The Rainbow-虹(英文版)-第17章

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came　to　him　again；　and；　his　heart　delirious　in　delight　and
readiness；　he　took　her。　And　it　was　almost　as　before。

Perhaps　it　was　quite　as　before。　At　any　rate；　it　made　him　know
perfection；　it　established　in　him　a　constant　eternal
knowledge。

But　it　died　down　before　he　wanted　it　to　die　down。　She　was
finished；　she　could　take　no　more。　And　he　was　not　exhausted；　he
wanted　to　go　on。　But　it　could　not　be。

So　he　had　to　begin　the　bitter　lesson；　to　abate　himself；　to
take　less　than　he　wanted。　For　she　was　Woman　to　him；　all　other
women　were　her　shadows。　For　she　had　satisfied　him。　And　he　wanted
it　to　go　on。　And　it　could　not。　However　he　raged；　and；　filled
with　suppression　that　became　hot　and　bitter；　hated　her　in　his
soul　that　she　did　not　want　him；　however　he　had　mad　outbursts；
and　drank　and　made　ugly　scenes；　still　he　knew；　he　was　only
kicking　against　the　pricks。　It　was　not；　he　had　to　learn；　that
she　would　not　want　him　enough；　as　much　as　he　demanded　that　she
should　want　him。　It　was　that　she　could　not。　She　could　only　want
him　in　her　own　way；　and　to　her　own　measure。　And　she　had　spent
much　life　before　he　found　her　as　she　was；　the　woman　who　could
take　him　and　give　him　fulfilment。　She　had　taken　him　and　given
him　fulfilment。　She　still　could　do　so；　in　her　own　times　and
ways。　But　he　must　control　himself；　measure　himself　to　her。

He　wanted　to　give　her　all　his　love；　all　his　passion；　all　his
essential　energy。　But　it　could　not　be。　He　must　find　other　things
than　her；　other　centres　of　living。　She　sat　close　and　impregnable
with　the　child。　And　he　was　jealous　of　the　child。

But　he　loved　her；　and　time　came　to　give　some　sort　of　course
to　his　troublesome　current　of　life；　so　that　it　did　not　foam　and
flood　and　make　misery。　He　formed　another　centre　of　love　in　her
child；　Anna。　Gradually　a　part　of　his　stream　of　life　was　diverted
to　the　child；　relieving　the　main　flood　to　his　wife。　Also　he
sought　the　pany　of　men；　he　drank　heavily　now　and　again。

The　child　ceased　to　have　so　much　anxiety　for　her　mother　after
the　baby　came。　Seeing　the　mother　with　the　baby　boy；　delighted
and　serene　and　secure；　Anna　was　at　first　puzzled；　then　gradually
she　became　indignant；　and　at　last　her　little　life　settled　on　its
own　swivel；　she　was　no　more　strained　and　distorted　to　support
her　mother。　She　became　more　childish；　not　so　abnormal；　not
charged　with　cares　she　could　not　understand。　The　charge　of　the
mother；　the　satisfying　of　the　mother；　had　devolved　elsewhere
than　on　her。　Gradually　the　child　was　freed。　She　became　an
independent；　fetful　little　soul；　loving　from　her　own
centre。

Of　her　own　choice；　she　then　loved　Brangwen　most；　or　most
obviously。　For　these　two　made　a　little　life　together；　they　had　a
joint　activity。　It　amused　him；　at　evening；　to　teach　her　to
count；　or　to　say　her　letters。　He　remembered　for　her　all　the
little　nursery　rhymes　and　childish　songs　that　lay　fotten　at
the　bottom　of　his　brain。

At　first　she　thought　them　rubbish。　But　he　laughed；　and　she
laughed。　They　became　to　her　a　huge　joke。　Old　King　Cole　she
thought　was　Brangwen。　Mother　Hubbard　was　Tilly；　her　mother　was
the　old　woman　who　lived　in　a　shoe。　It　was　a　huge；　it　was　a
frantic　delight　to　the　child；　this　nonsense；　after　her　years
with　her　mother；　after　the　poignant　folktales　she　had　had　from
her　mother；　which　always　troubled　and　mystified　her　soul。

She　shared　a　sort　of　recklessness　with　her　father；　a
plete；　chosen　carelessness　that　had　the　laugh　of　ridicule　in
it。　He　loved　to　make　her　voice　go　high　and　shouting　and　defiant
with　laughter。　The　baby　was　darkskinned　and　darkhaired；　like
the　mother；　and　had　hazel　eyes。　Brangwen　called　him　the
blackbird。

〃Hallo；〃　Brangwen　would　cry；　starting　as　he　heard　the　wail　of
the　child　announcing　it　wanted　to　be　taken　out　of　the　cradle；
〃there's　the　blackbird　tuning　up。〃

〃The　blackbird's　singing；〃　Anna　would　shout　with　delight；
〃the　blackbird's　singing。〃

〃When　the　pie　was　opened；〃　Brangwen　shouted　in　his　bawling
bass　voice；　going　over　to　the　cradle；　〃the　bird　began　to
sing。〃

〃Wasn't　it　a　dainty　dish　to　set　before　a　king？〃　cried　Anna；
her　eyes　flashing　with　joy　as　she　uttered　the　cryptic　words；
looking　at　Brangwen　for　confirmation。　He　sat　down　with　the　baby；
saying　loudly：

〃Sing　up；　my　lad；　sing　up。〃

And　the　baby　cried　loudly；　and　Anna　shouted　lustily；　dancing
in　wild　bliss：

　　　〃Sing　a　song　of　sixpence
　　　Pocketful　of　posies；
　　　Ascha！　Ascha！〃

Then　she　stopped　suddenly　in　silence　and　looked　at　Brangwen
again；　her　eyes　flashing；　as　she　shouted　loudly　and
delightedly：

〃I've　got　it　wrong；　I've　got　it　wrong。〃

〃Oh；　my　sirs；〃　said　Tilly　entering；　〃what　a　racket！〃

Brangwen　hushed　the　child　and　Anna　flipped　and　danced　on。　She
loved　her　wild　bursts　of　rowdiness　with　her　father。　Tilly　hated
it；　Mrs。　Brangwen　did　not　mind。

Anna　did　not　care　much　for　other　children。　She　domineered
them；　she　treated　them　as　if　they　were　extremely　young　and
incapable；　to　her　they　were　little　people；　they　were　not　her
equals。　So　she　was　mostly　alone；　flying　round　the　farm；
entertaining　the　farmhands　and　Tilly　and　the　servantgirl；
whirring　on　and　never　ceasing。

She　loved　driving　with　Brangwen　in　the　trap。　Then；　sitting
high　up　and　bowling　along；　her　passion　for　eminence　and
dominance　was　satisfied。　She　was　like　a　little　savage　in　her
arrogance。　She　thought　her　father　important；　she　was　installed
beside　him　on　high。　And　they　spanked　along；　beside　the　high；
flourishing　hedgetops；　surveying　the　activity　of　the
countryside。　When　people　shouted　a　greeting　to　him　from　the　road
below；　and　Brangwen　shouted　jovially　back；　her　little　voice　was
soon　heard　shrilling　along　with　his；　followed　by　her　chuckling
laugh；　when　she　looked　up　at　her　father　with　bright　eyes；　and
they　laughed　at　each　other。　And　soon　it　was　the　custom　for　the
passerby　to　sing　out：　〃How　are　ter；　Tom？　Well；　my　lady！〃　or
else；　〃Mornin'；　Tom；　mornin'；　my　Lass！〃　or　else；　〃You're　off
together　then？〃　or　else；　〃You're　lookin'　rarely；　you　two。〃

Anna　would　respond；　with　her　father：　〃How　are　you；　John！
Good　mornin'；　William！　Ay；　makin'　for　Derby；〃　shrilling
as　loudly　as　she　could。　Though　often；　in　response　to　〃You're　off
out　a　bit　then；〃　she　would　reply；　〃Yes；　we　are；〃　to　the　great
joy　of　all。　She　did　not　like　the　people　who　saluted　him　and　did
not　salute　her。

She　went　into　the　publichouse　with　him；　if　he　had　to　call；
and　often　sat　beside　him　in　the　barparlour　as　he　drank　his　beer
or　brandy。　The　landladies　paid　court　to　her；　in　the　obsequious
way　landladies　have。

〃Well；　little　lady；　an'　what's　your　name？〃

〃Anna　Brangwen；〃　came　the　immediate；　haughty　answer。

〃Indeed　it　is！　An'　do　you　like　driving　in　a　trap　with　your
father？〃

〃Yes；〃　said　Anna；　shy；　but　bored　by　these　inanities。　She　had
a　touchmenot　way　of　blighting　the　inane　inquiries　of　grownup
people。

〃My　word；　she's　a　fawce　little　thing；〃　the　landlady　would　say
to　Brangwen。

〃Ay；〃　he　answered；　not　encouraging　ments　on　the　child。
Then　there　followed　the　present　of　a　biscuit；　or　of　cake；　which
Anna　accepted　as　her　dues。

〃What　does　she　say；　that　I'm　a　fawce　little　thing？〃　the　small
girl　asked　afterwards。

〃She　means　you're　a　sharpshins。〃

Anna　hesitated。　She　did　not　understand。　Then　she　laughed　at
some　absurdity　she　found。

Soon　he　took　her　every　week　to　market　with　him。　〃I　can　e；
can't　I？〃　she　asked　every　Saturday；　or　Thursday　morning；　when　he
made　himself　look　fine　in　his　dress　of　a　gentleman　farmer。　And
his　face　clouded　at　having　to　refuse　her。

So　at　last；　he　overcame　his　own　shyness；　and　tucked　her
beside　him。　They　drove　into　Nottingham　and　put　up　at　the　〃Black
Swan〃。　So　far　all　right。　Then　he　wanted　to　leave　her　at　the　inn。
But　he　saw　her　face；　and　knew　it　was　impossible。　So　he　mustered
his　courage；　and　set　off　with　her；　holding　her　hand；　to　the
cattlemarket。

She　stared　in　bewilderment；　flitting　silent　at　his　side。　But
in　the　cattlemarket　she　shrank　from　the　press　of　men；　all　men；
all　in　heavy；　filthy　boots；　and　leathern　leggins。　And　the　road
underfoot　was　all　nasty　with　cowmuck。　And　it　frightened　her　to
see　the　cattle　in　the　square　pens；　so　many　horns；　and　so　little
enclosure；　and　such　a　madness　of　men　and　a　yelling　of　drovers。
Also　she　felt　her　father　was　embarrassed　by　her；　and
illatease。

He　brought　her　a　cake　at　the　refreshmentbooth；　and　set　her
on　a　seat。　A　man　hailed　him。

〃Good　morning；　Tom。　That　thine；　then？〃and　the
bearded　farmer　jerked　his　head　at　Anna。

〃Ay；〃　said　Brangwen；　deprecating。

〃I　didna　know　tha'd　one　that　old。〃

〃No；　it's　my　missis's。〃

〃Oh；　that's　it！〃　And　the　man　looked　at　Anna　as　if　she　were
some　odd　little　cattle。　She　glowered　with　black　eyes。

Brangwen　left　her　there；　in　charge　of　the　barman；　whilst　he
went　to　see　about　the　selling　of　some　young　stirks。　Farmers；
butchers；　drovers；　dirty；　uncouth　men　from　whom　she　shrank
instinctively　stared　down　at　her　as　she　sat　on　her　seat；　then
went　to　get　their　drink；　talking　in　unabated　tones。　All　was　big
and　violent　about　her。

〃Whose　child　met　that　be？〃　they　asked　of　the　barman。

〃It　belongs　to　Tom　Brangwen。〃

The　child　sat　on　in　neglect；　watching　the　door　for　her
father。　He　never　came；　many；　many　men　came；　but　not　he；　and　she
sat　like　a　shadow。　She　knew　one　did　not　cry　in　such　a　place。　And
every　man　looked　at　her　inquisitively；　she　shut　herself　away
from　them。

A　deep；　gathering　coldness　of　isolation　took　hold　on　her。　He
was　never　ing　back。　She　sat　on；　frozen；　unmoving。

When　she　had　bee　blank　and　timeless　he　came；　and　she
slipped　off　her　seat　to　him；　like　one　e　back　from　the　dead。
He　had　sold　his　beast　as　quickly　as　he　could。　But　all　the
business　was　not　finished。　He　took　her　again　through　the
hurtling　welter　of　the　cattlemarket。

Then　at　last　they　turned　and　went　out　through　the　gate。　He
was　always　hailing　one　man　or　another；　always　stopping　to　gossip
about　land　and　cattle　and　horses　and　other　things　she　did　not
understand；　standing　in　the　filth　and　the　smell；　among　the　legs
and　great　boots　of　men。　And　always　she　heard　the　questions：

〃What　lass　is　that；　then？　I　didn't　know　tha'd　one　o'　that
age。〃

〃It　belongs　to　my　missis。〃

Anna　was　very　conscious　of　her　derivation　from　her　mother；　in
the　end；　and　of　her　alienat