The Rainbow-虹(英文版)-第36部分

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nursling。　He　went　about　very　quiet；　and　in　a　way；　submissive。　He
had　an　unalterable　self　at　last；　free；　separate；
independent。

She　was　relieved；　she　was　free　of　him。　She　had　given　him　to
himself。　She　wept　sometimes　with　tiredness　and　helplessness。　But
he　was　a　husband。　And　she　seemed；　in　the　child　that　was　ing；
to　forget。　It　seemed　to　make　her　warm　and　drowsy。　She　lapsed
into　a　long　muse；　indistinct；　warm；　vague；　unwilling　to　be　taken
out　of　her　vagueness。　And　she　rested　on　him　also。

Sometimes　she　came　to　him　with　a　strange　light　in　her　eyes；
poignant；　pathetic；　as　if　she　were　asking　for　something。　He
looked　and　he　could　not　understand。　She　was　so　beautiful；　so
visionary；　the　rays　seemed　to　go　out　of　his　breast　to　her；　like
a　shining。　He　was　there　for　her；　all　for　her。　And　she　would　hold
his　breast；　and　kiss　it；　and　kiss　it；　kneeling　beside　him；　she
who　was　waiting　for　the　hour　of　her　delivery。　And　he　would　lie
looking　down　at　his　breast；　till　it　seemed　that　his　breast　was
not　himself；　that　he　had　left　it　lying　there。　Yet　it　was　himself
also；　and　beautiful　and　bright　with　her　kisses。　He　was　glad　with
a　strange；　radiant　pain。　Whilst　she　kneeled　beside　him；　and
kissed　his　breast　with　a　slow；　rapt；　half…devotional
movement。

He　knew　she　wanted　something；　his　heart　yearned　to　give　it
her。　His　heart　yearned　over　her。　And　as　she　lifted　her　face；
that　was　radiant　and　rosy　as　a　little　cloud；　his　heart　still
yearned　over　her；　and；　now　from　the　distance；　adored　her。　She
had　a　flower…like　presence　which　he　adored　as　he　stood　far　off；
a　stranger。

The　weeks　passed　on；　the　time　drew　near；　they　were　very
gentle；　and　delicately　happy。　The　insistent；　passionate；　dark
soul；　the　powerful　unsatisfaction　in　him　seemed　stilled　and
tamed；　the　lion　lay　down　with　the　lamb　in　him。

She　loved　him　very　much　indeed；　and　he　waited　near　her。　She
was　a　precious；　remote　thing　to　him　at　this　time；　as　she　waited
for　her　child。　Her　soul　was　glad　with　an　ecstasy　because　of　the
ing　infant。　She　wanted　a　boy：　oh；　very　much　she　wanted　a
boy。

But　she　seemed　so　young　and　so　frail。　She　was　indeed　only　a
girl。　As　she　stood　by　the　fire　washing　herself……she　was
proud　to　wash　herself　at　this　time……and　he　looked　at　her；
his　heart　was　full　of　extreme　tenderness　for　her。　Such　fine；
fine　limbs；　her　slim；　round　arms　like　chasing　lights；　and　her
legs　so　simple　and　childish；　yet　so　very　proud。　Oh；　she　stood　on
proud　legs；　with　a　lovely　reckless　balance　of　her　full　belly；
and　the　adorable　little　roundnesses；　and　the　breasts　being
important。　Above　it　all；　her　face　was　like　a　rosy　cloud
shining。

How　proud　she　was；　what　a　lovely　proud　thing　her　young　body！
And　she　loved　him　to　put　his　hand　on　her　ripe　fullness；　so　that
he　should　thrill　also　with　the　stir　and　the　quickening　there。　He
was　afraid　and　silent；　but　she　flung　her　arms　round　his　neck
with　proud；　impudent　joy。

The　pains　came　on；　and　Oh……how　she　cried！　She　would　have
him　stay　with　her。　And　after　her　long　cries　she　would　look　at
him；　with　tears　in　her　eyes　and　a　sobbing　laugh　on　her　face；
saying：

〃I　don't　mind　it　really。〃

It　was　bad　enough。　But　to　her　it　was　never　deathly。　Even　the
fierce；　tearing　pain　was　exhilarating。　She　screamed　and
suffered；　but　was　all　the　time　curiously　alive　and　vital。　She
felt　so　powerfully　alive　and　in　the　hands　of　such　a　masterly
force　of　life；　that　her　bottom…most　feeling　was　one　of
exhilaration。　She　knew　she　was　winning；　winning；　she　was　always
winning；　with　each　onset　of　pain　she　was　nearer　to　victory。

Probably　he　suffered　more　than　she　did。　He　was　not　shocked　or
horrified。　But　he　was　screwed　very　tight　in　the　vise　of
suffering。

It　was　a　girl。　The　second　of　silence　on　her　face　when　they
said　so　showed　him　she　was　disappointed。　And　a　great　blazing
passion　of　resentment　and　protest　sprang　up　in　his　heart。　In
that　moment　he　claimed　the　child。

But　when　the　milk　came；　and　the　infant　sucked　her　breast；　she
seemed　to　be　leaping　with　extravagant　bliss。

〃It　sucks　me；　it　sucks　me；　it　likes　me……oh；　it　loves
it！〃　she　cried；　holding　the　child　to　her　breast　with　her　two
hands　covering　it；　passionately。

And　in　a　few　moments；　as　she　became　used　to　her　bliss；　she
looked　at　the　youth　with　glowing；　unseeing　eyes；　and　said：

〃Anna　Victrix。〃

He　went　away；　trembling；　and　slept。　To　her；　her　pains　were
the　wound…smart　of　a　victor；　she　was　the　prouder。

When　she　was　well　again　she　was　very　happy。　She　called　the
baby　Ursula。　Both　Anna　and　her　husband　felt　they　must　have　a
name　that　gave　them　private　satisfaction。　The　baby　was　tawny
skinned；　it　had　a　curious　downy　skin；　and　wisps　of　bronze　hair；
and　the　yellow　grey　eyes　that　wavered；　and　then　became
golden…brown　like　the　father's。　So　they　called　her　Ursula
because　of　the　picture　of　the　saint。

It　was　a　rather　delicate　baby　at　first；　but　soon　it　became
stronger；　and　was　restless　as　a　young　eel。　Anna　was　worn　out
with　the　day…long　wrestling　with　its　young　vigour。

As　a　little　animal；　she　loved　and　adored　it　and　was　happy。
She　loved　her　husband；　she　kissed　his　eyes　and　nose　and　mouth；
and　made　much　of　him；　she　said　his　limbs　were　beautiful；　she　was
fascinated　by　the　physical　form　of　him。

And　she　was　indeed　Anna　Victrix。　He　could　not　bat　her　any
more。　He　was　out　in　the　wilderness；　alone　with　her。　Having
occasion　to　go　to　London；　he　marvelled；　as　he　returned；　thinking
of　naked；　lurking　savages　on　an　island；　how　these　had　built　up
and　created　the　great　mass　of　Oxford　Street　or　Piccadilly。　How
had　helpless　savages；　running　with　their　spears　on　the
riverside；　after　fish；　how　had　they　e　to　rear　up　this　great
London；　the　ponderous；　massive；　ugly　superstructure　of　a　world
of　man　upon　a　world　of　nature！　It　frightened　and　awed　him。　Man
was　terrible；　awful　in　his　works。　The　works　of　man　were　more
terrible　than　man　himself；　almost　monstrous。

And　yet；　for　his　own　part；　for　his　private　being；　Brangwen
felt　that　the　whole　of　the　man's　world　was　exterior　and
extraneous　to　his　own　real　life　with　Anna。　Sweep　away　the　whole
monstrous　superstructure　of　the　world　of　to…day；　cities　and
industries　and　civilization；　leave　only　the　bare　earth　with
plants　growing　and　waters　running；　and　he　would　not　mind；　so
long　as　he　were　whole；　had　Anna　and　the　child　and　the　new；
strange　certainty　in　his　soul。　Then；　if　he　were　naked；　he　would
find　clothing　somewhere；　he　would　make　a　shelter　and　bring　food
to　his　wife。

And　what　more？　What　more　would　be　necessary？　The　great　mass
of　activity　in　which　mankind　was　engaged　meant　nothing　to　him。
By　nature；　he　had　no　part　in　it。　What　did　he　live　for；　then？　For
Anna　only；　and　for　the　sake　of　living？　What　did　he　want　on　this
earth？　Anna　only；　and　his　children；　and　his　life　with　his
children　and　her？　Was　there　no　more？

He　was　attended　by　a　sense　of　something　more；　something
further；　which　gave　him　absolute　being。　It　was　as　if　now　he
existed　in　Eternity；　let　Time　be　what　it　might。　What　was　there
outside？　The　fabricated　world；　that　he　did　not　believe　in？　What
should　he　bring　to　her；　from　outside？　Nothing？　Was　it　enough；　as
it　was？　He　was　troubled　in　his　acquiescence。　She　was　not　with
him。　Yet　he　scarcely　believed　in　himself；　apart　from　her；　though
the　whole　Infinite　was　with　him。　Let　the　whole　world　slide　down
and　over　the　edge　of　oblivion；　he　would　stand　alone。　But　he　was
unsure　of　her。　And　he　existed　also　in　her。　So　he　was　unsure。

He　hovered　near　to　her；　never　quite　able　to　forget　the　vague；
haunting　uncertainty；　that　seemed　to　challenge　him；　and　which　he
would　not　hear。　A　pang　of　dread；　almost　guilt；　as　of
insufficiency；　would　go　over　him　as　he　heard　her　talking　to　the
baby。　She　stood　before　the　window；　with　the　month…old　child　in
her　arms；　talking　in　a　musical；　young　sing…song　that　he　had　not
heard　before；　and　which　rang　on　his　heart　like　a　claim　from　the
distance；　or　the　voice　of　another　world　sounding　its　claim　on
him。　He　stood　near；　listening；　and　his　heart　surged；　surged　to
rise　and　submit。　Then　it　shrank　back　and　stayed　aloof。　He　could
not　move；　a　denial　was　upon　him；　as　if　he　could　not　deny
himself。　He　must；　he　must　be　himself。

〃Look　at　the　silly　blue…caps；　my　beauty；〃　she　crooned；
holding　up　the　infant　to　the　window；　where　shone　the　white
garden；　and　the　blue…tits　scuffling　in　the　snow：　〃Look　at　the
silly　blue…caps；　my　darling；　having　a　fight　in　the　snow！　Look　at
them；　my　bird……beating　the　snow　about　with　their　wings；　and
shaking　their　heads。　Oh；　aren't　they　wicked　things；　wicked
things！　Look　at　their　yellow　feathers　on　the　snow　there！　They'll
miss　them；　won't　they；　when　they're　cold　later　on。

〃Must　we　tell　them　to　stop；　must　we　say　'stop　it'　to　them；　my
bird？　But　they　are　naughty；　naughty！　Look　at　them！〃　Suddenly　her
voice　broke　loud　and　fierce；　she　rapped　the　pane　sharply。

〃Stop　it；〃　she　cried；　〃stop　it；　you　little　nuisances。　Stop
it！〃　She　called　louder；　and　rapped　the　pane　more　sharply。　Her
voice　was　fierce　and　imperative。

〃Have　more　sense；〃　she　cried。

〃There；　now　they're　gone。　Where　have　they　gone；　the　silly
things？　What　will　they　say　to　each　other？　What　will　they　say；　my
lambkin？　They'll　forget；　won't　they；　they'll　forget　all　about
it；　out　of　their　silly　little　heads；　and　their　blue　caps。〃

After　a　moment；　she　turned　her　bright　face　to　her
husband。

〃They　were　really　fighting；　they　were　really　fierce
with　each　other！〃　she　said；　her　voice　keen　with　excitement　and
wonder；　as　if　she　belonged　to　the　birds'　world；　were　identified
with　the　race　of　birds。

〃Ay；　they'll　fight；　will　blue…caps；〃　he　said；　glad　when　she
turned　to　him　with　her　glow　from　elsewhere。　He　came　and　stood
beside　her　and　looked　out　at　the　marks　on　the　snow　where　the
birds　had　scuffled；　and　at　the　yew　trees'　burdened；　white　and
black　branches。　What　was　the　appeal　it　made　to　him；　what　was　the
question　of　her　bright　face；　what　was　the　challenge　he　was
called　to　answer？　He　did　not　know。　But　as　he　stood　there　he　felt
some　responsibility　which　made　him　glad；　but　uneasy；　as　if　he
must　put　out　his　own　light。　And　he　could　not　move　as　yet。

Anna　loved　the　child　very　much；　oh；　very　much。　Yet　still　she
was　not　quite　fulfilled。　She　had　a　slight　expectant　feeling；　as
of　a　door　half　opened。　Here　she　was；　safe　and　still　in
Cossethay。　But　she　felt　as　if　she　were　not　in　Cossethay　at　all。
She　was　straining　her　eyes　to　something　beyond。　And　from　her
Pisgah　mount；　which　she　had　attained；　what　could　she　see？　A
faint；　gleaming　horizon；　a　long　way　off；　and　a　rainbow　like　an
archway；　a　shadow…door　with　faintly　coloured　coping　above　it。
Must　she　be　moving　thither？

Something　she　had　not；　something　she　did　not　grasp；　could　not
arrive　at。　There　was　something　beyond　her。　But　why　must　she
start　on　the　journey？　She　stood　so　safely　on　the　Pisgah
mountain。

In　the　winter；　when　she　rose　with　the　sunrise；　and　out　of　the
back　windows　saw　the　east　flaming　yellow　and　orange　above　the
green；　glowing　grass；　while　the　great　pear　tree　in　between　stood
dark　and　magnificent　as　an　idol；　and　under　the　dark　pear　tree；
the　little　sheet　of　water　spread　smooth　in　burnished；　yellow
light；　she　said；　〃It　is　here〃。　And　when；　at　evening；　the　sunset
came　in　a　red　glare　through　the　big　opening　in　the　clouds；　she
said　again；