第143页
《简·爱(英文版)》章节:第143页,宠文网网友提供全文无弹窗免费在线阅读。!
manifestations of character- watched them closely, keenly, shrewdly.
Yes; the future bridegroom, Mr. Rochester himself, exercised over
his intended a ceaseless surveillance; and it was from this
sagacity- this guardedness of his- this perfect, clear consciousness
of his fair one's defects- this obvious absence of passion in his
sentiments towards her, that my ever-torturing pain arose.
I saw he was going to marry her, for family, perhaps political
reasons, because her rank and connections suited him; I felt he had
not given her his love, and that her qualifications were ill adapted
to win from him that treasure. This was the point- this was where
the nerve was touched and teased- this was where the fever was
sustained and fed: she could not charm him.
If she had managed the victory at once, and he had yielded and
sincerely laid his heart at her feet, I should have covered my face,
turned to the wall, and (figuratively) have died to them. If Miss
Ingram had been a good and noble woman, endowed with force, fervour,
kindness, sense, I should have had one vital struggle with two tigers-
jealousy and despair: then, my heart torn out and devoured, I should
have admired her- acknowledged her excellence, and been quiet for
the rest of my days: and the more absolute her superiority, the deeper
would have been my admiration- the more truly tranquil my
quiescence. But as matters really stood, to watch Miss Ingram's
efforts at fascinating Mr. Rochester, to witness their repeated
failure- herself unconscious that they did fail; vainly fancying
that each shaft launched hit the mark, and infatuatedly pluming
herself on success, when her pride and self-complacency repelled
further and further what she wished to allure- to witness this, was to
be at once under ceaseless excitation and ruthless restraint.
Because, when she failed, I saw how she might have succeeded.
Arrows that continually glanced off from Mr. Rochester's breast and
fell harmless at his feet, might, I knew, if shot by a surer hand,
have quivered keen in his proud heart- have called love into his stern
eye, and softness into his sardonic face; or, better still, without
weapons a silent conquest might have been won.
'Why can she not influence him more, when she is privileged to draw
so near to him?' I asked myself. 'Surely she cannot truly like him, or
not like him with true affection! If she did, she need not coin her
smiles so lavishly, flash her glances so unremittingly, manufacture
airs so elaborate, graces so multitudinous. It seems to me that she
might, by merely sitting quietly at his side, saying little and
looking less, get nigher his heart. I have seen in his face a far
different expression from that which hardens it now while she is so
vivaciously accosting him; but then it came of itself: it was not
elicited by meretricious arts and calculated manoeuvres; and one had
but to accept it- to answer what he asked without pretension, to