Chapter-15
Next morning, Mr Rochester told Mrs Fairfax that he was going to marry Jane Eyre within the next four weeks. Mrs Fairfax was startled by the words of Mr Rochester. Saying these words Mr Rochester went away.
After having her breakfast Jane Eyre went up to Mrs Fairfax who was sitting very gravely. Jane Eyre said to Mrs Fairfax, “Madam! are you all right? Why do you look so serious?”
Mrs Fairfax put the Bible aside which she had in her hands. Then she said to Jane, “Dear Jane! Mr Rochester has just told me that he is going to marry you soon. Is it right?”
Jane Eyre, who was very excited, said, “Yes, Madam. We are in love with each other. After years of misery, happiness has knocked at my door.”
Mrs Fairfax looked bewildered and said, “Do you know Mr Rochester is proud and fond of money? Is it really for love he is going to marry you? My dear Jane! I am not your enemy. The persons like Mr Rochester hardly ever marry their governesses. Be on guard lest your life should be spoiled.”
The sound words of Mrs Fairfax had dampened the spirits of Jane Eyre. In the meantime, Adele came up running there and told Jane that Mr Rochester was calling Adele and Jane outside. Accompanied by Adele Jane went out of the gate of Thornfield Hall. Mr Rochester was sitting in his car. He welcomed Jane in. He said to Jane, “Dear! let us go shopping. You must choose some dresses for yourself for the marriage.”
On their way to the market, Jane Eyre said to Mr Rochester, “Sir! one thing pesters me time and again. I would like to know why you feigned courtship with Miss Ingram.”
Mr Rochester spoke out, “Dear Jane! you are very innocent. I wanted you to love me as much as I am in love with you. That is why I enacted the whole drama. Drive all these rubbish thoughts out of your mind and concentrate on our wedding.”
Reaching the market Mr Rochester bought Jane a lot of beautiful dresses. Jane’s joy knew no bounds. In the evening, accompanied by Adele, both Mr Rochester and Jane Eyre returned to Thornfield Hall.
“Jane! you look blooming, and smiling, and pretty,” said Mr Rochester, “truly pretty this evening. Is this my pale, little elf? Is this my mustard-seed? This little sunny-faced girl has the dimpled check and rosy lips; has the satin-smooth hazel hair and the radiant hazel eyes.”
“It is Jane Eyre, sir,” said Jane.
“Soon to be Jane Rochester,” he added, “in four weeks, Janet; not a day more. Do you hear that?” Jane did, and could not quite comprehend it; it made her giddy. The feeling, the announcement sent through her, was something stronger than was consistent with joy—something that smote and stunned. It was, she throught almost fear. “You blushed, and now you are white, Jane, what is that for?” he asked.
“Because you gave me a new name—Jane Rochester. It seems so strange,” Jane said.
“Yes, Mrs Rochester,” said he, “young Mrs Rochester—Fairfax Rochester’s girl-bride.”
“It can never be, sir. It does not sound likely. Human beings never enjoy complete happiness in this world. I was not born for a different destiny to the rest of my species. To imagine such a lot befalling me is a fairly tale—a day-dream,” Jane stated.
“Which I can and will realize. I shall begin today. This morning I wrote to my banker in London to send me certain jewels he has in his keeping—heirlooms for the ladies of Thornfield. In a day or two, I hope to pour them into your lap for every attention, every privilege shall be yours that I would accord a peer’s daughter, if about to marry her,” said Mr Rochester.
“Oh Sir! never mind jewels. I don’t like to hear them spoken of. Jewels for Jane Eyre sound unnatural and strange. I would rather not have them,” said Jane.
“I will myself put the diamond chain round your neck and the circlet on your forehead—which it will become : for nature, at least, has stamped her patent of nobility on this brow, Jane. I will clasp the bracelets on these fine wrists and load these fairy-like fingers with rings,” said Mr Rochester.
“No, no, Sir! Think of other subjects and speak of other things and in other strain. Don’t address me as if I were a beauty. I am your plain, Quakerish governess,” said Jane.
“You are a beauty in my eyes, and a beauty just after the desire of my heart—delicate and aerial,” said Mr Rochester.
“Puny and insignificant, you mean. You are dreaming, sir or you are sneering. For God’s sake, don’t be ironical,” said Mr Rochester.
“I will make the world acknowledge you a beauty too,” he went on. While Jane really became uneasy at the strain, he had adopted because she felt he was either deluding himself or trying to delude her.
“I will attire my Jane in satin and lace and she shall have roses in her hair. I will cover the head. I love best with a priceless veil,” he added.
“And then you won’t know me, Sir; I shall not be your Jane Eyre any longer, but an ape in a harlequin’s jacket—a jay in borrowed plumes. I would as soon see you, Mr Rochester, tricked out in stage-trappings, as myself clad in a court-lady’s robe. I don’t call you handsome, Sir, though I love you most dearly : far too dearly to flatter you. Don’t flatter me,” said Jane.
He pursued his theme, however, without noticing my deprecation.
“I took you in the carriage to Millcote, and bought you some dresses of your choice. I told you we shall be married in four weeks. The wedding is to take place quietly in the church down below yonder; and then I shall waft you away at once to town. After a brief stay there, I shall bear my treasure to regions nearer the sun : to French vineyards and Italian plains; you shall see whatever is famous in an old story and in modern record. You shall taste, too, of the life of cities; and you shall learn to value yourself by just comparison with others,” said Mr Rochester.
“Shall I travel?—and with you, Sir?” asked Jane.
“You shall sojourn at Paris, Rome and Naples: at Florence, Venice and Vienna. All the ground I have wandered over shall be re-trodden by you. Wherever I stamped my hoof, you sylph’s foot shall step as well. Ten years since, I flew through Europe half mad; with disgust, hate and rage as my companions : now I shall revisit it healed and cleansed, with a very angel as my comforter,” said Mr Rochester.
Jane laughed at him as he said this.
“I am not an angel,” she asserted,” and I will not be one till I die. I will be myself. Mr Rochester, you must neither expect nor exact anything celestial of me—for you will not get it any more than I shall get it of you which I don’t at all anticipate.”
“What do you anticipate of one,” asked Mr Rochester.
“For a little while you will perhaps be as you are now—a very little while; and then you will turn cool. Then, you will be capricious and then you will be stern. I shall have much ado to please you. But when you get well used to me, you will perhaps like me again—like me, I say, not love me. I suppose your love will effervesce in six months or less. I have observed in books written by man that period assigned as the farthest to which a husband’s ardour extends. Yet, after all, as a friend and companion, I hope never to become distasteful to my dear master,” observed Jane.
“Distasteful! and like you again! I think I shall like you again, and yet again : and I will make you confess I don’t only like, but love you—with truth, fervour, constancy,” said Mr Rochester.
“Yet, are you not capricious, sir?” asked Jane.
“To women who please me only by their faces I am the very devil when I find out they have neither souls nor hearts. When they open to me a perspective of flatness, triviality and perhaps imbecility, coarseness and ill-temper : but to the clear eye and eloquent tongue, to the soul made of fire, and the character that bends but does not break—at once supple and stable, tractable and consistent—I am ever tender and true,” retorted Mr Rochester.
“Had you ever experience of such a character, sir? Did you ever love such a person?” asked Jane.
“I love it now,” said Mr Rochester.
“But before me : if I, indeed, in any respect come up to your difficult standard?” said Jane.
“I never met your likeness, Jane. You please me and you master me. You seem to submit. I like the sense of pliancy you impart. While I am twining the soft, silken skin round my finger, it sends a thrill up my arm to my heart. I am influenced—conquered. The influence is sweeter than I can express. And the conquest I undergo has a witchery beyond my triumph I can win. Why do you smile, Jane? What does that inexplicable, that uncanny turn of countenance mean?” asked Mr Rochester.
“I was thinking, Sir (you will excuse the idea; it was involuntary). I was thinking of Hercules and Samson with their charmers,” said Jane.
“You were, you little elfish,” said Mr Rochester.
“Hush, Sir! You don’t talk wisely just now; any more than those gentlemen acted very wisely,” said Jane.
Now, Mr Rochester and Jane started seeing each other on regular basis. They sang and played music together. Jane was extremely happy with Mr Rochester for giving her a new world in which she was going to enter soon.
Days rolled by. Soon, the month of courtship passed. All the preparations were complete. Jane had bought a pearl-coloured dress for the marriage.
One night, Jane was not able to sleep in peace. However hard she tried, she could not sleep properly. She got up and went to the library where Mr Rochester was going through a book.
Seeing Jane there, he said, “Dear Jane! is there something wrong with you? It is midnight and you are still awake. What is the matter?”
Jane Eyre replied, “Sir! it is raining and hailing heavily outside. I am a little bit afraid So, I could not sleep properly.”
Mr Rochester held Jane’s both hands and said, “Dear! you need not worry now. I am with you for ever.” Thus, both sat together in the library and talked for long hours.
During their conversation, Jane said to Mr Rochester, “Sir! the night before yesterday I had had some nightmares. I dreamt that I was carrying a little child who was wailing continuously. You walked on the road ahead of me. I tried to call out your name and overtake you but you went farther and farther.”
Mr Rochester consoled her saying, “Dear! it is a mere dream which never comes true. Have faith in me.”
Then, Jane told him that she saw a woman moving in her room yesterday morning. She was sleeping soundly. All of a sudden, she got up and came out. But there was nobody.
Mr Rochester said, “Can you describe her?”
Jane told that it was a tall and large woman with thick and dark hair hanging down her back. She took her (Jane’s) veil from its place, gazed at it long and tore it into two pieces. Then, she trampled on it. She was a dreadful woman to look at.
Hearing the words of Jane Eyre Mr Rochester shuddered a little bit. Gathering some courage he said, “Dear! it is a creature of your nervous imagination. It is just a dream and nothing else.”
Jane, at once, replied, “No, it was not a dream. When I looked around the room, I found my torn veil on the floor. The thing was real. The event did happen.”
Then, Mr Rochester said, “Thank God; it was only the veil that was harmed, not you.” Then, Rochester caressed Jane warmly and asked her to go to Adele’s room and sleep with her. Before Jane left, Mr Rochester said smilingly, “Dear! do see the dream of happy love and blissful marriage tonight instead of separation and sorrow.”
