Wednesday, October 14, 2020

16.2 雨停了, 伊有來飼雉雞

16.2 Hō͘ thêng liáu, i ū lâi chhī thī-ke
Taⁿ yi ê kháu-khì un-hô. Chóng-sī, ná tio̍h khì jiá i siū-khì! I pòaⁿ-sìn pòaⁿ-gî khòaⁿ yi.
"Khòaⁿ lí ê thâu-chang!" i kóng; "khòaⁿ lí ka-tī!"
"Sī lah!" yi tìn-chēng kā ìn. "Góa bô chhēng-saⁿ tī hō͘ nih cháu chi̍t-khùn."
I siòng yi, bô kóng siáⁿ.
"Lí it-tēng sī khí-siáu ah!" i kóng.
"Án-chóaⁿ kóng? Lâm-hō͘ sé-e̍k sī khí-siáu?"
"Lí án-chóaⁿ chhit ta sin-khu?"
"Iōng chi̍t-tiâu kū bīn-kin kap hang-hóe."
I iáu sī iōng hàu-tai bīn khòaⁿ yi.
"M̄-kiaⁿ ū lâng lâi?" i kóng.
"Siáng ē lâi?"
"Siáng? Siáng to ū khó-lêng! Chhiūⁿ Mellors. I ū lâi bô? Boeh-àm i lóng ē khì hia."
"Tio̍h, āu-lâi hō͘ thêng liáu, i ū lâi, lâi chhī thī-ke chia̍h hoan-be̍h."
Yi kóng kah chiok léng-chēng. Tī keh-piah thau-thiaⁿ ê Bolton Tt, thiaⁿ kah chiâⁿ phòe-ho̍k. Ū chiah gâu sûi-ki èng-piàn ê cha-bó͘!
"Ká-sú kóng, i lâi ê sî, lí tú-hó ná siáu-pô tī hō͘ nih cháu-lâi cháu-khì?"
"Góa siūⁿ, i ē heh kah bô-miā, sûi cháu kah li̍h-khò͘-kha."
Clifford iáu sī gāng-gāng khòaⁿ yi. I ê ē-ì-sek tàu-té sī teh siūⁿ siáⁿ, i ka-tī mā m̄-chai. In-ūi siuⁿ-kòe tio̍h-kiaⁿ, i soah liân téng-ì-sek mā bô siáⁿ-mih chheng-chhó ê siūⁿ-hoat. I kan-ta khang-pe̍h chiap-siū yi só͘ kóng ê. I phòe-ho̍k yi, put-chū-kak phòe-ho̍k. Yi khòaⁿ khí-lâi sī hiah-nī âng-gê koh bí-lē koh kong-chhái: he sī ài-chêng ê kong-chhái.
"Siōng-bô," i kóng, bān-bān pêng-chēng lo̍h-lâi, "nā bô kôaⁿ-tio̍h, lí sǹg chin hó-ūn."
"Oh, góa bô kôaⁿ-tio̍h lah," yi ìn. Yi ê sim-nih ná teh siūⁿ iáu chi̍t-ê cha-po͘ kóng ê ōe: Lír ū sè-kài it ê cha-bó͘ kha-chhng! Yi hi-bāng, yi chin-chiàⁿ hi-bāng ē-tàng kā Clifford kóng, tī lûi-kong-hō͘ ê sî, ū lâng án-ne kā yi kóng. M̄-koh, yi kek kah ná-chhiūⁿ hông ngó͘-ge̍k ê hông-hiō, tō peh chiūⁿ lâu-téng khì ōaⁿ-saⁿ.
Hit àm, Clifford siūⁿ boeh tùi yi khah hó chi̍t-ē. I tng teh tha̍k chi̍t pún sin chhut ê iú-koan kho-ha̍k chong-kàu ê chheh: i pun-sin tùi chong-kàu pēng bô chin-sim, iū-koh chū-su kan-ta koan-sim ka-tī ê bī-lâi. I si̍p-koàn kap Connie khai-káng iú-koan bó͘ chi̍t-pún chheh, in-ūi chóng-sī su-iàu nn̄g-lâng chi-kan ê kau-tâm, ná-chhiūⁿ hòa-ha̍k ê hoán-èng. In lóng iōng hòa-ha̍k hong-hoat tī thâu-khak tiâu-phòe boeh kóng ê ōe.
"Eh, che lí án-chóaⁿ siūⁿ?" i kóng, ná khì the̍h i ê chheh. "Ká-sú lán ê bī-lâi koh ū kúi-nā ê sî-kî ê chìn-hòa, lí tio̍h bô-su-iàu cháu khì hō͘ tiong ak liâng lí sio-thǹg ê sin-khu. Ah, tī chia!... ‘Ú-tiū hián-sī nn̄g-chióng bīn-māu: chi̍t-hong-bīn, sī bu̍t-chit siōng ê siau-si̍h͘, lēng chi̍t-hong-bīn, sī cheng-sîn siōng ê thê-seng.’"
Connie boeh thiaⁿ i kè-sio̍k kóng. M̄-koh Clifford teh tán yi tap. Yi kám-kak kî-koài, khòaⁿ i.
"Jû-kó cheng-sîn siōng thê-seng," yi kóng, "i lâu siáⁿ tī ē-bīn, lâu tī i goân-pún ê hit-ê só͘-chāi?"
"Ah!" i kóng. "Tio̍h iōng chok-chiá ê ì-sù lâi kóng. Góa siūⁿ, thê-seng tō sī siau-si̍h͘ ê tian-tò-péng."
"Ē-sái kóng, cheng-sîn pōng-phòa!"
"M̄-sī, chèng-keng kóng, mài kún-chhiò: lí kám-kak che ū siáⁿ ì-gī bô?"
Yi koh khòaⁿ i.
"Bu̍t-chit siōng ê siau-si̍h͘?" yi kóng. "Góa khòaⁿ lí piàn tōa-kho͘, góa mā bô siau-si̍h͘ ka-tī. Lí ū kám-kak ji̍t-thâu piàn khah sè bô? Góa khòaⁿ sī bô. Góa siūⁿ, chá-chêng Adam hō͘ Eve ê lìngò mā bē pí lán chit-má ê phōng-kó khah tōa. Lí siūⁿ kám ū khah tōa?"
"Hó lah, lí thiaⁿ khòaⁿ i án-chóaⁿ kóng: ‘Sî-kan bān-bān keng-kòe, bān kah lán tùi sî-kan niû bē chhut-lâi ê bān, lâi-kàu sin ê chhòng-chō ê chêng-kéng, tī hia, lán chit-chūn só͘ chûn-chāi ê bu̍t-chit sè-kài chiong ē iû pho-tōng só͘ piáu-hiān, hit-chióng pho-tōng kap khang-hi sī bô-siáⁿ hun-pia̍t ê.’"
Yi kám-kak hó-sńg kā thiaⁿ. Choân sī kok-chióng ū-khang-bô-sún ê tāi-chì. M̄-koh yi kan-ta án-ne kóng:
"Hàm-kó͘ ê hó͘-lān! Bē-su i sió-sió ê chū-ngó͘ ì-sek ē-tàng chai-iáⁿ só͘-ū hiah-ê kú-kú tn̂g-tn̂g ê tāi-chì! He kan-ta piáu-bêng, i sī bu̍t-chit ê sit-pāi chiá, só͘-í i boeh kā choân ú-tiū mā piàn-chò bu̍t-chit ê sit-pāi chiá. M̄-chiâⁿ kúi-koài ê put-tap put-chhit!"
"Oh, lí koh thiaⁿ! M̄-thang phah tn̄g chit-ê úi-jîn ê chong-giâm ê ōe! ... ‘Bo̍k-chêng sè-kài ê chit-chióng chōng-thài sī ùi siūⁿ bē-kàu ê kòe-khì seⁿ chhut-lâi ê, mā ē tī siūⁿ bē-kàu ê bī-lâi sí-bông. Chhun lo̍h-lâi ê sī thiu-siōng hêng-thé bô-chīn ê khu-kài, kap chhian-piàn bān-hòa ê chhòng-chō-le̍k, chiah-ê lóng sī iû i ka-tī ê chhòng-chō kap chú-cháiⁿ bān-bu̍t hêng-thé ê Sîn só͘ koat-tēng ê.’ ... Án-ne, che tō sī i ê lí-lūn!"
--
16.2 雨停了, 伊有來飼雉雞
今她 ê 口氣溫和. 總是著去惹伊受氣! 伊半信半疑看她.
"看你 ê 頭鬃!" 伊講; "看你家己!"
"lah!" 她鎮靜 . "我無穿衫 nih 走一睏."
伊相她, 無講啥.
"你一定是起痟 ah!" 伊講.
"按怎講? 淋雨洗浴是起痟?"
"你按怎拭焦身軀?"
"用一條舊面巾 kap 烘火."
伊猶是用孝呆面看她.
"毋驚有人來?" 伊講.
"Siáng 會來?"
"Siáng? Siáng 都有可能! Mellors. 伊有來無? 欲暗伊攏會去遐."
", 後來雨停了, 伊有來, 來飼雉雞食番麥."
她講 kah 足冷靜. Tī 隔壁偷聽 ê Bolton Tt, kah 誠佩服. chiah gâu 隨機應變 ê 查某!
"假使講, 伊來 ê , 你拄好 痟婆 nih 走來走去?"
"我想, 伊會嚇 kah 無命, 隨走 kah li̍h 褲跤."
Clifford 猶是愣愣看她. ê 下意識到底是 teh 想啥, 伊家己 毋知. 因為 siuⁿ 過著驚, 伊煞連頂意識 無啥物清楚 ê 想法. 伊干焦空白接受她所講 ê. 伊佩服她, 不自覺佩服. 她看起來是 hiah-nī 紅牙 koh 美麗 koh 光彩: 彼是愛情 ê 光彩.
"上無," 伊講, 慢慢平靜落來, "若無寒著, 你算真好運."
"Oh, 我無寒著 lah," 她應. ê nih ná teh 想猶一个查埔講 ê : Lír 有 sè-kài-it ê 查某尻川! 她希望, 她真正希望會當 kā Clifford , tī 雷公雨 ê , 有人 án-ne kā 她講. M̄-koh, 她激 kah ná hông 忤逆 ê 皇后, tō peh 上樓頂去換衫.
彼暗, Clifford 想欲對她較好一下. tng teh 讀一本新出 ê 有關科學宗教 ê : 伊本身對宗教並無真心, koh 自私干焦關心家己 ê 未來. 伊習慣 kap Connie 開講有關某一本冊, 因為總是需要兩人之間 ê 交談, ná 像化學 ê 反應. In 攏用化學方法 頭殼調配欲講 ê .
"Eh, 這你按怎想?" 伊講, ná 去提伊 ê . "假使咱 ê 未來 koh 有幾若 ê 時期 ê 進化, 你著無需要走去雨中沃涼你燒燙 ê 身軀. Ah, tī !... ‘宇宙顯示兩種面貌: 一方面, 是物質上 ê 消蝕, 另一方面, 是精神上 ê 提升.’"
Connie 欲聽伊繼續講. M̄-koh Clifford teh 等她答. 她感覺奇怪, 看伊.
"如果精神上提升," 她講, "伊留啥 下面, tī 伊原本 ê 彼个所在?"
"Ah!" 伊講. "著用作者 ê 意思來講. 我想, 提升 是消蝕 ê 顛倒 péng."
"會使講, 精神磅破!"
"毋是, 正經講, 莫滾笑: 你感覺這有啥意義無?"
koh 看伊.
"物質上 ê 消蝕?" 她講. "我看你變大箍, 無消蝕家己. 你有感覺日頭變較細無? 我看是無. 我想, 早前 Adam Eve ê lìngò mā 袂比咱 chit-má ê 蘋果較大. 你想敢有較大?"
"lah, 你聽看伊按怎講: ‘時間慢慢經過, kah 咱對時間量袂出來 ê , 來到新 ê 創造 ê 情境, tī , 咱這陣所存在 ê 物質世界將會由波動所表現, 彼種波動 kap 空虛是無啥分別 ê.’"
她感覺好耍 . 全是各種有空無榫 ê 代誌. M̄-koh 她干焦 án-ne :
"譀古 ê 虎膦! 袂輸伊小小 ê 自我意識會當知影所有 hiah-ê 久久長長 ê 代誌! 彼干焦表明, 伊是物質 ê 失敗者, 所以伊欲 全宇宙 變做物質 ê 失敗者. 毋成鬼怪 ê 不答不七!"
"Oh, koh ! 毋通拍斷這个偉人 ê 莊嚴 ê ! ... ‘目前世界 ê 這種狀態是 ùi 想袂到 ê 過去生出來 ê, mā 想袂到 ê 未來死亡. 賰落來 ê 是抽象形體無盡 ê 區界, kap 千變萬化 ê 創造力, chiah-ê 攏是由伊家己 ê 創造 kap 主宰萬物形體 ê 神所決定 ê.’ ... Án-ne, 是伊 ê 理論!"
--
16.2
She spoke now easily. After all, why work him up any more! He looked at her suspiciously.
‘And look at your hair!’ he said; ‘look at yourself!’
’Yes!’ she replied calmly. ‘I ran out in the rain with no clothes on.’
He stared at her speechless.
’You must be mad!’ he said.
’Why? To like a shower bath from the rain?’
’And how did you dry yourself?’
’On an old towel and at the fire.’
He still stared at her in a dumbfounded way.
‘And supposing anybody came,’ he said.
’Who would come?’
’Who? Why, anybody! And Mellors. Does he come? He must come in the evenings.’
’Yes, he came later, when it had cleared up, to feed the pheasants with corn.’
She spoke with amazing nonchalance. Mrs Bolton, who was listening in the next room, heard in sheer admiration. To think a woman could carry it off so naturally!
’And suppose he’d come while you were running about in the rain with nothing on, like a maniac?’
’I suppose he’d have had the fright of his life, and cleared out as fast as he could.’
Clifford still stared at her transfixed. What he thought in his under-consciousness he would never know. And he was too much taken aback to form one clear thought in his upper consciousness. He just simply accepted what she said, in a sort of blank. And he admired her. He could not help admiring her. She looked so flushed and handsome and smooth: love smooth.
’At least,’ he said, subsiding, ‘you’ll be lucky if you’ve got off without a severe cold.’
’Oh, I haven’t got a cold,’ she replied. She was thinking to herself of the other man’s words: Tha’s got the nicest woman’s arse of anybody! She wished, she dearly wished she could tell Clifford that this had been said her, during the famous thunderstorm. However! She bore herself rather like an offended queen, and went upstairs to change.
That evening, Clifford wanted to be nice to her. He was reading one of the latest scientific-religious books: he had a streak of a spurious sort of religion in him, and was ego-centrically concerned with the future of his own ego. It was like his habit to make conversation to Connie about some book, since the conversation between them had to be made, almost chemically. They had almost chemically to concoct it in their heads.
’What do you think of this, by the way?’ he said, reaching for his book. ‘You’d have no need to cool your ardent body by running out in the rain, if only we have a few more aeons of evolution behind us. Ah, here it is! —’’The universe shows us two aspects: on one side it is physically wasting, on the other it is spiritually ascending.’’’
Connie listened, expecting more. But Clifford was waiting. She looked at him in surprise.
’And if it spiritually ascends,’ she said, ‘what does it leave down below, in the place where its tail used to be?’
’Ah!’ he said. ‘Take the man for what he means. ASCENDING is the opposite of his WASTING, I presume.’
’Spiritually blown out, so to speak!’
’No, but seriously, without joking: do you think there is anything in it?’
She looked at him again.
’Physically wasting?’ she said. ‘I see you getting fatter, and I’m not wasting myself. Do you think the sun is smaller than he used to be? He’s not to me. And I suppose the apple Adam offered Eve wasn’t really much bigger, if any, than one of our orange pippins. Do you think it was?’
’Well, hear how he goes on: ‘’It is thus slowly passing, with a slowness inconceivable in our measures of time, to new creative conditions, amid which the physical world, as we at present know it, will he represented by a ripple barely to be distinguished from nonentity.’’’
She listened with a glisten of amusement. All sorts of improper things suggested themselves. But she only said:
’What silly hocus-pocus! As if his little conceited consciousness could know what was happening as slowly as all that! It only means HE’S a physical failure on the earth, so he wants to make the whole universe a physical failure. Priggish little impertinence!’
’Oh, but listen! Don’t interrupt the great man’s solemn words! —’’The present type of order in the world has risen from an unimaginable part, and will find its grave in an unimaginable future. There remains the inexhaustive realm of abstract forms, and creativity with its shifting character ever determined afresh by its own creatures, and God, upon whose wisdom all forms of order depend.’’—There, that’s how he winds up!’
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