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Слово "stately". Англо-русский словарь Мюллера

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  1. stately [ˈsttlɪ] имя прилагательное
    величавый, величественный, полный достоинства

    Примеры использования

    1. "Come in, Mr. Dance," says he, very stately and condescending.
      - Войдите, мистер Данс, - сказал он высокомерно и снисходительно.
      Остров сокровищ. Роберт Льюис Стивенсон, стр. 31
    2. Seen now, in broad daylight, she looked tall, fair, and shapely; brown eyes with a benignant light in their irids, and a fine pencilling of long lashes round, relieved the whiteness of her large front; on each of her temples her hair, of a very dark brown, was clustered in round curls, according to the fashion of those times, when neither smooth bands nor long ringlets were in vogue; her dress, also in the mode of the day, was of purple cloth, relieved by a sort of Spanish trimming of black velvet; a gold watch (watches were not so common then as now) shone at her girdle. Let the reader add, to complete the picture, refined features; a complexion, if pale, clear; and a stately air and carriage, and he will have, at least, as clearly as words can give it, a correct idea of the exterior of Miss Temple—Maria Temple, as I afterwards saw the name written in a prayer-book intrusted to me to carry to church.
      Теперь, при ярком дневном свете, я увидела, что она высока, стройна и красива; карие глаза с тонкой каймою длинных ресниц, полные ясности и благожелательности, оттеняли белизну высокого крутого лба; тогда не были в моде ни гладкие бандо, ни длинные локоны, и ее очень темные волосы лежали на висках крупными завитками; платье, тоже по моде того времени, было суконное лиловое, с отделкой из черного бархата. На поясе висели золотые часы. (Часы тогда еще не были так распространены, как теперь.) Пусть читатель прибавит к этому тонкие благородные черты, мраморную бледность, статную фигуру и движения, полные достоинства, и вы получите, насколько его можно передать словами, точный портрет мисс Темпль - Марии Темпль, как я прочла позднее на ее молитвеннике, когда мне было однажды поручено нести его в церковь.
      Джейн Эйр. Шарлотта Бронте, стр. 47
    3. ‘Who’s they?’ Dunbar demanded suspiciously. In a bed in the small private section at the end of the ward, always working ceaselessly behind the green plyboard partition, was the solemn middle-aged colonel who was visited every day by a gentle, sweet-faced woman with curly ash-blond hair who was not a nurse and not a Wac and not a Red Cross girl but who nevertheless appeared faithfully at the hospital in Pianosa each afternoon wearing pretty pastel summer dresses that were very smart and white leather pumps with heels half high at the base of nylon seams that were inevitably straight. The colonel was in Communications, and he was kept busy day and night transmitting glutinous messages from the interior into square pads of gauze which he sealed meticulously and delivered to a covered white pail that stood on the night table beside his bed. The colonel was gorgeous. He had a cavernous mouth, cavernous cheeks, cavernous, sad, mildewed eyes. His face was the color of clouded silver. He coughed quietly, gingerly, and dabbed the pads slowly at his lips with a distaste that had become automatic. The colonel dwelt in a vortex of specialists who were still specializing in trying to determine what was troubling him. They hurled lights in his eyes to see if he could see, rammed needles into nerves to hear if he could feel. There was a urologist for his urine, a lymphologist for his lymph, an endocrinologist for his endocrines, a psychologist for his psyche, a dermatologist for his derma; there was a pathologist for his pathos, a cystologist for his cysts, and a bald and pedantic cetologist from the zoology department at Harvard who had been shanghaied ruthlessly into the Medical Corps by a faulty anode in an I.B.M. machine and spent his sessions with the dying colonel trying to discuss Moby Dick with him. The colonel had really been investigated. There was not an organ of his body that had not been drugged and derogated, dusted and dredged, fingered and photographed, removed, plundered and replaced. Neat, slender and erect, the woman touched him often as she sat by his bedside and was the epitome of stately sorrow each time she smiled. The colonel was tall, thin and stooped. When he rose to walk, he bent forward even more, making a deep cavity of his body, and placed his feet down very carefully, moving ahead by inches from the knees down. There were violet pools under his eyes. The woman spoke softly, softer than the colonel coughed, and none of the men in the ward ever heard her voice.
      — Кто это ему предоставит? — подозрительно переспросил Данбэр.
      Уловка-22. Джозеф Хеллер, стр. 9

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