词汇：lay

vt. 搁放；躺下；产卵

相关场景

“Can’t you take that lance out?” Call asked. He didn’t know what to do with the baby, and there Deets lay dying.
>> 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
“The Yellowstone already?” Dish Boggett said. It was the last river—or at least the last river anyone knew much about. At mention of it the whole camp fell silent, looking at the mountains.THEY RESTED ON the Salt for two days, giving the animals and men plenty of time to recover. The men spent much of their time speculating about what lay on beyond the mountains, and how long it would take to get there.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
To Call’s great relief, the storm blew itself out in three hours. The wind gradually died and the sand lay under their feetagain instead of peppering them. The moon was soon visible, and the sky filled with bright stars. It would not be possible to judge how many cattle had strayed until the morning, but at least the main herd was still under their control.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
Clara and Augustus sat for an hour in the room where Bob lay. Augustus found it difficult to get used to the fact that the man’s eyes were open. Clara had ceased to care, or even notice.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“That’s the whole trouble with women,” Call said, as if to himself. “They do things that don’t make sense. She wouldn’t give a nickel on the rest of them horses. Most horse traders would have taken off a dollar just to help the deal.”AFTER CALL AND NEWT LEFT with the horses, Clara lit a lantern and took Augustus up to the room where her husband lay.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
She walked over to the bed and lay back on the cornshuck mattress, which crackled in protest. “Come on, try it,” she said.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
Dixon lay by the anvil. He had not moved.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
It was the squeal that caught Call’s attention. After loading the heavy oak water barrel, he and Augustus had stepped back into the store a minute. Augustus was contemplating buying a lighter pistol to replace the big Colt he carried, but he decided against it. He carried out some of the things he had bought for Lorena, and Call took a sack of flour. They heard the horse squeal while they were still in the store, and came out to see Dixon quirting Newt, as Dish Boggett’s mare turned round and round. Two cowboys lay on the ground, one of them Dish.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“Come help me shuck this corn,” Clara said. “The roasting ears are about gone. I get so hungry for them during the winter, I could eat a dozen.”She went on toward the house, carrying her heavy garden basket. When she didn’t hear his footsteps, she looked back at him. July wiped his face and followed her to the house.THE NEXT MORNING, when he managed to get up, July came into the kitchen to find Cholo sharpening a thin-bladed knife. The baby lay on the table, kicking his bare feet, and Clara, wearing a man’s hat, was giving the two girls instructions.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“Only unhappy,” Patrick Arandel said. He felt sorry for the young man. Five idle young whores were listening to the conversation, while one of their friends lay in labor in the next room.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
Now she didn’t care. The sickness had changed her—that and the death of Dee. She had lost the fear. A few miles from town they stopped and camped. She lay awake in the wagon much of the night. Zwey slept on the ground, snoring, his rifle held tightly in his big hands. She wasn’t sleepy, but she wasn’t afraid, either. It was cloudy, and the plains were very dark. Anything could come out of the darkness—Indians, bandits, snakes. The doctor had claimed there were panthers.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“Hang ’em?” “Yes, hung them all, including Jake Spoon.” “Well, I’ll swear,” Dish said, shocked. “I didn’t like the man but I never figured him for a killer.” “He wasn’t a killer,” Augustus said. “Jake liked a joke and didn’t like to work. I’ve got exactly the same failings. It’s lucky I ain’t been hung.” He pulled the saddle off his tired horse. The horse lay down and had a good roll, scratching its sweaty back.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
There was no shade on the bluff. He covered his face with his hat and lay back against his saddle, sweating, and ashamed of his own carelessness. He grew delirious and in his delirium would have long talks with Roscoe. He could see Roscoe’s face as plain as day. Roscoe didn’t seem to blame him for the fact that he was dead. If he himself was soon going to be dead, too, it might not matter so much. July didn’t die. His leg felt terrible, though. In the night came a rainstorm and he could do nothing but huddle under his saddle blanket. His teeth began to chatter and he couldn’t stop them. He almost wished he could go on and die, it was so uncomfortable. But in the morning the sun was hot, he soon dried out. He felt weak, but he didn’t feel as if he were dying. Mainly he had to avoid looking at his leg. It looked so bad he didn’t know what to think. If a doctor saw it he could probably just cut it off and be done with it. When he tried to bend it even a little, a terrible pain shot through him—yet he had to get down to the river or else die of thirst, even though it had just rained.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
Yet there he was, his eyes staring upward, as helpless as the baby. She put the child down again and fed Bob soup until her wrist got tired from holding his head. Then she lay Bob’s head back on his pillow, and ate the rest of the chicken soup herself.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
She looked down at Bob and saw that the baby had made no difference. He lay as he had, nothing left to him but need.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
When night fell she went in and lit a lamp in the room where Elmira lay. Clara, seeing that her eyes were open, started to take the baby to her. But once again Elmira turned her head away.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“Goodness, you best lay down,” Clara said. “You’ve lost blood—we’ve got to build you up.” Elmira obeyed passively. She allowed Clara to feed her a few spoonfuls of the soup.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
“My goodness, that is a ways,” Clara said. “I lived in Texas once.” Then she turned and saw that the woman was sitting on the ground. Before Clara could reach her she had toppled sideways and lay face up on the trail that led from the house to the barn.
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
In the mornings she lay wrapped in a quilt until the smell of Cholo’s coffee waked her. She had fallen into the habit of letting Cholo make the coffee, mainly because he was better at it than she was. She would lie in her quilt, watching the mists float over the Platte, until one or both of the girls tiptoed out. They always tiptoed, as if they might wake their father, though his eyes were as wide open as ever.
>> 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
Often she lay awake, listening, half expecting Bob to come back to himself and call her. More often what happened was that he fouled himself; and instead of hearing him she would smell him. Even so, she was glad it happened at night so she could change him without the girls seeing.
她经常醒着躺着，听着，一半期待鲍勃会回来给她打电话。更常见的情况是，他犯规了；而不是听到他，她会闻到他的味道。即便如此，她还是很高兴这件事发生在晚上，这样她就可以在女孩们看不见的情况下改变他。
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
Now Bob lay in that bed all day, staring his empty stare. They had moved the bed near the window so that he would get the summer breezes and could look out if he liked and watch his horses grazing on the plain, or the hawks circling, or whatever little sights there might be. But Bob never turned his head, and no one knew if he felt the breezes. Clara had taken to sleeping on a little cot. The house had a small upper porch and she moved the cot out there in good weather.
现在鲍勃整天躺在床上，茫然地盯着他。他们把床移到窗户附近，这样他就可以享受夏日的微风，如果他喜欢的话，可以向外看，看他的马在平原上吃草，或者鹰在盘旋，或者任何可能的小风景。但鲍勃从来没有转过头来，没有人知道他是否感觉到了微风。克拉拉已经习惯睡在小床上了。房子有一个小的上门廊，天气好的时候，她把小床搬到了外面。
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇
Clara had lived, and stayed, though she had a look in her gray eyes that frightened Bob every time he saw it. He didn’t really know what the look meant, but to him it meant she might leave if he didn’t watch out. When they first came to Nebraska, he had had the drinking habit. Ogallala was hardly even a town then; there were few neighbors, and almost no socials. The Indians were a dire threat, though Clara didn’t seem to fear them. If they had company, it was usually soldiers—the soldiers drank, and so did he. Clara didn’t like it. One night he got pretty drunk, and when he got up in the morning she had that look in her eye. She made him breakfast, but then she looked at him coldly and lay down a threat. “I want you to stop drinking,” she said. “You’ve been drunk three times this week. I won’t live here and get dirt in my hair for the love of a drunkard.” It was the only threat she ever had to make. Bob spent the day worrying, looking at the bleak plains and wondering what he would do in such a place without her. He never touched whiskey again. The jug he had been working on sat in the cupboard for years, until Clara finally mixed it with sorghum molasses and used it for cough medicine.
克拉拉活了下来，也留了下来，尽管她灰色的眼睛里有一种眼神，每次鲍勃看到它都会害怕。他真的不知道这种眼神是什么意思，但对他来说，这意味着如果他不小心，她可能会离开。当他们第一次来到内布拉斯加州时，他有喝酒的习惯。那时奥加拉拉甚至还不是一个小镇；邻居很少，几乎没有社交活动。印第安人是一个可怕的威胁，尽管克拉拉似乎并不害怕他们。如果他们有同伴，通常是士兵——士兵们喝酒，他也是。克拉拉不喜欢这样。一天晚上，他喝得酩酊大醉，当他早上起床时，她的眼睛里有那种表情。她给他做了早餐，但随后她冷冷地看着他，发出了威胁。“我希望你停止饮酒，”她说。“你这周喝醉了三次。我不会为了一个醉汉的爱而住在这里，头发上沾满污垢。”这是她唯一一次威胁。鲍勃整天都在担心，看着荒凉的平原，想知道如果没有她，他会在这样的地方做什么。他再也没碰过威士忌。他一直在做的罐子在橱柜里放了好几年，直到克拉拉终于把它和高粱糖蜜混合在一起，用来治咳嗽。
>> Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇