Jane Eyre-第33章

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rusty　nail。”

he　had　deigned　an　explanation；　almost　an　apology；　and　i　did　not　feel　insensible　to　his　condescension；　and　would　not　seem　so。

“i　am　willing　to　amuse　you；　if　i　can；　sir—quite　willing；　but　i　cannot　introduce　a　topic；　because　how　do　i　know　what　will　interest　you？　ask　me　questions；　and　i　will　do　my　best　to　answer　them。”

“then；　in　the　first　place；　do　you　agree　with　me　that　i　have　a　right　to　be　a　little　masterful；　abrupt；　perhaps　exacting；　sometimes；　on　the　grounds　i　stated；　namely；　that　i　am　old　enough　to　be　your　father；　and　that　i　have　battled　through　a　varied　experience　with　many　men　of　many　nations；　and　roamed　over　half　the　globe；　while　you　have　lived　quietly　with　one　set　of　people　in　one　house？”

“do　as　you　please；　sir。”

“that　is　no　answer；　or　rather　it　is　a　very　irritating；　because　a　very　evasive　one。　reply　clearly。”

“i　don’t　think；　sir；　you　have　a　right　to　mand　me；　merely　because　you　are　older　than　i；　or　because　you　have　seen　more　of　the　world　than　i　have；　your　claim　to　superiority　depends　on　the　use　you　have　made　of　your　time　and　experience。”

“humph！　promptly　spoken。　but　i　won’t　allow　that；　seeing　that　it　would　never　suit　my　case；　as　i　have　made　an　indifferent；　not　to　say　a　bad；　use　of　both　advantages。　leaving　superiority　out　of　the　question；　then；　you　must　still　agree　to　receive　my　orders　now　and　then；　without　being　piqued　or　hurt　by　the　tone　of　mand。　will　you？”

i　smiled：　i　thought　to　myself　mr。　rochester　is　peculiar—he　seems　to　forget　that　he　pays　me　￡30　per　annum　for　receiving　his　orders。

“the　smile　is　very　well；”　said　he；　catching　instantly　the　passing　expression；　“but　speak　too。”

“i　was　thinking；　sir；　that　very　few　masters　would　trouble　themselves　to　inquire　whether　or　not　their　paid　subordinates　were　piqued　and　hurt　by　their　orders。”

“paid　subordinates！　what！　you　are　my　paid　subordinate；　are　you？　oh　yes；　i　had　forgotten　the　salary！　well　then；　on　that　mercenary　ground；　will　you　agree　to　let　me　hector　a　little？”

“no；　sir；　not　on　that　ground；　but；　on　the　ground　that　you　did　forget　it；　and　that　you　care　whether　or　not　a　dependent　is　fortable　in　his　dependency；　i　agree　heartily。”

“and　will　you　consent　to　dispense　with　a　great　many　conventional　forms　and　phrases；　without　thinking　that　the　omission　arises　from　insolence？”

“i　am　sure；　sir；　i　should　never　mistake　informality　for　insolence：　one　i　rather　like；　the　other　nothing　free…born　would　submit　to；　even　for　a　salary。”

“humbug！　most　things　free…born　will　submit　to　anything　for　a　salary；　therefore；　keep　to　yourself；　and　don’t　venture　on　generalities　of　which　you　are　intensely　ignorant。　however；　i　mentally　shake　hands　with　you　for　your　answer；　despite　its　inaccuracy；　and　as　much　for　the　manner　in　which　it　was　said；　as　for　the　substance　of　the　speech；　the　manner　was　frank　and　sincere；　one　does　not　often　see　such　a　manner：　no；　on　the　contrary；　affectation；　or　coldness；　or　stupid；　coarse…minded　misapprehension　of　one’s　meaning　are　the　usual　rewards　of　candour。　not　three　in　three　thousand　raw　school…girl…governesses　would　have　answered　me　as　you　have　just　done。　but　i　don’t　mean　to　flatter　you：　if　you　are　cast　in　a　different　mould　to　the　majority；　it　is　no　merit　of　yours：　nature　did　it。　and　then；　after　all；　i　go　too　fast　in　my　conclusions：　for　what　i　yet　know；　you　may　be　no　better　than　the　rest；　you　may　have　intolerable　defects　to　counterbalance　your　few　good　points。”

“and　so　may　you；”　i　thought。　my　eye　met　his　as　the　idea　crossed　my　mind：　he　seemed　to　read　the　glance；　answering　as　if　its　import　had　been　spoken　as　well　as　imagined—

“yes；　yes；　you　are　right；”　said　he；　“i　have　plenty　of　faults　of　my　own：　i　know　it；　and　i　don’t　wish　to　palliate　them；　i　assure　you。　god　wot　i　need　not　be　too　severe　about　others；　i　have　a　past　existence；　a　series　of　deeds；　a　colour　of　life　to　contemplate　within　my　own　breast；　which　might　well　call　my　sneers　and　censures　from　my　neighbours　to　myself。　i　started；　or　rather　（for　like　other　defaulters；　i　like　to　lay　half　the　blame　on　ill　fortune　and　adverse　circumstances）　was　thrust　on　to　a　wrong　tack　at　the　age　of　one…and…　twenty；　and　have　never　recovered　the　right　course　since：　but　i　might　have　been　very　different；　i　might　have　been　as　good　as　you—　wiser—almost　as　stainless。　i　envy　you　your　peace　of　mind；　your　clean　conscience；　your　unpolluted　memory。　little　girl；　a　memory　without　blot　or　contamination　must　be　an　exquisite　treasure—an　inexhaustible　source　of　pure　refreshment：　is　it　not？”

“how　was　your　memory　when　you　were　eighteen；　sir？”

“all　right　then；　limpid；　salubrious：　no　gush　of　bilge　water　had　turned　it　to　fetid　puddle。　i　was　your　equal　at　eighteen—quite　your　equal。　nature　meant　me　to　be；　on　the　whole；　a　good　man；　miss　eyre；　one　of　the　better　kind；　and　you　see　i　am　not　so。　you　would　say　you　don’t　see　it；　at　least　i　flatter　myself　i　read　as　much　in　your　eye　（beware；　by…the…bye；　what　you　express　with　that　organ；　i　am　quick　at　interpreting　its　language）。　then　take　my　word　for　it；—i　am　not　a　villain：　you　are　not　to　suppose　that—not　to　attribute　to　me　any　such　bad　eminence；　but；　owing；　i　verily　believe；　rather　to　circumstances　than　to　my　natural　bent；　i　am　a　trite　monplace　sinner；　hackneyed　in　all　the　poor　petty　dissipations　with　which　the　rich　and　worthless　try　to　put　on　life。　do　you　wonder　that　i　avow　this　to　you？　know；　that　in　the　course　of　your　future　life　you　will　often　find　yourself　elected　the　involuntary　confidant　of　your　acquaintances’　secrets：　people　will　instinctively　find　out；　as　i　have　done；　that　it　is　not　your　forte　to　tell　of　yourself；　but　to　listen　while　others　talk　of　themselves；　they　will　feel；　too；　that　you　listen　with　no　malevolent　scorn　of　their　indiscretion；　but　with　a　kind　of　innate　sympathy；　not　the　less　forting　and　encouraging　because　it　is　very　unobtrusive　in　its　manifestations。”

“how　do　you　know？—how　can　you　guess　all　this；　sir？”

“i　know　it　well；　therefore　i　proceed　almost　as　freely　as　if　i　were　writing　my　thoughts　in　a　diary。　you　would　say；　i　should　have　been　superior　to　circumstances；　so　i　should—so　i　should；　but　you　see　i　was　not。　when　fate　wronged　me；　i　had　not　the　wisdom　to　remain　cool：　i　turned　desperate；　then　i　degenerated。　now；　when　any　vicious　simpleton　excites　my　disgust　by　his　paltry　ribaldry；　i　cannot　flatter　myself　that　i　am　better　than　he：　i　am　forced　to　confess　that　he　and　i　are　on　a　level。　i　wish　i　had　stood　firm—god　knows　i　do！　dread　remorse　when　you　are　tempted　to　err；　miss　eyre；　remorse　is　the　poison　of　life。”

“repentance　is　said　to　be　its　cure；　sir。”

“it　is　not　its　cure。　reformation　may　be　its　cure；　and　i　could　reform—i　have　strength　yet　for　that—if—but　where　is　the　use　of　thinking　of　it；　hampered；　burdened；　cursed　as　i　am？　besides；　since　happiness　is　irrevocably　denied　me；　i　have　a　right　to　get　pleasure　out　of　life：　and　i　will　get　it；　cost　what　it　may。”

“then　you　will　degenerate　still　more；　sir。”

“possibly：　yet　why　should　i；　if　i　can　get　sweet；　fresh　pleasure？　and　i　may　get　it　as　sweet　and　fresh　as　the　wild　honey　the　bee　gathers　on　the　moor。”

“it　will　sting—it　will　taste　bitter；　sir。”

“how　do　you　know？—you　never　tried　it。　how　very　serious—how　very　solemn　you　look：　and　you　are　as　ignorant　of　the　matter　as　this　cameo　head”　（taking　one　from　the　mantelpiece）。　“you　have　no　right　to　preach　to　me；　you　neophyte；　that　have　not　passed　the　porch　of　life；　and　are　absolutely　unacquainted　with　its　mysteries。”

“i　only　remind　you　of　your　own　words；　sir：　you　said　error　brought　remorse；　and　you　pronounced　remorse　the　poison　of　existence。”

“and　who　talks　of　error　now？　i　scarcely　think　the　notion　that　flittered　across　my　brain　was　an　error。　i　believe　it　was　an　inspiration　rather　than　a　temptation：　it　was　very　genial；　very　soothing—i　know　that。　here　it　es　again！　it　is　no　devil；　i　assure　you；　or　if　it　be；　it　has　put　on　the　robes　of　an　angel　of　light。　i　think　i　must　admit　so　fair　a　guest　when　it　asks　entrance　to　my　heart。”

“distrust　it；　sir；　it　is　not　a　true　angel。”

“once　more；　how　do　you　know？　by　what　instinct　do　you　pretend　to　distinguish　between　a　fallen　seraph　of　the　abyss　and　a　messenger　from　the　eternal　throne—between　a　guide　and　a　seducer？”

“i　judged　by　your　countenance；　sir；　which　was　troubled　when　you　said　the　suggestion　had　returned　upon　you。　i　feel　sure　it　will　work　you　more　misery　if　you　listen　to　it。”

“not　at　all—it　bears　the　most　gracious　message　in　the　world：　for　the　rest；　you　are　not　my　conscience…keeper；　so　don’t　make　yourself　uneasy。　here；　e　in；　bonny　wanderer！”

he　said　this　as　if　he　spoke　to　a　vision；　viewless　to　any　eye　but　his　own；　then；　folding　his　arms；　which　he　had　half　extended；　on　his　chest；　he　seemed　to　enclose　in　their　embrace　the　invisible　being。

“now；”　he　continued；　again　addressing　me；　“i　have　received　the　pilgrim—a　disguised　deity；　as　i　verify　believe。　already　it　has　done　me　good：　my　heart　was　a　sort　of　charnel；　it　will　now　be　a　shrine。”

“to　speak　truth；　sir；　i　don’t　understand　you　at　all：　i　cannot　keep　up　the　conversation；　because　it　has　got　out　of　my　depth。　only　one　thing；　i　know：　you　said　you　were　not　as　good　as　you　should　like　to　be；　and　that　you　regretted　your　own　imperfection；—one　t