TALKING lightly on a thousand matters, the two young men sauntered through the streets; they were now in that quarter which was filled with the gayest shops, their open interiors all and each radiant with the gaudy2 yet harmonious3 colors of frescoes4, inconceivably varied5 in fancy and design. The sparkling fountains, that at every vista6 threw upwards7 their grateful spray in the summer air; the crowd of passengers, or rather loiterers, mostly clad in robes of the Tyrian dye; the gay groups collected round each more attractive shop; the slaves passing to and fro with buckets of bronze, cast in the most graceful8 shapes, and borne upon their heads; the country girls stationed at frequent intervals9 with baskets of blushing fruit, and flowers more alluring10 to the ancient Italians than to their descendants (with whom, indeed, "latet anguis in herba," a disease seems lurking11 in every violet and rose); the numerous haunts which fulfilled with that idle people the office of cafes and clubs at this day; the shops, where on shelves of marble were ranged the vases of wine and oil, and before whose thresholds, seats, protected from the sun by a purple awning12, invited the weary to rest and the indolent to lounge—made a scene of such glowing and vivacious13 excitement, as might well give the Athenian spirit of Glaucus an excuse for its susceptibility to joy.
'Talk to me no more of Rome,' said he to Clodius. 'Pleasure is too stately and ponderous14 in those mighty15 walls: even in the precincts of the court—even in the Golden House of Nero, and the incipient16 glories of the palace of Titus, there is a certain dulness of magnificence—the eye aches—the spirit is wearied; besides, my Clodius, we are discontented when we compare the enormous luxury and wealth of others with the mediocrity of our own state. But here we surrender ourselves easily to pleasure, and we have the brilliancy of luxury without the lassitude of its pomp.'
'It was from that feeling that you chose your summer retreat at Pompeii?'
'It was. I prefer it to Baiae: I grant the charms of the latter, but I love not the pedants17 who resort there, and who seem to weigh out their pleasures by the drachm.'
'Yet you are fond of the learned, too; and as for poetry, why, your house is literally18 eloquent19 with AEschylus and Homer, the epic20 and the drama.'
'Yes, but those Romans who mimic21 my Athenian ancestors do everything so heavily. Even in the chase they make their slaves carry Plato with them; and whenever the boar is lost, out they take their books and their papyrus22, in order not to lose their time too. When the dancing-girls swim before them in all the blandishment of Persian manners, some drone of a freedman, with a face of stone, reads them a section of Cicero "De Officiis". Unskilful pharmacists! pleasure and study are not elements to be thus mixed together, they must be enjoyed separately: the Romans lose both by this pragmatical affectation of refinement23, and prove that they have no souls for either. Oh, my Clodius, how little your countrymen know of the true versatility24 of a Pericles, of the true witcheries of an Aspasia! It was but the other day that I paid a visit to Pliny: he was sitting in his summer-house writing, while an unfortunate slave played on the tibia. His nephew (oh! whip me such philosophical25 coxcombs!) was reading Thucydides' description of the plague, and nodding his conceited26 little head in time to the music, while his lips were repeating all the loathsome27 details of that terrible delineation28. The puppy saw nothing incongruous in learning at the same time a ditty of love and a description of the plague.'
'Why, they are much the same thing,' said Clodius.
'So I told him, in excuse for his coxcombry—but my youth stared me rebukingly29 in the face, without taking the jest, and answered, that it was only the insensate ear that the music pleased, whereas the book (the description of the plague, mind you!) elevated the heart. "Ah!" quoth the fat uncle, wheezing30, "my boy is quite an Athenian, always mixing the utile with the dulce." O Minerva, how I laughed in my sleeve! While I was there, they came to tell the boy-sophist that his favorite freedman was just dead of a fever. "Inexorable death!" cried he; "get me my Horace. How beautifully the sweet poet consoles us for these misfortunes!" Oh, can these men love, my Clodius? Scarcely even with the senses. How rarely a Roman has a heart! He is but the mechanism32 of genius—he wants its bones and flesh.'
Though Clodius was secretly a little sore at these remarks on his countrymen, he affected33 to sympathize with his friend, partly because he was by nature a parasite34, and partly because it was the fashion among the dissolute young Romans to affect a little contempt for the very birth which, in reality, made them so arrogant35; it was the mode to imitate the Greeks, and yet to laugh at their own clumsy imitation.
Thus conversing36, their steps were arrested by a crowd gathered round an open space where three streets met; and, just where the porticoes37 of a light and graceful temple threw their shade, there stood a young girl, with a flower-basket on her right arm, and a small three-stringed instrument of music in the left hand, to whose low and soft tones she was modulating38 a wild and half-barbaric air. At every pause in the music she gracefully39 waved her flower-basket round, inviting40 the loiterers to buy; and many a sesterce was showered into the basket, either in compliment to the music or in compassion41 to the songstress—for she was blind.
'It is my poor Thessalian,' said Glaucus, stopping; 'I have not seen her since my return to Pompeii. Hush42! her voice is sweet; let us listen.'
THE BLIND FLOWER-GIRL'S SONG
I.
Buy my flowers—O buy—I pray!
The blind girl comes from afar;
If the earth be as fair as I hear them say,
These flowers her children are!
Do they her beauty keep?
They are fresh from her lap, I know;
For I caught them fast asleep
In her arms an hour ago.
With the air which is her breath—
Her soft and delicate breath—
Over them murmuring low!
On their lips her sweet kiss lingers yet,
And their cheeks with her tender tears are wet.
For she weeps—that gentle mother weeps—
(As morn and night her watch she keeps,
To see the young things grow so fair;
She weeps—for love she weeps;
And the dews are the tears she weeps
From the well of a mother's love!
II.
Ye have a world of light,
Where love in the loved rejoices;
But the blind girl's home is the House of Night,
And its beings are empty voices.
As one in the realm below,
I feel their soft breath at my side.
And I thirst the loved forms to see,
And I stretch my fond arms around,
And I catch but a shapeless sound,
For the living are ghosts to me.
Come buy—come buy?—
(Hark! how the sweet things sigh
For they have a voice like ours),
`The breath of the blind girl closes
The leaves of the saddening roses—
We are tender, we sons of light,
We shrink from this child of night;
From the grasp of the blind girl free us—
We are for night too gay,
O buy—O buy the flowers!'
'I must have yon bunch of violets, sweet Nydia,' said Glaucus, pressing through the crowd, and dropping a handful of small coins into the basket; 'your voice is more charming than ever.'
The blind girl started forward as she heard the Athenian's voice; then as suddenly paused, while the blood rushed violently over neck, cheek, and temples.
'So you are returned!' said she, in a low voice; and then repeated half to herself, 'Glaucus is returned!'
'Yes, child, I have not been at Pompeii above a few days. My garden wants your care, as before; you will visit it, I trust, to-morrow. And mind, no garlands at my house shall be woven by any hands but those of the pretty Nydia.'
Nydia smiled joyously49, but did not answer; and Glaucus, placing in his breast the violets he had selected, turned gaily50 and carelessly from the crowd.
'So she is a sort of client of yours, this child?' said Clodius.
'Ay—does she not sing prettily51? She interests me, the poor slave! Besides, she is from the land of the Gods' hill—Olympus frowned upon her cradle—she is of Thessaly.'
'The witches' country.'
'True: but for my part I find every woman a witch; and at Pompeii, by Venus! the very air seems to have taken a love-philtre, so handsome does every face without a beard seem in my eyes.'
'And lo! one of the handsomest in Pompeii, old Diomed's daughter, the rich Julia!' said Clodius, as a young lady, her face covered by her veil, and attended by two female slaves, approached them, in her way to the baths.
Julia partly raised her veil, so as with some coquetry to display a bold Roman profile, a full dark bright eye, and a cheek over whose natural olive art shed a fairer and softer rose.
'And Glaucus, too, is returned!' said she, glancing meaningly at the Athenian. 'Has he forgotten,' she added, in a half-whisper, 'his friends of the last year?'
'Beautiful Julia! even Lethe itself, if it disappear in one part of the earth, rises again in another. Jupiter does not allow us ever to forget for more than a moment: but Venus, more harsh still, vouchsafes53 not even a moment's oblivion.'
'Glaucus is never at a loss for fair words.'
'Who is, when the object of them is so fair?'
'We will mark the day in which we visit you with a white stone,' answered the gamester.
Julia dropped her veil, but slowly, so that her last glance rested on the Athenian with affected timidity and real boldness; the glance bespoke55 tenderness and reproach.
The friends passed on.
'Julia is certainly handsome,' said Glaucus.
'And last year you would have made that confession in a warmer tone.'
'True; I was dazzled at the first sight, and mistook for a gem57 that which was but an artful imitation.'
'Nay,' returned Clodius, 'all women are the same at heart. Happy he who weds58 a handsome face and a large dower. What more can he desire?'
Glaucus sighed.
They were now in a street less crowded than the rest, at the end of which they beheld59 that broad and most lovely sea, which upon those delicious coasts seems to have renounced60 its prerogative61 of terror—so soft are the crisping winds that hover62 around its bosom63, so glowing and so various are the hues64 which it takes from the rosy65 clouds, so fragrant66 are the perfumes which the breezes from the land scatter67 over its depths. From such a sea might you well believe that Aphrodite rose to take the empire of the earth.
'It is still early for the bath,' said the Greek, who was the creature of every poetical68 impulse; 'let us wander from the crowded city, and look upon the sea while the noon yet laughs along its billows.'
'With all my heart,' said Clodius; 'and the bay, too, is always the most animated69 part of the city.'
Pompeii was the miniature of the civilization of that age. Within the narrow compass of its walls was contained, as it were, a specimen70 of every gift which luxury offered to power. In its minute but glittering shops, its tiny palaces, its baths, its forum71, its theatre, its circus—in the energy yet corruption72, in the refinement yet the vice73, of its people, you beheld a model of the whole empire. It was a toy, a plaything, a showbox, in which the gods seemed pleased to keep the representation of the great monarchy74 of earth, and which they afterwards hid from time, to give to the wonder of posterity—the moral of the maxim75, that under the sun there is nothing new.
Crowded in the glassy bay were the vessels76 of commerce and the gilded77 galleys78 for the pleasures of the rich citizens. The boats of the fishermen glided79 rapidly to and fro; and afar off you saw the tall masts of the fleet under the command of Pliny. Upon the shore sat a Sicilian who, with vehement80 gestures and flexile features, was narrating81 to a group of fishermen and peasants a strange tale of shipwrecked mariners82 and friendly dolphins—just as at this day, in the modern neighborhood, you may hear upon the Mole83 of Naples.
Drawing his comrade from the crowd, the Greek bent84 his steps towards a solitary85 part of the beach, and the two friends, seated on a small crag which rose amidst the smooth pebbles86, inhaled87 the voluptuous88 and cooling breeze, which dancing over the waters, kept music with its invisible feet. There was, perhaps, something in the scene that invited them to silence and reverie. Clodius, shading his eyes from the burning sky, was calculating the gains of the last week; and the Greek, leaning upon his hand, and shrinking not from that sun—his nation's tutelary89 deity90—with whose fluent light of poesy, and joy, and love, his own veins91 were filled, gazed upon the broad expanse, and envied, perhaps, every wind that bent its pinions92 towards the shores of Greece.
'Tell me, Clodius,' said the Greek at last, 'hast thou ever been in love?'
'Yes, very often.'
'He who has loved often,' answered Glaucus, 'has loved never. There is but one Eros, though there are many counterfeits93 of him.'
'The counterfeits are not bad little gods, upon the whole,' answered Clodius.
'I agree with you,' returned the Greek. 'I adore even the shadow of Love; but I adore himself yet more.'
'Art thou, then, soberly and honestly in love? Hast thou that feeling which the poets describe—a feeling that makes us neglect our suppers, forswear the theatre, and write elegies94? I should never have thought it. You dissemble well.'
'I am not far gone enough for that,' returned Glaucus, smiling, 'or rather I say with Tibullus—
He whom love rules, where'er his path may be, Walks safe and sacred.
In fact, I am not in love; but I could be if there were but occasion to see the object. Eros would light his torch, but the priests have given him no oil.'
'Shall I guess the object?—Is it not Diomed's daughter? She adores you, and does not affect to conceal95 it; and, by Hercules, I say again and again, she is both handsome and rich. She will bind96 the door-posts of her husband with golden fillets.'
'No, I do not desire to sell myself. Diomed's daughter is handsome, I grant: and at one time, had she not been the grandchild of a freedman, I might have... Yet no—she carries all her beauty in her face; her manners are not maiden-like, and her mind knows no culture save that of pleasure.'
'You shall hear, my Clodius. Several months ago I was sojourning at Neapolis, a city utterly98 to my own heart, for it still retains the manners and stamp of its Grecian origin—and it yet merits the name of Parthenope, from its delicious air and its beautiful shores. One day I entered the temple of Minerva, to offer up my prayers, not for myself more than for the city on which Pallas smiles no longer. The temple was empty and deserted99. The recollections of Athens crowded fast and meltingly upon me: imagining myself still alone in the temple, and absorbed in the earnestness of my devotion, my prayer gushed100 from my heart to my lips, and I wept as I prayed. I was startled in the midst of my devotions, however, by a deep sigh; I turned suddenly round, and just behind me was a female. She had raised her veil also in prayer: and when our eyes met, methought a celestial101 ray shot from those dark and smiling orbs102 at once into my soul. Never, my Clodius, have I seen mortal face more exquisitely103 molded: a certain melancholy104 softened105 and yet elevated its expression: that unutterable something, which springs from the soul, and which our sculptors106 have imparted to the aspect of Psyche107, gave her beauty I know not what of divine and noble; tears were rolling down her eyes. I guessed at once that she was also of Athenian lineage; and that in my prayer for Athens her heart had responded to mine. I spoke56 to her, though with a faltering108 voice—"Art thou not, too, Athenian?" said I, "O beautiful virgin!" At the sound of my voice she blushed, and half drew her veil across her face.—"My forefathers109' ashes," said she, "repose110 by the waters of Ilissus: my birth is of Neapolis; but my heart, as my lineage, is Athenian."—"Let us, then," said I, "make our offerings together": and, as the priest now appeared, we stood side by side, while we followed the priest in his ceremonial prayer; together we touched the knees of the goddess—together we laid our olive garlands on the altar. I felt a strange emotion of almost sacred tenderness at this companionship. We, strangers from a far and fallen land, stood together and alone in that temple of our country's deity: was it not natural that my heart should yearn to my countrywoman, for so I might surely call her? I felt as if I had known her for years; and that simple rite31 seemed, as by a miracle, to operate on the sympathies and ties of time. Silently we left the temple, and I was about to ask her where she dwelt, and if I might be permitted to visit her, when a youth, in whose features there was some kindred resemblance to her own, and who stood upon the steps of the fane, took her by the hand. She turned round and bade me farewell. The crowd separated us: I saw her no more. On reaching my home I found letters, which obliged me to set out for Athens, for my relations threatened me with litigation concerning my inheritance. When that suit was happily over, I repaired once more to Neapolis; I instituted inquiries111 throughout the whole city, I could discover no clue of my lost countrywoman, and, hoping to lose in gaiety all remembrance of that beautiful apparition112, I hastened to plunge113 myself amidst the luxuries of Pompeii. This is all my history. I do not love; but I remember and regret.'
As Clodius was about to reply, a slow and stately step approached them, and at the sound it made amongst the pebbles, each turned, and each recognized the new-comer.
It was a man who had scarcely reached his fortieth year, of tall stature114, and of a thin but nervous and sinewy115 frame. His skin, dark and bronzed, betrayed his Eastern origin; and his features had something Greek in their outline (especially in the chin, the lip, and the brow), save that the nose was somewhat raised and aquiline116; and the bones, hard and visible, forbade that fleshy and waving contour which on the Grecian physiognomy preserved even in manhood the round and beautiful curves of youth. His eyes, large and black as the deepest night, shone with no varying and uncertain lustre117. A deep, thoughtful, and half-melancholy calm seemed unalterably fixed118 in their majestic119 and commanding gaze. His step and mien120 were peculiarly sedate121 and lofty, and something foreign in the fashion and the sober hues of his sweeping122 garments added to the impressive effect of his quiet countenance123 and stately form. Each of the young men, in saluting124 the new-comer, made mechanically, and with care to conceal it from him, a slight gesture or sign with their fingers; for Arbaces, the Egyptian, was supposed to possess the fatal gift of the evil eye.
'The scene must, indeed, be beautiful,' said Arbaces, with a cold though courteous125 smile, 'which draws the gay Clodius, and Glaucus the all admired, from the crowded thoroughfares of the city.'
'Is Nature ordinarily so unattractive?' asked the Greek.
'To the dissipated—yes.'
'An austere126 reply, but scarcely a wise one. Pleasure delights in contrasts; it is from dissipation that we learn to enjoy solitude127, and from solitude dissipation.'
'So think the young philosophers of the Garden,' replied the Egyptian; 'they mistake lassitude for meditation128, and imagine that, because they are sated with others, they know the delight of loneliness. But not in such jaded129 bosoms130 can Nature awaken131 that enthusiasm which alone draws from her chaste132 reserve all her unspeakable beauty: she demands from you, not the exhaustion133 of passion, but all that fervor134, from which you only seek, in adoring her, a release. When, young Athenian, the moon revealed herself in visions of light to Endymion, it was after a day passed, not amongst the feverish135 haunts of men, but on the still mountains and in the solitary valleys of the hunter.'
'Beautiful simile136!' cried Glaucus; 'most unjust application! Exhaustion! that word is for age, not youth. By me, at least, one moment of satiety137 has never been known!'
Again the Egyptian smiled, but his smile was cold and blighting138, and even the unimaginative Clodius froze beneath its light. He did not, however, reply to the passionate exclamation139 of Glaucus; but, after a pause, he said, in a soft and melancholy voice:
'After all, you do right to enjoy the hour while it smiles for you; the rose soon withers140, the perfume soon exhales141. And we, O Glaucus! strangers in the land and far from our fathers' ashes, what is there left for us but pleasure or regret!—for you the first, perhaps for me the last.'
The bright eyes of the Greek were suddenly suffused142 with tears. 'Ah, speak not, Arbaces,' he cried—'speak not of our ancestors. Let us forget that there were ever other liberties than those of Rome! And Glory!—oh, vainly would we call her ghost from the fields of Marathon and Thermopylae!'
'Thy heart rebukes143 thee while thou speakest,' said the Egyptian; 'and in thy gaieties this night, thou wilt144 be more mindful of Leoena than of Lais. Vale!'
Thus saying, he gathered his robe around him, and slowly swept away.
'I breathe more freely,' said Clodius. 'Imitating the Egyptians, we sometimes introduce a skeleton at our feasts. In truth, the presence of such an Egyptian as yon gliding145 shadow were spectre enough to sour the richest grape of the Falernian.'
'Strange man! said Glaucus, musingly146; 'yet dead though he seem to pleasure, and cold to the objects of the world, scandal belies147 him, or his house and his heart could tell a different tale.'
'Ah! there are whispers of other orgies than those of Osiris in his gloomy mansion148. He is rich, too, they say. Can we not get him amongst us, and teach him the charms of dice149? Pleasure of pleasures! hot fever of hope and fear! inexpressible unjaded passion! how fiercely beautiful thou art, O Gaming!'
'Inspired—inspired!' cried Glaucus, laughing; 'the oracle150 speaks poetry in Clodius. What miracle next!'
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1
confession
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| n.自白，供认，承认 | |
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gaudy
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| adj.华而不实的；俗丽的 | |
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harmonious
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| adj.和睦的，调和的，和谐的，协调的 | |
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frescoes
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| n.壁画( fresco的名词复数 )；温壁画技法，湿壁画 | |
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varied
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| adj.多样的，多变化的 | |
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vista
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| n.远景，深景，展望，回想 | |
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upwards
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| adv.向上，在更高处...以上 | |
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graceful
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| adj.优美的，优雅的；得体的 | |
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9
intervals
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| n.[军事]间隔( interval的名词复数 )；间隔时间；[数学]区间；（戏剧、电影或音乐会的）幕间休息 | |
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alluring
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| adj.吸引人的，迷人的 | |
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lurking
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| 潜在 | |
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awning
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vivacious
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| adj.活泼的，快活的 | |
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ponderous
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| adj.沉重的，笨重的，(文章)冗长的 | |
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mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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incipient
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| adj.起初的，发端的，初期的 | |
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pedants
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| n.卖弄学问的人，学究，书呆子( pedant的名词复数 ) | |
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literally
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| adv.照字面意义，逐字地；确实 | |
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eloquent
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| adj.雄辩的，口才流利的；明白显示出的 | |
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epic
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mimic
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papyrus
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refinement
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versatility
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philosophical
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conceited
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loathsome
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delineation
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rebukingly
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wheezing
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rite
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mechanism
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affected
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parasite
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arrogant
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conversing
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porticoes
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modulating
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gracefully
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| ad.大大方方地；优美地 | |
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inviting
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compassion
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hush
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| int.嘘，别出声；n.沉默，静寂；v.使安静 | |
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43
yearning
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| a.渴望的；向往的；怀念的 | |
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44
yearn
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| v.想念；怀念；渴望 | |
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45
passionate
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| adj.热情的，热烈的，激昂的，易动情的，易怒的，性情暴躁的 | |
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46
woe
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| n.悲哀，苦痛，不幸，困难；int.用来表达悲伤或惊慌 | |
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47
glide
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| n./v.溜，滑行；(时间)消逝 | |
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48
behold
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| v.看，注视，看到 | |
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49
joyously
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| ad.快乐地, 高兴地 | |
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50
gaily
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| adv.欢乐地，高兴地 | |
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51
prettily
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| adv.优美地；可爱地 | |
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52
salute
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| vi.行礼，致意，问候，放礼炮；vt.向…致意，迎接，赞扬；n.招呼，敬礼，礼炮 | |
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53
vouchsafes
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| v.给予，赐予( vouchsafe的第三人称单数 )；允诺 | |
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54
villa
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| n.别墅，城郊小屋 | |
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55
bespoke
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| adj.（产品）订做的；专做订货的v.预定( bespeak的过去式 )；订（货）；证明；预先请求 | |
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56
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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57
gem
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| n.宝石，珠宝；受爱戴的人 [同]jewel | |
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58
weds
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| v.嫁，娶，（与…）结婚( wed的第三人称单数 ) | |
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59
beheld
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| v.看，注视( behold的过去式和过去分词 )；瞧；看呀；（叙述中用于引出某人意外的出现）哎哟 | |
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60
renounced
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| v.声明放弃( renounce的过去式和过去分词 )；宣布放弃；宣布与…决裂；宣布摒弃 | |
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61
prerogative
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| n.特权 | |
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62
hover
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| vi.翱翔，盘旋；徘徊；彷徨，犹豫 | |
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63
bosom
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| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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64
hues
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| 色彩( hue的名词复数 )； 色调； 信仰； 观点 | |
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65
rosy
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| adj.美好的，乐观的，玫瑰色的 | |
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66
fragrant
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| adj.芬香的，馥郁的，愉快的 | |
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67
scatter
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| vt.撒，驱散，散开；散布/播；vi.分散，消散 | |
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68
poetical
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| adj.似诗人的；诗一般的；韵文的；富有诗意的 | |
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69
animated
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| adj.生气勃勃的，活跃的，愉快的 | |
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70
specimen
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| n.样本，标本 | |
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71
forum
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| n.论坛，讨论会 | |
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72
corruption
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| n.腐败，堕落，贪污 | |
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73
vice
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| n.坏事；恶习；[pl.]台钳，老虎钳；adj.副的 | |
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74
monarchy
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| n.君主，最高统治者；君主政体，君主国 | |
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75
maxim
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| n.格言，箴言 | |
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76
vessels
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| n.血管( vessel的名词复数 )；船；容器；（具有特殊品质或接受特殊品质的）人 | |
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77
gilded
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| a.镀金的，富有的 | |
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78
galleys
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| n.平底大船，战舰( galley的名词复数 )；（船上或航空器上的）厨房 | |
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79
glided
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| v.滑动( glide的过去式和过去分词 )；掠过；（鸟或飞机 ） 滑翔 | |
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80
vehement
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| adj.感情强烈的；热烈的；(人)有强烈感情的 | |
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81
narrating
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| v.故事( narrate的现在分词 ) | |
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82
mariners
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| 海员，水手（mariner的复数形式） | |
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83
mole
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| n.胎块；痣；克分子 | |
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84
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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85
solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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86
pebbles
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| [复数]鹅卵石； 沙砾； 卵石，小圆石( pebble的名词复数 ) | |
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87
inhaled
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| v.吸入( inhale的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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88
voluptuous
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| adj.肉欲的，骄奢淫逸的 | |
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89
tutelary
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| adj.保护的；守护的 | |
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90
deity
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| n.神，神性；被奉若神明的人(或物) | |
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91
veins
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| n.纹理；矿脉( vein的名词复数 )；静脉；叶脉；纹理 | |
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92
pinions
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| v.抓住[捆住]（双臂）( pinion的第三人称单数 ) | |
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93
counterfeits
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| v.仿制，造假( counterfeit的第三人称单数 ) | |
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94
elegies
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| n.哀歌，挽歌( elegy的名词复数 ) | |
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95
conceal
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| v.隐藏，隐瞒，隐蔽 | |
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96
bind
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| vt.捆，包扎；装订；约束；使凝固；vi.变硬 | |
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97
virgin
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| n.处女，未婚女子；adj.未经使用的；未经开发的 | |
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98
utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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99
deserted
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| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
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100
gushed
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| v.喷，涌( gush的过去式和过去分词 )；滔滔不绝地说话 | |
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101
celestial
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| adj.天体的；天上的 | |
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102
orbs
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| abbr.off-reservation boarding school 在校寄宿学校n.球，天体，圆形物( orb的名词复数 ) | |
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103
exquisitely
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| adv.精致地；强烈地；剧烈地；异常地 | |
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104
melancholy
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| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
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105
softened
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| （使）变软( soften的过去式和过去分词 )； 缓解打击； 缓和； 安慰 | |
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106
sculptors
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| 雕刻家，雕塑家( sculptor的名词复数 )； [天]玉夫座 | |
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107
psyche
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| n.精神；灵魂 | |
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108
faltering
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| 犹豫的，支吾的，蹒跚的 | |
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109
forefathers
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| n.祖先，先人；祖先，祖宗( forefather的名词复数 )；列祖列宗；前人 | |
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110
repose
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| v.(使)休息；n.安息 | |
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111
inquiries
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| n.调查( inquiry的名词复数 )；疑问；探究；打听 | |
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112
apparition
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| n.幽灵，神奇的现象 | |
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113
plunge
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| v.跳入，(使)投入，(使)陷入；猛冲 | |
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114
stature
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| n.（高度）水平，（高度）境界，身高，身材 | |
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115
sinewy
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| adj.多腱的，强壮有力的 | |
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116
aquiline
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| adj.钩状的，鹰的 | |
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117
lustre
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| n.光亮，光泽；荣誉 | |
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118
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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119
majestic
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| adj.雄伟的，壮丽的，庄严的，威严的，崇高的 | |
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120
mien
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| n.风采；态度 | |
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121
sedate
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| adj.沉着的，镇静的，安静的 | |
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122
sweeping
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| adj.范围广大的，一扫无遗的 | |
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123
countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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124
saluting
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| v.欢迎，致敬( salute的现在分词 )；赞扬，赞颂 | |
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125
courteous
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| adj.彬彬有礼的，客气的 | |
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126
austere
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| adj.艰苦的；朴素的，朴实无华的；严峻的 | |
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127
solitude
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| n. 孤独; 独居,荒僻之地,幽静的地方 | |
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128
meditation
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| n.熟虑，（尤指宗教的）默想，沉思，（pl.）冥想录 | |
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129
jaded
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| adj.精疲力竭的；厌倦的；（因过饱或过多而）腻烦的；迟钝的 | |
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130
bosoms
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| 胸部( bosom的名词复数 )； 胸怀； 女衣胸部（或胸襟）； 和爱护自己的人在一起的情形 | |
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131
awaken
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| vi.醒，觉醒；vt.唤醒，使觉醒，唤起，激起 | |
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132
chaste
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| adj.贞洁的；有道德的；善良的；简朴的 | |
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133
exhaustion
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| n.耗尽枯竭，疲惫，筋疲力尽，竭尽，详尽无遗的论述 | |
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134
fervor
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| n.热诚；热心；炽热 | |
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135
feverish
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| adj.发烧的，狂热的，兴奋的 | |
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136
simile
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| n.直喻，明喻 | |
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137
satiety
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| n.饱和；(市场的)充分供应 | |
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138
blighting
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| 使凋萎( blight的现在分词 )； 使颓丧； 损害； 妨害 | |
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139
exclamation
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| n.感叹号，惊呼，惊叹词 | |
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140
withers
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| 马肩隆 | |
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141
exhales
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| v.呼出，发散出( exhale的第三人称单数 )；吐出（肺中的空气、烟等），呼气 | |
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142
suffused
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| v.（指颜色、水气等）弥漫于，布满( suffuse的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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143
rebukes
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| 责难或指责( rebuke的第三人称单数 ) | |
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144
wilt
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| v.(使)植物凋谢或枯萎；(指人)疲倦，衰弱 | |
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145
gliding
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| v. 滑翔 adj. 滑动的 | |
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146
musingly
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| adv.沉思地，冥想地 | |
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147
belies
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| v.掩饰( belie的第三人称单数 )；证明（或显示）…为虚假；辜负；就…扯谎 | |
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148
mansion
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| n.大厦，大楼；宅第 | |
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149
dice
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| n.骰子；vt.把（食物）切成小方块，冒险 | |
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150
oracle
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| n.神谕，神谕处，预言 | |
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