Jane Eyre Page #2

my dear?

- Are you Mrs. Fairfax?

- Indeed I am.

What a tedious journey

you must have had.

Your hands must

be frozen. Here.

Goodness.

How young you are.

I'm quite experienced,

I can assure you.

Of course you are. I'm sure

we're very lucky to have you.

Leah, would you ask Martha

to bring a little hot port

and cut a sandwich or two?

Draw nearer the fire.

John is taking your trunk

up to your room.

I've put you at the back of the

house, I hope you don't mind.

The rooms at the front

have much finer furniture,

but they're so gloomy

and solitary, I think.

I'm glad you're come.

To be sure, this is

a grand old house,

but I must confess that in winter one

can feel a little dreary and alone.

Leah's a very nice girl, and John

and Martha are good people, too,

but they are servants.

One cannot talk to them

on terms of equality.

Am I meeting

Miss Fairfax tonight?

Who?

Miss Fairfax,

my pupil?

Oh, you mean Miss Varens,

Mr. Rochester's ward.

She's to be your pupil.

Who's Mr. Rochester?

Why, the owner of Thornfield.

Mr. Edward Fairfax Rochester.

I thought Thornfield Hall

belonged to you.

Bless you, child,

what an idea. Me?

I'm only the housekeeper.

Forgive me.

There is a distant connection

between Mr. Rochester and me,

his mother was a Fairfax,

but I'd never presume on it.

Heavens. Me,

owner of Thornfield?

We shall have a cheerful

house this winter.

With Miss Varens

here and with you,

we'll have quite

a merry time of it.

I'm sure that last winter, and what a severe

one it was, if it didn't rain it snowed,

if it didn't snow it blew.

I declare, not one soul came to

the house from November to February.

When spring finally came, I thought it

a great relief I hadn't gone distracted.

I've had Martha lay a fire.

I hope you'll be comfortable.

Now, get that lot turned

over before frost comes down.

Do you want the

upper bit doing as well?

Yes.

We must open

the window in the study today

to let in some air.

I've never seen such

an ancient old house.

How beautifully

you've preserved it.

Well, Mr. Rochester's visits

are always unexpected.

He doesn't like to arrive and

find everything all swathed up,

so I keep it in

constant readiness.

Now, come and

meet Miss Varens.

Did I mention

she's French?

Will you ask her

about her parents?

Mr. Rochester neglected to

tell me anything about her.

Her mother

has passed away.

Adle is going to show us

her accomplishments.

Oh!

How very French.

Very good.

Very good.

Now, we're going to make

a press. Shut the book up.

Butterfly.

And what was it

before it was a butterfly?

Caterpillar.

"I shall leave

and walk into town."

"Do not go,"

begged her maid.

"The Gytrash roams

these hills."

A spirit of the North that

lies in wait for travelers.

It tenants the

carcasses of beasts,

possesses horses,

wolves, great dogs.

You know it

only by its eyes,

which burn as

red as coals,

and if one should

chance upon you...

Nothing. A mere story.

What nonsense.

Whatever

brings you up here?

I've been waiting

to pour our tea.

I'm not in need of tea,

thank you.

It's a quiet life,

isn't it?

This isolated house, a

still doom for a young woman.

I wish a woman could have

action in her life, like a man.

It agitates me to pain that the

skyline over there is ever our limit.

I long sometimes for a power of

vision that would overpass it.

If I could behold

all I imagine...

I've never seen a city,

I've never

spoken with men.

And I fear my

whole life will pass...

Now, exercise

and fresh air,

great cures for

anything, they say.

I have some letters to post.

Will you take them?

Up! Up, you

cursed beast! Up!

- Stand back.

- Are you injured, sir?

May I be of some help?

Where did you

come from?

Just below, at Thornfield

Hall. I am the governess.

I'm on my way

to post a letter.

Can I fetch

someone to help?

The governess.

You may help me yourself.

Get hold of his bridle

and lead him to me.

If you would be so kind.

It would be easier to bring

me to the horse. Come here.

I must beg of you to please

come here, Miss Governess.

Hold it.

Make haste

with your letter.

For who knows what might

lurk in these dark woods.

Leah, go and light

the fire in the master's bedroom.

And tell Martha

to prepare for tea.

Yes, ma'am.

Mr. Rochester's here.

Go and change your frock.

He wishes to meet you.

- Leah, take her cloak.

- I have to change?

I always dress for the evening

when Mr. Rochester's here.

But all my dresses

are the same.

You must have

one that's better.

He's in a terrible humor.

His horse fell in Hay Lane,

and his ankle is sprained.

He's at the doctor this half

hour. Where have you been?

Let her sit.

I've examined Adle and I find

you've taken great pains with her.

She's not bright,

she has no talents,

yet in a short time

she's improved.

Thank you, Mr. Rochester.

You've been resident

here three months?

Yes, sir.

And from whence

do you hail?

What's your tale of woe?

Pardon?

All governesses have a

tale of woe. What's yours?

I was brought up by my aunt,

Mrs. Reed of Gateshead,

in a house even

finer than this.

I then attended Lowood

School, where I received

as good an education

as I could hope for.

I have no tale

of woe, sir.

Where are your parents?

Dead.

- Do you remember them?

- No.

And why are you not with

Mrs. Reed of Gateshead now?

She cast me off, sir.

Why?

Because I was burdensome

and she disliked me.

No tale of woe?

I daily thank

providence for sending us Miss Eyre.

She's an invaluable...

Don't trouble yourself to give her

a character. I'll judge for myself.

I have her to thank

for this sprain.

Sir?

You bewitched my horse.

I did not.

Were you waiting for

your people on that lane?

I have no people, sir.

I mean for the imps and

elves and little green men.

The sad truth is,

they are all gone.

Your land is neither wild

nor savage enough for them.

Adle brought me these.

Are they yours?

Yes, sir.

Where did you

get your copies?

Out of my head.

That head I now see

on your shoulders?

Yes, sir.

Who's this?

The evening star.

- Were you happy when you painted these?

- Yes.

To paint is one of the keenest

pleasures I have ever known.

Then your pleasures

have been few.

Are you satisfied

with them?

Far from it. I imagine things

I'm powerless to execute.

You've secured the

shadow of your thoughts.

Yet the drawings are, for

a schoolgirl, peculiar.

Good night.

Come, Adle.

Most merciful Father,

we give Thee humble thanks

for this, Thy special bounty.

Amen.

- Amen.

- Amen.

Sit nicely, please, Adle.

Pilot!

Pilot, come here!

Go on,

further down!

By the river!

He's very abrupt

and changeful.

What manner

of man is he?

He's a good master.

He's fine company,

too, when he...

Except when he's

in an ill humor.

Adle.

I hate to reload.

On three.

One, two, three.

Ready?

Oh!

Think that's it, sir.

Take it down to the river.

Come on.

Keep it.

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