Prince Roman was a Polish nobleman, a captain in the army of Czar Nicholas of Russia. When his young wife died, the prince left the army and returned in sorrow to his native Poland.
In time, love for his country and its people took the place of his lost love. He joined a Polish rising against the Russians. The rising was crushed, and Prince Roman was taken prisoner. His relatives and friends begged the military court to have mercy on him.
The president of the court received these appeals kindly. He was a good Russian, but he was also a good-natured man. Russian hatred of Poles was not as fierce at that time as it became later; and the Russian felt sympathetic as soon as he saw the prince's thin, tired, sun-burnt face.
The court of three officers sat in a bare room, behind a long black table. Some clerks sat at the two ends, but no one else was there when the guards brought in the prince.
Those four walls shut out from Prince Roman all sights and sounds of freedom, all hopes of the future, all comforting thoughts. How much love for Poland remained in him then? How much love of life? He stood before his judges alone, having refused their permission to sit. He answered their first formal questions — his name and so on — clearly and politely although he felt too weary to talk.
Then the president of the court seemed to suggest how the young man could best help himself. He asked questions in a way that almost put the right answers in the prisoner's mouth.
“Didn't your wife's death drive you to despair? Wasn't your mind unbalanced by that sad event ?”
Prince Roman was silent.
"You were not fully responsible for you conduct, were you?"
Prince Roman was silent.
"You made a sudden blind decision to join the rising. You didn't realize that your actions were dangerous and dishonourable. Isn't that the truth of this unfortunate matter?"
The judges looked at the prisoner hopefully. In silence the prince reached for a pen and some paper. He wrote, "I joined the rising because I believe it was just." He pushed the paper towards the president, who took it and read it in silence.
Prince Roman was sentenced to hard work for life in the Siberian salt mines. It was a sentence of delayed death.
When Czar Nicholas read the report and sentence, he added in his own handwriting, "Make sure that this prisoner walks in chains every step of the way to Siberia."
【小题1】What does the passage tell us of Poland at the time?

Some plays are so successful that they run for years on end. In many ways, this is　 36　 for the poor actors who are required to go on repeating the sane　 37　 night after night. One would

 38　 them to know their parts by heart and　 39　 have cause to falter（结巴）.Yet　40　is not always the case.

　　A famous actor in a　 41　 successful play was once cast in the role of an aristocrat　 42　 had been imprisoned in Bastille for twenty years. In the last act，a gaoler（监狱长，看守）would always come on to the stage with a letter which he would hand to the prisoner.　 43　 the noble was expected to read the letter at each　 44　 ,he always insisted that it should be written out in full.

　　One night, the gaoler decided to play a joke　 45　 his colleague to find out if, after so many performances, he had managed to learn the　 46　 of the letter by heart. The curtain went up on the final act of the play and revealed（使显露）the aristocrat sitting alone behind bars in his dark cell. Just then，the gaoler　 47　 with the precious letter in his hands. He entered the　 48　and presented the letter to the aristocrat. But the copy he gave him had not been written out in　

 49　 as usual. It was simply a blank sheet of paper. The gaoler looked on eagerly,　50　 to see if his fellow actor had at last learnt his lines. The noble stared at the blank sheet of paper for a few seconds. Then，squinting（眯着眼看）his eves，he said,“The light is　 51　.Read the letter to me.”And he promptly handed the sheet of paper to the gaoler.　52　 that he could not remember a word of the letter either, the gaoler replied，“The light is indeed dim，sir. I must get my　 53　”With this, he hurried off the stage. Much to the aristocrat’s　 54　 ，the gaoler returned a few moments later with a pair of glasses and the　 55　 copy of the letter which he proceeded（继续进行）to read to the prisoner.

　　36．A. fortunate B. unfortunate C. happy D. unhappy

　　37．A. lines B. words C. plays D. roles

　　38．A. want B. ask C. expect D. wish

　　39．A. always B. never C. sometimes D. often

　　40．A. such B. the thing C. one D. this

　　41．A. highly B. high C. poorly D. poor

　　42．A. where B. what C. which D. who

　　43．A. Because B. Even though C. When D. Though

　　44．A. play B. performance C. role D. case

　　45．A. with B. in C. on D. to

　　46．A. pages B. joke C. lines D. contents

　　47．A. appeared B. disappeared C. came out D. came in

　　48．A. room B. cell C. stage D. office

　　49．A. English B. French C. order D. full

　　50．A. worded B. surprised C. anxious D. afraid

　　51．A. bright B. dim C. dark D. out

　　52．A. To see B. To find C. Seeing D. Finding

　　53．A. glasses B. lines C. light D. letters

　　54．A. surprise B. satisfaction C. anger D. amusement

　　55．A. usual B. old C. unusual D. new

The prisoner of war wished to be _________. Ten years later, he ____ and went home.

A．free; is set free     B．freely; was set free  C．freely; is set free    D．free; was set free

D
It was the afternoon of December 24, the day before Christmas, and as the newest doctor in our office, I had to work. The only thing that brightened my day was the beautifully decorated Christmas tree in our waiting room and a gift sent to me by a fellow I was dating—a dozen long-stemmed red roses.
As I was cleaning my office, I was told a lady urgently needed to speak with me. As I stepped out, I noticed a young, tired-looking woman with a baby in her arms. Nervously, she explained that her husband—a prisoner in a nearby prison—was my next patient. She told me she wasn’t allowed to visit her husband in prison and that he had never seen his son. Her request was for me to let the boy’s father sit in the waiting room with her as long as possible before I called him for his appointment. Since my schedule wasn’t full, I agreed. After all, it was Christmas Eve.
A short time later, her husband arrived—with chains on his feet and hands, and two armed guards as bodyguards. The woman’s tired face lit up like our little Christmas tree when her husband took a seat beside her. I kept glancing out to watch them laugh, cry and share their child. After almost an hour, I called the prisoner back to my office. The patient seemed like a gentle and modest man. I wondered what he possibly could have done to be held under such conditions. I tried to make him as comfortable as possible.
At the end of the appointment, I wished him a Merry Christmas—a difficult thing to say to a man headed back to prison. He smiled and thanked me. He also said he felt saddened by the fact that he hadn’t been able to get his wife anything for Christmas. On hearing this, I was inspired with a wonderful idea.
I’ll never forget the look on both their faces as the prisoner gave his wife the beautiful, long-stemmed roses. I’m not sure who experienced the most joy—the husband in giving, the wife in receiving, or myself in having the opportunity to share in this special moment.
67.What can be inferred from the first paragraph?
A. The writer was a newcomer to her office. 
B. A fellow sent her a dozen red roses as Christmas present.
C. She was in low spirits because she had to work before Christmas.
D. She was at work with a light heart.
68. The young woman came to the writer’s office for the purpose of         .
A. having her baby examined      
B. giving her husband a chance to make his escape
C. having her husband examined  
D. getting a chance for her family to get together
69.The underlined part in Paragraph 3 most probably means          . 
A. to be sent to hospital            B. to be separated from his family
C. to be comfortable                   D. to become a prisoner
70. What does the writer learn from the story?
A. The wife experienced the most joy in receiving. 
B. An act of kindness can mean a lot.
C. The prisoner was treated with mercy.      
D. Whoever breaks the law should be punished.