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Publié par
Date de parution
01 septembre 2021
Nombre de lectures
0
EAN13
9781783227365
Langue
English
Poids de l'ouvrage
2 Mo
Publié par
Date de parution
01 septembre 2021
Nombre de lectures
0
EAN13
9781783227365
Langue
English
Poids de l'ouvrage
2 Mo
Original by Thomas Hardy
Retold by Pauline Francis
ReadZone Books Limited
First published in this edition 2016
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without prior permission of ReadZone Books Limited.
© copyright in the text Pauline Francis, 2005 © copyright in this edition ReadZone Books Ltd 2016
The right of the Author to be identified as the Author of this work had been asserted by the Author in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
Printed in Malta by Melita Press
Every attempt has been made by the Publisher to secure appropriate permissions for material reproduced in this book. If there has been any oversight we will be happy to rectify the situation in future editions or reprints. Written submissions should be made to the Publishers.
British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data (CIP) is available for this title.
ISBN 978-1-78322-736-5
Visit our website: www.readzonebooks.com
Chapter One Leaving Home
Chapter Two Lost Innocence
Chapter Three Sad Times
Chapter Four In Love at Last
Chapter Five Pleasure and Pain
Chapter Six How to Tell the Truth?
Chapter Seven Tess Pays the Price
Chapter Eight Misery
Chapter Nine Haunted by the Past
Chapter Ten All Too Late
Introduction
Thomas Hardy was born in Dorset in 1840. His father, a stonemason, did not have enough money to pay for his son to attend university, so Thomas was apprenticed as an architect.
In 1874, he married Eleanor Gifford and designed a house for them called Max Gate, close to Dorchester, in Dorset, where he lived all his life.
Hardy saw himself as a poet rather than a novelist. As his poetry was not published until after many of his wellknown novels, he is better known for the novels, rather than his poetry.
These novels include Far from the Madding Crowd (1874); The Mayor of Casterbridge (1886); Tess of the d’Urbervilles (1892) and Jude the Obscure (1895). In Far from the Madding Crowd , Hardy gave his beloved Dorset the fictional name of Wessex, and used this name in many of his novels, including Tess.
Tess of the d’Urbervilles is set in the 1870s, in Wessex, during a time of great poverty. Tess’ parents, who are poor, have been led to believe that they are descendants of a noble Norman family, the d’Urbervilles. Tess is persuaded by her family to seek out a possible relative, a rich widow called Mrs d’Urberville. When the widow’s son, Alec, sees the innocent, young Tess, he pursues her. This leads to her ruin. She has an illegitimate baby, who dies. Tess’ past haunts her with devastating results.
The novel was much criticised at the time for its subject matter as well as its double standards. But it is now regarded by many as Hardy’s masterpiece. There have been many stage versions (Hardy wrote the first one in 1924), at least eight film versions and many television adaptations.
Thomas Hardy died in 1928, at the age of 87. His heart is buried in a churchyard close to Max Gate; but his ashes are buried in Poet’s Corner, Westminster Abbey.
CHAPTER ONE
Leaving Home
One evening in May, a thin, middle-aged man was walking back to his cottage in Marlott village. He was soon greeted by the parson, riding a grey mare.
‘Goodnight, Sir John,’ the parson said.
‘I’m only plain John Durbeyfield,’ the man replied surprised.
‘Some time ago, I was researching for a new county history and I saw that you are descended from the ancient family of d’Urbervilles,’ the parson explained. ‘They came from Normandy with William the Conqueror. Yes…yes…I can see that you have the d’Urberville nose and chin.’
‘So where do we d’Urbervilles live then?’ the man asked. ‘And how much land do we have?’
‘None,’ the parson replied, bidding him goodnight.
When he had gone, John Durbeyfield sat down on a grassy bank to think.
‘I am Sir John d’Urberville,’ he called out at last to a passing boy. ‘Go to the inn and have them send a carriage for me.’
A group of young women, dressed in white for the village May Dance, saw the carriage pass by.
‘Why, Tess Durbeyfield,’ one of them shouted, ‘there’s thy father riding home in a carriage.’
The young Tess, so pretty with a red ribbon in her dark brown hair, knew at once that her father was making a fool of himself.
‘He’s tired,’ she said quickly, her face flushing. expect he’s just got a lift home.’
As the May Dance began, three young brothers who were walking in the area, stopped to watch. The youngest, called Angel, danced with all the country girls except Tess. Then it was time for him to catch up with his brothers.
As he walked away, he turned round and noticed Tess, standing alone by the hedge.
‘How I wish that I had danced with her,’ he thought. ‘And how I wish I knew her name.’
Then he walked on, determined to put the girl out of his mind.
***
Tess stayed with her companions until dusk. She would have stayed later, except that she was anxious about her father and his strange behaviour. Her spirits sank as soon as she entered her cottage. After the sunshine and the bright white clothes, it looked so shabby and dingy in the yellow light of the candle.
Her mother stood surrounded by children and washing. She did not scold her daughter for not coming sooner to help. Her father had gone out again to the inn, trying to keep himself awake as he had to set off at midnight to deliver some beehives to Casterbridge market.
Mrs Durbeyfield told Tess the news about their rich ancestors.
‘Will it do us any good, mother?’ Tess asked.
‘Oh, yes,’ her mother insisted.
Tess’ mother went to fetch her husband back from the inn.
‘There’s a rich widow by the name of d’Urberville living towards Trantridge,’ she told him. ‘It’s my intention to send Tess to claim kin.’
It was Tess who had to set off for the market because her father was too drunk to go. But she fell asleep and drifted onto the wrong side of the track. The mail cart ran into them, killing their poor old horse.
Tess watched her father bury its body in the garden, her face dry and pale.