简.爱 英文版 Jane Eyre
夏洛蒂.勃朗特 Charlotte Bronte
CHAPTER XXI Page 3
It was a wet and windy afternoon: Georgiana had fallen asleep onthe sofa over the perusal of a novel; Eliza was gone to attend asaint's-day service at the new church -- for in matters of religionshe was a rigid formalist: no weather ever prevented the punctualdischarge of what she considered her devotional duties; fair or foul,she went to church thrice every Sunday, and as often on week-daysas there were prayers.
I bethought myself to go upstairs and see how the dying woman sped,who lay there almost unheeded: the very servants paid her but aremittent attention: the hired nurse, being little looked after,would slip out of the room whenever she could. Bessie was faithful;but she had her own family to mind, and could only come occasionallyto the hall. I found the sick-room unwatched, as I had expected:no nurse was there; the patient lay still, and seemingly lethargic;her livid face sunk in the pillows: the fire was dying in thegrate. I renewed the fuel, re-arranged the bedclothes, gazed awhileon her who could not now gaze on me, and then I moved away to thewindow.
The rain beat strongly against the panes, the wind blew tempestuously:"One lies there, " I thought, "who will soon be beyond the war ofearthly elements. Whither will that spirit -- now struggling toquit its material tenement -- flit when at length released?"
In pondering the great mystery, I thought of Helen Burns, recalledher dying words -- her faith -- her doctrine of the equalityof disembodied souls. I was still listening in thought to herwell-remembered tones -- still picturing her pale and spiritualaspect, her wasted face and sublime gaze, as she lay on her placiddeathbed, and whispered her longing to be restored to her divineFather's bosom -- when a feeble voice murmured from the couchbehind: "Who is that?"
I knew Mrs. Reed had not spoken for days: was she reviving? Iwent up to her.
"It is I, Aunt Reed. "
"Who -- I?" was her answer. "Who are you?" looking at me withsurprise and a sort of alarm, but still not wildly. "You are quitea stranger to me -- where is Bessie?"
"She is at the lodge, aunt. "
"Aunt, " she repeated. "Who calls me aunt? You are not one of theGibsons; and yet I know you -- that face, and the eyes and forehead,are quiet familiar to me: you are like -- why, you are like JaneEyre!"
I said nothing: I was afraid of occasioning some shock by declaringmy identity.
"Yet, " said she, "I am afraid it is a mistake: my thoughts deceiveme. I wished to see Jane Eyre, and I fancy a likeness where noneexists: besides, in eight years she must be so changed. " I nowgently assured her that I was the person she supposed and desiredme to be: and seeing that I was understood, and that her senseswere quite collected, I explained how Bessie had sent her husbandto fetch me from Thornfield.
"I am very ill, I know, " she said ere long. "I was trying to turnmyself a few minutes since, and find I cannot move a limb. It isas well I should ease my mind before I die: what we think littleof in health, burdens us at such an hour as the present is to me.Is the nurse here? or is there no one in the room but you?"
I assured her we were alone.
"Well, I have twice done you a wrong which I regret now. One wasin breaking the promise which I gave my husband to bring you up asmy own child; the other -- " she stopped. "After all, it is of nogreat importance, perhaps, " she murmured to herself: "and then Imay get better; and to humble myself so to her is painful. "
She made an effort to alter her position, but failed: her facechanged; she seemed to experience some inward sensation -- theprecursor, perhaps, of the last pang.
"Well, I must get it over. Eternity is before me: I had bettertell her. -- Go to my dressing-case, open it, and take out a letteryou will see there. "
I obeyed her directions. "Read the letter, " she said.
It was short, and thus conceived:-
"Madam, -- Will you have the goodness to send me the address of myniece, Jane Eyre, and to tell me how she is? It is my intention towrite shortly and desire her to come to me at Madeira. Providencehas blessed my endeavours to secure a competency; and as I amunmarried and childless, I wish to adopt her during my life, andbequeath her at my death whatever I may have to leave. -- I am,Madam, &c. , &c. ,
"JOHN EYRE, Madeira. "
It was dated three years back.
"Why did I never hear of this?" I asked.
"Because I disliked you too fixedly and thoroughly ever to lend ahand in lifting you to prosperity. I could not forget your conductto me, Jane -- the fury with which you once turned on me; the tonein which you declared you abhorred me the worst of anybody in theworld; the unchildlike look and voice with which you affirmed thatthe very thought of me made you sick, and asserted that I had treatedyou with miserable cruelty. I could not forget my own sensationswhen you thus started up and poured out the venom of your mind: Ifelt fear as if an animal that I had struck or pushed had lookedup at me with human eyes and cursed me in a man's voice. -- Bringme some water! Oh, make haste!"
"Dear Mrs. Reed, " said I, as I offered her the draught sherequired, "think no more of all this, let it pass away from yourmind. Forgive me for my passionate language: I was a child then;eight, nine years have passed since that day. "
She heeded nothing of what I said; but when she had tastedthe water and drawn breath, she went on thus -
"I tell you I could not forget it; and I took my revenge: foryou to be adopted by your uncle, and placed in a state of easeand comfort, was what I could not endure. I wrote to him; I saidI was sorry for his disappointment, but Jane Eyre was dead: shehad died of typhus fever at Lowood. Now act as you please: writeand contradict my assertion -- expose my falsehood as soon as youlike. You were born, I think, to be my torment: my last hour isracked by the recollection of a deed which, but for you, I shouldnever have been tempted to commit. "
"If you could but be persuaded to think no more of it, aunt, andto regard me with kindness and forgiveness"
"You have a very bad disposition, " said she, "and one to this dayI feel it impossible to understand: how for nine years you couldbe patient and quiescent under any treatment, and in the tenthbreak out all fire and violence, I can never comprehend. "
"My disposition is not so bad as you think: I am passionate, butnot vindictive. Many a time, as a little child, I should have beenglad to love you if you would have let me; and I long earnestly tobe reconciled to you now: kiss me, aunt. "
"Love me, then, or hate me, as you will, " I said at last, "you havemy full and free forgiveness: ask now for God's, and be at peace. "
Poor, suffering woman! it was too late for her to make now theeffort to change her habitual frame of mind: living, she had everhated me -- dying, she must hate me still.
The nurse now entered, and Bessie followed. I yet lingeredhalf-an-hour longer, hoping to see some sign of amity: but shegave none. She was fast relapsing into stupor; nor did her mindagain rally: at twelve o'clock that night she died. I was notpresent to close her eyes, nor were either of her daughters. Theycame to tell us the next morning that all was over. She was bythat time laid out. Eliza and I went to look at her: Georgiana,who had burst out into loud weeping, said she dared not go. Therewas stretched Sarah Reed's once robust and active frame, rigid andstill: her eye of flint was covered with its cold lid; her browand strong traits wore yet the impress of her inexorable soul.A strange and solemn object was that corpse to me. I gazed on itwith gloom and pain: nothing soft, nothing sweet, nothing pitying,or hopeful, or subduing did it inspire; only a grating anguishfor HER woes -- not MY loss -- and a sombre tearless dismay at thefearfulness of death in such a form.
Eliza surveyed her parent calmly. After a silence of someminutes she observed -
"With her constitution she should have lived to a good old age:her life was shortened by trouble. " And then a spasm constrictedher mouth for an instant: as it passed away she turned and leftthe room, and so did I. Neither of us had dropt a tear.