Connie and Clifford came home to Wragby in the autumn of 1920. Miss Chatterley, still disgusted at her brother's defection, had departed and was living in a little flat in London.
1920年秋，康妮随克利福德返回格拉比家中。而爱玛则仍因弟弟的背信弃义而忿忿不平，离家住进伦敦的一所小公寓。
Wragby was a long low old house in brown stone, begun about the middle of the eighteenth century, and added on to, till it was a warren of a place without much distinction.
拉格比府是座狭长低矮的旧宅，用褐色岩石堆砌而成，始建于18世纪中叶，后来几经扩建，直至变成一个其貌不扬、迷宫般的场所。
It stood on an eminence in a rather line old park of oak trees, but alas, one could see in the near distance the chimney of Tevershall pit, with its clouds of steam and smoke, and on the damp, hazy distance of the hill the raw straggle of Tevershall village, a village which began almost at the park gates, and trailed in utter hopeless ugliness for a long and gruesome mile: houses, rows of wretched, small, begrimed, brick houses, with black slate roofs for lids, sharp angles and wilful, blank dreariness.
它矗立在高岗之上，周围为栽满橡树的古老园林所环抱，但可惜的是，依然能看到不远处特弗沙尔矿坑烟囱，以及它吐出的团团蒸汽和浓烟。而在潮湿山坡上散落着的特弗沙尔村也依稀可见。那村落从园林门外起绵延长达一英里的距离，展现出赤裸裸、无可救药的丑陋图景。房屋，一排排肮脏污秽的低矮砖房，黑石板搭盖的顶棚，尖锐的棱角，肆意地透露着难言的凄凉氛围。
Connie was accustomed to Kensington or the Scotch hills or the Sussex downs: that was her England. With the stoicism of the young she took in the utter, soulless ugliness of the coal-and-iron Midlands at a glance, and left it at what it was: unbelievable and not to be thought about. From the rather dismal rooms at Wragby she heard the rattle-rattle of the screens at the pit, the puff of the winding-engine, the clink-clink of shunting trucks, and the hoarse little whistle of the colliery locomotives. Tevershall pit-bank was burning, had been burning for years, and it would cost thousands to put it out. So it had to burn. And when the wind was that way, which was often, the house was full of the stench of this sulphurous combustion of the earth's excrement. But even on windless days the air always smelt of something under-earth: sulphur, iron, coal, or acid. And even on the Christmas roses the smuts settled persistently, incredible, like black manna from the skies of doom.
康妮习惯了肯辛顿的生活，看惯了苏格兰式的高地，或是萨塞克斯（注：英国南部一郡，濒临英吉利海峡）的丘陵：那才是她心目中的英格兰。她以年轻人那种淡然的目光审视过煤铁矿林立的米德兰，将那种缺少灵魂的、如假包换的丑陋尽收眼底，之后便听之任之。她不愿相信它的存在，更加不想费神去思索。置身于拉格比府阴森森的房间里，康妮听到矿坑筛煤机的咔嗒声、卷扬机的噗噗声、载重卡车的叮当声、以及运煤机车汽笛的嘶鸣声。特弗沙尔矿坑口依然烈焰滚滚，将其扑灭想必需要花费大笔金钱。所以只好任它继续燃烧。每逢常见的顺风天气，格拉比府就会充溢着难闻的恶臭，那是腐土遇硫磺燃烧而产生的气味。甚至是无风的日子，空气中也充斥着来自地底的味道：硫磺、煤铁、或是酸性物质。就连圣诞蔷薇上也不可思议地经年附满煤尘，好似厄日天空降下的黑色甘露。
Well, there it was: fated like the rest of things! It was rather awful, but why kick? You couldn't kick it away. It just went on. Life, like all the rest! On the low dark ceiling of cloud at night red blotches burned and quavered, dappling and swelling and contracting, like burns that give pain. It was the furnaces. At first they fascinated Connie with a sort of horror; Then she got used to them. And in the morning it rained.
没错，事实就是如此，一切都是命中注定！虽然令人生畏，但抗争又有什么意义呢？摆脱命运的束缚如同痴人说梦。它仍会循路而行。生活也同样如此！夜晚黑压压的低矮云层中，燃烧着的斑驳的红点不断颤动，时而膨胀，时而收缩，如同让人疼痛难忍的灼伤。那是矿区炼煤的高炉。起初，康妮曾因此被某种恐惧攫住，但后来也渐渐习惯了这一切。早晨的时候，天下起了雨来。
Clifford professed to like Wragby better than London. This country had a grim will of its own, and the people had guts. Connie wondered what else they had: certainly neither eyes nor minds. The people were as haggard, shapeless, and dreary as the countryside, and as unfriendly. Only there was something in their deep-mouthed slurring of the dialect, and the thresh-thresh of their hob-nailed pit-boots as they trailed home in gangs on the asphalt from work, that was terrible and a bit mysterious.
克利福德声称比起伦敦，他还是更加青睐拉格比。这里拥有独树一帜的顽强意志，民众个个胆识过人。康妮怀疑除此以外，他们还有什么，高瞻远瞩和真知灼见跟他们是毫不沾边的。这里的居民个个形容枯槁，面貌丑陋，表情阴郁，态度冷漠，一如生养他们的这片土地。只有那低沉含混的土语，以及放工结伙回家时平头钉鞋踩在柏油路上发出的低沉作响踢踏声，让外来者既害怕又好奇。
There had been no welcome home for the young squire, no festivities, no deputation, not even a single flower. Only a dank ride in a motor-car up a dark, damp drive, burrowing through gloomy trees, out to the slope of the park where grey damp sheep were feeding, to the knoll where the house spread its dark brown facade, and the housekeeper and her husband were hovering, like unsure tenants on the face of the earth, ready to stammer a welcome.
当这对年轻的贵族夫妇返回故里，没有听到诚挚热情的问候，没有享受到接风洗尘的宴席，没有看到列队迎候的村众，甚至连朵鲜花都没有见到。只是体验到阴湿寒冷的旅程，汽车驶过漆黑潮湿的大道，钻进阴暗的密林，攀上放牧着湿漉漉的灰色羊群的坡地，停在那座深褐色建筑物坐落的山丘上。女管家及其丈夫正在那里来回踱步，像两个心神不宁的佃户，结结巴巴地编排着欢迎词。
There was no communication between Wragby Hall and Tevershall village, none. No caps were touched, no curtseys bobbed. The colliers merely stared; the tradesmen lifted their caps to Connie as to an acquaintance, and nodded awkwardly to Clifford; that was all. That was all. Gulf impassable, and a quiet sort of resentment on either side. At first Connie suffered from the steady drizzle of resentment that came from the village. Then she hardened herself to it, and it became a sort of tonic, something to live up to. It was not that she and Clifford were unpopular, they merely belonged to another species altogether from the colliers. Gulf impassable, breach indescribable, such as is perhaps nonexistent south of the Trent. But in the Midlands and the industrial North gulf impassable, across which no communication could take place. You stick to your side, I'll stick to mine! A strange denial of the common pulse of humanity.
拉格比府与特弗沙尔村并无半点瓜葛，毫不往来。男人不脱帽致敬，女人不屈膝行礼。矿工们只是瞪眼凝视着他们，商贩们向康妮举举帽子，像是遇到相熟的人，对克里福德则会尴尬地点点头，仅此而已。仅此而已。双方被难以逾越的鸿沟隔开，心中深埋着无言的仇恨。起初，康妮因村民们细雨般不绝的仇恨颇觉苦恼。但还是逐渐硬起心肠，将这种恨意当作赖以为生的某种强身药剂。并非她与丈夫不受欢迎，只是他们与矿工们完全属于不同的阶层而已。人际间难以逾越的鸿沟，无法言喻的裂痕，或许在特伦特河以南的地区难觅其踪。但在中北部的工业区，这种不可调和的分歧却让不同阶级的人们断绝往来。你走你的阳关道，我过我的独木桥！这对人性中共通的情感是种无端地否定。
Yet the village sympathized with Clifford and Connie in the abstract. In the flesh it was—You leave me alone!—on either side.
然而在抽象中，村民们仍对查泰莱夫妇深感同情。而在实际中，双方却都坚守着“你别来管我！”的信条。
The rector was a nice man of about sixty, full of his duty, and reduced, personally, almost to a nonentity by the silent—You leave me alone!—of the village. The miners' wives were nearly all Methodists. The miners were nothing. But even so much official uniform as the clergyman wore was enough to obscure entirely the fact that he was a man like any other man. No, he was Mester Ashby, a sort of automatic preaching and praying concern.
年过花甲的教区长和蔼可亲，尽职尽责，但村民们这种各扫门前雪的冷漠态度，却让他几乎变成可有可无的人物。矿工的妻子们几乎是清一色的卫理公会信徒。矿工们却不信教。但身着牧师法袍，已经足够彻底掩饰他是个普通人这个事实。他不是普通人，他是阿什比牧师大人，一种讲道和祈祷自动机械。
This stubborn, instinctive—We think ourselves as good as you, if you are Lady Chatterley!—puzzled and baffled Connie at first extremely. The curious, suspicious, false amiability with which the miners' wives met her overtures; the curiously offensive tinge of—Oh dear me! I AM somebody now, with Lady Chatterley talking to me! But she needn't think I'm not as good as her for all that!—which she always heard twanging in the women's half-fawning voices, was impossible.
“就算你被尊为查泰莱夫人，但其实跟我们没有什么区别！”起初，村民们这种本能的固执的态度，让康妮感到十分困扰和为难。每当她主动向矿工家眷示好，总会换来怪里怪气、将信将疑的虚情假意，还有那莫名其妙的咄咄逼人的言语：我的天呢！现在我可是大人物了，查泰莱夫人跟我说话来着！可她也别认为这样就可以看扁我！主妇们那半是阿谀的话语中带着浓重的鼻音，在康妮的耳边时时回荡，确实让人难以忍受。
There was no getting past it.
但却是无法回避的。
It was hopelessly and offensively nonconformist.
这些不皈依国教的乡下佬简直无可救药，令人反感。
Clifford left them alone, and she learnt to do the same: she just went by without looking at them, and they stared as if she were a walking wax figure. When he had to deal with them, Clifford was rather haughty and contemptuous; one could no longer afford to be friendly. In fact he was altogether rather supercilious and contemptuous of anyone not in his own class. He stood his ground, without any attempt at conciliation. And he was neither liked nor disliked by the people: he was just part of things, like the pit-bank and Wragby itself.
克利福德从不搭理他们，康妮也学着依样照做：每次擦身而过，总是目不斜视，而村民们则不约而同地盯着她看，仿佛在凝视一座会走路的蜡像。当不得不跟他们打交道时，克利福德总是摆出傲慢骄横的神态，给这些家伙好脸色并不是明智的选择。事实上，他对于所有非其阶层的人们，都保持着这种不屑一顾的高傲态度。他固守着自己的阵地，没有任何修好的意图。村民们对克利福德无甚好感，但也并不讨厌：他不过是生活的组成部分，跟矿坑和格拉比府没什么两样。
But Clifford was really extremely shy and self-conscious now he was lamed. He hated seeing anyone except just the personal servants. For he had to sit in a wheeled chair or a sort of bath-chair. Nevertheless he was just as carefully dressed as ever, by his expensive tailors, and he wore the careful Bond Street neckties just as before, and from the top he looked just as smart and impressive as ever. He had never been one of the modern ladylike young men: rather bucolic even, with his ruddy face and broad shoulders. But his very quiet, hesitating voice, and his eyes, at the same time bold and frightened, assured and uncertain, revealed his nature. His manner was often offensively supercilious, and then again modest and self-effacing, almost tremulous.
然而自从意识到自己再也无法行走，克利福德就变得极端怯懦。除了自家的仆从，他不愿见到任何其他的人。因为残废的他只能坐在轮椅或者巴斯椅上。然而，他仍会像以往一样，穿着高级裁缝为他量身剪裁的高档服装，系着邦德街买回的精致领带，若仅看上半身，他依旧风流倜傥，气度非凡。克利福德本就没有时下青年的那副娘娘腔，红润的脸庞，外加宽厚的肩膀，让他看起来倒有几分牧民的气质。但他那细微迟疑的声音，兼具果敢与畏缩、自信与不安的眼神，则透露出他的本性。他的举止有时傲慢得让人难以忍受，有时却谨慎谦恭到怯懦战栗的地步。
Connie and he were attached to one another, in the aloof modern way. He was much too hurt in himself, the great shock of his maiming, to be easy and flippant. He was a hurt thing. And as such Connie stuck to him passionately.
康妮和他彼此依恋，又相互疏远，这可是时下夫妻间最盛行的相处之道。因伤致残对克利福德的打击过重，使其心灵倍受煎熬，再也无法像过去那般轻松释然。可怜的他身心俱伤。而康妮则对他情根深种，不离不弃。
But she could not help feeling how little connexion he really had with people. The miners were, in a sense, his own men; but he saw them as objects rather than men, parts of the pit rather than parts of life, crude raw phenomena rather than human beings along with him. He was in some way afraid of them, he could not bear to have them look at him now he was lame. And their queer, crude life seemed as unnatural as that of hedgehogs.
但她还是不禁觉得丈夫与他人缺乏沟通。矿工们可以说都是他的仆从，但他始终把他们当作没有生命的物体、而非活生生的人来看待，当他们是矿场而非生活的组成部分，是粗鄙天然事物，而非和自己一般无二的人类。克利福德甚至有些惧怕他们，受不了让他们看到自己如今这副残缺不全的模样。而他们过着古怪粗劣的生活，简直跟反常的刺猬没什么两样。
He was remotely interested; but like a man looking down a microscope, or up a telescope. He was not in touch. He was not in actual touch with anybody, save, traditionally, with Wragby, and, through the close bond of family defence, with Emma. Beyond this nothing really touched him. Connie felt that she herself didn't really, not really touch him; perhaps there was nothing to get at ultimately; just a negation of human contact.
他远远地关注着他们的行为举动，像是通过显微镜或者望远镜去观察事物一样。但却跟他们没有半点往来。除了跟拉格比府的传统纽带、以及和艾玛的血亲关系，他几乎与其他任何人都没有实质性的接触。除此之外，没有什么能真正触及他的内心。康妮觉得连自己也无法真正确实地拨动丈夫的心弦，或许根本没有什么能做到这一点，克利福德的存在恰恰是对人际交往的某种否定。
Yet he was absolutely dependent on her, he needed her every moment. Big and strong as he was, he was helpless. He could wheel himself about in a wheeled chair, and he had a sort of bath-chair with a motor attachment, in which he could puff slowly round the park. But alone he was like a lost thing. He needed Connie to be there, to assure him he existed at all.
但他对妻子的依赖已经到达无可附加的地步，时时刻刻需要她陪在身旁。他虽然魁梧健硕，却无法自立。他能够驱动轮椅四处走走，还可以驾着装有马达的巴斯轮椅，缓缓地在自家园林里兜圈。但每当独处，他就像只迷途的羔羊。他需要康妮伴随左右，只有如此，才能确信自己真真切切地活在世间。
Still he was ambitious. He had taken to writing stories; curious, very personal stories about people he had known. Clever, rather spiteful, and yet, in some mysterious way, meaningless. The observation was extraordinary and peculiar. But there was no touch, no actual contact. It was as if the whole thing took place in a vacuum. And since the field of life is largely an artificially-lighted stage today, the stories were curiously true to modern life, to the modern psychology, that is.
虽然身残，但克利福德依然不失鸿鹄之志。他醉心于小说的创作。这些作品描述的是他身边熟悉的人物个人的奇特故事。笔触聪颖机智，流露出些许恶毒之感，却又因情节神秘莫测而缺乏深意。其出色的观察力异乎常人。但缺少与他人实际的接触和沟通。他笔下的一切似乎都发生在虚无缥缈的空中楼阁里。由于如今的人们多半生活在人造光线点亮的舞台之上，克利福德的小说倒是与现代的生活和现代人的心理颇为契合。
Clifford was almost morbidly sensitive about these stories. He wanted everyone to think them good, of the best, NE PLUS ULTRA. They appeared in the most modern magazines, and were praised and blamed as usual. But to Clifford the blame was torture, like knives goading him. It was as if the whole of his being were in his stories.
克利福德对这些小说的在意，几乎达到病态的地步。他渴望世人都为之拍案叫绝，将其视为无可匹敌的巅峰之作。他的作品发表在最时兴的杂志上，得到的评价自然也是毁誉参半。但对于克利福德来说，毁訾无异于痛苦的折磨，简直就像用刀剜他的肉。好像他生命的全部意义都存在于小说之中。
Connie helped him as much as she could. At first she was thrilled. He talked everything over with her monotonously, insistently, persistently, and she had to respond with all her might. It was as if her whole soul and body and sex had to rouse up and pass into theme stories of his. This thrilled her and absorbed her.