The likeness1 of a kingly crown had on.
PARADISE LOST.
Sodor, or Holm-Peel, so is named the castle to which our Julian directed his course early on the following morning, is one of those extraordinary monuments of antiquity2 with which this singular and interesting island abounds3. It occupies the whole of a high rocky peninsula, or rather an island, for it is surrounded by the sea at high-water, and scarcely accessible even when the tide is out, although a stone causeway, of great solidity, erected4 for the express purpose, connects the island with the mainland. The whole space is surrounded by double walls of great strength and thickness; and the access to the interior, at the time which we treat of, was only by two flights of steep and narrow steps, divided from each other by a strong tower and guard-house; under the former of which, there is an entrance-arch. The open space within the walls extends to two acres, and contains many objects worthy5 of antiquarian curiosity. There were besides the castle itself, two cathedral churches, dedicated6, the earlier to St. Patrick, the latter to St. Germain; besides two smaller churches; all of which had become, even in that day, more or less ruinous. Their decayed walls, exhibiting the rude and massive architecture of the most remote period, were composed of a ragged7 grey-stone, which formed a singular contrast with the bright red freestone of which the window-cases, corner-stones, arches, and other ornamental8 parts of the building, were composed.
Besides these four ruinous churches, the space of ground enclosed by the massive exterior9 walls of Holm-Peel exhibited many other vestiges10 of the olden time. There was a square mound11 of earth, facing, with its angles to the points of the compass, one of those motes12, as they were called, on which, in ancient times, the northern tribes elected or recognised their chiefs, and held their solemn popular assemblies, or comitia. There was also one of those singular towers, so common in Ireland as to have proved the favourite theme of her antiquaries; but of which the real use and meaning seems yet to be hidden in the mist of ages. This of Holm-Peel had been converted to the purpose of a watch-tower. There were, besides, Runic monuments, of which legends could not be deciphered; and later inscriptions13 to the memory of champions, of whom the names only were preserved from oblivion. But tradition and superstitious14 eld, still most busy where real history is silent, had filled up the long blank of accurate information with tales of Sea-kings and Pirates, Hebridean Chiefs and Norwegian Resolutes, who had formerly15 warred against, and in defence of, this famous castle. Superstition16, too, had her tales of fairies, ghosts, and spectres — her legions of saints and demons17, of fairies and of familiar spirits, which in no corner of the British empire are told and received with more absolute credulity than in the Isle18 of Man.
Amidst all these ruins of an older time arose the Castle itself — now ruinous — but in Charles II.‘s reign19 well garrisoned20, and, in a military point of view, kept in complete order. It was a venerable and very ancient building, containing several apartments of sufficient size and height to be termed noble. But in the surrender of the island by Christian22, the furniture had been, in a great measure, plundered23 or destroyed by the republican soldiers; so that, as we have before hinted, its present state was ill adapted for the residence of the noble proprietor24. Yet it had been often the abode25, not only of the Lords of Man, but of those state prisoners whom the Kings of Britain sometimes committed to their charge.
In this Castle of Holm-Peel the great king-maker, Richard, Earl of Warwick, was confined, during one period of his eventful life, to ruminate26 at leisure on his farther schemes of ambition. And here, too, Eleanor, the haughty27 wife of the good Duke of Gloucester, pined out in seclusion28 the last days of her banishment29. The sentinels pretended that her discontented spectre was often visible at night, traversing the battlements of the external walls, or standing30 motionless beside a particular solitary31 turret32 of one of the watch-towers with which they are flanked; but dissolving into air at cock-crow, or when the bell tolled33 from the yet remaining tower of St. Germain’s church.
Such was Holm-Peel, as records inform us, till towards the end of the seventeenth century.
It was in one of the lofty but almost unfurnished apartments of this ancient Castle that Julian Peveril found his friend the Earl of Derby, who had that moment sat down to a breakfast composed of various sorts of fish. “Welcome, most imperial Julian,” he said; “welcome to our royal fortress34; in which, as yet, we are not like to be starved with hunger, though well-nigh dead for cold.”
Julian answered by inquiring the meaning of this sudden movement.
“Upon my word,” replied the Earl, “you know nearly as much of it as I do. My mother has told me nothing about it; supposing I believe, that I shall at length be tempted35 to inquire; but she will find herself much mistaken. I shall give her credit for full wisdom in her proceedings36, rather than put her to the trouble to render a reason, though no woman can render one better.”
“Come, come; this is affectation, my good friend,” said Julian. “You should inquire into these matters a little more curiously37.”
“To what purpose?” said the Earl. “To hear old stories about the Tinwald laws, and the contending rights of the lords and the clergy38, and all the rest of that Celtic barbarism, which, like Burgesse’s thorough-paced doctrine39 enters at one ear, paces through, and goes out at the other?”
“Come, my lord,” said Julian, “you are not so indifferent as you would represent yourself — you are dying of curiosity to know what this hurry is about; only you think it the courtly humour to appear careless about your own affairs.”
“Why, what should it be about,” said the young Earl “unless some factious40 dispute between our Majesty41’s minister, Governor Nowel, and our vassals42? or perhaps some dispute betwixt our Majesty and the ecclesiastical jurisdictions45? for all which our Majesty cares as little as any king in Christendom.”
“I rather suppose there is intelligence from England,” said Julian. “I heard last night in Peel-town, that Greenhalgh is come over with unpleasant news.”
“He brought me nothing that was pleasant, I wot well,” said the Earl. “I expected something from St. Evremond or Hamilton — some new plays by Dryden or Lee, and some waggery or lampoons46 from the Rose Coffee-house; and the fellow has brought me nothing but a parcel of tracts47 about Protestants and Papists, and a folio play-book, one of the conceptions, as she calls them, of that old mad-woman the Duchess of Newcastle.”
“Hush, my lord, for Heaven’s sake,” said Peveril; “here comes the Countess; and you know she takes fire at the least slight to her ancient friend.”
“Let her read her ancient friend’s works herself, then,” said the Earl, “and think her as wise as she can; but I would not give one of Waller’s songs, or Denham’s satires48, for a whole cart-load of her Grace’s trash. — But here comes our mother with care on her brow.”
The Countess of Derby entered the apartment accordingly, holding in her hand a number of papers. Her dress was a mourning habit, with a deep train of black velvet49, which was borne by a little favourite attendant, a deaf and dumb girl, whom, in compassion50 to her misfortune, the Countess had educated about her person for some years. Upon this unfortunate being, with the touch of romance which marked many of her proceedings, Lady Derby had conferred the name of Fenella, after some ancient princess of the island. The Countess herself was not much changed since we last presented her to our readers. Age had rendered her step more slow, but not less majestic51; and while it traced some wrinkles on her brow, had failed to quench52 the sedate53 fire of her dark eye. The young men rose to receive her with the formal reverence54 which they knew she loved, and were greeted by her with equal kindness.
“Cousin Peveril,” she said (for so she always called Julian, in respect of his mother being a kinswoman of her husband), “you were ill abroad last night, when we much needed your counsel.”
Julian answered with a blush which he could not prevent, “That he had followed his sport among the mountains too far — had returned late — and finding her ladyship was removed from Castletown, had instantly followed the family hither; but as the night-bell was rung, and the watch set, he had deemed it more respectful to lodge55 for the night in the town.”
“It is well,” said the Countess; “and, to do you justice, Julian, you are seldom a truant56 neglecter of appointed hours, though, like the rest of the youth of this age, you sometimes suffer your sports to consume too much of time that should be spent otherwise. But for your friend Philip, he is an avowed57 contemner58 of good order, and seems to find pleasure in wasting time, even when he does not enjoy it.”
“I have been enjoying my time just now at least,” said the Earl, rising from table, and picking his teeth carelessly. “These fresh mullets are delicious, and so is the Lachrym? Christi. I pray you to sit down to breakfast, Julian, and partake the goods my royal foresight59 has provided. Never was King of Man nearer being left to the mercy of the execrable brandy of his dominions60. Old Griffiths would never, in the midst of our speedy retreat of last night, have had sense enough to secure a few flasks61, had I not given him a hint on that important subject. But presence of mind amid danger and tumult62, is a jewel I have always possessed63.”
“I wish, then, Philip, you would exert it to better purpose,” said the Countess, half smiling, half displeased64; for she doated upon her son with all a mother’s fondness, even when she was most angry with him for being deficient65 in the peculiar66 and chivalrous67 disposition68 which had distinguished69 his father, and which was so analogous70 to her own romantic and high-minded character. “Lend me your signet,” she added with a sigh; “for it were, I fear, vain to ask you to read over these despatches from England, and execute the warrants which I have thought necessary to prepare in consequence.”
“My signet you shall command with all my heart, madam,” said Earl Philip; “but spare me the revision of what you are much more capable to decide upon. I am, you know, a most complete Roi fainéant, and never once interfered71 with my Maire de palais in her proceedings.”
The Countess made signs to her little train-bearer, who immediately went to seek for wax and a light, with which she presently returned.
In the meanwhile the Countess continued, addressing Peveril. “Philip does himself less than justice. When you were absent, Julian (for if you had been here I would have given you the credit of prompting your friend), he had a spirited controversy73 with the Bishop74, for an attempt to enforce spiritual censures75 against a poor wretch76, by confining her in the vault77 under the chapel78.”*
* Beneath the only one of the four churches in Castle Rushin, which is or was kept a little in repair, is a prison or dungeon79, for ecclesiastical offenders80. “This,” says Waldron, “is certainly one of the most dreadful places that imagination can form; the sea runs under it through the hollows of the rock with such a continual roar, that you would think it were every moment breaking in upon you, and over it are the vaults81 for burying the dead. The stairs descending82 to this place of terrors are not above thirty, but so steep and narrow, that they are very difficult to go down, a child of eight or nine years not being able to pass them but sideways.”— WALDRON’S Description of the Isle of Man, in his Works, p. 105, folio.
“Do not think better of me than I deserve,” said the Earl to Peveril; “my mother has omitted to tell you the culprit was pretty Peggy of Ramsey, and her crime what in Cupid’s courts would have been called a peccadillo83.”
“Do not make yourself worse than you are,” replied Peveril, who observed the Countess’s cheek redden — “you know you would have done as much for the oldest and poorest cripple in the island. Why, the vault is under the burial-ground of the chapel, and, for aught I know, under the ocean itself, such a roaring do the waves make in its vicinity. I think no one could remain there long, and retain his reason.”
“It is an infernal hole,” answered the Earl, “and I will have it built up one day — that is full certain. — But hold — hold — for God’s sake, madam — what are you going to do? — Look at the seal before you put it to the warrant — you will see it is a choice antique cameo Cupid, riding on a flying fish — I had it for twenty zechins, from Signor Furabosco at Rome — a most curious matter for an antiquary, but which will add little faith to a Manx warrant.
“My signet — my signet — Oh! you mean that with the three monstrous84 legs, which I supposed was devised as the most preposterous85 device, to represent our most absurd Majesty of Man. — The signet — I have not seen it since I gave it to Gibbon, my monkey, to play with. — He did whine86 for it most piteously — I hope he has not gemmed87 the green breast of ocean with my symbol of sovereignty!”
“Now, by Heaven,” said the Countess, trembling, and colouring deeply with anger, “it was your father’s signet! the last pledge which he sent, with his love to me, and his blessing88 to thee, the night before they murdered him at Bolton!”
“Mother, dearest mother,” said the Earl, startled out of his apathy89, and taking her hand, which he kissed tenderly, “I did but jest — the signet is safe — Peveril knows that it is so. — Go fetch it, Julian, for Heaven’s sake — here are my keys — it is in the left-hand drawer of my travelling cabinet — Nay90, mother, forgive me — it was but a mauvaise plaisanterie; only an ill-imagined jest, ungracious, and in bad taste, I allow — but only one of Philip’s follies91. Look at me, dearest mother, and forgive me.”
The Countess turned her eyes towards him, from which the tears were fast falling.
“Philip,” she said, “you try me too unkindly, and too severely92. If times are changed, as I have heard you allege93 — if the dignity of rank, and the high feelings of honour and duty, are now drowned in giddy jests and trifling94 pursuits, let me at least, who live secluded95 from all others, die without perceiving the change which has happened, and, above all, without perceiving it in mine own son. Let me not learn the general prevalence of this levity96, which laughs at every sense of dignity or duty, through your personal disrespect — Let me not think that when I die ——”
“Speak nothing of it, mother,” said the Earl, interrupting her affectionately. “It is true, I cannot promise to be all my father and his fathers were; for we wear silk vests for their steel coats, and feathered beavers97 for their crested98 helmets. But believe me, though to be an absolute Palmerin of England is not in my nature, no son ever loved a mother more dearly, or would do more to oblige her. And that you may own this, I will forthwith not only seal the warrants, to the great endangerment of my precious fingers, but also read the same from end to end, as well as the despatches thereunto appertaining.”
A mother is easily appeased99, even when most offended; and it was with an expanding heart that the Countess saw her son’s very handsome features, while reading these papers, settle into an expression of deep seriousness, such as they seldom wore. It seemed to her as if the family likeness to his gallant100 but unfortunate father increased, when the expression of their countenances101 became similar in gravity. The Earl had no sooner perused102 the despatches, which he did with great attention, than he rose and said, “Julian, come with me.”
The Countess looked surprised. “I was wont103 to share your father’s counsels, my son,” she said; “but do not think that I wish to intrude104 myself upon yours. I am too well pleased to see you assume the power and the duty of thinking for yourself, which is what I have so long urged you to do. Nevertheless, my experience, who have been so long administrator105 of your authority in Man, might not, I think, be superfluous106 to the matter in hand.”
“Hold me excused, dearest mother,” said the Earl gravely. “The interference was none of my seeking; had you taken your own course, without consulting me, it had been well; but since I have entered on the affair — and it appears sufficiently107 important — I must transact108 it to the best of my own ability.”
“Go, then, my son,” said the Countess, “and may Heaven enlighten thee with its counsel, since thou wilt109 have none of mine. — I trust that you, Master Peveril, will remind him of what is fit for his own honour; and that only a coward abandons his rights, and only a fool trusts his enemies.”
The Earl answered not, but, taking Peveril by the arm, led him up a winding110 stair to his own apartment, and from thence into a projecting turret, where, amidst the roar of waves and sea-mews’ clang, he held with him the following conversation:—
“Peveril, it is well I looked into these warrants. My mother queens it at such a rate as may cost me not only my crown, which I care little for, but perhaps my head, which, though others may think little of, I would feel it an inconvenience to be deprived of.”
“What on earth is the matter?” said Peveril, with considerable anxiety.
“It seems,” said the Earl of Derby, “that old England who takes a frolicsome111 brain-fever once every two or three years, for the benefit of her doctors, and the purification of the torpid112 lethargy brought on by peace and prosperity, is now gone stark113 staring mad on the subject of a real or supposed Popish plot. I read one programme on the subject, by a fellow called Oates, and thought it the most absurd foolery I ever perused. But that cunning fellow Shaftesbury, and some others amongst the great ones, having taken it up, and are driving on at such a rate as makes harness crack, and horses smoke for it. The King, who has sworn never to kiss the pillow his father went to sleep on, temporises, and gives way to the current; the Duke of York, suspected and hated on account of his religion, is about to be driven to the continent; several principal Catholic nobles are in the Tower already; and the nation, like a bull at Tutbury-running, is persecuted114 with so many inflammatory rumours115 and pestilent pamphlets, that she has cocked her tail, flung up her heels, taken the bit betwixt her teeth and is as furiously unmanageable as in the year 1642.”
“All this you must have known already,” said Peveril; “I wonder you told me not of news so important.”
“It would have taken long to tell,” said the Earl; “moreover, I desired to have you solus; thirdly, I was about to speak when my mother entered; and, to conclude, it was no business of mine. But these despatches of my politic116 mother’s private correspondent put a new face on the whole matter; for it seems some of the informers — a trade which, having become a thriving one, is now pursued by many — have dared to glance at the Countess herself as an agent in this same plot — ay, and have found those that are willing enough to believe their report.”
“On mine honour,” said Peveril, “you both take it with great coolness. I think the Countess the more composed of the two; for, except her movement hither, she exhibited no mark of alarm, and, moreover, seemed no way more anxious to communicate the matter to your lordship than decency117 rendered necessary.”
“My good mother,” said the Earl, “loves power, though it has cost her dear. I wish I could truly say that my neglect of business is entirely118 assumed in order to leave it in her hands, but that better motive119 combines with natural indolence. But she seems to have feared I should not think exactly like her in this emergency, and she was right in supposing so.”
“How comes the emergency upon you?” said Julian; “and what form does the danger assume?”
“Marry, thus it is,” said the Earl: “I need not bid you remember the affair of Colonel Christian. That man, besides his widow, who is possessed of large property — Dame120 Christian of Kirk Truagh, whom you have often heard of, and perhaps seen — left a brother called Edward Christian, whom you never saw at all. Now this brother — but I dare say you know all about it.”
“Not I, on my honour,” said Peveril; “you know the Countess seldom or never alludes121 to the subject.”
“Why,” replied the Earl, “I believe in her heart she is something ashamed of that gallant act of royalty122 and supreme123 jurisdiction44, the consequences of which maimed my estate so cruelly. — Well, cousin, this same Edward Christian was one of the dempsters at the time, and, naturally enough, was unwilling124 to concur125 in the sentence which adjudged his a?né to be shot like a dog. My mother, who was then in high force, and not to be controlled by any one, would have served the dempster with the same sauce with which she dressed his brother, had he not been wise enough to fly from the island. Since that time, the thing has slept on all hands; and though we knew that Dempster Christian made occasionally secret visits to his friends in the island, along with two or three other Puritans of the same stamp, and particularly a prick-eared rogue126, called Bridgenorth, brother-inlaw to the deceased, yet my mother, thank Heaven, has hitherto had the sense to connive127 at them, though, for some reason or other, she holds this Bridgenorth in especial disfavour.”
“And why,” said Peveril, forcing himself to speak, in order to conceal128 the very unpleasant surprise which he felt, “why does the Countess now depart from so prudent129 a line of conduct?”
“You must know the case is now different. The rogues130 are not satisfied with toleration — they would have supremacy131. They have found friends in the present heat of the popular mind. My mother’s name, and especially that of her confessor, Aldrick the Jesuit, have been mentioned in this beautiful maze132 of a plot, which if any such at all exists, she knows as little of as you or I. However, she is a Catholic, and that is enough; and I have little doubt, that if the fellows could seize on our scrap133 of a kingdom here, and cut all our throats, they would have the thanks of the present House of Commons, as willingly as old Christian had those of the Rump, for a similar service.”
“From whence did you receive all this information?” said Peveril, again speaking, though by the same effort which a man makes who talks in his sleep.
“Aldrick has seen the Duke of York in secret, and his Royal Highness, who wept while he confessed his want of power to protect his friends — and it is no trifle will wring134 tears from him — told him to send us information that we should look to our safety, for that Dempster Christian and Bridgenorth were in the island, with secret and severe orders; that they had formed a considerable party there, and were likely to be owned and protected in anything they might undertake against us. The people of Ramsey and Castletown are unluckily discontented about some new regulation of the imposts; and to tell you the truth, though I thought yesterday’s sudden remove a whim135 of my mother’s, I am almost satisfied they would have blockaded us in Rushin Castle, where we could not have held out for lack of provisions. Here we are better supplied, and, as we are on our guard, it is likely the intended rising will not take place.”
“And what is to be done in this emergency?” said Peveril.
“That is the very question, my gentle coz,” answered the Earl. “My mother sees but one way of going to work, and that is by royal authority. Here are the warrants she had prepared, to search for, take, and apprehend136 the bodies of Edward Christian and Robert — no, Ralph Bridgenorth, and bring them to instant trial. No doubt, she would soon have had them in the Castle court, with a dozen of the old matchlocks levelled against them — that is her way of solving all sudden difficulties.”
“But in which, I trust, you do not acquiesce137, my lord,” answered Peveril, whose thoughts instantly reverted138 to Alice, if they could ever be said to be absent from her.
“Truly I acquiesce in no such matter,” said the Earl. “William Christian’s death cost me a fair half of my inheritance. I have no fancy to fall under the displeasure of my royal brother, King Charles, for a new escapade of the same kind. But how to pacify139 my mother, I know not. I wish the insurrection would take place, and then, as we are better provided than they can be, we might knock the knaves140 on the head; and yet, since they began the fray141, we should keep the law on our side.”
“Were it not better,” said Peveril, “if by any means these men could be induced to quit the island?”
“Surely,” replied the Earl; “but that will be no easy matter — they are stubborn on principle, and empty threats will not move them. This stormblast in London is wind in their sails, and they will run their length, you may depend on it. I have sent orders, however, to clap up the Manxmen upon whose assistance they depended, and if I can find the two worthies142 themselves, here are sloops143 enough in the harbour — I will take the freedom to send them on a pretty distant voyage, and I hope matters will be settled before they return to give an account of it.”
At this moment a soldier belonging to the garrison21 approached the two young men, with many bows and tokens of respect. “How now, friend?” said the Earl to him. “Leave off thy courtesies, and tell thy business.”
The man, who was a native islander, answered in Manx, that he had a letter for his honour, Master Julian Peveril. Julian snatched the billet hastily, and asked whence it came.
“It was delivered to him by a young woman,” the soldier replied, “who had given him a piece of money to deliver it into Master Peveril’s own hand.”
“Thou art a lucky fellow, Julian,” said the Earl. “With that grave brow of thine, and thy character for sobriety and early wisdom, you set the girls a-wooing, without waiting till they are asked; whilst I, their drudge144 and vassal43, waste both language and leisure, without getting a kind word or look, far less a billet-doux.”
This the young Earl said with a smile of conscious triumph, as in fact he valued himself not a little upon the interest which he supposed himself to possess with the fair sex.
Meanwhile the letter impressed on Peveril a different train of thoughts from what his companion apprehended145. It was in Alice’s hand, and contained these few words:—
“I fear what I am going to do is wrong; but I must see you. Meet me at noon at Goddard Crovan’s Stone, with as much secrecy146 as you may.”
The letter was signed only with the initials A. B.; but Julian had no difficulty in recognising the handwriting, which he had often seen, and which was remarkably147 beautiful. He stood suspended, for he saw the difficulty and impropriety of withdrawing himself from the Countess and his friend at this moment of impending148 danger; and yet, to neglect this invitation was not to be thought of. He paused in the utmost perplexity.
“Shall I read your riddle149?” said the Earl. “Go where love calls you — I will make an excuse to my mother — only, most grave anchorite, be hereafter more indulgent to the failings of others than you have been hitherto, and blaspheme not the power of the little deity150.”
“Nay, but, Cousin Derby —” said Peveril, and stopped short, for he really knew not what to say. Secured himself by a virtuous151 passion from the contagious152 influence of the time, he had seen with regret his noble kinsman153 mingle154 more in its irregularities than he approved of, and had sometimes played the part of a monitor. Circumstances seemed at present to give the Earl a right of retaliation155. He kept his eye fixed156 on his friend, as if he waited till he should complete his sentence, and at length exclaimed, “What! cousin, quite à-la-mort! Oh, most judicious157 Julian! Oh, most precise Peveril! have you bestowed158 so much wisdom on me that you have none left for yourself? Come, be frank — tell me name and place — or say but the colour of the eyes of the most emphatic159 she — or do but let me have the pleasure to hear thee say, ‘I love!’— confess one touch of human frailty160 — conjugate161 the verb amo, and I will be a gentle schoolmaster, and you shall have, as father Richards used to say, when we were under his ferule, ‘licentia exeundi.’”
“Enjoy your pleasant humour at my expense, my lord,” said Peveril; “I fairly will confess thus much, that I would fain, if it consisted with my honour and your safety, have two hours at my own disposal; the more especially as the manner in which I shall employ them may much concern the safety of the island.”
“Very likely, I dare say,” answered the Earl, still laughing. “No doubt you are summoned out by some Lady Politic Wouldbe of the isle, to talk over some of the breast-laws: but never mind — go, and go speedily, that you may return as quickly as possible. I expect no immediate72 explosion of this grand conspiracy162. When the rogues see us on our guard, they will be cautious how they break out. Only, once more make haste.”
Peveril thought this last advice was not to be neglected; and, glad to extricate163 himself from the raillery of his cousin, walked down towards the gate of the Castle, meaning to cross over to the village, and there take horse at the Earl’s stables, for the place of rendezvous164.
点击收听单词发音
1 likeness | |
n.相像,相似(之处) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
2 antiquity | |
n.古老;高龄;古物,古迹 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
3 abounds | |
v.大量存在,充满,富于( abound的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
4 ERECTED | |
adj. 直立的,竖立的,笔直的 vt. 使 ... 直立,建立 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
5 worthy | |
adj.(of)值得的,配得上的;有价值的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
6 dedicated | |
adj.一心一意的;献身的;热诚的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
7 ragged | |
adj.衣衫褴褛的,粗糙的,刺耳的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
8 ornamental | |
adj.装饰的;作装饰用的;n.装饰品;观赏植物 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
9 exterior | |
adj.外部的,外在的;表面的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
10 vestiges | |
残余部分( vestige的名词复数 ); 遗迹; 痕迹; 毫不 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
11 mound | |
n.土墩,堤,小山;v.筑堤,用土堆防卫 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
12 motes | |
n.尘埃( mote的名词复数 );斑点 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
13 inscriptions | |
(作者)题词( inscription的名词复数 ); 献词; 碑文; 证劵持有人的登记 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
14 superstitious | |
adj.迷信的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
15 formerly | |
adv.从前,以前 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
16 superstition | |
n.迷信,迷信行为 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
17 demons | |
n.恶人( demon的名词复数 );恶魔;精力过人的人;邪念 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
18 isle | |
n.小岛,岛 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
19 reign | |
n.统治时期,统治,支配,盛行;v.占优势 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
20 garrisoned | |
卫戍部队守备( garrison的过去式和过去分词 ); 派部队驻防 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
21 garrison | |
n.卫戍部队;驻地,卫戍区;vt.派(兵)驻防 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
22 Christian | |
adj.基督教徒的;n.基督教徒 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
23 plundered | |
掠夺,抢劫( plunder的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
24 proprietor | |
n.所有人;业主;经营者 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
25 abode | |
n.住处,住所 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
26 ruminate | |
v.反刍;沉思 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
27 haughty | |
adj.傲慢的,高傲的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
28 seclusion | |
n.隐遁,隔离 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
29 banishment | |
n.放逐,驱逐 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
30 standing | |
n.持续,地位;adj.永久的,不动的,直立的,不流动的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
31 solitary | |
adj.孤独的,独立的,荒凉的;n.隐士 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
32 turret | |
n.塔楼,角塔 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
33 tolled | |
鸣钟(toll的过去式与过去分词形式) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
34 fortress | |
n.堡垒,防御工事 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
35 tempted | |
v.怂恿(某人)干不正当的事;冒…的险(tempt的过去分词) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
36 proceedings | |
n.进程,过程,议程;诉讼(程序);公报 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
37 curiously | |
adv.有求知欲地;好问地;奇特地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
38 clergy | |
n.[总称]牧师,神职人员 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
39 doctrine | |
n.教义;主义;学说 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
40 factious | |
adj.好搞宗派活动的,派系的,好争论的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
41 majesty | |
n.雄伟,壮丽,庄严,威严;最高权威,王权 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
42 vassals | |
n.奴仆( vassal的名词复数 );(封建时代)诸侯;从属者;下属 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
43 vassal | |
n.附庸的;属下;adj.奴仆的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
44 jurisdiction | |
n.司法权,审判权,管辖权,控制权 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
45 jurisdictions | |
司法权( jurisdiction的名词复数 ); 裁判权; 管辖区域; 管辖范围 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
46 lampoons | |
n.讽刺文章或言辞( lampoon的名词复数 )v.冷嘲热讽,奚落( lampoon的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
47 tracts | |
大片土地( tract的名词复数 ); 地带; (体内的)道; (尤指宣扬宗教、伦理或政治的)短文 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
48 satires | |
讽刺,讥讽( satire的名词复数 ); 讽刺作品 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
49 velvet | |
n.丝绒,天鹅绒;adj.丝绒制的,柔软的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
50 compassion | |
n.同情,怜悯 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
51 majestic | |
adj.雄伟的,壮丽的,庄严的,威严的,崇高的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
52 quench | |
vt.熄灭,扑灭;压制 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
53 sedate | |
adj.沉着的,镇静的,安静的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
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 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
55 lodge | |
v.临时住宿,寄宿,寄存,容纳;n.传达室,小旅馆 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
56 truant | |
n.懒惰鬼,旷课者;adj.偷懒的,旷课的,游荡的;v.偷懒,旷课 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
57 avowed | |
adj.公开声明的,承认的v.公开声明,承认( avow的过去式和过去分词) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
58 contemner | |
n.谴责者,宣判者,定罪者 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
59 foresight | |
n.先见之明,深谋远虑 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
60 dominions | |
统治权( dominion的名词复数 ); 领土; 疆土; 版图 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
61 flasks | |
n.瓶,长颈瓶, 烧瓶( flask的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
62 tumult | |
n.喧哗;激动,混乱;吵闹 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
63 possessed | |
adj.疯狂的;拥有的,占有的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
64 displeased | |
a.不快的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
65 deficient | |
adj.不足的,不充份的,有缺陷的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
66 peculiar | |
adj.古怪的,异常的;特殊的,特有的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
67 chivalrous | |
adj.武士精神的;对女人彬彬有礼的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
68 disposition | |
n.性情,性格;意向,倾向;排列,部署 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
69 distinguished | |
adj.卓越的,杰出的,著名的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
70 analogous | |
adj.相似的;类似的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
71 interfered | |
v.干预( interfere的过去式和过去分词 );调停;妨碍;干涉 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
72 immediate | |
adj.立即的;直接的,最接近的;紧靠的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
73 controversy | |
n.争论,辩论,争吵 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
74 bishop | |
n.主教,(国际象棋)象 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
75 censures | |
v.指责,非难,谴责( censure的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
76 wretch | |
n.可怜的人,不幸的人;卑鄙的人 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
77 vault | |
n.拱形圆顶,地窖,地下室 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
78 chapel | |
n.小教堂,殡仪馆 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
79 dungeon | |
n.地牢,土牢 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
80 offenders | |
n.冒犯者( offender的名词复数 );犯规者;罪犯;妨害…的人(或事物) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
81 vaults | |
n.拱顶( vault的名词复数 );地下室;撑物跳高;墓穴 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
82 descending | |
n. 下行 adj. 下降的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
83 peccadillo | |
n.轻罪,小过失 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
84 monstrous | |
adj.巨大的;恐怖的;可耻的,丢脸的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
85 preposterous | |
adj.荒谬的,可笑的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
86 whine | |
v.哀号,号哭;n.哀鸣 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
87 gemmed | |
点缀(gem的过去式与过去分词形式) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
88 blessing | |
n.祈神赐福;祷告;祝福,祝愿 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
89 apathy | |
n.漠不关心,无动于衷;冷淡 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
90 nay | |
adv.不;n.反对票,投反对票者 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
91 follies | |
罪恶,时事讽刺剧; 愚蠢,蠢笨,愚蠢的行为、思想或做法( folly的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
92 severely | |
adv.严格地;严厉地;非常恶劣地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
93 allege | |
vt.宣称,申述,主张,断言 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
94 trifling | |
adj.微不足道的;没什么价值的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
95 secluded | |
adj.与世隔绝的;隐退的;偏僻的v.使隔开,使隐退( seclude的过去式和过去分词) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
96 levity | |
n.轻率,轻浮,不稳定,多变 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
97 beavers | |
海狸( beaver的名词复数 ); 海狸皮毛; 棕灰色; 拼命工作的人 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
98 crested | |
adj.有顶饰的,有纹章的,有冠毛的v.到达山顶(或浪峰)( crest的过去式和过去分词 );到达洪峰,达到顶点 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
99 appeased | |
安抚,抚慰( appease的过去式和过去分词 ); 绥靖(满足另一国的要求以避免战争) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
100 gallant | |
adj.英勇的,豪侠的;(向女人)献殷勤的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
101 countenances | |
n.面容( countenance的名词复数 );表情;镇静;道义支持 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
102 perused | |
v.读(某篇文字)( peruse的过去式和过去分词 );(尤指)细阅;审阅;匆匆读或心不在焉地浏览(某篇文字) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
103 wont | |
adj.习惯于;v.习惯;n.习惯 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
104 intrude | |
vi.闯入;侵入;打扰,侵扰 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
105 administrator | |
n.经营管理者,行政官员 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
106 superfluous | |
adj.过多的,过剩的,多余的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
107 sufficiently | |
adv.足够地,充分地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
108 transact | |
v.处理;做交易;谈判 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
109 wilt | |
v.(使)植物凋谢或枯萎;(指人)疲倦,衰弱 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
110 winding | |
n.绕,缠,绕组,线圈 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
111 frolicsome | |
adj.嬉戏的,闹着玩的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
112 torpid | |
adj.麻痹的,麻木的,迟钝的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
113 stark | |
adj.荒凉的;严酷的;完全的;adv.完全地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
114 persecuted | |
(尤指宗教或政治信仰的)迫害(~sb. for sth.)( persecute的过去式和过去分词 ); 烦扰,困扰或骚扰某人 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
115 rumours | |
n.传闻( rumour的名词复数 );风闻;谣言;谣传 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
116 politic | |
adj.有智虑的;精明的;v.从政 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
117 decency | |
n.体面,得体,合宜,正派,庄重 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
118 entirely | |
ad.全部地,完整地;完全地,彻底地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
119 motive | |
n.动机,目的;adv.发动的,运动的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
120 dame | |
n.女士 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
121 alludes | |
提及,暗指( allude的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
122 royalty | |
n.皇家,皇族 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
123 supreme | |
adj.极度的,最重要的;至高的,最高的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
124 unwilling | |
adj.不情愿的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
125 concur | |
v.同意,意见一致,互助,同时发生 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
126 rogue | |
n.流氓;v.游手好闲 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
127 connive | |
v.纵容;密谋 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
128 conceal | |
v.隐藏,隐瞒,隐蔽 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
129 prudent | |
adj.谨慎的,有远见的,精打细算的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
130 rogues | |
n.流氓( rogue的名词复数 );无赖;调皮捣蛋的人;离群的野兽 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
131 supremacy | |
n.至上;至高权力 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
132 maze | |
n.迷宫,八阵图,混乱,迷惑 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
133 scrap | |
n.碎片;废料;v.废弃,报废 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
134 wring | |
n.扭绞;v.拧,绞出,扭 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
135 whim | |
n.一时的兴致,突然的念头;奇想,幻想 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
136 apprehend | |
vt.理解,领悟,逮捕,拘捕,忧虑 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
137 acquiesce | |
vi.默许,顺从,同意 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
138 reverted | |
恢复( revert的过去式和过去分词 ); 重提; 回到…上; 归还 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
139 pacify | |
vt.使(某人)平静(或息怒);抚慰 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
140 knaves | |
n.恶棍,无赖( knave的名词复数 );(纸牌中的)杰克 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
141 fray | |
v.争吵;打斗;磨损,磨破;n.吵架;打斗 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
142 worthies | |
应得某事物( worthy的名词复数 ); 值得做某事; 可尊敬的; 有(某人或事物)的典型特征 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
143 sloops | |
n.单桅纵帆船( sloop的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
144 drudge | |
n.劳碌的人;v.做苦工,操劳 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
145 apprehended | |
逮捕,拘押( apprehend的过去式和过去分词 ); 理解 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
146 secrecy | |
n.秘密,保密,隐蔽 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
147 remarkably | |
ad.不同寻常地,相当地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
148 impending | |
a.imminent, about to come or happen | |
参考例句: |
|
|
149 riddle | |
n.谜,谜语,粗筛;vt.解谜,给…出谜,筛,检查,鉴定,非难,充满于;vi.出谜 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
150 deity | |
n.神,神性;被奉若神明的人(或物) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
151 virtuous | |
adj.有品德的,善良的,贞洁的,有效力的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
152 contagious | |
adj.传染性的,有感染力的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
153 kinsman | |
n.男亲属 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
154 mingle | |
vt.使混合,使相混;vi.混合起来;相交往 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
155 retaliation | |
n.报复,反击 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
156 fixed | |
adj.固定的,不变的,准备好的;(计算机)固定的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
157 judicious | |
adj.明智的,明断的,能作出明智决定的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
158 bestowed | |
赠给,授予( bestow的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
159 emphatic | |
adj.强调的,着重的;无可置疑的,明显的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
160 frailty | |
n.脆弱;意志薄弱 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
161 conjugate | |
vt.使成对,使结合;adj.共轭的,成对的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
162 conspiracy | |
n.阴谋,密谋,共谋 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
163 extricate | |
v.拯救,救出;解脱 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
164 rendezvous | |
n.约会,约会地点,汇合点;vi.汇合,集合;vt.使汇合,使在汇合地点相遇 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
欢迎访问英文小说网 |