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2019年10月18日 04:24:10来源:中华时讯

太太的脑子是很容易加以分析的。她是个智力贫乏、不学无术、喜怒无常的女人,只要碰到不称心的事,她就以为神经衰弱。她生平的大事就是嫁女儿;她生平的安慰就是访友拜客和打听新闻。;I desire you will do no such thing. Lizzy is not a bit better than the others; and I am sure she is not half so handsome as Jane, nor half so good-humoured as Lydia. But you are always giving HER the preference. ;;They have none of them much to recommend them, ; replied he; ;they are all silly and ignorant like other girls; but Lizzy has something more of quickness than her sisters. ;;Mr. Bennet, how CAN you abuse your own children in such a way? You take delight in vexing me. You have no compassion for my poor nerves. ;;You mistake me, my dear. I have a high respect for your nerves. They are my old friends. I have heard you mention them with consideration these last twenty years at least. ;Mr. Bennet was so odd a mixture of quick parts, sarcastic humour, reserve, and caprice, that the experience of three-and-twenty years had been insufficient to make his wife understand his character. HER mind was less difficult to develop. She was a woman of mean understanding, little information, and uncertain temper. When she was discontented, she fancied herself nervous. The business of her life was to get her daughters married; its solace was visiting and news. Article/201105/136994。

  • CHAPTER XVThe Footsteps Die out for Ever ALONG the Paris streets, the death-carts rumble, hollow and harsh. Six tumbrils carry the day's wine to La Guillotine. All the devouring and insatiate Monsters imagined since imagination could record itself, are fused in the one realisation, Guillotine. And yet there is not in France, with its rich variety of soil and climate, a blade, a leaf, a root, a sprig, a peppercorn, which will grow to maturity under conditions more certain than those that have produced this horror. Crush humanity out of shape once more, under similar hammers, and it will twist itself into the same tortured forms. Sow the same seed of rapacious licence and oppression over again, and it will surely yield the same fruit according to its kind. Six tumbrils roll along the streets. Change these back again to what they were, thou powerful enchanter, Time, and they shall be seen to be the carriages of absolute monarchs, the equipages of feudal nobles, the toilettes of flaring Jezebels, the churches that are not my father's house but dens of thieves, the huts of millions of starving peasants! No; the great magician who majestically works out the appointed order of the Creator, never reverses his transformations. `If thou be changed into this shape by the will of God,' say the seers to the enchanted, in the wise Arabian stories, `then remain so! But, if thou wear this form through mere passing conjuration, then resume thy former aspect!' Changeless and hopeless, the tumbrils roll along. As the sombre wheels of the six carts go round, they seem to plough up a long crooked furrow among the populace in the streets. Ridges of faces are thrown to this side and to that, and the ploughs go steadily onward. So used are the regular inhabitants of the houses to the spectacle, that in many windows there are no people, and in some the occupation of the hands is not so much as suspended, while the eyes survey the faces in the tumbrils. Here and there, the inmate has visitors to see the sight; then he points his finger, with something of the complacency of a curator or authorised exponent, to this cart and to this, and seems to tell who sat here yesterday, and who there the day before. Of the riders in the tumbrils, some observe these things, and all things on their last roadside, with an impassive stare; others, with a lingering interest in the ways of life and men. Some, seated with drooping heads, are sunk in silent despair; again, there are some so heedful of their looks that they cast upon the multitude such glances as they have seen in theatres, and in pictures. Several close their eyes, and think, or try to get their straying thoughts together. Only one, and he a miserable creature, of a crazed aspect, is so shattered and made drunk by horror, that he sings, and tries to dance. Not one of the whole number appeals by look or gesture, to the pity of the people. There is a guard of sundry horsemen riding abreast of the tumbrils, and faces are often turned up to some of them, and they are asked some question. It would seem to be always the same question, for, it is always followed by a press of people towards the third cart. The horsemen abreast of that cart, frequently point out one man in it with their swords. The leading curiosity is, to know which is he; he stands at the back of the tumbril with his head bent down, to converse with a mere girl who sits on the side of the cart, and holds his hand. He has no curiosity or care for the scene about him, and always speaks to the girl. Here and there in the long street of St. Honoré, cries are raised against him. If they move him at all, it is only to a quiet smile, as he shakes his hair a little more loosely about his face. He cannot easily touch his face, his arms being bound. On the steps of a church, awaiting the coming-up of the tumbrils, stands the Spy and prison-sheep. He looks into the first of them: not there. He looks into the second: not there. He aly asks himself, `Has he sacrificed me?' when his face clears, as he looks into the third. `Which is Evrémonde?' says a man behind him. `That. At the back there.' `With his hand in the girl's?' `Yes.' The man cries, `Down, Evrémonde To the Guillotine all aristocrats! Down, Evrémonde!' `Hush, hush!' the Spy entreats him, timidly. `And why not, citizen?' `He is going to pay the forfeit: it will be paid in five minutes more. Let him be at peace.' But the man continuing to exclaim, `Down, Evrémonde!' the face of Evrémonde is for a moment turned towards him. Evrémonde then sees the Spy, and looks attentively at him, and goes his way. The clocks are on the stroke of three, and the furrow ploughed among the populace is turning round, to come on into the place of execution, and end. The ridges thrown to this side and to that, now crumble in and close behind the last plough as it passes on, for all are following to the Guillotine. In front of it, seated in chairs, as in a garden of public diversion, are a number of women, busily knitting. On one of the foremost chairs, stands The Vengeance, looking about for her friend. `Thérèse!' she cries, in her shrill tones. `Who has seen her? Thérèse Defarge!' `She never missed before,' says a knitting-woman of the sisterhood. `No; nor will site miss now,' cries The Vengeance, petulantly. `Thérèse!' `Louder,' the woman recommends. Ay! Louder, Vengeance, much louder, and still site will scarcely hear thee. Louder yet, Vengeance, with a little oath or so added, and yet it will hardly bring her. Send other women up and down to seek her, lingering somewhere; and yet, although the messengers have done d deeds, it is questionable whether of their own wills they will go far enough to find her! `Bad Fortune!' cries The Vengeance, stamping her foot in the chair, `and here are the tumbrils! And Evrémonde will be despatched in a wink, and she not here! See her knitting in my hand, and her empty chair y for her. I cry with `vexation and disappointment!' As The Vengeance descends from her elevation to do it, the tumbrils begin to discharge their loads. The ministers of Sainte Guillotine are robed and y. Crash!--A head is held up, and the knitting-women who scarcely lifted their eyes to look at it a moment ago when it could think and speak, count One. The second tumbril empties and moves on; the third comes up. Crash--And the knitting-women, never faltering or pausing in their work, count Two. The supposed Evrémonde descends, and the seamstress is lifted out next after him. He has not relinquished her patient hand in getting out, but still holds it as he promised. He gently places her with her back to the crashing engine that constantly whirrs up and falls, and she looks into his face and thanks him. `But for you, dear stranger, I should not be so composed, for I am naturally a poor little thing, faint of heart; nor should I have been able to raise my thoughts to Him who was put to death, that we might have hope and comfort here to-day. I think you were sent to me by Heaven. `Or you to me,' says Sydney Carton. `Keep your eyes upon me, dear child, and mind no other object.' `I mind nothing while I hold your hand. I shall mind nothing when I let it go, if they are rapid.' `They will be rapid. Fear not!' The two stand in the fast-thinning throng of victims, but they speak as if they were alone. Eye to eye, voice to voice, hand to hand, heart to heart, these two children of the Universal Mother, else so wide apart and differing, have come together on the dark highway, to repair home together, and to rest in her bosom. `Brave and generous friend, will you let me ask you one last question? I am very ignorant, and it troubles me--just a little.' `Tell me what it is.' `I have a cousin, an only relative and an orphan, like myself, whom I love very dearly. She is five years younger than I, and she lives in a farmer's house in the south country. Poverty parted us, and she knows nothing of my fate--for I cannot writ--and if I could, how should I tell her! It is better as it is.' `Yes, yes; better as it is.' `What I have been thinking as we came along, and what I am still thinking now, as I look into your kind strong face which gives me so much support, is this:--if the Republic really does good to the poor, and they come to be less hungry, and in all ways to suffer less, she may live a long time: she may even live to be old.' `What then, my gentle sister?' `Do you think:' the uncomplaining eyes in which there is so much endurance, fill with tears, and the lips part a little more and tremble: `that it will seem long to me, while I wait for her in the better land where I trust both you and I will be mercifully sheltered?' `It cannot be, my child; there is no Time there, and no trouble there.' `You comfort me so much! I am so ignorant. Am I to kiss you now? Is the moment come?' `Yes.' She kisses his lips; he kisses hers; they solemnly bless each other. The spare hand does not tremble as he releases it; nothing worse than a sweet, bright constancy is in the patient face. She goes next before him-is gone; the knitting-women count Twenty-Two. `I am the Resurrection and the Life, saith the Lord: he that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live: and whosoever liveth and believeth in me shall never die.' The murmuring of many voices, the upturning of many faces, the pressing on of many footsteps in the outskirts of the crowd, so that it swells forward in a mass, like one great heave of water, all flashes away. Twenty-Three. They said of him, about the city that night, that it was the peacefullest man's face ever beheld there. Many added that he looked sublime and prophetic. One of the most remarkable sufferers by the same axe--a woman--Had asked at the foot of the same scaffold, not long before, to be allowed to write down the thoughts that were inspiring her. If he had given an utterance to his, and they were prophetic, they would have been these: `I see Barsad, and Cly, Defarge, The Vengeance, the Juryman, the Judge, long ranks of the new oppressors who have risen on the destruction of the old, perishing by this retributive instrument, before it shall cease out of its present use. I see a beautiful city and a brilliant people' rising from this abyss, and, in their struggles to be truly free, in their triumphs and defeats, through long long years to come, I see the evil of this time and of the previous time of which this is the natural birth, gradually making expiation for itself and wearing out. `I see the lives for which I lay down my life, peaceful, useful, prosperous and happy, in that England which I shall see no more. I see Her with a child upon her bosom, who bears my name. I see her father, aged and bent, but otherwise restored, and faithful to all men in his healing office, and at peace. I see the good old man, so long their friend, in ten years' time enriching them with all he has, and passing tranquilly to his reward. `I see that I hold a sanctuary in their hearts, and in the hearts of their descendants, generations hence. I see her, an old woman, weeping for me on the anniversary of this day. I see her and her husband, their course done, lying side by side in their last earthly bed, and I know that each was not more honoured and held sacred in the other's soul, than I was in the souls of both. `I see that child who lay upon her bosom and who bore my name, a man winning his way up in that path of life which once was mine. I see him winning it so well, that my name is made illustrious there by the light of his. I see the blots I threw upon it, faded away. I see him, foremost of just judges and honoured men, bringing a boy of my name, with a forehead that I know and golden hair, to this place--then fair to look upon, with not a trace of this day's disfigurement--and I hear him tell the child my story, with a tender and a faltering voice. `It is a far, far better thing that I do, than I have ever done; it is a far, far better rest that I go to than I have ever known.' -----THE END----- 相关名著: 有声名著之傲慢与偏见 有声名著之儿子与情人 有声名著之红与黑 有声名著之了不起的盖茨比 有声名著之歌剧魅影 有声名著之远大前程 有声名著之巴斯史维尔猎犬 有声名著之吸血鬼 有声名著之野性的呼唤 有声名著之黑骏马 有声名著之海底两万里 有声名著之秘密花园 有声名著之化身士 有声名著之螺丝在拧紧 有声名著之三个火手更多名著gt;gt; Article/200905/71305。
  • #39;We can wait.Finish your dinner,#39;Inspector Walsh said.#39;We want to ask one or two questions about last night.#39;;我们可以等,你去吃饭吧,;沃尔什探长说。;我们想问一两个有关昨晚的问题。;#39;Come and wait in the front room,#39;Tom said and opened the door.;进来在前屋等吧,;汤姆说着打开了门。Inspector Walsh looked at the things in the front room.There was an old black and white television,and some books on the table.There was a picture of a happy young girl with long brown hair on the table,too.Inspector Walsh looked at the picture for a long time.Who was the girl?沃尔什探长看着前屋的东西。屋里有一台旧的黑白电视机,桌上还有些书。一个棕色长发,充满快乐的年青女孩的相片也在桌上,沃尔什探长盯着照片看了好一会。这女孩是谁?Tom Briggs came back into the front room.汤姆;布里格斯走进前屋。#39;Finished?#39;Inspector Walsh asked.#39;You know Mrs Clark-son is dead?#39;;吃完了?;沃尔什探长问。;你知道克拉克森太太死了吗?;Tom Briggs sat down suddenly on the nearest chair.#39;What?How did she die?When did it happen?I was there last night.#39;汤姆;布里格斯突然跌坐在最靠近身边的椅子上。;什么?她怎么死的?什么时候发生的?我昨晚还在那儿。;#39;She died last night or early this morning.What did you do last night?#39;;她死于昨晚或是今天清晨。你昨晚干了什么?;#39;Me?Why are you asking me?I went there to meet Mr Clarkson Roger.I#39;m losing money on this farm and I need more land.I want half Mrs Clarkson#39;s garden.#39;;我?你为什么要问我?我去那儿见克拉克森先生;;罗杰。我的农场在亏损,我需要更多的土地。我想要克拉克森夫人的半个花园。;#39;You went into the kitchen.What did you do next?Can you remember?#39;;你进了厨房,你接下来干了什么?你能记得吗?; Article/201203/174006。
  • 《哈克贝里·费恩历险记》第3章:第2节 相关专题:· 有声读物-安徒生童话故事·有声读物-浪漫满屋· 新概念优美背诵短文50篇 Article/200808/46833。
  • She had no fear of its sping farther through his means. There were few people on whose secrecy she would have more confidently depended; but, at the same time, there was no one whose knowledge of a sister#39;s frailty would have mortified her so much--not, however, from any fear of disadvantage from it individually to herself, for, at any rate, there seemed a gulf impassable between them. Had Lydia#39;s marriage been concluded on the most honourable terms, it was not to be supposed that Mr. Darcy would connect himself with a family where, to every other objection, would now be added an alliance and relationship of the nearest kind with a man whom he so justly scorned.她并不是担心达西会把这事情向外界传开。讲到保守秘密,简直就没有第二个人比他更能使她信任;不过,这一次如果是别的人知道了她的丑行,她决不会象现在这样难受。这倒不是生怕对她本身有任何不利,因为她和达西之间反正隔着一条跨不过的鸿沟。即使丽迪雅能够体体面面地结了婚,达西先生也决不会跟这样一家人家攀亲,因为这家人家本来已经缺陷够多,如今又添上了一个一向为他所不齿的人做他的至亲,那当然一切都不必谈了。From such a connection she could not wonder that he would shrink. The wish of procuring her regard, which she had assured herself of his feeling in Derbyshire, could not in rational expectation survive such a blow as this. She was humbled, she was grieved; she repented, though she hardly knew of what. She became jealous of his esteem, when she could no longer hope to be benefited by it. She wanted to hear of him, when there seemed the least chance of gaining intelligence. She was convinced that she could have been happy with him, when it was no longer likely they should meet. What a triumph for him, as she often thought, could he know that the proposals which she had proudly spurned only four months ago, would now have been most gladly and gratefully received! He was as generous, she doubted not, as the most generous of his sex; but while he was mortal, there must be a triumph.她当然不怪他对这门亲事望而却步。她在德比郡的时候就看出他想要得她的欢心,可是他遭受了这一次打击以后,当然不会不改变初衷。她觉得丢脸,她觉得伤心;她后悔了,可是她又几乎不知道在后悔些什么。如今她已经不想攀附他的身份地位,却又忌恨他的身份地位;如今她已经没有机会再听到他的消息,她可又偏偏希望能够听到他的消息;如今他们俩已经再不可能见面,她可又认为,如果他们俩能够朝夕聚首,那会多么幸福。她常常想,才不过四个月以前,她那么高傲地拒绝了他的求婚,如今可又心悦诚地盼望他再来求婚,这要是让他知道了,他会感到怎样的得意!她完全相信他是个极其宽宏大量的男人。不过,他既然是人,当然免不了要得意。She began now to comprehend that he was exactly the man who, in disposition and talents, would most suit her. His understanding and temper, though unlike her own, would have answered all her wishes. It was an union that must have been to the advantage of both; by her ease and liveliness, his mind might have been softened, his manners improved; and from his judgement, information, and knowledge of the world, she must have received benefit of greater importance.她开始理解到,他无论在个性方面和才能方面,都百分之百是一个最适合她的男人。纵使他的见解,他的脾气,和她自己不是一模一样,可是一定能够叫她称心如意。这个结合对双方都有好处:女方从容活泼,可以把男方陶治得心境柔和,作风优雅;男方精明通达,阅历颇深,也一定会使女方得到莫大的裨益。But no such happy marriage could now teach the admiring multitude what connubial felicity really was. An union of a different tendency, and precluding the possibility of the other, was soon to be formed in their family.可惜这件幸福的婚姻已经不可能实现,天下千千万万想要缔结真正幸福婚姻的情人,从此也错过了一个借鉴的榜样。她家里立刻就要缔结一门另一种意味的亲事,也就是那门亲事破坏了这门亲事。How Wickham and Lydia were to be supported in tolerable independence, she could not imagine. But how little of permanent happiness could belong to a couple who were only brought together because their passions were stronger than their virtue, she could easily conjecture.她无从想象韦翰和丽迪雅究竟怎么样独立维持生活。可是她倒很容易想象到另一方面:这种只顾情欲不顾道德的结合,实在很难得到久远的幸福。Mr. Gardiner soon wrote again to his brother. To Mr. Bennet#39;s acknowledgments he briefly replied, with assurance of his eagerness to promote the welfare of any of his family; and concluded with entreaties that the subject might never be mentioned to him again. The principal purport of his letter was to inform them that Mr. Wickham had resolved on quitting the militia.嘉丁纳先生马上又写了封信给他夫。他先对班纳特先生信上那些感激的话简捷地应酬了几句,再说到他极其盼望班纳特府上的男女老幼都能过得舒舒,末了还要求班纳特先生再也不要提起这件事。他写这封信的主要目的是,要把韦翰先生已经决定脱离民兵团的消息告诉他们。 Article/201205/181525。
  • 有声名著之永别了武器 Chapter22《永别了,武器》是美国诺贝尔文学奖获得者海明威的主要作品之一。美国青年弗瑞德里克·亨利在第一次世界大战后期志愿参加红十字会驾驶救护车,在意大利北部战线抢救伤员。在一次执行任务时,亨利被炮弹击中受伤,在米兰医院养伤期间得到了英国籍护士凯瑟琳的悉心护理,两人陷入了热恋。亨利伤愈后重返前线,随意大利部队撤退时目睹战争的种种残酷景象,毅然脱离部队,和凯瑟琳会合后逃往瑞士。结果凯瑟琳在难产中死去。海明威根据自己的参战经历,以战争与爱情为主线,吟唱了一曲哀婉动人的悲歌,曾多次被搬上银幕,堪称现代文学的经典名篇。英文原著:永别了武器PDF文本下载。
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