Chapter 21 Chapter Twenty

The seasons moved forward and matured.In the new year, flowers, leaves, nightingales, thrushes, goldfinches, and such short-lived creatures, appear in their respective positions that only a year ago had been replaced by other creatures. Occupy, and they are but germs and molecules of inorganic organisms.Under the light of the morning sun, the buds sprouted, long stalks grew, the juice rushed in the silent stream, and the petals burst open, releasing their fragrance in invisible spits and breaths. The men and women who milk the cows at Dairyman's Creek Dairy live comfortably, peacefully, and even merrily.Of all the jobs in society as a whole, theirs may be the happiest because they are still at it compared with those who have ended poverty, but they are not as good as the other class of people who because of To abide by social etiquette and start to suppress natural feelings, in order to catch up with the fashion and make ends meet, I have to bear the pressure of being stretched.

When trees seem to be the most concentrated thing outdoors, the season of foliage is over.Both Tess and Claire are inadvertently catching each other, always on the edge of a kind of passion, but they are obviously suppressing their feelings and preventing it from bursting out.Governed by the irresistible laws of nature, they are always coming together, much like two streams flowing together in a valley. Tess had never been happier in life in recent years, and probably never would be again.In the new environment, she felt very harmonious both physically and mentally.She was like a sapling that had taken root in the poisonous soil where it had been planted, and was now transplanted into the deep soil.Besides, she and Clare were still on the unsteady ground between affection and love; Where does it take me? What does it mean for my future? What does it mean for my past?"

So far Tess had seemed to Angel Claire to be nothing more than an accident—a warm rose-coloured phantom which, in his consciousness, had only just acquired the irresistible power of open nature.So he had to allow her to exist in his thoughts, thinking that his preoccupation was nothing more than a typical philosopher's attention to a woman who was extremely new, beautiful, and interesting. They went on seeing each other; they couldn't help themselves.They met each day in that new solemn hour, in the twilight of morning, in the purple or pink dawn; for here one must rise early, very early.The milking was to be done on time, and the cream had to be skimmed before the milking, and it all started just after three o'clock.They usually choose one among them by drawing lots, and this first person is awakened by an alarm clock, and then he wakes the others.As Tess's arrival was very recent, and it was soon discovered that she was not dependent on an alarm clock for sleep like the others, the task of waking was largely entrusted to her.As soon as three o'clock struck, Tess went out of the room, ran first to the master's door to wake the master, then went up the stairs to Angel's door, woke him up in a low voice, and finally called Wake up her girlfriends.By the time Tess had dressed, Clare had gone downstairs into the damp air outside.The other milkmaids, and the boss himself, usually stayed in bed a little longer, and did not show up until a quarter of an hour later.

In the hour of dawn and in the hour of twilight, although they are equally light and dark, their half-gray shades are not the same.In the morning twilight, the light is active and the darkness is passive; in the evening mist, it is the darkness that is active and growing, but the light that is drowsy and silent. Since they were often the first two risers on the dairy farm—probably never by chance—they felt they were the first two risers in the whole world.In the first days of Tess's stay here, she did not skim the cream, but she went out the door as soon as she got up, and Angel was always waiting for her outside.The semi-darkness, the mixed light and the mixed light and the watery light permeated the open grass, which left the impression on them of a feeling of loneliness, as if they were Adam and Eve.During this dim first part of the day it seemed to Claire that Tess seemed to exude a dignified dignity, both in character and in figure, which was almost a queenly power, and it may have been because he knew that, in appearance, It was rare for a woman of Tess's endowment and beauty to step out into the open air and within range of his sight at this singular hour; it was very rare in all England.In the midsummer dawn, the beautiful woman is always asleep.She was by his side, but he didn't know where to find other women.

They walked together to the place where the cows lay in this strange twilight of light and dark, which often reminded Angel of the time of the Resurrection.Little did it occur to him that perhaps a Magdalenian woman was walking beside him.While the whole scene was bathed in light and dark tones, the face of his companion became the center of his eyes' attention, emerging from the layers of mist with a seeming phosphorescence.She looked like a ghost, as if nothing but a free spirit.It was in fact the cool daylight from the northeast that fell on her face, though less clearly; and his own face, though it did not occur to him, appeared to Tess in the same light.

As said before, it was Tess who made the deepest impression on him from that time on.She was no longer a milkmaid, but an ethereal femininity—a typical image of all women.He called her Artemis and Demeter half-jokingly, and by other imaginary names, but Tess did not like it, because she could not understand them. ① Artemis and Demeter.Greek goddess.Artemis is the goddess of hunting; Demeter is the goddess of fertility and agriculture. "Call me Tess," she said, with a sideways look at him; and he did so. Later, as the day grew brighter, her face became only that of a woman; from the face of a goddess who gave blessings, it became the face of one who longs for blessings.

It was during these unearthly moments that they were able to get very close to the waterfowl.A flock of herons came flying with a loud cry like the opening of a door and a window, coming from among the woods where they usually roost beside the meadow; or, if they had come here, they decided Pause in the water, turn their necks slowly, horizontally, and unemotionally like some mechanized puppets turn, and watch the lovers walk past them. Later, they saw the thin summer fog, floating in layers on the grass, which had not yet dissipated, and the mist was like wool, spread flat on the ground, apparently not as thick as a bed cover.On the grass covered with white dew, there are imprints left by the cows lying down at night-in the vast sea of ​​dewdrops, they are some dark green islands formed by the grass, which are the same size as the cows' bodies. Between the islands, there is a winding path connecting them, which is left by the cows who got up and went out to graze. At the end of the path, a cow must be found; He let out a snort, and spewed out a burst of hot air, and in the middle of the large mist, a small thicker mist formed.Then they drove the cows back to the yard, or sat there and milked them, depending on the situation.

Sometimes, the summer fog fills the whole valley, and the meadow turns into a vast white sea, with a few sparse trees exposed inside, like dangerous reefs in the sea.Birds, too, would come out of the mist up to the glowing places high in the sky, and stop in mid-air to bask in the sun, or they would land on the wet railings that screened off the grass, and then the railings would shine like glass. Great same.Tess's eyelashes were also covered with fine diamonds formed by the condensation of floating mist, and the drops of water on her hair were like pearls.As the day grew brighter and the sun more common, the dew on Tess dried up; moreover, Tess lost her strange, ethereal beauty; her teeth, lips, and eyes were all in the sun. Twinkle, she's just a glamorous milkmaid again, having to hold her own to compete with other women in the world.

About this time they heard the voice of Creek, the dairyman, berating the workers who didn't live on the dairy for being late and old Deborah Fiander for not washing her hands. "My God, wash your hands under the tap, Deb! I'm sure Londoners would drink milk and butter better if they knew about you and how dirty you were." More careful now; I have said enough." As the milking went on, Tess, Clare, and the others heard Mrs. Crick dragging the heavy breakfast table from the kitchen wall as it was near the end of the milking. Routine; finished meal, cleared table, heard the same nasty screech as it was dragged back to its place.