Work Text:
INT. ROOM, late evening
A dimly lit room. A WOMAN-SIBYL is standing by the fire, her face hidden by the shadows of the fire and a large black bonnet tied down to her chin with a striped handkerchief.
We stay a moment longer on the handkerchief as it seems to be familiar, but we move on to the little book the woman seems to be reading from. The woman seems to be giving no attention to JANE, but her posture is more rigid and more calculated than before. Jane does not notice.
We close in on JANE. A slight curiosity can be read on her face, but she is as always is. Calm and composed.
Between their unspoken battle Sybil is the one to give in first, close her book and slightly move her face towards Jane, yet still keeping it hidden.
SIBYL
(in a hurried and slightly commanding tone)
Well, and you want your fortune told?
JANE
(unfazed by the tone, almost amused by it)
If it may please you, mother, but be warned I have no faith. All you know of me has cost you less than the shilling you want received in exchange for your... gift.
SIBYL
(amused)
A woman of your position cannot be expected to be of serious character if she takes her guidance from those that society has deemed a curiosity.
JANE
Be assured, I do believe you have other talents . They are ignored apart, but together, they give the illusion of a gift. A quick eye and an even quicker brain to make sense of what you see. A gift for conversation and a flair for the dramatic, to keep your audience engaged. You have created your craft from strong and simple threads intricately woven together.
SIBYL
Then ask what have I noticed of you.
JANE
I doubt there is much to be seen. I am a governess in a grand house. I am in a room with a fire that warms me, I have my health and my wits about me.
Sibyl laughed before lighting her pipe and smoking two short puffs. Jane is slightly annoyed by the long break in conversation. She had grown weary of having ignorance and disdain as the only reactions to her person.
SIBYL
You speak of the practical, not of what is hidden beneath the fine materials of your resilient construction. You are cold, you are sick and you are silly.
Jane is surprised, but before she can protest Sibyl continues:--
SIBYL
You are cold because you are alone; no contact strikes your embers to form a fire in you. You are sick; because the best of feelings, the highest and the sweetest given to woman or man is far away from you. And you are silly, because you suffer this separation, you do not approach it when the distance is less than it would take you to walk from that door to this fire.
(almost with a bitter tone in her voice and sounding more like Mrs. Rochester)
You do not stir one step to meet where it awaits you.
Jane is a bit shaken by the words, but Sybil cannot see this, only the audience.
JANE
This may be said to almost anyone who lived and who has a similar position as I. I could easily find thousands like myself.
SIBYL
You could scarcely find me another. You are peculiarly situated; very near to happiness; yes, within reach of it. The materials are all prepared; you are to combine them. They have been let somewhat apart by chance and once approached…
(Sibyl whispers the last few words lost in the thoughts of the result of Jane’s actions)
...bliss will result.
JANE
I don’t understand. I never could guess a riddle in my life.
SIBYL
If you wish me to speak more plainly… give me your hand.
JANE
I suppose I must cross it with silver?
SIBYL
To be sure.
For the first time since she has entered the room Jane changes her position and moves closer to the fortune teller. As Jane approaches Sibyl hides her face even more.
We focus on Jane's fingers holding the coin. Sibyl takes the coin almost as if she was to interlace her fingers with Janes. We notice that Sibyl’s hands are just as fine as Jane’s. The exchange lasts longer than it should.
We move further away. Sybil sits on the chair, her whole body bowing to Jane’s hand, poring over it. Jane stands tall, as if she were the lady of the house, her face half illuminated by the fire with no readable emotion.
SIBYL
It is too fine! No lines to make something out of; besides what is in a palm? Destiny is not written there.
No...it is in the face: on the forehead, about the eyes, in the lines of the lips.
JANE
Now you are coming to reality. I shall begin to put some faith in you presently.
SIBYL
Kneel.
There is a moment of confusion on Jane’s face, but she does so, moved by the sudden familiarity of the tone of request. Still Jane keeps her distance.
SIBYL
And lift up your head.
Jane's face is fully illuminated by the light of the fire. We see what a clean face it is and how vulnerable Jane feels when she has nothing to hide behind.
SYBIL
(almost like she would try and cast a spell over Jane)
I wonder with what feelings you came to me tonight. What thoughts occupy your head during all the hours you quietly sit in yonder room with the fine people flitting before you like shapes in a magic lantern. Do you see them as shadows of human form with no actual substance?
JANE
I often feel tired, sometimes I am sleepy, but seldom...sad.
SIBYL
Then whom do you think of or what secret you have to please you with whispers of the future?
Jane feels the question to be far too invasive, but obliges an answer.
JANE
The utmost hope I have is to save enough money out of my earnings to set up my school in a house rented by myself.
SIBYL
This is a mean nutriment for the spirit, Jane. In that window seat of yours your dream of more. Tell me, do you wish for no one from the present company to occupy the other chair of your dinner table when your duties as headmistress and teacher are done? There is no face you study? No one whose movements are more appealing?
JANE
I like to observe everyone.
SIBYL
And you never single out a pair with a tale to tell?
JANE
They are all the same; courtship and its catastrophic end… marriage.
The last word comes out strained. The thought of two of the persons observed by Jane marrying is upsetting to dwell on.
SIBYL
And what criticism do you give to this theme? It is an old one; reliable in its nature. Not even the variation of a younger man, who is full of life, health and charming beauty pursuing an older woman, one who has already endured this catastrophe? Do you not wish yourself to have that vigor and rank pursue you? Out of all the gentlemen here, there isn’t one who gives life to your heart?
A cold fury momentarily stings Jane face and she forcefully replies:
JANE
I have no interest in the gentlemen here!
Jane takes a moment to compose herself and tries in vain to loosen the collar of her shit. The heat has reddened her cheeks.
JANE
I consider some respectable, stately and middle aged, and others are by any description, young, dashing, handsome and lively. They are certainly at liberty to be the recipients of whose smiles they please. I hardly have an acquaintance with them to care for the moments when they receive flattery from other ladies.
SIBYL
You don’t know the gentlemen here? You have not exchanged a word with them? Not even with the ladies? What about the mistress of the house?
JANE
She is a fine lady. But I can hardly see what she has to do with my fortune.
SIBYL
Isn’t she your mistress?
JANE
Insofar as I am in her employment.
SIBYL
And beyond the pecuniary reason you do not find a kinship with her ladyship?
Jane is careful with her next reply, she feels the words have to be spoken out just right so that Sibyl has no way of truly observing what her heart hides.
JANE
How could I? She is a fine employer and a kind mistress, but as soon as Mr. Ingram proposes and she accepts, my post here is finished. Married or not she already is the mistress of her own fortunes, while I am a dependent. What kinship can there be between us?
SIBYL
You think of the marriage of your lady as a task already accomplished.
JANE
My post depends on it. I doubt her new husband would allow Adelle to grow besides their own children.
SIBYL
You think so little of your lady that she would accept a husband that would tear away from her bosom a child so dear to her?
JANE
I know the fate of orphan girls.
SIBYL
I ask what you think of your employer.
(softly)
Is she a lady with no heart?
Jane looked away, composing her reply. This talk upsets her.
JANE
Mother, if you have nothing more to tell me about my fortunes, I shall be leaving you. I must return to my duties.
SIBYL
(with desperation in her voice)
No, Jane, you must stay! Beat.
(calmer now)
I shall tell your fortune. Chance has meted you a measure of happiness, of that I know. It is laid close beside you, stretch your hand and you shall grasp it. I see no enemy to your happiness, but your own brow. That brow that informs me that you are perfectly capable of living alone, if your self respect and circumstance require you to do so. Reason sits firm within your mind and she will not let any feelings burst. Passions may rage furiously, like the heathens they are and desire may bring forth all assortment of vain things; but your judgment shall still have the last word in every argument and decision.
Sybil leaned towards Jane, who looks like she is almost in a trance. Sybil grasped her face and brought it closer to hers. Not close enough to suspect impropriety, but closer than it would be polite; almost in preparation for a kiss.
For the first time we fully see Sybil’s face. She is in reality Mrs. Rochester, disguised.
MRS. ROCHESTER
(in her own voice now)
You need not sell your soul to buy bliss, my dea… Jane.
BEAT
Rise, Miss Eyre: leave me; the play is played out.
Jane snaps out of the enchantment the voice of Mrs. Rochester, but does not move away immediately. Instead she holds her gaze like she would if she was trying to bewitch Mrs. Rochester, while she rises above her.
JANE
What a strange thing to do, Ma'am.
MRS. ROCHESTER
(joyfully; jovially)
But well executed, was it not, Jane?
While talking to Jane, Mrs. Rochester starts to remove her disguise.
JANE
I believe so with the ladies and gentlemen. With myself, you were playing a different part, trying to draw me out, making me talk nonsense.
MRS. ROCHESTER
(in good humor, but apologetically)
Can you forgive me Jane?
JANE
I shall have to think my words over before I can offer you a response.
MRS. ROCHESTER
You were careful and sensible, my dear friend! Now, sit beside me and tell me, what do my guests think of my charade?
JANE
They were quite transfixed by your performance until a Mr. Mason from the West Indies came looking for you Ma’am. Now he is their entertainment.
Mrs. Rochester’s face falls. She took Jane’s hand into hers.
MRS. ROCHESTER
(shocked)
Mr. Mason? From the West Indies?
Oh, Jane, what would you do, if all my guests were to drop me off and sneer coldly about my person?
JANE
I should stand by you and suffer any ban or censure they laid upon me for adhering to my…friend.
Mrs. Rochester smiled at Jane.
MRS. ROCHESTER
What would I do without you, my little… friend? Come, help me greet Mr. Mason.
Jane exists the room first, followed by Mrs. Rochester, holding in her hand the coin that Jane had given her.