10 
　  
　　Dairyman Crick insisted that all the dairy people should milk different cows every day， not just their favourites． He was worried that a dairymaid might leave the dairy， and then her cows would not like being milked by a stranger． However， Tess began to find that the cows which came to her usually happened to be her favourites． This made her milking much easier． But she soon realized that it was not by chance， as it was Angel Clare who sent the cows in for milking． 
　　‘Mr Clare，you have sent me my favourite cows！’she accused him one morning， blushing． 
　　‘Well， it doesn't matter，’ said he．‘ You will always be here to milk them．’ 
　　‘Do you think so？I hope I shall．But I don't know．’Afterwards she was angry with herself． She had spoken too seriously to him， as if he were involved in her staying or leaving． In the evening after milking she walked in the garden alone， thinking about it． 
　　It was a typical summer evening in June． The air was delicate and there was a complete， absolute silence． It was broken by the sound of a harp． The notes floated in the still air， strong and clear． Tess listened like a fascinated bird． She drew near to Clare， who still had not seen her． She was conscious of neither time nor space． The tune moved through her mind and body， bringing tears to her eyes． The waves of colour of the wild flowers mixed with the waves of sound．Angel finished playing， and caught sight of her． She blushed and moved away． 
　　‘Why are you going， Tess？’he asked．‘Are you afraid？’ 
　　‘Oh no， sir， not of outdoor things．’ 
　　‘But indoors？’ 
　　‘Well， yes， sir．’ 
　　‘Life in general？’ 
　　‘Yes，sir．’ 
　　‘Ah， so am I，very often． Being alive is rather serious，don't you think so？’ 
　　‘It is， now you put it like that．’ 
　　‘All the same， I wouldn't expect a young girl like you to feel that． Why？ Come， tell me．’ 
　　After a moment's hesitation she answered，‘The trees ask questions with their eyes， don't they？ And you seem to see hundreds of tomorrows all in a line，the first big and clear， the others getting smaller． But they all look fierce and cruel． But you can drive away all these ideas with your music， sir！’ 
　　He was surprised to find that this dairymaid had such sad thoughts． She was expressing in her own words the ache of modern life． This sadness made her more interesting to him．He did not know that her experience had given her great strength of feeling． Tess， on the other hand， could not understand why a man of religious family， good education and financial independence should feel sorry to be alive． How could this admirable and poetic man have felt， as she did two or three years ago， that he would rather die？ It was true that he was not at present living among gentlemen． But he was studying what he wanted to know， and would become a rich farmer in time． So，as they neither understood each other's secrets， they were both puzzled and waited to find out more． 
　　At first Tess regarded Angel as an intelligence rather than a man． She became quite depressed as she realized the distance between her own knowledge and his． One day he asked her why she looked so sad． 
　　‘Oh， it's only that I feel I've been wasting my life！ When I see what you know， I feel what a nothing I am！’ 
　　‘Well， my dear Tess，’ said Angel with some enthusiasm，‘I shall be only too glad to help you study history， for example…’ 
　　‘I don't know． What's the use of learning that I'm one of a long row， and that my past and future are like thousands of other people's？ But there's one thing I'd like to know—why the sun shines on the good and the bad just the same，’ she said， her voice trembling． 
　　‘Oh，Tess，don't be bitter！’Of course he had wondered this himself in the past． But as he looked at her innocent lips， he thought this pure child of nature could only have picked up the question from others． She could not possibly have any guilt in her past． 
　　When he had gone， Tess felt again how stupid she must appear to him．She wondered whether she could gain his respect by telling him of her d’Urberville blood． She first asked the dairyman if Mr Clare was interested in old families who had lost their money and land． 
　　‘No，’said Mr Crick firmly． ‘He's a rebel， and the one thing he hates is an old family．’After hearing this not very accurate view of Clare's opinions， poor Tess was glad she had not mentioned her ancestors． 
　　That summer， Tess and Clare unconsciously studied each other， balanced on the edge of a passion， yet just keeping out of it． But all the time， like two streams in a valley， they were destined to join．Tess had never been so happy as she was now， and perhaps never would be so again． They met continually．They could not help it．They met daily in the half-light， at three o’clock in the morning， just before milking． They felt they were the first two up in the whole world， like Adam and Eve． Tess seemed like a queen to Clare， perhaps because he knew that she was the most beautiful woman walking about at this time of day． Lovely women are usually asleep at midsummer sunrise． But Tess was near， and the rest were nowhere． In the strange light she was no longer a milkmaid， but a vision of woman， the whole of womanhood in one form． 
　　One day just after breakfast they all gathered in the milkhouse． The milk was turning in the churn， but the butter would not come．Dairyman Crick was worried． 
　　‘Maybe someone in the house is in love，’suggestea his wife．‘That sometimes causes it． D’you remember that maid years ago， and the butter didn't come…？’ 
　　‘Ah yes， but that wasn't being in love，’replied Mr Crick．‘That was damage to the churn．’He turned to Clare to tell the story． 
　　‘Jack Dollop， one of our milkers， got a girl into trouble．One day her mother came looking for him with a great heavy umbrella in her hand．Jack hid in the churn，but she found him and turned it round and round．“ Stop，stop！” cried Jack．“If you promise to marry my daughter！”shouted the mother．And so he did．’ 
　　Tess， very pale， had gone to the door for some fresh air．Fortunately the butter suddenly came． But Tess remained depressed all afternoon．To the others the story was funny．She alone could see the sorrow in it， and it reminded her of her experience． 
　　Tess was first in bed that night， and was half asleep as the other girls undressed． She saw them standing at the window looking at someone in the garden with great interest． 
　　‘It's no use you being in love with him any more than me，Retty Priddle，’ said Marian， the eldest． 
　　‘There he is again！’cried lzz Huett， a pale girl with dark hair．‘ I would just marry him tomorrow if he asked me，’said Marian， blushing． 
　　‘So would I， and more，’murmured Izz． 
　　‘And I too，’whispered Retty shyly． 
　　‘We can't all marry him，’said Izz． 
　　‘We can't anyway，’said Marian．‘He likes Tess Durbeyfield best． I've watched him every day and found it out．’ 
　　There was a thoughtful silence． 
　　‘How silly this all is！’said Izz impatiently． ‘He's a gentleman's son． He won't marry any of us or Tess either！’They all sighed， and crept into their beds， and fell asleep． But Tess， with her deeper feelings， could not sleep． She knew Angel Clare preferred her to the others． She was more attractive， better educated and more womanly． She could keep his affection for her． But should she？ Perhaps the others should have a chance of attracting his attention， and even of marrying him．She had heard from Mrs Crick that Mr Clare had spoken of marrying a country girl to help him farm， milk cows and reap corn．Tess had promised herself she would never marry and would never be tempted to do so． She ought to leave the field open for the other girls． 
　　Next morning Dairyman Crick sent all the dairy people out into a field to search for garlic plants． One bite by one cow was enough to make the whole day's butter taste of garlic．It was not by accident that Clare walked next to Tess． 
　　‘Don't they look pretty？’she said to him． 
　　‘Who？’ 
　　‘Izzy Huett and Retty．’She had decided that either would make a good farmer's wife． 
　　‘Pretty？ Well， yes， I have often thought so． 
　　‘They are excellent dairywomen． 
　　‘Yes，though not better than you．’Clare observed them． 
　　‘She is blushing，’continued Tess bravely，‘because you are looking at her．’She could hardly say‘Marry one of them if you really don't want a fine lady！ Don't think of marrying me！’From now on she tried to avoid spending time with Angel． She gave the other three every chance．  
　 
10 
　  
　　奶场主克里克坚持让所有奶场的工人每天挤不同的奶牛，而不是只挤他们最喜欢的那几头。他担心一旦哪个挤奶女工离开奶场后，她的奶牛会不喜欢被一个陌生人挤奶。然而，苔丝渐渐发现，分配给她的奶牛碰巧总是她最喜欢的几头。这让她挤起来更加轻松。但她很快发现这不是什么凑巧的事儿，因为是安吉尔·克莱尔分派待挤的奶牛。 
　　“克莱尔先生，你总是把我最喜欢的奶牛分给我！”一天早上，她红着脸指责他说。 
　　“啊，这不要紧，”他说，“你反正会总在这儿挤它们的。” 
　　“你这么以为吗？我希望如此，但我不知道。”说完之后，她对自己有些恼火。她刚才对他说话时太严肃了，好像把他牵扯进了她的去留问题。傍晚挤完奶后，她独自到园子里漫步，心里还想着这件事。 
　　这是6月间一个典型的夏日傍晚。空气柔和清新，四周静悄悄的，没有一丝声响。这份静谧被一阵竖琴声划破了。旋律在静止的空气中流动着，清晰有力。苔丝就像一只着了魔的鸟儿一般倾听着。她走近克莱尔，但克莱尔仍没注意到她。这时，苔丝心中已没有了时间和空间的感觉。这旋律流进了她的心田，流遍了她的全身，令她热泪盈眶。野花的各种色彩摇摆着，与音乐声的波动混合在一起。一曲终了，安吉尔看见了她。她脸刷地红了，赶紧走开了。 
　　“为什么要走开呢，苔丝？”他问，“是害怕吗？” 
　　“噢，不是的，先生，不是怕野外的东西。” 
　　“那么，是屋里的什么喽？” 
　　“嗯，是的，先生。” 
　　“概括地说，是人生？” 
　　“是的，先生。” 
　　“啊，我也害怕这个，常常害怕。生活是相当严酷的，你是不是这样认为？” 
　　“是吧，既然你这么说了。” 
　　“虽然如此，我还是没有料到一个像你这样的年轻姑娘会有这种感觉，为什么？来，跟我说说吧。” 
　　她踌躇了一会儿，回答道：“这些树都长着眼睛，它们用眼睛问问题，是不是？你仿佛看见许许多多的明天全都排成一行。最先的这个明天是最大、最清晰的，而后面的那些就变得越来越小了。但是，它们看起来都那么凶暴、残酷。不过你可以用你的音乐把所有这些想法都驱散，先生！” 
　　他吃惊地发现这个挤奶女工竟如此地愁绪满怀。她用自己的话表达着现代生活的痛苦。这种忧郁让他更加关注她了。他并不知道她的经历给予了她如此强烈的感受。而另一方面，苔丝也不明白为什么像他这样一个出身于宗教家庭、受过良好教育、经济独立的人会对生活感到不幸。像他这样令人羡慕、才华横溢的人，怎么可能与她在两三年前感觉的一样，情愿死去呢？他目前并没有生活在绅士们当中，这是事实，但是他正在学习他想要了解的知识，而且很快，他就会成为一个有钱的农场主的。正因为他们对彼此的内心世界都不了解，他们才都感到迷惑，并期待着进一步了解对方。 
　　起初，苔丝把安吉尔·克莱尔看成是智慧的化身，而不是一个凡人。当她发现自己的知识和他的相比存在着如此之大的差距时，她感到非常抑郁。有一天他问她，为什么她看起来闷闷不乐。 
　　“哦，这只是因为我感到自己一直在浪费自己的生命！当我了解到你所懂的知识，我觉得自己真是太渺小了！” 
　　“噢，亲爱的苔丝，”安吉尔充满热情地说道，“我非常乐意教你，比如说，历史……” 
　　“我不知道。学习又有什么用呢？我只不过是长长一列队伍中的一员，自己的过去和未来与成千上万个别人没有什么区别。但是有一件事我想要弄清楚——为什么太阳一视同仁地照在好人和坏人身上呢？”她说道，声音有些颤抖。 
　　“哦，苔丝，不要这么愤世嫉俗！”他自己过去对此也困惑不解过。但是当他看到她那天真无邪的嘴唇时，他认为这个大自然的纯洁的孩子只不过从别人那里得到了这个问题。在她的过去，是不可能有什么罪孽的。 
　　当他离开以后，苔丝又觉得自己在他面前一定表现得十分愚蠢可笑。她在考虑如果告诉他自己的德伯家血统，是否会赢得他的尊敬。她先到奶场主那儿打听克莱尔先生是否会对一个失去了财富和土地的古老家族有好感。 
　　“不，”克里克先生肯定地说，“他是一个叛逆者，他痛恨古老的家族。”听完这番对克莱尔的观点并不十分准确的见解，苔丝庆幸自己没有提起她的祖先们。 
　　那个夏天，苔丝和克莱尔都在无意中探究着对方，在感情的边缘徘徊，并试图避免陷入其中。但是在这整段时间里，他们就像山谷中的两条溪流，终究是要汇合在一起的。苔丝从来没有像现在这样快乐过，也许将来也不会再有。他们频频相会，一天不见面心里就受不了。每天凌晨3点钟，在开始挤奶之前，天还没有全亮呢，他们就在一起了。他们觉得自己是整个世界上起得最早的一对，就如同亚当和夏娃。在克莱尔眼里，苔丝就像一个王后，也许是因为他知道她是一天中在这个时候走动的最美丽的女人。漂亮可爱的女人在盛夏太阳初升时，通常还在睡觉。但是苔丝就在身边，其他人却了无影踪。在这种特别的光线中，她不再是一个挤奶女工，而是一个女人的幻象，她集所有女性气质于一身。 
　　一天，刚刚吃过早饭，他们都聚集到牛奶贮藏室里。牛奶倒进了黄油制造器，但是黄油却出不来。奶场主克里克很焦急。 
　　“也许房子里有人恋爱了。”他的妻子提示道，“这种事情有时会导致这种后果的。你还记得多年以前的那个女工吗？那一次黄油就出不来……” 
　　“哦，想起来了，但那不是恋爱。”克里克先生回答道。“那是把机器搞坏了。”他转向克莱尔讲起了这个故事。 
　　“我们的一个牛奶工，杰克·多洛，让一个女孩子出了麻烦。一天，姑娘的母亲手里拿着一把又大又重的雨伞找他来了。杰克就藏到黄油机里去了，但她发现了，就一圈一圈地转机器。‘停下，停下！’杰克哭叫道。‘如果你答应跟我女儿结婚的话！’母亲喊道。于是他跟她女儿结婚了。” 
　　苔丝面色惨白地走到了门口，她需要一些新鲜空气。幸好，黄油突然出来了。但是，那一下午苔丝都郁郁寡欢。对其他人来说，故事只是好笑而已，而她却独自体会到了其中的悲伤，这让她重新想起了她的遭遇。 
　　那晚，苔丝第一个上床睡觉了。当别的姑娘们在脱衣服时，她已经快要睡着了。她发现她们站在窗前，兴致勃勃地看着园子里的某个人。 
　　“蕾蒂·普里德尔，你爱上他也没有用，这一点跟我一样，”年龄最大的玛丽安说道。 
　　“他又来啦！”伊茨·休爱特叫道，她是一个皮肤白、头发黑的姑娘。 
　　“如果他向我求婚的话，我愿意明天就嫁给他。”玛丽安红着脸说道。 
　　“我也是，而且更愿意。”伊茨轻轻说道。 
　　“我也愿意，”蕾蒂羞涩地细声说。 
　　“我们不能都嫁给他。”伊茨说。 
　　“我们都不可能，”玛丽安说道，“他喜欢苔丝·德北。我一直天天观察他，我看出来的。” 
　　大家都默不作声地想着什么。 
　　“这一切都太可笑了！”伊茨忍不住说道，“他是个绅士的儿子，他是不会娶我们中间任何一个的，包括苔丝在内！”一阵叹息之后，她们都爬上床，睡着了。但是苔丝，怀着更深的感情，却无法入睡了。她知道，安吉尔·克莱尔喜欢她胜过其他姑娘。她更富有魅力，更有教养也更有女人味儿。她可以让他继续对她怀有爱慕之情。但是，她应该吗？也许其他人也应该有机会吸引他的注意，甚至与他结婚。她曾从克里克夫人那儿听说，克莱尔先生说起过要娶一个乡下姑娘帮他经营农场，挤牛奶、割庄稼什么的。苔丝曾向自己保证过，永远不结婚，也永远不被人引诱结婚。她应该敞开这块天地，把机会留给别的姑娘们。 
　　第二天早上，奶场主克里克派全奶场的人到地里寻找大蒜类的植物。只要有一头牛咬了一口这种东西，就足以使一天的黄油都带上一股蒜味。克莱尔走在苔丝的旁边，这绝非偶然。 
　　“她们看起来很漂亮，不是吗？”苔丝对他说。 
　　“谁？” 
　　“伊茨·休爱特和蕾蒂。”她觉得她们无论哪一个都能成为一名称职的农场主夫人。 
　　“你说漂亮？噢，是的，我一直这么觉得。” 
　　“她们是很出色的挤奶女工。” 
　　“是啊，尽管没有你出色。”克莱尔观察着她们。 
　　“她脸红了。”苔丝鼓足了勇气继续说道，“因为你在看着她。”她差点要说：“跟她们中的一个结婚吧，如果你真地不想娶一个高贵小姐的话！不要考虑跟我结婚！”从现在起，她就尽力避免和安吉尔在一起。她把每一个机会都留给了另外三个姑娘。 
　　　    


 