some time in the afternoon i raised my head, and looking round and seeing the western sun 1 the sign of its decline on the wall, i asked, "what am i to do?"
but the answer my mind gave--"leave thornfield at once"--was so prompt, so 2, that i stopped my ears. i said i could not bear such words now. "that i am not edward rochester's bride is the least part of my 3," i 4: "that i have wakened out of most glorious dreams, and found them all void and vain, is a horror i could bear and master; but that i must leave him decidedly, instantly, 5, is intolerable. i cannot do it."
but, then, a voice within me 6 that i could do it and 8 that i should do it. i 9 with my own resolution: i wanted to be weak that i might avoid the awful passage of further suffering i saw laid out for me; and conscience, turned 10, held passion by the throat, told her 11, she had yet but dipped her dainty foot in the 12, and swore that with that arm of iron he would thrust her down to unsounded depths of agony.
"let me be torn away," then i cried. "let another help me!"
"no; you shall tear yourself away, none shall help you: you shall yourself pluck out your right eye; yourself cut off your right hand: your heart shall be the victim, and you the priest to transfix it."
i rose up suddenly, terror-struck at the 13 which so ruthless a judge haunted,--at the silence which so awful a voice filled. my head swam as i stood 14. i perceived that i was sickening from excitement and inanition; neither meat nor drink had passed my lips that day, for i had taken no breakfast. and, with a strange 15, i now reflected that, long as i had been shut up here, no message had been sent to ask how i was, or to invite me to come down: not even little adele had tapped at the door; not even mrs. fairfax had sought me. "friends always forget those whom fortune forsakes," i murmured, as i undrew the bolt and passed out. i stumbled over an obstacle: my head was still dizzy, my sight was dim, and my limbs were feeble. i could not soon recover myself. i fell, but not on to the ground: an outstretched arm caught me. i looked up--i was supported by mr. rochester, who sat in a chair across my 16 threshold.
"you come out at last," he said. "well, i have been waiting for you long, and listening: yet not one movement have i heard, nor one 17: five minutes more of that death-like 18, and i should have forced the lock like a burglar. so you 19 me?--you shut yourself up and grieve alone! i would rather you had come and 21 me with 22. you are 23. i expected a scene of some kind. i was prepared for the hot rain of tears; only i wanted them to be shed on my breast: now a senseless floor has received them, or your 24 handkerchief. but i 7: you have not wept at all! i see a white cheek and a faded eye, but no trace of tears. i suppose, then, your heart has been weeping blood?"
"well, jane! not a word of reproach? nothing bitter--nothing 26? nothing to cut a feeling or sting a passion? you sit quietly where i have placed you, and regard me with a weary, passive look."
"jane, i never meant to wound you thus. if the man who had but one little ewe lamb that was dear to him as a daughter, that ate of his bread and drank of his cup, and lay in his 27, had by some mistake 28 it at the 29, he would not have 31 his 32 blunder more than i now 30 mine. will you ever forgive me?"
reader, i forgave him at the moment and on the spot. there was such deep 33 in his eye, such true pity in his tone, such 34 energy in his manner; and besides, there was such unchanged love in his whole look and mien--i forgave him all: yet not in words, not outwardly; only at my heart's core.
"you know i am a scoundrel, jane?" ere long he inquired wistfully-- wondering, i suppose, at my continued silence and tameness, the result rather of weakness than of will.
"yes, sir."
"then tell me so roundly and sharply--don't spare me."
"i cannot: i am tired and sick. i want some water." he heaved a sort of 35 sigh, and taking me in his arms, carried me downstairs. at first i did not know to what room he had borne me; all was cloudy to my 36 sight: presently i felt the reviving warmth of a fire; for, summer as it was, i had become icy cold in my chamber. he put wine to my lips; i tasted it and revived; then i ate something he offered me, and was soon myself. i was in the library--sitting in his chair--he was quite near. "if i could go out of life now, without too sharp a pang, it would be well for me," i thought; "then i should not have to make the effort of cracking my heart-strings in 38 them from among mr. rochester's. i must leave him, it appears. i do not want to leave him--i cannot leave him."
"how are you now, jane?"
"much better, sir; i shall be well soon."
"taste the wine again, jane."
i obeyed him; then he put the glass on the table, stood before me, and looked at me 39. suddenly he turned away, with an inarticulate 40, full of passionate emotion of some kind; he walked fast through the room and came back; he stooped towards me as if to kiss me; but i remembered 41 were now forbidden. i turned my face away and put his aside.
"what!--how is this?" he exclaimed hastily. "oh, i know! you won't kiss the husband of bertha mason? you consider my arms filled and my embraces appropriated?"
"at any rate, there is neither room nor claim for me, sir."
"why, jane? i will spare you the trouble of much talking; i will answer for you--because i have a wife already, you would reply.--i guess rightly?"
"yes."
"if you think so, you must have a strange opinion of me; you must regard me as a plotting profligate--a base and low rake who has been simulating 43 love in order to draw you into a 44 45 laid, and strip you of honour and rob you of self- respect. what do you say to that? i see you can say nothing in the first place, you are faint still, and have enough to do to draw your breath; in the second place, you cannot yet 46 yourself to accuse and 47 me, and besides, the flood-gates of tears are opened, and they would rush out if you 49 much; and you have no desire to expostulate, to 20, to make a scene: you are thinking how to act--talking you consider is of no use. i know you- -i am on my guard."
"sir, i do not wish to act against you," i said; and my unsteady voice warned me to 50 my sentence.
"not in your sense of the word, but in mine you are scheming to destroy me. you have as good as said that i am a married man--as a married man you will shun me, keep out of my way: just now you have refused to kiss me. you intend to make yourself a complete stranger to me: to live under this roof only as adele's governess; if ever i say a friendly word to you, if ever a friendly feeling inclines you again to me, you will say,--'that man had nearly made me his mistress: i must be ice and rock to him;' and ice and rock you will accordingly become."
i cleared and steadied my voice to reply: "all is changed about me, sir; i must change too--there is no doubt of that; and to avoid 51 of feeling, and continual combats with recollections and associations, there is only one way--adele must have a new governess, sir."
"oh, adele will go to school--i have settled that already; nor do i mean to 53 you with the 54 associations and recollections of thornfield hall--this accursed place--this tent of achan--this 55 56, offering the ghastliness of living death to the light of the open sky--this narrow stone hell, with its one real fiend, worse than a legion of such as we imagine. jane, you shall not stay here, nor will i. i was wrong ever to bring you to thornfield hall, knowing as i did how it was haunted. i charged them to 57 from you, before i ever saw you, all knowledge of the curse of the place; merely because i feared adele never would have a governess to stay if she knew with what 59 she was housed, and my plans would not permit me to remove the 60 elsewhere--though i possess an old house, ferndean 61, even more 62 and hidden than this, where i could have 63 her safely enough, had not a 64 about the unhealthiness of the situation, in the heart of a wood, made my conscience 65 from the arrangement. probably those damp walls would soon have eased me of her charge: but to each 68 his own 69; and mine is not a tendency to indirect 70, even of what i most hate.
"71 the mad-woman's neighbourhood from you, however, was something like covering a child with a cloak and laying it down near a upas-tree: that 72's vicinage is poisoned, and always was. but i'll shut up thornfield hall: i'll nail up the front door and board the lower windows: i'll give mrs. poole two hundred a year to live here with my wife, as you term that fearful hag: grace will do much for money, and she shall have her son, the keeper at grimsby retreat, to bear her company and be at hand to give her aid in the paroxysms, when my wife is prompted by her familiar to burn people in their beds at night, to stab them, to bite their flesh from their bones, and so on--"
"sir," i interrupted him, "you are inexorable for that unfortunate lady: you speak of her with hate--with 74 75. it is cruel--she cannot help being mad."
"jane, my little darling (so i will call you, for so you are), you don't know what you are talking about; you misjudge me again: it is not because she is mad i hate her. if you were mad, do you think i should hate you?"
"i do indeed, sir."
"then you are mistaken, and you know nothing about me, and nothing about the sort of love of which i am capable. every atom of your flesh is as dear to me as my own: in pain and sickness it would still be dear. your mind is my treasure, and if it were broken, it would be my treasure still: if you 76, my arms should confine you, and not a strait waistcoat--your grasp, even in fury, would have a charm for me: if you flew at me as wildly as that woman did this morning, i should receive you in an embrace, at least as fond as it would be restrictive. i should not shrink from you with disgust as i did from her: in your quiet moments you should have no watcher and no nurse but me; and i could hang over you with untiring tenderness, though you gave me no smile in return; and never weary of gazing into your eyes, though they had no longer a ray of recognition for me.--but why do i follow that train of ideas? i was talking of removing you from thornfield. all, you know, is prepared for prompt departure: to-morrow you shall go. i only ask you to endure one more night under this roof, jane; and then, farewell to its 77 and terrors for ever! i have a place to repair to, which will be a secure 78 from hateful reminiscences, from unwelcome intrusion--even from falsehood and 79."
"and take adele with you, sir," i interrupted; "she will be a companion for you."
"what do you mean, jane? i told you i would send adele to school; and what do i want with a child for a companion, and not my own child,--a french dancer's 80? why do you 81 me about her! i say, why do you assign adele to me for a companion?"
"you spoke of a 82, sir; and retirement and solitude are dull: too dull for you."
"solitude! solitude!" he 84 with 85. "i see i must come to an explanation. i don't know what sphynx-like expression is forming in your 86. you are to share my solitude. do you understand?"
i shook my head: it required a degree of courage, excited as he was becoming, even to risk that mute sign of 87. he had been walking fast about the room, and he stopped, as if suddenly rooted to one spot. he looked at me long and hard: i turned my eyes from him, 88 them on the fire, and tried to assume and maintain a quiet, collected aspect.
"now for the 89 in jane's character," he said at last, speaking more calmly than from his look i had expected him to speak. "the reel of silk has run 90 enough so far; but i always knew there would come a knot and a puzzle: here it is. now for vexation, and 91, and endless trouble! by god! i long to exert a fraction of samson's strength, and break the 92 like tow!"
he recommenced his walk, but soon again stopped, and this time just before me.
"jane! will you hear reason?" (he stooped and approached his lips to my ear); "because, if you won't, i'll try violence." his voice was 93; his look that of a man who is just about to burst an insufferable bond and 94 headlong into wild 95. i saw that in another moment, and with one 96 of 97 more, i should be able to do nothing with him. the present--the passing second of time--was all i had in which to control and restrain him--a movement of repulsion, flight, fear would have sealed my 98,--and his. but i was not afraid: not in the least. i felt an inward power; a sense of influence, which supported me. the crisis was 99; but not without its charm: such as the indian, perhaps, feels when he slips over the rapid in his canoe. i took hold of his 100 hand, loosened the contorted fingers, and said to him, 101 -
"sit down; i'll talk to you as long as you like, and hear all you have to say, whether reasonable or 102."
he sat down: but he did not get leave to speak directly. i had been struggling with tears for some time: i had taken great pains to repress them, because i knew he would not like to see me weep. now, however, i considered it well to let them flow as freely and as long as they liked. if the flood annoyed him, so much the better. so i gave way and cried 103.
soon i heard him earnestly 104 me to be composed. i said i could not while he was in such a passion.
"but i am not angry, jane: i only love you too well; and you had steeled your little pale face with such a 105, frozen look, i could not endure it. hush, now, and wipe your eyes."
his 106 voice announced that he was 107; so i, in my turn, became calm. now he made an effort to rest his head on my shoulder, but i would not permit it. then he would draw me to him: no.
"jane! jane!" he said, in such an accent of bitter sadness it thrilled along every nerve i had; "you don't love me, then? it was only my station, and the rank of my wife, that you valued? now that you think me disqualified to become your husband, you recoil from my touch as if i were some 108 or ape."
these words cut me: yet what could i do or i say? i ought probably to have done or said nothing; but i was so tortured by a sense of remorse at thus hurting his feelings, i could not control the wish to drop balm where i had wounded.
"i do love you," i said, "more than ever: but i must not show or indulge the feeling: and this is the last time i must express it."
"the last time, jane! what! do you think you can live with me, and see me daily, and yet, if you still love me, be always cold and distant?"
"no, sir; that i am certain i could not; and therefore i see there is but one way: but you will be furious if i mention it."
"oh, mention it! if i storm, you have the art of weeping."
"mr. rochester, i must leave you."
"for how long, jane? for a few minutes, while you smooth your hair- -which is somewhat dishevelled; and bathe your face--which looks 109?"
"i must leave adele and thornfield. i must part with you for my whole life: i must begin a new existence among strange faces and strange scenes."
"of course: i told you you should. i pass over the madness about parting from me. you mean you must become a part of me. as to the new existence, it is all right: you shall yet be my wife: i am not married. you shall be mrs. rochester--both virtually and 110. i shall keep only to you so long as you and i live. you shall go to a place i have in the south of france: a 111 67 on the shores of the 112. there you shall live a happy, and guarded, and most innocent life. never fear that i wish to 113 you into error--to make you my mistress. why did you shake your head? jane, you must be reasonable, or in truth i shall again become 114."
his voice and hand quivered: his large 115 116; his eye blazed: still i dared to speak.
"sir, your wife is living: that is a fact acknowledged this morning by yourself. if i lived with you as you desire, i should then be your mistress: to say otherwise is sophistical--is false."
"jane, i am not a gentle-tempered man--you forget that: i am not long-enduring; i am not cool and dispassionate. out of pity to me and yourself, put your finger on my pulse, feel how it 117, and-- beware!"
he bared his wrist, and offered it to me: the blood was 118 his cheek and lips, they were growing livid; i was 119 on all hands. to 120 him thus deeply, by a resistance he so 122, was cruel: to yield was out of the question. i did what human beings do 123 when they are driven to utter extremity-- looked for aid to one higher than man: the words "god help me!" burst involuntarily from my lips.
"i am a fool!" cried mr. rochester suddenly. "i keep telling her i am not married, and do not explain to her why. i forget she knows nothing of the character of that woman, or of the circumstances attending my infernal union with her. oh, i am certain jane will agree with me in opinion, when she knows all that i know! just put your hand in mine, janet--that i may have the evidence of touch as well as sight, to prove you are near me--and i will in a few words show you the real state of the case. can you listen to me
"yes, sir; for hours if you will."
"i ask only minutes. jane, did you ever hear or know at i was not the 124 son of my house: that i had once a brother older than i?"
"i remember mrs. fairfax told me so once."
"and did you ever hear that my father was an 125, grasping man?"
"i have understood something to that effect."
"well, jane, being so, it was his resolution to keep the property together; he could not bear the idea of dividing his estate and leaving me a fair portion: all, he resolved, should go to my brother, rowland. yet as little could he endure that a son of his should be a poor man. i must be provided for by a wealthy marriage. he sought me a partner betimes. mr. mason, a west india planter and merchant, was his old acquaintance. he was certain his possessions were real and vast: he made 126. mr. mason, he found, had a son and daughter; and he learned from him that he could and would give the latter a fortune of thirty thousand pounds: that sufficed. when i left college, i was sent out to jamaica, to 127 a bride already courted for me. my father said nothing about her money; but he told me miss mason was the boast of spanish town for her beauty: and this was no lie. i found her a fine woman, in the style of blanche ingram: tall, dark, and 128. her family wished to secure me because i was of a good race; and so did she. they showed her to me in parties, splendidly dressed. i seldom saw her alone, and had very little private conversation with her. she flattered me, and 129 displayed for my pleasure her charms and 130. all the men in her circle seemed to admire her and envy me. i was dazzled, 131: my senses were excited; and being ignorant, raw, and inexperienced, i thought i loved her. there is no 132 so besotted that the 133 134 of society, the 135, the rashness, the blindness of youth, will not hurry a man to its commission. her relatives encouraged me; competitors 136 me; she 137 me: a marriage was achieved almost before i knew where i was. oh, i have no respect for myself when i think of that act!--an agony of inward contempt masters me. i never loved, i never 138, i did not even know her. i was not sure of the existence of one 139 in her nature: i had marked neither 140, nor 141, nor candour, nor 142 in her mind or manners--and, i married her:- gross, 143, mole-eyed blockhead that i was! with less sin i might have--but let me remember to whom i am speaking."
"my bride's mother i had never seen: i understood she was dead. the 144 over, i learned my mistake; she was only mad, and shut up in a lunatic 145. there was a younger brother, too--a complete dumb idiot. the elder one, whom you have seen (and whom i cannot hate, whilst i 121 all his kindred, because he has some grains of affection in his feeble mind, shown in the continued interest he takes in his wretched sister, and also in a dog-like 146 he once bore me), will probably be in the same state one day. my father and my brother rowland knew all this; but they thought only of the thirty thousand pounds, and joined in the plot against me."
"these were 48 discoveries; but except for the treachery of 147, i should have made them no subject of reproach to my wife, even when i found her nature wholly alien to mine, her tastes 148 to me, her cast of mind common, low, narrow, and singularly 150 of being led to anything higher, expanded to anything larger--when i found that i could not pass a single evening, nor even a single hour of the day with her in comfort; that 151 conversation could not be sustained between us, because whatever topic i started, immediately received from her a turn at once coarse and 152, 153 and imbecile--when i perceived that i should never have a quiet or settled household, because no servant would bear the continued outbreaks of her violent and unreasonable temper, or the vexations of her absurd, 154, 155 orders--even then i restrained myself: i 156 157, i 158 159; i tried to 160 my 161 and disgust in secret; i repressed the deep antipathy i felt.
"jane, i will not trouble you with 162 details: some strong words shall express what i have to say. i lived with that woman upstairs four years, and before that time she had tried me indeed: her character 163 and developed with 164 rapidity; her 165 sprang up fast and rank: they were so strong, only cruelty could check them, and i would not use cruelty. what a pigmy intellect she had, and what giant 166! how fearful were the curses those propensities 167 on me! bertha mason, the true daughter of an 168 mother, dragged me through all the hideous and degrading agonies which must attend a man bound to a wife at once 169 and unchaste.
"my brother in the 170 was dead, and at the end of the four years my father died too. i was rich enough now--yet poor to hideous 171: a nature the most gross, 172, depraved i ever saw, was associated with mine, and called by the law and by society a part of me. and i could not rid myself of it by any legal 173: for the doctors now discovered that my wife was mad-- her excesses had 174 developed the germs of 175. jane, you don't like my 176; you look almost sick--shall i 177 the rest to another day?"
"no, sir, finish it now; i pity you--i do earnestly pity you."
"pity, jane, from some people is a 149 and insulting sort of tribute, which one is 178 in 179 back in the teeth of those who offer it; but that is the sort of pity native to 180, selfish hearts; it is a 181, egotistical pain at hearing of 182, crossed with ignorant contempt for those who have endured them. but that is not your pity, jane; it is not the feeling of which your whole face is full at this moment--with which your eyes are now almost overflowing--with which your heart is heaving--with which your hand is trembling in mine. your pity, my darling, is the suffering mother of love: its 183 is the very 184 pang of the divine passion. i accept it, jane; let the daughter have free advent--my arms wait to receive her."
"now, sir, proceed; what did you do when you found she was mad?"
"jane, i approached the 185 of despair; a remnant of self-respect was all that intervened between me and the 186. in the eyes of the world, i was doubtless covered with grimy 187; but i resolved to be clean in my own sight--and to the last i 188 the contamination of her crimes, and 189 myself from connection with her mental defects. still, society associated my name and person with hers; i yet saw her and heard her daily: something of her breath (faugh!) mixed with the air i breathed; and besides, i remembered i had once been her husband--that recollection was then, and is now, inexpressibly 190 to me; moreover, i knew that while she lived i could never be the husband of another and better wife; and, though five years my senior (her family and her father had lied to me even in the particular of her age), she was likely to live as long as i, being as 191 in frame as she was infirm in mind. thus, at the age of twenty-six, i was hopeless.
"one night i had been 192 by her yells--(since the medical men had pronounced her mad, she had, of course, been shut up)--it was a 193 west indian night; one of the description that frequently precede the hurricanes of those climates. being unable to sleep in bed, i got up and opened the window. the air was like sulphur- steams--i could find no 194 anywhere. mosquitoes came buzzing in and hummed 195 round the room; the sea, which i could hear from thence, 196 dull like an earthquake--black clouds were casting up over it; the moon was setting in the waves, broad and red, like a hot cannon-ball--she threw her last bloody glance over a world quivering with the 197 of tempest. i was 198 influenced by the atmosphere and scene, and my ears were filled with the curses the maniac still 199 out; wherein she momentarily 200 my name with such a tone of demon-hate, with such language!--no 201 harlot ever had a 202 vocabulary than she: though two rooms off, i heard every word--the thin partitions of the west india house opposing but slight 203 to her wolfish cries.
"'this life,' said i at last, 'is hell: this is the air--those are the sounds of the bottomless pit! i have a right to deliver myself from it if i can. the sufferings of this mortal state will leave me with the heavy flesh that now cumbers my soul. of the fanatic's burning 204 i have no fear: there is not a future state worse than this present one--let me break away, and go home to god!'
"i said this whilst i knelt down at, and unlocked a trunk which contained a 42 of loaded pistols: i mean to shoot myself. i only entertained the intention for a moment; for, not being insane, the crisis of 206 and unalloyed despair, which had originated the wish and design of self-destruction, was past in a second.
"a wind fresh from europe blew over the ocean and rushed through the open 207: the storm broke, streamed, thundered, blazed, and the air grew pure. i then framed and fixed a resolution. while i walked under the dripping orange-trees of my wet garden, and amongst its drenched pomegranates and pine-apples, and while the 208 dawn of the tropics 209 round me--i reasoned thus, jane--and now listen; for it was true wisdom that consoled me in that hour, and showed me the right path to follow.
"the sweet wind from europe was still whispering in the refreshed leaves, and the atlantic was thundering in glorious liberty; my heart, dried up and 210 for a long time, 211 to the tone, and filled with living blood--my being longed for renewal--my soul thirsted for a pure 212. i saw hope revive--and felt regeneration possible. from a flowery arch at the bottom of my garden i gazed over the sea--bluer than the sky: the old world was beyond; clear 213 opened thus:-
"'go,' said hope, 'and live again in europe: there it is not known what a sullied name you bear, nor what a 214 burden is bound to you. you may take the maniac with you to england; confine her with due attendance and precautions at thornfield: then travel yourself to what clime you will, and form what new tie you like. that woman, who has so abused your long-suffering, so sullied your name, so 216 your honour, so 217 your youth, is not your wife, nor are you her husband. see that she is cared for as her condition demands, and you have done all that god and humanity require of you. let her identity, her connection with yourself, be buried in oblivion: you are bound to impart them to no living being. place her in safety and comfort: shelter her 218 with 219, and leave her.'
"i acted 220 on this suggestion. my father and brother had not made my marriage known to their acquaintance; because, in the very first letter i wrote to 221 them of the union--having already begun to experience extreme disgust of its consequences, and, from the family character and constitution, seeing a hideous future opening to me--i added an urgent charge to keep it secret: and very soon the infamous conduct of the wife my father had selected for me was such as to make him blush to own her as his daughter-in-law. far from desiring to publish the connection, he became as anxious to conceal it as myself.
"to england, then, i conveyed her; a fearful voyage i had with such a monster in the 222. glad was i when i at last got her to thornfield, and saw her safely lodged in that third-storey room, of whose secret inner cabinet she has now for ten years made a wild beast's den--a goblin's cell. i had some trouble in finding an attendant for her, as it was necessary to select one on whose 223 224 could be placed; for her ravings would 225 betray my secret: besides, she had 226 227 of days--sometimes weeks--which she filled up with abuse of me. at last i hired grace poole from the grimbsy retreat. she and the surgeon, carter (who dressed mason's wounds that night he was stabbed and worried), are the only two i have ever admitted to my confidence. mrs. fairfax may indeed have suspected something, but she could have gained no precise knowledge as to facts. grace has, on the whole, proved a good keeper; though, owing partly to a fault of her own, of which it appears nothing can cure her, and which is incident to her 228 profession, her vigilance has been more than once 229 and baffled. the lunatic is both cunning and 230; she has never failed to take advantage of her guardian's temporary 231; once to 232 the knife with which she stabbed her brother, and twice to possess herself of the key of her cell, and issue therefrom in the night-time. on the first of these occasions, she perpetrated the attempt to burn me in my bed; on the second, she paid that ghastly visit to you. i thank 233, who watched over you, that she then spent her fury on your wedding apparel, which perhaps brought back vague reminiscences of her own bridal days: but on what might have happened, i cannot endure to reflect. when i think of the thing which flew at my throat this morning, hanging its black and 234 visage over the nest of my dove, my blood 235
"and what, sir," i asked, while he paused, "did you do when you had settled her here? where did you go?"
"what did i do, jane? i transformed myself into a will-o'-the-wisp. where did i go? i pursued wanderings as wild as those of the march- spirit. i sought the continent, and went 236 through all its lands. my fixed desire was to seek and find a good and intelligent woman, whom i could love: a contrast to the fury i left at thornfield--"
"but you could not marry, sir."
"i had 237 and was convinced that i could and ought. it was not my original intention to deceive, as i have deceived you. i meant to tell my tale plainly, and make my proposals openly: and it appeared to me so absolutely rational that i should be considered free to love and be loved, i never doubted some woman might be found willing and able to understand my case and accept me, in spite of the curse with which i was burdened."
"well, sir?"
"when you are 238, jane, you always make me smile. you open your eyes like an eager bird, and make every now and then a restless movement, as if answers in speech did not flow fast enough for you, and you wanted to read the tablet of one's heart. but before i go on, tell me what you mean by your 'well, sir?' it is a small phrase very frequent with you; and which many a time has 239 me on and on through interminable talk: i don't very well know why."
"i mean,--what next? how did you proceed? what came of such an event?"
"precisely! and what do you wish to know now?"
"whether you found any one you liked: whether you asked her to marry you; and what she said."
"i can tell you whether i found any one i liked, and whether i asked her to marry me: but what she said is yet to be recorded in the book of fate. for ten long years i roved about, living first in one capital, then another: sometimes in st. petersburg; oftener in paris; occasionally in rome, naples, and florence. provided with plenty of money and the passport of an old name, i could choose my own society: no circles were closed against me. i sought my ideal of a woman amongst english ladies, french countesses, italian signoras, and german grafinnen. i could not find her. sometimes, for a 240 moment, i thought i caught a glance, heard a tone, 241 a form, which announced the realisation of my dream: but i was presently undeserved. you are not to suppose that i desired perfection, either of mind or person. i longed only for what suited me--for the antipodes of the creole: and i longed vainly. amongst them all i found not one whom, had i been ever so free, i--warned as i was of the risks, the horrors, the loathings of incongruous unions--would have asked to marry me. disappointment made me reckless. i tried dissipation--never debauchery: that i hated, and hate. that was my indian messalina's attribute: rooted disgust at it and her restrained me much, even in pleasure. any 242 that bordered on riot seemed to approach me to her and her vices, and i eschewed it.
"yet i could not live alone; so i tried the companionship of mistresses. the first i chose was celine varens--another of those steps which make a man 243 himself when he recalls them. you already know what she was, and how my 244 with her terminated. she had two successors: an italian, giacinta, and a german, clara; both considered singularly handsome. what was their beauty to me in a few weeks? giacinta was unprincipled and violent: i tired of her in three months. clara was honest and quiet; but heavy, mindless, and unimpressible: not one 25 to my taste. i was glad to give her a sufficient sum to set her up in a good line of business, and so get decently rid of her. but, jane, i see by your face you are not forming a very 245 opinion of me just now. you think me an unfeeling, loose-principled rake: don't you?"
"i don't like you so well as i have done sometimes, indeed, sir. did it not seem to you in the least wrong to live in that way, first with one mistress and then another? you talk of it as a 58 matter of course."
"it was with me; and i did not like it. it was a grovelling fashion of existence: i should never like to return to it. hiring a mistress is the next worse thing to buying a slave: both are often by nature, and always by position, inferior: and to live familiarly with inferiors is degrading. i now hate the recollection of the time i passed with celine, giacinta, and clara."
i felt the truth of these words; and i drew from them the certain inference, that if i were so far to forget myself and all the teaching that had ever been 246 into me, as--under any pretext--with any justification--through any temptation--to become the successor of these poor girls, he would one day regard me with the same feeling which now in his mind 247 their memory. i did not give 248 to this conviction: it was enough to feel it. i impressed it on my heart, that it might remain there to serve me as aid in the time of trial.
"now, jane, why don't you say 'well, sir?' i have not done. you are looking grave. you 249 of me still, i see. but let me come to the point. last january, rid of all mistresses--in a harsh, bitter frame of mind, the result of a useless, roving, lonely life-- 250 with disappointment, sourly disposed against all men, and especially against all womankind (for i began to regard the notion of an intellectual, faithful, loving woman as a mere dream), recalled by business, i came back to england.
"on a frosty winter afternoon, i rode in sight of thornfield hall. abhorred spot! i expected no peace--no pleasure there. on a stile in hay lane i saw a quiet little figure sitting by itself. i passed it as 251 as i did the pollard 252 opposite to it: i had no 253 of what it would be to me; no inward warning that the arbitress of my life--my genius for good or evil--waited there in 254 255. i did not know it, even when, on the occasion of mesrour's accident, it came up and gravely offered me help. childish and slender creature! it seemed as if a linnet had 256 to my foot and proposed to bear me on its tiny wing. i was surly; but the thing would not go: it stood by me with strange 257, and looked and spoke with a sort of authority. i must be aided, and by that hand: and aided i was.
"when once i had pressed the 259 shoulder, something new--a fresh sap and sense--stole into my frame. it was well i had learnt that this elf must return to me--that it belonged to my house down below- -or i could not have felt it pass away from under my hand, and seen it vanish behind the dim hedge, without singular regret. i heard you come home that night, jane, though probably you were not aware that i thought of you or watched for you. the next day i observed you--myself unseen--for half-an-hour, while you played with adele in the gallery. it was a snowy day, i 52, and you could not go out of doors. i was in my room; the door was ajar: i could both listen and watch. adele claimed your outward attention for a while; yet i fancied your thoughts were elsewhere: but you were very patient with her, my little jane; you talked to her and amused her a long time. when at last she left you, you 260 at once into deep reverie: you betook yourself slowly to pace the gallery. now and then, in passing a casement, you glanced out at the thick-falling snow; you listened to the 261 wind, and again you paced gently on and dreamed. i think those day visions were not dark: there was a pleasurable illumination in your eye occasionally, a soft excitement in your aspect, which told of no bitter, 262, hypochondriac brooding: your look revealed rather the sweet musings of youth when its spirit follows on willing wings the flight of hope up and on to an ideal heaven. the voice of mrs. fairfax, speaking to a servant in the hall, wakened you: and how 263 you smiled to and at yourself, janet! there was much sense in your smile: it was very shrewd, and seemed to make light of your own abstraction. it seemed to say--'my fine visions are all very well, but i must not forget they are absolutely unreal. i have a 265 sky and a green flowery eden in my brain; but without, i am 266 aware, lies at my feet a rough 264 to travel, and around me gather black tempests to encounter.' you ran downstairs and demanded of mrs. fairfax some occupation: the weekly house accounts to make up, or something of that sort, i think it was. i was 267 with you for getting out of my sight.
"impatiently i waited for evening, when i might summon you to my presence. an unusual--to me--a perfectly new character i suspected was yours: i desired to search it deeper and know it better. you entered the room with a look and air at once shy and independent: you were 268 dressed--much as you are now. i made you talk: ere long i found you full of strange contrasts. your 269 and manner were restricted by rule; your air was often diffident, and altogether that of one refined by nature, but absolutely unused to society, and a good deal afraid of making herself disadvantageously 270 by some solecism or blunder; yet when addressed, you lifted a keen, a daring, and a glowing eye to your interlocutor's face: there was 271 and power in each glance you gave; when 272 by close questions, you found ready and round answers. very soon you seemed to get used to me: i believe you felt the existence of sympathy between you and your grim and cross master, jane; for it was astonishing to see how quickly a certain pleasant ease tranquillised your manner: 274 as i would, you showed no surprise, fear, 275, or displeasure at my 276; you watched me, and now and then smiled at me with a simple yet sagacious grace i cannot describe. i was at once content and stimulated with what i saw: i liked what i had seen, and wished to see more. yet, for a long time, i treated you distantly, and sought your company rarely. i was an intellectual 277, and wished to prolong the gratification of making this novel and 278 acquaintance: besides, i was for a while troubled with a haunting fear that if i handled the flower freely its bloom would fade--the sweet charm of freshness would leave it. i did not then know that it was no transitory blossom, but rather the radiant resemblance of one, cut in an indestructible 66. moreover, i wished to see whether you would seek me if i 279 you--but you did not; you kept in the schoolroom as still as your own desk and easel; if by chance i met you, you passed me as soon, and with as little token of recognition, as was consistent with respect. your 280 expression in those days, jane, was a thoughtful look; not 281, for you were not sickly; but not buoyant, for you had little hope, and no actual pleasure. i wondered what you thought of me, or if you ever thought of me, and resolved to find this out.
"i resumed my notice of you. there was something glad in your glance, and 282 in your manner, when you 283: i saw you had a social heart; it was the silent schoolroom--it was the 284 of your life--that made you mournful. i permitted myself the delight of being kind to you; kindness stirred emotion soon: your face became soft in expression, your tones gentle; i liked my name pronounced by your lips in a grateful happy accent. i used to enjoy a chance meeting with you, jane, at this time: there was a curious 285 in your manner: you glanced at me with a slight trouble- -a 286 doubt: you did not know what my caprice might be-- whether i was going to play the master and be stern, or the friend and be benignant. i was now too fond of you often to simulate the first 287; and, when i stretched my hand out cordially, such bloom and light and 288 rose to your young, wistful features, i had much ado often to avoid straining you then and there to my heart."
"don't talk any more of those days, sir," i interrupted, 289 dashing away some tears from my eyes; his language was torture to me; for i knew what i must do--and do soon--and all these reminiscences, and these revelations of his feelings only made my work more difficult.
"no, jane," he returned: "what necessity is there to dwell on the past, when the present is so much surer--the future so much brighter?"
i 290 to hear the infatuated assertion.
"you see now how the case stands--do you not?" he continued. "after a youth and manhood passed half in unutterable 291 and half in 292 solitude, i have for the first time found what i can truly love--i have found you. you are my sympathy--my better self--my good angel. i am bound to you with a strong attachment. i think you good, gifted, lovely: a 293, a solemn passion is conceived in my heart; it leans to you, draws you to my centre and spring of life, wraps my existence about you, and, 294 in pure, powerful flame, fuses you and me in one.
"it was because i felt and knew this, that i resolved to marry you. to tell me that i had already a wife is empty mockery: you know now that i had but a hideous demon. i was wrong to attempt to deceive you; but i feared a stubbornness that exists in your character. i feared early instilled prejudice: i wanted to have you safe before hazarding confidences. this was cowardly: i should have appealed to your nobleness and magnanimity at first, as i do now--opened to you plainly my life of agony--described to you my hunger and thirst after a higher and 295 existence--shown to you, not my resolution (that word is weak), but my resistless 296 to love faithfully and well, where i am faithfully and well loved in return. then i should have asked you to accept my pledge of fidelity and to give me yours. jane--give it me now."
a pause.
"why are you silent, jane?"
i was experiencing an 297: a hand of fiery iron grasped my vitals. terrible moment: full of struggle, blackness, burning! not a human being that ever lived could wish to be loved better than i was loved; and him who thus loved me i absolutely worshipped: and i must 298 love and 299. one drear word comprised my intolerable duty--"depart!"
"jane, you understand what i want of you? just this promise--'i will be yours, mr. rochester.'"
"mr. rochester, i will not be yours."
another long silence.
"jane!" recommenced he, with a gentleness that broke me down with grief, and turned me stone-cold with 300 terror--for this still voice was the pant of a lion rising--"jane, do you mean to go one way in the world, and to let me go another?"
"i do."
"jane" (bending towards and embracing me), "do you mean it now?"
"i do."
"and now?" softly kissing my forehead and cheek.
"i do," 301 myself from restraint rapidly and completely.
"oh, jane, this is bitter! this--this is wicked. it would not be wicked to love me."
"it would to obey you."
a wild look raised his brows--crossed his features: he rose; but he forebore yet. i laid my hand on the back of a chair for support: i shook, i feared--but i resolved.
"one instant, jane. give one glance to my horrible life when you are gone. all happiness will be torn away with you. what then is left? for a wife i have but the maniac upstairs: as well might you refer me to some 302 in yonder churchyard. what shall i do, jane? where turn for a companion and for some hope?"
"do as i do: trust in god and yourself. believe in heaven. hope to meet again there."
"then you will not yield?"
"no."
"then you 303 me to live wretched and to die accursed?" his voice rose.
"i advise you to live sinless, and i wish you to die 273."
"then you snatch love and 304 from me? you fling me back on 305 for a passion--vice for an occupation?"
"mr. rochester, i no more assign this fate to you than i grasp at it for myself. we were born to strive and endure--you as well as i: do so. you will forget me before i forget you."
"you make me a 73 by such language: you sully my honour. i declared i could not change: you tell me to my face i shall change soon. and what a distortion in your 306, what a 307 in your ideas, is proved by your conduct! is it better to drive a fellow-creature to despair than to 308 a mere human law, no man being injured by the 309? for you have neither relatives nor acquaintances whom you need fear to offend by living with me?"
this was true: and while he spoke my very conscience and reason turned 310 against me, and charged me with crime in resisting him. they spoke almost as loud as feeling: and that clamoured wildly. "oh, comply!" it said. "think of his misery; think of his danger--look at his state when left alone; remember his headlong nature; consider the recklessness following on despair--soothe him; save him; love him; tell him you love him and will be his. who in the world cares for you? or who will be injured by what you do?"
still indomitable was the reply--"i care for myself. the more 311, the more friendless, the more unsustained i am, the more i will respect myself. i will keep the law given by god; sanctioned by man. i will hold to the principles received by me when i was 205, and not mad--as i am now. laws and principles are not for the times when there is no temptation: they are for such moments as this, when body and soul rise in mutiny against their rigour; 312 are they; 313 they shall be. if at my individual convenience i might break them, what would be their worth? they have a worth--so i have always believed; and if i cannot believe it now, it is because i am insane--quite insane: with my 315 running fire, and my heart beating faster than i can count its throbs. preconceived opinions, foregone determinations, are all i have at this hour to stand by: there i plant my foot."
i did. mr. rochester, reading my countenance, saw i had done so. his fury was 316 to the highest: he must yield to it for a moment, whatever followed; he crossed the floor and seized my arm and grasped my waist. he seemed to devour me with his flaming glance: physically, i felt, at the moment, powerless as stubble exposed to the draught and glow of a furnace: mentally, i still 317 my soul, and with it the certainty of ultimate safety. the soul, fortunately, has an interpreter--often an unconscious, but still a 318 interpreter--in the eye. my eye rose to his; and while i looked in his fierce face i gave an involuntary sigh; his gripe was painful, and my over-taxed strength almost 319.
"never," said he, as he ground his teeth, "never was anything at once so frail and so indomitable. a mere reed she feels in my hand!" (and he shook me with the force of his hold.) "i could bend her with my finger and thumb: and what good would it do if i bent, if i uptore, if i crushed her? consider that eye: consider the resolute, wild, free thing looking out of it, defying me, with more than courage--with a stern triumph. whatever i do with its cage, i cannot get at it--the 320, beautiful creature! if i tear, if i 37 the slight prison, my 215 will only let the captive loose. 321 i might be of the house; but the inmate would escape to heaven before i could call myself possessor of its clay dwelling- place. and it is you, spirit--with will and energy, and virtue and purity--that i want: not alone your 322 frame. of yourself you could come with soft flight and nestle against my heart, if you would: seized against your will, you will 323 the grasp like an essence--you will vanish ere i 324 your 325. oh! come, jane, come!"
as he said this, he released me from his clutch, and only looked at me. the look was far worse to resist than the frantic strain: only an idiot, however, would have 326 now. i had dared and baffled his fury; i must elude his sorrow: i retired to the door.
"you are going, jane?"
"i am going, sir."
"you are leaving me?"
"yes."
"you will not come? you will not be my comforter, my rescuer? my deep love, my wild woe, my frantic prayer, are all nothing to you?"
what unutterable 327 was in his voice! how hard it was to 83 firmly, "i am going."
"jane!"
"mr. rochester!"
"withdraw, then,--i consent; but remember, you leave me here in anguish. go up to your own room; think over all i have said, and, jane, cast a glance on my sufferings--think of me."
he turned away; he threw himself on his face on the sofa. "oh, jane! my hope--my love--my life!" broke in anguish from his lips. then came a deep, strong sob.
i had already gained the door; but, reader, i walked back--walked back as 328 as i had retreated. i knelt down by him; i turned his face from the cushion to me; i kissed his cheek; i smoothed his hair with my hand.
"god bless you, my dear master!" i said. "god keep you from harm and wrong--direct you, 329 you--reward you well for your past kindness to me."
"little jane's love would have been my best reward," he answered; "without it, my heart is broken. but jane will give me her love: yes--nobly, generously."
up the blood rushed to his face; 330 flashed the fire from his eyes; erect he sprang; he held his arms out; but i 331 the embrace, and at once quitted the room.
"farewell!" was the cry of my heart as i left him. despair added, "farewell for ever!"
that night i never thought to sleep; but a 332 fell on me as soon as i lay down in bed. i was transported in thought to the scenes of childhood: i dreamt i lay in the red-room at gateshead; that the night was dark, and my mind impressed with strange fears. the light that long ago had struck me into syncope, recalled in this vision, seemed glidingly to mount the wall, and tremblingly to pause in the centre of the obscured ceiling. i lifted up my head to look: the roof resolved to clouds, high and dim; the gleam was such as the moon imparts to vapours she is about to 258. i watched her come-- watched with the strangest 333; as though some word of doom were to be written on her disk. she broke forth as never moon yet burst from cloud: a hand first 334 the 335 folds and waved them away; then, not a moon, but a white human form shone in the 336, inclining a glorious brow earthward. it gazed and gazed on me. it spoke to my spirit: immeasurably distant was the tone, yet so near, it whispered in my heart -
"my daughter, flee temptation."
"mother, i will."
so i answered after i had waked from the trance-like dream. it was yet night, but july nights are short: soon after midnight, dawn comes. "it cannot be too early to commence the task i have to fulfil," thought i. i rose: i was dressed; for i had taken off nothing but my shoes. i knew where to find in my drawers some 337, a locket, a ring. in seeking these articles, i encountered the 338 of a pearl necklace mr. rochester had forced me to accept a few days ago. i left that; it was not mine: it was the visionary bride's who had melted in air. the other articles i made up in a parcel; my purse, containing twenty shillings (it was all i had), i put in my pocket: i tied on my straw 339, pinned my shawl, took the parcel and my 340, which i would not put on yet, and stole from my room.
"farewell, kind mrs. fairfax!" i whispered, as i 341 past her door. "farewell, my darling adele!" i said, as i glanced towards the nursery. no thought could be admitted of entering to embrace her. i had to deceive a fine ear: for aught i knew it might now be listening.
i would have got past mr. rochester's chamber without a pause; but my heart momentarily stopping its beat at that threshold, my foot was forced to stop also. no sleep was there: the inmate was walking restlessly from wall to wall; and again and again he sighed while i listened. there was a heaven--a temporary heaven--in this room for me, if i chose: i had but to go in and to say -
"mr. rochester, i will love you and live with you through life till death," and a fount of 342 would spring to my lips. i thought of this.
that kind master, who could not sleep now, was waiting with 343 for day. he would send for me in the morning; i should be gone. he would have me sought for: vainly. he would feel himself 344; his love rejected: he would suffer; perhaps grow desperate. i thought of this too. my hand moved towards the lock: i caught it back, and glided on.
345 i wound my way downstairs: i knew what i had to do, and i did it mechanically. i sought the key of the side-door in the kitchen; i sought, too, a phial of oil and a feather; i oiled the key and the lock. i got some water, i got some bread: for perhaps i should have to walk far; and my strength, sorely shaken of late, must not break down. all this i did without one sound. i opened the door, passed out, shut it softly. dim dawn 346 in the yard. the great gates were closed and locked; but a wicket in one of them was only 347. through that i departed: it, too, i shut; and now i was out of thornfield.
a mile off, beyond the fields, lay a road which stretched in the contrary direction to millcote; a road i had never travelled, but often noticed, and wondered where it led: 348 i bent my steps. no reflection was to be allowed now: not one glance was to be cast back; not even one forward. not one thought was to be given either to the past or the future. the first was a page so heavenly sweet-- so deadly sad--that to read one line of it would dissolve my courage and break down my energy. the last was an awful blank: something like the world when the 349 was gone by.
i skirted fields, and hedges, and lanes till after sunrise. i believe it was a lovely summer morning: i know my shoes, which i had put on when i left the house, were soon wet with dew. but i looked neither to rising sun, nor smiling sky, nor wakening nature. he who is taken out to pass through a fair scene to the scaffold, thinks not of the flowers that smile on his road, but of the block and axe-edge; of the disseverment of bone and 314; of the grave 350 at the end: and i thought of drear flight and homeless wandering--and oh! with agony i thought of what i left. i could not help it. i thought of him now--in his room--watching the sunrise; hoping i should soon come to say i would stay with him and be his. i longed to be his; i panted to return: it was not too late; i could yet spare him the bitter pang of 351. as yet my flight, i was sure, was undiscovered. i could go back and be his comforter--his pride; his redeemer from misery, perhaps from ruin. oh, that fear of his self-abandonment--far worse than my abandonment--how it 352 me! it was a barbed arrow-head in my breast; it tore me when i tried to extract it; it sickened me when remembrance thrust it farther in. birds began singing in brake and copse: birds were faithful to their mates; birds were 353 of love. what was i? in the midst of my pain of heart and frantic effort of principle, i abhorred myself. i had no solace from self- 354: none even from self-respect. i had injured--wounded-- left my master. i was hateful in my own eyes. still i could not turn, nor 355 one step. god must have led me on. as to my own will or conscience, impassioned grief had 356 one and 357 the other. i was weeping wildly as i walked along my solitary way: fast, fast i went like one 358. a weakness, beginning inwardly, extending to the limbs, seized me, and i fell: i lay on the ground some minutes, pressing my face to the wet turf. i had some fear--or hope--that here i should die: but i was soon up; crawling forwards on my hands and knees, and then again raised to my feet--as eager and as determined as ever to reach the road.
when i got there, i was forced to sit to rest me under the hedge; and while i sat, i heard wheels, and saw a coach come on. i stood up and lifted my hand; it stopped. i asked where it was going: the driver named a place a long way off, and where i was sure mr. rochester had no connections. i asked for what sum he would take me there; he said thirty shillings; i answered i had but twenty; well, he would try to make it do. he further gave me leave to get into the inside, as the vehicle was empty: i entered, was shut in, and it rolled on its way.
gentle reader, may you never feel what i then felt! may your eyes never shed such stormy, scalding, heart-wrung tears as poured from mine. may you never appeal to heaven in prayers so hopeless and so agonised as in that hour left my lips; for never may you, like me, dread to be the instrument of evil to what you wholly love.
收听单词发音 
