All language subtitles for Jane Eyre Afl.8.English

The marriage cannot go on.

Proceed.

I cannot proceed without some enquiry
as to what has been said.

I am in a condition
to prove my allegation.

An insuperable impediment
to this marriage exists.

Please, explain, sir.

It consists in the existence
of a previous marriage.

Mr. Rochester has a wife
now living.

Who are you?

My name is Briggs.

I am a solicitor
of Gray's inn, London.

And you would
thrust on me a wife.

"I affirm and can prove

"that on the 20th
of october, 1820,

"Edward Fairfax Rochester
of Thornfield Hall

"was married to my sister
Bertha Antoinetta Mason,

"daughter of Jonas Mason,
merchant,

"and of Antoinetta Mason,
his wife, a creole,

"at St. Michael's church,
Spanish Town, Jamaica.

"The record of the marriage will be found
in the register of the church."

"A copy is appended
to this statement.

Signed, Richard Mason."

That, if a genuine
document,

may prove
I have been married.

It does not prove the woman
therein mentioned as my wife

is still living.

She was living
3 months ago.

How do you know?

I have a witness
to the fact

whose testimony even you,
sir, will scarcely controvert.

Produce him
or go to hell.

Have the goodness
to step forward, sir.

What have you to say?

Edward,
please understand.

I again demand:

what in the devil's name

have you to say?

Mr. Rochester, do not forget
you are in a sacred place.

Sir,

Mr. Rochester
may have been married,

but are you quite sure that
his wife is still living?

She is in
Thornfield Hall.

Impossible.

I've served this parish
for many years.

I've never heard of a Mrs. Rochester
at Thornfield Hall.

No, by God.

I took care none
should hear of it.

Or of her
under that name.

Wood, close your book.
Take off your surplice.

John Green, leave the church.
There will be no wedding today.

Come, all of you.

Follow me.

Good morrow, Mrs. Poole.

-And how is your charge today?
-Oh, we're tolerable today, sir.

Right, gentlemen.

There you see
my lawful wedded wife.

Look at her.

Look at her!

And this is what
I wished to have,

this young girl

who stands so grave and quiet
at the mouth of hell.

Bigamy is an ugly word.

I meant to be a bigamist,

but fate has outmaneuvered me,
or providence checked me.

Amen.

Aye. Amen!

Bertha Mason is mad.

She comes of a mad family,

idiots and maniacs
through 3 generations,

her own mother
among them,

as I found out after
I had wed the daughter,

for the whole family were silent
upon the secret before,

including her brother,

my friend Richard Mason.

Eh, Richard?

Never fear.

I'd as soon strike
a woman as you.

Now judge whether I had a right
to break the compact

and seek sympathy
with a human being.

This girl knew
no more than you.

he thought all
was fair and legal.

She never dreamt
she was going to be trapped

into a feigned union
with a defrauded wretch.

Now judge me.

And remember with
what judgment ye judge,

ye shall be judged.

Off with you now.

I must attend to my wife.

Madam.

Madam,

you are of course cleared
from all blame.

Your uncle,

if indeed he should still be living,
would be glad to hear of it.

My uncle?

What do you know
of my uncle?

Mr. John Eyre,

with whom you lately
and for the first time

entered into
communication.

You wrote to him of your
intended union with Mr. Rochester.

What of it?

How do you know
Mr. Eyre?

Mr. Mason is acquainted
with Mr. Eyre

and happened to stop off at
Madeira to recruit his health.

He called on him,
and Mr. Eyre spoke of you

and your forthcoming marriage
to a Mr. Rochester of Thornfield

Mr. Mason, in great distress,
revealed the true state of matters.

You know your uncle
is confined to his sick bed?

No. He never
wrote of it.

Ah. Alas, he is unlikely
ever to rise from it.

He was much alarmed

and implored Mr. Mason
to hasten back to England

to save you from the snare
into which you had fallen,

referring him to me
for assistance.

I am thankful that
I was not too late.

As doubtless
you must be also.

if that is all,
sir...

I'm certain your uncle will be dead
before you could go to him at Madeira.

I think you had better
remain in England

until you hear
from Mr. Eyre.

Or from me.

thank you.

So, you've come out
at last.

I've been waiting for you
long enough.

So, you shun me.

You shut yourself up
and grieve alone.

I'd rather you'd upbraided me
with vehemence.

You're passionate.
I expected a scene.

I was prepared for
the hot rain of tears,

and I wanted them
on my breast.

I was wrong.

You've not wept at all.

Well, Jane,

not a word of reproach?

Nothing bitter?

Nothing poignant?

Oh, Jane.

I never meant
to wound you thus.

Do you forgive me?

You know
I'm a scoundrel, Jane.

Yes, sir.

Then tell me so,
roundly and sharply.

I am tired and sick.
I need some water.

-How are you now, Jane?
-Much better.

Well, taste
the wine again.

You won't kiss the husband
of Bertha Mason?

No.

You say nothing.

You are thinking how to act.
I know you. I'm on my guard.

I do not wish
to act against you.

You will say, "this man
nearly made me his mistress,

I must be
ice and rock to him".

All is changed.
I must change, too.

There's only one way.

Adèle must have
a new governess.

Oh, Adèle will go to school.
I've arranged that already.

And you, Jane,

you shall not stay
in this accursed place,

this stone hell with
its imprisoned fiend.

How can you speak so of her?
She cannot help being mad.

Oh, Jane,
my little darling.

So I will call you
for so you are.

You misjudge me.

It's not because she's mad
that I hate her.

Look, I have a place
to retire to,

a secure retreat.

Tomorrow we shall go.

-We?
-We.

Together.

You are
to accompany me, Jane.

Ah, now for the hitch
in Jane's character.

Now for vexation,
exasperation, endless trouble.

Jane, will you
hear reason?

Sit down.
I will listen.

Oh, I'm so sorry.

I'm not angry, my darling.
I only love you too well.

Your little face was so steely
it drove me mad.

I couldn't endure it.
Hush now. Hush.

Oh, my dear.

Oh, Jane.

Jane.

You don't love me, then?

It was only my rank,
my station that you valued?

Now that you think me
disqualified to be your husband

you shrink back like
I was some toad or ape.

I do love you.
More than ever.

But this must be
the last time I say it.

Last time?

Mr. Rochester,
I must leave you.

Leave?

Now and for
the rest of my life!

Jane, you shall be my wife!
Do not call me married!

You shall be
Mrs. Rochester!

Oh, I will keep to you only,
so long as you and I live.

Oh, Jane, why do you
shake your head?

Sir, your wife
is still living!

Do not call me married!

Oh, Jane, let me
explain, please.

Please,
Jane, Jane, Jane.

Come, come.
Let me explain.

Trust me.
Trust me.

Come, come.

Come sit down.
Have a seat.

You know I broke with my
father and elder brother.

Mrs. Fairfax told me
something of the matter.

Well, they are both dead.
I have the estate now.

But they begrudged me
a farthing when I was young.

They sent out to Jamaica

and, unknown to me,

arranged my marriage
to this woman.

She was handsome then.

I was young, raw,

inexperienced.

I seldom saw her

and had little private
conversation with her.

She flattered me.
I was dazzled.

I thought I loved her.

A marriage was achieved
almost before I knew where I was.

Then she revealed herself:

drunken, foul-mouthed,

unchaste,

disgusting.

Disgusting.

I never loved.

I never esteemed.

I didn't even know her.

That was my marriage.

I could not rid myself
of it by any legal means,

for the doctors by now had
discovered that my wife was mad.

I've looked after her

as well as I can,
God help me.

I pity you.

I was wrong
to deceive you,

but I feared the stubbornness
in your nature.

I wanted to have you safe
before hazarding the truth.

This was cowardly.

I should have appealed to your noble
and generous heart from the first,

pledged my fidelity,
then asked for yours, as I do now.

Jane,

give it me now.

Why are you silent,
Jane?

You understand
what I want of you...

just this promise
to be mine.

I cannot be yours.

Jane, do you mean to go
one way in the world

and leave me
to go another?

I do.

-Do you mean it now?
-I do.

-And now?
-I do.

Oh, Jane, this is
bitter. It is wicked.

It would be wicked
to obey you!

But think of my life
when you are gone!

All happiness would be
torn away with me.

What shall I do, Jane?

Where turn for a companion?
Where turn for hope?

Do as I do.
Look to God in yourself.

Is it better to drive
a fellow creature,

a fellow human being
to despair

than to transgress
a mere human law,

no man being injured
in the breach?

Oh, never was anything at once
so frail and yet so indomitable.

A mere reed
she feels in my hand.

Oh, come to me, Jane.
Come to me.

-You're going?
-Yes.

You will not be
my comforter, my rescuer?

I am going.

Oh, Jane,

my hope,

my love,

my life.

God bless you.

God keep you
from harm and wrong

and reward you
for your kindness to me.

Your love would have been
my best reward.

Without it,
my heart is broken.

Please...

please,
do not follow me.

But you will
give me your love.

You will.

You will!

-Where are you going?
-Glossop.

-Where is that?
-It's a fair long way.

-How much must I pay to go there?
-30 shillings.

I have only 20.

That 'll take you
to Whitcross.

Thank you.

Get in.

Go on.

Whitcross.

I had left my parcel
on the coach,

and I had no money.

I was destitute.

And what may you
be wanting, Miss?

I am very tired.

May I please sit down
for a moment?

Can you tell me,
please,

is there any dressmaker or plain
needleworker in the village?

Aye. Quite as many
as there's work for.

Do you know of any place
where a servant is wanted?

Nay.
I couldn't say.

Is there any other work?

Only for men on the farms
and in Mr. Oliver's foundry.

What do the women do?

I know not.

Some does one thing,
some another.

Poor folk must get on
as best they can.

Good morning, Mrs. Drake.

Ah, Miss Welling.

I know what it is
you want, don't I?

2 nice fresh rolls as usual.
We love them for our tea.

Fresh from t'oven.

They do smell delicious.

Good morning, Mrs. Drake.

Thank you, ma'am.

Please,

would you give me a roll
for this handkerchief?

Nay. I don't sell stuff
in that way.

Half a roll
or a stale bun?

How do I know where you got
that handkerchief?

Will you take
my gloves?

What could I do
with 'em?

And I doubt if they're
honestly come by, either.

They are mine.

You take yourself off,
young woman.

I can't afford
to feed vagrants.

Subtitles revised and resynchronised
by Héctor Lahoz