The hearth1 in hall was black and dead,
No board was dight in bower2 within,
Nor merry bowl nor welcome bed;
“Here’s sorry cheer,” quoth the Heir of Linne.
THE feelings of the prodigal4 Heir of Linne, as expressed in that excellent old song, when, after dissipating his whole fortune, he found himself the deserted5 inhabitant of “the lonely lodge,” might perhaps have some resemblance to those of the Master of Ravenswood in his deserted mansion8 of Wolf’s Crag. The Master, however, had this advantage over the spendthrift in the legend, that, if he was in similar distress9, he could not impute10 it to his own imprudence. His misery11 had been bequeathed to him by his father, and, joined to his high blood, and to a title which the courteous12 might give or the churlish withhold13 at their pleasure, it was the whole inheritance he had derived14 from his ancestry15. Perhaps this melancholy16 yet consolatory17 reflection crossed the mind of the unfortunate young nobleman with a breathing of comfort. Favourable18 to calm reflection, as well as to the Muses19, the morning, while it dispelled20 the shades of night, had a composing and sedative21 effect upon the stormy passions by which the Master of Ravenswood had been agitated22 on the preceding day. He now felt himself able to analyse the different feelings by which he was agitated, and much resolved to combat and to subdue23 them. The morning, which had arisen calm and bright, gave a pleasant effect even to the waste moorland view which was seen from the castle on looking to the landward; and the glorious ocean, crisped with a thousand rippling25 waves of silver, extended on the other side, in awful yet complacent26 majesty27, to the verge28 of the horizon. With such scenes of calm sublimity29 the human heart sympathises even in its most disturbed moods, and deeds of honour and virtue30 are inspired by their majestic31 influence. To seek out Bucklaw in the retreat which he had afforded him, was the first occupation of the Master, after he had performed, with a scrutiny32 unusually severe, the important task of self-examination. “How now, Bucklaw?” was his morning’s salutation —“how like you the couch in which the exiled Earl of Angus once slept in security, when he was pursued by the full energy of a king’s resentment33?”
“Umph!” returned the sleeper34 awakened35; “I have little to complain of where so great a man was quartered before me, only the mattress37 was of the hardest, the vault38 somewhat damp, the rats rather more mutinous39 than I would have expected from the state of Caleb’s larder40; and if there had been shutters41 to that grated window, or a curtain to the bed, I should think it, upon the whole, an improvement in your accommodations.”
“It is, to be sure, forlorn enough,” said the Master, looking around the small vault; “but if you will rise and leave it, Caleb will endeavour to find you a better breakfast than your supper of last night.”
“Pray, let it be no better,” said Bucklaw, getting up, and endeavouring to dress himself as well as the obscurity of the place would permit —“let it, I say, be no better, if you mean me to preserve in my proposed reformation. The very recollection of Caleb’s beverage43 has done more to suppress my longing44 to open the day with a morning draught45 than twenty sermons would have done. And you, master, have you been able to give battle valiantly46 to your bosom47-snake? You see I am in the way of smothering48 my vipers49 one by one.”
“I have commenced the battle, at least, Bucklaw, adn I have had a fair vision of an angel who descended50 to my assistance,” replied the Master.
“Woe51’s me!” said his guest, “no vision can I expect, unless my aunt, Lady Grinington, should betake herself to the tomb; and then it would be the substance of her heritage rather than the appearance of her phantom52 that I should consider as the support of my good resolutions. But this same breakfast, Master — does the deer that is to make the pasty run yet on foot, as the ballad has it?”
“I will inquire into that matter,” said his entertainer; and, leaving the apartment, he went in search of Caleb, whom, after some difficulty, he found in an obscure sort of dungeon53, which had been in former times the buttery of the castle. Here the old man was employed busily in the doubtful task of burnishing54 a pewter flagon until it should take the hue55 and semblance7 of silver-plate. “I think it may do — I think it might pass, if they winna bring it ower muckle in the light o’ the window!” were the ejaculations which he muttered from time to time, as if to encourage himself in his undertaking56, when he was interrupted by the voice of his master.
“Take this,” said the Master of Ravenswood, “and get what is necessary for the family.” And with these words he gave to the old butler the purse which had on the preceding evening so narrowly escaped the fangs57 of Craigengelt.
The old man shook his silvery and thin locks, and looked with an expression of the most heartfelt anguish58 at his master as he weighed in his hand the slender treasure, and said in a sorrowful voice, “And is this a’ that’s left?”
“All that is left at present,” said the Master, affecting more cheerfulness than perhaps he really felt, “is just the green purse and the wee pickle59 gowd, as the old song says; but we shall do better one day, Caleb.”
“Before that day domes,” said Caleb, “I doubt there will be an end of an auld60 sang, and an auld serving-man to boot. But it disna become me to speak that gate to your honour, adn you looking sae pale. Tak back the purse, and keep it to be making a show before company; for if your honour would just take a bidding, adn be whiles taking it out afore folk and putting it up again, there’s naebody would refuse us trust, for a’ that’s come and gane yet.”
“But, Caleb,” said the Master, “I still intend to leave this country very soon, and desire to do so with the reputation of an honest man, leaving no debty behind me, at last of my own contracting.”
“And gude right ye suld gang away as a true man, and so ye shall; for auld Caleb can tak the wyte of whatever is taen on for the house, and then it will be a’ just ae man’s burden; and I will live just as weel in the tolbooth as out of it, and the credit of the family will be a’ safe and sound.”
The Master endeavoured, in vain, to make Caleb comprehend that the butler’s incurring61 the responsibility of debts in his own person would rather add to than remove the objections which he had to their being contracted. He spoke62 to a premier63 too busy in devising ways and means to puzzle himself with refuting the arguments offered against their justice or expediency64.
“There’s Eppie Sma’trash will trust us for ale,” said Caleb to himself —“she has lived a’ her life under the family — and maybe wi’ a soup brandy; I canna say for wine — she is but a lone6 woman, and gets her claret by a runlet at a time; but I’ll work a wee drap out o’ her by fair means or foul65. For doos, there’s the doocot; there will be poultry66 amang the tenants67, though Luckie Chirnside says she has paid the kain twice ower. We’ll mak shift, an it like your honour — we’ll mak shift; keep your heart abune, for the house sall haud its credit as lang as auld Caleb is to the fore36.”
The entertainment which the old man’s exertions68 of various kinds enabled him to present to the young gentlemen for three or four days was certainly of no splendid description, but it may readily be believed it was set before no critical guests; and even the distresses69, excuses, evasions70, and shifts of Caleb afforded amusement to the young men, and added a sort fo interest to the scrambling71 and irregular style of their table. They had indeed occasion to seize on every circumstance that might serve to diversify72 or enliven time, which otherwise passed away so heavily.
Bucklaw, shut out from his usual field-sports and joyous73 carouses74 by the necessity of remaining concealed75 within the walls of the castle, became a joyless and uninteresting companion. When the Master of Ravenswood would no longer fence or play at shovel-board; when he himself had polished to the extremity76 the coat of his palfrey with brush, curry77 comb, and hair-cloth; when he had seen him eat his provender78, and gently lie down in his stall, he could hardly help envying the animal’s apparent acquiescence79 in a life so monotonous80. “The stupid brute,” he said, “thinks neither of the race-ground or the hunting-field, or his green paddock at Bucklaw, but enjoys himself as comfortably when haltered to the rack in this ruinous vault, as if he had been foaled in it; and, I who have the freedom of a prisoner at large, to range through the dungeons81 of this wretched old tower, can hardly, betwixt whistling and sleeping, contrive82 to pass away the hour till dinner-time.”
And with this disconsolate83 reflection, he wended his way to the bartizan or battlements of the tower, to watch what objects might appear on the distant moor24, or to pelt84, with pebbles85 and pieces of lime, the sea-mews and cormorants86 which established themselves incautiously within the reach of an idle young man.
Ravenswood, with a mind incalculably deeper and more powerful than that of his companion, had his own anxious subjects of reflection, which wrought87 for him the same unhappiness that sheer enui and want of occupation inflicted88 on his companion. The first sight of Lucy Ashton had been less impressive than her image proved to be upon reflection. As the depth and violence of that revengeful passion by which he had been actuated in seeking an interview with the father began to abate89 by degrees, he looked back on his conduct towards the daughter as harsh and unworthy towards a female of rank and beauty. Her looks of grateful acknowledgment, her words of affectionate courtesy, had been repelled91 with something which approached to disdain92; and if the Master of Ravenswood had sustained wrongs at the hand of Sir William Ashton, his conscience told him they had been unhandsomely resented towards his daughter. When his thoughts took this turn of self-reproach, the recollection of Lucy Ashton’s beautiful features, rendered yet more interesting by the circumstances in which their meeting had taken place, made an impression upon his mind at once soothing93 and painful. The sweetness of her voice, the delicacy94 of her expressions, the vivid glow of her filial affection, embittered95 his regret at having repulsed96 her gratitude97 with rudeness, while, at the same time, they placed before his imagination a picture of the most seducing98 sweetness.
Even young Ravenswood’s strength of moral feeling and rectitude of purpose at once increased the danger of cherishing these recollections, and the propensity99 to entertain them. Firmly resolved as he was to subdue, if possible, the predominating vice100 in his character, he admitted with willingness — nay101, he summoned up in his imagination — the ideas by which it could be most powerfully counteracted102; and, while he did so, a sense of his own harsh conduct towards the daughter of his enemy naturally induced him, as if by way of recompense, to invest her with more of grace and beauty than perhaps she could actually claim.
Had any one at this period told the Master of Ravenswood that he had so lately vowed103 vengeance104 against the whole lineage of him whom he considered, not unjustly, as author of his father’s ruin and death, he might at first have repelled the charge as a foul calumny105; yet, upon serious self-examination, he would have been compelled to admit that it had, at one period, some foundation in truth, though, according to the present tone of his sentiments, it was difficult to believe that this had really been the case.
There already existed in his bosom two contradictory106 passions — a desire to revenge the death of his father, strangely qualified107 by admiration108 of his enemy’s daughter. Against the former feeling he had struggled, until it seemed to him upon the wane109; against the latter he used no means of resistance, for he did not suspect its existence. That this was actually the case was chiefly evinced by his resuming his resolution to leave Scotland. Yet, though such was his purpose, he remained day after day at Wolf’s Crag, without taking measures for carrying it into execution. It is true, that he had written to one or two kinsmen110 who resided in a distant quarter of Scotland, and particularly to the Marquis of A——, intimating his purpose; and when pressed upon the subject by Bucklaw, he was wont111 to allege112 the necessity of waiting for their reply, especially that of the Marquis, before taking so decisive a measure.
The Marquis was rich and powerful; and although he was suspected to entertain sentiments unfavourable to the government established at the Revolution, he had nevertheless address enough to head a party in the Scottish privy113 council, connected with the High Church faction114 in England, and powerful enough to menace those to whom the Lord Keeper adhered with a probable subversion115 of their power. The consulting with a personage of such importance was a plausible116 excise117, which Ravenswood used to Bucklaw, and probably to himself, for continuing his residence at Wolf’s Crag; and it was rendered yet more so by a general report which began to be current of a probable change of ministers and measures in the Scottish administration. The rumours118, strongly asserted by some, and as resolutely119 denied by others, as their wishes or interest dictated120, found their way even to the ruinous Tower of Wolf’s Crag, chiefly through the medium of Caleb, the butler, who, among his other excellences121, was an ardent122 politician, and seldom made an excursion from the old fortress123 to the neighbouring village of Wolf’s Hope without bringing back what tidings were current in the vicinity.
But if Bucklaw could not offer any satisfactory objections to the delay of the Master in leaving Scotland, he did not the less suffer with impatience124 the state of inaction to which it confined him; and it was only the ascendency which his new companion had acquired over him that induced him to submit to a course of life so alien to his habits and inclinations125.
“You were wont to be thought a stirring active young fellow, Master,” was his frequent remonstrance126; “yet here you seem determined127 to live on and on like a rat in a hole, with this trifling128 difference, that the wiser vermin chooses a hermitage where he can find food at least; but as for us, Caleb’s excuses become longer as his diet turns more spare, and I fear we shall realise the stories they tell of the slother: we have almost eat up the last green leaf on the plant, and have nothing left for it but to drop from the tree and break our necks.”
“Do not fear it,” said Ravenswood; “there is a fate watches for us, and we too have a stake in the revolution that is now impending129, and which already has alarmed many a bosom.”
“What fate — what revolution?” inquired his companion. “We have had one revolution too much already, I think.”
Ravenswood interrupted him by putting into his hands a letter.
“Oh,” answered Bucklaw, “my dream’s out. I thought I heard Caleb this morning pressing some unfortunate fellow to a drink of cold water, and assuring him it was better for his stomach in the morning than ale or brandy.”
“It was my Lord of A——‘s courier,” said Ravenswood, “who was doomed130 to experience his ostentatious hospitality, which I believe ended in sour beer and herrings. Read, and you will see the news he has brought us.” “I will as fast as I can,” said Bucklaw; “but I am no great clerk, nor does his lordship seem to be the first of scribes.”
The reader will peruse131 in, a few seconds, by the aid our friend Ballantyne’s types, what took Bucklaw a good half hour in perusal132, though assisted by the Master of Ravenswood. The tenor133 was as follows:
“RIGHT HONOURABLE134 OUR COUSIN:
“Our hearty135 commendations premised, these come to assure you of the interest which we take in your welfare, and in your purpose towards its augmentation. If we have been less active in showing forth136 our effective good-will towards you than, as a loving kinsman137 and blood-relative, we would willingly have desired, we request that you will impute it to lack fo opportunity to show our good-liking, not to any coldness of our will. Touching138 your resolution to travel in foreign parts, as at this time we hold the same little advisable, in respect that your ill-willers may, according to the custom of such persons, impute motives139 for your journey, whereof, although we know and believe you to be as clear as ourselves, yet natheless their words may find credence140 in places where the belief in them may much prejudice you, and which we should see with more unwillingness141 and displeasure than with means of remedy.
“Having thus, as becometh our kindred, given you our poor mind on the subject of your journeying forth of Scotland, we would willingly add reasons of weight, which might materially advantage you and your father’s house, thereby142 to determine you to abide143 at Wolf’s Crag, until this harvest season shall be passed over. But what sayeth the proverb, verbum sapienti — a word is more to him that hath wisdom than a sermon to a fool. And albeit144 we have written this poor scroll145 with our own hand, and are well assured of the fidelity146 of our messenger, as him that is many ways bounden to us, yet so it is, that sliddery ways crave147 wary148 walking, and that we may not peril149 upon paper matters which we would gladly impart to you by word of mouth. Wherefore, it was our purpose to have prayed you heartily150 to come to this our barren Highland151 country to kill a stag, and to treat of the matters which we are now more painfully inditing152 to you anent. But commodity does not serve at present for such our meeting, which, therefore, shall be deferred153 until sic time as we may in all mirth rehearse those things whereof we now keep silence. Meantime, we pray you to think that we are, and will still be, your good kinsman and well-wisher, waiting but for times of whilk we do, as it were, entertain a twilight154 prospect155, and appear and hope to be also your effectual well-doer. And in which hope we heartily write ourself,
“Right Honourable,
“Your loving cousin,
“A——. “Given from our poor house of B——,” etc.
Superscribed —“For the right honourable, and our honoured kinsman, the Master of Ravenswood — These, with haste, haste, post haste — ride and run until these be delivered.”
“What think you of this epistle, Bucklaw?” said the Master, when his companion had hammered out all the sense, and almost all the words of which it consisted.
“Truly, that the Marquis’s meaning is as great a riddle156 as his manuscript. He is really in much need of Wit’s Interpreter , or the Complete Letter-Writer , and were I you, I would send him a copy by the bearer. He writes you very kindly157 to remain wasting your time and your money in this vile158, stupid, oppressed country, without so much as offering you the countenance159 and shelter of his house. In my opinion, he has some scheme in view in which he supposes you can be useful, and he wishes to keep you at hand, to make use of you when it ripens160, reserving the power of turning you adrift, should his plot fail in the concoction161.”
“His plot! Then you suppose it is a treasonable business,” answered Ravenswood.
“What else can it be?” replied Bucklaw; “the Marquis has been long suspected to have an eye to Saint Germains.”
“He should not engage me rashly in such an adventure,” said Ravenswood; “when I recollect42 the times of the first and second Charles, and of the last James, truly I see little reason that, as a man or a patriot162, I should draw my sword for their descendants.”
“Humph!” replied Bucklaw; “so you have set yourself down to mourn over the crop-eared dogs whom honest Claver’se treated as they deserved?”
“They first gave the dogs an ill name, and then hanged them,” replied Ravenswood. “I hope to see the day when justice shall be open to Whig and Tory, and when these nicknames shall only be used among coffee-house politicians, as ‘slut’ and ‘jade’ are among apple-women, as cant163 terms of idle spite and rancour.”
“That will nto be in our days, Master: the iron has entered too deeply into our sides and our souls.”
“It will be, however, one day,” replied the Master; “men will not always start at these nicknames as at a trumpet-sound. As social life is better protected, its comforts will become too dear to be hazarded without some better reasons than speculative164 politics.”
“It is fine talking,” answered Bucklaw; “but my heart is with the old song —
To see good corn upon the rigs,
And a gallow built to hang the Whigs,
And the right restored where the right should be.
Oh, that is the thing that would wanton me.”
“You may sing as loudly as you will, cantabit vacuus ——,” answered the Master; “but I believe the Marquis is too wise, at least too wary, to join you in such a burden. I suspect he alludes165 to a revolution in the Scottish privy council, rather than in the British kingdoms.”
“Oh, confusion to your state tricks!” exclaimed Bucklaw —“your cold calculating manoeuvres, which old gentlemen in wrought nightcaps and furred gowns execute like so many games at chess, and displace a treasurer166 or lord commissioner167 as they would take a rook or a pawn168. Tennis for my sport, and battle for my earnest! And you, Master, so dep and considerate as you would seem, you have that within you makes the blood boil faster than suits your present humour of moralising on political truths. You are one of those wise men who see everything with great composure till their blood is up, and then — woe to any one who should put them in mind of their own prudential maxims169!” “Perhaps,” said Ravenswood, “you read me more rightly than I can myself. But to think justly will certainly go some length in helping170 me to act so. But hark! I hear Caleb tolling171 the dinner-bell.”
“Which he always does with the more sonorous172 grace in proportion to the meagreness of the cheer which he has provided,” said Bucklaw; “as if that infernal clang and jangle, which will one day bring the belfry down the cliff, could convert a starved hen into a fat capon, and a blade-bone of mutton into a haunch of venison.”
“I wish we may be so well off as your worst conjectures173 surmise174, Bucklaw, from the extreme solemnity and ceremony with which Caleb seems to place on the table that solitary175 covered dish.”
“Uncover, Caleb! uncover, for Heaven’s sake!” said Bucklaw; “let us have what you can give us without preface. Why, it stands well enough, man,” he continued, addressing impatiently the ancient butler, who, without reply, kept shifting the dish, until he had at length placed it with mathematical precision in the very midst of the table.
“What have we got here, Caleb?” inquired the Master in his turn.
“Ahem! sir, ye suld have known before; but his honour the Laird of Bucklaw is so impatient,” answered Caleb, still holding the dish with one hand and the cover with the other, with evident reluctance176 to disclose the contents.
“But what is it, a God’s name — not a pair of clean spurs, I hope, in the Border fashion of old times?”
“Ahem! ahem!” reiterated177 Caleb, “your honour is pleased to be facetious178; natheless, I might presume to say it was a convenient fashion, and used, as I have heard, in an honourable and thriving family. But touching your present dinner, I judged that this being St. Magdalen’s [Margaret’s] Eve, who was a worthy90 queen of Scotland in her day, your honours might judge it decorous, if not altogether to fast, yet only to sustain nature with some slight refection, as ane saulted herring or the like.” And, uncovering the dish, he displayed four of the savoury fishes which he mentioned, adding, in a subdued179 tone, “that they were no just common herring neither, being every ane melters, and sauted with uncommon180 care by the housekeeper181 (poor Mysie) for his honour’s especial use.”
“Out upon all apologies!” said the Master, “let us eat the herrings, since there is nothing better to be had; but I begin to think with you, Bucklaw, that we are consuming the last green leaf, and that, in spite of the Marquis’s political machinations, we must positively182 shift camp for want of forage183, without waiting the issue of them.”
1 hearth | |
n.壁炉炉床,壁炉地面 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
2 bower | |
n.凉亭,树荫下凉快之处;闺房;v.荫蔽 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
3 ballad | |
n.歌谣,民谣,流行爱情歌曲 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
4 prodigal | |
adj.浪费的,挥霍的,放荡的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
5 deserted | |
adj.荒芜的,荒废的,无人的,被遗弃的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
6 lone | |
adj.孤寂的,单独的;唯一的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
7 semblance | |
n.外貌,外表 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
8 mansion | |
n.大厦,大楼;宅第 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
9 distress | |
n.苦恼,痛苦,不舒适;不幸;vt.使悲痛 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
10 impute | |
v.归咎于 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
11 misery | |
n.痛苦,苦恼,苦难;悲惨的境遇,贫苦 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
12 courteous | |
adj.彬彬有礼的,客气的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
13 withhold | |
v.拒绝,不给;使停止,阻挡 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
14 derived | |
vi.起源;由来;衍生;导出v.得到( derive的过去式和过去分词 );(从…中)得到获得;源于;(从…中)提取 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
15 ancestry | |
n.祖先,家世 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
16 melancholy | |
n.忧郁,愁思;adj.令人感伤(沮丧)的,忧郁的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
17 consolatory | |
adj.慰问的,可藉慰的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
18 favourable | |
adj.赞成的,称赞的,有利的,良好的,顺利的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
19 muses | |
v.沉思,冥想( muse的第三人称单数 );沉思自语说(某事) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
20 dispelled | |
v.驱散,赶跑( dispel的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
21 sedative | |
adj.使安静的,使镇静的;n. 镇静剂,能使安静的东西 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
22 agitated | |
adj.被鼓动的,不安的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
23 subdue | |
vt.制服,使顺从,征服;抑制,克制 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
24 moor | |
n.荒野,沼泽;vt.(使)停泊;vi.停泊 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
25 rippling | |
起涟漪的,潺潺流水般声音的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
26 complacent | |
adj.自满的;自鸣得意的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
27 majesty | |
n.雄伟,壮丽,庄严,威严;最高权威,王权 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
28 verge | |
n.边,边缘;v.接近,濒临 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
29 sublimity | |
崇高,庄严,气质高尚 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
30 virtue | |
n.德行,美德;贞操;优点;功效,效力 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
31 majestic | |
adj.雄伟的,壮丽的,庄严的,威严的,崇高的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
32 scrutiny | |
n.详细检查,仔细观察 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
33 resentment | |
n.怨愤,忿恨 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
34 sleeper | |
n.睡眠者,卧车,卧铺 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
35 awakened | |
v.(使)醒( awaken的过去式和过去分词 );(使)觉醒;弄醒;(使)意识到 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
36 fore | |
adv.在前面;adj.先前的;在前部的;n.前部 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
37 mattress | |
n.床垫,床褥 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
38 vault | |
n.拱形圆顶,地窖,地下室 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
39 mutinous | |
adj.叛变的,反抗的;adv.反抗地,叛变地;n.反抗,叛变 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
40 larder | |
n.食物贮藏室,食品橱 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
41 shutters | |
百叶窗( shutter的名词复数 ); (照相机的)快门 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
42 recollect | |
v.回忆,想起,记起,忆起,记得 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
43 beverage | |
n.(水,酒等之外的)饮料 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
44 longing | |
n.(for)渴望 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
45 draught | |
n.拉,牵引,拖;一网(饮,吸,阵);顿服药量,通风;v.起草,设计 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
46 valiantly | |
adv.勇敢地,英勇地;雄赳赳 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
47 bosom | |
n.胸,胸部;胸怀;内心;adj.亲密的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
48 smothering | |
(使)窒息, (使)透不过气( smother的现在分词 ); 覆盖; 忍住; 抑制 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
49 vipers | |
n.蝰蛇( viper的名词复数 );毒蛇;阴险恶毒的人;奸诈者 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
50 descended | |
a.为...后裔的,出身于...的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
51 woe | |
n.悲哀,苦痛,不幸,困难;int.用来表达悲伤或惊慌 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
52 phantom | |
n.幻影,虚位,幽灵;adj.错觉的,幻影的,幽灵的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
53 dungeon | |
n.地牢,土牢 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
54 burnishing | |
n.磨光,抛光,擦亮v.擦亮(金属等),磨光( burnish的现在分词 );被擦亮,磨光 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
55 hue | |
n.色度;色调;样子 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
56 undertaking | |
n.保证,许诺,事业 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
57 fangs | |
n.(尤指狗和狼的)长而尖的牙( fang的名词复数 );(蛇的)毒牙;罐座 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
58 anguish | |
n.(尤指心灵上的)极度痛苦,烦恼 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
59 pickle | |
n.腌汁,泡菜;v.腌,泡 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
60 auld | |
adj.老的,旧的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
61 incurring | |
遭受,招致,引起( incur的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
62 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: |
|
|
63 premier | |
adj.首要的;n.总理,首相 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
64 expediency | |
n.适宜;方便;合算;利己 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
65 foul | |
adj.污秽的;邪恶的;v.弄脏;妨害;犯规;n.犯规 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
66 poultry | |
n.家禽,禽肉 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
67 tenants | |
n.房客( tenant的名词复数 );佃户;占用者;占有者 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
68 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: |
|
|
69 distresses | |
n.悲痛( distress的名词复数 );痛苦;贫困;危险 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
70 evasions | |
逃避( evasion的名词复数 ); 回避; 遁辞; 借口 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
71 scrambling | |
v.快速爬行( scramble的现在分词 );攀登;争夺;(军事飞机)紧急起飞 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
72 diversify | |
v.(使)不同,(使)变得多样化 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
73 joyous | |
adj.充满快乐的;令人高兴的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
74 carouses | |
v.痛饮,闹饮欢宴( carouse的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
75 concealed | |
a.隐藏的,隐蔽的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
76 extremity | |
n.末端,尽头;尽力;终极;极度 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
77 curry | |
n.咖哩粉,咖哩饭菜;v.用咖哩粉调味,用马栉梳,制革 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
78 provender | |
n.刍草;秣料 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
79 acquiescence | |
n.默许;顺从 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
80 monotonous | |
adj.单调的,一成不变的,使人厌倦的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
81 dungeons | |
n.地牢( dungeon的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
82 contrive | |
vt.谋划,策划;设法做到;设计,想出 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
83 disconsolate | |
adj.忧郁的,不快的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
84 pelt | |
v.投掷,剥皮,抨击,开火 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
85 pebbles | |
[复数]鹅卵石; 沙砾; 卵石,小圆石( pebble的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
86 cormorants | |
鸬鹚,贪婪的人( cormorant的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
87 wrought | |
v.引起;以…原料制作;运转;adj.制造的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
88 inflicted | |
把…强加给,使承受,遭受( inflict的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
89 abate | |
vi.(风势,疼痛等)减弱,减轻,减退 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
90 worthy | |
adj.(of)值得的,配得上的;有价值的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
91 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: |
|
|
92 disdain | |
n.鄙视,轻视;v.轻视,鄙视,不屑 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
93 soothing | |
adj.慰藉的;使人宽心的;镇静的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
94 delicacy | |
n.精致,细微,微妙,精良;美味,佳肴 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
95 embittered | |
v.使怨恨,激怒( embitter的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
96 repulsed | |
v.击退( repulse的过去式和过去分词 );驳斥;拒绝 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
97 gratitude | |
adj.感激,感谢 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
98 seducing | |
诱奸( seduce的现在分词 ); 勾引; 诱使堕落; 使入迷 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
99 propensity | |
n.倾向;习性 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
100 vice | |
n.坏事;恶习;[pl.]台钳,老虎钳;adj.副的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
101 nay | |
adv.不;n.反对票,投反对票者 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
102 counteracted | |
对抗,抵消( counteract的过去式 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
103 vowed | |
起誓,发誓(vow的过去式与过去分词形式) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
104 vengeance | |
n.报复,报仇,复仇 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
105 calumny | |
n.诽谤,污蔑,中伤 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
106 contradictory | |
adj.反驳的,反对的,抗辩的;n.正反对,矛盾对立 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
107 qualified | |
adj.合格的,有资格的,胜任的,有限制的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
108 admiration | |
n.钦佩,赞美,羡慕 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
109 wane | |
n.衰微,亏缺,变弱;v.变小,亏缺,呈下弦 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
110 kinsmen | |
n.家属,亲属( kinsman的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
111 wont | |
adj.习惯于;v.习惯;n.习惯 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
112 allege | |
vt.宣称,申述,主张,断言 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
113 privy | |
adj.私用的;隐密的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
114 faction | |
n.宗派,小集团;派别;派系斗争 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
115 subversion | |
n.颠覆,破坏 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
116 plausible | |
adj.似真实的,似乎有理的,似乎可信的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
117 excise | |
n.(国产)货物税;vt.切除,删去 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
118 rumours | |
n.传闻( rumour的名词复数 );风闻;谣言;谣传 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
119 resolutely | |
adj.坚决地,果断地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
120 dictated | |
v.大声讲或读( dictate的过去式和过去分词 );口授;支配;摆布 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
121 excellences | |
n.卓越( excellence的名词复数 );(只用于所修饰的名词后)杰出的;卓越的;出类拔萃的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
122 ardent | |
adj.热情的,热烈的,强烈的,烈性的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
123 fortress | |
n.堡垒,防御工事 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
124 impatience | |
n.不耐烦,急躁 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
125 inclinations | |
倾向( inclination的名词复数 ); 倾斜; 爱好; 斜坡 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
126 remonstrance | |
n抗议,抱怨 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
127 determined | |
adj.坚定的;有决心的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
128 trifling | |
adj.微不足道的;没什么价值的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
129 impending | |
a.imminent, about to come or happen | |
参考例句: |
|
|
130 doomed | |
命定的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
131 peruse | |
v.细读,精读 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
132 perusal | |
n.细读,熟读;目测 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
133 tenor | |
n.男高音(歌手),次中音(乐器),要旨,大意 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
134 honourable | |
adj.可敬的;荣誉的,光荣的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
135 hearty | |
adj.热情友好的;衷心的;尽情的,纵情的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
136 forth | |
adv.向前;向外,往外 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
137 kinsman | |
n.男亲属 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
138 touching | |
adj.动人的,使人感伤的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
139 motives | |
n.动机,目的( motive的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
140 credence | |
n.信用,祭器台,供桌,凭证 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
141 unwillingness | |
n. 不愿意,不情愿 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
142 thereby | |
adv.因此,从而 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
143 abide | |
vi.遵守;坚持;vt.忍受 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
144 albeit | |
conj.即使;纵使;虽然 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
145 scroll | |
n.卷轴,纸卷;(石刻上的)漩涡 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
146 fidelity | |
n.忠诚,忠实;精确 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
147 crave | |
vt.渴望得到,迫切需要,恳求,请求 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
148 wary | |
adj.谨慎的,机警的,小心的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
149 peril | |
n.(严重的)危险;危险的事物 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
150 heartily | |
adv.衷心地,诚恳地,十分,很 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
151 highland | |
n.(pl.)高地,山地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
152 inditing | |
v.写(文章,信等)创作,赋诗,创作( indite的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
153 deferred | |
adj.延期的,缓召的v.拖延,延缓,推迟( defer的过去式和过去分词 );服从某人的意愿,遵从 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
154 twilight | |
n.暮光,黄昏;暮年,晚期,衰落时期 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
155 prospect | |
n.前景,前途;景色,视野 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
156 riddle | |
n.谜,谜语,粗筛;vt.解谜,给…出谜,筛,检查,鉴定,非难,充满于;vi.出谜 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
157 kindly | |
adj.和蔼的,温和的,爽快的;adv.温和地,亲切地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
158 vile | |
adj.卑鄙的,可耻的,邪恶的;坏透的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
159 countenance | |
n.脸色,面容;面部表情;vt.支持,赞同 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
160 ripens | |
v.成熟,使熟( ripen的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
161 concoction | |
n.调配(物);谎言 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
162 patriot | |
n.爱国者,爱国主义者 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
163 cant | |
n.斜穿,黑话,猛扔 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
164 speculative | |
adj.思索性的,暝想性的,推理的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
165 alludes | |
提及,暗指( allude的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
166 treasurer | |
n.司库,财务主管 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
167 commissioner | |
n.(政府厅、局、处等部门)专员,长官,委员 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
168 pawn | |
n.典当,抵押,小人物,走卒;v.典当,抵押 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
169 maxims | |
n.格言,座右铭( maxim的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
170 helping | |
n.食物的一份&adj.帮助人的,辅助的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
171 tolling | |
[财]来料加工 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
172 sonorous | |
adj.响亮的,回响的;adv.圆润低沉地;感人地;n.感人,堂皇 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
173 conjectures | |
推测,猜想( conjecture的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
174 surmise | |
v./n.猜想,推测 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
175 solitary | |
adj.孤独的,独立的,荒凉的;n.隐士 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
176 reluctance | |
n.厌恶,讨厌,勉强,不情愿 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
177 reiterated | |
反复地说,重申( reiterate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
178 facetious | |
adj.轻浮的,好开玩笑的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
179 subdued | |
adj. 屈服的,柔和的,减弱的 动词subdue的过去式和过去分词 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
180 uncommon | |
adj.罕见的,非凡的,不平常的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
181 housekeeper | |
n.管理家务的主妇,女管家 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
182 positively | |
adv.明确地,断然,坚决地;实在,确实 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
183 forage | |
n.(牛马的)饲料,粮草;v.搜寻,翻寻 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
欢迎访问英文小说网 |