The Spanish question grew ever more acute. A war that was no war might exactly suit the temper of Elizabeth; but it seemed an infamy1 to Essex, and was no less distasteful to Henry of France, pressed hard by the Spaniards on his northern frontier and by the Catholic Leaguers in his own dominions2. The French king and the English peer came together in a curious combination. Their joint3 object was to propel Elizabeth into an alliance with France, which would involve the active participation4 of England in an attack on the Spaniards. Between them flew, backwards5 and forwards, uniting and enflaming their energies, the stormy petrel, Antonio Perez, in whom a frantic6 hatred7 of King Philip had become the very breath of life.
A few years earlier Perez had fled from Spain in the wildest circumstances. Philip’s principal Secretary of State, he had quarrelled with his master over a murder, had taken refuge in his native town of Saragossa, and had there, at the King’s instigation, been seized by the Inquisition. His fate seemed certain; but unexpected forces came to his rescue, and Perez lives in history as the one man who, having once fallen into the clutches of the Holy Office, escaped with a whole skin. The charges against him were, indeed, highly serious. Exasperated8 in a dungeon9, the misguided secretary had allowed himself, in his ravings, to insult not only the King but the Deity10. “God sleeps! God sleeps!” he had exclaimed, and his words had been heard and noted11. “This proposition,” the official report declared, “is heretical, as if God had no care for human beings, when the Bible and the Church affirm that He does care.” That was bad enough, but worse followed. “If it is God the Father,” said the miscreant12, “who has allowed the King to behave so disloyally towards me, I’ll pull God the Father’s nose!” “This proposition,” said the official report, “is blasphemous13, scandalous, offensive to pious14 ears, and savouring of the heresy15 of the Vaudois, who affirmed that God was corporeal16 and had human members. Nor is it an excuse to say that Christ, being made man, had a nose, since the words were spoken of the First Person of the Trinity.” The stake was the obvious retribution for such wickedness, and the proper preparations were being made when the people of Saragossa suddenly rose in arms. The ancient liberties of Aragon, its immemorial rights of jurisdiction17, were being infringed18, they asserted, by the King and the Holy Office. They invaded the prison, beat to death the royal governor, and set Perez free. He escaped to France; but his safety proved expensive to Saragossa. For soon afterwards the King’s army appeared upon the scene, and the ancient liberties of Aragon were finally abolished, while seventy-nine of the popular party were burnt alive in the marketplace, the ceremony beginning at eight in the morning and ending at nine in the evening, by torchlight.
The hectic19 hero of this affair was now leading the life of an exile and an intriguer21. He was obviously a rogue22, but he might, for the moment at any rate, be a useful rogue; and on that footing he had won his way into the good graces of Essex and Henry. He was active and unscrupulous; he was full of stories that were infinitely23 discreditable to the King of Spain, and he was master of an epistolary style of Euphuistic Latin which precisely24 hit off the taste of the great ones of that generation. How delightful25 to weave plots, change policies, and direct the fate of Europe in learned antitheses26 and elegant classical allusions27!
When the conclave28 at Essex House judged that the time was ripe, a letter was despatched from the Earl to Perez, hinting that, if Henry really wished for Elizabeth’s alliance, his best course was to threaten to make peace himself with Spain. If Juno was France and Philip the King of the Underworld, was not the conclusion clear? For who was so ignorant as not to know that Juno, when she had implored29 for help many times and in vain, had at last burst out with —“Flectere si nequeo superos, Acheronta movebo”? “But silence, my pen! And silence Antonio! For methinks I have read the poets too much.”1
Perez at once showed the letter to Henry, who was not slow to catch its drift. Taking the advice of his English friend, he despatched a special envoy30 to Elizabeth, with instructions to inform her that he had received favourable31 offers of peace from Spain, and was inclined to accept them. Elizabeth was apparently32 unmoved by this intelligence; she wrote a letter of expostulation to Henry, but she was unable, she declared, to give him further help; yet she was secretly uneasy, and soon afterwards despatched, on her side, a special envoy to France, who was to discover and report to her the real inclinations33 of the King.
This envoy was Sir Henry Unton, one of those remarkable34 ambassadors who divided their allegiance between the Government and Essex House. He went to France armed with the instructions, not only of Elizabeth, but of Anthony Bacon. A letter exists in which Unton is directed, with minute detail, to inform the French King that he must hold firm; in which he is told so to arrange matters as to be received with public coldness by Henry; and to “send us thundering letters, whereby he must drive us to propound35 and to offer.” Unton did as he was bid, and the thundering letters duly arrived. At the same time, Perez had been ordered to write to the Earl “such a letter as may be showed, wherein he shall say that the sending of Unton hath made all things worse than ever.” Perez too was all obedience36; he sent off, in elaborate Latin, a report of Henry’s asseverations in favour of peace; he himself, he added, could not understand the policy of the English Government; but perhaps there was some mystery that was unrevealed —“the designs of Princes are a deep abyss.”2
It was perfectly38 true. All the letters were shown to the Queen, who read them carefully through, with a particular relish39 for the latinity of Perez. But the result of this extraordinary intrigue20 was not at all what might have been expected. Perhaps Elizabeth had smelt40 a rat. However that may be, she calmly wrote to Henry that she was very ready to help him against Spain with men and money — on one condition: that he should give into her keeping the town of Calais. The charming proposal was not well received. “I had as lief be bitten by a dog as scratched by a cat,” exclaimed the infuriated Béarnais. But in a few weeks he found that he had spoken more truly than he thought. A Spanish army advanced from Flanders, laid siege to Calais, and stormed the outworks of the town. The roar of the besieging41 guns could be distinctly heard — so Camden tells us — in the royal palace at Greenwich.
Elizabeth did not like that. Not only was the noise disturbing, but the presence of the Spaniards in a port commanding the narrow seas would be distinctly inconvenient42. The next news was that the town of Calais had fallen, but that the citadel43 still held out. Something might yet be done, and a hasty levy44 of men was raised in London, and sent down with all speed, under the command of Essex, to Dover. With luck, the French might be relieved and the situation saved; but it suddenly occurred to Elizabeth that, with luck also, the French might relieve themselves, and that in any case the whole thing was too expensive. Accordingly, when the troops were actually on board, a courier galloped45 down to the shore with a letter from the Queen countermanding46 the expedition. Essex raved47 and implored with his usual energy; but, while the messengers were posting to and fro between Dover and London, the Spaniards took the citadel, (April 14th, 1596).
This was too much, even for the hesitancy of Elizabeth. She could not conceal48 from herself that, in this instance, at any rate, she had failed; that the beautiful negation49, which was the grand object of all her policy, had eluded50 her; that, in fact, something had actually occurred. She was very angry, but the necessity for some sort of action on her own part gradually forced itself upon her; and for the first time she began to listen seriously to the suggestions of the war party.
There were two possibilities of attack. A really effective army might be sent to France which would be strong enough to enable Henry to deal with the Spaniards. This was the course that Perez, accompanied by the Duc de Bouillon, was immediately despatched across the Channel to urge, with all the fury of his eloquence51, upon Elizabeth. But when the emissaries arrived they found to their astonishment52 that the wind had changed in England. Another project was on foot. For months a rebellion had been simmering in Ireland, and there was reason to believe that Philip was busy fitting out an expedition to give succour to his Catholic friends. It was now proposed to forestall53 his offensive by delivering a naval54 attack upon Spain. Essex was suddenly converted to the plan. Throwing over Henry and Perez with gay insouciance55, he pressed upon the Queen the formation of a powerful armament to be sent not to Calais, but to Cadiz. Elizabeth consented. She appointed Essex and the Lord Admiral Howard of Effingham joint commanders of the force; and, within a fortnight of the fall of Calais, the Earl was in Plymouth, collecting together in feverish56 energy an army and a fleet.
Elizabeth had consented; but, in the absence of Essex, the suggestions of Perez sounded sweetly in her ear. She began wavering once again. Perhaps, after all, it would be wiser to help the French King; and surely it would be dangerous to send off the fleet on a wild-cat expedition — the fleet, which was her one protection against a Spanish invasion. The news of her waverings reached Essex, and filled him with agitation57. He knew too well the temper of his mistress. “The Queen,” he wrote, “wrangles with our action for no cause but because it is in hand. If this force were going to France, she would then fear as much the issue there as she doth our intended journey. I know I shall never do her service but against her will.” He had racked his wits, he added, to bring her to agree to the expedition, and if it fell through now he swore he would “become a monk58 upon an hour’s warning.”
Certainly, it was touch and go. The next news was that an offensive and defensive59 league had been concluded with France; and a few days later the Queen wrote a letter to the two Lord Generals at Plymouth, which seemed to portend60 yet another change of policy. They were ordered to put the expedition under the command of some inferior officers, and to return themselves to the royal presence —“they being so dear unto her and such persons of note, as she could not allow of their going.” The Court was in a ferment61. As the terrible moment of decision approached, Elizabeth’s mind span round like a teetotum. She was filled with exasperation62 and rage. She thundered against Essex, who, she said, was forcing her to do this thing against her will. The oldest courtiers were appalled63, and Burghley, with trembling arguments and venerable aphorisms64, sought in vain to appease65 her. The situation was complicated by the reappearance of Walter Raleigh. He had returned from Guiana, more exuberant66 and formidable than ever, with endless tales of wealth and adventure, and had been received with something like forgiveness by the Queen. Was it possible that the recall of Essex and Howard would be followed by the appointment of Raleigh to the supreme67 command? But the expedition itself, even if it was sanctioned, and whoever commanded it, might never start, for the difficulties in the way of its preparation were very great, there was a shortage of men, of money, of munitions68, and it almost looked as if the armament would only be ready when it was too late to be of any use. Confusion reigned69; anything might happen; then, all at once, the fog rolled off, and certainty emerged. Elizabeth, as was her wont70, after being buffeted71 for so long and in so incredible a fashion by a sea of doubts, found herself firmly planted on dry land. The expedition was to go — and immediately; Essex and Howard were reinstated, while Raleigh was given a high, though subordinate, command. The new orientation72 of English policy was signalised in a curious manner — by the degradation73 of Antonio Perez. The poor man was no longer received at Court; he took no part in the final stages of the French treaty; the Cecils would not speak to him; he sought refuge in desperation with Anthony Bacon, and Anthony Bacon was barely polite. His life of vertiginous74 intrigue suddenly collapsed75. Back in France again he was looked upon with coldness, with faint animosity. He faded, dwindled76, and sank; and when, years later, worn out with age and poverty, he expired in a Parisian garret, the Holy Office may well have felt that the sufferings of the enemy who had escaped its vengeance77 must have been, after all, almost enough.
In the midst of his agitations78 at Plymouth, Essex had received a letter from Francis Bacon. The Lord Keeper Puckering79 had died; Egerton, the Master of the Rolls, had been appointed to succeed him; and Bacon now hoped for Egerton’s place. He wrote to ask for the Earl’s good offices, and his request was immediately granted. Pressed and harassed80 on every side by the labours of military organisation81, by doubts of the Queen’s intentions, by anxieties over his own position, Essex found the time and the energy to write three letters to the leaders of the Bar, pressing upon them, with tactful earnestness, the claims of his friend. Francis was duly grateful. “This accumulating,” he wrote, “of your Lordship’s favours upon me hitherto worketh only this effect: that it raiseth my mind to aspire83 to be found worthy84 of them, and likewise to merit and serve you for them.” But whether, he added, “I shall be able to pay my vows85 or no, I must leave that to God, who hath them in deposito.”
Among all the confusions that surrounded the departure of the expedition, not the least disturbing were those caused by the antagonism86 of the two commanders. Essex and Lord Howard were at loggerheads. They bickered87 over everything, from the rival claims of the army and the navy to their own places in the table of precedence. Howard was Lord Admiral, but Essex was an Earl; which was the higher? When a joint letter to the Queen was brought for their signature, Essex, snatching a pen, got in his name at the top, so that Howard was obliged to follow with his underneath88. But he bided89 his time — until his rival’s back was turned; then, with a pen-knife, he cut out the offending signature; and in that strange condition the missive reached Elizabeth.
Everything was ready at last; it was time to say farewell. The Queen, shut up in her chamber90, was busy with literary composition. The results of her labour were entrusted91 to Fulke Greville, who rode down with the final despatches to Plymouth and handed them to Essex. There was a stately private letter from the Queen to the General:— “I make this humble92 bill of requests to Him that all makes and does, that with His benign93 hand He will shadow you so, as all harm may light beside you, and all that may be best hap37 to your share; that your return may make you better and me gladder.” There was a friendly note from Robert Cecil, with a last gay message from Elizabeth. “The Queen says, because you are poor she sends you five shillings.” And, in addition, there was a royal prayer, to be read aloud to the assembled forces, for the success of the expedition. “Most omnipotent94 and guider of all our world’s mass! that only searchest and fathomest the bottoms of all hearts and conceits95, and in them seest the true original of all actions intended . . . Thou, that diddest inspire the mind, we humbly96 beseech97, with bended knees, prosper98 the work and with best forewinds guide the journey, speed the victory, and make the return the advancement99 of thy fame and surety to the realm, with least loss of English blood. To these devout100 petitions, Lord, give thou thy blessed grant! Amen.”
The words, addressed by one potentate101 to another, with such a diplomatic mixture of flattering devotion and ornate self-confidence, were, apparently, exactly what were required. At any rate, the expedition was crowned with success. The secret of its purpose was well kept, and one day towards the end of June, 1596, the English armament suddenly appeared in the bay of Cadiz. At the first moment, an injudicious decision might have led to a disaster; the commanders had ordered a hazardous102 assault to be made by land; and it was only with difficulty that Raleigh persuaded them to change their plan, and attack on the water. After that, all went swimmingly. “Entramos! Entramos!” shouted Essex, flinging his hat into the sea, as his ship sailed into the harbour. Within fourteen hours all was over. The Spanish fleet was destroyed, and the town, with all its strength and riches, in the hands of the English. Among the Spaniards the disorganisation was complete; panic and folly103 had seized upon them. By a curious chance the Duke of Medina Sidonia was Governor of Andalusia. As if it were not enough to have led the Armada to its doom104, it was now reserved for him to preside over the destruction of the most flourishing city of Spain. He hurried to the scene of action, wringing105 his hands in querulous despair. “This is shameful,” he wrote to King Philip. “I told your Majesty106 how necessary it was to send me men and money, and I have never even received an answer. So now I am at my wit’s end.” He was indeed. The West Indian fleet of fifty merchantmen, laden107 with treasure worth eight million crowns, had fled into an inner harbour, where it lay, in helpless confusion, awaiting its fate. Essex had ordered it to be seized, but there were delays among subordinates, and the unhappy Duke saw what must be done. He instantly gave commands; the whole fleet was set on fire; a faint smile, the first in seven years, was seen to flit across the face of Medina Sidonia. At last, in that intolerable mass of blazing ruin, he had got the better of his enemies.
While the honours of the sea-fight went to Raleigh, Essex was the hero on shore. He had led the assault on the city; his dash and bravery had carried all before them; and, when the victory was won, his humanity had put a speedy end to the excesses that were usual on such occasions. Priests and churches were spared; and three thousand nuns108 were transported to the mainland with the utmost politeness. The Spaniards themselves were in ecstasies109 over the chivalry110 of the heretic General. “Tan hidalgo,” said Philip, “non ha vista111 entre herejes.” The Lord Admiral himself was carried away with admiration112. “I assure you,” he wrote to Burghley, “there is not a braver man in the world than the Earl is; and I protest, in my poor judgment113, a great soldier, for what he doth is in great order and discipline performed.”
The English occupied Cadiz for a fortnight. Essex proposed that they should fortify114 the town and remain there until the Queen’s pleasure was known. When this was disallowed115 by the Council of War, he suggested a march into the interior of Spain; and, on this also being negatived, he urged that the fleet should put out to sea, lie in wait for the returning West Indian treasure-ships, and seize the vast booty they were bringing home. Once more he met with no support. It was decided116 to return to England immediately. A great ransom117 was raised from the inhabitants of Cadiz, the town was dismantled118 and destroyed, and the English sailed away. As they coasted back along the shores of Portugal, they could not resist a raid upon the unlucky town of Faro. The plunder119 was considerable, and it included one unexpected item — the priceless library of Bishop120 Jerome Osorius. The spectacle of so many marvellous volumes rejoiced the heart of the literary General; and he reserved them for himself, as his share of the loot. Yet, perhaps, he hardly glanced at them. Perhaps, as he sailed victoriously121 towards England, his wayward mind sank unexpectedly into an utterly122 incongruous mood. To be away from all this — and for ever! Away from the glory and the struggle — to be back at home, a boy again at Chartley — to escape irrevocably into the prolonged innocence123 of solitude124 and insignificance125 and dreams! With a play upon his own name — half smiling, half melancholy126 — he wrote some lines in which memory and premonition came together to give a strange pathos127 to the simple words:—
Happy were he could finish forth128 his fate
In some unhaunted desert, where, obscure
From all society, from love and hate
Of wordly folk, there should he sleep secure;
Then wake again, and yield God ever praise;
Content with hip82, with haws, and brambleberry;
In contemplation passing still his days,
And change of holy thoughts to keep him merry:
Who, when he dies, his tomb might be the bush
Where harmless Robin129 resteth with the thrush:
- Happy were he!
1 infamy | |
n.声名狼藉,出丑,恶行 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
2 dominions | |
统治权( dominion的名词复数 ); 领土; 疆土; 版图 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
3 joint | |
adj.联合的,共同的;n.关节,接合处;v.连接,贴合 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
4 participation | |
n.参与,参加,分享 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
5 backwards | |
adv.往回地,向原处,倒,相反,前后倒置地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
6 frantic | |
adj.狂乱的,错乱的,激昂的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
7 hatred | |
n.憎恶,憎恨,仇恨 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
8 exasperated | |
adj.恼怒的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
9 dungeon | |
n.地牢,土牢 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
10 deity | |
n.神,神性;被奉若神明的人(或物) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
11 noted | |
adj.著名的,知名的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
12 miscreant | |
n.恶棍 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
13 blasphemous | |
adj.亵渎神明的,不敬神的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
14 pious | |
adj.虔诚的;道貌岸然的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
15 heresy | |
n.异端邪说;异教 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
16 corporeal | |
adj.肉体的,身体的;物质的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
17 jurisdiction | |
n.司法权,审判权,管辖权,控制权 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
18 infringed | |
v.违反(规章等)( infringe的过去式和过去分词 );侵犯(某人的权利);侵害(某人的自由、权益等) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
19 hectic | |
adj.肺病的;消耗热的;发热的;闹哄哄的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
20 intrigue | |
vt.激起兴趣,迷住;vi.耍阴谋;n.阴谋,密谋 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
21 intriguer | |
密谋者 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
22 rogue | |
n.流氓;v.游手好闲 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
23 infinitely | |
adv.无限地,无穷地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
24 precisely | |
adv.恰好,正好,精确地,细致地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
25 delightful | |
adj.令人高兴的,使人快乐的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
26 antitheses | |
n.对照,对立的,对比法;对立( antithesis的名词复数 );对立面;对照;对偶 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
27 allusions | |
暗指,间接提到( allusion的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
28 conclave | |
n.秘密会议,红衣主教团 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
29 implored | |
恳求或乞求(某人)( implore的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
30 envoy | |
n.使节,使者,代表,公使 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
31 favourable | |
adj.赞成的,称赞的,有利的,良好的,顺利的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
32 apparently | |
adv.显然地;表面上,似乎 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
33 inclinations | |
倾向( inclination的名词复数 ); 倾斜; 爱好; 斜坡 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
34 remarkable | |
adj.显著的,异常的,非凡的,值得注意的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
35 propound | |
v.提出 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
36 obedience | |
n.服从,顺从 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
37 hap | |
n.运气;v.偶然发生 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
38 perfectly | |
adv.完美地,无可非议地,彻底地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
39 relish | |
n.滋味,享受,爱好,调味品;vt.加调味料,享受,品味;vi.有滋味 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
40 smelt | |
v.熔解,熔炼;n.银白鱼,胡瓜鱼 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
41 besieging | |
包围,围困,围攻( besiege的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
42 inconvenient | |
adj.不方便的,令人感到麻烦的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
43 citadel | |
n.城堡;堡垒;避难所 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
44 levy | |
n.征收税或其他款项,征收额 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
45 galloped | |
(使马)飞奔,奔驰( gallop的过去式和过去分词 ); 快速做[说]某事 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
46 countermanding | |
v.取消(命令),撤回( countermand的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
47 raved | |
v.胡言乱语( rave的过去式和过去分词 );愤怒地说;咆哮;痴心地说 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
48 conceal | |
v.隐藏,隐瞒,隐蔽 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
49 negation | |
n.否定;否认 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
50 eluded | |
v.(尤指机敏地)避开( elude的过去式和过去分词 );逃避;躲避;使达不到 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
51 eloquence | |
n.雄辩;口才,修辞 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
52 astonishment | |
n.惊奇,惊异 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
53 forestall | |
vt.抢在…之前采取行动;预先阻止 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
54 naval | |
adj.海军的,军舰的,船的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
55 insouciance | |
n.漠不关心 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
56 feverish | |
adj.发烧的,狂热的,兴奋的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
57 agitation | |
n.搅动;搅拌;鼓动,煽动 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
58 monk | |
n.和尚,僧侣,修道士 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
59 defensive | |
adj.防御的;防卫的;防守的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
60 portend | |
v.预兆,预示;给…以警告 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
61 ferment | |
vt.使发酵;n./vt.(使)激动,(使)动乱 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
62 exasperation | |
n.愤慨 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
63 appalled | |
v.使惊骇,使充满恐惧( appall的过去式和过去分词)adj.惊骇的;丧胆的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
64 aphorisms | |
格言,警句( aphorism的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
65 appease | |
v.安抚,缓和,平息,满足 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
66 exuberant | |
adj.充满活力的;(植物)繁茂的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
67 supreme | |
adj.极度的,最重要的;至高的,最高的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
68 munitions | |
n.军火,弹药;v.供应…军需品 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
69 reigned | |
vi.当政,统治(reign的过去式形式) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
70 wont | |
adj.习惯于;v.习惯;n.习惯 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
71 buffeted | |
反复敲打( buffet的过去式和过去分词 ); 连续猛击; 打来打去; 推来搡去 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
72 orientation | |
n.方向,目标;熟悉,适应,情况介绍 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
73 degradation | |
n.降级;低落;退化;陵削;降解;衰变 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
74 vertiginous | |
adj.回旋的;引起头晕的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
75 collapsed | |
adj.倒塌的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
76 dwindled | |
v.逐渐变少或变小( dwindle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
77 vengeance | |
n.报复,报仇,复仇 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
78 agitations | |
(液体等的)摇动( agitation的名词复数 ); 鼓动; 激烈争论; (情绪等的)纷乱 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
79 puckering | |
v.(使某物)起褶子或皱纹( pucker的现在分词 );小褶纹;小褶皱 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
80 harassed | |
adj. 疲倦的,厌烦的 动词harass的过去式和过去分词 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
81 organisation | |
n.组织,安排,团体,有机休 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
82 hip | |
n.臀部,髋;屋脊 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
83 aspire | |
vi.(to,after)渴望,追求,有志于 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
84 worthy | |
adj.(of)值得的,配得上的;有价值的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
85 vows | |
誓言( vow的名词复数 ); 郑重宣布,许愿 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
86 antagonism | |
n.对抗,敌对,对立 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
87 bickered | |
v.争吵( bicker的过去式和过去分词 );口角;(水等)作潺潺声;闪烁 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
88 underneath | |
adj.在...下面,在...底下;adv.在下面 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
89 bided | |
v.等待,停留( bide的过去式 );居住;等待;面临 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
90 chamber | |
n.房间,寝室;会议厅;议院;会所 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
91 entrusted | |
v.委托,托付( entrust的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
92 humble | |
adj.谦卑的,恭顺的;地位低下的;v.降低,贬低 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
93 benign | |
adj.善良的,慈祥的;良性的,无危险的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
94 omnipotent | |
adj.全能的,万能的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
95 conceits | |
高傲( conceit的名词复数 ); 自以为; 巧妙的词语; 别出心裁的比喻 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
96 humbly | |
adv. 恭顺地,谦卑地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
97 beseech | |
v.祈求,恳求 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
98 prosper | |
v.成功,兴隆,昌盛;使成功,使昌隆,繁荣 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
99 advancement | |
n.前进,促进,提升 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
100 devout | |
adj.虔诚的,虔敬的,衷心的 (n.devoutness) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
101 potentate | |
n.统治者;君主 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
102 hazardous | |
adj.(有)危险的,冒险的;碰运气的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
103 folly | |
n.愚笨,愚蠢,蠢事,蠢行,傻话 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
104 doom | |
n.厄运,劫数;v.注定,命定 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
105 wringing | |
淋湿的,湿透的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
106 majesty | |
n.雄伟,壮丽,庄严,威严;最高权威,王权 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
107 laden | |
adj.装满了的;充满了的;负了重担的;苦恼的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
108 nuns | |
n.(通常指基督教的)修女, (佛教的)尼姑( nun的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
109 ecstasies | |
狂喜( ecstasy的名词复数 ); 出神; 入迷; 迷幻药 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
110 chivalry | |
n.骑士气概,侠义;(男人)对女人彬彬有礼,献殷勤 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
111 vista | |
n.远景,深景,展望,回想 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
112 admiration | |
n.钦佩,赞美,羡慕 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
113 judgment | |
n.审判;判断力,识别力,看法,意见 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
114 fortify | |
v.强化防御,为…设防;加强,强化 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
115 disallowed | |
v.不承认(某事物)有效( disallow的过去式和过去分词 );不接受;不准;驳回 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
116 decided | |
adj.决定了的,坚决的;明显的,明确的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
117 ransom | |
n.赎金,赎身;v.赎回,解救 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
118 dismantled | |
拆开( dismantle的过去式和过去分词 ); 拆卸; 废除; 取消 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
119 plunder | |
vt.劫掠财物,掠夺;n.劫掠物,赃物;劫掠 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
120 bishop | |
n.主教,(国际象棋)象 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
121 victoriously | |
adv.获胜地,胜利地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
122 utterly | |
adv.完全地,绝对地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
123 innocence | |
n.无罪;天真;无害 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
124 solitude | |
n. 孤独; 独居,荒僻之地,幽静的地方 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
125 insignificance | |
n.不重要;无价值;无意义 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
126 melancholy | |
n.忧郁,愁思;adj.令人感伤(沮丧)的,忧郁的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
127 pathos | |
n.哀婉,悲怆 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
128 forth | |
adv.向前;向外,往外 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
129 robin | |
n.知更鸟,红襟鸟 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
欢迎访问英文小说网 |