Dos grans dezigs ban combatut ma pensa,
Mas lo voler vers un seguir dispensa:
Yo l’vos publich, amar dretament vos.”
THE THIRD NOVEL.—MEREGRETT OF FRANCE, THINKING TO PRESERVE A HOODWINKED GENTLEMAN, ANNOYS A SPIDER; AND BY THE GRACE OF DESTINY THE WEB OF THAT CUNNING INSECT ENTRAPS2 A BUTTERFLY, A WASP3, AND THEN A GOD; WHO SHATTERS IT.
The Story of the Rat-Trap
In the year of grace 1298, a little before Candlemas (thus Nicolas begins), came letters to the first King Edward of England from his kinsman4 and ambassador to France, Earl Edmund of Lancaster. It was perfectly5 apparent, the Earl wrote, that the French King meant to surrender to the Earl’s lord and brother neither the duchy of Guienne nor the Lady Blanch6. This lady, I must tell you, was now affianced to King Edward, whose first wife, Dame7 Ellinor, had died eight years before this time.
The courier found Sire Edward at Ipswich, midway in celebration of his daughter’s marriage to the Count of Holland. The King read the letters through and began to laugh; and presently broke into a rage such as was possible (men whispered) only to the demon-tainted blood of Oriander’s descendants. Next day the keeper of the privy8 purse entered upon the house-hold-books a considerable sum “to make good a large ruby9 and an emerald lost out of his coronet when the King’s Grace was pleased to throw it into the fire”; and upon the same day the King recalled Lancaster. The King then despatched yet another embassy into France to treat about Sire Edward’s marriage. This last embassy was headed by the Earl of Aquitaine: his lieutenant10 was Lord Pevensey, the King’s natural son by Hawise Bulmer.
The Earl got audience of the French King at Mezelais. Walking alone came this Earl of Aquitaine, with a large retinue11, into the hall where the barons12 of France stood according to their rank; in unadorned russet were the big Earl and his attendants, but upon the scarlets13 and purples of the French lords many jewels shone: it was as though through a corridor of gayly painted sunlit glass that the grave Earl came to the dais where sat King Philippe.
The King had risen at close sight of the new envoy15, and had gulped16 once or twice, and without speaking, had hurriedly waved his lords out of ear-shot. The King’s perturbation was very extraordinary.
“Fair cousin,” the Earl now said, without any prelude17, “four years ago I was affianced to your sister, Dame Blanch. You stipulated18 that Gascony be given up to you in guaranty, as a settlement on any children I might have by that incomparable lady. I assented19, and yielded you the province, upon the understanding, sworn to according to the faith of loyal kings, that within forty days you assign to me its seignory as your vassal20. And I have had of you since then neither my province nor my betrothed21 wife, but only excuses, Sire Philippe.”
With eloquence22 the Frenchman touched upon the emergencies to which the public weal so often drives men of high station, and upon his private grief over the necessity—unavoidable, alas23!—of returning a hard answer before the council; and became so voluble that Sire Edward merely laughed in that big-lunged and disconcerting way of his, and afterward24 lodged25 for a week at Mezelais, nominally26 passing by his minor27 title of Earl of Aquitaine, and as his own ambassador.
Negotiations28 became more swift of foot, since a man serves himself with zeal29. In addition, the French lords could make nothing of a politician so thick-witted that he replied to every consideration of expediency30 with a parrot-like reiteration31 of the circumstance that already the bargain was signed and sworn to: in consequence, while daily they fumed32 over his stupidity, daily he gained his point. During this period he was, upon one pretext33 or another, very often in the company of his affianced wife, Dame Blanch.
This lady, I must tell you, was the handsomest of her day; there could nowhere be found a creature more agreeable to every sense; and she compelled the adoring regard of men, it is recorded, not gently but in an imperious fashion. Sire Edward, who, till this, had loved her merely by report, and, in accordance with the high custom of old, through many perusals of her portrait, now appeared besotted. He was an aging man, near sixty, huge and fair, with a crisp beard, and the bright unequal eyes of Manuel of Poictesme. The better-read at Mezelais began to liken this so candidly34 enamored monarch35 and his Princess to Sieur Hercules at the feet of Queen Omphale.
The court hunted and slew36 a stag of ten in the woods of Ermenoueïl, which stand thick about the château; and at the hunt’s end, these two had dined at Rigon the forester’s hut, in company with Dame Meregrett, the French King’s younger sister. She sat a little apart from the betrothed, and stared through the hut’s one window. We know, nowadays, it was not merely the trees she was considering.
Dame Blanch seemed undisposed to mirth. “We have slain37 the stag, beau sire,” she said, “and have made of his death a brave diversion. To-day we have had our sport of death,—and presently the gay years wind past us, as our cavalcade39 came toward the stag, and God’s incurious angel slays40 us, much as we slew the stag. And we shall not understand, and we shall wonder, as the stag did, in helpless wonder. And Death will have his sport of us, as if in atonement.” Her big eyes shone, as when the sun glints upon a sand-bottomed pool. “Ohé, I have known such happiness of late, beau sire, that I am hideously42 afraid to die.”
The King answered, “I too have been very happy of late.”
“But it is profitless to talk about death thus drearily43. Let us flout44 him, instead, with some gay song.” And thereupon she handed Sire Edward a lute45.
The King accepted it. “Death is not reasonably mocked by any person,” Sire Edward said, “since in the end he conquers, and of the lips that gibed46 at him remains47 but a little dust. Rather should I, who already stand beneath a lifted sword, make for my destined48 and inescapable conqueror49 a Sirvente, which is the Song of Service.”
Sang Sire Edward:3
“I sing of Death, that comes unto the king,
And lightly plucks him from the cushioned throne;
And drowns his glory and his warfaring
In unrecorded dim oblivion;
And girds another with the sword thereof;
Styx’ formless shore and nakedly complain
“For Death is merciless: a crack-brained king
He raises in the place of Prester John,
Bids Caesar pause; the wit of Salomon,
The wealth of Nero and the pride thereof,
And battle-prowess—or of Tamburlaine
Darius, Jeshua, or Charlemaigne,—
And get no grace of him nor any love.
“Incuriously he smites the armored king
And tricks his counsellors—”
“True, O God!” murmured the tiny woman, who sat beside the window yonder. With that, Dame Meregrett rose, and passed from the room.
The two lovers started, and laughed, and afterward paid little heed55 to her outgoing. Sire Edward had put aside the lute and sat now regarding the Princess. His big left hand propped58 the bearded chin; his grave countenance59 was flushed, and his intent eyes shone under their shaggy brows, very steadily60, although the left eye was now so nearly shut as to reveal the merest spark.
Irresolutely61, Dame Blanch plucked at her gown; then rearranged a fold of it, and with composure awaited the ensuing action, afraid at bottom, but not at all ill-pleased; and she looked downward.
The King said: “Never before were we two alone, madame. Fate is very gracious to me this morning.”
“Fate,” the lady considered, “has never denied much to the Hammer of the Scots.”
“She has denied me nothing,” he sadly said, “save the one thing that makes this business of living seem a rational proceeding62. Fame and power and wealth fate has accorded me, no doubt, but never the common joys of life. And, look you, my Princess, I am of aging person now. During some thirty years I have ruled England according to my interpretation63 of God’s will as it was anciently made manifest by the holy Evangelists; and during that period I have ruled England not without odd by-ends of commendation: yet behold64, to-day I forget the world-applauded, excellent King Edward, and remember only Edward Plantagenet—hot-blooded and desirous man!—of whom that much-commended king has made a prisoner all these years.”
“It is the duty of exalted65 persons,” Blanch unsteadily said, “to put aside such private inclinations66 as their breasts may harbor—”
He said, “I have done what I might for the happiness of every Englishman within my realm saving only Edward Plantagenet; and now I think his turn to be at hand.” Then the man kept silence; and his hot appraisal67 daunted68 her.
“Lord,” she presently faltered69, “lord, you know that we are already betrothed, and, in sober verity70, Love cannot extend his laws between husband and wife, since the gifts of love are voluntary, and husband and wife are but the slaves of duty—”
“Troubadourish nonsense!” Sire Edward said; “yet it is true that the gifts of love are voluntary. And therefore—Ha, most beautiful, what have you and I to do with all this chaffering over Guienne?” The two stood very close to each other now. Blanch said, “It is a high matter—” Then on a sudden the full-veined girl was aglow71. “It is a trivial matter.” He took her in his arms, since already her cheeks flared72 in scarlet14 anticipation73 of the event.
Thus holding her, he wooed the girl tempestuously74. Here, indeed, was Sieur Hercules enslaved, burned by a fiercer fire than that of Nessus, and the huge bulk of the unconquerable visibly shaken by his adoration75. In a disordered tapestry77 of verbiage78, aflap in winds of passion, she presently beheld79 herself prefigured by Balkis, the Judean’s lure80, and by that Princess of Cyprus who reigned81 in Aristotle’s time, and by Nicolete, the King’s daughter of Carthage,—since the first flush of morning was as a rush-light before her resplendency, the man swore; and in conclusion, he likened her to a modern Countess of Tripolis, for love of whom he, like Rudel, had cleft82 the seas, and losing whom he must inevitably83 die as did Rudel. Sire Edward snapped his fingers now over any consideration of Guienne. He would conquer for her all Muscovy and all Cataia, too, if she desired mere1 acreage. Meanwhile he wanted her, and his hard and savage84 passion beat down opposition85 as if with a bludgeon.
“Heart’s emperor,” the trembling girl replied, “I think that you were cast in some larger mould than we of France. Oh, none of us may dare resist you! and I know that nothing matters, nothing in all the world, save that you love me. Then take me, since you will it,—and take me not as King, since you will otherwise, but as Edward Plantagenet. For listen! by good luck you have this afternoon despatched Rigon for Chevrieul, where to-morrow we were to hunt the great boar. So to-night this hut will be unoccupied.”
The man was silent. He had a gift that way when occasion served.
“Here, then, beau sire! here, then, at nine, you are to meet me with my chaplain. Behold, he marries us, as glibly86 as though we two were peasants. Poor king and princess!” cried Dame Blanch, and in a voice which thrilled him, “shall ye not, then, dare to be but man and woman?”
“Ha!” the King said. “So the chaplain makes a third! Well, the King is pleased to loose his prisoner, that long-imprisoned Edward Plantagenet: and I will do it.”
So he came that night, without any retinue, and habited as a forester, with a horn swung about his neck, into the unlighted hut of Rigon the forester, and he found a woman there, though not the woman whom he had expected.
“I have encountered it before this,” the big man said.
“Presently will come to you not Blanch but Philippe, with many men to back him. And presently they will slay41 you. You have been trapped, beau sire. Ah, for the love of God, go! Go, while there is yet time!” Sire Edward reflected. Undoubtedly88, to light on Edward Longshanks alone in a forest would appear to King Philippe, if properly attended, a tempting89 chance to settle divers38 difficulties, once for all; and Sire Edward knew the conscience of his old opponent to be invulnerable. The act would violate the core of hospitality and knighthood, no doubt, but its outcome would be a very definite gain to France, and for the rest, merely a dead body in a ditch. Not a monarch in Christendom, Sire Edward reflected, but feared and in consequence hated the Hammer of the Scots, and in further consequence would not lift a finger to avenge90 him; and not a being in the universe would rejoice more heartily91 at the success of Philippe’s treachery than would Sire Edward’s son and immediate92 successor, the young Prince Edward of Caernarvon. Taking matters by and large, Philippe had all the powers of common-sense to back him in contriving93 an assassination94.
What Sire Edward said was, “Dame Blanch, then, knew of this?” But Meregrett’s pitiful eyes had already answered him, and he laughed a little.
“In that event, I have to-night enregistered my name among the goodly company of Love’s Lunatics,—as yokefellow with Dan Merlin in his thornbush, and with wise Salomon when he capered95 upon the high places of Chemosh, and with Duke Ares sheepishly agrin in the net of Mulciber. Rogues96 all, madame! fools all! yet always the flesh trammels us, and allures97 the soul to such sensual delights as bar its passage toward the eternal life wherein alone lies the empire and the heritage of the soul. And why does this carnal prison so impede98 the soul? Because Satan once ranked among the sons of God, and the Eternal Father, as I take it, has not yet forgotten the antique relationship,—and hence it is permitted even in our late time that always the flesh rebel against the spirit, and that always these so tiny and so thin-voiced tricksters, these highly tinted99 miracles of iniquity101, so gracious in demeanor102 and so starry-eyed—”
Then he turned and pointed103, no longer the orotund104 zealot but the expectant captain now. “Look, my Princess!” In the pathway from which he had recently emerged stood a man in full armor like a sentinel. “Mort de Dieu, we can but try to get out of this,” Sire Edward said.
“You should have tried without talking so much,” replied Meregrett. She followed him. And presently, in a big splash of moonlight, the armed man’s falchion glittered across their way. “Back,” he bade them, “for by the King’s orders, I can let no man pass.”
“It would be very easy now to strangle this herring,” Sire Edward reflected.
“But it is not easy to strangle a whole school of herring,” the fellow retorted. “Hoh, Messire d’Aquitaine, the bushes of Ermenoueîl are alive with my associates. The hut yonder, in effect, is girdled by them,—and we have our orders to let no man pass.”
“Have you any orders concerning women?” the King said.
The man deliberated. Sire Edward handed him three gold pieces. “There was assuredly no specific mention of petticoats,” the soldier now recollected105, “and in consequence I dare to pass the Princess, against whom certainly nothing can be planned.”
“Why, in that event,” Sire Edward said, “we two had as well bid each other adieu.”
But Meregrett only said, “You bid me go?”
He waved his hand. “Since there is no choice. For that which you have done—however tardily—I thank you. Meantime I return to Rigon’s hut to rearrange my toga as King Caesar did when the assassins fell upon him, and to encounter with due decorum whatever Dame Luck may prefer.”
She said, “You go to your death.”
When he had lighted the inefficient108 lamp which he found there, Sire Edward wheeled upon her in half-humorous vexation. “Presently come your brother and his tattling lords. To be discovered here with me at night, alone, means trouble for you. If Philippe chances to fall into one of his Capetian rages it means death.”
She answered, as though she were thinking about other matters, “Yes.”
Now, for the first time, Sire Edward regarded her with profound consideration. To the finger-tips this so-little lady showed a descendant of the holy Lewis whom he had known and loved in old years. Small and thinnish she was, with soft and profuse109 hair that, for all its blackness, gleamed in the lamplight with stray ripples110 of brilliancy, as you may see sparks shudder112 to extinction113 over burning charcoal114. She had the Valois nose, long and delicate in form, and overhanging a short upper-lip; yet the lips were glorious in tint100, and the whiteness of her skin would have matched the Hyperborean snows tidily enough. As for her eyes, the customary similes115 of the court poets were gigantic onyxes or ebony highly polished and wet with May dew. These eyes were too big for her little face: they made of her a tiny and desirous wraith116 which nervously117 endured each incident of life, like a foreigner uneasily acquiescent118 to the custom of the country.
Sire Edward moved one step toward this tiny lady and paused. “Madame, I do not understand.”
Dame Meregrett looked up into his face unflinchingly. “It means that I love you, sire. I may speak without shame now, for presently you die. Die bravely, sire! Die in such fashion as may hearten me to live.”
The little Princess spoke119 the truth, for always since his coming to Mezelais she had viewed the great conqueror as through an aweful haze120 of forerunning rumor121, twin to that golden vapor122 which enswathes a god and transmutes123 whatever in corporeal124 man would have been a defect into some divine and hitherto unguessed-at excellence125. I must tell you in this place, since no other occasion offers, that even until the end of her life it was so. For to her what in other persons would have seemed flagrant dulness showed somehow, in Sire Edward, as the majestic126 deliberation of one that knows his verdict to be decisive, and therefore appraises127 cautiously; and if sometimes his big, irregular calm eyes betrayed no apprehension128 of the jest at which her lips were laughing, and of which her brain approved, always within the instant her heart convinced her that a god is not lightly moved to mirth.
And now it was a god—O deus certè!—who had taken a woman’s paltry129 face between his hands, half roughly. “And the maid is a Capet!” Sire Edward mused130.
“Blanch has never desired you any ill, beau sire. But she loves the Archduke of Austria. And once you were dead, she might marry him. One cannot blame her,” Meregrett considered, “since he wishes to marry her, and she, of course, wishes to make him happy.”
“And not herself, save in some secondary way!” the big King said. “In part I comprehend, madame. Now I too hanker after this same happiness, and my admiration131 for the cantankerous132 despoiler133 whom I praised this morning is somewhat abated134. There was a Tenson once—Lord, Lord, how long ago! I learn too late that truth may possibly have been upon the losing side—” Thus talking incoherencies, he took up Rigon’s lute.
Sang Sire Edward:
“Incuriously he smites the armored king
And tricks his counsellors—
“yes, the jingle135 ran thus. Now listen, madame—listen, the while that I have my singing out, whatever any little cut-throats may be planning in corners.”
Sang Sire Edward:
“As, later on,
Death will, half-idly, still our pleasuring,
And change for fevered laughter in the sun
Sleep such as Merlin’s,—and excess thereof,—
Whence we, divorceless Death our Viviaine
“For, presently, as quiet as the king
Sleeps now that planned the keeps of Ilion,
We, too, will sleep, whilst overhead the spring
Rules, and young lovers laugh—as we have done,—
And kiss—as we, that take no heed thereof,
Running about the world to waken love.
“We shall have done with Love, and Death be king
Our red lips dusty;—yet our live lips cling
Despite the grave and the vain grief thereof,—
Fond memories may enter, and we twain
May dream a little, and rehearse again
In that unending sleep our present love.
And that were love at my disposal lain—
All mine to take!—and Death had said, ‘Refrain,
Lest I, even I, exact the cost thereof,’
I know that even as the weather-vane
Follows the wind so would I follow Love.”
Sire Edward put aside the lute. “Thus ends the Song of Service,” he said, “which was made not by the King of England but by Edward Plantagenet—hot-blooded and desirous man!—in honor of the one woman who within more years than I care to think of has at all considered Edward Plantagenet.”
“I do not comprehend,” she said. And, indeed, she dared not.
But now he held both tiny hands in his. “At best, your poet is an egotist. I must die presently. Meantime I crave150 largesse151, madame, and a great almsgiving, so that in his unending sleep your poet may rehearse our present love.” And even in Rigon’s dim light he found her kindling152 eyes not niggardly153.
Sire Edward strode to the window and raised big hands toward the spear-points of the aloof154 stars. “Master of us all!” he cried; “O Father of us all! the Hammer of the Scots am I! the Scourge155 of France, the conqueror of Llewellyn and of Leicester, and the flail156 of the accursed race that slew Thine only Son! the King of England am I, who have made of England an imperial nation, and have given to Thy Englishmen new laws! And to-night I crave my hire. Never, O my Father, have I had of any person aught save reverence157 or hatred158! never in my life has any person loved me! And I am old, my Father—I am old, and presently I die. As I have served Thee—as Jacob wrestled159 with Thee at the ford160 of Jabbok—at the place of Peniel—” Against the tremulous blue and silver of the forest the Princess saw how horribly the big man was shaken. “My hire! my hire!” he hoarsely161 said. “Forty long years, my Father! And now I will not let Thee go except Thou hear me, and grant me life and this woman’s love.”
He turned, stark162 and black in the rearward splendor163 of the moon. “As a prince hast thou power with God,” he calmly said, “and thou hast prevailed. For the King of kings was never obdurate164, my dear, to them that have deserved well of Him. So He will attend to my request, and will get us out of this pickle165 somehow.”
Even as he said this, Philippe the Handsome came into the room, and at the heels of the French King were seven lords, armed cap-à-pie.
The French King was an odd man. Subtly smiling, he came forward through the twilight166, with soft, long strides, and he made no outcry at recognition of his sister. “Take the woman away, Victor,” he said, disinterestedly167, to de Montespan. Afterward he sat down beside the table and remained silent for a while, intently regarding Sire Edward and the tiny woman who clung to Sire Edward’s arm; and in the flickering168 gloom of the hut Philippe smiled as an artist may smile who gazes on the perfected work and knows it to be adroit169.
“You prefer to remain, my sister?” he said presently. “Hé bien! it happens that to-night I am in a mood for granting almost any favor. A little later and I will attend to your merits.” The fleet disorder76 of his visage had lapsed170 again into the meditative171 smile which was that of Lucifer watching a toasted soul. “And so it ends,” he said, “and England loses to-night the heir that Manuel the Redeemer provided. Conqueror of Scotland, Scourge of France! O unconquerable king! and will the worms of Ermenoueïl, then, pause to-morrow to consider through what a glorious turmoil172 their dinner came to them?”
“Do you design to murder me?” Sire Edward said.
The French King shrugged. “I design that within this moment my lords shall slay you while I sit here and do not move a finger. Is it not good to be a king, my cousin, and to sit quite still, and to see your bitterest enemy hacked173 and slain,—and all the while to sit quite still, quite unruffled, as a king should always be? Eh, eh! I never lived until to-night!”
“Now, by Heaven,” said Sire Edward, “I am your kinsman and your guest, I am unarmed—”
Philippe bowed his head. “Undoubtedly,” he assented, “the deed is foul174. But I desire Gascony very earnestly, and so long as you live you will never permit me to retain Gascony. Hence it is quite necessary, you conceive, that I murder you. What!” he presently said, “will you not beg for mercy? I had hoped,” the French King added, somewhat wistfully, “that you might be afraid to die, O huge and righteous man! and would entreat175 me to spare you. To spurn176 the weeping conqueror of Llewellyn, say ... But these sins which damn one’s soul are in actual performance very tedious affairs; and I begin to grow aweary of the game. Hé bien! now kill this man for me, messieurs.”
The English King strode forward. “Shallow trickster!” Sire Edward thundered. “Am I not afraid? You grimacing177 baby, do you think to ensnare a lion with such a flimsy rat-trap? Wise persons do not hunt lions with these contraptions: for it is the nature of a rat-trap, fair cousin, to ensnare not the beast which imperiously desires and takes in daylight, but the tinier and the filthier179 beast that covets180 meanly and attacks under the cover of darkness—as do you and your seven skulkers!” The man was rather terrible; not a Frenchman within the hut but had drawn181 back a little.
“Listen!” Sire Edward said, and he came yet farther toward the King of France and shook at him one forefinger182; “when you were in your cradle I was leading armies. When you were yet unbreeched I was lord of half Europe. For thirty years I have driven kings before me as did Fierabras. Am I, then, a person to be hoodwinked by the first big-bosomed huzzy that elects to waggle her fat shoulders and to grant an assignation in a forest expressly designed for stabbings? You baby, is the Hammer of the Scots the man to trust for one half moment a Capet? Ill-mannered infant,” the King said, with bitter laughter, “it is now necessary that I summon my attendants and remove you to a nursery which I have prepared in England.” He set the horn to his lips and blew three blasts. There came many armed warriors183 into the hut, bearing ropes. Here was the entire retinue of the Earl of Aquitaine. Cursing, Sire Philippe sprang upon the English King, and with a dagger184 smote185 at the impassive big man’s heart. The blade broke against the mail armor under the tunic186. “Have I not told you,” Sire Edward wearily said, “that one may never trust a Capet? Now, messieurs, bind187 these carrion and convey them whither I have directed you. Nay188, but, Roger—” He conversed189 apart with his son, the Earl of Pevensey, and what Sire Edward commanded was done. The French King and seven lords of France went from that hut trussed like chickens ready for the oven.
And now Sire Edward turned toward Meregrett and chafed190 his big hands gleefully. “At every tree-bole a tethered horse awaits us; and a ship awaits our party at Fécamp. To-morrow we sleep in England—and, Mort de Dieu! do you not think, madame, that once within my very persuasive191 Tower of London, your brother and I may come to some agreement over Guienne?”
She had shrunk from him. “Then the trap was yours? It was you that lured192 my brother to this infamy193!”
“In effect, I planned it many months ago at Ipswich yonder,” Sire Edward gayly said. “Faith of a gentleman! your brother has cheated me of Guienne, and was I to waste eternity194 in begging him to give me back my province? Oh, no, for I have many spies in France, and have for some two years known your brother and your sister to the bottom. Granted that I came hither incognito195, to forecast your kinfolk’s immediate endeavors was none too difficult; and I wanted Guienne—and, in consequence, the person of your brother. Hah, death of my life! does not the seasoned hunter adapt his snare178 to the qualities of his prey196, and take the elephant through his curiosity, as the snake through his notorious treachery?” Now the King of England blustered197.
But the little Princess wrung198 her hands. “I am this night most hideously shamed. Beau sire, I came hither to aid a brave man infamously199 trapped, and instead I find an alert spider, snug200 in his cunning web, and patiently waiting until the gnats201 of France fly near enough. Eh, the greater fool was I to waste my labor202 on the shrewd and evil thing which has no more need of me than I of it! And now let me go hence, sire, unmolested, for the sake of chivalry203. Could I have come to the brave man I had dreamed of, I would have come cheerily through the murkiest204 lane of hell; as the more artful knave205, as the more judicious206 trickster”—and here she thrust him from her—“I spit upon you. Now let me go hence.”
He took her in his brawny207 arms. “Fit mate for me,” he said. “Little vixen, had you done otherwise I would have devoted208 you to the devil.”
Still grasping her, and victoriously209 lifting Dame Meregrett, so that her feet swung clear of the floor, Sire Edward said, again with that queer touch of fanatic210 gravity: “My dear, you are perfectly right. I was tempted211, I grant you. But it was never reasonable that gentlefolk should cheat at their dicing212. Therefore I whispered Roger Bulmer my final decision; and he is now loosing all my captives in the courtyard of Mezelais, after birching the tails of every one of them as soundly as these infants’ pranks213 to-night have merited. So you perceive that I do not profit by my trick; and that I lose Guienne, after all, in order to come to you with hands—well! not intolerably soiled.”
“Oh, now I love you!” she cried, a-thrill with disappointment to find him so unthriftily high-minded. “Yet you have done wrong, for Guienne is a king’s ransom214.”
He smiled whimsically, and presently one arm swept beneath her knees, so that presently he held her as one dandles a baby; and presently his stiff and graying beard caressed215 her burning cheek. Masterfully he said: “Then let Guienne serve as such and ransom for a king his glad and common manhood. Now it appears expedient216 that I leave France without any unwholesome delay, because these children may resent being spanked217. More lately—hé, already I have in my pocket the Pope’s dispensation permitting me to marry, in spite of our cousinship, the sister of the King of France.”
Very shyly Dame Meregrett lifted her little mouth. She said nothing because talk was not necessary.
In consequence, after a deal of political tergiversation (Nicolas concludes), in the year of grace 1299, on the day of our Lady’s nativity, and in the twenty-seventh year of King Edward’s reign, came to the British realm, and landed at Dover, not Dame Blanch, as would have been in consonance with seasoned expectation, but Dame Meregrett, the other daughter of King Philippe the Bold; and upon the following day proceeded to Canterbury, whither on the next Thursday after came Edward, King of England, into the Church of the Trinity at Canterbury, and therein espoused218 the aforesaid Dame Meregrett.
THE END OF THE THIRD NOVEL
点击收听单词发音
1 mere | |
adj.纯粹的;仅仅,只不过 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
2 entraps | |
v.使陷入圈套,使入陷阱( entrap的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
3 wasp | |
n.黄蜂,蚂蜂 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
4 kinsman | |
n.男亲属 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
5 perfectly | |
adv.完美地,无可非议地,彻底地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
6 blanch | |
v.漂白;使变白;使(植物)不见日光而变白 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
7 dame | |
n.女士 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
8 privy | |
adj.私用的;隐密的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
9 ruby | |
n.红宝石,红宝石色 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
10 lieutenant | |
n.陆军中尉,海军上尉;代理官员,副职官员 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
11 retinue | |
n.侍从;随员 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
12 barons | |
男爵( baron的名词复数 ); 巨头; 大王; 大亨 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
13 scarlets | |
鲜红色,猩红色( scarlet的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
14 scarlet | |
n.深红色,绯红色,红衣;adj.绯红色的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
15 envoy | |
n.使节,使者,代表,公使 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
16 gulped | |
v.狼吞虎咽地吃,吞咽( gulp的过去式和过去分词 );大口地吸(气);哽住 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
17 prelude | |
n.序言,前兆,序曲 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
18 stipulated | |
vt.& vi.规定;约定adj.[法]合同规定的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
19 assented | |
同意,赞成( assent的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
20 vassal | |
n.附庸的;属下;adj.奴仆的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
21 betrothed | |
n. 已订婚者 动词betroth的过去式和过去分词 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
22 eloquence | |
n.雄辩;口才,修辞 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
23 alas | |
int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
24 afterward | |
adv.后来;以后 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
25 lodged | |
v.存放( lodge的过去式和过去分词 );暂住;埋入;(权利、权威等)归属 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
26 nominally | |
在名义上,表面地; 应名儿 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
27 minor | |
adj.较小(少)的,较次要的;n.辅修学科;vi.辅修 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
28 negotiations | |
协商( negotiation的名词复数 ); 谈判; 完成(难事); 通过 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
29 zeal | |
n.热心,热情,热忱 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
30 expediency | |
n.适宜;方便;合算;利己 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
31 reiteration | |
n. 重覆, 反覆, 重说 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
32 fumed | |
愤怒( fume的过去式和过去分词 ); 大怒; 发怒; 冒烟 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
33 pretext | |
n.借口,托词 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
34 candidly | |
adv.坦率地,直率而诚恳地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
35 monarch | |
n.帝王,君主,最高统治者 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
36 slew | |
v.(使)旋转;n.大量,许多 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
37 slain | |
杀死,宰杀,杀戮( slay的过去分词 ); (slay的过去分词) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
38 divers | |
adj.不同的;种种的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
39 cavalcade | |
n.车队等的行列 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
40 slays | |
杀死,宰杀,杀戮( slay的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
41 slay | |
v.杀死,宰杀,杀戮 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
42 hideously | |
adv.可怕地,非常讨厌地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
43 drearily | |
沉寂地,厌倦地,可怕地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
44 flout | |
v./n.嘲弄,愚弄,轻视 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
45 lute | |
n.琵琶,鲁特琴 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
46 gibed | |
v.嘲笑,嘲弄( gibe的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
47 remains | |
n.剩余物,残留物;遗体,遗迹 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
48 destined | |
adj.命中注定的;(for)以…为目的地的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
49 conqueror | |
n.征服者,胜利者 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
50 reign | |
n.统治时期,统治,支配,盛行;v.占优势 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
51 ousts | |
驱逐( oust的第三人称单数 ); 革职; 罢黜; 剥夺 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
52 lamenting | |
adj.悲伤的,悲哀的v.(为…)哀悼,痛哭,悲伤( lament的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
53 smites | |
v.猛打,重击,打击( smite的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
54 wheedle | |
v.劝诱,哄骗 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
55 heed | |
v.注意,留意;n.注意,留心 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
56 bribe | |
n.贿赂;v.向…行贿,买通 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
57 surfeit | |
v.使饮食过度;n.(食物)过量,过度 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
58 propped | |
支撑,支持,维持( prop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
59 countenance | |
n.脸色,面容;面部表情;vt.支持,赞同 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
60 steadily | |
adv.稳定地;不变地;持续地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
61 irresolutely | |
adv.优柔寡断地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
62 proceeding | |
n.行动,进行,(pl.)会议录,学报 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
63 interpretation | |
n.解释,说明,描述;艺术处理 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
64 behold | |
v.看,注视,看到 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
65 exalted | |
adj.(地位等)高的,崇高的;尊贵的,高尚的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
66 inclinations | |
倾向( inclination的名词复数 ); 倾斜; 爱好; 斜坡 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
67 appraisal | |
n.对…作出的评价;评价,鉴定,评估 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
68 daunted | |
使(某人)气馁,威吓( daunt的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
69 faltered | |
(嗓音)颤抖( falter的过去式和过去分词 ); 支吾其词; 蹒跚; 摇晃 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
70 verity | |
n.真实性 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
71 aglow | |
adj.发亮的;发红的;adv.发亮地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
72 Flared | |
adj. 端部张开的, 爆发的, 加宽的, 漏斗式的 动词flare的过去式和过去分词 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
73 anticipation | |
n.预期,预料,期望 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
74 tempestuously | |
adv.剧烈地,暴风雨似地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
75 adoration | |
n.爱慕,崇拜 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
76 disorder | |
n.紊乱,混乱;骚动,骚乱;疾病,失调 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
77 tapestry | |
n.挂毯,丰富多采的画面 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
78 verbiage | |
n.冗词;冗长 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
79 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: |
|
|
80 lure | |
n.吸引人的东西,诱惑物;vt.引诱,吸引 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
81 reigned | |
vi.当政,统治(reign的过去式形式) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
82 cleft | |
n.裂缝;adj.裂开的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
83 inevitably | |
adv.不可避免地;必然发生地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
84 savage | |
adj.野蛮的;凶恶的,残暴的;n.未开化的人 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
85 opposition | |
n.反对,敌对 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
86 glibly | |
adv.流利地,流畅地;满口 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
87 wailed | |
v.哭叫,哀号( wail的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
88 undoubtedly | |
adv.确实地,无疑地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
89 tempting | |
a.诱人的, 吸引人的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
90 avenge | |
v.为...复仇,为...报仇 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
91 heartily | |
adv.衷心地,诚恳地,十分,很 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
92 immediate | |
adj.立即的;直接的,最接近的;紧靠的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
93 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: |
|
|
94 assassination | |
n.暗杀;暗杀事件 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
95 capered | |
v.跳跃,雀跃( caper的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
96 rogues | |
n.流氓( rogue的名词复数 );无赖;调皮捣蛋的人;离群的野兽 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
97 allures | |
诱引,吸引( allure的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
98 impede | |
v.妨碍,阻碍,阻止 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
99 tinted | |
adj. 带色彩的 动词tint的过去式和过去分词 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
100 tint | |
n.淡色,浅色;染发剂;vt.着以淡淡的颜色 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
101 iniquity | |
n.邪恶;不公正 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
102 demeanor | |
n.行为;风度 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
103 pointed | |
adj.尖的,直截了当的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
104 orotund | |
adj.宏亮的,宏壮的;浮夸的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
105 recollected | |
adj.冷静的;镇定的;被回忆起的;沉思默想的v.记起,想起( recollect的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
106 shrugged | |
vt.耸肩(shrug的过去式与过去分词形式) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
107 faltering | |
犹豫的,支吾的,蹒跚的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
108 inefficient | |
adj.效率低的,无效的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
109 profuse | |
adj.很多的,大量的,极其丰富的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
110 ripples | |
逐渐扩散的感觉( ripple的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
111 ripple | |
n.涟波,涟漪,波纹,粗钢梳;vt.使...起涟漪,使起波纹; vi.呈波浪状,起伏前进 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
112 shudder | |
v.战粟,震动,剧烈地摇晃;n.战粟,抖动 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
113 extinction | |
n.熄灭,消亡,消灭,灭绝,绝种 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
114 charcoal | |
n.炭,木炭,生物炭 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
115 similes | |
(使用like或as等词语的)明喻( simile的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
116 wraith | |
n.幽灵;骨瘦如柴的人 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
117 nervously | |
adv.神情激动地,不安地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
118 acquiescent | |
adj.默许的,默认的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
119 spoke | |
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 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
120 haze | |
n.霾,烟雾;懵懂,迷糊;vi.(over)变模糊 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
121 rumor | |
n.谣言,谣传,传说 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
122 vapor | |
n.蒸汽,雾气 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
123 transmutes | |
v.使变形,使变质,把…变成…( transmute的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
124 corporeal | |
adj.肉体的,身体的;物质的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
125 excellence | |
n.优秀,杰出,(pl.)优点,美德 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
126 majestic | |
adj.雄伟的,壮丽的,庄严的,威严的,崇高的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
127 appraises | |
v.估价( appraise的第三人称单数 );估计;估量;评价 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
128 apprehension | |
n.理解,领悟;逮捕,拘捕;忧虑 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
129 paltry | |
adj.无价值的,微不足道的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
130 mused | |
v.沉思,冥想( muse的过去式和过去分词 );沉思自语说(某事) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
131 admiration | |
n.钦佩,赞美,羡慕 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
132 cantankerous | |
adj.爱争吵的,脾气不好的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
133 despoiler | |
参考例句: |
|
|
134 abated | |
减少( abate的过去式和过去分词 ); 减去; 降价; 撤消(诉讼) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
135 jingle | |
n.叮当声,韵律简单的诗句;v.使叮当作响,叮当响,押韵 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
136 regain | |
vt.重新获得,收复,恢复 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
137 rapture | |
n.狂喜;全神贯注;着迷;v.使狂喜 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
138 ecstasy | |
n.狂喜,心醉神怡,入迷 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
139 slumber | |
n.睡眠,沉睡状态 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
140 disdain | |
n.鄙视,轻视;v.轻视,鄙视,不屑 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
141 heralding | |
v.预示( herald的现在分词 );宣布(好或重要) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
142 wane | |
n.衰微,亏缺,变弱;v.变小,亏缺,呈下弦 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
143 carrion | |
n.腐肉 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
144 severance | |
n.离职金;切断 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
145 domain | |
n.(活动等)领域,范围;领地,势力范围 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
146 forth | |
adv.向前;向外,往外 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
147 unison | |
n.步调一致,行动一致 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
148 hindrance | |
n.妨碍,障碍 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
149 bent | |
n.爱好,癖好;adj.弯的;决心的,一心的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
150 crave | |
vt.渴望得到,迫切需要,恳求,请求 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
151 largesse | |
n.慷慨援助,施舍 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
152 kindling | |
n. 点火, 可燃物 动词kindle的现在分词形式 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
153 niggardly | |
adj.吝啬的,很少的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
154 aloof | |
adj.远离的;冷淡的,漠不关心的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
155 scourge | |
n.灾难,祸害;v.蹂躏 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
156 flail | |
v.用连枷打;击打;n.连枷(脱粒用的工具) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
157 reverence | |
n.敬畏,尊敬,尊严;Reverence:对某些基督教神职人员的尊称;v.尊敬,敬畏,崇敬 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
158 hatred | |
n.憎恶,憎恨,仇恨 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
159 wrestled | |
v.(与某人)搏斗( wrestle的过去式和过去分词 );扭成一团;扭打;(与…)摔跤 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
160 Ford | |
n.浅滩,水浅可涉处;v.涉水,涉过 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
161 hoarsely | |
adv.嘶哑地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
162 stark | |
adj.荒凉的;严酷的;完全的;adv.完全地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
163 splendor | |
n.光彩;壮丽,华丽;显赫,辉煌 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
164 obdurate | |
adj.固执的,顽固的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
165 pickle | |
n.腌汁,泡菜;v.腌,泡 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
166 twilight | |
n.暮光,黄昏;暮年,晚期,衰落时期 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
167 disinterestedly | |
参考例句: |
|
|
168 flickering | |
adj.闪烁的,摇曳的,一闪一闪的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
169 adroit | |
adj.熟练的,灵巧的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
170 lapsed | |
adj.流失的,堕落的v.退步( lapse的过去式和过去分词 );陷入;倒退;丧失 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
171 meditative | |
adj.沉思的,冥想的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
172 turmoil | |
n.骚乱,混乱,动乱 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
173 hacked | |
生气 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
174 foul | |
adj.污秽的;邪恶的;v.弄脏;妨害;犯规;n.犯规 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
175 entreat | |
v.恳求,恳请 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
176 spurn | |
v.拒绝,摈弃;n.轻视的拒绝;踢开 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
177 grimacing | |
v.扮鬼相,做鬼脸( grimace的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
178 snare | |
n.陷阱,诱惑,圈套;(去除息肉或者肿瘤的)勒除器;响弦,小军鼓;vt.以陷阱捕获,诱惑 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
179 filthier | |
filthy(肮脏的,污秽的)的比较级形式 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
180 covets | |
v.贪求,觊觎( covet的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
181 drawn | |
v.拖,拉,拔出;adj.憔悴的,紧张的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
182 forefinger | |
n.食指 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
183 warriors | |
武士,勇士,战士( warrior的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
184 dagger | |
n.匕首,短剑,剑号 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
185 smote | |
v.猛打,重击,打击( smite的过去式 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
186 tunic | |
n.束腰外衣 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
187 bind | |
vt.捆,包扎;装订;约束;使凝固;vi.变硬 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
188 nay | |
adv.不;n.反对票,投反对票者 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
189 conversed | |
v.交谈,谈话( converse的过去式 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
190 chafed | |
v.擦热(尤指皮肤)( chafe的过去式 );擦痛;发怒;惹怒 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
191 persuasive | |
adj.有说服力的,能说得使人相信的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
192 lured | |
吸引,引诱(lure的过去式与过去分词形式) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
193 infamy | |
n.声名狼藉,出丑,恶行 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
194 eternity | |
n.不朽,来世;永恒,无穷 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
195 incognito | |
adv.匿名地;n.隐姓埋名;adj.化装的,用假名的,隐匿姓名身份的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
196 prey | |
n.被掠食者,牺牲者,掠食;v.捕食,掠夺,折磨 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
197 blustered | |
v.外强中干的威吓( bluster的过去式和过去分词 );咆哮;(风)呼啸;狂吹 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
198 wrung | |
绞( wring的过去式和过去分词 ); 握紧(尤指别人的手); 把(湿衣服)拧干; 绞掉(水) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
199 infamously | |
不名誉地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
200 snug | |
adj.温暖舒适的,合身的,安全的;v.使整洁干净,舒适地依靠,紧贴;n.(英)酒吧里的私房 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
201 gnats | |
n.叮人小虫( gnat的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
202 labor | |
n.劳动,努力,工作,劳工;分娩;vi.劳动,努力,苦干;vt.详细分析;麻烦 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
203 chivalry | |
n.骑士气概,侠义;(男人)对女人彬彬有礼,献殷勤 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
204 murkiest | |
adj.阴暗的( murky的最高级 );昏暗的;(指水)脏的;混浊的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
205 knave | |
n.流氓;(纸牌中的)杰克 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
206 judicious | |
adj.明智的,明断的,能作出明智决定的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
207 brawny | |
adj.强壮的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
208 devoted | |
adj.忠诚的,忠实的,热心的,献身于...的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
209 victoriously | |
adv.获胜地,胜利地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
210 fanatic | |
n.狂热者,入迷者;adj.狂热入迷的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
211 tempted | |
v.怂恿(某人)干不正当的事;冒…的险(tempt的过去分词) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
212 dicing | |
n.掷骰子,(皮革上的)菱形装饰v.将…切成小方块,切成丁( dice的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
213 pranks | |
n.玩笑,恶作剧( prank的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
214 ransom | |
n.赎金,赎身;v.赎回,解救 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
215 caressed | |
爱抚或抚摸…( caress的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
216 expedient | |
adj.有用的,有利的;n.紧急的办法,权宜之计 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
217 spanked | |
v.用手掌打( spank的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
218 espoused | |
v.(决定)支持,拥护(目标、主张等)( espouse的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
欢迎访问英文小说网 |