Prior to this act of vassalage7, Edward I., King of England, had entered Scotland at the head of an immense army. He seized Berwick by stratagem8; laid the country in ashes; and, on the field of Dunbar, forced the Scottish king and his nobles to acknowledge him their liege lord.
But while the courts of Edward, or of his representatives, were crowded by the humbled9 Scots, the spirit of one brave man remained unsubdued. Disgusted alike at the facility with which the sovereign of a warlike nation could resign his people and his crown into the hands of a treacherous10 invader11, and at the pusillanimity12 of the nobles who had ratified13 the sacrifice, William Wallace retired14 to the glen of Ellerslie. Withdrawn15 from the world, he hoped to avoid the sight of oppressions he could not redress17, and the endurance of injuries beyond his power to avenge18.
Thus checked at the opening of life in the career of glory that was his passion-secluded in the bloom of manhood from the social haunts of men-he repressed the eager aspirations19 of his mind, and strove to acquire that resignation to inevitable20 evils which alone could reconcile him to forego the promises of his youth, and enable him to view with patience a humiliation21 of Scotland, which blighted22 her honor, menaced her existence, and consigned23 her sons to degradation24 or obscurity. The latter was the choice of Wallace. Too noble to bend his spirit to the usurper25, too honest to affect submission, he resigned himself to the only way left of maintaining the independence of a true Scot; and giving up the world at once, all the ambitions of youth became extinguished in his breast, since nothing was preserved in his country to sanctify their fires. Scotland seemed proud of her chains. Not to share in such debasement, appeared all that was now in his power; and within the shades of Ellerslie he found a retreat and a home, whose sweets beguiling26 him of every care, made him sometimes forget the wrongs of his country in the tranquil27 enjoyments28 of wedded29 love.
During the happy mouths of the preceding autumn, while Scotland was yet free, and the path of honorable distinction still open before her young nobility, Wallace married Marion Braidfoot, the beautiful heiress of Lammington. Nearly of the same age, and brought up from childhood together, reciprocal affection had grown with their growth; and sympathy of tastes and virtues30, and mutual31 tenderness, made them so entirely32 one, that when at the age of twenty-two the enraptured33 lover was allowed to pledge that faith publicly at the altar, which he had so often vowed35 in secret to his Marion, he clasped her to his heart, and softly whispered: “Dearer than life! part of my being! blessed is this union, that mingles36 thy soul with mine, now, and forever!”
Edward’s invasion of Scotland broke in upon their innocent joys. Wallace threw aside the wedding garment for the cuirass and the sword. But he was not permitted long to use either-Scotland submitted to her enemies; and he had no alternative but to bow to her oppressors, or to become an exile from man, amid the deep glens of his country.
The tower of Ellerslie was henceforth the lonely abode38 of himself and his bride. The neighboring nobles avoided him, because the principles he declared were a tacit reproach on their proceedings39; and in the course of a short time, as he forbore to seek them, they even forgot that he was in existence. Indeed, all occasions of mixing with society he now rejected. The hunting-spear with which he had delighted to follow the flying roebuck from glade41 to glade, the arrows with which he used to bring down the heavy ptarmigan or the towering eagle, all were laid aside. Scottish liberty was no more; and Wallace would have blushed to have shown himself to the free-born deer of his native hills, in communion of sports with the spoilers of his country. Had he pursued his once favorite exercises, he must have mingled42 with the English, now garrisoned43 in every town, and who passed their hours of leisure in the chase.
Being resigned to bury his youth-since its strength could no longer be serviceable to his country-books, his harp45, and the sweet converse46 of his tender Marion, became the occupations of his days. Ellerslie was his hermitage; and there, closed from the world, with an angel his companion, he might have forgotten Edward was lord in Scotland, had not that which was without his little paradise made a way to its gates, and showed him the slavery of the nobles and the wretchedness of the people. In these cases, his generous hand gave succor48 where it could not bring redress. Those whom the lawless plunderer50 had driven from their houses or stripped of their covering, found shelter, clothing, and food at the house of Sir William Wallace.
Ellerslie was the refuge of the friendless, and the comfort of the unhappy. Wherever Lady Wallace moved-whether looking out from her window on the accidental passenger, or taking her morning or moonlight walks through the glen, leaning on the arm of her husband-she had the rapture34 of hearing his steps greeted and followed by the blessings51 of the poor destitute53, and the prayers of them who were ready to perish. It was then that this happy woman would raise her husband’s hands to her lips, and in silent adoration54, thank God for blessing52 her with a being made so truly in his own image.
Several months of this blissful and uninterrupted solitude55 had elapsed, when Lady Wallace saw a chieftain at her gate. He inquired for its master-requested a private conference-and retired with him into a remote room. They remained together for an hour. Wallace then came forth37, and ordering his horse, with four followers56, to be in readiness, said he meant to accompany his guest to Douglas Castle. When he embraced his wife at parting, he told her that as Douglas was only a few miles distant, he should be at home again before the moon rose.
She passed the tedious hours of his absence with tranquillity57, till the appointed signal of his return appeared from behind the summits of the opposite mountains. So bright were its beams, that Marion did not need any other light to show her the stealing sands of her hour-glass, as they numbered the prolonged hours of her husband’s stay. She dismissed her servants to their rest; all, excepting Halbert, the gray-haired harper of Wallace; and he, like herself, was too unaccustomed to the absence of his master to find sleep visit his eyes while Ellerslie was bereft58 of its joy and its guard.
As the night advanced, Lady Wallace sat in the window of her bed-chamber, which looked toward the west. She watched the winding59 pathway that led from Lanark down the opposite heights, eager to catch a glimpse of the waving plumes60 of her husband when he should emerge from behind the hill, and pass under the thicket61 which overhung the road. How often, as a cloud obscured for an instant the moon’s light, and threw a transitory shade across the path, did her heart bound with the thought that her watching was at an end! It was he whom she had seen start from the abrupt62 rock! They were the folds of his tartan that darkened the white cliff! But the moon again rolled through her train of clouds and threw her light around. Where then was her Wallace? Alas63! it was only a shadow she had seen! the hill was still lonely, and he whom she sought was yet far away! Overcome with watching, expectation, and disappointment, unable to say whence arose her fears, she sat down again to look; but her eyes were blinded with tears, and in a voice interrupted by sighs she exclaimed, “Not yet, not yet! Ah, my Wallace, what evil hath betided thee?”
Trembling with a nameless terror, she knew not what to dread64. She believed that all hostile recounters had ceased, when Scotland no longer contended with Edward. The nobles, without remonstrance65, had surrendered their castles into the hands of the usurper; and the peasantry, following the example of their lords, had allowed their homes to be ravaged66 without lifting an arm in their defense67. Opposition68 being over, nothing could then threaten her husband from the enemy; and was not the person who had taken him from Ellerslie a friend?
Before Wallace’s departure he had spoken to Marion alone; he told her that the stranger was Sir John Monteith, the youngest son of the brave Walter Lord Monteith,1 who had been treacherously70 put to death by the English in the early part of the foregoing year. This young man was bequeathed by his dying father to the particular charge of his friend William Lord Douglas, at that time governor of Berwick. After the fall of that place and the captivity71 of its defender72, Sir Jon Monteith had retired to Douglas Castle, in the vicinity of Lanark, and was now the sole master of that princely residence: James Douglas, the only son of its veteran lord, being still at Paris, whither he had been dispatched, before the defeat at Dunbar, to negotiate a league between the French monarch73 and the then King of Scots.
1 Walter Stewart, the father of Sir John Monteith, assumed the name and earldom of Monteith in right of his wife, the daughter and heiress of the preceding earl. When his wife died he married an Englishwoman of rank, who, finding him ardently74 attached to the liberties of his country, cut him off by poison, and was rewarded by the enemies of Scotland for this murder with the hand of a British nobleman.-(1809.)
Informed of the privacy in which Wallace wished to live, Monteith had never ventured to disturb it until this day; but knowing the steady honor of his old school-companion, he came to entreat75 him, by the respect he entertained for the brave Douglas, and by his love for his country, that he would not refuse to accompany him to the brave exile’s castle.
“I have a secret to disclose to you,” said he, “which cannot be divulged76 on any other spot.”
Unwilling77 to deny so small a favor, Wallace, as has been said before, consented; and accordingly was conducted by Monteith toward Douglas.
While descending78 the heights which led to the castle, Monteith kept a profound silence; and when crossing the drawbridge toward it, he put his finger to his lips, in token to the servants for equal caution. This was explained as they entered the gate and looked around. It was guarded by English soldiers. Wallace would have drawn16 back; but Monteith laid his hand on his arm, and whispered, “For your country!” At these words, a spell to the ear of Wallace, he proceeded; and his attendants followed into the courtyard.
The sun was just setting as Monteith led his friend into the absent earl’s room. Its glowing reflection on the distant hills reminded Wallace of the stretch he had to retread to reach his home before midnight; and thinking of his anxious Marion, he awaited with impatience79 the development of the object of his journey.
Monteith closed the door, looked fearfully around for some time; then, trembling at every step, approached Wallace. When drawn quite near, in a low voice he said, “You must swear upon the cross that you will keep inviolate81 the secret I am going to reveal.”
Wallace put aside the hilt of the sword which Monteith presented to receive his oath. “No,” said he, with a smile; “in these times I will not bind82 my conscience on subjects I do not know. If you dare trust the word of a Scotsman and a friend, speak out; and if the matter be honest, my honor is your pledge.”
“You will not swear?”
“No.”
“Then I must not trust you.”
“Then our business is at an end,” returned Wallace, rising, “and I may return home.”
“Stop!” cried Monteith. “Forgive me, my old companion, that I have dared to hesitate. These are, indeed, times of such treason to honor, that I do not wonder you should be careful how you swear; but the nature of the confidence reposed84 in me will. I hope, convince you that I ought not to share it rashly. Of any one but you, whose truth stands unsullied, amidst the faithlessness of the best, I would exact oaths on oaths; but your words is given, and on that I rely. Await me here.”
Monteith unlocked a door which had been concealed85 by the tapestry86, and after a short absence re-entered with a small iron box. He set it on the table near his friend, then went to the great door, which he had before so carefully closed, tried that the bolts were secure, and returned, with a still more pallid87 countenance88, toward the table. Wallace, surprised at so much actions, awaited with wonder the promised explanation. Monteith sat down with his hand on the box, and fixing his eyes on it, began:
“I am going to mention a name, which you may hear with patience, since its power is no more. The successful rival of Bruce, and the enemy of your family, is now a prisoner in the Tower of London.”
“Baliol?”
“Yes,” answered Monteith; “and his present sufferings will, perhaps, avenge to you his vindictive89 resentment90 of the injury he received from Sir Ronald Crawford.”
“My grandfather never injured him, nor any man!” interrupted Wallace: “Sir Ronald Crawford was as incapable91 of injustice92 as of flattering the minions93 of his country’s enemy. But Baliol is fallen, and I forgive him.”
“Did you witness his degradation,” returned Monteith, “you would even pity him.”
“I always pity the wicked,” continued Wallace; “and as you seem ignorant of the cause of his enmity against Sir Ronald and myself, in justice to the character of that most venerable of men, I will explain it. I first saw Baliol four years ago, when I accompanied my grandfather to witness the arbitration94 of the King of Scotland between the two contending claimants for the Scottish crown. Sir Ronald came on the part of Bruce. I was deemed too young to have a voice in the council; but I was old enough to understand what was passing there, and to perceive, that it was the price for which he sold his country. However, as Scotland acknowledged him sovereign, and as Bruce submitted, my grandfather silently acquiesced95. But Baliol did not forget former opposition. His behavior to Sir Ronald and myself at the beginning of this year, when, according to the privilege of our birth, we appeared in the field against the public enemy, fully80 demonstrated what was the injury Baliol complains of, and how unjustly he drove us from the standard of Scotland. ‘None,’ said he, ‘shall serve under me, who presumed to declare themselves the friends of Bruce.’ Poor weak man. The purchased vassal6 of England; yet so vain of his ideal throne, he hated all who had opposed his elevation96, even while his own treachery sapped its foundation! Edward having made use of him, all these sacrifices of honor and of conscience are insufficient97 to retain his favor; and Baliol is removed from his kingdom to an English prison! Can I feel anything so honoring as indignation against a wretch47 so abject98? No! I do indeed pity him. And now that I have cleared my grandfather’s name of such calumny99, I am ready to hear you further.”
Monteith, after remarking on the well-known honor of Sir Ronald Crawford, resumed.
“During the massacre100 at the capture of Berwick, Lord Douglas, wounded, and nearly insensible, was taken by a trusty band of Scots out of the citadel101 and town. I followed him to Dunbar, and witnessed with him that dreadful day’s conflict, which completed the triumph of the English. When the few nobles who survived the battle dispersed102, Douglas took the road to Forfar, hoping to meet King Baliol there, and to concert with him new plans of resistance. When we arrived, we found his majesty103 in close conversation with the Earl of Athol, who had persuaded him the disaster at Dunbar was decisive, and that if he wished to save his life, he must immediately go to the King of England, then at Montrose, and surrender himself to his mercy.2
2 This treacherous Scot, who persuaded Baliol to his ruin, was John Cummin of Strathbogie, Earl of Athol in right of his wife, the heiress of that earldom.-(1809.)
“Douglas tried to alter Baliol’s resolution, but without effect. The king could not return any reasonable answers to the arguments which were offered to induce him to remain, but continued to repeat, with groans105 and tears. ‘It is my fate.’ Athol sat knitting his black brows during this conversation; and at last throwing out some sullen106 remarks to Lord Douglas on exhorting107 the king to defy his liege lord, he abruptly108 left the room.
“As soon as he was gone, Baliol rose from his seat with a very anxious countenance, and taking my patron into an adjoining room, they continued there a few minutes, and then reentered. Doublas brought with him this iron box. ‘Monteith,’ said he, ‘I confide83 this to your care.’ Putting the box under my arm and concealing109 it with my cloak-‘Carry it,’ continued he, ‘directly to my castle in Lanarkshire. I will rejoin you there, in four-and-twenty hours after your arrival. Meanwhile, by your affection for me and fidelity110 to your king, breathe not a word of what has passed.’
“‘Look on that, and be faithful!’ said Baliol, putting this ruby111 ring on my finger. I withdrew, with the haste his look dictated112; and as I crossed the outward hall, was met by Athol. He eyed me sternly, and inquired whither I was going. I replied, ‘To Douglas, to prepare for the coming of its lord.’ The hall was full of armed men in Athol’s colors. Not one of the remnant who had followed my patron from the bloody113 field of Dunbar was visible. Athol looked round on his myrmidons: ‘Here,’ cried he, ‘see that you speed this fellow on his journey. We shall provide lodgings114 for his master.’ I foresaw danger to Lord Douglas, but I durst not attempt to warn him of it; and, to secure my charge, which a return to the room might have hazarded, I hastened into the courtyard, and being permitted to mount my horse, set off at full speed.
“On arriving at this place, I remembered the secret closet, and carefully deposited the box within it. A week passed, without any tidings of Lord Douglas. At last a pilgrim appeared at the gate, and requested to see me alone; fearing nothing from a man in so sacred a habit, I admitted him. Presenting me with a packet which had been intrusted to him by Lord Douglas, he told me my patron had been forcibly carried on board a vessel115 at Montrose, to be conveyed with the unhappy Baliol to the Tower of London. Douglas, on this outrage116, sent to the monastery117 at Aberbrothick, and under the pretense118 of making a religious confession119 before he sailed, begged a visit from the sub-prior. ‘I am that prior,’ continued the pilgrim; ‘and having been born on the Douglas lands, he well knew the claim he had to my fidelity. He gave me this packet, and conjured120 me to lose no time in conveying it to you. The task was difficult; and, as in these calamitous121 seasons we hardly know whom to trust, I determined122 to execute it myself.’
“I inquired whether Lord Douglas had actually sailed. ‘Yes,’ replied the father; ‘I stood on the beach till the ship disappeared.’”
A half-stifled groan104 burst from the indignant breast of Wallace. It interrupted Monteith for an instant, but without noticing it he proceeded:
“Not only the brave Douglas was then wrested123 from his country, with our king, but also that holy pillar of Jacob3 which prophets have declared to be the palladium of Scotland!”
3 The tradition respecting this stone is as follows: Hiber, or Iber, the Phoenician, who came from the Holy Land to inhabit the coast of Spain, brought this sacred relic124 along with him. From Spain he transplanted it with the colony he sent to people the south of Ireland; and from Ireland it was brought into Scotland by the great Fergus, the son of Ferchard. He placed it in Argyleshire; but MacAlpine removed it to Scone125, and fixed126 it in the royal chair in which all the succeeding kings of Scotland were inaugurated. Edward I. of England caused it to be carried to Westminster Abbey, where it now stands. The tradition is, that empire abides127 where it stays.-(1809.)
“What!” inquired Wallace, with a yet darker frown, “has Baliol robbed Scotland of that trophy128 of one of her best kings? Is the sacred gift of Fergus to be made the spoil of a coward?”
“Baliol is not the robber,” rejoined Monteith; “the halloed pillar was taken from Scone by the command of the King of England, and, with the sackings of Iona, was carried on board the same vessel with the betrayed Douglas. The archives of the kingdom have also been torn from their sanctuary129, and were thrown by Edward’s own hands into the fire.”
“Tyrant!” murmured Wallace, “thou mayest fill the cup too full.”
“His depredations,” continued Monteith, “the good monk131 told me, have been wide as destructive. He has not left a parchment, either of public records or of private annals, in any of the monasteries132 or castles round Montrose; all have been searched and plundered133. And besides, the faithless Earl of March and Lord Sculis are such parricides of their country, as to have performed the like robberies, in his name, from the eastern shores of the Highlands to the furthiest of the Western Isles134.”
“Do the traitors135 think,” cried Wallace, “that by robbing Scotland of her annals and of that stone they really deprive her of her palladium? Scotland’s history is in the memories of her sons; her palladium is in their hearts; and Edward may one day find that she remembers the victory of Largs,4 and needs not talismans137 to give her freedom.”
4 This battle was fought by Alexander III, on the 1st of August, 1263, against Acho, King of Norway. That monarch invaded Scotland with a large army, and drew up his forces before Largs, a town in Ayrshire. He met with a great defeat, and, covered with disgrace, retired to his own country. Wallace’s father signalized himself on that field.-(1809.)
“Alas! not in our time!” answered Monteith. “The spear is at our breasts, and we must submit. You see this castle is full of Edward’s soldiers. Every house is a garrison44 for England-but more of this by and by; I have yet to tell you the contents of the packet which the monk brought. It contained two others. One directed to Sir James Douglas, at Paris, and the other to me. I read as follows:
“‘Athol has persuaded Baliol to his ruin, and betrayed me into the hands of Edward. I shall see Scotland no more. Send the inclosed to my son at Paris; it will inform him what is the last wish of William Douglas for his country. The iron box I confided138 to you, guard as your life, until you can deposit it with my son. But should he remain abroad, and you ever be in extremity139, commit the box in strict charge to the worthiest140 Scot you know; and tell him that it will be at the peril141 of his soul, who dares to open it, till Scotland be again free! When that hour comes, then let the man by whose valor142 God restores her rights, receive the box as his own; for by him only it is to be opened. Douglas.’”
Monteith finished reading the letter, and remained silent. Wallace, who had listened to it with increasing indignation against the enemies of Scotland, spoke69 first: “Tell me in what I can assist you: or how serve these last wishes of the imprisoned143 Douglas.”
Monteith replied by reading over again this sentence-”‘Should my son remain abroad, and you ever be in extremity, commit the box in strict charge to the worthiest Scot you know.’ I am in that extremity now. Edward determined on desolation, when he placed English governors throughout our towns; and the rapacious144 Heselrigge, his representative in Lanark, not backward to execute the despot’s will, has just issued an order, for the houses of all the absent chiefs to be searched for records and secret correspondence. Two or three, in the neighborhood have already gone through this ordeal145; but the even has proved that it was not papers they sought, but plunder49, and an excuse for dismantling146 the castles, or occupying them with English officers.
“The soldiers you saw were sent, by daybreak this morning, to guard this castle until Heselrigge could in person be present at the examination. This ceremony is to take place to-morrow; and as Lord Douglas is considered a traitor136 to Edward, I am told the place will be sacked to its walls. In such an extremity, to you, noble Wallace, as to the worthiest Scot I know, I apply to take charge of this box. Within the remote cliffs of Ellerslie it must be safe; and when James Douglas arrives from Paris, to him you will resign it. Meanwhile, as I cannot resist the plunderers, after delivering the keys of the state apartments to Heselrigge to-morrow, I shall submit to necessity, and beg his permission to retire to my lodge147 on Ben Venu.”
Wallace made no difficulty in granting Monteith’s request; and, there being two iron rings on each side of his charge, the young chief took off his leathern belt, and putting it through them, swung the box easily under his left arm, while covering it with his plaid.
Monteith’s eyes now brightened-the paleness left his cheek-and with a firmer step, as if suddenly relieved of a heavy load, he called a servant to prepare Sir William Wallace’s attendants.
While Wallace shook him by the hand, Monteith, in a low and solemn voice, exhorted148 him to caution respecting the box. “Remember,” added he, “the penalty that hangs over him who looks into it.”
“Be not afraid,” answered Wallace; “even the outside shall never be seen by other eyes than my own, unless the same circumstance which now induces you, mortal extremity, should force me to confide it to safer hands.”
“Beware of that!” exclaimed Monteith; “for who is there that would adhere to the prohibition149 as I have done-as you will do? and besides, as I have no doubt it contains holy relics150, who knows what new calamities151 a sacrilegious look might bring upon our already devoted152 country?”
“Relics or no relics,” replied Wallace, “it would be an equal sin against good faith to invade what is forbidden: but from the weight I am rather inclined to suspect it contains gold; probably a treasure, with which the sordid153 Baliol thinks to compensate154 the hero who may free his country from all the miseries155 a traitor king and a treacherous usurper have brought upon it.”
“A treasure!” repeated Monteith; “I never thought of that;-it is indeed heavy!-and, as we are responsible for the contents of the box, I wish we were certain of what it contains; let us consider that!”
“It is no consideration of ours,” returned Wallace. “With what is in the box we have no concern; all we have to do is, to preserve the contents unviolated by even our own eyes; and to that, as you have now transferred the charge to me, I pledge myself-farewell.”
“But why this haste?” rejoined Monteith, “indeed, I wish I had thought-stay only a little.”
“I thank you,” returned Wallace, proceeding40 to the courtyard; “but it is now dark, and I promised to be at home before the moon rises. If you wish me to serve you further, I shall be happy to see you at Ellerslie to-morrow. My Marion will have pleasure in entertaining, for days or weeks, the friend of her husband.”
While Wallace spoke, he advanced to his horse, to which he was lighted by the servants of the castle. A few English soldiers lingered about in idle curiosity. As he put his foot in the stirrup, he held the sword in his hand, which he had unbuckled from his side to leave space for his charge. Monteith, whose dread of detection was ever awake, whispered: “Your loosened weapon may excite suspicion!” Fear incurred156 what it sought to avoid. He hastily pulled aside Wallace’s plaid to throw it over the glittering hilt of the sword, and thus exposed the iron box. The light of the torches striking upon the polished rivets157, displayed it to all lookers on, but no remark was made. Wallace, not observing what was done, again shook hands with Monteith, and calling his servants about him, galloped158 away. A murmur130 was heard, as if of some intention to follow him; but deeming it prudent159 to leave the open and direct road, because of the English marauders who swarmed160 there, he was presently lost amid the thick shades of Clydesdale.
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
desolated
|
|
| adj.荒凉的，荒废的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
vanquished
|
|
| v.征服( vanquish的过去式和过去分词 )；战胜；克服；抑制 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
yoke
|
|
| n.轭；支配；v.给...上轭，连接，使成配偶 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
submission
|
|
| n.服从，投降；温顺，谦虚；提出 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
conqueror
|
|
| n.征服者，胜利者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
vassal
|
|
| n.附庸的；属下；adj.奴仆的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
vassalage
|
|
| n.家臣身份，隶属 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
stratagem
|
|
| n.诡计，计谋 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
humbled
|
|
| adj. 卑下的，谦逊的，粗陋的 vt. 使 ... 卑下，贬低 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
treacherous
|
|
| adj.不可靠的，有暗藏的危险的；adj.背叛的，背信弃义的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
invader
|
|
| n.侵略者，侵犯者，入侵者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
pusillanimity
|
|
| n.无气力，胆怯 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
|
13
ratified
|
|
| v.批准，签认（合约等）( ratify的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
retired
|
|
| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
withdrawn
|
|
| vt.收回；使退出；vi.撤退，退出 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
drawn
|
|
| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
redress
|
|
| n.赔偿，救济，矫正；v.纠正，匡正，革除 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
avenge
|
|
| v.为...复仇，为...报仇 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
aspirations
|
|
| 强烈的愿望( aspiration的名词复数 )； 志向； 发送气音； 发 h 音 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
inevitable
|
|
| adj.不可避免的，必然发生的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
humiliation
|
|
| n.羞辱 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
blighted
|
|
| adj.枯萎的，摧毁的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
consigned
|
|
| v.把…置于（令人不快的境地）( consign的过去式和过去分词 )；把…托付给；把…托人代售；丟弃 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
degradation
|
|
| n.降级；低落；退化；陵削；降解；衰变 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
usurper
|
|
| n. 篡夺者, 僭取者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
beguiling
|
|
| adj.欺骗的，诱人的v.欺骗( beguile的现在分词 )；使陶醉；使高兴；消磨（时间等） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
tranquil
|
|
| adj. 安静的, 宁静的, 稳定的, 不变的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
enjoyments
|
|
| 愉快( enjoyment的名词复数 )； 令人愉快的事物； 享有； 享受 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
wedded
|
|
| adj.正式结婚的；渴望…的，执著于…的v.嫁，娶，（与…）结婚( wed的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
virtues
|
|
| 美德( virtue的名词复数 )； 德行； 优点； 长处 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
mutual
|
|
| adj.相互的，彼此的；共同的，共有的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
entirely
|
|
| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
enraptured
|
|
| v.使狂喜( enrapture的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
rapture
|
|
| n.狂喜；全神贯注；着迷；v.使狂喜 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
vowed
|
|
| 起誓，发誓（vow的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
mingles
|
|
| 混合，混入( mingle的第三人称单数 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
forth
|
|
| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
abode
|
|
| n.住处，住所 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
proceedings
|
|
| n.进程，过程，议程；诉讼(程序)；公报 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
proceeding
|
|
| n.行动，进行，(pl.)会议录，学报 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
glade
|
|
| n.林间空地，一片表面有草的沼泽低地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
mingled
|
|
| 混合，混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
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： |
|
|
|
|
44
garrison
|
|
| n.卫戍部队；驻地，卫戍区；vt.派(兵)驻防 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
harp
|
|
| n.竖琴；天琴座 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
converse
|
|
| vi.谈话，谈天，闲聊；adv.相反的，相反 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
wretch
|
|
| n.可怜的人，不幸的人；卑鄙的人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
succor
|
|
| n.援助，帮助；v.给予帮助 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
plunder
|
|
| vt.劫掠财物，掠夺；n.劫掠物，赃物；劫掠 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
plunderer
|
|
| 掠夺者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
blessings
|
|
| n.（上帝的）祝福( blessing的名词复数 )；好事；福分；因祸得福 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
blessing
|
|
| n.祈神赐福；祷告；祝福，祝愿 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
destitute
|
|
| adj.缺乏的；穷困的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
adoration
|
|
| n.爱慕，崇拜 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
solitude
|
|
| n. 孤独; 独居,荒僻之地,幽静的地方 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
followers
|
|
| 追随者( follower的名词复数 )； 用户； 契据的附面； 从动件 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
tranquillity
|
|
| n. 平静, 安静 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
58
bereft
|
|
| adj.被剥夺的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
59
winding
|
|
| n.绕，缠，绕组，线圈 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
plumes
|
|
| 羽毛( plume的名词复数 )； 羽毛饰； 羽毛状物； 升上空中的羽状物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
61
thicket
|
|
| n.灌木丛，树林 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
62
abrupt
|
|
| adj.突然的，意外的；唐突的，鲁莽的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
63
alas
|
|
| int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
64
dread
|
|
| vt.担忧，忧虑；惧怕，不敢；n.担忧，畏惧 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
65
remonstrance
|
|
| n抗议，抱怨 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
66
ravaged
|
|
| 毁坏( ravage的过去式和过去分词 )； 蹂躏； 劫掠； 抢劫 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
67
defense
|
|
| n.防御，保卫；[pl.]防务工事；辩护，答辩 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
68
opposition
|
|
| n.反对，敌对 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
69
spoke
|
|
| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
70
treacherously
|
|
| 背信弃义地； 背叛地； 靠不住地； 危险地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
71
captivity
|
|
| n.囚禁；被俘；束缚 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
72
defender
|
|
| n.保卫者，拥护者，辩护人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
73
monarch
|
|
| n.帝王，君主，最高统治者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
74
ardently
|
|
| adv.热心地，热烈地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
75
entreat
|
|
| v.恳求，恳请 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
76
divulged
|
|
| v.吐露，泄露( divulge的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
77
unwilling
|
|
| adj.不情愿的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
78
descending
|
|
| n. 下行 adj. 下降的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
79
impatience
|
|
| n.不耐烦，急躁 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
80
fully
|
|
| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
81
inviolate
|
|
| adj.未亵渎的，未受侵犯的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
82
bind
|
|
| vt.捆，包扎；装订；约束；使凝固；vi.变硬 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
83
confide
|
|
| v.向某人吐露秘密 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
84
reposed
|
|
| v.将（手臂等）靠在某人（某物）上( repose的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
85
concealed
|
|
| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
86
tapestry
|
|
| n.挂毯，丰富多采的画面 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
87
pallid
|
|
| adj.苍白的，呆板的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
88
countenance
|
|
| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
89
vindictive
|
|
| adj.有报仇心的，怀恨的，惩罚的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
90
resentment
|
|
| n.怨愤，忿恨 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
91
incapable
|
|
| adj.无能力的，不能做某事的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
92
injustice
|
|
| n.非正义，不公正，不公平，侵犯（别人的）权利 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
93
minions
|
|
| n.奴颜婢膝的仆从( minion的名词复数 )；走狗；宠儿；受人崇拜者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
94
arbitration
|
|
| n.调停，仲裁 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
95
acquiesced
|
|
| v.默认，默许( acquiesce的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
96
elevation
|
|
| n.高度；海拔；高地；上升；提高 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
97
insufficient
|
|
| adj.(for，of)不足的，不够的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
98
abject
|
|
| adj.极可怜的，卑屈的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
99
calumny
|
|
| n.诽谤，污蔑，中伤 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
100
massacre
|
|
| n.残杀，大屠杀；v.残杀，集体屠杀 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
101
citadel
|
|
| n.城堡；堡垒；避难所 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
102
dispersed
|
|
| adj. 被驱散的, 被分散的, 散布的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
103
majesty
|
|
| n.雄伟，壮丽，庄严，威严；最高权威，王权 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
104
groan
|
|
| vi./n.呻吟，抱怨；(发出)呻吟般的声音 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
105
groans
|
|
| n.呻吟，叹息( groan的名词复数 )；呻吟般的声音v.呻吟( groan的第三人称单数 )；发牢骚；抱怨；受苦 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
106
sullen
|
|
| adj.愠怒的，闷闷不乐的，(天气等)阴沉的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
107
exhorting
|
|
| v.劝告，劝说( exhort的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
108
abruptly
|
|
| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
109
concealing
|
|
| v.隐藏，隐瞒，遮住( conceal的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
110
fidelity
|
|
| n.忠诚，忠实；精确 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
111
ruby
|
|
| n.红宝石，红宝石色 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
112
dictated
|
|
| v.大声讲或读( dictate的过去式和过去分词 )；口授；支配；摆布 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
113
bloody
|
|
| adj.非常的的；流血的；残忍的；adv.很；vt.血染 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
114
lodgings
|
|
| n. 出租的房舍, 寄宿舍 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
115
vessel
|
|
| n.船舶；容器，器皿；管，导管，血管 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
116
outrage
|
|
| n.暴行，侮辱，愤怒；vt.凌辱，激怒 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
117
monastery
|
|
| n.修道院，僧院，寺院 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
118
pretense
|
|
| n.矫饰，做作，借口 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
119
confession
|
|
| n.自白，供认，承认 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
120
conjured
|
|
| 用魔术变出( conjure的过去式和过去分词 )； 祈求，恳求； 变戏法； （变魔术般地） 使…出现 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
121
calamitous
|
|
| adj.灾难的，悲惨的；多灾多难；惨重 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
122
determined
|
|
| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
123
wrested
|
|
| （用力）拧( wrest的过去式和过去分词 )； 费力取得； （从…）攫取； （ 从… ） 强行取去… | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
124
relic
|
|
| n.神圣的遗物，遗迹，纪念物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
125
scone
|
|
| n.圆饼，甜饼，司康饼 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
126
fixed
|
|
| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
127
abides
|
|
| 容忍( abide的第三人称单数 )； 等候； 逗留； 停留 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
128
trophy
|
|
| n.优胜旗，奖品，奖杯，战胜品，纪念品 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
129
sanctuary
|
|
| n.圣所，圣堂，寺庙；禁猎区，保护区 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
130
murmur
|
|
| n.低语，低声的怨言；v.低语，低声而言 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
131
monk
|
|
| n.和尚，僧侣，修道士 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
132
monasteries
|
|
| 修道院( monastery的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
133
plundered
|
|
| 掠夺，抢劫( plunder的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
134
isles
|
|
| 岛( isle的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
135
traitors
|
|
| 卖国贼( traitor的名词复数 )； 叛徒； 背叛者； 背信弃义的人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
136
traitor
|
|
| n.叛徒，卖国贼 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
137
talismans
|
|
| n.护身符( talisman的名词复数 )；驱邪物；有不可思议的力量之物；法宝 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
138
confided
|
|
| v.吐露（秘密，心事等）( confide的过去式和过去分词 )；（向某人）吐露（隐私、秘密等） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
139
extremity
|
|
| n.末端，尽头；尽力；终极；极度 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
140
worthiest
|
|
| 应得某事物( worthy的最高级 )； 值得做某事； 可尊敬的； 有（某人或事物）的典型特征 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
141
peril
|
|
| n.(严重的)危险；危险的事物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
142
valor
|
|
| n.勇气，英勇 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
143
imprisoned
|
|
| 下狱，监禁( imprison的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
144
rapacious
|
|
| adj.贪婪的，强夺的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
145
ordeal
|
|
| n.苦难经历，（尤指对品格、耐力的）严峻考验 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
146
dismantling
|
|
| （枪支）分解 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
147
lodge
|
|
| v.临时住宿，寄宿，寄存，容纳；n.传达室，小旅馆 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
148
exhorted
|
|
| v.劝告，劝说( exhort的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
149
prohibition
|
|
| n.禁止；禁令，禁律 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
150
relics
|
|
| [pl.］n.遗物，遗迹，遗产；遗体，尸骸 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
151
calamities
|
|
| n.灾祸，灾难( calamity的名词复数 )；不幸之事 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
152
devoted
|
|
| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
153
sordid
|
|
| adj.肮脏的，不干净的，卑鄙的，暗淡的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
154
compensate
|
|
| vt.补偿，赔偿；酬报 vi.弥补；补偿；抵消 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
155
miseries
|
|
| n.痛苦( misery的名词复数 )；痛苦的事；穷困；常发牢骚的人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
156
incurred
|
|
| [医]招致的，遭受的； incur的过去式 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
157
rivets
|
|
| 铆钉( rivet的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
158
galloped
|
|
| （使马）飞奔，奔驰( gallop的过去式和过去分词 )； 快速做[说]某事 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
159
prudent
|
|
| adj.谨慎的，有远见的，精打细算的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
160
swarmed
|
|
| 密集( swarm的过去式和过去分词 )； 云集； 成群地移动； 蜜蜂或其他飞行昆虫成群地飞来飞去 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |