第290页
《简·爱(英文版)》章节:第290页,宠文网网友提供全文无弹窗免费在线阅读。!
audacity. I saw even that to be thus frankly addressed on a subject he
had deemed unapproachable- to hear it thus freely handled- was
beginning to be felt by him as a new pleasure- an unhoped-for
relief. Reserved people often really need the frank discussion of
their sentiments and griefs more than the expansive. The
sternest-seeming stoic is human after all; and to 'burst' with
boldness and good-will into 'the silent sea' of their souls is often
to confer on them the first of obligations.
'She likes you, I am sure,' said I, as I stood behind his chair,
'and her father respects you. Moreover, she is a sweet girl- rather
thoughtless; but you would have sufficient thought for both yourself
and her. You ought to marry her.'
'Does she like me?' he asked.
'Certainly; better than she likes any one else. She talks of you
continually: there is no subject she enjoys so much or touches upon so
often.'
'It is very pleasant to hear this,' he said- 'very: go on for
another quarter of an hour.' And he actually took out his watch and
laid it upon the table to measure the time.
'But where is the use of going on,' I asked, 'when you are probably
preparing some iron blow of contradiction, or forging a fresh chain to
fetter your heart?'
'Don't imagine such hard things. Fancy me yielding and melting,
as I am doing: human love rising like a freshly opened fountain in
my mind and overflowing with sweet inundation all the field I have
so carefully and with such labour prepared- so assiduously sown with
the seeds of good intentions, of self-denying plans. And now it is
deluged with a nectarous flood- the young germs swamped- delicious
poison cankering them: now I see myself stretched on an ottoman in the
drawing-room at Vale Hall at my bride Rosamond Oliver's feet: she is
talking to me with her sweet voice- gazing down on me with those
eyes your skilful hand has copied so well- smiling at me with these
coral lips. She is mine- I am hers- this present life and passing
world suffice to me. Hush! say nothing- my heart is full of delight-
my senses are entranced- let the time I marked pass in peace.'
I humoured him: the watch ticked on: he breathed fast and low: I
stood silent. Amidst this hush the quarter sped; he replaced the
watch, laid the picture down, rose, and stood on the hearth.
'Now,' said he, 'that little space was given to delirium and
delusion. I rested my temples on the breast of temptation, and put
my neck voluntarily under her yoke of flowers; I tasted her cup. The
pillow was burning: there is an asp in the garland: the wine has a
bitter taste: her promises are hollow- her offers false: I see and
know all this.'
I gazed at him in wonder.
'It is strange,' pursued he, 'that while I love Rosamond Oliver
so wildly- with all the intensity, indeed, of a first passion, the
object of which is exquisitely beautiful, graceful, and fascinating- I