Page 324 - lady-chatterlys-lover

She softly rubbed her cheek on his belly, and gathered
his balls in her hand. The penis stirred softly, with strange
life, but did not rise up. The rain beat bruisingly outside.
’Let’s live for summat else. Let’s not live ter make money,
neither for us-selves nor for anybody else. Now we’re forced
to. We’re forced to make a bit for us-selves, an’ a fair lot for
th’ bosses. Let’s stop it! Bit by bit, let’s stop it. We needn’t
rant an’ rave. Bit by bit, let’s drop the whole industrial life
an’ go back. The least little bit o’ money’ll do. For everybody,
me an’ you, bosses an’ masters, even th’ king. The least little
bit o’ money’ll really do. Just make up your mind to it, an’
you’ve got out o’ th’ mess.’ He paused, then went on:
’An’ I’d tell ‘em: Look! Look at Joe! He moves lovely!
Look how he moves, alive and aware. He’s beautiful! An’
look at Jonah! He’s clumsy, he’s ugly, because he’s niver
willin’ to rouse himself I’d tell ‘em: Look! look at your-
selves! one shoulder higher than t’other, legs twisted, feet
all lumps! What have yer done ter yerselves, wi’ the blasted
work? Spoilt yerselves. No need to work that much. Take yer
clothes off an’ look at yourselves. Yer ought ter be alive an’
beautiful, an’ yer ugly an’ half dead. So I’d tell ‘em. An’ I’d
get my men to wear different clothes: appen close red trou-
sers, bright red, an’ little short white jackets. Why, if men
had red, fine legs, that alone would change them in a month.
They’d begin to be men again, to be men! An’ the women
could dress as they liked. Because if once the men walked
with legs close bright scarlet, and buttocks nice and show-
ing scarlet under a little white jacket: then the women ‘ud
begin to be women. It’s because th’ men AREN’T men, that