The Rainbow-虹(英文版)-第51部分

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came　for　Anna　and　her　young　husband　to　pay　a　visit　to　Briswell
vicarage。　For　the　Skrebenskys　were　now　moderately　well　off；
Millicent　Skrebensky　having　some　fortune　of　her　own。

Anna　took　her　best　clothes；　recovered　her　best　highschool
manner；　and　arrived　with　her　husband。　Will　Brangwen；　ruddy；
bright；　with　long　limbs　and　a　small　head；　like　some　uncouth
bird；　was　not　changed　in　the　least。　The　little　Baroness　was
smiling；　showing　her　teeth。　She　had　a　real　charm；　a　kind　of
joyous　coldness；　laughing；　delighted；　like　some　weasel。　Anna　at
once　respected　her；　and　was　on　her　guard　before　her；
instinctively　attracted　by　the　strange；　childlike　surety　of　the
Baroness；　yet　mistrusting　it；　fascinated。　The　little　baron　was
now　quite　whitehaired；　very　brittle。　He　was　wizened　and
wrinkled；　yet　fiery；　unsubdued。　Anna　looked　at　his　lean　body；　at
his　small；　fine　lean　legs　and　lean　hands　as　he　sat　talking；　and
she　flushed。　She　recognized　the　quality　of　the　male　in　him；　his
lean；　concentrated　age；　his　informed　fire；　his　faculty　for
sharp；　deliberate　response。　He　was　so　detached；　so　purely
objective。　A　woman　was　thoroughly　outside　him。　There　was　no
confusion。　So　he　could　give　that　fine；　deliberate　response。

He　was　something　separate　and　interesting；　his　hard；
intrinsic　being；　whittled　down　by　age　to　an　essentiality　and　a
directness　almost　deathlike；　cruel；　was　yet　so　unswervingly
sure　in　its　action；　so　distinct　in　its　surety；　that　she　was
attracted　to　him。　She　watched　his　cool；　hard；　separate　fire；
fascinated　by　it。　Would　she　rather　have　it　than　her　husband's
diffuse　heat；　than　his　blind；　hot　youth？

She　seemed　to　be　breathing　high；　sharp　air；　as　if　she　had
just　e　out　of　a　hot　room。　These　strange　Skrebenskys　made　her
aware　of　another；　freer　element；　in　which　each　person　was
detached　and　isolated。　Was　not　this　her　natural　element？　Was　not
the　close　Brangwen　life　stifling　her？

Meanwhile　the　little　baroness；　with　always　a　subtle　light
stirring　of　her　full；　lustrous；　hazel　eyes；　was　playing　with
Will　Brangwen。　He　was　not　quick　enough　to　see　all　her　movements。
Yet　he　watched　her　steadily；　with　unchanging；　litup　eyes。　She
was　a　strange　creature　to　him。　But　she　had　no　power　over　him。
She　flushed；　and　was　irritated。　Yet　she　glanced　again　and　again
at　his　dark；　living　face；　curiously；　as　if　she　despised　him。　She
despised　his　uncritical；　unironical　nature；　it　had　nothing　for
her。　Yet　it　angered　her　as　if　she　were　jealous。　He　watched　her
with　deferential　interest　as　he　would　watch　a　stoat　playing。　But
he　himself　was　not　implicated。　He　was　different　in　kind。　She　was
all　lambent；　biting　flames；　he　was　a　red　fire　glowing　steadily。
She　could　get　nothing　out　of　him。　So　she　made　him　flush　darkly
by　assuming　a　biting；　subtle　classsuperiority。　He　flushed；　but
still　he　did　not　object。　He　was　too　different。

Her　little　boy　came　in　with　the　nurse。　He　was　a　quick；　slight
child；　with　fine　perceptiveness；　and　a　cool　transitoriness　in
his　interest。　At　once　he　treated　Will　Brangwen　as　an　outsider。
He　stayed　by　Anna　for　a　moment；　acknowledged　her；　then　was　gone
again；　quick；　observant；　restless；　with　a　glance　of　interest　at
everything。

The　father　adored　him；　and　spoke　to　him　in　Polish。　It　was
queer；　the　stiff；　aristocratic　manner　of　the　father　with　the
child；　the　distance　in　the　relationship；　the　classic　fatherhood
on　the　one　hand；　the　filial　subordination　on　the　other。　They
played　together；　in　their　different　degrees　very　separate；　two
different　beings；　differing　as　it　were　in　rank　rather　than　in
relationship。　And　the　baroness　smiled；　smiled；　smiled；　always
smiled；　showing　her　rather　protruding　teeth；　having　always　a
mysterious　attraction　and　charm。

Anna　realized　how　different　her　own　life　might　have　been；　how
different　her　own　living。　Her　soul　stirred；　she　became　as
another　person。　Her　intimacy　with　her　husband　passed　away；　the
curious　enveloping　Brangwen　intimacy；　so　warm；　so　close；　so
stifling；　when　one　seemed　always　to　be　in　contact　with　the　other
person；　like　a　bloodrelation；　was　annulled。　She　denied　it；　this
close　relationship　with　her　young　husband。　He　and　she　were　not
one。　His　heat　was　not　always　to　suffuse　her；　suffuse　her；
through　her　mind　and　her　individuality；　till　she　was　of　one　heat
with　him；　till　she　had　not　her　own　self　apart。　She　wanted　her
own　life。　He　seemed　to　lap　her　and　suffuse　her　with　his　being；
his　hot　life；　till　she　did　not　know　whether　she　were　herself；　or
whether　she　were　another　creature；　united　with　him　in　a　world　of
close　bloodintimacy　that　closed　over　her　and　excluded　her　from
all　the　cool　outside。

She　wanted　her　own；　old；　sharp　self；　detached；　detached；
active　but　not　absorbed；　active　for　her　own　part；　taking　and
giving；　but　never　absorbed。　Whereas　he　wanted　this　strange
absorption　with　her；　which　still　she　resisted。　But　she　was
partly　helpless　against　it。　She　had　lived　so　long　in　Tom
Brangwen's　love；　beforehand。

From　the　Skrebensky's；　they　went　to　Will　Brangwen's　beloved
Lincoln　Cathedral；　because　it　was　not　far　off。　He　had　promised
her；　that　one　by　one；　they　should　visit　all　the　cathedrals　of
England。　They　began　with　Lincoln；　which　he　knew　well。

He　began　to　get　excited　as　the　time　drew　near　to　set　off。
What　was　it　that　changed　him　so　much？　She　was　almost　angry；
ing　as　she　did　from　the　Skrebensky's。　But　now　he　ran　on
alone。　His　very　breast　seemed　to　open　its　doors　to　watch　for　the
great　church　brooding　over　the　town。　His　soul　ran　ahead。

When　he　saw　the　cathedral　in　the　distance；　dark　blue　lifted
watchful　in　the　sky；　his　heart　leapt。　It　was　the　sign　in　heaven；
it　was　the　Spirit　hovering　like　a　dove；　like　an　eagle　over　the
earth。　He　turned　his　glowing；　ecstatic　face　to　her；　his　mouth
opened　with　a　strange；　ecstatic　grin。

〃There　she　is；〃　he　said。

The　〃she〃　irritated　her。　Why　〃she〃？　It　was　〃it〃。　What　was　the
cathedral；　a　big　building；　a　thing　of　the　past；　obsolete；　to
excite　him　to　such　a　pitch？　She　began　to　stir　herself　to
readiness。

They　passed　up　the　steep　hill；　he　eager　as　a　pilgrim　arriving
at　the　shrine。　As　they　came　near　the　precincts；　with　castle　on
one　side　and　cathedral　on　the　other；　his　veins　seemed　to　break
into　fiery　blossom；　he　was　transported。

They　had　passed　through　the　gate；　and　the　great　west　front
was　before　them；　with　all　its　breadth　and　ornament。

〃It　is　a　false　front；〃　he　said；　looking　at　the　golden　stone
and　the　twin　towers；　and　loving　them　just　the　same。　In　a　little
ecstasy　he　found　himself　in　the　porch；　on　the　brink　of　the
unrevealed。　He　looked　up　to　the　lovely　unfolding　of　the　stone。
He　was　to　pass　within　to　the　perfect　womb。

Then　he　pushed　open　the　door；　and　the　great；　pillared　gloom
was　before　him；　in　which　his　soul　shuddered　and　rose　from　her
nest。　His　soul　leapt；　soared　up　into　the　great　church。　His　body
stood　still；　absorbed　by　the　height。　His　soul　leapt　up　into　the
gloom；　into　possession；　it　reeled；　it　swooned　with　a　great
escape；　it　quivered　in　the　womb；　in　the　hush　and　the　gloom　of
fecundity；　like　seed　of　procreation　in　ecstasy。

She　too　was　overe　with　wonder　and　awe。　She　followed　him　in
his　progress。　Here；　the　twilight　was　the　very　essence　of　life；
the　coloured　darkness　was　the　embryo　of　all　light；　and　the　day。
Here；　the　very　first　dawn　was　breaking；　the　very　last　sunset
sinking；　and　the　immemorial　darkness；　whereof　life's　day　would
blossom　and　fall　away　again；　reechoed　peace　and　profound
immemorial　silence。

Away　from　time；　always　outside　of　time！　Between　east　and
west；　between　dawn　and　sunset；　the　church　lay　like　a　seed　in
silence；　dark　before　germination；　silenced　after　death。
Containing　birth　and　death；　potential　with　all　the　noise　and
transition　of　life；　the　cathedral　remained　hushed；　a　great；
involved　seed；　whereof　the　flower　would　be　radiant　life
inconceivable；　but　whose　beginning　and　whose　end　were　the　circle
of　silence。　Spanned　round　with　the　rainbow；　the　jewelled　gloom
folded　music　upon　silence；　light　upon　darkness；　fecundity　upon
death；　as　a　seed　folds　leaf　upon　leaf　and　silence　upon　the　root
and　the　flower；　hushing　up　the　secret　of　all　between　its　parts；
the　death　out　of　which　it　fell；　the　life　into　which　it　has
dropped；　the　immortality　it