All was silence on board the ship. In their fetid cage below decks the rowers slept where they sat, chained, on their [Pg 270]narrow benches. On deck the sailors lay sleeping or sat in little groups playing at dice14. The fore-part of the deck was reserved, it seemed, for passengers of distinction. Two figures, a man and a woman, were reclining there on couches, their faces and half-bared limbs flushed in the coloured shadow that was thrown by the great red awning15 stretched above them.
It was a nobleman, the sailors had heard, and his mistress that they had on board. They had taken their passage at Scanderoon, and were homeward bound for Spain. Proud as sin these Spaniards were; the man treated them like slaves or dogs. As for the woman, she was well enough, but they could find as good a face and pair of breasts in their native Genoa. If anyone so much as looked at her from half the ship’s length away it sent her possessor into a rage. He had struck one man for smiling at her. Damned Catalonian, as jealous as a stag; they wished him the stag’s horns as well as its temper.
It was intensely hot even under the awning. The man woke from his uneasy [Pg 271]sleep and reached out to where on a little table beside him stood a deep silver cup of mixed wine and water. He drank a gulp16 of it; it was as warm as blood and hardly cooled his throat. He turned over and, leaning on his elbow, looked at his companion. She on her back, quietly breathing through parted lips, still asleep. He leaned across and pinched her on the breast, so that she woke up with a sudden start and cry of pain.
“Why did you wake me?” she asked.
He laughed and shrugged17 his shoulders. He had, indeed, had no reason for doing so, except that he did not like it that she should be comfortably asleep, while he was awake and unpleasantly conscious of the heat.
“It is hotter than ever,” he said, with a kind of gloomy satisfaction at the thought that she would now have to suffer the same discomforts18 as himself. “The wine scorches19 instead of cooling; the sun seems no lower down the sky.”
The woman pouted20. “You pinched me cruelly,” she said. “And I still do not know why you wanted to wake me.”
[Pg 272]
He smiled again, this time with a good-humoured lasciviousness21. “I wanted to kiss you,” he said. He passed his hand over her body possessively, as a man might caress22 a dog.
Suddenly the quiet of the afternoon was shattered. A great clamour rose up, ragged23 and uneven24, on the air. Shrill25 yells pierced the dull rumbling26 growl27 of bass28 voices, pierced the sound of beaten drums and hammered metal.
“What are they doing in the town?” asked the woman anxiously of her lover.
“God knows,” he answered. “Perhaps the heathen hounds are making some trouble with our men.”
He got up and walked to the rail of the ship. A quarter of a mile away, across the smooth water of the bay, stood the little African town at which they had stopped to call. The sunlight showed everything with a hard and merciless definition. Sky, palms, white houses, domes30, and towers seemed as though made from some hard enamelled metal. A ridge31 of low red hills rolled away to right and left. The sunshine gave to everything in the scene the same [Pg 273]clarity of detail, so that to the eye of the onlooker32 there was no impression of distance. The whole thing seemed to be painted in flat upon a single plane.
The young man returned to his couch under the awning and lay down. It was hotter than ever, or seemed so, at least, since he had made the exertion33 of getting up. He thought of high cool pastures in the hills, with the pleasant sound of streams, far down and out of sight in their deep channels. He thought of winds that were fresh and scented—winds that were not mere29 breaths of dust and fire. He thought of the shade of cypresses34, a narrow opaque35 strip of darkness; and he thought too of the green coolness, more diffused36 and fluid and transparent, of chestnut37 groves38. And he thought of the people he remembered sitting under the trees—young people, gay and brightly dressed, whose life was all gaiety and deliciousness. There were the songs that they sang—he recalled the voices and the dancing of the strings39. And there were perfumes and, when one drew closer, the faint intoxicating40 fragrance41 of a woman’s body. He thought of [Pg 274]the stories they told; one in particular came to his mind, a capital tale of a sorcerer who offered to change a peasant’s wife into a mare42, and how he gulled44 the husband and enjoyed the woman before his eyes, and the delightful45 excuses he made when she failed to change her shape. He smiled to himself at the thought of it, and stretching out a hand touched his mistress. Her bosom2 was soft to his fingers and damp with sweat; he had an unpleasant notion that she was melting in the heat.
“Why do you touch me?” she asked.
He made no reply, but turned away from her. He wondered how it would come to pass that people would rise again in the body. It seemed curious, considering the manifest activities of worms. And suppose one rose in the body that one possessed46 in age. He shuddered47, picturing to himself what this woman would be like when she was sixty, seventy. She would be beyond words repulsive49. Old men too were horrible. They stank50, and their eyes were rheumy and rosiny, like the eyes of deer. He decided51 that he would kill himself before he grew old. He was eight-and-twenty now. He would [Pg 275]give himself twelve years more. Then he would end it. His thoughts dimmed and faded away into sleep.
The woman looked at him as he slept. He was a good man, she thought, though sometimes cruel. He was different from all the other men she had known. Once, when she was sixteen and a beginner in the business of love, she had thought that all men were always drunk when they made love. They were all dirty and like beasts; she had felt herself superior to them. But this man was a nobleman. She could not understand him; his thoughts were always obscure. She felt herself infinitely52 inferior to him. She was afraid of him and his occasional cruelty; but still he was a good man, and he might do what he liked with her.
From far off came the sound of oars53, a rhythmical6 splash and creak. Somebody shouted, and from startlingly close at hand one of the sailors hallooed back.
The young man woke up with a start.
“What is it?” he asked, turning with an angry look to the girl, as though he held her to be responsible for this breaking in upon his slumbers54.
[Pg 276]
“The boat, I think,” she said. “It must be coming back from the shore.”
The boat’s crew came up over the side, and all the stagnant55 life of the ship flowed excitedly round them. They were the centre of a vortex towards which all were drawn56. Even the young Catalonian, for all his hatred57 of these stinking58 Genoese shipmen, was sucked into the eddy59. Everybody was talking at once, and in the general hubbub60 of question and answer there was nothing coherent to be made out. Piercingly distinct above all the noise came the voice of the little cabin-boy, who had been to shore with the boat’s crew. He was running round to everyone in turn repeating: “I hit one of them. You know. I hit one. With a stone on the forehead. Didn’t he bleed, ooh! didn’t he just!” And he would dance with uncontrollable excitement.
The captain held up his hand and shouted for silence. “One at a time, there,” he ordered, and when order had a little been restored, added grumblingly61, “Like a pack of dogs on a bone. You talk, boatswain.”
“I hit one of them,” said the boy. [Pg 277]Somebody cuffed62 him over the head, and he relapsed into silence.
When the boatswain’s story had rambled63 through labyrinths64 of digression, over countless65 obstacles of interruptions and emendations, to its conclusion, the Spaniard went back to join his companion under the awning. He had assumed again his habitual66 indifference67.
“Nearly butchered,” he said languidly, in response to her eager questions. “They”—he jerked a hand in the direction of the town—“they were pelting68 an old fellow who had come there preaching the Faith. Left him dead on the beach. Our men had to run for it.”
She could get no more out of him; he turned over and pretended to go to sleep.
Towards evening they received a visit from the captain. He was a large, handsome man, with gold ear-rings glinting from among a bush of black hair.
“Divine Providence,” he remarked sententiously, after the usual courtesies had passed, “has called upon us to perform a very notable work.”
[Pg 278]
“Indeed?” said the young man.
“No less a work,” continued the captain, “than to save from the clutches of the infidels and heathen the precious remains69 of a holy martyr70.”
The captain let fall his pompous71 manner. It was evident that he had carefully prepared these pious72 sentences, they rolled so roundly off his tongue. But he was eager now to get on with his story, and it was in a homelier style that he went on: “If you knew these seas as well as I—and it’s near twenty years now that I’ve been sailing them—you’d have some knowledge of this same holy man that—God rot their souls for it!—these cursed Arabs have done to death here. I’ve heard of him more than once in my time, and not always well spoken of; for, to tell the honest truth, he does more harm with his preachments to good Christian74 traders than ever he did good to black-hearted heathen dogs. Leave the bees alone, I say, and if you can get a little honey out of them quietly, so much the better; but he goes about among the beehives with a pole, stirring up trouble for himself [Pg 279]and others too. Leave them alone to their damnation, is what I say, and get what you can from them this side of hell. But, still, he has died a holy martyr’s death. God rest his soul! A martyr is a wonderful thing, you know, and it’s not for the likes of us to understand what they mean by it all.
“They do say, too, that he could make gold. And, to my mind, it would have been a thing more pleasing to God and man if he had stopped at home minting money for poor folks and dealing75 it round, so that there’d be no need to work any more and break oneself for a morsel76 of bread. Yes, he was great at gold-making and at the books too. They tell me he was called the Illuminated77 Doctor. But I know him still as plain Lully. I used to hear of him from my father, plain Lully, and no better once than he should have been.
“My father was a shipwright78 in Minorca in those days—how long since? Fifty, sixty years perhaps. He knew him then; he has often told me the tale. And a raffish79 young dog he was. Drinking, drabbing, and dicing80 he outdid them [Pg 280]all, and between the bouts81 wrote poems, they say, which was more than the rest could do. But he gave it all up on the sudden. Gave away his lands, quitted his former companions, and turned hermit82 up in the hills, living alone like a fox in his burrow83, high up above the vines. And all because of a woman and his own qualmish stomach.”
The shipmaster paused and helped himself to a little wine. “And what did this woman do?” the girl asked curiously84.
“Ah, it’s not what she did but what she didn’t do,” the captain answered, with a leer and wink85. “She kept him at his distance—all but once, all but once; and that was what put him on the road to being a martyr. But there, I’m outrunning myself. I must go more soberly.
“There was a lady of some consequence in the island—one of the Castellos, I think she was; her first name has quite slipped my memory—Anastasia, or something of the kind. Lully conceives a passion for her, and sighs and importunes86 her through I know not how many [Pg 281]months and years. But her virtue87 stands steady as the judgment88 seat. Well, in the end, what happens was this. The story leaked out after it was all over, and he was turned hermit in the mountains. What happened, I say, was this. She tells him at last that he may come and see her, fixing some solitary89 twilight90 place and time, her own room at nightfall. You can guess how he washes and curls and scents91 himself, shaves his chin, chews anises, musks92 over whatever of the goat may cling about the body. Off he goes, dreaming swoons and ecstasies93, foretasting inconceivable sweets. Arrived, he finds the lady a little melancholy94—her settled humour, but a man might expect a smile at such a time. Still, nothing abashed95, he falls at her feet and pours out his piteous case, telling her he has sighed through seven years, not closed an eye for above a hundred nights, is forepined to a shadow, and, in a word, will perish unless she show some mercy. She, still melancholy her—settled humour, mark you—makes answer that she is ready to yield, and that her body is entirely96 his. With that, she lets herself [Pg 282]be done with as he pleases, but always sorrowfully. ‘You are all mine,’ says he—‘all mine’—and unlaces her gorgeret to prove the same. But he was wrong. Another lover was already in her bosom, and his kisses had been passionate97—oh, burning passionate, for he had kissed away half her left breast. From the nipple down it had all been gnawed98 away by a cancer.
“Bah, a man may see as bad as that any day in the street or at church-doors where beggars most congregate99. I grant you that it is a nasty sight, worm-eaten flesh, but still—not enough, you will agree, to make yourself a hermit over. But there, I told you he had a queasiness100 of the stomach. But doubtless it was all in God’s plan to make a holy martyr of him. But for that same queasiness of his, he would still be living there, a superannuated101 rake; or else have died in very foul102 odour, instead of passing, all embalmed103 with sanctity, to Paradise Gate.
“I know not what happened to him between his hermit-hood and his quest for martyrdom. I saw him first a dozen [Pg 283]years ago, down Tunis way. They were always clapping him into prison or pulling out his beard for preaching. This time, it seems, they have made a holy martyr of him, done the business thoroughly104 with no bungling105. Well, may he pray for our souls at the throne of God. I go in secretly to-night to steal his body. It lies on the shore there beyond the jetty. It will be a notable work, I tell you, to bring back so precious a corpse106 to Christendom. A most notable work. . . .”
The captain rubbed his hands.
It was after midnight, but there was still a bustle107 of activity on board the galley. At any moment they were expecting the arrival of the boat with the corpse of the martyr. A couch, neatly108 draped in black, with at its head and foot candles burning two by two, had been set out on the poop for the reception of the body. The captain called the young Spaniard and his mistress to come and see the bier.
“That’s a good bit of work for you,” he said, with justifiable109 pride. “I defy [Pg 284]anyone to make a more decent resting-place for a martyr than that is. It could hardly have been done better on shore, with every appliance at hand. But we sailors, you know, can make anything out of nothing. A truckle-bed, a strip of tarred canvas, and four tallow dips from the cabin lanterns—there you are, a bier for a king.”
He hurried away, and a little later the young man and the girl could hear him giving orders and cursing somewhere down below. The candles burned almost without a tremor110 in the windless air, and the reflections of the stars were long, thin tracks of fire along the utterly calm water.
“Were there but perfumed flowers and the sound of a lute,” said the young Spaniard, “the night would tremble into passion of its own accord. Love should come unsought on such a night as this, among these black waters and the stars that sleep so peacefully on their bosom.”
He put his arm round the girl and bent111 his head to kiss her. But she averted112 her face. He could feel a shudder48 run her through the body.
[Pg 285]
“Not to-night,” she whispered. “I think of the poor dead man. I would rather pray.”
“No, no,” he cried. “Forget him. Remember only that we are alive, and that we have but little time and none to waste.”
He drew her into the shadow under the bulwark113, and, sitting down on a coil of rope, crushed her body to his own and began kissing her with fury. She lay, at first, limp in his arms, but gradually she kindled114 to his passion.
A plash of oars announced the approach of the boat. The captain hallooed into the darkness: “Did you find him?”
“Yes, we have him here,” came back the answer.
“Good. Bring him alongside and we’ll hoist115 him up. We have the bier in readiness. He shall lie in state to-night.”
“But he’s not dead,” shouted back the voice from the night.
“Not dead?” repeated the captain, thunderstruck. “But what about the bier, then?”
A thin, feeble voice came back. “Your work will not be wasted, my friend. [Pg 286]It will be but a short time before I need your bier.”
The captain, a little abashed, answered in a gentler tone, “We thought, holy father, that the heathens had done their worst and that Almighty116 God had already given you the martyr’s crown.”
By this time the boat had emerged from the darkness. In the stern sheets an old man was lying, his white hair and beard stained with blood, his Dominican’s robe torn and fouled117 with dust. At the sight of him, the captain pulled off his cap and dropped upon his knees.
The old man raised his hand and wished him peace.
They lifted him on board and, at his own desire, laid him upon the bier which had been prepared for his dead body. “It would be a waste of trouble,” he said, “to put me anywhere else, seeing I shall in any case be lying there so soon.”
So there he lay, very still under the four candles. One might have taken him for dead already, but that his eyes, when he opened them, shone so brightly.
[Pg 287]
He dismissed from the poop everyone except the young Spaniard. “We are countrymen,” he said, “and of noble blood, both of us. I would rather have you near me than anyone else.”
The sailors knelt for a blessing and disappeared; soon they could be heard weighing the anchor; it was safest to be off before day. Like mourners at either side of the lighted bier crouched119 the Spaniard and his mistress. The body of the old man, who was not yet dead, lay quiet under the candles. The martyr was silent for some time, but at last he opened his eyes and looked at the young man and the woman.
“I too,” he said, “was in love, once. In this year falls the jubilee120 of my last earthly passion; fifty years have run since last I longed after the flesh—fifty years since God opened my eyes to the hideousness121 of the corruption122 that man has brought upon himself.
“You are young, and your bodies are clean and straight, with no blotch123 or ulcer124 or leprous taint125 to mar43 their much-desired beauty; but because of your outward [Pg 288]pride, your souls, it may be, fester inwardly the more.
“And yet God made all perfect; it is but accident and the evil of will that causes defaults. All metals should be gold, were it not that their elements willed evilly in their desire to combine. And so with men: the burning sulphur of passion, the salt of wisdom, the nimble mercurial126 soul should come together to make a golden being, incorruptible and rustless127. But the elements mingle128 jarringly, not in a pure harmony of love, and gold is rare, while lead and iron and poisonous brass129 that leaves a taste as of remorse130 behind it are everywhere common.
“God opened my eyes to it before my youth had too utterly wasted itself to rottenness. It was half a hundred years ago, but I see her still, my Ambrosia131, with her white, sad face and her naked body and that monstrous132 ill eating away at her breast.
“I have lived since then trying to amend133 the evil, trying to restore, as far as my poor powers would go, some measure of original perfection to the corrupted134 world. I have striven to give to all metals their true [Pg 289]nature, to make true gold from the false, the unreal, the accidental metals, lead and copper135 and tin and iron. And I have essayed that more difficult alchemy, the transformation136 of men. I die now in my effort to purge137 away that most foul dross138 of misbelief from the souls of these heathen men. Have I achieved anything? I know not.”
The galley was moving now, its head turned seaward. The candles shivered in the wind of its speed, casting uncertain, changing shadows upon his face. There was a long silence on the poop. The oars creaked and splashed. Sometimes a shout would come up from below, orders given by the overseer of the slaves, a curse, the sound of a blow. The old man spoke73 again, more weakly now, as though to himself.
“I have had eighty years of it,” he said—“eighty years in the midst of this corroding139 sea of hatred and strife140. A man has need to keep pure and unalloyed his core of gold, that little centre of perfection with which all, even in this declination of time, are born. All other metal, though it be as tough as steel, [Pg 290]as shining-hard as brass, will melt before the devouring141 bitterness of life. Hatred, lust142, anger—the vile143 passions will corrode144 your will of iron, the warlike pomp of your front of brass. It needs the golden perfection of pure love and pure knowledge to withstand them.
“God has willed that I should be the stone—weak, indeed, in virtue—that has touched and transformed at least a little of baser metal into the gold that is above corruption. But it is hard work—thankless work. Man has made a hell of his world, and has set up gods of pain to rule it. Goatish gods, that revel145 and feast on the agony of it all, poring over the tortured world, like those hateful lovers, whose lust burns darkly into cruelty.
“Fever goads146 us through life in a delirium147 of madness. Thirsting for the swamps of evil whence the fever came, thirsting for the mirages148 of his own delirium, man rushes headlong he knows not whither. And all the time a devouring cancer gnaws149 at his entrails. It will kill him in the end, when even the ghastly inspiration of fever will not be enough to whip him on. He will lie there, [Pg 291]cumbering the earth, a heap of rottenness and pain, until at last the cleansing150 fire comes to sweep the horror away.
“Fever and cancer; acids that burn and corrode. . . . I have had eighty years of it. Thank God, it is the end.”
It was already dawn; the candles were hardly visible now in the light, faded to nothing, like souls in prosperity. In a little while the old man was asleep.
The captain tiptoed up on to the poop and drew the young Spaniard aside for a confidential151 talk.
“Do you think he will die to-day?” he asked.
The young man nodded.
“God rest his soul,” said the captain piously152. “But do you think it would be best to take his body to Minorca or to Genoa? At Minorca they would give much to have their own patron martyr. At the same time it would add to the glory of Genoa to possess so holy a relic153, though he is in no way connected with the place. It’s there is my difficulty. Suppose, you see, that my people of Genoa did not want the body, he being from Minorca and not one of them. I should [Pg 292]look a fool then, bringing it in in state. Oh, it’s hard, it’s hard. There’s so much to think about. I am not sure but what I hadn’t better put in at Minorca first. What do you think?”
The Spaniard shrugged his shoulder. “I have no advice to offer.”
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1
galley
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| n.（飞机或船上的）厨房单层甲板大帆船；军舰舰长用的大划艇； | |
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bosom
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| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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bosomed
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| 胸部的 | |
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transparent
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| adj.明显的，无疑的；透明的 | |
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rhythmically
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| adv.有节奏地 | |
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rhythmical
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| adj.有节奏的，有韵律的 | |
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7
fathoms
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| 英寻( fathom的名词复数 ) | |
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Mediterranean
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| adj.地中海的；地中海沿岸的 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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poised
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| a.摆好姿势不动的 | |
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fins
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| [医]散热片；鱼鳍；飞边；鸭掌 | |
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darting
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| v.投掷，投射( dart的现在分词 )；向前冲，飞奔 | |
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utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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dice
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| n.骰子；vt.把（食物）切成小方块，冒险 | |
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awning
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| n.遮阳篷；雨篷 | |
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gulp
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| vt.吞咽，大口地吸（气）；vi.哽住；n.吞咽 | |
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shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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discomforts
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| n.不舒适( discomfort的名词复数 )；不愉快，苦恼 | |
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scorches
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| 烧焦，烤焦( scorch的第三人称单数 )； 使（植物）枯萎，把…晒枯； 高速行驶 | |
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pouted
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| v.撅（嘴）( pout的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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lasciviousness
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caress
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| vt./n.爱抚，抚摸 | |
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ragged
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| adj.衣衫褴褛的，粗糙的，刺耳的 | |
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uneven
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| adj.不平坦的，不规则的，不均匀的 | |
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shrill
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| adj.尖声的；刺耳的；v尖叫 | |
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rumbling
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growl
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| v.（狗等）嗥叫，（炮等）轰鸣；n.嗥叫，轰鸣 | |
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bass
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| n.男低音(歌手)；低音乐器；低音大提琴 | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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domes
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| n.圆屋顶( dome的名词复数 )；像圆屋顶一样的东西；圆顶体育场 | |
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ridge
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| n.山脊；鼻梁；分水岭 | |
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onlooker
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| n.旁观者，观众 | |
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exertion
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| n.尽力，努力 | |
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cypresses
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| n.柏属植物，柏树( cypress的名词复数 ) | |
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opaque
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| adj.不透光的；不反光的，不传导的；晦涩的 | |
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36
diffused
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| 散布的，普及的，扩散的 | |
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37
chestnut
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| n.栗树，栗子 | |
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38
groves
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| 树丛，小树林( grove的名词复数 ) | |
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39
strings
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| n.弦 | |
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40
intoxicating
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| a. 醉人的,使人兴奋的 | |
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41
fragrance
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| n.芬芳，香味，香气 | |
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42
mare
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| n.母马，母驴 | |
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43
mar
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| vt.破坏，毁坏，弄糟 | |
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44
gulled
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| v.欺骗某人( gull的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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45
delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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46
possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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47
shuddered
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| v.战栗( shudder的过去式和过去分词 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动 | |
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48
shudder
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| v.战粟，震动，剧烈地摇晃；n.战粟，抖动 | |
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49
repulsive
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| adj.排斥的，使人反感的 | |
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50
stank
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| n. (英)坝，堰，池塘 动词stink的过去式 | |
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51
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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52
infinitely
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| adv.无限地，无穷地 | |
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53
oars
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| n.桨，橹( oar的名词复数 )；划手v.划（行）( oar的第三人称单数 ) | |
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54
slumbers
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| 睡眠，安眠( slumber的名词复数 ) | |
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55
stagnant
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| adj.不流动的，停滞的，不景气的 | |
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56
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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57
hatred
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| n.憎恶，憎恨，仇恨 | |
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58
stinking
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| adj.臭的，烂醉的，讨厌的v.散发出恶臭( stink的现在分词 )；发臭味；名声臭；糟透 | |
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59
eddy
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| n.漩涡，涡流 | |
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60
hubbub
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| n.嘈杂；骚乱 | |
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61
grumblingly
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| 喃喃报怨着，发牢骚着 | |
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62
cuffed
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| v.掌打，拳打( cuff的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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63
rambled
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| （无目的地）漫游( ramble的过去式和过去分词 )； （喻）漫谈； 扯淡； 长篇大论 | |
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64
labyrinths
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| 迷宫( labyrinth的名词复数 )； （文字，建筑）错综复杂的 | |
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65
countless
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| adj.无数的，多得不计其数的 | |
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66
habitual
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| adj.习惯性的；通常的，惯常的 | |
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67
indifference
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| n.不感兴趣，不关心，冷淡，不在乎 | |
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68
pelting
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| 微不足道的，无价值的，盛怒的 | |
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69
remains
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| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
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70
martyr
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| n.烈士，殉难者；vt.杀害，折磨，牺牲 | |
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71
pompous
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| adj.傲慢的，自大的；夸大的；豪华的 | |
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72
pious
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| adj.虔诚的；道貌岸然的 | |
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73
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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74
Christian
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| adj.基督教徒的；n.基督教徒 | |
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75
dealing
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| n.经商方法，待人态度 | |
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76
morsel
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| n.一口，一点点 | |
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77
illuminated
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| adj.被照明的；受启迪的 | |
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78
shipwright
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| n.造船工人 | |
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79
raffish
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| adj.名誉不好的，无赖的，卑鄙的，艳俗的 | |
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80
dicing
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| n.掷骰子，（皮革上的）菱形装饰v.将…切成小方块，切成丁（ dice的现在分词 ） | |
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81
bouts
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| n.拳击（或摔跤）比赛( bout的名词复数 )；一段（工作）；（尤指坏事的）一通；（疾病的）发作 | |
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82
hermit
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| n.隐士，修道者；隐居 | |
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83
burrow
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| vt.挖掘(洞穴)；钻进；vi.挖洞；翻寻；n.地洞 | |
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84
curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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85
wink
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| n.眨眼，使眼色，瞬间；v.眨眼，使眼色，闪烁 | |
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86
importunes
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| v.纠缠，向（某人）不断要求( importune的第三人称单数 )；（妓女）拉（客） | |
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87
virtue
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| n.德行，美德；贞操；优点；功效，效力 | |
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88
judgment
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| n.审判；判断力，识别力，看法，意见 | |
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89
solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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90
twilight
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| n.暮光，黄昏；暮年，晚期，衰落时期 | |
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91
scents
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| n.香水( scent的名词复数 )；气味；（动物的）臭迹；（尤指狗的）嗅觉 | |
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92
musks
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| n.麝香( musk的名词复数 )；香猫 | |
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93
ecstasies
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| 狂喜( ecstasy的名词复数 )； 出神； 入迷； 迷幻药 | |
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94
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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95
abashed
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| adj.窘迫的，尴尬的v.使羞愧，使局促，使窘迫( abash的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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96
entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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97
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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98
gnawed
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| 咬( gnaw的过去式和过去分词 )； （长时间） 折磨某人； （使）苦恼； （长时间）危害某事物 | |
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99
congregate
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| v.(使)集合，聚集 | |
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100
queasiness
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| n.恶心 | |
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101
superannuated
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| adj.老朽的，退休的；v.因落后于时代而废除，勒令退学 | |
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102
foul
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| adj.污秽的；邪恶的；v.弄脏；妨害；犯规；n.犯规 | |
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103
embalmed
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| adj.用防腐药物保存（尸体）的v.保存（尸体）不腐( embalm的过去式和过去分词 )；使不被遗忘；使充满香气 | |
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104
thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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105
bungling
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| adj.笨拙的，粗劣的v.搞糟，完不成( bungle的现在分词 )；笨手笨脚地做；失败；完不成 | |
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106
corpse
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| n.尸体，死尸 | |
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107
bustle
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| v.喧扰地忙乱，匆忙，奔忙；n.忙碌；喧闹 | |
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108
neatly
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| adv.整洁地，干净地，灵巧地，熟练地 | |
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109
justifiable
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| adj.有理由的，无可非议的 | |
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110
tremor
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| n.震动，颤动，战栗，兴奋，地震 | |
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111
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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112
averted
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| 防止，避免( avert的过去式和过去分词 )； 转移 | |
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113
bulwark
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| n.堡垒，保障，防御 | |
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114
kindled
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| （使某物）燃烧，着火( kindle的过去式和过去分词 )； 激起（感情等）； 发亮，放光 | |
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115
hoist
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| n.升高，起重机，推动；v.升起，升高，举起 | |
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116
almighty
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| adj.全能的，万能的；很大的，很强的 | |
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117
fouled
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| v.使污秽( foul的过去式和过去分词 )；弄脏；击球出界；（通常用废物）弄脏 | |
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118
blessing
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| n.祈神赐福；祷告；祝福，祝愿 | |
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119
crouched
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| v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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120
jubilee
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| n.周年纪念；欢乐 | |
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121
hideousness
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122
corruption
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| n.腐败，堕落，贪污 | |
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123
blotch
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| n.大斑点；红斑点；v.使沾上污渍，弄脏 | |
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124
ulcer
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| n.溃疡，腐坏物 | |
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125
taint
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| n.污点；感染；腐坏；v.使感染；污染 | |
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126
mercurial
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| adj.善变的，活泼的 | |
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127
rustless
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| adj.无锈的，不生锈的 | |
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128
mingle
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| vt.使混合，使相混；vi.混合起来；相交往 | |
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129
brass
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| n.黄铜；黄铜器，铜管乐器 | |
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130
remorse
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| n.痛恨，悔恨，自责 | |
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131
ambrosia
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| n.神的食物；蜂食 | |
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132
monstrous
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| adj.巨大的；恐怖的；可耻的，丢脸的 | |
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133
amend
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| vt.修改，修订，改进；n.[pl.]赔罪，赔偿 | |
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134
corrupted
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| （使）败坏( corrupt的过去式和过去分词 )； （使）腐化； 引起（计算机文件等的）错误； 破坏 | |
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135
copper
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| n.铜；铜币；铜器；adj.铜(制)的；(紫)铜色的 | |
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136
transformation
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| n.变化；改造；转变 | |
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137
purge
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| n.整肃，清除，泻药，净化；vt.净化，清除，摆脱；vi.清除，通便，腹泻，变得清洁 | |
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138
dross
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| n.渣滓；无用之物 | |
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139
corroding
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| 使腐蚀，侵蚀( corrode的现在分词 ) | |
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140
strife
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| n.争吵，冲突，倾轧，竞争 | |
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141
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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142
lust
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| n.性(淫)欲；渴(欲)望；vi.对…有强烈的欲望 | |
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143
vile
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| adj.卑鄙的，可耻的，邪恶的；坏透的 | |
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144
corrode
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| v.使腐蚀，侵蚀，破害；v.腐蚀，被侵蚀 | |
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145
revel
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| vi.狂欢作乐，陶醉；n.作乐，狂欢 | |
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146
goads
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| n.赶牲口的尖棒( goad的名词复数 )v.刺激( goad的第三人称单数 )；激励；（用尖棒）驱赶；驱使（或怂恿、刺激）某人 | |
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147
delirium
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| n. 神智昏迷,说胡话;极度兴奋 | |
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148
mirages
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| n.海市蜃楼，幻景( mirage的名词复数 ) | |
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149
gnaws
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| 咬( gnaw的第三人称单数 )； （长时间） 折磨某人； （使）苦恼； （长时间）危害某事物 | |
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150
cleansing
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| n. 净化(垃圾) adj. 清洁用的 动词cleanse的现在分词 | |
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151
confidential
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| adj.秘（机）密的，表示信任的，担任机密工作的 | |
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152
piously
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| adv.虔诚地 | |
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153
relic
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| n.神圣的遗物，遗迹，纪念物 | |
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154
bustled
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| 闹哄哄地忙乱，奔忙( bustle的过去式和过去分词 )； 催促 | |
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155
tangled
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| adj. 纠缠的，紊乱的 动词tangle的过去式和过去分词 | |
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156
unravel
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| v.弄清楚（秘密）；拆开，解开，松开 | |
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