第127章

第127章sometimeintheafternooniraisedmyhead，andlookingroundandseeingthewesternsungildingthesignofitsdeclineonthewall，iasked，“whatamitodo？”buttheanswermymindgave—“leavethornfieldatonce”—wassoprompt，sodread，thatistoppedmyears.isaidicouldnotbearsuchwordsnow.“thatiamnotedwardrochester’sbrideistheleastpartofmywoe，”ialleged：“thatihavewakenedoutofmostgloriousdreams，andfoundthemallvoidandvain，isahorroricouldbearandmaster；butthatimustleavehimdecidedly，instantly，entirely，isintolerable.icannotdoit.”

but，then，avoicewithinmeaverredthaticoulddoitandforetoldthatishoulddoit.iwrestledwithmyownresolution：iwantedtobeweakthatimightavoidtheawfulpassageoffurthersufferingisawlaidoutforme；andconscience，turnedtyrant，heldpassionbythethroat，toldhertauntingly，shehadyetbutdippedherdaintyfootintheslough，andsworethatwiththatarmofironhewouldthrustherdowntounsoundeddepthsofagony.

“letmebetornaway，”thenicried.“letanotherhelpme！”

“no；youshalltearyourselfaway，noneshallhelpyou：youshallyourselfpluckoutyourrighteye；yourselfcutoffyourrighthand：yourheartshallbethevictim，andyouthepriesttotransfixit.”

iroseupsuddenly，terror-struckatthesolitudewhichsoruthlessajudgehaunted，—atthesilencewhichsoawfulavoicefilled.myheadswamasistooderect.iperceivedthatiwassickeningfromexcitementandinanition；neithermeatnordrinkhadpassedmylipsthatday，forihadtakennobreakfast.and，withastrangepang，inowreflectedthat，longasihadbeenshutuphere，nomessagehadbeensenttoaskhowiwas，ortoinvitemetocomedown：notevenlittleadèlehadtappedatthedoor；notevenmrs.fairfaxhadsoughtme.“friendsalwaysforgetthosewhomfortuneforsakes，”imurmured，asiundrewtheboltandpassedout.istumbledoveranobstacle：myheadwasstilldizzy，mysightwasdim，andmylimbswerefeeble.icouldnotsoonrecovermyself.ifell，butnotontotheground：anoutstretchedarmcaughtme.ilookedup—iwassupportedbymr.rochester，whosatinachairacrossmychamberthreshold.

“youcomeoutatlast，”hesaid.“well，ihavebeenwaitingforyoulong，andlistening：yetnotonemovementhaveiheard，noronesob：fiveminutesmoreofthatdeath-likehush，andishouldhaveforcedthelocklikeaburglar.soyoushunme？—youshutyourselfupandgrievealone！iwouldratheryouhadcomeandupbraidedmewithvehemence.youarepassionate.iexpectedasceneofsomekind.iwaspreparedforthehotrainoftears；onlyiwantedthemtobeshedonmybreast：nowasenselessfloorhasreceivedthem，oryourdrenchedhandkerchief.butierr：youhavenotweptatall！iseeawhitecheekandafadedeye，butnotraceoftears.isuppose，then，yourhearthasbeenweepingblood？”

“well，jane！notawordofreproach？nothingbitter—nothingpoignant？nothingtocutafeelingorstingapassion？yousitquietlywhereihaveplacedyou，andregardmewithaweary，passivelook.”

“jane，inevermeanttowoundyouthus.ifthemanwhohadbutonelittleewelambthatwasdeartohimasadaughter，thatateofhisbreadanddrankofhiscup，andlayinhisbosom，hadbysomemistakeslaughtereditattheshambles，hewouldnothaveruedhisbloodyblundermorethaninowruemine.willyoueverforgiveme？”

reader，iforgavehimatthemomentandonthespot.therewassuchdeepremorseinhiseye，suchtruepityinhistone，suchmanlyenergyinhismanner；andbesides，therewassuchunchangedloveinhiswholelookandmien—iforgavehimall：yetnotinwords，notoutwardly；onlyatmyheart’score.

“youknowiamascoundrel，jane？”erelongheinquiredwistfully—wondering，isuppose，atmycontinuedsilenceandtameness，theresultratherofweaknessthanofwill.

“yes，sir.”

“thentellmesoroundlyandsharply—don’tspareme.”

“icannot：iamtiredandsick.iwantsomewater.”heheavedasortofshudderingsigh，andtakingmeinhisarms，carriedmedownstairs.atfirstididnotknowtowhatroomhehadborneme；allwascloudytomyglazedsight：presentlyifelttherevivingwarmthofafire；for，summerasitwas，ihadbecomeicycoldinmychamber.heputwinetomylips；itasteditandrevived；theniatesomethingheofferedme，andwassoonmyself.iwasinthelibrary—sittinginhischair—hewasquitenear.“ificouldgooutoflifenow，withouttoosharpapang，itwouldbewellforme，”ithought；“thenishouldnothavetomaketheeffortofcrackingmyheart-stringsinrendingthemfromamongmr.rochester’s.imustleavehim，itappears.idonotwanttoleavehim—icannotleavehim.”

“howareyounow，jane？”

“muchbetter，sir；ishallbewellsoon.”

“tastethewineagain，jane.”

iobeyedhim；thenheputtheglassonthetable，stoodbeforeme，andlookedatmeattentively.suddenlyheturnedaway，withaninarticulateexclamation，fullofpassionateemotionofsomekind；hewalkedfastthroughtheroomandcameback；hestoopedtowardsmeasiftokissme；butirememberedcaresseswerenowforbidden.iturnedmyfaceawayandputhisaside.

“what！—howisthis？”heexclaimedhastily.“oh，iknow！youwon’tkissthehusbandofberthamason？youconsidermyarmsfilledandmyembracesappropriated？”

“atanyrate，thereisneitherroomnorclaimforme，sir.”

“why，jane？iwillspareyouthetroubleofmuchtalking；iwillanswerforyou—becauseihaveawifealready，youwouldreply.—iguessrightly？”

“yes.”