"I've got a fam--ily vault at Kingsbere!""Hush-don't be so silly, Jacky," said his wife."Yours is not the only family that was of'count in wolddays. Look at the Anktells, and Horseys, and the Tringhams themselves--gone to seed a'most as much asyou--though you was bigger folks then they, that's true. Thank God, I was never of no family, and havenothingtobeashamedof inthatway!""Don't you be so sure o' that. From you nater 'tis my belief you've disgraced yourselves more than any o'us, and was kings and queens outright at one time."Tess turned the subject by saying what was far more prominent in her own mind at the moment thanthoughts of her ancestry--"I am afraid father won'tbe able totake the journey with thebeehives tomorrowso early.""? I shall be all right in an hour or two," said Durbeyfield.It was eleven o'clock before the family were all in bed, and two o'clock next morning was the latest hourfor starting with the beehives if they were to be delivered to the retailers inCasterbridge before theSaturday market began,the way thither lying by bad roads over a distance of between twenty and thirtymiles,and thehorse and waggonbeing ofthe slowest.At half-pastoneMrs Durbeyfield cameintothelarge bedroom where Tess and all her little brothers and sisters slept."The poor man can't go," she said to her eldest daughter, whose great eyes had opened the moment hermother's hand touched the door.Tess sat up in bed, lost in a vague interspace between a dream and this information."But somebody must go," she replied. "It is late for the hives already. Swarming will soon be over for theyear, and it we put off taking'em till next week's market the call for'em will be past, and theyll bethrown on our hands."Mrs Durbeyfield looked unequal to the emergency."Some young feller, perhaps, would go? One of themwho were so much after dancing with 'ee yesterday," she presently suggested."O no--I wouldn't have it for the world!" declared Tess proudly."And letting everybody know the reason--such a thing to be ashamed of I think I could go ifAbraham could go with me to kip me company."Hermother at length agreed to this arrangement.Little Abraham wasaroused fromhis deepsleep inacorner of the same apartment, and made to put on his clothes while still mentally in the other world.Meanwhile Tess had hastily dressed herself, and the twain, lighting a lantern, went out to the stable.Therickety lttle waggon was already laden, and the girl led out the horse Prince, only a degree less ricketythan the vehicle.The poor creature looked wonderingly round at the night, at the lantern, at their two figures, as if he couldnot believe that at that hour, when every living thing was intended to be in shelter and at rest, he wascalled upon to go out and labour.They put a stock of candle-ends into the lantern, hung the latter to theoff-side of the load, and directed the horse onward, walking at his shoulder at first during the uphill partsof the way, in order not to overload an animal of so little vigour.To cheer themselves as well as theycould, they made an artificial morning with the lantern, some bread and butter, and their ownconversation,thereal morningbeingfarfrom come.Abraham,ashemorefullyawoke(forhehad moved- 16 -
- 16 - "I've got a fam-ily vault at Kingsbere!" "Hush-don't be so silly, Jacky," said his wife. "Yours is not the only family that was of 'count in wold days. Look at the Anktells, and Horseys, and the Tringhams themselves-gone to seed a'most as much as you-though you was bigger folks then they, that's true. Thank God, I was never of no family, and have nothing to be ashamed of in that way!" "Don't you be so sure o' that. From you nater 'tis my belief you've disgraced yourselves more than any o' us, and was kings and queens outright at one time." Tess turned the subject by saying what was far more prominent in her own mind at the moment than thoughts of her ancestry-"I am afraid father won't be able to take the journey with the beehives tomorrow so early." "I? I shall be all right in an hour or two," said Durbeyfield. It was eleven o'clock before the family were all in bed, and two o'clock next morning was the latest hour for starting with the beehives if they were to be delivered to the retailers in Casterbridge before the Saturday market began, the way thither lying by bad roads over a distance of between twenty and thirty miles, and the horse and waggon being of the slowest. At half-past one Mrs Durbeyfield came into the large bedroom where Tess and all her little brothers and sisters slept. "The poor man can't go," she said to her eldest daughter, whose great eyes had opened the moment her mother's hand touched the door. Tess sat up in bed, lost in a vague interspace between a dream and this information. "But somebody must go," she replied. "It is late for the hives already. Swarming will soon be over for the year; and it we put off taking 'em till next week's market the call for 'em will be past, and they'll be thrown on our hands." Mrs Durbeyfield looked unequal to the emergency. "Some young feller, perhaps, would go? One of them who were so much after dancing with 'ee yesterday," she presently suggested. "O no-I wouldn't have it for the world!" declared Tess proudly. "And letting everybody know the reason- -such a thing to be ashamed of! I think I could go if Abraham could go with me to kip me company." Her mother at length agreed to this arrangement. Little Abraham was aroused from his deep sleep in a corner of the same apartment, and made to put on his clothes while still mentally in the other world. Meanwhile Tess had hastily dressed herself; and the twain, lighting a lantern, went out to the stable. The rickety little waggon was already laden, and the girl led out the horse Prince, only a degree less rickety than the vehicle. The poor creature looked wonderingly round at the night, at the lantern, at their two figures, as if he could not believe that at that hour, when every living thing was intended to be in shelter and at rest, he was called upon to go out and labour. They put a stock of candle-ends into the lantern, hung the latter to the off-side of the load, and directed the horse onward, walking at his shoulder at first during the uphill parts of the way, in order not to overload an animal of so little vigour. To cheer themselves as well as they could, they made an artificial morning with the lantern, some bread and butter, and their own conversation, the real morning being far from come. Abraham, as he more fully awoke (for he had moved
in a sort oftrancesofar),began totalkof the strange shapes assumed bythevariousdark objectsagainstthe sky, of this tree that looked like a raging tiger springing from a lair, of that which resembled a giant'shead.When they had passed the little town of Stourcastle, dumbly somnolent under its thick brown thatch, theyreached higher ground. Still higher, on their left, the elevation called Bulbarrow or Bealbarrow, well-nighthehighest in South Wessex, swelled intothe sky, engirdled by its earthen trenches.From hereabout thelong road was fairly level for some distance onward. They mounted in front of the waggon, and Abrahamgrew reflective."Tess!" he said in a preparatorytone,aftera silence"Yes,Abraham.'"Bain't you glad that we've become gentlefolk?""Notparticularglad.""But you be glad that you'm going to marry a gentleman?""What?" said Tess, lifing her face."That ourgreat relation will help'ee tomarry a gentleman.""? Our great relation? We have no such relation. What has put that into your head?""I heard 'em talking about it up at Rolliver's when I went to find father. There's a rich lady of our familyout at Trantridge, and mother said that if you claimed kin with the lady, she'd put 'ee in the way ofmarryingagentleman."His sister became abruptly still, and lapsed into a pondering silence. Abraham talked on, rather for thepleasure of utterance than for audition, so that his sister's abstraction was of no account. He leant backagainst the hives, and with upturned face made observations on the stars, whose cold pulses were beatingamid theblack hollows above,in serene dissociation from these two wisps of human life.Heasked howfar away those twinklers were, and whether God was on the other side of them. But ever and anon hischildish prattle recurred to what impressed his imagination even more deeply than the wonders ofcreation, If Tess were made rich by marrying a gentleman, would she have money enough to buy aspyglass so large that it would draw the stars as near to her as Nettlecombe-Tout?The renewed subject, which seemed to have impregnated the whole family, flled Tess with impatience"Never mind thatnow!"sheexclaimed"Did you say the stars were worlds, Tess?""Yes.""All like ours?"- 17 -
- 17 - in a sort of trance so far), began to talk of the strange shapes assumed by the various dark objects against the sky; of this tree that looked like a raging tiger springing from a lair; of that which resembled a giant's head. When they had passed the little town of Stourcastle, dumbly somnolent under its thick brown thatch, they reached higher ground. Still higher, on their left, the elevation called Bulbarrow or Bealbarrow, well-nigh the highest in South Wessex, swelled into the sky, engirdled by its earthen trenches. From hereabout the long road was fairly level for some distance onward. They mounted in front of the waggon, and Abraham grew reflective. "Tess!" he said in a preparatory tone, after a silence. "Yes, Abraham." "Bain't you glad that we've become gentlefolk?" "Not particular glad." "But you be glad that you 'm going to marry a gentleman?" "What?" said Tess, lifting her face. "That our great relation will help 'ee to marry a gentleman." "I? Our great relation? We have no such relation. What has put that into your head?" "I heard 'em talking about it up at Rolliver's when I went to find father. There's a rich lady of our family out at Trantridge, and mother said that if you claimed kin with the lady, she'd put 'ee in the way of marrying a gentleman." His sister became abruptly still, and lapsed into a pondering silence. Abraham talked on, rather for the pleasure of utterance than for audition, so that his sister's abstraction was of no account. He leant back against the hives, and with upturned face made observations on the stars, whose cold pulses were beating amid the black hollows above, in serene dissociation from these two wisps of human life. He asked how far away those twinklers were, and whether God was on the other side of them. But ever and anon his childish prattle recurred to what impressed his imagination even more deeply than the wonders of creation. If Tess were made rich by marrying a gentleman, would she have money enough to buy a spyglass so large that it would draw the stars as near to her as Nettlecombe-Tout? The renewed subject, which seemed to have impregnated the whole family, filled Tess with impatience. "Never mind that now!" she exclaimed. "Did you say the stars were worlds, Tess?" "Yes." "All like ours?
"I don'tknow,but I think so.They sometimes seem tobelikethe appleson our stubbard-tree.Mostofthem splendid and sound--a few blighted.""Which dowe live on--a splendid one orablighted one?"A blighted one.""Tis very unlucky that we didn't pitch on a sound one, when there were so many more of'em!""Yes.""Is it like that REALLY,Tess?"said Abraham,turningto her much impressed,on reconsideration ofthisrare information."How would it have been if we had pitched on a sound one?""Well, father wouldn't have coughed and creeped about as he does, and wouldn't have got too tipsy to goon this journey,and motherwouldn't havebeen always washing,and never getting finished.""And you would have been a rich lady ready-made, and not have had to be made rich by marrying agentleman?""O Aby, don't--don't talk of that any more!"Left to his reflections Abraham soon grew drowsy. Tess was not skilful in the management of a horsebut she thought that she could take upon herself the entireconduct of theload for thepresent,and allowAbrahamtogoto sleep ifhe wished todo so. Shemade him a sort of nest in frontof the hives, in such amanner that he could not fall, and, taking the reins into her own hands, jogged on as before.Prince required but slight attention, lacking energy for superfluous movements of any sort.With nolonger a companiontodistracther,Tessfell moredeeply intoreveriethanever,herback leaningagainstthehives.Themuteprocessionpast hershoulders oftrees and hedgesbecameattachedtofantasticscenesoutside reality, and the occasional heave of the wind became the sigh of some immense sad soul,conterminous with the universe in space, and with history in time.Then, examiningthe mesh of events in her own life,she seemed toseethevanity of her father's pride;thegentlemanly suitor awaiting herself in her mother's fancy, to see him as a grimacing personage, laughingat her poverty, and her shrouded knightly ancestry. Everything grew more and more extravagant, and sheno longer knew how time passed. A sudden jerk shook her in her seat, and Tess awoke from the sleepinto which she, too, had fallen.They were a long way further on than when she had lost consciousness, and the waggon had stopped. Ahollow groan, unlike anything she had ever heard in her life, came from the front, followed by a shout of"Hoi there!"The lantern hanging at her waggon had gone out, but another was shining in her face-much brighter thanher own had been. Something terrible had happened. The harness was entangled with an object whichblocked the way.In consternation Tess jumped down, and discovered the dreadful truth.The groan has proceeded from herfather's poorhorse Prince.The morning mail-cart, with its two noiseless wheels, speeding along theselanes like an arrow, as it always did, had driven into her slow and unlighted equipage.The pointed shafi- 18 -
- 18 - "I don't know; but I think so. They sometimes seem to be like the apples on our stubbard-tree. Most of them splendid and sound-a few blighted." "Which do we live on-a splendid one or a blighted one?" "A blighted one." "'Tis very unlucky that we didn't pitch on a sound one, when there were so many more of 'em!" "Yes." "Is it like that REALLY, Tess?" said Abraham, turning to her much impressed, on reconsideration of this rare information. "How would it have been if we had pitched on a sound one?" "Well, father wouldn't have coughed and creeped about as he does, and wouldn't have got too tipsy to go on this journey; and mother wouldn't have been always washing, and never getting finished." "And you would have been a rich lady ready-made, and not have had to be made rich by marrying a gentleman?" "O Aby, don't-don't talk of that any more!" Left to his reflections Abraham soon grew drowsy. Tess was not skilful in the management of a horse, but she thought that she could take upon herself the entire conduct of the load for the present, and allow Abraham to go to sleep if he wished to do so. She made him a sort of nest in front of the hives, in such a manner that he could not fall, and, taking the reins into her own hands, jogged on as before. Prince required but slight attention, lacking energy for superfluous movements of any sort. With no longer a companion to distract her, Tess fell more deeply into reverie than ever, her back leaning against the hives. The mute procession past her shoulders of trees and hedges became attached to fantastic scenes outside reality, and the occasional heave of the wind became the sigh of some immense sad soul, conterminous with the universe in space, and with history in time. Then, examining the mesh of events in her own life, she seemed to see the vanity of her father's pride; the gentlemanly suitor awaiting herself in her mother's fancy; to see him as a grimacing personage, laughing at her poverty, and her shrouded knightly ancestry. Everything grew more and more extravagant, and she no longer knew how time passed. A sudden jerk shook her in her seat, and Tess awoke from the sleep into which she, too, had fallen. They were a long way further on than when she had lost consciousness, and the waggon had stopped. A hollow groan, unlike anything she had ever heard in her life, came from the front, followed by a shout of "Hoi there!" The lantern hanging at her waggon had gone out, but another was shining in her face-much brighter than her own had been. Something terrible had happened. The harness was entangled with an object which blocked the way. In consternation Tess jumped down, and discovered the dreadful truth. The groan has proceeded from her father's poor horse Prince. The morning mail-cart, with its two noiseless wheels, speeding along these lanes like an arrow, as it always did, had driven into her slow and unlighted equipage. The pointed shaft
of the cart had entered the breast of the unhappy Prince like a sword, and from the wound his life's bloodwas spouting in a stream, and falling with a hiss into the road.In her despair Tess sprang forward and put her hand upon the hole, with the only result that she becamesplashedfromfaceto skirtwiththecrimsondrops.Then shestood helplesslylookingon.Princealsostood firm and motionless as long as he could, till he suddenly sank down in a heap.By this time the mail-cart man had joined her, and began dragging and unharnessing the hot form ofPrince. But he was already dead, and, seeing that nothing more could be done immediately, the mail-cartmanreturnedtohis own animal,whichwas uninjured."You was on the wrong side," he said. "I am bound to go on with the mail-bags, so that the best thing foryou to do is bide here with your load, 'll send somebody to help you as soon as I can. It is gettingdaylight, and you have nothing to fear."He mounted and sped on his way, while Tess stood and waited. The atmosphere turned pale, the birdsshook themselves in the hedges, arose, and twittered; the lane showed all its white features, and Tessshowed hers,still whiter.The hugepool of blood in front of her was already assuming the iridescence ofcoagulation,and when the sun rosea hundred prismatic hues were reflected from it.Prince lay alongsidestill and stark, his eyes half open, the hole in his chest looking scarcely large enough to have let out allthathadanimated him"Tis all my doing--all mine!" the girl cried, gazing at the spectacle. "No excuse for me--none. What willmother and father live on now?Aby,Aby!" She shook the child, who had slept soundly through thewholedisaster."We can't go on with our load--Prince is killed!"When Abraham realized all, the furrows of fifty years were extemporized on his young face."Why,I danced and laughed only yesterday!" she went on to herself. "To think that I was such a fool!""Tis because we be on a blighted star, and not a sound one, isn't it, Tess?" murmured Abraham throughhis tears.In silence they waited through an interval which seemed endless. At length a sound, and an approachingobject, proved to them that the driver of the mail-car had been as good as his word. A farmer's man fromnear Stourcastle came up,leading a strong cob.He was harnessed to the waggon of beehives in the placeofPrince,and the load takenontowards CasterbridgeThe evening of the same day saw the empty waggon reach again the spot of the accident. Prince had lainthere in the ditch since the morning, but the place of the blood-pool was still visible in the middle of theroad, though scratched and scraped over by passing vehicles. All that was left of Prince was now hoistedinto the waggon he had formerly hauled, and with his hoofs in the air, and his shoes shining in the settingsunlight, he retracted the eight or nine miles to Marlott.Tess had goneback earlier,Howto break the newswas more thanshe could think.It wasa relieftohertongue to find from the faces of her parents that they already knew of their loss, though this did not lessenthe self-reproach which she continued to heap upon herself for her negligence.But the very shiftlessness of the household rendered the misfortune a less terrifying one to them than itwould have been to a thriving family,though in the present case it meant ruin, and in the other it would-19-
- 19 - of the cart had entered the breast of the unhappy Prince like a sword, and from the wound his life's blood was spouting in a stream, and falling with a hiss into the road. In her despair Tess sprang forward and put her hand upon the hole, with the only result that she became splashed from face to skirt with the crimson drops. Then she stood helplessly looking on. Prince also stood firm and motionless as long as he could; till he suddenly sank down in a heap. By this time the mail-cart man had joined her, and began dragging and unharnessing the hot form of Prince. But he was already dead, and, seeing that nothing more could be done immediately, the mail-cart man returned to his own animal, which was uninjured. "You was on the wrong side," he said. "I am bound to go on with the mail-bags, so that the best thing for you to do is bide here with your load. I'll send somebody to help you as soon as I can. It is getting daylight, and you have nothing to fear." He mounted and sped on his way; while Tess stood and waited. The atmosphere turned pale, the birds shook themselves in the hedges, arose, and twittered; the lane showed all its white features, and Tess showed hers, still whiter. The huge pool of blood in front of her was already assuming the iridescence of coagulation; and when the sun rose a hundred prismatic hues were reflected from it. Prince lay alongside still and stark; his eyes half open, the hole in his chest looking scarcely large enough to have let out all that had animated him. "'Tis all my doing-all mine!" the girl cried, gazing at the spectacle. "No excuse for me-none. What will mother and father live on now? Aby, Aby!" She shook the child, who had slept soundly through the whole disaster. "We can't go on with our load-Prince is killed!" When Abraham realized all, the furrows of fifty years were extemporized on his young face. "Why, I danced and laughed only yesterday!" she went on to herself. "To think that I was such a fool!" "'Tis because we be on a blighted star, and not a sound one, isn't it, Tess?" murmured Abraham through his tears. In silence they waited through an interval which seemed endless. At length a sound, and an approaching object, proved to them that the driver of the mail-car had been as good as his word. A farmer's man from near Stourcastle came up, leading a strong cob. He was harnessed to the waggon of beehives in the place of Prince, and the load taken on towards Casterbridge. The evening of the same day saw the empty waggon reach again the spot of the accident. Prince had lain there in the ditch since the morning; but the place of the blood-pool was still visible in the middle of the road, though scratched and scraped over by passing vehicles. All that was left of Prince was now hoisted into the waggon he had formerly hauled, and with his hoofs in the air, and his shoes shining in the setting sunlight, he retracted the eight or nine miles to Marlott. Tess had gone back earlier. How to break the news was more than she could think. It was a relief to her tongue to find from the faces of her parents that they already knew of their loss, though this did not lessen the self-reproach which she continued to heap upon herself for her negligence. But the very shiftlessness of the household rendered the misfortune a less terrifying one to them than it would have been to a thriving family, though in the present case it meant ruin, and in the other it would
onlyhavemeant inconvenience.IntheDurbeyfield countenancestherewasnothing ofthered wrath thatwould have burnt upon the girl from parents more ambitious for her welfare. Nobody blamed Tess as sheblamed herself.When it was discovered that the knacker and tanner would give only a very few shillings for Prince'scarcase because of his decrepitude, Durbeyfield rose to the occasion."No," said he stoically, "I won't sell his old body. When we d'Urbervilles was knights in the land, wedidn't sell our chargers for cat's meat. Let 'em keep their shillings. He've served me well in his lifetime,and I won't part from him now."He worked harder the next day in digging a grave for Prince in the garden than he had worked for monthsto grow a crop for his family. When the hole was ready, Durbeyfield and his wife tied a rope round thehorse and dragged him up thepath towards it, the children following in funeral train.Abraham and'LizaLu sobbed, Hope and Modest discharged their griefs in loud blares which echoed from the walls; andwhen Prince was tumbled in they gathered round the grave. The bread-winner had been taken away fromthem; what would they do?"Is he gone to heaven?"asked Abraham, between the sobs.Then Durbeyfield began to shovel in the earth, and the children cried anew. All except Tess. Her face wasdry and pale, as though she regarded herself in the light ofa murderess.Chapter5The haggling business, which had mainly depended on the horse, became disorganized forthwith.Distress, if notpenury, loomed in the distance.Durbeyfield was what was locally called a slack-twistedfellow, he had good strength to work at times; but the times could not be relied on to coincide with thehours of requirement, and, having been unaccustomed to the regular toil of the day-labourer, he was notparticularly persistent when they did so coincide.Tess, meanwhile, as the one who had dragged her parents into this quagmire, was silently wonderingwhat she could do to help them out of it, and then her mother broached her scheme."Wemust take the ups wi' the downs.Tess,"said she:"and never could your high blood have been foundout at a more called-for moment. You must try your friends. Do ye know that there is a very rich Mrsd'Urberville living on the outskirts o'The Chase,who must be our relation?You must go to her and claimkin,andaskforsomehelp inourtrouble."I shouldn't care to do that," says Tess. "if there is such a lady, 'twould be enough for us if she werefriendly--not to expect her to give us help.""You could win her round to do anything, my dear.Besides, perhaps there's more in it than you know of.I've heard what I've heard, good-now."The oppressive sense of the harm she had done led Tess to be moredeferential than she might otherwisehave been to the maternal wish, but she could not understand why her mother should find suchsatisfaction in contemplating an enterprise of, to her, such doubtful profit.Her mothermight have madeinquiries,and have discovered that this Mrs d'Urberville was a lady of unequalled virtues and charity.ButTess's pridemade the part of poor relation one of particular distaste toher.-20-
- 20 - only have meant inconvenience. In the Durbeyfield countenances there was nothing of the red wrath that would have burnt upon the girl from parents more ambitious for her welfare. Nobody blamed Tess as she blamed herself. When it was discovered that the knacker and tanner would give only a very few shillings for Prince's carcase because of his decrepitude, Durbeyfield rose to the occasion. "No," said he stoically, "I won't sell his old body. When we d'Urbervilles was knights in the land, we didn't sell our chargers for cat's meat. Let 'em keep their shillings. He've served me well in his lifetime, and I won't part from him now." He worked harder the next day in digging a grave for Prince in the garden than he had worked for months to grow a crop for his family. When the hole was ready, Durbeyfield and his wife tied a rope round the horse and dragged him up the path towards it, the children following in funeral train. Abraham and 'LizaLu sobbed, Hope and Modest discharged their griefs in loud blares which echoed from the walls; and when Prince was tumbled in they gathered round the grave. The bread-winner had been taken away from them; what would they do? "Is he gone to heaven?" asked Abraham, between the sobs. Then Durbeyfield began to shovel in the earth, and the children cried anew. All except Tess. Her face was dry and pale, as though she regarded herself in the light of a murderess. Chapter Chapter Chapter Chapter 5 The haggling business, which had mainly depended on the horse, became disorganized forthwith. Distress, if not penury, loomed in the distance. Durbeyfield was what was locally called a slack-twisted fellow; he had good strength to work at times; but the times could not be relied on to coincide with the hours of requirement; and, having been unaccustomed to the regular toil of the day-labourer, he was not particularly persistent when they did so coincide. Tess, meanwhile, as the one who had dragged her parents into this quagmire, was silently wondering what she could do to help them out of it; and then her mother broached her scheme. "We must take the ups wi' the downs, Tess," said she; "and never could your high blood have been found out at a more called-for moment. You must try your friends. Do ye know that there is a very rich Mrs d'Urberville living on the outskirts o' The Chase, who must be our relation? You must go to her and claim kin, and ask for some help in our trouble." "I shouldn't care to do that," says Tess. "If there is such a lady, 'twould be enough for us if she were friendly-not to expect her to give us help." "You could win her round to do anything, my dear. Besides, perhaps there's more in it than you know of. I've heard what I've heard, good-now." The oppressive sense of the harm she had done led Tess to be more deferential than she might otherwise have been to the maternal wish; but she could not understand why her mother should find such satisfaction in contemplating an enterprise of, to her, such doubtful profit. Her mother might have made inquiries, and have discovered that this Mrs d'Urberville was a lady of unequalled virtues and charity. But Tess's pride made the part of poor relation one of particular distaste to her