。。 … s。。………【凌落无声】整理
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THE RAINBOW
BY D。 H。 LAWRENCE
THE
MODERN LIBRARY
NEW YORK
COPYRIGHT； 1915； BY D。 H。 LAWRENCE
Random House is the publisher of
THE MODERN LIBRARY
BENNETT A。 CERF ：： DONALD S。 KLOPFER ：： ROBERT K。 HAAS
Manufactured in the United States of America
Printed by Parkway Printing pany
Bound by H。 Wolff
TO ELSE
CONTENTS
I How Tom Brangwen Married a Polish Lady
II They Live at the Marsh
III Childhood of Anna Lensky
IV Girlhood of Anna Brangwen
V Wedding at the Marsh
VI Anna Victrix
VII The Cathedral
VIII The Child
IX The Marsh and the Flood
X The Widening Circle
XI First Love
XXII Shame
XIII The Man's World
XIV The Widening Circle
XV The Bitterness of Ecstasy
XVI The Rainbow
THE RAINBOW
CHAPTER I
HOW TOM BRANGWEN MARRIED A POLISH LADY
I
The Brangwens had lived for generations on the Marsh Farm； in
the meadows where the Erewash twisted sluggishly through alder
trees； separating Derbyshire from Nottinghamshire。 Two miles
away； a church…tower stood on a hill； the houses of the little
country town climbing assiduously up to it。 Whenever one of the
Brangwens in the fields lifted his head from his work； he saw
the church…tower at Ilkeston in the empty sky。 So that as he
turned again to the horizontal land； he was aware of something
standing above him and beyond him in the distance。
There was a look in the eyes of the Brangwens as if they were
expecting something unknown； about which they were eager。 They
had that air of readiness for what would e to them； a kind of
surety； an expectancy； the look of an inheritor。
They were fresh； blond； slow…speaking people； revealing
themselves plainly； but slowly； so that one could watch the
change in their eyes from laughter to anger； blue； lit…up
laughter； to a hard blue…staring anger； through all the
irresolute stages of the sky when the weather is changing。
Living on rich land； on their own land； near to a growing
town； they had forgotten what it was to be in straitened
circumstances。 They had never bee rich； because there were
always children； and the patrimony was divided every time。 But
always； at the Marsh； there was ample。
So the Brangwens came and went without fear of necessity；
working hard because of the life that was in them； not for want
of the money。 Neither were they thriftless。 They were aware of
the last halfpenny； and instinct made them not waste the peeling
of their apple； for it would help to feed the cattle。 But heaven
and earth was teeming around them； and how should this cease？
They felt the rush of the sap in spring； they knew the wave
which cannot halt； but every year throws forward the seed to
begetting； and； falling back； leaves the young…born on the
earth。 They knew the intercourse between heaven and earth；
sunshine drawn into the breast and bowels； the rain sucked up in
the daytime； nakedness that es under the wind in autumn；
showing the birds' nests no longer worth hiding。 Their life and
interrelations were such； feeling the pulse and body of the
soil； that opened to their furrow for the grain； and became
smooth and supple after their ploughing； and clung to their feet
with a weight that pulled like desire； lying hard and
unresponsive when the crops were to be shorn away。 The young
corn waved and was silken； and the lustre slid along the limbs
of the men who saw it。 They took the udder of the cows； the cows
yielded milk and pulse against the hands of the men； the pulse
of the blood of the teats of the cows beat into the pulse of the
hands of the men。 They mounted their horses； and held life
between the grip of their knees； they harnessed their horses at
the wagon； and； with hand on the bridle…rings； drew the heaving
of the horses after their will。
In autumn the partridges whirred up； birds in flocks blew
like spray across the fallow； rooks appeared on the grey； watery
heavens； and flew cawing into the winter。 Then the men sat by
the fire in the house where the women moved about with surety；
and the limbs and the body of the men were impregnated with the
day； cattle and earth and vegetation and the sky； the men sat by
the fire and their brains were inert； as their blood flowed
heavy with the accumulation from the living day。
The women were different。 On them too was the drowse of
blood…intimacy； calves sucking and hens running together in
droves； and young geese palpitating in the hand while the food
was pushed down their throttle。 But the women looked out from
the heated； blind intercourse of farm…life； to the spoken world
beyond。 They were aware of the lips and the mind of the world
speaking and giving utterance； they heard the sound in the
distance； and they strained to listen。
It was enough for the men； that the earth heaved and opened
its furrow to them； that the wind blew to dry the wet wheat； and
set the young ears of corn wheeling freshly round about； it was
enough that they helped the cow in labour； or ferreted the rats
from under the barn； or broke the back of a rabbit with a sharp
knock of the hand。 So much warmth and generating and pain and
death did they know in their blood； earth and sky and beast and
green plants； so much exchange and interchange they had with
these； that they lived full and surcharged； their senses full
fed； their faces always turned to the heat of the blood； staring
into the sun； dazed with looking towards the source of
generation； unable to turn round。
But the woman wanted another form of life than this；
something that was not blood…intimacy。 Her house faced out from
the farm…buildings and fields； looked out to the road and the
village with church and Hall and the world beyond。 She stood to
see the far…off world of cities and governments and the active
scope of man； the magic land to her； where secrets were made
known and desires fulfilled。 She faced outwards to where men
moved dominant and creative； having turned their back on the
pulsing heat of creation； and with this behind them； were set
out to discover what was beyond； to enlarge their own scope and
range and freedom； whereas the Brangwen men faced inwards to the
teeming life of creation； which poured unresolved into their
veins。
Looking out； as she must； from the front of her house towards
the activity of man in the world at large； whilst her husband
looked out to the back at sky and harvest and beast and land；
she strained her eyes to see what man had done in fighting
outwards to knowledge； she strained to hear how he uttered
himself in his conquest； her deepest desire hung on the battle
that she heard； far off； being waged on the edge of the unknown。
She also wanted to know； and to be of the fighting host。
At home； even so near as Cossethay； was the vicar； who spoke
the other； magic language； and had the other； finer bearing；
both of which she could perceive； but could never attain to。 The
vicar moved in worlds beyond where her own menfolk existed。 Did
she not know her own menfolk： fresh； slow； full…built men；
masterful enough； but easy； native to the earth； lacking
outwardness and range of motion。 Whereas the vicar； dark and dry
and small beside her husband； had yet a quickness and a range of
being that made Brangwen； in his large geniality； seem dull and
local。 She knew her husband。 But in the vicar's nature was that
which passed beyond her knowledge。 As Brangwen had power over
the cattle so the vicar had power over her husband。 What was it
in the vicar； that raised him above the mon men as man is
raised above the beast？ She craved to know。 She craved to
achieve this higher being； if not in herself； then in her
children。 That which makes a man strong even if he be little and
frail in body； just as any man is little and frail beside a
bull； and yet stronger than the bull； what was it？ It was not
money nor power nor position。 What power had the vicar over Tom
Brangwen……none。 Yet strip them and set them on a desert
island； and the vicar was the master。 His soul was master of the
other man's。 And why……why？ She decided it was a question of
knowledge。
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 self…contained manner reveals far…off countries
present in himself。 But why should a knowledge of far…off
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