Within the chamber1 of Lilith all was very still. Zaroba sat there, crouched2 down in what seemed to be her favourite and accustomed corner, busy with the intricate thread-work which she wove with so much celerity;—the lamp burned brightly,—there were odours of frankincense and roses in the air,—and not so much as the sound of a suppressed sigh or soft breath stirred the deep and almost sacred quiet of the room. The tranced Lilith herself, pale but beautiful, lay calm and still as ever among the glistening3 satin cushions of her costly4 couch, and, just above her, the purple draperies that covered the walls and ceiling were drawn5 aside to admit of the opening of a previously-concealed window, through which one or two stars could be seen dimly sparkling in the skies. A white moth6, attracted by the light, had flown in by way of this aperture7, and was now fluttering heedlessly and aimlessly round the lamp,—but by and by it took a lower and less hazardous9 course, and finally settled on a shining corner of the cushion that supported Lilith’s head. There the fragile insect rested,—now expanding its velvety11 white wings, now folding them close and extending its delicate feelers to touch and test the glittering fabric12 on which it found itself at ease,—but never moving from the spot it had evidently chosen for its night’s repose13. Suddenly, and without sound, El-Râmi entered. He advanced close up to the couch, and looked upon the sleeping girl with an eager, almost passionate14 intentness. His heart beat quickly;—a singular excitement possessed15 him, and for once he was unable to analyse his own sensations. Closer and closer he bent16 over Lilith’s exquisite17 form,—doubtfully and with a certain scorn of himself, he took up a shining tress of her glorious hair and looked at it curiously19 as though it were something new, strange, or unnatural20. The little moth, disturbed, flew off the pillow and fluttered about his head in wild alarm, and El-Râmi watched its reckless flight as it made off towards the fatally-attractive lamp again, with meditative21 eyes, still mechanically stroking that soft lock of Lilith’s hair which he held between his fingers.
“Into the light!” he murmured—“Into the very heart of the light!—into the very core of the fire! That is the end of all ambition—to take wings and plunge22 so—into the glowing, burning molten Creative Centre—and die for our foolhardiness? Is that all?—or is there more behind? It is a question,—who may answer it?”
He sighed heavily, and leaned more closely over the couch, till the soft scarcely perceptible breath from Lilith’s lips touched his cheek warmly like a caress23. Observantly, as one might study the parts of a bird or a flower, he noted24 those lips, how delicately curved, how coral-red they were,—and what a soft rose-tint, like the flush of a pink sunrise on white flowers, was the hue25 which spread itself waveringly over her cheeks,—till there,—there where the long eyelashes curled upwards26, there were fine shadows,—shadows which suggested light,—such light as must be burning in those sweetly-closed eyes. Then there was the pure, smooth brow, over which little vine-like tendrils of hair caught and clung amorously,—and then—that wondrous27 wealth of the hair itself which, like twin showers of gold, shed light on either side. It was all beautiful,—a wonderful gem28 of Nature’s handiwork,—a masterpiece of form and colour which, but for him, El-Râmi, would long ere this have mouldered29 away to unsightly ash and bone, in a lonely grave dug hurriedly among the sands of the Syrian desert. He was almost, if not quite, the author of that warm if unnatural vitality30 that flowed through those azure31 veins32 and branching arteries,—he, like the Christ of Galilee, had raised the dead to life,—ay, if he chose, he could say as the Master said to the daughter of Jairus, “Maiden, arise!” and she would obey him—would rise and walk, and smile and speak, and look upon the world,—if he chose! The arrogance33 of Will burned in his brain;—the pride of power, the majesty34 of conscious strength made his pulses beat high with triumph beyond that of any king or emperor,—and he gazed down upon the tranced fair form, himself entranced, and all unconscious that Zaroba had come out of her corner, and that she now stood beside him, watching his face with passionate and inquisitive35 eagerness. Just as he reluctantly lifted himself up from his leaning position he saw her staring at him, and a frown darkened his brows. He made his usual imperative36 sign to her to leave the room,—a sign she was accustomed to understand and to obey—but this time she remained motionless, fixing her eyes steadily37 upon him.
“The conqueror38 shall be conquered, El-Râmi Zarânos—” she said slowly, pointing to the sleeping Lilith—“The victorious39 master over the forces unutterable shall yet be overthrown40! The work has begun,—the small seed has been sown—the great harvest shall be reaped. For in the history of Heaven itself certain proud angels rose up and fought for the possession of supreme41 majesty and power—and they fell,—downbeaten to the darkness,—unforgiven, and are they not in darkness still? Even so must the haughty42 spirit fall that contends against God and the Universal Law.”
She spoke43 impressively, and with a certain dignity of manner that gave an added force to her words,—but El-Râmi’s impassive countenance44 showed no sign of having either heard or understood her. He merely repeated his gesture of dismissal, and this time Zaroba obeyed it. Wrapping her flowing robe closely about her, she withdrew, but with evident reluctance46, letting the velvet10 portière fall only by slow degrees behind her, and to the last keeping her dark deep-set eyes fixed47 on El-Râmi’s face. As soon as she had disappeared, he sprang to where the dividing-curtain hid a massive door between the one room and the ante-chamber,—this door he shut and locked,—then he returned to the couch, and proceeded, according to his usual method, to will the wandering spirit of his “subject” into speech.
“Lilith! Lilith!”
As before, he had to wait ere any reply was vouchsafed48 to him. Impatiently he glanced at the clock, and counted slowly a hundred beats.
“Lilith!”
She turned round towards him, smiled, and murmured something—her lips moved, but whatever they uttered did not reach his ear.
“Lilith! Where are you?”
“Here. Close to you, with your hand on mine.”
El-Râmi was puzzled. True, he held her left hand in his own, but she had never described any actual sensation of human touch before.
“Then,—can you see me?” he asked somewhat anxiously.
The answer came sadly.
“No. Bright air surrounds me, and the colours of the air—nothing more.”
“You are alone, Lilith?”
Oh, what a sigh came heaving from her breast!
“I am always alone!”
Half remorseful50, he heard her. She had complained of solitude51 before,—and it was a thought he did not wish her to dwell upon. He made haste to speak again.
“Tell me,”—he said—“Where have you been, Lilith, and what have you seen?”
There was silence for a minute or two, and she moved restlessly.
“You bade me seek out Hell for you”—she murmured at last—“I have searched, but I cannot find it.”
Another pause, and she went on.
“You spoke of a strange thing,” she said—“A place of punishment, of torture, of darkness, of horror and despair,—there is no such dreary52 blot53 on all God’s fair Creation. In all the golden spaces of the farthest stars I find no punishment, no pain, no darkness. I can discover nothing save beauty, light, and—Love!”
The last word was uttered softly, and sounded like a note of music, sweet but distant.
El-Râmi listened, bewildered, and in a manner disappointed.
“O Lilith, take heed8 what you say!” he exclaimed with some passion—“No pain?—no punishment? no darkness? Then this world is Hell and you know naught54 of it!”
As he said this, she moved uneasily among her pillows,—then, to his amazement55, she suddenly sat up of her own accord, and went on speaking, enunciating her words with singular clearness and emphasis, always keeping her eyes closed and allowing her left hand to remain in his.
“I am bound to tell you what I know;”—she said—“But I am unable to tell you what is not true. In God’s design I find no evil—no punishment, no death. If there are such things, they must be in your world alone,—they must be Man’s work and Man’s imagining.”
“Man’s work—Man’s imagining?” repeated El-Râmi—“And what is man?”
“God’s angel,” replied Lilith quickly—“With God’s own attribute of Free-Will. He, like his Maker56, doth create,—he also doth destroy,—what he elects to do, God will not prevent. Therefore, if Man makes Evil, Evil must exist till Man himself destroys it.”
This was a deep and strange saying, and El-Râmi pondered over it without speaking.
“In the spaces where I roam,” went on Lilith softly—“there is no evil. Those who are the Makers57 of Life in yonder fair regions seek only what is pure. Why should pain exist, or sin be known? I do not understand.”
“No”—said El-Râmi bitterly—“You do not understand, because you are yourself too happy,—happiness sees no fault in anything. Oh, you have wandered too far from earth and you forget! The tie that binds58 you to this planet is over-fragile,—you have lost touch with pain. I would that I could make you feel my thoughts!—for, Lilith, God is cruel, not kind, ... upon God, and God alone, rests the weight of woe59 that burdens the universe, and for the eternal sorrow of things there is neither reason nor remedy.”
“O poor blind eyes!” she murmured—“Sad eyes that are so tired—too tired to bear the light!”
Her voice was so exquisitely61 pathetic that he was startled by its very gentleness,—his heart gave one fierce bound against his side, and then seemed almost to stand still.
“You pity me?” he asked tremulously.
She sighed. “I pity you”—she answered—“I pity myself.”
Almost breathlessly he asked “Why?”
“Because I cannot see you—because you cannot see me. If I could see you—if you could see me as I am, you would know all—you would understand all.”
“I do see you, Lilith,” he said—“I hold your hand.”
“No—not my real hand”—she said—“Only its shadow.”
Instinctively62 he looked at the delicate fingers that lay in his palm—so rosy-tipped and warm. Only the “shadow” of a hand! Then where was its substance?
“It will pass away”—went on Lilith—“like all shadows—but I shall remain—not here, not here,—but elsewhere. When will you let me go?”
“Where do you wish to go?” he asked.
“To my friends,” she answered swiftly and with eagerness—“They call me often—I hear their voices singing ‘Lilith! Lilith!’ and sometimes I see them beckoning63 me—but I cannot reach them. It is cruel, for they love me and you do not,—why will you keep me here unloved so long?”
He trembled and hesitated, fixing his dark eyes on the fair face, which, in spite of its beauty, was to him but as the image of a Sphinx that for ever refused to give up its riddle64.
“Love is no dream;”—she responded—“Love is reality—Love is Life. I am not fully18 living yet—I hover66 in the Realms Between, where spirits wait in silence and alone.”
He sighed. “Then you are sad, Lilith?”
“No. I am never sad. There is light within my solitude, and the glory of God’s beauty everywhere.”
El-Râmi gazed down upon her, an expression very like despair shadowing his own features.
“Too far, too far she wends her flight;”—he muttered to himself wearily. “How can I argue on these vague and sublimated67 utterances68! I cannot understand her joy—she cannot understand my pain. Evidently Heaven’s language is incomprehensible to mortal ears. And yet;—Lilith!” he called again almost imperiously. “You talk of God as if you knew Him. But I—I know Him not—I have not proved Him; tell me of His Shape, His Seeming,—if indeed you have the power.”
She was silent. He studied her tranquil69 face intently,—the smile upon it was in very truth divine.
“No answer!” he said with some derision. “Of course,—what answer should there be! What Shape or Seeming should there be to a mere45 huge blind Force that creates without reason, and destroys without necessity!”
As he thus soliloquised, Lilith stirred, and flung her white arms upward as though in ecstasy70, letting them fall slowly afterwards in a folded position behind her head.
“To the seven declared tones of Music, add seventy million more,”—she said—“and let them ring their sweetest cadence71, they shall make but a feeble echo of the music of God’s voice! To all the shades of radiant colour, to all the lines of noblest form, add the splendour of eternal youth, eternal goodness, eternal joy, eternal power, and yet we shall not render into speech or song the beauty of our God! From His glance flows Light—from His presence rushes Harmony,—as He moves through Space great worlds are born; and at His bidding planets grow within the air like flowers. Oh to see Him passing ’mid the stars!——”
She broke off suddenly and drew a long deep breath, as of sheer delight,—but the shadow on El-Râmi’s features darkened wearily.
“You teach me nothing, Lilith”—he said sadly and somewhat sternly—“You speak of what you see—or what you think you see—but you cannot convince me of its truth.”
Her face grew paler,—the smile vanished from her lips, and all her delicate beauty seemed to freeze into a cold and grave rigidity72.
“Love begets73 faith;”—she said—“Where we do not love, we doubt. Doubt breeds Evil, and Evil knows not God.”
“Platitudes74, upon my life!—mere platitudes!” exclaimed El-Râmi bitterly—“If this half-released spirit can do no more than prate75 of the same old laws and duties our preachers teach us, then indeed my service is vain. But she shall not baffle me thus;”—and, bending over Lilith’s figure, he unwound her arms from the indolent position in which they were folded, took her hands roughly in his own, and, sitting on the edge of her couch, fixed his burning eyes upon her as though he sought to pierce her to the heart’s core with their ardent76, almost cruel lustre77.
“Lilith!” he commanded—“Speak plainly, that I may fully understand your words. You say there is no hell?”
The answer came steadily.
“None.”
“Then must evil go unpunished?”
“And the Prophets!” muttered El-Râmi scornfully—“Well! Go on, strange sprite! Why—for such things are known—why does goodness suffer for being good?”
“That never is. That is impossible.”
“Impossible,”—repeated, the soft voice firmly. “Goodness seems to suffer, but it does not. Evil seems to prosper80, but it does not.”
“And God exists?”
“God exists.”
“And what of Heaven?”
“Which heaven?” asked Lilith—“There are a million million heavens.”
El-Râmi stopped—thinking,—then finally said—
“God’s Heaven.”
“You would say God’s World;”—returned Lilith tranquilly—“Nay, you will not let me reach that centre. I see it; I feel it afar off—but your will binds me—you will not let me go.”
“If I were to let you go, what would you do?” asked El-Râmi—“Would you return to me?”
“Never! Those who enter the Perfect Glory return no more to an imperfect light.”
El-Râmi paused—he was arranging other questions to ask, when her next words startled him—
“Some one called me by my name,”—she said—“Tenderly and softly, as though it were a name beloved. I heard the voice—I could not answer—but I heard it—and I know that some one loves me. The sense of love is sweet, and makes your dreary world seem fair!”
El-Râmi’s heart began to beat violently—the voice of Féraz had reached her in her trance then after all! And she remembered it!—more than this—it had carried a vague emotion of love to that vagrant81 and ethereal essence which he called her “soul” but which he had his doubts of all the while. For he was unable to convince himself positively82 of any such thing as “Soul”;—all emotions, even of the most divinely transcendent nature, he was disposed to set down to the action of brain merely. But he was scientist enough to know that the brain must gather its ideas from something,—something either external or internal,—even such a vague thing as an Idea cannot spring out of blank Chaos83. And this was what especially puzzled him in his experiment with the girl Lilith—for, ever since he had placed her in the “life-in-death” condition she was, he had been careful to avoid impressing any of his own thoughts or ideas upon her. And, as a matter of fact, all she said about God, or about a present or a future state, was precisely84 the reverse of what he himself argued;—the question therefore remained—From Where and How did she get her knowledge? She had been a mere pretty, ignorant, half-barbaric Arab child, when she died (according to natural law), and, during the six years she had lived (by scientific law) in her strange trance, her brain had been absolutely unconscious of all external impressions, while of internal she could have none, beyond the memories of her childhood. Yet,—she had grown beautiful beyond the beauty of mortals, and she spoke of things beyond all mortal comprehension. The riddle of her physical and mental development seemed unanswerable,—it was the wonder, the puzzle, the difficulty, the delight of all El-Râmi’s hours. But now there was mischief85 done. She spoke of love,—not divine impersonal86 love, as was her wont,—but love that touched her own existence with a vaguely87 pleasing emotion. A voice had reached her that never should have been allowed to penetrate88 her spiritual solitude, and realising this, a sullen89 anger smouldered in El-Râmi’s mind. He strove to consider Zaroba’s fault and Féraz’s folly90 with all the leniency91, forbearance, and forgiveness possible, and yet the strange restlessness within him gave him no peace. What should be done? What could be answered to those wistful words—“The sense of love is sweet, and makes your dreary world seem fair”?
He pondered on the matter, vaguely uneasy and dissatisfied. He, and he alone, was the master of Lilith,—he commanded and she obeyed,—but would it be always thus? The doubt turned his blood cold,—suppose she escaped him now, after all his studies and calculations! He resolved he would ask her no more questions that night, and very gently he released the little slender hands he held.
“Go, Lilith!” he said softly—“This world, as you say, is dreary—I will not keep you longer in its gloom—go hence and rest.”
“Rest?” sighed Lilith inquiringly—“Where?”
He bent above her, and touched her loose gold locks almost caressingly92.
“Where you choose!”
“Nay, that I may not!” murmured Lilith sadly. “I have no choice—I must obey the Master’s will.”
El-Râmi’s heart beat high with triumph at these words.
Lilith heard,—a strange glory seemed to shine round her, like a halo round a pictured saint, and the voice that came from her lips rang out with singularly sweet clearness.
“Your will!” she echoed—“Your will—and also—God’s will!”
He started, amazed and irresolute94. The words were not what he expected, and he would have questioned their meaning, but that he saw on the girl’s lovely features a certain pale composed look which he recognised as the look that meant silence.
“Lilith!” he whispered.
No answer. He stood looking down upon her, his face seeming sterner and darker than usual by reason of the intense, passionate anxiety in his burning eyes.
“God’s will!” he echoed with some disdain—“God’s will would have annihilated95 her very existence long ago out in the desert;—what should God do with her now that I have not done?”
His arrogance seemed to be perfectly justifiable96; and yet he very well knew that, strictly97 speaking, there was no such thing as “annihilation” possible to any atom in the universe. Moreover, he did not choose to analyse the mystical reasons as to why he had been permitted by Fate or Chance to obtain such mastery over one human soul,—he preferred to attribute it all to his own discoveries in science,—his own patient and untiring skill,—his own studious comprehension of the forces of Nature,—and he was nearly, if not quite, oblivious98 of the fact that there is a Something behind natural forces, which knows and sees, controls and commands, and against which, if he places himself in opposition99, Man is but the puniest100, most wretched straw that was ever tossed or split by a whirlwind. As a rule, men of science work not for God so much as against Him,—wherefore their most brilliant researches stop short of the goal. Great intellects are seldom devout,—for brilliant culture begets pride—and pride is incompatible101 with faith or worship. Perfect science, combined with perfect selflessness, would give us what we need,—a purified and reasoning Religion. But El-Râmi’s chief characteristic was pride,—and he saw no mischief in it. Strong in his knowledge,—defiant of evil in the consciousness he possessed of his own extraordinary physical and mental endowments, he saw no reason why he should bow down in humiliated102 abasement103 before forces, either natural or spiritual, which he deemed himself able to control. And his brow cleared, as he once more bent over his tranced “subject” and, with all the methodical precaution of a physician, felt her pulse, took note of her temperature, and judged that for the present she needed no more of that strange Elixir104 which kept her veins aglow105 with such inexplicably106 beauteous vitality. Then—his examination done—he left the room; and as he drew the velvet portière behind him the little white moth that had flown in for a night’s shelter fluttered down from the golden lamp like a falling leaf, and dropped on the couch of Lilith, shrivelled and dead.
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
chamber
|
|
| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
crouched
|
|
| v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
glistening
|
|
| adj.闪耀的，反光的v.湿物闪耀，闪亮( glisten的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
costly
|
|
| adj.昂贵的，价值高的，豪华的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
drawn
|
|
| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
moth
|
|
| n.蛾，蛀虫 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
aperture
|
|
| n.孔，隙，窄的缺口 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
heed
|
|
| v.注意，留意；n.注意，留心 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
hazardous
|
|
| adj.(有)危险的，冒险的；碰运气的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
velvet
|
|
| n.丝绒，天鹅绒；adj.丝绒制的，柔软的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
velvety
|
|
| adj. 像天鹅绒的, 轻软光滑的, 柔软的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
fabric
|
|
| n.织物，织品，布；构造，结构，组织 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
repose
|
|
| v.(使)休息；n.安息 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
passionate
|
|
| adj.热情的，热烈的，激昂的，易动情的，易怒的，性情暴躁的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
possessed
|
|
| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
bent
|
|
| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
exquisite
|
|
| adj.精美的；敏锐的；剧烈的，感觉强烈的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
fully
|
|
| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
curiously
|
|
| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
unnatural
|
|
| adj.不自然的；反常的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
meditative
|
|
| adj.沉思的，冥想的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
plunge
|
|
| v.跳入，(使)投入，(使)陷入；猛冲 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
caress
|
|
| vt./n.爱抚，抚摸 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
noted
|
|
| adj.著名的，知名的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
hue
|
|
| n.色度；色调；样子 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
upwards
|
|
| adv.向上，在更高处...以上 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
wondrous
|
|
| adj.令人惊奇的，奇妙的；adv.惊人地；异乎寻常地；令人惊叹地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
gem
|
|
| n.宝石，珠宝；受爱戴的人 [同]jewel | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
mouldered
|
|
| v.腐朽( moulder的过去式和过去分词 )；腐烂，崩塌 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
vitality
|
|
| n.活力，生命力，效力 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
azure
|
|
| adj.天蓝色的，蔚蓝色的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
veins
|
|
| n.纹理；矿脉( vein的名词复数 )；静脉；叶脉；纹理 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
arrogance
|
|
| n.傲慢，自大 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
majesty
|
|
| n.雄伟，壮丽，庄严，威严；最高权威，王权 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
inquisitive
|
|
| adj.求知欲强的，好奇的，好寻根究底的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
imperative
|
|
| n.命令，需要；规则；祈使语气；adj.强制的；紧急的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
steadily
|
|
| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
conqueror
|
|
| n.征服者，胜利者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
victorious
|
|
| adj.胜利的，得胜的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
overthrown
|
|
| adj. 打翻的，推倒的，倾覆的 动词overthrow的过去分词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
supreme
|
|
| adj.极度的，最重要的；至高的，最高的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
haughty
|
|
| adj.傲慢的，高傲的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
spoke
|
|
| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
countenance
|
|
| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
mere
|
|
| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
reluctance
|
|
| n.厌恶，讨厌，勉强，不情愿 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
fixed
|
|
| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
vouchsafed
|
|
| v.给予，赐予( vouchsafe的过去式和过去分词 )；允诺 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
perfectly
|
|
| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
remorseful
|
|
| adj.悔恨的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
solitude
|
|
| n. 孤独; 独居,荒僻之地,幽静的地方 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
dreary
|
|
| adj.令人沮丧的，沉闷的，单调乏味的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
blot
|
|
| vt.弄脏（用吸墨纸）吸干；n.污点，污渍 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
naught
|
|
| n.无，零 [=nought] | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
amazement
|
|
| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
maker
|
|
| n.制造者，制造商 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
makers
|
|
| n.制造者，制造商（maker的复数形式） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
58
binds
|
|
| v.约束( bind的第三人称单数 )；装订；捆绑；（用长布条）缠绕 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
59
woe
|
|
| n.悲哀，苦痛，不幸，困难；int.用来表达悲伤或惊慌 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
posture
|
|
| n.姿势，姿态，心态，态度；v.作出某种姿势 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
61
exquisitely
|
|
| adv.精致地；强烈地；剧烈地；异常地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
62
instinctively
|
|
| adv.本能地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
63
beckoning
|
|
| adj.引诱人的，令人心动的v.（用头或手的动作）示意，召唤( beckon的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
64
riddle
|
|
| n.谜，谜语，粗筛；vt.解谜，给…出谜，筛，检查，鉴定，非难，充满于；vi.出谜 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
65
craving
|
|
| n.渴望,热望 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
66
hover
|
|
| vi.翱翔，盘旋；徘徊；彷徨，犹豫 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
67
sublimated
|
|
| v.（使某物质）升华( sublimate的过去式和过去分词 )；使净化；纯化 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
68
utterances
|
|
| n.发声( utterance的名词复数 )；说话方式；语调；言论 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
69
tranquil
|
|
| adj. 安静的, 宁静的, 稳定的, 不变的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
70
ecstasy
|
|
| n.狂喜，心醉神怡，入迷 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
71
cadence
|
|
| n.（说话声调的）抑扬顿挫 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
72
rigidity
|
|
| adj.钢性，坚硬 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
73
begets
|
|
| v.为…之生父( beget的第三人称单数 )；产生，引起 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
74
platitudes
|
|
| n.平常的话，老生常谈，陈词滥调( platitude的名词复数 )；滥套子 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
75
prate
|
|
| v.瞎扯，胡说 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
76
ardent
|
|
| adj.热情的，热烈的，强烈的，烈性的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
77
lustre
|
|
| n.光亮，光泽；荣誉 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
78
wreaks
|
|
| 诉诸（武力），施行（暴力），发（脾气）( wreak的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
79
queried
|
|
| v.质疑，对…表示疑问( query的过去式和过去分词 )；询问 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
80
prosper
|
|
| v.成功，兴隆，昌盛；使成功，使昌隆，繁荣 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
81
vagrant
|
|
| n.流浪者，游民；adj.流浪的，漂泊不定的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
82
positively
|
|
| adv.明确地，断然，坚决地；实在，确实 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
83
chaos
|
|
| n.混乱，无秩序 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
84
precisely
|
|
| adv.恰好，正好，精确地，细致地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
85
mischief
|
|
| n.损害，伤害，危害；恶作剧，捣蛋，胡闹 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
86
impersonal
|
|
| adj.无个人感情的，与个人无关的，非人称的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
87
vaguely
|
|
| adv.含糊地，暖昧地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
88
penetrate
|
|
| v.透(渗)入；刺入，刺穿；洞察，了解 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
89
sullen
|
|
| adj.愠怒的，闷闷不乐的，(天气等)阴沉的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
90
folly
|
|
| n.愚笨，愚蠢，蠢事，蠢行，傻话 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
91
leniency
|
|
| n.宽大（不严厉） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
92
caressingly
|
|
| 爱抚地，亲切地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
93
marvel
|
|
| vi.(at)惊叹vt.感到惊异；n.令人惊异的事 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
94
irresolute
|
|
| adj.无决断的，优柔寡断的，踌躇不定的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
95
annihilated
|
|
| v.（彻底）消灭( annihilate的过去式和过去分词 )；使无效；废止；彻底击溃 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
96
justifiable
|
|
| adj.有理由的，无可非议的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
97
strictly
|
|
| adv.严厉地，严格地；严密地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
98
oblivious
|
|
| adj.易忘的，遗忘的，忘却的，健忘的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
99
opposition
|
|
| n.反对，敌对 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
100
puniest
|
|
| adj.小于一般尺寸的( puny的最高级 )；微不足道的；弱小的；微弱的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
|
101
incompatible
|
|
| adj.不相容的，不协调的，不相配的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
102
humiliated
|
|
| 感到羞愧的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
103
abasement
|
|
| n.滥用 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
104
elixir
|
|
| n.长生不老药，万能药 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
105
aglow
|
|
| adj.发亮的；发红的；adv.发亮地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
106
inexplicably
|
|
| adv.无法说明地，难以理解地，令人难以理解的是 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |