On Sunday Clifford wanted to go into the wood. It was a lovely morning, the pear-blossom and plum had suddenly appeared in the world in a wonder of white here and there.

时值周日，克利福德想去林中散散心。清晨，风和日煦，梨花李花陡然降世，满眼白色，令人叹为观止。

It was cruel for Clifford, while the world bloomed, to have to be helped from chair to bath-chair. But he had forgotten, and even seemed to have a certain conceit of himself in his lameness. Connie still suffered, having to lift his inert legs into place. Mrs. Bolton did it now, or Field.

正值百花争艳之时，克利福德仍需别人施以援手，才能从家用轮椅换到电动轮椅上，这样的现实的确残酷。但他早已将此遗忘，甚至对自己的残废之躯滋生出自满的情绪。目睹别人把丈夫那毫无知觉的双腿搬过去，放到合适的位置，康妮心里仍感到难受。如今，这差事由博尔顿太太或者菲尔德代劳。

She waited for him at the top of the drive, at the edge of the screen of beeches. His chair came puffing along with a sort of valetudinarian slow importance. As he joined his wife he said: "Sir Clifford on his foaming steed!" "Snorting, at least!" She laughed.

她在车道顶端等他，两棵山毛榉树投下的阴影堪堪将她遮住。轮椅发动起来，噗噗响着，可行进速度如同久病之人那样缓慢。他来到妻子身边时说：“克利福德爵士跨乘唾沫四溅的骏马！”“至少是喷吐鼻息的骏马！”她笑着说。

He stopped and looked round at the facade of the long, low old brown house.

他停住轮椅，回望那座狭长低矮的褐色老屋。

"Wragby doesn't wink an eyelid!” He said. "But then why should it! I ride upon the achievements of the mind of man, and that beats a horse." "I suppose it does. And the souls in Plato riding up to heaven in a two-horse chariot would go in a Ford car now," she said.

“拉格比连眼皮都不抬一下！”他说。“可为什么要抬呢！人类智慧建立的功勋都任我驾驭，比骑匹骏马胜强百倍。”“确实如此。当年柏拉图的灵魂登临天堂，驾的是骈马战车，现在的话，应该换成福特轿车才对。”她说。

"Or a Rolls-Royce: Plato was an aristocrat!” "Quite! No more black horse to thrash and maltreat. Plato never thought we'd go one better than his black steed and his white steed, and have no steeds at all, only an engine!” "Only an engine and gas!" Said Clifford.

“或许要劳斯莱斯才行呢，柏拉图可是位贵族呢！”“有道理！黑色骏马无需再受人鞭笞与虐待。柏拉图做梦也想不到，我们如今比他的黑白二骏更胜一筹，而且根本就没有骏马，有的只是马达！”“只有马达和汽油。”克利福德说。

"I hope I can have some repairs done to the old place next year. I think I shall have about a thousand to spare for that: but work costs so much!” He added.

“明年我想把旧矿区修缮一下。我估计这要花去上千英镑，但工程的耗费总是十分庞大！”他补充说。

"Oh, good!" Said Connie. "If only there aren't more strikes!” "What would be the use of their striking again! Merely ruin the industry, what's left of it: and surely the owls are beginning to see it!” "Perhaps they don't mind ruining the industry," said Connie.

“噢，很好！”康妮说。“但愿别再有罢工就好！”“他们再闹罢工也没什么用处！只会让煤矿工业毁于一旦，将仅存的硕果推上绝路，这些夜猫子很快就会明白我的话！”“或许他们并不在乎煤矿是否走向毁灭。”康妮说。

"Ah, don't talk like a woman!” The industry fills their bellies, even if it can't keep their pockets quite so flush," he said, using turns of speech that oddly had a twang of Mrs. Bolton.

“哈，真是妇人之见！就算煤矿工业无法填满他们的腰包，但至少可以让他们避免食不果腹的尴尬。”他说，语调中居然带着博尔顿太太惯用的鼻音。

"But didn't you say the other day that you were a conservative-anarchist," she asked innocently. He retorted. "And did you understand what I meant?" "All I meant is, people can be what they like and feel what they like and do what they like, strictly privately, so long as they keep the FORM of life intact, and the apparatus." Connie walked on in silence a few paces. Then she said, obstinately: "It sounds like saying an egg may go as addled as it likes, so long as it keeps its shell on whole. But addled eggs do break of themselves." "I don't think people are eggs," he said. "Not even angels' eggs, my dear little evangelist.” He was in rather high feather this bright morning. The larks were trilling away over the park, the distant pit in the hollow was fuming silent steam. It was almost like old days, before the war. Connie didn't really want to argue. But then she did not really want to go to the wood with Clifford either. So she walked beside his chair in a certain obstinacy of spirit.

“但你不是曾经以保守派无政府主义者自居吗？”她的问题有些幼稚。他反驳道。“你到底搞没搞清我的意思？”“我是说，人们大可以为所欲为，想所欲想，做所欲做，但这只局限于私生活方面，前提是他们能够保证生活和机制在形式上的完整性。”康妮默行数步。然后，她执拗地说：“这理论听起来是说，鸡蛋大可以臭掉，前提是它的壳保持完整。但坏掉的鸡蛋会自己爆掉。”“人怎么能跟鸡蛋划等号。”他说。“甚至不是天使的蛋，我亲爱的小传道士。”在这个明媚的清晨，他的情绪极佳。百灵鸟在园林上空啾唧啭鸣，远处山谷中的煤矿无声地升腾起蒸气。一切情境宛若旧日时光，大战爆发前的时光。康妮无心再去争辩。但她也再无兴致陪克利福德去林中徜徉。于是，她赌着气，走在轮椅旁边。

"No," he said. "There will be no more strikes, it. The thing is properly managed." "Why not?" "Because strikes will be made as good as impossible." "But will the men let you?" she asked.

“不。”他说。“如果一切尽在掌握，就不再会有罢工出现。”“为什么？”“因为罢工将变得难上加难。”“但矿工们会任由你摆布吗？”她问。

"We shan't ask them. We shall do it while they aren't looking: for their own good, to save the industry.” "For your own good too," she said.

“我们不会征求他们的意见。我们只会在他们还没留意时，就搞定一切，这也是为了他们着想，为了拯救煤矿业。”“也是为了你自己的利益。”她说。

"Naturally! For the good of everybody. But for their good even more than mine. I can live without the pits. They can't. They'll starve if there are no pits. I've got other provision.” They looked up the shallow valley at the mine, and beyond it, at the black-lidded houses of Tevershall crawling like some serpent up the hill. From the old brown church the bells were ringing: Sunday, Sunday, Sunday!

“那是当然！为了所有人的利益。但他们得到的好处甚至比我还多。即使失去煤矿，我依然能够生存。他们却不能。没有煤矿，他们统统都要挨饿。而我还有别的经济来源。”他们来到浅谷顶端，遥望着煤矿，还有远处那长蛇般蜿蜒曲折的农舍。那些黑色顶棚的房子属于特弗沙尔村。褐色的老教堂传来钟声，告诉所有人周日的降临。

"But will the men let you dictate terms?" She said. "My dear, they will have to: if one does it gently.” "But mightn't there be a mutual understanding?” "Absolutely: when they realize that the industry comes before the individual.” "But must you own the industry?" She said.

“但他们会任由你发号施令吗？”她问。“亲爱的，如果采取怀柔政策，他们只能乖乖就范。”“难道就没有相互谅解的途径吗？”“当然有，前提是他们认识到产业的利益远远高于个人得失。”“但你非得占有煤矿吗？”她问。

"I don't. But to the extent I do own it, yes, most decidedly. The ownership of property has now become a religious question: as it has been since Jesus and St. Francis. The point is NOT: take all thou hast and give to the poor, but use all thou hast to encourage the industry and give work to the poor. It's the only way to feed all the mouths and clothe all the bodies. Giving away all we have to the poor spells starvation for the poor just as much as for us. And universal starvation is no high aim. Even general poverty is no lovely thing. Poverty is ugly.” "But the disparity?" "That is fate. Why is the star Jupiter bigger than the star Neptune? You can't start altering the make-up of things!” "But when this envy and jealousy and discontent has once started," she began.

“并非如此。但既然已经拥有，那么，自然要继续下去。产权如今已经上升成为宗教问题，自从耶稣基督和圣方济洛（注：1506-1552，西班牙传教士，耶稣会创始人之一）时代就是如此。问题的关键并非将你所拥有尽数施舍给穷苦大众，而是利用你所拥有的，推动产业的发展，给劳苦大众创造就业机会。这才是实现人人有饭吃，人人有衣穿的唯一途径。将我们所拥有的全部施舍给穷人，只会导致世人共同受饿的结果。人人挨饿并非崇高的目标。人人受穷也并非美妙的事情。贫穷即是丑陋。”“可贫富不均又怎样解决？”“这是命运使然。木星为何比海王星大呢？你无法改变宿命！”“但嫉妒和不满一旦出现。”她反唇相讥。

"Do, your best to stop it. Somebody's got to be boss of the show.” "But who is boss of the show?" she asked.

“尽全力阻止这种事情。总要有人当家做主。”“可由谁来扮演这一角色呢？”她问。

"The men who own and run the industries." There was a long silence.

“企业的所有者和运营者。”两人陷入长久的沉默。

"It seems to me they're a bad boss," she said.

“在我看来，他们不配做当家人。”她说。

"Then you suggest what they should do." "They don't take their boss-ship seriously enough," she said.

“那你说说看，他们到底应该怎样做。”“对待自己所占据的高位，他们理应更加审慎。”她说。

"They take it far more seriously than you take your ladyship," he said.

“他们更加看重自己的地位，绝不像你那样，根本不把从男爵夫人的头衔当回事。”他说。

"That's thrust upon me. I don't really want it," she blurted out. He stopped the chair and looked at her.

“那头衔不过是别人强加给我的。我压根儿就不稀罕。”她未加思索，脱口而出。他停住轮椅，看着自己的妻子。

"Who's shirking their responsibility now!” He said. "Who is trying to get away now from the responsibility of their own boss-ship, as you call it?” "But I don't want any boss-ship," she protested.

“现在到底是谁在推卸责任！”他说。“到底是谁在逃避你所谓的高位呢？”“可我根本就不想要高高在上。”她反驳道。

"Ah! But that is funk. You've got it: fated to it. And you should live up to it. Who has given the colliers all they have that's worth having: all their political liberty, and their education, such as it is, their sanitation, their health-conditions, their books, their music, everything. Who has given it them? Have colliers given it to colliers? No! All the Wragbys and Shipleys in England have given their part, and must go on giving. There's your responsibility.” Connie listened, and flushed very red.

“哈！可这是逃避的表现。你已经拥有这种身份，这是命运的安排。你不应让它蒙羞。是谁让矿工得到这值得拥有的一切：政治自由，教育机会，诸如此类，还有卫生条件，医疗保健，书籍，音乐，一切的一切？是谁给予他们这一切？是矿工自己吗？不！英格兰所有的拉格比和希普利们已然人尽其责，并将继续履行自己的使命。这就是你的责任。”康妮听着，脸涨得通红。

"I'd like to give something," she said. "But I'm not allowed. Everything is to be sold and paid for now; and all the things you mention now, Wragby and Shipley SELL them to the people, at a good profit. Everything is sold. You don't give one heart-beat of real sympathy. And besides, who has taken away from the people their natural life and manhood, and given them this industrial horror? Who has done that?” "And what must I do?" He asked, green. "Ask them to come and pillage me?" "Why is Tevershall so ugly, so hideous? Why are their lives so hopeless?" "They built their own Tevershall, that's part of their display of freedom. They built themselves their pretty Tevershall, and they live their own pretty lives. I can't live their lives for them. Every beetle must live its own life.” "But you make them work for you. They live the life of your coal-mine.” "Not at all. Every beetle finds its own food. Not one man is forced to work for me.

“我倒愿意给予些什么。”她说。“但却得不到允许。如今，所有的东西都是商品，明码标价，你刚才提到的全部，都由拉格比和希普利卖给穷苦大众，以博取高额的利润。所有的东西都需要用钱来买。你们从不屑施舍半点真正的同情。还有，是谁让劳苦大众英年早丧，毫无半点做人的尊严，对工业的发展充满畏惧？罪魁祸首究竟是谁？”“那么我应该怎样做？”他反问道，脸色铁青。“请他们来掠夺我？”“为什么特弗沙尔如此丑陋，如此粗鄙？为什么他们的生活毫无希望？”“他们按照自己的意愿建设特弗沙尔，这也是他们享有自由的体现。他们建设出自以为美好的特弗沙尔，过着自得其乐的生活。他们选择怎样的生活方式，我无法做主。就算是甲壳虫也要过自己的生活。”“但你逼他们为你干活。他们根本是为你的煤矿而活。”“一派胡言。就算是甲壳虫也能为自己觅得食物。我从未强迫任何人来煤矿做工。”

"Their lives are industrialized and hopeless, and so are ours," she cried.

“他们的生活是工业化的，丝毫没有希望，我们的生活也一般无二。”她喊道。

"I don't think they are. That's just a romantic figure of speech, a relic of the swooning and die-away romanticism. You don't look at all a hopeless figure standing there, Connie my dear.” Which was true. For her dark-blue eyes were flashing, her colour was hot in her cheeks, she looked full of a rebellious passion far from the dejection of hopelessness. She noticed, ill the tussocky places of the grass, cottony young cowslips standing up still bleared in their down. And she wondered with rage, why it was she felt Clifford was so wrong, yet she couldn't say it to him, she could not say exactly where he was wrong.

“我可不这样认为。这只是不切实际的形象比喻，是浪漫主义的可耻残余，这种想法会让人神魂颠倒，但却难以长久。我亲爱的康妮，你好端端地站在那里，根本没有一丁点儿绝望的样子。”此话不假。她深蓝色的双眸光华四射，两颊发热，似乎充满桀骜不驯的热情，全然没有绝望者的沮丧神态。她注意到，乱蓬蓬的草丛中，毛茸茸的报春花娇柔嫩弱，亭亭玉立，依然未脱绒毛。她气呼呼地想，为什么明明知道克利福德有错，却不能对他明言，不能直截了当地告诉他错在哪里。

"No wonder the men hate you," she said.

“难怪他们都恨你。”她说。

"They don't!” He replied. "And don't fall into errors: in your sense of the word, they are not men. They are animals you don't understand, and never could. Don't thrust your illusions on other people. The masses were always the same, and will always be the same. Nero's slaves were extremely little different from our colliers or the Ford motor-car workmen. I mean Nero's mine slaves and his field slaves. It is the masses: they are the unchangeable. An individual may emerge from the masses. But the emergence doesn't alter the mass. The masses are unalterable. It is one of the most momentous facts of social science. PANEM ET CIRCENSESP! Only today education is one of the bad substitutes for a circus. What is wrong today is that we've made a profound hash of the circuses part of the programme, and poisoned our masses with a little education.” When Clifford became really roused in his feelings about the common people, Connie was frightened. There was something devastatingly true in what he said. But it was a truth that killed.

“他们并不恨我！”他回应道。“不要陷入误区：依照你的理解，他们根本算不上人。他们不过是你无法理解的兽类，你也永远无法理解他们的想法。不要对他人抱有幻想。无论过去或者将来，老百姓都是这副德行。尼禄（注：37-68，古罗马帝国的暴君）豢养的奴隶，与我们的矿工或者福特汽车公司的技工，并无本质区别。我说的是尼禄的矿奴和农奴。老百姓就是如此，他们总是死性不改。或许会有人脱颖而出。但这并不会让群体发生变化。老百姓就是冥顽不灵。这是社会科学领域最基本的事实之一。面包和杂耍！时至今日，教育才取杂耍而代之，可惜只是滥竽充数。当今社会的症结在于，我们把节目单上杂耍的部分搞得乱七八糟，然后用微不足道的教育荼毒大众。”克利福德吐露出自己对于平民百姓的真实想法，康妮禁不住感到恐惧。他的话里包含着压倒一切的真理。但却是杀人的真理。

Seeing her pale and silent, Clifford started the chair again, and no more was said till he halted again at the wood gate, which she opened.

眼见她面色苍白，沉默不语，克利福德再度发动轮椅，径直来到园林门口，康妮为他打开门，他才再度开口。

"And what we need to take up now," he said, "is whips, not swords. The masses have been ruled since time began, and till time ends, ruled they will have to be. It is sheer hypocrisy and farce to say they can rule themselves." "But can you rule them?" She asked.

“如今我们需要拿起的，”他说，“是皮鞭，而非刀剑。从创世之初到世界末日，平头百姓都扮演着被统治的角色，而且只能被统治。如果说他们能够自治，那可真是痴人说梦。”“可你就统治得了他们吗？”她问。

"I? Oh yes! Neither my mind nor my will is crippled, and I don't rule with my legs. I can do my share of ruling: absolutely, my share; and give me a son, and he will be able to rule his portion after me.” "But he wouldn't be your own son, of your own ruling class; or perhaps not," she stammered.

“我么？当然能！我拥有健全的心智和顽强的意志，实施统治无须用双腿。我能够尽到本分，完成统治者的职责，这毫无疑问；给我生个儿子，他就能将我的统治延续下去。”“但他并非你亲生，甚至并非来自你所在的统治阶级，或许不是吧。”她支吾起来。

"I don't care who his father may be, so long as he is a healthy man not below normal intelligence. Give me the child of any healthy, normally intelligent man, and I will make a perfectly competent Chatterley of him. It is not who begets us, that matters, but where fate places us. Place any child among the ruling classes, and he will grow up, to his own extent, a ruler. Put kings' and dukes' children among the masses, and they'll be little plebeians, mass products. It is the overwhelming pressure of environment.” "Then the common people aren't a race, and the aristocrats aren't blood," she said.

“他的父亲是谁都无所谓，只要他身体健康，智力不低于平常。只要那个男人身心健全，智力正常，我就能将他的孩子塑造成为查泰莱家族合格的继承人。至关重要的并非是谁生养我们，而是命运将我们置于何处。将任何孩童置于统治阶级当中，他都会成长为合格的统治者。将王爵家的子嗣置于平民百姓当中，他也只会沦为庶民，乌合之后。客观环境的压力不可逆转。”“如此说来，平民百姓并非生来卑贱，王孙贵族也不是血统使然。”她说。

"No, my child! All that is romantic illusion. Aristocracy is a function, a part of fate. And the masses are a functioning of another part of fate. The individual hardly matters. It is a question of which function you are brought up to and adapted to. It is not the individuals that make an aristocracy: it is the functioning of the aristocratic whole. And it is the functioning of the whole mass that makes the common man what he is.” "Then there is no common humanity between us all!" "Just as you like. We all need to fill our bellies. But when it comes to expressive or executive functioning, I believe there is a gulf and an absolute one, between the ruling and the serving classes. The two functions are opposed. And the function determines the individual." Connie looked at him with dazed eyes.

“没错，亲爱的！那些都只是浪漫的幻想。王孙贵族是种职责，是命运的组成部分。平民百姓则是命运另一部分的职责。个体往往无关紧要。重要的是你接受怎样的教育，适应于怎样的社会职责。贵族之所以为贵族，起作用的并非个体，而是贵族整体的职责。同理，平民之所以为平民，起作用的同样是平民群体的职责。”“这样说来，人与人之间并不存在共通的人性？”“随你怎么理解。我们都得填饱肚子。但说到职责的表现和执行，我认为统治阶级和服务阶级之间存在着不可逾越的鸿沟。两种职责背道而驰。职责决定个体。”康妮茫然地看着他。

"Won't you come on?” She said.

“往前走吧。”她说。

And he started his chair. He had said his say. Now he lapsed into his peculiar and rather vacant apathy, that Connie found so trying. In the wood, anyhow, she was determined not to argue.

他发动轮椅。他已经表明自己的态度。现在，他再度堕入那特有的空虚冷漠中去，康妮对这种情绪感到极端厌恶。但无论怎样，她还是不愿意跟他在林中争论不休。

In front of them ran the open cleft of the riding, between the hazel walls and the gay grey trees. The chair puffed slowly on, slowly surging into the forget-me-nots that rose up in the drive like milk froth, beyond the hazel shadows. Clifford steered the middle course, where feet passing had kept a channel through the flowers. But Connie, walking behind, had watched the wheels jolt over the wood-ruff and the bugle, and squash the little yellow cups of the creeping-jenny. Now they made a wake through the forget-me-nots.

开阔的马道展现在两人前方，路两旁是榛树壁垒以及斑白的华美树丛。轮椅突突着缓慢前行，颠簸着驶进勿忘我丛。这种蓝色的花朵生长在榛树的遮蔽之外，好像道路上弥漫着的奶泡。克利福德择路而行，沿着人们在花丛中踩出的小径前进。但康妮则落在后面，眼睁睁看着轮椅摇摆着碾过车叶草和喇叭花，将铜线珍珠菜的黄色小花瓣压得粉碎。如今，它又在勿忘我丛中留下轮痕。

All the flowers were there, the first bluebells in blue pools, like standing water.

千紫万红的花朵争奇斗艳，风铃草在湛蓝的池塘中乍放，宛若一弯净水。

"You are quite right about its being beautiful," said Clifford. "It is so amazingly. What is QUITE so lovely as an English spring!"

“你说得太对了，这里确实美不胜收。”克里福德说。“这里确实令人惊艳。任什么也不如英格兰的春天这般秀美！”

Connie thought it sounded as if even the spring bloomed by act of Parliament. An English spring! Why not an Irish one? Or Jewish? The chair moved slowly ahead, past tufts of sturdy bluebells that stood up like wheat and over grey burdock leaves. When they came to the open place where the trees had been felled, the light flooded in rather stark. And the bluebells made sheets of bright blue colour, here and there, sheering off into lilac and purple. And between, the bracken was lifting its brown curled heads, like legions of young snakes with a new secret to whisper to Eve. Clifford kept the chair going till he came to the brow of the hill; Connie followed slowly behind. The oak-buds were opening soft and brown. Everything came tenderly out of the old hardness. Even the snaggy craggy oak-trees put out the softest young leaves, spreading thin, brown little wings like young bat-wings in the light. Why had men never any newness in them, any freshness to come forth with! Stale men!

康妮感觉克利福德好像是说，甚至连春花绽放都需得到国会法令的允许。英格兰的春天！为何不是爱尔兰的春天？或者犹太的？轮椅缓缓前行，轧过一簇簇如麦秆般强韧的风铃草，碾过牛蒡草的灰色叶片。当两人来到那块树木伐尽的空旷所在，阳光充溢，晃晃显显。风铃草碧蓝如席，随处可见，其间点缀着姹紫嫣红的花朵。花丛中，欧洲蕨扬着纠结缠绕的棕色脑袋，像成百上千条小蛇，争先恐后地想要向夏娃吐露新的秘密。克利福德驱动轮椅，径直驶到山脊处，康妮则慢悠悠地跟在后面。橡树棕色的嫩芽温柔地吐露。万物复苏，辞旧迎新。甚至连残干横生、皱皱巴巴的老橡树，也吐出最柔嫩的新芽，伸出纤细娇小的褐色枝条，像是日光中闪闪发亮的蝙蝠翼翅。为何人类从不自我更新，只会安于现状，固步自封！腐朽的人类！

Clifford stopped the chair at the top of the rise and looked down. The bluebells washed blue like flood-water over the broad riding, and lit up the downhill with a warm blueness.

克利福德在坡顶止住轮椅，向下眺望。风铃草如同碧蓝的潮水，将宽阔的马道湮没，给整个山坡着上温暖的蓝色。

"It's a very fine colour in itself," said Clifford, "but useless for making a painting." "Quite!" Said Connie, completely uninterested.

“这颜色本身的确美丽，”克利福德评价道，“但若用来作画就一无是处了。”“有道理！”康妮应付着，提不起半点兴趣。

"Shall I venture as far as the spring?" Said Clifford.

“我来冒回险怎样，驾着轮椅驶到泉水那边？”克里福德提议说。

"Will the chair get up again?" She said.

“轮椅还能攀得上这山坡吗？”她问。

"We'll try; nothing venture, nothing win!”

“我们不妨试试看，不入虎穴，焉得虎子！”

And the chair began to advance slowly, joltingly down the beautiful broad riding washed over with blue encroaching hyacinths. O last of all ships, through the hyacinthian shallows! O pinnace on the last wild waters, sailing in the last voyage of our civilization! Whither, O weird wheeled ship, your slow course steering. Quiet and complacent, Clifford sat at the wheel of adventure: in his old black hat and tweed jacket, motionless and cautious. O Captain, my Captain, our splendid trip is done! Not yet though! Downhill, in the wake, came Constance in her grey dress, watching the chair jolt downwards.

轮椅开始缓缓下行，颠簸在美丽开阔的马道上，摇摆在漫山遍野的蓝色风信子间。噢，横越风信子浅滩的末班船！噢，汹涌波涛上，有轻舟一叶，扬帆出海，做最后的远航，探寻我们的文明！噢，奇异的轮之船，你缓慢的航程通往何方？克利福德志得意满，从容地掌握着探险的航向，头戴破旧黑帽，身穿花呢上衣，坐在那里，动也不动，倍加小心。噢，船长，噢，我的船长，我们壮丽的航程将要收尾！虽然尚未告终！康斯坦斯身穿灰色裙装，沿着轮痕走下山坡，目睹着轮椅颠簸而下。

They passed the narrow track to the hut. Thank heaven it was not wide enough for the chair: hardly wide enough for one person. The chair reached the bottom of the slope, and swerved round, to disappear. And Connie heard a low whistle behind her. She glanced sharply round: the keeper was striding downhill towards her, his dog keeping behind him.

两人路过通往林间小屋的窄径。谢天谢地，小径实在太窄，容不得轮椅通行，就算是人想通过，也要费番周折。轮椅驶到坡底后转弯，消失在视线之外。此时，康妮听到背后传来低低的口哨声。她连忙回头观瞧，守林人正大步走下山坡，来到她的切近，猎犬尾随在后。

"Is Sir Clifford going to the cottage?" He asked, looking into her eyes.

“克利福德爵士要去农舍吗？”他望着她的双眼问。

"No, only to the well." "Ah! Good! Then I can keep out of sight. But I shall see you tonight. I shall wait for you at the park-gate about ten.” He looked again direct into her eyes.

“不，他只是想去约翰井。”“哦！太好了！那样我就不用露面了。可我今晚要见你。十点左右，我在园林门口等你。”他直直地逼视着她的双眸。

"Yes," she faltered.

“好吧。”她的声音有些颤抖。

They heard the Papp! Papp! of Clifford's horn, tooting for Connie.

耳边传来叭叭的声音！叭叭！那是克利福德按响喇叭，催促康妮赶快跟上。

She "Coo-eed!" in reply. The keeper's face flickered with a little grimace, and with his hand he softly brushed her breast upwards, from underneath. She looked at him, frightened, and started running down the hill, calling Coo-ee! again to Clifford. The man above watched her, then turned, grinning faintly, back into his path.

她发出“喂”的喊声，作为回应。守林人微微做了个鬼脸，手已经自下向上轻抚起她的酥胸。她惊讶地瞪了他一眼，赶忙往坡下跑去，嘴里仍发出“喂”的喊声，回应着克利福德。守林人居高临下，目送她远去，继而转过身，隐入身后的窄径，脸上露出浅浅的笑意。

She found Clifford slowly mounting to the spring, which was halfway up the slope of the dark larch-wood. He was there by the time she caught him up.

她发现克利福德正费力地向泉边驶去。那眼泉水位于半山腰处，四周都是幽深的落叶松林。等她赶到，他已经抵达。

"She did that all right," he said, referring to the chair.

“她表现得不错。”他说，指的是自己的轮椅。

Connie looked at the great grey leaves of burdock that grew out ghostly from the edge of the larch-wood. The people call it Robin Hood's Rhubarb. How silent and gloomy it seemed by the well! Yet the water bubbled so bright, wonderful! And there were bits of eye-bright and strong blue bugle...And there, under the bank, the yellow earth was moving. A mole! It emerged, rowing its pink hands, and waving its blind gimlet of a face, with the tiny pink nose-tip uplifted.

康妮看着松林边缘鬼魅般丛生的牛蒡草，它拥有宽大的灰色叶片。当地人将它称作“罗宾汉大黄”。泉眼附近如此寂静和阴暗！而泉水却潺潺流泻着，那样欢快，那样奇妙。这里还见得到几株小米草以及肥硕的蓝色喇叭花……而在那边，围栏下方，黄土被掀开。鼹鼠！它探出身来，粉色的爪子舞动着，螺丝锥似的脑袋茫然四顾，粉色的小鼻尖向上翘着。

"It seems to see with the end of its nose," said Connie.

“它的视觉器官似乎是鼻头。”康妮说。

"Better than with its eyes!" He said. "Will you drink?" "Will you?" She took an enamel mug from a twig on a tree, and stooped to fill it for him. He drank in sips. Then she stooped again, and drank a little herself.

“比眼睛更加敏锐！”他说。“你要喝水吗？”“你呢？”她从树枝上取下一只瓷杯，弯腰为他取水。他呷了几口。接着，她又俯身取了些，自己也喝了一点。

"So icy!" She said gasping.

“真清凉！”她气喘吁吁地说。

"Good, isn't it! Did you wish?” "Did you?" "Yes, I wished. But I won't tell.” She was aware of the rapping of a woodpecker, then of the wind, soft and eerie through the larches. She looked up. White clouds were crossing the blue.

“真棒，不是吗？你许愿了没？”“你呢？”“嗯，我许了。可不想说出来。”她听见啄木鸟轻击树干的声音，感觉松林中传来的风轻柔而诡异。她仰望天空。白云朵朵掠过蓝天。

"Clouds!" She said.

“云彩！”她赞叹道。

"White lambs only," he replied.

“只是些白色的羊羔而已。”他不以为然。

A shadow crossed the little clearing. The mole had swum out on to the soft yellow earth.

云影移过泉边的小块空地。那只鼹鼠已经爬了出来，将松软的黄土踩在脚下。

"Unpleasant little beast, we ought to kill him," said Clifford.

“讨厌的小东西，我们应该弄死它。”克利福德说。

"Look! He's like a parson in a pulpit," she said.

“看呀！他像圣坛上布道的牧师。”她说。

She gathered some sprigs of woodruff and brought them to him.

她摘了几根车叶草，交到他的手中。

"New-mown hay!” He said. "Doesn't it smell like the romantic ladies of the last century, who had their heads screwed on the right way after all!” She was looking at the white clouds.

“新刈的干草！”他说。“闻起来就像百年前风流的贵妇，好在那时的女人还算精明能干！”她依然望着白色的云朵。

"I wonder if it will rain," she said.

“我在想会不会下雨。”她说。

"Rain! Why! Do you want it to?" They started on the return journey, Clifford jolting cautiously downhill. They came to the dark bottom of the hollow, turned to the right, and after a hundred yards swerved up the foot of the long slope, where bluebells stood in the light.

“下雨！为什么！你盼着下雨吗？”他俩踏上归途，下坡路上轮椅摇摇摆摆，克利福德更加谨慎。两人来到阴暗的谷底，右转后前进一百码，便拐上长长的山坡，那里的风铃草在阳光的照耀下亭亭玉立。

"Now, old girl!" Said Clifford, putting the chair to it.

“现在，轮到你出彩了，老伙计！”克利福德说着，驾着轮椅驶上山坡。

It was a steep and jolty climb. The chair pugged slowly, in a struggling unwilling fashion. Still, she nosed her way up unevenly, till she came to where the hyacinths were all around her, then she balked, struggled, jerked a little way out of the flowers, then stopped. "We'd better sound the horn and see if the keeper will come," said Connie. "He could push her a bit. For that matter, I will push. It helps." "We'll let her breathe," said Clifford. "Do you mind putting a scotch under the wheel?" Connie found a stone, and they waited. After a while Clifford started his motor again, then set the chair in motion. It struggled and faltered like a sick thing, with curious noises.

道路陡峭且崎岖不平。轮椅慢吞吞地攀爬着，显得极为吃力，又不太情愿似的。尽管道路并不平坦，她依然奋力前行，直到驶入风信子丛中。她被绊住，挣扎了几下，但仍未能摆脱花枝的缠绕，最终停住动弹不得。“咱俩最好按响喇叭，看守林人是否会赶来。”康妮提议道。“他可以帮忙推车。那样的话，我也来帮忙推。会管用的。”“咱们让她喘口气儿。”克利福德说。“你去找块石头，垫在轮子后面，好吗？”康妮找来块石头，他俩等待了一会儿。紧接着，克利福德再度发动马达，轮椅重新开始前进。它举步维艰，踉踉跄跄，活脱像个久病缠身的家伙，还发出古怪的噪声。

"Let me push!" Said Connie, coming up behind.

“让我来推吧！”康妮说着，走到轮椅后面。

"No! Don't push!” He said angrily. "What's the good of the damned thing, if it has to be pushed! Put the stone under!”

“不用！别推！”克利福德愤怒地说道，“如果还要推，那这该死的东西还有什么用！”把石头垫在轮子底下就行！”

There was another pause, then another start; but more ineffectual than before.

稍作停顿，他再度发动轮椅，但情况没有丝毫好转。

"You MUST let me push," said she. "Or sound the horn for the keeper." "Wait!" She waited; and he had another try, doing more harm than good.

“你得让我推才行。”她说。“不然，就按喇叭，唤守林人过来帮忙。”“等等！”她等待着，他又尝试了一次，可情况变得更糟。

"Sound the horn then, if you won't let me push," she said. "Hell! Be quiet a moment!" She was quiet a moment: he made shattering efforts with the little motor.

“按喇叭吧，不然就让我来推。”她说。“见鬼！闭上嘴！”她沉默不语，他拼命折腾着那个小马达。

"You'll only break the thing down altogether, Clifford," she remonstrated; "besides wasting your nervous energy." "If I could only get out and look at the damned thing!" He said, exasperated. And he sounded the horn stridently. "Perhaps Mellors can see what's wrong.” They waited, among the mashed flowers under a sky softly curdling with cloud. In the silence a wood-pigeon began to coo roo-hoo hoo! roo-hoo hoo!

“你那样只会把机器搞坏，克利福德，”她提出抗议，“再说也是白费力气。”“要是我能下来，检查一下这可恶的东西就好了！”他怒不可遏地说。接着他按响喇叭，发出刺耳的声音。“或许梅勒斯能找出问题何在。”他们等待着，被碾烂的花朵散落在四周，天空中的云彩慢慢汇聚起来。周围一片寂静，突然间一只斑鸠咕咕地叫起来。咕咕咕咕！

Clifford shut her up with a blast on the horn.

克利福德猛然间按响喇叭，把那只斑鸠吓得不敢做声。

The keeper appeared directly, striding inquiringly round the corner. He saluted.

守林人仿佛从天而降，他绕过拐角，大踏步走上前来，询问到底发生了什么事。他向两人行礼。

"Do you know anything about motors?" Asked Clifford sharply.

“你会修马达吗？”克利福德劈头就问。

"I am afraid I don't. Has she gone wrong?” "Apparently!" snapped Clifford.

“我不会。轮椅出毛病了？”“明知故问！”克利福德呵斥着。

The man crouched solicitously by the wheel, and peered at the little engine.

守林人热心地蹲在轮椅旁边，仔细检查起小马达来。

"I'm afraid I know nothing at all about these mechanical things, Sir Clifford," he said calmly. "If she has enough petrol and oil—” "Just look carefully and see if you can see anything broken," snapped Clifford.

“我对机械方面的东西一窍不通，克利福德爵士。”他平静地说。“要是汽油足够的话——”“仔细看看有没有损坏的地方。”克利福德厉声说。

The man laid his gun against a tree, took off his coat, and threw it beside it. The brown dog sat guard. Then he sat down on his heels and peered under the chair, poking with his finger at the greasy little engine, and resenting the grease-marks on his clean Sunday shirt.

守林人把猎枪靠在树上，脱掉外套，扔在树边。那只棕色猎犬蹲伏在旁警戒着。接着，他蹲下身子，观察着轮椅的底部，手指轻触着油迹斑斑的马达，眼见自己洁净的礼拜日衬衫沾满油渍，让他心里颇感不悦。

"Doesn't seem anything broken," he said. And he stood up, pushing back his hat from his forehead, rubbing his brow and apparently studying.