He had never undertaken a portrait-bust which gave him so much trouble as Donatello’s; not that there was any special difficulty in hitting the likeness3, though even in this respect the grace and harmony of the features seemed inconsistent with a prominent expression of individuality; but he was chiefly perplexed4 how to make this genial5 and kind type of countenance6 the index of the mind within. His acuteness and his sympathies, indeed, were both somewhat at fault in their efforts to enlighten him as to the moral phase through which the Count was now passing. If at one sitting he caught a glimpse of what appeared to be a genuine and permanent trait, it would probably be less perceptible on a second occasion, and perhaps have vanished entirely7 at a third. So evanescent a show of character threw the sculptor into despair; not marble or clay, but cloud and vapor8, was the material in which it ought to be represented. Even the ponderous9 depression which constantly weighed upon Donatello’s heart could not compel him into the kind of repose10 which the plastic art requires.
Hopeless of a good result, Kenyon gave up all preconceptions about the character of his subject, and let his hands work uncontrolled with the clay, somewhat as a spiritual medium, while holding a pen, yields it to an unseen guidance other than that of her own will. Now and then he fancied that this plan was destined11 to be the successful one. A skill and insight beyond his consciousness seemed occasionally to take up the task. The mystery, the miracle, of imbuing12 an inanimate substance with thought, feeling, and all the intangible attributes of the soul, appeared on the verge13 of being wrought14. And now, as he flattered himself, the true image of his friend was about to emerge from the facile material, bringing with it more of Donatello’s character than the keenest observer could detect at any one moment in the face of the original Vain expectation!—some touch, whereby the artist thought to improve or hasten the result, interfered15 with the design of his unseen spiritual assistant, and spoilt the whole. There was still the moist, brown clay, indeed, and the features of Donatello, but without any semblance16 of intelligent and sympathetic life.
“The difficulty will drive me mad, I verily believe!” cried the sculptor nervously17. “Look at the wretched piece of work yourself, my dear friend, and tell me whether you recognize any manner of likeness to your inner man?”
“None,” replied Donatello, speaking the simple truth. “It is like looking a stranger in the face.”
This frankly18 unfavorable testimony19 so wrought with the sensitive artist, that he fell into a passion with the stubborn image, and cared not what might happen to it thenceforward. Wielding20 that wonderful power which sculptors21 possess over moist clay, however refractory22 it may show itself in certain respects, he compressed, elongated23, widened, and otherwise altered the features of the bust in mere24 recklessness, and at every change inquired of the Count whether the expression became anywise more satisfactory.
“Stop!” cried Donatello at last, catching25 the sculptor’s hand. “Let it remain so!” By some accidental handling of the clay, entirely independent of his own will, Kenyon had given the countenance a distorted and violent look, combining animal fierceness with intelligent hatred26. Had Hilda, or had Miriam, seen the bust, with the expression which it had now assumed, they might have recognized Donatello’s face as they beheld27 it at that terrible moment when he held his victim over the edge of the precipice28.
“What have I done?” said the sculptor, shocked at his own casual production. “It were a sin to let the clay which bears your features harden into a look like that. Cain never wore an uglier one.”
“For that very reason, let it remain!” answered the Count, who had grown pale as ashes at the aspect of his crime, thus strangely presented to him in another of the many guises29 under which guilt30 stares the criminal in the face. “Do not alter it! Chisel31 it, rather, in eternal marble! I will set it up in my oratory32 and keep it continually before my eyes. Sadder and more horrible is a face like this, alive with my own crime, than the dead skull33 which my forefathers34 handed down to me!”
But, without in the least heeding35 Donatello’s remonstrances36, the sculptor again applied37 his artful fingers to the clay, and compelled the bust to dismiss the expression that had so startled them both.
“Believe me,” said he, turning his eyes upon his friend, full of grave and tender sympathy, “you know not what is requisite38 for your spiritual growth, seeking, as you do, to keep your soul perpetually in the unwholesome region of remorse39. It was needful for you to pass through that dark valley, but it is infinitely40 dangerous to linger there too long; there is poison in the atmosphere, when we sit down and brood in it, instead of girding up our loins to press onward41. Not despondency, not slothful anguish42, is what you now require,—but effort! Has there been an unalterable evil in your young life? Then crowd it out with good, or it will lie corrupting43 there forever, and cause your capacity for better things to partake its noisome44 corruption45!”
“You stir up many thoughts,” said Donatello, pressing his hand upon his brow, “but the multitude and the whirl of them make me dizzy.”
They now left the sculptor’s temporary studio, without observing that his last accidental touches, with which he hurriedly effaced46 the look of deadly rage, had given the bust a higher and sweeter expression than it had hitherto worn. It is to be regretted that Kenyon had not seen it; for only an artist, perhaps, can conceive the irksomeness, the irritation47 of brain, the depression of spirits, that resulted from his failure to satisfy himself, after so much toil48 and thought as he had bestowed49 on Donatello’s bust. In case of success, indeed, all this thoughtful toil would have been reckoned, not only as well bestowed, but as among the happiest hours of his life; whereas, deeming himself to have failed, it was just so much of life that had better never have been lived; for thus does the good or ill result of his labor50 throw back sunshine or gloom upon the artist’s mind. The sculptor, therefore, would have done well to glance again at his work; for here were still the features of the antique Faun, but now illuminated51 with a higher meaning, such as the old marble never bore.
Donatello having quitted him, Kenyon spent the rest of the day strolling about the pleasant precincts of Monte Beni, where the summer was now so far advanced that it began, indeed, to partake of the ripe wealth of autumn. Apricots had long been abundant, and had passed away, and plums and cherries along with them. But now came great, juicy pears, melting and delicious, and peaches of goodly size and tempting52 aspect, though cold and watery53 to the palate, compared with the sculptor’s rich reminiscences of that fruit in America. The purple figs54 had already enjoyed their day, and the white ones were luscious55 now. The contadini (who, by this time, knew Kenyon well) found many clusters of ripe grapes for him, in every little globe of which was included a fragrant56 draught57 of the sunny Monte Beni wine.
Unexpectedly, in a nook close by the farmhouse58, he happened upon a spot where the vintage had actually commenced. A great heap of early ripened59 grapes had been gathered, and thrown into a mighty60 tub. In the middle of it stood a lusty and jolly contadino, nor stood, merely, but stamped with all his might, and danced amain; while the red juice bathed his feet, and threw its foam61 midway up his brown and shaggy legs. Here, then, was the very process that shows so picturesquely63 in Scripture64 and in poetry, of treading out the wine-press and dyeing the feet and garments with the crimson65 effusion as with the blood of a battlefield. The memory of the process does not make the Tuscan wine taste more deliciously. The contadini hospitably66 offered Kenyon a sample of the new liquor, that had already stood fermenting67 for a day or two. He had tried a similar draught, however, in years past, and was little inclined to make proof of it again; for he knew that it would be a sour and bitter juice, a wine of woe68 and tribulation69, and that the more a man drinks of such liquor, the sorrier he is likely to be.
The scene reminded the sculptor of our New England vintages, where the big piles of golden and rosy70 apples lie under the orchard71 trees, in the mild, autumnal sunshine; and the creaking cider-mill, set in motion by a circumgyratory horse, is all a-gush72 with the luscious juice. To speak frankly, the cider-making is the more picturesque62 sight of the two, and the new, sweet cider an infinitely better drink than the ordinary, unripe73 Tuscan wine. Such as it is, however, the latter fills thousands upon thousands of small, flat barrels, and, still growing thinner and sharper, loses the little life it had, as wine, and becomes apotheosized as a more praiseworthy vinegar.
Yet all these vineyard scenes, and the processes connected with the culture of the grape, had a flavor of poetry about them. The toil that produces those kindly74 gifts of nature which are not the substance of life, but its luxury, is unlike other toil. We are inclined to fancy that it does not bend the sturdy frame and stiffen75 the overwrought muscles, like the labor that is devoted76 in sad, hard earnest to raise grain for sour bread. Certainly, the sunburnt young men and dark-cheeked, laughing girls, who weeded the rich acres of Monte Beni, might well enough have passed for inhabitants of an unsophisticated Arcadia. Later in the season, when the true vintage time should come, and the wine of Sunshine gush into the vats77, it was hardly too wild a dream that Bacchus himself might revisit the haunts which he loved of old. But, alas78! where now would he find the Faun with whom we see him consorting79 in so many an antique group?
Donatello’s remorseful80 anguish saddened this primitive81 and delightful82 life. Kenyon had a pain of his own, moreover, although not all a pain, in the never quiet, never satisfied yearning83 of his heart towards Hilda. He was authorized84 to use little freedom towards that shy maiden85, even in his visions; so that he almost reproached himself when sometimes his imagination pictured in detail the sweet years that they might spend together, in a retreat like this. It had just that rarest quality of remoteness from the actual and ordinary world B a remoteness through which all delights might visit them freely, sifted86 from all troubles—which lovers so reasonably insist upon, in their ideal arrangements for a happy union. It is possible, indeed, that even Donatello’s grief and Kenyon’s pale, sunless affection lent a charm to Monte Beni, which it would not have retained amid a more abundant joyousness87. The sculptor strayed amid its vineyards and orchards88, its dells and tangled89 shrubberies, with somewhat the sensations of an adventurer who should find his way to the site of ancient Eden, and behold90 its loveliness through the transparency of that gloom which has been brooding over those haunts of innocence91 ever since the fall. Adam saw it in a brighter sunshine, but never knew the shade of Pensive92 beauty which Eden won from his expulsion.
It was in the decline of the afternoon that Kenyon returned from his long, musing93 ramble94, Old Tomaso—between whom and himself for some time past there had been a mysterious understanding,—met him in the entrance hall, and drew him a little aside.
“The signorina would speak with you,” he whispered.
“No; in the saloon beyond it,” answered the butler: “the entrance you once saw the signorina appear through it is near the altar, hidden behind the tapestry96.”
Kenyon lost no time in obeying the summons.
点击收听单词发音
1 bust | |
vt.打破;vi.爆裂;n.半身像;胸部 | |
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2 sculptor | |
n.雕刻家,雕刻家 | |
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3 likeness | |
n.相像,相似(之处) | |
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4 perplexed | |
adj.不知所措的 | |
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5 genial | |
adj.亲切的,和蔼的,愉快的,脾气好的 | |
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6 countenance | |
n.脸色,面容;面部表情;vt.支持,赞同 | |
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7 entirely | |
ad.全部地,完整地;完全地,彻底地 | |
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8 vapor | |
n.蒸汽,雾气 | |
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9 ponderous | |
adj.沉重的,笨重的,(文章)冗长的 | |
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10 repose | |
v.(使)休息;n.安息 | |
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11 destined | |
adj.命中注定的;(for)以…为目的地的 | |
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12 imbuing | |
v.使(某人/某事)充满或激起(感情等)( imbue的现在分词 );使充满;灌输;激发(强烈感情或品质等) | |
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13 verge | |
n.边,边缘;v.接近,濒临 | |
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14 wrought | |
v.引起;以…原料制作;运转;adj.制造的 | |
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15 interfered | |
v.干预( interfere的过去式和过去分词 );调停;妨碍;干涉 | |
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16 semblance | |
n.外貌,外表 | |
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17 nervously | |
adv.神情激动地,不安地 | |
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18 frankly | |
adv.坦白地,直率地;坦率地说 | |
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19 testimony | |
n.证词;见证,证明 | |
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20 wielding | |
手持着使用(武器、工具等)( wield的现在分词 ); 具有; 运用(权力); 施加(影响) | |
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21 sculptors | |
雕刻家,雕塑家( sculptor的名词复数 ); [天]玉夫座 | |
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22 refractory | |
adj.倔强的,难驾驭的 | |
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23 elongated | |
v.延长,加长( elongate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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24 mere | |
adj.纯粹的;仅仅,只不过 | |
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25 catching | |
adj.易传染的,有魅力的,迷人的,接住 | |
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26 hatred | |
n.憎恶,憎恨,仇恨 | |
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27 beheld | |
v.看,注视( behold的过去式和过去分词 );瞧;看呀;(叙述中用于引出某人意外的出现)哎哟 | |
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28 precipice | |
n.悬崖,危急的处境 | |
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29 guises | |
n.外观,伪装( guise的名词复数 )v.外观,伪装( guise的第三人称单数 ) | |
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30 guilt | |
n.犯罪;内疚;过失,罪责 | |
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31 chisel | |
n.凿子;v.用凿子刻,雕,凿 | |
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32 oratory | |
n.演讲术;词藻华丽的言辞 | |
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33 skull | |
n.头骨;颅骨 | |
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34 forefathers | |
n.祖先,先人;祖先,祖宗( forefather的名词复数 );列祖列宗;前人 | |
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35 heeding | |
v.听某人的劝告,听从( heed的现在分词 ) | |
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36 remonstrances | |
n.抱怨,抗议( remonstrance的名词复数 ) | |
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37 applied | |
adj.应用的;v.应用,适用 | |
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38 requisite | |
adj.需要的,必不可少的;n.必需品 | |
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39 remorse | |
n.痛恨,悔恨,自责 | |
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40 infinitely | |
adv.无限地,无穷地 | |
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41 onward | |
adj.向前的,前进的;adv.向前,前进,在先 | |
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42 anguish | |
n.(尤指心灵上的)极度痛苦,烦恼 | |
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43 corrupting | |
(使)败坏( corrupt的现在分词 ); (使)腐化; 引起(计算机文件等的)错误; 破坏 | |
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44 noisome | |
adj.有害的,可厌的 | |
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45 corruption | |
n.腐败,堕落,贪污 | |
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46 effaced | |
v.擦掉( efface的过去式和过去分词 );抹去;超越;使黯然失色 | |
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47 irritation | |
n.激怒,恼怒,生气 | |
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48 toil | |
vi.辛劳工作,艰难地行动;n.苦工,难事 | |
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49 bestowed | |
赠给,授予( bestow的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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50 labor | |
n.劳动,努力,工作,劳工;分娩;vi.劳动,努力,苦干;vt.详细分析;麻烦 | |
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51 illuminated | |
adj.被照明的;受启迪的 | |
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52 tempting | |
a.诱人的, 吸引人的 | |
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53 watery | |
adj.有水的,水汪汪的;湿的,湿润的 | |
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54 figs | |
figures 数字,图形,外形 | |
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55 luscious | |
adj.美味的;芬芳的;肉感的,引与性欲的 | |
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56 fragrant | |
adj.芬香的,馥郁的,愉快的 | |
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57 draught | |
n.拉,牵引,拖;一网(饮,吸,阵);顿服药量,通风;v.起草,设计 | |
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58 farmhouse | |
n.农场住宅(尤指主要住房) | |
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59 ripened | |
v.成熟,使熟( ripen的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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60 mighty | |
adj.强有力的;巨大的 | |
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61 foam | |
v./n.泡沫,起泡沫 | |
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62 picturesque | |
adj.美丽如画的,(语言)生动的,绘声绘色的 | |
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63 picturesquely | |
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64 scripture | |
n.经文,圣书,手稿;Scripture:(常用复数)《圣经》,《圣经》中的一段 | |
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65 crimson | |
n./adj.深(绯)红色(的);vi.脸变绯红色 | |
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66 hospitably | |
亲切地,招待周到地,善于款待地 | |
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67 fermenting | |
v.(使)发酵( ferment的现在分词 );(使)激动;骚动;骚扰 | |
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68 woe | |
n.悲哀,苦痛,不幸,困难;int.用来表达悲伤或惊慌 | |
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69 tribulation | |
n.苦难,灾难 | |
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70 rosy | |
adj.美好的,乐观的,玫瑰色的 | |
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71 orchard | |
n.果园,果园里的全部果树,(美俚)棒球场 | |
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72 gush | |
v.喷,涌;滔滔不绝(说话);n.喷,涌流;迸发 | |
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73 unripe | |
adj.未成熟的;n.未成熟 | |
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74 kindly | |
adj.和蔼的,温和的,爽快的;adv.温和地,亲切地 | |
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75 stiffen | |
v.(使)硬,(使)变挺,(使)变僵硬 | |
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76 devoted | |
adj.忠诚的,忠实的,热心的,献身于...的 | |
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77 vats | |
varieties 变化,多样性,种类 | |
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78 alas | |
int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
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79 consorting | |
v.结伴( consort的现在分词 );交往;相称;调和 | |
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80 remorseful | |
adj.悔恨的 | |
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81 primitive | |
adj.原始的;简单的;n.原(始)人,原始事物 | |
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82 delightful | |
adj.令人高兴的,使人快乐的 | |
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83 yearning | |
a.渴望的;向往的;怀念的 | |
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84 authorized | |
a.委任的,许可的 | |
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85 maiden | |
n.少女,处女;adj.未婚的,纯洁的,无经验的 | |
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86 sifted | |
v.筛( sift的过去式和过去分词 );筛滤;细查;详审 | |
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87 joyousness | |
快乐,使人喜悦 | |
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88 orchards | |
(通常指围起来的)果园( orchard的名词复数 ) | |
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89 tangled | |
adj. 纠缠的,紊乱的 动词tangle的过去式和过去分词 | |
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90 behold | |
v.看,注视,看到 | |
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91 innocence | |
n.无罪;天真;无害 | |
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92 pensive | |
a.沉思的,哀思的,忧沉的 | |
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93 musing | |
n. 沉思,冥想 adj. 沉思的, 冥想的 动词muse的现在分词形式 | |
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94 ramble | |
v.漫步,漫谈,漫游;n.漫步,闲谈,蔓延 | |
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95 chapel | |
n.小教堂,殡仪馆 | |
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96 tapestry | |
n.挂毯,丰富多采的画面 | |
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