“We　don’t　require　it。　　If　I　go　furze…cutting　we　shall　be　fairly　well　off。”
  “In　parison　with　slaves；　and　the　Israelites　in　Egypt；　and　such　people！”　A　bitter　tear　rolled　down　Eustacia’s　face；　which　he　did　not　see。　　There　had　been　nonchalance　in　his　tone；　showing　her　that　he　felt　no　absolute　grief　at　a　consummation　which　to　her　was　a　positive　horror。
  The　very　next　day　Yeobright　went　to　Humphrey’s　cottage；　and　borrowed　of　him　leggings；　gloves；　a　whetstone；　and　a　hook；　to　use　till　he　should　be　able　to　purchase　some　for　himself。　　Then　he　sallied　forth　with　his　new　fellow…labourer　and　old　acquaintance；　and　selecting　a　spot　where　the　furze　grew　thickest　he　struck　the　first　blow　in　his　adopted　calling。　　His　sight；　like　the　wings　in　Rasselas；　though　useless　to　him　for　his　grand　purpose；　sufficed　for　this　strait；　and　he　found　that　when　a　little　practice　should　have　hardened　his　palms　against　blistering　he　would　be　able　to　work　with　ease。
  Day　after　day　he　rose　with　the　sun；　buckled　on　his　leggings；　and　went　off　to　the　rendezvous　with　Humphrey。　　His　custom　was　to　work　from　four　o’clock　in　the　morning　till　noon；　then；　when　the　heat　of　the　day　was　at　its　highest；　to　go　home　and　sleep　for　an　hour　or　two；　afterwards　ing　out　again　and　working　till　dusk　at　nine。
  This　man　from　Paris　was　now　so　disguised　by　his　leather　accoutrements；　and　by　the　goggles　he　was　obliged　to　wear　over　his　eyes；　that　his　closest　friend　might　have　passed　by　without　recognizing　him。　　He　was　a　brown　spot　in　the　midst　of　an　expanse　of　olive…green　gorse；　and　nothing　more。　　Though　frequently　depressed　in　spirit　when　not　actually　at　work；　owing　to　thoughts　of　Eustacia’s　position　and　his　mother’s　estrangement；　when　in　the　full　swing　of　labour　he　was　cheerfully　disposed　and　calm。
  His　daily　life　was　of　a　curious　microscopic　sort；　his　whole　world　being　limited　to　a　circuit　of　a　few　feet　from　his　person。　　His　familiars　were　creeping　and　winged　things；　and　they　seemed　to　enroll　him　in　their　band。　　Bees　hummed　around　his　ears　with　an　intimate　air；　and　tugged　at　the　heath　and　furze…flowers　at　his　side　in　such　numbers　as　to　weigh　them　down　to　the　sod。　　The　strange　amber…coloured　butterflies　which　Egdon　produced；　and　which　were　never　seen　elsewhere；　quivered　in　the　breath　of　his　lips；　alighted　upon　his　bowed　back；　and　sported　with　the　glittering　point　of　his　hook　as　he　flourished　it　up　and　down。　　Tribes　of　emerald…green　grasshoppers　leaped　over　his　feet；　falling　awkwardly　on　their　backs；　heads；　or　hips；　like　unskilful　acrobats；　as　chance　might　rule；　or　engaged　themselves　in　noisy　flirtations　under　the　fern…fronds　with　silent　ones　of　homely　hue。　　Huge　flies；　ignorant　of　larders　and　wire…netting；　and　quite　in　a　savage　state；　buzzed　about　him　without　knowing　that　he　was　a　man。　　In　and　out　of　the　fern…dells　snakes　glided　in　their　most　brilliant　blue　and　yellow　guise；　it　being　the　season　immediately　following　the　shedding　of　their　old　skins；　when　their　colours　are　brightest。　　Litters　of　young　rabbits　came　out　from　their　forms　to　sun　themselves　upon　hillocks；　the　hot　beams　blazing　through　the　delicate　tissue　of　each　thin…fleshed　ear；　and　firing　it　to　a　blood…red　transparency　in　which　the　veins　could　be　seen。　　None　of　them　feared　him。　　The　monotony　of　his　occupation　soothed　him；　and　was　in　itself　a　pleasure。　　A　forced　limitation　of　effort　offered　a　justification　of　homely　courses　to　an　unambitious　man；　whose　conscience　would　hardly　have　allowed　him　to　remain　in　such　obscurity　while　his　powers　were　unimpeded。　　Hence　Yeobright　sometimes　sang　to　himself；　and　when　obliged　to　acpany　Humphrey　in　search　of　brambles　for　faggot…bonds　he　would　amuse　his　panion　with　sketches　of　Parisian　life　and　character；　and　so　while　away　the　time。
  On　one　of　these　warm　afternoons　Eustacia　walked　out　alone　in　the　direction　of　Yeobright’s　place　of　work。　　He　was　busily　chopping　away　at　the　furze；　a　long　row　of　faggots　which　stretched　downward　from　his　position　representing　the　labour　of　the　day。　　He　did　not　observe　her　approach；　and　she　stood　close　to　him；　and　heard　his　undercurrent　of　song。
  It　shocked　her。　　To　see　him　there；　a　poor　afflicted　man；　earning　money　by　the　sweat　of　his　brow；　had　at　first　moved　her　to　tears；　but　to　hear　him　sing　and　not　at　all　rebel　against　an　occupation　which；　however　satisfactory　to　himself；　was　degrading　to　her；　as　an　educated　lady…wife；　wounded　her　through。　　Unconscious　of　her　presence；　he　still　went　on　singing：
  “Le　point　du　jour
  A　nos　bosquets　rend　toute　leur　parure；
  Flore　est　plus　belle　a　son　retour；
  L’oiseau　reprend　doux　chant　d’amour；
  Tout　celebre　dans　la　nature
  Le　point　du　jour。
  “Le　point　du　jour
  Cause　parfois；　cause　douleur　extreme；
  Que　l’espace　des　nuits　est　court
  Pour　le　berger　brulant　d’amour；
  Force　de　quitter　ce　qu’il　aime
  Au　point　du　jour！”
  It　was　bitterly　plain　to　Eustacia　that　he　did　not　care　much　about　social　failure；　and　the　proud　fair　woman　bowed　her　head　and　wept　in　sick　despair　at　thought　of　the　blasting　effect　upon　her　own　life　of　that　mood　and　condition　in　him。　　Then　she　came　forward。
  “I　would　starve　rather　than　do　it！”　she　exclaimed　vehemently。
  “And　you　can　sing！　I　will　go　and　live　with　my　grandfather　again！”
  “Eustacia！　I　did　not　see　you；　though　I　noticed　something　moving；”　he　said　gently。　　He　came　forward；　pulled　off　his　huge　leather　glove；　and　took　her　hand。　　“Why　do　you　speak　in　such　a　strange　way？　　It　is　only　a　little　old　song　which　struck　my　fancy　when　I　was　in　Paris；　and　now　just　applies　to　my　life　with　you。　　Has　your　love　for　me　all　died；　then；　because　my　appearance　is　no　longer　that　of　a　fine　gentleman？”
  “Dearest；　you　must　not　question　me　unpleasantly；　or　it　may　make　me　not　love　you。”
  “Do　you　believe　it　possible　that　I　would　run　the　risk　of　doing　that？”
  “Well；　you　follow　out　your　own　ideas；　and　won’t　give　in　to　mine　when　I　wish　you　to　leave　off　this　shameful　labour。　　Is　there　anything　you　dislike　in　me　that　you　act　so　contrarily　to　my　wishes？　　I　am　your　wife；　and　why　will　you　not　listen？　　Yes；　I　am　your　wife　indeed！”
  “I　know　what　that　tone　means。”
  “What　tone？”
  “The　tone　in　which　you　said；　‘Your　wife　indeed。’　It　meant；　‘Your　wife；　worse　luck。’”
  “It　is　hard　in　you　to　probe　me　with　that　remark。　　A　woman　may　have　reason；　though　she　is　not　without　heart；　and　if　I　felt　‘worse　luck；’　it　was　no　ignoble　feeling—　it　was　only　too　natural。　　There；　you　see　that　at　any　rate　I　do　not　attempt　untruths。　　Do　you　remember　how；　before　we　were　married；　I　warned　you　that　I　had　not　good　wifely　qualities？”
  “You　mock　me　to　say　that　now。　　On　that　point　at　least　the　only　noble　course　would　be　to　hold　your　tongue；　for　you　are　still　queen　of　me；　Eustacia；　though　I　may　no　longer　be　king　of　you。”
  “You　are　my　husband。　　Does　not　that　content　you？”
  “Not　unless　you　are　my　wife　without　regret。”
  “I　cannot　answer　you。　　I　remember　saying　that　I　should　be　a　serious　matter　on　your　hands。”
  “Yes；　I　saw　that。”
  “Then　you　were　too　quick　to　see！　No　true　lover　would　have　seen　any　such　thing；　you　are　too　severe　upon　me；　Clym—I　won’t　like　your　speaking　so　at　all。”
  “Well；　I　married　you　in　spite　of　it；　and　don’t　regret　doing　so。　　How　cold　you　seem　this　afternoon！　and　yet　I　used　to　think　there　never　was　a　warmer　heart　than　yours。”
  “Yes；　I　fear　we　are　cooling—I　see　it　as　well　as　you；”　she　sighed　mournfully。　　“And　how　madly　we　loved　two　months　ago！　You　were　never　tired　of　contemplating　me；　nor　I　of　contemplating　you。　　Who　could　have　thought　then　that　by　this　time　my　eyes　would　not　seem　so　very　bright　to　yours；　nor　your　lips　so　very　sweet　to　mine？　　Two　months—is　it　possible？　　Yes；　‘tis　too　true！”
  “You　sigh；　dear；　as　if　you　were　sorry　for　it；　and　that’s　a　hopeful　sign。”
  “No。　I　don’t　sigh　for　that。　　There　are　other　things　for　me　to　sigh　for；　or　any　other　woman　in　my　place。”
  “That　your　chances　in　life　are　ruined　by　marrying　in　haste　an　unfortunate　man？”
  “Why　will　you　force　me；　Clym；　to　say　bitter　things？　　I　deserve　pity　as　much　as　you。　　As　much？I　think　I　deserve　it　more。　　For　you　can　sing！　It　would　be　a　strange　hour　which　should　catch　me　singing　under　such　a　cloud　as　this！　　Believe　me；　sweet；　I　could　weep　to　a　degree　that　would　astonish　and　confound　such　an　elastic　mind　as　yours。　　Even　had　you　felt　careless　about　your　own　affliction；　you　might　have　refrained　from　singing　out　of　sheer　pity　for　mine。　　God！　if　I　were　a　man　in　such　a　position　I　would　curse　rather　than　sing。”
  Yeobright　placed　his　hand　upon　her　arm。　　“Now；　don’t　you　suppose；　my　inexperienced　girl；　that　I　cannot　rebel；　in　high　Promethean　fashion；　against　the　gods　and　fate　as　well　as　you。　　I　have　felt　more　steam　and　smoke　of　that　sort　than　you　have　ever　heard　of。　　But　the　more　I　see　of　life　the　more　do　I　perceive　that　there　is　nothing　particularly　great　in　its　greatest　walks；　and　therefore　nothing　particularly　small　in　mine　of　furze…cutting。　　If　I　feel　that　the　greatest　blessings　vouchsafed　to　us　are　not　very　valuable；　how　can　I　feel　it　to　be　any　great　hardship　when　they　are　taken　away？　　So　I　sing　to　pass　the　time。　　Have　you　indeed　lost　all　tenderness　for　me；　that　you　begrudge　me　a　few　cheerful　moments？”
  “I　have　still　some　tenderness　left　for　you。”
  “Your　words　have　no　longer　their　old　flavour。　　And　so　love　dies　with　good　fortune！