THE stroke of scorn relieved his mind, and the next morning he laughed at his self-conceit. But the laugh was not a healthy one. He re-read the letter from the master, and the wisdom in its lines, which had at first exasperated him, chilled and depressed him now. He saw himself as a fool indeed.
Deprived of the objects of both intellect and emotion, he could not proceed to his work. Whenever he felt reconciled to his fate as a student, there came to disturb his calm his hopeless relations with Sue. That the one affined soul he had ever met was lost to him through his marriage returned upon him with cruel persistency, till, unable to bear it longer, he again rushed for distraction to the real Christminster life. He now sought it out in an obscure and low-ceiled tavern up a court which was well known to certain worthies of the place, and in brighter times would have interested him simply by its quaintness. Here he sat more or less all the day, convinced that he was at bottom a vicious character, of whom it was hopeless to expect anything.
In the evening the frequenters of the house dropped in one by one, Jude still retaining his seat in the corner, though his money was all spent, and he had not eaten anything the whole day except a biscuit. He surveyed his gathering companions with all the equanimity and philosophy of a man who has been drinking long and slowly, and made friends with several: to wit, Tinker Taylor, a decayed church-ironmonger who appeared to have been of a religious turn in earlier years, but was somewhat blasphemous now; also a red-nosed auctioneer; also two Gothic masons like himself, called Uncle Jim and Uncle Joe. There were present, too, some clerks, and a gown- and surplice-maker's assistant; two ladies who sported moral characters of various depths of shade, according to their company, nicknamed "Bower o' Bliss" and "Freckles"; some horsey men "in the know" of betting circles; a travelling actor from the theatre, and two devil-may-care young men who proved to be gownless undergraduates; they had slipped in by stealth to meet a man about bull-pups, and stayed to drink and smoke short pipes with the racing gents aforesaid, looking at their watches every now and then.
The conversation waxed general. Christminster society was criticized, the dons, magistrates, and other people in authority being sincerely pitied for their shortcomings, while opinions on how they ought to conduct themselves and their affairs to be properly respected, were exchanged in a large-minded and disinterested manner.
Jude Fawley, with the self-conceit, effrontery, and APLOMB of a strong-brained fellow in liquor, threw in his remarks somewhat peremptorily; and his aims having been what they were for so many years, everything the others said turned upon his tongue, by a sort of mechanical craze, to the subject of scholarship and study, the extent of his own learning being dwelt upon with an insistence that would have appeared pitiable to himself in his sane hours.
"I don't care a damn," he was saying, "for any provost, warden, principal, fellow, or cursed master of arts in the university! What I know is that I'd lick 'em on their own ground if they'd give me a chance, and show 'em a few things they are not up to yet!"
"Hear, hear!" said the undergraduates from the corner, where they were talking privately about the pups
"You always was fond o' books, I've heard," said Tinker Taylor, "and I don't doubt what you state. Now with me 'twas different. I always saw there was more to be learnt outside a book than in; and I took my steps accordingly, or I shouldn't have been the man I am."
"You aim at the Church, I believe?" said Uncle Joe. "If you are such a scholar as to pitch yer hopes so high as that, why not give us a specimen of your scholarship? Canst say the Creed in Latin, man? That was how they once put it to a chap down in my country."
"I should think so!" said Jude haughtily.
"Not he! Like his conceit!" screamed one of the ladies.
"Just you shut up, Bower o' Bliss!" said one of the undergraduates. "Silence!" He drank off the spirits in his tumbler, rapped with it on the counter, and announced, "The gentleman in the corner is going to rehearse the Articles of his Belief, in the Latin tongue, for the edification of the company."
"I won't!" said Jude.
"Yes--have a try!" said the surplice-maker.
"You can't!" said Uncle Joe.
"Yes, he can!" said Tinker Taylor.
"I'll swear I can!" said Jude. "Well, come now, stand me a small Scotch cold, and I'll do it straight off."
"That's a fair offer," said the undergraduate, throwing down the money for the whisky.
The barmaid concocted the mixture with the bearing of a person compelled to live amongst animals of an inferior species, and the glass was handed across to Jude, who, having drunk the contents, stood up and began rhetorically, without hesitation:
"CREDO IN UNUM DEUM, PATREM OMNIPOTENTEM, FACTOREM COELI ET TERRAE, VISIBILIUM OMNIUM ET INVISIBILIUM."
"Good! Excellent Latin!" cried one of the undergraduates, who, however, had not the slightest conception of a single word.
A silence reigned among the rest in the bar, and the maid stood still, Jude's voice echoing sonorously into the inner parlour, where the landlord was dozing, and bringing him out to see what was going on. Jude had declaimed steadily ahead, and was continuing:
"CRUCIFIXUS ETIAM PRO NOBIS: SUB PONTIO PILATO PASSUS, ET SEPULTUS EST. ET RESURREXIT TERTIA DIE, SECUNDUM SCRIPTURAS."
"That's the Nicene," sneered the second undergraduate. "And we wanted the Apostles'!"
"You didn't say so! And every fool knows, except you, that the Nicene is the most historic creed!"
"Let un go on, let un go on!" said the auctioneer.
But Jude's mind seemed to grow confused soon, and he could not get on. He put his hand to his forehead, and his face assumed an expression of pain.
"Give him another glass--then he'll fetch up and get through it," said Tinker Taylor.
Somebody threw down threepence, the glass was handed, Jude stretched out his arm for it without looking, and having swallowed the liquor, went on in a moment in a revived voice, raising it as he neared the end with the manner of a priest leading a congregation:
"ET IN SPIRITUM SANCTUM, DOMINUM ET VIVIFICANTEM, QUI EX PATRE FILIOQUE PROCEDIT. QUI CUM PATRE ET FILIO SIMUL ADORATUR ET CONGLORIFICATUR. QUI LOCUTUS EST PER PROPHETAS.
"ET UNAM CATHOLICAM ET APOSTOLICAM ECCLESIAM. CONFITEOR UNUM BAPTISMA IN REMISSIONEM PECCATORUM. ET EXSPECTO RESURRECTIONEM MORTUORUM. ET VITAM VENTURI SAECULI. AMEN."
"Well done!" said several, enjoying the last word, as being the first and only one they had recognized.
Then Jude seemed to shake the fumes from his brain, as he stared round upon them.
"You pack of fools!" he cried. "Which one of you knows whether I have said it or no? It might have been the Ratcatcher's Daughter in double Dutch for all that your besotted heads can tell! See what I have brought myself to--the crew I have come among!"
The landlord, who had already had his license endorsed for harbouring queer characters, feared a riot, and came outside the counter; but Jude, in his sudden flash of reason, had turned in disgust and left the scene, the door slamming with a dull thud behind him.
He hastened down the lane and round into the straight broad street, which he followed till it merged in the highway, and all sound of his late companions had been left behind. Onward he still went, under the influence of a childlike yearning for the one being in the world to whom it seemed possible to fly-- an unreasoning desire, whose ill judgement was not apparent to him now. In the course of an hour, when it was between ten and eleven o'clock, he entered the village of Lumsdon, and reaching the cottage, saw that a light was burning in a downstairs room, which he assumed, rightly as it happened, to be hers.
Jude stepped close to the wall, and tapped with his finger on the pane, saying impatiently, "Sue, Sue!"
She must have recognized his voice, for the light disappeared from the apartment, and in a second or two the door was unlocked and opened, and Sue appeared with a candle in her hand.
"Is it Jude? Yes, it is! My dear, dear cousin, what's the matter?"
"Oh, I am--I couldn't help coming, Sue!" said he, sinking down upon the doorstep. "I am so wicked, Sue--my heart is nearly broken, and I could not bear my life as it was! So I have been drinking, and blaspheming, or next door to it, and saying holy things in disreputable quarters-- repeating in idle bravado words which ought never to be uttered but reverently! Oh, do anything with me, Sue--kill me--I don't care! Only don't hate me and despise me like all the rest of the world!"
"You are ill, poor dear! No, I won't despise you; of course I won't! Come in and rest, and let me see what I can do for you. Now lean on me, and don't mind." With one hand holding the candle and the other supporting him, she led him indoors, and placed him in the only easy chair the meagrely furnished house afforded, stretching his feet upon another, and pulling off his boots. Jude, now getting towards his sober senses, could only say, "Dear, dear Sue!" in a voice broken by grief and contrition.
She asked him if he wanted anything to eat, but he shook his head. Then telling him to go to sleep, and that she would come down early in the morning and get him some breakfast, she bade him good-night and ascended the stairs.
Almost immediately he fell into a heavy slumber, and did not wake till dawn. At first he did not know where he was, but by degrees his situation cleared to him, and he beheld it in all the ghastliness of a right mind. She knew the worst of him--the very worst. How could he face her now? She would soon be coming down to see about breakfast, as she had said, and there would he be in all his shame confronting her. He could not bear the thought, and softly drawing on his boots, and taking his hat from the nail on which she had hung it, he slipped noiselessly out of the house.
His fixed idea was to get away to some obscure spot and hide, and perhaps pray; and the only spot which occurred to him was Marygreen. He called at his lodging in Christminster, where he found awaiting him a note of dismissal from his employer; and having packed up he turned his back upon the city that had been such a thorn in his side, and struck southward into Wessex. He had no money left in his pocket, his small savings, deposited at one of the banks in Christminster, having fortunately been left untouched. To get to Marygreen, therefore, his only course was walking; and the distance being nearly twenty miles, he had ample time to complete on the way the sobering process begun in him.
At some hour of the evening he reached Alfredston. Here he pawned his waistcoat, and having gone out of the town a mile or two, slept under a rick that night. At dawn he rose, shook off the hayseeds and stems from his clothes, and started again, breasting the long white road up the hill to the downs, which had been visible to him a long way off, and passing the milestone at the top, whereon he had carved his hopes years ago.
He reached the ancient hamlet while the people were at breakfast. Weary and mud-bespattered, but quite possessed of his ordinary clearness of brain, he sat down by the well, thinking as he did so what a poor Christ he made. Seeing a trough of water near he bathed his face, and went on to the cottage of his great-aunt, whom he found breakfasting in bed, attended by the woman who lived with her.
"What--out o' work?" asked his relative, regarding him through eyes sunken deep, under lids heavy as pot-covers, no other cause for his tumbled appearance suggesting itself to one whose whole life had been a struggle with material things.
"Yes," said Jude heavily. "I think I must have a little rest."
Refreshed by some breakfast, he went up to his old room and lay down in his shirt-sleeves, after the manner of the artizan. He fell asleep for a short while, and when he awoke it was as if he had awakened in hell. It WAS hell--"the hell of conscious failure," both in ambition and in love. He thought of that previous abyss into which he had fallen before leaving this part of the country; the deepest deep he had supposed it then; but it was not so deep as this. That had been the breaking in of the outer bulwarks of his hope: this was of his second line.
If he had been a woman he must have screamed under the nervous tension which he was now undergoing. But that relief being denied to his virility, he clenched his teeth in misery, bringing lines about his mouth like those in the Laocoon, and corrugations between his brows.
A mournful wind blew through the trees, and sounded in the chimney like the pedal notes of an organ. Each ivy leaf overgrowing the wall of the churchless church-yard hard by, now abandoned, pecked its neighbour smartly, and the vane on the new Victorian-Gothic church in the new spot had already begun to creak. Yet apparently it was not always the outdoor wind that made the deep murmurs; it was a voice. He guessed its origin in a moment or two; the curate was praying with his aunt in the adjoining room. He remembered her speaking of him. Presently the sounds ceased, and a step seemed to cross the landing. Jude sat up, and shouted "Hoi!"
The step made for his door, which was open, and a man looked in. It was a young clergyman.
"I think you are Mr. Highridge," said Jude. "My aunt has mentioned you more than once. Well, here I am, just come home; a fellow gone to the bad; though I had the best intentions in the world at one time. Now I am melancholy mad, what with drinking and one thing and another."
Slowly Jude unfolded to the curate his late plans and movements, by an unconscious bias dwelling less upon the intellectual and ambitious side of his dream, and more upon the theological, though this had, up till now, been merely a portion of the general plan of advancement.
"Now I know I have been a fool, and that folly is with me," added Jude in conclusion. "And I don't regret the collapse of my university hopes one jot. I wouldn't begin again if I were sure to succeed. I don't care for social success any more at all. But I do feel I should like to do some good thing; and I bitterly regret the Church, and the loss of my chance of being her ordained minister."
The curate, who was a new man to this neighbourhood, had grown deeply interested, and at last he said: "If you feel a real call to the ministry, and I won't say from your conversation that you do not, for it is that of a thoughtful and educated man, you might enter the Church as a licentiate. Only you must make up your mind to avoid strong drink."
"I could avoid that easily enough, if I had any kind of hope to support me!"
怨气出了，他心里舒坦了。第二天早上，他一想自己那么狂妄自大，又大笑了一阵。不过他这笑是病态的、苦涩的。他又把院长来信看了一遍，字里行间的至理明言起先叫他大力气恼，这会儿却叫他寒了心，泄了气。他自认实在是个糊涂虫。
他在学问和爱情两方面的追求都让人勾销了，也就没心肠再去接着干活。每当他自认命中注定当不上大学生，心境逐渐平静下来时候，他跟苏之间绝无任何希望的关系就来搅扰他。他这辈子遇上的这个本来是内亲的意中人，因为他结过婚，已经完全落空，可是前尘旧影一直残酷地索绕在他心头，逼得他没法忍受。为了消愁解闷，他只好一头奔出去，寻找那真正的基督堂生活。在一个坐落在大院子里的不起眼的矮屋顶小酒馆，他找到了这样的生活。当地的一些名流也一样光顾那地方。要是在他平时心情比较畅快的时候，他顶多不过欣赏欣赏它的特殊情调，不过这会儿就不然了，他在那儿一坐差不多一整天，认定自己反正是生性下劣，没有指望，不可救药。
到了晚上，小酒馆的常客陆续光临了，裘德还是坐在屋角的座位上不动，钱已经花得一文不剩，整天只吃了块糕。他一副老饮客的派头，把酒时长，啜酒时慢，沉着老到，冷眼旁观，——觑着那帮子凑到一块儿的酒友。他还跟其中几个混得挺熟：算一算有潦倒的补锅匠泰勒，他原先专做教堂五金生意，那会儿信教信得挺诚的样儿，这会儿一开口就有点对教会不敬了；再就是酒糟鼻子的拍卖商；还有两个跟他一块儿干哥特式石雕的石匠，人称吉爷和乔爷。在座的另有几个小职员；一个专做长袍和法衣的裁缝的帮工；外号叫‘安乐窝”和“麻点子”的两个女人，她们的道德品味按搭配的变化，高下不等；几个号称赛马场上“懂道儿”的赌家；一个离开剧院走四方的艺人；两个没穿长袍、可又叫人认出来的大学生，他们偷偷溜进了酒馆，为小母哈巴狗的事跟一个人接头，赖着没走，跟刚提到的赌赛马的几位爷们在一块儿喝酒，拿短烟管抽烟，隔会儿就看看表。
聊着聊着，他们就聊到一般事情上了，批评基督堂的社会，对那些导师、地方官儿和其他大权在握的人物的缺点，实心实意表示了遗憾，同时对他们如何立身行事，如何得到应有的尊敬，也有所建言。在交流意见的时候，他们都抱着与人为善，不以个人成见为转移的态度。
裘德·福来在这中间也老脸皮厚，盛气凌人地插了嘴，他痛饮之余，脑子不乱，还是机敏样儿。他这人多年死抱住自己目标不放，所以不管别人议论什么，一到他嘴里，就三句话不离本行，扯到做学问和念大学的事情上，拼命吹嘘自己学问有多大。他要是在头脑清醒时候，见到自己这么出洋相，准要羞愧得无地自容。
“我他妈根本瞧不起大学里什么院长喽、学监喽。校长喽、研究员喽，还什么乌七八糟的文学士喽，”裘德不住嘴地说下去，“我可清楚得很哪，要是他们也给我个机会，我在他们那行里头，准把他们打得一败涂地；我再亮出来几手，叫他们大伙儿都看看，他们到这会儿连边儿也没沾哪。”
“说得对呀，说得对呀！”大学生在屋角上说，他们正背着人谈哈巴狗生意。
“我听说过你是看书没个完的。”补锅匠泰勒说。“你刚说的，我倒没什么不信的。可我想的就不一样啦。我向来觉着书外头的东西比书里头的东西多得多；我就是走这么个道道儿过来的，要不然我这会儿能这个样儿吗？”
“我猜你是一心想进教会吧？”乔爷说，“你真要是那么有学问，把希望标得那么老高老高的，干吗不给咱们露一手呢？你会讲拉丁文《信经》吗？有一回在咱们乡下，他们就这样给那个小伙子将了一军啊。”
“我想我讲得了！”裘德傲慢地说。
“别听他的！他净是瞎吹！”两个女人里头一个尖叫着。
“你把嘴闭上吧，安乐窝！”大学生里头一个说。“现在谁也别说话啦！”他把平底杯里的酒喝光，用杯子敲着柜台，大声宣布，“角上那位大先生要开导开导咱们大伙儿，用拉丁文背他的信条啦。”
“我才不干呢。”裘德说。
“好啦——就试试瞧嘛！”做法衣的说。
“你不行啊！”乔爷说。
“他行，他行！”补锅匠泰勒说。
“我他妈的就是行，不含糊！”裘德说。“好啦，那就来吧，拿一小杯加冰苏格兰威士忌过来，我马上就背。”
“挺公道嘛。’大学生说，把买威士忌的钱丢过去。
酒吧女招待把酒调好了，她那样儿就仿佛一个人跟一群劣等动物呆在一块儿。杯子传到裘德手上，他喝完了站起来，没一点犹豫，开始一字一板背起来：
“Credo in unum Deum,patrem omnipotentem.Factorem
coeli et terrae,visibilium omnium et invisibilium.”
“好哇！拉丁文呱呱叫嘛！”大学生之一大声喊，其实他连一个词的意思也不懂。
酒吧里的人屏息静听，女招待站着纹丝不动，裘德的洪亮的声音一直传进了后边的休息室，把原来在里边打盹的老板弄醒了，他跑出来要瞧瞧外面出了什么事。裘德毫不停顿地高声往下背：
“Crucifixus etiam pro pobis!sub Pontio Pilato passus,et
sepultus,est.Et resurrexit teria die,Secundum Scripturas.”
“你背的《尼西亚信经》嘛！”另一个大学生轻蔑地说，“我们要听《使徒信经》！”
“你懂个屁！除了你，连傻瓜都知道《尼西亚信经》才是顶有历史意义的信条哪！”
但是看上去裘德人已经迷乱了，他没背下去，手放到额头上，脸上出现了痛苦的表情。
“再给他来一杯好啦——他一喝，劲儿就缓过来啦，就背完啦。”补锅匠泰勒说。
有人丢出去三便士；酒传过来，裘德伸出胳臂接过来，连看都没看，就咕嘟嘟喝下去，紧跟着嗓音又有了劲，立刻接着背；到了快背完的地方，他把声音提高了，就像牧师领着会众祈祷：
“Et in Spritum Sanctum,Dominum et vivificantem,quiex
ex Patre Filioque procedit.Qui cum Patre et Filio Simul adoratur
et conglorificatur.Qui locutusest per prophetas.
“Et unam Catholicam et Apostolicam Ecclesiam.Confiteor
unum Baptisma in remissionem peccatorum.Etexspecto Resurretionem
mortuorum.Et vitam venturi sacculi,Amen.”
retionem mortuorum.Et vitam venturi saeculi.Amen.”
“背得好哇！”几个人说。他们最欣赏最后一个词，因为这是他们唯一听得懂的词。
裘德直勾勾地看着四下里的人，似乎一下子把闷在他脑子里的浊气发散出来了。
“你们这群笨蛋哟！”他大声叫道。“我说没说，我说了什么，你们哪个知道呀？可你们那稀里糊涂的脑袋瓜儿听来听去也听不出所以然，还直当我背的大概是《逮耗子人的闺女》那套胡说八道呢！瞧我把自个儿作践到什么地步啦——跟这些东西混到了一块儿啦！”
老板从前就因为收留过身份不明、行迹可疑的人，他的特许卖酒的执照已经记录在案，这会儿怕出事，赶紧跑到柜台外边。可是裘德的理性突然闪现了一下，厌恶地转过身来，离开了那个场面，把门砰地关上就走了。
他沿着小路急急忙忙走，转过弯到了又宽又直的大街上，又沿街一直走，岔进了大路，离开刚才那些酒伴的喧闹声已经老远了。他仍然朝前走，有如孩子常为渴望所催迫那样，去投奔世界上可能是唯一可以信赖的人，而这愿望却是完全违背理性的，但他的判断力显然已经麻木，无从想到由此产生的后果。他走了一个钟头（介乎夜间十点到十一点光景）进了拉姆登村，到了小房子前面，看到楼下房间有灯光，猜想就是她的灯光。果然不错。
裘德慢慢走近墙边，拿指头敲了敲窗玻璃，着急地说，“苏，苏！”
她一定听出来他的声音，因为灯光倏地没了，顷刻间，锁转了一下，门开了，苏手持蜡烛出现了。
“是裘德吧？哦，是嘛！我的亲爱的、亲爱的表亲呀，是怎么回事呀？”
“哦，我是——我管不住自己啦，苏呀！”他说，一屁股坐到台阶上。“我太坏啦——苏呀，我的心简直要碎啦，我再受不了从前那样的生活啦。我一直喝酒，欺神背教，不敬上帝，就算不这样，也差不多啦。还在些肮脏的地方讲圣道，呆里巴唧、胡作非为，翻来覆去说呀说的，那都是不该随便说的呀，要说也得毕恭毕敬地说才行啊！哦，苏呀，随便你拿我怎么办吧——我都不管啦。可是你千万别厌恶我，别瞧不起我，别像世上人那样厌恶我，瞧不起我呀！”
“你病啦，可怜的亲人！不会呀，我决不会瞧不起你，当然不会的。快进来休息休息吧，我来想怎么帮帮你好吧，靠着我好啦，不要紧。”她一只手拿着蜡烛，一只手搀着他，把他带到屋里，安置在那设备简陋的房子里唯一的安乐椅上，先把他的腿拉直，两只脚放在另一把椅子上，再把他的短靴脱下来。裘德到这时候开始有点明白过来，只能说，“亲爱的、亲爱的苏呀！”他的话因为伤心和悔恨而走了音。
她问他吃不吃点东西，他摇摇头。她就让他先睡觉，自己明天一大早下楼给他做早饭，然后道了晚安，上楼去了。
他差不多立刻酣然入睡了，醒来已经天亮。起初他不知身在何处，但是他逐渐明白过来自己真正的所在。他的心理这时已经恢复正常，看着眼前一切，不禁毛骨悚然。她已经了解了他身上坏透了的东西啦——真坏透了的东西啊。他怎么能再有脸见她啊？她等等就要照她说过的下楼做早饭，他可不能厚颜无耻地跟她见面啊。这一想，他真是受不了，赶快轻轻套上短靴，帽子原来由她挂上钉子上，他取下来戴好，悄没声地从房子里溜出去。
他拿定主意找个偏僻地方躲起来，也许还要在那儿祈祷，忽然间想到马利格林岂不就是这样的地方。他回了基督堂住处，发现等在那儿的是石作老板给他的一纸辞退通知。打点好衣物之后，他就不屑一顾地甩掉了那个给他添了无限苦恼的城市，大踏步向南走进了维塞克斯郡。他口袋里没剩下钱，幸好在基督堂一家银行里少许存款还原封未动，所以他这会儿只好靠两只脚走到马利格林。两地距离大约二十英里，这样也好，他倒有了充裕时间在路上把他已经开始恢复神智的行程同时完成。
不知晚上什么时候，他到了阿尔夫瑞顿。他在那儿当了背心，走到镇外一两英里处，就在一个干草垛子下边过了一夜。黎明时分他起来了，先把衣服上的草籽草秸抖落下来，然后起程赶路。那条老长的白晃晃大路，他从很远地方就望见了，硬撑着走上小山，下到丘陵地，总算把那条路走完了。路上还经过高处那块里程碑，几年前他曾在碑上镌下对未来的希望。
他到了古老的小村落，人们还在吃早饭呢。虽然他疲惫不堪，浑身灰土，头脑却已恢复到平日清晰的程度。他在井边上坐下来，思前想后，要按他于过的那一切，他算是多可怜的基督徒啊。近处有个水槽，他过去洗了一把脸，然后走到姑婆的小房子，看到她在床上吃早饭，跟她住一块儿的女人在伺候她。
“怎么啦——没活儿干啦？”他的长亲问道，她眼眶陷得很深，从耷拉下来的深重的眼皮底下勉强望着他。一个为吃穿苦苦忙了一辈子的人，用不着别的记号，一看他那狼狈样儿，自然都明白了。
“对啦，”裘德闷闷不乐地说，“我看我得休息会儿啦。”
吃了早饭，他精神有点恢复，就到楼上自己那间老屋子，把外衣一脱就躺下了。手艺人全是这个样。他并没睡多大工夫，一醒过来就觉着自己像才从十八层地狱里还了魂似的。那可真是个地狱啊——无论是他的野心还是他的爱情一齐葬送在“毫不含糊的失败的地狱”里了。他回想起来在他离开乡下这块地方之前掉进去的那个万丈深渊，当时还当是深得不能再深了，但是它还不如现在这地狱深呢。以前那仅仅是突破了他的希望的外围工事，这会儿是真真深入到内线来了。
如果他是个妇女，他准会因为这会儿经受的极度神经紧张而尖叫起来。然而他既身为男子汉，就不该用这样的办法来缓解痛苦。他伤心地咬紧牙关，嘴唇的线条犹如拉奥孔受罪时一样，眉心紧锁不开。
一阵凄恻的风吹过了树木，在烟囱里发出闷声，犹如脚踏风琴奏鸣的一个大音响；还吹得毁弃的教堂大院旧址墙头上蔓生的常春藤叶子轻快地互相拍打；新址上的新维多利亚一哥特式教堂的风信旗也开始猎猎作响。他听到低沉的轻微的声音，肯定绝对不是外面风刮出来的，是人在说话哪。他很快猜出来声音是从哪儿过来的，原来隔壁屋里牧师正同姑婆祈祷呢。他想起来始婆提到过这个人。过一会儿声音就没了，脚步声好像移到楼梯平台上。裘德坐了起来，喊着“嗨，嗨！”
脚步声朝他这边过来了，他的门本来开着，那个人探头往里瞧，正是年轻的牧师。
“我想你是何立志先生吧！”裘德说。“姑婆跟我提过你好几回呢。呃，我这是才到家；这个家伙变坏啦，不过有段时间存的心愿在这世界上倒是上上啊。我这会儿心里闷得快疯了，喝酒喝得没个完，还随便乱来。”
裘德对牧师一五一十地讲了他从前的计划和活动，没什么保留，不过无意之间也有所侧重，对以前求学问、向上爬那部分谈得比较少，对治神学部分谈得多些，虽然神学在他奋发图强的总纲领中只占有限的地位，而且就到说话这会儿也还是一样。
“我知道自个儿是个糊涂虫，一直糊糊涂涂过来的。”裘德又添了两句，算是讲完。“我上学的理想完全破灭了，我这会儿倒一点不为这个觉着可惜。就算我有把握上成了，我这会儿也不会另起炉灶啦。这会儿也再不想在社会上出人头地啦。不过我还是实实在在想总得干点好事。没进成教会，失掉当完全合格牧师的机会，我倒是万分遗憾呢。”
副牧师刚到这个居民点上，听他说完了，深感兴趣，最后说，“听你说了这些，我看你的确向往着圣职，因为有思想有教养的人才有这样的谈吐；要是你诚心诚意要这样，那么你还可以进教会当个有特许资格的讲道师，当然你先得把喝酒的毛病戒掉。”
“我但分还有点希望能挺下来，戒酒的事儿容易得很。”