Their sickly sweet scent cloyed the damp air around him, and he curled his lip to drive the smell out of his nostrils.

它们令作呕甜甜气味弥漫在他湿空气中，他弯起嘴唇，将气味从鼻孔中赶出去。

The riot of images, the violent volubility of language, all that cloys and satiates in the Elizabethans yet appears to be drawn up with a roar as a feeble fire is sucked up by a newspaper.

图像骚乱，语言暴力滔滔不绝，所有这些令伊丽莎白时代到厌烦和满足，但似乎都是在咆哮中写出来，就像微弱火焰被报纸吸走一样。