“Ah! that will do, Drowne, that will do!” cried the jolly captain, tapping the log with his rattan5. “I bespeak6 this very piece of oak for the figure-head of the Cynosure. She has shown herself the sweetest craft that ever floated, and I mean to decorate her prow7 with the handsomest image that the skill of man can cut out of timber. And, Drowne, you are the fellow to execute it.”
“You give me more credit than I deserve, Captain Hunnewell,” said the carver, modestly, yet as one conscious of eminence8 in his art. “But, for the sake of the good brig, I stand ready to do my best. And which of these designs do you prefer? Here,”— pointing to a staring, half-length figure, in a white wig9 and scarlet10 coat — “here is an excellent model, the likeness11 of our gracious king. Here is the valiant12 Admiral Vernon. Or, if you prefer a female figure, what say you to Britannia with the trident?”
“All very fine, Drowne; all very fine,” answered the mariner13. “But as nothing like the brig ever swam the ocean, so I am determined14 she shall have such a figure-head as old Neptune15 never saw in his life. And what is more, as there is a secret in the matter, you must pledge your credit not to betray it.”
“Certainly,” said Drowne, marvelling16, however, what possible mystery there could be in reference to an affair so open, of necessity, to the inspection17 of all the world as the figure-head of a vessel. “You may depend, captain, on my being as secret as the nature of the case will permit.”
Captain Hunnewell then took Drowne by the button, and communicated his wishes in so low a tone that it would be unmannerly to repeat what was evidently intended for the carver’s private ear. We shall, therefore, take the opportunity to give the reader a few desirable particulars about Drowne himself.
He was the first American who is known to have attempted — in a very humble18 line, it is true — that art in which we can now reckon so many names already distinguished19, or rising to distinction. From his earliest boyhood he had exhibited a knack20 — for it would be too proud a word to call it genius — a knack, therefore, for the imitation of the human figure in whatever material came most readily to hand. The snows of a New England winter had often supplied him with a species of marble as dazzingly white, at least, as the Parian or the Carrara, and if less durable21, yet sufficiently22 so to correspond with any claims to permanent existence possessed23 by the boy’s frozen statues. Yet they won admiration24 from maturer judges than his school-fellows, and were indeed, remarkably25 clever, though destitute26 of the native warmth that might have made the snow melt beneath his hand. As he advanced in life, the young man adopted pine and oak as eligible27 materials for the display of his skill, which now began to bring him a return of solid silver as well as the empty praise that had been an apt reward enough for his productions of evanescent snow. He became noted28 for carving29 ornamental30 pump heads, and wooden urns31 for gate posts, and decorations, more grotesque32 than fanciful, for mantelpieces. No apothecary33 would have deemed himself in the way of obtaining custom without setting up a gilded34 mortar35, if not a head of Galen or Hippocrates, from the skilful36 hand of Drowne.
But the great scope of his business lay in the manufacture of figure-heads for vessels37. Whether it were the monarch38 himself, or some famous British admiral or general, or the governor of the province, or perchance the favorite daughter of the ship-owner, there the image stood above the prow, decked out in gorgeous colors, magnificently gilded, and staring the whole world out of countenance39, as if from an innate40 consciousness of its own superiority. These specimens41 of native sculpture had crossed the sea in all directions, and been not ignobly42 noticed among the crowded shipping43 of the Thames and wherever else the hardy44 mariners45 of New England had pushed their adventures. It must be confessed that a family likeness pervaded46 these respectable progeny47 of Drowne’s skill; that the benign48 countenance of the king resembled those of his subjects, and that Miss Peggy Hobart, the merchant’s daughter, bore a remarkable49 similitude to Britannia, Victory, and other ladies of the allegoric sisterhood; and, finally, that they all had a kind of wooden aspect which proved an intimate relationship with the unshaped blocks of timber in the carver’s workshop. But at least there was no inconsiderable skill of hand, nor a deficiency of any attribute to render them really works of art, except that deep quality, be it of soul or intellect, which bestows50 life upon the lifeless and warmth upon the cold, and which, had it been present, would have made Drowne’s wooden image instinct with spirit.
The captain of the Cynosure had now finished his instructions.
“And Drowne,” said he, impressively, “you must lay aside all other business and set about this forthwith. And as to the price, only do the job in first-rate style, and you shall settle that point yourself.”
“Very well, captain,” answered the carver, who looked grave and somewhat perplexed52, yet had a sort of smile upon his visage; “depend upon it, I’ll do my utmost to satisfy you.”
From that moment the men of taste about Long Wharf53 and the Town Dock who were wont54 to show their love for the arts by frequent visits to Drowne’s workshop, and admiration of his wooden images, began to be sensible of a mystery in the carver’s conduct. Often he was absent in the daytime. Sometimes, as might be judged by gleams of light from the shop windows, he was at work until a late hour of the evening; although neither knock nor voice, on such occasions, could gain admittance for a visitor, or elicit55 any word of response. Nothing remarkable, however, was observed in the shop at those late hours when it was thrown open. A fine piece of timber, indeed, which Drowne was known to have reserved for some work of especial dignity, was seen to be gradually assuming shape. What shape it was destined56 ultimately to take was a problem to his friends and a point on which the carver himself preserved a rigid57 silence. But day after day, though Drowne was seldom noticed in the act of working upon it, this rude form began to be developed until it became evident to all observers that a female figure was growing into mimic58 life. At each new visit they beheld59 a larger pile of wooden chips and a nearer approximation to something beautiful. It seemed as if the hamadryad of the oak had sheltered herself from the unimaginative world within the heart of her native tree, and that it was only necessary to remove the strange shapelessness that had incrusted her, and reveal the grace and loveliness of a divinity. Imperfect as the design, the attitude, the costume, and especially the face of the image still remained, there was already an effect that drew the eye from the wooden cleverness of Drowne’s earlier productions and fixed60 it upon the tantalizing61 mystery of this new project.
Copley, the celebrated62 painter, then a young man and a resident of Boston, came one day to visit Drowne; for he had recognized so much of moderate ability in the carver as to induce him, in the dearth63 of professional sympathy, to cultivate his acquaintance. On entering the shop, the artist glanced at the inflexible65 image of king, commander, dame66, and allegory, that stood around, on the best of which might have been bestowed67 the questionable68 praise that it looked as if a living man had here been changed to wood, and that not only the physical, but the intellectual and spiritual part, partook of the stolid69 transformation70. But in not a single instance did it seem as if the wood were imbibing71 the ethereal essence of humanity. What a wide distinction is here! and how far the slightest portion of the latter merit have outvalued the utmost degree of the former!
“My friend Drowne;” said Copley, smiling to himself, but alluding72 to the mechanical and wooden cleverness that so invariably distinguished the images, “you are really a remarkable person! I have seldom met with a man in your line of business that could do so much; for one other touch might make this figure of General Wolfe, for instance, a breathing and intelligent human creature.”
“You would have me think that you are praising me highly, Mr. Copley,” answered Drowne, turning his back upon Wolfe’s image in apparent disgust. “But there has come a light into my mind. I know what you know as well, that the one touch which you speak of as deficient73 is the only one that would be truly valuable, and that without it these works of mine are no better than worthless abortions74. There is the same difference between them and the works of an inspired artist as between a sign-post daub and one of your best pictures.”
“This is strange,” cried Copley, looking him in the face, which now, as the painter fancied, had a singular depth of intelligence, though hitherto it had not given him greatly the advantage over his own family of wooden images. “What has come over you? How is it that, possessing the idea which you have now uttered, you should produce only such works as these?”
The carver smiled, but made no reply. Copley turned again to the images, conceiving that the sense of deficiency which Drowne had just expressed, and which is so rare in a merely mechanical character, must surely imply a genius, the tokens of which had heretofore been overlooked. But no; there was not a trace of it. He was about to withdraw when his eyes chanced to fall upon a half-developed figure which lay in a corner of the workshop, surrounded by scattered75 chips of oak. It arrested him at once.
“What is here? Who has done this?” he broke out, after contemplating it in speechless astonishment76 for an instant. “Here is the divine, the lifegiving touch. What inspired hand is beckoning77 this wood to arise and live? Whose work is this?”
“No man’s work,” replied Drowne. “The figure lies within that block of oak, and it is my business to find it.”
“Drowne,” said the true artist, grasping the carver fervently78 by the hand, “you are a man of genius!”
As Copley departed, happening to glance backward from the threshold, he beheld Drowne bending over the half-created shape, and stretching forth51 his arms as if he would have embraced and drawn79 it to his heart; while, had such a miracle been possible, his countenance expressed passion enough to communicate warmth and sensibility to the lifeless oak.
“Strange enough!” said the artist to himself. “Who would have looked for a modern Pygmalion in the person of a Yankee mechanic!”
As yet, the image was but vague in its outward presentment; so that, as in the cloud shapes around the western sun, the observer rather felt, or was led to imagine, than really saw what was intended by it. Day by day, however, the work assumed greater precision, and settled its irregular and misty80 outline into distincter grace and beauty. The general design was now obvious to the common eye. It was a female figure, in what appeared to be a foreign dress; the gown being laced over the bosom81, and opening in front so as to disclose a skirt or petticoat, the folds and inequalities of which were admirably represented in the oaken substance. She wore a hat of singular gracefulness82, and abundantly laden83 with flowers, such as never grew in the rude soil of New England, but which, with all their fanciful luxuriance, had a natural truth that it seemed impossible for the most fertile imagination to have attained85 without copying from real prototypes. There were several little appendages86 to this dress, such as a fan, a pair of earrings87, a chain about the neck, a watch in the bosom, and a ring upon the finger, all of which would have been deemed beneath the dignity of sculpture. They were put on, however, with as much taste as a lovely woman might have shown in her attire88, and could therefore have shocked none but a judgment89 spoiled by artistic90 rules.
The face was still imperfect; but gradually, by a magic touch, intelligence and sensibility brightened through the features, with all the effect of light gleaming forth from within the solid oak. The face became alive. It was a beautiful, though not precisely91 regular and somewhat haughty92 aspect, but with a certain piquancy93 about the eyes and mouth, which, of all expressions, would have seemed the most impossible to throw over a wooden countenance. And now, so far as carving went, this wonderful production was complete.
“Drowne,” said Copley, who had hardly missed a single day in his visits to the carver’s workshop, “if this work were in marble it would make you famous at once; nay94, I would almost affirm that it would make an era in the art. It is as ideal as an antique statue, and yet as real as any lovely woman whom one meets at a fireside or in the street. But I trust you do not mean to desecrate95 this exquisite96 creature with paint, like those staring kings and admirals yonder?”
“Not paint her!” exclaimed Captain Hunnewell, who stood by; “not paint the figure-head of the Cynosure! And what sort of a figure should I cut in a foreign port with such an unpainted oaken stick as this over my prow! She must, and she shall, be painted to the life, from the topmost flower in her hat down to the silver spangles on her slippers97.”
“Mr. Copley,” said Drowne, quietly, “I know nothing of marble statuary, and nothing of the sculptor’s rules of art; but of this wooden image, this work of my hands, this creature of my heart,”— and here his voice faltered98 and choked in a very singular manner — “of this — of her — I may say that I know something. A well-spring of inward wisdom gushed99 within me as I wrought100 upon the oak with my whole strength, and soul, and faith. Let others do what they may with marble, and adopt what rules they choose. If I can produce my desired effect by painted wood, those rules are not for me, and I have a right to disregard them.”
“The very spirit of genius,” muttered Copley to himself. “How otherwise should this carver feel himself entitled to transcend101 all rules, and make me ashamed of quoting them?”
He looked earnestly at Drowne, and again saw that expression of human love which, in a spiritual sense, as the artist could not help imagining, was the secret of the life that had been breathed into this block of wood.
The carver, still in the same secrecy102 that marked all his operations upon this mysterious image, proceeded to paint the habiliments in their proper colors, and the countenance with Nature’s red and white. When all was finished he threw open his workshop, and admitted the towns people to behold103 what he had done. Most persons, at their first entrance, felt impelled104 to remove their hats, and pay such reverence105 as was due to the richly-dressed and beautiful young lady who seemed to stand in a corner of the room, with oaken chips and shavings scattered at her feet. Then came a sensation of fear; as if, not being actually human, yet so like humanity, she must therefore be something preternatural. There was, in truth, an indefinable air and expression that might reasonably induce the query106, Who and from what sphere this daughter of the oak should be? The strange, rich flowers of Eden on her head; the complexion107, so much deeper and more brilliant than those of our native beauties; the foreign, as it seemed, and fantastic garb108, yet not too fantastic to be worn decorously in the street; the delicately-wrought embroidery109 of the skirt; the broad gold chain about her neck; the curious ring upon her finger; the fan, so exquisitely110 sculptured in open work, and painted to resemble pearl and ebony; — where could Drowne, in his sober walk of life, have beheld the vision here so matchlessly embodied111! And then her face! In the dark eyes, and around the voluptuous112 mouth, there played a look made up of pride, coquetry, and a gleam of mirthfulness, which impressed Copley with the idea that the image was secretly enjoying the perplexing admiration of himself and other beholders.
“And will you,” said he to the carver, “permit this masterpiece to become the figure-head of a vessel? Give the honest captain yonder figure of Britannia — it will answer his purpose far better — and send this fairy queen to England, where, for aught I know, it may bring you a thousand pounds.”
“I have not wrought it for money,” said Drowne.
“What sort of a fellow is this!” thought Copley. “A Yankee, and throw away the chance of making his fortune! He has gone mad; and thence has come this gleam of genius.”
There was still further proof of Drowne’s lunacy, if credit were due to the rumor113 that he had been seen kneeling at the feet of the oaken lady, and gazing with a lover’s passionate114 ardor115 into the face that his own hands had created. The bigots of the day hinted that it would be no matter of surprise if an evil spirit were allowed to enter this beautiful form, and seduce116 the carver to destruction.
The fame of the image spread far and wide. The inhabitants visited it so universally, that after a few days of exhibition there was hardly an old man or a child who had not become minutely familiar with its aspect. Even had the story of Drowne’s wooden image ended here, its celebrity117 might have been prolonged for many years by the reminiscences of those who looked upon it in their childhood, and saw nothing else so beautiful in after life. But the town was now astounded118 by an event, the narrative119 of which has formed itself into one of the most singular legends that are yet to be met with in the traditionary chimney corners of the New England metropolis120, where old men and women sit dreaming of the past, and wag their heads at the dreamers of the present and the future.
One fine morning, just before the departure of the Cynosure on her second voyage to Fayal, the commander of that gallant121 vessel was seen to issue from his residence in Hanover Street. He was stylishly122 dressed in a blue broadcloth coat, with gold lace at the seams and button-holes, an embroidered123 scarlet waistcoat, a triangular124 hat, with a loop and broad binding125 of gold, and wore a silver-hilted hanger126 at his side. But the good captain might have been arrayed in the robes of a prince or the rags of a beggar, without in either case attracting notice, while obscured by such a companion as now leaned on his arm. The people in the street started, rubbed their eyes, and either leaped aside from their path, or stood as if transfixed to wood or marble in astonishment.
“Do you see it? — do you see it?” cried one, with tremulous eagerness. “It is the very same!”
“The same?” answered another, who had arrived in town only the night before. “Who do you mean? I see only a sea-captain in his shoregoing clothes, and a young lady in a foreign habit, with a bunch of beautiful flowers in her hat. On my word, she is as fair and bright a damsel as my eyes have looked on this many a day!”
“Yes; the same! — the very same!” repeated the other. “Drowne’s wooden image has come to life!”
Here was a miracle indeed! Yet, illuminated127 by the sunshine, or darkened by the alternate shade of the houses, and with its garments fluttering lightly in the morning breeze, there passed the image along the street. It was exactly and minutely the shape, the garb, and the face which the towns-people had so recently thronged128 to see and admire. Not a rich flower upon her head, not a single leaf, but had had its prototype in Drowne’s wooden workmanship, although now their fragile grace had become flexible, and was shaken by every footstep that the wearer made. The broad gold chain upon the neck was identical with the one represented on the image, and glistened129 with the motion imparted by the rise and fall of the bosom which it decorated. A real diamond sparkled on her finger. In her right hand she bore a pearl and ebony fan, which she flourished with a fantastic and bewitching coquetry, that was likewise expressed in all her movements as well as in the style of her beauty and the attire that so well harmonized with it. The face with its brilliant depth of complexion had the same piquancy of mirthful mischief130 that was fixed upon the countenance of the image, but which was here varied131 and continually shifting, yet always essentially132 the same, like the sunny gleam upon a bubbling fountain. On the whole, there was something so airy and yet so real in the figure, and withal so perfectly133 did it represent Drowne’s image, that people knew not whether to suppose the magic wood etherealized into a spirit or warmed and softened134 into an actual woman.
“One thing is certain,” muttered a Puritan of the old stamp, “Drowne has sold himself to the devil; and doubtless this gay Captain Hunnewell is a party to the bargain.”
“And I,” said a young man who overheard him, “would almost consent to be the third victim, for the liberty of saluting135 those lovely lips.”
“And so would I,” said Copley, the painter, “for the privilege of taking her picture.”
The image, or the apparition136, whichever it might be, still escorted by the bold captain, proceeded from Hanover Street through some of the cross lanes that make this portion of the town so intricate, to Ann Street, thence into Dock Square, and so downward to Drowne’s shop, which stood just on the water’s edge. The crowd still followed, gathering137 volume as it rolled along. Never had a modern miracle occurred in such broad daylight, nor in the presence of such a multitude of witnesses. The airy image, as if conscious that she was the object of the murmurs138 and disturbance139 that swelled140 behind her, appeared slightly vexed141 and flustered142, yet still in a manner consistent with the light vivacity143 and sportive mischief that were written in her countenance. She was observed to flutter her fan with such vehement144 rapidity that the elaborate delicacy145 of its workmanship gave way, and it remained broken in her hand.
Arriving at Drowne’s door, while the captain threw it open, the marvellous apparition paused an instant on the threshold, assuming the very attitude of the image, and casting over the crowd that glance of sunny coquetry which all remembered on the face of the oaken lady. She and her cavalier then disappeared.
“Ah!” murmured the crowd, drawing a deep breath, as with one vast pair of lungs.
“The world looks darker now that she has vanished,” said some of the young men.
But the aged146, whose recollections dated as far back as witch times, shook their heads, and hinted that our forefathers147 would have thought it a pious148 deed to burn the daughter of the oak with fire.
“If she be other than a bubble of the elements,” exclaimed Copley, “I must look upon her face again.”
He accordingly entered the shop; and there, in her usual corner, stood the image, gazing at him, as it might seem, with the very same expression of mirthful mischief that had been the farewell look of the apparition when, but a moment before, she turned her face towards the crowd. The carver stood beside his creation mending the beautiful fan, which by some accident was broken in her hand. But there was no longer any motion in the lifelike image, nor any real woman in the workshop, nor even the witchcraft149 of a sunny shadow, that might have deluded150 people’s eyes as it flitted along the street. Captain Hunnewell, too, had vanished. His hoarse151 sea-breezy tones, however, were audible on the other side of a door that opened upon the water.
“Sit down in the stern sheets, my lady,” said the gallant captain. “Come, bear a hand, you lubbers, and set us on board in the turning of a minute-glass.”
And then was heard the stroke of oars152.
“Drowne,” said Copley with a smile of intelligence, “you have been a truly fortunate man. What painter or statuary ever had such a subject! No wonder that she inspired a genius into you, and first created the artist who afterwards created her image.”
Drowne looked at him with a visage that bore the traces of tears, but from which the light of imagination and sensibility, so recently illuminating153 it, had departed. He was again the mechanical carver that he had been known to be all his lifetime.
“I hardly understand what you mean, Mr. Copley,” said he, putting his hand to his brow. “This image! Can it have been my work? Well, I have wrought it in a kind of dream; and now that I am broad awake I must set about finishing yonder figure of Admiral Vernon.”
And forthwith he employed himself on the stolid countenance of one of his wooden progeny, and completed it in his own mechanical style, from which he was never known afterwards to deviate154. He followed his business industriously155 for many years, acquired a competence156, and in the latter part of his life attained to a dignified157 station in the church, being remembered in records and traditions as Deacon Drowne, the carver. One of his productions, an Indian chief, gilded all over, stood during the better part of a century on the cupola of the Province House, bedazzling the eyes of those who looked upward, like an angel of the sun. Another work of the good deacon’s hand — a reduced likeness of his friend Captain Hunnewell, holding a telescope and quadrant — may be seen to this day, at the corner of Broad and State streets, serving in the useful capacity of sign to the shop of a nautical158 instrument maker159. We know not how to account for the inferiority of this quaint64 old figure, as compared with the recorded excellence160 of the Oaken Lady, unless on the supposition that in every human spirit there is imagination, sensibility, creative power, genius, which, according to circumstances, may either be developed in this world, or shrouded161 in a mask of dulness until another state of being. To our friend Drowne there came a brief season of excitement, kindled162 by love. It rendered him a genius for that one occasion, but, quenched163 in disappointment, left him again the mechanical carver in wood, without the power even of appreciating the work that his own hands had wrought. Yet who can doubt that the very highest state to which a human spirit can attain84, in its loftiest aspirations164, is its truest and most natural state, and that Drowne was more consistent with himself when he wrought the admirable figure of the mysterious lady, than when he perpetrated a whole progeny of blockheads?
There was a rumor in Boston, about this period, that a young Portuguese165 lady of rank, on some occasion of political or domestic disquietude, had fled from her home in Fayal and put herself under the protection of Captain Hunnewell, on board of whose vessel, and at whose residence, she was sheltered until a change of affairs. This fair stranger must have been the original of Drowne’s Wooden Image.
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1
contemplating
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| 深思，细想，仔细考虑( contemplate的现在分词 )； 注视，凝视； 考虑接受（发生某事的可能性）； 深思熟虑，沉思，苦思冥想 | |
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2
vessel
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| n.船舶；容器，器皿；管，导管，血管 | |
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3
bestow
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| v.把…赠与，把…授予；花费 | |
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cynosure
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| n.焦点 | |
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5
rattan
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| n.藤条，藤杖 | |
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6
bespeak
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| v.预定；预先请求 | |
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7
prow
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| n.(飞机)机头，船头 | |
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8
eminence
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| n.卓越，显赫；高地，高处；名家 | |
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wig
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| n.假发 | |
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scarlet
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| n.深红色，绯红色，红衣；adj.绯红色的 | |
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11
likeness
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| n.相像，相似（之处） | |
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12
valiant
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| adj.勇敢的，英勇的；n.勇士，勇敢的人 | |
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13
mariner
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| n.水手号不载人航天探测器，海员，航海者 | |
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14
determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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15
Neptune
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| n.海王星 | |
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16
marvelling
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| v.惊奇，对…感到惊奇( marvel的现在分词 ) | |
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inspection
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| n.检查，审查，检阅 | |
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18
humble
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| adj.谦卑的，恭顺的；地位低下的；v.降低，贬低 | |
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19
distinguished
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| adj.卓越的，杰出的，著名的 | |
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knack
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| n.诀窍，做事情的灵巧的，便利的方法 | |
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durable
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| adj.持久的，耐久的 | |
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sufficiently
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| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
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possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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25
remarkably
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| ad.不同寻常地，相当地 | |
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destitute
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| adj.缺乏的；穷困的 | |
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eligible
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| adj.有条件被选中的；(尤指婚姻等)合适(意)的 | |
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noted
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| adj.著名的，知名的 | |
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carving
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| n.雕刻品，雕花 | |
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ornamental
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| adj.装饰的；作装饰用的；n.装饰品；观赏植物 | |
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31
urns
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| n.壶( urn的名词复数 )；瓮；缸；骨灰瓮 | |
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32
grotesque
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| adj.怪诞的，丑陋的；n.怪诞的图案，怪人（物） | |
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33
apothecary
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| n.药剂师 | |
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34
gilded
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| a.镀金的，富有的 | |
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35
mortar
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| n.灰浆，灰泥；迫击炮；v.把…用灰浆涂接合 | |
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36
skilful
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| (=skillful)adj.灵巧的，熟练的 | |
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37
vessels
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| n.血管( vessel的名词复数 )；船；容器；（具有特殊品质或接受特殊品质的）人 | |
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38
monarch
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| n.帝王，君主，最高统治者 | |
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39
countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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40
innate
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| adj.天生的，固有的，天赋的 | |
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41
specimens
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| n.样品( specimen的名词复数 )；范例；（化验的）抽样；某种类型的人 | |
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42
ignobly
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| 卑贱地，下流地 | |
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43
shipping
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| n.船运（发货，运输，乘船） | |
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44
hardy
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| adj.勇敢的，果断的，吃苦的；耐寒的 | |
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45
mariners
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| 海员，水手（mariner的复数形式） | |
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46
pervaded
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| v.遍及，弥漫( pervade的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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47
progeny
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| n.后代，子孙；结果 | |
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48
benign
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| adj.善良的，慈祥的；良性的，无危险的 | |
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49
remarkable
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| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
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50
bestows
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| 赠给，授予( bestow的第三人称单数 ) | |
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51
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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52
perplexed
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| adj.不知所措的 | |
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53
wharf
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| n.码头，停泊处 | |
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54
wont
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|
| adj.习惯于；v.习惯；n.习惯 | |
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55
elicit
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| v.引出,抽出,引起 | |
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56
destined
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|
| adj.命中注定的；(for)以…为目的地的 | |
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57
rigid
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| adj.严格的，死板的；刚硬的，僵硬的 | |
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58
mimic
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| v.模仿，戏弄；n.模仿他人言行的人 | |
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59
beheld
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| 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 | |
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60
fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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61
tantalizing
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|
| adj.逗人的；惹弄人的；撩人的；煽情的v.逗弄，引诱，折磨( tantalize的现在分词 ) | |
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62
celebrated
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|
| adj.有名的，声誉卓著的 | |
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63
dearth
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| n.缺乏，粮食不足，饥谨 | |
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64
quaint
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| adj.古雅的，离奇有趣的，奇怪的 | |
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65
inflexible
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| adj.不可改变的，不受影响的，不屈服的 | |
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66
dame
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| n.女士 | |
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67
bestowed
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| 赠给，授予( bestow的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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68
questionable
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| adj.可疑的，有问题的 | |
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69
stolid
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| adj.无动于衷的，感情麻木的 | |
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70
transformation
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| n.变化；改造；转变 | |
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71
imbibing
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| v.吸收( imbibe的现在分词 )；喝；吸取；吸气 | |
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72
alluding
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| 提及，暗指( allude的现在分词 ) | |
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73
deficient
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|
| adj.不足的，不充份的，有缺陷的 | |
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74
abortions
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|
| n.小产( abortion的名词复数 )；小产胎儿；（计划）等中止或夭折；败育 | |
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75
scattered
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|
| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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76
astonishment
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|
| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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77
beckoning
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|
| adj.引诱人的，令人心动的v.（用头或手的动作）示意，召唤( beckon的现在分词 ) | |
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78
fervently
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|
| adv.热烈地，热情地，强烈地 | |
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79
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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80
misty
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|
| adj.雾蒙蒙的，有雾的 | |
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81
bosom
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|
| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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82
gracefulness
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83
laden
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| adj.装满了的；充满了的；负了重担的；苦恼的 | |
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84
attain
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|
| vt.达到，获得，完成 | |
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85
attained
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| （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） | |
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86
appendages
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|
| n.附属物( appendage的名词复数 )；依附的人；附属器官；附属肢体（如臂、腿、尾等） | |
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87
earrings
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| n.耳环( earring的名词复数 )；耳坠子 | |
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88
attire
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| v.穿衣，装扮[同]array；n.衣着；盛装 | |
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89
judgment
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|
| n.审判；判断力，识别力，看法，意见 | |
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90
artistic
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| adj.艺术(家)的，美术(家)的；善于艺术创作的 | |
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91
precisely
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|
| adv.恰好，正好，精确地，细致地 | |
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92
haughty
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|
| adj.傲慢的，高傲的 | |
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93
piquancy
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|
| n.辛辣，辣味，痛快 | |
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94
nay
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|
| adv.不；n.反对票，投反对票者 | |
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95
desecrate
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|
| v.供俗用，亵渎，污辱 | |
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96
exquisite
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|
| adj.精美的；敏锐的；剧烈的，感觉强烈的 | |
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97
slippers
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| n. 拖鞋 | |
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98
faltered
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|
| （嗓音）颤抖( falter的过去式和过去分词 )； 支吾其词； 蹒跚； 摇晃 | |
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99
gushed
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| v.喷，涌( gush的过去式和过去分词 )；滔滔不绝地说话 | |
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100
wrought
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|
| v.引起；以…原料制作；运转；adj.制造的 | |
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101
transcend
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|
| vt.超出，超越(理性等)的范围 | |
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102
secrecy
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|
| n.秘密，保密，隐蔽 | |
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103
behold
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|
| v.看，注视，看到 | |
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104
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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105
reverence
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|
| n.敬畏，尊敬，尊严；Reverence:对某些基督教神职人员的尊称；v.尊敬，敬畏，崇敬 | |
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106
query
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|
| n.疑问，问号，质问；vt.询问，表示怀疑 | |
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107
complexion
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| n.肤色；情况，局面；气质，性格 | |
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108
garb
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| n.服装，装束 | |
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109
embroidery
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| n.绣花，刺绣；绣制品 | |
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110
exquisitely
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| adv.精致地；强烈地；剧烈地；异常地 | |
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111
embodied
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| v.表现( embody的过去式和过去分词 )；象征；包括；包含 | |
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112
voluptuous
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|
| adj.肉欲的，骄奢淫逸的 | |
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113
rumor
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| n.谣言，谣传，传说 | |
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114
passionate
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| adj.热情的，热烈的，激昂的，易动情的，易怒的，性情暴躁的 | |
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115
ardor
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| n.热情，狂热 | |
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116
seduce
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| vt.勾引，诱奸，诱惑，引诱 | |
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117
celebrity
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| n.名人，名流；著名，名声，名望 | |
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118
astounded
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| v.使震惊(astound的过去式和过去分词)；愕然；愕；惊讶 | |
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119
narrative
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| n.叙述，故事；adj.叙事的，故事体的 | |
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120
metropolis
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| n.首府；大城市 | |
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121
gallant
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| adj.英勇的，豪侠的；(向女人)献殷勤的 | |
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122
stylishly
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| adv.时髦地，新式地 | |
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123
embroidered
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| adj．绣花的 | |
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124
triangular
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| adj.三角（形）的，三者间的 | |
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125
binding
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| 有约束力的，有效的，应遵守的 | |
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126
hanger
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| n.吊架，吊轴承；挂钩 | |
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127
illuminated
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| adj.被照明的；受启迪的 | |
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128
thronged
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| v.成群，挤满( throng的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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129
glistened
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| v.湿物闪耀，闪亮( glisten的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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130
mischief
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| n.损害，伤害，危害；恶作剧，捣蛋，胡闹 | |
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131
varied
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| adj.多样的，多变化的 | |
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132
essentially
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| adv.本质上，实质上，基本上 | |
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133
perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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134
softened
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| （使）变软( soften的过去式和过去分词 )； 缓解打击； 缓和； 安慰 | |
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135
saluting
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| v.欢迎，致敬( salute的现在分词 )；赞扬，赞颂 | |
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136
apparition
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| n.幽灵，神奇的现象 | |
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137
gathering
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| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
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138
murmurs
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| n.低沉、连续而不清的声音( murmur的名词复数 )；低语声；怨言；嘀咕 | |
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139
disturbance
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| n.动乱，骚动；打扰，干扰；(身心)失调 | |
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140
swelled
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| 增强( swell的过去式和过去分词 )； 肿胀； （使）凸出； 充满（激情） | |
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141
vexed
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| adj.争论不休的；（指问题等）棘手的；争论不休的问题；烦恼的v.使烦恼( vex的过去式和过去分词 )；使苦恼；使生气；详细讨论 | |
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142
flustered
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|
| adj.慌张的；激动不安的v.使慌乱，使不安( fluster的过去式和过去分词) | |
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143
vivacity
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| n.快活，活泼，精神充沛 | |
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144
vehement
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| adj.感情强烈的；热烈的；(人)有强烈感情的 | |
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145
delicacy
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| n.精致，细微，微妙，精良；美味，佳肴 | |
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146
aged
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| adj.年老的，陈年的 | |
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147
forefathers
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| n.祖先，先人；祖先，祖宗( forefather的名词复数 )；列祖列宗；前人 | |
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148
pious
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| adj.虔诚的；道貌岸然的 | |
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149
witchcraft
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| n.魔法，巫术 | |
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150
deluded
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| v.欺骗，哄骗( delude的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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151
hoarse
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| adj.嘶哑的，沙哑的 | |
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152
oars
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| n.桨，橹( oar的名词复数 )；划手v.划（行）( oar的第三人称单数 ) | |
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153
illuminating
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| a.富于启发性的，有助阐明的 | |
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154
deviate
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| v.(from)背离，偏离 | |
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155
industriously
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156
competence
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| n.能力，胜任，称职 | |
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157
dignified
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| a.可敬的，高贵的 | |
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158
nautical
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|
| adj.海上的，航海的，船员的 | |
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159
maker
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| n.制造者，制造商 | |
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160
excellence
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|
| n.优秀，杰出，(pl.)优点，美德 | |
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161
shrouded
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| v.隐瞒( shroud的过去式和过去分词 )；保密 | |
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162
kindled
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| （使某物）燃烧，着火( kindle的过去式和过去分词 )； 激起（感情等）； 发亮，放光 | |
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163
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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164
aspirations
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| 强烈的愿望( aspiration的名词复数 )； 志向； 发送气音； 发 h 音 | |
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165
Portuguese
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| n.葡萄牙人；葡萄牙语 | |
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