Kojijū‘s answer was not unreasonable1, and yet it seemed rather brusque. Was there to be nothing more? Might he not hope for some word from the princess herself? He seemed in danger of doing grave disservice to Genji, whom he so liked and admired.
On the last day of the Third Month there was a large gathering2 at the Rokujō mansion3. Kashiwagi did not want to attend, but presently decided4 that he might feel a little less gloomy under the blossoms where the Third Princess lived. There was to have been an archery meet in the Second Month, but it had been canceled, and in the Third Month the court was in retreat. Everyone was always delighted to hear that something was happening at Rokujō. The two generals, Higekuro and Yūgiri, were of course present, both of them being very close to the Rokujō house, and all their subordinates were to be present as well. It had been announced as a competition at kneeling archery, but events in standing6 archery were also included, so that several masters of the sport who were to be among the competitors might show their skills. The bowmen were assigned by lot to the fore7 and after sides. Evening came, and the last of the spring mists seemed somehow to resent it. A pleasant breeze made the guests even more reluctant to leave the shade of the blossoms. It may have been that a few of them had had too much to drink.
“Very fine prizes,” said someone. “They show so nicely the tastes of the ladies who chose them. And who really wants to see a soldier battering8 a willow9 branch with a hundred arrows in a row? We much prefer a mannerly meet of the sort we are here being treated to.”
The two generals, Higekuro and Yūgiri, joined the other officers in the archery court. Kashiwagi seemed very thoughtful as he took up his bow. Yūgiri noticed and was worried. He could not, he feared, tell himself that the matter did not concern him. He and Kashiwagi were close friends, alive to each other’s moods as friends seldom are. One of them knew immediately when the smallest shadow had crossed the other’s spirits.
Kashiwagi was afraid to look at Genji. He knew that he was thinking forbidden thoughts. He was always concerned to behave with complete correctness and much worried about appearances. What then was he to make of so monstrous11 a thing as this? He thought of the princess’s cat and suddenly longed to have it for himself. He could not share his unhappiness with it, perhaps, but he might be less lonely The thought became an obsession12. Perhaps he could steal it — but that would not be easy
He visited his sister at court, hoping that she would help him forget his woes13. She was an extremely prudent14 lady who allowed him no glimpse of her. It did seem odd that his own sister should be so careful to keep up the barriers when the Third Princess had let him see her; but his feelings did not permit him to charge her with loose conduct.
He next called on the crown prince, the Third Princess’s brother. There must, he was sure, be a family resemblance. No one could have called the crown prince devastatingly15 handsome, but such eminence16 does bestow17 a certain air and bearing. The royal cat had had a large litter of kittens, which had been put out here and there. One of them, a very pretty little creature, was scampering18 about the crown prince’s rooms. Kashiwagi was of course reminded of the Rokujō cat.
“The Third Princess has a really fine cat. You would have to go a very long way to find its rival. I only had the briefest glimpse, but it made a deep impression on me.”
Very fond of cats, the crown prince asked for all the details. Kashiwagi perhaps made the Rokujō cat seem more desirable than it was.
“It is a Chinese cat, and Chinese cats are different. All cats have very much the same disposition19, I suppose, but it does seem a little more affectionate than most. A perfectly20 charming little thing.”
The crown prince made overtures21 through the Akashi princess and presently the cat was delivered. Everyone was agreed that it was a very superior cat. Guessing that the crown prince meant to keep it, Kashiwagi waited a few days and paid a visit. He had been a favorite of the Suzaku emperor’s and now he was close to the crown prince, to whom he gave lessons on the koto and other instruments.
“Such numbers of cats as you do seem to have. Where is my own special favorite?”
The Chinese cat was apprehended22 and brought in. He took it in his arms.
“Yes, it is a handsome beast,” said the crown prince, “but it does not seem terribly friendly. Maybe it is not used to us. Do you really think it so superior to our own cats?”
“Cats do not on the whole distinguish among people, though perhaps the more intelligent ones do have the beginnings of a rational faculty23. But just look at them all, such swarms24 of cats and all of them such fine ones. Might I have the loan of it for a few days?”
He was afraid that he was being rather silly. But he had his cat. He kept it with him at night, and in the morning would see to its toilet and pet it and feed it. Once the initial shyness had passed it proved to be a most affectionate animal. He loved its way of sporting with the hem5 of his robe or entwining itself around a leg. Sometimes when he was sitting at the veranda25 lost in thought it would come up and speak to him.
“What an insistent26 little beast you are.” He smiled and stroked its back. “You are here to remind me of someone I long for, and what is it you long for yourself? We must have been together in an earlier life, you and I.”
He looked into its eyes and it returned the gaze and mewed more emphatically. Taking it in his arms, he resumed his sad thoughts.
“Now why should a cat all of a sudden dominate his life?” said one of the women. “He never paid much attention to cats before.”
The crown prince asked to have the cat back, but in vain. It had become Kashiwagi’s constant and principal companion.
Tamakazura still felt closer to Yūgiri than to her brothers and sisters. She was a sensitive and affectionate lady and when he came calling she received him without formality. He particularly enjoyed her company because his sister, the crown princess, rather put him off. Higekuro was devoted27 to his new wife and no longer saw his old wife, Prince Hyōbu’s daughter. Since Tamakazura had no daughters, he would have liked to bring Makibashira into the house, but Prince Hyōbu would not hear of it. Makibashira at least must not become a laughingstock. Prince Hyōbu was a highly respected man, one of the emperor’s nearest advisers28, and no request of his was refused. A vigorous man with lively modern tastes, he stood so high in the general esteem30 that he was only less in demand than Genji and Tō no Chūjō. It was commonly thought that Higekuro would be equally important one day. People were of course much interested in his daughter, who had many suitors. The choice among them would be Prince Hyōbu’s to make. He was interested in Kashiwagi and thought it a pity that Kashiwagi should be less interested in Makibashira than in his cat. She was a bright, modern sort of girl. Because her mother was still very much at odds31 with the world, she turned more and more to Tamakazura, her stepmother.
Prince Hotaru was still single. The ladies he had so energetically courted had gone elsewhere. He had lost interest in romantic affairs and did not want to invite further ridicule32. Yet bachelorhood was too much of a luxury. He let it be known that he was not uninterested in Makibashira.
“I think he would do nicely,” said Prince Hyōbu. “People generally say that the next-best thing after sending a daughter to court is finding a prince for her. I think it rather common and vulgar, the rush these days to marry daughters off to mediocrities who have chiefly their seriousness to recommend them.” He accepted Prince Hotaru’s proposal without further ado.
Prince Hotaru was somewhat disappointed. He had expected more of a challenge. Makibashira was not a lady to be spurned33, however, and it was much too late to withdraw his proposal. He visited her and was received with great ceremony by Prince Hyōbu’s household.
“I have many daughters,” said Prince Hyōbu, “and they have caused me nothing but trouble. You might think that by now I would have had enough. But Makibashira at least I must do something for. Her mother is very odd and only gets odder. Her father has not been allowed to manage her affairs and seems to want no part of them. It is all very sad for her.”
He supervised the decorations and went to altogether more trouble than most princes would have thought necessary.
Prince Hotaru had not ceased to grieve for his dead wife. He had hoped for a new wife who looked exactly like her. Makibashira was not unattractive, but she did not resemble the other lady. Perhaps it was because of disappointment that he so seldom visited her.
Prince Hyōbu was surprised and unhappy. In her lucid35 moments, the girl’s mother could see what was happening, and sigh over their sad fate, hers and her daughter’s. Higekuro, who had been opposed to the match from the outset, was of course very displeased36. It was as he had feared and half expected. Prince Hotaru had long been known for a certain looseness and inconstancy. Now that she had evidence so near at hand, Tamakazura looked back to her maiden37 days with a mixture of sadness and amusement, and wondered what sort of troubles Genji and Tō no Chūjō would now be facing if she had accepted Hotaru’s suit. Not that she had had much intention of doing so. She had seemed to encourage him only because of his very considerable ardor38, and it much shamed her to think that she might have seemed even a little eager. And now her stepdaughter was his wife. What sort of things would he be telling her? But she did what she could for the girl, whose brothers were in attendance on her as if nothing had gone wrong.
Prince Hotaru for his part had no intention of abandoning her, and he did not at all like what her sharp-tongued grandmother was saying.
“One marries a daughter to a prince in the expectation that he will give her his undivided attention. What else is there to make up for the fact that he does not amount to much?”
“This seems a bit extreme,” said Prince Hotaru, missing his first wife more than ever. “I loved her dearly, and yet I permitted myself an occasional flirtation39 on the side, and I do not remember that I ever had to listen to this sort of thing.”
He withdrew more and more to the seclusion40 of his own house, where he lived with memories.
A year passed, and two years. Makibashira was reconciled to her new life. It was the marriage she had made for herself, and she did not complain.
And more years went by, on the whole uneventfully. The reign41 was now in its eighteenth year.
The emperor had no sons. He had long wanted to abdicate42 and had not kept the wish a secret. “A man never knows how many years he has ahead of him. I would like to live my own life, see the people I want to see and do what I want to do.”
After some days of a rather painful indisposition he suddenly abdicated43. It was a great Pity, everyone said, that he should have taken the step while he was still in the prime of life; but the crown prince was now a grown man and affairs of state passed smoothly44 into his hands.
Tō no Chūjō submitted his resignation as chancellor45 and withdrew to the privacy of his own house. “Nothing in this world lasts forever,” he said, “and when so wise an emperor retires no one need have any regrets at seeing an old graybeard turn in his badge and keys.”
Higekuro became Minister of the Right, in effective charge of the government. His sister would now be the empress-mother if she had lived long enough. She had not been named empress and she had been over-shadowed by certain of her rivals. The eldest46 son of the Akashi princess was named crown prince. The designation was cause for great rejoicing, though no one was much surprised. Yūgiri was named a councillor of the first order. He and the new minister were the closest of colleagues and the best of friends.
Genji lamented48 in secret that the abdicated emperor, who now moved into the Reizei Palace, had no sons. Genji’s worries had passed and his great sin had gone undetected, and he stood in the same relationship to the crown prince as he would have stood to a Reizei son. Yet he would have been happier if the succession had gone through the Reizei emperor. These regrets were of course private. He shared them with no one.
The Akashi princess had several children and was without rivals for the emperor’s affection. There was a certain dissatisfaction abroad that yet another Genji lady seemed likely to be named empress.
Akikonomu was more grateful to Genji as the years went by, for she knew that without him she would have been nothing. It was now much easier for the Reizei emperor to see Genji, and he was far happier than when he had occupied the throne.
The new emperor was most solicitous49 of the Third Princess, his sister. Genji paid her due honor, but his love was reserved for Murasaki, in whom he could see no flaw. It was an ideally happy marriage, closer and fonder as the years went by.
Yet Murasaki had been asking most earnestly that he let her become a nun50. “My life is a succession of trivialities. I long to be done with them and turn to things that really matter. I am old enough to know what life should be about. Do please let me have my way.”
“I would not have thought you heartless enough to suggest such a thing. For years now I have longed to do just that, but I have held back because I have hated to think what the change would mean to you. Do try to imagine how things would be for you if I were to have my way.”
The Akashi princess was fonder of Murasaki than of her real mother, but the latter did not complain. She was an undemanding woman and she knew that her future would be peaceful and secure in quiet service to her daughter. The old Akashi nun needed no encouragement to weep new tears of joy. Red from pleasant weeping, her eyes proclaimed that a long life could be a happy one.
The time had come, thought Genji, to thank the god of Sumiyoshi. The Akashi princess too had been contemplating51 a pilgrimage. Genji opened the box that had come those years before from Akashi. It was stuffed with very grand vows52 indeed. Towards the prosperity of the old monk53’s line the god was to be entertained every spring and autumn with music and dancing. Only someone with Genji’s resources could have seen to fulfilling them all. They were written in a flowing hand which told of great talent and earnest study, and the style was so strong and bold that the gods native and foreign must certainly have taken notice. But how could a rustic54 hermit55 have been so imaginative? Genji was filled with admiration56, even while thinking that the old man had somewhat over-reached himself. Perhaps a saint from a higher world had been fated to descend57 for a time to this one. He could not find it in him to laugh at the old man.
The vows were not made public. The pilgrimage was announced as Genji’s own. He had already fulfilled his vows from those unsettled days on the seacoast, but the glory of the years since had not caused him to forget divine blessings58. This time he would take Murasaki with him. He was determined60 that the arrangements be as simple as possible and that no one be inconvenienced. There were limits, however, to the simplicity61 permitted one of his rank, and in the end it proved to be a very grand progress. All the high-ranking courtiers save only the ministers were in attendance. Guards officers of fine appearance and generally uniform height were selected for the dance troupe62. Among those who did not qualify were some who thought themselves very badly used. The most skilled of the musicians for the special Kamo and Iwashimizu festivals were invited to join the orchestra. There were two famed performers from among the guards musicians as well, and there was a large troupe of Kagura dancers. The emperor, the crown prince, and the Reizei emperor all sent aides to be in special attendance on Genji. The horses of the grandees63 were caparisoned in infinite variety and all the grooms64 and footmen and pages and miscellaneous functionaries65 were in livery more splendid than anyone could remember.
The Akashi princess and Murasaki rode in the same carriage. The next carriage was assigned to the Akashi lady, and her mother was quietly shown to the place beside her. With them was the nurse of the Akashi days. The retinues66 were very grand, five carriages each for Murasaki and the Akashi princess and three for the Akashi lady.
“If your mother is to come with us,” said Genji, “then it must be with full honors. We shall see to smoothing her wrinkles.”
“Are you quite sure you should be showing yourself on such a public occasion?” the lady asked her mother. “Perhaps when the very last of our prayers has been answered.”
But they could not be sure how long she would live, and she did so want to see everything. One might have said that she was the happiest of them all, the one most favored by fortune. For her the joy was complete.
It was late in the Tenth Month. The vines on the shrine68 fence were red and there were red leaves beneath the pine trees as well, so that the services of the wind were not needed to tell of the advent69 of autumn. The familiar eastern music seemed friendlier than the more subtle Chinese and Korean music. Against the sea winds and waves, flutes70 joined the breeze through the high pines of the famous grove73 with a grandeur74 that could only belong to Sumiyoshi. The quiet clapping that went with the koto was more moving than the solemn beat of the drums. The bamboo of the flutes had been stained to a deeper green, to blend with the green of the pines. The ingeniously fabricated flowers in all the caps seemed to make a single carpet with the flowers of the autumn fields.
“The One I Seek” came to an end and the young courtiers of the higher ranks all pulled their robes down over their shoulders as they descended76 into the courtyard, and suddenly a dark field seemed to burst into a bloom of pink and lavender. The crimson77 sleeves beneath, moistened very slightly by a passing shower, made it seem for a moment that the pine groves78 had become a grove of maples79 and that autumn leaves were showering down. Great reeds that had bleached80 to a pure white swayed over the dancing figures, and the waves of white seemed to linger on when the brief dance was over and they had returned to their places.
For Genji, the memory of his time of troubles was so vivid that it might have been yesterday. He wished that Tō no Chūjō had come with him. There was no one else with whom he could exchange memories. Going inside, he took out a bit of paper and quietly got off a note to the old nun in the second carriage.
“You and I remember — and who else?
Only we can address these godly pines.”
Remembering that day, the old lady was in tears. That day: Genji had said goodbye to the lady who was carrying his daughter, and they had thought that they would not see him again. And the old lady had lived for this day of splendor81! She wished that her husband could be here to share it, but would not have wanted to suggest that anything was lacking.
“The aged82 fisherwife knows as not before
That Sumiyoshi is a place of joy.”
It was a quick and spontaneous answer, for it would not do on such an occasion to seem sluggish83. And this was the poem that formed in her heart:
“It is a day I never shall forget.
This god of Sumiyoshi brings me joy.”
The music went on through the night. A third-quarter moon shone clear above and the sea lay calm below; and in a heavy frost the pine groves too were white. It was a weirdly84, coldly beautiful scene. Though Murasaki was of course familiar enough with the music and dance of the several seasons, she rarely left the house and she had never before been so far from the city. Everything was new and exciting.
“So white these pines with frost in the dead of night.
Bedecked with sacred strands85 by the god himself?”
She thought of Takamura musing86 upon the possibility that the great white expanse of Mount Hira had been hung out with sacred mulberry strands. Was the frost a sign that the god had acknowledged their presence and accepted their offerings?
This was the princess’s poem:
“Deep in the night the frost has added strands
To the sacred branches with which we make obeisance87.”
And Nakatsukasa’s:
“So white the frost, one takes it for sacred strands
And sees in it a sign of the holy blessing59.”
There were countless88 others, but what purpose would be served by setting them all down? Each courtier thinks on such occasions that he has outdone all his rivals — but is it so? One poem celebrating the thousand years of the pine is very much like another.
There were traces of dawn and the frost was heavier. The Kagura musicians had had such a good time that response was coming before challenge. They were perhaps even funnier than they thought they were. The fires in the shrine courtyard were burning low. “A thousand years” came the Kagura refrain, and “Ten thousand years,” and the sacred branches waved to summon limitless prosperity for Genji’s house. And so a night which they longed to stretch into ten thousand nights came to an end. It seemed a pity to all the young men that the waves must now fall back towards home. All along the line of carriages curtains fluttered in the breeze and the sleeves beneath were like a flowered tapestry89 spread against the evergreen90 pines. There were numberless colors for the stations and tastes of all the ladies. The footmen who set out refreshments91 on all the elegant stands were fascinated and dazzled. For the old nun there was ascetic92 fare on a tray of light aloeswood spread with olive drab. People were heard to whisper that she had been born under happy stars indeed.
The progress to Sumiyoshi had been laden93 with offerings, but the return trip could be leisurely94 and meandering95. It would be very tiresome96 to recount all the details. Only the fact that the old Akashi monk was far away detracted from the pleasure. He had braved great difficulties and everyone admired him, but it is probable that he would have felt sadly out of place. His name had become synonymous with high ambitions, and his wife’s with good fortune. It was she whom the Omi lady called upon for good luck in her gaming. “Akashi nun!” she would squeal97 as she shook her dice98. “Akashi nun!”
The Suzaku emperor had given himself up most admirably to the religious vocation99. He had dismissed public affairs and gossip from his life, and it was only when the emperor, his son, came visiting in the spring and autumn that memories of the old days returned. Yet he did still think of his third daughter. Genji had taken charge of her affairs, but the Suzaku emperor had asked his son to help with the more intimate details. The emperor had named her a Princess of the Second Rank and increased her emoluments101 accordingly, and so life was for her ever more cheerful.
Murasaki looked about her and saw how everyone seemed to be moving ahead, and asked herself whether she would always have a monopoly on Genji’s affections. No, she would grow old and he would weary of her. She wanted to anticipate the inevitable102 by leaving the world. She kept these thoughts to herself, not wanting to nag34 or seem insistent. She did not resent the fact that Genji divided his time evenly between her and the Third Princess. The emperor himself worried about his sister and would have been upset by any suggestion that she was being neglected. Yet Murasaki could not help thinking that her worst fears were coming true. These thoughts too she kept to herself. She had been given charge of the emperor’s daughter, his second child after the crown prince. The little princess was her great comfort on nights when Genji was away, and she was equally fond of the emperor’s other children.
The lady of the orange blossoms looked on with gentle envy and was given a child of her own, one of Yūgiri’s sons, by the daughter of Koremitsu. He was a pretty little boy, advanced for his age and a favorite of Genji’s. It had been Genji’s chief lament47 that he had so few children, and now in the third generation his house was growing and spreading. With so many grandchildren to play with he had no excuse to be bored.
Genji and Higekuro were better friends now, and Higekuro came calling more frequently. Tamakazura had become a sober matron. No longer suspicious of Genji’s intentions, she too came calling from time to time. She and Murasaki were very good friends.
The Third Princess was the one who refused to grow up. She was still a little child. Genji’s own daughter was now with the emperor. He had a new daughter to worry about.
“I feel that I have very little time left,” said the Suzaku emperor. “It is sad to think about dying, of course, but I am determined not to care. My only unsatisfied wish is to see her at least once more. If I do not I shall continue to have regrets. Perhaps I might ask that without making a great show of it she come and see me?”
Genji thought the request most reasonable and set about preparations. “We really should have sent you without waiting for him to ask. It seems very sad that he should have you so on his mind even now.”
But they had to have a good reason — a casual visit would not do. What would it be? He remembered that the Suzaku emperor would soon be entering his fiftieth year, and an offering of new herbs seemed appropriate. He gave orders for dark robes and other things a hermit might need and asked the advice of others on how to arrange something worthy103 of the occasion. The Suzaku emperor had always been fond of music and so Genji began selecting dancers and musicians. Two of Higekuro’s sons and three of Yūgiri’s, including one by Koremitsu’s daughter, had passed the age of seven and gone to court. There were young people too in Prince Hotaru’s house and other eminent104 houses, princely and common, and there were young courtiers distinguished105 for good looks and graceful106 carriage. Everyone was happy to make an extra effort for so festive107 an event. All the masters of music and dance were kept busy.
The Suzaku emperor had given the Third Princess lessons on the seven-stringed Chinese koto. She was still very young when she left him, however, and he wondered what progress she might have made.
“How good if she could play for me. Perhaps in that regard at least she has grown up a little.”
He quietly let these thoughts be known and the emperor heard of them. “Yes, I should think that with the koto at least she should have made progress. How I wish I might be there.”
Genji too heard of them. “I have done what I can to teach her,” he said. “She has improved a great deal, but I wonder whether her playing is really quite good enough yet to delight the royal ear. If she goes unprepared and has to play for him, she might have a very uncomfortable time of it.”
Turning his attention now to music lessons, he kept back none of his secrets, none of the rare strains, complex medleys108, and seasonal109 variations and tunings. She seemed uncertain at first but presently gathered confidence.
“There are always such crowds of people around in the daytime,” he said. “You have your left hand poised110 over the koto and are wondering what to do with it, and along comes someone with a problem. The evening is the time. I will come in the evening when it is quiet and teach you everything I know.”
He had given neither Murasaki nor the Akashi princess lessons on the seven-stringed koto. They were most anxious to hear what must certainly be unusual playing. The emperor was always reluctant to let the Akashi princess leave court, but he did finally give permission for a visit, which must, he said, be a brief one. She would soon have another child — she had two sons and was five months pregnant — and the danger of defiling111 any one of the many Shinto observances was her excuse for leaving. In the Twelfth Month there were repeated messages from the emperor urging her return. The nightly lessons in the Third Princess’s rooms fascinated her and aroused a certain envy. Why, she asked Genji, had he not taken similar troubles with her?
Unlike most people, Genji loved the cold moonlit nights of winter. With deep feeling he played several songs that went well with the snowy moonlight. Adepts113 among his men joined him on lute72 and koto. In Murasaki’s wing of the house preparations were afoot for the New Year. She made them her own personal concern.
“When it is warmer,” she said more than once, “you really must let me hear the princess’s koto.”
The New Year came.
The emperor was determined that his father’s jubilee114 year begin with the most solemn and dignified115 ceremony. A visit from the Third Princess would complicate116 matters, and so a date towards the middle of the Second Month was chosen. All the musicians and dancers assembled for rehearsals117 at Rokujō, which went on and on.
“The lady in the east wing has long been after me to let her hear your koto,” said Genji to the Third Princess. “I think a feminine concert on strings118 is what we want. We have some of the finest players of our day right here in this house. They can hold their own, I am sure of it, with the professionals. My own formal training was neglected, but when I was a boy I was eager to learn what was to be learned. I had lessons from the famous masters and looked into the secret traditions of all the great houses. I came upon no one who exactly struck me dumb with admiration. It is even worse today. Young people dabble119 at music and pick up mannerisms, and what passes for music is very shallow stuff indeed. You are almost alone in your attention to this seven-stringed koto. I doubt that we could find your equal all through the court”
She smiled happily at the compliment. Though she was in her early twenties and very pretty, she was tiny and fragile and still very much a child. He wished that she might at least look a little more grown-up.
“Your royal father has not seen you in years,” he would say. “You must show him what a fine young lady you have become.”
Her women silently thanked him. That she had grown up at all was because of the trouble he had taken with her.
Late in the First Month the sky was clear and the breeze was warm, and the plums near the veranda were in full bloom. In delicate mists, the other flowering trees were coming into bud.
“From the first of the month we will be caught up in our final rehearsals,” said Genji, inviting120 Murasaki to the Third Princess’s rooms. “The confusion will be enormous, and we would not want it to seem that you are getting ready to go with us on the royal visit. Suppose we have our concert now, while it is still fairly quiet.”
All her women wanted to come with her, but she selected only those, including some of rather advanced years, whose aptitude121 for music had been shaped by serious study. Four of her prettiest little girls were also with her, all of them in red robes, cloaks of white lined with red, jackets of figured lavender, and damask trousers. Their chemises were also red, fulled to a high sheen. They were as pretty and stylish122 as little girls can be. The apartments of the Akashi princess were more festive than usual, bright with new spring decorations. Her women quite outdid themselves. Her little girls too were in uniform dress, green robes, cloaks of pink lined with crimson, trousers of figured Chinese satin, and jackets of a yellow Chinese brocade. The Akashi lady had her little girls dressed in quiet but unexceptionable taste: two wore rose plum and two were in white robes lined with red, and all four had on celadon-green cloaks and purple jackets and chemises aglow123 with the marks of the fulling blocks.
The Third Princess, upon being informed that she was to be hostess to such a gathering, put her little girls into robes of a rich yellowish green, white cloaks lined with green, and jackets of magenta124. Though there was nothing overdone125 about this finery, the effect was of remarkable126 richness and elegance127.
The sliding doors were removed and the several groups separated from one another by curtains. A cushion had been set out for Genji himself at the very center of the assembly. Out near the veranda were two little boys charged with setting the pitch, Tamakazura’s elder son on the shō pipes and Yūgiri’s eldest on the flute71. Genji’s ladies were behind blinds with their much-prized instruments set out before them in fine indigo128 covers, a lute for the Akashi lady, a Japanese koto for Murasaki, a thirteen-stringed Chinese koto for the Akashi princess. Worried lest the Third Princess seem inadequate129, Genji himself tuned130 her seven-stringed koto for her.
“The thirteen-stringed koto holds its pitch on the whole well enough,” he said, “but the bridges have a way of slipping in the middle of a concert. Ladies do not always get the strings as tight as they should. Maybe we should summon Yūgiri. Our pipers are rather young, and they may not be quite firm enough about bringing things to order.”
Yūgiri’s arrival put the ladies on their mettle131. With the single exception of the Akashi lady they were all Genji’s own treasured pupils. He hoped that they would not shame him before his son. He had no fears about the Akashi princess, whose koto had often enough joined others in His Majesty132’s own presence. It was the Japanese koto that was most likely to cause trouble. He felt for Murasaki, whose responsibility it would be. Though it is a rather simple instrument, everything about it is fluid and indefinite, and there are no clear guides. All the instruments of spring were here assembled. It would be a great pity if any of them struck a sour note.
Yūgiri was in dashingly informal court dress, the singlets and most especially the sleeves very nicely perfumed. It was evening when he arrived, looking a little nervous. The plums were so heavy with blossom in the evening light that one might almost have thought that a winter snow had refused to melt. Their fragrance133 mixed on the breeze with the wonderfully delicate perfumes inside the house to such enchanting134 effect that the spring warbler might have been expected to respond immediately.
“I know I should let you catch your breath,” said Genji, pushing a thirteen-stringed koto towards his son, “but would you be so kind as to try this out and see that it is in tune67? There are no strangers here before whom you need feel shy.”
Bowing deeply (his manners were always perfect), Yūgiri tuned the instrument in the ichikotsu mode and waited politely for further instructions.
“You must get things started for us,” said Genji. “No false notes, if you please.”
“I fear I do not have the qualifications to join you.”
“I suppose not,” smiled Genji. “But would you wish to have it said that a band of ladies drove you away?”
Yūgiri played just enough to make quite sure the instrument was in tune and pushed it back under the blinds.
The little boys were very pretty in casual court dress. Their playing was of course immature135, but it showed great promise.
The stringed instruments were all in tune and the concert began. Each of the ladies did beautifully, but the lute somehow stood out from the other instruments, sedately136 and venerably quiet and yet with great authority. Yūgiri was listening especially for the japanese koto. The tone was softly alluring137 and the plectrum caught at the strings with a vivacity138 which seemed to him very novel. None of the professed139 masters could have done better. He would not have thought that the Japanese koto had such life in it. Clearly Murasaki had worked hard, and Genji was pleased and satisfied.
The thirteen-stringed Chinese koto, a gentle, feminine sort of instrument, takes its place hesitantly and deferentially140 among the other instruments. As for the seven-stringed koto, the Third Princess was not quite a complete master yet, but her playing had an assurance that did justice to her recent labors141. Her koto took its place very comfortably among the other instruments. Yes, thought Yūgiri, who beat time and sang the lyrics142, she had acquired a most admirable touch. Sometimes Genji too would beat time with his fan and sing a brief passage. His voice had improved with the years, filled out and taken on a dignity it had not had before. Yūgiri’s voice was almost as good. I would be very hard put indeed to describe the pleasures of the night, which was somehow quieter as it filled with music.
It was the time of the month when the moon rises late. The flares143 at the eaves were just right, neither too dim nor too strong. Genji glanced at the Third Princess. She was smaller than the others, so tiny indeed that she seemed to be all clothes. Hers was not a striking sort of beauty, but it was marked by very great refinement144 and delicacy145. One thought of a willow sending forth146 its first shoots toward the end of the Second Month, so delicate that the breeze from the warbler’s wing seems enough to disarrange them. The hair flowing over a white robe lined with red also suggested the trailing strands of a willow. One knew that she was the most wellborn of ladies. Beside her the Akashi princess seemed gentle and delicate in a livelier, brighter way, and somehow deeper and subtler too, trained to greater diversity. One might have likened her to a wisteria in early morning, blooming from spring into summer with no other blossoms to rival it. She was heavy with child and seemed uncomfortable. She pushed her koto away and leaned forward on an armrest which, though the usual size, seemed too large for her. Genji would have liked to send for a smaller one. Her hair fell thick and full over rose plum. She had a most winning charm in the soft, wavering light from the eaves.
Over a robe of pink Murasaki wore a robe of a rich, deep hue147, a sort of magenta, perhaps. Her hair fell in a wide, graceful cascade148. She was of just the right height, so beautiful in every one of her features that they added up to more than perfection. A cherry in full bloom — but not even that seemed an adequate simile149.
One would have expected the Akashi lady to be quite overwhelmed by such company, but she was not. Careful, conservative taste was evident in her grooming150 and dress. One sensed quiet depths, and an ineffable151 elegance which was all her own. She had on a figured “willow” robe, white lined with green, and a cloak of a yellowish green, and as a mark of respect for the other ladies, a train of a most delicate and yielding gossamer152. Everything about her emphasized her essential modesty153 and unassertiveness, but there was much that suggested depth and subtlety154 as well. Again as a mark of respect, she knelt turned somewhat away from the others with her lute before her and only her knees on the green Korean brocade with which the matting was fringed. She guided her plectrum with such graceful assurance through a quiet melody that it was almost more of a pleasure to the eye than to the ear. One thought of fruit and flowers on the same orange branch, “awaiting the Fifth Month.”
Everything he heard and saw told Yūgiri of a most decorous and Formal assembly. He would have liked to look inside the blinds, most especially at Murasaki, who would doubtless have taken on a calmer and more mature beauty since he had had that one glimpse of her. As for the Third Princess, only a slight shift of fate and she might have been his rather than his father’s. The Suzaku emperor had more than once hinted at something of the sort to Yūgiri himself and mentioned the possibility to others. Yūgiri should have been a little bolder. Yet it was not as if he had lost his senses over the princess. Certain evidences of immaturity155 had had the effect not exactly of cheapening her in his eyes but certainly of cooling his ardor. He could have no possible designs on Murasaki. She had through the years been a remote and lofty symbol of all that was admirable. He only wished that he had some way of showing, some disinterested156, gentlemanly way, how very high was his regard for her. He was a model of prudence157 and sobriety and would not have dreamed of doing anything unseemly.
It was late and rather chilly158 when the first rays of “the moon for which one lies in wait” came forth.
“The misty159 moon of spring is not the best, really,” said Genji. “In the autumn the singing of the insects weaves a fabric75 with the music. The combination is rather wonderful.”
“It is true,” replied Yūgiri, “that on an autumn night there is sometimes not a trace of a shadow over the moon and the sound of a koto or a flute can seem as high and clear as the night itself. But the sky can have a sort of put-on look about it, like an artificial setting for a concert, and the autumn flowers insist on being gazed at. It is all too pat, too perfect. But in the spring — the moon comes through a haze160 and a quiet sound of flute joins it in a way that is not possible in the autumn. No, a flute is not really its purest on an autumn night. It has long been said that it is the spring night to which the lady is susceptible161, and I am inclined to accept the statement. The spring night is the one that brings out the quiet harmonies.”
“The ancients were unable to resolve the dispute, and I think it would be presumptuous162 of their inferior descendants to seek to do so. It is a fact that the major modes of spring are commonly given precedence over the minor163 modes of autumn, and so you may be right.
“His Majesty from time to time has the famous masters in to play for him, and the conclusion seems to be that the ones who deserve the name are fewer and fewer. Am I wrong in suspecting that a person has less to learn from them? Our ladies here may not be on the established list of masters, but I doubt that they would seem hopelessly out of place. Of course, it may be that I have been away from things for so long that I no longer have a very good ear. That would be a pity. Yet I do sometimes find myself marveling that a little practice in this house brings out such talents. How does what you have heard tonight compare with what is chosen for His Majesty to hear?”
“I am very badly informed,” said Yūgiri, “but I do have a thought or two in the matter. It may be a confession164 of ignorance of the great tradition to say that Kashiwagi on the Japanese koto and Prince Hotaru on the lute are to be ranked among the masters. I had thought them quite without rivals, but this evening I have been forced to change my mind. I am filled with astonishment165 at what I have heard. Might it be that I had been prepared for something more casual, more easygoing? You have asked me to be voice and percussion166, and I have felt very inadequate indeed. Lord Tō no Chūjō is said to be the best of them all on the japanese koto, the one who has the widest and subtlest variety of touches to go with the seasons. It is true that one rarely hears anything like his koto, but I confess that tonight I have been treated to skills that seem to me every bit as remarkable.”
“Oh, surely you exaggerate.” Genji was smiling proudly. “But I do
have a fine set of pupils, do I not? I cannot claim credit for the lute, but even there I think residence in this house has made a difference. I thought it most extraordinary off in the hinterlands and I think it has improved since it came to the city.”
The women were exchanging amused glances that he should be claiming credit even for the Akashi lady.
“It is very difficult indeed to master any instrument,” he continued. “The possibilities seem infinite and nothing seems complete and finished. But there are few these days who even try, and I suppose it should be cause for satisfaction when someone masters any one small aspect. The seven-stringed koto is the unmanageable one. We are told that in ancient times there were many who mastered the whole tradition of the instrument, and made heaven and earth their own, and softened167 the hearts of demons168 and gods. Taking into this one instrument all the tones and overtones of all the others, they found joy in the depths of sorrow and transformed the base and mean into the fine and proud, and gained wealth and universal fame. There was a time, before the tradition had been established in japan, when the most enormous trouble was required of anyone who sought to learn the art. He must spend years in strange lands and give up everything, and even then only a few came back with what they had gone out to seek. In the old chronicles there are stories of musicians who moved the moon and the stars and brought unseasonal snows and frosts and conjured169 up tempests and thunders. In our day there is scarcely anyone who has even mastered the whole of the written lore170, and the full possibilities are enormous. So little these days seems to make even a beginning — because the Good Law is in its decline, I suppose.
“It may be that people are intimidated171. The seven-stringed koto was the instrument that moved demons and gods, and inadequate mastery had correspondingly unhappy results. What other instrument is to be at the center of things, setting the tone for all the others? Ours is a day of very sad decline. Only a madman, we say, would be so obsessed172 with an art as to abandon parents and children and go wandering off over Korea and China. But we need not make quite such extreme sacrifices. Keeping within reasonable bounds, why should we not try to make the b inning that seems at least possible? The difficulties in mastering a single mode are indescribable, and there are so many modes and so many complicated melodies. Back in the days when I was a rather enthusiastic student of music, I went through the scores that have been preserved in this country, and presently there was no one to teach me. Yet I know that I am infinitely173 less competent than the old masters; and it is sad to think that no one is prepared to learn from me even the little that I know, and so the decline must continue.”
It was true, thought Yūgiri, feeling very inadequate.
“If one or another of my princely grandchildren should live up to the promise he shows now and I myself still have a few years before me, then perhaps by the time he is grown I can pass on what I know. It is very little, I am afraid. I think that the Second Prince shows very considerable promise.”
It pleased the Akashi lady to think that she had had a part in this glory.
As she lay down to rest, the Akashi princess pushed her koto towards Murasaki, who relinquished174 hers to Genji. They played an intimate sort of duet, the Saibara “Katsuragi,” very light and happy. In better voice than ever, Genji sang the lyrics over a second time. The moon rose higher and the color and scent175 of the plum blossoms seemed to be higher and brighter too. The Akashi princess had a most engagingly girlish touch on the thirteen-stringed koto. The tremolo, bright and clear, had in it something of her mother’s style. Murasaki’s touch, strangely affecting, seemed quiet and solemn by comparison, and her cadenzas were superb. For the envoi there was a shift to a minor mode, somehow friendlier and more approachable. In “The Five Airs” the touch of the plectrum against the fifth and sixth strings of the seven-stringed koto is thought to present the supreme176 challenge, but the Third Princess had a fine sureness and lucidity177. One looked in vain for signs of immaturity. The mode an appropriate one for all the strains of spring and autumn, she did not let her attention waver and she gave evidence of real understanding. Genji felt that he had won new honors as a teacher.
The little pipers had been charming, most solemnly attentive178 to their responsibilities.
“You must be sleepy,” said Genji. “It seemed as if we had only begun and I wanted to hear more and more. It was silly of me to think of picking the best when everything was so good, and so the night went by. You must forgive me.”
He urged a sip100 of wine on the little shō piper and rewarded him with a singlet, one of his own favorites. A lady had something for the little flutist, a pair of trousers and a lady’s robe cut from an unassuming fabric. The Third Princess offered a cup to Yūgiri and presented him with a set of her own robes.
“Now this seems very strange and unfair,” said Genji. “If there are to be such grand rewards, then surely the teacher should come first. You are all very rude and thoughtless.”
A flute, a very fine Korean one, was pushed towards him from beneath the Third Princess’s curtains. He smiled as he played a few notes. The guests were beginning to leave, but Yūgiri took up his son’s flute and played a strain marvelous in its clean strength. They were all his very own pupils, thought Genji, to whom he had taught his very own secrets, and they were all accomplished180 musicians. He knew of course that he had had superior material to work with.
The moon was high and bright as Yūgiri set off with his sons. The extraordinary sound of Murasaki’s koto was still with him. Kumoinokari, his wife, had had lessons from their late grandmother, but had been taken away before she had learned a great deal. She quite refused to let him hear her play. She was a sober, reliable sort of lady whose family duties took all her time. To Yūgiri she seemed somewhat backward in the accomplishments181. She was her most interesting when, as did sometimes happen, she allowed herself a fit of temper or jealousy182.
Genji returned to the east wing. Murasaki stayed behind to talk with the Third Princess and it was daylight when she too returned. They slept late.
“Our princess has developed into a rather good musician, I think. How did she seem to you?”
“I must confess that I had very serious doubts when I caught the first notes. But now she is very good indeed, so good that I can scarcely believe it is the same person. Of course I needn’t be surprised, seeing how much of your time it has taken.”
“It has indeed. I am a serious teacher and I have led her every step of the way. The seven-stringed koto is such a bother that I would not try to teach it to just anyone, but her father and brother seemed to be saying that I owed her at least that much. I was feeling a little undutiful at the time, and I thought I should do something to seem worthy of the trust.
“Back in the days when you were still a child I was busy with other things and I am afraid I neglected your lessons. Nor have I done much better in recent years. I have frittered my time away and gone on neglecting you. You did me great honor last night. It was beautiful. I loved the effect it had on Yūgiri. ”
Murasaki was now busy being grandmother to the royal children. She did nothing that might have left her open to charges of bad judgment183. Hers was a perfection, indeed, that was somehow ominous184. It aroused forebodings. The evidence is that such people are not meant to have long lives. Genji had known many women and he knew what a rarity she was. She was thirty-seven this year..
He was thinking over the years they had been together. “You must be especially careful this year. You must overlook none of the prayers and services. I am very busy and sometimes careless, and I must rely on you to keep track of things. If there is something that calls for special arrangements I can give the orders. It is a pity that your uncle, the bishop185, is no longer living. He was the one who really knew about these things.
“I have always been rather spoiled and there can be few precedents186 for the honors I enjoy. The other side of the story is that I have had more than my share of sorrow. The people who have been fond of me have left me behind one after another, and there have been events in more recent years that I think almost anyone would call very sad. As for nagging187 little worries, it almost seems as if I were a collector of them. I sometimes wonder if it might be by way of compensation that I have lived a longer life than I would have expected to. You, on the other hand — I think that except for our years apart you have been spared real worries. There are the troubles that go with the glory of being an empress or one of His Majesty’s other ladies. They are always being hurt by the proud people they must be with and they are engaged in a competition that makes a terrible demand on their nerves. You have lived the life of a cloistered188 maiden, and there is none more comfortable and secure. It is as if you had never left your parents. Have you been aware, my dear, that you have been luckier than most? I know that it has not been easy for you to have the princess move in on us all of a sudden. We sometimes do not notice the things that are nearest to us, and you may not have noticed that her presence has made me fonder of you. But you are quick to see these things, and perhaps I do you an injustice189.”
“You are right, of course. I do not much matter, and it must seem to most people that I have been more fortunate than I deserve. And that my unhappiness should sometimes have seemed almost too much for me — perhaps that is the prayer that has sustained me.” She seemed to be debating whether to go on. He thought her splendid. “I doubt that I have much longer to live. Indeed, I have my doubts about getting through this year if I pretend that no changes are needed. It would make me very happy if you would let me do what I have so long wanted to do.”
“Quite out of the question. Do you think I could go on without you? Not very much has happened these last years, I suppose, but knowing that you are here has been the most important thing. You must see to the end how very much I have loved you.”
It was the usual thing, all over again.
A very little more and she would be in tears, he could see. He changed the subject.
“I have not known enormous numbers of women, but I have concluded that they all have their good points, and that the genuinely calm and equable ones are very rare indeed.
“There was Yūgiri’s mother. I was a mere190 boy when we were married and she was one of the eminences191 in my life, someone I could not think of dismissing. But things never went well. To the end she seemed very remote. It was sad for her, but I cannot convince myself that the fault was entirely192 mine. She was an earnest lady with no faults that one would have wished to single out, but it might be said that she was the cold intellectual, the sort you might turn to for advice and find yourself uncomfortable with.
“There was the Rokujō lady, Akikonomu’s mother. I remember her most of all for her extraordinary subtlety and cultivation193, but she was a difficult lady too, indeed almost impossible to be with. Even when her anger seemed justified194 it lasted too long, and her jealousy was more than a man could be asked to endure. The tensions went on with no relief, and the reservations on both sides made easy companionship quite impossible. I stood too much on my dignity, I suppose. I thought that if I gave in she would gloat and exult195. And so it ended. I could see how the gossip hurt her and how she condemned196 herself for conduct which she thought unworthy of her position, and I could see that difficult though she might be I was at fault myself. It is because I have so regretted what finally happened that I have gone to such trouble for her daughter. I do not claim all the credit, of course. It is obvious that she was meant all along for important things. But I made enemies for myself because of what I did for her, and I like to think that her mother, wherever she is, has forgiven me. I have on the impulse of the moment done many things I have come to regret. It was true long ago and it is true now.” By fits and starts, he spoke197 of his several ladies.
“There is the Akashi lady. I looked down upon her and thought her no more than a plaything. But she has depths. She may seem docile198 and uncomplicated, but there is a firm core underneath199 it all. She is not easily slighted.”
“I was not introduced to the other ladies and can say nothing about them,” replied Murasaki. “I cannot pretend to know very much about the Akashi lady either, but I have had a glimpse of her from time to time, and would agree with you that she has very great pride and dignity. I often wonder if she does not think me a bit of a simpleton. As for your daughter, I should imagine that she forgives me my faults.”
It was affection for the Akashi princess, thought Genji, that had made such good friends of Murasaki and a lady she had once so resented. Yes, she was splendid indeed.
“You may have your little blank spots,” he said, “but on the whole you manage things as the people and the circumstances demand. I have as I have said known numbers of ladies and not one of them has been quite like you. Not” — he smiled — “that you always keep your feelings to yourself.”
In the evening he went off to the main hall. “I must commend the princess for having carried out her instructions so faithfully.”
Immersed in her music, she was as youthful as ever. It did not seem to occur to her that anyone might be less than happy with her presence.
“Let me have a few days off,” said Genji, “and you take a few off too. You have quite satisfied your teacher. You worked hard and the results were worthy of the effort. I have no doubts now about your qualifications.” He pushed the koto aside and lay down.
As always when he was away, Murasaki had her women read stones to her. In the old stories that were supposed to tell what went on in the world, there were men with amorous200 ways and women who had affairs with them, but it seemed to be the rule that in the end the man settled down with one woman. Why should Murasaki herself live in such uncertainty201? No doubt, as Genji had said, she had been unusually fortunate. But were the ache and the scarcely endurable sense of deprivation202 to be with her to the end? She had much to think about and went to bed very late, and towards daylight she was seized with violent chest pains. Her women were immediately at her side. Should they call Genji? Quite out of the question, she replied. Presently it was daylight. She was running a high fever and still in very great pain. No one had gone for Genji. Then a message came from the Akashi princess and she was informed of Murasaki’s illness, and in great trepidation203 sent word to Genji. He immediately returned to Murasaki’s wing of the house, to find her still in great pain.
“And what would seem to be the matter?” He felt her forehead. It was flaming hot.
He was in tenor204, remembering that only the day before he had warned her of the dangerous year ahead. Breakfast was brought but he sent it back. He was at her side all that day, seeing to her needs. She was unable to sit up and refused even the smallest morsel205 of fruit.
The days went by. All manner of prayers and services were commissioned. Priests were summoned to perform esoteric rites179. Though the pain was constant, it would at times be of a vague and generalized sort, and then, almost unbearable206, the chest pains would return. An endless list of abstinences was drawn207 up by the soothsayers, but it did no good. Beside her all the while, Genji was in anguish208, looking for the smallest hopeful sign, the barely perceptible change that can brighten the prospects209 in even the most serious illness. She occupied the whole of his attention. Preparations for the visit to the Suzaku emperor, who sent frequent and courteous210 inquiries211, had been put aside.
The Second Month was over and there was no improvement. Thinking that a change of air might help, Genji moved her to his Nijō mansion. Anxious crowds gathered there and the confusion was enormous. The Reizei emperor was much troubled and Yūgiri even more so. There were others who were in very great disquiet212. Were Murasaki to die, then Genji would almost certainly follow through with his wish to retire from the world. Yūgiri saw to the usual sort of prayers and rites, of course, and extraordinary ones as well.
“Do you remember what I asked for?” Murasaki would say when she was feeling a little more herself. “May I not have it even now?”
“I have longed for many years to do exactly that,” Genji would reply, thinking that to see her even briefly213 in nun’s habit would be as painful as to know that the final time had come. “I have been held back by the thought of what it would mean to you if I were to insist on having my way. Can you now think of deserting me?”
But it did indeed seem that the end might be near. There were repeated crises, each of which could have been the last. Genji no longer saw the Third Princess. Music had lost all interest and koto and flute were put away. Most of the Rokujō household moved to Nijō. At Rokujō, where only women remained, it was as if the fires had gone out. One saw how much of the old life had depended on a single lady.
The Akashi princess was at Genji’s side.
“But whatever I have might take advantage of your condition,” said Murasaki, weak though she was. “Please go back immediately.”
The princess’s little children were with them, the prettiest children imaginable. Murasaki looked at them and wept. “I doubt that I shall be here to see you grow up. I suppose you will forget all about me?”
The princess too was weeping.
“You must not even think of it,” said Genji. “Everything will be all right if only we manage to think so. When we take the broad, easy view we are happy. It may be the destiny of the meaner sort to rise to the top, but the fretful and demanding ones do not stay there very long. It is the calm ones who survive. I could give you any number of instances.”
He described her virtues214 to all the native and foreign gods and told them how very little she had to atone215 for. The venerable sages112 entrusted216 with the grander services and the priests in immediate10 attendance as well, including the ones on night duty, were sorry that they seemed to be accomplishing so little. They turned to their endeavors with new vigor29 and intensity217. For five and six days there would be some improvement and then she would be worse again, and so time passed. How would it all end? The malign218 force that had taken possession of her refused to come forth. She was wasting away from one could not have said precisely219 what ailment220, and there was no relief from the worry and sorrow.
I have been neglecting Kashiwagi. Now a councill
收听单词发音 |
1
unreasonable
|
|
| adj.不讲道理的，不合情理的，过度的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
gathering
|
|
| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
mansion
|
|
| n.大厦，大楼；宅第 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
decided
|
|
| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
hem
|
|
| n.贴边，镶边；vt.缝贴边；(in)包围，限制 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
standing
|
|
| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
fore
|
|
| adv.在前面；adj.先前的；在前部的；n.前部 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
battering
|
|
| n.用坏，损坏v.连续猛击( batter的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
willow
|
|
| n.柳树 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
immediate
|
|
| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
monstrous
|
|
| adj.巨大的；恐怖的；可耻的，丢脸的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
obsession
|
|
| n.困扰，无法摆脱的思想(或情感) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
woes
|
|
| 困境( woe的名词复数 )； 悲伤； 我好苦哇； 某人就要倒霉 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
prudent
|
|
| adj.谨慎的，有远见的，精打细算的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
devastatingly
|
|
| adv. 破坏性地，毁灭性地，极其 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
eminence
|
|
| n.卓越，显赫；高地，高处；名家 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
bestow
|
|
| v.把…赠与，把…授予；花费 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
scampering
|
|
| v.蹦蹦跳跳地跑，惊惶奔跑( scamper的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
disposition
|
|
| n.性情，性格；意向，倾向；排列，部署 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
perfectly
|
|
| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
overtures
|
|
| n.主动的表示，提议；（向某人做出的）友好表示、姿态或提议( overture的名词复数 )；（歌剧、芭蕾舞、音乐剧等的）序曲，前奏曲 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
apprehended
|
|
| 逮捕，拘押( apprehend的过去式和过去分词 )； 理解 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
faculty
|
|
| n.才能；学院，系；(学院或系的)全体教学人员 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
swarms
|
|
| 蜂群，一大群( swarm的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
veranda
|
|
| n.走廊；阳台 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
insistent
|
|
| adj.迫切的，坚持的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
devoted
|
|
| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
advisers
|
|
| 顾问，劝告者( adviser的名词复数 )； （指导大学新生学科问题等的）指导教授 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
vigor
|
|
| n.活力，精力，元气 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
esteem
|
|
| n.尊敬，尊重；vt.尊重，敬重；把…看作 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
odds
|
|
| n.让步，机率，可能性，比率；胜败优劣之别 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
ridicule
|
|
| v.讥讽，挖苦；n.嘲弄 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
spurned
|
|
| v.一脚踢开，拒绝接受( spurn的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
nag
|
|
| v.(对…)不停地唠叨；n.爱唠叨的人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
lucid
|
|
| adj.明白易懂的，清晰的，头脑清楚的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
displeased
|
|
| a.不快的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
maiden
|
|
| n.少女，处女；adj.未婚的，纯洁的，无经验的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
ardor
|
|
| n.热情，狂热 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
flirtation
|
|
| n.调情，调戏，挑逗 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
seclusion
|
|
| n.隐遁，隔离 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
reign
|
|
| n.统治时期，统治，支配，盛行；v.占优势 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
abdicate
|
|
| v.让位，辞职，放弃 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
abdicated
|
|
| 放弃（职责、权力等）( abdicate的过去式和过去分词 )； 退位，逊位 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
smoothly
|
|
| adv.平滑地，顺利地，流利地，流畅地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
chancellor
|
|
| n.(英)大臣；法官；(德、奥)总理；大学校长 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
eldest
|
|
| adj.最年长的，最年老的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
lament
|
|
| n.悲叹，悔恨，恸哭；v.哀悼，悔恨，悲叹 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
lamented
|
|
| adj.被哀悼的，令人遗憾的v.（为…）哀悼，痛哭，悲伤( lament的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
solicitous
|
|
| adj.热切的，挂念的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
nun
|
|
| n.修女，尼姑 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
contemplating
|
|
| 深思，细想，仔细考虑( contemplate的现在分词 )； 注视，凝视； 考虑接受（发生某事的可能性）； 深思熟虑，沉思，苦思冥想 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
vows
|
|
| 誓言( vow的名词复数 )； 郑重宣布，许愿 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
monk
|
|
| n.和尚，僧侣，修道士 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
rustic
|
|
| adj.乡村的，有乡村特色的；n.乡下人，乡巴佬 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
hermit
|
|
| n.隐士，修道者；隐居 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
admiration
|
|
| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
descend
|
|
| vt./vi.传下来，下来，下降 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
58
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： |
|
|
|
|
59
blessing
|
|
| n.祈神赐福；祷告；祝福，祝愿 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
determined
|
|
| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
61
simplicity
|
|
| n.简单，简易；朴素；直率，单纯 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
62
troupe
|
|
| n.剧团，戏班；杂技团；马戏团 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
63
grandees
|
|
| n.贵族，大公，显贵者( grandee的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
64
grooms
|
|
| n.新郎( groom的名词复数 )；马夫v.照料或梳洗（马等）( groom的第三人称单数 )；使做好准备；训练；（给动物）擦洗 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
65
functionaries
|
|
| n.公职人员，官员( functionary的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
66
retinues
|
|
| n.一批随员( retinue的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
67
tune
|
|
| n.调子；和谐，协调；v.调音，调节，调整 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
68
shrine
|
|
| n.圣地，神龛，庙；v.将...置于神龛内，把...奉为神圣 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
69
advent
|
|
| n.(重要事件等的)到来，来临 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
70
flutes
|
|
| 长笛( flute的名词复数 )； 细长香槟杯（形似长笛） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
71
flute
|
|
| n.长笛；v.吹笛 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
72
lute
|
|
| n.琵琶，鲁特琴 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
73
grove
|
|
| n.林子，小树林，园林 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
74
grandeur
|
|
| n.伟大，崇高，宏伟，庄严，豪华 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
75
fabric
|
|
| n.织物，织品，布；构造，结构，组织 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
76
descended
|
|
| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
77
crimson
|
|
| n./adj.深(绯)红色(的)；vi.脸变绯红色 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
78
groves
|
|
| 树丛，小树林( grove的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
79
maples
|
|
| 槭树，枫树( maple的名词复数 )； 槭木 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
80
bleached
|
|
| 漂白的，晒白的，颜色变浅的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
81
splendor
|
|
| n.光彩；壮丽，华丽；显赫，辉煌 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
82
aged
|
|
| adj.年老的，陈年的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
83
sluggish
|
|
| adj.懒惰的，迟钝的，无精打采的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
84
weirdly
|
|
| 古怪地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
85
strands
|
|
| n.（线、绳、金属线、毛发等的）股( strand的名词复数 )；缕；海洋、湖或河的)岸；（观点、计划、故事等的）部份v.使滞留，使搁浅( strand的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
86
musing
|
|
| n. 沉思，冥想 adj. 沉思的, 冥想的 动词muse的现在分词形式 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
87
obeisance
|
|
| n.鞠躬，敬礼 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
88
countless
|
|
| adj.无数的，多得不计其数的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
89
tapestry
|
|
| n.挂毯，丰富多采的画面 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
90
evergreen
|
|
| n.常青树；adj.四季常青的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
91
refreshments
|
|
| n.点心,便餐;(会议后的)简单茶点招 待 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
92
ascetic
|
|
| adj.禁欲的；严肃的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
93
laden
|
|
| adj.装满了的；充满了的；负了重担的；苦恼的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
94
leisurely
|
|
| adj.悠闲的；从容的，慢慢的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
95
meandering
|
|
| 蜿蜒的河流，漫步，聊天 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
96
tiresome
|
|
| adj.令人疲劳的，令人厌倦的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
97
squeal
|
|
| v.发出长而尖的声音；n.长而尖的声音 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
98
dice
|
|
| n.骰子；vt.把（食物）切成小方块，冒险 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
99
vocation
|
|
| n.职业，行业 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
100
sip
|
|
| v.小口地喝，抿，呷；n.一小口的量 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
101
emoluments
|
|
| n.报酬，薪水( emolument的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
102
inevitable
|
|
| adj.不可避免的，必然发生的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
103
worthy
|
|
| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
104
eminent
|
|
| adj.显赫的，杰出的，有名的，优良的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
105
distinguished
|
|
| adj.卓越的，杰出的，著名的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
106
graceful
|
|
| adj.优美的，优雅的；得体的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
107
festive
|
|
| adj.欢宴的，节日的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
108
medleys
|
|
| n.混杂物( medley的名词复数 )；混合物；混杂的人群；混成曲（多首声乐曲或器乐曲串联在一起） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
|
109
seasonal
|
|
| adj.季节的，季节性的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
110
poised
|
|
| a.摆好姿势不动的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
111
defiling
|
|
| v.玷污( defile的现在分词 )；污染；弄脏；纵列行进 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
112
sages
|
|
| n.圣人( sage的名词复数 )；智者；哲人；鼠尾草（可用作调料） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
113
adepts
|
|
| n.专家，能手( adept的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
114
jubilee
|
|
| n.周年纪念；欢乐 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
115
dignified
|
|
| a.可敬的，高贵的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
116
complicate
|
|
| vt.使复杂化，使混乱，使难懂 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
117
rehearsals
|
|
| n.练习( rehearsal的名词复数 )；排练；复述；重复 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
118
strings
|
|
| n.弦 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
119
dabble
|
|
| v.涉足，浅赏 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
120
inviting
|
|
| adj.诱人的，引人注目的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
121
aptitude
|
|
| n.(学习方面的)才能，资质，天资 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
122
stylish
|
|
| adj.流行的，时髦的；漂亮的，气派的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
123
aglow
|
|
| adj.发亮的；发红的；adv.发亮地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
124
magenta
|
|
| n..紫红色（的染料）；adj.紫红色的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
125
overdone
|
|
| v.做得过分( overdo的过去分词 )；太夸张；把…煮得太久；（工作等）过度 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
126
remarkable
|
|
| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
127
elegance
|
|
| n.优雅；优美，雅致；精致，巧妙 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
128
indigo
|
|
| n.靛青，靛蓝 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
129
inadequate
|
|
| adj.(for,to)不充足的，不适当的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
130
tuned
|
|
| adj.调谐的，已调谐的v.调音( tune的过去式和过去分词 )；调整；（给收音机、电视等）调谐；使协调 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
131
mettle
|
|
| n.勇气，精神 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
132
majesty
|
|
| n.雄伟，壮丽，庄严，威严；最高权威，王权 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
133
fragrance
|
|
| n.芬芳，香味，香气 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
134
enchanting
|
|
| a.讨人喜欢的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
135
immature
|
|
| adj.未成熟的，发育未全的，未充分发展的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
136
sedately
|
|
| adv.镇静地，安详地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
137
alluring
|
|
| adj.吸引人的，迷人的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
138
vivacity
|
|
| n.快活，活泼，精神充沛 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
139
professed
|
|
| 公开声称的，伪称的，已立誓信教的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
140
deferentially
|
|
| adv.表示敬意地，谦恭地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
141
labors
|
|
| v.努力争取(for)( labor的第三人称单数 )；苦干；详细分析；（指引擎）缓慢而困难地运转 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
142
lyrics
|
|
| n.歌词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
143
flares
|
|
| n.喇叭裤v.（使）闪耀( flare的第三人称单数 )；（使）（船舷）外倾；（使）鼻孔张大；（使）（衣裙、酒杯等）呈喇叭形展开 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
144
refinement
|
|
| n.文雅；高尚；精美；精制；精炼 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
145
delicacy
|
|
| n.精致，细微，微妙，精良；美味，佳肴 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
146
forth
|
|
| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
147
hue
|
|
| n.色度；色调；样子 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
148
cascade
|
|
| n.小瀑布，喷流；层叠；vi.成瀑布落下 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
149
simile
|
|
| n.直喻，明喻 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
150
grooming
|
|
| n. 修饰, 美容，（动物）梳理毛发 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
151
ineffable
|
|
| adj.无法表达的，不可言喻的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
152
gossamer
|
|
| n.薄纱，游丝 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
153
modesty
|
|
| n.谦逊，虚心，端庄，稳重，羞怯，朴素 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
154
subtlety
|
|
| n.微妙，敏锐，精巧；微妙之处，细微的区别 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
155
immaturity
|
|
| n.不成熟；未充分成长；未成熟；粗糙 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
156
disinterested
|
|
| adj.不关心的，不感兴趣的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
157
prudence
|
|
| n.谨慎，精明，节俭 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
158
chilly
|
|
| adj.凉快的，寒冷的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
159
misty
|
|
| adj.雾蒙蒙的，有雾的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
160
haze
|
|
| n.霾，烟雾；懵懂，迷糊；vi.(over)变模糊 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
161
susceptible
|
|
| adj.过敏的，敏感的；易动感情的，易受感动的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
162
presumptuous
|
|
| adj.胆大妄为的，放肆的，冒昧的，冒失的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
163
minor
|
|
| adj.较小(少)的，较次要的；n.辅修学科；vi.辅修 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
164
confession
|
|
| n.自白，供认，承认 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
165
astonishment
|
|
| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
166
percussion
|
|
| n.打击乐器；冲突，撞击；震动，音响 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
167
softened
|
|
| （使）变软( soften的过去式和过去分词 )； 缓解打击； 缓和； 安慰 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
168
demons
|
|
| n.恶人( demon的名词复数 )；恶魔；精力过人的人；邪念 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
169
conjured
|
|
| 用魔术变出( conjure的过去式和过去分词 )； 祈求，恳求； 变戏法； （变魔术般地） 使…出现 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
170
lore
|
|
| n.传说；学问，经验，知识 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
171
intimidated
|
|
| v.恐吓；威胁adj.害怕的；受到威胁的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
172
obsessed
|
|
| adj.心神不宁的,鬼迷心窍的,沉迷的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
173
infinitely
|
|
| adv.无限地，无穷地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
174
relinquished
|
|
| 交出，让给( relinquish的过去式和过去分词 )； 放弃 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
175
scent
|
|
| n.气味，香味，香水，线索，嗅觉；v.嗅，发觉 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
176
supreme
|
|
| adj.极度的，最重要的；至高的，最高的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
177
lucidity
|
|
| n.明朗，清晰，透明 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
178
attentive
|
|
| adj.注意的，专心的；关心(别人)的，殷勤的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
179
rites
|
|
| 仪式，典礼( rite的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
180
accomplished
|
|
| adj.有才艺的；有造诣的；达到了的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
181
accomplishments
|
|
| n.造诣；完成( accomplishment的名词复数 )；技能；成绩；成就 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
182
jealousy
|
|
| n.妒忌，嫉妒，猜忌 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
183
judgment
|
|
| n.审判；判断力，识别力，看法，意见 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
184
ominous
|
|
| adj.不祥的，不吉的，预兆的，预示的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
185
bishop
|
|
| n.主教，（国际象棋）象 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
186
precedents
|
|
| 引用单元； 范例( precedent的名词复数 )； 先前出现的事例； 前例； 先例 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
187
nagging
|
|
| adj.唠叨的，挑剔的；使人不得安宁的v.不断地挑剔或批评（某人）( nag的现在分词 )；不断地烦扰或伤害（某人）；无休止地抱怨；不断指责 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
188
cloistered
|
|
| adj.隐居的，躲开尘世纷争的v.隐退，使与世隔绝( cloister的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
189
injustice
|
|
| n.非正义，不公正，不公平，侵犯（别人的）权利 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
190
mere
|
|
| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
191
eminences
|
|
| 卓越( eminence的名词复数 )； 著名； 高地； 山丘 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
192
entirely
|
|
| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
193
cultivation
|
|
| n.耕作，培养，栽培（法），养成 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
194
justified
|
|
| a.正当的，有理的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
195
exult
|
|
| v.狂喜，欢腾；欢欣鼓舞 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
196
condemned
|
|
| adj. 被责难的, 被宣告有罪的 动词condemn的过去式和过去分词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
197
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： |
|
|
|
|
198
docile
|
|
| adj.驯服的，易控制的，容易教的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
199
underneath
|
|
| adj.在...下面，在...底下；adv.在下面 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
200
amorous
|
|
| adj.多情的；有关爱情的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
201
uncertainty
|
|
| n.易变，靠不住，不确知，不确定的事物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
202
deprivation
|
|
| n.匮乏；丧失；夺去，贫困 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
203
trepidation
|
|
| n.惊恐，惶恐 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
204
tenor
|
|
| n.男高音（歌手），次中音（乐器），要旨，大意 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
205
morsel
|
|
| n.一口，一点点 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
206
unbearable
|
|
| adj.不能容忍的；忍受不住的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
207
drawn
|
|
| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
208
anguish
|
|
| n.(尤指心灵上的)极度痛苦，烦恼 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
209
prospects
|
|
| n.希望，前途(恒为复数) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
210
courteous
|
|
| adj.彬彬有礼的，客气的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
211
inquiries
|
|
| n.调查( inquiry的名词复数 )；疑问；探究；打听 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
212
disquiet
|
|
| n.担心，焦虑 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
213
briefly
|
|
| adv.简单地，简短地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
214
virtues
|
|
| 美德( virtue的名词复数 )； 德行； 优点； 长处 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
215
atone
|
|
| v.赎罪，补偿 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
216
entrusted
|
|
| v.委托，托付( entrust的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
217
intensity
|
|
| n.强烈，剧烈；强度；烈度 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
218
malign
|
|
| adj.有害的；恶性的；恶意的；v.诽谤，诬蔑 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
219
precisely
|
|
| adv.恰好，正好，精确地，细致地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
220
ailment
|
|
| n.疾病，小病 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |