When Isolde—who had even lifted herself and shown her face sooner than was customary, had stared for long insupportable moments while the sailors sang the careless satirical words of their song, “Oh, Irish maid! My winsome10 Irish maid!”—sprang to her feet, crying, “What wight dares insult me?” her great voice seemed to ring through all Munich. “Brang?ne, ho!” she shouted. “Where sail we?”
Brang?ne articulated that bluish stripes were visible in the west, that the ship fast approached the land. When Isolde bore down upon her, demanding in a still more terrible voice, “What land?” neither she nor the audience ever knew whether or not she managed to warble, “Cornwall’s verdant11 strand,” for Styr, barely waiting for the line to finish, towered in the centre of the stage and shrieked12 in tones of loosed fury and prophecy, that not even the golden quality of her voice could soften14:
“Nevermore! To-day nor to-morrow!”
Then the minion15, having given the necessary cue, Isolde hurled16 forth, in tones which seemed to express the gnashing of teeth, her wild regret for those lost arts that would have enabled her to annihilate17 the earth and every hated mortal on it. Discarding the cultivated gestures with which she so subtly suggested repressed power, growing passion, she tossed her arms aloft, and with eyes burning and face convulsed, declaimed in a voice that was strangely like a roar:
“Oh, subtle art of sorcery, awake in me once more power of will! Hark to my bidding, fluttering breezes! Arise and storm in boisterous18 strife19! With furious rage and hurricane’s hurtle, awaken20 the sea from its calm! Rouse up the deep to its devilish deeds. Fling it the prey21 I gladly offer!”
The poverty of Wagner’s literary gift, apart from mere22 word jugglery23, was never so manifest, nor his sublime24 faculty25 of imagining and delineating character in the terms of music; never had singer, not even Styr, rendered any words so unnecessary and sent the purport26 streaming out from her mind, her throat, with such terrific force. More than one in that spellbound audience half expected to see the roof of the opera house come down, at the very least to hear the noise of thunder above the orchestra. When she gasped27: “Air! air! or my heart will choke! Open, open there wide!” the fine ladies in the balkon felt for their smelling-salts. When Brang?ne, having drawn28 aside the curtain, and Isolde, with a face that looked like death set in stone, commanded her to summon Tristan, that Germanic mass of flesh visibly trembled, and he asserted afterward that he had hardly dared to disobey her.
“Go! Order him! And understand it! I, Isolde, do command it!” The tones, growing rough and dark, expressed that the limits of endurance had been reached in a queen holding the power of life and death in her twitching29 hands, and it tried the courage of a mere actor to stand firmly at the helm.
By this time not one in the audience—outside of Italy the most musically receptive in the world, in spite of the sandwiches in their petticoat pockets and their unquenchable thirst—was sitting in a natural position. All were strained forward; all, with what power of thought was left in them, questioning whether the Styr were giving a new and sensational30 rendering31 of Isolde’s character, or if something had occurred to excite her beyond bounds and she were venting32 her anger in the sympathetic r?le. If so, what was it? Could she be in love with the tenor33, she, the great Styr? And had he, the good devoted34 husband, trifled with and flouted35 her? But these speculations36 were barely formulated37 until later, when they were feverishly38 discussing the phenomenon; all were held, thrilled, half fearing that something real and terrible was about to happen before their eyes, vaguely39 apprehensive40 that never again would a stage performance satisfy their deep and persistent41 craving42 for vicarious emotions.
When Isolde rushed to the back of the pavilion and flung herself against the curtain to shriek13 out her curses, she almost swept Brang?ne into the wings, and left but little enthusiasm in that now terrified artist to “throw herself upon Isolde with impetuous tenderness,” to ejaculate admiration43 and consolation44. She, at least, knew that Styr was not deliberately45 giving an intensified46 rendering of the great r?le, but was in a mood to kill somebody. She shivered for her neck; those long working fingers looked like flexible steel.
“Curse him, the villain47! Curses on his head! Vengeance48! Death! Death for both of us!” Styr might have been setting free the pent-up demons49 in the hearts of all the women, good and bad, on the surface of the globe, and perchance those in the audience that had no such blessed means of relief gave a deep unconscious sigh of satisfaction.
When she gloated over the phial containing the death potion, Brang?ne’s apprehensions50 were not quelled51 until she had informed herself that it was really empty, for by this time she was convinced that there was a feud52 to the death between the hochdramatische and the tenor—tremblingly awaiting his cue without.
There was no subtle hypnotic suggestion of death to-night in Styr’s gestures. Her art was no longer under the command of her will, but she radiated death and damnation as Tristan entered, and for years after he told of his conviction that the Todesmotif in the orchestra was his own dirge53, and resigned himself to die as he lifted the fatal goblet54 to his lips. He believed that she had rubbed poison on the rim4, whose very fumes55 would rise and slay56 him even although he forbore to touch it; and his quivering nerves were untranquillized by the knowledge of his innocence57: might she not have loved him long in secret and resented his virtuous58 indifference59? Even when, the love potion working, she rushed into his arms, he said that the hate in her eyes never abated60 for a second and he expected her to bite or strangle him.
But at last the act, with its insupportable excitement, was over, and the audience, almost hysterical61, forgot their accustomed refreshment62 as they stood by their seats or paced the foyer, discussing the extraordinary performance and wishing their King were present. They could arrive at no conclusion save that Styr was the greatest actress even Germany had ever seen, whether something had happened to put her into an awful temper or not.
In the second act, there being no opportunity to express either hatred63 or fury, it would seem that Styr was bent64 upon demonstrating that the artist in her could not long be submerged by any turmoil65 in the woman. Never had she sung her part in the love duet with a more poignant66 sweetness, a more perishing languor67, although she would not permit the tenor to come within a foot of her. She did not rise to real greatness, however, until the third act, when, in the last lines of the Liebestod, she stood with rigid68 body and strained upraised face, every line in both, every round noble vibrant69 tone, expressing the savage70 exultation71 of that tormented spirit at the approach of death. As she sank upon Tristan, who had one eye open, King Mark and his men watched her narrowly, for everybody on the stage was uneasy, half fearing that this terrifying creature, always an alien in their midst, but awaited the final moment to wreak72 her vengeance. When the tenor reached his stuffy73 ugly little flat that night he overwhelmed his Frau with caresses74, and sat until nearly morning eating and drinking, the happiest man in Munich.
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1
forth
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adv.向前;向外,往外 | |
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tormented
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饱受折磨的 | |
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primal
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adj.原始的;最重要的 | |
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rim
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n.(圆物的)边,轮缘;边界 | |
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devastating
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adj.毁灭性的,令人震惊的,强有力的 | |
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emanated
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v.从…处传出,传出( emanate的过去式和过去分词 );产生,表现,显示 | |
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fixed
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adj.固定的,不变的,准备好的;(计算机)固定的 | |
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leash
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n.牵狗的皮带,束缚;v.用皮带系住 | |
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afterward
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adv.后来;以后 | |
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winsome
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n.迷人的,漂亮的 | |
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verdant
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adj.翠绿的,青翠的,生疏的,不老练的 | |
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shrieked
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v.尖叫( shriek的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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shriek
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v./n.尖叫,叫喊 | |
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soften
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v.(使)变柔软;(使)变柔和 | |
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minion
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n.宠仆;宠爱之人 | |
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hurled
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v.猛投,用力掷( hurl的过去式和过去分词 );大声叫骂 | |
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annihilate
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v.使无效;毁灭;取消 | |
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boisterous
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adj.喧闹的,欢闹的 | |
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strife
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n.争吵,冲突,倾轧,竞争 | |
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awaken
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vi.醒,觉醒;vt.唤醒,使觉醒,唤起,激起 | |
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prey
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n.被掠食者,牺牲者,掠食;v.捕食,掠夺,折磨 | |
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mere
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adj.纯粹的;仅仅,只不过 | |
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jugglery
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n.杂耍,把戏 | |
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sublime
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adj.崇高的,伟大的;极度的,不顾后果的 | |
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faculty
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n.才能;学院,系;(学院或系的)全体教学人员 | |
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purport
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n.意义,要旨,大要;v.意味著,做为...要旨,要领是... | |
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gasped
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v.喘气( gasp的过去式和过去分词 );喘息;倒抽气;很想要 | |
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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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twitching
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n.颤搐 | |
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sensational
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adj.使人感动的,非常好的,轰动的,耸人听闻的 | |
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rendering
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n.表现,描写 | |
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venting
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消除; 泄去; 排去; 通风 | |
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tenor
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n.男高音(歌手),次中音(乐器),要旨,大意 | |
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devoted
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adj.忠诚的,忠实的,热心的,献身于...的 | |
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flouted
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v.藐视,轻视( flout的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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speculations
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n.投机买卖( speculation的名词复数 );思考;投机活动;推断 | |
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formulated
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v.构想出( formulate的过去式和过去分词 );规划;确切地阐述;用公式表示 | |
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38
feverishly
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adv. 兴奋地 | |
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vaguely
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adv.含糊地,暖昧地 | |
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apprehensive
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adj.担心的,恐惧的,善于领会的 | |
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persistent
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adj.坚持不懈的,执意的;持续的 | |
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craving
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n.渴望,热望 | |
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admiration
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n.钦佩,赞美,羡慕 | |
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consolation
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n.安慰,慰问 | |
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deliberately
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adv.审慎地;蓄意地;故意地 | |
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intensified
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v.(使)增强, (使)加剧( intensify的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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villain
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n.反派演员,反面人物;恶棍;问题的起因 | |
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vengeance
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n.报复,报仇,复仇 | |
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demons
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n.恶人( demon的名词复数 );恶魔;精力过人的人;邪念 | |
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apprehensions
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疑惧 | |
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51
quelled
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v.(用武力)制止,结束,镇压( quell的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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52
feud
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n.长期不和;世仇;v.长期争斗;世代结仇 | |
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53
dirge
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n.哀乐,挽歌,庄重悲哀的乐曲 | |
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goblet
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n.高脚酒杯 | |
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fumes
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n.(强烈而刺激的)气味,气体 | |
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slay
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v.杀死,宰杀,杀戮 | |
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57
innocence
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n.无罪;天真;无害 | |
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virtuous
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adj.有品德的,善良的,贞洁的,有效力的 | |
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indifference
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n.不感兴趣,不关心,冷淡,不在乎 | |
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60
abated
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减少( abate的过去式和过去分词 ); 减去; 降价; 撤消(诉讼) | |
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61
hysterical
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adj.情绪异常激动的,歇斯底里般的 | |
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refreshment
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n.恢复,精神爽快,提神之事物;(复数)refreshments:点心,茶点 | |
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63
hatred
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n.憎恶,憎恨,仇恨 | |
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64
bent
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n.爱好,癖好;adj.弯的;决心的,一心的 | |
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turmoil
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n.骚乱,混乱,动乱 | |
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poignant
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adj.令人痛苦的,辛酸的,惨痛的 | |
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languor
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n.无精力,倦怠 | |
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rigid
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adj.严格的,死板的;刚硬的,僵硬的 | |
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vibrant
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adj.震颤的,响亮的,充满活力的,精力充沛的,(色彩)鲜明的 | |
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savage
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adj.野蛮的;凶恶的,残暴的;n.未开化的人 | |
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exultation
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n.狂喜,得意 | |
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wreak
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v.发泄;报复 | |
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stuffy
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adj.不透气的,闷热的 | |
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caresses
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爱抚,抚摸( caress的名词复数 ) | |
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