‘Oh, I am so sick of the young men of the present day!’ exclaimed she, rattling away at the instrument. ‘Poor, puny things, not fit to stir a step beyond papa’s park gates: nor to go even so far without mama’s permission and guardianship! Creatures so absorbed in care about their pretty faces, and their white hands, and their small feet; as if a man had anything to do with beauty! As if loveliness were not the special prerogative of woman- her legitimate appanage and heritage! I grant an ugly woman is a blot on the fair face of creation; but as to the gentlemen, let them be solicitous to possess only strength and valour: let their motto be:- Hunt, shoot, and fight: the rest is not worth a fillip. Such should be my device, were I a man.’
‘Whenever I marry,’ she continued after a pause which none interrupted, ‘I am resolved my husband shall not be a rival, but a foil to me. I will suffer no competitor near the throne; I shall exact an undivided homage: his devotions shall not be shared between me and the shape he sees in his mirror. Mr. Rochester, now sing, and I will play for you.’
‘I am all obedience,’ was the response.
‘Here then is a Corsair-song. Know that I doat on Corsairs; and for that reason, sing it con spirito.’
‘Commands from Miss Ingram’s lips would put spirit into a mug of milk and water.’
‘Take care, then: if you don’t please me, I will shame you by showing how such things should be done.’
‘That is offering a premium on incapacity: I shall now endeavour to fail.’
‘Gardez-vous en bien! If you err wilfully, I shall devise a proportionate punishment.’
‘Miss Ingram ought to be clement, for she has it in her power to inflict a chastisement beyond mortal endurance.’
‘Ha! explain!’ commanded the lady.
‘Pardon me, madam: no need of explanation; your own fine sense must inform you that one of your frowns would be a sufficient substitute for capital punishment.’
‘Sing!’ said she, and again touching the piano, she commenced an accompaniment in spirited style.
‘Now is my time to slip away,’ thought I: but the tones that then severed the air arrested me. Mrs. Fairfax had said Mr. Rochester possessed a fine voice: he did- a mellow, powerful bass, into which he threw his own feeling, his own force: finding a way through the ear to the heart, and there waking sensation strangely. I waited till the last deep and full vibration had expired- till the tide of talk, checked an instant, had resumed its flow; I then quitted my sheltered corner and made my exit by the side-door, which was fortunately near. Thence a narrow passage led into the hall: in crossing it, I perceived my sandal was loose; I stopped to tie it, kneeling down for that purpose on the mat at the foot of the staircase. I heard the dining-room door unclose; a gentleman came out; rising hastily, I stood face to face with him: it was Mr. Rochester.
‘How do you do?’ he asked.
‘I am very well, sir.’
‘Why did you not come and speak to me in the room?’
I thought I might have retorted the question on him who put it: but I would not take that freedom. I answered-
‘I did not wish to disturb you, as you seemed engaged, sir.’
‘What have you been doing during my absence?’
‘Nothing particular; teaching Adele as usual.’
‘And getting a good deal paler than you were- as I saw at first sight. What is the matter?’
‘Nothing at all, sir.’
‘Did you take any cold that night you half drowned me?’
‘Not the least.’
‘Return to the drawing-room: you are deserting too early.’
‘I am tired, sir.’
He looked at me for a minute.
‘And a little depressed,’ he said. ‘What about? Tell me.’
‘Nothing- nothing, sir. I am not depressed.’
‘But I affirm that you are: so much depressed that a few more words would bring tears to your eyes- indeed, they are there now, shining and swimming; and a bead has slipped from the lash and fallen on to the flag. If I had time, and was not in mortal dread of some prating prig of a servant passing, I would know what all this means. Well, to-night I excuse you; but understand that so long as my visitors stay, I expect you to appear in the drawing-room every evening; it is my wish; don’t neglect it. Now go, and send Sophie for Adele. Good-night, my-’ He stopped, bit his lip, and abruptly left me.
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本文作者：简爱
原文链接：Jane Eyre-Chapter 17
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