The Rainbow-虹(英文版)-第2部分

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The　curate　was　poor　enough；　and　not　very　efficacious　as　a
man；　either；　yet　he　took　rank　with　those　others；　the　superior。
She　watched　his　children　being　born；　she　saw　them　running　as
tiny　things　beside　their　mother。　And　already　they　were　separate
from　her　own　children；　distinct。　Why　were　her　own　children
marked　below　the　others？　Why　should　the　curate's　children
inevitably　take　precedence　over　her　children；　why　should
dominance　be　given　them　from　the　start？　It　was　not　money；　nor
even　class。　It　was　education　and　experience；　she　decided。

It　was　this；　this　education；　this　higher　form　of　being；　that
the　mother　wished　to　give　to　her　children；　so　that　they　too
could　live　the　supreme　life　on　earth。　For　her　children；　at　least
the　children　of　her　heart；　had　the　plete　nature　that　should
take　place　in　equality　with　the　living；　vital　people　in　the
land；　not　be　left　behind　obscure　among　the　labourers。　Why　must
they　remain　obscured　and　stifled　all　their　lives；　why　should
they　suffer　from　lack　of　freedom　to　move？　How　should　they　learn
the　entry　into　the　finer；　more　vivid　circle　of　life？

Her　imagination　was　fired　by　the　squire's　lady　at　Shelly
Hall；　who　came　to　church　at　Cossethay　with　her　little　children；
girls　in　tidy　capes　of　beaver　fur；　and　smart　little　hats；
herself　like　a　winter　rose；　so　fair　and　delicate。　So　fair；　so
fine　in　mould；　so　luminous；　what　was　it　that　Mrs。　Hardy　felt
which　she；　Mrs。　Brangwen；　did　not　feel？　How　was　Mrs。　Hardy's
nature　different　from　that　of　the　mon　women　of　Cossethay；　in
what　was　it　beyond　them？　All　the　women　of　Cossethay　talked
eagerly　about　Mrs。　Hardy；　of　her　husband；　her　children；　her
guests；　her　dress；　of　her　servants　and　her　housekeeping。　The
lady　of　the　Hall　was　the　living　dream　of　their　lives；　her　life
was　the　epic　that　inspired　their　lives。　In　her　they　lived
imaginatively；　and　in　gossiping　of　her　husband　who　drank；　of　her
scandalous　brother；　of　Lord　William　Bentley　her　friend；　member
of　Parliament　for　the　division；　they　had　their　own　Odyssey
enacting　itself；　Penelope　and　Ulysses　before　them；　and　Circe　and
the　swine　and　the　endless　web。

So　the　women　of　the　village　were　fortunate。　They　saw
themselves　in　the　lady　of　the　manor；　each　of　them　lived　her　own
fulfilment　of　the　life　of　Mrs。　Hardy。　And　the　Brangwen　wife　of
the　Marsh　aspired　beyond　herself；　towards　the　further　life　of
the　finer　woman；　towards　the　extended　being　she　revealed；　as　a
traveller　in　his　selfcontained　manner　reveals　faroff　countries
present　in　himself。　But　why　should　a　knowledge　of　faroff
countries　make　a　man's　life　a　different　thing；　finer；　bigger？
And　why　is　a　man　more　than　the　beast　and　the　cattle　that　serve
him？　It　is　the　same　thing。

The　male　part　of　the　poem　was　filled　in　by　such　men　as　the
vicar　and　Lord　William；　lean；　eager　men　with　strange　movements；
men　who　had　mand　of　the　further　fields；　whose　lives　ranged
over　a　great　extent。　Ah；　it　was　something　very　desirable　to
know；　this　touch　of　the　wonderful　men　who　had　the　power　of
thought　and　prehension。　The　women　of　the　village　might　be
much　fonder　of　Tom　Brangwen；　and　more　at　their　ease　with　him；
yet　if　their　lives　had　been　robbed　of　the　vicar；　and　of　Lord
William；　the　leading　shoot　would　have　been　cut　away　from　them；
they　would　have　been　heavy　and　uninspired　and　inclined　to　hate。
So　long　as　the　wonder　of　the　beyond　was　before　them；　they　could
get　along；　whatever　their　lot。　And　Mrs。　Hardy；　and　the　vicar；
and　Lord　William；　these　moved　in　the　wonder　of　the　beyond；　and
were　visible　to　the　eyes　of　Cossethay　in　their　motion。

II

About　1840；　a　canal　was　constructed　across　the　meadows　of　the
Marsh　Farm；　connecting　the　newlyopened　collieries　of　the
Erewash　Valley。　A　high　embankment　travelled　along　the　fields　to
carry　the　canal；　which　passed　close　to　the　homestead；　and；
reaching　the　road；　went　over　in　a　heavy　bridge。

So　the　Marsh　was　shut　off　from　Ilkeston；　and　enclosed　in　the
small　valley　bed；　which　ended　in　a　bushy　hill　and　the　village
spire　of　Cossethay。

The　Brangwens　received　a　fair　sum　of　money　from　this　trespass
across　their　land。　Then；　a　short　time　afterwards；　a　colliery　was
sunk　on　the　other　side　of　the　canal；　and　in　a　while　the　Midland
Railway　came　down　the　valley　at　the　foot　of　the　Ilkeston　hill；
and　the　invasion　was　plete。　The　town　grew　rapidly；　the
Brangwens　were　kept　busy　producing　supplies；　they　became　richer；
they　were　almost　tradesmen。

Still　the　Marsh　remained　remote　and　original；　on　the　old；
quiet　side　of　the　canal　embankment；　in　the　sunny　valley　where
slow　water　wound　along　in　pany　of　stiff　alders；　and　the　road
went　under　ashtrees　past　the　Brangwens'　garden　gate。

But；　looking　from　the　garden　gate　down　the　road　to　the　right；
there；　through　the　dark　archway　of　the　canal's　square　aqueduct；
was　a　colliery　spinning　away　in　the　near　distance；　and　further；
red；　crude　houses　plastered　on　the　valley　in　masses；　and　beyond
all；　the　dim　smoking　hill　of　the　town。

The　homestead　was　just　on　the　safe　side　of　civilization；
outside　the　gate。　The　house　stood　bare　from　the　road；　approached
by　a　straight　garden　path；　along　which　at　spring　the　daffodils
were　thick　in　green　and　yellow。　At　the　sides　of　the　house　were
bushes　of　lilac　and　guelderrose　and　privet；　entirely　hiding　the
farm　buildings　behind。

At　the　back　a　confusion　of　sheds　spread　into　the　homeclose
from　out　of　two　or　three　indistinct　yards。　The　duckpond　lay
beyond　the　furthest　wall；　littering　its　white　feathers　on　the
padded　earthen　banks；　blowing　its　stray　soiled　feathers　into　the
grass　and　the　gorse　bushes　below　the　canal　embankment；　which
rose　like　a　high　rampart　near　at　hand；　so　that　occasionally　a
man's　figure　passed　in　silhouette；　or　a　man　and　a　towing　horse
traversed　the　sky。

At　first　the　Brangwens　were　astonished　by　all　this　motion
around　them。　The　building　of　a　canal　across　their　land　made　them
strangers　in　their　own　place；　this　raw　bank　of　earth　shutting
them　off　disconcerted　them。　As　they　worked　in　the　fields；　from
beyond　the　now　familiar　embankment　came　the　rhythmic　run　of　the
winding　engines；　startling　at　first；　but　afterwards　a　narcotic
to　the　brain。　Then　the　shrill　whistle　of　the　trains　reechoed
through　the　heart；　with　fearsome　pleasure；　announcing　the
faroff　e　near　and　imminent。

As　they　drove　home　from　town；　the　farmers　of　the　land　met　the
blackened　colliers　trooping　from　the　pitmouth。　As　they　gathered
the　harvest；　the　west　wind　brought　a　faint；　sulphurous　smell　of
pitrefuse　burning。　As　they　pulled　the　turnips　in　November；　the
sharp　clinkclinkclinkclinkclink　of　empty　trucks　shunting　on
the　line；　vibrated　in　their　hearts　with　the　fact　of　other
activity　going　on　beyond　them。

The　Alfred　Brangwen　of　this　period　had　married　a　woman　from
Heanor；　a　daughter　of　the　〃Black　Horse〃。　She　was　a　slim；　pretty；
dark　woman；　quaint　in　her　speech；　whimsical；　so　that　the　sharp
things　she　said　did　not　hurt。　She　was　oddly　a　thing　to　herself；
rather　querulous　in　her　manner；　but　intrinsically　separate　and
indifferent；　so　that　her　long　lamentable　plaints；　when　she
raised　her　voice　against　her　husband　in　particular　and　against
everybody　else　after　him；　only　made　those　who　heard　her　wonder
and　feel　affectionately　towards　her；　even　while　they　were
irritated　and　impatient　with　her。　She　railed　long　and　loud　about
her　husband；　but　always　with　a　balanced；　easyflying　voice　and　a
quaint　manner　of　speech　that　warmed　his　belly　with　pride　and
male　triumph　while　he　scowled　with　mortification　at　the　things
she　said。

Consequently　Brangwen　himself　had　a　humorous　puckering　at　the
eyes；　a　sort　of　fat　laugh；　very　quiet　and　full；　and　he　was
spoilt　like　a　lord　of　creation。　He　calmly　did　as　he　liked；
laughed　at　their　railing；　excused　himself　in　a　teasing　tone　that
she　loved；　followed　his　natural　inclinations；　and　sometimes；
pricked　too　near　the　quick；　frightened　and　broke　her　by　a　deep；
tense　fury　which　seemed　to　fix　on　him　and　hold　him　for　days；　and
which　she　would　give　anything　to　placate　in　him。　They　were　two
very　separate　beings；　vitally　connected；　knowing　nothing　of　each
other；　yet　living　in　their　separate　ways　from　one　root。

There　were　four　sons　and　two　daughters。　The　eldest　boy　ran
away　early　to　sea；