Because the Duke was an orphan5, even more than because he was a Duke, her heart had with a special rush gone out to him when he and Mr. Noaks became her tenants. But, perhaps because he had never known a mother, he was evidently quite incapable6 of conceiving either Mrs. Batch as his mother or himself as her son. Indeed, there was that in his manner, in his look, which made her falter7, for once, in exposition of her theory—made her postpone8 the matter to some more favourable9 time. That time never came, somehow. Still, her solicitude11 for him, her pride in him, her sense that he was a great credit to her, rather waxed than waned12. He was more to her (such are the vagaries13 of the maternal instinct) than Katie or Mr. Noaks: he was as much as Clarence.
It was, therefore, a deeply agitated14 woman who now came heaving up into the Duke’s presence. His Grace was “giving notice”? She was sure she begged his pardon for coming up so sudden. But the news was that sudden. Hadn’t her girl made a mistake, maybe? Girls were so vague-like nowadays. She was sure it was most kind of him to give those handsome ear-rings. But the thought of him going off so unexpected—middle of term, too—with never a why or a but! Well!
In some such welter of homely15 phrase (how foreign to these classic pages!) did Mrs. Batch utter her pain. The Duke answered her tersely16 but kindly17. He apologised for going so abruptly18, and said he would be very happy to write for her future use a testimonial to the excellence19 of her rooms and of her cooking; and with it he would give her a cheque not only for the full term’s rent, and for his board since the beginning of term, but also for such board as he would have been likely to have in the term’s remainder. He asked her to present her accounts forthwith.
He occupied the few minutes of her absence by writing the testimonial. It had shaped itself in his mind as a short ode in Doric Greek. But, for the benefit of Mrs. Batch, he chose to do a rough equivalent in English.
TO AN UNDERGRADUATE NEEDING
Zeek w’ere thee will in t’Univursity,
Lad, thee’ll not vind nor bread nor bed that
matches
Them as thee’ll vind, roight zure, at Mrs.
Batch’s...
I do not quote the poem in extenso, because, frankly23, I think it was one of his least happily-inspired works. His was not a Muse24 that could with a good grace doff25 the grand manner. Also, his command of the Oxfordshire dialect seems to me based less on study than on conjecture26. In fact, I do not place the poem higher than among the curiosities of literature. It has extrinsic27 value, however, as illustrating28 the Duke’s thoughtfulness for others in the last hours of his life. And to Mrs. Batch the MS., framed and glazed29 in her hall, is an asset beyond price (witness her recent refusal of Mr. Pierpont Morgan’s sensational30 bid for it).
This MS. she received together with the Duke’s cheque. The presentation was made some twenty minutes after she had laid her accounts before him.
Lavish31 in giving large sums of his own accord, he was apt to be circumspect32 in the matter of small payments. Such is ever the way of opulent men. Nor do I see that we have a right to sneer33 at them for it. We cannot deny that their existence is a temptation to us. It is in our fallen nature to want to get something out of them; and, as we think in small sums (heaven knows), it is of small sums that they are careful. Absurd to suppose they really care about halfpence. It must, therefore, be about us that they care; and we ought to be grateful to them for the pains they are at to keep us guiltless. I do not suggest that Mrs. Batch had at any point overcharged the Duke; but how was he to know that she had not done so, except by checking the items, as was his wont34? The reductions that he made, here and there, did not in all amount to three-and-sixpence. I do not say they were just. But I do say that his motive35 for making them, and his satisfaction at having made them, were rather beautiful than otherwise.
Having struck an average of Mrs. Batch’s weekly charges, and a similar average of his own reductions, he had a basis on which to reckon his board for the rest of the term. This amount he added to Mrs. Batch’s amended36 total, plus the full term’s rent, and accordingly drew a cheque on the local bank where he had an account. Mrs. Batch said she would bring up a stamped receipt directly; but this the Duke waived37, saying that the cashed cheque itself would be a sufficient receipt. Accordingly, he reduced by one penny the amount written on the cheque. Remembering to initial the correction, he remembered also, with a melancholy38 smile, that to-morrow the cheque would not be negotiable. Handing it, and the sonnet, to Mrs. Batch, he bade her cash it before the bank closed. “And,” he said, with a glance at his watch, “you have no time to lose. It is a quarter to four.” Only two hours and a quarter before the final races! How quickly the sands were running out!
Mrs. Batch paused on the threshold, wanted to know if she could “help with the packing.” The Duke replied that he was taking nothing with him: his various things would be sent for, packed, and removed, within a few days. No, he did not want her to order a cab. He was going to walk. And “Good-bye, Mrs. Batch,” he said. “For legal reasons with which I won’t burden you, you really must cash that cheque at once.”
He sat down in solitude39; and there crept over him a mood of deep depression... Almost two hours and a quarter before the final races! What on earth should he do in the meantime? He seemed to have done all that there was for him to do. His executors would do the rest. He had no farewell-letters to write. He had no friends with whom he was on terms of valediction40. There was nothing at all for him to do. He stared blankly out of the window, at the greyness and blackness of the sky. What a day! What a climate! Why did any sane41 person live in England? He felt positively42 suicidal.
His dully vagrant43 eye lighted on the bottle of Cold Mixture. He ought to have dosed himself a full hour ago. Well, he didn’t care.
Had Zuleika noticed the bottle? he idly wondered. Probably not. She would have made some sprightly44 reference to it before she went.
Since there was nothing to do but sit and think, he wished he could recapture that mood in which at luncheon45 he had been able to see Zuleika as an object for pity. Never, till to-day, had he seen things otherwise than they were. Nor had he ever needed to. Never, till last night, had there been in his life anything he needed to forget. That woman! As if it really mattered what she thought of him. He despised himself for wishing to forget she despised him. But the wish was the measure of the need. He eyed the chiffonier. Should he again solicit10 the grape?
Reluctantly he uncorked the crusted bottle, and filled a glass. Was he come to this? He sighed and sipped46, quaffed47 and sighed. The spell of the old stored sunshine seemed not to work, this time. He could not cease from plucking at the net of ignominies in which his soul lay enmeshed. Would that he had died yesterday, escaping how much!
Not for an instant did he flinch48 from the mere49 fact of dying to-day. Since he was not immortal50, as he had supposed, it were as well he should die now as fifty years hence. Better, indeed. To die “untimely,” as men called it, was the timeliest of all deaths for one who had carved his youth to greatness. What perfection could he, Dorset, achieve beyond what was already his? Future years could but stale, if not actually mar51, that perfection. Yes, it was lucky to perish leaving much to the imagination of posterity52. Dear posterity was of a sentimental53, not a realistic, habit. She always imagined the dead young hero prancing54 gloriously up to the Psalmist’s limit a young hero still; and it was the sense of her vast loss that kept his memory green. Byron!—he would be all forgotten to-day if he had lived to be a florid old gentleman with iron-grey whiskers, writing very long, very able letters to “The Times” about the Repeal55 of the Corn Laws. Yes, Byron would have been that. It was indicated in him. He would have been an old gentleman exacerbated56 by Queen Victoria’s invincible57 prejudice against him, her brusque refusal to “entertain” Lord John Russell’s timid nomination58 of him for a post in the Government... Shelley would have been a poet to the last. But how dull, how very dull, would have been the poetry of his middle age!—a great unreadable mass interposed between him and us... Did Byron, mused59 the Duke, know what was to be at Missolonghi? Did he know that he was to die in service of the Greeks whom he despised? Byron might not have minded that. But what if the Greeks had told him, in so many words, that they despised HIM? How would he have felt then? Would he have been content with his potations of barley-water?... The Duke replenished60 his glass, hoping the spell might work yet.... Perhaps, had Byron not been a dandy—but ah, had he not been in his soul a dandy there would have been no Byron worth mentioning. And it was because he guarded not his dandyism against this and that irrelevant61 passion, sexual or political, that he cut so annoyingly incomplete a figure. He was absurd in his politics, vulgar in his loves. Only in himself, at the times when he stood haughtily62 aloof63, was he impressive. Nature, fashioning him, had fashioned also a pedestal for him to stand and brood on, to pose and sing on. Off that pedestal he was lost.... “The idol64 has come sliding down from its pedestal”—the Duke remembered these words spoken yesterday by Zuleika. Yes, at the moment when he slid down, he, too, was lost. For him, master-dandy, the common arena65 was no place. What had he to do with love? He was an utter fool at it. Byron had at least had some fun out of it. What fun had HE had? Last night, he had forgotten to kiss Zuleika when he held her by the wrists. To-day it had been as much as he could do to let poor little Katie kiss his hand. Better be vulgar with Byron than a noodle with Dorset! he bitterly reflected... Still, noodledom was nearer than vulgarity to dandyism. It was a less flagrant lapse66. And he had over Byron this further advantage: his noodledom was not a matter of common knowledge; whereas Byron’s vulgarity had ever needed to be in the glare of the footlights of Europe. The world would say of him that he laid down his life for a woman. Deplorable somersault? But nothing evident save this in his whole life was faulty... The one other thing that might be carped at—the partisan67 speech he made in the Lords—had exquisitely68 justified69 itself by its result. For it was as a Knight70 of the Garter that he had set the perfect seal on his dandyism. Yes, he reflected, it was on the day when first he donned the most grandiose71 of all costumes, and wore it grandlier than ever yet in history had it been worn, than ever would it be worn hereafter, flaunting72 the robes with a grace unparalleled and inimitable, and lending, as it were, to the very insignia a glory beyond their own, that he once and for all fulfilled himself, doer of that which he had been sent into the world to do.
And there floated into his mind a desire, vague at first, soon definite, imperious, irresistible73, to see himself once more, before he died, indued in the fulness of his glory and his might.
Nothing hindered. There was yet a whole hour before he need start for the river. His eyes dilated74, somewhat as might those of a child about to “dress up” for a charade75; and already, in his impatience76, he had undone77 his neck-tie.
One after another, he unlocked and threw open the black tin boxes, snatching out greedily their great good splendours of crimson78 and white and royal blue and gold. You wonder he was not appalled79 by the task of essaying unaided a toilet so extensive and so intricate? You wondered even when you heard that he was wont at Oxford to make without help his toilet of every day. Well, the true dandy is always capable of such high independence. He is craftsman80 as well as artist. And, though any unaided Knight but he with whom we are here concerned would belike have doddered hopeless in that labyrinth81 of hooks and buckles82 which underlies83 the visible glory of a Knight “arraied full and proper,” Dorset threaded his way featly and without pause. He had mastered his first excitement. In his swiftness was no haste. His procedure had the ease and inevitability84 of a natural phenomenon, and was most like to the coming of a rainbow.
Crimson-doubleted, blue-ribanded, white-trunk-hosed, he stooped to understrap his left knee with that strap85 of velvet86 round which sparkles the proud gay motto of the Order. He affixed87 to his breast the octoradiant star, so much larger and more lustrous88 than any actual star in heaven. Round his neck he slung89 that long daedal chain wherefrom St. George, slaying90 the Dragon, dangles91. He bowed his shoulders to assume that vast mantle92 of blue velvet, so voluminous, so enveloping93, that, despite the Cross of St. George blazing on it, and the shoulder-knots like two great white tropical flowers planted on it, we seem to know from it in what manner of mantle Elijah prophesied94. Across his breast he knotted this mantle’s two cords of gleaming bullion95, one tassel96 a due trifle higher than its fellow. All these things being done, he moved away from the mirror, and drew on a pair of white kid gloves. Both of these being buttoned, he plucked up certain folds of his mantle into the hollow of his left arm, and with his right hand gave to his left hand that ostrich-plumed and heron-plumed hat of black velvet in which a Knight of the Garter is entitled to take his walks abroad. Then, with head erect97, and measured tread, he returned to the mirror.
You are thinking, I know, of Mr. Sargent’s famous portrait of him. Forget it. Tankerton Hall is open to the public on Wednesdays. Go there, and in the dining-hall stand to study well Sir Thomas Lawrence’s portrait of the eleventh Duke. Imagine a man some twenty years younger than he whom you there behold98, but having some such features and some such bearing, and clad in just such robes. Sublimate99 the dignity of that bearing and of those features, and you will then have seen the fourteenth Duke somewhat as he stood reflected in the mirror of his room. Resist your impulse to pass on to the painting which hangs next but two to Lawrence’s. It deserves, I know, all that you said about it when (at the very time of the events in this chronicle) it was hanging in Burlington House. Marvellous, I grant you, are those passes of the swirling100 brush by which the velvet of the mantle is rendered—passes so light and seemingly so fortuitous, yet, seen at the right distance, so absolute in their power to create an illusion of the actual velvet. Sheen of white satin and silk, glint of gold, glitter of diamonds—never were such things caught by surer hand obedient to more voracious101 eye. Yes, all the splendid surface of everything is there. Yet must you not look. The soul is not there. An expensive, very new costume is there, but no evocation102 of the high antique things it stands for; whereas by the Duke it was just these things that were evoked103 to make an aura round him, a warm symbolic104 glow sharpening the outlines of his own particular magnificence. Reflecting him, the mirror reflected, in due subordination, the history of England. There is nothing of that on Mr. Sargent’s canvas. Obtruded105 instead is the astounding106 slickness of Mr. Sargent’s technique: not the sitter, but the painter, is master here. Nay107, though I hate to say it, there is in the portrayal108 of the Duke’s attitude and expression a hint of something like mockery—unintentional, I am sure, but to a sensitive eye discernible. And—but it is clumsy of me to be reminding you of the very picture I would have you forget.
Long stood the Duke gazing, immobile. One thing alone ruffled109 his deep inward calm. This was the thought that he must presently put off from him all his splendour, and be his normal self.
The shadow passed from his brow. He would go forth20 as he was. He would be true to the motto he wore, and true to himself. A dandy he had lived. In the full pomp and radiance of his dandyism he would die.
His soul rose from calm to triumph. A smile lit his face, and he held his head higher than ever. He had brought nothing into this world and could take nothing out of it? Well, what he loved best he could carry with him to the very end; and in death they would not be divided.
The smile was still on his face as he passed out from his room. Down the stairs he passed, and “Oh,” every stair creaked faintly, “I ought to have been marble!”
And it did indeed seem that Mrs. Batch and Katie, who had hurried out into the hall, were turned to some kind of stone at sight of the descending110 apparition111. A moment ago, Mrs. Batch had been hoping she might yet at the last speak motherly words. A hopeless mute now! A moment ago, Katie’s eyelids112 had been red with much weeping. Even from them the colour suddenly ebbed113 now. Dead-white her face was between the black pearl and the pink. “And this is the man of whom I dared once for an instant hope that he loved me!”—it was thus that the Duke, quite correctly, interpreted her gaze.
To her and to her mother he gave an inclusive bow as he swept slowly by. Stone was the matron, and stone the maid.
Stone, too, the Emperors over the way; and the more poignantly114 thereby115 was the Duke a sight to anguish116 them, being the very incarnation of what themselves had erst been, or tried to be. But in this bitterness they did not forget their sorrow at his doom117. They were in a mood to forgive him the one fault they had ever found in him—his indifference118 to their Katie. And now—o mirum mirorum—even this one fault was wiped out.
For, stung by memory of a gibe119 lately cast at him by himself, the Duke had paused and, impulsively120 looking back into the hall, had beckoned121 Katie to him; and she had come (she knew not how) to him; and there, standing122 on the doorstep whose whiteness was the symbol of her love, he—very lightly, it is true, and on the upmost confines of the brow, but quite perceptibly—had kissed her.
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
batch
|
|
| n.一批(组，群)；一批生产量 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
lodging
|
|
| n.寄宿，住所；(大学生的)校外宿舍 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
tenants
|
|
| n.房客( tenant的名词复数 )；佃户；占用者；占有者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
maternal
|
|
| adj.母亲的，母亲般的，母系的，母方的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
orphan
|
|
| n.孤儿；adj.无父母的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
incapable
|
|
| adj.无能力的，不能做某事的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
falter
|
|
| vi.(嗓音)颤抖，结巴地说；犹豫；蹒跚 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
postpone
|
|
| v.延期，推迟 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
favourable
|
|
| adj.赞成的，称赞的，有利的，良好的，顺利的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
solicit
|
|
| vi.勾引；乞求；vt.请求，乞求；招揽(生意) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
solicitude
|
|
| n.焦虑 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
waned
|
|
| v.衰落( wane的过去式和过去分词 )；（月）亏；变小；变暗淡 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
vagaries
|
|
| n.奇想( vagary的名词复数 )；异想天开；异常行为；难以预测的情况 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
agitated
|
|
| adj.被鼓动的，不安的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
homely
|
|
| adj.家常的，简朴的；不漂亮的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
tersely
|
|
| adv. 简捷地, 简要地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
kindly
|
|
| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
abruptly
|
|
| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
excellence
|
|
| n.优秀，杰出，(pl.)优点，美德 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
forth
|
|
| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
Oxford
|
|
| n.牛津（英国城市） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
sonnet
|
|
| n.十四行诗 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
frankly
|
|
| adv.坦白地，直率地；坦率地说 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
muse
|
|
| n.缪斯（希腊神话中的女神），创作灵感 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
doff
|
|
| v.脱，丢弃，废除 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
conjecture
|
|
| n./v.推测，猜测 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
extrinsic
|
|
| adj.外部的；不紧要的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
illustrating
|
|
| 给…加插图( illustrate的现在分词 )； 说明； 表明； （用示例、图画等）说明 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
glazed
|
|
| adj.光滑的，像玻璃的；上过釉的；呆滞无神的v.装玻璃( glaze的过去式)；上釉于，上光；（目光）变得呆滞无神 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
sensational
|
|
| adj.使人感动的，非常好的，轰动的，耸人听闻的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
lavish
|
|
| adj.无节制的；浪费的；vt.慷慨地给予，挥霍 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
circumspect
|
|
| adj.慎重的，谨慎的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
sneer
|
|
| v.轻蔑；嘲笑；n.嘲笑，讥讽的言语 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
wont
|
|
| adj.习惯于；v.习惯；n.习惯 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
motive
|
|
| n.动机，目的；adv.发动的，运动的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
Amended
|
|
| adj. 修正的 动词amend的过去式和过去分词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
waived
|
|
| v.宣布放弃( waive的过去式和过去分词 )；搁置；推迟；放弃（权利、要求等） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
melancholy
|
|
| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
solitude
|
|
| n. 孤独; 独居,荒僻之地,幽静的地方 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
valediction
|
|
| n．告别演说，告别词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
sane
|
|
| adj.心智健全的，神志清醒的，明智的，稳健的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
positively
|
|
| adv.明确地，断然，坚决地；实在，确实 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
vagrant
|
|
| n.流浪者，游民；adj.流浪的，漂泊不定的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
sprightly
|
|
| adj.愉快的，活泼的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
luncheon
|
|
| n.午宴，午餐，便宴 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
sipped
|
|
| v.小口喝，呷，抿( sip的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
quaffed
|
|
| v.痛饮( quaff的过去式和过去分词 )；畅饮；大口大口将…喝干；一饮而尽 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
flinch
|
|
| v.畏缩，退缩 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
mere
|
|
| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
immortal
|
|
| adj.不朽的；永生的，不死的；神的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
mar
|
|
| vt.破坏，毁坏，弄糟 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
posterity
|
|
| n.后裔，子孙，后代 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
sentimental
|
|
| adj.多愁善感的，感伤的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
prancing
|
|
| v.（马）腾跃( prance的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
repeal
|
|
| n.废止，撤消；v.废止，撤消 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
exacerbated
|
|
| v.使恶化，使加重( exacerbate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
invincible
|
|
| adj.不可征服的，难以制服的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
58
nomination
|
|
| n.提名，任命，提名权 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
59
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： |
|
|
|
|
60
replenished
|
|
| 补充( replenish的过去式和过去分词 )； 重新装满 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
61
irrelevant
|
|
| adj.不恰当的，无关系的，不相干的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
62
haughtily
|
|
| adv. 傲慢地, 高傲地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
63
aloof
|
|
| adj.远离的；冷淡的，漠不关心的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
64
idol
|
|
| n.偶像，红人，宠儿 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
65
arena
|
|
| n.竞技场，运动场所；竞争场所，舞台 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
66
lapse
|
|
| n.过失，流逝，失效，抛弃信仰，间隔；vi.堕落，停止，失效，流逝；vt.使失效 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
67
partisan
|
|
| adj.党派性的；游击队的；n.游击队员；党徒 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
68
exquisitely
|
|
| adv.精致地；强烈地；剧烈地；异常地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
69
justified
|
|
| a.正当的，有理的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
70
knight
|
|
| n.骑士，武士；爵士 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
71
grandiose
|
|
| adj.宏伟的，宏大的，堂皇的，铺张的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
72
flaunting
|
|
| adj.招摇的，扬扬得意的，夸耀的v.炫耀，夸耀( flaunt的现在分词 )；有什么能耐就施展出来 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
73
irresistible
|
|
| adj.非常诱人的，无法拒绝的，无法抗拒的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
74
dilated
|
|
| adj.加宽的，扩大的v.（使某物）扩大，膨胀，张大( dilate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
75
charade
|
|
| n.用动作等表演文字意义的字谜游戏 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
76
impatience
|
|
| n.不耐烦，急躁 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
77
undone
|
|
| a.未做完的，未完成的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
78
crimson
|
|
| n./adj.深(绯)红色(的)；vi.脸变绯红色 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
79
appalled
|
|
| v.使惊骇，使充满恐惧( appall的过去式和过去分词)adj.惊骇的；丧胆的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
80
craftsman
|
|
| n.技工，精于一门工艺的匠人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
81
labyrinth
|
|
| n.迷宫；难解的事物；迷路 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
82
buckles
|
|
| 搭扣，扣环( buckle的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
83
underlies
|
|
| v.位于或存在于（某物）之下( underlie的第三人称单数 )；构成…的基础（或起因），引起 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
84
inevitability
|
|
| n.必然性 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
85
strap
|
|
| n.皮带，带子；v.用带扣住，束牢；用绷带包扎 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
86
velvet
|
|
| n.丝绒，天鹅绒；adj.丝绒制的，柔软的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
87
affixed
|
|
| adj.[医]附着的，附着的v.附加( affix的过去式和过去分词 )；粘贴；加以；盖（印章） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
88
lustrous
|
|
| adj.有光泽的；光辉的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
89
slung
|
|
| 抛( sling的过去式和过去分词 )； 吊挂； 遣送； 押往 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
90
slaying
|
|
| 杀戮。 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
91
dangles
|
|
| 悬吊着( dangle的第三人称单数 )； 摆动不定； 用某事物诱惑…； 吊胃口 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
92
mantle
|
|
| n.斗篷，覆罩之物，罩子；v.罩住，覆盖，脸红 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
93
enveloping
|
|
| v.包围，笼罩，包住( envelop的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
94
prophesied
|
|
| v.预告，预言( prophesy的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
95
bullion
|
|
| n.金条，银条 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
96
tassel
|
|
| n.流苏，穗；v.抽穗， （玉米）长穗须 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
97
erect
|
|
| n./v.树立，建立，使竖立；adj.直立的，垂直的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
98
behold
|
|
| v.看，注视，看到 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
99
sublimate
|
|
| v.(使)升华，净化 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
100
swirling
|
|
| v.旋转，打旋( swirl的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
101
voracious
|
|
| adj.狼吞虎咽的，贪婪的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
102
evocation
|
|
| n. 引起，唤起 n. <古> 召唤，招魂 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
103
evoked
|
|
| [医]诱发的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
104
symbolic
|
|
| adj.象征性的，符号的，象征主义的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
105
obtruded
|
|
| v.强行向前，强行，强迫( obtrude的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
106
astounding
|
|
| adj.使人震惊的vt.使震惊，使大吃一惊astound的现在分词) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
107
nay
|
|
| adv.不；n.反对票，投反对票者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
108
portrayal
|
|
| n.饰演；描画 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
109
ruffled
|
|
| adj. 有褶饰边的, 起皱的 动词ruffle的过去式和过去分词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
110
descending
|
|
| n. 下行 adj. 下降的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
111
apparition
|
|
| n.幽灵，神奇的现象 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
112
eyelids
|
|
| n.眼睑( eyelid的名词复数 )；眼睛也不眨一下；不露声色；面不改色 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
113
ebbed
|
|
| （指潮水）退( ebb的过去式和过去分词 )； 落； 减少； 衰落 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
114
poignantly
|
|
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
115
thereby
|
|
| adv.因此，从而 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
116
anguish
|
|
| n.(尤指心灵上的)极度痛苦，烦恼 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
117
doom
|
|
| n.厄运，劫数；v.注定，命定 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
118
indifference
|
|
| n.不感兴趣，不关心，冷淡，不在乎 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
119
gibe
|
|
| n.讥笑；嘲弄 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
120
impulsively
|
|
| adv.冲动地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
121
beckoned
|
|
| v.（用头或手的动作）示意，召唤( beckon的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
122
standing
|
|
| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |