章节正文
"Nay, truly," said Little John, "thou seest in me what the holy Saint Dunstan
can do for them that serve him upon a handful of parched peas and a trickle
of cold water."
At this a great shout of laughter went up. "Truly, it is a
wondrous thing," quoth the Beggar, "I would have made my vow, to see
the masterly manner in which thou didst tuck away yon pot of ale,
that thou hadst not tasted clear water for a brace of months.
Has not this same holy Saint Dunstan taught thee a goodly
song or two?"
"Why, as for that," quoth Little John, grinning, "mayhap he hath lent
me aid to learn a ditty or so."
"Then, prythee, let us hear how he hath taught thee,"
quoth the Tinker.
At this Little John cleared his throat and, after a word or two
about a certain hoarseness that troubled him, sang thus:
"_Ah, pretty, pretty maid, whither dost thou go?
I prythee, prythee, wait for thy lover also,
And we'll gather the rose
As it sweetly blows,
For the merry, merry winds are blo-o-o-wing_."
Now it seemed as though Little John's songs were never to get sung,
for he had got no farther than this when the door of the inn opened
and out came the two brothers of Fountain Abbey, the landlord
following them, and, as the saying is, washing his hands with humble soap.
But when the brothers of Fountain Abbey saw who it was that sang,
and how he was clad in the robes of a Gray Friar, they stopped suddenly,
the fat little Brother drawing his heavy eyebrows together in a mighty frown,
and the thin Brother twisting up his face as though he had sour beer
in his mouth. Then, as Little John gathered his breath for a new verse,
"How, now," roared forth the fat Brother, his voice coming from him
like loud thunder from a little cloud, "thou naughty fellow, is this
a fit place for one in thy garb to tipple and sing profane songs?"
"Nay," quoth Little John, "sin' I cannot tipple and sing,
like Your Worship's reverence, in such a goodly place as
Fountain Abbey, I must e'en tipple and sing where I can."
"Now, out upon thee," cried the tall lean Brother in a harsh voice,
"now, out upon thee, that thou shouldst so disgrace thy cloth by this
talk and bearing."
"Marry, come up!" quoth Little John. "Disgrace, sayest thou?
Methinks it is more disgrace for one of our garb to wring
hard-earned farthings out of the gripe of poor lean peasants.
It is not so, brother?"
At this the Tinker and the Peddler and the Beggar nudged one another,
and all grinned, and the friars scowled blackly at Little John; but they
could think of nothing further to say, so they turned to their horses.
Then Little John arose of a sudden from the bench where he sat,
and ran to where the brothers of Fountain Abbey were mounting.
Quoth he, "Let me hold your horses' bridles for you. Truly, your words
have smitten my sinful heart, so that I will abide no longer in this
den of evil, but will go forward with you. No vile temptation, I wot,
will fall upon me in such holy company."
"Nay, fellow," said the lean Brother harshly, for he saw that
Little John made sport of them, "we want none of thy company,
so get thee gone."
"Alas," quoth Little John, "I am truly sorry that ye like me
not nor my company, but as for leaving you, it may not be,
for my heart is so moved, that, willy-nilly, I must go with you
for the sake of your holy company."
Now, at this talk all the good fellows on the bench grinned till their
teeth glistened, and even the landlord could not forbear to smile.
As for the friars, they looked at one another with a puzzled look,
and knew not what to do in the matter. They were so proud that it made
them feel sick with shame to think of riding along the highroad with a
strolling friar, in robes all too short for him, running beside them,
but yet they could not make Little John stay against his will, for they knew
he could crack the bones of both of them in a twinkling were he so minded.
Then up spake the fat Brother more mildly than he had done before.
"Nay, good brother," said he, "we will ride fast, and thou wilt tire
to death at the pace."
"Truly, I am grateful to thee for the thought of me," quoth Little John,
"but have no fear, brother; my limbs are stout, and I could run like a hare
from here to Gainsborough."
At these words a sound of laughing came from the bench, whereat the lean
Brother's wrath boiled over, like water into the fire, with great fuss
and noise. "Now, out upon thee, thou naughty fellow!" he cried.
"Art thou not ashamed to bring disgrace so upon our cloth?
Bide thee here, thou sot, with these porkers. Thou art no fit
company for us."
"La, ye there now!" quoth Little John. "Thou hearest, landlord;
thou art not fit company for these holy men; go back to thine alehouse.
Nay, if these most holy brothers of mine do but give me the word,
I'll beat thy head with this stout staff till it is as soft
as whipped eggs."
At these words a great shout of laughter went up from those on the bench,
and the landlord's face grew red as a cherry from smothering his laugh
in his stomach; but he kept his merriment down, for he wished not to bring
the ill-will of the brothers of Fountain Abbey upon him by unseemly mirth.
So the two brethren, as they could do nought else, having mounted their nags,
turned their noses toward Lincoln and rode away.
"I cannot stay longer, sweet friends," quoth Little John, as he pushed in
betwixt the two cobs, "therefore I wish you good den. Off we go, we three."
So saying, he swung his stout staff over his shoulder and trudged off,
measuring his pace with that of the two nags.
The two brothers glowered at Little John when he so pushed
himself betwixt them, then they drew as far away from him as
they could, so that the yeoman walked in the middle of the road,
while they rode on the footpath on either side of the way.
As they so went away, the Tinker, the Peddler, and the Beggar
ran skipping out into the middle of the highway, each with a pot
in his hand, and looked after them laughing.
While they were in sight of those at the inn, the brothers walked their
horses soberly, not caring to make ill matters worse by seeming to run away
from Little John, for they could not but think how it would sound in folks'
ears when they heard how the brethren of Fountain Abbey scampered away
from a strolling friar, like the Ugly One, when the blessed Saint Dunstan
loosed his nose from the red-hot tongs where he had held it fast;
but when they had crossed the crest of the hill and the inn was lost
to sight, quoth the fat Brother to the thin Brother, "Brother Ambrose,
had we not better mend our pace?"
"Why truly, gossip," spoke up Little John, "methinks it would be
well to boil our pot a little faster, for the day is passing on.
So it will not jolt thy fat too much, onward, say I."
At this the two friars said nothing, but they glared again
on Little John with baleful looks; then, without another word,
they clucked to their horses, and both broke into a canter.
So they galloped for a mile and more, and Little John ran
betwixt them as lightly as a stag and never turned a hair
with the running. At last the fat Brother drew his horse's
rein with a groan, for he could stand the shaking no longer.
"Alas," said Little John, with not so much as a catch in his breath,
"I did sadly fear that the roughness of this pace would shake
thy poor old fat paunch."
To this the fat Friar said never a word, but he stared straight before him,
and he gnawed his nether lip. And now they traveled forward more quietly,
Little John in the middle of the road whistling merrily to himself,
and the two friars in the footpath on either side saying never a word.
Then presently they met three merry minstrels, all clad in red,
who stared amain to see a Gray Friar with such short robes
walking in the middle of the road, and two brothers.
with heads bowed with shame, riding upon richly caparisoned cobs
on the footpaths. When they had come near to the minstrels,
Little John waved his staff like an usher clearing the way.
"Make way!" he cried in a loud voice. "Make way! make way!
For here we go, we three!" Then how the minstrels stared,
and how they laughed! But the fat Friar shook as with an ague,
and the lean Friar bowed his head over his horse's neck.
Then next they met two noble knights in rich array, with hawk on wrist,
and likewise two fair ladies clad in silks and velvets, all a-riding
on noble steeds. These all made room, staring, as Little John
and the two friars came along the road. To them Little John
bowed humbly. "Give you greetings, lords and ladies," said he.
"But here we go, we three."
Then all laughed, and one of the fair ladies cried out,
"What three meanest thou, merry friend?"
Little John looked over his shoulder, for they had now passed each other,
and he called back, "Big Jack, lean Jack and fat Jack-pudding."
At this the fat Friar gave a groan and seemed as if he were like
to fall from his saddle for shame; the other brother said nothing,
but he looked before him with a grim and stony look.
Just ahead of them the road took a sudden turn around a high hedge,
and some twoscore paces beyond the bend another road crossed the one
they were riding upon. When they had come to the crossroad and were
well away from those they had left, the lean Friar drew rein suddenly.
"Look ye, fellow," quoth he in a voice quivering with rage, "we have had
enough of thy vile company, and care no longer to be made sport of.
Go thy way, and let us go ours in peace."
"La there, now!" quoth Little John. "Methought we were such a
merry company, and here thou dost blaze up like fat in the pan.
But truly, I ha' had enow of you today, though I can ill spare
your company. I know ye will miss me, but gin ye want me again,
whisper to Goodman Wind, and he will bring news thereof to me.
But ye see I am a poor man and ye are rich. I pray you give me
a penny or two to buy me bread and cheese at the next inn."
"We have no money, fellow," said the lean Friar harshly.
"Come, Brother Thomas, let us forward."
But Little John caught the horses by the bridle reins, one in either hand.
"Ha' ye in truth no money about you whatsoever?" said he.
"Now, I pray you, brothers, for charity's sake, give me somewhat
to buy a crust of bread, e'en though it be only a penny."
"I tell thee, fellow, we have no money," thundered the fat little
Friar with the great voice.
"Ha' ye, in holy truth, no money?" asked Little John.
"Not a farthing," said the lean Friar sourly.
"Not a groat," said the fat Friar loudly.
"Nay," quoth Little John, "this must not be. Far be it from me
to see such holy men as ye are depart from me with no money.
Get both of you down straightway from off your horses,
and we will kneel here in the middle of the crossroads and pray
the blessed Saint Dunstan to send us some money to carry us
on our journey."
"What sayest thou, thou limb of evil!" cried the lean Friar,
fairly gnashing his teeth with rage. "Doss thou bid me, the high
cellarer of Fountain Abbey, to get down from my horse and kneel
in the dirty road to pray to some beggarly Saxon saint?"
"Now," quoth Little John, "I ha' a great part of a mind to crack thy
head for thee for speaking thus of the good Saint Dunstan! But get
down straightway, for my patience will not last much longer,
and I may forget that ye are both in holy orders." So saying,
he twirled his stout staff till it whistled again.
At this speech both friars grew as pale as dough.
Down slipped the fat Brother from off his horse on one side,
and down slipped the lean Brother on the other.
"Now, brothers, down on your knees and pray," said Little John;
thereupon, putting his heavy hands upon the shoulder of each,
he forced them to their knees, he kneeling also. Then Little John began
to beseech Saint Dunstan for money, which he did in a great loud voice.
After he had so besought the Saint for a time, he bade the friars
feel in their pouches and see if the Saint had sent them anything;
so each put his hand slowly in the pouch that hung beside him,
but brought nothing thence.
"Ha!" quoth Little John, "have your prayers so little virtue?
can do for them that serve him upon a handful of parched peas and a trickle
of cold water."
At this a great shout of laughter went up. "Truly, it is a
wondrous thing," quoth the Beggar, "I would have made my vow, to see
the masterly manner in which thou didst tuck away yon pot of ale,
that thou hadst not tasted clear water for a brace of months.
Has not this same holy Saint Dunstan taught thee a goodly
song or two?"
"Why, as for that," quoth Little John, grinning, "mayhap he hath lent
me aid to learn a ditty or so."
"Then, prythee, let us hear how he hath taught thee,"
quoth the Tinker.
At this Little John cleared his throat and, after a word or two
about a certain hoarseness that troubled him, sang thus:
"_Ah, pretty, pretty maid, whither dost thou go?
I prythee, prythee, wait for thy lover also,
And we'll gather the rose
As it sweetly blows,
For the merry, merry winds are blo-o-o-wing_."
Now it seemed as though Little John's songs were never to get sung,
for he had got no farther than this when the door of the inn opened
and out came the two brothers of Fountain Abbey, the landlord
following them, and, as the saying is, washing his hands with humble soap.
But when the brothers of Fountain Abbey saw who it was that sang,
and how he was clad in the robes of a Gray Friar, they stopped suddenly,
the fat little Brother drawing his heavy eyebrows together in a mighty frown,
and the thin Brother twisting up his face as though he had sour beer
in his mouth. Then, as Little John gathered his breath for a new verse,
"How, now," roared forth the fat Brother, his voice coming from him
like loud thunder from a little cloud, "thou naughty fellow, is this
a fit place for one in thy garb to tipple and sing profane songs?"
"Nay," quoth Little John, "sin' I cannot tipple and sing,
like Your Worship's reverence, in such a goodly place as
Fountain Abbey, I must e'en tipple and sing where I can."
"Now, out upon thee," cried the tall lean Brother in a harsh voice,
"now, out upon thee, that thou shouldst so disgrace thy cloth by this
talk and bearing."
"Marry, come up!" quoth Little John. "Disgrace, sayest thou?
Methinks it is more disgrace for one of our garb to wring
hard-earned farthings out of the gripe of poor lean peasants.
It is not so, brother?"
At this the Tinker and the Peddler and the Beggar nudged one another,
and all grinned, and the friars scowled blackly at Little John; but they
could think of nothing further to say, so they turned to their horses.
Then Little John arose of a sudden from the bench where he sat,
and ran to where the brothers of Fountain Abbey were mounting.
Quoth he, "Let me hold your horses' bridles for you. Truly, your words
have smitten my sinful heart, so that I will abide no longer in this
den of evil, but will go forward with you. No vile temptation, I wot,
will fall upon me in such holy company."
"Nay, fellow," said the lean Brother harshly, for he saw that
Little John made sport of them, "we want none of thy company,
so get thee gone."
"Alas," quoth Little John, "I am truly sorry that ye like me
not nor my company, but as for leaving you, it may not be,
for my heart is so moved, that, willy-nilly, I must go with you
for the sake of your holy company."
Now, at this talk all the good fellows on the bench grinned till their
teeth glistened, and even the landlord could not forbear to smile.
As for the friars, they looked at one another with a puzzled look,
and knew not what to do in the matter. They were so proud that it made
them feel sick with shame to think of riding along the highroad with a
strolling friar, in robes all too short for him, running beside them,
but yet they could not make Little John stay against his will, for they knew
he could crack the bones of both of them in a twinkling were he so minded.
Then up spake the fat Brother more mildly than he had done before.
"Nay, good brother," said he, "we will ride fast, and thou wilt tire
to death at the pace."
"Truly, I am grateful to thee for the thought of me," quoth Little John,
"but have no fear, brother; my limbs are stout, and I could run like a hare
from here to Gainsborough."
At these words a sound of laughing came from the bench, whereat the lean
Brother's wrath boiled over, like water into the fire, with great fuss
and noise. "Now, out upon thee, thou naughty fellow!" he cried.
"Art thou not ashamed to bring disgrace so upon our cloth?
Bide thee here, thou sot, with these porkers. Thou art no fit
company for us."
"La, ye there now!" quoth Little John. "Thou hearest, landlord;
thou art not fit company for these holy men; go back to thine alehouse.
Nay, if these most holy brothers of mine do but give me the word,
I'll beat thy head with this stout staff till it is as soft
as whipped eggs."
At these words a great shout of laughter went up from those on the bench,
and the landlord's face grew red as a cherry from smothering his laugh
in his stomach; but he kept his merriment down, for he wished not to bring
the ill-will of the brothers of Fountain Abbey upon him by unseemly mirth.
So the two brethren, as they could do nought else, having mounted their nags,
turned their noses toward Lincoln and rode away.
"I cannot stay longer, sweet friends," quoth Little John, as he pushed in
betwixt the two cobs, "therefore I wish you good den. Off we go, we three."
So saying, he swung his stout staff over his shoulder and trudged off,
measuring his pace with that of the two nags.
The two brothers glowered at Little John when he so pushed
himself betwixt them, then they drew as far away from him as
they could, so that the yeoman walked in the middle of the road,
while they rode on the footpath on either side of the way.
As they so went away, the Tinker, the Peddler, and the Beggar
ran skipping out into the middle of the highway, each with a pot
in his hand, and looked after them laughing.
While they were in sight of those at the inn, the brothers walked their
horses soberly, not caring to make ill matters worse by seeming to run away
from Little John, for they could not but think how it would sound in folks'
ears when they heard how the brethren of Fountain Abbey scampered away
from a strolling friar, like the Ugly One, when the blessed Saint Dunstan
loosed his nose from the red-hot tongs where he had held it fast;
but when they had crossed the crest of the hill and the inn was lost
to sight, quoth the fat Brother to the thin Brother, "Brother Ambrose,
had we not better mend our pace?"
"Why truly, gossip," spoke up Little John, "methinks it would be
well to boil our pot a little faster, for the day is passing on.
So it will not jolt thy fat too much, onward, say I."
At this the two friars said nothing, but they glared again
on Little John with baleful looks; then, without another word,
they clucked to their horses, and both broke into a canter.
So they galloped for a mile and more, and Little John ran
betwixt them as lightly as a stag and never turned a hair
with the running. At last the fat Brother drew his horse's
rein with a groan, for he could stand the shaking no longer.
"Alas," said Little John, with not so much as a catch in his breath,
"I did sadly fear that the roughness of this pace would shake
thy poor old fat paunch."
To this the fat Friar said never a word, but he stared straight before him,
and he gnawed his nether lip. And now they traveled forward more quietly,
Little John in the middle of the road whistling merrily to himself,
and the two friars in the footpath on either side saying never a word.
Then presently they met three merry minstrels, all clad in red,
who stared amain to see a Gray Friar with such short robes
walking in the middle of the road, and two brothers.
with heads bowed with shame, riding upon richly caparisoned cobs
on the footpaths. When they had come near to the minstrels,
Little John waved his staff like an usher clearing the way.
"Make way!" he cried in a loud voice. "Make way! make way!
For here we go, we three!" Then how the minstrels stared,
and how they laughed! But the fat Friar shook as with an ague,
and the lean Friar bowed his head over his horse's neck.
Then next they met two noble knights in rich array, with hawk on wrist,
and likewise two fair ladies clad in silks and velvets, all a-riding
on noble steeds. These all made room, staring, as Little John
and the two friars came along the road. To them Little John
bowed humbly. "Give you greetings, lords and ladies," said he.
"But here we go, we three."
Then all laughed, and one of the fair ladies cried out,
"What three meanest thou, merry friend?"
Little John looked over his shoulder, for they had now passed each other,
and he called back, "Big Jack, lean Jack and fat Jack-pudding."
At this the fat Friar gave a groan and seemed as if he were like
to fall from his saddle for shame; the other brother said nothing,
but he looked before him with a grim and stony look.
Just ahead of them the road took a sudden turn around a high hedge,
and some twoscore paces beyond the bend another road crossed the one
they were riding upon. When they had come to the crossroad and were
well away from those they had left, the lean Friar drew rein suddenly.
"Look ye, fellow," quoth he in a voice quivering with rage, "we have had
enough of thy vile company, and care no longer to be made sport of.
Go thy way, and let us go ours in peace."
"La there, now!" quoth Little John. "Methought we were such a
merry company, and here thou dost blaze up like fat in the pan.
But truly, I ha' had enow of you today, though I can ill spare
your company. I know ye will miss me, but gin ye want me again,
whisper to Goodman Wind, and he will bring news thereof to me.
But ye see I am a poor man and ye are rich. I pray you give me
a penny or two to buy me bread and cheese at the next inn."
"We have no money, fellow," said the lean Friar harshly.
"Come, Brother Thomas, let us forward."
But Little John caught the horses by the bridle reins, one in either hand.
"Ha' ye in truth no money about you whatsoever?" said he.
"Now, I pray you, brothers, for charity's sake, give me somewhat
to buy a crust of bread, e'en though it be only a penny."
"I tell thee, fellow, we have no money," thundered the fat little
Friar with the great voice.
"Ha' ye, in holy truth, no money?" asked Little John.
"Not a farthing," said the lean Friar sourly.
"Not a groat," said the fat Friar loudly.
"Nay," quoth Little John, "this must not be. Far be it from me
to see such holy men as ye are depart from me with no money.
Get both of you down straightway from off your horses,
and we will kneel here in the middle of the crossroads and pray
the blessed Saint Dunstan to send us some money to carry us
on our journey."
"What sayest thou, thou limb of evil!" cried the lean Friar,
fairly gnashing his teeth with rage. "Doss thou bid me, the high
cellarer of Fountain Abbey, to get down from my horse and kneel
in the dirty road to pray to some beggarly Saxon saint?"
"Now," quoth Little John, "I ha' a great part of a mind to crack thy
head for thee for speaking thus of the good Saint Dunstan! But get
down straightway, for my patience will not last much longer,
and I may forget that ye are both in holy orders." So saying,
he twirled his stout staff till it whistled again.
At this speech both friars grew as pale as dough.
Down slipped the fat Brother from off his horse on one side,
and down slipped the lean Brother on the other.
"Now, brothers, down on your knees and pray," said Little John;
thereupon, putting his heavy hands upon the shoulder of each,
he forced them to their knees, he kneeling also. Then Little John began
to beseech Saint Dunstan for money, which he did in a great loud voice.
After he had so besought the Saint for a time, he bade the friars
feel in their pouches and see if the Saint had sent them anything;
so each put his hand slowly in the pouch that hung beside him,
but brought nothing thence.
"Ha!" quoth Little John, "have your prayers so little virtue?
- laughter [´lɑ:ftə]
n.笑，笑声 (初中英语单词) - beggar [´begə] n.乞丐 (初中英语单词)
- throat [θrəut] n.咽喉；嗓子；出入口 (初中英语单词)
- fountain [´fauntin] n.泉水；源泉；根源 (初中英语单词)
- humble [´hʌmbəl] a.谦卑的 vt.贬抑 (初中英语单词)
- breath [breθ] n.呼吸；气息 (初中英语单词)
- thunder [´θʌndə] n.雷 vi.打雷 vt.吼出 (初中英语单词)
- disgrace [dis´greis] n.耻辱 vt.玷辱；贬黜 (初中英语单词)
- landlord [´lændlɔ:d] n.地主；房东；店主 (初中英语单词)
- running [´rʌniŋ] a.奔跑的；流动的 (初中英语单词)
- grateful [´greitful] a.感谢的；令人愉快的 (初中英语单词)
- ashamed [ə´ʃeimd] a.惭愧；不好意思 (初中英语单词)
- stomach [´stʌmək] n.胃；胃口，食欲 (初中英语单词)
- highway [´haiwei] n.公路，大道 (初中英语单词)
- lightly [´laitli] ad.轻微地，稍微 (初中英语单词)
- presently [´prezəntli] ad.不久；目前 (初中英语单词)
- likewise [´laikwaiz] ad.同样地；也，又 (初中英语单词)
- saddle [´sædl] n.鞍子 v.装鞍(于) (初中英语单词)
- cheese [tʃi:z] n.干酪，乳酪 (初中英语单词)
- patience [´peiʃəns] n.忍耐(力)；耐心；坚韧 (初中英语单词)
- virtue [´və:tʃu:] n.美德；贞操；长处 (初中英语单词)
- handful [hændful] n.一把，少数，一小撮 (高中英语单词)
- sweetly [´swi:tli] ad.甜蜜地；美妙地 (高中英语单词)
- saying [´seiŋ, ´sei-iŋ] n.言语；言论；格言 (高中英语单词)
- mighty [´maiti] a.强有力的 ad.很 (高中英语单词)
- naughty [´nɔ:ti] a.顽皮的；下流的 (高中英语单词)
- reverence [´revərəns] n.尊敬；敬畏；尊严 (高中英语单词)
- goodly [´gudli] a.适意的；漂亮的 (高中英语单词)
- temptation [temp´teiʃən] n.引诱，诱惑(物) (高中英语单词)
- cherry [´tʃeri] n.樱桃(树) (高中英语单词)
- onward [´ɔnwəd] ad.&a.向前(的) (高中英语单词)
- merrily [´merili] ad.欢乐地；愉快地 (高中英语单词)
- bridle [´braidl] n.(马)笼头；束缚 (高中英语单词)
- straightway [´streitwei] ad.立刻 (高中英语单词)
- beseech [bi´si:tʃ] v.恳求，哀求 (高中英语单词)
- drawing [´drɔ:iŋ] n.画图；制图；图样 (英语四级单词)
- profane [prə´fein] a.亵渎的 vt.玷污 (英语四级单词)
- tinker [´tiŋkə] n.&v.补锅(匠) (英语四级单词)
- forbear [fɔ:´beə, fə-] v.容忍；克制 n.祖先 (英语四级单词)
- mildly [´maildli] ad.温和地；适度地 (英语四级单词)
- whereat [weər´æt] ad.对于...；在这里 (英语四级单词)
- merriment [´merimənt] n.欢乐 (英语四级单词)
- nought [nɔ:t] n.=naught (英语四级单词)
- lincoln [´liŋkən] n.林肯 (英语四级单词)
- yeoman [´jəumən] n.自由民；自耕农 (英语四级单词)
- soberly [´səubəli] ad.严肃地；清醒地 (英语四级单词)
- seeming [´si:miŋ] a.表面上的 n.外观 (英语四级单词)
- blessed [´blesid] a.享福的；神圣的 (英语四级单词)
- traveled [´trævəld] a.见面广的；旅客多的 (英语四级单词)
- richly [´ritʃli] ad.富裕地；浓厚地 (英语四级单词)
- clearing [´kliəriŋ] n.(森林中的)空旷地 (英语四级单词)
- humbly [´hʌmbli] ad.恭顺地，谦卑地 (英语四级单词)
- besought [bi´sɔ:t] beseech过去式(分词) (英语四级单词)
- smitten [´smitn] smite的过去分词 (英语六级单词)
- harshly [´hɑ:ʃli] ad.粗糙地，冷酷地 (英语六级单词)
- nether [´neðə] a.下面的；地下的 (英语六级单词)
- speaking [´spi:kiŋ] n.说话 a.发言的 (英语六级单词)
文章标签:名著
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