章节正文
SHAWN. Didn't I say it was Father Reilly . . .
PEGEEN. Go on, then, to Father Reilly (in a jeering tone), and let him put
you in the holy brotherhoods, and leave that lad to me.
SHAWN. If I meet the Widow Quin . . .
PEGEEN. Go on, I'm saying, and don't be waking this place with your noise.
(She hustles him out and bolts the door.) That lad would wear the spirits
from the saints of peace. (Bustles about, then takes off her apron and pins
it up in the window as a blind. Christy watching her timidly. Then she comes
to him and speaks with bland good-humour.) Let you stretch out now by the
fire, young fellow. You should be destroyed travelling.
CHRISTY -- [shyly again, drawing off his boots.) I'm tired, surely, walking
wild eleven days, and waking fearful in the night. [He holds up one of his
feet, feeling his blisters, and looking at them with compassion.]
PEGEEN -- [standing beside him, watching him with delight.] -- You should have
had great people in your family, I'm thinking, with the little, small feet you
have, and you with a kind of a quality name, the like of what you'd find on
the great powers and potentates of France and Spain.
CHRISTY -- [with pride.] -- We were great surely, with wide and windy acres of
rich Munster land.
PEGEEN. Wasn't I telling you, and you a fine, handsome young fellow with a
noble brow?
CHRISTY -- [with a flash of delighted surprise.] Is it me?
PEGEEN. Aye. Did you never hear that from the young girls where you come
from in the west or south?
CHRISTY -- [with venom.] -- I did not then. Oh, they're bloody liars in the
naked parish where I grew a man.
PEGEEN. If they are itself, you've heard it these days, I'm thinking, and you
walking the world telling out your story to young girls or old.
CHRISTY. I've told my story no place till this night, Pegeen Mike, and it's
foolish I was here, maybe, to be talking free, but you're decent people, I'm
thinking, and yourself a kindly woman, the way I wasn't fearing you at all.
PEGEEN -- [filling a sack with straw.] -- You've said the like of that, maybe,
in every cot and cabin where you've met a young girl on your way.
CHRISTY -- [going over to her, gradually raising his voice.] -- I've said it
nowhere till this night, I'm telling you, for I've seen none the like of you
the eleven long days I am walking the world, looking over a low ditch or a
high ditch on my north or my south, into stony scattered fields, or scribes of
bog, where you'd see young, limber girls, and fine prancing women making
laughter with the men.
PEGEEN. If you weren't destroyed travelling, you'd have as much talk and
streeleen, I'm thinking, as Owen Roe O'Sullivan or the poets of the Dingle
Bay, and I've heard all times it's the poets are your like, fine fiery fellows
with great rages when their temper's roused.
CHRISTY -- [drawing a little nearer to her.] -- You've a power of rings, God
bless you, and would there be any offence if I was asking are you single now?
PEGEEN. What would I want wedding so young?
CHRISTY -- [with relief.] -- We're alike, so.
PEGEEN -- [she puts sack on settle and beats it up.] -- I never killed my
father. I'd be afeard to do that, except I was the like of yourself with
blind rages tearing me within, for I'm thinking you should have had great
tussling when the end was come.
CHRISTY -- [expanding with delight at the first confidential talk he has ever
had with a woman.] -- We had not then. It was a hard woman was come over the
hill, and if he was always a crusty kind when he'd a hard woman setting him
on, not the divil himself or his four fathers could put up with him at all.
PEGEEN -- [with curiosity.] -- And isn't it a great wonder that one wasn't
fearing you?
CHRISTY -- [very confidentially.] -- Up to the day I killed my father, there
wasn't a person in Ireland knew the kind I was, and I there drinking, waking,
eating, sleeping, a quiet, simple poor fellow with no man giving me heed.
PEGEEN -- [getting a quilt out of the cupboard and putting it on the sack.] --
It was the girls were giving you heed maybe, and I'm thinking it's most
conceit you'd have to be gaming with their like.
CHRISTY -- [shaking his head, with simplicity.] Not the girls itself, and I
won't tell you a lie. There wasn't anyone heeding me in that place saving
only the dumb beasts of the field. [He sits down at fire.]
PEGEEN -- [with disappointment.] -- And I thinking you should have been living
the like of a king of Norway or the Eastern world. [She comes and sits beside
him after placing bread and mug of milk on the table.]
CHRISTY -- [laughing piteously.] -- The like of a king, is it? And I after
toiling, moiling, digging, dodging from the dawn till dusk with never a sight
of joy or sport saving only when I'd be abroad in the dark night poaching
rabbits on hills, for I was a devil to poach, God forgive me, (very naively)
and I near got six months for going with a dung fork and stabbing a fish.
PEGEEN. And it's that you'd call sport, is it, to be abroad in the darkness
with yourself alone?
CHRISTY. I did, God help me, and there I'd be as happy as the sunshine of St.
Martin's Day, watching the light passing the north or the patches of fog, till
I'd hear a rabbit starting to screech and I'd go running in the furze. Then
when I'd my full share I'd come walking down where you'd see the ducks and
geese stretched sleeping on the highway of the road, and before I'd pass the
dunghill, I'd hear himself snoring out, a loud lonesome snore he'd be making
all times, the while he was sleeping, and he a man 'd be raging all times, the
while he was waking, like a gaudy officer you'd hear cursing and damning and
swearing oaths.
PEGEEN. Providence and Mercy, spare us all!
CHRISTY. It's that you'd say surely if you seen him and he after drinking for
weeks, rising up in the red dawn, or before it maybe, and going out into the
yard as naked as an ash tree in the moon of May, and shying clods against the
visage of the stars till he'd put the fear of death into the banbhs and the
screeching sows.
PEGEEN. I'd be well-night afeard of that lad myself, I'm thinking. And there
was no one in it but the two of you alone?
CHRISTY. The divil a one, though he'd sons and daughters walking all great
states and territories of the world, and not a one of them, to this day, but
would say their seven curses on him, and they rousing up to let a cough or
sneeze, maybe, in the deadness of the night.
PEGEEN [nodding her head.] -- Well, you should have been a queer lot. I
never cursed my father the like of that, though I'm twenty and more years of
age.
CHRISTY. Then you'd have cursed mine, I'm telling you, and he a man never
gave peace to any, saving when he'd get two months or three, or be locked in
the asylums for battering peelers or assaulting men (with depression) the way
it was a bitter life he led me till I did up a Tuesday and halve his skull.
PEGEEN -- [putting her hand on his shoulder.] -- Well, you'll have peace in
this place, Christy Mahon, and none to trouble you, and it's near time a fine
lad like you should have your good share of the earth.
CHRISTY. It's time surely, and I a seemly fellow with great strength in me
and bravery of . . . [Someone knocks.]
CHRISTY -- [clinging to Pegeen.] -- Oh, glory! it's late for knocking, and
this last while I'm in terror of the peelers, and the walking dead. [Knocking
again.]
PEGEEN. Who's there?
VOICE -- [outside.] Me.
PEGEEN. Who's me?
VOICE. The Widow Quin.
PEGEEN [jumping up and giving him the bread and milk.] -- Go on now with your
supper, and let on to be sleepy, for if she found you were such a warrant to
talk, she'd be stringing gabble till the dawn of day. (He takes bread and
sits shyly with his back to the door.)
PEGEEN [opening door, with temper.] -- What ails you, or what is it you're
wanting at this hour of the night?
WIDOW QUIN -- [coming in a step and peering at Christy.] -- I'm after meeting
Shawn Keogh and Father Reilly below, who told me of your curiosity man, and
they fearing by this time he was maybe roaring, romping on your hands with
drink.
PEGEEN [pointing to Christy.] -- Look now is he roaring, and he stretched
away drowsy with his supper and his mug of milk. Walk down and tell that to
Father Reilly and to Shaneen Keogh.
WIDOW QUIN -- [coming forward.] -- I'll not see them again, for I've their
word to lead that lad forward for to lodge with me.
PEGEEN -- [in blank amazement.] -- This night, is it?
WIDOW QUIN -- [going over.] -- This night. "It isn't fitting," says the
priesteen, "to have his likenesslodging with an orphaned girl." (To
Christy.) God save you, mister!
CHRISTY -- [shyly.] -- God save you kindly.
WIDOW QUIN -- [looking at him with half-amazed curiosity.] -- Well, aren't you
a little smiling fellow? It should have been great and bitter torments did
rouse your spirits to a deed of blood.
CHRISTY -- [doubtfully.] It should, maybe.
WIDOW QUIN. It's more than "maybe" I'm saying, and it'd soften my heart to
see you sitting so simple with your cup and cake, and you fitter to be saying
your catechism than slaying your da.
PEGEEN -- [at counter, washing glasses.] -- There's talking when any'd see
he's fit to be holding his head high with the wonders of the world. Walk on
from this, for I'll not have him tormented and he destroyed travelling since
Tuesday was a week.
WIDOW QUIN -- [peaceably.] We'll be walking surely when his supper's done,
and you'll find we're great company, young fellow, when it's of the like of
you and me you'd hear the penny poets singing in an August Fair.
CHRISTY -- [innocently.] Did you kill your father?
PEGEEN -- [contemptuously.] She did not. She hit himself with a worn pick,
and the rusted poison did corrode his blood the way he never overed it, and
died after. That was a sneaky kind of murder did win small glory with the
boys itself. [She crosses to Christy's left.]
WIDOW QUIN -- [with good-humour.] -- If it didn't, maybe all knows a widow
woman has buried her children and destroyed her man is a wiser comrade for a
young lad than a girl, the like of you, who'd go helter-skeltering after any
man would let you a wink upon the road.
PEGEEN -- [breaking out into wild rage.] -- And you'll say that, Widow Quin,
and you gasping with the rage you had racing the hill beyond to look on his
face.
WIDOW QUIN -- [laughing derisively.] -- Me, is it? Well, Father Reilly has
cuteness to divide you now. (She pulls Christy up.) There's great temptation
in a man did slay his da, and we'd best be going, young fellow; so rise up and
come with me.
PEGEEN -- [seizing his arm.] -- He'll not stir. He's pot-boy in this place,
and I'll not have him stolen off and kidnabbed while himself's abroad.
WIDOW QUIN. It'd be a crazy pot-boy'd lodge him in the shebeen where he works
by day, so you'd have a right to come on, young fellow, till you see my little
houseen, a perch off on the rising hill.
PEGEEN. Wait till morning, Christy Mahon. Wait till you lay eyes on her
leaky thatch is growing more pasture for her buck goat than her square of
fields, and she without a tramp itself to keep in order her place at all.
WIDOW QUIN. When you see me contriving in my little gardens, Christy Mahon,
you'll swear the Lord God formed me to be living lone, and that there isn't my
match in Mayo for thatching, or mowing, or shearing a sheep.
PEGEEN -- [with noisy scorn.] -- It's true the Lord God formed you to contrive
indeed. Doesn't the world know you reared a black lamb at your own breast, so
that the Lord Bishop of Connaught felt the elements of a Christian, and he
eating it after in a kidney stew? Doesn't the world know you've been seen
shaving the foxy skipper from France for a threepenny bit and a sop of grass
tobacco would wring the liver from a mountain goat you'd meet leaping the
hills?
WIDOW QUIN -- [with amusement.] -- Do you hear her now, young fellow? Do you
hear the way she'll be rating at your own self when a week is by?
PEGEEN -- [to Christy.] -- Don't heed her. Tell her to go into her pigsty and
not plague us here.
WIDOW QUIN. I'm going; but he'll come with me.
PEGEEN -- [shaking him.] -- Are you dumb, young fellow?
CHRISTY -- [timidly, to Widow Quin.] -- God increase you; but I'm pot-boy in
this place, and it's here I'd liefer stay.
PEGEEN -- [triumphantly.] Now you have heard him, and go on from this.
WIDOW QUIN -- [looking round the room.] -- It's lonesome this hour crossing
the hill, and if he won't come along with me, I'd have a right maybe to stop
this night with yourselves. Let me stretch out on the settle, Pegeen Mike;
and himself can lie by the hearth.
PEGEEN -- [short and fiercely.] -- Faith, I won't. Quit off or I will send
you now.
WIDOW QUIN -- [gathering her shawl up.] -- Well, it's a terror to be aged a
score. (To Christy.) God bless you now, young fellow, and let you be wary,
PEGEEN. Go on, then, to Father Reilly (in a jeering tone), and let him put
you in the holy brotherhoods, and leave that lad to me.
SHAWN. If I meet the Widow Quin . . .
PEGEEN. Go on, I'm saying, and don't be waking this place with your noise.
(She hustles him out and bolts the door.) That lad would wear the spirits
from the saints of peace. (Bustles about, then takes off her apron and pins
it up in the window as a blind. Christy watching her timidly. Then she comes
to him and speaks with bland good-humour.) Let you stretch out now by the
fire, young fellow. You should be destroyed travelling.
CHRISTY -- [shyly again, drawing off his boots.) I'm tired, surely, walking
wild eleven days, and waking fearful in the night. [He holds up one of his
feet, feeling his blisters, and looking at them with compassion.]
PEGEEN -- [standing beside him, watching him with delight.] -- You should have
had great people in your family, I'm thinking, with the little, small feet you
have, and you with a kind of a quality name, the like of what you'd find on
the great powers and potentates of France and Spain.
CHRISTY -- [with pride.] -- We were great surely, with wide and windy acres of
rich Munster land.
PEGEEN. Wasn't I telling you, and you a fine, handsome young fellow with a
noble brow?
CHRISTY -- [with a flash of delighted surprise.] Is it me?
PEGEEN. Aye. Did you never hear that from the young girls where you come
from in the west or south?
CHRISTY -- [with venom.] -- I did not then. Oh, they're bloody liars in the
naked parish where I grew a man.
PEGEEN. If they are itself, you've heard it these days, I'm thinking, and you
walking the world telling out your story to young girls or old.
CHRISTY. I've told my story no place till this night, Pegeen Mike, and it's
foolish I was here, maybe, to be talking free, but you're decent people, I'm
thinking, and yourself a kindly woman, the way I wasn't fearing you at all.
PEGEEN -- [filling a sack with straw.] -- You've said the like of that, maybe,
in every cot and cabin where you've met a young girl on your way.
CHRISTY -- [going over to her, gradually raising his voice.] -- I've said it
nowhere till this night, I'm telling you, for I've seen none the like of you
the eleven long days I am walking the world, looking over a low ditch or a
high ditch on my north or my south, into stony scattered fields, or scribes of
bog, where you'd see young, limber girls, and fine prancing women making
laughter with the men.
PEGEEN. If you weren't destroyed travelling, you'd have as much talk and
streeleen, I'm thinking, as Owen Roe O'Sullivan or the poets of the Dingle
Bay, and I've heard all times it's the poets are your like, fine fiery fellows
with great rages when their temper's roused.
CHRISTY -- [drawing a little nearer to her.] -- You've a power of rings, God
bless you, and would there be any offence if I was asking are you single now?
PEGEEN. What would I want wedding so young?
CHRISTY -- [with relief.] -- We're alike, so.
PEGEEN -- [she puts sack on settle and beats it up.] -- I never killed my
father. I'd be afeard to do that, except I was the like of yourself with
blind rages tearing me within, for I'm thinking you should have had great
tussling when the end was come.
CHRISTY -- [expanding with delight at the first confidential talk he has ever
had with a woman.] -- We had not then. It was a hard woman was come over the
hill, and if he was always a crusty kind when he'd a hard woman setting him
on, not the divil himself or his four fathers could put up with him at all.
PEGEEN -- [with curiosity.] -- And isn't it a great wonder that one wasn't
fearing you?
CHRISTY -- [very confidentially.] -- Up to the day I killed my father, there
wasn't a person in Ireland knew the kind I was, and I there drinking, waking,
eating, sleeping, a quiet, simple poor fellow with no man giving me heed.
PEGEEN -- [getting a quilt out of the cupboard and putting it on the sack.] --
It was the girls were giving you heed maybe, and I'm thinking it's most
conceit you'd have to be gaming with their like.
CHRISTY -- [shaking his head, with simplicity.] Not the girls itself, and I
won't tell you a lie. There wasn't anyone heeding me in that place saving
only the dumb beasts of the field. [He sits down at fire.]
PEGEEN -- [with disappointment.] -- And I thinking you should have been living
the like of a king of Norway or the Eastern world. [She comes and sits beside
him after placing bread and mug of milk on the table.]
CHRISTY -- [laughing piteously.] -- The like of a king, is it? And I after
toiling, moiling, digging, dodging from the dawn till dusk with never a sight
of joy or sport saving only when I'd be abroad in the dark night poaching
rabbits on hills, for I was a devil to poach, God forgive me, (very naively)
and I near got six months for going with a dung fork and stabbing a fish.
PEGEEN. And it's that you'd call sport, is it, to be abroad in the darkness
with yourself alone?
CHRISTY. I did, God help me, and there I'd be as happy as the sunshine of St.
Martin's Day, watching the light passing the north or the patches of fog, till
I'd hear a rabbit starting to screech and I'd go running in the furze. Then
when I'd my full share I'd come walking down where you'd see the ducks and
geese stretched sleeping on the highway of the road, and before I'd pass the
dunghill, I'd hear himself snoring out, a loud lonesome snore he'd be making
all times, the while he was sleeping, and he a man 'd be raging all times, the
while he was waking, like a gaudy officer you'd hear cursing and damning and
swearing oaths.
PEGEEN. Providence and Mercy, spare us all!
CHRISTY. It's that you'd say surely if you seen him and he after drinking for
weeks, rising up in the red dawn, or before it maybe, and going out into the
yard as naked as an ash tree in the moon of May, and shying clods against the
visage of the stars till he'd put the fear of death into the banbhs and the
screeching sows.
PEGEEN. I'd be well-night afeard of that lad myself, I'm thinking. And there
was no one in it but the two of you alone?
CHRISTY. The divil a one, though he'd sons and daughters walking all great
states and territories of the world, and not a one of them, to this day, but
would say their seven curses on him, and they rousing up to let a cough or
sneeze, maybe, in the deadness of the night.
PEGEEN [nodding her head.] -- Well, you should have been a queer lot. I
never cursed my father the like of that, though I'm twenty and more years of
age.
CHRISTY. Then you'd have cursed mine, I'm telling you, and he a man never
gave peace to any, saving when he'd get two months or three, or be locked in
the asylums for battering peelers or assaulting men (with depression) the way
it was a bitter life he led me till I did up a Tuesday and halve his skull.
PEGEEN -- [putting her hand on his shoulder.] -- Well, you'll have peace in
this place, Christy Mahon, and none to trouble you, and it's near time a fine
lad like you should have your good share of the earth.
CHRISTY. It's time surely, and I a seemly fellow with great strength in me
and bravery of . . . [Someone knocks.]
CHRISTY -- [clinging to Pegeen.] -- Oh, glory! it's late for knocking, and
this last while I'm in terror of the peelers, and the walking dead. [Knocking
again.]
PEGEEN. Who's there?
VOICE -- [outside.] Me.
PEGEEN. Who's me?
VOICE. The Widow Quin.
PEGEEN [jumping up and giving him the bread and milk.] -- Go on now with your
supper, and let on to be sleepy, for if she found you were such a warrant to
talk, she'd be stringing gabble till the dawn of day. (He takes bread and
sits shyly with his back to the door.)
PEGEEN [opening door, with temper.] -- What ails you, or what is it you're
wanting at this hour of the night?
WIDOW QUIN -- [coming in a step and peering at Christy.] -- I'm after meeting
Shawn Keogh and Father Reilly below, who told me of your curiosity man, and
they fearing by this time he was maybe roaring, romping on your hands with
drink.
PEGEEN [pointing to Christy.] -- Look now is he roaring, and he stretched
away drowsy with his supper and his mug of milk. Walk down and tell that to
Father Reilly and to Shaneen Keogh.
WIDOW QUIN -- [coming forward.] -- I'll not see them again, for I've their
word to lead that lad forward for to lodge with me.
PEGEEN -- [in blank amazement.] -- This night, is it?
WIDOW QUIN -- [going over.] -- This night. "It isn't fitting," says the
priesteen, "to have his likenesslodging with an orphaned girl." (To
Christy.) God save you, mister!
CHRISTY -- [shyly.] -- God save you kindly.
WIDOW QUIN -- [looking at him with half-amazed curiosity.] -- Well, aren't you
a little smiling fellow? It should have been great and bitter torments did
rouse your spirits to a deed of blood.
CHRISTY -- [doubtfully.] It should, maybe.
WIDOW QUIN. It's more than "maybe" I'm saying, and it'd soften my heart to
see you sitting so simple with your cup and cake, and you fitter to be saying
your catechism than slaying your da.
PEGEEN -- [at counter, washing glasses.] -- There's talking when any'd see
he's fit to be holding his head high with the wonders of the world. Walk on
from this, for I'll not have him tormented and he destroyed travelling since
Tuesday was a week.
WIDOW QUIN -- [peaceably.] We'll be walking surely when his supper's done,
and you'll find we're great company, young fellow, when it's of the like of
you and me you'd hear the penny poets singing in an August Fair.
CHRISTY -- [innocently.] Did you kill your father?
PEGEEN -- [contemptuously.] She did not. She hit himself with a worn pick,
and the rusted poison did corrode his blood the way he never overed it, and
died after. That was a sneaky kind of murder did win small glory with the
boys itself. [She crosses to Christy's left.]
WIDOW QUIN -- [with good-humour.] -- If it didn't, maybe all knows a widow
woman has buried her children and destroyed her man is a wiser comrade for a
young lad than a girl, the like of you, who'd go helter-skeltering after any
man would let you a wink upon the road.
PEGEEN -- [breaking out into wild rage.] -- And you'll say that, Widow Quin,
and you gasping with the rage you had racing the hill beyond to look on his
face.
WIDOW QUIN -- [laughing derisively.] -- Me, is it? Well, Father Reilly has
cuteness to divide you now. (She pulls Christy up.) There's great temptation
in a man did slay his da, and we'd best be going, young fellow; so rise up and
come with me.
PEGEEN -- [seizing his arm.] -- He'll not stir. He's pot-boy in this place,
and I'll not have him stolen off and kidnabbed while himself's abroad.
WIDOW QUIN. It'd be a crazy pot-boy'd lodge him in the shebeen where he works
by day, so you'd have a right to come on, young fellow, till you see my little
houseen, a perch off on the rising hill.
PEGEEN. Wait till morning, Christy Mahon. Wait till you lay eyes on her
leaky thatch is growing more pasture for her buck goat than her square of
fields, and she without a tramp itself to keep in order her place at all.
WIDOW QUIN. When you see me contriving in my little gardens, Christy Mahon,
you'll swear the Lord God formed me to be living lone, and that there isn't my
match in Mayo for thatching, or mowing, or shearing a sheep.
PEGEEN -- [with noisy scorn.] -- It's true the Lord God formed you to contrive
indeed. Doesn't the world know you reared a black lamb at your own breast, so
that the Lord Bishop of Connaught felt the elements of a Christian, and he
eating it after in a kidney stew? Doesn't the world know you've been seen
shaving the foxy skipper from France for a threepenny bit and a sop of grass
tobacco would wring the liver from a mountain goat you'd meet leaping the
hills?
WIDOW QUIN -- [with amusement.] -- Do you hear her now, young fellow? Do you
hear the way she'll be rating at your own self when a week is by?
PEGEEN -- [to Christy.] -- Don't heed her. Tell her to go into her pigsty and
not plague us here.
WIDOW QUIN. I'm going; but he'll come with me.
PEGEEN -- [shaking him.] -- Are you dumb, young fellow?
CHRISTY -- [timidly, to Widow Quin.] -- God increase you; but I'm pot-boy in
this place, and it's here I'd liefer stay.
PEGEEN -- [triumphantly.] Now you have heard him, and go on from this.
WIDOW QUIN -- [looking round the room.] -- It's lonesome this hour crossing
the hill, and if he won't come along with me, I'd have a right maybe to stop
this night with yourselves. Let me stretch out on the settle, Pegeen Mike;
and himself can lie by the hearth.
PEGEEN -- [short and fiercely.] -- Faith, I won't. Quit off or I will send
you now.
WIDOW QUIN -- [gathering her shawl up.] -- Well, it's a terror to be aged a
score. (To Christy.) God bless you now, young fellow, and let you be wary,
- fearful [´fiəfəl]
a.可怕的；担心的 (初中英语单词) - bloody [´blʌdi] a.(流)血的；血腥的 (初中英语单词)
- wedding [´wediŋ] n.婚礼，结婚 (初中英语单词)
- sleeping [´sli:piŋ] n.&a.睡着(的) (初中英语单词)
- abroad [ə´brɔ:d] ad.海外；到处；广泛 (初中英语单词)
- forgive [fə´giv] vt.原谅，谅解，宽恕 (初中英语单词)
- sunshine [´sʌnʃain] n.日光，阳光 (初中英语单词)
- rabbit [´ræbit] n.兔子，野兔 (初中英语单词)
- running [´rʌniŋ] a.奔跑的；流动的 (初中英语单词)
- highway [´haiwei] n.公路，大道 (初中英语单词)
- terror [´terə] n.恐怖；惊骇 (初中英语单词)
- curiosity [,kjuəri´ɔsiti] n.好奇；奇事；珍品 (初中英语单词)
- soften [´sɔfən] v.使(变)软(柔和) (初中英语单词)
- poison [´pɔizən] n.毒物 v.毒害 a.有毒的 (初中英语单词)
- stolen [´stəulən] steal 的过去分词 (初中英语单词)
- pasture [´pɑ:stʃə] n.牧场；放牧 v.吃(草) (初中英语单词)
- bishop [´biʃəp] n.主教 (初中英语单词)
- saying [´seiŋ, ´sei-iŋ] n.言语；言论；格言 (高中英语单词)
- parish [´pæriʃ] n.教区(的全体居民) (高中英语单词)
- decent [´di:sənt] a.体面的，正派的 (高中英语单词)
- ireland [´aiələnd] n.爱尔兰 (高中英语单词)
- cupboard [´kʌbəd] n.碗柜，食橱 (高中英语单词)
- norway [´nɔ:wei] n.挪威 (高中英语单词)
- lonesome [´ləunsəm] a.孤独的；冷清清的 (高中英语单词)
- sleepy [´sli:pi] a.困的，想睡的 (高中英语单词)
- drowsy [´drauzi] a.困倦的；催眠的 (高中英语单词)
- likeness [´laiknis] n.相似；肖像；外表 (高中英语单词)
- lodging [´lɔdʒiŋ] n.寄宿，住宿 (高中英语单词)
- counter [´kauntə] n.计算者；柜台；计算机 (高中英语单词)
- plague [pleig] n.瘟疫 vt.使...染疫 (高中英语单词)
- drawing [´drɔ:iŋ] n.画图；制图；图样 (英语四级单词)
- delighted [di´laitid] a.高兴的；喜欢的 (英语四级单词)
- confidential [,kɔnfi´denʃəl] a.极受信任的；心腹的 (英语四级单词)
- setting [´setiŋ] n.安装；排字；布景 (英语四级单词)
- screech [skri:tʃ] v.&n.尖叫(声) (英语四级单词)
- providence [´prɔvidəns] n.天意，天命，上帝 (英语四级单词)
- bravery [´breivəri] n.勇敢，大胆，刚毅 (英语四级单词)
- warrant [´wɔrənt] n.根据；委任书；权利 (英语四级单词)
- thatch [θætʃ] n.茅草屋顶 (英语四级单词)
- mowing [´məuiŋ] n.割草(谷)；饲料地 (英语四级单词)
- skipper [´skipə] n.&vi.(当)船长 (英语四级单词)
- timidly [´timidli] ad.胆怯地 (英语六级单词)
- holding [´həuldiŋ] n.保持，固定，存储 (英语六级单词)
- august [ɔ:´gʌst] a.尊严的；威严的 (英语六级单词)
- kidney [´kidni] n.肾；性格；脾气 (英语六级单词)
文章标签:名著
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