The room below being unceiled she could hear most of what went on there. Presently
her father entered, apparently carrying in a live hen. He was a foot-haggler now,
having been obliged to sell his second horse, and he travelled with his basket on
his arm. The hen had been carried about this morning as it was often carried, to
show people that he was in his work, though it had lain, with its legs tied, under
the table at Rolliver's for more than an hour.
''We've just had up a story about-'' Durbeyfield began, and thereupon related
in detail to his wife a discussion which had arisen at the inn about the clergy,
originated by the fact of his daughter having married into a clerical family. ''They
was formerly styled 'sir', like my own ancestry,'' he said, ''though nowadays their
true style, strictly speaking, is 'clerk' only.'' As Tess had wished that no great
publicity should be given to the event, he had mentioned no particulars. He hoped
she would remove that prohibition soon. He proposed that the couple should take
Tess's own name, d'Urberville, as uncorrupted. It was better than her husbands's.
He asked if any letter had come from her that day.
Then Mrs Durbeyfield informed him that no letter had come, but Tess unfortunately
had come herself.
When at length the collapse was explained to him a sullen mortification, not
usual with Durbeyfield, overpowered the influence of the cheering glass. Yet the
intrinsic quality of the event moved his touchy sensitiveness less than its conjectured
effect upon the minds of others.
''To think, now, that this was to be the end o't!'' said Sir John. ''And I with
a family vault under that there church of Kingsbere as big as Squire Jollard's ale-cellar,
and my folk lying there in sixes and sevens, as genuine county bones and marrow
as any recorded in history. And now to be sure what they fellers at Rolliver's and
The Pure Drop will say to me! How they'll squint and glane, and say, 'This is yer
mighty match is it; this is yer getting back to the true level of yer forefathers
in King Norman's time!' I feel this is too much, Joan; I shall put an end to myself,
title and all-I can bear it no longer! Е But she can make him keep her if he's married
''Why, yes. But she won't think o' doing that.''
''D'ye think he really have married her?-or is it like the first-''
Poor Tess, who had heard as far as this, could not bear to hear more. The perception
that her word could be doubted even here, in her own parental house, set her mind
against the spot as nothing else could have done. How unexpected were the attacks
of destiny! And if her father doubted her a little, would not neighbours and acquaintance
doubt her much? O, she could not live long at home!
A few days, accordingly, were all that she allowed herself here, at the end of
which time she received a short note from Clare, informing her that he had gone
to the North of England to look at a farm. In her craving for the lustre of her
true position as his wife, and to hide from her parents the vast extent of the division
between them, she made use of this letter as her reason for again departing, leaving
them under the impression that she was setting out to join him. Still further to
screen her husband from any imputation on unkindness to her, she took twenty-five
of the fifty pounds Clare had given her, and handed the sum over to her mother,
as if the wife of a man like Angel Clare could well afford it, saying that it was
a slight return for the trouble and humiliation she had brought upon them in years
past. With this assertion of her dignity she bade them farewell; and after that
there were lively doing in the Durbeyfield household for some time on the strength
of Tess's bounty, her mother saying, and, indeed, believing, that the rupture which
had arisen between the young husband and wife had adjusted itself under their strong
feeling that they could not live apart from each other.
It was three weeks after the marriage that Clare found himself descending the hill
which led to the well-known parsonage of his father. With his downward course the
tower of the church rose into the evening sky in a manner of inquiry as to why he
had come; and no living person in the twilighted town seemed to notice him, still
less to expect him. He was arriving like a ghost, and the sound of his own footsteps
was almost an encumbrance to be got rid of.
The picture of life had changed for him. Before this time he had known it but
speculatively; now he thought he knew it as a practical man; though perhaps he did
not, even yet. Nevertheless humanity stood before him no longer in the pensive sweetness
of Italian art, but in the staring and ghastly attitudes of a Wiertz Museum, and
with the leer of a study by Van Beers.
His conduct during these first weeks had been desultory beyond description. After
mechanically attempting to pursue his agricultural plans as though nothing unusual
had happened, in the manner recommended by the great and wise men of all ages, he
concluded that very few of those great and wise men had ever gone so far outside
themselves as to test the feasibility of their counsel. ''This is the chief thing:
be not perturbed,'' said the Pagan moralist. That was just Clare's own opinion.
But he was perturbed. ''Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid,''
said the Nazarene. Clare chimed in cordially; but his heart was troubled all the
same. How he would have liked to confront those two great thinkers, and earnestly
appeal to them as fellow-man to fellow-men, and ask them to tell him their method!
His mood transmuted itself into a dogged indifference till at length he fancied
he was looking on his own existence with the passive interest of an outsider.
He was embittered by the conviction that all this desolation had been brought
about by the accident of her being a d'Urberville. When he found that Tess came
of that exhausted ancient line, and was not of the new tribes from below, as he
had fondly dreamed, why had he not stoically abandoned her, in fidelity to his principles?
This was what he had got by apostasy, and his punishment was deserved.
Then he became weary and anxious, and his anxiety increased. He wondered if he
had treated her unfairly. He ate without knowing that he ate, and drank without
tasting. As the hours dropped past, as the motive of each act in the long series
of bygone days presented itself to his view, he perceived how intimately the notion
of having Tess as a dear possession was mixed up with all his schemes and words
In going hither and thither he observed in the outskirts of a small town a red-and-blue
placard setting forth the great advantages of the Empire of Brazil as a field for
the emigrating agriculturist. Land was offered there on exceptionally advantageous
terms. Brazil somewhat attracted him as a new idea. Tess could eventually join him
there, and perhaps in that country of contrasting scenes and notions and habits
the conventions would not be so operative which made life with her seem impracticable
to him here. In brief he was strongly inclined to try Brazil, especially as the
season for going thither was just at hand.
With this view he was returning to Emminster to disclose his plan to his parents,
and to make the best explanation he could make of arriving without Tess, short of
revealing what had actually separated them. As he reached the door the new moon
shone upon his face, just as the old one had done in the small hours of that morning
when he had carried his wife in his arms across the river to the graveyard of the
monks; but his face was thinner now.
Clare had given his parents no warning of his visit, and his arrival stirred
the atmosphere of the Vicarage as the dive of the kingfisher stirs a quiet pool.
His father and mother were both in the drawing-room, but neither of his brothers
was now at home. Angel entered, and closed the door quietly behind him.
''But-where's your wife, dear Angel?'' cried his mother. ''How you surprise us!''
''She is at her mother's-temporarily. I have come home rather in a hurry because
I've decided to go to Brazil.''
''Brazil! Why they are all Roman Catholics there surely!''
''Are they? I hadn't thought of that.''
But even the novelty and painfulness of his going to a Papistical land could
no displace for long Mr and Mrs Clare's natural interest in their son's marriage.
''We had your brief note three weeks ago announcing that it had taken place,''
said Mrs Clare, ''and your father sent your godmother's gift to her, as you know.
Of course it was best that none of us should be present, especially as you preferred
to marry her from the dairy, and not at her home, wherever that may be. It would
have embarrassed you, and given us no pleasure. Your bothers felt that very strongly.
Now it is done we do not complain, particularly if she suits you for the business
you have chosen to follow instead of the ministry of the Gospel. Е Yet I wish I
could have seen her first, Angel, or have known a little more about her. We sent
her no present of our own, not knowing what would best give her pleasure, but you
must suppose it only delayed. Angel, there is no irritation in my mind or your father's
against you for this marriage; but we have thought it much better to reserve our
liking for your wife till we could see her. And now you have not brought her. It
seems strange. What had happened?''
He replied that it had been thought best by them that she should to go her parents'
home for the present, whilst he came there.
''I don't mind telling you, dear mother,'' he said, ''that I always meant to
keep her away from this house till I should feel she could some with credit to you.
But this idea of Brazil is quite a recent one. If I do go it will be unadvisable
for me to take her on this my first journey. She will remain at her mother's till
I come back.''
''And I shall not see her before you start?''
He was afraid they would not. His original plan had been, as he had said, to
refrain from bringing her there for some little while-not to wound their prejudices-feelings-in
any way; and for other reasons he had adhered to it. He would have to visit home
in the course of a year, if he went out at once; and it would be possible for them
to see her before he started a second time-with her.
A hastily prepared supper was brought in, and Clare made further exposition of
his plans. His mother's disappointment at not seeing the bride still remained with
her. Clare's late enthusiasm for Tess had infected her through her maternal sympathies,
till she had almost fancied that a good thing could come out of Nazareth-a charming
woman out of Talbothays Dairy. She watched her son as he ate.
''Cannot you describe her? I am sure she is very pretty, Angel.''
''Of that there can be no question!'' he said, with a zest which covered its
''And that she is pure and virtuous goes without question?''
''Pure and virtuous, of course, she is.''
''I can see her quite distinctly. You said the other day that she was fine in
figure; roundly built; had deep red lips like Cupid's bow; dark eyelashes and brows,
an immense rope of hair like a ship's cable; and large eyes violety-bluey-blackish.''
''I did, mother.''
''I quite see her. And living in such seclusion she naturally had scarce ever
seen any young man from the world without till she saw you.''
''You were her first love?''
''There are worse wives than these simple, rosy-mouthed, robust girls of the
farm. Certainly I could have wished-well, since my son is to be an agriculturist,
it is perhaps but proper that his wife should have been accustomed to an outdoor
His father was less inquisitive; but when the time came for the chapter from
the Bible which was always read before evening prayers, the Vicar observed to Mrs
''I think, since Angel has come, that it will be more appropriate to read the
thirty-first of Proverbs than the chapter which we should have had in the usual
course of our reading?''
''Yes, certainly,'' said Mrs Clare. ''The words of King Lemuel'' (she could cite
chapter and verse as well as her husband). ''My dear son, your father has decided
to read us the chapter in Proverbs in praise of a virtuous wife. We shall not need
to be reminded to apply the words to the absent one. May Heaven shield her in all
A lump rose in Clare's throat. The portable lectern was taken out from the corner
and set in the middle of the fireplace, the two old servants came in, and Angel's
father began to read at the tenth verse of the aforesaid chapter-
'''Who can find a virtuous woman? for her price is far above rubies. She riseth
while it is yet night, and giveth meat to her household. She girdeth her loins with
strength and strengtheneth her arms. She perceiveth that her merchandise is good;
her candle goeth not out by night. She looketh well to the ways of her household,
and eateth not the bread of idleness. Her children arise up and call her blessed;
her husband also, and he praiseth her. Many daughters have done virtuously, but
thou excellest them all.'''
When prayers were over, his mother said-
''I could not help thinking how very aptly that chapter your dear father read
applied, in some of its particulars, to the woman you have chosen. The perfect woman,
you see, was a working woman; not an idler; not a fine lady; but one who used her
hands and her head and her heart for the good of others. 'Her children arise up
and call her blessed; her husband also, and he praiseth her. Many daughters have
done virtuously, but she excelleth them all.' Well, I wish I could have seen her,
Angel. Since she is pure and chaste she would have been refined enough for me.''