She dwelt unnoticed and alone,
Beside the springs of Dove:
A maid whom there was none to praise,
And very few to love.
Wordsworth.
In the course of their journey the travellers spoke1 little to each other. Magdalen Graeme chanted, from time to time, in a low voice, a part of some one of those beautiful old Latin hymns2 which belong to the Catholic service, muttered an Ave or a Credo, and so passed on, lost in devotional contemplation. The meditations3 of her grandson were more bent4 on mundane5 matters; and many a time, as a moor6-fowl arose from the heath, and shot along the moor, uttering his bold crow of defiance7, he thought of the jolly Adam Woodcock, and his trusty goss-hawk; or, as they passed a thicket8 where the low trees and bushes were intermingled with tall fern, furze, and broom, so as to form a thick and intricate cover, his dreams were of a roebuck and a brace10 of gaze-hounds. But frequently his mind returned to the benevolent11 and kind mistress whom he had left behind him, offended justly, and unreconciled by any effort of his.
“My step would be lighter,” he thought, “and so would my heart, could I but have returned to see her for one instant, and to say, Lady, the orphan12 boy was wild, but not ungrateful!”
Travelling in these divers13 moods, about the hour of noon they reached a small straggling village, in which, as usual, were seen one or two of those predominating towers, or peel houses, which, for reasons of defence elsewhere detailed14, were at that time to be found in every Border hamlet. A brook15 flowed beside the village, and watered the valley in which it stood. There was also a mansion16 at the end of the village, and a little way separated from it, much dilapidated, and in very bad order, but appearing to have been the abode17 of persons of some consideration. The situation was agreeable, being an angle formed by the stream, bearing three or four large sycamore trees, which were in full leaf, and served to relieve the dark appearance of the mansion, which was built of a deep red stone. The house itself was a large one, but was now obviously too big for the inmates18; several windows were built up, especially those which opened from the lower story; others were blockaded in a less substantial manner. The court before the door, which had once been defended with a species of low outer-wall, now ruinous, was paved, but the stones were completely covered with long gray nettles20, thistles, and other weeds, which, shooting up betwixt the flags, had displaced many of them from their level. Even matters demanding more peremptory21 attention had been left neglected, in a manner which argued sloth22 or poverty in the extreme. The stream, undermining a part of the bank near an angle of the ruinous wall, had brought it down, with a corner turret23, the ruins of which lay in the bed of the river. The current, interrupted by the ruins which it had overthrown24, and turned yet nearer to the site of the tower, had greatly enlarged the breach25 it had made, and was in the process of undermining the ground on which the house itself stood, unless it were speedily protected by sufficient bulwarks26.
All this attracted Roland Graeme’s observation, as they approached the dwelling27 by a winding28 path, which gave them, at intervals29, a view of it from different points.
“If we go to yonder house,” he said to his mother, “I trust it is but for a short visit. It looks as if two rainy days from the north-west would send the whole into the brook.”
“You see but with the eyes of the body,” said the old woman; “God will defend his own, though it be forsaken30 and despised of men. Better to dwell on the sand, under his law, than fly to the rock of human trust.”
As she thus spoke, they entered the court before the old mansion, and Roland could observe that the front of it had formerly31 been considerably32 ornamented33 with carved work, in the same dark-coloured freestone of which it was built. But all these ornaments34 had been broken down and destroyed, and only the shattered vestiges35 of niches36 and entablatures now strewed37 the place which they had once occupied. The larger entrance in front was walled up, but a little footpath38, which, from its appearance, seemed to be rarely trodden, led to a small wicket, defended by a door well clenched39 with iron-headed nails, at which Magdalen Graeme knocked three times, pausing betwixt each knock, until she heard an answering tap from within. At the last knock, the wicket was opened by a pale thin female, who said, “Benedicti qui venient in nomine Domini .” They entered, and the portress hastily shut behind them the wicket, and made fast the massive fastenings by which it was secured.
The female led the way through a narrow entrance, into a vestibule of some extent, paved with stone, and having benches of the same solid material ranged around. At the upper end was an oriel window, but some of the intervals formed by the stone shafts40 and mullions were blocked up, so that the apartment was very gloomy.
Here they stopped, and the mistress of the mansion, for such she was, embraced Magdalen Graeme, and greeting her by the title of sister, kissed her with much solemnity, on either side of the face.
“The blessing41 of Our Lady be upon you, my sister,” were her next words; and they left no doubt upon Roland’s mind respecting the religion of their hostess, even if he could have suspected his venerable and zealous42 guide of resting elsewhere than in the habitation of an orthodox Catholic. They spoke together a few words in private, during which he had leisure to remark more particularly the appearance of his grandmother’s friend.
Her age might be betwixt fifty and sixty; her looks had a mixture of melancholy44 and unhappiness that bordered on discontent, and obscured the remains45 of beauty which age had still left on her features. Her dress was of the plainest and most ordinary description, of a dark colour, and, like Magdalen Graeme’s, something approaching to a religious habit. Strict neatness and cleanliness of person, seemed to intimate, that if poor, she was not reduced to squalid or heart-broken distress46, and that she was still sufficiently47 attached to life to retain a taste for its decencies, if not its elegancies. Her manner, as well as her features and appearance, argued an original condition and education far above the meanness of her present appearance. In short, the whole figure was such as to excite the idea, “That female must have had a history worth knowing.” While Roland Graeme was making this very reflection, the whispers of the two females ceased, and the mistress of the mansion, approaching him, looked on his face and person with much attention, and, as it seemed, some interest.
“This, then,” she said, addressing his relative, “is the child of thine unhappy daughter, sister Magdalen; and him, the only shoot from your ancient tree, you are willing to devote to the Good Cause?”
“Yes, by the rood,” answered Magdalen Graeme, in her usual tone of resolved determination, “to the good cause I devote him, flesh and fell, sinew and limb, body and soul.”
“Thou art a happy woman, sister Magdalen,” answered her companion, “that, lifted so high above human affection and human feeling, thou canst bind48 such a victim to the horns of the altar. Had I been called to make such a sacrifice — to plunge49 a youth so young and fair into the plots and bloodthirsty dealings of the time, not the patriarch Abraham, when he led Isaac up the mountain, would have rendered more melancholy obedience50.”
She then continued to look at Roland with a mournful aspect of compassion51, until the intentness of her gaze occasioned his colour to rise, and he was about to move out of its influence, when he was stopped by his grand-mother with one hand, while with the other she divided the hair upon his forehead, which was now crimson52 with bashfulness, while she added, with a mixture of proud affection and firm resolution,—“Ay, look at him well, my sister, for on a fairer face thine eye never rested. I too, when I first saw him, after a long separation, felt as the worldly feel, and was half shaken in my purpose. But no wind can tear a leaf from the withered53 tree which has long been stripped of its foliage54, and no mere55 human casualty can awaken56 the mortal feelings which have long slept in the calm of devotion.”
While the old woman thus spoke, her manner gave the lie to her assertions, for the tears rose to her eyes while she added, “But the fairer and the more spotless the victim, is it not, my sister, the more worthy57 of acceptance?”
She seemed glad to escape from the sensations which agitated58 her, and instantly added, “He will escape, my sister — there will be a ram59 caught in the thicket, and the hand of our revolted brethren shall not be on the youthfull Joseph. Heaven can defend its own rights, even by means of babes and sucklings, of women and beardless boys.”
“Heaven hath left us,” said the other female; “for our sins and our fathers’ the succours of the blessed Saints have abandoned this accursed land. We may win the crown of Martyrdom, but not that of earthly triumph. One, too, whose prudence60 was at this deep crisis so indispensable, has been called to a better world. The Abbot Eustatius is no more.”
“May his soul have mercy!” said Magdalen Graeme, “and may Heaven, too, have mercy upon us, who linger behind in this bloody61 land! His loss is indeed a perilous62 blow to our enterprise; for who remains behind possessing his far-fetched experience, his self-devoted zeal43, his consummate64 wisdom, and his undaunted courage! He hath fallen with the church’s standard in his hand, but God will raise up another to lift the blessed banner. Whom have the Chapter elected in his room?”
“It is rumoured65 no one of the few remaining brethren dare accept the office. The heretics have sworn that they will permit no future election, and will heavily punish any attempt to create a new Abbot of Saint Mary’s. Conjuraverunt inter9 se principes, dicentes, Projiciamus laqueos ejus .”
“Quousque, Domine! ”— ejaculated Magdalen; “this, my sister, were indeed a perilous and fatal breach in our band; but I am firm in my belief, that another will arise in the place of him so untimely removed. Where is thy daughter Catharine?”
“In the parlour,” answered the matron, “but”— She looked at Roland Graeme, and muttered something in the ear of her friend.
“Fear it not,” answered Magdalen Graeme, “it is both lawful66 and necessary — fear nothing from him — I would he were as well grounded in the faith by which alone comes safety, as he is free from thought, deed, or speech of villany. Therein is the heretics’ discipline to be commended, my sister, that they train up their youth in strong morality, and choke up every inlet to youthful folly67.”
“It is but a cleansing68 the outside of the cup,” answered her friend, “a whitening of the sepulchre; but he shall see Catharine, since you, sister, judge it safe and meet.— Follow us, youth,” she added, and led the way from the apartment — with her friend. These were the only words which the matron had addressed to Roland Graeme, who obeyed them in silence. As they paced through several winding passages and waste apartments with a very slow step, the young page had leisure to make some reflections on his situation,— reflections of a nature which his ardent69 temper considered as specially19 disagreeable. It seemed he had now got two mistresses, or tutoresses, instead of one, both elderly women, and both, it would seem, in league to direct his motions according to their own pleasure, and for the accomplishment70 of plans to which he was no party. This, he thought, was too much; arguing reasonably enough, that whatever right his grandmother and benefactress had to guide his motions, she was neither entitled to transfer her authority or divide it with another, who seemed to assume, without ceremony, the same tone of absolute command over him.
“But it shall not long continue thus,” thought Roland; “I will not be all my life the slave of a woman’s whistle, to go when she bids, and come when she calls. No, by Saint Andrew! the hand that can hold the lance is above the control of the distaff. I will leave them the slipp’d collar in their hands on the first opportunity, and let them execute their own devices by their own proper force. It may save them both from peril63, for I guess what they meditate71 is not likely to prove either safe or easy — the Earl of Murray and his heresy72 are too well rooted to be grubbed up by two old women.”
As he thus resolved, they entered a low room, in which a third female was seated. This apartment was the first he had observed in the mansion which was furnished with moveable seats, and with a wooden table, over which was laid a piece of tapestry73. A carpet was spread on the floor, there was a grate in the chimney, and, in brief, the apartment had the air of being habitable and inhabited.
But Roland’s eyes found better employment than to make observations on the accommodations of the chamber74; for this second female inhabitant of the mansion seemed something very different from any thing he had yet seen there. At his first entry, she had greeted with a silent and low obeisance75 the two aged76 matrons, then glancing her eyes towards Roland, she adjusted a veil which hung back over her shoulders, so as to bring it over her face; an operation which she performed with much modesty77, but without either affected78 haste or embarrassed timidity.
During this manoeuvre79 Roland had time to observe, that the face was that of a girl apparently80 not much past sixteen, and that the eyes were at once soft and brilliant. To these very favourable81 observations was added the certainty that the fair object to whom they referred possessed82 an excellent shape, bordering perhaps on enbonpoint , and therefore rather that of a Hebe than of a Sylph, but beautifully formed, and shown to great advantage by the close jacket and petticoat which she wore after a foreign fashion, the last not quite long enough to conceal84 a very pretty foot, which rested on a bar of the table at which she sate85; her round arms and taper86 fingers very busily employed in repairing — the piece of tapestry which was spread on it, which exhibited several deplorable fissures87, enough to demand the utmost skill of the most expert seamstress.
It is to be remarked, that it was by stolen glances that Roland Graeme contrived88 to ascertain89 these interesting particulars; and he thought he could once or twice, notwithstanding the texture90 of the veil, detect the damsel in the act of taking similar cognizance of his own person. The matrons in the meanwhile continued their separate conversation, eyeing from time to time the young people, in a manner which left Roland in no doubt that they were the subject of their conversation. At length he distinctly heard Magdalen Graeme say these words —“Nay, my sister, we must give them opportunity to speak together, and to become acquainted; they must be personally known to each other, or how shall they be able to execute what they are intrusted with?”
It seemed as if the matron, not fully83 satisfied with her friend’s reasoning, continued to offer some objections; but they were borne down by her more dictatorial91 friend.
“It must be so,” she said, “my dear sister; let us therefore go forth92 on the balcony, to finish our conversation.— And do you,” she said, addressing Roland and the girl, “become acquainted with each other.”
With this she stepped up to the young woman, and raising her veil, discovered features which, whatever might be their ordinary complexion93, were now covered with a universal blush.
“Licitum sit, ” said Magdalen, looking at the other matron.
“Vix licitum, ” replied the other, with reluctant and hesitating acquiescence94; and again adjusting the veil of the blushing girl, she dropped it so as to shade, though not to conceal her countenance95, and whispered to her, in a tone loud enough for the page to hear, “Remember, Catharine, who thou art, and for what destined96.”
The matron then retreated with Magdalen Graeme through one of the casements97 of the apartment, that opened on a large broad balcony, which, with its ponderous99 balustrade, had once run along the whole south front of the building which faced the brook, and formed a pleasant and commodious100 walk in the open air. It was now in some places deprived of the balustrade, in others broken and narrowed; but, ruinous as it was, could still be used as a pleasant promenade101. Here then walked the two ancient dames102, busied in their private conversation; yet not so much so, but that Roland could observe the matrons, as their thin forms darkened the casement98 in passing or repassing before it, dart103 a glance into the apartment, to see how matters were going on there.
1 spoke | |
n.(车轮的)辐条;轮辐;破坏某人的计划;阻挠某人的行动 v.讲,谈(speak的过去式);说;演说;从某种观点来说 | |
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2 hymns | |
n.赞美诗,圣歌,颂歌( hymn的名词复数 ) | |
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3 meditations | |
默想( meditation的名词复数 ); 默念; 沉思; 冥想 | |
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4 bent | |
n.爱好,癖好;adj.弯的;决心的,一心的 | |
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5 mundane | |
adj.平凡的;尘世的;宇宙的 | |
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6 moor | |
n.荒野,沼泽;vt.(使)停泊;vi.停泊 | |
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7 defiance | |
n.挑战,挑衅,蔑视,违抗 | |
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8 thicket | |
n.灌木丛,树林 | |
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9 inter | |
v.埋葬 | |
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10 brace | |
n. 支柱,曲柄,大括号; v. 绷紧,顶住,(为困难或坏事)做准备 | |
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11 benevolent | |
adj.仁慈的,乐善好施的 | |
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12 orphan | |
n.孤儿;adj.无父母的 | |
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13 divers | |
adj.不同的;种种的 | |
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14 detailed | |
adj.详细的,详尽的,极注意细节的,完全的 | |
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15 brook | |
n.小河,溪;v.忍受,容让 | |
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16 mansion | |
n.大厦,大楼;宅第 | |
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17 abode | |
n.住处,住所 | |
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18 inmates | |
n.囚犯( inmate的名词复数 ) | |
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19 specially | |
adv.特定地;特殊地;明确地 | |
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20 nettles | |
n.荨麻( nettle的名词复数 ) | |
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21 peremptory | |
adj.紧急的,专横的,断然的 | |
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22 sloth | |
n.[动]树懒;懒惰,懒散 | |
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23 turret | |
n.塔楼,角塔 | |
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24 overthrown | |
adj. 打翻的,推倒的,倾覆的 动词overthrow的过去分词 | |
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25 breach | |
n.违反,不履行;破裂;vt.冲破,攻破 | |
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26 bulwarks | |
n.堡垒( bulwark的名词复数 );保障;支柱;舷墙 | |
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27 dwelling | |
n.住宅,住所,寓所 | |
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28 winding | |
n.绕,缠,绕组,线圈 | |
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29 intervals | |
n.[军事]间隔( interval的名词复数 );间隔时间;[数学]区间;(戏剧、电影或音乐会的)幕间休息 | |
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30 Forsaken | |
adj. 被遗忘的, 被抛弃的 动词forsake的过去分词 | |
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31 formerly | |
adv.从前,以前 | |
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32 considerably | |
adv.极大地;相当大地;在很大程度上 | |
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33 ornamented | |
adj.花式字体的v.装饰,点缀,美化( ornament的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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34 ornaments | |
n.装饰( ornament的名词复数 );点缀;装饰品;首饰v.装饰,点缀,美化( ornament的第三人称单数 ) | |
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35 vestiges | |
残余部分( vestige的名词复数 ); 遗迹; 痕迹; 毫不 | |
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36 niches | |
壁龛( niche的名词复数 ); 合适的位置[工作等]; (产品的)商机; 生态位(一个生物所占据的生境的最小单位) | |
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37 strewed | |
v.撒在…上( strew的过去式和过去分词 );散落于;点缀;撒满 | |
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38 footpath | |
n.小路,人行道 | |
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39 clenched | |
v.紧握,抓紧,咬紧( clench的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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40 shafts | |
n.轴( shaft的名词复数 );(箭、高尔夫球棒等的)杆;通风井;一阵(疼痛、害怕等) | |
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41 blessing | |
n.祈神赐福;祷告;祝福,祝愿 | |
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42 zealous | |
adj.狂热的,热心的 | |
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43 zeal | |
n.热心,热情,热忱 | |
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44 melancholy | |
n.忧郁,愁思;adj.令人感伤(沮丧)的,忧郁的 | |
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45 remains | |
n.剩余物,残留物;遗体,遗迹 | |
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46 distress | |
n.苦恼,痛苦,不舒适;不幸;vt.使悲痛 | |
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47 sufficiently | |
adv.足够地,充分地 | |
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48 bind | |
vt.捆,包扎;装订;约束;使凝固;vi.变硬 | |
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49 plunge | |
v.跳入,(使)投入,(使)陷入;猛冲 | |
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50 obedience | |
n.服从,顺从 | |
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51 compassion | |
n.同情,怜悯 | |
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52 crimson | |
n./adj.深(绯)红色(的);vi.脸变绯红色 | |
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53 withered | |
adj. 枯萎的,干瘪的,(人身体的部分器官)因病萎缩的或未发育良好的 动词wither的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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54 foliage | |
n.叶子,树叶,簇叶 | |
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55 mere | |
adj.纯粹的;仅仅,只不过 | |
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56 awaken | |
vi.醒,觉醒;vt.唤醒,使觉醒,唤起,激起 | |
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57 worthy | |
adj.(of)值得的,配得上的;有价值的 | |
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58 agitated | |
adj.被鼓动的,不安的 | |
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59 ram | |
(random access memory)随机存取存储器 | |
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60 prudence | |
n.谨慎,精明,节俭 | |
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61 bloody | |
adj.非常的的;流血的;残忍的;adv.很;vt.血染 | |
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62 perilous | |
adj.危险的,冒险的 | |
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63 peril | |
n.(严重的)危险;危险的事物 | |
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64 consummate | |
adj.完美的;v.成婚;使完美 [反]baffle | |
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65 rumoured | |
adj.谣传的;传说的;风 | |
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66 lawful | |
adj.法律许可的,守法的,合法的 | |
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67 folly | |
n.愚笨,愚蠢,蠢事,蠢行,傻话 | |
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68 cleansing | |
n. 净化(垃圾) adj. 清洁用的 动词cleanse的现在分词 | |
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69 ardent | |
adj.热情的,热烈的,强烈的,烈性的 | |
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70 accomplishment | |
n.完成,成就,(pl.)造诣,技能 | |
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71 meditate | |
v.想,考虑,(尤指宗教上的)沉思,冥想 | |
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72 heresy | |
n.异端邪说;异教 | |
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73 tapestry | |
n.挂毯,丰富多采的画面 | |
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74 chamber | |
n.房间,寝室;会议厅;议院;会所 | |
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75 obeisance | |
n.鞠躬,敬礼 | |
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76 aged | |
adj.年老的,陈年的 | |
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77 modesty | |
n.谦逊,虚心,端庄,稳重,羞怯,朴素 | |
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78 affected | |
adj.不自然的,假装的 | |
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79 manoeuvre | |
n.策略,调动;v.用策略,调动 | |
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80 apparently | |
adv.显然地;表面上,似乎 | |
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81 favourable | |
adj.赞成的,称赞的,有利的,良好的,顺利的 | |
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82 possessed | |
adj.疯狂的;拥有的,占有的 | |
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83 fully | |
adv.完全地,全部地,彻底地;充分地 | |
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84 conceal | |
v.隐藏,隐瞒,隐蔽 | |
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85 sate | |
v.使充分满足 | |
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86 taper | |
n.小蜡烛,尖细,渐弱;adj.尖细的;v.逐渐变小 | |
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87 fissures | |
n.狭长裂缝或裂隙( fissure的名词复数 );裂伤;分歧;分裂v.裂开( fissure的第三人称单数 ) | |
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88 contrived | |
adj.不自然的,做作的;虚构的 | |
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89 ascertain | |
vt.发现,确定,查明,弄清 | |
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90 texture | |
n.(织物)质地;(材料)构造;结构;肌理 | |
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91 dictatorial | |
adj. 独裁的,专断的 | |
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92 forth | |
adv.向前;向外,往外 | |
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93 complexion | |
n.肤色;情况,局面;气质,性格 | |
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94 acquiescence | |
n.默许;顺从 | |
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95 countenance | |
n.脸色,面容;面部表情;vt.支持,赞同 | |
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96 destined | |
adj.命中注定的;(for)以…为目的地的 | |
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97 casements | |
n.窗扉( casement的名词复数 ) | |
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98 casement | |
n.竖铰链窗;窗扉 | |
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99 ponderous | |
adj.沉重的,笨重的,(文章)冗长的 | |
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100 commodious | |
adj.宽敞的;使用方便的 | |
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101 promenade | |
n./v.散步 | |
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102 dames | |
n.(在英国)夫人(一种封号),夫人(爵士妻子的称号)( dame的名词复数 );女人 | |
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103 dart | |
v.猛冲,投掷;n.飞镖,猛冲 | |
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