CHAPTER XXIII 321
" As we are!" repeated Mr. Rochester-- " so," he added, enclosing me in his arms. Gathering me to his breast, pressing his lips on my lips: " so, Jane!"
" Yes, so, sir," I rejoined: " and yet not so; for you are a married man-- or as good as a married man, and wed to one inferior to you-- to one with whom you have no sympathy-- whom I do not believe you truly love; for I have seen and heard you sneer at her. I would scorn such a union: therefore I am better than you-- let me go!"
" Where, Jane? To Ireland?" " Yes-- to Ireland. I have spoken my mind, and can go anywhere now."
" Jane, be still; don ' t struggle so, like a wild frantic bird that is rending its own plumage in its desperation."
" I am no bird; and no net ensnares me; I am a free human being with an independent will, which I now exert to leave you."
Another effort set me at liberty, and I stood erect before him.
" And your will shall decide your destiny," he said: " I offer you my hand, my heart, and a share of all my possessions."
" You play a farce, which I merely laugh at."
" I ask you to pass through life at my side-- to be my second self, and best earthly companion."
" For that fate you have already made your choice, and must abide by it." " Jane, be still a few moments: you are over-excited: I will be still too."
A waft of wind came sweeping down the laurel-walk, and trembled through the boughs of the chestnut: it wandered away-- away-- to an indefinite distance-- it died. The nightingale ' s song was then the only voice of the