Navigation of key scenes
[Talking with Hannah] [Uncle John is dead] [A schoolteacher] [Renouncing the alias] [A second proposal] [Ferndean]

JANE (voiceover)
Tis not pleasant to dwell upon the details of my destitution. After two days on the moors without food, with this feeling of faintness and chill. Must I lay my head again on the cold drenched ground? Shall I be an outcast again this night? Oh some people say there is enjoyment in looking back on painful experience past. I do not. (sees a light) The light was yet there, shining dim and constant through the rain. (looks into a window) How desolate, how desperate my own position seemed compared with these. They are all delicacy and dedication. I'd nowhere seen such faces as they had. Yet beg from them I must or die.

(Jane knocks on the door of the house)

HANNAH
What's your business at this hour?

JANE
May I speak to your mistresses?

HANNAH
Not you! What can they do for you?

JANE
A night's shelter, an outhouse, anywhere, and a morsel of bread. Don't shut the door!

HANNAH
I must, the rain's driving in.

JANE
Let me see the young ladies.

Hannah
Indeed I won't, you aren't what you ought to be, move off! I fear you've some ill plans agate.

JANE
Oh but I will.! (the door is shut)

JANE (voiceover)
sighs Not only the anchor of hope, but a footing of fortitude was gone.
aloud
I can but die. I believe in God, let me try to await his will in silence.

ST. JOHN
All men must die,

JANE
Who speaks?

ST. JOHN
. but all are not condemned to meet a premature doom. (knocks on the door)

HANNAH
Is that you Mr. St. John?

ST. JOHN
Yes, open quickly.

HANNAH
Oh come in! Such a wild night, you're sisters were uneasy. and there's been bad folks about, there's a beggar woman. not gone yet? Get up! For shame!

ST. JOHN
Hush, Hannah. You did your duty in excluding. Let me do mine in admitting her.

HANNAH
Mr. St. John!

ST. JOHN
I must examine into this case Hannah. (Hannah walks into the house) Come woman, rise.

(Jane is helped into the house and to the fireside of the kitchen)

HANNAH
Is she ill or only famished?

ST. JOHN
The latter, I think. Warm some milk.

DIANA
What is your name?

JANE
Jane. Elliot.

DIANA
Where do you live? Where are your friends?

JANE
None, I have none. (faints)
(It is morning, and Jane is sleeping. St. John and Diana enter)I

DIANA
Poor, pallid wanderer. It is as well we took her in.

ST. JOHN
Her state of lethargy is due to excessive and protracted fatigue. Rather an unusual physiognomy, not indicative of vulgarity or degradation. She looks sensible, but not at all handsome.

DIANA
She's not an uneducated person, her accent was quite pure.

ST. JOHN
I imagine she'll recover rapidly enough. (both leaves)

(Another morning)

JANE (voiceover)
On the third day I was better. On the fourth I could speak, move.

(Jane sees her cleaned dress. Time elapse and now she is in the kitchen with Hannah, sitting in a chair by the fire)

HANNAH
Did you ever go a-begging before?

JANE
I'm no beggar, anymore than yourself or your young ladies.

HANNAH
Oh, I don't understand that, you've like no house and no brass?

JANE
The want of a house and brass, by which I suppose you mean money, does not make me a beggar.

HANNAH
Are you book-learned?

JANE
Yes, very. What are you going to do with those gooseberries?

HANNAH
Wrap them into pies.

JANE
Oh let me pick them! Top and tail.

HANNAH
Nay, I don't want you to do naught.

JANE
Please, I must do something.

HANNAH
You'll need a towel, least you mucky your dress. (Puts towel on Jane's lap) Oh, you've not been used to servant's work- I see by your hands. Have you ever been to school?

JANE
Yes, I was at a boarding school eight years.

HANNAH
Eight? Whatever can't you keep yourself for then?

JANE
Oh I have. I trust I shall again. But never mind where I've been- tell me the name of this house.

HANNAH
Oh, some call it Marsh End and some call it Moor House.

JANE
And the gentleman who lives here?

HANNAH
Oh [.] Mr. St. John. He has his own parish at Morton.

JANE
He's a parson?

HANNAH
Aye, downhill. This was his father's house of Mr. Rivers.

JANE
So his name is Mr. St. John Rivers.

HANNAH
Aye and his sisters are Diana and Mary.

JANE
Their father is dead you said?

HANNAH
Aye, three weeks since- a stroke.

JANE
And they have no mother?

HANNAH
Mistress has been dead this many a year. I've lived with the family for thirty. I nursed them all three.

JANE
That proves you must have been an honest and faithful servant. I will say that much for you though you had the incivility to call me a beggar.

HANNAH
Oh you mun' forgive me, so many cheats go about.

JANE
But you wished to turn me from the door. And on such a night as you should not have shut out a dog.

HANNAH
Oh it were hard, but I though more of the children then on myself. They've like nobody to take care of them but me. I'm like to look sharpish. You mun'ut think too hardly of me.

JANE
No, but I do. Not so much because you refused me shelter. I might have been an imposter, but just now you made it a species of reproach that I had no brass and no house. Some of the best people that ever lived had been as destitute as I am. If you're a Christian, you should not consider poverty a crime.

HANNAH
No more I ought. Mr. St. John tells me so too. I see I was wrong. Oh but I have a clear different notion on you now to what I had. (laughs) You look a right down decent little creature.

JANE
I forgive you now. (both shake hands)

(In the parlour. St. John is cross-questioning Jane while Diana and Mary look on.)

ST. JOHN
I accept your account of yourself. And I shall respect your reluctance to divulge the reason for your leaving your post as well as indeed your whereabouts of that employment Miss Elliot.
(Jane looks up in surprise)
You said your name was Jane Elliot?

JANE
Yes, I did. And it is the name I think it expedient to be called at present, but it is not my real name and to hear it sounds strange.

ST. JOHN
Your real name you will not give?

JANE
No. I fear discovery and whatever disclosure might lead to it, I avoid.

DIANA
I'm sure you're right. Now do brother, let her be at peace for awhile.

ST. JOHN
I cannot, Diana, if I am to give the aid that this lady requests. You desire to be independent of us?

JANE
Oh yes, I do. Show me work or how to seek it, that is all I ask. Then let me go. But till then let me stay here, I dread another essay of the horrors of homeless destitution.

DIANA
Indeed you shall stay here.

MARY
You must.

ST. JOHN
My sisters you see have a pleasure in keeping you as they would in cherishing a wild bird with a broken wing. But I feel more inclination to put you in the way of keeping yourself. But I observe, my sphere is narrow, I'm but the incumbent of a poor country parish. My help must be of the humblest kind.

DIANA
She said she is willing to do anything honest she can do. Why are you so crusty St. John?

ST. JOHN
Some people are inclined to despise the day of small things, Diana.

JANE
Oh I wouldn't! I'll be a dressmaker, or plain workwoman, servant, nursegirl, if I can do no better.

ST. JOHN
Right. If such is your true spirit, I promise to aid you.

(Jane is now sitting by a river while Diana and Mary pick berries)

JANE (voiceover)
And had I forgotten Mr. Rochester all this while? Not for a moment. His idea was still with me, because it was not a vapour sunshine could disperse. It was a name graven on a tablet, fated to last as long as the marble it inscribed. Diana and Mary became as two sisters to me. Our natures dovetailed. The strongest mutual affection was the result. Their brother however was another matter.

(Diana and Mary approach Jane and they leave. Now we see St. John sitting and reading a letter while in the parlour. Jane, Diana, and Mary enter the hallway)

ST. JOHN
Diana! Mary!

MARY
We shall have wintry pie for supper St. John.

ST. JOHN
Come through, I beg of you.

(Hannah approaches Jane in the kitchen))

HANNAH
Why Miss Jane, you have picked a quantity.

JANE
(laughs) Oh Diana and Mary did, I just idled by the stream.

HANNAH
Quite right, you gather your strength

(Both laugh. Now in the parlour with St. John, Diana, and Mary)

DIANA
Nothing?

ST. JOHN
No.
DIANA
Amen, we can yet live.

MARY
It makes us no worse off then we were before.

ST. JOHN
Only it forces rather strongly on the mind, the picture of what might have been had our uncle chosen, and contrasts somewhat too vividly with what is.

(St. John gets up and goes through the kitchen to leave the house. Jane is in the kitchen and calls him back)

JANE
Is anything wrong?

ST. JOHN
A private matter. (leaves)

(Jane goes into the parlour where Diana and Mary are sitting)

JANE (voiceover)
Both sisters seemed struck. The tidings, whatever they were, seemed more momentous than afflicting.
(aloud)
What has occurred?

DIANA
Yes of course. Our uncle John has died. You may think us hard-hearted not to be more moved by the death of so near a relation, but we have never known him or seen him. My father and he quarreled long ago, and it was through Uncle John's advice that father lost most of his property in a speculation.

MARY
Father always cherished the idea that he would atone by leaving us a competency. But he has not.

DIANA
We are all to receive 30 guineas between us to purchase mourning rings.

JANE
Oh, I am sorry.

DIANA
We were of course foolish to hope.

(Evening. In the parlour. St. John is reading to the rest of the family)

ST. JOHN
Fufill now, oh Lord, the desires and petitions of thy servants as may be most expedient for them. Granting in this world, knowledge of thy truth. And in the world to come, life everlasting.

JANE, DIANA, MARY, HANNAH
Amen

(They get up to say goodnight to St. John)

HANNAH
Good night Mr. St. John.

ST. JOHN
Goodnight Hannah.

(Diana and Mary get a kiss on the cheek. Jane is next in line)

ST. JOHN
Will you stay a moment?

DIANA
Goodnight brother.

MARY
Goodnight brother.

ST. JOHN
Goodnight.

JANE
You have heard of employment for me?

ST. JOHN
Yes, but it is a service of poverty and obscurity. You may even think it degrading. My parish at Morton requires a school for girls. And that school requires a mistress. Will you take the post?

JANE
Oh yes. I thank you with all my heart.

ST. JOHN
But you comprehend? It is a village school, your scholars will be poor girls quite unlettered. There is a small cottage also, attached to the school- two rooms only. It will be a monstrous labour.

JANE
I understand what I undertake.

ST. JOHN
Very well. So be it.

(Now in Jane's cottage with a girl sweeping up while Jane is painting)

RUTH
I'm going to be going now, Miss Elliot.

JANE
Oh thank you Ruth. Home you go then. Take your wages. (offers an orange)

RUTH
Oh thank you ma'am. You pictured our school just like.

JANE
Oh, do you think so?

RUTH
Aye, ma'am

JANE
Oh Ruth, tell Mary Garrett not to forget the holly she promised for tomorrow.

RUTH
No, ma'am. Goodnight.

JANE
Night, Ruth.

JANE (voiceover)
I thought myself happy. Had I not made the right choice? Shunning temptation, adhering to principle. My labours as a school mistress were now rewarded in the village, by cordial salutations. I lived amidst general regard. Why then, do I find myself weeping?

(there is a knock on the door)

ST. JOHN
I cannot stay long. I've only brought a little parcel my sisters sent me yesterday, and their letter too, it is addressed to you too as well as myself.

JANE
Thank you.

ST. JOHN
I think it's a colourbox, some pencils and paper. But you must open it. (dexterously tears off a bit of paper with "Jane Eyre" written on it)

JANE
Oh you are right. Tis most welcome.

ST. JOHN
I hear nothing but praise of you in all sides of the village. Your pupil's progress has been remarkable. You know begin to enjoy a sense of tranquility Jane?

JANE
I do not repine.

ST. JOHN
Nor look back?

JANE
I feel my solitude occasionally. Once the day's work is done.

ST. JOHN
Of course. It is hard to control the workings of inclination and turn the bent of nature. But it may be done. I know from experience. A year ago, I was myself, intensely miserable because I thought I'd made a mistake in entering the ministry. It's uniform duties wearied me to death. I burned for the more active life of world, for the destiny of an artist, author, orator, politician. Anything rather than a priest, yes. A soldier even. But God all the while had given me an errand to bear which afar I needed all the skills and strengths of soldier, statesman, and orator. For all these center in the good missionary. And so I resolved to be. From that moment, all doubts cleared, the fetters dissolved, I had bent my nature to the will of God. So may you Jane.

JANE
Oh, I wonder.

(A week later. Another evening in Jane's cottage. It is near Christmas)

JANE
You still have not said why you braved this snow to come?

ST. JOHN
I grew tired of my mute books and empty room. Besides, since yesterday, I have experienced the excitement of a person to whom a tale has been told. I am impatient to hear the sequel.

JANE
I wish Diana and Mary could come and live with you.

ST. JOHN
They of the poor must work.

JANE
Have you heard from them?

ST. JOHN
Not since the letter I brought you last week.

JANE
And your own arrangements with the missionary society? You've not been summoned away sooner than expected?

ST. JOHN
No, would that I had. But such a chance is too good to befall me. Now, I spoke of a tale half told. Let me assume the part of narrator, though I must warn you the story may sound somewhat hackneyed in your ears. Twenty years ago, a poor curate fell in love with a rich man's daughter, and she with him. They married, the girl's family at once disowned her. Within two years, the rash pair were dead, I have seen their grave. They left a daughter.

JANE
Mr. Rivers.

ST. JOHN
Charity received her- carried the friendless thing to the house of it's rich maternal relations to be reared by an aunt-in-law. I come to names now. She was called Mrs. Reed of Gateshead.

JANE
Do not trouble yourself to tell me the rest.

ST. JOHN
After ten years, Mrs. Reed transferred this orphan to Lowood School, where you so long resided. Finally she left to be a governess, as you did, to undertake the education of the ward of a certain Mr. Rochester.

JANE
Mr. Rivers I do not wish to hear more.

ST. JOHN
I must insist. Of Mr. Rochester's character I know nothing but the fact that he proposed honourable marriage to this young girl. And at the very altar she discovered he had a wife yet alive, though a lunatic. What his subsequent conduct and proposals were, I do not know but the governess fled. And every research after her as so far, been in vain. Yet that she should be found has become a matter of urgency.

JANE
Why? Do you have news of Mr. Rochester? How is he? Where is he? What's he doing? Is he well?

ST. JOHN
You should rather ask the name of the governess; of the nature of the event that requires her appearance.

JANE
You know nothing of Mr. Rochester?

ST. JOHN
No more than I have imparted.

JANE
Oh.

ST. JOHN
And that I learned from a letter of the solicitor- a Mr. Briggs. His informant was a lady- Alice Farifax. Briggs wrote to me of a Jane Eyre. I knew a Jane Elliot. You will, I hope, forgive me, this caught my eye the last time I called. (shows Jane the slip of paper) You must have written your true name in an idle moment.

JANE
Yes, I must have.

ST. JOHN
You own the name and renounce the alias?

JANE
Oh of course. But did no one go to Thornfield?

ST. JOHN
You forget essential points in pursing trifles. You did not ask why Mr. Briggs sought after you.

JANE
Well what did he want?

ST. JOHN
Merely to tell you that your Uncle, Mr. Eyre of Madeira, is dead, that he has left you all his property and that you are now rich.

JANE
I? Oh, but I cannot be.

ST. JOHN
Yes. Rich. Quite an heiress.

JANE (voiceover)
It is a fine thing to be lifted in a moment from poverty to wealth, but it is not a matter one can comprehend all at once.

ST. JOHN
Still you do not ask how much you are worth.

JANE
How much?

ST. JOHN
Oh, nothing much to speak of. A trifling twenty thousand pounds. Well if you were a murderess discovered you could scarcely look more aghast.

JANE
But it is a large sum. Don't you think there's been a mistake? Perhaps you read the figures wrong.

ST. JOHN
It is written in words, not figures. Twenty thousand. Well, I must leave you to your sorrows.

JANE
Wait. It puzzles me why this solicitor should write to you.

ST. JOHN
The clergy are often appealed to about odd matters.

JANE
No, that does not satisfy me.

ST. JOHN
Another time, it is late.

JANE
No, tonight!

ST. JOHN
I should rather not.

JANE
Oh, but you shall! You must.

ST. JOHN
Very well, it is simple enough. You are not perhaps aware that I am your namesake? That I was christened St. John Eyre Rivers.

JANE
No.
(voiceover)
In an instant, by instinct, I knew how the matter stood.
(aloud)
Eyre was your mother's name?

ST. JOHN
Yes it was, she had two brothers.

JANE
One my father, the other my uncle of Madeira.

ST. JOHN
You have guessed correctly.

JANE
Then, you and Diana and Mary are my cousins?

ST. JOHN
We are cousins, yes.

JANE
Now. now I have found wealth indeed. Wealth to the heart. Oh I am glad!

ST. JOHN
Did I not say you neglected essentials to chase trifles? You were serious a moment ago when I had told you that you had got a fortune, now for a matter of no moment, you are excited.

JANE
What can you mean? Oh it may be of no importance to you, you have sisters and do not care for a cousin. But I had nobody, and now three relations, or two if you do not wish to be counted, are born into my world full grown. Oh I say again, I am glad. (give St. John a kiss on the cheek)

ST. JOHN
Have I not said you are guided too much by the heart's affections Jane?

JANE
Oh I am! I confess it, so much so that I. Oh you must write to Diana and Mary and tell them to come home directly. I intend to benefit them with five thousand pounds apiece. And you also.

ST. JOHN
Jane, you really must tranquilize your feelings.

JANE
But why? You cannot fail to see that twenty thousand pounds, divided equally between the four of us, gives five thousand pounds!

ST. JOHN
No, this is acting on first impulses.

JANE
Yes, and it is also just. Our uncle. Our uncle should have done what I propose. Three mourning rings?

ST. JOHN
Possibly, but he did not, therefore no division is necessary and you may with a clear conscience consider the entire fortune absolutely your own.

JANE
Oh, but I could not. And I shall not.

(Back at Moor House. Diana, Mary, St. John and Hannah are singing "God Rest Ye Merry Gentleman" and Jane comes in and gives presents to each of them)

DIANA, MARY, ST. JOHN, HANNAH
God rest ye merry gentlemen, let nothing you dismay.
Remember Christ your Savior was born on Christmas day

JANE (voiceover)
My insistence was rewarded. Moor House refurbished, the legacy divided justly, immutably. Even our lawyers smiled to see natural justice performed. It was a time of holiday and we were all content, save St. John. He had another master to serve. (scene change to show St. John writing in the parlour) His was the ambition of the high master spirit which aims to fill a place in the first rank of those who are redeemed from earth.

ST. JOHN
Jane. What are you doing?

JANE
Learning German. As well as I'm able.

ST. JOHN
Will you help me study Hindostanee?

JANE
You are not in earnest!

ST. JOHN
It will be a great service. I would have asked my sisters but I have observed in you a greater capacity for application. Will you do me and God this favour?

(St. John and Jane are both studying)

ST. JOHN
Jane, may I interrupt this lesson? It is important.

JANE
Of course.

ST. JOHN
I leave for India in six weeks.

JANE
God will protect you. You have undertaken his work.

ST. JOHN
Yes, there is my glory and joy. I am the servant of an infallible master. It seems strange to me that all around me do not burn to enlist under the same banner.

JANE
All have not your powers. It would be folly for the feeble to attempt to march with the strong.

ST. JOHN
I do not speak to the feeble Jane. You are not feeble.

JANE
I?

ST. JOHN
Neither in spirit nor body. Jane, come with me to India. Come as my helpmate and fellow laborer.

JANE (voiceover)
It was as if I heard the summons from heaven. But I was no apostle.
(aloud)
Oh sir, have some mercy.

ST. JOHN
God intended you for a missionary's wife. It is not personal, but mental adornments he has given you. You were formed for a labour, not for love. A missionary's wife you must, shall be. I claim you. Not for my pleasure but for my sovereign's service.

JANE
I am not fitted for it. I have no vocation.

ST. JOHN
Who is fit for the work? None, yet we are chosen.

JANE
I know nothing of a missionary life, I've never studied missionary labours.

ST. JOHN
Then I can help you, Jane. I can set your task from hour to hour.

JANE
Where are my powers for such an undertaking? I do not feel them. Do not persuade me to attempt what I cannot perform.

ST. JOHN
You can. Have I not observed you? In the village school you've performed well a labour uncongenial to your inclinations. In the calm of which you learnt of your inheritance, I read of the mind clear of the vice of Demas. Lucre has no undue power over you. In the resolute readiness in which you cut your wealth into four shares, I recognized a soul that reveled in the flame and excitement of sacrifice. Jane, you are docile, diligent, courageous, very gentle, and very heroic. Cease to mistrust yourself, I trust you unreservedly. As a conductress of Indian schools and a helper among Indian women, your assistance will be to me, invaluable.

JANE (voiceover)
My iron shroud contracted round me. I could do what he wanted, if life were spared me. He would never love me. But, oh, he'd approve me! I would show him such energies, resources he had never suspected I possessed.

ST. JOHN
Your answer Jane?

JANE (voiceover)
But marriage to him would be a monstrous martyrdom of half my nature.

ST. JOHN
Jane?

JANE
I am ready to go with you to India, if I may go free as a sister to you.

ST. JOHN
That cannot be. I want a wife, the sole helpmeet I can influence efficiently in life and retain absolutely till death.

JANE
Seek one elsewhere than in me, St. John. Seek one fitted to you. Oh I will go with you as a missionary but not as a wife.

ST. JOHN
Do you think God will be satisfied with half a sacrifice? It is the cause of God I advocate, I cannot accept on his behalf, divided allegiance, it must be entire.

JANE
Oh I will give my heart to God, you do not want it.

ST. JOHN
Jane, we must be married. There is no other way and undoubtedly enough of love would follow upon marriage to render the union right, even in your eyes.

JANE
I scorn your idea of love. It is a counterfeit sentiment you offer. And yes St. John, I scorn you when you offer it.

ST. JOHN
I scarcely expected such an answer. I think I have done and uttered nothing to deserve scorn.

JANE
Oh forgive my words, but it is your own fault, you have introduced a topic on which our natures are at variance. Dear cousin, abandon your scheme of marriage.

ST. JOHN
No. It is long cherished. But I shall urge you no further at present. Reflect, and consider well.

(Later. Jane is standing by the window in her room, wiping away the tears. Someone knocks on the door)

JANE
Who is it?

DIANA
Diana.

JANE
Come in.

DIANA
Jane, you must tell me what business you and my brother have on hand. So agitated, so pale. I wished he loved you Jane, does he?

JANE
Not one whit.

DIANA
Then why does he follow you with his eyes? And get you so frequently alone with him? Both Mary and I concluded that he wished you to marry him.

JANE
Oh, he has asked me to be his wife. Or rather a fitting fellow laborer in his Indian toils.

DIANA
He wishes you to go to India?

JANE
Yes.

DIANA
But that is madness, you would not live three months in India. Oh, you have not consented?

JANE
I have refused to marry him.

DIANA
Consequently displeased him?

JANE
Deeply. And yet, I offered to accompany him as a sister.

DIANA
It was fantastic folly to do so Jane.

JANE
Oh, but he is so good, so noble. I cannot be insensitive to his virtues.

DIANA
He would urge you to impossibilities and you would force yourself to perform them. I'm astonished you even found courage to refuse his hand. You do not love him Jane?

JANE
Not as a husband. And yet if forced to be his wife, I can imagine the possibility of conceiving an inevitable, strange, torturing kind of love for him. But he would not want me to love him.

DIANA
In that case, your lot would become unspeakably wretched.

JANE
He has told me I am formed for labour, not for love. If true, it follows I am not formed for marriage. Your brother is good and great, Diana, but he forgets pitilessly the feelings and claims to those less exalted then himself.

(Later. In the parlour where St. John is reading to the family again)

ST. JOHN
He that overcometh, shall inherit all things. And I will be his guard, and he shall be my son. But the fearful, the unbelieving shall have their part in the lake which burneth with fire and brimstone. Which is the second death.

JANE (voiceover)
Henceforth I knew what fate St. John feared for me. Had not Mr. Brocklehurst, when I was ten, feared the same?

MARY
Goodnight.

ST. JOHN
Goodnight.

DIANA
Goodnight, brother.

JANE
I wish you a pleasant journey to Cambridge.

ST. JOHN
I shall return in a fortnight Jane. That space is yet left to you. May God give you the strength to choose the path of rightful duty. To do all things to the glory of God.

JANE (voiceover)
He spoke earnestly, mildly, oh I was tempted to cease struggling- to rush down the torrent of his will- into the gulf of his existence and there lose my own.

ST. JOHN
Could you decide now?

JANE
If I were but certain, were I convinced it is God's Will I should marry you, I could vow to do so here, now, come afterwards what would.

ST. JOHN
My prayers are heard. (embraces Jane) Jane, you long to do what is right. Do it. You can, you must.

JANE
Oh God, show me the path.

ROCHESTER
Jane.. Jane..

JANE
Oh I am coming!

ROCHESTER
Jaannee!

JANE
Wait for me! (runs outside) Where are you? Where? Oh I will come, I will.
(voiceover)
That voice was not superstition, but the work of nature. She was roused and did, no miracle, but her best.

ST. JOHN
Jane.

JANE
Do not question me cousin. I too have a master to serve.

(St. John looks confused, Jane walks into the house. Next scene: Jane is on the road to Thornfield)

JANE (voiceover)
Once more on road to Thornfield, I felt like a messenger pigeon returning home. I recall that voice I heard, that inward sensation I experienced. Whence had it come? It seemed in me, not in the external world. Was it a mere, nervous impression? A delusion? If it were, I should find my master either gone or still at Thornfield Hall- and who besides him? His lunatic wife?
(aloud)
Oh God, I'll have lost my labour.
(voiceover)
Return to the inn, ask information there. No, I must see the Hall. (in amazement, Jane walks into the ruins of Thornfield)
(aloud)
Oh God, a delusion.

(Now back at the inn with the innkeeper)

JANE
The late Mr. Rochester? Is he dead?

INNKEEPER
I meant the present gentleman, Mr. Edward's father ma'am.

JANE
The present! Mr. Edward Rochester is alive?

INNKEEPER
In a way of speaking, aye. There was a.

JANE
What way! What way?

INNKEEPER
Oh, you being a stranger, you'll not have heard. The Hall is quite a ruin, burned to the ground last Autumn at dead of night. I witnessed the fire myself. Mass of flames.

JANE
And was it his. How did the fire originate?

INNKEEPER
It was guessed ma'am, oh yes. There was a lady, a lunatic, kept at the Hall. They guessed it was she. But a queer thing happened about a year ago. There was a governess at the Hall and Mr. Rochester fell in love with this governess.

JANE
But the fire.

INNKEEPER
Yeah, aye, I'm coming to that. See Mr. Rochester fell in love with this governess. He set store on her above everything. Though none but him thought her handsome. Small, plain little thing, not more than twenty. And Mr. Rochester rising forty.

JANE
But the fire, was it suspected the lunatic had started it?

INNKEEPER
Oh yes ma'am. Quite certain. You see, she was Mr. Rochester's wife, who all thought him a bachelor. It all come out when he attempted to marry this governess.

JANE
Please, I must know what you mean when you say Mr. Rochester's alive "in a way of speaking". Was he hurt in the fire? Was he..

INNKEEPER
Stone blinded, ma'am.

JANE
Blinded?

INNKEEPER
Aye, and his left arm were maimed. He tried to rescue the mad woman, climbed up into the attic when all was burning. But she eluded him, went up onto the battlements. Saw her standing there against the flames, he begged her to come down, he called to her, but she gave a spring. And the next moment she lay smashed on the pavement below.

JANE
Dead?

INNKEEPER
As dead as the stones on which her brains and blood were scattered. It was frightful.

JANE
Oh God.

INNKEEPER
Say it was Mr. Rochester's courage that.

JANE
And is he now abroad?

INNKEEPER
Oh no ma'am, no. No he is at Ferndean. Manor house some thirteen miles away. Desolate spot, quite broken down they say he is. (turns to see that Jane has left)

(Mr. Rochester is coming out of Ferndean to and "looks" up to the sky. Jane rushes down steps and sees him)

JANE (voiceover)
His form was of the same strong and stalwart contour. A year's space could not quell or blight its vigorous prime. Yet he looked desperate, brooding, in his blind ferocity. Where was his daring stride now?

(John comes out and tries to take Mr. Rochester's arm.)

MR. ROCHESTER
Let me alone!

(John returns to the house. Now Jane enters the kitchen of Ferndean)

JANE
Leah?

LEAH
Miss Eyre.

JANE
How are you Leah?

LEAH
Oh is it really you Miss?

JANE
Yes. And how are you John?

JOHN
Nicely, thank you Miss.

LEAH
They searched far and wide for you Miss, after the fire. You heard about the fire at Thornfield?

JANE
Yes, the landlord of the George at Millcote informed me.

LEAH
And of Mr. Rochester's accident?

JANE
Yes. Oh John, could you go down to the turnpike house, I left my trunk there.

JOHN
Of course Miss.

JANE
Could you arrange for me to stay the night, Leah? I've traveled far.

LEAH
I think so Miss. (a bell rings) Oh, excuse me.

JANE
When you go in, tell Mr. Rochester that a person wishes to speak to him, but do not give my name.

LEAH
I don't think he'll see you Miss. He refuses anybody.

JOHN
It was his kindness blinded him.

JANE
So I believe.
(voiceover)
And kindness, my kindness, would give him eyes again.

LEAH
You're to send in your name and your business Miss.

JANE
Oh, is that what he rang for Leah?

LEAH
Yes Miss, he always has candles although he is blind.

JANE
Give me the tray.

(Mr. Rochester is standing by the fireplace with Pilot lying on the floor when Jane enters)

JANE
Shh, Pilot, lie down.

ROCHESTER
What is it? Leah? Is it you?

JANE
Leah's in the kitchen.

ROCHESTER
Who is it? What is it? Who speaks?

JANE
Pilot knows me, and John and Leah. I only came this evening.

ROCHESTER
Great God, what delusion has come over me? What sweet madness?

JANE
Neither, sir.

ROCHESTER
Where is the speaker? Or is it only a voice? Oh God, I cannot see, but I must see or my heart will stop and my brain burst. Whoever, whatever you are, be perceptible to touch or I cannot live.

JANE
(takes a hold of his extended arm) There sir.

ROCHESTER
Her very fingers. Must be more of her. Is it Jane? This is her shape and size.

JANE
And this is her voice, she is all here. Her heart too.

ROCHESTER
Jane Eyre? Jane. Eyre.

JANE
Yes, I've come back to you. I have found you out.

ROCHESTER
In truth? In the flesh, my living Jane?

JANE
Oh you touch me, you hold me sir, I'm not cold like a corpse nor vacant like air am I?

ROCHESTER
My living darling. No, I cannot be so blest. It's a dream, such as I've had when I've kissed her as thus. (kisses her forehead) I always awoke and found her gone. Gentle, soft dream, you will fly too. But kiss me before you go Jane.

JANE
(kisses him) There sir.

ROCHESTER
It is you! You're not dead in some ditch, under some stream, nor a pining outcast amongst strangers?

JANE
No sir, I'm an independent woman now.

ROCHESTER
What do you mean?

JANE
My uncle in Madeira left me five thousand pounds.

ROCHESTER
Ah, this is practical, this is real. I should never dream that. Besides there's that peculiar voice of hers- so animating and piquant. It cheers my withered heart. And you're independent woman? A rich woman?

JANE
I am my own mistress. I could choose to stay with you if I wish.

ROCHESTER
Do you?

JANE
Oh sir.

ROCHESTER
Blind lameter like me.

JANE
If you do not object. Oh I will be your neighbor, your nurse, your housekeeper, your.
(voiceover)
Had I too rashly overleaped conventionalities? I'd made the proposal from the idea that he wished and would ask me to be his wife. Perhaps I had played the fool unwittingly.

ROCHESTER
No, don't leave me. I've touched you and heard you, I cannot give up these joys.

JANE
I will stay, I have said so.

ROCHESTER
To be my nurse? You're young, you must marry someday.

JANE
I do not care about being married.

ROCHESTER
You should care Janet! If I were as I once was, I would try and make you care. But a sightless block.

JANE (voiceover)
I took fresh courage, seeing now where the difficulty lay.
(aloud)
It is time that someone undertook to rehumanise you. You look like Nebuchadnezzar in the fields. Your hair remind me of eagle's feathers. Whether you nails have grown like bird's claws I've not yet noticed.

ROCHESTER
On this arm I've neither hand nor nails. A mere stump.

JANE
Tis a pity to see it. A pity to see your eyes, the scar on your forehead. (kisses his forehead) The worst of it is, one is in danger of making too much of you and loving you too well for all that. I must leave you and make a fire, light the candles. Can you tell when there's a good fire?

ROCHESTER
Yes, I see a glow, a red haze.

JANE
And the candles?

ROCHESTER
Very dimly, each a luminous cloud.

JANE
Can you see me?

ROCHESTER
No, my elf, I'm only thankful to hear you and touch you.

JANE
When do you take supper?

ROCHESTER
I never take supper.

JANE
Oh you shall tonight, I'm hungry. So are you, I daresay, only you forget.
(Jane rings the bell. Next scene- Jane and Rochester are at table and Jane is pouring him some wine)

ROCHESTER
Who the deuce have you been with Jane?

JANE
With good people sir, far better than you.

ROCHESTER
Hmm. They've not diminished your impudence. Who were they?

JANE
Oh you shall not get it out of me tonight. You must wait till tomorrow. To leave my tale half told will be a sort of security that I shall appear at your breakfast table to finish it. And I shall bring you, not a glass of water, but an egg at least, to say nothing of fried ham.

ROCHESTER
You changeling. Fairy-born and human bred. (kisses her hand)

JANE
Now, I shall leave you. I've been traveling and I'm tired.

ROCHESTER
Jane, one word more. Were there only ladies in the house where you've been?

JANE
Goodnight sir.

(The next day. Jane and Rochester are just getting back from a walk)

ROCHESTER
This parson Rivers is your cousin?

JANE
Yes.

ROCHESTER
Do you like him?

JANE
He's a very good man.

ROCHESTER
A good man? Hmmm. By that do you mean a respectable, well-conducted man of fifty, sixty?

JANE
St. John's but twenty-nine, sir.

ROCHESTER
But his brain- rather soft, you shrug your shoulders to hear him talk.

JANE
He talks little. And ever to the point. He is thoroughly educated.

ROCHESTER
But priggish, parsonical, sort of raw curate, half-strangled by his white neckcloth.

JANE
He dresses well, he is a handsome man, tall with fair hair, blue eyes, and a Grecian profile.

ROCHESTER
Damn him. Perhaps you'd rather not sit so close to me Miss Eyre?

JANE
Why not Mr. Rochester?

ROCHESTER
The picture you have just drawn is suggestive of a rather too overwhelming contrast. Your words have delineated, very prettily, a graceful Apollo. Your eyes dwell on a Vulcan. A real blacksmith, blind and maimed into the bargain.

JANE
I had not thought of it before, but you rather are like Vulcan sir.

ROCHESTER
Hmm. After you returned to reside with your newly discovered cousins, did Rivers spend much time there?

JANE
Oh yes! The back parlour was both his study and ours.

ROCHESTER
And what did you study?

JANE
German, and a little Hindostanee.

ROCHESTER
Hindostanee? What use could that language be to you?

JANE
He wished me to go with him to India sir.

ROCHESTER
Ah, the root of the matter. He wanted you to marry him.

JANE
He asked me to marry him.

ROCHESTER
Then you must go to the husband you've chosen. This St. John Rivers.

JANE
Oh but he is not my husband, nor ever will be. Oh he's good and great but severe as an iceberg. Must I leave you sir, to go to him? I only wanted to tease you a little to make you less sad.

ROCHESTER
But my scarred vision, my crippled strength.

JANE
They are honourable scars sir. You sacrifice is legendary, none but speaks well of you.

ROCHESTER
Possibly. But the result is I am no better than the old lightning struck chestnut tree at Thornfield. What right would that ruin have to bid a budding woodbine cover its decay with freshness.

JANE
You are no ruin sir. Oh Thornfield may be, I have seen it. But you are not, friends will ever lean towards you.

ROCHESTER
But I want. a wife, Jane.

JANE
Do you sir?

ROCHESTER
Yes, is it news to you?

JANE
Well of course, you've said nothing of it before.

ROCHESTER
Is it unwelcome news?

JANE
That depends on your choice sir.

ROCHESTER
Which you shall make for me, I will abide by your decision.

JANE
Choose then sir, her who loves you best.

ROCHESTER
No, I will choose her I love best. Jane, will you marry me?

JANE
Yes, sir.

ROCHESTER
A cripple, twenty years older than yourself, whom you'll have to lead about by the hand?

JANE
Oh yes, sir.

ROCHESTER
Truly Jane?

JANE
Most truly.

ROCHESTER
Oh my darling. God bless you and reward you.

JANE
To be your wife is for me, to be as happy as I can be on earth.

ROCHESTER
Because you delight in sacrifice?

JANE
And what do I sacrifice? Famine for food? Expectation for content?

ROCHESTER
Jane suits me. Do I suit her?

JANE
To the finest fibre of my nature sir. (Jane kisses Mr. Rochester)

JANE (voiceover)
I married him. I hold myself supremely blest because I am my husband's life as fully as he is mine. Mr. Rochester continued blind the first two years of our union, but gradually the obscurity clouding his left eye cleared. The sky is no longer a blank to him, the earth no longer a void. God has tempered judgment with mercy.