友情提示:如果本网页打开太慢或显示不完整,请尝试鼠标右键“刷新”本网页!阅读过程发现任何错误请告诉我们,谢谢!! 报告错误
八八书城 返回本书目录 我的书架 我的书签 TXT全本下载 进入书吧 加入书签

简爱(英文版)-第章

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页,按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页,按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部!
————未阅读完?加入书签已便下次继续阅读!



“Est…ce que ma robe va bien?” cried she; bounding forwards; “et mes souliers? et mes bas? Tenez; je crois que je vais danser!”
And spreading out her dress; she chasséed across the room till; having reached Mr。 Rochester; she wheeled lightly round before him on tip…toe; then dropped on one knee at his feet; exclaiming—
“Monsieur; je vous remercie mille fois de votre bonté;” then rising; she added; “C’est me cela que maman faisait; n’est…ce pas; monsieur?”
“Pre…cise…ly!” was the answer; “and; ‘me cela;’ she charmed my English gold out of my British breeches’ pocket。 I have been green; too; Miss Eyre;—ay; grass green: not a more vernal tint freshens you now than once freshened me。 My Spring is gone; however; but it has left me that French floweret on my hands; which; in some moods; I would fain be rid of。 Not valuing now the root whence it sprang; having found that it was of a sort which nothing but gold dust could manure; I have but half a liking to the blossom; especially when it looks so artificial as just now。 I keep it and rear it rather on the Roman Catholic principle of expiating numerous sins; great or small; by one good work。 I’ll explain all this some day。 Good… night。”
Chapter 15
Mr。 Rochester did; on a future occasion; explain it。 It was one afternoon; when he chanced to meet me and Adèle in the grounds: and while she played with Pilot and her shuttlecock; he asked me to walk up and down a long beech avenue within sight of her。
He then said that she was the daughter of a French opera…dancer; Céline Varens; towards whom he had once cherished what he called a “grande passion。” This passion Céline had professed to return with even superior ardour。 He thought himself her idol; ugly as he was: he believed; as he said; that she preferred his “taille d’athlète” to the elegance of the Apollo Belvidere。
“And; Miss Eyre; so much was I flattered by this preference of the Gallic sylph for her British gnome; that I installed her in an hotel; gave her a plete establishment of servants; a carriage; cashmeres; diamonds; dentelles; &c。 In short; I began the process of ruining myself in the received style; like any other spoony。 I had not; it seems; the originality to chalk out a new road to shame and destruction; but trode the old track with stupid exactness not to deviate an inch from the beaten centre。 I had—as I deserved to have—the fate of all other spoonies。 Happening to call one evening when Céline did not expect me; I found her out; but it was a warm night; and I was tired with strolling through Paris; so I sat down in her boudoir; happy to breathe the air consecrated so lately by her presence。 No;—I exaggerate; I never thought there was any consecrating virtue about her: it was rather a sort of pastille perfume she had left; a scent of musk and amber; than an odour of sanctity。 I was just beginning to stifle with the fumes of conservatory flowers and sprinkled essences; when I bethought myself to open the window and step out on to the balcony。 It was moonlight and gaslight besides; and very still and serene。 The balcony was furnished with a chair or two; I sat down; and took out a cigar;—I will take one now; if you will excuse me。”
Here ensued a pause; filled up by the producing and lighting of a cigar; having placed it to his lips and breathed a trail of Havannah incense on the freezing and sunless air; he went on—
“I liked bonbons too in those days; Miss Eyre; and I was croquant— (overlook the barbarism)—croquant chocolate fits; and smoking alternately; watching meantime the equipages that rolled along the fashionable streets towards the neighbouring opera…house; when in an elegant close carriage drawn by a beautiful pair of English horses; and distinctly seen in the brilliant city…night; I recognised the ‘voiture’ I had given Céline。 She was returning: of course my heart thumped with impatience against the iron rails I leant upon。 The carriage stopped; as I had expected; at the hotel door; my flame (that is the very word for an opera inamorata) alighted: though muffed in a cloak—an unnecessary encumbrance; by…the…bye; on so warm a June evening—I knew her instantly by her little foot; seen peeping from the skirt of her dress; as she skipped from the carriage…step。 Bending over the balcony; I was about to murmur ‘Mon ange’—in a tone; of course; which should be audible to the ear of love alone—when a figure jumped from the carriage after her; cloaked also; but that was a spurred heel which had rung on the pavement; and that was a hatted head which now passed under the arched porte cochère of the hotel。
“You never felt jealousy; did you; Miss Eyre? Of course not: I need not ask you; because you never felt love。 You have both sentiments yet to experience: your soul sleeps; the shock is yet to be given which shall waken it。 You think all existence lapses in as quiet a flow as that in which your youth has hitherto slid away。 Floating on with closed eyes and muffled ears; you neither see the rocks bristling not far off in the bed of the flood; nor hear the breakers boil at their base。 But I tell you—and you may mark my words—you will e some day to a craggy pass in the channel; where the whole of life’s stream will be broken up into whirl and tumult; foam and noise: either you will be dashed to atoms on crag points; or lifted up and borne on by some master…wave into a calmer current—as I am now。
“I like this day; I like that sky of steel; I like the sternness and stillness of the world under this frost。 I like Thornfield; its antiquity; its retirement; its old crow…trees and thorn…trees; its grey facade; and lines of dark windows reflecting that metal welkin: and yet how long have I abhorred the very thought of it; shunned it like a great plague…house? How I do still abhor —”
He ground his teeth and was silent: he arrested his step and struck his boot against the hard ground。 Some hated thought seemed to have him in its grip; and to hold him so tightly that he could not advance。
We were ascending the avenue when he thus paused; the hall was before us。 Lifting his eye to its battlements; he cast over them a glare such as I never saw before or since。 Pain; shame;
返回目录 上一页 下一页 回到顶部 0 0
未阅读完?加入书签已便下次继续阅读!
温馨提示: 温看小说的同时发表评论,说出自己的看法和其它小伙伴们分享也不错哦!发表书评还可以获得积分和经验奖励,认真写原创书评 被采纳为精评可以获得大量金币、积分和经验奖励哦!