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德伯家的苔丝|Tess of the D‘Urbervilles

第42章|Chapter 41

属类： 双语小说 【分类】世界名著 -[作者: 托马斯-哈代] 阅读：[31855]
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现在天已经大亮，苔丝又动身了，小心翼翼地在大路上走着。不过现在她用不着小心，附近没有一个人影；她坚定地往前走着，心里头又回忆起昨天夜里那些山鸡默默忍受的痛苦，觉得痛苦有大有小，她自己的痛苦并非不能忍受，只要她站得高，不把别人的看法放在心上就行了。不过要是克莱尔也坚持这种看法，她是不能不放在心上的。

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她走到粉新屯，在客栈里吃了早饭，客栈里有几个年轻人，叫人讨厌地恭维她，说她长得漂亮。这又让她感到了希望，因为她的丈夫是不是有一天也会对她说出相同的话来呢？为了这种可能的机会，她一定要照顾好自己，远离这些偶然碰到的向她调情的人。要达到这个目的，她决心不能再拿她的容貌冒险了。当她一走出村子，她就躲进一个矮树丛，从篮子里拿出一件旧得不能再旧的劳动长衫，这件衣服她在奶牛场里从来没有穿过——自从她在马洛特村割麦子时穿过以后就再也没有穿过它了。她又灵机一动，从包袱里拿出一块大手巾，把帽子下面的下巴、半个脸颊和半个太阳穴包裹起来，就仿佛她正在患牙痛一样。然后她拿出剪刀，对着一面小镜子，狠着心把自己的眉毛剪了。这样敢保再没有人垂涎她的美色了，她才又走上那条崎岖不平的路。

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“那个姑娘怎么像个稻草人的样子呀！”同她相遇的人对她的同伴说。

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她听见说话，眼泪不禁涌了出来，为自己感到可怜。

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“不过我自己不在乎！”她说。“啊，我不在乎——我不在乎！我一直要打扮得丑些，因为安琪尔不在这儿，不会有人关心我。我的丈夫已经走了，他不会再爱我了；可是我还是照样地爱他，恨所有其他的男人，我情愿他们都看不起我！”

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苔丝就这样朝前走着；她的身影只是大地景物的一部分；一个穿着冬衣的单纯素朴的农妇；她上身穿一件灰色的哗呢短斗篷，脖子上围一条红色的毛围巾，下面穿一条毛料裙子，外面罩一条穿得泛白的棕色罩裙，手上戴一双黄色手套。她那一身衣服，经过雨水的洗刷，阳光的照射，凄风的吹打，已经完全褪色了，磨薄了。现在从她的身上，一点也看不出年轻人的激情——

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这个姑娘的嘴冰冷

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一层又一层

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简单地包在她的头上①

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①见史文朋的《诗歌和民谣》中的“Fragoletta”一诗。

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从她的外表看上去，她简直是一个毫无感觉的人，几乎就是一个无机体，但是在她的外表下，分明又有生命搏动的记录，就其岁月而论，她已经阅尽了世间的沧桑，深知肉欲的残酷，懂得了爱情的脆弱。

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第二天天气不好，但是她仍然艰难地前进，大自然与她为敌，但是它诚实、坦率、毫无偏见，因此她不感到苦恼。她的门的既然是找一份冬天的了作，找一个冬天的栖身之所，因此就没有时间可以耽误了。她以前有过做短工的经历，所以决心不再做短工了。

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她就这样朝着玛丽安写信告诉她的地方走去，经过一个农场，就打听有没有工作，她决心在无路可走时才去玛丽安让她去的那个农场，因为她听说那个地方的工作既艰苦又繁重。她起初是寻找一些比较轻松的工作，看到找这类工作渐渐没有希望，就转而找比较繁重的工作，她就这样从她最喜欢的奶牛场和养禽场的活儿问起，一直问到她最不喜欢的粗重的工作——农田上的工作：这种工作的确又粗又累，除非是迫不得已她是不会自愿干的。

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接近第二天黄昏的时候，她走到了一片高低不平的白垩地高地，或者说高原，高原上有一些半圆形的古墓——仿佛是长了许多奶头的库柏勒女神①躺在那儿——这个高原伸展在她出生的那个山谷和她恋爱的山谷之问。

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①库柏勒女神，古代希腊、罗马神话中的大地女神，是众神及地上一切生物的母亲，她使自然界死而复生，并赐予丰收。

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这儿的空气既干燥又寒冷，雨后没有几个小时，漫长的车路就被吹得白茫茫、灰蒙蒙的一片了。树木很少，或者说根本就没有，即使生长在树篱中间的那几棵树，也被种田的佃户无情地砍倒了，和树篱紧紧地绑在一起，这些佃户本来就是大树、灌木和荆棘的天然敌人。在她前面不远的地方，她看得见野牛坟和荨麻山的山顶，它们似乎对她是友好的。从这块高地看去，它们是一种低矮和卑谦的样子，但是在她小时候从黑荒原谷的另一边看去，它们却像是高耸入云的城堡。再往南好多英里，从海岸边的小山和山脊上望过去，她可以看见像磨光了的钢铁一样的水面：那就是远远地通向法国的英吉利海峡。

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在她的面前，是一个破败不堪的村庄遗迹。事实上，她已经到了燧石山了，到了玛丽安做工的地方了。她似乎是非来这儿不可的，就像是命中注定的一样。她看见周围的土壤那样坚硬，这就明白无误地表明，这儿所需要的劳动是艰苦的一种；但是她已经到了非找到工作不可的时候了，尤其是天已经开始下雨，于是就决定留在这儿。在村口有一所小屋，小屋的山墙伸到了路面上，她在去寻找住处之前，就站在山墙下躲雨，同时也看见暮色越来越浓了。

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“有谁还会以为我就是安琪尔·克莱尔夫人呢！”她说。

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她的后背和肩膀感到山墙很温暖，于是她立即就知道了，山墙的里面就是这所小屋的壁炉，暖气是隔着墙砖传过来的。她把手放在墙上暖和着，她的脸在细雨中淋得又红又湿，她就把自己的脸靠在舒服的墙面上。那面墙似乎就是她唯一的朋友。她一点儿也不想离开那面墙，希望整个晚上都待在那儿。

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苔丝能够听出小屋里住有人，听出他们在一天的劳动结束后聚集在一起，听见他们在屋子里互相谈着，还听见他们吃晚饭时盘子的响声。但是在那个村子的街道上，她一个人影也看不到。孤独终于被打破了，有一个女人模样的人走了过来，虽然傍晚的天气已经很冷了，但是她还穿着夏天穿的印花布夏装，头上戴着凉帽。苔丝凭直觉认为那个人是玛丽安，等那人走得近了，她在昏暗中能够认清了，果然是玛丽安。和从前相比，玛丽安的脸变得比以前更胖了，更红了，穿的衣服也比以前更寒酸了。要是在从前生活中的任何时候，苔丝看见她这个样子，也不敢上前去和她相认。但是她太寂寞了，所以玛丽安向她打招呼，她就立刻答应了。

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玛丽安问了苔丝一些话，口气很恭敬，但是看到苔丝和当初比起来，情形并没有得到改善，于是大为感慨。当然，她隐约听说过她和丈夫分居的事。

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“苔丝——克莱尔夫人——亲爱的他的亲爱的夫人啊！你真的倒霉到了这个地步吗，我的宝贝？你为什么把你漂亮的脸这样包起来？有谁打了你吗？不是他打了你吧？”

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“没有，没有，没有！我这样包起来，只是为了不让别人来招惹我，玛丽安。”

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她于是气愤地把裹脸的手绢扯了下来，免得让别人产生那样胡乱的猜想。

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“你没有戴项圈啊！”（苔丝在奶牛场时习惯戴一个白色的小项圈）。

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“我知道我没有戴项圈，玛丽安。”

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“你在路途中把项圈丢了吗？”

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“我没有丢。我实话告诉你吧，我一点也不在乎我的容貌了；所以我就不戴项圈了。”

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“你也没有戴结婚戒指呀？”

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“不，戒指我戴着；不过我没有戴在外面。我戴在脖子上的一根带子上。我不想让别人知道我结了婚，知道我已经嫁人了；我现在过的生活让人知道了多叫人难过啊。”

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玛丽安不做声了。

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“可是你是一个绅士的妻子呀，你这样过日子太不公平了啊！”

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“啊，不，公平，非常公平；虽然我很不幸。”

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“唉，唉。他娶了你——你还感到不幸啊！”

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“做妻子的有时候是会感到不幸的；这并不是因为她们丈夫的过错，而是因为她们自己的过错。”

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“你没有过错啊，亲爱的；我相信你没有过错。而他也没有过错。所以这只能是外来的某种过错了。”

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“玛丽安，亲爱的玛丽安，你给我做点儿好事吧，不要再问我了好不好？我的丈夫已经到国外去了，我又把钱差不多用完了，所以才不得不暂时出来做一点儿过去做过的工作。不要喊我克莱尔夫人，就像以前一样喊我苔丝吧。他们这儿需要干活的人吗？”

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“啊，需要；他们一直需要干活的人，因为很少有人愿意到这儿来。这儿是一片饥饿的土地，只能种麦子和瑞典萝卜。虽然我自己来了这儿，但是像你这样的人也来这儿，的确太可怜了。”

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“可是，以前你不也和我一样是一个奶牛场的女工吗？”

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“不；自从我沾上酒以后，我就不做那种工作了。天啦，喝酒现在就是我唯一的安慰了。如果他们雇用了你，你就得去挖那些瑞典萝卜。现在我干的就是挖萝卜的活儿，我想你不会喜欢干那种活儿。”

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“啊——什么活儿我都愿意干！你去为我说一说好吗？”

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“最好你还是自己去说吧。”

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“那好吧。喂，玛丽安，请你记住——要是我在这儿找到了活儿，千万不要提到他呀。我不愿意后没了他的名声。”

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玛丽安虽然不及苔丝细心，但她是一个值得信赖的朋友，苔丝对她的要求她都答应了。

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“今天晚上发工资，”她说，“如果你和我一起去，他们雇不雇你，你当时就知道了。我真为你的不幸难过；但是我知道，这都是因为他离开了你的缘故。你要是在这儿，即使他不给钱你用，把你当苦力使唤，你也不会不愉快的。”

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“那倒是真的；我不会不愉快的！”

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她们一块儿走着，很快就走到了农舍的跟前，那儿的荒凉而直到了无以复加的地步。在眼睛看得见的地方，一棵树也没有；在这个季节里，也没有一块绿色的草地——那儿除了休闲地和萝卜而外，什么也没有。那儿的土地都被盘结在一起的树篱分割成一大块一大块的，一点儿变化也没有。

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苔丝站在宿舍的外面等着，等到那一群工人领了工资以后，玛丽安把她叫了进去。这天晚上农场主似乎不在家里，只有农场主的妻子在家，代他处理事情，苔丝同意工作到旧历圣母节，她也就同意雇用苔丝了。现在很少有肯到地里干活的女工，而且女工的工资低，义能和男工一样十活，所以雇用女工是有利可图的。

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苔丝签订了合同以后，除了找一个住的地方外，就没有其它的事了。她在山墙那儿取暖的屋子里，找了一个住宿的地方。她在那儿的生活条件很差，但无论如何为她这个冬天提供了一个栖身之处。

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她在那天晚上写了一封信，把新的地址告诉她的父母，怕万一她的丈夫写的信寄到了马洛特村。但是她没有告诉他们她目前的艰难处境：这样也许会引起他们责备她的丈夫。

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From the foregoing events of the winter-time let us press on to an October day, more than eight months subsequent to the parting of Clare and Tess. We discover the latter in changed conditions; instead of a bride with boxes and trunks which others bore, we see her a lonely woman with a basket and a bundle in her own porterage, as at an earlier time when she was no bride; instead of the ample means that were projected by her husband for her comfort through this probationary period, she can produce only a flattened purse.

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After again leaving Marlott, her home, she had got through the spring and summer without any great stress upon her physical powers, the time being mainly spent in rendering light irregular service at dairy-work near Port-Bredy to the west of the Black-moor Valley, equally remote from her native place and from Talbothays. She preferred this to living on his allowance. Mentally she remained in utter stagnation, a condition which the mechanical occupation rather fostered than checked. Her consciousness was at that other dairy, at that other season, in the presence of the tender lover who had confronted her there - he who, the moment she had grasped him to keep for her own, had disappeared like a shape in a vision.

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The dairy-work lasted only till the milk began to lessen, for she had not met with a second regular engagement as at Talbothays, but had done duty as a supernumerary only. However, as harvest was now beginning, she had simply to remove from the pasture to the stubble to find plenty Of further occupation, and this continued till harvest was done.

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Of the five-and-twenty pounds which had remained to her of Clare’s allowance, after deducting the other half of the fifty as a contribution to her parents for the trouble and expense to which she had put them, she had as vet spent but little. But there now followed an unfortunate interval of wet weather, during which she was obliged to fall back upon her sovereigns.

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She could not bear to let them go. Angel had put them into her hand, had obtained them bright and new from his bank for her; his touch had consecrated them to souvenirs of himself - they appeared to have had as yet no other history than such as was created by his and her own experiences - and to disperse them was like giving away relics. But she had to do it, and one by one they left her hands.

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She had been compelled to send her mother her address from time to time, but she concealed her circumstances. When her money had almost gone a letter from her mother reached her. Joan stated that they were in dreadful difficulty; the autumn rains had gone through the thatch of the house, which required entire renewal; but this could not be done because the previous thatching had never been paid for. New rafters and a new ceiling upstairs also were required, which, with the previous bill, would amount to a sum of twenty pounds. As her husband was a man of means, and had doubtless returned by this time, could she not send them the money?

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Tess had thirty pounds coming to her almost immediately from Angel’s bankers, and, the case being so deplorable, as soon as the sum was received she sent the twenty as requested. Part of the remainder she was obliged to expend in winter clothing, leaving only a nominal sum for the whole inclement season at hand. When the last pound had gone, a remark of Angel’s that whenever she required further resources she was to apply to his father, remained to be considered.

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But the more Tess thought of the step the more reluctant was she to take it. The same delicacy, pride, false shame, whatever it may be called, on Clare’s account, which had led her to hide from her own parents the prolongation of the estrangement, hindered her in owning to his that she was in want after the fair allowance he had left her. They probably despised her already; how much more they would despise her in the character of a mendicant! The consequence was that by no effort could the parson’s daughter-in-law bring herself to let him know her state.

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Her reluctance to communicate with her husband’s parents might, she thought, lessen with the lapse of time; but with her own the reverse obtained. On her leaving their house after the short visit subsequent to her marriage they were under the impression that she was ultimately going to join her husband; and from that time to the present she had done nothing to disturb their belief that she was awaiting his return in comfort, hoping against hope that his journey to Brazil would result in a short stay only, after which he would come to fetch her, or that he would write for her to join him; in any case that they would soon present a united front to their families and the world. This hope she still fostered. To let her parents know that she was a deserted wife, dependent, now that she had relieved their necessities, on her own hands for a living, after the éclat of a marriage which was to nullify the collapse of the first attempt, would be too much indeed.

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The set of brilliants returned to her mind. Where Clare had deposited them she did not know, and it mattered little, if it were true that she could only use and not sell them. Even were they absolutely hers it would be passing mean to enrich herself by a legal title to them which was not essentially hers at all.

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Meanwhile her husband’s days had been by no means free from trial. At this moment he was lying ill of fever in the clay lands near Curitiba in Brazil, having been drenched with thunder-storms and persecuted by other hardships, in common with all the English farmers and farm-labourers who, just at this time, were deluded into going thither by the promises of the Brazilian Government, and by the baseless assumption that those frames which, ploughing and sowing on English Liplands, had resisted all the weathers to whose moods they had been born, could resist equally well all the weathers by which they were surprised on Brazilian plains.

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To return. Thus it happened that when the last of Tess’s sovereigns had been spent she was unprovided with others to take their place, while on account of the season she found it increasingly difficult to get employment. Not being aware of the rarity of intelligence, energy, health, and willingness in any sphere of life, she refrained from seeking an indoor occupation; fearing towns, large houses, people of means and social sophistication, and of manners other than rural. From that direction of gentility Black Care had come. Society might be better than she supposed from her slight experience of it. But she had no proof of this, and her instinct in the circumstances was to avoid its purlieus.

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The small dairies to the west, beyond Port-Bredy, in which she had served as supernumerary milkmaid during the spring and summer required no further aid. Room would probably have been made for her at Talbothays, if only out of sheer compassion; but comfortable as her life had been there she could not go back. The anti-climax would be too intolerable; and her return might bring reproach upon her idolized husband. She could not have borne their pity, and their whispered remarks to one another upon her strange situation; though she would almost have faced a knowledge of her circumstances by every individual there, so long as her story had remained isolated in the mind of each. It was the interchange of ideas about her that made her sensitiveness wince. Tess could not account for this distinction; she simply knew that she felt it.

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She was now on her way to an upland farm in the centre of the county, to which she had been recommended by a wandering letter which had reached her from Marian. Marian had somehow heard that Tess was separated from her husband - probably through Izz Huett - and the good-natured and now tippling girl, deeming Tess in trouble, had hastened to notify to her former friend that she herself had gone to this upland spot after leaving the dairy, and would like to see her there, where there was room for other hands, if it was really true that she worked again as of old.

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With the shortening of the days all hope of obtaining her husband’s forgiveness began to leave her: and there was something of the habitude of the wild animal in the unreflecting instinct with which she rambled on - disconnecting herself by littles from her eventful past at every step, obliterating her identity, giving no thought to accidents or contingencies which might make a quick discovery of her whereabouts by others of importance to her own happiness, if not to theirs.

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Among the difficulties of her lonely position not the least was the attention she excited by her appearance, a certain bearing of distinction, which she had caught from Clare, being superadded to her natural attractiveness. Whilst the clothes lasted which had been prepared for her marriage, these casual glances of interest caused her no inconvenience, but as soon as she was compelled to don the wrapper of a fieldwoman, rude words were addressed to her more than once; but nothing occurred to cause her bodily fear till a particular November afternoon.

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She had preferred the country west of the River Brit to the upland farm for which she was now bound, because, for one thing, it was nearer to the home of her husband’s father; and to hover about that region unrecognized, with the notion that she might decide to call at the Vicarage some day, gave her pleasure. But having once decided to try the higher and drier levels, she pressed back eastward, marching afoot towards the village of Chalk-Newton, where she meant to pass the night.

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The lane was long and unvaried, and, owing to the rapid shortening of the days, dusk came upon her before she was aware. She had reached the top of a hill down which the lane stretched its serpentine length in glimpses, when she heard footsteps behind her back, and in a few moments she was overtaken by a man. He stepped up alongside Tess and said--

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`Good-night, my pretty maid’: to which she civilly replied.

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The light still remaining in the sky lit up her face, though the landscape was nearly dark. The man turned and stared hard at her.

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`Why, surely, it is the young wench who was at Trantridge awhile - young Squire d’Urberville’s friend? I was there at that time, though I don’t live there now.’

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She recognized in him the well-to-do boor whom Angel had knocked down at the inn for addressing her coarsely. A spasm of anguish shot through her, and she returned him no answer.

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`Be honest enough to own it, and that what I said in the town was true, though your fancy-man was so up about it - hey, my sly one? You ought to beg my pardon for that blow of his, considering.’

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Still no answer came from Tess. There seemed only one escape for her hunted soul. She suddenly took to her heels with the speed of the wind, and, without looking behind her, ran along the road till she came to a gate which opened directly into a plantation. Into this she plunged, and did not pause till she was deep enough in its shade to be safe against any possibility of discovery.

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Under foot the leaves were dry, and the foliage of some holly bushes which grew among the deciduous trees was dense enough to keep off draughts. She scraped together the dead leaves till she had formed them into a large heap, making a sort of nest in the middle. Into this Tess crept.

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Such sleep as she got was naturally fitful; she fancied she heard strange noises, but persuaded herself that they were caused by the breeze. She thought of her husband in some vague warm clime on the other side of the globe, while she was here in the cold. Was there another such a wretched being as she in the world? Tess asked herself; and, thinking of her wasted life, said, `All is vanity.’ She repeated the words mechanically, till she reflected that this was a most inadequate thought for modern days. Solomon had thought as far as that more than two thousand years ago; she herself, though not in the van of thinkers, had got much further. If all were only vanity, who would mind it? All was, alas, worse than vanity - injustice, punishment, exaction, death. The wife of Angel Clare put her hand to her brow, and felt its curve, and the edges of her eye-sockets perceptible under the soft skin, and thought as she did so that a time would come when that bone would be bare. `I wish it were now,’ she said.

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In the midst of these whimsical fancies she heard a new strange sound among the leaves. It might be the wind; yet there was scarcely any wind. Sometimes it was a palpitation, sometimes a flutter; sometimes it was a sort of gasp or gurgle. Soon she was certain that the noises came from wild creatures of some kind, the more so when, originating in the boughs overhead, they were followed by the fall of a heavy body upon the ground. Had she been ensconced here under other and more pleasant conditions she would have become alarmed; but, outside humanity, she had at present no fear.

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Day at length broke in the sky. When it had been day aloft for some little while it became day in the wood.

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Directly the assuring and prosaic light of the world’s active hours had grown strong she crept from under her hillock of leaves, and looked around boldly. Then she perceived what had been going on to disturb her. The plantation wherein she had taken shelter ran down at this spot into a peak, which ended it hitherward, outside the hedge being arable ground. Under the trees several pheasants lay about, their rich plumage dabbled with blood; some were dead, some feebly twitching a wing, some staring up at the sky, some pulsating quickly, some contorted, some stretched out - all of them writhing in agony, except the fortunate ones whose tortures had ended during the night by the inability of nature to bear more.

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Tess guessed at once the meaning of this. The birds had been driven down into the corner the day before by some shooting-party; and while those that had dropped dead under the shot, or had died before nightfall, had been searched for and carried off, many badly wounded birds had escaped and hidden themselves away, or risen among the thick boughs, where they had maintained their position till they grew weaker with loss of blood in the night-time, when they had fallen one by one as she had heard them.

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She had occasionally caught glimpses of these men in girlhood, looking over hedges, or peering through bushes, and pointing their guns, strangely accoutred, a bloodthirsty light in their eyes. She had been told that, rough and brutal as they seemed just then, they were not like this all the year round, but were, in fact, quite civil persons save during certain weeks of autumn and winter, when, like the inhabitants of the Malay Peninsula, they ran amuck, and made it their purpose to destroy life - in this case harmless feathered creatures, brought into being by artificial means solely to gratify these propensities - at once so unmannerly and so unchivalrous towards their weaker fellows in Nature’s teeming family.

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With the impulse of a soul who could feel for kindred sufferers as much as for herself, Tess’s first thought was to put the still living birds out of their torture, and to this end with her own hands she broke the necks of as many as she could find, leaving them to lie where she had found them till the gamekeepers should come - as they probably would come - to look for them a second time.

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`Poor darlings - to suppose myself the most miserable being on earth in the sight o’ such misery as yours!’ she exclaimed, her tears running down as she killed the birds tenderly. `And not a twinge of bodily pain about me! I be not mangled, and I be not bleeding, and I have two hands to feed and clothe me.’ She was ashamed of herself for her gloom of the night, based on nothing more tangible than a sense of condemnation under an arbitrary law of society which had no foundation in Nature.

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