第318页
《简·爱(英文版)》章节:第318页,宠文网网友提供全文无弹窗免费在线阅读。!
warrior-march trample down: but as his wife- at his side always, and
always restrained, and always checked- forced to keep the fire of my
nature continually low, to compel it to burn inwardly and never
utter a cry, though the imprisoned flame consumed vital after vital-
this would be unendurable.
'St. John!' I exclaimed, when I had got so far in my meditation.
'Well?' he answered icily.
'I repeat I freely consent to go with you as your
fellow-missionary, but not as your wife; I cannot marry you and become
part of you.'
'A part of me you must become,' he answered steadily: 'otherwise
the whole bargain is void. How can I, a man not yet thirty, take out
with me to India a girl of nineteen, unless she be married to me?
How can we be for ever together- sometimes in solitudes, sometimes
amidst savage tribes- and unwed?'
'Very well,' I said shortly; 'under the circumstances, quite as
well as if I were either your real sister, or a man and a clergyman
like yourself.'
'It is known that you are not my sister; I cannot introduce you
as such: to attempt it would be to fasten injurious suspicions on us
both. And for the rest, though you have a man's vigorous brain, you
have a woman's heart and- it would not do.'
'It would do,' I affirmed with some disdain, 'perfectly well. I
have a woman's heart, but not where you are concerned; for you I
have only a comrade's constancy; a fellow-soldier's frankness,
fidelity, fraternity, if you like; a neophyte's respect and submission
to his hierophant: nothing more- don't fear.'
'It is what I want,' he said, speaking to himself; 'it is just what
I want. And there are obstacles in the way: they must be hewn down.
Jane, you would not repent marrying me- be certain of that; we must be
married. I repeat it: there is no other way; and undoubtedly enough of
love would follow upon marriage to render the union right even in your
eyes.'
'I scorn your idea of love,' I could not help saying, as I rose
up and stood before him, leaning my back against the rock. 'I scorn
the counterfeit sentiment you offer: yes, St. John, and I scorn you
when you offer it.'
He looked at me fixedly, compressing his well-cut lips while he did
so. Whether he was incensed or surprised, or what, it was not easy
to tell: he could command his countenance thoroughly.
'I scarcely expected to hear that expression from you,' he said: 'I
think I have done and uttered nothing to deserve scorn.'
I was touched by his gentle tone, and overawed by his high, calm
mien.
'Forgive me the words, St. John; but it is your own fault that I
have been roused to speak so unguardedly. You have introduced a
topic on which our natures are at variance- a topic we should never
discuss: the very name of love is an apple of discord between us. If
the reality were required, what should we do? How should we feel? My
dear cousin, abandon your scheme of marriage- forget it.'