The Rainbow-虹(英文版)-第38章

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who　was　not　of　her　own　kind　presume　with　authority？　She　knew　she
was　immutable；　unchangeable；　she　was　not　afraid　for　her　own
being。　She　was　only　afraid　of　all　that　was　not　herself。　It
pressed　round　her；　it　came　to　her　and　took　part　in　her；　in　form
of　her　man；　this　vast；　resounding；　alien　world　which　was　not
herself。　And　he　had　so　many　weapons；　he　might　strike　from　so
many　sides。

When　he　came　in　at　the　door；　his　heart　was　blazed　with　pity
and　tenderness；　she　looked　so　lost　and　forlorn　and　young。　She
glanced　up；　afraid。　And　she　was　surprised　to　see　him；
shining…faced；　clear　and　beautiful　in　his　movements；　as　if　he
were　clarified。　And　a　startled　pang　of　fear；　and　shame　of
herself　went　through　her。

They　waited　for　each　other　to　speak。

〃Do　you　want　to　eat　anything？〃　she　said。

〃I'll　get　it　myself；〃　he　answered；　not　wanting　her　to　serve
him。　But　she　brought　out　food。　And　it　pleased　him　she　did　it　for
him。　He　was　again　a　bright　lord。

〃I　went　to　Nottingham；〃　he　said　mildly。

〃To　your　mother？〃　she　asked；　in　a　flash　of　contempt。

〃No……I　didn't　go　home。〃

〃Who　did　you　go　to　see？〃

〃I　went　to　see　nobody。〃

〃Then　why　did　you　go　to　Nottingham？〃

〃I　went　because　I　wanted　to　go。〃

He　was　getting　angry　that　she　again　rebuffed　him　when　he　was
so　clear　and　shining。

〃And　who　did　you　see？〃

〃I　saw　nobody。〃

〃Nobody？〃

〃No……who　should　I　see？〃

〃You　saw　nobody　you　knew？〃

〃No；　I　didn't；〃　he　replied　irritably。

She　believed　him；　and　her　mood　became　cold。

〃I　bought　a　book；〃　he　said；　handing　her　the　propitiatory
volume。

She　idly　looked　at　the　pictures。　Beautiful；　the　pure　women；
with　their　clear…dropping　gowns。　Her　heart　became　colder。　What
did　they　mean　to　him？

He　sat　and　waited　for　her。　She　bent　over　the　book。

〃Aren't　they　nice？〃　he　said；　his　voice　roused　and　glad。　Her
blood　flushed；　but　she　did　not　lift　her　head。

〃Yes；〃　she　said。　In　spite　of　herself；　she　was　pelled　by
him。　He　was　strange；　attractive；　exerting　some　power　over
her。

He　came　over　to　her；　and　touched　her　delicately。　Her　heart
beat　with　wild　passion；　wild　raging　passion。　But　she　resisted　as
yet。　It　was　always　the　unknown；　always　the　unknown；　and　she
clung　fiercely　to　her　known　self。　But　the　rising　flood　carried
her　away。

They　loved　each　other　to　transport　again；　passionately　and
fully。

〃Isn't　it　more　wonderful　than　ever？〃　she　asked　him；　radiant
like　a　newly　opened　flower；　with　tears　like　dew。

He　held　her　closer。　He　was　strange　and　abstracted。

〃It　is　always　more　wonderful；〃　she　asseverated；　in　a　glad；
child's　voice；　remembering　her　fear；　and　not　quite　cleared　of　it
yet。

So　it　went　on　continually；　the　recurrence　of　love　and
conflict　between　them。　One　day　it　seemed　as　if　everything　was
shattered；　all　life　spoiled；　ruined；　desolate　and　laid　waste。
The　next　day　it　was　all　marvellous　again；　just　marvellous。　One
day　she　thought　she　would　go　mad　from　his　very　presence；　the
sound　of　his　drinking　was　detestable　to　her。　The　next　day　she
loved　and　rejoiced　in　the　way　he　crossed　the　floor；　he　was　sun；
moon　and　stars　in　one。

She　fretted；　however；　at　last；　over　the　lack　of　stability。
When　the　perfect　hours　came　back；　her　heart　did　not　forget　that
they　would　pass　away　again。　She　was　uneasy。　The　surety；　the
surety；　the　inner　surety；　the　confidence　in　the　abidingness　of
love：　that　was　what　she　wanted。　And　that　she　did　not　get。　She
knew　also　that　he　had　not　got　it。

Nevertheless　it　was　a　marvellous　world；　she　was　for　the　most
part　lost　in　the　marvellousness　of　it。　Even　her　great　woes　were
marvellous　to　her。

She　could　be　very　happy。　And　she　wanted　to　be　happy。　She
resented　it　when　he　made　her　unhappy。　Then　she　could　kill　him；
cast　him　out。　Many　days；　she　waited　for　the　hour　when　he　would
be　gone　to　work。　Then　the　flow　of　her　life；　which　he　seemed　to
damn　up；　was　let　loose；　and　she　was　free。　She　was　free；　she　was
full　of　delight。　Everything　delighted　her。　She　took　up　the　rug
and　went　to　shake　it　in　the　garden。　Patches　of　snow　were　on　the
fields；　the　air　was　light。　She　heard　the　ducks　shouting　on　the
pond；　she　saw　them　charge　and　sail　across　the　water　as　if　they
were　setting　off　on　an　invasion　of　the　world。　She　watched　the
rough　horses；　one　of　which　was　clipped　smooth　on　the　belly；　so
that　he　wore　a　jacket　and　long　stockings　of　brown　fur；　stand
kissing　each　other　in　the　wintry　morning　by　the　church…yard
wall。　Everything　delighted　her；　now　he　was　gone；　the　insulator；
the　obstruction　removed；　the　world　was　all　hers；　in　connection
with　her。

She　was　joyfully　active。　Nothing　pleased　her　more　than　to
hang　out　the　washing　in　a　high　wind　that　came　full…butt　over　the
round　of　the　hill；　tearing　the　wet　garments　out　of　her　hands；
making　flap…flap…flap　of　the　waving　stuff。　She　laughed　and
struggled　and　grew　angry。　But　she　loved　her　solitary　days。

Then　he　came　home　at　night；　and　she　knitted　her　brows　because
of　some　endless　contest　between　them。　As　he　stood　in　the　doorway
her　heart　changed。　It　steeled　itself。　The　laughter　and　zest　of
the　day　disappeared　from　her。　She　was　stiffened。

They　fought　an　unknown　battle；　unconsciously。　Still　they　were
in　love　with　each　other；　the　passion　was　there。　But　the　passion
was　consumed　in　a　battle。　And　the　deep；　fierce　unnamed　battle
went　on。　Everything　glowed　intensely　about　them；　the　world　had
put　off　its　clothes　and　was　awful；　with　new；　primal
nakedness。

Sunday　came　when　the　strange　spell　was　cast　over　her　by　him。
Half　she　loved　it。　She　was　being　more　like　him。　All　the
week…days；　there　was　a　glint　of　sky　and　fields；　the　little
church　seemed　to　babble　away　to　the　cottages　the　morning
through。　But　on　Sundays；　when　he　stayed　at　home；　a
deeply…coloured；　intense　gloom　seemed　to　gather　on　the　face　of
the　earth；　the　church　seemed　to　fill　itself　with　shadow；　to
bee　big；　a　universe　to　her；　there　was　a　burning　of　blue　and
ruby；　a　sound　of　worship　about　her。　And　when　the　doors　were
opened；　and　she　came　out　into　the　world；　it　was　a　world
new……created；　she　stepped　into　the　resurrection　of　the
world；　her　heart　beating　to　the　memory　of　the　darkness　and　the
Passion。

If；　as　very　often；　they　went　to　the　Marsh　for　tea　on　Sundays；
then　she　regained　another；　lighter　world；　that　had　never　known
the　gloom　and　the　stained　glass　and　the　ecstasy　of　chanting。　Her
husband　was　obliterated；　she　was　with　her　father　again；　who　was
so　fresh　and　free　and　all　daylight。　Her　husband；　with　his
intensity　and　his　darkness；　was　obliterated。　She　left　him；　she
forgot　him；　she　accepted　her　father。

Yet；　as　she　went　home　again　with　the　young　man；　she　put　her
hand　on　his　arm　tentatively；　a　little　bit　ashamed；　her　hand
pleaded　that　he　would　not　hold　it　against　her；　her　recusancy。
But　he　was　obscured。　He　seemed　to　bee　blind；　as　if　he　were
not　there　with　her。

Then　she　was　afraid。　She　wanted　him。　When　he　was　oblivious　of
her；　she　almost　went　mad　with　fear。　For　she　had　bee　so
vulnerable；　so　exposed。　She　was　in　touch　so　intimately。　All
things　about　her　had　bee　intimate；　she　had　known　them　near
and　lovely；　like　presences　hovering　upon　her。　What　if　they
should　all　go　hard　and　separate　again；　standing　back　from　her
terrible　and　distinct；　and　she；　having　known　them；　should　be　at
their　mercy？

This　frightened　her。　Always；　her　husband　was　to　her　the
unknown　to　which　she　was　delivered　up。　She　was　a　flower　that　has
been　tempted　forth　into　blossom；　and　has　no　retreat。　He　had　her
nakedness　in　his　power。　And　who　was　he；　what　was　he？　A　blind
thing；　a　dark　force；　without　knowledge。　She　wanted　to　preserve
herself。

Then　she　gathered　him　to　herself　again　and　was　satisfied　for
a　moment。　But　as　time　went　on；　she　began　to　realize　more　and
more　that　he　did　not　alter；　that　he　was　something　dark；　alien　to
herself。　She　had　thought　him　just　the　bright　reflex　of　herself。
As　the　weeks　and　months　went　by　she　realized　that　he　was　a　dark
opposite　to　her；　that　they　were　opposites；　not　plements。

He　did　not　alter；　he　remained　separately　himself；　and　he
seemed　to　expect　her　to　be　part　of　himself；　the　extension　of　his
will。　She　felt　him　trying　to　gain　power　over　her；　without
knowing　her。　What　did　he　want？　Was　he　going　to　bully　her？

What　did　she　want　herself？　She　answered　herself；　that　she
wanted　to　be　happy；　to　be　natural；　like　the　sunlight　and　the
busy　daytime。　And；　at　the　bottom　of　her　soul；　she　felt　he　wanted
her　to　be　dark；　unnatural。　Sometimes；　when　he　seemed　like　the
darkness　covering　and　smothering　her；　she　revolted　almost　in
horror；　and　struck　at　him。　She　struck　at　him；　and　made　him
bleed；　and　he　became　wicked。　Because　she　dreaded　him　and　held
him　in　horror；　he　became　wicked；　he　wanted　to　destroy。　And　then
the　fight　between　them　was　cruel。

She　began　to　tremble。　He　wanted　to　impose　himself　on　her。　And
he　began　to　shudder。　She　wanted　to　desert　him；　to　leave　him　a
prey　to　the　open；　with　the　unclean　dogs　of　the　darkness　setting
on　to　devour　him。　He　must　beat　her；　and　make　her　stay　with　him。
Whereas　she　fought　to　keep　herself　free　of　him。

They　went　their　ways　now　shadowed　and　stained　with　blood；
feeling　the　world　far　off；　unable　to　give　help。　Till　she　began
to　get　tired。　After　a　certain　point；　she　became　impassive；
detached　utterly　from　h