简.爱 英文版 Jane Eyre
夏洛蒂.勃朗特 Charlotte Bronte
CHAPTER XIX
The library looked tranquil enough as I entered it, and the Sibyl-- if Sibyl she were -- was seated snugly enough in an easy-chairat the chimney-corner. She had on a red cloak and a black bonnet:or rather, a broad-brimmed gipsy hat, tied down with a stripedhandkerchief under her chin. An extinguished candle stood onthe table; she was bending over the fire, and seemed reading in alittle black book, like a prayer-book, by the light of the blaze:she muttered the words to herself, as most old women do, while sheread; she did not desist immediately on my entrance: it appearedshe wished to finish a paragraph.
I stood on the rug and warmed my hands, which were rather cold withsitting at a distance from the drawing-room fire. I felt now ascomposed as ever I did in my life: there was nothing indeed inthe gipsy's appearance to trouble one's calm. She shut her bookand slowly looked up; her hat-brim partially shaded her face, yetI could see, as she raised it, that it was a strange one. It lookedall brown and black: elf-locks bristled out from beneath a whiteband which passed under her chin, and came half over her cheeks,or rather jaws: her eye confronted me at once, with a bold anddirect gaze.
"Well, and you want your fortune told?" she said, in a voice asdecided as her glance, as harsh as her features.
"I don't care about it, mother; you may please yourself: but Iought to warn you, I have no faith. "
"It's like your impudence to say so: I expected it of you; I heardit in your step as you crossed the threshold. "
"Did you? You've a quick ear. "
"I have; and a quick eye and a quick brain. "
"You need them all in your trade. "
Whydon't you tremble.
"I do; especially when I've customers like you to deal with. Whydon't you tremble?"
"I'm not cold. "
"Why don't you turn pale?"
"I am not sick. "
"Why don't you consult my art?"
"I'm not silly. "
The old crone "nichered" a laugh under her bonnet and bandage; shethen drew out a short black pipe, and lighting it began to smoke.Having indulged a while in this sedative, she raised her bent body,took the pipe from her lips, and while gazing steadily at the fire,said very deliberately -- "You are cold; you are sick; and you aresilly. "
"Prove it, " I rejoined.
"I will, in few words. You are cold, because you are alone: nocontact strikes the fire from you that is in you. You are sick;because the best of feelings, the highest and the sweetest givento man, keeps far away from you. You are silly, because, sufferas you may, you will not beckon it to approach, nor will you stirone step to meet it where it waits you. "
She again put her short black pipe to her lips, and renewed hersmoking with vigour.
"You might say all that to almost any one who you knew lived as asolitary dependent in a great house. "
"I might say it to almost any one: but would it be true of almostany one?"
"In my circumstances. "
"Yes; just so, in YOUR circumstances: but find me another preciselyplaced as you are. "
"It would be easy to find you thousands. "
"You could scarcely find me one. If you knew it, you are peculiarlysituated: very near happiness; yes, within reach of it. Thematerials are all prepared; there only wants a movement to combinethem. Chance laid them somewhat apart; let them be once approachedand bliss results. "
"I don't understand enigmas. I never could guess a riddle in mylife. "
"If you wish me to speak more plainly, show me your palm. "
"And I must cross it with silver, I suppose?"
"To be sure. "
I gave her a shilling: she put it into an old stocking-foot whichshe took out of her pocket, and having tied it round and returnedit, she told me to hold out my hand. I did. She arched her faceto the palm, and pored over it without touching it.
"It is too fine, " said she. "I can make nothing of such a hand asthat; almost without lines: besides, what is in a palm? Destinyis not written there. "
"I believe you, " said I.
"No, " she continued, "it is in the face: on the forehead, aboutthe eyes, in the lines of the mouth. Kneel, and lift up your head. "
"Ah! now you are coming to reality, " I said, as I obeyed her. "Ishall begin to put some faith in you presently. "
I knelt within half a yard of her. She stirred the fire, sothat a ripple of light broke from the disturbed coal: the glare,however, as she sat, only threw her face into deeper shadow: mine,it illumined.
"I wonder with what feelings you came to me to-night, " she said,when she had examined me a while. "I wonder what thoughts are busyin your heart during all the hours you sit in yonder room with thefine people flitting before you like shapes in a magic-lantern:just as little sympathetic communion passing between you and themas if they were really mere shadows of human forms, and not theactual substance. "
"I feel tired often, sleepy sometimes, but seldom sad. "
"Then you have some secret hope to buoy you up and please you withwhispers of the future?"
"Not I. The utmost I hope is, to save money enough out of my earningsto set up a school some day in a little house rented by myself. "
"A mean nutriment for the spirit to exist on: and sittingin that window-seat (you see I know your habits ) -- "
"You have learned them from the servants. "
"Ah! you think yourself sharp. Well, perhaps I have: to speaktruth, I have an acquaintance with one of them, Mrs. Poole -- "
I started to my feet when I heard the name.
"You have -- have you?" thought I; "there is diablerie in thebusiness after all, then!"
"Don't be alarmed, " continued the strange being; "she's a safehand is Mrs. Poole: close and quiet; any one may repose confidencein her. But, as I was saying: sitting in that window-seat, doyou think of nothing but your future school? Have you no presentinterest in any of the company who occupy the sofas and chairsbefore you? Is there not one face you study? one figure whosemovements you follow with at least curiosity?"
"I like to observe all the faces and all the figures. "
"But do you never single one from the rest -- or it may be, two?"
"I do frequently; when the gestures or looks of a pair seem tellinga tale: it amuses me to watch them. "
"What tale do you like best to hear?"
"Oh, I have not much choice! They generally run on the same theme-- courtship; and promise to end in the same catastrophe -- marriage. "
"And do you like that monotonous theme?"
"Positively, I don't care about it: it is nothing to me. "
"Nothing to you? When a lady, young and full of life andhealth, charming with beauty and endowed with the gifts of rankand fortune, sits and smiles in the eyes of a gentleman you -- "
"I what?"
"You know -- and perhaps think well of. "
"I don't know the gentlemen here. I have scarcely interchangeda syllable with one of them; and as to thinking well of them, Iconsider some respectable, and stately, and middle-aged, and othersyoung, dashing, handsome, and lively: but certainly they are allat liberty to be the recipients of whose smiles they please, withoutmy feeling disposed to consider the transaction of any moment tome. "
feel ill, sir?" I inquired.chairsbefore?
"You don't know the gentlemen here? You have not exchanged asyllable with one of them? Will you say that of the master of thehouse!"
"He is not at home. "
"A profound remark! A most ingenious quibble! He went to Millcotethis morning, and will be back here to-night or to-morrow: doesthat circumstance exclude him from the list of your acquaintance-- blot him, as it were, out of existence?"
"No; but I can scarcely see what Mr. Rochester has to do with thetheme you had introduced. "
"I was talking of ladies smiling in the eyes of gentlemen; and oflate so many smiles have been shed into Mr. Rochester's eyes thatthey overflow like two cups filled above the brim: have you neverremarked that?"
"Mr. Rochester has a right to enjoy the society of his guests. "
"No question about his right: but have you never observed that,of all the tales told here about matrimony, Mr. Rochester has beenfavoured with the most lively and the most continuous?"
"The eagerness of a listener quickens the tongue of a narrator. " Isaid this rather to myself than to the gipsy, whose strange talk,voice, manner, had by this time wrapped me in a kind of dream. Oneunexpected sentence came from her lips after another, till I gotinvolved in a web of mystification; and wondered what unseen spirithad been sitting for weeks by my heart watching its workings andtaking record of every pulse.
"Eagerness of a listener!" repeated she: "yes; Mr. Rochester hassat by the hour, his ear inclined to the fascinating lips that tooksuch delight in their task of communicating; and Mr. Rochester wasso willing to receive and looked so grateful for the pastime givenhim; you have noticed this?"
"Grateful! I cannot remember detecting gratitude in his face. "
"Detecting! You have analysed, then. And what did you detect, ifnot gratitude?"
I said nothing.
"You have seen love: have you not? -- and, looking forward, youhave seen him married, and beheld his bride happy?"
"Humph! Not exactly. Your witch's skill is rather at faultsometimes. "
"What the devil have you seen, then?"
"Never mind: I came here to inquire, not to confess. Is it knownthat Mr. Rochester is to be married?"
"Yes; and to the beautiful Miss Ingram. "
"Shortly?"
"Appearances would warrant that conclusion: and, no doubt (though,with an audacity that wants chastising out of you, you seem toquestion it), they will be a superlatively happy pair. He mustlove such a handsome, noble, witty, accomplished lady; and probablyshe loves him, or, if not his person, at least his purse. I knowshe considers the Rochester estate eligible to the last degree;though (God pardon me!) I told her something on that point aboutan hour ago which made her look wondrous grave: the corners of hermouth fell half an inch. I would advise her blackaviced suitor tolook out: if another comes, with a longer or clearer rent-roll,-- he's dished -- "
"But, mother, I did not come to hear Mr. Rochester's fortune: Icame to hear my own; and you have told me nothing of it. "
"Your fortune is yet doubtful: when I examined your face, one traitcontradicted another. Chance has meted you a measure of happiness:that I know. I knew it before I came here this evening. She haslaid it carefully on one side for you. I saw her do it. It dependson yourself to stretch out your hand, and take it up: but whetheryou will do so, is the problem I study. Kneel again on the rug. "
"Don't keep me long; the fire scorches me. "
I knelt. She did not stoop towards me, but only gazed,leaning back in her chair. She began muttering, -
"The flame flickers in the eye; the eye shines like dew; it lookssoft and full of feeling; it smiles at my jargon: it is susceptible;impression follows impression through its clear sphere; where itceases to smile, it is sad; an unconscious lassitude weighs on thelid: that signifies melancholy resulting from loneliness. It turnsfrom me; it will not suffer further scrutiny; it seems to deny,by a mocking glance, the truth of the discoveries I have alreadymade, -- to disown the charge both of sensibility and chagrin:its pride and reserve only confirm me in my opinion. The eye isfavourable.
"As to the mouth, it delights at times in laughter; it is disposedto impart all that the brain conceives; though I daresay it wouldbe silent on much the heart experiences. Mobile and flexible,it was never intended to be compressed in the eternal silence ofsolitude: it is a mouth which should speak much and smile often,and have human affection for its interlocutor. That feature toois propitious.
"I see no enemy to a fortunate issue but in the brow; and thatbrow professes to say, -- 'I can live alone, if self-respect, andcircumstances require me so to do. I need not sell my soul to buybliss. I have an inward treasure born with me, which can keep mealive if all extraneous delights should be withheld, or offeredonly at a price I cannot afford to give. ' The forehead declares,'Reason sits firm and holds the reins, and she will not let thefeelings burst away and hurry her to wild chasms. The passions mayrage furiously, like true heathens, as they are; and the desiresmay imagine all sorts of vain things: but judgment shall stillhave the last word in every argument, and the casting vote inevery decision. Strong wind, earthquake-shock, and fire may passby: but I shall follow the guiding of that still small voice whichinterprets the dictates of conscience. '
"Well said, forehead; your declaration shall be respected. I haveformed my plans -- right plans I deem them -- and in them I haveattended to the claims of conscience, the counsels of reason. Iknow how soon youth would fade and bloom perish, if, in the cupof bliss offered, but one dreg of shame, or one flavour of remorsewere detected; and I do not want sacrifice, sorrow, dissolution --such is not my taste. I wish to foster, not to blight -- to earngratitude, not to wring tears of blood -- no, nor of brine: myharvest must be in smiles, in endearments, in sweet -- That willdo. I think I rave in a kind of exquisite delirium. I should wishnow to protract this moment ad infinitum; but I dare not. So farI have governed myself thoroughly. I have acted as I inwardly sworeI would act; but further might try me beyond my strength. Rise,Miss Eyre: leave me; the play is played out'. "
Where was I? Did I wake or sleep? Had I been dreaming? Did Idream still? The old woman's voice had changed: her accent, hergesture, and all were familiar to me as my own face in a glass-- as the speech of my own tongue. I got up, but did not go. Ilooked; I stirred the fire, and I looked again: but she drew herbonnet and her bandage closer about her face, and again beckoned meto depart. The flame illuminated her hand stretched out: rousednow, and on the alert for discoveries, I at once noticed thathand. It was no more the withered limb of eld than my own; it wasa rounded supple member, with smooth fingers, symmetrically turned;a broad ring flashed on the little finger, and stooping forward,I looked at it, and saw a gem I had seen a hundred times before.Again I looked at the face; which was no longer turned from me --on the contrary, the bonnet was doffed, the bandage displaced, thehead advanced.
"Well, Jane, do you know me?" asked the familiar voice.
"Only take off the red cloak, sir, and then -- "
"But the string is in a knot -- help me. "
"Break it, sir. "
"There, then -- 'Off, ye lendings!'" And Mr. Rochester steppedout of his disguise.
"Now, sir, what a strange idea!"
"But well carried out, eh? Don't you think so?"
"With the ladies you must have managed well. "
"But not with you?"
"You did not act the character of a gipsy with me. "
"What character did I act? My own?"
"No; some unaccountable one. In short, I believe you have beentrying to draw me out -- or in; you have been talking nonsense tomake me talk nonsense. It is scarcely fair, sir. "
"Do you forgive me, Jane?"
"I cannot tell till I have thought it all over. If, on reflection,I find I have fallen into no great absurdity, I shall try to forgiveyou; but it was not right. "
"Oh, you have been very correct -- very careful, very sensible. "
I reflected, and thought, on the whole, I had. It was a comfort;but, indeed, I had been on my guard almost from the beginning ofthe interview. Something of masquerade I suspected. I knew gipsiesand fortune-tellers did not express themselves as this seeming oldwoman had expressed herself; besides I had noted her feigned voice,her anxiety to conceal her features. But my mind had been runningon Grace Poole -- that living enigma, that mystery of mysteries,as I considered her. I had never thought of Mr. Rochester.
"Well, " said he, "what are you musing about? What does that gravesmile signify?"
"No; stay a moment; and tell me what the people in the drawing-roomyonder are doing. "
"Discussing the gipsy, I daresay. "
"Sit down! -- Let me hear what they said about me. "
"I had better not stay long, sir; it must be near eleven o'clock.Oh, are you aware, Mr. Rochester, that a stranger has arrived heresince you left this morning?"
"A stranger! -- no; who can it be? I expected no one; is he gone?"
"No; he said he had known you long, and that he could take theliberty of installing himself here till you returned. "
"The devil he did! Did he give his name?"
"His name is Mason, sir; and he comes from the West Indies; fromSpanish Town, in Jamaica, I think. "
Mr. Rochester was standing near me; he had taken my hand, as ifto lead me to a chair. As I spoke he gave my wrist a convulsivegrip; the smile on his lips froze: apparently a spasm caught hisbreath.
"Mason! -- the West Indies!" he said, in the tone one might fancya speaking automaton to enounce its single words; "Mason! -- theWest Indies!" he reiterated; and he went over the syllables threetimes, growing, in the intervals of speaking, whiter than ashes:he hardly seemed to know what he was doing.
"Do you feel ill, sir?" I inquired.
"Jane, I've got a blow; I've got a blow, Jane!" He staggered.
"Oh, lean on me, sir. "
"Jane, you offered me your shoulder once before; let me have itnow. "
"Yes, sir, yes; and my arm. "
He sat down, and made me sit beside him. Holding my hand in bothhis own, he chafed it; gazing on me, at the same time, with themost troubled and dreary look.
"My little friend!" said he, "I wish I were in a quiet islandwith only you; and trouble, and danger, and hideous recollectionsremoved from me. "
"Can I help you, sir? -- I'd give my life to serve you. "
"Jane, if aid is wanted, I'll seek it at your hands; I promise youthat. "
like your impudence to.
"Thank you, sir. Tell me what to do, -- I'll try, at least, to doit. "
"Fetch me now, Jane, a glass of wine from the dining-room: theywill be at supper there; and tell me if Mason is with them, andwhat he is doing. "
I went. I found all the party in the dining-room at supper, as Mr.Rochester had said; they were not seated at table, -- the supper wasarranged on the sideboard; each had taken what he chose, and theystood about here and there in groups, their plates and glasses intheir hands. Every one seemed in high glee; laughter and conversationwere general and animated. Mr. Mason stood near the fire, talkingto Colonel and Mrs. Dent, and appeared as merry as any of them. Ifilled a wine-glass (I saw Miss Ingram watch me frowningly as I didso: she thought I was taking a liberty, I daresay), and I returnedto the library.
Mr. Rochester's extreme pallor had disappeared, and he looked oncemore firm and stern. He took the glass from my hand.
"Here is to your health, ministrant spirit!" he said. He swallowedthe contents and returned it to me. "What are they doing, Jane?"
"Laughing and talking, sir. "
"They don't look grave and mysterious, as if they had heard somethingstrange?"
"Not at all: they are full of jests and gaiety. "
"And Mason?"
"He was laughing too. "
"If all these people came in a body and spat at me, what would youdo, Jane?"
"Turn them out of the room, sir, if I could. "
He half smiled. "But if I were to go to them, and they only lookedat me coldly, and whispered sneeringly amongst each other, and thendropped off and left me one by one, what then? Would you go withthem?"
"I rather think not, sir: I should have more pleasure in stayingwith you. "
"To comfort me?"
"Yes, sir, to comfort you, as well as I could. "
"And if they laid you under a ban for adhering to me?"
"Then, you could dare censure for my sake?"
"I could dare it for the sake of any friend who deserved my adherence;as you, I am sure, do. "
"Go back now into the room; step quietly up to Mason, and whisperin his ear that Mr. Rochester is come and wishes to see him: showhim in here and then leave me. "
"Yes, sir. "
I did his behest. The company all stared at me as I passed straightamong them. I sought Mr. Mason, delivered the message, and precededhim from the room: I ushered him into the library, and then I wentupstairs.
At a late hour, after I had been in bed some time, I heard thevisitors repair to their chambers: I distinguished Mr. Rochester'svoice, and heard him say, "This way, Mason; this is your room. "
He spoke cheerfully: the gay tones set my heart at ease. I wassoon asleep.