And tallest, Gareth, in a showerful spring
Lost footing, fell, and so was whirled away.
Or evil king before my lance if lance
Bearing all down in thy precipitancy—
And mine is living blood: thou dost His will,
The Maker’s, and not knowest, and I that know,
Have strength and wit, in my good mother’s hall
Since the good mother holds me still a child!
Good mother is bad mother unto me!
A worse were better; yet no worse would I.
Heaven yield her for it, but in me put force
To weary her ears with one continuous prayer,
Until she let me fly discaged to sweep
In ever-highering eagle-circles up
Down upon all things base, and dash them dead,
A knight of Arthur, working out his will,
With Modred hither in the summertime,
Then I so shook him in the saddle, he said,
‘Thou hast half prevailed against me,’ said so—he—
Though Modred biting his thin lips was mute,
For he is alway sullen: what care I?”
Asked, “Mother, though ye count me still the child,
Sweet mother, do ye love the child?” She laughed,
“Thou art but a wild-goose to question it.”
“Then, mother, an ye love the child,” he said,
“Being a goose and rather tame than wild,
Hear the child’s story.” “Yea, my well-beloved,
An ’twere but of the goose and golden eggs.”
Was finer gold than any goose can lay;
For this an Eagle, a royal Eagle, laid
Almost beyond eye-reach, on such a palm
And there was ever haunting round the palm
A lusty youth, but poor, who often saw
The splendour sparkling from aloft, and thought
‘An I could climb and lay my hand upon it,
But ever when he reached a hand to climb,
One, that had loved him from his childhood, caught
And stayed him, ‘Climb not lest thou break thy neck,
I charge thee by my love,’ and so the boy,
Sweet mother, neither clomb, nor brake his neck,
But brake his very heart in pining for it,
And past away.”
To whom the mother said,
“True love, sweet son, had risked himself and climbed,
And handed down the golden treasure to him.”
And Gareth answered her with kindling eyes,
“Gold?” said I gold?—ay then, why he, or she,
Or whosoe’er it was, or half the world
Had ventured—had the thing I spake of been
Whereof they forged the brand Excalibur,
And lightnings played about it in the storm,
And there were cries and clashings in the nest,
That sent him from his senses: let me go.”
“Hast thou no pity upon my loneliness?
Lies like a log, and all but smouldered out!
He fought against him in the Barons’ war,
And Arthur gave him back his territory,
His age hath slowly droopt, and now lies there
No more; nor sees, nor hears, nor speaks, nor knows.
And both thy brethren are in Arthur’s hall,
Stay therefore thou; red berries charm the bird,
In those brain-stunning shocks, and tourney-falls,
Frights to my heart; but stay: follow the deer
By these tall firs and our fast-falling burns;
Sweet is the chase: and I will seek thee out
Some comfortable bride and fair, to grace
Till falling into Lot’s forgetfulness
I know not thee, myself, nor anything.
Stay, my best son! ye are yet more boy than man.”
Then Gareth, “An ye hold me yet for child,
Hear yet once more the story of the child.
For, mother, there was once a King, like ours.
The prince his heir, when tall and marriageable,
Asked for a bride; and thereupon the King
Set two before him. One was fair, strong, armed—
But to be won by force—and many men
Desired her; one good lack, no man desired.
And these were the conditions of the King:
That save he won the first by force, he needs
That evermore she longed to hide herself,
Nor fronted man or woman, eye to eye—
And one—they called her Fame; and one,—O Mother,
How can ye keep me tethered to you—Shame.
Man am I grown, a man’s work must I do.
Follow the deer? follow the Christ, the King,
Live pure, speak true, right wrong, follow the King—
Else, wherefore born?”
To whom the mother said
“Sweet son, for there be many who deem him not,
Or will not deem him, wholly proven King—
Albeit in mine own heart I knew him King,
When I was frequent with him in my youth,
And heard him Kingly speak, and doubted him
No more than he, himself; but felt him mine,
Life, limbs, for one that is not proven King?
Stay, till the cloud that settles round his birth
Hath lifted but a little. Stay, sweet son.”
And Gareth answered quickly, “Not an hour,
So that ye yield me—I will walk through fire,
Mother, to gain it—your full leave to go.
Not proven, who swept the dust of ruined Rome
From off the threshold of the realm, and crushed
The Idolaters, and made the people free?
Who should be King save him who makes us free?”
So when the Queen, who long had sought in vain
To break him from the intent to which he grew,
Found her son’s will unwaveringly one,
Ay, go then, an ye must: only one proof,
Before thou ask the King to make thee knight,
Of thine obedience and thy love to me,
Thy mother,—I demand.
And Gareth cried,
“A hard one, or a hundred, so I go.
Nay—quick! the proof to prove me to the quick!”
But slowly spake the mother looking at him,
“Prince, thou shalt go disguised to Arthur’s hall,
And hire thyself to serve for meats and drinks
And those that hand the dish across the bar.
Nor shalt thou tell thy name to anyone.
And thou shalt serve a twelvemonth and a day.”
For so the Queen believed that when her son
Her own true Gareth was too princely-proud
Closed in her castle from the sound of arms.
Silent awhile was Gareth, then replied,
And I shall see the jousts. Thy son am I,
And since thou art my mother, must obey.
I therefore yield me freely to thy will;
For hence will I, disguised, and hire myself
To serve with scullions and with kitchen-knaves;
Nor tell my name to any—no, not the King.”
Gareth awhile lingered. The mother’s eye
Full of the wistful fear that he would go,
And turning toward him wheresoe’er he turned,
Perplext his outward purpose, till an hour,
When wakened by the wind which with full voice
That still had tended on him from his birth,
Before the wakeful mother heard him, went.
The three were clad like tillers of the soil.
Southward they set their faces. The birds made
The damp hill-slopes were quickened into green,
For it was past the time of Easterday.
So, when their feet were planted on the plain
That broadened toward the base of Camelot,
Far off they saw the silver-misty morn
Rolling her smoke about the Royal mount,
That rose between the forest and the field.
At times the summit of the high city flashed;
Only, that opened on the field below:
Anon, the whole fair city had disappeared.
Then those who went with Gareth were amazed,
One crying, “Let us go no further, lord.
Here is a city of Enchanters, built
By fairy Kings.” The second echoed him,
“Lord, we have heard from our wise man at home
But only changeling out of Fairyland,
Who drave the heathen hence by sorcery
“Lord, there is no such city anywhere,
But all a vision.”
Gareth answered them
With laughter, swearing he had glamour enow
In his own blood, his princedom, youth and hopes,
And there was no gate like it under heaven.
For barefoot on the keystone, which was lined
The Lady of the Lake stood: all her dress
Wept from her sides as water flowing away;
But like the cross her great and goodly arms
Stretched under the cornice and upheld:
And drops of water fell from either hand;
And down from one a sword was hung, from one
A censer, either worn with wind and storm;
And o’er her breast floated the sacred fish;
And in the space to left of her, and right,
New things and old co-twisted, as if Time
Were nothing, so inveterately70, that men
Were giddy gazing there; and over all
High on the top were those three Queens, the friends
Of Arthur, who should help him at his need.
Then those with Gareth for so long a space
Stared at the figures, that at last it seemed
The dragon-boughts and elvish emblemings
And Gareth likewise on them fixt his eyes
So long, that even to him they seemed to move.
Back from the gate started the three, to whom
From out thereunder came an ancient man,
Long-bearded, saying, “Who be ye, my sons?”
Then Gareth, “We be tillers of the soil,
The glories of our King: but these, my men,
Doubt if the King be King at all, or come
From Fairyland; and whether this be built
By magic, and by fairy Kings and Queens;
Or whether there be any city at all,
Or all a vision: and this music now
Hath scared them both, but tell thou these the truth.”
Then that old Seer made answer playing on him
And saying, “Son, I have seen the good ship sail
Keel upward, and mast downward, in the heavens,
And solid turrets topsy-turvy in air:
And here is truth; but an it please thee not,
Take thou the truth as thou hast told it me.
For truly as thou sayest, a Fairy King
And Fairy Queens have built the city, son;
They came from out a sacred mountain-cleft
For there is nothing in it as it seems
Saving the King; though some there be that hold
The King a shadow, and the city real:
Yet take thou heed of him, for, so thou pass
Beneath this archway, then wilt thou become
A thrall to his enchantments81, for the King
A man should not be bound by, yet the which
Without, among the cattle of the field.
For an ye heard a music, like enow
They are building still, seeing the city is built
To music, therefore never built at all,
And therefore built for ever.”
Gareth spake
That looks as white as utter truth, and seems
Wellnigh as long as thou art statured tall!
Why mockest thou the stranger that hath been
To thee fair-spoken?”
But the Seer replied,
‘Confusion, and illusion, and relation,
I mock thee not but as thou mockest me,
And all that see thee, for thou art not who
Thou seemest, but I know thee who thou art.
And now thou goest up to mock the King,
Unmockingly the mocker ending here
Turned to the right, and past along the plain;
Whom Gareth looking after said, “My men,
Our one white lie sits like a little ghost
Here on the threshold of our enterprise.
Let love be blamed for it, not she, nor I:
With all good cheer
He spake and laughed, then entered with his twain
Camelot, a city of shadowy palaces
Of ancient kings who did their days in stone;
Which Merlin’s hand, the Mage at Arthur’s court,
Knowing all arts, had touched, and everywhere
And ever and anon a knight would pass
Outward, or inward to the hall: his arms
Clashed; and the sound was good to Gareth’s ear.
And all about a healthful people stept
As in the presence of a gracious king.
A voice, the voice of Arthur, and beheld
The splendour of the presence of the King
But felt his young heart hammering in his ears,
And thought, “For this half-shadow of a lie
Yet pressing on, though all in fear to find
Sir Gawain or Sir Modred, saw nor one
Nor other, but in all the listening eyes
Clear honour shining like the dewy star
Of dawn, and faith in their great King, with pure
Affection, and the light of victory,
And glory gained, and evermore to gain.
Then came a widow crying to the King,
From my dead lord a field with violence:
Yet, for the field was pleasant in our eyes,
We yielded not; and then he reft us of it
Perforce, and left us neither gold nor field.”
Said Arthur, “Whether would ye? gold or field?”
To whom the woman weeping, “Nay, my lord,
The field was pleasant in my husband’s eye.”
And Arthur, “Have thy pleasant field again,
And thrice the gold for Uther’s use thereof,
According to the years. No boon is here,
But justice, so thy say be proven true.
Accursed, who from the wrongs his father did
Would shape himself a right!”
And while she past,
Came yet another widow crying to him,
“A boon, Sir King! Thine enemy, King, am I.
With thine own hand thou slewest my dear lord,
A knight of Uther in the Barons’ war,
When Lot and many another rose and fought
Against thee, saying thou wert basely born.
Yet lo! my husband’s brother had my son
Thralled in his castle, and hath starved him dead;
And standeth seized of that inheritance
Which thou that slewest the sire hast left the son.
So though I scarce can ask it thee for hate,
Grant me some knight to do the battle for me,
Then strode a good knight forward, crying to him,
Then came Sir Kay, the seneschal, and cried,
“A boon, Sir King! even that thou grant her none,
This railer, that hath mocked thee in full hall—
None; or the wholesome boon of gyve and gag.”
But Arthur, “We sit King, to help the wronged
Through all our realm. The woman loves her lord.
Peace to thee, woman, with thy loves and hates!
Lest that rough humour of the kings of old
Return upon me! Thou that art her kin,
Go likewise; lay him low and slay him not,
But bring him here, that I may judge the right,
According to the justice of the King:
Then, be he guilty, by that deathless King
Who lived and died for men, the man shall die.”
Then came in hall the messenger of Mark,
A name of evil savour in the land,
The Cornish king. In either hand he bore
What dazzled all, and shone far-off as shines
A field of charlock in the sudden sun
Between two showers, a cloth of palest gold,
Which down he laid before the throne, and knelt,
Was even upon his way to Camelot;
For having heard that Arthur of his grace
Had made his goodly cousin, Tristram, knight,
And, for himself was of the greater state,
Being a king, he trusted his liege-lord
Would yield him this large honour all the more;
So prayed him well to accept this cloth of gold,
In pieces, and so cast it on the hearth.
An oak-tree smouldered there. “The goodly knight!
What! shall the shield of Mark stand among these?”
For, midway down the side of that long hall
A stately pile,—whereof along the front,
Rose, and high-arching overbrowed the hearth.
And under every shield a knight was named:
For this was Arthur’s custom in his hall;
When some good knight had done one noble deed,
His arms were carven only; but if twain
His arms were blazoned also; but if none,
The shield was blank and bare without a sign
Saving the name beneath; and Gareth saw
The shield of Gawain blazoned rich and bright,
And Modred’s blank as death; and Arthur cried
To rend the cloth and cast it on the hearth.
“More like are we to reave him of his crown
Than make him knight because men call him king.
The kings we found, ye know we stayed their hands
From war among themselves, but left them kings;
Among us, and they sit within our hall.
And, seeing he hath sent us cloth of gold,
Return, and meet, and hold him from our eyes,
Lest we should lap him up in cloth of lead,
Silenced for ever—craven—a man of plots,
Craft, poisonous counsels, wayside ambushings—
No fault of thine: let Kay the seneschal
Look to thy wants, and send thee satisfied—
Accursed, who strikes nor lets the hand be seen!”
And evermore a knight would ride away.
Last, Gareth leaning both hands heavily
Down on the shoulders of the twain, his men,
Approached between them toward the King, and asked,
“A boon, Sir King (his voice was all ashamed),
For see ye not how weak and hungerworn
I seem—leaning on these? grant me to serve
For meat and drink among thy kitchen-knaves
A twelvemonth and a day, nor seek my name.
Hereafter I will fight.”
To him the King,
“A goodly youth and worth a goodlier boon!
But so thou wilt no goodlier, then must Kay,
The master of the meats and drinks, be thine.”
“Lo ye now!
This fellow hath broken from some Abbey, where,
God wot, he had not beef and brewis enow,
However that might chance! but an he work,
Sleuth-hound thou knowest, and gray, and all the hounds;
A horse thou knowest, a man thou dost not know:
Broad brows and fair, a fluent hair and fine,
Large, fair and fine!—Some young lad’s mystery—
But, or from sheepcot or king’s hall, the boy
Is noble-natured. Treat him with all grace,
Lest he should come to shame thy judging of him.”
Then Kay, “What murmurest thou of mystery?
Think ye this fellow will poison the King’s dish?
Nay, for he spake too fool-like: mystery!
Tut, an the lad were noble, he had asked
Sir Fine-face, Sir Fair-hands? but see thou to it
That thine own fineness, Lancelot, some fine day
So Gareth all for glory underwent
Ate with young lads his portion by the door,
And couched at night with grimy kitchen-knaves.
And Lancelot ever spake him pleasantly,
But Kay the seneschal, who loved him not,
Beyond his comrade of the hearth, and set
Or grosser tasks; and Gareth bowed himself
With all obedience to the King, and wrought
All kind of service with a noble ease
That graced the lowliest act in doing it.
And one would praise the love that linkt the King
And Lancelot—how the King had saved his life
In battle twice, and Lancelot once the King’s—
For Lancelot was the first in Tournament,
Gareth was glad. Or if some other told,
How once the wandering forester at dawn,
On Caer-Eryri’s highest found the King,
A naked babe, of whom the Prophet spake,
He passes and is healed and cannot die”—
Gareth was glad. But if their talk were foul,
Or carol some old roundelay, and so loud
That first they mocked, but, after, reverenced150 him.
Or Gareth telling some prodigious151 tale
Of knights, who sliced a red life-bubbling way
Through twenty folds of twisted dragon, held
All in a gap-mouthed circle his good mates
Lying or sitting round him, idle hands,
Charmed; till Sir Kay, the seneschal, would come
Blustering152 upon them, like a sudden wind
Among dead leaves, and drive them all apart.
Or when the thralls had sport among themselves,
So there were any trial of mastery,
He, by two yards in casting bar or stone
So that Sir Kay nodded him leave to go,
Clash like the coming and retiring wave,
And the spear spring, and good horse reel, the boy
So for a month he wrought among the thralls;
But in the weeks that followed, the good Queen,
And saddening in her childless castle, sent,
Between the in-crescent and de-crescent moon,
With whom he used to play at tourney once,
When both were children, and in lonely haunts
And each at either dash from either end—
Shame never made girl redder than Gareth joy.
He laughed; he sprang. “Out of the smoke, at once
I leap from Satan’s foot to Peter’s knee—
These news be mine, none other’s—nay, the King’s—
The King alone, and found, and told him all.
“I have staggered thy strong Gawain in a tilt
For pastime; yea, he said it: joust can I.
Make me thy knight—in secret! let my name
Be hidden, and give me the first quest, I spring
Like flame from ashes.”
Here the King’s calm eye
Fell on, and checked, and made him flush, and bow
Lowly, to kiss his hand, who answered him,
“Son, the good mother let me know thee here,
And sent her wish that I would yield thee thine.
Make thee my knight? my knights are sworn to vows
Of utter hardihood, utter gentleness,
And, loving, utter faithfulness in love,
And uttermost obedience to the King.”
Then Gareth, lightly springing from his knees,
“My King, for hardihood I can promise thee.
For uttermost obedience make demand
Of whom ye gave me to, the Seneschal,
And as for love, God wot, I love not yet,
But love I shall, God willing.”
And the King
“Make thee my knight in secret? yea, but he,
Our noblest brother, and our truest man,
And one with me in all, he needs must know.”
“Let Lancelot know, my King, let Lancelot know,
Thy noblest and thy truest!”
And the King—
“But wherefore would ye men should wonder at you?
Nay, rather for the sake of me, their King,
And the deed’s sake my knighthood do the deed,
Than to be noised of.”
Merrily Gareth asked,
“Have I not earned my cake in baking of it?
Let be my name until I make my name!
My deeds will speak: it is but for a day.”
Smiled the great King, and half-unwillingly
Loving his lusty youthhood yielded to him.
“I have given him the first quest: he is not proven.
Look therefore when he calls for this in hall,
Thou get to horse and follow him far away.
Cover the lions on thy shield, and see
Then that same day there past into the hall
A damsel of high lineage, and a brow
May-blossom, and a cheek of apple-blossom,
Hawk-eyes; and lightly was her slender nose
She into hall past with her page and cried,
By bandits, everyone that owns a tower
The Lord for half a league. Why sit ye there?
Rest would I not, Sir King, an I were king,
Till even the lonest hold were all as free
From cursed bloodshed, as thine altar-cloth
From that best blood it is a sin to spill.”
“Comfort thyself,” said Arthur. “I nor mine
Rest: so my knighthood keep the vows they swore,
The wastest moorland of our realm shall be
Safe, damsel, as the centre of this hall.
What is thy name? thy need?”
“My name?” she said—
“Lynette my name; noble; my need, a knight
To combat for my sister, Lyonors,
A lady of high lineage, of great lands,
Runs in three loops about her living-place;
And o’er it are three passings, and three knights
Defend the passings, brethren, and a fourth
And of that four the mightiest, holds her stayed
To break her will, and make her wed with him:
To do the battle with him, thy chief man
Then wed, with glory: but she will not wed
Save whom she loveth, or a holy life.
Now therefore have I come for Lancelot.”
Then Arthur mindful of Sir Gareth asked,
“Damsel, ye know this Order lives to crush
All wrongers of the Realm. But say, these four,
Who be they? What the fashion of the men?”
“They be of foolish fashion, O Sir King,
The fashion of that old knight-errantry
Who ride abroad, and do but what they will;
As have nor law nor king; and three of these
Proud in their fantasy call themselves the Day,
Morning-Star, and Noon-Sun, and Evening-Star,
The fourth, who alway rideth armed in black,
He names himself the Night and oftener Death,
And bears a skeleton figured on his arms,
To show that who may slay or scape the three,
Slain by himself, shall enter endless night.
And therefore am I come for Lancelot.”
Hereat Sir Gareth called from where he rose,
“A boon, Sir King—this quest!” then—for he marked
And mighty through thy meats and drinks am I,
And I can topple over a hundred such.
Thy promise, King,” and Arthur glancing at him,
And pardonable, worthy to be knight—
Go therefore,” and all hearers were amazed.
“Fie on thee, King! I asked for thy chief knight,
And thou hast given me but a kitchen-knave.”
Then ere a man in hall could stay her, turned,
Fled down the lane of access to the King,
The weird white gate, and paused without, beside
The field of tourney, murmuring “kitchen-knave.”
Now two great entries opened from the hall,
At one end one, that gave upon a range
Of level pavement where the King would pace
At sunrise, gazing over plain and wood;
And down from this a lordly stairway sloped
Till lost in blowing trees and tops of towers;
But one was counter to the hearth, and rose
High that the highest-crested helm could ride
Therethrough nor graze: and by this entry fled
The damsel in her wrath, and on to this
Sir Gareth strode, and saw without the door
King Arthur’s gift, the worth of half a town,
A warhorse of the best, and near it stood
The two that out of north had followed him:
The horse, the spear; whereat Sir Gareth loosed
A cloak that dropt from collar-bone to heel,
A cloth of roughest web, and cast it down,
And from it like a fuel-smothered fire,
That lookt half-dead, brake bright, and flashed as those
Dull-coated things, that making slide apart
Their dusk wing-cases, all beneath there burns
A jewelled harness, ere they pass and fly.
So Gareth ere he parted flashed in arms.
Then as he donned the helm, and took the shield
And mounted horse and graspt a spear, of grain
Storm-strengthened on a windy site, and tipt
The people, while from out of kitchen came
The thralls in throng, and seeing who had worked
Lustier than any, and whom they could but love,
Mounted in arms, threw up their caps and cried,
“God bless the King, and all his fellowship!”
And on through lanes of shouting Gareth rode
Down the slope street, and past without the gate.
So Gareth past with joy; but as the cur
Pluckt from the cur he fights with, ere his cause
Be cooled by fighting, follows, being named,
Remembering, so Sir Kay beside the door
Muttered in scorn of Gareth whom he used
To harry and hustle.
“Bound upon a quest
With horse and arms—the King hath past his time—
My scullion knave! Thralls to your work again,
Will there be dawn in West and eve in East?
Begone!—my knave!—belike and like enow
So shook his wits they wander in his prime—
Crazed! How the villain lifted up his voice,
Till peacocked up with Lancelot’s noticing.
Well—I will after my loud knave, and learn
Whether he know me for his master yet.
Out of the smoke he came, and so my lance
Hold, by God’s grace, he shall into the mire—
Into the smoke again.”
But Lancelot said,
“Kay, wherefore wilt thou go against the King,
For that did never he whereon ye rail,
Abide: take counsel; for this lad is great
And lusty, and knowing both of lance and sword.”
“Tut, tell not me,” said Kay, “ye are overfine
Then mounted, on through silent faces rode
Down the slope city, and out beyond the gate.
But by the field of tourney lingering yet
Muttered the damsel, “Wherefore did the King
Scorn me? for, were Sir Lancelot lackt, at least
He might have yielded to me one of those
Who tilt for lady’s love and glory here,
Rather than—O sweet heaven! O fie upon him—
His kitchen-knave.”
To whom Sir Gareth drew
(And there were none but few goodlier than he)
Shining in arms, “Damsel, the quest is mine.
Lead, and I follow.” She thereat, as one
That smells a foul-fleshed agaric in the holt,
Or shrew, or weasel, nipt her slender nose
Avoid, thou smellest all of kitchen-grease.
And look who comes behind,” for there was Kay.
“Knowest thou not me? thy master? I am Kay.
We lack thee by the hearth.”
And Gareth to him,
“Master no more! too well I know thee, ay—
The most ungentle knight in Arthur’s hall.”
“Have at thee then,” said Kay: they shocked, and Kay
Fell shoulder-slipt, and Gareth cried again,
“Lead, and I follow,” and fast away she fled.
Behind her, and the heart of her good horse
Was nigh to burst with violence of the beat,
“What doest thou, scullion, in my fellowship?
Deem’st thou that I accept thee aught the more
Or love thee better, that by some device
Full cowardly, or by mere unhappiness,
Thou hast overthrown201 and slain thy master—thou!—
Thou smellest all of kitchen as before.”
“Damsel,” Sir Gareth answered gently, “say
Whate’er ye will, but whatsoe’er ye say,
I leave not till I finish this fair quest,
Or die therefore.”
“Ay, wilt thou finish it?
Sweet lord, how like a noble knight he talks!
But, knave, anon thou shalt be met with, knave,
And then by such a one that thou for all
The kitchen brewis that was ever supt
Shalt not once dare to look him in the face.”
“I shall assay,” said Gareth with a smile
That maddened her, and away she flashed again
Down the long avenues of a boundless wood,
And Gareth following was again beknaved.
“Sir Kitchen-knave, I have missed the only way
Where Arthur’s men are set along the wood;
The wood is nigh as full of thieves as leaves:
If both be slain, I am rid of thee; but yet,
Sir Scullion, canst thou use that spit of thine?
Fight, an thou canst: I have missed the only way.”
So till the dusk that followed evensong
Then after one long slope was mounted, saw,
Bowl-shaped, through tops of many thousand pines
A gloomy-gladed hollow slowly sink
To westward—in the deeps whereof a mere,
Under the half-dead sunset glared; and shouts
Flying from out of the black wood, and crying,
“They have bound my lord to cast him in the mere.”
Then Gareth, “Bound am I to right the wronged,
And when the damsel spake contemptuously,
“Lead, and I follow,” Gareth cried again,
“Follow, I lead!” so down among the pines
And mid-thigh-deep in bulrushes and reed,
Saw six tall men haling a seventh along,
A stone about his neck to drown him in it.
Three with good blows he quieted, but three
Fled through the pines; and Gareth loosed the stone
From off his neck, then in the mere beside
Tumbled it; oilily bubbled up the mere.
Last, Gareth loosed his bonds and on free feet
To catch my thief, and then like vermin here
Drown him, and with a stone about his neck;
And under this wan water many of them
Lie rotting, but at night let go the stone,
And rise, and flickering212 in a grimly light
Dance on the mere. Good now, ye have saved a life
Worth somewhat as the cleanser of this wood.
And fain would I reward thee worshipfully.
What guerdon will ye?”
Gareth sharply spake,
“None! for the deed’s sake have I done the deed,
In uttermost obedience to the King.
But wilt thou yield this damsel harbourage?”
Whereat the Baron saying, “I well believe
You be of Arthur’s Table,” a light laugh
Broke from Lynette, “Ay, truly of a truth,
And in a sort, being Arthur’s kitchen-knave!—
But deem not I accept thee aught the more,
Scullion, for running sharply with thy spit
Nay—for thou smellest of the kitchen still.
But an this lord will yield us harbourage,
Well.”
So she spake. A league beyond the wood,
His towers where that day a feast had been
Held in high hall, and many a viand left,
And there they placed a peacock in his pride
Before the damsel, and the Baron set
Gareth beside her, but at once she rose.
“Meseems, that here is much discourtesy,
Setting this knave, Lord Baron, at my side.
Hear me—this morn I stood in Arthur’s hall,
And prayed the King would grant me Lancelot
To fight the brotherhood218 of Day and Night—
The last a monster unsubduable
Of any save of him for whom I called—
‘The quest is mine; thy kitchen-knave am I,
And mighty through thy meats and drinks am I.’
Then Arthur all at once gone mad replies,
‘Go therefore,’ and so gives the quest to him—
Him—here—a villain fitter to stick swine
Than ride abroad redressing220 women’s wrong,
Or sit beside a noble gentlewoman.”
Then half-ashamed and part-amazed, the lord
Now looked at one and now at other, left
The damsel by the peacock in his pride,
And, seating Gareth at another board,
Sat down beside him, ate and then began.
“Friend, whether thou be kitchen-knave, or not,
Or whether it be the maiden’s fantasy,
And whether she be mad, or else the King,
Or both or neither, or thyself be mad,
I ask not: but thou strikest a strong stroke,
For strong thou art and goodly therewithal,
And saver of my life; and therefore now,
For here be mighty men to joust with, weigh
Whether thou wilt not with thy damsel back
Thy pardon; I but speak for thine avail,
The saver of my life.”
And Gareth said,
“Full pardon, but I follow up the quest,
Despite of Day and Night and Death and Hell.”
So when, next morn, the lord whose life he saved
Had, some brief space, conveyed them on their way
And left them with God-speed, Sir Gareth spake,
“I fly no more: I allow thee for an hour.
In time of flood. Nay, furthermore, methinks
Some ruth is mine for thee. Back wilt thou, fool?
For hard by here is one will overthrow
And slay thee: then will I to court again,
And shame the King for only yielding me
My champion from the ashes of his hearth.”
To whom Sir Gareth answered courteously223,
“Say thou thy say, and I will do my deed.
Allow me for mine hour, and thou wilt find
My fortunes all as fair as hers who lay
Then to the shore of one of those long loops
Wherethrough the serpent river coiled, they came.
Rough-thicketed were the banks and steep; the stream
Full, narrow; this a bridge of single arc
Took at a leap; and on the further side
Arose a silk pavilion, gay with gold
Unarmed, and calling, “Damsel, is this he,
The champion thou hast brought from Arthur’s hall?
For whom we let thee pass.” “Nay, nay,” she said,
“Sir Morning-Star. The King in utter scorn
His kitchen-knave: and look thou to thyself:
See that he fall not on thee suddenly,
And slay thee unarmed: he is not knight but knave.”
Then at his call, “O daughters of the Dawn,
And servants of the Morning-Star, approach,
Arm me,” from out the silken curtain-folds
Bare-footed and bare-headed three fair girls
Like sparkles in the stone Avanturine.
These armed him in blue arms, and gave a shield
Blue also, and thereon the morning star.
And Gareth silent gazed upon the knight,
Who stood a moment, ere his horse was brought,
Glorying; and in the stream beneath him, shone
The gay pavilion and the naked feet,
His arms, the rosy raiment, and the star.
Then she that watched him, “Wherefore stare ye so?
Thou shakest in thy fear: there yet is time:
Flee down the valley before he get to horse.
Who will cry shame? Thou art not knight but knave.”
Said Gareth, “Damsel, whether knave or knight,
Far liefer had I fight a score of times
Fair words were best for him who fights for thee;
But truly foul are better, for they send
That strength of anger through mine arms, I know
That I shall overthrow him.”
And he that bore
The star, when mounted, cried from o’er the bridge,
“A kitchen-knave, and sent in scorn of me!
Such fight not I, but answer scorn with scorn.
For this were shame to do him further wrong
Than set him on his feet, and take his horse
And arms, and so return him to the King.
Come, therefore, leave thy lady lightly, knave.
Avoid: for it beseemeth not a knave
To ride with such a lady.”
“Dog, thou liest.
I spring from loftier lineage than thine own.”
Shocked on the central bridge, and either spear
Beyond his horse’s crupper and the bridge,
Fell, as if dead; but quickly rose and drew,
He drave his enemy backward down the bridge,
The damsel crying, “Well-stricken, kitchen-knave!”
Till Gareth’s shield was cloven; but one stroke
Then cried the fallen, “Take not my life: I yield.”
And Gareth, “So this damsel ask it of me
Good—I accord it easily as a grace.”
She reddening, “Insolent scullion: I of thee?
I bound to thee for any favour asked!”
“Then he shall die.” And Gareth there unlaced
One nobler than thyself.” “Damsel, thy charge
Thy life is thine at her command. Arise
And quickly pass to Arthur’s hall, and say
His kitchen-knave hath sent thee. See thou crave
His pardon for thy breaking of his laws.
Myself, when I return, will plead for thee.
Thy shield is mine—farewell; and, damsel, thou,
Lead, and I follow.”
And fast away she fled.
Then when he came upon her, spake, “Methought,
Knave, when I watched thee striking on the bridge
The savour of thy kitchen came upon me
A little faintlier: but the wind hath changed:
Whom thou by sorcery or unhappiness
‘O morning star that smilest in the blue,
O star, my morning dream hath proven true,
Smile sweetly, thou! my love hath smiled on me.’
“But thou begone, take counsel, and away,
For hard by here is one that guards a ford—
Will pay thee all thy wages, and to boot.
Care not for shame: thou art not knight but knave.”
To whom Sir Gareth answered, laughingly,
“Parables? Hear a parable of the knave.
When I was kitchen-knave among the rest
Fierce was the hearth, and one of my co-mates
Owned a rough dog, to whom he cast his coat,
And such a coat art thou, and thee the King
Gave me to guard, and such a dog am I,
To worry, and not to flee—and—knight or knave—
The knave that doth thee service as full knight
Is all as good, meseems, as any knight
Toward thy sister’s freeing.”
“Ay, Sir Knave!
Ay, knave, because thou strikest as a knight,
Being but knave, I hate thee all the more.”
“Fair damsel, you should worship me the more,
That, being but knave, I throw thine enemies.”
“Ay, ay,” she said, “but thou shalt meet thy match.”
So when they touched the second river-loop,
Huge on a huge red horse, and all in mail
Beyond a raging shallow. As if the flower,
That blows a globe of after arrowlets,
Ten thousand-fold had grown, flashed the fierce shield,
Before them when he turned from watching him.
He from beyond the roaring shallow roared,
“What doest thou, brother, in my marches here?”
“Here is a kitchen-knave from Arthur’s hall
Hath overthrown thy brother, and hath his arms.”
“Ugh!” cried the Sun, and vizoring up a red
Pushed horse across the foamings of the ford,
Whom Gareth met midstream: no room was there
For lance or tourney-skill: four strokes they struck
With sword, and these were mighty; the new knight
Had fear he might be shamed; but as the Sun
Descended, and the Sun was washed away.
Then Gareth laid his lance athwart the ford;
So drew him home; but he that fought no more,
As being all bone-battered on the rock,
Yielded; and Gareth sent him to the King,
“Myself when I return will plead for thee.”
“Lead, and I follow.” Quietly she led.
“Hath not the good wind, damsel, changed again?”
“Nay, not a point: nor art thou victor here.
His horse thereon stumbled—ay, for I saw it.
“‘O Sun’ (not this strong fool whom thou, Sir Knave,
Hast overthrown through mere unhappiness),
O moon, that layest all to sleep again,
Shine sweetly: twice my love hath smiled on me.’
What knowest thou of lovesong or of love?
Nay, nay, God wot, so thou wert nobly born,
Thou hast a pleasant presence. Yea, perchance,—
“‘O dewy flowers that open to the sun,
O dewy flowers that close when day is done,
Blow sweetly: twice my love hath smiled on me.’
“What knowest thou of flowers, except, belike,
Who lent me thee, the flower of kitchendom,
A foolish love for flowers? what stick ye round
The pasty? wherewithal deck the boar’s head?
Flowers? nay, the boar hath rosemaries and bay.
“‘O birds, that warble to the morning sky,
O birds that warble as the day goes by,
Sing sweetly: twice my love hath smiled on me.’
“What knowest thou of birds, lark, mavis, merle,
May-music growing with the growing light,
(So runs thy fancy) these be for the spit,
Larded thy last, except thou turn and fly.
There stands the third fool of their allegory.”
For there beyond a bridge of treble bow,
All in a rose-red from the west, and all
Naked it seemed, and glowing in the broad
Deep-dimpled current underneath260, the knight,
That named himself the Star of Evening, stood.
And Gareth, “Wherefore waits the madman there
Naked in open dayshine?” “Nay,” she cried,
“Not naked, only wrapt in hardened skins
His armour off him, these will turn the blade.”
Then the third brother shouted o’er the bridge,
“O brother-star, why shine ye here so low?
The damsel’s champion?” and the damsel cried,
“No star of thine, but shot from Arthur’s heaven
With all disaster unto thine and thee!
For both thy younger brethren have gone down
Before this youth; and so wilt thou, Sir Star;
Art thou not old?”
“Old, damsel, old and hard,
Old, with the might and breath of twenty boys.”
But that same strength which threw the Morning Star
Can throw the Evening.”
Then that other blew
A hard and deadly note upon the horn.
“Approach and arm me!” With slow steps from out
An old storm-beaten, russet, many-stained
Pavilion, forth a grizzled damsel came,
And armed him in old arms, and brought a helm
And gave a shield whereon the Star of Even
Half-tarnished and half-bright, his emblem, shone.
But when it glittered o’er the saddle-bow,
They madly hurled together on the bridge;
But up like fire he started: and as oft
As Gareth brought him grovelling on his knees,
So many a time he vaulted up again;
Till Gareth panted hard, and his great heart,
Foredooming all his trouble was in vain,
Laboured within him, for he seemed as one
That all in later, sadder age begins
To war against ill uses of a life,
But these from all his life arise, and cry,
“Thou hast made us lords, and canst not put us down!”
He half despairs; so Gareth seemed to strike
Vainly, the damsel clamouring all the while,
“Well done, knave-knight, well-stricken, O good knight-knave—
O knave, as noble as any of all the knights—
Shame me not, shame me not. I have prophesied—
Strike, thou art worthy of the Table Round—
His arms are old, he trusts the hardened skin—
Strike—strike—the wind will never change again.”
But lashed in vain against the hardened skin,
And could not wholly bring him under, more
Than loud Southwesterns, rolling ridge on ridge,
For ever; till at length Sir Gareth’s brand
“I have thee now;” but forth that other sprang,
Around him, till he felt, despite his mail,
Strangled, but straining even his uttermost
Cast, and so hurled him headlong o’er the bridge
Down to the river, sink or swim, and cried,
“Lead, and I follow.”
But the damsel said,
“I lead no longer; ride thou at my side;
Thou art the kingliest of all kitchen-knaves.
“‘O trefoil, sparkling on the rainy plain,
O rainbow with three colours after rain,
Shine sweetly: thrice my love hath smiled on me.’
“Sir,—and, good faith, I fain had added—Knight,
But that I heard thee call thyself a knave,—
Missaid thee; noble I am; and thought the King
Scorned me and mine; and now thy pardon, friend,
For thou hast ever answered courteously,
And wholly bold thou art, and meek withal
As any of Arthur’s best, but, being knave,
“Damsel,” he said, “you be not all to blame,
Saving that you mistrusted our good King
Would handle scorn, or yield you, asking, one
Not fit to cope your quest. You said your say;
Mine answer was my deed. Good sooth! I hold
He scarce is knight, yea but half-man, nor meet
To fight for gentle damsel, he, who lets
His heart be stirred with any foolish heat
At any gentle damsel’s waywardness.
Shamed? care not! thy foul sayings fought for me:
And seeing now thy words are fair, methinks
There rides no knight, not Lancelot, his great self,
Nigh upon that hour
Lets down his other leg, and stretching, dreams
Of goodly supper in the distant pool,
Then turned the noble damsel smiling at him,
Where bread and baken meats and good red wine
Of Southland, which the Lady Lyonors
Had sent her coming champion, waited him.
Anon they past a narrow comb wherein
Whose holy hand hath fashioned on the rock
The war of Time against the soul of man.
And yon four fools have sucked their allegory
From these damp walls, and taken but the form.
Know ye not these?” and Gareth lookt and read—
In letters like to those the vexillary
Hath left crag-carven o’er the streaming Gelt—
“PHOSPHORUS,” then “MERIDIES”—“HESPERUS”—
“NOX”—“MORS,” beneath five figures, armed men,
And running down the Soul, a Shape that fled
With broken wings, torn raiment and loose hair,
For help and shelter to the hermit’s cave.
“Follow the faces, and we find it. Look,
Who comes behind?”
For one—delayed at first
To Camelot, then by what thereafter chanced,
The damsel’s headlong error through the wood—
Sir Lancelot, having swum the river-loops—
His blue shield-lions covered—softly drew
Behind the twain, and when he saw the star
Gleam, on Sir Gareth’s turning to him, cried,
And Gareth crying pricked against the cry;
But when they closed—in a moment—at one touch
Of that skilled spear, the wonder of the world—
Went sliding down so easily, and fell,
That when he found the grass within his hands
He laughed; the laughter jarred upon Lynette:
Harshly she asked him, “Shamed and overthrown,
And tumbled back into the kitchen-knave,
Why laugh ye? that ye blew your boast in vain?”
“Nay, noble damsel, but that I, the son
Of old King Lot and good Queen Bellicent,
And victor of the bridges and the ford,
And knight of Arthur, here lie thrown by whom
I know not, all through mere unhappiness—
Device and sorcery and unhappiness—
Out, sword; we are thrown!” And Lancelot answered, “Prince,
O Gareth—through the mere unhappiness
Of one who came to help thee, not to harm,
Lancelot, and all as glad to find thee whole,
As on the day when Arthur knighted him.”
Then Gareth, “Thou—Lancelot!—thine the hand
That threw me? An some chance to mar the boast
Thy brethren of thee make—which could not chance—
Shamed had I been, and sad—O Lancelot—thou!”
Whereat the maiden, petulant, “Lancelot,
Why came ye not, when called? and wherefore now
Come ye, not called? I gloried in my knave,
Who being still rebuked, would answer still
Courteous as any knight—but now, if knight,
The marvel dies, and leaves me fooled and tricked,
And only wondering wherefore played upon:
And doubtful whether I and mine be scorned.
Where should be truth if not in Arthur’s hall,
In Arthur’s presence? Knight, knave, prince and fool,
I hate thee and for ever.”
And Lancelot said,
“Blessed be thou, Sir Gareth! knight art thou
To the King’s best wish. O damsel, be you wise
To call him shamed, who is but overthrown?
Thrown have I been, nor once, but many a time.
Victor from vanquished282 issues at the last,
And overthrower from being overthrown.
With sword we have not striven; and thy good horse
And thou are weary; yet not less I felt
Thy manhood through that wearied lance of thine.
Well hast thou done; for all the stream is freed,
And when reviled, hast answered graciously,
And makest merry when overthrown. Prince, Knight
Hail, Knight and Prince, and of our Table Round!”
And then when turning to Lynette he told
The tale of Gareth, petulantly284 she said,
“Ay well—ay well—for worse than being fooled
Of others, is to fool one’s self. A cave,
Sir Lancelot, is hard by, with meats and drinks
But all about it flies a honeysuckle.
Seek, till we find.” And when they sought and found,
Sir Gareth drank and ate, and all his life
Past into sleep; on whom the maiden gazed.
“Sound sleep be thine! sound cause to sleep hast thou.
Wake lusty! Seem I not as tender to him
As any mother? Ay, but such a one
As all day long hath rated at her child,
And vext his day, but blesses him asleep—
Good lord, how sweetly smells the honeysuckle
In the hushed night, as if the world were one
Of utter peace, and love, and gentleness!
O Lancelot, Lancelot”—and she clapt her hands—
“Full merry am I to find my goodly knave
Is knight and noble. See now, sworn have I,
Else yon black felon had not let me pass,
To bring thee back to do the battle with him.
Thus an thou goest, he will fight thee first;
Who doubts thee victor? so will my knight-knave
Miss the full flower of this accomplishment286.”
Said Lancelot, “Peradventure he, you name,
May know my shield. Let Gareth, an he will,
Change his for mine, and take my charger, fresh,
Not to be spurred, loving the battle as well
As he that rides him.” “Lancelot-like,” she said,
“Courteous in this, Lord Lancelot, as in all.”
And Gareth, wakening, fiercely clutched the shield;
Are rotten sticks! ye seem agape to roar!
Yea, ramp and roar at leaving of your lord!—
Care not, good beasts, so well I care for you.
O noble Lancelot, from my hold on these
Streams virtue—fire—through one that will not shame
Even the shadow of Lancelot under shield.
Hence: let us go.”
Silent the silent field
They traversed. Arthur’s harp though summer-wan,
The glance of Gareth dreaming on his liege.
A star shot: “Lo,” said Gareth, “the foe falls!”
Suddenly she that rode upon his left
Clung to the shield that Lancelot lent him, crying,
“Yield, yield him this again: ’tis he must fight:
I curse the tongue that all through yesterday
Reviled thee, and hath wrought on Lancelot now
To lend thee horse and shield: wonders ye have done;
Miracles ye cannot: here is glory enow
In having flung the three: I see thee maimed,
Mangled: I swear thou canst not fling the fourth.”
“And wherefore, damsel? tell me all ye know.
You cannot scare me; nor rough face, or voice,
“Nay, Prince,” she cried,
“God wot, I never looked upon the face,
Seeing he never rides abroad by day;
Chilling the night: nor have I heard the voice.
Always he made his mouthpiece of a page
Who came and went, and still reported him
As closing in himself the strength of ten,
Man, woman, lad and girl—yea, the soft babe!
Some hold that he hath swallowed infant flesh,
Monster! O Prince, I went for Lancelot first,
The quest is Lancelot’s: give him back the shield.”
Said Gareth laughing, “An he fight for this,
Belike he wins it as the better man:
Thus—and not else!”
But Lancelot on him urged
When one might meet a mightier than himself;
How best to manage horse, lance, sword and shield,
And so fill up the gap where force might fail
With skill and fineness. Instant were his words.
Then Gareth, “Here be rules. I know but one—
To dash against mine enemy and win.
Yet have I seen thee victor in the joust,
And seen thy way.” “Heaven help thee,” sighed Lynette.
Then for a space, and under cloud that grew
Lifted an arm, and softly whispered, “There.”
And all the three were silent seeing, pitched
Beside the Castle Perilous on flat field,
A huge pavilion like a mountain peak
Black, with black banner, and a long black horn
Beside it hanging; which Sir Gareth graspt,
And so, before the two could hinder him,
Sent all his heart and breath through all the horn.
Echoed the walls; a light twinkled; anon
Came lights and lights, and once again he blew;
Whereon were hollow tramplings up and down
Till high above him, circled with her maids,
The Lady Lyonors at a window stood,
Beautiful among lights, and waving to him
White hands, and courtesy; but when the Prince
Three times had blown—after long hush—at last—
The huge pavilion slowly yielded up,
Through those black foldings, that which housed therein.
High on a nightblack horse, in nightblack arms,
And crowned with fleshless laughter—some ten steps—
In the half-light—through the dim dawn—advanced
The monster, and then paused, and spake no word.
But Gareth spake and all indignantly,
“Fool, for thou hast, men say, the strength of ten,
Canst thou not trust the limbs thy God hath given,
But must, to make the terror of thee more,
Trick thyself out in ghastly imageries
Of that which Life hath done with, and the clod,
As if for pity?” But he spake no word;
Which set the horror higher: a maiden swooned;
As doomed to be the bride of Night and Death;
Sir Gareth’s head prickled beneath his helm;
And even Sir Lancelot through his warm blood felt
Ice strike, and all that marked him were aghast.
At once Sir Lancelot’s charger fiercely neighed,
And Death’s dark war-horse bounded forward with him.
Then those that did not blink the terror, saw
That Death was cast to ground, and slowly rose.
But with one stroke Sir Gareth split the skull.
Half fell to right and half to left and lay.
As throughly as the skull; and out from this
Issued the bright face of a blooming boy
Fresh as a flower new-born, and crying, “Knight,
Slay me not: my three brethren bad me do it,
To make a horror all about the house,
And stay the world from Lady Lyonors.
They never dreamed the passes would be past.”
Answered Sir Gareth graciously to one
Not many a moon his younger, “My fair child,
What madness made thee challenge the chief knight
Of Arthur’s hall?” “Fair Sir, they bad me do it.
They hate the King, and Lancelot, the King’s friend,
They hoped to slay him somewhere on the stream,
They never dreamed the passes could be past.”
Then sprang the happier day from underground;
And Lady Lyonors and her house, with dance
As being after all their foolish fears
And horrors only proven a blooming boy.
So large mirth lived and Gareth won the quest.
And he that told the tale in older times
Says that Sir Gareth wedded Lyonors,
But he, that told it later, says Lynette.
点击收听单词发音
1 tare | |
n.皮重;v.量皮重 | |
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2 spate | |
n.泛滥,洪水,突然的一阵 | |
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3 knight | |
n.骑士,武士;爵士 | |
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4 kin | |
n.家族,亲属,血缘关系;adj.亲属关系的,同类的 | |
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5 cataract | |
n.大瀑布,奔流,洪水,白内障 | |
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6 swollen | |
adj.肿大的,水涨的;v.使变大,肿胀 | |
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7 obedience | |
n.服从,顺从 | |
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8 coaxed | |
v.哄,用好话劝说( coax的过去式和过去分词 );巧言骗取;哄劝,劝诱 | |
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9 swoop | |
n.俯冲,攫取;v.抓取,突然袭击 | |
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10 cleanse | |
vt.使清洁,使纯洁,清洗 | |
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11 tilt | |
v.(使)倾侧;(使)倾斜;n.倾侧;倾斜 | |
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12 wan | |
(wide area network)广域网 | |
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13 worthier | |
应得某事物( worthy的比较级 ); 值得做某事; 可尊敬的; 有(某人或事物)的典型特征 | |
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14 hovering | |
鸟( hover的现在分词 ); 靠近(某事物); (人)徘徊; 犹豫 | |
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15 kindling | |
n. 点火, 可燃物 动词kindle的现在分词形式 | |
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16 nay | |
adv.不;n.反对票,投反对票者 | |
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17 gilded | |
a.镀金的,富有的 | |
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18 leash | |
n.牵狗的皮带,束缚;v.用皮带系住 | |
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19 mere | |
adj.纯粹的;仅仅,只不过 | |
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20 fowl | |
n.家禽,鸡,禽肉 | |
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21 owl | |
n.猫头鹰,枭 | |
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22 bemoaned | |
v.为(某人或某事)抱怨( bemoan的过去式和过去分词 );悲悼;为…恸哭;哀叹 | |
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23 lone | |
adj.孤寂的,单独的;唯一的 | |
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24 hearth | |
n.壁炉炉床,壁炉地面 | |
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25 traitor | |
n.叛徒,卖国贼 | |
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26 baron | |
n.男爵;(商业界等)巨头,大王 | |
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27 corpse | |
n.尸体,死尸 | |
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28 albeit | |
conj.即使;纵使;虽然 | |
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29 worthy | |
adj.(of)值得的,配得上的;有价值的 | |
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30 jousts | |
(骑士)骑着马用长矛打斗( joust的名词复数 ); 格斗,竞争 | |
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31 joust | |
v.马上长枪比武,竞争 | |
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32 pang | |
n.剧痛,悲痛,苦闷 | |
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33 wrenched | |
v.(猛力地)扭( wrench的过去式和过去分词 );扭伤;使感到痛苦;使悲痛 | |
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34 mightier | |
adj. 强有力的,强大的,巨大的 adv. 很,极其 | |
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35 prone | |
adj.(to)易于…的,很可能…的;俯卧的 | |
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36 mar | |
vt.破坏,毁坏,弄糟 | |
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37 wed | |
v.娶,嫁,与…结婚 | |
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38 vile | |
adj.卑鄙的,可耻的,邪恶的;坏透的 | |
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39 cleave | |
v.(clave;cleaved)粘着,粘住;坚持;依恋 | |
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40 cleaved | |
v.劈开,剁开,割开( cleave的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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41 wilt | |
v.(使)植物凋谢或枯萎;(指人)疲倦,衰弱 | |
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42 biding | |
v.等待,停留( bide的现在分词 );居住;(过去式用bided)等待;面临 | |
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43 craftily | |
狡猾地,狡诈地 | |
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44 heed | |
v.注意,留意;n.注意,留心 | |
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45 knave | |
n.流氓;(纸牌中的)杰克 | |
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46 knaves | |
n.恶棍,无赖( knave的名词复数 );(纸牌中的)杰克 | |
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47 beheld | |
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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48 villain | |
n.反派演员,反面人物;恶棍;问题的起因 | |
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49 vassal | |
n.附庸的;属下;adj.奴仆的 | |
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50 thereby | |
adv.因此,从而 | |
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51 thrall | |
n.奴隶;奴隶制 | |
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52 ward | |
n.守卫,监护,病房,行政区,由监护人或法院保护的人(尤指儿童);vt.守护,躲开 | |
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53 bellowing | |
v.发出吼叫声,咆哮(尤指因痛苦)( bellow的现在分词 );(愤怒地)说出(某事),大叫 | |
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54 slumber | |
n.睡眠,沉睡状态 | |
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55 mid | |
adj.中央的,中间的 | |
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56 kindled | |
(使某物)燃烧,着火( kindle的过去式和过去分词 ); 激起(感情等); 发亮,放光 | |
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57 kindle | |
v.点燃,着火 | |
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58 lashed | |
adj.具睫毛的v.鞭打( lash的过去式和过去分词 );煽动;紧系;怒斥 | |
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59 spires | |
n.(教堂的) 塔尖,尖顶( spire的名词复数 ) | |
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60 spire | |
n.(教堂)尖顶,尖塔,高点 | |
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61 turrets | |
(六角)转台( turret的名词复数 ); (战舰和坦克等上的)转动炮塔; (摄影机等上的)镜头转台; (旧时攻城用的)塔车 | |
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62 pricked | |
刺,扎,戳( prick的过去式和过去分词 ); 刺伤; 刺痛; 使剧痛 | |
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63 mazed | |
迷惘的,困惑的 | |
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64 northward | |
adv.向北;n.北方的地区 | |
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65 glamour | |
n.魔力,魅力;vt.迷住 | |
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66 plunge | |
v.跳入,(使)投入,(使)陷入;猛冲 | |
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67 unwilling | |
adj.不情愿的 | |
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68 rippled | |
使泛起涟漪(ripple的过去式与过去分词形式) | |
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69 weird | |
adj.古怪的,离奇的;怪诞的,神秘而可怕的 | |
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70 inveterately | |
adv.根深蒂固地,积习地 | |
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71 emblem | |
n.象征,标志;徽章 | |
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72 seethe | |
vi.拥挤,云集;发怒,激动,骚动 | |
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73 twine | |
v.搓,织,编饰;(使)缠绕 | |
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74 gateway | |
n.大门口,出入口,途径,方法 | |
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75 pealed | |
v.(使)(钟等)鸣响,(雷等)发出隆隆声( peal的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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76 furrow | |
n.沟;垄沟;轨迹;车辙;皱纹 | |
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77 weirdly | |
古怪地 | |
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78 harp | |
n.竖琴;天琴座 | |
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79 harps | |
abbr.harpsichord 拨弦古钢琴n.竖琴( harp的名词复数 ) | |
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80 enchanted | |
adj. 被施魔法的,陶醉的,入迷的 动词enchant的过去式和过去分词 | |
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81 enchantments | |
n.魅力( enchantment的名词复数 );迷人之处;施魔法;着魔 | |
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82 bind | |
vt.捆,包扎;装订;约束;使凝固;vi.变硬 | |
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83 vows | |
誓言( vow的名词复数 ); 郑重宣布,许愿 | |
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84 vow | |
n.誓(言),誓约;v.起誓,立誓 | |
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85 dread | |
vt.担忧,忧虑;惧怕,不敢;n.担忧,畏惧 | |
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86 abide | |
vi.遵守;坚持;vt.忍受 | |
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87 bide | |
v.忍耐;等候;住 | |
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88 reverence | |
n.敬畏,尊敬,尊严;Reverence:对某些基督教神职人员的尊称;v.尊敬,敬畏,崇敬 | |
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89 whit | |
n.一点,丝毫 | |
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90 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 | |
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91 riddling | |
adj.谜一样的,解谜的n.筛选 | |
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92 bards | |
n.诗人( bard的名词复数 ) | |
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93 elusion | |
n.逃避,规避 | |
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94 brook | |
n.小河,溪;v.忍受,容让 | |
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95 amends | |
n. 赔偿 | |
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96 ordinance | |
n.法令;条令;条例 | |
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97 lessening | |
减轻,减少,变小 | |
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98 pinnacle | |
n.尖塔,尖顶,山峰;(喻)顶峰 | |
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99 bower | |
n.凉亭,树荫下凉快之处;闺房;v.荫蔽 | |
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100 casement | |
n.竖铰链窗;窗扉 | |
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101 wholesome | |
adj.适合;卫生的;有益健康的;显示身心健康的 | |
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102 ascending | |
adj.上升的,向上的 | |
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103 vaulted | |
adj.拱状的 | |
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104 doom | |
n.厄运,劫数;v.注定,命定 | |
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105 truthful | |
adj.真实的,说实话的,诚实的 | |
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106 knights | |
骑士; (中古时代的)武士( knight的名词复数 ); 骑士; 爵士; (国际象棋中)马 | |
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107 boon | |
n.恩赐,恩物,恩惠 | |
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108 proffered | |
v.提供,贡献,提出( proffer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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109 slew | |
v.(使)旋转;n.大量,许多 | |
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110 loathe | |
v.厌恶,嫌恶 | |
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111 foul | |
adj.污秽的;邪恶的;v.弄脏;妨害;犯规;n.犯规 | |
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112 wreak | |
v.发泄;报复 | |
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113 kinsman | |
n.男亲属 | |
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114 slay | |
v.杀死,宰杀,杀戮 | |
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115 doomed | |
命定的 | |
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116 scourged | |
鞭打( scourge的过去式和过去分词 ); 惩罚,压迫 | |
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117 slit | |
n.狭长的切口;裂缝;vt.切开,撕裂 | |
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118 fealty | |
n.忠贞,忠节 | |
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119 rend | |
vt.把…撕开,割裂;把…揪下来,强行夺取 | |
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120 blazoned | |
v.广布( blazon的过去式和过去分词 );宣布;夸示;装饰 | |
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121 stony | |
adj.石头的,多石头的,冷酷的,无情的 | |
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122 bounteous | |
adj.丰富的 | |
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123 enrolled | |
adj.入学登记了的v.[亦作enrol]( enroll的过去式和过去分词 );登记,招收,使入伍(或入会、入学等),参加,成为成员;记入名册;卷起,包起 | |
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124 tarnished | |
(通常指金属)(使)失去光泽,(使)变灰暗( tarnish的过去式和过去分词 ); 玷污,败坏 | |
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125 churl | |
n.吝啬之人;粗鄙之人 | |
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126 crave | |
vt.渴望得到,迫切需要,恳求,请求 | |
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127 suppliant | |
adj.哀恳的;n.恳求者,哀求者 | |
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128 ravage | |
vt.使...荒废,破坏...;n.破坏,掠夺,荒废 | |
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129 wrought | |
v.引起;以…原料制作;运转;adj.制造的 | |
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130 mien | |
n.风采;态度 | |
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131 lichen | |
n.地衣, 青苔 | |
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132 cram | |
v.填塞,塞满,临时抱佛脚,为考试而学习 | |
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133 sleeker | |
磨光器,异型墁刀 | |
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134 hog | |
n.猪;馋嘴贪吃的人;vt.把…占为己有,独占 | |
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135 standing | |
n.持续,地位;adj.永久的,不动的,直立的,不流动的 | |
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136 nostril | |
n.鼻孔 | |
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137 armour | |
(=armor)n.盔甲;装甲部队 | |
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138 undo | |
vt.解开,松开;取消,撤销 | |
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139 yoke | |
n.轭;支配;v.给...上轭,连接,使成配偶 | |
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140 hustle | |
v.推搡;竭力兜售或获取;催促;n.奔忙(碌) | |
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141 harry | |
vt.掠夺,蹂躏,使苦恼 | |
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142 broach | |
v.开瓶,提出(题目) | |
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143 hew | |
v.砍;伐;削 | |
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144 thralls | |
n.奴隶( thrall的名词复数 );奴役;奴隶制;奴隶般受支配的人 | |
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145 mightiest | |
adj.趾高气扬( mighty的最高级 );巨大的;强有力的;浩瀚的 | |
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146 tarns | |
n.冰斗湖,山中小湖( tarn的名词复数 ) | |
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147 hazy | |
adj.有薄雾的,朦胧的;不肯定的,模糊的 | |
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148 isle | |
n.小岛,岛 | |
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149 lark | |
n.云雀,百灵鸟;n.嬉戏,玩笑;vi.嬉戏 | |
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150 reverenced | |
v.尊敬,崇敬( reverence的过去式和过去分词 );敬礼 | |
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151 prodigious | |
adj.惊人的,奇妙的;异常的;巨大的;庞大的 | |
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152 blustering | |
adj.狂风大作的,狂暴的v.外强中干的威吓( bluster的现在分词 );咆哮;(风)呼啸;狂吹 | |
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153 thither | |
adv.向那里;adj.在那边的,对岸的 | |
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154 ecstasy | |
n.狂喜,心醉神怡,入迷 | |
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155 repentant | |
adj.对…感到悔恨的 | |
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156 scent | |
n.气味,香味,香水,线索,嗅觉;v.嗅,发觉 | |
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157 squire | |
n.护卫, 侍从, 乡绅 | |
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158 ragged | |
adj.衣衫褴褛的,粗糙的,刺耳的 | |
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159 descend | |
vt./vi.传下来,下来,下降 | |
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160 mellow | |
adj.柔和的;熟透的;v.变柔和;(使)成熟 | |
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161 kindly | |
adj.和蔼的,温和的,爽快的;adv.温和地,亲切地 | |
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162 privily | |
adv.暗中,秘密地 | |
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163 slain | |
杀死,宰杀,杀戮( slay的过去分词 ); (slay的过去分词) | |
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164 petal | |
n.花瓣 | |
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165 foe | |
n.敌人,仇敌 | |
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166 ridge | |
n.山脊;鼻梁;分水岭 | |
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167 Ford | |
n.浅滩,水浅可涉处;v.涉水,涉过 | |
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168 beset | |
v.镶嵌;困扰,包围 | |
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169 comely | |
adj.漂亮的,合宜的 | |
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170 comelier | |
adj.英俊的,好看的( comely的比较级 ) | |
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171 perilous | |
adj.危险的,冒险的 | |
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172 besieges | |
包围,围困,围攻( besiege的第三人称单数 ) | |
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173 purport | |
n.意义,要旨,大要;v.意味著,做为...要旨,要领是... | |
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174 overthrow | |
v.推翻,打倒,颠覆;n.推翻,瓦解,颠覆 | |
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175 courteous | |
adj.彬彬有礼的,客气的 | |
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176 bestial | |
adj.残忍的;野蛮的 | |
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177 boundless | |
adj.无限的;无边无际的;巨大的 | |
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178 savagery | |
n.野性 | |
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179 skull | |
n.头骨;颅骨 | |
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180 mighty | |
adj.强有力的;巨大的 | |
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181 throng | |
n.人群,群众;v.拥挤,群集 | |
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182 groaning | |
adj. 呜咽的, 呻吟的 动词groan的现在分词形式 | |
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183 momentary | |
adj.片刻的,瞬息的;短暂的 | |
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184 wrath | |
n.愤怒,愤慨,暴怒 | |
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185 descended | |
a.为...后裔的,出身于...的 | |
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186 doorway | |
n.门口,(喻)入门;门路,途径 | |
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187 crest | |
n.顶点;饰章;羽冠;vt.达到顶点;vi.形成浪尖 | |
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188 maiden | |
n.少女,处女;adj.未婚的,纯洁的,无经验的 | |
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189 trenchant | |
adj.尖刻的,清晰的 | |
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190 growls | |
v.(动物)发狺狺声, (雷)作隆隆声( growl的第三人称单数 );低声咆哮着说 | |
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191 heeded | |
v.听某人的劝告,听从( heed的过去式和过去分词 );变平,使(某物)变平( flatten的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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192 bawl | |
v.大喊大叫,大声地喊,咆哮 | |
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193 meek | |
adj.温顺的,逆来顺受的 | |
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194 awaken | |
vi.醒,觉醒;vt.唤醒,使觉醒,唤起,激起 | |
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195 meekly | |
adv.温顺地,逆来顺受地 | |
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197 carrion | |
n.腐肉 | |
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198 petulant | |
adj.性急的,暴躁的 | |
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199 shrilling | |
(声音)尖锐的,刺耳的,高频率的( shrill的现在分词 ); 凄厉 | |
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200 shingle | |
n.木瓦板;小招牌(尤指医生或律师挂的营业招牌);v.用木瓦板盖(屋顶);把(女子头发)剪短 | |
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201 overthrown | |
adj. 打翻的,推倒的,倾覆的 动词overthrow的过去分词 | |
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202 loon | |
n.狂人 | |
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203 rogue | |
n.流氓;v.游手好闲 | |
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204 revile | |
v.辱骂,谩骂 | |
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205 reviler | |
n.谩骂者;辱骂者,谩骂者 | |
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206 reviled | |
v.辱骂,痛斥( revile的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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207 ascended | |
v.上升,攀登( ascend的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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208 plunged | |
v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 );暴跌;骤降;突降 | |
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209 rogues | |
n.流氓( rogue的名词复数 );无赖;调皮捣蛋的人;离群的野兽 | |
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210 wreaked | |
诉诸(武力),施行(暴力),发(脾气)( wreak的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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211 wont | |
adj.习惯于;v.习惯;n.习惯 | |
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212 flickering | |
adj.闪烁的,摇曳的,一闪一闪的 | |
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213 rout | |
n.溃退,溃败;v.击溃,打垮 | |
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214 flail | |
v.用连枷打;击打;n.连枷(脱粒用的工具) | |
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215 scattered | |
adj.分散的,稀疏的;散步的;疏疏落落的 | |
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216 manor | |
n.庄园,领地 | |
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217 costly | |
adj.昂贵的,价值高的,豪华的 | |
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218 brotherhood | |
n.兄弟般的关系,手中情谊 | |
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219 bawls | |
v.大叫,大喊( bawl的第三人称单数 );放声大哭;大声叫出;叫卖(货物) | |
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220 redressing | |
v.改正( redress的现在分词 );重加权衡;恢复平衡 | |
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221 haughtily | |
adv. 傲慢地, 高傲地 | |
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222 isled | |
使成为岛屿(isle的过去式与过去分词形式) | |
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223 courteously | |
adv.有礼貌地,亲切地 | |
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224 wedded | |
adj.正式结婚的;渴望…的,执著于…的v.嫁,娶,(与…)结婚( wed的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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225 streaks | |
n.(与周围有所不同的)条纹( streak的名词复数 );(通常指不好的)特征(倾向);(不断经历成功或失败的)一段时期v.快速移动( streak的第三人称单数 );使布满条纹 | |
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226 hue | |
n.色度;色调;样子 | |
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227 dome | |
n.圆屋顶,拱顶 | |
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228 crimson | |
n./adj.深(绯)红色(的);vi.脸变绯红色 | |
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229 warrior | |
n.勇士,武士,斗士 | |
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230 folly | |
n.愚笨,愚蠢,蠢事,蠢行,傻话 | |
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231 gilt | |
adj.镀金的;n.金边证券 | |
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232 rosy | |
adj.美好的,乐观的,玫瑰色的 | |
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233 glistened | |
v.湿物闪耀,闪亮( glisten的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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234 gem | |
n.宝石,珠宝;受爱戴的人 [同]jewel | |
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235 azure | |
adj.天蓝色的,蔚蓝色的 | |
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236 fiery | |
adj.燃烧着的,火红的;暴躁的;激烈的 | |
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237 bent | |
n.爱好,癖好;adj.弯的;决心的,一心的 | |
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238 hurled | |
v.猛投,用力掷( hurl的过去式和过去分词 );大声叫骂 | |
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239 clove | |
n.丁香味 | |
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240 grovelling | |
adj.卑下的,奴颜婢膝的v.卑躬屈节,奴颜婢膝( grovel的现在分词 );趴 | |
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241 shrieked | |
v.尖叫( shriek的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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242 hardy | |
adj.勇敢的,果断的,吃苦的;耐寒的 | |
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243 abounding | |
adj.丰富的,大量的v.大量存在,充满,富于( abound的现在分词 ) | |
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244 felon | |
n.重罪犯;adj.残忍的 | |
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245 foully | |
ad.卑鄙地 | |
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246 parable | |
n.寓言,比喻 | |
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247 meddle | |
v.干预,干涉,插手 | |
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248 burnished | |
adj.抛光的,光亮的v.擦亮(金属等),磨光( burnish的过去式和过去分词 );被擦亮,磨光 | |
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249 blots | |
污渍( blot的名词复数 ); 墨水渍; 错事; 污点 | |
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250 shrilled | |
(声音)尖锐的,刺耳的,高频率的( shrill的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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251 cipher | |
n.零;无影响力的人;密码 | |
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252 ponderous | |
adj.沉重的,笨重的,(文章)冗长的 | |
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253 hoof | |
n.(马,牛等的)蹄 | |
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254 slate | |
n.板岩,石板,石片,石板色,候选人名单;adj.暗蓝灰色的,含板岩的;vt.用石板覆盖,痛打,提名,预订 | |
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255 bliss | |
n.狂喜,福佑,天赐的福 | |
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256 garnish | |
n.装饰,添饰,配菜 | |
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257 forth | |
adv.向前;向外,往外 | |
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258 snare | |
n.陷阱,诱惑,圈套;(去除息肉或者肿瘤的)勒除器;响弦,小军鼓;vt.以陷阱捕获,诱惑 | |
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259 basting | |
n.疏缝;疏缝的针脚;疏缝用线;涂油v.打( baste的现在分词 );粗缝;痛斥;(烤肉等时)往上抹[浇]油 | |
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260 underneath | |
adj.在...下面,在...底下;adv.在下面 | |
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261 brag | |
v./n.吹牛,自夸;adj.第一流的 | |
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262 evergreen | |
n.常青树;adj.四季常青的 | |
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263 overthrew | |
overthrow的过去式 | |
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264 drawn | |
v.拖,拉,拔出;adj.憔悴的,紧张的 | |
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265 smote | |
v.猛打,重击,打击( smite的过去式 ) | |
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266 hewed | |
v.(用斧、刀等)砍、劈( hew的过去式和过去分词 );砍成;劈出;开辟 | |
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267 buoy | |
n.浮标;救生圈;v.支持,鼓励 | |
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268 utterly | |
adv.完全地,绝对地 | |
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269 writhed | |
(因极度痛苦而)扭动或翻滚( writhe的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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270 rebuked | |
责难或指责( rebuke的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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271 marvel | |
vi.(at)惊叹vt.感到惊异;n.令人惊异的事 | |
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272 quell | |
v.压制,平息,减轻 | |
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273 melancholy | |
n.忧郁,愁思;adj.令人感伤(沮丧)的,忧郁的 | |
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274 cavern | |
n.洞穴,大山洞 | |
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275 slabs | |
n.厚板,平板,厚片( slab的名词复数 );厚胶片 | |
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276 slab | |
n.平板,厚的切片;v.切成厚板,以平板盖上 | |
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277 hues | |
色彩( hue的名词复数 ); 色调; 信仰; 观点 | |
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278 hermit | |
n.隐士,修道者;隐居 | |
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279 helping | |
n.食物的一份&adj.帮助人的,辅助的 | |
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280 avenge | |
v.为...复仇,为...报仇 | |
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281 lesser | |
adj.次要的,较小的;adv.较小地,较少地 | |
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282 vanquished | |
v.征服( vanquish的过去式和过去分词 );战胜;克服;抑制 | |
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283 foes | |
敌人,仇敌( foe的名词复数 ) | |
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284 petulantly | |
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285 forage | |
n.(牛马的)饲料,粮草;v.搜寻,翻寻 | |
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286 accomplishment | |
n.完成,成就,(pl.)造诣,技能 | |
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287 ramp | |
n.暴怒,斜坡,坡道;vi.作恐吓姿势,暴怒,加速;vt.加速 | |
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288 allured | |
诱引,吸引( allure的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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289 pealing | |
v.(使)(钟等)鸣响,(雷等)发出隆隆声( peal的现在分词 ) | |
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290 brute | |
n.野兽,兽性 | |
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291 appal | |
vt.使胆寒,使惊骇 | |
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292 phantom | |
n.幻影,虚位,幽灵;adj.错觉的,幻影的,幽灵的 | |
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293 chivalry | |
n.骑士气概,侠义;(男人)对女人彬彬有礼,献殷勤 | |
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294 palling | |
v.(因过多或过久而)生厌,感到乏味,厌烦( pall的现在分词 ) | |
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295 converse | |
vi.谈话,谈天,闲聊;adv.相反的,相反 | |
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296 sunder | |
v.分开;隔离;n.分离,分开 | |
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297 muffled | |
adj.(声音)被隔的;听不太清的;(衣服)裹严的;蒙住的v.压抑,捂住( muffle的过去式和过去分词 );用厚厚的衣帽包着(自己) | |
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298 ribs | |
n.肋骨( rib的名词复数 );(船或屋顶等的)肋拱;肋骨状的东西;(织物的)凸条花纹 | |
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299 mantling | |
覆巾 | |
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300 wrung | |
绞( wring的过去式和过去分词 ); 握紧(尤指别人的手); 把(湿衣服)拧干; 绞掉(水) | |
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301 buffet | |
n.自助餐;饮食柜台;餐台 | |
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302 revel | |
vi.狂欢作乐,陶醉;n.作乐,狂欢 | |
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