That, however, is by the way. The time, as I have said, was September, the day dull and showery, and some of the damp and gloom of it seemed to have penetrated13 the long Hall of the Manege, where on their eight rows of green benches elliptically arranged in ascending14 tiers about the space known as La Piste, sat some eight or nine hundred of the representatives of the three orders that composed the nation.
The matter under debate by the constitution-builders was whether the deliberating body to succeed the Constituent16 Assembly should work in conjunction with the King, whether it should be periodic or permanent, whether it should govern by two chambers17 or by one.
The Abbe Maury, son of a cobbler, and therefore in these days of antitheses18 orator-in-chief of the party of the Right — the Blacks, as those who fought Privilege’s losing battles were known — was in the tribune. He appeared to be urging the adoption19 of a two-chambers system framed on the English model. He was, if anything, more long-winded and prosy even than his habit; his arguments assumed more and more the form of a sermon; the tribune of the National Assembly became more and more like a pulpit; but the members, conversely, less and less like a congregation. They grew restive20 under that steady flow of pompous21 verbiage22, and it was in vain that the four ushers23 in black satin breeches and carefully powdered heads, chain of office on their breasts, gilded25 sword at their sides, circulated in the Piste, clapping their hands, and hissing26,
“Silence! En place!”
Equally vain was the intermittent27 ringing of the bell by the president at his green-covered table facing the tribune. The Abbe Maury had talked too long, and for some time had failed to interest the members. Realizing it at last, he ceased, whereupon the hum of conversation became general. And then it fell abruptly28. There was a silence of expectancy29, and a turning of heads, a craning of necks. Even the group of secretaries at the round table below the president’s dais roused themselves from their usual apathy30 to consider this young man who was mounting the tribune of the Assembly for the first time.
“M. Andre–Louis Moreau, deputy suppleant, vice31 Emmanuel Lagron, deceased, for Ancenis in the Department of the Loire.”
M. de La Tour d’Azyr shook himself out of the gloomy abstraction in which he had sat. The successor of the deputy he had slain32 must, in any event, be an object of grim interest to him. You conceive how that interest was heightened when he heard him named, when, looking across, he recognized indeed in this Andre–Louis Moreau the young scoundrel who was continually crossing his path, continually exerting against him a deep-moving, sinister33 influence to make him regret that he should have spared his life that day at Gavrillac two years ago. That he should thus have stepped into the shoes of Lagron seemed to M. de La Tour d’Azyr too apt for mere34 coincidence, a direct challenge in itself.
He looked at the young man in wonder rather than in anger, and looking at him he was filled by a vague, almost a premonitory, uneasiness.
At the very outset, the presence which in itself he conceived to be a challenge was to demonstrate itself for this in no equivocal terms.
“I come before you,” Andre–Louis began, “as a deputy-suppleant to fill the place of one who was murdered some three weeks ago.”
It was a challenging opening that instantly provoked an indignant outcry from the Blacks. Andre–Louis paused, and looked at them, smiling a little, a singularly self-confident young man.
“The gentlemen of the Right, M. le President, do not appear to like my words. But that is not surprising. The gentlemen of the Right notoriously do not like the truth.”
This time there was uproar35. The members of the Left roared with laughter, those of the Right thundered menacingly. The ushers circulated at a pace beyond their usual, agitated36 themselves, clapped their hands, and called in vain for silence.
The President rang his bell.
Above the general din15 came the voice of La Tour d’Azyr, who had half-risen from his seat: “Mountebank! This is not the theatre!”
“No, monsieur, it is becoming a hunting-ground for bully-swordsmen,” was the answer, and the uproar grew.
The deputy-suppleant looked round and waited. Near at hand he met the encouraging grin of Le Chapelier, and the quiet, approving smile of Kersain, another Breton deputy of his acquaintance. A little farther off he saw the great head of Mirabeau thrown back, the great eyes regarding him from under a frown in a sort of wonder, and yonder, among all that moving sea of faces, the sallow countenance37 of the Arras’ lawyer Robespierre — or de Robespierre, as the little snob38 now called himself, having assumed the aristocratic particle as the prerogative39 of a man of his distinction in the councils of his country. With his tip-tilted nose in the air, his carefully curled head on one side, the deputy for Arras was observing Andre–Louis attentively40. The horn-rimmed spectacles he used for reading were thrust up on to his pale forehead, and it was through a levelled spy-glass that he considered the speaker, his thin-lipped mouth stretched a little in that tiger-cat smile that was afterwards to become so famous and so feared.
Gradually the uproar wore itself out, and diminished so that at last the President could make himself heard. Leaning forward, he gravely addressed the young man in the tribune:
“Monsieur, if you wish to be heard, let me beg of you not to be provocative41 in your language.” And then to the others: “Messieurs, if we are to proceed, I beg that you will restrain your feelings until the deputy-suppleant has concluded his discourse42.”
“I shall endeavour to obey, M. le President, leaving provocation43 to the gentlemen of the Right. If the few words I have used so far have been provocative, I regret it. But it was necessary that I should refer to the distinguished44 deputy whose place I come so unworthily to fill, and it was unavoidable that I should refer to the event which has procured45 us this sad necessity. The deputy Lagron was a man of singular nobility of mind, a selfless, dutiful, zealous46 man, inflamed47 by the high purpose of doing his duty by his electors and by this Assembly. He possessed48 what his opponents would call a dangerous gift of eloquence49.”
La Tour d’Azyr writhed50 at the well-known phrase — his own phrase — the phrase that he had used to explain his action in the matter of Philippe de Vilmorin, the phrase that from time to time had been cast in his teeth with such vindictive51 menace.
And then the crisp voice of the witty52 Canales, that very rapier of the Privileged party, cut sharply into the speaker’s momentary53 pause.
“M. le President,” he asked with great solemnity, “has the deputy-suppleant mounted the tribune for the purpose of taking part in the debate on the constitution of the legislative54 assemblies, or for the purpose of pronouncing a funeral oration55 upon the departed deputy Lagron?”
This time it was the Blacks who gave way to mirth, until checked by the deputy-suppleant.
“That laughter is obscene!” In this truly Gallic fashion he flung his glove into the face of Privilege, determined56, you see, upon no half measures; and the rippling57 laughter perished on the instant quenched58 in speechless fury.
Solemnly he proceeded.
“You all know how Lagron died. To refer to his death at all requires courage, to laugh in referring to it requires something that I will not attempt to qualify. If I have alluded59 to his decease, it is because my own appearance among you seemed to render some such allusion60 necessary. It is mine to take up the burden which he set down. I do not pretend that I have the strength, the courage, or the wisdom of Lagron; but with every ounce of such strength and courage and wisdom as I possess that burden will I bear. And I trust, for the sake of those who might attempt it, that the means taken to impose silence upon that eloquent61 voice will not be taken to impose silence upon mine.”
There was a faint murmur62 of applause from the Left, splutter of contemptuous laughter from the Right.
“Rhodomont!” a voice called to him.
He looked in the direction of that voice, proceeding63 from the group of spadassins amid the Blacks across the Piste, and he smiled. Inaudibly his lips answered:
“No, my friend — Scaramouche; Scaramouche, the subtle, dangerous fellow who goes tortuously64 to his ends.” Aloud, he resumed: “M. le President, there are those who will not understand that the purpose for which we are assembled here is the making of laws by which France may be equitably65 governed, by which France may be lifted out of the morass66 of bankruptcy67 into which she is in danger of sinking. For there are some who want, it seems, not laws, but blood; I solemnly warn them that this blood will end by choking them, if they do not learn in time to discard force and allow reason to prevail.”
Again in that phrase there was something that stirred a memory in La Tour d’Azyr. He turned in the fresh uproar to speak to his cousin Chabrillane who sat beside him.
“A daring rogue68, this bastard69 of Gavrillac’s,” said he.
Chabrillane looked at him with gleaming eyes, his face white with anger.
“Let him talk himself out. I don’t think he will be heard again after to-day. Leave this to me.”
Hardly could La Tour have told you why, but he sank back in his seat with a sense of relief. He had been telling himself that here was matter demanding action, a challenge that he must take up. But despite his rage he felt a singular unwillingness70. This fellow had a trick of reminding him, he supposed, too unpleasantly of that young abbe done to death in the garden behind the Breton arme at Gavrillac. Not that the death of Philippe de Vilmorin lay heavily upon M. de La Tour d’Azyr’s conscience. He had accounted himself fully24 justified71 of his action. It was that the whole thing as his memory revived it for him made an unpleasant picture: that distraught boy kneeling over the bleeding body of the friend he had loved, and almost begging to be slain with him, dubbing72 the Marquis murderer and coward to incite73 him.
Meanwhile, leaving now the subject of the death of Lagron, the deputy-suppleant had at last brought himself into order, and was speaking upon the question under debate. He contributed nothing of value to it; he urged nothing definite. His speech on the subject was very brief — that being the pretext74 and not the purpose for which he had ascended75 the tribune.
When later he was leaving the hall at the end of the sitting, with Le Chapelier at his side, he found himself densely76 surrounded by deputies as by a body-guard. Most of them were Bretons, who aimed at screening him from the provocations77 which his own provocative words in the Assembly could not fail to bring down upon his head. For a moment the massive form of Mirabeau brought up alongside of him.
“Felicitations, M. Moreau,” said the great man. “You acquitted78 yourself very well. They will want your blood, no doubt. But be discreet79, monsieur, if I may presume to advise you, and do not allow yourself to be misled by any false sense of quixotry. Ignore their challenges. I do so myself. I place each challenger upon my list. There are some fifty there already, and there they will remain. Refuse them what they are pleased to call satisfaction, and all will be well.” Andre–Louis smiled and sighed.
“It requires courage,” said the hypocrite.
“Of course it does. But you would appear to have plenty.”
“Hardly enough, perhaps. But I shall do my best.”
They had come through the vestibule, and although this was lined with eager Blacks waiting for the young man who had insulted them so flagrantly from the rostrum, Andre–Louis’ body-guard had prevented any of them from reaching him.
Emerging now into the open, under the great awning80 at the head of the Carriere, erected81 to enable carriages to reach the door under cover, those in front of him dispersed82 a little, and there was a moment as he reached the limit of the awning when his front was entirely83 uncovered. Outside the rain was falling heavily, churning the ground into thick mud, and for a moment Andre–Louis, with Le Chapelier ever at his side, stood hesitating to step out into the deluge84.
The watchful85 Chabrillane had seen his chance, and by a detour86 that took him momentarily out into the rain, he came face to face with the too-daring young Breton. Rudely, violently, he thrust Andre–Louis back, as if to make room for himself under the shelter.
Not for a second was Andre–Louis under any delusion87 as to the man’s deliberate purpose, nor were those who stood near him, who made a belated and ineffectual attempt to close about him. He was grievously disappointed. It was not Chabrillane he had been expecting. His disappointment was reflected on his countenance, to be mistaken for something very different by the arrogant88 Chevalier.
But if Chabrillane was the man appointed to deal with him, he would make the best of it.
“I think you are pushing against me, monsieur,” he said, very civilly, and with elbow and shoulder he thrust M. de Chabrillane back into the rain.
“I desire to take shelter, monsieur,” the Chevalier hectored.
“You may do so without standing89 on my feet. I have a prejudice against any one standing on my feet. My feet are very tender. Perhaps you did not know it, monsieur. Please say no more.”
“Why, I wasn’t speaking, you lout90!” exclaimed the Chevalier, slightly discomposed.
“Were you not? I thought perhaps you were about to apologize.”
“Apologize?” Chabrillane laughed. “To you! Do you know that you are amusing?” He stepped under the awning for the second time, and again in view of all thrust Andre–Louis rudely back.
“Ah!” cried Andre–Louis, with a grimace91. “You hurt me, monsieur. I have told you not to push against me.” He raised his voice that all might hear him, and once more impelled92 M. de Chabrillane back into the rain.
Now, for all his slenderness, his assiduous daily sword-practice had given Andre–Louis an arm of iron. Also he threw his weight into the thrust. His assailant reeled backwards93 a few steps, and then his heel struck a baulk of timber left on the ground by some workmen that morning, and he sat down suddenly in the mud.
A roar of laughter rose from all who witnessed the fine gentleman’s downfall. He rose, mud-bespattered, in a fury, and in that fury sprang at Andre–Louis.
Andre–Louis had made him ridiculous, which was altogether unforgivable.
“You shall meet me for this!” he spluttered. “I shall kill you for it.”
His inflamed face was within a foot of Andre–Louis’. Andre–Louis laughed. In the silence everybody heard the laugh and the words that followed.
“Oh, is that what you wanted? But why didn’t you say so before? You would have spared me the trouble of knocking you down. I thought gentlemen of your profession invariably conducted these affairs with decency94, decorum, and a certain grace. Had you done so, you might have saved your breeches.”
“How soon shall we settle this?” snapped Chabrillane, livid with very real fury.
“Whenever you please, monsieur. It is for you to say when it will suit your convenience to kill me. I think that was the intention you announced, was it not?” Andre–Louis was suavity95 itself.
“To-morrow morning, in the Bois. Perhaps you will bring a friend.”
“Certainly, monsieur. To-morrow morning, then. I hope we shall have fine weather. I detest96 the rain.”
Chabrillane looked at him almost with amazement97. Andre–Louis smiled pleasantly.
“Don’t let me detain you now, monsieur. We quite understand each other. I shall be in the Bois at nine o’clock to-morrow morning.”
“That is too late for me, monsieur.”
“Any other hour would be too early for me. I do not like to have my habits disturbed. Nine o’clock or not at all, as you please.”
“But I must be at the Assembly at nine, for the morning session.”
“I am afraid, monsieur, you will have to kill me first, and I have a prejudice against being killed before nine o’clock.”
Now this was too complete a subversion98 of the usual procedure for M. de Chabrillane’s stomach. Here was a rustic99 deputy assuming with him precisely100 the tone of sinister mockery which his class usually dealt out to their victims of the Third Estate. And to heighten the irritation101, Andre–Louis — the actor, Scaramouche always — produced his snuffbox, and proffered102 it with a steady hand to Le Chapelier before helping103 himself.
Chabrillane, it seemed, after all that he had suffered, was not even to be allowed to make a good exit.
“Very well, monsieur,” he said. “Nine o’clock, then; and we’ll see if you’ll talk as pertly afterwards.”
On that he flung away, before the jeers104 of the provincial105 deputies. Nor did it soothe106 his rage to be laughed at by urchins107 all the way down the Rue108 Dauphine because of the mud and filth109 that dripped from his satin breeches and the tails of his elegant, striped coat.
But though the members of the Third had jeered110 on the surface, they trembled underneath111 with fear and indignation. It was too much. Lagron killed by one of these bullies112, and now his successor challenged, and about to be killed by another of them on the very first day of his appearance to take the dead man’s place. Several came now to implore113 Andre–Louis not to go to the Bois, to ignore the challenge and the whole affair, which was but a deliberate attempt to put him out of the way. He listened seriously, shook his head gloomily, and promised at last to think it over.
He was in his seat again for the afternoon session as if nothing disturbed him.
But in the morning, when the Assembly met, his place was vacant, and so was M. de Chabrillane’s. Gloom and resentment114 sat upon the members of the Third, and brought a more than usually acrid115 note into their debates. They disapproved116 of the rashness of the new recruit to their body. Some openly condemned117 his lack of circumspection118. Very few — and those only the little group in Le Chapelier’s confidence — ever expected to see him again.
It was, therefore, as much in amazement as in relief that at a few minutes after ten they saw him enter, calm, composed, and bland119, and thread his way to his seat. The speaker occupying the rostrum at that moment — a member of the Privileged — stopped short to stare in incredulous dismay. Here was something that he could not understand at all. Then from somewhere, to satisfy the amazement on both sides of the assembly, a voice explained the phenomenon contemptuously.
“They haven’t met. He has shirked it at the last moment.”
It must be so, thought all; the mystification ceased, and men were settling back into their seats. But now, having reached his place, having heard the voice that explained the matter to the universal satisfaction, Andre–Louis paused before taking his seat. He felt it incumbent120 upon him to reveal the true fact.
“M. le President, my excuses for my late arrival.” There was no necessity for this. It was a mere piece of theatricality121, such as it was not in Scaramouche’s nature to forgo122. “I have been detained by an engagement of a pressing nature. I bring you also the excuses of M. de Chabrillane. He, unfortunately, will be permanently123 absent from this Assembly in future.”
The silence was complete. Andre–Louis sat down.
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1
allude
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| v.提及，暗指 | |
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hereditary
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| adj.遗传的，遗传性的，可继承的，世袭的 | |
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infamy
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| n.声名狼藉，出丑，恶行 | |
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gallows
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| n.绞刑架，绞台 | |
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defile
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| v.弄污，弄脏；n.(山间)小道 | |
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worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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blazon
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| n.纹章，装饰；精确描绘；v.广布；宣布 | |
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advertising
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| n.广告业；广告活动 a.广告的；广告业务的 | |
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glorify
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| vt.颂扬，赞美，使增光，美化 | |
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consigning
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| v.把…置于（令人不快的境地）( consign的现在分词 )；把…托付给；把…托人代售；丟弃 | |
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thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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repented
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| 对（自己的所为）感到懊悔或忏悔( repent的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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penetrated
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| adj. 击穿的，鞭辟入里的 动词penetrate的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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ascending
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| adj.上升的，向上的 | |
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din
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| n.喧闹声，嘈杂声 | |
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constituent
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| n.选民；成分，组分；adj.组成的，构成的 | |
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chambers
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| n.房间( chamber的名词复数 )；（议会的）议院；卧室；会议厅 | |
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antitheses
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| n.对照，对立的，对比法；对立( antithesis的名词复数 )；对立面；对照；对偶 | |
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adoption
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| n.采用，采纳，通过；收养 | |
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restive
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| adj.不安宁的，不安静的 | |
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pompous
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| adj.傲慢的，自大的；夸大的；豪华的 | |
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verbiage
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| n.冗词；冗长 | |
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ushers
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| n.引座员( usher的名词复数 )；招待员；门房；助理教员v.引，领，陪同( usher的第三人称单数 ) | |
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fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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gilded
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| a.镀金的，富有的 | |
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hissing
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intermittent
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abruptly
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expectancy
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| n.期望，预期，（根据概率统计求得）预期数额 | |
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apathy
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| n.漠不关心，无动于衷；冷淡 | |
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vice
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| n.坏事；恶习；[pl.]台钳，老虎钳；adj.副的 | |
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slain
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| 杀死，宰杀，杀戮( slay的过去分词 )； (slay的过去分词) | |
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sinister
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| adj.不吉利的，凶恶的，左边的 | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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uproar
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| n.骚动，喧嚣，鼎沸 | |
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agitated
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| adj.被鼓动的，不安的 | |
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countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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snob
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| n.势利小人，自以为高雅、有学问的人 | |
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prerogative
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| n.特权 | |
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attentively
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| adv.聚精会神地；周到地；谛；凝神 | |
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provocative
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| adj.挑衅的，煽动的，刺激的，挑逗的 | |
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discourse
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| n.论文，演说；谈话；话语；vi.讲述，著述 | |
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provocation
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| n.激怒，刺激，挑拨，挑衅的事物，激怒的原因 | |
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distinguished
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| adj.卓越的，杰出的，著名的 | |
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procured
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| v.（努力）取得， （设法）获得( procure的过去式和过去分词 )；拉皮条 | |
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zealous
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| adj.狂热的，热心的 | |
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inflamed
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| adj.发炎的，红肿的v.（使）变红，发怒，过热( inflame的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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eloquence
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| n.雄辩；口才，修辞 | |
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writhed
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| （因极度痛苦而）扭动或翻滚( writhe的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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vindictive
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| adj.有报仇心的，怀恨的，惩罚的 | |
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witty
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| adj.机智的，风趣的 | |
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momentary
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| adj.片刻的，瞬息的；短暂的 | |
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54
legislative
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| n.立法机构，立法权；adj.立法的，有立法权的 | |
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oration
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| n.演说，致辞，叙述法 | |
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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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57
rippling
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| 起涟漪的，潺潺流水般声音的 | |
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58
quenched
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| 解（渴）( quench的过去式和过去分词 )； 终止（某事物）； （用水）扑灭（火焰等）； 将（热物体）放入水中急速冷却 | |
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alluded
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| 提及，暗指( allude的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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allusion
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| n.暗示，间接提示 | |
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eloquent
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| adj.雄辩的，口才流利的；明白显示出的 | |
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murmur
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| n.低语，低声的怨言；v.低语，低声而言 | |
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proceeding
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| n.行动，进行，(pl.)会议录，学报 | |
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tortuously
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65
equitably
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| 公平地 | |
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morass
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| n.沼泽，困境 | |
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bankruptcy
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| n.破产；无偿付能力 | |
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rogue
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| n.流氓；v.游手好闲 | |
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bastard
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| n.坏蛋，混蛋；私生子 | |
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unwillingness
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| n. 不愿意，不情愿 | |
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justified
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| a.正当的，有理的 | |
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72
dubbing
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| n.配音v.给…起绰号( dub的现在分词 )；把…称为；配音；复制 | |
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73
incite
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| v.引起，激动，煽动 | |
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pretext
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| n.借口，托词 | |
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75
ascended
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| v.上升，攀登( ascend的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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densely
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| ad.密集地；浓厚地 | |
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provocations
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| n.挑衅( provocation的名词复数 )；激怒；刺激；愤怒的原因 | |
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78
acquitted
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| 宣判…无罪( acquit的过去式和过去分词 )； 使（自己）作出某种表现 | |
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discreet
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| adj.(言行)谨慎的；慎重的；有判断力的 | |
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awning
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| n.遮阳篷；雨篷 | |
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81
ERECTED
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| adj. 直立的，竖立的，笔直的 vt. 使 ... 直立，建立 | |
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dispersed
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| adj. 被驱散的, 被分散的, 散布的 | |
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83
entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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84
deluge
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| n./vt.洪水，暴雨，使泛滥 | |
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watchful
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| adj.注意的，警惕的 | |
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detour
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| n.绕行的路，迂回路；v.迂回，绕道 | |
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delusion
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| n.谬见，欺骗，幻觉，迷惑 | |
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arrogant
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| adj.傲慢的，自大的 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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lout
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| n.粗鄙的人；举止粗鲁的人 | |
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grimace
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| v.做鬼脸，面部歪扭 | |
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impelled
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| v.推动、推进或敦促某人做某事( impel的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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backwards
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| adv.往回地，向原处，倒，相反，前后倒置地 | |
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decency
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| n.体面，得体，合宜，正派，庄重 | |
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suavity
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| n.温和；殷勤 | |
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detest
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| vt.痛恨，憎恶 | |
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amazement
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| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
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subversion
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| n.颠覆，破坏 | |
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99
rustic
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| adj.乡村的，有乡村特色的；n.乡下人，乡巴佬 | |
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precisely
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| adv.恰好，正好，精确地，细致地 | |
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101
irritation
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| n.激怒，恼怒，生气 | |
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102
proffered
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| v.提供，贡献，提出( proffer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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103
helping
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| n.食物的一份&adj.帮助人的，辅助的 | |
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104
jeers
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| n.操纵帆桁下部（使其上下的）索具；嘲讽( jeer的名词复数 )v.嘲笑( jeer的第三人称单数 ) | |
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provincial
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| adj.省的，地方的；n．外省人，乡下人 | |
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soothe
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| v.安慰；使平静；使减轻；缓和；奉承 | |
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107
urchins
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| n.顽童( urchin的名词复数 )；淘气鬼；猬；海胆 | |
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108
rue
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| n.懊悔，芸香，后悔；v.后悔，悲伤，懊悔 | |
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109
filth
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| n.肮脏，污物，污秽；淫猥 | |
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110
jeered
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| v.嘲笑( jeer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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111
underneath
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| adj.在...下面，在...底下；adv.在下面 | |
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112
bullies
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| n.欺凌弱小者, 开球 vt.恐吓, 威胁, 欺负 | |
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113
implore
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| vt.乞求，恳求，哀求 | |
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114
resentment
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| n.怨愤，忿恨 | |
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115
acrid
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| adj.辛辣的，尖刻的，刻薄的 | |
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116
disapproved
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| v.不赞成( disapprove的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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117
condemned
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| adj. 被责难的, 被宣告有罪的 动词condemn的过去式和过去分词 | |
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118
circumspection
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| n.细心，慎重 | |
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119
bland
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| adj.淡而无味的，温和的，无刺激性的 | |
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120
incumbent
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| adj.成为责任的，有义务的；现任的，在职的 | |
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121
theatricality
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| n.戏剧风格，不自然 | |
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122
forgo
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| v.放弃，抛弃 | |
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123
permanently
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| adv.永恒地，永久地，固定不变地 | |
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