词汇：beside
prep. 在旁边；与…相比；和…无关
相关场景
- “Captain Call?” he asked. “I write for the Denver paper. They pointed you out to me. Can I speak to you for a minute?” Call mounted the dun and caught the mule’s lead rope. “I have to ride,” he said. “It’s still a ways to Texas.” He started to go, but the boy would not give up. He strode beside the dun, talking, much as Clara had, except that the boy was merely excited. Call thought it strange that two people on one trip would follow him off.
“呼叫船长？”他问。“我是为丹佛报纸写的。他们把你指给我看。我能和你谈谈吗。“我必须骑马，”他说。“这仍然是去德克萨斯州的路。”他开始走，但男孩不会放弃。他大步走在那辆黄褐色的车旁，说话的样子和克拉拉一样，只是男孩只是很兴奋。Call觉得奇怪的是，一次旅行中有两个人会跟着他走。>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇- “I’ll write him,” she said. “I’ll see he gets your name if I have to carry the letter to Montana myself. And I’ll tell you another thing: I’m sorry you and Gus McCrae ever met. All you two done was ruin one another, not to mention those close to you. Another reason I didn’t marry him was because I didn’t want to fight you for him every day of my life. You men and your promises: they’re just excuses to do what you plan to do anyway, which is leave. You think you’ve always done right—that’s your ugly pride, Mr. Call. But you never did right and it would be a sad woman that needed anything from you. You’re a vain coward, for all your fighting. I despised you then, for what you were, and I despise you now, for what you’re doing.” Clara could not check her bitterness—even now, she knew, the man thought he was doing the right thing. She strode beside the horse, pouring out her contempt, until Call put the mule and the dun into a trot, the buggy, with the coffin on it, squeaking as it bounced over the rough plain.SO CAPTAIN CALL TURNED back down the rivers, cut by the quirt of Clara’s contempt and seared with the burn of his own regret. For a week, down from the Platte and across the Republican, he could not forget what she said: that he had never done right, that he and Gus had ruined one another, that he was a coward, that she would take a letter to the boy. He had gone through life feeling that he had known what should be done, and now a woman flung it at him that he hadn’t.
“我会给他写信的，”她说。“如果我必须亲自把这封信带到蒙大拿州，我会看到他得到你的名字。我还要告诉你另一件事：我很抱歉你和格斯·麦克雷见过面。你们俩所做的只是互相毁灭，更不用说那些亲近的人了。我没有嫁给他的另一个原因是，我不想在我生命中的每一天都为他和你战斗。你们这些男人和你们的承诺：不管怎样，它们只是做你计划做的事情的借口，那就是离开。你认为你一直做得对——这是你丑陋的骄傲，Call先生。但你从来没有做过对的事，一个需要你做任何事情的悲伤女人。你是一个徒劳的懦夫，尽管你战斗了这么久。那时我鄙视你，因为你是什么样的人，现在我也鄙视你，也因为你在做什么。”克拉拉无法控制自己的痛苦——即使现在，她知道，那个男人认为他做的是对的。她大步走在马旁边，倾诉着她的蔑视，直到Call把骡子和驴子放进小跑中，马车上的棺材在崎岖的平原上颠簸时吱吱作响。于是，船长CALL转身顺流而下，被克拉拉的轻蔑所打断，又被自己的悔恨所灼烧。一个星期以来，从普拉特到整个共和党人，他都忘不了她说的话：他从来没有做过正确的事，他和格斯互相毁了对方，他是个懦夫，她会给那个男孩写信。他一生都觉得自己知道该做什么，现在一个女人向他扔来，说他没有。>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇- “Your horse but not your name?” Clara said. “You haven’t even given him your name?” “I put more value on the horse,” Call said, turning the dun. He rode off, but Clara, terrible in her anger, strode beside him.
“你的马，但不是你的名字？”克拉拉说。“你甚至还没告诉他你的名字？”“我更看重这匹马，”Call转过身来说。他骑马走了，但克拉拉气得要命，大步走到他身边。>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇- The weather improved the next day and he rode for a time beside a hundred or so Crow Indians who were traveling south. The Crow were friendly, and their old chief, a dried-up little man with a great appetite for tobacco and talk, tried to get Call to camp with them. They were all interested in the fact that he was traveling with a coffin and asked him many questions about the man inside it.>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
- “I tolt you, Pa,” he said. “Now we’re caught.” The old man, who had a jug beside his saddle, was clearly drunk, and seemed scarcely conscious of what was occurring.>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
- No Indians came in the night, and Augustus was glad of that. He began to feel feverish and was afraid of taking a chill. He had to cover himself with saddle blankets, though he kept his gun hand free and managed to stay awake most of the night—unlike Pea, who snored beside him, as deeply asleep as if he were in a feather bed.
晚上没有印第安人来，奥古斯都很高兴。他开始发烧，害怕感冒。他不得不用马鞍毯盖住自己，尽管他没有拿枪，而且大部分时间都保持清醒——不像豌豆，他在他身边打鼾，睡得很熟，就像在羽毛床上一样。>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇- Nonetheless, it was follow or be left, for Augustus had loped off after the buffalo, who had only run about a mile. He soon put them to flight again and raced along beside them, riding close to the herd. Pea Eye, caught by surprise, was left far behind in the race. He kept expecting to hear Gus’s big rifle, but he didn’t, and after a run of about two miles came upon Gus sitting peacefully on a little rise. The buffalo were still running, two or three miles ahead.>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
- Now, in a way, the daydream had come true. The Captain had taken him on a long trip. But instead of feeling proud and happy, he felt let down and confused. If it was true, why had everybody been such a long time mentioning it? Deets had never mentioned it. Pea Eye had never mentioned it. Worst of all, his mother had never mentioned it. He had been young when she died, but not too young to remember something so important. He could still remember some of the songs shehad sung to him—he could have remembered who his father was. It didn’t make sense, and he rode beside Mr. Gus for several miles, puzzling about it silently.>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
- AS THE HERD and the Hat Creek outfit slowly rode into Montana out of the barren Wyoming plain, it seemed to all of them that they were leaving behind not only heat and drought, but ugliness and danger too. Instead of being chalky and covered with tough sage, the rolling plains were covered with tall grass and a sprinkling of yellow flowers. The roll of the plains got longer; the heat shimmers they had looked through all summer gave way to cool air, crisp in the mornings and cold at night. They rode for days beside the Bighorn Mountains, whose peaks were sometimes hidden in cloud.>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
- Clara had brought two cups. She was very glad to be out of the house. She poured Cholo his coffee and then poured some for herself. She sat down on the mound of dirt beside him and looked into the open grave.>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
- At other times the question would have excited him, but under the circumstances he felt too dull to care much. Set beside the fact that Deets was gone, it didn’t seem to matter greatly.>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
- Augustus gave up and sat down beside the dead man. “I can’t do this today, Deets,” he said. “Somebody else will have to do it if it gets done.” Call also knelt down by Deets’s body. He could not get over his surprise. Though he had seen hundreds of surprising things in battle, this was the most shocking. An Indian boy who probably hadn’t been fifteen years old had run up toDeets and killed him.>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
- It would have been so much better to stay where they had lived, by the old river. Deets felt a longing to be back, to sit in the corrals at night and wonder about the moon. Many a time he had dozed off, wondering about the moon, whether the Indians had managed to get on it. Sometimes he dreamed he was on it himself—a foolish dream. But the thought made him sleepy, and with one more look of regret at the dead boy who hadn’t understood that he meant no harm, he carefully lay down on his side. Mr. Gus knelt beside him. For a moment Deets thought he was going to try to pull the lance out, but all he did was steady it so the handle wouldn’t quiver.>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
- Newt, who had enjoyed the picnic mightily, fell into conversation with Sally and rode beside the wagon. Lorena didn’t seem concerned—she and Betsey had taken to one another at once, and were chatting happily.>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
- When she came down from washing her face, she heard talk from the back and stopped dead on the stairs, for there was no doubt who was talking. The chord of memory that had been weakly struck by the sight of the horsemen resounded through her suddenly like an organ note. No sound in the world could have made her happier, for she heard the voice of Augustus McCrae, a voice like no other. He sounded exactly as he always had—hearing his voice so unexpectedly after sixteen years caused her eyes to fill. The sound took the years away. She stood on the stairs in momentary agitation, uncertain for a second as to when it was, or where she was, so much did it remind her of other times when Augustus would show up unexpectedly, and she, in her little room over the store, would hear him talking to her parents. Only now he was talking to her girls. Clara regretted not changing blouses—Gus had always appreciated her appearance. She walked on down the stairs and looked out the kitchen window. Sure enough, Gus was standing there, in front of his horse, talking to Betsey and Sally. Woodrow Call sat beside him, still mounted, and beside Call, on a bay horse, was a young blond woman wearing men’s clothes. A good-looking boy on a brown mare was the last of the group.Clara noted that Gus had already charmed the girls—July Johnson would be lucky to get another bowl of soup out of them as long as Gus was around.>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
- “I wish the Captain would fill the wagon with it,” Ben Rainey said. The opportunity existed, for Augustus was just driving up to the dry-goods store in the wagon, and the Captain rode beside him on the Hell Bitch.>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
- “I’m afraid of her,” she said simply. Her voice sounded thick with discouragement. “I’m afraid she’ll take you.” Augustus didn’t try to reason with her. What she felt was past reason. He had caused it by talking too freely about the woman he had once loved. He unsaddled and sat down beside her on the grass.>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
- Zwey stood beside her, big as one of the horses the cowboys rode.>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
- “Do you know Dee Boot?” she asked the cowboys. “I come to find Dee Boot.” The cowboys stared at her as if they hadn’t heard. Her hair was long and tangled, and she was wearing a nightdress. A huge buffalo hunter sat beside her.>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
- Luke had tied his horse beside the wagon, and he rode on the wagon seat beside Zwey, who kept looking around to see if Ellie was asleep. She wasn’t moving, but her eyes were still wide open.>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
- Soon all the mares in the corral were pricking their ears and watching the approaching wagon. A big man in a coat heavierthan Cholo’s rode beside it on a little brown horse that looked as if it would drop if it had to carry him much farther. A man with a badly scarred face rode on the wagon seat, beside a woman who was heavy with child. The woman drove the team. All three looked so blank with exhaustion that even the sight of people, after what must have been a long journey, didn’t excite them much. A few buffalo hides were piled in the wagon. Cholo watched the travelers carefully, but they didn’t seem to pose a threat. The woman drew rein and looked down at them as if dazed.>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
- Besides, Bob wasn’t really alive, even then—his eyes never flickered. It was only reflex that enabled him to swallow the soup she fed him. That his rod still seemed to live when she bathed him, that, too, was reflex, an obscene joke that life was playing on the two of them. It raised no feelings of tenderness in her, just a feeling of disgust at the cruelties of existence. It seemed to mock her, to make her feel that she was cheating Bob of something, though it was not easy to say what. She had married him, followed him, fed him, worked beside him, borne his children—and yet even as she changed his sheets she felt there was a selfishness in her that she had never mastered. Something had been held back—what it was, considering all that she had done, was hard to say. But she felt it anyway, fair judgment or not, and lay awake on her cot through half the night, tense with self-reproach.
此外，即使在那时，鲍勃也不是真的活着——他的眼睛从来没有眨过。这是唯一能让他吞下她喂他的汤的反射。当她给他洗澡时，他的鱼竿似乎还活着，这也是一种反射，一个淫秽的笑话，说生活在他们俩身上玩。这并没有让她感到温柔，只是对生存的残酷感到厌恶。这似乎在嘲笑她，让她觉得自己在欺骗鲍勃，尽管说什么并不容易。她嫁给了他，跟着他，喂他，在他身边工作，生了他的孩子——然而，即使她换了他的床单，她也觉得自己有一种从未掌握过的自私。有些事情被隐瞒了——考虑到她所做的一切，很难说是什么。但不管公平与否，她还是感觉到了，躺在床上睡了半个晚上，自责得很紧张。>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇- It seemed to her, after a month of it, that she was carrying Bob away with those sheets; he had already lost much weightand every morning seemed a little thinner to her. The large body that had lain beside her so many nights, that had warmed her in the icy nights, that had covered her those many times through the years and given her five children, was dribbling away as offal, and there was nothing she could do about it. The doctors in Ogallala said Bob’s skull was fractured; you couldn’t put a splint on a skull; probably he’d die. And yet he wasn’t dead. Often when she was cleaning him, bathing his soiled loins and thighs with warm water, the stem of life between his legs would raise itself, growing as if a fractured skull meant nothing to it. Clara cried at the sight—what it meant to her was that Bob still hoped for a boy. He couldn’t talk or turn himself, and he would never beat another horse, most likely, but he still wanted a boy. The stem let her know it, night after night, when all she came in to do was clean the stains from a dying body. She would roll Bob on his side and hold him there for a while, for his back and legs were developing terrible bedsores. She was afraid to turn him on his belly for fear he might suffocate, but she would hold him on his side for an hour, sometimes napping as she held him. Then she would roil him back and cover him and go back to her cot, often to lie awake half the night, looking at the prairies, sad beyond tears at the ways of things. There Bob lay, barely alive, his ribs showing more every morning, still wanting a boy. I could do it, she thought—would it save him if I did? I could go through it one more time—the pregnancy, the fear, the sore nipples, the worry—and maybe it would be a boy. Though she had borne five children, she sometimes felt barren, lying on her cot at night. She felt she was ignoring her husband’s last wish—that if she had any generosity she would do it for him. How could she lie night after night and ignore the strange, mute urgings of a dying man, one who had never been anything but kind to her, in his clumsy way. Bob, dying, still wanted her to make a little Bob. Sometimes in the long silent nights she felt she must be going crazy to think about such things, in such a way. And yet she came to dread having to go to him at night; it became as hard as anything she had had to do in her marriage. It was so hard that at times she wished Bob would go on and die, if he couldn’t get well. The truth was, she didn’t want another child, particularly not another boy. Somehow she felt confident she could keep her girls alive—but she lacked that confidence where boys were concerned. She remembered too well the days of icy terror and restless pain as she listened to Jim cough his way to death. She remembered her hatred of, and helplessness before, the fevers that had taken Jeff and Johnny. Not again, she thought—I won’t live that again, even for you, Bob. The memory of the fear that had torn her as her children approached death was the most vivid of her life: she could remember the coughings, the painful breathing. She never wanted to listen helplessly to such again.>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
- With her, it was different. He had never raised a hand to her, though she provoked him often, and deeply. Perhaps it was because he had never quite believed that she would marry him, or never quite understood why she had. The shadow of Augustus McCrae had hung over their courtship; Bob had never known why she chose him over the famous Ranger, or over any of the other men she could have had. In her day she had been the most sought-after girl in Texas, and yet she had married him, and followed him to the Nebraska plains, and stayed and worked beside him. It was hard country for women, Bob knew that. Women died, went crazy or left. The wife of their nearest neighbor, Maude Jones, had killed herself with a shotgun one morning, leaving a note which merely said, “Can’t stand listening to this wind no more.” Maude had had a husband and four children, but had killed herself anyway. For a time, Clara had taken in the children, until their grandparents in Missouri came for them. Len Jones, Maude’s husband, soon drank himself into poverty. He fell out of his wagon drunk one night and froze to death not two hundred yards from a saloon.
和她在一起，情况就不同了。他从未向她举手，尽管她经常深深地激怒他。也许是因为他从来没有完全相信她会嫁给他，或者从来没有完全理解她为什么会嫁给他。奥古斯特·麦克雷的影子笼罩着他们的求爱；鲍勃从来不知道她为什么选择他而不是著名的游侠，或者她本可以拥有的任何其他男人。在她那个时代，她是得克萨斯州最受欢迎的女孩，但她嫁给了他，跟着他去了内布拉斯加州平原，在他身边呆着工作。鲍勃知道，这对女人来说是个艰难的国家。女人死了，疯了，或者离开了。一天早上，他们最近的邻居莫德·琼斯的妻子用霰弹枪自杀，留下一张纸条，上面只写着：“再也受不了这风了。”莫德有一个丈夫和四个孩子，但还是自杀了。有一段时间，克拉拉收留了孩子们，直到他们在密苏里州的祖父母来接他们。莫德的丈夫伦琼斯很快就喝得酩酊大醉，陷入了贫困。一天晚上，他醉醺醺地从马车上掉下来，在离酒馆不到两百码的地方冻死了。>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇- But she didn’t freeze, and Jeff and Johnny had been buried beside Jim, and despite her resolve never to lay herself open to such heartbreak again, she had the girls, neither of whom had ever had more than a cold. Bob couldn’t believe his own bad luck; he longed for a strong boy or two to help him with the stock.
但她没有冻僵，杰夫和约翰尼被埋在吉姆旁边，尽管她决心再也不让自己心碎，但她有两个女儿，她们都没有感冒过。鲍勃简直不敢相信自己运气不好；他渴望有一两个强壮的男孩来帮他处理股票。>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇