<ul id="8aumu"></ul>
  • <strike id="8aumu"></strike>
  • <ul id="8aumu"></ul>
    食品伙伴網(wǎng)服務(wù)號(hào)
     
     
    當(dāng)前位置: 首頁(yè) » 專業(yè)英語(yǔ) » 英語(yǔ)短文 » 正文

    JANE EYRE - CHAPTER XXIV

    放大字體  縮小字體 發(fā)布日期:2005-03-23

       AS I rose and dressed, I thought over what had happened, and

    wondered if it were a dream. I could not be certain of the reality

    till I had seen Mr. Rochester again, and heard him renew his words

    of love and promise.

       While arranging my hair, I looked at my face in the glass, and felt

    it was no longer plain: there was hope in its aspect and life in its

    colour; and my eyes seemed as if they had beheld the fount of

    fruition, and borrowed beams from the lustrous ripple. I had often

    been unwilling to look at my master, because I feared he could not

    be pleased at my look; but I was sure I might lift my face to his now,

    and not cool his affection by its expression. I took a plain but clean

    and light summer dress from my drawer and put it on: it seemed no

    attire had ever so well become me, because none had I ever worn in

    so blissful a mood.

       I was not surprised, when I ran down into the hall, to see that a

    brilliant June morning had succeeded to the tempest of the night;

    and to feel, through the open glass door, the breathing of a fresh and

    fragrant breeze. Nature must be gladsome when I was so happy. A

    beggar-woman and her little boy- pale, ragged objects both- were

    coming up the walk, and I ran down and gave them all the money I

    happened to have in my purse- some three or four shillings: good or

    bad, they must partake of my jubilee. The rooks cawed, and blither

    birds sang; but nothing was so merry or so musical as my own rejoicing

    heart.

       Mrs. Fairfax surprised me by looking out of the window with a sad

    countenance, and saying gravely- 'Miss Eyre, will you come to

    breakfast?' During the meal she was quiet and cool: but I could not

    undeceive her then. I must wait for my master to give explanations;

    and so must she. I ate what I could, and then I hastened upstairs. I

    met Adele leaving the schoolroom.

       'Where are you going? It is time for lessons.'

       'Mr. Rochester has sent me away to the nursery.'

       'Where is he?'

       'In there,' pointing to the apartment she had left; and I went

    in, and there he stood.

       'Come and bid me good-morning,' said he. I gladly advanced; and

    it was not merely a cold word now, or even a shake of the hand that

    I received, but an embrace and a kiss. It seemed natural: it seemed

    genial to be so well loved, so caressed by him.

       'Jane, you look blooming, and smiling, and pretty,' said he: 'truly

    pretty this morning. Is this my pale, little elf? Is this my

    mustard-seed? This little sunny-faced girl with the dimpled cheek

    and rosy lips; the satin-smooth hazel hair, and the radiant hazel

    eyes?' (I had green eyes, reader; but you must excuse the mistake: for

    him they were new-dyed, I suppose.)

       'It is Jane Eyre, sir.'

       'Soon to be Jane Rochester,' he added: 'in four weeks, Janet; not a

    day more. Do you hear that?'

       I did, and I could not quite comprehend it: it made me giddy. The

    feeling, the announcement sent through me, was something stronger than

    was consistent with joy- something that smote and stunned: it was, I

    think, almost fear.

       'You blushed, and now you are white, Jane: what is that for?'

       'Because you gave me a new name- Jane Rochester; and it seems so

    strange.'

       'Yes, Mrs. Rochester,' said he; 'young Mrs. Rochester- Fairfax

    Rochester's girl-bride.'

       'It can never be, sir; it does not sound likely. Human beings never

    enjoy complete happiness in this world. I was not born for a different

    destiny to the rest of my species: to imagine such a lot befalling

    me is a fairy tale- a day-dream.'

       'Which I can and will realise. I shall begin to-day. This morning I

    wrote to my banker in London to send me certain jewels he has in his

    keeping,- heirlooms for the ladies of Thornfield. In a day or two I

    hope to pour them into your lap: for every privilege, every

    attention shall be yours that I would accord a peer's daughter, if

    about to marry her.'

       'Oh, sir!- never mind jewels! I don't like to hear them spoken

    of. Jewels for Jane Eyre sounds unnatural and strange: I would

    rather not have them.'

       'I will myself put the diamond chain round your neck, and the

    circlet on your forehead,- which it will become: for nature, at least,

    has stamped her patent of nobility on this brow, Jane; and I will

    clasp the bracelets on these fine wrists, and load these fairy-like

    fingers with rings.'

       'No, no, sir! think of other subjects, and speak of other things,

    and in another strain. Don't address me as if I were a beauty; I am

    your plain, Quakerish governess.'

       'You are a beauty in my eyes, and a beauty just after the desire of

    my heart,- delicate and aerial.'

       'Puny and insignificant, you mean. You are dreaming, sir,- or you

    are sneering. For God's sake, don't be ironical!'

       'I will make the world acknowledge you a beauty, too,' he went

    on, while I really became uneasy at the strain he had adopted, because

    I felt he was either deluding himself or trying to delude me. 'I

    will attire my Jane in satin and lace, and she shall have roses in her

    hair; and I will cover the head I love best with a priceless veil.'

       'And then you won't know me, sir; and I shall not be your Jane Eyre

    any longer, but an ape in a harlequin's jacket- a jay in borrowed

    plumes. I would as soon see you, Mr. Rochester, tricked out in

    stage-trappings, as myself clad in a court-lady's robe; and I don't

    call you handsome, sir, though I love you most dearly: far too

    dearly to flatter you. Don't flatter me.'

       He pursued his theme, however, without noticing my deprecation.

    'This very day I shall take you in the carriage to Millcote, and you

    must choose some dresses for yourself. I told you we shall be

    married in four weeks. The wedding is to take place quietly, in the

    church down below yonder; and then I shall waft you away at once to

    town. After a brief stay there, I shall bear my treasure to regions

    nearer the sun: to French vineyards and Italian plains; and she

    shall see whatever is famous in old story and in modern record: she

    shall taste, too, of the life of cities; and she shall learn to

    value herself by just comparison with others.'

       'Shall I travel?- and with you, sir?'

       'You shall sojourn at Paris, Rome, and Naples: at Florence, Venice,

    and Vienna: all the ground I have wandered over shall be re-trodden by

    you: wherever I stamped my hoof, your sylph's foot shall step also.

    Ten years since, I flew through Europe half mad; with disgust, hate,

    and rage as my companions: now I shall revisit it healed and

    cleaned, with a very angel as my comforter.'

       I laughed at him as he said this. 'I am not an angel,' I

    asserted; 'and I will not be one till I die: I will be myself. Mr.

    Rochester, you must neither expect nor exact anything celestial of me-

    for you will not get it, any more than I shall get it of you: which

    I do not at all anticipate.'

       'What do you anticipate of me?'

       'For a little while you will perhaps be as you are now,- a very

    little while; and then you will turn cool; and then you will be

    capricious; and then you will be stern, and I shall have much ado to

    please you: but when you get well used to me, you will perhaps like me

    again,- like me, I say, not love me. I suppose your love will

    effervesce in six months, or less. I have observed in books written by

    men, that period assigned as the farthest to which a husband's

    ardour extends. Yet, after all, as a friend and companion, I hope

    never to become quite distasteful to my dear master.'

       'Distasteful! and like you again! I think I shall like you again,

    and yet again: and I will make you confess I do not only like, but

    love you- with truth, fervour, constancy.'

       'Yet are you not capricious, sir?'

       'To women who please me only by their faces, I am the very devil

    when I find out they have neither souls nor hearts- when they open

    to me a perspective of flatness, triviality, and perhaps imbecility,

    coarseness, and ill-temper: but to the clear eye and eloquent

    tongue, to the soul made of fire, and the character that bends but

    does not break- at once supple and stable, tractable and consistent- I

    am ever tender and true.'

       'Had you ever experience of such a character, sir? Did you ever

    love such an one?'

       'I love it now.'

       'But before me: if I, indeed, in any respect come up to your

    difficult standard?'

       'I never met your likeness. Jane, you please me, and you master me-

    you seem to submit, and I like the sense of pliancy you impart; and

    while I am twining the soft, silken skein round my finger, it sends

    a thrill up my arm to my heart. I am influenced- conquered; and the

    influence is sweeter than I can express; and the conquest I undergo

    has a witchery beyond any triumph I can win. Why do you smile, Jane?

    What does that inexplicable, that uncanny turn of countenance mean?'

       'I was thinking, sir (you will excuse the idea; it was

    involuntary), I was thinking of Hercules and Samson with their

    charmers-'

       'You were, you little elfish-'

       'Hush, sir! You don't talk very wisely just now; any more than

    those gentlemen acted very wisely. However, had they been married,

    they would no doubt by their severity as husbands have made up for

    their softness as suitors; and so will you, I fear. I wonder how you

    will answer me a year hence, should I ask a favour it does not suit

    your convenience or pleasure to grant.'

       'Ask me something now, Janet- the least thing: I desire to be

    entreated-'

       'Indeed I will sir; I have my petition all ready.'

       'Speak! But if you look up and smile with that countenance, I shall

    swear concession before I know to what, and that will make a fool of

    me.'

       'Not at all, sir; I ask only this: don't send for the jewels, and

    don't crown me with roses: you might as well put a border of gold lace

    round that plain pocket-handkerchief you have there.'

       'I might as well "gild refined gold." I know it: your request is

    granted then- for the time. I will remand the order I despatched to my

    banker. But you have not yet asked for anything; you have prayed a

    gift to be withdrawn: try again.'

       'Well, then, sir, have the goodness to gratify my curiosity,

    which is much piqued on one point.'

       He looked disturbed. 'What? what?' he said hastily. 'Curiosity is a

    dangerous petition: it is well I have not taken a vow to accord

    every request-'

       'But there can be no danger in complying with this, sir.'

       'Utter it, Jane: but I wish that instead of a mere inquiry into,

    perhaps, a secret, it was a wish for half my estate.'

       'Now, King Ahasuerus! What do I want with half your estate? Do

    you think I am a Jew-usurer, seeking good investment in land? I

    would much rather have all your confidence. You will not exclude me

    from your confidence if you admit me to your heart?'

       'You are welcome to all my confidence that is worth having, Jane;

    but for God's sake, don't desire a useless burden! Don't long for

    poison- don't turn out a downright Eve on my hands!'

       'Why not, sir? You have just been telling me how much you liked

    to be conquered, and how pleasant over-persuasion is to you. Don't you

    think I had better take advantage of the confession, and begin and

    coax and entreat- even cry and be sulky if necessary- for the sake

    of a mere essay of my power?'

       'I dare you to any such experiment. Encroach, presume, and the game

    is up.'

       'Is it, sir? You soon give in. How stern you look now! Your

    eyebrows have become as thick as my finger, and your forehead

    resembles what, in some very astonishing poetry, I once saw styled, "a

    blue-piled thunderloft." That will be your married look, sir, I

    suppose?'

       'If that will be your married look, I, as a Christian, will soon

    give up the notion of consorting with a mere sprite or salamander. But

    what had you to ask, thing,- out with it?'

       'There, you are less than civil now; and I like rudeness a great

    deal better than flattery. I had rather be a thing than an angel. This

    is what I have to ask,- Why did you take such pains to make me believe

    you wished to marry Miss Ingram?'

       'Is that all? Thank God it is no worse!' And now he unknit his

    black brows; looked down, smiling at me, and stroked my hair, as if

    well pleased at seeing a danger averted. 'I think I may confess,' he

    continued, 'even although I should make you a little indignant,

    Jane- and I have seen what a fire-spirit you can be when you are

    indignant. You glowed in the cool moonlight last night, when you

    mutinied against fate, and claimed your rank as my equal. Janet, by

    the bye, it was you who made me the offer.'

       'Of course I did. But to the point if you please, sir- Miss

    Ingram?'

       'Well, I feigned courtship of Miss Ingram, because I wished to

    render you as madly in love with me as I was with you; and I knew

    jealousy would be the best ally I could call in for the furtherance of

    that end.'

       'Excellent! Now you are small- not one whit bigger than the end

    of my little finger. It was a burning shame and a scandalous

    disgrace to act in that way. Did you think nothing of Miss Ingram's

    feelings, sir?'

       'Her feelings are concentrated in one- pride; and that needs

    humbling. Were you jealous, Jane?'

       'Never mind, Mr. Rochester: it is in no way interesting to you to

    know that. Answer me truly once more. Do you think Miss Ingram will

    not suffer from your dishonest coquetry? Won't she feel forsaken and

    deserted?'

       'Impossible!- when I told you how she, on the contrary, deserted

    me: the idea of my insolvency cooled, or rather extinguished, her

    flame in a moment.'

       'You have a curious, designing mind, Mr. Rochester. I am afraid

    your principles on some points are eccentric.'

       'My principles were never trained, Jane: they may have grown a

    little awry for want of attention.'

       'Once again, seriously; may I enjoy the great good that has been

    vouchsafed to me, without fearing that any one else is suffering the

    bitter pain I myself felt a while ago?'

       'That you may, my good little girl: there is not another being in

    the world has the same pure love for me as yourself- for I lay that

    pleasant unction to my soul, Jane, a belief in your affection.'

       I turned my lips to the hand that lay on my shoulder. I loved him

    very much- more than I could trust myself to say- more than words

    had power to express.

       'Ask something more,' he said presently; 'it is my delight to be

    entreated, and to yield.'

       I was again ready with my request. 'Communicate your intentions

    to Mrs. Fairfax, sir: she saw me with you last night in the hall,

    and she was shocked. Give her some explanation before I see her again.

    It pains me to be misjudged by so good a woman.'

       'Go to your room, and put on your bonnet,' he replied. 'I mean

    you to accompany me to Millcote this morning; and while you prepare

    for the drive, I will enlighten the old lady's understanding. Did

    she think, Janet, you had given the world for love, and considered

    it well lost?'

       'I believe she thought I had forgotten my station, and yours, sir.'

       'Station! station!- your station is in my heart, and on the necks

    of those who would insult you, now or hereafter.- Go.'

       I was soon dressed; and when I heard Mr. Rochester quit Mrs.

    Fairfax's parlour, I hurried down to it. The old lady had been reading

    her morning portion of Scripture- the Lesson for the day; her Bible

    lay open before her, and her spectacles were upon it. Her

    occupation, suspended by Mr. Rochester's announcement, seemed now

    forgotten: her eyes, fixed on the blank wall opposite, expressed the

    surprise of a quiet mind stirred by unwonted tidings. Seeing me, she

    roused herself: she made a sort of effort to smile, and framed a few

    words of congratulation; but the smile expired, and the sentence was

    abandoned unfinished. She put up her spectacles, shut the Bible, and

    pushed her chair back from the table.

       'I feel so astonished,' she began, 'I hardly know what to say to

    you, Miss Eyre. I have surely not been dreaming, have I? Sometimes I

    half fall asleep when I am sitting alone and fancy things that have

    never happened. It has seemed to me more than once when I have been in

    a doze, that my dear husband, who died fifteen years since, has come

    in and sat down beside me; and that I have even heard him call me by

    my name, Alice, as he used to do. Now, can you tell me whether it is

    actually true that Mr. Rochester has asked you to marry him? Don't

    laugh at me. But I really thought he came in here five minutes ago,

    and said that in a month you would be his wife.'

       'He has said the same thing to me,' I replied.

       'He has! Do you believe him? Have you accepted him?'

       'Yes.'

       She looked at me bewildered.

       'I could never have thought it. He is a proud man: all the

    Rochesters were proud: and his father, at least, liked money. He, too,

    has always been called careful. He means to marry you?'

       'He tells me so.'

       She surveyed my whole person: in her eyes I read that they had

    there found no charm powerful enough to solve the enigma.

       'It passes me!' she continued; 'but no doubt it is true since you

    say so. How it will answer, I cannot tell: I really don't know.

    Equality of position and fortune is often advisable in such cases; and

    there are twenty years of difference in your ages. He might almost

    be your father.'

       'No, indeed, Mrs. Fairfax!' exclaimed I, nettled; 'he is nothing

    like my father! No one, who saw us together, would suppose it for an

    instant. Mr. Rochester looks as young, and is as young, as some men at

    five-and-twenty.'

       'Is it really for love he is going to marry you?' she asked.

       I was so hurt by her coldness and scepticism, that the tears rose

    to my eyes.

       'I am sorry to grieve you,' pursued the widow; 'but you are so

    young, and so little acquainted with men, I wished to put you on

    your guard. It is an old saying that "all is not gold that

    glitters"; and in this case I do fear there will be something found to

    be different to what either you or I expect.'

       'Why?- am I a monster?' I said: 'is it impossible that Mr.

    Rochester should have a sincere affection for me?'

       'No: you are very well; and much improved of late; and Mr.

    Rochester, I daresay, is fond of you. I have always noticed that you

    were a sort of pet of his. There are times when, for your sake, I have

    been a little uneasy at his marked preference, and have wished to

    put you on your guard: but I did not like to suggest even the

    possibility of wrong. I knew such an idea would shock, perhaps

    offend you; and you were so discreet, and so thoroughly modest and

    sensible, I hoped you might be trusted to protect yourself. Last night

    I cannot tell you what I suffered when I sought all over the house,

    and could find you nowhere, nor the master either; and then, at twelve

    o'clock, saw you come in with him.'

       'Well, never mind that now,' I interrupted impatiently; 'it is

    enough that all was right.'

       'I hope all will be right in the end,' she said: 'but believe me,

    you cannot be too careful. Try and keep Mr. Rochester at a distance:

    distrust yourself as well as him. Gentlemen in his station are not

    accustomed to marry their governesses.'

       I was growing truly irritated: happily, Adele ran in.

       'Let me go,- let me go to Millcote too!' she cried. 'Mr.

    Rochester won't: though there is so much room in the new carriage. Beg

    him to let me go, mademoiselle.'

       'That I will, Adele'; and I hastened away with her, glad to quit my

    gloomy monitress. The carriage was ready: they were bringing it

    round to the front, and my master was pacing the pavement, Pilot

    following him backwards and forwards.

       'Adele may accompany us, may she not, sir?'

       'I told her no. I'll have no brats!- I'll have only you.'

       'Do let her go, Mr. Rochester, if you please: it would be better.'

       'Not it: she will be a restraint.'

       He was quite peremptory, both in look and voice. The chill of

    Mrs. Fairfax's warnings, and the damp of her doubts were upon me:

    something of unsubstantiality and uncertainty had beset my hopes. I

    half lost the sense of power over him. I was about mechanically to

    obey him, without further remonstrance; but as he helped me into the

    carriage, he looked at my face.

       'What is the matter?' he asked; 'all the sunshine is gone. Do you

    really wish the bairn to go? Will it annoy you if she is left behind?'

       'I would far rather she went, sir.'

       'Then off for your bonnet, and back like a flash of lightning!'

    cried he to Adele.

       She obeyed him with what speed she might.

       'After all, a single morning's interruption will not matter

    much,' said he, 'when I mean shortly to claim you- your thoughts,

    conversation, and company- for life.'

       Adele, when lifted in, commenced kissing me, by way of expressing

    her gratitude for my intercession: she was instantly stowed away

    into a corner on the other side of him. She then peeped round to where

    I sat; so stern a neighbour was too restrictive; to him, in his

    present fractious mood, she dared whisper no observations, nor ask

    of him any information.

       'Let her come to me,' I entreated: 'she will, perhaps, trouble you,

    sir: there is plenty of room on this side.'

       He handed her over as if she had been a lapdog. 'I'll send her to

    school yet,' he said, but now he was smiling.

       Adele heard him, and asked if she was to go to school 'sans

    mademoiselle?'

       'Yes,' he replied, 'absolutely sans mademoiselle; for I am to

    take mademoiselle to the moon, and there I shall seek a cave in one of

    the white valleys among the volcano-tops, and mademoiselle shall

    live with me there, and only me.'

       'She will have nothing to eat: you will starve her,' observed

    Adele.

       'I shall gather manna for her morning and night: the plains and

    hillsides in the moon are bleached with manna, Adele.'

       'She will want to warm herself: what will she do for a fire?'

       'Fire rises out of the lunar mountains: when she is cold, I'll

    carry her up to a peak, and lay her down on the edge of a crater.'

       'Oh, qu'elle y sera mal- peu comfortable! And her clothes, they

    will wear out: how can she get new ones?'

       Mr. Rochester professed to be puzzled. 'Hem!' said he. 'What

    would you do, Adele? Cudgel your brains for an expedient. How would

    a white or a pink cloud answer for a gown, do you think? And one could

    cut a pretty enough scarf out of a rainbow.'

       'She is far better as she is,' concluded Adele, after musing some

    time: 'besides, she would get tired of living with only you in the

    moon. If I were mademoiselle, I would never consent to go with you.'

       'She has consented: she has pledged her word.'

       'But you can't get her there; there is no road to the moon: it is

    all air; and neither you nor she can fly.'

       'Adele, look at that field.' We were now outside Thornfield

    gates, and bowling lightly along the smooth road to Millcote, where

    the dust was well laid by the thunderstorm, and where the low hedges

    and lofty timber trees on each side glistened green and

    rain-refreshed.

       'In that field, Adele, I was walking late one evening about a

    fortnight since- the evening of the day you helped me to make hay in

    the orchard meadows; and as I was tired with raking swaths, I sat down

    to rest me on a stile; and there I took out a little book and a

    pencil, and began to write about a misfortune that befell me long ago,

    and a wish I had for happy days to come: I was writing away very fast,

    though daylight was fading from the leaf, when something came up the

    path and stopped two yards off me. I looked at it. It was a little

    thing with a veil of gossamer on its head. I beckoned it to come

    near me; it stood soon at my knee. I never spoke to it, and it never

    spoke to me, in words; but I read its eyes, and it read mine; and

    our speechless colloquy was to this effect-

       'It was a fairy, and come from Elf-land, it said; and its errand

    was to make me happy: I must go with it out of the common world to a

    lonely place- such as the moon, for instance- and it nodded its head

    towards her horn, rising over Hayhill: it told me of the alabaster

    cave and silver vale where we might live. I said I should like to

    go; but reminded it, as you did me, that I had no wings to fly.

       '"Oh," returned the fairy, "that does not signify! Here is a

    talisman will remove all difficulties"; and she held out a pretty gold

    ring. "Put it," she said, "on the fourth finger of my left hand, and I

    am yours, and you are mine; and we shall leave earth, and make our own

    heaven yonder." She nodded again at the moon. The ring, Adele, is in

    my breeches-pocket, under the disguise of a sovereign: but I mean soon

    to change it to a ring again.'

       'But what has mademoiselle to do with it? I don't care for the

    fairy: you said it was mademoiselle you would take to the moon?'

       'Mademoiselle is a fairy,' he said, whispering mysteriously.

    Whereupon I told her not to mind his badinage; and she, on her part,

    evinced a fund of genuine French scepticism: denominating Mr.

    Rochester 'un vrai menteur,' and assuring him that she made no account

    whatever of his 'contes de fee,' and that 'du reste, il n'y avait

    pas de fees, et quand meme il y en avait': she was sure they would

    never appear to him, nor ever give him rings, or offer to live with

    him in the moon.

       The hour spent at Millcote was a somewhat harassing one to me.

    Mr. Rochester obliged me to go to a certain silk warehouse: there I

    was ordered to choose half a dozen dresses. I hated the business, I

    begged leave to defer it: no- it should be gone through with now. By

    dint of entreaties expressed in energetic whispers, I reduced the

    half-dozen to two: these, however, he vowed he would select himself.

    With anxiety I watched his eye rove over the gay stores: he fixed on a

    rich silk of the most brilliant amethyst dye, and a superb pink satin.

    I told him in a new series of whispers, that he might as well buy me a

    gold gown and a silver bonnet at once: I should certainly never

    venture to wear his choice. With infinite difficulty, for he was

    stubborn as a stone, I persuaded him to make an exchange in favour

    of a sober black satin and pearl-grey silk. 'It might pass for the

    present,' he said; 'but he would yet see me glittering like a

    parterre.'

       Glad was I to get him out of the silk warehouse, and then out of

    a jeweller's shop: the more he bought me, the more my cheek burned

    with a sense of annoyance and degradation. As we re-entered the

    carriage, and I sat back feverish and fagged, I remembered what, in

    the hurry of events, dark and bright, I had wholly forgotten- the

    letter of my uncle, John Eyre, to Mrs. Reed: his intention to adopt me

    and make me his legatee. 'It would, indeed, be a relief,' I thought,

    'if I had ever so small an independency; I never can bear being

    dressed like a doll by Mr. Rochester, or sitting like a second Danae

    with the golden shower falling daily round me. I will write to Madeira

    the moment I get home, and tell my uncle John I am going to be

    married, and to whom: if I had but a prospect of one day bringing

    Mr. Rochester an accession of fortune, I could better endure to be

    kept by him now.' And somewhat relieved by this idea (which I failed

    not to execute that day), I ventured once more to meet my master's and

    lover's eye, which most pertinaciously sought mine, though I averted

    both face and gaze. He smiled; and I thought his smile was such as a

    sultan might, in a blissful and fond moment, bestow on a slave his

    gold and gems had enriched: I crushed his hand, which was ever hunting

    mine, vigorously, and thrust it back to him red with the passionate

    pressure.

       'You need not look in that way,' I said; 'if you do, I'll wear

    nothing but my old Lowood frocks to the end of the chapter. I'll be

    married in this lilac gingham: you may make a dressing-gown for

    yourself out of the pearl-grey silk, and an infinite series of

    waistcoats out of the black satin.'

       He chuckled; he rubbed his hands. 'Oh, it is rich to see and hear

    her!' he exclaimed. 'Is she original? Is she piquant? I would not

    exchange this one little English girl for the Grand Turk's whole

    seraglio, gazelle-eyes, houri forms, and all!'

       The Eastern allusion bit me again. 'I'll not stand you an inch in

    the stead of a seraglio,' I said; 'so don't consider me an

    equivalent for one. If you have a fancy for anything in that line,

    away with you, sir, to the bazaars of Stamboul without delay, and

    lay out in extensive slave-purchases some of that spare cash you

    seem at a loss to spend satisfactorily here.'

       'And what will you do, Janet, while I am bargaining for so many

    tons of flesh and such an assortment of black eyes?'

       'I'll be preparing myself to go out as a missionary to preach

    liberty to them that are enslaved- your harem inmates amongst the

    rest. I'll get admitted there, and I'll stir up mutiny; and you,

    three-tailed bashaw as you are, sir, shall in a trice find yourself

    fettered amongst our hands: nor will I, for one, consent to cut your

    bonds till you have signed a charter, the most liberal that despot

    ever yet conferred.'

       'I would consent to be at your mercy, Jane.'

       'I would have no mercy, Mr. Rochester, if you supplicated for it

    with an eye like that. While you looked so, I should be certain that

    whatever charter you might grant under coercion, your first act,

    when released, would be to violate its conditions.'

       'Why, Jane, what would you have? I fear you will compel me to go

    through a private marriage ceremony, besides that performed at the

    altar. You will stipulate, I see, for peculiar terms- what will they

    be?'

       'I only want an easy mind, sir; not crushed by crowded obligations.

    Do you remember what you said of Celine Varens?- of the diamonds,

    the cashmeres you gave her? I will not be your English Celine

    Varens. I shall continue to act as Adele's governess; by that I

    shall earn my board and lodging, and thirty pounds a year besides.

    I'll furnish my own wardrobe out of that money, and you shall give

    me nothing but-'

       'Well, but what?'

       'Your regard; and if I give you mine in return, that debt will be

    quit.'

       'Well, for cool native impudence and pure innate pride, you haven't

    your equal,' said he. We were now approaching Thornfield. 'Will it

    please you to dine with me to-day?' he asked, as we re-entered the

    gates.

       'No, thank you, sir.'

       'And what for, "no, thank you?" if one may inquire.'

       'I never have dined with you, sir: and I see no reason why I should

    now: till-'

       'Till what? You delight in half-phrases.'

       'Till I can't help it.'

       'Do you suppose I eat like an ogre or a ghoul, that you dread being

    the companion of my repast?'

       'I have formed no supposition on the subject, sir; but I want to go

    on as usual for another month.'

       'You will give up your governessing slavery at once.'

       'Indeed, begging your pardon, sir, I shall not. I shall just go

    on with it as usual. I shall keep out of your way all day, as I have

    been accustomed to do: you may send for me in the evening, when you

    feel disposed to see me, and I'll come then; but at no other time.'

       'I want a smoke, Jane, or a pinch of snuff, to comfort me under all

    this, "pour me donner une contenance," as Adele would say; and

    unfortunately I have neither my cigar-case nor my snuff-box. But

    listen- whisper. It is your time now, little tyrant, but it will be

    mine presently; and when once I have fairly seized you, to have and to

    hold, I'll just- figuratively speaking- attach you to a chain like

    this' (touching his watch-guard). 'Yes, bonny wee thing, I'll wear you

    in my bosom, lest my jewel I should tyne.'

       He said this as he helped me to alight from the carriage, and while

    he afterwards lifted out Adele, I entered the house, and made good

    my retreat upstairs.

       He duly summoned me to his presence in the evening. I had

    prepared an occupation for him; for I was determined not to spend

    the whole time in a tete-a-tete conversation. I remembered his fine

    voice; I knew he liked to sing- good singers generally do. I was no

    vocalist myself, and, in his fastidious judgment, no musician, either;

    but I delighted in listening when the performance was good. No

    sooner had twilight, that hour of romance, began to lower her blue and

    starry banner over the lattice, than I rose, opened the piano, and

    entreated him, for the love of heaven, to give me a song. He said I

    was a capricious witch, and that he would rather sing another time;

    but I averred that no time was like the present.

       'Did I like his voice?' he asked.

       'Very much.' I was not fond of pampering that susceptible vanity of

    his; but for once, and from motives of expediency, I would e'en soothe

    and stimulate it.

       'Then, Jane, you must play the accompaniment.'

       'Very well, sir, I will try.'

       I did try, but was presently swept off the stool and denominated 'a

    little bungler.' Being pushed unceremoniously to one side- which was

    precisely what I wished- he usurped my place, and proceeded to

    accompany himself: for he could play as well as sing. I hied me to the

    window-recess. And while I sat there and looked out on the still trees

    and dim lawn, to a sweet air was sung in mellow tones the following

    strain:-
     
     

                    'The truest love that ever heart

                      Felt at its kindled core,

                    Did through each vein, in quickened start,

                      The tide of being pour.
     
     

                    Her coming was my hope each day,

                      Her parting was my pain;

                    The chance that did her steps delay

                      Was ice in every vein.
     
     

                    I dreamed it would be nameless bliss,

                      As I loved, loved to be;

                    And to this object did I press

                      As blind as eagerly.
     
     

                    But wide as pathless was the space

                      That lay our lives between,

                    And dangerous as the foamy race

                      Of ocean-surges green.
     
     

                    And haunted as a robber-path

                      Through wilderness or wood;

                    For Might and Right, and Woe and Wrath,

                      Between our spirits stood.
     
     

                    I dangers dared; I hindrance scorned;

                      I omens did defy:

                    Whatever menaced, harassed, warned,

                      I passed impetuous by.
     
     

                    On sped my rainbow, fast as light;

                      I flew as in a dream;

                    For glorious rose upon my sight

                      That child of Shower and Gleam.
     
     

                    Still bright on clouds of suffering dim

                      Shines that soft, solemn joy;

                    Nor care I now, how dense and grim

                      Disasters gather nigh.
     
     

                    I care not in this moment sweet,

                      Though all I have rushed o'er

                    Should come on pinion, strong and fleet,

                      Proclaiming vengeance sore:
     
     

                    Though haughty Hate should strike me down,

                      Right, bar approach to me,

                    And grinding Might, with furious frown,

                      Swear endless enmity.
     
     

                    My love has placed her little hand

                      With noble faith in mine,

                    And vowed that wedlock's sacred band

                      Our nature shall entwine.
     
     

                    My love has sworn, with sealing kiss,

                      With me to live- to die;

                    I have at last my nameless bliss:

                      As I love- loved am I!'
     
     

       He rose and came towards me, and I saw his face all kindled, and

    his full falcon-eye flashing, and tenderness and passion in every

    lineament. I quailed momentarily- then I rallied. Soft scene, daring

    demonstration, I would not have; and I stood in peril of both: a

    weapon of defence must be prepared- I whetted my tongue: as he reached

    me, I asked with asperity, 'whom he was going to marry now?'

       'That was a strange question to be put by his darling Jane.'

       'Indeed! I considered it a very natural and necessary one: he had

    talked of his future wife dying with him. What did he mean by such a

    pagan idea? I had no intention of dying with him- he might depend on

    that.'

       'Oh, all he longed, all he prayed for, was that I might live with

    him! Death was not for such as I.'

       'Indeed it was: I had as good a right to die when my time came as

    he had: but I should bide that time, and not be hurried away in a

    suttee.'

       'Would I forgive him for the selfish idea, and prove my pardon by a

    reconciling kiss?'

       'No: I would rather be excused.'

       Here I heard myself apostrophised as a 'hard little thing'; and

    it was added, 'any other woman would have been melted to marrow at

    hearing such stanzas crooned in her praise.'

       I assured him I was naturally hard- very flinty, and that he

    would often find me so; and that, moreover, I was determined to show

    him divers rugged points in my character before the ensuing four weeks

    elapsed: he should know fully what sort of a bargain he had made,

    while there was yet time to rescind it.

       'Would I be quiet and talk rationally?'

       'I would be quiet if he liked, and as to talking rationally, I

    flattered myself I was doing that now.'

       He fretted, pished, and pshawed. 'Very good,' I thought; 'you may

    fume and fidget as you please: but this is the best plan to pursue

    with you, I am certain. I like you more than I can say; but I'll not

    sink into a bathos of sentiment: and with this needle of repartee I'll

    keep you from the edge of the gulf too; and, moreover, maintain by its

    pungent aid that distance between you and myself most conducive to our

    real mutual advantage.'

       From less to more, I worked him up to considerable irritation;

    then, after he had retired, in dudgeon, quite to the other end of

    the room, I got up, and saying, 'I wish you good-night, sir,' in my

    natural and wonted respectful manner, I slipped out by the side-door

    and got away.

       The system thus entered on, I pursued during the whole season of

    probation; and with the best success. He was kept, to be sure,

    rather cross and crusty; but on the whole I could see he was

    excellently entertained, and that a lamb-like submission and

    turtle-dove sensibility, while fostering his despotism more, would

    have pleased his judgment, satisfied his common sense, and even suited

    his taste less.

       In other people's presence I was, as formerly, deferential and

    quiet; any other line of conduct being uncalled for: it was only in

    the evening conferences I thus thwarted and afflicted him. He

    continued to send for me punctually the moment the clock struck seven;

    though when I appeared before him now, he had no such honeyed terms as

    'love' and 'darling' on his lips: the best words at my service were

    'provoking puppet,' 'malicious elf,' 'sprite,' 'changeling,' etc.

    For caresses, too, I now got grimaces; for a pressure of the hand, a

    pinch on the arm; for a kiss on the cheek, a severe tweak of the

    ear. It was all right: at present I decidedly preferred these fierce

    favours to anything more tender. Mrs. Fairfax, I saw, approved me: her

    anxiety on my account vanished; therefore I was certain I did well.

    Meantime, Mr. Rochester affirmed I was wearing him to skin and bone,

    and threatened awful vengeance for my present conduct at some period

    fast coming. I laughed in my sleeve at his menaces. 'I can keep you in

    reasonable check now,' I reflected; 'and I don't doubt to be able to

    do it hereafter: if one expedient loses its virtue, another must be

    devised.'

       Yet after all my task was not an easy one; often I would rather

    have pleased than teased him. My future husband was becoming to me

    my whole world; and more than the world: almost my hope of heaven.

    He stood between me and every thought of religion, as an eclipse

    intervenes between man and the broad sun. I could not, in those

    days, see God for His creature: of whom I had made an idol.

    更多翻譯詳細(xì)信息請(qǐng)點(diǎn)擊:http://www.trans1.cn
     
    [ 網(wǎng)刊訂閱 ]  [ 專業(yè)英語(yǔ)搜索 ]  [ ]  [ 告訴好友 ]  [ 打印本文 ]  [ 關(guān)閉窗口 ] [ 返回頂部 ]
    分享:

     

     
    推薦圖文
    推薦專業(yè)英語(yǔ)
    點(diǎn)擊排行
     
     
    Processed in 0.136 second(s), 18 queries, Memory 0.98 M