Tess Of The D’Urbervilles Phase The Fifth-The Woman Pays.

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I just don’t know how to put it. Taking some words from this poem below, I will just say something.

 There is no anger in me, though there something that happenedwhich I can’t endure at this moment. In time I may come in terms withlife and probably will be able to endure it.

Here are the previous phases.

Tess Of TheD’Urbervilles. Phase The First–The  Maiden.

Tess Of TheD’Urbervilles-Phase The Second–Maiden NoMore

Tess Of TheD’Urbervilles-Phase The Third–The Rally.

Tess Of The D’Urbervilles Phase The Fourth–The Consequence.

The following poem is only half of the fifth phase. I broke this phaseinto two poems. The second part of this phase in which Tess goes into aplight to find work with the hopes and love is the most touching butthe most descrptive part of the novel. I have relied a lot on Hard’stext to write both poems. I will post the second part of the fifthphase sometime in the weekend.

TessOf The D’Urbervilles Phase The Fifth-TheWoman Pays.

In perfection silence performed the ballet,
After she finished her narrative,
Even the fire wood don’t crackle anymore,
Angel slowly stirred the fire,
Out of your mind are you? He asked Tess,
In a tone she never heard him speak,
The new-sprung child of nature he dreamt,
Now sitting at his foot for his mercy,
All the love that wrung up his heart in madness,
Among the rolls of candle smoke disappeared.

Tess on the floor, in tears, for forgiveness pleaded,
Though it was easy for her to forgive him,
All progressiveness abandoned Angel Clare,
He burst into to hellish laughter,
As declared he, that she is not the woman he loved,
But another woman in her shape.
Peasant by birth now peasant in words,
Tess could only repeat what Angel spoke,
At his legs again and again she pleaded,
And told him she’ll do anything he says,
Even if that is to lie down and die.
For which he told her to find harmony,
Between the present mood self-sacrifice,
And her past mood of self-preservation.

In Talbothays nothing stood between,
These two lovers in their love for each other,
Nothing in flesh and blood dared to question,
Such purest form of love they found,
Even Tess never thought that the character,
Of honesty can wipe away his love for her,
Leaving never ending streams of tears in her eyes.

Sarcastic remarks from Angel Clare,
And her pleading in her own distraction,
Saying things that would have better left to silence,
Her childish pleas went unheard,
Her justifications backfired,
Angel ended up calling her,
“The belated seedling of an effete aristocracy”.
To which she offered to end her life,
Leaving something to show her suicide,
For that he told her another mockery,
That he don’t want to add murder to his follies.

Tess went to bed alone, in grief.
Sadness, frustration and fear,
Consumed her into sleep,
In a chamber filled with the aromatic stillness,
A bride’s chamber once possibly,
Of her own useless ancestry.

Hellish were the days that followed,
Than anyone ever imagined,
Angel questioned her honesty in error,
Deep in his own conscience,
Where Tess had no advocate in defense,
And the gulf between them every hour widened.

How can we live together when that man lives?
Argued Angel Clare with convictions,
What if the future generations known,
About her past and what ill will come of it?
Angel questioned Tess.
Oh’ the same questions she should’ve asked,
But none came to that pure soul,
As every moment the rest of life she vowed,
To preserve the sanctity of their love.

What to do? What to do? To oneself, Angel asked.
Tess and Angel pushed through days,
Angel went to a nearby mill to learn,
The millers business for his future farm.
Tess engaged herself in kitchen work,
And in tears waited for Angel to return,
And he came back and saw her cook,
“You mustn’t work like this,
You are my wife not my servant” said he,
Indeed in name I am honored,
And don’t need anything more, said she,
What do you mean? Angel asked with no surprise,
Tess with all the strength and intelligence she can gather,
Told Angel holding her breath,
The respectability you looked for,
I didn’t have and told so long ago,
It is you who urged and urged,
Me to agree and she broke into sobs,
Any man but Angel Clare would’ve,
Had a melted heart in those sobs,
Like a vein of metal in a soft loam,
His logics deposited in his mind.

Tess lost her own cause,
When the matters of future generations came,
To Angel Clare’s view she agreed,
Oh’ what only hurts me now,
Will torture and kill me then, said she.
There were no more complaints,
And none were there to argue for their love,
Except on one occasion from Tess,
No advances from either to the other,
And for the one time for a kiss she wished,
Away he turned in unkindness,
The lips he once wished to kiss,
A kiss he always dreamt to fulfill,
Dissolved into thin air with the winter cold.

Irreconcilable became every word they said,
A future unbearable to think about,
Every bit of future he thought,
Filled with the purity of a virgin Tess,
Never he could imagine in a hoyden impure,
As every logic failed her in his mind.

In honesty Tess could not tell Angel to remain,
As his nightly somnambulistic raids,
Once took her to the nearby graveyard,
Which shook her beyond reason in belief,
For his own good and her safety,
That together they can’t stay.
O on that night in fate written,
When by strong influence,
Of some force disturbing,
Up to the chamber where Tess slept,
Angel Clare walked upstairs in his sleep.

Angel came near Tess and in sadness murmured,
‘Dead, dead, dead!’ “My poor Tess, my darling Tess,
So pure, so good and so true”.
Those words of affection in waking hours he withheld,
Filled her hungry heart and still like a doll she laid,
Waited to see what with her he was going to do.

“My wife, dead, dead!” said he,
As in a sheet Angle rolled Tess,
Like a dead body and out of the chamber carried,
Then for a moment he leaned with her against rails,
As if he was going to throw her downstairs,
But awake or asleep Tess’s confidence in him was deep,
She remained unmoved with a feeling of luxury,
Of Angel carrying her a second time in her life,
Than with any terror in her mind as she wished,
If they both could fall, how fit and how desirable.
But for her surprise he bended over and imprinted,
Upon her lips a kiss deep in her heart she felt.
Lips these days in daytime he scorned.

Angel in his sleepwalk, into the night carried Tess,
Towards the gushing river nearby,
Ah’ What Angel was dreaming Tess understood,
That old fateful Sunday morning when he carried,
All the dairymaids across the flooded roads,
The first time Angel touched Tess with affection,
Now though sleepwalking the same affection petrified her.

Though the bridge so narrow,
Angel in his sleepwalk still managed to cross,
Towards the old Abbey mill church,
Angel carried her to the graveyard,
Where in an old opened empty grave he laid,
Tess with utmost care and kissed her a second time,
Then laid down beside the grave into deep sleep.

The excitement in Tess drained away,
As the mild winter cold shivered,
Tess through light sheet Angel rolled her in,
Tess sat up in the coffin in thoughts,
And suddenly went to her husband,
And into his ear in a firm whisper said,
“Let us walk on darling” and his hand she took,
Like an obedient child Angel followed her,
And she took him back to the mansion,
Without much effort she laid Angel,
Upon his own sofa bed where he slept.

The next morning though Angel felt the weariness,
Nothing of the night Tess revealed,
As too much may be the feeling of embarrassment,
When in his unconscious what he did,
His common-sense disapproved,
And also the thought of a bit of pride,
Not to take advantage of an opening,
So narrow somewhere in his unconscious sleeps.

O’ that night though so bizarre,
The affections of Angel to Tess revealed,
Though only half an hour lasted,
Enough for a lifetime of memories.

Though Angle wanted not to initiate,
A separation between him and Tess,
Agreed he that it was better for them to part,
As alone he will be able to see things better,
And to Tess he promised that he will write,
Once his mind find a better shape of all he heard.

Angel to her one last time spoke,
Told her between them there was no anger,
Though there in his heart remain,
Something he cannot endure,
Which he will try to bring,
Himself to endure away from her.
He told her not to join him,
Until he will come and join her,
And write him she should,
Only in illness or in want.
Tess in pain only could repeat,
Some of his words in her acceptance,
And told him he best knows,
The punishment of her wrong,
But pleaded to him not to make,
The punishment more than she can bear,
And away they parted in to cold.

Angel at his departing wife looked,
As her carriage at the corner turned,
And said “God’s NOT in his heaven:
 all’s WRONG with the world!”.

Tess to her Marlott home went,
To the surprise of her mom,
Between the tearful sobs she told,
All that happened between her and Angel Clare.
Ever forgiving mother called her a fool,
For telling him her bygone past,
And they waited for Mr. Durbeyfield
The link between Tess and the D’Urberville chain.
Upstairs she went upon his arrival,
Joan told him about her return,
Anger and sadness filled his mind,
And in helplessness he asked his wife,
“D’ye think he really have married her?
-or is it like the first–“.
Slanderous doubts of her own dad,
Choked her inside her own home,
A few days she gave her there,
Until she got a note from Angel Clare,
Which as a precedence used, to join,
Her estranged husband sometime late,
And she once more bade farewell,
To her birthplace and all he loved.

Angel Clare back to the Vicarage went,
Where lie after lie he told,
To convince his mom and dad,
The spotless character of his darling wife.
Though many a time in his heart felt,
That he acted in haste and unkindness,
Still a strong dark cloud remained,
Covering reasons that can change his mind,
But his was not a heart with lead sealed,
As everything squeezed him in suffocation,
Far away to Brazil he decided to go,
And left the Vicarage with a heavy heart.

Angle to the old D’Urberville mansion went,
To settle rent and pick things left,
His heart pounded in the chamber Tess slept,
And the memory of the good times with her.
During his pleading of soliloquy,
There came in Izz Huett,
Another dairymaid at Talbothays,
She the one who loved him like Tess,
Who lost the run for his heart,
But now she came to see Angel and Tess,
On her way home from Talbothays,
That laid on the way to station Angel goes,
To her home a lift he offered,
And she went with him with thankfulness.
On the way he asked Izz Huett,
About the welfare of her and other dairymaids,
And he asked her will she go with him,
Leaving everything ever meant to her,
Against the will of law and morality,
Yes, in honesty she said,
Then he asked her if she still holds love for him,
Yes, again she said in her innocence,
Then Angel asked Izz, does she love him more than Tess,
For which “No” was the answer she said,
As none can love him more than Tess,
As Tess would’ve laid her life for him,
And she could do nothing more.
Her honest words in his ears echoed,
And in his heart and it spread to every vain.
The carriage to her home he turned,
And left her with his apologies.
Though on his way his heart again throbbed,
To go to Marlott and see Tess,
But still his dreams and hopes,
And convictions that tore him down,
Which all made him leave his wife,
Against which there were no defense,
Won another round of argument.
Five days after that day,
From London to his brothers he bade farewell,
Farewell to English lands and all he loved,
On his way to Brazilian lands.

(Continued…………)

Here is the text I followed. Tess Of The D’Urbervilles Phase The Fifth-The Woman Pays.

10 Replies to “Tess Of The D’Urbervilles Phase The Fifth-The Woman Pays.”

  1. Hey I think Im the first and second to comment. I have not read it, maybe I should, but I tend to stay away from classics. They just end in disappointment far too often. The last classic I actually enjoyed was 1984, and that was about 3 years ago. I guess there are different levels of classic books though. Maybe some day I will read it.

  2. In perfection silence performed the ballet,
    After she finished her narrative,
    Even the fire wood don’t crackle anymore,
    Angel slowly stirred the fire,
    Out of your mind are you?

    Pure perfection…

    -Emily

  3. Riaz, I’m not sure what’s going on in your life right now but I’m sorry that it’s bringing you down.  Here’s a little something I’ve learned from experience (and it took a long time): “what doesn’t kill you, makes you stronger”. Hang in there my friend and know that it will get better, it always does.  

  4. oh-my-goodness! i juz finished reading the story. it was soooo long it took me hours to read ur entry above to the last part. whew!!! but it was worth it though. i love the story. i was sooo touched by Tess’ letter to Angel and their love story. and i’m soooo sad with the ending… really heartbroken… *sniff* i juz want to cry… you are a great writer, sensie… great writer…

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