第十三章（第5/15页）
"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！