The Rainbow-虹(英文版)-第43部分

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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　churchyard
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　fullbutt　over　the
round　of　the　hill；　tearing　the　wet　garments　out　of　her　hands；
making　flapflapflap　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
weekdays；　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
deeplycoloured；　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
newcreated；　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
fot　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　him。　He　was　always　ready　to　burst　out
murderously　against　her。　Her　soul　got　up　and　left　him；　she　went
her　way。　Nevertheless　in　her　apparent　blitheness；　that　made　his
soul　black　with　opposition；　she　trembled　as　if　she　bled。

And　ever　and　again；　the　pure　love　came　in　sunbeams　between
them；　when　she　was　like　a　flower　in　the　sun　to　him；　so
beautiful；　so　shining；　so　intensely　dear　that　he　could　scarcely
bear　it。　Then　as　if　his　soul　had　six　wings　of　bliss　he　stood
absorbed　in　praise；　feeling　the　radiance　from　the　Almighty　beat
through　him　like　a　pulse；　as　he　stood　in　the　upright　flame　of
praise；　transmitting　the　pulse　of　Creation。

And　ever　and　again　he　appeared　to　her　as　the　dread　flame　of
power。　Sometimes；　when　he　stood　in　the　doorway；　his　face　lit　up；
he　seemed　like　an　Annunciation　to　her；　her　heart　beat　fast。　And
she　watched　him；　suspended。　He　had　a　dark；　burning　being　that
she　dreaded　and　resisted。　She　was　subject　to　him　as　to　the　Angel
of　the　Presence。　She　waited　upon　him　and　heard　his　will；　and　she
trembled　in　his　service。

Then　all　this　passed　away。　Then　he　loved　her　for　her
childishness　and　for　her　strangeness　to　him；　for　the　wonder　of
her　soul　which　was　different　from　his　soul；　and　which　made　him
genuine　when　he　would　be　false。　And　she　loved　him　for　the　way　he
sat　loosely　in　a　chair；　or　for　the　way　he　came　through　a　door
with　his　face　open　and　eager。　She　loved　his　ringing；　eager
voice；　and　the　touch　of　the　unknown　about　him；　his　absolute
simplicity。

Yet　neither　of　them　was　quite　satisfied。　He　felt；　somewhere；
that　she　did　not　respect　him。　She　only　respected　him　as　far　as
he　was　related　to　herself。　For　what　he　was；　beyond　her；　she　had
no　care。　She　did　not　care　for　what　he　represented　in　himself。　It
is　true；　he　did　not　know　himself　what　he　represented。　But
whatever　it　was　she　did　not　really　honour　it。　She　did　no　service
to　his　work　as　a　lacedesigner；　nor　to　himself　as　breadwinner。
Because　he　went　down　to　the　office　and　worked　every
daythat　entitled　him　to　no　respect　or　regard　from　her；　he
knew。　Rather　she　despised　him　for　it。　And　he　almost　loved　her
for　this；　though　at　first　it　maddened　him　like　an　insult。

What　was　much　deeper；　she　soon　came　to　bat　his　deepest
feelings。　What　he　thought　about　life　and　about　society　and
mankind　did　not　matter　very　much　to　her：　he　was　right　enough　to
be　insignificant。　This　was　again　galling　to　him。　She　would　judge
beyond　him　on　these　things。　But　at　length　he　came　to　accept　her
judgments；　discovering　them　as　if　they　were　his　own。　It　was　not
here　the　deep　trouble　lay。　The　deep　root　of　his　enmity　lay　in
the　fact　that　she　jeered　at　his　soul。　He　was　inarticulate　and
stupid　in　thought。　But　to　some　things　he　clung　passionately。　He
loved　the　Church。　If　she　tried　to　get　out　of　him；　what　he
believed；　then　they　were　both　soon　in　a　white　rage。

Did　he　believe　the　water　turned　to　wine　at　Cana？　She　would
drive　him　to　the　thing　as　a　historical　fact：　so　much
rainwaterlook　at　itcan　it　bee　grapejuice；　wine？　For
an　instant；　he　saw　with　the　clear　eyes　of　the　mind　and　said　no；
his　clear