When Scottish with English met,
But it was marvel1 if the red blood ran not
As the rain does in the street.
BATTLE OF OTTERBOURNE.
A considerable band of Scottish warriors2 had joined the Crusaders, and had naturally placed themselves under the command of the English monarch3, being, like his native troops, most of them of Saxon and Norman descent, speaking the same languages, possessed5, some of them, of English as well as Scottish demesnes, and allied6 in some cases by blood and intermarriage. The period also preceded that when the grasping ambition of Edward I. gave a deadly and envenomed character to the wars betwixt the two nations — the English fighting for the subjugation7 of Scotland, and the Scottish, with all the stern determination and obstinacy8 which has ever characterized their nation, for the defence of their independence, by the most violent means, under the most disadvantageous circumstances, and at the most extreme hazard. As yet, wars betwixt the two nations, though fierce and frequent, had been conducted on principles of fair hostility9, and admitted of those softening10 shades by which courtesy and the respect for open and generous foemen qualify and mitigate12 the horrors of war. In time of peace, therefore, and especially when both, as at present, were engaged in war, waged in behalf of a common cause, and rendered dear to them by their ideas of religion, the adventurers of both countries frequently fought side by side, their national emulation13 serving only to stimulate14 them to excel each other in their efforts against the common enemy.
The frank and martial15 character of Richard, who made no distinction betwixt his own subjects and those of William of Scotland, excepting as they bore themselves in the field of battle, tended much to conciliate the troops of both nations. But upon his illness, and the disadvantageous circumstances in which the Crusaders were placed, the national disunion between the various bands united in the Crusade, began to display itself, just as old wounds break out afresh in the human body when under the influence of disease or debility.
The Scottish and English, equally jealous and high-spirited, and apt to take offence — the former the more so, because the poorer and the weaker nation — began to fill up by internal dissension the period when the truce16 forbade them to wreak17 their united vengeance18 on the Saracens. Like the contending Roman chiefs of old, the Scottish would admit no superiority, and their southern neighbours would brook19 no equality. There were charges and recriminations, and both the common soldiery and their leaders and commanders, who had been good comrades in time of victory, lowered on each other in the period of adversity, as if their union had not been then more essential than ever, not only to the success of their common cause, but to their joint20 safety. The same disunion had begun to show itself betwixt the French and English, the Italians and the Germans, and even between the Danes and Swedes; but it is only that which divided the two nations whom one island bred, and who seemed more animated21 against each other for the very reason, that our narrative22 is principally concerned with.
Of all the English nobles who had followed their King to Palestine, De Vaux was most prejudiced against the Scottish. They were his near neighbours, with whom he had been engaged during his whole life in private or public warfare23, and on whom he had inflicted24 many calamities25, while he had sustained at their hands not a few. His love and devotion to the King was like the vivid affection of the old English mastiff to his master, leaving him churlish and inaccessible26 to all others even towards those to whom he was indifferent — and rough and dangerous to any against whom he entertained a prejudice. De Vaux had never observed without jealousy27 and displeasure his King exhibit any mark of courtesy or favour to the wicked, deceitful, and ferocious28 race born on the other side of a river, or an imaginary line drawn29 through waste and wilderness30; and he even doubted the success of a Crusade in which they were suffered to bear arms, holding them in his secret soul little better than the Saracens whom he came to combat. It may be added that, as being himself a blunt and downright Englishman, unaccustomed to conceal31 the slightest movement either of love or of dislike, he accounted the fair-spoken courtesy which the Scots had learned, either from imitation of their frequent allies, the French, or which might have arisen from their own proud and reserved character, as a false and astucious mark of the most dangerous designs against their neighbours, over whom he believed, with genuine English confidence, they could, by fair manhood, never obtain any advantage.
Yet, though De Vaux entertained these sentiments concerning his Northern neighbours, and extended them, with little mitigation, even to such as had assumed the Cross, his respect for the King, and a sense of the duty imposed by his vow33 as a Crusader, prevented him from displaying them otherwise than by regularly shunning34 all intercourse35 with his Scottish brethren-at-arms as far as possible, by observing a sullen36 taciturnity when compelled to meet them occasionally, and by looking scornfully upon them when they encountered on the march and in camp. The Scottish barons38 and knights40 were not men to bear his scorn unobserved or unreplied to; and it came to that pass that he was regarded as the determined42 and active enemy of a nation, whom, after all, he only disliked, and in some sort despised. Nay43, it was remarked by close observers that, if he had not towards them the charity of Scripture44, which suffereth long, and judges kindly45, he was by no means deficient46 in the subordinate and limited virtue47, which alleviates48 and relieves the wants of others. The wealth of Thomas of Gilsland procured49 supplies of provisions and medicines, and some of these usually flowed by secret channels into the quarters of the Scottish — his surly benevolence50 proceeding51 on the principle that, next to a man’s friend, his foe11 was of most importance to him, passing over all the intermediate relations as too indifferent to merit even a thought. This explanation is necessary, in order that the reader may fully37 understand what we are now to detail.
Thomas de Vaux had not made many steps beyond the entrance of the royal pavilion when he was aware of what the far more acute ear of the English monarch — no mean proficient52 in the art of minstrelsy — had instantly discovered, that the musical strains, namely, which had reached their ears, were produced by the pipes, shalms, and kettle-drums of the Saracens; and at the bottom of an avenue of tents, which formed a broad access to the pavilion of Richard, he could see a crowd of idle soldiers assembled around the spot from which the music was heard, almost in the centre of the camp; and he saw, with great surprise, mingled53 amid the helmets of various forms worn by the Crusaders of different nations, white turbans and long pikes, announcing the presence of armed Saracens, and the huge deformed54 heads of several camels or dromedaries, overlooking the multitude by aid of their long, disproportioned necks.
Wondering, and displeased55 at a sight so unexpected and singular — for it was customary to leave all flags of truce and other communications from the enemy at an appointed place without the barriers — the baron39 looked eagerly round for some one of whom he might inquire the cause of this alarming novelty.
The first person whom he met advancing to him he set down at once, by his grave and haughty56 step, as a Spaniard or a Scot; and presently after muttered to himself, “And a Scot it is — he of the Leopard57. I have seen him fight indifferently well, for one of his country.”
Loath58 to ask even a passing question, he was about to pass Sir Kenneth, with that sullen and lowering port which seems to say, “I know thee, but I will hold no communication with thee.” But his purpose was defeated by the Northern Knight41, who moved forward directly to him, and accosting59 him with formal courtesy, said, “My Lord de Vaux of Gilsland, I have in charge to speak with you.”
“Ha!” returned the English baron, “with me? But say your pleasure, so it be shortly spoken — I am on the King’s errand.”
“Mine touches King Richard yet more nearly,” answered Sir Kenneth; “I bring him, I trust, health.”
The Lord of Gilsland measured the Scot with incredulous eyes, and replied, “Thou art no leech60, I think, Sir Scot; I had as soon thought of your bringing the King of England wealth.”
Sir Kenneth, though displeased with the manner of the baron’s reply, answered calmly, “Health to Richard is glory and wealth to Christendom. — But my time presses; I pray you, may I see the King?”
“Surely not, fair sir,” said the baron, “until your errand be told more distinctly. The sick chambers62 of princes open not to all who inquire, like a northern hostelry.”
“My lord,” said Kenneth, “the cross which I wear in common with yourself, and the importance of what I have to tell, must, for the present, cause me to pass over a bearing which else I were unapt to endure. In plain language, then, I bring with me a Moorish63 physician, who undertakes to work a cure on King Richard.”
“A Moorish physician!” said De Vaux; “and who will warrant that he brings not poisons instead of remedies?”
“His own life, my lord — his head, which he offers as a guarantee.”
“I have known many a resolute64 ruffian,” said De Vaux, “who valued his own life as little as it deserved, and would troop to the gallows65 as merrily as if the hangman were his partner in a dance.”
“But thus it is, my lord,” replied the Scot. “Saladin, to whom none will deny the credit of a generous and valiant66 enemy, hath sent this leech hither with an honourable67 retinue68 and guard, befitting the high estimation in which El Hakim [The Physician] is held by the Soldan, and with fruits and refreshments69 for the King’s private chamber61, and such message as may pass betwixt honourable enemies, praying him to be recovered of his fever, that he may be the fitter to receive a visit from the Soldan, with his naked scimitar in his hand, and a hundred thousand cavaliers at his back. Will it please you, who are of the King’s secret council, to cause these camels to be discharged of their burdens, and some order taken as to the reception of the learned physician?”
“Wonderful!” said De Vaux, as speaking to himself. —“And who will vouch70 for the honour of Saladin, in a case when bad faith would rid him at once of his most powerful adversary71?”
“I myself,” replied Sir Kenneth, “will be his guarantee, with honour, life, and fortune.”
“Strange!” again ejaculated De Vaux; “the North vouches72 for the South — the Scot for the Turk! May I crave73 of you, Sir Knight, how you became concerned in this affair?”
“I have been absent on a pilgrimage, in the course of which,” replied Sir Kenneth “I had a message to discharge towards the holy hermit74 of Engaddi.”
“May I not be entrusted75 with it, Sir Kenneth, and with the answer of the holy man?”
“It may not be, my lord,” answered the Scot.
“I am of the secret council of England,” said the Englishman haughtily76.
“To which land I owe no allegiance,” said Kenneth. “Though I have voluntarily followed in this war the personal fortunes of England’s sovereign, I was dispatched by the General Council of the kings, princes, and supreme77 leaders of the army of the Blessed Cross, and to them only I render my errand.”
“Ha! sayest thou?” said the proud Baron de Vaux. “But know, messenger of the kings and princes as thou mayest be, no leech shall approach the sick-bed of Richard of England without the consent of him of Gilsland; and they will come on evil errand who dare to intrude78 themselves against it.”
He was turning loftily away, when the Scot, placing himself closer, and more opposite to him, asked, in a calm voice, yet not without expressing his share of pride, whether the Lord of Gilsland esteemed79 him a gentleman and a good knight.
“All Scots are ennobled by their birthright,” answered Thomas de Vaux, something ironically; but sensible of his own injustice80, and perceiving that Kenneth’s colour rose, he added, “For a good knight it were sin to doubt you, in one at least who has seen you well and bravely discharge your devoir.”
“Well, then,” said the Scottish knight, satisfied with the frankness of the last admission, “and let me swear to you, Thomas of Gilsland, that, as I am true Scottish man, which I hold a privilege equal to my ancient gentry81, and as sure as I am a belted knight, and come hither to acquire LOS [Los — laus, praise, or renown] and fame in this mortal life, and forgiveness of my sins in that which is to come — so truly, and by the blessed Cross which I wear, do I protest unto you that I desire but the safety of Richard Coeur de Lion, in recommending the ministry82 of this Moslem83 physician.”
The Englishman was struck with the solemnity of the obtestation, and answered with more cordiality than he had yet exhibited, “Tell me, Sir Knight of the Leopard, granting (which I do not doubt) that thou art thyself satisfied in this matter, shall I do well, in a land where the art of poisoning is as general as that of cooking, to bring this unknown physician to practise with his drugs on a health so valuable to Christendom?”
“My lord,” replied the Scot, “thus only can I reply — that my squire84, the only one of my retinue whom war and disease had left in attendance on me, has been of late suffering dangerously under this same fever, which, in valiant King Richard, has disabled the principal limb of our holy enterprise. This leech, this El Hakim, hath ministered remedies to him not two hours since, and already he hath fallen into a refreshing85 sleep. That he can cure the disorder86, which has proved so fatal, I nothing doubt; that he hath the purpose to do it is, I think, warranted by his mission from the royal Soldan, who is true-hearted and loyal, so far as a blinded infidel may be called so; and for his eventual87 success, the certainty of reward in case of succeeding, and punishment in case of voluntary failure, may be a sufficient guarantee.”
The Englishman listened with downcast looks, as one who doubted, yet was not unwilling88 to receive conviction. At length he looked up and said, “May I see your sick squire, fair sir?”
The Scottish knight hesitated and coloured, yet answered at last, “Willingly, my Lord of Gilsland. But you must remember, when you see my poor quarter, that the nobles and knights of Scotland feed not so high, sleep not so soft, and care not for the magnificence of lodgment which is Proper to their southern neighbours. I am POORLY lodged89, my Lord of Gilsland,” he added, with a haughty emphasis on the word, while, with some unwillingness90, he led the way to his temporary place of abode91.
Whatever were the prejudices of De Vaux against the nation of his new acquaintance, and though we undertake not to deny that some of these were excited by its proverbial poverty, he had too much nobleness of disposition92 to enjoy the mortification93 of a brave individual thus compelled to make known wants which his pride would gladly have concealed94.
“Shame to the soldier of the Cross,” he said, “who thinks of worldly splendour, or of luxurious95 accommodation, when pressing forward to the conquest of the Holy City. Fare as hard as we may, we shall yet be better than the host of martyrs96 and of saints, who, having trod these scenes before us, now hold golden lamps and evergreen97 palms.”
This was the most metaphorical98 speech which Thomas of Gilsland was ever known to utter, the rather, perhaps (as will sometimes happen), that it did not entirely99 express his own sentiments, being somewhat a lover of good cheer and splendid accommodation. By this time they reached the place of the camp where the Knight of the Leopard had assumed his abode.
Appearances here did indeed promise no breach100 of the laws of mortification, to which the Crusaders, according to the opinion expressed by him of Gilsland, ought to subject themselves. A space of ground, large enough to accommodate perhaps thirty tents, according to the Crusaders’ rules of castrametation, was partly vacant — because, in ostentation101, the knight had demanded ground to the extent of his original retinue — partly occupied by a few miserable102 huts, hastily constructed of boughs103, and covered with palm-leaves. These habitations seemed entirely deserted104, and several of them were ruinous. The central hut, which represented the pavilion of the leader, was distinguished105 by his swallow-tailed pennon, placed on the point of a spear, from which its long folds dropped motionless to the ground, as if sickening under the scorching106 rays of the Asiatic sun. But no pages or squires107 — not even a solitary108 warder — was placed by the emblem109 of feudal110 power and knightly111 degree. If its reputation defended it not from insult, it had no other guard.
Sir Kenneth cast a melancholy112 look around him, but suppessing his feelings, entered the hut, making a sign to the Baron of Gilsland to follow. He also cast around a glance of examination, which implied pity not altogether unmingled with contempt, to which, perhaps, it is as nearly akin4 as it is said to be to love. He then stooped his lofty crest113, and entered a lowly hut, which his bulky form seemed almost entirely to fill.
The interior of the hut was chiefly occupied by two beds. One was empty, but composed of collected leaves, and spread with an antelope114’s hide. It seemed, from the articles of armour115 laid beside it, and from a crucifix of silver, carefully and reverentially disposed at the head, to be the couch of the knight himself. The other contained the invalid116, of whom Sir Kenneth had spoken, a strong-built and harsh-featured man, past, as his looks betokened117, the middle age of life. His couch was trimmed more softly than his master’s, and it was plain that the more courtly garments of the latter, the loose robe in which the knights showed themselves on pacific occasions, and the other little spare articles of dress and adornment118, had been applied119 by Sir Kenneth to the accommodation of his sick domestic. In an outward part of the hut, which yet was within the range of the English baron’s eye, a boy, rudely attired120 with buskins of deer’s hide, a blue cap or bonnet121, and a doublet, whose original finery was much tarnished122, sat on his knees by a chafing-dish filled with charcoal123, cooking upon a plate of iron the cakes of barley-bread, which were then, and still are, a favourite food with the Scottish people. Part of an antelope was suspended against one of the main props124 of the hut. Nor was it difficult to know how it had been procured; for a large stag greyhound, nobler in size and appearance than those even which guarded King Richard’s sick-bed, lay eyeing the process of baking the cake. The sagacious animal, on their first entrance, uttered a stifled125 growl126, which sounded from his deep chest like distant thunder. But he saw his master, and acknowledged his presence by wagging his tail and couching his head, abstaining127 from more tumultuous or noisy greeting, as if his noble instinct had taught him the propriety128 of silence in a sick man’s chamber.
Beside the couch sat on a cushion, also composed of skins, the Moorish physician of whom Sir Kenneth had spoken, cross-legged, after the Eastern fashion. The imperfect light showed little of him, save that the lower part of his face was covered with a long, black beard, which descended129 over his breast; that he wore a high TOLPACH, a Tartar cap of the lamb’s wool manufactured at Astracan, bearing the same dusky colour; and that his ample caftan, or Turkish robe, was also of a dark hue130. Two piercing eyes, which gleamed with unusual lustre131, were the only lineaments of his visage that could be discerned amid the darkness in which he was enveloped132.
The English lord stood silent with a sort of reverential awe133; for notwithstanding the roughness of his general bearing, a scene of distress135 and poverty, firmly endured without complaint or murmur136, would at any time have claimed more reverence137 from Thomas de Vaux than would all the splendid formalities of a royal presence-chamber, unless that presence-chamber were King Richard’s own. Nothing was for a time heard but the heavy and regular breathings of the invalid, who seemed in profound repose138.
“He hath not slept for six nights before,” said Sir Kenneth, “as I am assured by the youth, his attendant.”
“Noble Scot,” said Thomas de Vaux, grasping the Scottish knight’s hand, with a pressure which had more of cordiality than he permitted his words to utter, “this gear must be amended139. Your esquire is but too evil fed and looked to.”
In the latter part of this speech he naturally raised his voice to its usual decided140 tone, The sick man was disturbed in his slumbers141.
“My master,” he said, murmuring as in a dream, “noble Sir Kenneth, taste not, to you as to me, the waters of the Clyde cold and refreshing after the brackish142 springs of Palestine?”
“He dreams of his native land, and is happy in his slumbers,” whispered Sir Kenneth to De Vaux; but had scarce uttered the words, when the physician, arising from the place which he had taken near the couch of the sick, and laying the hand of the patient, whose pulse he had been carefully watching, quietly upon the couch, came to the two knights, and taking them each by the arm, while he intimated to them to remain silent, led them to the front of the hut.
“In the name of Issa Ben Mariam,” he said, “whom we honour as you, though not with the same blinded superstition143, disturb not the effect of the blessed medicine of which he hath partaken. To awaken144 him now is death or deprivation145 of reason; but return at the hour when the muezzin calls from the minaret146 to evening prayer in the mosque147, and if left undisturbed until then, I promise you this same Frankish soldier shall be able, without prejudice to his health, to hold some brief converse148 with you on any matters on which either, and especially his master, may have to question him.”
The knights retreated before the authoritative149 commands of the leech, who seemed fully to comprehend the importance of the Eastern proverb that the sick chamber of the patient is the kingdom of the physician.
They paused, and remained standing134 together at the door of the hut — Sir Kenneth with the air of one who expected his visitor to say farewell, and De Vaux as if he had something on his mind which prevented him from doing so. The hound, however, had pressed out of the tent after them, and now thrust his long, rough countenance150 into the hand of his master, as if modestly soliciting151 some mark of his kindness. He had no sooner received the notice which he desired, in the shape of a kind word and slight caress152, than, eager to acknowledge his gratitude153 and joy for his master’s return, he flew off at full speed, galloping154 in full career, and with outstretched tail, here and there, about and around, cross-ways and endlong, through the decayed huts and the esplanade we have described, but never transgressing155 those precincts which his sagacity knew were protected by his master’s pennon. After a few gambols156 of this kind, the dog, coming close up to his master, laid at once aside his frolicsome157 mood, relapsed into his usual gravity and slowness of gesture and deportment, and looked as if he were ashamed that anything should have moved him to depart so far out of his sober self-control.
Both knights looked on with pleasure; for Sir Kenneth was justly proud of his noble hound, and the northern English baron was, of course, an admirer of the chase, and a judge of the animal’s merits.
“A right able dog,” he said. “I think, fair sir, King Richard hath not an ALAN which may match him, if he be as stanch158 as he is swift. But let me pray you — speaking in all honour and kindness — have you not heard the proclamation that no one under the rank of earl shall keep hunting dogs within King Richard’s camp without the royal license159, which, I think, Sir Kenneth, hath not been issued to you? I speak as Master of the Horse.”
“And I answer as a free Scottish knight,” said Kenneth sternly. “For the present I follow the banner of England, but I cannot remember that I have ever subjected myself to the forest-laws of that kingdom, nor have I such respect for them as would incline me to do so. When the trumpet160 sounds to arms, my foot is in the stirrup as soon as any — when it clangs for the charge, my lance has not yet been the last laid in the rest. But for my hours of liberty or of idleness King Richard has no title to bar my recreation.”
“Nevertheless,” said De Vaux, “it is a folly161 to disobey the King’s ordinance162; so, with your good leave, I, as having authority in that matter, will send you a protection for my friend here.”
“I thank you,” said the Scot coldly; “but he knows my allotted163 quarters, and within these I can protect him myself. — And yet,” he said, suddenly changing his manner, “this is but a cold return for a well-meant kindness. I thank you, my lord, most heartily164. The King’s equerries or prickers might find Roswal at disadvantage, and do him some injury, which I should not, perhaps, be slow in returning, and so ill might come of it. You have seen so much of my house-keeping, my lord,” he added, with a smile, “that I need not shame to say that Roswal is our principal purveyor165, and well I hope our Lion Richard will not be like the lion in the minstrel fable166, that went a-hunting, and kept the whole booty to himself. I cannot think he would grudge167 a poor gentleman, who follows him faithfully, his hour of sport and his morsel168 of game, more especially when other food is hard enough to come by.”
“By my faith, you do the King no more than justice; and yet,” said the baron, “there is something in these words, vert and venison, that turns the very brains of our Norman princes.”
“We have heard of late,” said the Scot, “by minstrels and pilgrims, that your outlawed169 yeomen have formed great bands in the shires of York and Nottingham, having at their head a most stout170 archer171, called Robin172 Hood32, with his lieutenant173, Little John. Methinks it were better that Richard relaxed his forest-code in England, than endeavour to enforce it in the Holy Land.”
“Wild work, Sir Kenneth,” replied De Vaux, shrugging his shoulders, as one who would avoid a perilous174 or unpleasing topic —“a mad world, sir. I must now bid you adieu, having presently to return to the King’s pavilion. At vespers I will again, with your leave, visit your quarters, and speak with this same infidel physician. I would, in the meantime, were it no offence, willingly send you what would somewhat mend your cheer.”
“I thank you, sir,” said Sir Kenneth, “but it needs not. Roswal hath already stocked my larder175 for two weeks, since the sun of Palestine, if it brings diseases, serves also to dry venison.”
The two warriors parted much better friends than they had met; but ere they separated, Thomas de Vaux informed himself at more length of the circumstances attending the mission of the Eastern physician, and received from the Scottish knight the credentials176 which he had brought to King Richard on the part of Saladin.
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
marvel
|
|
| vi.(at)惊叹vt.感到惊异；n.令人惊异的事 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
warriors
|
|
| 武士，勇士，战士( warrior的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
monarch
|
|
| n.帝王，君主，最高统治者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
akin
|
|
| adj.同族的，类似的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
possessed
|
|
| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
allied
|
|
| adj.协约国的；同盟国的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
subjugation
|
|
| n.镇压，平息，征服 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
obstinacy
|
|
| n.顽固；（病痛等）难治 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
hostility
|
|
| n.敌对，敌意；抵制［pl.］交战，战争 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
softening
|
|
| 变软，软化 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
foe
|
|
| n.敌人，仇敌 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
mitigate
|
|
| vt.（使）减轻，（使）缓和 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
emulation
|
|
| n.竞争；仿效 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
stimulate
|
|
| vt.刺激，使兴奋；激励，使…振奋 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
martial
|
|
| adj.战争的，军事的，尚武的，威武的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
truce
|
|
| n.休战，(争执，烦恼等的)缓和；v.以停战结束 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
wreak
|
|
| v.发泄；报复 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
vengeance
|
|
| n.报复，报仇，复仇 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
brook
|
|
| n.小河，溪；v.忍受，容让 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
joint
|
|
| adj.联合的，共同的；n.关节，接合处；v.连接，贴合 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
animated
|
|
| adj.生气勃勃的，活跃的，愉快的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
narrative
|
|
| n.叙述，故事；adj.叙事的，故事体的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
warfare
|
|
| n.战争(状态)；斗争；冲突 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
inflicted
|
|
| 把…强加给，使承受，遭受( inflict的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
calamities
|
|
| n.灾祸，灾难( calamity的名词复数 )；不幸之事 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
inaccessible
|
|
| adj.达不到的，难接近的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
jealousy
|
|
| n.妒忌，嫉妒，猜忌 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
ferocious
|
|
| adj.凶猛的，残暴的，极度的，十分强烈的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
drawn
|
|
| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
wilderness
|
|
| n.杳无人烟的一片陆地、水等，荒漠 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
conceal
|
|
| v.隐藏，隐瞒，隐蔽 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
hood
|
|
| n.头巾，兜帽，覆盖；v.罩上，以头巾覆盖 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
vow
|
|
| n.誓(言)，誓约；v.起誓，立誓 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
shunning
|
|
| v.避开，回避，避免( shun的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
intercourse
|
|
| n.性交；交流，交往，交际 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
sullen
|
|
| adj.愠怒的，闷闷不乐的，(天气等)阴沉的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
fully
|
|
| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
barons
|
|
| 男爵( baron的名词复数 )； 巨头； 大王； 大亨 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
baron
|
|
| n.男爵；(商业界等)巨头，大王 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
knights
|
|
| 骑士； （中古时代的）武士( knight的名词复数 )； 骑士； 爵士； （国际象棋中）马 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
knight
|
|
| n.骑士，武士；爵士 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
determined
|
|
| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
nay
|
|
| adv.不；n.反对票，投反对票者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
scripture
|
|
| n.经文，圣书，手稿；Scripture:(常用复数)《圣经》，《圣经》中的一段 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
kindly
|
|
| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
deficient
|
|
| adj.不足的，不充份的，有缺陷的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
virtue
|
|
| n.德行，美德；贞操；优点；功效，效力 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
alleviates
|
|
| 减轻，缓解，缓和( alleviate的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
procured
|
|
| v.（努力）取得， （设法）获得( procure的过去式和过去分词 )；拉皮条 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
benevolence
|
|
| n.慈悲，捐助 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
proceeding
|
|
| n.行动，进行，(pl.)会议录，学报 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
proficient
|
|
| adj.熟练的，精通的；n.能手，专家 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
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： |
|
|
|
|
54
deformed
|
|
| adj.畸形的；变形的；丑的，破相了的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
displeased
|
|
| a.不快的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
haughty
|
|
| adj.傲慢的，高傲的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
leopard
|
|
| n.豹 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
58
loath
|
|
| adj.不愿意的；勉强的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
59
accosting
|
|
| v.走过去跟…讲话( accost的现在分词 )；跟…搭讪；（乞丐等）上前向…乞讨；（妓女等）勾搭 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
leech
|
|
| n.水蛭，吸血鬼，榨取他人利益的人；vt.以水蛭吸血；vi.依附于别人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
61
chamber
|
|
| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
62
chambers
|
|
| n.房间( chamber的名词复数 )；（议会的）议院；卧室；会议厅 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
63
moorish
|
|
| adj.沼地的，荒野的，生[住]在沼地的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
64
resolute
|
|
| adj.坚决的，果敢的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
65
gallows
|
|
| n.绞刑架，绞台 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
66
valiant
|
|
| adj.勇敢的，英勇的；n.勇士，勇敢的人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
67
honourable
|
|
| adj.可敬的；荣誉的，光荣的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
68
retinue
|
|
| n.侍从；随员 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
69
refreshments
|
|
| n.点心,便餐;(会议后的)简单茶点招 待 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
70
vouch
|
|
| v.担保；断定；n.被担保者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
71
adversary
|
|
| adj.敌手，对手 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
72
vouches
|
|
| v.保证( vouch的第三人称单数 )；担保；确定；确定地说 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
73
crave
|
|
| vt.渴望得到，迫切需要，恳求，请求 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
74
hermit
|
|
| n.隐士，修道者；隐居 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
75
entrusted
|
|
| v.委托，托付( entrust的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
76
haughtily
|
|
| adv. 傲慢地, 高傲地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
77
supreme
|
|
| adj.极度的，最重要的；至高的，最高的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
78
intrude
|
|
| vi.闯入；侵入；打扰，侵扰 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
79
esteemed
|
|
| adj.受人尊敬的v.尊敬( esteem的过去式和过去分词 )；敬重；认为；以为 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
80
injustice
|
|
| n.非正义，不公正，不公平，侵犯（别人的）权利 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
81
gentry
|
|
| n.绅士阶级，上层阶级 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
82
ministry
|
|
| n.(政府的)部；牧师 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
83
Moslem
|
|
| n.回教徒，穆罕默德信徒；adj.回教徒的，回教的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
84
squire
|
|
| n.护卫, 侍从, 乡绅 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
85
refreshing
|
|
| adj.使精神振作的，使人清爽的，使人喜欢的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
86
disorder
|
|
| n.紊乱，混乱；骚动，骚乱；疾病，失调 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
87
eventual
|
|
| adj.最后的，结局的，最终的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
88
unwilling
|
|
| adj.不情愿的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
89
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： |
|
|
|
|
90
unwillingness
|
|
| n. 不愿意，不情愿 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
91
abode
|
|
| n.住处，住所 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
92
disposition
|
|
| n.性情，性格；意向，倾向；排列，部署 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
93
mortification
|
|
| n.耻辱，屈辱 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
94
concealed
|
|
| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
95
luxurious
|
|
| adj.精美而昂贵的；豪华的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
96
martyrs
|
|
| n.martyr的复数形式；烈士( martyr的名词复数 )；殉道者；殉教者；乞怜者（向人诉苦以博取同情） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
97
evergreen
|
|
| n.常青树；adj.四季常青的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
98
metaphorical
|
|
| a.隐喻的，比喻的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
99
entirely
|
|
| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
100
breach
|
|
| n.违反，不履行；破裂；vt.冲破，攻破 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
101
ostentation
|
|
| n.夸耀，卖弄 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
102
miserable
|
|
| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
103
boughs
|
|
| 大树枝( bough的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
104
deserted
|
|
| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
105
distinguished
|
|
| adj.卓越的，杰出的，著名的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
106
scorching
|
|
| adj. 灼热的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
107
squires
|
|
| n.地主，乡绅( squire的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
108
solitary
|
|
| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
109
emblem
|
|
| n.象征，标志；徽章 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
110
feudal
|
|
| adj.封建的，封地的，领地的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
111
knightly
|
|
| adj. 骑士般的 adv. 骑士般地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
112
melancholy
|
|
| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
113
crest
|
|
| n.顶点；饰章；羽冠；vt.达到顶点；vi.形成浪尖 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
114
antelope
|
|
| n.羚羊；羚羊皮 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
115
armour
|
|
| （=armor）n.盔甲；装甲部队 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
116
invalid
|
|
| n.病人，伤残人；adj.有病的，伤残的；无效的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
117
betokened
|
|
| v.预示，表示( betoken的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
118
adornment
|
|
| n.装饰；装饰品 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
119
applied
|
|
| adj.应用的；v.应用，适用 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
120
attired
|
|
| adj.穿着整齐的v.使穿上衣服，使穿上盛装( attire的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
121
bonnet
|
|
| n.无边女帽；童帽 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
122
tarnished
|
|
| （通常指金属）（使）失去光泽，（使）变灰暗( tarnish的过去式和过去分词 )； 玷污，败坏 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
123
charcoal
|
|
| n.炭，木炭，生物炭 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
124
props
|
|
| 小道具； 支柱( prop的名词复数 )； 支持者； 道具； （橄榄球中的）支柱前锋 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
125
stifled
|
|
| （使）窒息， （使）窒闷( stifle的过去式和过去分词 )； 镇压，遏制； 堵 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
126
growl
|
|
| v.（狗等）嗥叫，（炮等）轰鸣；n.嗥叫，轰鸣 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
127
abstaining
|
|
| 戒（尤指酒），戒除( abstain的现在分词 )； 弃权（不投票） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
128
propriety
|
|
| n.正当行为；正当；适当 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
129
descended
|
|
| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
130
hue
|
|
| n.色度；色调；样子 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
131
lustre
|
|
| n.光亮，光泽；荣誉 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
132
enveloped
|
|
| v.包围，笼罩，包住( envelop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
133
awe
|
|
| n.敬畏，惊惧；vt.使敬畏，使惊惧 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
134
standing
|
|
| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
135
distress
|
|
| n.苦恼，痛苦，不舒适；不幸；vt.使悲痛 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
136
murmur
|
|
| n.低语，低声的怨言；v.低语，低声而言 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
137
reverence
|
|
| n.敬畏，尊敬，尊严；Reverence:对某些基督教神职人员的尊称；v.尊敬，敬畏，崇敬 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
138
repose
|
|
| v.(使)休息；n.安息 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
139
Amended
|
|
| adj. 修正的 动词amend的过去式和过去分词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
140
decided
|
|
| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
141
slumbers
|
|
| 睡眠，安眠( slumber的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
142
brackish
|
|
| adj.混有盐的；咸的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
143
superstition
|
|
| n.迷信，迷信行为 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
144
awaken
|
|
| vi.醒，觉醒；vt.唤醒，使觉醒，唤起，激起 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
145
deprivation
|
|
| n.匮乏；丧失；夺去，贫困 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
146
minaret
|
|
| n.（回教寺院的）尖塔 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
147
mosque
|
|
| n.清真寺 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
148
converse
|
|
| vi.谈话，谈天，闲聊；adv.相反的，相反 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
149
authoritative
|
|
| adj.有权威的，可相信的；命令式的；官方的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
150
countenance
|
|
| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
151
soliciting
|
|
| v.恳求( solicit的现在分词 )；（指娼妇）拉客；索求；征求 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
152
caress
|
|
| vt./n.爱抚，抚摸 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
153
gratitude
|
|
| adj.感激，感谢 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
154
galloping
|
|
| adj. 飞驰的, 急性的 动词gallop的现在分词形式 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
155
transgressing
|
|
| v.超越( transgress的现在分词 )；越过；违反；违背 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
156
gambols
|
|
| v.蹦跳，跳跃，嬉戏( gambol的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
|
157
frolicsome
|
|
| adj.嬉戏的，闹着玩的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
158
stanch
|
|
| v.止住（血等）；adj.坚固的；坚定的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
159
license
|
|
| n.执照，许可证，特许；v.许可，特许 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
160
trumpet
|
|
| n.喇叭，喇叭声；v.吹喇叭，吹嘘 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
161
folly
|
|
| n.愚笨，愚蠢，蠢事，蠢行，傻话 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
162
ordinance
|
|
| n.法令；条令；条例 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
163
allotted
|
|
| 分配，拨给，摊派( allot的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
164
heartily
|
|
| adv.衷心地，诚恳地，十分，很 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
165
purveyor
|
|
| n.承办商，伙食承办商 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
166
fable
|
|
| n.寓言；童话；神话 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
167
grudge
|
|
| n.不满，怨恨，妒嫉；vt.勉强给，不情愿做 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
168
morsel
|
|
| n.一口，一点点 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
169
outlawed
|
|
| 宣布…为不合法（outlaw的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
171
archer
|
|
| n.射手，弓箭手 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
172
robin
|
|
| n.知更鸟，红襟鸟 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
173
lieutenant
|
|
| n.陆军中尉，海军上尉；代理官员，副职官员 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
174
perilous
|
|
| adj.危险的，冒险的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
175
larder
|
|
| n.食物贮藏室，食品橱 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
176
credentials
|
|
| n.证明，资格，证明书，证件 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |