Porlock has for “ever so long” been a show place, and, like any other originally modest beauty, has at last become a little spoiled by praise, and more than a little sophisticated. We do not 248greatly esteem2 the self-conscious beauty, especially when she paints.
The charm of Porlock has been, and is being, still more sadly smirched by expansion and by that increasing intercourse3 with the world which has taken the accent off the tongues of the villagers, replaced the weirdly4 cut provincial6 clothes of an earlier era with garments of a more modish7 style, and brought buildings of a distinctly suburban8 type into the once purely9 rustic10 street. But these newer buildings, although sufficiently11 odious12, do not by any means touch the depths of abomination plumbed13 by the local Wesleyan Methodist Chapel14, built in the ’30’s, and fully15 as bad, in its grey stuccoed, would-be classicism, as that date would imply.
The coming of the motor-car has been nothing less than a disaster to Porlock. Not only private cars, growing ever larger and more productive of dust, noise, and stink16, rush through the once sweet-scented street, regardless of the comfort and convenience of villagers or visitors, but “public service” vehicles and chars-à-bancs as big as houses slam through the place, raising a stifling17 dust that penetrates18 everywhere. Few sights are more distressing19, to those who knew Porlock as it was, than that of the clustered roses and jessamines that mantle20 so many of the houses, thickly covered with dust. It is a standing21 wonder that the inhabitants of pretty villages plagued almost beyond endurance by motorists do not arise and compel County Councils and other authorities to 249take action. Possibly they know only too well that the majority of members of those Councils is formed by owners of cars, who are themselves among the worst offenders22.
But, in any case, the simple old days of Porlock are done. To have seen Porlock with Southey, how great that privilege! Great, not only in the literary way, but in a glimpse of it in its unspoiled, unconscious beauty, before ever it had become notable as a show-place.
Local connoisseurs23 of the picturesque24 prefer Bossington, now that Porlock is worn a little threadbare and grown so dusty. They are of opinion that Bossington is the quainter25 of the two. But to come to judgment26 in this frame is not wholly in order, for the places are of such different types, and cannot fairly be compared. Porlock is a considerable village, with numerous shops; and Bossington is but a hamlet, without a church, and apparently27 with no shops at all. It is a very sequestered28 place, standing on the Horner, about a mile distant, north-eastward, from Porlock. The great recommendations of Bossington in these latter days are that motor-cars never or rarely get there, and that it is by consequence quiet and dustless. Porlock is on the main road—on the way to that Somewhere Else which is ever your typical motorist’s quest: a quest he relinquishes29 at night, only to resume it the next morning. Bossington stands in the way to Nowhere in Particular, and the roads that lead to it are less roads than lanes. That they may 250long continue their narrow, rough, and winding30 character is the wish of those who wish Bossington well.
BOSSINGTON.
For the rest, it is pre-eminently a hamlet of chimneys. The chimneys of Porlock are themselves a remarkable31 feature of that place, but at Bossington they are the feature. They are all of a remarkable height. There are coroneted chimneys; round chimneys, with pots and without; chimneys square, and chimneys finished off with slates32 set up (as wind-breakers) at an angle, something like a simple problem in Euclid. The next great feature of Bossington is its immense walnut-tree, whose trunk measures sixteen feet in circumference33. This is the chieftain of all the many walnut-trees that flourish in the neighbourhood.
251The modern Wesleyan Chapel of Bossington puts its stuccoed brother at Porlock to shame. It is a pretty building, designed in good taste, built of stone banded with blue brick, and is finished off with a quaintly34 louvred turret35. Not even the neighbouring restored chapel of Lynch, rescued from desecration36 by the late Sir Thomas Dyke37 Acland, looks more worshipful.
Bossington street, irregularly fringed with rustic cottages, and with the Horner on one side fleeting38 amid its pebbles39 to the sea, is as unconventional as a farmyard, and ends at last on the great shingle-bank of Porlock Bay, where two or three ruined old houses stand against the skyline and look as if they had known stirring incidents of shipwreck41 and smuggling42, as indeed they probably have, in abundance.
Smuggling was the chief occupation of Porlock and its surroundings in Southey’s time. The lonely beach of huge pebbles that stretches between Porlock Weir5 and Bossington, with low-lying, marshy43 meadows giving upon it, was most frequently the scene of goods being landed secretly and thence dispersed44 into the surrounding country. The Revenue officials knew so well that smuggling was carried on largely that it behoved the “free-traders” to be at especial pains to baffle them. Some of their ingeniously constructed hiding-holes have not been unearthed45 until comparatively recent years. Thus, in so unlikely a situation as the middle of a field, a smugglers’ store-chamber was found in course of ploughing, 252between Porlock and Bossington. Again, it was left to modern times for a smugglers’ hiding-hole in the picturesque farmhouse46 of Higher Doverhay to be discovered. This ingenious place of concealment47 for contraband48 goods had been constructed by the simple process of building a false outer wall parallel with the real wall of the farmhouse, leaving a narrow space between. When discovered the shelves with which this recess49 was fitted, for the reception of spirit-kegs, were still there; but the spirits themselves had departed.
The church of Porlock, dedicated50 to St. Dubritius, is generally regarded by visitors as an architectural joke. It is the curiously51 truncated52 shingled53 broach54 spire55 that produces this derogatory view. It is understood that the local clergy56, seriously exercised in their minds about this attitude of unseemly mirth, would greatly like to rebuild tower and spire. But guidebooks and visitors alike, placing such stress upon this alleged57 grotesqueness58, are quite wrong. The spire, as it is, has that all-too-rare thing, character, and it is a joy to the artist, and something on which visitors can exercise their wits. In short, Porlock would be a good deal less than its old self were it abolished. With the huge and dilapidated churchyard yew59, and the tall neighbouring cross, the old church, as a whole, forms a striking motif60 for a sketch61.
PORLOCK CHURCH.
The most notable feature of the interior is the noble altar-tomb of the fourth Baron62 Harington 253of Aldingham, and his wife, Elizabeth Courtenay, daughter of the Earl of Devon, who died respectively in 1417 and 1472. She married, secondly63, Lord Bonvile, of Chewton, but chose to lie here; and here, in finely sculptured effigies64, they are represented, the noble helmeted and in complete armour65, and his lady with tall mitre headdress and coronet.
Guide-books tell of the “curious epitaphs” at Porlock, but they are not so curious as might thus be supposed; certainly not more so than those of the average country churchyard. The chief feature of these is their ungrammatical character, as where we read of Henry Pulsford and Richard Bale, “who was both drownd” at “Lymouth,” in 1784. Poetry—or rather, verse—that changed, in arbitrary fashion, from first person to third, was still possible in 1860, as witness these unpleasant lines upon one Thomas Fry:
For many weeks my friends did see
Approaching death attending me.
No favour could his body find,
Till in the earth it was confined,
The “Ship” inn is almost, if not even quite, as well known a feature of Porlock as the church, and is unaltered since Southey sheltered here considerably67 over a hundred years ago—
By the unwelcome summer rain confined.
The thatch68 has, of course, been renewed from time to time, but always in the old traditional 254style, and the white walls are obviously what they were a couple of centuries or more ago. The oldest part of the inn is probably a curious little trefoiled-headed wooden window, of semi-ecclesiastical design, under the eaves.
INGLENOOK, “SHIP” INN, PORLOCK.
Southey sat in the little parlour still existing, and, by the inglenook that has fortunately been preserved, wrote the oft-quoted lines:
Thy lofty hills, which fern and furze embrown,
Thy waters, that roll musically down
Thy woody glens, the traveller with delight
Recalls to memory, and the channel grey
Circling it, surging in thy level bay.
255
“THE SHIP” INN, PORLOCK.
A small window in this chimney-corner commands a view up the road, just as of old, where the famed “Porlock Hill” begins that steep and long-continued rise which has made it known, far and near, as “the worst hill in the West of England.” This is a mile-long rise from Porlock Vale to the wild, exposed tableland that stretches, for seven miles, to Countisbury, where it descends70 steeply to Lynmouth. The rise of Porlock Hill is one thousand feet, but the tableland beyond it rises yet another 378 feet by Culbone Hill. The gradient of Porlock Hill is in parts as steep as one in six, and the surface is always, at all seasons of the year, bad in the extreme. A sharp bend to the right appears, a little way uphill. In summer a mass of red dust six or eight inches deep, and plentifully71 mixed with large stones, it is in winter a pudding-like mixture of a clayey nature. The spectacle of heavy-laden coaches toiling72 up this fearsome so-called “road” is a distressing one for those who love horses, and grieve to see them overtaxed. No cyclist could, of course, hope to ride up, while none but a madman would attempt to ride down.
A private road, however, engineered some forty years ago by Colonel Blathwayt through his domain73 of Whitestone Park, ascends74 the hillsides by a long series of zigzags75, and thus admits of easy gradients. The distance is twice as long, but the ruling gradient is only one in ten, and the surface is good. The scenery also—the “New Road,” as it is called, running through 256woodlands for the most part—is much preferable to that of the old road. In order to provide funds for keeping this “New Road” in repair, certain tolls76 are payable77: a penny for a cycle or a saddle-horse; fourpence for carriages, etc., with one horse, and threepence for every additional horse; and a shilling for motor-cars.
But, before leaving Porlock behind, it will be well to visit Porlock Weir. Porlock Weir, or Quay78, as some style it, is the port of Porlock. It is not, commercially speaking, much of a port, for the basin is neither large nor deep, and only the smallest of sailing-vessels79 may enter it.
As you come along the mile and a half of pretty country road that leads from Porlock to Porlock Weir, passing many remarkably80 picturesque cob-walled and thatch-roofed cottages on the way, you catch glimpses of the kind of place this port is. Porlock Bay lies open to the view, and is revealed as a two-and-a-quarter mile semicircular sweep of naked pebble-ridge between Hurlstone Point and Gore81 Point. Under the last-named wooded bluff82, which forms the buttress83, so to speak, on which rests the romantic domain of Ashley Combe, the village and harbour of Porlock Weir are snugly84 placed. “Weir” stands, in the minds of most people, for a foaming85 waterfall on a river; but there is no stream whatever at this place, and the harbour that has been given the name is just a natural basin formed by a long-continued action of the tides in heaping up a great impervious86 outer bank of pebbles under 257this protecting bluff, where the bay finds its western termination. Left to itself, the trench-like inlet thus formed would fill automatically with every flood-tide, and empty again with the ebb40; but the mouth of it was closed, perhaps three centuries ago, by a wall and sluice-gates, by which the water could, at ebb, be kept in the harbour so easily constructed. That is Porlock Weir, upon whose primitive87 quays88 look a few picturesquely89 dilapidated waterside buildings. The spot is quiet and delightfully90 unconventional, and is frequented in summer by visitors who appreciate those qualities and the sea-fishing that is to be had off the beach. The old “Ship” inn is a counterpart of that hostelry of the same name at Porlock, and is generally old-fashioned and delightful91. You catch a glimpse of copper92 warming-pans as you pass, and are in receipt of an impression of that kind of comfort which was the last thing in innkeeping life of the late eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries.
The “Anchor Hotel” is a gabled building, obviously built about 1885, when architects found salvation93 in gables, red-brick, rough-cast plaster, and a general Queen Annean attitude. Besides these, there stands an omnium gatherum shop that will supply you at one end of the scale with a ton of coals and any reasonable requirement in fodder94 and corn-chandlery, or with a pennyworth of acid-drops at the other. The romantic-looking old cottages that face the road and have quaintly peaked combs to their thatches95, display 258luxuriant gardens in front, and the sea on occasion clamours for entrance at the back; for it can be very rough here at times, as the pebble-ridge heaped up against the stout96 sea-wall protecting the road sufficiently witnesses.
The little harbour, although apparently so derelict, is not altogether a thing of the past, for Porlock is some seven miles distant from any railway, and it still remains97 cheaper to bring coals into the place by sea than by any other method. And this, it would seem, must always be the case, for coal comes to Porlock direct from the quays of the South Wales coalfields. But, except for this class of goods, and for a few other miscellaneous and casual items, the harbour of Porlock Weir is nowadays practically deserted98. It forms a curious spectacle. Old vessels lie rotting in the ooze99, with no one to clear away their discredited100 carcases; the Caerleon of Bridgwater, lying at the quay awaiting a discharge of her cargo101 of coals, the only craft obviously in commission.
PORLOCK WEIR.
Life certainly does not run with a strong current at Porlock Weir. Overnight you may see jerseyed seafaring men sitting in a row on a waterside bench, their backs supported by a convenient wall. They are engaged in contemplating102 nothing in particular. Vacuity103 of mind is set upon their countenances104, and expresses itself in their very attitudes, hands drooping105 listlessly over knees, heads sunk upon chests. There they have sat, with intervals106 for refreshment107, all day, 259and there they are sitting as twilight108 fades away into darkness. When the visitor comes down to breakfast at the “Anchor” or the “Ship” opposite, they are discovered in the selfsame place and in the same attitudes as before. They seem to hold constant session, but rarely speak; not because they hold silence to be golden, but for the simple reason that all subjects are exhausted109.
This silent companionship is not often broken, the chief occasions of the break-up being those exciting times when some terrified, panting, hunted stag comes fleeting down out of the woods with the yelping110 hounds at his heels. The sea is the harried111 creature’s last resort, and in it he is generally lassoed and dragged to shore, where the hounds tear the unfortunate beast to pieces, amid interested crowds of onlookers112. Such is “sport.”
But this death of the stag on Porlock beach is now very much a thing of the past, since the strong line of fencing that runs through the woods of Ashley Combe and Culbone, as far as Glenthorne, has come into existence, preventing the fugitive113 stags from taking this last desperate refuge. Nowadays, more commonly, they take to the water at the eastern end of the beach, coming down through the Horner valley to Bossington. Here, then, the hunt often ends, and spectators are treated to the extraordinary sight of huntsmen in scarlet114 clambering about the rocks of Orestone Point, or wading115 in hunting boots in the sea.
点击收听单词发音
1 tilts | |
(意欲赢得某物或战胜某人的)企图,尝试( tilt的名词复数 ) | |
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2 esteem | |
n.尊敬,尊重;vt.尊重,敬重;把…看作 | |
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3 intercourse | |
n.性交;交流,交往,交际 | |
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4 weirdly | |
古怪地 | |
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5 weir | |
n.堰堤,拦河坝 | |
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6 provincial | |
adj.省的,地方的;n.外省人,乡下人 | |
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7 modish | |
adj.流行的,时髦的 | |
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8 suburban | |
adj.城郊的,在郊区的 | |
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9 purely | |
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10 rustic | |
adj.乡村的,有乡村特色的;n.乡下人,乡巴佬 | |
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11 sufficiently | |
adv.足够地,充分地 | |
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12 odious | |
adj.可憎的,讨厌的 | |
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13 plumbed | |
v.经历( plumb的过去式和过去分词 );探究;用铅垂线校正;用铅锤测量 | |
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14 chapel | |
n.小教堂,殡仪馆 | |
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15 fully | |
adv.完全地,全部地,彻底地;充分地 | |
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16 stink | |
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17 stifling | |
a.令人窒息的 | |
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18 penetrates | |
v.穿过( penetrate的第三人称单数 );刺入;了解;渗透 | |
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19 distressing | |
a.使人痛苦的 | |
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20 mantle | |
n.斗篷,覆罩之物,罩子;v.罩住,覆盖,脸红 | |
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21 standing | |
n.持续,地位;adj.永久的,不动的,直立的,不流动的 | |
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22 offenders | |
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23 connoisseurs | |
n.鉴赏家,鉴定家,行家( connoisseur的名词复数 ) | |
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24 picturesque | |
adj.美丽如画的,(语言)生动的,绘声绘色的 | |
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25 quainter | |
adj.古色古香的( quaint的比较级 );少见的,古怪的 | |
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26 judgment | |
n.审判;判断力,识别力,看法,意见 | |
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27 apparently | |
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28 sequestered | |
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29 relinquishes | |
交出,让给( relinquish的第三人称单数 ); 放弃 | |
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30 winding | |
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31 remarkable | |
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32 slates | |
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33 circumference | |
n.圆周,周长,圆周线 | |
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34 quaintly | |
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35 turret | |
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36 desecration | |
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37 dyke | |
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38 fleeting | |
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39 pebbles | |
[复数]鹅卵石; 沙砾; 卵石,小圆石( pebble的名词复数 ) | |
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40 ebb | |
vi.衰退,减退;n.处于低潮,处于衰退状态 | |
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41 shipwreck | |
n.船舶失事,海难 | |
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42 smuggling | |
n.走私 | |
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43 marshy | |
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44 dispersed | |
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45 unearthed | |
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46 farmhouse | |
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47 concealment | |
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48 contraband | |
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49 recess | |
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50 dedicated | |
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51 curiously | |
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52 truncated | |
adj.切去顶端的,缩短了的,被删节的v.截面的( truncate的过去式和过去分词 );截头的;缩短了的;截去顶端或末端 | |
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53 shingled | |
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54 broach | |
v.开瓶,提出(题目) | |
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55 spire | |
n.(教堂)尖顶,尖塔,高点 | |
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56 clergy | |
n.[总称]牧师,神职人员 | |
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57 alleged | |
a.被指控的,嫌疑的 | |
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58 grotesqueness | |
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59 yew | |
n.紫杉属树木 | |
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60 motif | |
n.(图案的)基本花纹,(衣服的)花边;主题 | |
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61 sketch | |
n.草图;梗概;素描;v.素描;概述 | |
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62 baron | |
n.男爵;(商业界等)巨头,大王 | |
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63 secondly | |
adv.第二,其次 | |
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64 effigies | |
n.(人的)雕像,模拟像,肖像( effigy的名词复数 ) | |
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65 armour | |
(=armor)n.盔甲;装甲部队 | |
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66 forth | |
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67 considerably | |
adv.极大地;相当大地;在很大程度上 | |
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68 thatch | |
vt.用茅草覆盖…的顶部;n.茅草(屋) | |
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69 verdant | |
adj.翠绿的,青翠的,生疏的,不老练的 | |
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70 descends | |
v.下来( descend的第三人称单数 );下去;下降;下斜 | |
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71 plentifully | |
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72 toiling | |
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73 domain | |
n.(活动等)领域,范围;领地,势力范围 | |
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74 ascends | |
v.上升,攀登( ascend的第三人称单数 ) | |
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75 zigzags | |
n.锯齿形的线条、小径等( zigzag的名词复数 )v.弯弯曲曲地走路,曲折地前进( zigzag的第三人称单数 ) | |
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76 tolls | |
(缓慢而有规律的)钟声( toll的名词复数 ); 通行费; 损耗; (战争、灾难等造成的)毁坏 | |
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77 payable | |
adj.可付的,应付的,有利益的 | |
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78 quay | |
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79 vessels | |
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80 remarkably | |
ad.不同寻常地,相当地 | |
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81 gore | |
n.凝血,血污;v.(动物)用角撞伤,用牙刺破;缝以补裆;顶 | |
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82 bluff | |
v.虚张声势,用假象骗人;n.虚张声势,欺骗 | |
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83 buttress | |
n.支撑物;v.支持 | |
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84 snugly | |
adv.紧贴地;贴身地;暖和舒适地;安适地 | |
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85 foaming | |
adj.布满泡沫的;发泡 | |
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86 impervious | |
adj.不能渗透的,不能穿过的,不易伤害的 | |
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87 primitive | |
adj.原始的;简单的;n.原(始)人,原始事物 | |
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88 quays | |
码头( quay的名词复数 ) | |
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89 picturesquely | |
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90 delightfully | |
大喜,欣然 | |
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91 delightful | |
adj.令人高兴的,使人快乐的 | |
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92 copper | |
n.铜;铜币;铜器;adj.铜(制)的;(紫)铜色的 | |
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93 salvation | |
n.(尤指基督)救世,超度,拯救,解困 | |
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94 fodder | |
n.草料;炮灰 | |
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95 thatches | |
n.(稻草、芦苇等盖的)茅草屋顶( thatch的名词复数 );乱蓬蓬的头发,又脏又乱的头发 | |
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97 remains | |
n.剩余物,残留物;遗体,遗迹 | |
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98 deserted | |
adj.荒芜的,荒废的,无人的,被遗弃的 | |
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99 ooze | |
n.软泥,渗出物;vi.渗出,泄漏;vt.慢慢渗出,流露 | |
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100 discredited | |
不足信的,不名誉的 | |
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101 cargo | |
n.(一只船或一架飞机运载的)货物 | |
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102 contemplating | |
深思,细想,仔细考虑( contemplate的现在分词 ); 注视,凝视; 考虑接受(发生某事的可能性); 深思熟虑,沉思,苦思冥想 | |
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103 vacuity | |
n.(想象力等)贫乏,无聊,空白 | |
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104 countenances | |
n.面容( countenance的名词复数 );表情;镇静;道义支持 | |
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105 drooping | |
adj. 下垂的,无力的 动词droop的现在分词 | |
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106 intervals | |
n.[军事]间隔( interval的名词复数 );间隔时间;[数学]区间;(戏剧、电影或音乐会的)幕间休息 | |
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107 refreshment | |
n.恢复,精神爽快,提神之事物;(复数)refreshments:点心,茶点 | |
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108 twilight | |
n.暮光,黄昏;暮年,晚期,衰落时期 | |
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109 exhausted | |
adj.极其疲惫的,精疲力尽的 | |
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110 yelping | |
v.发出短而尖的叫声( yelp的现在分词 ) | |
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111 harried | |
v.使苦恼( harry的过去式和过去分词 );不断烦扰;一再袭击;侵扰 | |
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112 onlookers | |
n.旁观者,观看者( onlooker的名词复数 ) | |
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113 fugitive | |
adj.逃亡的,易逝的;n.逃犯,逃亡者 | |
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114 scarlet | |
n.深红色,绯红色,红衣;adj.绯红色的 | |
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115 wading | |
(从水、泥等)蹚,走过,跋( wade的现在分词 ) | |
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