简.爱 英文版 Jane Eyre
夏洛蒂.勃朗特 Charlotte Bronte
CHAPTER XXV Page 1
The month of courtship had wasted: its very last hours were beingnumbered. There was no putting off the day that advanced -- thebridal day; and all preparations for its arrival were complete. I,at least, had nothing more to do: there were my trunks, packed,locked, corded, ranged in a row along the wall of my little chamber;to-morrow, at this time, they would be far on their road to London:and so should I (D. V. ), -- or rather, not I, but one Jane Rochester,a person whom as yet I knew not. The cards of address alone remainedto nail on: they lay, four little squares, in the drawer. Mr.Rochester had himself written the direction, "Mrs. Rochester,-- Hotel, London, " on each: I could not persuade myself to affixthem, or to have them affixed. Mrs. Rochester! She did not exist:she would not be born till to-morrow, some time after eight o'clocka. m. ; and I would wait to be assured she had come into the worldalive before I assigned to her all that property. It was enoughthat in yonder closet, opposite my dressing-table, garments said tobe hers had already displaced my black stuff Lowood frock and strawbonnet: for not to me appertained that suit of wedding raiment;the pearl-coloured robe, the vapoury veil pendent from the usurpedportmanteau. I shut the closet to conceal the strange, wraith-likeapparel it contained; which, at this evening hour -- nine o'clock-- gave out certainly a most ghostly shimmer through the shadowof my apartment. "I will leave you by yourself, white dream, " Isaid. "I am feverish: I hear the wind blowing: I will go out ofdoors and feel it. "
It was not only the hurry of preparation that made me feverish;not only the anticipation of the great change -- the new life whichwas to commence to-morrow: both these circumstances had theirshare, doubtless, in producing that restless, excited mood whichhurried me forth at this late hour into the darkening grounds: buta third cause influenced my mind more than they.
I had at heart a strange and anxious thought. Something hadhappened which I could not comprehend; no one knew of or had seenthe event but myself: it had taken place the preceding night. Mr.Rochester that night was absent from home; nor was he yet returned:business had called him to a small estate of two or three farms hepossessed thirty miles off -- business it was requisite he shouldsettle in person, previous to his meditated departure from England.I waited now his return; eager to disburthen my mind, and to seekof him the solution of the enigma that perplexed me. Stay tillhe comes, reader; and, when I disclose my secret to him, you shallshare the confidence.
I sought the orchard, driven to its shelter by the wind, which allday had blown strong and full from the south, without, however,bringing a speck of rain. Instead of subsiding as night drew on,it seemed to augment its rush and deepen its roar: the trees blewsteadfastly one way, never writhing round, and scarcely tossingback their boughs once in an hour; so continuous was the strainbending their branchy heads northward -- the clouds drifted frompole to pole, fast following, mass on mass: no glimpse of bluesky had been visible that July day.
It was not without a certain wild pleasure I ran before the wind,delivering my trouble of mind to the measureless air-torrent thunderingthrough space. Descending the laurel walk, I faced the wreck ofthe chestnut-tree; it stood up black and riven: the trunk, splitdown the centre, gasped ghastly. The cloven halves were not brokenfrom each other, for the firm base and strong roots kept themunsundered below; though community of vitality was destroyed --the sap could flow no more: their great boughs on each side weredead, and next winter's tempests would be sure to fell one or bothto earth: as yet, however, they might be said to form one tree --a ruin, but an entire ruin.
"You did right to hold fast to each other, " I said: as ifthe monster-splinters were living things, and could hear me. "Ithink, scathed as you look, and charred and scorched, there mustbe a little sense of life in you yet, rising out of that adhesionat the faithful, honest roots: you will never have green leavesmore -- never more see birds making nests and singing idyls inyour boughs; the time of pleasure and love is over with you: butyou are not desolate: each of you has a comrade to sympathisewith him in his decay. " As I looked up at them, the moon appearedmomentarily in that part of the sky which filled their fissure;her disk was blood- red and half overcast; she seemed to throw onme one bewildered, dreary glance, and buried herself again instantlyin the deep drift of cloud. The wind fell, for a second, roundThornfield; but far away over wood and water, poured a wild,melancholy wail: it was sad to listen to, and I ran off again.
Here and there I strayed through the orchard, gathered up the appleswith which the grass round the tree roots was thickly strewn; thenI employed myself in dividing the ripe from the unripe; I carriedthem into the house and put them away in the store-room. ThenI repaired to the library to ascertain whether the fire was lit,for, though summer, I knew on such a gloomy evening Mr. Rochesterwould like to see a cheerful hearth when he came in: yes, the firehad been kindled some time, and burnt well. I placed his arm-chairby the chimney-corner: I wheeled the table near it: I let downthe curtain, and had the candles brought in ready for lighting.More restless than ever, when I had completed these arrangementsI could not sit still, nor even remain in the house: a littletime-piece in the room and the old clock in the hall simultaneouslystruck ten.
"How late it grows!" I said. "I will run down to the gates: itis moonlight at intervals; I can see a good way on the road. He maybe coming now, and to meet him will save some minutes of suspense. "
The wind roared high in the great trees which embowered the gates;but the road as far as I could see, to the right hand and theleft, was all still and solitary: save for the shadows of cloudscrossing it at intervals as the moon looked out, it was but a longpale line, unvaried by one moving speck.
A puerile tear dimmed my eye while I looked -- a tear of disappointmentand impatience; ashamed of it, I wiped it away. I lingered; themoon shut herself wholly within her chamber, and drew close hercurtain of dense cloud: the night grew dark; rain came drivingfast on the gale.
"I wish he would come! I wish he would come!" I exclaimed, seizedwith hypochondriac foreboding. I had expected his arrival beforetea; now it was dark: what could keep him? Had an accident happened?The event of last night again recurred to me. I interpreted itas a warning of disaster. I feared my hopes were too bright to berealised; and I had enjoyed so much bliss lately that I imaginedmy fortune had passed its meridian, and must now decline.
"Well, I cannot return to the house, " I thought; "I cannot sit bythe fireside, while he is abroad in inclement weather: better tiremy limbs than strain my heart; I will go forward and meet him. "
I set out; I walked fast, but not far: ere I had measured a quarterof a mile, I heard the tramp of hoofs; a horseman came on, fullgallop; a dog ran by his side. Away with evil presentiment! Itwas he: here he was, mounted on Mesrour, followed by Pilot. Hesaw me; for the moon had opened a blue field in the sky, and rodein it watery bright: he took his hat off, and waved it round hishead. I now ran to meet him.
"There!" he exclaimed, as he stretched out his hand and bent fromthe saddle: "You can't do without me, that is evident. Step onmy boot-toe; give me both hands: mount!"
I obeyed: joy made me agile: I sprang up before him. A heartykissing I got for a welcome, and some boastful triumph, which Iswallowed as well as I could. He checked himself in his exultationto demand, "But is there anything the matter, Janet, that you cometo meet me at such an hour? Is there anything wrong?"
"No, but I thought you would never come. I could not bear to waitin the house for you, especially with this rain and wind. "
"Rain and wind, indeed! Yes, you are dripping like a mermaid; pullmy cloak round you: but I think you are feverish, Jane: both yourcheek and hand are burning hot. I ask again, is there anythingthe matter?
"Nothing now; I am neither afraid nor unhappy. "
"Then you have been both?"
"Rather: but I'll tell you all about it by-and-bye, sir; and Idaresay you will only laugh at me for my pains. "
"I'll laugh at you heartily when to-morrow is past; till then Idare not: my prize is not certain. This is you, who have been asslippery as an eel this last month, and as thorny as a briar-rose?I could not lay a finger anywhere but I was pricked; and now I seemto have gathered up a stray lamb in my arms. You wandered out ofthe fold to seek your shepherd, did you, Jane?"
"I wanted you: but don't boast. Here we are at Thornfield: nowlet me get down. "
He landed me on the pavement. As John took his horse, and he followedme into the hall, he told me to make haste and put something dryon, and then return to him in the library; and he stopped me, asI made for the staircase, to extort a promise that I would not belong: nor was I long; in five minutes I rejoined him. I foundhim at supper.
"Take a seat and bear me company, Jane: please God, it is the lastmeal but one you will eat at Thornfield Hall for a long time. "
I sat down near him, but told him I could not eat. "Is it becauseyou have the prospect of a journey before you, Jane? Is it thethoughts of going to London that takes away your appetite?"
"I cannot see my prospects clearly to-night, sir; and I hardly knowwhat thoughts I have in my head. Everything in life seems unreal. "
"Except me: I am substantial enough -- touch me. "
"You, sir, are the most phantom-like of all: you are a mere dream. "
He held out his hand, laughing. "Is that a dream?" said he, placingit close to my eyes. He had a rounded, muscular, and vigoroushand, as well as a long, strong arm.
"Yes; though I touch it, it is a dream, " said I, as I put it downfrom before my face. "Sir, have you finished supper?"
"Yes, Jane. "
I rang the bell and ordered away the tray. When we were againalone, I stirred the fire, and then took a low seat at my master'sknee.
"It is near midnight, " I said.
"Yes: but remember, Jane, you promised to wake with me the nightbefore my wedding. "
"I did; and I will keep my promise, for an hour or two at least:I have no wish to go to bed. "
"Are all your arrangements complete?"
"All, sir. "
"And on my part likewise, " he returned, "I have settled everything;and we shall leave Thornfield to-morrow, within half-an-hour afterour return from church. "
"Very well, sir. "
"With what an extraordinary smile you uttered that word -- 'verywell, ' Jane! What a bright spot of colour you have on each cheek!and how strangely your eyes glitter! Are you well?"
"I believe I am. "
"Believe! What is the matter? Tell me what you feel. "
"I could not, sir: no words could tell you what I feel. I wishthis present hour would never end: who knows with what fate thenext may come charged?"
"This is hypochondria, Jane. You have been over-excited, orover-fatigued. "
"Do you, sir, feel calm and happy?"
"Calm? -- no: but happy -- to the heart's core. "
I looked up at him to read the signs of bliss in his face: it wasardent and flushed.
"Give me your confidence, Jane, " he said: "relieve your mind ofany weight that oppresses it, by imparting it to me. What do youfear?- -that I shall not prove a good husband?"
"It is the idea farthest from my thoughts. "
"Are you apprehensive of the new sphere you are about to enter? --of the new life into which you are passing?"
"No. "
"You puzzle me, Jane: your look and tone of sorrowful audacityperplex and pain me. I want an explanation. "
"Then, sir, listen. You were from home last night?"
"I was: I know that; and you hinted a while ago at something whichhad happened in my absence:- nothing, probably, of consequence;but, in short, it has disturbed you. Let me hear it. Mrs. Fairfaxhas said something, perhaps? or you have overheard the servantstalk? -- your sensitive self-respect has been wounded?"
and half overcast; she seemed to throw ?
"No, sir. " It struck twelve -- I waited till the time-piece hadconcluded its silver chime, and the clock its hoarse, vibratingstroke, and then I proceeded.
"All day yesterday I was very busy, and very happy in my ceaselessbustle; for I am not, as you seem to think, troubled by any hauntingfears about the new sphere, et cetera: I think it a gloriousthing to have the hope of living with you, because I love you. No,sir, don't caress me now -- let me talk undisturbed. Yesterday Itrusted well in Providence, and believed that events were workingtogether for your good and mine: it was a fine day, if you recollect-- the calmness of the air and sky forbade apprehensions respectingyour safety or comfort on your journey. I walked a little whileon the pavement after tea, thinking of you; and I beheld you inimagination so near me, I scarcely missed your actual presence.I thought of the life that lay before me -- YOUR life, sir -- anexistence more expansive and stirring than my own: as much moreso as the depths of the sea to which the brook runs are than theshallows of its own strait channel. I wondered why moralists callthis world a dreary wilderness: for me it blossomed like a rose.Just at sunset, the air turned cold and the sky cloudy: I went in,Sophie called me upstairs to look at my wedding-dress, which theyhad just brought; and under it in the box I found your present --the veil which, in your princely extravagance, you sent for fromLondon: resolved, I suppose, since I would not have jewels, tocheat me into accepting something as costly. I smiled as I unfoldedit, and devised how I would tease you about your aristocratic tastes,and your efforts to masque your plebeian bride in the attributesof a peeress. I though how I would carry down to you the squareof unembroidered blond I had myself prepared as a covering for mylow-born head, and ask if that was not good enough for a woman whocould bring her husband neither fortune, beauty, nor connections.I saw plainly how you would look; and heard your impetuous republicananswers, and your haughty disavowal of any necessity on your partto augment your wealth, or elevate your standing, by marrying eithera purse or a coronet. "
"How well you read me, you witch!" interposed Mr. Rochester: "butwhat did you find in the veil besides its embroidery? Did you findpoison, or a dagger, that you look so mournful now?"
"No, no, sir; besides the delicacy and richness of the fabric,I found nothing save Fairfax Rochester's pride; and that did notscare me, because I am used to the sight of the demon. But, sir,as it grew dark, the wind rose: it blew yesterday evening, not asit blows now -- wild and high -- but 'with a sullen, moaning sound'far more eerie. I wished you were at home. I came into this room,and the sight of the empty chair and fireless hearth chilled me.For some time after I went to bed, I could not sleep -- a sense ofanxious excitement distressed me. The gale still rising, seemedto my ear to muffle a mournful under-sound; whether in the houseor abroad I could not at first tell, but it recurred, doubtfulyet doleful at every lull; at last I made out it must be some doghowling at a distance. I was glad when it ceased. On sleeping, Icontinued in dreams the idea of a dark and gusty night. I continuedalso the wish to be with you, and experienced a strange, regretfulconsciousness of some barrier dividing us. During all my firstsleep, I was following the windings of an unknown road; totalobscurity environed me; rain pelted me; I was burdened with thecharge of a little child: a very small creature, too young andfeeble to walk, and which shivered in my cold arms, and wailedpiteously in my ear. I thought, sir, that you were on the roada long way before me; and I strained every nerve to overtake you,and made effort on effort to utter your name and entreat you tostop -- but my movements were fettered, and my voice still diedaway inarticulate; while you, I felt, withdrew farther and fartherevery moment. "
"And these dreams weigh on your spirits now, Jane, when I am closeto you? Little nervous subject! Forget visionary woe, and thinkonly of real happiness! You say you love me, Janet: yes -- I willnot forget that; and you cannot deny it. THOSE words did not dieinarticulate on your lips. I heard them clear and soft: a thoughttoo solemn perhaps, but sweet as music -- 'I think it is a gloriousthing to have the hope of living with you, Edward, because I loveyou. ' Do you love me, Jane? -- repeat it. "
"I do, sir -- I do, with my whole heart. "
"Well, " he said, after some minutes' silence, "it is strange; butthat sentence has penetrated my breast painfully. Why? I thinkbecause you said it with such an earnest, religious energy, andbecause your upward gaze at me now is the very sublime of faith,truth, and devotion: it is too much as if some spirit were nearme. Look wicked, Jane: as you know well how to look: coin oneof your wild, shy, provoking smiles; tell me you hate me -- teaseme, vex me; do anything but move me: I would rather be incensedthan saddened. "
"I will tease you and vex you to your heart's content, when I havefinished my tale: but hear me to the end. "
"I thought, Jane, you had told me all. I thought I had found thesource of your melancholy in a dream. "
I shook my head. "What! is there more? But I will not believeit to be anything important. I warn you of incredulity beforehand.Go on. "
The disquietude of his air, the somewhat apprehensive impatienceof his manner, surprised me: but I proceeded.
"I dreamt another dream, sir: that Thornfield Hall was a drearyruin, the retreat of bats and owls. I thought that of all thestately front nothing remained but a shell-like wall, very high andvery fragile-looking. I wandered, on a moonlight night, throughthe grass-grown enclosure within: here I stumbled over a marblehearth, and there over a fallen fragment of cornice. Wrapped upin a shawl, I still carried the unknown little child: I might notlay it down anywhere, however tired were my arms -- however much itsweight impeded my progress, I must retain it. I heard the gallopof a horse at a distance on the road; I was sure it was you; andyou were departing for many years and for a distant country. Iclimbed the thin wall with frantic perilous haste, eager to catchone glimpse of you from the top: the stones rolled from under myfeet, the ivy branches I grasped gave way, the child clung roundmy neck in terror, and almost strangled me; at last I gained thesummit. I saw you like a speck on a white track, lessening everymoment. The blast blew so strong I could not stand. I sat downon the narrow ledge; I hushed the scared infant in my lap: youturned an angle of the road: I bent forward to take a last look;the wall crumbled; I was shaken; the child rolled from my knee, Ilost my balance, fell, and woke. "