“Father!” said he to Jerome, whom he now ceased to treat as Count of Falconara, “what mean these portents6? If I have offended—” the plumes7 were shaken with greater violence than before.
“Unhappy Prince that I am,” cried Manfred. “Holy Father! will you not assist me with your prayers?”
“My Lord,” replied Jerome, “heaven is no doubt displeased9 with your mockery of its servants. Submit yourself to the church; and cease to persecute10 her ministers. Dismiss this innocent youth; and learn to respect the holy character I wear. Heaven will not be trifled with: you see—” the trumpet sounded again.
“I acknowledge I have been too hasty,” said Manfred. “Father, do you go to the wicket, and demand who is at the gate.”
“Do you grant me the life of Theodore?” replied the Friar.
“I do,” said Manfred; “but inquire who is without!”
Jerome, falling on the neck of his son, discharged a flood of tears, that spoke11 the fulness of his soul.
“You promised to go to the gate,” said Manfred.
“I thought,” replied the Friar, “your Highness would excuse my thanking you first in this tribute of my heart.”
“Go, dearest Sir,” said Theodore; “obey the Prince. I do not deserve that you should delay his satisfaction for me.”
“From whom?” said he.
“From the Knight13 of the Gigantic Sabre,” said the Herald; “and I must speak with the usurper14 of Otranto.”
Jerome returned to the Prince, and did not fail to repeat the message in the very words it had been uttered. The first sounds struck Manfred with terror; but when he heard himself styled usurper, his rage rekindled15, and all his courage revived.
“Usurper!—insolent16 villain17!” cried he; “who dares to question my title? Retire, Father; this is no business for Monks18: I will meet this presumptuous20 man myself. Go to your convent and prepare the Princess’s return. Your son shall be a hostage for your fidelity21: his life depends on your obedience22.”
“Good heaven! my Lord,” cried Jerome, “your Highness did but this instant freely pardon my child—have you so soon forgot the interposition of heaven?”
“Heaven,” replied Manfred, “does not send Heralds23 to question the title of a lawful24 Prince. I doubt whether it even notifies its will through Friars—but that is your affair, not mine. At present you know my pleasure; and it is not a saucy25 Herald that shall save your son, if you do not return with the Princess.”
It was in vain for the holy man to reply. Manfred commanded him to be conducted to the postern-gate, and shut out from the castle. And he ordered some of his attendants to carry Theodore to the top of the black tower, and guard him strictly26; scarce permitting the father and son to exchange a hasty embrace at parting. He then withdrew to the hall, and seating himself in princely state, ordered the Herald to be admitted to his presence.
“Well! thou insolent!” said the Prince, “what wouldst thou with me?”
“I come,” replied he, “to thee, Manfred, usurper of the principality of Otranto, from the renowned27 and invincible28 Knight, the Knight of the Gigantic Sabre: in the name of his Lord, Frederic, Marquis of Vicenza, he demands the Lady Isabella, daughter of that Prince, whom thou hast basely and traitorously30 got into thy power, by bribing31 her false guardians33 during his absence; and he requires thee to resign the principality of Otranto, which thou hast usurped34 from the said Lord Frederic, the nearest of blood to the last rightful Lord, Alfonso the Good. If thou dost not instantly comply with these just demands, he defies thee to single combat to the last extremity35.” And so saying the Herald cast down his warder.
“At the distance of a league,” said the Herald: “he comes to make good his Lord’s claim against thee, as he is a true knight, and thou an usurper and ravisher.”
Injurious as this challenge was, Manfred reflected that it was not his interest to provoke the Marquis. He knew how well founded the claim of Frederic was; nor was this the first time he had heard of it. Frederic’s ancestors had assumed the style of Princes of Otranto, from the death of Alfonso the Good without issue; but Manfred, his father, and grandfather, had been too powerful for the house of Vicenza to dispossess them. Frederic, a martial37 and amorous38 young Prince, had married a beautiful young lady, of whom he was enamoured, and who had died in childbed of Isabella. Her death affected39 him so much that he had taken the cross and gone to the Holy Land, where he was wounded in an engagement against the infidels, made prisoner, and reported to be dead. When the news reached Manfred’s ears, he bribed40 the guardians of the Lady Isabella to deliver her up to him as a bride for his son Conrad, by which alliance he had proposed to unite the claims of the two houses. This motive41, on Conrad’s death, had co-operated to make him so suddenly resolve on espousing42 her himself; and the same reflection determined43 him now to endeavour at obtaining the consent of Frederic to this marriage. A like policy inspired him with the thought of inviting44 Frederic’s champion into the castle, lest he should be informed of Isabella’s flight, which he strictly enjoined45 his domestics not to disclose to any of the Knight’s retinue46.
“Herald,” said Manfred, as soon as he had digested these reflections, “return to thy master, and tell him, ere we liquidate47 our differences by the sword, Manfred would hold some converse48 with him. Bid him welcome to my castle, where by my faith, as I am a true Knight, he shall have courteous49 reception, and full security for himself and followers50. If we cannot adjust our quarrel by amicable51 means, I swear he shall depart in safety, and shall have full satisfaction according to the laws of arms: So help me God and His holy Trinity!”
During this interview Jerome’s mind was agitated54 by a thousand contrary passions. He trembled for the life of his son, and his first thought was to persuade Isabella to return to the castle. Yet he was scarce less alarmed at the thought of her union with Manfred. He dreaded55 Hippolita’s unbounded submission56 to the will of her Lord; and though he did not doubt but he could alarm her piety57 not to consent to a divorce, if he could get access to her; yet should Manfred discover that the obstruction58 came from him, it might be equally fatal to Theodore. He was impatient to know whence came the Herald, who with so little management had questioned the title of Manfred: yet he did not dare absent himself from the convent, lest Isabella should leave it, and her flight be imputed59 to him. He returned disconsolately60 to the monastery61, uncertain on what conduct to resolve. A Monk19, who met him in the porch and observed his melancholy62 air, said—
The holy man started, and cried, “What meanest thou, brother? I come this instant from the castle, and left her in perfect health.”
“Martelli,” replied the other Friar, “passed by the convent but a quarter of an hour ago on his way from the castle, and reported that her Highness was dead. All our brethren are gone to the chapel64 to pray for her happy transit65 to a better life, and willed me to wait thy arrival. They know thy holy attachment66 to that good Lady, and are anxious for the affliction it will cause in thee—indeed we have all reason to weep; she was a mother to our house. But this life is but a pilgrimage; we must not murmur—we shall all follow her! May our end be like hers!”
“Good brother, thou dreamest,” said Jerome. “I tell thee I come from the castle, and left the Princess well. Where is the Lady Isabella?”
“Poor Gentlewoman!” replied the Friar; “I told her the sad news, and offered her spiritual comfort. I reminded her of the transitory condition of mortality, and advised her to take the veil: I quoted the example of the holy Princess Sanchia of Arragon.”
“Thy zeal67 was laudable,” said Jerome, impatiently; “but at present it was unnecessary: Hippolita is well—at least I trust in the Lord she is; I heard nothing to the contrary—yet, methinks, the Prince’s earnestness—Well, brother, but where is the Lady Isabella?”
Jerome left his comrade abruptly69, and hastened to the Princess, but she was not in her chamber. He inquired of the domestics of the convent, but could learn no news of her. He searched in vain throughout the monastery and the church, and despatched messengers round the neighbourhood, to get intelligence if she had been seen; but to no purpose. Nothing could equal the good man’s perplexity. He judged that Isabella, suspecting Manfred of having precipitated71 his wife’s death, had taken the alarm, and withdrawn73 herself to some more secret place of concealment75. This new flight would probably carry the Prince’s fury to the height. The report of Hippolita’s death, though it seemed almost incredible, increased his consternation76; and though Isabella’s escape bespoke77 her aversion of Manfred for a husband, Jerome could feel no comfort from it, while it endangered the life of his son. He determined to return to the castle, and made several of his brethren accompany him to attest78 his innocence79 to Manfred, and, if necessary, join their intercession with his for Theodore.
The Prince, in the meantime, had passed into the court, and ordered the gates of the castle to be flung open for the reception of the stranger Knight and his train. In a few minutes the cavalcade80 arrived. First came two harbingers with wands. Next a herald, followed by two pages and two trumpets81. Then a hundred foot-guards. These were attended by as many horse. After them fifty footmen, clothed in scarlet82 and black, the colours of the Knight. Then a led horse. Two heralds on each side of a gentleman on horseback bearing a banner with the arms of Vicenza and Otranto quarterly—a circumstance that much offended Manfred—but he stifled83 his resentment84. Two more pages. The Knight’s confessor telling his beads85. Fifty more footmen clad as before. Two Knights86 habited in complete armour87, their beavers88 down, comrades to the principal Knight. The squires89 of the two Knights, carrying their shields and devices. The Knight’s own squire90. A hundred gentlemen bearing an enormous sword, and seeming to faint under the weight of it. The Knight himself on a chestnut91 steed, in complete armour, his lance in the rest, his face entirely92 concealed93 by his vizor, which was surmounted94 by a large plume8 of scarlet and black feathers. Fifty foot-guards with drums and trumpets closed the procession, which wheeled off to the right and left to make room for the principal Knight.
As soon as he approached the gate he stopped; and the herald advancing, read again the words of the challenge. Manfred’s eyes were fixed95 on the gigantic sword, and he scarce seemed to attend to the cartel: but his attention was soon diverted by a tempest of wind that rose behind him. He turned and beheld the Plumes of the enchanted96 helmet agitated in the same extraordinary manner as before. It required intrepidity97 like Manfred’s not to sink under a concurrence98 of circumstances that seemed to announce his fate. Yet scorning in the presence of strangers to betray the courage he had always manifested, he said boldly—
“Sir Knight, whoever thou art, I bid thee welcome. If thou art of mortal mould, thy valour shall meet its equal: and if thou art a true Knight, thou wilt99 scorn to employ sorcery to carry thy point. Be these omens100 from heaven or hell, Manfred trusts to the righteousness of his cause and to the aid of St. Nicholas, who has ever protected his house. Alight, Sir Knight, and repose101 thyself. To-morrow thou shalt have a fair field, and heaven befriend the juster side!”
The Knight made no reply, but dismounting, was conducted by Manfred to the great hall of the castle. As they traversed the court, the Knight stopped to gaze on the miraculous casque; and kneeling down, seemed to pray inwardly for some minutes. Rising, he made a sign to the Prince to lead on. As soon as they entered the hall, Manfred proposed to the stranger to disarm102, but the Knight shook his head in token of refusal.
“Sir Knight,” said Manfred, “this is not courteous, but by my good faith I will not cross thee, nor shalt thou have cause to complain of the Prince of Otranto. No treachery is designed on my part; I hope none is intended on thine; here take my gage” (giving him his ring): “your friends and you shall enjoy the laws of hospitality. Rest here until refreshments103 are brought. I will but give orders for the accommodation of your train, and return to you.” The three Knights bowed as accepting his courtesy. Manfred directed the stranger’s retinue to be conducted to an adjacent hospital, founded by the Princess Hippolita for the reception of pilgrims. As they made the circuit of the court to return towards the gate, the gigantic sword burst from the supporters, and falling to the ground opposite to the helmet, remained immovable. Manfred, almost hardened to preternatural appearances, surmounted the shock of this new prodigy104; and returning to the hall, where by this time the feast was ready, he invited his silent guests to take their places. Manfred, however ill his heart was at ease, endeavoured to inspire the company with mirth. He put several questions to them, but was answered only by signs. They raised their vizors but sufficiently105 to feed themselves, and that sparingly.
“Sirs” said the Prince, “ye are the first guests I ever treated within these walls who scorned to hold any intercourse106 with me: nor has it oft been customary, I ween, for princes to hazard their state and dignity against strangers and mutes. You say you come in the name of Frederic of Vicenza; I have ever heard that he was a gallant107 and courteous Knight; nor would he, I am bold to say, think it beneath him to mix in social converse with a Prince that is his equal, and not unknown by deeds in arms. Still ye are silent—well! be it as it may—by the laws of hospitality and chivalry108 ye are masters under this roof: ye shall do your pleasure. But come, give me a goblet109 of wine; ye will not refuse to pledge me to the healths of your fair mistresses.”
The principal Knight sighed and crossed himself, and was rising from the board.
“Sir Knight,” said Manfred, “what I said was but in sport. I shall constrain110 you in nothing: use your good liking111. Since mirth is not your mood, let us be sad. Business may hit your fancies better. Let us withdraw, and hear if what I have to unfold may be better relished112 than the vain efforts I have made for your pastime.”
Manfred then conducting the three Knights into an inner chamber, shut the door, and inviting them to be seated, began thus, addressing himself to the chief personage:—
“You come, Sir Knight, as I understand, in the name of the Marquis of Vicenza, to re-demand the Lady Isabella, his daughter, who has been contracted in the face of Holy Church to my son, by the consent of her legal guardians; and to require me to resign my dominions113 to your Lord, who gives himself for the nearest of blood to Prince Alfonso, whose soul God rest! I shall speak to the latter article of your demands first. You must know, your Lord knows, that I enjoy the principality of Otranto from my father, Don Manuel, as he received it from his father, Don Ricardo. Alfonso, their predecessor114, dying childless in the Holy Land, bequeathed his estates to my grandfather, Don Ricardo, in consideration of his faithful services.” The stranger shook his head.
“Sir Knight,” said Manfred, warmly, “Ricardo was a valiant115 and upright man; he was a pious116 man; witness his munificent117 foundation of the adjoining church and two convents. He was peculiarly patronised by St. Nicholas—my grandfather was incapable—I say, Sir, Don Ricardo was incapable—excuse me, your interruption has disordered me. I venerate118 the memory of my grandfather. Well, Sirs, he held this estate; he held it by his good sword and by the favour of St. Nicholas—so did my father; and so, Sirs, will I, come what come will. But Frederic, your Lord, is nearest in blood. I have consented to put my title to the issue of the sword. Does that imply a vicious title? I might have asked, where is Frederic your Lord? Report speaks him dead in captivity119. You say, your actions say, he lives—I question it not—I might, Sirs, I might—but I do not. Other Princes would bid Frederic take his inheritance by force, if he can: they would not stake their dignity on a single combat: they would not submit it to the decision of unknown mutes!—pardon me, gentlemen, I am too warm: but suppose yourselves in my situation: as ye are stout120 Knights, would it not move your choler to have your own and the honour of your ancestors called in question?”
“But to the point. Ye require me to deliver up the Lady Isabella. Sirs, I must ask if ye are authorised to receive her?”
The Knight nodded.
“Receive her,” continued Manfred; “well, you are authorised to receive her, but, gentle Knight, may I ask if you have full powers?”
The Knight nodded.
“’Tis well,” said Manfred; “then hear what I have to offer. Ye see, gentlemen, before you, the most unhappy of men!” (he began to weep); “afford me your compassion121; I am entitled to it, indeed I am. Know, I have lost my only hope, my joy, the support of my house—Conrad died yester morning.”
The Knights discovered signs of surprise.
“Yes, Sirs, fate has disposed of my son. Isabella is at liberty.”
“Do you then restore her?” cried the chief Knight, breaking silence.
“Afford me your patience,” said Manfred. “I rejoice to find, by this testimony122 of your goodwill123, that this matter may be adjusted without blood. It is no interest of mine dictates124 what little I have farther to say. Ye behold125 in me a man disgusted with the world: the loss of my son has weaned me from earthly cares. Power and greatness have no longer any charms in my eyes. I wished to transmit the sceptre I had received from my ancestors with honour to my son—but that is over! Life itself is so indifferent to me, that I accepted your defiance126 with joy. A good Knight cannot go to the grave with more satisfaction than when falling in his vocation127: whatever is the will of heaven, I submit; for alas! Sirs, I am a man of many sorrows. Manfred is no object of envy, but no doubt you are acquainted with my story.”
The Knight made signs of ignorance, and seemed curious to have Manfred proceed.
“Is it possible, Sirs,” continued the Prince, “that my story should be a secret to you? Have you heard nothing relating to me and the Princess Hippolita?”
They shook their heads.
“No! Thus, then, Sirs, it is. You think me ambitious: ambition, alas! is composed of more rugged128 materials. If I were ambitious, I should not for so many years have been a prey129 to all the hell of conscientious130 scruples131. But I weary your patience: I will be brief. Know, then, that I have long been troubled in mind on my union with the Princess Hippolita. Oh! Sirs, if ye were acquainted with that excellent woman! if ye knew that I adore her like a mistress, and cherish her as a friend—but man was not born for perfect happiness! She shares my scruples, and with her consent I have brought this matter before the church, for we are related within the forbidden degrees. I expect every hour the definitive132 sentence that must separate us for ever—I am sure you feel for me—I see you do—pardon these tears!”
The Knights gazed on each other, wondering where this would end.
Manfred continued—
“The death of my son betiding while my soul was under this anxiety, I thought of nothing but resigning my dominions, and retiring for ever from the sight of mankind. My only difficulty was to fix on a successor, who would be tender of my people, and to dispose of the Lady Isabella, who is dear to me as my own blood. I was willing to restore the line of Alfonso, even in his most distant kindred. And though, pardon me, I am satisfied it was his will that Ricardo’s lineage should take place of his own relations; yet where was I to search for those relations? I knew of none but Frederic, your Lord; he was a captive to the infidels, or dead; and were he living, and at home, would he quit the flourishing State of Vicenza for the inconsiderable principality of Otranto? If he would not, could I bear the thought of seeing a hard, unfeeling, Viceroy set over my poor faithful people? for, Sirs, I love my people, and thank heaven am beloved by them. But ye will ask whither tends this long discourse133? Briefly, then, thus, Sirs. Heaven in your arrival seems to point out a remedy for these difficulties and my misfortunes. The Lady Isabella is at liberty; I shall soon be so. I would submit to anything for the good of my people. Were it not the best, the only way to extinguish the feuds134 between our families, if I was to take the Lady Isabella to wife? You start. But though Hippolita’s virtues135 will ever be dear to me, a Prince must not consider himself; he is born for his people.” A servant at that instant entering the chamber apprised136 Manfred that Jerome and several of his brethren demanded immediate137 access to him.
The Prince, provoked at this interruption, and fearing that the Friar would discover to the strangers that Isabella had taken sanctuary138, was going to forbid Jerome’s entrance. But recollecting139 that he was certainly arrived to notify the Princess’s return, Manfred began to excuse himself to the Knights for leaving them for a few moments, but was prevented by the arrival of the Friars. Manfred angrily reprimanded them for their intrusion, and would have forced them back from the chamber; but Jerome was too much agitated to be repulsed140. He declared aloud the flight of Isabella, with protestations of his own innocence.
Manfred, distracted at the news, and not less at its coming to the knowledge of the strangers, uttered nothing but incoherent sentences, now upbraiding141 the Friar, now apologising to the Knights, earnest to know what was become of Isabella, yet equally afraid of their knowing; impatient to pursue her, yet dreading142 to have them join in the pursuit. He offered to despatch70 messengers in quest of her, but the chief Knight, no longer keeping silence, reproached Manfred in bitter terms for his dark and ambiguous dealing143, and demanded the cause of Isabella’s first absence from the castle. Manfred, casting a stern look at Jerome, implying a command of silence, pretended that on Conrad’s death he had placed her in sanctuary until he could determine how to dispose of her. Jerome, who trembled for his son’s life, did not dare contradict this falsehood, but one of his brethren, not under the same anxiety, declared frankly144 that she had fled to their church in the preceding night. The Prince in vain endeavoured to stop this discovery, which overwhelmed him with shame and confusion. The principal stranger, amazed at the contradictions he heard, and more than half persuaded that Manfred had secreted146 the Princess, notwithstanding the concern he expressed at her flight, rushing to the door, said—
Manfred endeavoured to hold him, but the other Knights assisting their comrade, he broke from the Prince, and hastened into the court, demanding his attendants. Manfred, finding it vain to divert him from the pursuit, offered to accompany him and summoning his attendants, and taking Jerome and some of the Friars to guide them, they issued from the castle; Manfred privately147 giving orders to have the Knight’s company secured, while to the knight he affected to despatch a messenger to require their assistance.
The company had no sooner quitted the castle than Matilda, who felt herself deeply interested for the young peasant, since she had seen him condemned149 to death in the hall, and whose thoughts had been taken up with concerting measures to save him, was informed by some of the female attendants that Manfred had despatched all his men various ways in pursuit of Isabella. He had in his hurry given this order in general terms, not meaning to extend it to the guard he had set upon Theodore, but forgetting it. The domestics, officious to obey so peremptory150 a Prince, and urged by their own curiosity and love of novelty to join in any precipitate72 chase, had to a man left the castle. Matilda disengaged herself from her women, stole up to the black tower, and unbolting the door, presented herself to the astonished Theodore.
“Young man,” said she, “though filial duty and womanly modesty151 condemn148 the step I am taking, yet holy charity, surmounting152 all other ties, justifies153 this act. Fly; the doors of thy prison are open: my father and his domestics are absent; but they may soon return. Be gone in safety; and may the angels of heaven direct thy course!”
“Thou art surely one of those angels!” said the enraptured154 Theodore: “none but a blessed saint could speak, could act—could look—like thee. May I not know the name of my divine protectress? Methought thou namedst thy father. Is it possible? Can Manfred’s blood feel holy pity! Lovely Lady, thou answerest not. But how art thou here thyself? Why dost thou neglect thy own safety, and waste a thought on a wretch155 like Theodore? Let us fly together: the life thou bestowest shall be dedicated156 to thy defence.”
“Alas! thou mistakest,” said Matilda, signing: “I am Manfred’s daughter, but no dangers await me.”
“Amazement157!” said Theodore; “but last night I blessed myself for yielding thee the service thy gracious compassion so charitably returns me now.”
“Still thou art in an error,” said the Princess; “but this is no time for explanation. Fly, virtuous158 youth, while it is in my power to save thee: should my father return, thou and I both should indeed have cause to tremble.”
“How!” said Theodore; “thinkest thou, charming maid, that I will accept of life at the hazard of aught calamitous159 to thee? Better I endured a thousand deaths.”
“I run no risk,” said Matilda, “but by thy delay. Depart; it cannot be known that I have assisted thy flight.”
“Swear by the saints above,” said Theodore, “that thou canst not be suspected; else here I vow160 to await whatever can befall me.”
“Oh! thou art too generous,” said Matilda; “but rest assured that no suspicion can alight on me.”
“Give me thy beauteous hand in token that thou dost not deceive me,” said Theodore; “and let me bathe it with the warm tears of gratitude161.”
“Forbear!” said the Princess; “this must not be.”
“Alas!” said Theodore, “I have never known but calamity162 until this hour—perhaps shall never know other fortune again: suffer the chaste163 raptures164 of holy gratitude: ’tis my soul would print its effusions on thy hand.”
“Forbear, and be gone,” said Matilda. “How would Isabella approve of seeing thee at my feet?”
“Who is Isabella?” said the young man with surprise.
“Ah, me! I fear,” said the Princess, “I am serving a deceitful one. Hast thou forgot thy curiosity this morning?”
“Thy looks, thy actions, all thy beauteous self seem an emanation of divinity,” said Theodore; “but thy words are dark and mysterious. Speak, Lady; speak to thy servant’s comprehension.”
“Thou understandest but too well!” said Matilda; “but once more I command thee to be gone: thy blood, which I may preserve, will be on my head, if I waste the time in vain discourse.”
“I go, Lady,” said Theodore, “because it is thy will, and because I would not bring the grey hairs of my father with sorrow to the grave. Say but, adored Lady, that I have thy gentle pity.”
“Stay,” said Matilda; “I will conduct thee to the subterraneous vault165 by which Isabella escaped; it will lead thee to the church of St. Nicholas, where thou mayst take sanctuary.”
“What!” said Theodore, “was it another, and not thy lovely self that I assisted to find the subterraneous passage?”
“It was,” said Matilda; “but ask no more; I tremble to see thee still abide166 here; fly to the sanctuary.”
“To sanctuary,” said Theodore; “no, Princess; sanctuaries167 are for helpless damsels, or for criminals. Theodore’s soul is free from guilt168, nor will wear the appearance of it. Give me a sword, Lady, and thy father shall learn that Theodore scorns an ignominious169 flight.”
“Rash youth!” said Matilda; “thou wouldst not dare to lift thy presumptuous arm against the Prince of Otranto?”
“Not against thy father; indeed, I dare not,” said Theodore. “Excuse me, Lady; I had forgotten. But could I gaze on thee, and remember thou art sprung from the tyrant170 Manfred! But he is thy father, and from this moment my injuries are buried in oblivion.”
“Good heaven! we are overheard!” said the Princess. They listened; but perceiving no further noise, they both concluded it the effect of pent-up vapours. And the Princess, preceding Theodore softly, carried him to her father’s armoury, where, equipping him with a complete suit, he was conducted by Matilda to the postern-gate.
“Avoid the town,” said the Princess, “and all the western side of the castle. ’Tis there the search must be making by Manfred and the strangers; but hie thee to the opposite quarter. Yonder behind that forest to the east is a chain of rocks, hollowed into a labyrinth172 of caverns174 that reach to the sea coast. There thou mayst lie concealed, till thou canst make signs to some vessel175 to put on shore, and take thee off. Go! heaven be thy guide!—and sometimes in thy prayers remember—Matilda!”
Theodore flung himself at her feet, and seizing her lily hand, which with struggles she suffered him to kiss, he vowed176 on the earliest opportunity to get himself knighted, and fervently177 entreated178 her permission to swear himself eternally her knight. Ere the Princess could reply, a clap of thunder was suddenly heard that shook the battlements. Theodore, regardless of the tempest, would have urged his suit: but the Princess, dismayed, retreated hastily into the castle, and commanded the youth to be gone with an air that would not be disobeyed. He sighed, and retired, but with eyes fixed on the gate, until Matilda, closing it, put an end to an interview, in which the hearts of both had drunk so deeply of a passion, which both now tasted for the first time.
Theodore went pensively179 to the convent, to acquaint his father with his deliverance. There he learned the absence of Jerome, and the pursuit that was making after the Lady Isabella, with some particulars of whose story he now first became acquainted. The generous gallantry of his nature prompted him to wish to assist her; but the Monks could lend him no lights to guess at the route she had taken. He was not tempted180 to wander far in search of her, for the idea of Matilda had imprinted181 itself so strongly on his heart, that he could not bear to absent himself at much distance from her abode182. The tenderness Jerome had expressed for him concurred183 to confirm this reluctance184; and he even persuaded himself that filial affection was the chief cause of his hovering185 between the castle and monastery.
Until Jerome should return at night, Theodore at length determined to repair to the forest that Matilda had pointed186 out to him. Arriving there, he sought the gloomiest shades, as best suited to the pleasing melancholy that reigned187 in his mind. In this mood he roved insensibly to the caves which had formerly188 served as a retreat to hermits189, and were now reported round the country to be haunted by evil spirits. He recollected190 to have heard this tradition; and being of a brave and adventurous191 disposition192, he willingly indulged his curiosity in exploring the secret recesses193 of this labyrinth. He had not penetrated194 far before he thought he heard the steps of some person who seemed to retreat before him.
Theodore, though firmly grounded in all our holy faith enjoins195 to be believed, had no apprehension196 that good men were abandoned without cause to the malice197 of the powers of darkness. He thought the place more likely to be infested198 by robbers than by those infernal agents who are reported to molest199 and bewilder travellers. He had long burned with impatience200 to approve his valour. Drawing his sabre, he marched sedately201 onwards, still directing his steps as the imperfect rustling202 sound before him led the way. The armour he wore was a like indication to the person who avoided him. Theodore, now convinced that he was not mistaken, redoubled his pace, and evidently gained on the person that fled, whose haste increasing, Theodore came up just as a woman fell breathless before him. He hasted to raise her, but her terror was so great that he apprehended203 she would faint in his arms. He used every gentle word to dispel204 her alarms, and assured her that far from injuring, he would defend her at the peril205 of his life. The Lady recovering her spirits from his courteous demeanour, and gazing on her protector, said—
“Sure, I have heard that voice before!”
“Not to my knowledge,” replied Theodore; “unless, as I conjecture206, thou art the Lady Isabella.”
“Merciful heaven!” cried she. “Thou art not sent in quest of me, art thou?” And saying those words, she threw herself at his feet, and besought207 him not to deliver her up to Manfred.
“To Manfred!” cried Theodore—“no, Lady; I have once already delivered thee from his tyranny, and it shall fare hard with me now, but I will place thee out of the reach of his daring.”
“Is it possible,” said she, “that thou shouldst be the generous unknown whom I met last night in the vault of the castle? Sure thou art not a mortal, but my guardian32 angel. On my knees, let me thank—”
“Hold! gentle Princess,” said Theodore, “nor demean thyself before a poor and friendless young man. If heaven has selected me for thy deliverer, it will accomplish its work, and strengthen my arm in thy cause. But come, Lady, we are too near the mouth of the cavern173; let us seek its inmost recesses. I can have no tranquillity208 till I have placed thee beyond the reach of danger.”
“Alas! what mean you, sir?” said she. “Though all your actions are noble, though your sentiments speak the purity of your soul, is it fitting that I should accompany you alone into these perplexed209 retreats? Should we be found together, what would a censorious world think of my conduct?”
“I respect your virtuous delicacy,” said Theodore; “nor do you harbour a suspicion that wounds my honour. I meant to conduct you into the most private cavity of these rocks, and then at the hazard of my life to guard their entrance against every living thing. Besides, Lady,” continued he, drawing a deep sigh, “beauteous and all perfect as your form is, and though my wishes are not guiltless of aspiring210, know, my soul is dedicated to another; and although—” A sudden noise prevented Theodore from proceeding211. They soon distinguished212 these sounds—
“Isabella! what, ho! Isabella!” The trembling Princess relapsed into her former agony of fear. Theodore endeavoured to encourage her, but in vain. He assured her he would die rather than suffer her to return under Manfred’s power; and begging her to remain concealed, he went forth213 to prevent the person in search of her from approaching.
At the mouth of the cavern he found an armed Knight, discoursing214 with a peasant, who assured him he had seen a lady enter the passes of the rock. The Knight was preparing to seek her, when Theodore, placing himself in his way, with his sword drawn74, sternly forbad him at his peril to advance.
“One who does not dare more than he will perform,” said Theodore.
“I seek the Lady Isabella,” said the Knight, “and understand she has taken refuge among these rocks. Impede me not, or thou wilt repent216 having provoked my resentment.”
“Thy purpose is as odious217 as thy resentment is contemptible,” said Theodore. “Return whence thou camest, or we shall soon know whose resentment is most terrible.”
The stranger, who was the principal Knight that had arrived from the Marquis of Vicenza, had galloped218 from Manfred as he was busied in getting information of the Princess, and giving various orders to prevent her falling into the power of the three Knights. Their chief had suspected Manfred of being privy219 to the Princess’s absconding220, and this insult from a man, who he concluded was stationed by that Prince to secrete145 her, confirming his suspicions, he made no reply, but discharging a blow with his sabre at Theodore, would soon have removed all obstruction, if Theodore, who took him for one of Manfred’s captains, and who had no sooner given the provocation221 than prepared to support it, had not received the stroke on his shield. The valour that had so long been smothered222 in his breast broke forth at once; he rushed impetuously on the Knight, whose pride and wrath223 were not less powerful incentives224 to hardy225 deeds. The combat was furious, but not long. Theodore wounded the Knight in three several places, and at last disarmed226 him as he fainted by the loss of blood.
The peasant, who had fled on the first onset227, had given the alarm to some of Manfred’s domestics, who, by his orders, were dispersed228 through the forest in pursuit of Isabella. They came up as the Knight fell, whom they soon discovered to be the noble stranger. Theodore, notwithstanding his hatred229 to Manfred, could not behold the victory he had gained without emotions of pity and generosity230. But he was more touched when he learned the quality of his adversary231, and was informed that he was no retainer, but an enemy, of Manfred. He assisted the servants of the latter in disarming232 the Knight, and in endeavouring to stanch233 the blood that flowed from his wounds. The Knight recovering his speech, said, in a faint and faltering234 voice—
“Generous foe235, we have both been in an error. I took thee for an instrument of the tyrant; I perceive thou hast made the like mistake. It is too late for excuses. I faint. If Isabella is at hand—call her—I have important secrets to—”
“He is dying!” said one of the attendants; “has nobody a crucifix about them? Andrea, do thou pray over him.”
“Fetch some water,” said Theodore, “and pour it down his throat, while I hasten to the Princess.”
Saying this, he flew to Isabella, and in few words told her modestly that he had been so unfortunate by mistake as to wound a gentleman from her father’s court, who wished, ere he died, to impart something of consequence to her.
The Princess, who had been transported at hearing the voice of Theodore, as he called to her to come forth, was astonished at what she heard. Suffering herself to be conducted by Theodore, the new proof of whose valour recalled her dispersed spirits, she came where the bleeding Knight lay speechless on the ground. But her fears returned when she beheld the domestics of Manfred. She would again have fled if Theodore had not made her observe that they were unarmed, and had not threatened them with instant death if they should dare to seize the Princess.
The stranger, opening his eyes, and beholding236 a woman, said, “Art thou—pray tell me truly—art thou Isabella of Vicenza?”
“I am,” said she: “good heaven restore thee!”
“Then thou—then thou”—said the Knight, struggling for utterance—“seest—thy father. Give me one—”
“Oh! amazement! horror! what do I hear! what do I see!” cried Isabella. “My father! You my father! How came you here, Sir? For heaven’s sake, speak! Oh! run for help, or he will expire!”
“’Tis most true,” said the wounded Knight, exerting all his force; “I am Frederic thy father. Yes, I came to deliver thee. It will not be. Give me a parting kiss, and take—”
“Sir,” said Theodore, “do not exhaust yourself; suffer us to convey you to the castle.”
“To the castle!” said Isabella. “Is there no help nearer than the castle? Would you expose my father to the tyrant? If he goes thither237, I dare not accompany him; and yet, can I leave him!”
“My child,” said Frederic, “it matters not for me whither I am carried. A few minutes will place me beyond danger; but while I have eyes to dote on thee, forsake238 me not, dear Isabella! This brave Knight—I know not who he is—will protect thy innocence. Sir, you will not abandon my child, will you?”
Theodore, shedding tears over his victim, and vowing239 to guard the Princess at the expense of his life, persuaded Frederic to suffer himself to be conducted to the castle. They placed him on a horse belonging to one of the domestics, after binding240 up his wounds as well as they were able. Theodore marched by his side; and the afflicted241 Isabella, who could not bear to quit him, followed mournfully behind.
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
misgave
|
|
| v.使（某人的情绪、精神等）疑虑，担忧，害怕( misgive的过去式 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
beheld
|
|
| v.看，注视( behold的过去式和过去分词 )；瞧；看呀；（叙述中用于引出某人意外的出现）哎哟 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
miraculous
|
|
| adj.像奇迹一样的，不可思议的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
brazen
|
|
| adj.厚脸皮的，无耻的，坚硬的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
trumpet
|
|
| n.喇叭，喇叭声；v.吹喇叭，吹嘘 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
portents
|
|
| n.预兆( portent的名词复数 )；征兆；怪事；奇物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
plumes
|
|
| 羽毛( plume的名词复数 )； 羽毛饰； 羽毛状物； 升上空中的羽状物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
plume
|
|
| n.羽毛；v.整理羽毛，骚首弄姿，用羽毛装饰 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
displeased
|
|
| a.不快的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
persecute
|
|
| vt.迫害，虐待；纠缠，骚扰 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
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： |
|
|
|
|
12
herald
|
|
| vt.预示...的来临，预告，宣布，欢迎 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
knight
|
|
| n.骑士，武士；爵士 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
usurper
|
|
| n. 篡夺者, 僭取者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
rekindled
|
|
| v.使再燃( rekindle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
insolent
|
|
| adj.傲慢的，无理的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
villain
|
|
| n.反派演员，反面人物；恶棍；问题的起因 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
monks
|
|
| n.修道士，僧侣( monk的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
monk
|
|
| n.和尚，僧侣，修道士 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
presumptuous
|
|
| adj.胆大妄为的，放肆的，冒昧的，冒失的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
fidelity
|
|
| n.忠诚，忠实；精确 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
obedience
|
|
| n.服从，顺从 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
heralds
|
|
| n.使者( herald的名词复数 )；预报者；预兆；传令官v.预示( herald的第三人称单数 )；宣布（好或重要） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
lawful
|
|
| adj.法律许可的，守法的，合法的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
saucy
|
|
| adj.无礼的；俊俏的；活泼的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
strictly
|
|
| adv.严厉地，严格地；严密地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
renowned
|
|
| adj.著名的，有名望的，声誉鹊起的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
invincible
|
|
| adj.不可征服的，难以制服的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
traitor
|
|
| n.叛徒，卖国贼 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
traitorously
|
|
| 叛逆地，不忠地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
|
31
bribing
|
|
| 贿赂 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
guardian
|
|
| n.监护人；守卫者，保护者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
guardians
|
|
| 监护人( guardian的名词复数 )； 保护者，维护者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
usurped
|
|
| 篡夺，霸占( usurp的过去式和过去分词 )； 盗用； 篡夺，篡权 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
extremity
|
|
| n.末端，尽头；尽力；终极；极度 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
braggart
|
|
| n.吹牛者；adj.吹牛的，自夸的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
martial
|
|
| adj.战争的，军事的，尚武的，威武的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
amorous
|
|
| adj.多情的；有关爱情的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
affected
|
|
| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
bribed
|
|
| v.贿赂( bribe的过去式和过去分词 )；向（某人）行贿，贿赂 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
motive
|
|
| n.动机，目的；adv.发动的，运动的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
espousing
|
|
| v.（决定）支持，拥护（目标、主张等）( espouse的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
|
43
determined
|
|
| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
inviting
|
|
| adj.诱人的，引人注目的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
enjoined
|
|
| v.命令( enjoin的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
retinue
|
|
| n.侍从；随员 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
liquidate
|
|
| v.偿付，清算，扫除；整理，破产 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
converse
|
|
| vi.谈话，谈天，闲聊；adv.相反的，相反 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
courteous
|
|
| adj.彬彬有礼的，客气的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
followers
|
|
| 追随者( follower的名词复数 )； 用户； 契据的附面； 从动件 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
amicable
|
|
| adj.和平的，友好的；友善的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
obeisances
|
|
| n.敬礼，行礼( obeisance的名词复数 )；敬意 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
retired
|
|
| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
agitated
|
|
| adj.被鼓动的，不安的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
dreaded
|
|
| adj.令人畏惧的；害怕的v.害怕，恐惧，担心( dread的过去式和过去分词) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
submission
|
|
| n.服从，投降；温顺，谦虚；提出 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
piety
|
|
| n.虔诚，虔敬 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
58
obstruction
|
|
| n.阻塞，堵塞；障碍物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
59
imputed
|
|
| v.把（错误等）归咎于( impute的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
disconsolately
|
|
| adv.悲伤地，愁闷地；哭丧着脸 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
61
monastery
|
|
| n.修道院，僧院，寺院 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
62
melancholy
|
|
| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
63
alas
|
|
| int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
64
chapel
|
|
| n.小教堂，殡仪馆 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
65
transit
|
|
| n.经过，运输；vt.穿越，旋转；vi.越过 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
66
attachment
|
|
| n.附属物，附件；依恋；依附 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
67
zeal
|
|
| n.热心，热情，热忱 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
68
chamber
|
|
| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
69
abruptly
|
|
| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
70
despatch
|
|
| n./v.(dispatch)派遣；发送；n.急件；新闻报道 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
71
precipitated
|
|
| v.（突如其来地）使发生( precipitate的过去式和过去分词 )；促成；猛然摔下；使沉淀 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
72
precipitate
|
|
| adj.突如其来的；vt.使突然发生；n.沉淀物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
73
withdrawn
|
|
| vt.收回；使退出；vi.撤退，退出 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
74
drawn
|
|
| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
75
concealment
|
|
| n.隐藏, 掩盖，隐瞒 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
76
consternation
|
|
| n.大为吃惊，惊骇 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
77
bespoke
|
|
| adj.（产品）订做的；专做订货的v.预定( bespeak的过去式 )；订（货）；证明；预先请求 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
78
attest
|
|
| vt.证明，证实；表明 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
79
innocence
|
|
| n.无罪；天真；无害 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
80
cavalcade
|
|
| n.车队等的行列 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
81
trumpets
|
|
| 喇叭( trumpet的名词复数 )； 小号； 喇叭形物； （尤指）绽开的水仙花 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
82
scarlet
|
|
| n.深红色，绯红色，红衣；adj.绯红色的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
83
stifled
|
|
| （使）窒息， （使）窒闷( stifle的过去式和过去分词 )； 镇压，遏制； 堵 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
84
resentment
|
|
| n.怨愤，忿恨 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
85
beads
|
|
| n.（空心）小珠子( bead的名词复数 )；水珠；珠子项链 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
86
knights
|
|
| 骑士； （中古时代的）武士( knight的名词复数 )； 骑士； 爵士； （国际象棋中）马 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
87
armour
|
|
| （=armor）n.盔甲；装甲部队 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
88
beavers
|
|
| 海狸( beaver的名词复数 )； 海狸皮毛； 棕灰色； 拼命工作的人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
89
squires
|
|
| n.地主，乡绅( squire的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
90
squire
|
|
| n.护卫, 侍从, 乡绅 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
91
chestnut
|
|
| n.栗树，栗子 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
92
entirely
|
|
| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
93
concealed
|
|
| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
94
surmounted
|
|
| 战胜( surmount的过去式和过去分词 )； 克服（困难）； 居于…之上； 在…顶上 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
95
fixed
|
|
| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
96
enchanted
|
|
| adj. 被施魔法的，陶醉的，入迷的 动词enchant的过去式和过去分词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
97
intrepidity
|
|
| n.大胆，刚勇；大胆的行为 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
98
concurrence
|
|
| n.同意；并发 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
99
wilt
|
|
| v.(使)植物凋谢或枯萎；(指人)疲倦，衰弱 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
100
omens
|
|
| n.前兆，预兆( omen的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
101
repose
|
|
| v.(使)休息；n.安息 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
102
disarm
|
|
| v.解除武装，回复平常的编制，缓和 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
103
refreshments
|
|
| n.点心,便餐;(会议后的)简单茶点招 待 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
104
prodigy
|
|
| n.惊人的事物，奇迹，神童，天才，预兆 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
105
sufficiently
|
|
| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
106
intercourse
|
|
| n.性交；交流，交往，交际 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
107
gallant
|
|
| adj.英勇的，豪侠的；(向女人)献殷勤的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
108
chivalry
|
|
| n.骑士气概，侠义；（男人）对女人彬彬有礼，献殷勤 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
109
goblet
|
|
| n.高脚酒杯 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
110
constrain
|
|
| vt.限制，约束；克制，抑制 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
111
liking
|
|
| n.爱好；嗜好；喜欢 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
112
relished
|
|
| v.欣赏( relish的过去式和过去分词 )；从…获得乐趣；渴望 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
113
dominions
|
|
| 统治权( dominion的名词复数 )； 领土； 疆土； 版图 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
114
predecessor
|
|
| n.前辈，前任 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
115
valiant
|
|
| adj.勇敢的，英勇的；n.勇士，勇敢的人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
116
pious
|
|
| adj.虔诚的；道貌岸然的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
117
munificent
|
|
| adj.慷慨的，大方的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
118
venerate
|
|
| v.尊敬，崇敬，崇拜 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
119
captivity
|
|
| n.囚禁；被俘；束缚 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
121
compassion
|
|
| n.同情，怜悯 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
122
testimony
|
|
| n.证词；见证，证明 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
123
goodwill
|
|
| n.善意，亲善，信誉，声誉 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
124
dictates
|
|
| n.命令，规定，要求( dictate的名词复数 )v.大声讲或读( dictate的第三人称单数 )；口授；支配；摆布 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
125
behold
|
|
| v.看，注视，看到 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
126
defiance
|
|
| n.挑战，挑衅，蔑视，违抗 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
127
vocation
|
|
| n.职业，行业 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
128
rugged
|
|
| adj.高低不平的，粗糙的，粗壮的，强健的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
129
prey
|
|
| n.被掠食者，牺牲者，掠食；v.捕食，掠夺，折磨 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
130
conscientious
|
|
| adj.审慎正直的，认真的，本着良心的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
131
scruples
|
|
| n.良心上的不安( scruple的名词复数 )；顾虑，顾忌v.感到于心不安，有顾忌( scruple的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
132
definitive
|
|
| adj.确切的，权威性的；最后的，决定性的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
133
discourse
|
|
| n.论文，演说；谈话；话语；vi.讲述，著述 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
134
feuds
|
|
| n.长期不和，世仇( feud的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
135
virtues
|
|
| 美德( virtue的名词复数 )； 德行； 优点； 长处 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
136
apprised
|
|
| v.告知，通知( apprise的过去式和过去分词 )；评价 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
137
immediate
|
|
| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
138
sanctuary
|
|
| n.圣所，圣堂，寺庙；禁猎区，保护区 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
139
recollecting
|
|
| v.记起，想起( recollect的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
140
repulsed
|
|
| v.击退( repulse的过去式和过去分词 )；驳斥；拒绝 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
141
upbraiding
|
|
| adj.& n.谴责（的）v.责备，申斥，谴责( upbraid的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
142
dreading
|
|
| v.害怕，恐惧，担心( dread的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
143
dealing
|
|
| n.经商方法，待人态度 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
144
frankly
|
|
| adv.坦白地，直率地；坦率地说 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
145
secrete
|
|
| vt.分泌；隐匿，使隐秘 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
146
secreted
|
|
| v.（尤指动物或植物器官）分泌( secrete的过去式和过去分词 )；隐匿，隐藏 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
147
privately
|
|
| adv.以私人的身份，悄悄地，私下地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
148
condemn
|
|
| vt.谴责，指责；宣判(罪犯)，判刑 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
149
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： |
|
|
|
|
150
peremptory
|
|
| adj.紧急的，专横的，断然的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
151
modesty
|
|
| n.谦逊，虚心，端庄，稳重，羞怯，朴素 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
152
surmounting
|
|
| 战胜( surmount的现在分词 )； 克服（困难）； 居于…之上； 在…顶上 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
153
justifies
|
|
| 证明…有理( justify的第三人称单数 )； 为…辩护； 对…作出解释； 为…辩解（或辩护） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
154
enraptured
|
|
| v.使狂喜( enrapture的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
155
wretch
|
|
| n.可怜的人，不幸的人；卑鄙的人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
156
dedicated
|
|
| adj.一心一意的；献身的；热诚的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
157
amazement
|
|
| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
158
virtuous
|
|
| adj.有品德的，善良的，贞洁的，有效力的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
159
calamitous
|
|
| adj.灾难的，悲惨的；多灾多难；惨重 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
160
vow
|
|
| n.誓(言)，誓约；v.起誓，立誓 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
161
gratitude
|
|
| adj.感激，感谢 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
162
calamity
|
|
| n.灾害，祸患，不幸事件 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
163
chaste
|
|
| adj.贞洁的；有道德的；善良的；简朴的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
164
raptures
|
|
| 极度欢喜( rapture的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
165
vault
|
|
| n.拱形圆顶，地窖，地下室 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
166
abide
|
|
| vi.遵守；坚持；vt.忍受 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
167
sanctuaries
|
|
| n.避难所( sanctuary的名词复数 )；庇护；圣所；庇护所 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
168
guilt
|
|
| n.犯罪；内疚；过失，罪责 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
169
ignominious
|
|
| adj.可鄙的，不光彩的，耻辱的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
170
tyrant
|
|
| n.暴君，专制的君主，残暴的人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
171
groan
|
|
| vi./n.呻吟，抱怨；(发出)呻吟般的声音 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
172
labyrinth
|
|
| n.迷宫；难解的事物；迷路 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
173
cavern
|
|
| n.洞穴，大山洞 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
174
caverns
|
|
| 大山洞，大洞穴( cavern的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
175
vessel
|
|
| n.船舶；容器，器皿；管，导管，血管 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
176
vowed
|
|
| 起誓，发誓（vow的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
177
fervently
|
|
| adv.热烈地，热情地，强烈地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
178
entreated
|
|
| 恳求，乞求( entreat的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
179
pensively
|
|
| adv.沉思地，焦虑地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
180
tempted
|
|
| v.怂恿（某人）干不正当的事；冒…的险（tempt的过去分词） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
181
imprinted
|
|
| v.盖印（imprint的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
182
abode
|
|
| n.住处，住所 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
183
concurred
|
|
| 同意（concur的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
184
reluctance
|
|
| n.厌恶，讨厌，勉强，不情愿 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
185
hovering
|
|
| 鸟( hover的现在分词 )； 靠近（某事物）； （人）徘徊； 犹豫 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
186
pointed
|
|
| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
187
reigned
|
|
| vi.当政，统治（reign的过去式形式） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
188
formerly
|
|
| adv.从前，以前 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
189
hermits
|
|
| （尤指早期基督教的）隐居修道士，隐士，遁世者( hermit的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
190
recollected
|
|
| adj.冷静的；镇定的；被回忆起的；沉思默想的v.记起，想起( recollect的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
191
adventurous
|
|
| adj.爱冒险的；惊心动魄的，惊险的，刺激的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
192
disposition
|
|
| n.性情，性格；意向，倾向；排列，部署 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
193
recesses
|
|
| n.壁凹( recess的名词复数 )；（工作或业务活动的）中止或暂停期间；学校的课间休息；某物内部的凹形空间v.把某物放在墙壁的凹处( recess的第三人称单数 )；将（墙）做成凹形，在（墙）上做壁龛；休息，休会，休庭 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
194
penetrated
|
|
| adj. 击穿的，鞭辟入里的 动词penetrate的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
195
enjoins
|
|
| v.命令( enjoin的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
196
apprehension
|
|
| n.理解，领悟；逮捕，拘捕；忧虑 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
197
malice
|
|
| n.恶意，怨恨，蓄意；[律]预谋 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
198
infested
|
|
| adj.为患的，大批滋生的（常与with搭配）v.害虫、野兽大批出没于( infest的过去式和过去分词 )；遍布于 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
199
molest
|
|
| vt.骚扰，干扰，调戏 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
200
impatience
|
|
| n.不耐烦，急躁 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
201
sedately
|
|
| adv.镇静地，安详地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
202
rustling
|
|
| n. 瑟瑟声，沙沙声 adj. 发沙沙声的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
203
apprehended
|
|
| 逮捕，拘押( apprehend的过去式和过去分词 )； 理解 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
204
dispel
|
|
| vt.驱走，驱散，消除 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
205
peril
|
|
| n.(严重的)危险；危险的事物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
206
conjecture
|
|
| n./v.推测，猜测 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
207
besought
|
|
| v.恳求，乞求（某事物）( beseech的过去式和过去分词 )；(beseech的过去式与过去分词) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
208
tranquillity
|
|
| n. 平静, 安静 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
209
perplexed
|
|
| adj.不知所措的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
210
aspiring
|
|
| adj.有志气的；有抱负的；高耸的v.渴望；追求 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
211
proceeding
|
|
| n.行动，进行，(pl.)会议录，学报 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
212
distinguished
|
|
| adj.卓越的，杰出的，著名的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
213
forth
|
|
| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
214
discoursing
|
|
| 演说（discourse的现在分词形式） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
215
haughtily
|
|
| adv. 傲慢地, 高傲地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
216
repent
|
|
| v.悔悟，悔改，忏悔，后悔 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
217
odious
|
|
| adj.可憎的，讨厌的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
218
galloped
|
|
| （使马）飞奔，奔驰( gallop的过去式和过去分词 )； 快速做[说]某事 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
219
privy
|
|
| adj.私用的；隐密的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
220
absconding
|
|
| v.（尤指逃避逮捕）潜逃，逃跑( abscond的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
221
provocation
|
|
| n.激怒，刺激，挑拨，挑衅的事物，激怒的原因 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
222
smothered
|
|
| （使）窒息， （使）透不过气( smother的过去式和过去分词 )； 覆盖； 忍住； 抑制 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
223
wrath
|
|
| n.愤怒，愤慨，暴怒 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
224
incentives
|
|
| 激励某人做某事的事物( incentive的名词复数 )； 刺激； 诱因； 动机 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
225
hardy
|
|
| adj.勇敢的，果断的，吃苦的；耐寒的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
226
disarmed
|
|
| v.裁军( disarm的过去式和过去分词 )；使息怒 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
227
onset
|
|
| n.进攻，袭击，开始，突然开始 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
228
dispersed
|
|
| adj. 被驱散的, 被分散的, 散布的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
229
hatred
|
|
| n.憎恶，憎恨，仇恨 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
230
generosity
|
|
| n.大度，慷慨，慷慨的行为 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
231
adversary
|
|
| adj.敌手，对手 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
232
disarming
|
|
| adj.消除敌意的，使人消气的v.裁军( disarm的现在分词 )；使息怒 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
233
stanch
|
|
| v.止住（血等）；adj.坚固的；坚定的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
234
faltering
|
|
| 犹豫的，支吾的，蹒跚的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
235
foe
|
|
| n.敌人，仇敌 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
236
beholding
|
|
| v.看，注视( behold的现在分词 )；瞧；看呀；（叙述中用于引出某人意外的出现）哎哟 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
237
thither
|
|
| adv.向那里；adj.在那边的，对岸的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
238
forsake
|
|
| vt.遗弃，抛弃；舍弃，放弃 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
239
vowing
|
|
| 起誓，发誓（vow的现在分词形式） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
240
binding
|
|
| 有约束力的，有效的，应遵守的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
241
afflicted
|
|
| 使受痛苦，折磨( afflict的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |