简爱(英文版)-第85部分

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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　acplishments。　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　mission。　Her　relatives　encouraged　me；　petitors　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。”
“My　bride’s　mother　I　had　never　seen：　I　understood　she　was　dead。　The　honeymoon　over；　I　learned　my　mistake；　she　was　only　mad；　and　shut　up　in　a　lunatic　asylum。　There　was　a　younger　brother；　too—a　plete　dumb　idiot。　The　elder　one；　whom　you　have　seen　（and　whom　I　cannot　hate；　whilst　I　abhor　all　his　kindred；　because　he　has　some　grains　of　affection　in　his　feeble　mind；　shown　in　the　continued　interest　he　takes　in　his　wretched　sister；　and　also　in　a　dog…like　attachment　he　once　bore　me）；　will　probably　be　in　the　same　state　one　day。　My　father　and　my　brother　Rowland　knew　all　this；　but　they　thought　only　of　the　thirty　thousand　pounds；　and　joined　in　the　plot　against　me。”
“These　were　vile　discoveries；　but　except　for　the　treachery　of　concealment；　I　should　have　made　them　no　subject　of　reproach　to　my　wife；　even　when　I　found　her　nature　wholly　alien　to　mine；　her　tastes　obnoxious　to　me；　her　cast　of　mind　mon；　low；　narrow；　and　singularly　incapable　of　being　led　to　anything　higher；　expanded　to　anything　larger—when　I　found　that　I　could　not　pass　a　single　evening；　nor　even　a　single　hour　of　the　day　with　her　in　fort；　that　kindly　conversation　could　not　be　sustained　between　us；　because　whatever　topic　I　started；　immediately　received　from　her　a　turn　at　once　coarse　and　trite；　perverse　and　imbecile—when　I　perceived　that　I　should　never　have　a　quiet　or　settled　household；　because　no　servant　would　bear　the　continued　outbreaks　of　her　violent　and　unreasonable　temper；　or　the　vexations　of　her　absurd；　contradictory；　exacting　orders—even　then　I　restrained　myself：　I　eschewed　upbraiding；　I　curtailed　remonstrance；　I　tried　to　devour　my　repentance　and　disgust　in　secret；　I　repressed　the　deep　antipathy　I　felt。
“Jane；　I　will　not　trouble　you　with　abominable　details：　some　strong　words　shall　express　what　I　have　to　say。　I　lived　with　that　woman　upstairs　four　years；　and　before　that　time　she　had　tried　me　indeed：　her　character　ripened　and　developed　with　frightful　rapidity；　her　vices　sprang　up　fast　and　rank：　they　were　so　strong；　only　cruelty　could　check　them；　and　I　would　not　use　cruelty。　What　a　pigmy　intellect　she　had；　and　what　giant　propensities！　How　fearful　were　the　curses　those　propensities　entailed　on　me！　Bertha　Mason；　the　true　daughter　of　an　infamous　mother；　dragged　me　through　all　the　hideous　and　degrading　agonies　which　must　attend　a　man　bound　to　a　wife　at　once　intemperate　and　unchaste。
“My　brother　in　the　interval　was　dead；　and　at　the　end　of　the　four　years　my　father　died　too。　I　was　rich　enough　now—yet　poor　to　hideous　indigence：　a　nature　the　most　gross；　impure；　depraved　I　ever　saw；　was　associated　with　mine；　and　called　by　the　law　and　by　society　a　part　of　me。　And　I　could　not　rid　myself　of　it　by　any　legal　proceedings：　for　the　doctors　now　discovered　that　my　wife　was　mad—　her　excesses　had　prematurely　developed　the　germs　of　insanity。　Jane；　you　don’t　like　my　narrative；　you　look　almost　sick—shall　I　defer　the　rest　to　another　day？”
“No；　sir；　finish　it　now；　I　pity　you—I　do　earnestly　pity　you。”
“Pity；　Jane；　from　some　people　is　a　noxious　and　insulting　sort　of　tribute；　which　one　is　justified　in　hurling　back　in　the　teeth　of　those　who　offer　it；　but　that　is　the　sort　of　pity　native　to　callous；　selfish　hearts；　it　is　a　hybrid；　egotistical　pain　at　hearing　of　woes；　crossed　with　ignorant　contempt　for　those　who　have　endured　them。　But　that　is　not　your　pity；　Jane；　it　is　not　the　feeling　of　which　your　whole　face　is　full　at　this　moment—with　which　your　eyes　are　now　almost　overflowing—with　which　your　heart　is　heaving—with　which　your　hand　is　trembling　in　mine。　Your　pity；　my　darling；　is　the　suffering　mother　of　love：　its　anguish　is　the　very　natal　pang　of　the　divine　passion。　I　accept　it；　Jane；　let　the　daughter　have　free　advent—my　arms　wait　to　receive　her。”
“Now；　sir；　proceed；　what　did　you　do　when　you　found　she　was　mad？”
“Jane；　I　approached　the　verge　of　despair；　a　remnant　of　self…respect　was　all　that　intervened　between　me　and　the　gulf。　In　the　eyes　of　the　world；　I　was　doubtless　covered　with　grimy　dishonour；　but　I　resolved　to　be　clean　in　my　own　sight—and　to　the　last　I　repudiated　the　contamination　of　her　crimes；　and　wrenched　myself　from　connection　with　her　mental　defects。　Still；　society　associated　my　name　and　person　with　hers；　I　yet　saw　her　and　heard　her　daily：　something　of　her　breath　（faugh！）　mixed　with　the　air　I　breathed；　and　besides；　I　remembered　I　had　once　been　her　husband—that　recollection　was　then；　and　is　now；　inexpressibly　odious　to　me；　moreover；　I　knew　that　while　she　lived　I　could　never　be　the　husband　of　another　and　better　wife；　and；　though　five　years　my　senior　（her　family　and　her　father　had　lied　to　me　even　in　the　particular　of　her　age）；　she　was　likely　to　live　as　long　as　I；　being　as　robust　in　frame　as　she　was　infirm　in　mind。　Thus；　at　the　age　of　twenty…six；　I　was　hopeless。
“One　night　I　had　been　awakened　by　her　yells—（since　the　medical　men　had　pronounced　her　mad；　she　had；　of　course；　been　shut　up）—it　was　a　fiery　West　Indian　night；　one　of　the　description　that　frequently　precede　the　hurricanes　of　those　climates。　Being　unable　to　sleep　in　bed；　I　got　up　and　opened　the　window。　The　air　was　like　sulphur…　steams—I　could　find　no　refreshment　anye　buzzing　in　and　hummed　sullenly　round　the　room；　the　sea；　which　I　could　hear　from　thence；　rumbled　dull　like　an　earthquake—black　clouds　were　casting　up　over　it；　the　moon　was　setting　in　the　waves；　broad　and　red；　like　a　hot　cannon…ball—she　threw　her　last　bloody　glance　over　a　world　quivering　with　the　ferment　of　tempest。　I　was　physically　influenced　by　the　atmosphere　and　scene；　and　my　ears　were　filled　with　the　curses　the　maniac　still　shrieked　out；　wherein　she　momentarily　mingled　my　name　with　such　a　tone　of　demon…hate；　with　such　language！—no　professed　harlot　ever　had　a　fouler　vocabulary　than　she：　though　two　rooms　off；　I　heard　every　word—the　thin　partitions　of　the　West　India　house　opposing　but　slight　obstruction　to　her　wolfish　cries。
“‘This　life；’　said　I　at　last；　‘is　hell：　this　is　the　air—those　are　the　sounds　of　the　bottomless　pit！　I　have　a　right　to　deliver　myself　from　it　if　I　can。　The　sufferings　of　this　mortal　state　will　leave　me　with　the　heavy　flesh　that　now　cumbers　my　soul。　Of　the　fanatic’s　burning　eternity　I　have　no　fear：　there　is　not　a　future　state　worse　than　this　present　one—let　me　break　away；　and　go　home　to