当晚他一个人出门，在黑地里走来走去，自思自量。他很清楚，太清楚了，他脑子里有个难以告人的秘密：按妇道人家的标准，阿拉贝拉实在不够格。话又说回来，在乡下这地方，讲体面的小伙子中间素来是约定俗成：他要是稀里糊涂跟个女人打得火热，就像他不幸于出来的那样，就得说话算数，得承担后果。为了让自己心里舒坦点，他老是把她往好里想。有时候，他说得简单明了，他心目中的她只能算是个势所必至、理有固然的结果，倒不是因为阿拉贝拉之为阿拉贝拉。
到下个礼拜天，他们的结婚预告就公之于众了。教区里的人，个个说年轻的福来算得上头脑简单的二百五。他念了那么多书算白念啦。快把书卖了，买锅盘碗灶吧。那些大致猜出来个中奥妙的人，其中也有阿拉贝拉的爹妈，都声言像裘德那样老老实实的小伙子，他们料得到会有那样的举动，因为那就把他对不起自己那位清白无辜的心上人的事全都补救过来了。
于是他们俩站在上面说的结婚仪式的主持人面前起誓：有生之日，不论何时，他们必将一如既往几个礼拜那样终生厮守、信赖。体贴、期望，永不变心。这一套总算够怪了，可更怪的是，对于他们起的这个誓，哪个人也不觉得有什么怪。
福来的开面包房的姑婆，给他做了块喜庆蛋糕，深恶痛绝地说，她再也不会替那个可怜的蠢驴办什么事啦；要是他当初老早跟他爹娘到了阴曹地府，没叫他活着骚扰她，那真是谢天谢地啦。阿拉贝拉把蛋糕切下来几块，拿自便条纸包上，送给跟她一块儿加工猪肉的伙伴安妮和萨拉，每包上面都贴着条子：“承蒙指教，永志不忘。”
就是看事最乐观的人对新婚夫妇的前景也觉着确实不大妙。他是个石匠的学徒，十九岁，满师前拿半份工钱。妻子住在镇上，没事可干。他起初还认为他们非住在镇上不可，但是增加一向微薄的收入既然成了迫切需要，也就逼得他只好在栋房子和马利格林之间路边一个僻静地方租了间草房，这样他可以靠种菜得点收益，她的养猪的经验也可以派得上用场。不过这可不是他原来指望的那种生活啊。他每天来回一趟阿尔夫瑞顿，路挺长。阿拉贝拉呢，似乎觉得这不过一时权宜之计；反正她已经丈夫到了手；这才是真格的——一个具备赚钱能力、能给她买衣服买帽子的丈夫。到时候，他必定开始觉着有点顶不下去了，自然会紧守着他那个行当，把那些胡说八道的书本都扔到一边，脚踏实地担当起养家糊口的营生。
这样，结婚当晚，他就把她带到那个草房，舍掉了姑婆家那间老屋子——他以前在那儿为学希腊文和拉丁文下过多少苦功啊。
她刚头一回脱下长袍，他就浑身起了鸡皮疙疽。阿拉贝拉本来在后脑勺上绾了老大一个髻，这时候她把它仔仔细细解开了，随着把一大绺头发捋下来，挂在了裘德给她买的穿衣镜上。
“怎么——那不是你自个儿的头发？”他说，突然起了一种厌恶感。
“不是哟——这年头凡是像样的人，哪个不用假发啊。”
“胡说。就是城里头也不一定谁都这样，乡里更是另一码事啦。再说，你头发本来挺厚嘛，不错吧？”
“对呀，要按乡下人眼光，是够厚的，可是城里头男人喜欢头发更厚呢，我在奥尔布里肯酒吧当招待时候——”
“在奥尔布里肯酒吧当招待？”
“也不算真正的酒吧女招待——我从前在那儿一家酒馆倒过酒，这也没几天；就是这么回事儿。有人劝我买假发，我觉着挺好玩儿，也就买了。在奥尔布里肯，你头发越多越好。就算把你的七七八八的基督堂全加到一块儿，也还跟不上它漂亮呢。那儿有身份的太太个个戴假发——理发师傅的伙计跟我说的。”
裘德觉着恶心，因为他想到就算她说的有几分是真，但是，就他平日见闻而言，有好多纯朴的姑娘想去、也去过城市，甚至还在那儿呆上好多年，可是她们的生活和衣饰依然简单朴素。也有些，唉，她们的血液里天生一股子装模作样的本能，只要瞧上一眼，就把弄虚做假学会了，学得还挺到家。话又得说回来，妇道人家添点假发，也算不上了不起的罪过呀，他拿定主意不往下想了。
大凡刚当上妻子的女人总有办法在头几个礼拜诱发人家的兴趣，哪怕日后居家过日子，琐琐碎碎弄得减色也不碍事。她这样的身份，以及她因为自觉到这样的身份而拿出来的对熟人周旋的态度，自有一种刺激意味，既把没有光彩的现实遮掩起来，甚至还能帮顶卑下的新娘暂时摆脱她的实际地位。有一天正逢集市，裘德•福来太太就满身这种气味，在阿尔夫瑞顿街上行走，猛孤丁碰上她的老朋友安妮，阿拉贝拉婚后一直没见过她。
她们照例一见面不说话，先笑一阵，就像她们用不着说，这个世界也老是逗乐的。
“这么说，那个计划还真顶用啊，有你的！”姑娘对太太说。“我就知道那一手对他管用。他可是讨人疼的好汉子，你可得拿他当回事哟。”
“我是这样。”福来太太不动声色地说。
“你什么时候——？”
“嘘！生不了啦！”
“什么！”
“我搞错啦。”
“哎，阿拉贝拉呀，阿拉贝拉；你可真有一套啊！搞错啦，嗨，真精哪——这一手可真叫绝啦！就凭我这两下子经验，我可再想不出来呀！再想不到干起来用不着真刀真枪——想不到也能玩假情假义呀！”
“你先别忙着叫这是假情假义！这可不是假情假义。我当时可没往这上边想。”
“我说——他可不会老蒙在鼓里头！逢礼拜六晚上他叫你有好受的呢！不管怎么着，他要说你这是拿他要着玩儿——干脆是两面三刀，嘿嘿！”
“说我拿他要着玩，那还可以，可决不是两面三刀。……呸——他才不在乎呢，我说我当时说错了，他还要高兴呢。慢慢地他就没事儿啦。为他祝福吧——男人还不都是一个样儿。不这样，又能怎么办？反正是结了婚，生米做成熟饭啦。”
说是这么说，临到她非把原来闹得人仰马翻、可又莫须有的把戏坦白不可的时刻，她还是心里有点七上八下。她选的时间是一个晚上要上床睡觉时候，地点是他们路边上孤零零的房子里的卧室。裘德每天下工都是走回家，这天他整整劳累了十二个钟头，在他妻子之前先歇了。她进屋时候，他已经似睡非睡，迷迷糊糊，不大觉着她就在穿衣镜前面脱衣服。
可是她有个动作却叫他完全醒过来了。她坐在那儿，镜子里的影子正对着他，他看得很清楚，她正把两个腮帮子一咋一咋的，用人工制造酒涡来过痛，这可是她的拿手好戏，令人称奇。他好像头一回觉察到她脸上的酒涡比他们认识头几个礼拜时候出现得少而又少了。
“别搞啦，阿拉贝拉！”他突然说话了。“这样不碍事，可我不爱瞧你这样。”
她脸转过来，笑起来了。“哎呀，我不知道你醒着哪，”她说，“你可太土嘤！这有什么关系呢。”
“你哪儿学来的？”
“我可没学过。我在酒馆那阵子，酒涡一天到晚都在脸上，这会儿倒不行啦。我那会儿脸胖点儿。”
“我倒不在乎酒涡不酒涡。依我看，它帮不了女人什么忙，能叫她漂亮点——特别是成了家的女人，别说长得像你这么丰满啦。”
“大多数男人想法跟你可不一样。”
“我可不管大多数男人怎么个想法，那随他们便。你怎么知道他们怎么想的？”
“我在酒馆帮工时候听人家说的。”
“是咬——那就难怪喽，那个礼拜六晚上咱们喝啤酒，你凭酒馆经验一咂就知道搀假了。我没跟你结婚时候，我一直当你没离开过你爸爸家呢。”
“你本来应该多知道点才对呢，本来应该看得出来，我要是打一下地就窝在家里头，才不会这么大方呢。家里头没什么事，我又不能一天到晚呆着不动，这才跑到外边干了三个月。”
“从这会儿起，你的事情就有得干啦，亲爱的，对不对？”
“你这是什么意思？”
“海海，就是这样啊——芝麻绿豆的事儿多着哪。”
“哦
“倒是什么时候呀？你好不好说个准日子，别老是含含糊糊，不着天不着地的？”
“要说吗？”
“对，要说——准日子。”
“没什么好说的。我全搞错啦。”
“什么？”
“搞错啦。”
他一下子在床上坐直了，两眼直勾勾地对着她。“怎么搞错啦？”
“女人家有时候胡思乱想，一厢情愿，就出了错啦。”
“可是——！唉，当然喷，当然喷，想当初我心理上没一点准备，连条家具腿也没有，简直是一文不名，要不是你跟我说了那个信儿，我觉着非救你不可，我哪儿会不管三七二十一把咱们的事儿办了，把你带到这么个半边空的房子来啊，……老天爷哟，苦哇！”
“你难受吧，亲爱的。事到如今就算啦，反正木已成舟啦。”
“我没得说哟！”
他就回答了这么一句，又躺下来，两个人没再说话。
第二天早上，他一觉醒来，似乎看这个世界的眼光跟以前不同了。至于成问题的那件事，他也无可奈何，只好听她说的那一套。既然是流俗的观点为一般人接受，他也没法自行其是，置之不理。话说回来，流俗的观点又怎么会深入人心呢？
他隐隐感到，又没想清楚，社会上通行的礼俗准有点不对头的地方。一个人不过是因为一种新的本能的一时冲动，造成了一念之差，而那种本能并不具有一丝一毫邪恶性质，充其极只能说它是意志薄弱；可是礼俗就根据这一点硬要叫他把花费多年思考和勤劳而订立的完善计划，为争取显示自己优于低等动物的机会而做的努力和为自己这一代的普遍进步献出劳作成果的心愿，通通葬送，才肯罢休。他止不住一再追问，就为了那件事，他到底干犯了哪门子天条，她又到底受了什么损害，以至于他罪有应得，把他打进了陷阱，弄得他的大后半辈子，且不说她的，落个终身残废？还好，他当初结婚的直接原因总算证明子虚乌有了，也该说是走了运吧。可是婚姻到底还是婚姻，怎么也变不了啊。
Part 1 Chapter 10
THE time arrived for killing the pig which Jude and his wife had fattened in their sty during the autumn months, and the butchering was timed to take place as soon as it was light in the morning, so that Jude might get to Alfredston without losing more than a quarter of a day.
The night had seemed strangely silent. Jude looked out of the window long before dawn, and perceived that the ground was covered with snow-- snow rather deep for the season, it seemed, a few flakes still falling.
"I'm afraid the pig-killer won't be able to come," he said to Arabella.
"Oh, he'll come. You must get up and make the water hot, if you want Challow to scald him. Though I like singeing best."
"I'll get up," said Jude. "I like the way of my own county."
He went downstairs, lit the fire under the copper, and began feeding it with bean-stalks, all the time without a candle, the blaze flinging a cheerful shine into the room; though for him the sense of cheerfulness was lessened by thoughts on the reason of that blaze--to heat water to scald the bristles from the body of an animal that as yet lived, and whose voice could be continually heard from a corner of the garden. At half-past six, the time of appointment with the butcher, the water boiled, and Jude's wife came downstairs.
"Is Challow come?" she asked.
"No."
They waited, and it grew lighter, with the dreary light of a snowy dawn. She went out, gazed along the road, and returning said, "He's not coming. Drunk last night, I expect. The snow is not enough to hinder him, surely!"
"Then we must put it off. It is only the water boiled for nothing. The snow may be deep in the valley."
"Can't be put off. There's no more victuals for the pig. He ate the last mixing o' barleymeal yesterday morning."
"Yesterday morning? What has he lived on since?"
"Nothing."
"What--he has been starving?"
"Yes. We always do it the last day or two, to save bother with the innerds. What ignorance, not to know that!"
"That accounts for his crying so. Poor creature!"
"Well--you must do the sticking--there's no help for it. I'll show you how. Or I'll do it myself--I think I could. Though as it is such a big pig I had rather Challow had done it. However, his basket o' knives and things have been already sent on here, and we can use 'em."
"Of course you shan't do it," said Jude. "I'll do it, since it must be done."
He went out to the sty, shovelled away the snow for the space of a couple of yards or more, and placed the stool in front, with the knives and ropes at hand. A robin peered down at the preparations from the nearest tree, and, not liking the sinister look of the scene, flew away, though hungry. By this time Arabella had joined her husband, and Jude, rope in hand, got into the sty, and noosed the affrighted animal, who, beginning with a squeak of surprise, rose to repeated cries of rage. Arabella opened the sty-door, and together they hoisted the victim on to the stool, legs upward, and while Jude held him Arabella bound him down, looping the cord over his legs to keep him from struggling.
The animal's note changed its quality. It was not now rage, but the cry of despair; long-drawn, slow and hopeless.
"Upon my soul I would sooner have gone without the pig than have had this to do!" said Jude. "A creature I have fed with my own hands."
"Don't be such a tender-hearted fool! There's the sticking-knife-- the one with the point. Now whatever you do, don't stick un too deep."
"I'll stick him effectually, so as to make short work of it. That's the chief thing."
"You must not!" she cried. "The meat must be well bled, and to do that he must die slow. We shall lose a shilling a score if the meat is red and bloody! Just touch the vein, that's all. I was brought up to it, and I know. Every good butcher keeps un bleeding long. He ought to be eight or ten minutes dying, at least."
"He shall not be half a minute if I can help it, however the meat may look," said Jude determinedly. Scraping the bristles from the pig's upturned throat, as he had seen the butchers do, he slit the fat; then plunged in the knife with all his might.
"'Od damn it all!" she cried, "that ever I should say it! You've over-stuck un! And I telling you all the time----"
"Do be quiet, Arabella, and have a little pity on the creature!"
"Hold up the pail to catch the blood, and don't talk!"
However unworkmanlike the deed, it had been mercifully done. The blood flowed out in a torrent instead of in the trickling stream she had desired. The dying animal's cry assumed its third and final tone, the shriek of agony; his glazing eyes riveting themselves on Arabella with the eloquently keen reproach of a creature recognizing at last the treachery of those who had seemed his only friends.
"Make un stop that!" said Arabella. "Such a noise will bring somebody or other up here, and I don't want people to know we are doing it ourselves." Picking up the knife from the ground whereon Jude had flung it, she slipped it into the gash, and slit the windpipe. The pig was instantly silent, his dying breath coming through the hole
"That's better," she said.
"It is a hateful business!" said he.
"Pigs must be killed."
The animal heaved in a final convulsion, and, despite the rope, kicked out with all his last strength. A tablespoonful of black clot came forth, the trickling of red blood having ceased for some seconds.
"That's it; now he'll go," said she. "Artful creatures-- they always keep back a drop like that as long as they can!"
The last plunge had come so unexpectedly as to make Jude stagger, and in recovering himself he kicked over the vessel in which the blood had been caught.
"There!" she cried, thoroughly in a passion. "Now I can't make any blackpot. There's a waste, all through you!"
Jude put the pail upright, but only about a third of the whole steaming liquid was left in it, the main part being splashed over the snow, and forming a dismal, sordid, ugly spectacle-- to those who saw it as other than an ordinary obtaining of meat. The lips and nostrils of the animal turned livid, then white, and the muscles of his limbs relaxed.
"Thank God!" Jude said. "He's dead."
"What's God got to do with such a messy job as a pig-killing, I should like to know!" she said scornfully. "Poor folks must live."
"I know, I know," said he. "I don't scold you."
Suddenly they became aware of a voice at hand.
"Well done, young married volk! I couldn't have carried it out much better myself, cuss me if I could!" The voice, which was husky, came from the garden-gate, and looking up from the scene of slaughter they saw the burly form of Mr. Challow leaning over the gate, critically surveying their performance.
"'Tis well for 'ee to stand there and glane!" said Arabella. "Owing to your being late the meat is blooded and half spoiled! 'Twon't fetch so much by a shilling a score!"
Challow expressed his contrition. "You should have waited a bit" he said, shaking his head, "and not have done this-- in the delicate state, too, that you be in at present, ma'am. 'Tis risking yourself too much."
"You needn't be concerned about that," said Arabella, laughing. Jude too laughed, but there was a strong flavour of bitterness in his amusement.
Challow made up for his neglect of the killing by zeal in the scalding and scraping. Jude felt dissatisfied with himself as a man at what he had done, though aware of his lack of common sense, and that the deed would have amounted to the same thing if carried out by deputy. The white snow, stained with the blood of his fellow-mortal, wore an illogical look to him as a lover of justice, not to say a Christian; but he could not see how the matter was to be mended. No doubt he was, as his wife had called him, a tender-hearted fool.
He did not like the road to Alfredston now. It stared him cynically in the face. The wayside objects reminded him so much of his courtship of his wife that, to keep them out of his eyes, he read whenever he could as he walked to and from his work. Yet he sometimes felt that by caring for books he was not escaping common-place nor gaining rare ideas, every working-man being of that taste now. When passing near the spot by the stream on which he had first made her acquaintance he one day heard voices just as he had done at that earlier time. One of the girls who had been Arabella's companions was talking to a friend in a shed, himself being the subject of discourse, possibly because they had seen him in the distance. They were quite unaware that the shed-walls were so thin that he could hear their words as he passed.
"Howsomever, 'twas I put her up to it! 'Nothing venture nothing have,' I said. If I hadn't she'd no more have been his mis'ess than I."
"'Tis my belief she knew there was nothing the matter when she told him she was ..."
What had Arabella been put up to by this woman, so that he should make her his "mis'ess," otherwise wife? The suggestion was horridly unpleasant, and it rankled in his mind so much that instead of entering his own cottage when he reached it he flung his basket inside the garden-gate and passed on, determined to go and see his old aunt and get some supper there.
This made his arrival home rather late. Arabella however, was busy melting down lard from fat of the deceased pig, for she had been out on a jaunt all day, and so delayed her work. Dreading lest what he had heard should lead him to say something regrettable to her he spoke little. But Arabella was very talkative, and said among other things that she wanted some money. Seeing the book sticking out of his pocket she added that he ought to earn more.
"An apprentice's wages are not meant to be enough to keep a wife on, as a rule, my dear."
"Then you shouldn't have had one."
"Come, Arabella! That's too bad, when you know how it came about."
"I'll declare afore Heaven that I thought what I told you was true. Doctor Vilbert thought so. It was a good job for you that it wasn't so!"
"I don't mean that," he said hastily. "I mean before that time. I know it was not your fault; but those women friends of yours gave you bad advice. If they hadn't, or you hadn't taken it, we should at this moment have been free from a bond which, not to mince matters, galls both of us devilishly. It may be very sad, but it is true."
