Reading books in English with subtitles: 2. Jane Eyre (animation) - Charlotte Brontë【30 epizod】For beginners Level 1

1 Misery at Gateshead Hall

Jane Eyre 1: Misery at Gateshead Hall

There was no possibility of taking a walk that day.

The cold November wind had brought so much rain

that outdoor exercise was out of

the question. My cousins, Eliza, John, and Georgiana Reed,

were clustered around their mama in sitting room.

For the moment they were neither quarreling nor crying.

Mrs. Reed looked perfectly happy as she reclined on a sofa by the fireside with her darlings around her. She had excluded me from the group.

"I hate to keep you at a distance, Jane," she said. "But until I hear from the nurse or learn from my own observations that you are honestly trying to acquire a better disposition, I must exclude you from privileges intended only for happy children."

"What does the nurse say I've done?" I asked."Jane, I don't like children who ask questions.

Be seated somewhere and remain silent until you can speak pleasantly."

A small room adjoined the sitting room.I slipped in there and soon picked out a book from the bookcase.Climbing onto the window seat, I drew the curtain closed around me.

I feared nothing except interruption, and that came too soon when the door opened.
"Boo!" cried John. Then he paused because the room seemed empty.

"Eliza! Georgiana!" he called to his sisters. "Jane isn't here. Tell Mama she has run out into the rain."John never would have found me, but Eliza looked into the room and said at once,

"She's in the window seat, John."

I came out immediately because I trembled at the idea of John dragging me out.
"What do you want?" I asked."Say, 'What do you want, Master Reed?'" he replied. "I want you to come here."Seating himself in an armchair, he motioned for me to stand before him.
John was a 14-year-old schoolboy while I was only 10. He bullied me constantly, but his mother never noticed, and the servants didn't like to offend him by taking my side.

I approached John, and he spent three minutes sticking out his tongue at me.

All at once he hit me so hard that I staggered back.

"That's for your impudence in answering Mama a while ago," he said.

"And for sneaking behind the curtain."Accustomed to his abuse, I had no intention of replying.

My main concern was how to endure the blow that would surely follow.

"What were you doing behind the curtain?" John asked."Reading.""Show me the."

I returned the window seat and fetched it for him."You have no business taking our books.
Mama says your father left you no money," said John. "You ought to be out begging,

not living here with gentlemen's children like us, eating our food and wearing clothes at our mother's expense.I'll teach you not to rummage through my bookshelves. Go stand by the door, away from the mirror and windows."I puzzled over those last directions until I saw him ready to hurl the book at me. I darted aside, but it was too late.

The book hit me, and I fell against the door, cutting my head."Wicked and cruel boy!" I shouted. "You are like a murderer, a slave driver""What did you say?" he cried. "I'll tell Mama, but first"John ran headlong at me, grasping my hair and shoulder.I don't remember what I did to him, but he bellowed,and Mrs. Reed came running, followed by two servants."How could you fly at Master John like that?" said Bessie, the nurse."Did anybody ever see such a picture of passion?" said Miss Abbot, who was Mrs. Reed's personal maid.

"Take her away to the red room and lock her in!" ordered Mrs. Reed.I resisted all the way upstairs, something new for me."For shame!" cried Miss Abbot. "What shocking conduct, Miss Jane, to strike a young gentleman, your young master.""How is he my master?"
I asked, still struggling against them as we reached the red room. "Am I a servant?"

"No, you are less than a servant because you do nothing for your keep," said Miss Abbot.

"Sit down and think over your wickedness."

"You ought to be aware, miss, that you are under obligation to Mrs. Reed," said Bessie.

"If she were to turn you out from Gateshead Hall, you'd have to go to the poorhouse."

I had nothing to say."If you don't repent," said Miss Abbot, "something bad might be permitted
to come down the chimney and fetch you away."

Then they went out, shutting the door and locking it behind them.The red room was a spare bedroom, very seldom used despite its large size. Mr. Reed had died in this room nine years ago, and since then few people had crossed its threshold.I sat on a low ottoman near the fireplace.

Why could I never please anyone? Eliza, who was headstrong and selfish,

was respected. Georgiana, who had a spoiled temperament, was always indulged.

My head still ached and bled from the blow I'd received from John.

Why did no one punish him? I knew if I were a happy, handsome, romping child,

everyone would treat me better.

It was past four o'clock, and daylight began to fade from the red room. Rain beat on the windows and wind howled in the trees.I started to think of Mr. Reed, my mother's brother.

He had taken me in when I was an infant without parents. In his last moments, he'd made Mrs. Reed promise to rear me as one of her own children. I never doubted that my uncle would have treated me kindly if he'd lived.

Then I began to recall stories I'd heard about dead men, troubled by the violation of their last wishes.Suddenly a light gleamed on the wall. I shrieked and rushed to the door, desperately pounding on it. Bessie and Miss Abbot came running."Why are you screaming?" asked Bessie, opening the door.

"Let me out!" I cried. "I think I saw a ghost!""I know the girl's naughty tricks," Miss Abbot said in disgust."What's all this?" demanded Mrs. Reed, walking into the room. "I said Jane was to stay here alone.""But she screamed so loud," pleaded Bessie, holding my hand."I despise trickery," said Mrs. Reed. "You will stay here an extra hour.""Oh, Aunt, have pity, let me"
"Silence!" commanded Mrs. Reed. Ignoring my wild sobs, she abruptly locked me in again.

I heard her walking away, and then, dear reader, I soon lost consciousness.

2_A Caring Visitor

2: A Caring Visitor

The next thing I remembered was waking up feeling as if I'd had a terrible nightmare.

I became aware that someone was lifting me into a sitting position, and that this person

was holding me more tenderly than I'd ever been held before.Soon I realized I was in my own bed; it was night. Bessie stood at the foot of the bed while a gentleman sat in a chair near my pillow and leaned over me.Turning from Bessie, I studied the face of the gentleman. It was Mr. Lloyd, an apothecary sometimes called by Mrs. Reed when the servants were ailing. For herself and the children she employed a physician.

"Well, who am I?" he asked."Mr. Lloyd," I said, offering him my hand.He took it and smiled. "We shall get along very well, Miss Jane Eyre."As he helped me lie down, he told Bessie that

I was not to be disturbed during the night. He gave some more directions and said that he would return tomorrow, and then he departed. As he closed the door, my heart sank. I'd felt so cared for while he sat in the chair near my pillow."Would you like something to eat or drink?" Bessie asked kindly.

"No, thank you, Bessie.""Then I think I shall go to bed, but you may call me if you want anything in the night."She was so wonderfully polite that I dared to ask a question.

"What's the matter with me? Am I sick?"

"You grew sick, I suppose, with crying in the red room. But you'll be better soon."
Bessie went into the nearby housemaid's room, and I heard her talking.

"Sarah, come sleep with me in the nursery," she said to the housemaid.

"I don't dare be alone with that poor child tonight. She might die.

It's so strange that she had a fit in the red room. Mrs. Reed was too hard on her."
Sarah came back with her, and they both went to bed. They whispered for half an hour before they fell asleep. I caught scraps of their conversation."Something passed her, all dressed in white, and then vanished ," Bessie murmured.

At last they both slept, but I lay awake the whole night, still haunted by the ghost and Mrs. Reed's cruelty.By noon the next day, I sat wrapped in a shawl by the nursery hearth.

I felt physically weak and broken down, but my worst ailment was a wretched sadness.

No sooner had I wiped one tear from my cheek than another followed.Yet I should have been happy.

None of the Reeds were there; they had all gone out in the carriage with their mama.

Miss Abbot was sewing in another room. And Bessie addressed me kindly as she moved back and forth, putting away toys.Later Bessie went down to the kitchen and brought back a tart on

a brightly painted plate that I'd always admired, yet had never been allowed to touch.

But I was too miserable to eat the tart or enjoy the plate. She brought me a book and sang to me as she began making a bonnet for Georgiana's doll, but nothing helped.

The next day Mr. Lloyd returned."Well, nurse, how is she?" he asked."Very well," replied Bessie."Then she ought to look more cheerful. Why have you been crying, Miss Jane?
Have you any pain?""No, sir," I said.

"I daresay she's crying because she couldn't go out in the carriage," said Bessie.
"I never cried for such a thing in my life!" I said indignantly. "I cry because I'm miserable."

"Oh, miss!" Bessie said with a note of disapproval in her voice.Just then the bell rang for the servants' lunch."That's for you, nurse," said Mr. Lloyd. "I'll stay with Miss Jane until you return."
He waited for her to leave and then he said, "What made you ill yesterday?"
I was knocked down, but that didn't make me ill.

I was shut up until after dark in a room where there's a ghost.""You're afraid of ghosts?"
"Of Mr. Reed's ghost. He died in that room. It was cruel to shut me up alone without a candle."

Mr. Lloyd could not understand why I was still miserable in the daylight. Finally I blurted out,

"I have no father or mother, brothers or sisters.""You have a kind aunt and cousins."

"John knocked me down, and my aunt shut me up in the red room."

Mr. Lloyd took out his snuff box. "Aren't you thankful you have such a beautiful place to live?"

"It's not my house, sir. If I had anywhere else to go, I'd be glad to leave."
"Do you have any relatives besides Mrs. Reed?"
I shook my head. "My aunt once said I might have some poor Eyre relations."
"If we could find them, would you like to go to them?"
I thought for a minute. "No, I shouldn't like to belong to poor people."
"Would you like to go to school?" asked Mr. Lloyd.

I scarcely knew what school was. John hated his school, but Bessie had worked in a house where the young ladies had prospered at school. She had boasted of the pictures they painted and the music they played. School implied an entrance into a new life."I should indeed like to go to school," I finally announced.Soon I heard the carriage rolling up the gravel drive.

Mr. Lloyd went to talk to Mrs. Reed, and because of what later happened, I assume he recommended I be sent to school.

One night soon afterward, Bessie and Miss Abbot sat sewing in the nursery while they thought I slept. Miss Abbot talked about my family, and I learned for the first time that my father had been a poor clergyman. My mother's friends and family had considered him beneath her, but she married him anyway. Her father had cut her off without any money, and later my parents had died within a month of each other.

When Miss Abbot finished, Bessie sighed. "Miss Jane should be pitied."
"Yes, if she were a nice, pretty child, one might be compassionate, but one really cannot care for such a little toad.""A beauty like Miss Georgiana would be more moving in the same condition," agreed Bessie."Oh, I dote on Miss Georgiana!" cried Miss Abbot.

She paused for a moment and then said with equal fervor, "Shall we get some dinner?"

And they went downstairs, leaving me with much to think about as I fell asleep.

3_A Stern Visitor

3: A Stern Visitor

Weeks passed and I regained my health, but no mention was made of sending me to school. Mrs. Reed favored her own children more than ever, and she ordered them not to speak to me.One day John tried to hit me, but I struck first, punching him in the nose as hard as

I could. He went blubbering to his mama while I ran upstairs. I heard him telling a tale of how "that nasty Jane Eyre" had flown at him like a mad cat, but he was interrupted rather harshly.

"Don't talk to me about her, John," said Mrs. Reed. "I told you not to go near her.

I don't want either you or your sisters to associate with her."

Leaning over the banister, I cried out, "They're not fit to associate with me!"
Mrs. Reed was a rather stout woman, but on hearing this bold declaration, she ran nimbly upstairs. She swept me into the nursery and forbade me to rise from my bed or to utter one more syllable that day."What would my uncle say if he were alive?" I demanded.

"What?" Mrs. Reed suddenly seemed fearful.

"My uncle Reed is in heaven, and so are Papa and Mama," I went on boldly.

"They can see all you do and think. They know how you wish me dead."
Mrs. Reed shook me most soundly. She left me without saying another word,

but Bessie lectured me for an hour on what a wicked child I was.
Christmas and the New Year were celebrated at Gateshead Hall with the usual festive cheer. Presents were exchanged; dinners and evening parties were given.

Of course I was excluded from every happy moment.

Some evenings when there was company, Bessie would bring me a special treat.

She sat on my bed while I ate, and when I finished, she tucked the covers around me.

Bessie was often quick to anger, but when she was gentle, she was my favorite person.

It was now the morning of January fifteenth. Eliza was heading outdoors while Georgiana sat in front of the mirror,adorning her hair with artificial flowers she'd found in the attic.

I was making my bed because Bessie frequently employed me as a sort of nursery maid to tidy the room.Having finished my work, I stood in front of the window. I saw a carriage roll up the drive, but of more interest to me was a hungry robin perched in a tree. I crumbled some roll left from my breakfast and was just about to toss it out the window when Bessie came running into the nursery."What are you doing, Miss Jane?" she cried breathlessly. "You're wanted in the sitting room."Bessie quickly scrubbed my hands and face, ran a brush through my hair, and removed my pinafore.

"Who could want me?" I wondered as I stood outside the sitting room. Mrs. Reed hadn't summoned me for months.I entered the room. Mrs. Reed occupied her usual seat by the fireside. Standing next to her was a tall, severe man dressed entirely in black.

I curtsied and Mrs. Reed said, "This is the little girl that I wrote to you about."

The man scrutinized me for some minutes before addressing me.

"Your name, little girl?""Jane Eyre, sir.""Well, Jane Eyre, are you a good child?"
Mrs. Reed answered for me. "Perhaps the less said on that subject the better,

Mr. Brocklehurst.""I'm sorry indeed to hear that." Bending from the waist, he installed himself in the armchair opposite Mrs. Reed. "Come here."I crossed the rug and he placed me right in front of him What a large face he had now that it was almost level with mine!

"There is no sight so sad as a naughty child," he began, "especially a naughty little girl.

Do you know where the wicked go after they die?""They go to hell" was my ready and expected answer."What must you do to avoid hell?"

I thought for a moment, and when I gave my answer, I knew it was the wrong one.

"I must not die."

Mr. Brocklehurst shook his head sadly. "I fear that you won't go to heaven."
I looked down at his two large feet planted on the rug and sighed, wishing myself far away.

"Do you say your prayers morning and evening?" he asked."Yes, sir."
"Do you read your Bible?""Sometimes.""Are you fond of it? I hope you like the Psalms."
"Psalms are not interesting," I said.

"That proves you have a wicked heart," concluded Mr. Brocklehurst.
Mrs. Reed told me to sit down, and then she carried on the conversation.
"Mr. Brocklehurst, I believe I told you in my letter that Jane does not have quite the disposition that I would wish. If you admit her to Lowood school, I'd be glad if you requested that the teachers keep an eye on her because she is deceitful. I mention this in front of you,

Jane, so that you don't try to deceive Mr. Brocklehurst."

She was already wiping hope from my new existence. I felt tears springing to my eyes.

"Deceit is indeed a sad fault in a child," Mr. Brocklehurst said.

"It's the same as a falsehood, and all liars go to hell. I will speak to the teachers."
"I want her to be brought up humbly," continued Mrs. Reed.
Mr. Brocklehurst nodded. "My own daughter recently commented on how quiet and plain all the girls at Lowood look with their hair combed behind their ears and their long pinafores."

Then they settled that I would be transported to Lowood as soon as possible and

that I would also spend all my vacations there. As he left, Mr. Brocklehurst handed me a thin book."Read it with prayer," he advised, "especially that part containing an account of the awfully sudden death of Martha G., a naughty child addicted to falsehood and deceit."

He left, and Mrs. Reed ordered me back to the nursery.

I walked to the door, but then I turned back to Mrs. Reed. I had to speak.
"I'm not deceitful. If I were, I'd say I love you, but I declare I don't love you.

As for this book, you should give it to Georgiana because she tells lies.People think you are a good woman, but you are bad, and I will tell that to everyone at Lowood."
Mrs. Reed looked frightened. "What's wrong with you, dear?""I am not your dear.

Send me to school soon, Mrs. Reed, for I hate living here!"