This particular evening Madame Bergeret said as she went into the kitchen:
“Go and ask your master, Euphémie, how he would like his eggs to be cooked.”
It was quite a new departure on her side to submit the bill of fare to the master of the house. For of old, in the days of her lofty innocence32, she had habitually34 forced him to partake of dishes which he disliked and which upset the delicate digestion35 of the sedentary student. Euphémie’s mind was not of wide range, but it was impartial36 and unwavering, and she protested to Madame Bergeret, as she had done several times before on227 similar occasions, that it was absolutely useless for her mistress to ask Monsieur anything. He never answered a word, because he was in a “contrairy” mood. But Madame, turning her face away and dropping her eyelids37 as a sign of determination, repeated the order she had just given.
“Euphémie,” she said, “do as I tell you. Go and ask your master how he would like the eggs cooked, and don’t forget to tell him that they are new-laid and come from Trécul’s.”
M. Bergeret was sitting in his study at work on the Virgilius nauticus, which a publisher had commissioned him to prepare as an extra embellishment of a learned edition of the ?neid, at which three generations of philologists38 had been working for more than thirty years, and the first sheets of which were already through the press. And now, slip by slip, the professor sat compiling this special lexicon39 for it. He conceived a sort of veneration40 for himself as he worked at it, and congratulated himself in these words:
“Here am I, a land-lubber who has never sailed on anything more important than the Sunday steamboat which carries the townsfolk up the river to drink sparkling wine on the slopes of Tuillières in summer time; here am I, a good Frenchman, who has never seen the sea except at Villers; here am I, Lucien Bergeret, acting41 as the interpreter of228 Virgil, the seaman42. Here I sit in my study explaining the nautical43 terms used by a poet who is accurate, learned and exact, in spite of all his rhetoric44, who is a mathematician45, a mechanician, a geometrician, a well-informed Italian, who was trained in seafaring matters by the sailors who basked46 in the sun on the sea-shores of Naples and Misenum, who had, maybe, his own galley47, and under the clear stars of Helen’s twin-brothers, ploughed the blue furrows49 of the sea between Naples and Athens. Thanks to the excellence50 of my philological51 methods I am able to reach this point of perfection, but my pupil, M. Goubin, would be as fully52 equipped for the task as I.”
M. Bergeret took the greatest pleasure in this work, for it kept his mind occupied without any accompanying sense of anxiety or excitement. It filled him with real satisfaction to trace on thin sheets of pasteboard his delicate, regular letters, types and symbols as they were of the mental accuracy demanded in the study of philology53. All his senses joined and shared in this spiritual satisfaction, so true is it that the pleasures which man can enjoy are more varied54 than is commonly supposed. Just now M. Bergeret was revelling55 in the peaceful joy of writing thus:
229“Servius believes that Virgil wrote Attolli malos[11] in mistake for Attolli vela, [12] and the reason which he gives for this rendering56 is that cum navigarent, non est dubium quod olli erexerant arbores.[13] Ascencius takes the same side as Servius, being either forgetful or ignorant of the fact that, on certain occasions, ships at sea are dismasted. When the state of the sea was such that the masts....”
[11] Attolli malos, for the masts to be raised.
[12] Attolli vela, for the sails to be raised.
[13] Cum navigarent, non est dubium quod olli erexerant arbores, when they were at sea, there is no doubt that the masts were already up.
M. Bergeret had reached this point in his work when Euphémie opened the study door with the noise that always accompanied her slightest movement, and repeated the considerate message sent by Madame Bergeret to her husband:
“Madame wants to know how you would like your eggs cooked?”
M. Bergeret’s only reply was a gentle request to Euphémie to withdraw. He went on writing:
“ran the risk of breaking, it was customary to lower them, by lifting them out of the well in which their heels were inserted....”
“Sir, Madame told me to say that the eggs come from Trécul’s.”
230 “Una omnes fecere pedem.”[14]
Filled with a sense of sadness M. Bergeret laid down his pen, for he was suddenly overwhelmed with a perception of the uselessness of his work. Unfortunately for his own happiness, he was intelligent enough to recognise his own mediocrity, and, at times, it would actually appear to him in visible shape, like a thin, little, clumsy figure dancing about on his table between the inkstand and the file. He knew it well and hated it, for he would fain have seen his personality come to him under the guise60 of a lissom61 nymph. Yet it always appeared to him in its true form, as a lanky62, unlovely figure. It shocked him to see it, for he had delicate perceptions and a taste for dainty conceits63.
“Monsieur Bergeret,” he said to himself, “you are a professor of some distinction, an intelligent provincial64, a university man with a tendency to the florid, an average scholar shackled65 by the barren quests of philology, a stranger to the true science of language, which can be plumbed66 only by men of broad, unbiassed and trenchant67 views. Monsieur Bergeret, you are not a scholar, for you are incapable68 of grasping or classifying the facts of language. Michel Bréal will never mention your poor, little,231 humble69 name. You will die without fame, and your ears will never know the sweet accents of men’s praise.”
“Sir ... Sir,” put in Euphémie in urgent tones, “do answer me. I have no time to hang about. I have my work to do. Madame wants to know how you’d like your eggs done. I got them at Trécul’s and they were laid this morning.”
Without so much as turning his head, M. Bergeret answered the girl in a tone of relentless70 gentleness:
“I want you to go and never again to enter my study—at any rate, not until I call you.”
Then the professor returned to his day-dream: “How happy is Torquet, our dean! How happy is Leterrier, our rector! No distrust of themselves, no rash misgivings71 to interrupt the smooth course of their equable lives! They are like that old fellow Mesange, who was so beloved by the immortal72 goddesses that he survived three generations and attained73 to the Collège de France and the Institute without having learnt anything new since the holy days of his innocent childhood. He carried with him to his grave the same amount of Greek as he had at the age of fifteen. He died at the close of this century, still revolving74 in his little head the mythological75 fancies that the poets of the First Empire had turned into verse beside his cradle.232 But I—how comes it that I have such a cruel sense of my own inadequacy76 and of the laughable folly77 of all I undertake? For I have a mind as weak as that Greek scholar’s, who had a bird’s brain as well as a bird’s name; I am fully as incapable as Torquet the dean, and Leterrier, the rector, of either system or initiative. I am, in fact, but a foolish, melancholy78 juggler79 with words. May it not be a sign of mental supereminence and a mark of my superiority in the realm of abstract thought? This Virgilius nauticus, which I use as the touchstone of my powers, is it really my own work and the fruit of my mind? No, it is a task foisted80 on my poverty by a grasping bookseller in league with a pack of pseudo-scholars who, on the pretext81 of freeing French scholarship from German tutelage, are bringing back the trivial methods of former times, and forcing me to take part in the philological pastimes of 1820. May the responsibility for it rest on them and not on me! It was no zeal82 for knowledge, but the thirst for gain, that induced me to undertake this Virgilius nauticus, at which I have now been working for three years and which will bring me in five hundred francs: to wit, two hundred and fifty francs on delivery of the manuscript, and two hundred and fifty francs on the day of publication of the volume containing this article. I determined83 to slake84 my horrible thirst233 for gold! I have failed, not in brain power, but in force of character. That’s a very different matter!”
In this way did M. Bergeret marshal the flock of his wandering thoughts. All this time Euphémie had not moved, but at last, for the third time, she spoke to her master:
“Sir.... Sir....”
When M. Bergeret at last glanced at her, he could see the tears rolling down her round, red, shining cheeks.
She tried to speak, but nothing came from her throat save hoarse86 croaks87, like the call that the shepherds of her native village sound on their goat-horns of an evening. Then she crossed her two arms, bare to the elbow, over her face, showing the fat, white flesh furrowed88 with long red scratches, and wiped her eyes with the back of her brown hands. Sobs tore her narrow chest and shook her stomach, abnormally enlarged by the tabes from which she had suffered in her seventh year and which had left her deformed89. Then she dropped her arms to her side, hid her hands under her apron90, stifled91 her sobs, and exclaimed peevishly92, as soon as she could get the words out:
“I cannot live any longer in this house. I234 cannot any more. Besides, it isn’t a life at all. I would rather go away than see what I do.”
There was as much rage as misery93 in her voice, and she looked at M. Bergeret with inflamed94 eyes.
She was really very indignant at her master’s behaviour, and this not at all because she had always been attached to her mistress. For till quite recently, in the days of her pride and prosperity, Madame Bergeret had overwhelmed her with insult and humiliation and kept her half starved. Neither was it because she knew nothing of her mistress’s lapse from virtue95, and believed, with Madame Dellion and the other ladies, that Madame Bergeret was innocent. She knew every detail of her mistress’s liaison96 with M. Roux, as did the concierge97, the bread-woman, and M. Raynaud’s maid. She had discovered the truth long before M. Bergeret knew it. Neither, on the other hand, was it because she approved of the affair; for she strongly censured98 both M. Roux and Madame Bergeret. For a girl who was mistress of her own person to have a lover seemed a small thing to her, not worth troubling about, when one knows how easily these things happen. She had had a narrow escape herself one night after the fair, when she was close pressed by a lad who wanted to play pranks99 at the edge of a235 ditch. She knew that an accident might happen all in a moment. But in a middle-aged100 married woman with children such conduct was disgusting. She confessed to the bread-woman one morning that really mistress turned her sick. Personally, she had no hankering after this kind of thing, and if there were no one but her to supply the babies, why then, the world might come to an end for all she cared. But if her mistress felt differently, there was always a husband for her to turn to. Euphémie considered that Madame Bergeret had committed a horribly wicked sin, but she could not bring herself to feel that any sin, however serious, should never be forgiven and should always remain unpardoned. During her childhood, before she hired herself out to service, she used to work with her parents in the fields and vineyards. There she had seen the sun scorch101 up the vine-flowers, the hail beat down all the corn in the fields in a few minutes; yet, the very next year, her father, mother and elder brothers would be out in the fields, training the vine and sowing the furrow48. There, amid the eternal patience of nature, she had learnt the lesson that in this world, alternately scorching102 and freezing, good and bad, there is nothing that is irreparable, and that, as one pardons the earth itself, so one must pardon man and woman.
236 It was according to this principle that the people at home acted, and after all, they were very likely quite as good as townsfolk. When Robertet’s wife, the buxom103 Léocadie, gave a pair of braces104 to her footman to induce him to do what she wanted, she was not so clever that Robertet did not find out the trick. He caught the lovers just in the nick of time, and chastised105 his wife so thoroughly106 with a horsewhip that she lost all desire to sin again for ever and ever. Since then Léocadie has been one of the best women in the country: her husband hasn’t that to find fault with her for. M. Robertet is a man of sense and knows how to drive men as well as cattle: why don’t people just do as he did?
Having been often beaten by her respected father, and being, moreover, a simple, untamed being herself, Euphémie fully understood an act of violence. Had M. Bergeret broken the two house brooms on Madame Bergeret’s guilty back, she would have quite approved of his act. One broom, it is true, had lost half its bristles107, and the other, older still, had no more hair than the palm of the hand, and served, with the aid of a dishcloth, to wash down the kitchen tiles. But when her master persisted in a mood of prolonged and sullen108 spite, the peasant girl considered it hateful, unnatural109 and positively110 fiendish. What brought237 home to Euphémie all M. Bergeret’s crimes with still greater force, was that his behaviour made her work difficult and confusing. For since Monsieur refused to take his meals with Madame, he had to be served in one place and she in another, for although M. Bergeret might stubbornly refuse to recognise his wife’s existence, yet she could not sustain even non-existence without sustenance111 of some sort. “It’s like an inn,” sighed the youthful Euphémie. Then, since M. Bergeret no longer supplied her with housekeeping money, Madame Bergeret used to say to Euphémie: “You must settle with your master.” And in the evening Euphémie would tremblingly carry her book to her master, who would wave her off with an imperious gesture, for he found it difficult to meet the increased expenditure112. Thus lived Euphémie, perpetually overwhelmed by difficulties with which she could not cope. In this poisoned air she was losing all her cheerfulness: she was no longer to be heard in the kitchen, mingling113 the noise of laughter and shouts with the crash of saucepans, with the sizzling of the frying-pan upset on the stove, or with the heavy blows of the knife, as on the chopping-block she minced114 the meat, together with one of her finger-tips. She no longer revelled115 in joy, or in noisy grief. She said to herself: “This house is driving me crazy.” She pitied238 Madame Bergeret, for now she was kindly116 treated. They used to spend the evening, sitting side by side in the lamp-light, exchanging confidences. It was with her heart full of all these emotions that Euphémie said to M. Bergeret:
“I am going away. You are too wicked. I want to leave.”
And again she shed a flood of tears.
M. Bergeret was by no means vexed117 at this reproach. He pretended, in fact, not to hear it, for he had too much sense not to be able to make allowances for the rudeness shown by an ignorant girl. He even smiled within himself, for in the secret depths of his heart, beneath layers of wise thoughts and fine sayings, he still retained that primitive118 instinct which persists even in modern men of the gentlest and sweetest character, and which makes them rejoice whenever they see they are taken for ferocious119 beings, as if the mere power of injuring and destroying were the motive120 force of living things, their essential quality and highest merit. This, on reflection, is indeed true, since, as life is supported and nourished only upon murder, the best men must be those who slaughter121 most. Then again, those who, under the stimulus122 of racial and food-conquering instincts, deal the hardest knocks, obtain the reputation of magnanimity, and please women, who are naturally interested239 in securing the strongest mates, and who are mentally incapable of separating the fruitful from the destructive element in man, since these two forces are, in actual fact, indissolubly linked by nature. Hence, when Euphémie in a voice as countrified as a fable123 by ?sop124, told him he was wicked, M. Bergeret, by virtue of his philosophical125 temperament126, felt flattered and fancied he heard a murmur127 which filled out the gaps in the maid’s simple speech, and said: “Learn, Lucien Bergeret, that you are a wicked man, in the vulgar sense of the word—that is to say, you are able to injure and destroy; in other words, you are in a state of defence, in full possession of life, on the road to victory. In your own way, you must know, you are a giant, a monster, an ogre, a man of terror.”
But, being a sceptical man and never given to accepting men’s opinions unchallenged, he began to ask himself if he were really what Euphémie said. At the first glance into the inner recesses128 of his nature he concluded that, on the whole, he was not wicked; that, on the contrary, he was full of pity, highly sensitive to the woes129 of others, and full of sympathy for the wretched; that he loved his fellow-men, and would have gladly satisfied their needs by fulfilling all their desires, whether innocent or guilty, for he refused to trammel his human charity with the nets of any moral system,240 and for every kind of misery he had compassion130 at his call. And to him everything that harmed no one was innocent. In this way his heart was kinder than it ought to have been, according to the laws, the morals, and the varying creeds131 of the nations. Looking at himself in this way, he perceived the truth—that he was not wicked, and the thought caused him some bewilderment. It pained him to recognise in himself those contemptible132 qualities of mind which do nothing to strengthen the life-force.
With praiseworthy thoroughness, he next set himself to inquire whether he had not thrown off his kindly temper and his peaceable disposition133 in certain matters, and particularly in this affair of Madame Bergeret. He saw at once that on this special occasion he had acted in opposition134 to his general principles and habitual33 sentiments, and that on this point his conduct presented several marked singularities of which he noted135 down the strangest.
“Chief singularities: I feign136 to consider her a criminal, and I act as if I had really fallen into this vulgar error. And all the time that her conscience condemns138 her for having committed adultery with my pupil, M. Roux, I myself regard her adultery as an innocent act, since it has harmed no one. Hence Madame Bergeret’s morality is higher than241 mine, for, although she believes herself guilty, she forgives herself, while I, who do not consider her guilty at all, refuse to forgive her. My judgment139 of her is immoral140, but merciful; my conduct, however, is moral, but cruel. What I condemn137 so pitilessly is not her act, which I consider to be merely ridiculous and unseemly: it is herself that I condemn, as being guilty, not of what she has done, but of what she is. The girl Euphémie is in the right: I am wicked!”
He patted himself on the back, and revolving these new considerations, said again to himself:
“I am wicked because I act. I knew, before this experience happened to me, that there is no such thing as an innocent action, for to act is to injure or destroy. As soon as I began to act, I became a malefactor141.”
He had an excellent excuse for speaking thus to himself, since all this time he had been performing a systematic142, continuous, and consistent act, in making Madame Bergeret’s life unbearable143 to her, by depriving her of all the comforts needed by her homely common nature, her domesticated character, and her gregarious144 mind. In a word, he was engaged in driving from his house a disobedient and troublesome wife who had done him good service by being unfaithful to him.
The opportunity she gave he seized gladly,242 doing his work with wonderful vigour145, considering the weak character he showed in ordinary affairs. For, although M. Bergeret was usually vacillating in purpose and without a will of his own, at this crisis he was driven on by desire, by an invincible146 Lust147. For it is desire, far stronger than will, that, having created the world, now upholds it. In this undertaking148 of his, M. Bergeret was sustained by unutterable desire, by a masterful Lust to see Madame Bergeret no more. And this untempered, transparent149 desire had the happy force of a great love, for it was ruffled150 by no feeling of hatred151.
All this time Euphémie stood waiting for her master to answer her, or, at any rate, to hurl furious words at her. For on this point she agreed with Madame Bergeret, and considered silence far more cruel than insult and invective152.
At last M. Bergeret broke the silence. He said in a quiet voice: “I discharge you. You will leave this house in a week’s time.”
Euphémie’s sole response was a plaintive153, animal cry. For a moment she stood motionless. Then, thunderstruck, heart-broken and wretched, she returned to her kitchen and gazed at the saucepans, now dented154 like battle-armour by her valiant155 hands. She looked at the chair which had lost its seat—without causing her any inconvenience, however, for the poor girl hardly ever sat down; at the243 cistern156 whose waters had often swamped the house at night by overflowing157 from a tap left full on; at the sink with its wastepipe perpetually choked; at the table notched158 by the chopping-knife; at the cast-iron stove all eaten away by the fire; at the black coal-hole; at the shelves adorned159 with paper-lace; at the blacking-box and the bottle of brass-polish. And standing160 in the midst of all these witnesses of her weary life, she wept.
On the next day—that is, as they used to say, l’en demain, which happened to be market-day—M. Bergeret set out early to call on Deniseau, who kept a registry office for country servants in the Place Saint-Exupère. In the waiting-room he found a score of country girls waiting, some young, some old, some short, ruddy and chubby-cheeked, others tall, yellow and wizened161, all differing in face and figure, but all alike in one respect—that is, in the anxious fixity of their gaze, for they all saw their own fate in the person of every caller who happened to open the door. For a moment M. Bergeret stood looking at the group of girls who waited to be hired. Then he passed on into the office adorned with calendars, where Deniseau sat at a table covered with dirty registers and old horse-shoes that served as paper-weights.
He told the man that he required a servant, and apparently162 he wanted one with quite unusual244 qualities, for after ten minutes’ conversation he came out in very low spirits. Then, as he crossed the waiting-room a second time, he caught sight of a woman in a dark corner whom he had not noticed the first time. It was a long, thin shape that he beheld163, ageless and sexless, crowned by a bald, bony head, with a forehead set like an enormous sphere on a short nose that seemed nothing but nostril164. Through her open mouth her great horse-teeth were visible in all their nakedness, and under her drooping165 lip there was no chin to speak of. She stayed in her corner, neither moving nor looking, perhaps realising that she would not easily find anyone to hire her, and that others would be taken in preference to her. Yet she seemed quite satisfied with herself and quite easy in her mind. She was dressed like the women of the low-lying, agueish lands, and to her wide-brimmed, knitted hat clung pieces of straw.
For a long time M. Bergeret stood looking at her with saturnine166 admiration167. Then, pointing her out to Deniseau, he said: “The one over there will suit me.”
“Marie?” asked the man in a tone of surprise.
“Marie,” answered M. Bergeret.
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1
solitude
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| n. 孤独; 独居,荒僻之地,幽静的地方 | |
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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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sane
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| adj.心智健全的，神志清醒的，明智的，稳健的 | |
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epidemic
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| n.流行病；盛行；adj.流行性的，流传极广的 | |
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5
domesticated
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| adj.喜欢家庭生活的；（指动物）被驯养了的v.驯化( domesticate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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wedded
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| adj.正式结婚的；渴望…的，执著于…的v.嫁，娶，（与…）结婚( wed的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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lapse
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| n.过失，流逝，失效，抛弃信仰，间隔；vi.堕落，停止，失效，流逝；vt.使失效 | |
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homely
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| adj.家常的，简朴的；不漂亮的 | |
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Christian
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| adj.基督教徒的；n.基督教徒 | |
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lasting
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| adj.永久的，永恒的；vbl.持续，维持 | |
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effaced
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| 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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perspicuity
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| n.（文体的）明晰 | |
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instinctively
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| adv.本能地 | |
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trifling
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| adj.微不足道的；没什么价值的 | |
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malicious
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| adj.有恶意的，心怀恶意的 | |
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dignify
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| vt.使有尊严；使崇高；给增光 | |
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hurl
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| vt.猛投，力掷，声叫骂 | |
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entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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pangs
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| 突然的剧痛( pang的名词复数 )； 悲痛 | |
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despoiled
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| v.掠夺，抢劫( despoil的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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paltry
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| adj.无价值的，微不足道的 | |
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humiliation
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| n.羞辱 | |
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gaudy
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| adj.华而不实的；俗丽的 | |
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accusations
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| n.指责( accusation的名词复数 )；指控；控告；（被告发、控告的）罪名 | |
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deserted
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| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
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fortifying
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| 筑防御工事于( fortify的现在分词 )； 筑堡于； 增强； 强化（食品） | |
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craved
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| 渴望，热望( crave的过去式 )； 恳求，请求 | |
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longing
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| n.（for）渴望 | |
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vengeance
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| n.报复，报仇，复仇 | |
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frivolous
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| adj.轻薄的；轻率的 | |
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innocence
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| n.无罪；天真；无害 | |
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habitual
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| adj.习惯性的；通常的，惯常的 | |
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habitually
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| ad.习惯地，通常地 | |
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digestion
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| n.消化，吸收 | |
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impartial
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| adj.(in,to)公正的，无偏见的 | |
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37
eyelids
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| n.眼睑( eyelid的名词复数 )；眼睛也不眨一下；不露声色；面不改色 | |
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38
philologists
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| n.语文学( philology的名词复数 ) | |
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39
lexicon
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| n.字典，专门词汇 | |
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40
veneration
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| n.尊敬，崇拜 | |
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41
acting
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| n.演戏，行为，假装；adj.代理的，临时的，演出用的 | |
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42
seaman
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| n.海员，水手，水兵 | |
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43
nautical
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| adj.海上的，航海的，船员的 | |
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44
rhetoric
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| n.修辞学，浮夸之言语 | |
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45
mathematician
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| n.数学家 | |
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46
basked
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| v.晒太阳，取暖( bask的过去式和过去分词 )；对…感到乐趣；因他人的功绩而出名；仰仗…的余泽 | |
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47
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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48
furrow
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| n.沟；垄沟；轨迹；车辙；皱纹 | |
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49
furrows
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| n.犁沟( furrow的名词复数 )；（脸上的）皱纹v.犁田，开沟( furrow的第三人称单数 ) | |
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50
excellence
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| n.优秀，杰出，(pl.)优点，美德 | |
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51
philological
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| adj.语言学的，文献学的 | |
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52
fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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53
philology
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| n.语言学；语文学 | |
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54
varied
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| adj.多样的，多变化的 | |
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55
revelling
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| v.作乐( revel的现在分词 )；狂欢；着迷；陶醉 | |
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56
rendering
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| n.表现，描写 | |
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57
fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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58
abaft
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| prep.在…之后；adv.在船尾，向船尾 | |
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59
veered
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| v.（尤指交通工具）改变方向或路线( veer的过去式和过去分词 )；（指谈话内容、人的行为或观点）突然改变；（指风） （在北半球按顺时针方向、在南半球按逆时针方向）逐渐转向；风向顺时针转 | |
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60
guise
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| n.外表，伪装的姿态 | |
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61
lissom
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| adj.柔软的，轻快而优雅的 | |
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62
lanky
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| adj.瘦长的 | |
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63
conceits
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| 高傲( conceit的名词复数 )； 自以为； 巧妙的词语； 别出心裁的比喻 | |
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64
provincial
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| adj.省的，地方的；n．外省人，乡下人 | |
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65
shackled
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| 给（某人）带上手铐或脚镣( shackle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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66
plumbed
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| 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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67
trenchant
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| adj.尖刻的，清晰的 | |
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68
incapable
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| adj.无能力的，不能做某事的 | |
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69
humble
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| adj.谦卑的，恭顺的；地位低下的；v.降低，贬低 | |
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70
relentless
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| adj.残酷的，不留情的，无怜悯心的 | |
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71
misgivings
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| n.疑虑，担忧，害怕；疑虑，担心，恐惧( misgiving的名词复数 )；疑惧 | |
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72
immortal
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| adj.不朽的；永生的，不死的；神的 | |
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73
attained
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| （通常经过努力）实现( attain的过去式和过去分词 )； 达到； 获得； 达到（某年龄、水平、状况） | |
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74
revolving
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| adj.旋转的，轮转式的；循环的v.（使）旋转( revolve的现在分词 )；细想 | |
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75
mythological
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| adj.神话的 | |
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76
inadequacy
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| n.无法胜任，信心不足 | |
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77
folly
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| n.愚笨，愚蠢，蠢事，蠢行，傻话 | |
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78
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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79
juggler
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| n. 变戏法者, 行骗者 | |
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80
foisted
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| 强迫接受，把…强加于( foist的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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81
pretext
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| n.借口，托词 | |
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82
zeal
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| n.热心，热情，热忱 | |
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83
determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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84
slake
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| v.解渴，使平息 | |
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85
sobs
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| 啜泣（声），呜咽（声）( sob的名词复数 ) | |
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86
hoarse
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| adj.嘶哑的，沙哑的 | |
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87
croaks
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| v.呱呱地叫( croak的第三人称单数 )；用粗的声音说 | |
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88
furrowed
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| v.犁田，开沟( furrow的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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89
deformed
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| adj.畸形的；变形的；丑的，破相了的 | |
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90
apron
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| n.围裙；工作裙 | |
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91
stifled
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| （使）窒息， （使）窒闷( stifle的过去式和过去分词 )； 镇压，遏制； 堵 | |
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92
peevishly
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| adv．暴躁地 | |
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93
misery
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| n.痛苦，苦恼，苦难；悲惨的境遇，贫苦 | |
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94
inflamed
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| adj.发炎的，红肿的v.（使）变红，发怒，过热( inflame的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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95
virtue
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| n.德行，美德；贞操；优点；功效，效力 | |
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96
liaison
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| n.联系，（未婚男女间的）暖昧关系，私通 | |
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97
concierge
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| n.管理员；门房 | |
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98
censured
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| v.指责，非难，谴责( censure的过去式 ) | |
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99
pranks
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| n.玩笑，恶作剧( prank的名词复数 ) | |
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100
middle-aged
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| adj.中年的 | |
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101
scorch
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| v.烧焦，烤焦；高速疾驶；n.烧焦处，焦痕 | |
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102
scorching
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| adj. 灼热的 | |
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103
buxom
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| adj.（妇女）丰满的，有健康美的 | |
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104
braces
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| n.吊带，背带；托架( brace的名词复数 )；箍子；括弧；（儿童）牙箍v.支住( brace的第三人称单数 )；撑牢；使自己站稳；振作起来 | |
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105
chastised
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| v.严惩（某人）（尤指责打）( chastise的过去式 ) | |
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106
thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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107
bristles
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| 短而硬的毛发，刷子毛( bristle的名词复数 ) | |
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108
sullen
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| adj.愠怒的，闷闷不乐的，(天气等)阴沉的 | |
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109
unnatural
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| adj.不自然的；反常的 | |
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110
positively
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| adv.明确地，断然，坚决地；实在，确实 | |
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111
sustenance
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| n.食物，粮食；生活资料；生计 | |
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112
expenditure
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| n.(时间、劳力、金钱等)支出；使用，消耗 | |
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113
mingling
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| adj.混合的 | |
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114
minced
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| v.切碎( mince的过去式和过去分词 )；剁碎；绞碎；用绞肉机绞（食物，尤指肉） | |
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115
revelled
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| v.作乐( revel的过去式和过去分词 )；狂欢；着迷；陶醉 | |
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116
kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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117
vexed
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| adj.争论不休的；（指问题等）棘手的；争论不休的问题；烦恼的v.使烦恼( vex的过去式和过去分词 )；使苦恼；使生气；详细讨论 | |
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118
primitive
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| adj.原始的；简单的；n.原(始)人，原始事物 | |
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119
ferocious
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| adj.凶猛的，残暴的，极度的，十分强烈的 | |
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120
motive
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| n.动机，目的；adv.发动的，运动的 | |
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121
slaughter
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| n.屠杀，屠宰；vt.屠杀，宰杀 | |
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122
stimulus
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| n.刺激，刺激物，促进因素，引起兴奋的事物 | |
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123
fable
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| n.寓言；童话；神话 | |
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124
sop
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| n.湿透的东西，懦夫；v.浸，泡，浸湿 | |
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125
philosophical
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| adj.哲学家的，哲学上的，达观的 | |
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126
temperament
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| n.气质，性格，性情 | |
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127
murmur
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| n.低语，低声的怨言；v.低语，低声而言 | |
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128
recesses
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| n.壁凹( recess的名词复数 )；（工作或业务活动的）中止或暂停期间；学校的课间休息；某物内部的凹形空间v.把某物放在墙壁的凹处( recess的第三人称单数 )；将（墙）做成凹形，在（墙）上做壁龛；休息，休会，休庭 | |
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129
woes
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| 困境( woe的名词复数 )； 悲伤； 我好苦哇； 某人就要倒霉 | |
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130
compassion
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| n.同情，怜悯 | |
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131
creeds
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| （尤指宗教）信条，教条( creed的名词复数 ) | |
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132
contemptible
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| adj.可鄙的，可轻视的，卑劣的 | |
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133
disposition
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| n.性情，性格；意向，倾向；排列，部署 | |
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134
opposition
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| n.反对，敌对 | |
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135
noted
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| adj.著名的，知名的 | |
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136
feign
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| vt.假装，佯作 | |
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137
condemn
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| vt.谴责，指责；宣判(罪犯)，判刑 | |
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138
condemns
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| v.（通常因道义上的原因而）谴责( condemn的第三人称单数 )；宣判；宣布…不能使用；迫使…陷于不幸的境地 | |
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139
judgment
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| n.审判；判断力，识别力，看法，意见 | |
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140
immoral
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| adj.不道德的，淫荡的，荒淫的，有伤风化的 | |
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141
malefactor
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| n.罪犯 | |
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142
systematic
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| adj.有系统的，有计划的，有方法的 | |
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143
unbearable
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| adj.不能容忍的；忍受不住的 | |
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144
gregarious
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| adj.群居的，喜好群居的 | |
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145
vigour
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| （=vigor）n.智力，体力，精力 | |
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146
invincible
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| adj.不可征服的，难以制服的 | |
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147
lust
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| n.性(淫)欲；渴(欲)望；vi.对…有强烈的欲望 | |
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148
undertaking
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| n.保证，许诺，事业 | |
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149
transparent
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| adj.明显的，无疑的；透明的 | |
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150
ruffled
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| adj. 有褶饰边的, 起皱的 动词ruffle的过去式和过去分词 | |
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151
hatred
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| n.憎恶，憎恨，仇恨 | |
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152
invective
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| n.痛骂，恶意抨击 | |
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153
plaintive
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| adj.可怜的，伤心的 | |
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154
dented
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| v.使产生凹痕( dent的过去式和过去分词 )；损害；伤害；挫伤（信心、名誉等） | |
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155
valiant
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| adj.勇敢的，英勇的；n.勇士，勇敢的人 | |
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156
cistern
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| n.贮水池 | |
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157
overflowing
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| n. 溢出物,溢流 adj. 充沛的，充满的 动词overflow的现在分词形式 | |
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158
notched
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| a.有凹口的，有缺口的 | |
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159
adorned
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| [计]被修饰的 | |
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160
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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161
wizened
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| adj.凋谢的；枯槁的 | |
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162
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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163
beheld
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| 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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164
nostril
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| n.鼻孔 | |
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165
drooping
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| adj. 下垂的，无力的 动词droop的现在分词 | |
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166
saturnine
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| adj.忧郁的，沉默寡言的，阴沉的，感染铅毒的 | |
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167
admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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