Rochester: Thornfield is a pleasant place in spring, isn’t it?
Jane Eyre: Yes, sir.
Rochester: You’ll be sorry to part with it. It’s always the way with events in life. No sooner have you got settled then a voice cries, “Rise and move on!” I’ll find you a new situation, Jane. One I hope that you’ll accept.
Jane Eyre: I shall be ready when your order to march comes.
Rochester: Must I really lose a faithful paid subordinate such as yourself?
Jane Eyre: You must.
Rochester: We’ve been good friends, haven’t we?
Jane Eyre: Yes, sir.
Rochester: I’ve a strange feeling with regard to you, as if I had a strong somewhere under my left ribs, tightly knotted to a similar string in you. And if you were to leave, I’m afraid that cord of communion would snap, and I’ve a notion that I’d take to bleeding inwardly. As for you, you’d forget me.
Jane Eyre: How? I have lived a full life here. I have not been trampled on. I have not been petrified. I have not been excluded from every glimpse that is bright. I have known you, Mr. Rochester and it strikes me with anguish to be torn from you.
Rochester: Then why must you leave?
Jane Eyre: Because of your wife.
Rochester: I have no wife.
Jane Eyre: But your are to be married.
Rochester: Jane, you must stay.
Jane Eyre: And become nothing to you? Am I a machine with out feelings? Do you think that because I am poor, plain, obscure, and little that I am soulless and heartless? I have as much soul as you and full as much heart. And if God had possessed me with beauty and wealth, I could make it as hard for you to leave me as I to leave you… I’m not speaking to you through mortal flesh. It is my spirit that addresses your spirit, as it passes through the grave and stood at God’s feet equal. As we are.
Rochester: As we are.
Jane Eyre: I am a free human being with an independent will, which I now exert to leave you.
Rochester: Than let you will decide your destiny. I offer you my hand, my heart. Jane, I ask you too pass through life at my side. You are my equal, my likeness… Will you marry me?
Jane Eyre: Are you mocking me?
Rochester: Do you doubt me?
Jane Eyre: Entirely. Your bride is Miss Ingram.
Rochester: Miss Ingram! She is the machine without feelings. It’s you, you rare unearthly thing. Poor and obscure as you are. Please accept me as your husband. I must have you for my own.
Jane Eyre: You wish me to be your wife?
Rochester: I swear it.
Jane Eyre: You love me?
Rochester: I do.
Jane Eyre: Then, sir, I will marry you.