“Let them be cleared away!” cried she; “for I cannot consent to be deprived of a spectacle so honorable to my country.”
Murray regarded the pitiless indifference4 with which she gave this order with amazement5. “To do that, madam,” said he, “is beyond my power; the whole ceremony of the colors would be completed long before I could clear the earth of half its bleeding load. I will seek a passage for you by some other way.”
Before the earl could make a remark, Murray had disappeared; and after exploring the lower part of the tower in unavailing search for a way, he met Sir Roger Kirkpatrick issuing from a small door, which, being in shadow, he had hitherto overlooked. It led through the ballium, to the platform before the citadel6. Lord Andrew returned to his uncle and aunt, and informing them of this discovery, gave his arm to Lord Mar, while Kirkpatrick led forward the agitated7 countess. At this moment the sun rose behind the purple summit of Ben Lomond.
When they approached the citadel, Wallace and Sir Alexander Scrymgeour had just gained its summit. The standard of Edward was yet flying. Wallace looked at it for a moment; then laying his hand on the staff, “Down, thou red dragon,” cried he, “and learn to bow before the Giver of all victory!” Even while speaking, he rent it from the roof; and casting it over the battlements, planted the lion of Scotland in its stead.
As its vast evolvements floated on the air, the cry of triumph, the loud clarion8 of honest triumph, burst from every heart, horn, and trumpet9 below. It was a shout that pierced the skies, and entered the soul of Wallace with a bliss10 which seemed a promise of immortality11.
“O God!” cried he, still grasping the staff, and looking up to heaven; “we got not this in possession through our own might, but thy right hand and the light of thy countenance12 overthrew13 the enemy! Thine the conquest, thine the glory!”
“Thus we consecrate14 the day to thee, Power of Heaven!” rejoined Scrymgeour. “And let this standard be thine own; and whithersoever we bear it, may we ever find it as the ark of our God!”
Wallace, feeling as if no eye looked on them but that of Heaven, dropped on his knee; and rising again, took Sir Alexander by the hand; “My brave friend,” said he, “we have here planted the tree of freedom in Scotland. Should I die in its defense15, swear to bury me under its branches; swear that no enslaved grounds shall cover my remains16.”
“I swear,” cried Scrymgeour, laying his crossed hands upon the arm of Wallace; “I swear with a double vow17; by the blood of my brave ancestors, whose valor18 gave me the name I bear; by the cross of St. Andrew; and by your valiant19 self, never to sheath my sword, while I have life in my body, until Scotland be entirely20 free!”
The colors fixed21, Wallace and his brave colleague descended22 the tower; and perceiving the earl and countess, who sat on a stone bench at the end of the platform, approached them. The countess rose as the chiefs drew near. Lord Mar took his friend by the hand, with a gratulation in his eyes that was unutterable; his lady spoke23, hardly conscious of what she said; and Wallace, after a few minutes’ discourse24, proposed to the earl to retire with Lady Mar into the citadel, where she would be more suitably lodged25 than in their late prison. Lord Mar was obeying this movement, when suddenly stopping, he exclaimed, “but where is that wondrous26 boy-your pilot over these perilous28 rocks? let me give him a soldier’s thanks?”
Happy at so grateful a demand, Wallace beckoned29 Edwin, who, just relieved from his guard, was standing30 at some distance. “Here,” said he, “is my knight31 of fifteen! for last night he proved himself more worthy32 of his spurs than many a man who has received them from a king.”
“He shall wear those of a king,” rejoined the Lord Mar, unbuckling from his feet a pair of golden spurs; “these were fastened on my heels by our great king, Alexander, at the battle of Largs. I had intended them for my only son; but the first knight in the cause of rescued Scotland is the son of my heart and soul!”
As he spoke, he would have pressed the young hero to his breast; but Edwin, trembling with emotion, slid down upon his knees, and clasping the earl’s hand, said, in a hardly audible voice, “Receive and pardon the truant33 son of your sister Ruthven!”
“What!” exclaimed the veteran, “is it Edwin Ruthven that has brought me this weight of honor? Come to my arms, thou dearest child of my dearest Janet?”
The uncle and nephew were folded in each other’s embrace. Lady Mar wept, and Wallace, unable to bear the remembrance which such a scene pressed upon his heart, turned away toward the battlements. Edwin murmured a short explanation in the ear of his uncle; and then rising from his arms, with his beautiful face glittering like an April day in tears, allowed his gay cousin Murray to buckle34 the royal spurs on his feet. The rite35 over, he kissed Lord Andrew’s hand in token of acknowledgment; and called on Sir William Wallace to bless the new honors conferred on his knight.
Wallace turned toward Edwin, with a smile which partook more of heaven than of earth. “Have we not performed our mutual36 promises?” said he; “I brought you to the spot where you were to reveal your name, and you have declared it to me by the voice of glory! Come, then, my brother, let us leave your uncle awhile to seek his repose37.”
As he spoke, he bowed to the countess; and Edwin joyfully38 receiving his arm, they walked together toward the eastern postern. Agitated with the delightful39 surprise of thus meeting his favorite sister’s son (whom he had never seen since his infancy), and exhausted40 by the variety of his late emotions, the earl speedily acquiesced41 in a proposal for rest, and leaning on Lord Andrew, proceeded to the citadel.
The countess had other attractions: lingering at the side of the rough knight of Torthorald, she looked back, and when she saw the object of her gaze disappear through the gates, she sighed, and turning to her conductor, walked by him in silence till they joined her husband in the hall of the keep. Murray led the way into the apartments lately occupied by De Valence. They were furnished with all the luxury of a Southron nobleman. Lady Mar cast her eyes around the splendid chamber42, and seated herself on one of its tapestried43 couches. The earl, not marking whether it were silk or rushes, placed himself beside her. Murray drew a stool toward them, while Kirkpatrick, tired of his gallant44 duty, abruptly45 took his leave.
“My dear Andrew,” said the earl, “in the midst of this proud rejoicing there is yet a canker at my heart. Tell me, that when my beloved Helen disappeared in the tumult46 at Bothwell, she was under your protection?”
“She was,” replied Murray; “and I thank the holy St. Fillan, she is now in the sanctuary47 of his church.”
Murray then recounted to his relieved uncle every event, from the moment of his withdrawing behind the arras, to that of his confiding48 the English soldier with the iron box to the care of the prior. Lord Mar sighed heavily when he spoke of that mysterious casket. “Whatever it contained,” said he, “it has drawn49 after it much evil and much good. The domestic peace of Wallace was ruined by it; and the spirit which now restores Scotland to herself was raised by his wrongs.”
“But tell me,” added he, “do you think my daughter safe, so near a garrison50 of the enemy?”
“Surely, my lord,” cried the countess, too well remembering the enthusiasm with which Helen had regarded even the unknown Wallace: “surely you would not bring that tender child into a scene like this! Rather send a messenger to convey her secretly to Thirlestan; at that distance she will be safe, and under the powerful protection of her grandfather.”
The earl acquiesced in her opinion; and saying he would consult with Wallace about the securest mode of travel for his daughter, again turned to Lord Andrew, to learn further of their late proceedings51. But the countess, still uneasy, once more interrupted him.
“Alas! my lord, what would you do? His generous zeal52 will offer to go in person for your daughter. We know not what dangers he might then incur53; and surely the champion of Scotland is not to be thrown into peril27 for any domestic concern! If you really feel the weight of the evils into which you have plunged54 Sir William Wallace, do not increase it, by even hinting to him the present subject of your anxiety.”
“My aunt is an oracle55!” resumed Murray. “Allow me to be the happy knight that is to bear the surrender of Dumbarton to my sweet cousin. Prevail on Wallace to remain in this garrison till I return; and then full tilt56 for the walls of old Sterling57, and the downfall of Hughie Cressingham!”
Both the countess and the earl were pleased with this arrangement. The latter, by the persuasions58 of his nephew, retired59 into an inner chamber to repose; and the former desired Lord Andrew to inform Wallace that she should expect to be honored with his presence at noon, to partake of such fare as the garrison afforded.
On Murray’s coming from the citadel, he learned that Wallace was gone toward the great tower. He followed him thither; and on issuing from the postern which led to that part of the rock, saw the chief standing, with his helmet off, in the midst of the slain.
“This is a sorry sight!” said he to Murray, as he approached; “but it shall not long lie thus exposed. I have just ordered that these sad wrecks60 of human strife61 may be lowered into the Clyde; its rushing stream will soon carry them to a quiet grave beneath yon peaceful sea.” His own dead, amounting to no more than fifteen, were to be buried at the foot of the rock, a prisoner in the castle having described steps in the cliff by which the solemnity could easily be performed.
“But why, my dear commander,” cried Lord Andrew, “why do you take any thought about our enemies? Leave them where they are, and the eagles of our mountains will soon find them graves.”
“For shame, Murray!” was the reply of Wallace; “they are dead, and our enemies no more. They are men like ourselves, and shall we deny them a place in that earth whence we all sprung? We war not with human nature; are we not rather the asserters of her rights?”
“I know,” replied Lord Andrew, blushing, “that I am often the asserter of my own folly62; and I do not know how you will forgive my inconsiderate impertinence.”
“Because it was inconsiderate,” replied Wallace. “Inhumanity is too stern a guest to live in such a breast as yours.”
“If I ever give her quarters,” replied Murray, “I should most wofully disgrace the companion she must meet there. Next to the honor of fair Scotland, my cousin Helen is the goddess of my idolatry; and she would forswear my love and kindred, could she believe me capable of feeling otherwise than in unison63 with Sir William Wallace.”
Wallace looked toward him with a benign64 pleasure in his countenance. “Your fair cousin does me honor.”
“Ah! my noble friend,” cried Murray, lowering his gay tone to one of softer expression; “if you knew all the goodness, all the nobleness that dwells in her gentle heart, you would indeed esteem65 her-you would love her as I do.”
The blood fled from the cheek of Wallace. “Not as you do, Murray; I can no more love a woman as you love her. Such scenes as these,” cried he, turning to the mangled66 bodies which the men were now carrying away to the precipice67 of the Clyde, “have divorced woman’s love from my heart. I am all my country’s, or I am nothing.”
“Nothing!” reiterated68 Murray, laying his hand upon that of Wallace, as it rested upon the hilt of the sword on which he leaned. “Is the friend of mankind, the champion of Scotland, the beloved of a thousand valuable hearts, nothing? Nay69, art thou not the agent of Heaven, to be the scourge70 of a tyrant71? Art thou not the deliverer of thy country?”
Wallace turned his bright eye upon Murray with an expression of mingled72 feelings. “May I be all this, my friend, and Wallace must yet be happy! But speak not to me of love and woman; tell me not of those endearing qualities I have prized too tenderly, and which are now buried to me forever beneath the ashes of Ellerslie.”
“Not under the ashes of Ellerslie,” cried Murray, “sleep the remains of your lovely wife.” Wallace’s penetrating73 eye turned quick upon him. Murray continued: “My cousin’s pitying soul stretched itself toward them; by her directions they were brought from your oratory75 in the rock, and deposited, with all holy rites76, in the cemetery77 at Bothwell.”
The glow that now animated78 the before chilled heart of Wallace, overspread his face. His eyes spoke volumes of gratitude79, his lips moved, but his feelings were too big for utterance80, and, fervently81 pressing the hand of Murray, to conceal82 emotions ready to shake his manhood, he turned away, and walked toward the cliff.
When all the slain were lowered to their last beds, a young priest, who came in the company of Scrymgeour, gave the funeral benediction83 both to the departed in the waves, and those whom the shore had received. The rites over, Murray again drew near to Wallace and delivered his aunt’s message. “I shall obey her commands,” returned he; “but first we must visit our wounded prisoners in the tower.”
Above three hundred of them had been discovered amongst the dead.
Murray gladly obeyed the impulse of his leader’s arm; and, followed by the chieftains returned from the late solemn duty, they entered the tower. Ireland welcomed Wallace with the intelligence that he hoped he had succored84 friends instead of foes85, for that most of the prisoners were poor Welsh peasants, whom Edward had torn from their mountains to serve in his legions; and a few Irish, who in the heat of blood, and eagerness for adventure, had enlisted86 in his ranks. “I have shown to them,” continued Ireland, “what fools they are to injure themselves in us. I told the Welsh they were clinching88 their own chains by assisting to extend the dominion89 of their conqueror90; and I have convinced the Irish they were forging fetters91 for themselves by lending their help to enslave their brother nation, the free-born Scots. They only require your presence, my lord, to forswear their former leaders, and to enlist87 under Scottish banners.”
“Thou art an able orator74, my good Stephen,” returned Wallace; “and whatever promises thou hast made to honest men in the name of Scotland, we are ready to ratify92 them. Is it not so?” added he, turning to Kirkpatrick and Scrymgeour.”
“All as you will,” replied they in one voice. “Yes,” added Kirkpatrick; “you were the first to rise for Scotland, and who but you has a right to command for her?”
Ireland threw open the door which led into the hall, and there, on the ground, on pallets of straw, lay most of the wounded Southrons. Some of their dimmed eyes had discerned their preserver, when he discovered them expiring on the rock; and on sight of him now, they uttered such a piercing cry of gratitude, that, surprised, he stood for a moment. In that moment, five or six of the poor wounded wretches93 crawled to his feet. “Our friend! our preserver!” burst from their lips, as they kissed the edge of his plaid.
“Not to me, not to me!” exclaimed Wallace. “I am a soldier like yourselves. I have only acted a soldier’s part; but I am a soldier of freedom, you of a tyrant, who seeks to enslave the world. This makes the difference between us; this lays you at my feet, when I would more willingly receive you into my arms as brothers in one generous cause.”
“We are yours,” was the answering exclamation94 of those who knelt, and of those who raised their feebler voices from their beds of straw. A few only remained silent. With many kind expressions of acceptance, Wallace disengaged himself from those who clung around him, and then moved toward the sick, who seemed too ill to speak. While repeating the same consolatory95 language to them, he particularly observed an old man who was lying between two young ones, and still kept a profound silence. His rough features were marked with many a scar, but there was a meek96 resignation in her face that powerfully struck Wallace. When the chief drew near, the veteran raised himself on his arm, and bowed his head with a respectful air. Wallace stopped. “You are an Englishman?”
“I am, sir, and have no services to offer you. These two young men on each side of me are my sons. There brother I lost last night in the conflict. To-day, by your mercy, not only my life is preserved, but my two remaining children also. Yet I am an Englishman, and I cannot be grateful at the expense of my allegiance.”
“Nor would I require it of you,” returned Wallace; “these brave Welsh and Irish were brought hither by the invader97 who subjugates98 their countries; they owe him no duty. But you are a free subject of England; he that is a tyrant over others can only be a king to you; he must be the guardian99 of your laws, the defender100 of your liberties, or his scepter falls. Having sworn to follow a sovereign so plighted101, I am not severe enough to condemn102 you, because, misled by that phantom103 which he calls glory, you have suffered him to betray you into unjust conquests.”
“Once I have been so misled,” returned the old man; “but I never will again. Fifty years I have fought under the British standard, in Normandy and in Palestine; and now in my old age, with four sons, I followed the armies of my sovereign into Scotland. My eldest104 I lost on the plains of Dunbar. My second fell last night; and my two youngest are now by my side. You have saved them and me. What can I do? Not, as your noble self says, forswear my country; but this I swear, and in the oath do you, my sons, join (as he spoke they laid their crossed hands upon his, in token of assent), never to lift an arm against Sir William Wallace or the cause of injured Scotland!”
“To this we also subjoin!” cried several other men, who comprised the whole of the English prisoners.
“Noble people!” cried Wallace, “why have you not a king worthy of you?”
“And yet,” observed Kirkpatrick, in a surly tone, “Heselrigge was one of these people!”
Wallace turned upon him with a look of so tremendous a meaning, that, awed105 by an expression too mighty106 for him to comprehend, he fell back a few paces, muttering curses, but on whom could not be heard.
“That man would arouse the tiger in our lion-hearted chief!” whispered Scrymgeour to Murray.
“Ay,” returned Lord Andrew; “but the royal spirit keeps the beast in awe-see how coweringly that bold spirit now bows before it!”
Wallace marked the impression his glance had made, but where he had struck, being unqilling to pierce also, he dispelled107 the thunder from his countenance, and once more looking on Sir Roger with a frank serenity108. “Come,” said he, “my good knight; you must not be more tenacious109 for William Wallace than he is for himself! While he possesses such a zealous110 friend as Kirkpatrick of Torthorald, he need not now fear the arms of a thousand Heselrigges.”
“No, nor of Edwards either,” cried Kirkpatrick, once more looking boldly up, and shaking his broad claymore: “My thistle has a point to sting all to death who would pass between this arm and my leader’s breast.”
“May heaven long preserve the valiant Wallace!” was the prayer of every feeble voice, as he left the hall to visit his own wounded, in an upper chamber. The interview was short and satisfactory. “Ah! sir,” cried one of them, “I cannot tell how it is, but when I see you, I feel as if I beheld111 the very soul of my country, or its guardian angel, standing before me-a something I cannot describe, but it fills me with courage and comfort!”
“You see an honest Scot standing before you, my good Duncan,” replied Wallace; “and that is no mean personage; for it is one who knows no use of his life but as it fulfills112 his duty to his country!”
“Oh that the sound of that voice could penetrate113 to every ear in Scotland!” rejoined the soldier; “it would be more than the call of the trumpet to bring them to the field!”
“And from the summit of this rock many have already heard it; and more shall be so aroused!” cried Murray, returning from the door, to which one of his men had beckoned him; “here is a man come to announce that Malcolm, Earl of Lennox, passing by the foot of this rock, saw the Scottish standard flying from its citadel; and, as overjoyed as amazed at the sight, he sends to request the confidence of being admitted.”
“Let me bring him hither!” interrupted Kirkpatrick; “he is brave as the day, and will be a noble auxiliary114.”
“Every true Scot must be welcome to these walls,” returned Wallace.
Kirkpatrick hastened from the tower to the northern side of the rock, at the foot of which stood the earl and his train. With all the pride of a freeman and a victor, Sir Roger descended the height. Lennox advanced to meet him. “What is it I see? Sir Roger Kirkpatrick master of this citadel, and our king’s colors flying from its towers? Where is the Earl de Valence? Where the English garrison?”
“The English garrison,” replied Kirkpatrick, “are now twelve hundred men beneath the waters of the Clyde. De Valence is fled; and this fortress115, manned with a few hardy116 Scots, shall sink into yon waves ere it again bear the English dragon on its walls.”
“And you, noble knight,” cried Lennox, “have achieved all this? You are the dawn to a blessed day for Scotland!”
“No,” replied Kirkpatrick; “I am but a follower117 of the man who has struck the blow. Sir William Wallace of Ellerslie is our chief; and with the power of his virtues118 he subdues119 not only friends, but enemies, to his command.”
He then exultingly120 narrated121 the happy events of the last four and twenty hours. The earl listened with wonder and joy. “What!” cried he, “so noble a plan for Scotland, and I ignorant of it?-I, that have not waked day or night, for many a month, without thinking or dreaming of some enterprise to free my country-and behold122 it is achieved in a moment! I see the stroke, as a bolt from Heaven; and I pray Heaven it may light the sacrifice throughout the nation! Lead me, worthy knight, lead me to your chief, for he shall be mine too: he shall command Malcolm Lennox and all his clan123.”
Kirkpatrick gladly turned to obey him; and they mounted the ascent124 together. Within the barbican gate stood Wallace, with Scrymgeour and Murray. The earl knew Scrymgeour well, having often seen him in the field as hereditary126 standard-bearer of the kingdom; of the persons of the others he was ignorant.
“There is Wallace!” exclaimed Kirkpatrick.
“Not one of those very young men?” interrogated127 the earl.
“Even so,” was the answer of the knight; “but his is the youth of the brave son of Ammon; gray beards are glad to bow before his golden locks, for beneath them is wisdom.”
As he spoke they entered the barbican; and Wallace (whom the penetrating eye of Lennox had already singled out for the chief) advanced to meet his guest.
“Earl,” said he, “you are welcome to Dumbarton Castle.”
“Bravest of my countrymen!” returned Lennox, clasping him in his arms, “receive a soldier’s embrace, receive the gratitude of a loyal heart! accept my service, my arms, my men: my all I devote to Scotland and the great cause.”
Wallace for a moment did not answer; but warmly straining the earl to his breast, said, as he released him, “Such support will give sinews to our power. A few months, and with the blessing128 of that arm which has already mowed129 down the ranks which opposed us, we shall see Scotland at liberty.”
“And may Heaven, brave Wallace!” exclaimed Lennox, “grant us thine arm to wield130 its scythe131! But how have you accomplished132 this? How have your few overthrown133 this English host?”
“He strikes home, when right points his sword,” replied Wallace; “the injuries of Scotland were my guide, and justice my companion. We feared nothing, for God was with us; we feared nothing, and in his might we conquered.”
“And shall yet conquer!” cried Lennox, kindling134 with the enthusiasm that blazed from the eyes of Wallace. “I feel the strength of our cause; and from this hour, I devote myself to assert it, or to die.”
“Not to die! my noble lord,” said Murray; “we have yet many an eve to dance over the buried fetters of Scotland. And as a beginning of our jollities, I must remind our leader that my aunt’s board awaits him.”
Lord Lennox understood from this address it was the brave Murray who spoke to him; for he had heard sufficient from Sir Roger Kirkpatrick to explain how the Countess of Mar and her patriot135 husband came within those walls.
The countess, having arrayed herself with all her powers to receive her deliverer, awaited the hour of his arrival with an emotion at her heart, which made it bound against her bosom136, when she saw the object of her splendid toil137 advancing along the courtyard. All others were lost to her impatient eyes; and hastily rising from the window as the chiefs entered the porch, she crossed the room to meet them at the door.
The Earl of Lennox stood amazed at sight of so much beauty and splendor138 in such a scene. Lady mar had hardly attained139 her thirty-fifth year; but from the graces of her person, and the address with which she set forth140 all her charms, the enchanted141 gazer found it impossible to suppose her more than three or four and twenty. Thus happily formed by nature, and habited in a suit of velvet142, overlaid with Cyprus-work of gold, blazing with jewels, about her head, and her feet clad in silver-fretted sandals, Lennox thought she looked more like some triumphant143 queen, than a wife who had so lately shared captivity144 with an outlawed145 husband.23 Murray started at such unexpected magnificence in his aunt. But Wallace scarcely observed it was anything unusual, and bowing to her, presented the Earl of Lennox. She smiled; and saying a few words of welcome to the earl, gave her hand to Wallace to lead her back into the chamber.
23 This is the style for state dress worn by noble ladies in the thirteenth century.
Lord Mar had risen from his seat; and leaning on his sword (for his warlike arm refused any other staff), stood up on their entrance. At sight of Lord Lennox, he uttered an exclamation of glad surprise. Lennox embraced him. “I, too, am come to enlist under the banners of this young Leonidas.”
“God armeth the patriot,” was all the reply that Mar made, while the big tears rolled over his cheek, and he shook him by the hand.
“I have four hundred stout146 Lennox men,” continued the earl, “who by to-morrow’s eve shall be ready to follow our leader to the very borders.”
“Not so soon,” interrupted the countess; “our deliverer needs repose.”
“I thank your benevolence147, Lady Mar,” returned Wallace; “but the issue of last night, and the sight of Lord Lennox this day, with the promise of so great a support, are such aliments that-we must go forward.”
“Ay, to be sure,” joined Kirkpatrick; “Dumbarton was not taken during our sleep; and if we stay loitering here, the devil that holds Stirling Castle may follow the scent125 of De Valence; and so I lose my prey148!”
“What?” cried the countess, “and is my lord to be left again to his enemies? Sir William Wallace, I should have thought-”
“Everything, madam,” rejoined he; “that is demonstrative of my devotion to your venerable lord! But with a brave garrison, I hope you will consider him safe here, until a wider range of security be won, to enable you to retire to Braemar.”
As the apostrophe to Wallace, in the latter part of the countess’ speech, had been addressed to himself in rather a low voice, his reply was made in a similar tone, so that Lord Mar did not hear any part of the answer, except the concluding words. But then he exclaimed, “Nay, my ever-fearful Joanna, art thou making objections to keeping garrison here?”
“I confess,” replied Wallace, “that an armed citadel is not the most pleasant abode149 for a lady; but at present, excepting perhaps the church, it is the safest; and I would not advise your lady to remove hence, until the plain be made as free as this mountain.”
The sewer150 now announced the board in the hall; and the countess leading the way, reluctantly gave her hand to the Earl of Lennox. Lord Mar leaned on the arm of Wallace, who was followed by Edwin and the other chieftains.

点击
收听单词发音

1
mar
![]() |
|
vt.破坏,毁坏,弄糟 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
2
thither
![]() |
|
adv.向那里;adj.在那边的,对岸的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
3
slain
![]() |
|
杀死,宰杀,杀戮( slay的过去分词 ); (slay的过去分词) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
4
indifference
![]() |
|
n.不感兴趣,不关心,冷淡,不在乎 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
5
amazement
![]() |
|
n.惊奇,惊讶 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
6
citadel
![]() |
|
n.城堡;堡垒;避难所 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
7
agitated
![]() |
|
adj.被鼓动的,不安的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
8
clarion
![]() |
|
n.尖音小号声;尖音小号 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
9
trumpet
![]() |
|
n.喇叭,喇叭声;v.吹喇叭,吹嘘 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
10
bliss
![]() |
|
n.狂喜,福佑,天赐的福 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
11
immortality
![]() |
|
n.不死,不朽 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
12
countenance
![]() |
|
n.脸色,面容;面部表情;vt.支持,赞同 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
13
overthrew
![]() |
|
overthrow的过去式 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
14
consecrate
![]() |
|
v.使圣化,奉…为神圣;尊崇;奉献 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
15
defense
![]() |
|
n.防御,保卫;[pl.]防务工事;辩护,答辩 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
16
remains
![]() |
|
n.剩余物,残留物;遗体,遗迹 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
17
vow
![]() |
|
n.誓(言),誓约;v.起誓,立誓 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
18
valor
![]() |
|
n.勇气,英勇 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
19
valiant
![]() |
|
adj.勇敢的,英勇的;n.勇士,勇敢的人 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
20
entirely
![]() |
|
ad.全部地,完整地;完全地,彻底地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
21
fixed
![]() |
|
adj.固定的,不变的,准备好的;(计算机)固定的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
22
descended
![]() |
|
a.为...后裔的,出身于...的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
23
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: |
|
|
24
discourse
![]() |
|
n.论文,演说;谈话;话语;vi.讲述,著述 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
25
lodged
![]() |
|
v.存放( lodge的过去式和过去分词 );暂住;埋入;(权利、权威等)归属 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
26
wondrous
![]() |
|
adj.令人惊奇的,奇妙的;adv.惊人地;异乎寻常地;令人惊叹地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
27
peril
![]() |
|
n.(严重的)危险;危险的事物 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
28
perilous
![]() |
|
adj.危险的,冒险的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
29
beckoned
![]() |
|
v.(用头或手的动作)示意,召唤( beckon的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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
knight
![]() |
|
n.骑士,武士;爵士 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
32
worthy
![]() |
|
adj.(of)值得的,配得上的;有价值的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
33
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: |
|
|
34
buckle
![]() |
|
n.扣子,带扣;v.把...扣住,由于压力而弯曲 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
35
rite
![]() |
|
n.典礼,惯例,习俗 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
36
mutual
![]() |
|
adj.相互的,彼此的;共同的,共有的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
37
repose
![]() |
|
v.(使)休息;n.安息 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
38
joyfully
![]() |
|
adv. 喜悦地, 高兴地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
39
delightful
![]() |
|
adj.令人高兴的,使人快乐的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
40
exhausted
![]() |
|
adj.极其疲惫的,精疲力尽的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
41
acquiesced
![]() |
|
v.默认,默许( acquiesce的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
42
chamber
![]() |
|
n.房间,寝室;会议厅;议院;会所 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
43
tapestried
![]() |
|
adj.饰挂绣帷的,织在绣帷上的v.用挂毯(或绣帷)装饰( tapestry的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
44
gallant
![]() |
|
adj.英勇的,豪侠的;(向女人)献殷勤的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
45
abruptly
![]() |
|
adv.突然地,出其不意地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
46
tumult
![]() |
|
n.喧哗;激动,混乱;吵闹 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
47
sanctuary
![]() |
|
n.圣所,圣堂,寺庙;禁猎区,保护区 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
48
confiding
![]() |
|
adj.相信人的,易于相信的v.吐露(秘密,心事等)( confide的现在分词 );(向某人)吐露(隐私、秘密等) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
49
drawn
![]() |
|
v.拖,拉,拔出;adj.憔悴的,紧张的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
50
garrison
![]() |
|
n.卫戍部队;驻地,卫戍区;vt.派(兵)驻防 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
51
proceedings
![]() |
|
n.进程,过程,议程;诉讼(程序);公报 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
52
zeal
![]() |
|
n.热心,热情,热忱 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
53
incur
![]() |
|
vt.招致,蒙受,遭遇 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
54
plunged
![]() |
|
v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 );暴跌;骤降;突降 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
55
oracle
![]() |
|
n.神谕,神谕处,预言 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
56
tilt
![]() |
|
v.(使)倾侧;(使)倾斜;n.倾侧;倾斜 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
57
sterling
![]() |
|
adj.英币的(纯粹的,货真价实的);n.英国货币(英镑) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
58
persuasions
![]() |
|
n.劝说,说服(力)( persuasion的名词复数 );信仰 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
59
retired
![]() |
|
adj.隐退的,退休的,退役的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
60
wrecks
![]() |
|
n.沉船( wreck的名词复数 );(事故中)遭严重毁坏的汽车(或飞机等);(身体或精神上)受到严重损伤的人;状况非常糟糕的车辆(或建筑物等)v.毁坏[毁灭]某物( wreck的第三人称单数 );使(船舶)失事,使遇难,使下沉 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
61
strife
![]() |
|
n.争吵,冲突,倾轧,竞争 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
62
folly
![]() |
|
n.愚笨,愚蠢,蠢事,蠢行,傻话 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
63
unison
![]() |
|
n.步调一致,行动一致 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
64
benign
![]() |
|
adj.善良的,慈祥的;良性的,无危险的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
65
esteem
![]() |
|
n.尊敬,尊重;vt.尊重,敬重;把…看作 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
66
mangled
![]() |
|
vt.乱砍(mangle的过去式与过去分词形式) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
67
precipice
![]() |
|
n.悬崖,危急的处境 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
68
reiterated
![]() |
|
反复地说,重申( reiterate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
69
nay
![]() |
|
adv.不;n.反对票,投反对票者 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
70
scourge
![]() |
|
n.灾难,祸害;v.蹂躏 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
71
tyrant
![]() |
|
n.暴君,专制的君主,残暴的人 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
72
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: |
|
|
73
penetrating
![]() |
|
adj.(声音)响亮的,尖锐的adj.(气味)刺激的adj.(思想)敏锐的,有洞察力的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
74
orator
![]() |
|
n.演说者,演讲者,雄辩家 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
75
oratory
![]() |
|
n.演讲术;词藻华丽的言辞 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
76
rites
![]() |
|
仪式,典礼( rite的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
77
cemetery
![]() |
|
n.坟墓,墓地,坟场 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
78
animated
![]() |
|
adj.生气勃勃的,活跃的,愉快的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
79
gratitude
![]() |
|
adj.感激,感谢 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
80
utterance
![]() |
|
n.用言语表达,话语,言语 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
81
fervently
![]() |
|
adv.热烈地,热情地,强烈地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
82
conceal
![]() |
|
v.隐藏,隐瞒,隐蔽 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
83
benediction
![]() |
|
n.祝福;恩赐 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
84
succored
![]() |
|
v.给予帮助( succor的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
85
foes
![]() |
|
敌人,仇敌( foe的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
86
enlisted
![]() |
|
adj.应募入伍的v.(使)入伍, (使)参军( enlist的过去式和过去分词 );获得(帮助或支持) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
87
enlist
![]() |
|
vt.谋取(支持等),赢得;征募;vi.入伍 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
88
clinching
![]() |
|
v.(尤指两人)互相紧紧抱[扭]住( clinch的现在分词 );解决(争端、交易),达成(协议) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
89
dominion
![]() |
|
n.统治,管辖,支配权;领土,版图 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
90
conqueror
![]() |
|
n.征服者,胜利者 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
91
fetters
![]() |
|
n.脚镣( fetter的名词复数 );束缚v.给…上脚镣,束缚( fetter的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
92
ratify
![]() |
|
v.批准,认可,追认 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
93
wretches
![]() |
|
n.不幸的人( wretch的名词复数 );可怜的人;恶棍;坏蛋 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
94
exclamation
![]() |
|
n.感叹号,惊呼,惊叹词 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
95
consolatory
![]() |
|
adj.慰问的,可藉慰的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
96
meek
![]() |
|
adj.温顺的,逆来顺受的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
97
invader
![]() |
|
n.侵略者,侵犯者,入侵者 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
98
subjugates
![]() |
|
v.征服,降伏( subjugate的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
99
guardian
![]() |
|
n.监护人;守卫者,保护者 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
100
defender
![]() |
|
n.保卫者,拥护者,辩护人 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
101
plighted
![]() |
|
vt.保证,约定(plight的过去式与过去分词形式) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
102
condemn
![]() |
|
vt.谴责,指责;宣判(罪犯),判刑 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
103
phantom
![]() |
|
n.幻影,虚位,幽灵;adj.错觉的,幻影的,幽灵的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
104
eldest
![]() |
|
adj.最年长的,最年老的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
105
awed
![]() |
|
adj.充满敬畏的,表示敬畏的v.使敬畏,使惊惧( awe的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
106
mighty
![]() |
|
adj.强有力的;巨大的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
107
dispelled
![]() |
|
v.驱散,赶跑( dispel的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
108
serenity
![]() |
|
n.宁静,沉着,晴朗 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
109
tenacious
![]() |
|
adj.顽强的,固执的,记忆力强的,粘的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
110
zealous
![]() |
|
adj.狂热的,热心的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
111
beheld
![]() |
|
v.看,注视( behold的过去式和过去分词 );瞧;看呀;(叙述中用于引出某人意外的出现)哎哟 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
112
fulfills
![]() |
|
v.履行(诺言等)( fulfill的第三人称单数 );执行(命令等);达到(目的);使结束 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
113
penetrate
![]() |
|
v.透(渗)入;刺入,刺穿;洞察,了解 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
114
auxiliary
![]() |
|
adj.辅助的,备用的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
115
fortress
![]() |
|
n.堡垒,防御工事 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
116
hardy
![]() |
|
adj.勇敢的,果断的,吃苦的;耐寒的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
117
follower
![]() |
|
n.跟随者;随员;门徒;信徒 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
118
virtues
![]() |
|
美德( virtue的名词复数 ); 德行; 优点; 长处 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
119
subdues
![]() |
|
征服( subdue的第三人称单数 ); 克制; 制服 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
120
exultingly
![]() |
|
兴高采烈地,得意地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
121
narrated
![]() |
|
v.故事( narrate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
122
behold
![]() |
|
v.看,注视,看到 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
123
clan
![]() |
|
n.氏族,部落,宗族,家族,宗派 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
124
ascent
![]() |
|
n.(声望或地位)提高;上升,升高;登高 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
125
scent
![]() |
|
n.气味,香味,香水,线索,嗅觉;v.嗅,发觉 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
126
hereditary
![]() |
|
adj.遗传的,遗传性的,可继承的,世袭的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
127
interrogated
![]() |
|
v.询问( interrogate的过去式和过去分词 );审问;(在计算机或其他机器上)查询 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
128
blessing
![]() |
|
n.祈神赐福;祷告;祝福,祝愿 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
129
mowed
![]() |
|
v.刈,割( mow的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
130
wield
![]() |
|
vt.行使,运用,支配;挥,使用(武器等) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
131
scythe
![]() |
|
n. 长柄的大镰刀,战车镰; v. 以大镰刀割 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
132
accomplished
![]() |
|
adj.有才艺的;有造诣的;达到了的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
133
overthrown
![]() |
|
adj. 打翻的,推倒的,倾覆的 动词overthrow的过去分词 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
134
kindling
![]() |
|
n. 点火, 可燃物 动词kindle的现在分词形式 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
135
patriot
![]() |
|
n.爱国者,爱国主义者 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
136
bosom
![]() |
|
n.胸,胸部;胸怀;内心;adj.亲密的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
137
toil
![]() |
|
vi.辛劳工作,艰难地行动;n.苦工,难事 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
138
splendor
![]() |
|
n.光彩;壮丽,华丽;显赫,辉煌 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
139
attained
![]() |
|
(通常经过努力)实现( attain的过去式和过去分词 ); 达到; 获得; 达到(某年龄、水平、状况) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
140
forth
![]() |
|
adv.向前;向外,往外 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
141
enchanted
![]() |
|
adj. 被施魔法的,陶醉的,入迷的 动词enchant的过去式和过去分词 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
142
velvet
![]() |
|
n.丝绒,天鹅绒;adj.丝绒制的,柔软的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
143
triumphant
![]() |
|
adj.胜利的,成功的;狂欢的,喜悦的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
144
captivity
![]() |
|
n.囚禁;被俘;束缚 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
145
outlawed
![]() |
|
宣布…为不合法(outlaw的过去式与过去分词形式) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
147
benevolence
![]() |
|
n.慈悲,捐助 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
148
prey
![]() |
|
n.被掠食者,牺牲者,掠食;v.捕食,掠夺,折磨 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
149
abode
![]() |
|
n.住处,住所 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
150
sewer
![]() |
|
n.排水沟,下水道 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
欢迎访问英文小说网 |