I hasten to the conclusion of my melancholy1 story. I began to write soon after the period to which I have now conducted it. This was another resource that my mind, ever eager in inventing means to escape from my misery2, suggested. In my haste to withdraw myself from the retreat in Wales, where first the certainty of Mr. Falkland’s menaces was confirmed to me, I left behind me the apparatus3 of my etymological4 enquiries, and the papers I had written upon the subject. I have never been able to persuade myself to resume this pursuit. It is always discouraging, to begin over again a laborious5 task, and exert one’s self to recover a position we had already occupied. I knew not how soon or how abruptly6 I might be driven from any new situation; the appendages7 of the study in which I had engaged were too cumbrous for this state of dependence8 and uncertainty9; they only served to give new sharpness to the enmity of my foe10, and new poignancy11 to my hourly-renewing distress12.
But what was of greatest importance, and made the deepest impression upon my mind, was my separation from the family of Laura. Fool that I was, to imagine that there was any room for me in the abodes13 of friendship and tranquillity15! It was now first, that I felt, with the most intolerable acuteness, how completely I was cut off from the whole human species. Other connections I had gained, comparatively without interest; and I saw them dissolved without the consummation of agony. I had never experienced the purest refinements16 of friendship, but in two instances, that of Collins, and this of the family of Laura. Solitude18, separation, banishment19! These are words often in the mouths of human beings; but few men except myself have felt the full latitude20 of their meaning. The pride of philosophy has taught us to treat man as an individual. He is no such thing. He holds necessarily, indispensably, to his species. He is like those twin-births, that have two heads indeed, and four hands; but, if you attempt to detach them from each other, they are inevitably21 subjected to miserable22 and lingering destruction.
It was this circumstance, more than all the rest, that gradually gorged23 my heart with abhorrence24 of Mr. Falkland. I could not think of his name but with a sickness and a loathing25 that seemed more than human. It was by his means that I suffered the loss of one consolation26 after another, of every thing that was happiness, or that had the resemblance of happiness.
The writing of these memoirs27 served me as a source of avocation28 for several years. For some time I had a melancholy satisfaction in it. I was better pleased to retrace29 the particulars of calamities30 that had formerly31 afflicted32 me, than to look forward, as at other times I was too apt to do, to those by which I might hereafter be overtaken. I conceived that my story, faithfully digested, would carry in it an impression of truth that few men would be able to resist; or, at worst, that, by leaving it behind me when I should no longer continue to exist, posterity33 might be induced to do me justice; and, seeing in my example what sort of evils are entailed34 upon mankind by society as it is at present constituted, might be inclined to turn their attention upon the fountain from which such bitter waters have been accustomed to flow. But these motives35 have diminished in their influence. I have contracted a disgust for life and all its appendages. Writing, which was at first a pleasure, is changed into a burthen. I shall compress into a small compass what remains36 to be told.
I discovered, not long after the period of which I am speaking, the precise cause of the reverse I had experienced in my residence in Wales, and, included in that cause, what it was I had to look for in my future adventures. Mr. Falkland had taken the infernal Gines into his pay, a man critically qualified37 for the service in which he was now engaged, by the unfeeling brutality39 of his temper, by his habits of mind at once audacious and artful, and by the peculiar40 animosity and vengeance41 he had conceived against me. The employment to which this man was hired, was that of following me from place to place, blasting my reputation, and preventing me from the chance, by continuing long in one residence, of acquiring a character for integrity, that should give new weight to any accusation42 I might at a future time be induced to prefer. Ho had come to the seat of my residence with the bricklayers and labourers I have mentioned; and, while he took care to keep out of sight so far as related to me, was industrious43 in disseminating44 that which, in the eye of the world, seemed to amount to a demonstration45 of the profligacy46 and detestableness of my character. It was no doubt from him that the detested47 scroll48 had been procured49, which I had found in my habitation immediately prior to my quitting it. In all this Mr. Falkland, reasoning upon his principles, was only employing a necessary precaution. There was something in the temper of his mind, that impressed him with aversion to the idea of violently putting an end to my existence; at the same time that unfortunately he could never deem himself sufficiently50 secured against my recrimination, so long as I remained alive. As to the fact of Gines being retained by him for this tremendous purpose, he by no means desired that it should become generally known; but neither did he look upon the possibility of its being known with terror. It was already too notorious for his wishes, that I had advanced the most odious51 charges against him. If he regarded me with abhorrence as the adversary52 of his fame, those persons who had had occasion to be in any degree acquainted with our history, did not entertain less abhorrence against me for my own sake. If they should at any time know the pains he exerted in causing my evil reputation to follow me, they would consider it as an act of impartial53 justice, perhaps as a generous anxiety to prevent other men from being imposed upon and injured, as he had been.
What expedient54 was I to employ for the purpose of counteracting55 the meditated56 and barbarous prudence57, which was thus destined58, in all changes of scene, to deprive me of the benefits and consolations59 of human society? There was one expedient against which I was absolutely determined60 — disguise. I had experienced so many mortifications, and such intolerable restraint, when I formerly had recourse to it; it was associated in my memory with sensations of such acute anguish61, that my mind was thus far entirely62 convinced: life was not worth purchasing at so high a price! But, though in this respect I was wholly resolved, there was another point that did not appear so material, and in which therefore I was willing to accommodate myself to circumstances. I was contented63, if that would insure my peace, to submit to the otherwise unmanly expedient of passing by a different name.
But the change of my name, the abruptness64 with which I removed from place to place, the remoteness and the obscurity which I proposed to myself in the choice of my abode14, were all insufficient65 to elude66 the sagacity of Gines, or the unrelenting constancy with which Mr. Falkland incited67 my tormentor68 to pursue me. Whithersoever I removed myself it was not long before I had occasion to perceive this detested adversary in my rear. No words can enable me to do justice to the sensations which this circumstance produced in me. It was like what has been described of the eye of Omniscience69, pursuing the guilty sinner, and darting71 a ray that awakens72 him to new sensibility, at the very moment that, otherwise, exhausted73 nature would lull74 him into a temporary oblivion of the reproaches of his conscience. Sleep fled from my eyes. No walls could hide me from the discernment of this hated foe. Every where his industry was unwearied to create for me new distress. Rest I had none; relief I had none: never could I count upon an instant’s security; never could I wrap myself in the shroud75 of oblivion. The minutes in which I did not actually perceive him, were contaminated and blasted with the certain expectation of his speedy interference. In my first retreat I had passed a few weeks of delusive76 tranquillity, but never after was I happy enough to attain77 to so much as that shadowy gratification. I spent some years in this dreadful vicissitude78 of pain. My sensations at certain periods amounted to insanity79.
I pursued in every succeeding instance the conduct I had adopted at first. I determined never to enter into a contest of accusation and defence with the execrable Gines. If I could have submitted to it in other respects, what purpose would it answer? I should have but an imperfect and mutilated story to tell. This story had succeeded with persons already prepossessed in my favour by personal intercourse81; but could it succeed with strangers? It had succeeded so long as I was able to hide myself from my pursuers; but could it succeed now, that this appeared impracticable, and that they proceeded by arming against me a whole vicinity at once?
It is inconceivable the mischiefs82 that this kind of existence included. Why should I insist upon such aggravations as hunger, beggary, and external wretchedness? These were an inevitable84 consequence. It was by the desertion of mankind that, in each successive instance, I was made acquainted with my fate. Delay in such a moment served but to increase the evil; and when I fled, meagreness and penury85 were the ordinary attendants of my course. But this was a small consideration. Indignation at one time, and unconquerable perseverance86 at another, sustained me, where humanity, left to itself, would probably have sunk.
It has already appeared that I was not of a temper to endure calamity87, without endeavouring, by every means I could devise, to elude and disarm88 it. Recollecting89, as I was habituated to do, the various projects by which my situation could be meliorated, the question occurred to me, “Why should I be harassed91 by the pursuits of this Gines? Why, man to man, may I not, by the powers of my mind, attain the ascendancy92 over him? At present he appears to be the persecutor93, and I the persecuted94: is not this difference the mere95 creature of the imagination? May I not employ my ingenuity96 to vex97 him with difficulties, and laugh at the endless labour to which he will be condemned98?”
Alas99, this is a speculation100 for a mind at ease! It is not the persecution101, but the catastrophe102 which is annexed103 to it, that makes the difference between the tyrant104 and the sufferer! In mere corporal exertion105 the hunter perhaps is upon a level with the miserable animal he pursues! But could it be forgotten by either of us, that at every stage Gines was to gratify his malignant106 passions, by disseminating charges of the most infamous107 nature, and exciting against me the abhorrence of every honest bosom108, while I was to sustain the still-repeated annihilation of my peace, my character, and my bread? Could I, by any refinement17 of reason, convert this dreadful series into sport? I had no philosophy that qualified me for so extraordinary an effort. If, under other circumstances, I could even have entertained so strange an imagination, I was restrained in the present instance by the necessity of providing for myself the means of subsistence, and the fetters109 which, through that necessity, the forms of human society imposed upon my exertions110.
In one of those changes of residence, to which my miserable fate repeatedly compelled me, I met, upon a road which I was obliged to traverse, the friend of my youth, my earliest and best beloved friend, the venerable Collins. It was one of those misfortunes which served to accumulate my distress, that this man had quitted the island of Great Britain only a very few weeks before that fatal reverse of fortune which had ever since pursued me with unrelenting eagerness. Mr. Falkland, in addition to the large estate he possessed80 in England, had a very valuable plantation111 in the West Indies. This property had been greatly mismanaged by the person who had the direction of it on the spot; and, after various promises and evasions112 on his part, which, however they might serve to beguile113 the patience of Mr. Falkland, had been attended with no salutary fruits, it was resolved that Mr. Collins should go over in person, to rectify114 the abuses which had so long prevailed. There had even been some idea of his residing several years, if not settling finally, upon the plantation. From that hour to the present I had never received the smallest intelligence respecting him.
I had always considered the circumstance of his critical absence as one of my severest misfortunes. Mr. Collins had been one of the first persons, even in the period of my infancy115, to conceive hopes of me, as of something above the common standard; and had contributed more than any other to encourage and assist my juvenile116 studies. He had been the executor of the little property of my father, who had fixed117 upon him for that purpose in consideration of the mutual118 affection that existed between us; and I seemed, on every account, to have more claim upon his protection than upon that of any other human being. I had always believed that, had he been present in the crisis of my fortune, he would have felt a conviction of my innocence119; and, convinced himself, would, by means of the venerableness and energy of his character, have interposed so effectually, as to have saved me the greater part of my subsequent misfortunes.
There was yet another idea in my mind relative to this subject, which had more weight with me, than even the substantial exertions of friendship I should have expected from him. The greatest aggravation83 of my present lot was, that I was cut off from the friendship of mankind. I can safely affirm, that poverty and hunger, that endless wanderings, that a blasted character and the curses that clung to my name, were all of them slight misfortunes compared to this. I endeavoured to sustain myself by the sense of my integrity, but the voice of no man upon earth echoed to the voice of my conscience. “I called aloud; but there was none to answer; there was none that regarded.” To me the whole world was unhearing as the tempest, and as cold as the torpedo120. Sympathy, the magnetic virtue121, the hidden essence of our life, was extinct. Nor was this the sum of my misery. This food, so essential to an intelligent existence, seemed perpetually renewing before me in its fairest colours, only the more effectually to elude my grasp, and to mock my hunger. From time to time I was prompted to unfold the affections of my soul, only to be repelled122 with the greater anguish, and to be baffled in a way the most intolerably mortifying123.
No sight therefore could give me a purer delight than that which now presented itself to my eyes. It was some time however, before either of us recognised the person of the other. Ten years had elapsed since our last interview. Mr. Collins looked much older than he had done at that period; in addition to which, he was, in his present appearance, pale, sickly, and thin. These unfavourable effects had been produced by the change of climate, particularly trying to persons in an advanced period of life. Add to which, I supposed him to be at that moment in the West Indies. I was probably as much altered in the period that had elapsed as he had been. I was the first to recollect90 him. He was on horseback; I on foot. I had suffered him to pass me. In a moment the full idea of who he was rushed upon my mind; I ran; I called with an impetuous voice; I was unable to restrain the vehemence124 of my emotions.
The ardour of my feelings disguised my usual tone of speaking, which otherwise Mr. Collins would infallibly have recognised. His sight was already dim; he pulled up his horse till I should overtake him; and then said, “Who are you? I do not know you.”
“My father!” exclaimed I, embracing one of his knees with fervour and delight, “I am your son; once your little Caleb, whom you a thousand times loaded with your kindness!”
The unexpected repetition of my name gave a kind of shuddering125 emotion to my friend, which was however checked by his age, and the calm and benevolent126 philosophy that formed one of his most conspicuous127 habits.
“I did not expect to see you!” replied he: “I did not wish it!”
“My best, my oldest friend!” answered I, respect blending itself with my impatience128, “do not say so! I have not a friend any where in the whole world but you! In you at least let me find sympathy and reciprocal affection! If you knew how anxiously I have thought of you during the whole period of your absence, you would not thus grievously disappoint me in your return!”
“How is it,” said Mr. Collins, gravely, “that you have been reduced to this forlorn condition? Was it not the inevitable consequence of your own actions?”
“The actions of others, not mine! Does not your heart tell you that I am innocent?”
“No. My observation of your early character taught me that you would be extraordinary; but, unhappily, all extraordinary men are not good men: that seems to be a lottery129, dependent on circumstances apparently130 the most trivial.”
“Will you hear my justification131? I am as sure as I am of my existence, that I can convince you of my purity.”
“Certainly, if you require it, I will hear you. But that must not be just now. I could have been glad to decline it wholly. At my age I am not fit for the storm; and I am not so sanguine132 as you in my expectation of the result. Of what would you convince me? That Mr. Falkland is a suborner and murderer?”
I made no answer. My silence was an affirmative to the question.
“And what benefit will result from this conviction? I have known you a promising133 boy, whose character might turn to one side or the other as events should decide. I have known Mr. Falkland in his maturer years, and have always admired him, as the living model of liberality and goodness. If you could change all my ideas, and show me that there was no criterion by which vice38 might be prevented from being mistaken for virtue, what benefit would arise from that? I must part with all my interior consolation, and all my external connections. And for what? What is it you propose? The death of Mr. Falkland by the hands of the hangman.”
“No; I will not hurt a hair of his head, unless compelled to it by a principle of defence. But surely you owe me justice?”
“What justice? The justice of proclaiming your innocence? You know what consequences are annexed to that. But I do not believe I shall find you innocent. If you even succeed in perplexing my understanding, you will not succeed in enlightening it. Such is the state of mankind, that innocence, when involved in circumstances of suspicion, can scarcely ever make out a demonstration of its purity; and guilt70 can often make us feel an insurmountable reluctance134 to the pronouncing it guilt. Meanwhile, for the purchase of this uncertainty, I must sacrifice all the remaining comforts of my life. I believe Mr. Falkland to be virtuous135; but I know him to be prejudiced. He would never forgive me even this accidental parley136, if by any means he should come to be acquainted with it.”
“Oh, argue not the consequences that are possible to result!” answered I, impatiently, “I have a right to your kindness; I have a right to your assistance!”
“You have them. You have them to a certain degree; and it is not likely that, by any process of examination, you can have them entire. You know my habits of thinking. I regard you as vicious; but I do not consider the vicious as proper objects of indignation and scorn. I consider you as a machine; you are not constituted, I am afraid, to be greatly useful to your fellow men: but you did not make yourself; you are just what circumstances irresistibly137 compelled you to be. I am sorry for your ill properties; but I entertain no enmity against you, nothing but benevolence138. Considering you in the light in which I at present consider you, I am ready to contribute every thing in my power to your real advantage, and would gladly assist you, if I knew how, in detecting and extirpating139 the errors that have misled you. You have disappointed me, but I have no reproaches to utter: it is more necessary for me to feel compassion140 for you, than that I should accumulate your misfortune by my censures141.”
What could I say to such a man as this? Amiable142, incomparable man! Never was my mind more painfully divided than at that moment. The more he excited my admiration143, the more imperiously did my heart command me, whatever were the price it should cost, to extort144 his friendship. I was persuaded that severe duty required of him, that he should reject all personal considerations, that he should proceed resolutely145 to the investigation146 of the truth, and that, if he found the result terminating in my favour, he should resign all his advantages, and, deserted147 as I was by the world, make a common cause, and endeavour to compensate148 the general injustice149. But was it for me to force this conduct upon him, if, now in his declining years, his own fortitude150 shrank from it? Alas, neither he nor I foresaw the dreadful catastrophe that was so closely impending151! Otherwise, I am well assured that no tenderness for his remaining tranquillity would have withheld152 him from a compliance153 with my wishes! On the other hand, could I pretend to know what evils might result to him from his declaring himself my advocate? Might not his integrity be browbeaten154 and defeated, as mine had been? Did the imbecility of his grey hairs afford no advantage to my terrible adversary in the contest? Might not Mr. Falkland reduce him to a condition as wretched and low as mine? After all, was it not vice in me to desire to involve another man in my sufferings? If I regarded them as intolerable, this was still an additional reason why I should bear them alone.
Influenced by these considerations, I assented155 to his views. I assented to be thought hardly of by the man in the world whose esteem156 I most ardently157 desired, rather than involve him in possible calamity. I assented to the resigning what appeared to me at that moment as the last practicable comfort of my life; a comfort, upon the thought of which, while I surrendered it, my mind dwelt with undescribable longings158. Mr. Collins was deeply affected159 with the apparent ingenuousness160 with which I expressed my feelings. The secret struggle of his mind was, “Can this be hypocrisy161? The individual with whom I am conferring, if virtuous, is one of the most disinterestedly162 virtuous persons in the world.” We tore ourselves from each other. Mr. Collins promised, as far as he was able, to have an eye upon my vicissitudes163, and to assist me, in every respect that was consistent with a just recollection of consequences. Thus I parted as it were with the last expiring hope of my mind; and voluntarily consented, thus maimed and forlorn, to encounter all the evils that were yet in store for me.
This is the latest event which at present I think it necessary to record. I shall doubtless hereafter have further occasion to take up the pen. Great and unprecedented164 as my sufferings have been, I feel intimately persuaded that there are worse sufferings that await me. What mysterious cause is it that enables me to write this, and not to perish under the horrible apprehension165!
1 melancholy | |
n.忧郁,愁思;adj.令人感伤(沮丧)的,忧郁的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
2 misery | |
n.痛苦,苦恼,苦难;悲惨的境遇,贫苦 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
3 apparatus | |
n.装置,器械;器具,设备 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
4 etymological | |
adj.语源的,根据语源学的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
5 laborious | |
adj.吃力的,努力的,不流畅 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
6 abruptly | |
adv.突然地,出其不意地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
7 appendages | |
n.附属物( appendage的名词复数 );依附的人;附属器官;附属肢体(如臂、腿、尾等) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
8 dependence | |
n.依靠,依赖;信任,信赖;隶属 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
9 uncertainty | |
n.易变,靠不住,不确知,不确定的事物 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
10 foe | |
n.敌人,仇敌 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
11 poignancy | |
n.辛酸事,尖锐 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
12 distress | |
n.苦恼,痛苦,不舒适;不幸;vt.使悲痛 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
13 abodes | |
住所( abode的名词复数 ); 公寓; (在某地的)暂住; 逗留 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
14 abode | |
n.住处,住所 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
15 tranquillity | |
n. 平静, 安静 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
16 refinements | |
n.(生活)风雅;精炼( refinement的名词复数 );改良品;细微的改良;优雅或高贵的动作 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
17 refinement | |
n.文雅;高尚;精美;精制;精炼 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
18 solitude | |
n. 孤独; 独居,荒僻之地,幽静的地方 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
19 banishment | |
n.放逐,驱逐 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
20 latitude | |
n.纬度,行动或言论的自由(范围),(pl.)地区 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
21 inevitably | |
adv.不可避免地;必然发生地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
22 miserable | |
adj.悲惨的,痛苦的;可怜的,糟糕的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
23 gorged | |
v.(用食物把自己)塞饱,填饱( gorge的过去式和过去分词 );作呕 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
24 abhorrence | |
n.憎恶;可憎恶的事 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
25 loathing | |
n.厌恶,憎恨v.憎恨,厌恶( loathe的现在分词);极不喜欢 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
26 consolation | |
n.安慰,慰问 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
27 memoirs | |
n.回忆录;回忆录传( mem,自oir的名词复数) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
28 avocation | |
n.副业,业余爱好 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
29 retrace | |
v.折回;追溯,探源 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
30 calamities | |
n.灾祸,灾难( calamity的名词复数 );不幸之事 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
31 formerly | |
adv.从前,以前 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
32 afflicted | |
使受痛苦,折磨( afflict的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
33 posterity | |
n.后裔,子孙,后代 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
34 entailed | |
使…成为必要( entail的过去式和过去分词 ); 需要; 限定继承; 使必需 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
35 motives | |
n.动机,目的( motive的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
36 remains | |
n.剩余物,残留物;遗体,遗迹 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
37 qualified | |
adj.合格的,有资格的,胜任的,有限制的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
38 vice | |
n.坏事;恶习;[pl.]台钳,老虎钳;adj.副的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
39 brutality | |
n.野蛮的行为,残忍,野蛮 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
40 peculiar | |
adj.古怪的,异常的;特殊的,特有的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
41 vengeance | |
n.报复,报仇,复仇 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
42 accusation | |
n.控告,指责,谴责 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
43 industrious | |
adj.勤劳的,刻苦的,奋发的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
44 disseminating | |
散布,传播( disseminate的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
45 demonstration | |
n.表明,示范,论证,示威 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
46 profligacy | |
n.放荡,不检点,肆意挥霍 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
47 detested | |
v.憎恶,嫌恶,痛恨( detest的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
48 scroll | |
n.卷轴,纸卷;(石刻上的)漩涡 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
49 procured | |
v.(努力)取得, (设法)获得( procure的过去式和过去分词 );拉皮条 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
50 sufficiently | |
adv.足够地,充分地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
51 odious | |
adj.可憎的,讨厌的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
52 adversary | |
adj.敌手,对手 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
53 impartial | |
adj.(in,to)公正的,无偏见的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
54 expedient | |
adj.有用的,有利的;n.紧急的办法,权宜之计 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
55 counteracting | |
对抗,抵消( counteract的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
56 meditated | |
深思,沉思,冥想( meditate的过去式和过去分词 ); 内心策划,考虑 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
57 prudence | |
n.谨慎,精明,节俭 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
58 destined | |
adj.命中注定的;(for)以…为目的地的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
59 consolations | |
n.安慰,慰问( consolation的名词复数 );起安慰作用的人(或事物) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
60 determined | |
adj.坚定的;有决心的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
61 anguish | |
n.(尤指心灵上的)极度痛苦,烦恼 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
62 entirely | |
ad.全部地,完整地;完全地,彻底地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
63 contented | |
adj.满意的,安心的,知足的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
64 abruptness | |
n. 突然,唐突 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
65 insufficient | |
adj.(for,of)不足的,不够的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
66 elude | |
v.躲避,困惑 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
67 incited | |
刺激,激励,煽动( incite的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
68 tormentor | |
n. 使苦痛之人, 使苦恼之物, 侧幕 =tormenter | |
参考例句: |
|
|
69 omniscience | |
n.全知,全知者,上帝 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
70 guilt | |
n.犯罪;内疚;过失,罪责 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
71 darting | |
v.投掷,投射( dart的现在分词 );向前冲,飞奔 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
72 awakens | |
v.(使)醒( awaken的第三人称单数 );(使)觉醒;弄醒;(使)意识到 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
73 exhausted | |
adj.极其疲惫的,精疲力尽的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
74 lull | |
v.使安静,使入睡,缓和,哄骗;n.暂停,间歇 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
75 shroud | |
n.裹尸布,寿衣;罩,幕;vt.覆盖,隐藏 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
76 delusive | |
adj.欺骗的,妄想的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
77 attain | |
vt.达到,获得,完成 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
78 vicissitude | |
n.变化,变迁,荣枯,盛衰 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
79 insanity | |
n.疯狂,精神错乱;极端的愚蠢,荒唐 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
80 possessed | |
adj.疯狂的;拥有的,占有的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
81 intercourse | |
n.性交;交流,交往,交际 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
82 mischiefs | |
损害( mischief的名词复数 ); 危害; 胡闹; 调皮捣蛋的人 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
83 aggravation | |
n.烦恼,恼火 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
84 inevitable | |
adj.不可避免的,必然发生的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
85 penury | |
n.贫穷,拮据 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
86 perseverance | |
n.坚持不懈,不屈不挠 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
87 calamity | |
n.灾害,祸患,不幸事件 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
88 disarm | |
v.解除武装,回复平常的编制,缓和 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
89 recollecting | |
v.记起,想起( recollect的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
90 recollect | |
v.回忆,想起,记起,忆起,记得 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
91 harassed | |
adj. 疲倦的,厌烦的 动词harass的过去式和过去分词 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
92 ascendancy | |
n.统治权,支配力量 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
93 persecutor | |
n. 迫害者 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
94 persecuted | |
(尤指宗教或政治信仰的)迫害(~sb. for sth.)( persecute的过去式和过去分词 ); 烦扰,困扰或骚扰某人 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
95 mere | |
adj.纯粹的;仅仅,只不过 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
96 ingenuity | |
n.别出心裁;善于发明创造 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
97 vex | |
vt.使烦恼,使苦恼 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
98 condemned | |
adj. 被责难的, 被宣告有罪的 动词condemn的过去式和过去分词 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
99 alas | |
int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
100 speculation | |
n.思索,沉思;猜测;投机 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
101 persecution | |
n. 迫害,烦扰 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
102 catastrophe | |
n.大灾难,大祸 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
103 annexed | |
[法] 附加的,附属的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
104 tyrant | |
n.暴君,专制的君主,残暴的人 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
105 exertion | |
n.尽力,努力 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
106 malignant | |
adj.恶性的,致命的;恶意的,恶毒的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
107 infamous | |
adj.声名狼藉的,臭名昭著的,邪恶的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
108 bosom | |
n.胸,胸部;胸怀;内心;adj.亲密的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
109 fetters | |
n.脚镣( fetter的名词复数 );束缚v.给…上脚镣,束缚( fetter的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
110 exertions | |
n.努力( exertion的名词复数 );费力;(能力、权力等的)运用;行使 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
111 plantation | |
n.种植园,大农场 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
112 evasions | |
逃避( evasion的名词复数 ); 回避; 遁辞; 借口 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
113 beguile | |
vt.欺骗,消遣 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
114 rectify | |
v.订正,矫正,改正 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
115 infancy | |
n.婴儿期;幼年期;初期 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
116 juvenile | |
n.青少年,少年读物;adj.青少年的,幼稚的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
117 fixed | |
adj.固定的,不变的,准备好的;(计算机)固定的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
118 mutual | |
adj.相互的,彼此的;共同的,共有的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
119 innocence | |
n.无罪;天真;无害 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
120 torpedo | |
n.水雷,地雷;v.用鱼雷破坏 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
121 virtue | |
n.德行,美德;贞操;优点;功效,效力 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
122 repelled | |
v.击退( repel的过去式和过去分词 );使厌恶;排斥;推开 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
123 mortifying | |
adj.抑制的,苦修的v.使受辱( mortify的现在分词 );伤害(人的感情);克制;抑制(肉体、情感等) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
124 vehemence | |
n.热切;激烈;愤怒 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
125 shuddering | |
v.战栗( shudder的现在分词 );发抖;(机器、车辆等)突然震动;颤动 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
126 benevolent | |
adj.仁慈的,乐善好施的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
127 conspicuous | |
adj.明眼的,惹人注目的;炫耀的,摆阔气的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
128 impatience | |
n.不耐烦,急躁 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
129 lottery | |
n.抽彩;碰运气的事,难于算计的事 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
130 apparently | |
adv.显然地;表面上,似乎 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
131 justification | |
n.正当的理由;辩解的理由 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
132 sanguine | |
adj.充满希望的,乐观的,血红色的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
133 promising | |
adj.有希望的,有前途的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
134 reluctance | |
n.厌恶,讨厌,勉强,不情愿 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
135 virtuous | |
adj.有品德的,善良的,贞洁的,有效力的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
136 parley | |
n.谈判 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
137 irresistibly | |
adv.无法抵抗地,不能自持地;极为诱惑人地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
138 benevolence | |
n.慈悲,捐助 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
139 extirpating | |
v.消灭,灭绝( extirpate的现在分词 );根除 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
140 compassion | |
n.同情,怜悯 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
141 censures | |
v.指责,非难,谴责( censure的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
142 amiable | |
adj.和蔼可亲的,友善的,亲切的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
143 admiration | |
n.钦佩,赞美,羡慕 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
144 extort | |
v.勒索,敲诈,强要 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
145 resolutely | |
adj.坚决地,果断地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
146 investigation | |
n.调查,调查研究 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
147 deserted | |
adj.荒芜的,荒废的,无人的,被遗弃的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
148 compensate | |
vt.补偿,赔偿;酬报 vi.弥补;补偿;抵消 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
149 injustice | |
n.非正义,不公正,不公平,侵犯(别人的)权利 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
150 fortitude | |
n.坚忍不拔;刚毅 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
151 impending | |
a.imminent, about to come or happen | |
参考例句: |
|
|
152 withheld | |
withhold过去式及过去分词 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
153 compliance | |
n.顺从;服从;附和;屈从 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
154 browbeaten | |
v.(以言辞或表情)威逼,恫吓( browbeat的过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
155 assented | |
同意,赞成( assent的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
156 esteem | |
n.尊敬,尊重;vt.尊重,敬重;把…看作 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
157 ardently | |
adv.热心地,热烈地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
158 longings | |
渴望,盼望( longing的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
159 affected | |
adj.不自然的,假装的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
160 ingenuousness | |
n.率直;正直;老实 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
161 hypocrisy | |
n.伪善,虚伪 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
162 disinterestedly | |
参考例句: |
|
|
163 vicissitudes | |
n.变迁,世事变化;变迁兴衰( vicissitude的名词复数 );盛衰兴废 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
164 unprecedented | |
adj.无前例的,新奇的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
165 apprehension | |
n.理解,领悟;逮捕,拘捕;忧虑 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
欢迎访问英文小说网 |