"It is," said Jude solemnly. "Absolutely. So help me God!"
The schoolmaster rose. Each of the twain felt that the interview could not comfortably merge in a friendly discussion of their recent experiences, after the manner of friends; and when Jude had taken him round, and shown him some features of the renovation which the old cathedral was undergoing, Phillotson bade the young man good-day and went away.
This visit took place about eleven o'clock in the morning; but no Sue appeared. When Jude went to his dinner at one he saw his beloved ahead of him in the street leading up from the North Gate, walking as if no way looking for him. Speedily overtaking her he remarked that he had asked her to come to him at the cathedral, and she had promised.
"I have been to get my things from the college," she said-- an observation which he was expected to take as an answer, though it was not one. Finding her to be in this evasive mood he felt inclined to give her the information so long withheld.
"You have not seen Mr. Phillotson to-day?" he ventured to inquire.
"I have not. But I am not going to be cross-examined about him; and if you ask anything more I won't answer!"
"It is very odd that--" He stopped, regarding her.
"What?"
"That you are often not so nice in your real presence as you are in your letters!"
"Does it really seem so to you?" said she, smiling with quick curiosity. "Well, that's strange; but I feel just the same about you, Jude. When you are gone away I seem such a coldhearted----"
As she knew his sentiment towards her Jude saw that they were getting upon dangerous ground. It was now, he thought, that he must speak as an honest man.
But he did not speak, and she continued: "It was that which made me write and say--I didn't mind your loving me--if you wanted to, much!"
The exultation he might have felt at what that implied, or seemed to imply, was nullified by his intention, and he rested rigid till he began: "I have never told you----"
"Yes you have," murmured she.
"I mean, I have never told you my history--all of it."
"But I guess it. l know nearly."
Jude looked up. Could she possibly know of that morning performance of his with Arabella; which in a few months had ceased to be a marriage more completely than by death? He saw that she did not.
"I can't quite tell you here in the street," he went on with a gloomy tongue. "And you had better not come to my lodgings. Let us go in here."
The building by which they stood was the market-house, it was the only place available; and they entered, the market being over, and the stalls and areas empty. He would have preferred a more congenial spot, but, as usually happens, in place of a romantic field or solemn aisle for his tale, it was told while they walked up and down over a floor littered with rotten cabbage-leaves, and amid all the usual squalors of decayed vegetable matter and unsaleable refuse. He began and finished his brief narrative, which merely led up to the information that he had married a wife some years earlier, and that his wife was living still. Almost before her countenance had time to change she hurried out the words,
"Why didn't you tell me before!"
"I couldn't. It seemed so cruel to tell it."
"To yourself, Jude. So it was better to be cruel to me!"
"No, dear darling!" cried Jude passionately. He tried to take her hand, but she withdrew it. Their old relations of confidence seemed suddenly to have ended, and the antagonisms of sex to sex were left without any counter-poising predilections. She was his comrade, friend, unconscious sweetheart no longer; and her eyes regarded him in estranged silence.
"I was ashamed of the episode in my life which brought about the marriage," he continued. "I can't explain it precisely now. I could have done it if you had taken it differently!"
"But how can I?" she burst out. "Here I have been saying, or writing, that-- that you might love me, or something of the sort!--just out of charity-- and all the time--oh, it is perfectly damnable how things are!" she said, stamping her foot in a nervous quiver.
"You take me wrong, Sue! I never thought you cared for me at all, till quite lately; so I felt it did not matter! Do you care for me, Sue?--you know how I mean?--I don't like 'out of charity' at all!"
It was a question which in the circumstances Sue did not choose to answer.
"I suppose she--your wife--is--a very pretty woman even if she's wicked?" she asked quickly.
"She's pretty enough, as far as that goes."
"Prettier than I am, no doubt!"
"You are not the least alike. And I have never seen her for years.... But she's sure to come back--they always do!"
"How strange of you to stay apart from her like this!" said Sue, her trembling lip and lumpy throat belying her irony. "You, such a religious man. How will the demi-gods in your Pantheon--I mean those legendary persons you call saints-- intercede for you after this? Now if I had done such a thing it would have been different, and not remarkable, for I at least don't regard marriage as a sacrament. Your theories are not so advanced as your practice!"
"Sue, you are terribly cutting when you like to be--a perfect Voltaire! But you must treat me as you will!"
When she saw how wretched he was she softened, and trying to blink away her sympathetic tears said with all the winning reproachfulness of a heart-hurt woman: "Ah--you should have told me before you gave me that idea that you wanted to be allowed to love me! I had no feeling before that moment at the railway-station, except--" For once Sue was as miserable as he, in her attempts to keep herself free from emotion, and her less than half-success.
"Don't cry, dear!" he implored.
"I am--not crying--because I meant to--love you; but because of your want of--confidence!"
They were quite screened from the market-square without, and he could not help putting out his arm towards her waist. His momentary desire was the means of her rallying. "No, no!" she said, drawing back stringently, and wiping her eyes. "Of course not! It would be hypocrisy to pretend that it would be meant as from my cousin; and it can't be in any other way."
They moved on a dozen paces, and she showed herself recovered. It was distracting to Jude, and his heart would have ached less had she appeared anyhow but as she did appear; essentially large-minded and generous on reflection, despite a previous exercise of those narrow womanly humours on impulse that were necessary to give her sex.
"I don't blame you for what you couldn't help," she said, smiling. "How should I be so foolish? I do blame you a little bit for not telling me before. But, after all, it doesn't matter. We should have had to keep apart, you see, even if this had not been in your life."
"No, we shouldn't, Sue! This is the only obstacle."
"You forget that I must have loved you, and wanted to be your wife, even if there had been no obstacle," said Sue, with a gentle seriousness which did not reveal her mind. "And then we are cousins, and it is bad for cousins to marry. And--I am engaged to somebody else. As to our going on together as we were going, in a sort of friendly way, the people round us would have made it unable to continue. Their views of the relations of man and woman are limited, as is proved by their expelling me from the school. Their philosophy only recognizes relations based on animal desire. The wide field of strong attachment where desire plays, at least, only a secondary part, is ignored by them--the part of--who is it?-- Venus Urania."
Her being able to talk learnedly showed that she was mistress of herself again; and before they parted she had almost regained her vivacious glance, her reciprocity of tone, her gay manner, and her second-thought attitude of critical largeness towards others of her age and sex.
He could speak more freely now. "There were several reasons against my telling you rashly. One was what I have said; another, that it was always impressed upon me that I ought not to marry--that I belonged to an odd and peculiar family-- the wrong breed for marriage."
"Ah--who used to say that to you?"
"My great-aunt. She said it always ended badly with us Fawleys."
"That's strange. My father used to say the same to me!"
They stood possessed by the same thought, ugly enough, even as an assumption: that a union between them, had such been possible, would have meant a terrible intensification of unfitness--two bitters in one dish.
"Oh, but there can't be anything in it!" she said with nervous lightness. "Our family have been unlucky of late years in choosing mates-- that's all."
And then they pretended to persuade themselves that all that had happened was of no consequence, and that they could still be cousins and friends and warm correspondents, and have happy genial times when they met, even if they met less frequently than before. Their parting was in good friendship, and yet Jude's last look into her eyes was tinged with inquiry, for he felt that he did not even now quite know her mind.
与此同时，有个中年人正在上面那个写信的女人身上做着非凡的美梦。他就是里查•费乐生。前不久他从基督堂附近的拉姆登男女合校的乡村小学迁回本乡沙氏顿，在一所规模较大的男生小学任教。该镇坐落在一个山崖上，拉直了算，两地相距六十英里。
只要对那地方和周遭一切瞧上一眼，就足以了解那位老师已经把他长期热中的计利和梦想通通放弃了，取而代之的是个新梦想，不过这新梦想无论同教会，还是同文学都一点不沾边。他天生不善料理实际生活，现在却为一个一个全属实际的目标，也就是为了养得起一个妻子而挣钱和攒钱。她要是愿意，还可以管理紧挨着他的小学的一所女校。正是出自这个打算，他才劝说她去进修，何况她并不准备匆匆忙忙跟他结婚。
大约在裘德从马利格林移居麦尔切斯特，并且在那儿同苏一起闹出风波的那段时间，老师也在沙氏顿新任小学的新校舍安顿停当。他修理了所有家具，把书籍一一插在书架上，钉好了钉子。一切就绪之后，在昏暗的寒冬夜晚，他开始坐在小会客室里，重理旧业，再做研究，其中一项就是罗马占领时期的不列颠古文物；一位国立小学教师为这门学问耗费精力固然换不来任何报酬，但他从放弃上大学的宏愿后就乐此不疲了。相对来说，这个领域还是到那时尚未开采的矿藏。对于类似他那样的人，住在那样偏僻闭塞的地方，古文物遗址可谓俯拾皆是，研究起来，日积月累，必定会对那个时期的文明做出新论断，与流行见解大异其趣，足以令人耳目一新。
从表面看，费乐生重做调查研究无疑是他目前的业余爱好——他可以独来独往，深入到遍布着湿地埂路、水道和坟冢的旷野荒郊；可以闭门玩赏收集到的古陶、陈瓦和各色镶嵌物；他还可以以此为冠冕堂皇的理由，不必挨家挨户去拜访邻居，虽然左邻右舍都表示过愿和他友好来往。然而这毕竟不是他的真正理由，也不是全部理由。只要看看那个月与平常不大相同的某个晚上，就会恍然大悟。沙氏顿在山崖上，下面是西向绵亘无垠的山谷，他的窗户开在镇上一个凸出的犄角地方，时间已近半夜，灯光依然射到窗外，仿佛申明此处有人还在埋头研究。其实满不是那么回事，他什么也没研究。
那间居室的内部——书籍、教师的宽松的外套，他伏案的姿势，甚至炉火的跳动，在展示着一个始终孜孜兀兀、研究不辍的庄严过程，再看他苦心孤诣，全无优越条件可资依傍，那就更非难能可贵一语所能尽。不过这个过程虽然到前些日子是真实可信的，此刻却大谬不然了，因为他心无旁骛的不在于历史本身，而是一份由他口述，并由一只刚健的女性之手记录下来的，于他有历史意义的记录。他这会儿正对着字字清晰的笔记发呆。
随后他从一个抽屉里拿出一叠细心扎好的信件，若拿这年头通信频繁的标准比较，为数未免少得可怜。所有信的内件依然装在信到时的原来信封里，信上笔迹一如那份有历史意义的笔记，具有相同的女性特点。他一份份打开，看得津津有味。乍一看，也许觉得这些小小的一张纸实在不像有什么叫人咂摸不完的东西。它们写得简单明了、直言不讳，信未署名“苏•柏——”；属于那类短时间分别后所写的信，看完了就顺手撕掉。至于内容主要不外乎谈些进修学校上课情况等等的经验，写信人那天一写完肯定把它们忘得一于二净。其中有一封才到，那位年轻的女人说她已经收到他那封体谅人的信，既然他以后将依她的愿望避免常去学校看望她，足证他为人宽厚，令人感佩。（学校这地方对来访者多有刁难，她非常希望她同他订婚一事不要走露风声，如果他频频来访，难免喧腾众口。）这些话，老师揣摩来揣摩去。女人不让爱她的男人常去看她，还因为他答应了，感激不尽，要是他该满意的话，到底哪一桩该满意呢？这个问题在他是个问葫芦，难解其中奥妙。
他拉开另一个抽屉，从中找着一个信封，打里面抽出苏孩子时一张相片，是老早以前他还不认识她时候拍的；她手里拿着小篮子，站在凉棚底下，还有一张，她已经长成年轻的女人了，黑眼睛黑头发使她在照片上显得别具风韵，非常美丽，在她的轻松愉快的气质中，多思虑的习性已灼然可见。这张相片跟她给裘德的一样，她也可以把它随便赠给别人。费乐生拿着它往唇边送，才送到一半就停了，因为他对她说的费解的话还满腹狐疑，无奈何只吻了吻贴相片的纸版，吻时一往情深，就连十八岁小伙子那种倾心相爱劲儿，也不免逊色。
老师的脸不怎么健康，显得老气横秋，又因为胡子留的样式，也就愈显老气了。他赋性耿介，有君子之风，一言一行必求光明磊落，无愧于心。他说话有点慢吞吞，但口气诚恳，间有打顿，却无伤大雅。头发鬈曲，渐见灰白，从头顶中部向周遭披开。前额有四条皱纹，晚上看书才戴眼镜。他并非对女人无动于衷，而是刻意学问而不得不敛情自抑，情形大概如此，所以他迄今未同哪个女人缔结良缘。
当他不在男孩子眼皮底下时，像那样默不作声的举动已重复多次，习以为常了。一向腼腆的老师现在正因苏的态度惴惴不安，孩子们打量他时，眼睛一扫，尖得像穿透了他的心，老是叫他受不了，弄得他天天一大早就想避开他们锥子样的目光，唯恐他们琢磨出他梦中也没忘的心事。
他慷慨同意苏表明的愿望之后，就不常去进修学校看苏了；到后来，他的耐心已经耗尽，再也熬不下去，于是在一个礼拜六上午出发去找她，给她个措手不及。他在校门口等了几分钟，待她出来；但是里边传出来她已经离校——也无妨认为被开除——的消息。由于事前没得到预告或讽示，弄得他顿时晕头转向。他转身就走，几乎连眼前的道路都认不出来了。
实际上，尽管她出事已有两礼拜之久，她却连一行也没写给她的求婚者。他前思后想了一下，觉得她没告诉他还说明不了什么，她因为自己不免有该受指责的地方，以女人天生面嫩好强而论，保持沉默也在情理之中，不足好奇。
学校的人已经把她的去向告诉他；眼下既然还不必为她的生活条件担忧，他就转而把满腔怒火发泄到进修学校委员会身上。费乐生六神无主，不觉走进了旁边的大教堂。因为那儿正修复，拆得乱七八糟，他也顾不得屁股沾上脏印子，就坐到一块易切石上，两眼无神，随着工人动作转，猛然间看出来其中就有那众口一词的罪魁祸首，苏的情人裘德。
裘德打从他在耶路撒冷模型旁边见过他从前崇拜的这位人物之后，再没跟他说过话。事有凑巧，他目睹了费乐生在有边篱的小路上试探着对苏做了求爱的动作，从此这年轻人心里对他滋生了异乎寻常的恶感，不愿想到他，也不愿见到他，不愿跟他互通音问。而且在他知道费乐生至少赢得她的许诺之后，他索性承认此后决不愿见到那位长辈或者听到他什么事，也不想知道他治学方面的进展，甚至连他的人品也不再想象有什么过人之处。老师来找苏，正好是他跟她约好、等她来的那天。所以他一瞧见老师坐在大教堂的中殿上，而且看出来他正走过来要跟他说话，觉得非常尴尬。费乐生自己也很尴尬，反倒没看出裘德怎么样。
裘德过到他这边来，两个人躲开别的工人，走到费乐生刚坐过的地方，裘德递给他一块帆布当垫子，告诉他坐在光石头上有危险。
“是，是。”费乐生一边坐下来，一边心不在焉地说，眼睛盯着地面，仿佛要极力想起来他这会儿究竟是在哪儿。“我耽误不了你多大工夫。因为听说你近来见过我的小朋友苏，就是为这个。我想就这件事跟你谈谈。我不过是想问问——她怎么啦？”
“我想我都知道！”裘德急忙说。“是她离开进修学校、到我这儿来的事吧？”
“就是。”
“好吧；”——裘德一刹那突然冒出一股伤天害理、心狠手辣的冲动，要不惜一切把他的情敌一举毁掉。男子汉素常为人处世光明磊落，豪迈大方，可是一跟人争起同一个女人的爱情，就变得阴贼忍刻，不惜狠下毒手。裘德只要说一句丑闻一点不假，苏已经跟他跟定了，就可以把费乐生打得一败涂地，终生受罪。不过他的行动在这一刹那却没有跟上他的动物本能；他说的却是：“你跟我直截了当地说这事，这番好意我领了。你知道她们怎么说的？——顶好是我跟她结婚。”
“什么！”
“我也是巴不得如愿以偿呢！”
费乐生浑身哆嗦起来，他的脸天生苍白，这一刻上面的线条变得死人般僵硬刻板了。“我可一点没想到事情闹到了这个地步哟！上帝不答应哟！”
“不是这么回事，不是这么回事呀。”裘德吓得直说。“我还当你听懂了呢！我这意思是，要是按我这会儿的处境，能跟她或是别的女人结了婚，成了家，安居乐业，用不着东跑西颠，老换地方住，那我就觉着太美啦！”
他真正的意思不过是说他爱她而已。
“可是——这么叫人受不了的事情既然闹开了——它到底是怎么回事呢？”费乐生问，这时他表现出男子汉的镇定果决，因为与其长期担惊害怕，受尽煎熬，不如爽爽快快，一了百了。“大凡出了事，就如同这个，就顾不得器量狭小，只好刨根问底，弄个水落石出，才好攻破谣言，消灭丑闻。”
裘德很快解释了一遍；把那次奇特的历程从头到尾都介绍了，包括他们那晚上怎么会呆在牧羊人家里；她怎么浑身湿透了，到了他的住处；她怎么因为泡了水，泡得生了病；他们俩怎么几乎通宵达旦地讨论不休；第二天早晨他怎么送她上火车。
“好极啦，”听完之后费乐生说，“我看你是把底都交啦，我知道你说的是可信的，也认为她们瞎猜疑，逼她退了学，绝对没道理。”
“没道理。”裘德十分严肃地说。“绝对没道理。上帝可以做证。”
老师站起来。他们两个心里都明白，经过这番交谈，他们再不能以朋友身份彼此心安理得地讨论他们近来的经历了。于是裘德领着他到处走了走，指给他看大教堂正在全面修复的特色，然后费乐生向年轻人告别，自己走了。
费乐生找到他大概在上午十一点，但是苏始终没露面。裘德一点钟去吃饭，忽然在通往“北门”的街上瞧见他心爱的女人正在他前面，看不出来一点要找他的意思。他赶紧快步追上去，说他原先就要她上大教堂他那儿去，她也答应过。
“我是到学校取东西。”她说——这句话虽然算不上回答，她却盼着他当回答就行了。他一看她这样答非所问，躲躲闪闪，觉得这会儿已经到时候了，非得把他长久避而不谈的情况说给她听不可。
“难道你今天没瞧见费乐生先生？”他乍着胆子质问她。
“没瞧见。我可不是来叫人盘问他的事的，你要是再问什么，我是决不答理！”
“那可太奇啦——”他停下来，盯着她。
“什么奇不奇？”
“你平常在人前可不像信里那样讨喜哪！”
“你真觉着这样！”她微笑着说，带出来一闪而过的想弄明白的意思。“唉，这可真怪啦，可是裘德呀，我可觉着待你始终一个样呢。你只要一走，我就觉着像那么个无情无义的——”
她既然知道他对她的感情，他深深感到此时此刻他们正滑向一失足成千古恨的深渊。他一个堂堂正正男子汉，一定得把一切都讲个一清二楚才行。
但是他没说出来，而她却接着说：“就因为我那么想，我才写，才说——你爱我，我没什么不愿意的——你想爱就爱吧，怎么爱都行！”
按说她话里的含义，或者似乎这样的意思，本当叫他欣喜欲狂，可是他已经胸有成竹，就把这样的情感压灭了。他本立在那儿，没有动静，半天才说：
“我还压根儿没跟你说——”
“你说过啦。”她嘟囔着。
“我的意思是，我压根儿没把我的历史——全部历史告诉你。”
“不过我猜到啦。”
裘德抬头看；难道她竟然听说过他那个早晨跟阿拉贝拉上演的那出戏；那几个月后比当事人死亡还彻底失败的婚姻？他看出来她并不知道。
“我在街上不便跟你都说。”他接着说，声音闷闷的。“再说你还是别到我住的地方为好。咱们就到这里边去好啦。”
他们站的地方旁边有座建筑物，是个市场，他们只好凑合着在那儿呆呆，于是进去了。那时已经下市，摊位和场区空空的，没什么人。他当然也想找个比较合适的地方，无奈跟通常情形一样，既没有充满浪漫情调的郊野，也没有气度庄严的教堂走廊做背景，只好踩着狼藉满地的烂苞菜叶子，在大堆腐烂变味的蔬菜和卖不掉的破烂东西之间来回转悠。一边走，他一边谈自己的经历。从开头到说完，不多几句，无非他早几年娶了老婆，眼下她还活着。她脸上还没变色，就马上迸出一句：
“你干吗早不跟我说！”
“我办不到。讲这事儿似乎太残酷。”
“那是对你残酷哟，裘德！对我要是残酷，那反倒好！”
“不对，你这么说不对，亲爱的宝贝儿！”裘德动情地大声说。他要拉她手，可她把手缩了回来。他们原来历时已久的推心置腹的关系猝然终止了，剩下的不过是男女之间无以缓和，也难以迁就的对抗情绪。她再也不成其为他的同志、朋友和生来就是他的心上人了。
“我这辈子闹出来的这段婚姻，我觉得真丢人哪。”他继续说。‘我这会儿也没法说明。要是你对这件事换个看法，我倒好说明白。”
“我怎么能换个看法呢？”她一下子发作了。“我不是一直写，一直说——你可以爱我，或者这类话嘛。——这全是发慈悲，为你好呀——到头来——啊，样样事一团糟，真恨死人哪！”她说，又急义气，神经质地哆嗦起来，直跺脚。
“苏呀，你错会我的意思啦！我压根儿就没想到你对我有意，到最近才明白过来，所以我觉得没关系。——你对我有意，还是大概这样呢，苏呀？——你明白我这话什么意思吧？我可不喜欢你说什么‘发慈悲，做好事’这样话！”
