简.爱 英文版 Jane Eyre
夏洛蒂.勃朗特 Charlotte Bronte
CHAPTER XXXIV Page 1
It was near Christmas by the time all was settled: the season ofgeneral holiday approached. I now closed Morton school, taking carethat the parting should not be barren on my side. Good fortuneopens the hand as well as the heart wonderfully; and to givesomewhat when we have largely received, is but to afford a ventto the unusual ebullition of the sensations. I had long felt withpleasure that many of my rustic scholars liked me, and when weparted, that consciousness was confirmed: they manifested theiraffection plainly and strongly. Deep was my gratification to findI had really a place in their unsophisticated hearts: I promisedthem that never a week should pass in future that I did not visitthem, and give them an hour's teaching in their school.
Mr. Rivers came up as, having seen the classes, now numbering sixtygirls, file out before me, and locked the door, I stood with thekey in my hand, exchanging a few words of special farewell with somehalf-dozen of my best scholars: as decent, respectable, modest,and well-informed young women as could be found in the ranks ofthe British peasantry. And that is saying a great deal; for afterall, the British peasantry are the best taught, best mannered, mostself-respecting of any in Europe: since those days I have seenpaysannes and Bauerinnen; and the best of them seemed to me ignorant,coarse, and besotted, compared with my Morton girls.
"Do you consider you have got your reward for a season ofexertion?" asked Mr. Rivers, when they were gone. "Does not theconsciousness of having done some real good in your day and generationgive pleasure?"
"Doubtless. "
"And you have only toiled a few months! Would not a life devotedto the task of regenerating your race be well spent?"
"Yes, " I said; "but I could not go on for ever so: I want to enjoymy own faculties as well as to cultivate those of other people.I must enjoy them now; don't recall either my mind or body to theschool; I am out of it and disposed for full holiday. "
He looked grave. "What now? What sudden eagerness is this youevince? What are you going to do?"
"To be active: as active as I can. And first I must beg you toset Hannah at liberty, and get somebody else to wait on you. "
"Do you want her?"
"Yes, to go with me to Moor House. Diana and Mary will be at homein a week, and I want to have everything in order against theirarrival. "
"Tell her to be ready by to-morrow then; and here is the schoolroomkey: I will give you the key of my cottage in the morning. "
He took it. "You give it up very gleefully, " said he; "I don'tquite understand your light-heartedness, because I cannot tell whatemployment you propose to yourself as a substitute for the one youare relinquishing. What aim, what purpose, what ambition in lifehave you now?"
"My first aim will be to CLEAN DOWN (do you comprehend the fullforce of the expression?) -- to CLEAN DOWN Moor House from chamber tocellar; my next to rub it up with bees-wax, oil, and an indefinitenumber of cloths, till it glitters again; my third, to arrange everychair, table, bed, carpet, with mathematical precision; afterwardsI shall go near to ruin you in coals and peat to keep up good firesin every room; and lastly, the two days preceding that on which yoursisters are expected will be devoted by Hannah and me to such abeating of eggs, sorting of currants, grating of spices, compoundingof Christmas cakes, chopping up of materials for mince-pies,and solemnising of other culinary rites, as words can convey butan inadequate notion of to the uninitiated like you. My purpose,in short, is to have all things in an absolutely perfect state ofreadiness for Diana and Mary before next Thursday; and my ambitionis to give them a beau-ideal of a welcome when they come. "
St. John smiled slightly: still he was dissatisfied.
against theirarrival. " was worth. How many minutes,for instance, had I devoted to studying!
"It is all very well for the present, " said he; "but seriously, Itrust that when the first flush of vivacity is over, you will looka little higher than domestic endearments and household joys. "
"The best things the world has!" I interrupted.
"No, Jane, no: this world is not the scene of fruition; do notattempt to make it so: nor of rest; do not turn slothful. "
"I mean, on the contrary, to be busy. "
"Jane, I excuse you for the present: two months' grace I allowyou for the full enjoyment of your new position, and for pleasingyourself with this late-found charm of relationship; but THEN, I hopeyou will begin to look beyond Moor House and Morton, and sisterlysociety, and the selfish calm and sensual comfort of civilisedaffluence. I hope your energies will then once more trouble youwith their strength. "
I looked at him with surprise. "St. John, " I said, "I think youare almost wicked to talk so. I am disposed to be as content asa queen, and you try to stir me up to restlessness! To what end?"
"To the end of turning to profit the talents which God has committedto your keeping; and of which He will surely one day demand a strictaccount. Jane, I shall watch you closely and anxiously -- I warnyou of that. And try to restrain the disproportionate fervour withwhich you throw yourself into commonplace home pleasures. Don'tcling so tenaciously to ties of the flesh; save your constancyand ardour for an adequate cause; forbear to waste them on tritetransient objects. Do you hear, Jane?"
"Yes; just as if you were speaking Greek. I feel I have adequatecause to be happy, and I WILL be happy. Goodbye!"
Happy at Moor House I was, and hard I worked; and so did Hannah:she was charmed to see how jovial I could be amidst the bustleof a house turned topsy-turvy -- how I could brush, and dust, andclean, and cook. And really, after a day or two of confusion worseconfounded, it was delightful by degrees to invoke order from thechaos ourselves had made. I had previously taken a journey to S-to purchase some new furniture: my cousins having given me CARTEBLANCHE to effect what alterations I pleased, and a sum having beenset aside for that purpose. The ordinary sitting-room and bedroomsI left much as they were: for I knew Diana and Mary would derivemore pleasure from seeing again the old homely tables, and chairs,and beds, than from the spectacle of the smartest innovations. Stillsome novelty was necessary, to give to their return the piquancywith which I wished it to be invested. Dark handsome new carpetsand curtains, an arrangement of some carefully selected antiqueornaments in porcelain and bronze, new coverings, and mirrors,and dressing-cases, for the toilet tables, answered the end: theylooked fresh without being glaring. A spare parlour and bedroomI refurnished entirely, with old mahogany and crimson upholstery:I laid canvas on the passage, and carpets on the stairs. When allwas finished, I thought Moor House as complete a model of brightmodest snugness within, as it was, at this season, a specimen ofwintry waste and desert dreariness without.
The eventful Thursday at length came. They were expected aboutdark, and ere dusk fires were lit upstairs and below; the kitchenwas in perfect trim; Hannah and I were dressed, and all was inreadiness.
St. John arrived first. I had entreated him to keep quite clearof the house till everything was arranged: and, indeed, the bareidea of the commotion, at once sordid and trivial, going on withinits walls sufficed to scare him to estrangement. He found mein the kitchen, watching the progress of certain cakes for tea,then baking. Approaching the hearth, he asked, "If I was at lastsatisfied with housemaid's work?" I answered by inviting him toaccompany me on a general inspection of the result of my labours.With some difficulty, I got him to make the tour of the house.He just looked in at the doors I opened; and when he had wanderedupstairs and downstairs, he said I must have gone through a greatdeal of fatigue and trouble to have effected such considerable changesin so short a time: but not a syllable did he utter indicatingpleasure in the improved aspect of his abode.
This silence damped me. I thought perhaps the alterations haddisturbed some old associations he valued. I inquired whether thiswas the case: no doubt in a somewhat crest-fallen tone.
"Not at all; he had, on the contrary, remarked that I had scrupulouslyrespected every association: he feared, indeed, I must have bestowedmore thought on the matter than it was worth. How many minutes,for instance, had I devoted to studying the arrangement of thisvery room? -- By-the-bye, could I tell him where such a book was?"
I showed him the volume on the shelf: he took it down, andwithdrawing to his accustomed window recess, he began to read it.
Now, I did not like this, reader. St. John was a good man; but Ibegan to feel he had spoken truth of himself when he said he was hardand cold. The humanities and amenities of life had no attractionfor him -- its peaceful enjoyments no charm. Literally, he livedonly to aspire -- after what was good and great, certainly; butstill he would never rest, nor approve of others resting round him.As I looked at his lofty forehead, still and pale as a white stone-- at his fine lineaments fixed in study -- I comprehended all atonce that he would hardly make a good husband: that it would bea trying thing to be his wife. I understood, as by inspiration,the nature of his love for Miss Oliver; I agreed with him that itwas but a love of the senses. I comprehended how he should despisehimself for the feverish influence it exercised over him; how heshould wish to stifle and destroy it; how he should mistrust itsever conducting permanently to his happiness or hers. I saw hewas of the material from which nature hews her heroes -- Christianand Pagan -- her lawgivers, her statesmen, her conquerors: asteadfast bulwark for great interests to rest upon; but, at thefireside, too often a cold cumbrous column, gloomy and out of place.
"This parlour is not his sphere, " I reflected: "the Himalayanridge or Caffre bush, even the plague-cursed Guinea Coast swampwould suit him better. Well may he eschew the calm of domesticlife; it is not his element: there his faculties stagnate -- theycannot develop or appear to advantage. It is in scenes of strifeand danger -- where courage is proved, and energy exercised, andfortitude tasked -- that he will speak and move, the leader andsuperior. A merry child would have the advantage of him on thishearth. He is right to choose a missionary's career -- I see itnow. "
Mary's soft cheek, then with Diana'sflowing curls. They laughed -- kissed me -- then Hannah: .
"They are coming! they are coming!" cried Hannah, throwing openthe parlour door. At the same moment old Carlo barked joyfully.Out I ran. It was now dark; but a rumbling of wheels was audible.Hannah soon had a lantern lit. The vehicle had stopped at thewicket; the driver opened the door: first one well-known form,then another, stepped out. In a minute I had my face under theirbonnets, in contact first with Mary's soft cheek, then with Diana'sflowing curls. They laughed -- kissed me -- then Hannah: pattedCarlo, who was half wild with delight; asked eagerly if all waswell; and being assured in the affirmative, hastened into the house.
They were stiff with their long and jolting drive from Whitcross,and chilled with the frosty night air; but their pleasant countenancesexpanded to the cheerful firelight. While the driver and Hannahbrought in the boxes, they demanded St. John. At this moment headvanced from the parlour. They both threw their arms round hisneck at once. He gave each one quiet kiss, said in a low tonea few words of welcome, stood a while to be talked to, and then,intimating that he supposed they would soon rejoin him in theparlour, withdrew there as to a place of refuge.
I had lit their candles to go upstairs, but Diana had first to givehospitable orders respecting the driver; this done, both followedme. They were delighted with the renovation and decorationsof their rooms; with the new drapery, and fresh carpets, and richtinted china vases: they expressed their gratification ungrudgingly.I had the pleasure of feeling that my arrangements met their wishesexactly, and that what I had done added a vivid charm to theirjoyous return home.
Sweet was that evening. My cousins, full of exhilaration, were soeloquent in narrative and comment, that their fluency covered St.John's taciturnity: he was sincerely glad to see his sisters; butin their glow of fervour and flow of joy he could not sympathise.The event of the day -- that is, the return of Diana and Mary --pleased him; but the accompaniments of that event, the glad tumult,the garrulous glee of reception irked him: I saw he wished the calmermorrow was come. In the very meridian of the night's enjoyment,about an hour after tea, a rap was heard at the door. Hannah enteredwith the intimation that "a poor lad was come, at that unlikelytime, to fetch Mr. Rivers to see his mother, who was drawing away. "
"Where does she live, Hannah?"
"Clear up at Whitcross Brow, almost four miles off, and moor andmoss all the way. "
"Tell him I will go. "
"I'm sure, sir, you had better not. It's the worst road to travelafter dark that can be: there's no track at all over the bog. Andthen it is such a bitter night -- the keenest wind you ever felt.You had better send word, sir, that you will be there in themorning. "
But he was already in the passage, putting on his cloak; and withoutone objection, one murmur, he departed. It was then nine o'clock:he did not return till midnight. Starved and tired enough he was:but he looked happier than when he set out. He had performedan act of duty; made an exertion; felt his own strength to do anddeny, and was on better terms with himself.
I am afraid the whole of the ensuing week tried his patience. Itwas Christmas week: we took to no settled employment, but spentit in a sort of merry domestic dissipation. The air of the moors,the freedom of home, the dawn of prosperity, acted on Diana andMary's spirits like some life-giving elixir: they were gay frommorning till noon, and from noon till night. They could alwaystalk; and their discourse, witty, pithy, original, had such charmsfor me, that I preferred listening to, and sharing in it, to doinganything else. St. John did not rebuke our vivacity; but he escapedfrom it: he was seldom in the house; his parish was large, thepopulation scattered, and he found daily business in visiting thesick and poor in its different districts.
One morning at breakfast, Diana, after looking a little pensivefor some minutes, asked him, "If his plans were yet unchanged. "
"Unchanged and unchangeable, " was the reply. And he proceededto inform us that his departure from England was now definitivelyfixed for the ensuing year.
"And Rosamond Oliver?" suggested Mary, the words seeming to escapeher lips involuntarily: for no sooner had she uttered them, thanshe made a gesture as if wishing to recall them. St. John had abook in his hand -- it was his unsocial custom to read at meals --he closed it, and looked up,
"Rosamond Oliver, " said he, "is about to be married to Mr. Granby,one of the best connected and most estimable residents in S-,grandson and heir to Sir Frederic Granby: I had the intelligencefrom her father yesterday. "
His sisters looked at each other and at me; we all three looked athim: he was serene as glass.
"The match must have been got up hastily, " said Diana: "they cannothave known each other long. "
"But two months: they met in October at the county ball at S-. Butwhere there are no obstacles to a union, as in the present case,where the connection is in every point desirable, delays areunnecessary: they will be married as soon as S- Place, which SirFrederic gives up to them, can he refitted for their reception. "
The first time I found St. John alone after this communication, Ifelt tempted to inquire if the event distressed him: but he seemedso little to need sympathy, that, so far from venturing to offerhim more, I experienced some shame at the recollection of what Ihad already hazarded. Besides, I was out of practice in talkingto him: his reserve was again frozen over, and my frankness wascongealed beneath it. He had not kept his promise of treating melike his sisters; he continually made little chilling differencesbetween us, which did not at all tend to the development ofcordiality: in short, now that I was acknowledged his kinswoman,and lived under the same roof with him, I felt the distance betweenus to be far greater than when he had known me only as the villageschoolmistress. When I remembered how far I had once been admittedto his confidence, I could hardly comprehend his present frigidity.
Such being the case, I felt not a little surprised when he raisedhis head suddenly from the desk over which he was stooping, and said -
"You see, Jane, the battle is fought and the victory won. "
Startled at being thus addressed, I did not immediatelyreply: after a moment's hesitation I answered -
"But are you sure you are not in the position of those conquerorswhose triumphs have cost them too dear? Would not such anotherruin you?"
"I think not; and if I were, it does not much signify; I shallnever be called upon to contend for such another. The event of theconflict is decisive: my way is now clear; I thank God for it!"So saying, he returned to his papers and his silence.
As our mutual happiness (i. e. , Diana's, Mary's, and mine) settledinto a quieter character, and we resumed our usual habits and regularstudies, St. John stayed more at home: he sat with us in the sameroom, sometimes for hours together. While Mary drew, Diana pursueda course of encyclopaedic reading she had (to my awe and amazement)undertaken, and I fagged away at German, he pondered a mystic loreof his own: that of some Eastern tongue, the acquisition of whichhe thought necessary to his plans.
Thus engaged, he appeared, sitting in his own recess, quiet andabsorbed enough; but that blue eye of his had a habit of leavingthe outlandish-looking grammar, and wandering over, and sometimesfixing upon us, his fellow-students, with a curious intensity ofobservation: if caught, it would be instantly withdrawn; yet everand anon, it returned searchingly to our table. I wondered whatit meant: I wondered, too, at the punctual satisfaction he neverfailed to exhibit on an occasion that seemed to me of small moment,namely, my weekly visit to Morton school; and still more was Ipuzzled when, if the day was unfavourable, if there was snow, orrain, or high wind, and his sisters urged me not to go, he wouldinvariably make light of their solicitude, and encourage me toaccomplish the task without regard to the elements.
"Jane is not such a weakling as you would make her, " he would say:"she can bear a mountain blast, or a shower, or a few flakes ofsnow, as well as any of us. Her constitution is both sound andelastic; -- better calculated to endure variations of climate thanmany more robust. "
And when I returned, sometimes a good deal tired, and not a littleweather-beaten, I never dared complain, because I saw that to murmurwould be to vex him: on all occasions fortitude pleased him; thereverse was a special annoyance.