[Comprehensive Classics] Traveled all over Europe to demolish CP

Chapter28 Poor Mr. Rochester!

November and December passed by with little waves, and Jane's third novel "La Traviata" was getting better and better. It was successfully serialized in the "Lancashire Herald", which aroused countless lovers. The denunciation of "detailed description of depraved life", the admiration for the heroine's "noble soul", and the expectation of "breaking free from fate and rising up to resist".

Like "Jane Eyre", this famous book read many years ago left a deep impression on Jane's heart. Although the names, place names and sentences are almost forgotten, the plot of the story is firmly engraved in her heart.

Plagiarism is guilty QAQ..even plagiarizing the synopsis..

Because the owner of Thornfield stayed at home for an uncharacteristically long time, people in the old house became cautious in every move.There was more noise and movement, and conversations echoed in the previously peaceful corridors.What's more, every order of the master - even the most rude and capricious one - has aroused great attention from the top to the bottom: he is the nerve center of Thornfield, and his presence makes everyone in the family happy. Being active makes this vampire castle-like old house less miserable and less creepy-at least Jane will no longer have "a group of bats will hit her face when she walks in."

In the next few days, Jane seldom saw Mr. Rochester.

In the morning he seemed busy with business, and in the afternoon he received visiting gentlemen from Millcote or the vicinity, who sometimes stayed to dine with him.He often went out on horseback, and often did not come back until late at night.

During this period, Mr. Rochester gave Jane a severe cold shoulder, and his contact with her was limited to chance encounters in the hall, on the stairs, or in the corridor.Sometimes he walks past Jane with arrogance, indifference and arrogance (although his height is not enough to express his attitude), nodding his head from a distance or giving a cold glance, admitting that Jane is a living creature, and sometimes very A gentleman with an amiable bow and smile.

If Jane hadn't been well aware of Mr. Rochester's eccentric, unpredictable, and capricious character, she would almost have thought that the ups and downs of the hero's emotions were intentional.

Although it is a great loss in life not to be able to molest the bitter and bitter Mr. Rochester, but since the other party is not a vegetarian and often speaks sharp and witty words like pearls, the two fight wits and bravery for a long time. Jane is very satisfied with the quiet period and buffer period.

Spring is here, and it's time for animals to mate again (heavy fog).

Thornfield wakes up because of the long-term existence of the male host, and the eager atmosphere infects little Adele, and her heart flies to the clouds.

In order to sharpen her character and stabilize her mind, Jane decides to teach Adele to paint - although her painting skills are not commendable compared with the original resident Jane Eyre.

"Adele, how do you know you hate watercolor when you haven't tried it?" Jane laughed, shoving the reluctant students down the corridor leading to the stairs.

"I will definitely hate drawing." The little girl clutched her skirt and said like a mosquito, "I'm sure I can't draw well, I can't draw well, okay..."

"That's not sure, unless we try it outside." Jane patted her head, "If you keep saying 'bad painting', the god of art will hear your call and really stay away from you. Come with me, honey."

Jane held the little girl holding a charcoal pencil and sat down under a very old oak tree. After teaching the most basic painting skills, Adele was free to create.

Jane encouraged: "Draw whatever you want, Adele, birds flying in the sky, dogs running on the ground, fish swimming in the water, worms crawling in the soil...you can draw whatever you want."

After the students were settled, Jane looked at Thornfield from where she was sitting, and there were trees and shrubs growing on the slightly sloping slope.

The leaves are just emerging, giving hints of emerald to the gray and brown covered ground.The tangled branches are in sharp contrast with Thornfield's bare Gothic appearance, just like the old otaku master's stern, rough, angular appearance and his kind, soft and fragile heart-although so far, Jane has not yet discovered Mr. Rochester is so weak.

Meeting different people and seeing different scenery is the purpose of her short stay.

"I'm done, Janet!" Adele's long hair was messed up in the wet morning wind, and she waved the sketch paper in her hand excitedly, with a look of asking for credit.

Jane came up to her like a stream of kindness, and was surprised to see the grayness.

"What is this?" She pointed to the paper with half blank and half black.

"This is the sky, this is the ground of Thornfield!"

"Then why did you name the painting 'The Bug'?"

"Because the bugs are sleeping underground, get ready to get up!" Adele announced triumphantly.

Are you naturally dull or dark-hearted, Adele?

One January afternoon Mrs. Fairfax came to ask Jane for leave when Adele had a cold.

Jane cooked a pot of soup for the little girl and told her to drink it while it was hot.

It was a cold but rare sunny day, so she decided to take a vacation for herself and go to Haicun on horseback.Mrs. Fairfax had just finished writing a letter, which she handed to Jane.

The latitude of Britain is very high, and at three o'clock in the afternoon, the sky is getting dark, the sun is low, and the sun is pale.She had to go early and return early, otherwise, after sunset, she would be completely insane and completely blind.

After posting letters to Hay Village, Jane walked freely along the path, immersing herself in the beauty and joy of the early spring scenery.

The weather is very cold, but the wind is too gentle. Only by looking up at the slight movement of the white clouds in the sky can one realize the existence of the wind.The leafless hawthorns and shrubs were as silent as the rounded and worn white stones in the middle of the path.A few tawny birds jumped up and down by the hedge, their round bodies and round eyes made Jane's heart soft.

...By the time she found out that the sun was setting and the moon was rising, it was too late.

Jane Can’t tell the direction without looking at the sun. Bennet sadly followed the footsteps of the moon, watching it change from cloud-like translucent paleness to cheese-like light yellow and bright, and watching the thin clouds gradually rising and spreading in the forest. Fog, sorrow against the stream: which way shall I go to Thornfield?

In the silence, Jane was riding on the horse, looking up at the sky, feeling at a loss, panicked and sad.

At this time, a heavy voice broke through the subtle sound of gurgling water and rustling wind, and it became clearer and clearer from far to near.Before Jane could call for help, she found a black horse rushing in front of her. The rider on the horse was shocked when he saw the presence of a man and a horse in front of him. There was a sound of something slipping, a cry of "hell!" and the sound of tumbling to the ground. Both the man and the horse fell to the ground, unable to get up on the slippery thin ice layer in the middle of the road.

A large black and white dog came rushing forward from behind, and seeing his master in distress, and hearing the moaning of the horse, he barked wildly, echoing from the mountains in the twilight.

"Shut up, Pilot!" the rider yelled angrily, stooping down and touching his feet and legs, as if to test whether they were all right.It was obvious that some part was in great pain, and he cursed and staggered towards the roadside steps.

"I'm really sorry, Mr. Rochester." Jane, who restrained the mount in time and was safe and sound, got off the horse, apologized dumbfounded, and stroked Pilot's big head.

Mr. Rochester, you are really unlucky... Whether it is Jane Eyre or Jane Bennet, you can fall off the horse and sprain your foot...

"I'm starting to look forward to our next encounter." Mr. Rochester moaned, his voice was rough, annoyed and funny, "in order to test how far I can be unlucky."

He felt that he should not be messed with at this moment, so he recommended himself to get close to the black horse Maeslow who fell on the ice. Finally standing up again, she lowered her eyebrows and obeyed obediently in front of Jane who was full of aura.

She led Maslow to the side of Mr. Rochester who was lying down and shot, and said submissively and obediently than Maeslow: "Can you still ride the horse, sir?"

"My bones are not broken." He said with a livid face and a gloomy expression. He stood up with difficulty while supporting Jane's shoulders, grabbed the bridle and jumped onto the saddle.

He loosened his clenched lower lip, but couldn't keep himself from gnashing his teeth and said: "Can you explain to me why you rode a horse in the forest? Are you planning to go with your companion—— Dwarves and goblins—meet to play tricks on innocent passers-by and travelers?"

"The dwarves and goblins left your territory hundreds of years ago, sir, this place is neither desolate nor wild enough." Jane blinked innocently, "I just sent a letter from Sea Village, and I am going back to Thornfield. "

"Then please explain why you are facing in the opposite direction to Thornfield?" Mr. Rochester roared angrily, and Pilot also called out, "Shut up, Pilot!"

After the roots of her ears cleared up, Jane pointed to the dark blue sky above her head more innocently, and said with lowered eyebrows, "It's getting dark, I'm lost."

"Shit! I actually forgot that Miss Jane Bennet is a well-known street idiot! She really deserves her reputation!" Mr. Rochester said through gritted teeth, a row of neat and gleaming teeth gleamed behind his straight lips, as if the next moment It was as if he wanted to pounce on her and tear her to pieces.

"Before that, you have seen me get lost three times, Mr. Rochester."

"You..." He was so angry that all five internal organs burned and all seven apertures burst into flames, "Stop talking nonsense, get on your horse quickly, and come home with me!"

The disabled male host rides away, and the governess follows behind, trying to reduce the sense of existence.

When they finally arrived at Thornfield after a long (fog) long (fog) trek (fog), the whole old house was in a mess: Mr. Rochester returned without saying goodbye again and sprained his foot.

Jane went back to her room to comb her hair—she managed to top a chicken coop while galloping her horse—after going downstairs for dinner, she received an invitation from Mrs. "Invitation" is rather a straightforward order.

Jane shrugged her shoulders and expressed her deep sympathy and sympathy to Mr. Edward Masochist Rochester. Then she took the candle and walked to Mr. Rochester's lounge. He was around--so that the unflattering, critical Mr. Rochester could look at her without turning his head.

The red flames in the fireplace crackled, trying to spread red light into the shadows in every corner of the lounge.A rare and interesting scene is unfolding:

Sitting far away from the fireplace was an old woman with a kind and attentive look. Her skirt was covered with gray ribbons and lace trims, a pair of thin-rimmed glasses was on her nose, and her hands and arms were full of yarn.She sat in the shadow by the window, with a small candle at hand so that she could see clearly.Beside the fire, a big black and white dog was lying on its stomach. Although it was restless, it tried its best to stay quietly.It gazes at the orange and red flames of the fire, and seems to be attracted by the voluptuous ballet of flames in the transcript.On the other side of the fireplace, a middle-aged man was sitting hidden in the shadows. His face was stern and severe, and his shape seemed strange in the jumping firelight; front; elbows resting on a huge burgundy easy chair, feet cushioned.He looked nothing like the hero of a Victorian novel, nothing, he looked older, darker, angrier.The look in his dark eyes is vivid and piercing, adding danger and depth to his personality.There is no doubt that there is fire and passion in his heart-such a person can do harm to the world and can do good.But if he just sat quietly like this, he looked extremely stubborn-stern and bitter.

He sat like a statue, neither speaking nor moving, as if lost in the depths of his tormenting thoughts.Apparently he was one of countless people who have been teased and hurt by fate.

The man waved a piece of sketch paper, and said abruptly: "It is said that this is your masterpiece, is that true, Miss Bennet?"

"You're absolutely right." Jane lowered her eyelids and looked at him through her eyelashes.

"Ah, here it is again, that pitiful gaze that hides aggressiveness! This gaze that subconsciously isolates itself from the harm it imagined!" Mr. Rochester said with a strange aria, "Since we There's been a happy agreement on manners, so I don't have to change my habits for the sake of the newcomer. You see, your sketches are abysmal - like any English schoolgirl, perhaps more so than some Strong, but utterly unremarkable, never teach Adele to paint again. Now I need to test your other talents. Can you play the piano?"

"Yes—of course, only a little."

"The expected answer. Then go to the library, take your candle, leave the door open, sit at the piano, and play a piece."

Jane was in a good mood, and walked away as instructed, sat down in front of the small rosewood piano in the library, and played a lively serenade.

"Enough!" A few minutes later, the male master couldn't bear it and shouted, "You play fairly well, and I know that you are in a good mood today, but it doesn't mean that I want to hear the meaning of gloating from the music!"

Oops, it was debunked...

Jane silently closed the piano and walked back.

Mr. Rochester knocked on the armrest impatiently, and said condescendingly: "I checked Adele's homework just now and found that she has made great progress. She is neither smart nor talented. You must have put a lot of thought into her. "

Your ankle is sprained, and Adele is lying in bed with a cold...how on earth did you check your homework!

Jane pursed her lips, and the steamed stuffed bun was overwhelmed.She said righteously: "For teachers, every child is an angel, and every child has unusual shining points that are worth discovering. Adele is the best, sir, please don't regard her as your teacher. burden."

"Burden? You chose the most accurate word! Although my income of [-] pounds a year is not enough to support a bunch of Parisian chicks."

Eight thousand pounds a year... well, between Mr Darcy and Mr Bingley.

Mr. Rochester continued to say in a deep and ironic tone: "About 10 minutes ago, Adele, who was sick and lying in bed, couldn't wait to get up, and took out a small pink silk blouse from the box. When she opened it, her face was full of joy. Kitsch ran in her blood, melted in her brain, settled in her bones. 'Ilfautqueje I'essaie!' she cried, 'etaIinstantmeme!' and she rushed out of the room. She sent me China, ivory, and wax for her, she would have come in again if Mrs Fairfax hadn't pushed her back to bed, I know what I'd see - miniature of Celina Warren, Curtain Turn on, what she looks like when she appears on the stage."

"Isn't it wrong to love beauty, to pursue beauty, to appreciate beauty, sir?" said Jane disapprovingly, "of course I agree that knowledge and wisdom are noble—but not nobler than beauty. Wise mind, deep thought It is indeed worthy of admiration and admiration, but the dignified face and elegant posture are also super amazing! Beauty is more rare than wisdom. Through acquired learning and upbringing, anyone can have a general level of wisdom, but beauty, beauty is the grace of creation Beloved, why do you belittle beauty, which excites the deepest sighs and passions of the senses and soul?"

"Heretics and nonsense! Outer beauty fades quickly, only inner beauty is eternal. Of course, if the two are combined, they are perfect and perfect, but I don't take it from my venerable French mistress. I see a perfect fusion."

"Have you been deceived by a woman, Mr. Rochester? Have you been deceived by a woman?" Jane said clearly.

Mr. Rochester choked, with an indignant look of "why did you interrupt my lyric".He took a puff of his cigar angrily, exhaled a smoke ring, and said with a sneering smile: "Your insight is very keen, Miss Bennet. There is nothing Celina Warren likes more than taking the pound from my bank account." cheated out of the British pocket."

"But it's not Adele's fault, sir."

"Do you think this little French flower is God's blessing to me? My God, Miss Bennet, you don't understand what I have been through! I took it and raised it, mostly according to the teachings of the Roman Catholic Church, with Do a good deed to atone for countless sins, big and small." He turned his face away, staring at the beating fire, and Jane swore that from that face that became like granite covered with ice, because of memories and Painful and twisted.

"Yes, sir, I won't pretend to understand either, because I don't want to overestimate my own abilities, nor do I want to underestimate the pain of others." Jane's voice and eyes softened, as if they had turned into warm hands, Wrapped in warm spring breeze, caressing the tired heart of the hero.

"Are you willing to listen to me explain all this, are you willing to listen to me explain my pain?" Mr. Rochester leaned against the back of the easy chair, his big dark hands hung down from the armrests, trembling slightly nervously.

"Would like to hear more about it, sir."

Mr. Rochester did not rush to speak, he turned to the young woman beside him, as if he was looking at her for the first time this evening, his tone was no longer harsh and full of authority.

He told Jane—as she had long read from "Jane Eyre"—that Adele was the daughter of the French opera singer Céline Vallon, whom he had once harbored a so-called "Fiery Passion".For this kind of love, Celina declared that she would repay it with more passionate love.

"Miss Bennet, I was so flattered that this French beauty should be in love with an English dwarf, that I installed her in a house in the city, furnished her with a full suite of servants and carriage, and gave her a cashmere shawl. , jewels, diamonds, lace, etc. In short, like any infatuated person, I set out to destroy myself in worldly ways. I seem to lack originality, not to embark on a new path to shame and destruction, but foolishly Strictly following the old ways, not stepping in the footsteps of others. I met—and I deserved—the same fate as all the other crazy fools.” He paused, pointed to the newspaper on the coffee table, and said, “I thought Celina Unlike those courtesans, I thought she'd be like the one in the Lancashire Herald lately—do you read the papers, Miss Bennet? There's a novel called La Traviata recently in the It was serialized in the Herald, and I thought Celina was a Marguerite-style noble, kind-hearted woman."

Jane silently gave Dumas 32 likes in her heart.

The story is very simple and clichéd, common in the upper class, but it is full of ups and downs told by Mr. Rochester. It is nothing more than that Celina enjoys the material life he provides, but enjoys a more intimate relationship with another man... You know.

"I like days like today, the iron-gray sky, the solemn world in the cold, Thornfield, its quaintness, its remoteness, its old trees and thorns where crows roost, its gray facade, Its rows of dark windows reflecting the gray sky. Yet through the ages I have loathed the thought of it, and shunned it like a plague-infested place: I loathe it even now . . . After my French showgirl, I still haven't given up on the childish ideal of love. I hope to find a kind, pure, and sincere angel, but I often meet under the pomegranate skirt of the countess, heiress, and high-society lady. Bloodshed. I do not find humility and kindness in their pretty faces, nor frankness and elegance in their shallow hearts."

He gritted his teeth and remained silent.A certain loathing seized him, clutched him in his hands, turned his face livid, and made the words he wanted to say stuck in his throat.

Mr. Rochester looked up, with his back to the fire, but flames burned in his eyes.Pain, shame, rage, anxiety, nausea, hatred... Countless indistinguishable negative emotions, in his dilated pupils, were engaged in a struggle that made him tremble.

Jane was silent.

A sentence from "Jane Eyre" that I read many years ago became clear in an instant:

"Out of greed, my father decided to combine his property and could not bear to divide it, leaving me a considerable part. He decided that everything should belong to my brother Roland, but he couldn't bear to have my son become a pauper. Settle my livelihood through a rich marriage..."

"He found me a mate not long after. He had an old acquaintance named Mr. Mason, a West Indian planter and merchant. He made inquiries and was sure that Mr. Mason had a very large family. He found that Mr. Mason had a pair of children, and knowing that he could and would give his daughter £[-], was enough. I was sent off to Jamaica as soon as I left college, to marry a bride who had already wooed me..."

"My senses were aroused, and out of childishness and inexperience, I thought I was in love with her. Foolish contests in society, lust, recklessness and blindness in youth, would make one do anything stupid I got it. Her relatives encouraged me; rivals provoked me; she came to seduce me. So I hardly knew how it happened, and the marriage was settled..."

"I never saw the bride's mother, and I thought she was dead. But as soon as the honeymoon was over, I realized I was mistaken. She was just crazy and locked up in a madhouse. My wife also has a younger brother who is a bad boy. Talking idiots...my father and my brother Roland knew about the situation, but they only thought of thirty thousand pounds, and they were conspiring to set me up..."

"During this time my brother died, and four years later my father died. I have since been rich enough--and terribly poor at the same time. The grossest, dirtiest, most despicable attributes I have ever seen are the same as my Connected, called a part of me by law and society. And I'm trying to get rid of it through any legal process, because at this time the doctors found that my wife was crazy-her insolence had prematurely ripened the seeds of madness... "

"What have I done, Jane? I have made myself an invisible man. Where have I been? I wandered like a marsh elf to the Continent, winding through all the Country. I made up my mind to find a wonderful and intelligent woman whom I could love, in contrast to the shrew I had left at Thornfield - I should be considered free to love and be loved, which seems to me absolutely reasonable."

"For ten years I wandered, first in the capital of one country, then in another. Sometimes in St. Petersburg, more often in Paris, occasionally in Rome, Naples and Florence. Because I had money and Grandfather's masterpiece passport, I can choose my own social field, no circle will refuse me. I am looking for my ideal woman, among the ladies of England, among the countesses of France, among the signoras of Italy and the Grafinner of Germany In the middle. I can't find her..."

The sentences were so clear, as if he had spoken them to her himself.

During Mr. Rochester's unprecedentedly intense and crucial engagement, Jane said in an erratic, almost siren-song voice: "Need me to comfort you, Mr. Rochester?"

He stared at her, and after a long time, he moved his neck stiffly, which seemed to be a slight nod.

Jane looked back at him fearlessly.

She said: "There is honor and disgrace when there is enough food and clothing, Mr. Rochester, a person like you who has never experienced how to find the next meal will not understand that when there is not enough food and clothing, all noble sentiments will disappear. Or rather, you never tried to understand."

Jane paused, and pressed her slender and white fingers on her petal-like lips, signaling the hostess not to interrupt her in a hurry.In a calm and deep voice, she said like a mother telling a bedtime story to her child: "If you don't steal, cheat, or rob, you won't get your next meal; Sleeping on the streets in ragged clothes; if the daughters are not allowed to catch a wealthy husband, the ladies who are heavily in debt will sell their properties and become laundry girls; Many men covet and hurt...

Mr. Rochester, your moral standards are set too high, no wonder you are disappointed in this world, no wonder you feel that the world owes you. "

In this world, there are already people walking in the universe, and the starry sky is their last grave.In this world, some people have eaten their own children because of hunger, or exchanged their children for others to eat.In contrast, your marital and moral troubles are as humble as Shi Kelang can't find the right taste of dung balls.

Of course, she would not tell Mr. Rochester that Walking in the Starry Sky and the dung beetle were looking for dung balls.

Mr. Rochester turned his head away so that Jane could not see the expression on his face.

"As a matter of fact, 'overthinking' and 'dissatisfaction' are the root of all the conflicts and distresses that should not exist in decades of life." Jane's voice became lively and cheerful again, "In short, the above The long speech can be summed up in one sentence - Don't be hypocritical, Mr. Rochester, die if you don't want to live, and endure if you don't want to die.

Mr. Rochester: "..."

I went through a lot of hardships, trying to find an angel to save me, but who knew God sent me a witch!

The author has something to say: Cool love to sell cute~

Exam 17... help--