The ending is accurate.
“If I am mistress here,” Beauty asked without looking at him, “why am I mistress of a library of books I cannot read?”
“Why, Beauty,” he said lightly, tilting her chin so that she had nowhere to look but at him, “you are mistress of the house, and I am master of everything in it.” He dropped her chin and left his paw in her lap. It lay there like a dead thing. “Tell me,” he said, “do not you think me very ugly?”
Beauty said nothing.
“Come, you are mistress of your own voice; speak,” said the Beast.
Beauty opened her mouth.
“But remember I am master of all the words spoken in this house,” he said, taking her hands and pressing them tightly. “Remember that.”
“I think nothing of the kind,” she said.
“You may go to bed,” he told her, smiling. “I will eat your dinner for you.”