And in the wild woods of Broceliande,
Before an oak, so hollow, huge and old
It looked a tower of ivied masonwork,
At Merlin’s feet the wily Vivien lay.
The slights of Arthur and his Table, Mark
The Cornish King, had heard a wandering voice,
A minstrel of Caerleon by strong storm
Blown into shelter at Tintagil, say
That out of naked knightlike purity
Sir Lancelot worshipt no unmarried girl
But the great Queen herself, fought in her name,
Love most, but neither marry, nor are given
In marriage, angels of our Lord’s report.
He ceased, and then—for Vivien sweetly said
(She sat beside the banquet nearest Mark),
“And is the fair example followed, Sir,
In Arthur’s household?”—answered innocently:
“Ay, by some few—ay, truly—youths that hold
To worship woman as true wife beyond
They place their pride in Lancelot and the Queen.
So passionate6 for an utter purity
Beyond the limit of their bond, are these,
For Arthur bound them not to singleness.
Brave hearts and clean! and yet—God guide them—young.”
Straight at the speaker, but forbore: he rose
To leave the hall, and, Vivien following him,
Turned to her: “Here are snakes within the grass;
And you methinks, O Vivien, save ye fear
Worn by this court, can stir them till they sting.”
And Vivien answered, smiling scornfully,
“Why fear? because that fostered at thy court
I savour of thy—virtues? fear them? no.
As Love, if Love is perfect, casts out fear,
So Hate, if Hate is perfect, casts out fear.
My father died in battle against the King,
She bore me there, for born from death was I
Among the dead and sown upon the wind—
And then on thee! and shown the truth betimes,
Where Truth is hidden. Gracious lessons thine
Great Nature through the flesh herself hath made
Gives him the lie! There is no being pure,
If I were Arthur, I would have thy blood.
When I have ferreted out their burrowings,
The hearts of all this Order in mine hand—
Perchance, one curl of Arthur’s golden beard.
To me this narrow grizzled fork of thine
Is cleaner-fashioned—Well, I loved thee first,
Loud laughed the graceless Mark,
Low in the city, and on a festal day
When Guinevere was crossing the great hall
Rise!” and the damsel bidden rise arose
And stood with folded hands and downward eyes
My father died in battle for thy King,
My mother on his corpse—in open field,
The sad sea-sounding wastes of Lyonnesse—
Poor wretch—no friend!—and now by Mark the King
For that small charm of feature mine, pursued—
If any such be mine—I fly to thee.
Save, save me thou—Woman of women—thine
The wreath of beauty, thine the crown of power,
Be thine the balm of pity, O Heaven’s own white
Earth-angel, stainless bride of stainless King—
Help, for he follows! take me to thyself!
Here her slow sweet eyes
Fixt on her hearer’s, while the Queen who stood
All glittering like May sunshine on May leaves
“Peace, child! of overpraise and overblame
We choose the last. Our noble Arthur, him
Ye scarce can overpraise, will hear and know.
Nay—we believe all evil of thy Mark—
Well, we shall test thee farther; but this hour
We ride a-hawking with Sir Lancelot.
She past; and Vivien murmured after “Go!
I bide the while.” Then through the portal-arch
Peering askance, and muttering broken-wise,
As one that labours with an evil dream,
“Is that the Lancelot? goodly—ay, but gaunt:
Courteous—amends for gauntness—takes her hand—
That glance of theirs, but for the street, had been
A clinging kiss—how hand lingers in hand!
For waterfowl. Royaller game is mine.
For such a supersensual sensual bond
As that gray cricket chirpt of at our hearth—
Down upon far-off cities while they dance—
Or dream—of thee they dreamed not—nor of me
These—ay, but each of either: ride, and dream
The mortal dream that never yet was mine—
Ride, ride and dream until ye wake—to me!
Then, narrow court and lubber King, farewell!
For Lancelot will be gracious to the rat,
And our wise Queen, if knowing that I know,
Yet while they rode together down the plain,
Their talk was all of training, terms of art,
“She is too noble” he said “to check at pies,
Nor will she rake: there is no baseness in her.”
Here when the Queen demanded as by chance
“Know ye the stranger woman?” “Let her be,”
Said Lancelot and unhooded casting off
The goodly falcon free; she towered; her bells,
Their eager faces, wondering at the strength,
Boldness and royal knighthood of the bird
As once—of old—among the flowers—they rode.
But Vivien half-forgotten of the Queen
Among her damsels broidering sat, heard, watched
And whispered: through the peaceful court she crept
And whispered: then as Arthur in the highest
Arriving at a time of golden rest,
And sowing one ill hint from ear to ear,
While all the heathen lay at Arthur’s feet,
Leavened his hall. They heard and let her be.
Thereafter as an enemy that has left
The wily Vivien stole from Arthur’s court.
For once, when Arthur walking all alone,
Of some corruption50 crept among his knights,
Had met her, Vivien, being greeted fair,
Would fain have wrought upon his cloudy mood
With dark sweet hints of some who prized him more
Than who should prize him most; at which the King
Had gazed upon her blankly and gone by:
But one had watched, and had not held his peace:
It made the laughter of an afternoon
That Vivien should attempt the blameless King.
And after that, she set herself to gain
Him, the most famous man of all those times,
Merlin, who knew the range of all their arts,
The people called him Wizard; whom at first
And vivid smiles, and faintly-venomed points
And yielding to his kindlier moods, the Seer
Even when they seemed unloveable, and laugh
As those that watch a kitten; thus he grew
Perceiving that she was but half disdained,
Began to break her sports with graver fits,
Turn red or pale, would often when they met
With such a fixt devotion, that the old man,
Though doubtful, felt the flattery, and at times
Would flatter his own wish in age for love,
And half believe her true: for thus at times
He wavered; but that other clung to him,
Fixt in her will, and so the seasons went.
Then fell on Merlin a great melancholy61;
He walked with dreams and darkness, and he found
An ever-moaning battle in the mist,
World-war of dying flesh against the life,
Death in all life and lying in all love,
The meanest having power upon the highest,
And the high purpose broken by the worm.
So leaving Arthur’s court he gained the beach;
There found a little boat, and stept into it;
And Vivien followed, but he marked her not.
She took the helm and he the sail; the boat
Drave with a sudden wind across the deeps,
And then she followed Merlin all the way,
Even to the wild woods of Broceliande.
For Merlin once had told her of a charm,
The which if any wrought on anyone
With woven paces and with waving arms,
The man so wrought on ever seemed to lie
Closed in the four walls of a hollow tower,
From which was no escape for evermore;
And none could find that man for evermore,
Nor could he see but him who wrought the charm
Coming and going, and he lay as dead
And lost to life and use and name and fame.
And Vivien ever sought to work the charm
Upon the great Enchanter of the Time,
As fancying that her glory would be great
There lay she all her length and kissed his feet,
A twist of gold was round her hair; a robe
Of samite without price, that more exprest
In colour like the satin-shining palm
On sallows in the windy gleams of March:
And while she kissed them, crying, “Trample me,
Dear feet, that I have followed through the world,
And I will pay you worship; tread me down
And I will kiss you for it;” he was mute:
So dark a forethought rolled about his brain,
As on a dull day in an Ocean cave
The blind wave feeling round his long sea-hall
In silence: wherefore, when she lifted up
A face of sad appeal, and spake and said,
“O Merlin, do ye love me?” and again,
“O Merlin, do ye love me?” and once more,
“Great Master, do ye love me?” he was mute.
And lissome Vivien, holding by his heel,
Behind his ankle twined her hollow feet
Together, curved an arm about his neck,
Clung like a snake; and letting her left hand
Made with her right a comb of pearl to part
The lists of such a board as youth gone out
Not looking at her, “Who are wise in love
Love most, say least,” and Vivien answered quick,
“I saw the little elf-god eyeless once
In Arthur’s arras hall at Camelot:
But neither eyes nor tongue—O stupid child!
Yet you are wise who say it; let me think
Silence is wisdom: I am silent then,
And ask no kiss;” then adding all at once,
“And lo, I clothe myself with wisdom,” drew
Who meant to eat her up in that wild wood
Without one word. So Vivien called herself,
But rather seemed a lovely baleful star
Veiled in gray vapour; till he sadly smiled:
“Are these your pretty tricks and fooleries,
For these have broken up my melancholy.”
“What, O my Master, have ye found your voice?
I bid the stranger welcome. Thanks at last!
But yesterday you never opened lip,
Except indeed to drink: no cup had we:
And made a pretty cup of both my hands
And offered you it kneeling: then you drank
And knew no more, nor gave me one poor word;
O no more thanks than might a goat have given
With no more sign of reverence than a beard.
And when we halted at that other well,
And I was faint to swooning, and you lay
Foot-gilt with all the blossom-dust of those
Deep meadows we had traversed, did you know
That Vivien bathed your feet before her own?
And yet no thanks: and all through this wild wood
And all this morning when I fondled you:
Boon, ay, there was a boon, one not so strange—
How had I wronged you? surely ye are wise,
But such a silence is more wise than kind.”
And Merlin locked his hand in hers and said:
“O did ye never lie upon the shore,
And watch the curled white of the coming wave
Glassed in the slippery sand before it breaks?
Even such a wave, but not so pleasurable,
Dark in the glass of some presageful mood,
Had I for three days seen, ready to fall.
And then I rose and fled from Arthur’s court
To break the mood. You followed me unasked;
And when I looked, and saw you following me still,
My mind involved yourself the nearest thing
In that mind-mist: for shall I tell you truth?
You seemed that wave about to break upon me
And sweep me from my hold upon the world,
My use and name and fame. Your pardon, child.
Your pretty sports have brightened all again.
And ask your boon, for boon I owe you thrice,
Once for wrong done you by confusion, next
For thanks it seems till now neglected, last
For these your dainty gambols: wherefore ask;
And take this boon so strange and not so strange.”
And Vivien answered smiling mournfully:
“O not so strange as my long asking it,
Not yet so strange as you yourself are strange,
Nor half so strange as that dark mood of yours.
I ever feared ye were not wholly mine;
And see, yourself have owned ye did me wrong.
The people call you prophet: let it be:
That three-days-long presageful gloom of yours
That makes you seem less noble than yourself,
Whenever I have asked this very boon,
Now asked again: for see you not, dear love,
That such a mood as that, which lately gloomed
Your fancy when ye saw me following you,
Must make me fear still more you are not mine,
And make me wish still more to learn this charm
Of woven paces and of waving hands,
As proof of trust. O Merlin, teach it me.
The charm so taught will charm us both to rest.
For, grant me some slight power upon your fate,
Should rest and let you rest, knowing you mine.
And therefore be as great as ye are named,
How hard you look and how denyingly!
O, if you think this wickedness in me,
That I should prove it on you unawares,
That makes me passing wrathful; then our bond
Had best be loosed for ever: but think or not,
By Heaven that hears I tell you the clean truth,
As clean as blood of babes, as white as milk:
O Merlin, may this earth, if ever I,
If these unwitty wandering wits of mine,
Have tript on such conjectural91 treachery—
Down, down, and close again, and nip me flat,
If I be such a traitress. Yield my boon,
Till which I scarce can yield you all I am;
And grant my re-reiterated wish,
The great proof of your love: because I think,
However wise, ye hardly know me yet.”
And Merlin loosed his hand from hers and said,
“I never was less wise, however wise,
Too curious Vivien, though you talk of trust,
Than when I told you first of such a charm.
Yea, if ye talk of trust I tell you this,
Too much I trusted when I told you that,
Through woman the first hour; for howsoe’er
In children a great curiousness be well,
Who have to learn themselves and all the world,
In you, that are no child, for still I find
Your face is practised when I spell the lines,
I call it,—well, I will not call it vice:
But since you name yourself the summer fly,
That settles, beaten back, and beaten back
Settles, till one could yield for weariness:
But since I will not yield to give you power
Upon my life and use and name and fame,
Why will ye never ask some other boon?
Yea, by God’s rood, I trusted you too much.”
And Vivien, like the tenderest-hearted maid
“Nay, Master, be not wrathful with your maid;
Who feels no heart to ask another boon.
I think ye hardly know the tender rhyme
Of ‘trust me not at all or all in all.’
I heard the great Sir Lancelot sing it once,
And it shall answer for me. Listen to it.
‘In Love, if Love be Love, if Love be ours,
Faith and unfaith can ne’er be equal powers:
Unfaith in aught is want of faith in all.
That by and by will make the music mute,
And ever widening slowly silence all.
‘The little rift within the lover’s lute
‘It is not worth the keeping: let it go:
But shall it? answer, darling, answer, no.
And trust me not at all or all in all.’
O Master, do ye love my tender rhyme?”
And Merlin looked and half believed her true,
So tender was her voice, so fair her face,
So sweetly gleamed her eyes behind her tears
Like sunlight on the plain behind a shower:
And yet he answered half indignantly:
“Far other was the song that once I heard
By this huge oak, sung nearly where we sit:
For here we met, some ten or twelve of us,
To chase a creature that was current then
In these wild woods, the hart with golden horns.
It was the time when first the question rose
About the founding of a Table Round,
That was to be, for love of God and men
And noble deeds, the flower of all the world.
And while we waited, one, the youngest of us,
We could not keep him silent, out he flashed,
And into such a song, such fire for fame,
Such trumpet-glowings in it, coming down
To such a stern and iron-clashing close,
That when he stopt we longed to hurl together,
And should have done it; but the beauteous beast
Scared by the noise upstarted at our feet,
And like a silver shadow slipt away
Through the dim land; and all day long we rode
Through the dim land against a rushing wind,
That glorious roundel echoing in our ears,
And chased the flashes of his golden horns
Till they vanished by the fairy well
Where children cast their pins and nails, and cry,
‘Laugh, little well!’ but touch it with a sword,
It buzzes fiercely round the point; and there
We lost him: such a noble song was that.
But, Vivien, when you sang me that sweet rhyme,
I felt as though you knew this cursed charm,
Were proving it on me, and that I lay
And Vivien answered smiling mournfully:
And all through following you to this wild wood,
Because I saw you sad, to comfort you.
Lo now, what hearts have men! they never mount
As high as woman in her selfless mood.
And touching fame, howe’er ye scorn my song,
Take one verse more—the lady speaks it—this:
“‘My name, once mine, now thine, is closelier mine,
For fame, could fame be mine, that fame were thine,
And shame, could shame be thine, that shame were mine.
So trust me not at all or all in all.’
“Says she not well? and there is more—this rhyme
Is like the fair pearl-necklace of the Queen,
That burst in dancing, and the pearls were spilt;
But nevermore the same two sister pearls
Ran down the silken thread to kiss each other
On her white neck—so is it with this rhyme:
It lives dispersedly in many hands,
And every minstrel sings it differently;
Yet is there one true line, the pearl of pearls:
‘Man dreams of Fame while woman wakes to love.’
Yea! Love, though Love were of the grossest, carves
A portion from the solid present, eats
And uses, careless of the rest; but Fame,
The Fame that follows death is nothing to us;
And what is Fame in life but half-disfame,
And counterchanged with darkness? ye yourself
Know well that Envy calls you Devil’s son,
And since ye seem the Master of all Art,
They fain would make you Master of all vice.”
And Merlin locked his hand in hers and said,
“I once was looking for a magic weed,
And then was painting on it fancied arms,
And speaking not, but leaning over him
And made a Gardener putting in a graff,
With this for motto, ‘Rather use than fame.’
You should have seen him blush; but afterwards
He made a stalwart knight. O Vivien,
For you, methinks you think you love me well;
For me, I love you somewhat; rest: and Love
Should have some rest and pleasure in himself,
Not ever be too curious for a boon,
Of him ye say ye love: but Fame with men,
Being but ampler means to serve mankind,
Should have small rest or pleasure in herself,
Use gave me Fame at first, and Fame again
Increasing gave me use. Lo, there my boon!
Because I fain had given them greater wits:
And then did Envy call me Devil’s son:
The sick weak beast seeking to help herself
By striking at her better, missed, and brought
Her own claw back, and wounded her own heart.
Sweet were the days when I was all unknown,
But when my name was lifted up, the storm
Brake on the mountain and I cared not for it.
Right well know I that Fame is half-disfame,
Yet needs must work my work. That other fame,
To one at least, who hath not children, vague,
The cackle of the unborn about the grave,
Which is the second in a line of stars
That seem a sword beneath a belt of three,
I never gazed upon it but I dreamt
Of some vast charm concluded in that star
To make fame nothing. Wherefore, if I fear,
Giving you power upon me through this charm,
That you might play me falsely, having power,
However well ye think ye love me now
(As sons of kings loving in pupilage
If you—and not so much from wickedness,
As some wild turn of anger, or a mood
Of overstrained affection, it may be,
To keep me all to your own self,—or else
Should try this charm on whom ye say ye love.”
“Have I not sworn? I am not trusted. Good!
Well, hide it, hide it; I shall find it out;
A woman and not trusted, doubtless I
Might feel some sudden turn of anger born
Is accurate too, for this full love of mine
Without the full heart back may merit well
Your term of overstrained. So used as I,
My daily wonder is, I love at all.
And as to woman’s jealousy, O why not?
O to what end, except a jealous one,
And one to make me jealous if I love,
Was this fair charm invented by yourself?
I well believe that all about this world
Closed in the four walls of a hollow tower
From which is no escape for evermore.”
Then the great Master merrily answered her:
“Full many a love in loving youth was mine;
I needed then no charm to keep them mine
But youth and love; and that full heart of yours
So live uncharmed. For those who wrought it first,
The wrist is parted from the hand that waved,
The feet unmortised from their ankle-bones
Who paced it, ages back: but will ye hear
The legend as in guerdon for your rhyme?
“There lived a king in the most Eastern East,
Less old than I, yet older, for my blood
Hath earnest in it of far springs to be.
And passing one, at the high peep of dawn,
He saw two cities in a thousand boats
All fighting for a woman on the sea.
And pushing his black craft among them all,
A maid so smooth, so white, so wonderful,
They said a light came from her when she moved:
And since the pirate would not yield her up,
Then made her Queen: but those isle-nurtured eyes
On all the youth, they sickened; councils thinned,
And beasts themselves would worship; camels knelt
That carry kings in castles, bowed black knees
To make her smile, her golden ankle-bells.
What wonder, being jealous, that he sent
His horns of proclamation out through all
The hundred under-kingdoms that he swayed
To find a wizard who might teach the King
Some charm, which being wrought upon the Queen
Might keep her all his own: to such a one
He promised more than ever king has given,
A league of mountain full of golden mines,
A province with a hundred miles of coast,
A palace and a princess, all for him:
But on all those who tried and failed, the King
To keep the list low and pretenders back,
Or like a king, not to be trifled with—
And many tried and failed, because the charm
Of nature in her overbore their own:
And Vivien breaking in upon him, said:
“I sit and gather honey; yet, methinks,
Thy tongue has tript a little: ask thyself.
The lady never made unwilling war
With those fine eyes: she had her pleasure in it,
And made her good man jealous with good cause.
Wroth at a lover’s loss? were all as tame,
I mean, as noble, as the Queen was fair?
Or pinch a murderous dust into her drink,
Or make her paler with a poisoned rose?
Well, those were not our days: but did they find
A wizard? Tell me, was he like to thee?
Speak for her, glowing on him, like a bride’s
On her new lord, her own, the first of men.
He answered laughing, “Nay, not like to me.
At last they found—his foragers for charms—
A little glassy-headed hairless man,
Who lived alone in a great wild on grass;
Read but one book, and ever reading grew
So grated down and filed away with thought,
And since he kept his mind on one sole aim,
Nor ever touched fierce wine, nor tasted flesh,
Nor owned a sensual wish, to him the wall
Became a crystal, and he saw them through it,
And heard their voices talk behind the wall,
And learnt their elemental secrets, powers
And forces; often o’er the sun’s bright eye
Drew the vast eyelid of an inky cloud,
Or in the noon of mist and driving rain,
When the lake whitened and the pinewood roared,
And the cairned mountain was a shadow, sunned
The world to peace again: here was the man.
And so by force they dragged him to the King.
And then he taught the King to charm the Queen
In such-wise, that no man could see her more,
Nor saw she save the King, who wrought the charm,
Coming and going, and she lay as dead,
And lost all use of life: but when the King
The province with a hundred miles of coast,
The palace and the princess, that old man
Went back to his old wild, and lived on grass,
And vanished, and his book came down to me.”
And Vivien answered smiling saucily:
“Ye have the book: the charm is written in it:
Good: take my counsel: let me know it at once:
For keep it like a puzzle chest in chest,
With each chest locked and padlocked thirty-fold,
As after furious battle turfs the slain
On some wild down above the windy deep,
I yet should strike upon a sudden means
To dig, pick, open, find and read the charm:
Then, if I tried it, who should blame me then?”
And smiling as a master smiles at one
That is not of his school, nor any school
But that where blind and naked Ignorance
On all things all day long, he answered her:
“Thou read the book, my pretty Vivien!
O ay, it is but twenty pages long,
But every page having an ample marge,
And every marge enclosing in the midst
And every square of text an awful charm,
Writ in a language that has long gone by.
So long, that mountains have arisen since
With cities on their flanks—thou read the book!
Of my long life have made it easy to me.
And none can read the text, not even I;
And none can read the comment but myself;
And in the comment did I find the charm.
Might use it to the harm of anyone,
For though you should not prove it upon me,
But keep that oath ye sware, ye might, perchance,
And Vivien, frowning in true anger, said:
“What dare the full-fed liars say of me?
They ride abroad redressing173 human wrongs!
They sit with knife in meat and wine in horn!
They bound to holy vows of chastity!
Were I not woman, I could tell a tale.
But you are man, you well can understand
The shame that cannot be explained for shame.
Not one of all the drove should touch me: swine!”
Then answered Merlin careless of her words:
“You breathe but accusation174 vast and vague,
Spleen-born, I think, and proofless. If ye know,
Set up the charge ye know, to stand or fall!”
And Vivien answered frowning wrathfully:
“O ay, what say ye to Sir Valence, him
And two fair babes, and went to distant lands;
Was one year gone, and on returning found
Not two but three? there lay the reckling, one
But one hour old! What said the happy sire?”
A seven-months’ babe had been a truer gift.
Those twelve sweet moons confused his fatherhood.”
Then answered Merlin, “Nay, I know the tale.
One child they had: it lived with her: she died:
His kinsman travelling on his own affair
Was charged by Valence to bring home the child.
He brought, not found it therefore: take the truth.”
“O ay,” said Vivien, “overtrue a tale.
What say ye then to sweet Sir Sagramore,
So says the song, ‘I trow it is no treason.’
O Master, shall we call him overquick
To crop his own sweet rose before the hour?”
And Merlin answered, “Overquick art thou
Is man’s good name: he never wronged his bride.
And many-corridored complexities183
Of Arthur’s palace: then he found a door,
That wreathen round it made it seem his own;
And wearied out made for the couch and slept,
A stainless man beside a stainless maid;
And either slept, nor knew of other there;
Till the high dawn piercing the royal rose
Blushing upon them blushing, and at once
He rose without a word and parted from her:
But when the thing was blazed about the court,
And as it chanced they are happy, being pure.”
“O ay,” said Vivien, “that were likely too.
What say ye then to fair Sir Percivale
The saintly youth, the spotless lamb of Christ,
Or some black wether of St Satan’s fold.
What, in the precincts of the chapel-yard,
And by the cold Hic Jacets of the dead!”
And Merlin answered careless of her charge,
“A sober man is Percivale and pure;
Then paced for coolness in the chapel-yard;
Where one of Satan’s shepherdesses caught
And meant to stamp him with her master’s mark;
And that he sinned is not believable;
For, look upon his face!—but if he sinned,
The sin that practice burns into the blood,
Will brand us, after, of whose fold we be:
Are chanted in the minster, worse than all.
But is your spleen frothed out, or have ye more?”
And Vivien answered frowning yet in wrath:
“O ay; what say ye to Sir Lancelot, friend
I ask you, is it clamoured by the child,
Or whispered in the corner? do ye know it?”
To which he answered sadly, “Yea, I know it.
Sir Lancelot went ambassador, at first,
To fetch her, and she watched him from her walls.
A rumour runs, she took him for the King,
So fixt her fancy on him: let them be.
But have ye no one word of loyal praise
For Arthur, blameless King and stainless man?”
Sees what his fair bride is and does, and winks?
By which the good King means to blind himself,
And blinds himself and all the Table Round
To all the foulness that they work. Myself
Could call him (were it not for womanhood)
The pretty, popular cause such manhood earns,
Could call him the main cause of all their crime;
Yea, were he not crowned King, coward, and fool.”
“O true and tender! O my liege and King!
O selfless man and stainless gentleman,
Who wouldst against thine own eye-witness fain
Have all men true and leal, all women pure;
How, in the mouths of base interpreters,
From over-fineness not intelligible200
To things with every sense as false and foul
As the poached filth that floods the middle street,
Is thy white blamelessness accounted blame!”
But Vivien, deeming Merlin overborne
By instance, recommenced, and let her tongue
Rage like a fire among the noblest names,
Defaming and defacing, till she left
Not even Lancelot brave, nor Galahad clean.
Her words had issue other than she willed.
A snowy penthouse for his hollow eyes,
And muttered in himself, “Tell her the charm!
So, if she had it, would she rail on me
So will she rail. What did the wanton say?
‘Not mount as high;’ we scarce can sink as low:
For men at most differ as Heaven and earth,
But women, worst and best, as Heaven and Hell.
I know the Table Round, my friends of old;
Being so bitter: for fine plots may fail,
Though harlots paint their talk as well as face
With colours of the heart that are not theirs.
Face-flatterer and backbiter are the same.
Are pronest to it, and impute themselves,
Wanting the mental range; or low desire
Not to feel lowest makes them level all;
Yea, they would pare the mountain to the plain,
To leave an equal baseness; and in this
Are harlots like the crowd, that if they find
Not grieving that their greatest are so small,
And judge all nature from her feet of clay,
Without the will to lift their eyes, and see
Her godlike head crowned with spiritual fire,
And touching other worlds. I am weary of her.”
He spoke in words part heard, in whispers part,
And many-wintered fleece of throat and chin.
And hearing “harlot” muttered twice or thrice,
Leapt from her session on his lap, and stood
Flashed the bare-grinning skeleton of death!
White was her cheek; sharp breaths of anger puffed
She would have stabbed him; but she found it not:
His eye was calm, and suddenly she took
To bitter weeping like a beaten child,
A long, long weeping, not consolable.
“O crueller than was ever told in tale,
O cruel, there was nothing wild or strange,
Or seeming shameful—for what shame in love,
So love be true, and not as yours is—nothing
Poor Vivien had not done to win his trust
Who called her what he called her—all her crime,
All—all—the wish to prove him wholly hers.”
“Stabbed through the heart’s affections to the heart!
Killed with a word worse than a life of blows!
I thought that he was gentle, being great:
O God, that I had loved a smaller man!
I should have found in him a greater heart.
O, I, that flattering my true passion, saw
The knights, the court, the King, dark in your light,
Who loved to make men darker than they are,
Because of that high pleasure which I had
To seat you sole upon my pedestal
Of worship—I am answered, and henceforth
The course of life that seemed so flowery to me
With you for guide and master, only you,
Becomes the sea-cliff pathway broken short,
And ending in a ruin—nothing left,
But into some low cave to crawl, and there,
If the wolf spare me, weep my life away,
Killed with inutterable unkindliness.”
She paused, she turned away, she hung her head,
The snake of gold slid from her hair, the braid
Slipt and uncoiled itself, she wept afresh,
And the dark wood grew darker toward the storm
In silence, while his anger slowly died
Within him, till he let his wisdom go
For ease of heart, and half believed her true:
Called her to shelter in the hollow oak,
“Come from the storm,” and having no reply,
Gazed at the heaving shoulder, and the face
Hand-hidden, as for utmost grief or shame;
Then thrice essayed, by tenderest-touching terms,
At last she let herself be conquered by him,
And as the cageling newly flown returns,
The seeming-injured simple-hearted thing
There while she sat, half-falling from his knees,
Half-nestled at his heart, and since he saw
The slow tear creep from her closed eyelid yet,
About her, more in kindness than in love,
The gentle wizard cast a shielding arm.
But she dislinked herself at once and rose,
Her arms upon her breast across, and stood,
Upright and flushed before him: then she said:
“There must now be no passages of love
Betwixt us twain henceforward evermore;
Since, if I be what I am grossly called,
What should be granted which your own gross heart
Would reckon worth the taking? I will go.
In truth, but one thing now—better have died
Thrice than have asked it once—could make me stay—
That proof of trust—so often asked in vain!
How justly, after that vile term of yours,
I find with grief! I might believe you then,
Who knows? once more. Lo! what was once to me
Mere matter of the fancy, now hath grown
The vast necessity of heart and life.
Farewell; think gently of me, for I fear
My fate or folly, passing gayer youth
For one so old, must be to love thee still.
But ere I leave thee let me swear once more
That if I schemed against thy peace in this,
May yon just heaven, that darkens o’er me, send
One flash, that, missing all things else, may make
Scarce had she ceased, when out of heaven a bolt
(For now the storm was close above them) struck,
The dark earth round. He raised his eyes and saw
The tree that shone white-listed through the gloom.
But Vivien, fearing heaven had heard her oath,
And dazzled by the livid-flickering fork,
That followed, flying back and crying out,
“O Merlin, though you do not love me, save,
Yet save me!” clung to him and hugged him close;
And called him dear protector in her fright,
Nor yet forgot her practice in her fright,
But wrought upon his mood and hugged him close.
The pale blood of the wizard at her touch
Took gayer colours, like an opal warmed.
She shook from fear, and for her fault she wept
Of petulancy; she called him lord and liege,
Her seer, her bard, her silver star of eve,
Her God, her Merlin, the one passionate love
Of her whole life; and ever overhead
Snapt in the rushing of the river-rain
Above them; and in change of glare and gloom
Her eyes and neck glittering went and came;
Till now the storm, its burst of passion spent,
Moaning and calling out of other lands,
To peace; and what should not have been had been,
For Merlin, overtalked and overworn,
Had yielded, told her all the charm, and slept.
Of woven paces and of waving hands,
And in the hollow oak he lay as dead,
And lost to life and use and name and fame.
Then crying “I have made his glory mine,”
Behind her, and the forest echoed “fool.”
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收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
grudge
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| n.不满，怨恨，妒嫉；vt.勉强给，不情愿做 | |
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knight
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| n.骑士，武士；爵士 | |
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3
vows
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| 誓言( vow的名词复数 )； 郑重宣布，许愿 | |
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virgin
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| n.处女，未婚女子；adj.未经使用的；未经开发的 | |
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maiden
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| n.少女，处女；adj.未婚的，纯洁的，无经验的 | |
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passionate
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| adj.热情的，热烈的，激昂的，易动情的，易怒的，性情暴躁的 | |
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7
hurl
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| vt.猛投，力掷，声叫骂 | |
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8
monkish
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| adj.僧侣的，修道士的，禁欲的 | |
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9
fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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10
corpse
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| n.尸体，死尸 | |
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11
filth
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| n.肮脏，污物，污秽；淫猥 | |
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12
maxims
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| n.格言，座右铭( maxim的名词复数 ) | |
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13
cherub
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| n.小天使，胖娃娃 | |
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14
writ
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| n.命令状，书面命令 | |
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15
blessing
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| n.祈神赐福；祷告；祝福，祝愿 | |
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16
stainless
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| adj.无瑕疵的，不锈的 | |
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17
folly
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| n.愚笨，愚蠢，蠢事，蠢行，傻话 | |
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18
perch
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| n.栖木，高位，杆；v.栖息，就位，位于 | |
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19
warps
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| n.弯曲( warp的名词复数 )；歪斜；经线；经纱v.弄弯，变歪( warp的第三人称单数 )；使（行为等）不合情理，使乖戾， | |
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20
lodged
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| v.存放( lodge的过去式和过去分词 )；暂住；埋入；（权利、权威等）归属 | |
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21
wailed
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| v.哭叫，哀号( wail的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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22
wrought
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| v.引起；以…原料制作；运转；adj.制造的 | |
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23
meekly
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| adv.温顺地，逆来顺受地 | |
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24
orphan
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| n.孤儿；adj.无父母的 | |
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25
innocency
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| 无罪，洁白 | |
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26
maidens
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| 处女( maiden的名词复数 )； 少女； 未婚女子； （板球运动）未得分的一轮投球 | |
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27
humbly
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| adv. 恭顺地，谦卑地 | |
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28
plumed
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| 饰有羽毛的 | |
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29
plume
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| n.羽毛；v.整理羽毛，骚首弄姿，用羽毛装饰 | |
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30
hawk
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| n.鹰，骗子；鹰派成员 | |
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31
falcon
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| n.隼，猎鹰 | |
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32
bide
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| v.忍耐；等候；住 | |
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33
beheld
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| v.看，注视( behold的过去式和过去分词 )；瞧；看呀；（叙述中用于引出某人意外的出现）哎哟 | |
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34
liars
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| 说谎者( liar的名词复数 ) | |
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35
dyke
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| n.堤，水坝，排水沟 | |
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36
boundless
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| adj.无限的；无边无际的；巨大的 | |
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37
loathe
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| v.厌恶，嫌恶 | |
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38
leash
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| n.牵狗的皮带，束缚；v.用皮带系住 | |
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39
lure
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| n.吸引人的东西，诱惑物；vt.引诱，吸引 | |
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40
shrilled
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| （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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41
pounced
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| v.突然袭击( pounce的过去式和过去分词 )；猛扑；一眼看出；抓住机会（进行抨击） | |
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42
quarry
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| n.采石场；v.采石；费力地找 | |
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43
slew
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| v.（使）旋转；n.大量，许多 | |
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44
leavened
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| adj.加酵母的v.使（面团）发酵( leaven的过去式和过去分词 )；在…中掺入改变的因素 | |
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45
joust
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| v.马上长枪比武，竞争 | |
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46
withdrawn
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| vt.收回；使退出；vi.撤退，退出 | |
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47
knights
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| 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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48
lavish
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| adj.无节制的；浪费的；vt.慷慨地给予，挥霍 | |
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49
rumour
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| n.谣言，谣传，传闻 | |
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50
corruption
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| n.腐败，堕落，贪污 | |
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51
reverent
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| adj.恭敬的，虔诚的 | |
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52
adoration
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| n.爱慕，崇拜 | |
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53
havens
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| n.港口，安全地方( haven的名词复数 )v.港口，安全地方( haven的第三人称单数 ) | |
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54
bard
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| n.吟游诗人 | |
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55
starry
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| adj.星光照耀的, 闪亮的 | |
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56
sprightly
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| adj.愉快的，活泼的 | |
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57
venom
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| n.毒液，恶毒，痛恨 | |
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58
slander
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| n./v.诽谤，污蔑 | |
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59
petulance
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| n.发脾气，生气，易怒，暴躁，性急 | |
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60
disdained
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| 鄙视( disdain的过去式和过去分词 )； 不屑于做，不愿意做 | |
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61
melancholy
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| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
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62
doom
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| n.厄运，劫数；v.注定，命定 | |
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63
poised
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| a.摆好姿势不动的 | |
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64
touching
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| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
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65
quenched
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| 解（渴）( quench的过去式和过去分词 )； 终止（某事物）； （用水）扑灭（火焰等）； 将（热物体）放入水中急速冷却 | |
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66
reverence
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| 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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67
lissome
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| adj.柔软的；敏捷的 | |
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68
writhed
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| （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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69
droop
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| v.低垂，下垂；凋萎，萎靡 | |
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70
mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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71
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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72
mantle
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| n.斗篷，覆罩之物，罩子；v.罩住，覆盖，脸红 | |
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73
bosom
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| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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74
gilded
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| a.镀金的，富有的 | |
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75
tyrant
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| n.暴君，专制的君主，残暴的人 | |
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76
boon
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| n.恩赐，恩物，恩惠 | |
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77
preamble
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| n.前言；序文 | |
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78
saucily
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| adv.傲慢地，莽撞地 | |
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79
culled
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| v.挑选，剔除( cull的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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80
trickling
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| n.油画底色含油太多而成泡沫状突起v.滴( trickle的现在分词 )；淌；使)慢慢走；缓慢移动 | |
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81
cleft
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| n.裂缝；adj.裂开的 | |
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82
presage
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| n.预感，不祥感；v.预示 | |
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83
expound
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| v.详述；解释；阐述 | |
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84
expounder
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| 陈述者，说明者 | |
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85
yearn
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| v.想念；怀念；渴望 | |
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86
worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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87
muffled
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| 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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88
reticence
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| n.沉默，含蓄 | |
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89
wrath
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| n.愤怒，愤慨，暴怒 | |
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90
jumbled
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| adj.混乱的；杂乱的 | |
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91
conjectural
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| adj.推测的 | |
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92
cleave
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| v．(clave；cleaved)粘着，粘住；坚持；依恋 | |
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93
nadir
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| n.最低点，无底 | |
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94
vice
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| n.坏事；恶习；[pl.]台钳，老虎钳；adj.副的 | |
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95
gnat
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| v.对小事斤斤计较，琐事 | |
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96
bided
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| v.等待，停留( bide的过去式 )；居住；等待；面临 | |
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97
tryst
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| n.约会；v.与…幽会 | |
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98
eyelid
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| n.眼睑，眼皮 | |
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99
caress
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| vt./n.爱抚，抚摸 | |
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100
rift
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| n.裂口，隙缝，切口；v.裂开，割开，渗入 | |
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101
lute
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| n.琵琶，鲁特琴 | |
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102
speck
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| n.微粒，小污点，小斑点 | |
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103
garnered
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| v.收集并（通常）贮藏（某物），取得，获得( garner的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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104
moulders
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| v.腐朽( moulder的第三人称单数 )；腐烂，崩塌 | |
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105
moulder
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| v.腐朽，崩碎 | |
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106
incited
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| 刺激，激励，煽动( incite的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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107
lashed
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| 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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108
warriors
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| 武士，勇士，战士( warrior的名词复数 ) | |
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109
ebbing
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| （指潮水）退( ebb的现在分词 )； 落； 减少； 衰落 | |
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110
ebbed
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| （指潮水）退( ebb的过去式和过去分词 )； 落； 减少； 衰落 | |
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111
relics
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| [pl.］n.遗物，遗迹，遗产；遗体，尸骸 | |
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112
squire
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| n.护卫, 侍从, 乡绅 | |
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113
knightly
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| adj. 骑士般的 adv. 骑士般地 | |
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114
azure
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| adj.天蓝色的，蔚蓝色的 | |
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115
scroll
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| n.卷轴，纸卷；(石刻上的)漩涡 | |
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116
blot
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| vt.弄脏（用吸墨纸）吸干；n.污点，污渍 | |
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117
blotted
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| 涂污( blot的过去式和过去分词 )； （用吸墨纸）吸干 | |
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118
prurient
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| adj.好色的，淫乱的 | |
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119
vassal
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| n.附庸的；属下；adj.奴仆的 | |
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120
dwarfs
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| n.侏儒，矮子（dwarf的复数形式）vt.（使）显得矮小（dwarf的第三人称单数形式） | |
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121
vile
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| adj.卑鄙的，可耻的，邪恶的；坏透的 | |
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122
misty
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| adj.雾蒙蒙的，有雾的 | |
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123
tyrants
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| 专制统治者( tyrant的名词复数 )； 暴君似的人； （古希腊的）僭主； 严酷的事物 | |
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124
dread
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| vt.担忧，忧虑；惧怕，不敢；n.担忧，畏惧 | |
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125
spurt
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| v.喷出；突然进发；突然兴隆 | |
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126
jealousy
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|
| n.妒忌，嫉妒，猜忌 | |
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127
heed
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| v.注意，留意；n.注意，留心 | |
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128
epithet
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| n.（用于褒贬人物等的）表述形容词，修饰语 | |
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129
buxom
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| adj.（妇女）丰满的，有健康美的 | |
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130
prattle
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| n.闲谈；v.（小孩般）天真无邪地说话；发出连续而无意义的声音 | |
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131
tawny
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| adj.茶色的，黄褐色的；n.黄褐色 | |
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132
plundered
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| 掠夺，抢劫( plunder的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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133
isles
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| 岛( isle的名词复数 ) | |
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134
scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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135
slain
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| 杀死，宰杀，杀戮( slay的过去分词 )； (slay的过去分词) | |
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136
impaled
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| 钉在尖桩上( impale的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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137
piracy
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| n.海盗行为，剽窃，著作权侵害 | |
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138
unwilling
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| adj.不情愿的 | |
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139
waned
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| v.衰落( wane的过去式和过去分词 )；（月）亏；变小；变暗淡 | |
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140
rustiest
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| 生锈的( rusty的最高级 )； 荒疏的 | |
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141
brutes
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| 兽( brute的名词复数 )； 畜生； 残酷无情的人； 兽性 | |
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142
brute
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| n.野兽，兽性 | |
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143
homage
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| n.尊敬，敬意，崇敬 | |
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144
dismal
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| adj.阴沉的，凄凉的，令人忧郁的，差劲的 | |
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145
bleached
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| 漂白的，晒白的，颜色变浅的 | |
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146
carrion
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| n.腐肉 | |
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147
gateway
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| n.大门口，出入口，途径，方法 | |
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148
dame
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| n.女士 | |
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149
flirt
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| v.调情，挑逗，调戏；n.调情者，卖俏者 | |
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150
lithe
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| adj.(指人、身体)柔软的，易弯的 | |
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151
tighten
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| v.(使)变紧；(使)绷紧 | |
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152
monstrous
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|
| adj.巨大的；恐怖的；可耻的，丢脸的 | |
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153
crate
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| vt.(up)把…装入箱中；n.板条箱，装货箱 | |
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154
ribs
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| 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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155
spine
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| n.脊柱，脊椎；(动植物的)刺；书脊 | |
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156
sunders
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| v.隔开，分开( sunder的第三人称单数 ) | |
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157
slanting
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| 倾斜的，歪斜的 | |
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158
proffer
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| v.献出，赠送；n.提议，建议 | |
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159
mound
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| n.土墩，堤，小山；v.筑堤，用土堆防卫 | |
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160
brawling
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|
| n.争吵，喧嚷 | |
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161
judgments
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| 判断( judgment的名词复数 )； 鉴定； 评价； 审判 | |
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162
fleas
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| n.跳蚤( flea的名词复数 )；爱财如命；没好气地（拒绝某人的要求） | |
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163
margin
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| n.页边空白；差额；余地，余裕；边，边缘 | |
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164
scribbled
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|
| v.潦草的书写( scribble的过去式和过去分词 )；乱画；草草地写；匆匆记下 | |
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165
crammed
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|
| adj.塞满的，挤满的；大口地吃；快速贪婪地吃v.把…塞满；填入；临时抱佛脚( cram的过去式) | |
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166
densest
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| 密集的( dense的最高级 )； 密度大的； 愚笨的； （信息量大得）难理解的 | |
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167
condensation
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| n.压缩，浓缩；凝结的水珠 | |
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168
sleepless
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|
| adj.不睡眠的，睡不著的，不休息的 | |
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169
mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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170
undo
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| vt.解开，松开；取消，撤销 | |
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171
assay
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| n.试验，测定 | |
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172
babble
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| v.含糊不清地说，胡言乱语地说，儿语 | |
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173
redressing
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| v.改正( redress的现在分词 )；重加权衡；恢复平衡 | |
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174
accusation
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| n.控告，指责，谴责 | |
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175
kinsman
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| n.男亲属 | |
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176
wedded
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|
| 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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177
sundered
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| v.隔开，分开( sunder的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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178
ardent
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| adj.热情的，热烈的，强烈的，烈性的 | |
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179
foul
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| adj.污秽的；邪恶的；v.弄脏；妨害；犯规；n.犯规 | |
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180
prey
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| n.被掠食者，牺牲者，掠食；v.捕食，掠夺，折磨 | |
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181
gust
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| n.阵风，突然一阵（雨、烟等），（感情的）迸发 | |
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182
puffed
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|
| adj.疏松的v.使喷出( puff的过去式和过去分词 )；喷着汽（或烟）移动；吹嘘；吹捧 | |
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183
complexities
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| 复杂性(complexity的名词复数)； 复杂的事物 | |
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184
ornament
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| v.装饰，美化；n.装饰，装饰物 | |
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185
casement
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| n.竖铰链窗；窗扉 | |
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186
glimmered
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| v.发闪光，发微光( glimmer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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187
chastely
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| adv.贞洁地，清高地，纯正地 | |
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188
chaste
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| adj.贞洁的；有道德的；善良的；简朴的 | |
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189
horrid
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| adj.可怕的；令人惊恐的；恐怖的；极讨厌的 | |
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190
foulness
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| n. 纠缠, 卑鄙 | |
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191
brasses
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| n.黄铜( brass的名词复数 )；铜管乐器；钱；黄铜饰品（尤指马挽具上的黄铜圆片） | |
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192
flustered
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|
| adj.慌张的；激动不安的v.使慌乱，使不安( fluster的过去式和过去分词) | |
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193
remorse
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| n.痛恨，悔恨，自责 | |
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194
hymns
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| n.赞美诗，圣歌，颂歌( hymn的名词复数 ) | |
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195
traitor
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| n.叛徒，卖国贼 | |
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196
chuckling
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| 轻声地笑( chuckle的现在分词 ) | |
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197
wink
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| n.眨眼，使眼色，瞬间；v.眨眼，使眼色，闪烁 | |
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198
winks
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| v.使眼色( wink的第三人称单数 )；递眼色（表示友好或高兴等）；（指光）闪烁；闪亮 | |
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199
loathing
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| n.厌恶，憎恨v.憎恨，厌恶( loathe的现在分词)；极不喜欢 | |
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200
intelligible
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| adj.可理解的，明白易懂的，清楚的 | |
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201
imputing
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| v.把（错误等）归咎于( impute的现在分词 ) | |
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202
eyebrow
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| n.眉毛，眉 | |
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203
snare
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| 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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204
repulse
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| n.击退，拒绝；vt.逐退，击退，拒绝 | |
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205
tempted
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| v.怂恿（某人）干不正当的事；冒…的险（tempt的过去分词） | |
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206
tithes
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| n.（宗教捐税）什一税，什一的教区税，小部分( tithe的名词复数 ) | |
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207
impute
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| v.归咎于 | |
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208
blemish
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| v.损害；玷污；瑕疵，缺点 | |
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209
inflate
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| vt.使膨胀，使骄傲，抬高（物价） | |
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210
hoary
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| adj.古老的；鬓发斑白的 | |
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211
gathering
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| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
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212
viper
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| n.毒蛇；危险的人 | |
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213
loathsome
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|
| adj.讨厌的，令人厌恶的 | |
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214
rosy
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| adj.美好的，乐观的，玫瑰色的 | |
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215
nostril
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| n.鼻孔 | |
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216
faltering
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| 犹豫的，支吾的，蹒跚的 | |
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217
dagger
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| n.匕首，短剑，剑号 | |
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218
sobs
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| 啜泣（声），呜咽（声）( sob的名词复数 ) | |
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219
lavished
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| v.过分给予，滥施( lavish的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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220
mused
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| v.沉思，冥想( muse的过去式和过去分词 )；沉思自语说（某事） | |
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221
wailing
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| v.哭叫，哀号( wail的现在分词 )；沱 | |
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222
shriek
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| v./n.尖叫，叫喊 | |
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223
seethed
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| （液体）沸腾( seethe的过去式和过去分词 )； 激动，大怒； 强压怒火； 生闷气(~with sth|~ at sth) | |
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224
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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225
sleek
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| adj.光滑的，井然有序的；v.使光滑，梳拢 | |
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226
ruffled
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| adj. 有褶饰边的, 起皱的 动词ruffle的过去式和过去分词 | |
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227
virtuous
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| adj.有品德的，善良的，贞洁的，有效力的 | |
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228
cinder
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| n.余烬，矿渣 | |
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229
furrowing
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| v.犁田，开沟( furrow的现在分词 ) | |
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230
darted
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| v.投掷，投射( dart的过去式和过去分词 )；向前冲，飞奔 | |
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231
spikes
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| n.穗( spike的名词复数 )；跑鞋；（防滑）鞋钉；尖状物v.加烈酒于( spike的第三人称单数 )；偷偷地给某人的饮料加入（更多）酒精（ 或药物）；把尖状物钉入；打乱某人的计划 | |
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232
deafened
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| 使聋( deafen的过去式和过去分词 )； 使隔音 | |
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233
stammering
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| v.结巴地说出( stammer的现在分词 ) | |
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234
hearsay
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| n.谣传，风闻 | |
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235
bellowed
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| v.发出吼叫声，咆哮（尤指因痛苦）( bellow的过去式和过去分词 )；（愤怒地）说出（某事），大叫 | |
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236
ravaged
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| 毁坏( ravage的过去式和过去分词 )； 蹂躏； 劫掠； 抢劫 | |
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237
shrieking
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| v.尖叫( shriek的现在分词 ) | |
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238
thicket
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| n.灌木丛，树林 | |
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