《Jane Eyre》

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Jane Eyre- 第1部分


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Chapter 1

  
there was no possibility of taking a walk that day。 we had been wandering; indeed; in the leafless shrubbery an hour in the morning; but since dinner (mrs。 reed; when there was no pany; dined early) the cold winter wind had brought with it clouds so sombre; and a rain so penetrating; that further out…door exercise was now out of the question。

i was glad of it: i never liked long walks; especially on chilly afternoons: dreadful to me was the ing home in the raw twilight; with nipped fingers and toes; and a heart saddened by the chidings of bessie; the nurse; and humbled by the consciousness of my physical inferiority to eliza; john; and georgiana reed。

the said eliza; john; and georgiana were now clustered round their mama in the drawing…room: she lay reclined on a sofa by the fireside; and with her darlings about her (for the time neither quarrelling nor crying) looked perfectly happy。 me; she had dispensed from joining the group; saying; “she regretted to be under the necessity of keeping me at a distance; but that until she heard from bessie; and could discover by her own observation; that i was endeavouring in good earnest to acquire a more sociable and childlike disposition; a more attractive and sprightly manner— something lighter; franker; more natural; as it were—she really must exclude me from privileges intended only for contented; happy; little children。”

“what does bessie say i have done?” i asked。

“jane; i don’t like cavillers or questioners; besides; there is something truly forbidding in a child taking up her elders in that manner。 be seated somewhere; and until you can speak pleasantly; remain silent。”

a breakfast…room adjoined the drawing…room; i slipped in there。 it contained a bookcase: i soon possessed myself of a volume; taking care that it should be one stored with pictures。 i mounted into the window…seat: gathering up my feet; i sat cross…legged; like a turk; and; having drawn the red moreen curtain nearly close; i was shrined in double retirement。

folds of scarlet drapery shut in my view to the right hand; to the left were the clear panes of glass; protecting; but not separating me from the drear november day。 at intervals; while turning over the leaves of my book; i studied the aspect of that winter afternoon。 afar; it offered a pale blank of mist and cloud; near a scene of wet lawn and storm…beat shrub; with ceaseless rain sweeping away wildly before a long and lamentable blast。

i returned to my book—bewick’s history of british birds: the letterpress thereof i cared little for; generally speaking; and yet there were certain introductory pages that; child as i was; i could not pass quite as a blank。 they were those which treat of the haunts of sea…fowl; of “the solitary rocks and promontories” by them only inhabited; of the coast of norway; studded with isles from its southern extremity; the lindeness; or naze; to the north cape—

“where the northern ocean; in vast whirls;

boils round the naked; melancholy isles

of farthest thule; and the atlantic surge

pours in among the stormy hebrides。”

nor could i pass unnoticed the suggestion of the bleak shores of lapland; siberia; spitzbergen; nova zembla; iceland; greenland; with “the vast sweep of the arctic zone; and those forlorn regions of dreary space;—that reservoir of frost and snow; where firm fields of ice; the accumulation of centuries of winters; glazed in alpine heights above heights; surround the pole; and concentre the multiplied rigours of extreme cold。” of these death…white realms i formed an idea of my own: shadowy; like all the half…prehended notions that float dim through children’s brains; but strangely impressive。 the words in these introductory pages connected themselves with the succeeding vignettes; and gave significance to the rock standing up alone in a sea of billow and spray; to the broken boat stranded on a desolate coast; to the cold and ghastly moon glancing through bars of cloud at a wreck just sinking。

i cannot tell what sentiment haunted the quite solitary churchyard; with its inscribed headstone; its gate; its two trees; its low horizon; girdled by a broken wall; and its newly…risen crescent; attesting the hour of eventide。

the two ships becalmed on a torpid sea; i believed to be marine phantoms。

the fiend pinning down the thief’s pack behind him; i passed over quickly: it was an object of terror。

so was the black horned thing seated aloof on a rock; surveying a distant crowd surrounding a gallows。

each picture told a story; mysterious often to my undeveloped understanding and imperfect feelings; yet ever profoundly interesting: as interesting as the tales bessie sometimes narrated on winter evenings; when she chanced to be in good humour; and when; having brought her ironing…table to the nursery hearth; she allowed us to sit about it; and while she got up mrs。 reed’s lace frills; and crimped her nightcap borders; fed our eager attention with passages of love and adventure taken from old fairy tales and other ballads; or (as at a later period i discovered) from the pages of pamela; and henry; earl of moreland。

with bewick on my knee; i was then happy: happy at least in my way。 i feared nothing but interruption; and that came too soon。 the breakfast…room door opened。

“boh! madam mope!” cried the voice of john reed; then he paused: he found the room apparently empty。

“where the dickens is she!” he continued。 “lizzy! georgy! (calling to his sisters) joan is not here: tell mama she is run out into the rain—bad animal!”

“it is well i drew the curtain;” thought i; and i wished fervently he might not discover my hiding…place: nor would john reed have found it out himself; he was not quick either of vision or conception; but eliza just put her head in at the door; and said at once—

“she is in the window…seat; to be sure; jack。”

and i came out immediately; for i trembled at the idea of being dragged forth by the said jack。

“what do you want?” i asked; with awkward diffidence。

“say; ‘what do you want; master reed?’” was the answer。 “i want you to e here;” and seating himself in an arm…chair; he intimated by a gesture that i was to approach and stand before him。

john reed was a schoolboy of fourteen years old; four years older than i; for i was but ten: large and stout for his age; with a dingy and unwholesome skin; thick lineaments in a spacious visage; heavy limbs and large extremities。 he gorged himself habitually at table; which made him bilious; and gave him a dim and bleared eye and flabby cheeks。 he ought now to have been at school; but his mama had taken him home for a month or two; “on account of his delicate health。” mr。 miles; the master; affirmed that he would do very well if he had fewer cakes and sweetmeats sent him from home; but the mother’s heart turned from an opinion so harsh; and inclined rather to the more refined idea that john’s sallowness was owing to over…application and; perhaps; to pining after home。

john had not much affection for his mother and sisters; and an antipathy to me。 he bullied and punished me; not two or three times in the week; nor once or twice in the day; but continually: every nerve i had feared him; and every morsel of flesh in my bones shrank when he came near。 there were moments when i was bewildered by the terror he inspired; because i had no appeal whatever against either his menaces or his inflictions; the servants did not like to offend their young master by taking my part against him; and mrs。 reed was blind and deaf on the subject: she never saw him strike or heard him abuse me; though he did both now and then in her very presence; more frequently; however; behind her back。

habitually obedient to john; i came up to his chair: he spent some three minutes in thrusting out his tongue at me as far as he could without damaging the roots: i knew he would soon strike; and while dreading the blow; i mused on the disgusting and ugly appearance of him who would presently deal it。 i wonder if he read that notion in my face; for; all at once; without speaking; he struck suddenly and strongly。 i tottered; and on regaining my equilibrium retired back a step or two from his chair。

“that is for your impudence in answering mama awhile since;” said he; “and for your sneaking way of getting behind curtains; and for the look you had in your eyes two minutes since; you rat!”

accustomed to john reed’s abuse; i never had an idea of replying to it; my care was how to endure the blow which would certainly follow the insult。

“what were you doing behind the curtain?” he asked。

“i was reading。”

“show the book。”

i returned to the window and fetched it thence。

“you have no business to take our books; you are a dependent; mama says; you have no money; your father left you none; you ought to beg; and not to live here with gentlemen’s children like us; and eat the same meals we do; and wear clothes at our mama’s expense。 now; i’ll teach you to rummage my bookshelves: for they are mine; all the house belongs to me; or will do in a few years。 go and stand by the door; out of the way of the mirror and the windows。”

i did so; not at first 
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