She did not know that Clare had followed her round, and that he sat under his cow watching her. The stillness of her head and features was remarkable: she might have been in a trance, her eyes open, yet unseeing. Nothing in the picture moved but Old Pretty's tail and Tess's pink hands, the latter so gently as to be a rhythmic pulsation only, as if they were obeying a reflex stimulus, like a beating heart.
她不知道克莱尔随后也来到了她的附近，也不知道他正坐在奶牛下面观察她。很明显，她的头和她的面目安详沉静：她似乎在那儿发怔出神，眼睛睁得大大的，但是却看不见。在这幅图画里，一切都是静止的，只有老美人的尾巴和苔丝粉红色的双手在活动着，那双手的活动是那样地轻柔，所以就变成了一种韵律的搏动，它们也仿佛正在按照反射的刺激活动，就像一颗跳动的心脏一样。

How very lovable her face was to him. Yet there was nothing ethereal about it; all was real vitality, real warmth, real incarnation. And it was in her mouth that this culminated. Eyes almost as deep and speaking he had seen before, and cheeks perhaps as fair; brows as arched, a chin and throat almost as shapely; her mouth he had seen nothing to equal on the face of the earth. To a young man with the least fire in him that little upward lift in the middle of her red top lip was distracting, infatuating, maddening. He had never before seen a woman's lips and teeth which forced upon his mind with such persistent iteration the old Elizabethan simile of roses filled with snow. Perfect, he, as a lover, might have called them off-hand. But no - they were not perfect. And it was the touch of the imperfect upon the would-be perfect that gave the sweetness, because it was that which gave the humanity.
在他看来，她的脸非常可爱。但是，那张脸上又没有超凡入圣的神情，全部都是真正的青春活力，真正的温暖，真正的血肉之躯。而这一切又全都集中到了她的嘴上。她的一双眼睛和他过去看见的一样，一直是那样深沉，似乎能够说话，她的面颊，也许还是像他从前见过的那样美丽；她的眉毛还是像从前见过的那样弯弯如弓，她的下巴还是像从前见过的那样棱角分明，她的脖颈也还是像从前见过的那样端正；然而她的那张嘴从前却没有见到过，不知道天底下有没有能同它相比的。她的中部微微向上掀起的红色上唇，就连最没有激情的青年男子见了，也要神魂颠倒，痴迷如醉，为之疯狂。他从前从来没有看见过一个女人的嘴唇和牙齿如此美妙，让他在心中不断地想起玫瑰含雪②这个古老的伊丽莎白时代的比喻。在他用一个情人的眼光看来，她的嘴和牙齿简直是完美无缺了。但又个是完美无缺——它们并不是完美无缺的。也正是在似乎完美无缺中显露出来的一点儿不完美，这才生出甜蜜来，正因为有了这一点不完美，也才符合人之常情。

②玫瑰含雪（roses filled with snow），出自托玛斯·坎皮恩的诗《樱桃熟了》：“看上去它们就像含雪的玫瑰蓓蕾。”