All language subtitles for Jane Eyre (1973 ) s1e3.en

Mr Rochester had already departed and I
did not know it.

It's a mercy he wasn't burnt where he lay.

It's a wonder the master wake nobody.

There she sat.

Her commonplace features betraying no Mark
of a woman who had attempted murder.

Good morning Miss.

Good morning Grace.

I will put her to the test I thought.

Such absolute impenetrability is past
comprehension.

What has happened here?

Master was reading in bed last night.

He fell asleep with the candle lit and the
curtains got on fire.

But luckily a walk just in time.

And contrives to quench the flames with a
jug of water.

Strange.

Did he wake no one?

Did no one hear the disturbance?

The servants sleep too far off Miss.

Mrs Fairfax's room and yours are the
nearest.

Did you not hear anything?

I should say you were a light sleeper
Miss.

Yes I did and at first I thought it was
his dog Pilot.

Pilot cannot laugh.

It's hardly likely Master would have
laughed when in such danger Miss.

You must have been dreaming.

I was not.

You did not think to open your door and
look into the gallery.

She was cross-questioning me and I
realized if she discovered I knew her

guilt she could well play off some of her
malignancy upon my person.

On the contrary I bolted my door.

You do not always do that.

Hitherto I have not.

I was not aware of any danger to be
dreaded but in future I shall.

A wise precaution Miss.

This neighborhood is as quiet as any I've
known and I've never heard of the hall

being attacked by robbers
though there are hundreds

of pounds worth of plate
here as is well known.

But I have always
thought it best to err on

the safe side and a
door is soon flustened.

Her self-possession struck me dumb.

Such hypocrisy verged upon the miraculous
or the lunatic.

Ah Grace.

Good morning Miss Jane.

Grace the servant's dinner is ready.

Are you coming down?

No thank you ma'am.

If Cook will put my
pint of Porter and a bit

of pudding on a tray
I'll take it upstairs.

Leah.

You look flushed Miss Jane.

Are you feverish?

No I'm perfectly well.

Grace Poole told you of the fire?

Yes indeed she did.

I thank Providence Mr. Rochester awoke in
time.

The mist is cleared.

He'll have a favorable day for his
journey.

Journey?

Is Mr. Rochester gone anywhere?

I did not know he was out.

He set off the moment he had breakfasted.

He's gone to Mr. Eshton's place.

The Lees.

Ten miles beyond Millcote.

Quite a party is assembled there I
believe.

Lord Ingram, Sir George... Do you expect
him back tonight?

No.

Nor tomorrow either.

Oh Mr. Rochester is a general favorite in
society.

The ladies are very fond of him.

Though you would not
think that his appearance was

calculated to recommend
him particularly in their eyes?

There are ladies at the Lees.

Of course.

There'll be Mrs. Eshton and her three
daughters.

The Honorable Blanche and Mary Ingram.

Blanche is the belle of every ball in the
county.

She's greatly admired.

Oh indeed.

She's so tall, so graceful.

Raven hair with eyes as brilliant as her
jewels and so accomplished.

She plays and sings superbly.

And Miss Ingram is not yet married.

No no of course she could not be.

Are you sure you're not feverish Miss
Jane?

Oh no.

I wonder no wealthy gentleman has taken a
fancy to her.

Mr. Rochester for instance.

He is rich is he not?

Oh yes but there is a considerable
difference in age.

Mr. Rochester is nearly 40.

Miss Ingram but 25.

Already I pronounced judgment upon myself.

A greater fool than Jane Eyre had never
breathed the breath of life.

To have imagined myself a favorite of his.

I should not be surprised if
Mr. Rochester went straight

from the Lees to London
and from there to the continent.

He has often quitted
Thornfield quite as abruptly

and not shown his face
here again for a year.

Had a more fantastic idiot
than I ever surfeited herself

on sweet lies or swallowed
poison as if it were nectar.

To have derived pleasure from the
occasional equivocal tokens of preference

shown by a gentleman to a dependent,
a governess.

To have imagined love where there was mere
carelessness.

To let it kindle.

I made a vow and in a
fortnight I had accomplished the

wholesome discipline to which
I forced my feelings to submit.

The sentence I pronounced upon myself for
my blind puppyish imaginings towards Mr.

Rochester was to paint two portraits.

One of a governess.

Disconnected, poor, and plain.

And the other, this other I shall call
Blanche.

An accomplished lady of rank.

Bear, come!

Mr. Rochester and all the ladies!

Adele, how many times have I told you to
knock?

Oh, very well.

We'll go and see them coming from the
gallery.

Oh, it is just as I remember it.

Clearly you do not believe in change,
Signior Idoade.

Neither of the heart's affections nor of
places, Donna Bianca.

I must go now.

No, Adele.

Mrs. Fairfax, Mrs. Eshton, the Honorable
Miss Blanche Ingram.

It's a pleasure to see you again,
Mrs. Eshton.

My housekeeper will show you to your
rooms.

There you are, Miss Jane.

Oh, what a to-do!

The house hasn't seen such company for
years.

Oh, I'm flashed, as they say.

Still, now that they are all gone down,
I can rest a little.

You are requested in the drawing room
after dinner.

And Adele?

I need not go, surely.

Well, I did observe to Mr. Rochester that
you were unused to company.

Yes, indeed, I am.

And that I did not think you would like
appearing before so gay a party.

But he replied in his quick way,
you know.

Nonsense.

If she objects, tell her it is my
particular wish.

And if she resists, say that I will come
and fetch her.

Shall you be there?

Oh, no.

I pleaded off and he agreed.

But I have to go.

He was determined you should.

If you wish to avoid making a formal
entrance, which is quite the most

disagreeable part of the business,
you must slip into the drawing room while

they are all at dinner and choose your
seat in any nook you like.

Is that him?

Is that him?

No, Louisa, I never liked him one jot.

You did?

No, I did not like him.

He's a coarse fellow.

She did, did she not, Mama?

Who, dear?

John Reed of Gateshead.

Did you not hear, Mama?

Papa said that we... Oh, my dear, I
stopped listening to your father years ago.

When the father died,
there was no restraining

hand on the indulgences
of the young Duke.

The bachelors' rustic drawing room.

It seems, Mrs Dent, you have not
sufficiently studied the science of botany.

Not at all.

I simply like flowers, especially wild
ones.

You are very welcome, Madame.

And you, my little one.

But Mrs Dent, how can one like what one is
too ignorant to make?

Blanche, you're confusing Mrs Dent.

No, but how can one?

I must hear.

Well, I cannot tell.

One would know if one referred a Lily to a
dandelion.

Isn't she a love of the child?

Quite a little puppet.

And such a pretty dress.

Merci beaucoup, Madame.

I confess I regarded Blanche Ingram with
special interest.

First, to see whether
she resembled at all

the imagined miniature
I had painted of her.

In many points, she did.

And secondly, it will out
to discover if she was such

as I should fancy lightly
to suit Mr Rochester's taste.

I could not tell.

But to me, she appeared remarkably
self-conscious.

Where are the gentlemen?

Cannot stand female company.

So insipid.

Mr Rochester said they would be out of
men.

A piece of horse flesh.

You refuse to wager, Ingram?

Well, at such odds, who would not?

Miss Eshton, I dare swear your colour has
risen.

Has Miss Louisa been trailing you?

Oh, a little.

Give thanks you've not fallen prey to my
sister Blanche.

She's a cruel tease.

An ill-considered reform so which I fear
the Tories will live to repent.

What say you, Rochester?

I detest politics.

The calculated clashings of opposed party
interests.

Rutting's tags battling for the doubtful
favours of a docile public.

Senor Eduardo.

Donna Bianca.

I thought you detested children.

Usually, yes.

How did you come to take upon such a
little doll as that?

When did you pick her up?

She was left on my hands.

You should have sent her to school.

I could not afford to, Donna Bianca.

Really?

No, you tease.

I suppose you have a governess for her.

But I saw her person just now.

Is she gone?

No, she's still there.

I would have thought it quite as
expensive.

I've not considered the subject.

No, you men never do.

Oh, you should hear Mama on the subject of
governesses.

Mary and I have had a dozen.

Half of them detestable and the rest
ridiculous.

All incubi.

Were they not, Mama?

Did you speak, my own?

Of governesses, Mama.

Oh, don't, dearest.

I've suffered martyrdoms from their
incompetency and caprice.

We do have Miss Adele's governess here
with us.

Darfee?

Better hear what she will.

It may do her good.

I'm a judge of physiognomy.

And in her, I see all the faults of her
class.

And what are they, madam?

Ask Blanche.

She's as good a judge as I am.

I have only one word to say of the whole
tribe.

They're a nuisance.

Lacrimose, low-spirited creatures.

I see.

Signore Wado, I move the introduction of a
new topic.

And I second it, Donna Bianca.

Are you in good voice tonight?

If you command it.

Here, then, is a corsaire song.

Know that I dote on corsaires.

Banditi.

Any man with the devil in him.

Oh, young men of today, they're such puny
things.

They're not fit to stir a step beyond
pass-park gates.

Nor go so far without Mama's permission.

Creatures so absorbed
with care of their own pretty

looks, as if a man had
anything to do with beauty.

As if loveliness were not the special
prerogative of woman.

I Grant an ugly woman is a blot on the
face of creation.

But as to the gentlemen, let them possess
only strength to hunt, shoot and fight.

The rest is not worth a filip.

Do you know, Senor Eduardo?

How could I not, since it was you who
taught me it?

Then sing.

Conspirito.

My boat's by the tower, my box in the bay.

And both must be gone near the dawn of the
day.

The moon's in her shroud, but to guide
thee afar.

On the deck of the dairings, the
love-lighted star.

Then wake, lady, wake,
I am waiting for thee,

and this night or never
my bride thou shalt be.

Then wake, lady, wake,
I am waiting for thee,

and this night or never
my bride thou shalt be.

Jane?

Why did you not come and speak to me?

You seemed engaged, sir.

I did not wish to disturb you.

What have you been doing during my
absence?

Nothing in particular.

I've been teaching Adele as usual.

And getting a good deal paler than you
were as I saw it first sight.

Did you take cold that night you half
drowned me?

Not in the least.

Return to the drawing room.

You're deserting too early.

I'm tired, sir.

I'm depressed.

I'm not.

But I affirm you are.

So much depressed that a few more words
would bring tears.

Indeed, they're there shining.

If I had time, I would know what this
means.

Tonight I excuse you.

But not tomorrow, nor the next night.

Now go and send Sophie for Adele.

Good night.

Despite all intentions, all the dictates
of common sense, I had learned to love Mr.

Rochester.

That he would marry Blanche Ingram was
certain, however.

Though why was less so?

For family, perhaps political reasons.

But he had not given her his love.

That I knew.

Knowledge has.

no power to lessen pain.

We should have taken our excursion to view
a few wretched gypsies.

In the rain, my Lily flower.

Well, anything rather than this tedium.

Why don't you play billiards with the
others, dearest?

Please, mama.

And Mr. Mason has arrived, ma'am.

Well, if he's a gentleman, show him in.

It appears I come at an inopportune
time, madam, when my friend Mr.

Rochester is away on business.

He returns tonight.

I trust I may presume therefore to install
myself here till he returns.

I'm sure you may.

I come from a very long journey.

From Spanish town in Jamaica.

My daughter, Miss Ingram.

Give her, sir.

We must rest for dinner.

Come, my dear.

I cannot persuade her to go away,
m'lady.

A gypsy woman.

Dismiss her.

At once.

These low impostors.

I insist, I wish to.

My angel, I cannot countenance any such
inconsistent proceeding.

Oh, you can and you will.

I have a curiosity to hear my fortune
told.

I shall go first.

She looks such a rough one, ma'am.

A real tinkler.

Black as a crock.

Go, blockhead.

Miss Ingram, I think perhaps I ought to look
in upon her before any of the ladies go.

But the footman said she
would see no gentleman,

and of the ladies only
the young and single.

Even so?

Even so, I am determined to hear my
fortune told.

Had we gone out this afternoon,
I would have anyway.

My darling, recollect.

I beg of you.

I do.

I recollect all you can suggest.

But I will have my way.

Will you go, Mary?

From my part, I'd never dare venture.

Something of a masquerade, I suspected.

From the moment this gypsy woman's
presence was announced.

And did Rochester like the West Indies?

Scarcely at all.

Burning heats and the rainy seasons all
disagreed with this Constitution.

But this was some years back, you say?

He'd only just come of age, yes.

What did she say?

Is she a real gypsy?

Please don't press upon me.

I've seen a vagabond.

She has practiced her trade in hackneyed
fashion.

My whim is gratified.

And now I suggest that Mr. Eshton and
Colonel Dent put her out.

But we have not seen her yet.

Approach, Childer.

Come on, Mary.

Go on, Louisa.

But Mar, she told her son she knows all
about him.

I am sure she is not quite right.

If you please, Miss, the
gypsy declares that there's

another single lady who
has not been to him yet.

I thought it must be you.

What shall I tell you?

I will go, by all means.

If you like, Miss, I'll wait in the hall.

If she frightens you, just call and I'll
come in.

Oh, no, Sam.

I'm not in the least afraid.

Nor was I.

But I was a good deal interested.

Do not keep me long.

The fire scorches me.

The eye is favourable.

It is soft and full of feeling.

As to the mouth, it would like to laugh
more.

Indeed, it ought to.

While the forehead declares, reason sits
firm and holds the reins, she will not let

her feelings burst away and hurry her to
wild chasms.

You do not speak like a gypsy,
Mother.

You have no faith.

Your impudence said so.

Your fortune is yet doubtful.

Chance has meted you a measure of
happiness.

It depends on yourself to stretch out your
hand and take it up.

You smile at my jargon.

And at your voice, Sir.

What?

And the ring on your hand also.

You witch!

Off!

Ye lendings!

There are strings in a knot.

Help me, Jane.

Break it, Sir.

Well, did you like my charade?

Was it well carried out?

You managed very well with the other
ladies.

But not with you?

No.

You did not act the character of a gypsy
with me.

Did I not?

Whose then?

My own?

Oh, no.

Some unaccountable one.

Hmm.

And the others, what did they say about
me?

That you knew everything about them.

Which of course you do.

And Miss Ingram, what did she say?

Say it is past 11 o'clock.

I must go.

No, stay!

I am not here, remember?

So we are free.

Oh, but Miss Ingram is expecting your
return from business this evening.

What if she does?

Mr. Rochester, are you aware that a stranger
has arrived since you left this morning?

What stranger?

I was expecting no one.

Is he gone?

No.

He said he has known
you for many years and

would install himself
here till you returned.

The devil he did.

Did he give his name?

As Mason, Sir.

Mason?

He comes from the West Indies,
from Jamaica, I think.

Mason.

Well, you will, Sir.

Jane.

Jane!

Lean on me, Sir.

As I did before.

Mason.

Where is he now?

In the drawing room, Sir.

And the others?

What are they doing?

Laughing and talking.

They don't look grave or mysterious,
as if they had heard something strange.

No.

They are full of jest and gaiety.

Jane, if all my guests came in a body and
spat on me, what would you do?

I would turn them out of the room,
if I could, Sir.

And if I went to them and they looked at
me coldly, whispered and sneered behind my

back, and one by one dropped off and left
me, what then?

Would you go with them?

I should have more pleasure in staying
with you.

To comfort me?

As well as I could.

And if they laid you under a ban for
adhering to me?

I should care nothing for that.

You dare censure for my sake?

As I would for any friend.

As you would too, I'm sure, Sir.

Go back now.

Step quietly after Mason.

Whisper that I'm returned and wish to see
him here.

Then leave us.

Yes, Sir.

Well, Dick,

you bird of ill omen.

I had forgotten to draw my curtain,
which I usually did.

The consequence was that when the moon,
which was full and bright, came in her

course to that space in the
sky opposite my casement,

her glorious gaze browsed
me in the dead of night.

Her disc was silver-white, crystal-clear.

It was beautiful, but too solemn.

My pulse stopped.

My heart stood still.

My stretched arm was paralyzed.

The cry was not renewed.

But what being could have delivered such
an utterance?

Jet, did you hear that?

Jet, keep calm.

I will raise Rochester.

I think it came from that direction over
there.

Never mind, dear.

Mr. Rochester will tell us what it was.

I expect it was nothing.

Where the devil is Rochester, I cannot
find him in his room.

What was it?

Here.

Be composed, all of you.

What awful event has taken place.

Speak.

Let us know what has happened.

All's right.

All's right.

But that cry...

A mere rehearsal of much ado about
nothing.

Ladies, keep off or I shall wax dangerous!

A servant has had a nightmare,
that is all.

She is a nervous, excitable person.

She construed her dream into an apparition
and has taken a fit with fright.

Now, I must see you all back to your
rooms.

For until the house is settled,
she cannot be properly looked after.

Gentlemen, have the goodness to set the
ladies the example.

Miss Ingram, I am sure you will not fail
in evincing superiority to idle terrors.

Good night.

You'd better go back to bed, dear.

A servant's dream
was merely an invention

Mr. Rochester had
framed to pacify his guests.

I waited, for I knew not what.

For it seemed to me that some event must
follow that strange cry.

Up and dressed.

Oh, I thought I might be wanted,
sir.

Yes, come this way.

No, wait.

Have you a sponge?

Yes, sir.

And salts.

Voluntarily salts.

Yes.

Fetch them.

You don't turn sick at the sight of blood.

I think I shall not.

I've never been tried yet.

Give me your hand.

Warm and steady.

Good.

Come.

Wait.

Rochester.

Is there... Is there
any immediate danger?

It's a mere scratch.

Bear up now.

Salts.

I'm going to fetch the surgeon myself,
Big.

He'll be removed from here before morning.

Jane.

Sir?

I must leave you alone with this
gentleman.

For an hour.

Maybe two.

Sponge the blood as it returns.

If he faints, use your salts.

And don't speak to him.

Dick.

It will be on peril of your life if you
attempt to speak.

Open your mouth.

Say one word and I shall not answer for
the consequences.

Remember, no conversation.

No.

What crime was this that lived incarnate
in this sequestered mansion and could

neither be expelled nor subdued by its
owner?

What creature was it that masked in an
ordinary woman's face and shape,

utter the voice now of a mocking demon,
then of a carrion seeking bird of prey,

and hardly separated from me but by a
single door?

And this quiet stranger so commonplace.

How was he involved in the web of horror?

Not only cut by a knife, but teeth marks.

She...

She bit me.

She... swallowed
me like a tigress.

You should have grappled with her at once.

Jane, fetch his cloak.

Hurry, Carter, hurry!

I must have him away from here before the
house stirs.

She seemed so... so quiet at first.

I warned you it was folly to attempt the
interview tonight and alone.

She sucked the blood.

She said she drained my heart.

Courage, man.

Never mind her gibberish.

Carter.

Ready.

I shall ride over in a day or two to see
how he gets on.

Rochester.

Let her be taken care of.

Even if she... I do my best.

I have done and I will do.

Away with you!

Thought to God there was an end of all
this.

Jane.

Sir?

Come with me.

Will you have a flower?

Thank you, sir.

Were you frightened when I left you alone
with Mason?

Very.

I feared lest some... someone
come from the inner room.

But I'd lock the door.

I should have been a
careless Shepherd if I'd left

a lamb, my pet lamb, so
near a wolf's den unguarded.

Will Grace Poole continue to live here,
sir?

Yes.

And the danger you feared last night from
Mr. Mason?

Is that now gone?

Not till he's out of England.

To live for me is to stand upon a crater
crust, Jane.

But Mr. Mason seems a man easily led.

He would not defy you, surely?

No.

Not knowingly hurt me.

But unintentionally he might.

One careless word, Jane, could deprive me,
if not of life, yet forever of happiness.

But tell him so, sir.

If I could do that simpleton, then where
would the danger be?

You look puzzled.

I will puzzle you further.

You... You're my
friend, are you not?

I like to serve you, sir, and obey you in
all that is right.

Yes, in all that is right.

Yes.

You're implacable, Jane.

Properly so.

But suppose you're no longer a girl,
well-reared and disciplined, but a wild

boy as I was, indulged from childhood
upwards.

Imagine yourself in a remote foreign land.

Conceive that you commit there a capital
error.

Mind, I do not say crime.

My word is error.

The results of which dog you all your
life.

Suppose twenty world-weary
years after you discover a stranger

whose goodness and true
qualities revive you, regenerate you.

What then, sir?

Yes.

What then?

Is the wandering and
sinful but repentant man

justified in overleaping
an obstacle of custom?

A mere conventional impediment
in order to attach to him

this gentle, gracious stranger
who can work his reformation?

I think not, sir.

Salvation should never depend on a fellow
creature, but on God.

But God ordains the instrument.

And I believe I have found the instrument
for my cure.

in... in Miss Ingram.

Don't you think if I married her,
she'd regenerate me with a vengeance?

She's a rare one.

Is she not, Jane?

You say nothing?

Yes, sir.

A deliberate silence, I see.

Bless me, there's Ingram and Linup
already.

Go in by the shrubbery, through the
wicket.

Mason got the start of you all this
morning.

He was gone before sunrise.

Yes?

I dare say you hardly remember me,
Miss.

Name is Leaven.

I lived coachman with Mrs. Reeder Gates at
all.

Why, Robert, I remember you well.

How are you?

I live there still.

I remember you used to give me rides
sometimes on Miss Giordiana's pony.

Oh, and how is Bessie?

You are married to Bessie?

Yes, Miss, she's very hearty.

Thank you.

And Mrs. Reed?

I hope no one is dead.

Mr. John died yesterday was a week in
London.

And how does his mother bear it?

Well, that's why I've come, Miss.

The terrible news gave her a stroke.

She was three days without speaking.

But last Tuesday she asked for you,
Miss.

For me?

You kept calling your name.

Mr. John's death was a suicide,
Miss, you see.

It ruined his health and the estate.

Mrs. Reeder had been ill for some time
before he...

with the worry of it.

She insists you come, Miss.

Bring Jane Eyre.

I must speak with her.

Keep saying it.

Go?

Where to go?

Gateshead Hall in Derbyshire, Sir.

Why?

To see a sick lady who was sent for me.

Her name is Reed.

Reed of Gateshead?

There was a magistrate
called... It is his widow, Sir.

Mr. Reed was my uncle.

My mother's brother.

The deuce he was.

You always said you had no relations.

None that would own me.

Mr. Reed died and his wife cast me off.

Why?

Because I was poor and burdensome.

She disliked me.

Then leave her where she is.

It's nonsense, Jane, to go to such a
person who cast you off.

But that was long ago, Sir, and she is
dying, they think.

Her son, John Reed, committed suicide a
week ago.

John Reed, yes.

Ingram was saying only yesterday.

One of the various rascals in town.

Sir, I could not be easy to neglect what
may be Mrs. Reed's last wishes.

How long will you stay?

Promise me not more than a week.

I better not pass my word, Sir.

I might be obliged to break it.

You'll come back.

You'll not be induced under any pretext to
take up residence with her.

No, Sir.

Must you think not?

Who goes with you?

You cannot travel so far alone.

Mrs. Reed has sent her coachman.

Is he to be trusted?

He has been with the family ten years,
Sir.

Well... when do you want to go?

Early tomorrow.

You'll need money.

I've given you no salary yet.

How much have you in the world,
Jane?

Five shillings, Sir.

There you are, Senor Eduardo.

I insist you play.

UN momento, Donna Bianca.

Surely you can deal with that person
later, Mr. Rochester.

I am engaged, Miss Ingram.

I shall come to you when I'm at Liberty.

His manners scarcely seem that of a
loving, prospective bridegroom.

Here.

Take your wages.

But that is fifty pounds, Sir.

You owe me but fifteen.

I have no change.

I don't want any change.

You know that.

I will not take it, Sir.

Obstinate.

Yes.

Right.

I better not give you all at once.

You may stay away three months.

There is ten.

Is that enough?

Plenty.

Plenty, Sir.

But now you owe me five.

Come back for it then.

I will be your banker.

Sir, there is another matter of business.

There is?

What?

You have as good as informed me that
you're shortly to be married.

Yes.

In that case, I think Adele ought to go to
school.

To?

To keep her out of my bride's way.

Yes.

There is sense in the suggestion.

Yes.

Adele must go to school.

And you, of course, must march straight to
the devil.

I hope not, Sir.

But I must seek another situation.

Somewhere.

Of course.

Perhaps I should advertise, Sir.

You shall walk up the pyramids of Egypt at
your peril, you advertise.

I wish I'd only given you a sovereign.

Give me back nine pounds, Jane.

I've a use for it.

And so have I, Sir.

You little niggered.

Just let me look at the money again.

No.

You are not to be trusted.

Hmm.

Jane, promise me not to advertise and I
will seek a situation for you.

Is that a bargain?

Yes, Sir.

If you in your turn will
promise that both Adele and I

shall be safe out of this house
before your bride enters it.

Very well.

Shall you come down after dinner tonight?

No, Sir.

I must prepare for the journey.

Then we must say goodbye now.

For a little while.

Yes.

I suppose so.

And how do people perform that ceremony?

Teach me.

I'm not quite up to it.

They say farewell or any other form they
prefer.

Then say it.

Farewell, Mr. Rochester.

For the present.

And what must I say?

The same.

Farewell, Ms. Eyre.

For the present.

Is that all?

Yes.

It seems stingy to my notions and dry and
unfriendly.

If one shook hands.

No, that will not content me either.

Farewell, Jane.

Your back is to the door, Sir.

So it is.

Jane Eyre?

Jane Eyre?

You Jane Eyre?

I am.

Oh, fiend of a child.

Deceitful.

I was glad to get out of the house.

What did they do with her at Lowood?

The fever broke out there.

Many pupils died.

She did not die.

Oh, no.

I wish she had.

I wish she had.

Strange wish, Aunt Reed.

Aunt?

Who calls me Aunt?

I do.

Jane Eyre.

You sent for me.

Sent?

Why did I send?

She's dead.

I said she was dead.

Those eyes.

That forehead.

You're like Jane Eyre.

I wanted to see her.

I cannot move a limb.

I wronged Jane Eyre.

Are you she?

You're like her.

Yes, Aunt.

I am.

An unnatural child.

Go to my dressing case.

There's a letter.

Read it.

Read it to me.

Madam, will you have the goodness to send
me the address of my niece?

Jane Eyre.

It is my intention to write shortly and
desire her to come to Madeira.

Providence has blessed my labors to secure
a competency.

And as I am unmarried and childless,
I wish to adopt Jane Eyre during my life

and bequeath her at my death whatever I
have to leave.

I am, Madam, most sincerely yours,
John Eyre, Madeira.

But why did I not hear of this?

It is dated three years back.

And I disliked you too fixedly.

The fury you turned on
me when you declared you

abhorred me, the worst
of anyone in the world.

But I was a child.

So that I wrote that you were dead,
dead of the fever at Lowood School.

Now, act as you please.

Expose my falsehood, if you will.

You were born, I think, to be my torment.

Many a time as a child I would have been
happy to love you.

Now I long to be reconciled.

Kiss me, aren't we?

Never!

I hate Jane Eyre, a fiend of a child.

You should be dead!

And then, my falsehood.

would come true.

Poor, suffering woman.

It was too late for her to change her
habitual frame of mind.

Living, she hated me.

And she died hating me.

A strange and solemn object was that
corpse to me.

Her brow and lineaments wore yet the shape
of her inexorable soul.

I gazed on it with gloom and pain.

A somber, tearless dismay at the
fearfulness of death in such a form.

And to think how desperately I'd longed
for love from her.