GRAVITY AND FUN
Though verging1 now on her thirtieth year, Charlotte Tucker was still unknown to the public as an Author. If the initials A. L. O. E. existed in her mind as a future possibility, they had at least not yet appeared upon any printed page.
From time to time, however, her pen was busy; still in the old line of comic or tragic2 plays, for home amusement. In 1847 she wrote The Castle of Sternalt; a Tragedy in Two Acts; belonging to the Cavalier and Roundhead period of England’s history. In that same year she also accomplished3 Grimhaggard Hall; a Farce4 in Two Acts—not historical, but highly comic. After which came apparently5 a gap of two or three years; and in 1850 she wrote, Who Was The Witch? a Drama in Three Acts—historical again, belonging to the days of the Saxons and of King Harold, half comic, half tragic.
It does not appear from these three plays that her gift in the dramatic line had made any marked advance during the ten years or more which had elapsed since first she launched out in this direction. Probably an entirely6 different mode of life from hers, a less sheltered existence, a more extensive knowledge of human nature in its countless7 phases, is an absolute necessity to such development. There is in them much latent power, however[72] unequal and undeveloped, whether it be of the grave or of the sparkling and humorous description. The following quotation8 from the Castle of Sternalt will give an idea of her tragic style at that period. Ravensby, the hero, is a Cavalier, imprisoned9 and condemned10 to death on a false charge of murder.
ACT IV.—SCENE I.
A DUNGEON11.
Ravensby.
‘Th’ intensity12 of grief destroys itself.
The torturer beholds13 his Victim stretched
Unconscious, pain itself o’ercome by pain.
Fate dooms15 me now to death; last punishment
Which mortal can inflict,—and yet I feel
There’s mercy in the doom14. Thus to live on
Were lingering martyrdom; it were to die
By inches, drain my heart’s blood drop by drop.
One flash ends all! O Clara, when my soul
Hath ceased to suffer, can it cease to love?
Methinks, when quitting Earth, ’twill still retain
Her image, who was more than Earth to me!
It is a portion of my being, twined
With every thought and feeling; thou wilt16 weep,
My Clara; thou canst not believe him false
To faith and friends, who is so true to thee.
Gazing into the uncorrupted depths
Of thy pure feelings, thou wilt judge of mine.
When all denounced me, thou wert still my friend
When all forget, thou wilt remember still!
Enter Agnes.
Agnes, aside.
I ne’er have feared the eye of mortal man,
Why should I shrink from his?
Rav. Who comes to break
The prisoner’s solitude17?
Agn. One who would be
The prisoner’s friend.
Rav. I have no friend—save one.
[73]
Agn. Can he speak thus who hath so long espoused18
The Royal cause, and served that cause so well?
Who, girt with honours, well deserved, hath stood
One in a noble Brotherhood19 of Fame!
Where are the Cavaliers who fought with thee
In battle, side by side, who with thee shared
The feast, and drained the wine-cup to your King?
Where are they now? what, gone? not one remains20,
T’assert thy innocence21, or shield thee from
An ignominious22 death. Friends! out upon them!
They mock the name; it were not thus, if thou
Hadst drawn23 thy gallant24 sword with those who wear
No chains but those of Virtue25, those who own
No earthly Monarch26, and uphold no power
But that of Liberty; whose friendship lasts
Not only when the red wine sparkles high,
And revelry and song profane27 the night;
If such had been thy comrades and thy friends,
Thou hadst not been forsaken28 thus.
Rav. No more!
Agn. The gate thou hast defended with thy blood,
To-morrow casts thee forth29, led out to die;
And the proud towers coldly will look down
Upon the closing scene; for hearts more hard
And more impregnable decree thy doom.
Thou diest a traitor30’s death;—but wert thou ours,
Then ev’ry bush around the fatal spot
Should hold an armed defender31, ev’ry knoll32
Conceal33 an ambushed34 friend, and at a word
A wall of steel should bristle35 round thy breast;
Then swords should clash with swords, and they who came
To shed thy blood lie weltering in their own.
If thou wert ours—and yet thou mayst be ours,——
Rav. Cease, for I know thee, Temptress; words like these
Betray the fair false lips from which they flow.
Thou’rt Agnes, own it,—Gasper Tarlton’s love.
Agn. Agnes I am, not Gasper Tarlton’s love.
The thistledown that floats upon the breeze,
The thorny37 weed which from my path I spurn38,
The insect which I crush beneath my tread,
Are not to me more insignificant39,
More worthless—than the Slave whom thou hast named.
[74]
Rav. Thank Heaven! then my last doubt melts away;
He yet is true, yet faithful to his King;
My sacrifice will not be made for nought40.
Maid, he is honoured in thy hate!
Agn. And thou——
Rav. Leave me.
Agn. To perish!
Rav. Thou canst not defend.
Agn. I could,—yes, I could arm in thy behalf
A thousand gallant hands, might I but say,
‘The injured will on the oppressor turn,
Unite the love of freedom with revenge,
A thousand-fold repay the debt he owes
To your brave confidence; in Ravensby
Ye will destroy a foe41 and win a friend!’
Could I speak thus——
Rav. Thy sex protects thee, Maid,
Or thou shouldst learn the meed of treason. Hence!
Agn. From other lips such words I had not borne.
Why should I thus urge life upon thee,—why
Seek to preserve thee in thine own despite?
O thou art worthy42 of a nobler cause;
I see in thee one who can nobly dare,
Firmly resolve, and boldly execute;—
And what a bright career before thee lies——
Rav. A brief one,—from the dungeon to the tomb.
Agn. To die a Traitor in the eyes of men.
Rav. Better than live a villain43 in my own.
Depart, and leave me to my fate. Away!
Agn. O brave and glorious! I will tempt36 no more.
My pride is humbled45. I have found a soul
That soars beyond mine own. I would not rob
Thy pinion47 of one plume48. I watch thy flight
With kindling49 emulation50. O for power
To follow it, that I above this sphere
Might rise; companion, not unworthy thee!
Rav. A step approaches.
Agn. None must see me here. [Retires into shade.]
Agnes in the end confesses herself guilty of the crime for which he is condemned to death;—in time to save his[75] name from lasting51 disgrace, though not in time to save his life.
Who Was The Witch? though in parts amusing enough, is hardly so good as the others. Modern English puns sit oddly upon a background of pre-medi?val Saxon history. Grimhaggard Hall is perhaps one of A. L. O. E.’s most comic and laughable jeux-d’esprit, over which one can picture the family as enjoying many a hearty52 laugh. The perpetual play upon words, and the almost rollicking fun and nonsense of the whole, remind one of her earlier effort, The Pretender, already given at length; though the later-written farce is in some respects scarcely equal to the girlish achievement. Both these plays illustrate53 well the frisky54 and frolicsome55 side of a character which was in some respects not only intensely serious, but absolutely stern. Charlotte Tucker’s was truly a many-sided nature.
Whether at this time she had already begun to write anything in the shape of children’s story-books does not appear. It is by no means unlikely, since the date of her first appearance in print was now fast drawing near.
The chief characters in Grimhaggard Hall are—Mr. Cramp56; Mr. Scull, an artist; Mr. Wriggle57, a tutor; Miss Cob; and Nellie, daughter of Mr. Cramp.
ACT I.
Library in Grimhaggard Hall. Nellie and Mr. Wriggle.
Nellie. O my dear old Tutor, I shall be so sorry to lose you! I wish that my good Father had kept to his old plan, and instead of sending Bob to College had kept both you and him here. This house is so intolerably dull. When you are gone I shall sit looking at the old stones in the old wall, till I petrify58 into one myself. Why, the very spiders’ webs look as though there were no business doing in them, and not a fly nor even a broom would call at the door! Heigh-ho!
[76]
Wrig. You forget, honoured Madam, the governess, Miss Cob, who is expected here to-morrow.
Nell. A governess; the horror! then I hear that she is an oddity; so absent; very learned though, and extremely well-informed. I am rather old for a governess; I was seventeen last March. It would have been quite a different thing to have gone on with my studies here with you and Bob. Do you know that, without vanity, I consider that I have made amazing progress during the month that you have been here?
Wrig. In Geography, Madam, for instance. Let me have the honour of recalling to your oblivious59 memory that only yesterday you forgot the situation of Guinea.
Nell. Nonsense! I said that it was on the Gold Coast, and wished I had it in my own pocket.
Wrig. I have remarked with regret, if you will permit me to say it, an aversion to consulting the Atlas60, which——
Nell. Keep me from you and your atlas! Atlas carried the world, and you would burden me with the Atlas. I hardly consider myself competent yet to carry the whole globe on my poor little shoulders. I should like to know what is the use of knowing the situation of this place and that place, to one who never has the satisfaction of seeing any place at all beyond the walls of our stupid garden. I wish that the cross old gentleman who bequeathed my father Grimhaggard Hall, had lived to repent61 it, that I do! I would rather live in the narrowest lane in the City than be cooped up here like a toad62 in a block. I’ve no fancy to be a Penelope,—stitch, stitch, stitch!
Wrig. Penelope was a distinguished63 ornament64 to her sex.
Nell. O dear Tutor, I know that she was a duck of a queen, but distinguished for nothing but her web-feat.
Wrig. The resource of literature remains to you, Madam, which was never open to her. I would again venture to draw your attention to the subject of Geography.
Nell. O no more of that, I beg, my dear Mr. Wriggle. I know that Ham and Sandwich are in the kitchen, China in the cupboard, and Madeira in the cellar. That is enough for me. I regard Geography simply in reference to utility. I’m quite a utilitarian65 by principle. You know that the greatest navigator was a Cook; I dare say that he discovered Chili66, Cayenne, and Cura?oa. Now do you know, my wise old Tutor, in spite of your white hair and all your learning, I think that I could puzzle you.
[77]
Wrig. It would be difficult, Madam, to place a limit to your powers.
Nell. Tell me, why is Botany Bay called Botany Bay?
Wrig. I am not, I must own, aware from what the name is derived67. Probably the Botanist68 has there discovered some new and curious specimens69 of plants.
Nell. O you must have come from Dunse or the Scilly Isles70. Botany Bay is called Botany Bay, because blossoms of the birch and sprigs of the gallows-tree are transplanted there without their leaves.
Wrig. I see! I see! Ha, ha!
Nell. I wonder if Miss Cob will understand a joke,—if she will ever perpetrate a pun. Do you know I fancy her such a prim71 old quiz? I should like to know whether she will play at chess with Papa, or teach me the guitar, as you do. Do you think that she will endure this house?
Wrig. The total want of all society, except that which the walls of Grimhaggard Hall have the honour constantly to enclose, may perhaps have an effect upon the lady’s spirits not altogether exhilarating; but when your brother returns from College, perhaps he may be accompanied by some of his fellow-students.
Nell. Students; what an idea! When my Father would sooner see a Goblin than a young man under any circumstances!
Wrig. Is not this rather a peculiar—rather a singular—I would say prejudice? Could such a word be applicable to the excellent Mr. Cramp?
Nell. I should say very singular indeed, did I not know its cause.
Wrig. Is it presumptuous72 to inquire what that cause may be?
Nell. O I’ll tell you in a moment. It all arises out of the freaks and folly73 of Mr. Grim of Grimhaggard Hall, who had, I am sorry to say, the kindness to leave us this property, and thereby74 consigned75 me to the dolefuls for the rest of my life.
Wrig. Was the estate bequeathed under any unpleasant conditions? I never heard your respected father complain of such.
Nell. O it is all right to my father because it was all left to him. But you shall hear. This Mr. Grim had a promising76 nephew, ... and this nephew, Mr. Atherton by name, was very naturally considered as Mr. Grim’s heir, the old gentleman never having persuaded any lady to marry him, and reign77 like another Proserpine over the gloomy shades of Grimhaggard Hall.
Wrig. How then came the estate to your Father?
[78]
Nell. Have a little patience, my dear Mr. Wriggle, and you shall be as learned as myself upon the subject. Well, this old uncle quarrelled with this young nephew. I think that it was about politics or some such absurdity78; the elder was a Tory and the junior a Radical79; no, the young one was the Tory, and the old one the Radical; and this radical question was the root of the quarrel. Now what do you think the spiteful old gentleman did?
Wrig. Disinherited his nephew, and left the property to Mr. Cramp.
Nell. That would have been a pretty severe lesson to the young man; but what do you say to the affectionate uncle leaving such a clause as this in his will? That my father must only have and hold this said Grimhaggard Hall, on condition of poor Mr. Atherton’s never even crossing the threshold of what he once considered his home! The place must be perfectly80 heir-tight. If he ever passes twelve hours under this roof, the whole estate is to revert81 to him.
Wrig. Such a clause argues little charity; but perhaps it may ultimately prove for the benefit of him whom it was designed to injure.
Nell. Ah, you think that Mr. Atherton may still manage to get his property out of his old uncle’s clause! I am sure I wish that Mr. Grim had left the dull place to him, or any one but us; but then my Father is not of my mind. Yet even he has not an atom of enjoyment82 of his prize, from the perpetual fear of losing it. He has heard that young Atherton is very sharp and clever; of course he will try to regain84 his rights by any means that may present themselves; so I really believe that Papa expects him to appear some day or other through the key-hole. The gate is kept constantly locked,—luckily, one can see the high-road from the house,—nothing in the shape of a Man is permitted to pass it; we have even parted with all men-servants, lest Mr. Atherton should manage to get in disguised as a lackey85. Grimhaggard Hall is a regular Convent. A travelling pedlar is regarded with suspicion; the butcher-boy must hand the leg of mutton over the gate; the young apothecary86 is an object of terror,—I could not have a tooth pulled out, were I to die for it. Dear me, how it is raining! The weather seems endeavouring to find out whether it be possible to make Grimhaggard Hall look a little duller than usual.
Wrig. I hope Miss Cob may be fortunate in having finer weather for her journey to-morrow.
Nell. She is on the road to-day, like John Gilpin’s hat and wig87.[79] She was to leave Puddingham this morning, and rest to-night at the Jolly Bridecake at Mouseton. I hope the coach is provided with oar46 and rudders, for she will certainly have to swim for it!...
In the midst of this talk an artist’s gig is smashed outside the front gate; and the artist, Mr. Scull, being much shaken, is actually admitted within the walls of the old Hall, to the great disquiet88 of Mr. Cramp, who is determined89 that, come what may, the young man shall not remain through the night. It is a pelting90 day, and no other conveyance91 seems likely to pass; while the artist is plainly unable to walk the distance which separates Grimhaggard Hall from the next town. While this matter is still under discussion, a ring at the front-door bell is heard, and ‘a woman of very singular appearance’ is seen ‘standing in the rain, without an umbrella, as if water were her native element.’
Nell. Who can it be? [Runs to the window.] Why, how tall she is! she looks as though she had grown a foot since that dress was made for her. What an extraordinary figure! Why, Sarah is actually letting her in. Papa, we have not had so many visitors since we came here. Grimhaggard Hall is growing quite gay.
Cramp. I will go and meet this strange guest. [Exit.]
Nell. It cannot be—it cannot be Miss Cob! Such a governess would kill me either with terror or with laughter.
Wrig. You were in expectation, Madam, of some one remarkable92 for eccentricity93. We must not always judge of the qualities of the mind by the singularity of the exterior94.
Enter Mr. Cramp and Miss Cob.
Cramp. Miss Cob,—my daughter. [Nelly makes a curtsey, Miss Cob a bow.]
Nell. [Aside to Wriggle.] I shall never keep my countenance95.
Wrig. [Aside.] That is to be regretted, for it is a very fair one.
Cramp. We did not expect you to-night, Ma’am. Did you not purpose sleeping at Mouseton?
Miss C. The inn was chock-full.
Cramp. But how came you to be on foot? You never have walked all the way! Where is your conveyance? It would be of the utmost service to me.
[80]
Miss C. Smashed on the road.
Cramp. Well, if all the gigs and cabs in England are not in coalition96 against me this day! And where is your luggage?
Miss C. Coming. You did not expect me to carry it on my back, like a snail97, did ye?
Wrig. Miss Cob, like an experienced general, leaves her baggage in the rear.
Nell. I should rather have expected to find it in the van. You are very wet, Ma’am; shall I help you off with your cloak?
Miss C. O never mind. I’m neither sugar nor salt; only it’s a plaguy thing to have one’s dress so long, walking through such a bog98.
Nell. [Aside.] How long she may have had her dress, I know not; but in one sense I am sure it is short enough.
Miss C. This seems a good big house, but rather too much like a prison. Have you those bars on all the windows?
Cramp. On all.
Miss C. And how many men-servants do you keep?
Cramp. None at all. [Aside.] What impertinent curiosity!
Nell. [Aside.] Shall I venture to address her again? I can scarcely command myself. [Aloud.] Pray, Ma’am, are you fond of music?
Miss C. I’m a regular dab99 at it.
Nell. What instrument do you play?
Miss C. All sorts of instruments, from the drum to the Jew’s harp83.
Nell. You don’t play the cornopion?
Miss C. Like bricks,—and sing all the time. You shall hear me to-morrow. [All stare in mute amazement100.]
Cramp. May I trouble you, Ma’am, to let me see your letter of introduction from Lady Myres again?
Miss C. Heartily101 welcome. You will read all about me there. Full details of manners and accomplishments102. She says I’m a little absent sometimes; so if ever I make a few trifling103 blunders, I hope you’ll set them down to that score.
Nell. [Aside to Wriggles104.] I wish she were absent now, for I think I shall die in convulsions.
Miss C. I’ll teach you all sorts of things suitable for a lady. Knitting, netting,—crow—crowfoot ...
Wrig. I see that nothing is beyond your apprehension105.
Miss C. What do you say about apprehension? Are you a police officer?
[81]
Wrig. No, Madam, I am a humble44 Professor of Geography, Geology, Algebra106, and ...
Miss C. O I’m a match for you in all that, and I know Latin, Greek, and American besides.
Wrig. And what tongue, Madam, do you prefer?
Miss C. O I’m not particular about those sort of things; but if you want my opinion, why I think pickled tongues are excellent.
Wrig. [Turning away laughing.] This is either too bad or too good! [Aloud.] And your other studies, Ma’am?
Miss C. As for Arithmetics, they’re at my fingers’-ends.
Nell. I have not yet got beyond the Rule of Three.
Miss C. You shall know the Rule of Four-and-twenty, before I have done with you. We’ll skip the 4, 5, and 6.
Nell. And the Rule of Three inverse107?
Miss C. In verse? Yes, you shall have it in all sorts of verse, merry, tragical108, and comical.
Nell. [Aside.] I shall expire with laughter. [Retires to the window.]
Wrig. [Aside.] I really cannot stand this any longer. [Follows her.]
Scull (the artist). Pray, Madam, may I venture to ask if you paint?
Miss C. You are a very impudent109 fellow, to ask a gentle—woman if she paints. Do I look as if I painted?
Scull. I beg a million pardons, Ma’am, but as I paint myself ...
Miss C. You paint precious badly then, for you’re as yellow as a cowslip!
Cramp. [Aside.] Is the woman intoxicated110 or insane?
Scull. I think—I imagine that there is a little misapprehension, Ma’am, on your part. My vocation111 is that of an artist.
Nell. O Miss Cob, you must see his sketches112.
Scull. You see, Ma’am, there is a new work to come out at Christmas, which is to be entitled,—The Mouse on the Mantelpiece. The letterpress is in very able hands,—a very pretty little fairy-tale for grown-up children,—that’s all the rage now, you know, in this enlightened age. But the illustrations will be the great thing. A steel-plate frontispiece, of course, in which will be introduced a number of winged mice in a variety of positions,—a very clever thing, I can assure you; and then wood-cuts,—I have the honour of being intrusted with the designs for them. We are to have a different illustration for the top of every column.
[82]
Nell. That will no doubt be capital.
Scull. It will form a very elegant little volume altogether,—the most remarkable publication of the day.
Miss C. Well, after my wet walk, I think I’d be the better for something to warm me.
Nell. You shall have some tea directly, Ma’am.
Miss C. Tea! Wishy-washy stuff!
Nell. Would you prefer gruel113?
Miss C. Gruel! I wish you joy of your fare!
Nell. [Aside.] The fair Arithmetician looks as though she would not have 3 Scruples114 to a Dram!
Cramp. I dare say Miss Cob is fatigued115 after her long walk. Nelly, show her the apartment. I hope everything is comfortable there.
Nell. Certainly, Papa. [Aside to Wriggle.] At any rate, I will venture to say that her room is better than her company. [Exeunt Nelly and Miss Cob.]
And so on,—the wind-up of the story being that Miss Cob is found to be a burglar in woman’s disguise; while the artist is a harmless nobody. But elderly Wriggles, the tutor, who has lived quietly in the house for a month past, and of whom even Mr. Cramp has had no suspicions, turns out to be the much dreaded116 nephew, and to him by right Grimhaggard Hall now appertains. As, however, he has managed to fall deeply in love with the punning heroine, all difficulties are solved by their marriage,—Nellie being equally in love with him. Thus the nephew gains the old home, and the uncle does not lose it.
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verging
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| 接近，逼近（verge的现在分词形式） | |
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tragic
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| adj.悲剧的，悲剧性的，悲惨的 | |
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accomplished
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| adj.有才艺的；有造诣的；达到了的 | |
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farce
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| n.闹剧，笑剧，滑稽戏；胡闹 | |
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apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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countless
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quotation
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| n.引文，引语，语录；报价，牌价，行情 | |
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imprisoned
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condemned
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dungeon
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intensity
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beholds
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| v.看，注视( behold的第三人称单数 )；瞧；看呀；（叙述中用于引出某人意外的出现）哎哟 | |
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doom
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dooms
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| v.注定( doom的第三人称单数 )；判定；使…的失败（或灭亡、毁灭、坏结局）成为必然；宣判 | |
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wilt
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solitude
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espoused
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brotherhood
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remains
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innocence
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ignominious
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drawn
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gallant
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virtue
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monarch
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profane
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Forsaken
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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30
traitor
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| n.叛徒，卖国贼 | |
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31
defender
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| n.保卫者，拥护者，辩护人 | |
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32
knoll
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| n.小山，小丘 | |
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33
conceal
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| v.隐藏，隐瞒，隐蔽 | |
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34
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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35
bristle
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| v.（毛发）直立，气势汹汹，发怒；n.硬毛发 | |
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36
tempt
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| vt.引诱，勾引，吸引，引起…的兴趣 | |
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37
thorny
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| adj.多刺的，棘手的 | |
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38
spurn
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| v.拒绝，摈弃；n.轻视的拒绝；踢开 | |
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39
insignificant
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| adj.无关紧要的，可忽略的，无意义的 | |
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40
nought
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| n.／adj.无，零 | |
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41
foe
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| n.敌人，仇敌 | |
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42
worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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43
villain
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| n.反派演员，反面人物；恶棍；问题的起因 | |
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44
humble
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| adj.谦卑的，恭顺的；地位低下的；v.降低，贬低 | |
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45
humbled
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| adj. 卑下的，谦逊的，粗陋的 vt. 使 ... 卑下，贬低 | |
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46
oar
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| n.桨，橹，划手；v.划行 | |
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47
pinion
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| v.束缚；n.小齿轮 | |
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48
plume
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| n.羽毛；v.整理羽毛，骚首弄姿，用羽毛装饰 | |
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49
kindling
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| n. 点火, 可燃物 动词kindle的现在分词形式 | |
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50
emulation
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| n.竞争；仿效 | |
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51
lasting
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| adj.永久的，永恒的；vbl.持续，维持 | |
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52
hearty
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| adj.热情友好的；衷心的；尽情的，纵情的 | |
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53
illustrate
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| v.举例说明，阐明；图解，加插图 | |
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54
frisky
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| adj.活泼的，欢闹的；n.活泼，闹着玩；adv.活泼地，闹着玩地 | |
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55
frolicsome
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| adj.嬉戏的，闹着玩的 | |
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56
cramp
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| n.痉挛；[pl.](腹)绞痛；vt.限制，束缚 | |
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57
wriggle
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| v./n.蠕动，扭动；蜿蜒 | |
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58
petrify
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| vt.使发呆；使…变成化石 | |
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59
oblivious
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| adj.易忘的，遗忘的，忘却的，健忘的 | |
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60
atlas
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| n.地图册，图表集 | |
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61
repent
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| v.悔悟，悔改，忏悔，后悔 | |
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62
toad
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| n.蟾蜍，癞蛤蟆 | |
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63
distinguished
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| adj.卓越的，杰出的，著名的 | |
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64
ornament
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| v.装饰，美化；n.装饰，装饰物 | |
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utilitarian
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| adj.实用的，功利的 | |
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66
chili
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| n.辣椒 | |
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67
derived
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| vi.起源；由来；衍生；导出v.得到( derive的过去式和过去分词 )；（从…中）得到获得；源于；（从…中）提取 | |
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68
botanist
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| n.植物学家 | |
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69
specimens
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| n.样品( specimen的名词复数 )；范例；（化验的）抽样；某种类型的人 | |
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isles
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| 岛( isle的名词复数 ) | |
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71
prim
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| adj.拘泥形式的，一本正经的；n.循规蹈矩，整洁；adv.循规蹈矩地，整洁地 | |
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presumptuous
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| adj.胆大妄为的，放肆的，冒昧的，冒失的 | |
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folly
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| n.愚笨，愚蠢，蠢事，蠢行，傻话 | |
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thereby
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| adv.因此，从而 | |
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75
consigned
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| v.把…置于（令人不快的境地）( consign的过去式和过去分词 )；把…托付给；把…托人代售；丟弃 | |
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76
promising
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| adj.有希望的，有前途的 | |
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77
reign
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| n.统治时期，统治，支配，盛行；v.占优势 | |
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78
absurdity
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| n.荒谬，愚蠢；谬论 | |
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79
radical
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| n.激进份子，原子团，根号；adj.根本的，激进的，彻底的 | |
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perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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81
revert
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| v.恢复，复归，回到 | |
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82
enjoyment
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| n.乐趣；享有；享用 | |
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83
harp
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| n.竖琴；天琴座 | |
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84
regain
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| vt.重新获得，收复，恢复 | |
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85
lackey
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| n.侍从；跟班 | |
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86
apothecary
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| n.药剂师 | |
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87
wig
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| n.假发 | |
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88
disquiet
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| n.担心，焦虑 | |
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89
determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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90
pelting
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| 微不足道的，无价值的，盛怒的 | |
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91
conveyance
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| n.(不动产等的)转让，让与；转让证书；传送；运送；表达；（正）运输工具 | |
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92
remarkable
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| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
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93
eccentricity
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| n.古怪，反常，怪癖 | |
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94
exterior
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| adj.外部的，外在的；表面的 | |
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95
countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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96
coalition
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| n.结合体，同盟，结合，联合 | |
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97
snail
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| n.蜗牛 | |
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98
bog
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| n.沼泽；室...陷入泥淖 | |
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99
dab
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| v.轻触，轻拍，轻涂；n.(颜料等的)轻涂 | |
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100
amazement
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| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
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101
heartily
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| adv.衷心地，诚恳地，十分，很 | |
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102
accomplishments
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| n.造诣；完成( accomplishment的名词复数 )；技能；成绩；成就 | |
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103
trifling
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| adj.微不足道的；没什么价值的 | |
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104
wriggles
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| n.蠕动，扭动( wriggle的名词复数 )v.扭动，蠕动，蜿蜒行进( wriggle的第三人称单数 )；（使身体某一部位）扭动；耍滑不做，逃避（应做的事等） | |
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105
apprehension
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| n.理解，领悟；逮捕，拘捕；忧虑 | |
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106
algebra
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| n.代数学 | |
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107
inverse
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| adj.相反的，倒转的，反转的；n.相反之物；v.倒转 | |
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108
tragical
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| adj. 悲剧的, 悲剧性的 | |
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109
impudent
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| adj.鲁莽的，卑鄙的，厚颜无耻的 | |
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110
intoxicated
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| 喝醉的，极其兴奋的 | |
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111
vocation
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| n.职业，行业 | |
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112
sketches
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| n.草图( sketch的名词复数 )；素描；速写；梗概 | |
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113
gruel
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| n.稀饭，粥 | |
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114
scruples
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| n.良心上的不安( scruple的名词复数 )；顾虑，顾忌v.感到于心不安，有顾忌( scruple的第三人称单数 ) | |
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115
fatigued
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| adj. 疲乏的 | |
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116
dreaded
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| adj.令人畏惧的；害怕的v.害怕，恐惧，担心( dread的过去式和过去分词) | |
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