11.10 Yin tī hoe-hn̂g chèng hoe-chháu
Yi khòaⁿ i.
"M̄-koh, Clifford, lí kā éng-kiú tòng-chò chi̍t-ê kòa a̍h-sī tn̂g-tn̂g ê liān-á, m̄-koán lī-khui gōa hn̄g, lóng kā khan tio̍h."
I khòaⁿ yi, kám-kak put-an.
"Góa ê ì-sù sī," i kóng, "lí nā khì Venice, lí bē hi-bāng tī hia hoat-seng siáⁿ-mih tōa chèng-keng ê ài-chêng sū-kiāⁿ, sī bô?"
"Tōa chèng-keng ê ài-chêng sū-kiāⁿ tī Venice? Bē. Góa kòa pó-chèng! Bē, tī Venice góa choa̍t-tùi bē ū chhiau-kòe sió chèng-keng ê ài-chêng sū-kiāⁿ."
Yi ê ōe nih ū chi̍t chióng kî-koài ê gê-sîn. I ba̍k-bâi phah-kat, khòaⁿ yi.
Keh-kang chá-khí lo̍h-lâu lâi, yi khòaⁿ tio̍h khàn-siú ê káu Flossie tī Clifford pâng-keng kháu ê cháu-lông, khin-khin chhut-siaⁿ.
"Ai-ah, Flossie!" yi khin-siaⁿ kóng. "Lí tī chia chhòng-siáⁿ?"
Yi khin-khin phah-khui Clifford ê mn̂g. Clifford chē tī bîn-chhn̂g, chhn̂g-piⁿ ê toh-á kap phah-jī-ki tháⁿ-khui, khàn-siú khiā tī chhn̂g-thâu teh tán. Flossie cháu ji̍p-lâi. Mellors iōng thâu kap ba̍k-chiu ê chu-sè, kiò i koh chhut-khì, i chiah koh liu chhut-khì.
"Ah, gâu-chá, Clifford!" Connie kóng. "Góa m̄-chai lí teh bô-êng." Koh-lâi, yi lia̍h khàn-siú khòaⁿ chi̍t-ē, mn̄g i chá-an. I kē-siaⁿ kā ìn, ba̍k-chiu bui-bui khòaⁿ yi. M̄-koh, in-ūi i tī hia, yi kám-kak ū chi̍t chūn jia̍t-chêng bak tio̍h yi.
"Góa ū kiáu-jiáu tio̍h lín bô, Clifford? Pháiⁿ-sè."
"Bē lah, m̄-sī iàu-kín ê tāi-chì."
Yi koh liu chhut pâng-keng, peh khì jī-lâu ê nâ-sek se-chng-pâng. Yi chē tī thang-á piⁿ, khòaⁿ tio̍h i iōng he kî-ī, tiām-chēng ê tōng-chok kiâⁿ hiòng tōa-lō͘ khì. I ū chi̍t chióng thian-seng ê tiām-chēng kò-sèng, chū-ko ê chun-giâm, mā ū bó͘-chióng hi-jio̍k ê sîn-khì. Chi̍t-ê sin-lô! Clifford chhiàⁿ ê sin-lô! "Chhin-ài ê Brutus, kòe-chhò m̄-sī tī lán ê thiⁿ-chhiⁿ, kòe-chhò sī tī lán, in-ūi lán sī ē-kha lâng ah."
I sī ē-kha lâng sioh? Sī bô? I án-chóaⁿ khòaⁿ yi neh?
Hit kang chhut-ji̍t, Connie tī hoe-hn̂g teh chò khang-khòe, Bolton Tt tàu saⁿ-kāng. Ūi-tio̍h bó͘-chióng iân-kò͘, iā-tō-sī in-ūi kóng-bē-lâi ê jîn-kan tông-chêng ê tiâu-liû, hō͘ chit nn̄g-ê cha-bó͘ kiap chò-hóe. Yin kā chián-jiông-hoe pa̍k tī khi̍t-á, mā teh chèng chi̍t-kóa joa̍h-thiⁿ ê sè-châng hoe-chháu. Che sī yin nn̄g-lâng lóng kah-ì ê khang-khòe. Connie te̍k-pia̍t hoaⁿ-hí kā hoe-chháu ê nńg-kin seng iōng nńg-thô͘ pau-tio̍h, chiah kā tâi ji̍p thô͘ nih. Tī chit-ê chhun-thiⁿ ê chá-khí, yi mā kám-kak yi ê chú-kiong teh chùn-tāng, ná-chhiūⁿ khì hō͘ ji̍t-thâu bak tio̍h, hō͘ i kui-ê hoaⁿ-hí khí-lâi.
"Lín ang bô--khì chin chē nî ah hoⁿh?" yi ná mn̄g Bolton Tt, ná koh the̍h chi̍t ki hoe-chháu kā chèng lo̍h thô͘ khang.
"23 nî ah!" Bolton Tt kóng, ná kā sè châng bāng-hoàn-chháu (夢幻草, columbine) chi̍t-ki chi̍t-ki hun-khui. "I hông chhōa tńg-chhù kàu taⁿ 23 tang lah."
Connie thiaⁿ-tio̍h "chhōa tńg-chhù" chit-chióng khó-phà ê kiat-kio̍k, sim-koaⁿ tiuh chi̍t-ē.
"Lí siūⁿ, i sī án-chóaⁿ sí ê?" yi mn̄g. "Chāi-seⁿ i kap lí chò-hóe ū hēng-hok bô?"
Che sī cha-bó͘ mn̄g cha-bó͘ ê būn-tê. Bolton Tt iōng chhiú-pôaⁿ kā jia-bīn ê chi̍t chhok thâu-mo͘ póe khui.
"Góa m̄-chai lah, Hu-jîn! I sī hit-chióng m̄-jīn-su ê lâng: i m̄-goān kap kî-thaⁿ ê lâng kāng-khoán. I bē-giàn ūi jīm-hô mi̍h-kiāⁿ lê-thâu. He sī chi̍t-chióng hāi sí lâng ê kò͘-chip. Lí chai, i ta̍k hāng lóng bô-iàu-bô-kín. Góa siūⁿ sī in-ūi thòaⁿ-khang ê koan-hē. I bô eng-kai lo̍h thòaⁿ-khang. M̄-koh, i iáu siàu-liân ê sî, in lāu-pē tō pek i lo̍h-khì; tán kàu 20-gōa hòe, tō bô hoat-tō͘ lī-khui ah."
"I ū kóng, i thó-ià thòaⁿ-khang bô?"
--
11.10 姻 tī 花園種花草
她看伊.
"M̄-koh, Clifford, 你 kā 永久當做一个蓋抑是長長 ê 鍊仔, 毋管離開偌遠, 攏 kā 牽著."
伊看她, 感覺不安.
"我 ê 意思是," 伊講, "你若去 Venice, 你袂希望 tī 遐發生啥物大正經 ê 愛情事件, 是無?"
"大正經 ê 愛情事件 tī Venice? 袂. 我掛保證! 袂, tī Venice 我絕對袂有超過小正經 ê 愛情事件."
她 ê 話 nih 有一種奇怪 ê 牙神. 伊目眉拍結, 看她.
隔工早起落樓來, 她看著看守 ê 狗 Flossie tī Clifford 房間口 ê 走廊, 輕輕出聲.
"Ai-ah, Flossie!" 她輕聲講. "你 tī 遮創啥?"
她輕輕拍開 Clifford ê 門. Clifford 坐 tī 眠床, 床邊 ê 桌仔 kap 拍字機 tháⁿ 開, 看守徛 tī 床頭 teh 等. Flossie 走入來. Mellors 用頭 kap 目睭 ê 姿勢, 叫伊 koh 出去, 伊才 koh 溜出去.
"Ah, gâu 早, Clifford!" Connie 講. "我毋知你 teh 無閒." Koh 來, 她掠看守看一下, 問伊早安. 伊低聲 kā 應, 目睭 bui-bui 看她. M̄-koh, 因為伊 tī 遐, 她感覺有一陣熱情沐著她.
"我有攪擾著恁無, Clifford? 歹勢."
"袂 lah, 毋是要緊 ê 代誌."
她 koh 溜出房間, peh 去二樓 ê 藍色梳妝房. 她坐 tī 窗仔邊, 看著伊用彼奇異, 恬靜 ê 動作行向大路去. 伊有一種天生 ê 恬靜個性, 自高 ê 尊嚴, mā 有某種虛弱 ê 神氣. 一个辛勞! Clifford 倩 ê 辛勞! "親愛 ê Brutus, 過錯毋是 tī 咱 ê 天星, 過錯是 tī 咱, 因為咱是下跤人 ah."
伊是下跤人 sioh? 是無? 伊按怎看她 neh?
彼工出日, Connie tī 花園 teh 做 khang-khòe, Bolton Tt 鬥 saⁿ-kāng. 為著某種緣故, 也 tō 是因為講袂來 ê 人間同情 ê 潮流, 予這兩个查某 kiap 做伙. 姻 kā 剪絨花縛 tī khi̍t 仔, mā teh 種一寡熱天 ê 細叢花草. 這是姻兩人攏佮意 ê khang-khòe. Connie 特別歡喜 kā 花草 ê 軟根先用軟塗包著, 才 kā 埋入塗 nih. Tī 這个春天 ê 早起, 她 mā 感覺她 ê 子宮 teh 顫動, ná 像去予日頭沐著, 予伊規个歡喜起來.
"恁翁無去真濟年 ah hoⁿh?" 她 ná 問 Bolton Tt, ná koh 提一枝花草 kā 種落塗空.
"23 年 ah!" Bolton Tt 講, ná kā 細叢 bāng-hoàn-chháu (夢幻草, columbine) 一枝一枝分開. "伊 hông chhōa 轉厝到今 23 冬 lah."
Connie 聽著 "chhōa 轉厝" 這種可怕 ê 結局, 心肝 tiuh 一下.
"你想, 伊是按怎死 ê?" 她問. "在生伊 kap 你做伙有幸福無?"
這是查某問查某 ê 問題. Bolton Tt 用手盤 kā 遮面 ê 一撮頭毛 póe 開.
"我毋知 lah, 夫人! 伊是彼種毋認輸 ê 人: 伊毋願 kap 其他 ê 人仝款. 伊袂癮為任何物件犁頭. 彼是一種害死人 ê 固執. 你知, 伊逐項攏無要無緊. 我想是因為炭空 ê 關係. 伊無應該落炭空. M̄-koh, 伊猶少年 ê 時, in 老爸 tō 迫伊落去; 等到 20 外歲, tō 無法度離開 ah."
"伊有講, 伊討厭炭空無?"
--
11.10
She looked at him.
’But Clifford, you make eternity sound like a lid or a long, long chain that trailed after one, no matter how far one went.’
He looked at her, annoyed.
’What I mean,’ he said, ‘is that if you go to Venice, you won’t go in the hopes of some love affair that you can take AU GRAND S RIEUX, will you?’
’A love affair in Venice AU GRAND S RIEUX? No. I assure you! No, I’d never take a love affair in Venice more than AU TRÔS PETIT S RIEUX.’
She spoke with a queer kind of contempt. He knitted his brows, looking at her.
Coming downstairs in the morning, she found the keeper’s dog Flossie sitting in the corridor outside Clifford’s room, and whimpering very faintly.
’Why, Flossie!’ she said softly. ‘What are you doing here?’
And she quietly opened Clifford’s door. Clifford was sitting up in bed, with the bed-table and typewriter pushed aside, and the keeper was standing at attention at the foot of the bed. Flossie ran in. With a faint gesture of head and eyes, Mellors ordered her to the door again, and she slunk out.
’Oh, good morning, Clifford!’ Connie said. ‘I didn’t know you were busy.’ Then she looked at the keeper, saying good morning to him. He murmured his reply, looking at her as if vaguely. But she felt a whiff of passion touch her, from his mere presence.
’Did I interrupt you, Clifford? I’m sorry.’
’No, it’s nothing of any importance.’
She slipped out of the room again, and up to the blue boudoir on the first floor. She sat in the window, and saw him go down the drive, with his curious, silent motion, effaced. He had a natural sort of quiet distinction, an aloof pride, and also a certain look of frailty. A hireling! One of Clifford’s hirelings!’The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, but in ourselves, that we are underlings.’
Was he an underling? Was he? What did he think of HER?
It was a sunny day, and Connie was working in the garden, and Mrs Bolton was helping her. For some reason, the two women had drawn together, in one of the unaccountable flows and ebbs of sympathy that exist between people. They were pegging down carnations, and putting in small plants for the summer. It was work they both liked. Connie especially felt a delight in putting the soft roots of young plants into a soft black puddle, and cradling them down. On this spring morning she felt a quiver in her womb too, as if the sunshine had touched it and made it happy.
’It is many years since you lost your husband?’ she said to Mrs Bolton as she took up another little plant and laid it in its hole.
’Twenty-three!’ said Mrs Bolton, as she carefully separated the young columbines into single plants. ‘Twenty-three years since they brought him home.’
Connie’s heart gave a lurch, at the terrible finality of it. ‘Brought him home!’
’Why did he get killed, do you think?’ she asked. ‘He was happy with you?’
It was a woman’s question to a woman. Mrs Bolton put aside a strand of hair from her face, with the back of her hand.
’I don’t know, my Lady! He sort of wouldn’t give in to things: he wouldn’t really go with the rest. And then he hated ducking his head for anything on earth. A sort of obstinacy, that gets itself killed. You see he didn’t really care. I lay it down to the pit. He ought never to have been down pit. But his dad made him go down, as a lad; and then, when you’re over twenty, it’s not very easy to come out.’
’Did he say he hated it?’
--
No comments:
Post a Comment