地说 | |
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94
accost
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| v.向人搭话，打招呼 | |
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95
abominate
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| v.憎恨，厌恶 | |
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96
diligent
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|
| adj.勤勉的，勤奋的 | |
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97
prunes
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| n.西梅脯，西梅干( prune的名词复数 )v.修剪（树木等）( prune的第三人称单数 )；精简某事物，除去某事物多余的部分 | |
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98
crumbs
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| int. (表示惊讶)哎呀 n. 碎屑 名词crumb的复数形式 | |
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99
cracker
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| n.（无甜味的）薄脆饼干 | |
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100
procurable
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|
| adj.可得到的，得手的 | |
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101
champagne
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| n.香槟酒；微黄色 | |
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102
oysters
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| 牡蛎( oyster的名词复数 ) | |
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103
joyful
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| adj.欢乐的，令人欢欣的 | |
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104
jaw
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| n.颚，颌，说教，流言蜚语；v.喋喋不休，教训 | |
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105
brawn
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| n.体力 | |
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106
convivial
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| adj.狂欢的，欢乐的 | |
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107
utterance
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| n.用言语表达，话语，言语 | |
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108
sublimest
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| 伟大的( sublime的最高级 )； 令人赞叹的； 极端的； 不顾后果的 | |
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109
engraved
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| v.在（硬物）上雕刻（字，画等）( engrave的过去式和过去分词 )；将某事物深深印在（记忆或头脑中） | |
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110
fatten
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| v.使肥，变肥 | |
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111
prate
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| v.瞎扯，胡说 | |
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112
soot
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| n.煤烟，烟尘；vt.熏以煤烟 | |
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113
deluded
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| v.欺骗，哄骗( delude的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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114
delude
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| vt.欺骗；哄骗 | |
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115
tempted
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| v.怂恿（某人）干不正当的事；冒…的险（tempt的过去分词） | |
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116
wards
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| 区( ward的名词复数 )； 病房； 受监护的未成年者； 被人照顾或控制的状态 | |
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117
scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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118
crackers
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| adj.精神错乱的，癫狂的n.爆竹( cracker的名词复数 )；薄脆饼干；（认为）十分愉快的事；迷人的姑娘 | |
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119
jug
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| n.(有柄，小口，可盛水等的)大壶，罐，盂 | |
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120
tonic
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| n./adj.滋补品，补药，强身的，健体的 | |
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121
inebriating
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| vt.使酒醉，灌醉（inebriate的现在分词形式） | |
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122
thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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123
rinsing
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| n.清水，残渣v.漂洗( rinse的现在分词 )；冲洗；用清水漂洗掉（肥皂泡等）；（用清水）冲掉 | |
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124
replenished
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| 补充( replenish的过去式和过去分词 )； 重新装满 | |
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125
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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126
cordon
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| n.警戒线，哨兵线 | |
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127
consecutively
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| adv.连续地 | |
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128
disastrous
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| adj.灾难性的，造成灾害的；极坏的，很糟的 | |
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129
niggardly
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| adj.吝啬的，很少的 | |
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130
rinsed
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| v.漂洗( rinse的过去式和过去分词 )；冲洗；用清水漂洗掉（肥皂泡等）；（用清水）冲掉 | |
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131
wizened
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| adj.凋谢的；枯槁的 | |
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132
butt
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| n.笑柄；烟蒂；枪托；臀部；v.用头撞或顶 | |
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133
eternity
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| n.不朽，来世；永恒，无穷 | |
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134
plank
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| n.板条，木板，政策要点，政纲条目 | |
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135
muffled
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| adj.（声音）被隔的；听不太清的；（衣服）裹严的；蒙住的v.压抑，捂住( muffle的过去式和过去分词 )；用厚厚的衣帽包着（自己） | |
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136
devoted
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| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
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137
solicitude
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| n.焦虑 | |
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138
bishop
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| n.主教，（国际象棋）象 | |
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139
cane
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| n.手杖，细长的茎，藤条；v.以杖击，以藤编制的 | |
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140
impairing
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|
| v.损害，削弱( impair的现在分词 ) | |
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141
solitude
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| n. 孤独; 独居,荒僻之地,幽静的地方 | |
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142
immediate
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| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
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143
melancholy
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| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
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144
conceals
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| v.隐藏，隐瞒，遮住( conceal的第三人称单数 ) | |
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145
twilight
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| n.暮光，黄昏；暮年，晚期，衰落时期 | |
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146
joyous
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| adj.充满快乐的；令人高兴的 | |
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147
overflowing
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| n. 溢出物,溢流 adj. 充沛的，充满的 动词overflow的现在分词形式 | |
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148
dingy
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| adj.昏暗的，肮脏的 | |
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149
whit
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| n.一点，丝毫 | |
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150
whoop
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| n.大叫，呐喊，喘息声；v.叫喊，喘息 | |
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151
savage
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| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
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152
virtue
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| n.德行，美德；贞操；优点；功效，效力 | |
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153
behold
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| v.看，注视，看到 | |
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154
writ
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| n.命令状，书面命令 | |
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155
reeking
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| v.发出浓烈的臭气( reek的现在分词 )；散发臭气；发出难闻的气味 (of sth)；明显带有（令人不快或生疑的跡象） | |
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156
frenzied
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| a.激怒的；疯狂的 | |
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157
plagiarized
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| v.剽窃，抄袭( plagiarize的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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158
pretensions
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| 自称( pretension的名词复数 )； 自命不凡； 要求； 权力 | |
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159
broth
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| n.原(汁)汤(鱼汤、肉汤、菜汤等) | |
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160
pall
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| v.覆盖，使平淡无味；n.柩衣，棺罩；棺材；帷幕 | |
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161
chattering
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| n. （机器振动发出的）咔嗒声，(鸟等)鸣，啁啾 adj. 喋喋不休的，啾啾声的 动词chatter的现在分词形式 | |
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162
tickle
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| v.搔痒，胳肢；使高兴；发痒；n.搔痒，发痒 | |
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163
coxcomb
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| n.花花公子 | |
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164
immortality
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| n.不死，不朽 | |
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165
panegyrical
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| adj.颂词的 | |
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166
brass
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| n.黄铜；黄铜器，铜管乐器 | |
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167
tinkling
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| n.丁当作响声 | |
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168
cymbal
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| n.铙钹 | |
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169
calumniated
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| v.诽谤，中伤( calumniate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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170
folly
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| n.愚笨，愚蠢，蠢事，蠢行，傻话 | |
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171
pallid
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| adj.苍白的，呆板的 | |
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172
virtuoso
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| n.精于某种艺术或乐器的专家，行家里手 | |
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173
wilted
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| （使）凋谢，枯萎( wilt的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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174
trample
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| vt.踩，践踏；无视，伤害，侵犯 | |
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175
random
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| adj.随机的；任意的；n.偶然的(或随便的)行动 | |
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176
anomalously
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177
conclusive
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| adj.最后的，结论的；确凿的，消除怀疑的 | |
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178
extremities
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| n.端点( extremity的名词复数 )；尽头；手和足；极窘迫的境地 | |
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179
peril
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| n.(严重的)危险；危险的事物 | |
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180
throbbing
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| a. 跳动的,悸动的 | |
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181
tinted
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| adj. 带色彩的 动词tint的过去式和过去分词 | |
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182
wharves
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| n.码头，停泊处( wharf的名词复数 ) | |
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183
piers
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| n.水上平台( pier的名词复数 )；（常设有娱乐场所的）突堤；柱子；墙墩 | |
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184
jingling
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| 叮当声 | |
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185
mole
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| n.胎块；痣；克分子 | |
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186
meridian
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| adj.子午线的；全盛期的 | |
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187
apex
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| n.顶点，最高点 | |
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188
Pluto
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| n.冥王星 | |
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189
utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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190
undoubtedly
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| adv.确实地，无疑地 | |
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191
primitive
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| adj.原始的；简单的；n.原(始)人，原始事物 | |
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192
bungled
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| v.搞糟，完不成( bungle的过去式和过去分词 )；笨手笨脚地做；失败；完不成 | |
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193
infinitely
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| adv.无限地，无穷地 | |
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194
sluggish
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| adj.懒惰的，迟钝的，无精打采的 | |
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195
budge
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| v.移动一点儿；改变立场 | |
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196
collapsing
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| 压扁[平]，毁坏，断裂 | |
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197
desolate
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| adj.荒凉的，荒芜的；孤独的，凄凉的；v.使荒芜，使孤寂 | |
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198
obtruded
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| v.强行向前，强行，强迫( obtrude的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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199
lessened
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| 减少的，减弱的 | |
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200
hurl
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| vt.猛投，力掷，声叫骂 | |
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201
appreciation
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| n.评价；欣赏；感谢；领会，理解；价格上涨 | |
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202
devouring
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| 吞没( devour的现在分词 )； 耗尽； 津津有味地看； 狼吞虎咽地吃光 | |
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203
profundities
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| n.深奥，深刻，深厚( profundity的名词复数 )；堂奥 | |
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204
vigor
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| n.活力，精力，元气 | |
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205
pellucid
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| adj.透明的，简单的 | |
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206
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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207
plods
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| v.沉重缓慢地走（路）( plod的第三人称单数 )；努力从事；沉闷地苦干；缓慢进行（尤指艰难枯燥的工作） | |
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208
unpacked
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| v.从（包裹等）中取出（所装的东西），打开行李取出( unpack的过去式和过去分词 )；拆包；解除…的负担；吐露（心事等） | |
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209
affronted
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| 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 | |
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210
soothingly
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| adv.抚慰地，安慰地；镇痛地 | |
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211
loathes
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| v.憎恨，厌恶( loathe的第三人称单数 )；极不喜欢 | |
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212
assassinated
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| v.暗杀( assassinate的过去式和过去分词 )；中伤；诋毁；破坏 | |
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213
slumber
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| n.睡眠，沉睡状态 | |
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214
lumbering
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| n.采伐林木 | |
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215
revolves
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| v.（使）旋转( revolve的第三人称单数 )；细想 | |
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216
repose
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| v.(使)休息；n.安息 | |
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217
exhaustion
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| n.耗尽枯竭，疲惫，筋疲力尽，竭尽，详尽无遗的论述 | |
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218
interval
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| n.间隔，间距；幕间休息，中场休息 | |
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219
beak
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| n.鸟嘴，茶壶嘴，钩形鼻 | |
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