If you had told Rochester, just before he came back to Thornfeild, that he would fall in love with an elf at the side of the road.
"Love? What is Love? I am not capable of loving. My heart is like an Indian rubber ball, I am bitter and I cannot love. Bertha has made sure of that. And an elf? A creature that does not exist? Are you saying that I will join my bride in a state of insanity? Will I spend my life in a world of fantasy? Will the old woman madness whisper in my ear every night? And will the young woman disease tempt me every day? I can assure you that… DAMN MY LEG!
Yeah, I wrote this in a maths class and, thus, I could not remember what Rochester said when he fell off his horse, so I decided to quote Sherlock.