Dry, his mouth was dry. There was the taste of dust in his mouth. His lips were covered with dust.
Without lifting his head from the floor, he watched the shadow-play. There were the big shadows that moved and stooped, swelled1 and shrank, and fainter ones that ran around the walls and ceiling swiftly, mocking them. There was a shadow in the corner and a shadow on the floor, and neither of these moved.
The back of his head began to hurt. At the same time, what he saw came clear to his mind, in one flash, frozen in an instant: Hare slumped2 in a corner with his head on his knees, Sparrowhawk sprawled4 on his back, a man kneeling over Sparrowhawk, another tossing gold pieces into a bag, a third standing5 watching. The third man held a lantern in one hand and a dagger6 in the other, Arren's dagger.
If they talked, he did not hear them. He heard only his own thoughts, which told him immediately and unhesitatingly what to do. He obeyed them at once. He crawled forward very slowly a couple of feet, darted7 out his left hand and grabbed the bag of loot, leapt to his feet, and made for the stairs with a hoarse8 yell. He plunged10 downstairs in the blind dark without missing a step, without even feeling them under his feet, as if he were flying. He broke out onto the street and ran full-speed into the dark.
The houses were black hulks against the stars. Starlight gleamed faintly on the river to his right, and though he could not see where the streets led, he could make out street-crossings and so turn and double on his track. They had followed him; he could hear them behind him, not very far behind. They were unshod, and their panting breathing was louder than their footfalls. He would have laughed if he had had time; he knew at last what it was like to be the hunted instead of the hunter, the quarry11 instead of the leader of the chase. It was to be alone and to be free. He swerved12 to the right and dodged13 stooping across a high-parapetted bridge, slipped into a side street, around a corner, back to the riverside and along it for a way, across another bridge. His shoes were loud on the cobblestones, the only sound in all the city; he paused at the bridge abutment to unlace them, but the strings14 were knotted, and the hunt had not lost him. The lantern glittered a second across the river; the soft, heavy, running feet came on. He could not get away from them. He could only outrun them; keep going, keep ahead, and get them away from the dusty room, far away...
They had stripped his coat off him, along with his dagger, and he was in shirt-sleeves, light and hot, his head swimming, and the pain in the back of his skull15 pointing and pointing with each stride, and he ran and he ran... The bag hindered him. He flung it down suddenly, a loose gold piece flying out and striking the stones with a clear ring. "Here's your money!" he yelled, his voice hoarse and gasping16. He ran on. And all at once the street ended. No cross-streets, no stars before him, a dead end. Without pausing he turned back and ran at his pursuers. The lantern swung wild in his eyes, and he yelled defiance17 as he came at them.
There was a lantern swinging back and forth18 before him, a faint spot of light in a great, moving greyness. He watched it for a long time. It grew fainter, and at last a shadow passed before it, and when the shadow went on the light was gone. He grieved for it a little; or perhaps he was grieving for himself, because he knew he must wake up now.
The lantern, dead, still swung against the mast to which it was fixed19. All around, the sea brightened with the coming sun. A drum beat. Oars9 creaked heavily, regularly; the wood of the ship cried and creaked in a hundred little voices; a man up in the prow20 called something to the sailors behind him. The men chained with Arren in the after hold were all silent. Each wore an iron band around his waist and manacles on his wrists, and both these bonds were linked by a short, heavy chain to the bonds of the next man; the belt of iron was also chained to a bolt in the deck, so that the man could sit or crouch21, but could not stand. They were too close together to lie down, jammed together in the small cargo-hold. Arren was in the forward port corner. If he lifted his head high, his eyes were on a level with the deck between hold and rail, a couple of feet wide.
He did not remember much of last night past the chase and the dead-end street. He had fought and been knocked down and trussed up and carried somewhere. A man with a strange, whispering voice had spoken; there had been a place like a smithy, a forge-fire leaping red... He could not recall it. He knew, though, that this was a slave-ship, and that he had been taken to be sold.
It did not mean much to him. He was too thirsty. His body ached and his head hurt. When the sun rose the light sent lances of pain into his eyes.
Along in midmorning they were given a quarter-loaf of bread each and a long drink from a leather flask23, held to their lips by a man with a sharp, hard face. His neck was clasped by a broad, gold-studded leather band like a dog's collar, and when Arren heard him speak he recognized the weak, strange, whistling voice.
Drink and food eased his bodily wretchedness for a while and cleared his head. He looked for the first time at the faces of his fellow slaves, three in his row and four close behind. Some sat with tbeir heads on their raised knees; one was slumped over, sick or drugged. The one next to Arren was a fellow of twenty or so with a broad, flat face. "Where are they taking us?" Arren said to him.
The fellow looked at him -their faces were not a foot apart- and grinned, shrugging, and Arren thought he meant he did not know; but then he jerked his manacled arms as if to gesture and opened his still-grinning mouth wide to show, where the tongue should be, only a black root.
"It'll be Showl," said one behind Arren; and another, "Or the Market at Amrun," and then the man with the collar, who seemed to be everywhere on the ship, was bending above the hold, hissing24, "Be still if you don't want to be shark bait," and all of them were still.
Arren tried to imagine these places, Showl, the Market of Amrun. They sold slaves there. They stood them out in front of the buyers, no doubt, like oxen or rams25 for sale in Berila Marketplace. He would stand there wearing chains. Somebody would buy him and lead him home and they would give him an order; and he would refuse to obey. Or obey and try to escape. And he would be killed, one way or the other. It was not that his soul rebelled at the thought of slavery; he was much too sick and bewildered for that. It was simply that he knew he could not do it; that within a week or two he would die or be killed. Though he saw and accepted this as a fact, it frightened him, so that he stopped trying to think ahead. He stared down at the foul26, black planking of the hold between his feet and felt the heat of the sun on his naked shoulders and felt the thirst drying out his mouth and narrowing his throat again.
The sun sank. Night came on clear and cold. The sharp stars came out. The drum beat like a slow heart, keeping the oar-stroke, for there was no breath of wind. Now the cold became the greatest misery27. Arren's back gained a little warmth from the cramped28 legs of the man behind him and his left side from the mute beside him, who sat hunched29 up, humming a grunting30 rhythm all on one note. The rowers changed shift; the drum beat again. Arren had longed for the darkness, but he could not sleep. His bones ached, and he could not change position. He sat aching, shivering, parched31, staring up at the stars, which jerked across the sky with every stroke the oarsmen took, slid to their places, and were still, jerked again, slid, paused...
The man with the collar and another man stood between the after hold and the mast; the little swinging lantern on the mast sent gleams between them and silhouetted32 their heads and shoulders. "Fog, you pig's bladder," said the weak, hateful voice of the man with the collar, "what's a fog doing in the Southing Straits this time of year? Curse the luck!"
The drum beat. The stars jerked, slid, paused. Beside Arren the tongueless man shuddered33 all at once and, raising his head, let out a nightmare scream, a terrible, formless noise. "Quiet there!" roared the second man by the mast. The mute shuddered again and was silent, munching34 with his jaws35.
Stealthily the stars slid forward into nothingness.
The mast wavered and vanished. A cold, grey blanket seemed to drop over Arren's back. The drum faltered36 and then resumed its beat, but slower.
"Thick as curdled37 milk," said the hoarse voice somewhere above Arren. "Keep up the stroke there! There's no shoals for twenty miles!" A horny, scarred foot appeared out of the fog, paused an instant close to Arren's face, then with one step vanished.
In the fog there was no sense of forward motion, only of swaying and the tug38 of the oars. The throb39 of the stroke-drum was muffled40. It was clammy cold. The mist condensing in Arren's hair ran down into his eyes; he tried to catch the drops with his tongue and breathed the damp air with open mouth, trying to assuage41 his thirst. But his teeth chattered42. The cold metal of a chain swung against his thigh43 and burnt like fire where it touched. The drum beat, and beat, and ceased.
It was silent.
"Keep the beat! What's amiss?" roared the hoarse, whistling voice from the prow. No answer came.
The ship rolled a little on the quiet sea. Beyond the dim rails was nothing: blank. Something grated against the ship's side. The noise was loud in that dead, weird44 silence and darkness. "We're aground," one of the prisoners whispered, but the silence closed in on his voice.
The fog grew bright, as if a light were blooming in it. Arren saw the heads of the men chained by him clearly, the tiny moisture-drops shining in their hair. Again the ship swayed, and he strained as far up as his chains would let him, stretching his neck, to see forward in the ship. The fog glowed over the deck like the moon behind thin clouds, cold and radiant. The oarsmen sat like carved statues. Crewmen stood in the waist of the ship, their eyes shining a little. Alone on the port side stood a man, and it was from him that the light came, from the face and hands and staff that burned like molten silver.
At the feet of the radiant man a dark shape was crouched45.
Arren tried to speak and could not. Clothed in that majesty46 of light, the Archmage came to him and knelt down on the deck. Arren felt the touch of his hand and heard his voice. He felt the bonds on his wrists and body give way; all through the hold there was a rattling47 of chains. But no man moved; only
Arren tried to stand, but he could not, being cramped with long immobility. The Archmage's strong grip was on his arm, and with that help he crawled up out of the cargo-hold and huddled48 on the deck.
The Archmage strode away from him, and the misty49 splendor50 glowed on the unmoving faces of the oarsmen. He halted by the man who had crouched down by the port rail.
"I do not punish," said the hard, clear voice, cold as the cold magelight in the fog. "But in the cause of justice, Egre, I take this much upon myself: I bid your voice be dumb until the day you find a word worth speaking."
He came back to Arren and helped him to get to his feet. "Come on now, lad," he said, and with his help Arren managed to hobble forward, and half-scramble, half-fall down into the boat that rocked there below the ship's side: Lookfar, her sail like a moth51's wing in the fog.
In the same silence and dead calm the light died away, and the boat turned and slipped from the ship's side. Almost at once the galley52, the dim mast-lantern, the immobile oarsmen, the hulking black side, were gone. Arren thought he heard voices break out in cries, but the sound was thin and soon lost. A little longer, and the fog began to thin and tatter, blowing by in the dark. They came out under the stars, and silent as a moth Lookfar fled through the clear night over the sea.
Sparrowhawk had covered Arren with blankets and given him water; he sat with his hand on the boy's shoulder when Arren fell suddenly to weeping. Sparrowhawk said nothing, but there was a gentleness, a steadiness, in the touch of his hand. Comfort came slowly into Arren: warmth, the soft motion of the boat, heart's ease.
He looked up at his companion. No unearthly radiance clung to the dark face. He could barely see him against the stars.
The boat fled on, charm-guided. Waves whispered as if in surprise along her sides.
"Who is the man with the collar?"
"Lie still. A sea-robber, Egre. He wears that collar to hide a scar where his throat was slit53 once. It seems his trade has sunk from piracy54 to slaving. But he took the bear's cub55 this time." There was a slight ring of satisfaction in the dry, quiet voice.
"How did you find me?"
"Wizardry, bribery56... I wasted time. I did not like to let it be known that the Archmage and Warden57 of Roke was ferreting about the slums of Hort Town. I wish still I could have kept up my disguise. But I had to track down this man and that man, and when at last I found that the slaver had sailed before daybreak, I lost my temper. I took Lookfar and spoke22 the wind into her sail in the dead calm of the day and glued the oars of every ship in that bay fast into the oarlocks- for a while. How they'll explain that, if wizardry's all lies and air, is their problem. But in my haste and anger I missed and overpassed Egre's ship, which had gone east of south to miss the shoals. Ill done was all I did this day. There is no luck in Hort Town... Well, I made a spell of finding at last, and so came on the ship in the darkness. Should you not sleep now?"
"I'm all right. I feel much better." A light fever had replaced Arren's chill, and he did indeed feel well, his body languid but his mind racing58 lightly from one thing to another. "How soon did you wake up? What happened to Hare?"
"I woke with daylight; and lucky I have a hard head; there's a lump and a cut like a split cucumber behind my ear. I left Hare in the drug-sleep."
"I failed my guard-"
"But not by falling asleep."
"No." Arren hesitated. "It was- I was-"
"You were ahead of me; I saw you," Sparrowhawk said strangely. "And so they crept in and tapped us on the head like lambs at the shambles59, took gold, good clothes, and the salable60 slave, and left. It was you they were after, lad. You'd fetch the price of a farm in Amrun Market."
"They didn't tap me hard enough. I woke up. I did give them a run. I spilt their loot all over the street, too, before they cornered me." Arren's eyes glittered.
"You woke while they were there- and ran? Why?"
"To get them away from you." The surprise in Sparrowhawk's voice suddenly struck Arren's pride, and he added fiercely, "I thought it was you they were after. I thought they might kill you. I grabbed their bag so they'd follow me, and shouted out and ran. And they did follow me."
"Aye- they would!" That was all Sparrowhawk said, no word of praise, though he sat and thought a while. Then he said, "Did it not occur to you I might be dead already?"
"No."
"Murder first and rob after, is the safer course."
"I didn't think of that. I only thought of getting them away from you."
"Why?"
"Because you might be able to defend us, to get us both out of it, if you had time to wake up. Or get yourself out of it, anyway. I was on guard, and I failed my guard. I tried to make up for it. You are the one I was guarding. You are the one that matters. I'm along to guard, or whatever you need- it's you who'll lead us, who can get to wherever it is we must go, and put right what's gone wrong."
"Is it?" said the mage. "I thought so myself, until last night. I thought I had a follower61, but I followed you, my lad." His voice was cool and perhaps a little ironic62. Arren did not know what to say. He was indeed completely confused. He had thought that his fault of falling into sleep or trance on guard could scarcely be atoned63 by his feat64 of drawing off the robbers from Sparrowhawk: it now appeared that the latter had been a silly act, whereas going into trance at the wrong moment had been wonderfully clever.
"I am sorry, my lord," he said at last, his lips rather stiff and the need to cry not easily controlled again, "that I failed you. And you have saved my life-"
"And you mine, maybe," said the mage harshly.
"Who knows? They might have slit my throat when they were done. No more of that, Arren. I am glad you are with me."
He went to their stores-box then and lit their little charcoal65 stove and busied himself with something. Arren lay and watched the stars, and his emotions cooled and his mind ceased racing. And he saw then that what he had done and what he had not done were not going to receive judgment66 from Sparrowhawk. He had done it; Sparrowhawk accepted it as done. "I do not punish," he had said, cold-voiced, to Egre. Neither did he reward. But he had come for Arren in all haste across the sea, unleashing67 the power of his wizardry for his sake; and he would do so again. He was to be depended on.
He was worth all the love Arren had for him, and all the trust. For the fact was that he trusted Arren. What Arren did, was right.
He came back now, handing Arren a cup of steaming hot wine. "Maybe that'll put you to sleep. Take care, it'll scald your tongue."
"Where did the wine come from? I never saw a wineskin aboard-"
"There's more in Lookfar than meets the eye," Sparrowhawk said, sitting down again beside him, and Arren heard him laugh, briefly68 and almost silently, in the dark.
Arren sat up to drink the wine. It was very good, refreshing69 body and spirit. He said, "Where are we going now?"
"Westward."
"Where did you go with Hare?"
"Into the darkness. I never lost him, but he was lost. He wandered on the outer borders, in the endless barrens of delirium70 and nightmare. His soul piped like a bird in those dreary71 places, like a seagull crying far from the sea. He is no guide. He has always been lost. For all his craft in sorcery he has never seen the way before him, seeing only himself."
Arren did not understand all of this; nor did he want to understand it, now. He had been drawn72 a little way into that "darkness" of which wizards spoke, and he did not want to remember it; it was nothing to do with him. Indeed he did not want to sleep, lest he see it again in dream and see that dark figure, a shadow holding out a pearl, whispering, "Come."
"My lord," he said, his mind veering73 away rapidly to another subject, "why-"
"Sleep!" said Sparrowhawk with mild exasperation74. "I can't sleep, my lord. I wondered why you didn't free the other slaves."
"I did. I left none bound on that ship."
"But Egre's men had weapons. If you had bound them-"
"Aye, if I had bound them? There were but six. The oarsmen were chained slaves, like you. Egre and his men may be dead by now, or chained by the others to be sold as slaves; but I left them free to fight or bargain. I am no slavetaker."
"But you knew them to be evil men-"
"Was I to join them therefore? To let their acts rule my own? I will not make their choices for them, nor will I let them make mine for me!"
Arren was silent, pondering this. Presently the mage said, speaking softly, "Do you see, Arren, how an act is not, as young men think, like a rock that one picks up and throws, and it hits or misses, and that's the end of it. When that rock is lifted, the earth is lighter75; the hand that bears it heavier. When it is thrown, the circuits of the stars respond, and where it strikes or falls the universe is changed. On every act the balance of the whole depends. The winds and seas, the powers of water and earth and light, all that these do, and all that the beasts and green things do, is well done, and rightly done. All these act within the Equilibrium76. From the hurricane and the great whale's sounding to the fall of a dry leaf and the gnat's flight, all they do is done within the balance of the whole. But we, insofar as we have power over the world and over one another, we must learn to do what the leaf and the whale and the wind do of their own nature. We must learn to keep the balance. Having intelligence, we must not act in ignorance. Having choice, we must not act without responsibility. Who am I -though I have the power to do it- to punish and reward, playing with men's destinies?"
"But then," the boy said, frowning at the stars, "is the balance to be kept by doing nothing? Surely a man must act, even not knowing all the consequences of his act, if anything is to be done at all?"
"Never fear. It is much easier for men to act than to refrain from acting77. We will continue to do good and to do evil... But if there were a king over us all again and he sought counsel of a mage, as in the days of old, and I were that mage, I would say to him: My lord, do nothing because it is righteous or praiseworthy or noble to do so; do nothing because it seems good to do so; do only that which you must do and which you cannot do in any other way."
There was that in his voice which made Arren turn to watch him as he spoke. He thought that the radiance of light was shining again from his face, seeing the hawk3 nose and the scarred cheek, the dark, fierce eyes. And Arren looked at him with love, but also with fear, thinking, "He is too far above me." Yet as he gazed he became aware at last that it was no magelight, no cold glory of wizardry, that lay shadowless on every line and plane of the man's face, but light itself: morning, the common light of day. There was a power greater than the mage's. And the years had been no kinder to Sparrowhawk than to any man. Those were lines of age, and he looked tired, as the light grew ever stronger. He yawned...
So gazing and wondering and pondering, Arren fell asleep at last. But Sparrowhawk sat by him watching the dawn come and the sun rise, even as one might study a treasure for something gone amiss in it, a jewel flawed, a child sick.
收听单词发音 |
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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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slumped
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| 大幅度下降，暴跌( slump的过去式和过去分词 )； 沉重或突然地落下[倒下] | |
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hawk
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| n.鹰，骗子；鹰派成员 | |
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sprawled
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| v.伸开四肢坐[躺]( sprawl的过去式和过去分词)；蔓延；杂乱无序地拓展；四肢伸展坐着（或躺着） | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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dagger
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| n.匕首，短剑，剑号 | |
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darted
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| v.投掷，投射( dart的过去式和过去分词 )；向前冲，飞奔 | |
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hoarse
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| adj.嘶哑的，沙哑的 | |
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oars
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| n.桨，橹( oar的名词复数 )；划手v.划（行）( oar的第三人称单数 ) | |
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plunged
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| v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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quarry
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| n.采石场；v.采石；费力地找 | |
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swerved
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| v.（使）改变方向，改变目的( swerve的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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dodged
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| v.闪躲( dodge的过去式和过去分词 )；回避 | |
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strings
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| n.弦 | |
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skull
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| n.头骨；颅骨 | |
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gasping
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| adj. 气喘的, 痉挛的 动词gasp的现在分词 | |
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defiance
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| n.挑战，挑衅，蔑视，违抗 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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prow
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| n.(飞机)机头，船头 | |
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crouch
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| v.蹲伏，蜷缩，低头弯腰；n.蹲伏 | |
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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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flask
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| n.瓶，火药筒，砂箱 | |
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hissing
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| n. 发嘶嘶声, 蔑视 动词hiss的现在分词形式 | |
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rams
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| n.公羊( ram的名词复数 )；(R-)白羊（星）座；夯；攻城槌v.夯实（土等）( ram的第三人称单数 )；猛撞；猛压；反复灌输 | |
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foul
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| adj.污秽的；邪恶的；v.弄脏；妨害；犯规；n.犯规 | |
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misery
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| n.痛苦，苦恼，苦难；悲惨的境遇，贫苦 | |
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cramped
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| a.狭窄的 | |
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hunched
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| （常指因寒冷、生病或愁苦）耸肩弓身的，伏首前倾的 | |
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grunting
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| 咕哝的，呼噜的 | |
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parched
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| adj.焦干的；极渴的；v.（使）焦干 | |
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silhouetted
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| 显出轮廓的，显示影像的 | |
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shuddered
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| v.战栗( shudder的过去式和过去分词 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动 | |
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munching
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| v.用力咀嚼（某物），大嚼( munch的现在分词 ) | |
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jaws
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| n.口部；嘴 | |
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faltered
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| （嗓音）颤抖( falter的过去式和过去分词 )； 支吾其词； 蹒跚； 摇晃 | |
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curdled
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| v.（使）凝结( curdle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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tug
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| v.用力拖(或拉)；苦干；n.拖；苦干；拖船 | |
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throb
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| v.震颤，颤动；(急速强烈地)跳动，搏动 | |
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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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assuage
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| v.缓和，减轻，镇定 | |
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chattered
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| （人）喋喋不休( chatter的过去式 )； 唠叨； （牙齿）打战； （机器）震颤 | |
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thigh
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| n.大腿；股骨 | |
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weird
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| adj.古怪的，离奇的；怪诞的，神秘而可怕的 | |
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crouched
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| v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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majesty
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| n.雄伟，壮丽，庄严，威严；最高权威，王权 | |
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47
rattling
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| adj. 格格作响的, 活泼的, 很好的 adv. 极其, 很, 非常 动词rattle的现在分词 | |
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huddled
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| 挤在一起（huddle的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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misty
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| adj.雾蒙蒙的，有雾的 | |
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splendor
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| n.光彩；壮丽，华丽；显赫，辉煌 | |
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moth
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| n.蛾，蛀虫 | |
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galley
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| n.（飞机或船上的）厨房单层甲板大帆船；军舰舰长用的大划艇； | |
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slit
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| n.狭长的切口；裂缝；vt.切开，撕裂 | |
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piracy
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| n.海盗行为，剽窃，著作权侵害 | |
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cub
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| n.幼兽，年轻无经验的人 | |
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bribery
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| n.贿络行为，行贿，受贿 | |
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warden
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| n.监察员，监狱长，看守人，监护人 | |
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racing
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| n.竞赛，赛马；adj.竞赛用的，赛马用的 | |
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shambles
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| n.混乱之处；废墟 | |
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salable
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| adj.有销路的，适销的 | |
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follower
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| n.跟随者；随员；门徒；信徒 | |
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ironic
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| adj.讽刺的，有讽刺意味的，出乎意料的 | |
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atoned
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| v.补偿，赎（罪）( atone的过去式和过去分词 )；补偿，弥补，赎回 | |
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feat
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| n.功绩；武艺，技艺；adj.灵巧的，漂亮的，合适的 | |
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charcoal
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| n.炭，木炭，生物炭 | |
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judgment
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| n.审判；判断力，识别力，看法，意见 | |
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unleashing
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| v.把（感情、力量等）释放出来，发泄( unleash的现在分词 ) | |
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briefly
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| adv.简单地，简短地 | |
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refreshing
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| adj.使精神振作的，使人清爽的，使人喜欢的 | |
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delirium
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| n. 神智昏迷,说胡话;极度兴奋 | |
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dreary
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| adj.令人沮丧的，沉闷的，单调乏味的 | |
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drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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veering
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| n.改变的；犹豫的；顺时针方向转向；特指使船尾转向上风来改变航向v.（尤指交通工具）改变方向或路线( veer的现在分词 )；（指谈话内容、人的行为或观点）突然改变；（指风） （在北半球按顺时针方向、在南半球按逆时针方向）逐渐转向；风向顺时针转 | |
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exasperation
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| n.愤慨 | |
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lighter
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| n.打火机，点火器；驳船；v.用驳船运送；light的比较级 | |
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equilibrium
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| n.平衡，均衡，相称，均势，平静 | |
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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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