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Jane Eyre-第6章

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silent tears; no sooner had i wiped one salt drop from my cheek than another followed。 yet; i thought; i ought to have been happy; for none of the reeds were there; they were all gone out in the carriage with their mama。 abbot; too; was sewing in another room; and bessie; as she moved hither and thither; putting away toys and arranging drawers; addressed to me every now and then a word of unwonted kindness。 this state of things should have been to me a paradise of peace; accustomed as i was to a life of ceaseless reprimand and thankless fagging; but; in fact; my racked nerves were now in such a state that no calm could soothe; and no pleasure excite them agreeably。

bessie had been down into the kitchen; and she brought up with her a tart on a certain brightly painted china plate; whose bird of paradise; nestling in a wreath of convolvuli and rosebuds; had been wont to stir in me a most enthusiastic sense of admiration; and which plate i had often petitioned to be allowed to take in my hand in order to examine it more closely; but had always hitherto been deemed unworthy of such a privilege。 this precious vessel was now placed on my knee; and i was cordially invited to eat the circlet of delicate pastry upon it。 vain favour! ing; like most other favours long deferred and often wished for; too late! i could not eat the tart; and the plumage of the bird; the tints of the flowers; seemed strangely faded: i put both plate and tart away。 bessie asked if i would have a book: the word book acted as a transient stimulus; and i begged her to fetch gulliver’s travels from the library。 this book i had again and again perused with delight。 i considered it a narrative of facts; and discovered in it a vein of interest deeper than what i found in fairy tales: for as to the elves; having sought them in vain among foxglove leaves and bells; under mushrooms and beneath the ground…ivy mantling old wall…nooks; i had at length made up my mind to the sad truth; that they were all gone out of england to some savage country where the woods were wilder and thicker; and the population more scant; whereas; lilliput and brobdignag being; in my creed; solid parts of the earth’s surface; i doubted not that i might one day; by taking a long voyage; see with my own eyes the little fields; houses; and trees; the diminutive people; the tiny cows; sheep; and birds of the one realm; and the corn…fields forest…high; the mighty mastiffs; the monster cats; the tower…like men and women; of the other。 yet; when this cherished volume was now placed in my hand—when i turned over its leaves; and sought in its marvellous pictures the charm i had; till now; never failed to find—all was eerie and dreary; the giants were gaunt goblins; the pigmies malevolent and fearful imps; gulliver a most desolate wanderer in most dread and dangerous regions。 i closed the book; which i dared no longer peruse; and put it on the table; beside the untasted tart。

bessie had now finished dusting and tidying the room; and having washed her hands; she opened a certain little drawer; full of splendid shreds of silk and satin; and began making a new bonnet for georgiana’s doll。 meantime she sang: her song was—

“in the days when we went gipsying;

a long time ago。”

i had often heard the song before; and always with lively delight; for bessie had a sweet voice;—at least; i thought so。 but now; though her voice was still sweet; i found in its melody an indescribable sadness。 sometimes; preoccupied with her work; she sang the refrain very low; very lingeringly; “a long time ago” came out like the saddest cadence of a funeral hymn。 she passed into another ballad; this time a really doleful one。

“my feet they are sore; and my limbs they are weary;

long is the way; and the mountains are wild;

soon will the twilight close moonless and dreary

over the path of the poor orphan child。

why did they send me so far and so lonely;

up where the moors spread and grey rocks are piled?

men are hard…hearted; and kind angels only

watch o’er the steps of a poor orphan child。

yet distant and soft the night breeze is blowing;

clouds there are none; and clear stars beam mild;

god; in his mercy; protection is showing;

fort and hope to the poor orphan child。

ev’n should i fall o’er the broken bridge passing;

or stray in the marshes; by false lights beguiled;

still will my father; with promise and blessing;

take to his bosom the poor orphan child。

there is a thought that for strength should avail me;

though both of shelter and kindred despoiled;

heaven is a home; and a rest will not fail me;

god is a friend to the poor orphan child。”

“e; miss jane; don’t cry;” said bessie as she finished。 she might as well have said to the fire; “don’t burn!” but how could she divine the morbid suffering to which i was a prey? in the course of the morning mr。 lloyd came again。

“what; already up!” said he; as he entered the nursery。 “well; nurse; how is she?”

bessie answered that i was doing very well。

“then she ought to look more cheerful。 e here; miss jane: your name is jane; is it not?”

“yes; sir; jane eyre。”

“well; you have been crying; miss jane eyre; can you tell me what about? have you any pain?”

“no; sir。”

“oh! i daresay she is crying because she could not go out with missis in the carriage;” interposed bessie。

“surely not! why; she is too old for such pettishness。”

i thought so too; and my self…esteem being wounded by the false charge; i answered promptly; “i never cried for such a thing in my life: i hate going out in the carriage。 i cry because i am miserable。”

“oh fie; miss!” said bessie。

the good apothecary appeared a little puzzled。 i was standing before him; he fixed his eyes on me very steadily: his eyes were small and grey; not very bright; but i dare say i should think them shrewd now: he had a hard…featured yet good…natured looking face。 having considered me at leisure; he said—

“what made you ill yesterday?”

“she had a fall;” said bessie; again putting in her word。

“fall! why; that is like a baby again! can’t she manage to walk at her age? she must be eight o
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