Fabrizio looked about for a place whence he might look on without being seen. He observed that from that great height he could look all over his father’s gardens, and even into the inner courtyard of his house. He had forgotten it. The thought of his father, now nearing the close of his life, changed all his feelings toward him. He could even distinguish the sparrows hopping7 about in search of a few crumbs8 on the balcony of the great dining-room.
“They are the descendants of those I once tamed,” he thought. This balcony, like all the others, was adorned9 with numerous orange trees, set in earthenware10 vases, large and small. The sight of them touched him. There was an air of great dignity about this inner courtyard, thus adorned, with its sharply cut shadows standing11 out against the brilliant sunshine.
The thought of his father’s failing health came back to him. “It really is very odd!” he said to himself. “My father is only thirty-five years older than I am—thirty-five[172] and twenty-three only make fifty-eight.” The eyes which were gazing at the windows of the room occupied by the harsh parent, whom he had never loved, brimmed over with tears. He shuddered12, and a sudden chill ran through his veins13 when he fancied he recognised his father crossing an orange-covered terrace on the level of his chamber14. But it was only a man-servant. Just beneath the tower a number of young girls in white dresses, and divided into several groups, were busily outlining patterns in red, blue, and yellow flowers on the soil of the streets along which the procession was to pass. But there was another sight which appealed yet more strongly to Fabrizio’s soul. From his tower he could look over the two arms of the lake for a distance of several leagues, and this magnificent prospect15 soon made him forget every other sight. It stirred the most lofty feelings in his breast. All his childish memories crowded on his brain; and that day spent prisoned in a church tower was perhaps one of the happiest in his life.
His felicity carried him to a frame of thought considerably16 higher than was as a rule natural to him. Young as he was, he pondered over the events of his past life as though he had already reached its close. “I must acknowledge that never, since I came to Parma,” he mused17 at last, after several hours of the most delightful18 reverie, “have I known calm and perfect delight such as I used to feel at Naples, when I galloped19 along the roads of Vomero, or wandered on the coasts of Misena.
“All the complicated interests of that spiteful little court have made me spiteful, too.… I find no pleasure in hating anybody; I even think it would be but a poor delight to me to see my enemies humiliated20, if I had any. But, hold!” he cried; “I have an enemy—Giletti! Now, it is curious,” he went on, “that my pleasure at the idea of seeing that ugly fellow going to the devil should have outlived the very slight fancy I had for little Marietta.… She is not to be compared to the Duchess d’A⸺, to whom I was obliged to make love, at Naples, because I had told her I had fallen in love with her. Heavens, how bored I used to be during those long hours of intimacy21 with which the[173] fair duchess used to honour me! I never felt anything of that sort in the shabby room—bedroom and kitchen, too—in which little Marietta received me twice, and for two minutes each time!
“And heavens, again! What do those people eat? It was pitiful! I ought to have given her mamaccia a pension of three beefsteaks a day.… That little Marietta,” he added, “distracted me from the wicked thoughts with which the neighbourhood of the court had inspired me.
“Perhaps I should have done better to take up with the ‘café life,’ as the duchess calls it. She seemed rather to incline to it, and she is much cleverer than I am. Thanks to her bounty—or even with this income of four thousand francs a year, and the interest of the forty thousand francs invested at Lyons, which my mother intends for me—I should always have been able to keep a horse and to spend a few crowns on making excavations22 and forming a collection. As I am apparently23 never destined24 to know what love is, my greatest pleasures will always lie in that direction. I should like, before I die, to go back once to the battle-field of Waterloo, and try to recognise the meadow where I was lifted from my horse in such comical fashion, and left sitting on the grass. Once that pilgrimage had been performed, I would often come back to this noble lake. There can be nothing so beautiful in the whole world—to my heart, at all events! Why should I wander so far away in search of happiness? It lies here, under my very eyes.
“Ah,” said Fabrizio again, “but there is a difficulty—the police forbid my presence near the Lake of Como. But I am younger than the people who direct the police. Here,” he added with a laugh, “I shall find no Duchess d’A⸺, but I should have one of the little girls who are scattering25 flowers down yonder, and I am sure I should love her just as much. Even in love matters, hypocrisy26 freezes me, and our fine ladies aim at too much sublimity27 in their effects. Napoleon has given them notions of propriety28 and constancy.
“The devil!” he exclaimed a moment later, pulling his[174] head in suddenly, as if afraid he might be recognised, in spite of the shadow cast by the huge wooden shutters29 which kept the rain off the bells. “Here come the gendarmes30 in all their splendour!” Ten gendarmes, in fact, four of whom were non-commissioned officers, had appeared at the head of the principal street of the village. The sergeant31 posted them a hundred paces apart, along the line the procession was to follow. “Everybody here knows me. If I am seen, I shall be carried at one bound from the shores of Como to the Spielberg, where I shall have a hundred-and-ten-pound weight of fetters32 fastened to each of my legs. And what a grief for the duchess!”
It was two or three minutes before Fabrizio was able to realize that, in the first place, he was eighty feet above other people’s heads, that the spot where he stood was comparatively dark, that anybody who might glance upward would be blinded by the blazing sun, and, last of all, that every eye was staring wide about the village streets, the houses of which had been freshly whitewashed33 in honour of the feast of San Giovità. In spite of the cogency34 of these arguments, Fabrizio’s Italian soul would have been incapable35 of any further enjoyment36 if he had not interposed a rag of old sacking, which he nailed up in the window, between himself and the gendarmes, making two holes in it so that he might be able to look out.
The bells had been crashing out for ten minutes, the procession was passing out of the church, the mortaretti were exploding loudly. Fabrizio turned his head and looked at the little esplanade, surrounded by a parapet, on which his childish life had so often been endangered by the mortaretti, fired off close to his legs, because of which his mother always insisted on keeping him beside her, on feast days.
These mortaretti (or little mortars), it should be explained, are nothing but gun barrels sawn off in lengths of about four inches. It is for this purpose that the peasants so greedily collect the musket37 barrels which European policy, since the year 1796, has sown broadcast over the plains of Lombardy. When these little tubes are cut[175] into four-inch lengths, they are loaded up to the very muzzle38, set on the ground in a vertical39 position, and a train of powder is laid from one to the other; they are ranged in three lines, like a battalion40, to the number of some two or three hundred, in some clear space near the line of procession. When the Holy Sacrament approaches, the train of powder is lighted, and then begins a sharp, dropping fire of the most irregular and ridiculous description, which sends all the women wild with delight. Nothing more cheery can be imagined than the noise of these mortaretti, as heard from a distance across the lake, and softened41 by the rocking of the waters. The curious rattle42 which had so often been the delight of his childhood put the overserious notions which had assailed43 our hero to flight. He fetched the Father’s big astronomical44 telescope, and was able to recognise most of the men and women taking part in the procession. Many charming little girls, whom Fabrizio had left behind him as slips of eleven and twelve years old, had now grown into magnificent-looking women, in all the flower of the most healthy youth. The sight of them brought back our hero’s courage, and for the sake of exchanging a word with them, he would have braved the gendarmes willingly.
When the procession had passed, and re-entered the church by a side door, which was out of Fabrizio’s range of vision, the heat at the top of the tower soon became intense. The villagers returned to their homes, and deep silence fell over the place. Several boats filled with peasants departed to Bellagio, Menaggio, and other villages on the shores of the lake. Fabrizio could distinguish the sound of every stroke of the oars45. This detail, simple as it was, threw him into a perfect ecstasy46; his delight at that moment was built up on all the unhappiness and discomfort47 which the complicated life of courts had inflicted48 upon him. What a pleasure would it have been, at that moment, to row a league’s distance over that beautiful calm lake, in which the depths of the heavens were so faithfully reflected! He heard somebody open the door at the bottom of the tower—Father Blanès’s old servant, laden49 with a big basket; it was as much as he could do to refrain from going to speak to[176] her. “She has almost as much affection for me as her master has,” he thought. “And I am going away at nine o’clock to-night. Would she not keep silence, as she would swear to me to do, even for those few hours? But,” said Fabrizio to himself, “I should displease50 my friend; I might get him into trouble with the gendarmes.” And he let Ghita depart without saying a word to her. He made an excellent dinner, and then lay down to sleep for a few minutes. He did not wake till half-past eight at night. Father Blanès was shaking his arm, and it had grown quite dark.
Blanès was exceedingly weary; he looked fifty years older than on the preceding night; he made no further reference to serious matters. Seating himself in his wooden chair, “Kiss me,” he said to Fabrizio. Several times over he clasped him in his arms. At last he spoke51: “Death, which will soon end this long life of mine, will not be so painful as this separation. I have a purse which I shall leave in Ghita’s care, with orders to use its contents for her own need, but to make over whatever it may contain to you, if you should ever ask her for it. I know her; once I have given her this command she is capable, in her desire to save for you, of not eating meat four times in the year, unless you give her explicit52 orders on the subject. You may be reduced to penury53 yourself, and then your old friend’s mite54 may be of service to you. Expect nothing but vile55 treatment from your brother, and try to earn money by some labour that will make you useful to society. I foresee strange tempests; fifty years hence, perhaps, no idle man will be allowed to live. Your mother and your aunt may fail you; your sisters must obey their husbands’ will——” Then suddenly, he cried: “Go! Go! Fly!” He had just heard a little noise in the clock, a warning that it was about to strike ten. He would not even give Fabrizio time for a farewell embrace.
“Make haste! make haste!” he cried. “It will take you at least a minute to get down the stairs. Take care you do not fall; that would be a terrible omen4.” Fabrizio rushed down the stairs, and once out on the square, he began to run.[177] He had hardly reached his father’s castle before the clock struck ten.
Every stroke echoed in his breast, and filled him with a strange sense of agitation56. He paused to reflect, or rather to give rein57 to the passionate58 feelings inspired by the contemplation of the majestic59 edifice60 at which he had looked so coolly only the night before. His reverie was disturbed by human footsteps; he looked up, and saw himself surrounded by four gendarmes. He had two excellent pistols, the priming of which he had renewed during his dinner; the click he made as he cocked them attracted one of the gendarme’s notice, and very nearly brought about his arrest. He recognised his danger, and thought of firing at once. He would have been within his rights, for it was his only chance of resisting four armed men. Fortunately for him, the gendarmes, who were going round to clear the wine-shops, had not treated the civilities offered them in several of these hospitable61 meeting-places with absolute indifference62. They were not sufficiently63 quick in making up their minds to do their duty. Fabrizio fled at the top of his speed. The gendarmes ran a few steps after him, shouting, “Stop! stop!” Then silence fell on everything once more. Some three hundred paces off Fabrizio stopped to get his breath. “The noise of my pistols very nearly caused my arrest. It would have served me right if the duchess had told me—if ever I had been allowed to look into her beautiful eyes again—that my soul delights in contemplating64 things that may happen ten years hence, and forgets to look at those which are actually under my nose.”
Fabrizio shuddered at the thought of the danger he had just escaped. He hastened his steps, but soon he could not restrain himself from running, which was not over-prudent, for he attracted the attention of several peasants on their homeward way. Yet he could not prevail upon himself to stop till he was on the mountain, over a league from Grianta, and even then he broke into a cold sweat, whenever he thought of the Spielberg.
“I’ve been in a pretty fright!” said he to himself, and at the sound of the word he felt almost inclined to be ashamed.[178] “But does not my aunt tell me that the thing I need most is to learn how to forgive myself? I am always comparing myself with a perfect model, which can have no real existence. So be it, then. I will forgive myself my fright, for, on the other hand, I was very ready to defend my liberty, and certainly those four men would not all have been left to take me to prison. What I am doing at this moment,” he added, “is not soldierly. Instead of rapidly retiring after having fulfilled my object, and possibly roused my enemy’s suspicions, I am indulging a whim65 which is perhaps more absurd than all the good father’s predictions.”
And, in fact, instead of returning by the shortest road, and gaining the banks of the Lago Maggiore, where the boat awaited him, he was making a huge detour66 for the purpose of seeing his tree—my readers will perhaps recollect67 Fabrizio’s affection for a chestnut68 tree planted by his mother some three-and-twenty years previously69. “It would be worthy70 of my brother,” he thought, “if he had had that tree cut down; but such creatures as he have no feeling for delicate matters. He will not have thought of it, and besides,” he added resolutely71, “it would not be an evil omen.” Two hours later there was consternation72 in his glance; mischievous73 hands, or a stormy wind, had broken off one of the chief branches of the young tree, and it was hanging withered74. With the help of his dagger75 Fabrizio cut it off carefully, and closely pared the wound, so that the rain might not enter the trunk. Then, though time was very precious to him, for it was nearly dawn, he spent a good hour in digging up the ground round the beloved tree. When all these follies76 were accomplished77, he rapidly proceeded on his way toward the Lago Maggiore. He did not feel depressed78 on the whole; the tree was doing well, it was stronger than ever, and in five years it had almost doubled in size. The broken branch was a mere79 accident, of no consequence.
Now that it had been lopped off, the tree would not suffer, and would even grow the taller, as its limbs divided at a greater height.
Before Fabrizio had travelled a league, a brilliant strip[179] of white light in the east outlined the peaks of the Resegon di Lek, a well-known mountain in that country. The road he was now following was full of peasants, but instead of thinking of military matters, Fabrizio was filled with emotion by the sublime80 or touching81 aspects of the forest round the Lake of Como. They are perhaps the most lovely in the world. I do not mean those which bring in the greatest number of “new crowns,” as they say in Switzerland, but those which appeal most strongly to the human soul. For a man in Fabrizio’s position, exposed to all the attentions of the gendarmes of Lombardy and Venetia, it was mere childishness to listen to their language. At last he said to himself: “I am half a league from the frontier. I shall meet the customs officers and the gendarmes making their round. This fine cloth coat of mine will rouse their suspicions; they will ask me for my passport. The said passport bears a name doomed82 to a prison, written in fair characters, and so I find myself under the agreeable necessity of committing murder. If the gendarmes walk two together, as they generally do, I dare not wait till one of them seizes me by the collar before I fire; if he should hold me for one instant before he falls, I shall find myself at the Spielberg.”
Fabrizio—filled with a special horror at the idea of firing first, and possibly on an old soldier who had served under his uncle, Count Pietranera—ran to hide himself in the hollow trunk of a huge chestnut tree. He was putting fresh caps into his pistols when he heard a man coming through the wood, singing, as he came, in a charming voice, a delightful air by Mercadante, then fashionable in Italy.
“That’s a good omen!” said Fabrizio to himself; he listened attentively83 to the melody, and the sound of it wiped out the little touch of anger which had begun to season his arguments. He looked carefully up and down the high-road and saw nobody. “The singer will come up some side road,” thought he to himself. Almost at that very moment he saw a servant, very neatly84 dressed in the English style, ride slowly up the road on a hack85, leading a very fine blood-horse, perhaps a trifle too thin.
“Ah,” said Fabrizio to himself, “if I had reasoned like Mosca, who is perpetually telling me that the risk a man runs always marks the ratio of his rights over his neighbour, I should crack this serving-man’s skull86 with a pistol-shot, and once I was on that horse, I should snap my fingers at all the gendarmes in the world. Then, as soon as I got back to Parma, I would send money to the man or his widow. But that would be an abominable87 action.”
该作者的其它作品
《红与黑 The Red and the Black》
该作者的其它作品
《红与黑 The Red and the Black》
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
discourse
|
|
| n.论文，演说；谈话；话语；vi.讲述，著述 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
feverish
|
|
| adj.发烧的，狂热的，兴奋的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
slumber
|
|
| n.睡眠，沉睡状态 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
omen
|
|
| n.征兆，预兆；vt.预示 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
omens
|
|
| n.前兆，预兆( omen的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
frightful
|
|
| adj.可怕的；讨厌的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
hopping
|
|
| n. 跳跃 动词hop的现在分词形式 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
crumbs
|
|
| int. (表示惊讶)哎呀 n. 碎屑 名词crumb的复数形式 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
adorned
|
|
| [计]被修饰的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
earthenware
|
|
| n.土器，陶器 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
standing
|
|
| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
shuddered
|
|
| v.战栗( shudder的过去式和过去分词 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
veins
|
|
| n.纹理；矿脉( vein的名词复数 )；静脉；叶脉；纹理 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
chamber
|
|
| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
prospect
|
|
| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
considerably
|
|
| adv.极大地；相当大地；在很大程度上 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
mused
|
|
| v.沉思，冥想( muse的过去式和过去分词 )；沉思自语说（某事） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
delightful
|
|
| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
galloped
|
|
| （使马）飞奔，奔驰( gallop的过去式和过去分词 )； 快速做[说]某事 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
humiliated
|
|
| 感到羞愧的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
intimacy
|
|
| n.熟悉，亲密，密切关系，亲昵的言行 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
excavations
|
|
| n.挖掘( excavation的名词复数 )；开凿；开凿的洞穴（或山路等）；（发掘出来的）古迹 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
apparently
|
|
| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
destined
|
|
| adj.命中注定的；(for)以…为目的地的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
scattering
|
|
| n.[物]散射；散乱，分散；在媒介质中的散播adj.散乱的；分散在不同范围的；广泛扩散的；（选票）数量分散的v.散射(scatter的ing形式)；散布；驱散 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
hypocrisy
|
|
| n.伪善，虚伪 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
sublimity
|
|
| 崇高，庄严，气质高尚 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
propriety
|
|
| n.正当行为；正当；适当 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
shutters
|
|
| 百叶窗( shutter的名词复数 )； （照相机的）快门 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
gendarmes
|
|
| n.宪兵，警官( gendarme的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
sergeant
|
|
| n.警官，中士 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
fetters
|
|
| n.脚镣( fetter的名词复数 )；束缚v.给…上脚镣，束缚( fetter的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
whitewashed
|
|
| 粉饰，美化，掩饰( whitewash的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
cogency
|
|
| n.说服力；adj.有说服力的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
incapable
|
|
| adj.无能力的，不能做某事的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
enjoyment
|
|
| n.乐趣；享有；享用 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
musket
|
|
| n.滑膛枪 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
muzzle
|
|
| n.鼻口部；口套；枪(炮)口；vt.使缄默 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
vertical
|
|
| adj.垂直的，顶点的，纵向的；n.垂直物，垂直的位置 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
battalion
|
|
| n.营；部队；大队(的人) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
softened
|
|
| （使）变软( soften的过去式和过去分词 )； 缓解打击； 缓和； 安慰 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
rattle
|
|
| v.飞奔，碰响；激怒；n.碰撞声；拨浪鼓 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
assailed
|
|
| v.攻击( assail的过去式和过去分词 )；困扰；质问；毅然应对 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
astronomical
|
|
| adj.天文学的，（数字）极大的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
oars
|
|
| n.桨，橹( oar的名词复数 )；划手v.划（行）( oar的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
ecstasy
|
|
| n.狂喜，心醉神怡，入迷 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
discomfort
|
|
| n.不舒服，不安，难过，困难，不方便 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
inflicted
|
|
| 把…强加给，使承受，遭受( inflict的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
laden
|
|
| adj.装满了的；充满了的；负了重担的；苦恼的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
displease
|
|
| vt.使不高兴，惹怒；n.不悦，不满，生气 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
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： |
|
|
|
|
52
explicit
|
|
| adj.详述的，明确的；坦率的；显然的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
penury
|
|
| n.贫穷，拮据 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
mite
|
|
| n.极小的东西；小铜币 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
vile
|
|
| adj.卑鄙的，可耻的，邪恶的；坏透的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
agitation
|
|
| n.搅动；搅拌；鼓动，煽动 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
rein
|
|
| n.疆绳，统治，支配；vt.以僵绳控制，统治 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
58
passionate
|
|
| adj.热情的，热烈的，激昂的，易动情的，易怒的，性情暴躁的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
59
majestic
|
|
| adj.雄伟的，壮丽的，庄严的，威严的，崇高的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
edifice
|
|
| n.宏伟的建筑物(如宫殿，教室) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
61
hospitable
|
|
| adj.好客的；宽容的；有利的，适宜的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
62
indifference
|
|
| n.不感兴趣，不关心，冷淡，不在乎 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
63
sufficiently
|
|
| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
64
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： |
|
|
|
|
65
whim
|
|
| n.一时的兴致，突然的念头；奇想，幻想 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
66
detour
|
|
| n.绕行的路，迂回路；v.迂回，绕道 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
67
recollect
|
|
| v.回忆，想起，记起，忆起，记得 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
68
chestnut
|
|
| n.栗树，栗子 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
69
previously
|
|
| adv.以前，先前（地） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
70
worthy
|
|
| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
71
resolutely
|
|
| adj.坚决地，果断地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
72
consternation
|
|
| n.大为吃惊，惊骇 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
73
mischievous
|
|
| adj.调皮的，恶作剧的，有害的，伤人的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
74
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： |
|
|
|
|
75
dagger
|
|
| n.匕首，短剑，剑号 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
76
follies
|
|
| 罪恶，时事讽刺剧； 愚蠢，蠢笨，愚蠢的行为、思想或做法( folly的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
77
accomplished
|
|
| adj.有才艺的；有造诣的；达到了的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
78
depressed
|
|
| adj.沮丧的，抑郁的，不景气的，萧条的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
79
mere
|
|
| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
80
sublime
|
|
| adj.崇高的，伟大的；极度的，不顾后果的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
81
touching
|
|
| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
82
doomed
|
|
| 命定的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
83
attentively
|
|
| adv.聚精会神地；周到地；谛；凝神 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
84
neatly
|
|
| adv.整洁地，干净地，灵巧地，熟练地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
85
hack
|
|
| n.劈，砍，出租马车；v.劈，砍，干咳 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
86
skull
|
|
| n.头骨；颅骨 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
87
abominable
|
|
| adj.可厌的，令人憎恶的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |