还乡The Return Of The Native-第1节

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PREFACE


The　date　at　which　the　following　events　are　assumed　to　have　occurred　may　be　set　down　as　between　1840　and　1850；　when　the　old　watering　place　herein　called　“Budmouth”　still　retained　sufficient　afterglow　from　its　Georgian　gaiety　and　prestige　to　lend　it　an　absorbing　attractiveness　to　the　romantic　and　imaginative　soul　of　a　lonely　dweller　inland。
Under　the　general　name　of　“Egdon　Heath；”　which　has　been　given　to　the　sombre　scene　of　the　story；　are　united　or　typified　heaths　of　various　real　names；　to　the　number　of　at　least　a　dozen；　these　being　virtually　one　in　character　and　aspect；　though　their　original　unity；　or　partial　unity；　is　now　somewhat　disguised　by　intrusive　strips　and　slices　brought　under　the　plough　with　varying　degrees　of　success；　or　planted　to　woodland。
It　is　pleasant　to　dream　that　some　spot　in　the　extensive　tract　whose　southwestern　quarter　is　here　described；　may　be　the　heath　of　that　traditionary　King　of　Wessex—Lear。

July；　1895。



“To　sorrow
I　bade　good　morrow；
And　thought　to　leave　her　far　away　behind；
But　cheerly；　cheerly；
She　loves　me　dearly；
She　is　so　constant　to　me；　and　so　kind。
I　would　deceive　her；
And　so　leave　her；
But　ah！　she　is　so　constant　and　so　kind。”






BOOK　ONE
THE　THREE　WOMEN


1　… A　Face　on　Which　Time　Makes　but　Little　Impression


A　Saturday　afternoon　in　November　was　approaching　the　time　of　twilight；　and　the　vast　tract　of　unenclosed　wild　known　as　Egdon　Heath　embrowned　itself　moment　by　moment。　　Overhead　the　hollow　stretch　of　whitish　cloud　shutting　out　the　sky　was　as　a　tent　which　had　the　whole　heath　for　its　floor。
The　heaven　being　spread　with　this　pallid　screen　and　the　earth　with　the　darkest　vegetation；　their　meeting…line　at　the　horizon　was　clearly　marked。　　In　such　contrast　the　heath　wore　the　appearance　of　an　instalment　of　night　which　had　taken　up　its　place　before　its　astronomical　hour　was　e：　darkness　had　to　a　great　extent　arrived　hereon；　while　day　stood　distinct　in　the　sky。　　Looking　upwards；　a　furze…cutter　would　have　been　inclined　to　continue　work；　looking　down；　he　would　have　decided　to　finish　his　faggot　and　go　home。　　The　distant　rims　of　the　world　and　of　the　firmament　seemed　to　be　a　division　in　time　no　less　than　a　division　in　matter。　　The　face　of　the　heath　by　its　mere　plexion　added　half　an　hour　to　evening；　it　could　in　like　manner　retard　the　dawn；　sadden　noon；　anticipate　the　frowning　of　storms　scarcely　generated；　and　intensify　the　opacity　of　a　moonless　midnight　to　a　cause　of　shaking　and　dread。
In　fact；　precisely　at　this　transitional　point　of　its　nightly　roll　into　darkness　the　great　and　particular　glory　of　the　Egdon　waste　began；　and　nobody　could　be　said　to　understand　the　heath　who　had　not　been　there　at　such　a　time。　　It　could　best　be　felt　when　it　could　not　clearly　be　seen；　its　plete　effect　and　explanation　lying　in　this　and　the　succeeding　hours　before　the　next　dawn；　then；　and　only　then；　did　it　tell　its　true　tale。　　The　spot　was；　indeed；　a　near　relation　of　night；　and　when　night　showed　itself　an　apparent　tendency　to　gravitate　together　could　be　perceived　in　its　shades　and　the　scene。　　The　sombre　stretch　of　rounds　and　hollows　seemed　to　rise　and　meet　the　evening　gloom　in　pure　sympathy；　the　heath　exhaling　darkness　as　rapidly　as　the　heavens　precipitated　it。　　And　so　the　obscurity　in　the　air　and　the　obscurity　in　the　land　closed　together　in　a　black　fraternization　towards　which　each　advanced　halfway。
The　place　became　full　of　a　watchful　intentness　now；　for　when　other　things　sank　blooding　to　sleep　the　heath　appeared　slowly　to　awake　and　listen。　　Every　night　its　Titanic　form　seemed　to　await　something；　but　it　had　waited　thus；　unmoved；　during　so　many　centuries；　through　the　crises　of　so　many　things；　that　it　could　only　be　imagined　to　await　one　last　crisis—the　final　overthrow。
It　was　a　spot　which　returned　upon　the　memory　of　those　who　loved　it　with　an　aspect　of　peculiar　and　kindly　congruity。　　Smiling　champaigns　of　flowers　and　fruit　hardly　do　this；　for　they　are　permanently　harmonious　only　with　an　existence　of　better　reputation　as　to　its　issues　than　the　present。　　Twilight　bined　with　the　scenery　of　Egdon　Heath　to　evolve　a　thing　majestic　without　severity；　impressive　without　showiness；　emphatic　in　its　admonitions；　grand　in　its　simplicity。　　The　qualifications　which　frequently　invest　the　facade　of　a　prison　with　far　more　dignity　than　is　found　in　the　facade　of　a　palace　double　its　size　lent　to　this　heath　a　sublimity　in　which　spots　renowned　for　beauty　of　the　accepted　kind　are　utterly　wanting。　　Fair　prospects　wed　happily　with　fair　times；　but　alas；　if　times　be　not　fair！　Men　have　oftener　suffered　from；　the　mockery　of　a　place　too　smiling　for　their　reason　than　from　the　oppression　of　surroundings　oversadly　tinged。　　Haggard　Egdon　appealed　to　a　subtler　and　scarcer　instinct；　to　a　more　recently　learnt　emotion；　than　that　which　responds　to　the　sort　of　beauty　called　charming　and　fair。
Indeed；　it　is　a　question　if　the　exclusive　reign　of　this　orthodox　beauty　is　not　approaching　its　last　quarter。　　The　new　Vale　of　Tempe　may　be　a　gaunt　waste　in　Thule；　human　souls　may　find　themselves　in　closer　and　closer　harmony　with　external　things　wearing　a　sombreness　distasteful　to　our　race　when　it　was　young。　　The　time　seems　near；　if　it　has　not　actually　arrived；　when　the　chastened　sublimity　of　a　moor；　a　sea；　or　a　mountain　will　be　all　of　nature　that　is　absolutely　in　keeping　with　the　moods　of　the　more　thinking　among　mankind。　　And　ultimately；　to　the　monest　tourist；　spots　like　Iceland　may　bee　what　the　vineyards　and　myrtle　gardens　of　South　Europe　are　to　him　now；　and　Heidelberg　and　Baden　be　passed　unheeded　as　he　hastens　from　the　Alps　to　the　sand　dunes　of　Scheveningen。　
The　most　thoroughgoing　ascetic　could　feel　that　he　had　a　natural　right　to　wander　on　Egdon—he　was　keeping　within　the　line　of　legitimate　indulgence　when　he　laid　himself　open　to　influences　such　as　these。　　Colours　and　beauties　so　far　subdued　were；　at　least；　the　birthright　of　all。　　Only　in　summer　days　of　highest　feather　did　its　mood　touch　the　level　of　gaiety。　　Intensity　was　more　usually　reached　by　way　of　the　solemn　than　by　way　of　the　brilliant；　and　such　a　sort　of　intensity　was　often　arrived　at　during　winter　darkness；　tempests；　and　mists。　　Then　Egdon　was　aroused　to　reciprocity；　for　the　storm　was　its　lover；　and　the　wind　its　friend。　　Then　it　became　the　home　of　strange　phantoms；　and　it　was　found　to　be　the　hitherto　unrecognized　original　of　those　wild　regions　of　obscurity　which　are　vaguely　felt　to　be　passing　us　about　in　midnight　dreams　of　flight　and　disaster；　and　are　never　thought　of　after　the　dream　till　revived　by　scenes　like　this。
It　was　at　present　a　place　perfectly　accordant　with　man’s　nature—neither　ghastly；　hateful；　nor　ugly；　neither　monplace；　unmeaning；　nor　tame；　but；　like　man；　slighted　and　enduring；　and　withal　singularly　colossal　and　mysterious　in　its　swarthy　monotony。　　As　with　some　persons　who　have　long　lived　apart；　solitude　seemed　to　look　out　of　its　countenance。　　It　had　a　lonely　face；　suggesting　tragical　possibilities。　
This　obscure；　obsolete；　superseded　country　figures　in　Domesday。　　Its　condition　is　recorded　therein　as　that　of　heathy；　furzy；　briary　wilderness—“Bruaria。”　　Then　follows　the　length　and　breadth　in　leagues；　and；　though　some　uncertainty　exists　as　to　the　exact　extent　of　this　ancient　lineal　measure；　it　appears　from　the　figures　that　the　area　of　Egdon　down　to　the　present　day　has　but　little　diminished。　　“Turbaria　Bruaria”—the　right　of　cutting　heath…turf—occurs　in　charters　relating　to　the　district。　　“Overgrown　with　heth　and　mosse；”　says　Leland　of　the　same　dark　sweep　of　country。　
Here　at　least　were　intelligible　facts　regarding　landscape—far…reaching　proofs　productive　of　genuine　satisfaction。　　The　untameable；　Ishmaelitish　thing　that　Egdon　now　was　it　always　had　been。　　Civilization　was　its　enemy；　and　ever　since　the　beginning　of　vegetation　its　soil　had　worn　the　same　antique　brown　dress；　the　natural　and　invariable　garment　of　the　particular　formation。　　In　its　venerable　one　coat　lay　a　certain　vein　of　satire　on　human　vanity　in　clothes。　　A　person　on　a　heath　in　raiment　of　modern　cut　and　colours　has　more　or　less　an　anomalous　look。　　We　seem　to　want　the　oldest　and　simplest　human　clothing　where　the　clothing　of　the　earth　is　so　primitive。
To　recline　on　a　stump　of　thorn　in　the　central　valley　of　Egdon；　between　afternoon　and　night；　as　now；　where　the　eye　could　reach　nothing　of　the　world　outside　the　summits　and　shoulders　of　heathland　which　filled　the　whole　circumference　of　its　glance；　and　to　know　that　everything　around　and　underneath　had　been　from　prehistoric　times　as　unaltered　as　the　stars　overhead；　gave　ballast　to　the　mind　adrift　on　change；　and　harassed　by　the　irrepressible　New。　　The　great　inviolate　place　had　an　ancient　permanence　which　the　sea　cannot　claim。　　Who　can　say　of　a　particular　sea　that　it　is　old？　　Distilled　by　the　sun；　kneaded　by　the　moon；　it　is　renewed　in　a　year；　in　a　day；　or　in　an　hour。　　The　sea　changed；　the　fields　changed；　the　rivers；　the　villages；　and　the　people　changed；　yet　Egdon　remained。　　Those　surfaces　were　neither　so　steep　as　to　be　destructible　by　weather；　nor　so　flat　as　to　be　the　victims　of　floods　and　deposits。　　With　the　exception　of　an　aged　highway；　and　a　still　more　aged　barrow　presently　to　be　referred　to—themselves　almost　crystallized　to　natural　products