jane-x-mr.-rochester

An Indecent Proposal
  • Jane: I must leave you.
  • Rochester: WHY JANE, WHY?? DON'T YOU LIKE IT HERE??
  • Jane: Yes, but you have a bride.
  • Rochester *PANIC. Oh crap, what does she know? Play it cool. Act natural*: Jane, I don't know what you're talking about.
  • Jane: Blanche Ingram, the woman you're about to marry!
  • Rochester *sigh of relief*: Oh her. She SO does not matter. I know I've given you every reason to THINK I am interested in Miss Ingram, but I love YOU, Jane. Can't you see how all the things I did were to make you jealous, so that you would reveal that you have feelings for me too? I mean that gypsy thing was not at all creepy in any manner, right? Don't you love me too, Jane? Oh, Jane, little bird darling say you'll marry me.
  • Jane: I am no bird.
  • Rochester: No of course you're not; that wouldn't work out all, would it? I was being metaphorical, Janet!
  • Jane: Are you making my name into a swear word?
  • Rochester: No, JANE, just say you'll marry me.
  • Jane: I don't know if I trust you.
  • Rochester: Why ever not? Is it the house? Is it the mysterious fire? Is it Grace Poole or a myriad of other issues, all of which have a very simple explanation but one that I refuse to offer?
  • Jane: Something like that, yes.
  • Rochester: So that's a YES??
Do you think I am an automaton? A machine without feelings? And can bear to have my morsel of bread snatched from my lips, and my drop of living water dashed from my cup?
Do you think, because I am poor, obscure, plain, and little, I am soulless and heartless? You think wrong! I have as much soul as you, and full as much heart! And if God had gifted me with some beauty and much wealth, I should have made it as hard for you to leave me, as it is now for me to leave you.
I am not talking to you now through the medium of custom, conventionalities, nor even of mortal flesh: it is my spirit that addresses your spirit; just as if both had passed through the grave, and we stood at God’s feet, equal, as we are!
—  Jane Eyre, Charlotte Bronte

I had not intended to love him; the reader knows I had wrought hard to extirpate from my soul the germs of love there detected; and now, at the first renewed view of him, they spontaneously revived, great and strong! He made me love him without looking at me.