章节正文
"Well, you have only eight hundred now to get," remarked the count,
who considered this moan, addressed to Pere Leger, a sort of letter of
credit drawn upon himself.
"True," said Pierrotin. "Xi! xi! Rougeot!"
"You must have seen many fine ceilings in Venice," resumed the count,
addressing Schinner.
"I was too much in love to take any notice of what seemed to me then
mere trifles," replied Schinner. "But I was soon cured of that folly,
for it was in the Venetian states--in Dalmatia--that I received a
cruel lesson."
"Can it be told?" asked Georges. "I know Dalmatia very well."
"Well, if you have been there, you know that all the people at that
end of the Adriatic are pirates, rovers, corsairs retired from
business, as they haven't been hanged--"
"Uscoques," said Georges.
Hearing the right name given, the count, who had been sent by Napoleon
on one occasion to the Illyrian provinces, turned his head and looked
at Georges, so surprised was he.
"The affair happened in that town where they make maraschino,"
continued Schinner, seeming to search for a name.
"Zara," said Georges. "I've been there; it is on the coast."
"You are right," said the painter. "I had gone there to look at the
country, for I adore scenery. I've longed a score of times to paint
landscape, which no one, as I think, understands but Mistigris, who
will some day reproduce Hobbema, Ruysdael, Claude Lorrain, Poussin,
and others."
"But," exclaimed the count, "if he reproduces one of them won't that
be enough?"
"If you persist in interrupting, monsieur," said Oscar, "we shall
never get on."
"And Monsieur Schinner was not addressing himself to you in
particular," added Georges.
"'Tisn't polite to interrupt," said Mistigris, sententiously, "but we
all do it, and conversation would lose a great deal if we didn't
scatter little condiments while exchanging our reflections. Therefore,
continue, agreeable old gentleman, to lecture us, if you like. It is
done in the best society, and you know the proverb: 'we must 'owl with
the wolves.'"
"I had heard marvellous things of Dalmatia," resumed Schinner, "so I
went there, leaving Mistigris in Venice at an inn--"
"'Locanda,'" interposed Mistigris; "keep to the local color."
"Zara is what is called a country town--"
"Yes," said Georges; "but it is fortified."
"Parbleu!" said Schinner; "the fortifications count for much in my
adventure. At Zara there are a great many apothecaries. I lodged with
one. In foreign countries everybody makes a principal business of
letting lodgings; all other trades are accessory. In the evening,
linen changed, I sat in my balcony. In the opposite balcony I saw a
woman; oh! such a woman! Greek,--THAT TELLS ALL! The most beautiful
creature in the town; almond eyes, lids that dropped like curtains,
lashes like a paint-brush, a face with an oval to drive Raffaelle mad,
a skin of the most delicious coloring, tints well-blended, velvety!
and hands, oh!--"
"They weren't made of butter like those of the David school," put in
Mistigris.
"You are always lugging in your painting," cried Georges.
"La, la!" retorted Mistigris; "'an ounce o' paint is worth a pound of
swagger.'"
"And such a costume! pure Greek!" continued Schinner. "Conflagration
of soul! you understand? Well, I questioned my Diafoirus; and he told
me that my neighbor was named Zena. Changed my linen. The husband, an
old villain, in order to marry Zena, paid three hundred thousand
francs to her father and mother, so celebrated was the beauty of that
beautiful creature, who was truly the most beautiful girl in all
Dalmatia, Illyria, Adriatica, and other places. In those parts they
buy their wives without seeing them--"
"I shall not go THERE," said Pere Leger.
"There are nights when my sleep is still illuminated by the eyes of
Zena," continued Schinner. "The husband was sixty-nine years of age,
and jealous! not as a tiger, for they say of a tiger, 'jealous as a
Dalmatian'; and my man was worse than A Dalmatian, one Dalmatian,--he
was three and a half Dalmatians at the very least; he was an Uscoque,
tricoque, archicoque in a bicoque of a paltry little place like
Zara--"
"Horrid fellow, and 'horrider bellow,'" put in Mistigris.
"Ha! good," said Georges, laughing.
"After being a corsair, and probably a pirate, he thought no more of
spitting a Christian on his dagger than I did of spitting on the
ground," continued Schinner. "So that was how the land lay. The old
wretch had millions, and was hideous with the loss of an ear some
pacha had cut off, and the want of an eye left I don't know where.
'Never,' said the little Diafoirus, 'never does he leave his wife,
never for a second.' 'Perhaps she'll want your services, and I could
go in your clothes; that's a trick that has great success in our
theatres,' I told him. Well, it would take too long to tell you all
the delicious moments of that lifetime--to wit, three days--which I
passed exchanging looks with Zena, and changing linen every day. It
was all the more violently titillating because the slightest motion
was significant and dangerous. At last it must have dawned upon Zena's
mind that none but a Frenchman and an artist was daring enough to make
eyes at her in the midst of the perils by which she was surrounded;
and as she hated her hideouspirate, she answered my glances with
delightful ogles fit to raise a man to the summit of Paradise without
pulleys. I attained to the height of Don Quixote; I rose to
exaltation! and I cried: 'The monster may kill me, but I'll go, I'll
go!' I gave up landscape and studied the ignobledwelling of the
Uscoque. That night, changed linen, and put on the most perfumed shirt
I had; then I crossed the street, and entered--"
"The house?" cried Oscar.
"The house?" echoed Georges.
"The house," said Schinner.
"Well, you're a bold dog," cried farmer Leger. "I should have kept out
of it myself."
"Especially as you could never have got through the doorway," replied
Schinner. "So in I went," he resumed, "and I found two hands stretched
out to meet mine. I said nothing, for those hands, soft as the peel of
an onion, enjoined me to silence. A whisper breathed into my ear, 'He
sleeps!' Then, as we were sure that nobody would see us, we went to
walk, Zena and I, upon the ramparts, but accompanied, if you please,
by a duenna, as hideous as an old portress, who didn't leave us any
more than our shadow; and I couldn't persuade Madame Pirate to send
her away. The next night we did the same thing, and again I wanted to
get rid of the old woman, but Zena resisted. As my sweet love spoke
only Greek, and I Venetian, we couldn't understand each other, and so
we quarrelled. I said to myself, in changing linen, 'As sure as fate,
the next time there'll be no old woman, and we can make it all up with
the language of love.' Instead of which, fate willed that that old
woman should save my life! You'll hear how. The weather was fine, and,
not to create suspicion, I took a turn at landscape,--this was after
our quarrel was made up, you understand. After walking along the
ramparts for some time, I was coming tranquilly home with my hands in
my pockets, when I saw the street crowded with people. Such a crowd!
like that for an execution. It fell upon me; I was seized, garroted,
gagged, and guarded by the police. Ah! you don't know--and I hope you
never may know--what it is to be taken for a murderer by a maddened
populace which stones you and howls after you from end to end of the
principal street of a town, shouting for your death! Ah! those eyes
were so many flames, all mouths were a single curse, while from the
volume of that burning hatred rose the fearful cry: 'To death! to
death! down with the murderer!'"
"So those Dalmatians spoke our language, did they?" said the count. "I
observe you relate the scene as if it happened yesterday."
Schinner was nonplussed.
"Riot has but one language," said the astute statesman Mistigris.
"Well," continued Schinner, "when I was brought into court in presence
of the magistrates, I learned that the cursed corsair was dead,
poisoned by Zena. I'd liked to have changed linen then. Give you my
word, I knew nothing of THAT melodrama. It seems the Greek girl put
opium (a great many poppies, as monsieur told us, grow about there) in
the pirate's grog, just to make him sleep soundly and leave her free
for a little walk with me, and the old duenna, unfortunate creature,
made a mistake and trebled the dose. The immense fortune of that
cursed pirate was really the cause of all my Zena's troubles. But she
explained matters so ingenuously that I, for one, was released with an
injunction from the mayor and the Austrian commissary of police to go
back to Rome. Zena, who let the heirs of the Uscoque and the judges
get most of the old villain's wealth, was let off with two years'
seclusion in a convent, where she still is. I am going back there some
day to paint her portrait; for in a few years, you know, all this will
be forgotten. Such are the follies one commits at eighteen!"
"And you left me without a sou in the locanda at Venice," said
Mistigris. "And I had to get from Venice to Rome by paintingportraits
for five francs apiece, which they didn't pay me. However, that was my
halcyon time. I don't regret it."
"You can imagine the reflections that came to me in that Dalmatian
prison, thrown there without protection, having to answer to Austrians
and Dalmatians, and in danger of losing my head because I went twice
to walk with a woman. There's ill-luck, with a vengeance!"
"Did all that really happen to you?" said Oscar, naively.
"Why shouldn't it happen to him, inasmuch as it had already happened
during the French occupation of Illyria to one of our most gallant
officers of artillery?" said the count, slyly.
"And you believed that artillery officer?" said Mistigris, as slyly to
the count.
"Is that all?" asked Oscar.
"Of course he can't tell you that they cut his head off,--how could
he?" said Mistigris. "'Dead schinners tell no tales.'"
"Monsieur, are there farms in that country?" asked Pere Leger. "What
do they cultivate?"
"Maraschino," replied Mistigris,--"a plant that grows to the height of
the lips, and produces a liqueur which goes by that name."
"Ah!" said Pere Leger.
"I only stayed three days in the town and fifteen in prison," said
Schinner, "so I saw nothing; not even the fields where they grow the
maraschino."
"They are fooling you," said Georges to the farmer. "Maraschino comes
in cases."
"'Romances alter cases,'" remarked Mistigris.
CHAPTER V
THE DRAMA BEGINS
Pierrotin's vehicle was now going down the steep incline of the valley
of Saint-Brice to the inn which stands in the middle of the large
village of that name, where Pierrotin was in the habit of stopping an
hour to breathe his horses, give them their oats, and water them. It
was now about half-past one o'clock.
"Ha! here's Pere Leger," cried the inn-keeper, when the coach pulled
up before the door. "Do you breakfast?"
"Always once a day," said the fat farmer; "and I'll break a crust here
and now."
"Give us a good breakfast," cried Georges, twirling his cane in a
cavalier manner which excited the admiration of poor Oscar.
But that admiration was turned to jealousy when he saw the gay
adventurer pull out from a side-pocket a small straw case, from which
he selected a light-colored cigar, which he proceeded to smoke on the
threshold of the inn door while waiting for breakfast.
"Do you smoke?" he asked of Oscar.
"Sometimes," replied the ex-schoolboy, swelling out his little chest
and assuming a jaunty air.
Georges presented the open case to Oscar and Schinner.
"Phew!" said the great painter; "ten-sous cigars!"
"The remains of those I brought back from Spain," said the adventurer.
who considered this moan, addressed to Pere Leger, a sort of letter of
credit drawn upon himself.
"True," said Pierrotin. "Xi! xi! Rougeot!"
"You must have seen many fine ceilings in Venice," resumed the count,
addressing Schinner.
"I was too much in love to take any notice of what seemed to me then
mere trifles," replied Schinner. "But I was soon cured of that folly,
for it was in the Venetian states--in Dalmatia--that I received a
cruel lesson."
"Can it be told?" asked Georges. "I know Dalmatia very well."
"Well, if you have been there, you know that all the people at that
end of the Adriatic are pirates, rovers, corsairs retired from
business, as they haven't been hanged--"
"Uscoques," said Georges.
Hearing the right name given, the count, who had been sent by Napoleon
on one occasion to the Illyrian provinces, turned his head and looked
at Georges, so surprised was he.
"The affair happened in that town where they make maraschino,"
continued Schinner, seeming to search for a name.
"Zara," said Georges. "I've been there; it is on the coast."
"You are right," said the painter. "I had gone there to look at the
country, for I adore scenery. I've longed a score of times to paint
landscape, which no one, as I think, understands but Mistigris, who
will some day reproduce Hobbema, Ruysdael, Claude Lorrain, Poussin,
and others."
"But," exclaimed the count, "if he reproduces one of them won't that
be enough?"
"If you persist in interrupting, monsieur," said Oscar, "we shall
never get on."
"And Monsieur Schinner was not addressing himself to you in
particular," added Georges.
"'Tisn't polite to interrupt," said Mistigris, sententiously, "but we
all do it, and conversation would lose a great deal if we didn't
scatter little condiments while exchanging our reflections. Therefore,
continue, agreeable old gentleman, to lecture us, if you like. It is
done in the best society, and you know the proverb: 'we must 'owl with
the wolves.'"
"I had heard marvellous things of Dalmatia," resumed Schinner, "so I
went there, leaving Mistigris in Venice at an inn--"
"'Locanda,'" interposed Mistigris; "keep to the local color."
"Zara is what is called a country town--"
"Yes," said Georges; "but it is fortified."
"Parbleu!" said Schinner; "the fortifications count for much in my
adventure. At Zara there are a great many apothecaries. I lodged with
one. In foreign countries everybody makes a principal business of
letting lodgings; all other trades are accessory. In the evening,
linen changed, I sat in my balcony. In the opposite balcony I saw a
woman; oh! such a woman! Greek,--THAT TELLS ALL! The most beautiful
creature in the town; almond eyes, lids that dropped like curtains,
lashes like a paint-brush, a face with an oval to drive Raffaelle mad,
a skin of the most delicious coloring, tints well-blended, velvety!
and hands, oh!--"
"They weren't made of butter like those of the David school," put in
Mistigris.
"You are always lugging in your painting," cried Georges.
"La, la!" retorted Mistigris; "'an ounce o' paint is worth a pound of
swagger.'"
"And such a costume! pure Greek!" continued Schinner. "Conflagration
of soul! you understand? Well, I questioned my Diafoirus; and he told
me that my neighbor was named Zena. Changed my linen. The husband, an
old villain, in order to marry Zena, paid three hundred thousand
francs to her father and mother, so celebrated was the beauty of that
beautiful creature, who was truly the most beautiful girl in all
Dalmatia, Illyria, Adriatica, and other places. In those parts they
buy their wives without seeing them--"
"I shall not go THERE," said Pere Leger.
"There are nights when my sleep is still illuminated by the eyes of
Zena," continued Schinner. "The husband was sixty-nine years of age,
and jealous! not as a tiger, for they say of a tiger, 'jealous as a
Dalmatian'; and my man was worse than A Dalmatian, one Dalmatian,--he
was three and a half Dalmatians at the very least; he was an Uscoque,
tricoque, archicoque in a bicoque of a paltry little place like
Zara--"
"Horrid fellow, and 'horrider bellow,'" put in Mistigris.
"Ha! good," said Georges, laughing.
"After being a corsair, and probably a pirate, he thought no more of
spitting a Christian on his dagger than I did of spitting on the
ground," continued Schinner. "So that was how the land lay. The old
wretch had millions, and was hideous with the loss of an ear some
pacha had cut off, and the want of an eye left I don't know where.
'Never,' said the little Diafoirus, 'never does he leave his wife,
never for a second.' 'Perhaps she'll want your services, and I could
go in your clothes; that's a trick that has great success in our
theatres,' I told him. Well, it would take too long to tell you all
the delicious moments of that lifetime--to wit, three days--which I
passed exchanging looks with Zena, and changing linen every day. It
was all the more violently titillating because the slightest motion
was significant and dangerous. At last it must have dawned upon Zena's
mind that none but a Frenchman and an artist was daring enough to make
eyes at her in the midst of the perils by which she was surrounded;
and as she hated her hideouspirate, she answered my glances with
delightful ogles fit to raise a man to the summit of Paradise without
pulleys. I attained to the height of Don Quixote; I rose to
exaltation! and I cried: 'The monster may kill me, but I'll go, I'll
go!' I gave up landscape and studied the ignobledwelling of the
Uscoque. That night, changed linen, and put on the most perfumed shirt
I had; then I crossed the street, and entered--"
"The house?" cried Oscar.
"The house?" echoed Georges.
"The house," said Schinner.
"Well, you're a bold dog," cried farmer Leger. "I should have kept out
of it myself."
"Especially as you could never have got through the doorway," replied
Schinner. "So in I went," he resumed, "and I found two hands stretched
out to meet mine. I said nothing, for those hands, soft as the peel of
an onion, enjoined me to silence. A whisper breathed into my ear, 'He
sleeps!' Then, as we were sure that nobody would see us, we went to
walk, Zena and I, upon the ramparts, but accompanied, if you please,
by a duenna, as hideous as an old portress, who didn't leave us any
more than our shadow; and I couldn't persuade Madame Pirate to send
her away. The next night we did the same thing, and again I wanted to
get rid of the old woman, but Zena resisted. As my sweet love spoke
only Greek, and I Venetian, we couldn't understand each other, and so
we quarrelled. I said to myself, in changing linen, 'As sure as fate,
the next time there'll be no old woman, and we can make it all up with
the language of love.' Instead of which, fate willed that that old
woman should save my life! You'll hear how. The weather was fine, and,
not to create suspicion, I took a turn at landscape,--this was after
our quarrel was made up, you understand. After walking along the
ramparts for some time, I was coming tranquilly home with my hands in
my pockets, when I saw the street crowded with people. Such a crowd!
like that for an execution. It fell upon me; I was seized, garroted,
gagged, and guarded by the police. Ah! you don't know--and I hope you
never may know--what it is to be taken for a murderer by a maddened
populace which stones you and howls after you from end to end of the
principal street of a town, shouting for your death! Ah! those eyes
were so many flames, all mouths were a single curse, while from the
volume of that burning hatred rose the fearful cry: 'To death! to
death! down with the murderer!'"
"So those Dalmatians spoke our language, did they?" said the count. "I
observe you relate the scene as if it happened yesterday."
Schinner was nonplussed.
"Riot has but one language," said the astute statesman Mistigris.
"Well," continued Schinner, "when I was brought into court in presence
of the magistrates, I learned that the cursed corsair was dead,
poisoned by Zena. I'd liked to have changed linen then. Give you my
word, I knew nothing of THAT melodrama. It seems the Greek girl put
opium (a great many poppies, as monsieur told us, grow about there) in
the pirate's grog, just to make him sleep soundly and leave her free
for a little walk with me, and the old duenna, unfortunate creature,
made a mistake and trebled the dose. The immense fortune of that
cursed pirate was really the cause of all my Zena's troubles. But she
explained matters so ingenuously that I, for one, was released with an
injunction from the mayor and the Austrian commissary of police to go
back to Rome. Zena, who let the heirs of the Uscoque and the judges
get most of the old villain's wealth, was let off with two years'
seclusion in a convent, where she still is. I am going back there some
day to paint her portrait; for in a few years, you know, all this will
be forgotten. Such are the follies one commits at eighteen!"
"And you left me without a sou in the locanda at Venice," said
Mistigris. "And I had to get from Venice to Rome by paintingportraits
for five francs apiece, which they didn't pay me. However, that was my
halcyon time. I don't regret it."
"You can imagine the reflections that came to me in that Dalmatian
prison, thrown there without protection, having to answer to Austrians
and Dalmatians, and in danger of losing my head because I went twice
to walk with a woman. There's ill-luck, with a vengeance!"
"Did all that really happen to you?" said Oscar, naively.
"Why shouldn't it happen to him, inasmuch as it had already happened
during the French occupation of Illyria to one of our most gallant
officers of artillery?" said the count, slyly.
"And you believed that artillery officer?" said Mistigris, as slyly to
the count.
"Is that all?" asked Oscar.
"Of course he can't tell you that they cut his head off,--how could
he?" said Mistigris. "'Dead schinners tell no tales.'"
"Monsieur, are there farms in that country?" asked Pere Leger. "What
do they cultivate?"
"Maraschino," replied Mistigris,--"a plant that grows to the height of
the lips, and produces a liqueur which goes by that name."
"Ah!" said Pere Leger.
"I only stayed three days in the town and fifteen in prison," said
Schinner, "so I saw nothing; not even the fields where they grow the
maraschino."
"They are fooling you," said Georges to the farmer. "Maraschino comes
in cases."
"'Romances alter cases,'" remarked Mistigris.
CHAPTER V
THE DRAMA BEGINS
Pierrotin's vehicle was now going down the steep incline of the valley
of Saint-Brice to the inn which stands in the middle of the large
village of that name, where Pierrotin was in the habit of stopping an
hour to breathe his horses, give them their oats, and water them. It
was now about half-past one o'clock.
"Ha! here's Pere Leger," cried the inn-keeper, when the coach pulled
up before the door. "Do you breakfast?"
"Always once a day," said the fat farmer; "and I'll break a crust here
and now."
"Give us a good breakfast," cried Georges, twirling his cane in a
cavalier manner which excited the admiration of poor Oscar.
But that admiration was turned to jealousy when he saw the gay
adventurer pull out from a side-pocket a small straw case, from which
he selected a light-colored cigar, which he proceeded to smoke on the
threshold of the inn door while waiting for breakfast.
"Do you smoke?" he asked of Oscar.
"Sometimes," replied the ex-schoolboy, swelling out his little chest
and assuming a jaunty air.
Georges presented the open case to Oscar and Schinner.
"Phew!" said the great painter; "ten-sous cigars!"
"The remains of those I brought back from Spain," said the adventurer.
- painter [´peintə]
n.画家；(油)漆工 (初中英语单词) - monsieur [mə´sjə:] n.先生 (初中英语单词)
- polite [pə´lait] a.有礼貌的；温和的 (初中英语单词)
- agreeable [ə´gri:əbəl] a.适合的；符合的 (初中英语单词)
- principal [´prinsəpəl] a.主要的 n.负责人 (初中英语单词)
- delicious [di´liʃəs] a.美味的，可口的 (初中英语单词)
- celebrated [´selibreitid] a.著名的 (初中英语单词)
- frenchman [´frentʃmən] n.法国人 (初中英语单词)
- paradise [´pærədais] n.天堂；乐园 (初中英语单词)
- height [hait] n.高度；顶点；卓越 (初中英语单词)
- monster [´mɔnstə] n.怪物 a.大得异常的 (初中英语单词)
- dwelling [´dweliŋ] n.住所；寓所 (初中英语单词)
- whisper [´wispə] v.耳语 n.低语；沙沙声 (初中英语单词)
- persuade [pə´sweid] v.(被)说服；使相信 (初中英语单词)
- suspicion [sə´spiʃən] n.怀(猜)疑；嫌疑 (初中英语单词)
- hatred [´heitrid] n.憎恨，敌意 (初中英语单词)
- fearful [´fiəfəl] a.可怕的；担心的 (初中英语单词)
- relate [ri´leit] v.阐明；使联系；涉及 (初中英语单词)
- statesman [´steitsmən] n.政治家，国务活动家 (初中英语单词)
- unfortunate [ʌn´fɔ:tʃunit] a.不幸的，运气差的 (初中英语单词)
- immense [i´mens] a.广大的，无限的 (初中英语单词)
- wealth [welθ] n.财富，财产 (初中英语单词)
- painting [´peintiŋ] n.绘画；(油)画；着色 (初中英语单词)
- protection [prə´tekʃən] n.警戒；护照；通行证 (初中英语单词)
- occupation [,ɔkju´peiʃən] a.职业的；军事占领的 (初中英语单词)
- incline [in´klain] v.(使)倾斜 n.斜坡 (初中英语单词)
- admiration [,ædmə´reiʃən] n.赞赏，钦佩 (初中英语单词)
- waiting [´weitiŋ] n.等候；伺候 (初中英语单词)
- scenery [´si:nəri] n.舞台布景 (高中英语单词)
- reproduce [,ri:prə´dju:s] v.繁殖；复制；翻版 (高中英语单词)
- persist [pə´sist] vi.坚持；固执；持续 (高中英语单词)
- venice [´venis] n.威尼斯 (高中英语单词)
- seeing [si:iŋ] see的现在分词 n.视觉 (高中英语单词)
- pirate [´paiərət] n.海盗 v.做海盗；掠夺 (高中英语单词)
- hideous [´hidiəs] a.丑陋的，可怕的 (高中英语单词)
- violently [´vaiələntli] ad.强暴地；猛烈地 (高中英语单词)
- significant [sig´nifikənt] a.重要的；意义重大的 (高中英语单词)
- summit [´sʌmit] n.顶(点)；绝顶 (高中英语单词)
- landscape [´lændskeip] n.风景；景色；风景画 (高中英语单词)
- studied [´stʌdid] a.故意的；有计划的 (高中英语单词)
- crowded [´kraudid] a.充(拥)满了的 (高中英语单词)
- execution [,eksi´kju:ʃən] n.执行；演奏；表演 (高中英语单词)
- murderer [´mə:dərə] n.杀人犯，凶手 (高中英语单词)
- learned [´lə:nid] a.有学问的，博学的 (高中英语单词)
- convent [´kɔnvənt] n.女修道院；女修道会 (高中英语单词)
- portrait [´pɔ:trit] n.肖像；相片；雕像 (高中英语单词)
- artillery [ɑ:´tiləri] n.炮兵部队 (高中英语单词)
- jealousy [´dʒeləsi] n.妒忌；猜忌 (高中英语单词)
- venetian [vi´ni:ʃ(ə)n] a.威尼斯城的 (英语四级单词)
- seeming [´si:miŋ] a.表面上的 n.外观 (英语四级单词)
- proverb [´prɔvə:b] n.谚语；格言 (英语四级单词)
- accessory [ək´sesəri] n.附件；帮凶 a.附属的 (英语四级单词)
- balcony [´bælkəni] n.阳台；(戏院的)楼厅 (英语四级单词)
- almond [´ɑ:mənd] n.杏核，杏仁；扁桃 (英语四级单词)
- villain [´vilən] n.坏人；恶棍；反面角色 (英语四级单词)
- dagger [´dægə] n.短剑，匕首 (英语四级单词)
- daring [´deəriŋ] a.&n.勇敢(的) (英语四级单词)
- apiece [ə´pi:s] ad.每个，每件，每人 (英语四级单词)
- inasmuch [,inəz´mʌtʃ] conj.因为；鉴于 (英语四级单词)
- vehicle [´vi:ikəl] n.车辆；媒介物 (英语四级单词)
- adventurer [əd´ventʃərə] n.冒险者 (英语四级单词)
- retired [ri´taiəd] a.退休的；通职的 (英语六级单词)
- ignoble [ig´nəubəl] a.卑鄙的，无耻的 (英语六级单词)
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