Sancho slept that night in a cot in the same chamber1 with Don Quixote, a thing he would have gladly excused if he could for he knew very well that with questions and answers his master would not let him sleep, and he was in no humour for talking much, as he still felt the pain of his late martyrdom, which interfered2 with his freedom of speech; and it would have been more to his taste to sleep in a hovel alone, than in that luxurious3 chamber in company. And so well founded did his apprehension4 prove, and so correct was his anticipation5, that scarcely had his master got into bed when he said, “What dost thou think of tonight’s adventure, Sancho? Great and mighty6 is the power of cold-hearted scorn, for thou with thine own eyes hast seen Altisidora slain7, not by arrows, nor by the sword, nor by any warlike weapon, nor by deadly poisons, but by the thought of the sternness and scorn with which I have always treated her.”
“She might have died and welcome,” said Sancho, “when she pleased and how she pleased; and she might have left me alone, for I never made her fall in love or scorned her. I don’t know nor can I imagine how the recovery of Altisidora, a damsel more fanciful than wise, can have, as I have said before, anything to do with the sufferings of Sancho Panza. Now I begin to see plainly and clearly that there are enchanters and enchanted8 people in the world; and may God deliver me from them, since I can’t deliver myself; and so I beg of your worship to let me sleep and not ask me any more questions, unless you want me to throw myself out of the window.”
“Sleep, Sancho my friend,” said Don Quixote, “if the pinprodding and pinches thou hast received and the smacks9 administered to thee will let thee.”
“No pain came up to the insult of the smacks,” said Sancho, “for the simple reason that it was duennas, confound them, that gave them to me; but once more I entreat10 your worship to let me sleep, for sleep is relief from misery11 to those who are miserable12 when awake.”
“Be it so, and God be with thee,” said Don Quixote.
They fell asleep, both of them, and Cide Hamete, the author of this great history, took this opportunity to record and relate what it was that induced the duke and duchess to get up the elaborate plot that has been described. The bachelor Samson Carrasco, he says, not forgetting how he as the Knight13 of the Mirrors had been vanquished14 and overthrown15 by Don Quixote, which defeat and overthrow16 upset all his plans, resolved to try his hand again, hoping for better luck than he had before; and so, having learned where Don Quixote was from the page who brought the letter and present to Sancho’s wife, Teresa Panza, he got himself new armour17 and another horse, and put a white moon upon his shield, and to carry his arms he had a mule18 led by a peasant, not by Tom Cecial his former squire19 for fear he should be recognised by Sancho or Don Quixote. He came to the duke’s castle, and the duke informed him of the road and route Don Quixote had taken with the intention of being present at the jousts20 at Saragossa. He told him, too, of the jokes he had practised upon him, and of the device for the disenchantment of Dulcinea at the expense of Sancho’s backside; and finally he gave him an account of the trick Sancho had played upon his master, making him believe that Dulcinea was enchanted and turned into a country wench; and of how the duchess, his wife, had persuaded Sancho that it was he himself who was deceived, inasmuch as Dulcinea was really enchanted; at which the bachelor laughed not a little, and marvelled21 as well at the sharpness and simplicity22 of Sancho as at the length to which Don Quixote’s madness went. The duke begged of him if he found him (whether he overcame him or not) to return that way and let him know the result. This the bachelor did; he set out in quest of Don Quixote, and not finding him at Saragossa, he went on, and how he fared has been already told. He returned to the duke’s castle and told him all, what the conditions of the combat were, and how Don Quixote was now, like a loyal knight-errant, returning to keep his promise of retiring to his village for a year, by which time, said the bachelor, he might perhaps be cured of his madness; for that was the object that had led him to adopt these disguises, as it was a sad thing for a gentleman of such good parts as Don Quixote to be a madman. And so he took his leave of the duke, and went home to his village to wait there for Don Quixote, who was coming after him. Thereupon the duke seized the opportunity of practising this mystification upon him; so much did he enjoy everything connected with Sancho and Don Quixote. He had the roads about the castle far and near, everywhere he thought Don Quixote was likely to pass on his return, occupied by large numbers of his servants on foot and on horseback, who were to bring him to the castle, by fair means or foul24, if they met him. They did meet him, and sent word to the duke, who, having already settled what was to be done, as soon as he heard of his arrival, ordered the torches and lamps in the court to be lit and Altisidora to be placed on the catafalque with all the pomp and ceremony that has been described, the whole affair being so well arranged and acted that it differed but little from reality. And Cide Hamete says, moreover, that for his part he considers the concocters of the joke as crazy as the victims of it, and that the duke and duchess were not two fingers’ breadth removed from being something like fools themselves when they took such pains to make game of a pair of fools.
As for the latter, one was sleeping soundly and the other lying awake occupied with his desultory25 thoughts, when daylight came to them bringing with it the desire to rise; for the lazy down was never a delight to Don Quixote, victor or vanquished. Altisidora, come back from death to life as Don Quixote fancied, following up the freak of her lord and lady, entered the chamber, crowned with the garland she had worn on the catafalque and in a robe of white taffeta embroidered26 with gold flowers, her hair flowing loose over her shoulders, and leaning upon a staff of fine black ebony. Don Quixote, disconcerted and in confusion at her appearance, huddled27 himself up and well-nigh covered himself altogether with the sheets and counterpane of the bed, tongue-tied, and unable to offer her any civility. Altisidora seated herself on a chair at the head of the bed, and, after a deep sigh, said to him in a feeble, soft voice, “When women of rank and modest maidens28 trample29 honour under foot, and give a loose to the tongue that breaks through every impediment, publishing abroad the inmost secrets of their hearts, they are reduced to sore extremities30. Such a one am I, Senor Don Quixote of La Mancha, crushed, conquered, love-smitten, but yet patient under suffering and virtuous31, and so much so that my heart broke with grief and I lost my life. For the last two days I have been dead, slain by the thought of the cruelty with which thou hast treated me, obdurate32 knight,
O harder thou than marble to my plaint;
or at least believed to be dead by all who saw me; and had it not been that Love, taking pity on me, let my recovery rest upon the sufferings of this good squire, there I should have remained in the other world.”
“Love might very well have let it rest upon the sufferings of my ass23, and I should have been obliged to him,” said Sancho. “But tell me, senora — and may heaven send you a tenderer lover than my master — what did you see in the other world? What goes on in hell? For of course that’s where one who dies in despair is bound for.”
“To tell you the truth,” said Altisidora, “I cannot have died outright33, for I did not go into hell; had I gone in, it is very certain I should never have come out again, do what I might. The truth is, I came to the gate, where some dozen or so of devils were playing tennis, all in breeches and doublets, with falling collars trimmed with Flemish bonelace, and ruffles34 of the same that served them for wristbands, with four fingers’ breadth of the arms exposed to make their hands look longer; in their hands they held rackets of fire; but what amazed me still more was that books, apparently35 full of wind and rubbish, served them for tennis balls, a strange and marvellous thing; this, however, did not astonish me so much as to observe that, although with players it is usual for the winners to be glad and the losers sorry, there in that game all were growling36, all were snarling37, and all were cursing one another.” “That’s no wonder,” said Sancho; “for devils, whether playing or not, can never be content, win or lose.”
“Very likely,” said Altisidora; “but there is another thing that surprises me too, I mean surprised me then, and that was that no ball outlasted38 the first throw or was of any use a second time; and it was wonderful the constant succession there was of books, new and old. To one of them, a brand-new, well-bound one, they gave such a stroke that they knocked the guts39 out of it and scattered40 the leaves about. ‘Look what book that is,’ said one devil to another, and the other replied, ‘It is the “Second Part of the History of Don Quixote of La Mancha,” not by Cide Hamete, the original author, but by an Aragonese who by his own account is of Tordesillas.’ ‘Out of this with it,’ said the first, ‘and into the depths of hell with it out of my sight.’ ‘Is it so bad?’ said the other. ‘So bad is it,’ said the first, ‘that if I had set myself deliberately41 to make a worse, I could not have done it.’ They then went on with their game, knocking other books about; and I, having heard them mention the name of Don Quixote whom I love and adore so, took care to retain this vision in my memory.”
“A vision it must have been, no doubt,” said Don Quixote, “for there is no other I in the world; this history has been going about here for some time from hand to hand, but it does not stay long in any, for everybody gives it a taste of his foot. I am not disturbed by hearing that I am wandering in a fantastic shape in the darkness of the pit or in the daylight above, for I am not the one that history treats of. If it should be good, faithful, and true, it will have ages of life; but if it should be bad, from its birth to its burial will not be a very long journey.”
Altisidora was about to proceed with her complaint against Don Quixote, when he said to her, “I have several times told you, senora that it grieves me you should have set your affections upon me, as from mine they can only receive gratitude42, but no return. I was born to belong to Dulcinea del Toboso, and the fates, if there are any, dedicated43 me to her; and to suppose that any other beauty can take the place she occupies in my heart is to suppose an impossibility. This frank declaration should suffice to make you retire within the bounds of your modesty44, for no one can bind45 himself to do impossibilities.”
Hearing this, Altisidora, with a show of anger and agitation46, exclaimed, “God’s life! Don Stockfish, soul of a mortar47, stone of a date, more obstinate48 and obdurate than a clown asked a favour when he has his mind made up, if I fall upon you I’ll tear your eyes out! Do you fancy, Don Vanquished, Don Cudgelled, that I died for your sake? All that you have seen to-night has been make-believe; I’m not the woman to let the black of my nail suffer for such a camel, much less die!”
“That I can well believe,” said Sancho; “for all that about lovers pining to death is absurd; they may talk of it, but as for doing it — Judas may believe that!”
While they were talking, the musician, singer, and poet, who had sung the two stanzas49 given above came in, and making a profound obeisance50 to Don Quixote said, “Will your worship, sir knight, reckon and retain me in the number of your most faithful servants, for I have long been a great admirer of yours, as well because of your fame as because of your achievements?” “Will your worship tell me who you are,” replied Don Quixote, “so that my courtesy may be answerable to your deserts?” The young man replied that he was the musician and songster of the night before. “Of a truth,” said Don Quixote, “your worship has a most excellent voice; but what you sang did not seem to me very much to the purpose; for what have Garcilasso’s stanzas to do with the death of this lady?”
“Don’t be surprised at that,” returned the musician; “for with the callow poets of our day the way is for every one to write as he pleases and pilfer51 where he chooses, whether it be germane52 to the matter or not, and now-a-days there is no piece of silliness they can sing or write that is not set down to poetic53 licence.”
Don Quixote was about to reply, but was prevented by the duke and duchess, who came in to see him, and with them there followed a long and delightful54 conversation, in the course of which Sancho said so many droll55 and saucy56 things that he left the duke and duchess wondering not only at his simplicity but at his sharpness. Don Quixote begged their permission to take his departure that same day, inasmuch as for a vanquished knight like himself it was fitter he should live in a pig-sty than in a royal palace. They gave it very readily, and the duchess asked him if Altisidora was in his good graces.
He replied, “Senora, let me tell your ladyship that this damsel’s ailment57 comes entirely58 of idleness, and the cure for it is honest and constant employment. She herself has told me that lace is worn in hell; and as she must know how to make it, let it never be out of her hands; for when she is occupied in shifting the bobbins to and fro, the image or images of what she loves will not shift to and fro in her thoughts; this is the truth, this is my opinion, and this is my advice.”
“And mine,” added Sancho; “for I never in all my life saw a lace-maker that died for love; when damsels are at work their minds are more set on finishing their tasks than on thinking of their loves. I speak from my own experience; for when I’m digging I never think of my old woman; I mean my Teresa Panza, whom I love better than my own eyelids59.” “You say well, Sancho,” said the duchess, “and I will take care that my Altisidora employs herself henceforward in needlework of some sort; for she is extremely expert at it.” “There is no occasion to have recourse to that remedy, senora,” said Altisidora; “for the mere60 thought of the cruelty with which this vagabond villain61 has treated me will suffice to blot62 him out of my memory without any other device; with your highness’s leave I will retire, not to have before my eyes, I won’t say his rueful countenance63, but his abominable64, ugly looks.” “That reminds me of the common saying, that ‘he that rails is ready to forgive,’” said the duke.
Altisidora then, pretending to wipe away her tears with a handkerchief, made an obeisance to her master and mistress and quitted the room.
“Ill luck betide thee, poor damsel,” said Sancho, “ill luck betide thee! Thou hast fallen in with a soul as dry as a rush and a heart as hard as oak; had it been me, i’faith ‘another cock would have crowed to thee.’”
So the conversation came to an end, and Don Quixote dressed himself and dined with the duke and duchess, and set out the same evening.
当晚，桑乔与唐吉诃德同住一屋，睡在一张带轱辘的床上。桑乔本想避免与唐吉诃德同居一室，他知道唐吉诃德肯定会问这问那，不让他睡觉。桑乔不想多说话，浑身的疼痛迟迟不消，连舌头也不利索了。他宁愿只身睡在茅屋里，也不愿同唐吉诃德共享那个华丽的房间。桑乔的担心果然有道理。唐吉诃德一上床就说道：
“桑乔，你觉得今晚的事情怎么样？冷酷无情的力量有多大，你亲眼看到了。不用箭，不用剑或其他兵器，仅凭我的冷酷就使阿尔蒂西多拉断送了性命。”
“她愿意什么时候死，愿意怎么死，就去死吧，”桑乔说，“反正跟我没关系。我这辈子既没爱上她，也没蔑视她。我真不明白，就像我上次说过的，阿尔蒂西多拉这个想入非非的姑娘的死活，跟桑乔·潘萨受罪有什么关系？现在我必须承认，世界上的确有魔法师和魔法。让上帝保佑我吧，因为我也免不了会中魔法。不过，现在您还是让我睡觉吧。别再问这问那了，除非您是想逼我从窗口跳出去。”
“那你就睡吧，桑乔朋友，”唐吉诃德说，“只要你在挨了针扎、又掐又拧和胡噜之后还能睡得着。”
“疼倒是不疼，”桑乔说，“最讨厌的就是乱胡噜，让那些女佣乱胡噜一气。我再求您，让我睡觉吧，清醒的时候感觉到的痛苦，睡着了就会大大减轻。”
“但愿如此，”唐吉诃德说，“愿上帝与你同在。”
两人睡觉了。这部巨著的作者锡德·哈迈德想利用这段时间讲述一下，公爵和公爵夫人为什么又想起了安排上文那场闹剧。原来，参孙·卡拉斯科学士扮作镜子骑士被唐吉诃德打败，计划落空以后，他仍然念念不忘，仍然想再试试运气。他碰到曾经给桑乔的老婆特雷莎·潘萨捎信送礼的那个仆人，打听到唐吉诃德的下落，另找了一套盔甲和一匹马，拿着一块画有白月的盾牌，雇了个农夫，牵着一匹骡子，驮上各种必要的物品，又去找唐吉诃德。不过，他没有用原来那个侍从托梅·塞西亚尔，免得让桑乔或唐吉诃德认出来。
参孙·卡拉斯科来到公爵的城堡。公爵告诉他唐吉诃德已经去了萨拉戈萨，准备参加在那儿举行的擂台赛。公爵还讲了戏弄桑乔，让他鞭打自己的屁股，为杜尔西内亚解除魔法的事，而且把桑乔欺骗唐吉诃德，说杜尔西内亚中了魔法，变成了农妇，而公爵夫人又让桑乔相信受骗的是他自己，杜尔西内亚真的中了魔法等等，都告诉了卡拉斯科。卡拉斯科感到很可笑，也感到惊奇，没想到桑乔竟如此单纯，而唐吉诃德又如此疯癫。公爵请求卡拉斯科在找到唐吉诃德后，无论是否战胜了唐吉诃德，都要回来把结果告诉他。卡拉斯科同意了。他启程去萨拉戈萨找唐吉诃德，没找到。他又继续找，结果出现了前面说过的情况。于是，他回到公爵的城堡，把情况告诉了公爵，包括他同唐吉诃德决斗前讲好的条件，而唐吉诃德作为一名忠实的游侠骑士，已同意回乡隐退一年。卡拉斯科说，但愿唐吉诃德的疯病在这一年里能够治愈，他也正是为此才化装而来的。他觉得，像唐吉诃德这样聪明的贵族竟变成了疯子，真是件令人遗憾的事情。
卡拉斯科后来告别公爵，回到了家乡，等着唐吉诃德随后归来。公爵对桑乔和唐吉诃德意犹未尽，利用这段时间又开了刚才叙述的那场玩笑。公爵派了很多佣人，让他们有的骑马，有的步行，等候在城堡附近唐吉诃德可能经过的各条道路上，一旦发现唐吉诃德和桑乔，无论是哄骗还是强拉，一定要把他们带到城堡来。佣人们果然找到了唐吉诃德和桑乔，并且通知了公爵。公爵事先已准备好，于是点燃了院子里的火炬和蜡烛，并且让阿尔蒂西多拉躺到灵台上，一切都演得那么惟妙惟肖，跟真的差不多。锡德·哈迈德还说，他觉得，无论是戏弄别人还是被人戏弄都够疯的。公爵和公爵夫人起劲地戏弄两个疯子，他们自己也快成两个疯子了。而那两个真疯子一个睡得正香，另一个却睡不着觉，正在胡思乱想。天亮了，他们也该起床了。特别是唐吉诃德，无论是胜是负，从来都不喜欢睡懒觉。
唐吉诃德真的以为那个阿尔蒂西多拉死而复生了，而她却接着她的主人继续拿唐吉诃德开心。她头上仍然戴着她在灵台上戴的那个花环，穿着一件绣着金花的白色塔夫绸长衫，头发披散在背上，手拿一根精制的乌木杖，走进了唐吉诃德的房间。唐吉诃德一见她进来，立刻慌作一团，缩进被单里，张口结舌，竟连一句客气话都说不出来了。阿尔蒂西多拉坐到床边的一把椅子上，长叹了一口气，娇声细气地说道：
“尊贵的女人和庄重的姑娘只有在万不得已的时候才不顾廉耻，毫无顾忌地当众说出自己内心的秘密。唐吉诃德大人，我现在就处于这种情况。我多情善感，但仍然不失体面，内心十分痛苦。我难以忍受，因而丧了命。你如此冷酷地对待我——
面对我的哀怨，你竟然无动于衷！
没有良心的骑士啊，我已经死了两天，至少凡是看见我的人都认为我已经死了两天。若不是爱情怜悯我，以这位善良侍从受难的方式解救了我，现在我还在冥府里呆着呢。”
“爱情完全可以让我的驴来做这件事嘛，”桑乔说，“那我就真得感谢它啦！但愿老天给你找一个比我主人更温存的情人。不过，姑娘，请你告诉我，你在冥府都看见什么了？真有地狱吗？凡是绝望而死的人，最后都得下地狱的。”
“实话告诉你吧，”阿尔蒂西多接着说，“我并没有完全死去，所以我也没进入地狱。如果真进了地狱，那我就无论如何也出不来了。不过，我的确到了地狱的门口，有十几个鬼正在打球。他们都穿着裤子和紧身上衣，衣领和袖口上都绣着佛兰德式的花边，露出四寸长的手腕子，这样可以显得手更长。他们手里拿着火焰拍。令我惊奇的是，他们打的不是球，而是书，书里装的是气或者烂棉花之类的东西，真新鲜。而且，更让我惊奇的是，一般打球的时候是赢家高兴输者悲，可是他们打球的时候，都骂骂咧咧地互相埋怨。”
“这不算新鲜，”桑乔说，“他们是鬼，所以不管玩不玩，不管赢没赢，他们都不会高兴。”
“大概是这样吧。”阿尔蒂西多拉说，“还有一件事我也挺奇怪，应该说我当时非常奇怪，那就是他们的书只打一下就坏，不能再打第二下。所以总得换书，不管是新书旧书，简直神了。其中有一本新书，装订得很好，刚打了一下，书就散了。一个鬼对另一个鬼说：‘你看那是什么书？’那个鬼答道：‘这是《唐吉诃德》下卷，但不是原作者锡德·哈迈德写的那本，而是一个阿拉贡人写的，据说他家在托德西利亚斯那儿。’‘把它拿开，’另一个鬼说，‘把它扔到地狱的深渊里去，再也别让我看到它。’‘这本书就那么差吗？’一个鬼问道。‘太差了，’第一个鬼说，‘差得就是我想写这么差都写不了。’他们又继续玩，打一些书。我听他们提到了唐吉诃德这个名字，而我热爱唐吉诃德，所以把这个情况尽力记了下来。”
“那肯定是一种虚幻，”唐吉诃德说，“因为世界上只有一个唐吉诃德。而且，这本书在这儿也曾传阅过，传来传去的，因为谁也不想要它。无论是听说这本书被扔进了地狱的深渊，还是听说它光明正大地在世上流传，我都不在乎，反正那本书里写的不是我。如果那本书写得好，写得真实，它就会流传于世；如果写得不好，它问世之后不久就会消失。”
阿尔蒂西多拉还想继续埋怨唐吉诃德，唐吉诃德却对她说道：
“我已经同你说过多次了，姑娘，你总是对我寄托情思，这让我很为难。我对此只能表示感谢，却不能予以回报。我生来就属于托博索的杜尔西内亚。如果真的存在命运的话，那么，命运已把我安排给了她。若想用另外一个美女来代替她在我心中的地位，那是根本不可能的事。这就足以让你明白了，你应该自重，不可能的事情谁也不能勉强。”
听到此话，阿尔蒂西多拉脸上骤然变色。她对唐吉诃德说道：
“好啊，你这个骨瘦如柴的家伙，榆木脑袋死心眼，比乡巴佬还固执，怎么说都不行！我真想扑过去，把你的眼睛挖出来！你这个战败的大人，挨揍的大人，难道你真以为我会为你去死吗？你昨天晚上看到的一切都是假的，我可不是那种女人！谁稍微碰我一下我都嫌疼，就更别说为了像你这样的笨蛋去死了。”
“这点我相信，”唐吉诃德说，“为情而死是笑话，那只是说说而已；要说真的去死，鬼才信呢。”
他们正说着话，前一天晚上唱歌的那位音乐家、歌手兼诗人进来了。他向唐吉诃德鞠了个躬，说道：
“骑士大人，我很早以前就听说了您的英名和事迹，非常崇拜您。请您把我当作您的一个仆人吧。”
唐吉诃德说：
“请您告诉我您是谁，我将以礼相待。”
小伙子说他就是前一天晚上唱歌的那个人。
“不错，”唐吉诃德说，“您的嗓子确实不错。不过，我觉得您唱的内容不一定合适，加西拉索的诗同这个姑娘的死有什么关系呢？”
“您别见怪，”小伙子说，“我们这些毛头诗人总是想写什么就写什么，想抄谁的就抄谁的，也不管对题不对题。如果不是胡唱乱写，那倒是怪事了。”
唐吉诃德正要答话，却被进来看望他的公爵和公爵夫人打断了。宾主高高兴兴地谈了很长时间，桑乔又说了很多趣话和傻话，让公爵和公爵夫人出乎意料，弄不清桑乔到底是聪明还是傻。唐吉诃德请求公爵和公爵夫人允许他当天就离开，因为像他这样的战败骑士应该住在简陋的小屋，而不是住在豪华的殿堂里。公爵和公爵夫人很痛快地答应了。公爵夫人问唐吉诃德是否喜欢阿尔蒂西多拉，唐吉诃德说道：
“大人，您应该明白，这个姑娘的毛病来源于闲散，解决的办法就是让她总有点儿正经活干。她说地狱里很时兴花边，而且她又会做花边，那就不应该让她的手闲着。织来织去，就没工夫想什么情人不情人的事情了。这是事实。这是我的看法，也是我的忠告。”
“这也是我的看法和忠告。”桑乔说道，“我这辈子还没听说过哪个织花边的姑娘为爱情而死呢。活儿一多，姑娘们就只想着完成任务，没时间去想什么爱情了。我的情况就是这样。我刨地的时候就爱把我的内人，我是说我的特雷莎·潘萨忘记，尽管我爱她胜过自己的眼睫毛。”
“你说得很对，桑乔，”伯爵夫人说，“以后我准备让阿尔蒂西多拉做点针线活。她的针线活很好。”
“没必要采用这种方法，夫人。”阿尔蒂西多拉说，“一想到这位流浪汉对我的冷酷无情，不必采用任何方法，我就会把他忘得一干二净。夫人，请允许我出去吧，免得这个已经不是可悲而是可恶的形象总是在我眼前晃动。”
“我觉得，”公爵说，“这就是人们常说的——
骂个不停，
怒气将平。”
阿尔蒂西多拉假装用手绢擦了擦眼泪，向公爵和公爵夫人鞠了个躬，然后走出了房间。
“我敢担保，”桑乔说，“姑娘，你运气不好，因为你碰到了一个心眼好、心肠硬的人。要是碰上我这样的人，情况就大不一样了。”
聊完以后，唐吉诃德穿好衣服，同公爵和公爵夫人一起吃了饭，当天下午就离开了。
收听单词发音 |
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chamber
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| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
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interfered
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| v.干预( interfere的过去式和过去分词 )；调停；妨碍；干涉 | |
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luxurious
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| adj.精美而昂贵的；豪华的 | |
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apprehension
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| n.理解，领悟；逮捕，拘捕；忧虑 | |
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anticipation
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| n.预期，预料，期望 | |
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mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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slain
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| 杀死，宰杀，杀戮( slay的过去分词 )； (slay的过去分词) | |
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enchanted
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| adj. 被施魔法的，陶醉的，入迷的 动词enchant的过去式和过去分词 | |
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smacks
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| 掌掴（声）( smack的名词复数 )； 海洛因； （打的）一拳； 打巴掌 | |
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entreat
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| v.恳求，恳请 | |
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misery
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| n.痛苦，苦恼，苦难；悲惨的境遇，贫苦 | |
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miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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knight
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| n.骑士，武士；爵士 | |
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vanquished
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| v.征服( vanquish的过去式和过去分词 )；战胜；克服；抑制 | |
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overthrown
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| adj. 打翻的，推倒的，倾覆的 动词overthrow的过去分词 | |
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overthrow
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| v.推翻，打倒，颠覆；n.推翻，瓦解，颠覆 | |
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armour
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| （=armor）n.盔甲；装甲部队 | |
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mule
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| n.骡子，杂种，执拗的人 | |
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squire
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| n.护卫, 侍从, 乡绅 | |
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jousts
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| （骑士）骑着马用长矛打斗( joust的名词复数 )； 格斗，竞争 | |
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marvelled
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| v.惊奇，对…感到惊奇( marvel的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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simplicity
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| n.简单，简易；朴素；直率，单纯 | |
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ass
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| n.驴；傻瓜，蠢笨的人 | |
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foul
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| adj.污秽的；邪恶的；v.弄脏；妨害；犯规；n.犯规 | |
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desultory
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| adj.散漫的，无方法的 | |
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embroidered
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| adj．绣花的 | |
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huddled
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| 挤在一起（huddle的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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maidens
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| 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 | |
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trample
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| vt.踩，践踏；无视，伤害，侵犯 | |
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extremities
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| n.端点( extremity的名词复数 )；尽头；手和足；极窘迫的境地 | |
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virtuous
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| adj.有品德的，善良的，贞洁的，有效力的 | |
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obdurate
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| adj.固执的，顽固的 | |
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outright
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| adv.坦率地；彻底地；立即；adj.无疑的；彻底的 | |
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ruffles
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| 褶裥花边( ruffle的名词复数 ) | |
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apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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growling
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| n.吠声, 咆哮声 v.怒吠, 咆哮, 吼 | |
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snarling
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| v.（指狗）吠，嗥叫， （人）咆哮( snarl的现在分词 )；咆哮着说，厉声地说 | |
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outlasted
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| v.比…长久，比…活得长( outlast的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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guts
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| v.狼吞虎咽，贪婪地吃，飞碟游戏（比赛双方每组5人，相距15码，互相掷接飞碟）；毁坏（建筑物等）的内部( gut的第三人称单数 )；取出…的内脏n.勇气( gut的名词复数 )；内脏；消化道的下段；肠 | |
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40
scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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deliberately
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| adv.审慎地；蓄意地；故意地 | |
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gratitude
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| adj.感激，感谢 | |
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dedicated
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| adj.一心一意的；献身的；热诚的 | |
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modesty
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| n.谦逊，虚心，端庄，稳重，羞怯，朴素 | |
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45
bind
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| vt.捆，包扎；装订；约束；使凝固；vi.变硬 | |
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46
agitation
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| n.搅动；搅拌；鼓动，煽动 | |
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mortar
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| n.灰浆，灰泥；迫击炮；v.把…用灰浆涂接合 | |
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48
obstinate
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| adj.顽固的，倔强的，不易屈服的，较难治愈的 | |
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49
stanzas
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| 节，段( stanza的名词复数 ) | |
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50
obeisance
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| n.鞠躬，敬礼 | |
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51
pilfer
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| v.盗，偷，窃 | |
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52
germane
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| adj.关系密切的，恰当的 | |
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53
poetic
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| adj.富有诗意的，有诗人气质的，善于抒情的 | |
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54
delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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droll
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| adj.古怪的，好笑的 | |
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saucy
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| adj.无礼的；俊俏的；活泼的 | |
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57
ailment
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| n.疾病，小病 | |
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58
entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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eyelids
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| n.眼睑( eyelid的名词复数 )；眼睛也不眨一下；不露声色；面不改色 | |
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60
mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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61
villain
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| n.反派演员，反面人物；恶棍；问题的起因 | |
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62
blot
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| vt.弄脏（用吸墨纸）吸干；n.污点，污渍 | |
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63
countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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64
abominable
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| adj.可厌的，令人憎恶的 | |
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