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“you are no ruin; sir—no lightning…struck tree: you are green and vigorous。 plants will grow about your roots; whether you ask them or not; because they take delight in your bountiful shadow; and as they grow they will lean towards you; and wind round you; because your strength offers them so safe a prop。”
again he smiled: i gave him fort。
“you speak of friends; jane?” he asked。
“yes; of friends;” i answered rather hesitatingly: for i knew i meant more than friends; but could not tell what other word to employ。 he helped me。
“ah! jane。 but i want a wife。”
“do you; sir?”
“yes: is it news to you?”
“of course: you said nothing about it before。”
“is it unwele news?”
“that depends on circumstances; sir—on your choice。”
“which you shall make for me; jane。 i will abide by your decision。”
“choose then; sir—her who loves you best。”
“i will at least choose—her i love best。 jane; will you marry me?”
“yes; sir。”
“a poor blind man; whom you will have to lead about by the hand?”
“yes; sir。”
“a crippled man; twenty years older than you; whom you will have to wait on?”
“yes; sir。”
“truly; jane?”
“most truly; sir。”
“oh! my darling! god bless you and reward you!”
“mr。 rochester; if ever i did a good deed in my life—if ever i thought a good thought—if ever i prayed a sincere and blameless prayer—if ever i wished a righteous wish;—i am rewarded now。 to be your wife is; for me; to be as happy as i can be on earth。”
“because you delight in sacrifice。”
“sacrifice! what do i sacrifice? famine for food; expectation for content。 to be privileged to put my arms round what i value—to press my lips to what i love—to repose on what i trust: is that to make a sacrifice? if so; then certainly i delight in sacrifice。”
“and to bear with my infirmities; jane: to overlook my deficiencies。”
“which are none; sir; to me。 i love you better now; when i can really be useful to you; than i did in your state of proud independence; when you disdained every part but that of the giver and protector。”
“hitherto i have hated to be helped—to be led: henceforth; i feel i shall hate it no more。 i did not like to put my hand into a hireling’s; but it is pleasant to feel it circled by jane’s little fingers。 i preferred utter loneliness to the constant attendance of servants; but jane’s soft ministry will be a perpetual joy。 jane suits me: do i suit her?”
“to the finest fibre of my nature; sir。”
“the case being so; we have nothing in the world to wait for: we must be married instantly。”
he looked and spoke with eagerness: his old impetuosity was rising。
“we must bee one flesh without any delay; jane: there is but the licence to get—then we marry。”
“mr。 rochester; i have just discovered the sun is far declined from its meridian; and pilot is actually gone home to his dinner。 let me look at your watch。”
“fasten it into your girdle; janet; and keep it henceforward: i have no use for it。”
“it is nearly four o’clock in the afternoon; sir。 don’t you feel hungry?”
“the third day from this must be our wedding…day; jane。 never mind fine clothes and jewels; now: all that is not worth a fillip。”
“the sun has dried up all the rain…drops; sir。 the breeze is still: it is quite hot。”
“do you know; jane; i have your little pearl necklace at this moment fastened round my bronze scrag under my cravat? i have worn it since the day i lost my only treasure; as a memento of her。”
“we will go home through the wood: that will be the shadiest way。”
he pursued his own thoughts without heeding me。
“jane! you think me; i daresay; an irreligious dog: but my heart swells with gratitude to the beneficent god of this earth just now。 he sees not as man sees; but far clearer: judges not as man judges; but far more wisely。 i did wrong: i would have sullied my innocent flower—breathed guilt on its purity: the omnipotent snatched it from me。 i; in my stiff…necked rebellion; almost cursed the dispensation: instead of bending to the decree; i defied it。 divine justice pursued its course; disasters came thick on me: i was forced to pass through the valley of the shadow of death。 his chastisements are mighty; and one smote me which has humbled me for ever。 you know i was proud of my strength: but what is it now; when i must give it over to foreign guidance; as a child does its weakness? of late; jane—only—only of late—i began to see and acknowledge the hand of god in my doom。 i began to experience remorse; repentance; the wish for reconcilement to my maker。 i began sometimes to pray: very brief prayers they were; but very sincere。
“some days since: nay; i can number them—four; it was last monday night; a singular mood came over me: one in which grief replaced frenzy—sorrow; sullenness。 i had long had the impression that since i could nowhere find you; you must be dead。 late that night— perhaps it might be between eleven and twelve o’clock—ere i retired to my dreary rest; i supplicated god; that; if it seemed good to him; i might soon be taken from this life; and admitted to that world to e; where there was still hope of rejoining jane。
“i was in my own room; and sitting by the window; which was open: it soothed me to feel the balmy night…air; though i could see no stars and only by a vague; luminous haze; knew the presence of a moon。 i longed for thee; janet! oh; i longed for thee both with soul and flesh! i asked of god; at once in anguish and humility; if i had not been long enough desolate; afflicted; tormented; and might not soon taste bliss and peace once more。 that i merited all i endured; i acknowledged—that i could scarcely endure more; i pleaded; and the alpha and omega of my heart’s wishes broke involuntarily from my lips in the words—‘jane! jane! jane!’”
“did you speak these words aloud?”
“i did; jane。 if any listener had heard me; he would have thought me mad: i pronounced them with such frantic energy。”
“and it was last monday night; somewhere near midnight?”
“yes; but the time is of no consequence: what followed is the strange point。 you will think me superstitious;—some superstition i have in my blood; and always had: nevertheless; this is true— true at least it is that i heard what i now relate。
“as i exclaimed ‘jane! jane! jane!’ a voice—i cannot tell whence the voice came; but i know whose voice it was—replied; ‘i am ing: wait for me;’ and a moment after; went whispering on the wind the words—‘where are you?’
“i’ll tell you; if i can; the idea; the picture these words opened to my mind: yet it is difficult to express what i want to express。 ferndean is buried; as you see; in a heavy wood; where sound falls dull; and dies unreverberating。 ‘where are you?’ seemed spoken amongst mountains; for i heard a hill…sent echo repeat the words。 cooler and fresher at the moment the gale seemed to visit my brow: i could have deemed that in some wild; lone scene; i and jane were meeting。 in spirit; i believe we must have met。 you no doubt were; at that hour; in unconscious sleep; jane: perhaps your soul wandered from its cell to fort mine; for those were