Tess of the D’Urbervilles. Томас Харди

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СКАЧАТЬ than the inner Necessity and Truth, I have done with him.’

      In the introductory words to the first edition I suggested the possible advent of the genteel person who would not be able to endure something or other in these pages. That person duly appeared among the aforesaid objectors. In one case he felt upset that it was not possible for him to read the book through three times, owing to my not having made that critical effort which ‘alone can prove the salvation of such an one.’ In another, he objected to such vulgar articles as the Devil’s pitchfork, a lodging-house carving-knife, and a shame-bought parasol, appearing in a respectable story. In another place he was a gentleman who turned Christian for half-an-hour the better to express his grief that a disrespectful phrase about the Immortals should have been used; though the same innate gentility compelled him to excuse the author in words of pity that one cannot be too thankful for: ‘He does but give us of his best.’ I can assure this great critic that to exclaim illogically against the gods, singular or plural, is not such an original sin of mine as he seems to imagine. True, it may have some local originality; though if Shakespeare were an authority on history, which perhaps he is not, I could show that the sin was introduced into Wessex as early as the Heptarchy itself. Says Glo’ster in Lear, otherwise Ina, king of that country:

      ‘As flies to wanton boys are we to the gods;

      They kill us for their sport.’

      The remaining two or three manipulators of Tess were of the predetermined sort whom most writers and readers would gladly forget; professed literary boxers, who put on their convictions for the occasion; modern ‘Hammers of Heretics’; sworn Discouragers, ever on the watch to prevent the tentative half success from becoming the whole success later on; who pervert plain meanings, and grow personal under the name of practising the great historical method. However, they may have causes to advance, privilege to guard, traditions to keep going; some of which a mere tale-teller, who writes down how the things of the world strike him, without any ulterior intentions whatever, has overlooked, and may by pure inadvertence have run foul of when in the least aggressive mood. Perhaps some passing perception, the outcome of a dream hour, would, if generally acted on, cause such an assailant considerable inconvenience with respect to position, interests, family, servant, ox, ass, neighbour, or neighbour’s wife. He therefore valiantly hides his personality behind a publisher’s shutters, and cries ‘Shame!’ So densely is the world thronged that any shifting of positions, even the best warranted advance, galls somebody’s kibe. Such shiftings often begin in sentiment, and such sentiment sometimes begins in a novel.

       July 1892

      The foregoing remarks were written during the early career of this story, when a spirited public and private criticism of its points was still fresh to the feelings. The pages are allowed to stand for what they are worth, as something once said; but probably they would not have been written now. Even in the short time which has elapsed since the book was first published, some of the critics who provoked the reply have ‘gone down into silence,’ as if to remind one of the infinite unimportance of both their say and mine.

      In the present edition it may be well to state, in response to inquiries from readers interested in landscape, prehistoric antiquities, and especially old English architecture, that the description of these backgrounds in this and its companion novels has been done from the real. Many features of the first two kinds have been given under their existing names; for instance, the Vale of Blackmoor or Blakemore, Hambledon Hill, Bulbarrow, Nettlecombe Tout, Dogbury Hill, High-Stoy, Bubb-Down Hill, The Devil’s Kitchen, Cross-in-Hand, Long-Ash Lane, Benvill Lane, Giant’s Hill, Crimmercrock Lane, and Stonehenge. The rivers Froom or Frome, and Stour, are, of course, well known as such. And in planning the stories the idea was that large towns and points tending to mark the outline of Wessex—such as Bath, Plymouth, The Start, Portland Bill, Southampton, &c—.should be named outright. The scheme was not greatly elaborated, but, whatever its value, the names remain still.

      In respect of places described under fictitious or ancient names—for reasons that seemed good at the time of writing—discerning persons have affirmed in print that they clearly recognize the originals: such as Shaftesbury in ‘Shaston,’ Sturminster Newton in ‘Stourcastle,’ Dorchester in ‘Casterbridge,’ Salisbury in ‘Melchester,’ Salisbury Plain in ‘The Great Plain,’ Cranborne in ‘Chaseborough,’ Cranborne Chase in ‘The Chase,’ Beaminster in ‘Emminster,’ Bere Regis in ‘Kingsbere,’ Woodbury Hill in ‘Greenhill,’ Wool Bridge in ‘Wellbridge,’ Hartfoot or Harput Lane in ‘Stagfoot Lane,’ Hazelbury in ‘Nuzzle-bury,’ Bridport in ‘Port-Bredy,’ Maiden Newton in ‘Chalk Newton,’ a farm near Nettlecombe Tout in ‘Flintcomb Ash,’ Sherborne in ‘Sherton Abbas,’ Milton Abbey in ‘Middleton Abbey,’ Cerne Abbas in ‘Abbot’s Cernel,’ Evershot in ‘Evershead,’ Tauton in ‘Toneborough,’ Bournemouth in ‘Sandbourne,’ Winchester in ‘Wintoncester,’ and so on. I shall not be the one to contradict them; I accept their statements as at least an indication of their real and kindly interest in the scenes.

       January 1895

      The present edition of this novel contains a few pages that have never appeared in any previous edition. When the detached episodes were collected as stated in the preface of 1891, these pages were overlooked, though they were in the original manuscript. They occur in Chapter X.

      Respecting the sub-title, to which allusion was made above, I may add that it was appended at the last moment, after reading the final proofs, as being the estimate left in a candid mind of the heroine’s character—an estimate that nobody would be likely to dispute. It was disputed more than anything else in the book. Melius fuerat nonscribere. But there it stands.

      The novel was first published complete, in three volumes, in November 1891.

      T. H., March 1912

PHASE THE FIRST

       CHAPTER 1

      On an evening in the latter part of May a middle-aged man was walking homeward from Shaston to the village of Marlott, in the adjoining Vale of Blakemore or Blackmoor. The pair of legs that carried him were rickety, and there was a bias in his gait which inclined him somewhat to the left of a straight line. He occasionally gave a smart nod, as if in confirmation of some opinion, though he was not thinking of anything in particular. An empty egg-basket was slung upon his arm, the nap of his hat was ruffled, a patch being quite worn away at its brim where his thumb came in taking it off. Presently he was met by an elderly parson astride on a gray mare, who, as he rode, hummed a wandering tune.

      ‘Good night, t’ee,’ said the man with the basket.

      ‘Good night, Sir John,’ said the parson.

      The pedestrian, after another pace or two, halted, and turned round.

      ‘Now, sir, begging your pardon; we met last market-day on this road about this time, and I said “Good night,” and you made reply “Good night, Sir John,” as now.

      ‘I did,’ said the parson.

      ‘And once before that—near a month ago.’

      ‘I may have.’

      ‘Then what might your meaning be in calling me “Sir John” these different times, when I be plain Jack Durbeyfield, СКАЧАТЬ