×

We use cookies to help make LingQ better. By visiting the site, you agree to our cookie policy.


image

Jane Eyre by Charlotte Brontë, CHAPTER XXVII-a

CHAPTER XXVII-a

Some time in the afternoon I raised my head, and looking round and seeing the western sun gilding the sign of its decline on the wall, I asked, “What am I to do?”

But the answer my mind gave—“Leave Thornfield at once”—was so prompt, so dread, that I stopped my ears. I said I could not bear such words now. “That I am not Edward Rochester's bride is the least part of my woe,” I alleged: “that I have wakened out of most glorious dreams, and found them all void and vain, is a horror I could bear and master; but that I must leave him decidedly, instantly, entirely, is intolerable. I cannot do it.” But, then, a voice within me averred that I could do it and foretold that I should do it. I wrestled with my own resolution: I wanted to be weak that I might avoid the awful passage of further suffering I saw laid out for me; and Conscience, turned tyrant, held Passion by the throat, told her tauntingly, she had yet but dipped her dainty foot in the slough, and swore that with that arm of iron he would thrust her down to unsounded depths of agony. “Let me be torn away,” then I cried.

“Let another help me!” “No; you shall tear yourself away, none shall help you: you shall yourself pluck out your right eye; yourself cut off your right hand: your heart shall be the victim, and you the priest to transfix it.” I rose up suddenly, terror-struck at the solitude which so ruthless a judge haunted,—at the silence which so awful a voice filled. My head swam as I stood erect. I perceived that I was sickening from excitement and inanition; neither meat nor drink had passed my lips that day, for I had taken no breakfast. And, with a strange pang, I now reflected that, long as I had been shut up here, no message had been sent to ask how I was, or to invite me to come down: not even little Adèle had tapped at the door; not even Mrs. Fairfax had sought me. “Friends always forget those whom fortune forsakes,” I murmured, as I undrew the bolt and passed out. I stumbled over an obstacle: my head was still dizzy, my sight was dim, and my limbs were feeble. I could not soon recover myself. I fell, but not on to the ground: an outstretched arm caught me. I looked up—I was supported by Mr. Rochester, who sat in a chair across my chamber threshold. “You come out at last,” he said.

“Well, I have been waiting for you long, and listening: yet not one movement have I heard, nor one sob: five minutes more of that death-like hush, and I should have forced the lock like a burglar. So you shun me?—you shut yourself up and grieve alone! I would rather you had come and upbraided me with vehemence. You are passionate. I expected a scene of some kind. I was prepared for the hot rain of tears; only I wanted them to be shed on my breast: now a senseless floor has received them, or your drenched handkerchief. But I err: you have not wept at all! I see a white cheek and a faded eye, but no trace of tears. I suppose, then, your heart has been weeping blood?” “Well, Jane!

not a word of reproach? Nothing bitter—nothing poignant? Nothing to cut a feeling or sting a passion? You sit quietly where I have placed you, and regard me with a weary, passive look.” “Jane, I never meant to wound you thus.

If the man who had but one little ewe lamb that was dear to him as a daughter, that ate of his bread and drank of his cup, and lay in his bosom, had by some mistake slaughtered it at the shambles, he would not have rued his bloody blunder more than I now rue mine. Will you ever forgive me?” Reader, I forgave him at the moment and on the spot.

There was such deep remorse in his eye, such true pity in his tone, such manly energy in his manner; and besides, there was such unchanged love in his whole look and mien—I forgave him all: yet not in words, not outwardly; only at my heart's core. “You know I am a scoundrel, Jane?” ere long he inquired wistfully—wondering, I suppose, at my continued silence and tameness, the result rather of weakness than of will. “Yes, sir.”

“Then tell me so roundly and sharply—don't spare me.” “I cannot: I am tired and sick.

I want some water.” He heaved a sort of shuddering sigh, and taking me in his arms, carried me downstairs. At first I did not know to what room he had borne me; all was cloudy to my glazed sight: presently I felt the reviving warmth of a fire; for, summer as it was, I had become icy cold in my chamber. He put wine to my lips; I tasted it and revived; then I ate something he offered me, and was soon myself. I was in the library—sitting in his chair—he was quite near. “If I could go out of life now, without too sharp a pang, it would be well for me,” I thought; “then I should not have to make the effort of cracking my heart-strings in rending them from among Mr. Rochester's. I must leave him, it appears. I do not want to leave him—I cannot leave him.” “How are you now, Jane?”

“Much better, sir; I shall be well soon.”

“Taste the wine again, Jane.”

I obeyed him; then he put the glass on the table, stood before me, and looked at me attentively.

Suddenly he turned away, with an inarticulate exclamation, full of passionate emotion of some kind; he walked fast through the room and came back; he stooped towards me as if to kiss me; but I remembered caresses were now forbidden. I turned my face away and put his aside. “What!—How is this?” he exclaimed hastily. “Oh, I know! you won't kiss the husband of Bertha Mason? You consider my arms filled and my embraces appropriated?” “At any rate, there is neither room nor claim for me, sir.” “Why, Jane?

I will spare you the trouble of much talking; I will answer for you—Because I have a wife already, you would reply.—I guess rightly?” “Yes.”

“If you think so, you must have a strange opinion of me; you must regard me as a plotting profligate—a base and low rake who has been simulating disinterested love in order to draw you into a snare deliberately laid, and strip you of honour and rob you of self-respect. What do you say to that? I see you can say nothing in the first place, you are faint still, and have enough to do to draw your breath; in the second place, you cannot yet accustom yourself to accuse and revile me, and besides, the flood-gates of tears are opened, and they would rush out if you spoke much; and you have no desire to expostulate, to upbraid, to make a scene: you are thinking how to act — talking you consider is of no use. I know you—I am on my guard.” “Sir, I do not wish to act against you,” I said; and my unsteady voice warned me to curtail my sentence. “Not in your sense of the word, but in mine you are scheming to destroy me. You have as good as said that I am a married man—as a married man you will shun me, keep out of my way: just now you have refused to kiss me. You intend to make yourself a complete stranger to me: to live under this roof only as Adèle's governess; if ever I say a friendly word to you, if ever a friendly feeling inclines you again to me, you will say,—‘That man had nearly made me his mistress: I must be ice and rock to him;' and ice and rock you will accordingly become.” I cleared and steadied my voice to reply: “All is changed about me, sir; I must change too—there is no doubt of that; and to avoid fluctuations of feeling, and continual combats with recollections and associations, there is only one way—Adèle must have a new governess, sir.” “Oh, Adèle will go to school—I have settled that already; nor do I mean to torment you with the hideous associations and recollections of Thornfield Hall—this accursed place—this tent of Achan—this insolent vault, offering the ghastliness of living death to the light of the open sky—this narrow stone hell, with its one real fiend, worse than a legion of such as we imagine. Jane, you shall not stay here, nor will I. I was wrong ever to bring you to Thornfield Hall, knowing as I did how it was haunted. I charged them to conceal from you, before I ever saw you, all knowledge of the curse of the place; merely because I feared Adèle never would have a governess to stay if she knew with what inmate she was housed, and my plans would not permit me to remove the maniac elsewhere—though I possess an old house, Ferndean Manor, even more retired and hidden than this, where I could have lodged her safely enough, had not a scruple about the unhealthiness of the situation, in the heart of a wood, made my conscience recoil from the arrangement. Probably those damp walls would soon have eased me of her charge: but to each villain his own vice; and mine is not a tendency to indirect assassination, even of what I most hate. “Concealing the mad-woman's neighbourhood from you, however, was something like covering a child with a cloak and laying it down near a upas-tree: that demon's vicinage is poisoned, and always was. But I'll shut up Thornfield Hall: I'll nail up the front door and board the lower windows: I'll give Mrs. Poole two hundred a year to live here with my wife , as you term that fearful hag: Grace will do much for money, and she shall have her son, the keeper at Grimsby Retreat, to bear her company and be at hand to give her aid in the paroxysms, when my wife is prompted by her familiar to burn people in their beds at night, to stab them, to bite their flesh from their bones, and so on—” “Sir,” I interrupted him, “you are inexorable for that unfortunate lady: you speak of her with hate—with vindictive antipathy. It is cruel—she cannot help being mad.” “Jane, my little darling (so I will call you, for so you are), you don't know what you are talking about; you misjudge me again: it is not because she is mad I hate her. If you were mad, do you think I should hate you?” “I do indeed, sir.”

“Then you are mistaken, and you know nothing about me, and nothing about the sort of love of which I am capable. Every atom of your flesh is as dear to me as my own: in pain and sickness it would still be dear. Your mind is my treasure, and if it were broken, it would be my treasure still: if you raved, my arms should confine you, and not a strait waistcoat—your grasp, even in fury, would have a charm for me: if you flew at me as wildly as that woman did this morning, I should receive you in an embrace, at least as fond as it would be restrictive. I should not shrink from you with disgust as I did from her: in your quiet moments you should have no watcher and no nurse but me; and I could hang over you with untiring tenderness, though you gave me no smile in return; and never weary of gazing into your eyes, though they had no longer a ray of recognition for me.—But why do I follow that train of ideas? I was talking of removing you from Thornfield. All, you know, is prepared for prompt departure: to-morrow you shall go. I only ask you to endure one more night under this roof, Jane; and then, farewell to its miseries and terrors for ever! I have a place to repair to, which will be a secure sanctuary from hateful reminiscences, from unwelcome intrusion—even from falsehood and slander.” “And take Adèle with you, sir,” I interrupted; “she will be a companion for you.” “What do you mean, Jane?

I told you I would send Adèle to school; and what do I want with a child for a companion, and not my own child,—a French dancer's bastard? Why do you importune me about her! I say, why do you assign Adèle to me for a companion?” “You spoke of a retirement, sir; and retirement and solitude are dull: too dull for you.” “Solitude!

solitude!” he reiterated with irritation. “I see I must come to an explanation. I don't know what sphynx-like expression is forming in your countenance. You are to share my solitude. Do you understand?” I shook my head: it required a degree of courage, excited as he was becoming, even to risk that mute sign of dissent. He had been walking fast about the room, and he stopped, as if suddenly rooted to one spot. He looked at me long and hard: I turned my eyes from him, fixed them on the fire, and tried to assume and maintain a quiet, collected aspect. “Now for the hitch in Jane's character,” he said at last, speaking more calmly than from his look I had expected him to speak. “The reel of silk has run smoothly enough so far; but I always knew there would come a knot and a puzzle: here it is. Now for vexation, and exasperation, and endless trouble! By God! I long to exert a fraction of Samson's strength, and break the entanglement like tow!” He recommenced his walk, but soon again stopped, and this time just before me.

“Jane!

will you hear reason?” (he stooped and approached his lips to my ear); “because, if you won't, I'll try violence.” His voice was hoarse; his look that of a man who is just about to burst an insufferable bond and plunge headlong into wild license. I saw that in another moment, and with one impetus of frenzy more, I should be able to do nothing with him. The present—the passing second of time—was all I had in which to control and restrain him—a movement of repulsion, flight, fear would have sealed my doom,—and his. But I was not afraid: not in the least. I felt an inward power; a sense of influence, which supported me. The crisis was perilous; but not without its charm: such as the Indian, perhaps, feels when he slips over the rapid in his canoe. I took hold of his clenched hand, loosened the contorted fingers, and said to him, soothingly— “Sit down; I'll talk to you as long as you like, and hear all you have to say, whether reasonable or unreasonable.” He sat down: but he did not get leave to speak directly.

I had been struggling with tears for some time: I had taken great pains to repress them, because I knew he would not like to see me weep. Now, however, I considered it well to let them flow as freely and as long as they liked. If the flood annoyed him, so much the better. So I gave way and cried heartily. Soon I heard him earnestly entreating me to be composed.

I said I could not while he was in such a passion. “But I am not angry, Jane: I only love you too well; and you had steeled your little pale face with such a resolute, frozen look, I could not endure it. Hush, now, and wipe your eyes.” His softened voice announced that he was subdued; so I, in my turn, became calm. Now he made an effort to rest his head on my shoulder, but I would not permit it. Then he would draw me to him: no. “Jane!

Jane!” he said, in such an accent of bitter sadness it thrilled along every nerve I had; “you don't love me, then? It was only my station, and the rank of my wife, that you valued? Now that you think me disqualified to become your husband, you recoil from my touch as if I were some toad or ape.” These words cut me: yet what could I do or I say?

I ought probably to have done or said nothing; but I was so tortured by a sense of remorse at thus hurting his feelings, I could not control the wish to drop balm where I had wounded. “I do love you,” I said, “more than ever: but I must not show or indulge the feeling: and this is the last time I must express it.” “The last time, Jane!

What! do you think you can live with me, and see me daily, and yet, if you still love me, be always cold and distant?” “No, sir; that I am certain I could not; and therefore I see there is but one way: but you will be furious if I mention it.” “Oh, mention it!

If I storm, you have the art of weeping.” “Mr.

Rochester, I must leave you.” “For how long, Jane?

For a few minutes, while you smooth your hair—which is somewhat dishevelled; and bathe your face—which looks feverish?” “I must leave Adèle and Thornfield.

I must part with you for my whole life: I must begin a new existence among strange faces and strange scenes.” “Of course: I told you you should.

I pass over the madness about parting from me. You mean you must become a part of me. As to the new existence, it is all right: you shall yet be my wife: I am not married. You shall be Mrs. Rochester—both virtually and nominally. I shall keep only to you so long as you and I live. You shall go to a place I have in the south of France: a whitewashed villa on the shores of the Mediterranean. There you shall live a happy, and guarded, and most innocent life. Never fear that I wish to lure you into error—to make you my mistress. Why did you shake your head? Jane, you must be reasonable, or in truth I shall again become frantic.” His voice and hand quivered: his large nostrils dilated; his eye blazed: still I dared to speak. “Sir, your wife is living: that is a fact acknowledged this morning by yourself. If I lived with you as you desire, I should then be your mistress: to say otherwise is sophistical—is false.” “Jane, I am not a gentle-tempered man—you forget that: I am not long-enduring; I am not cool and dispassionate. Out of pity to me and yourself, put your finger on my pulse, feel how it throbs, and—beware!” He bared his wrist, and offered it to me: the blood was forsaking his cheek and lips, they were growing livid; I was distressed on all hands. To agitate him thus deeply, by a resistance he so abhorred, was cruel: to yield was out of the question. I did what human beings do instinctively when they are driven to utter extremity—looked for aid to one higher than man: the words “God help me!” burst involuntarily from my lips. “I am a fool!” cried Mr. Rochester suddenly.

“I keep telling her I am not married, and do not explain to her why. I forget she knows nothing of the character of that woman, or of the circumstances attending my infernal union with her. Oh, I am certain Jane will agree with me in opinion, when she knows all that I know! Just put your hand in mine, Janet—that I may have the evidence of touch as well as sight, to prove you are near me—and I will in a few words show you the real state of the case. Can you listen to me?” “Yes, sir; for hours if you will.”

“I ask only minutes.

Jane, did you ever hear or know that I was not the eldest son of my house: that I had once a brother older than I?” “I remember Mrs. Fairfax told me so once.”

“And did you ever hear that my father was an avaricious, grasping man?”

“I have understood something to that effect.”

“Well, Jane, being so, it was his resolution to keep the property together; he could not bear the idea of dividing his estate and leaving me a fair portion: all, he resolved, should go to my brother, Rowland. Yet as little could he endure that a son of his should be a poor man. I must be provided for by a wealthy marriage. He sought me a partner betimes. Mr. Mason, a West India planter and merchant, was his old acquaintance. He was certain his possessions were real and vast: he made inquiries. Mr. Mason, he found, had a son and daughter; and he learned from him that he could and would give the latter a fortune of thirty thousand pounds: that sufficed. When I left college, I was sent out to Jamaica, to espouse a bride already courted for me. My father said nothing about her money; but he told me Miss Mason was the boast of Spanish Town for her beauty: and this was no lie. I found her a fine woman, in the style of Blanche Ingram: tall, dark, and majestic. Her family wished to secure me because I was of a good race; and so did she. They showed her to me in parties, splendidly dressed. I seldom saw her alone, and had very little private conversation with her. She flattered me, and lavishly displayed for my pleasure her charms and accomplishments. All the men in her circle seemed to admire her and envy me. I was dazzled, stimulated: my senses were excited; and being ignorant, raw, and inexperienced, I thought I loved her. There is no folly so besotted that the idiotic rivalries of society, the prurience, the rashness, the blindness of youth, will not hurry a man to its commission. Her relatives encouraged me; competitors piqued me; she allured me: a marriage was achieved almost before I knew where I was. Oh, I have no respect for myself when I think of that act!—an agony of inward contempt masters me. I never loved, I never esteemed, I did not even know her. I was not sure of the existence of one virtue in her nature: I had marked neither modesty, nor benevolence, nor candour, nor refinement in her mind or manners—and, I married her:—gross, grovelling, mole-eyed blockhead that I was! With less sin I might have—But let me remember to whom I am speaking.”

CHAPTER XXVII-a CAPÍTULO XXVII-a CHAPITRE XXVII-a BÖLÜM XXVII-a

Some time in the afternoon I raised my head, and looking round and seeing the western sun gilding the sign of its decline on the wall, I asked, “What am I to do?” Some time in the afternoon I raised my head, and looking round and seeing the western sun gilding the sign of its decline on the wall, I asked, “What am I to do?” Quelque temps dans l'après-midi, j'ai levé la tête, et regardant autour de moi et voyant le soleil de l'Ouest dorant le signe de son déclin sur le mur, j'ai demandé: «Que dois-je faire?

But the answer my mind gave—“Leave Thornfield at once”—was so prompt, so dread, that I stopped my ears. But the answer my mind gave—“Leave Thornfield at once”—was so prompt, so dread, that I stopped my ears. Mais la réponse que mon esprit a donnée - «Quittez Thornfield immédiatement» - était si prompte, si effrayée, que j'ai bouché mes oreilles. I said I could not bear such words now. J'ai dit que je ne pouvais plus supporter de telles paroles maintenant. “That I am not Edward Rochester’s bride is the least part of my woe,” I alleged: “that I have wakened out of most glorious dreams, and found them all void and vain, is a horror I could bear and master; but that I must leave him decidedly, instantly, entirely, is intolerable. “That I am not Edward Rochester's bride is the least part of my woe,” I alleged: “that I have wakened out of most glorious dreams, and found them all void and vain, is a horror I could bear and master; but that I must leave him decidedly, instantly, entirely, is intolerable. «Le fait que je ne sois pas l'épouse d'Edward Rochester est la moindre partie de mon malheur», ai-je allégué: «que je me suis réveillé des rêves les plus glorieux et que je les ai tous trouvés vides et vains, est une horreur que je pourrais supporter et maîtriser; mais que je doive le quitter décidément, instantanément, entièrement, est intolérable. I cannot do it.” But, then, a voice within me averred that I could do it and foretold that I should do it. But, then, a voice within me averred that I could do it and foretold that I should do it. Mais, alors, une voix en moi a affirmé que je pouvais le faire et a prédit que je devais le faire. I wrestled with my own resolution: I wanted to be weak that I might avoid the awful passage of further suffering I saw laid out for me; and Conscience, turned tyrant, held Passion by the throat, told her tauntingly, she had yet but dipped her dainty foot in the slough, and swore that with that arm of iron he would thrust her down to unsounded depths of agony. J'ai lutté avec ma propre résolution: je voulais être faible pour éviter le passage horrible de nouvelles souffrances que je voyais aménagées pour moi; et Conscience, devenue tyran, tenue Passion par la gorge, lui dit d'un air narquois, elle n'avait encore que plongé son pied délicat dans le bourbier, et jura qu'avec ce bras de fer il la pousserait dans des profondeurs d'agonie sans fondement. “Let me be torn away,” then I cried. “Let me be torn away,” then I cried. «Laissez-moi être arraché», alors j'ai pleuré.

“Let another help me!” «Laissez un autre m'aider!» “No; you shall tear yourself away, none shall help you: you shall yourself pluck out your right eye; yourself cut off your right hand: your heart shall be the victim, and you the priest to transfix it.” “No; you shall tear yourself away, none shall help you: you shall yourself pluck out your right eye; yourself cut off your right hand: your heart shall be the victim, and you the priest to transfix it.” "Non; tu t'arracheras, personne ne t'aidera: tu arracheras toi-même ton œil droit; coupe toi-même ta main droite: ton cœur sera la victime, et toi le prêtre pour la transpercer. I rose up suddenly, terror-struck at the solitude which so ruthless a judge haunted,—at the silence which so awful a voice filled. Je me suis levé tout à coup, frappé de terreur de la solitude que hantait un juge si impitoyable, - du silence qu'emplissait une si terrible voix. My head swam as I stood erect. Ma tête a nagé alors que je me tenais debout. I perceived that I was sickening from excitement and inanition; neither meat nor drink had passed my lips that day, for I had taken no breakfast. J'ai perçu que j'étais écœurant par l'excitation et l'inanition; ni viande ni boisson ne m'ont passé ce jour-là, car je n'avais pris aucun déjeuner. And, with a strange pang, I now reflected that, long as I had been shut up here, no message had been sent to ask how I was, or to invite me to come down: not even little Adèle had tapped at the door; not even Mrs. Fairfax had sought me. Et, avec une étrange douleur, je pensais maintenant que, depuis que j'étais enfermé ici, aucun message n'avait été envoyé pour me demander comment j'allais, ni pour m'inviter à descendre: même la petite Adèle n'avait pas tapé à la porte; pas même Mme Fairfax ne m'avait cherché. “Friends always forget those whom fortune forsakes,” I murmured, as I undrew the bolt and passed out. «Les amis oublient toujours ceux que la fortune abandonne», ai-je murmuré en dévissant le verrou et en m'évanouissant. I stumbled over an obstacle: my head was still dizzy, my sight was dim, and my limbs were feeble. J'ai trébuché sur un obstacle: ma tête était encore étourdie, ma vue était faible et mes membres étaient faibles. I could not soon recover myself. I fell, but not on to the ground: an outstretched arm caught me. Je suis tombé, mais pas au sol: un bras tendu m'a attrapé. I looked up—I was supported by Mr. Rochester, who sat in a chair across my chamber threshold. J'ai levé les yeux - j'étais appuyé par M. Rochester, qui était assis sur une chaise en face du seuil de ma chambre. “You come out at last,” he said.

“Well, I have been waiting for you long, and listening: yet not one movement have I heard, nor one sob: five minutes more of that death-like hush, and I should have forced the lock like a burglar. «Eh bien, je t'attends depuis longtemps et je t'écoute: pourtant pas un mouvement je n'ai entendu, ni un sanglot: cinq minutes de plus de ce silence mortel, et j'aurais dû forcer la serrure comme un cambrioleur. So you shun me?—you shut yourself up and grieve alone! Alors tu m'évites? - tu t'enferme et tu pleures seul! I would rather you had come and upbraided me with vehemence. You are passionate. I expected a scene of some kind. I was prepared for the hot rain of tears; only I wanted them to be shed on my breast: now a senseless floor has received them, or your drenched handkerchief. I was prepared for the hot rain of tears; only I wanted them to be shed on my breast: now a senseless floor has received them, or your drenched handkerchief. J'étais préparé pour la pluie chaude de larmes; seulement je voulais qu'ils soient versés sur ma poitrine: maintenant un plancher insensé les a reçus, ou votre mouchoir trempé. But I err: you have not wept at all! Mais je me trompe : vous n'avez pas pleuré du tout ! I see a white cheek and a faded eye, but no trace of tears. I suppose, then, your heart has been weeping blood?” Je suppose donc que votre cœur a pleuré du sang? “Well, Jane!

not a word of reproach? Nothing bitter—nothing poignant? Nothing to cut a feeling or sting a passion? Rien pour couper une sensation ou piquer une passion? You sit quietly where I have placed you, and regard me with a weary, passive look.” Vous vous asseyez tranquillement là où je vous ai placé, et me regardez d'un air fatigué et passif. “Jane, I never meant to wound you thus. «Jane, je n'ai jamais voulu te blesser ainsi.

If the man who had but one little ewe lamb that was dear to him as a daughter, that ate of his bread and drank of his cup, and lay in his bosom, had by some mistake slaughtered it at the shambles, he would not have rued his bloody blunder more than I now rue mine. Si l'homme qui n'avait qu'une petite brebis qui lui était chère comme fille, qui mangeait de son pain et buvait de sa coupe, et gisait dans son sein, l'avait par erreur abattue à la pagaille, il n'aurait pas plus que je ne regrette la mienne. Will you ever forgive me?” Reader, I forgave him at the moment and on the spot. Lecteur, je lui ai pardonné sur le moment et sur l'instant.

There was such deep remorse in his eye, such true pity in his tone, such manly energy in his manner; and besides, there was such unchanged love in his whole look and mien—I forgave him all: yet not in words, not outwardly; only at my heart’s core. There was such deep remorse in his eye, such true pity in his tone, such manly energy in his manner; and besides, there was such unchanged love in his whole look and mien—I forgave him all: yet not in words, not outwardly; only at my heart's core. Il y avait de si profonds remords dans ses yeux, une si vraie pitié dans son ton, une telle énergie virile dans ses manières; et de plus, il y avait un tel amour inchangé dans tout son regard et son air - je lui ai tout pardonné: mais pas en paroles, pas extérieurement; seulement au plus profond de mon cœur. “You know I am a scoundrel, Jane?” ere long he inquired wistfully—wondering, I suppose, at my continued silence and tameness, the result rather of weakness than of will. “You know I am a scoundrel, Jane?” ere long he inquired wistfully—wondering, I suppose, at my continued silence and tameness, the result rather of weakness than of will. «Tu sais que je suis un scélérat, Jane? Bientôt, il s'enquit avec nostalgie - s'étonnant, je suppose, de mon silence et de ma docilité continus, le résultat plutôt de la faiblesse que de la volonté. “Yes, sir.”

“Then tell me so roundly and sharply—don’t spare me.” «Alors dis-moi si franchement et clairement - ne m'épargne pas. “I cannot: I am tired and sick.

I want some water.”  He heaved a sort of shuddering sigh, and taking me in his arms, carried me downstairs. I want some water.” He heaved a sort of shuddering sigh, and taking me in his arms, carried me downstairs. Je veux de l'eau." Il poussa une sorte de soupir frissonnant, et me prenant dans ses bras, me porta en bas. At first I did not know to what room he had borne me; all was cloudy to my glazed sight: presently I felt the reviving warmth of a fire; for, summer as it was, I had become icy cold in my chamber. At first I did not know to what room he had borne me; all was cloudy to my glazed sight: presently I felt the reviving warmth of a fire; for, summer as it was, I had become icy cold in my chamber. Au début, je ne savais pas dans quelle chambre il m'avait conduit; tout était trouble à ma vue vitrée: je sentis bientôt la chaleur raviver d'un feu; car, l'été comme il l'était, j'étais devenu glacial dans ma chambre. He put wine to my lips; I tasted it and revived; then I ate something he offered me, and was soon myself. Il a mis du vin à mes lèvres; Je l'ai goûté et ressuscité; puis j'ai mangé quelque chose qu'il m'offrait, et j'étais bientôt moi-même. I was in the library—sitting in his chair—he was quite near. “If I could go out of life now, without too sharp a pang, it would be well for me,” I thought; “then I should not have to make the effort of cracking my heart-strings in rending them from among Mr. Rochester’s. «Si je pouvais sortir de la vie maintenant, sans une douleur trop vive, ce serait bien pour moi», ai-je pensé; «Alors je ne devrais pas avoir à faire l'effort de casser les cordes de mon cœur en les arrachant de chez M. Rochester. I must leave him, it appears. I do not want to leave him—I cannot leave him.” Je ne veux pas le quitter, je ne peux pas le quitter". “How are you now, Jane?”

“Much better, sir; I shall be well soon.”

“Taste the wine again, Jane.”

I obeyed him; then he put the glass on the table, stood before me, and looked at me attentively.

Suddenly he turned away, with an inarticulate exclamation, full of passionate emotion of some kind; he walked fast through the room and came back; he stooped towards me as if to kiss me; but I remembered caresses were now forbidden. Soudain, il se détourna, avec une exclamation inarticulée, pleine d'émotion passionnée de quelque sorte; il traversa rapidement la pièce et revint; il se pencha vers moi comme pour m'embrasser; mais je me suis souvenu que les caresses étaient désormais interdites. I turned my face away and put his aside. J'ai détourné mon visage et mis le sien de côté. “What!—How is this?” he exclaimed hastily. “Oh, I know! you won’t kiss the husband of Bertha Mason? You consider my arms filled and my embraces appropriated?” Vous considérez que mes bras sont remplis et que mes étreintes sont appropriées ?" “At any rate, there is neither room nor claim for me, sir.” «En tout cas, il n'y a ni place ni réclamation pour moi, monsieur. “Why, Jane?

I will spare you the trouble of much talking; I will answer for you—Because I have a wife already, you would reply.—I guess rightly?” Je vous épargnerai la peine de beaucoup parler; Je répondrai pour vous - Parce que j'ai déjà une femme, répondriez-vous. - Je suppose que c'est juste? “Yes.”

“If you think so, you must have a strange opinion of me; you must regard me as a plotting profligate—a base and low rake who has been simulating disinterested love in order to draw you into a snare deliberately laid, and strip you of honour and rob you of self-respect. «Si vous pensez ainsi, vous devez avoir une étrange opinion de moi; vous devez me considérer comme un complot débauché - un râteau bas et bas qui a simulé un amour désintéressé pour vous attirer dans un piège délibérément tendu, vous dépouiller de l'honneur et vous priver du respect de vous-même. What do you say to that? I see you can say nothing in the first place, you are faint still, and have enough to do to draw your breath; in the second place, you cannot yet accustom yourself to accuse and revile me, and besides, the flood-gates of tears are opened, and they would rush out if you spoke much; and you have no desire to expostulate, to upbraid, to make a scene: you are thinking how to act — talking you consider is of no use. Je vois que vous ne pouvez rien dire en premier lieu, vous êtes encore faible et avez assez à faire pour reprendre votre souffle; en second lieu, vous ne pouvez pas encore vous accoutumer à m'accuser et à m'insulter, et d'ailleurs les vannes des larmes s'ouvrent, et elles se précipiteraient si vous parliez beaucoup; et vous n'avez aucune envie d'exposer, de reprocher, de faire une scène: vous pensez comment agir - parler que vous considérez ne sert à rien. I know you—I am on my guard.” Je vous connais, je suis sur mes gardes." “Sir, I do not wish to act against you,” I said; and my unsteady voice warned me to curtail my sentence. «Monsieur, je ne veux pas agir contre vous», dis-je; et ma voix instable m'a averti de raccourcir ma peine. “Not in your sense of the word, but in mine you are scheming to destroy me. «Pas dans votre sens du mot, mais dans le mien, vous envisagez de me détruire. You have as good as said that I am a married man—as a married man you will shun me, keep out of my way: just now you have refused to kiss me. Vous avez aussi bien dit que je suis un homme marié - en tant qu'homme marié, vous m'éviterez, restez à l'écart de mon chemin: vous avez refusé de m'embrasser. You intend to make yourself a complete stranger to me: to live under this roof only as Adèle’s governess; if ever I say a friendly word to you, if ever a friendly feeling inclines you again to me, you will say,—‘That man had nearly made me his mistress: I must be ice and rock to him;' and ice and rock you will accordingly become.” You intend to make yourself a complete stranger to me: to live under this roof only as Adèle's governess; if ever I say a friendly word to you, if ever a friendly feeling inclines you again to me, you will say,—‘That man had nearly made me his mistress: I must be ice and rock to him;' and ice and rock you will accordingly become.” Vous entendez me faire un parfait étranger: n'habiter sous ce toit que comme gouvernante d'Adèle; si jamais je vous dis un mot d'amitié, si jamais un sentiment d'amitié vous incline de nouveau vers moi, vous direz: «Cet homme avait failli faire de moi sa maîtresse: je dois être pour lui de la glace et de la roche; et vous deviendrez de la glace et de la pierre. I cleared and steadied my voice to reply: “All is changed about me, sir; I must change too—there is no doubt of that; and to avoid fluctuations of feeling, and continual combats with recollections and associations, there is only one way—Adèle must have a new governess, sir.” I cleared and steadied my voice to reply: “All is changed about me, sir; I must change too—there is no doubt of that; and to avoid fluctuations of feeling, and continual combats with recollections and associations, there is only one way—Adèle must have a new governess, sir.” J'éclaircis et stabilisai ma voix pour répondre: «Tout est changé pour moi, monsieur; Je dois changer aussi - cela ne fait aucun doute; et pour éviter les fluctuations de sentiment, et les combats continus avec les souvenirs et les associations, il n'y a qu'un seul moyen: Adèle doit avoir une nouvelle gouvernante, monsieur. “Oh, Adèle will go to school—I have settled that already; nor do I mean to torment you with the hideous associations and recollections of Thornfield Hall—this accursed place—this tent of Achan—this insolent vault, offering the ghastliness of living death to the light of the open sky—this narrow stone hell, with its one real fiend, worse than a legion of such as we imagine. «Oh, Adèle ira à l'école - je l'ai déjà réglé; je ne veux pas non plus vous tourmenter avec les associations et les souvenirs hideux de Thornfield Hall - cet endroit maudit - cette tente d'Achan - cette voûte insolente, offrant à la lumière du ciel l'étroitesse de la mort vivante - cet enfer de pierre étroit, avec c'est un vrai démon, pire qu'une légion de ce que nous imaginons. Jane, you shall not stay here, nor will I.  I was wrong ever to bring you to Thornfield Hall, knowing as I did how it was haunted. Jane, tu ne resteras pas ici, ni moi non plus. J'ai eu tort de t'amener à Thornfield Hall, sachant comme je l'ai fait à quel point il était hanté. I charged them to conceal from you, before I ever saw you, all knowledge of the curse of the place; merely because I feared Adèle never would have a governess to stay if she knew with what inmate she was housed, and my plans would not permit me to remove the maniac elsewhere—though I possess an old house, Ferndean Manor, even more retired and hidden than this, where I could have lodged her safely enough, had not a scruple about the unhealthiness of the situation, in the heart of a wood, made my conscience recoil from the arrangement. Je les ai chargés de vous cacher, avant de vous voir, toute connaissance de la malédiction du lieu; simplement parce que je craignais qu'Adèle n'ait jamais une gouvernante pour rester si elle savait avec quel détenu elle était logée, et mes plans ne me permettraient pas de déplacer le maniaque ailleurs - bien que je possède une vieille maison, Ferndean Manor, encore plus retraitée et cachée que celui-ci, où j'aurais pu la loger assez sereinement, n'avait pas un scrupule sur l'insalubrité de la situation, au cœur d'un bois, ne faisait reculer ma conscience devant l'arrangement. Probably those damp walls would soon have eased me of her charge: but to each villain his own vice; and mine is not a tendency to indirect assassination, even of what I most hate. Probably those damp walls would soon have eased me of her charge: but to each villain his own vice; and mine is not a tendency to indirect assassination, even of what I most hate. Probablement ces murs humides m'auraient bientôt soulagé de sa charge: mais à chaque méchant son propre vice; et la mienne n'est pas une tendance à l'assassinat indirect, même de ce que je déteste le plus. “Concealing the mad-woman’s neighbourhood from you, however, was something like covering a child with a cloak and laying it down near a upas-tree: that demon’s vicinage is poisoned, and always was. “Concealing the mad-woman's neighbourhood from you, however, was something like covering a child with a cloak and laying it down near a upas-tree: that demon's vicinage is poisoned, and always was. «Te cacher le quartier de la femme folle, cependant, c'était quelque chose comme couvrir un enfant d'un manteau et le déposer près d'un arbre: le vicinage de ce démon est empoisonné, et l'a toujours été. But I’ll shut up Thornfield Hall: I’ll nail up the front door and board the lower windows: I’ll give Mrs. Poole two hundred a year to live here with my wife , as you term that fearful hag: Grace will do much for money, and she shall have her son, the keeper at Grimsby Retreat, to bear her company and be at hand to give her aid in the paroxysms, when my wife is prompted by her familiar to burn people in their beds at night, to stab them, to bite their flesh from their bones, and so on—” Mais je ferai taire Thornfield Hall: je clouerai la porte d'entrée et monterai aux fenêtres inférieures: je donnerai à Mme Poole deux cents par an pour vivre ici avec ma femme, comme vous l'appelez cette horrible sorcière: Grace va faire beaucoup pour de l'argent, et elle aura son fils, le gardien de Grimsby Retreat, pour lui tenir compagnie et être à portée de main pour l'aider dans les paroxysmes, lorsque ma femme est incitée par son familier à brûler des gens dans leurs lits la nuit , pour les poignarder, mordre leur chair à partir de leurs os, etc. “Sir,” I interrupted him, “you are inexorable for that unfortunate lady: you speak of her with hate—with vindictive antipathy. “Sir,” I interrupted him, “you are inexorable for that unfortunate lady: you speak of her with hate—with vindictive antipathy. It is cruel—she cannot help being mad.” “Jane, my little darling (so I will call you, for so you are), you don’t know what you are talking about; you misjudge me again: it is not because she is mad I hate her. “Jane, my little darling (so I will call you, for so you are), you don't know what you are talking about; you misjudge me again: it is not because she is mad I hate her. «Jane, ma petite chérie (donc je vais t'appeler, car tu es ainsi), tu ne sais pas de quoi tu parles; vous me méprisez encore: ce n'est pas parce qu'elle est folle que je la déteste. If you were mad, do you think I should hate you?” “I do indeed, sir.” "En effet, monsieur".

“Then you are mistaken, and you know nothing about me, and nothing about the sort of love of which I am capable. “Then you are mistaken, and you know nothing about me, and nothing about the sort of love of which I am capable. Every atom of your flesh is as dear to me as my own: in pain and sickness it would still be dear. Every atom of your flesh is as dear to me as my own: in pain and sickness it would still be dear. Chaque atome de votre chair m'est aussi cher que le mien: dans la douleur et la maladie, il serait encore cher. Your mind is my treasure, and if it were broken, it would be my treasure still: if you raved, my arms should confine you, and not a strait waistcoat—your grasp, even in fury, would have a charm for me: if you flew at me as wildly as that woman did this morning, I should receive you in an embrace, at least as fond as it would be restrictive. Your mind is my treasure, and if it were broken, it would be my treasure still: if you raved, my arms should confine you, and not a strait waistcoat—your grasp, even in fury, would have a charm for me: if you flew at me as wildly as that woman did this morning, I should receive you in an embrace, at least as fond as it would be restrictive. Votre esprit est mon trésor, et s'il était brisé, ce serait encore mon trésor: si vous déliriez, mes bras vous enfermeraient, et non un gilet étroit - votre étreinte, même en furie, aurait un charme pour moi: si tu m'as volé aussi sauvagement que cette femme ce matin, je devrais te recevoir dans une étreinte, au moins aussi affectueuse que restrictive. I should not shrink from you with disgust as I did from her: in your quiet moments you should have no watcher and no nurse but me; and I could hang over you with untiring tenderness, though you gave me no smile in return; and never weary of gazing into your eyes, though they had no longer a ray of recognition for me.—But why do I follow that train of ideas? I should not shrink from you with disgust as I did from her: in your quiet moments you should have no watcher and no nurse but me; and I could hang over you with untiring tenderness, though you gave me no smile in return; and never weary of gazing into your eyes, though they had no longer a ray of recognition for me.—But why do I follow that train of ideas? Je ne devrais pas reculer devant vous avec dégoût comme je l'ai fait avec elle: dans vos moments de calme, vous ne devriez avoir ni veilleur ni infirmière que moi; et je pourrais pendre sur vous avec une tendresse infatigable, quoique vous ne me fassiez aucun sourire en retour; et ne jamais se lasser de te regarder dans les yeux, bien qu'ils n'aient plus de rayon de reconnaissance pour moi. - Mais pourquoi suis-je dans ce train d'idées? I was talking of removing you from Thornfield. All, you know, is prepared for prompt departure: to-morrow you shall go. I only ask you to endure one more night under this roof, Jane; and then, farewell to its miseries and terrors for ever! I have a place to repair to, which will be a secure sanctuary from hateful reminiscences, from unwelcome intrusion—even from falsehood and slander.” J'ai un endroit où me rendre, qui sera un refuge sûr contre les réminiscences haineuses, contre les intrusions indésirables - même contre le mensonge et la calomnie. " “And take Adèle with you, sir,” I interrupted; “she will be a companion for you.” “What do you mean, Jane?

I told you I would send Adèle to school; and what do I want with a child for a companion, and not my own child,—a French dancer’s bastard? Je vous ai dit que j'enverrais Adèle à l'école; et qu'est-ce que je veux d'un enfant pour compagnon, et non mon propre enfant, bâtard de danseur français? Why do you importune me about her! I say, why do you assign Adèle to me for a companion?” Je dis, pourquoi m'attribuez-vous Adèle pour compagnon? “You spoke of a retirement, sir; and retirement and solitude are dull: too dull for you.” «Vous avez parlé d'une retraite, monsieur; et la retraite et la solitude sont ennuyeuses: trop ennuyeuses pour vous. “Solitude!

solitude!” he reiterated with irritation. “I see I must come to an explanation. I don’t know what sphynx-like expression is forming in your countenance. Je ne sais pas quelle expression de sphynx se forme dans votre visage. You are to share my solitude. Vous devez partager ma solitude. Do you understand?” I shook my head: it required a degree of courage, excited as he was becoming, even to risk that mute sign of dissent. Je secouai la tête: il fallait du courage, excité comme il le devenait, même pour risquer ce signe muet de dissidence. He had been walking fast about the room, and he stopped, as if suddenly rooted to one spot. Il avait marché rapidement dans la pièce et il s'arrêta, comme s'il était soudainement enraciné à un endroit. He looked at me long and hard: I turned my eyes from him, fixed them on the fire, and tried to assume and maintain a quiet, collected aspect. Il me regarda longuement et durement: je détournai les yeux de lui, les fixai sur le feu, et essayai de prendre et de maintenir un aspect calme et recueilli. “Now for the hitch in Jane’s character,” he said at last, speaking more calmly than from his look I had expected him to speak. «Maintenant pour le problème dans le personnage de Jane,» dit-il enfin, parlant plus calmement que d'après son regard je m'attendais à ce qu'il parle. “The reel of silk has run smoothly enough so far; but I always knew there would come a knot and a puzzle: here it is. «La bobine de soie s'est assez bien déroulée jusqu'à présent; mais j'ai toujours su qu'il y aurait un nœud et un puzzle: le voici. Now for vexation, and exasperation, and endless trouble! Maintenant pour la vexation, l'exaspération et les ennuis sans fin! By God! I long to exert a fraction of Samson’s strength, and break the entanglement like tow!” J'ai hâte d'exercer une fraction de la force de Samson et de briser l'enchevêtrement comme une corde! He recommenced his walk, but soon again stopped, and this time just before me.

“Jane!

will you hear reason?” (he stooped and approached his lips to my ear); “because, if you won’t, I’ll try violence.”  His voice was hoarse; his look that of a man who is just about to burst an insufferable bond and plunge headlong into wild license. entendrez-vous la raison? (il se baissa et approcha ses lèvres de mon oreille); «Parce que, si vous ne le faites pas, j'essaierai la violence.» Sa voix était rauque; son regard celui d'un homme qui est sur le point de rompre un lien insupportable et de plonger tête baissée dans la licence sauvage. I saw that in another moment, and with one impetus of frenzy more, I should be able to do nothing with him. I saw that in another moment, and with one impetus of frenzy more, I should be able to do nothing with him. J'ai vu que dans un autre moment, et avec un élan de frénésie de plus, je ne devrais pouvoir rien faire avec lui. The present—the passing second of time—was all I had in which to control and restrain him—a movement of repulsion, flight, fear would have sealed my doom,—and his. The present—the passing second of time—was all I had in which to control and restrain him—a movement of repulsion, flight, fear would have sealed my doom,—and his. Le présent - la seconde qui passait - était tout ce que j'avais pour le contrôler et le retenir - un mouvement de répulsion, de fuite, de peur aurait scellé mon destin, - et le sien. But I was not afraid: not in the least. I felt an inward power; a sense of influence, which supported me. J'ai ressenti une puissance intérieure; un sentiment d'influence, qui m'a soutenu. The crisis was perilous; but not without its charm: such as the Indian, perhaps, feels when he slips over the rapid in his canoe. The crisis was perilous; but not without its charm: such as the Indian, perhaps, feels when he slips over the rapid in his canoe. La crise était périlleuse; mais non sans son charme: comme celui que ressent peut-être l'Indien quand il glisse sur le rapide dans sa pirogue. I took hold of his clenched hand, loosened the contorted fingers, and said to him, soothingly— Je saisis sa main serrée, relâchai les doigts tordus et lui dis avec douceur: “Sit down; I’ll talk to you as long as you like, and hear all you have to say, whether reasonable or unreasonable.” “Sit down; I'll talk to you as long as you like, and hear all you have to say, whether reasonable or unreasonable.” "Asseyez-vous ; je vous parlerai aussi longtemps que vous le voudrez et j'écouterai tout ce que vous avez à dire, que ce soit raisonnable ou déraisonnable. He sat down: but he did not get leave to speak directly. He sat down: but he did not get leave to speak directly. Il s'assit: mais il ne fut pas autorisé à parler directement.

I had been struggling with tears for some time: I had taken great pains to repress them, because I knew he would not like to see me weep. I had been struggling with tears for some time: I had taken great pains to repress them, because I knew he would not like to see me weep. Cela faisait un certain temps que je luttais contre les larmes : Je m'étais donné beaucoup de mal pour les refouler, car je savais qu'il n'aimerait pas me voir pleurer. Now, however, I considered it well to let them flow as freely and as long as they liked. Aujourd'hui, cependant, je considère qu'il est bon de les laisser s'exprimer aussi librement et aussi longtemps qu'ils le souhaitent. If the flood annoyed him, so much the better. Si l'inondation l'ennuie, tant mieux. So I gave way and cried heartily. J'ai donc cédé et j'ai pleuré de tout mon cœur. Soon I heard him earnestly entreating me to be composed. Bientôt, je l'entendis me suppliant sincèrement d'être calme.

I said I could not while he was in such a passion. J'ai dit que je ne pouvais pas tant qu'il était dans une telle passion. “But I am not angry, Jane: I only love you too well; and you had steeled your little pale face with such a resolute, frozen look, I could not endure it. «Mais je ne suis pas en colère, Jane: je ne t'aime que trop bien; et tu avais armé ton petit visage pâle d'un regard si résolu et figé que je ne pouvais pas le supporter. Hush, now, and wipe your eyes.” Chut, maintenant, et essuie-toi les yeux. His softened voice announced that he was subdued; so I, in my turn, became calm. Sa voix adoucie annonçait qu'il était maîtrisé; alors moi, à mon tour, je me suis calmé. Now he made an effort to rest his head on my shoulder, but I would not permit it. Il s'efforça alors de poser sa tête sur mon épaule, mais je ne le lui permis pas. Then he would draw me to him: no. Puis il m'attirerait à lui : non. “Jane!

Jane!” he said, in such an accent of bitter sadness it thrilled along every nerve I had; “you don’t love me, then? Jeanne!" dit-il, avec un tel accent de tristesse amère, il vibrait le long de chaque nerf que j'avais; «Tu ne m'aimes pas, alors? It was only my station, and the rank of my wife, that you valued? Ce n'était que mon rang et le rang de ma femme que vous appréciiez? Now that you think me disqualified to become your husband, you recoil from my touch as if I were some toad or ape.” Maintenant que vous pensez que je suis disqualifié pour devenir votre mari, vous reculez devant mon contact comme si j'étais un crapaud ou un singe. These words cut me: yet what could I do or I say? Ces mots me coupent: mais que puis-je faire ou dire?

I ought probably to have done or said nothing; but I was so tortured by a sense of remorse at thus hurting his feelings, I could not control the wish to drop balm where I had wounded. J'aurais probablement dû ne rien faire ou rien dire; mais j'étais tellement torturé par un sentiment de remords de blesser ainsi ses sentiments, je ne pouvais contrôler le désir de déposer du baume là où j'avais blessé. “I do love you,” I said, “more than ever: but I must not show or indulge the feeling: and this is the last time I must express it.” «Je t'aime, dis-je, plus que jamais: mais je ne dois ni montrer ni me livrer à ce sentiment: et c'est la dernière fois que je dois l'exprimer. “The last time, Jane!

What! do you think you can live with me, and see me daily, and yet, if you still love me, be always cold and distant?” “No, sir; that I am certain I could not; and therefore I see there is but one way: but you will be furious if I mention it.” “Oh, mention it!

If I storm, you have the art of weeping.” Si je prends la tempête, tu as l'art de pleurer. “Mr.

Rochester, I must leave you.” “For how long, Jane?

For a few minutes, while you smooth your hair—which is somewhat dishevelled; and bathe your face—which looks feverish?” Pendant quelques minutes, pendant que vous lissez vos cheveux - qui sont un peu ébouriffés; et baigne ton visage - qui a l'air fiévreux? “I must leave Adèle and Thornfield.

I must part with you for my whole life: I must begin a new existence among strange faces and strange scenes.” “Of course: I told you you should. "Bien sûr : Je vous l'avais bien dit.

I pass over the madness about parting from me. Je passe sur la folie de me séparer. You mean you must become a part of me. Vous voulez dire que vous devez devenir une partie de moi. As to the new existence, it is all right: you shall yet be my wife: I am not married. Quant à la nouvelle existence, tout va bien : tu seras encore ma femme : Je ne suis pas marié. You shall be Mrs. Rochester—both virtually and nominally. Vous serez Mme Rochester - à la fois virtuellement et nominalement. I shall keep only to you so long as you and I live. Je ne resterai que pour vous tant que vous et moi vivrons. You shall go to a place I have in the south of France: a whitewashed villa on the shores of the Mediterranean. There you shall live a happy, and guarded, and most innocent life. Never fear that I wish to lure you into error—to make you my mistress. Ne craignez jamais que je veuille vous attirer dans l'erreur, faire de vous ma maîtresse. Why did you shake your head? Jane, you must be reasonable, or in truth I shall again become frantic.” His voice and hand quivered: his large nostrils dilated; his eye blazed: still I dared to speak. Sa voix et sa main tremblaient: ses grandes narines se dilataient; son œil flamboyait: j'osais encore parler. “Sir, your wife is living: that is a fact acknowledged this morning by yourself. If I lived with you as you desire, I should then be your mistress: to say otherwise is sophistical—is false.” Si je vivais avec vous comme vous le souhaitez, je serais alors votre maîtresse : dire le contraire est sophistique, c'est faux." “Jane, I am not a gentle-tempered man—you forget that: I am not long-enduring; I am not cool and dispassionate. «Jane, je ne suis pas un homme doux, vous oubliez cela: je ne persévère pas longtemps; Je ne suis pas cool et impartial. Out of pity to me and yourself, put your finger on my pulse, feel how it throbs, and—beware!” Par pitié pour moi et pour vous-même, mettez votre doigt sur mon pouls, sentez comment il palpite, et - attention! He bared his wrist, and offered it to me: the blood was forsaking his cheek and lips, they were growing livid; I was distressed on all hands. Il découvrit son poignet et me le proposa: le sang abandonnait sa joue et ses lèvres, elles devenaient livides; J'étais en détresse de toutes parts. To agitate him thus deeply, by a resistance he so abhorred, was cruel: to yield was out of the question. L'agiter ainsi profondément, par une résistance qu'il abhorrait tant, était cruel: il était hors de question de céder. I did what human beings do instinctively when they are driven to utter extremity—looked for aid to one higher than man: the words “God help me!” burst involuntarily from my lips. J'ai fait ce que les êtres humains font instinctivement quand ils sont poussés à l'extrême extrême - j'ai cherché de l'aide à quelqu'un de plus haut que l'homme: les mots «Que Dieu m'aide!» jaillit involontairement de mes lèvres. “I am a fool!” cried Mr. Rochester suddenly.

“I keep telling her I am not married, and do not explain to her why. "Je lui répète que je ne suis pas marié et je ne lui explique pas pourquoi. I forget she knows nothing of the character of that woman, or of the circumstances attending my infernal union with her. J'oublie qu'elle ne sait rien du caractère de cette femme, ni des circonstances de mon union infernale avec elle. Oh, I am certain Jane will agree with me in opinion, when she knows all that I know! Just put your hand in mine, Janet—that I may have the evidence of touch as well as sight, to prove you are near me—and I will in a few words show you the real state of the case. Mettez simplement votre main dans la mienne, Janet - afin que je puisse avoir la preuve du toucher autant que de la vue, pour prouver que vous êtes près de moi - et je vais en quelques mots vous montrer l'état réel de l'affaire. Can you listen to me?” “Yes, sir; for hours if you will.”

“I ask only minutes.

Jane, did you ever hear or know that I was not the eldest son of my house: that I had once a brother older than I?” “I remember Mrs. Fairfax told me so once.”

“And did you ever hear that my father was an avaricious, grasping man?” «Et avez-vous déjà entendu que mon père était un homme avare et avare?

“I have understood something to that effect.” «J'ai compris quelque chose à cet effet.»

“Well, Jane, being so, it was his resolution to keep the property together; he could not bear the idea of dividing his estate and leaving me a fair portion: all, he resolved, should go to my brother, Rowland. «Eh bien, Jane, étant ainsi, c'était sa résolution de garder la propriété ensemble; il ne supportait pas l'idée de partager sa succession et de me laisser une part équitable: tout, résolut-il, devait aller à mon frère Rowland. Yet as little could he endure that a son of his should be a poor man. Pourtant, aussi peu pouvait-il supporter qu'un de ses fils soit un pauvre. I must be provided for by a wealthy marriage. Je dois être pourvu par un mariage riche. He sought me a partner betimes. Il m'a cherché un partenaire par moments. Mr. Mason, a West India planter and merchant, was his old acquaintance. M. Mason, un planteur et marchand de l'Inde occidentale, était sa vieille connaissance. He was certain his possessions were real and vast: he made inquiries. Mr. Mason, he found, had a son and daughter; and he learned from him that he could and would give the latter a fortune of thirty thousand pounds: that sufficed. Il découvrit que M. Mason avait un fils et une fille, et il apprit de lui qu'il pouvait et voulait donner à cette dernière une fortune de trente mille livres : cela suffisait. When I left college, I was sent out to Jamaica, to espouse a bride already courted for me. Quand j'ai quitté l'université, j'ai été envoyée en Jamaïque pour épouser une épouse déjà courtisée pour moi. My father said nothing about her money; but he told me Miss Mason was the boast of Spanish Town for her beauty: and this was no lie. Mon père n'a rien dit de son argent; mais il m'a dit que Miss Mason était la vantardise de Spanish Town pour sa beauté: et ce n'était pas un mensonge. I found her a fine woman, in the style of Blanche Ingram: tall, dark, and majestic. Her family wished to secure me because I was of a good race; and so did she. Sa famille a voulu me sécuriser parce que j'étais d'une bonne race; et elle aussi. They showed her to me in parties, splendidly dressed. Ils me l'ont montrée dans des soirées, magnifiquement habillée. I seldom saw her alone, and had very little private conversation with her. She flattered me, and lavishly displayed for my pleasure her charms and accomplishments. Elle m'a flatté et a généreusement déployé pour mon plaisir ses charmes et ses réalisations. All the men in her circle seemed to admire her and envy me. I was dazzled, stimulated: my senses were excited; and being ignorant, raw, and inexperienced, I thought I loved her. J'étais ébloui, stimulé: mes sens étaient excités; et étant ignorante, brute et inexpérimentée, je pensais que je l'aimais. There is no folly so besotted that the idiotic rivalries of society, the prurience, the rashness, the blindness of youth, will not hurry a man to its commission. Il n'y a pas de folie si assommée que les rivalités idiotes de la société, la pruriance, la témérité, l'aveuglement de la jeunesse, ne précipiteront pas un homme à sa commission. Her relatives encouraged me; competitors piqued me; she allured me: a marriage was achieved almost before I knew where I was. Ses proches m'ont encouragé; les concurrents m'ont piqué; elle m'a séduit: un mariage a été conclu presque avant que je sache où j'étais. Oh, I have no respect for myself when I think of that act!—an agony of inward contempt masters me. Oh! Je n'ai aucun respect pour moi-même quand je pense à cet acte! - une agonie de mépris intérieur me domine. I never loved, I never esteemed, I did not even know her. Je n'ai jamais aimé, je n'ai jamais estimé, je ne la connaissais même pas. I was not sure of the existence of one virtue in her nature: I had marked neither modesty, nor benevolence, nor candour, nor refinement in her mind or manners—and, I married her:—gross, grovelling, mole-eyed blockhead that I was! Je n'étais pas sûr de l'existence d'une seule vertu dans sa nature: je n'avais marqué ni modestie, ni bienveillance, ni candeur, ni raffinement dans son esprit ou dans ses manières - et je l'ai épousée: J'ai été! With less sin I might have—But let me remember to whom I am speaking.” Avec moins de péché que je pourrais avoir - Mais laissez-moi me souvenir à qui je parle.