A sudden thrill of pride gave him complete self-control. He bowed to the Queen and to Donna Andriano Duodo, who smiled upon him with the same twin smiles he had seen from the gliding6 gondola7 on the Grand Canal. He threw a keen glance toward the scintillating8 first rows, seeking La Foscarina, then looked toward the farther end of the hall, where only a dark zone, dotted with white spots, could be distinguished9. The silent, attentive10 multitude seemed to him like an enormous, many-eyed chimera11, its breast covered with glittering scales, extending its black bulk under the arches of the rich, heavy ceiling that hung over it like a suspended treasure.
Dazzling was that chimeric12 breast, where sparkled necklaces that must once have flashed their fires under the same ceiling on the night of a coronation banquet. The tiara and the necklaces of the Queen—the rows of pearls, like grains of light, somehow suggesting the miraculous13 image of a smile just about to appear—the dark emeralds of Andriano Duodo, taken long ago from the handle of a scimitar; the rubies14 of Giustiniana Memo15, set in the semblance16 of carnations17 by the inimitable craftsmanship18 of Vettor Camelio; the sapphires19 of Lucrezia Priuli, taken from the shoes in which the Most Serene20 Zilia had walked to her throne on the day of her triumph; the beryls of Orsetta Contarini, delicately set in dull gold by the art of Silvestro Grifo; the turquoises21 of Zenobia Corner, bathed in a strange pallor by the mysterious malady22 that, in a single night, changed them as they lay on the warm breast of the Princess de Lusignan, among the delights of Asolo—all the rich jewels that had illumined the nights of the Anadyomenean city glowed with renewed fire on the breast of the chimera, from which rose a moist odor of feminine breaths and many perfumes. The rest of that strangely marked and shapeless body extended to the rear of the hall, in a sort of long tail, passing between the two gigantic spheres, which recalled to the memory of the "Image-maker" the two bronze spheres that the monster with the bandaged eyes presses with his paws in Giambellino's allegory. And this vast animal life, devoid23 of all thought for the time before him who alone at that moment must think, endowed with the inert24 fascination25 of enigmatic idols26, covered with its own silence as with a shield capable of receiving and resisting any shock, awaited the first thrill of his dominating word.
Stelio Effrena measured this silence, upon which his first syllable27 must fall. While his voice was rising to his lips, an effort of will summoning it and fortifying28 it against instinctive29 hesitation30, he perceived La Foscarina standing31 near the railing that encircled the celestial32 sphere. The pale face of the tragic33 actress rose from her bare neck, and the purity of her white shoulders was just above the orbit of the zodiacal figures. Stelio admired the art of this apparition34. With his own eyes fixed35 upon those distant, adoring ones, he began to speak slowly, as if the rhythm of the oars37 still lingered in his ears.
"One afternoon, not long ago, while I was returning from the gardens along the warm bank of the Schiavoni, where the souls of poets sometimes believe they see I know not what magic golden bridge spanning a sea of light and silence toward a dream of infinite beauty, I thought—or rather, I witnessed with my thoughts, as at some intimate spectacle—of the nuptial38 alliance, under those skies, of Autumn and Venice.
"Everywhere was disseminated39 a spirit of life, arising from passionate40 expectation and restrained ardor41, which made me marvel42 at its vehemence43, but which seemed not altogether new to me; I had already seen it in some shadowy zones, under the almost death-like immobility of Summer; and sometimes I had felt it vibrating, like a mysterious pulse, in the strange feverish44 odor of the water. Thus, I thought, it is true, then, that this pure city of Art aspires45 to a supreme46 state of beauty which for her returns annually47, as the flowers return to the forest. She tends to reveal herself in full harmony, as if always she bore within her bosom48, powerful and conscious, the same desire of perfection from which she sprang and was formed throughout the ages, like some divine creature. Under the motionless fire of Summer, she seemed to palpitate no more, to breathe no more, but to lie dead in her green waters. My feeling did not deceive me, however, when I fancied I saw her secretly inspired by a spirit of life sufficient to renew the most sublime49 of the ancient miracles.
"That is what I thought, and what I saw. But how can I convey to you that listen to me any idea of that vision of joy and beauty? No sunrise, no sunset, could equal the glory of that hour of light on the water and the marble. The unexpected apparition of the beloved woman in a forest in springtime could not be as intoxicating50 as this sudden revelation by daylight of the heroic and voluptuous51 city, which carries in its marble embrace the richest dream of a Latin soul."
The voice of the orator52, clear, penetrating53, almost icy at the beginning, was suddenly warmed by the invisible sparks kindled54 within him by the effort of improvisation56, yet governed by the extreme nicety of his ear. While his words flowed without hesitation, and the rhythmic57 line of his periods set forth58 their beauty with the clearness of a figure drawn59 at one stroke by a bold hand, his auditors60 were conscious of the excessive tension of his mind, and it captivated them as one of those terrifying feats61 at the circus, where all the herculean energies of the athlete show the test by his quivering tendons and swelling62 arteries63. They felt the reality, the living warmth of the thought thus expressed, and their pleasure was the greater because unexpected, for most of his auditors had anticipated from this indefatigable64 searcher after perfection the studied reading of a laboriously68 composed discourse69. His devotees observed with emotion this audacious test, as if they saw before them, unveiled, the secret labor67 that had brought forth the forms that had given them so much joy. And this first wave of emotion, spreading by contagion70, indefinitely multiplied and becoming unanimous, returned to him who caused it, and seemed almost to overcome him.
This was the expected danger. Under the pressure of a wave so strong, the speaker faltered71. For a few seconds a thick cloud darkened his brain; the light of his mind was extinguished, as a torch before an irresistible72 wind; his eyes grew dim, as if he were about to faint. But he felt how mortifying73 would be the shame of defeat if he yielded to this seizure74; and in that darkness, by a sort of effort of brute75 force, or like the striking of steel on flint, his will rose in triumph over the instinctive weakness. With glance and gesture, he directed the eyes of the assemblage to the great masterpiece in the ceiling of that hall, spreading there in a kind of sun-like radiance.
"I am certain," he exclaimed, "that Venice appeared thus to Paolo Veronese, when he sought within himself for an image of the Queen triumphant76."
He explained the reason why the great master, after throwing upon his canvas a profusion77 of gold, jewels, silks, purple, ermine, and all imaginable richness, at last could represent the glorious face only in the nimbus of a shadow.
"We ought to exalt78 Veronese for that shadowy veil alone! Representing by a human face the Queen of Cities, he yet knew how to express its essential spirit, whose symbol was an inextinguishable flame seen through a watery79 veil. And one I know well, who, having plunged80 his soul in this sublime element, has withdrawn81 it enriched with a new power, and consequently has lived a fuller and more ardent82 spiritual life."
This one he knew well—was it not himself? In the assertion of his own personality he found again all his courage, and felt that henceforth he was master of his thoughts and words, freed from danger, capable of drawing within the charmed circle of his dream the enormous, many-eyed chimera, with the glittering breast—the ephemeral and versatile83 monster from whose side emerged its offspring, the Tragic Muse84, her head rising above the constellations85.
Obedient to his movement, the innumerable faces turned toward the Apotheosis86, their awakened87 eyes contemplating88 with wonder this marvel, as if they beheld89 it for the first time, or under a new aspect. The naked back of the woman with the golden helmet shone under the cloud with an effect of muscular life so perfect that it looked as attractive as palpable flesh. And, from this nudity, more realistic than all the rest, victorious90 over Time, which had darkened around it heroic images of sieges and battles, seemed to emanate91 a powerful enchantment92, the sweetness of which was augmented93 by the breath of the autumn night coming through the open windows; while, from above, the princesses of a former day, leaning over the balustrades between two columns, inclined their illumined faces and opulent breasts toward their worldly sisters below.
Under the new spell of enchantment, the poet threw off his winged words, harmonious94 as lyric95 strophes. He described the Queen City palpitating with ardor within her thousand green girdles, extending her marble arms toward the wild Autumn, whose humid breath reached her, balmy with the delicious death of the fields and islands, making her sigh like a bride awaiting her hour of joy. By the magic of his words, Venice seemed to be possessed96 of marvelous hands, with which she wove for herself the inimitable tissue of allegory that covered her.
"And since, in all the world, poetry alone is truth, he that knows how to contemplate97 it, and to draw it into his own soul by the virtue98 of his thought, will be very near to mastering the secret of victory over life."
In pronouncing these last words, Stelio sought the eyes of Daniele Glauro, and saw that they sparkled with happiness beneath that large, meditative99 brow, which seemed swollen100 by the weight of an unborn world. The mystic doctor was there, near the platform, with several of those unknown disciples101 that he had described to the master as eager and anxious, full of faith and expectation, impatient to break the chain of their daily servitude, and to know the free intoxication102 of joy and sadness. Stelio noted103 that they were grouped, like a nucleus104 of compressed force, against the great red bookcases, wherein lay buried innumerable volumes of useless and forgotten lore105. He marked their eager and attentive faces, their long hair, their lips, half parted with child-like absorption, or closed tightly in a kind of violent sensitiveness, their bright eyes, to which the breath of his words carried lights and shadows, as a changeful breeze stirs a parterre of delicate flowers. He felt that in his own hand he held all their souls blended into one spirit, which he could at will agitate106, crush, tear, or burn, as if it were a filmy scarf.
While his mind expanded and relaxed, in its continued effort, he still retained a strange power of exterior107 investigation108, a faculty109 of material observation which became the clearer and more penetrating with the warmth and quickening of his eloquence110.
Suddenly he saw with his mental vision the picture he wished to present, and his verbal expression of it was after the manner of the master painters that had reigned111 in that place, with the luxuriance of Veronese, and the fire of Tintoretto.
"All the vitalities and all the transfigurations of the ancient stones, where Time has accumulated so many mysteries, and where glory has set her emblems112; all the alternations of marvelously easy creations and destructions were reflected in the water; the effulgence113 of a jubilant light glittered between the crosses of cupolas inflated114 by prayer, and the slender saline crystals hanging under the arch of the bridges. Like a sentinel on a rampart uttering his shrill115 cry to him that listens for the signal, so the golden angel from the summit of the highest tower at last flashed out the announcement.
"And He appeared! The Bridegroom appeared, seated in his fiery116 chariot, which he turned toward the Queen of Cities, and in his youthful, superhuman countenance117 was a strange fascination springing from an animal-like cruelty and delicacy118 contrasting with the deep eyes, full of all knowledge. His blood rioted through his veins119, from the tips of his fingers to his nimble feet; mysterious, occult things veiled his being, concealing120 joy as the grape in bloom conceals121 the vine; and all the tawny122 gold and purple that surrounded him were like the vestment of his senses.
"With what passion, throbbing123 under her thousand emerald girdles, and the richness of her jewels, the Queen of Cities gave herself to the magnificent god!"
Swept up in this rushing flight of words, the soul of the multitude seemed to reach the sentiment of Beauty, as if it were a summit never before attained124. The pulse of the people and the voice of the poet seemed to give back to those ancient walls their former life, and to reawaken in that cold museum its original spirit: a flood of powerful ideas, concrete, and organized in the most durable125 substance to attest126 the nobility of a great race.
The splendor127 of divine youth descended128 upon the women, as it might have descended in a sumptuous129 alcove130, for each felt within herself the breathlessness of expectation and the joy of yielding, like that of the Queen of Cities. They smiled with vague languor131 as if wearied by the strain upon their emotions; their cool, polished shoulders rose from their corollas of jewels.
Stelio looked down upon the sparkling breast of the great, many-eyed chimera, on which rose and fell many fluttering feather fans, like tiny wings; and over his spirit passed an intoxicating glow that disquieted132 him. The vibration133 of his nerves, acting134 upon those of his auditors and thus reacting upon himself, unsettled him so much as almost to unbalance him. For an instant he felt that he was oscillating above the crowd, like a concave and sonorous135 body, the resonances137 of which were engendered138 by an indistinct yet infallible will.
He was surprised at the unknown power that dwelt within him, abolishing his own personal limits and conferring the fulness of a chorus on his single voice.
This, then, was the mysterious truce139 which the revelation of Beauty could grant to the daily existence of wearied man; this was the mysterious will that could possess the poet at the moment when he replied to the souls of his followers140 who questioned him as to the value of life and tried to raise themselves, if only once, to the height of the eternal Ideal. He was only the messenger through whom Beauty offered to those men, assembled in this place consecrated141 by centuries of human glory, the divine gift of oblivion. He was only the translator into rhythmic speech of the visible language whereby, in this same place, the noble craftsmen142 of a former day had expressed the prayers and aspirations143 of the race. And for one hour, at least, those men would contemplate the world with different eyes; they would think and dream with different souls.
In fancy, he passed beyond the walls that enclosed the palpitating throng144 in a kind of heroic cycle, a circle of red triremes, fortified145 towers, and triumphal theories. The place now seemed too narrow for the exaltation of his new feeling; and once more he was drawn toward the real people, the immense, unanimous crowd he had seen outside the palace, who had sent upward in the starry146 night a clamor that, like blood or wine, intoxicated147 them as they uttered it.
And not alone to this multitude did his thoughts turn; his fancy beheld an infinity148 of multitudes, massed together in theaters, dominated by an idea of truth and of beauty, pale and intent before the great arch of the stage, which should open before them some marvelous transfiguration of life, or frenzied149 by the sudden splendor radiating from an immortal150 phrase. And the dream of a higher Art, as it surged up again in his thought showed him mankind once more reverencing151 poets, as those who alone can interrupt at intervals152 its daily anguish153, quench154 its thirst, and dispense155 oblivion. He even judged too slight the test he was now undergoing; he felt himself capable of creating gigantic fictions. The still formless work that he nourished in his soul shook him with a thrill of life as he looked again at the tragedienne, standing above the sphere of constellations—the Muse with the transcendent voice, who seemed to carry the frenzy157 of far-off throngs158, now silenced, in the classic folds of her robes.
Almost overcome by the incredible intensity159 of emotion that had possessed him during the brief pause, he began to speak again in a lower tone. He spoke160 of the growth of art between the youth of Giorgione and the old age of Tintoretto, and described it as golden, purple, rich and expressive161 as the pomp of the earth irradiated by the glow of sunset.
"When I consider the impetuous creators of such marvelous beauty, my mind recalls an image from a fragment of Pindar's: 'When the centaurs162 became acquainted with the virtues163 of wine, sweet as honey and a conqueror164 of men, they banished165 milk from their tables and hastened to quaff166 their wine from silver horns.' No one in the world better knew than they how to taste the wine of life. They drew from it a kind of lucid167 intoxication that multiplied their powers and communicated to their eloquence a fertilizing168 energy. And in their greatest creations, the violent throbbing of their pulses seems to have persisted throughout the ages, like the veritable rhythm of Venetian art.
"Ah, how pure and poetic169 is the slumber170 of the Virgin171 Ursula on her immaculate bed! The most religious silence reigns172 in that chamber173, where the pious175 lips of the sleeper176 seem to form themselves into the act of uttering prayer. Through the doors and the windows steals the timid light of dawn, illumining the syllables177 inscribed178 on her pillow: INFANTIA is the simple word that spreads around that virginal head, like the fresh aurora179 of the morning: INFANTIA. She sleeps, the maiden180 already betrothed181 to the pagan prince and destined182 to martyrdom. So chaste184, so ingenuous185, so fervent186, is she not the image of Art such as the precursors187 saw it, with the sincerity188 of their child-like eyes? INFANTIA! The word evokes189 around that couch all those forgotten ones: Lorenzo Veneziano, Simone da Cusighe, Catarino, Jacobello, Maestro Paolo, Giambono, Semitecolo, Antonio, Andrea, Quirizio da Murano, and all the laborious66 family by whom color—which later was the rival of fire—was prepared in the burning island of furnaces. But would not they themselves have uttered a cry of admiration190 if they had seen the drops of blood that sprang from the maiden's heart when it was pierced by the arrow of the beautiful pagan archer65? A current so red from a virgin nourished on white milk! This victory was a sort of festival: to it the archers191 brought their finest bows, their richest garments, their most elegant air. The golden-haired barbarian192, aiming his arrows at the martyr183, with a movement so proud and graceful193, does he not resemble an adolescent and wingless Eros? That gracious slayer194 of innocence195 (or perhaps his brother), after laying aside his bow, will abandon himself to the enchantment of music to dream a dream of infinite pleasure.
"It was indeed Giorgione that poured into him a new soul, and kindled it with an implacable longing196. The music that charms him is not the melody that last night the lutes diffused197 among the curving arches, over radiant thrones, or diminishing in the silence of distances in the visions of the third Bellini. Under the touch of religious hands, it still rises from the harpsichord198; but the world it awakens199 is full of a joy and a sadness wherein sin hides its head.
"He that has looked at the Concerto200 with the eyes of wisdom has comprehended an extraordinary and irrevocable moment of the Venetian soul. By means of a harmony of color—whose power of expression is as boundless201 as the mystery of sounds—the artist reveals the first agitation202 of an eager spirit to whom life has suddenly appeared under the aspect of a rich inheritance.
"The monk203, seated at his harpsichord, and his older companion, do not resemble those monks204 that Vettor Carpaccio represented as flying before the wild beast tamed by Jerome, in San Giorgio degli Schiavoni. Their essence is nobler and stronger; they breathe an atmosphere higher and richer, propitious205 to the birth of a great joy, a great sadness, or a superb dream. What notes do those beautiful, sensitive hands draw from the keys on which they linger? Magic notes, no doubt, since they have power to work in the musician a transfiguration so great. He is half-way through his mortal existence, already far from his youth and near his decline, yet only now life reveals itself to him, rich with all good things, like a forest full of ripe, red fruit, the velvety206 freshness of which his always busy hands never before have known. As his senses still slumber, he has not yet fallen under the domination of a single seductive image, but he suffers a sort of confused anguish wherein regret overcomes desire, while in the web of harmonies that he seeks, the vision of his past—but only as it might have been and was not—weaves itself like the tissue of a chimera.
"His companion divines this inner agitation, for he is already at the threshold of old age; calm, sweet, and serious, he touches the shoulder of the passionate player with a pacifying207 movement. But there, emerging from the warm shadows like the embodiment of youthful ardor itself, is the young man with hat beplumed and flowing locks, the glowing flower of adolescence208 which Giorgione created under the influence of a reflection from that Hellenic myth whence arose the ideal form of Hermaphrodite. He is there, present, yet a stranger, separated from the others, like a being that cares only for his own welfare. The music exalts209 his inexpressible dream, and seems to multiply indefinitely his capacity to enjoy. He knows himself master of that life which escapes the other two, and the harmonies sought by the musician seem to him only the prelude210 to his own feast. His glance is sidewise and intent, turned toward a certain point, as if he would attract to himself something that charms him; his closed lips are ready with a kiss as yet ungiven; his brow is so spacious211 that the thickest garland would not encumber212 it; but if I think of his hands, I fancy them crushing the laurel leaves to perfume his fingers."
The hands of the Inspirer illustrated213 the gesture of the covetous214 youth, as if they were really pressing out the essence of the aromatic215 leaf; and his voice lent to the image an illusion so strong that the young men felt that here at last was one who could express their cherished and secret thoughts and dreams, and give voice to their unspeakable, continuous, and ceaseless longings216. They occupied the free space at the back of the seated audience, making a living border for that compact mass; and, as the edges of a flag that waves in the breeze have a stronger flutter, these youthful hearts beat faster than those of older men at the warm breath of the poet's words.
Stelio recognized them, distinguishing them by their singularity of attitude, the intensity of emotion revealed by their compressed lips and the glow of ardor in their cheeks. On the face of one, turned toward the open balcony, he read the enchantment of the autumn night, and the delicious breeze coming from the lagoon217. The glance of another indicated, by a ray of love, some woman, seated near by, looking as if she were lost in tender recollections, her face white, her red lips slightly parted, like the entrance to a hive moist with honey.
His eyes continually returned to the promised woman, who looked as she stood there like the living support of a starry sphere. He was grateful to her for her choice of this manner of appearing to him when, for the first time, he gave himself to the people. He no longer regarded her as merely the passing fancy of a single night, a woman ripened218 by long experience, but the marvelous instrument of a new art, the interpreter of the greatest poetry, she that should incarnate219 in her changeful personality his future fictions of beauty, she whose unforgettable voice should carry to mankind the long-expected word. He now felt attached to her, not by a promise of love, but by a promise of glory; and the formless work that he still cherished in his breast again leaped within him.
"You that listen to me," he continued, "do you not see some analogy between these three symbols of Giorgione's and the three generations, all living at the same time, that illumined the dawn of a new century? Venice, the City Triumphant, reveals herself to their eyes like a great, a superabundant banquet, where all the riches accumulated throughout centuries of war and commerce are to be set out without stint220. What richer fountain of pleasure could there be to initiate221 life in insatiable desire? It is a time of agitation, almost of distraction222, which, because of its fulness, is worth an hour of heroic violence. Alluring223 voices and laughter seem to float from the hills of Asolo where, surrounded by all delights, reigns the daughter of San Marco, Domina Aceli, who found in a myrtle grove224 of Cyprus the cincture of Aphrodite. Now approaches the youth with the white plumes225; he comes to the banquet, followed by his uncurbed escort, and all desires kindle55 and burn like torches quickened by the wind. And this was the beginning of that divine Autumn of Art toward which men will always turn with deep emotion as long as the human soul strives to transcend156 the narrowness of its common existence in order to live a life more fervent or to die a nobler death.
"I see Giorgione imminent226 on the marvelous sphere, but I do not recognize his mortal person; I seek him in the mystery of the fiery cloud that envelops227 him. He appears to us more myth-like than human. The destiny of no poet on earth is comparable to his. All concerning his life is unknown; some even go so far as to deny his existence. His name is inscribed on no work, and many refuse to attribute any work to him with absolute certainty. But the whole of Venetian art was illumined by his revelation; it was from him that the great Titian received the secret of infusing glowing blood into the veins of the beings he created. In fact, that which Giorgione represents in Art is the Epiphany of the Flame. He deserves to be called 'the Flame-Bearer,' like Prometheus.
"When I consider the rapidity with which this sacred gift has passed from one artist to another, glowing with increasing splendor from color to color, I think of one of those lampadeforie, or festivals, in which the Greeks tried to perpetuate229 the memory of the Titan son of Japetus. On the day of the festival, a group of young Athenian horsemen would set off at a gallop230, riding from Ceramicus to Colonos, their chief waving a torch that had been lighted at the altar of a temple. If the torch was extinguished by the swiftness of the course, the bearer handed it to a companion, who re-lighted it as he rode; and this one gave it to a third; the third to a fourth, and so on, always galloping231, until the last bearer laid it, still alight, on the altar of the Titan. This image, with all it suggests of fiery vehemence, represents to my fancy the feast of the master-colorists of Venice. Each of them, even to the least illustrious, held in his hand the sacred gift, if only for an instant. Some of them, like that first Bonifacio, whom we should glorify232, gathered with incombustible fingers the inmost flower of the flame."
His fingers made a movement in the air as if to pluck the ideal flower. His eyes turned again toward the celestial sphere, as if he wished to offer the fiery gift to her who guarded the divine zodiacal beasts. "To you, Perdita!" But the woman was smiling at some one at a distance.
Following the thread of her smile, Stelio's eyes were led to an unknown woman, who suddenly seemed to stand out illumined against a shadowy background.
Was not that the creature of music whose name had resounded233 against the iron sides of the ship that evening, in the silence and the shadow?
She seemed to Stelio to be almost an interior image, suddenly engendered in that part of his soul where the brief sensation he had felt while passing through the shadow of the vessel234 had remained like an isolated235 and indistinct point. For a second she was beautiful—as beautiful as were his yet unexpressed thoughts.
"The city to which such creators have given a soul so powerful," he continued, floating himself on the rising wave, "is considered to-day, by the greater number, only as a vast inert reliquary, or as a refuge of peace and oblivion.
"In truth, I know of no other place in the world—unless it be Rome—where a bold and ambitious spirit can better foster the active virtue of his intellect, and all the energies of his being toward the supreme heights, than on these quiet waters. I know of no marsh236 capable of provoking in human pulses a fever more violent that that which at times steals up to us from the shadows of a silent canal. Nor do those men who, at noontide in the midsummer heat, lie among the ripe grain, feel in their veins a more fiery wave of blood than that which suffuses237 our eyes when we lean too intently over these waters, to see whether, perchance, we may descry238 in their depths some old sword or ancient diadem239.
"Do not all gracious spirits come hither, as to a place of sweet refuge—those that hide some secret pain, those that have accomplished240 some final renunciation, those that have become weak through some morbid241 affection, and those that seek silence only to hear the soft step of advancing Death? Perhaps in their fading eyes Venice appears like a clement242 city of death, embraced by the waters of oblivion. But their presence is no more important than the wandering weeds that float at the foot of the steps of the marble palaces. They only increase the odor of sickly things, that strange, feverish odor on which at times, toward evening, after a laborious day, we nourish the fulness of our own feelings.
"But the ambiguous city does not always indulge the illusions of those that look to her as a giver of peace. I know one who, in the midst of sweet repose243 on her breast, started up as terror-struck as if when lying beside his loved one, with her hand resting on his weary eyelids244, he had heard serpents hissing245 in her hair!
"Ah, if I only knew how to tell you of that prodigious246 life which palpitates beneath her great necklaces and her thousand green girdles! Not a day passes that she does not absorb more and more of our souls: sometimes she gives them back to us fresh and intact, restored to their original newness, whereon to-morrow's events will be imprinted247 with indelible clearness; again, she gives them back to us infinitely248 subtle and voracious249, like a flame that destroys all that it touches, so that, at evening, among the cinders250 and the ashes, we may light upon some wonderful sublimate251. Each day she urges us to the act that is the very genesis of our species: the unceasing effort to surpass ourselves. She shows us the possibility of transforming pain into the most efficacious stimulating252 energy; she teaches us that pleasure is the most certain means of knowledge given to us by Nature, and that the man who has suffered much is less wise than he that has enjoyed much."
At these audacious words, a slight murmur of disapproval253 passed over the auditorium254; the Queen shook her head ever so little, in token of denial; several ladies, in a rapid exchange of glances, seemed to signify to one another a sentiment of graceful horror. But these signs were overbalanced by the acclamation of youthful approval that rose from all sides toward him that taught with a boldness so frank the art of rising to the superior forms of life by the virtue of joy.
Stelio smiled as he recognized his own, and so numerous; he smiled to recognize the efficacy of his teaching, which already, in more than one spirit, had dissipated the clouds of inert sadness, shown it the cowardice255 of weak tears, and infused it with a lasting256 disdain257 for feeble complaint and soft compassion258. He rejoiced at having been able to proclaim once more the principle of his doctrine259, emanating260 naturally from the soul of the art he glorified261. And those that had retired262 to a hermit's cell, there to adore a sad phantom263 that lived only in the dim mirror of their own eyes; those that had created themselves kings of palaces without windows, where, from time immemorial, they had awaited a Visitation; those that had sought to unearth264 among ruins the image of Beauty, but who had found only a worn sphinx, which had tormented265 them with its endless enigmas266; those that stood every evening at their thresholds to greet the mysterious Stranger bearing gifts under his mantle267, and who, with pale cheeks, laid their ears against the ground to catch the first sound of the Stranger's approach; those whose souls were sterilized268 by resigned mourning or devoured269 by desperate pride; those that were hardened by useless obstinacy270, or deprived of sleep by hope continually disappointed—all these spirits he wished now to summon that they might recognize their ailment271 under the splendor of that ancient yet ever-new soul.
"In truth," said he, in a tone full of exultation272, "if the whole population, abandoning their homes, should emigrate, attracted to-day toward other shores as formerly273 their heroic youth were tempted274 by the arch of the Bosphorus, in the time of the Doge Pietro Ziani, and the voice of prayer should no more strike against the sonorous gold of the concave mosaics275, nor the sound of the oar36 perpetuate with its rhythmic stroke the meditation276 of the silent stones, Venice would still remain a City of Life. The ideal creatures protected by its silence live in the whole past and for the whole future. In them we shall always discover new concordances with the edifice277 of the universe, unforeseen meetings with the idea born only yesterday, clear announcements of that which is with us only a presentiment278 as yet, open answers to that which as yet we have not dared to ask.
"These ideal creatures are simple, but they are full of innumerable meanings; they are ingenuous, yet are clothed in strange attire279. Should we contemplate them for an indefinite time, they never would cease to pour dissimilar truths into our minds. Should we visit them every day, every day they would appear to us under a new aspect, as do the sea, the rivers, the fields, the woods, the rocks. At times the things they say to us do not really reach our intellects, but reveal themselves to us in a sort of confused happiness, which causes our own substance to dilate280 and quiver to its inmost depths. Some bright day they will point out to us the path to the distant forest, wherein Beauty has awaited us from time immemorial, buried in her mystic hair.
"Whence came to them their immeasurable power?
"From the pure unconsciousness of the artificers that created them.
"Those profound men ignored the immensity of the things they wished to express. Penetrating with a million roots into the soil of life, not like single trees, but like vast forests, they absorbed infinite elements, which they transfused281 and condensed into ideal species, whose essences nevertheless remained unknown to them, as the flavor of the apple is unknown to the branch that bears it. They were the mysterious means chosen by Nature in her effort to represent in an integral form those types in which she has not yet succeeded. Because of this, continuing the work of the Divine Mother, their minds, as Leonardo says, have become transformed into 'a likeness282 of the Divine Mind.' And because creative force rushed to their fingers incessantly283, like sap to the buds of trees, they created with joy."
All the desire of the determined284 artist, panting and struggling to obtain this Olympian gift, all his envy of those gigantic creators of Beauty, all his insatiable thirst for happiness and glory, were revealed in the tone in which he pronounced these last words. Once more the soul of the multitude was under the magic of the poet's spell, strained and vibrating like a single cord composed of a thousand strands285, the resonance136 of which could be incalculably prolonged. That resonance awakened within the multitude the sense of a truth that had lain dormant286, but which the poet's words now revealed for the first time.
"To create with joy! It is the attribute of Divinity! It is impossible to imagine at the summit of the spirit an act more triumphal. Even the words that signify it possess something of the splendor of sunrise.
"And these artists created by a medium that is in itself a joyous290 mystery: by color, which is the ornament291 of the world; by color, which seems the effort of matter to become light.
"And the newly awakened musical sense they had for color was such that their creations transcend the narrow limits of figured symbols, and assume the high revealing power of an infinite harmony.
"Never have the words of Vinci, on whom Truth flashed one day with her thousand secrets, appeared so true as when we stand before the great symphonic canvases of the masters: 'Music cannot be called anything but the sister of Painting.' They are not alone silent poetry, but also silent music. The most subtle seekers of rare symbols, and those most desirous to impress the sign of an internal universe on the purity of a meditative brow, seem to us almost sterile292 compared with these great unconscious musicians.
"When we behold293 Bonifacio, in the parable228 of Dives, intoning with a note of fire the most powerful harmony of color in which the essence of a proud and voluptuous nature ever has revealed itself, we do not ask questions about the blond youth, listening to the music and seated between the two magnificent courtesans, whose faces glow like lamps of purest amber174; but, passing beneath the material symbol, we abandon ourselves to the power of evocation294 of those chords, wherein our spirits seem to-day to find a presentiment of I know not what evening, heavy with beautiful destiny and autumnal gold, in a harbor as quiet as a basin of perfumed oil where a galley295 palpitating with oriflammes shall enter with a strange silence, like a butterfly of twilight296 darting297 into the chalice298 of some great flower.
"Shall we not, with our mortal eyes, really see it, some glorious evening, approaching the Palace of the Doges? Does it not appear to us from a prophetic horizon in the Allegory of Autumn which Tintoretto offers us, like a superior, concrete image of our dream of yesterday?
"Seated on the shore, like a deity299, Venice receives the ring from the young, vine-wreathed god who descends300 into the water, while Beauty floats in the air with a starry diadem to crown the marvelous alliance!
"Behold yon distant ship! It seems to bring a message from the gods. Behold the symbolic301 Woman! Her body is capable of bearing the germs of a world!"
A whirlwind of applause broke out, dominated by the clamor of the young men, who hailed him who had kindled before their anxious eyes a hope so glowing, who had professed302 a faith so strong in the occult genius of the race, in the lofty virtue of the ideals handed down by their fathers, in the sovereign dignity of their spirit, the indestructible power of beauty, in all the great things held as naught303 by modern barbarity. The disciples extended their arms toward the master with an effusion of gratitude304, an impulse of love, for he had illumined their souls as with a torch. In each lived again Giorgione's creation: the youth with the beautiful white plumes, who advanced toward the rich mass of spoils; and each fancied as multiplied to infinity his own power to enjoy all things. Their cry expressed so plainly their perturbation of spirit, that the master felt an inward tremor305 and the inrush of a wave of sadness as he thought of the ashes of this sudden fire, and of the cruel wakening of the morrow. Against what sharp obstacles must be broken this terrible desire to live, this violent will of each to shape the wings of Victory to his own destiny, and to bend all the energies of his nature toward the sublime end!
But that night favored youthful delirium306. All the dreams of domination, of pleasure and of glory, that Venice has first cradled, then stifled307, in her marble arms, seemed to rise anew from the foundations of the palace, to enter from the open balconies, palpitating like a people revivified under the arch of that rich and heavy ceiling, which was like a suspended treasure. The strength which, on the ceiling and the walls, seemed to swell3 the muscles of the gods, the kings, and the heroes, the beauty which, in the nudity of the goddesses, the queens, and the courtesans, ran like visible music—all that human strength and beauty, transfigured by centuries of art, harmonized itself in a single figure, which these intoxicated ones fancied they beheld, real and breathing, erected308 before them by the new poet.
They vented309 their intoxicated enthusiasm in that great cry which they sent up to him who had offered to their thirsty lips a cup of his own wine. Henceforth, all would be able to see the inextinguishable flame through its watery veil. Some one among them already imagined himself crumpling310 laurel leaves to perfume his hands; and another resolved to seek at the bottom of a silent canal for the old sword and the ancient diadem.
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1
murmur
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| n.低语，低声的怨言；v.低语，低声而言 | |
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2
swelled
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| 增强( swell的过去式和过去分词 )； 肿胀； （使）凸出； 充满（激情） | |
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swell
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| vi.膨胀，肿胀；增长，增强 | |
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ascended
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| v.上升，攀登( ascend的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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somber
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| adj.昏暗的，阴天的，阴森的，忧郁的 | |
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gliding
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| v. 滑翔 adj. 滑动的 | |
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7
gondola
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| n.威尼斯的平底轻舟；飞船的吊船 | |
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scintillating
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| adj．才气横溢的,闪闪发光的; 闪烁的 | |
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distinguished
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| adj.卓越的，杰出的，著名的 | |
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attentive
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| adj.注意的，专心的；关心(别人)的，殷勤的 | |
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chimera
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| n.神话怪物；梦幻 | |
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chimeric
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| adj.妄想的，荒诞不经的 | |
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13
miraculous
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| adj.像奇迹一样的，不可思议的 | |
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14
rubies
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| 红宝石( ruby的名词复数 )； 红宝石色，深红色 | |
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15
memo
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| n.照会，备忘录；便笺；通知书；规章 | |
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16
semblance
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| n.外貌，外表 | |
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carnations
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| n.麝香石竹，康乃馨( carnation的名词复数 ) | |
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18
craftsmanship
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| n.手艺 | |
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19
sapphires
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| n.蓝宝石，钢玉宝石( sapphire的名词复数 )；蔚蓝色 | |
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20
serene
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| adj. 安详的，宁静的，平静的 | |
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21
turquoises
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| n.绿松石( turquoise的名词复数 )；青绿色 | |
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22
malady
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| n.病，疾病(通常做比喻) | |
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23
devoid
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| adj.全无的，缺乏的 | |
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24
inert
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| adj.无活动能力的，惰性的；迟钝的 | |
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25
fascination
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| n.令人着迷的事物，魅力，迷恋 | |
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26
idols
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| 偶像( idol的名词复数 )； 受崇拜的人或物； 受到热爱和崇拜的人或物； 神像 | |
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27
syllable
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| n.音节；vt.分音节 | |
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28
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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29
instinctive
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| adj.(出于)本能的；直觉的；(出于)天性的 | |
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30
hesitation
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| n.犹豫，踌躇 | |
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31
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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32
celestial
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| adj.天体的；天上的 | |
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33
tragic
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| adj.悲剧的，悲剧性的，悲惨的 | |
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34
apparition
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| n.幽灵，神奇的现象 | |
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35
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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36
oar
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| n.桨，橹，划手；v.划行 | |
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37
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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38
nuptial
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| adj.婚姻的，婚礼的 | |
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39
disseminated
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| 散布，传播( disseminate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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40
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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41
ardor
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| n.热情，狂热 | |
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42
marvel
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| vi.(at)惊叹vt.感到惊异；n.令人惊异的事 | |
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43
vehemence
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| n.热切；激烈；愤怒 | |
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44
feverish
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| adj.发烧的，狂热的，兴奋的 | |
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45
aspires
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| v.渴望，追求( aspire的第三人称单数 ) | |
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46
supreme
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| adj.极度的，最重要的；至高的，最高的 | |
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47
annually
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| adv.一年一次，每年 | |
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48
bosom
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| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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49
sublime
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| adj.崇高的，伟大的；极度的，不顾后果的 | |
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50
intoxicating
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| a. 醉人的,使人兴奋的 | |
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51
voluptuous
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| adj.肉欲的，骄奢淫逸的 | |
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52
orator
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| n.演说者，演讲者，雄辩家 | |
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53
penetrating
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| adj.（声音）响亮的，尖锐的adj.（气味）刺激的adj.（思想）敏锐的，有洞察力的 | |
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54
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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55
kindle
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| v.点燃，着火 | |
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56
improvisation
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| n.即席演奏(或演唱)；即兴创作 | |
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57
rhythmic
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| adj.有节奏的，有韵律的 | |
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58
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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59
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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60
auditors
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| n.审计员，稽核员( auditor的名词复数 )；（大学课程的）旁听生 | |
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61
feats
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| 功绩，伟业，技艺( feat的名词复数 ) | |
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62
swelling
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| n.肿胀 | |
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63
arteries
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| n.动脉( artery的名词复数 )；干线，要道 | |
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64
indefatigable
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| adj.不知疲倦的，不屈不挠的 | |
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65
archer
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| n.射手，弓箭手 | |
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66
laborious
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| adj.吃力的，努力的，不流畅 | |
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67
labor
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| n.劳动，努力，工作，劳工；分娩；vi.劳动，努力，苦干；vt.详细分析；麻烦 | |
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68
laboriously
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| adv.艰苦地；费力地；辛勤地；（文体等）佶屈聱牙地 | |
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69
discourse
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| n.论文，演说；谈话；话语；vi.讲述，著述 | |
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70
contagion
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| n.(通过接触的疾病)传染；蔓延 | |
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71
faltered
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| （嗓音）颤抖( falter的过去式和过去分词 )； 支吾其词； 蹒跚； 摇晃 | |
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72
irresistible
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| adj.非常诱人的，无法拒绝的，无法抗拒的 | |
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73
mortifying
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| adj.抑制的，苦修的v.使受辱( mortify的现在分词 )；伤害（人的感情）；克制；抑制（肉体、情感等） | |
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74
seizure
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| n.没收；占有；抵押 | |
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75
brute
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| n.野兽，兽性 | |
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76
triumphant
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| adj.胜利的，成功的；狂欢的，喜悦的 | |
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77
profusion
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| n.挥霍；丰富 | |
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78
exalt
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| v.赞扬，歌颂，晋升，提升 | |
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79
watery
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| adj.有水的，水汪汪的；湿的，湿润的 | |
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80
plunged
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| v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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81
withdrawn
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| vt.收回；使退出；vi.撤退，退出 | |
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82
ardent
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| adj.热情的，热烈的，强烈的，烈性的 | |
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83
versatile
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| adj.通用的，万用的；多才多艺的，多方面的 | |
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84
muse
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| n.缪斯（希腊神话中的女神），创作灵感 | |
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85
constellations
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| n.星座( constellation的名词复数 )；一群杰出人物；一系列（相关的想法、事物）；一群（相关的人） | |
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86
apotheosis
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| n.神圣之理想；美化；颂扬 | |
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87
awakened
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| v.（使）醒( awaken的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）觉醒；弄醒；（使）意识到 | |
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88
contemplating
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| 深思，细想，仔细考虑( contemplate的现在分词 )； 注视，凝视； 考虑接受（发生某事的可能性）； 深思熟虑，沉思，苦思冥想 | |
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89
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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90
victorious
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| adj.胜利的，得胜的 | |
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91
emanate
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| v.发自，来自，出自 | |
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92
enchantment
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| n.迷惑，妖术，魅力 | |
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93
Augmented
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| adj.增音的 动词augment的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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94
harmonious
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| adj.和睦的，调和的，和谐的，协调的 | |
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95
lyric
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| n.抒情诗，歌词；adj.抒情的 | |
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96
possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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97
contemplate
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| vt.盘算，计议；周密考虑；注视，凝视 | |
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98
virtue
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| n.德行，美德；贞操；优点；功效，效力 | |
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99
meditative
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| adj.沉思的，冥想的 | |
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100
swollen
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| adj.肿大的，水涨的；v.使变大，肿胀 | |
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101
disciples
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| n.信徒( disciple的名词复数 )；门徒；耶稣的信徒；（尤指）耶稣十二门徒之一 | |
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102
intoxication
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| n.wild excitement;drunkenness；poisoning | |
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103
noted
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| adj.著名的，知名的 | |
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104
nucleus
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| n.核，核心，原子核 | |
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105
lore
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| n.传说；学问，经验，知识 | |
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106
agitate
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| vi.(for,against)煽动，鼓动；vt.搅动 | |
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107
exterior
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| adj.外部的，外在的；表面的 | |
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108
investigation
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| n.调查，调查研究 | |
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109
faculty
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| n.才能；学院，系；(学院或系的)全体教学人员 | |
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110
eloquence
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| n.雄辩；口才，修辞 | |
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111
reigned
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| vi.当政，统治（reign的过去式形式） | |
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112
emblems
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| n.象征，标记( emblem的名词复数 ) | |
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113
effulgence
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| n.光辉 | |
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114
inflated
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| adj.（价格）飞涨的；（通货）膨胀的；言过其实的；充了气的v.使充气（于轮胎、气球等）( inflate的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）膨胀；（使）通货膨胀；物价上涨 | |
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115
shrill
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| adj.尖声的；刺耳的；v尖叫 | |
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116
fiery
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| adj.燃烧着的，火红的；暴躁的；激烈的 | |
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117
countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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118
delicacy
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| n.精致，细微，微妙，精良；美味，佳肴 | |
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119
veins
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| n.纹理；矿脉( vein的名词复数 )；静脉；叶脉；纹理 | |
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120
concealing
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| v.隐藏，隐瞒，遮住( conceal的现在分词 ) | |
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121
conceals
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| v.隐藏，隐瞒，遮住( conceal的第三人称单数 ) | |
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122
tawny
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| adj.茶色的，黄褐色的；n.黄褐色 | |
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123
throbbing
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| a. 跳动的,悸动的 | |
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124
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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125
durable
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| adj.持久的，耐久的 | |
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126
attest
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| vt.证明，证实；表明 | |
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127
splendor
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| n.光彩；壮丽，华丽；显赫，辉煌 | |
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128
descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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129
sumptuous
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| adj.豪华的，奢侈的，华丽的 | |
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130
alcove
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| n.凹室 | |
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131
languor
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| n.无精力，倦怠 | |
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132
disquieted
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| v.使不安，使忧虑，使烦恼( disquiet的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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133
vibration
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| n.颤动，振动；摆动 | |
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134
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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135
sonorous
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| adj.响亮的，回响的；adv.圆润低沉地；感人地；n.感人，堂皇 | |
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136
resonance
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| n.洪亮；共鸣；共振 | |
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137
resonances
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| n.共鸣( resonance的名词复数 )；（声音） 洪亮；（文章、乐曲等） 激发联想的力量；（情感）同感 | |
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138
engendered
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| v.产生（某形势或状况），造成，引起( engender的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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139
truce
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| n.休战，(争执，烦恼等的)缓和；v.以停战结束 | |
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140
followers
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| 追随者( follower的名词复数 )； 用户； 契据的附面； 从动件 | |
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141
consecrated
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| adj.神圣的，被视为神圣的v.把…奉为神圣，给…祝圣( consecrate的过去式和过去分词 )；奉献 | |
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142
craftsmen
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| n. 技工 | |
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143
aspirations
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| 强烈的愿望( aspiration的名词复数 )； 志向； 发送气音； 发 h 音 | |
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144
throng
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| n.人群，群众；v.拥挤，群集 | |
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145
fortified
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| adj. 加强的 | |
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146
starry
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| adj.星光照耀的, 闪亮的 | |
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147
intoxicated
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| 喝醉的，极其兴奋的 | |
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148
infinity
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| n.无限，无穷，大量 | |
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149
frenzied
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| a.激怒的；疯狂的 | |
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150
immortal
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| adj.不朽的；永生的，不死的；神的 | |
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151
reverencing
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| v.尊敬，崇敬( reverence的现在分词 )；敬礼 | |
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152
intervals
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| n.[军事]间隔( interval的名词复数 )；间隔时间；[数学]区间；（戏剧、电影或音乐会的）幕间休息 | |
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153
anguish
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| n.(尤指心灵上的)极度痛苦，烦恼 | |
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154
quench
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| vt.熄灭，扑灭；压制 | |
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155
dispense
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| vt.分配，分发；配(药)，发(药)；实施 | |
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156
transcend
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| vt.超出，超越(理性等)的范围 | |
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157
frenzy
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| n.疯狂，狂热，极度的激动 | |
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158
throngs
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| n.人群( throng的名词复数 )v.成群，挤满( throng的第三人称单数 ) | |
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159
intensity
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| n.强烈，剧烈；强度；烈度 | |
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160
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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161
expressive
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| adj.表现的，表达…的，富于表情的 | |
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162
centaurs
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| n.（希腊神话中）半人半马怪物( centaur的名词复数 ) | |
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163
virtues
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| 美德( virtue的名词复数 )； 德行； 优点； 长处 | |
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164
conqueror
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| n.征服者，胜利者 | |
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165
banished
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| v.放逐，驱逐( banish的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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166
quaff
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| v.一饮而尽；痛饮 | |
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167
lucid
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| adj.明白易懂的，清晰的，头脑清楚的 | |
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168
fertilizing
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| v.施肥( fertilize的现在分词 ) | |
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169
poetic
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| adj.富有诗意的，有诗人气质的，善于抒情的 | |
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170
slumber
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| n.睡眠，沉睡状态 | |
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171
virgin
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| n.处女，未婚女子；adj.未经使用的；未经开发的 | |
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172
reigns
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| n.君主的统治( reign的名词复数 )；君主统治时期；任期；当政期 | |
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173
chamber
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| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
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174
amber
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| n.琥珀；琥珀色；adj.琥珀制的 | |
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175
pious
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| adj.虔诚的；道貌岸然的 | |
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176
sleeper
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| n.睡眠者，卧车，卧铺 | |
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177
syllables
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| n.音节( syllable的名词复数 ) | |
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178
inscribed
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| v.写，刻( inscribe的过去式和过去分词 )；内接 | |
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179
aurora
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| n.极光 | |
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180
maiden
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| n.少女，处女；adj.未婚的，纯洁的，无经验的 | |
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181
betrothed
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| n. 已订婚者 动词betroth的过去式和过去分词 | |
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182
destined
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| adj.命中注定的；(for)以…为目的地的 | |
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183
martyr
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| n.烈士，殉难者；vt.杀害，折磨，牺牲 | |
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184
chaste
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| adj.贞洁的；有道德的；善良的；简朴的 | |
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185
ingenuous
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| adj.纯朴的，单纯的；天真的；坦率的 | |
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186
fervent
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| adj.热的，热烈的，热情的 | |
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187
precursors
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| n.先驱( precursor的名词复数 )；先行者；先兆；初期形式 | |
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188
sincerity
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| n.真诚，诚意；真实 | |
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189
evokes
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| 产生，引起，唤起( evoke的第三人称单数 ) | |
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190
admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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191
archers
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| n.弓箭手，射箭运动员( archer的名词复数 ) | |
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192
barbarian
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| n.野蛮人；adj.野蛮(人)的；未开化的 | |
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193
graceful
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| adj.优美的，优雅的；得体的 | |
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194
slayer
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| n. 杀人者，凶手 | |
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195
innocence
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| n.无罪；天真；无害 | |
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196
longing
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| n.（for）渴望 | |
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197
diffused
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| 散布的，普及的，扩散的 | |
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198
harpsichord
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| n.键琴（钢琴前身） | |
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199
awakens
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| v.（使）醒( awaken的第三人称单数 )；（使）觉醒；弄醒；（使）意识到 | |
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200
concerto
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| n.协奏曲 | |
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201
boundless
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| adj.无限的；无边无际的；巨大的 | |
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202
agitation
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| n.搅动；搅拌；鼓动，煽动 | |
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203
monk
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| n.和尚，僧侣，修道士 | |
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204
monks
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| n.修道士，僧侣( monk的名词复数 ) | |
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205
propitious
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| adj.吉利的；顺利的 | |
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206
velvety
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| adj. 像天鹅绒的, 轻软光滑的, 柔软的 | |
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207
pacifying
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| 使（某人）安静( pacify的现在分词 )； 息怒； 抚慰； 在（有战争的地区、国家等）实现和平 | |
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208
adolescence
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| n.青春期，青少年 | |
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209
exalts
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| 赞扬( exalt的第三人称单数 )； 歌颂； 提升； 提拔 | |
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210
prelude
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| n.序言，前兆，序曲 | |
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211
spacious
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| adj.广阔的，宽敞的 | |
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212
encumber
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| v.阻碍行动，妨碍，堆满 | |
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213
illustrated
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| adj. 有插图的，列举的 动词illustrate的过去式和过去分词 | |
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214
covetous
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| adj.贪婪的，贪心的 | |
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215
aromatic
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| adj.芳香的，有香味的 | |
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216
longings
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| 渴望，盼望( longing的名词复数 ) | |
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217
lagoon
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| n.泻湖，咸水湖 | |
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218
ripened
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| v.成熟，使熟( ripen的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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219
incarnate
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| adj.化身的，人体化的，肉色的 | |
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220
stint
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| v.节省，限制，停止；n.舍不得化，节约，限制；连续不断的一段时间从事某件事 | |
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221
initiate
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| vt.开始，创始，发动；启蒙，使入门；引入 | |
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222
distraction
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| n.精神涣散，精神不集中，消遣，娱乐 | |
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223
alluring
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| adj.吸引人的，迷人的 | |
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224
grove
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| n.林子，小树林，园林 | |
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225
plumes
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| 羽毛( plume的名词复数 )； 羽毛饰； 羽毛状物； 升上空中的羽状物 | |
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226
imminent
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| adj.即将发生的，临近的，逼近的 | |
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227
envelops
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| v.包围，笼罩，包住( envelop的第三人称单数 ) | |
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228
parable
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| n.寓言，比喻 | |
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229
perpetuate
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| v.使永存，使永记不忘 | |
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230
gallop
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| v./n.(马或骑马等)飞奔；飞速发展 | |
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231
galloping
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| adj. 飞驰的, 急性的 动词gallop的现在分词形式 | |
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232
glorify
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| vt.颂扬，赞美，使增光，美化 | |
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233
resounded
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| v.（指声音等）回荡于某处( resound的过去式和过去分词 )；产生回响；（指某处）回荡着声音 | |
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234
vessel
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| n.船舶；容器，器皿；管，导管，血管 | |
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235
isolated
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| adj.与世隔绝的 | |
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236
marsh
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| n.沼泽，湿地 | |
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237
suffuses
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| v.（指颜色、水气等）弥漫于，布满( suffuse的第三人称单数 ) | |
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238
descry
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| v.远远看到；发现；责备 | |
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239
diadem
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| n.王冠，冕 | |
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240
accomplished
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| adj.有才艺的；有造诣的；达到了的 | |
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241
morbid
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| adj.病的；致病的；病态的；可怕的 | |
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242
clement
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| adj.仁慈的；温和的 | |
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243
repose
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| v.(使)休息；n.安息 | |
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244
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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245
hissing
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| n. 发嘶嘶声, 蔑视 动词hiss的现在分词形式 | |
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246
prodigious
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| adj.惊人的，奇妙的；异常的；巨大的；庞大的 | |
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247
imprinted
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| v.盖印（imprint的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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248
infinitely
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| adv.无限地，无穷地 | |
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249
voracious
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| adj.狼吞虎咽的，贪婪的 | |
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250
cinders
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| n.煤渣( cinder的名词复数 )；炭渣；煤渣路；煤渣跑道 | |
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251
sublimate
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| v.(使)升华，净化 | |
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252
stimulating
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| adj.有启发性的，能激发人思考的 | |
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253
disapproval
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| n.反对，不赞成 | |
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254
auditorium
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| n.观众席，听众席；会堂，礼堂 | |
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255
cowardice
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| n.胆小，怯懦 | |
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256
lasting
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| adj.永久的，永恒的；vbl.持续，维持 | |
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257
disdain
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| n.鄙视，轻视；v.轻视，鄙视，不屑 | |
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258
compassion
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| n.同情，怜悯 | |
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259
doctrine
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| n.教义；主义；学说 | |
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260
emanating
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| v.从…处传出，传出( emanate的现在分词 )；产生，表现，显示 | |
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261
glorified
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| 美其名的，变荣耀的 | |
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262
retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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phantom
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| n.幻影，虚位，幽灵；adj.错觉的，幻影的，幽灵的 | |
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264
unearth
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| v.发掘，掘出，从洞中赶出 | |
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265
tormented
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| 饱受折磨的 | |
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266
enigmas
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| n.难于理解的问题、人、物、情况等，奥秘( enigma的名词复数 ) | |
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267
mantle
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| n.斗篷，覆罩之物，罩子；v.罩住，覆盖，脸红 | |
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268
sterilized
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| v.消毒( sterilize的过去式和过去分词 )；使无菌；使失去生育能力；使绝育 | |
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devoured
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| 吞没( devour的过去式和过去分词 )； 耗尽； 津津有味地看； 狼吞虎咽地吃光 | |
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270
obstinacy
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| n.顽固；（病痛等）难治 | |
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271
ailment
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| n.疾病，小病 | |
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exultation
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| n.狂喜，得意 | |
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273
formerly
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| adv.从前，以前 | |
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tempted
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| v.怂恿（某人）干不正当的事；冒…的险（tempt的过去分词） | |
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mosaics
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| n.马赛克( mosaic的名词复数 )；镶嵌；镶嵌工艺；镶嵌图案 | |
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276
meditation
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| n.熟虑，（尤指宗教的）默想，沉思，（pl.）冥想录 | |
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277
edifice
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| n.宏伟的建筑物(如宫殿，教室) | |
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278
presentiment
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| n.预感，预觉 | |
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279
attire
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| v.穿衣，装扮[同]array；n.衣着；盛装 | |
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280
dilate
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| vt.使膨胀，使扩大 | |
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281
transfused
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| v.输（血或别的液体）( transfuse的过去式和过去分词 )；渗透；使…被灌输或传达 | |
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282
likeness
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| n.相像，相似（之处） | |
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283
incessantly
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| ad.不停地 | |
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284
determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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285
strands
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| n.（线、绳、金属线、毛发等的）股( strand的名词复数 )；缕；海洋、湖或河的)岸；（观点、计划、故事等的）部份v.使滞留，使搁浅( strand的第三人称单数 ) | |
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286
dormant
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| adj.暂停活动的；休眠的；潜伏的 | |
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287
sonority
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| n.响亮，宏亮 | |
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288
solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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289
climax
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| n.顶点；高潮；v.(使)达到顶点 | |
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290
joyous
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| adj.充满快乐的；令人高兴的 | |
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291
ornament
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| v.装饰，美化；n.装饰，装饰物 | |
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292
sterile
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| adj.不毛的，不孕的，无菌的，枯燥的，贫瘠的 | |
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293
behold
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| v.看，注视，看到 | |
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294
evocation
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| n. 引起，唤起 n. <古> 召唤，招魂 | |
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295
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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296
twilight
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| n.暮光，黄昏；暮年，晚期，衰落时期 | |
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297
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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298
chalice
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| n.圣餐杯；金杯毒酒 | |
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299
deity
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| n.神，神性；被奉若神明的人(或物) | |
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300
descends
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| v.下来( descend的第三人称单数 )；下去；下降；下斜 | |
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301
symbolic
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| adj.象征性的，符号的，象征主义的 | |
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302
professed
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| 公开声称的，伪称的，已立誓信教的 | |
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303
naught
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| n.无，零 [=nought] | |
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304
gratitude
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| adj.感激，感谢 | |
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305
tremor
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| n.震动，颤动，战栗，兴奋，地震 | |
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306
delirium
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| n. 神智昏迷,说胡话;极度兴奋 | |
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307
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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308
ERECTED
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| adj. 直立的，竖立的，笔直的 vt. 使 ... 直立，建立 | |
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309
vented
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| 表达，发泄（感情，尤指愤怒）( vent的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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310
crumpling
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| 压皱，弄皱( crumple的现在分词 )； 变皱 | |
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