[*] So called from the Service Tree, or Serb Apple Tree, which grows in profusion1 all round the village, and to distinguish it from St Aubin d'Audigné nearer Rennes.
The grey mists of early morn were clinging to the dank earth when Ralph awoke after such snatches of sleep as he could get amid the noise of that large body of ill-assorted men.
It was Sunday morning, the 27th of July--a day Ralph well remembered, for it was this very day a year ago he had left his father's house to seek his fortune in the household of the Captain of the Wight. What events had taken place since then! He thought of it all, and his heart beat as he turned to look over the leafy woods, the steep slopes of the hilly country, with its fresh valleys, whence, amid the rich foliage2 of orchard3 and copse and wide-reaching forest, the spires4 of the village churches and the steep gables of nestling farm-houses rose above the steaming verdure, or peeped out in shy suggestion. The birds were warbling blithely5 all around. There was a tinkle6 of distant bells, a hum of awakening7 life, and the soft, warm fragrance8 of a midsummer night still floated in the balmy morning air.
Ralph could not believe that in another few hours he and all that host of lusty, careless men would be fighting for fame and name, and very life itself. He had only twice had experience of the fierce struggle of deadly fight. But his whole training had accustomed him to it, and he gave little thought to the battle. But the deep bells from a neighbouring monastery9 stirred softer thoughts. He thought of his mother and father, of Thruxton Manor10 away over the sea, and then of his cousin Yolande and his promise.
But the trumpets11 sounding the réveille interrupted all softer thoughts. The reality of life had begun.
"Well, Ralph, my boy," said the cheerful voice of Dicky Cheke, "'tis a fine morning for our sport. Marry, I trust you and I will win our spurs to-day. But come to breakfast. There's a right pleasant smell of fried eggs and bacon over yonder, and thy man Humphrey hath gotten a rare fat capon out of some farm hard by. I've asked young De Rohan to come and share with us, 'twill improve thy French; only he talks it with such a sad Breton accent I fear me he will mar12 my fine tongue. But come along--there he is."
Ralph sauntered back with Dicky. The four boys were soon laughing and talking over their breakfast. The young Seigneur de Rohan was a merry addition to their party, and kept them in constant laughter by his attempts to talk English.
By eight o'clock orders came from the Duke of Orleans for their division to prepare to march. There had been a very stormy council of war, and the suspicions of the Breton infantry15 were so strong, that to quiet them it was arranged that the Duke of Orleans and the Prince of Orange should dismount and fight on foot among the pikemen, a very dangerous service, and one which showed their courage in the highest degree. But the jealousies16 between the infantry and cavalry17 had reached such a high pitch, that it required very strenuous18 exertions19 to prevent the former marching off the ground; the Bretons affirming that the French princes only used them to make cat's-paws of them.
Young De Rohan astonished the pages by saying that seventeen hundred of the Breton infantry were going to wear the same uniform as the men of the Wight, in order to make the French think there were more English than there were. This was a great compliment, and rejoiced Dicky's heart, for he knew how much more important the Captain of the Wight would be if he commanded two thousand instead of four hundred men.
In another hour the whole army was equipped and marching to its position to the right of a vast forest, the Forêt de la Seve, and there was already promise of the great heat the coming noon would bring. The bells of Orange were sounding for morning service, and the faint tinkle of the other village bells could be heard over the forest and hills. A deep blue sky spread overhead, and a mellow20 haze21 floated over the horizon. There was scarcely a breath of air, and the banner of the Captain of the Wight hung in white and crimson22 folds down its gilded23 shaft24.
The men of the Wight were now drawn25 up--the men-at-arms on the right, the infantry in the centre, and the mounted archers26 on the left. All were completely armed, and they had now become a thoroughly28 well-disciplined, splendid body of men, typical of the British army--"The best in the world, if only there were more of them." The Captain of the Wight, mounted on his black charger, armed like himself in full plate-armour29, rode in front of the line, and glanced down it with martial30 pride. Only a few words he said, but they were fiery31, knightly32, encouraging words, such as a brave leader and chivalrous34 knight33 knew how to say. He told them of the compliment the Duke of Orleans was paying them in reinforcing them with seventeen hundred Breton foot all clad to look like Englishmen. He reminded them of Crecy, Poictiers, and Agincourt. He bid them think that the eyes of England, of France, and of their own dear island home were upon them; and he bid them fight as became the ancient valour of their name and race. Their quarrel was a just one, and their foe35 the natural enemy of their hearths36 and homes.
"Men of Yaverland and Brading, remember Sir Theobold Russel, and how he died for you. Men of Newport, remember Deadman's Lane and Neddie's Hill. Men of Yarmouth and Newtown, remember your burning homes and ruined boroughs37. Men of the Wight, you are here to show your manhood, your skill, and your hardihood; that Frenchmen may see and feel how vain are their vapourings, how keen are our swords. And here before you all, in the glorious light of that splendid sun, I draw my blade, vowing38 never more to sheath it till the victory is won, or my hand can hold it no more."
As the Captain of the Wight spoke39, his sword-blade flashed in the sun, while he held it aloft over his crested40 helm.
A ringing cheer answered these stirring words, and Dicky Cheke murmured to Ralph,--
"In sooth, he is a hero, this Captain of ours, and I am sorry for the French. We won't be too hard on them, Ralph. I sha'n't ask for more than a couple of thousand crowns for my prisoners, unless I take the Sire de la Trimouille himself, and then, as it won't do to spoil the market, I must make him pay a good round sum--perchance fifty thousand pistoles, or so; only I will let him off the last ten if he pays up well;" and Dicky Cheke became quite pensive42 as he thought how he would spend his money, and bumped against Sir John Trenchard, who had ridden down the line with the Captain to inspect the men.
And now the Breton infantry marched up, all clad alike, and the eye of their commander kindled43 as he welcomed them to his battalion44.
"They are sturdy little fellows," said Dicky, surveying them with a critical air. "But they want beef; they haven't got our breadth of chest and length of limb."
"You atom, you imp13, you," said Maurice Woodville, "when will you be done with your coxcombery? Why, they are all big enough to eat you, boots and all."
"Now, Maurice, none o' your sauce. You've never been the same varlet since you fell into the mud at St Malo, when you were so frightened by the old cherry woman from whom you filched45 those cherries."
Maurice was going to give Dicky a cuff46, only Sir John Trenchard happened to look round, and he drew in his hand again, muttering, "I'll give it you afterwards; you look out this evening."
But all further talk was put an end to by the arrival of the Marechal de Rieux, an old and experienced warrior48, who had lately had his castle and town of Ancenix burned to the ground by the French, and who was eager to revenge himself upon his enemies. He saluted49 the Captain of the Wight and his division, and briefly50 exchanged a few words with the former. After which Lord Woodville turned to his escort and said with satisfaction,--
"We have been paid one more courtesy. We are to be the vanguard of the army, and the very puissant51 knight the Comte de Rieux is to lead us."
The order to march now came, and the whole division broke into column, and took the road to St Aubin, the old Marshal and the Captain of the Wight with drawn sword riding at their head.
After marching some three miles, and when the houses of St Aubin du Cormier were just visible over the orchards52, they came to a highroad which their road intersected. Here a halt was called, and the men were allowed to refresh themselves. The heat was getting very oppressive.
Ralph and Dicky Cheke wandered off to see the rest of the army come up.
"Oh, I wish I had put a cabbage leaf inside my helmet," groaned53 Dicky. "I shall be roasted like a chestnut55 inside its coat. I'm stewing56 in my own juice--oh!"
"'Tis a lucky chance we are wearing tabards; look at those men-at-arms riding with my Lord d'Albret; they must needs be grilled57. They've neither lambrequin nor surcoat, and shine in the sun like fresh-caught mackerel," answered Ralph.
"What a fine lot they all look! and look at those Allemaynes! I do like those swash-bucklering varlets. Certes we are a fine show! I get more and more pitiful when I think of those jackanapes of Frenchmen yonder. If only they knew it, how much better it would be, and what a lot of waste of moist humours it would save, if they just came in and sorted themselves out among us. What a comfort it would be! Ugh! how parlous58 moist I am!"
"Look, Dicky, at those coleuvrines and dragons! I am all agog59 to see them fire; we've a right plentiful60 store of artillery61, I trow!" said Ralph. "Not but what I don't believe our archers are worth a hundred of them, and more, too; but we shall see. Oh, I wish they would begin. Where are the French, I marvel62. Look, our men are falling in; let's hasten back. There's something going on."
And so there seemed. The English division, forming, with some Breton men-at-arms and the seventeen hundred infantry, the vanguard of the army, was standing63 to its arms. The cavalry were mounting, and a body of mounted archers was thrown forward under Tom o' Kingston.
The rest of the army had come up, and the main battle, or middle ward47, as it was called, under the Lord d'Albret, in which was the fine body of Swiss infantry, conspicuous64 among whom were the Duke of Orleans and the Prince of Orange, was drawn up to support the vanguard.
The rear ward was commanded by the Comte de Chauteaubriand, whose castle had also been lately razed65 to the ground by the army of Charles VIII. The artillery was brought up and placed upon the flanks of the vanguard, and a small body of mounted archers was drawn up in support of the clumsy cannon66.
As the two boys rode back to their lord, they could see the general disposition67 of the army, and their hearts beat high with pride and excitement.
"This is something like!" said Dicky. "They'll think great things of us at home when I tell them. I would give a crown our old varlet, Nick Goodall, saw me here. He'd never say I wasn't good for much again. Ah! and I wish that saucy68 little wench who called me a tom-tit could just see me too. Tom-tit, indeed! Tom-tit, quotha!"
When they reached their own division, they saw the mounted archers halted on the brow of the rise in front, and the burly form of Tom o' Kingston sitting his powerful horse, with lance resting on his steel solleret.
The sun was now pouring down its unclouded heat. The divisions of the army were all in battle array at half a bow-shot's length from each other, and were echeloned along the high road from Fougéres to Rennes, with the great wood of La Seve in their rear.
As Ralph, sitting his horse, his cousin Yolande's present, by the side of the Captain of the Wight, turned round to look at the splendid sight behind him, where helm, and crest41, and spear point flashed in the glowing sun, and where the gay banners of the nobles gently fluttered in the light summer air, he heard a whizz, and turned quickly round.
"Hullo, Ralph!" said Maurice Woodville, "what's that archer27 tumbled off his horse for? Is he in a swoon from the heat, think you? and look, they're beginning to shoot. Why, it must be the enemy on the other side of the hill."
"We shall know directly. Look, there's old De Rieux going forward, and so are we. Now, Dicky, you'll get your money, look to your lance," said Ralph, as the Captain of the Wight and his esquires put spurs to their horses and rode up to the crest of the hill.
"Ma foi, c'est de l'H?pital, et ses gaillards. Je le connais par14 ses armoiries. Et voila! Gabriel de Monfalzois, c'est lui, a gauche69, le petit, monté sur le grand hacquené. Aha! mon rusé soudard, c'est toi qui a brulé mon chateau," said the Marechal de Rieux, pointing to a squadron of men-at-arms who had halted out of bow-shot in the valley below. Two or three arbalisters had dismounted, and one had advanced within shot, and it was his quarrel which had struck the English archer off his horse; but Ralph was delighted to see a shot from one of their own men, who had also dismounted, take effect on the Frenchman, for he threw up his hands and fell to the ground.
"Who's that?" said Lord Woodville, who had seen the shot. "What! is't thou, David Urry? here's a gold piece for thee for having dropped the first Frenchman to-day."
"Shall we charge them, my lord," said the Captain, turning to the old baron70.
"Mais non, milord, ce n'est rien," replied the tough Marshal.
The vanguard, however, was advanced to the brow of the hill; the cannon were also brought forward, and the enemy retired71.
Another hour of broiling72 heat ensued. The men became restive73. Murmurs74 at this prolonged inaction could be heard on all sides; and here and there the cry so fatal to French arms, and, at the same time so useful to explain their defeats, was heard--"Nous sommes trahis."
At last, about one o'clock, the gleam of lances could be seen among the trees which skirted the road below, and the cloud of dust, which rose above the foliage, told of a moving host.
"They're coming now, Dicky," said Ralph; "we shall soon begin."
"Poor fools!" said Dicky, contemptuously; "I am sorry for them; but, after all, 'tis what we've come for. I shall keep my eye on a knave75 in a good suit of armour, and well mounted, too. None of your scurvy76 beggars for me. And, Ralph, I'll stand you a good supper to-night, if I am not all melted away. Marry, I am hot!"
"Look at the cannon they are bringing up," said Maurice. "Humph! I hope our fellows will knock them over."
"They've brought them near enough. Why ever don't our knaves77 begin? Ah! there they go," added Dicky, as a flash and cloud of smoke flew out, and a loud report followed, causing all the horses of the men-at-arms to prance78 and rear, and unseating several of their riders.
"Well, that did do a parlous deal of harm! there's more off on our side than there is on the other," said Dicky. "But, mercy on us, what a whizz!" he added, ducking his head; "whose head's off, I marvel!" as a round shot came hurtling through the air, without doing any harm, however.
"We'd best retire our men behind the brow of the hill," said Lord Woodville. The division was, therefore, ordered back a few yards, and moved a little to the right, so as to be out of the line of fire.
The artillery duel79 greatly amused the boys, and Dicky longed to dismount and catch one of the iron balls as they came bounding along, until he saw one strike a stout80 Swiss pikeman, and knock him down, where he lay a dreadful sight.
"Certes! I'm glad I thought better of it," said Dicky. "Who'd have thought there was such might in those bumping iron bowls."
"'Tis a game where you'd best not be a ninepin," said Ralph; "but when are we to move? Oh! I am roasted alive! I would I could look over the brow of the hill and see what our artillery is doing. Ah! there goes another. Mercy on us! but it's knocked over four at once--and--ah! 'tis a fearful sight. How they writhe81! Poor wretches82! Look! there's Tom o' Kingston down, and Oglander, and--ah! why don't we charge; they've got our distance. Ah! they've stopped, thank the saints!" and Ralph became calmer as the noise ceased.
"Look, Ralph, there's a smash! Cannon, and master gunner, and all, gone to bits. What a shot!"
But this was the last shot. The smoke blew away, causing Dicky to sniff83 and sputter84 at the smell of the saltpetre.
"Faugh, what a foul85 mixture. Phew! Ah, it's got down my throat. Hullo, what are we up to now? Oh, I see, we're to become footmen. Well, I'd rather be a-horseback. But there, there; it's all one in this roasting heat. Body o' me, I'm swimming in my harness."
But only the Captain of the Wight, and Ralph, with the rest of the esquires, and the Marshal de Rieux, dismounted. Dicky Cheke and Maurice Woodville were ordered to take their lords' horse, with the other animals, to the rear, and bring them back when the fight was over. This was grievous news to the two boys. But there was no help for it, and they retired with a very crestfallen86 air.
The dismounted knights87 and esquires had barely time to get inside the square of pike men when the fluttering pennons of the enemies' men-at-arms could be seen over the brow of the hill.
"Here they come," said Tom o' Kingston, who had had his horse killed under him, but was not otherwise hurt. "Now, my knaves, think what they'll say at home, and let us play the man."
And now the serried88 ranks of the French men-at-arms, their helms well down, the shields before their left arms, and with lances in rest, came cantering over the rise in front.
"Now, archers, let fly your shafts89," cried the Captain of the Wight, and a twanging sound instantly followed, for every archer knew what was coming, and had already put his arrow on the string. The rushing sound which fluttered in the air was succeeded by a splintering crack or dull thud, or heavier groan54, as the shafts flew home. And many a gallant90 man-at-arms fell to the ground in the death sob91. But still fresh ranks came topping the hill, and fierce shouts arose. "A bas les Anglais! Tuez les!" from the steel-clad figures who cantered onward92 in grim resolve.
Some few of the foe would not be refused, and in spite of cloth yard shaft and sturdy pike, pushed home into the first ranks of the square, but only to perish under the daggers93 of the footmen, or be kept as prisoners to be held to ransom94 afterwards.
The bravery of these men-at-arms was very conspicuous. They rode up to the face of the square and thrust fiercely with their long lances at the pikemen, and bodies of two or three would charge at full speed upon the halberds, and then leap their horses over the first ranks. But the men of the Wight stood firm, and although a heavy groan or occasional scream would tell of a deadly wound or ghastly thrust, no opening had been made, and still the grey goose shaft did its deadly and silent work.
"Well done, my merry men," called out the clear voice of the Captain of the Wight. "We will tell of this round many a cheerful yule-tide fire."
But Ralph did not like this way of fighting. He had pictured the battle to himself as a charge of gallant knights, where individual prowess would have a chance of distinction. As yet he had exchanged no blows, and he longed to get out of the stifling95 mass of crowded infantry.
There now came a lull96. The closely thronging97 men-at-arms seemed daunted98 by the bold face of the English footmen. They drew off, and retired behind the brow of the hill, followed by the deadly arrows of the archers.
"Bravo, Messieurs les Anglais," said the deep voice of the tough old Marechal de Rieux. "I vish nevare to be vid more better fantassins. I mak you mes felicitations."
The hill became thick with lances, and a tall and very graceful99 knightly figure could be seen riding amid a press of splendidly armed knights.
"Aha, voila, Monsieur de la Trimouille! C'est un jeune homme tres capable, et un chevalier sans peur et sans reproche. Il est Capitaine pour le Roi, et Vicomte de Thouars. Enfin notre affaire, va commencer!"
The cavalry seemed now to avoid the vanguard, and the men of the Wight had every reason to be proud of themselves. They had driven off the foe, and had made themselves respected. Most of the young men of the Wight thought the victory was won, and exchanged many a merry jest at the expense of the defeated French.
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1
profusion
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| n.挥霍；丰富 | |
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foliage
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| n.叶子，树叶，簇叶 | |
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orchard
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| n.果园，果园里的全部果树，(美俚)棒球场 | |
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spires
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| n.（教堂的） 塔尖，尖顶( spire的名词复数 ) | |
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blithely
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| adv.欢乐地，快活地，无挂虑地 | |
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tinkle
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| vi.叮当作响；n.叮当声 | |
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awakening
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| n.觉醒，醒悟 adj.觉醒中的；唤醒的 | |
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fragrance
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| n.芬芳，香味，香气 | |
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monastery
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| n.修道院，僧院，寺院 | |
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manor
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| n.庄园，领地 | |
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trumpets
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| 喇叭( trumpet的名词复数 )； 小号； 喇叭形物； （尤指）绽开的水仙花 | |
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mar
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| vt.破坏，毁坏，弄糟 | |
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imp
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| n.顽童 | |
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par
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| n.标准，票面价值，平均数量；adj.票面的，平常的，标准的 | |
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infantry
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| n.[总称]步兵(部队) | |
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jealousies
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| n.妒忌( jealousy的名词复数 )；妒羡 | |
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cavalry
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| n.骑兵；轻装甲部队 | |
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strenuous
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| adj.奋发的，使劲的；紧张的；热烈的，狂热的 | |
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exertions
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mellow
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| adj.柔和的；熟透的；v.变柔和；(使)成熟 | |
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haze
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crimson
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gilded
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| a.镀金的，富有的 | |
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shaft
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| n.(工具的)柄，杆状物 | |
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drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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archers
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| n.弓箭手，射箭运动员( archer的名词复数 ) | |
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archer
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thoroughly
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armour
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| （=armor）n.盔甲；装甲部队 | |
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martial
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| adj.战争的，军事的，尚武的，威武的 | |
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fiery
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knightly
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| adj. 骑士般的 adv. 骑士般地 | |
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knight
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| n.骑士，武士；爵士 | |
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chivalrous
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| adj.武士精神的；对女人彬彬有礼的 | |
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foe
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hearths
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| 壁炉前的地板，炉床，壁炉边( hearth的名词复数 ) | |
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boroughs
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| （尤指大伦敦的）行政区( borough的名词复数 )； 议会中有代表的市镇 | |
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vowing
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| 起誓，发誓（vow的现在分词形式） | |
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spoke
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| 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 | |
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crested
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| adj.有顶饰的，有纹章的，有冠毛的v.到达山顶（或浪峰）( crest的过去式和过去分词 )；到达洪峰，达到顶点 | |
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crest
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| n.顶点；饰章；羽冠；vt.达到顶点；vi.形成浪尖 | |
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pensive
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| a.沉思的,哀思的,忧沉的 | |
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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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battalion
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| n.营；部队；大队(的人) | |
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filched
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| v.偷（尤指小的或不贵重的物品）( filch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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cuff
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| n.袖口；手铐；护腕；vt.用手铐铐；上袖口 | |
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47
ward
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| n.守卫，监护，病房，行政区，由监护人或法院保护的人（尤指儿童）；vt.守护，躲开 | |
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warrior
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| n.勇士，武士，斗士 | |
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saluted
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| v.欢迎，致敬( salute的过去式和过去分词 )；赞扬，赞颂 | |
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50
briefly
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| adv.简单地，简短地 | |
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51
puissant
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| adj.强有力的 | |
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52
orchards
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| （通常指围起来的）果园( orchard的名词复数 ) | |
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groaned
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| v.呻吟( groan的过去式和过去分词 )；发牢骚；抱怨；受苦 | |
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54
groan
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| vi./n.呻吟，抱怨；(发出)呻吟般的声音 | |
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55
chestnut
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| n.栗树，栗子 | |
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56
stewing
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| 炖 | |
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57
grilled
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| adj. 烤的, 炙过的, 有格子的 动词grill的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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58
parlous
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| adj.危险的，不确定的，难对付的 | |
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agog
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| adj.兴奋的，有强烈兴趣的； adv.渴望地 | |
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60
plentiful
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| adj.富裕的，丰富的 | |
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61
artillery
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| n.(军)火炮，大炮；炮兵(部队) | |
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62
marvel
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| vi.(at)惊叹vt.感到惊异；n.令人惊异的事 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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conspicuous
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| adj.明眼的，惹人注目的；炫耀的，摆阔气的 | |
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razed
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| v.彻底摧毁，将…夷为平地( raze的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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66
cannon
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| n.大炮，火炮；飞机上的机关炮 | |
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67
disposition
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| n.性情，性格；意向，倾向；排列，部署 | |
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saucy
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| adj.无礼的；俊俏的；活泼的 | |
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gauche
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| adj.笨拙的，粗鲁的 | |
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baron
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| n.男爵；(商业界等)巨头，大王 | |
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retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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broiling
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| adj.酷热的，炽热的，似烧的v.（用火）烤（焙、炙等）( broil的现在分词 )；使卷入争吵；使混乱；被烤（或炙） | |
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restive
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| adj.不安宁的，不安静的 | |
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74
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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75
knave
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| n.流氓；（纸牌中的）杰克 | |
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scurvy
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| adj.下流的，卑鄙的，无礼的；n.坏血病 | |
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knaves
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| n.恶棍，无赖( knave的名词复数 )；（纸牌中的）杰克 | |
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78
prance
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| v.（马）腾跃，(人)神气活现地走 | |
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duel
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| n./v.决斗；(双方的)斗争 | |
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81
writhe
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| vt.挣扎，痛苦地扭曲；vi.扭曲，翻腾，受苦；n.翻腾，苦恼 | |
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82
wretches
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| n.不幸的人( wretch的名词复数 )；可怜的人；恶棍；坏蛋 | |
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83
sniff
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| vi.嗅…味道；抽鼻涕；对嗤之以鼻，蔑视 | |
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84
sputter
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| n.喷溅声；v.喷溅 | |
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85
foul
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| adj.污秽的；邪恶的；v.弄脏；妨害；犯规；n.犯规 | |
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86
crestfallen
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| adj. 挫败的，失望的，沮丧的 | |
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87
knights
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| 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 | |
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88
serried
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| adj.拥挤的；密集的 | |
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89
shafts
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| n.轴( shaft的名词复数 )；（箭、高尔夫球棒等的）杆；通风井；一阵（疼痛、害怕等） | |
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90
gallant
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| adj.英勇的，豪侠的；(向女人)献殷勤的 | |
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91
sob
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| n.空间轨道的轰炸机；呜咽，哭泣 | |
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92
onward
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| adj.向前的，前进的；adv.向前，前进，在先 | |
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93
daggers
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| 匕首，短剑( dagger的名词复数 ) | |
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94
ransom
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| n.赎金，赎身；v.赎回，解救 | |
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95
stifling
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| a.令人窒息的 | |
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96
lull
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| v.使安静，使入睡，缓和，哄骗；n.暂停，间歇 | |
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97
thronging
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| v.成群，挤满( throng的现在分词 ) | |
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98
daunted
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| 使（某人）气馁，威吓( daunt的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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99
graceful
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| adj.优美的，优雅的；得体的 | |
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