牛津書蟲第6級6-01.Jane Eyre Chapter 9

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Chapter9

Buttheprivations,orratherthehardships,ofLowoodlessened.Springdrewon:shewasindeedalreadycome;thefrostsofwinterhadceased;itssnowsweremelted,itscuttingwindsameliorated.Mywretchedfeet,flayedandswollentolamenessbythesharpairofJanuary,begantohealandsubsideunderthegentlerbreathingsofApril;thenightsandmorningsnolongerbytheirCanadiantemperaturefrozetheverybloodinourveins;wecouldnowenduretheplay-hourpassedinthegarden:sometimesonasunnydayitbeganeventobepleasantandgenial,andagreennessgrewoverthosebrownbeds,which,fresheningdaily,suggestedthethoughtthatHopetraversedthematnight,andlefteachmorningbrightertracesofhersteps.Flowerspeepedoutamongsttheleaves;snow-drops,crocuses,purpleauriculas,andgolden-eyedpansies.OnThursdayafternoons(half-holidays)wenowtookwalks,andfoundstillsweeterflowersopeningbythewayside,underthehedges.

Idiscovered,too,thatagreatpleasure,anenjoymentwhichthehorizononlybounded,layalloutsidethehighandspike-guardedwallsofourgarden:thispleasureconsistedinprospectofnoblesummitsgirdlingagreathill-hollow,richinverdureandshadow;inabrightbeck,fullofdarkstonesandsparklingeddies.HowdifferenthadthisscenelookedwhenIvieweditlaidoutbeneaththeironskyofwinter,stiffenedinfrost,shroudedwithsnow!—whenmistsaschillasdeathwanderedtotheimpulseofeastwinds

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alongthosepurplepeaks,androlleddown“ing”andholmtilltheyblendedwiththefrozenfogofthebeck!Thatbeckitselfwasthenatorrent,turbidandcurbless:ittoreasunderthewood,andsentaravingsoundthroughtheair,oftenthickenedwithwildrainorwhirlingsleet;andfortheforestonitsbanks,THATshowedonlyranksofskeletons.

ApriladvancedtoMay:abrightsereneMayitwas;daysofbluesky,placidsunshine,andsoftwesternorsoutherngalesfilledupitsduration.Andnowvegetationmaturedwithvigour;Lowoodshooklooseitstresses;itbecameallgreen,allflowery;itsgreatelm,ash,andoakskeletonswererestoredtomajesticlife;woodlandplantssprangupprofuselyinitsrecesses;unnumberedvarietiesofmossfilleditshollows,anditmadeastrangeground-sunshineoutofthewealthofitswildprimroseplants:Ihaveseentheirpalegoldgleaminovershadowedspotslikescatteringsofthesweetestlustre.AllthisIenjoyedoftenandfully,free,unwatched,andalmostalone:forthisunwontedlibertyandpleasuretherewasacause,towhichitnowbecomesmytasktoadvert.

HaveInotdescribedapleasantsiteforadwelling,whenIspeakofitasbosomedinhillandwood,andrisingfromthevergeofastream?Assuredly,pleasantenough:butwhetherhealthyornotisanotherquestion.

Thatforest-dell,whereLowoodlay,wasthecradleoffogandfog-bredpestilence;which,quickeningwiththe

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quickeningspring,creptintotheOrphanAsylum,breathedtyphusthroughitscrowdedschoolroomanddormitory,and,ereMayarrived,transformedtheseminaryintoanhospital.

Semi-starvationandneglectedcoldshadpredisposedmostofthepupilstoreceiveinfection:forty-fiveoutoftheeightygirlslayillatonetime.Classeswerebrokenup,rulesrelaxed.Thefewwhocontinuedwellwereallowedalmostunlimitedlicense;becausethemedicalattendantinsistedonthenecessityoffrequentexercisetokeeptheminhealth:andhaditbeenotherwise,noonehadleisuretowatchorrestrainthem.MissTemple’swholeattentionwasabsorbedbythepatients:shelivedinthesick-room,neverquittingitexcepttosnatchafewhours’restatnight.Theteacherswerefullyoccupiedwithpackingupandmakingothernecessarypreparationsforthedepartureofthosegirlswhowerefortunateenoughtohavefriendsandrelationsableandwillingtoremovethemfromtheseatofcontagion.Many,alreadysmitten,wenthomeonlytodie:somediedattheschool,andwereburiedquietlyandquickly,thenatureofthemaladyforbiddingdelay.

WhilediseasehadthusbecomeaninhabitantofLowood,anddeathitsfrequentvisitor;whiletherewasgloomandfearwithinitswalls;whileitsroomsandpassagessteamedwithhospitalsmells,thedrugandthepastillestrivingvainlytoovercometheeffluviaofmortality,thatbrightMayshoneuncloudedovertheboldhillsandbeautifulwoodlandoutofdoors.Itsgarden,too,glowedwithflowers:hollyhockshad

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sprunguptallastrees,lilieshadopened,tulipsandroseswereinbloom;thebordersofthelittlebedsweregaywithpinkthriftandcrimsondoubledaisies;thesweetbriarsgaveout,morningandevening,theirscentofspiceandapples;andthesefragranttreasureswerealluselessformostoftheinmatesofLowood,excepttofurnishnowandthenahandfulofherbsandblossomstoputinacoffin.

ButI,andtherestwhocontinuedwell,enjoyedfullythebeautiesofthesceneandseason;theyletusrambleinthewood,likegipsies,frommorningtillnight;wedidwhatweliked,wentwhereweliked:welivedbettertoo.Mr.BrocklehurstandhisfamilynevercamenearLowoodnow:householdmatterswerenotscrutinisedinto;thecrosshousekeeperwasgone,drivenawaybythefearofinfection;hersuccessor,whohadbeenmatronattheLowtonDispensary,unusedtothewaysofhernewabode,providedwithcomparativeliberality.Besides,therewerefewertofeed;thesickcouldeatlittle;ourbreakfast-basinswerebetterfilled;whentherewasnotimetopreparearegulardinner,whichoftenhappened,shewouldgiveusalargepieceofcoldpie,orathicksliceofbreadandcheese,andthiswecarriedawaywithustothewood,whereweeachchosethespotwelikedbest,anddinedsumptuously.

Myfavouriteseatwasasmoothandbroadstone,risingwhiteanddryfromtheverymiddleofthebeck,andonlytobegotatbywadingthroughthewater;afeatIaccomplishedbarefoot.Thestonewasjustbroadenoughtoaccommodate,comfortably,anothergirland

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me,atthattimemychosencomrade—oneMaryAnnWilson;ashrewd,observantpersonage,whosesocietyItookpleasurein,partlybecauseshewaswittyandoriginal,andpartlybecauseshehadamannerwhichsetmeatmyease.SomeyearsolderthanI,sheknewmoreoftheworld,andcouldtellmemanythingsIlikedtohear:withhermycuriosityfoundgratification:tomyfaultsalsoshegaveampleindulgence,neverimposingcurborreinonanythingIsaid.Shehadaturnfornarrative,Iforanalysis;shelikedtoinform,Itoquestion;sowegotonswimminglytogether,derivingmuchentertainment,ifnotmuchimprovement,fromourmutualintercourse.

Andwhere,meantime,wasHelenBurns?WhydidInotspendthesesweetdaysoflibertywithher?HadIforgottenher?orwasIsoworthlessastohavegrowntiredofherpuresociety?SurelytheMaryAnnWilsonIhavementionedwasinferiortomyfirstacquaintance:shecouldonlytellmeamusingstories,andreciprocateanyracyandpungentgossipIchosetoindulgein;while,ifIhavespokentruthofHelen,shewasqualifiedtogivethosewhoenjoyedtheprivilegeofherconverseatasteoffarhigherthings.

True,reader;andIknewandfeltthis:andthoughIamadefectivebeing,withmanyfaultsandfewredeemingpoints,yetInevertiredofHelenBurns;noreverceasedtocherishforherasentimentofattachment,asstrong,tender,andrespectfulasanythateveranimatedmyheart.Howcoulditbeotherwise,whenHelen,atalltimesandunderallcircumstances,evincedformea

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quietandfaithfulfriendship,whichill-humourneversoured,norirritationnevertroubled?ButHelenwasillatpresent:forsomeweeksshehadbeenremovedfrommysighttoIknewnotwhatroomupstairs.Shewasnot,Iwastold,inthehospitalportionofthehousewiththefeverpatients;forhercomplaintwasconsumption,nottyphus:andbyconsumptionI,inmyignorance,understoodsomethingmild,whichtimeandcarewouldbesuretoalleviate.

Iwasconfirmedinthisideabythefactofheronceortwicecomingdownstairsonverywarmsunnyafternoons,andbeingtakenbyMissTempleintothegarden;but,ontheseoccasions,Iwasnotallowedtogoandspeaktoher;Ionlysawherfromtheschoolroomwindow,andthennotdistinctly;forshewasmuchwrappedup,andsatatadistanceundertheverandah.

Oneevening,inthebeginningofJune,IhadstayedoutverylatewithMaryAnninthewood;wehad,asusual,separatedourselvesfromtheothers,andhadwanderedfar;sofarthatwelostourway,andhadtoaskitatalonelycottage,whereamanandwomanlived,wholookedafteraherdofhalf-wildswinethatfedonthemastinthewood.Whenwegotback,itwasaftermoonrise:apony,whichweknewtobethesurgeon’s,wasstandingatthegardendoor.MaryAnnremarkedthatshesupposedsomeonemustbeveryill,asMr.Bateshadbeensentforatthattimeoftheevening.Shewentintothehouse;IstayedbehindafewminutestoplantinmygardenahandfulofrootsIhaddugupintheforest,andwhichIfearedwouldwitherifIleft

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themtillthemorning.Thisdone,Ilingeredyetalittlelonger:theflowerssmeltsosweetasthedewfell;itwassuchapleasantevening,soserene,sowarm;thestillglowingwestpromisedsofairlyanotherfinedayonthemorrow;themoonrosewithsuchmajestyinthegraveeast.Iwasnotingthesethingsandenjoyingthemasachildmight,whenitenteredmymindasithadneverdonebefore:-

“Howsadtobelyingnowonasickbed,andtobeindangerofdying!Thisworldispleasant—itwouldbedrearytobecalledfromit,andtohavetogowhoknowswhere?”

Andthenmymindmadeitsfirstearnestefforttocomprehendwhathadbeeninfusedintoitconcerningheavenandhell;andforthefirsttimeitrecoiled,baffled;andforthefirsttimeglancingbehind,oneachside,andbeforeit,itsawallroundanunfathomedgulf:itfelttheonepointwhereitstood—thepresent;alltherestwasformlesscloudandvacantdepth;anditshudderedatthethoughtoftottering,andplungingamidthatchaos.Whileponderingthisnewidea,Iheardthefrontdooropen;Mr.Batescameout,andwithhimwasanurse.Aftershehadseenhimmounthishorseanddepart,shewasabouttoclosethedoor,

butIranuptoher.

“HowisHelenBurns?”

“Verypoorly,”wastheanswer.

“IsitherMr.Bateshasbeentosee?”

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“Yes.”

“Andwhatdoeshesayabouther?”

“Hesaysshe’llnotbeherelong.”

Thisphrase,utteredinmyhearingyesterday,wouldhaveonlyconveyedthenotionthatshewasabouttoberemovedtoNorthumberland,toherownhome.Ishouldnothavesuspectedthatitmeantshewasdying;butIknewinstantlynow!ItopenedclearonmycomprehensionthatHelenBurnswasnumberingherlastdaysinthisworld,andthatshewasgoingtobetakentotheregionofspirits,ifsuchregiontherewere.Iexperiencedashockofhorror,thenastrongthrillofgrief,thenadesire—anecessitytoseeher;andIaskedinwhatroomshelay.

“SheisinMissTemple’sroom,”saidthenurse.“MayIgoupandspeaktoher?”

“Ohno,child!Itisnotlikely;andnowitistimeforyoutocomein;you’llcatchthefeverifyoustopoutwhenthedewisfalling.”

Thenurseclosedthefrontdoor;Iwentinbythesideentrancewhichledtotheschoolroom:Iwasjustintime;itwasnineo’clock,andMissMillerwascallingthepupilstogotobed.

Itmightbetwohourslater,probablyneareleven,whenI—nothavingbeenabletofallasleep,anddeeming,fromtheperfectsilenceofthedormitory,thatmy

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companionswereallwraptinprofoundrepose—rosesoftly,putonmyfrockovermynight-dress,and,withoutshoes,creptfromtheapartment,andsetoffinquestofMissTemple’sroom.Itwasquiteattheotherendofthehouse;butIknewmyway;andthelightoftheuncloudedsummermoon,enteringhereandthereatpassagewindows,enabledmetofinditwithoutdifficulty.AnodourofcamphorandburntvinegarwarnedmewhenIcamenearthefeverroom:andIpasseditsdoorquickly,fearfullestthenursewhosatupallnightshouldhearme.Idreadedbeingdiscoveredandsentback;forIMUSTseeHelen,—Imustembraceherbeforeshedied,—Imustgiveheronelastkiss,exchangewithheronelastword.

Havingdescendedastaircase,traversedaportionofthehousebelow,andsucceededinopeningandshutting,withoutnoise,twodoors,Ireachedanotherflightofsteps;theseImounted,andthenjustoppositetomewasMissTemple’sroom.Alightshonethroughthekeyholeandfromunderthedoor;aprofoundstillnesspervadedthevicinity.Comingnear,Ifoundthedoorslightlyajar;probablytoadmitsomefreshairintothecloseabodeofsickness.Indisposedtohesitate,andfullofimpatientimpulses—soulandsensesquiveringwithkeenthroes—Iputitbackandlookedin.MyeyesoughtHelen,andfearedtofinddeath.

ClosebyMissTemple’sbed,andhalfcoveredwithitswhitecurtains,therestoodalittlecrib.Isawtheoutlineofaformundertheclothes,butthefacewashidbythehangings:thenurseIhadspokentointhegardensatin

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aneasy-chairasleep;anunsnuffedcandleburntdimlyonthetable.MissTemplewasnottobeseen:Iknewafterwardsthatshehadbeencalledtoadeliriouspatientinthefever-room.Iadvanced;thenpausedbythecribside:myhandwasonthecurtain,butIpreferredspeakingbeforeIwithdrewit.Istillrecoiledatthedreadofseeingacorpse.

“Helen!”Iwhisperedsoftly,“areyouawake?”

Shestirredherself,putbackthecurtain,andIsawherface,pale,wasted,butquitecomposed:shelookedsolittlechangedthatmyfearwasinstantlydissipated.

“Canitbeyou,Jane?”sheasked,inherowngentlevoice.

“Oh!”Ithought,“sheisnotgoingtodie;theyaremistaken:shecouldnotspeakandlooksocalmlyifshewere.”

Igotontohercribandkissedher:herforeheadwascold,andhercheekbothcoldandthin,andsowereherhandandwrist;butshesmiledasofold.

“Whyareyoucomehere,Jane?Itispasteleveno’clock:Ihearditstrikesomeminutessince.”

“Icametoseeyou,Helen:Iheardyouwereveryill,andIcouldnotsleeptillIhadspokentoyou.”

“Youcametobidmegood-bye,then:youarejustintimeprobably.”

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“Areyougoingsomewhere,Helen?Areyougoinghome?”

“Yes;tomylonghome—mylasthome.”

“No,no,Helen!”Istopped,distressed.WhileItriedtodevourmytears,afitofcoughingseizedHelen;itdidnot,however,wakethenurse;whenitwasover,shelaysomeminutesexhausted;thenshewhispered-

“Jane,yourlittlefeetarebare;liedownandcoveryourselfwithmyquilt.”

Ididso:sheputherarmoverme,andInestledclosetoher.Afteralongsilence,sheresumed,stillwhispering-

“Iamveryhappy,Jane;andwhenyouhearthatIamdead,youmustbesureandnotgrieve:thereisnothingtogrieveabout.Weallmustdieoneday,andtheillnesswhichisremovingmeisnotpainful;itisgentleandgradual:mymindisatrest.Ileavenoonetoregretmemuch:Ihaveonlyafather;andheislatelymarried,andwillnotmissme.Bydyingyoung,Ishallescapegreatsufferings.Ihadnotqualitiesortalentstomakemywayverywellintheworld:Ishouldhavebeencontinuallyatfault.”

“Butwhereareyougoingto,Helen?Canyousee?Doyouknow?”

“Ibelieve;Ihavefaith:IamgoingtoGod.”

“WhereisGod?WhatisGod?”

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“MyMakerandyours,whowillneverdestroywhatHecreated.IrelyimplicitlyonHispower,andconfidewhollyinHisgoodness:IcountthehourstillthateventfulonearriveswhichshallrestoremetoHim,revealHimtome.”

“Youaresure,then,Helen,thatthereis