The Rainbow-虹(英文版)-第66部分

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her　throat　out；　what　difference　can　it　make？　The　man's　sold　to
his　job。　So　the　women　don't　bother。　They　take　what　they　can
catchand　vogue　la　galere。〃

〃Aren't　they　very　strict　here？〃　asked　Miss　Inger。

〃Oh；　no。　Mrs。　Smith　has　two　sisters　who　have　just　changed
husbands。　They're　not　very　particularneither　are　they
very　interested。　They　go　dragging　along　what　is　left　from　the
pits。　They're　not　interested　enough　to　be　very　immoralit
all　amounts　to　the　same　thing；　moral　or　immoraljust　a
question　of　pitwages。　The　most　moral　duke　in　England　makes　two
hundred　thousand　a　year　out　of　these　pits。　He　keeps　the　morality
end　up。〃

Ursula　sat　blacksouled　and　very　bitter；　hearing　the　two　of
them　talk。　There　seemed　something　ghoulish　even　in　their　very
deploring　of　the　state　of　things。　They　seemed　to　take　a　ghoulish
satisfaction　in　it。　The　pit　was　the　great　mistress。　Ursula
looked　out　of　the　window　and　saw　the　proud；　demonlike　colliery
with　her　wheels　twinkling　in　the　heavens；　the　formless；　squalid
mass　of　the　town　lying　aside。　It　was　the　squalid　heap　of
sideshows。　The　pit　was　the　main　show；　the　raison　d'etre
of　all。

How　terrible　it　was！　There　was　a　horrible　fascination
in　ithuman　bodies　and　lives　subjected　in　slavery　to　that
symmetric　monster　of　the　colliery。　There　was　a　swooning；
perverse　satisfaction　in　it。　For　a　moment　she　was　dizzy。

Then　she　recovered；　felt　herself　in　a　great　loneliness；
wherein　she　was　sad　but　free。　She　had　departed。　No　more　would
she　subscribe　to　the　great　colliery；　to　the　great　machine　which
has　taken　us　all　captives。　In　her　soul；　she　was　against　it；　she
disowned　even　its　power。　It　had　only　to　be　forsaken　to　be　inane；
meaningless。　And　she　knew　it　was　meaningless。　But　it　needed　a
great；　passionate　effort　of　will　on　her　part；　seeing　the
colliery；　still　to　maintain　her　knowledge　that　it　was
meaningless。

But　her　Uncle　Tom　and　her　mistress　remained　there　among　the
horde；　cynically　reviling　the　monstrous　state　and　yet　adhering
to　it；　like　a　man　who　reviles　his　mistress；　yet　who　is　in　love
with　her。　She　knew　her　Uncle　Tom　perceived　what　was　going　on。
But　she　knew　moreover　that　in　spite　of　his　criticism　and
condemnation；　he　still　wanted　the　great　machine。　His　only　happy
moments；　his　only　moments　of　pure　freedom　were　when　he　was
serving　the　machine。　Then；　and　then　only；　when　the　machine
caught　him　up；　was　he　free　from　the　hatred　of　himself；　could　he
act　wholely；　without　cynicism　and　unreality。

His　real　mistress　was　the　machine；　and　the　real　mistress　of
Winifred　was　the　machine。　She　too；　Winifred；　worshipped　the
impure　abstraction；　the　mechanisms　of　matter。　There；　there；　in
the　machine；　in　service　of　the　machine；　was　she　free　from　the
clog　and　degradation　of　human　feeling。　There；　in　the　monstrous
mechanism　that　held　all　matter；　living　or　dead；　in　its　service；
did　she　achieve　her　consummation　and　her　perfect　unison；　her
immortality。

Hatred　sprang　up　in　Ursula's　heart。　If　she　could　she　would
smash　the　machine。　Her　soul's　action　should　be　the　smashing　of
the　great　machine。　If　she　could　destroy　the　colliery；　and　make
all　the　men　of　Wiggiston　out　of　work；　she　would　do　it。　Let　them
starve　and　grub　in　the　earth　for　roots；　rather　than　serve　such　a
Moloch　as　this。

She　hated　her　Uncle　Tom；　she　hated　Winifred　Inger。　They　went
down　to　the　summerhouse　for　tea。　It　was　a　pleasant　place　among
a　few　trees；　at　the　end　of　a　tiny　garden；　on　the　edge　of　a
field。　Her　Uncle　Tom　and　Winifred　seemed　to　jeer　at　her；　to
cheapen　her。　She　was　miserable　and　desolate。　But　she　would　never
give　way。

Her　coldness　for　Winifred　should　never　cease。　She　knew　it　was
over　between　them。　She　saw　gross；　ugly　movements　in　her
mistress；　she　saw　a　clayey；　inert；　unquickened　flesh；　that
reminded　her　of　the　great　prehistoric　lizards。　One　day　her　Uncle
Tom　came　in　out　of　the　broiling　sunshine　heated　from　walking。
Then　the　perspiration　stood　out　upon　his　head　and　brow；　his　hand
was　wet　and　hot　and　suffocating　in　its　clasp。　He　too　had
something　marshy　about　himthe　succulent　moistness　and
turgidity；　and　the　same　brackish；　nauseating　effect　of　a　marsh；
where　life　and　decaying　are　one。

He　was　repellent　to　her；　who　was　so　dry　and　fine　in　her　fire。
Her　very　bones　seemed　to　bid　him　keep　his　distance　from　her。

It　was　in　these　weeks　that　Ursula　grew　up。　She　stayed　two
weeks　at　Wiggiston；　and　she　hated　it。　All　was　grey；　dry　ash；
cold　and　dead　and　ugly。　But　she　stayed。　She　stayed　also　to　get
rid　of　Winifred。　The　girl's　hatred　and　her　sense　of
repulsiveness　in　her　mistress　and　in　her　uncle　seemed　to　throw
the　other　two　together。　They　drew　together　as　if　against
her。

In　hardness　and　bitterness　of　soul；　Ursula　knew　that　Winifred
was　bee　her　uncle's　lover。　She　was　glad。　She　had　loved　them
both。　Now　she　wanted　to　be　rid　of　them　both。　Their　marshy；
bittersweet　corruption　came　sick　and　unwholesome　in　her
nostrils。　Anything；　to　get　out　of　the　foetid　air。　She　would
leave　them　both　for　ever；　leave　for　ever　their　strange；　soft；
halfcorrupt　element。　Anything　to　get　away。

One　night　Winifred　came　all　burning　into　Ursula's　bed；　and
put　her　arms　round　the　girl；　holding　her　to　herself　in　spite　of
unwillingness；　and　said；

〃Dear；　my　dearshall　I　marry　Mr。　Brangwenshall
I？〃

The　clinging；　heavy；　muddy　question　weighed　on　Ursula
intolerably。

〃Has　he　asked　you？〃　she　said；　using　all　her　might　of　hard
resistance。

〃He's　asked　me；〃　said　Winifred。　〃Do　you　want　me　to　marry　him；
Ursula？〃

〃Yes；〃　said　Ursula。

The　arms　tightened　more　on　her。

〃I　knew　you　did；　my　sweetand　I　will　marry　him。　You're
fond　of　him；　aren't　you？〃

〃I've　been　awfully　fond　of　himever　since　I　was
a　child。〃

〃I　knowI　know。　I　can　see　what　you　like　in　him。　He　is　a
man　by　himself；　he　has　something　apart　from　the　rest。〃

〃Yes；〃　said　Ursula。

〃But　he's　not　like　you；　my　dearha；　he's　not　as　good　as
you。　There's　something　even　objectionable　in　himhis　thick
thighs〃

Ursula　was　silent。

〃But　I'll　marry　him；　my　dearit　will　be　best。　Now　say
you　love　me。〃

A　sort　of　profession　was　extorted　out　of　the　girl。
Nevertheless　her　mistress　went　away　sighing；　to　weep　in　her　own
chamber。

In　two　days'　time　Ursula　left　Wiggiston。　Miss　Inger　went　to
Nottingham。　There　was　an　engagement　between　her　and　Tom
Brangwen；　which　the　uncle　seemed　to　vaunt　as　if　it　were　an
assurance　of　his　validity。

Brangwen　and　Winifred　Inger　continued　engaged　for　another
term。　Then　they　married。　Brangwen　had　reached　the　age　when　he
wanted　children。　He　wanted　children。　Neither　marriage　nor　the
domestic　establishment　meant　anything　to　him。　He　wanted　to
propagate　himself。　He　knew　what　he　was　doing。　He　had　the
instinct　of　a　growing　inertia；　of　a　thing　that　chooses　its　place
of　rest　in　which　to　lapse　into　apathy；　plete；　profound
indifference。　He　would　let　the　machinery　carry　him；　husband；
father；　pitmanager；　warm　clay　lifted　through　the　recurrent
action　of　day　after　day　by　the　great　machine　from　which　it
derived　its　motion。　As　for　Winifred；　she　was　an　educated　woman；
and　of　the　same　sort　as　himself。　She　would　make　a　good
panion。　She　was　his　mate。



CHAPTER　XIII

THE　MAN'S　WORLD

Ursula　came　back　to　Cossethay　to　fight　with　her　mother。　Her
schooldays　were　over。　She　had　passed　the　matriculation
examination。　Now　she　came　home　to　face　that　empty　period　between
school　and　possible　marriage。

At　first　she　thought　it　would　be　just　like　holidays　all　the
time；　she　would　feel　just　free。　Her　soul　was　in　chaos；　blinded
suffering；　maimed。　She　had　no　will　left　to　think　about　herself。
For　a　time　she　must　just　lapse。

But　very　shortly　she　found　herself　up　against　her　mother。　Her
mother　had；　at　this　time；　the　power　to　irritate　and　madden　the
girl　continuously。　There　were　already　seven　children；　yet　Mrs。
Brangwen　was　again　with　child；　the　ninth　she　had　borne。　One　had
died　of　diphtheria　in　infancy。

Even　this　fact　of　her　mother's　pregnancy　enraged　the　eldest
girl。　Mrs。　Brangwen　was　so　placent；　so　utterly　fulfilled　in
her　breeding。　She　would　not　have　the　existence　at　all　of
anything　but　the　immediate；　physical；　mon　things。　Ursula
inflamed　in　soul；　was　suffering　all　the　anguish　of　youth's
reaching　for　some　unknown　ordeal；　that　it　can't　grasp；　can't
even　distinguish　or　conceive。　Maddened；　she　was　fighting　all　the
darkness　she　was　up　against。　And　part　of　this　darkness　was　her
mother。　To　limit；　as　her　mother　did；　everything　to　the　ring　of
physical　considerations；　and　placently　to　reject　the　reality
of　anything　else；　was　horrible。　Not　a　thing　did　Mrs。　Brangwen
care　about；　but　the　children；　the　house；　and　a　little　local
gossip。　And　she　would　not　be　touched；　she　would　let
nothing　else　live　near　her。　She　went　about；　big　with　child；
slovenly；　easy；　having　a　certain　lax　dignity；　taking　her　own
time；　pleasing　herself；　always；　always　doing　things　for　the
children；　and　feeling　that　she　thereby　fulfilled　the　whole　of
womanhood。

This　long　trance　of　placent　childbearing　had　kept　her
young　and　undeveloped。　She　was　scarcely　a　day　older　than　when
Gudrun　was　born。　All　these　years　nothing　had　happened　save　the
ing　of　the　children；　nothing　had　mattered　but　the　bodies　of
her　babies。　As　her　children　came　into　consciousness；　as　they
began　to　suffer　their　own　fulfilment；　she　cast　them　off。　But　she
remained　dominant　in　the　house。　Brangwen　continued　in　a　kind　of
rich　drowse　of　physical　heat；　in　connection　with　his　wife。　They
were　neither　of　them　quite　personal；　quite　defined　as
individuals；　so　much　were　they　pervaded　by　the　physical　heat　of
breeding　and　rearing　their　young。

How　Ursula　resented　it；　how　she　fought　against　the　close；
physical；　limited　life　of　herded　domesticity！　Calm；　placid；
unshakeable　as　ever；　Mrs。　Brangwen　went　about　in　her　dominance
of　physical　maternity。

There　were　battles。　Ursula　would　fight　for　things　that
mattered　to　her。　She　would　have　the　children　less　rude　and
tyrannical；　she　would　have　a　place　in　the　house。　But　her
mother　pulled　her　down；　pulled　her　down。　With　all　the　cunning
instinct　of　a　breeding　animal；　Mrs。　Brangwen　ridiculed　and　held
cheap　Ursula's　passions；　her　ideas；　her　pronunciations。　Ursula
would　try　to　insist；　in　her　own　home；　on　the　right　of　women　to
take　equal　place　with　men　in　the　field　of　action　and　work。

〃Ay；〃　said　the　mother；　〃there's　a　good　crop　of　stockings
lying　ripe　for　mending。　Let　that　be　your　field　of　action。〃

Ursula　disliked　mending　stockings；　and　this　retort　maddened
her。　She　hated　her　mother　bitterly。　After　a　few　weeks　of
enforced　domestic　life；　she　had　had　enough　of　her　home。　The
monness；　the　triviality；　the　immediate　meaninglessness　of　it
all　drove　her　to　frenzy。　She　talked　and　stormed　ideas；　she
corrected　and　nagged　at　the　children；　she　turned　her　back　in
silent　contempt　on　her　breeding　mother；　who　treated　her　with
supercilious　indifference；　as　if　she　were　a　pretentious　child
not　to　be　taken　seriously。

Brangwen　was　sometimes　dragged　into　the　trouble。　He　loved
Ursula；　therefore　he　always　had　a　sense　of　shame；　almost　of
betrayal；　when　he　turned　on　her。　So　he　turned　fiercely　and
scathingly；　and　with　a　wholesale　brutality　that　made　Ursula　go
white；　mute；　and　numb。　Her　feelings　seemed　to　be　being
deadened　in　her；　her　temper　hard　and　cold。

Brangwen