The book was an old one--thirty years old, soiled, scribbled wantonly over with a strange name in every variety of enmity to the letterpress, and marked at random with dates twenty years earlier than his own day. But this was not the cause of Jude's amazement. He learnt for the first time that there was no law of transmutation, as in his innocence he had supposed (there was, in some degree, but the grammarian did not recognize it), but that every word in both Latin and Greek was to be individually committed to memory at the cost of years of plodding.
Jude flung down the books, lay backward along the broad trunk of the elm, and was an utterly miserable boy for the space of a quarter of an hour. As he had often done before, he pulled his hat over his face and watched the sun peering insidiously at him through the interstices of the straw. This was Latin and Greek, then, was it this grand delusion! The charm he had supposed in store for him was really a labour like that of Israel in Egypt.
What brains they must have in Christminster and the great schools, he presently thought, to learn words one by one up to tens of thousands! There were no brains in his head equal to this business; and as the little sun-rays continued to stream in through his hat at him, he wished he had never seen a book, that he might never see another, that he had never been born.
Somebody might have come along that way who would have asked him his trouble, and might have cheered him by saying that his notions were further advanced than those of his grammarian. But nobody did come, because nobody does; and under the crushing recognition of his gigantic error Jude continued to wish himself out of the world.
这个孩子，按思想发展的某些状况说，是个古时候人，可是在另一些方面又比他的实际年龄幼稚许多。他这会儿一个劲儿想心事，走路就慢多了，也就让一个脚底下轻快的人赶了过去。天已昏暗，不过他多少看得出来那人头戴一顶特高的礼帽，身穿一件燕尾服，配着一根表链，脚上一双没响声的靴子。他的两条细腿甩开大步朝前闯，那根表链也就随之狂跳不已，把天光星星点点折射出来。裘德本已开始觉得孤单，一心想追上他。
“嗨，你这家伙！我赶路哪，你要想追上我，得快走才行啊。你知道我是谁吗？”
“我想我知道。你不就是韦伯大夫吗？”
“哈哈——我是尽人皆知哪，因为我时时刻刻给人办好事啊。”
韦伯是个卖假药的江湖郎中，因为他一向小心谨慎，不露马脚，免得惹出是非，引人盘查，所以只有乡里人熟识他，其他人就对他一无所知了。又因为只有草房住户才向他求医问药，所以在维塞克斯郡，也只在这类人中间有名气。他比那些既有大本钱、又有一整套广告班子替他招摇撞骗的骗子手，未免寒酸许多，病家也更卑贱。实际上他是勉强混日子。他足迹遍及维塞克斯郡，东西南北，称得上无远弗届。裘德以前有一天瞧见他把一罐子上色的猪油卖给一个老太婆，说是专治腿脚病的。老太婆得为那珍贵的药膏出一几尼，按分期付款办法，一回交一先令。大夫自称只能从西奈山上一种吃草的神兽身上提取到这药，要抓到它，非冒送掉性命和残肢败体的严重危险不可。裘德固然老早就对这位绅士的药品信不过，不过觉得拿他当个同路人也没什么关系，况且在纯属他那行当之外，也许还能提供点可信的材料呢。
“大夫，你到没到过基督堂呀？”
“到过——到过好多回啦，”又高又瘦的郎中回答，“我在那儿还办了个治疗中心呢。”
“那是个了不起的讲学术跟宗教的城市吧，对不对呀？”
“孩子，你要是瞧见它，准这么说啊。啊，连大学里头洗衣服的老太婆的儿子都说拉丁文——照我看，可不能说这拉丁文说得地道，什么狗拉丁——猫拉丁，我念大学时候就这么叫它。”
“希腊文呢？”
“呃——那是专替经过训练，以后当主教的人开的课，他们以后就能够念《新约全书》的原文啦。”
“我很想学拉丁文跟希腊文。”
“这志气可不得了。你得先每样儿弄本文法书才行哪。”
“我打算哪一天上基督堂呢。”
“随便你哪天去，你见了人都要说，韦伯大夫独家制造经营的那些著名的药丸子，专治肠胃不调、多年抖索、中气不接，功效如神。两先令一便士一盒——印花为凭，特准行销。”
“要是我答应你在方近左右传名的话，你还能给我弄到文法书？”
“我倒乐意把我的卖给你呢——是我当学生时候用的。”
“哦，谢谢啦，先生。”裘德说，显出感激不尽的样子，不过他有点上气不接下气了，因为他得小跑才跟得上郎中走路的惊人速度，累得他两肋都扎得慌。
“小伙子，我看你顶好别跟在我后边啦。我这会儿就跟你说说我打算怎么办。我要给你弄到文法书，还给你上头一课，不过你别忘了在村子里挨家挨户推销韦伯大夫的金药膏、长寿液跟妇道调荣丸。”
“那你把文法书带到哪儿呢？”
“再过两个礼拜，还是今儿个这样，我准打这儿过，准时七点五十二分，分秒不错。我一活动起来，跟行星在轨道上运行一个样儿，时间十分精确。”
“我就在这儿等你好啦。”裘德说。
“哪家订了药也带来吗？”
“那还用说，大夫。”
裘德就留在后头，歇了几分钟缓缓气。到家的时候，心里觉着已经为到基督堂办了件大事。
这中间两个礼拜，他随处走，对于自己内心蕴藏的思想，不时展露笑容，仿佛那些思想就是他平时见到的、井且对他打招呼的人。他的笑容有着那样非凡美丽的光彩，因为只要内心吸取了灿烂辉煌的思想，这样的光彩就会泛现在年轻的面庞上，如同一盏神灯把他们天生纯净澄澈的心胜照映出来，激发起令人快慰的幻念：天堂就近在身边啊。
他真心相信那个包治百病的家伙，老老实实履行了对他的承诺，作为郎中派出的代理人，在周围的村子东跑西颠了好多英里。在约好的那晚上，他站在上次同韦伯分手时的高冈上，木然不动，静候他到来。江湖郎中还算守时，可是令裘德大惑不解的是，当他过去同郎中齐步走时，他却一步也没放松，似乎没认出这年轻伙伴，尽管只过了两个礼拜，再说天也黑得晚了些。裘德以为这大概因为自己换了帽子，于是规规矩矩向他行个礼。
“呃，孩子？”后者心不在焉地说。
“我来啦！”裘德说。
“你？你是谁呀？哦，对啦，不错不错！小子，带单子没有？”
“带来啦。”裘德接着把愿意试用他的名满世界、功效如神的九药和青子的草房住户的姓名、住址一一报给他听。江湖郎中聚精会神记在心里。
“拉丁文跟希腊文的文法书呢？”裘德焦急地问，声音都发抖了。
“什么文法书呀？”
“你要把你的带来给我，你从前念学位时候用的。”
“哎，是啊，是啊！忘得一干二净啦——一干二净啦！你瞧，那么多人的命得靠我关照哪，就算我想得起来，可哪儿来那么多心思管别的事呀！”
裘德隐忍了好半天，想弄明白到底怎么回事，这才又说了一遍，声音饱含着委屈，“你没把文法书带来嘛！”
“没带来。不过你还得拉点病人来，那我下回就把文法书带来。”
裘德没再跟着他。他是个天真烂漫的孩子，哪里懂什么机诈。但是孩子有一种不期而至的天赋直觉，这使他立刻看穿卖假药的是个人面兽心的东西。从这方面是再休想得到心智方面的启发了，想象中的桂冠的叶子纷纷凋落下来；他倚在一个篱笆门上，失声痛哭。
这次失望之后是一段无精打采、无所作为的时期。或许他能从阿尔夫瑞顿买到文法书吧，可是那得有钱才行啊，再说该买什么样的书也不知道呀；何况他虽然不愁吃穿，终归是寄人篱下，自个儿是一文不名啊。
说来也巧，这时费乐生先生派人来取钢琴，裘德灵机一动：何不写信给老师，求他关照，帮他在基督堂弄到文法书呢？他不妨把信放在装钢琴的箱子里，老师收到钢琴，一定看得到。何不求他寄点什么用过的书来呢？那书里准有日薰月染的大学气氛的魅力呀。
经过几天反复考虑，他果真行动起来。运走钢琴那天正巧是他生日，他人不知鬼不觉地把信放进了装琴的箱子，寄给由衷敬仰的朋友；他生怕这件事露了馅，让他多喜姑婆知道，因为她一经发现，非逼他放弃不可。
钢琴运走后，裘德等了一天又一天，一个礼拜又一个礼拜，天天一大早趁姑婆没起床，就到草房邮政所打听。后来果然有包裹寄到村子，他从包裹两头看出来里面是薄薄两本书。他拿到一个僻静地方，坐在一棵砍倒的榆树干上，把包裹打开。
自从基督堂和它可能有的种种景象第一次使他为之欣喜若狂或想入非非以来，裘德一直潜心思索，大发奇想，以为说不定有那么一种路数足以把一种语言的词语转译为另一种语言的词语。他得出结论是：要学的语言的文法可能包含一种密码性质的定则、验方或线索，一经对这种定则。验方或线索掌握，只要通过实际应用，就能使他随心所欲地把他自己的语言的全部单词译成外国语言的单词。他这种孩子气的构想其实是把名传遐迩的格里姆定律推阐到数学意味的精确的极致，从而在各个方面使本属粗疏的法则改进、充实到理想的完善程度。因此他才设想要学的语言一定能在已经掌握的语言当中找到潜在的对应词，这需要具备一定技巧的人来揭示，而这种技巧正是由上面说的文法书提供的。
他看到包裹上盖的是基督堂邮戳，就把绳子扯断，打开包封，首先取出的恰好是放在上面的拉丁文法。他简直不敢相信自己的眼、是本旧书一出版、十年了，挺脏的，上面东涂西抹，狼藉满纸，到处有眼生的名字，好像对于有插图的正文怀有深仇大恨才这么干的，还乱七八糟地标着许多比他自己生年还早二十年的日期。但这还不是使他一下子呆若木鸡的原因。而是他到这会儿才头一次明白过来，根本没什么由他天真无知设想出来的两种语言之间彼此可以置换的法则（某种程度上，有是有，不过文法家不予认可），而要把所有拉丁文和希腊文的单词一个个记到脑子里去，那得耗尽多少艰苦卓绝的努力哟。
裘德把文法书甩到了一边，在粗壮的榆树干旁边仰面朝天躺下来，有一刻钟光景伤心以极。他习以为常，把帽子拉到脸上，眼对着从草帽缏隙缝射进来的不怀好意地觑着他的阳光。这就是拉丁文和希腊文吗？唉，真是个大骗局哟！他先前想象出来的等着他的魔力到头来竟然跟以色列人在埃及做的苦工没两样啊！
他立刻想到基督堂和大学里边的人该有怎样不同寻常的头脑，把那几万几万个词逐一学会呀！他脑袋里可没装着干这样事的脑子啊；在细微的光芒继续穿过草帽照着他时候，他但愿当初压根没见过书才好，以后永远也别见到书才好，但愿自己压根儿没生到世上来才好呢。
倘若有人路过此处，或许问问他为什么这样苦恼；听了之后，会说他的想法比他的文法家的想法还高一筹呢，以此来给他鼓劲打气。但是谁也没来，就算有人来了，也不会这样干。裘德承认他是因为犯了弥天大错而一败涂地了，继续希望离开人世。
Part 1 Chapter 5
DURING the three or four succeeding years a quaint and singular vehicle might have been discerned moving along the lanes and by-roads near Marygreen, driven in a quaint and singular way.
In the course of a month or two after the receipt of the books Jude had grown callous to the shabby trick played him by the dead languages. In fact, his disappointment at the nature of those tongues had, after a while, been the means of still further glorifying the erudition of Christminster. To acquire languages, departed or living in spite of such obstinacies as he now knew them inherently to possess, was a herculean performance which gradually led him on to a greater interest in it than in the presupposed patent process. The mountain-weight of material under which the ideas lay in those dusty volumes called the classics piqued him into a dogged, mouselike subtlety of attempt to move it piecemeal.
He had endeavoured to make his presence tolerable to his crusty maiden aunt by assisting her to the best of his ability, and the business of the little cottage bakery had grown in consequence. An aged horse with a hanging head had been purchased for eight pounds at a sale, a creaking cart with a whity-brown tilt obtained for a few pounds more, and in this turn-out it became Jude's business thrice a week to carry loaves of bread to the villagers and solitary cotters immediately round Marygreen.
The singularity aforesaid lay, after all, less in the conveyance itself than in Jude's manner of conducting it along its route. Its interior was the scene of most of Jude's education by "private study." As soon as the horse had learnt the road and the houses at which he was to pause awhile, the boy, seated in front, would slip the reins over his arm, ingeniously fix open, by means of a strap attached to the tilt, the volume he was reading, spread the dictionary on his knees, and plunge into the simpler passages from Caesar, Virgil, or Horace, as the case might be, in his purblind stumbling way, and with an expenditure of labour that would have made a tender-hearted pedagogue shed tears; yet somehow getting at the meaning of what he read, and divining rather than beholding the spirit of the original, which often to his mind was something else than that which he was taught to look for.
The only copies he had been able to lay hands on were old Delphin editions, because they were superseded, and therefore cheap. But, bad for idle schoolboys, it did so happen that they were passably good for him. The hampered and lonely itinerant conscientiously covered up the marginal readings, and used them merely on points of construction, as he would have used a comrade or tutor who should have happened to be passing by. And though Jude may have had little chance of becoming a scholar by these rough and ready means, he was in the way of getting into the groove he wished to follow.
While he was busied with these ancient pages, which had already been thumbed by hands possibly in the grave, digging out the thoughts of these minds so remote yet so near, the bony old horse pursued his rounds, and Jude would be aroused from the woes of Dido by the stoppage of his cart and the voice of some old woman crying, "Two to-day, baker, and I return this stale one."
He was frequently met in the lanes by pedestrians and others without his seeing them, and by degrees the people of the neighbourhood began to talk about his method of combining work and play (such they considered his reading to be), which, though probably convenient enough to himself, was not altogether a safe proceeding for other travellers along the same roads. There were murmurs. Then a private resident of an adjoining place informed the local policeman that the baker's boy should not be allowed to read while driving, and insisted that it was the constable's duty to catch him in the act, and take him to the police court at Alfredston, and get him fined for dangerous practices on the highway. The policeman thereupon lay in wait for Jude, and one day accosted him and cautioned him.
As Jude had to get up at three o'clock in the morning to heat the oven, and mix and set in the bread that he distributed later in the day, he was obliged to go to bed at night immediately after laying the sponge; so that if he could not read his classics on the highways he could hardly study at all. The only thing to be done was, therefore, to keep a sharp eye ahead and around him as well as he could in the circumstances, and slip away his books as soon as anybody loomed in the distance, the policeman in particular. To do that official justice, he did not put himself much in the way of Jude's bread-cart, considering that in such a lonely district the chief danger was to Jude himself, and often on seeing the white tilt over the hedges he would move in another direction.
On a day when Fawley was getting quite advanced, being now about sixteen, and had been stumbling through the "Carmen Saeculare," on his way home, he found himself to be passing over the high edge of the plateau by the Brown House. The light had changed, and it was the sense of this which had caused him to look up. The sun was going down, and the full moon was rising simultaneously behind the woods in the opposite quarter. His mind had become so impregnated with the poem that, in a moment of the same impulsive emotion which years before had caused him to kneel on the ladder, he stopped the horse, alighted, and glancing round to see that nobody was in sight, knelt down on the roadside bank with open book. He turned first to the shiny goddess, who seemed to look so softly and critically at his doings, then to the disappearing luminary on the other hand, as he began:
"Phoebe silvarumque potens Diana!"
The horse stood still till he had finished the hymn, which Jude repeated under the sway of a polytheistic fancy that he would never have thought of humouring in broad daylight.
Reaching home, he mused over his curious superstition, innate or acquired, in doing this, and the strange forgetfulness which had led to such a lapse from common sense and custom in one who wished, next to being a scholar, to be a Christian divine. It had all come of reading heathen works exclusively. The more he thought of it the more convinced he was of his inconsistency. He began to wonder whether he could be reading quite the right books for his object in life. Certainly there seemed little harmony between this pagan literature and the mediaeval colleges at Christminster, that ecclesiastical romance in stone.
Ultimately he decided that in his sheer love of reading he had taken up a wrong emotion for a Christian young man. He had dabbled in Clarke's Homer, but had never yet worked much at the New Testament in the Greek, though he possessed a copy, obtained by post from a second-hand bookseller. He abandoned the now familiar Ionic for a new dialect, and for a long time onward limited his reading almost entirely to the Gospels and Epistles in Griesbach's text. Moreover, on going into Alfredston one day, he was introduced to patristic literature by finding at the bookseller's some volumes of the Fathers which had been left behind by an insolvent clergyman of the neighbourhood.
As another outcome of this change of groove he visited on Sundays all the churches within a walk, and deciphered the Latin inscriptions on fifteenth-century brasses and tombs. On one of these pilgrimages he met with a hunch-backed old woman of great intelligence, who read everything she could lay her hands on, and she told him more yet of the romantic charms of the city of light and lore. Thither he resolved as firmly as ever to go.
But how live in that city? At present he had no income at all. He had no trade or calling of any dignity or stability whatever on which he could subsist while carrying out an intellectual labour which might spread over many years.
What was most required by citizens? Food, clothing, and shelter. An income from any work in preparing the first would be too meagre; for making the second he felt a distaste; the preparation of the third requisite he inclined to. They built in a city; therefore he would learn to build. He thought of his unknown uncle, his cousin Susanna's father, an ecclesiastical worker in metal, and somehow mediaeval art in any material was a trade for which he had rather a fancy. He could not go far wrong in following his uncle's footsteps, and engaging himself awhile with the carcases that contained the scholar souls.
As a preliminary he obtained some small blocks of freestone, metal not being available, and suspending his studies awhile, occupied his spare half-hours in copying the heads and capitals in his parish church.
There was a stone-mason of a humble kind in Alfredston, and as soon as he had found a substitute for himself in his aunt's little business, he offered his services to this man for a trifling wage. Here Jude had the opportunity of learning at least the rudiments of freestone-working. Some time later he went to a church-builder in the same place, and under the architect's direction became handy at restoring the dilapidated masonries of several village churches round about.
Not forgetting that he was only following up this handicraft as a prop to lean on while he prepared those greater engines which he flattered himself would be better fitted for him, he yet was interested in his pursuit on its own account. He now had lodgings during the week in the little town, whence he returned to Marygreen village every Saturday evening. And thus he reached and passed his nineteenth year.
