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属类: 双语小说 【分类】世界名著 -[作者: 托马斯-哈代] 阅读:[31915]
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终于到了旧历圣母节的前夕,农业界的人忙着搬家的热烈场面,只有在一年中这个特别的日子里才会出现。这一天是合同期满的日子,在烛光节签订的下一年的户外劳动合同,也要从这一天开始。那些不愿意继续在老地方工作的庄稼汉——或者叫劳工,他们自古以来都叫自己庄稼汉,劳工这个词是从外面的世界引进来的——就要搬到新的农场上去。

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这些每年一次的从一个农场到另一个农场的迁移,在这儿变得越来越多了。在苔丝的母亲还是一个小孩子的时候,马洛特村一带大多数种地的人,一辈子都是在一个农场里干活,他们的父亲和祖父都是以那个农场为家的;但是近些年来,这种希望每年搬迁的倾向达到了高潮。这种搬迁不仅使年轻的家庭高兴激动,而且也可能从搬迁中得到好处。这一家人住的地方是埃及,但是对从远处看它的家庭来说,它就变成了福地①,等到他们搬到那儿住下以后,才发现那个地方又变成了埃及;所以他们就这样不停地搬来搬去。

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①埃及、福地,宗教典故。古以色列人流落埃及,遭受虐待,祈祷上帝,上帝于是帮助摩西带领以色列人从埃及达到迦南,因而迦南被称为福地。见《圣经·出埃及记》第一至第十六章。

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但是,乡村生活中所有这些越来越明显的变动,并不完全是因为农业界的不稳定产生的。农村人口在继续减少。从前在乡村里,还有另外一个有趣的、见识广的阶级同种地的庄稼汉居住在一起,他们的地位比庄稼汉高,苔丝的父亲和母亲属于这个阶级,这个阶级包括木匠、铁匠、鞋匠、小贩,还有一些除了种地的庄稼汉而外的不好分类的人。他们这一班人都有固定的目的和职业,有的和苔丝的父亲一样,是不动产的终身所有人,也有的是副本持有不动产的人,有时候也有一些小不动产所有人。但是他们长期租住的房屋一经到期,就很少再租给相同的佃户,除非是农场主绝对需要这些房屋给他的雇工住,不然大部分房屋都被拆除。那些不是被直接雇来干活的住户,都不大受到欢迎,有些人被赶走以后,留下来的人生意受到影响,也只好跟着走了。这些家庭是过去乡村生活中的主体,保存着乡村的生活传统,现在只好逃到更大的生活中心避难了;关于这个过程,统计学家幽默地称为“农村人口流向城市的趋势”,这种趋势,其实同向下流的水由于机械的作用向山上流是一样的。

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马洛特村的房屋经过拆除以后,就这样减少了,所以房主都要把没有拆除的房屋收回去,给自己的工人住。自从苔丝出现了那件事后,她的生活就笼罩在一种阴影里,既然德北菲尔德家的后人名誉不好,大家就心照不宣地作了打算,等到租期一满,就得让德北菲尔德家搬走,仅是只从村中的道德方面考虑也得如此。确实,德北菲尔德这家人无论在性情、节制,还是在贞操方面,一直不是村子里闪闪发光的典型。苔丝的父亲,甚至苔丝的母亲,有时候都喝得醉醺醺的,孩子们也很少上教堂,大女儿还有过一段风流艳史。村子要想办法维持道德方面的纯洁。所以圣母节的第一天刚到,德北菲尔德一家就非得离开,这座房屋的房间多,被一个有一大家人的赶大车的租用了;寡妇琼和她的女儿苔丝、丽莎·露,还有儿子阿伯拉罕和更小的一些孩子,不得不搬往其它的地方。

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在搬家前的那个晚上,天下起了蒙蒙细雨,一片阴沉,所以不到天黑的时候天就黑了。因为这是他们在自己的老家和出生的地方住的最后一个晚上,所以德北菲尔德太太、丽莎·露和阿拉伯罕就一起出门去向一些朋友告别,苔丝则留在家里看家,等他们回来。

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苔丝跪在窗前的一条凳子上,脸贴着窗户,看见玻璃上的水向下流着,好像玻璃外面又蒙上了一层玻璃。她目光落在一张蜘蛛网上,那张蛛网不该结在一个没有蚊蝇飞过的角落里,所以那只蜘蛛大概早已经饿死了。风从窗户缝里吹进来,轻轻地颤抖着。苔丝心里想着全家的境况,觉得自己是一家人的祸根。假如她这次没有回家来,她的母亲和孩子们也许会被允许住下去,做一个按星期缴纳租金的住户。可是她刚一回来,就被村子里几个爱挑剔和有影响的人看见了:他们看见她来到教堂墓地,用一把小铲子把被毁掉了的婴儿坟墓修好了。因此,他们知道她又回家住了;她的母亲也遭到指责,说她“窝藏”自己的女儿;这也引起琼的尖刻反驳,说自己不屑住在这儿和立刻搬走的话来;话一说出口,别人也信以为真,所以就有了现在这种结果。

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“我永远不回家才好!”苔丝伤心地对自己说。

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苔丝一心想着上面的那些事情,所以当时她看见街上有一个穿着白色雨衣的人骑着马走来,她起初并没有加以注意、大概是她把脸贴在窗玻璃上的缘故,他很快就看见她了,就拍马向屋前走来,差不多走进了墙下面留下来种花的那一溜土垅子。他用马鞭敲了敲窗户,苔丝才看见他。雨差不多停了,她按照他手势的意思把窗户打开。

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“你没有看见我吧?”德贝维尔问。

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“我没有注意,”她说。“我相信我听见你了,但是我以为是马车的声音。我好像在做梦似的。”

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“啊!你也许听说过德贝维尔家的马车的故事。我想,你听说过那个传说吧?”

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“没有。我的——有个人曾经想把那个故事告诉我,但是后来又没有告诉我。”

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“如果你是德贝维尔家族的真正后人,我想我也不应该告诉你。至于我,我是假的德贝维尔,所以无关紧要。那个故事有点儿吓人。据说有一辆并不存在的马车,只有真正德贝维尔家族血统的人才能听见它的声音,听见了马车声音的人都认为是一件不吉利的事情。这件事与一桩谋杀案有关,凶手是几百年前一个姓德贝维尔的人。”

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“你现在已经讲开了,就把它讲完吧。”

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“很好。据说有一个姓德贝维尔的人绑架了一个漂亮女人,那个女人想从绑架她的那辆马车上逃跑,在挣扎中他就把她杀了,也许是她把他杀了——我忘了是谁把谁杀了。这是这个故事的一种说法——我看见你们把盆子和水桶都收拾好了。你们要搬家了,是不是?”

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“是的,明天搬家——明天是旧圣母节。”

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“我听说你们要搬家,但是我还不敢相信,好像太突然了。是为什么呢?”

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“那座房屋的租期到我父亲死时为止,我的父亲一死,我们就没有权利住下去了。要不是因为我的缘故,我们也许还能一礼拜一礼拜地住下去。”

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“因为你什么呢?”

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“我不是一个——正经女人。”

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德贝维尔的脸顿时红了。

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“这些人真是不要脸!可怜的势利小人!但愿他们的肮脏灵魂都烧成灰烬!”他用讽刺憎恶的口气喊着说。“你们就是因为这个才搬家的,是不是?是被他们赶走的,是不是?”

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“这也并不完全算是被他们赶走的;不过他们说过我们应该早点搬家的话,现在大家都在搬家,所以我们还是现在搬家最好,因为现在的机会好一些。”

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“你们搬到哪儿去呢?”

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“金斯伯尔。我们在那儿租了房子。我母亲偏爱我父亲的老家,所以她要搬到那儿去。”

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“可是你母亲一家人租房住不合适呀,又是住在一个窟窿大的小镇上。为什么不到特兰里奇我家花房里去住呢?自从我的母亲死后,已经没有多少鸡了;但是房子还在,花园还在,这你都知道。那房子一天就可以粉刷好,你母亲就可以十分舒服地住在那儿了;我还要把孩子们都送到一个好学校去。我真的应该为你帮一点儿忙!”

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“但是我们已经在金斯伯尔把房子租好了呀!”苔丝说。“我们可以在那儿等——”

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“等——等什么呀?等你那个好丈夫吧,这是不会错的。你听着好啦,苔丝,我知道男人是一些什么样的人,心里也记得你们是为什么分离的,我敢肯定他是不会同你和好的。好啦,虽然我曾经是你的敌人,但是我现在是你的朋友,你不相信也罢。到我的小屋去住吧。我们把家禽养起来,你的母亲可以把它们照管得很好,孩子们也可以去上学。”

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苔丝的呼吸越来越急促,后来她说——

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“我怎样才知道你会这么办呢?你的想法也许改变了——然后——我们——我的母亲——又要无家可归了。”

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“啊,不会改变的,不会的。如果你认为必要,我可以写一份防止我改变主意的字据给你。你想一想吧。”

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苔丝摇了摇头。但是德贝维尔坚持不让,她很少看见他如此坚决,她不答应,他就不肯罢休。

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“请你告诉你的母亲吧!”他郑重地说。“这本来是应该由她作决定的事,不是由你来作主的。明天早上我就让人把房子打扫干净,粉刷好,把火生起来,到晚上的时候房子就干了,这样你们就可以直接搬进去。请你记住,我等着你们。”

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苔丝又摇了摇头;心里涌现出各种复杂的感情。她无法抬头看德贝维尔了。

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“我过去欠着你一笔人情债,这你是知道的!”他嘟哝着说。“你也把我的宗教狂热给治好了;所以我高兴——”

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“我宁愿你还保持着你的宗教狂热,这样你就可以继续为宗教做事!”

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“我很高兴能有机会为你作一点儿补偿。明天我希望能听到你的母亲从车上卸东西的声音——现在让我们为这件事握手吧——亲爱的美丽的苔丝!”

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他说最后一句话的时候,把声音放低了,好像嘟哝一样,一面把手从半开的窗户中伸进去。苔丝的眼睛带着狂怒的感情,急忙把固定窗户的栓子一拉,这样就把德贝维尔的胳膊夹在窗户和石头的直棂中间了。

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“真是该死——你真狠心呀!”他把胳膊抽出来说。“不,不!——我知道你不是故意这样做的。好吧,我等着你。至少希望你的母亲和孩子们会去。”

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“我不会去的——我的钱多着啦!”她大声喊。

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“你的钱在哪儿?”

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“在我的公公那儿,如果我去要,他就会把钱给我。”

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“如果你去要。可是你不会去要,苔丝,我知道你知道得很清楚。你不会找别人要钱的——你宁肯饿死也不会去找人要钱!”

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说完这些话,他就骑着马走了。刚好在那条街的拐角的地方,他遇见了从前那个提着油漆桶的人,那个人问他是不是把道友抛弃了。

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“见你的鬼去吧!”德贝维尔说。

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德贝维尔走了,苔丝在那儿待了好久好久,突然,她心底里涌起一股因受尽委屈而要反叛的情绪,引发了她的悲痛,不禁泪如泉涌,涨满了她的眼睛。她的丈夫,安琪尔·克莱尔自己也和别人一样,待她太残酷了,他的确待她太残酷了!她过去从来没有这样想过,但是他待她的确太残酷了!在她的一生中——她可以从她的心底里发誓——从来没有故意做错过事,可是残酷的惩罚却降落在她的身上。无论她犯的是什么罪,也不是她故意犯的罪,既然不是故意犯罪,那她为什么要遭受这种无穷无尽的惩罚呢?

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她满腹委屈地顺手拿过一张纸,在上面潦潦草草地写下了这样的话:

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啊,安琪尔呀,为什么你待我这样无情无义啊!这是我不应该受的呀。我已经前前后后仔细地想过了,我永远永远也不会宽恕你了!你知道我不是故意委屈你的,为什么你却要这样委屈我呢?你太狠心了,的确太狠心了!我只好尽力把你忘了。我在你手里,得到的都是委屈呀!

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她看着窗外,等到送信的路过,就跑出上把信交给他,然后又回去呆呆地坐在窗前。

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写一封这样的信和一封情词哀怨的信没有什么不同。他怎能为她的哀怨动心呢?事实并没有改变:没有什么新的情况改变他的观点。

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天越来越黑了,火光在房间里闪耀着。两个最大的孩子和母亲一起出去了,四个更小的孩子年龄从三岁半到十一岁不等,都穿着黑裙子,围坐在壁炉前叽叽喳喳地谈着孩子们的事情。屋里没有点蜡烛,苔丝后来也就和孩子们一起谈起来。

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“宝贝们,在我们出生的这座屋子里,我们只能在这儿睡最后一个晚上了,”苔丝急忙说。“我们应该把这件事想一想,你们说是不是?”

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孩子们变得安静下来;在他们那个年纪,最容易感情激动,一想到他们就要离开他们的故土了,一个个都咧嘴哭了出来,可是就在白天,他们一想到要搬到新地方去,还一个个感到高兴呢。

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“亲爱的,你们给我唱支歌曲好不好?”

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“我们唱什么歌曲呢?”

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“你们会唱什么歌曲就唱什么歌曲好啦,我都愿意听。”

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孩子们暂时安静了一会儿;第一个孩子打破了沉默,轻声试着唱起来;第二个孩子开始跟着唱,最后第三个和第四个孩子也加入进来,一起唱起了他们在主日学校学会的歌曲——

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我们在这儿受苦受难,

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我们在这儿相聚离别;

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在天堂我们就不会分开。①

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①这是主日学校的流行赞美诗,名为(Heeven Anticipated),T.Bilby作于1832年。

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他们四个人一起唱着,那种神情就好像老早已经把问题解决了并且解决得没有错误的人,觉得不需要多加考虑了,所以神情冷静呆板。他们的脸一个个都很紧张,使劲地唱着每一个音节,同时还不住地去看中间闪烁不定的火焰,最小那个孩子还唱得错了节拍。

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苔丝转过身去,又走到窗户跟前。外面的天色已经完全黑了,但是她把脸贴着窗户玻璃,仿佛要看穿外面浓浓的黑夜,其实,她是在掩藏自己眼中的泪水。只要她真能相信孩子们唱的歌曲里面的话,真的敢肯定是那样的话,那么一切将和现在多么不同呀,那么她就可以放心地把他们交给上帝和他们未来的王国了!叮是,那是无法办到的,所以她还得想办法,做他们的上帝,在一个诗人写的诗句里,里面有一种辛辣的讽刺,既是对苔丝的讽刺,也是对其他千千万万的人的讽刺——

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我们不是赤裸着降生

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而是驾着荣耀的祥云。②

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②这是华兹华斯的诗句,见《Ode on Intimation of immortality from Recollections of Early Childhood》一诗。

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在苔丝和苔丝这样的人看来,下世为人本身就是卑鄙的个人欲望遭受的痛苦,从结果来看,也好像无法让它合乎道理,至多只能减轻一些痛苦。

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在苍茫的夜色里,苔丝看见她的母亲和瘦长的丽莎·露以及亚伯拉罕从潮湿的路上走了回来。不久德北菲尔德太太穿着木鞋走到了门口,苔丝打开门。

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“我看见窗户外面有马的蹄印呐!”琼说。“有人来过吗?”

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“没有人来过!”苔丝说。

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坐在火边的孩子们表情严肃地看着她,其中有一个低声说——

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“怎么啦,苔丝,骑马的是一个绅士啊!”

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“那个绅士是谁?”母亲问。“是你的丈夫吗?”

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“不是的。我的丈夫永远永远也不会来了,”她用绝望的语气回答说。

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“那么他是谁呀?”

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“啊!你不必问我了。你以前见过他,我从前也见过他。”

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“啊!他说什么啦?”琼好奇地问。

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“等到我们明天在金斯伯尔住下来了,我再一个字一个字地告诉你。”

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她已经说过,那个人不是她的丈夫。可是在她的意识里,从肉体的意义上说,她在心里越来越感到只有那个人才是她的丈夫。

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She plunged into the chilly equinoctial darkness as the clock struck ten, for her fifteen miles’ walk under the steely stars. In lonely districts night is a protection rather than a danger to a noiseless pedestrian, and knowing this Tess pursued the nearest course along by-lanes that she would almost have feared in the day time; but marauders were wanting now, and spectral fears were driven out of her mind by thoughts of her mother. Thus she proceeded mile after mile, ascending and descending till she came to Bulbarrow, and about midnight looked from that height into the abyss of chaotic shade which was all that revealed itself of the Vale on whose further side she was born. Having already traversed about five miles on the upland she had now some ten or eleven in the lowland before her journey would be finished. The winding road downwards became just visible to her under the wan starlight as she followed it, and soon she paced a soil so contrasting with that above it that the difference was perceptible to the tread and to the smell. It was the heavy clay land of Blackmoor Vale, and a part of the Vale to which turnpike-roads had never penetrated. Superstitions linger longest on these heavy soils. Having once been forest, at this shadowy time it seemed to assert something of its old character, the far and the near being blended, and every tree and tall hedge making the most of its presence. The harts that had been hunted here, the witches that had been pricked and ducked, the green-spangled fairies that `whickered’ at you as you passed; the place teemed with beliefs in them still, and they formed an impish multitude now.

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At Nuttlebury she passed the village inn, whose sign creaked in response to the greeting of her footsteps, which not a human soul heard but herself. Under the thatched roofs her mind’s eye beheld relaxed tendons and flaccid muscles, spread out in the darkness beneath coverlets made of little purple patchwork squares, and undergoing a bracing process at the hands of sleep for renewed labour on the morrow, as soon as a hint of pink nebulosity appeared on Hambledon Hill.

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At three she turned the last corner of the maze of lanes she had threaded, and entered Marlott, passing the field in which, as a club-girl, she had first seen Angel Clare, when he had not danced with her; the sense of disappointment remained with her yet. In the direction of her mother’s house she saw a light. It came from the bedroom window, and a branch waved in front of it and made it wink at her. As soon as she could discern the outline of the house - newly thatched with her money - it had all its old effect upon Tess’s imagination. Part of her body and life it ever seemed to be; the slope of its dormers, the finish of its gables, the broken courses of brick which topped the chimney, all had something in common with her personal character. A stupefaction had come into these features, to her regard; it meant the illness of her mother.

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She opened the door so softly as to disturb nobody; the lower room was vacant, but the neighbour who was sitting up with her mother came to the top of the stairs, and whispered that Mrs Durbeyfield was no better, though she was sleeping just then. Tess prepared herself a breakfast, and then took her place as nurse in her mother’s chamber.

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In the morning, when she contemplated the children, they had all a curiously elongated look; although she had been away little more than a year their growth was astounding; and the necessity of applying herself heart and soul to their needs took her out of her own cares.

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Her father’s ill-health was of the same indefinite kind, and he sat in his chair as usual. But the day after her arrival he was unusually bright. He had a rational scheme for living, and Tess asked him what it was.

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`I’m thinking of sending round to all the old antiqueerians in this part of England,’ he said, `asking them to subscribe to a fund to maintain me. I’m sure they’d see it as a romantical, artistical, and proper thing to do. They spend lots o’ money in keeping up old ruins, and finding the bones o’things, and such like; and living remains must be more interesting to ’em still, if they only knowed of me. Would that somebody would go round and tell ’em what there is living among ’em, and they thinking nothing of him! If Pa’son Tringham, who discovered me, had lived, he’d ha done it, I’m sure.’

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Tess postponed her arguments on this high project till she had grappled with pressing matters in hand, which seemed little improved by her remittances. When indoor necessities had been cased she turned her attention to external things. It was now the season for planting and sowing; many gardens and allotments of the villagers had already received their spring tillage; but the garden and the allotment of the Durbeyfields were behindhand. She found, to her dismay, that this was owing to their having eaten all the seed potatoes,-that last lapse of the improvident. At the earliest moment she obtained what others she could procure, and in a few days her father was well enough to see to the garden, under Tess’s persuasive efforts: while she herself undertook the allotment-plot which they rented in a field a couple of hundred yards out of the village.

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She liked doing it after the confinement of the sick chamber, where she was not now required by reason of her mother’s improvement. Violent motion relieved thought. The plot of ground was in a high, dry open enclosure, where there were forty or fifty such pieces, and where labour was at its briskest when the hired labour of the day had ended. Digging began usually at six o’clock, and extended indefinitely into the dusk or moonlight. Just now heaps of dead weeds and refuse were burning on many of the plots, the dry weather favouring their combustion.

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One fine day Tess and ’Liza-Lu worked on here with their neighbours till the last rays of the sun smote flat upon the white pegs that divided the plots. As soon as twilight succeeded to sunset the flare of the couch-grass and cabbage-stalk fires began to light up the allotments fitfully, their outlines appearing and disappearing under the dense smoke as wafted by the wind. When a fire glowed, banks of smoke, blown level along the ground, would themselves become illuminated to an opaque lustre, screening the workpeople from one another; and the meaning of the `pillar of a cloud,’ which was a wall by day and a light by night, could be understood.

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As evening thickened some of the gardening men and women gave over for the night, but the greater number remained to get their planting done, Tess being among them, though she sent her sister home. It was on one of the couch-burning plots that she laboured with her fork, its four shining prongs resounding against the stones and dry clods in little clicks. Sometimes she was completely involved in the smoke of her fire; then it would leave her figure free, irradiated by the brassy glare from the heap. She was oddly dressed to-night, and presented a somewhat staring aspect, her attire being a gown bleached by many washings, with a short black jacket over it, the effect of the whole being that of a wedding and funeral guest in one. The women further back wore white aprons, which, with their pale faces, were all that could be seen of them in the gloom, except when at moments they caught a flash from the flames.

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Westward, the wiry boughs of the bare thorn hedge which formed the boundary of the field rose against the pale opalescence of the lower sky. Above, Jupiter hung like a full-blown jonquil, so bright as almost to throw a shade. A few small nondescript stars were appearing elsewhere. Iii the distance a dog barked, and wheels occasionally rattled along the dry road.

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Still the prongs continued to click assiduously, for it was not late-, and though the air was fresh and keen there was a whisper of spring in it that cheered the workers on. Something in the place, the hour, the crackling fires, the fantastic mysteries of light and shade, made others as well as Tess enjoy being there. Nightfall, which in the frost of winter comes as a fiend and in the warmth of summer as a lover, came as a tranquillizer on this March day.

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Nobody looked at his or her companions. The eyes of all were on the soil as its turned surface was revealed by the fires. Hence as Tess stirred the clods, and sang her foolish little songs with scarce now a hope that Clare would ever hear them, she did not for a long time notice the person who worked nearest to her - a man in a long smockfrock who, she found, was forking the same plot as herself, and whom she supposed her father had sent there to advance the work. She became more conscious of him when the direction of his digging brought him closer. Sometimes the smoke divided them; then it swerved, and the two were visible to each other but divided from all the rest.

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Tess did not speak to her fellow-worker, nor did he speak to her. Nor did she think of him further than to recollect that he had not been there when it was broad daylight, and that she did not know him as any one of the Marlott labourers, which was no wonder, her absences having been so long and frequent of late years. By-and-by he dug so close to her that the fire-beams were reflected as distinctly from the steel prongs of his fork as from her own. On going up to the fire to throw a pitch of dead weeds upon it, she found that he did the same on the other side. The fire flared up, and she beheld the face of d’Urberville.

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The unexpectedness of his presence, the grotesqueness of his appearance in a gathered smockfrock, such as was now worn only by the most old-fashioned of the labourers, had a ghastly comicality that chilled her as to its bearing. D’Urberville emitted a low long laugh.

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`If I were inclined to joke I should say, How much this seems like Paradise!’ he remarked whimsically, looking at her with an inclined head.

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`What do you say?’ she weakly asked.

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`A jester might say this is just like Paradise. You are Eve, and I am the old Other One come to tempt you in the disguise of an inferior animal. I used to be quite up in that scene of Milton’s when I was theological. Some of it goes--

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"Empress, the way is ready, and not long,

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Beyond a row of myrtles...

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... If thou accept

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My conduct, I can bring thee thither soon."

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"Lead then," said Eve.

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And so on. My dear, dear Tess, I am only putting this to you as a thing that you might have supposed or said quite untruly, because you think so badly of me.’

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`I never said you were Satan, or thought it. I don’t think of you in that way at all. My thoughts of you are quite cold, except when you affront me. What, did you come digging here entirely because of me?’

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`Entirely. To see you; nothing more. The smockfrock, which I saw hanging for sale as I came along, was an after-thought, that I mightn’t be noticed. I come to protest against your working like this.’

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`But I like doing it - it is for my father.’

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`Your engagement at the other place is ended?’

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`Yes.’

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`Where are you going to next? To join your dear husband?’

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She could not bear the humiliating reminder.

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`O - I don’t know!’ she said bitterly. `I have no husband!’

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`It is quite true - in the sense you mean. But you have a friend, and I have determined that you shall be comfortable in spite of yourself. When you get down to your house you will see what I have sent there for you.’

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`O, Alec, I wish you wouldn’t give me anything at all! I cannot take it from you! I don’t like - it is not right!’

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`It is right!’ he cried lightly. `I am not going to see a woman whom I feel so tenderly for as I do for you, in trouble without trying to help her.’

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`But I am very well off! I am only in trouble about - about - not about living at all!’

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She turned, and desperately resumed her digging, tears dripping upon the fork-handle and upon the clods.

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`About the children - your brothers and sisters,’ he resumed. `I’ve been thinking of them.’

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Tess’s heart quivered - he was touching her in a weak place. He had divined her chief anxiety. Since returning home her soul had gone out to those children with an affection that was passionate.

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42

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`No, sir!’

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`How damned foolish this is!’ burst out d’Urberville. `Why, he thinks we are the same family; and will be quite satisfied!’

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