13Jane Eyrewhen, having brought her ironing-table to the nursery hearth, sheallowed us to sit about it, and while she got up Mrs.Reed's lacefrills, and crimped her nightcap borders, fed our eager attentionwith passages of love and adventure taken from old fairy tales andother ballads; or (as at a later period I discovered) from the pagesof Pamela, and Henry, Earl of Moreland.WithBewick on myknee, I was thenhappy:happy atleast inmy way.I feared nothing but interruption, and that came too soon.The breakfast-room door opened."Boh! Madam Mope!" cried the voice of John Reed; then hepaused: he found the room apparently empty."Where the dickens is she!" he continued. "Lizzy! Georgy!(calling to his sisters) Joan is not here: tell mama she is run outintotherain-badanimal!""It is well I drew the curtain," thought I; and I wished ferventlyhe might not discover my hiding-place: nor would JohnReed havefound it out himself; he was not quick either of vision orconception; but Eliza just put her head in at the door, and said atonce-"She is in the window-seat, to be sure, Jack."And I came out immediately,for I trembled at the idea of beingdragged forth by the said Jack."What do you want?"I asked, withawkwarddiffidence.“Say, “What do you want, Master Reed?""was the answer."Iwant you to come here;" and seating himself in an arm-chair, heintimated by a gesture that I was to approach and stand beforehim.John Reed was a schoolboy of fourteen years old; four yearsolder than I, for I was but ten: large and stout for his age, with aCharlotte BronteElecBookClassics
Jane Eyre Charlotte Brontë ElecBook Classics 13 when, having brought her ironing-table to the nursery hearth, she allowed us to sit about it, and while she got up Mrs. Reed’s lace frills, and crimped her nightcap borders, fed our eager attention with passages of love and adventure taken from old fairy tales and other ballads; or (as at a later period I discovered) from the pages of Pamela, and Henry, Earl of Moreland. With Bewick on my knee, I was then happy: happy at least in my way. I feared nothing but interruption, and that came too soon. The breakfast-room door opened. “Boh! Madam Mope!” cried the voice of John Reed; then he paused: he found the room apparently empty. “Where the dickens is she!” he continued. “Lizzy! Georgy! (calling to his sisters) Joan is not here: tell mama she is run out into the rain—bad animal!” “It is well I drew the curtain,” thought I; and I wished fervently he might not discover my hiding-place: nor would John Reed have found it out himself; he was not quick either of vision or conception; but Eliza just put her head in at the door, and said at once— “She is in the window-seat, to be sure, Jack.” And I came out immediately, for I trembled at the idea of being dragged forth by the said Jack. “What do you want?” I asked, with awkward diffidence. “Say, ‘What do you want, Master Reed?’” was the answer. “I want you to come here;” and seating himself in an arm-chair, he intimated by a gesture that I was to approach and stand before him. John Reed was a schoolboy of fourteen years old; four years older than I, for I was but ten: large and stout for his age, with a
14JaneEyredingy and unwholesome skin; thick lineaments in a spaciousvisage,heavylimbs andlargeextremities.Hegorgedhimselfhabitually at table, which made him bilious, and gave him a dimand bleared eye and flabby cheeks.He ought now to have been atschool:buthis mama hadtaken himhomefor a month or two,“onaccount of his delicate health." Mr.Miles, the master, affirmedthat he would do very well if hehad fewer cakes and sweetmeatssent him from home;but the mother's heart turned from anopinion so harsh, and inclined rather to the more refined idea thatJohn's sallowness was owing to over-application and, perhaps, topining after home.Johnhadnotmuchaffectionforhismotherand sisters,andanantipathy to me. He bullied and punished me; not two or threetimes in theweek,nor once or twice in the day,but continually:every nerve I had feared him, and every morsel of flesh in mybones shrankwhenhecamenear.ThereweremomentswhenIwas bewildered by the terror he inspired, becauseI had no appealwhatever against either his menaces or his inflictions; the servantsdidnotliketo offend theiryoung masterbytaking mypart againsthim, and Mrs. Reed was blind and deaf on the subject: she neversaw him strike or heard him abuse me, though he did both nowand then in her very presence, more freguently,however, behindherback.Habitually obedient to John, I came up to his chair: he spentsome three minutes in thrusting out his tongue at me as far as hecould without damaging the roots: I knew he would soon strike,and while dreading theblow,I mused on the disgusting and uglyappearance of him who would presently deal it. I wonder if heread that notion in my face; for, all at once, without speaking, heCharlotte BronteElecBookClassics
Jane Eyre Charlotte Brontë ElecBook Classics 14 dingy and unwholesome skin; thick lineaments in a spacious visage, heavy limbs and large extremities. He gorged himself habitually at table, which made him bilious, and gave him a dim and bleared eye and flabby cheeks. He ought now to have been at school; but his mama had taken him home for a month or two, “on account of his delicate health.” Mr. Miles, the master, affirmed that he would do very well if he had fewer cakes and sweetmeats sent him from home; but the mother’s heart turned from an opinion so harsh, and inclined rather to the more refined idea that John’s sallowness was owing to over-application and, perhaps, to pining after home. John had not much affection for his mother and sisters, and an antipathy to me. He bullied and punished me; not two or three times in the week, nor once or twice in the day, but continually: every nerve I had feared him, and every morsel of flesh in my bones shrank when he came near. There were moments when I was bewildered by the terror he inspired, because I had no appeal whatever against either his menaces or his inflictions; the servants did not like to offend their young master by taking my part against him, and Mrs. Reed was blind and deaf on the subject: she never saw him strike or heard him abuse me, though he did both now and then in her very presence, more frequently, however, behind her back. Habitually obedient to John, I came up to his chair: he spent some three minutes in thrusting out his tongue at me as far as he could without damaging the roots: I knew he would soon strike, and while dreading the blow, I mused on the disgusting and ugly appearance of him who would presently deal it. I wonder if he read that notion in my face; for, all at once, without speaking, he
15Jane Eyrestruck suddenly and strongly. I tottered, and on regaining myequilibrium retired back a step or two from his chair."That is for your impudence in answering mama awhile since,"said he, "and for your sneaking way of getting behind curtains,and for the look you had in your eyes two minutes since, you rat!"Accustomed to John Reed's abuse,I never had an idea ofreplying to it; my care was howto endure the blow which wouldcertainlyfollowtheinsult."What were you doing behind the curtain?"he asked."I was reading.""Showthebook."Ireturnedtothewindowand fetcheditthence."You have no business to take our books; you are a dependent,mama says; you have no money; your father left you none; youought to beg, and not to live here with gentlemen's children likeus, and eat the same meals we do, and wear clothes at our mama'sexpense. Now, I'll teach you to rummage my bookshelves: for theyare mine; all the house belongs to me, or will do in a fewyears. Goand stand by the door, out of the way of the mirror and thewindows."I did so, not at first aware what was his intention; but when Isaw him lift and poise the book and stand in act to hurl it, Iinstinctively started aside with a cry of alarm: not soon enough,however; the volume was flung, it hit me, and I fell, striking myhead against the door and cutting it. The cut bled, the pain wassharp: my terror had passed its climax; otherfeelings succeeded."Wicked and cruel boy!"I said."You are like a murdereryouarelikea slave-driveryouareliketheRoman emperors!"I had read Goldsmith's History of Rome, and had formed myCharlotte BronteElecBookClassics
Jane Eyre Charlotte Brontë ElecBook Classics 15 struck suddenly and strongly. I tottered, and on regaining my equilibrium retired back a step or two from his chair. “That is for your impudence in answering mama awhile since,” said he, “and for your sneaking way of getting behind curtains, and for the look you had in your eyes two minutes since, you rat!” Accustomed to John Reed’s abuse, I never had an idea of replying to it; my care was how to endure the blow which would certainly follow the insult. “What were you doing behind the curtain?” he asked. “I was reading.” “Show the book.” I returned to the window and fetched it thence. “You have no business to take our books; you are a dependent, mama says; you have no money; your father left you none; you ought to beg, and not to live here with gentlemen’s children like us, and eat the same meals we do, and wear clothes at our mama’s expense. Now, I’ll teach you to rummage my bookshelves: for they are mine; all the house belongs to me, or will do in a few years. Go and stand by the door, out of the way of the mirror and the windows.” I did so, not at first aware what was his intention; but when I saw him lift and poise the book and stand in act to hurl it, I instinctively started aside with a cry of alarm: not soon enough, however; the volume was flung, it hit me, and I fell, striking my head against the door and cutting it. The cut bled, the pain was sharp: my terror had passed its climax; other feelings succeeded. “Wicked and cruel boy!” I said. “You are like a murderer—you are like a slave-driver—you are like the Roman emperors!” I had read Goldsmith’s History of Rome, and had formed my
16JaneEyreopinion of Nero,Caligula, &c.AlsoI had drawn parallels insilence, which I never thought thus to have declared aloud."What! what!"he cried. "Did she say that to me? Did you hearher, Eliza and Georgiana?Won't Itell mama? but first"He ran headlong at me: I felt him grasp my hair and myshoulder:he had closed with a desperate thing.I really saw in hima tyrant,a murderer.I felt a drop or two of blood from my headtrickle down my neck, and was sensible of somewhat pungentsuffering: these sensations for the time predominated over fear,and I received him in frantic sort. I don't very well know what Idid with my hands, but he called me“Rat!Rat!"and bellowed outaloud. Aid was near him: Eliza and Georgiana had run for Mrs.Reed, who was gone upstairs: she now came upon the scene,followed by Bessie and her maid Abbot. We were parted:I heardthewords-“Dear!dear!What a fury to fly at Master John!""Did ever anybody see such a picture of passion!"ThenMrs.Reed subjoined"Take her away to the red-room, and lock her in there."Fourhands were immediately laid upon me, and I was borne upstairs.CharlotteBronteElecBookClassics
Jane Eyre Charlotte Brontë ElecBook Classics 16 opinion of Nero, Caligula, &c. Also I had drawn parallels in silence, which I never thought thus to have declared aloud. “What! what!” he cried. “Did she say that to me? Did you hear her, Eliza and Georgiana? Won’t I tell mama? but first—” He ran headlong at me: I felt him grasp my hair and my shoulder: he had closed with a desperate thing. I really saw in him a tyrant, a murderer. I felt a drop or two of blood from my head trickle down my neck, and was sensible of somewhat pungent suffering: these sensations for the time predominated over fear, and I received him in frantic sort. I don’t very well know what I did with my hands, but he called me “Rat! Rat!” and bellowed out aloud. Aid was near him: Eliza and Georgiana had run for Mrs. Reed, who was gone upstairs: she now came upon the scene, followed by Bessie and her maid Abbot. We were parted: I heard the words— “Dear! dear! What a fury to fly at Master John!” “Did ever anybody see such a picture of passion!” Then Mrs. Reed subjoined— “Take her away to the red-room, and lock her in there.” Four hands were immediately laid upon me, and I was borne upstairs
17Jane EyreChapter IIresisted all the way: a new thing for me, and a circumstance1which greatly strengthened the bad opinion Bessie and MissAbbot were disposed to entertain of me.The fact is, I was atrifle beside myself; or rather out of myself, as the French wouldsay: I was conscious that a moment's mutiny had already renderedme liable to strange penalties, and, like any other rebel slave, I feltresolved, in my desperation, to go all lengths.“Hold her arms, Miss Abbot: she's like a mad cat.""For shame! for shame!" cried the lady's-maid. "What shockingconduct,Miss Eyre, to strike a young gentleman, yourbenefactress's son!Your young master."“"Master! How is he my master? Am I a servant?"“No; you are less than a servant, for you do nothing for yourkeep.There,sit down,and thinkover yourwickedness."They had got me by this time into the apartment indicated byMrs.Reed, and had thrust me upon a stool: my impulse was to risefrom it like a spring; their two pair of hands arrested me instantly."If you don't sit still, you must be tied down," said Bessie.“"MissAbbot, lend me your garters; she would break mine directly."Miss Abbot turned to divest a stout leg of the necessary ligature.This preparation for bonds,and the additional ignominy itinferred, took a little of the excitement out of me."Don't take them off," I cried;"I will not stir."In guarantee whereof, I attached myself to my seat by myhands."Mind you don't," said Bessie; and when she had ascertainedCharlotteBronteElecBookClassics
Jane Eyre Charlotte Brontë ElecBook Classics 17 Chapter II resisted all the way: a new thing for me, and a circumstance which greatly strengthened the bad opinion Bessie and Miss Abbot were disposed to entertain of me. The fact is, I was a trifle beside myself; or rather out of myself, as the French would say: I was conscious that a moment’s mutiny had already rendered me liable to strange penalties, and, like any other rebel slave, I felt resolved, in my desperation, to go all lengths. “Hold her arms, Miss Abbot: she’s like a mad cat.” “For shame! for shame!” cried the lady’s-maid. “What shocking conduct, Miss Eyre, to strike a young gentleman, your benefactress’s son! Your young master.” “Master! How is he my master? Am I a servant?” “No; you are less than a servant, for you do nothing for your keep. There, sit down, and think over your wickedness.” They had got me by this time into the apartment indicated by Mrs. Reed, and had thrust me upon a stool: my impulse was to rise from it like a spring; their two pair of hands arrested me instantly. “If you don’t sit still, you must be tied down,” said Bessie. “Miss Abbot, lend me your garters; she would break mine directly.” Miss Abbot turned to divest a stout leg of the necessary ligature. This preparation for bonds, and the additional ignominy it inferred, took a little of the excitement out of me. “Don’t take them off,” I cried; “I will not stir.” In guarantee whereof, I attached myself to my seat by my hands. “Mind you don’t,” said Bessie; and when she had ascertained I