Whilst the battle is raging, the old folks and ladies peep over the battlements, to watch the turns of the combat and the behaviour of the knights1. To princesses in old days, whose lovely hands were to be bestowed2 upon the conqueror4, it must have been a matter of no small interest to know whether the slim young champion with the lovely eyes on the milk-white steed should vanquish5, or the dumpy, elderly, square-shouldered, squinting6, carroty whiskerando of a warrior7 who was laying about him so savagely8; and so in this battle, on the issue of which depended the keeping or losing of poor Philip’s inheritance, there were several non-combatants deeply interested. Or suppose we withdraw the chivalrous9 simile10 (as, in fact, the conduct and views of certain parties engaged in the matter were anything but what we call chivalrous), and imagine a wily old monkey who engages a cat to take certain chestnuts11 out of the fire, and pussy12 putting her paw through the bars, seizing the nut and then dropping it? Jacko is disappointed and angry, shows his sharp teeth, and bites if he dares. When the attorney went down to do battle for Philip’s patrimony13, some of those who wanted it were spectators of the fight, and lurking14 up a tree hard by. When Mr. Bond came forward to try and seize Phil’s chestnuts, there was a wily old monkey who thrust the cat’s paw out, and proposed to gobble up the smoking prize.
If you have ever been at the “Admiral Byng,” you know, my dear madam, that the parlour where the club meets is just behind Mrs. Oves’s bar; so that by lifting up the sash of the window which communicates between the two apartments, that good-natured woman may put her face into the club-room, and actually be one of the society. Sometimes, for company, old Mr. Ridley goes and sits with Mrs. O— in her bar, and reads the paper there. He is slow at his reading. The long words puzzle the worthy15 gentleman. As he has plenty of time to spare, he does not grudge16 it to the study of his paper.
On the day when Mr. Bond went to persuade Mrs. Brandon in Thornhaugh Street to claim Dr. Firmin for her husband, and to disinherit poor Philip, a little gentleman wrapt most solemnly and mysteriously in a great cloak appeared at the bar of the “Admiral Byng,” and said in an aristocratic manner, “You have a parlour; show me to it:” and being introduced to the parlour (where there are fine pictures of Oves, and Mrs. O— , and Spotty-nose, their favourite defunct17 bull-dog), sat down and called for a glass of sherry and a newspaper.
The civil and intelligent potboy of the “Byng” took the party The Advertiser of yesterday (which to-day’s paper was in ‘and); and when the gentleman began to swear over the old paper, Frederick gave it as his opinion to his mistress that the new comer was a harbitrary gent — as, indeed, he was, with the omission18, perhaps, of a single letter; a man who bullied19 everybody who would submit to be bullied. In fact, it was our friend Talbot Twysden, Esq., Commissioner20 of the Powder and Pomatum Office; and I leave those who know him to say whether he is arbitrary or not.
To him presently came that bland21 old gentleman, Mr. Bond, who also asked for a parlour and some sherry and water; and this is how Philip and his veracious22 and astute23 biographer came to know for a certainty that dear uncle Talbot was the person who wished to — to have Philip’s chestnuts.
Mr. Bond and Mr. Twysden had been scarcely a minute together, when such a storm of imprecations came clattering25 through the glass-window which communicates with Mrs. Oves’s bar, that I daresay they made the jugs26 and tumblers clatter24 on the shelves, and Mr. Ridley, a very modest-spoken man, reading his paper, lay it down with a scared face, and say, “Well, I never.” Nor did he often, I dare to say.
This volley was fired by Talbot Twysden, in consequence of his rage at the news which Mr. Bond brought him.
“Well, Mr. Bond; well, Mr. Bond! What does she say?” he asked of his emissary.
“She will have nothing to do with the business, Mr. Twysden. We can’t touch it; and I don’t see how we can move her. She denies the marriage as much as Firmin does: says she knew it was a mere27 sham28 when the ceremony was performed.”
“Sir you didn’t bribe29 her enough,” shrieked30 Mr. Twysden. “You have bungled31 this business; by George, you have, sir.”
“Go and do it yourself, sir, if you are not ashamed to appear in it,” says the lawyer. “You don’t suppose I did it because I liked it; or want to take that poor young fellow’s inheritance from him, as you do?”
“I wish justice and the law, sir. If I were wrongfully detaining his property I would give it up. I would be the first to give it up. I desire justice and law, and employ you because you are a law agent. Are you not?”
“And I have been on your errand, and shall send in my bill in due time; and there will be an end of my connection with you as your law agent, Mr. Twysden,” cried the old lawyer.
“You know, sir, how badly Firmin acted to me in the last matter.”
“Faith, sir, if you ask my opinion as a law agent, I don’t think there was much to choose between you. How much is the sherry and water? — keep the change. Sorry I’d no better news to bring you, Mr. T., and as you are dissatisfied, again recommend you to employ another law agent.”
“My good sir, I— ”
“My good sir, I have had other dealings with your family, and am no more going to put up with your highti-tightiness than I would with Lord Ringwood’s , when I was one of his law agents. I am not going to tell Mr. Philip Firmin that his uncle and aunt propose to ease him of his property; but if anybody else does — that good little Mrs. Brandon — or that old goose Mr. Whatdyoucallem, her father — I don’t suppose he will be over well pleased. I am speaking as a gentleman now, not as a law agent. You and your nephew had each a half share of Mr. Philip Firmin’s grand-father’s property, and you wanted it all, that’s the truth, and set a law agent to get it for you; and swore at him because he could not get it from its right owner. And so, sir, I wish you a good morning, and recommend you to take your papers to some other agent, Mr. Twysden.” And with this, exit Mr. Bond. And now, I ask you, if that secret could be kept which was known through a trembling glass-door to Mrs. Oves of the “Admiral Byng,” and to Mr. Ridley, the father of J. J., and the obsequious32 husband of Mrs. Ridley.? On that very afternoon, at tea-time, Mrs. Ridley was made acquainted by her husband (in his noble and circumlo cutory manner) with the conversation which he had overheard. It was agreed that an embassy should be sent to J. J. on the business, and his advice taken regarding it; and J. J.’s opinion was that the conversation certainly should be reported to Mr. Philip Firmin, who might afterwards act upon it as he should think best.
What? His own aunt, cousins, and uncle agreed in a scheme to overthrow33 his legitimacy34, and deprive him of his grandfather’s inheritance? It seemed impossible. Big with the tremendous news, Philip came to his adviser35, Mr. Pendennis, of the Temple, and told him what had occurred on the part of father, uncle, and Little Sister. Her abnegation had been so noble, that you may be sure Philip appreciated it; and a tie of friendship was formed between the young man and the little lady even more close and tender than that which had bound them previously36. But the Twysdens, his kinsfolk, to employ a lawyer in order to rob him of his inheritance! — Oh, it was dastardly! Philip bawled37 and stamped, and thumped38 his sense of the wrong in his usual energetic manner. As for his cousin Ringwood Twysden, Phil had often entertained a strong desire to wring39 his neck and pitch him downstairs. As for uncle Talbot: that he is an old pump, that he is a pompous40 old humbug41, and the queerest old sycophant42, I grant you; but I couldn’t have believed him guilty of this. And as for the girls — oh, Mrs. Pendennis, you who are good, you who are kind, although you hate them, I know you do — you can’t say, you won’t say, that they were in the conspiracy43?
“But suppose Twysden was asking only for what he conceives to be his rights?” asked Mr. Pendennis. “Had your father been married to Mrs. Brandon, you would not have been Dr. Firmin’s legitimate44 son. Had you not been his legitimate son, you had no right to a half-share of your grandfather’s property. Uncle Talbot acts only the part of honour and justice in the transaction. He is Brutus, and he orders you off to death, with a bleeding heart.”
“And he orders his family out of the way,” roars Phil, “so that they mayn’t be pained by seeing the execution! I see it all now. I wish somebody would send a knife through me at once, and put an end to me. I see it all now. Do you know that for the last week I have been to Beaunash Street, and found nobody? Agnes had the bronchitis, and her mother was attending to her; Blanche came for a minute or two, and was as cool — as cool as I have seen Lady Iceberg46 be cool to her. Then they must go away for change of air. They have been gone these three days: whilst uncle Talbot and that viper47 of a Ringwood have been closeted with that nice new friend, Mr. Hunt. O conf — ! I beg your pardon, ma’am; but I know you always allow for the energy of my language.”
“I should like to see that Little Sister, Mr. Firmin. She has not been selfish, or had any scheme but for your good,” remarks my wife.
“A little angel who drops her h’s — a little heart, so good and tender that I melt as I think of it,” says Philip, drawing his big hand over his eyes. “What have men done to get the love of some women? We don’t earn it; we don’t deserve it, perhaps. We don’t return it. They bestow3 it on us. I have given nothing back for all this love and kindness, but I look a little like my father of old days, for whom — for whom she had an attachment48. And see now how she would die to serve me! You are wonderful, women are! your fidelities49 and your ficklenesses alike marvellous. What can any woman have found to adore in the doctor? Do you think my father could ever have been adorable, Mrs. Pendennis? And yet I have heard my poor mother say she was obliged to marry him. She knew it was a bad match, but she couldn’t resist it. In what was my father so irresistible50? He is not to my taste. Between ourselves, I think he is a — well, never mind what.”
“I think we had best not mind what,” says my wife, with a smile.
“Quite right — quite right; only I blurt51 out everything that is on my mind. Can’t keep it in,” cries Phil, gnawing52 his mustachios. “If my fortune depended on my silence I should be a beggar, that’s the fact. And, you see, if you had such a father as mine, you yourself would find it rather difficult to hold your tongue about him. But now, tell me: this ordering away of the girls and aunt Twysden, whilst the little attack upon my property is being carried on — isn’t it queer?”
“The question is at an end,” said Mr. Pendennis. “You are restored to your atavis regibus and ancestral honours. Now that uncle Twysden can’t get the property without you, have courage, my boy — he may take it, along with the encumbrance53.”
Poor Phil had not known — but some of us, who are pretty clear-sighted when our noble selves are not concerned, had perceived that Philip’s dear aunt was playing fast and loose with the lad, and when his back was turned was encouraging a richer suitor for her daughter.
Hand on heart I can say of my wife, that she meddles54 with her neighbours as little as any person I ever knew; but when treacheries in love affairs are in question, she fires up at once, and would persecute56 to death almost the heartless male or female criminal who would break love’s sacred laws. The idea of a man or woman trifling57 with that holy compact awakens58 in her a flame of indignation. In curtain confidences (of which let me not vulgarize the arcana), she had given me her mind about some of Miss Twysden’s behaviour with that odious59 blackamoor, as she chose to call Captain Woolcomb, who, I own, had a very slight tinge61 of complexion62; and when, quoting the words of Hamlet regarding his father and, mother, I asked, “Could she on this fair mountain leave to feed, and batten on this Moor60?” Mrs. Pendennis cried out that this matter was all too serious for jest, and wondered how her husband could make word-plays about it. Perhaps she has not the exquisite63 sense of humour possessed64 by some folks; or is it that she has more reverence65? In her creed66, if not in her church, marriage is a sacrament; and the fond believer never speaks of it without awe67.
Now, as she expects both parties to the marriage engagement to keep that compact holy, she no more understands trifling with it than she could comprehend laughing and joking in a church. She has no patience with flirtations as they are called. “Don’t tell me, sir,” says the enthusiast68, “a light word between a man and a married woman ought not to be permitted.” And this is why she is harder on the woman than the man, in cases where such dismal69 matters happen to fall under discussion. A look, a word from a woman, she says, will check a libertine70 thought or word in a man; and these cases might be stopped at once if the woman but showed the slightest resolution. She is thus more angry (I am only mentioning the peculiarities71, not defending the ethics73 of this individual moralist) — she is, I say, more angrily disposed towards the woman than the man in such delicate cases; and, I am afraid, considers that women are for the most part only victims because they choose to be so.
Now, we had happened during this season to be at several entertainments, routs74, and so forth75, where poor Phil, owing to his unhappy Bohemian preferences and love of tobacco, was not present — and where we saw Miss Agnes Twysden carrying on such a game with the tawny76 Woolcomb, as set Mrs. Laura in a tremor77 of indignation. What though Agnes’s blue-eyed mamma sat near her blue-eyed daughter and kept her keen clear orbs78 perfectly79 wide open and cognizant of all that happened? So much the worse for her, the worse for both. It was a shame and a sin that a Christian80 English mother should suffer her daughter to deal lightly with the most holy, the most awful of human contracts; should be preparing her child who knows for what after misery81 of mind and soul. Three months ago, you saw how she encouraged poor Philip, and now see her with this mulatto!
“Is he not a man and a brother, my dear?” perhaps at this Mr. Pendennis interposes.
“Oh, for shame, Pen, no levity82 on this — no sneers83 and laughter on this the most sacred subject of all.” And here, I daresay, the woman falls to caressing84 her own children and hugging them to her heart as her manner was when moved. Que voulez-vous? There are some women in the world to whom love and truth are all in all here below. Other ladies there are who see the benefit of a good jointure, a town and country house, and so forth, and who are not so very particular as to the character, intellect, or complexion of gentlemen who are in a position to offer their dear girls these benefits. In fine, I say that regarding this blue-eyed mother and daughter, Mrs. Laura Pendennis was in such a state of mind, that she was ready to tear their blue eyes out.
Nay85, it was with no little difficulty that Mrs. Laura could be induced to hold her tongue upon the matter and not give Philip her opinion. “What?” she would ask, “the poor young man is to be deceived and cajoled; to be taken or left as it suits these people; to be made miserable86 for life certainly if she marries him; and his friends are not to dare to warn him? The cowards! The cowardice87 of you men, Pen, upon matters of opinion, of you masters and lords of creation, is really despicable, sir! You dare not have opinions, or holding them you dare not declare them, and act by them. You compromise with crime every day because you think it would be officious to declare yourself and interfere88. You are not afraid of outraging89 morals, but of inflicting90 ennui91 upon society, and losing your popularity. You are as cynical92 as — as, what was the name of the horrid93 old man who lived in the tub — Demosthenes? — well, Diogenes, then, and the name does not matter a pin, sir. You are as cynical, only you wear fine ruffled94 shirts and wristbands, and you carry your lantern dark. It is not right to ‘put your oar45 in,’ as you say in your jargon95 (and even your slang is a sort of cowardice, sir, for you are afraid to speak the feelings of your heart:— ) it is not right to meddle55 and speak the truth, not right to rescue a poor soul who is drowning — of course not. What call have you fine gentlemen of the world to put your oar in? Let him perish! What did he in that galley96? That is the language of the world, baby darling. And, my poor, poor child, when you are sinking, nobody is to stretch out a hand to save you!” As for that wife of mine, when she sets forth the maternal97 plea, and appeals to the exuberant98 school of philosophers, I know there is no reasoning with her. I retire to my books, and leave her to kiss out the rest of the argument over the children.
Philip did not know the extent of the obligation which he owed to his little friend and guardian99, Caroline; but he was aware that he had no better friend than herself in the world; and, I daresay, returned to her, as the wont100 is in such bargains between man and woman — woman and man, at least — a sixpence for that pure gold treasure, her sovereign affection. I suppose Caroline thought her sacrifice gave her a little authority to counsel Philip; for she it was who, I believe, first bid him to inquire whether that engagement which he had virtually contracted with his cousin was likely to lead to good, and was to be binding101 upon him but not on her? She brought Ridley to add his doubts to her remonstrances102. She showed Philip that not only his uncle’s conduct, but his cousin’s, was interested, and set him to inquire into it further.
That peculiar72 form of bronchitis under which poor dear Agnes was suffering was relieved by absence from London. The smoke, the crowded parties and assemblies, the late hours, and, perhaps, the gloom of the house in Beaunash Street, distressed103 the poor dear child; and her cough was very much soothed104 by that fine, cutting east wind, which blows so liberally along the Brighton cliffs, and which is so good for coughs, as we all know. But there was one fault in Brighton which could not be helped in her bad case; it is too near London. The air, that chartered libertine, can blow down from London quite easily; or people can come from London to Brighton, bringing, I dare say, the insidious105 London fog along with them. At any rate, Agnes, if she wished for quiet, poor thing, might have gone farther and fared better. Why, if you owe a tailor a bill, he can run down and present it in a few hours. Vulgar, inconvenient106 acquaintances thrust themselves upon you at every moment and corner. Was ever such a tohubohu of people as there assembles? You can’t be tranquil107, if you will. Organs pipe and scream without cease at your windows. Your name is put down in the papers when you arrive; and everybody meets everybody ever so many times a day.
On finding that his uncle had set lawyers to work, with the charitable purpose of ascertaining108 whether Philip’s property was legitimately109 his own, Philip was a good deal disturbed in mind. He could not appreciate that high sense of moral obligation by which Mr. Twysden was actuated. At least, he thought that these inquiries110 should not have been secretly set a-foot; and as he himself was perfectly open — a great deal too open, perhaps — in his words and his actions, he was hard with those who attempted to hoodwink or deceive him.
It could not be; ah! no, it never could be, that Agnes the pure and gentle was privy111 to this conspiracy. But then, how very — very often of late she had been from home; how very, very cold aunt Twysden’s shoulder had somehow become. Once, when he reached the door, a fishmonger’s boy was leaving a fine salmon112 at the kitchen, — a salmon and a tub of ice. Once, twice, at five o’clock, when he called, a smell of cooking pervaded113 the hall, — that hall which culinary odours very seldom visited. Some of those noble Twysden dinners were on the tapis, and Philip was not asked. Not to be asked. was no great deprivation114; but who were the guests? To be sure, these were trifles light as air; but Philip smelt115 mischief116 in the steam of those Twysden dinners. He chewed that salmon with a bitter sauce as he saw it sink down the area steps and disappear (with its attendant lobster) in the dark kitchen regions.
Yes; eyes were somehow averted117 that used to look into his very frankly118; a glove somehow had grown over a little hand which once used to lie very comfortably in his broad palm. Was anybody else going to seize it, and was it going to paddle in that blackamoor’s unblest fingers? Ah! fiends and tortures! a gentleman may cease to love, but does he like a woman to cease to love him? People carry on ever so long for fear of that declaration that all is over. No confession119 is more dismal to make. The sun of love has set. We sit in the dark — I mena you, dear madam, and Corydon, or I and Amaryllis — uncomfortabley, with nothing more to say to one another; with the night dew falling, and a risk of catching120 cold, drearily121 contemplating122 the fading west, with “the cold remains123 of lustre124 gone, of fire long past away.” Sink, fire of love! Rise, gentle moon, and mists of chilly125 evening. And, my good Madam Amaryllis, let us go home to some tea and a fire.
So Philip determined126 to go and seek his cousin. Arrived at his hotel (and if it were the — I can’t conceive Philip in much better quarters), he had the opportunity of inspecting those delightful127 newspaper arrivals, a perusal128 of which has so often edified129 us at Brighton. Mr. and Mrs. Penfold, he was informed, continued their residence, No. 96, Horizontal Place; and it was with those guardians130 he knew his Agnes was staying. He speeds to Horizontal Place. Miss Twysden is out. He heaves a sigh, and leaves a card. Has it ever happened to you to leave a card at that house — that house which was once THE house — almost your own; where you were ever welcome; where the kindest hand was ready to grasp yours, the brightest eye to greet you? And now your friendship has dwindled131 away to a little bit of pasteboard, shed once a year, and poor dear Mrs. Jones (it is with J. you have quarrelled) still calls on the ladies of your family and slips her husband’s ticket upon the hall table. O life and time, that it should have come to this! O gracious powers! Do you recal the time when Arabella Briggs was Arabella Thompson? You call and talk fadaises to her (at first she is rather nervous, and has the children in); you talk rain and fine weather; the last novel; the next party. Thompson in the City? Yes, Mr. Thompson is in the City. He’s pretty well, thank you. Ah! Daggers132, ropes, and poisons, has it come to this? You are talking about the weather, and another man’s health, and another man’s children, of which she is mother, to her? Time was the weather, was all a burning sunshine, in which you and she basked133; or if clouds gathered, and a storm fell, such a glorious rainbow haloed round you, such delicious tears fell and refreshed you, that the storm was more ravishing than the calm. And now another man’s children are sitting on her knee — their mother’s knee; and once a year Mr. and Mrs. John Thompson request the honour of Mr. Brown’s company at dinner; and once a year you read in The Times, “In Nursery Street, the wife of J. Thompson, Esq., of a Son.” To come to the once-beloved one’s door, and find the knocker tied up with a white kid glove, is humiliating — say what you will, it is humiliating.
Philip leaves his card, and walks on to the Cliff, and of course, in three minutes, meets Clinker. Indeed, who ever went to Brighton for half an hour without meeting Clinker?
“Father pretty well? His old patient, Lady Geminy, is down here with the children; what a number of them there are, to be sure! Come to make any stay? See your cousin, Miss Twysden, is here with the Penfolds. Little party at the Grigsons’ last night; she looked uncommonly134 well; danced ever so many times with the Black Prince, Woolcomb of the Greens. Suppose I may congratulate you. Six thousand five hundred a year now, and thirteen thousand when his grandmother dies; but those negresses live for ever. I suppose the thing is settled. I saw them on the pier135 just now, and Mrs. Penfold was reading a book in the arbour. Book of sermons it was — pious136 woman, Mrs. Penfold. I dare say they are on the pier still.” Striding with hurried steps Philip Firmin makes for the pier. The breathless Clinker cannot keep alongside of his face. I should like to have seen it when Clinker said that “the thing” was settled between Miss Twysden and the cavalry137 gentleman.
There were a few nursery governesses, maids, and children, paddling about at the end of the pier; and there was a fat woman reading a book in one of the arbours — but no Agnes, no Woolcomb. Where can they be? Can they be weighing each other? or buying those mad pebbles138, which people are known to purchase? or having their silhouettes139 done in black? Ha! ha! Woolcomb would hardly have his face done in black. The idea would provoke odious comparisons. I see Philip is in a dreadfully bad sarcastic140 humour.
Up there comes from one of those trap-doors which lead down from the pier-head to the green sea-waves ever restlessly jumping below — up there comes a little Skye-terrier dog with a red collar, who, as soon as she sees Philip, sings, squeaks141, whines142, runs, jumps, flumps up on him, if I may use the expression, kisses his hands, and with eyes, tongue, paws, and tail shows him a thousand marks of welcome and affection. What, Brownie, Brownie! Philip is glad to see the dog, an old friend who has many a time licked his hand and bounced upon his knee.
The greeting over, Brownie, wagging her tail with prodigious143 activity, trots144 before Philip — trots down an opening, down the steps under which the waves shimmer145 greenly, and into quite a quiet remote corner just over the water, whence you may command a most beautiful view of the sea, the shore, the Marine146 Parade, and the Albion Hotel, and where, were I five-and-twenty say, with nothing else to do, I would gladly pass a quarter of an hour talking about Glaucus or the Wonders of the Deep with the object of my affections.
Here, amongst the labyrinth147 of piles, Brownie goes flouncing along till she comes to a young couple who are looking at the view just described. In order to view it better, the young man has laid his hand, a pretty little hand most delicately gloved, on the lady’s hand; and Brownie comes up and nuzzles against her, and whines and talks, as much as to say, “Here’s somebody,” and the lady says, “Down, Brownie, miss.”
“It’s no good, Agnes, that dog,” says the gentleman (he has very curly, not to say woolly hair, under his natty148 little hat). “I’ll give you a pug with a nose you can hang your hat on. I do know of one now. My man Rummins knows of one. Do you like pugs?”
“I adore them,” says the lady.
“I’ll give you one, if I have to pay fifty pounds for it. And they fetch a good figure, the real pugs do, I can tell you. Once in London there was an exhibition of ’em, and — ”
“Brownie, Brownie, down!” cries Agnes. The dog was jumping at a gentleman, a tall gentleman with red mustachios and beard, who advances through the chequered shade, under the ponderous149 beams, over the translucent150 sea.
“Pray don’t mind, Brownie won’t hurt me,” says a perfectly well-known voice, the sound of which sends all the colours shuddering151 out of Miss Agnes’ pink cheeks.
“You see I gave my cousin this dog, Captain Woolcomb,” says the gentleman; “and the little slut remembers me. Perhaps Miss Twysden likes the pug better.”
“Sir!”
“If it has a nose you can hang your hat on, it must be a very pretty dog, and I suppose you intend to hang your hat on it a good deal.”
“Oh, Philip!” says the lady; but an attack of that dreadful coughing stops further utterance152.
收听单词发音 |
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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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bestowed
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| 赠给，授予( bestow的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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bestow
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| v.把…赠与，把…授予；花费 | |
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conqueror
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| n.征服者，胜利者 | |
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vanquish
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| v.征服，战胜；克服；抑制 | |
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squinting
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| 斜视( squint的现在分词 )； 眯着眼睛； 瞟； 从小孔或缝隙里看 | |
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warrior
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| n.勇士，武士，斗士 | |
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savagely
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| adv. 野蛮地，残酷地 | |
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chivalrous
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| adj.武士精神的；对女人彬彬有礼的 | |
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simile
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| n.直喻，明喻 | |
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chestnuts
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| n.栗子( chestnut的名词复数 )；栗色；栗树；栗色马 | |
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pussy
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| n.(儿语)小猫，猫咪 | |
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patrimony
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| n.世袭财产，继承物 | |
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lurking
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| 潜在 | |
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worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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grudge
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| n.不满，怨恨，妒嫉；vt.勉强给，不情愿做 | |
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17
defunct
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| adj.死亡的；已倒闭的 | |
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18
omission
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| n.省略，删节；遗漏或省略的事物，冗长 | |
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19
bullied
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| adj.被欺负了v.恐吓，威逼( bully的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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commissioner
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| n.（政府厅、局、处等部门）专员，长官，委员 | |
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21
bland
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| adj.淡而无味的，温和的，无刺激性的 | |
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22
veracious
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| adj.诚实可靠的 | |
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23
astute
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| adj.机敏的，精明的 | |
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24
clatter
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| v./n.(使)发出连续而清脆的撞击声 | |
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25
clattering
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| 发出咔哒声（clatter的现在分词形式） | |
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26
jugs
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| （有柄及小口的）水壶( jug的名词复数 ) | |
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27
mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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28
sham
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| n./adj.假冒(的)，虚伪(的) | |
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29
bribe
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| n.贿赂；v.向…行贿，买通 | |
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30
shrieked
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| v.尖叫( shriek的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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31
bungled
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| v.搞糟，完不成( bungle的过去式和过去分词 )；笨手笨脚地做；失败；完不成 | |
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32
obsequious
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| adj.谄媚的，奉承的，顺从的 | |
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33
overthrow
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| v.推翻，打倒，颠覆；n.推翻，瓦解，颠覆 | |
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34
legitimacy
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| n.合法，正当 | |
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35
adviser
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| n.劝告者，顾问 | |
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36
previously
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| adv.以前，先前（地） | |
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37
bawled
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| v.大叫，大喊( bawl的过去式和过去分词 )；放声大哭；大声叫出；叫卖（货物） | |
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38
thumped
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| v.重击， （指心脏）急速跳动( thump的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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39
wring
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| n.扭绞；v.拧，绞出，扭 | |
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40
pompous
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| adj.傲慢的，自大的；夸大的；豪华的 | |
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41
humbug
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| n.花招，谎话，欺骗 | |
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42
sycophant
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| n.马屁精 | |
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43
conspiracy
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| n.阴谋，密谋，共谋 | |
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44
legitimate
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| adj.合法的，合理的，合乎逻辑的；v.使合法 | |
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45
oar
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| n.桨，橹，划手；v.划行 | |
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46
iceberg
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| n.冰山，流冰，冷冰冰的人 | |
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47
viper
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| n.毒蛇；危险的人 | |
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48
attachment
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| n.附属物，附件；依恋；依附 | |
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49
fidelities
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| 忠诚，忠实（fidelity的复数形式） | |
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50
irresistible
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| adj.非常诱人的，无法拒绝的，无法抗拒的 | |
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51
blurt
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| vt.突然说出，脱口说出 | |
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52
gnawing
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| a.痛苦的，折磨人的 | |
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53
encumbrance
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| n.妨碍物，累赘 | |
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54
meddles
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| v.干涉，干预（他人事务）( meddle的第三人称单数 ) | |
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55
meddle
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| v.干预，干涉，插手 | |
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56
persecute
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| vt.迫害，虐待；纠缠，骚扰 | |
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57
trifling
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| adj.微不足道的；没什么价值的 | |
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58
awakens
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| v.（使）醒( awaken的第三人称单数 )；（使）觉醒；弄醒；（使）意识到 | |
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59
odious
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| adj.可憎的，讨厌的 | |
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60
moor
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| n.荒野，沼泽；vt.(使)停泊；vi.停泊 | |
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61
tinge
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| vt.(较淡)着色于，染色；使带有…气息；n.淡淡色彩，些微的气息 | |
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62
complexion
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| n.肤色；情况，局面；气质，性格 | |
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63
exquisite
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| adj.精美的；敏锐的；剧烈的，感觉强烈的 | |
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64
possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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65
reverence
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| n.敬畏，尊敬，尊严；Reverence:对某些基督教神职人员的尊称；v.尊敬，敬畏，崇敬 | |
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66
creed
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| n.信条；信念，纲领 | |
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67
awe
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| n.敬畏，惊惧；vt.使敬畏，使惊惧 | |
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68
enthusiast
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| n.热心人，热衷者 | |
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69
dismal
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| adj.阴沉的，凄凉的，令人忧郁的，差劲的 | |
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70
libertine
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| n.淫荡者；adj.放荡的，自由思想的 | |
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71
peculiarities
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| n. 特质, 特性, 怪癖, 古怪 | |
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72
peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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73
ethics
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| n.伦理学；伦理观，道德标准 | |
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74
routs
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| n.打垮，赶跑( rout的名词复数 )；（体育）打败对方v.打垮，赶跑( rout的第三人称单数 )；（体育）打败对方 | |
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75
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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76
tawny
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| adj.茶色的，黄褐色的；n.黄褐色 | |
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77
tremor
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| n.震动，颤动，战栗，兴奋，地震 | |
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78
orbs
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| abbr.off-reservation boarding school 在校寄宿学校n.球，天体，圆形物( orb的名词复数 ) | |
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79
perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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80
Christian
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| adj.基督教徒的；n.基督教徒 | |
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81
misery
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| n.痛苦，苦恼，苦难；悲惨的境遇，贫苦 | |
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82
levity
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| n.轻率，轻浮，不稳定，多变 | |
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83
sneers
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| 讥笑的表情（言语）( sneer的名词复数 ) | |
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84
caressing
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| 爱抚的，表现爱情的，亲切的 | |
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85
nay
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| adv.不；n.反对票，投反对票者 | |
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86
miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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87
cowardice
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| n.胆小，怯懦 | |
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88
interfere
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| v.(in)干涉，干预；(with)妨碍，打扰 | |
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89
outraging
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| 引起…的义愤，激怒( outrage的现在分词 ) | |
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90
inflicting
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| 把…强加给，使承受，遭受( inflict的现在分词 ) | |
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91
ennui
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| n.怠倦，无聊 | |
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92
cynical
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| adj.(对人性或动机)怀疑的，不信世道向善的 | |
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93
horrid
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| adj.可怕的；令人惊恐的；恐怖的；极讨厌的 | |
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94
ruffled
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| adj. 有褶饰边的, 起皱的 动词ruffle的过去式和过去分词 | |
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95
jargon
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| n.术语，行话 | |
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96
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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97
maternal
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| adj.母亲的，母亲般的，母系的，母方的 | |
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98
exuberant
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| adj.充满活力的；（植物）繁茂的 | |
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99
guardian
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| n.监护人；守卫者，保护者 | |
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100
wont
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| adj.习惯于；v.习惯；n.习惯 | |
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101
binding
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| 有约束力的，有效的，应遵守的 | |
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102
remonstrances
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| n.抱怨，抗议( remonstrance的名词复数 ) | |
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103
distressed
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| 痛苦的 | |
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104
soothed
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| v.安慰( soothe的过去式和过去分词 )；抚慰；使舒服；减轻痛苦 | |
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105
insidious
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| adj.阴险的，隐匿的，暗中为害的，（疾病）不知不觉之间加剧 | |
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106
inconvenient
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| adj.不方便的，令人感到麻烦的 | |
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107
tranquil
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| adj. 安静的, 宁静的, 稳定的, 不变的 | |
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108
ascertaining
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| v.弄清，确定，查明( ascertain的现在分词 ) | |
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109
legitimately
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| ad.合法地；正当地，合理地 | |
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110
inquiries
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| n.调查( inquiry的名词复数 )；疑问；探究；打听 | |
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111
privy
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| adj.私用的；隐密的 | |
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112
salmon
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| n.鲑，大马哈鱼，橙红色的 | |
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113
pervaded
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| v.遍及，弥漫( pervade的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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114
deprivation
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| n.匮乏；丧失；夺去，贫困 | |
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115
smelt
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| v.熔解，熔炼；n.银白鱼，胡瓜鱼 | |
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116
mischief
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| n.损害，伤害，危害；恶作剧，捣蛋，胡闹 | |
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117
averted
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| 防止，避免( avert的过去式和过去分词 )； 转移 | |
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118
frankly
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| adv.坦白地，直率地；坦率地说 | |
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119
confession
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| n.自白，供认，承认 | |
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120
catching
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| adj.易传染的，有魅力的，迷人的，接住 | |
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121
drearily
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| 沉寂地，厌倦地，可怕地 | |
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122
contemplating
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| 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 | |
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123
remains
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| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
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124
lustre
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| n.光亮，光泽；荣誉 | |
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125
chilly
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| adj.凉快的，寒冷的 | |
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126
determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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127
delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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128
perusal
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| n.细读，熟读；目测 | |
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129
edified
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| v.开导，启发( edify的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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130
guardians
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| 监护人( guardian的名词复数 )； 保护者，维护者 | |
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131
dwindled
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| v.逐渐变少或变小( dwindle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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132
daggers
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| 匕首，短剑( dagger的名词复数 ) | |
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133
basked
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| v.晒太阳，取暖( bask的过去式和过去分词 )；对…感到乐趣；因他人的功绩而出名；仰仗…的余泽 | |
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134
uncommonly
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| adv. 稀罕(极，非常) | |
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135
pier
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| n.码头；桥墩，桥柱；[建]窗间壁，支柱 | |
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136
pious
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| adj.虔诚的；道貌岸然的 | |
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137
cavalry
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| n.骑兵；轻装甲部队 | |
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138
pebbles
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| [复数]鹅卵石； 沙砾； 卵石，小圆石( pebble的名词复数 ) | |
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139
silhouettes
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| 轮廓( silhouette的名词复数 )； （人的）体形； （事物的）形状； 剪影 | |
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140
sarcastic
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| adj.讥讽的，讽刺的，嘲弄的 | |
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141
squeaks
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| n.短促的尖叫声，吱吱声( squeak的名词复数 )v.短促地尖叫( squeak的第三人称单数 )；吱吱叫；告密；充当告密者 | |
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142
whines
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| n.悲嗥声( whine的名词复数 )；哀鸣者v.哀号( whine的第三人称单数 )；哀诉，诉怨 | |
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143
prodigious
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| adj.惊人的，奇妙的；异常的；巨大的；庞大的 | |
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144
trots
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| 小跑，急走( trot的名词复数 )； 匆匆忙忙地走 | |
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145
shimmer
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| v./n.发微光，发闪光；微光 | |
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146
marine
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| adj.海的；海生的；航海的；海事的；n.水兵 | |
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147
labyrinth
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| n.迷宫；难解的事物；迷路 | |
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148
natty
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| adj.整洁的，漂亮的 | |
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149
ponderous
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| adj.沉重的，笨重的，(文章)冗长的 | |
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150
translucent
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| adj.半透明的；透明的 | |
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151
shuddering
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| v.战栗( shudder的现在分词 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动 | |
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152
utterance
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| n.用言语表达，话语，言语 | |
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