Jude shifted the child into a more easy position on his arm, and concluded: "And what I appear, a sick and poor man, is not the worst of me. I am in a chaos of principles-- groping in the dark--acting by instinct and not after example. Eight or nine years ago when I came here first, I had a neat stock of fixed opinions, but they dropped away one by one; and the further I get the less sure I am. I doubt if I have anything more for my present rule of life than following inclinations which do me and nobody else any harm, and actually give pleasure to those I love best. There, gentlemen, since you wanted to know how I was getting on, I have told you. Much good may it do you! I cannot explain further here. I perceive there is something wrong somewhere in our social formulas: what it is can only be discovered by men or women with greater insight than mine--if, indeed, they ever discover it-- at least in our time. 'For who knoweth what is good for man in this life?--and who can tell a man what shall be after him under the sun?'"
"Hear, hear," said the populace.
"Well preached!" said Tinker Taylor. And privately to his neighbours: "Why, one of them jobbing pa'sons swarming about here, that takes the services when our head reverends want a holiday, wouldn't ha' discoursed such doctrine for less than a guinea down? Hey? I'll take my oath not one o' 'em would! And then he must have had it wrote down for 'n. And this only a working-man!"
As a sort of objective commentary on Jude's remarks there drove up at this moment with a belated doctor, robed and panting, a cab whose horse failed to stop at the exact point required for setting down the hirer, who jumped out and entered the door. The driver, alighting, began to kick the animal in the belly.
"If that can be done," said Jude, "at college gates in the most religious and educational city in the world, what shall we say as to how far we've got?"
"Order!" said one of the policemen, who had been engaged with a comrade in opening the large doors opposite the college. "Keep yer tongue quiet, my man, while the procession passes." The rain came on more heavily, and all who had umbrellas opened them. Jude was not one of these, and Sue only possessed a small one, half sunshade. She had grown pale, though Jude did not notice it then.
"Let us go on, dear," she whispered, endeavouring to shelter him. "We haven't any lodgings yet, remember, and all our things are at the station; and you are by no means well yet. I am afraid this wet will hurt you!"
"They are coming now. Just a moment, and I'll go!" said he.
A peal of six bells struck out, human faces began to crowd the windows around, and the procession of heads of houses and new doctors emerged, their red and black gowned forms passing across the field of Jude's vision like inaccessible planets across an object glass.
As they went their names were called by knowing informants, and when they reached the old round theatre of Wren a cheer rose high.
"Let's go that way!" cried Jude, and though it now rained steadily he seemed not to know it, and took them round to the theatre. Here they stood upon the straw that was laid to drown the discordant noise of wheels, where the quaint and frost-eaten stone busts encircling the building looked with pallid grimness on the proceedings, and in particular at the bedraggled Jude, Sue, and their children, as at ludicrous persons who had no business there.
"I wish I could get in!" he said to her fervidly. "Listen--I may catch a few words of the Latin speech by staying here; the windows are open."
However, beyond the peals of the organ, and the shouts and hurrahs between each piece of oratory, Jude's standing in the wet did not bring much Latin to his intelligence more than, now and then, a sonorous word in UM or IBUS.
"Well--I'm an outsider to the end of my days!" he sighed after a while. "Now I'll go, my patient Sue. How good of you to wait in the rain all this time--to gratify my infatuation! I'll never care any more about the infernal cursed place, upon my soul I won't! But what made you tremble so when we were at the barrier? And how pale you are, Sue!"
"I saw Richard amongst the people on the other side."
"Ah--did you!"
"He is evidently come up to Jerusalem to see the festival like the rest of us: and on that account is probably living not so very far away. He had the same hankering for the university that you had, in a milder form. I don't think he saw me, though he must have heard you speaking to the crowd. But he seemed not to notice."
"Well--suppose he did. Your mind is free from worries about him now, my Sue?"
"Yes, I suppose so. But I am weak. Although I know it is all right with our plans, I felt a curious dread of him; an awe, or terror, of conventions I don't believe in. It comes over me at times like a sort of creeping paralysis, and makes me so sad!"
"You are getting tired, Sue. Oh--I forgot, darling! Yes, we'll go on at once."
They started in quest of the lodging, and at last found something that seemed to promise well, in Mildew Lane-- a spot which to Jude was irresistible--though to Sue it was not so fascinating--a narrow lane close to the back of a college, but having no communication with it. The little houses were darkened to gloom by the high collegiate buildings, within which life was so far removed from that of the people in the lane as if it had been on opposite sides of the globe; yet only a thickness of wall divided them. Two or three of the houses had notices of rooms to let, and the newcomers knocked at the door of one, which a woman opened.
"Ah--listen!" said Jude suddenly, instead of addressing her.
"What?"
"Why the bells--what church can that be? The tones are familiar."
Another peal of bells had begun to sound out at some distance off.
"I don't know!" said the landlady tartly. "Did you knock to ask that?"
"No; for lodgings," said Jude, coming to himself.
The householder scrutinized Sue's figure a moment. "We haven't any to let," said she, shutting the door.
Jude looked discomfited, and the boy distressed. "Now, Jude," said Sue, "let me try. You don't know the way."
They found a second place hard by; but here the occupier, observing not only Sue, but the boy and the small children, said civilly, "I am sorry to say we don't let where there are children"; and also closed the door.
The small child squared its mouth and cried silently, with an instinct that trouble loomed. The boy sighed. "I don't like Christminster!" he said. "Are the great old houses gaols?"
"No; colleges," said Jude; "which perhaps you'll study in some day."
"I'd rather not!" the boy rejoined.
"Now we'll try again," said Sue. "I'll pull my cloak more round me.... Leaving Kennetbridge for this place is like coming from Caiaphas to Pilate! ... How do I look now, dear?"
"Nobody would notice it now," said Jude.
There was one other house, and they tried a third time. The woman here was more amiable; but she had little room to spare, and could only agree to take in Sue and the children if her husband could go elsewhere. This arrangement they perforce adopted, in the stress from delaying their search till so late. They came to terms with her, though her price was rather high for their pockets. But they could not afford to be critical till Jude had time to get a more permanent abode; and in this house Sue took possession of a back room on the second floor with an inner closet-room for the children. Jude stayed and had a cup of tea; and was pleased to find that the window commanded the back of another of the colleges. Kissing all four he went to get a few necessaries and look for lodgings for himself.
When he was gone the landlady came up to talk a little with Sue, and gather something of the circumstances of the family she had taken in. Sue had not the art of prevarication, and, after admitting several facts as to their late difficulties and wanderings, she was startled by the landlady saying suddenly:
"Are you really a married woman?"
Sue hesitated; and then impulsively told the woman that her husband and herself had each been unhappy in their first marriages, after which, terrified at the thought of a second irrevocable union, and lest the conditions of the contract should kill their love, yet wishing to be together, they had literally not found the courage to repeat it, though they had attempted it two or three times. Therefore, though in her own sense of the words she was a married woman, in the landlady's sense she was not.
The housewife looked embarrassed, and went down-stairs. Sue sat by the window in a reverie, watching the rain. Her quiet was broken by the noise of someone entering the house, and then the voices of a man and woman in conversation in the passage below. The land-lady's husband had arrived, and she was explaining to him the incoming of the lodgers during his absence.
His voice rose in sudden anger. "Now who wants such a woman here? and perhaps a confinement! ... Besides, didn't I say I wouldn't have children? The hall and stairs fresh painted, to be kicked about by them! You must have known all was not straight with 'em--coming like that. Taking in a family when I said a single man."
The wife expostulated, but, as it seemed, the husband insisted on his point; for presently a tap came to Sue's door, and the woman appeared.
"I am sorry to tell you, ma'am," she said, "that I can't let you have the room for the week after all. My husband objects; and therefore I must ask you to go. I don't mind your staying over to-night, as it is getting late in the afternoon; but I shall be glad if you can leave early in the morning."
Though she knew that she was entitled to the lodging for a week, Sue did not wish to create a disturbance between the wife and husband, and she said she would leave as requested. When the landlady had gone Sue looked out of the window again. Finding that the rain had ceased she proposed to the boy that, after putting the little ones to bed, they should go out and search about for another place, and bespeak it for the morrow, so as not to be so hard-driven then as they had been that day.
Therefore, instead of unpacking her boxes, which had just been sent on from the station by Jude, they sallied out into the damp though not unpleasant streets, Sue resolving not to disturb her husband with the news of her notice to quit while he was perhaps worried in obtaining a lodging for himself. In the company of the boy she wandered into this street and into that; but though she tried a dozen different houses she fared far worse alone than she had fared in Jude's company, and could get nobody to promise her a room for the following day. Every householder looked askance at such a woman and child inquiring for accommodation in the gloom.
"I ought not to be born, ought I?" said the boy with misgiving.
Thoroughly tired at last Sue returned to the place where she was not welcome, but where at least she had temporary shelter. In her absence Jude had left his address; but knowing how weak he still was she adhered to her determination not to disturb him till the next day.
他们到了基督堂车站，只见那儿非常热闹。一大群戴草帽的小伙子来来往往；他们是来迎姑娘们的；她们的长相，同欢迎者活脱是一个模子出来的，足见是一家人。她们个个盛装艳服，绚丽夺目，尽态极妍。
“这地方一派喜庆气氛嘛。”苏说。“对啦——今天是寄思日啊，——裘德，你可真刁呀——你是存心拣这个日子来呀！”
“就是。”裘德沉住气说。他一边把最小的孩子抱起来，一边嘱咐阿拉贝拉的孩子要紧挨着他们，苏则照料他们两个生的头一个孩子。
“我想过啦，反正早也是来，晚也是来，不如今天来。”
“可是我怕这一天叫你不痛快呢。”她说，一边不安地上上下下地打量他。
“我决不会让这个打搅咱们的正事；咱们还没在这儿定下来，好多事得办哪，头一件想办的就是找地方住啊。”
他们把行李和他的工具寄放在车站上，然后步行前往熟悉的大街；休假的人一窝蜂似地拥到同一个方向。他们一家人先走到四路口，想转到可能找得到住处的地方。裘德看了看钟和匆忙过往的人群，就说，“咱们这会儿别惦记着找房子，先看看游行好不好？”
“咱们总得先找到托身地方，不是吗？”她问。
但是裘德的全部心神似乎都贯注在那个周年纪念上了，于是他们一块儿顺大成街走下去。裘德抱着顶小的孩子，苏牵着自己的小女儿，阿拉贝拉的孩子不言不语，心事很重地走在旁边。一大群打扮得花枝招展的俏丽姊妹和她们的年轻时候没上过大学，一窍不通、百依百顺的爹娘，由既当兄长又当儿子的小伙子保驾，也朝着同一个方向走。小伙子个个脸上神气活现，像是写着世上本皆属草昧之人，赖有他们多方调教，这才开化，臻于文明之域，云云。
“这些小伙子个个神气十足，正好反衬着我的失败啊。”裘德说。“我今天来，就是为领略一番自命不凡带来的教训——今天是我的“受辱日”啊！我的亲亲，要不是你把我挽救了，我也许因为绝望而彻底完蛋啦！”
她从他脸上的表情看出来，他又陷入异常剧烈地痛惜自己的心境。“亲爱的，咱们顶好还是马上办自己的事情。”她答道。“我知道这儿的情景又勾起你旧的创痛，这可不好！”
“呃——咱们快走到了；就要看见啦。”他说。
他们从左首拐过那座有意大利式门廊、螺旋纹立柱上攀满藤蔓的教堂；随即穿过巷子，一直走到那赫然在望的、因屋顶有灯笼形天窗而遐迩驰名的圆形会堂。在他的内心深处，那个天窗就是他忍痛绝念于前程的表征，因为当年他曾在一个下午在那儿临窗眺望大学城，思绪万千，百感交集，终于醒悟过来，他力求成为大学的儿子的企图，无非是枉费心机。
今天，在那建筑物与教堂之间的空地上，麇集着来看游行的人群。两行大栏杆把他们从中间隔开，留出一条通道，从学院大门一直延伸到学院和会堂之间的大楼门前。
“就是这地方——等会儿他们就过来啦！”裘德忽然兴奋起来，大声说。尽管他怀里抱着孩子，他还是拼命往前挤，苏则带着两个孩子紧跟着，他们好不容易才挤到一个紧靠隔离栏的位置。他们剩下的空档立刻让人填上了。这时马车一辆挨一辆在学院侧门前停住，上面下来身穿血红大袍的大人物，道貌岸然，迈着四方步，看热闹的人也就议论开了，要贫嘴，放声大笑。天空已经阴下来，灰沉沉的，时不时听见隐隐雷声。
时光老爹打了个冷战。“真像最后审判日呀！”他小声嘀咕。
“别瞎说，他们不过是有学问的博士就是啦。”苏说。
他们还是往下等，大雨点子这时劈头盖脸掉下来，队伍仍旧迟迟不来，人群不耐烦起来。苏又表示别再等了。
“一会儿就过来了。”裘德说，头也没回一下。
但是游行队伍的影子还看不见。有人为了消磨时间，就朝着最近便的学院的正面望，说他闹不明白中间部位刻的拉丁文什么意思。裘德正好站在那人旁边，就把意思给他讲了讲；他一看周围人都很感兴趣地听着，又把墙壁饰条的刻工解释了一下（他多年前研究过这类东西），还批评了城里另一所学院的前脸的石活的某些细部。
那群候等着的人，其中还有两个站在学院大门口的警察，都呆呆地看着他，仿佛吕高尼人在看保罗，因为裘德不论碰到什么可谈的题目，总是谈兴大发，滔滔不绝；那些人不免觉得他特别，心想怎么这个异乡人知道的东西居然比住在本地的人知道得还多；后来有个人说：“嗨，我认得这小子，前些年他常在这儿干活，没错儿！你们全忘啦，大伙儿不是给他起过外号，管他叫‘圣棚户区布道师’吗？——因为他就想干这一行嘛。我猜他后来结婚成家了，抱着自个儿的孩子哪。泰勒总认得出来他吧，因为他谁都认识。”
说这话的人名叫杰克•司太格，裘德从前跟他一块儿修过学院的石活；补锅匠泰勒站得很近，他们看得见。他一听别人提他名字，就隔着栅栏大声对裘德说：“你瞧得起咱们爷们，大驾又回来啦，我的朋友！”
裘德点点头。
“你打这儿走了，好像也没多大出息，对吧？”
裘德对这句话也表示肯定。
“就是多了几个嘴要喂喽！”这个说话声音刚才没听见过。裘德听出来是乔爷，也是他早先认识的一位石匠。
裘德兴致勃勃地回答说他可没法跟他辩这一点；大家七嘴八舌，像是他跟这伙没事于的人开谈话会，补锅匠泰勒问他忘没忘那晚上在酒馆里人家激他背使佳信经的事儿。
“不过命运女神没叫你生来于那行子，对吧？”乔爷插嘴说。“我看凭你这块料，于那行子还够不上吧？”
“别再跟他们说啦。”苏恳求着。
“我真讨厌基督堂！”小时光垂头丧气地咕噜着，他比周围的人矮一截，站在那儿看不出来。
裘德可不然，他一看自己成了大家好奇、奚落和议论的中心，再也不肯善罢甘休，一定要把他自觉并没愧对世人的地方讲出个道理。稍过了会儿，他就情绪昂奋，高声对着他所有的听众说起来。
“列位，这是个随便哪个年轻人也难以回答的问题——是我当初全力以赴，想把它回答出来的问题，也是眼下成千上万的青年在当前这个奋进的时代不断地反复思考的问题——究竟是完全不顾自己是否适合，不加批判地跟着前人足迹亦步亦趋呢，还是按着自个儿才智所宜，志趣所在，选定进取的方向？我力求走后一条路，失败了。可我不承认我一失败就表示我的见解是错误的；我一成功，我的见解就对啦——虽说如今这年头，咱们全是按成败论英雄。我这是指不看那些愿望的内涵是不是健全合理，单单计较一时的偶然结果。咱们刚才瞧见穿红袍子、黑袍子的爷们驾到此地啦，就假定我总算成了其中哪一位那样吧，人人就会说：‘瞧哇，那小子才聪明哪，他就是按性之所好走过来的！’可是一瞧见我从头到尾一事无成，依然故我，就说，‘瞧哇，那小子想瞎猫碰死耗子，真是个大笨蛋！’
“说真的，我是因为穷，不是意志不坚才输的。我极力想要我这辈子干成的事儿，可得两三辈人才成呢；我的冲劲儿——我的执著精神——也许可以叫我的毛病吧，反而叫一个生来不具备优越条件的人进退失据，适得其反啦。只有鱼一样冷血、猪一样自私的人才有上佳机缘，成了他的国家的栋梁之材。你们笑话我好啦，我也挺愿意你们笑话，无疑我是个该让人笑话的东西。不过你们要是知道我这些年怎么挣扎过来的，你们反倒要可怜可怜我啦。要是他们也知道”——他朝着师尊们陆续到达的学院那边点点头——“说不定他们也一样可怜可怜吧。”
“他这人真是病啦，垮啦，真是的！”一个女人嘟囔着。
苏脸上显得感情更为激动，不过她人紧挨着裘德，就给遮掩起来了。
“我死之前，还可以办件好事，也算我有了成绩吧，这就是叫人知道什么事千万别干，拿我当个叫人寒心的例子，也好当个教育人的故事说说。”裘德继续说下去，虽然他开头说的时候，还算心平气和，这会儿却悲愤起来。“眼下思想和社会方面惶惶不安的精神面貌弄得好多人都陷入苦闷啦，我呢，说到底，就是这种状况的一个微不足道的牺牲品啊！”
“你别跟他们说这些吧。”苏含着泪小声说，因为她深知裘德此时的心境。“你从前不是那样的人。你从前是怀着高尚的宗旨，为追求学问而奋斗，只有那些卑鄙的家伙才贬低你！”
