5.5 Mick: lán ná m̄ kiat-hun?
Clifford mā ū i ê sêng-kong: ū káu-bó-sîn! Kóng si̍t-chāi, i chha-put-to í-keng chhut-miâ loh, i ê chheh chi̍t nî thè i thàn 1,000 eng-pōng. I ê siòng sì-kè chhut-hiān. Ū chi̍t keng gē-su̍t-koán ū i ê pòaⁿ-sin tiau-siōng, lēng-gōa nn̄g keng gē-sû-koán ū i ê ōe-siōng. I ê chok-phín oán-jiân sī siōng hiān-tāi ê hiān-tāi koan-tiám. Khò i he koài-kî pái-kha ê pún-lêng chò soan-thoân, tī sì-gō͘ nî lāi, i í-keng sī chi̍t ê siōng chhut-miâ ê siàu-liân "tì-sek hūn-chú". M̄-koh, Connie khòaⁿ bô he tì-sek ùi tó-ūi lâi. Tek-khak, Clifford chin gâu kā lâng kap tōng-ki chò khoe-hâi ê hun-sek, lo̍h-bóe kā it-chhè lóng phah-chhùi. M̄-koh he tō ná káu-á-kiáⁿ kā í-chū-á thiah-chhùi; put-kò i m̄-sī iù-khí koh ài-sńg, i sī koài ló-chú, kò͘-chip koh chū-tōa. He chin koài-kî, he lóng bô siáⁿ. Tī Connie lêng-hûn lāi-té it-chài hôe-hiáng ê sī án-ne: he put-kò sī teh iāⁿ kî-á, teh kî-miāu tián-sī chhut khang-hi kap bô mi̍h. Tông-sî ê tián-sī. Tián-khang! Tián-pó! Tián hong-sîn!
Michaelis lī-iōng Clifford chò chú-kak siá chi̍t ê kio̍k-pún; kio̍k-chêng í-keng an-pâi hó-sè, tē-it bō͘ mā siá hó ah. In-ūi Michaelis pí Clifford koh khah gâu iōng khang-hi lâi tián-sī. Che sī chiah-ê lâng siōng-bóe ê jia̍t-chêng: its* tián-pó ê jia̍t-chêng. In tùi sēng pēng bô jia̍t-chêng, sīm-chì í-keng sí ah. Kàu taⁿ, Michaelis tui-kiû ê m̄-sī chîⁿ. Clifford ki-pún-siōng mā m̄-sī ūi-tio̍h chîⁿ, sui-jiân i ē-tàng thàn tō chīn-liōng thàn, in-ūi kim-chîⁿ sī sêng-kong ê ìn-kì kap tāi-piáu. Sêng-kong piān-sī in só͘ boeh ài ê. In nn̄g ê lóng siūⁿ boeh hó-hó tián chi̍t ē... cha-po͘-lâng ê chū-ngó tián-sī, hó-thang tī chi̍t tōaⁿ sî-kan lia̍h tio̍h tāi-chiòng ê sim. [* its = iā-tō-sī]
Chiâⁿ kî-koài... bē-sin hō͘ káu-bó͘-sîn. Tùi Connie lâi kóng, in-ūi yi í-keng chin-chiàⁿ thiàu tī che ê gōa-kháu, yi tùi che ê chhì-kek mā í-keng bâ-pì ah, che lóng sī khang-hi bô siáⁿ. Sīm-chì bē-sin hō͘ káu-bó͘-sîn mā sī khang-khang bô-siáⁿ. Hiah-ê cha-po͘-lâng í-keng bē kúi-nā kái ah, he mā sī khang-khang bô-siáⁿ.
Michaelis siá-phe hō͘ Clifford kóng hit ê kio̍k-pún. Tong-jiân che Connie chin chá tō chai ah. Clifford iū-koh chiâⁿ thiòng. Chit kái i iū ū ki-hōe thang tián ah, ū-lâng boeh tián i, chin iú-lī. I iau-chhiáⁿ Michaelis chah Tē-it Bō͘ lâi Wragby.
Michaelis lâi ah: tī joa̍h-thiⁿ, chhēng chhián-sek se-chong, lop pe̍h-sek iûⁿ-ko-pôe chhiú-thò, chah chi̍t kóa chin khó-ài ê kiô-sek lân-hoe hō͘ Connie, iah Tē-it Bō͘ ê hoat-piáu tōa-tōa sêng-kong. Liân Connie mā chiâⁿ thiòng... thiòng kàu kut-chhóe nih. Iah Michaelis neh, in-ūi ū lêng-le̍k hō͘ lâng thiòng, mā chiâⁿ thiòng, chāi Connie khòaⁿ, i sī chiâⁿ lī-hāi... chiâⁿ súi-khùi. Yi ùi i khòaⁿ tio̍h chi̍t-ê chéng-cho̍k ê kó͘-chá pêng-chēng, he bē koh hoàn-bia̍t, chi̍t-ê hoān-sè sī bô sûn-kiat ê ke̍k-toan, he sī sûn-kiat. Ùi i chhiau-kip bē-sin hó͘ káu-bó͘-sîn hit thâu lâi khòaⁿ, i ná-chhiūⁿ sī sûn-kiat, sûn-kiat kah chhiūⁿ Afrika chhiūⁿ-gê bīn-khak, he kā i chhiūⁿ-gê ê khiau kap pêⁿ ê bô sûn-kiat bāng-sióng chò sûn-kiat.
Tī i kā Chatterley ang-bó͘, its* Clifford kap Connie nn̄g lâng, lāng kah sóng-oaiⁿ-oaiⁿ ê sî, he sī Michaelis it-seng tiong siōng liáu-put-khí ê sî-chūn. I í-keng sêng-kong ah: i í-keng hō͘ in tio̍h-bê ah. Sīm-chì Clifford mā chiām-sî ài tio̍h i ah... ká-sú lán ē-sái án-ne lâi biô-siá. [* = iā-tō-sī]
Keh-kang chá-khí, Mick pí kòe-óng lóng khah put-an; sim-sîn bē-tiāⁿ, hi lè-lè, nn̄g ki chhiú chhah tī lak-tē-á té. Cha-mê Connie bô lâi chhōe i... i mā m̄-chai yi tī tó-ūi. Sī tiau kó͘-tóng... Tī i tng tek-ì ê sî-chūn.
Thiⁿ-kng liáu i cháu-khì yi ê sió kheh-thiaⁿ. Connie chai i ē lâi. I ê put-an chin bêng-hián. I mn̄g yi tùi he kio̍k-pún ê ì-kián... yi kám ū kah-ì he? I boeh ài thiaⁿ tio̍h yi ê o-ló: che ē pí chò-ài ê ko-tiau koh khah hō͘ i kám-kak sóng-khoài. Yi hoaⁿ-hoaⁿ hí-hí kā o-ló. M̄-koh, chóng-sī tī yi ê sim lāi-té, yi chai-iáⁿ he lóng sī khang, bô-siáⁿ.
"Lí khòaⁿ!" chòe-āu i hiông-hiông kong. "Sī án-chóaⁿ lí hām góa m̄ kā chò-hó? Sī án-chóaⁿ lán m̄ kiat-hun?"
"M̄-koh góa í-keng kiat-hun ah," yi tio̍h-kiaⁿ kóng, m̄-koh bô siáⁿ kám-kak.
"Oh, he!... I ē-sái kap lí lī-hun ah... Lí ná m̄ kap góa kiat-hun? Góa boeh kiat-hun. Góa chai che tùi góa siōng-hó... kiat-hun, kòe chi̍t ê chèng-siông ê seng-oa̍h. Góa taⁿ ê seng-oa̍h chin bái, kiông boeh kā góa thiah pòa. Lí khòaⁿ, lí hām góa sī thian-seng ê chi̍t tùi... tō ná chhiú kap chhiú-thò. Sī án-chóaⁿ lán m̄ kiat-hun? Lí ū siáⁿ lí-iû, lán m̄ kiâ-hun?"
Connie tio̍h-kiaⁿ khòaⁿ i: m̄-koh yi bô siáⁿ kám-kak. Chiah-ê cha-po͘ lóng kāng-khoán, in siáⁿ to bô koán. In ná chhiūⁿ tī thâu-khak téng tiám to̍h ê chhiong-thian-phàu, hi-bāng kō͘ he iù tek-ki chah lí chiūⁿ-thiⁿ.
"M̄-koh góa í-keng kiat-hun ah," yi kóng. "Góa bē-sái lī-khui Clifford, lí chai."
"Án-chóaⁿ bē-sái? Sī án-chóaⁿ bē-sái?" i tōa-siaⁿ kóng. "Kòe pòaⁿ-nî, i tō bē kám-kak bô lí bē-sái. Tî-liáu i ka-tī, i pēng bô kám-kak pa̍t-lâng ê chûn-chāi. Chāi góa khòaⁿ, lí tùi i pēng bô-iōng; i kan-ta siūⁿ tio̍h i ka-tī."
Connie kám-kak che bô m̄-tio̍h. M̄-koh yi mā kám-kak, Mick kóng kah bē-su i m̄-sī in-ūi chū-su.
"Kám m̄-sī so͘-ū ê cha-po͘ lóng kan-ta siūⁿ tio̍h ka-tī?" yi mn̄g.
"Oh, ke-kiám sī án-ne, góa sêng-jīn. Lâng chóng-sī boeh ta̍t-kàu bo̍k-te̍k. M̄-koh, tiōng-tiám m̄-sī tī chia. Tiōng-tiám sī, cha-po͘ ē-tàng hō͘ cha-bó͘ siáⁿ-mih? I ē-tàng hō͘ yi khoài-lo̍k bô? I nā bē-tàng, i tùi hit ê cha-bó͘ tō bô khoân-lī..." I tòng-tiām, iōng he îⁿ-îⁿ ê la̍t-sek ba̍k-chhiu, ná chhui-bîn án-ne khòaⁿ yi. "Taⁿ góa jīn-ûi," i koh kóng, "góa ē-tàng hō͘ cha-bó͘ yi só͘ su-iàu ê hēng-hok. Góa ē-tàng án-ne pó-chèng."
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5.5 Mick: 咱那毋結婚?
Clifford mā 有伊 ê 成功: 有狗母神! 講實在, 伊差不多已經出名 loh, 伊 ê 冊一年替伊趁 1,000 英鎊. 伊 ê 相四界出現. 有一間藝術館有伊 ê 半身雕像, 另外兩間藝術館有伊 ê 畫像. 伊 ê 作品宛然是上現代 ê 現代觀點. 靠伊彼怪奇跛跤 ê 本能做宣傳, tī 四五年來, 伊已經是一个上出名 ê 少年 "智識份子". M̄-koh, Connie 看無彼智識 ùi 陀位來. 的確, Clifford 真 gâu kā 人 kap 動機做詼諧 ê 分析, 落尾 kā 一切攏拍碎. M̄-koh 彼 tō ná 狗仔囝 kā 椅苴仔拆碎; 不過伊毋是幼齒 koh 愛耍, 伊是怪老子, 固執 koh 自大. 彼真怪奇, 彼攏無啥. Tī Connie 靈魂內底一再回響 ê 是 án-ne: 彼不過是 teh 颺旗仔, teh 奇妙展示出空虛 kap 無物. 同時 ê 展示. 展空! 展寶! 展風神!
Michaelis 利用 Clifford 做主角寫一个劇本; 劇情已經安排好勢, 第一幕 mā 寫好 ah. 因為 Michaelis 比 Clifford koh 較 gâu 用空虛來展示. 這是 chiah-ê 人上尾 ê 熱情: 也 tō 是展寶 ê 熱情. In 對性並無熱情, 甚至已經死 ah. 到今, Michaelis 追求 ê 毋是錢. Clifford 基本上 mā 毋是為著錢, 雖然伊 ē-tàng 趁 tō 盡量趁, 因為金錢是成功 ê 印記 kap 代表. 成功便是 in 所欲愛 ê. In 兩个攏想欲好好展一下... 查埔人 ê 自我展示, 好通 tī 一段時間掠著大眾 ê 心.
誠奇怪... 賣身予狗母神. 對 Connie 來講, 因為她已經真正跳 tī 這 ê 外口, 她對這 ê 刺激 mā 已經麻痺 ah, 這攏是空虛無啥. 心志賣身予狗母神 mā 是空空無啥. Hiah-ê 查埔人已經賣幾若改 ah, 彼 mā 是空空無啥.
Michaelis 寫批予 Clifford 講彼个劇本. 當然這 Connie 真早 tō 知 ah. Clifford 又 koh 誠暢. 這改伊又有機會通展 ah, 有人欲展伊, 真有利. 伊邀請 Michaelis 扎第一幕來 Wragby.
Michaelis 來 ah: tī 熱天, 穿淺色西裝, lop 白色羊羔皮手套, 扎一寡真可愛 ê 茄色蘭花予 Connie, iah 第一幕 ê 發表大大成功. 連 Connie mā 誠暢... 暢到骨髓 nih. Iah Michaelis neh, 因為有能力予人暢, mā 誠暢, 在 Connie 看, 伊是誠厲害... 誠媠氣. 她 ùi 伊看著一个種族 ê 古早平靜, 彼袂 koh 幻滅, 一个凡勢是無純潔 ê 極端, 彼是純潔. Ùi 伊超級賣身予狗母神彼頭來看, 伊 ná 像是純潔, 純潔 kah 像 Afrika 象牙面殼, 彼 kā 象牙 ê 曲 kap 平 ê 無純潔夢想做純潔.
Tī 伊 kā Chatterley 翁某, its* Clifford kap Connie 兩人, 弄 kah 爽 oaiⁿ-oaiⁿ ê 時, 彼是 Michaelis 一生中上了不起 ê 時陣. 伊已經成功 ah: 伊已經予 in 著迷 ah. 甚至 Clifford mā 暫時愛著伊 ah... 假使咱 ē-sái án-ne 講. [* its = iā-tō-sī]
隔工早起, Mick 比過往攏較不安; 心神袂定, 虛 lè-lè, 兩支手插 tī lak 袋仔底. 昨暝 Connie 無來揣伊... 伊 mā 毋知她 tī 陀位. 是刁古董... Tī 伊當得意 ê 時陣.
天光了伊走去她 ê 小客廳. Connie 知伊會來. 伊 ê 不安真明顯. 伊問她對彼劇本 ê 意見... 她敢有佮意彼? 伊欲愛聽著她 ê o-ló: 這會比做愛 ê 高潮 koh 較予伊感覺爽快. 她歡歡喜喜 kā o-ló. M̄-koh, 總是 tī 她 ê 心內底, 她知影彼攏是空, 無啥.
"你看!" 最後伊雄雄講. "是按怎你和我毋 kā 做好? 是按怎咱毋結婚?"
"M̄-koh 我已經結婚 ah," 她著驚講, m̄-koh 無啥感覺.
"Oh, 彼!... 伊 ē-sái kap 你離婚 ah... 你 ná m̄ kap 我結婚? 我欲結婚. 我知這對我上好... 結婚, 過一个正常 ê 生活. 我今 ê 生活真䆀, 強欲 kā 我拆破. 你看, 你和我是天生 ê 一對... tō ná 手 kap 手套. 是按怎咱毋結婚? 你有啥理由, 咱毋結婚?"
Connie 著驚看伊: m̄-koh 她無啥感覺. Chiah-ê 查埔人仝款, in 啥都無管. In ná 像 tī 頭殼頂點 to̍h ê 沖天炮, 希望 kō͘ 彼幼竹枝扎你上天.
"M̄-koh 我已經結婚 ah," 她講. "我 bē-sái 離開 Clifford, 你知."
"按怎 bē-sái? 是按怎 bē-sái?" 伊大聲講. "過半年, 伊 tō 袂感覺無你 bē-sái. 除了伊家己, 伊並無感覺別人 ê 存在. 在我看, 你對伊並無用; 伊干焦想著伊家己."
Connie 感覺這無毋著. M̄-koh 她 mā 感覺, Mick 講 kah 袂輸伊不是因為自私.
"敢毋是所有 ê 查埔攏干焦想著家己?" 伊問.
"Oh, 加減是 án-ne, 我承認. 人總是欲達到目的. M̄-koh, 重點毋是 tī 遮. 重點是, 查埔 ē-tàng 予查某啥物? 伊 ē-tàng 予她快樂無? 伊若 bē-tàng, 伊對彼个查某 tō 無權利..." 伊擋恬, 用彼圓圓 ê 栗色目睭, ná 催眠 án-ne 看她. "今我認為," 伊 koh 講, "我 ē-tàng 予查某她所需要 ê 幸福. 我 ē-tàng án-ne 保證."
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5.5
There was Clifford's success: the bitch-goddess! It was true he was almost famous, and his books brought him in a thousand pounds. His photograph appeared everywhere. There was a bust of him in one of the galleries, and a portrait of him in two galleries. He seemed the most modern of modern voices. With his uncanny lame instinct for publicity, he had become in four or five years one of the best known of the young 'intellectuals'. Where the intellect came in, Connie did not quite see. Clifford was really clever at that slightly humorous analysis of people and motives which leaves everything in bits at the end. But it was rather like puppies tearing the sofa cushions to bits; except that it was not young and playful, but curiously old, and rather obstinately conceited. It was weird and it was nothing. This was the feeling that echoed and re-echoed at the bottom of Connie's soul: it was all flag, a wonderful display of nothingness. At the same time a display. A display! A display! A display!
Michaelis had seized upon Clifford as the central figure for a play; already he had sketched in the plot, and written the first act. For Michaelis was even better than Clifford at making a display of nothingness. It was the last bit of passion left in these men: the passion for making a display. Sexually they were passionless, even dead. And now it was not money that Michaelis was after. Clifford had never been primarily out for money, though he made it where he could, for money is the seal and stamp of success. And success was what they wanted. They wanted, both of them, to make a real display ... a man's own very display of himself that should capture for a time the vast populace.
It was strange ... the prostitution to the bitch-goddess. To Connie, since she was really outside of it, and since she had grown numb to the thrill of it, it was again nothingness. Even the prostitution to the bitch-goddess was nothingness, though the men prostituted themselves innumerable times. Nothingness even that.
Michaelis wrote to Clifford about the play. Of course she knew about it long ago. And Clifford was again thrilled. He was going to be displayed again this time, somebody was going to display him, and to advantage. He invited Michaelis down to Wragby with Act I.
Michaelis came: in summer, in a pale-coloured suit and white suede gloves, with mauve orchids for Connie, very lovely, and Act I was a great success. Even Connie was thrilled ... thrilled to what bit of marrow she had left. And Michaelis, thrilled by his power to thrill, was really wonderful ... and quite beautiful, in Connie's eyes. She saw in him that ancient motionlessness of a race that can't be disillusioned any more, an extreme, perhaps, of impurity that is pure. On the far side of his supreme prostitution to the bitch-goddess he seemed pure, pure as an African ivory mask that dreams impurity into purity, in its ivory curves and planes.
His moment of sheer thrill with the two Chatterleys, when he simply carried Connie and Clifford away, was one of the supreme moments of Michaelis' life. He had succeeded: he had carried them away. Even Clifford was temporarily in love with him ... if that is the way one can put it.
So next morning Mick was more uneasy than ever; restless, devoured, with his hands restless in his trousers pockets. Connie had not visited him in the night ... and he had not known where to find her. Coquetry! ... At his moment of triumph.
He went up to her sitting-room in the morning. She knew he would come. And his restlessness was evident. He asked her about his play ... did she think it good? He had to hear it praised: that affected him with the last thin thrill of passion beyond any sexual orgasm. And she praised it rapturously. Yet all the while, at the bottom of her soul, she knew it was nothing.
'Look here!' he said suddenly at last. 'Why don't you and I make a clean thing of it? Why don't we marry?'
'But I am married,' she said, amazed, and yet feeling nothing.
'Oh that! ... He'll divorce you all right ... Why don't you and I marry? I want to marry. I know it would be the best thing for me ... marry and lead a regular life. I lead the deuce of a life, simply tearing myself to pieces. Look here, you and I, we're made for one another ... hand and glove. Why don't we marry? Do you see any reason why we shouldn't?'
Connie looked at him amazed: and yet she felt nothing. These men, they were all alike, they left everything out. They just went off from the top of their heads as if they were squibs, and expected you to be carried heavenwards along with their own thin sticks.
'But I am married already,' she said. 'I can't leave Clifford, you know.'
'Why not? But why not?' he cried. 'He'll hardly know you've gone, after six months. He doesn't know that anybody exists, except himself. Why the man has no use for you at all, as far as I can see; he's entirely wrapped up in himself.'
Connie felt there was truth in this. But she also felt that Mick was hardly making a display of selflessness.
'Aren't all men wrapped up in themselves?' she asked.
'Oh, more or less, I allow. A man's got to be, to get through. But that's not the point. The point is, what sort of a time can a man give a woman? Can he give her a damn good time, or can't he? If he can't he's no right to the woman ...' He paused and gazed at her with his full, hazel eyes, almost hypnotic. 'Now I consider,' he added, 'I can give a woman the darndest good time she can ask for. I think I can guarantee myself.'
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