The Rainbow-虹(英文版)-第30章

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there　was　the　grassy　garden；　the　procession　of　black　yew　trees
down　one　side；　and　along　the　other　sides；　a　red　wall　with　ivy
separating　the　place　from　the　high…road　and　the　churchyard。　The
old；　little　church；　with　its　small　spire　on　a　square　tower；
seemed　to　be　looking　back　at　the　cottage　windows。

〃There'll　be　no　need　to　have　a　clock；〃　said　Will　Brangwen；
peeping　out　at　the　white　clock…face　on　the　tower；　his
neighbour。

At　the　back　of　the　house　was　a　garden　adjoining　the　paddock；
a　cowshed　with　standing　for　two　cows；　pig…cotes　and　fowl…houses。
Will　Brangwen　was　very　happy。　Anna　was　glad　to　think　of　being
mistress　of　her　own　place。

Tom　Brangwen　was　now　the　fairy　godfather。　He　was　never　happy
unless　he　was　buying　something。　Will　Brangwen；　with　his　interest
in　all　wood…work；　was　getting　the　furniture。　He　was　left　to　buy
tables　and　round…staved　chairs　and　the　dressers；　quite　ordinary
stuff；　but　such　as　was　identified　with　his　cottage。

Tom　Brangwen；　with　more　particular　thought；　spied　out　what　he
called　handy　little　things　for　her。　He　appeared　with　a　set　of
new…fangled　cooking…pans；　with　a　special　sort　of　hanging　lamp；
though　the　rooms　were　so　low；　with　canny　little　machines　for
grinding　meat　or　mashing　potatoes　or　whisking　eggs。

Anna　took　a　sharp　interest　in　what　he　bought；　though　she　was
not　always　pleased。　Some　of　the　little　contrivances；　which　he
thought　so　canny；　left　her　doubtful。　Nevertheless　she　was　always
expectant；　on　market　days　there　was　always　a　long　thrill　of
anticipation。　He　arrived　with　the　first　darkness；　the　copper
lamps　of　his　cart　glowing。　And　she　ran　to　the　gate；　as　he；　a
dark；　burly　figure　up　in　the　cart；　was　bending　over　his
parcels。

〃It's　cupboard　love　as　brings　you　out　so　sharp；〃　he　said；　his
voice　resounding　in　the　cold　darkness。　Nevertheless　he　was
excited。　And　she；　taking　one　of　the　cart　lamps；　poked　and　peered
among　the　jumble　of　things　he　had　brought；　pushing　aside　the　oil
or　implements　he　had　got　for　himself。

She　dragged　out　a　pair　of　small；　strong　bellows；　registered
them　in　her　mind；　and　then　pulled　uncertainly　at　something　else。
It　had　a　long　handle；　and　a　piece　of　brown　paper　round　the
middle　of　it；　like　a　waistcoat。

〃What's　this？〃　she　said；　poking。

He　stopped　to　look　at　her。　She　went　to　the　lamp…light　by　the
horse；　and　stood　there　bent　over　the　new　thing；　while　her　hair
was　like　bronze；　her　apron　white　and　cheerful。　Her　fingers
plucked　busily　at　the　paper。　She　dragged　forth　a　little　wringer；
with　clean　indiarubber　rollers。　She　examined　it　critically；　not
knowing　quite　how　it　worked。

She　looked　up　at　him。　He　stood　a　shadowy　presence　beyond　the
light。

〃How　does　it　go？〃　she　asked。

〃Why；　it's　for　pulpin'　turnips；〃　he　replied。

She　looked　at　him。　His　voice　disturbed　her。

〃Don't　be　silly。　It's　a　little　mangle；〃　she　said。　〃How　do　you
stand　it；　though？〃

〃You　screw　it　on　th'　side　o'　your　wash…tub。〃　He　came　and　held
it　out　to　her。

〃Oh；　yes！〃　she　cried；　with　one　of　her　little　skipping
movements；　which　still　came　when　she　was　suddenly　glad。

And　without　another　thought　she　ran　off　into　the　house；
leaving　him　to　untackle　the　horse。　And　when　he　came　into　the
scullery；　he　found　her　there；　with　the　little　wringer　fixed　on
the　dolly…tub；　turning　blissfully　at　the　handle；　and　Tilly
beside　her；　exclaiming：

〃My　word；　that's　a　natty　little　thing！　That'll　save　you
luggin'　your　inside　out。　That's　the　latest　contraption；　that
is。〃

And　Anna　turned　away　at　the　handle；　with　great　gusto　of
possession。　Then　she　let　Tilly　have　a　turn。

〃It　fair　runs　by　itself；〃　said　Tilly；　turning　on　and　on。
〃Your　clothes'll　nip　out　on　to　th'　line。〃



CHAPTER　V

WEDDING　AT　THE　MARSH

It　was　a　beautiful　sunny　day　for　the　wedding；　a　muddy　earth
but　a　bright　sky。　They　had　three　cabs　and　two　big　closed…in
vehicles。　Everybody　crowded　in　the　parlour　in　excitement。　Anna
was　still　upstairs。　Her　father　kept　taking　a　nip　of　brandy。　He
was　handsome　in　his　black　coat　and　grey　trousers。　His　voice　was
hearty　but　troubled。　His　wife　came　down　in　dark　grey　silk　with
lace；　and　a　touch　of　peacock…blue　in　her　bonnet。　Her　little　body
was　very　sure　and　definite。　Brangwen　was　thankful　she　was　there；
to　sustain　him　among　all　these　people。

The　carriages！　The　Nottingham　Mrs。　Brangwen；　in　silk　brocade；
stands　in　the　doorway　saying　who　must　go　with　whom。　There　is　a
great　bustle。　The　front　door　is　opened；　and　the　wedding　guests
are　walking　down　the　garden　path；　whilst　those　still　waiting
peer　through　the　window；　and　the　little　crowd　at　the　gate　gorps
and　stretches。　How　funny　such　dressed…up　people　look　in　the
winter　sunshine！

They　are　gone……another　lot！　There　begins　to　be　more
room。　Anna　es　down　blushing　and　very　shy；　to　be　viewed　in　her
white　silk　and　her　veil。　Her　mother…in…law　surveys　her
objectively；　twitches　the　white　train；　arranges　the　folds　of　the
veil　and　asserts　herself。

Loud　exclamations　from　the　window　that　the　bridegroom's
carriage　has　just　passed。

〃Where's　your　hat；　father；　and　your　gloves？〃　cries　the　bride；
stamping　her　white　slipper；　her　eyes　flashing　through　her　veil。
He　hunts　round……his　hair　is　ruffled。　Everybody　has　gone　but
the　bride　and　her　father。　He　is　ready……his　face　very　red
and　daunted。　Tilly　dithers　in　the　little　porch；　waiting　to　open
the　door。　A　waiting　woman　walks　round　Anna；　who　asks：

〃Am　I　all　right？〃

She　is　ready。　She　bridles　herself　and　looks　queenly。　She
waves　her　hand　sharply　to　her　father：

〃e　here！〃

He　goes。　She　puts　her　hand　very　lightly　on　his　arm；　and
holding　her　bouquet　like　a　shower；　stepping；　oh；　very
graciously；　just　a　little　impatient　with　her　father　for　being　so
red　in　the　face；　she　sweeps　slowly　past　the　fluttering　Tilly；
and　down　the　path。　There　are　hoarse　shouts　at　the　gate；　and　all
her　floating　foamy　whiteness　passes　slowly　into　the　cab。

Her　father　notices　her　slim　ankle　and　foot　as　she　steps　up：　a
child's　foot。　His　heart　is　hard　with　tenderness。　But　she　is　in
ecstasies　with　herself　for　making　such　a　lovely　spectacle。　All
the　way　she　sat　flamboyant　with　bliss　because　it　was　all　so
lovely。　She　looked　down　solicitously　at　her　bouquet：　white　roses
and　lilies…of…the…valley　and　tube…roses　and　maidenhair
fern……very　rich　and　cascade…like。

Her　father　sat　bewildered　with　all　this　strangeness；　his
heart　was　so　full　it　felt　hard；　and　he　couldn't　think　of
anything。

The　church　was　decorated　for　Christmas；　dark　with　evergreens；
cold　and　snowy　with　white　flowers。　He　went　vaguely　down　to　the
altar。　How　long　was　it　since　he　had　gone　to　be　married　himself？
He　was　not　sure　whether　he　was　going　to　be　married　now；　or　what
he　had　e　for。　He　had　a　troubled　notion　that　he　had　to　do
something　or　other。　He　saw　his　wife's　bonnet；　and　wondered　why
she　wasn't　there　with　him。

They　stood　before　the　altar。　He　was　staring　up　at　the　east
window；　that　glowed　intensely；　a　sort　of　blue　purple：　it　was
deep　blue　glowing；　and　some　crimson；　and　little　yellow　flowers
held　fast　in　veins　of　shadow；　in　a　heavy　web　of　darkness。　How　it
burned　alive　in　radiance　among　its　black　web。

〃Who　giveth　this　woman　to　be　married　to　this　man？〃　He　felt
somebody　touch　him。　He　started。　The　words　still　re…echoed　in　his
memory；　but　were　drawing　off。

〃Me；〃　he　said　hastily。

Ann　bent　her　head　and　smiled　in　her　veil。　How　absurd　he
was。

Brangwen　was　staring　away　at　the　burning　blue　window　at　the
back　of　the　altar；　and　wondering　vaguely；　with　pain；　if　he　ever
should　get　old；　if　he　ever　should　feel　arrived　and　established。
He　was　here　at　Anna's　wedding。　Well；　what　right　had　he　to　feel
responsible；　like　a　father？　He　was　still　as　unsure　and　unfixed
as　when　he　had　married　himself。　His　wife　and　he！　With　a　pang　of
anguish　he　realized　what　uncertainties　they　both　were。　He　was　a
man　of　forty…five。　Forty…five！　In　five　more　years　fifty。　Then
sixty……then　seventy……then　it　was　finished。　My
God……and　one　still　was　so　unestablished！

How　did　one　grow　old…how　could　one　bee　confident？　He
wished　he　felt　older。　Why；　what　difference　was　there；　as　far　as
he　felt　matured　or　pleted；　between　him　now　and　him　at　his　own
wedding？　He　might　be　getting　married　over　again……he　and　his
wife。　He　felt　himself　tiny；　a　little；　upright　figure　on　a　plain
circled　round　with　the　immense；　roaring　sky：　he　and　his　wife；
two　little；　upright　figures　walking　across　this　plain；　whilst
the　heavens　shimmered　and　roared　about　them。　When　did　one　e
to　an　end？　In　which　direction　was　it　finished？　There　was　no　end；
no　finish；　only　this　roaring　vast　space。　Did　one　never　get　old；
never　die？　That　was　the　clue。　He　exulted　strangely；　with
torture。　He　would　go　on　with　his　wife；　he　and　she　like　two
children　camping　in　the　plains。　What　was　sure　but　the　endless
sky？　But　that　was　so　sure；　so　boundless。

Still　the　royal　blue　colour　burned　and　blazed　and　sported
itself　in　the　web　of　darkness　before　him；　unwearyingly　rich　and
splendid。　How　rich　and　splendid　his　own　life　was；　red　and
burning　and　blazing　and　sporting　itself　in　the　dark　meshes　of
his　body：　and　his　wife；　how　she　glowed　and　burned　dark　within
her　meshes！　Always　it　was　so　unfinished　and　unformed！

There　was　a　loud　noise　of　the　organ。　The　whole　party　was
trooping　to　the　v