“J’ay en mon cueur joyeusement
Escript, afin que ne l’oublie,
Ce refrain qu’ayme chierement,
C’estes vous de qui suis amye.”
THE NINTH NOVEL.—JEHANE OF NAVARRE, AFTER A WITHSTANDING OF ALL OTHER ASSAULTS, IS IN A LONG DUEL1, WHEREIN TIME AND COMMON-SENSE ARE FLOUTED2, AND KINGDOMS ARE SHAKEN, DETHRONED AND RECOMPENSED BY AN ENDURING LUNACY.
The Story of the Navarrese
In the year of grace 1386, upon the feast of Saint Bartholomew (thus Nicolas begins), came to the Spanish coast Messire Peyre de Lesnerac, in a war-ship sumptuously3 furnished and manned by many persons of dignity and wealth, in order suitably to escort the Princess Jehane into Brittany, where she was to marry the Duke of that province. There were now rejoicings throughout Navarre, in which the Princess took but a nominal4 part and young Antoine Riczi none at all.
This Antoine Riczi came to Jehane that August twilight5 in the hedged garden. “King’s daughter!” he sadly greeted her. “Duchess of Brittany! Countess of Rougemont! Lady of Nantes and of Guerrand! of Rais and of Toufon and Guerche!”
She answered, “No, my dearest,—I am that Jehane, whose only title is the Constant Lover.” And in the green twilight, lit as yet by one low-hanging star alone, their lips and desperate young bodies clung, now, it might be, for the last time.
Presently the girl spoke6. Her soft mouth was lax and tremulous, and her gray eyes were more brilliant than the star yonder. The boy’s arms were about her, so that neither could be quite unhappy, yet.
“Friend,” said Jehane, “I have no choice. I must wed7 with this de Montfort. I think I shall die presently. I have prayed God that I may die before they bring me to the dotard’s bed.”
Young Riczi held her now in an embrace more brutal9. “Mine! mine!” he snarled10 toward the obscuring heavens.
“Yet it may be I must live. Friend, the man is very old. Is it wicked to think of that? For I cannot but think of his great age.”
Then Riczi answered: “My desires—may God forgive me!—have clutched like starving persons at that sorry sustenance12. Friend! ah, fair, sweet friend! the man is human and must die, but love, we read, is immortal13. I am wishful to kill myself, Jehane. But, oh, Jehane! dare you to bid me live?”
“Friend, as you love me, I entreat14 you to live. Friend, I crave15 of the Eternal Father that if I falter16 in my love for you I may be denied even the one bleak17 night of ease which Judas knows.” The girl did not weep; dry-eyed she winged a perfectly18 sincere prayer toward incorruptible saints. Riczi was to remember the fact, and through long years of severance19.
For even now, as Riczi went away from Jehane, a shrill20 singing-girl was rehearsing, yonder behind the yew-hedge, the song which she was to sing at Jehane’s bridal feast.
Sang this joculatrix:
“When the Morning broke before us
Came the wayward Three astraying,
(Obloquies of Aether saying),—
Hoidens that, at pegtop playing,
Flung their Top where yet it whirls
Through the coil of clouds unstaying,
And upon the next day de Lesnerac bore young Jehane from Pampeluna and presently to Saillé, where old Jehan the Brave took her to wife. She lived as a queen, but she was a woman of infrequent laughter.
She had Duke Jehan’s adoration24, and his barons’ obeisancy, and his villagers applauded her passage with stentorian26 shouts. She passed interminable days amid bright curious arrasses and trod listlessly over pavements strewn with flowers. She had fiery-hearted jewels, and shimmering27 purple cloths, and much furniture adroitly28 carven, and many tapestries29 of Samarcand and Baldach upon which were embroidered30, by brown fingers that time had turned long ago to Asian dust, innumerable asps and deer and phoenixes31 and dragons and all the motley inhabitants of air and of the thicket32; but her memories, too, she had, and for a dreary33 while she got no comfort because of them. Then ambition quickened.
Young Antoine Riczi likewise nursed his wound as best he might; but at the end of the second year after Jehane’s wedding his uncle, the Vicomte de Montbrison—a gaunt man, with preoccupied34 and troubled eyes—had summoned Antoine into Lyonnois and, after appropriate salutation, had informed the lad that, as the Vicomte’s heir, he was to marry the Demoiselle Gerberge de Nérac upon the ensuing Michaelmas.
“That I may not do,” said Riczi; and since a chronicler that would tempt35 fortune should never stretch the fabric36 of his wares37 too thin (unlike Sir Hengist), I merely tell you these two dwelt together at Montbrison for a decade: and the Vicomte swore at his nephew and predicted this or that disastrous38 destination as often as Antoine declined to marry the latest of his uncle’s candidates,—in whom the Vicomte was of an astonishing fertility.
In the year of grace 1401 came the belated news that Duke Jehan had closed his final day. “You will be leaving me!” the Vicomte growled39; “now, in my decrepitude40, you will be leaving me! It is abominable41, and I shall in all likelihood disinherit you this very night.”
“Yet it is necessary,” Riczi answered; and, filled with no unhallowed joy, he rode for Vannes, in Brittany, where the Duchess-Regent held her court. Dame42 Jehane had within that fortnight put aside her mourning. She sat beneath a green canopy43, gold-fringed and powdered with many golden stars, when Riczi came again to her, and the rising saps of spring were exercising their august and formidable influence. She sat alone, by prearrangement, to one end of the high-ceiled and radiant apartment; midway in the hall her lords and divers44 ladies were gathered about a saltatrice and a jongleur, who were diverting the courtiers, to the mincing45 accompaniment of a lute46; but Jehane sat apart from these, frail47, and splendid with many jewels, and a little sad.
And Antoine Riczi found no power of speech within him at the first. Silent he stood before her, still as an effigy48, while meltingly the jongleur sang.
“Jehane!” said Antoine Riczi, in a while, “have you, then, forgotten, O Jehane?”
The resplendent woman had not moved at all. It was as though she were some tinted49 and lavishly50 adorned51 statue of barbaric heathenry, and he her postulant; and her large eyes appeared to judge an immeasurable path, beyond him. Now her lips fluttered somewhat. “I am the Duchess of Brittany,” she said, in the phantom52 of a voice. “I am the Countess of Rougemont. The Lady of Nantes and of Guerrand! of Rais and of Toufon and Guerche!... Jehane is dead.”
The man had drawn53 one audible breath. “You are that Jehane, whose only title is the Constant Lover!”
“Friend, the world smirches us,” she said half-pleadingly, “I have tasted too deep of wealth and power. I am drunk with a deadly wine, and ever I thirst—I thirst—”
“Jehane, do you remember that May morning in Pampeluna when first I kissed you, and about us sang many birds? Then as now you wore a gown of green, Jehane.”
“Friend, I have swayed kingdoms since.”
“Jehane, do you remember that August twilight in Pampeluna when last I kissed you? Then as now you wore a gown of green, Jehane.”
“But I wore no such chain as this about my neck,” the woman answered, and lifted a huge golden collar garnished54 with emeralds and sapphires55 and with many pearls. “Friend, the chain is heavy, yet I lack the will to cast it off. I lack the will, Antoine.” And now with a sudden shout of mirth her courtiers applauded the evolutions of the saltatrice.
“King’s daughter!” said Riczi then; “O perilous56 merchandise! a god came to me and a sword had pierced his breast. He touched the gold hilt of it and said, ‘Take back your weapon.’ I answered, ‘I do not know you.’ ‘I am Youth’ he said; ‘take back your weapon.’”
“It is true,” she responded, “it is lamentably57 true that after to-night we are as different persons, you and I.”
He said: “Jehane, do you not love me any longer? Remember old years and do not break your oath with me, Jehane, since God abhors58 nothing so much as unfaith. For your own sake, Jehane,—ah, no, not for your sake nor for mine, but for the sake of that blithe59 Jehane, whom, so you tell me, time has slain61!”
Once or twice she blinked, as if dazzled by a light of intolerable splendor62, but otherwise she stayed rigid63. “You have dared, messire, to confront me with the golden-hearted, clean-eyed Navarrese that once was I! and I requite64.” The austere65 woman rose. “Messire, you swore to me, long since, eternal service. I claim my right in domnei. Yonder—gray-bearded, the man in black and silver—is the Earl of Worcester, the King of England’s ambassador, in common with whom the wealthy dowager of Brittany has signed a certain contract. Go you, then, with Worcester into England, as my proxy66, and in that island, as my proxy, become the wife of the King of England. Messire, your audience is done.”
Riczi said this: “Can you hurt me any more, Jehane?—no, even in hell they cannot hurt me now. Yet I, at least, keep faith, and in your face I fling faith like a glove—old-fashioned, it may be, but clean,—and I will go, Jehane.”
Her heart raged. “Poor, glorious fool!” she thought; “had you but the wit even now to use me brutally67, even now to drag me from this daïs—!” Instead he went away from her smilingly, treading through the hall with many affable salutations, while the jongleur sang.
Sang the jongleur:
“There is a land those hereabout
Ignore ... Its gates are barred
By Titan twins, named Fear and Doubt.
These mercifully guard
That land we seek—the land so fair!—
And all the fields thereof,
And ouzels chant of love,—
Whence clouded well-springs rise,
Lift glittering cold eyes.
And surely you know the name of the land!
Ah, never a guide or ever a chart
May safely lead you about this land,—
The Land of the Human Heart!”
And the following morning, being duly empowered, Antoine Riczi sailed for England in company with the Earl of Worcester; and upon Saint Richard’s day the next ensuing was, at Eltham, as proxy of Jehane, married in his own person to the bloat King Henry, the fourth of that name to reign73. This king was that same squinting74 Harry75 of Derby (called also Henry of Lancaster and Bolingbroke) who stole his cousin’s crown, and about whom I have told you in the preceding story. First Sire Henry placed the ring on Riczi’s finger, and then spoke Antoine Riczi, very loud and clear:
“I, Antoine Riczi,—in the name of my worshipful lady, Dame Jehane, the daughter of Messire Charles until lately King of Navarre, the Duchess of Brittany and the Countess of Rougemont,—do take you, Sire Henry of Lancaster, King of England and in title of France, and Lord of Ireland, to be my husband; and thereto I, Antoine Riczi, in the spirit of my said lady”—the speaker paused here to regard the gross hulk of masculinity before him, and then smiled very sadly—“in precisely76 the spirit of my said lady, I plight77 you my troth.”
Afterward78 the King made him presents of some rich garments of scarlet79 trimmed with costly80 furs, and of four silk belts studded with silver and gold, and with valuable clasps, of which the owner might well be proud, and Riczi returned to Lyonnois. “Depardieux!” his uncle said; “so you return alone!”
“I return as did Prince Troilus,” said Riczi—“to boast to you of liberal entertainment in the tent of Diomede.”
“You are certainly an inveterate81 fool,” the Vicomte considered after a prolonged appraisal82 of his face, “since there is always a deal of other pink-and-white flesh as yet unmortgaged—Boy with my brother’s eyes!” the Vicomte said, in another voice; “I have heard of the task put upon you: and I would that I were God to punish as is fitting! But you are welcome home, my lad.”
So these two abode83 together at Montbrison for a long time, and in the purlieus of that place hunted and hawked84, and made sonnets85 once in a while, and read aloud from old romances some five days out of the seven. The verses of Riczi were in the year of grace 1410 made public, not without acclamation; and thereafter the stripling Comte de Charolais, future heir to all Burgundy and a zealous86 patron of rhyme, was much at Montbrison, and there conceived for Antoine Riczi such admiration87 as was possible to a very young man only.
In the year of grace 1412 the Vicomte, being then bedridden, died without any disease and of no malady88 save the inherencies of his age. “I entreat of you, my nephew,” he said at last, “that always you use as touchstone the brave deed you did at Eltham. It is necessary for a gentleman to serve his lady according to her commandments, but you performed the most absurd and the most cruel task which any woman ever imposed upon her lover and servitor in domnei. I laugh at you, and I envy you.” Thus he died, about Martinmas.
Now was Antoine Riczi a powerful baron25, but he got no comfort of his lordship, because that old incendiary, the King of Darkness, daily added fuel to a smouldering sorrow until grief quickened into vaulting89 flames of wrath90 and of disgust.
“What now avail my riches?” said the Vicomte. “How much wealthier was I when I was loved, and was myself an eager lover! I relish91 no other pleasures than those of love. I am Love’s sot, drunk with a deadly wine, poor fool, and ever I thirst. All my chattels92 and my acres appear to me to be bright vapors93, and the more my dominion94 and my power increase, the more rancorously does my heart sustain its bitterness over having been robbed of that fair merchandise which is the King of England’s. To hate her is scant95 comfort and to despise her none at all, since it follows that I who am unable to forget the wanton am even more to be despised than she. I will go into England and execute what mischief96 I may against her.”
The new Vicomte de Montbrison set forth97 for Paris, first to do homage98 for his fief, and secondly99 to be accredited100 for some plausible101 mission into England. But in Paris he got disquieting102 news. Jehane’s husband was dead, and her stepson Henry, the fifth monarch103 of that name to reign in Britain, had invaded France to support preposterous104 claims which the man advanced to the crown of that latter kingdom; and as the earth is altered by the advent105 of winter, so was the appearance of France transformed by King Henry’s coming, and everywhere the nobles were stirred up to arms, the castles were closed, the huddled106 cities were fortified107, and on every side arose entrenchments.
Thus through this sudden turn was the new Vicomte, the dreamer and the recluse108, caught up by the career of events, as a straw is borne away by a torrent109, when the French lords marched with their vassals110 to Harfleur, where they were soundly drubbed by the King of England; as afterward at Agincourt.
But in the year of grace 1417 there was a breathing space for discredited111 France, and presently the Vicomte de Montbrison was sent into England, as ambassador. He got in London a fruitless audience of King Henry, whose demands were such as rendered a renewal112 of the war inevitable113; and afterward got, in the month of April, about the day of Palm Sunday, at the Queen’s dower-palace of Havering-Bower, an interview with Queen Jehane.5
A curled pert page took the Vicomte to where she sat alone, by prearrangement, in a chamber114 with painted walls, profusely115 lighted by the sun, and made pretence116 to weave a tapestry117. When the page had gone she rose and cast aside the shuttle, and then with a glad and wordless cry stumbled toward the Vicomte. “Madame and Queen—!” he coldly said.
His judgment118 found in her a quite ordinary, frightened woman, aging now, but still very handsome in these black and shimmering gold robes; but all his other faculties119 found her desirable: and with a contained hatred120 he had perceived, as if by the terse121 illumination of a thunderbolt, that he could never love any woman save the woman whom he most despised.
She said: “I had forgotten. I had remembered only you, Antoine, and Navarre, and the clean-eyed Navarrese—” Now for a little, Jehane paced the gleaming and sun-drenched apartment as a bright leopardess might tread her cage. Then she wheeled. “Friend, I think that God Himself has deigned122 to avenge123 you. All misery124 my reign has been. First Hotspur, then prim125 Worcester harried126 us. Came Glyndwyr afterward to prick127 us with his devils’ horns. Followed the dreary years that linked me to the rotting corpse128 which God’s leprosy devoured129 while the poor furtive130 thing yet moved, and endured its share in the punishment of Manuel’s poisonous blood. All misery, Antoine! And now I live beneath a sword.”
“You have earned no more,” he said. “You have earned no more, O Jehane! whose only title is the Constant Lover!” He spat131 it out.
She came uncertainly toward him, as though he had been some not implacable knave132 with a bludgeon. “For the King hates me,” she plaintively133 said, “and I live beneath a sword. The big, fierce-eyed boy has hated me from the first, for all his lip-courtesy. And now he lacks the money to pay his troops, and I am the wealthiest person within his realm. I am a woman and alone in a foreign land. So I must wait, and wait, and wait, Antoine, till he devises some trumped-up accusation134. Friend, I live as did Saint Damoclus, beneath a sword. Antoine!” she wailed—for now the pride of Queen Jehane was shattered utterly—“I am held as a prisoner for all that my chains are of gold.”
“Yet it was not until of late,” he observed, “that you disliked the metal which is the substance of all crowns.”
And now the woman lifted toward him her massive golden necklace, garnished with emeralds and sapphires and with many pearls, and in the sunlight the gems135 were tawdry things. “Friend, the chain is heavy, and I lack the power to cast it off. The Navarrese we know of wore no such perilous fetters136. Ah, you should have mastered me at Vannes. You could have done so, very easily. But you only talked—oh, Mary pity us! you only talked!—and I could find only a servant where I had sore need to find a master. Let all women pity me!”
But now came many armed soldiers into the apartment. With spirit Queen Jehane turned to meet them, and you saw that she was of royal blood, for now the pride of many emperors blazed and informed her body as light occupies a lantern. “At last you come for me, messieurs?”
“Whereas,” the leader of these soldiers read from a parchment—“whereas the King’s stepmother, Queen Jehane, is accused by certain persons of an act of witch-craft that with diabolical137 and subtile methods wrought138 privily139 to destroy the King, the said Dame Jehane is by the King committed (all her attendants being removed) to the custody140 of Sir John Pelham, who will, at the King’s pleasure, confine her within Pevensey Castle, there to be kept under Sir John’s control: the lands and other properties of the said Dame Jehane being hereby forfeit141 to the King, whom God preserve!”
“Harry of Monmouth!” said Jehane,—“ah, my tall stepson, could I but come to you, very quietly, with a knife—!” She shrugged142 her shoulders, and the gold about her person glittered in the sunlight. “Witchcraft! ohimé, one never disproves that. Friend, now are you avenged143 the more abundantly.”
She wheeled, a lithe60 flame (he thought) of splendid fury. “And in the gutter145 Jehane dares say what Queen Jehane upon the throne might never say. Had I reigned146 all these years as mistress not of England but of Europe,—had nations wheedled147 me in the place of barons,—young Riczi had been none the less avenged. Bah! what do these so-little persons matter? Take now your petty vengeance! drink deep of it! and know that always within my heart the Navarrese has lived to shame me! Know that to-day you despise Jehane, the purchased woman! and that Jehane loves you! and that the love of proud Jehane creeps like a beaten cur toward your feet, in the sight of common men! and know that Riczi is avenged,—you milliner!”
“Into England I came desiring vengeance—Apples of Sodom! O bitter fruit!” the Vicomte thought; “O fitting harvest of a fool’s assiduous husbandry!”
They took her from him: and that afternoon, after long meditation148, the Vicomte de Montbrison entreated149 a second private audience of King Henry, and readily obtained it. “Unhardy is unseely,” the Vicomte said at this interview’s conclusion. The tale tells that the Vicomte returned to France and within this realm assembled all such lords as the abuses of the Queen-Regent Isabeau had more notoriously dissatisfied.
The Vicomte had upon occasion an invaluable150 power of speech; and now, so great was the devotion of love’s dupe, so heartily151, so hastily, did he design to remove the discomforts152 of Queen Jehane, that now his eloquence153 was twin to Belial’s insidious154 talking when that fiend tempts155 us to some proud iniquity156.
Then presently these lords had sided with King Henry, as did the Vicomte de Montbrison, in open field. Next, as luck would have it, Jehan Sans-Peur was slain at Montereau; and a little later the new Duke of Burgundy, who loved the Vicomte as he loved no other man, had shifted his coat, forsaking157 France. These treacheries brought down the wavering scales of warfare158, suddenly, with an aweful clangor; and now in France clean-hearted persons spoke of the Vicomte de Montbrison as they would speak of Ganelon or of Iscariot, and in every market-place was King Henry proclaimed as governor of the realm.
Meantime Queen Jehane had been conveyed to prison and lodged159 therein. She had the liberty of a tiny garden, high-walled, and of two scantily160 furnished chambers161. The brace8 of hard-featured females whom Pelham had provided for the Queen’s attendance might speak to her of nothing that occurred without the gates of Pevensey, and she saw no other persons save her confessor, a triple-chinned Dominican; had men already lain Jehane within the massive and gilded162 coffin163 of a queen the outer world would have made as great a turbulence164 in her ears.
But in the year of grace 1422, upon the feast of Saint Bartholomew, and about vespers—for thus it wonderfully fell out,—one of those grim attendants brought to her the first man, save the fat confessor, whom the Queen had seen within five years. The proud, frail woman looked and what she saw was the inhabitant of all her dreams.
Said Jehane: “This is ill done. Time has avenged you. Be contented165 with that knowledge, and, for Heaven’s sake, do not endeavor to moralize over the ruin which Heaven has made, and justly made, of Queen Jehane, as I perceive you mean to do.” She leaned backward in the chair, very coarsely clad in brown, but knowing that her coloring was excellent, that she had miraculously166 preserved her figure, and that she did not look her real age by a good ten years. Such reflections beget167 spiritual comfort even in a prison.
“Friend,” the lean-faced man now said, “I do not come with such intent, as my mission will readily attest168, nor to any ruin, as your mirror will attest. Instead, madame, I come as the emissary of King Henry, now dying at Vincennes, and with letters to the lords and bishops169 of his council. Dying, the man restores to you your liberty and your dower-lands, your bed and all your movables, and six gowns of such fashion and such color as you may elect.”
Then with hurried speech he told her of five years’ events: of how within that period King Henry had conquered France, and had married the French King’s daughter, and had begotten170 a boy who would presently inherit the united realms of France and England, since in the supreme171 hour of triumph King Henry had been stricken with a mortal sickness, and now lay dying, or perhaps already dead, at Vincennes; and of how with his penultimate breath the prostrate172 conqueror173 had restored to Queen Jehane all properties and all honors which she formerly174 enjoyed.
“I shall once more be Regent,” the woman said when the Vicomte had made an end; “Antoine, I shall presently be Regent both of France and of England, since Dame Katharine is but a child.” Jehane stood motionless save for the fine hands that plucked the air. “Mistress of Europe! absolute mistress, and with an infant ward11! now, may God have mercy on my unfriends, for they will soon perceive great need of it!”
“Yet was mercy ever the prerogative175 of royal persons,” the Vicomte suavely176 said, “and the Navarrese we know of was both royal and very merciful, O Constant Lover.”
The speech was as a whip-lash. Abruptly177 suspicion kindled178 in her shrewd gray eyes. “Harry of Monmouth feared neither man nor God. It needed more than any death-bed repentance179 to frighten him into restoring my liberty.” There was a silence. “You, a Frenchman, come as the emissary of King Henry who has devastated180 France! are there no English lords, then, left alive of his, army?”
The Vicomte de Montbrison said; “There is at all events no person better fitted to patch up this dishonorable business of your captivity181, in which no clean man would care to meddle182.”
She appraised183 this, and said with entire irrelevance184: “The world has smirched you, somehow. At last you have done something save consider how badly I treated you. I praise God, Antoine, for it brings you nearer.”
He told her all. King Henry, it appeared, had dealt with him at Havering in perfect frankness. The King needed money for his wars in France, and failing the seizure185 of Jehane’s enormous wealth, had exhausted186 every resource. “And France I mean to have,” the King said. “Now the world knows you enjoy the favor of the Comte de Charolais; so get me an alliance with Burgundy against my imbecile brother of France, and Dame Jehane shall repossess her liberty. There you have my price.”
“And this price I paid,” the Vicomte sternly said, “for ‘Unhardy is unseely,’ Satan whispered, and I knew that Duke Philippe trusted me. Yea, all Burgundy I marshalled under your stepson’s banner, and for three years I fought beneath his loathed187 banner, until at Troyes we had trapped and slain the last loyal Frenchman. And to-day in France my lands are confiscate188, and there is not an honest Frenchman but spits upon my name. All infamy189 I come to you for this last time, Jehane! as a man already dead I come to you, Jehane, for in France they thirst to murder me, and England has no further need of Montbrison, her blunted and her filthy190 instrument!”
The woman nodded here. “You have set my thankless service above your life, above your honor. I find the rhymester glorious and very vile192.”
“All vile,” he answered; “and outworn! King’s daughter, I swore to you, long since, eternal service. Of love I freely gave you yonder in Navarre, as yonder at Eltham I crucified my innermost heart for your delectation. Yet I, at least, keep faith, and in your face I fling faith like a glove—outworn, it may be, and God knows, unclean! Yet I, at least, keep faith! Lands and wealth have I given, up for you, O king’s daughter, and life itself have I given you, and lifelong service have I given you, and all that I had save honor; and at the last I give you honor, too. Now let the naked fool depart, Jehane, for he has nothing more to give.”
While the Vicomte de Montbrison spoke thus, she had leaned upon the sill of an open casement193. “Indeed, it had been better,” she said, still with her face averted194, and gazing downward at the tree-tops beneath, “it had been far better had we never met. For this love of ours has proven a tyrannous and evil lord. I have had everything, and upon each feast of will and sense the world afforded me this love has swept down, like a harpy—was it not a harpy you called the bird in that old poem of yours?—to rob me of delight. And you have had nothing, for he has pilfered195 you of life, giving only dreams in exchange, my poor Antoine, and he has led you at the last to infamy. We are as God made us, and—I may not understand why He permits this despotism.”
Thereafter, somewhere below, a peasant sang as he passed supperward through the green twilight, lit as yet by one low-hanging star alone.
Sang the peasant:
“King Jesus hung upon the Cross,
‘And have ye sinned?’ quo’ He,—.
And thou shall sup with Me,—
Sedebis apud angelos,
Quia amavisti!’
“At Heaven’s Gate was Heaven’s Queen,
‘And have ye sinned?’ quo’ She,—
‘And would I hold him worth a bean
That durst not seek, because unclean,
Speak thou that wast the Magdalene,
Quia amavisti!’”
“It may be that in some sort the jingle199 answers me!” then said Jehane; and she began with an odd breathlessness, “Friend, when King Henry dies—and even now he dies—shall I not as Regent possess such power as no woman has ever wielded200 in Europe? can aught prevent this?”
“It is true,” he answered. “You leave this prison to rule over England again, and over conquered France as well, and naught201 can prevent it.”
“Unless, friend, I were wedded202 to a Frenchman. Then would the stern English lords never permit that I have any finger in the government.” She came to him with conspicuous203 deliberation and rested her hands upon his breast. “Friend, I am weary of these tinsel splendors204. What are this England and this France to me, who crave the real kingdom?”
Her mouth was tremulous and lax, and her gray eyes were more brilliant than the star yonder. The man’s arms were about her, and of the man’s face I cannot tell you. “King’s daughter! mistress of half Europe! I am a beggar, an outcast, as a leper among honorable persons.”
But it was as though he had not spoken. “Friend, it was for this I have outlived these garish205, fevered years, it was this which made me glad when I was a child and laughed without knowing why. That I might to-day give up this so-great power for love of you, my all-incapable and soiled Antoine, was, as I now know, the end to which the Eternal Father created me. For, look you,” she pleaded, “to surrender absolute dominion over half Europe is a sacrifice. Assure me that it is a sacrifice, Antoine! O glorious fool, delude206 me into the belief that I surrender much in choosing you! Nay, I know it is as nothing beside what you have given up for me, but it is all I have—it is all I have, Antoine!”
He drew a deep and big-lunged breath that seemed to inform his being with an indomitable vigor207; and grief and doubtfulness went quite away from him. “Love leads us,” he said, “and through the sunlight of the world Love leads us, and through the filth191 of it Love leads us, but always in the end, if we but follow without swerving208, Love leads upward. Yet, O God upon the Cross! Thou that in the article of death didst pardon Dysmas! as what maimed warriors209 of life, as what bemired travellers in muddied byways, must we presently come to Thee!”
“Ah, but we will come hand in hand,” she answered; “and He will comprehend.”
THE END OF THE NINTH NOVEL
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duel
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n./v.决斗;(双方的)斗争 | |
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flouted
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v.藐视,轻视( flout的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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sumptuously
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奢侈地,豪华地 | |
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nominal
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adj.名义上的;(金额、租金)微不足道的 | |
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twilight
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n.暮光,黄昏;暮年,晚期,衰落时期 | |
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spoke
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n.(车轮的)辐条;轮辐;破坏某人的计划;阻挠某人的行动 v.讲,谈(speak的过去式);说;演说;从某种观点来说 | |
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wed
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v.娶,嫁,与…结婚 | |
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brace
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n. 支柱,曲柄,大括号; v. 绷紧,顶住,(为困难或坏事)做准备 | |
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brutal
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adj.残忍的,野蛮的,不讲理的 | |
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snarled
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v.(指狗)吠,嗥叫, (人)咆哮( snarl的过去式和过去分词 );咆哮着说,厉声地说 | |
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ward
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n.守卫,监护,病房,行政区,由监护人或法院保护的人(尤指儿童);vt.守护,躲开 | |
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sustenance
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n.食物,粮食;生活资料;生计 | |
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immortal
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adj.不朽的;永生的,不死的;神的 | |
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entreat
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v.恳求,恳请 | |
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crave
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vt.渴望得到,迫切需要,恳求,请求 | |
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falter
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vi.(嗓音)颤抖,结巴地说;犹豫;蹒跚 | |
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bleak
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adj.(天气)阴冷的;凄凉的;暗淡的 | |
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perfectly
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adv.完美地,无可非议地,彻底地 | |
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severance
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n.离职金;切断 | |
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shrill
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adj.尖声的;刺耳的;v尖叫 | |
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chattering
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n. (机器振动发出的)咔嗒声,(鸟等)鸣,啁啾 adj. 喋喋不休的,啾啾声的 动词chatter的现在分词形式 | |
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babbling
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n.胡说,婴儿发出的咿哑声adj.胡说的v.喋喋不休( babble的现在分词 );作潺潺声(如流水);含糊不清地说话;泄漏秘密 | |
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captious
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adj.难讨好的,吹毛求疵的 | |
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adoration
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n.爱慕,崇拜 | |
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baron
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n.男爵;(商业界等)巨头,大王 | |
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stentorian
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adj.大声的,响亮的 | |
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shimmering
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v.闪闪发光,发微光( shimmer的现在分词 ) | |
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adroitly
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adv.熟练地,敏捷地 | |
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tapestries
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n.挂毯( tapestry的名词复数 );绣帷,织锦v.用挂毯(或绣帷)装饰( tapestry的第三人称单数 ) | |
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embroidered
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adj.绣花的 | |
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phoenixes
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凤凰,长生鸟(神话中的鸟,在阿拉伯沙漠中,可活数百年,然后自焚为灰而再生)( phoenix的名词复数 ); 菲尼克斯 (美国城市) | |
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thicket
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n.灌木丛,树林 | |
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dreary
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adj.令人沮丧的,沉闷的,单调乏味的 | |
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preoccupied
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adj.全神贯注的,入神的;被抢先占有的;心事重重的v.占据(某人)思想,使对…全神贯注,使专心于( preoccupy的过去式) | |
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tempt
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vt.引诱,勾引,吸引,引起…的兴趣 | |
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fabric
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n.织物,织品,布;构造,结构,组织 | |
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wares
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n. 货物, 商品 | |
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disastrous
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adj.灾难性的,造成灾害的;极坏的,很糟的 | |
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growled
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v.(动物)发狺狺声, (雷)作隆隆声( growl的过去式和过去分词 );低声咆哮着说 | |
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decrepitude
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n.衰老;破旧 | |
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abominable
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adj.可厌的,令人憎恶的 | |
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dame
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n.女士 | |
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canopy
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n.天篷,遮篷 | |
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divers
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adj.不同的;种种的 | |
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mincing
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adj.矫饰的;v.切碎;切碎 | |
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lute
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n.琵琶,鲁特琴 | |
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frail
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adj.身体虚弱的;易损坏的 | |
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effigy
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n.肖像 | |
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tinted
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adj. 带色彩的 动词tint的过去式和过去分词 | |
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lavishly
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adv.慷慨地,大方地 | |
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adorned
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[计]被修饰的 | |
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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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drawn
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v.拖,拉,拔出;adj.憔悴的,紧张的 | |
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garnished
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v.给(上餐桌的食物)加装饰( garnish的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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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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perilous
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adj.危险的,冒险的 | |
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lamentably
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adv.哀伤地,拙劣地 | |
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abhors
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v.憎恶( abhor的第三人称单数 );(厌恶地)回避;拒绝;淘汰 | |
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blithe
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adj.快乐的,无忧无虑的 | |
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lithe
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adj.(指人、身体)柔软的,易弯的 | |
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slain
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杀死,宰杀,杀戮( slay的过去分词 ); (slay的过去分词) | |
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splendor
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n.光彩;壮丽,华丽;显赫,辉煌 | |
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rigid
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adj.严格的,死板的;刚硬的,僵硬的 | |
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requite
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v.报酬,报答 | |
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austere
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adj.艰苦的;朴素的,朴实无华的;严峻的 | |
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proxy
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n.代理权,代表权;(对代理人的)委托书;代理人 | |
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brutally
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adv.残忍地,野蛮地,冷酷无情地 | |
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flaunt
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vt.夸耀,夸饰 | |
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attain
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vt.达到,获得,完成 | |
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vipers
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n.蝰蛇( viper的名词复数 );毒蛇;阴险恶毒的人;奸诈者 | |
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strand
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vt.使(船)搁浅,使(某人)困于(某地) | |
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parable
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n.寓言,比喻 | |
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reign
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n.统治时期,统治,支配,盛行;v.占优势 | |
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squinting
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斜视( squint的现在分词 ); 眯着眼睛; 瞟; 从小孔或缝隙里看 | |
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harry
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vt.掠夺,蹂躏,使苦恼 | |
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precisely
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adv.恰好,正好,精确地,细致地 | |
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plight
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n.困境,境况,誓约,艰难;vt.宣誓,保证,约定 | |
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afterward
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adv.后来;以后 | |
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scarlet
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n.深红色,绯红色,红衣;adj.绯红色的 | |
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costly
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adj.昂贵的,价值高的,豪华的 | |
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inveterate
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adj.积习已深的,根深蒂固的 | |
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appraisal
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n.对…作出的评价;评价,鉴定,评估 | |
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abode
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n.住处,住所 | |
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hawked
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通过叫卖主动兜售(hawk的过去式与过去分词形式) | |
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sonnets
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n.十四行诗( sonnet的名词复数 ) | |
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zealous
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adj.狂热的,热心的 | |
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admiration
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n.钦佩,赞美,羡慕 | |
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malady
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n.病,疾病(通常做比喻) | |
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vaulting
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n.(天花板或屋顶的)拱形结构 | |
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wrath
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n.愤怒,愤慨,暴怒 | |
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relish
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n.滋味,享受,爱好,调味品;vt.加调味料,享受,品味;vi.有滋味 | |
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chattels
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n.动产,奴隶( chattel的名词复数 ) | |
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vapors
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n.水汽,水蒸气,无实质之物( vapor的名词复数 );自夸者;幻想 [药]吸入剂 [古]忧郁(症)v.自夸,(使)蒸发( vapor的第三人称单数 ) | |
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dominion
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n.统治,管辖,支配权;领土,版图 | |
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scant
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adj.不充分的,不足的;v.减缩,限制,忽略 | |
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mischief
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n.损害,伤害,危害;恶作剧,捣蛋,胡闹 | |
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forth
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adv.向前;向外,往外 | |
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homage
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n.尊敬,敬意,崇敬 | |
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secondly
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adv.第二,其次 | |
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accredited
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adj.可接受的;可信任的;公认的;质量合格的v.相信( accredit的过去式和过去分词 );委托;委任;把…归结于 | |
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plausible
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adj.似真实的,似乎有理的,似乎可信的 | |
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disquieting
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adj.令人不安的,令人不平静的v.使不安,使忧虑,使烦恼( disquiet的现在分词 ) | |
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monarch
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n.帝王,君主,最高统治者 | |
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preposterous
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adj.荒谬的,可笑的 | |
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advent
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n.(重要事件等的)到来,来临 | |
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huddled
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挤在一起(huddle的过去式与过去分词形式) | |
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fortified
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adj. 加强的 | |
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recluse
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n.隐居者 | |
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torrent
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n.激流,洪流;爆发,(话语等的)连发 | |
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vassals
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n.奴仆( vassal的名词复数 );(封建时代)诸侯;从属者;下属 | |
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discredited
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不足信的,不名誉的 | |
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renewal
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adj.(契约)延期,续订,更新,复活,重来 | |
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inevitable
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adj.不可避免的,必然发生的 | |
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chamber
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n.房间,寝室;会议厅;议院;会所 | |
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profusely
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ad.abundantly | |
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pretence
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n.假装,作假;借口,口实;虚伪;虚饰 | |
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tapestry
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n.挂毯,丰富多采的画面 | |
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judgment
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n.审判;判断力,识别力,看法,意见 | |
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faculties
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n.能力( faculty的名词复数 );全体教职员;技巧;院 | |
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hatred
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n.憎恶,憎恨,仇恨 | |
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terse
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adj.(说话,文笔)精炼的,简明的 | |
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deigned
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v.屈尊,俯就( deign的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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avenge
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v.为...复仇,为...报仇 | |
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misery
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n.痛苦,苦恼,苦难;悲惨的境遇,贫苦 | |
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prim
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adj.拘泥形式的,一本正经的;n.循规蹈矩,整洁;adv.循规蹈矩地,整洁地 | |
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harried
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v.使苦恼( harry的过去式和过去分词 );不断烦扰;一再袭击;侵扰 | |
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prick
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v.刺伤,刺痛,刺孔;n.刺伤,刺痛 | |
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corpse
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n.尸体,死尸 | |
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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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furtive
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adj.鬼鬼崇崇的,偷偷摸摸的 | |
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spat
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n.口角,掌击;v.发出呼噜呼噜声 | |
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knave
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n.流氓;(纸牌中的)杰克 | |
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plaintively
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adv.悲哀地,哀怨地 | |
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accusation
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n.控告,指责,谴责 | |
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gems
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growth; economy; management; and customer satisfaction 增长 | |
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fetters
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n.脚镣( fetter的名词复数 );束缚v.给…上脚镣,束缚( fetter的第三人称单数 ) | |
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diabolical
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adj.恶魔似的,凶暴的 | |
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wrought
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v.引起;以…原料制作;运转;adj.制造的 | |
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139
privily
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adv.暗中,秘密地 | |
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140
custody
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n.监护,照看,羁押,拘留 | |
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141
forfeit
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vt.丧失;n.罚金,罚款,没收物 | |
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142
shrugged
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vt.耸肩(shrug的过去式与过去分词形式) | |
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143
avenged
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v.为…复仇,报…之仇( avenge的过去式和过去分词 );为…报复 | |
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144
vengeance
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n.报复,报仇,复仇 | |
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145
gutter
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n.沟,街沟,水槽,檐槽,贫民窟 | |
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146
reigned
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vi.当政,统治(reign的过去式形式) | |
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147
wheedled
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v.骗取(某物),哄骗(某人干某事)( wheedle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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148
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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149
entreated
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恳求,乞求( entreat的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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150
invaluable
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adj.无价的,非常宝贵的,极为贵重的 | |
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151
heartily
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adv.衷心地,诚恳地,十分,很 | |
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152
discomforts
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n.不舒适( discomfort的名词复数 );不愉快,苦恼 | |
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153
eloquence
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n.雄辩;口才,修辞 | |
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154
insidious
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adj.阴险的,隐匿的,暗中为害的,(疾病)不知不觉之间加剧 | |
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155
tempts
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v.引诱或怂恿(某人)干不正当的事( tempt的第三人称单数 );使想要 | |
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156
iniquity
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n.邪恶;不公正 | |
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157
forsaking
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放弃( forsake的现在分词 ); 弃绝; 抛弃; 摒弃 | |
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158
warfare
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n.战争(状态);斗争;冲突 | |
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159
lodged
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v.存放( lodge的过去式和过去分词 );暂住;埋入;(权利、权威等)归属 | |
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160
scantily
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adv.缺乏地;不充足地;吝啬地;狭窄地 | |
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161
chambers
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n.房间( chamber的名词复数 );(议会的)议院;卧室;会议厅 | |
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162
gilded
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a.镀金的,富有的 | |
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163
coffin
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n.棺材,灵柩 | |
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164
turbulence
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n.喧嚣,狂暴,骚乱,湍流 | |
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165
contented
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adj.满意的,安心的,知足的 | |
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166
miraculously
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ad.奇迹般地 | |
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167
beget
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v.引起;产生 | |
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168
attest
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vt.证明,证实;表明 | |
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169
bishops
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(基督教某些教派管辖大教区的)主教( bishop的名词复数 ); (国际象棋的)象 | |
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170
begotten
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v.为…之生父( beget的过去分词 );产生,引起 | |
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171
supreme
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adj.极度的,最重要的;至高的,最高的 | |
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172
prostrate
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v.拜倒,平卧,衰竭;adj.拜倒的,平卧的,衰竭的 | |
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173
conqueror
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n.征服者,胜利者 | |
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174
formerly
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adv.从前,以前 | |
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175
prerogative
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n.特权 | |
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176
suavely
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177
abruptly
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adv.突然地,出其不意地 | |
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178
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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179
repentance
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n.懊悔 | |
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180
devastated
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v.彻底破坏( devastate的过去式和过去分词);摧毁;毁灭;在感情上(精神上、财务上等)压垮adj.毁坏的;极为震惊的 | |
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181
captivity
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n.囚禁;被俘;束缚 | |
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182
meddle
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v.干预,干涉,插手 | |
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183
appraised
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v.估价( appraise的过去式和过去分词 );估计;估量;评价 | |
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184
irrelevance
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n.无关紧要;不相关;不相关的事物 | |
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185
seizure
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n.没收;占有;抵押 | |
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186
exhausted
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adj.极其疲惫的,精疲力尽的 | |
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187
loathed
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v.憎恨,厌恶( loathe的过去式和过去分词 );极不喜欢 | |
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188
confiscate
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v.没收(私人财产),把…充公 | |
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189
infamy
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n.声名狼藉,出丑,恶行 | |
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190
filthy
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adj.卑劣的;恶劣的,肮脏的 | |
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191
filth
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n.肮脏,污物,污秽;淫猥 | |
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192
vile
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adj.卑鄙的,可耻的,邪恶的;坏透的 | |
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193
casement
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n.竖铰链窗;窗扉 | |
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194
averted
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防止,避免( avert的过去式和过去分词 ); 转移 | |
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195
pilfered
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v.偷窃(小东西),小偷( pilfer的过去式和过去分词 );偷窃(一般指小偷小摸) | |
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196
nay
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adv.不;n.反对票,投反对票者 | |
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197
dice
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n.骰子;vt.把(食物)切成小方块,冒险 | |
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198
cleansing
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n. 净化(垃圾) adj. 清洁用的 动词cleanse的现在分词 | |
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199
jingle
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n.叮当声,韵律简单的诗句;v.使叮当作响,叮当响,押韵 | |
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200
wielded
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手持着使用(武器、工具等)( wield的过去式和过去分词 ); 具有; 运用(权力); 施加(影响) | |
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201
naught
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n.无,零 [=nought] | |
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202
wedded
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adj.正式结婚的;渴望…的,执著于…的v.嫁,娶,(与…)结婚( wed的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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203
conspicuous
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adj.明眼的,惹人注目的;炫耀的,摆阔气的 | |
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204
splendors
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n.华丽( splendor的名词复数 );壮丽;光辉;显赫 | |
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205
garish
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adj.华丽而俗气的,华而不实的 | |
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206
delude
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vt.欺骗;哄骗 | |
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207
vigor
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n.活力,精力,元气 | |
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208
swerving
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v.(使)改变方向,改变目的( swerve的现在分词 ) | |
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209
warriors
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武士,勇士,战士( warrior的名词复数 ) | |
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