In winter’s tedious nights, sit by the fire,
With good old folks, and let them tell thee tales
Of woeful ages, long ago betid:
And, ere thou bid goodnight, to quit their grief,
Tell thou the lamentable1 fall of me.
King Richard II Act V. Scene I.
Far different had been the fate of the misguided heir of Scotland from that which was publicly given out in the town of Falkland. His ambitious uncle had determined2 on his death, as the means of removing the first and most formidable barrier betwixt his own family and the throne. James, the younger son of the King, was a mere3 boy, who might at more leisure be easily set aside. Ramorny’s views of aggrandisement, and the resentment4 which he had latterly entertained against his masters made him a willing agent in young Rothsay’s destruction. Dwining’s love of gold, and his native malignity5 of disposition6, rendered him equally forward. It had been resolved, with the most calculating cruelty, that all means which might leave behind marks of violence were to be carefully avoided, and the extinction9 of life suffered to take place of itself by privation of every kind acting10 upon a frail11 and impaired12 constitution. The Prince of Scotland was not to be murdered, as Ramorny had expressed himself on another occasion, he was only to cease to exist. Rothsay’s bedchamber in the Tower of Falkland was well adapted for the execution of such a horrible project. A small, narrow staircase, scarce known to exist, opened from thence by a trapdoor to the subterranean14 dungeons16 of the castle, through a passage by which the feudal18 lord was wont19 to visit, in private and in disguise, the inhabitants of those miserable20 regions. By this staircase the villains21 conveyed the insensible Prince to the lowest dungeon15 of the castle, so deep in the bowels23 of the earth, that no cries or groans24, it was supposed, could possibly be heard, while the strength of its door and fastenings must for a long time have defied force, even if the entrance could have been discovered. Bonthron, who had been saved from the gallows25 for the purpose, was the willing agent of Ramorny’s unparalleled cruelty to his misled and betrayed patron.
This wretch26 revisited the dungeon at the time when the Prince’s lethargy began to wear off, and when, awaking to sensation, he felt himself deadly cold, unable to move, and oppressed with fetters27, which scarce permitted him to stir from the dank straw on which he was laid. His first idea was that he was in a fearful dream, his next brought a confused augury28 of the truth. He called, shouted, yelled at length in frenzy29 but no assistance came, and he was only answered by the vaulted30 roof of the dungeon. The agent of hell heard these agonizing32 screams, and deliberately33 reckoned them against the taunts34 and reproaches with which Rothsay had expressed his instinctive35 aversion to him. When, exhausted36 and hopeless, the unhappy youth remained silent, the savage37 resolved to present himself before the eyes of his prisoner. The locks were drawn38, the chain fell; the Prince raised himself as high as his fetters permitted; a red glare, against which he was fain to shut his eyes, streamed through the vault31; and when he opened them again, it was on the ghastly form of one whom he had reason to think dead. He sunk back in horror.
“I am judged and condemned,” he exclaimed, “and the most abhorred39 fiend in the infernal regions is sent to torment40 me!”
“I live, my lord,” said Bonthron; “and that you may live and enjoy life, be pleased to sit up and eat your victuals41.”
“Free me from these irons,” said the Prince, “release me from this dungeon, and, dog as thou art, thou shalt be the richest man in Scotland.”
“If you would give me the weight of your shackles42 in gold,” said Bonthron, “I would rather see the iron on you than have the treasure myself! But look up; you were wont to love delicate fare — behold43 how I have catered44 for you.”
The wretch, with fiendish glee, unfolded a piece of rawhide45 covering the bundle which he bore under’ his arm, and, passing the light to and fro before it, showed the unhappy Prince a bull’s head recently hewn from the trunk, and known in Scotland as the certain signal of death. He placed it at the foot of the bed, or rather lair46, on which the Prince lay.
“Be moderate in your food,” he said; “it is like to be long ere thou getst another meal.”
“Tell me but one thing, wretch,” said the Prince. “Does Ramorny know of this practice?”
“How else hadst thou been decoyed hither? Poor woodcock, thou art snared47!” answered the murderer.
With these words, the door shut, the bolts resounded48, and the unhappy Prince was left to darkness, solitude49, and misery50. “Oh, my father!— my prophetic father! The staff I leaned on has indeed proved a spear!”
We will not dwell on the subsequent hours, nay51, days, of bodily agony and mental despair.
But it was not the pleasure of Heaven that so great a crime should be perpetrated with impunity52.
Catharine Glover and the glee woman, neglected by the other inmates53, who seemed to be engaged with the tidings of the Prince’s illness, were, however, refused permission to leave the castle until it should be seen how this alarming disease was to terminate, and whether it was actually an infectious sickness. Forced on each other’s society, the two desolate54 women became companions, if not friends; and the union drew somewhat closer when Catharine discovered that this was the same female minstrel on whose account Henry Wynd had fallen under her displeasure. She now heard his complete vindication55, and listened with ardour to the praises which Louise heaped on her gallant56 protector. On the other hand, the minstrel, who felt the superiority of Catharine’s station and character, willingly dwelt upon a theme which seemed to please her, and recorded her gratitude58 to the stout59 smith in the little song of “Bold and True,” which was long a favourite in Scotland.
Oh, bold and true,
That fear or falsehood never knew,
Whose heart was loyal to his word,
Whose hand was faithful to his sword —
Seek Europe wide from sea to sea,
But bonny blue cap still for me!
I’ve seen Almain’s proud champions prance61,
Have seen the gallant knights62 of France,
Unrivall’d with the sword and lance,
Have seen the sons of England true,
Wield64 the brown bill and bend the yew65.
Search France the fair, and England free,
But bonny blue cap still for me!
In short, though Louise’s disreputable occupation would have been in other circumstances an objection to Catharine’s voluntarily frequenting her company, yet, forced together as they now were, she found her a humble66 and accommodating companion.
They lived in this manner for four or five days, and, in order to avoid as much as possible the gaze, and perhaps the incivility, of the menials in the offices, they prepared their food in their own apartment. In the absolutely necessary intercourse68 with domestics, Louise, more accustomed to expedients69, bolder by habit, and desirous to please Catharine, willingly took on herself the trouble of getting from the pantler the materials of their slender meal, and of arranging it with the dexterity70 of her country.
The glee woman had been abroad for this purpose upon the sixth day, a little before noon; and the desire of fresh air, or the hope to find some sallad or pot herbs, or at least an early flower or two, with which to deck their board, had carried her into the small garden appertaining to the castle. She re-entered her apartment in the tower with a countenance71 pale as ashes, and a frame which trembled like an aspen leaf. Her terror instantly extended itself to Catharine, who could hardly find words to ask what new misfortune had occurred.
“Is the Duke of Rothsay dead?”
“Worse! they are starving him alive.”
“Madness, woman!”
“No — no — no — no!” said Louise, speaking under her breath, and huddling72 her words so thick upon each other that Catharine could hardly catch the sense. “I was seeking for flowers to dress your pottage, because you said you loved them yesterday; my poor little dog, thrusting himself into a thicket73 of yew and holly74 bushes that grow out of some old ruins close to the castle wall, came back whining75 and howling. I crept forward to see what might be the cause — and, oh! I heard a groaning76 as of one in extreme pain, but so faint, that it seemed to arise out of the very depth of the earth. At length, I found it proceeded from a small rent in the wall, covered with ivy77; and when I laid my ear close to the opening, I could hear the Prince’s voice distinctly say, ‘It cannot now last long’— and then it sunk away in something like a prayer.”
“Gracious Heaven! did you speak to him?”
“I said, ‘Is it you, my lord?’ and the answer was, ‘Who mocks me with that title?’ I asked him if I could help him, and he answered with a voice I shall never forget, ‘Food — food! I die of famine!’ So I came hither to tell you. What is to be done? Shall we alarm the house?”
“Alas! that were more likely to destroy than to aid,” said Catharine.
“And what then shall we do?” said Louise.
“I know not yet,” said Catharine, prompt and bold on occasions of moment, though yielding to her companion in ingenuity78 of resource on ordinary occasions: “I know not yet, but something we will do: the blood of Bruce shall not die unaided.”
So saying, she seized the small cruise which contained their soup, and the meat of which it was made, wrapped some thin cakes which she had baked into the fold of her plaid, and, beckoning79 her companion to follow with a vessel80 of milk, also part of their provisions, she hastened towards the garden.
“So, our fair vestal is stirring abroad?” said the only man she met, who was one of the menials; but Catharine passed on without notice or reply, and gained the little garden without farther interruption.
Louise indicated to her a heap of ruins, which, covered with underwood, was close to the castle wall. It had probably been originally a projection81 from the building; and the small fissure82, which communicated with the dungeon, contrived83 for air, had terminated within it. But the aperture84 had been a little enlarged by decay, and admitted a dim ray of light to its recesses85, although it could not be observed by those who visited the place with torchlight aids.
“Here is dead silence,” said Catharine, after she had listened attentively86 for a moment. “Heaven and earth, he is gone!”
“We must risk something,” said her companion, and ran her fingers over the strings87 of her guitar.
A sigh was the only answer from the depth of the dungeon. Catharine then ventured to speak. “I am here, my lord — I am here, with food and drink.”
“Ha! Ramorny! The jest comes too late; I am dying,” was the answer.
“His brain is turned, and no wonder,” thought Catharine; “but whilst there is life, there may be hope.”
“It is I, my lord, Catharine Glover. I have food, if I could pass it safely to you.”
“Heaven bless thee, maiden88! I thought the pain was over, but it glows again within me at the name of food.”
“The food is here, but how — ah, how can I pass it to you? the chink is so narrow, the wall is so thick! Yet there is a remedy — I have it. Quick, Louise; cut me a willow89 bough90, the tallest you can find.”
The glee maiden obeyed, and, by means of a cleft91 in the top of the wand, Catharine transmitted several morsels93 of the soft cakes, soaked in broth94, which served at once for food and for drink.
The unfortunate young man ate little, and with difficulty, but prayed for a thousand blessings95 on the head of his comforter. “I had destined96 thee to be the slave of my vices97,” he said, “and yet thou triest to become the preserver of my life! But away, and save thyself.”
“I will return with food as I shall see opportunity,” said Catharine, just as the glee maiden plucked her sleeve and desired her to be silent and stand close.
Both crouched98 among the ruins, and they heard the voices of Ramorny and the mediciner in close conversation.
“He is stronger than I thought,” said the former, in a low, croaking99 tone. “How long held out Dalwolsy, when the knight63 of Liddesdale prisoned him in his castle of Hermitage?”
“For a fortnight,” answered Dwining; “but he was a strong man, and had some assistance by grain which fell from a granary above his prison house.”
“Were it not better end the matter more speedily? The Black Douglas comes this way. He is not in Albany’s secret. He will demand to see the Prince, and all must be over ere he comes.”
They passed on in their dark and fatal conversation.
“Now gain we the tower,” said Catharine to her companion, when she saw they had left the garden. “I had a plan of escape for myself; I will turn it into one of rescue for the Prince. The dey woman enters the castle about vesper time, and usually leaves her cloak in the passage as she goes into the pantlers’ office with the milk. Take thou the cloak, muffle100 thyself close, and pass the warder boldly; he is usually drunken at that hour, and thou wilt101 go as the dey woman unchallenged through gate and along bridge, if thou bear thyself with confidence. Then away to meet the Black Douglas; he is our nearest and only aid.”
“But,” said Louise, “is he not that terrible lord who threatened me with shame and punishment?”
“Believe it,” said Catharine, “such as thou or I never dwelt an hour in the Douglas’s memory, either for good or evil. Tell him that his son in law, the Prince of Scotland dies — treacherously102 famished103 — in Falkland Castle, and thou wilt merit not pardon only, but reward.”
“I care not for reward,” said Louise; “the deed will reward itself. But methinks to stay is more dangerous than to go. Let me stay, then, and nourish the unhappy Prince, and do you depart to bring help. If they kill me before you return, I leave you my poor lute67, and pray you to be kind to my poor Charlot.”
“No, Louise,” replied Catharine, “you are a more privileged and experienced wanderer than I— do you go; and if you find me dead on your return, as may well chance, give my poor father this ring and a lock of my hair, and say, Catharine died in endeavouring to save the blood of Bruce. And give this other lock to Henry; say, Catharine thought of him to the last, and that, if he has judged her too scrupulous104 touching105 the blood of others, he will then know it was not because she valued her own.”
They sobbed106 in each other’s arms, and the intervening hours till evening were spent in endeavouring to devise some better mode of supplying the captive with nourishment107, and in the construction of a tube, composed of hollow reeds, slipping into each other, by which liquids might be conveyed to him. The bell of the village church of Falkland tolled108 to vespers. The dey, or farm woman, entered with her pitchers109 to deliver the milk for the family, and to hear and tell the news stirring. She had scarcely entered the kitchen when the female minstrel, again throwing herself in Catharine’s arms, and assuring her of her unalterable fidelity110, crept in silence downstairs, the little dog under her arm. A moment after, she was seen by the breathless Catharine, wrapt in the dey woman’s cloak, and walking composedly across the drawbridge.
“So,” said the warder, “you return early tonight, May Bridget? Small mirth towards in the hall — ha, wench! Sick times are sad times!”
“I have forgotten my tallies,” said the ready witted French woman, “and will return in the skimming of a bowie.”
She went onward111, avoiding the village of Falkland, and took a footpath112 which led through the park. Catharine breathed freely, and blessed God when she saw her lost in the distance. It was another anxious hour for Catharine which occurred before the escape of the fugitive113 was discovered. This happened so soon as the dey girl, having taken an hour to perform a task which ten minutes might have accomplished114, was about to return, and discovered that some one had taken away her grey frieze115 cloak. A strict search was set on foot; at length the women of the house remembered the glee maiden, and ventured to suggest her as one not unlikely to exchange an old cloak for a new one. The warder, strictly116 questioned, averred117 he saw the dey woman depart immediately after vespers; and on this being contradicted by the party herself, he could suggest, as the only alternative, that it must needs have been the devil.
As, however, the glee woman could not be found, the real circumstances of the case were easily guessed at; and the steward118 went to inform Sir John Ramorny and Dwining, who were now scarcely ever separate, of the escape of one of their female captives. Everything awakens119 the suspicions of the guilty. They looked on each other with faces of dismay, and then went together to the humble apartment of Catharine, that they might take her as much as possible by surprise while they inquired into the facts attending Louise’s disappearance121.
“Where is your companion, young woman?” said Ramorny, in a tone of austere122 gravity.
“I have no companion here,” answered Catharine.
“Trifle not,” replied the knight; “I mean the glee maiden, who lately dwelt in this chamber13 with you.”
“She is gone, they tell me,” said Catharine —“gone about an hour since.”
“And whither?” said Dwining.
“How,” answered Catharine, “should I know which way a professed123 wanderer may choose to travel? She was tired no doubt of a solitary124 life, so different from the scenes of feasting and dancing which her trade leads her to frequent. She is gone, and the only wonder is that she should have stayed so long.”
“This, then,” said Ramorny, “is all you have to tell us?”
“All that I have to tell you, Sir John,” answered Catharine, firmly; “and if the Prince himself inquire, I can tell him no more.”
“There is little danger of his again doing you the honour to speak to you in person,” said Ramorny, “even if Scotland should escape being rendered miserable by the sad event of his decease.”
“Is the Duke of Rothsay so very ill?” asked Catharine.
“No help, save in Heaven,” answered Ramorny, looking upward.
“Then may there yet be help there,” said Catharine. “if human aid prove unavailing!”
“Amen!” said Ramorny, with the most determined gravity; while Dwining adopted a face fit to echo the feeling, though it seemed to cost him a painful struggle to suppress his sneering125 yet soft laugh of triumph, which was peculiarly excited by anything having a religious tendency.
“And it is men — earthly men, and not incarnate127 devils, who thus appeal to Heaven, while they are devouring128 by inches the life blood of their hapless master!” muttered Catharine, as her two baffled inquisitors left the apartment. “Why sleeps the thunder? But it will roll ere long, and oh! may it be to preserve as well as to punish!”
The hour of dinner alone afforded a space when, all in the castle being occupied with that meal, Catharine thought she had the best opportunity of venturing to the breach129 in the wall, with the least chance of being observed. In waiting for the hour, she observed some stir in the castle, which had been silent as the grave ever since the seclusion130 of the Duke of Rothsay. The portcullis was lowered and raised, and the creaking of the machinery131 was intermingled with the tramp of horse, as men at arms went out and returned with steeds hard ridden and covered with foam132. She observed, too, that such domestics as she casually133 saw from her window were in arms. All this made her heart throb134 high, for it augured135 the approach of rescue; and besides, the bustle136 left the little garden more lonely than ever. At length the hour of noon arrived; she had taken care to provide, under pretence137 of her own wishes, which the pantler seemed disposed to indulge, such articles of food as could be the most easily conveyed to the unhappy captive. She whispered to intimate her presence; there was no answer; she spoke138 louder, still there was silence.
“He sleeps,” she muttered these words half aloud, and with a shuddering139 which was succeeded by a start and a scream, when a voice replied behind her:
“Yes, he sleeps; but it is for ever.”
She looked round. Sir John Ramorny stood behind her in complete armour140, but the visor of his helmet was up, and displayed a countenance more resembling one about to die than to fight. He spoke with a grave tone, something between that of a calm observer of an interesting event and of one who is an agent and partaker in it.
“Catharine,” he said, “all is true which I tell you. He is dead. You have done your best for him; you can do no more.”
“I will not — I cannot believe it,” said Catharine. “Heaven be merciful to me! it would make one doubt of Providence141, to think so great a crime has been accomplished.”
“Doubt not of Providence, Catharine, though it has suffered the profligate142 to fall by his own devices. Follow me; I have that to say which concerns you. I say follow (for she hesitated), unless you prefer being left to the mercies of the brute143 Bonthron and the mediciner Henbane Dwining.”
“I will follow you,” said Catharine. “You cannot do more to me than you are permitted.”
He led the way into the tower, and mounted staircase after staircase and ladder after ladder.
Catharine’s resolution failed her. “I will follow no farther,” she said. “Whither would you lead me? If to my death, I can die here.”
“Only to the battlements of the castle, fool,” said Ramorny, throwing wide a barred door which opened upon the vaulted roof of the castle, where men were bending mangonels, as they called them (military engines, that is, for throwing arrows or stones), getting ready crossbows, and piling stones together. But the defenders144 did not exceed twenty in number, and Catharine thought she could observe doubt and irresolution145 amongst them.
“Catharine,” said Ramorny, “I must not quit this station, which is necessary for my defence; but I can speak with you here as well as elsewhere.”
“Say on,” answered Catharine, “I am prepared to hear you.”
“You have thrust yourself, Catharine, into a bloody146 secret. Have you the firmness to keep it?”
“I do not understand you, Sir John,” answered the maiden.
“Look you. I have slain147 — murdered, if you will — my late master, the Duke of Rothsay. The spark of life which your kindness would have fed was easily smothered148. His last words called on his father. You are faint — bear up — you have more to hear. You know the crime, but you know not the provocation149. See! this gauntlet is empty; I lost my right hand in his cause, and when I was no longer fit to serve him, I was cast off like a worn out hound, my loss ridiculed150, and a cloister151 recommended, instead of the halls and palaces in which I had my natural sphere! Think on this — pity and assist me.”
“In what manner can you require my assistance?” said the trembling maiden; “I can neither repair your loss nor cancel your crime.”
“Thou canst be silent, Catharine, on what thou hast seen and heard in yonder thicket. It is but a brief oblivion I ask of you, whose word will, I know, be listened to, whether you say such things were or were not. That of your mountebank152 companion, the foreigner, none will hold to be of a pin point’s value. If you grant me this, I will take your promise for my security, and throw the gate open to those who now approach it. If you will not promise silence, I defend this castle till every one perishes, and I fling you headlong from these battlements. Ay, look at them — it is not a leap to be rashly braved. Seven courses of stairs brought you up hither with fatigue153 and shortened breath; but you shall go from the top to the bottom in briefer time than you can breathe a sigh! Speak the word, fair maid; for you speak to one unwilling154 to harm you, but determined in his purpose.”
Catharine stood terrified, and without power of answering a man who seemed so desperate; but she was saved the necessity of reply by the approach of Dwining. He spoke with the same humble conges which at all times distinguished155 his manner, and with his usual suppressed ironical156 sneer126, which gave that manner the lie.
“I do you wrong, noble sir, to intrude157 on your valiancie when engaged with a fair damsel. But I come to ask a trifling158 question.”
“Speak, tormentor159!” said Ramorny; “ill news are sport to thee even when they affect thyself, so that they concern others also.”
“Hem!— he, he!— I only desired to know if your knighthood proposed the chivalrous160 task of defending the castle with your single hand — I crave161 pardon, I meant your single arm? The question is worth asking, for I am good for little to aid the defence, unless you could prevail on the besiegers to take physic — he, he, he!— and Bonthron is as drunk as ale and strong waters can make him; and you, he, and I make up the whole garrison162 who are disposed for resistance.”
“How! Will the other dogs not fight?” said Ramorny.
“Never saw men who showed less stomach to the work,” answered Dwining —“never. But here come a brace163 of them. Venit extrema dies. He, he, he!”
Eviot and his companion Buncle now approached, with sullen164 resolution in their faces, like men who had made their minds up to resist that authority which they had so long obeyed.
“How now!” said Ramorny, stepping forward to meet them. “Wherefore from your posts? Why have you left the barbican, Eviot? And you other fellow, did I not charge you to look to the mangonels?”
“We have something to tell you, Sir John Ramorny,” answered Eviot. “We will not fight in this quarrel.”
“How — my own squires165 control me?” exclaimed Ramorny.
“We were your squires and pages, my lord, while you were master of the Duke of Rothsay’s household. It is bruited166 about the Duke no longer lives; we desire to know the truth.”
“What traitor167 dares spread such falsehoods?” said Ramorny.
“All who have gone out to skirt the forest, my lord, and I myself among others, bring back the same news. The minstrel woman who left the castle yesterday has spread the report everywhere that the Duke of Rothsay is murdered, or at death’s door. The Douglas comes on us with a strong force —”
“And you, cowards, take advantage of an idle report to forsake168 your master?” said Ramorny, indignantly.
“My lord,” said Eviot, “let Buncle and myself see the Duke of Rothsay, and receive his personal orders for defence of this castle, and if we do not fight to the death in that quarrel, I will consent to be hanged on its highest turret169. But if he be gone by natural disease, we will yield up the castle to the Earl of Douglas, who is, they say, the King’s lieutenant170. Or if — which Heaven forefend!— the noble Prince has had foul171 play, we will not involve ourselves in the guilt120 of using arms in defence of the murderers, be they who they will.”
“Eviot,” said Ramorny, raising his mutilated arm, “had not that glove been empty, thou hadst not lived to utter two words of this insolence172.”
“It is as it is,” answered Evict173, “and we do but our duty. I have followed you long, my lord, but here I draw bridle174.”
“Farewell, then, and a curse light on all of you!” exclaimed the incensed175 baron176. “Let my horse be brought forth177!”
“Our valiancie is about to run away,” said the mediciner, who had crept close to Catharine’s side before she was aware. “Catharine, thou art a superstitious178 fool, like most women; nevertheless thou hast some mind, and I speak to thee as one of more understanding than the buffaloes180 which are herding181 about us. These haughty182 barons183 who overstride the world, what are they in the day of adversity? Chaff184 before the wind. Let their sledge185 hammer hands or their column resembling legs have injury, and bah! the men at arms are gone. Heart and courage is nothing to them, lith and limb everything: give them animal strength, what are they better than furious bulls; take that away, and your hero of chivalry186 lies grovelling187 like the brute when he is hamstrung. Not so the sage17; while a grain of sense remains188 in a crushed or mutilated frame, his mind shall be strong as ever. Catharine, this morning I was practising your death; but methinks I now rejoice that you may survive to tell how the poor mediciner, the pill gilder189, the mortar190 pounder, the poison vender191, met his fate, in company with the gallant Knight of Ramorny, Baron in possession and Earl of Lindores in expectation — God save his lordship!”
“Old man,” said Catharine, “if thou be indeed so near the day of thy deserved doom192, other thoughts were far wholesomer than the vainglorious193 ravings of a vain philosophy. Ask to see a holy man —”
“Yes,” said Dwining, scornfully, “refer myself to a greasy194 monk195, who does not — he! he! he!— understand the barbarous Latin he repeats by rote57. Such would be a fitting counsellor to one who has studied both in Spain and Arabia! No, Catharine, I will choose a confessor that is pleasant to look upon, and you shall be honoured with the office. Now, look yonder at his valiancie, his eyebrow196 drops with moisture, his lip trembles with agony; for his valiancie — he! he! he!— is pleading for his life with his late domestics, and has not eloquence197 enough to persuade them to let him slip. See how the fibres of his face work as he implores198 the ungrateful brutes199, whom he has heaped with obligations, to permit him to get such a start for his life as the hare has from the greyhounds when men course her fairly. Look also at the sullen, downcast, dogged faces with which, fluctuating between fear and shame, the domestic traitors200 deny their lord this poor chance for his life. These things thought themselves the superior of a man like me! and you, foolish wench, think so meanly of your Deity201 as to suppose wretches202 like them are the work of Omnipotence203!”
“No! man of evil — no!” said Catharine, warmly; “the God I worship created these men with the attributes to know and adore Him, to guard and defend their fellow creatures, to practise holiness and virtue204. Their own vices, and the temptations of the Evil One, have made them such as they now are. Oh, take the lesson home to thine own heart of adamant205! Heaven made thee wiser than thy fellows, gave thee eyes to look into the secrets of nature, a sagacious heart, and a skilful206 hand; but thy pride has poisoned all these fair gifts, and made an ungodly atheist207 of one who might have been a Christian208 sage!”
“Atheist, say’st thou?” answered Dwining. “Perhaps I have doubts on that matter — but they will be soon solved. Yonder comes one who will send me, as he has done thousands, to the place where all mysteries shall be cleared.”
Catharine followed the mediciner’s eye up one of the forest glades209, and beheld210 it occupied by a body of horsemen advancing at full gallop211. In the midst was a pennon displayed, which, though its bearings were not visible to Catharine, was, by a murmur212 around, acknowledged as that of the Black Douglas. They halted within arrow shot of the castle, and a herald213 with two trumpets214 advanced up to the main portal, where, after a loud flourish, he demanded admittance for the high and dreaded215 Archibald Earl of Douglas, Lord Lieutenant of the King, and acting for the time with the plenary authority of his Majesty216; commanding, at the same time, that the inmates of the castle should lay down their arms, all under penalty of high treason.
“You hear?” said Eviot to Ramorny, who stood sullen and undecided. “Will you give orders to render the castle, or must I?”
“No, villain22!” interrupted the knight, “to the last I will command you. Open the gates, drop the bridge, and render the castle to the Douglas.”
“Now, that’s what may be called a gallant exertion217 of free will,” said Dwining. “Just as if the pieces of brass218 that were screaming a minute since should pretend to call those notes their own which are breathed through them by a frowsy trumpeter.”
“Wretched man!” said Catharine, “either be silent or turn thy thoughts to the eternity219 on the brink220 of which thou art standing179.”
“And what is that to thee?” answered Dwining. “Thou canst not, wench, help hearing what I say to thee, and thou wilt tell it again, for thy sex cannot help that either. Perth and all Scotland shall know what a man they have lost in Henbane Dwining!”
The clash of armour now announced that the newcomers had dismounted and entered the castle, and were in the act of disarming221 the small garrison. Earl Douglas himself appeared on the battlements, with a few of his followers222, and signed to them to take Ramorny and Dwining into custody223. Others dragged from some nook the stupefied Bonthron.
“It was to these three that the custody of the Prince was solely224 committed daring his alleged225 illness?” said the Douglas, prosecuting226 an inquiry227 which he had commenced in the hall of the castle.
“No other saw him, my lord,” said Eviot, “though I offered my services.”
“Conduct us to the Duke’s apartment, and bring the prisoners with us. Also should there be a female in the castle, if she hath not been murdered or spirited away — the companion of the glee maiden who brought the first alarm.”
“She is here, my lord,” said Eviot, bringing Catharine forward.
Her beauty and her agitation228 made some impression even upon the impassible Earl.
“Fear nothing, maiden,” he said; “thou hast deserved both praise and reward. Tell to me, as thou wouldst confess to Heaven, the things thou hast witnessed in this castle.”
Few words served Catharine to unfold the dreadful story.
“It agrees,” said the Douglas, “with the tale of the glee maiden, from point to point. Now show us the Prince’s apartment.”
They passed to the room which the unhappy Duke of Rothsay had been supposed to inhabit; but the key was not to be found, and the Earl could only obtain entrance by forcing the door. On entering, the wasted and squalid remains of the unhappy Prince were discovered, flung on the bed as if in haste. The intention of the murderers had apparently229 been to arrange the dead body so as to resemble a timely parted corpse230, but they had been disconcerted by the alarm occasioned by the escape of Louise. Douglas looked on the body of the misguided youth, whose wild passions and caprices had brought him to this fatal and premature231 catastrophe232.
“I had wrongs to be redressed,” he said; “but to see such a sight as this banishes233 all remembrance of injury!”
“He! he! It should have been arranged,” said Dwining, “more to your omnipotence’s pleasure; but you came suddenly on us, and hasty masters make slovenly234 service.”
Douglas seemed not to hear what his prisoner said, so closely did he examine the wan92 and wasted features, and stiffened235 limbs, of the dead body before him. Catharine, overcome by sickness and fainting, at length obtained permission to retire from the dreadful scene, and, through confusion of every description, found her way to her former apartment, where she was locked in the arms of Louise, who had returned in the interval236.
The investigations237 of Douglas proceeded. The dying hand of the Prince was found to be clenched238 upon a lock of hair, resembling, in colour and texture239, the coal black bristles240 of Bonthron. Thus, though famine had begun the work, it would seem that Rothsay’s death had been finally accomplished by violence. The private stair to the dungeon, the keys of which were found at the subaltern assassin’s belt, the situation of the vault, its communication with the external air by the fissure in the walls, and the wretched lair of straw, with the fetters which remained there, fully8 confirmed the story of Catharine and of the glee woman.
“We will not hesitate an instant,” said the Douglas to his near kinsman241, the Lord Balveny, as soon as they returned from the dungeon. “Away with the murderers! hang them over the battlements.”
“But, my lord, some trial may be fitting,” answered Balveny.
“To what purpose?” answered, Douglas. “I have taken them red hand; my authority will stretch to instant execution. Yet stay — have we not some Jedwood men in our troop?”
“Plenty of Turnbulls, Rutherfords, Ainslies, and so forth,” said Balveny.
“Call me an inquest of these together; they are all good men and true, saving a little shifting for their living. Do yon see to the execution of these felons242, while I hold a court in the great hall, and we’ll try whether the jury or the provost marshal do their work first; we will have Jedwood justice — hang in haste and try at leisure.”
“Yet stay, my lord,” said Ramorny, “you may rue7 your haste — will you grant me a word out of earshot?”
“Not for worlds!” said Douglas; “speak out what thou hast to say before all that are here present.”
“Know all; then,” said Ramorny, aloud, “that this noble Earl had letters from the Duke of Albany and myself, sent him by the hand of yon cowardly deserter, Buncle — let him deny it if he dare — counselling the removal of the Duke for a space from court, and his seclusion in this Castle of Falkland.”
“But not a word,” replied Douglas, sternly smiling, “of his being flung into a dungeon — famished — strangled. Away with the wretches, Balveny, they pollute God’s air too long!”
The prisoners were dragged off to the battlements. But while the means of execution were in the act of being prepared, the apothecary243 expressed so ardent244 a desire to see Catharine once more, and, as he said, for the good of his soul, that the maiden, in hopes his obduracy245 might have undergone some change even at the last hour, consented again to go to the battlements, and face a scene which her heart recoiled246 from. A single glance showed her Bonthron, sunk in total and drunken insensibility; Ramorny, stripped of his armour, endeavouring in vain to conceal247 fear, while he spoke with a priest, whose good offices he had solicited248; and Dwining, the same humble, obsequious249 looking, crouching250 individual she had always known him. He held in his hand a little silver pen, with which he had been writing on a scrap251 of parchment.
“Catharine,” he said —“he, he, he!— I wish to speak to thee on the nature of my religious faith.”
“If such be thy intention, why lose time with me? Speak with this good father.”
“The good father,” said Dwining, “is — he, he!— already a worshipper of the deity whom I have served. I therefore prefer to give the altar of mine idol252 a new worshipper in thee, Catharine. This scrap of parchment will tell thee how to make your way into my chapel253, where I have worshipped so often in safety. I leave the images which it contains to thee as a legacy254, simply because I hate and contemn255 thee something less than any of the absurd wretches whom I have hitherto been obliged to call fellow creatures. And now away — or remain and see if the end of the quacksalver belies256 his life.”
“Our Lady forbid!” said Catharine.
“Nay,” said the mediciner, “I have but a single word to say, and yonder nobleman’s valiancie may hear it if he will.”
Lord Balveny approached, with some curiosity; for the undaunted resolution of a man who never wielded257 sword or bore armour and was in person a poor dwindled258 dwarf259, had to him an air of something resembling sorcery.”
“You see this trifling implement,” said the criminal, showing the silver pen. “By means of this I can escape the power even of the Black Douglas.”
“Give him no ink nor paper,” said Balveny, hastily, “he will draw a spell.”
“Not so, please your wisdom and valiancie — he, he, he!” said Dwining with his usual chuckle260, as he unscrewed the top of the pen, within which was a piece of sponge or some such substance, no bigger than a pea.
“Now, mark this —” said the prisoner, and drew it between his lips. The effect was instantaneous. He lay a dead corpse before them, the contemptuous sneer still on his countenance.
Catharine shrieked261 and fled, seeking, by a hasty descent, an escape from a sight so appalling262. Lord Balveny was for a moment stupified, and then exclaimed, “This may be glamour263! hang him over the battlements, quick or dead. If his foul spirit hath only withdrawn264 for a space, it shall return to a body with a dislocated neck.”
His commands were obeyed. Ramorny and Bonthron were then ordered for execution. The last was hanged before he seemed quite to comprehend what was designed to be done with him. Ramorny, pale as death, yet with the same spirit of pride which had occasioned his ruin, pleaded his knighthood, and demanded the privilege of dying by decapitation by the sword, and not by the noose265.
“The Douglas never alters his doom,” said Balveny. “But thou shalt have all thy rights. Send the cook hither with a cleaver266.”
The menial whom he called appeared at his summons.
“What shakest thou for, fellow?” said Balveny; “here, strike me this man’s gilt267 spurs from his heels with thy cleaver. And now, John Ramorny, thou art no longer a knight, but a knave268. To the halter with him, provost marshal! hang him betwixt his companions, and higher than them if it may be.”
In a quarter of an hour afterwards, Balveny descended269 to tell the Douglas that the criminals were executed.
“Then there is no further use in the trial,” said the Earl. “How say you, good men of inquest, were these men guilty of high treason — ay or no?”
“Guilty,” exclaimed the obsequious inquest, with edifying270 unanimity271, “we need no farther evidence.”
“Sound trumpets, and to horse then, with our own train only; and let each man keep silence on what has chanced here, until the proceedings272 shall be laid before the King, which cannot conveniently be till the battle of Palm Sunday shall be fought and ended. Select our attendants, and tell each man who either goes with us or remains behind that he who prates273 dies.”
In a few minutes the Douglas was on horseback, with the followers selected to attend his person. Expresses were sent to his daughter, the widowed Duchess of Rothsay, directing her to take her course to Perth, by the shores of Lochleven, without approaching Falkland, and committing to her charge Catharine Glover and the glee woman, as persons whose safety he tendered.
As they rode through the forest, they looked back, and beheld the three bodies hanging, like specks274 darkening the walls of the old castle.
“The hand is punished,” said Douglas, “but who shall arraign275 the head by whose direction the act was done?”
“You mean the Duke of Albany?” said Balveny.
“I do, kinsman; and were I to listen to the dictates276 of my heart, I would charge him with the deed, which I am certain he has authorised. But there is no proof of it beyond strong suspicion, and Albany has attached to himself the numerous friends of the house of Stuart, to whom, indeed, the imbecility of the King and the ill regulated habits of Rothsay left no other choice of a leader. Were I, therefore, to break the bond which I have so lately formed with Albany, the consequence must be civil war, an event ruinous to poor Scotland while threatened by invasion from the activity of the Percy, backed by the treachery of March. No, Balveny, the punishment of Albany must rest with Heaven, which, in its own good time, will execute judgment277 on him and on his house.”
1 lamentable | |
adj.令人惋惜的,悔恨的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
2 determined | |
adj.坚定的;有决心的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
3 mere | |
adj.纯粹的;仅仅,只不过 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
4 resentment | |
n.怨愤,忿恨 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
5 malignity | |
n.极度的恶意,恶毒;(病的)恶性 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
6 disposition | |
n.性情,性格;意向,倾向;排列,部署 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
7 rue | |
n.懊悔,芸香,后悔;v.后悔,悲伤,懊悔 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
8 fully | |
adv.完全地,全部地,彻底地;充分地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
9 extinction | |
n.熄灭,消亡,消灭,灭绝,绝种 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
10 acting | |
n.演戏,行为,假装;adj.代理的,临时的,演出用的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
11 frail | |
adj.身体虚弱的;易损坏的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
12 impaired | |
adj.受损的;出毛病的;有(身体或智力)缺陷的v.损害,削弱( impair的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
13 chamber | |
n.房间,寝室;会议厅;议院;会所 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
14 subterranean | |
adj.地下的,地表下的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
15 dungeon | |
n.地牢,土牢 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
16 dungeons | |
n.地牢( dungeon的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
17 sage | |
n.圣人,哲人;adj.贤明的,明智的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
18 feudal | |
adj.封建的,封地的,领地的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
19 wont | |
adj.习惯于;v.习惯;n.习惯 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
20 miserable | |
adj.悲惨的,痛苦的;可怜的,糟糕的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
21 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: |
|
|
22 villain | |
n.反派演员,反面人物;恶棍;问题的起因 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
23 bowels | |
n.肠,内脏,内部;肠( bowel的名词复数 );内部,最深处 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
24 groans | |
n.呻吟,叹息( groan的名词复数 );呻吟般的声音v.呻吟( groan的第三人称单数 );发牢骚;抱怨;受苦 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
25 gallows | |
n.绞刑架,绞台 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
26 wretch | |
n.可怜的人,不幸的人;卑鄙的人 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
27 fetters | |
n.脚镣( fetter的名词复数 );束缚v.给…上脚镣,束缚( fetter的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
28 augury | |
n.预言,征兆,占卦 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
29 frenzy | |
n.疯狂,狂热,极度的激动 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
30 vaulted | |
adj.拱状的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
31 vault | |
n.拱形圆顶,地窖,地下室 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
32 agonizing | |
adj.痛苦难忍的;使人苦恼的v.使极度痛苦;折磨(agonize的ing形式) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
33 deliberately | |
adv.审慎地;蓄意地;故意地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
34 taunts | |
嘲弄的言语,嘲笑,奚落( taunt的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
35 instinctive | |
adj.(出于)本能的;直觉的;(出于)天性的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
36 exhausted | |
adj.极其疲惫的,精疲力尽的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
37 savage | |
adj.野蛮的;凶恶的,残暴的;n.未开化的人 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
38 drawn | |
v.拖,拉,拔出;adj.憔悴的,紧张的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
39 abhorred | |
v.憎恶( abhor的过去式和过去分词 );(厌恶地)回避;拒绝;淘汰 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
40 torment | |
n.折磨;令人痛苦的东西(人);vt.折磨;纠缠 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
41 victuals | |
n.食物;食品 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
42 shackles | |
手铐( shackle的名词复数 ); 脚镣; 束缚; 羁绊 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
43 behold | |
v.看,注视,看到 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
44 catered | |
提供饮食及服务( cater的过去式和过去分词 ); 满足需要,适合 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
45 rawhide | |
n.生牛皮 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
46 lair | |
n.野兽的巢穴;躲藏处 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
47 snared | |
v.用罗网捕捉,诱陷,陷害( snare的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
48 resounded | |
v.(指声音等)回荡于某处( resound的过去式和过去分词 );产生回响;(指某处)回荡着声音 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
49 solitude | |
n. 孤独; 独居,荒僻之地,幽静的地方 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
50 misery | |
n.痛苦,苦恼,苦难;悲惨的境遇,贫苦 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
51 nay | |
adv.不;n.反对票,投反对票者 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
52 impunity | |
n.(惩罚、损失、伤害等的)免除 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
53 inmates | |
n.囚犯( inmate的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
54 desolate | |
adj.荒凉的,荒芜的;孤独的,凄凉的;v.使荒芜,使孤寂 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
55 vindication | |
n.洗冤,证实 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
56 gallant | |
adj.英勇的,豪侠的;(向女人)献殷勤的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
57 rote | |
n.死记硬背,生搬硬套 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
58 gratitude | |
adj.感激,感谢 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
60 bonnet | |
n.无边女帽;童帽 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
61 prance | |
v.(马)腾跃,(人)神气活现地走 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
62 knights | |
骑士; (中古时代的)武士( knight的名词复数 ); 骑士; 爵士; (国际象棋中)马 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
63 knight | |
n.骑士,武士;爵士 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
64 wield | |
vt.行使,运用,支配;挥,使用(武器等) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
65 yew | |
n.紫杉属树木 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
66 humble | |
adj.谦卑的,恭顺的;地位低下的;v.降低,贬低 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
67 lute | |
n.琵琶,鲁特琴 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
68 intercourse | |
n.性交;交流,交往,交际 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
69 expedients | |
n.应急有效的,权宜之计的( expedient的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
70 dexterity | |
n.(手的)灵巧,灵活 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
71 countenance | |
n.脸色,面容;面部表情;vt.支持,赞同 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
72 huddling | |
n. 杂乱一团, 混乱, 拥挤 v. 推挤, 乱堆, 草率了事 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
73 thicket | |
n.灌木丛,树林 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
74 holly | |
n.[植]冬青属灌木 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
75 whining | |
n. 抱怨,牢骚 v. 哭诉,发牢骚 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
76 groaning | |
adj. 呜咽的, 呻吟的 动词groan的现在分词形式 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
77 ivy | |
n.常青藤,常春藤 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
78 ingenuity | |
n.别出心裁;善于发明创造 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
79 beckoning | |
adj.引诱人的,令人心动的v.(用头或手的动作)示意,召唤( beckon的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
80 vessel | |
n.船舶;容器,器皿;管,导管,血管 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
81 projection | |
n.发射,计划,突出部分 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
82 fissure | |
n.裂缝;裂伤 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
83 contrived | |
adj.不自然的,做作的;虚构的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
84 aperture | |
n.孔,隙,窄的缺口 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
85 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: |
|
|
86 attentively | |
adv.聚精会神地;周到地;谛;凝神 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
87 strings | |
n.弦 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
88 maiden | |
n.少女,处女;adj.未婚的,纯洁的,无经验的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
89 willow | |
n.柳树 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
90 bough | |
n.大树枝,主枝 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
91 cleft | |
n.裂缝;adj.裂开的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
92 wan | |
(wide area network)广域网 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
93 morsels | |
n.一口( morsel的名词复数 );(尤指食物)小块,碎屑 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
94 broth | |
n.原(汁)汤(鱼汤、肉汤、菜汤等) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
95 blessings | |
n.(上帝的)祝福( blessing的名词复数 );好事;福分;因祸得福 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
96 destined | |
adj.命中注定的;(for)以…为目的地的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
97 vices | |
缺陷( vice的名词复数 ); 恶习; 不道德行为; 台钳 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
98 crouched | |
v.屈膝,蹲伏( crouch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
99 croaking | |
v.呱呱地叫( croak的现在分词 );用粗的声音说 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
100 muffle | |
v.围裹;抑制;发低沉的声音 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
101 wilt | |
v.(使)植物凋谢或枯萎;(指人)疲倦,衰弱 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
102 treacherously | |
背信弃义地; 背叛地; 靠不住地; 危险地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
103 famished | |
adj.饥饿的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
104 scrupulous | |
adj.审慎的,小心翼翼的,完全的,纯粹的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
105 touching | |
adj.动人的,使人感伤的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
106 sobbed | |
哭泣,啜泣( sob的过去式和过去分词 ); 哭诉,呜咽地说 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
107 nourishment | |
n.食物,营养品;营养情况 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
108 tolled | |
鸣钟(toll的过去式与过去分词形式) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
109 pitchers | |
大水罐( pitcher的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
110 fidelity | |
n.忠诚,忠实;精确 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
111 onward | |
adj.向前的,前进的;adv.向前,前进,在先 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
112 footpath | |
n.小路,人行道 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
113 fugitive | |
adj.逃亡的,易逝的;n.逃犯,逃亡者 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
114 accomplished | |
adj.有才艺的;有造诣的;达到了的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
115 frieze | |
n.(墙上的)横饰带,雕带 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
116 strictly | |
adv.严厉地,严格地;严密地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
117 averred | |
v.断言( aver的过去式和过去分词 );证实;证明…属实;作为事实提出 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
118 steward | |
n.乘务员,服务员;看管人;膳食管理员 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
119 awakens | |
v.(使)醒( awaken的第三人称单数 );(使)觉醒;弄醒;(使)意识到 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
120 guilt | |
n.犯罪;内疚;过失,罪责 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
121 disappearance | |
n.消失,消散,失踪 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
122 austere | |
adj.艰苦的;朴素的,朴实无华的;严峻的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
123 professed | |
公开声称的,伪称的,已立誓信教的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
124 solitary | |
adj.孤独的,独立的,荒凉的;n.隐士 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
125 sneering | |
嘲笑的,轻蔑的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
126 sneer | |
v.轻蔑;嘲笑;n.嘲笑,讥讽的言语 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
127 incarnate | |
adj.化身的,人体化的,肉色的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
128 devouring | |
吞没( devour的现在分词 ); 耗尽; 津津有味地看; 狼吞虎咽地吃光 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
129 breach | |
n.违反,不履行;破裂;vt.冲破,攻破 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
130 seclusion | |
n.隐遁,隔离 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
131 machinery | |
n.(总称)机械,机器;机构 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
132 foam | |
v./n.泡沫,起泡沫 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
133 casually | |
adv.漠不关心地,无动于衷地,不负责任地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
134 throb | |
v.震颤,颤动;(急速强烈地)跳动,搏动 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
135 augured | |
v.预示,预兆,预言( augur的过去式和过去分词 );成为预兆;占卜 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
136 bustle | |
v.喧扰地忙乱,匆忙,奔忙;n.忙碌;喧闹 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
137 pretence | |
n.假装,作假;借口,口实;虚伪;虚饰 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
138 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: |
|
|
139 shuddering | |
v.战栗( shudder的现在分词 );发抖;(机器、车辆等)突然震动;颤动 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
140 armour | |
(=armor)n.盔甲;装甲部队 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
141 providence | |
n.深谋远虑,天道,天意;远见;节约;上帝 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
142 profligate | |
adj.行为不检的;n.放荡的人,浪子,肆意挥霍者 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
143 brute | |
n.野兽,兽性 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
144 defenders | |
n.防御者( defender的名词复数 );守卫者;保护者;辩护者 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
145 irresolution | |
n.不决断,优柔寡断,犹豫不定 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
146 bloody | |
adj.非常的的;流血的;残忍的;adv.很;vt.血染 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
147 slain | |
杀死,宰杀,杀戮( slay的过去分词 ); (slay的过去分词) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
148 smothered | |
(使)窒息, (使)透不过气( smother的过去式和过去分词 ); 覆盖; 忍住; 抑制 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
149 provocation | |
n.激怒,刺激,挑拨,挑衅的事物,激怒的原因 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
150 ridiculed | |
v.嘲笑,嘲弄,奚落( ridicule的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
151 cloister | |
n.修道院;v.隐退,使与世隔绝 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
152 mountebank | |
n.江湖郎中;骗子 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
153 fatigue | |
n.疲劳,劳累 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
154 unwilling | |
adj.不情愿的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
155 distinguished | |
adj.卓越的,杰出的,著名的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
156 ironical | |
adj.讽刺的,冷嘲的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
157 intrude | |
vi.闯入;侵入;打扰,侵扰 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
158 trifling | |
adj.微不足道的;没什么价值的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
159 tormentor | |
n. 使苦痛之人, 使苦恼之物, 侧幕 =tormenter | |
参考例句: |
|
|
160 chivalrous | |
adj.武士精神的;对女人彬彬有礼的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
161 crave | |
vt.渴望得到,迫切需要,恳求,请求 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
162 garrison | |
n.卫戍部队;驻地,卫戍区;vt.派(兵)驻防 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
163 brace | |
n. 支柱,曲柄,大括号; v. 绷紧,顶住,(为困难或坏事)做准备 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
164 sullen | |
adj.愠怒的,闷闷不乐的,(天气等)阴沉的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
165 squires | |
n.地主,乡绅( squire的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
166 bruited | |
v.传播(传说或谣言)( bruit的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
167 traitor | |
n.叛徒,卖国贼 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
168 forsake | |
vt.遗弃,抛弃;舍弃,放弃 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
169 turret | |
n.塔楼,角塔 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
170 lieutenant | |
n.陆军中尉,海军上尉;代理官员,副职官员 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
171 foul | |
adj.污秽的;邪恶的;v.弄脏;妨害;犯规;n.犯规 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
172 insolence | |
n.傲慢;无礼;厚颜;傲慢的态度 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
173 evict | |
vt.驱逐,赶出,撵走 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
174 bridle | |
n.笼头,束缚;vt.抑制,约束;动怒 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
175 incensed | |
盛怒的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
176 baron | |
n.男爵;(商业界等)巨头,大王 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
177 forth | |
adv.向前;向外,往外 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
178 superstitious | |
adj.迷信的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
179 standing | |
n.持续,地位;adj.永久的,不动的,直立的,不流动的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
180 buffaloes | |
n.水牛(分非洲水牛和亚洲水牛两种)( buffalo的名词复数 );(南非或北美的)野牛;威胁;恐吓 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
181 herding | |
中畜群 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
182 haughty | |
adj.傲慢的,高傲的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
183 barons | |
男爵( baron的名词复数 ); 巨头; 大王; 大亨 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
184 chaff | |
v.取笑,嘲笑;n.谷壳 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
185 sledge | |
n.雪橇,大锤;v.用雪橇搬运,坐雪橇往 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
186 chivalry | |
n.骑士气概,侠义;(男人)对女人彬彬有礼,献殷勤 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
187 grovelling | |
adj.卑下的,奴颜婢膝的v.卑躬屈节,奴颜婢膝( grovel的现在分词 );趴 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
188 remains | |
n.剩余物,残留物;遗体,遗迹 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
189 gilder | |
镀金工人 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
190 mortar | |
n.灰浆,灰泥;迫击炮;v.把…用灰浆涂接合 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
191 vender | |
n.小贩 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
192 doom | |
n.厄运,劫数;v.注定,命定 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
193 vainglorious | |
adj.自负的;夸大的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
194 greasy | |
adj. 多脂的,油脂的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
195 monk | |
n.和尚,僧侣,修道士 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
196 eyebrow | |
n.眉毛,眉 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
197 eloquence | |
n.雄辩;口才,修辞 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
198 implores | |
恳求或乞求(某人)( implore的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
199 brutes | |
兽( brute的名词复数 ); 畜生; 残酷无情的人; 兽性 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
200 traitors | |
卖国贼( traitor的名词复数 ); 叛徒; 背叛者; 背信弃义的人 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
201 deity | |
n.神,神性;被奉若神明的人(或物) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
202 wretches | |
n.不幸的人( wretch的名词复数 );可怜的人;恶棍;坏蛋 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
203 omnipotence | |
n.全能,万能,无限威力 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
204 virtue | |
n.德行,美德;贞操;优点;功效,效力 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
205 adamant | |
adj.坚硬的,固执的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
206 skilful | |
(=skillful)adj.灵巧的,熟练的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
207 atheist | |
n.无神论者 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
208 Christian | |
adj.基督教徒的;n.基督教徒 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
209 glades | |
n.林中空地( glade的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
210 beheld | |
v.看,注视( behold的过去式和过去分词 );瞧;看呀;(叙述中用于引出某人意外的出现)哎哟 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
211 gallop | |
v./n.(马或骑马等)飞奔;飞速发展 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
212 murmur | |
n.低语,低声的怨言;v.低语,低声而言 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
213 herald | |
vt.预示...的来临,预告,宣布,欢迎 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
214 trumpets | |
喇叭( trumpet的名词复数 ); 小号; 喇叭形物; (尤指)绽开的水仙花 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
215 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: |
|
|
216 majesty | |
n.雄伟,壮丽,庄严,威严;最高权威,王权 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
217 exertion | |
n.尽力,努力 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
218 brass | |
n.黄铜;黄铜器,铜管乐器 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
219 eternity | |
n.不朽,来世;永恒,无穷 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
220 brink | |
n.(悬崖、河流等的)边缘,边沿 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
221 disarming | |
adj.消除敌意的,使人消气的v.裁军( disarm的现在分词 );使息怒 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
222 followers | |
追随者( follower的名词复数 ); 用户; 契据的附面; 从动件 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
223 custody | |
n.监护,照看,羁押,拘留 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
224 solely | |
adv.仅仅,唯一地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
225 alleged | |
a.被指控的,嫌疑的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
226 prosecuting | |
检举、告发某人( prosecute的现在分词 ); 对某人提起公诉; 继续从事(某事物); 担任控方律师 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
227 inquiry | |
n.打听,询问,调查,查问 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
228 agitation | |
n.搅动;搅拌;鼓动,煽动 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
229 apparently | |
adv.显然地;表面上,似乎 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
230 corpse | |
n.尸体,死尸 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
231 premature | |
adj.比预期时间早的;不成熟的,仓促的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
232 catastrophe | |
n.大灾难,大祸 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
233 banishes | |
v.放逐,驱逐( banish的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
234 slovenly | |
adj.懒散的,不整齐的,邋遢的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
235 stiffened | |
加强的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
236 interval | |
n.间隔,间距;幕间休息,中场休息 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
237 investigations | |
(正式的)调查( investigation的名词复数 ); 侦查; 科学研究; 学术研究 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
238 clenched | |
v.紧握,抓紧,咬紧( clench的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
239 texture | |
n.(织物)质地;(材料)构造;结构;肌理 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
240 bristles | |
短而硬的毛发,刷子毛( bristle的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
241 kinsman | |
n.男亲属 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
242 felons | |
n.重罪犯( felon的名词复数 );瘭疽;甲沟炎;指头脓炎 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
243 apothecary | |
n.药剂师 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
244 ardent | |
adj.热情的,热烈的,强烈的,烈性的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
245 obduracy | |
n.冷酷无情,顽固,执拗 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
246 recoiled | |
v.畏缩( recoil的过去式和过去分词 );退缩;报应;返回 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
247 conceal | |
v.隐藏,隐瞒,隐蔽 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
248 solicited | |
v.恳求( solicit的过去式和过去分词 );(指娼妇)拉客;索求;征求 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
249 obsequious | |
adj.谄媚的,奉承的,顺从的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
250 crouching | |
v.屈膝,蹲伏( crouch的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
251 scrap | |
n.碎片;废料;v.废弃,报废 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
252 idol | |
n.偶像,红人,宠儿 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
253 chapel | |
n.小教堂,殡仪馆 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
254 legacy | |
n.遗产,遗赠;先人(或过去)留下的东西 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
255 contemn | |
v.蔑视 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
256 belies | |
v.掩饰( belie的第三人称单数 );证明(或显示)…为虚假;辜负;就…扯谎 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
257 wielded | |
手持着使用(武器、工具等)( wield的过去式和过去分词 ); 具有; 运用(权力); 施加(影响) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
258 dwindled | |
v.逐渐变少或变小( dwindle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
259 dwarf | |
n.矮子,侏儒,矮小的动植物;vt.使…矮小 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
260 chuckle | |
vi./n.轻声笑,咯咯笑 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
261 shrieked | |
v.尖叫( shriek的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
262 appalling | |
adj.骇人听闻的,令人震惊的,可怕的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
263 glamour | |
n.魔力,魅力;vt.迷住 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
264 withdrawn | |
vt.收回;使退出;vi.撤退,退出 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
265 noose | |
n.绳套,绞索(刑);v.用套索捉;使落入圈套;处以绞刑 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
266 cleaver | |
n.切肉刀 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
267 gilt | |
adj.镀金的;n.金边证券 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
268 knave | |
n.流氓;(纸牌中的)杰克 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
269 descended | |
a.为...后裔的,出身于...的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
270 edifying | |
adj.有教训意味的,教训性的,有益的v.开导,启发( edify的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
271 unanimity | |
n.全体一致,一致同意 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
272 proceedings | |
n.进程,过程,议程;诉讼(程序);公报 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
273 prates | |
v.(古时用语)唠叨,啰唆( prate的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
274 specks | |
n.眼镜;斑点,微粒,污点( speck的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
275 arraign | |
v.提讯;控告 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
276 dictates | |
n.命令,规定,要求( dictate的名词复数 )v.大声讲或读( dictate的第三人称单数 );口授;支配;摆布 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
277 judgment | |
n.审判;判断力,识别力,看法,意见 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
欢迎访问英文小说网 |