IT is certainly very good to be ashore1 again, and moreover to me Colombo is a pleasure that never palls2. It is astonishing how little is changed; every thing seems just as when we left it last. The same coolies, the same barges3, the same impulsive4 tongues jabbering5 all round us. The same boatmen shriek6 and quarrel in our honour, the same money-changers offer us a small but appreciative7 welcome; and when we leave the landing place and enter the street, to find the rickshaw coolies, just as of old, sitting on their shafts8, chewing betel-nut and chattering9 in the well-remembered fashion, we begin to believe we have never been away at all.
A little naked beggar boy runs beside us, flicking11 his plump sides, and imploring12 backsheesh in heart-rending tones, till we say something in the vernacular13 which causes him to flee and curse us in safety from afar; then some one playing with a mongoose in a corner, hearing what has passed, looks up with a grin which is so full of sympathy that we know and feel we are at home once more.
Now, if there is one place in this world more than another where sooner or later, if you but exercise patience, you shall meet whomsoever you wish, the name of that place is the Grand Oriental, Colombo. Into this caravanserai, day and night, clatter14 men and women from the uttermost parts of the earth. Dining in the great saloon, or smoking in the verandah, one may meet and converse15 with yellow-skinned tea men from Hong Kong, grey-bearded squatters from Australia, keen-eyed merchants from Japan, pink and white tourists from England, pearlers from Torres Straits, and explorers and adventurers from everywhere this side of the great Unknown. They arrive today, to depart tomorrow, and as they say ‘goodbye,’ more come to take their places. And so the everlasting17 game goes forward, but the Grand Oriental changes not.
The first thing to be done on arrival is to secure rooms, and after this is accomplished19, to enjoy a bath. The water is refreshingly20 clear and cool, and the view from the bathroom window overlooking the hotel garden, is as beautiful as anything to be found in the East. Here, palms of seemingly endless variety, graceful21 ferns, brilliant yellow and purple hibiscus, tamarinds, and the fragrant22 champac, grow side by side in grandest luxuriance, while beneath their shelter thrive begonias, bromelias, fuchsias, petunias23, and countless24 varieties of flowering plants. Through this exquisite25 tracery look in the roofs of houses, each with its tiles of different tint26; a perfume of flowers suggestive of the Lotos Isles27 comes with the view, and the cloudless sapphire28 sky crowns all.
Dressed again, there are many old friends to be visited: friends who, though living in the midst of ever changing faces, seem never to forget. Two there are in the main street, Mahommedans both, and dealers29 in precious stones. Immediately we appear, touts30 from all the shops surround us, imploring our patronage31 for their respective masters; but our friends suddenly sight us, and though it is years since we saw them last, remember us instantly, and dash out to disperse32 the noisy crowd, and to beg us to take seats inside their shop, that they may make us welcome in proper form.
This proper form is without any attempt at business, and takes the shape of lemon — squash and sweetmeats, mixed up with many compliments and recollections of bygone days.
Thence we pass on to another and yet another, always with the same kindly33 welcome greeting us. Before we have paid our last call, the sun is down, and it is time to return to dinner.
After our al fresco34 meals on board ship, a real dinner, well cooked, and served on china and clean linen35, with its accompanying glass and silver, has a peculiar36 charm. We linger over each course, pay befitting attention to a dish of mangoes, and finally come to an anchor, with cigars, in the broad verandah, where white-robed servants move silently about, attentive37 to our wants.
The noises of the streets are hushed. An almost painful quiet reigns39. The subdued40 chatter10 of a knot of rickshaw coolies, across the road, blends so harmoniously41 with the starlight, that the cries of the boatmen, from among the myriad42 harbour lights, come almost as a relief to the general stillness. A man in a neighbouring chair says sleepily to his companion, ‘My dear fellow! I know the whole facts of the case — he got into trouble with one of the rajahs, and shot himself for a Lucknow dancing girl.’ Trying to imagine the rest of the story gives me a waking nightmare. But even their voices gradually drop down, till at peace with all the world we climb the cool stone stairs to our respective chambers44, and almost before our heads touch the pillows, are sound asleep.
Of all hours of the twenty-four in tropical countries, there can be no doubt that those of the early morning are the most enjoyable. Rising with the day and turning out, pyjama clad, into the divisioned verandah of my room, to watch the city coming back to life, and the sun appearing like a giant refreshed above the fluted46 tiles of the house-tops is to me a pleasure always new. And again I like the Indian and Cinghalese fashion of serving the Chota-hazare in one’s bedroom verandah. To sit,’ cat, and watch the crowds of natives pass chattering by to their daily occupations, and whilst so doing to ward18 off the onslaught of voracious47 crows, is an experience one will not soon forget. Anything like the impudence48 and persistent49 thieving of these abandoned birds, I have never met with elsewhere.
Void of shame and moral responsibilities, deaf to entreaties50, threats, and expostulations, they carry on their nefarious51 trade unabashed. Happen but for one moment to turn from your breakfast table, and a marauder swoops52 down, with the result that your choicest morsel53 is gone. You are amazed, but it does not strike you as anything to be annoyed at, in fact you think it rather amusing than otherwise, and butter another. Then your next door neighbour appears in his verandah and wishes you good morning. You turn for a moment to reply to him, —— a flutter of wings, a caw of triumph, and your second tit-bit has gone the way of the first. Then, if you are properly constituted, you become annoyed. but while you are arranging your feelings, another brigand54, with a deep design in his heart, of which you, poor innocent, have no idea, flutters down and perches55 on the verandah rail.
‘Ha, ha! my friend!’ you chuckle56, ‘you shall pay for this,’ and resolving to annihilate57 him on the spot, you dash into your bedroom for a stick. But this, believe me, is exactly what he wants. He has lured58 you from your guard, and when you return it is to find that the remainder of your breakfast has flown to a neighbouring house-top. Noting your discomfiture59, half a dozen miscreants61 assemble on an adjacent tree, and perform a paean62 of victory, the theme of which seems to be somewhat after this fashion:
Tenors63. ‘Caw, caw! got him again!’
Basses64 (with marvellous regard for time). ‘Caw, caw, caw! We’ve got him, we’ve got him, we've got him, got, got, got him again!’
Being new at the game, you shake your fist at them, and while wondering if you shall order some more breakfast, run up the scale of your abusive vocabulary.
But at this juncture65 the native barber appears with his case of razors and a lime, which latter, as it is Christmas week, he begs you will accept as his gift, and so your thoughts are distracted. While shaving you (and this is shaving, not tomahawking), he recalls the fact that he had the honour of performing the same service for you ten years ago. Further than that, he may possibly be able to set you right as to the room you then occupied, the day you arrived, and the boat by which your honour sailed. You are visibly filled with wonder, but say nothing lest you prove how little worthy66 of such remembrance you are.
When you have breakfasted, the most instructive way to spend a Colombo morning, unless your soul hankers after conjurors and cobra fights, is to wander past Slave Island, with its picturesque67 lagoon68 and groves69 of palm trees, past blind beggars, sweetmeat sellers, and story tellers70, to the native quarter of Pettah.
image
In this locality — the Whitechapel of Colombo — one is for the first time brought face to face with the true native element. Here may be seen as strange a mixture of races, as will be found anywhere in the East. Humanity of every hue71, shape, and dress, crowds the narrow streets: Arabs in flowing burnous; Mahommedans with baggy72 breeches and high conical hats; Cinghalese dandies in petticoats and European jackets (their glossy73 black hair neatly74 rolled up in feminine fashion behind the head, and surmounted75 with an enormous tortoise-shell comb); Tamuls in loin cloths and naught76 else but the burnished77 livery of the sun; yellow-robed Buddhist78 priests, Kandyans, Malays, and in fact representatives of every Eastern nationality, all intent upon their own business, and nearly all chewing betel-nut.
To a modest man, in whose education the little peculiarities79 of Eastern customs have formed no part, I can imagine that many of the sights crowded into these streets would be extremely painful. Years ago, we ourselves, unconscious in our innocence80, entered the quarter on the one side, to leave it on the other with a blush that had soaked through our skin deep into our underclothing. But since then we have learnt many things, and false modesty81 has been crowded out. With the natives themselves it is a case of ‘Honi soit qui mal y pense.’ And all things considered, perhaps it is just as well.
After the native quarter, the Cinnamon Gardens, with their sister quarter of Colpetty, where the fashionable bungalows82 are situated83, are most worth seeing. It would be impossible for an amateur word-painter like myself to do adequate justice to the beauties of the scenery hereabouts: but let me try.
The roads are of a deep vermilion colour, bordered on either side by grassy84 banks, flowering shrubs85, rustling86 bamboos, and trees whose boundless87 wealth of blossom intermingling overhead throws a kindly shade upon the passing wayfarer88. Elegant bungalows, and Vandyke brown huts, peep out from gardens little short of heavenly, and now and again, through the open doors of these said huts, glimpses may be obtained of the little housewife inside, cumbered like Martha with much serving; while, outside, her tiny brown offspring roll and tumble in the roads, in the full enjoyment89 of their lives, but in constant peril90 from passing vehicles.
On the principle, that to be in Ceylon and to see only Colombo, is folly91; to be in Ceylon and see Colombo and Kandy, is sense; but to be in Ceylon, and see Colombo, Kandy, and the ancient ruins of Anuradhapura is complete wisdom, we decide to make tracks for Kandy, and thence to attempt to get on to the last named city as best we can.
The train for Kandy, seventy-five miles distant, starts at seven thirty a.m. and is due to arrive about eleven thirty the same morning, I emphasise92 the latter fact, for the reason that many people decline to believe it, and the inference that the railway authorities are not reckless in the speed of the trains is apt to be misleading. They (both the authorities and the trains) believe in going slow, and at least we can consistently pay them the compliment of saying that they act up to their belief. If you should have a business appointment in Kandy, it would be better to walk than to train, otherwise you certainly won’t keep it.
The trains themselves are pretty toys, with engines built to the Indian gauge93, and carriages like pill-boxes; the officials are elaborate individuals, gorgeously upholstered and fully94 conscious of their own importance.
Having secured our tickets and places, we start. The speed at first is almost desperate, possibly twenty-five miles an hour. The line runs over marshy95 padi fields, interspersed96 with lovely clumps97 of jungle. Now and again we cross roads where the native keeper, with all the fuss of an important government official, waves his flag until we are out of sight, and then retires, to rest and be admired, until the time arrives for him to perform the same function for the evening train.
About half-past nine we leave Rambukana behind us (the names are as delightful98 as the country) and commence our ascent99, wriggling100 like a gigantic snake through scenery that would hold the veriest pagan spell-bound. No words put on paper, could give an idea of a thousandth part of its beauty. Waterfalls, ravines, forest vistas101, ferns and creepers greet the eye in bewildering confusion at every turn. The nearest thing to a description would perhaps be the utterance102 of a fair young American, who, in company with her husband or lover, shares our carriage, and for five minutes (the only five minutes throughout the journey) has sat spell-bound. ‘Jim,’ she says, in an awed103 whisper, ‘if you ask me, I reckon that fairly licks creation.’ And so it does!
Zigzagging104 up and up, here, there, and everywhere, one moment passing through thick forests, only the next to leap out on to the bald face of mountains, we obtain views of the lovely misty105 valley beneath us, and of other peaks stretching still further to the southward.
But the acme106 of all is attained107, when we open out on to Sensation Rock, so called from being the place where the Kings of Kandy were wont108 to throw their prisoners over in days gone by. (What a pleasant sensation it must have been for the folk thrown over!) Here on one side, the masses of overhanging rock seem certain to fall upon and crush us; while on the other, we can look down, nigh upon two thousand feet, sheer drop, into the valley below. It is indeed a sight to be remembered, but the sensations produced are not as enjoyable as they might be. To my fancy, it is too much like hanging by the tips of one’s fingers from the cross of St. Paul’s, to be really pleasant.
Further along the line we come to Peredeniya, famous for its botanical gardens, to reach which a bridge must be crossed, over the Mahawella Ganga, having one span of something like seven hundred feet. These gardens are among the most celebrated109 in the world, and boast many and extraordinary botanical treasures, among others the lovely Thunbergia creeper, and a magnificent avenue of India-rubber trees (Ficus elastica.)
Shortly after eleven thirty, satiated with scenic110 loveliness, we reach our destination, the ancient capital of Ceylon. Kandy, once the residence of kings, situated about sixteen hundred feet above sea level, in a sort of mountain cup, surrounded by hills, can, however, only claim to have been the capital of the island for about the last three hundred years. Before she came into being, the principal city and seat of government, was Polonarua. now a vast ruin, situated far away in the north, and famed in history as a city of marvellous beauty and splendour. Yet again, this wonderful place cannot claim to be the oldest, for going still further back, even as far as to five hundred years before the Christian111 era, we find in the ancient chronicles of the Buddhists112, mention made of a still greater city, named Anuradhapura: a city which even up to very late years has been regarded as almost mythical113, but the ruins of which, situated about ninety miles due north, now He open for all the world to visit.
On arrival in Kandy, we make haste to see all that is to be seen. Our first visit is to the Palace of the Kings, a building wearing a decidedly European air, accounted for by the fact that it was built by the Portuguese114, when they held the island in about the year sixteen hundred. It has, of course, long since lost its ancient use, and is now reserved only for government purposes. Standing115 on the edge of a lovely lake, it looks away across the blue waters towards the Matale Hills, where Hunasgeriya Peak shows faintly through the clouds. The view from the terrace is one that will not soon be forgotten.
In the centre of the lake is a tiny island, now used as a government powder magazine, which, in days gone by, had the honour of being the king’s harem, and about which, if one cares to believe all one hears, many curious stories are related.
At no great distance from the palace stands the far-famed Maligawa Dalada, or the Buddhist temple of the Sacred Tooth; a spot which marks to the followers116 of that religion, one, if not the most sacred, of the many sacred spots upon the island. From the outside it presents few attractive features, and the prospect117 on entering is gloomy and sombre in the extreme. The dresses of the priests and pilgrims, and the never failing supply of flowers on the altars, are the only touches of colour in the scene. But when the visitor has penetrated118 fairly into the heart of the building, all this is changed. Suddenly, and without warning, he is brought face to face with a staggering fortune, in the shape of a solid silver door, set in carved ivory. This door opens into a small inner chamber45, where stands a table of the same precious metal, fronting the first sacred shrine119. Within this shrine are five others, all blazing with gems120 and goldwork. Inside the innermost shrine of all, resting on a lotus leaf of pure gold, lies the most sacred relic121 of Buddhism122 — the tooth of Buddha123.
Strange to say, considering the veneration124 paid to it, it is neither the tooth of Buddha, nor the tooth of anyone else, but is simply, so it is said, a molar of human workmanship, and a very bad molar at that. Once every year this sacred relic is exposed to the gaze of the vulgar, but only for the space of a few seconds. For the rest of the time it reposes125 upon, what is of much more value, its lotus leaf of gold. In the temple is also treasured the sacred alms pot about which so many strange yarns126 have been invented. We wanted to handle all these things for ourselves — particularly the silver door, and the lotus leaf of gold — but the authorities seemed disinclined to permit it. I suppose they had good and sufficient reasons for their refusal.
To me the most striking part of the whole affair was the priest who showed us round. He was small and spare, with glittering, dark eyes, a shaven head, and an odour of his own. He wore a coarse yellow robe turned back over the shoulder, leaving the right breast bare. From this exposure I argued that a good bath would have done him no harm.
These priests are purely127 a mendicant128 order, and are popularly supposed to live only on what is given them by the people, to eat no flesh, and to consume what things they do partake of before noon. Moreover, they are compelled to practise celibacy129, and it is one of the rules of their order that they shall carry a fan, in order that they may cover their eyes when passing such vanities as women. Their duties are to keep the temple spick and span (in which they certainly fail), to conduct the services, and to watch the sacred lamp, which, year in, year out, must constantly be kept burning. In their odd moments they go out into the highways and byways in search of provender130.
Having explored Kandy to our satisfaction, we made up our minds, with a gravity befitting such an important undertaking131, and determined132 to try for the ruined city of Anuradhapura, located in the jungle, about ninety miles due north. Accordingly, once more commending ourselves to Providence133 and the railway commissioners134 of Ceylon, we set off, and duly landed at Matale, a straggling little town (once a royal residence), whence, at intervals135, a coach runs to Damboola, another town of considerable importance. We found this latter place, after a lovely drive through mountain gorges136, situated at the base of an immense dark red crag, of curious shape, rising to a height of about five hundred feet, at the junction137 of the plain country with the mountains. From the crag a superb view may be obtained of the green sea of jungle stretching away to the northward138, and of the varied139 coloured valleys which lie behind it. It was in this northern jungle that we were to seek the cities of the dead.
Evidently there must be some life in that mysterious region, for on inquiry140 we were informed, by an ancient of the place, that Her Majesty’s royal mail was daily despatched to the district, and moreover, that the coach would leave Damboola precisely142 at sundown. Being of a garrulous143 nature, our informant went on to say, that should we desire it, we could, by payment of an extra fee, retain the whole coach for our own special and private use. As this seemed the only way of reaching Anuradhapura, we were compelled to avail ourselves of it, and to leave unvisited what we so much desired to see, the famous cave temples of Damboola.
To have the grandeur144 and dignity of Her Majesty’s mail entirely145 for ourselves was too great a temptation to resist, so accordingly, giving our friend the wherewithal, we bade him retain it for us, and continued our inspection146 of the township, conscious of our increased importance.
Shortly before sundown we were back again in the main street, awaiting the arrival of the coach, and momentarily expecting the blast of the horn and the appearance round the corner of the four prancing147 bays. Five minutes went by, ten minutes, and even a quarter of an hour, and still no sign of our equipage. Visions of deception148 and appropriated money began to flit before our eyes; we gazed with suspicion upon our native adviser149, who with many salaams150 continued to inform us that it would be here instantly without fail!
Just as our patience was giving way, there appeared round the corner a shabby old bullock bandy, drawn151 by a couple of trotting153 bullocks, and driven by a native scarecrow pitiful to behold154.
Our friend’s satisfaction knew no bounds.
‘Sahibs!’ he said, ‘see, it is here. Her Majesty’s mail!’
Down toppled our pride like a house of cards.
‘What!’ we shrieked155, ‘do you mean to tell us that that old go-cart is Her Majesty’s mail, and that you suppose we glorious Sahibs from a far country are going to ride all night in that old hearse? No, my ancient, take our advice and trot152 out your Oxford156 “High-flyer,” or there will be serious trouble in the camp.’
But it was no use arguing, he only nodded his head like a mandarin157, and repeated continually.
‘Her Majesty’s mail-cart; very superb and much magnificent!’
Putting our dignities in our pockets, we proceeded to stow ourselves in with the mailbags, feeling that there was every prospect of our passing a picturesque and horrible night. But we did not start.
Inquiring the meaning of the delay, we were informed that the mail could not be despatched until the arrival of the mailman, who presently, in the shape of a villanously scarred and half obliterated158 Tamul, unclad save for a loin cloth, made his appearance. Bound his neck was suspended a peculiar bugle160, evidently his badge of office. While regarding it, we felt constrained161 to say to him: ‘Sonny! we’re grateful to you for your thoughtfulness, but while travelling it is our custom to make our own music; perhaps the mayor of the town or the custodian162 of the museum would take charge of that relic till you come back. Leave it, we implore163 you.’
But he paid no attention, only rolled his betel-nut, spat141 on and annihilated164 a caterpillar165, then gave the signal to start. The driver roused up his team, two curs intended to run after us and bark but thought better of it, and presently we were dashing down the jungle track at a comparatively furious pace. Dangling166 our legs over the tailboard we silently contemplated167 nature, and wondered what would happen if the bottom of the cart fell out, or a tiger should pounce168 upon us by the way. But neither of these things happened, and we soon discovered that the only adventure we need fear was an insane desire for music on the part of the mailman. He was an enthusiast169, and even rupees wouldn’t stop him; he took them, and blew the harder.
Save when the stars managed to get a look at us through the overhanging foliage170, the night was dark as pitch. The thick jungle on either hand loomed171 black and lonesome, and despite the beauty of the fireflies flitting through the picturesque Mana grass, it needed very little imagination to conjure172 up the near presence of all sorts of horrible and noxious173 animals. Presently the moon rose, and her coming developed a fairy-like picture that was more like the transformation174 scene in a pantomime than anything else.
Every six miles we came upon a cluster of native habitations built on clearings in the dense175 Chenar jungle. Apparently176 they had no business there but the production of a fresh pair of bullocks in exchange for our jaded177 beasts. These villages were always a surprise to us. The first intimation we received of our approach to them was a long and furious blast of the mailman’s horn, a peculiar and melancholy178 music, ventriloqual in its effect. I call it ventriloqual because there was no possible chance of locating it. It seemed to start from somewhere in the region of the axle, then to sneak179 off into the jungle, to finally come back upon us in q, caterwaulish moan from the trees overhead. Twice we bore it without complaint; then, encouraged perhaps by the fact that he was still alive, he attempted a single variation — only one: just a short heart-rending scream, followed by a long-drawn sob180. Before, however, he was properly through with it we were upon him, shaking our fists in his face and daring him under threats of instant death to attempt such a thing again. He retreated to the side of the driver, whence ever and anon he cast suspicious glances in our direction. Personally, I never contemplated murder with such equanimity181 before.
So the night wore on. Every hour found us, by reason of our cramped182 positions, growing more and more stiff and tired. First one leg went to sleep, then the other; then we developed internal pains, and began to realise what it must be to have cramp183 in the stomach, liver disease, rheumatism184, and lumbago, all at once and all in aggravated185 forms. Every time we stopped to change bullocks, we got down and stamped around in the hope of introducing a little, circulation into our blood, but no sooner were we back in our places than the old pains recommenced, and kept us waiting in speechless agony for the end of the next six miles. Finally, we both dropped off into an uneasy doze60.
But we were not destined186 to enjoy this long, for the sudden stoppage of the cart, together with a shriek so awful, so full of human suffering, brought us instantly wide awake again, quaking in an ecstasy187 of terror. Leaping to the ground, we turned to see what had happened, fully expecting to find two or three natives in deadly peril, or, at the very least, three children run over by the cart. Day was just breaking and we looked and looked, but only a few native huts peering out of the mist and a couple of bullocks placidly188 awaiting our arrival, were to be seen. Then we noticed our mailman edging away to a safe distance, and the fact slowly dawned upon us that, taking advantage of our slumbers189, he had again been giving vent16 to his uncontrollable musical ambition. Registering a vow190 to exterminate191 him on the first convenient opportunity, we retook our places and proceeded.
An hour later the sun was high above the tree tops, innumerable birds fluttered through the jungle or flew screaming across our path, monkeys of all sizes and in all stages of imbecility passed the time of day to us from the trees, while above all, not more than three miles distant, towered a monstrous192 dome193, the Dagoba of Abhayagiri, built nearly a hundred years before the birth of Christ. By this we knew that we were in sight of Anuradhapura.
The present appearance of this far-famed city is, to say the least of it, disappointing. In the first place a thriving modern village, with a court-house, a government rest-house, and a population of 1,500 souls, stands upon what must once have been the very centre of the vast metropolis194. We drew up before the rest-house.
Now a rest-house is not always a synonym195 for comfort, but it has at least the advantage of being a government institution, and as such, it is a matter of instant dismissal for the landlord if he be found guilty of either incivility or extortion. By his agreement he is compelled to find accommodation for travellers for three days at a fixed196 rate, and on this score we had no reason to be dissatisfied.
A bath and breakfast having been attended to, we hunted up authorities, and, before starting on our voyage of discovery, satisfied ourselves as to the best things to see first.
When one considers that these scattered197 ruins are all that remain of a city whose size was fifty-two miles in circumference198, or, in other words, sixteen miles across from gate to gate, covering a space of 256 square miles, some vague idea will be gained of the power of time to obliterate159, and a city to crumble199 away.
With commendable200 zeal201 the government of Ceylon has taken up the exploration of these ruins, and the result is that under the superintendence of an able archaeologist, a large amount of interesting and valuable work has been accomplished.
The most striking and characteristic of the buildings of Anuradhapura are the lofty Dagobas1 whose domes202 rise high into the heavens on every hand. In construction they are simply gigantic masses of red brickwork, hemispherical in shape, intended originally to act as receptacles for sacred remains203. Round these monster buildings, between the stones of which innumerable trees have taken root, run platforms of masonry204, while here and there tiny shrines205 have been arranged, before which offerings of flowers are continually deposited.
1 From ddy a relic, and geha, a receptacle.
The principal Dagobas are the Ruaniwelle (signifying gold dust), one hundred and fifty feet high, standing on a terrace commanding a fine view of the city, and according to the chronicles, built by one Gaimono B.C. 150. The Thuparamaya, built B.C. 500, and intended for the reception of Buddha’s collar-bone; the Jaitawanarama, once three hundred and fifteen feet high, but now barely two hundred and sixty, erected206 a.d. 310; and the Abhayagiri (fortress of safety), B.C. 87. This latter, perhaps the finest of .all, was built to commemorate207 a national victory, and stood no less than four hundred and ten feet high, or equal to the tallest cathedral spire208 in England. At the base it is nearly four hundred feet in diameter, and it is computed209 to contain nearly twenty million feet of masonry.
Leaving the great Dagobas we find ourselves surrounded by massive ruins, broken pillars, formless blocks of masonry, delicately traced and fluted columns, and sarcophagi of all descriptions, mixed up in hopeless confusion with rude stone figures of bulls and elephants. Returning to the back of our rest-house, we again hunt up authorities, and discover the Lowa mahapaya, or Great Palace of Brass210, once the chief glory of this departed city, but the only remaining signs of it now are sixteen hundred columns of granite211, each twelve feet high and three feet thick, giving evidence of having once been beautifully spaced and arranged. Two centuries before Christ they formed part of a palace beside which many of our great buildings of the present day would be as naught. Built in the form of a square, with sides two hundred and thirty feet long, it was, so the chronicles affirm, nine stories high, and contained no less than one hundred rooms on each floor. For a roof it possessed212 a solid sheet of burnished brass, an item in itself which must have been a winking213 wonder for miles around. Today its grandeur has departed, and its brazen214 roof has vanished into the lumber-room of eternity215, the grandly frescoed216 walls have crumbled217 into dust, and where may once have stood the high priest’s throne of ivory, we found an old hen foraging218 for her chicks. And so perhaps, in the centuries yet unborn, when Time, the remorseless, has crushed between his fingers the grandeurs that today we think so imperishable, will an old hen scratch for her brood on the soil above the altar stones of Westminster. Overcome with the thought, we returned by way of Great King Street to our abode219 for tiffin.
After the meal, replacing our helmets, we started forth220 once more, this time to explore the greatest curiosity of all, the Temple of the Sacred Bo-tree. Here still flourishes what is beyond doubt the oldest known tree in the wide wide world. It was planted (so I am told by my never-failing friend, the Chronicle Mahawanso) by one Devenipiatissa, in the year B.C. 288, which gives it an age therefore of two thousand one hundred and eighty one years. Never has its wood been defiled221 by steel, and day after day and hour by hour the leaves, which must on no account be touched until they fall, are reverently222 gathered up by the everlasting stream of pilgrims visiting the shrine. According to the Buddhist belief, this tree was once part and parcel of the tree under which Gautama Buddha sat at the time of his death or apotheosis223. Standing in the centre of the topmost of three platforms of masonry and surrounded by an iron railing, its branches, tenderly supported, straggle and twine224 all over the courtyard. Yellow-robed priests watch beside it continually, and every possible care is taken to ensure its preservation225. Neatness is evidently not one of the obligations imposed upon the monks226, for the courtyard is strewn with offerings of rice, broken begging bowls, and fragments’ of lamps used at midnight worship, remembrances of the thousands of pilgrims who pass in and out of this holy place.
We of a far country and a far different religion, one whose age beside that of this ancient tree is as a poplar tree to a giant oak, stand and watch the ceaseless quivering of its leaves with an attempt to grasp something of its history. But it is impossible — the distance of time is too vast. As we look, the yellow-robed ministers of this ancient faith pass to and fro, their vestments contrasting artistically227 with the dull brickwork around them. On a high wall gorgeous peacocks preen228 themselves against the sun-light, while hordes229 of monkeys slip, busily chattering, from branch to branch, waiting for chances to descend230 and loot the offerings of the faithful.
On the whole, if one excepts the tree itself, the temple has little to recommend it, but to’ except the tree would be to liken it to Westminster Abbey without its monuments, and for this reason alone we will not criticise231 too closely. As we leave the building, a party of pilgrims approach the red-tiled gateway232, and raising their hands above their heads, cry in sacred greeting, ‘Sadhu! Sadhu! Sadhu!’ It was an impressive little incident — a fitting termination to our visit to the ancient shrine.
By this time the sun like a ball of red fire is resting on the tree-topped horizon, throwing long shafts of golden light through the ruined streets and upon the great Dagobas, till it seems to us that we are standing in the City of the Living Fire. An intense hush38 clasps everything, and this becomes even more marked when the sun sinks below the horizon. With his departure a strange chill creeps across the world, and we begin to feel that we are no longer in the city of the living fire, but really in the city of the dead.
We return to our abode, struggling with a feeling akin43 to sadness. It is Christmas Eve: a night for happy thoughts, a night on which to make merry with one’s friends. But is this a place for merry-making, with the destruction of twenty-four dead centuries around us? No! a thousand times no! So after dinner drawing our chairs into the verandah, and while waiting for the moon to rise, we sit and talk in hushed voices of the past, the great, mysterious past.
When with slow and stately progress the orb233 of night sails into the heavens, it is a ghostly scene that she illumines. We look across monster Dagobas,
Strange stone pillars, ruined masonry — monuments of a long dead age — towards the weird234, unearthly jungle. Hardly a sound disturbs the stillness. A few lamps twinkle here and there, and while we watch, as if to add still further to the feeling of intense loneliness, a solitary235 jackal lifts up his voice among the ruins and laments236 the passing of the world.
And what a city this must have been more than two thousand weary years ago. In the Mahawanso we read that it was a place of magnificent streets, the chief of which alone was computed to contain no less than eleven thousand houses. We are told that it had its temples in which, day and night, services were conducted with glorious pomp and pageantry. We know that it had its palace, whose great brazen roof shone like a jewelled casket in the sky, covering many hundred rooms inlaid with gold, silver, and ivory. We know that it had its places of mart and of amusement, its crowded streets, barracks, alms-houses, and public baths; and last of all we are told that it contained a population amounting to something like three million souls. Kings’ retinues237 marched along her public ways, religious processions were to be met with at every turn, and gorgeously caparisoned state elephants, with ponderous238 tread, swung through the crowds. Tradesmen cried their wares239, keen-eyed men of business jostled lovers blind to everyone and everything save themselves. And tonight, where are they all? Where are the kings and soldiers, the tradesmen, priests, men of business and lovers? Gone, gone, gone! disappeared into the great darkness behind the veil of time, at rest these twenty-four long centuries. And that city? What remains of her? Only a mass of irrecognisable ruins, through which the night winds moan and lonely jackals howl!
And yet above all, throwing strange shadows across the burnt-up earth, and smoothing with loving hand the ravages240 of time, looks down the moon, just as she gazed upon the city in its grandeur, so many hundred years ago. Silent and cold the goddess of night watches over these ruins, as she watched over Babylon and stately Egypt; and just as she saw the building of the pyramids, and the destruction of Pompeii, so has she seen the city of Anuradhapura, both in her pride and in her desolation.
The long shadows deepen. A melancholy chant, part of some midnight service, rises from the great Dagoba. A soft wind sighs among the palm trees. It is getting cold, let us to bed, before we come to believe that we, too, have been dead these long two thousand years.
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
ashore
|
|
| adv.在(向)岸上，上岸 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
palls
|
|
| n.柩衣( pall的名词复数 )；墓衣；棺罩；深色或厚重的覆盖物v.（因过多或过久而）生厌，感到乏味，厌烦( pall的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
barges
|
|
| 驳船( barge的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
impulsive
|
|
| adj.冲动的，刺激的；有推动力的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
jabbering
|
|
| v.急切而含混不清地说( jabber的现在分词 )；急促兴奋地说话；结结巴巴 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
shriek
|
|
| v./n.尖叫，叫喊 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
appreciative
|
|
| adj.有鉴赏力的，有眼力的；感激的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
shafts
|
|
| n.轴( shaft的名词复数 )；（箭、高尔夫球棒等的）杆；通风井；一阵（疼痛、害怕等） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
chattering
|
|
| n. （机器振动发出的）咔嗒声，(鸟等)鸣，啁啾 adj. 喋喋不休的，啾啾声的 动词chatter的现在分词形式 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
chatter
|
|
| vi.／n.喋喋不休；短促尖叫；(牙齿)打战 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
flicking
|
|
| （尤指用手指或手快速地）轻击( flick的现在分词 )； （用…）轻挥； （快速地）按开关； 向…笑了一下（或瞥了一眼等） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
imploring
|
|
| 恳求的，哀求的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
vernacular
|
|
| adj.地方的，用地方语写成的；n.白话；行话；本国语；动植物的俗名 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
clatter
|
|
| v./n.(使)发出连续而清脆的撞击声 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
converse
|
|
| vi.谈话，谈天，闲聊；adv.相反的，相反 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
vent
|
|
| n.通风口，排放口；开衩；vt.表达，发泄 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
everlasting
|
|
| adj.永恒的，持久的，无止境的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
ward
|
|
| n.守卫，监护，病房，行政区，由监护人或法院保护的人（尤指儿童）；vt.守护，躲开 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
accomplished
|
|
| adj.有才艺的；有造诣的；达到了的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
refreshingly
|
|
| adv.清爽地，有精神地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
graceful
|
|
| adj.优美的，优雅的；得体的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
fragrant
|
|
| adj.芬香的，馥郁的，愉快的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
petunias
|
|
| n.矮牵牛（花）( petunia的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
countless
|
|
| adj.无数的，多得不计其数的 | |
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
tint
|
|
| n.淡色，浅色；染发剂；vt.着以淡淡的颜色 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
isles
|
|
| 岛( isle的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
sapphire
|
|
| n.青玉，蓝宝石；adj.天蓝色的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
dealers
|
|
| n.商人( dealer的名词复数 )；贩毒者；毒品贩子；发牌者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
touts
|
|
| n.招徕( tout的名词复数 )；（音乐会、体育比赛等的）卖高价票的人；侦查者；探听赛马的情报v.兜售( tout的第三人称单数 )；招揽；侦查；探听赛马情报 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
patronage
|
|
| n.赞助，支援，援助；光顾，捧场 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
disperse
|
|
| vi.使分散；使消失；vt.分散；驱散 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
kindly
|
|
| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
fresco
|
|
| n.壁画；vt.作壁画于 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
linen
|
|
| n.亚麻布，亚麻线，亚麻制品；adj.亚麻布制的，亚麻的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
peculiar
|
|
| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
attentive
|
|
| adj.注意的，专心的；关心(别人)的，殷勤的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
hush
|
|
| int.嘘，别出声；n.沉默，静寂；v.使安静 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
reigns
|
|
| n.君主的统治( reign的名词复数 )；君主统治时期；任期；当政期 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
subdued
|
|
| adj. 屈服的，柔和的，减弱的 动词subdue的过去式和过去分词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
harmoniously
|
|
| 和谐地，调和地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
myriad
|
|
| adj.无数的；n.无数，极大数量 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
akin
|
|
| adj.同族的，类似的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
chambers
|
|
| n.房间( chamber的名词复数 )；（议会的）议院；卧室；会议厅 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
chamber
|
|
| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
fluted
|
|
| a.有凹槽的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
voracious
|
|
| adj.狼吞虎咽的，贪婪的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
impudence
|
|
| n.厚颜无耻；冒失；无礼 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
persistent
|
|
| adj.坚持不懈的，执意的；持续的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
entreaties
|
|
| n.恳求，乞求( entreaty的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
nefarious
|
|
| adj.恶毒的，极坏的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
swoops
|
|
| 猛扑，突然下降( swoop的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
morsel
|
|
| n.一口，一点点 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
brigand
|
|
| n.土匪，强盗 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
perches
|
|
| 栖息处( perch的名词复数 )； 栖枝； 高处； 鲈鱼 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
chuckle
|
|
| vi.／n.轻声笑，咯咯笑 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
annihilate
|
|
| v.使无效；毁灭；取消 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
58
lured
|
|
| 吸引，引诱（lure的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
59
discomfiture
|
|
| n.崩溃；大败；挫败；困惑 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
doze
|
|
| v.打瞌睡；n.打盹，假寐 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
61
miscreants
|
|
| n.恶棍，歹徒( miscreant的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
62
paean
|
|
| n.赞美歌，欢乐歌 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
63
tenors
|
|
| n.男高音( tenor的名词复数 )；大意；男高音歌唱家；（文件的）抄本 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
64
basses
|
|
| 低音歌唱家，低音乐器( bass的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
65
juncture
|
|
| n.时刻，关键时刻，紧要关头 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
66
worthy
|
|
| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
67
picturesque
|
|
| adj.美丽如画的，（语言）生动的，绘声绘色的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
68
lagoon
|
|
| n.泻湖，咸水湖 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
69
groves
|
|
| 树丛，小树林( grove的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
70
tellers
|
|
| n.（银行）出纳员( teller的名词复数 )；（投票时的）计票员；讲故事等的人；讲述者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
71
hue
|
|
| n.色度；色调；样子 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
72
baggy
|
|
| adj.膨胀如袋的，宽松下垂的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
73
glossy
|
|
| adj.平滑的；有光泽的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
74
neatly
|
|
| adv.整洁地，干净地，灵巧地，熟练地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
75
surmounted
|
|
| 战胜( surmount的过去式和过去分词 )； 克服（困难）； 居于…之上； 在…顶上 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
76
naught
|
|
| n.无，零 [=nought] | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
77
burnished
|
|
| adj.抛光的，光亮的v.擦亮（金属等），磨光( burnish的过去式和过去分词 )；被擦亮，磨光 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
78
Buddhist
|
|
| adj./n.佛教的，佛教徒 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
79
peculiarities
|
|
| n. 特质, 特性, 怪癖, 古怪 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
80
innocence
|
|
| n.无罪；天真；无害 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
81
modesty
|
|
| n.谦逊，虚心，端庄，稳重，羞怯，朴素 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
82
bungalows
|
|
| n.平房( bungalow的名词复数 )；单层小屋，多于一层的小屋 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
83
situated
|
|
| adj.坐落在...的，处于某种境地的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
84
grassy
|
|
| adj.盖满草的；长满草的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
85
shrubs
|
|
| 灌木( shrub的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
86
rustling
|
|
| n. 瑟瑟声，沙沙声 adj. 发沙沙声的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
87
boundless
|
|
| adj.无限的；无边无际的；巨大的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
88
wayfarer
|
|
| n.旅人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
89
enjoyment
|
|
| n.乐趣；享有；享用 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
90
peril
|
|
| n.(严重的)危险；危险的事物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
91
folly
|
|
| n.愚笨，愚蠢，蠢事，蠢行，傻话 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
92
emphasise
|
|
| vt.加强...的语气，强调，着重 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
93
gauge
|
|
| v.精确计量；估计；n.标准度量；计量器 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
94
fully
|
|
| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
95
marshy
|
|
| adj.沼泽的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
96
interspersed
|
|
| adj.[医]散开的；点缀的v.intersperse的过去式和过去分词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
97
clumps
|
|
| n.（树、灌木、植物等的）丛、簇( clump的名词复数 )；（土、泥等）团；块；笨重的脚步声v.（树、灌木、植物等的）丛、簇( clump的第三人称单数 )；（土、泥等）团；块；笨重的脚步声 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
98
delightful
|
|
| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
99
ascent
|
|
| n.(声望或地位)提高；上升，升高；登高 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
100
wriggling
|
|
| v.扭动，蠕动，蜿蜒行进( wriggle的现在分词 )；（使身体某一部位）扭动；耍滑不做，逃避（应做的事等）；蠕蠕 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
101
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： |
|
|
|
|
102
utterance
|
|
| n.用言语表达，话语，言语 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
103
awed
|
|
| adj.充满敬畏的，表示敬畏的v.使敬畏，使惊惧( awe的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
104
zigzagging
|
|
| v.弯弯曲曲地走路，曲折地前进( zigzag的现在分词 )；盘陀 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
105
misty
|
|
| adj.雾蒙蒙的，有雾的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
106
acme
|
|
| n.顶点，极点 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
107
attained
|
|
| （通常经过努力）实现( attain的过去式和过去分词 )； 达到； 获得； 达到（某年龄、水平、状况） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
108
wont
|
|
| adj.习惯于；v.习惯；n.习惯 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
109
celebrated
|
|
| adj.有名的，声誉卓著的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
110
scenic
|
|
| adj.自然景色的，景色优美的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
111
Christian
|
|
| adj.基督教徒的；n.基督教徒 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
112
Buddhists
|
|
| n.佛教徒( Buddhist的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
113
mythical
|
|
| adj.神话的；虚构的；想像的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
114
Portuguese
|
|
| n.葡萄牙人；葡萄牙语 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
115
standing
|
|
| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
116
followers
|
|
| 追随者( follower的名词复数 )； 用户； 契据的附面； 从动件 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
117
prospect
|
|
| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
118
penetrated
|
|
| adj. 击穿的，鞭辟入里的 动词penetrate的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
119
shrine
|
|
| n.圣地，神龛，庙；v.将...置于神龛内，把...奉为神圣 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
120
gems
|
|
| growth； economy； management； and customer satisfaction 增长 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
121
relic
|
|
| n.神圣的遗物，遗迹，纪念物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
122
Buddhism
|
|
| n.佛教（教义） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
123
Buddha
|
|
| n.佛；佛像；佛陀 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
124
veneration
|
|
| n.尊敬，崇拜 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
125
reposes
|
|
| v.将（手臂等）靠在某人（某物）上( repose的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
126
yarns
|
|
| n.纱( yarn的名词复数 )；纱线；奇闻漫谈；旅行轶事 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
127
purely
|
|
| adv.纯粹地，完全地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
128
mendicant
|
|
| n.乞丐；adj.行乞的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
129
celibacy
|
|
| n.独身(主义) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
130
provender
|
|
| n.刍草；秣料 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
131
undertaking
|
|
| n.保证，许诺，事业 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
132
determined
|
|
| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
133
providence
|
|
| n.深谋远虑，天道，天意；远见；节约；上帝 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
134
commissioners
|
|
| n.专员( commissioner的名词复数 )；长官；委员；政府部门的长官 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
135
intervals
|
|
| n.[军事]间隔( interval的名词复数 )；间隔时间；[数学]区间；（戏剧、电影或音乐会的）幕间休息 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
136
gorges
|
|
| n.山峡，峡谷( gorge的名词复数 )；咽喉v.（用食物把自己）塞饱，填饱( gorge的第三人称单数 )；作呕 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
137
junction
|
|
| n.连接，接合；交叉点，接合处，枢纽站 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
138
northward
|
|
| adv.向北；n.北方的地区 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
139
varied
|
|
| adj.多样的，多变化的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
140
inquiry
|
|
| n.打听，询问，调查，查问 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
141
spat
|
|
| n.口角，掌击；v.发出呼噜呼噜声 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
142
precisely
|
|
| adv.恰好，正好，精确地，细致地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
143
garrulous
|
|
| adj.唠叨的，多话的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
144
grandeur
|
|
| n.伟大，崇高，宏伟，庄严，豪华 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
145
entirely
|
|
| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
146
inspection
|
|
| n.检查，审查，检阅 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
147
prancing
|
|
| v.（马）腾跃( prance的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
148
deception
|
|
| n.欺骗，欺诈；骗局，诡计 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
149
adviser
|
|
| n.劝告者，顾问 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
150
salaams
|
|
| （穆斯林的）额手礼，问安，敬礼( salaam的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
|
151
drawn
|
|
| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
152
trot
|
|
| n.疾走，慢跑；n.老太婆；现成译本；(复数）trots:腹泻（与the 连用）；v.小跑，快步走，赶紧 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
153
trotting
|
|
| 小跑，急走( trot的现在分词 )； 匆匆忙忙地走 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
154
behold
|
|
| v.看，注视，看到 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
155
shrieked
|
|
| v.尖叫( shriek的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
156
Oxford
|
|
| n.牛津（英国城市） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
157
Mandarin
|
|
| n.中国官话，国语，满清官吏；adj.华丽辞藻的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
158
obliterated
|
|
| v.除去( obliterate的过去式和过去分词 )；涂去；擦掉；彻底破坏或毁灭 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
159
obliterate
|
|
| v.擦去，涂抹，去掉...痕迹，消失，除去 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
160
bugle
|
|
| n.军号，号角，喇叭；v.吹号，吹号召集 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
161
constrained
|
|
| adj.束缚的,节制的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
162
custodian
|
|
| n.保管人，监护人；公共建筑看守 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
163
implore
|
|
| vt.乞求，恳求，哀求 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
164
annihilated
|
|
| v.（彻底）消灭( annihilate的过去式和过去分词 )；使无效；废止；彻底击溃 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
165
caterpillar
|
|
| n.毛虫，蝴蝶的幼虫 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
166
dangling
|
|
| 悬吊着( dangle的现在分词 )； 摆动不定； 用某事物诱惑…； 吊胃口 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
167
contemplated
|
|
| adj. 预期的 动词contemplate的过去分词形式 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
168
pounce
|
|
| n.猛扑；v.猛扑，突然袭击，欣然同意 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
169
enthusiast
|
|
| n.热心人，热衷者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
170
foliage
|
|
| n.叶子，树叶，簇叶 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
171
loomed
|
|
| v.隐约出现，阴森地逼近( loom的过去式和过去分词 )；隐约出现，阴森地逼近 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
172
conjure
|
|
| v.恳求，祈求；变魔术，变戏法 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
173
noxious
|
|
| adj.有害的，有毒的；使道德败坏的，讨厌的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
174
transformation
|
|
| n.变化；改造；转变 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
175
dense
|
|
| a.密集的，稠密的，浓密的；密度大的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
176
apparently
|
|
| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
177
jaded
|
|
| adj.精疲力竭的；厌倦的；（因过饱或过多而）腻烦的；迟钝的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
178
melancholy
|
|
| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
179
sneak
|
|
| vt.潜行(隐藏,填石缝)；偷偷摸摸做；n.潜行；adj.暗中进行 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
180
sob
|
|
| n.空间轨道的轰炸机；呜咽，哭泣 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
181
equanimity
|
|
| n.沉着，镇定 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
182
cramped
|
|
| a.狭窄的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
183
cramp
|
|
| n.痉挛；[pl.](腹)绞痛；vt.限制，束缚 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
184
rheumatism
|
|
| n.风湿病 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
185
aggravated
|
|
| 使恶化( aggravate的过去式和过去分词 )； 使更严重； 激怒； 使恼火 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
186
destined
|
|
| adj.命中注定的；(for)以…为目的地的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
187
ecstasy
|
|
| n.狂喜，心醉神怡，入迷 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
188
placidly
|
|
| adv.平稳地，平静地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
189
slumbers
|
|
| 睡眠，安眠( slumber的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
190
vow
|
|
| n.誓(言)，誓约；v.起誓，立誓 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
191
exterminate
|
|
| v.扑灭，消灭，根绝 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
192
monstrous
|
|
| adj.巨大的；恐怖的；可耻的，丢脸的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
193
dome
|
|
| n.圆屋顶，拱顶 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
194
metropolis
|
|
| n.首府；大城市 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
195
synonym
|
|
| n.同义词，换喻词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
196
fixed
|
|
| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
197
scattered
|
|
| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
198
circumference
|
|
| n.圆周，周长，圆周线 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
199
crumble
|
|
| vi.碎裂，崩溃；vt.弄碎，摧毁 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
200
commendable
|
|
| adj.值得称赞的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
201
zeal
|
|
| n.热心，热情，热忱 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
202
domes
|
|
| n.圆屋顶( dome的名词复数 )；像圆屋顶一样的东西；圆顶体育场 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
203
remains
|
|
| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
204
masonry
|
|
| n.砖土建筑；砖石 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
205
shrines
|
|
| 圣地，圣坛，神圣场所( shrine的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
206
ERECTED
|
|
| adj. 直立的，竖立的，笔直的 vt. 使 ... 直立，建立 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
207
commemorate
|
|
| vt.纪念，庆祝 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
208
spire
|
|
| n.(教堂)尖顶，尖塔，高点 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
209
computed
|
|
| adj.[医]计算的，使用计算机的v.计算，估算( compute的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
210
brass
|
|
| n.黄铜；黄铜器，铜管乐器 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
211
granite
|
|
| adj.花岗岩，花岗石 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
212
possessed
|
|
| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
213
winking
|
|
| n.瞬眼，目语v.使眼色( wink的现在分词 )；递眼色（表示友好或高兴等）；（指光）闪烁；闪亮 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
214
brazen
|
|
| adj.厚脸皮的，无耻的，坚硬的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
215
eternity
|
|
| n.不朽，来世；永恒，无穷 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
216
frescoed
|
|
| 壁画( fresco的名词复数 )； 温壁画技法，湿壁画 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
217
crumbled
|
|
| （把…）弄碎， （使）碎成细屑( crumble的过去式和过去分词 )； 衰落； 坍塌； 损坏 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
218
foraging
|
|
| v.搜寻（食物），尤指动物觅（食）( forage的现在分词 )；（尤指用手）搜寻（东西） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
219
abode
|
|
| n.住处，住所 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
220
forth
|
|
| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
221
defiled
|
|
| v.玷污( defile的过去式和过去分词 )；污染；弄脏；纵列行进 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
222
reverently
|
|
| adv.虔诚地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
223
apotheosis
|
|
| n.神圣之理想；美化；颂扬 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
224
twine
|
|
| v.搓，织，编饰；（使）缠绕 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
225
preservation
|
|
| n.保护，维护，保存，保留，保持 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
226
monks
|
|
| n.修道士，僧侣( monk的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
227
artistically
|
|
| adv.艺术性地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
228
preen
|
|
| v.（人）打扮修饰 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
229
hordes
|
|
| n.移动着的一大群( horde的名词复数 )；部落 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
230
descend
|
|
| vt./vi.传下来，下来，下降 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
231
criticise
|
|
| v.批评，评论；非难 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
232
gateway
|
|
| n.大门口，出入口，途径，方法 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
233
orb
|
|
| n.太阳；星球；v.弄圆；成球形 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
234
weird
|
|
| adj.古怪的，离奇的；怪诞的，神秘而可怕的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
235
solitary
|
|
| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
236
laments
|
|
| n.悲恸，哀歌，挽歌( lament的名词复数 )v.（为…）哀悼，痛哭，悲伤( lament的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
237
retinues
|
|
| n.一批随员( retinue的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
238
ponderous
|
|
| adj.沉重的，笨重的，(文章)冗长的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
239
wares
|
|
| n. 货物, 商品 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
240
ravages
|
|
| 劫掠后的残迹，破坏的结果，毁坏后的残迹 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |