Great physician that he was, Beauvouloir saw plainly that to a being so delicately organized as Etienne marriage must come as a slow and gentle inspiration, communicating new powers to his being and vivifying it with the fires of love. As he had said to the father, to impose a wife on Etienne would be to kill him. Above all it was important that the young recluse1 should not be alarmed at the thought of marriage, of which he knew nothing, or be made aware of the object of his father’s wishes. This unknown poet conceived as yet only the beautiful and noble passion of Petrarch for Laura, of Dante for Beatrice. Like his mother he was all pure love and soul; the opportunity to love must be given to him, and then the event should be awaited, not compelled. A command to love would have dried within him the very sources of his life.
Maitre Antoine Beauvouloir was a father; he had a daughter brought up under conditions which made her the wife for Etienne. It was so difficult to foresee the events which would make a son, disowned by his father and destined3 to the priesthood, the presumptive heir of the house of Herouville that Beauvouloir had never until now noticed the resemblance between the fate of Etienne and that of Gabrielle. A sudden idea which now came to him was inspired more by his devotion to those two beings than by ambition.
His wife, in spite of his great skill, had died in child-bed leaving him a daughter whose health was so frail4 that it seemed as if the mother had bequeathed to her fruit the germs of death. Beauvouloir loved his Gabrielle as old men love their only child. His science and his incessant5 care had given factitious life to this frail creature, which he cultivated as a florist6 cultivates an exotic plant. He had kept her hidden from all eyes on his estate of Forcalier, where she was protected against the dangers of the time by the general good-will felt for a man to whom all owed gratitude7, and whose scientific powers inspired in the ignorant minds of the country-people a superstitious8 awe9.
By attaching himself to the house of Herouville, Beauvouloir had increased still further the immunity10 he enjoyed in the province, and had thwarted11 all attempts of his enemies by means of his powerful influence with the governor. He had taken care, however, in coming to reside at the castle, not to bring with him the flower he cherished in secret at Forcalier, a domain12 more important for its landed value than for the house then upon it, but with which he expected to obtain for his daughter an establishment in conformity13 with his views. While promising14 the duke a posterity15 and requiring his master’s word of honor to approve his acts, he thought suddenly of Gabrielle, of that sweet child whose mother had been neglected and forgotten by the duke as he had also neglected and forgotten his son Etienne.
He awaited the departure of his master before putting his plan into execution; foreseeing that, if the duke became aware of it, the enormous difficulties in the way would be from the first insurmountable.
Beauvouloir’s house at Forcalier had a southern exposure on the slope of one of those gentle hills which surround the vales of Normandy; a thick wood shielded it from the north; high walls and Norman hedges and deep ditches made the enclosure inviolable. The garden, descending16 by an easy incline to the river which watered the valley, had a thick double hedge at its foot, forming an natural embankment. Within this double hedge wound a hidden path, led by the sinuosities of the stream, which the willows17, oaks, and beeches18 made as leafy as a woodland glade19. From the house to this natural rampart stretched a mass of verdure peculiar20 to that rich soil; a beautiful green sheet bordered by a fringe of rare trees, the tones of which formed a tapestry21 of exquisite22 coloring: there, the silvery tints23 of a pine stood forth24 against the darker green of several alders25; here, before a group of sturdy oaks a slender poplar lifted its palm-like figure, ever swaying; farther on, the weeping willows drooped26 their pale foliage27 between the stout28, round-headed walnuts29. This belt of trees enabled the occupants of the house to go down at all hours to the river-bank fearless of the rays of the sun.
The facade30 of the house, before which lay the yellow ribbon of a gravelled terrace, was shaded by a wooden gallery, around which climbing plants were twining, and tossing in this month of May their various blossoms into the very windows of the second floor. Without being really vast, this garden seemed immense from the manner in which its vistas31 were cut; points of view, cleverly contrived32 through the rise and fall of the ground, married themselves, as it were, to those of the valley, where the eye could rove at will. Following the instincts of her thought, Gabrielle could either enter the solitude33 of a narrow space, seeing naught34 but the thick green and the blue of the sky above the tree-tops, or she could hover35 above a glorious prospect36, letting her eyes follow those many-shaded green lines, from the brilliant colors of the foreground to the pure tones of the horizon on which they lost themselves, sometimes in the blue ocean of the atmosphere, sometimes in the cumuli that floated above it.
Watched over by her grandmother and served by her former nurse, Gabrielle Beauvouloir never left this modest home except for the parish church, the steeple of which could be seen at the summit of the hill, whither she was always accompanied by her grandmother, her nurse, and her father’s valet. She had reached the age of seventeen in that sweet ignorance which the rarity of books allowed a girl to retain without appearing extraordinary at a period when educated women were thought phenomenal. The house had been to her a convent, but with more freedom, less enforced prayer,—a retreat where she had lived beneath the eye of a pious37 old woman and the protection of her father, the only man she had ever known. This absolute solitude, necessitated38 from her birth by the apparent feebleness of her constitution, had been carefully maintained by Beauvouloir.
As Gabrielle grew up, such constant care and the purity of the atmosphere had gradually strengthened her fragile youth. Still, the wise physician did not deceive himself when he saw the pearly tints around his daughter’s eyes soften39 or darken or flush according to the emotions that overcame her; the weakness of the body and the strength of the soul were made plain to him in that one indication which his long experience enabled him to understand. Besides this, Gabrielle’s celestial40 beauty made him fearful of attempts too common in times of violence and sedition41. Many reasons had thus induced the good father to deepen the shadows and increase the solitude that surrounded his daughter, whose excessive sensibility alarmed him; a passion, an assault, a shock of any kind might wound her mortally. Though she seldom deserved blame, a mere42 word of reproach overcame her; she kept it in the depths of her heart, where it fostered a meditative43 melancholy44; she would turn away weeping, and wept long.
Thus the moral education of the young girl required no less care than her physical education. The old physician had been compelled to cease telling stories, such as all children love, to his daughter; the impressions she received were too vivid. Wise through long practice, he endeavored to develop her body in order to deaden the blows which a soul so powerful gave to it. Gabrielle was all of life and love to her father, his only heir, and never had he hesitated to procure45 for her such things as might produce the results he aimed for. He carefully removed from her knowledge books, pictures, music, all those creations of art which awaken46 thought. Aided by his mother he interested Gabrielle in manual exercises. Tapestry, sewing, lace-making, the culture of flowers, household cares, the storage of fruits, in short, the most material occupations of life, were the food given to the mind of this charming creature. Beauvouloir brought her beautiful spinning-wheels, finely-carved chests, rich carpets, pottery47 of Bernard de Palissy, tables, prie-dieus, chairs beautifully wrought48 and covered with precious stuffs, embroidered49 line and jewels. With an instinct given by paternity, the old man always chose his presents among the works of that fantastic order called arabesque50, which, speaking neither to the soul nor the senses, addresses the mind only by its creations of pure fantasy.
Thus—singular to say!—the life which the hatred51 of a father had imposed on Etienne d’Herouville, paternal52 love had induced Beauvouloir to impose on Gabrielle. In both these children the soul was killing53 the body; and without an absolute solitude, ordained54 by cruelty for one and procured57 by science for the other, each was likely to succumb,—he to terror, she beneath the weight of a too keen emotion of love. But, alas58! instead of being born in a region of gorse and moor59, in the midst of an arid60 nature of hard and angular shapes, such as all great painters have given as backgrounds to their Virgins61, Gabrielle lived in a rich and fertile valley. Beauvouloir could not destroy the harmonious63 grouping of the native woods, the graceful64 upspringing of the wild flowers, the cool softness of the grassy65 slopes, the love expressed in the intertwining growth of the clustering plants. Such ever-living poesies have a language heard, rather than understood by the poor girl, who yielded to vague misery66 among the shadows. Across the misty67 ideas suggested by her long study of this beautiful landscape, observed at all seasons and through all the variations of a marine68 atmosphere in which the fogs of England come to die and the sunshine of France is born, there rose within her soul a distant light, a dawn which pierced the darkness in which her father kept her.
Beauvouloir had never withdrawn69 his daughter from the influence of Divine love; to a deep admiration71 of nature she joined her girlish adoration72 of the Creator, springing thus into the first way open to the feelings of womanhood. She loved God, she loved Jesus, the Virgin62 and the saints; she loved the Church and its pomps; she was Catholic after the manner of Saint Teresa, who saw in Jesus an eternal spouse73, a continual marriage. Gabrielle gave herself up to this passion of strong souls with so touching74 a simplicity75 that she would have disarmed76 the most brutal77 seducer78 by the infantine naivete of her language.
Whither was this life of innocence79 leading Gabrielle? How teach a mind as pure as the water of a tranquil80 lake, reflecting only the azure81 of the skies? What images should be drawn70 upon that spotless canvas? Around which tree must the tendrils of this bind-weed twine82? No father has ever put these questions to himself without an inward shudder83.
At this moment the good old man of science was riding slowly on his mule84 along the roads from Herouville to Ourscamp (the name of the village near which the estate of Forcalier was situated) as if he wished to keep that way unending. The infinite love he bore his daughter suggested a bold project to his mind. One only being in all the world could make her happy; that man was Etienne. Assuredly, the angelic son of Jeanne de Saint-Savin and the guileless daughter of Gertrude Marana were twin beings. All other women would frighten and kill the heir of Herouville; and Gabrielle, so Beauvouloir argued, would perish by contact with any man in whom sentiments and external forms had not the virgin delicacy85 of those of Etienne. Certainly the poor physician had never dreamed of such a result; chance had brought it forward and seemed to ordain55 it. But, under, the reign86 of Louis XIII., to dare to lead a Duc d’Herouville to marry the daughter of a bonesetter!
And yet, from this marriage alone was it likely that the lineage imperiously demanded by the old duke would result. Nature had destined these two rare beings for each other; God had brought them together by a marvellous arrangement of events, while, at the same time, human ideas and laws placed insuperable barriers between them. Though the old man thought he saw in this the finger of God, and although he had forced the duke to pass his word, he was seized with such fear, as his thoughts reverted87 to the violence of that ungovernable nature, that he returned upon his steps when, on reaching the summit of the hill above Ourscamp, he saw the smoke of his own chimneys among the trees that enclosed his home. Then, changing his mind once more, the thought of the illegitimate relationship decided88 him; that consideration might have great influence on the mind of his master. Once decided, Beauvouloir had confidence in the chances and changes of life; it might be that the duke would die before the marriage; besides, there were many examples of such marriage; a peasant girl in Dauphine, Francoise Mignot, had lately married the Marechal d’Hopital; the son of the Connetable Anne de Montmorency had married Diane, daughter of Henri II. and a Piedmontese lady named Philippa Duc.
During this mental deliberation in which paternal love measured all probabilities and discussed both the good and the evil chances, striving to foresee the future and weighing its elements, Gabrielle was walking in the garden and gathering89 flowers for the vases of that illustrious potter, who did for glaze90 what Benvenuto Cellini did for metal. Gabrielle had put one of these vases, decorated with animals in relief, on a table in the middle of the hall, and was filling it with flowers to enliven her grandmother, and also, perhaps, to give form to her own ideas. The noble vase, of the pottery called Limoges, was filled, arranged, and placed upon the handsome table-cloth, and Gabrielle was saying to her grandmother, “See!” when Beauvouloir entered. The young girl ran to her father’s arms. After this first outburst of affection she wanted him to admire her bouquet91; but the old man, after glancing at it, cast a long, deep look at his daughter, which made her blush.
“The time has come,” he said to himself, understanding the language of those flowers, each of which had doubtless been studied as to form and as to color, and given its true place in the bouquet, where it produced its own magical effect.
Gabrielle remained standing92, forgetting the flower begun on her tapestry. As he looked at his daughter a tear rolled from Beauvouloir’s eyes, furrowed93 his cheeks which seldom wore a serious aspect, and fell upon his shirt, which, after the fashion of the day, his open doublet exposed to view above his breeches. He threw off his felt hat, adorned94 with an old red plume95, in order to rub his hand over his bald head. Again he looked at his daughter, who, beneath the brown rafters of that leather-hung room, with its ebony furniture and portieres of silken damask, and its tall chimney-piece, the whole so softly lighted, was still his very own. The poor father felt the tears in his eyes and hastened to wipe them. A father who loves his daughter longs to keep her always a child; as for him who can without deep pain see her fall under the dominion96 of another man, he does not rise to worlds superior, he falls to lowest space.
“What ails97 you, my son?” said his old mother, taking off her spectacles, and seeking the cause of his silence and of the change in his usually joyous98 manner.
The old physician signed to the old mother to look at his daughter, nodding his head with satisfaction as if to say, “How sweet she is!”
What father would not have felt Beauvouloir’s emotion on seeing the young girl as she stood there in the Norman dress of that period? Gabrielle wore the corset pointed99 before and square behind, which the Italian masters give almost invariably to their saints and their madonnas. This elegant corselet, made of sky-blue velvet100, as dainty as that of a dragon-fly, enclosed the bust101 like a guimpe and compressed it, delicately modelling the outline as it seemed to flatten102; it moulded the shoulders, the back, the waist, with the precision of a drawing made by an able draftsman, ending around the neck in an oblong curve, adorned at the edges with a slight embroidery103 in brown silks, leaving to view as much of the bare throat as was needed to show the beauty of her womanhood, but not enough to awaken desire. A full brown skirt, continuing the lines already drawn by the velvet waist, fell to her feet in narrow flattened104 pleats. Her figure was so slender that Gabrielle seemed tall; her arms hung pendent with the inertia105 that some deep thought imparts to the attitude. Thus standing, she presented a living model of those ingenuous106 works of statuary a taste for which prevailed at that period,—works which obtained admiration for the harmony of their lines, straight without stiffness, and for the firmness of a design which did not exclude vitality107. No swallow, brushing the window-panes at dusk, ever conveyed the idea of greater elegance108 of outline.
Gabrielle’s face was thin, but not flat; on her neck and forehead ran bluish threads showing the delicacy of a skin so transparent109 that the flowing of the blood through her veins110 seemed visible. This excessive whiteness was faintly tinted111 with rose upon the cheeks. Held beneath a little coif of sky-blue velvet embroidered with pearls, her hair, of an even tone, flowed like two rivulets112 of gold from her temples and played in ringlets on her neck, which it did not hide. The glowing color of those silky locks brightened the dazzling whiteness of the neck, and purified still further by its reflections the outlines of the face already so pure. The eyes, which were long and as if pressed between their lids, were in harmony with the delicacy of the head and body; their pearl-gray tints were brilliant without vivacity113, candid114 without passion. The line of the nose might have seemed cold, like a steel blade, without two rosy115 nostrils116, the movements of which were out of keeping with the chastity of that dreamy brow, often perplexed117, sometimes smiling, but always of an august serenity118. An alert little ear attracted the eye, peeping beneath the coif and between two curls, and showing a ruby119 ear-drop, the color of which stood vigorously out on the milky120 whiteness of the neck. This was neither Norman beauty, where flesh abounds121, nor French beauty, as fugitive122 as its own expressions, nor the beauty of the North, cold and melancholy as the North itself—it was the deep seraphic beauty of the Catholic Church, supple123 and rigid124, severe but tender.
“Where could one find a prettier duchess?” thought Beauvouloir, contemplating125 his daughter with delight. As she stood there slightly bending, her neck stretched out to watch the flight of a bird past the windows, he could only compare her to a gazelle pausing to listen for the ripple126 of the water where she seeks to drink.
“Come and sit here,” said Beauvouloir, tapping his knee and making a sign to Gabrielle, which told her he had something to whisper to her.
Gabrielle understood him, and came. She placed herself on his knee with the lightness of a gazelle, and slipped her arm about his neck, ruffling127 his collar.
“Tell me,” he said, “what were you thinking of when you gathered those flowers? You have never before arranged them so charmingly.”
“I was thinking of many things,” she answered. “Looking at the flowers made for us, I wondered whom we were made for; who are they who look at us? You are wise, and I can tell you what I think; you know so much you can explain all. I feel a sort of force within me that wants to exercise itself; I struggle against something. When the sky is gray I am half content; I am sad, but I am calm. When the day is fine, and the flowers smell sweet, and I sit on my bench down there among the jasmine and honeysuckles, something rises in me, like waves which beat against my stillness. Ideas come into my mind which shake me, and fly away like those birds before the windows; I cannot hold them. Well, when I have made a bouquet in which the colors blend like tapestry, and the red contrasts with white, and the greens and the browns cross each other, when all seems so abundant, the breeze so playful, the flowers so many that their fragrance128 mingles129 and their buds interlace,—well, then I am happy, for I see what is passing in me. At church when the organ plays and the clergy130 respond, there are two distinct songs speaking to each other,—the human voice and the music. Well, then, too, I am happy; that harmony echoes in my breast. I pray with a pleasure which stirs my blood.”
While listening to his daughter, Beauvouloir examined her with sagacious eyes; those eyes seemed almost stupid from the force of his rushing thoughts, as the water of a cascade131 seems motionless. He raised the veil of flesh which hid the secret springs by which the soul reacts upon the body; he studied the diverse symptoms which his long experience had noted132 in persons committed to his care, and he compared them with those contained in this frail body, the bones of which frightened him by their delicacy, as the milk-white skin alarmed him by its want of substance. He tried to bring the teachings of his science to bear upon the future of that angelic child, and he was dizzy in so doing, as though he stood upon the verge133 of an abyss; the too vibrant134 voice, the too slender bosom135 of the young girl filled him with dread136, and he questioned himself after questioning her.
“You suffer here!” he cried at last, driven by a last thought which summed up his whole meditation137.
“By God’s grace!” said the old man, with a sigh, “I will take you to the Chateau139 d’Herouville, and there you shall take sea-baths to strengthen you.”
“Is that true, father? You are not laughing at your little Gabrielle? I have so longed to see the castle, and the men-at-arms, and the captains of monseigneur.”
“Yes, my daughter, you shall really go there. Your nurse and Jean shall accompany you.”
“Soon?”
“To-morrow,” said the old man, hurrying into the garden to hide his agitation140 from his mother and his child.
“God is my witness,” he cried to himself, “that no ambitious thought impels141 me. My daughter to save, poor little Etienne to make happy,—those are my only motives142.”
If he thus interrogated143 himself it was because, in the depths of his consciousness, he felt an inextinguishable satisfaction in knowing that the success of his project would make Gabrielle some day the Duchesse d’Herouville. There is always a man in a father. He walked about a long time, and when he came in to supper he took delight for the rest of the evening in watching his daughter in the midst of the soft brown poesy with which he had surrounded her; and when, before she went to bed, they all—the grandmother, the nurse, the doctor, and Gabrielle—knelt together to say their evening prayer, he added the words,—
“Let us pray to God to bless my enterprise.”
The eyes of the grandmother, who knew his intentions, were moistened with what tears remained to her. Gabrielle’s face was flushed with happiness. The father trembled, so much did he fear some catastrophe144.
“After all,” his mother said to him, “fear not, my son. The duke would never kill his grandchild.”
“No,” he replied, “but he might compel her to marry some brute145 of a baron146, and that would kill her.”
The next day Gabrielle, mounted on an ass2, followed by her nurse on foot, her father on his mule, and a valet who led two horses laden147 with baggage, started for the castle of Herouville, where the caravan148 arrived at nightfall. In order to keep this journey secret, Beauvouloir had taken by-roads, starting early in the morning, and had brought provisions to be eaten by the way, in order not to show himself at hostelries. The party arrived, therefore, after dark, without being noticed by the castle retinue149, at the little dwelling150 on the seashore, so long occupied by the hated son, where Bertrand, the only person the doctor had taken into his confidence, awaited them. The old retainer helped the nurse and valet to unload the horses and carry in the baggage, and otherwise establish the daughter of Beauvouloir in Etienne’s former abode151. When Bertrand saw Gabrielle, he was amazed.
“I seem to see madame!” he cried. “She is slim and willowy like her; she has madame’s coloring and the same fair hair. The old duke will surely love her.”
“God grant it!” said Beauvouloir. “But will he acknowledge his own blood after it has passed through mine?”
“He can’t deny it,” replied Bertrand. “I often went to fetch him from the door of the Belle152 Romaine, who lived in the rue56 Culture-Sainte-Catherine. The Cardinal153 de Lorraine was compelled to give her up to monseigneur, out of shame at being insulted by the mob when he left her house. Monseigneur, who in those days was still in his twenties, will remember that affair; bold he was,—I can tell it now—he led the insulters!”
“He never thinks of the past,” said Beauvouloir. “He knows my wife is dead, but I doubt if he remembers I have a daughter.”
“Two old navigators like you and me ought to be able to bring the ship to port,” said Bertrand. “After all, suppose the duke does get angry and seize our carcasses; they have served their time.”
收听单词发音 |
1
recluse
|
|
| n.隐居者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
ass
|
|
| n.驴；傻瓜，蠢笨的人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
destined
|
|
| adj.命中注定的；(for)以…为目的地的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
frail
|
|
| adj.身体虚弱的；易损坏的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
incessant
|
|
| adj.不停的，连续的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
florist
|
|
| n.花商；种花者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
gratitude
|
|
| adj.感激，感谢 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
superstitious
|
|
| adj.迷信的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
awe
|
|
| n.敬畏，惊惧；vt.使敬畏，使惊惧 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
immunity
|
|
| n.优惠；免除；豁免，豁免权 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
thwarted
|
|
| 阻挠( thwart的过去式和过去分词 )； 使受挫折； 挫败； 横过 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
domain
|
|
| n.(活动等)领域，范围；领地，势力范围 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
conformity
|
|
| n.一致，遵从，顺从 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
promising
|
|
| adj.有希望的，有前途的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
posterity
|
|
| n.后裔，子孙，后代 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
descending
|
|
| n. 下行 adj. 下降的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
willows
|
|
| n.柳树( willow的名词复数 )；柳木 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
beeches
|
|
| n.山毛榉( beech的名词复数 )；山毛榉木材 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
glade
|
|
| n.林间空地，一片表面有草的沼泽低地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
peculiar
|
|
| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
tapestry
|
|
| n.挂毯，丰富多采的画面 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
exquisite
|
|
| adj.精美的；敏锐的；剧烈的，感觉强烈的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
tints
|
|
| 色彩( tint的名词复数 )； 带白的颜色； （淡色）染发剂； 痕迹 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
forth
|
|
| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
alders
|
|
| n.桤木( alder的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
|
26
drooped
|
|
| 弯曲或下垂，发蔫( droop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
foliage
|
|
| n.叶子，树叶，簇叶 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
walnuts
|
|
| 胡桃（树）( walnut的名词复数 )； 胡桃木 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
facade
|
|
| n.(建筑物的)正面，临街正面；外表 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
vistas
|
|
| 长条形景色( vista的名词复数 )； 回顾； 展望； （未来可能发生的）一系列情景 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
contrived
|
|
| adj.不自然的，做作的；虚构的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
solitude
|
|
| n. 孤独; 独居,荒僻之地,幽静的地方 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
naught
|
|
| n.无，零 [=nought] | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
hover
|
|
| vi.翱翔，盘旋；徘徊；彷徨，犹豫 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
prospect
|
|
| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
pious
|
|
| adj.虔诚的；道貌岸然的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
necessitated
|
|
| 使…成为必要，需要( necessitate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
soften
|
|
| v.(使)变柔软；(使)变柔和 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
celestial
|
|
| adj.天体的；天上的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
sedition
|
|
| n.煽动叛乱 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
mere
|
|
| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
meditative
|
|
| adj.沉思的，冥想的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
melancholy
|
|
| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
procure
|
|
| vt.获得，取得，促成；vi.拉皮条 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
awaken
|
|
| vi.醒，觉醒；vt.唤醒，使觉醒，唤起，激起 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
pottery
|
|
| n.陶器，陶器场 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
wrought
|
|
| v.引起；以…原料制作；运转；adj.制造的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
embroidered
|
|
| adj．绣花的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
arabesque
|
|
| n.阿拉伯式花饰；adj.阿拉伯式图案的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
hatred
|
|
| n.憎恶，憎恨，仇恨 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
paternal
|
|
| adj.父亲的，像父亲的，父系的，父方的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
killing
|
|
| n.巨额利润；突然赚大钱，发大财 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
ordained
|
|
| v.任命（某人）为牧师( ordain的过去式和过去分词 )；授予（某人）圣职；（上帝、法律等）命令；判定 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
ordain
|
|
| vi.颁发命令；vt.命令，授以圣职，注定，任命 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
rue
|
|
| n.懊悔，芸香，后悔；v.后悔，悲伤，懊悔 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
procured
|
|
| v.（努力）取得， （设法）获得( procure的过去式和过去分词 )；拉皮条 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
58
alas
|
|
| int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
59
moor
|
|
| n.荒野，沼泽；vt.(使)停泊；vi.停泊 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
arid
|
|
| adj.干旱的；(土地)贫瘠的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
61
virgins
|
|
| 处女，童男( virgin的名词复数 )； 童贞玛利亚（耶稣之母） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
62
virgin
|
|
| n.处女，未婚女子；adj.未经使用的；未经开发的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
63
harmonious
|
|
| adj.和睦的，调和的，和谐的，协调的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
64
graceful
|
|
| adj.优美的，优雅的；得体的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
65
grassy
|
|
| adj.盖满草的；长满草的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
66
misery
|
|
| n.痛苦，苦恼，苦难；悲惨的境遇，贫苦 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
67
misty
|
|
| adj.雾蒙蒙的，有雾的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
68
marine
|
|
| adj.海的；海生的；航海的；海事的；n.水兵 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
69
withdrawn
|
|
| vt.收回；使退出；vi.撤退，退出 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
70
drawn
|
|
| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
71
admiration
|
|
| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
72
adoration
|
|
| n.爱慕，崇拜 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
73
spouse
|
|
| n.配偶(指夫或妻) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
74
touching
|
|
| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
75
simplicity
|
|
| n.简单，简易；朴素；直率，单纯 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
76
disarmed
|
|
| v.裁军( disarm的过去式和过去分词 )；使息怒 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
77
brutal
|
|
| adj.残忍的，野蛮的，不讲理的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
78
seducer
|
|
| n.诱惑者,骗子,玩弄女性的人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
79
innocence
|
|
| n.无罪；天真；无害 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
80
tranquil
|
|
| adj. 安静的, 宁静的, 稳定的, 不变的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
81
azure
|
|
| adj.天蓝色的，蔚蓝色的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
82
twine
|
|
| v.搓，织，编饰；（使）缠绕 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
83
shudder
|
|
| v.战粟，震动，剧烈地摇晃；n.战粟，抖动 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
84
mule
|
|
| n.骡子，杂种，执拗的人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
85
delicacy
|
|
| n.精致，细微，微妙，精良；美味，佳肴 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
86
reign
|
|
| n.统治时期，统治，支配，盛行；v.占优势 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
87
reverted
|
|
| 恢复( revert的过去式和过去分词 )； 重提； 回到…上； 归还 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
88
decided
|
|
| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
89
gathering
|
|
| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
90
glaze
|
|
| v.因疲倦、疲劳等指眼睛变得呆滞，毫无表情 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
91
bouquet
|
|
| n.花束，酒香 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
92
standing
|
|
| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
93
furrowed
|
|
| v.犁田，开沟( furrow的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
94
adorned
|
|
| [计]被修饰的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
95
plume
|
|
| n.羽毛；v.整理羽毛，骚首弄姿，用羽毛装饰 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
96
dominion
|
|
| n.统治，管辖，支配权；领土，版图 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
97
ails
|
|
| v.生病( ail的第三人称单数 )；感到不舒服；处境困难；境况不佳 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
98
joyous
|
|
| adj.充满快乐的；令人高兴的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
99
pointed
|
|
| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
100
velvet
|
|
| n.丝绒，天鹅绒；adj.丝绒制的，柔软的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
101
bust
|
|
| vt.打破；vi.爆裂；n.半身像；胸部 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
102
flatten
|
|
| v.把．．．弄平，使倒伏；使(漆等)失去光泽 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
103
embroidery
|
|
| n.绣花，刺绣；绣制品 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
104
flattened
|
|
| [医]（水）平扁的，弄平的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
105
inertia
|
|
| adj.惰性，惯性，懒惰，迟钝 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
106
ingenuous
|
|
| adj.纯朴的，单纯的；天真的；坦率的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
107
vitality
|
|
| n.活力，生命力，效力 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
108
elegance
|
|
| n.优雅；优美，雅致；精致，巧妙 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
109
transparent
|
|
| adj.明显的，无疑的；透明的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
110
veins
|
|
| n.纹理；矿脉( vein的名词复数 )；静脉；叶脉；纹理 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
111
tinted
|
|
| adj. 带色彩的 动词tint的过去式和过去分词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
112
rivulets
|
|
| n.小河，小溪( rivulet的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
113
vivacity
|
|
| n.快活，活泼，精神充沛 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
114
candid
|
|
| adj.公正的，正直的；坦率的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
115
rosy
|
|
| adj.美好的，乐观的，玫瑰色的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
116
nostrils
|
|
| 鼻孔( nostril的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
117
perplexed
|
|
| adj.不知所措的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
118
serenity
|
|
| n.宁静，沉着，晴朗 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
119
ruby
|
|
| n.红宝石，红宝石色 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
120
milky
|
|
| adj.牛奶的，多奶的；乳白色的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
121
abounds
|
|
| v.大量存在，充满，富于( abound的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
122
fugitive
|
|
| adj.逃亡的，易逝的；n.逃犯，逃亡者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
123
supple
|
|
| adj.柔软的，易弯的，逢迎的，顺从的，灵活的；vt.使柔软，使柔顺，使顺从；vi.变柔软，变柔顺 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
124
rigid
|
|
| adj.严格的，死板的；刚硬的，僵硬的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
125
contemplating
|
|
| 深思，细想，仔细考虑( contemplate的现在分词 )； 注视，凝视； 考虑接受（发生某事的可能性）； 深思熟虑，沉思，苦思冥想 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
126
ripple
|
|
| n.涟波，涟漪，波纹，粗钢梳；vt.使...起涟漪，使起波纹； vi.呈波浪状，起伏前进 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
127
ruffling
|
|
| 弄皱( ruffle的现在分词 )； 弄乱； 激怒； 扰乱 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
128
fragrance
|
|
| n.芬芳，香味，香气 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
129
mingles
|
|
| 混合，混入( mingle的第三人称单数 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
130
clergy
|
|
| n.[总称]牧师，神职人员 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
131
cascade
|
|
| n.小瀑布，喷流；层叠；vi.成瀑布落下 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
132
noted
|
|
| adj.著名的，知名的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
133
verge
|
|
| n.边，边缘；v.接近，濒临 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
134
vibrant
|
|
| adj.震颤的，响亮的，充满活力的，精力充沛的，(色彩)鲜明的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
135
bosom
|
|
| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
136
dread
|
|
| vt.担忧，忧虑；惧怕，不敢；n.担忧，畏惧 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
137
meditation
|
|
| n.熟虑，（尤指宗教的）默想，沉思，（pl.）冥想录 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
138
bent
|
|
| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
139
chateau
|
|
| n.城堡，别墅 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
140
agitation
|
|
| n.搅动；搅拌；鼓动，煽动 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
141
impels
|
|
| v.推动、推进或敦促某人做某事( impel的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
142
motives
|
|
| n.动机，目的( motive的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
143
interrogated
|
|
| v.询问( interrogate的过去式和过去分词 )；审问；（在计算机或其他机器上）查询 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
144
catastrophe
|
|
| n.大灾难，大祸 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
145
brute
|
|
| n.野兽，兽性 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
146
baron
|
|
| n.男爵；(商业界等)巨头，大王 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
147
laden
|
|
| adj.装满了的；充满了的；负了重担的；苦恼的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
148
caravan
|
|
| n.大蓬车；活动房屋 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
149
retinue
|
|
| n.侍从；随员 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
150
dwelling
|
|
| n.住宅，住所，寓所 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
151
abode
|
|
| n.住处，住所 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
152
belle
|
|
| n.靓女 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
153
cardinal
|
|
| n.(天主教的)红衣主教；adj.首要的，基本的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |