13.7 I tò-chhiú sak chhia-á, chiàⁿ-chhiú khan yi
Bô lâng ìn-siaⁿ. Mellors kā chhèng hàiⁿ khì keng-thâu, bīn-sek koài-koài, bô piáu-chêng, kan-ta hiàn-chhut bû-só͘-ūi ê nāi-sèng. Hit chiah káu-á, Flossie, khiā tī chú-lâng kha-piⁿ siú-pī, ngia̍uh-ngia̍uh tāng, iōng hoâi-gî kap thó-ià ê ba̍k-sek khòaⁿ he chhia-á, ká-ná tùi chit saⁿ-ê lâng chin khùn-jiáu. Che sī tī teh-tó ê nâ-lêng-hoe tiong-kan ê chi̍t-pak oa̍h-thiàu ê tô͘. Hit-sî bô lâng chhut siaⁿ.
"Góa siūⁿ, i tio̍h ài lâng kā sak," chòe-āu Clifford kóng, ké kah chiâⁿ léng-chēng.
Bô lâng ìn. Mellors bû-só͘-ūi ê bīn-sek ká-ná i bô thiaⁿ tio̍h siáⁿ. Connie kip-chhiat khòaⁿ i. Clifford mā oa̍t-thâu khòaⁿ.
"Mellors, kā chhia-á sak tńg-khì hó bô?" i iōng téng-si léng-tām ê kháu-khì kóng. "Hi-bōng góa bô tek-sit tio̍h lí," i koh iōng bô hoaⁿ-hí ê siaⁿ-tiāu kóng.
"Bô tāi-chì, Clifford Sià! Lí ài góa sak chhia-á, hoⁿh?"
"Pài-thok lí."
Hit-lâng hiòng chêng: m̄-koh chit-kái bô-hāu. Chhia ê tòng-á khê tio̍h. In koh thok, koh giú, khàn-siú koh kā chhèng kap gōa-thò khǹg lo̍h. Chit-má Clifford chi̍t kù ōe mā bô kóng. Chòe-āu khàn-siú kā chhia-á ùi āu-piah kng koân, sûi koh iōng kha khì that, siūⁿ boeh pàng sang khê tio̍h ê lián-á. Bô-hāu, chhia-á koh lak lo̍h thô͘-kha. Clifford lia̍h tiâu chhia-á siang-pêng. Chhia-á ê tāng-liōng hō͘ hit-lâng phēⁿ-phēⁿ chhoán.
"Mài án-ne chhòng!" Connie kā i hoah.
"Lí kā lián án-ne khiú chi̍t-ē, án-ne!" i kā yi kóng, ná chí-sī yi án-chóaⁿ chò.
"Mài! M̄-thang kng chhia-á khí-lâi! Lí ē koāiⁿ tio̍h ka-tī," yi kóng, khì kah bīn âng-âng.
M̄-koh i khòaⁿ yi ê ba̍k-chiu, koh tìm-thâu. Yi tō kiâⁿ khì hōaⁿ lián-á, hó-sè. I gia̍h-koân, yi khiú chi̍t-ē, chhia-á chū án-ne tín-tāng ah.
"Thiⁿ-kong pó-pì!" Clifford kiaⁿ kah kiò chhut-lâi.
M̄-koh, lóng hó-sè ah, tòng-á bô khê tio̍h ah. Khàn-siú tī lián-á ē seh chi̍t-lia̍p chio̍h-thâu, cháu khì chē tī thô͘-hōaⁿ, in-ūi chhut tōa-la̍t, sim-thiàu, bīn pe̍h, kiông boeh hūn khì.
Connie khòaⁿ i, hiám-hiám khì kah khàu chhut-lâi. Ta̍k-ê chēng lo̍h-lâi, tiām-tiām. Yi khòaⁿ tio̍h i ê siang-chhiú tī tōa-thúi téng khū-khū chùn.
"Lí ū siū-siong bô?" yi mn̄g, ná kiâⁿ hiòng i.
"Bô. Bô!" I kā thâu oa̍t-cháu, ká-ná teh siū-khì.
Chi̍t-chūn sí tiām. Clifford sim-sek ê thâu bô tín-tāng. Hit chiah káu mā tiām-tiām bô tāng. Thiⁿ-téng í-keng khàm hûn.
Chòe-āu khàn-siú thò͘ chi̍t kháu khùi, koh iōng âng-sek chhiú-kin chhèng-phīⁿ.
"Hì-iām hō͘ góa ke chin bô khùi-la̍t," i kóng.
Bô lâng ìn-siaⁿ. Connie chún-chat gia̍h-koân chhia-á kap tōa-kho͘-pé ê Clifford só͘ su-iàu ê khùi-la̍t: chin chia̍h-la̍t, siuⁿ chia̍h-la̍t lah! Sīm-chì ē bé-miā!
I khiā khí-lâi, the̍h i ê gōa-thò, kā kòa tī chhia-á āu ê hoâiⁿ-koaiⁿ.
"Lí chún-pī hó bōe, Clifford Sià?"
"Góa teh tán lí!"
I oan-io, kā thiap-chio̍h the̍h tiāu, iōng sin-khu ê tāng-liōng sak chhia-á. Connie m̄-bat khòaⁿ tio̍h i chiah-nī chheⁿ-pe̍h: hiah-nī bô sim-chiâⁿ. Clifford chin ū tāng-liōng: soaⁿ-phiâⁿ koh kiā. Connie kiâⁿ kàu khàn-siú sin piⁿ.
"Góa lâi tàu sak!" yi kóng.
Yi iōng cha-bó͘-lâng siū-khì liáu ê khùi-la̍t khai-sí sak. Chhia-á kiâⁿ liáu ū khah kín. Clifford oa̍t-thâu khòaⁿ.
"Che kám ū su-iàu?" i mn̄g.
"Chin su-iàu! Lí m̄-thang hāi sí lâng! Mohtà bô pháiⁿ chìn-chêng, ná m̄..."
M̄-koh yi ōe bô kóng liáu. Yi í-keng teh chhoán ah. Yi pàng khah sang leh, in-ūi che sī chia̍h-la̍t ê khang-khòe.
"Ái! bān-bān tō hó!" hit-lâng tī piⁿ-á kóng, ba̍k-chiu chhiò-chhiò.
"Lí khak-tēng, lí bô siū-siong?" yi chhiah pê-pê kā mn̄g.
I iô-thâu. Yi khòaⁿ i he sè-sè, té-té, ū oa̍h-la̍t, hō͘ ji̍t-thâu pha̍k-o͘ ê chhiú. Tō sī hit ki chhiú so yi ê sin-khu. Í-chêng yi sīm-chì m̄-bat khòaⁿ i hit ki chhiú. He khòaⁿ khí-lâi ná-chhiūⁿ i hiah an-chēng, ū chi̍t-chióng hiòng lāi ê an-chēng, hō͘ yi siūⁿ boeh kā lia̍h tio̍h, ná-chhiūⁿ he sī tī yi chhun bē kàu ê só͘-chāi. Yi kui-ê lêng-hûn hut-jiân sàu hiòng i: i hiah-nī chēng, hiah-nī hn̄g! I kám-kak i ê kha-chhiú koh ū-la̍t ah. Iōng tò-chhiú sak chhia-á, i kā chiàⁿ-chhiú khǹg tī yi îⁿ koh pe̍h ê chhiú-oán, khin-jiû kā khan tio̍h, ná kā so. Le̍k-liōng ê hóe-iām sio lo̍h i ê kha-chiah-āu kap i ê ē-io, hō͘ i koh oa̍h khí-lâi. Yi hiông-hiông àⁿ lo̍h chim i ê chhiú. Hit-sî, Clifford tī in thâu-chêng, i ê āu-náu thêng-thêng, bô tín-tāng.
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13.7 伊倒手捒車仔, 正手牽她
無人應聲. Mellors kā 銃幌去肩頭, 面色怪怪, 無表情, 干焦現出無所謂 ê 耐性. 彼隻狗仔, Flossie, 徛 tī 主人跤邊守備, ngia̍uh-ngia̍uh 動, 用懷疑 kap 討厭 ê 目色看彼車仔, ká-ná 對這三个人真困擾. 這是 tī 硩倒 ê 藍鈴花中間 ê 一幅活跳 ê 圖. 彼時無人出聲.
"我想, 伊著愛人 kā 捒," 最後 Clifford 講, 假 kah 誠冷靜.
無人應. Mellors 無所謂 ê 面色 ká-ná 伊無聽著啥. Connie 急切看伊. Clifford mā 越頭看.
"Mellors, kā 車仔捒轉去好無?" 伊用頂司冷淡 ê 口氣講. "希望我無得失著你," 伊 koh 用無歡喜 ê 聲調講.
"無代誌, Clifford Sià! 你愛我捒車仔, hoⁿh?"
"拜託你."
彼人向前: m̄-koh 這改無效. 車 ê 擋仔 khê 著. In koh 托, koh giú, 看守 koh kā 銃 kap 外套囥落. Chit-má Clifford 一句話 mā 無講. 最後看守 kā 車仔 ùi 後壁扛懸, 隨 koh 用跤去踢, 想欲放鬆 khê 著 ê 輪仔. 無效, 車仔 koh lak 落塗跤. Clifford 掠牢車仔雙爿. 車仔 ê 重量予彼人怦怦喘.
"莫 án-ne 創!" Connie kā 伊喝.
"你 kā 輪 án-ne 搝一下, án-ne!" 伊 kā 她講, ná 指示她按怎做.
"莫! 毋通扛車仔起來! 你會 koāiⁿ 著家己," 她講, 氣 kah 面紅紅.
M̄-koh 伊看她 ê 目睭, koh tìm 頭. 她 tō 行去扞輪仔, 好勢. 伊攑懸, 她搝一下, 車仔自 án-ne 振動 ah.
"天公保庇!" Clifford 驚 kah 叫出來.
M̄-koh, 攏好勢 ah, 擋仔無 khê 著 ah. 看守 tī 輪仔下 seh 一粒石頭, 走去坐 tī 塗岸, 因為出大力, 心跳, 面白, 強欲昏去.
Connie 看伊, 險險氣 kah 哭出來. 逐个靜落來, 恬恬. 她看著伊 ê 雙手 tī 大腿頂 khū-khū 顫.
"你有受傷無?" 她問, ná 行向伊.
"無. 無!" 伊 kā 頭越走, ká-ná teh 受氣.
一陣死恬. Clifford 心適 ê 頭無振動. 彼隻狗 mā 恬恬無動. 天頂已經崁雲.
最後看守吐一口氣, koh 用紅色手巾擤鼻.
"肺炎予我加真無氣力," 伊講.
無人應聲. Connie 撙節攑懸車仔 kap 大箍把 ê Clifford 所需要 ê 氣力: 真食力, siuⁿ 食力 lah! 甚至會買命!
伊徛起來, 提伊 ê 外套, kā 掛 tī 車仔後 ê 橫杆.
"你準備好未, Clifford Sià?"
"我 teh 等你!"
伊彎腰, kā thiap 石提掉, 用身軀 ê 重量捒車仔. Connie m̄-bat 看著伊 chiah-nī 青白: hiah-nī 無心 chiâⁿ. Clifford 真有重量: 山坪 koh 崎. Connie 行到看守身邊.
"我來鬥捒!" 她講.
她用查某人受氣了 ê 氣力開始捒. 車仔行了有較緊. Clifford 越頭看.
"這敢有需要?" 伊問.
"真需要! 你毋通害死人! Mohtà 無歹進前, 那毋..."
M̄-koh 她話無講了. 她已經 teh 喘 ah. 她放較鬆 leh, 因為這是食力 ê khang-khòe.
"Ái! 慢慢 tō 好!" 彼人 tī 邊仔講, 目睭笑笑.
"你確定, 你無受傷?" 她刺耙耙 kā 問.
伊搖頭. 她看伊彼細細, 短短, 有活力, 予日頭曝烏 ê 手. Tō 是彼支手挲她 ê 身軀. 以前她甚至 m̄-bat 看伊彼支手. 彼看起來 ná 像伊 hiah 安靜, 有一種向內 ê 安靜, 予她想欲 kā 掠著, ná 像彼是 tī 她伸袂到 ê 所在. 她規个靈魂忽然掃向伊: 伊 hiah-nī 靜, hiah-nī 遠! 伊感覺伊 ê 跤手 koh 有力 ah. 用倒手捒車仔, 伊 kā 正手囥 tī 她圓 koh 白 ê 手腕, 輕柔 kā 牽著, ná kā 挲. 力量 ê 火焰燒落伊 ê 尻脊後 kap 伊 ê 下腰, 予伊 koh 活起來. 她雄雄 àⁿ 落唚伊 ê 手. 彼時, Clifford tī in 頭前, 伊 ê 後腦 thêng-thêng, 無振動.
--
13.7
No one answered. Mellors was slinging his gun over his shoulder, his face queer and expressionless, save for an abstracted look of patience. The dog Flossie, standing on guard almost between her master’s legs, moved uneasily, eyeing the chair with great suspicion and dislike, and very much perplexed between the three human beings. The TABLEAU VIVANT remained set among the squashed bluebells, nobody proffering a word.
’I expect she’ll have to be pushed,’ said Clifford at last, with an affectation of SANG FROID.
No answer. Mellors’ abstracted face looked as if he had heard nothing. Connie glanced anxiously at him. Clifford too glanced round.
’Do you mind pushing her home, Mellors!’ he said in a cool superior tone. ‘I hope I have said nothing to offend you,’ he added, in a tone of dislike.
’Nothing at all, Sir Clifford! Do you want me to push that chair?’
’If you please.’
The man stepped up to it: but this time it was without effect. The brake was jammed. They poked and pulled, and the keeper took off his gun and his coat once more. And now Clifford said never a word. At last the keeper heaved the back of the chair off the ground and, with an instantaneous push of his foot, tried to loosen the wheels. He failed, the chair sank. Clifford was clutching the sides. The man gasped with the weight.
’Don’t do it!’ cried Connie to him.
’If you’ll pull the wheel that way, so!’ he said to her, showing her how.
’No! You mustn’t lift it! You’ll strain yourself,’ she said, flushed now with anger.
But he looked into her eyes and nodded. And she had to go and take hold of the wheel, ready. He heaved and she tugged, and the chair reeled.
’For God’s sake!’ cried Clifford in terror.
But it was all right, and the brake was off. The keeper put a stone under the wheel, and went to sit on the bank, his heart beat and his face white with the effort, semi-conscious.
Connie looked at him, and almost cried with anger. There was a pause and a dead silence. She saw his hands trembling on his thighs.
’Have you hurt yourself?’ she asked, going to him.
’No. No!’ He turned away almost angrily.
There was dead silence. The back of Clifford’s fair head did not move. Even the dog stood motionless. The sky had clouded over.
At last he sighed, and blew his nose on his red handkerchief.
’That pneumonia took a lot out of me,’ he said.
No one answered. Connie calculated the amount of strength it must have taken to heave up that chair and the bulky Clifford: too much, far too much! If it hadn’t killed him!
He rose, and again picked up his coat, slinging it through the handle of the chair.
’Are you ready, then, Sir Clifford?’
’When you are!’
He stooped and took out the scotch, then put his weight against the chair. He was paler than Connie had ever seen him: and more absent. Clifford was a heavy man: and the hill was steep. Connie stepped to the keeper’s side.
’I’m going to push too!’ she said.
And she began to shove with a woman’s turbulent energy of anger. The chair went faster. Clifford looked round.
’Is that necessary?’ he said.
’Very! Do you want to kill the man! If you’d let the motor work while it would—’
But she did not finish. She was already panting. She slackened off a little, for it was surprisingly hard work.
’Ay! slower!’ said the man at her side, with a faint smile of his eyes.
’Are you sure you’ve not hurt yourself?’ she said fiercely.
He shook his head. She looked at his smallish, short, alive hand, browned by the weather. It was the hand that caressed her. She had never even looked at it before. It seemed so still, like him, with a curious inward stillness that made her want to clutch it, as if she could not reach it. All her soul suddenly swept towards him: he was so silent, and out of reach! And he felt his limbs revive. Shoving with his left hand, he laid his right on her round white wrist, softly enfolding her wrist, with a caress. And the flame of strength went down his back and his loins, reviving him. And she bent suddenly and kissed his hand. Meanwhile the back of Clifford’s head was held sleek and motionless, just in front of them.
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