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1Sophie came at seven to dress me: she was very long indeed in accomplishing her task; so long that Mr. Rochester, grown,
2I suppose, impatient of my delay, sent up to ask why I did not come. She was just fastening my veil (the plain square of
3blond after all) to my hair with a brooch; I hurried from under her hands as soon as I could. "Stop!" she cried in
4French. "Look at yourself in the mirror: you have not taken one peep." So I turned at the door: I saw a robed and veiled
5figure, so unlike my usual self that it seemed almost the image of a stranger. "Jane!" called a voice, and I hastened
6down. I was received at the foot of the stairs by Mr. Rochester. "Lingerer!" he said, "my brain is on fire with
7impatience, and you tarry so long!" He took me into the dining-room, surveyed me keenly all over, pronounced me "fair as
8a lily, and not only the pride of his life, but the desire of his eyes," and then telling me he would give me but ten
9minutes to eat some breakfast, he rang the bell. One of his lately hired servants, a footman, answered it. "Is John
10getting the carriage ready?" "Yes, sir." "Is the luggage brought down?" "They are bringing it down, sir." "Go you to the
11church: see if Mr. Wood (the clergyman) and the clerk are there: return and tell me." The church, as the reader knows,
12was but just beyond the gates; the footman soon returned. "Mr. Wood is in the vestry, sir, putting on his surplice."
13"And the carriage?" "The horses are harnessing." "We shall not want it to go to church; but it must be ready the moment
14we return: all the boxes and luggage arranged and strapped on, and the coachman in his seat." "Yes, sir." "Jane, are you
15ready?" I rose. There were no groomsmen, no bridesmaids, no relatives to wait for or marshal: none but Mr. Rochester and
16I. Mrs. Fairfax stood in the hall as we passed. I would fain have spoken to her, but my hand was held by a grasp of
17iron: I was hurried along by a stride I could hardly follow; and to look at Mr. Rochester's face was to feel that not a
18second of delay would be tolerated for any purpose. I wonder what other bridegroom ever looked as he did--so bent up to
19a purpose, so grimly resolute: or who, under such steadfast brows, ever revealed such flaming and flashing eyes. I know
20not whether the day was fair or foul; in descending the drive, I gazed neither on sky nor earth: my heart was with my
21eyes; and both seemed migrated into Mr. Rochester's frame. I wanted to see the invisible thing on which, as we went
22along, he appeared to fasten a glance fierce and fell. I wanted to feel the thoughts whose force he seemed breasting and
23resisting. At the churchyard wicket he stopped: he discovered I was quite out of breath. "Am I cruel in my love?" he
24said. "Delay an instant: lean on me, Jane." And now I can recall the picture of the grey old house of God rising calm
25before me, of a rook wheeling round the steeple, of a ruddy morning sky beyond. I remember something, too, of the green
26grave-mounds; and I have not forgotten, either, two figures of strangers straying amongst the low hillocks and reading
27the mementoes graven on the few mossy head-stones. I noticed them, because, as they saw us, they passed round to the
28back of the church; and I doubted not they were going to enter by the side-aisle door and witness the ceremony. By Mr.
29Rochester they were not observed; he was earnestly looking at my face, from which the blood had, I daresay, momentarily
30fled: for I felt my forehead dewy, and my cheeks and lips cold. When I rallied, which I soon did, he walked gently with
31me up the path to the porch. We entered the quiet and humble temple; the priest waited in his white surplice at the
32lowly altar, the clerk beside him. All was still: two shadows only moved in a remote corner. My conjecture had been
33correct: the strangers had slipped in before us, and they now stood by the vault of the Rochesters, their backs towards
34us, viewing through the rails the old time-stained marble tomb, where a kneeling angel guarded the remains of Damer de
35Rochester, slain at Marston Moor in the time of the civil wars, and of Elizabeth, his wife. Our place was taken at the
36communion rails. Hearing a cautious step behind me, I glanced over my shoulder: one of the strangers--a gentleman,
37evidently--was advancing up the chancel. The service began. The explanation of the intent of matrimony was gone through;
38and then the clergyman came a step further forward, and, bending slightly towards Mr. Rochester, went on. "I require and
39charge you both (as ye will answer at the dreadful day of judgment, when the secrets of all hearts shall be disclosed),
40that if either of you know any impediment why ye may not lawfully be joined together in matrimony, ye do now confess it;
41for be ye well assured that so many as are coupled together otherwise than God's Word doth allow, are not joined
42together by God, neither is their matrimony lawful." He paused, as the custom is. When is the pause after that sentence
43ever broken by reply? Not, perhaps, once in a hundred years. And the clergyman, who had not lifted his eyes from his
44book, and had held his breath but for a moment, was proceeding: his hand was already stretched towards Mr. Rochester, as
45his lips unclosed to ask, "Wilt thou have this woman for thy wedded wife?"--when a distinct and near voice said-- "The
46marriage cannot go on: I declare the existence of an impediment." The clergyman looked up at the speaker and stood mute;
47the clerk did the same; Mr. Rochester moved slightly, as if an earthquake had rolled under his feet: taking a firmer
48footing, and not turning his head or eyes, he said, "Proceed." Profound silence fell when he had uttered that word, with
49deep but low intonation. Presently Mr. Wood said-- "I cannot proceed without some investigation into what has been
50asserted, and evidence of its truth or falsehood." "The ceremony is quite broken off," subjoined the voice behind us. "I
51am in a condition to prove my allegation: an insuperable impediment to this marriage exists." Mr. Rochester heard, but
52heeded not: he stood stubborn and rigid, making no movement but to possess himself of my hand. What a hot and strong
53grasp he had! and how like quarried marble was his pale, firm, massive front at this moment! How his eye shone, still
54watchful, and yet wild beneath! Mr. Wood seemed at a loss. "What is the nature of the impediment?" he asked. "Perhaps it
55may be got over--explained away?" "Hardly," was the answer. "I have called it insuperable, and I speak advisedly." The
56speaker came forward and leaned on the rails. He continued, uttering each word distinctly, calmly, steadily, but not
57loudly-- "It simply consists in the existence of a previous marriage. Mr. Rochester has a wife now living." My nerves
58vibrated to those low-spoken words as they had never vibrated to thunder--my blood felt their subtle violence as it had
59never felt frost or fire; but I was collected, and in no danger of swooning. I looked at Mr. Rochester: I made him look
60at me. His whole face was colourless rock: his eye was both spark and flint. He disavowed nothing: he seemed as if he
61would defy all things. Without speaking, without smiling, without seeming to recognise in me a human being, he only
62twined my waist with his arm and riveted me to his side. "Who are you?" he asked of the intruder. "My name is Briggs, a
63solicitor of ---- Street, London." "And you would thrust on me a wife?" "I would remind you of your lady's existence,
64sir, which the law recognises, if you do not." "Favour me with an account of her--with her name, her parentage, her
65place of abode." "Certainly." Mr. Briggs calmly took a paper from his pocket, and read out in a sort of official, nasal
66voice:-- "'I affirm and can prove that on the 20th of October A.D. ---- (a date of fifteen years back), Edward Fairfax
67Rochester, of Thornfield Hall, in the county of ----, and of Ferndean Manor, in ----shire, England, was married to my
68sister, Bertha Antoinetta Mason, daughter of Jonas Mason, merchant, and of Antoinetta his wife, a Creole, at ----
69church, Spanish Town, Jamaica. The record of the marriage will be found in the register of that church--a copy of it is
70now in my possession. Signed, Richard Mason.'"
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