OCTOBER 10.
Only to gaze upon her dark eyes is to me a source of happiness! And what grieves me, is, that Albert does not seem so happy as he -- hoped to be -- as I should have been -- if -- I am no friend to these pauses, but here I cannot express it otherwise; and probably I am explicit1 enough.
OCTOBER 12.
Ossian has superseded2 Homer in my heart. To what a world does the illustrious bard3 carry me! To wander over pathless wilds, surrounded by impetuous whirlwinds, where, by the feeble light of the moon, we see the spirits of our ancestors; to hear from the mountain-tops, mid4 the roar of torrents5, their plaintive6 sounds issuing from deep caverns7, and the sorrowful lamentations of a maiden8 who sighs and expires on the mossy tomb of the warrior9 by whom she was adored. I meet this bard with silver hair; he wanders in the valley; he seeks the footsteps of his fathers, and, alas10! he finds only their tombs. Then, contemplating11 the pale moon, as she sinks beneath the waves of the rolling sea, the memory of bygone days strikes the mind of the hero, days when approaching danger invigorated the brave, and the moon shone upon his bark laden12 with spoils, and returning in triumph. When I read in his countenance13 deep sorrow, when I see his dying glory sink exhausted14 into the grave, as he inhales15 new and heart-thrilling delight from his approaching union with his beloved, and he casts a look on the cold earth and the tall grass which is so soon to cover him, and then exclaims, "The traveller will come, -- he will come who has seen my beauty, and he will ask, 'Where is the bard, where is the illustrious son of Fingal?' He will walk over my tomb, and will seek me in vain!" Then, O my friend, I could instantly, like a true and noble knight16, draw my sword, and deliver my prince from the long and painful languor17 of a living death, and dismiss my own soul to follow the demigod whom my hand had set free!
OCTOBER 19.
Alas! the void the fearful void, which I feel in my bosom18! Sometimes I think, if I could only once but once, press her to my heart, this dreadful void would be filled.
OCTOBER 26.
Yes, I feel certain, Wilhelm, and every day I become more certain, that the existence of any being whatever is of very little consequence. A friend of Charlotte's called to see her just now. I withdrew into a neighbouring apartment, and took up a book; but, finding I could not read, I sat down to write. I heard them converse19 in an undertone: they spoke20 upon indifferent topics, and retailed21 the news of the town. One was going to be married; another was ill, very ill, she had a dry cough, her face was growing thinner daily, and she had occasional fits. "N-- is very unwell too," said Charlotte. "His limbs begin to swell22 already," answered the other; and my lively imagination carried me at once to the beds of the infirm. There I see them struggling against death, with all the agonies of pain and horror; and these women, Wilhelm, talk of all this with as much indifference23 as one would mention the death of a stranger. And when I look around the apartment where I now am -- when I see Charlotte's apparel lying before me, and Albert's writings, and all those articles of furniture which are so familiar to me, even to the very inkstand which I am using, -- when I think what I am to this family -- everything. My friends esteem24 me; I often contribute to their happiness, and my heart seems as if it could not beat without them; and yet --- if I were to die, if I were to be summoned from the midst of this circle, would they feel -- or how long would they feel the void which my loss would make in their existence? How long! Yes, such is the frailty25 of man, that even there, where he has the greatest consciousness of his own being, where he makes the strongest and most forcible impression, even in the memory, in the heart, of his beloved, there also he must perish, -- vanish, -- and that quickly.
OCTOBER 27.
I could tear open my bosom with vexation to think how little we are capable of influencing the feelings of each other. No one can communicate to me those sensations of love, joy, rapture26, and delight which I do not naturally possess; and, though my heart may glow with the most lively affection, I cannot make the happiness of one in whom the same warmth is not inherent.
OCTOBER 27: Evening.
I possess so much, but my love for her absorbs it all. I possess so much, but without her I have nothing.
OCTOBER 30.
One hundred times have I been on the point of embracing her. Heavens! what a torment27 it is to see so much loveliness passing and repassing before us, and yet not dare to lay hold of it! And laying hold is the most natural of human instincts. Do not children touch everything they see? And I!
NOVEMBER 3.
Witness, Heaven, how often I lie down in my bed with a wish, and even a hope, that I may never awaken28 again. And in the morning, when I open my eyes, I behold29 the sun once more, and am wretched. If I were whimsical, I might blame the weather, or an acquaintance, or some personal disappointment, for my discontented mind; and then this insupportable load of trouble would not rest entirely31 upon myself. But, alas! I feel it too sadly. I am alone the cause of my own woe32, am I not? Truly, my own bosom contains the source of all my sorrow, as it previously33 contained the source of all my pleasure. Am I not the same being who once enjoyed an excess of happiness, who, at every step, saw paradise open before him, and whose heart was ever expanded toward the whole world? And this heart is now dead, no sentiment can revive it; my eyes are dry; and my senses, no more refreshed by the influence of soft tears, wither34 and consume my brain. I suffer much, for I have lost the only charm of life: that active, sacred power which created worlds around me, -- it is no more. When I look from my window at the distant hills, and behold the morning sun breaking through the mists, and illuminating35 the country around, which is still wrapped in silence, whilst the soft stream winds gently through the willows36, which have shed their leaves; when glorious nature displays all her beauties before me, and her wondrous37 prospects39 are ineffectual to extract one tear of joy from my withered40 heart, I feel that in such a moment I stand like a reprobate41 before heaven, hardened, insensible, and unmoved. Oftentimes do I then bend my knee to the earth, and implore42 God for the blessing43 of tears, as the desponding labourer in some scorching44 climate prays for the dews of heaven to moisten his parched45 corn. But I feel that God does not grant sunshine or rain to our importunate46 entreaties47. And oh, those bygone days, whose memory now torments48 me! why were they so fortunate? Because I then waited with patience for the blessings49 of the Eternal, and received his gifts with the grateful feelings of a thankful heart.
NOVEMBER 8.
Charlotte has reproved me for my excesses, with so much tenderness and goodness! I have lately been in the habit of drinking more wine than heretofore. "Don't do it," she said. "Think of Charlotte!" "Think of you!" I answered; "need you bid me do so? Think of you -- I do not think of you: you are ever before my soul! This very morning I sat on the spot where, a few days ago, you descended50 from the carriage, and--" She immediately changed the subject to prevent me from pursuing it farther. My dear friend, my energies are all prostrated51: she can do with me what she pleases.
NOVEMBER 15.
I thank you, Wilhelm, for your cordial sympathy, for your excellent advice; and I implore you to be quiet. Leave me to my sufferings. In spite of my wretchedness, I have still strength enough for endurance. I revere52 religion -- you know I do. I feel that it can impart strength to the feeble and comfort to the afflicted53, but does it affect all men equally? Consider this vast universe: you will see thousands for whom it has never existed, thousands for whom it will never exist, whether it be preached to them, or not; and must it, then, necessarily exist for me? Does not the Son of God himself say that they are his whom the Father has given to him? Have I been given to him? What if the Father will retain me for himself, as my heart sometimes suggests? I pray you, do not misinterpret this. Do not extract derision from my harmless words. I pour out my whole soul before you. Silence were otherwise preferable to me, but I need not shrink from a subject of which few know more than I do myself. What is the destiny of man, but to fill up the measure of his sufferings, and to drink his allotted54 cup of bitterness? And if that same cup proved bitter to the God of heaven, under a human form, why should I affect a foolish pride, and call it sweet? Why should I be ashamed of shrinking at that fearful moment, when my whole being will tremble between existence and annihilation, when a remembrance of the past, like a flash of lightning, will illuminate55 the dark gulf56 of futurity, when everything shall dissolve around me, and the whole world vanish away? Is not this the voice of a creature oppressed beyond all resource, self-deficient, about to plunge57 into inevitable58 destruction, and groaning59 deeply at its inadequate60 strength, "My God! my God! why hast thou forsaken61 me?" And should I feel ashamed to utter the same expression? Should I not shudder62 at a prospect38 which had its fears, even for him who folds up the heavens like a garment?
NOVEMBER 21.
She does not feel, she does not know, that she is preparing a poison which will destroy us both; and I drink deeply of the draught63 which is to prove my destruction. What mean those looks of kindness with which she often -- often? no, not often, but sometimes, regards me, that complacency with which she hears the involuntary sentiments which frequently escape me, and the tender pity for my sufferings which appears in her countenance?
Yesterday, when I took leave she seized me by the hand, and said, "Adieu, dear Werther." Dear Werther! It was the first time she ever called me dear: the sound sunk deep into my heart. I have repeated it a hundred times; and last night, on going to bed, and talking to myself of various things, I suddenly said, "Good night, dear Werther!" and then could not but laugh at myself.
NOVEMBER 22.
I cannot pray, "Leave her to me !" and yet she often seems to belong to me. I cannot pray, "Give her to me!" for she is another's. In this way I affect mirth over my troubles; and, if I had time, I could compose a whole litany of antitheses64.
NOVEMBER 24.
She is sensible of my sufferings. This morning her look pierced my very soul. I found her alone, and she was silent: she steadfastly65 surveyed me. I no longer saw in her face the charms of beauty or the fire of genius: these had disappeared. But I was affected66 by an expression much more touching67, a look of the deepest sympathy and of the softest pity. Why was I afraid to throw myself at her feet? Why did I not dare to take her in my arms, and answer her by a thousand kisses? She had recourse to her piano for relief, and in a low and sweet voice accompanied the music with delicious sounds. Her lips never appeared so lovely: they seemed but just to open, that they might imbibe68 the sweet tones which issued from the instrument, and return the heavenly vibration69 from her lovely mouth. Oh! who can express my sensations? I was quite overcome, and, bending down, pronounced this vow70: "Beautiful lips, which the angels guard, never will I seek to profane71 your purity with a kiss." And yet, my friend, oh, I wish -- but my heart is darkened by doubt and indecision -- could I but taste felicity, and then die to expiate72 the sin! What sin?
NOVEMBER 26.
Oftentimes I say to myself, "Thou alone art wretched: all other mortals are happy, none are distressed73 like thee!" Then I read a passage in an ancient poet, and I seem to understand my own heart. I have so much to endure! Have men before me ever been so wretched?
NOVEMBER 30.
I shall never be myself again! Wherever I go, some fatality74 occurs to distract me. Even to-day alas -- for our destiny! alas for human nature!
About dinner-time I went to walk by the river-side, for I had no appetite. Everything around seemed gloomy: a cold and damp easterly wind blew from the mountains, and black, heavy clouds spread over the plain. I observed at a distance a man in a tattered75 coat: he was wandering among the rocks, and seemed to be looking for plants. When I approached, he turned round at the noise; and I saw that he had an interesting countenance in which a settled melancholy76, strongly marked by benevolence77, formed the principal feature. His long black hair was divided, and flowed over his shoulders. As his garb78 betokened79 a person of the lower order, I thought he would not take it ill if I inquired about his business; and I therefore asked what he was seeking. He replied, with a deep sigh, that he was looking for flowers, and could find none. "But it is not the season," I observed, with a smile. "Oh, there are so many flowers!" he answered, as he came nearer to me. "In my garden there are roses and honeysuckles of two sorts: one sort was given to me by my father! they grow as plentifully80 as weeds; I have been looking for them these two days, and cannot find them. There are flowers out there, yellow, blue, and red; and that centaury has a very pretty blossom: but I can find none of them." I observed his peculiarity81, and therefore asked him, with an air of indifference, what he intended to do with his flowers. A strange smile overspread his countenance. Holding his finger to his mouth, he expressed a hope that I would not betray him; and he then informed me that he had promised to gather a nosegay for his mistress. "That is right," said I. "Oh!" he replied, "she possesses many other things as well: she is very rich." "And yet," I continued, "she likes your nosegays." "Oh, she has jewels and crowns!" he exclaimed. I asked who she was. "If the states-general would but pay me," he added, "I should be quite another man. Alas! there was a time when I was so happy; but that is past, and I am now--" He raised his swimming eyes to heaven. "And you were happy once?" I observed. "Ah, would I were so still!" was his reply. "I was then as gay and contented30 as a man can be." An old woman, who was coming toward us, now called out, "Henry, Henry! where are you? We have been looking for you everywhere: come to dinner." "Is he your son?" I inquired, as I went toward her. "Yes," she said: "he is my poor, unfortunate son. The Lord has sent me a heavy affliction." I asked whether he had been long in this state. She answered, "He has been as calm as he is at present for about six months. I thank Heaven that he has so far recovered: he was for one whole year quite raving82, and chained down in a madhouse. Now he injures no one, but talks of nothing else than kings and queens. He used to be a very good, quiet youth, and helped to maintain me; he wrote a very fine hand; but all at once he became melancholy, was seized with a violent fever, grew distracted, and is now as you see. If I were only to tell you, sir--" I interrupted her by asking what period it was in which he boasted of having been so happy. "Poor boy!" she exclaimed, with a smile of cormpassion, "he means the time when he was completely deranged83, a time he never ceases to regret, when he was in the madhouse, and unconscious of everything." I was thunderstruck: I placed a piece of money in her hand, and hastened away.
"You were happy!" I exclaimed, as I returned quickly to the town, "'as gay and contented as a man can be!'" God of heaven! and is this the destiny of man? Is he only happy before he has acquired his reason, or after he has lost it? Unfortunate being! And yet I envy your fate: I envy the delusion84 to which you are a victim. You go forth85 with joy to gather flowers for your princess, -- in winter, -- and grieve when you can find none, and cannot understand why they do not grow. But I wander forth without joy, without hope, without design; and I return as I came. You fancy what a man you would be if the states general paid you. Happy mortal, who can ascribe your wretchedness to an earthly cause! You do not know, you do not feel, that in your own distracted heart and disordered brain dwells the source of that unhappiness which all the potentates86 on earth cannot relieve.
Let that man die unconsoled who can deride87 the invalid88 for undertaking89 a journey to distant, healthful springs, where he often finds only a heavier disease and a more painful death, or who can exult90 over the despairing mind of a sinner, who, to obtain peace of conscience and an alleviation91 of misery92, makes a pilgrimage to the Holy Sepulchre. Each laborious93 step which galls94 his wounded feet in rough and untrodden paths pours a drop of balm into his troubled soul, and the journey of many a weary day brings a nightly relief to his anguished95 heart. Will you dare call this enthusiasm, ye crowd of pompous96 declaimers? Enthusiasm! 0 God! thou seest my tears. Thou hast allotted us our portion of misery: must we also have brethren to persecute97 us, to deprive us of our consolation98, of our trust in thee, and in thy love and mercy? For our trust in the virtue99 of the healing root, or in the strength of the vine, what is it else than a belief in thee from whom all that surrounds us derives100 its healing and restoring powers? Father, whom I know not, -- who wert once wont101 to fill my soul, but who now hidest thy face from me, -- call me back to thee; be silent no longer; thy silence shall not delay a soul which thirsts after thee. What man, what father, could be angry with a son for returning to him suddenly, for falling on his neck, and exclaiming, "I am here again, my father! forgive me if I have anticipated my journey, and returned before the appointed time! The world is everywhere the same, -- a scene of labour and pain, of pleasure and reward; but what does it all avail? I am happy only where thou art, and in thy presence am I content to suffer or enjoy." And wouldst thou, heavenly Father, banish102 such a child from thy presence?
收听单词发音 |
1
explicit
|
|
| adj.详述的，明确的；坦率的；显然的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
superseded
|
|
| [医]被代替的，废弃的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
bard
|
|
| n.吟游诗人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
mid
|
|
| adj.中央的，中间的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
torrents
|
|
| n.倾注；奔流( torrent的名词复数 )；急流；爆发；连续不断 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
plaintive
|
|
| adj.可怜的，伤心的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
caverns
|
|
| 大山洞，大洞穴( cavern的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
maiden
|
|
| n.少女，处女；adj.未婚的，纯洁的，无经验的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
warrior
|
|
| n.勇士，武士，斗士 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
alas
|
|
| int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
contemplating
|
|
| 深思，细想，仔细考虑( contemplate的现在分词 )； 注视，凝视； 考虑接受（发生某事的可能性）； 深思熟虑，沉思，苦思冥想 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
laden
|
|
| adj.装满了的；充满了的；负了重担的；苦恼的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
countenance
|
|
| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
exhausted
|
|
| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
inhales
|
|
| v.吸入( inhale的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
knight
|
|
| n.骑士，武士；爵士 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
languor
|
|
| n.无精力，倦怠 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
bosom
|
|
| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
converse
|
|
| vi.谈话，谈天，闲聊；adv.相反的，相反 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
spoke
|
|
| 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 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
retailed
|
|
| vt.零售（retail的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
swell
|
|
| vi.膨胀，肿胀；增长，增强 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
indifference
|
|
| n.不感兴趣，不关心，冷淡，不在乎 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
esteem
|
|
| n.尊敬，尊重；vt.尊重，敬重；把…看作 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
frailty
|
|
| n.脆弱；意志薄弱 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
rapture
|
|
| n.狂喜；全神贯注；着迷；v.使狂喜 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
torment
|
|
| n.折磨；令人痛苦的东西(人)；vt.折磨；纠缠 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
awaken
|
|
| vi.醒，觉醒；vt.唤醒，使觉醒，唤起，激起 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
behold
|
|
| v.看，注视，看到 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
contented
|
|
| adj.满意的，安心的，知足的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
entirely
|
|
| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
woe
|
|
| n.悲哀，苦痛，不幸，困难；int.用来表达悲伤或惊慌 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
previously
|
|
| adv.以前，先前（地） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
wither
|
|
| vt.使凋谢，使衰退，(用眼神气势等)使畏缩；vi.枯萎，衰退，消亡 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
illuminating
|
|
| a.富于启发性的，有助阐明的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
willows
|
|
| n.柳树( willow的名词复数 )；柳木 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
wondrous
|
|
| adj.令人惊奇的，奇妙的；adv.惊人地；异乎寻常地；令人惊叹地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
prospect
|
|
| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
prospects
|
|
| n.希望，前途(恒为复数) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
withered
|
|
| adj. 枯萎的，干瘪的，（人身体的部分器官）因病萎缩的或未发育良好的 动词wither的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
reprobate
|
|
| n.无赖汉；堕落的人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
implore
|
|
| vt.乞求，恳求，哀求 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
blessing
|
|
| n.祈神赐福；祷告；祝福，祝愿 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
scorching
|
|
| adj. 灼热的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
parched
|
|
| adj.焦干的；极渴的；v.（使）焦干 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
importunate
|
|
| adj.强求的；纠缠不休的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
entreaties
|
|
| n.恳求，乞求( entreaty的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
torments
|
|
| （肉体或精神上的）折磨，痛苦( torment的名词复数 )； 造成痛苦的事物[人] | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
blessings
|
|
| n.（上帝的）祝福( blessing的名词复数 )；好事；福分；因祸得福 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
descended
|
|
| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
prostrated
|
|
| v.使俯伏，使拜倒( prostrate的过去式和过去分词 )；（指疾病、天气等）使某人无能为力 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
revere
|
|
| vt.尊崇，崇敬，敬畏 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
afflicted
|
|
| 使受痛苦，折磨( afflict的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
allotted
|
|
| 分配，拨给，摊派( allot的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
illuminate
|
|
| vt.照亮，照明；用灯光装饰；说明，阐释 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
gulf
|
|
| n.海湾；深渊，鸿沟；分歧，隔阂 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
plunge
|
|
| v.跳入，(使)投入，(使)陷入；猛冲 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
58
inevitable
|
|
| adj.不可避免的，必然发生的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
59
groaning
|
|
| adj. 呜咽的, 呻吟的 动词groan的现在分词形式 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
inadequate
|
|
| adj.(for,to)不充足的，不适当的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
61
Forsaken
|
|
| adj. 被遗忘的, 被抛弃的 动词forsake的过去分词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
62
shudder
|
|
| v.战粟，震动，剧烈地摇晃；n.战粟，抖动 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
63
draught
|
|
| n.拉，牵引，拖；一网（饮，吸，阵)；顿服药量，通风；v.起草，设计 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
64
antitheses
|
|
| n.对照，对立的，对比法；对立( antithesis的名词复数 )；对立面；对照；对偶 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
65
steadfastly
|
|
| adv.踏实地，不变地；岿然；坚定不渝 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
66
affected
|
|
| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
67
touching
|
|
| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
68
imbibe
|
|
| v.喝，饮；吸入，吸收 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
69
vibration
|
|
| n.颤动，振动；摆动 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
70
vow
|
|
| n.誓(言)，誓约；v.起誓，立誓 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
71
profane
|
|
| adj.亵神的，亵渎的；vt.亵渎，玷污 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
72
expiate
|
|
| v.抵补，赎罪 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
73
distressed
|
|
| 痛苦的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
74
fatality
|
|
| n.不幸，灾祸，天命 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
75
tattered
|
|
| adj.破旧的，衣衫破的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
76
melancholy
|
|
| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
77
benevolence
|
|
| n.慈悲，捐助 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
78
garb
|
|
| n.服装，装束 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
79
betokened
|
|
| v.预示，表示( betoken的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
80
plentifully
|
|
| adv. 许多地，丰饶地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
81
peculiarity
|
|
| n.独特性，特色；特殊的东西；怪癖 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
82
raving
|
|
| adj.说胡话的；疯狂的，怒吼的；非常漂亮的；令人醉心[痴心]的v.胡言乱语(rave的现在分词)n.胡话；疯话adv.胡言乱语地；疯狂地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
83
deranged
|
|
| adj.疯狂的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
84
delusion
|
|
| n.谬见，欺骗，幻觉，迷惑 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
85
forth
|
|
| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
86
potentates
|
|
| n.君主，统治者( potentate的名词复数 )；有权势的人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
87
deride
|
|
| v.嘲弄，愚弄 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
88
invalid
|
|
| n.病人，伤残人；adj.有病的，伤残的；无效的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
89
undertaking
|
|
| n.保证，许诺，事业 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
90
exult
|
|
| v.狂喜，欢腾；欢欣鼓舞 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
91
alleviation
|
|
| n. 减轻，缓和，解痛物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
92
misery
|
|
| n.痛苦，苦恼，苦难；悲惨的境遇，贫苦 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
93
laborious
|
|
| adj.吃力的，努力的，不流畅 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
94
galls
|
|
| v.使…擦痛( gall的第三人称单数 )；擦伤；烦扰；侮辱 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
95
anguished
|
|
| adj.极其痛苦的v.使极度痛苦(anguish的过去式) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
96
pompous
|
|
| adj.傲慢的，自大的；夸大的；豪华的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
97
persecute
|
|
| vt.迫害，虐待；纠缠，骚扰 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
98
consolation
|
|
| n.安慰，慰问 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
99
virtue
|
|
| n.德行，美德；贞操；优点；功效，效力 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
100
derives
|
|
| v.得到( derive的第三人称单数 )；（从…中）得到获得；源于；（从…中）提取 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
101
wont
|
|
| adj.习惯于；v.习惯；n.习惯 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
102
banish
|
|
| vt.放逐，驱逐；消除，排除 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |