The Rainbow-虹(英文版)-第75章

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and　fishes。

〃And　you；　be　ye　fruitful　and　multiply；　bring　forth　abundantly
in　the　earth；　and　multiply　therein。〃

In　her　soul　she　mocked　at　this　multiplication；　every　cow
being　two　cows；　every　turnip　ten　turnips。

〃And　God　said；　This　is　the　token　of　the　covenant　which　I　make
between　me　and　you　and　every　living　creature　that　is　with　you；
for　perpetual　generations；

〃I　do　set　my　bow　in　the　cloud；　and　it　shall　be　a　token　of　a
covenant　between　me　and　the　earth。

〃And　it　shall　e　to　pass；　when　I　bring　a　cloud　over　the
earth；　that　a　bow　shall　be　seen　in　the　cloud；

〃And　I　will　remember　my　covenant；　which　is　between　me　and　you
and　every　living　creature　of　all　flesh；　and　the　waters　shall　no
more　bee　a　flood　to　destroy　all　flesh。〃

〃Destroy　all　flesh；〃　why　〃flesh〃　in　particular？　Who　was　this
lord　of　flesh？　After　all；　how　big　was　the　Flood？　Perhaps　a　few
dryads　and　fauns　had　just　run　into　the　hills　and　the　farther
valleys　and　woods；　frightened；　but　most　had　gone　on　blithely
unaware　of　any　flood　at　all；　unless　the　nymphs　should　tell　them。
It　pleased　Ursula　to　think　of　the　naiads　in　Asia　Minor　meeting
the　nereids　at　the　mouth　of　the　streams；　where　the　sea　washed
against　the　fresh；　sweet　tide；　and　calling　to　their　sisters　the
news　of　Noah's　Flood。　They　would　tell　amusing　accounts　of　Noah
in　his　ark。　Some　nymphs　would　relate　how　they　had　hung　on　the
side　of　the　ark；　peeped　in；　and　heard　Noah　and　Shem　and　Ham　and
Japeth；　sitting　in　their　place　under　the　rain；　saying；　how　they
four　were　the　only　men　on　earth　now；　because　the　Lord　had
drowned　all　the　rest；　so　that　they　four　would　have　everything　to
themselves；　and　be　masters　of　every　thing；　sub…tenants　under　the
great　Proprietor。

Ursula　wished　she　had　been　a　nymph。　She　would　have　laughed
through　the　window　of　the　ark；　and　flicked　drops　of　the　flood　at
Noah；　before　she　drifted　away　to　people　who　were　less　important
in　their　Proprietor　and　their　Flood。

What　was　God；　after　all？　If　maggots　in　a　dead　dog　be　but　God
kissing　carrion；　what　then　is　not　God？　She　was　surfeited　of　this
God。　She　was　weary　of　the　Ursula　Brangwen　who　felt　troubled
about　God。　What　ever　God　was；　He　was；　and　there　was　no　need　for
her　to　trouble　about　Him。　She　felt　she　had　now　all　licence。

Skrebensky　sat　beside　her；　listening　to　the　sermon；　to　the
voice　of　law　and　order。　〃The　very　hairs　of　your　head　are　all
numbered。〃　He　did　not　believe　it。　He　believed　his　own　things
were　quite　at　his　own　disposal。　You　could　do　as　you　liked　with
your　own　things；　so　long　as　you　left　other　people's　alone。

Ursula　caressed　him　and　made　love　to　him。　Nevertheless　he
knew　she　wanted　to　react　upon　him　and　to　destroy　his　being。　She
was　not　with　him；　she　was　against　him。　But　her　making　love　to
him；　her　plete　admiration　of　him；　in　open　life；　gratified
him。

She　caught　him　out　of　himself；　and　they　were　lovers；　in　a
young；　romantic；　almost　fantastic　way。　He　gave　her　a　little
ring。　They　put　it　in　Rhine　wine；　in　their　glass；　and　she　drank；
then　he　drank。　They　drank　till　the　ring　lay　exposed　at　the
bottom　of　the　glass。　Then　she　took　the　simple　jewel；　and　tied　it
on　a　thread　round　her　neck；　where　she　wore　it。

He　asked　her　for　a　photograph　when　he　was　going　away。　She
went　in　great　excitement　to　the　photographer；　with　five
shillings。　The　result　was　an　ugly　little　picture　of　herself　with
her　mouth　on　one　side。　She　wondered　over　it　and　admired　it。

He　saw　only　the　live　face　of　the　girl。　The　picture　hurt　him。
He　kept　it；　he　always　remembered　it；　but　he　could　scarcely　bear
to　see　it。　There　was　a　hurt　to　his　soul　in　the　clear；　fearless
face　that　was　touched　with　abstraction。　Its　abstraction　was
certainly　away　from　him。

Then　war　was　declared　with　the　Boers　in　South　Africa；　and
everywhere　was　a　fizz　of　excitement。　He　wrote　that　he　might　have
to　go。　And　he　sent　her　a　box　of　sweets。

She　was　slightly　dazed　at　the　thought　of　his　going　to　the
war；　not　knowing　how　to　feel。　It　was　a　sort　of　romantic
situation　that　she　knew　so　well　in　fiction　she　hardly　understood
it　in　fact。　Underneath　a　top　elation　was　a　sort　of　dreariness；
deep；　ashy　disappointment。

However；　she　secreted　the　sweets　under　her　bed；　and　ate　them
all　herself；　when　she　went　to　bed；　and　when　she　woke　in　the
morning。　All　the　time　she　felt　very　guilty　and　ashamed；　but　she
simply　did　not　want　to　share　them。

That　box　of　sweets　remained　stuck　in　her　mind　afterwards。　Why
had　she　secreted　them　and　eaten　them　every　one？　Why？　She　did　not
feel　guilty……she　only　knew　she　ought　to　feel　guilty。　And
she　could　not　make　up　her　mind。　Curiously　monumental　that　box　of
sweets　stood　up；　now　it　was　empty。　It　was　a　crux　for　her。　What
was　she　to　think　of　it？

The　idea　of　war　altogether　made　her　feel　uneasy；　uneasy。　When
men　began　organized　fighting　with　each　other　it　seemed　to　her　as
if　the　poles　of　the　universe　were　cracking；　and　the　whole　might
go　tumbling　into　the　bottomless　pit。　A　horrible　bottomless
feeling　she　had。　Yet　of　course　there　was　the　minted
superscription　of　romance　and　honour　and　even　religion　about
war。　She　was　very　confused。

Skrebensky　was　busy；　he　could　not　e　to　see　her。　She　asked
for　no　assurance；　no　security。　What　was　between　them；　was；　and
could　not　be　altered　by　avowals。　She　knew　that　by　instinct；　she
trusted　to　the　intrinsic　reality。

But　she　felt　an　agony　of　helplessness。　She　could　do　nothing。
Vaguely　she　knew　the　huge　powers　of　the　world　rolling　and
crashing　together；　darkly；　clumsily；　stupidly；　yet　colossal；　so
that　one　was　brushed　along　almost　as　dust。　Helpless；　helpless；
swirling　like　dust！　Yet　she　wanted　so　hard　to　rebel；　to　rage；　to
fight。　But　with　what？

Could　she　with　her　hands　fight　the　face　of　the　earth；　beat
the　hills　in　their　places？　Yet　her　breast　wanted　to　fight；　to
fight　the　whole　world。　And　these　two　small　hands　were　all　she
had　to　do　it　with。

The　months　went　by；　and　it　was　Christmas……the　snowdrops
came。　There　was　a　little　hollow　in　the　wood　near　Cossethay；
where　snowdrops　grew　wild。　She　sent　him　some　in　a　box；　and　he
wrote　her　a　quick　little　note　of　thanks……very　grateful　and
wistful　he　seemed。　Her　eyes　grew　childlike　and　puzzled。　Puzzled
from　day　to　day　she　went　on；　helpless；　carried　along　by　all　that
must　happen。

He　went　about　at　his　duties；　giving　himself　up　to　them。　At
the　bottom　of　his　heart　his　self；　the　soul　that　aspired　and　had
true　hope　of　self…effectuation　lay　as　dead；　still…born；　a　dead
weight　in　his　womb。　Who　was　he；　to　hold　important　his　personal
connection？　What　did　a　man　matter　personally？　He　was　just　a
brick　in　the　whole　great　social　fabric；　the　nation；　the　modern
humanity。　His　personal　movements　were　small；　and　entirely
subsidiary。　The　whole　form　must　be　ensured；　not　ruptured；　for
any　personal　reason　whatsoever；　since　no　personal　reason　could
justify　such　a　breaking。　What　did　personal　intimacy　matter？　One
had　to　fill　one's　place　in　the　whole；　the　great　scheme　of　man's
elaborate　civilization；　that　was　all。　The　Whole
mattered……but　the　unit；　the　person；　had　no　importance；
except　as　he　represented　the　Whole。

So　Skrebensky　left　the　girl　out　and　went　his　way；　serving
what　he　had　to　serve；　and　enduring　what　he　had　to　endure；
without　remark。　To　his　own　intrinsic　life；　he　was　dead。　And　he
could　not　rise　again　from　the　dead。　His　soul　lay　in　the　tomb。
His　life　lay　in　the　established　order　of　things。　He　had　his　five
senses　too。　They　were　to　be　gratified。　Apart　from　this；　he
represented　the　great；　established；　extant　Idea　of　life；　and　as
this　he　was　important　and　beyond　question。

The　good　of　the　greatest　number　was　all　that　mattered。　That
which　was　the　greatest　good　for　them　all；　collectively；　was　the
greatest　good　for　the　individual。　And　so；　every　man　must　give
himself　to　support　the　state；　and　so　labour　for　the　greatest
good　of　all。　One　might　make　improvements　in　the　state；　perhaps；
but　always　with　a　view　to　preserving　it　intact。

No　highest　good　of　the　munity；　however；　would　give　him　the
vital　fulfilment　of　his　soul。　He　knew　this。　But　he　did　not
consider　the　soul　of　the　individual　sufficiently　important。　He
believed　a　man　was　important　in　so　far　as　he　represented　all
humanity。

He　could　not　see；　it　was　not　born　in　him　to　see；　that　the
highest　good　of　the　munity　as　it　stands　is　no　longer　the
highest　good　of　even　the　average　individual。　He　thought　that；
because　the　munity　represents　millions　of　people；　therefore
it　must　be　millions　of　times　more　important　than　any　individual；
forgetting　that　the　munity　is　an　abstraction　from　the　many；
and　is　not　the　many　themselves。　Now　when　the　statement　of　the
abstract　good　for　the　munity　has　bee　a　formula　lacking　in
all　inspiration　or　value　to　the　average　intelligence；　then　the
〃mon　good〃　bees　a　general　nuisance；　representing　the
vulgar；　conservative　materialism　at　a　low　level。

And　by　the　highest　good　of　the　greatest　number　is　chiefly
meant　the　material　prosperity　of　all　classes。　Skrebensky　did　not
really　care　about　his　own　material　prosperity。　If　he　had　been
penniless……well；　he　would　have　taken　his　chances。　Therefore
how　could　he　find　his　highest　good　in　giving　up　his　life　for　the
material　prosperity　of　everybody　else！　What　he　considered　an
unimportant　thing　for　himself