Tess of the d'Urbervilles

One evening in May, John Durbeyfield, a poor peddler, was walking home along a country road with an empty basket on his arm.An old parson named Mr. Tringham rode by on his gray mare and called out, “Good evening, Sir John.”Durbeyfield stopped in his tracks. “Why do you call me Sir John? I’m plain Jack Durbeyfield, the peddler.”

The parson explained that, while researching old family records for the county history, he had discovered something surprising.“You are the last living descendant of the ancient and noble family of the d’Urbervilles,” he said.“Your ancestors were great knights who came to England centuries ago and once owned manors all across this county.”

Durbeyfield could hardly believe his ears. “Never heard such a thing in my life! And where do we d’Urbervilles live now, then?”“You don’t live anywhere as a noble family anymore,” the parson admitted. “Your line has died out. You’re extinct, as they say.”“That’s bad,” said Durbeyfield, though he could not stop smiling at the thought of his grand ancestors.

“And our old family houses and lands, where are those?” Durbeyfield asked eagerly.“Long gone,” the parson said. “Your family once held estates all through this part of England, but not one acre remains to you now.”“Well, and what ought I to do about it, sir?” Durbeyfield asked, scratching his head.

“Nothing at all,” the parson replied with a small laugh. “It’s merely a curious fact for the local historian — nothing more.”He wished Durbeyfield good evening and rode on, already regretting that he had mentioned the matter at all.Durbeyfield, however, sat down on the grassy bank beside the road, turning the astonishing news over and over in his mind.

When a boy happened to pass by, Durbeyfield called out grandly, “Take off your hat to me, boy — I am Sir John d’Urberville, lately discovered!”He sent the boy running ahead to fetch a carriage, for a descendant of ancient knights, he decided, was much too grand a man to walk home on his own two feet.