Jane Eyre 简爱 Chapter 8

ERE the half-hour ended, five o'clock struck; school was dismissed, and all were gone into the refectory to tea. I now ventured to descend¹: it was deep dusk; I retired² into a corner and sat down on the floor. The spell by which I had been so far supported began to dissolve; reaction took place, and soon, so overwhelming was the grief that seized me, I sank prostrate³ with my face to the ground. Now I wept: Helen Burns was not here; nothing sustained me; left to myself I abandoned myself, and my tears watered the boards. I had meant to be so good, and to do so much at Lowood: to make so many friends, to earn respect and win affection. Already I had made visible progress; that very morning I had reached the head of my class; Miss Miller⁴ had praised me warmly; Miss Temple had smiled approbation⁵; she had promised to teach me drawing, and to let me learn French, if I continued to make similar improvement two months longer: and then I was well received by my fellow-pupils; treated as an equal by those of my own age, and not molested⁶ by any; now, here I lay again crushed and trodden on; and could I ever rise more?

 

'Never,' I thought; and ardently⁸ I wished to die. While sobbing⁹ out this wish in broken accents, some one approached: I started up- again Helen Burns was near me; the fading fires just showed her coming up the long, vacant room; she brought my coffee and bread.

 

'Come, eat something,' she said; but I put both away from me, feeling as if a drop or a crumb¹⁰ would have choked me in my present condition. Helen regarded me, probably with surprise: I could not now abate¹¹ my agitation¹², though I tried hard; I continued to weep aloud. She sat down on the ground near me, embraced her knees with her arms, and rested her head upon them; in that attitude she remained silent as an Indian. I was the first who spoke¹³-

 

'Helen, why do you stay with a girl whom everybody believes to be a liar¹⁴?'

 

'Everybody, Jane? Why, there are only eighty people who have heard you called so, and the world contains hundreds of millions.'

 

'But what have I to do with millions? The eighty, I know, despise me.'

 

'Jane, you are mistaken: probably not one in the school either despises or dislikes you: many, I am sure, pity you much.'

 

'How can they pity me after what Mr. Brocklehurst has said?'

 

'Mr. Brocklehurst is not a god: nor is he even a great and admired man; he is little liked here; he never took steps to make himself liked. Had he treated you as an especial favourite, you would have found enemies, declared or covert¹⁵, all around you; as it is, the greater number would offer you sympathy if they dared.

 

Teachers and pupils may look coldly on you for a day or two, but friendly feelings are concealed¹⁶ in their hearts; and if you persevere¹⁷ in doing well, these feelings will ere long appear so much the more evidently for their temporary suppression. Besides, Jane'- she paused.

 

'Well, Helen?' said I, putting my hand into hers: she chafed¹⁸ my fingers gently to warm them, and went on-'If all the world hated you, and believed you wicked, while your own conscience approved you, and absolved¹⁹ you from guilt²⁰, you would not be without friends.'

 

'No; I know I should think well of myself; but that is not enough: if others don't love me I would rather die than live- I cannot bear to be solitary²¹ and hated, Helen.

 

Look here; to gain some real affection from you, or Miss Temple, or any other whom I truly love, I would willingly submit to have the bone of my arm broken, or to let a bull toss me, or to stand behind a kicking horse, and let it dash its hoof²² at my chest-'

 

'Hush²³, Jane! you think too much of the love of human beings; you are too impulsive²⁴, too vehement²⁵; the sovereign hand that created your frame, and put life into it, has provided you with other resources than your feeble self, or than creatures feeble as you.

 

Besides this earth, and besides the race of men, there is an invisible world and a kingdom of spirits: that world is round us, for it is everywhere; and those spirits watch us, for they are commissioned to guard us; and if we were dying in pain and shame, if scorn smote²⁶ us on all sides, and hatred²⁷ crushed us, angels see our tortures, recognise our innocence²⁸ (if innocent we be: as I know you are of this chargewhich Mr. Brocklehurst has weakly and pompously²⁹ repeated at secondhand from Mrs. Reed; for I read a sincere nature in your ardent⁷ eyes and on your clear front), and God waits only the separation of spirit from flesh to crown us with a full reward. Why, then, should we ever sink overwhelmed with distress³⁰, when life is so soon over, and death is so certain an entrance to happiness- to glory?'

 

I was silent; Helen had calmed me; but in the tranquillity³¹ she imparted there was an alloy³² of inexpressible sadness. I felt the impression of woe³³ as she spoke, but I could not tell whence it came; and when, having done speaking, she breathed a little fast and  coughed a short cough, I momentarily forgot my own sorrows to yield to a vague concern for her.

 

Resting my head on Helen's shoulder, I put my arms round her waist; she drew me to her, and we reposed³⁴ in silence. We had not sat long thus, when another person came in. Some heavy clouds, swept from the sky by a rising wind, had left the moon bare; and her light, streaming in through a window near, shone full both on us and on the approaching figure, which we at once recognised as Miss Temple.

 

'I came on purpose to find you, Jane Eyre,' said she; 'I want you in my room; and as Helen Burns is with you, she may come too.'

 

We went; following the superintendent's guidance, we had to thread some intricate passages, and mount a staircase before we reached her apartment; it contained a good fire, and looked cheerful. Miss Temple told Helen Burns to be seated in a low arm-chair on one side of the hearth³⁵, and herself taking another, she called me to her side.

 

'Is it all over?' she asked, looking down at my face. 'Have you cried your grief away?'

 

'I am afraid I never shall do that.'

 

'Why?'

 

'Because I have been wrongly accused; and you, ma'am, and everybody else, will now think me wicked.'

 

'We shall think you what you prove yourself to be, my child.

 

Continue to act as a good girl, and you will satisfy us.'

 

'Shall I, Miss Temple?'

 

'You will,' said she, passing her arm round me. 'And now tell me who is the lady whom Mr. Brocklehurst called your benefactress?'

 

'Mrs. Reed, my uncle's wife. My uncle is dead, and he left me to her care.'

 

'Did she not, then, adopt you of her own accord?'

 

'No, ma'am; she was sorry to have to do it: but my uncle, as I have often heard the servants say, got her to promise before he died that she would always keep me.'

 

'Well now, Jane, you know, or at least I will tell you, that when a criminal is accused, he is always allowed to speak in his own defence.

 

You have been charged with falsehood; defend yourself to me as well as you can. Say whatever your memory suggests as true; but add nothing and exaggerate nothing.'

 

I resolved, in the depth of my heart, that I would be most moderate- most correct; and, having reflected a few minutes in order to arrange coherently what I had to say, I told her all the story of my sad childhood. Exhausted³⁶ by emotion, my language was more subdued³⁷ than it generally was when it developed that sad theme; and mindful of Helen's warnings against the indulgence of resentment³⁸, I infused into the narrative³⁹ far less of gall⁴⁰ and wormwood than ordinary. Thus restrained and simplified, it sounded more credible⁴¹: I felt as I went on that Miss Temple fully⁴² believed me.

 

In the course of the tale I had mentioned Mr. Lloyd as having come to see me after the fit: for I never forgot the, to me, frightful⁴³ episode of the red-room: in detailing which, my excitement was sure, in some degree, to break bounds; for nothing could soften⁴⁴ in my recollection the spasm⁴⁵ of agony which clutched my heart when Mrs. Reed spurned⁴⁶ my wild supplication⁴⁷ for pardon, and locked me a second time in the dark and haunted chamber⁴⁸.

 

I had finished: Miss Temple regarded me a few minutes in silence;

 

she then said-'I know something of Mr. Lloyd; I shall write to him; if his reply agrees with your statement, you shall be publicly cleared from every imputation⁴⁹; to me, Jane, you are clear now.'

 

She kissed me, and still keeping me at her side (where I was well contented⁵⁰ to stand for I derived⁵¹ a child's pleasure from the contemplation of her face, her dress, her one or two ornaments⁵², her white forehead, her clustered and shining curls, and beaming dark eyes), she proceeded to address Helen Burns.

 

'How are you to-night, Helen? Have you coughed much to-day?'

 

'Not quite so much, I think, ma'am.'

 

'And the pain in your chest?'

 

'It is a little better.'

 

Miss Temple got up, took her hand and examined her pulse; then she returned to her own seat: as she resumed it, I heard her sigh low. She was pensive⁵³ a few minutes, then rousing herself, she said cheerfully-'But you two are my visitors to-night; I must treat you as such.' She rang her bell.

 

'Barbara,' she said to the servant who answered it, 'I have not yet had tea; bring the tray and place cups for these two young ladies.'

 

And a tray was soon brought. How pretty, to my eyes, did the china cups and bright teapot look, placed on the little round table near the fire! How fragrant⁵⁴ was the steam of the beverage⁵⁵, and the scent⁵⁶ of the toast! of which, however, I, to my dismay (for I was beginning to be hungry), discerned only a very small portion: Miss Temple discerned it too.

 

'Barbara,' said she, 'can you not bring a little more bread and butter? There is not enough for three.'

 

Barbara went out: she returned soon-'Madam, Mrs. Harden says she has sent up the usual quantity.' Mrs. Harden, be it observed, was the housekeeper⁵⁷: a woman after Mr. Brocklehurst's own heart, made up of equal parts of whalebone and iron.

 

'Oh, very well!' returned Miss Temple; 'we must make it do, Barbara, I suppose.' And as the girl withdrew she added, smiling, 'Fortunately, I have it in my power to supply deficiencies for this once.'

 

Having invited Helen and me to approach the table, and placed before each of us a cup of tea with one delicious but thin morsel⁵⁸ of toast, she got up, unlocked a drawer, and taking from it a parcel wrapped in paper, disclosed presently to our eyes a good-sized seed-cake.

 

'I meant to give each of you some of this to take with you,' said she, 'but as there is so little toast, you must have it now,' and she proceeded to cut slices with a generous hand.

 

We feasted that evening as on nectar and ambrosia⁶⁰; and not the least delight of the entertainment was the smile of gratification with which our hostess regarded us, as we satisfied our famished⁶¹ appetites on the delicate fare she liberally supplied.

 

Tea over and the tray removed, she again summoned us to the fire; we sat one on each side of her, and now a conversation followed between her and Helen, which it was indeed a privilege to be admitted to hear.

 

Miss Temple had always something of serenity⁶² in her air, of state in her mien⁶³, of refined propriety⁶⁴ in her language, which precluded⁶⁵ deviation⁶⁶ into the ardent, the excited, the eager: something which chastened the pleasure of those who looked on her and listened to her, by a controlling sense of awe⁵⁹; and such was my feeling now: but as to Helen Burns, I was struck with wonder.

 

The refreshing⁶⁷ meal, the brilliant fire, the presence and kindness of her beloved instructress, or, perhaps, more than all these, something in her own unique mind, had roused her powers within her. They woke, they kindled⁶⁸: first, they glowed in the bright tint⁶⁹ of her cheek, which till this hour I had never seen but pale and bloodless; then they shone in the liquid lustre⁷⁰ of her eyes, which had suddenly acquired a beauty more singular than that of Miss Temple's- a beauty neither of fine colour nor long eyelash, nor pencilled brow, but of meaning, of movement, of radiance. Then her soul sat on her lips, and language flowed, from what source I cannot tell. Has a girl of fourteen a heart large enough, vigorous enough, to hold the swelling⁷¹ spring of pure, full, fervid⁷² eloquence⁷³? Such was the characteristic of Helen's discourse⁷⁴ on that, to me, memorable⁷⁵ evening; her spirit seemed hastening to live within a very brief span as much as many live during a protracted⁷⁶ existence.

 

They conversed⁷⁷ of things I had never heard of; of nations and times past; of countries far away; of secrets of nature discovered or guessed at: they spoke of books: how many they had read! What stores of knowledge they possessed⁷⁸! Then they seemed so familiar with French names and French authors: but my amazement⁷⁹ reached its climax⁸⁰ when Miss Temple asked Helen if she sometimes snatched a moment to recall the Latin her father had taught her, and taking a book from a shelf, bade her read and construe⁸¹ a page of Virgil; and Helen obeyed, my organ of veneration⁸² expanding at every sounding line. She had scarcely finished ere the bell announced bedtime! no delay could be admitted; Miss Temple embraced us both, saying, as she drew us to her heart-

 

'God bless you, my children!'

 

Helen she held a little longer than me: she let her go more reluctantly; it was Helen her eye followed to the door; it was for her she a second time breathed a sad sigh; for her she wiped a tear from her cheek.

 

On reaching the bedroom, we heard the voice of Miss Scatcherd: she was examining drawers; she had just pulled out Helen Burns's, and when we entered Helen was greeted with a sharp reprimand, and told that to-morrow she should have half a dozen of untidily folded articles pinned to her shoulder.

 

'My things were indeed in shameful⁸³ disorder,' murmured Helen to me, in a low voice: 'I intended to have arranged them, but I forgot.'

 

Next morning, Miss Scatcherd wrote in conspicuous⁸⁵ characters on a piece of pasteboard the word 'Slattern,' and bound it like a phylactery round Helen's large, mild, intelligent, and benign-looking forehead. She wore it till evening, patient, unresentful, regarding it as a deserved punishment. The moment Miss Scatcherd withdrew after afternoon school, I ran to Helen, tore it off, and thrust it into the fire: the fury of which she was incapable⁸⁶ had been burning in my soul all day, and tears, hot and large, had continually been scalding my cheek; for the spectacle of her sad resignation gave me an intolerable pain at the heart.

 

About a week subsequently to the incidents above narrated⁸⁷, Miss Temple, who had written to Mr. Lloyd, received his answer: it appeared that what he said went to corroborate⁸⁸ my account. Miss Temple, having assembled the whole school, announced that inquiry⁸⁹ had been made into the charges alleged⁹⁰ against Jane Eyre, and that she was most happy to be able to pronounce her completely cleared from every imputation. The teachers then shook hands with me and kissed me, and a murmur⁸⁴ of pleasure ran through the ranks of my companions.

 

Thus relieved of a grievous load, I from that hour set to work afresh, resolved to pioneer my way through every difficulty: I toiled⁹¹ hard, and my success was proportionate to my efforts; my memory, not naturally tenacious⁹², improved with practice; exercise sharpened my wits; in a few weeks I was promoted to a higher class; in less than two months I was allowed to commence French and drawing. I learned the first two tenses of the verb Etre, and sketched⁹³ my first cottage (whose walls, by the bye, outrivalled in slope those of the leaning tower of Pisa), on the same day. That night, on going to bed, I forgot to prepare in imagination the Barmecide supper of hot roast potatoes, or white bread and new milk, with which I was wont⁹⁴ to amuse my inward cravings: I feasted instead on the spectacle of ideal drawings, which I saw in the dark; all the work of my own hands: freely pencilled houses and trees, picturesque⁹⁵ rocks and ruins, Cuyp-like groups of cattle, sweet paintings of butterflies hovering⁹⁶ over unblown roses, of birds picking at ripe cherries, of wrens⁹⁷' nests enclosing pearl-like eggs, wreathed about with young ivy⁹⁸ sprays. I examined, too, in thought, the possibility of my ever being able to translate currently a certain little French story which Madame Pierrot had that day shown me; nor was that problem solved to my satisfaction ere I fell sweetly asleep.

 

Well has Solomon said- 'Better is a dinner of herbs where love is, than a stalled ox and hatred therewith.'

 

I would not now have exchanged Lowood with all its privations for Gateshead and its daily luxuries.

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