The reign1 of Elizabeth, (1558 to 1603), falls into two parts: the thirty years that preceded the defeat of the Spanish Armada, and the fifteen that followed it. The earlier period was one of preparation; it was then that the tremendous work was accomplished2 which made England a coherent nation, finally independent of the Continent, and produced a state of affairs in which the whole energies of the country could find free scope. During those long years the dominating qualities of the men in power were skill and prudence3. The times were so hard that anything else was out of place. For a whole generation the vast caution of Burghley was the supreme4 influence in England. The lesser5 figures followed suit; and, for that very reason, a certain indistinctness veils them from our view. Walsingham worked underground; Leicester, with all his gorgeousness, is dim to us — an uncertain personage, bending to every wind; the Lord Chancellor6 Hatton danced, and that is all we know of him. Then suddenly the kaleidoscope shifted; the old ways, the old actors, were swept off with the wreckage7 of the Armada. Burghley alone remained — a monument from the past. In the place of Leicester and Walsingham, Essex and Raleigh — young, bold, coloured, brilliantly personal — sprang forward and filled the scene of public action. It was the same in every other field of national energy: the snows of the germinating8 winter had melted, and the wonderful spring of Elizabethan culture burst into life.
The age — it was that of Marlowe and Spenser, of the early Shakespeare and the Francis Bacon of the Essays — needs no description: everybody knows its outward appearances and the literary expressions of its heart. More valuable than descriptions, but what perhaps is unattainable, would be some means by which the modern mind might reach to an imaginative comprehension of those beings of three centuries ago — might move with ease among their familiar essential feelings — might touch, or dream that it touches, (for such dreams are the stuff of history), the very “pulse of the machine.” But the path seems closed to us. By what art are we to worm our way into those strange spirits, those even stranger bodies? The more clearly we perceive it, the more remote that singular universe becomes. With very few exceptions — possibly with the single exception of Shakespeare — the creatures in it meet us without intimacy9; they are exterior10 visions, which we know, but do not truly understand.
It is, above all, the contradictions of the age that baffle our imagination and perplex our intelligence. Human beings, no doubt, would cease to be human beings unless they were inconsistent; but the inconsistency of the Elizabethans exceeds the limits permitted to man. Their elements fly off from one another wildly; we seize them; we struggle hard to shake them together into a single compound, and the retort bursts. How is it possible to give a coherent account of their subtlety12 and their na?veté, their delicacy13 and their brutality14, their piety15 and their lust16? Wherever we look, it is the same. By what perverse17 magic were intellectual ingenuity18 and theological ingenuousness19 intertwined in John Donne? Who has ever explained Francis Bacon? How is it conceivable that the puritans were the brothers of the dramatists? What kind of mental fabric20 could that have been which had for its warp21 the habits of filth22 and savagery23 of sixteenth-century London and for its woof an impassioned familiarity with the splendour of Tamburlaine and the exquisiteness24 of Venus and Adonis? Who can reconstruct those iron-nerved beings who passed with rapture26 from some divine madrigal27 sung to a lute28 by a bewitching boy in a tavern29 to the spectacle of mauled dogs tearing a bear to pieces? Iron-nerved? Perhaps; yet the flaunting30 man of fashion, whose codpiece proclaimed an astonishing virility31, was he not also, with his flowing hair and his jewelled ears, effeminate? And the curious society which loved such fantasies and delicacies32 - how readily would it turn and rend33 a random34 victim with hideous35 cruelty! A change of fortune — a spy’s word — and those same ears might be sliced off, to the laughter of the crowd, in the pillory36; or, if ambition or religion made a darker embroilment37, a more ghastly mutilation — amid a welter of moral platitudes38 fit only for the nursery and dying confessions39 in marvellous English — might diversify40 a traitor’s end.
It was the age of baroque; and perhaps it is the incongruity41 between their structure and their ornament42 that best accounts for the mystery of the Elizabethans. It is so hard to gauge43, from the exuberance44 of their decoration, the subtle, secret lines of their inner nature. Certainly this was so in one crowning example — certainly no more baroque figure ever trod this earth than the supreme phenomenon of Elizabethanism — Elizabeth herself. From her visible aspect to the profundities45 of her being, every part of her was permeated46 by the bewildering discordances of the real and the apparent. Under the serried47 complexities48 of her raiment — the huge hoop49, the stiff ruff, the swollen50 sleeves, the powdered pearls, the spreading, gilded51 gauzes — the form of the woman vanished, and men saw instead an image — magnificent, portentous52, self-created — an image of regality, which yet, by a miracle, was actually alive. Posterity53 has suffered by a similar deceit of vision. The great Queen of its imagination, the lion-hearted heroine, who flung back the insolence54 of Spain and crushed the tyranny of Rome with splendid unhesitating gestures, no more resembles the Queen of fact than the clothed Elizabeth the naked one. But, after all, posterity is privileged. Let us draw nearer; we shall do no wrong now to that Majesty55, if we look below the robes.
The lion heart, the splendid gestures — such heroic things were there, no doubt — visible to everybody; but their true significance in the general scheme of her character was remote and complicated. The sharp and hostile eyes of the Spanish ambassadors saw something different; in their opinion, the outstanding characteristic of Elizabeth was pusillanimity57. They were wrong; but they perceived more of the truth than the idle onlooker58. They had come into contact with those forces in the Queen’s mind which proved, incidentally, fatal to themselves, and brought her, in the end, her enormous triumph. That triumph was not the result of heroism59. The very contrary was the case: the grand policy which dominated Elizabeth’s life was the most unheroic conceivable; and her true history remains60 a standing56 lesson for melodramatists in statecraft. In reality, she succeeded by virtue61 of all the qualities which every hero should be without — dissimulation62, pliability63, indecision, procrastination64, parsimony65. It might almost be said that the heroic element chiefly appeared in the unparalleled lengths to which she allowed those qualities to carry her. It needed a lion heart indeed to spend twelve years in convincing the world that she was in love with the Duke of Anjou, and to stint66 the victuals67 of the men who defeated the Armada; but in such directions she was in very truth capable of everything. She found herself a sane68 woman in a universe of violent maniacs69, between contending forces of terrific intensity70 — the rival nationalisms of France and Spain, the rival religions of Rome and Calvin; for years it had seemed inevitable71 that she should be crushed by one or other of them, and she had survived because she had been able to meet the extremes around her with her own extremes of cunning and prevarication72. It so happened that the subtlety of her intellect was exactly adapted to the complexities of her environment. The balance of power between France and Spain, the balance of factions73 in France and Scotland, the swaying fortunes of the Netherlands, gave scope for a tortuosity74 of diplomacy75 which has never been completely unravelled76 to this day. Burghley was her chosen helper, a careful steward77 after her own heart; and more than once Burghley gave up the puzzle of his mistress’s proceedings78 in despair. Nor was it only her intellect that served her; it was her temperament79 as well. That too — in its mixture of the masculine and the feminine, of vigour80 and sinuosity, of pertinacity81 and vacillation82 — was precisely83 what her case required. A deep instinct made it almost impossible for her to come to a fixed84 determination upon any subject whatever. Or, if she did, she immediately proceeded to contradict her resolution with the utmost violence, and, after that, to contradict her contradiction more violently still. Such was her nature — to float, when it was calm, in a sea of indecisions, and, when the wind rose, to tack86 hectically87 from side to side. Had it been otherwise — had she possessed88, according to the approved pattern of the strong man of action, the capacity for taking a line and sticking to it — she would have been lost. She would have become inextricably entangled89 in the forces that surrounded her, and, almost inevitably90, swiftly destroyed. Her femininity saved her. Only a woman could have shuffled91 so shamelessly, only a woman could have abandoned with such unscrupulous completeness the last shreds92 not only of consistency11, but of dignity, honour, and common decency93, in order to escape the appalling94 necessity of having, really and truly, to make up her mind. Yet it is true that a woman’s evasiveness was not enough; male courage, male energy were needed, if she were to escape the pressure that came upon her from every side. Those qualities she also possessed; but their value to her — it was the final paradox95 of her career — was merely that they made her strong enough to turn her back, with an indomitable persistence96, upon the ways of strength.
Religious persons at the time were distressed97 by her conduct, and imperialist historians have wrung98 their hands over her since. Why could she not suppress her hesitations99 and chicaneries100 and take a noble risk? Why did she not step forth101, boldly and frankly102, as the leader of Protestant Europe, accept the sovereignty of Holland, and fight the good fight to destroy Catholicism and transfer the Spanish Empire to the rule of England? The answer is that she cared for none of those things. She understood her true nature and her true mission better than her critics. It was only by an accident of birth that she was a Protestant leader; at heart she was profoundly secular103; and it was her destiny to be the champion, not of the Reformation, but of something greater — the Renaissance104. When she had finished her strange doings, there was civilisation105 in England. The secret of her conduct was, after all, a simple one: she had been gaining time. And time, for her purposes, was everything. A decision meant war — war, which was the very antithesis106 of all she had at heart. Like no other great statesman in history, she was, not only by disposition107 but in practice, pacific. It was not that she was much disturbed by the cruelty of war — she was far from sentimental108; she hated it for the best of all reasons — its wastefulness109. Her thrift110 was spiritual as well as material, and the harvest that she gathered in was the great Age, to which, though its supreme glories were achieved under her successor, her name has been rightly given. For without her those particular fields could never have come to ripeness; they would have been trodden down by struggling hordes111 of nationalists and theologians. She kept the peace for thirty years — by dint112, it is true, of one long succession of disgraceful collapses113 and unheard-of equivocations; but she kept it, and that was enough for Elizabeth.
To put the day of decision off — and off — and off — it seemed her only object, and her life passed in a passion of postponement114. But here, too, appearances were deceitful, as her adversaries115 found to their cost. In the end, when the pendulum116 had swung to and fro for ages, and delay had grown grey, and expectation sunk down in its socket117, something terrible happened. The crafty118 Maitland of Lethington, in whose eyes the God of his fathers was “ane bogle of the nursery,” declared with scorn that the Queen of England was inconstant, irresolute119, timorous120, and that before the game was played out he would “make her sit upon her tail and whine121, like ane whippet hound.” Long years passed, and then suddenly the rocks of Edinburgh Castle ran down like sand at Elizabeth’s bidding, and Maitland took refuge from the impossible ruin in a Roman’s death. Mary Stuart despised her rival with a virulent122 French scorn; and, after eighteen years, at Fotheringay, she found she was mistaken. King Philip took thirty years to learn the same lesson. For so long had he spared his sister-in-law; but now he pronounced her doom123; and he smiled to watch the misguided woman still negotiating for a universal peace, as his Armada sailed into the Channel.
Undoubtedly124 there was a touch of the sinister125 about her. One saw it in the movements of her extraordinarily126 long hands. But it was a touch and no more — just enough to remind one that there was Italian blood in her veins127 — the blood of the subtle and cruel Visconti. On the whole, she was English. On the whole, though she was infinitely128 subtle, she was not cruel; she was almost humane129 for her times; and her occasional bursts of savagery were the results of fear or temper. In spite of superficial resemblances, she was the very opposite of her most dangerous enemy — the weaving spider of the Escurial. Both were masters of dissimulation and lovers of delay; but the leaden foot of Philip was the symptom of a dying organism, while Elizabeth temporised for the contrary reason — because vitality130 can afford to wait. The fierce old hen sat still, brooding over the English nation, whose pullulating energies were coming swiftly to ripeness and unity131 under her wings. She sat still; but every feather bristled132; she was tremendously alive. Her superabundant vigour was at once alarming and delightful133. While the Spanish ambassador declared that ten thousand devils possessed her, the ordinary Englishman saw in King Hal’s full-blooded daughter a Queen after his own heart. She swore; she spat134; she struck with her fist when she was angry; she roared with laughter when she was amused. And she was often amused. A radiant atmosphere of humour coloured and softened135 the harsh lines of her destiny, and buoyed136 her up along the zigzags137 of her dreadful path. Her response to every stimulus138 was immediate85 and rich: to the folly139 of the moment, to the clash and horror of great events, her soul leapt out with a vivacity141, an abandonment, a complete awareness142 of the situation, which made her, which makes her still, a fascinating spectacle. She could play with life as with an equal, wrestling with it, making fun of it, admiring it, watching its drama, intimately relishing143 the strangeness of circumstance, the sudden freaks of fortune, the perpetual unexpectedness of things. “Per molto variare la natura è bella” was one of her favourite aphorisms144.
The variations in her own behaviour were hardly less frequent than nature’s. The rough hectoring dame145 with her practical jokes, her out-of-doors manners, her passion for hunting, would suddenly become a stern-faced woman of business, closeted for long hours with secretaries, reading and dictating146 despatches, and examining with sharp exactitude the minutiae147 of accounts. Then, as suddenly, the cultivated lady of the Renaissance would shine forth. For Elizabeth’s accomplishments148 were many and dazzling. She was mistress of six languages besides her own, a student of Greek, a superb calligraphist149, an excellent musician. She was a connoisseur150 of painting and poetry. She danced, after the Florentine style, with a high magnificence that astonished beholders. Her conversation, full, not only of humour, but of elegance151 and wit, revealed an unerring social sense, a charming delicacy of personal perception. It was this spiritual versatility152 which made her one of the supreme diplomatists of history. Her protean153 mind, projecting itself with extreme rapidity into every sinuous154 shape conceivable, perplexed155 the most clear-sighted of her antagonists156 and deluded158 the most wary159. But her crowning virtuosity160 was her command over the resources of words. When she wished, she could drive in her meaning up to the hilt with hammer blows of speech, and no one ever surpassed her in the elaborate confection of studied ambiguities161. Her letters she composed in a regal mode of her own, full of apophthegm and insinuation. In private talk she could win a heart by some quick felicitous162 brusquerie; but her greatest moments came when, in public audience, she made known her wishes, her opinions, and her meditations163 to the world. Then the splendid sentences, following one another in a steady volubility, proclaimed the curious workings of her intellect with enthralling164 force; while the woman’s inward passion vibrated magically through the loud high uncompromising utterance165 and the perfect rhythms of her speech.
Nor was it only in her mind that these complicated contrasts were apparent; they dominated her physical being too. The tall and bony frame was subject to strange weaknesses. Rheumatisms racked her; intolerable headaches laid her prone166 in agony; a hideous ulcer167 poisoned her existence for years. Though her serious illnesses were few, a long succession of minor168 maladies, a host of morbid169 symptoms, held her contemporaries in alarmed suspense170, and have led some modern searchers to suspect that she received from her father an hereditary171 taint172. Our knowledge, both of the laws of medicine and of the actual details of her disorders173, is too limited to allow a definite conclusion; but at least it seems certain that, in spite of her prolonged and varied174 sufferings, Elizabeth was fundamentally strong. She lived to be seventy — a great age in those days — discharging to the end the laborious175 duties of government; throughout her life she was capable of unusual bodily exertion176; she hunted and danced indefatigably177; and — a significant fact, which is hardly compatible with any pronounced weakness of physique — she took a particular pleasure in standing up, so that more than one unfortunate ambassador tottered178 from her presence, after an audience of hours, bitterly complaining of his exhaustion179. Probably the solution of the riddle180 — suggested at the time by various onlookers181, and accepted by learned authorities since — was that most of her ailments182 were of an hysterical183 origin. That iron structure was a prey184 to nerves. The hazards and anxieties in which she passed her life would have been enough in themselves to shake the health of the most vigorous; but it so happened that, in Elizabeth’s case, there was a special cause for a neurotic185 condition: her sexual organisation186 was seriously warped187.
From its very beginning her emotional life had been subjected to extraordinary strains. The intensely impressionable years of her early childhood had been for her a period of excitement, terror, and tragedy. It is possible that she could just remember the day when, to celebrate the death of Katherine of Aragon, her father, dressed from top to toe in yellow, save for one white plume188 in his bonnet189, led her to Mass in a triumph of trumpets190, and then, taking her in his arms, showed her to one after another of his courtiers, in high delight. But it is also possible that her very earliest memory was of a different kind: when she was two years and eight months old, her father cut off her mother’s head. Whether remembered or no, the reactions of such an event upon her infant spirit must have been profound. The years that followed were full of trouble and dubiety. Her fate varied incessantly192 with the complex changes of her father’s politics and marriages; alternately caressed193 and neglected, she was the heir to England at one moment and a bastard194 outcast the next. And then, when the old King was dead, a new and dangerous agitation195 almost overwhelmed her. She was not yet fifteen, and was living in the house of her stepmother, Katherine Parr, who had married the Lord Admiral Seymour, brother of Somerset, the Protector. The Admiral was handsome, fascinating and reckless; he amused himself with the Princess. Bounding into her room in the early morning, he would fall upon her, while she was in her bed or just out of it, with peals196 of laughter, would seize her in his arms and tickle197 her, and slap her buttocks, and crack a ribald joke. These proceedings continued for several weeks, when Katherine Parr, getting wind of them, sent Elizabeth to live elsewhere. A few months later Katherine died, and the Admiral proposed marriage to Elizabeth. The ambitious charmer, aiming at the supreme power, hoped to strengthen himself against his brother by a union with the royal blood. His plots were discovered; he was flung into the Tower, and the Protector sought to inculpate198 Elizabeth in the conspiracy199. The agonised girl kept her head. The looks and the ways of Thomas Seymour had delighted her; but she firmly denied that she had ever contemplated200 marriage without the Protector’s consent. In a masterly letter, written in an exquisite25 hand, she rebutted201 Somerset’s charges. It was rumoured202, she told him, that she was “with child by my Lord Admiral”; this was a “shameful schandler”; and she begged to be allowed to go to Court, where all would see that it was so. The Protector found that he could do nothing with his fifteen-year-old antagonist157; but he ordered the Admiral to be beheaded.
Such were the circumstances — both horrible and singular — in which her childhood and her puberty were passed. Who can wonder that her maturity203 should have been marked by signs of nervous infirmity? No sooner was she on the throne than a strange temperamental anomaly declared itself. Since the Catholic Mary Stuart was the next heir, the Protestant cause in England hung suspended, so long as Elizabeth remained unmarried, by the feeble thread of her life. The obvious, the natural, the inevitable conclusion was that the Queen’s marriage must immediately take place. But the Queen was of a different opinion. Marriage was distasteful to her, and marry she would not. For more than twenty years, until age freed her from the controversy204, she resisted, through an incredible series of delays, ambiguities, perfidies205, and tergiversations, the incessant191 pressure of her ministers, her parliaments, and her people. Considerations of her own personal safety were of no weight with her. Her childlessness put a premium206 upon her murder; she knew it, and she smiled. The world was confounded by such unparalleled conduct. It was not as if an icy chastity possessed the heart of Elizabeth. Far from it; the very opposite seemed to be the case. Nature had implanted in her an amorousness207 so irrepressible as to be always obvious and sometimes scandalous. She was filled with delicious agitation by the glorious figures of men. Her passion for Leicester dominated her existence from the moment when her sister’s tyranny had brought them together in the Tower of London till the last hour of his life; and Leicester had virile208 beauty, and only virile beauty, to recommend him. Nor was Leicester alone in her firmament209: there were other stars which, at moments, almost outshone him. There was the stately Hatton, so comely210 in a galliard; there was handsome Heneage; there was De Vere, the dashing king of the tiltyard; there was young Blount, with “his brown hair, a sweet face, a most neat composure, and tall in his person,” and the colour that, when the eye of Majesty was fixed upon him, came and went so beautifully in his cheeks.
She loved them all; so it might be said by friends and enemies; for love is a word of questionable211 import; and over the doings of Elizabeth there hovered212 indeed a vast interrogation. Her Catholic adversaries roundly declared that she was Leicester’s mistress, and had had by him a child, who had been smuggled213 away into hiding — a story that is certainly untrue. But there were also entirely214 contrary rumours215 afloat. Ben Jonson told Drummond, at Hawthornden, after dinner, that “she had a membrana on her, which made her uncapable of man, though for her delight she tryed many.” Ben’s loose talk, of course, has no authority; it merely indicates the gossip of the time; what is more important is the considered opinion of one who had good means of discovering the truth — Feria, the Spanish ambassador. After making careful inquiries216, Feria had come to the conclusion, he told King Philip, that Elizabeth would have no children: “entiendo que ella no terna hijos,” were his words. If this was the case, or if Elizabeth believed it to be so, her refusal to marry becomes at once comprehensible. To have a husband and no child would be merely to lose her personal preponderance and gain no counterbalancing advantages; the Protestant succession would be no nearer safety, and she herself would be eternally vexed217 by a master. The crude story of a physical malformation may well have had its origin in a subtler, and yet no less vital, fact. In such matters the mind is as potent218 as the body. A deeply seated repugnance219 to the crucial act of intercourse220 may produce, when the possibility of it approaches, a condition of hysterical convulsion, accompanied, in certain cases, by intense pain. Everything points to the conclusion that such — the result of the profound psychological disturbances221 of her childhood — was the state of Elizabeth. “I hate the idea of marriage,” she told Lord Sussex, “for reasons that I would not divulge222 to a twin soul.” Yes; she hated it; but she would play with it nevertheless. Her intellectual detachment and her supreme instinct for the opportunities of political chicanery223 led her on to dangle224 the promise of her marriage before the eyes of the coveting225 world. Spain, France, and the Empire — for years she held them, lured226 by that impossible bait, in the meshes227 of her diplomacy. For years she made her mysterious organism the pivot228 upon which the fate of Europe turned. And it so happened that a contributing circumstance enabled her to give a remarkable229 verisimilitude to her game. Though, at the centre of her being, desire had turned to repulsion, it had not vanished altogether; on the contrary, the compensating230 forces of nature had redoubled its vigour elsewhere. Though the precious citadel231 itself was never to be violated, there were surrounding territories, there were outworks and bastions over which exciting battles might be fought, and which might even, at moments, be allowed to fall into the bold hands of an assailant. Inevitably, strange rumours flew. The princely suitors multiplied their assiduities; and the Virgin232 Queen alternately frowned and smiled over her secret:
The ambiguous years passed, and the time came at length when there could be no longer a purpose in marriage. But the Queen’s curious temperament remained. With the approach of old age her emotional excitements did not diminish. Perhaps, indeed, they actually increased; though here too there was a mystification. Elizabeth had been attractive as a girl; she remained for many years a handsome woman; but at last the traces of beauty were replaced by hard lines, borrowed colours, and a certain grotesque233 intensity. Yet, as her charms grew less, her insistence234 on their presence grew greater. She had been content with the devoted235 homage236 of her contemporaries; but from the young men who surrounded her in her old age she required — and received — the expressions of romantic passion. The affairs of State went on in a fandango of sighs, ecstasies237, and protestations. Her prestige, which success had made enormous, was still further magnified by this transcendental atmosphere of personal worship. Men felt, when they came near her, that they were in a superhuman presence. No reverence238 was too great for such a divinity. A splendid young nobleman — so the story went — while bowing low before her, had given vent140 to an unfortunate sound, and thereupon, such was his horrified239 embarrassment240, he had gone abroad and travelled for seven years before venturing to return to the presence of his Mistress. The policy of such a system was obvious; and yet it was by no means all policy. Her clear-sightedness, so tremendous in her dealings with outward circumstances, stopped short when she turned her eyes within. There her vision grew artificial and confused. It seemed as if, in obedience241 to a subtle instinct, she had succeeded in becoming one of the greatest of worldly realists by dint of concentrating the whole romance of her nature upon herself. The result was unusual. The wisest of rulers, obsessed242 by a preposterous243 vanity, existed in a universe that was composed entirely either of absurd, rose-tinted fantasies or the coldest and hardest of facts. There were no transitions — only opposites, juxtaposed. The extraordinary spirit was all steel one moment and all flutters the next. Once more her beauty had conquered, once more her fascinations244 had evoked245 the inevitable response. She eagerly absorbed the elaborate adorations of her lovers, and, in the same instant, by a final stroke of luck and cunning, converted them — like everything else she had anything to do with — into a paying concern.
That strange Court was the abode246 of paradox and uncertainty247. The goddess of it, moving in a nimbus of golden glory, was an old creature, fantastically dressed, still tall, though bent248, with hair dyed red above her pale visage, long blackening teeth, a high domineering nose, and eyes that were at once deep-set and starting forward — fierce, terrifying eyes, in whose dark blue depths something frantic249 lurked250 — something almost maniacal251. She passed on — the peculiar252 embodiment of a supreme energy; and Fate and Fortune went with her. When the inner door was closed, men knew that the brain behind the eyes was at work there, with the consummate253 dexterity254 of long-practised genius, upon the infinite complexities of European statecraft and the arduous255 government of a nation. From time to time a raucous256 sound was heard — a high voice, rating: an ambassador was being admonished257, an expedition to the Indies forbidden, something determined258 about the constitution of the Church of England. The indefatigable259 figure emerged at last, to leap upon a horse, to gallop260 through the glades261, and to return, well satisfied, for an hour with the virginals. After a frugal262 meal — the wing of a fowl263, washed down with a little wine and water — Gloriana danced. While the viols sounded, the young men, grouped about her, awaited what their destiny might bring forth. Sometimes the Earl was absent, and then what might not be hoped for, from that quick susceptibility, that imperious caprice? The excited deity264 would jest roughly with one and another, and would end by summoning some strong-limbed youth to talk with her in an embrasure. Her heart melted with his flatteries, and, as she struck him lightly on the neck with her long fingers, her whole being was suffused265 with a lasciviousness266 that could hardly be defined. She was a woman — ah, yes! a fascinating woman!— but then, was she not also a virgin, and old? But immediately another flood of feeling swept upwards267 and engulfed268 her; she towered; she was something more — she knew it; what was it? Was she a man? She gazed at the little beings around her, and smiled to think that, though she might be their Mistress in one sense, in another it could never be so — that the very reverse might almost be said to be the case. She had read of Hercules and Hylas, and she might have fancied herself, in some half-conscious day-dream, possessed of something of that pagan masculinity. Hylas was a page — he was before her, but her reflections were disturbed by a sudden hush269. Looking round, she saw that Essex had come in. He went swiftly towards her; and the Queen had forgotten everything, as he knelt at her feet.
收听单词发音 |
1
reign
|
|
| n.统治时期，统治，支配，盛行；v.占优势 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
accomplished
|
|
| adj.有才艺的；有造诣的；达到了的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
prudence
|
|
| n.谨慎，精明，节俭 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
supreme
|
|
| adj.极度的，最重要的；至高的，最高的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
lesser
|
|
| adj.次要的，较小的；adv.较小地，较少地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
chancellor
|
|
| n.(英)大臣；法官；(德、奥)总理；大学校长 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
wreckage
|
|
| n.（失事飞机等的）残骸，破坏，毁坏 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
germinating
|
|
| n.& adj.发芽（的）v.（使）发芽( germinate的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
intimacy
|
|
| n.熟悉，亲密，密切关系，亲昵的言行 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
exterior
|
|
| adj.外部的，外在的；表面的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
consistency
|
|
| n.一贯性，前后一致，稳定性；(液体的)浓度 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
subtlety
|
|
| n.微妙，敏锐，精巧；微妙之处，细微的区别 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
delicacy
|
|
| n.精致，细微，微妙，精良；美味，佳肴 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
brutality
|
|
| n.野蛮的行为，残忍，野蛮 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
piety
|
|
| n.虔诚，虔敬 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
lust
|
|
| n.性(淫)欲；渴(欲)望；vi.对…有强烈的欲望 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
perverse
|
|
| adj.刚愎的；坚持错误的，行为反常的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
ingenuity
|
|
| n.别出心裁；善于发明创造 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
ingenuousness
|
|
| n.率直；正直；老实 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
fabric
|
|
| n.织物，织品，布；构造，结构，组织 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
warp
|
|
| vt.弄歪，使翘曲，使不正常，歪曲，使有偏见 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
filth
|
|
| n.肮脏，污物，污秽；淫猥 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
savagery
|
|
| n.野性 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
exquisiteness
|
|
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
exquisite
|
|
| adj.精美的；敏锐的；剧烈的，感觉强烈的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
rapture
|
|
| n.狂喜；全神贯注；着迷；v.使狂喜 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
madrigal
|
|
| n.牧歌；（流行于16和17世纪无乐器伴奏的）合唱歌曲 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
lute
|
|
| n.琵琶，鲁特琴 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
tavern
|
|
| n.小旅馆，客栈；小酒店 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
flaunting
|
|
| adj.招摇的，扬扬得意的，夸耀的v.炫耀，夸耀( flaunt的现在分词 )；有什么能耐就施展出来 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
virility
|
|
| n.雄劲，丈夫气 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
delicacies
|
|
| n.棘手( delicacy的名词复数 )；精致；精美的食物；周到 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
rend
|
|
| vt.把…撕开，割裂；把…揪下来，强行夺取 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
random
|
|
| adj.随机的；任意的；n.偶然的(或随便的)行动 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
hideous
|
|
| adj.丑陋的，可憎的，可怕的，恐怖的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
pillory
|
|
| n.嘲弄；v.使受公众嘲笑；将…示众 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
embroilment
|
|
| n.搅乱，纠纷 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
platitudes
|
|
| n.平常的话，老生常谈，陈词滥调( platitude的名词复数 )；滥套子 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
confessions
|
|
| n.承认( confession的名词复数 )；自首；声明；（向神父的）忏悔 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
diversify
|
|
| v.（使）不同，（使）变得多样化 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
incongruity
|
|
| n.不协调，不一致 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
ornament
|
|
| v.装饰，美化；n.装饰，装饰物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
gauge
|
|
| v.精确计量；估计；n.标准度量；计量器 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
exuberance
|
|
| n.丰富；繁荣 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
profundities
|
|
| n.深奥，深刻，深厚( profundity的名词复数 )；堂奥 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
permeated
|
|
| 弥漫( permeate的过去式和过去分词 )； 遍布； 渗入； 渗透 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
serried
|
|
| adj.拥挤的；密集的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
complexities
|
|
| 复杂性(complexity的名词复数)； 复杂的事物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
hoop
|
|
| n.（篮球）篮圈，篮 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
swollen
|
|
| adj.肿大的，水涨的；v.使变大，肿胀 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
gilded
|
|
| a.镀金的，富有的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
portentous
|
|
| adj.不祥的，可怕的，装腔作势的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
posterity
|
|
| n.后裔，子孙，后代 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
insolence
|
|
| n.傲慢；无礼；厚颜；傲慢的态度 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
majesty
|
|
| n.雄伟，壮丽，庄严，威严；最高权威，王权 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
standing
|
|
| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
pusillanimity
|
|
| n.无气力，胆怯 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
|
58
onlooker
|
|
| n.旁观者，观众 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
59
heroism
|
|
| n.大无畏精神，英勇 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
remains
|
|
| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
61
virtue
|
|
| n.德行，美德；贞操；优点；功效，效力 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
62
dissimulation
|
|
| n.掩饰，虚伪，装糊涂 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
63
pliability
|
|
| n.柔韧性；可弯性 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
64
procrastination
|
|
| n.拖延，耽搁 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
65
parsimony
|
|
| n.过度节俭，吝啬 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
66
stint
|
|
| v.节省，限制，停止；n.舍不得化，节约，限制；连续不断的一段时间从事某件事 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
67
victuals
|
|
| n.食物；食品 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
68
sane
|
|
| adj.心智健全的，神志清醒的，明智的，稳健的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
69
maniacs
|
|
| n.疯子（maniac的复数形式） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
70
intensity
|
|
| n.强烈，剧烈；强度；烈度 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
71
inevitable
|
|
| adj.不可避免的，必然发生的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
72
prevarication
|
|
| n.支吾；搪塞；说谎；有枝有叶 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
73
factions
|
|
| 组织中的小派别，派系( faction的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
74
tortuosity
|
|
| n.扭转，曲折，弯曲 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
75
diplomacy
|
|
| n.外交；外交手腕，交际手腕 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
76
unravelled
|
|
| 解开，拆散，散开( unravel的过去式和过去分词 )； 阐明； 澄清； 弄清楚 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
77
steward
|
|
| n.乘务员，服务员；看管人；膳食管理员 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
78
proceedings
|
|
| n.进程，过程，议程；诉讼(程序)；公报 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
79
temperament
|
|
| n.气质，性格，性情 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
80
vigour
|
|
| （=vigor）n.智力，体力，精力 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
81
pertinacity
|
|
| n.执拗，顽固 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
|
82
vacillation
|
|
| n.动摇；忧柔寡断 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
83
precisely
|
|
| adv.恰好，正好，精确地，细致地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
84
fixed
|
|
| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
85
immediate
|
|
| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
86
tack
|
|
| n.大头钉；假缝，粗缝 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
87
hectically
|
|
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
|
88
possessed
|
|
| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
89
entangled
|
|
| adj.卷入的；陷入的；被缠住的；缠在一起的v.使某人（某物/自己）缠绕，纠缠于（某物中），使某人（自己）陷入（困难或复杂的环境中）( entangle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
90
inevitably
|
|
| adv.不可避免地；必然发生地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
91
shuffled
|
|
| v.洗（纸牌）( shuffle的过去式和过去分词 )；拖着脚步走；粗心地做；摆脱尘世的烦恼 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
92
shreds
|
|
| v.撕碎，切碎( shred的第三人称单数 )；用撕毁机撕毁（文件） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
93
decency
|
|
| n.体面，得体，合宜，正派，庄重 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
94
appalling
|
|
| adj.骇人听闻的，令人震惊的，可怕的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
95
paradox
|
|
| n.似乎矛盾却正确的说法；自相矛盾的人(物) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
96
persistence
|
|
| n.坚持，持续，存留 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
97
distressed
|
|
| 痛苦的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
98
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： |
|
|
|
|
99
hesitations
|
|
| n.犹豫( hesitation的名词复数 )；踌躇；犹豫（之事或行为）；口吃 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
100
chicaneries
|
|
| n.耍花招哄骗别人（尤指于法律事务中）( chicanery的名词复数 )；不诚实的行为；欺骗 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
|
101
forth
|
|
| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
102
frankly
|
|
| adv.坦白地，直率地；坦率地说 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
103
secular
|
|
| n.牧师，凡人；adj.世俗的，现世的，不朽的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
104
renaissance
|
|
| n.复活，复兴，文艺复兴 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
105
civilisation
|
|
| n.文明，文化，开化，教化 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
106
antithesis
|
|
| n.对立；相对 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
107
disposition
|
|
| n.性情，性格；意向，倾向；排列，部署 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
108
sentimental
|
|
| adj.多愁善感的，感伤的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
109
wastefulness
|
|
| 浪费，挥霍，耗费 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
110
thrift
|
|
| adj.节约，节俭；n.节俭，节约 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
111
hordes
|
|
| n.移动着的一大群( horde的名词复数 )；部落 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
112
dint
|
|
| n.由于，靠；凹坑 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
113
collapses
|
|
| 折叠( collapse的第三人称单数 )； 倒塌； 崩溃； （尤指工作劳累后）坐下 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
114
postponement
|
|
| n.推迟 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
115
adversaries
|
|
| n.对手，敌手( adversary的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
116
pendulum
|
|
| n.摆，钟摆 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
117
socket
|
|
| n.窝，穴，孔，插座，插口 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
118
crafty
|
|
| adj.狡猾的，诡诈的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
119
irresolute
|
|
| adj.无决断的，优柔寡断的，踌躇不定的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
120
timorous
|
|
| adj.胆怯的，胆小的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
121
whine
|
|
| v.哀号，号哭；n.哀鸣 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
122
virulent
|
|
| adj.有毒的，有恶意的，充满敌意的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
123
doom
|
|
| n.厄运，劫数；v.注定，命定 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
124
undoubtedly
|
|
| adv.确实地，无疑地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
125
sinister
|
|
| adj.不吉利的，凶恶的，左边的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
126
extraordinarily
|
|
| adv.格外地；极端地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
127
veins
|
|
| n.纹理；矿脉( vein的名词复数 )；静脉；叶脉；纹理 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
128
infinitely
|
|
| adv.无限地，无穷地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
129
humane
|
|
| adj.人道的，富有同情心的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
130
vitality
|
|
| n.活力，生命力，效力 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
131
unity
|
|
| n.团结，联合，统一；和睦，协调 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
132
bristled
|
|
| adj. 直立的，多刺毛的 动词bristle的过去式和过去分词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
133
delightful
|
|
| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
134
spat
|
|
| n.口角，掌击；v.发出呼噜呼噜声 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
135
softened
|
|
| （使）变软( soften的过去式和过去分词 )； 缓解打击； 缓和； 安慰 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
136
buoyed
|
|
| v.使浮起( buoy的过去式和过去分词 )；支持；为…设浮标；振奋…的精神 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
137
zigzags
|
|
| n.锯齿形的线条、小径等( zigzag的名词复数 )v.弯弯曲曲地走路，曲折地前进( zigzag的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
138
stimulus
|
|
| n.刺激，刺激物，促进因素，引起兴奋的事物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
139
folly
|
|
| n.愚笨，愚蠢，蠢事，蠢行，傻话 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
140
vent
|
|
| n.通风口，排放口；开衩；vt.表达，发泄 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
141
vivacity
|
|
| n.快活，活泼，精神充沛 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
142
awareness
|
|
| n.意识，觉悟，懂事，明智 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
143
relishing
|
|
| v.欣赏( relish的现在分词 )；从…获得乐趣；渴望 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
144
aphorisms
|
|
| 格言，警句( aphorism的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
145
dame
|
|
| n.女士 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
146
dictating
|
|
| v.大声讲或读( dictate的现在分词 )；口授；支配；摆布 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
147
minutiae
|
|
| n.微小的细节，细枝末节；（常复数）细节，小事( minutia的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
148
accomplishments
|
|
| n.造诣；完成( accomplishment的名词复数 )；技能；成绩；成就 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
149
calligraphist
|
|
| n.书法家 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
|
150
connoisseur
|
|
| n.鉴赏家，行家，内行 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
151
elegance
|
|
| n.优雅；优美，雅致；精致，巧妙 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
152
versatility
|
|
| n.多才多艺，多样性，多功能 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
153
protean
|
|
| adj.反复无常的；变化自如的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
154
sinuous
|
|
| adj.蜿蜒的，迂回的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
155
perplexed
|
|
| adj.不知所措的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
156
antagonists
|
|
| 对立[对抗] 者，对手，敌手( antagonist的名词复数 )； 对抗肌； 对抗药 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
157
antagonist
|
|
| n.敌人，对抗者，对手 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
158
deluded
|
|
| v.欺骗，哄骗( delude的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
159
wary
|
|
| adj.谨慎的，机警的，小心的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
160
virtuosity
|
|
| n.精湛技巧 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
161
ambiguities
|
|
| n.歧义( ambiguity的名词复数 )；意义不明确；模棱两可的意思；模棱两可的话 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
162
felicitous
|
|
| adj.恰当的，巧妙的；n.恰当，贴切 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
163
meditations
|
|
| 默想( meditation的名词复数 )； 默念； 沉思； 冥想 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
164
enthralling
|
|
| 迷人的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
165
utterance
|
|
| n.用言语表达，话语，言语 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
166
prone
|
|
| adj.(to)易于…的，很可能…的；俯卧的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
167
ulcer
|
|
| n.溃疡，腐坏物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
168
minor
|
|
| adj.较小(少)的，较次要的；n.辅修学科；vi.辅修 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
169
morbid
|
|
| adj.病的；致病的；病态的；可怕的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
170
suspense
|
|
| n.（对可能发生的事）紧张感，担心，挂虑 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
171
hereditary
|
|
| adj.遗传的，遗传性的，可继承的，世袭的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
172
taint
|
|
| n.污点；感染；腐坏；v.使感染；污染 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
173
disorders
|
|
| n.混乱( disorder的名词复数 )；凌乱；骚乱；（身心、机能）失调 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
174
varied
|
|
| adj.多样的，多变化的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
175
laborious
|
|
| adj.吃力的，努力的，不流畅 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
176
exertion
|
|
| n.尽力，努力 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
177
indefatigably
|
|
| adv.不厌倦地，不屈不挠地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
178
tottered
|
|
| v.走得或动得不稳( totter的过去式和过去分词 )；踉跄；蹒跚；摇摇欲坠 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
179
exhaustion
|
|
| n.耗尽枯竭，疲惫，筋疲力尽，竭尽，详尽无遗的论述 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
180
riddle
|
|
| n.谜，谜语，粗筛；vt.解谜，给…出谜，筛，检查，鉴定，非难，充满于；vi.出谜 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
181
onlookers
|
|
| n.旁观者，观看者( onlooker的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
182
ailments
|
|
| 疾病（尤指慢性病），不适( ailment的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
183
hysterical
|
|
| adj.情绪异常激动的，歇斯底里般的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
184
prey
|
|
| n.被掠食者，牺牲者，掠食；v.捕食，掠夺，折磨 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
185
neurotic
|
|
| adj.神经病的，神经过敏的；n.神经过敏者，神经病患者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
186
organisation
|
|
| n.组织，安排，团体，有机休 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
187
warped
|
|
| adj.反常的；乖戾的；（变）弯曲的；变形的v.弄弯，变歪( warp的过去式和过去分词 )；使（行为等）不合情理，使乖戾， | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
188
plume
|
|
| n.羽毛；v.整理羽毛，骚首弄姿，用羽毛装饰 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
189
bonnet
|
|
| n.无边女帽；童帽 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
190
trumpets
|
|
| 喇叭( trumpet的名词复数 )； 小号； 喇叭形物； （尤指）绽开的水仙花 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
191
incessant
|
|
| adj.不停的，连续的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
192
incessantly
|
|
| ad.不停地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
193
caressed
|
|
| 爱抚或抚摸…( caress的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
194
bastard
|
|
| n.坏蛋，混蛋；私生子 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
195
agitation
|
|
| n.搅动；搅拌；鼓动，煽动 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
196
peals
|
|
| n.（声音大而持续或重复的）洪亮的响声( peal的名词复数 )；隆隆声；洪亮的钟声；钟乐v.（使）（钟等）鸣响，（雷等）发出隆隆声( peal的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
197
tickle
|
|
| v.搔痒，胳肢；使高兴；发痒；n.搔痒，发痒 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
198
inculpate
|
|
| v.使负罪；控告；使连累 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
199
conspiracy
|
|
| n.阴谋，密谋，共谋 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
200
contemplated
|
|
| adj. 预期的 动词contemplate的过去分词形式 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
201
rebutted
|
|
| v.反驳，驳回( rebut的过去式和过去分词 )；击退 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
202
rumoured
|
|
| adj.谣传的；传说的；风 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
203
maturity
|
|
| n.成熟；完成；(支票、债券等)到期 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
204
controversy
|
|
| n.争论，辩论，争吵 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
205
perfidies
|
|
| n.背信弃义，背叛，出卖( perfidy的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
|
206
premium
|
|
| n.加付款；赠品；adj.高级的；售价高的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
207
amorousness
|
|
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
208
virile
|
|
| adj.男性的；有男性生殖力的；有男子气概的；强有力的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
209
firmament
|
|
| n.苍穹；最高层 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
210
comely
|
|
| adj.漂亮的，合宜的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
211
questionable
|
|
| adj.可疑的，有问题的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
212
hovered
|
|
| 鸟( hover的过去式和过去分词 )； 靠近（某事物）； （人）徘徊； 犹豫 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
213
smuggled
|
|
| 水货 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
214
entirely
|
|
| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
215
rumours
|
|
| n.传闻( rumour的名词复数 )；风闻；谣言；谣传 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
216
inquiries
|
|
| n.调查( inquiry的名词复数 )；疑问；探究；打听 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
217
vexed
|
|
| adj.争论不休的；（指问题等）棘手的；争论不休的问题；烦恼的v.使烦恼( vex的过去式和过去分词 )；使苦恼；使生气；详细讨论 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
218
potent
|
|
| adj.强有力的，有权势的；有效力的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
219
repugnance
|
|
| n.嫌恶 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
220
intercourse
|
|
| n.性交；交流，交往，交际 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
221
disturbances
|
|
| n.骚乱( disturbance的名词复数 )；打扰；困扰；障碍 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
222
divulge
|
|
| v.泄漏(秘密等)；宣布，公布 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
223
chicanery
|
|
| n.欺诈，欺骗 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
224
dangle
|
|
| v.(使)悬荡，(使)悬垂 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
225
coveting
|
|
| v.贪求，觊觎( covet的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
226
lured
|
|
| 吸引，引诱（lure的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
227
meshes
|
|
| 网孔( mesh的名词复数 )； 网状物； 陷阱； 困境 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
228
pivot
|
|
| v.在枢轴上转动；装枢轴，枢轴；adj.枢轴的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
229
remarkable
|
|
| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
230
compensating
|
|
| 补偿，补助，修正 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
231
citadel
|
|
| n.城堡；堡垒；避难所 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
232
virgin
|
|
| n.处女，未婚女子；adj.未经使用的；未经开发的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
233
grotesque
|
|
| adj.怪诞的，丑陋的；n.怪诞的图案，怪人（物） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
234
insistence
|
|
| n.坚持；强调；坚决主张 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
235
devoted
|
|
| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
236
homage
|
|
| n.尊敬，敬意，崇敬 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
237
ecstasies
|
|
| 狂喜( ecstasy的名词复数 )； 出神； 入迷； 迷幻药 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
238
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： |
|
|
|
|
239
horrified
|
|
| a.(表现出)恐惧的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
240
embarrassment
|
|
| n.尴尬；使人为难的人(事物)；障碍；窘迫 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
241
obedience
|
|
| n.服从，顺从 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
242
obsessed
|
|
| adj.心神不宁的,鬼迷心窍的,沉迷的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
243
preposterous
|
|
| adj.荒谬的，可笑的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
244
fascinations
|
|
| n.魅力( fascination的名词复数 )；有魅力的东西；迷恋；陶醉 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
245
evoked
|
|
| [医]诱发的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
246
abode
|
|
| n.住处，住所 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
247
uncertainty
|
|
| n.易变，靠不住，不确知，不确定的事物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
248
bent
|
|
| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
249
frantic
|
|
| adj.狂乱的，错乱的，激昂的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
250
lurked
|
|
| vi.潜伏，埋伏（lurk的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
251
maniacal
|
|
| adj.发疯的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
252
peculiar
|
|
| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
253
consummate
|
|
| adj.完美的；v.成婚；使完美 [反]baffle | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
254
dexterity
|
|
| n.(手的)灵巧，灵活 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
255
arduous
|
|
| adj.艰苦的，费力的，陡峭的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
256
raucous
|
|
| adj.(声音)沙哑的，粗糙的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
257
admonished
|
|
| v.劝告( admonish的过去式和过去分词 )；训诫；（温和地）责备；轻责 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
258
determined
|
|
| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
259
indefatigable
|
|
| adj.不知疲倦的，不屈不挠的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
260
gallop
|
|
| v./n.(马或骑马等)飞奔；飞速发展 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
261
glades
|
|
| n.林中空地( glade的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
262
frugal
|
|
| adj.节俭的，节约的，少量的，微量的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
263
fowl
|
|
| n.家禽，鸡，禽肉 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
264
deity
|
|
| n.神，神性；被奉若神明的人(或物) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
265
suffused
|
|
| v.（指颜色、水气等）弥漫于，布满( suffuse的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
266
lasciviousness
|
|
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
|
267
upwards
|
|
| adv.向上，在更高处...以上 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
268
engulfed
|
|
| v.吞没，包住( engulf的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
269
hush
|
|
| int.嘘，别出声；n.沉默，静寂；v.使安静 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |