The Rainbow-虹(英文版)-第19部分

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inwardly　the　coarsely　working　nature　of　the　mistress。　Therefore
she　was　always　at　outs　with　authority。　From　constant　telling；
she　came　almost　to　believe　in　her　own　badness；　her　own　intrinsic
inferiority。　She　felt　that　she　ought　always　to　be　in　a　state　of
slinking　disgrace；　if　she　fulfilled　what　was　expected　of　her。
But　she　rebelled。　She　never　really　believed　in　her　own　badness。
At　the　bottom　of　her　heart　she　despised　the　other　people；　who
carped　and　were　loud　over　trifles。　She　despised　them；　and　wanted
revenge　on　them。　She　hated　them　whilst　they　had　power　over
her。

Still　she　kept　an　ideal：　a　free；　proud　lady　absolved　from　the
petty　ties；　existing　beyond　petty　considerations。　She　would　see
such　ladies　in　pictures：　Alexandra；　Princess　of　Wales；　was　one
of　her　models。　This　lady　was　proud　and　royal；　and　stepped
indifferently　over　all　small；　mean　desires：　so　thought　Anna；　in
her　heart。　And　the　girl　did　up　her　hair　high　under　a　little
slanting　hat；　her　skirts　were　fashionably　bunched　up；　she　wore
an　elegant；　skin…fitting　coat。

Her　father　was　delighted。　Anna　was　very　proud　in　her　bearing；
too　naturally　indifferent　to　smaller　bonds　to　satisfy　Ilkeston；
which　would　have　liked　to　put　her　down。　But　Brangwen　was　having
no　such　thing。　If　she　chose　to　be　royal；　royal　she　should　be。　He
stood　like　a　rock　between　her　and　the　world。

After　the　fashion　of　his　family；　he　grew　stout　and　handsome。
His　blue　eyes　were　full　of　light；　twinkling　and　sensitive；　his
manner　was　deliberate；　but　hearty；　warm。　His　capacity　for　living
his　own　life　without　attention　from　his　neighbours　made　them
respect　him。　They　would　run　to　do　anything　for　him。　He　did　not
consider　them；　but　was　open…handed　towards　them；　so　they　made
profit　of　their　willingness。　He　liked　people；　so　long　as　they
remained　in　the　background。

Mrs。　Brangwen　went　on　in　her　own　way；　following　her　own
devices。　She　had　her　husband；　her　two　sons　and　Anna。　These
staked　out　and　marked　her　horizon。　The　other　people　were
outsiders。　Inside　her　own　world；　her　life　passed　along　like　a
dream　for　her；　it　lapsed；　and　she　lived　within　its　lapse；　active
and　always　pleased；　intent。　She　scarcely　noticed　the　outer
things　at　all。　What　was　outside　was　outside；　non…existent。　She
did　not　mind　if　the　boys　fought；　so　long　as　it　was　out　of　her
presence。　But　if　they　fought　when　she　was　by；　she　was　angry；　and
they　were　afraid　of　her。　She　did　not　care　if　they　broke　a　window
of　a　railway　carriage　or　sold　their　watches　to　have　a　revel　at
the　Goose　Fair。　Brangwen　was　perhaps　angry　over　these　things。　To
the　mother　they　were　insignificant。　It　was　odd　little　things
that　offended　her。　She　was　furious　if　the　boys　hung　around　the
slaughter…house；　she　was　displeased　when　the　school　reports　were
bad。　It　did　not　matter　how　many　sins　her　boys　were　accused　of；
so　long　as　they　were　not　stupid；　or　inferior。　If　they　seemed　to
brook　insult；　she　hated　them。　And　it　was　only　a　certain
gaucherie；　a　gawkiness　on　Anna's　part　that　irritated　her
against　the　girl。　Certain　forms　of　clumsiness；　grossness；　made
the　mother's　eyes　glow　with　curious　rage。　Otherwise　she　was
pleased；　indifferent。

Pursuing　her　splendid…lady　ideal；　Anna　became　a　lofty
demoiselle　of　sixteen；　plagued　by　family　shortings。　She　was
very　sensitive　to　her　father。　She　knew　if　he　had　been　drinking；
were　he　ever　so　little　affected；　and　she　could　not　bear　it。　He
flushed　when　he　drank；　the　veins　stood　out　on　his　temples；　there
was　a　twinkling；　cavalier　boisterousness　in　his　eye；　his　manner
was　jovially　overbearing　and　mocking。　And　it　angered　her。　When
she　heard　his　loud；　roaring；　boisterous　mockery；　an　anger　of
resentment　filled　her。　She　；　the
moment　he　came　in。

〃You　look　a　sight；　you　do；　red　in　the　face；〃　she　cried。

〃I　might　look　worse　if　I　was　green；〃　he　answered。

〃Boozing　in　Ilkeston。〃

〃And　what's　wrong　wi'　Il'son？〃

She　flounced　away。　He　watched　her　with　amused；　twinkling
eyes；　yet　in　spite　of　himself　said　that　she　flouted　him。

They　were　a　curious　family；　a　law　to　themselves；　separate
from　the　world；　isolated；　a　small　republic　set　in　invisible
bounds。　The　mother　was　quite　indifferent　to　Ilkeston　and
Cossethay；　to　any　claims　made　on　her　from　outside；　she　was　very
shy　of　any　outsider；　exceedingly　courteous；　winning　even。　But
the　moment　the　visitor　had　gone；　she　laughed　and　dismissed　him；
he　did　not　exist。　It　had　been　all　a　game　to　her。　She　was　still　a
foreigner；　unsure　of　her　ground。　But　alone　with　her　own　children
and　husband　at　the　Marsh；　she　was　mistress　of　a　little　native
land　that　lacked　nothing。

She　had　some　beliefs　somewhere；　never　defined。　She　had　been
brought　up　a　Roman　Catholic。　She　had　gone　to　the　Church　of
England　for　protection。　The　outward　form　was　a　matter　of
indifference　to　her。　Yet　she　had　some　fundamental　religion。　It
was　as　if　she　worshipped　God　as　a　mystery；　never　seeking　in　the
least　to　define　what　He　was。

And　inside　her；　the　subtle　sense　of　the　Great　Absolute
wherein　she　had　her　being　was　very　strong。　The　English　dogma
never　reached　her：　the　language　was　too　foreign。　Through　it　all
she　felt　the　great　Separator　who　held　life　in　His　hands；
gleaming；　imminent；　terrible；　the　Great　Mystery；　immediate
beyond　all　telling。

She　shone　and　gleamed　to　the　Mystery；　Whom　she　knew　through
all　her　senses；　she　glanced　with　strange；　mystic　superstitions
that　never　found　expression　in　the　English　language；　never
mounted　to　thought　in　English。　But　so　she　lived；　within　a
potent；　sensuous　belief　that　included　her　family　and　contained
her　destiny。

To　this　she　had　reduced　her　husband。　He　existed　with　her
entirely　indifferent　to　the　general　values　of　the　world。　Her
very　ways；　the　very　mark　of　her　eyebrows　were　symbols　and
indication　to　him。　There；　on　the　farm　with　her；　he　lived　through
a　mystery　of　life　and　death　and　creation；　strange；　profound
ecstasies　and　inmunicable　satisfactions；　of　which　the　rest　of
the　world　knew　nothing；　which　made　the　pair　of　them　apart　and
respected　in　the　English　village；　for　they　were　also
well…to…do。

But　Anna　was　only　half　safe　within　her　mother's　unthinking
knowledge。　She　had　a　mother…of…pearl　rosary　that　had　been　her
own　father's。　What　it　meant　to　her　she　could　never　say。　But　the
string　of　moonlight　and　silver；　when　she　had　it　between　her
fingers；　filled　her　with　strange　passion。　She　learned　at　school
a　little　Latin；　she　learned　an　Ave　Maria　and　a　Pater　Noster；　she
learned　how　to　say　her　rosary。　But　that　was　no　good。　〃Ave　Maria；
gratia　plena；　Dominus　tecum；　Benedicta　tu　in　mulieribus　et
benedictus　fructus　ventris　tui　Jesus。　Ave　Maria；　Sancta　Maria；
ora　pro　nobis　peccatoribus；　nunc　et　in　hora　mortis　nostrae；
Amen。〃

It　was　not　right；　somehow。　What　these　words　meant　when
translated　was　not　the　same　as　the　pale　rosary　meant。　There　was
a　discrepancy；　a　falsehood。　It　irritated　her　to　say；　〃Dominus
tecum；〃　or；　〃benedicta　tu　in　mulieribus。〃　She　loved　the　mystic
words；　〃Ave　Maria；　Sancta　Maria；〃　she　was　moved　by　〃benedictus
fructus　ventris　tui　Jesus；〃　and　by　〃nunc　et　in　hora　mortis
nostrae。〃　But　none　of　it　was　quite　real。　It　was　not
satisfactory；　somehow。

She　avoided　her　rosary；　because；　moving　her　with　curious
passion　as　it　did；　it　meant　only　these　not　very
significant　things。　She　put　it　away。　It　was　her　instinct　to　put
all　these　things　away。　It　was　her　instinct　to　avoid　thinking；　to
avoid　it；　to　save　herself。

She　was　seventeen；　touchy；　full　of　spirits；　and　very　moody：
quick　to　flush；　and　always　uneasy；　uncertain。　For　some　reason　or
other；　she　turned　more　to　her　father；　she　felt　almost　flashes　of
hatred　for　her　mother。　Her　mother's　dark　muzzle　and　curiously
insidious　ways；　her　mother's　utter　surety　and　confidence；　her
strange　satisfaction；　even　triumph；　her　mother's　way　of　laughing
at　things　and　her　mother's　silent　overriding　of　vexatious
propositions；　most　of　all　her　mother's　triumphant　power　maddened
the　girl。

She　became　sudden　and　incalculable。　Often　she　stood　at　the
window；　looking　out；　as　if　she　wanted　to　go。　Sometimes　she　went；
she　mixed　with　people。　But　always　she　came　home　in　anger；　as　if
she　were　diminished；　belittled；　almost　degraded。

There　was　over　the　house　a　kind　of　dark　silence　and
intensity；　in　which　passion　worked　its　inevitable　conclusions。
There　was　in　the　house　a　sort　of　richness；　a　deep；　inarticulate
interchange　which　made　other　places　seem　thin　and　unsatisfying。
Brangwen　could　sit　silent；　smoking　in　his　chair；　the　mother
could　move　about　in　her　quiet；　insidious　way；　and　the　sense　of
the　two　presences　was　powerful；　sustaining。　The　whole
intercourse　was　wordless；　intense　and　close。

But　Anna　was　uneasy。　She　wanted　to　get　away。　Yet　wherever　she
went；　there　came　upon　her　that　feeling　of　thinness；　as　if　she
were　made　smaller；　belittled。　She　hastened　home。

There　she　raged　and　interrupted　the　strong；　settled
interchange。　Sometimes　her　mother　turned　on　her　with　a　fierce；
destructive　anger；　in　which　was　no　pity　or　consideration。　And
Anna　shrank；　afraid。　She　went　to　her　father。

He　would　still　listen　to　the　spoken　word；　which　fell　sterile
on　the　unheeding　mother。　Sometimes　Anna　talked　to　her　father。
She　tried　to　discuss　people；　she　wanted　to　know　what　was　meant。
But　her　father　became　uneasy。　He　did　not　want　to　have　things
dragged　into　consciousness。　Only　out　of　consideration　for　her　he
listened。　And　there　was　a　kind　of　bristling　rousedness　in　the
room。　The　cat　got　up　and　stretching　itself；　went　uneasily　to　the
door。　Mrs。　Brangwen　was　silent；　she　seemed　ominous。　Anna　could
not　go　on　with　her　fault…finding；　her　criticism；　her　expression
of　dissatisfactions。　She　felt　even　her　father　against　her。　He
had　a　strong；　dark　bond　with　her　mother；　a　potent　intimacy　that
existed　inarticulate　and　wild；　following　its　own　course；　and
savage　if　interrupted；　uncovered。

Nevertheless　Brangwen　was　uneasy　about　the　girl；　the　whole
house　continued　to　be　disturbed。　She　had　a　pathetic；　baffled
appeal。　She　was　hostile　to　her　parents；　even　whilst　she　lived
entirely　with　them；　within　their　spell。

Many　ways　she　tried；　of　escape。　She　became　an　assiduous
church…goer。　But　the　language　meant　nothing　to　her：　it
seemed　false。　She　hated　to　hear　things　expressed；　put　into
words。　Whilst　the　religious　feelings　were　inside　her　they　were
passionately　moving。　In　the　mouth　of　the　clergyman；　they　were
false；　indecent。　She　tried　to　read。　But　again　the　tedium　and　the
sense　of　the　falsity　of　the　spoken　word　put　her　off。　She　went　to
stay　with　girl　friends。　At　first　she　thought　it　splendid。　But
then　the　inner　boredom　came　on；　it　seemed　to　her　all
nothingness。　And　she　felt　always　belittled；　as　if　never；　never
could　she　stretch　her　length　and　stride　her　stride。

Her　mind　reverted　often　to　the　torture　cell　of　a　certain
Bishop　of　France；　in　which　the　victim　could　neither　stand　nor
lie　stretched　out；　never。　Not　that　she　thought　of　herself　in　any
connection　with　this。　But　often　there　came　into　her　mind　the
wonder；　how　the　cell　was　built；　and　she　could　feel　the　horror　of
the　crampedness；　as　something　very　real。

She　was；　however；　only　eighteen　when　a　letter　came　from　Mrs。
Alfred　Brangwen；　in　Nottingham；　saying　that　her　son　William　was
ing　to　Ilkeston　to　take　a　place　as　junior　draughtsman；
scar