Introduces the Hon. Percy Dacier
The Gods of this world’s contests, against whom our poor stripped individual is commonly in revolt, are, as we know, not miners, they are reapers1; and if we appear no longer on the surface, they cease to bruise2 us: they will allow an arena3 character to be cleansed4 and made presentable while enthusiastic friends preserve discretion5. It is of course less than magnanimity; they are not proposed to you for your worship; they are little Gods, temporary as that great wave, their parent human mass of the hour. But they have one worshipful element in them, which is, the divine insistency6 upon there being two sides to a case—to every case. And the People so far directed by them may boast of healthfulness. Let the individual shriek7, the innocent, triumphant8, have in honesty to admit the fact. One side is vanquished9, according to decree of Law, but the superior Council does not allow it to be extinguished.
Diana’s battle was fought shadowily behind her for the space of a week or so, with some advocates on behalf of the beaten man; then it became a recollection of a beautiful woman, possibly erring10, misvalued by a husband, who was neither a man of the world nor a gracious yokefellow, nor anything to match her. She, however, once out of the public flames, had to recall her scorchings to be gentle with herself. Under a defeat, she would have been angrily self-vindicated. The victory of the ashen12 laurels13 drove her mind inward to gird at the hateful yoke11, in compassion14 for its pair of victims. Quite earnestly by such means, yet always bearing a comical eye on her subterfuges15, she escaped the extremes of personal blame. Those advocates of her opponent in and out of court compelled her honest heart to search within and own to faults. But were they not natural faults? It was her marriage; it was marriage in the abstract: her own mistake and the world’s clumsy machinery16 of civilization: these were the capital offenders17: not the wife who would laugh ringingly, and would have friends of the other sex, and shot her epigrams at the helpless despot, and was at times—yes, vixenish; a nature driven to it, but that was the word. She was too generous to recount her charges against the vanquished. If his wretched jealousy18 had ruined her, the secret high tribunal within her bosom19, which judged her guiltless for putting the sword between their marriage tie when they stood as one, because a quarrelling couple could not in honour play the embracing, pronounced him just pardonable. She distinguished20 that he could only suppose, manlikely, one bad cause for the division.
To this extent she used her unerring brains, more openly than on her night of debate at The Crossways. The next moment she was off in vapour, meditating21 grandly on her independence of her sex and the passions. Love! she did not know it, she was not acquainted with either the criminal or the domestic God, and persuaded herself that she never could be. She was a Diana of coldness, preferring friendship; she could be the friend of men. There was another who could be the friend of women. Her heart leapt to Redworth. Conjuring23 up his clear trusty face, at their grasp of hands when parting, she thought of her visions of her future about the period of the Dublin Ball, and acknowledged, despite the erratic24 step to wedlock25, a gain in having met and proved so true a friend. His face, figure, character, lightest look, lightest word, all were loyal signs of a man of honour, cold as she; he was the man to whom she could have opened her heart for inspection26. Rejoicing in her independence of an emotional sex, the impulsive27 woman burned with a regret that at their parting she had not broken down conventional barriers and given her cheek to his lips in the anti-insular fashion with a brotherly friend. And why not when both were cold? Spirit to spirit, she did, delightfully28 refreshed by her capacity to do so without a throb29. He had held her hands and looked into her eyes half a minute, like a dear comrade; as little arousing her instincts of defensiveness30 as the clearing heavens; and sisterly love for it was his due, a sister’s kiss. He needed a sister, and should have one in her. Emma’s recollected31 talk of ‘Tom Redworth’ painted him from head to foot, brought the living man over the waters to the deck of the yacht. A stout32 champion in the person of Tom Redworth was left on British land; but for some reason past analysis, intermixed, that is, among a swarm33 of sensations, Diana named her champion to herself with the formal prefix34: perhaps because she knew a man’s Christian35 name to be dangerous handling. They differed besides frequently in opinion, when the habit of thinking of him as Mr. Redworth would be best. Women are bound to such small observances, and especially the beautiful of the sisterhood, whom the world soon warns that they carry explosives and must particularly guard against the ignition of petty sparks. She was less indiscreet in her thoughts than in her acts, as is the way with the reflective daughter of impulse; though she had fine mental distinctions: what she could offer to do ‘spirit to spirit,’ for instance, held nothing to her mind of the intimacy37 of calling the gentleman plain Tom in mere38 contemplation of him. Her friend and champion was a volunteer, far from a mercenary, and he deserved the reward, if she could bestow39 it unalarmed. They were to meet in Egypt. Meanwhile England loomed40 the home of hostile forces ready to shock, had she been a visible planet, and ready to secrete41 a virus of her past history, had she been making new.
She was happily away, borne by a whiter than swan’s wing on the sapphire42 Mediterranean43. Her letters to Emma were peeps of splendour for the invalid44: her way of life on board the yacht, and sketches45 of her host and hostess as lovers in wedlock on the other side of our perilous47 forties; sketches of the bays, the towns, the people-priests, dames48, cavaliers, urchins49, infants, shifting groups of supple50 southerners-flashed across the page like a web of silk, and were dashed off, redolent of herself, as lightly as the silvery spray of the blue waves she furrowed51; telling, without allusions52 to the land behind her, that she had dipped in the wells of blissful oblivion. Emma Dunstane, as is usual with those who receive exhilarating correspondence from makers53 of books, condemned54 the authoress in comparison, and now first saw that she had the gift of writing. Only one cry: ‘Italy, Eden of exiles!’ betrayed the seeming of a moan. She wrote of her poet and others immediately. Thither55 had they fled; with adieu to England!
How many have waved the adieu! And it is England nourishing, England protecting them, England clothing them in the honours they wear. Only the posturing56 lower natures, on the level of their buskins, can pluck out the pocket-knife of sentimental57 spite to cut themselves loose from her at heart in earnest. The higher, bleed as they may, too pressingly feel their debt. Diana had the Celtic vivid sense of country. In England she was Irish, by hereditary58, and by wilful59 opposition60. Abroad, gazing along the waters, observing, comparing, reflecting, above all, reading of the struggles at home, the things done and attempted, her soul of generosity61 made her, though not less Irish, a daughter of Britain. It is at a distance that striving countries should be seen if we would have them in the pure idea; and this young woman of fervid62 mind, a reader of public speeches and speculator on the tides of politics (desirous, further, to feel herself rather more in the pure idea), began to yearn63 for England long before her term of holiday exile had ended. She had been flattered by her friend, her ‘wedded martyr64 at the stake,’ as she named him, to believe that she could exercise a judgement in politics—could think, even speak acutely, on public affairs. The reports of speeches delivered by the men she knew or knew of, set her thrilling; and she fancied the sensibility to be as independent of her sympathy with the orators65 as her political notions were sovereignty above a sex devoted66 to trifles, and the feelings of a woman who had gone through fire. She fancied it confidently, notwithstanding a peculiar67 intuition that the plunge68 into the nobler business of the world would be a haven69 of safety for a woman with blood and imagination, when writing to Emma: ‘Mr. Redworth’s great success in Parliament is good in itself, whatever his views of present questions; and I do not heed70 them when I look to what may be done by a man of such power in striking at unjust laws, which keep the really numerically better-half of the population in a state of slavery. If he had been a lawyer! It must be a lawyer’s initiative—a lawyer’s Bill. Mr. Percy Dacier also spoke71 well, as might have been expected, and his uncle’s compliment to him was merited. Should you meet him sound him. He has read for the Bar, and is younger than Mr. Redworth. The very young men and the old are our hope. The middleaged are hard and fast for existing facts. We pick our leaders on the slopes, the incline and decline of the mountain—not on the upper table-land midway, where all appears to men so solid, so tolerably smooth, save for a few excrescences, roughnesses, gradually to be levelled at their leisure; which induces one to protest that the middle-age of men is their time of delusion72. It is no paradox73. They may be publicly useful in a small way. I do not deny it at all. They must be near the gates of life—the opening or the closing—for their minds to be accessible to the urgency of the greater questions. Otherwise the world presents itself to them under too settled an aspect—unless, of course, Vesuvian Revolution shakes the land. And that touches only their nerves. I dream of some old Judge! There is one—if having caught we could keep him. But I dread74 so tricksy a pilot. You have guessed him—the ancient Puck! We have laughed all day over the paper telling us of his worrying the Lords. Lady Esquart congratulates her husband on being out of it. Puck ‘biens ride’ and bewigged might perhaps—except that at the critical moment he would be sure to plead allegiance to Oberon. However, the work will be performed by some one: I am prophetic:—when maidens75 are grandmothers!—when your Tony is wearing a perpetual laugh in the unhusbanded regions where there is no institution of the wedding-tie.’
For the reason that she was not to participate in the result of the old Judge’s or young hero’s happy championship of the cause of her sex, she conceived her separateness high aloof76, and actually supposed she was a contemplative, simply speculative77 political spirit, impersonal78 albeit79 a woman. This, as Emma, smiling at the lines, had not to learn, was always her secret pride of fancy—the belief in her possession of a disengaged intellect.
The strange illusion, so clearly exposed to her correspondent, was maintained through a series of letters very slightly descriptive, dated from the Piraeus, the Bosphorus, the coasts of the Crimea, all more or less relating to the latest news of the journals received on board the yacht, and of English visitors fresh from the country she now seemed fond of calling ‘home.’ Politics, and gentle allusions to the curious exhibition of ‘love in marriage’ shown by her amiable80 host and hostess: ‘these dear Esquarts, who are never tired of one another, but courtly courting, tempting81 me to think it possible that a fortunate selection and a mutual82 deference83 may subscribe84 to human happiness:—filled the paragraphs. Reviews of her first literary venture were mentioned once: ‘I was well advised by Mr. Redworth in putting ANTONIA for authoress. She is a buff jerkin to the stripes, and I suspect that the signature of D. E. M., written in full, would have cawed woefully to hear that her style is affected85, her characters nullities, her cleverness forced, etc., etc. As it is, I have much the same contempt for poor Antonia’s performance. Cease penning, little fool! She writes, “with some comprehension of the passion of love.” I know her to be a stranger to the earliest cry. So you see, dear, that utter ignorance is the mother of the Art. Dialogues “occasionally pointed86.” She has a sister who may do better.—But why was I not apprenticed87 to a serviceable profession or a trade? I perceive now that a hanger-on of the market had no right to expect a happier fate than mine has been.’
On the Nile, in the winter of the year, Diana met the Hon. Percy Dacier. He was introduced to her at Cairo by Redworth. The two gentlemen had struck up a House of Commons acquaintanceship, and finding themselves bound for the same destination, had grown friendly. Redworth’s arrival had been pleasantly expected. She remarked on Dacier’s presence to Emma, without sketch46 or note of him as other than much esteemed88 by Lord and Lady Esquart. These, with Diana, Redworth, Dacier, the German Eastern traveller Schweizerbarth, and the French Consul89 and Egyptologist Duriette, composed a voyaging party up the river, of which expedition Redworth was Lady Dunstane’s chief writer of the records. His novel perceptiveness90 and shrewdness of touch made them amusing; and his tenderness to the Beauty’s coquettry between the two foreign rivals, moved a deeper feeling. The German had a guitar, the Frenchman a voice; Diana joined them in harmony. They complained apart severally of the accompaniment and the singer. Our English criticized them apart; and that is at any rate to occupy a post, though it contributes nothing to entertainment. At home the Esquarts had sung duets; Diana had assisted Redworth’s manly91 chest-notes at the piano. Each of them declined to be vocal92. Diana sang alone for the credit of the country, Italian and French songs, Irish also. She was in her mood of Planxty Kelly and Garryowen all the way. ‘Madame est Irlandaise?’ Redworth heard the Frenchman say, and he owned to what was implied in the answering tone of the question. ‘We should be dull dogs without the Irish leaven93!’ So Tony in exile still managed to do something for her darling Erin. The solitary94 woman on her heights at Copsley raised an exclamation95 of, ‘Oh! that those two had been or could be united!’ She was conscious of a mystic symbolism in the prayer.
She was not apprehensive96 of any ominous97 intervention98 of another. Writing from Venice, Diana mentioned Mr. Percy Dacier as being engaged to an heiress; ‘A Miss Asper, niece of a mighty99 shipowner, Mr. Quintin Manx, Lady Esquart tells me: money fabulous100, and necessary to a younger son devoured101 with ambition. The elder brother, Lord Creedmore, is a common Nimrod, always absent in Hungary, Russia, America, hunting somewhere. Mr. Dacier will be in the Cabinet with the next Ministry102.’ No more of him. A new work by ANTONIA was progressing.
The Summer in South Tyrol passed like a royal procession before young eyes for Diana, and at the close of it, descending103 the Stelvio, idling through the Valtelline, Como Lake was reached, Diana full of her work, living the double life of the author. At Bellagio one afternoon Mr. Percy Dacier appeared. She remembered subsequently a disappointment she felt in not beholding104 Mr. Redworth either with him or displacing him. If engaged to a lady, he was not an ardent105 suitor; nor was he a pointedly106 complimentary107 acquaintance. His enthusiasm was reserved for Italian scenery. She had already formed a sort of estimate of his character, as an indifferent observer may do, and any woman previous to the inflaming108 of her imagination, if that is in store for her; and she now fell to work resetting109 the puzzle it became as soon her positive conclusions had to be shaped again. ‘But women never can know young men,’ she wrote to Emma, after praising his good repute as one of the brotherhood110. ‘He drops pretty sentences now and then: no compliments; milky111 nuts. Of course he has a head, or he would not be where he is—and that seems always to me the most enviable place a young man can occupy.’ She observed in him a singular conflicting of a buoyant animal nature with a curb112 of studiousness, as if the fardels of age were piling on his shoulders before youth had quitted its pastures.
His build of limbs and his features were those of the finely-bred English; he had the English taste for sports, games, manly diversions; and in the bloom of life, under thirty, his head was given to bend. The head bending on a tall upright figure, where there was breadth of chest, told of weights working. She recollected his open look, larger than inquiring, at the introduction to her; and it recurred113 when she uttered anything specially36 taking. What it meant was past a guess, though comparing it with the frank directness of Redworth’s eyes, she saw the difference between a look that accepted her and one that dilated114 on two opinions.
Her thought of the gentleman was of a brilliant young charioteer in the ruck of the race, watchful115 for his chance to push to the front; and she could have said that a dubious116 consort117 might spoil a promising118 career. It flattered her to think that she sometimes prompted him, sometimes illumined. He repeated sentences she had spoken. ‘I shall be better able to describe Mr. Dacier when you and I sit together, my Emmy, and a stroke here and there completes the painting. Set descriptions are good for puppets. Living men and women are too various in the mixture fashioning them—even the “external presentment”—to be livingly rendered in a formal sketch. I may tell you his eyes are pale blue, his features regular, his hair silky, brownish, his legs long, his head rather stooping (only the head), his mouth commonly closed; these are the facts, and you have seen much the same in a nursery doll. Such literary craft is of the nursery. So with landscapes. The art of the pen (we write on darkness) is to rouse the inward vision, instead of labouring with a Drop-scene brush, as if it were to the eye; because our flying minds cannot contain a protracted119 description. That is why the poets, who spring imagination with a word or a phrase, paint lasting120 pictures. The Shakespearian, the Dantesque, are in a line, two at most. He lends an attentive121 ear when I speak, agrees or has a quaint22 pucker122 of the eyebrows123 dissenting124 inwardly. He lacks mental liveliness—cheerfulness, I should say, and is thankful to have it imparted. One suspects he would be a dull domestic companion. He has a veritable thirst for hopeful views of the world, and no spiritual distillery of his own. He leans to depression. Why! The broken reed you call your Tony carries a cargo125, all of her manufacture—she reeks126 of secret stills; and here is a young man—a sapling oak—inclined to droop127. His nature has an air of imploring128 me que je d’arrose! I begin to perform Mrs. Dr. Pangloss on purpose to brighten him—the mind, the views. He is not altogether deficient129 in conversational130 gaiety, and he shines in exercise. But the world is a poor old ball bounding down a hill—to an Irish melody in the evening generally, by request. So far of Mr. Percy Dacier, of whom I have some hopes—distant, perhaps delusive—that he may be of use to our cause. He listens. It is an auspicious131 commencement.’
Lugano is the Italian lake most lovingly encircled by mountain arms, and every height about it may be scaled with esce. The heights have their nest of waters below for a home scene, the southern Swiss peaks, with celestial132 Monta Rosa, in prospect133. It was there that Diana reawakened, after the trance of a deadly draught134, to the glory of the earth and her share in it. She wakened like the Princess of the Kiss; happily not to kisses; to no sign, touch or call that she could trace backward. The change befell her without a warning. After writing deliberately135 to her friend Emma, she laid down her pen and thought of nothing; and into this dreamfulness a wine passed, filling her veins136, suffusing137 her mind, quickening her soul: and coming whence? out of air, out of the yonder of air. She could have imagined a seraphic presence in the room, that bade her arise and live; take the cup of the wells of youth arrested at her lips by her marriage; quit her wintry bondage138 for warmth, light, space, the quick of simple being. And the strange pure ecstasy139 was not a transient electrification140; it came in waves on a continuous tide; looking was living; walking flying. She hardly knew that she slept. The heights she had seen rosy141 at eve were marked for her ascent142 in the dawn. Sleep was one wink143, and fresh as the dewy field and rockflowers on her way upward, she sprang to more and more of heaven, insatiable, happily chirruping over her possessions. The threading of the town among the dear common people before others were abroad, was a pleasure and pleasant her solitariness144 threading the gardens at the base of the rock, only she astir; and the first rough steps of the winding145 footpath146, the first closed buds, the sharper air, the uprising of the mountain with her ascent; and pleasant too was her hunger and the nibble147 at a little loaf of bread. A linnet sang in her breast, an eagle lifted her feet. The feet were verily winged, as they are in a season of youth when the blood leaps to light from the pressure of the under forces, like a source at the wellheads, and the whole creature blooms, vital in every energy as a spirit. To be a girl again was magical. She could fancy her having risen from the dead. And to be a girl, with a woman’s broader vision and receptiveness of soul, with knowledge of evil, and winging to ethereal happiness, this was a revelation of our human powers.
She attributed the change to the influences of nature’s beauty and grandeur148. Nor had her woman’s consciousness to play the chrysalis in any shy recesses149 of her heart; she was nowhere veiled or torpid150; she was illumined, like the Salvatore she saw in the evening beams and mounted in the morning’s; and she had not a spot of seeresy; all her nature flew and bloomed; she was bird, flower, flowing river, a quivering sensibility unweighted, enshrouded. Desires and hopes would surely have weighted and shrouded151 her. She had none, save for the upper air, the eyes of the mountain.
Which was the dream—her past life or this ethereal existence? But this ran spontaneously, and the other had often been stimulated—her vivaciousness152 on the Nile-boat, for a recent example. She had not a doubt that her past life was the dream, or deception153: and for the reason that now she was compassionate154, large of heart toward all beneath her. Let them but leave her free, they were forgiven, even to prayers for their well-being155! The plural156 number in the case was an involuntary multiplying of the single, coming of her incapacity during this elevation157 and rapture158 of the senses to think distinctly of that One who had discoloured her opening life. Freedom to breathe, gaze, climb, grow with the grasses, fly with the clouds, to muse159, to sing, to be an unclaimed self, dispersed160 upon earth, air, sky, to find a keener transfigured self in that radiation—she craved161 no more.
Bear in mind her beauty, her charm of tongue, her present state of white simplicity162 in fervour: was there ever so perilous a woman for the most guarded and clearest-eyed of young men to meet at early morn upon a mountain side?
1 reapers | |
n.收割者,收获者( reaper的名词复数 );收割机 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
2 bruise | |
n.青肿,挫伤;伤痕;vt.打青;挫伤 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
3 arena | |
n.竞技场,运动场所;竞争场所,舞台 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
4 cleansed | |
弄干净,清洗( cleanse的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
5 discretion | |
n.谨慎;随意处理 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
6 insistency | |
强迫,坚决要求 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
7 shriek | |
v./n.尖叫,叫喊 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
8 triumphant | |
adj.胜利的,成功的;狂欢的,喜悦的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
9 vanquished | |
v.征服( vanquish的过去式和过去分词 );战胜;克服;抑制 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
10 erring | |
做错事的,错误的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
11 yoke | |
n.轭;支配;v.给...上轭,连接,使成配偶 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
12 ashen | |
adj.灰的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
13 laurels | |
n.桂冠,荣誉 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
14 compassion | |
n.同情,怜悯 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
15 subterfuges | |
n.(用说谎或欺骗以逃脱责备、困难等的)花招,遁词( subterfuge的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
16 machinery | |
n.(总称)机械,机器;机构 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
17 offenders | |
n.冒犯者( offender的名词复数 );犯规者;罪犯;妨害…的人(或事物) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
18 jealousy | |
n.妒忌,嫉妒,猜忌 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
19 bosom | |
n.胸,胸部;胸怀;内心;adj.亲密的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
20 distinguished | |
adj.卓越的,杰出的,著名的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
21 meditating | |
a.沉思的,冥想的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
22 quaint | |
adj.古雅的,离奇有趣的,奇怪的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
23 conjuring | |
n.魔术 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
24 erratic | |
adj.古怪的,反复无常的,不稳定的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
25 wedlock | |
n.婚姻,已婚状态 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
26 inspection | |
n.检查,审查,检阅 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
27 impulsive | |
adj.冲动的,刺激的;有推动力的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
28 delightfully | |
大喜,欣然 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
29 throb | |
v.震颤,颤动;(急速强烈地)跳动,搏动 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
30 defensiveness | |
防御性 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
31 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: |
|
|
33 swarm | |
n.(昆虫)等一大群;vi.成群飞舞;蜂拥而入 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
34 prefix | |
n.前缀;vt.加…作为前缀;置于前面 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
35 Christian | |
adj.基督教徒的;n.基督教徒 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
36 specially | |
adv.特定地;特殊地;明确地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
37 intimacy | |
n.熟悉,亲密,密切关系,亲昵的言行 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
38 mere | |
adj.纯粹的;仅仅,只不过 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
39 bestow | |
v.把…赠与,把…授予;花费 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
40 loomed | |
v.隐约出现,阴森地逼近( loom的过去式和过去分词 );隐约出现,阴森地逼近 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
41 secrete | |
vt.分泌;隐匿,使隐秘 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
42 sapphire | |
n.青玉,蓝宝石;adj.天蓝色的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
43 Mediterranean | |
adj.地中海的;地中海沿岸的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
44 invalid | |
n.病人,伤残人;adj.有病的,伤残的;无效的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
45 sketches | |
n.草图( sketch的名词复数 );素描;速写;梗概 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
46 sketch | |
n.草图;梗概;素描;v.素描;概述 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
47 perilous | |
adj.危险的,冒险的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
48 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 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
49 urchins | |
n.顽童( urchin的名词复数 );淘气鬼;猬;海胆 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
50 supple | |
adj.柔软的,易弯的,逢迎的,顺从的,灵活的;vt.使柔软,使柔顺,使顺从;vi.变柔软,变柔顺 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
51 furrowed | |
v.犁田,开沟( furrow的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
52 allusions | |
暗指,间接提到( allusion的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
53 makers | |
n.制造者,制造商(maker的复数形式) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
54 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: |
|
|
55 thither | |
adv.向那里;adj.在那边的,对岸的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
56 posturing | |
做出某种姿势( posture的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
57 sentimental | |
adj.多愁善感的,感伤的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
58 hereditary | |
adj.遗传的,遗传性的,可继承的,世袭的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
59 wilful | |
adj.任性的,故意的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
60 opposition | |
n.反对,敌对 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
61 generosity | |
n.大度,慷慨,慷慨的行为 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
62 fervid | |
adj.热情的;炽热的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
63 yearn | |
v.想念;怀念;渴望 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
64 martyr | |
n.烈士,殉难者;vt.杀害,折磨,牺牲 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
65 orators | |
n.演说者,演讲家( orator的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
66 devoted | |
adj.忠诚的,忠实的,热心的,献身于...的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
67 peculiar | |
adj.古怪的,异常的;特殊的,特有的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
68 plunge | |
v.跳入,(使)投入,(使)陷入;猛冲 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
69 haven | |
n.安全的地方,避难所,庇护所 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
70 heed | |
v.注意,留意;n.注意,留心 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
71 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: |
|
|
72 delusion | |
n.谬见,欺骗,幻觉,迷惑 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
73 paradox | |
n.似乎矛盾却正确的说法;自相矛盾的人(物) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
74 dread | |
vt.担忧,忧虑;惧怕,不敢;n.担忧,畏惧 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
75 maidens | |
处女( maiden的名词复数 ); 少女; 未婚女子; (板球运动)未得分的一轮投球 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
76 aloof | |
adj.远离的;冷淡的,漠不关心的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
77 speculative | |
adj.思索性的,暝想性的,推理的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
78 impersonal | |
adj.无个人感情的,与个人无关的,非人称的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
79 albeit | |
conj.即使;纵使;虽然 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
80 amiable | |
adj.和蔼可亲的,友善的,亲切的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
81 tempting | |
a.诱人的, 吸引人的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
82 mutual | |
adj.相互的,彼此的;共同的,共有的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
83 deference | |
n.尊重,顺从;敬意 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
84 subscribe | |
vi.(to)订阅,订购;同意;vt.捐助,赞助 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
85 affected | |
adj.不自然的,假装的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
86 pointed | |
adj.尖的,直截了当的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
87 apprenticed | |
学徒,徒弟( apprentice的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
88 esteemed | |
adj.受人尊敬的v.尊敬( esteem的过去式和过去分词 );敬重;认为;以为 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
89 consul | |
n.领事;执政官 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
90 perceptiveness | |
n.洞察力强,敏锐,理解力 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
91 manly | |
adj.有男子气概的;adv.男子般地,果断地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
92 vocal | |
adj.直言不讳的;嗓音的;n.[pl.]声乐节目 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
93 leaven | |
v.使发酵;n.酵母;影响 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
94 solitary | |
adj.孤独的,独立的,荒凉的;n.隐士 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
95 exclamation | |
n.感叹号,惊呼,惊叹词 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
96 apprehensive | |
adj.担心的,恐惧的,善于领会的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
97 ominous | |
adj.不祥的,不吉的,预兆的,预示的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
98 intervention | |
n.介入,干涉,干预 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
99 mighty | |
adj.强有力的;巨大的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
100 fabulous | |
adj.极好的;极为巨大的;寓言中的,传说中的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
101 devoured | |
吞没( devour的过去式和过去分词 ); 耗尽; 津津有味地看; 狼吞虎咽地吃光 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
102 ministry | |
n.(政府的)部;牧师 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
103 descending | |
n. 下行 adj. 下降的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
104 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: |
|
|
105 ardent | |
adj.热情的,热烈的,强烈的,烈性的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
106 pointedly | |
adv.尖地,明显地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
107 complimentary | |
adj.赠送的,免费的,赞美的,恭维的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
108 inflaming | |
v.(使)变红,发怒,过热( inflame的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
109 resetting | |
v.重新安放或安置( reset的现在分词 );重拨(测量仪器指针);为(考试、测试等)出一套新题;重新安置,将…恢复原位 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
110 brotherhood | |
n.兄弟般的关系,手中情谊 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
111 milky | |
adj.牛奶的,多奶的;乳白色的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
112 curb | |
n.场外证券市场,场外交易;vt.制止,抑制 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
113 recurred | |
再发生,复发( recur的过去式和过去分词 ); 治愈 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
114 dilated | |
adj.加宽的,扩大的v.(使某物)扩大,膨胀,张大( dilate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
115 watchful | |
adj.注意的,警惕的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
116 dubious | |
adj.怀疑的,无把握的;有问题的,靠不住的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
117 consort | |
v.相伴;结交 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
118 promising | |
adj.有希望的,有前途的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
119 protracted | |
adj.拖延的;延长的v.拖延“protract”的过去式和过去分词 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
120 lasting | |
adj.永久的,永恒的;vbl.持续,维持 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
121 attentive | |
adj.注意的,专心的;关心(别人)的,殷勤的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
122 pucker | |
v.撅起,使起皱;n.(衣服上的)皱纹,褶子 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
123 eyebrows | |
眉毛( eyebrow的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
124 dissenting | |
adj.不同意的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
125 cargo | |
n.(一只船或一架飞机运载的)货物 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
126 reeks | |
n.恶臭( reek的名词复数 )v.发出浓烈的臭气( reek的第三人称单数 );散发臭气;发出难闻的气味 (of sth);明显带有(令人不快或生疑的跡象) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
127 droop | |
v.低垂,下垂;凋萎,萎靡 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
128 imploring | |
恳求的,哀求的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
129 deficient | |
adj.不足的,不充份的,有缺陷的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
130 conversational | |
adj.对话的,会话的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
131 auspicious | |
adj.吉利的;幸运的,吉兆的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
132 celestial | |
adj.天体的;天上的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
133 prospect | |
n.前景,前途;景色,视野 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
134 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: |
|
|
135 deliberately | |
adv.审慎地;蓄意地;故意地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
136 veins | |
n.纹理;矿脉( vein的名词复数 );静脉;叶脉;纹理 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
137 suffusing | |
v.(指颜色、水气等)弥漫于,布满( suffuse的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
138 bondage | |
n.奴役,束缚 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
139 ecstasy | |
n.狂喜,心醉神怡,入迷 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
140 electrification | |
n.充电,电气化;起电;电化;带电 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
141 rosy | |
adj.美好的,乐观的,玫瑰色的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
142 ascent | |
n.(声望或地位)提高;上升,升高;登高 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
143 wink | |
n.眨眼,使眼色,瞬间;v.眨眼,使眼色,闪烁 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
144 solitariness | |
n.隐居;单独 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
145 winding | |
n.绕,缠,绕组,线圈 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
146 footpath | |
n.小路,人行道 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
147 nibble | |
n.轻咬,啃;v.一点点地咬,慢慢啃,吹毛求疵 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
148 grandeur | |
n.伟大,崇高,宏伟,庄严,豪华 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
149 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: |
|
|
150 torpid | |
adj.麻痹的,麻木的,迟钝的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
151 shrouded | |
v.隐瞒( shroud的过去式和过去分词 );保密 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
152 vivaciousness | |
活泼的性格 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
153 deception | |
n.欺骗,欺诈;骗局,诡计 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
154 compassionate | |
adj.有同情心的,表示同情的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
155 well-being | |
n.安康,安乐,幸福 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
156 plural | |
n.复数;复数形式;adj.复数的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
157 elevation | |
n.高度;海拔;高地;上升;提高 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
158 rapture | |
n.狂喜;全神贯注;着迷;v.使狂喜 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
159 muse | |
n.缪斯(希腊神话中的女神),创作灵感 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
160 dispersed | |
adj. 被驱散的, 被分散的, 散布的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
161 craved | |
渴望,热望( crave的过去式 ); 恳求,请求 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
162 simplicity | |
n.简单,简易;朴素;直率,单纯 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
欢迎访问英文小说网 |