MY BRIDE! WHAT BRIDE? I HAVE NO BRIDE!

TO LIVE, FOR ME, JANE, IS TO STAND ON A CRATER-CRUST WHICH MAY CRACK AND SPUE FIRE ANY DAY.
DO YOU NEVER LAUGH, MISS EYRE? DON’T TROUBLE YOURSELF TO ANSWER—I SEE YOU LAUGH RARELY; BUT YOU CAN LAUGH VERY MERRILY: BELIEVE ME, YOU ARE NOT NATURALLY AUSTERE, ANY MORE THAN I AM NATURALLY VICIOUS. THE LOWOOD CONSTRAINT STILL CLINGS TO YOU SOMEWHAT; CONTROLLING YOUR FEATURES, MUFFLING YOUR VOICE, AND RESTRICTING YOUR LIMBS; AND YOU FEAR IN THE PRESENCE OF A MAN AND A BROTHER—OR FATHER, OR MASTER, OR WHAT YOU WILL—TO SMILE TOO GAILY, SPEAK TOO FREELY, OR MOVE TOO QUICKLY: BUT, IN TIME, I THINK YOU WILL LEARN TO BE NATURAL WITH ME, AS I FIND IT IMPOSSIBLE TO BE CONVENTIONAL WITH YOU; AND THEN YOUR LOOKS AND MOVEMENTS WILL HAVE MORE VIVACITY AND VARIETY THAN THEY DARE OFFER NOW. I SEE AT INTERVALS THE GLANCE OF A CURIOUS SORT OF BIRD THROUGH THE CLOSE-SET BARS OF A CAGE: A VIVID, RESTLESS, RESOLUTE CAPTIVE IS THERE; WERE IT BUT FREE, IT WOULD SOAR CLOUD-HIGH.

DO YOU NEVER LAUGH, MISS EYRE? DON’T TROUBLE YOURSELF TO ANSWER—I SEE YOU LAUGH RARELY; BUT YOU CAN LAUGH VERY MERRILY: BELIEVE ME, YOU ARE NOT NATURALLY AUSTERE, ANY MORE THAN I AM NATURALLY VICIOUS. THE LOWOOD CONSTRAINT STILL CLINGS TO YOU SOMEWHAT; CONTROLLING YOUR FEATURES, MUFFLING YOUR VOICE, AND RESTRICTING YOUR LIMBS; AND YOU FEAR IN THE PRESENCE OF A MAN AND A BROTHER—OR FATHER, OR MASTER, OR WHAT YOU WILL—TO SMILE TOO GAILY, SPEAK TOO FREELY, OR MOVE TOO QUICKLY: BUT, IN TIME, I THINK YOU WILL LEARN TO BE NATURAL WITH ME, AS I FIND IT IMPOSSIBLE TO BE CONVENTIONAL WITH YOU; AND THEN YOUR LOOKS AND MOVEMENTS WILL HAVE MORE VIVACITY AND VARIETY THAN THEY DARE OFFER NOW. I SEE AT INTERVALS THE GLANCE OF A CURIOUS SORT OF BIRD THROUGH THE CLOSE-SET BARS OF A CAGE: A VIVID, RESTLESS, RESOLUTE CAPTIVE IS THERE; WERE IT BUT FREE, IT WOULD SOAR CLOUD-HIGH.

WERE YOU HAPPY WHEN YOU PAINTED THESE PICTURES?

I was absorbed, sir: yes, and I was happy.  To paint them, in short, was to enjoy one of the keenest pleasures I have ever known.

THAT IS NOT SAYING  MUCH.  YOUR PLEASURES, BY YOUR OWN ACCOUNT, HAVE BEEN FEW; BUT I DARESAY YOU DID EXIST IN A KIND OF ARTIST’S DREAMLAND WHILE YOU BLENT AND ARRANGED THESE STRANGE TINTS.  DID YOU SIT AT THEM LONG EACH DAY?

I had nothing else to do, because it was the vacation, and I sat at them from morning till noon, and from noon till night: the length of the midsummer days favoured my inclination to apply.

AND YOU FELT SELF-SATISFIED WITH THE RESULT OF YOUR ARDENT LABOURS?

Far from it.  I was tormented by the contrast between my idea and my handiwork: in each case I had imagined something which I was quite powerless to realise.

NOT QUITE: YOU HAVE SECURED THE SHADOW OF YOUR THOUGHT; BUT NO MORE, PROBABLY.  YOU HAD NOT ENOUGH OF THE ARTIST’S SKILL AND SCIENCE TO GIVE IT FULL BEING: YET THE DRAWINGS ARE, FOR A SCHOOL-GIRL, PECULIAR.  AS TO THE THOUGHTS, THEY ARE ELFISH.  THESE EYES IN THE EVENING STAR YOU MUST HAVE SEEN IN A DREAM.  HOW COULD YOU MAKE THEM LOOK SO CLEAR, AND YET NOT AT ALL BRILLIANT? FOR THE PLANET ABOVE QUELLS THEIR RAYS.  AND WHAT MEANING IS THAT IN THEIR SOLEMN DEPTH?  AND WHO TAUGHT YOU TO PAINT WIND?  THERE IS A HIGH GALE IN THAT SKY, AND ON THIS HILL-TOP.  WHERE DID YOU SEE LATMOS?  FOR THAT IS LATMOS.  THERE! PUT THE DRAWINGS AWAY!

Special edition: Heathcliff Talking In All Italics I’ll tell you what I did yesterday!  I got the sexton, who was digging Linton’s grave, to remove the earth off her coffin lid, and I opened it.  I thought, once, I would have stayed there: when I saw her face again—it is hers yet!—he had hard work to stir me; but he said it would change if the air blew on it, and so I struck one side of the coffin loose, and covered it up: not Linton’s side, damn him!  I wish he’d been soldered in lead.  And I bribed the sexton to pull it away when I’m laid there, and slide mine out too; I’ll have it made so: and then by the time Linton gets to us he’ll not know which is which! You were very wicked, Mr. Heathcliff! Were you not ashamed to disturb the dead? I disturbed nobody, Nelly, and I gave some ease to myself.  I shall be a great deal more comfortable now; and you’ll have a better chance of keeping me underground, when I get there.  Disturbed her?  No! she has disturbed me, night and day, through eighteen years—incessantly—remorselessly—till yesternight; and yesternight I was tranquil.  I dreamt I was sleeping the last sleep by that sleeper, with my heart stopped and my cheek frozen against hers.

Special edition: Heathcliff Talking In All Italics

I’ll tell you what I did yesterday!  I got the sexton, who was digging Linton’s grave, to remove the earth off her coffin lid, and I opened it.  I thought, once, I would have stayed there: when I saw her face again—it is hers yet!—he had hard work to stir me; but he said it would change if the air blew on it, and so I struck one side of the coffin loose, and covered it up: not Linton’s side, damn him!  I wish he’d been soldered in lead.  And I bribed the sexton to pull it away when I’m laid there, and slide mine out too; I’ll have it made so: and then by the time Linton gets to us he’ll not know which is which!

You were very wicked, Mr. Heathcliff! Were you not ashamed to disturb the dead?

I disturbed nobody, Nelly, and I gave some ease to myself.  I shall be a great deal more comfortable now; and you’ll have a better chance of keeping me underground, when I get there.  Disturbed her?  No! she has disturbed me, night and day, through eighteen years—incessantly—remorselessly—till yesternight; and yesternight I was tranquil.  I dreamt I was sleeping the last sleep by that sleeper, with my heart stopped and my cheek frozen against hers.

My dear master, I am Jane Eyre: I have found you out—I am come back to you. IN TRUTH?—IN THE FLESH? MY LIVING JANE? You touch me, sir,—you hold me, and fast enough: I am not cold like a corpse, nor vacant like air, am I? MY LIVING DARLING! THESE ARE CERTAINLY HER LIMBS, AND THESE HER FEATURES; BUT I CANNOT BE SO BLEST, AFTER ALL MY MISERY. IT IS A DREAM: SUCH DREAMS AS I HAVE HAD AT NIGHT WHEN I HAVE CLASPED HER ONCE MORE TO MY HEART, AS I DO NOW; AND KISSED HER, AS THUS—AND FELT THAT SHE LOVED ME, AND TRUSTED THAT SHE WOULD NOT LEAVE ME. Which I never will, sir, from this day. NEVER WILL, SAYS THE VISION? BUT I ALWAYS WOKE AND FOUND IT AN EMPTY MOCKERY; AND I WAS DESOLATE AND ABANDONED—MY LIFE DARK, LONELY, HOPELESS—MY SOUL ATHIRST AND FORBIDDEN TO DRINK—MY HEART FAMISHED AND NEVER TO BE FED. GENTLE, SOFT DREAM, NESTLING IN MY ARMS NOW, YOU WILL FLY, TOO, AS YOUR SISTERS HAVE ALL FLED BEFORE YOU: BUT KISS ME BEFORE YOU GO—EMBRACE ME, JANE.

My dear master, I am Jane Eyre: I have found you out—I am come back to you.

IN TRUTH?—IN THE FLESH? MY LIVING JANE?

You touch me, sir,—you hold me, and fast enough: I am not cold like a corpse, nor vacant like air, am I?

MY LIVING DARLING! THESE ARE CERTAINLY HER LIMBS, AND THESE HER FEATURES; BUT I CANNOT BE SO BLEST, AFTER ALL MY MISERY. IT IS A DREAM: SUCH DREAMS AS I HAVE HAD AT NIGHT WHEN I HAVE CLASPED HER ONCE MORE TO MY HEART, AS I DO NOW; AND KISSED HER, AS THUS—AND FELT THAT SHE LOVED ME, AND TRUSTED THAT SHE WOULD NOT LEAVE ME.

Which I never will, sir, from this day.

NEVER WILL, SAYS THE VISION? BUT I ALWAYS WOKE AND FOUND IT AN EMPTY MOCKERY; AND I WAS DESOLATE AND ABANDONED—MY LIFE DARK, LONELY, HOPELESS—MY SOUL ATHIRST AND FORBIDDEN TO DRINK—MY HEART FAMISHED AND NEVER TO BE FED. GENTLE, SOFT DREAM, NESTLING IN MY ARMS NOW, YOU WILL FLY, TOO, AS YOUR SISTERS HAVE ALL FLED BEFORE YOU: BUT KISS ME BEFORE YOU GO—EMBRACE ME, JANE.

AND THIS IS JANE EYRE? ARE YOU COMING FROM MILLCOTE, AND ON FOOT? YES—JUST ONE OF YOUR TRICKS: NOT TO SEND FOR A CARRIAGE, AND COME CLATTERING OVER STREET AND ROAD LIKE A COMMON MORTAL, BUT TO STEAL INTO THE VICINAGE OF YOUR HOME ALONG WITH TWILIGHT, JUST AS IF YOU WERE A DREAM OR A SHADE. WHAT THE DEUCE HAVE YOU DONE WITH YOURSELF THIS LAST MONTH? I have been with my aunt, sir, who is dead. A TRUE JANIAN REPLY! GOOD ANGELS BE MY GUARD! SHE COMES FROM THE OTHER WORLD—FROM THE ABODE OF PEOPLE WHO ARE DEAD; AND TELLS ME SO WHEN SHE MEETS ME ALONE HERE IN THE GLOAMING! IF I DARED, I’D TOUCH YOU, TO SEE IF YOU ARE SUBSTANCE OR SHADOW, YOU ELF!—BUT I’D AS SOON OFFER TO TAKE HOLD OF A BLUE IGNIS FATUUS LIGHT IN A MARSH. TRUANT! TRUANT! ABSENT FROM ME A WHOLE MONTH, AND FORGETTING ME QUITE, I’LL BE SWORN.

AND THIS IS JANE EYRE? ARE YOU COMING FROM MILLCOTE, AND ON FOOT? YES—JUST ONE OF YOUR TRICKS: NOT TO SEND FOR A CARRIAGE, AND COME CLATTERING OVER STREET AND ROAD LIKE A COMMON MORTAL, BUT TO STEAL INTO THE VICINAGE OF YOUR HOME ALONG WITH TWILIGHT, JUST AS IF YOU WERE A DREAM OR A SHADE. WHAT THE DEUCE HAVE YOU DONE WITH YOURSELF THIS LAST MONTH?

I have been with my aunt, sir, who is dead.

A TRUE JANIAN REPLY! GOOD ANGELS BE MY GUARD! SHE COMES FROM THE OTHER WORLD—FROM THE ABODE OF PEOPLE WHO ARE DEAD; AND TELLS ME SO WHEN SHE MEETS ME ALONE HERE IN THE GLOAMING! IF I DARED, I’D TOUCH YOU, TO SEE IF YOU ARE SUBSTANCE OR SHADOW, YOU ELF!—BUT I’D AS SOON OFFER TO TAKE HOLD OF A BLUE IGNIS FATUUS LIGHT IN A MARSH. TRUANT! TRUANT! ABSENT FROM ME A WHOLE MONTH, AND FORGETTING ME QUITE, I’LL BE SWORN.

[Flash 9 is required to listen to audio.]
Original Broadway Cast

—Sirens

ROCHESTER TALKING IN ALL CAPS: MUSICAL EDITION

I CANNOT STAND ANOTHER KNOCK
MY BODY DASHED UPON THE ROCKY SHORE
THE DARKNESS THAT INVADES MY SOUL
IT SUCKS MY BLOOD, IT TAKES CONTROL
WELL, I WILL NOT ENDURE IT ANYMORE

I don’t know the gentlemen here.  I have scarcely interchanged a syllable with one of them; and as to thinking well of them, I consider some respectable, and stately, and middle-aged, and others young, dashing, handsome, and lively: but certainly they are all at liberty to be the recipients of whose smiles they please, without my feeling disposed to consider the transaction of any moment to me. YOU DON’T KNOW THE GENTLEMEN HERE? YOU HAVE NOT EXCHANGED A SYLLABLE WITH ONE OF THEM? WILL YOU SAY THAT OF THE MASTER OF THE HOUSE! He is not at home. A PROFOUND REMARK! A MOST INGENIOUS QUIBBLE! HE WENT TO MILLCOTE THIS MORNING, AND WILL BE BACK HERE TO-NIGHT OR TO-MORROW: DOES THAT CIRCUMSTANCE EXCLUDE HIM FROM THE LIST OF YOUR ACQUAINTANCE—BLOT HIM, AS IT WERE, OUT OF EXISTENCE?

I don’t know the gentlemen here.  I have scarcely interchanged a syllable with one of them; and as to thinking well of them, I consider some respectable, and stately, and middle-aged, and others young, dashing, handsome, and lively: but certainly they are all at liberty to be the recipients of whose smiles they please, without my feeling disposed to consider the transaction of any moment to me.

YOU DON’T KNOW THE GENTLEMEN HERE? YOU HAVE NOT EXCHANGED A SYLLABLE WITH ONE OF THEM? WILL YOU SAY THAT OF THE MASTER OF THE HOUSE!

He is not at home.

A PROFOUND REMARK! A MOST INGENIOUS QUIBBLE! HE WENT TO MILLCOTE THIS MORNING, AND WILL BE BACK HERE TO-NIGHT OR TO-MORROW: DOES THAT CIRCUMSTANCE EXCLUDE HIM FROM THE LIST OF YOUR ACQUAINTANCE—BLOT HIM, AS IT WERE, OUT OF EXISTENCE?

YOU EXAMINE ME, MISS EYRE. DO YOU THINK ME HANDSOME? No, sir. AH! BY MY WORD! THERE IS SOMETHING SINGULAR ABOUT YOU. YOU HAVE THE AIR OF A LITTLE NONNETTE; QUAINT, QUIET, GRAVE, AND SIMPLE, AS YOU SIT WITH YOUR HANDS BEFORE YOU, AND YOUR EYES GENERALLY BENT ON THE CARPET (EXCEPT, BY-THE-BYE, WHEN THEY ARE DIRECTED PIERCINGLY TO MY FACE; AS JUST NOW, FOR INSTANCE); AND WHEN ONE ASKS YOU A QUESTION, OR MAKES A REMARK TO WHICH YOU ARE OBLIGED TO REPLY, YOU RAP OUT A ROUND REJOINDER, WHICH, IF NOT BLUNT, IS AT LEAST BRUSQUE. WHAT DO YOU MEAN BY IT? Sir, I was too plain; I beg your pardon.  I ought to have replied that it was not easy to give an impromptu answer to a question about appearances; that tastes mostly differ; and that beauty is of little consequence, or something of that sort. YOU OUGHT TO HAVE REPLIED NO SUCH THING. BEAUTY OF LITTLE CONSEQUENCE, INDEED! AND SO, UNDER PRETENCE OF SOFTENING THE PREVIOUS OUTRAGE, OF STROKING AND SOOTHING ME INTO PLACIDITY, YOU STICK A SLY PENKNIFE UNDER MY EAR! GO ON: WHAT FAULT DO YOU FIND WITH ME, PRAY? I SUPPOSE I HAVE ALL MY LIMBS AND ALL MY FEATURES LIKE ANY OTHER MAN? Mr. Rochester, allow me to disown my first answer: I intended no pointed repartee: it was only a blunder. JUST SO: I THINK SO: AND YOU SHALL BE ANSWERABLE FOR IT. CRITICISE ME: DOES MY FOREHEAD NOT PLEASE YOU?

YOU EXAMINE ME, MISS EYRE. DO YOU THINK ME HANDSOME?

No, sir.

AH! BY MY WORD! THERE IS SOMETHING SINGULAR ABOUT YOU. YOU HAVE THE AIR OF A LITTLE NONNETTE; QUAINT, QUIET, GRAVE, AND SIMPLE, AS YOU SIT WITH YOUR HANDS BEFORE YOU, AND YOUR EYES GENERALLY BENT ON THE CARPET (EXCEPT, BY-THE-BYE, WHEN THEY ARE DIRECTED PIERCINGLY TO MY FACE; AS JUST NOW, FOR INSTANCE); AND WHEN ONE ASKS YOU A QUESTION, OR MAKES A REMARK TO WHICH YOU ARE OBLIGED TO REPLY, YOU RAP OUT A ROUND REJOINDER, WHICH, IF NOT BLUNT, IS AT LEAST BRUSQUE. WHAT DO YOU MEAN BY IT?

Sir, I was too plain; I beg your pardon.  I ought to have replied that it was not easy to give an impromptu answer to a question about appearances; that tastes mostly differ; and that beauty is of little consequence, or something of that sort.

YOU OUGHT TO HAVE REPLIED NO SUCH THING. BEAUTY OF LITTLE CONSEQUENCE, INDEED! AND SO, UNDER PRETENCE OF SOFTENING THE PREVIOUS OUTRAGE, OF STROKING AND SOOTHING ME INTO PLACIDITY, YOU STICK A SLY PENKNIFE UNDER MY EAR! GO ON: WHAT FAULT DO YOU FIND WITH ME, PRAY? I SUPPOSE I HAVE ALL MY LIMBS AND ALL MY FEATURES LIKE ANY OTHER MAN?

Mr. Rochester, allow me to disown my first answer: I intended no pointed repartee: it was only a blunder.

JUST SO: I THINK SO: AND YOU SHALL BE ANSWERABLE FOR IT. CRITICISE ME: DOES MY FOREHEAD NOT PLEASE YOU?

IN THAT FIELD, ADELE, I WAS WALKING LATE ONE EVENING ABOUT A FORTNIGHT SINCE—THE EVENING OF THE DAY YOU HELPED ME TO MAKE HAY IN THE ORCHARD MEADOWS; AND, AS I WAS TIRED WITH RAKING SWATHS, I SAT DOWN TO REST ME ON A STILE; AND THERE I TOOK OUT A LITTLE BOOK AND A PENCIL, AND BEGAN TO WRITE ABOUT A MISFORTUNE THAT BEFELL ME LONG AGO, AND A WISH I HAD FOR HAPPY DAYS TO COME: I WAS WRITING AWAY VERY FAST, THOUGH DAYLIGHT WAS FADING FROM THE LEAF, WHEN SOMETHING CAME UP THE PATH AND STOPPED TWO YARDS OFF ME. I LOOKED AT IT. IT WAS A LITTLE THING WITH A VEIL OF GOSSAMER ON ITS HEAD. I BECKONED IT TO COME NEAR ME; IT STOOD SOON AT MY KNEE. I NEVER SPOKE TO IT, AND IT NEVER SPOKE TO ME, IN WORDS; BUT I READ ITS EYES, AND IT READ MINE; AND OUR SPEECHLESS COLLOQUY WAS TO THIS EFFECT— IT WAS A FAIRY, AND COME FROM ELF-LAND, IT SAID; AND ITS ERRAND WAS TO MAKE ME HAPPY: I MUST GO WITH IT OUT OF THE COMMON WORLD TO A LONELY PLACE—SUCH AS THE MOON, FOR INSTANCE—AND IT NODDED ITS HEAD TOWARDS HER HORN, RISING OVER HAY-HILL: IT TOLD ME OF THE ALABASTER CAVE AND SILVER VALE WHERE WE MIGHT LIVE. I SAID I SHOULD LIKE TO GO; BUT REMINDED IT, AS YOU DID ME, THAT I HAD NO WINGS TO FLY. ‘OH,’ RETURNED THE FAIRY, ‘THAT DOES NOT SIGNIFY! HERE IS A TALISMAN WILL REMOVE ALL DIFFICULTIES;’ AND SHE HELD OUT A PRETTY GOLD RING. ‘PUT IT,’ SHE SAID, ‘ON THE FOURTH FINGER OF MY LEFT HAND, AND I AM YOURS, AND YOU ARE MINE; AND WE SHALL LEAVE EARTH, AND MAKE OUR OWN HEAVEN YONDER.’ SHE NODDED AGAIN AT THE MOON. THE RING, ADELE, IS IN MY BREECHES-POCKET, UNDER THE DISGUISE OF A SOVEREIGN: BUT I MEAN SOON TO CHANGE IT TO A RING AGAIN. ~But what has mademoiselle to do with it?  I don’t care for the fairy: you said it was mademoiselle you would take to the moon?~ MADEMOISELLE IS A FAIRY.

IN THAT FIELD, ADELE, I WAS WALKING LATE ONE EVENING ABOUT A FORTNIGHT SINCE—THE EVENING OF THE DAY YOU HELPED ME TO MAKE HAY IN THE ORCHARD MEADOWS; AND, AS I WAS TIRED WITH RAKING SWATHS, I SAT DOWN TO REST ME ON A STILE; AND THERE I TOOK OUT A LITTLE BOOK AND A PENCIL, AND BEGAN TO WRITE ABOUT A MISFORTUNE THAT BEFELL ME LONG AGO, AND A WISH I HAD FOR HAPPY DAYS TO COME: I WAS WRITING AWAY VERY FAST, THOUGH DAYLIGHT WAS FADING FROM THE LEAF, WHEN SOMETHING CAME UP THE PATH AND STOPPED TWO YARDS OFF ME. I LOOKED AT IT. IT WAS A LITTLE THING WITH A VEIL OF GOSSAMER ON ITS HEAD. I BECKONED IT TO COME NEAR ME; IT STOOD SOON AT MY KNEE. I NEVER SPOKE TO IT, AND IT NEVER SPOKE TO ME, IN WORDS; BUT I READ ITS EYES, AND IT READ MINE; AND OUR SPEECHLESS COLLOQUY WAS TO THIS EFFECT—

IT WAS A FAIRY, AND COME FROM ELF-LAND, IT SAID; AND ITS ERRAND WAS TO MAKE ME HAPPY: I MUST GO WITH IT OUT OF THE COMMON WORLD TO A LONELY PLACE—SUCH AS THE MOON, FOR INSTANCE—AND IT NODDED ITS HEAD TOWARDS HER HORN, RISING OVER HAY-HILL: IT TOLD ME OF THE ALABASTER CAVE AND SILVER VALE WHERE WE MIGHT LIVE. I SAID I SHOULD LIKE TO GO; BUT REMINDED IT, AS YOU DID ME, THAT I HAD NO WINGS TO FLY.

‘OH,’ RETURNED THE FAIRY, ‘THAT DOES NOT SIGNIFY! HERE IS A TALISMAN WILL REMOVE ALL DIFFICULTIES;’ AND SHE HELD OUT A PRETTY GOLD RING. ‘PUT IT,’ SHE SAID, ‘ON THE FOURTH FINGER OF MY LEFT HAND, AND I AM YOURS, AND YOU ARE MINE; AND WE SHALL LEAVE EARTH, AND MAKE OUR OWN HEAVEN YONDER.’ SHE NODDED AGAIN AT THE MOON. THE RING, ADELE, IS IN MY BREECHES-POCKET, UNDER THE DISGUISE OF A SOVEREIGN: BUT I MEAN SOON TO CHANGE IT TO A RING AGAIN.

~But what has mademoiselle to do with it?  I don’t care for the fairy: you said it was mademoiselle you would take to the moon?~

MADEMOISELLE IS A FAIRY.

COME TO MY SIDE, JANE, AND LET US EXPLAIN AND UNDERSTAND ONE ANOTHER. I will never again come to your side: I am torn away now, and cannot return. BUT, JANE, I SUMMON YOU AS MY WIFE: IT IS YOU ONLY I INTEND TO MARRY. COME, JANE—COME HITHER. Your bride stands between us. MY BRIDE IS HERE, BECAUSE MY EQUAL IS HERE, AND MY LIKENESS. JANE, WILL YOU MARRY ME? DO YOU DOUBT ME, JANE? Entirely. YOU HAVE NO FAITH IN ME? Not a whit. AM I A LIAR IN YOUR EYES? LITTLE SCEPTIC, YOU SHALL BE CONVINCED. WHAT LOVE HAVE I FOR MISS INGRAM? NONE: AND THAT YOU KNOW. WHAT LOVE HAS SHE FOR ME? NONE: AS I HAVE TAKEN PAINS TO PROVE: I CAUSED A RUMOUR TO REACH HER THAT MY FORTUNE WAS NOT A THIRD OF WHAT WAS SUPPOSED, AND AFTER THAT I PRESENTED MYSELF TO SEE THE RESULT: IT WAS COLDNESS BOTH FROM HER AND HER MOTHER. I WOULD NOT—I COULD NOT—MARRY MISS INGRAM. YOU—YOU STRANGE, YOU ALMOST UNEARTHLY THING!—I LOVE AS MY OWN FLESH. YOU—POOR AND OBSCURE, AND SMALL AND PLAIN AS YOU ARE—I ENTREAT TO ACCEPT ME AS A HUSBAND.

COME TO MY SIDE, JANE, AND LET US EXPLAIN AND UNDERSTAND ONE ANOTHER.

I will never again come to your side: I am torn away now, and cannot return.

BUT, JANE, I SUMMON YOU AS MY WIFE: IT IS YOU ONLY I INTEND TO MARRY.

COME, JANE—COME HITHER.

Your bride stands between us.

MY BRIDE IS HERE, BECAUSE MY EQUAL IS HERE, AND MY LIKENESS. JANE, WILL YOU MARRY ME?

DO YOU DOUBT ME, JANE?

Entirely.

YOU HAVE NO FAITH IN ME?

Not a whit.

AM I A LIAR IN YOUR EYES? LITTLE SCEPTIC, YOU SHALL BE CONVINCED. WHAT LOVE HAVE I FOR MISS INGRAM? NONE: AND THAT YOU KNOW. WHAT LOVE HAS SHE FOR ME? NONE: AS I HAVE TAKEN PAINS TO PROVE: I CAUSED A RUMOUR TO REACH HER THAT MY FORTUNE WAS NOT A THIRD OF WHAT WAS SUPPOSED, AND AFTER THAT I PRESENTED MYSELF TO SEE THE RESULT: IT WAS COLDNESS BOTH FROM HER AND HER MOTHER. I WOULD NOT—I COULD NOT—MARRY MISS INGRAM. YOU—YOU STRANGE, YOU ALMOST UNEARTHLY THING!—I LOVE AS MY OWN FLESH. YOU—POOR AND OBSCURE, AND SMALL AND PLAIN AS YOU ARE—I ENTREAT TO ACCEPT ME AS A HUSBAND.