Yet Basil was not quite his familiar self today; he talked with less than his natural gaiety, wore a musing15 look, fell into silences. Now that Aurelia had come, there was no motive16 for reserve on that subject with Decius, and indeed they conversed18 of their kinswoman with perfect openness, pitying rather than condemning19 her, and wondering what would result from her presence under one roof with the rigid20 Petronilla. Not on Aurelia’s account did Basil droop21 his head now and then, look about him vacantly, bite his lip, answer a question at hazard, play nervously22 with his dagger’s hilt. All at once, with an abruptness23 which moved his companion’s surprise, he made an inquiry24, seemingly little relevant to their topic.
‘Heard you ever of a Gothic princess—a lady of the lineage of Theodoric—still living in Italy?’
‘Never,’ responded Decius, with a puzzled smile. ‘Is there such a one?’
‘I am told so—I heard it by chance. Yet I know not who she can be. Did not the direct line of Theodoric end with Athalaric and his sister Matasuntha, who is now at the Emperor’s court?’
‘So I believed,’ said Decius, ‘though I have thought but little of the matter.’
‘I too, trust me,’ let fall Basil, with careful carelessness; no actor he. ‘And the vile25 Theodahad—what descendants did he leave?’
‘He was a scholar,’ said the other musingly26, ‘deep read in Plato.’
‘None the less a glutton27 and a murderer and a coward, who did well to give his throat to the butcher as he ran away from his enemies. Children he had, I think—but—’
Basil broke off on a wandering thought. He stood still, knitted his brows, and sniffed28 the air. At this moment there appeared in the alley a serving man, a young and active fellow of very honest visage, who stood at some yards’ distance until Basil observed him.
‘What is it, Felix?’ inquired his master.
The attendant stepped forward, and made known that the lord Marcian had even now ridden up to the villa29, with two followers30, and desired to wait upon Basil. This news brought a joyful31 light to the eyes of the young noble; he hastened to welcome his friend, the dearest he had. Marcian, a year or two his elder, was less favoured by nature in face and form: tall and vigorous enough of carriage, he showed more bone and sinew than flesh; and his face might have been that of a man worn by much fasting, so deep sunk were the eyes, so jutting32 the cheek-bones, and so sharp the chin; its cast, too, was that of a fixed33 and native melancholy34. But when he smiled, these features became much more pleasing, and revealed a kindliness35 of temper such as might win the love of one who knew him well. His dress was plain, and the dust of Campanian roads lay somewhat thick upon him.
‘By Bacchus!’ cried his friend, as they embraced each other, ‘fortune is good to me today. Could I have had but one wish granted, it would have been to see Marcian. I thought you still in Rome. What makes you travel? Not in these days solely37 to visit a friend, I warrant. By Peter and Paul and as many more saints as you can remember, I am glad to hold your hand! What news do you bring?’
‘Little enough,’ answered Marcian, with a shrug38 of the shoulders. The natural tune36 of his voice harmonised with his visage, and he spoke39 as one who feels a scornful impatience40 with the affairs of men. ‘At Rome, they wrangle41 about goats’ wool, as is their wont42. Anything else? Why, yes; the freedman Chrysanthus glories in an exconsulate. It cost him the trifle of thirty pounds of gold.’
Basil laughed contemptuously, half angrily.
‘We must look to our honours,’ he exclaimed. ‘If Chrysanthus be exconsul, can you and I be satisfied with less than exPraetorian–Prefect? What will be the price, think you? Has Bessas hung out a tariff43 yet in the Forum44?’
‘He knows better than to fix a maximum, as long as a wealthy fool remains45 in the city—though that won’t be much longer, I take it.’
‘Why come you hither, dear my lord?’ urged Basil, with more seriousness.
Regarding him with a grave eye, his friend replied in an undertone:
‘To spy upon you.’
‘Ha!—In very truth?’
‘You could wish me a more honourable46 office,’ Marcian went on, smiling sadly. ‘Yet, if you think of it, in these days, it is some honour to be a traitor47 to both sides. There has been talk of you in Rome. Nay48, who knows how or why! They have nothing to do but talk, and these victories of the Goth have set up such a Greek cackle as was never heard since Helen ran away to Troy,—and, talking of Greek, I bear a letter for you from Heliodora.’
Basil, who had been listening gravely, started at this name and uttered an idle laugh. From a wallet hanging at his girdle, Marcian drew forth49 the missive.
‘That may wait,’ said Basil, glancing indifferently at the folded and sealed paper before he hid it away. ‘Having said so much, you must tell me more. Put off that sardonic50 mask—I know very well what hides beneath it—and look me in the eye. You have surprised some danger?’
‘I heard you spoken of—by one who seldom opens his lips but to ill purpose. It was not difficult for me to wade51 through the shallows of the man’s mind, and for my friend’s sake to win his base confidence. Needing a spy, and being himself a born traitor, he readily believed me at his beck; in truth he had long marked me, so I found, for a cankered soul who waited but the occasion to advance by infamy52. I held the creature in my hand; I turned him over and over, and he, the while, thinking me his greedy slave. And so, usurping53 the place of some other who would have ambushed54 you in real enmity, I came hither on his errand.’
‘Marcian,’ said the listener, ‘I could make a guess at that man’s name.’
‘Nay, I doubt if you could, and indeed it matters nothing. Enough that I may do you some little service.’
‘For which,’ replied Basil, ‘I cannot pay you, since all my love is already yours. And she—Heliodora,’ he added, with a careless gesture, ‘knows of your mission?’
‘Of my mission, no; but of my proposed journey. Though indeed she may know more than I suppose. Who shall say what reaches the ear of Heliodora—?’
‘You have not heard perhaps that her husband is dead?’
‘The Prefect dead?’ exclaimed Basil.
‘Three weeks ago.—Rather suddenly—after supper. An indigestion, no doubt.’
Marcian spoke with peculiar55 dryness, averting56 his eyes from the listener. Upon Basil’s face came a deep flush; he took out the folded paper again, and held it at arm’s length.
‘You mean—? You think—?’ he stammered57.
‘About women I think not at all,’ said the other, ‘as you well know. There is talk, talk—what care I?’
Basil tore the letter open. It contained a lock of raven-black hair, tied with gold thread, and on the paper was written, in Greek, ‘I am free.’ Again his cheek flushed; he crushed paper and hair together in his hand.
‘Let us never again speak of her,’ he exclaimed, moving away from the spot. ‘Before I left Rome, I told you that I would gladly see her no more, and you smiled dubiously59. Believe me now. I abhor60 the thought of her. If she ask you for my reply, repeat those words.’
‘Nay, dear my lord, in that I will beg to be excused,’ replied Marcian with his melancholy smile.
They were walking silently, side by side, when the servant Felix again presented himself before them. Maximus, having heard of the arrival of Marcian from Rome, requested that he and Basil would grant him a moment of their leisure. At once the young men turned to obey this summons. On the way, Basil communicated to his friend in a whisper the event of the day. A couple of hours having passed since Aurelia’s coming, the Senator had in some degree recovered from his agitation61; he lay now in a room which opened upon the central court of the villa, a room adorned62 with rich marbles and with wall-paintings which were fading under the hand of time. Deathly pale, scarce able to raise his head from the cushion of the couch, he none the less showed a countenance63 bright with joyous64 emotion. His quivering voice strove to welcome the visitor cheerily.
‘What news from the city, dear lord Marcian? How are all our friends? Do they begin to forget us?’
‘Not so, Illustrious,’ answered the young man, with head bent65. ‘You are much desired in the Senate, where grave counsel is just now greatly in demand.’
‘The Senate, the Senate,’ murmured Maximus, as if reminded of something he had long forgotten. ‘They must needs lack my voice, I fear. What do men say of the Gothic king?’
Marcian threw a glance at Basil, then towards the curtained portals of the room; lastly, his eyes turned upon the sick man, whom he regarded steadily66.
‘They say much—or little,’ fell from his lips.
‘I understand you,’ replied the Senator, with a friendly movement of the head. ‘Here we may speak freely. Does Totila draw near to Rome?’
‘He is still in Tuscany, and rumours67 come from his army that he will pass into Samnium. All the strongholds of Umbria are his; all the conquests of Belisarius from Ariminum to Spoletium.’
‘Where are the Roman captains?’
‘Each in his city of the far north, holding the plunder68 he has got, and looking for the chance of more. In Rome—’
Marcian paused significantly, and the Senator took up his words.
‘In Rome rules Bessas.’
‘The Thracian,’ remarked Basil bitterly.
‘And in Ravenna,’ added the sick man, ‘Alexandros—the coin-clipper.’
The eyes of Basil and of Marcian encountered. Between them came no shadow of distrust, the smile they exchanged told of loyal affection.
‘This Totila,’ pursued Marcian, ‘seems to be not only a brave and capable commander, but a shrewd politician. Everywhere he spares the people; he takes nothing by force; his soldiers buy at market; he protects the farmer against the taxing Greek. As a result, his army grows; where he passes, he leaves a good report, and before him goes a welcome. At this rate he will soon make all Italy his own. And unless the Patricius returns—’
By this title men were wont to speak of Belisarius. Hearing it, Basil threw up an arm, his eyes flashing.
‘The Patricius!’ he exclaimed fervently69. ‘There is the man who might have saved us!’
‘By the holy Laurentius!’ murmured Maximus, looking sadly at his nephew, ‘I have all but come to think as you do.’
‘Who that knew him,’ cried Basil, ‘but must have seen him, in thought—not King, for only the barbarians70 have kings—but Emperor—Emperor of the West, ruling at Rome as in the days gone by! There lives no man more royal. I have seen him day by day commanding and taking counsel; I have talked with him in his privacy. In the camp before Ravenna there was but one voice, one hope, as to what should follow when the city opened its gates, and the Goths themselves only surrendered because they thought to be ruled by him. But for the scruple71 of his conscience—and should not that have yielded to the general good?’
‘Is breach72 of faith so light a thing?’ fell from Marcian, under his breath.
‘Nay,’ answered the other, with drooping73 head, ‘but he did break faith with us. We had his promise; we saw him Emperor—’
‘You should have won Antonina,’ said Marcian, with a return to his sarcastic74 humour. ‘She must have mused75 long and anxiously, weighing the purple against Theodora’s fury. The Patrician’s fidelity76 stood by his wife’s prudence77.’
‘The one blot78 upon his noble nature,’ uttered Basil, with a sigh. ‘His one weakness. How,’ he cried scornfully, ‘can the conqueror79 of half the world bend before such a woman?’
Fatigued80 already by the conversation, Maximus had lain back and closed his eyes. Very soon the two young men received his permission to withdraw, and, as they left the room, the physician entered. Obedient to this counsellor the invalid81 gave several hours to repose82, but midway in the afternoon he again summoned his daughter, with whom he had a long and agitating83 conversation. He besought84 Aurelia to cast off her heretical religion, putting before her all the perils85 to which she exposed herself, by abandonment of the true faith, in this world and the next. His life was hurrying to its end; hour by hour he felt the fever wasting what little strength remained to him; and when he was gone who would protect her against the enmities to which religion and avarice86 would expose her? Aurelia’s resistance was sullen87 rather than resolute88; her countenance, her words, suggested that she was thinking more of what it would cost her pride to become a penitent89 than of any obstacle in conscience. At length she declared plainly that never would she humiliate90 herself before her aunt Petronilla, who had offered her no greeting and held scornfully apart. Here, as Maximus too well knew, lay the great difficulty of the situation; these women hated each other, and their hate would only be exasperated91 by Aurelia’s conversion92. He spoke of the deacon Leander, now on his way hither—begged Aurelia to listen to the reverend man, and gave solemn assurance that, the moment she abjured93 her errors, he would place her in a position of wealth and authority far above that of Petronilla. So utterly94 did he exhaust himself in entreaty95 and argument that he fell into a fainting fit. The physician was called for, and Aurelia, she too overcome with violent emotions, again retired96 to the part of the villa which had been assigned to her.
The Anicii of a bygone time, who took their solace97 here when marbles and mosaics98, paintings and tapestries99, were yet new, would have looked with consternation100 on halls so crumbling101 and bare, chambers102 so ill-appointed, as these in which the guests of the Senator Maximus had their dwelling103. Space there was in abundance, but of comfort in the guest-rooms little enough; and despite her brother’s commands, Petronilla had seen to it that Aurelia was not luxuriously104 lodged105. Better accommodation awaited the deacon Leander, whose arrival was announced an hour before sunset by a trotting106 courier. His journey from Salernum had so wearied the ecclesiastic107 that he could but give a hand to be kissed by his hostess, and straightway retire into privacy; the repast that was ready for him had to be served beside his couch, and soon after night had fallen, Leander slumbered108 peacefully. Meanwhile Basil and Decius and their friend from Rome had supped together, making what cheer they might under the circumstances; the Surrentine wine was a little acrid109, falling short of its due age, but it sufficed to animate110 the talk. Presently Decius withdrew, to study or to meditate111 through some hours of the night, for he slept ill; the others, going apart to a gallery lighted by the full moon, sat wrapped in thick, hooded112 cloaks, to converse17 awhile before they slept. With their voices mingled113 the soft splash of a fountain.
Basil was telling of his journey to Cumae, and of the difficulty he had had in persuading Aurelia to visit her father.
‘Does she live alone there?’ inquired Marcian.
There was a pause before the reply, and when Basil spoke his voice fell to a note of half-hesitating confidence.
‘Alone? yes,’ he said, ‘in the sense that no relative abode114 with her; but she had a companion—a lady—very young.’ And here he again paused, as if in some embarrassment115.
‘A Roman?’ was Marcian’s next question, carelessly thrown out for he had little interest in Aurelia, and was half occupied with other thoughts.
‘No,’ answered Basil, his voice subdued116. ‘A Goth; and, she says, of the royal blood, of the line of Theodoric.’
His friend became attentive117. ‘A Gothic princess? Whose daughter, then?’ asked Marcian. And Basil, who desired nothing more than to speak on this subject, little by little threw off his hesitancy, grew rapid and eager in narration118. He told how, on his first introduction to Aurelia’s presence, he had found sitting with her a young girl, whose aspect proclaimed her of the Gothic race. In a second interview with his cousin, alone, Aurelia had spoken of this companion, bestowing119 much praise upon her, and declaring that they were united by an affection which nothing could diminish. She was of Amal blood; more than that Aurelia seemed unwilling120 to reveal.
‘Did you not learn her name?’ asked the listener.
‘Veranilda.’
Marcian echoed the melodious121 syllables122, but they told him nothing.
‘And did you make no inquiry of those with whom you spoke?’
‘I conversed as little as might be with strangers, and purposely held apart from our acquaintances in the town; this was my uncle’s express command.’
‘You had no second sight of her?’
‘Indeed I had; and talked with her moreover. Marcian, how can I describe her to you? The words which suffice for common beauty sound meaningless when I would use them to depict123 Veranilda. Shall I tell you that she has hair of the purest gold, eyes brighter than the sky at noon, lips like the flower of the pomegranate, a cheek so fair, so soft—nay, you may well laugh at these idle phrases—’
‘Not your phrases,’ said Marcian, ‘but your voice as it utters them sets me smiling. Talk on. The chaste124 goddess who beams above us inspire you with worthy125 terms!’
‘There you speak to the point,’ pursued Basil ardently126. ‘For Veranilda is chaste as she is beautiful. Blessed saints! how my heart shrank in abhorrence127 when I saw that letter this morning; and how fain I would blot from my memory that baseness of the past! O Marcian, truest of friends, I slighted your counsel, scoffed128 at your warnings, but now I know how wisely and how honestly you spoke.’
‘Be that as it may,’ said the other. ‘But is it possible that, on a mere58 glimpse, this Gothic maiden129 should so have vanquished130 you?’
‘It had been more prudent131 to hold my peace. But you know me of old. When I am moved, I must needs unbosom myself; happy that I have one whom I can trust. Her voice, Marcian! This whisper of the night breeze in the laurels132 falls rudely upon the ear after Veranilda’s speech. Never have I heard a tone so soft, so gentle. The first word she spoke thrilled through me, as never did voice before; and I listened, listened, hoping she would speak again.’
‘Who may she be? Has not the lady Aurelia adorned her origin? Golden hair and blue eyes are no rarity among daughters of the Goths.’
‘Had you seen her!’ exclaimed Basil, and grew rapturous again. Whilst he exhausted133 language in the effort to prove how remote was Veranilda from any shape of loveliness easily presented by memory or imagination, Marcian pondered.
‘I can think of but one likelihood,’ was his quiet remark, when his friend had become silent. ‘King Theodahad had a daughter, who married the Gothic captain, Ebrimut.’
‘The traitor,’ murmured Basil uneasily.
‘Or friend of the Romans, as you will. He delivered Rhegium to Belisarius, and enjoys his reward at Byzantium. What if he left a child behind him?’
Basil repulsed134 the suggestion vehemently135.
‘Not that! I had half thought of it myself; but no. Aurelia said of the house of Theodoric.’
‘Why so would be a daughter of Ebrimut, through her mother—who was the daughter of Theodahad, who was the son of Amalafrida, who was the sister of Theodoric himself.’
‘She could not have meant that,’ protested Basil. ‘Child of a mercenary traitor, who opened Italy to his people’s foe136! Not that! Had you seen her, you would not believe it.’
‘Oh, my good Basil,’ laughed the other, ‘do you think I should see her with your eyes? But perhaps we conjecture137 idly quite missing the mark. What does it matter? You have no intention, I hope, of returning to Cumae?’
Basil opened his lips to reply, but thought better of it, and said nothing. Then his friend turned to speak of the ecclesiastical visitor who had that evening arrived, and, the subject not proving very fruitful, each presently betook himself to his night’s repose.
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1
alley
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| n.小巷，胡同；小径，小路 | |
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oratory
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| n.演讲术；词藻华丽的言辞 | |
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vigour
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| （=vigor）n.智力，体力，精力 | |
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lithe
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| adj.(指人、身体)柔软的，易弯的 | |
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lustrous
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| adj.有光泽的；光辉的 | |
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carnation
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| n.康乃馨（一种花） | |
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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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garb
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| n.服装，装束 | |
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tunic
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| n.束腰外衣 | |
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embroidered
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| adj．绣花的 | |
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hues
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| 色彩( hue的名词复数 )； 色调； 信仰； 观点 | |
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buckle
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| n.扣子，带扣；v.把...扣住，由于压力而弯曲 | |
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dagger
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| n.匕首，短剑，剑号 | |
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graceful
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| adj.优美的，优雅的；得体的 | |
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musing
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| n. 沉思，冥想 adj. 沉思的, 冥想的 动词muse的现在分词形式 | |
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motive
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| n.动机，目的；adv.发动的，运动的 | |
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converse
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| vi.谈话，谈天，闲聊；adv.相反的，相反 | |
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conversed
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| v.交谈，谈话( converse的过去式 ) | |
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condemning
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| v.（通常因道义上的原因而）谴责( condemn的现在分词 )；宣判；宣布…不能使用；迫使…陷于不幸的境地 | |
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rigid
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| adj.严格的，死板的；刚硬的，僵硬的 | |
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droop
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| v.低垂，下垂；凋萎，萎靡 | |
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nervously
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abruptness
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| n. 突然，唐突 | |
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inquiry
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| n.打听，询问，调查，查问 | |
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vile
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| adj.卑鄙的，可耻的，邪恶的；坏透的 | |
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musingly
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| adv.沉思地，冥想地 | |
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glutton
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| n.贪食者，好食者 | |
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sniffed
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| v.以鼻吸气，嗅，闻( sniff的过去式和过去分词 )；抽鼻子（尤指哭泣、患感冒等时出声地用鼻子吸气）；抱怨，不以为然地说 | |
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villa
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| n.别墅，城郊小屋 | |
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followers
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| 追随者( follower的名词复数 )； 用户； 契据的附面； 从动件 | |
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joyful
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| adj.欢乐的，令人欢欣的 | |
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jutting
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| v.（使）突出( jut的现在分词 )；伸出；（从…）突出；高出 | |
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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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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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kindliness
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| n.厚道，亲切，友好的行为 | |
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tune
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| n.调子；和谐，协调；v.调音，调节，调整 | |
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solely
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| adv.仅仅，唯一地 | |
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shrug
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| v.耸肩(表示怀疑、冷漠、不知等) | |
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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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impatience
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| n.不耐烦，急躁 | |
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wrangle
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| vi.争吵 | |
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wont
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| adj.习惯于；v.习惯；n.习惯 | |
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tariff
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| n.关税，税率；(旅馆、饭店等)价目表，收费表 | |
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forum
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| n.论坛，讨论会 | |
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remains
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| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
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honourable
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| adj.可敬的；荣誉的，光荣的 | |
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traitor
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| n.叛徒，卖国贼 | |
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nay
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| adv.不；n.反对票，投反对票者 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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sardonic
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| adj.嘲笑的，冷笑的，讥讽的 | |
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wade
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| v.跋涉，涉水；n.跋涉 | |
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52
infamy
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| n.声名狼藉，出丑，恶行 | |
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53
usurping
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| 篡夺，霸占( usurp的现在分词 )； 盗用； 篡夺，篡权 | |
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54
ambushed
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| v.埋伏( ambush的过去式和过去分词 )；埋伏着 | |
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55
peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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56
averting
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| 防止，避免( avert的现在分词 )； 转移 | |
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57
stammered
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| v.结巴地说出( stammer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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58
mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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59
dubiously
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| adv.可疑地，怀疑地 | |
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60
abhor
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| v.憎恶；痛恨 | |
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61
agitation
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| n.搅动；搅拌；鼓动，煽动 | |
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62
adorned
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| [计]被修饰的 | |
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63
countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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64
joyous
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| adj.充满快乐的；令人高兴的 | |
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65
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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66
steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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67
rumours
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| n.传闻( rumour的名词复数 )；风闻；谣言；谣传 | |
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68
plunder
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| vt.劫掠财物，掠夺；n.劫掠物，赃物；劫掠 | |
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69
fervently
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| adv.热烈地，热情地，强烈地 | |
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70
barbarians
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| n.野蛮人( barbarian的名词复数 )；外国人；粗野的人；无教养的人 | |
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71
scruple
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| n./v.顾忌，迟疑 | |
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72
breach
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| n.违反，不履行；破裂；vt.冲破，攻破 | |
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73
drooping
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| adj. 下垂的，无力的 动词droop的现在分词 | |
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74
sarcastic
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| adj.讥讽的，讽刺的，嘲弄的 | |
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75
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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76
fidelity
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| n.忠诚，忠实；精确 | |
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77
prudence
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| n.谨慎，精明，节俭 | |
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78
blot
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| vt.弄脏（用吸墨纸）吸干；n.污点，污渍 | |
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79
conqueror
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| n.征服者，胜利者 | |
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80
fatigued
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| adj. 疲乏的 | |
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81
invalid
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| n.病人，伤残人；adj.有病的，伤残的；无效的 | |
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82
repose
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| v.(使)休息；n.安息 | |
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83
agitating
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| 搅动( agitate的现在分词 )； 激怒； 使焦虑不安； （尤指为法律、社会状况的改变而）激烈争论 | |
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84
besought
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| v.恳求，乞求（某事物）( beseech的过去式和过去分词 )；(beseech的过去式与过去分词) | |
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85
perils
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| 极大危险( peril的名词复数 )； 危险的事（或环境） | |
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86
avarice
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| n.贪婪；贪心 | |
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87
sullen
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| adj.愠怒的，闷闷不乐的，(天气等)阴沉的 | |
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88
resolute
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| adj.坚决的，果敢的 | |
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89
penitent
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| adj.后悔的；n.后悔者；忏悔者 | |
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90
humiliate
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| v.使羞辱，使丢脸[同]disgrace | |
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91
exasperated
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| adj.恼怒的 | |
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92
conversion
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| n.转化，转换，转变 | |
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93
abjured
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| v.发誓放弃( abjure的过去式和过去分词 )；郑重放弃（意见）；宣布撤回（声明等）；避免 | |
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94
utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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95
entreaty
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| n.恳求，哀求 | |
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96
retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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97
solace
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| n.安慰；v.使快乐；vt.安慰(物)，缓和 | |
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98
mosaics
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| n.马赛克( mosaic的名词复数 )；镶嵌；镶嵌工艺；镶嵌图案 | |
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99
tapestries
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| n.挂毯( tapestry的名词复数 )；绣帷，织锦v.用挂毯（或绣帷）装饰( tapestry的第三人称单数 ) | |
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100
consternation
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| n.大为吃惊，惊骇 | |
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101
crumbling
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| adj.摇摇欲坠的 | |
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102
chambers
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| n.房间( chamber的名词复数 )；（议会的）议院；卧室；会议厅 | |
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103
dwelling
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| n.住宅，住所，寓所 | |
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104
luxuriously
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| adv.奢侈地，豪华地 | |
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105
lodged
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| v.存放( lodge的过去式和过去分词 )；暂住；埋入；（权利、权威等）归属 | |
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106
trotting
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| 小跑，急走( trot的现在分词 )； 匆匆忙忙地走 | |
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107
ecclesiastic
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| n.教士，基督教会；adj.神职者的，牧师的，教会的 | |
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108
slumbered
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| 微睡，睡眠（slumber的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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109
acrid
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| adj.辛辣的，尖刻的，刻薄的 | |
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110
animate
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| v.赋于生命，鼓励；adj.有生命的，有生气的 | |
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111
meditate
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| v.想，考虑，（尤指宗教上的）沉思，冥想 | |
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112
hooded
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| adj.戴头巾的；有罩盖的；颈部因肋骨运动而膨胀的 | |
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113
mingled
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| 混合，混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
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114
abode
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| n.住处，住所 | |
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115
embarrassment
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| n.尴尬；使人为难的人(事物)；障碍；窘迫 | |
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116
subdued
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| adj. 屈服的，柔和的，减弱的 动词subdue的过去式和过去分词 | |
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117
attentive
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| adj.注意的，专心的；关心(别人)的，殷勤的 | |
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118
narration
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| n.讲述，叙述；故事；记叙体 | |
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119
bestowing
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| 砖窑中砖堆上层已烧透的砖 | |
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120
unwilling
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| adj.不情愿的 | |
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121
melodious
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| adj.旋律美妙的，调子优美的，音乐性的 | |
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122
syllables
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| n.音节( syllable的名词复数 ) | |
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123
depict
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| vt.描画，描绘；描写，描述 | |
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124
chaste
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| adj.贞洁的；有道德的；善良的；简朴的 | |
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125
worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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126
ardently
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| adv.热心地，热烈地 | |
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127
abhorrence
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| n.憎恶；可憎恶的事 | |
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128
scoffed
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| 嘲笑，嘲弄( scoff的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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129
maiden
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| n.少女，处女；adj.未婚的，纯洁的，无经验的 | |
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130
vanquished
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| v.征服( vanquish的过去式和过去分词 )；战胜；克服；抑制 | |
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131
prudent
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| adj.谨慎的，有远见的，精打细算的 | |
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132
laurels
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| n.桂冠，荣誉 | |
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133
exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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134
repulsed
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| v.击退( repulse的过去式和过去分词 )；驳斥；拒绝 | |
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135
vehemently
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| adv. 热烈地 | |
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136
foe
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| n.敌人，仇敌 | |
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137
conjecture
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| n./v.推测，猜测 | |
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