德伯家的苔丝 Tess of D’Urbervilles 英文原版 下载 pdf 百度网盘 epub 免费 2025 电子书 mobi 在线

小说讲述了生于一个贫苦小贩家庭的少女苔丝，先被一个富亲戚的少爷诱奸，后与牧师的儿子恋爱并订婚，在新婚之夜她把昔日的不幸向丈夫坦白，却没能得到原谅，丈夫离去。几年后，苔丝再次与少爷相遇，被其纠缠，因家境窘迫不得不与之同居，不久丈夫归来，表示悔恨。苔丝害怕第二次失去丈夫而愤怒地将少爷杀死。*后她被捕并被处以绞刑。

Contents

   Phase the First:    The Maiden

   Phase the Second:   Maiden No More

   Phase the Third:    The Rally

   Phase the Fourth:   The Consequence

   Phase the Fifth:    The Woman Pays

   Phase the Sixth:    The Convert

   Phase the Seventh:  Fulfilment

托马斯·哈代，英国诗人、小说家。哈代一生共发表了近20部长篇小说，代表作有《德伯家的苔丝》、《无名的裘德》、《还乡》和《卡斯特桥市长》等。

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她也许看清了是什么使她完全抬不起头来——是她心里以为人世间老在关心她的境遇——这种想法完全是建立在幻觉之上的。除了她自己而外，没有人关心她的存在、遭遇、感情以及复杂的感觉。对苔丝身边所有的人来说，他们只是偶尔想起她来。即使是她的朋友，他们也只不过经常想到她而已。如果她不分日夜地离群索后，折磨自己，对他们来说也不过如此——“唉，她这是自寻烦恼。”如果她努力快乐起来，打消一切忧虑，从阳光、鲜花和婴儿中获取快乐，他们就又会这样来看待她了——“唉，她真能够忍耐。”而且，如果她独自一人住在一个荒岛上，她会为自己发生的字情折磨自己吗？不大可能。如果她刚刚被上帝创造出来，一出世就发现自己是一个没有配偶而生了孩子的母亲，除了知道自己是一个还没有名字的婴儿的母亲而外，对其它的事一无所知，难道她还会对自己的境遇感到绝望吗？不会，她只会泰然处之，而且还要从中找到乐趣。她的大部分痛苦，都是因为她的世俗谬见引起的，并不是因为她的固有感觉引起的。

生活的重要性并不在于从外表看来他们的经历是否丰富，而在于从内心体验的角度看他们的感受是否深刻。生活对于一个敏感的农夫就要比对于一个感觉迟钝的国王来的宽阔、充实和激动人心。

'Never mind about the lords and ladies. Would you like to take up any course of study - history, for example?'

'Sometimes I feel I don't want to know anything more about it than I know already.'

'Why not?'

'Because what's the use of learning that I am one of a long row only - finding out that there is set down in some old book somebody just like me, and to know that I shall only act her part; making me sad, that's all. The best is not to remember that your nature and your past doings have been just like thousands' and thousands', and that your coming life and doings 'I'll be like thousands' and thousands'.'

'What, really, then, you don't want to learn anything?'

'I shouldn't mind learning why - why the sun do shine on the just and the unjust alike,' she answered, with a slight quaver in he...

生活的重要性并不在于外表看来他们的经历是否丰富，而在于从内心体验的角度看他们的感觉是否深刻。生活对于一个敏感的农夫就要比对于一个感觉迟钝的国王来得宽阔，充实和激动人心。

Was once lost always lost really true of chastity? she would ask herself. She might prove it false if she could veil bygones. The recuperative power which pervaded organic nature was surely not denied to maidenhood alone.

“为了过去的交情，再给我亲亲另一面吧。”

她同样被动地转过脸，就像是听从画师或者理发匠的要求似的。他亲了亲另一面脸，他的嘴唇所触到的面颊，湿润、光洁、冰凉，像周围田野里的蘑菇的表层一样。

编辑推荐

原汁原味的阅读体验

精心挑选的书目(5个不同的女性，5种不一样的人生闪烁着人性的光辉，任何时候都能给你启发，常读常新)

提高英语阅读水平的优秀读物

现代油画的封面，体现古典与时尚的结合。

精心设计的开本，便于携带和阅读。

书摘插图

Phase the First: The Maiden

I

On an evening in the latter part of May a middle-aged man was walking

homeward from Shaston to the village of Marlott, in the adjoining

Vale of Blakemore, or Blackmoor.  The pair of legs that carried him

were rickety, and there was a bias in his gait which inclined him

somewhat to the left of a straight line.  He occasionally gave a

smart nod, as if in confirmation of some opinion, though he was not

thinking of anything in particular.  An empty egg-basket was slung

upon his arm, the nap of his hat was ruffled, a patch being quite

worn away at its brim where his thumb came in taking it off.

Presently he was met by an elderly parson astride on a gray mare,

who, as he rode, hummed a wandering tune.

"Good night t'ee," said the man with the basket.

"Good night, Sir John," said the parson.

The pedestrian, after another pace or two, halted, and turned round.

"Now, sir, begging your pardon; we met last market-day on this road

about this time, and I said 'Good night,' and you made reply '_Good

night, Sir John_,' as now."

"I did," said the parson.

"And once before that--near a month ago."

"I may have."

"Then what might your meaning be in calling me 'Sir John' these

different times, when I be plain Jack Durbeyfield, the haggler?"

The parson rode a step or two nearer.

"It was only my whim," he said; and, after a moment's hesitation: "It

was on account of a discovery I made some little time ago, whilst I

was hunting up pedigrees for the new county history.  I am Parson

Tringham, the antiquary, of Stagfoot Lane.  Don't you really know,

Durbeyfield, that you are the lineal representative of the ancient

and knightly family of the d'Urbervilles, who derive their descent

from Sir Pagan d'Urberville, that renowned knight who came from

Normandy with William the Conqueror, as appears by Battle Abbey

Roll?"

"Never heard it before, sir!"

"Well it's true.  Throw up your chin a moment, so that I may catch

the profile of your face better.  Yes, that's the d'Urberville nose

and chin--a little debased.  Your ancestor was one of the twelve

knights who assisted the Lord of Estremavilla in Normandy in his

conquest of Glamorganshire.  Branches of your family held manors over

all this part of England; their names appear in the Pipe Rolls in the

time of King Stephen.  In the reign of King John one of them was rich

enough to give a manor to the Knights Hospitallers; and in Edward the

Second's time your forefather Brian was summoned to Westminster to

attend the great Council there.  You declined a little in Oliver

Cromwell's time, but to no serious extent, and in Charles the

Second's reign you were made Knights of the Royal Oak for your

loyalty.  Aye, there have been generations of Sir Johns among

you, and if knighthood were hereditary, like a baronetcy, as it

practically was in old times, when men were knighted from father

to son, you would be Sir John now."

Phase the First: The Maiden

I

On an evening in the latter part of May a middle-aged man was walking

homeward from Shaston to the village of Marlott, in the adjoining

Vale of Blakemore, or Blackmoor.  The pair of legs that carried him

were rickety, and there was a bias in his gait which inclined him

somewhat to the left of a straight line.  He occasionally gave a

smart nod, as if in confirmation of some opinion, though he was not

thinking of anything in particular.  An empty egg-basket was slung

upon his arm, the nap of his hat was ruffled, a patch being quite

worn away at its brim where his thumb came in taking it off.

Presently he was met by an elderly parson astride on a gray mare,

who, as he rode, hummed a wandering tune.

"Good night t'ee," said the man with the basket.

"Good night, Sir John," said the parson.

The pedestrian, after another pace or two, halted, and turned round.

"Now, sir, begging your pardon; we met last market-day on this road

about this time, and I said 'Good night,' and you made reply '_Good

night, Sir John_,' as now."

"I did," said the parson.

"And once before that--near a month ago."

"I may have."

"Then what might your meaning be in calling me 'Sir John' these

different times, when I be plain Jack Durbeyfield, the haggler?"

The parson rode a step or two nearer.

"It was only my whim," he said; and, after a moment's hesitation: "It

was on account of a discovery I made some little time ago, whilst I

was hunting up pedigrees for the new county history.  I am Parson

Tringham, the antiquary, of Stagfoot Lane.  Don't you really know,

Durbeyfield, that you are the lineal representative of the ancient

and knightly family of the d'Urbervilles, who derive their descent

from Sir Pagan d'Urberville, that renowned knight who came from

Normandy with William the Conqueror, as appears by Battle Abbey

Roll?"

"Never heard it before, sir!"

"Well it's true.  Throw up your chin a moment, so that I may catch

the profile of your face better.  Yes, that's the d'Urberville nose

and chin--a little debased.  Your ancestor was one of the twelve

knights who assisted the Lord of Estremavilla in Normandy in his

conquest of Glamorganshire.  Branches of your family held manors over

all this part of England; their names appear in the Pipe Rolls in the

time of King Stephen.  In the reign of King John one of them was rich

enough to give a manor to the Knights Hospitallers; and in Edward the

Second's time your forefather Brian was summoned to Westminster to

attend the great Council there.  You declined a little in Oliver

Cromwell's time, but to no serious extent, and in Charles the

Second's reign you were made Knights of the Royal Oak for your

loyalty.  Aye, there have been generations of Sir Johns among

you, and if knighthood were hereditary, like a baronetcy, as it

practically was in old times, when men were knighted from father

to son, you would be Sir John now."

媒体评论

“我不知道还有哪一部小说中爱情的痛苦、迷恋、残酷、执著，曾经如此令人吃惊地描述出来。《呼啸山庄》使我想起埃尔·格里的那些伟大的绘画中的一幅，在那幅画上是一片乌云下的昏暗的荒瘠土地的景色，雷声隆隆拖长了的憔悴的人影东歪西倒，被一种不是属于尘世间的情绪弄得恍恍惚惚，他们屏息着。铅色的天空掠过一道闪电，给这一情景加上*后一笔，增添了神秘的恐怖之感。”

——毛姆