She liked best the society of the younger men, for even when they were not in love with her, they would show her the most delicate attention and say the prettiest things with a courtly deference5 that quite raised her in her own estimation,—though to be sure it was tiresome6 when she found that they did it chiefly to keep in practice. Some of the older gentlemen were simply intolerable with their fulsome7 compliments and their mock gallantry, but the married women were worst of all, especially the brides. The encouraging, though a bit preoccupied8 glance, the slight condescending9 nod with head to one side, and the smile—half pitying, half jeering—with which they would listen to her—it was insulting! Moreover, the conduct of the - 99 - girls themselves was not of a kind to raise their position. They would never stand together, but if one could humiliate11 another, she was only too glad to do so. They had no idea of surrounding themselves with an air of dignity by attending to the forms of polite society the way the young married women did.
Her position was not enviable, and when Mistress Rigitze let fall a few words to the effect that she and other members of the family had been considering a match between Marie and Ulrik Frederik, she received the news with joy. Though Ulrik Frederik had not taken her fancy captive, a marriage with him opened a wide vista12 of pleasant possibilities. When all the honors and advantages had been described to her—how she would be admitted into the inner court circle, the splendor13 in which she would live, the beaten track to fame and high position that lay before Ulrik Frederik as the natural son and even more as the especial favorite of the King,—while she made a mental note of how handsome he was, how courtly, and how much in love,—it seemed that such happiness was almost too great to be possible, and her heart sank at the thought that, after all, it was nothing but loose talk, schemes, and hopes.
Yet Mistress Rigitze was building on firm ground, for not only had Ulrik Frederik confided14 in her and begged her to be his spokesman with Marie, but he had induced her to sound the gracious pleasure of the King and Queen, and they had both received the idea very kindly15 and had given their consent, although the King had felt some hesitation16 to begin with. The match had, in fact, been settled long since by the Queen and her trusted friend and chief gentlewoman, Mistress Rigitze, but the King was not moved only by the persuasions17 of his consort18. He knew - 100 - that Marie Grubbe would bring her husband a considerable fortune, and although Ulrik Frederik held Vordingborg in fief, his love of pomp and luxury made constant demands upon the King, who was always hard pressed for money. Upon her marriage Marie would come into possession of her inheritance from her dead mother, Mistress Marie Juul, while her father, Erik Grubbe, was at that time owner of the manors19 of Tjele, Vinge, Gammelgaard, Bigum, Trinderup, and N?rb?k, besides various scattered20 holdings. He was known as a shrewd manager who wasted nothing, and would no doubt leave his daughter a large fortune. So all was well. Ulrik Frederik could go courting without more ado, and a week after midsummer their betrothal21 was solemnized.
Ulrik Frederik was very much in love, but not with the stormy infatuation he had felt when Sofie Urne ruled his heart. It was a pensive22, amorous23, almost wistful sentiment, rather than a fresh, ruddy passion. Marie had told him the story of her dreary25 childhood, and he liked to picture to himself her sufferings with something of the voluptuous26 pity that thrills a young monk27 when he fancies the beautiful white body of the female martyr28 bleeding on the sharp spikes29 of the torture-wheel. Sometimes he would be troubled with dark forebodings that an early death might tear her from his arms. Then he would vow30 to himself with great oaths that he would bear her in his hands and keep every poisonous breath from her, that he would lead the light of every gold-shining mood into her young heart and never, never grieve her.
Yet there were other times when he exulted31 at the thought that all this rich beauty, this strange, wonderful soul were given into his power as the soul of a dead man - 101 - into the hands of God, to grind in the dust if he liked, to raise up when he pleased, to crush down, to bend.
It was partly Marie’s own fault that such thoughts could rise in him, for her love, if she did love, was of a strangely proud, almost insolent32 nature. It would be but a halting image to say that her love for the late Ulrik Christian33 had been like a lake whipped and tumbled by a storm, while her love for Ulrik Frederik was the same water in the evening, becalmed, cold, and glassy, stirred but by the breaking of frothy bubbles among the dark reeds of the shore. Yet the simile34 would have some truth, for not only was she cold and calm toward her lover, but the bright myriad35 dreams of life that thronged36 in the wake of her first passion had paled and dissolved in the drowsy37 calm of her present feeling.
She loved Ulrik Frederik after a fashion, but might it not be chiefly as the magic wand opening the portals to the magnificent pageant38 of life, and might it not be the pageant that she really loved? Sometimes it would seem otherwise. When she sat on his knee in the twilight39 and sang little airs about Daphne and Amaryllis to her own accompaniment, the song would die away, and while her fingers played with the strings40 of the cithern, she would whisper in his waiting ear words so sweet and warm that no true love owns them sweeter, and there were tender tears in her eyes that could be only the dew of love’s timid unrest. And yet—might it not be that her longing41 was conjuring42 up a mere43 mood, rooted in the memories of her past feeling, sheltered by the brooding darkness, fed by hot blood and soft music,—a mood that deceived herself and made him happy? Or was it nothing but maidenly44 shyness that made her chary45 of endearments46 by the light of day, and was it nothing but - 102 - girlish fear of showing a girl’s weakness that made her eyes mock and her lips jeer10 many a time when he asked for a kiss or, vowing47 love, would draw from her the words all lovers long to hear? Why was it, then, that when she was alone, and her imagination had wearied of picturing for the thousandth time the glories of the future, she would often sit gazing straight before her hopelessly, and feel unutterably lonely and forsaken49?
In the early afternoon of an August day Marie and Ulrik Frederik were riding, as often before, along the sandy road that skirted the Sound beyond East Gate. The air was fresh after a morning shower, the sun stood mirrored in the water, and blue thunder-clouds were rolling away in the distance.
They cantered as quickly as the road would allow them, a lackey50 in a long crimson51 coat following closely. They rode past the gardens where green apples shone under dark leaves, past fish-nets hung to dry with the raindrops still glistening52 in their meshes53, past the King’s fisheries with red-tiled roof, and past the glue-boiler’s house, where the smoke rose straight as a column out of a chimney. They jested and laughed, smiled and laughed, and galloped54 on.
At the sign of the Golden Grove55 they turned and rode through the woods toward Overdrup, then walked their horses through the underbrush down to the bright surface of the lake. Tall beeches56 leaned to mirror their green vault57 in the clear water. Succulent marsh-grass and pale pink feather-foil made a wide motley border where the slope, brown with autumn leaves, met the water. High in the shelter of the foliage58, in a ray of light that pierced the cool shadow, mosquitoes whirled in a noiseless swarm59. A red butterfly gleamed there for a second, then flew out into the - 103 - sunlight over the lake. Steel-blue dragon-flies made bright streaks60 through the air, and the darting61 pike drew swift wavy62 lines over the surface of the water. Hens were cackling in the farm-yard beyond the brushwood, and from the other side of the lake came a note of wood-doves cooing under the domes63 of the beech-trees in Dyrehaven.
They slackened their speed and rode out into the water to let their horses dabble64 their dusty hoofs65 and quench66 their thirst. Marie had stopped a little farther out than Ulrik Frederik, and sat with reins67 hanging in order to let her mare69 lower its head freely. She was tearing the leaves from a long branch in her hand, and sent them fluttering down over the water, which was beginning to stir in soft ripples70.
“I think we may get a thunder-storm,” she said, her eyes following the course of a light wind that went whirling over the lake, raising round, dark, roughened spots on the surface.
“Perhaps we had better turn back,” suggested Ulrik Frederik.
“Not for gold!” she answered and suddenly drove her mare to the shore. They walked their horses round the lake to the road and entered the tall woods.
“I would I knew,” said Marie, when she felt the cool air of the forest fan her cheeks and drew in its freshness in long, deep breaths. “I would I knew—” She got no further, but stopped and looked up into the green vault with shining eyes.
“What wouldst thou know, dear heart?”
“I’m thinking there’s something in the forest air that makes sensible folks mad. Many’s the time I have been walking in Bigum woods, when I would keep on running and running, till I got into the very thickest of it. I’d be - 104 - wild with glee and sing at the top of my voice and walk and pick flowers and throw them away again and call to the birds, when they flew up—and then, on the sudden, a strange fright would come over me, and I would feel, oh! so wretched and so small! Whenever a branch broke I’d start, and the sound of my own voice gave me more fright than anything else. Hast thou never felt it?”
Before Ulrik Frederik could answer her song rang out:
“Right merrily in the woods I go Where elm and apple grow, And I pluck me there sweet roses two And deck my silken shoe. Oh, the dance, Oh, the dance, Oh, tra-la-la! Oh, the red, red berries on the dogrose bush!”
and as she sang, the whip flew down over her horse, she laughed, hallooed, and galloped at top speed along a narrow forest path, where the branches swept her shoulders. Her eyes sparkled, her cheeks burned, she did not heed71 Ulrik Frederik calling after her. The whip whizzed through the air again, and off she went with reins slack! Her fluttering habit was flecked with foam72. The soft earth flew up around her horse. She laughed and cut the tall ferns with her whip.
Suddenly the light seemed to be lifted from leaf and branch and to flee from the rain-heavy darkness. The rustling73 of the bushes had ceased, and the hoof-beats were silent, as she rode across a stretch of forest glade74. On either side the trees stood like a dark encircling wall. Ragged75 gray clouds were scudding76 over the black, lowering - 105 - heavens. Before her rolled the murky77 blue waters of the Sound, and beyond rose banks of fog. She drew rein68, and her tired mount stopped willingly. Ulrik Frederik galloped past, swung back in a wide circle, and halted at her side.
At that moment a shower fell like a gray, heavy, wet curtain drawn78 slantwise over the Sound. An icy wind flattened79 the grass, whizzed in their ears, and made a noise like foaming80 waves in the distant tree-tops. Large flat hailstones rattled81 down over them in white sheets, settled like bead82 strings in the folds of her dress, fell in a spray from the horses’ manes, and skipped and rolled in the grass as though swarming83 out of the earth.
They sought shelter under the trees, rode down to the beach, and presently halted before the low door of the Bide-a-Wee Tavern84. A stable-boy took the horses, and the tall, bareheaded inn-keeper showed them into his parlor85, where, he said, there was another guest before them. It proved to be Hop-o’-my-Thumb, who rose at their entrance, offering to give up the room to their highnesses, but Ulrik Frederik graciously bade him remain.
“Stay here, my man,” he said, “and entertain us in this confounded weather. I must tell you, my dear,”—turning to Marie,—“that this insignificant86 mannikin is the renowned87 comedian88 and merry-andrew of ale-houses, Daniel Knopf, well learned in all the liberal arts such as dicing89, fencing, drinking, shrovetide sports, and such matters, otherwise in fair repute as an honorable merchant in the good city of Copenhagen.”
Daniel scarcely heard this eulogy90. He was absorbed in looking at Marie Grubbe and formulating91 some graceful92 words of felicitation, but when Ulrik Frederik roused him - 106 - with a sounding blow on his broad back, his face flushed with resentment93 and embarrassment94. He turned to him angrily, but mastered himself, and said with his coldest smile: “We’re scarce tipsy enough, Colonel.”
Ulrik Frederik laughed and poked95 his side, crying: “Oh, you sacred knave96! Would you put me to confusion, you plaguy devil, and make me out a wretched braggart97 who lacks parchments to prove his boasting? Fie, fie, out upon you! Is that just? Have I not a score of times praised your wit before this noble lady, till she has time and again expressed the greatest longing to see and hear your far-famed drolleries? You might at least give us the blind Cornelius Fowler and his whistling birds, or play the trick—you know—with the sick cock and the clucking hens!”
Marie now added her persuasions, saying that Colonel Gyldenl?ve was quite right, she had often wondered what pastime, what fine and particular sport, could keep young gentlemen in filthy98 ale-houses for half days and whole nights together, and she begged that Daniel would oblige them without further urging.
Daniel bowed with perfect grace and replied that his poor pranks99 were rather of a kind to give fuddled young sparks added occasion for roaring and bawling100 than to amuse a dainty and highborn young maiden3. Nevertheless, he would put on his best speed to do her pleasure, for none should ever say it of him that any command from her fair ladyship had failed of instant obedience101 and execution.
“Look ’ee!” he began, throwing himself down by the table and sticking out his elbows. “Now I’m a whole assembly of your betrothed’s honorable companions and especial good friends.”
He took a handful of silver dollars from his pocket and - 107 - laid them on the table, pulled his hair down over his eyes, and dropped his lower lip stupidly.
“Devil melt me!” he drawled, rattling102 the coins like dice103. “I’m not the eldest104 son of the honorable Erik Kaase for nothing! What! you’d doubt my word, you muckworm? I flung ten, hell consume me, ten with a jingle105! Can’t you see, you dog? I’m asking if you can’t see?—you blind lamprey, you! Or d’ye want me to rip your guts106 with my stinger and give your liver and lungs a chance to see too? Shall I—huh? You ass24!”
Daniel jumped up and pulled a long face.
“You’d challenge me, would you?” he said hoarsely107 with a strong North Skaane accent, “you stinkard, you! D’you know whom you’re challenging? So take me king o’ hell, I’ll strike your—Nay, nay,” he dropped into his natural voice, “that’s perhaps too strong a jest to begin with. Try another!”
He sat down, folded his hands on the edge of his knees as though to make room for his stomach, puffed108 himself up, fat and heavy jowled, then whistled firmly and thoughtfully but in an altogether too slow tempo109 the ballad110 of Roselil and Sir Peter. Then he stopped, rolled his eyes amorously111, and called in fond tones:
“Cockatoo—cockadoodle-doo!” He began to whistle again, but had some difficulty in combining it with an ingratiating smile. “Little sugar-top!” he called, “little honey-dew, come to me, little chuck! P’st! Will it lap wine, little kitty? Lap nice sweet wine from little cruse?”
Again he changed his voice, leaned forward in his chair, winked112 with one eye, and crooked113 his fingers to comb an imaginary beard.
“Now stay here,” he said coaxingly114, “stay here, fair - 108 - Karen; I’ll never forsake48 you, and you must never forsake me,”—his voice grew weepy,—“we’ll never part, my dear, dear heart, never in the world! Silver and gold and honor and glory and precious noble blood—begone! I curse you! Begone! I say. You’re a hundred heavens high above them, the thing of beauty you are! Though they’ve scutcheons and emblems—would that make ’em any better? You’ve got an emblem115, too—the red mark on your white shoulder that Master Anders burned with his hot iron, that’s your coat-of-arms! I spit on my scutcheon to kiss that mark—that’s all I think of scutcheons—that’s all! For there isn’t in all the land of Sj?lland a high-born lady as lovely as you are—is there, huh? No, there isn’t—not a bit of one!”
“That’s—that’s a lie!” he cried in a new voice, jumped up, and shook his fist over the table. “My Mistress Ide, you blockhead, she’s got a shape—as a man may say—she’s got limbs—as a man may say—limbs, I tell you, you slubberdegulleon!”
At this point Daniel was about to let himself fall into the chair again, but at that moment Ulrik Frederik pulled it away, and he rolled on the floor. Ulrik Frederik laughed uproariously, but Marie ran to him with hands outstretched as though to help him up. The little man, half rising on his knees, caught her hand and gazed at her with an expression so full of gratitude116 and devotion that it haunted her for a long time. Presently they rode home, and none of them thought that this chance meeting in the Bide-a-Wee Tavern would lead to anything further.
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1
fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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lavished
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| v.过分给予，滥施( lavish的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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maiden
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| n.少女，处女；adj.未婚的，纯洁的，无经验的 | |
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maidens
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| 处女( maiden的名词复数 )； 少女； 未婚女子； （板球运动）未得分的一轮投球 | |
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deference
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| n.尊重，顺从；敬意 | |
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tiresome
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| adj.令人疲劳的，令人厌倦的 | |
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fulsome
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| adj.可恶的，虚伪的，过分恭维的 | |
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8
preoccupied
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| adj.全神贯注的，入神的；被抢先占有的；心事重重的v.占据（某人）思想，使对…全神贯注，使专心于( preoccupy的过去式) | |
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9
condescending
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| adj.谦逊的,故意屈尊的 | |
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jeer
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| vi.嘲弄，揶揄；vt.奚落；n.嘲笑，讥评 | |
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humiliate
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| v.使羞辱，使丢脸[同]disgrace | |
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vista
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| n.远景，深景，展望，回想 | |
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splendor
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| n.光彩；壮丽，华丽；显赫，辉煌 | |
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confided
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| v.吐露（秘密，心事等）( confide的过去式和过去分词 )；（向某人）吐露（隐私、秘密等） | |
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kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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hesitation
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| n.犹豫，踌躇 | |
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persuasions
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| n.劝说，说服（力）( persuasion的名词复数 )；信仰 | |
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consort
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| v.相伴；结交 | |
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manors
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| n.庄园（manor的复数形式） | |
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scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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betrothal
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| n. 婚约, 订婚 | |
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pensive
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| a.沉思的,哀思的,忧沉的 | |
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amorous
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| adj.多情的；有关爱情的 | |
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ass
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| n.驴；傻瓜，蠢笨的人 | |
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dreary
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| adj.令人沮丧的，沉闷的，单调乏味的 | |
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voluptuous
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| adj.肉欲的，骄奢淫逸的 | |
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monk
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| n.和尚，僧侣，修道士 | |
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martyr
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| n.烈士，殉难者；vt.杀害，折磨，牺牲 | |
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spikes
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| n.穗( spike的名词复数 )；跑鞋；（防滑）鞋钉；尖状物v.加烈酒于( spike的第三人称单数 )；偷偷地给某人的饮料加入（更多）酒精（ 或药物）；把尖状物钉入；打乱某人的计划 | |
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vow
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| n.誓(言)，誓约；v.起誓，立誓 | |
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exulted
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| 狂喜，欢跃( exult的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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insolent
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| adj.傲慢的，无理的 | |
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Christian
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| adj.基督教徒的；n.基督教徒 | |
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simile
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| n.直喻，明喻 | |
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myriad
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| adj.无数的；n.无数，极大数量 | |
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thronged
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| v.成群，挤满( throng的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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drowsy
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| adj.昏昏欲睡的，令人发困的 | |
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pageant
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| n.壮观的游行；露天历史剧 | |
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twilight
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| n.暮光，黄昏；暮年，晚期，衰落时期 | |
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strings
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| n.弦 | |
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longing
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| n.（for）渴望 | |
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conjuring
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| n.魔术 | |
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43
mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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maidenly
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| adj. 像处女的, 谨慎的, 稳静的 | |
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45
chary
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| adj.谨慎的，细心的 | |
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endearments
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| n.表示爱慕的话语，亲热的表示( endearment的名词复数 ) | |
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47
vowing
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| 起誓，发誓（vow的现在分词形式） | |
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48
forsake
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| vt.遗弃，抛弃；舍弃，放弃 | |
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Forsaken
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| adj. 被遗忘的, 被抛弃的 动词forsake的过去分词 | |
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50
lackey
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| n.侍从；跟班 | |
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51
crimson
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| n./adj.深(绯)红色(的)；vi.脸变绯红色 | |
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52
glistening
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| adj.闪耀的，反光的v.湿物闪耀，闪亮( glisten的现在分词 ) | |
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53
meshes
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| 网孔( mesh的名词复数 )； 网状物； 陷阱； 困境 | |
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54
galloped
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| （使马）飞奔，奔驰( gallop的过去式和过去分词 )； 快速做[说]某事 | |
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55
grove
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| n.林子，小树林，园林 | |
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56
beeches
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| n.山毛榉( beech的名词复数 )；山毛榉木材 | |
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57
vault
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| n.拱形圆顶，地窖，地下室 | |
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58
foliage
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| n.叶子，树叶，簇叶 | |
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swarm
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| n.(昆虫)等一大群；vi.成群飞舞；蜂拥而入 | |
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streaks
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| n.（与周围有所不同的）条纹( streak的名词复数 )；（通常指不好的）特征（倾向）；（不断经历成功或失败的）一段时期v.快速移动( streak的第三人称单数 )；使布满条纹 | |
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darting
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| v.投掷，投射( dart的现在分词 )；向前冲，飞奔 | |
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wavy
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| adj.有波浪的，多浪的，波浪状的，波动的，不稳定的 | |
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63
domes
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| n.圆屋顶( dome的名词复数 )；像圆屋顶一样的东西；圆顶体育场 | |
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64
dabble
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| v.涉足，浅赏 | |
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65
hoofs
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| n.（兽的）蹄，马蹄( hoof的名词复数 )v.（兽的）蹄，马蹄( hoof的第三人称单数 ) | |
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66
quench
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| vt.熄灭，扑灭；压制 | |
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reins
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| 感情，激情； 缰( rein的名词复数 )； 控制手段； 掌管； （成人带着幼儿走路以防其走失时用的）保护带 | |
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rein
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| n.疆绳，统治，支配；vt.以僵绳控制，统治 | |
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69
mare
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| n.母马，母驴 | |
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70
ripples
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| 逐渐扩散的感觉( ripple的名词复数 ) | |
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71
heed
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| v.注意，留意；n.注意，留心 | |
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72
foam
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| v./n.泡沫，起泡沫 | |
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73
rustling
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| n. 瑟瑟声，沙沙声 adj. 发沙沙声的 | |
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74
glade
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| n.林间空地，一片表面有草的沼泽低地 | |
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75
ragged
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| adj.衣衫褴褛的，粗糙的，刺耳的 | |
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76
scudding
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| n.刮面v.（尤指船、舰或云彩）笔直、高速而平稳地移动( scud的现在分词 ) | |
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murky
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| adj.黑暗的，朦胧的；adv.阴暗地，混浊地；n.阴暗；昏暗 | |
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78
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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flattened
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| [医]（水）平扁的，弄平的 | |
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foaming
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| adj.布满泡沫的；发泡 | |
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81
rattled
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| 慌乱的，恼火的 | |
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82
bead
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| n.念珠；(pl.)珠子项链；水珠 | |
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83
swarming
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| 密集( swarm的现在分词 )； 云集； 成群地移动； 蜜蜂或其他飞行昆虫成群地飞来飞去 | |
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84
tavern
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| n.小旅馆，客栈；小酒店 | |
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85
parlor
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| n.店铺，营业室；会客室，客厅 | |
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insignificant
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| adj.无关紧要的，可忽略的，无意义的 | |
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renowned
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| adj.著名的，有名望的，声誉鹊起的 | |
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comedian
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| n.喜剧演员；滑稽演员 | |
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89
dicing
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| n.掷骰子，（皮革上的）菱形装饰v.将…切成小方块，切成丁（ dice的现在分词 ） | |
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90
eulogy
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| n.颂词；颂扬 | |
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formulating
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| v.构想出( formulate的现在分词 )；规划；确切地阐述；用公式表示 | |
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graceful
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| adj.优美的，优雅的；得体的 | |
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resentment
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| n.怨愤，忿恨 | |
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embarrassment
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| n.尴尬；使人为难的人(事物)；障碍；窘迫 | |
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poked
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| v.伸出( poke的过去式和过去分词 )；戳出；拨弄；与（某人）性交 | |
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knave
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| n.流氓；（纸牌中的）杰克 | |
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braggart
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| n.吹牛者；adj.吹牛的，自夸的 | |
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filthy
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| adj.卑劣的；恶劣的，肮脏的 | |
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99
pranks
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| n.玩笑，恶作剧( prank的名词复数 ) | |
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100
bawling
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| v.大叫，大喊( bawl的现在分词 )；放声大哭；大声叫出；叫卖（货物） | |
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101
obedience
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| n.服从，顺从 | |
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102
rattling
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| adj. 格格作响的, 活泼的, 很好的 adv. 极其, 很, 非常 动词rattle的现在分词 | |
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103
dice
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| n.骰子；vt.把（食物）切成小方块，冒险 | |
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104
eldest
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| adj.最年长的，最年老的 | |
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105
jingle
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| n.叮当声，韵律简单的诗句；v.使叮当作响，叮当响，押韵 | |
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106
guts
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| v.狼吞虎咽，贪婪地吃，飞碟游戏（比赛双方每组5人，相距15码，互相掷接飞碟）；毁坏（建筑物等）的内部( gut的第三人称单数 )；取出…的内脏n.勇气( gut的名词复数 )；内脏；消化道的下段；肠 | |
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107
hoarsely
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| adv.嘶哑地 | |
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108
puffed
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| adj.疏松的v.使喷出( puff的过去式和过去分词 )；喷着汽（或烟）移动；吹嘘；吹捧 | |
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109
tempo
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| n.(音乐的)速度；节奏，行进速度 | |
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110
ballad
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| n.歌谣，民谣，流行爱情歌曲 | |
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111
amorously
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| adv.好色地，妖艳地；脉；脉脉；眽眽 | |
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112
winked
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| v.使眼色( wink的过去式和过去分词 )；递眼色（表示友好或高兴等）；（指光）闪烁；闪亮 | |
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113
crooked
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| adj.弯曲的；不诚实的，狡猾的，不正当的 | |
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114
coaxingly
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| adv. 以巧言诱哄，以甘言哄骗 | |
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115
emblem
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| n.象征，标志；徽章 | |
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116
gratitude
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| adj.感激，感谢 | |
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