E’en as the hind1 pull’d down by strangling dogs
Lies at the hunter’s feet — who courteous2 proffers3
To some high dame4, the Dian of the chase,
To whom he looks for guerdon, his sharp blade,
To gash5 the sobbing6 throat.
The Woodsman.
We are now to return to Mervyn’s Bower7, the apartment, or rather the prison, of the unfortunate Countess of Leicester, who for some time kept within bounds her uncertainty8 and her impatience9. She was aware that, in the tumult10 of the day, there might be some delay ere her letter could be safely conveyed to the hands of Leicester, and that some time more might elapse ere he could extricate11 himself from the necessary attendance on Elizabeth, to come and visit her in her secret bower. “I will not expect him,” she said, “till night; he cannot be absent from his royal guest, even to see me. He will, I know, come earlier if it be possible, but I will not expect him before night.” And yet all the while she did expect him; and while she tried to argue herself into a contrary belief, each hasty noise of the hundred which she heard sounded like the hurried step of Leicester on the staircase, hasting to fold her in his arms.
The fatigue12 of body which Amy had lately undergone, with the agitation13 of mind natural to so cruel a state of uncertainty, began by degrees strongly to affect her nerves, and she almost feared her total inability to maintain the necessary self-command through the scenes which might lie before her. But although spoiled by an over-indulgent system of education, Amy had naturally a mind of great power, united with a frame which her share in her father’s woodland exercises had rendered uncommonly14 healthy. She summoned to her aid such mental and bodily resources; and not unconscious how much the issue of her fate might depend on her own self-possession, she prayed internally for strength of body and for mental fortitude15, and resolved at the same time to yield to no nervous impulse which might weaken either.
Yet when the great bell of the Castle, which was placed in Caesar’s Tower, at no great distance from that called Mervyn’s, began to send its pealing17 clamour abroad, in signal of the arrival of the royal procession, the din18 was so painfully acute to ears rendered nervously19 sensitive by anxiety, that she could hardly forbear shrieking20 with anguish22, in answer to every stunning23 clash of the relentless24 peal16.
Shortly afterwards, when the small apartment was at once enlightened by the shower of artificial fires with which the air was suddenly filled, and which crossed each other like fiery27 spirits, each bent28 on his own separate mission, or like salamanders executing a frolic dance in the region of the Sylphs, the Countess felt at first as if each rocket shot close by her eyes, and discharged its sparks and flashes so nigh that she could feel a sense of the heat. But she struggled against these fantastic terrors, and compelled herself to arise, stand by the window, look out, and gaze upon a sight which at another time would have appeared to her at once captivating and fearful. The magnificent towers of the Castle were enveloped29 in garlands of artificial fire, or shrouded30 with tiaras of pale smoke. The surface of the lake glowed like molten iron, while many fireworks (then thought extremely wonderful, though now common), whose flame continued to exist in the opposing element, dived and rose, hissed31 and roared, and spouted32 fire, like so many dragons of enchantment33 sporting upon a burning lake.
Even Amy was for a moment interested by what was to her so new a scene. “I had thought it magical art,” she said, “but poor Tressilian taught me to judge of such things as they are. Great God! and may not these idle splendours resemble my own hoped-for happiness — a single spark, which is instantly swallowed up by surrounding darkness — a precarious34 glow, which rises but for a brief space into the air, that its fall may be the lower? O Leicester! after all — all that thou hast said — hast sworn — that Amy was thy love, thy life, can it be that thou art the magician at whose nod these enchantments35 arise, and that she sees them as an outcast, if not a captive?”
The sustained, prolonged, and repeated bursts of music, from so many different quarters, and at so many varying points of distance, which sounded as if not the Castle of Kenilworth only, but the whole country around, had been at once the scene of solemnizing some high national festival, carried the same oppressive thought still closer to her heart, while some notes would melt in distant and falling tones, as if in compassion36 for her sorrows, and some burst close and near upon her, as if mocking her misery37, with all the insolence38 of unlimited39 mirth. “These sounds,” she said, “are mine — mine, because they are his; but I cannot say, Be still, these loud strains suit me not; and the voice of the meanest peasant that mingles40 in the dance would have more power to modulate41 the music than the command of her who is mistress of all.”
By degrees the sounds of revelry died away, and the Countess withdrew from the window at which she had sat listening to them. It was night, but the moon afforded considerable light in the room, so that Amy was able to make the arrangement which she judged necessary. There was hope that Leicester might come to her apartment as soon as the revel42 in the Castle had subsided43; but there was also risk she might be disturbed by some unauthorized intruder. She had lost confidence in the key since Tressilian had entered so easily, though the door was locked on the inside; yet all the additional security she could think of was to place the table across the door, that she might be warned by the noise should any one attempt to enter. Having taken these necessary precautions, the unfortunate lady withdrew to her couch, stretched herself down on it, mused44 in anxious expectation, and counted more than one hour after midnight, till exhausted45 nature proved too strong for love, for grief, for fear, nay46, even for uncertainty, and she slept.
Yes, she slept. The Indian sleeps at the stake in the intervals47 between his tortures; and mental torments49, in like manner, exhaust by long continuance the sensibility of the sufferer, so that an interval48 of lethargic50 repose51 must necessarily ensue, ere the pangs52 which they inflict53 can again be renewed.
The Countess slept, then, for several hours, and dreamed that she was in the ancient house at Cumnor Place, listening for the low whistle with which Leicester often used to announce his presence in the courtyard when arriving suddenly on one of his stolen visits. But on this occasion, instead of a whistle, she heard the peculiar54 blast of a bugle-horn, such as her father used to wind on the fall of the stag, and which huntsmen then called a mort. She ran, as she thought, to a window that looked into the courtyard, which she saw filled with men in mourning garments. The old Curate seemed about to read the funeral service. Mumblazen, tricked out in an antique dress, like an ancient herald55, held aloft a scutcheon, with its usual decorations of skulls56, cross-bones, and hour-glasses, surrounding a coat-of-arms, of which she could only distinguish that it was surmounted57 with an Earl’s coronet. The old man looked at her with a ghastly smile, and said, “Amy, are they not rightly quartered?” Just as he spoke58, the horns again poured on her ear the melancholy59 yet wild strain of the mort, or death-note, and she awoke.
The Countess awoke to hear a real bugle-note, or rather the combined breath of many bugles60, sounding not the mort. but the jolly reveille, to remind the inmates61 of the Castle of Kenilworth that the pleasures of the day were to commence with a magnificent stag-hunting in the neighbouring Chase. Amy started up from her couch, listened to the sound, saw the first beams of the summer morning already twinkle through the lattice of her window, and recollected62, with feelings of giddy agony, where she was, and how circumstanced.
“He thinks not of me,” she said; “he will not come nigh me! A Queen is his guest, and what cares he in what corner of his huge Castle a wretch63 like me pines in doubt, which is fast fading into despair?” At once a sound at the door, as of some one attempting to open it softly, filled her with an ineffable64 mixture of joy and fear; and hastening to remove the obstacle she had placed against the door, and to unlock it, she had the precaution to ask! “Is it thou, my love?”
“Yes, my Countess,” murmured a whisper in reply.
She threw open the door, and exclaiming, “Leicester!” flung her arms around the neck of the man who stood without, muffled65 in his cloak.
“No — not quite Leicester,” answered Michael Lambourne, for he it was, returning the caress66 with vehemence67 —“not quite Leicester, my lovely and most loving duchess, but as good a man.”
With an exertion68 of force, of which she would at another time have thought herself incapable69, the Countess freed herself from the profane70 and profaning71 grasp of the drunken debauchee, and retreated into the midst of her apartment. where despair gave her courage to make a stand.
As Lambourne, on entering, dropped the lap of his cloak from his face, she knew Varney’s profligate73 servant, the very last person, excepting his detested74 master, by whom she would have wished to be discovered. But she was still closely muffled in her travelling dress, and as Lambourne had scarce ever been admitted to her presence at Cumnor Place, her person, she hoped, might not be so well known to him as his was to her, owing to Janet’s pointing him frequently out as he crossed the court, and telling stories of his wickedness. She might have had still greater confidence in her disguise had her experience enabled her to discover that he was much intoxicated75; but this could scarce have consoled her for the risk which she might incur76 from such a character in such a time, place, and circumstances.
Lambourne flung the door behind him as he entered, and folding his arms, as if in mockery of the attitude of distraction77 into which Amy had thrown herself, he proceeded thus: “Hark ye, most fair Calipolis — or most lovely Countess of clouts78, and divine Duchess of dark corners — if thou takest all that trouble of skewering79 thyself together, like a trussed fowl81, that there may be more pleasure in the carving82, even save thyself the labour. I love thy first frank manner the best —-like thy present as little”—(he made a step towards her, and staggered)—“as little as — such a damned uneven83 floor as this, where a gentleman may break his neck if he does not walk as upright as a posture-master on the tight-rope.”
“Stand back!” said the Countess; “do not approach nearer to me on thy peril84!”
“My peril!— and stand back! Why, how now, madam? Must you have a better mate than honest Mike Lambourne? I have been in America, girl, where the gold grows, and have brought off such a load on’t —”
“Good friend,” said the Countess, in great terror at the ruffian’s determined85 and audacious manner, “I prithee begone, and leave me.”
“And so I will, pretty one, when we are tired of each other’s company — not a jot86 sooner.” He seized her by the arm, while, incapable of further defence, she uttered shriek21 upon shriek. “Nay, scream away if you like it,” said he, still holding her fast; “I have heard the sea at the loudest, and I mind a squalling woman no more than a miauling kitten. Damn me! I have heard fifty or a hundred screaming at once, when there was a town stormed.”
The cries of the Countess, however, brought unexpected aid in the person of Lawrence Staples87, who had heard her exclamations88 from his apartment below, and entered in good time to save her from being discovered, if not from more atrocious violence. Lawrence was drunk also from the debauch72 of the preceding night, but fortunately his intoxication89 had taken a different turn from that of Lambourne.
“What the devil’s noise is this in the ward25?” he said. “What! man and woman together in the same cell?— that is against rule. I will have decency90 under my rule, by Saint Peter of the Fetters91!”
“Get thee downstairs, thou drunken beast,” said Lambourne; “seest thou not the lady and I would be private?”
“Good sir, worthy92 sir!” said the Countess, addressing the jailer, “do but save me from him, for the sake of mercy!”
“She speaks fairly,” said the jailer, “and I will take her part. I love my prisoners; and I have had as good prisoners under my key as they have had in Newgate or the Compter. And so, being one of my lambkins, as I say, no one shall disturb her in her pen-fold. So let go the woman: or I’ll knock your brains out with my keys.”
“I’ll make a blood-pudding of thy midriff first,” answered Lambourne, laying his left hand on his dagger93, but still detaining the Countess by the arm with his right. “So have at thee, thou old ostrich94, whose only living is upon a bunch of iron keys.”
Lawrence raised the arm of Michael, and prevented him from drawing his dagger; and as Lambourne struggled and strove to shake him off; the Countess made a sudden exertion on her side, and slipping her hand out of the glove on which the ruffian still kept hold, she gained her liberty, and escaping from the apartment, ran downstairs; while at the same moment she heard the two combatants fall on the floor with a noise which increased her terror. The outer wicket offered no impediment to her flight, having been opened for Lambourne’s admittance; so that she succeeded in escaping down the stair, and fled into the Pleasance, which seemed to her hasty glance the direction in which she was most likely to avoid pursuit.
Meanwhile, Lawrence and Lambourne rolled on the floor of the apartment, closely grappled together. Neither had, happily, opportunity to draw their daggers95; but Lawrence found space enough to clash his heavy keys across Michael’s face, and Michael in return grasped the turnkey so felly by the throat that the blood gushed96 from nose and mouth, so that they were both gory97 and filthy98 spectacles when one of the other officers of the household, attracted by the noise of the fray99, entered the room, and with some difficulty effected the separation of the combatants.
“A murrain on you both,” said the charitable mediator100, “and especially on you, Master Lambourne! What the fiend lie you here for, fighting on the floor like two butchers’ curs in the kennel101 of the shambles102?”
Lambourne arose, and somewhat sobered by the interposition of a third party, looked with something less than his usual brazen103 impudence104 of visage. “We fought for a wench, an thou must know,” was his reply.
“A wench! Where is she?” said the officer.
“Why, vanished, I think,” said Lambourne, looking around him, “unless Lawrence hath swallowed her, That filthy paunch of his devours105 as many distressed106 damsels and oppressed orphans107 as e’er a giant in King Arthur’s history. They are his prime food; he worries them body, soul, and substance.”
“Ay, ay! It’s no matter,” said Lawrence, gathering108 up his huge, ungainly form from the floor; “but I have had your betters, Master Michael Lambourne, under the little turn of my forefinger109 and thumb, and I shall have thee, before all’s done, under my hatches. The impudence of thy brow will not always save thy shin-bones from iron, and thy foul110, thirsty gullet from a hempen111 cord.” The words were no sooner out of his mouth, when Lambourne again made at him.
“Nay, go not to it again,” said the sewer112, “or I will call for him shall tame you both, and that is Master Varney — Sir Richard, I mean. He is stirring, I promise you; I saw him cross the court just now.”
“Didst thou, by G—!” said Lambourne, seizing on the basin and ewer80 which stood in the apartment. “Nay, then, element, do thy work. I thought I had enough of thee last night, when I floated about for Orion, like a cork113 on a fermenting114 cask of ale.”
So saying, he fell to work to cleanse115 from his face and hands the signs of the fray, and get his apparel into some order.
“What hast thou done to him?” said the sewer, speaking aside to the jailer; “his face is fearfully swelled116.”
“It is but the imprint117 of the key of my cabinet — too good a mark for his gallows-face. No man shall abuse or insult my prisoners; they are my jewels, and I lock them in safe casket accordingly. — And so, mistress, leave off your wailing118.— Why! why, surely, there was a woman here!”
“I think you are all mad this morning,” said the sewer. “I saw no woman here, nor no man neither in a proper sense, but only two beasts rolling on the floor.”
“Nay, then I am undone,” said the jailer; “the prison’s broken, that is all. Kenilworth prison is broken,” he continued, in a tone of maudlin119 lamentation120, “which was the strongest jail betwixt this and the Welsh Marches — ay, and a house that has had knights121, and earls, and kings sleeping in it, as secure as if they had been in the Tower of London. It is broken, the prisoners fled, and the jailer in much danger of being hanged!”
So saying, he retreated down to his own den26 to conclude his lamentations, or to sleep himself sober. Lambourne and the sewer followed him close; and it was well for them, since the jailer, out of mere122 habit, was about to lock the wicket after him, and had they not been within the reach of interfering123, they would have had the pleasure of being shut up in the turret-chamber, from which the Countess had been just delivered.
That unhappy lady, as soon as she found herself at liberty, fled, as we have already mentioned, into the Pleasance. She had seen this richly-ornamented124 space of ground from the window of Mervyn’s Tower; and it occurred to her, at the moment of her escape, that among its numerous arbours, bowers125, fountains, statues, and grottoes, she might find some recess127 in which she could lie concealed128 until she had an opportunity of addressing herself to a protector, to whom she might communicate as much as she dared of her forlorn situation, and through whose means she might supplicate129 an interview with her husband.
“If I could see my guide,” she thought, “I would learn if he had delivered my letter. Even did I but see Tressilian, it were better to risk Dudley’s anger, by confiding130 my whole situation to one who is the very soul of honour, than to run the hazard of further insult among the insolent131 menials of this ill-ruled place. I will not again venture into an enclosed apartment. I will wait, I will watch; amidst so many human beings there must be some kind heart which can judge and compassionate132 what mine endures.”
In truth, more than one party entered and traversed the Pleasance. But they were in joyous133 groups of four or five persons together, laughing and jesting in their own fullness of mirth and lightness of heart.
The retreat which she had chosen gave her the easy alternative of avoiding observation. It was but stepping back to the farthest recess of a grotto126, ornamented with rustic134 work and moss135-seats, and terminated by a fountain, and she might easily remain concealed, or at her pleasure discover herself to any solitary136 wanderer whose curiosity might lead him to that romantic retirement137. Anticipating such an opportunity, she looked into the clear basin which the silent fountain held up to her like a mirror, and felt shocked at her own appearance, and doubtful at; the same time, muffled and disfigured as her disguise made her seem to herself, whether any female (and it was from the compassion of her own sex that she chiefly expected sympathy) would engage in conference with so suspicious an object. Reasoning thus like a woman, to whom external appearance is scarcely in any circumstances a matter of unimportance, and like a beauty, who had some confidence in the power of her own charms, she laid aside her travelling cloak and capotaine hat, and placed them beside her, so that she could assume them in an instant, ere one could penetrate138 from the entrance of the grotto to its extremity139, in case the intrusion of Varney or of Lambourne should render such disguise necessary. The dress which she wore under these vestments was somewhat of a theatrical140 cast, so as to suit the assumed personage of one of the females who was to act in the pageant141, Wayland had found the means of arranging it thus upon the second day of their journey, having experienced the service arising from the assumption of such a character on the preceding day. The fountain, acting142 both as a mirror and ewer, afforded Amy the means of a brief toilette, of which she availed herself as hastily as possible; then took in her hand her small casket of jewels, in case she might find them useful intercessors, and retiring to the darkest and most sequestered143 nook, sat down on a seat of moss, and awaited till fate should give her some chance of rescue, or of propitiating144 an intercessor.
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1
hind
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| adj.后面的，后部的 | |
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courteous
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| adj.彬彬有礼的，客气的 | |
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proffers
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| v.提供，贡献，提出( proffer的第三人称单数 ) | |
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dame
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| n.女士 | |
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gash
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| v.深切，划开；n.(深长的)切(伤)口；裂缝 | |
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sobbing
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| <主方>Ⅰ adj.湿透的 | |
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bower
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| n.凉亭，树荫下凉快之处；闺房；v.荫蔽 | |
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8
uncertainty
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| n.易变，靠不住，不确知，不确定的事物 | |
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impatience
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| n.不耐烦，急躁 | |
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tumult
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| n.喧哗；激动，混乱；吵闹 | |
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extricate
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| v.拯救，救出；解脱 | |
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fatigue
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| n.疲劳，劳累 | |
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agitation
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| n.搅动；搅拌；鼓动，煽动 | |
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uncommonly
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| adv. 稀罕(极，非常) | |
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15
fortitude
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| n.坚忍不拔；刚毅 | |
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peal
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| n.钟声；v.鸣响 | |
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pealing
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| v.（使）（钟等）鸣响，（雷等）发出隆隆声( peal的现在分词 ) | |
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din
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| n.喧闹声，嘈杂声 | |
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nervously
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| adv.神情激动地，不安地 | |
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shrieking
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| v.尖叫( shriek的现在分词 ) | |
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shriek
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| v./n.尖叫，叫喊 | |
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anguish
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| n.(尤指心灵上的)极度痛苦，烦恼 | |
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stunning
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| adj.极好的；使人晕倒的 | |
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relentless
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| adj.残酷的，不留情的，无怜悯心的 | |
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ward
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| n.守卫，监护，病房，行政区，由监护人或法院保护的人（尤指儿童）；vt.守护，躲开 | |
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den
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| n.兽穴；秘密地方；安静的小房间，私室 | |
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fiery
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| adj.燃烧着的，火红的；暴躁的；激烈的 | |
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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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enveloped
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| v.包围，笼罩，包住( envelop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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shrouded
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| v.隐瞒( shroud的过去式和过去分词 )；保密 | |
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hissed
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| 发嘶嘶声( hiss的过去式和过去分词 )； 发嘘声表示反对 | |
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spouted
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| adj.装有嘴的v.（指液体）喷出( spout的过去式和过去分词 )；滔滔不绝地讲；喋喋不休地说；喷水 | |
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enchantment
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| n.迷惑，妖术，魅力 | |
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precarious
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| adj.不安定的，靠不住的；根据不足的 | |
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enchantments
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| n.魅力( enchantment的名词复数 )；迷人之处；施魔法；着魔 | |
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compassion
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| n.同情，怜悯 | |
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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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insolence
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| n.傲慢；无礼；厚颜；傲慢的态度 | |
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unlimited
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| adj.无限的，不受控制的，无条件的 | |
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mingles
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| 混合，混入( mingle的第三人称单数 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
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modulate
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| v.调整，调节(音的强弱)；变调 | |
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42
revel
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| vi.狂欢作乐，陶醉；n.作乐，狂欢 | |
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subsided
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| v.（土地）下陷（因在地下采矿）( subside的过去式和过去分词 )；减弱；下降至较低或正常水平；一下子坐在椅子等上 | |
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mused
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| v.沉思，冥想( muse的过去式和过去分词 )；沉思自语说（某事） | |
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exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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nay
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| adv.不；n.反对票，投反对票者 | |
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47
intervals
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| n.[军事]间隔( interval的名词复数 )；间隔时间；[数学]区间；（戏剧、电影或音乐会的）幕间休息 | |
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48
interval
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| n.间隔，间距；幕间休息，中场休息 | |
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49
torments
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| （肉体或精神上的）折磨，痛苦( torment的名词复数 )； 造成痛苦的事物[人] | |
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50
lethargic
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| adj.昏睡的，懒洋洋的 | |
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51
repose
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| v.(使)休息；n.安息 | |
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52
pangs
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| 突然的剧痛( pang的名词复数 )； 悲痛 | |
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53
inflict
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| vt.(on)把…强加给，使遭受，使承担 | |
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54
peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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55
herald
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| vt.预示...的来临，预告，宣布，欢迎 | |
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56
skulls
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| 颅骨( skull的名词复数 )； 脑袋； 脑子； 脑瓜 | |
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57
surmounted
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| 战胜( surmount的过去式和过去分词 )； 克服（困难）； 居于…之上； 在…顶上 | |
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58
spoke
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| 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 | |
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59
melancholy
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| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
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60
bugles
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| 妙脆角，一种类似薯片但做成尖角或喇叭状的零食； 号角( bugle的名词复数 )； 喇叭； 匍匐筋骨草； （装饰女服用的）柱状玻璃（或塑料）小珠 | |
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61
inmates
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| n.囚犯( inmate的名词复数 ) | |
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62
recollected
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| adj.冷静的；镇定的；被回忆起的；沉思默想的v.记起，想起( recollect的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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63
wretch
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| n.可怜的人，不幸的人；卑鄙的人 | |
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64
ineffable
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| adj.无法表达的，不可言喻的 | |
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65
muffled
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| adj.（声音）被隔的；听不太清的；（衣服）裹严的；蒙住的v.压抑，捂住( muffle的过去式和过去分词 )；用厚厚的衣帽包着（自己） | |
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66
caress
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| vt./n.爱抚，抚摸 | |
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67
vehemence
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| n.热切；激烈；愤怒 | |
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68
exertion
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| n.尽力，努力 | |
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69
incapable
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| adj.无能力的，不能做某事的 | |
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70
profane
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| adj.亵神的，亵渎的；vt.亵渎，玷污 | |
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71
profaning
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| v.不敬( profane的现在分词 )；亵渎，玷污 | |
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72
debauch
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| v.使堕落，放纵 | |
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73
profligate
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| adj.行为不检的；n.放荡的人，浪子，肆意挥霍者 | |
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74
detested
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| v.憎恶，嫌恶，痛恨( detest的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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75
intoxicated
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| 喝醉的，极其兴奋的 | |
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76
incur
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| vt.招致，蒙受，遭遇 | |
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77
distraction
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| n.精神涣散，精神不集中，消遣，娱乐 | |
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78
clouts
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| n.猛打( clout的名词复数 )；敲打；（尤指政治上的）影响；（用手或硬物的）击v.（尤指用手）猛击，重打( clout的第三人称单数 ) | |
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79
skewering
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| v.（用串肉扦或类似物）串起，刺穿( skewer的现在分词 ) | |
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80
ewer
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| n.大口水罐 | |
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81
fowl
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| n.家禽，鸡，禽肉 | |
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82
carving
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| n.雕刻品，雕花 | |
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83
uneven
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| adj.不平坦的，不规则的，不均匀的 | |
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84
peril
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| n.(严重的)危险；危险的事物 | |
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85
determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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86
jot
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| n.少量；vi.草草记下；vt.匆匆写下 | |
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87
staples
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| n.（某国的）主要产品( staple的名词复数 )；钉书钉；U 形钉；主要部份v.用钉书钉钉住( staple的第三人称单数 ) | |
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88
exclamations
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| n.呼喊( exclamation的名词复数 )；感叹；感叹语；感叹词 | |
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89
intoxication
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| n.wild excitement;drunkenness；poisoning | |
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90
decency
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| n.体面，得体，合宜，正派，庄重 | |
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91
fetters
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| n.脚镣( fetter的名词复数 )；束缚v.给…上脚镣，束缚( fetter的第三人称单数 ) | |
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92
worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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93
dagger
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| n.匕首，短剑，剑号 | |
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94
ostrich
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| n.鸵鸟 | |
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95
daggers
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| 匕首，短剑( dagger的名词复数 ) | |
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96
gushed
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| v.喷，涌( gush的过去式和过去分词 )；滔滔不绝地说话 | |
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97
gory
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| adj.流血的；残酷的 | |
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98
filthy
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| adj.卑劣的；恶劣的，肮脏的 | |
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99
fray
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| v.争吵；打斗；磨损，磨破；n.吵架；打斗 | |
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100
mediator
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| n.调解人，中介人 | |
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101
kennel
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| n.狗舍，狗窝 | |
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102
shambles
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| n.混乱之处；废墟 | |
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103
brazen
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| adj.厚脸皮的，无耻的，坚硬的 | |
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104
impudence
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| n.厚颜无耻；冒失；无礼 | |
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105
devours
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| 吞没( devour的第三人称单数 )； 耗尽； 津津有味地看； 狼吞虎咽地吃光 | |
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106
distressed
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| 痛苦的 | |
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107
orphans
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| 孤儿( orphan的名词复数 ) | |
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108
gathering
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| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
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109
forefinger
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| n.食指 | |
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110
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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111
hempen
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| adj. 大麻制的, 大麻的 | |
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112
sewer
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| n.排水沟，下水道 | |
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113
cork
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| n.软木，软木塞 | |
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114
fermenting
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| v.（使）发酵( ferment的现在分词 )；（使）激动；骚动；骚扰 | |
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115
cleanse
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| vt.使清洁，使纯洁，清洗 | |
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116
swelled
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| 增强( swell的过去式和过去分词 )； 肿胀； （使）凸出； 充满（激情） | |
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117
imprint
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| n.印痕，痕迹；深刻的印象；vt.压印，牢记 | |
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118
wailing
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| v.哭叫，哀号( wail的现在分词 )；沱 | |
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119
maudlin
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| adj.感情脆弱的，爱哭的 | |
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120
lamentation
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| n.悲叹，哀悼 | |
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121
knights
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| 骑士； （中古时代的）武士( knight的名词复数 )； 骑士； 爵士； （国际象棋中）马 | |
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122
mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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123
interfering
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| adj. 妨碍的 动词interfere的现在分词 | |
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124
ornamented
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| adj.花式字体的v.装饰，点缀，美化( ornament的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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125
bowers
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| n.（女子的）卧室( bower的名词复数 )；船首锚；阴凉处；鞠躬的人 | |
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126
grotto
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| n.洞穴 | |
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127
recess
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| n.短期休息，壁凹（墙上装架子，柜子等凹处） | |
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128
concealed
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| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
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129
supplicate
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| v.恳求；adv.祈求地，哀求地，恳求地 | |
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130
confiding
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| adj.相信人的，易于相信的v.吐露（秘密，心事等）( confide的现在分词 )；（向某人）吐露（隐私、秘密等） | |
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131
insolent
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| adj.傲慢的，无理的 | |
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132
compassionate
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| adj.有同情心的，表示同情的 | |
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133
joyous
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| adj.充满快乐的；令人高兴的 | |
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134
rustic
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| adj.乡村的，有乡村特色的；n.乡下人，乡巴佬 | |
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135
moss
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| n.苔，藓，地衣 | |
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136
solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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137
retirement
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| n.退休，退职 | |
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138
penetrate
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| v.透(渗)入；刺入，刺穿；洞察，了解 | |
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139
extremity
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| n.末端，尽头；尽力；终极；极度 | |
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140
theatrical
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| adj.剧场的，演戏的；做戏似的，做作的 | |
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141
pageant
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| n.壮观的游行；露天历史剧 | |
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142
acting
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| n.演戏，行为，假装；adj.代理的，临时的，演出用的 | |
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143
sequestered
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| adj.扣押的；隐退的；幽静的；偏僻的v.使隔绝，使隔离( sequester的过去式和过去分词 )；扣押 | |
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144
propitiating
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| v.劝解，抚慰，使息怒( propitiate的现在分词 ) | |
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