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<- Previous | Table of Contents | Next -> Digital Library - Digital Library-Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte


when I tried to extract it; it sickened me when remembrance thrust
it farther in. Birds began singing in brake and copse: birds were
faithful to their mates; birds were emblems of love. What was I? In
the midst of my pain of heart and frantic effort of principle, I
abhorred myself. I had no solace from self-approbation: none even
from self-respect. I had injured-wounded-left my master. I was
hateful in my own eyes. Still I could not turn, nor retrace one step.
God must have led me on.

As to my own will or conscience, impassioned grief had trampled
one and stifled the other. I was weeping wildly as I walked along
my solitary way: fast, fast I went like one delirious. A weakness,
beginning inwardly, extending to the limbs, seized me, and I fell: I
lay on the ground some minutes, pressing my face to the wet turf. I
had some fear-or hope-that here I should die: but I was soon up;
crawling forwards on my hands and knees, and then again raised
to my feet-as eager and as determined as ever to reach the road.
When I got there, I was forced to sit to rest me under the hedge;
and while I sat, I heard wheels, and saw a coach come on. I stood
up and lifted my hand; it stopped. I asked where it was going: the
driver named a place a long way off, and where I was sure Mr.
Rochester had no connections. I asked for what sum he would take
me there; he said thirty shillings; I answered I had but twenty;
well, he would try to make it do. He further gave me leave to get
into the inside, as the vehicle was empty: I entered, was shut in,
and it rolled on its way.

Gentle reader, may you never feel what I then felt! May your eyes
never shed such stormy, scalding, heart-wrung tears as poured
from mine. May you never appeal to Heaven in prayers so
hopeless and so agonised as in that hour left my lips; for never may
you, like me, dread to be the instrument of evil to what you wholly
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