Mrs. Jameson has lately given a very vivid and charming account of this fine old place. I am not going to tread in her steps, but to describe the impression it made upon myself at different times, in my own way, and with reference to my own object.
My first visit to it was when I was a youth of about seventeen. I had heard nothing at all of it, and had no idea that it was an object of any particular interest. I was at Mansfield, and casually1 heard that the present Duke of Devonshire, its proprietor2, was come of age, and that there, as at his other houses, his birth-day was to be kept by his tenants3 and the neighbouring peasantry in the old English style. The house lies about five miles to the north of Mansfield, not far from the Chesterfield road. I set off, and learning that there was a footway, I passed through one or two quiet, old-fashioned villages, through solitary4 fields and deep woody valleys, a road that for its beauty and out-of-the-world air delighted me exceedingly. I at length found myself at the entrance of a large old park. The tall towers of the hall had been my landmarks6 all the way, and now that unique building, standing7 on the broad, level plain, surrounded at a distance by the old oaks of the park, burst upon me with an unexpected effect. It was unlike anything I had seen; but there were solemn halls in the regions of poetry and romance, that my imagination immediately classed it amongst. I advanced toward it with indescribable feelings of wonder and delight. I could have wished that it had been standing in its[258] ordinary solitude8, for that seemed to my mind its true and natural state; but it was not so: around it swarmed9 crowds of rustic10 revellers, and I determined11 to take things as I found them; to consider this very scene as a feature of the olden time; and to see how it went, about the baronial dwellings12 in the feudal13 ages, on occasions like that.
It was not long before I came upon a man lying on his face under the trees,—he was dead drunk. Soon I passed another, and another, and another: a little farther, and they lay about like the slain14 on the outskirts15 of a battle. When I came into the open plain before the hall, the sound of a band of music which had probably been some time silent through the musicians themselves dining, reached me; I heard drunken songs and wild outcries mingling16 with it. All about the lawn were scattered17 clustered throngs18. I saw barrels standing; spigots running; men catching19 their hats full, and running here and there, while others were snatching at their prize, and often spilling the ale on the ground. Sometimes there were two or three trying to drink out of a hat at once; others were stooping down to drink at the spigots; there were fighting, scuffling, clamour, and confusion. All round the hall people swarmed like bees. At the doors and gates dense20 masses were trying to force their way in; while stout21 fellows were thumping22 away at their sculls with huge staves, with an energy that one would have thought enough to kill them by dozens, but which seemed to make little impression.
While this was going on, being a slim youth, I slipped beneath the uplifted arm of a stout yeoman, and made a safe ingress. I stood astonished at the place into which I had entered. Those ample and lofty rooms, in which stood huge pieces of roast-beef on huge pewter dishes, and great leathern jacks23, tankards, and modern jugs24 of ale, at which scores of people were eating and drinking as voraciously25 as if they had been fasting all the one-and-twenty years to do due honour to this great birth-day; while the servants were running to and fro, filling up foaming26 measures, which were emptied again with wonderful rapidity. Those vast kitchens too, with their mighty27 fireplaces, and tongs28, and pokers29, and spits fit for the kitchen of Polyphemus; with broiling30 cooks and hurrying menials, called on by twenty voices at once. I made my way to the front court, where, under canvass31 awnings32, long tables[259] were set out for the tenantry and yeomanry of the neighbourhood, admitted by ticket. O what a company of jolly, rosy33, full-grown, well-fed fellows, was there, making no sham34 onset35 on the plum-pudding and roast-beef of Old England! The band kept up a triumphant36 din5; but when it ceased for a moment, what a rattle37 of knives and forks, and a clatter38 of ale-cups, what a clamour of tongues and hearty39 laughter became perceptible! And all round the court, the walls were covered with swarms40 of men, that climbed up no trivial height to get a view of the jovial41 banquet, and many a cry was raised to throw up thither42 some of those good things. And sure enough, here went a piece of beef, and here a lump of pudding; and a score of hands caught at them; and a hundred voices joined in the roar of laughter as they were caught, or fell back again into the court, or flew over the wall amongst the scrambling43 crowd.
But suddenly there was in the midst of all this noise and jollity, a cry of horror; and it was soon seen that one of the pointed44 stones that stand at intervals45 on the top of the high wall all round the court, had disappeared. It had given way with a man who clung to it, had fallen upon him, and killed him on the spot. There was a momentary46 pause in the festivity; a great running together to the spot of the catastrophe47; but the body was soon conveyed away to an outbuilding, and the tide of riot rolled on. It was doomed48, however, to receive a second check; for another man, in the wild excitement of the time, and of the strong ale, sprang at one bound over a wall that stood on the edge of a precipice49, and fell a shattered corpse50 into the hollow below. These were awful events, and cast over some of the revellers a gloom that would not disperse51; but far the greater part were now too highly charged with birth-day ale to be capable of reflection. All around was Bacchanalian52 chaos53. Singing, shouting, attempts at dancing, reeling, and tumbling. Bodies lay thickly strewn through court and hall, and far around on the lawn. Some gay sparks were, with mock respect, carried with much struggling and laughter, and laid in sheds and stables and under trees, and one especial dandy was deposited in a heap of soot54. For myself, perhaps the only sober person there, I hastened away, resolving to revisit that fairy mansion55 in the time of its restored quiet.
[260]
And in what a far different aspect did it present itself when I next saw it; and with what a far different company did I witness it! It was on one of the most glorious days of a splendid summer that we passed under the shadow of its oaks, as happy and attached a company as ever met on earth. Ah! they are all dispersed56 now! Out of a dozen glad hearts, not more than three are living now. But let me forget that. We were a joyful57 band of tried friends then. All, except myself and a young Yorkshire damsel, light as a sylph, and lovely and frolic as a fairy, were in carriages; we were on horseback; and scarcely had we entered the park, when, as if the sight of its fine wide level had filled her with an irresistible58 desire to scour59 across it, the madcap gave her horse the rein60, and darted61 away. Under the boughs62 of the oaks she stooped, and flew along with arrowy swiftness. Every moment I expected to see her caught by one of them, and dashed to the ground; but she was too practised a horsewoman for that: she cleared the trees; the deer bounded away as she came galloping63 towards them, and turned and gazed at her from a distance; the rooks and daws, and lapwings feeding on the turf, soared up and raised wild cries; but she sped on, and there was nothing for me to do but to follow. I spurred forwards, but it was only to see her rush, at the same reckless speed, down a deep descent, where one trip of her horse—and nothing was more likely—and she would have flown far over his head to certain death. Yet down she went, and down I followed; but ere I reached the bottom, she was urging her horse up as steep an ascent64, on whose summit, as I approached it, I found her seated on her panting steed, laughing at her exploit and my face of wonder.
When we reached the Hall, there were all our friends in the court, and the kind-hearted old gentleman, the head of the party, standing at the great hall door, laughing heartily65 at the attempts of each of the youngsters in succession to walk blindfold66 up a single row of the flags that lead from the court-gates to the house. Every one began full of confidence; but the laughter and cries of the rest soon proclaimed the failure of the enterprise. When it came to the turn of our merry madcap, up she walked with a bold step, and course as strait as if guided by a clue, from gate to door. All at once exclaimed that she could see, and busy[261] hands were soon at work to fasten the handkerchief so artfully round her head, that she could not possibly get a glimpse of daylight. Again she was led to the gate, and again she marched up to the door as quickly and directly as before. The wonder was great; but still it was asserted that she must see;—it was that fine Grecian nose of hers that permitted a glance down beside it, enough for the guidance of the spirited damsel; so handkerchief was bound on handkerchief, aslant67 and athwart, to exclude every possibility of seeing; and again she was set at the gate; and again went gaily68 and confidently to the door without one erring69 footstep. There was a general murmur70 of applause and wonder. I see that light and buoyant figure still advancing up the line of flags; I see those golden locks dancing in the sunshine as she went; I see that lovely countenance71, those blue and laughing eyes, full of a merry triumph, as her friends unbound her beautiful head. I see the same glad creature, all vivacity72 and happiness, now sitting on the warm turf, now bounding up long flights of stairs; now standing, to the terror of her companions, on the jutting73 edge of a ruinous tower;—and can it be true, that that fairy creature has long been dead! the light of those lovely eyes extinguished! those lovely locks soiled with the damp churchyard earth! Alas74! we know too well how readily such things come to pass. But no black presage75 came before us then. All around was summer sunshine; we explored every nook in that old ivied ruin, the older house of Hardwick, in which the Queen of Scots was confined; paced the celebrated76 banqueting-room, adorned77 with the figures of Gog and Magog, with an angel flying between them with a drawn78 sword. We rambled79 over the leaden roof, and in the happy folly80 of youth, marked each other’s foot upon it, with duly inscribed81 names and date. We went all through the present house; through its tapestried82 rooms, along its gallery, into its ancient chapel83, and up to its armoury, a tower on the roof; and finally adjourned84 to the neat little inn at Glapwell, to a merry tea, and thence home.
My next visit to Hardwick was in the autumn of 1834. My companions now were, my true associate for the last seventeen years, and one little boy and girl, who, as we advanced up the park, rambled on before us in eager delight. Twenty years had passed since that[262] youthful party I have just mentioned was there;—twenty years to me of many sober experiences; of naturally extended knowledge; of observation of our old English houses in various parts of the kingdom: but as I once more approached Hardwick, I felt that it had lost none of its effect,—nay, that that effect was actually increased: it was more unworldly, more unlike any thing else, or any thing belonging to common life; more poetical85, more crowned and overshadowed with beautiful and solemn associations, than it was when I first beheld86 it in my youth. The distance you have to advance, from the moment you emerge from amongst the trees of the park into a full view of the Hall, until you reach it, tends greatly to heighten its effect. There it stands, bold and alone, on a wide unobstructed plain.
No trees crowd upon it, or break, for a moment, the view; it lifts itself up in all its solemn and unique grandeur87 to the blue heavens, like a fairy palace, in the days of old romance. It is a thing expressly of by-gone times—darkened indeed by age, but not injured. Unlike modern mansions88, you see no bustle89 of human life about it; no gardens and shrubberies; but wings of grey, and not very high walls, extending to a considerable distance over the plain, from each end of the house, inclosing what gardens there are, and paddocks. You see no offices appended,—it seems a place freed from all mortal necessities,—inhabited by beings above them. All offices, in fact, that are not included within the regular walls of the house, are removed to a considerable distance with the farm-yard. As you draw near, its grave aspect strikes you more strongly; you become more sensible of its loftiness, of the vast size of its windows, and of that singular parapet which surmounts90 it. It is an oblong building, with three square towers at each end, both projecting from, and rising much higher than, the body of the building. The parapet surmounting91 these towers is a singular piece of open-work of sweeping92 lines of stone, displaying the initials of the builder, E. S.—Elizabeth Shrewsbury,—surmounted with the coronet of an earl. On all sides of the house these letters and crown strike your eye, and the whole parapet appears so unlike what is usually wrought93 in stone, that you cannot help thinking that its singular builder, old Bess of Hardwick, must have cut out the pattern in paper with her scissars. It is difficult to say, whether this remarkable94 woman[263] had a greater genius for architecture or matrimony. She was the daughter of John Hardwick of Hardwick, and sole heiress of this estate. She married four times, always contriving95 to get the power over her husband’s estates, by direct demise96, or by intermarrying the children of their former marriages with those of former husbands, so that she brought into the family immense estates, and laid the foundation of four dukedoms. Her genius for architecture is sufficiently97 conspicuous98 in this unique pile, and in the engraving99 of Worksop Manor100 in Thoroton’s Nottinghamshire, as erected101 by her, though since destroyed by fire,—a building full of the same peculiar102 character. It is said that it having been foretold103 her by some astrologer, that the moment she ceased to build would be the moment of her death, she was perpetually engaged in building. At length, as she was raising a set of almshouses at Derby, a severe frost set in. All measures were resorted to necessary to enable the men to continue their work: their mortar104 was dissolved with hot water, and when that failed, with hot ale; but the frost triumphed—the work ceased, and Bess of Hardwick expired! This noble building I trust will long continue to perpetuate105 her memory, lifting aloft on its parapet her conspicuous E. S.
All the lower walls surrounding the courts and paddocks, are finished with similar open-work of bands of curved and knotted stone. A colonnade106 runs along each side of the house between the projecting towers, and the entrance-front is enclosed by that court of which I have already spoken; having its walls mounted, at intervals, with quaint107 pyramidal stones. On this side of the house a fine valley opens itself, filled with noble woods, a large water, and displaying beyond a hilly and pleasant country.
At about a hundred yards from the Hall stand the remains108 of the old one. The progress of dilapidation109 upon this building, since my last visit, was striking. Then you could ascend110 to the leaden roof; but now means were adopted to prevent that, on account of its unsafe state; in fact, the stairs themselves have partly fallen in; many of the floors of the rooms have fallen through; the ceiling of the celebrated banqueting-room itself has given way by places, and in others is propped111 up by stout pieces of timber. The glory of Gog and Magog will soon be annihilated112, or they will be left on the walls, exposed to the astonished gaze of the passer-by, as are some[264] stucco alto-relievoes of stags under forest trees on the chamber113 walls, with ivy114 drooping115 over them from the top of the walls above, and tall trees that have sprung on the hearths116 of destroyed rooms below, waving before them. This is the outward aspect of those old halls where Mary Stuart, and the almost equally unfortunate Arabella Stuart, once dwelt. Within, the present hall is as perfect a specimen117 of an Elizabethan house, as can be wished. “The state apartments are lofty and spacious118, with numerous transom windows admitting a profusion119 of light. The hall is hung with very curious tapestry120, which appears to be as ancient as the fifteenth century. On one part of it, is a representation of boar-hunting, and on another of otter-hunting. In the chapel, which is on the first floor, is a very rich and curious altar-cloth, thirty feet long, hung round the rails of the altar, with figures of saints under canopies121 wrought in needlework. The great dining-room is on the same floor, over the chimney-piece of which are the arms of the Countess of Shrewsbury, with the date of 1597. The most remarkable apartments in this interesting edifice122 are the state room, or room of audience, as it is called, and the gallery. The former is sixty-four feet nine inches, by thirty-three feet, and twenty-six feet four inches high. At one end of it is a canopy123 of state, and in another part a bed, the hangings of which are very ancient. This room is hung with tapestry, in which is represented the story of Ulysses; over this are figures, rudely executed in plaster, in bas-relief, amongst which is a representation of Diana and her nymphs. The gallery is about 170 feet long and 26 wide, extending the whole length of the eastern side of the house; and hung with tapestry, on a part of which is the date of 1478.”[11] The house has not only been kept in repair, but exactly in the state in which its builder left it, as to furniture and fitting up, with a very few exceptions, and these in the most accordant taste. For instance, the Duke of Devonshire has brought hither his family pictures from Chatsworth, so as to make this fine gallery the family picture gallery. Not another painting has been suffered to enter. He has also now added a most appropriate feature to the entrance hall, a statue of the Queen of Scots, of the size of life, by Westmacott. It stands on a pedestal of the same stone, bearing an armorial escutcheon.
[11] Lyson’s Magna Britannia.
[265]
Mrs. Jameson expresses strongly the effect of the huge escutcheons, the carved arms thrust out from the wall, intended to hold lights, and the great antlers, as she first entered this hall by night; but what would have been the effect of seeing Mary Stuart herself standing full opposite, as if to receive her to this place of her former captivity124.[12] To her, and to every imaginative person, the effect must have been powerful, and solemnly impressive. Gray the poet, instead of thinking that the Queen of Scots had but just walked down into the park for half an hour, would have seen her visibly here. I have seen the portraits of Queen Mary, both here and in Holyrood, but none of them give me a thousandth part of the idea of what she must have been, compared with this statue.
With these two exceptions, both of which tend to strengthen the legitimate126 influence of the place, all besides is exactly as it was. You ascend the broad, easy oak stairs; you see the chapel by their side, with all its brocaded seats and cushions; you advance along vast passages, where stand huge chests filled with coals, and having ample crypts in the walls for chips and firewood. Here are none of the modern contrivances to conceal127 these things; but they stand there before you, with an air of rude abundance, according well with the ancient mixture of baronial state and simplicity128. You go on and on, through rooms all hung with rich old tapestry, glowing with pictorial129 scenes from scriptural or mythological130 history; all furnished with antique cabinets, massy tables, high chairs covered with crimson131 velvet132 or ornamental133 satin. You behold134 the very furniture used by Queen Mary; the very bed she worked with her own fingers. But perhaps that spacious gallery, extending along the whole front of the house, gives the imagination a more feudal feeling than all. Its length, nearly two hundred feet; its great height; its stupendous windows, composing nearly the whole front, rattling135 and wailing136 as the wind sweeps along them. What a magnificent sough, and even thunder of sound, must fill that wild old place in stormy weather. There you see arranged, high and low, portraits of most of the characters belonging to the family or history of the place, of all degrees of execution. It is not my intention to give any details, either of those or of the furniture; that having[266] been done by Mrs. Jameson with the accuracy and feeling that particularly distinguish her. I aim only at imparting the general effect. It is enough therefore to say that there are “many beautiful women and brave men:” portraits of bluff137 Harry138 VIII.; those of the rival queens, Mary and Elizabeth; her keeper, the Earl of Shrewsbury, and his masculine wife, Elizabeth of Hardwick; and the philosophers, Boyle and Hobbs. One interesting particular of Mrs. Jameson’s statement, however, we could not verify:—the tradition of the nocturnal meeting of the rival queens in the gallery. We never heard of it before; nor could we now find, by the most particular inquiries139, even among the domestics, any knowledge of such a tradition. It was as new to them as to us; and we therefore set it down as a pleasant poetical tradition of the fair author’s own planting.
The Duke was come hither from Chatsworth, to spend a week, and he seemed to have come in the spirit befitting the place; for there was scarcely more than its usual establishment; scarcely less than its usual quietness perceptible. The Duke himself we had met on the road, and in his absence were shewn through the apartments which he uses on these occasions; and it had a curious effect amid all this staid and sombre antiquity140, to find, on a plain oak table in the library, the newspapers of the day; the Athen?um, Court Journal, the Spectator, and Edinburgh Review; the works of Dr. Channing; and Hood’s Tylney Hall, just then published. What an antithesis141! what a mighty contrast between the spirit of the past and the present!—the life and stir of the politics and the passing literature of the day, in a place belonging in history, character, and all its appointments, to an age so different, and so long gone by, with all its people and concerns.
Nothing, perhaps, could mark more vividly142 the vast changes in the manners and circumstances of different ages in England; the wonderful advance in luxury and refinement143 of the modern ones, than by passing from Hardwick to the old Hall of Haddon, built in 1427, when the feudal system was in its strength; when the manor-house was but one remove from the castle; to visit this with its rude halls, its massive tables, its floors made from the planks144 of one mighty oak, its ancient arras and quaint stucco-work; and then pass over to Chatsworth, only a few miles distant, where to the[267] past all the splendour of the present has been added; modern architecture, and all its contrivances for domestic convenience, comfort, and elegance145; pictures, statuary, books, magnificent furniture, glowing carpets; every thing that the art, wealth, and ingenuity146 of this great nation can bring together into one princely mansion. But as my limits will not admit of this, I shall content myself with a survey of a more domestic kind, yet connected with the poetical history of our own day—Annesley and Newstead.
点击收听单词发音
1 casually | |
adv.漠不关心地,无动于衷地,不负责任地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
2 proprietor | |
n.所有人;业主;经营者 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
3 tenants | |
n.房客( tenant的名词复数 );佃户;占用者;占有者 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
4 solitary | |
adj.孤独的,独立的,荒凉的;n.隐士 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
5 din | |
n.喧闹声,嘈杂声 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
6 landmarks | |
n.陆标( landmark的名词复数 );目标;(标志重要阶段的)里程碑 ~ (in sth);有历史意义的建筑物(或遗址) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
7 standing | |
n.持续,地位;adj.永久的,不动的,直立的,不流动的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
8 solitude | |
n. 孤独; 独居,荒僻之地,幽静的地方 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
9 swarmed | |
密集( swarm的过去式和过去分词 ); 云集; 成群地移动; 蜜蜂或其他飞行昆虫成群地飞来飞去 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
10 rustic | |
adj.乡村的,有乡村特色的;n.乡下人,乡巴佬 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
11 determined | |
adj.坚定的;有决心的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
12 dwellings | |
n.住处,处所( dwelling的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
13 feudal | |
adj.封建的,封地的,领地的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
14 slain | |
杀死,宰杀,杀戮( slay的过去分词 ); (slay的过去分词) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
15 outskirts | |
n.郊外,郊区 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
16 mingling | |
adj.混合的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
17 scattered | |
adj.分散的,稀疏的;散步的;疏疏落落的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
18 throngs | |
n.人群( throng的名词复数 )v.成群,挤满( throng的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
19 catching | |
adj.易传染的,有魅力的,迷人的,接住 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
20 dense | |
a.密集的,稠密的,浓密的;密度大的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
22 thumping | |
adj.重大的,巨大的;重击的;尺码大的;极好的adv.极端地;非常地v.重击(thump的现在分词);狠打;怦怦地跳;全力支持 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
23 jacks | |
n.抓子游戏;千斤顶( jack的名词复数 );(电)插孔;[电子学]插座;放弃 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
24 jugs | |
(有柄及小口的)水壶( jug的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
25 voraciously | |
adv.贪婪地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
26 foaming | |
adj.布满泡沫的;发泡 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
27 mighty | |
adj.强有力的;巨大的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
28 tongs | |
n.钳;夹子 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
29 pokers | |
n.拨火铁棒( poker的名词复数 );纸牌;扑克;(通常指人)(坐或站得)直挺挺的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
30 broiling | |
adj.酷热的,炽热的,似烧的v.(用火)烤(焙、炙等)( broil的现在分词 );使卷入争吵;使混乱;被烤(或炙) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
31 canvass | |
v.招徕顾客,兜售;游说;详细检查,讨论 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
32 awnings | |
篷帐布 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
33 rosy | |
adj.美好的,乐观的,玫瑰色的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
34 sham | |
n./adj.假冒(的),虚伪(的) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
35 onset | |
n.进攻,袭击,开始,突然开始 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
36 triumphant | |
adj.胜利的,成功的;狂欢的,喜悦的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
37 rattle | |
v.飞奔,碰响;激怒;n.碰撞声;拨浪鼓 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
38 clatter | |
v./n.(使)发出连续而清脆的撞击声 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
39 hearty | |
adj.热情友好的;衷心的;尽情的,纵情的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
40 swarms | |
蜂群,一大群( swarm的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
41 jovial | |
adj.快乐的,好交际的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
42 thither | |
adv.向那里;adj.在那边的,对岸的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
43 scrambling | |
v.快速爬行( scramble的现在分词 );攀登;争夺;(军事飞机)紧急起飞 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
44 pointed | |
adj.尖的,直截了当的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
45 intervals | |
n.[军事]间隔( interval的名词复数 );间隔时间;[数学]区间;(戏剧、电影或音乐会的)幕间休息 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
46 momentary | |
adj.片刻的,瞬息的;短暂的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
47 catastrophe | |
n.大灾难,大祸 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
48 doomed | |
命定的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
49 precipice | |
n.悬崖,危急的处境 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
50 corpse | |
n.尸体,死尸 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
51 disperse | |
vi.使分散;使消失;vt.分散;驱散 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
52 bacchanalian | |
adj.闹酒狂饮的;n.发酒疯的人 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
53 chaos | |
n.混乱,无秩序 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
54 soot | |
n.煤烟,烟尘;vt.熏以煤烟 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
55 mansion | |
n.大厦,大楼;宅第 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
56 dispersed | |
adj. 被驱散的, 被分散的, 散布的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
57 joyful | |
adj.欢乐的,令人欢欣的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
58 irresistible | |
adj.非常诱人的,无法拒绝的,无法抗拒的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
59 scour | |
v.搜索;擦,洗,腹泻,冲刷 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
60 rein | |
n.疆绳,统治,支配;vt.以僵绳控制,统治 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
61 darted | |
v.投掷,投射( dart的过去式和过去分词 );向前冲,飞奔 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
62 boughs | |
大树枝( bough的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
63 galloping | |
adj. 飞驰的, 急性的 动词gallop的现在分词形式 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
64 ascent | |
n.(声望或地位)提高;上升,升高;登高 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
65 heartily | |
adv.衷心地,诚恳地,十分,很 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
66 blindfold | |
vt.蒙住…的眼睛;adj.盲目的;adv.盲目地;n.蒙眼的绷带[布等]; 障眼物,蒙蔽人的事物 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
67 aslant | |
adv.倾斜地;adj.斜的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
68 gaily | |
adv.欢乐地,高兴地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
69 erring | |
做错事的,错误的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
70 murmur | |
n.低语,低声的怨言;v.低语,低声而言 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
71 countenance | |
n.脸色,面容;面部表情;vt.支持,赞同 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
72 vivacity | |
n.快活,活泼,精神充沛 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
73 jutting | |
v.(使)突出( jut的现在分词 );伸出;(从…)突出;高出 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
74 alas | |
int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
75 presage | |
n.预感,不祥感;v.预示 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
76 celebrated | |
adj.有名的,声誉卓著的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
77 adorned | |
[计]被修饰的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
78 drawn | |
v.拖,拉,拔出;adj.憔悴的,紧张的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
79 rambled | |
(无目的地)漫游( ramble的过去式和过去分词 ); (喻)漫谈; 扯淡; 长篇大论 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
80 folly | |
n.愚笨,愚蠢,蠢事,蠢行,傻话 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
81 inscribed | |
v.写,刻( inscribe的过去式和过去分词 );内接 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
82 tapestried | |
adj.饰挂绣帷的,织在绣帷上的v.用挂毯(或绣帷)装饰( tapestry的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
83 chapel | |
n.小教堂,殡仪馆 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
84 adjourned | |
(使)休会, (使)休庭( adjourn的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
85 poetical | |
adj.似诗人的;诗一般的;韵文的;富有诗意的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
86 beheld | |
v.看,注视( behold的过去式和过去分词 );瞧;看呀;(叙述中用于引出某人意外的出现)哎哟 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
87 grandeur | |
n.伟大,崇高,宏伟,庄严,豪华 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
88 mansions | |
n.宅第,公馆,大厦( mansion的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
89 bustle | |
v.喧扰地忙乱,匆忙,奔忙;n.忙碌;喧闹 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
90 surmounts | |
战胜( surmount的第三人称单数 ); 克服(困难); 居于…之上; 在…顶上 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
91 surmounting | |
战胜( surmount的现在分词 ); 克服(困难); 居于…之上; 在…顶上 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
92 sweeping | |
adj.范围广大的,一扫无遗的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
93 wrought | |
v.引起;以…原料制作;运转;adj.制造的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
94 remarkable | |
adj.显著的,异常的,非凡的,值得注意的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
95 contriving | |
(不顾困难地)促成某事( contrive的现在分词 ); 巧妙地策划,精巧地制造(如机器); 设法做到 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
96 demise | |
n.死亡;v.让渡,遗赠,转让 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
97 sufficiently | |
adv.足够地,充分地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
98 conspicuous | |
adj.明眼的,惹人注目的;炫耀的,摆阔气的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
99 engraving | |
n.版画;雕刻(作品);雕刻艺术;镌版术v.在(硬物)上雕刻(字,画等)( engrave的现在分词 );将某事物深深印在(记忆或头脑中) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
100 manor | |
n.庄园,领地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
101 ERECTED | |
adj. 直立的,竖立的,笔直的 vt. 使 ... 直立,建立 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
102 peculiar | |
adj.古怪的,异常的;特殊的,特有的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
103 foretold | |
v.预言,预示( foretell的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
104 mortar | |
n.灰浆,灰泥;迫击炮;v.把…用灰浆涂接合 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
105 perpetuate | |
v.使永存,使永记不忘 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
106 colonnade | |
n.柱廊 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
107 quaint | |
adj.古雅的,离奇有趣的,奇怪的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
108 remains | |
n.剩余物,残留物;遗体,遗迹 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
109 dilapidation | |
n.倒塌;毁坏 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
110 ascend | |
vi.渐渐上升,升高;vt.攀登,登上 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
111 propped | |
支撑,支持,维持( prop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
112 annihilated | |
v.(彻底)消灭( annihilate的过去式和过去分词 );使无效;废止;彻底击溃 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
113 chamber | |
n.房间,寝室;会议厅;议院;会所 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
114 ivy | |
n.常青藤,常春藤 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
115 drooping | |
adj. 下垂的,无力的 动词droop的现在分词 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
116 hearths | |
壁炉前的地板,炉床,壁炉边( hearth的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
117 specimen | |
n.样本,标本 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
118 spacious | |
adj.广阔的,宽敞的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
119 profusion | |
n.挥霍;丰富 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
120 tapestry | |
n.挂毯,丰富多采的画面 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
121 canopies | |
(宝座或床等上面的)华盖( canopy的名词复数 ); (飞行器上的)座舱罩; 任何悬于上空的覆盖物; 森林中天棚似的树荫 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
122 edifice | |
n.宏伟的建筑物(如宫殿,教室) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
123 canopy | |
n.天篷,遮篷 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
124 captivity | |
n.囚禁;被俘;束缚 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
125 literally | |
adv.照字面意义,逐字地;确实 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
126 legitimate | |
adj.合法的,合理的,合乎逻辑的;v.使合法 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
127 conceal | |
v.隐藏,隐瞒,隐蔽 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
128 simplicity | |
n.简单,简易;朴素;直率,单纯 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
129 pictorial | |
adj.绘画的;图片的;n.画报 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
130 mythological | |
adj.神话的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
131 crimson | |
n./adj.深(绯)红色(的);vi.脸变绯红色 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
132 velvet | |
n.丝绒,天鹅绒;adj.丝绒制的,柔软的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
133 ornamental | |
adj.装饰的;作装饰用的;n.装饰品;观赏植物 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
134 behold | |
v.看,注视,看到 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
135 rattling | |
adj. 格格作响的, 活泼的, 很好的 adv. 极其, 很, 非常 动词rattle的现在分词 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
136 wailing | |
v.哭叫,哀号( wail的现在分词 );沱 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
137 bluff | |
v.虚张声势,用假象骗人;n.虚张声势,欺骗 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
138 harry | |
vt.掠夺,蹂躏,使苦恼 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
139 inquiries | |
n.调查( inquiry的名词复数 );疑问;探究;打听 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
140 antiquity | |
n.古老;高龄;古物,古迹 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
141 antithesis | |
n.对立;相对 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
142 vividly | |
adv.清楚地,鲜明地,生动地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
143 refinement | |
n.文雅;高尚;精美;精制;精炼 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
144 planks | |
(厚)木板( plank的名词复数 ); 政纲条目,政策要点 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
145 elegance | |
n.优雅;优美,雅致;精致,巧妙 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
146 ingenuity | |
n.别出心裁;善于发明创造 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
欢迎访问英文小说网 |