Mr. Rochester heard, but heeded not: he stood stubborn and rigid, making no movement but to possess himself of my hand.
罗切斯特先生听了置之不理。他顽固而僵直地站着，一动不动，但握住了我的手。
What a hot and strong grasp he had and how like quarried marble was his pale, firm, massive front at this moment!
他握得多紧！他的手多灼人！他那苍白、坚定的阔脸这时多么像开采下来的大理石！
How his eye shone, still watchful, and yet wild beneath!
他的眼睛多么有光彩！表面平静警觉，底下却犹如翻江倒海！
Mr. Wood seemed at a loss. "What is the nature of the impediment?" he asked.
沃德先生似乎不知所措，“是哪一类性质的障碍？”
"Perhaps it may be got over -- explained away?"
他问。“说不定可以排除--能够解释清楚呢？”
"Hardly," was the answer. "I have called it insuperable, and I speak advisedly."
“几乎不可能，”那人回答，“我称它难以克服，是经过深思熟虑后才说的。”

The speaker came forward and leaned on the rails.

说话人走到前面，倚在栏杆上。
He continued, uttering each word distinctly, calmly, steadily, but not loudly...
他往下说，每个字都说得那么清楚，那么镇定，那么稳重，但声音并不高。
"It simply consists in the existence of a previous marriage. Mr. Rochester has a wife now living."
“障碍完全在于一次以前的婚姻，罗切斯特先生有一个妻子还活着。”
My nerves vibrated to those low-spoken words as they had never vibrated to thunder
这几个字轻轻道来，但对我神经所引起的震动，却甚过于雷霆，
my blood felt their subtle violence as it had never felt frost or fire;
对我血液的细微侵蚀远甚于风霜水火，
but I was collected, and in no danger of swooning.
但我又镇定下来了，没有晕倒的危险。
I looked at Mr. Rochester: I made him look at me.
我瞧了瞧罗切斯特先生，让他瞧着我。
His whole face was colourless rock: his eye was both spark and flint.
他的整张脸成了一块苍白的岩石。他的眼睛直冒火星，却又坚如燧石。
He disavowed nothing: he seemed as if he would defy all things.
他一点也没有否认，似乎要无视一切。
Without speaking, without smiling, without seeming to recognise in me a human being,
他没有说话，没有微笑，也似乎没有把我看作一个人，
he only twined my waist with his arm and riveted me to his side.
而只是胳膊紧紧搂住我的腰，把我紧贴在他身边。