Jane Eyre (1983): Season 1, Episode 11 - Reunion - full transcript

You're going on a journey?

So suddenly, Jane?

Without warning?

Oh, forgive me, my dears.

I'm called away suddenly.

I shall be away about 4 days,
perhaps more.

But you're coming back to us.

Why, you're taking
almost nothing.

-You're going alone?
-Yes.

It is to see or hear news
of a friend

about whom I've been
uneasy for some time.



Oh, Jane, you look very pale.

Are you sure you feel
well enough to travel?

Nothing ails me
but anxiety of mind,

which I hope
my journey will dispel.

Oh, Diana, I cannot tell you
any more of the matter, not now.

I'm sorry.
Forgive me.

This is your home, Jane.

You're free to come
and go as you please.

To go and come back, you mean.

Oh, Jane, come back to us soon.

Please.

My master might be
abroad for all I knew.

And if he were at Thornfield Hall
with his poor lunatic wife,

I dared not seek his
presence or speak to him.



I decided to ask at the inn.

They would be able to tell me
all I sought to know.

Good day to you, ma'am.

I see you get down
from the coach.

-Do you wish for a room?
-Yes. No.

How far is Thornfield Hall
from here?

Oh, just 2 miles
across the fields yonder.

I'm going there soon in the chaise,
if you'd like me to take you.

Thank you.
I must go immediately.

Please, could you
look after my box?

-Yes, ma'am.
-Thank you.

Is anybody there?

Ma'am?

Is that the lady from the coach?

I am here.
What has happened?

What are you doing here?

You was in such
a rare state, ma'am.

I was worried about you.

I was coming this way,

so I thought I'd take a
look at the poor old hall.

I thought you might like me
to take you back to the inn.

Aye, it is sad, ma'am, isn't it?

I used to live here
once, as butler.

Not in my time.
You're a stranger to me.

And you to me, Miss.

No, it was in the late
Mr. Rochester's time.

The late?
Is he dead?

I mean the present
Mr. Rochester's father.

You must have been away
from these parts, ma'am,

or you would have heard
what happened last autumn.

Oh, it was a dreadful
calamity, ma'am.

Everything gone.
Everything burned.

Before the engines could
arrive from Millcote,

the whole building was
one mass of flames.

I witnessed it myself.

Is it known how it started?

Oh, they guessed,
ma'am, they guessed.

And the servants had
a tale to tell.

You are perhaps not aware,
ma'am, that there was a lady,

a lunatic, kept in the house.

I have heard something of it.

Well, a very queer thing
happened a year since.

A very queer thing.

This lady, ma'am, turned out
to be Mr. Rochester's wife,

and there was a young lady,
a governess at the hall,

that Mr. Edward fell in love with.

Never mind that. Please,
tell me about the fire.

Very well, ma'am.

Well, it seems that upstairs
in the lunatic's room,

while her keeper was asleep...

Sir! Sir!

I hate you!

And the next minute she
lay smashed on the pavement.

As dead as the stones on
which her brains and blood lay.

It was frightful.

Oh, good god.

Were any other lives lost?

No, ma'am, but perhaps it would
have been better if there had.

What do you mean?

Well, poor Mr. Edward.

Some said it was a judgement for
trying to marry that poor girl.

You said he was alive.

Aye, if you can call it alive.
He's stone blind.

Blind?

Well, after Mrs. Rochester
died, he was coming down,

but there was a crash, and
he was taken out of the ruins.

He was only just alive.

Mr. Carter had to amputate
one hand, and one eye was lost,

and the other so badly inflamed
that Mr. Rochester cannot see.

He's a blind cripple.

Where is he now?

With old John and his wife, at Ferndean,
a house he has, some 30 miles off.

He's very broken down, they say.

-You came in your chaise?
-Yes, ma'am.

Please take me to Ferndean.
I will pay you well.

-At once, please, at once.
-Yes, ma'am.

But he won't let folk
help him. Ever.

Maria, how are you?

And john, how are you?

Well? Not a word of welcome
from either of you?

I'm not a ghost, you know.

Miss Eyre.

Is it really you, Miss,

come to this lonely
place at this late hour?

It is secluded, isn't it?

He wishes to live away
from the world, Miss.

It took me hours in a chaise.

I have come from Thornfield.

I know what happened there.

Aye. Terrible it was.

I've sent the chaise away.

I'm sure you can find
me a room for the night.

There's none but that
dusty old room upstairs.

You can get up there with a
broom, John, and light a fire.

And I can make sure
that Miss Eyre

has dry sheets and
a warm bed for the night.

That's master.

When you go in to your master,

tell him there is someone
who wishes to see him,

but do not give him my name.

I don't think he'll see you, Miss.

He refuses everybody.

John, I left my box under
the tree by the gate.

Could you fetch it
for me, please?

It begins to grow dark,
and take it to my room.

Aye. You haven't forgotten who does
the fetching and carrying, I see, Miss.

Thank you, John.

You're to send in
your name and business.

Is this what he rang for?

Aye. He always has candles brought
in at dark, though he's blind.

I will take it in to him.

Oh, lord, what will he say to me?

It's the room at the end
of the corridor, Miss.

Give me the water, Maria.

What's the matter?

Down, Pilot.

This is you, Maria, is it not?

Maria's in the kitchen.

Who is this?

Who is this? Who speaks?

Will you take
some more water, sir?

I spilt half of what
was in the glass.

Who is it?

What is it?

Pilot knows me.

John and Maria know I'm here.
I arrived only this evening.

Great god.

What delusion has
come over me?

What sweet madness
has seized me?

No delusion, no madness.

Let me touch you.

Her very fingers.

Her small, slight fingers.

Is it you, Jane?
What is it?

-This is her shape.
-And this her voice.

She is all here.
Her heart, too.

Jane Eyre.

Jane Eyre.

I'm come back to you.

Such dreams I've had at night
when I've clasped her to my heart,

as I do now, and kissed her.

And felt that she loved me.

And trusted she would
never leave me.

Which I never will do
from this day.

Never?

But I always woke and
found it an empty mockery.

My gentle, sweet dream.

You will fly, too.

Does this feel like a mockery?

Do you call this a dream?

It is you, is it, Jane?

You are come back
to me, then?

I am.

You don't lie dead in some ditch.

You're not a despised
outcast among strangers?

I'm an independent
woman now.

An uncle in Madeira died
and left me £5,000.

What, Janet?

You're an independent woman?

A rich woman?

A free woman?

Quite rich.

Enough to build a
house close by

where you can come
and sit in my parlour

when you need company
of an evening.

Ah, you're rich, Jane.

You have now no doubt friends
who will not suffer you

to devote yourself
to a lame, blind wreck.

I am my own mistress, sir.

And you will stay?

Certainly.

I will be your neighbour,

your nurse, your housekeeper.

I find you lonely.
I will be your companion.

I will read to you,
walk with you,

sit with you, wait on you,

be eyes and hand to you.

You will not be left
desolate by me.

This is pity, not love.

No.

-Leave me.
-No.

Leave me!

I beg you.

He was ever that way.

I remember the time
Mrs. Fairfax...

Maria.

Yes, sir?

Our visitor cannot have
left. Where is she?

Oh, she...

she's somewhere
in the house, sir.

Well, find her. Bring her to me.

Yes, sir.

I'm here, sir.
Still here.

Jane...

you must not go.

I've touched you,
felt you, heard you.

I cannot give up these joys.

The world may think me
selfish, but no matter.

Very well, sir. It is settled.

Yes. But you understand
one thing by staying,

and I understand another.

What do you see
as my understanding, sir?

You mean to wait on me
like a kind little nurse.

You were ever kind.

I suppose I must now entertain
fatherly feelings for you.

Don't you think so?

Come. Tell me.

I shall think, sir, what you like.

But you cannot always
be my nurse, Janet.

You're young.

You must marry some day.

I don't care about
being married.

You should care!

If I were what I once was,

I would try to make you care.

It is time someone undertook
to rehumanise you, sir.

Have you a pocket comb
about you?

What for?

Come, give it to me.

There, it is better.

Your shaggy black mane
is very alarming.

And this?

It is a pity to see it.

And a pity to see your eyes

and the scar on your forehead.

-Do you take supper, sir?
-I don't want any supper.

I never take supper.

Well, you shall have some tonight.
You're hungry, I'm sure.

There. That's better.

Can you tell when
there's a good fire?

With the right eye.
I can see a glow.

Can you see the candles?

Very dimly.

Each is a luminous blur.

Can you see me?

No, my fairy.

But I can hear you
and touch you.

Jane, I thought you'd
be revolted by me.

Did you?

Am I hideous, Jane?

Yes, sir. You always
were, you know.

Well,

the wickedness hasn't
been taken out of you,

wherever you've sojourned.

I have been with far
better people than you, sir

quite more refined and exalted.

Well, who the deuce
have you been with?

You will not get it
out of me tonight.

You are far too tired.
I will tell you tomorrow.

You wicked changeling.

Fairy-born, yet human-bred.

Now I'm going to leave you.

I've been travelling these last
3 days, and I, too, am tired.

Good night, sir.

Jane,

were there only ladies
where you've been?

Good night, sir.

This St. John Rivers, then,
he's your cousin?

Yes, sir.

Did you like him,
Jane?

St. John is
a very good man.

I could not help, but like him.

Is he an able man?

Truly able, sir.

A thoroughly educated man?

St. John is an accomplished
and profound scholar, sir.

His manners, I think you said,
they were not to your taste.

Priggish and parsonic.

I never mentioned
his manners,

but they are polished,
calm, and gentleman-like.

His appearance,

I forget how you described
his appearance.

A raw curate,

half-strangled in a
white neckcloth, huh?

St. John dresses well.

He is a very handsome man.

Tall, blond, blue eyed.
And with a Grecian profile.

Damn him.

Did you like him,
Jane?

Oh, yes, I liked him, sir.

But you've asked me that before.

Perhaps you would rather not sit
beside me any longer, Miss Eyre.

Why not, Mr. Rochester?

The contrast between a tall,
graceful, fair-haired Apollo

and a Vulcan, black,
broad-shouldered and...

and blind into the bargain.

I never thought of it before,

but you are rather Vulcan-like.

This man, Rivers,
he wanted to marry you?

You need not be jealous.
I only wanted to provoke you.

I thought anger would
be better than grief.

I'm not foolish, Jane.

You formed a new tie.

With whom?

This man, Rivers.

St. John Rivers.

He's young, he's handsome,
he wants to marry you.

He will.

He does not love me.

I do not love him.

You of all people should
know what that means.

Jane,

4 days ago, last Monday,
a singular mood came over me.

One in which grief replaced frenzy.

I was sitting in my room
by the open window

and there broke involuntarily
from my lips the words

"Jane..."

"Jane, Jane, Jane."

-You spoke the words aloud?
-I did.

You'll think me mad.

For a voice, I cannot
tell whence it came,

but I know whose it was replied.

It said

"I'm coming. Wait for me."

A few moments after
there came upon the wind

the words "where are you?"

Jane, I don't want
a nurse or a friend.

I want a wife.

Do you, sir?

Yes.

Is it news to you?

No.

Is it unwelcome news?

That depends on
circumstances, sir.

On your choice.

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

I leave the choice to you.

Choose then, sir,
her who loves you best.

I will at least choose
her I love best.

Jane,

will you marry me?

Yes, sir.

A blind man, whom you'll have
to lead about by the hand?

Yes, sir.

A crippled man, nearly
20 years older than you,

who you'll have to wait on?

Yes, sir.

Truly, Jane?

Most truly, sir.

I have now
been married 10 years.

Within 2 years, Edward
recovered the sight of one eye,

just before our first child was born.

I now know what it is
to live for and with

what I love best on earth.

I am my husband's life
as fully as he is mine.

We are bone of each other's bone
and flesh of each other's flesh.