The Poetry of D. H. Lawrence. D. H. Lawrence

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СКАЧАТЬ Warmin’ his-sen at the stool o’ fire

       Under the tank as fills the ingines,

       If there isn’t my dearly-beloved liar!

      My constable wi’ ’is buttoned breast

       As stout as the truth, my sirs!—An’ ’is face

       As bold as a robin! It’s much he cares

       For this nice old shame and disgrace.

      Oh but he drops his flag when ’e sees me,

       Yes, an’ ’is face goes white ... oh yes

       Tha can stare at me wi’ thy fierce blue eyes,

       But tha doesna stare me out, I guess!

      VI

      Whativer brings thee out so far

       In a’ this depth o’ snow?

       —I’m takin’ ’ome a weddin’ dress

       If tha maun know.

      Why, is there a weddin’ at Underwood,

       As tha ne’d trudge up here?

       —It’s Widow Naylor’s weddin’-dress,

       An’ ’er’s wantin it, I hear.

      ’Er doesna want no weddin-dress ... What—but what dost mean? —Doesn’t ter know what I mean, Tim?—Yi, Tha must’ a’ been hard to wean!

      Tha’rt a good-un at suckin-in yet, Timmy;

       But tell me, isn’t it true

       As ’er’ll be wantin’ my weddin’ dress In a week or two?

      Tha’s no occasions ter ha’e me on

       Lizzie—what’s done is done!

       —Done, I should think so—Done! But might I ask when tha begun?

      It’s thee as ’as done it as much as me,

       Lizzie, I tell thee that.

       —“Me gotten a childt to thy landlady—!”

       Tha’s gotten thy answer pat,

      As tha allers hast—but let me tell thee

       Hasna ter sent me whoam, when I

       Was a’most burstin’ mad o’ my-sen

       An’ walkin’ in agony;

      After thy kisses, Lizzie, after

       Tha’s lain right up to me Lizzie, an’ melted

       Into me, melted into me, Lizzie,

       Till I was verily swelted.

      An’ if my landlady seed me like it,

       An’ if ’er clawkin’, tiger’s eyes

       Went through me just as the light went out

       Is it any cause for surprise?

      No cause for surprise at all, my lad,

       After lickin’ and snuffin’ at me, tha could

       Turn thy mouth on a woman like her—

       Did ter find her good?

      Ay, I did, but afterwards

       I should like to ha’ killed her!

       —Afterwards!—an’ after how long

       Wor it tha’d liked to ’a killed her?

      Say no more, Liz, dunna thee,

       I might lose my-sen.

       —I’ll only say good-bye to thee, Timothy,

       An’ gi’e her thee back again.

      I’ll ta’e thy word ‘Good-bye,’ Liz,

       But I shonna marry her,

       I shonna for nobody.—It is

       Very nice on you, Sir.

      The childt maun ta’e its luck, it maun,

       An’ she maun ta’e her luck, For I tell ye I shonna marry her— What her’s got, her took.

      That’s spoken like a man, Timmy,

       That’s spoken like a man ...

       “He up an’ fired off his pistol

       An’ then away he ran.”

      I damn well shanna marry ’er,

       So chew at it no more,

       Or I’ll chuck the flamin’ lot of you—

       —You nedn’t have swore.

      VII

      That’s his collar round the candle-stick

       An’ that’s the dark blue tie I bought ’im,

       An’ these is the woman’s kids he’s so fond on,

       An’ ’ere comes the cat that caught ’im.

      I dunno where his eyes was—a gret

       Round-shouldered hag! My sirs, to think

       Of him stoopin’ to her! You’d wonder he could

       Throw hisself in that sink.

      I expect you know who I am, Mrs Naylor!

       —Who yer are?—yis, you’re Lizzie Stainwright.

       ’An ’appen you might guess what I’ve come for?

       —’Appen I mightn’t, ’appen I might.

      You knowed as I was courtin’ Tim Merfin.

       —Yis, I knowed ’e wor courtin’ thee.

       An’ yet you’ve been carryin’ on wi’ him.

       —Ay, an’ ’im wi’ me.

      Well, now you’ve got to pay for it,

       —An’ if I han, what’s that to thee?

       For ’e isn’t goin’ to marry you.

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