This quarrel may draw blood another day.
Henry IV. Part I.
The conclave1 of citizens appointed to meet for investigating the affray of the preceding evening had now assembled. The workroom of Simon Glover was filled to crowding by personages of no little consequence, some of whom wore black velvet3 cloaks, and gold chains around their necks. They were, indeed, the fathers of the city; and there were bailies and deacons in the honoured number. There was an ireful and offended air of importance upon every brow as they conversed4 together, rather in whisper than aloud or in detail. Busiest among the busy, the little important assistant of the previous night, Oliver Proudfute by name, and bonnet5 maker6 by profession, was bustling8 among the crowd, much after the manner of the seagull, which flutters, screams, and sputters9 most at the commencement of a gale10 of wind, though one can hardly conceive what the bird has better to do than to fly to its nest and remain quiet till the gale is over.
Be that as it may, Master Proudfute was in the midst of the crowd, his fingers upon every one’s button and his mouth in every man’s ear, embracing such as were near to his own stature11, that he might more closely and mysteriously utter his sentiments; and standing12 on tiptoe, and supporting himself by the cloak collars of tall men, that he might dole13 out to them also the same share of information. He felt himself one of the heroes of the affair, being conscious of the dignity of superior information on the subject as an eyewitness14, and much disposed to push his connexion with the scuffle a few points beyond the modesty15 of truth. It cannot be said that his communications were in especial curious and important, consisting chiefly of such assertions as these:
“It is all true, by St. John! I was there and saw it myself — was the first to run to the fray2; and if it had not been for me and another stout16 fellow, who came in about the same time, they had broken into Simon Glover’s house, cut his throat, and carried his daughter off to the mountains. It is too evil usage — not to be suffered, neighbour Crookshank; not to be endured, neighbour Glass; not to be borne, neighbours Balneaves, Rollock, and Chrysteson. It was a mercy that I and that stout fellow came in, was it not, neighbour and worthy17 Bailie Craigdallie?”
These speeches were dispersed18 by the busy bonnet maker into sundry19 ears. Bailie Craigdallie, a portly guild20 brother, the same who had advised the prorogation21 of their civic22 council to the present place and hour, a big, burly, good looking man, shook the deacon from his cloak with pretty much the grace with which a large horse shrugs23 off the importunate24 fly that has beset25 him for ten minutes, and exclaimed, “Silence, good citizens; here comes Simon Glover, in whom no man ever saw falsehood. We will hear the outrage26 from his own mouth.”
Simon being called upon to tell his tale, did so with obvious embarrassment27, which he imputed28 to a reluctance29 that the burgh should be put in deadly feud30 with any one upon his account. It was, he dared to say, a masking or revel31 on the part of the young gallants about court; and the worst that might come of it would be, that he would put iron stanchions on his daughter’s window, in case of such another frolic.
“Why, then, if this was a mere33 masking or mummery,” said Craigdallie, “our townsman, Harry34 of the Wind, did far wrong to cut off a gentleman’s hand for such a harmless pleasantry, and the town may be brought to a heavy fine for it, unless we secure the person of the mutilator.”
“Our Lady forbid!” said the glover. “Did you know what I do, you would be as much afraid of handling this matter as if it were glowing iron. But, since you will needs put your fingers in the fire, truth must be spoken. And come what will, I must say, that the matter might have ended ill for me and mine, but for the opportune36 assistance of Henry Gow, the armourer, well known to you all.”
“And mine also was not awanting,” said Oliver Proudfute, “though I do not profess7 to be utterly38 so good a swordsman as our neighbour Henry Gow. You saw me, neighbour Glover, at the beginning of the fray?”
“I saw you after the end of it, neighbour,” answered the glover, drily.
“True — true; I had forgot you were in your house while the blows were going, and could not survey who were dealing39 them.”
“Peace, neighbour Proudfute — I prithee, peace,” said Craigdallie, who was obviously tired of the tuneless screeching40 of the worthy deacon.
“There is something mysterious here,” said the bailie; “but I think I spy the secret. Our friend Simon is, as you all know, a peaceful man, and one that will rather sit down with wrong than put a friend, or say a neighbourhood, in danger to seek his redress41. Thou, Henry, who art never wanting where the burgh needs a defender42, tell us what thou knowest of this matter.”
Our smith told his story to the same purpose which we have already related; and the meddling43 maker of bonnets44 added as before, “And thou sawest me there, honest smith, didst thou not?”
“Not I, in good faith, neighbour,” answered Henry; “but you are a little man, you know, and I might overlook you.”
This reply produced a laugh at Oliver’s expense, who laughed for company, but added doggedly45, “I was one of the foremost to the rescue for all that.”
“Why, where wert thou, then, neighbour?” said the smith; “for I saw you not, and I would have given the worth of the best suit of armour37 I ever wrought46 to have seen as stout a fellow as thou at my elbow.”
“I was no farther off, however, honest smith; and whilst thou wert laying on blows as if on an anvil47, I was parrying those that the rest of the villains48 aimed at thee behind thy back; and that is the cause thou sawest me not.”
“I have heard of smiths of old time who had but one eye,” said Henry; “I have two, but they are both set in my forehead, and so I could not see behind my back, neighbour.”
“The truth is, however,” persevered49 Master Oliver, “there I was, and I will give Master Bailie my account of the matter; for the smith and I were first up to the fray.”
“Enough at present,” said the bailie, waving to Master Proudfute an injunction of silence. “The precognition of Simon Glover and Henry Gow would bear out a matter less worthy of belief. And now, my masters, your opinion what should be done. Here are all our burgher rights broken through and insulted, and you may well fancy that it is by some man of power, since no less dared have attempted such an outrage. My masters, it is hard on flesh and blood to submit to this. The laws have framed us of lower rank than the princes and nobles, yet it is against reason to suppose that we will suffer our houses to be broken into, and the honour of our women insulted, without some redress.”
“It is not to be endured!” answered the citizens, unanimously.
Here Simon Glover interfered50 with a very anxious and ominous51 countenance52. “I hope still that all was not meant so ill as it seemed to us, my worthy neighbours; and I for one would cheerfully forgive the alarm and disturbance53 to my poor house, providing the Fair City were not brought into jeopardy54 for me. I beseech55 you to consider who are to be our judges that are to hear the case, and give or refuse redress. I speak among neighbours and friends, and therefore I speak openly. The King, God bless him! is so broken in mind and body, that he will but turn us over to some great man amongst his counsellors who shall be in favour for the time. Perchance he will refer us to his brother the Duke of Albany, who will make our petition for righting of our wrongs the pretence56 for squeezing money out of us.”
“We will none of Albany for our judge!” answered the meeting with the same unanimity57 as before.
“Or perhaps,” added Simon, “he will bid the Duke of Rothsay take charge of it; and the wild young prince will regard the outrage as something for his gay companions to scoff58 at, and his minstrels to turn into song.”
“Away with Rothsay! he is too gay to be our judge,” again exclaimed the citizens.
Simon, emboldened59 by seeing he was reaching the point he aimed at, yet pronouncing the dreaded60 name with a half whisper, next added, “Would you like the Black Douglas better to deal with?”
There was no answer for a minute. They looked on each other with fallen countenances61 and blanched62 lips.
But Henry Smith spoke35 out boldly, and in a decided63 voice, the sentiments which all felt, but none else dared give words to: “The Black Douglas to judge betwixt a burgher and a gentleman, nay64, a nobleman, for all I know or care! The black devil of hell sooner! You are mad, father Simon, so much as to name so wild a proposal.”
There was again a silence of fear and uncertainty65, which was at length broken by Bailie Craigdallie, who, looking very significantly to the speaker, replied, “You are confident in a stout doublet, neighbour Smith, or you would not talk so boldly.”
“I am confident of a good heart under my doublet, such as it is, bailie,” answered the undaunted Henry; “and though I speak but little, my mouth shall never be padlocked by any noble of them all.”
“Wear a thick doublet, good Henry, or do not speak so loud,” reiterated66 the bailie in the same significant tone. “There are Border men in the town who wear the bloody67 heart on their shoulder. But all this is no rede. What shall we do?”
“Short rede, good rede,” said the smith. “Let us to our provost, and demand his countenance and assistance.”
A murmur68 of applause went through the party, and Oliver Proudfute exclaimed, “That is what I have been saying for this half hour, and not one of ye would listen to me. ‘Let us go to our provost,’ said I. ‘He is a gentleman himself, and ought to come between the burgh and the nobles in all matters.”
“Hush69, neighbours — hush; be wary70 what you say or do,” said a thin meagre figure of a man, whose diminutive71 person seemed still more reduced in size, and more assimilated to a shadow, by his efforts to assume an extreme degree of humility72, and make himself, to suit his argument, look meaner yet, and yet more insignificant73, than nature had made him.
“Pardon me,” said he; “I am but a poor pottingar. Nevertheless, I have been bred in Paris, and learned my humanities and my cursus medendi as well as some that call themselves learned leeches74. Methinks I can tent this wound, and treat it with emollients75. Here is our friend Simon Glover, who is, as you all know, a man of worship. Think you he would not be the most willing of us all to pursue harsh courses here, since his family honour is so nearly concerned? And since he blenches76 away from the charge against these same revellers, consider if he may not have some good reason more than he cares to utter for letting the matter sleep. It is not for me to put my finger on the sore; but, alack! we all know that young maidens77 are what I call fugitive79 essences. Suppose now, an honest maiden78 — I mean in all innocence80 — leaves her window unlatched on St. Valentine’s morn, that some gallant32 cavalier may — in all honesty, I mean — become her Valentine for the season, and suppose the gallant be discovered, may she not scream out as if the visit were unexpected, and — and — bray81 all this in a mortar82, and then consider, will it be a matter to place the town in feud for?”
The pottingar delivered his opinion in a most insinuating83 manner; but he seemed to shrink into something less than his natural tenuity when he saw the blood rise in the old cheek of Simon Glover, and inflame84 to the temples the complexion85 of the redoubted smith.
The last, stepping forward, and turning a stern look on the alarmed pottingar, broke out as follows: “Thou walking skeleton! thou asthmatic gallipot! thou poisoner by profession! if I thought that the puff86 of vile87 breath thou hast left could blight88 for the tenth part of a minute the fair fame of Catharine Glover, I would pound thee, quacksalver! in thine own mortar, and beat up thy wretched carrion89 with flower of brimstone, the only real medicine in thy booth, to make a salve to rub mangy hounds with!”
“Hold, son Henry — hold!” cried the glover, in a tone of authority, “no man has title to speak of this matter but me. Worshipful Bailie Craigdallie, since such is the construction that is put upon my patience, I am willing to pursue this riot to the uttermost; and though the issue may prove that we had better have been patient, you will all see that my Catharine hath not by any lightness or folly90 of hers afforded grounds for this great scandal.”
The bailie also interposed. “Neighbour Henry,” said he, “we came here to consult, and not to quarrel. As one of the fathers of the Fair City, I command thee to forego all evil will and maltalent you may have against Master Pottingar Dwining.”
“He is too poor a creature, bailie,” said Henry Gow, “for me to harbour feud with — I that could destroy him and his booth with one blow of my forehammer.”
“Peace, then, and hear me,” said the official. “We all are as much believers in the honour of the Fair Maiden of Perth as in that of our Blessed Lady.” Here he crossed himself devoutly91. “But touching92 our appeal to our provost, are you agreed, neighbours, to put matter like this into our provost’s hand, being against a powerful noble, as is to be feared?”
“The provost being himself a nobleman,” squeaked93 the pottingar, in some measure released from his terror by the intervention94 of the bailie. “God knows, I speak not to the disparagement95 of an honourable96 gentleman, whose forebears have held the office he now holds for many years —”
“By free choice of the citizens of Perth,” said the smith, interrupting the speaker with the tones of his deep and decisive voice.
“Ay, surely,” said the disconcerted orator97, “by the voice of the citizens. How else? I pray you, friend Smith, interrupt me not. I speak to our worthy and eldest98 bailie, Craigdallie, according to my poor mind. I say that, come amongst us how he will, still this Sir Patrick Charteris is a nobleman, and hawks99 will not pick hawks’ eyes out. He may well bear us out in a feud with the Highlandmen, and do the part of our provost and leader against them; but whether he that himself wears silk will take our part against broidered cloak and cloth of gold, though he may do so against tartan and Irish frieze101, is something to be questioned. Take a fool’s advice. We have saved our Maiden, of whom I never meant to speak harm, as truly I knew none. They have lost one man’s hand, at least, thanks to Harry Smith —”
“And to me,” added the little important bonnet maker.
“And to Oliver Proudfute, as he tells us,” continued the pottingar, who contested no man’s claim to glory provided he was not himself compelled to tread the perilous103 paths which lead to it. “I say, neighbours, since they have left a hand as a pledge they will never come in Couvrefew Street again, why, in my simple mind, we were best to thank our stout townsman, and the town having the honour and these rakehells the loss, that we should hush the matter up and say no more about it.”
These pacific counsels had their effect with some of the citizens, who began to nod and look exceedingly wise upon the advocate of acquiescence104, with whom, notwithstanding the offence so lately given, Simon Glover seemed also to agree in opinion. But not so Henry Smith, who, seeing the consultation105 at a stand, took up the speech in his usual downright manner.
“I am neither the oldest nor the richest among you, neighbours, and I am not sorry for it. Years will come, if one lives to see them; and I can win and spend my penny like another, by the blaze of the furnace and the wind of the bellows106. But no man ever saw me sit down with wrong done in word or deed to our fair town, if man’s tongue and man’s hand could right it. Neither will I sit down with this outrage, if I can help it. I will go to the provost myself, if no one will go with me; he is a knight107, it is true, and a gentleman of free and true born blood, as we all know, since Wallace’s time, who settled his great grandsire amongst us. But if he were the proudest nobleman in the land, he is the Provost of Perth, and for his own honour must see the freedoms and immunities108 of the burgh preserved — ay, and I know he will. I have made a steel doublet for him, and have a good guess at the kind of heart that it was meant to cover.”
“Surely,” said Bailie Craigdallie, “it would be to no purpose to stir at court without Sir Patrick Charteris’s countenance: the ready answer would be, ‘Go to your provost, you borrel loons.’ So, neighbours and townsmen, if you will stand by my side, I and our pottingar Dwining will repair presently to Kinfauns, with Sim Glover, the jolly smith, and gallant Oliver Proudfute, for witnesses to the onslaught, and speak with Sir Patrick Charteris, in name of the fair town.”
“Nay,” said the peaceful man of medicine, “leave me behind, I pray you: I lack audacity109 to speak before a belted knight.”
“Never regard that, neighbour, you must go,” said Bailie Craigdallie. “The town hold me a hot headed carle for a man of threescore; Sim Glover is the offended party; we all know that Harry Gow spoils more harness with his sword than he makes with his hammer and our neighbour Proudfute, who, take his own word, is at the beginning and end of every fray in Perth, is of course a man of action. We must have at least one advocate amongst us for peace and quietness; and thou, pottingar, must be the man. Away with you, sirs, get your boots and your beasts — horse and hattock, I say, and let us meet at the East Port; that is, if it is your pleasure, neighbours, to trust us with the matter.”
“There can be no better rede, and we will all avouch110 it,” said the citizens. “If the provost take our part, as the Fair Town hath a right to expect, we may bell the cat with the best of them.”
“It is well, then, neighbours,” answered the bailie; “so said, so shall be done. Meanwhile, I have called the whole town council together about this hour, and I have little doubt,” looking around the company, “that, as so many of them who are in this place have resolved to consult with our provost, the rest will be compliant111 to the same resolution. And, therefore, neighbours, and good burghers of the Fair City of Perth, horse and hattock, as I said before, and meet me at the East Port.”
A general acclamation concluded the sitting of this species of privy112 council, or Lords of the Articles; and they dispersed, the deputation to prepare for the journey, and the rest to tell their impatient wives and daughters of the measures they had taken to render their chambers113 safe in future against the intrusion of gallants at unseasonable hours.
While nags114 are saddling, and the town council debating, or rather putting in form what the leading members of their body had already adopted, it may be necessary, for the information of some readers, to state in distinct terms what is more circuitously115 intimated in the course of the former discussion.
It was the custom at this period, when the strength of the feudal116 aristocracy controlled the rights, and frequently insulted the privileges, of the royal burghs of Scotland, that the latter, where it was practicable, often chose their provost, or chief magistrate117, not out of the order of the merchants, shopkeepers, and citizens, who inhabited the town itself, and filled up the roll of the ordinary magistracy, but elected to that preeminent118 state some powerful nobleman, or baron119, in the neighbourhood of the burgh, who was expected to stand their friend at court in such matters as concerned their common weal, and to lead their civil militia120 to fight, whether in general battle or in private feud, reinforcing them with his own feudal retainers. This protection was not always gratuitous121. The provosts sometimes availed themselves of their situation to an unjustifiable degree, and obtained grants of lands and tenements122 belonging to the common good, or public property of the burgh, and thus made the citizens pay dear for the countenance which they afforded. Others were satisfied to receive the powerful aid of the townsmen in their own feudal quarrels, with such other marks of respect and benevolence123 as the burgh over which they presided were willing to gratify them with, in order to secure their active services in case of necessity. The baron, who was the regular protector of a royal burgh, accepted such freewill offerings without scruple124, and repaid them by defending the rights of the town by arguments in the council and by bold deeds in the field.
The citizens of the town, or, as they loved better to call it, the Fair City, of Perth, had for several generations found a protector and provost of this kind in the knightly125 family of Charteris, Lords of Kinfauns, in the neighbourhood of the burgh. It was scarce a century (in the time of Robert III) since the first of this distinguished126 family had settled in the strong castle which now belonged to them, with the picturesque127 and fertile scenes adjoining to it. But the history of the first settler, chivalrous128 and romantic in itself, was calculated to facilitate the settlement of an alien in the land in which his lot was cast. We relate it as it is given by an ancient and uniform tradition, which carries in it great indications of truth, and is warrant enough, perhaps, for it insertion in graver histories than the present.
During the brief career of the celebrated129 patriot130 Sir William Wallace, and when his arms had for a time expelled the English invaders131 from his native country, he is said to have undertaken a voyage to France, with a small band of trusty friends, to try what his presence (for he was respected through all countries for his prowess) might do to induce the French monarch132 to send to Scotland a body of auxiliary133 forces, or other assistance, to aid the Scots in regaining134 their independence.
The Scottish Champion was on board a small vessel135, and steering137 for the port of Dieppe, when a sail appeared in the distance, which the mariners138 regarded, first with doubt and apprehension139, and at last with confusion and dismay. Wallace demanded to know what was the cause of their alarm. The captain of the ship informed him that the tall vessel which was bearing down, with the purpose of boarding that which he commanded, was the ship of a celebrated rover, equally famed for his courage, strength of body, and successful piracies140. It was commanded by a gentleman named Thomas de Longueville, a Frenchman by birth, but by practice one of those pirates who called themselves friends to the sea and enemies to all who sailed upon that element. He attacked and plundered141 vessels142 of all nations, like one of the ancient Norse sea kings, as they were termed, whose dominion143 was upon the mountain waves. The master added that no vessel could escape the rover by flight, so speedy was the bark he commanded; and that no crew, however hardy144, could hope to resist him, when, as was his usual mode of combat, he threw himself on board at the head of his followers145.
Wallace smiled sternly, while the master of the ship, with alarm in his countenance and tears in his eyes, described to him the certainty of their being captured by the Red Rover, a name given to De Longueville, because he usually displayed the blood red flag, which he had now hoisted146.
“I will clear the narrow seas of this rover,” said Wallace.
Then calling together some ten or twelve of his own followers, Boyd, Kerlie, Seton, and others, to whom the dust of the most desperate battle was like the breath of life, he commanded them to arm themselves, and lie flat upon the deck, so as to be out of sight. He ordered the mariners below, excepting such as were absolutely necessary to manage the vessel; and he gave the master instructions, upon pain of death, so to steer136 as that, while the vessel had an appearance of attempting to fly, he should in fact permit the Red Rover to come up with them and do his worst. Wallace himself then lay down on the deck, that nothing might be seen which could intimate any purpose of resistance. In a quarter of an hour De Longueville’s vessel ran on board that of the Champion, and the Red Rover, casting out grappling irons to make sure of his prize, jumped on the deck in complete armour, followed by his men, who gave a terrible shout, as if victory had been already secured. But the armed Scots started up at once, and the rover found himself unexpectedly engaged with men accustomed to consider victory as secure when they were only opposed as one to two or three. Wallace himself rushed on the pirate captain, and a dreadful strife147 began betwixt them with such fury that the others suspended their own battle to look on, and seemed by common consent to refer the issue of the strife to the fate of the combat between the two chiefs. The pirate fought as well as man could do; but Wallace’s strength was beyond that of ordinary mortals. He dashed the sword from the rover’s hand, and placed him in such peril102 that, to avoid being cut down, he was fain to close with the Scottish Champion in hopes of overpowering him in the grapple. In this also he was foiled. They fell on the deck, locked in each other’s arms, but the Frenchman fell undermost; and Wallace, fixing his grasp upon his gorget, compressed it so closely, notwithstanding it was made of the finest steel, that the blood gushed148 from his eyes, nose, and month, and he was only able to ask for quarter by signs. His men threw down their weapons and begged for mercy when they saw their leader thus severely149 handled. The victor granted them all their lives, but took possession of their vessel, and detained them prisoners.
When he came in sight of the French harbour, Wallace alarmed the place by displaying the rover’s colours, as if De Longueville was coming to pillage150 the town. The bells were rung backward, horns were blown, and the citizens were hurrying to arms, when the scene changed. The Scottish Lion on his shield of gold was raised above the piratical flag, and announced that the Champion of Scotland was approaching, like a falcon151 with his prey152 in his clutch. He landed with his prisoner, and carried him to the court of France, where, at Wallace’s request, the robberies which the pirate had committed were forgiven, and the king even conferred the honour of knighthood on Sir Thomas de Longueville, and offered to take him into his service. But the rover had contracted such a friendship for his generous victor, that he insisted on uniting his fortunes with those of Wallace, with whom he returned to Scotland, and fought by his side in many a bloody battle, where the prowess of Sir Thomas de Longueville was remarked as inferior to that of none, save of his heroic conqueror153. His fate also was more fortunate than that of his patron. Being distinguished by the beauty as well as strength of his person, he rendered himself so acceptable to a young lady, heiress of the ancient family of Charteris, that she chose him for her husband, bestowing154 on him with her hand the fair baronial Castle of Kinfauns, and the domains155 annexed156 to it. Their descendants took the name of Charteris, as connecting themselves with their maternal157 ancestors, the ancient proprietors158 of the property, though the name of Thomas de Longueville was equally honoured amongst them; and the large two handed sword with which he mowed159 the ranks of war was, and is still, preserved among the family muniments. Another account is, that the family name of De Longueville himself was Charteris. The estate afterwards passed to a family of Blairs, and is now the property of Lord Gray.
These barons160 of Kinfauns, from father to son, held, for several generations, the office of Provost of Perth, the vicinity of the castle and town rendering161 it a very convenient arrangement for mutual162 support. The Sir Patrick of this history had more than once led out the men of Perth to battles and skirmishes with the restless Highland100 depredators, and with other enemies, foreign and domestic. True it is, he used sometimes to be weary of the slight and frivolous163 complaints unnecessarily brought before him, and in which he was requested to interest himself. Hence he had sometimes incurred164 the charge of being too proud as a nobleman, or too indolent as a man of wealth, and one who was too much addicted165 to the pleasures of the field and the exercise of feudal hospitality, to bestir himself upon all and every occasion when the Fair Town would have desired his active interference. But, notwithstanding that this occasioned some slight murmuring, the citizens, upon any serious cause of alarm, were wont166 to rally around their provost, and were warmly supported by him both in council and action.
1 conclave | |
n.秘密会议,红衣主教团 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
2 fray | |
v.争吵;打斗;磨损,磨破;n.吵架;打斗 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
3 velvet | |
n.丝绒,天鹅绒;adj.丝绒制的,柔软的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
4 conversed | |
v.交谈,谈话( converse的过去式 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
5 bonnet | |
n.无边女帽;童帽 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
6 maker | |
n.制造者,制造商 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
7 profess | |
v.声称,冒称,以...为业,正式接受入教,表明信仰 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
8 bustling | |
adj.喧闹的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
9 sputters | |
n.喷溅声( sputter的名词复数 );劈啪声;急语;咕哝v.唾沫飞溅( sputter的第三人称单数 );发劈啪声;喷出;飞溅出 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
10 gale | |
n.大风,强风,一阵闹声(尤指笑声等) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
11 stature | |
n.(高度)水平,(高度)境界,身高,身材 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
12 standing | |
n.持续,地位;adj.永久的,不动的,直立的,不流动的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
13 dole | |
n.救济,(失业)救济金;vt.(out)发放,发给 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
14 eyewitness | |
n.目击者,见证人 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
15 modesty | |
n.谦逊,虚心,端庄,稳重,羞怯,朴素 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
17 worthy | |
adj.(of)值得的,配得上的;有价值的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
18 dispersed | |
adj. 被驱散的, 被分散的, 散布的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
19 sundry | |
adj.各式各样的,种种的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
20 guild | |
n.行会,同业公会,协会 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
21 prorogation | |
n.休会,闭会 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
22 civic | |
adj.城市的,都市的,市民的,公民的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
23 shrugs | |
n.耸肩(以表示冷淡,怀疑等)( shrug的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
24 importunate | |
adj.强求的;纠缠不休的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
25 beset | |
v.镶嵌;困扰,包围 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
26 outrage | |
n.暴行,侮辱,愤怒;vt.凌辱,激怒 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
27 embarrassment | |
n.尴尬;使人为难的人(事物);障碍;窘迫 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
28 imputed | |
v.把(错误等)归咎于( impute的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
29 reluctance | |
n.厌恶,讨厌,勉强,不情愿 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
30 feud | |
n.长期不和;世仇;v.长期争斗;世代结仇 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
31 revel | |
vi.狂欢作乐,陶醉;n.作乐,狂欢 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
32 gallant | |
adj.英勇的,豪侠的;(向女人)献殷勤的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
33 mere | |
adj.纯粹的;仅仅,只不过 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
34 harry | |
vt.掠夺,蹂躏,使苦恼 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
35 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: |
|
|
36 opportune | |
adj.合适的,适当的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
37 armour | |
(=armor)n.盔甲;装甲部队 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
38 utterly | |
adv.完全地,绝对地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
39 dealing | |
n.经商方法,待人态度 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
40 screeching | |
v.发出尖叫声( screech的现在分词 );发出粗而刺耳的声音;高叫 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
41 redress | |
n.赔偿,救济,矫正;v.纠正,匡正,革除 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
42 defender | |
n.保卫者,拥护者,辩护人 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
43 meddling | |
v.干涉,干预(他人事务)( meddle的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
44 bonnets | |
n.童帽( bonnet的名词复数 );(烟囱等的)覆盖物;(苏格兰男子的)无边呢帽;(女子戴的)任何一种帽子 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
45 doggedly | |
adv.顽强地,固执地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
46 wrought | |
v.引起;以…原料制作;运转;adj.制造的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
47 anvil | |
n.铁钻 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
48 villains | |
n.恶棍( villain的名词复数 );罪犯;(小说、戏剧等中的)反面人物;淘气鬼 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
49 persevered | |
v.坚忍,坚持( persevere的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
50 interfered | |
v.干预( interfere的过去式和过去分词 );调停;妨碍;干涉 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
51 ominous | |
adj.不祥的,不吉的,预兆的,预示的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
52 countenance | |
n.脸色,面容;面部表情;vt.支持,赞同 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
53 disturbance | |
n.动乱,骚动;打扰,干扰;(身心)失调 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
54 jeopardy | |
n.危险;危难 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
55 beseech | |
v.祈求,恳求 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
56 pretence | |
n.假装,作假;借口,口实;虚伪;虚饰 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
57 unanimity | |
n.全体一致,一致同意 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
58 scoff | |
n.嘲笑,笑柄,愚弄;v.嘲笑,嘲弄,愚弄,狼吞虎咽 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
59 emboldened | |
v.鼓励,使有胆量( embolden的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
60 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: |
|
|
61 countenances | |
n.面容( countenance的名词复数 );表情;镇静;道义支持 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
62 blanched | |
v.使变白( blanch的过去式 );使(植物)不见阳光而变白;酸洗(金属)使有光泽;用沸水烫(杏仁等)以便去皮 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
63 decided | |
adj.决定了的,坚决的;明显的,明确的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
64 nay | |
adv.不;n.反对票,投反对票者 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
65 uncertainty | |
n.易变,靠不住,不确知,不确定的事物 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
66 reiterated | |
反复地说,重申( reiterate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
67 bloody | |
adj.非常的的;流血的;残忍的;adv.很;vt.血染 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
68 murmur | |
n.低语,低声的怨言;v.低语,低声而言 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
69 hush | |
int.嘘,别出声;n.沉默,静寂;v.使安静 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
70 wary | |
adj.谨慎的,机警的,小心的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
71 diminutive | |
adj.小巧可爱的,小的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
72 humility | |
n.谦逊,谦恭 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
73 insignificant | |
adj.无关紧要的,可忽略的,无意义的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
74 leeches | |
n.水蛭( leech的名词复数 );蚂蟥;榨取他人脂膏者;医生 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
75 emollients | |
n.润滑剂,润肤剂( emollient的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
76 blenches | |
vi.(因惊吓而)退缩,惊悸(blench的第三人称单数形式) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
77 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: |
|
|
78 maiden | |
n.少女,处女;adj.未婚的,纯洁的,无经验的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
79 fugitive | |
adj.逃亡的,易逝的;n.逃犯,逃亡者 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
80 innocence | |
n.无罪;天真;无害 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
81 bray | |
n.驴叫声, 喇叭声;v.驴叫 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
82 mortar | |
n.灰浆,灰泥;迫击炮;v.把…用灰浆涂接合 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
83 insinuating | |
adj.曲意巴结的,暗示的v.暗示( insinuate的现在分词 );巧妙或迂回地潜入;(使)缓慢进入;慢慢伸入 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
84 inflame | |
v.使燃烧;使极度激动;使发炎 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
85 complexion | |
n.肤色;情况,局面;气质,性格 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
86 puff | |
n.一口(气);一阵(风);v.喷气,喘气 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
87 vile | |
adj.卑鄙的,可耻的,邪恶的;坏透的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
88 blight | |
n.枯萎病;造成破坏的因素;vt.破坏,摧残 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
89 carrion | |
n.腐肉 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
90 folly | |
n.愚笨,愚蠢,蠢事,蠢行,傻话 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
91 devoutly | |
adv.虔诚地,虔敬地,衷心地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
92 touching | |
adj.动人的,使人感伤的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
93 squeaked | |
v.短促地尖叫( squeak的过去式和过去分词 );吱吱叫;告密;充当告密者 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
94 intervention | |
n.介入,干涉,干预 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
95 disparagement | |
n.轻视,轻蔑 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
96 honourable | |
adj.可敬的;荣誉的,光荣的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
97 orator | |
n.演说者,演讲者,雄辩家 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
98 eldest | |
adj.最年长的,最年老的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
99 hawks | |
鹰( hawk的名词复数 ); 鹰派人物,主战派人物 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
100 highland | |
n.(pl.)高地,山地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
101 frieze | |
n.(墙上的)横饰带,雕带 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
102 peril | |
n.(严重的)危险;危险的事物 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
103 perilous | |
adj.危险的,冒险的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
104 acquiescence | |
n.默许;顺从 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
105 consultation | |
n.咨询;商量;商议;会议 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
106 bellows | |
n.风箱;发出吼叫声,咆哮(尤指因痛苦)( bellow的名词复数 );(愤怒地)说出(某事),大叫v.发出吼叫声,咆哮(尤指因痛苦)( bellow的第三人称单数 );(愤怒地)说出(某事),大叫 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
107 knight | |
n.骑士,武士;爵士 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
108 immunities | |
免除,豁免( immunity的名词复数 ); 免疫力 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
109 audacity | |
n.大胆,卤莽,无礼 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
110 avouch | |
v.确说,断言 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
111 compliant | |
adj.服从的,顺从的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
112 privy | |
adj.私用的;隐密的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
113 chambers | |
n.房间( chamber的名词复数 );(议会的)议院;卧室;会议厅 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
114 nags | |
n.不断地挑剔或批评(某人)( nag的名词复数 );不断地烦扰或伤害(某人);无休止地抱怨;不断指责v.不断地挑剔或批评(某人)( nag的第三人称单数 );不断地烦扰或伤害(某人);无休止地抱怨;不断指责 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
115 circuitously | |
曲折地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
116 feudal | |
adj.封建的,封地的,领地的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
117 magistrate | |
n.地方行政官,地方法官,治安官 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
118 preeminent | |
adj.卓越的,杰出的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
119 baron | |
n.男爵;(商业界等)巨头,大王 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
120 militia | |
n.民兵,民兵组织 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
121 gratuitous | |
adj.无偿的,免费的;无缘无故的,不必要的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
122 tenements | |
n.房屋,住户,租房子( tenement的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
123 benevolence | |
n.慈悲,捐助 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
124 scruple | |
n./v.顾忌,迟疑 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
125 knightly | |
adj. 骑士般的 adv. 骑士般地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
126 distinguished | |
adj.卓越的,杰出的,著名的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
127 picturesque | |
adj.美丽如画的,(语言)生动的,绘声绘色的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
128 chivalrous | |
adj.武士精神的;对女人彬彬有礼的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
129 celebrated | |
adj.有名的,声誉卓著的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
130 patriot | |
n.爱国者,爱国主义者 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
131 invaders | |
入侵者,侵略者,侵入物( invader的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
132 monarch | |
n.帝王,君主,最高统治者 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
133 auxiliary | |
adj.辅助的,备用的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
134 regaining | |
复得( regain的现在分词 ); 赢回; 重回; 复至某地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
135 vessel | |
n.船舶;容器,器皿;管,导管,血管 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
136 steer | |
vt.驾驶,为…操舵;引导;vi.驾驶 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
137 steering | |
n.操舵装置 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
138 mariners | |
海员,水手(mariner的复数形式) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
139 apprehension | |
n.理解,领悟;逮捕,拘捕;忧虑 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
140 piracies | |
n.海上抢劫( piracy的名词复数 );盗版行为,非法复制 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
141 plundered | |
掠夺,抢劫( plunder的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
142 vessels | |
n.血管( vessel的名词复数 );船;容器;(具有特殊品质或接受特殊品质的)人 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
143 dominion | |
n.统治,管辖,支配权;领土,版图 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
144 hardy | |
adj.勇敢的,果断的,吃苦的;耐寒的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
145 followers | |
追随者( follower的名词复数 ); 用户; 契据的附面; 从动件 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
146 hoisted | |
把…吊起,升起( hoist的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
147 strife | |
n.争吵,冲突,倾轧,竞争 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
148 gushed | |
v.喷,涌( gush的过去式和过去分词 );滔滔不绝地说话 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
149 severely | |
adv.严格地;严厉地;非常恶劣地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
150 pillage | |
v.抢劫;掠夺;n.抢劫,掠夺;掠夺物 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
151 falcon | |
n.隼,猎鹰 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
152 prey | |
n.被掠食者,牺牲者,掠食;v.捕食,掠夺,折磨 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
153 conqueror | |
n.征服者,胜利者 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
154 bestowing | |
砖窑中砖堆上层已烧透的砖 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
155 domains | |
n.范围( domain的名词复数 );领域;版图;地产 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
156 annexed | |
[法] 附加的,附属的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
157 maternal | |
adj.母亲的,母亲般的,母系的,母方的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
158 proprietors | |
n.所有人,业主( proprietor的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
159 mowed | |
v.刈,割( mow的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
160 barons | |
男爵( baron的名词复数 ); 巨头; 大王; 大亨 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
161 rendering | |
n.表现,描写 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
162 mutual | |
adj.相互的,彼此的;共同的,共有的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
163 frivolous | |
adj.轻薄的;轻率的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
164 incurred | |
[医]招致的,遭受的; incur的过去式 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
165 addicted | |
adj.沉溺于....的,对...上瘾的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
166 wont | |
adj.习惯于;v.习惯;n.习惯 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
欢迎访问英文小说网 |