"Poor, puny things, not fit to stir a step beyond papa's park gates: nor to go even so far without mama's permission and guardianship! Creatures so absorbed in care about their pretty faces, and their white hands, and their small feet; as if a man had anything to do with beauty! As if loveliness were not the special prerogative of woman--her legitimate appanage and heritage! I grant an ugly _woman_ is a blot on the fair face of creation; but as to the _gentlemen_, let them be solicitous to possess only strength and valour: let their motto be:--Hunt, shoot, and fight: the rest is not worth a fillip.

Such should be my device, were I a man." "Whenever I marry," she continued after a pause which none interrupted, "I am resolved my husband shall not be a rival, but a foil to me.

I will suffer no competitor near the throne; I shall exact an undivided homage: his devotions shall not be shared between me and the shape he sees in his mirror.

Mr.Rochester, now sing, and I will play for you." "I am all obedience," was the response.
"Here then is a Corsair-song.

Know that I doat on Corsairs; and for that reason, sing it _con spirito_." "Commands from Miss Ingram's lips would put spirit into a mug of milk and water." "Take care, then: if you don't please me, I will shame you by showing how such things _should_ be done." "That is offering a premium on incapacity: I shall now endeavour to fail." "Gardez-vous en bien! If you err wilfully, I shall devise a proportionate punishment." "Miss Ingram ought to be clement, for she has it in her power to inflict a chastisement beyond mortal endurance." "Ha! explain!" commanded the lady.
"Pardon me, madam: no need of explanation; your own fine sense must inform you that one of your frowns would be a sufficient substitute for capital punishment." "Sing!" said she, and again touching the piano, she commenced an accompaniment in spirited style.
"Now is my time to slip away," thought I: but the tones that then severed the air arrested me.