FIFTH GRADE CLASSROOM ANNOUNCEMENT :

"Jane Eyre Chpt 37 (part 2)"

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. But no hint to that effect escaping him and his countenance becoming more overcast(buio), I suddenly remembered that I might have been all wrong, and was perhaps playing the fool unwittingly; and I began gently to withdraw myself from his arms—but he eagerly snatched me closer.“No—no—Jane; you must not go. No—I have touched you, heard you, felt the comfort of your presence—the sweetness of your consolation: I cannot give up these joys. I have little left in myself—I must have you. The world may laugh—may call me absurd, selfish—but it does not signify. My very soul demands you: it will be satisfied, or it will take deadly vengeance on its frame.”“Well, sir, I will stay with you: I have said so.” “Yes—but you understand one thing by staying with me; and I understand another. You, perhaps, could make up your mind to be about my hand and chair—to wait on me as a kind little nurse (for you have an affectionate heart and a generous spirit, which prompt you to make sacrifices for those you pity), and that ought to suffice for me no doubt. I suppose I should now entertain none but fatherly feelings for you: do you think so? Come—tell me.” “I will think what you like, sir: I am content to be only your nurse, if you think it better.” “But you cannot always be my nurse, Janet: you are young—you must marry one day.” “I don’t care about being married.” “You should care, Janet: if I were what I once was, I would try to make you care—but—a sightless block!” He relapsed again into gloom. I, on the contrary, became more cheerful, and took fresh courage: these last words gave me an insight as to where the difficulty lay; and as it was no difficulty with me, I felt quite relieved from my previous embarrassment. I resumed a livelier vein of conversation.“It is time someone undertook to rehumanise you,” said I, parting his thick and long uncut locks; “for I see you are being metamorphosed into a lion, or something of that sort(..)“On this arm, I have neither hand nor nails,” he said, drawing the mutilated limb from his breast, and showing it to me. “It is a mere stump(ceppo)—a ghastly sight! Don’t you think so, Jane?”“It is a pity to see it; and a pity to see your eyes—and the scar of fire on your forehead: and the worst of it is, one is in danger of loving you too well for all this; and making too much of you.”“I thought you would be revolted, Jane, when you saw my arm, and my cicatrised visage.” “Did you? Don’t tell me so—lest I should say something disparaging(dispregiativo) to your judgment. Now, let me leave you an instant, to make a better fire, and have the hearth swept up. Can you tell when there is a good fire?”“Yes; with the right eye I see a glow—a ruddy haze(foschia rossastra).” “And you see the candles?” “Very dimly—each is a luminous cloud.”“Can you see me?” “No, my fairy: but I am only too thankful to hear and feel you.”“When do you take supper?”“I never take supper.” “But you shall have some to-night. I am hungry: so are you, I daresay, only you forget.”
Summoning Mary, I soon had the room in more cheerful order: I prepared him, likewise, a comfortable repast. My spirits were excited, and with pleasure and ease I talked to him during supper, and for a long time after(….)



CHARLOTTE BRONTE            




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