8 
　  
　　And so it was that on a beautiful morning in May，two to three years after her return from Trantridge，Tess Durbeyfield left home for the second time．She was going in the opposite direction this time．When she reached the first hill，she looked back at Marlott and her father's house with sadness in her heart． 
　　She travelled partly by carriage and partly on foot，carrying her basket．Not far to her left she could see the trees which surrounded Kingsbere，with its church where her ancestors lay in their tombs．She could no longer admire or respect them． She almost hated them for ruining her life．Nothing of theirs was left except the old seal and spoon． 
　　‘Huh！I have as much of mother as father in me！’she said． 
　　‘All my prettiness comes from her，and she was only a dairymaid．’ 
　　Her walk took two hours，until she reached the hill overlooking the Valley of the Great Dairies． This valley was watered by the river Froom，and produced huge amounts of milk and butter，more even than Tess's Vale of Blackmoor， which was known as the Vale of Little Dairies． 
　　As she stood and looked，she realized the valleys were quite different．Here the fields and farms were much larger． She saw more cows at a glance than she had ever seen before．The evening sun shone on their red，white and brown bodies．She thought that this view was perhaps not as beautiful as a view of Blackmoor Vale，which she knew so well．There the sky was deep blue，the smell of the earth was heavy in the air，the streams ran slowly and silently．But this view was more cheerful． Here the air was clear and light， and the river Froom rushed as fast as the shadow of a cloud． 
　　Either the change in the quality of the air，or the feeling that she was going to start a new life here， made her feel much happier．She ran along， her hopes and the sunshine warming her． 
　　She looked at her best as she ran laughing into the warm wind．The desire for pleasure， which is in every living thing， had finally won over Tess． She was，after all，only a young woman of twenty， who had not finished growing up． No event，however unpleasant，could have marked her for ever． She was young and strong and beautiful， and could not remain sad for long． 
　　Her hopes rose higher than ever． She wanted to show how grateful she was for this second chance．She started singing love songs，but found they were not enough to express her feelings．She remembered the Sunday mornings of her girlhood，and sang：‘Oh sun and moon… Oh stars… Oh children of men… Praise the Lord！ Praise Him for ever！’ until she stopped suddenly and murmured， ‘But perhaps I don't quite know the Lord yet．’ 
　　This was probably a pagan feeling in a religious form． People who live in the country and are close to nature， like Tess，keep many of the pagan ideas of their ancestors in their souls．Religion learned in church comes much later， and does not touch them deeply． 
　　Tess was happy to be making her way independently in life． She really wanted to live honestly and work hard，unlike her father．Tess had her mother's energy and the energy of her youth to help her recover from her experience． Women do usually live through such experiences．‘Where there's life there's hope’ is still true for most‘betrayed’women． 
　　As Tess，full of enthusiasm，came downhill towards the dairy，she suddenly heard the milking call，again and again， from all parts of the valley．It was half－past four， when the dairy people brought in the cows． Tess followed the red and white animals，with their great bags of milk under them，into the farmyard． She saw the long sheds， and the wooden posts， shining and smooth where the cows had rubbed against them over the years． She saw the cows between the posts，the sun throwing their shadows on the wall as carefully as a painter paints a beautiful king or queen．As the cows waited for their turn，the milk fell in drops on the ground． 
　　The dairymaids and men had come from their cottages as they saw the cows arriving from the fields． Each girl sat on her three－legged stool as she milked，her right cheek resting on the cow's body，watching Tess arrive．The men milked with their hats low over their eyes and did not see her．One of them was a middle－aged man，the head－dairyman she was looking for．He worked six days a week in his white milking clothes， milking and butter－making， and on the seventh he wore his best suit to take his family proudly to church． Because of this people nearby used to say： 
Dairyman Dick 
All the week， 
On Sundays Mister Richard Crick． 
　　Most dairymen are usually bad－tempered at milking time， but Mr Crick was glad to get a new dairymaid at this busy time of the year．So he received Tess warmly and asked her how her family were． 
　　‘When I was a boy I knew your part of the country very well，’be said．‘An old woman of ninety—she's dead now but she used to live near here—she once told me there was an ancient noble family of a name like yours，who came from here originally．But I didn't take any notice of an old woman like that．’ 
　　‘Oh no， that's just a story，’said Tess． 
　　Then Mr Crick turned to business．‘You can milk well，my girl？I don't want my cows drying up，especially just now．’ 
　　‘Oh yes，I can，’answered Tess． 
　　He looked at her delicate hands and pale face． 
　　‘Quite sure you're strong enough for this sort of life？ It's comfortable enough here for rough country people but it's hard work．’ 
　　‘Oh yes，I'm strong enough． I'm used to hard work，’Tess insisted． 
　　‘Well，have some tea and something to eat．You've had a long journey，’he said kindly． 
　　‘No，I'd rather begin milking straight away，’said Tess． ‘I'll just drink a little milk first．’ 
　　This surprised Dairyman Crick，who appeared never to have thought of milk as a drink． 
　　‘Oh，if you can swallow it，have some，’he said，holding the bucket for her to drink from．‘I haven't touched any for years． It would lie in my stomach like a stone，so it would． Now，try that one and see how you get on．’And he pointed to the nearest cow． 
　　As soon as Tess was on her stool under the cow， and the milk was pouring between her fingers into the bucket，she really felt that her new life was beginning． As she relaxed，she looked around her． 
　　It was a large dairy．There were nearly a hundred milking cows．Dairyman Crick milked six or eight of the difficult ones with his own hands． He could not trust them to the dairymaids， because if the cows were badly milked their milk would simply dry up． 
　　For a while there was no more talk among the milkers． Suddenly Mr Crick got up from his stool． 
　　We're not getting as much milk from them as usual，’he said．‘We'd better sing them a song， friends， that's the only thing to do．’So the group of milkers started singing，to encourage the cows to give more． 
　　Mr Crick went on，‘But I think bulls like music better than cows．Did I tell you all about William Dewy？ On his way home after a wedding he found himself in a field with an angry bull． He took his violin and played some Christmas church music and down went the bull on his knees！ Just like the animals around baby Jesus！ And so William was able to escape．’ 
　　‘It's a curious story．It takes us back to the past，when belief in God was a living thing．’This unusual remark came from under a cow． 
　　‘Well， it's quite true， sir， believe it or not．I knew the man well，’said Mr Crick． 
　　‘Oh yes， I'm sure it's true，’said the man behind the brown cow．Tess could not see his face，and could not understand why the head－dairyman himself should call him sir．The man stayed under the cow long enough to milk three，at times saying something angrily to himself．Then he stood up， stretching his arms．Tess could now see him clearly． He wore the clothes of a dairyman but underneath he was quite different．He looked educated and gentlemanly． 
　　But now she realized that she had seen him before． He was one of the three walking brothers who had stopped their walk to admire the May－Day dance in Marlott a few years before． He had danced with some of the other girls but not with her． He had not noticed her and had gone on his way． For a moment she was worried that if he recognized her he might discover her story． But she soon saw he did not remember her at all． Since she had seen him in Marlott，his face had grown more thoughtful． He now had a young man's moustache and beard． From the time he had spent milking one cow，he was clearly a beginner at dairy work． 
　　Tess discovered that only two or three of the dairymaids slept in the house，besides herself．They all shared a big bedroom near the cheese room． That night one of the girls insisted on telling Tess about all the people at the dairy． To Tess，half asleep， the whispers seemed to be floating in the air． 
　　‘Mr Angel Clare—he's the one who's learning milking— he's a parson's son and thinks a lot and doesn't notice girls． His father is parson at Emminster，some way from here．His sons，except Mr Clare，are going to be parsons too．’ 
　　Tess gradually fell asleep．  
　 
8 新生活 
　  
　　因此，从纯瑞脊回来两三年后，苔丝·德北在5月的一个美丽的清晨，第二次离开了家。这一次她是朝相反的方向走去。当她爬上第一座小山时，她满怀忧伤地回头看了看马勒特村和她父亲的房子。 
　　她挎着篮子坐了一段马车，又走了一段路。在她左边不远的地方，她可以看到环绕王陴的树木，她的祖先就被安放在那儿的教堂墓地里。她不再倾慕，也不再尊敬他们了。她甚至有些恨他们，因为他们毁掉了她的生活。除了印章和银匙，他们什么也没留下。 
　　“嘿！妈妈给予我的同爸爸给予我的一样多！”她说道，“我的美貌都是从她身上继承下来的，而她只不过是个挤奶女工。” 
　　她步行了两个小时，才来到了可以俯视大牛奶场的山头。福鲁姆河灌溉着这个山谷，这儿生产着大量的牛奶和黄油，甚至比苔丝家那边的黑荒野山谷还多，黑荒野山谷以小牛奶场谷而闻名。 
　　她站定远眺，发现这儿的山谷截然不同。这里的田地和农场更广阔，而且她以前从来没有一眼望见过这么多的奶牛。夕阳85照在它们红色、白色还有棕色的皮毛上。她觉得这儿的风景也许并没有黑荒野山谷美丽，她对那个山谷太熟悉了。那儿的天空湛蓝无比，空气中充满了泥土的气息，溪水总是寂静缓慢地流淌着。但是这儿的景致更让人欢欣鼓舞。这儿的空气清新怡人，福鲁姆河水流湍急，就像一片白云的影子匆匆掠过。 
　　不管是空气质量的改变，还是她即将在此开始一种全新生活的感觉，都使她感到更加欢欣愉悦。她朝前跑去，她的希望和这儿的阳光温暖着她。 
　　当她大笑着跑进柔和的微风时，她的样子呈现出前所未有的神采。那种对幸福的渴望，那种存在于每一个有生命的物体中的渴望，终于重新赢得了苔丝。毕竟，她还只是一个20岁的年轻女子，还没有完全长大成人。任何事情，不管它有多么不幸，都不会永远在她身上留下伤痕。她年轻健康、精力充沛而且美丽动人，她可以不再长久地悲伤了。 
　　她从来没有像现在这样满怀希望。她想表达出自己对第二次机会的到来是如何地充满感激之情。她放声唱起了爱情歌曲，但觉得它们不足以表达她的感情。她回想起了少女时代礼拜日上午的情景，于是唱道：“哦，太阳和月亮……哦星星……哦，人类的孩子们……赞美上帝吧！永远地赞美他！”唱着唱着，她突然停下并自言自语道：“但也许我对上帝了解得还不够。” 
　　这也许只是用宗教形式表现的非基督教的感情。像苔丝这样生活在乡村、贴近自然的人，在心灵里保留了许多源于他们的祖先的非基督教思想。而从教堂得来的宗教信仰要迟得多，并没有多么深刻地影响他们。 
　　可以按自己的方式独立地生活让苔丝感到高兴。她真心愿意实实在在地生活并勤勤恳恳地工作，而不是像她父亲那样。苔丝有从母亲那儿获得的力量和自己年轻生命的力量来帮助她从过去的经历中恢复过来。女人们通常要经历这种生活。对多数被生活玩弄过的女人们来说，“哪儿有生活，哪儿就有希望”仍是一条不变的真理。 
　　当苔丝热情洋溢地朝着牛奶场跑下山时，她突然听到了挤奶的号令，一遍又一遍地在山谷各个角落响起。现在是四点半，到了牛奶场的人们把牛赶回来的时候了。苔丝跟着这些红色或白色、身下垂着硕大乳房的动物，跑进了场院。她看见了一排长长的屋棚和一根根木桩，由于奶牛长年的摩擦，它们被蹭得油光发亮。她看见了木桩之间的一头头奶牛，阳光把它们的阴影投射到墙上，就像画家精心绘制的一幅美丽的国王或王后的画像。还没有轮到它们呢，有几滴牛奶已滴到了地上。 
　　挤奶女工和男人们看到奶牛从地里回来了，就都从屋子里走了出来。挤奶时，每个女工都坐在一张三条腿的矮凳上，她们把右脸颊靠在牛的身子上，看到苔丝进来了。男人挤奶时压低帽子遮住了眼晴，没有注意到她。其中有一位中年男子，就是苔丝正在寻找的牛奶场主。他一礼拜六天穿着白色的挤奶服工作，挤奶，做黄油，到了第七天，他就穿上最好的衣服，带着全家人，体体面面地到教堂去做礼拜。由于这个缘故，附近的人们常说： 
　　　  
　　整个星期都是奶场工狄克， 
　　星期日是理查德·克里克先生。 
　　　  
　　大多数挤奶工在挤奶时都脾气暴躁，但克里克先生很高兴在一年中的繁忙季节里迎来了一个新的挤奶女工。他热情地接待苔丝，还问了她家人的情况。 
　　“当我还是一个孩子时，我对你们那个地方就非常熟悉。”他说道，“一位九十岁的老太太——她现在已经死了，但她过去住在这儿附近——曾经告诉过我，有一个同你的姓氏相像的古老高贵的家族，很早以前是这儿的人。可我没理会老太太说的话。” 
　　“哦，不，那不过是一个故事罢了。”苔丝说。 
　　然后克里克先生转到正事上：“你挤奶挤得好吗，我的孩子？我可不想看到我的牛不出奶，特别是在这个时候。” 
　　“哦，是的，我能行，”苔丝回答。 
　　他看了看她那双细嫩的手和有些苍白的脸。 
　　“你确信你有足够的体力过这种生活吗？这儿的生活对强壮的乡下人来说够舒服的了，但活儿很累。” 
　　“哦，是的，我有足够的体力。我已经习惯干重活儿了。”苔丝坚持说。 
　　“那好，去喝杯茶，吃点东西。你刚刚走了这么长的路。”他和善地说。 
　　“不，我宁愿立即开始挤奶，”苔丝说，“我先喝点儿牛奶就可以了。” 
　　这让奶场工克里克感到惊讶，他仿佛从来没想过牛奶也能这么喝似的。 
　　“哦，如果你喝得下，就喝吧，”他说，拿起了一个小桶让她喝。“我好几年没碰过它了。喝了它就像胃里放了块石头似的，是这样的。那么现在，你去挤那头牛，看看你干得怎样。”他指着最近的一头牛说道。 
　　苔丝坐到了奶牛下面的凳子上，牛奶从她的指间流泄到桶里，她真地感觉到她的新生活开始了。在她歇息的空隙，她环顾了一下四周。 
　　这是一个很大的牛奶场。有近一百头待挤的奶牛。奶场主克里克亲自挤六到八头不好挤的牛。他不放心把它们交给挤奶女工去挤，因为如果奶牛没被挤好，它们就会不出奶的。 
　　有一阵子，挤奶工们没有声响。克里克先生突然从凳子上站了起来。 
　　“我们今天挤的奶没有平常的多。”他说道，“我们最好还是给他们唱支歌吧，朋友们，只有这样啦。”于是这群挤奶工开始唱起歌来，想促使奶牛们出更多的奶。 
　　克里克先生继续说道：“但我认为公牛比母牛更喜欢音乐。我跟你们讲过威廉·杜威的事吗？一次婚礼结束后，在回家路上的一块田地上，他遇上了一头愤怒的公牛。他拿出了小提琴，拉起一些圣诞节的教堂音乐，那头公牛居然跪下来了：就像围绕着小耶稣的动物那样！然后威廉就得以逃脱了。” 
　　“这是一个奇特的故事。它把我们带回到过去的年代，那时对上帝的信仰是生动真实的。”有人从一头奶牛身下做出了这个不平常的论断。 
　　“哦，这是完全真实的，先生，信不信由你。我跟那个人相当熟。”克里克先生说。 
　　“哦，是的，我相信它是真实的，”那头棕色奶牛后面的人说道。苔丝无法看见他的脸，也不明白为什么牛奶场场主本人还要称呼他为先生。这人待在一头奶牛下面的时间足够让别人挤三头牛了，他还不时生气地自言自语。然后他站了起来，伸展了一下胳膊。这时苔丝可以清楚地看到他的脸了。他穿着挤奶工的衣服，但他本人显得与众不同。他看起来受过教育，很有教养。 
　　但是她现在想起来，她以前曾见过这张脸庞。几年以前，在马勒特村的五月节舞会上，有三个徒步旅行的兄弟曾驻足观看过，他就是三兄弟之一，那个和其他一些女孩跳过舞但没同她跳的人。他没注意到她，又继续上路了。她一时忐忑不安起来，怕他认出她来后会得知她的经历。但很快，她发现他根本想不起她来了。自从她在马勒特见过他之后，他显得更深沉了。他现在蓄起了青年人的唇髭和络腮胡。从他挤一头牛花费的时间来看，对牛奶场的活儿，他显然是一个新手。 
　　苔丝发现除了她之外，还有两三个挤奶女工和她睡在一间房子里。她们共有的这间大卧室挨着奶酪室。那天晚上，她们中有个姑娘坚持要给苔丝讲牛奶场里所有人的情况。苔丝半睡半醒地听着，这些耳语就像漂浮在空中一样。 
　　“安吉尔·克莱尔先生——就是那个学挤牛奶的人——是一位牧师的儿子，爱思考问题，但对女孩子从不留意。她父亲是爱敏斯特的牧师，离这儿有些距离。他的儿子们，除了克莱尔先生，也都打算当牧师。” 
　　苔丝渐渐地睡着了。 
　　　    


 