章节正文
introduced you to every one as Ernest. You answer to the name of
Ernest. You look as if your name was Ernest. You are the most
earnest-looking person I ever saw in my life. It is perfectly
absurd your saying that your name isn't Ernest. It's on your
cards. Here is one of them. [Taking it from case.] 'Mr. Ernest
Worthing, B. 4, The Albany.' I'll keep this as a proof that your
name is Ernest if ever you attempt to deny it to me, or to
Gwendolen, or to any one else. [Puts the card in his pocket.]
JACK. Well, my name is Ernest in town and Jack in the country, and
the cigarette case was given to me in the country.
ALGERNON. Yes, but that does not account for the fact that your
small Aunt Cecily, who lives at Tunbridge Wells, calls you her dear
uncle. Come, old boy, you had much better have the thing out at
once.
JACK. My dear Algy, you talk exactly as if you were a dentist. It
is very vulgar to talk like a dentist when one isn't a dentist. It
produces a false impression,
ALGERNON. Well, that is exactly what dentists always do. Now, go
on! Tell me the whole thing. I may mention that I have always
suspected you of being a confirmed and secret Bunburyist; and I am
quite sure of it now.
JACK. Bunburyist? What on earth do you mean by a Bunburyist?
ALGERNON. I'll reveal to you the meaning of that incomparable
expression as soon as you are kind enough to inform me why you are
Ernest in town and Jack in the country.
JACK. Well, produce my cigarette case first.
ALGERNON. Here it is. [Hands cigarette case.] Now produce your
explanation, and pray make it improbable. [Sits on sofa.]
JACK. My dear fellow, there is nothing improbable about my
explanation at all. In fact it's perfectly ordinary. Old Mr.
Thomas Cardew, who adopted me when I was a little boy, made me in
his will guardian to his grand-daughter, Miss Cecily Cardew.
Cecily, who addresses me as her uncle from motives of respect that
you could not possibly appreciate, lives at my place in the country
under the charge of her admirablegoverness, Miss Prism.
ALGERNON. Where in that place in the country, by the way?
JACK. That is nothing to you, dear boy. You are not going to be
invited . . . I may tell you candidly that the place is not in
Shropshire.
ALGERNON. I suspected that, my dear fellow! I have Bunburyed all
over Shropshire on two separate occasions. Now, go on. Why are
you Ernest in town and Jack in the country?
JACK. My dear Algy, I don't know whether you will be able to
understand my real motives. You are hardly serious enough. When
one is placed in the position of guardian, one has to adopt a very
high moral tone on all subjects. It's one's duty to do so. And as
a high moral tone can hardly be said to conduce very much to either
one's health or one's happiness, in order to get up to town I have
always pretended to have a younger brother of the name of Ernest,
who lives in the Albany, and gets into the most dreadful scrapes.
That, my dear Algy, is the whole truth pure and simple.
ALGERNON. The truth is rarely pure and never simple. Modern life
would be very tedious if it were either, and modern literature a
complete impossibility!
JACK. That wouldn't be at all a bad thing.
ALGERNON. Literary criticism is not your forte, my dear fellow.
Don't try it. You should leave that to people who haven't been at
a University. They do it so well in the daily papers. What you
really are is a Bunburyist. I was quite right in saying you were a
Bunburyist. You are one of the most advanced Bunburyists I know.
JACK. What on earth do you mean?
ALGERNON. You have invented a very useful younger brother called
Ernest, in order that you may be able to come up to town as often
as you like. I have invented an invaluablepermanentinvalid
called Bunbury, in order that I may be able to go down into the
country whenever I choose. Bunbury is perfectlyinvaluable. If it
wasn't for Bunbury's extraordinary bad health, for instance, I
wouldn't be able to dine with you at Willis's to-night, for I have
been really engaged to Aunt Augusta for more than a week.
JACK. I haven't asked you to dine with me anywhere to-night.
ALGERNON. I know. You are absurdly careless about sending out
invitations. It is very foolish of you. Nothing annoys people so
much as not receiving invitations.
JACK. You had much better dine with your Aunt Augusta.
ALGERNON. I haven't the smallest intention of doing anything of
the kind. To begin with, I dined there on Monday, and once a week
is quite enough to dine with one's own relations. In the second
place, whenever I do dine there I am always treated as a member of
the family, and sent down with either no woman at all, or two. In
the third place, I know perfectly well whom she will place me next
to, to-night. She will place me next Mary Farquhar, who always
flirts with her own husband across the dinner-table. That is not
very pleasant. Indeed, it is not even decent . . . and that sort
of thing is enormously on the increase. The amount of women in
London who flirt with their own husbands is perfectly scandalous.
It looks so bad. It in simply washing one's clean linen in public.
Besides, now that I know you to be a confirmed Bunburyist I
naturally want to talk to you about Bunburying. I want to tell you
the rules.
JACK. I'm not a Bunburyist at all. If Gwendolen accepts me, I am
going to kill my brother, indeed I think I'll kill him in any case.
Cecily is a little too much interested in him. It is rather a
bore. So I am going to get rid of Ernest. And I strongly advise
you to do the same with Mr . . . with your invalid friend who has
the absurd name.
ALGERNON. Nothing will induce me to part with Bunbury, and if you
ever get married, which seems to me extremely problematic, you will
be very glad to know Bunbury. A man who marries without knowing
Bunbury has a very tedious time of it.
JACK. That is nonsense. If I marry a charming girl like
Gwendolen, and she is the only girl I ever saw in my life that I
would marry, I certainly won't want to know Bunbury.
ALGERNON. Then your wife will. You don't seem to realise, that in
married life three is company and two is none.
JACK. [Sententiously.] That, my dear young friend, is the theory
that the corrupt French Drama has been propounding for the last
fifty years.
ALGERNON. Yes; and that the happy English home has proved in half
the time.
JACK. For heaven's sake, don't try to be cynical. It's perfectly
easy to be cynical.
ALGERNON. My dear fellow, it isn't easy to be anything nowadays.
There's such a lot of beastlycompetition about. [The sound of an
electric bell is heard.] Ah! that must be Aunt Augusta. Only
relatives, or creditors, ever ring in that Wagnerian manner. Now,
if I get her out of the way for ten minutes, so that you can have
an opportunity for proposing to Gwendolen, may I dine with you to-
night at Willis's?
JACK. I suppose so, if you want to.
ALGERNON. Yes, but you must be serious about it. I hate people
who are not serious about meals. It is so shallow of them.
[Enter LANE.]
Lady Bracknell and Miss Fairfax.
[ALGERNON goes forward to meet them. Enter LADY BRACKNELL and
GWENDOLEN.]
LADY BRACKNELL. Good afternoon, dear Algernon, I hope you are
behaving very well.
ALGERNON. I'm feeling very well, Aunt Augusta.
LADY BRACKNELL. That's not quite the same thing. In fact the two
things rarely go together. [Sees JACK and bows to him with icy
coldness.]
ALGERNON. [To GWENDOLEN.] Dear me, you are smart!
GWENDOLEN. I am always smart! Am I not, Mr. Worthing?
JACK. You're quite perfect, Miss Fairfax.
GWENDOLEN. Oh! I hope I am not that. It would leave no room for
developments, and I intend to develop in many directions.
[GWENDOLEN and JACK sit down together in the corner.]
LADY BRACKNELL. I'm sorry if we are a little late, Algernon, but I
was obliged to call on dear Lady Harbury. I hadn't been there
since her poor husband's death. I never saw a woman so altered;
she looks quite twenty years younger. And now I'll have a cup of
tea, and one of those nice cucumber sandwiches you promised me.
ALGERNON. Certainly, Aunt Augusta. [Goes over to tea-table.]
LADY BRACKNELL. Won't you come and sit here, Gwendolen?
GWENDOLEN. Thanks, mamma, I'm quite comfortable where I am.
ALGERNON. [Picking up empty plate in horror.] Good heavens!
Lane! Why are there no cucumber sandwiches? I ordered them
specially.
LANE. [Gravely.] There were no cucumbers in the market this
morning, sir. I went down twice.
ALGERNON. No cucumbers!
LANE. No, sir. Not even for ready money.
ALGERNON. That will do, Lane, thank you.
LANE. Thank you, sir. [Goes out.]
ALGERNON. I am greatly distressed, Aunt Augusta, about there being
no cucumbers, not even for ready money.
LADY BRACKNELL. It really makes no matter, Algernon. I had some
crumpets with Lady Harbury, who seems to me to be living entirely
for pleasure now.
ALGERNON. I hear her hair has turned quite gold from grief.
LADY BRACKNELL. It certainly has changed its colour. From what
cause I, of course, cannot say. [ALGERNON crosses and hands tea.]
Thank you. I've quite a treat for you to-night, Algernon. I am
going to send you down with Mary Farquhar. She is such a nice
woman, and so attentive to her husband. It's delightful to watch
them.
ALGERNON. I am afraid, Aunt Augusta, I shall have to give up the
pleasure of dining with you to-night after all.
LADY BRACKNELL. [Frowning.] I hope not, Algernon. It would put
my table completely out. Your uncle would have to dine upstairs.
Fortunately he is accustomed to that.
ALGERNON. It is a great bore, and, I need hardly say, a terrible
disappointment to me, but the fact is I have just had a telegram to
say that my poor friend Bunbury is very ill again. [Exchanges
glances with JACK.] They seem to think I should be with him.
LADY BRACKNELL. It is very strange. This Mr. Bunbury seems to
suffer from curiously bad health.
ALGERNON. Yes; poor Bunbury is a dreadfulinvalid.
LADY BRACKNELL. Well, I must say, Algernon, that I think it is
high time that Mr. Bunbury made up his mind whether he was going to
live or to die. This shilly-shallying with the question is absurd.
Nor do I in any way approve of the modern sympathy with invalids.
I consider it morbid. Illness of any kind is hardly a thing to be
encouraged in others. Health is the primary duty of life. I am
always telling that to your poor uncle, but he never seems to take
much notice . . . as far as any improvement in his ailment goes. I
should be much obliged if you would ask Mr. Bunbury, from me, to be
kind enough not to have a relapse on Saturday, for I rely on you to
arrange my music for me. It is my last reception, and one wants
something that will encourage conversation, particularly at the end
of the season when every one has practically said whatever they had
to say, which, in most cases, was probably not much.
ALGERNON. I'll speak to Bunbury, Aunt Augusta, if he is still
conscious, and I think I can promise you he'll be all right by
Saturday. Of course the music is a great difficulty. You see, if
one plays good music, people don't listen, and if one plays bad
music people don't talk. But I'll ran over the programme I've
drawn out, if you will kindly come into the next room for a moment.
LADY BRACKNELL. Thank you, Algernon. It is very thoughtful of
you. [Rising, and following ALGERNON.] I'm sure the programme
will be delightful, after a few expurgations. French songs I
Ernest. You look as if your name was Ernest. You are the most
earnest-looking person I ever saw in my life. It is perfectly
absurd your saying that your name isn't Ernest. It's on your
cards. Here is one of them. [Taking it from case.] 'Mr. Ernest
Worthing, B. 4, The Albany.' I'll keep this as a proof that your
name is Ernest if ever you attempt to deny it to me, or to
Gwendolen, or to any one else. [Puts the card in his pocket.]
JACK. Well, my name is Ernest in town and Jack in the country, and
the cigarette case was given to me in the country.
ALGERNON. Yes, but that does not account for the fact that your
small Aunt Cecily, who lives at Tunbridge Wells, calls you her dear
uncle. Come, old boy, you had much better have the thing out at
once.
JACK. My dear Algy, you talk exactly as if you were a dentist. It
is very vulgar to talk like a dentist when one isn't a dentist. It
produces a false impression,
ALGERNON. Well, that is exactly what dentists always do. Now, go
on! Tell me the whole thing. I may mention that I have always
suspected you of being a confirmed and secret Bunburyist; and I am
quite sure of it now.
JACK. Bunburyist? What on earth do you mean by a Bunburyist?
ALGERNON. I'll reveal to you the meaning of that incomparable
expression as soon as you are kind enough to inform me why you are
Ernest in town and Jack in the country.
JACK. Well, produce my cigarette case first.
ALGERNON. Here it is. [Hands cigarette case.] Now produce your
explanation, and pray make it improbable. [Sits on sofa.]
JACK. My dear fellow, there is nothing improbable about my
explanation at all. In fact it's perfectly ordinary. Old Mr.
Thomas Cardew, who adopted me when I was a little boy, made me in
his will guardian to his grand-daughter, Miss Cecily Cardew.
Cecily, who addresses me as her uncle from motives of respect that
you could not possibly appreciate, lives at my place in the country
under the charge of her admirablegoverness, Miss Prism.
ALGERNON. Where in that place in the country, by the way?
JACK. That is nothing to you, dear boy. You are not going to be
invited . . . I may tell you candidly that the place is not in
Shropshire.
ALGERNON. I suspected that, my dear fellow! I have Bunburyed all
over Shropshire on two separate occasions. Now, go on. Why are
you Ernest in town and Jack in the country?
JACK. My dear Algy, I don't know whether you will be able to
understand my real motives. You are hardly serious enough. When
one is placed in the position of guardian, one has to adopt a very
high moral tone on all subjects. It's one's duty to do so. And as
a high moral tone can hardly be said to conduce very much to either
one's health or one's happiness, in order to get up to town I have
always pretended to have a younger brother of the name of Ernest,
who lives in the Albany, and gets into the most dreadful scrapes.
That, my dear Algy, is the whole truth pure and simple.
ALGERNON. The truth is rarely pure and never simple. Modern life
would be very tedious if it were either, and modern literature a
complete impossibility!
JACK. That wouldn't be at all a bad thing.
ALGERNON. Literary criticism is not your forte, my dear fellow.
Don't try it. You should leave that to people who haven't been at
a University. They do it so well in the daily papers. What you
really are is a Bunburyist. I was quite right in saying you were a
Bunburyist. You are one of the most advanced Bunburyists I know.
JACK. What on earth do you mean?
ALGERNON. You have invented a very useful younger brother called
Ernest, in order that you may be able to come up to town as often
as you like. I have invented an invaluablepermanentinvalid
called Bunbury, in order that I may be able to go down into the
country whenever I choose. Bunbury is perfectlyinvaluable. If it
wasn't for Bunbury's extraordinary bad health, for instance, I
wouldn't be able to dine with you at Willis's to-night, for I have
been really engaged to Aunt Augusta for more than a week.
JACK. I haven't asked you to dine with me anywhere to-night.
ALGERNON. I know. You are absurdly careless about sending out
invitations. It is very foolish of you. Nothing annoys people so
much as not receiving invitations.
JACK. You had much better dine with your Aunt Augusta.
ALGERNON. I haven't the smallest intention of doing anything of
the kind. To begin with, I dined there on Monday, and once a week
is quite enough to dine with one's own relations. In the second
place, whenever I do dine there I am always treated as a member of
the family, and sent down with either no woman at all, or two. In
the third place, I know perfectly well whom she will place me next
to, to-night. She will place me next Mary Farquhar, who always
flirts with her own husband across the dinner-table. That is not
very pleasant. Indeed, it is not even decent . . . and that sort
of thing is enormously on the increase. The amount of women in
London who flirt with their own husbands is perfectly scandalous.
It looks so bad. It in simply washing one's clean linen in public.
Besides, now that I know you to be a confirmed Bunburyist I
naturally want to talk to you about Bunburying. I want to tell you
the rules.
JACK. I'm not a Bunburyist at all. If Gwendolen accepts me, I am
going to kill my brother, indeed I think I'll kill him in any case.
Cecily is a little too much interested in him. It is rather a
bore. So I am going to get rid of Ernest. And I strongly advise
you to do the same with Mr . . . with your invalid friend who has
the absurd name.
ALGERNON. Nothing will induce me to part with Bunbury, and if you
ever get married, which seems to me extremely problematic, you will
be very glad to know Bunbury. A man who marries without knowing
Bunbury has a very tedious time of it.
JACK. That is nonsense. If I marry a charming girl like
Gwendolen, and she is the only girl I ever saw in my life that I
would marry, I certainly won't want to know Bunbury.
ALGERNON. Then your wife will. You don't seem to realise, that in
married life three is company and two is none.
JACK. [Sententiously.] That, my dear young friend, is the theory
that the corrupt French Drama has been propounding for the last
fifty years.
ALGERNON. Yes; and that the happy English home has proved in half
the time.
JACK. For heaven's sake, don't try to be cynical. It's perfectly
easy to be cynical.
ALGERNON. My dear fellow, it isn't easy to be anything nowadays.
There's such a lot of beastlycompetition about. [The sound of an
electric bell is heard.] Ah! that must be Aunt Augusta. Only
relatives, or creditors, ever ring in that Wagnerian manner. Now,
if I get her out of the way for ten minutes, so that you can have
an opportunity for proposing to Gwendolen, may I dine with you to-
night at Willis's?
JACK. I suppose so, if you want to.
ALGERNON. Yes, but you must be serious about it. I hate people
who are not serious about meals. It is so shallow of them.
[Enter LANE.]
Lady Bracknell and Miss Fairfax.
[ALGERNON goes forward to meet them. Enter LADY BRACKNELL and
GWENDOLEN.]
LADY BRACKNELL. Good afternoon, dear Algernon, I hope you are
behaving very well.
ALGERNON. I'm feeling very well, Aunt Augusta.
LADY BRACKNELL. That's not quite the same thing. In fact the two
things rarely go together. [Sees JACK and bows to him with icy
coldness.]
ALGERNON. [To GWENDOLEN.] Dear me, you are smart!
GWENDOLEN. I am always smart! Am I not, Mr. Worthing?
JACK. You're quite perfect, Miss Fairfax.
GWENDOLEN. Oh! I hope I am not that. It would leave no room for
developments, and I intend to develop in many directions.
[GWENDOLEN and JACK sit down together in the corner.]
LADY BRACKNELL. I'm sorry if we are a little late, Algernon, but I
was obliged to call on dear Lady Harbury. I hadn't been there
since her poor husband's death. I never saw a woman so altered;
she looks quite twenty years younger. And now I'll have a cup of
tea, and one of those nice cucumber sandwiches you promised me.
ALGERNON. Certainly, Aunt Augusta. [Goes over to tea-table.]
LADY BRACKNELL. Won't you come and sit here, Gwendolen?
GWENDOLEN. Thanks, mamma, I'm quite comfortable where I am.
ALGERNON. [Picking up empty plate in horror.] Good heavens!
Lane! Why are there no cucumber sandwiches? I ordered them
specially.
LANE. [Gravely.] There were no cucumbers in the market this
morning, sir. I went down twice.
ALGERNON. No cucumbers!
LANE. No, sir. Not even for ready money.
ALGERNON. That will do, Lane, thank you.
LANE. Thank you, sir. [Goes out.]
ALGERNON. I am greatly distressed, Aunt Augusta, about there being
no cucumbers, not even for ready money.
LADY BRACKNELL. It really makes no matter, Algernon. I had some
crumpets with Lady Harbury, who seems to me to be living entirely
for pleasure now.
ALGERNON. I hear her hair has turned quite gold from grief.
LADY BRACKNELL. It certainly has changed its colour. From what
cause I, of course, cannot say. [ALGERNON crosses and hands tea.]
Thank you. I've quite a treat for you to-night, Algernon. I am
going to send you down with Mary Farquhar. She is such a nice
woman, and so attentive to her husband. It's delightful to watch
them.
ALGERNON. I am afraid, Aunt Augusta, I shall have to give up the
pleasure of dining with you to-night after all.
LADY BRACKNELL. [Frowning.] I hope not, Algernon. It would put
my table completely out. Your uncle would have to dine upstairs.
Fortunately he is accustomed to that.
ALGERNON. It is a great bore, and, I need hardly say, a terrible
disappointment to me, but the fact is I have just had a telegram to
say that my poor friend Bunbury is very ill again. [Exchanges
glances with JACK.] They seem to think I should be with him.
LADY BRACKNELL. It is very strange. This Mr. Bunbury seems to
suffer from curiously bad health.
ALGERNON. Yes; poor Bunbury is a dreadfulinvalid.
LADY BRACKNELL. Well, I must say, Algernon, that I think it is
high time that Mr. Bunbury made up his mind whether he was going to
live or to die. This shilly-shallying with the question is absurd.
Nor do I in any way approve of the modern sympathy with invalids.
I consider it morbid. Illness of any kind is hardly a thing to be
encouraged in others. Health is the primary duty of life. I am
always telling that to your poor uncle, but he never seems to take
much notice . . . as far as any improvement in his ailment goes. I
should be much obliged if you would ask Mr. Bunbury, from me, to be
kind enough not to have a relapse on Saturday, for I rely on you to
arrange my music for me. It is my last reception, and one wants
something that will encourage conversation, particularly at the end
of the season when every one has practically said whatever they had
to say, which, in most cases, was probably not much.
ALGERNON. I'll speak to Bunbury, Aunt Augusta, if he is still
conscious, and I think I can promise you he'll be all right by
Saturday. Of course the music is a great difficulty. You see, if
one plays good music, people don't listen, and if one plays bad
music people don't talk. But I'll ran over the programme I've
drawn out, if you will kindly come into the next room for a moment.
LADY BRACKNELL. Thank you, Algernon. It is very thoughtful of
you. [Rising, and following ALGERNON.] I'm sure the programme
will be delightful, after a few expurgations. French songs I
- account [ə´kaunt]
vi.说明 vt.认为 n.帐目 (初中英语单词) - appreciate [ə´pri:ʃieit] v.评价；珍惜；感激 (初中英语单词)
- charge [tʃɑ:dʒ] v.收费；冲锋 n.费用 (初中英语单词)
- dreadful [´dredful] a.可怕的；讨厌的 (初中英语单词)
- rarely [´reəli] ad.难得；非凡地 (初中英语单词)
- literature [´litərətʃə] n.文学；文献；著作 (初中英语单词)
- literary [´litərəri] a.文学(上)的 (初中英语单词)
- criticism [´kritisizəm] n.批评；评论(文) (初中英语单词)
- advanced [əd´vɑ:nst] a.先进的；高级的 (初中英语单词)
- permanent [´pə:mənənt] a.永久的；不变的 (初中英语单词)
- whenever [wen´evə] conj.&ad.无论何时 (初中英语单词)
- extraordinary [ik´strɔ:dinəri] a.非常的；额外的 (初中英语单词)
- instance [´instəns] n.例子，实例，例证 (初中英语单词)
- anywhere [´eniweə] ad.无论何处；任何地方 (初中英语单词)
- careless [´keəlis] a.粗心的；草率的 (初中英语单词)
- intention [in´tenʃən] n.意图；打算；意义 (初中英语单词)
- amount [ə´maunt] n.总数；数量 v.合计 (初中英语单词)
- strongly [´strɔŋli] ad.强烈地；强有力地 (初中英语单词)
- absurd [əb´sə:d] a.荒谬的，可笑的 (初中英语单词)
- extremely [ik´stri:mli] ad.极端地；非常地 (初中英语单词)
- charming [´tʃɑ:miŋ] a.可爱的；极好的 (初中英语单词)
- competition [,kɔmpi´tiʃən] n.比赛；竞争 (初中英语单词)
- shallow [´ʃæləu] a.肤浅的；表面的 (初中英语单词)
- attentive [ə´tentiv] a.注意的；殷勤的 (初中英语单词)
- delightful [di´laitful] a.讨人喜欢的 (初中英语单词)
- telegram [´teligræm] n.电报 (初中英语单词)
- curiously [´kjuəriəsli] ad.好奇地；稀奇古怪地 (初中英语单词)
- approve [ə´pru:v] v.赞成；同意；批准 (初中英语单词)
- sympathy [´simpəθi] n.同情，怜悯 (初中英语单词)
- illness [´ilnis] n.生病，不健康，疾病 (初中英语单词)
- primary [´praiməri] a.主要的 n.居首位的 (初中英语单词)
- improvement [im´pru:vmənt] n.改进，改善，进步 (初中英语单词)
- encourage [in´kʌridʒ] vt.鼓励；怂勇；促进 (初中英语单词)
- whatever [wɔt´evə] pron.&a.无论什么 (初中英语单词)
- saying [´seiŋ, ´sei-iŋ] n.言语；言论；格言 (高中英语单词)
- perfectly [´pə:fiktli] ad.理想地；完美地 (高中英语单词)
- guardian [´gɑ:diən] n.监护人；保护人 (高中英语单词)
- admirable [´ædmərəbəl] a.极佳的，值得赞美的 (高中英语单词)
- albany [´ɔ:lbəni] n.奥尔巴尼 (高中英语单词)
- decent [´di:sənt] a.体面的，正派的 (高中英语单词)
- nonsense [´nɔnsəns] n.胡说 int.胡说!废话 (高中英语单词)
- corrupt [kə´rʌpt] a.腐败的 v.败坏；贿赂 (高中英语单词)
- reception [ri´sepʃən] n.接待；欢迎；招待会 (高中英语单词)
- thoughtful [´θɔ:tfəl] a.深思的；体贴的 (高中英语单词)
- dentist [´dentist] n.牙科医生 (英语四级单词)
- vulgar [´vʌlgə] a.粗俗的；大众的 (英语四级单词)
- tedious [´ti:diəs] a.冗长的；乏味的 (英语四级单词)
- enormously [i´nɔ:məsli] ad.巨大的，庞大的 (英语四级单词)
- invalid [in´vælid] n.病人 a.无效的 (英语四级单词)
- cucumber [´kju:kʌmbə] n.黄瓜 (英语四级单词)
- ailment [´eilmənt] n.疾病；精神不安 (英语四级单词)
- improbable [im´prɔbəbəl] a.未必有的 (英语六级单词)
- governess [´gʌvənis] n.女家庭教师 (英语六级单词)
- invaluable [in´væljuəbəl] a.无价的，非常重要的 (英语六级单词)
- cynical [´sinikəl] a.讥诮的；冷嘲的 (英语六级单词)
- beastly [´bi:stli] a.残忍的；卑鄙的 (英语六级单词)
文章标签:名著
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