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Jane Eyre by Charlotte Brontë, CHAPTER XXVIII-a

CHAPTER XXVIII-a

Two days are passed.

It is a summer evening; the coachman has set me down at a place called Whitcross; he could take me no farther for the sum I had given, and I was not possessed of another shilling in the world. The coach is a mile off by this time; I am alone. At this moment I discover that I forgot to take my parcel out of the pocket of the coach, where I had placed it for safety; there it remains, there it must remain; and now, I am absolutely destitute. Whitcross is no town, nor even a hamlet; it is but a stone pillar set up where four roads meet: whitewashed, I suppose, to be more obvious at a distance and in darkness. Four arms spring from its summit: the nearest town to which these point is, according to the inscription, distant ten miles; the farthest, above twenty. From the well-known names of these towns I learn in what county I have lighted; a north-midland shire, dusk with moorland, ridged with mountain: this I see. There are great moors behind and on each hand of me; there are waves of mountains far beyond that deep valley at my feet. The population here must be thin, and I see no passengers on these roads: they stretch out east, west, north, and south—white, broad, lonely; they are all cut in the moor, and the heather grows deep and wild to their very verge. Yet a chance traveller might pass by; and I wish no eye to see me now: strangers would wonder what I am doing, lingering here at the sign-post, evidently objectless and lost. I might be questioned: I could give no answer but what would sound incredible and excite suspicion. Not a tie holds me to human society at this moment—not a charm or hope calls me where my fellow-creatures are—none that saw me would have a kind thought or a good wish for me. I have no relative but the universal mother, Nature: I will seek her breast and ask repose. I struck straight into the heath; I held on to a hollow I saw deeply furrowing the brown moorside; I waded knee-deep in its dark growth; I turned with its turnings, and finding a moss-blackened granite crag in a hidden angle, I sat down under it. High banks of moor were about me; the crag protected my head: the sky was over that. Some time passed before I felt tranquil even here: I had a vague dread that wild cattle might be near, or that some sportsman or poacher might discover me. If a gust of wind swept the waste, I looked up, fearing it was the rush of a bull; if a plover whistled, I imagined it a man. Finding my apprehensions unfounded, however, and calmed by the deep silence that reigned as evening declined at nightfall, I took confidence. As yet I had not thought; I had only listened, watched, dreaded; now I regained the faculty of reflection. What was I to do?

Where to go? Oh, intolerable questions, when I could do nothing and go nowhere!—when a long way must yet be measured by my weary, trembling limbs before I could reach human habitation—when cold charity must be entreated before I could get a lodging: reluctant sympathy importuned, almost certain repulse incurred, before my tale could be listened to, or one of my wants relieved! I touched the heath: it was dry, and yet warm with the heat of the summer day.

I looked at the sky; it was pure: a kindly star twinkled just above the chasm ridge. The dew fell, but with propitious softness; no breeze whispered. Nature seemed to me benign and good; I thought she loved me, outcast as I was; and I, who from man could anticipate only mistrust, rejection, insult, clung to her with filial fondness. To-night, at least, I would be her guest, as I was her child: my mother would lodge me without money and without price. I had one morsel of bread yet: the remnant of a roll I had bought in a town we passed through at noon with a stray penny—my last coin. I saw ripe bilberries gleaming here and there, like jet beads in the heath: I gathered a handful and ate them with the bread. My hunger, sharp before, was, if not satisfied, appeased by this hermit's meal. I said my evening prayers at its conclusion, and then chose my couch. Beside the crag the heath was very deep: when I lay down my feet were buried in it; rising high on each side, it left only a narrow space for the night-air to invade. I folded my shawl double, and spread it over me for a coverlet; a low, mossy swell was my pillow. Thus lodged, I was not, at least—at the commencement of the night, cold. My rest might have been blissful enough, only a sad heart broke it. It plained of its gaping wounds, its inward bleeding, its riven chords. It trembled for Mr. Rochester and his doom; it bemoaned him with bitter pity; it demanded him with ceaseless longing; and, impotent as a bird with both wings broken, it still quivered its shattered pinions in vain attempts to seek him. Worn out with this torture of thought, I rose to my knees. Night was come, and her planets were risen: a safe, still night: too serene for the companionship of fear. We know that God is everywhere; but certainly we feel His presence most when His works are on the grandest scale spread before us; and it is in the unclouded night-sky, where His worlds wheel their silent course, that we read clearest His infinitude, His omnipotence, His omnipresence. I had risen to my knees to pray for Mr. Rochester. Looking up, I, with tear-dimmed eyes, saw the mighty Milky-way. Remembering what it was—what countless systems there swept space like a soft trace of light—I felt the might and strength of God. Sure was I of His efficiency to save what He had made: convinced I grew that neither earth should perish, nor one of the souls it treasured. I turned my prayer to thanksgiving: the Source of Life was also the Saviour of spirits. Mr. Rochester was safe; he was God's, and by God would he be guarded. I again nestled to the breast of the hill; and ere long in sleep forgot sorrow. But next day, Want came to me pale and bare.

Long after the little birds had left their nests; long after bees had come in the sweet prime of day to gather the heath honey before the dew was dried—when the long morning shadows were curtailed, and the sun filled earth and sky—I got up, and I looked round me. What a still, hot, perfect day!

What a golden desert this spreading moor! Everywhere sunshine. I wished I could live in it and on it. I saw a lizard run over the crag; I saw a bee busy among the sweet bilberries. I would fain at the moment have become bee or lizard, that I might have found fitting nutriment, permanent shelter here. But I was a human being, and had a human being's wants: I must not linger where there was nothing to supply them. I rose; I looked back at the bed I had left. Hopeless of the future, I wished but this—that my Maker had that night thought good to require my soul of me while I slept; and that this weary frame, absolved by death from further conflict with fate, had now but to decay quietly, and mingle in peace with the soil of this wilderness. Life, however, was yet in my possession, with all its requirements, and pains, and responsibilities. The burden must be carried; the want provided for; the suffering endured; the responsibility fulfilled. I set out. Whitcross regained, I followed a road which led from the sun, now fervent and high. By no other circumstance had I will to decide my choice. I walked a long time, and when I thought I had nearly done enough, and might conscientiously yield to the fatigue that almost overpowered me—might relax this forced action, and, sitting down on a stone I saw near, submit resistlessly to the apathy that clogged heart and limb—I heard a bell chime—a church bell. I turned in the direction of the sound, and there, amongst the romantic hills, whose changes and aspect I had ceased to note an hour ago, I saw a hamlet and a spire. All the valley at my right hand was full of pasture-fields, and cornfields, and wood; and a glittering stream ran zig-zag through the varied shades of green, the mellowing grain, the sombre woodland, the clear and sunny lea. Recalled by the rumbling of wheels to the road before me, I saw a heavily-laden waggon labouring up the hill, and not far beyond were two cows and their drover. Human life and human labour were near. I must struggle on: strive to live and bend to toil like the rest. About two o'clock p.m.

I entered the village. At the bottom of its one street there was a little shop with some cakes of bread in the window. I coveted a cake of bread. With that refreshment I could perhaps regain a degree of energy: without it, it would be difficult to proceed. The wish to have some strength and some vigour returned to me as soon as I was amongst my fellow-beings. I felt it would be degrading to faint with hunger on the causeway of a hamlet. Had I nothing about me I could offer in exchange for one of these rolls? I considered. I had a small silk handkerchief tied round my throat; I had my gloves. I could hardly tell how men and women in extremities of destitution proceeded. I did not know whether either of these articles would be accepted: probably they would not; but I must try. I entered the shop: a woman was there.

Seeing a respectably-dressed person, a lady as she supposed, she came forward with civility. How could she serve me? I was seized with shame: my tongue would not utter the request I had prepared. I dared not offer her the half-worn gloves, the creased handkerchief: besides, I felt it would be absurd. I only begged permission to sit down a moment, as I was tired. Disappointed in the expectation of a customer, she coolly acceded to my request. She pointed to a seat; I sank into it. I felt sorely urged to weep; but conscious how unseasonable such a manifestation would be, I restrained it. Soon I asked her “if there were any dressmaker or plain-workwoman in the village?” “Yes; two or three.

Quite as many as there was employment for.” I reflected.

I was driven to the point now. I was brought face to face with Necessity. I stood in the position of one without a resource, without a friend, without a coin. I must do something. What? I must apply somewhere. Where? “Did she know of any place in the neighbourhood where a servant was wanted?” “Nay; she couldn't say.”

“What was the chief trade in this place?

What did most of the people do?” “Some were farm labourers; a good deal worked at Mr. Oliver's needle-factory, and at the foundry.” “Did Mr. Oliver employ women?”

“Nay; it was men's work.”

“And what do the women do?”

“I knawn't,” was the answer.

“Some does one thing, and some another. Poor folk mun get on as they can.” She seemed to be tired of my questions: and, indeed, what claim had I to importune her? A neighbour or two came in; my chair was evidently wanted. I took leave. I passed up the street, looking as I went at all the houses to the right hand and to the left; but I could discover no pretext, nor see an inducement to enter any. I rambled round the hamlet, going sometimes to a little distance and returning again, for an hour or more. Much exhausted, and suffering greatly now for want of food, I turned aside into a lane and sat down under the hedge. Ere many minutes had elapsed, I was again on my feet, however, and again searching something—a resource, or at least an informant. A pretty little house stood at the top of the lane, with a garden before it, exquisitely neat and brilliantly blooming. I stopped at it. What business had I to approach the white door or touch the glittering knocker? In what way could it possibly be the interest of the inhabitants of that dwelling to serve me? Yet I drew near and knocked. A mild-looking, cleanly-attired young woman opened the door. In such a voice as might be expected from a hopeless heart and fainting frame—a voice wretchedly low and faltering—I asked if a servant was wanted here? “No,” said she; “we do not keep a servant.” “Can you tell me where I could get employment of any kind?” I continued. “I am a stranger, without acquaintance in this place. I want some work: no matter what.” But it was not her business to think for me, or to seek a place for me: besides, in her eyes, how doubtful must have appeared my character, position, tale. She shook her head, she “was sorry she could give me no information,” and the white door closed, quite gently and civilly: but it shut me out. If she had held it open a little longer, I believe I should have begged a piece of bread; for I was now brought low. I could not bear to return to the sordid village, where, besides, no prospect of aid was visible. I should have longed rather to deviate to a wood I saw not far off, which appeared in its thick shade to offer inviting shelter; but I was so sick, so weak, so gnawed with nature's cravings, instinct kept me roaming round abodes where there was a chance of food. Solitude would be no solitude—rest no rest—while the vulture, hunger, thus sank beak and talons in my side. I drew near houses; I left them, and came back again, and again I wandered away: always repelled by the consciousness of having no claim to ask—no right to expect interest in my isolated lot. Meantime, the afternoon advanced, while I thus wandered about like a lost and starving dog. In crossing a field, I saw the church spire before me: I hastened towards it. Near the churchyard, and in the middle of a garden, stood a well-built though small house, which I had no doubt was the parsonage. I remembered that strangers who arrive at a place where they have no friends, and who want employment, sometimes apply to the clergyman for introduction and aid. It is the clergyman's function to help—at least with advice—those who wished to help themselves. I seemed to have something like a right to seek counsel here. Renewing then my courage, and gathering my feeble remains of strength, I pushed on. I reached the house, and knocked at the kitchen-door. An old woman opened: I asked was this the parsonage? “Yes.”

“Was the clergyman in?”

“No.”

“Would he be in soon?”

“No, he was gone from home.”

“To a distance?”

“Not so far—happen three mile.

He had been called away by the sudden death of his father: he was at Marsh End now, and would very likely stay there a fortnight longer.” “Was there any lady of the house?”

“Nay, there was naught but her, and she was housekeeper;” and of her, reader, I could not bear to ask the relief for want of which I was sinking; I could not yet beg; and again I crawled away. Once more I took off my handkerchief—once more I thought of the cakes of bread in the little shop.

Oh, for but a crust! for but one mouthful to allay the pang of famine! Instinctively I turned my face again to the village; I found the shop again, and I went in; and though others were there besides the woman I ventured the request—“Would she give me a roll for this handkerchief?” She looked at me with evident suspicion: “Nay, she never sold stuff i' that way.”

Almost desperate, I asked for half a cake; she again refused. “How could she tell where I had got the handkerchief?” she said. “Would she take my gloves?”

“No!

what could she do with them?” Reader, it is not pleasant to dwell on these details.

Some say there is enjoyment in looking back to painful experience past; but at this day I can scarcely bear to review the times to which I allude: the moral degradation, blent with the physical suffering, form too distressing a recollection ever to be willingly dwelt on. I blamed none of those who repulsed me. I felt it was what was to be expected, and what could not be helped: an ordinary beggar is frequently an object of suspicion; a well-dressed beggar inevitably so. To be sure, what I begged was employment; but whose business was it to provide me with employment? Not, certainly, that of persons who saw me then for the first time, and who knew nothing about my character. And as to the woman who would not take my handkerchief in exchange for her bread, why, she was right, if the offer appeared to her sinister or the exchange unprofitable. Let me condense now. I am sick of the subject. A little before dark I passed a farm-house, at the open door of which the farmer was sitting, eating his supper of bread and cheese. I stopped and said— “Will you give me a piece of bread?

for I am very hungry.” He cast on me a glance of surprise; but without answering, he cut a thick slice from his loaf, and gave it to me. I imagine he did not think I was a beggar, but only an eccentric sort of lady, who had taken a fancy to his brown loaf. As soon as I was out of sight of his house, I sat down and ate it. I could not hope to get a lodging under a roof, and sought it in the wood I have before alluded to. But my night was wretched, my rest broken: the ground was damp, the air cold: besides, intruders passed near me more than once, and I had again and again to change my quarters; no sense of safety or tranquillity befriended me. Towards morning it rained; the whole of the following day was wet. Do not ask me, reader, to give a minute account of that day; as before, I sought work; as before, I was repulsed; as before, I starved; but once did food pass my lips. At the door of a cottage I saw a little girl about to throw a mess of cold porridge into a pig trough. “Will you give me that?” I asked. She stared at me.

“Mother!” she exclaimed, “there is a woman wants me to give her these porridge.” “Well lass,” replied a voice within, “give it her if she's a beggar. T' pig doesn't want it.” The girl emptied the stiffened mould into my hand, and I devoured it ravenously. As the wet twilight deepened, I stopped in a solitary bridle-path, which I had been pursuing an hour or more. “My strength is quite failing me,” I said in a soliloquy. “I feel I cannot go much farther. Shall I be an outcast again this night? While the rain descends so, must I lay my head on the cold, drenched ground? I fear I cannot do otherwise: for who will receive me? But it will be very dreadful, with this feeling of hunger, faintness, chill, and this sense of desolation—this total prostration of hope. In all likelihood, though, I should die before morning. And why cannot I reconcile myself to the prospect of death? Why do I struggle to retain a valueless life? Because I know, or believe, Mr. Rochester is living: and then, to die of want and cold is a fate to which nature cannot submit passively. Oh, Providence! sustain me a little longer! Aid!—direct me!”

CHAPTER XXVIII-a CAPÍTULO XXVIII-a ГЛАВА XXVIII-а BÖLÜM XXVIII-a

Two days are passed. Deux jours se sont écoulés. Két nap telt el.

It is a summer evening; the coachman has set me down at a place called Whitcross; he could take me no farther for the sum I had given, and I was not possessed of another shilling in the world. C'est un soir d'été; le cocher m'a déposé à un endroit appelé Whitcross; il ne pouvait pas m'emmener plus loin pour la somme que j'avais donnée, et je n'avais pas d'autre shilling au monde. The coach is a mile off by this time; I am alone. L'entraîneur est à un mille à cette heure; Je suis seul. At this moment I discover that I forgot to take my parcel out of the pocket of the coach, where I had placed it for safety; there it remains, there it must remain; and now, I am absolutely destitute. A ce moment, je découvre que j'ai oublié de sortir mon colis de la poche de la voiture, où je l'avais placé par sécurité; là ça reste, là ça doit rester; et maintenant, je suis absolument sans ressources. Whitcross is no town, nor even a hamlet; it is but a stone pillar set up where four roads meet: whitewashed, I suppose, to be more obvious at a distance and in darkness. Whitcross n'est pas une ville, ni même un hameau; ce n'est qu'un pilier de pierre dressé à la rencontre de quatre routes: blanchies à la chaux, je suppose, pour être plus évidente à distance et dans l'obscurité. Four arms spring from its summit: the nearest town to which these point is, according to the inscription, distant ten miles; the farthest, above twenty. Four arms spring from its summit: the nearest town to which these point is, according to the inscription, distant ten miles; the farthest, above twenty. Quatre bras jaillissent de son sommet: la ville la plus proche à laquelle ces points sont, d'après l'inscription, distants de dix milles; le plus éloigné, au-dessus de vingt. From the well-known names of these towns I learn in what county I have lighted; a north-midland shire, dusk with moorland, ridged with mountain: this I see. Des noms bien connus de ces villes, j'apprends dans quel comté j'ai éclairé; un comté du nord-midland, crépuscule avec des landes, strié de montagne: je le vois. There are great moors behind and on each hand of me; there are waves of mountains far beyond that deep valley at my feet. Il y a de grandes landes derrière et sur chaque main de moi; il y a des vagues de montagnes bien au-delà de cette vallée profonde à mes pieds. The population here must be thin, and I see no passengers on these roads: they stretch out east, west, north, and south—white, broad, lonely; they are all cut in the moor, and the heather grows deep and wild to their very verge. La population ici doit être maigre, et je ne vois aucun passager sur ces routes: elles s'étendent à l'est, à l'ouest, au nord et au sud - blanches, larges, solitaires; ils sont tous coupés dans la lande, et la bruyère pousse profondément et sauvage jusqu'à leur bord. Yet a chance traveller might pass by; and I wish no eye to see me now: strangers would wonder what I am doing, lingering here at the sign-post, evidently objectless and lost. Pourtant, un voyageur fortuit pourrait passer; et je souhaite qu'aucun œil ne me voie maintenant: des étrangers se demanderaient ce que je fais, s'attardant ici au poteau indicateur, manifestement sans objet et perdu. I might be questioned: I could give no answer but what would sound incredible and excite suspicion. I might be questioned: I could give no answer but what would sound incredible and excite suspicion. Je pourrais être interrogé: je ne pourrais donner aucune réponse, mais ce qui semblerait incroyable et exciterait les soupçons. Not a tie holds me to human society at this moment—not a charm or hope calls me where my fellow-creatures are—none that saw me would have a kind thought or a good wish for me. Not a tie holds me to human society at this moment—not a charm or hope calls me where my fellow-creatures are—none that saw me would have a kind thought or a good wish for me. Aucun lien ne me lie à la société humaine en ce moment - pas un charme ou un espoir ne m'appelle là où sont mes semblables - aucun de ceux qui m'ont vu n'aurait une bonne pensée ou un bon souhait pour moi. I have no relative but the universal mother, Nature: I will seek her breast and ask repose. Je n'ai de parent que la mère universelle, la Nature: je chercherai sa poitrine et lui demanderai le repos. I struck straight into the heath; I held on to a hollow I saw deeply furrowing the brown moorside; I waded knee-deep in its dark growth; I turned with its turnings, and finding a moss-blackened granite crag in a hidden angle, I sat down under it. I struck straight into the heath; I held on to a hollow I saw deeply furrowing the brown moorside; I waded knee-deep in its dark growth; I turned with its turnings, and finding a moss-blackened granite crag in a hidden angle, I sat down under it. J'ai frappé directement dans la lande; Je me suis accroché à un creux que j'ai vu sillonner profondément la berge brune; J'ai pataugé jusqu'aux genoux dans sa croissance sombre; Je me retournai avec ses tournures, et trouvant un rocher de granit noirci par la mousse dans un angle caché, je m'assis en dessous. High banks of moor were about me; the crag protected my head: the sky was over that. De hauts bords de lande m'entouraient; le rocher protégeait ma tête: le ciel était là-dessus. Some time passed before I felt tranquil even here: I had a vague dread that wild cattle might be near, or that some sportsman or poacher might discover me. Un certain temps s'écoula avant que je me sente tranquille même ici: j'avais une vague crainte que du bétail sauvage ne soit proche, ou qu'un sportif ou un braconnier me découvre. If a gust of wind swept the waste, I looked up, fearing it was the rush of a bull; if a plover whistled, I imagined it a man. Si une rafale de vent balayait le désert, je levais les yeux, craignant qu'il s'agisse de la ruée d'un taureau ; si un pluvier sifflait, j'imaginais qu'il s'agissait d'un homme. Finding my apprehensions unfounded, however, and calmed by the deep silence that reigned as evening declined at nightfall, I took confidence. Finding my apprehensions unfounded, however, and calmed by the deep silence that reigned as evening declined at nightfall, I took confidence. Cependant, mes appréhensions n'étant pas fondées et le silence profond qui régnait au fur et à mesure que le soir déclinait, j'ai pris confiance. As yet I had not thought; I had only listened, watched, dreaded; now I regained the faculty of reflection. Jusqu'à présent, je n'avais pas pensé; J'avais seulement écouté, regardé, redouté; maintenant j'ai retrouvé la faculté de réflexion. What was I to do? Que devais-je faire?

Where to go? Oh, intolerable questions, when I could do nothing and go nowhere!—when a long way must yet be measured by my weary, trembling limbs before I could reach human habitation—when cold charity must be entreated before I could get a lodging: reluctant sympathy importuned, almost certain repulse incurred, before my tale could be listened to, or one of my wants relieved! Oh, questions intolérables, quand je ne pouvais rien faire et aller nulle part! - quand un long chemin doit encore être mesuré par mes membres fatigués et tremblants avant que je puisse atteindre l'habitation humaine - quand la charité froide doit être suppliée avant que je puisse obtenir un logement: réticent sympathie importunée, répulsion presque certaine encourue, avant que mon récit ne puisse être écouté, ou un de mes besoins soulagé! I touched the heath: it was dry, and yet warm with the heat of the summer day. I touched the heath: it was dry, and yet warm with the heat of the summer day. J'ai touché la lande: elle était sèche et pourtant chaude avec la chaleur de l'été.

I looked at the sky; it was pure: a kindly star twinkled just above the chasm ridge. I looked at the sky; it was pure: a kindly star twinkled just above the chasm ridge. J'ai regardé le ciel; c'était pur: une gentille étoile scintillait juste au-dessus de la crête du gouffre. The dew fell, but with propitious softness; no breeze whispered. The dew fell, but with propitious softness; no breeze whispered. La rosée tombait, mais avec une douceur propice; aucune brise ne murmura. Nature seemed to me benign and good; I thought she loved me, outcast as I was; and I, who from man could anticipate only mistrust, rejection, insult, clung to her with filial fondness. Nature seemed to me benign and good; I thought she loved me, outcast as I was; and I, who from man could anticipate only mistrust, rejection, insult, clung to her with filial fondness. La nature me parut bénigne et bonne; Je pensais qu'elle m'aimait, paria comme j'étais et moi, qui de l'homme ne pouvais anticiper que la méfiance, le rejet, l'insulte, je me suis accroché à elle avec une tendresse filiale. To-night, at least, I would be her guest, as I was her child: my mother would lodge me without money and without price. Pour cette nuit, au moins, je serais son invité, comme j'étais son enfant : ma mère m'hébergerait sans argent et sans prix. I had one morsel of bread yet: the remnant of a roll I had bought in a town we passed through at noon with a stray penny—my last coin. J'avais encore un morceau de pain: le reste d'un petit pain que j'avais acheté dans une ville que nous traversions à midi avec un sou perdu - ma dernière pièce. I saw ripe bilberries gleaming here and there, like jet beads in the heath: I gathered a handful and ate them with the bread. J'ai vu des myrtilles mûres luire çà et là, comme des perles de jais dans la bruyère: j'en ai ramassé une poignée et les ai mangées avec le pain. My hunger, sharp before, was, if not satisfied, appeased by this hermit’s meal. My hunger, sharp before, was, if not satisfied, appeased by this hermit's meal. I said my evening prayers at its conclusion, and then chose my couch. Beside the crag the heath was very deep: when I lay down my feet were buried in it; rising high on each side, it left only a narrow space for the night-air to invade. Beside the crag the heath was very deep: when I lay down my feet were buried in it; rising high on each side, it left only a narrow space for the night-air to invade. A côté du rocher, la bruyère était très profonde: quand je me couchais, mes pieds y étaient enterrés; s'élevant haut de chaque côté, il ne laissait qu'un espace étroit pour l'envahissement de l'air nocturne. I folded my shawl double, and spread it over me for a coverlet; a low, mossy swell was my pillow. I folded my shawl double, and spread it over me for a coverlet; a low, mossy swell was my pillow. J'ai plié mon châle en deux et je l'ai étalé sur moi pour en faire une couverture; une petite houle moussue était mon oreiller. Thus lodged, I was not, at least—at the commencement of the night, cold. Thus lodged, I was not, at least—at the commencement of the night, cold. Ainsi logé, je n'étais pas, du moins - au commencement de la nuit, froid. My rest might have been blissful enough, only a sad heart broke it. My rest might have been blissful enough, only a sad heart broke it. Mon repos aurait pu être assez heureux, seul un cœur triste l'a brisé. It plained of its gaping wounds, its inward bleeding, its riven chords. It plained of its gaping wounds, its inward bleeding, its riven chords. Il se plaignait de ses blessures béantes, de son saignement intérieur, de ses cordes déchirées. It trembled for Mr. Rochester and his doom; it bemoaned him with bitter pity; it demanded him with ceaseless longing; and, impotent as a bird with both wings broken, it still quivered its shattered pinions in vain attempts to seek him. It trembled for Mr. Rochester and his doom; it bemoaned him with bitter pity; it demanded him with ceaseless longing; and, impotent as a bird with both wings broken, it still quivered its shattered pinions in vain attempts to seek him. Cela tremblait pour M. Rochester et son destin; il le déplorait avec une pitié amère; elle l'exigeait avec un désir incessant; et, impuissant comme un oiseau aux deux ailes brisées, il frémissait encore ses pignons brisés dans de vaines tentatives pour le chercher. Worn out with this torture of thought, I rose to my knees. Night was come, and her planets were risen: a safe, still night: too serene for the companionship of fear. Night was come, and her planets were risen: a safe, still night: too serene for the companionship of fear. We know that God is everywhere; but certainly we feel His presence most when His works are on the grandest scale spread before us; and it is in the unclouded night-sky, where His worlds wheel their silent course, that we read clearest His infinitude, His omnipotence, His omnipresence. We know that God is everywhere; but certainly we feel His presence most when His works are on the grandest scale spread before us; and it is in the unclouded night-sky, where His worlds wheel their silent course, that we read clearest His infinitude, His omnipotence, His omnipresence. Nous savons que Dieu est partout; mais certainement nous sentons sa présence le plus lorsque ses œuvres sont sur la plus grande échelle qui se répandent devant nous; et c'est dans le ciel nocturne dégagé, où ses mondes tournent silencieusement, que nous lisons le plus clairement son infinitude, son omnipotence, son omniprésence. I had risen to my knees to pray for Mr. Rochester. Looking up, I, with tear-dimmed eyes, saw the mighty Milky-way. Levant les yeux, je vis la puissante Voie Lactée, les yeux obscurcis par les larmes. Remembering what it was—what countless systems there swept space like a soft trace of light—I felt the might and strength of God. Remembering what it was—what countless systems there swept space like a soft trace of light—I felt the might and strength of God. En me souvenant de ce que c'était - quels systèmes innombrables balayaient l'espace comme une douce trace de lumière - j'ai senti la puissance et la force de Dieu. Sure was I of His efficiency to save what He had made: convinced I grew that neither earth should perish, nor one of the souls it treasured. Sure was I of His efficiency to save what He had made: convinced I grew that neither earth should perish, nor one of the souls it treasured. J'étais sûr de son efficacité pour sauver ce qu'il avait fait: convaincu que je grandissais que ni la terre ne périrait, ni l'une des âmes qu'elle chérissait. I turned my prayer to thanksgiving: the Source of Life was also the Saviour of spirits. I turned my prayer to thanksgiving: the Source of Life was also the Saviour of spirits. J'ai transformé ma prière en action de grâces: la Source de Vie était aussi le Sauveur des esprits. Mr. Rochester was safe; he was God’s, and by God would he be guarded. M. Rochester était en sécurité ; il appartenait à Dieu, et c'est par Dieu qu'il serait gardé. I again nestled to the breast of the hill; and ere long in sleep forgot sorrow. Je me suis de nouveau blotti au sein de la colline; et avant longtemps dans le sommeil oublié la douleur. But next day, Want came to me pale and bare. Mais le lendemain, Want vint à moi pâle et nu.

Long after the little birds had left their nests; long after bees had come in the sweet prime of day to gather the heath honey before the dew was dried—when the long morning shadows were curtailed, and the sun filled earth and sky—I got up, and I looked round me. Longtemps après que les petits oiseaux aient quitté leurs nids; longtemps après que les abeilles soient venues à l'aube pour ramasser le miel de bruyère avant que la rosée ne soit sèche - quand les longues ombres du matin se sont réduites et que le soleil a rempli la terre et le ciel - je me suis levé et j'ai regardé autour de moi. What a still, hot, perfect day!

What a golden desert this spreading moor! Quel désert d'or cette lande étendue! Everywhere sunshine. I wished I could live in it and on it. I saw a lizard run over the crag; I saw a bee busy among the sweet bilberries. I would fain at the moment have become bee or lizard, that I might have found fitting nutriment, permanent shelter here. I would fain at the moment have become bee or lizard, that I might have found fitting nutriment, permanent shelter here. J'aurais aimé en ce moment devenir une abeille ou un lézard, que j'aurais pu trouver ici un aliment approprié, un abri permanent. But I was a human being, and had a human being’s wants: I must not linger where there was nothing to supply them. Mais j'étais un être humain et j'avais les besoins d'un être humain: je ne dois pas m'attarder là où il n'y avait rien pour les subvenir. I rose; I looked back at the bed I had left. Hopeless of the future, I wished but this—that my Maker had that night thought good to require my soul of me while I slept; and that this weary frame, absolved by death from further conflict with fate, had now but to decay quietly, and mingle in peace with the soil of this wilderness. Hopeless of the future, I wished but this—that my Maker had that night thought good to require my soul of me while I slept; and that this weary frame, absolved by death from further conflict with fate, had now but to decay quietly, and mingle in peace with the soil of this wilderness. Sans espoir de l'avenir, je ne souhaitais que ceci - que mon Créateur ait jugé bon cette nuit-là d'exiger mon âme de moi pendant que je dormais; et que ce cadre fatigué, dispensé par la mort de tout conflit supplémentaire avec le destin, n'avait plus qu'à se décomposer tranquillement, et se mêler en paix au sol de ce désert. Life, however, was yet in my possession, with all its requirements, and pains, and responsibilities. Life, however, was yet in my possession, with all its requirements, and pains, and responsibilities. La vie, cependant, était encore en ma possession, avec toutes ses exigences, ses douleurs et ses responsabilités. The burden must be carried; the want provided for; the suffering endured; the responsibility fulfilled. The burden must be carried; the want provided for; the suffering endured; the responsibility fulfilled. Le fardeau doit être porté; le besoin prévu; la souffrance endurée; la responsabilité assumée. I set out. Je suis parti. Whitcross regained, I followed a road which led from the sun, now fervent and high. Whitcross regained, I followed a road which led from the sun, now fervent and high. Whitcross regagné, j'ai suivi une route qui partait du soleil, maintenant fervente et haute. By no other circumstance had I will to decide my choice. Par aucune autre circonstance je n'avais voulu décider de mon choix. I walked a long time, and when I thought I had nearly done enough, and might conscientiously yield to the fatigue that almost overpowered me—might relax this forced action, and, sitting down on a stone I saw near, submit resistlessly to the apathy that clogged heart and limb—I heard a bell chime—a church bell. I walked a long time, and when I thought I had nearly done enough, and might conscientiously yield to the fatigue that almost overpowered me—might relax this forced action, and, sitting down on a stone I saw near, submit resistlessly to the apathy that clogged heart and limb—I heard a bell chime—a church bell. J'ai marché longtemps, et quand je pensais en avoir presque fait assez, et que je pourrais consciencieusement céder à la fatigue qui me maîtrisait presque, je pouvais relâcher cette action forcée, et, m'asseyant sur une pierre que je voyais de près, me soumettre sans résistance à l'apathie ce cœur et ce membre obstrués - j'ai entendu un carillon de cloche - une cloche d'église. I turned in the direction of the sound, and there, amongst the romantic hills, whose changes and aspect I had ceased to note an hour ago, I saw a hamlet and a spire. Je me suis tourné dans le sens du son, et là, parmi les collines romantiques, dont j'avais cessé de noter les changements et l'aspect il y a une heure, j'ai vu un hameau et une flèche. All the valley at my right hand was full of pasture-fields, and cornfields, and wood; and a glittering stream ran zig-zag through the varied shades of green, the mellowing grain, the sombre woodland, the clear and sunny lea. All the valley at my right hand was full of pasture-fields, and cornfields, and wood; and a glittering stream ran zig-zag through the varied shades of green, the mellowing grain, the sombre woodland, the clear and sunny lea. Toute la vallée à ma droite était pleine de pâturages, de champs de blé et de bois; et un ruisseau étincelant courait en zig-zag à travers les nuances variées de vert, le grain adoucissant, le bois sombre, le feu clair et ensoleillé. Recalled by the rumbling of wheels to the road before me, I saw a heavily-laden waggon labouring up the hill, and not far beyond were two cows and their drover. Recalled by the rumbling of wheels to the road before me, I saw a heavily-laden waggon labouring up the hill, and not far beyond were two cows and their drover. Rappelé par le grondement des roues sur la route devant moi, je vis un chariot lourdement chargé travailler sur la colline, et non loin au-delà se trouvaient deux vaches et leur bouvier. Human life and human labour were near. I must struggle on: strive to live and bend to toil like the rest. Je dois continuer à lutter: m'efforcer de vivre et me pencher pour travailler comme les autres. About two o’clock p.m.

I entered the village. At the bottom of its one street there was a little shop with some cakes of bread in the window. I coveted a cake of bread. J'ai convoité un gâteau de pain. With that refreshment I could perhaps regain a degree of energy: without it, it would be difficult to proceed. Avec ce rafraîchissement, je pourrais peut-être retrouver un peu d'énergie: sans lui, il serait difficile de continuer. The wish to have some strength and some vigour returned to me as soon as I was amongst my fellow-beings. The wish to have some strength and some vigour returned to me as soon as I was amongst my fellow-beings. Le désir d'avoir de la force et de la vigueur m'est revenu dès que j'étais parmi mes semblables. I felt it would be degrading to faint with hunger on the causeway of a hamlet. I felt it would be degrading to faint with hunger on the causeway of a hamlet. Je sentais qu'il serait dégradant de s'évanouir de faim sur la chaussée d'un hameau. Had I nothing about me I could offer in exchange for one of these rolls? N'avais-je rien à propos de moi que je pourrais offrir en échange d'un de ces rouleaux? I considered. I had a small silk handkerchief tied round my throat; I had my gloves. J'avais un petit mouchoir de soie noué autour de ma gorge; J'avais mes gants. I could hardly tell how men and women in extremities of destitution proceeded. Je pouvais à peine dire comment les hommes et les femmes en situation d'extrême misère procédaient. I did not know whether either of these articles would be accepted: probably they would not; but I must try. I entered the shop: a woman was there.

Seeing a respectably-dressed person, a lady as she supposed, she came forward with civility. Voyant une personne respectablement vêtue, une dame comme elle le supposait, elle se montra courtoise. How could she serve me? Comment pouvait-elle me servir? I was seized with shame: my tongue would not utter the request I had prepared. I dared not offer her the half-worn gloves, the creased handkerchief: besides, I felt it would be absurd. I only begged permission to sit down a moment, as I was tired. Disappointed in the expectation of a customer, she coolly acceded to my request. Déçue par l'attente d'un client, elle a froidement accédé à ma demande. She pointed to a seat; I sank into it. I felt sorely urged to weep; but conscious how unseasonable such a manifestation would be, I restrained it. Je me sentais fortement poussé à pleurer; mais conscient à quel point une telle manifestation serait insaisissable, je l'ai retenu. Soon I asked her “if there were any dressmaker or plain-workwoman in the village?” “Yes; two or three.

Quite as many as there was employment for.” Autant qu'il y avait d'emploi pour. I reflected.

I was driven to the point now. J'étais poussé au point maintenant. I was brought face to face with Necessity. J'ai été confronté à la nécessité. I stood in the position of one without a resource, without a friend, without a coin. I must do something. What? I must apply somewhere. Je dois postuler quelque part. Where? “Did she know of any place in the neighbourhood where a servant was wanted?” “Nay; she couldn’t say.”

“What was the chief trade in this place? «Quel était le principal commerce dans cet endroit?

What did most of the people do?” “Some were farm labourers; a good deal worked at Mr. Oliver’s needle-factory, and at the foundry.” «Certains étaient des ouvriers agricoles; beaucoup travaillaient à l'usine d'aiguilles de M. Oliver et à la fonderie. “Did Mr. Oliver employ women?”

“Nay; it was men’s work.”

“And what do the women do?”

“I knawn’t,” was the answer. «Je n'ai pas frappé», fut la réponse.

“Some does one thing, and some another. Poor folk mun get on as they can.” Les pauvres gens s'entendent comme ils peuvent. She seemed to be tired of my questions: and, indeed, what claim had I to importune her? A neighbour or two came in; my chair was evidently wanted. I took leave. I passed up the street, looking as I went at all the houses to the right hand and to the left; but I could discover no pretext, nor see an inducement to enter any. Je suis passé dans la rue, regardant comme je suis allé à toutes les maisons à droite et à gauche; mais je n'ai pu découvrir aucun prétexte, ni voir une incitation à y entrer. I rambled round the hamlet, going sometimes to a little distance and returning again, for an hour or more. J'ai fait le tour du hameau, allant parfois un peu et revenant encore, pendant une heure ou plus. Much exhausted, and suffering greatly now for want of food, I turned aside into a lane and sat down under the hedge. Très épuisé et souffrant beaucoup de manque de nourriture, je me suis détourné dans une ruelle et je m'assis sous la haie. Ere many minutes had elapsed, I was again on my feet, however, and again searching something—a resource, or at least an informant. Avant que plusieurs minutes se soient écoulées, j'étais de nouveau debout, cependant, et je cherchais à nouveau quelque chose - une ressource, ou du moins un informateur. A pretty little house stood at the top of the lane, with a garden before it, exquisitely neat and brilliantly blooming. Une jolie petite maison se dressait en haut de l'allée, avec un jardin devant elle, d'une propreté exquise et d'une floraison éclatante. I stopped at it. What business had I to approach the white door or touch the glittering knocker? Quelle affaire avais-je d'approcher la porte blanche ou de toucher le heurtoir étincelant? In what way could it possibly be the interest of the inhabitants of that dwelling to serve me? En quoi pourrait-il être l'intérêt des habitants de cette demeure de me servir? Yet I drew near and knocked. A mild-looking, cleanly-attired young woman opened the door. Une jeune femme à l'air doux et aux vêtements propres ouvrit la porte. In such a voice as might be expected from a hopeless heart and fainting frame—a voice wretchedly low and faltering—I asked if a servant was wanted here? D'une voix telle qu'on pouvait s'y attendre d'un cœur désespéré et d'un corps évanoui - une voix misérablement basse et hésitante - j'ai demandé si un domestique était recherché ici? “No,” said she; “we do not keep a servant.” “Can you tell me where I could get employment of any kind?” I continued. “I am a stranger, without acquaintance in this place. I want some work: no matter what.” But it was not her business to think for me, or to seek a place for me: besides, in her eyes, how doubtful must have appeared my character, position, tale. Mais ce n'était pas son affaire de penser pour moi, ni de chercher une place pour moi: d'ailleurs, à ses yeux, combien douteux devaient paraître mon caractère, ma position, mon histoire. She shook her head, she “was sorry she could give me no information,” and the white door closed, quite gently and civilly: but it shut me out. If she had held it open a little longer, I believe I should have begged a piece of bread; for I was now brought low. Si elle l'avait tenu ouvert un peu plus longtemps, je crois que j'aurais mendié un morceau de pain; car j'étais maintenant abaissé. I could not bear to return to the sordid village, where, besides, no prospect of aid was visible. I could not bear to return to the sordid village, where, besides, no prospect of aid was visible. Je ne pouvais pas supporter de retourner dans le village sordide, où d'ailleurs aucune perspective d'aide n'était visible. I should have longed rather to deviate to a wood I saw not far off, which appeared in its thick shade to offer inviting shelter; but I was so sick, so weak, so gnawed with nature’s cravings, instinct kept me roaming round abodes where there was a chance of food. I should have longed rather to deviate to a wood I saw not far off, which appeared in its thick shade to offer inviting shelter; but I was so sick, so weak, so gnawed with nature's cravings, instinct kept me roaming round abodes where there was a chance of food. J'aurais plutôt voulu m'éloigner d'un bois que je voyais non loin, qui apparaissait dans son ombre épaisse pour offrir un abri accueillant; mais j'étais si malade, si faible, si rongée par les envies de la nature, l'instinct me faisait errer dans des demeures où il y avait une chance de manger. Solitude would be no solitude—rest no rest—while the vulture, hunger, thus sank beak and talons in my side. Solitude would be no solitude—rest no rest—while the vulture, hunger, thus sank beak and talons in my side. La solitude ne serait pas solitude - repos pas de repos - tandis que le vautour, la faim, coulait ainsi bec et serres à mes côtés. I drew near houses; I left them, and came back again, and again I wandered away: always repelled by the consciousness of having no claim to ask—no right to expect interest in my isolated lot. I drew near houses; I left them, and came back again, and again I wandered away: always repelled by the consciousness of having no claim to ask—no right to expect interest in my isolated lot. Je m'approchai des maisons; Je les ai quittés, et suis revenu encore, et encore je me suis éloigné: toujours repoussé par la conscience de n'avoir aucun droit à demander - aucun droit d'attendre de l'intérêt pour mon sort isolé. Meantime, the afternoon advanced, while I thus wandered about like a lost and starving dog. In crossing a field, I saw the church spire before me: I hastened towards it. In crossing a field, I saw the church spire before me: I hastened towards it. En traversant un champ, j'ai vu la flèche de l'église devant moi: je me suis précipité vers elle. Near the churchyard, and in the middle of a garden, stood a well-built though small house, which I had no doubt was the parsonage. Near the churchyard, and in the middle of a garden, stood a well-built though small house, which I had no doubt was the parsonage. Près du cimetière, et au milieu d'un jardin, se tenait une petite maison bien bâtie, dont je ne doutais pas qu'elle était le presbytère. I remembered that strangers who arrive at a place where they have no friends, and who want employment, sometimes apply to the clergyman for introduction and aid. I remembered that strangers who arrive at a place where they have no friends, and who want employment, sometimes apply to the clergyman for introduction and aid. It is the clergyman’s function to help—at least with advice—those who wished to help themselves. It is the clergyman's function to help—at least with advice—those who wished to help themselves. C'est la fonction du pasteur d'aider - au moins avec des conseils - ceux qui voulaient s'aider eux-mêmes. I seemed to have something like a right to seek counsel here. I seemed to have something like a right to seek counsel here. Je semblait avoir quelque chose comme le droit de demander conseil ici. Renewing then my courage, and gathering my feeble remains of strength, I pushed on. Renewing then my courage, and gathering my feeble remains of strength, I pushed on. Renouvelant alors mon courage et rassemblant mes faibles restes de force, je poussai. I reached the house, and knocked at the kitchen-door. I reached the house, and knocked at the kitchen-door. An old woman opened: I asked was this the parsonage? “Yes.”

“Was the clergyman in?”

“No.”

“Would he be in soon?”

“No, he was gone from home.” «Non, il était parti de chez lui.

“To a distance?” «À distance?»

“Not so far—happen three mile. «Pas si loin - arriver à trois milles.

He had been called away by the sudden death of his father: he was at Marsh End now, and would very likely stay there a fortnight longer.” He had been called away by the sudden death of his father: he was at Marsh End now, and would very likely stay there a fortnight longer.” Il avait été rappelé par la mort subite de son père: il était maintenant à Marsh End, et y resterait très probablement quinze jours de plus. “Was there any lady of the house?” «Y avait-il une dame de la maison?

“Nay, there was naught but her, and she was housekeeper;” and of her, reader, I could not bear to ask the relief for want of which I was sinking; I could not yet beg; and again I crawled away. “Nay, there was naught but her, and she was housekeeper;” and of her, reader, I could not bear to ask the relief for want of which I was sinking; I could not yet beg; and again I crawled away. «Non, il n'y avait rien d'autre qu'elle, et elle était femme de ménage;» et d'elle, lecteur, je ne pouvais supporter de demander le soulagement à défaut dont je coulais; Je ne pouvais pas encore mendier; et encore je me suis éloigné. Once more I took off my handkerchief—once more I thought of the cakes of bread in the little shop.

Oh, for but a crust! for but one mouthful to allay the pang of famine! pour une seule bouchée pour apaiser la douleur de la famine! Instinctively I turned my face again to the village; I found the shop again, and I went in; and though others were there besides the woman I ventured the request—“Would she give me a roll for this handkerchief?” Instinctively I turned my face again to the village; I found the shop again, and I went in; and though others were there besides the woman I ventured the request—“Would she give me a roll for this handkerchief?” Instinctivement, je tournai de nouveau le visage vers le village; J'ai retrouvé le magasin et je suis entré; et bien qu'il y en ait d'autres en plus de la femme, j'ai osé la demande: «Me donnerait-elle un rouleau pour ce mouchoir? She looked at me with evident suspicion: “Nay, she never sold stuff i' that way.”

Almost desperate, I asked for half a cake; she again refused. “How could she tell where I had got the handkerchief?” she said. «Comment a-t-elle pu dire où j'avais eu le mouchoir? dit-elle. “Would she take my gloves?”

“No!

what could she do with them?” que pourrait-elle en faire? Reader, it is not pleasant to dwell on these details. Lecteur, il n'est pas agréable de s'attarder sur ces détails.

Some say there is enjoyment in looking back to painful experience past; but at this day I can scarcely bear to review the times to which I allude: the moral degradation, blent with the physical suffering, form too distressing a recollection ever to be willingly dwelt on. Certains disent qu'il y a du plaisir à regarder en arrière une expérience douloureuse du passé; mais à ce jour, je peux à peine supporter de revoir les temps auxquels je fais allusion: la dégradation morale, mêlée à la souffrance physique, forme un souvenir trop angoissant pour qu'on ne s'y attarde jamais volontiers. I blamed none of those who repulsed me. I felt it was what was to be expected, and what could not be helped: an ordinary beggar is frequently an object of suspicion; a well-dressed beggar inevitably so. J'ai senti que c'était ce à quoi il fallait s'attendre, et ce qui ne pouvait pas être aidé: un mendiant ordinaire est souvent un objet de suspicion; un mendiant bien habillé le sera forcément. To be sure, what I begged was employment; but whose business was it to provide me with employment? Bien sûr, ce que je demandais, c'était un emploi; mais à qui était-ce de me fournir un emploi? Not, certainly, that of persons who saw me then for the first time, and who knew nothing about my character. And as to the woman who would not take my handkerchief in exchange for her bread, why, she was right, if the offer appeared to her sinister or the exchange unprofitable. Let me condense now. I am sick of the subject. J'en ai marre du sujet. A little before dark I passed a farm-house, at the open door of which the farmer was sitting, eating his supper of bread and cheese. I stopped and said— “Will you give me a piece of bread?

for I am very hungry.”  He cast on me a glance of surprise; but without answering, he cut a thick slice from his loaf, and gave it to me. I imagine he did not think I was a beggar, but only an eccentric sort of lady, who had taken a fancy to his brown loaf. As soon as I was out of sight of his house, I sat down and ate it. I could not hope to get a lodging under a roof, and sought it in the wood I have before alluded to. Je ne pouvais espérer obtenir un logement sous un toit, et je l'ai cherché dans le bois auquel j'ai fait allusion auparavant. But my night was wretched, my rest broken: the ground was damp, the air cold: besides, intruders passed near me more than once, and I had again and again to change my quarters; no sense of safety or tranquillity befriended me. But my night was wretched, my rest broken: the ground was damp, the air cold: besides, intruders passed near me more than once, and I had again and again to change my quarters; no sense of safety or tranquillity befriended me. Mais ma nuit était misérable, mon repos interrompu: le sol était humide, l'air froid: d'ailleurs, des intrus passaient plus d'une fois près de moi, et je devais encore et encore changer de quartier; aucun sentiment de sécurité ou de tranquillité ne me lie d'amitié. Towards morning it rained; the whole of the following day was wet. Do not ask me, reader, to give a minute account of that day; as before, I sought work; as before, I was repulsed; as before, I starved; but once did food pass my lips. Ne me demandez pas, lecteur, de vous faire un compte rendu minutieux de cette journée; comme avant, j'ai cherché du travail; comme auparavant, j'ai été repoussé; comme avant, je mourais de faim; mais une fois la nourriture passa mes lèvres. At the door of a cottage I saw a little girl about to throw a mess of cold porridge into a pig trough. At the door of a cottage I saw a little girl about to throw a mess of cold porridge into a pig trough. A la porte d'un chalet, j'ai vu une petite fille sur le point de jeter un gâchis de bouillie froide dans une auge à cochons. “Will you give me that?” I asked. She stared at me.

“Mother!” she exclaimed, “there is a woman wants me to give her these porridge.” “Well lass,” replied a voice within, “give it her if she’s a beggar. "Eh bien, jeune fille", répondit une voix intérieure, "donnez-lui si c'est une mendiante". T' pig doesn’t want it.” Le cochon n'en veut pas". The girl emptied the stiffened mould into my hand, and I devoured it ravenously. La fille a vidé le moule raidi dans ma main, et je l'ai dévoré avec avidité. As the wet twilight deepened, I stopped in a solitary bridle-path, which I had been pursuing an hour or more. Au fur et à mesure que le crépuscule humide s'approfondissait, je m'arrêtai dans un sentier cavalier solitaire, que j'avais poursuivi depuis une heure ou plus. “My strength is quite failing me,” I said in a soliloquy. “I feel I cannot go much farther. Shall I be an outcast again this night? Dois-je être à nouveau un paria cette nuit? While the rain descends so, must I lay my head on the cold, drenched ground? Pendant que la pluie tombe ainsi, dois-je poser ma tête sur le sol froid et trempé? I fear I cannot do otherwise: for who will receive me? Je crains de ne pouvoir faire autrement: car qui me recevra? But it will be very dreadful, with this feeling of hunger, faintness, chill, and this sense of desolation—this total prostration of hope. Mais ce sera très affreux, avec ce sentiment de faim, de malaise, de froid, et ce sentiment de désolation - cette prostration totale de l'espoir. In all likelihood, though, I should die before morning. Selon toute vraisemblance, cependant, je devrais mourir avant le matin. And why cannot I reconcile myself to the prospect of death? Et pourquoi ne puis-je pas me réconcilier avec la perspective de la mort? Why do I struggle to retain a valueless life? Pourquoi ai-je du mal à conserver une vie sans valeur? Because I know, or believe, Mr. Rochester is living: and then, to die of want and cold is a fate to which nature cannot submit passively. Parce que je sais, ou je crois, M. Rochester vit: et puis, mourir de besoin et de froid est un sort auquel la nature ne peut se soumettre passivement. Oh, Providence! sustain me a little longer! Aid!—direct me!”