Sir Richard Jebb remarks, with truth, that “before any definite solution of the Homeric problem could derive1 scientific support from such analogies” (with epics3 of other peoples), “it would be necessary to show that the particular conditions under which the Homeric poems appear in early Greece had been reproduced with sufficient closeness elsewhere.” 363 Now we can show that the particular conditions under which the Homeric poems confessedly arose were “reproduced with sufficient closeness elsewhere,” except that no really great poet was elsewhere present.
This occurred among the Germanic aristocracy, “the Franks of France,” in the eleventh, twelfth, and early thirteenth centuries of our era. The closeness of the whole parallel, allowing for the admitted absence in France of a very great and truly artistic4 poet, is astonishing.
We have first, in France, answering to the Achaean aristocracy, the Frankish noblesse of warriors5 dwelling7 in princely courts and strong castles, dominating an older population, owing a practically doubtful fealty8 to an Over–Lord, the King, passing their days in the chace, in private war, or in revolt against the Over–Lord, and, for all literary entertainment, depending on the recitations of epic2 poems by jongleurs, who in some cases are of gentle birth, and are the authors of the poems which they recite.
“This national poetry,” says M. Gaston Paris, “was born and mainly developed among the warlike class, princes, lords, and their courts. . . . At first, no doubt, some of these men of the sword themselves composed and chanted lays” (like Achilles), “but soon there arose a special class of poets . . . They went from court to court, from castle . . . Later, when the townsfolk began to be interested in their chants, they sank a degree, and took their stand in public open places . . . ” 364
In the Iliad we hear of no minstrels in camp: in the Odyssey9 a prince has a minstrel among his retainers — Demodocus, at the court of Phaeacia; Phemius, in the house of Odysseus. In Ionia, when princes had passed away, rhapsodists recited for gain in marketplaces and at fairs. The parallel with France is so far complete.
The French national epics, like those of the Achaeans, deal mainly with legends of a long past legendary10 age. To the French authors the greatness and the fortunes of the Emperor Charles and other heroic heads of great Houses provide a theme. The topics of song are his wars, and the prowess and the quarrels of his peers with the Emperor and among themselves. These are seen magnified through a mist of legend; Saracens are substituted for Gascon foes11, and the great Charles, so nobly venerable a figure in the oldest French epic (the Chanson de Roland, circ. 1050–1070 in its earliest extant form), is more degraded, in the later epics, than Agamemnon himself. The “machinery12” of the gods in Homer is replaced by the machinery of angels, but the machinery of dreams is in vogue13, as in the Iliad and Odyssey. The sources are traditional and legendary.
We know that brief early lays of Charles and other heroes had existed, and they may have been familiar to the French epic poets, but they were not merely patched into the epics. The form of verse is not ballad-like, but a series of laisses of decasyllabic lines, each laisse presenting one assonance, not rhyme. As time went on, rhyme and Alexandrine lines were introduced, and the old epics were expanded, altered, condensed, remaniés, with progressive changes in taste, metre, language, manners, and ways of life.
Finally, an age of Cyclic poems began; authors took new characters, whom they attached by false genealogies14 to the older heroes, and they chanted the adventures of the sons of the former heroes, like the Cyclic poet who sang of the son of Odysseus by Circe. All these conditions are undeniably “true parallels” to “the conditions under which the Homeric poems appeared.” The only obvious point of difference vanishes if we admit, with Sir Richard Jebb and M. Salomon Reinach, the possibility of the existence of written texts in the Greece of the early iron age.
We do not mean texts prepared for a reading public. In France such a public, demanding texts for reading, did not arise till the decadence15 of the epic. The oldest French texts of their epics are small volumes, each page containing some thirty lines in one column. Such volumes were carried about by the jongleurs, who chanted their own or other men’s verses. They were not in the hands of readers. 365
An example of an author-reciter, Jendeus de Brie (he was the maker16 of the first version of the Bataille Loquifer, twelfth century) is instructive. Of Jendeus de Brie it is said that “he wrote the poem, kept it very carefully, taught it to no man, made much gain out of it in Sicily where he sojourned, and left it to his son when he died.” Similar statements are made in Renaus de Montauban (the existing late version is of the thirteenth century) about Huon de Villeneuve, who would not part with his poem for horses or furs, or for any price, and about other poets. 366
These early jongleurs were men of position and distinction; their theme was the gestes of princes; they were not under the ban with which the Church pursued vulgar strollers, men like the Greek rhapsodists. Pindar’s story that Homer wrote the Cypria 367 and gave the copy, as the dowry of his daughter, to Stasinus who married her, could only have arisen in Greece in circumstances exactly like those of Jendeus de Brie. Jendeus lived on his poem by reciting it, and left it to his son when he died. The story of Homer and Stasinus could only have been invented in an age when the possession of the solitary17 text of a poem was a source of maintenance to the poet. This condition of things could not exist, either when there were no written texts or when such texts were multiplied to serve the wants of a reading public.
Again, a poet in the fortunate position of Jendeus would not teach his Epic in a “school” of reciters unless he were extremely well paid. In later years, after his death, his poem came, through copies good or bad, into circulation.
Late, in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, we hear of a “school” of jongleurs at Beauvais. In Lent they might not ply18 their profession, so they gathered at Beauvais, where they could learn cantilenae, new lays. 368 But by that time the epic was decadent19 and dying?
The audiences of the jongleurs, too, were no longer, by that time, what they had been. The rich and great, now, had library copies of the epics; not small jongleurs’ copies, but folios, richly illuminated20 and bound, with two or three columns of matter on each page. 369
The age of recitations from a text in princely halls was ending or ended; the age of a reading public was begun. The earlier condition of the jongleur who was his own poet, and carefully guarded his copyright in spite of all temptations to permit the copying of his MS., is regarded by Sir Richard Jebb as quite a possible feature of early Greece. He thinks that there was “no wide circulation of writings by numerous copies for a reading public” before the end of the fifth century B.C. As Greek mercenaries could write, and write well, in the seventh to sixth centuries, I incline to think that there may then, and earlier, have been a reading public. However, long before that a man might commit his poems to writing. “Wolf allows that some men did, as early at least as 776 B.C. The verses might never be read by anybody except himself” (the author) “or those to whom he privately21 bequeathed them” (as Jendeus de Brie bequeathed his poem to his son), “but his end would have been gained.” 370
Recent discoveries as to the very early date of linear non-Phoenician writing in Crete of course increase the probability of this opinion, which is corroborated22 by the story of the Cypria, given as a dowry with the author’s daughter. Thus “the particular conditions under which the Homeric poems appeared” “been reproduced with sufficient closeness” in every respect, with surprising closeness, in the France of the eleventh to thirteenth centuries. The social conditions are the same; the legendary materials are of identical character; the method of publication by recitation is identical; the cyclic decadence occurs in both cases, the monomanie cyclique. In the Greece of Homer we have the four necessary conditions of the epic, as found by M. Léon Gautier in mediaeval France. We have:—
(1) An uncritical age confusing history by legend.
(2) We have a national milieu23 with religious uniformity.
(3) We have poems dealing24 with —
“Old unhappy far-off things
And battles long ago.”
(4) We have representative heroes, the Over–Lord, and his peers or paladins. 371
It may be added that in Greece, as in France, some poets adapt into the adventures of their heroes world-old M?rchen, as in the Odyssey, and in the cycle of the parents of Charles.
In the French, as in the Greek epics, we have such early traits of poetry as the textual repetition of speeches, and the recurring25 epithets26, “swift-footed Achilles,” “Charles of the white beard,” “blameless heroes” (however blamable). Ladies, however old, are always “of the clear face.” Thus the technical manners of the French and Greek epics are closely parallel; they only differ in the exquisite27 art of Homer, to which no approach is made by the French poets.
The French authors of epic, even more than Homer, abound28 in episodes much more distracting than those of the Iliad. Of blood and wounds, of course, both the French and the Greek are profuse29: they were writing for men of the sword, not for modern critics. Indeed, the battle pieces of France almost translate those of Homer. The Achaean “does on his goodly corslet”; the French knight30 “sur ses espalles son halberc li colad.” The Achaean, with his great sword, shears31 off an arm at the shoulder. The French knight —
“Trenchad le braz,
Parmi leschine sun grant espee li passe.”
The huge shield of Aias becomes cele grant targe duble in France, and the warriors boast over their slain32 in France, as in the Iliad. In France, as in Greece, a favourite epic theme was “The Wrath33” of a hero, of Achilles, of Roland, of Ganelon, of Odysseus and Achilles wrangling34 at a feast to the joy of Agamemnon, “glad that the bravest of his peers were at strife35.” 372
Of all the many parallels between the Greek and French epics, the most extraordinary is the coincidence between Charles with his peers and Agamemnon with his princes. The same historical conditions occurred, at an interval36 of more than two thousand years. Agamemnon is the Bretwalda, the Over–Lord, as Mr. Freeman used to say, of the Achaeans: he is the suzerain. Charles in the French epics holds the same position, but the French poets regard him in different lights. In the earliest epic, the Chanson de Roland, a divinity doth hedge the famous Emperor, whom Jeanne d’Arc styled “St. Charlemagne.” He was, in fact, a man of thirty-seven at the date of the disaster of Roncesvaux, where Roland fell (778 A.D.). But in the tradition that has reached the poet of the chanson he is a white-bearded warrior6, as vigorous as he is venerable. As he rules by advice of his council, he bids them deliberate on the proposals of the Paynim King, Marsile — to accept or refuse them. Roland, the counterpart of Achilles in all respects (Oliver is his Patroclus), is for refusing: Ganelon appears to have the rest with him when he speaks in favour of peace and return to France out of Spain. So, in the Iliad (II.), the Achaeans lend a ready ear to Agamemnon when he proposes the abandonment of the siege of Troy. Each host, French and Achaean, is heartily37 homesick.
Ganelon’s advice prevailing38, it is necessary to send an envoy39 to the Saracen court. It is a dangerous mission; other envoys40 have been sent and been murdered. The Peers, however, volunteer, beginning with the aged41 Naismes, the Nestor of the Franks. His offer is not accepted, nor are those of Oliver, Roland, and Turpin. Roland then proposes that Ganelon shall be sent; and hence arises the Wrath of Ganelon, which was the ruin of Roland and the peers who stood by him. The warriors attack each other in speeches of Homeric fury. Charles preserves his dignity, and Ganelon departs on his mission. He deliberately42 sells himself, and seals the fate of the peers whom he detests43: the surprise of the rearguard under Roland, the deadly battle, and the revenge of Charles make up the rest of the poem. Not even in victory is Charles allowed repose44; the trumpet45 again summons him to war. He is of those whom Heaven has called to endless combat —
“Their whole lives long to be winding46
Skeins of grievous wars, till every soul of them perish,”
in the words of Diomede.
Such is the picture of the imperial Charles in one of the oldest of the French epics. The heart of the poet is with the aged, but unbroken and truly imperial, figure of St. Charlemagne — wise, just, and brave, a true “shepherd of the people,” regarded as the conqueror47 of all the known kingdoms of the world. He is, among his fierce paladins, like “the conscience of a knight among his warring members.” “The greatness of Charlemagne has entered even into his name;” but as time went on and the feudal48 princes began the long struggle against the French king, the poets gratified their patrons by degrading the character of the Emperor. They created a second type of Charles, and it is the second type that on the whole most resembles the Agamemnon of the Iliad.
We ask why the widely ruling lord of golden Mycenae is so skilfully49 and persistently50 represented as respectable, indeed, by reason of his office, but detestable, on the whole, in character?
The answer is that just as the second type of Charles is the result of feudal jealousies51 of the king, so the character of Agamemnon reflects the princely hatreds52 of what we may call the feudal age of Greece. The masterly portrait of Agamemnon could only have been designed to win the sympathies of feudal listeners, princes with an Over–Lord whom they cannot repudiate53, for whose office they have a traditional reverence54, but whose power they submit to with no good will, and whose person and character some of them can barely tolerate.
The unity55 of the Iliad is an historical unity. The poem deals with what may be called a feudal society, and the attitudes of the Achaean Bretwalda and of his peers are, from beginning to end of the Iliad and in every Book of it, those of the peers and king in the later Chansons de Geste.
Returning to the decadent Charles of the French epics, we lay no stress on the story of his incest with his sister, Gilain, “whence sprang Roland.” The House of Thyestes, whence Agamemnon sprang, is marked by even blacker legends. The scandal is mythical56, like the same scandal about the King Arthur, who in romance is so much inferior to his knights57, a reflection of feudal jealousies and hatreds. In places the reproaches hurled58 by the peers at Charles read like paraphrases59 of those which the Achaean princes cast at Agamemnon. Even Naismes, the Nestor of the French epics, cries: “It is for you that we have left our lands and fiefs, our fair wives and our children . . . But, by the Apostle to whom they pray in Rome, were it not that we should be guilty before God we would go back to sweet France, and thin would be your host.” 373 In the lines quoted we seem to hear the voice of the angered Achilles: “We came not hither in our own quarrel, thou shameless one, but to please thee! But now go I back to Phthia with my ships — the better part.” 374
Agamemnon answers that Zeus is on his side, just as even the angry Naismes admits that duty to God demands obedience60 to Charles. There cannot be parallels more close and true than these, between poems born at a distance from each other of more than two thousand years, but born in similar historical conditions.
In Guide Bourgogne, a poem of the twelfth century, Ogier cries, “They say that Charlemagne is the conqueror of kingdoms: they lie, it is Roland who conquers them with Oliver, Naismes of the long beard, and myself. As to Charles, he eats.” Compare Achilles to Agamemnon, “Thou, heavy with wine, with dog’s eyes and heart of deer, never hast thou dared to arm thee for war with the host . . . ” 375 It is Achilles or Roland who stakes his life in war and captures cities; it is Agamemnon or Charles who camps by the wine. Charles, in the Chanson de Saisnes, abases61 himself before Herapois, even more abjectly62 than Agamemnon in his offer of atonement to Achilles. 376 Charles is as arrogant63 as Agamemnon: he strikes Roland with his glove, for an uncommanded victory, and then he loses heart and weeps as copiously64 as the penitent65 Agamemnon often does when he rues66 his arrogance67. 377
The poet of the Iliad is a great and sober artist. He does not make Agamemnon endure the lowest disgraces which the latest French epic poets heap on Charles. But we see how close is the parallel between Agamemnon and the Charles of the decadent type. Both characters are reflections of feudal jealousy68 of the Over–Lord; both reflect real antique historical conditions, and these were the conditions of the Achaeans in Europe, not of the Ionians in Asia.
The treatment of Agamemnon’s character is harmonious69 throughout. It is not as if in “the original poem” Agamemnon were revered70 like St. Charlemagne in the Chanson de Roland, and in the “later” parts of the Iliad were reduced to the contemptible71 estate of the Charles of the decadent Chanson de Geste. In the Iliad Agamemnon’s character is consistently presented from beginning to end, presented, I think, as it could only be by a great poet of the feudal Achaean society in Europe. The Ionians —“democratic to the core,” says Mr. Leaf — would either have taken no interest in the figure of the Over–Lord, or would have utterly72 degraded him below the level of the Charles of the latest Chansons. Or the late rhapsodists, in their irresponsible lays, would have presented a wavering and worthless portrait.
The conditions under which the Chansons arose were truly parallel to the conditions under which the Homeric poems arose, and the poems, French and Achaean, are also true parallels, except in genius. The French have no Homer: cared vate sacro. It follows that a Homer was necessary to the evolution of the Greek epics.
It may, perhaps, be replied to this argument that our Iliad is only a very late remaniement, like the fourteenth century Chansons de Geste, of something much earlier and nobler. But in France, in the age of remaniement, even the versification had changed from assonance to rhyme, from the decasyllabic line to the Alexandrine in the decadence, while a plentiful73 lack of seriousness and a love of purely74 fanciful adventures in fairyland take the place of the austere75 spirit of war. Ladies “in a coming on humour” abound, and Charles is involved with his Paladins in gauloiseries of a Rabelaisian cast. The French language has become a new thing through and through, and manners and weapons are of a new sort; but the high seriousness of the Iliad is maintained throughout, except in the burlesque76 battle of the gods: the versification is the stately hexameter, linguistic77 alterations78 are present, extant, but inconspicuous. That the armour79 and weapons are uniform in character throughout we have tried to prove, while the state of society and of religion is certainly throughout harmonious. Our parallel, then, between the French and the Greek national epics appears as perfect as such a thing can be, surprisingly perfect, while the great point of difference in degree of art is accounted for by the existence of an Achaean poet of supreme80 genius. Not such, certainly, were the composers of the Cyclic poems, men contemporary with the supposed later poets of the Iliad.
1 derive | |
v.取得;导出;引申;来自;源自;出自 | |
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2 epic | |
n.史诗,叙事诗;adj.史诗般的,壮丽的 | |
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3 epics | |
n.叙事诗( epic的名词复数 );壮举;惊人之举;史诗般的电影(或书籍) | |
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4 artistic | |
adj.艺术(家)的,美术(家)的;善于艺术创作的 | |
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5 warriors | |
武士,勇士,战士( warrior的名词复数 ) | |
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6 warrior | |
n.勇士,武士,斗士 | |
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7 dwelling | |
n.住宅,住所,寓所 | |
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8 fealty | |
n.忠贞,忠节 | |
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9 odyssey | |
n.长途冒险旅行;一连串的冒险 | |
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10 legendary | |
adj.传奇(中)的,闻名遐迩的;n.传奇(文学) | |
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11 foes | |
敌人,仇敌( foe的名词复数 ) | |
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12 machinery | |
n.(总称)机械,机器;机构 | |
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13 Vogue | |
n.时髦,时尚;adj.流行的 | |
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14 genealogies | |
n.系谱,家系,宗谱( genealogy的名词复数 ) | |
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15 decadence | |
n.衰落,颓废 | |
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16 maker | |
n.制造者,制造商 | |
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17 solitary | |
adj.孤独的,独立的,荒凉的;n.隐士 | |
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18 ply | |
v.(搬运工等)等候顾客,弯曲 | |
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19 decadent | |
adj.颓废的,衰落的,堕落的 | |
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20 illuminated | |
adj.被照明的;受启迪的 | |
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21 privately | |
adv.以私人的身份,悄悄地,私下地 | |
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22 corroborated | |
v.证实,支持(某种说法、信仰、理论等)( corroborate的过去式 ) | |
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23 milieu | |
n.环境;出身背景;(个人所处的)社会环境 | |
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24 dealing | |
n.经商方法,待人态度 | |
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25 recurring | |
adj.往复的,再次发生的 | |
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26 epithets | |
n.(表示性质、特征等的)词语( epithet的名词复数 ) | |
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27 exquisite | |
adj.精美的;敏锐的;剧烈的,感觉强烈的 | |
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28 abound | |
vi.大量存在;(in,with)充满,富于 | |
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29 profuse | |
adj.很多的,大量的,极其丰富的 | |
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30 knight | |
n.骑士,武士;爵士 | |
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31 shears | |
n.大剪刀 | |
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32 slain | |
杀死,宰杀,杀戮( slay的过去分词 ); (slay的过去分词) | |
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33 wrath | |
n.愤怒,愤慨,暴怒 | |
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34 wrangling | |
v.争吵,争论,口角( wrangle的现在分词 ) | |
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35 strife | |
n.争吵,冲突,倾轧,竞争 | |
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36 interval | |
n.间隔,间距;幕间休息,中场休息 | |
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37 heartily | |
adv.衷心地,诚恳地,十分,很 | |
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38 prevailing | |
adj.盛行的;占优势的;主要的 | |
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39 envoy | |
n.使节,使者,代表,公使 | |
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40 envoys | |
使节( envoy的名词复数 ); 公使; 谈判代表; 使节身份 | |
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41 aged | |
adj.年老的,陈年的 | |
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42 deliberately | |
adv.审慎地;蓄意地;故意地 | |
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43 detests | |
v.憎恶,嫌恶,痛恨( detest的第三人称单数 ) | |
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44 repose | |
v.(使)休息;n.安息 | |
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45 trumpet | |
n.喇叭,喇叭声;v.吹喇叭,吹嘘 | |
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46 winding | |
n.绕,缠,绕组,线圈 | |
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47 conqueror | |
n.征服者,胜利者 | |
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48 feudal | |
adj.封建的,封地的,领地的 | |
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49 skilfully | |
adv. (美skillfully)熟练地 | |
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50 persistently | |
ad.坚持地;固执地 | |
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51 jealousies | |
n.妒忌( jealousy的名词复数 );妒羡 | |
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52 hatreds | |
n.仇恨,憎恶( hatred的名词复数 );厌恶的事 | |
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53 repudiate | |
v.拒绝,拒付,拒绝履行 | |
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54 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 | |
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55 unity | |
n.团结,联合,统一;和睦,协调 | |
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56 mythical | |
adj.神话的;虚构的;想像的 | |
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57 knights | |
骑士; (中古时代的)武士( knight的名词复数 ); 骑士; 爵士; (国际象棋中)马 | |
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58 hurled | |
v.猛投,用力掷( hurl的过去式和过去分词 );大声叫骂 | |
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59 paraphrases | |
n.释义,意译( paraphrase的名词复数 )v.释义,意译( paraphrase的第三人称单数 ) | |
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60 obedience | |
n.服从,顺从 | |
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61 abases | |
使谦卑( abase的第三人称单数 ); 使感到羞耻; 使降低(地位、身份等); 降下 | |
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62 abjectly | |
凄惨地; 绝望地; 糟透地; 悲惨地 | |
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63 arrogant | |
adj.傲慢的,自大的 | |
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64 copiously | |
adv.丰富地,充裕地 | |
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65 penitent | |
adj.后悔的;n.后悔者;忏悔者 | |
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66 rues | |
v.对…感到后悔( rue的第三人称单数 ) | |
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67 arrogance | |
n.傲慢,自大 | |
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68 jealousy | |
n.妒忌,嫉妒,猜忌 | |
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69 harmonious | |
adj.和睦的,调和的,和谐的,协调的 | |
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70 revered | |
v.崇敬,尊崇,敬畏( revere的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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71 contemptible | |
adj.可鄙的,可轻视的,卑劣的 | |
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72 utterly | |
adv.完全地,绝对地 | |
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73 plentiful | |
adj.富裕的,丰富的 | |
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74 purely | |
adv.纯粹地,完全地 | |
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75 austere | |
adj.艰苦的;朴素的,朴实无华的;严峻的 | |
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76 burlesque | |
v.嘲弄,戏仿;n.嘲弄,取笑,滑稽模仿 | |
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77 linguistic | |
adj.语言的,语言学的 | |
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78 alterations | |
n.改动( alteration的名词复数 );更改;变化;改变 | |
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79 armour | |
(=armor)n.盔甲;装甲部队 | |
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80 supreme | |
adj.极度的,最重要的;至高的,最高的 | |
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