词汇：forced

adj. 强迫的；被迫的

相关场景

A little later, while Clara was frying the chicken, Call came up from the lots. He wanted to buy some horses and had found some to his liking, but neither Cholo nor July would make the deal. They had shown him the horses readily enough, but informed him that Clara made all the deals. It seemed irregular to him: two grown men right there, and yet he was forced to do business with a woman.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
Jake didn’t answer. He was just glad he had not been forced to shoot anybody. It seemed ridiculous, attacking men in the dark. Even Indians waited until sunup. He took some hope from the fact that Frog Lip claimed to have been hit, though how anybody knew where to shoot was a mystery to him.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
The clerk shook his head. “Not so far as I know,” he said. “He’s up in Ogallala or Deadwood or somewhere, where there’s lots of whores and not too much law. I imagine he’s got five or six whores in his string right now. Of course he could have died, but he’s my nephew and I ain’t heard no news to that effect.” “Thank you for the loan of the pencil,” July said. He turned and walked out. He went straight to the livery stable and got his new horse, whose name was Pete. If Elmira wasn’t in Dodge she might be in Abilene, so he might as well start. But he didn’t start. He rode halfway out of town and then went back to the third saloon from the post office and inquired about the woman named Jennie. They said she had moved to another bar, up the street—a cowboy was even kind enough to point out the bar. A herd had been sold that morning and was being loaded onto boxcars. July rode over and watched the work a while—slow work and made slower by the cattle’s long horns, which kept getting tangled with one another as the cattle were being forced up the narrow loading chute. The cowboys yelled and popped their quirts, and the horses behaved expertly, but despite that, it seemed to take a long time to fill a boxcar.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“Jasper missed the cobbler, that’s the laugh,” Allen O’Brien said, not feeling too frisky himself. “I used to be better at hangovers, back in Ireland. Of course, then I had one every day,” he reflected. “I had more practice.” When Jasper realized he had missed a dewberry cobbler, one of his favorite dishes, he threatened to quit the outfit, since they were so ungrateful. But he was too weak to carry out his threat. Po Campo forced him to eat a big spoonful of molasses as a headache cure, while the rest of the crew got the herd on the move.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
Hutto didn’t fight but neither did he get handcuffed, for the simple reason that his wrists were too big. July was forced to tie him with a saddle string, a method he would rather have avoided. A man as large as Hutto would eventually stretch out any rope or piece of rawhide if he kept trying.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
It sounded like July, and it looked like July, so Roscoe was forced to conclude that he was saved. He had been in the process of adjusting to impending death, and it seemed to him a part of him must already have left for the other place, because he felt sort of absent and dull. Ordinarily he would not have stood around on a muddy prairie naked, and yet in some ways it was easier than having to pick up the pieces of his life again, which meant, first off, having to literally pick up pieces of his clothes.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“Why must I?” Roscoe asked.“Well, your underwear might fit me,” Jim suggested. “You ain’t got much else to offer.” Roscoe was forced to take off every bit of clothing. He felt miserable taking off his boots, for he knew that wet as they were he’d be lucky to get them back on. But then, if he was dead it wouldn’t matter. When he got down to his long johns he became embarrassed, for after all Janey was sitting there watching. She was wet and muddy, and hadn’t said a word.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
An hour passed, and then another, and Roscoe was forced to consider the possibility that he might have lost the girl. One of the snakes she took so little notice of could have bitten her. She could be dying somewhere back along the trail.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
But he was forced to wait, as the old man scratched around in piles of dusty papers and looked in fifteen or twenty pigeonholes. “Dern,” the old man said. “I remember you having a letter. I hope some fool ain’t thrown it away by mistake.” Three cowboys came in, all with letters they had written to their sisters or sweethearts, and all of them had to stand there waiting while the old man continued his search. July’s heart began to sink. Probably the old man had a poor memory, and if there was a letter it was for somebody else.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
Fortunately the problem of direction was finally solved one afternoon when he ran into a little party of soldiers with a mule team. They claimed to be heading for someplace called Buffalo Springs, which was in Texas. There were only four soldiers, two horseback and two in the wagon, and they had relieved the tedium of travel by getting drunk. They were generous men, so generous that Roscoe was soon drunk too. His relief at finding men who knew where Texas was caused him to imbibe freely. He was soon sick to his stomach. The soldiers considerately let him ride in the wagon—not much easier on his stomach, for the wagon had no springs. Roscoe became so violently ill that he was forced to lie flat in the wagon bed with his head sticking out the back end, so that when the heaves hit him he could vomit, or at least spit, without anyone losing time.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
Meanwhile Louisa was wiggling around without much interest in what he thought about it all. Roscoe decided the best approach was to pretend a dream was happening, though he knew quite well it wasn’t. But Louisa’s vigor was such that even if Roscoe had got his thoughts in place they would soon have been jarred awry. A time or two he was practically lifted off the ground by her efforts; he was scooted off his tarp and back into the weeds and was forced to open his eyes again in hopes of being able to spot a bush he could grab, to hold himself in place. About the time Louisa moved him completely off the tarp, matters came to a head. Despite the chickens and the weeds and the danger of witnesses, he felt a sharp pleasure. Louisa apparently did too, soon afterward, for she wiggled even more vigorously and grunted loudly.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
Fortunately the pigs weren’t very determined. They soon stopped, but Memphis couldn’t be slowed until he had run himself out. After that he was worthless for the rest of the day. In the afternoon, stopping to drink at a little creek, he bogged to his knees. Roscoe had to get off and whip him on the butt five or six times with a lariat rope before he managed to lunge out of the mud, by which time Roscoe himself was covered with it. He also lost one boot, sucked so far down in the mud he could barely reach it. He hadn’t brought an extra pair of boots, mainly because he didn’t own one, and was forced to waste most of the afternoon trying to clean the mud off the ones he had.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“If you get any prettier you won’t be safe around me,” Augustus said. “I might be forced to cut the cards with you again.” “No, I told you we’re gonna play a hand next time,” Lorena said. “It’ll give me a better chance.” “You look out for yourself,” Augustus said. “If that scamp runs off and leaves you, why, come and get me. You can find us by the dust.” “He won’t leave,” Lorena said. “He’ll be fine.” She watched Gus swim the muddy river. He waved from the other bank and soon disappeared into the brush. She went on packing. Soon Jake couldn’t stand it and walked over.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
The only cowboy who had not performed up to caliber in the emergency was Sean O’Brien, who had been walking out to catch his night horse when the storm hit. He was such a poor roper that Newt usually roped his horses for him, if he happened to be around. This time, of course, he hadn’t been. The Spettles, responsible for the remuda, were afraid Sean’s awkward roping would cause the whole herd to bolt; Bill Spettle had roped a horse for him, but it wasn’t one he could ride. Sean had promptly been bucked off, and when the remuda did bolt, Sean’s horse ran with it. Sean had been forced to ride in the wagon all night, more worried for his life than his reputation. Bolivar had made it clear that he didn’t like passengers.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
In less than half an hour it seemed that every single person in Fort Smith found out that July Johnson’s wife had run off on a whiskey barge. It seemed the Johnson family provided almost all the excitement in the town, the last excitement having been Benny’s death. Such a stream of people came up to question Roscoe about the disappearance that he was forced to give up all thought of whittling, just at a time when having a stick to whittle on might have settled his nerves.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“I been alone before, July,” she said. “It ain’t gonna hurt me. Roscoe can help if I need something I can’t carry.” That was true, of course—not that Roscoe would be particularly obliging about it. Roscoe claimed to have a bad back and would complain for days if forced to do anything resembling manual labor.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
Lately more and more cowboys passed through the town. Once the wild men of Shanghai Pierce had come through, nearly destroying two saloons. They were not bad men, just rowdy and wild to see a town. They tended to scare people’s livestock and rope their pets, and were intolerant of any efforts to curb their play. They were not gunmen, but they could box—July had been forced to crack one or two of them on the jaw and keep them in jail overnight.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
This willingness to work on the ground was indispensable, for most cowboys would rather eat poison than be forced to dismount. They all fancied themselves ropers, and swelled like toads if asked to do work they considered beneath their dignity.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“I wouldn’t,” Wilbarger said. He rode over to the gate, leaned over to open it, and rode out, leaving the gate for Chick toclose. When Chick tried to lean down and shut the gate his hat fell off. Nobody walked over to pick it up for him, either—he was forced to dismount, which embarrassed him greatly. Wilbarger waited, but he looked impatient.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“I didn’t see it,” Augustus said. “I think he may have swallowed a hunk of barbed wire.” Dish meanwhile heard a new voice above him and turned his head enough to see that the Captain had joined the group of spectators. It was an eventuality he had been dreading, even in his sickness. He had no memory of what had happened in the Dry Bean, except that he had sung a lot of songs, but even in the depths of his drunkenness he had realized he would have to answer for it all to Captain Call. At some point he had lost sight of Lorena, forgot he was in love with her and even forgot she was sitting across the room with Jake, but he never quite forgot that he was supposed to ride that night with Captain Call. In his mind’s eye he had seen them riding, even as he drank and sang, and now the Captain had come, and it was time to begin the ride. Dish didn’t know if he had the strength to stand up, much less mount a horse, much less stay aboard one and round up livestock, but he knew his reputation was at stake and that if he didn’t give it a try he would be disgraced forever. His stomach had not quite quit heaving, but he managed to take a deep breath and get to his feet. He made a pretense of walking up the bank as if nothing was wrong, but his legs had no life in them and he was forced to drop to his knees and crawl up, which only added embarrassment to his misery, the bank being scarcely three feet high and little more than a slope.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
Xavier Wanz, the little Frenchman who owned the place, was nervously wiping his tables with a wet rag. Xavier seemed to think keeping the tables well wiped was the crucial factor in his business, though Augustus was often forced to point out to him that such a view was nonsense. Most of the patrons of the Dry Bean were so lacking in fastidiousness that they wouldn’t have noticed a dead skunk on the tables, much less a few crumbs and spilled drinks.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
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