The Rainbow-虹(英文版)-第28部分

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her　any　more。　Why　could　he　not　tell　her　any　more？　She　felt　a
pang　of　disconsolate　sadness。　But　it　was　nothing。　She　went　to
him。

Her　father　came；　and　found　them　both　very　glowing；　like　an
open　flower。　He　loved　to　sit　with　them。　Where　there　was　a
perfume　of　love；　anyone　who　came　must　breathe　it。　They　were　both
very　quick　and　alive；　lit　up　from　the　other…world；　so　that　it
was　quite　an　experience　for　them；　that　anyone　else　could
exist。

But　still　it　troubled　Will　Brangwen　a　little；　in　his　orderly；
conventional　mind；　that　the　established　rule　of　things　had　gone
so　utterly。　One　ought　to　get　up　in　the　morning　and　wash　oneself
and　be　a　decent　social　being。　Instead；　the　two　of　them　stayed　in
bed　till　nightfall；　and　then　got　up；　she　never　washed　her　face；
but　sat　there　talking　to　her　father　as　bright　and　shameless　as　a
daisy　opened　out　of　the　dew。　Or　she　got　up　at　ten　o'clock；　and
quite　blithely　went　to　bed　again　at　three；　or　at　half…past　four；
stripping　him　naked　in　the　daylight；　and　all　so　gladly　and
perfectly；　oblivious　quite　of　his　qualms。　He　let　her　do　as　she
liked　with　him；　and　shone　with　strange　pleasure。　She　was　to
dispose　of　him　as　she　would。　He　was　translated　with　gladness　to
be　in　her　hands。　And　dos；　his
rules；　his　smaller　beliefs；　she　scattered　them　like　an　expert
skittle…player。　He　was　very　much　astonished　and　delighted　to　see
them　scatter。

He　stood　and　gazed　and　grinned　with　wonder　whilst　his　Tablets
of　Stone　went　bounding　and　bumping　and　splintering　down　the
hill；　dislodged　for　ever。　Indeed；　it　was　true　as　they　said；　that
a　man　wasn't　born　before　he　was　married。　What　a　change
indeed！

He　surveyed　the　rind　of　the　world：　houses；　factories；　trams；
the　discarded　rind；　people　scurrying　about；　work　going　on；　all
on　the　discarded　surface。　An　earthquake　had　burst　it　all　from
inside。　It　was　as　if　the　surface　of　the　world　had　been　broken
away　entire：　Ilkeston；　streets；　church；　people；　work；
rule…of…the…day；　all　intact；　and　yet　peeled　away　into　unreality；
leaving　here　exposed　the　inside；　the　reality：　one's　own　being；
strange　feelings　and　passions　and　yearnings　and　beliefs　and
aspirations；　suddenly　bee　present；　revealed；　the　permanent
bedrock；　knitted　one　rock　with　the　woman　one　loved。　It　was
confounding。　Things　are　not　what　they　seem！　When　he　was　a　child；
he　had　thought　a　woman　was　a　woman　merely　by　virtue　of　her
skirts　and　petticoats。　And　now；　lo；　the　whole　world　could　be
divested　of　its　garment；　the　garment　could　lie　there　shed　away
intact；　and　one　could　stand　in　a　new　world；　a　new　earth；　naked
in　a　new；　naked　universe。　It　was　too　astounding　and
miraculous。

This　then　was　marriage！　The　old　things　didn't　matter　any
more。　One　got　up　at　four　o'clock；　and　had　broth　at　tea…time　and
made　toffee　in　the　middle　of　the　night。　One　didn't　put　on　one's
clothes　or　one　did　put　on　one's　clothes。　He　still　was　not　quite
sure　it　was　not　criminal。　But　it　was　a　discovery　to　find　one
might　be　so　supremely　absolved。　All　that　mattered　was　that　he
should　love　her　and　she　should　love　him　and　they　should　live
kindled　to　one　another；　like　the　Lord　in　two　burning　bushes　that
were　not　consumed。　And　so　they　lived　for　the　time。

She　was　less　hampered　than　he；　so　she　came　more　quickly　to
her　fulness；　and　was　sooner　ready　to　enjoy　again　a　return　to　the
outside　world。　She　was　going　to　give　a　tea…party。　His　heart
sank。　He　wanted　to　go　on；　to　go　on　as　they　were。　He　wanted　to
have　done　with　the　outside　world；　to　declare　it　finished　for
ever。　He　was　anxious　with　a　deep　desire　and　anxiety　that　she
should　stay　with　him　where　they　were　in　the　timeless　universe　of
free；　perfect　limbs　and　immortal　breast；　affirming　that　the　old
outward　order　was　finished。　The　new　order　was　begun　to　last　for
ever；　the　living　life；　palpitating　from　the　gleaming　core；　to
action；　without　crust　or　cover　or　outward　lie。　But　no；　he　could
not　keep　her。　She　wanted　the　dead　world　again…she　wanted　to　walk
on　the　outside　once　more。　She　was　going　to　give　a　tea…party。　It
made　him　frightened　and　furious　and　miserable。　He　was　afraid　all
would　be　lost　that　he　had　so　newly　e　into：　like　the　youth　in
the　fairy　tale；　who　was　king　for　one　day　in　the　year；　and　for
the　rest　a　beaten　herd：　like　Cinderella　also；　at　the　feast。　He
was　sullen。　But　she　blithely　began　to　make　preparations　for　her
tea…party。　His　fear　was　too　strong；　he　was　troubled；　he　hated
her　shallow　anticipation　and　joy。　Was　she　not　forfeiting　the
reality；　the　one　reality；　for　all　that　was　shallow　and
worthless？　Wasn't　she　carelessly　taking　off　her　crown　to　be　an
artificial　figure　having　other　artificial　women　to　tea：　when　she
might　have　been　perfect　with　him；　and　kept　him　perfect；　in　the
land　of　intimate　connection？　Now　he　must　be　deposed；　his　joy
must　be　destroyed；　he　must　put　on　the　vulgar；　shallow　death　of
an　outward　existence。

He　ground　his　soul　in　uneasiness　and　fear。　But　she　rose　to　a
real　outburst　of　house…work；　turning　him　away　as　she　shoved　the
furniture　aside　to　her　broom。　He　stood　hanging　miserable　near。
He　wanted　her　back。　Dread；　and　desire　for　her　to　stay　with　him；
and　shame　at　his　own　dependence　on　her　drove　him　to　anger。　He
began　to　lose　his　head。　The　wonder　was　going　to　pass　away　again。
All　the　love；　the　magnificent　new　order　was　going　to　be　lost；
she　would　forfeit　it　all　for　the　outside　things。　She　would　admit
the　outside　world　again；　she　would　throw　away　the　living　fruit
for　the　ostensible　rind。　He　began　to　hate　this　in　her。　Driven　by
fear　of　her　departure　into　a　state　of　helplessness；　almost　of
imbecility；　he　wandered　about　the　house。

And　she；　with　her　skirts　kilted　up；　flew　round　at　her　work；
absorbed。

〃Shake　the　rug　then；　if　you　must　hang　round；〃　she　said。

And　fretting　with　resentment；　he　went　to　shake　the　rug。　She
was　blithely　unconscious　of　him。　He　came　back；　hanging　near　to
her。

〃Can't　you　do　anything？〃　she　said；　as　if　to　a　child；
impatiently。　〃Can't　you　do　your　wood…work？〃

〃Where　shall　I　do　it？〃　he　asked；　harsh　with　pain。

〃Anywhere。〃

How　furious　that　made　him。

〃Or　go　for　a　walk；〃　she　continued。　〃Go　down　to　the　Marsh。
Don't　hang　about　as　if　you　were　only　half　there。〃

He　winced　and　hated　it。　He　went　away　to　read。　Never　had　his
soul　felt　so　flayed　and　uncreated。

And　soon　he　must　e　down　again　to　her。　His　hovering　near
her；　wanting　her　to　be　with　him；　the　futility　of　him；　the　way
his　hands　hung；　irritated　her　beyond　bearing。　She　turned　on　him
blindly　and　destructively；　he　became　a　mad　creature；　black　and
electric　with　fury。　The　dark　storms　rose　in　him；　his　eyes　glowed
black　and　evil；　he　was　fiendish　in　his　thwarted　soul。

There　followed　two　black　and　ghastly　days；　when　she　was　set
in　anguish　against　him；　and　he　felt　as　if　he　were　in　a　black；
violent　underworld；　and　his　urderously。　And　she
resisted　him。　He　seemed　a　dark；　almost　evil　thing；　pursuing　her；
hanging　on　to　her；　burdening　her。　She　would　give　anything　to
have　him　removed。

〃You　need　some　work　to　do；〃　she　said。　〃You　ought　to　be　at
work。　Can't　you　do　something？〃

His　soul　only　grew　the　blacker。　His　condition　now　became
plete；　the　darkness　of　his　soul　was　thorough。　Everything　had
gone：　he　remained　plete　in　his　own　tense；　black　will。　He　was
now　unaware　of　her。　She　did　not　exist。　His　dark；　passionate　soul
had　recoiled　upon　itself；　and　now；　clinched　and　coiled　round　a
centre　of　hatred；　existed　in　its　own　power。　There　was　a
curiously　ugly　pallor；　an　expressionlessness　in　his　face。　She
shuddered　from　him。　She　was　afraid　of　him。　His　will　seemed
grappled　upon　her。

She　retreated　before　him。　She　went　down　to　the　Marsh；　she
entered　again　the　immunity　of　her　parents'　love　for　her。　He
remained　at　Yew　Cottage；　black　and　clinched；　his　mind　dead。　He
was　unable　to　work　at　his　wood…carving。　He　went　on　working
monotonously　at　the　garden；　blindly；　like　a　mole。

As　she　came　home；　up　the　hill；　looking　away　at　the　town　dim
and　blue　on　the　hill；　her　heart　relaxed　and　became　yearning。　She
did　not　want　to　fight　him　any　more。　She　wanted　love……oh；
love。　Her　feet　began　to　hurry。　She　wanted　to　get　back　to　him。
Her　heart　became　tight　with　yearning　for　him。

He　had　been　making　the　garden　in　order；　cutting　the　edges　of
the　turf；　laying　the　path　with　stones。　He　was　a　good；　capable
workman。

〃How　nice　you've　made　it；〃　she　said；　approaching　tentatively
down　the　path。

But　he　did　not　heed；　he　did　not　hear。　His　brain　was　solid　and
dead。

〃Haven't　you　made　it　nice？〃　she　repeated；　rather
plaintively。

He　looked　up　at　her；　with　that　fixed；　expressionless　face　and
unseeing　eyes　which　shocked　her；　made　her　go　dazed　and　blind。
Then　he　turned　away。　She　saw　his　slender；　stooping　figure
groping。　A　revulsion　came　over　her。　She　went　indoors。

As　she　took　off　her　hat　in　the　bedroom；　she　found　herself
weeping　bitterly；　with　some　of　the　old；　anguished；　childish
desolation。　She　sat　still　and　cried　on。　She　did　not　want　him　to
know。　She　was　afraid　of　his　hard；　evil　moments；　the　head　dropped
a　little；　rigidly；　in　a　crouching；　cruel　way。　She　was　afraid　of
him。　He　seemed　to　lacerate　her　sensitive　femaleness。　He　seemed
to　hurt　her　womb；　to　take　pleasure　in　torturing　her。

He　came　into　the　house。　The　sound　of　his　footsteps　in　his
heavy　boots　filled　her　with　horror：　a　hard；　cruel；　malignant
sound。　She　was　afraid　he　would　e　upstairs。　But　he　did　not。
She　waited　apprehensively。　He　went　out。

Where　she　was　most　vulnerable；　he　hurt　her。　Oh；　where　she　was
delivered　over　to　him；　in　her　very　soft　femaleness；　he　seemed　to
lacerate　her　and　desecrate　her。　She　pressed　her　hands　over　her
womb　in　anguish；　whilst　the　tears　ran　down　her　face。　And　why；
and　why？　Why　was　he　like　this？

Suddenly　she　dried　her　tears。　She　must　get　the　tea　ready。　She
went　downstairs　and　set　the　table。　When　the　meal　was　ready；　she
called　to　him。

〃I've　mashed　the　tea；　Will；　are　you　ing？〃

She　herself　could　hear　the　sound　of　tears　in　her　own　voice；
and　she　began　to　cry　again。　He　did　not　answer；　but　went　on　with
his　work。　She　waited　a　few　minutes；　in　anguish。　Fear　came　over
her；　she　was　panic…stricken　with　terror；　like　a　child；　and　she
could　not　go　home　again　to　her　father；　she　was　held　by　the　power
in　this　man　who　had　taken　her。

She　turned　indoors　so　that　he　should　not　see　her　tears。　She
sat　down　to　table。　Presently　he　came　into　the　scullery。　His
movements　jarred　on　her；　as　she　heard　them。　How　horrible　was　the
way　he　pumped；　exacerbating；　so　cruel！　How　she　hated　to　hear
him！　How　he　hated　her！　How　his　hatred　was　like　blows　upon　her！
The　tears　were　ing　again。

He　came　in；　his　face　wooden　and　lifeless；　fixed；　persistent。
He　sat　down　to　tea；　his　head　dropped　over　his　cup；　uglily。　His
hands　were　red　from　the　cold　water；　and　there　were　rims　of　earth
in　his　nails。　He　went　on　with　his　tea。

It　was　his　negative　insensitiveness　to　her　that　she　could　not
bear；　something　clayey　and　ugly。　His　intelligence　was
self…absorbed。　How　unnatural　it　was　to　sit　with　a　self…absorbed
creature；　like　something　negative　ensconced　opposite　one。
Nothing　could　touch　him……he　could　only　absorb　things　into
his　own　self。

The　tears　were　running　down　her　face。　Something　startled　him；
and　he　was　looking　up　at　her　with　his　hateful；　hard；　bright
eyes；　hard　and　unchanging　as　a　bird　of　pr