Original subtitles

Good day, Miss Elliott.

Mr. Rivers.

I've come to see how you spend your free afternoon.

Is the portrait like?

Like? Like whom? I did not observe it closely.

Oh, but you did, Mr. Rivers.

It is a well-executed picture.

Of?

Of Miss Oliver, I presume.

And would you like me to paint you a copy?

That I should like it is certain.

Whether it would be wise is another question.

As far as I can see, it would be wiser

if you were to take to yourself the original at once.

She likes you, I'm sure.

You ought to marry her.

It is strange.

Though I love Rosamund

with all the intensity of a first passion,

I experience at the same time a calm, unwarped sense

that she is not the partner suited to me.

Strange, indeed.

Rosamund a sufferer, a labourer,

a female apostle.

A missionary's wife? No.

But you might not be a missionary.

You might relinquish the scheme.

Relinquish my vocation?

My foundation on earth for a mansion in heaven?

Never. It is dearer than the blood in my veins.

And Miss Oliver?

Are her disappointment and sorrow of no interest to you?

She is surrounded by suitors.

She will forget me in a month

and marry someone far more suited to make her happy.

You speak coolly, but you suffer in the conflict.

You are certainly not timid!

I scorn the suffering.

It is a mere fever of the flesh.

Reason, and not feeling, is my guide.

I honour endurance,

industry, talent.

Your own progress I watch with interest

because I consider you a diligent, orderly, energetic woman.

It is not because I sympathise with what you have gone through

or what you still suffer.

I am, in my original state, a cold, hard, ambitious man.

It is true.

My religion has turned the original materials to the best account,

but she could not eradicate nature.

She is beautiful.

She is well named the rose of the world.

And may I not paint a copy for you?

Cui bono? No.

Good day, Miss Elliott.

Good day, Mr. Rivers.

Hannah, Hannah, they're here, they're here!

Jane, dear! Merry Christmas!

Welcome.

Greetings.

Oh, is it not wonderful

to be all together in our own home for Christmas?

The place shines like a new pin.

The young lady came back with me a week since when school closed,

and I must say she's worked as hard as me.

Oh, bless, you Jane.

I hope this means you regard it as your own home.

I, too. One's family is one's most precious earthly possession.

Jane, I must speak with you.

Jane, come and sit by me.

You may remember a letter I had recently

concerning my uncle john's will.

Yes.

It was from his London solicitor, a Mr. Briggs.

I know Mr. Briggs.

and you know my name.

I plead guilty. Forgive me.

Briggs wrote again later. Your name was mentioned.

Why?

I will tell you in a moment.

But in consequence I have learnt what befell you

from the day you went as the governess to the ward

of a certain Mr. Rochester.

I can guess your feelings, but restrain them for a while.

I know he offered you a bigamous marriage...

that you fled, and that you are absolutely innocent of blame.

How and where is he? What is he doing? Is he well?

I am ignorant of all concerning Mr. Rochester.

He caused the country to be scoured for you,

and when all searches and enquiries proved fruitless,

he disappeared.

It is generally believed that he has gone abroad.

Oh. What will become of him?

Surely you are the last to care.

Briggs wrote to Thornfield Hall.

He was paid and has heard nothing since,

except from a Mrs. Fairfax, giving no information.

Of Mr. Rochester's...

you don't know him. Don't pronounce an opinion on him.

Very well. Your uncle having died,

Mr. Briggs could not trace the heiress.

Where is Mr. Briggs now?

He may perhaps know more of Mr. Rochester than you do.

Briggs is in London. I should doubt

his knowing anything at all about Mr. Rochester.

It is not in Mr. Rochester that he is interested.

You forget essential points in pursuing trifles.

You do not enquire why Briggs has sought after you,

what his interest was in you.

Well, what did he want?

Merely to inform you that your uncle,

Mr. Eyre of Madeira has died,

that he has left you all his property

and that you are rich. An heiress.

I, an heiress?

Your uncle left you £20,000.

I shall leave you for a while.

No, wait.

Mr. Rivers,

when first Mr. Briggs wrote to you,

you were disinherited in favour of another relative.

You shall have to know it some time.

You may as well know now as later.

Your name is Jane Eyre.

You may well not know that I was christened St. John Eyre Rivers.

My mother's name was Eyre.

One brother was uncle John who died in Madeira and left this money.

The other brother was a poor clergyman who died,

as his wife did, many years ago.

I know your whole story.

Then your mother is my father's sister.

Undeniably.

-We are cousins! -Yes. We are cousins.

Oh, I'm glad. I am glad!

You are an odd girl.

You remained quite serious when I told you you had got a fortune.

And now, for a matter of no moment, you are excited.

It may be of no moment to you. You have sisters.

I had nobody. And now I have 3 relatives.

Oh, I am glad.

Now you have given me too much to take in.

I must be alone, think.

Please stay. I'll go to my room.

Oh, we'll have so much to talk about.

My dear, if I comprehend you, this is impossible.

What is there to comprehend? There is £20,000.

We are 4 cousins. We have each an equal right.

Divide it equally, we each have £5,000.

It is as much as any of us needs, and it is perfectly possible.

It is too noble a sacrifice, Jane.

Noble? Mary, dear, it is selfish.

I am resolved to have a home and family.

I like moor house. I will live at moor house.

I like Mary and Diana

and I will attach myself for life to Mary and Diana.

But, Jane...

to have £5,000 would please me.

To have £20,000 would torment and oppress me.

It is contrary to all custom. The entire fortune is your right.

My uncle was free to leave the money

to whom he would. He left it to you.

Were you to argue, object and annoy me for a year,

I could not forego this delicious pleasure.

Jane,

you cannot imagine

what an important lady you will be with £20,000.

Society will be open to you.

My society is here. I never had a home.

I will have a home.

I never had brothers and sisters, and I must and will have them now.

We cannot take advantage.

Say again you'll be my brother.

-I will be your brother, but... -No buts.

I will stay at the school till we find a new teacher

and then I will return here, to my family.

Say what you will, my purpose is fixed.

I shall write to the lawyers tonight

and will you, nill you, it is done.

How quickly the winter went by.

And how wonderful to be spending the summer together.

St. John,

are your plans unchanged?

Unchanged and unchangeable.

And Rosamund Oliver?

Is about to be married. To a rich and well-descended young man.

A Mr. Granby.

Oh, dear.

You see, Jane,

the battle is fought and the victory is won.

My way is now clear.

I thank God for it.

You get on well with your German.

Diana teaches well.

Jane, I should like you to take a walk with me.

I'll fetch Diana and Mary.

No, I wish for only one companion this morning,

and that must be you.

We shall rest here a while, Jane.

I go to India in six weeks, Jane.

I have taken my berth on an East Indiaman.

God will protect you.

You have undertaken his work.

Yes. I am the servant of an infallible master,

and it seems strange to me

that all around me do not burn to enlist under the same banner.

All have not your powers.

It would be folly for the feeble to march with the strong.

I am thinking only of those who are worthy of the work

and are competent to do it.

They must be few in number.

Truly. But when found,

it is right to offer them, direct from God,

a place in the ranks of his chosen.

If they're really meant for the task,

will not their own hearts tell them so?

What does your heart say?

My heart?

My heart is mute.

Then I must speak for it.

Jane, come with me to India.

Come as my helpmeet and fellow-labourer.

Oh, St. John, have some mercy.

God and nature meant you for a missionary's wife.

You are formed for labour, not for love.

I claim you. Not for my pleasure, but for my sovereign's service.

I do not understand a missionary's life.

There I can give you all the aid you need.

I'm not fit for the task.

I have no vocation.

Nothing speaks or stirs within me when you talk.

Jane, you are docile, disinterested, faithful, and courageous.

Very gentle and very heroic.

Cease to mistrust yourself.

I can trust you unreservedly.

You must give me some time to think.

Very willingly.

In leaving England,

I should leave a loved but empty land.

Mr. Rochester was no longer there,

and even if he were, what could that ever be to me?

Consent to St. John's demand was possible

but for one item, one dreadful item.

He'd asked me to be his wife.

When he had no more of a husband's heart for me

than that frowning giant of a rock, down which the stream was flowing.

I am ready to go with you to India

if I can go free.

Your answer is not clear.

I am willing to go as your fellow missionary,

but I cannot marry you.

How can I, a man not yet 30, take with me a girl of 19

unless she be married to me?

I want a wife,

a sole helpmeet I can influence in life

and claim obedience from and retain absolutely until death.

I will give the missionary my work, but not myself.

Do you think God would be satisfied with half an offering?

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

We must be married.

Enough of love would follow upon marriage.

I scorn your idea of love.

I scorn the counterfeit sentiment.

Yes, St. John, and I scorn you when you offer it.

Forgive me. You stung me to speak unguardedly.

I shall urge you no further at present.

Tomorrow I leave for Cambridge to say good-bye to old friends.

I shall be absent a fortnight.

Take that time to consider my offer.

If you reject it, it is not me you deny,

but God.

Dear brother, we've almost quarrelled. Can't we just shake hands?

You do forgive me?

I have nothing to forgive, not having been offended.

Good morning. I have called to see Miss Jane Eyre.

She's expecting you, sir. Come in.

Thank you.

Thank you, Miss Eyre.

I am sorry to have troubled you,

but if I'm to sell off the remainder of the estate,

I must have your authority.

Thank you for coming so far, Mr. Briggs.

And Mr. Rochester, is he well?

I have no information whatever about him.

I have written twice to Mrs. Fairfax and have had no reply to my letters.

I believe she has left Thornfield.

Miss Eyre, you know I made

an extensive search for you on Mr. Rochester's behalf?

Yes.

It is an irony that I only found you after he had vanished to

heaven knows where.

He may return to Thornfield at any time.

Would you wish me to write and tell him that I have found you?

No, Mr. Briggs. That must not be.

I ask because you say you yourself wrote.

Only to Mrs. Fairfax and in vain. It was but for news of him.

He's so wild and such a danger to himself.

If he knew where I was.

No, please, Mr. Briggs. No.

-Miss Eyre… -I am well.

I shall obey your instructions.

Good-bye, Miss Eyre.

-Good day to you, sir. -Good day to you.

St. John,

I am unhappy because you are still angry with me.

Let us be friends.

I hope that we are friends.

Not as we were.

Are we not?

For my part, we are.

I wish you no ill and all good.

Must we part in this way?

When you go to India, will you leave me so?

Without a kinder word than you have yet spoken?

And when I go to India, Jane, will I leave you?

Do you not go to India?

You said I might not go unless I married you.

And you will not marry me?

You adhere to that resolution?

No, St. John, I will not marry you.

I adhere to my resolution.

Once again this refusal. Why?

You do not love me.

You said I was formed for labour, not for love.

Then I am not formed for marriage.

If I were to marry you, you would kill me.

You're killing me now!

I am killing you?

You should not use those words.

They are vile and unfeminine and untrue.

But it is the duty of man to forgive,

even unto seven-and-seventy times.

Now indeed you hate me.

You misinterpret me.

I have no wish to grieve or pain you.

Indeed, I have not.

I know where your heart turns.

It turns towards Mr. Rochester.

That is lawless.

Do you intend to seek him?

I wish only to know what is become of him.

So be it.

It remains, then, for me to remember you in my prayers.

Hannah.

This evening I shall read to you from Revelations,

chapters 20 and 21.

"And I saw the dead, small and great, stand before God

"and the books were opened.

"And another book was opened,

"which is the book of life:

"And the dead were judged out of those things which were written in the books,

"according to their works.

"And the sea gave up the dead which were in it

"And death and hell delivered up the dead which were in them,

and they were judged, every man according to their works.

"And death and hell were cast into the lake of fire.

"This is the second death.

"And whosoever was not found written in the book of life

"was cast into the lake of fire.

"And I saw a new heaven and a new earth;

"for the first heaven and the first earth were passed away

"and there was no more sea.

"And I, John, saw the holy city, new Jerusalem,

"coming down from God out of heaven

prepared as a bride adorned for her husband."

You read that so movingly.

Could you not think again? Could you not decide now?

I could decide

if I were sure it were God's will that I should marry you.

I could vow to marry you here and now, come after what may.

My prayers are answered.

Jane.

Jane.

Jane!

Oh, god, what is it?!

Jane.

Oh, I'm coming! Wait for me!

I'm coming!

My love, wait for me. I'm coming!

Where are you!

Jane, what has come upon you? You are possessed.

Leave me alone. Leave me!

You said I saved your life.

Will you not even speak with me?

Jane, I must...

Jane, I must...

where are you going?

Where I must.

You left me too suddenly.

Had you stayed but a little longer, you were about to lay your hand

on the christian's cross and the christian's crown.

I am sorry.

Your spirit is willing but your flesh is weak.

The devil has been at work here.

No devil, St. John. That is superstition.

It was nature, she was roused, and did no miracle, but her best.

You are still upset. You speak in riddles.

I shall not argue with you now.

But know that my spirit is willing to do what is right,

and my flesh, I hope, is strong enough, too.

I must accomplish the will of heaven,

to search and dispel this cloud of doubt that has confused you.

I'm in no doubt, St. John.

But there is something I have to find out.

Something I must do.

It is in God's hands.