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- Джэйн Эйр
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I
know
not
whether
the
day
was
fair
or
foul
;
in
descending
the
drive
,
I
gazed
neither
on
sky
nor
earth
:
my
heart
was
with
my
eyes
;
and
both
seemed
migrated
into
Mr.
Rochester
's
frame
.
I
wanted
to
see
the
invisible
thing
on
which
,
as
we
went
along
,
he
appeared
to
fasten
a
glance
fierce
and
fell
.
I
wanted
to
feel
the
thoughts
whose
force
he
seemed
breasting
and
resisting
.
At
the
churchyard
wicket
he
stopped
:
he
discovered
I
was
quite
out
of
breath
.
"
Am
I
cruel
in
my
love
?
"
he
said
.
"
Delay
an
instant
:
lean
on
me
,
Jane
.
"
And
now
I
can
recall
the
picture
of
the
grey
old
house
of
God
rising
calm
before
me
,
of
a
rook
wheeling
round
the
steeple
,
of
a
ruddy
morning
sky
beyond
.
I
remember
something
,
too
,
of
the
green
grave-mounds
;
and
I
have
not
forgotten
,
either
,
two
figures
of
strangers
straying
amongst
the
low
hillocks
and
reading
the
mementoes
graven
on
the
few
mossy
head-stones
.
I
noticed
them
,
because
,
as
they
saw
us
,
they
passed
round
to
the
back
of
the
church
;
and
I
doubted
not
they
were
going
to
enter
by
the
side-aisle
door
and
witness
the
ceremony
.
By
Mr.
Rochester
they
were
not
observed
;
he
was
earnestly
looking
at
my
face
from
which
the
blood
had
,
I
daresay
,
momentarily
fled
:
for
I
felt
my
forehead
dewy
,
and
my
cheeks
and
lips
cold
.
When
I
rallied
,
which
I
soon
did
,
he
walked
gently
with
me
up
the
path
to
the
porch
.
We
entered
the
quiet
and
humble
temple
;
the
priest
waited
in
his
white
surplice
at
the
lowly
altar
,
the
clerk
beside
him
.
All
was
still
:
two
shadows
only
moved
in
a
remote
corner
.
My
conjecture
had
been
correct
:
the
strangers
had
slipped
in
before
us
,
and
they
now
stood
by
the
vault
of
the
Rochesters
,
their
backs
towards
us
,
viewing
through
the
rails
the
old
time-stained
marble
tomb
,
where
a
kneeling
angel
guarded
the
remains
of
Damer
de
Rochester
,
slain
at
Marston
Moor
in
the
time
of
the
civil
wars
,
and
of
Elizabeth
,
his
wife
.
Our
place
was
taken
at
the
communion
rails
.
Hearing
a
cautious
step
behind
me
,
I
glanced
over
my
shoulder
:
one
of
the
strangers
--
a
gentleman
,
evidently
--
was
advancing
up
the
chancel
.
The
service
began
.
The
explanation
of
the
intent
of
matrimony
was
gone
through
;
and
then
the
clergyman
came
a
step
further
forward
,
and
,
bending
slightly
towards
Mr.
Rochester
,
went
on
.
"
I
require
and
charge
you
both
(
as
ye
will
answer
at
the
dreadful
day
of
judgment
,
when
the
secrets
of
all
hearts
shall
be
disclosed
)
,
that
if
either
of
you
know
any
impediment
why
ye
may
not
lawfully
be
joined
together
in
matrimony
,
ye
do
now
confess
it
;
for
be
ye
well
assured
that
so
many
as
are
coupled
together
otherwise
than
God
's
Word
doth
allow
,
are
not
joined
together
by
God
,
neither
is
their
matrimony
lawful
.
"
He
paused
,
as
the
custom
is
.
When
is
the
pause
after
that
sentence
ever
broken
by
reply
?
Not
,
perhaps
,
once
in
a
hundred
years
.
And
the
clergyman
,
who
had
not
lifted
his
eyes
from
his
book
,
and
had
held
his
breath
but
for
a
moment
,
was
proceeding
:
his
hand
was
already
stretched
towards
Mr.
Rochester
,
as
his
lips
unclosed
to
ask
,
"
Wilt
thou
have
this
woman
for
thy
wedded
wife
?
"
--
when
a
distinct
and
near
voice
said
--
"
The
marriage
can
not
go
on
:
I
declare
the
existence
of
an
impediment
.
"
The
clergyman
looked
up
at
the
speaker
and
stood
mute
;
the
clerk
did
the
same
;
Mr.
Rochester
moved
slightly
,
as
if
an
earthquake
had
rolled
under
his
feet
:
taking
a
firmer
footing
,
and
not
turning
his
head
or
eyes
,
he
said
,
"
Proceed
.
"
