Wuthering Heights Script - Dialogue Transcript

Voila! Finally, the Wuthering Heights script is here for all you quotes spouting fans of the Emily Bronte movie with Laurence Olivier.  This script is a transcript that was painstakingly transcribed using the screenplay and/or viewings of Wuthering Heights. I know, I know, I still need to get the cast names in there and I'll be eternally tweaking it, so if you have any corrections, feel free to drop me a line. You won't hurt my feelings. Honest.

Swing on back to Drew's Script-O-Rama afterwards for more free movie scripts!

Wuthering Heights Script


  

  

 

                   

Call off your ungodLy dogs!



 

                   

Down!



 

                   

Quiet! Down!



 

                   

Are you Mr. Heathcliff?



 

                   

Well, I'm Mr. Lockwood,

your new tenant at the Grange.



 

                   

I'm Iost. I--



 

                   

Can I get a guide

from amongst your Iads?



 

                   

No, you cannot. I've onLy got one,

and he's needed here.



 

                   

Well, then, I'll have to stay

till morning.



  

                   

Do as you pIease.



  

                   

Quiet! Down!



  

                   

Thank you for your hospitality.

CouId you extend it to a cup of tea?



  

                   

- Shall I?

- You heard him ask for it.



  

                   

Thank you.



  

                   

I presume the amiabIe Iady

is Mrs. Heathcliff?



  

                   

WouId it be taxing your remarkabIe

hospitality if I sat down?



  

                   

I hope my hospitality

will teach you...



  

                   

not to make rash journeys

on these moors.



  

                   

As for staying here, I don't keep

accommodations for visitors.



  

                   

You can share a bed

with one of the servants.



  

                   

Thanks. I'll sIeep in a chair, sir.



  

                   

No. A stranger is a stranger.



  

                   

Guests are so rare in this house

that I hardLy know how to receive them.



  

                   

I and my dog.



  

                   

Joseph, open up

one of the upstairs rooms.



  

                   

Here's a room for thee, sir.



  

                   

BridaI chamber.



  

                   

Nobody sIept here for years.



  

                   

It's a trifIe depressing.



  

                   

- Can you light a fire?

- No fire will burn in yonder grate.



  

                   

ChimbIey's all bIocked up.



  

                   

Very well. Thanks.



  

                   

Good night.



  

                   

I said good night.



  

                   

Heathcliff!



  

                   

Let me in!



  

                   

I'm Iost on the moors!



  

                   

- It's Cathy!

- HeIp! Mr. Heathcliff!



  

                   

There's somebody out!



  

                   

Oh, Mr. Heathcliff!



  

                   

There's someone out there.

It's a woman. I heard her calling.



  

                   

She said her name.

Cathy. That was it!



  

                   

Cathy?



  

                   

Oh, I must have been dreaming.

Forgive me.



  

                   

Get out of this room.

Get out!



  

                   

Get out, I tell you!



  

                   

Cathy! Come in!



  

                   

Cathy, come back to me.



  

                   

Oh, do come once more.



  

                   

Oh, my heart's darling!



  

                   

Cathy. My own--



  

                   

My--



  

                   

Where's he going in the storm?



  

                   

She calls him...



  

                   

and he follows her out

onto the moor.



  

                   

He's mad! He's like a madman.



  

                   

He seized me by the collar

and fIung me out.



  

                   

You see, I had a dream.



  

                   

I thought I heard a voice calling.



  

                   

I reached out to cIose the shutter,

and something touched me.



  

                   

Something coId and clinging,

like an icy hand.



  

                   

And then I saw her.

A woman.



  

                   

Then my senses must have become

disordered because the falling snow...



  

                   

shaped itseIf into what Iooked like

a phantom, but there was nothing.



  

                   

It was Cathy.



  

                   

Who is Cathy?



  

                   

A girI who died.



  

                   

Oh, no, I don't believe in ghosts.



  

                   

I don't believe in phantoms

sobbing through the night.



  

                   

- Poor Cathy.

- I don't believe life comes back...



  

                   

once it's died

and calls again to the living.



  

                   

No, I don't.



  

                   

Maybe if I toId you her story,

you'd change your mind...



  

                   

about the dead coming back.



  

                   

Maybe you'd know, as I do...



  

                   

that there is a force

that brings them back...



  

                   

if their hearts

were wild enough in life.



  

                   

Tell me her story.



  

                   

It began    years ago...



  

                   

when I was young...



  

                   

in the service of Mr. Earnshaw...



  

                   

Cathy's father.



  

                   

Cathy's father.



  

                   

Wuthering Heights was a IoveLy pIace

in those days...



  

                   

full of summertime and youth

and happy voices.



  

                   

One day Mr. Earnshaw was returning

from a visit to LiverpooI.



  

                   

- You'll not catch me!

- Yes, I will!



  

                   

Cathy, go wash! I don't want your father

to see you in that dress.



  

                   

You too, HindIey.

Hurry up, now.



  

                   

I don't want to get washed!



  

                   

Come aIong! I'll tell your father not

to give you the present he's bringing.



  

                   

- What's he bringing?

- Go aIong upstairs.



  

                   

Joseph says his horse

is coming over the hill.



  

                   

Evening, Mr. Earnshaw.



  

                   

- Hello, Joseph.

- Hello, neighbor Earnshaw.



  

                   

- How are you, Dr. Kenneth?

- Back so soon?



  

                   

What in the worId have you got there?



  

                   

A gift of God.



  

                   

AIthough it's as dark

as if he came from the devil.



   

                   

- Quiet, me bonny Iad, we're home.

- He's a dour-Iooking individuaI.



   

                   

Aye, and with reason.

I found him starving in LiverpooI...



   

                   

kicked and bruised and aImost dead.



   

                   

So you kidnapped him.



   

                   

Not until I spent two pounds trying

to find out who its owner was.



   

                   

But nobody wouId cIaim him,

so I brought him home.



   

                   

- Giddap!

- Here, here!



   

                   

Come on, you young imp of Satan.

Off with ye.



   

                   

- Cathy, HindIey!

- WeIcome home. The children are coming.



   

                   

Don't Iook so shocked, Ellen.



   

                   

He's going to live with us for a while.

Give him a good scrubbing...



   

                   

and put some Christian cIothes on him.



   

                   

Food is what he needs most,

Mr. Earnshaw.



   

                   

He's as thin as a sparrow.

Come into the kitchen, child.



   

                   

Cathy! HindIey!



   

                   

- Father, what did you bring me?

- Hello, Father!



   

                   

There you are.

It's what you've aIways wanted.



   

                   

A riding crop.

Be carefuI how you use it.



   

                   

- Oh, it's wonderfuI!

- I'm so gIad you got back soon.



   

                   

- It's wonderfuI!

- Ow! Father, make her stop!



   

                   

No, children.



   

                   

This is HindIey's violin.



   

                   

One of the best in LiverpooI.



   

                   

Here. Fine tone.



   

                   

And a bow to go with it.



   

                   

Here you are, Paganini.



   

                   

Who's that?



   

                   

- He was hungry as a woIf.

- Oh, children.



   

                   

This is a littIe gentIeman I met

in LiverpooI who will pay us a visit.



   

                   

He-- He's dirty.



   

                   

Oh, no. Don't make me

ashamed of you, Cathy.



   

                   

When he's been scrubbed,

show him HindIey's room.



   

                   

- He'll sIeep there.

- In my room?



   

                   

He can't. I won't Iet him.



   

                   

Children, you may as well Iearn now

that you must share what you have...



   

                   

with others not as fortunate

as yourseIves.



   

                   

- Take charge of the Iad, Ellen.

- Come aIong, child.



   

                   

What's your name?



   

                   

We'll call him Heathcliff.



   

                   

Heathcliff, I'll race you to the barn.

The Ioser has to be the sIave.



   

                   

Come on!



   

                   

Faster!



   

                   

Come on!



   

                   

Whoa. I won!



   

                   

You're my sIave! You have to do

as I say. Water my horse and groom it!



   

                   

Oh, that's not fair!

It's too reaI.



   

                   

- What do you want?

- This horse.



   

                   

- You can't have him. He's mine!

- Mine's Iame. I'm riding yours.



   

                   

Give him to me or I'll tell Father you

boasted you'd turn me out when he died!



   

                   

That's a lie!

I never said such a thing.



   

                   

- He didn't!

- You never had a father!



   

                   

You gypsy beggar!

You can't have mine!



   

                   

Stop that!



   

                   

- Heathcliff, Iook out!

- Don't come near me!



   

                   

Let him go!

You killed him!



   

                   

I'm going to tell Father.

He'll punish you for this.



   

                   

You can't go near him

till he's well.



   

                   

- You heard Dr. Kenneth!

- Are you hurt badLy?



   

                   

TaIk to me.



   

                   

Why don't you cry?

Heathcliff, don't Iook like that!



   

                   

How can I pay him back?



   

                   

I don't care how Iong I wait...



   

                   

if I can onLy pay him back.



   

                   

Come. Let's pick harebells

on Penistone Crag.



   

                   

You can ride Jane.



   

                   

PIease, milord?



   

                   

- Oh, Heathcliff.

- Whoa, Jane.



   

                   

- You're so handsome when you smile.

- Don't make fun of me.



   

                   

Don't you know that you're handsome?

Do you know what I've toId Ellen?



   

                   

- You're a prince in disguise.

- You did?



   

                   

I said your father was the emperor of

China and your mother an Indian queen.



   

                   

It's true, Heathcliff.



   

                   

You were kidnapped by wicked sailors

and brought to EngIand.



   

                   

But I'm gIad. I've aIways wanted to know

somebody of nobIe birth.



   

                   

All the princes I ever read about

had castIes.



   

                   

Of course. They captured them.

You must capture one too.



   

                   

There's a beautifuI castIe that lies

waiting for your Iance, Sir Prince.



   

                   

You mean Penistone Crag?

Aw, that's just a rock.



   

                   

If you can't see that's a castIe,

you'll never be a prince.



   

                   

Here, take your Iance and charge!



   

                   

See that bIack knight at the drawbridge?

Challenge him!



   

                   

Charge!



   

                   

I challenge you to mortaI combat,

BIack Knight!



   

                   

Heathcliff! You've killed him!

You've killed the bIack knight!



   

                   

He's earned it for all his wicked deeds.



   

                   

Oh, it's a wonderfuI castIe.



   

                   

- Heathcliff, Iet's never Ieave it.

- Never in our lives!



   

                   

Let all the worId confess,

there is not a more beautifuI damseI...



   

                   

than the Princess Catherine

of Yorkshire.



   

                   

But I'm still your sIave.



   

                   

No, Cathy.

I now make you my queen.



   

                   

Whatever happens out there,

here you will aIways be my queen.



   

                   

How is he, Doctor?



   

                   

He is at peace.



   

                   

Send for the vicar, Joseph.



   

                   

My dear, wild littIe Cathy.



   

                   

You may come up

and pray beside him now.



   

                   

You're not wanted up there.



   

                   

My father is past your wheedling.



   

                   

Go and heIp the stabIe boys

harness the horse for the vicar.



   

                   

Do as you're toId.

I'm master here now.



   

                   

And as the children grew up, HindIey

was indeed master of Wuthering Heights.



   

                   

It was no Ionger the happy home

of their childhood.



   

                   

- Joseph, bring me another bottIe.

- That's the third, Mr. HindIey.



   

                   

The third or the twenty-third,

bring me another.



   

                   

Wine is a mocker.

Strong drink is raging, Master HindIey.



   

                   

Stop spouting scripture and do

as you're toId, you croaking oId parrot.



   

                   

Yes, Master HindIey.



   

                   

Sit down, Cathy,

till you're excused from the tabIe.



   

                   

Joseph, fill Miss Cathy's gIass.



   

                   

Oh, my littIe sister disapproves

of drinking.



   

                   

Well, I know some peopIe who don't.



   

                   

Heathcliff, saddIe my horse.

Be quick about it, you gypsy beggar.



   

                   

I toId you to be quick.



   

                   

Look at this stabIe. It's a pigsty.

Is this the way you do your work?



   

                   

CIean it up. I want this fIoor

cIeaned and scrubbed tonight.



   

                   

Don't stand there showing your teeth.

Give me a hand up.



   

                   

I want your work done

when I come back at dawn, do you hear?



   

                   

Oh, you're hoping I won't come back.



   

                   

You're hoping I'll fall

and break my neck, aren't you?



   

                   

Aren't you?



   

                   

Well, come on, Heathcliff.



   

                   

Heathcliff, where are you going?



   

                   

Come back!



   

                   

- Did Joseph see which way you came?

- What does it matter?



   

                   

Nothing's reaI down there.

Our life is here.



   

                   

Yes, milord.



   

                   

The cIouds are Iowering

over Gimmerton Head.



   

                   

See how the light is changing?



   

                   

It wouId be dreadfuI

if HindIey ever found out.



   

                   

Found out what?



   

                   

That you taIk to me

once in a while?



   

                   

I shouIdn't taIk to you at all.



   

                   

Look at you!

You get worse every day.



   

                   

Dirty and unkempt and in rags.

Why aren't you a man?



   

                   

Heathcliff,

why don't you run away?



   

                   

Run away? From you?



   

                   

You couId come back rich

and take me away.



   

                   

Why aren't you my prince

like we said Iong ago?



   

                   

- Why can't you rescue me?

- Come with me now.



   

                   

- Where?

- Anywhere!



   

                   

And live in haystacks and steaI our food

from the marketpIaces?



   

                   

No. That's not what I want.



   

                   

You just want to send me off.

That won't do.



   

                   

I've stayed here

and been beaten like a dog.



   

                   

Abused and cursed and driven mad,

but I stayed just to be near you.



   

                   

Even as a dog! I'll stay till the end.

I'll live and I'll die under this rock.



   

                   

Do you hear?



   

                   

Music.



   

                   

The Lintons are giving a party.



   

                   

That's what I want.

Dancing and singing in a pretty worId.



   

                   

And I'm going to have it.



   

                   

Come on. Let's go and see.

Come on!



   

                   

Isn't it wonderfuI?



   

                   

Isn't she beautifuI?

That's the kind of dress I'll wear.



   

                   

You'll have a red veIvet coat

with silver buckIes on your shoes.



   

                   

Oh, will we ever?



   

                   

Quick.



   

                   

- HoId him, SkuIker, FIash!

- Call off your dogs, you fooIs!



   

                   

Stay where you are.

There's nothing to be aIarmed about.



   

                   

- Who is it?

- I don't know.



   

                   

PIease, back into the ballroom.



   

                   

- Let me go!

- HoId that man.



   

                   

HoId onto him!



   

                   

- Who is it Edgar?

- Catherine Earnshaw, Father.



   

                   

- Who's this with her?

- Their stabIe boy.



   

                   

She's bIeeding. Bring hot water,

Isabella, and bandages.



   

                   

- Yes. How badLy is she hurt?

- Can't tell.



   

                   

Send Robert to get Dr. Kenneth

in the shay. Hurry.



   

                   

- You'll pay for this!

- HoId your tongue, insoIent rascaI!



   

                   

- Get out of this house.

- I won't go without Cathy.



   

                   

Father, pIease, she's in pain.



   

                   

Go on. Run away.



   

                   

Bring me back the worId.



   

                   

- Pack this fellow off.

- I'm going.



   

                   

I'm going from here

and from this cursed country both.



   

                   

Throw him out!



   

                   

But I'll be back in this house one day,

Judge Linton. I'll pay you out.



   

                   

I'll bring this house down in ruins

about your heads.



   

                   

That's my curse on you!



   

                   

On all of you!



   

                   

And so Cathy found herseIf

in this new worId...



   

                   

she had so often Ionged to enter.



   

                   

After some happy weeks, Mr. Edgar

brought her back to Wuthering Heights.



   

                   

WeIcome home, Miss Cathy!

How do you do, Mr. Linton?



   

                   

Don't stir!

I'll get Joseph to carry you.



   

                   

Carry her?

She runs like a littIe goat.



   

                   

Ellen, I've been dancing,

night after night!



   

                   

Oh, how beautifuI you Iook! Wherever

did you get that beautifuI dress?



   

                   

Mr. Linton's sister Ient it to me.

Isn't it wonderfuI?



   

                   

Edgar, do come in for tea.



   

                   

As soon as the horses

have been seen to.



   

                   

I'll find someone.



   

                   

Is he here?



   

                   

He came back Iast week

with great taIk...



   

                   

of Lying in a Iake of fire without you--

how he had to see you to live.



   

                   

He's unbearabIe.

Where couId he be, the scoundreI?



   

                   

Why did you stay so Iong

in that house?



   

                   

I didn't expect to find you here.



   

                   

Why did you stay so Iong?



   

                   

Why? Because I was having

a wonderfuI time.



   

                   

A delightfuI, fascinating,

wonderfuI time...



   

                   

among human beings.



   

                   

Go and wash your face and hands,

and comb your hair...



   

                   

so that I needn't be ashamed of you

in front of a guest.



   

                   

What are you doing in this part of the

house? Look after Mr. Linton's horses.



   

                   

Let him Iook after his own.



   

                   

- I've aIready done so.

- ApoIogize to Mr. Linton at once.



   

                   

Bring in some tea, pIease.



   

                   

- Cathy.

- Yes, Edgar?



   

                   

I cannot understand how your brother

can allow that gypsy in the house.



   

                   

Don't taIk about him.



   

                   

How can you, a gentIewoman,

toIerate him under your roof?



   

                   

A roadside beggar giving himseIf

airs of equality. How can you?



   

                   

What do you know about Heathcliff?



   

                   

- All I need or want to know.

- He was my friend Iong before you.



   

                   

- That bIackguard?

- BIackguard and all, he beIongs here.



   

                   

Speak well of him or get out!



   

                   

- Are you out of your senses?

- Stop calling those I Iove names!



   

                   

Those you Iove?



   

                   

Cathy, what possesses you?

Do you realize the things you're saying?



   

                   

I'm saying that I hate you.



   

                   

I hate the Iook of your milk-white face.



   

                   

I hate the touch of your soft,

foolish hands.



   

                   

That gypsy's evil souI

has got into you.



   

                   

- Yes, it's true!

- That beggar's dirt is on you!



   

                   

Yes! Now get out!



   

                   

My dear.



   

                   

Leave me aIone.



   

                   

Forgive me, Heathcliff.



   

                   

Make the worId stop right here.



   

                   

Make everything stop and stand still

and never move again.



   

                   

Make the moors never change

and you and I never change.



   

                   

The moors and I will never change.



   

                   

- Don't you, Cathy.

- I can't.



   

                   

No matter what I ever do or say,

this is me now.



   

                   

Standing on this hill with you.



   

                   

This is me forever.



   

                   

Come.



   

                   

When you went away, what did you do?

Where did you go?



   

                   

I went to LiverpooI.



   

                   

One night I shipped for America

on a brigantine going to New OrIeans.



   

                   

We were heId up by the tide,

and I Iay all night on the deck...



   

                   

thinking of you and the years

and years ahead without you.



   

                   

I jumped overboard

and swam ashore.



   

                   

I think I'd have died if you hadn't.



   

                   

You're not thinking

of that other worId now.



   

                   

Smell the heather.



   

                   

Fill my arms with heather.

All they can hoId.



   

                   

Come on.



   

                   

You're still my queen!



   

                   

And as time went by...



   

                   

Cathy again was torn between her wild,

uncontrollabIe passion for Heathcliff...



   

                   

and the new life

she had found at the Grange...



   

                   

that she couId not forget.



   

                   

I got the soap in my eyes!

Where's the toweI?



   

                   

- Oh, it's hot!

- No, it's just--



   

                   

- It's hot!

- Don't do that!



   

                   

Ellen, haven't you finished yet?



   

                   

Supposing you're not ready

when he gets here. Keep still.



   

                   

Any young man that will come sniveling

back after the way you treated him...



   

                   

you can keep waiting forever.



   

                   

What's wrong with him, sending you

perfume? Hasn't he any pride?



   

                   

I sent my apoIogies, didn't I?



   

                   

I can't believe this change in you,

Miss Cathy.



   

                   

Yesterday you were a harum-scarum child

with dirty hands and a willfuI heart.



   

                   

Look at you.



   

                   

Oh, you're IoveLy, Miss Cathy.

LoveLy.



   

                   

That's a very silly lie.



   

                   

I'm not IoveLy.

What I am is very brilliant.



   

                   

- I have a wonderfuI brain.

- Indeed?



   

                   

It enabIes me to be superior

to myseIf.



   

                   

There's nothing to be gained

by just Iooking pretty like Isabella.



   

                   

Every beauty mark must conceaI a thought

and every curI be full of humor...



   

                   

as well as brilliantine.



   

                   

as well as brilliantine.



   

                   

Such prattIe. We--



   

                   

Since when are you in the habit

of entering my room, Heathcliff?



   

                   

I want to taIk to you.

Go outside, Ellen.



   

                   

I will not! I take orders from

Mistress Catherine, not stabIe boys.



   

                   

Go outside.



   

                   

All right, Ellen.



   

                   

Now that we're so happiLy aIone, may I

know to what I owe this great honor?



   

                   

- He's coming here again.

- You're utterLy unbearabIe.



   

                   

You didn't think so this morning

on the moors.



   

                   

- Well, my moods change indoors.

- Is he coming here?



   

                   

- Of course not. PIease go away.

- You're Lying!



   

                   

Why are you dressed up

in a silk dress?



   

                   

Because gentIefoIk dress for dinner.



   

                   

Not you. Why are you trying to win

his puling fIatteries?



   

                   

I'm not a child.

You can't taIk like that to me.



   

                   

I'm not taIking to a child.

I'm taIking to my Cathy.



   

                   

- Oh, I'm your Cathy?

- Yes!



   

                   

I'm to take your orders

and allow you to seIect my dresses?



   

                   

You're not gonna simper in front of him,

listening to his silly taIk!



   

                   

I'm not?



   

                   

Well, I am. It's more entertaining

that listening to a stabIe boy.



   

                   

- Don't you taIk like that.

- I will. Go away.



   

                   

This is my room, a Iady's room, not

a room for servants with dirty hands.



   

                   

Let me aIone!



   

                   

Yes.



   

                   

Tell the dirty stabIe boy

to Iet go of you.



   

                   

He soils your pretty dress.



   

                   

But who soils your heart?

Not Heathcliff!



   

                   

Who turns you into a vain, cheap,

worIdLy fooI? Linton does!



   

                   

You'll never Iove him, but you'll Iet

yourseIf be Ioved to pIease your vanity.



   

                   

Loved by that milksop

with buckIes on his shoes!



   

                   

Stop it and get out!



   

                   

You had your chance

to be something eIse.



   

                   

But thief or servant were all you were

born to be, or beggar beside a road.



   

                   

Not earning favors, but whimpering

for them with your dirty hands!



   

                   

That's all I've become to you:

a pair of dirty hands.



   

                   

Well, have them then!



   

                   

Have them where they beIong!



   

                   

It doesn't heIp to strike you.



   

                   

Good evening, Ellen.

I hope I'm not too earLy.



   

                   

- Miss Cathy will be down in a minute.

- Thanks.



   

                   

If you'll go into the parIor,

I'll tell Miss Cathy you're here.



   

                   

HaIf past eight.

UnhoLy hour.



   

                   

Doesn't he know, young fooI,

when it's time to go home?



   

                   

That's Mr. Edgar now.



   

                   

Go and fetch his horse.



   

                   

- Take these appIes into the Iarder.

- Yea, Lord.



   

                   

Spare the righteous

and smite the ungodLy.



   

                   

Stop your pratter.



   

                   

- Good night, Joseph.

- Good night, sir.



   

                   

Has he gone?



   

                   

Your hands! What have you done?



   

                   

Linton. Is he gone?



   

                   

What have you done to your hands?



   

                   

What have you been doing?



   

                   

I want to crawI to her feet,

whimper to be forgiven...



   

                   

for Ioving me, for needing her

more than my own life...



   

                   

for beIonging to her

more than my own souI.



   

                   

Don't Iet her see me.



   

                   

I wondered whether you were still up.

I have some news!



   

                   

The kitchen is no pIace for that.

Come into the parIor.



   

                   

Come here.

Sit down. Listen!



   

                   

Can you keep a secret?

Edgar's asked me to marry him.



   

                   

- What did you tell him?

- That I'd give him my answer tomorrow.



   

                   

Do you Iove him, Miss Cathy?



   

                   

- Yes! Of course.

- Why?



   

                   

Why? That's a silly question,

isn't it?



   

                   

No, not so silly.

Why do you Iove him?



   

                   

He's handsome and pIeasant to be with.



   

                   

- That's not enough.

- Because he'll be rich someday.



   

                   

I'll be the finest Iady in the county.



   

                   

Now tell me how you Iove him.



   

                   

I Iove the ground under his feet,

the air above his head...



   

                   

and everything he touches.



   

                   

What about Heathcliff?



   

                   

Oh, Heathcliff.

He gets worse every day.



   

                   

It wouId degrade me to marry him.



   

                   

I wish he hadn't come back.



   

                   

It wouId be heaven to escape

from this disorderLy, comfortIess pIace.



   

                   

Well, if Master Edgar and his charms

and money...



   

                   

Well, if Master Edgar and his charms

and money...



   

                   

and parties mean heaven to you...



   

                   

what's to keep you from taking

your pIace among the Linton angeIs?



   

                   

I don't think I beIong in heaven.



   

                   

I dreamt once I was there.



   

                   

I dreamt I went to heaven,

and it didn't seem to be my home.



   

                   

I broke my heart with weeping

to come back to earth.



   

                   

The angeIs were so angry, they fIung me

out in the middIe of the heath...



   

                   

on top of Wuthering Heights.



   

                   

I woke up sobbing with joy.



   

                   

That's it, Ellen!



   

                   

I have no more business marrying Edgar

than I have of being in heaven.



   

                   

But Ellen, what can I do?



   

                   

You're thinking of Heathcliff.



   

                   

Who eIse?



   

                   

He's sunk so Iow. He seems

to take pIeasure in being brutaI.



   

                   

And yet...



   

                   

he's more myseIf than I am.



   

                   

Whatever our souIs are made of,

his and mine are the same.



   

                   

Linton's is as different

as frost from fire.



   

                   

My one thought in living is Heathcliff.



   

                   

I am Heathcliff.



   

                   

Everything he's suffered,

I've suffered.



   

                   

The littIe happiness he's ever known,

I've had too.



   

                   

If everything died

and Heathcliff remained...



   

                   

life wouId still be full for me.



   

                   

Hey, Heathcliff!

Where's thee going?



   

                   

Heathcliff!

Come back!



   

                   

He must have been listening.



   

                   

- Listening to us?

- Yes.



   

                   

Where?



   

                   

How much did he hear?



   

                   

I'm not sure, but I think...



   

                   

to where you said it wouId degrade you

to marry him.



   

                   

There's no use in calling.

He's run away on master's best horse.



   

                   

Come out of this storm!

You'll catch your death of coId!



   

                   

- He won't come back!

- Last time he did!



   

                   

This time he won't.

I know him.



   

                   

- Which way did he go, Joseph?

- Yonder. Right on west moor.



   

                   

- Come in! You must come in.

- The fooI.



   

                   

He shouId have known

I Iove him. I Iove him!



   

                   

Heathcliff, come back!



   

                   

- Thank heaven you've come home!

- I toId Joseph to stay awake!



   

                   

- Do I unsaddIe my own horse?

- You've got to go out again!



   

                   

Miss Cathy's gone! They're Iooking

for her-- Joseph, everybody!



   

                   

- Gone where?

- Out in the storm, hours ago.



   

                   

Heathcliff ran away. He took a horse,

and she went running after him.



   

                   

- Oh, she did?

- Yes.



   

                   

Don't stand there with your mouth open.

Fetch me a bottIe and we'll ceIebrate.



   

                   

Master HindIey, she'll die on the moors.



   

                   

- You've got to heIp.

- Do as I tell you!



   

                   

If she's gone off with that gypsy scum,

Iet her run.



   

                   

Let her run through storm and hell.

They're birds of a feather.



   

                   

The devil can take them both.

Get me a bottIe.



   

                   

- Take her into the library.

- Get a fire in the east room.



   

                   

And some brandy.



   

                   

Turn this around to the fire.



   

                   

- The brandy, Miss Isabella.

- Get some dry toweIs. QuickLy.



   

                   

- Where was she?

- The rocks on Penistone Crag...



   

                   

the life aImost out of her.



   

                   

Twenty drops in a gIass of cIaret,

well warmed.



   

                   

Then add a Iump of sugar.

There's nothing eIse I can tell you...



   

                   

except keep her in the sun

and give her pIenty of cream and butter.



   

                   

In another month

you'll be feeling like new.



   

                   

- Good-bye, dear.

- Good-bye, Dr. Kenneth.



   

                   

She'll be going home soon, Doctor.



   

                   

What's needed is peace and orderliness

in her life.



   

                   

That's not to be found

at Wuthering Heights.



   

                   

- Has she mentioned him at all?

- Not since the delirium passed.



   

                   

Sometimes fever can heaI

as well as destroy.



   

                   

I made some inquiries in the village

of the peopIe who knew him.



   

                   

- What did you hear?

- No sign nor hint of Heathcliff.



   

                   

- He's disappeared into thin air.

- Heaven hope.



   

                   

''... days and yon pursuits.''



   

                   

- Hello, Edgar.

- Isabella. How's our invalid?



   

                   

- Much better I think.

- Let me have a Iook at her.



   

                   

Where have you been all day?

I've missed you.



   

                   

Oh, this time of year every tenant

has something to compIain about.



   

                   

I've been arguing with oId Swithin...



   

                   

whether we'd build him a new pigsty.



   

                   

Yes?



   

                   

He decided we shouId.



   

                   

I saw HindIey in the village

this afternoon.



   

                   

He wanted to know

when you'll be coming home.



   

                   

I wasn't very truthfuI. I toId him

Dr. Kenneth said it wouId be months.



   

                   

Give me that.

It's time for her medicine.



   

                   

What did Dr. Kenneth say?



   

                   

Twenty Iumps of sugar in a gIass--

No. I'll go and ask Ellen.



   

                   

Yes. Go and ask Ellen.



   

                   

She's such a darling.

But you've all been so nice to me.



   

                   

That's all I think about,

how nice you are to me.



   

                   

But still, I can't stay here forever.



   

                   

Why not, Cathy...



   

                   

if I can make you happy?



   

                   

You have made me happy, Edgar.



   

                   

You've given me so much

of your own seIf, your strength.



   

                   

Darling, Iet me take care of you

forever.



   

                   

Let me guard you

and Iove you aIways.



   

                   

WouId you Iove me aIways?



   

                   

Yes.



   

                   

It's so easy to Iove you.



   

                   

Because I'm no Ionger wild and

bIackhearted and full of gypsy ways?



   

                   

- No. I--

- Of course you were right, Edgar.



   

                   

What you said Iong ago was true.



   

                   

There was a strange curse on me.



   

                   

Something that kept me

from being myseIf.



   

                   

Or at Ieast from being

what I wanted to be--



   

                   

living in heaven.



   

                   

How sweet you are.



   

                   

I've never kissed you.



   

                   

No one will ever kiss me again but you.



   

                   

No one.



   

                   

I'll be your wife and be proud

of being your wife.



   

                   

I'll be good to you

and Iove you truLy, aIways.



   

                   

White heather for good Iuck,

Miss Catherine.



   

                   

Come aIong, Cathy.



   

                   

What is it?



   

                   

A coId wind went across

my heart just then--



   

                   

a feeling of doom.



   

                   

You touched me,

and it was gone.



   

                   

Oh, it's nothing, darling,

I'm sure.



   

                   

Oh, Edgar, I Iove you. I do.



   

                   

Good-bye.



   

                   

And I, too, feIt a coId wind across

my heart as they rode away together.



   

                   

And I, too, feIt a coId wind across

my heart as they rode away together.



   

                   

But as the years went on,

they were really in possession...



   

                   

of a deep and growing happiness.



   

                   

I wish you couId've

seen Miss Cathy then.



   

                   

She became quite the Iady of the manor

and was aImost overfond of Mr. Linton.



   

                   

For Isabella, she showed

great affection...



   

                   

and presided over Thrushcross Grange...



   

                   

with quiet dignity.



   

                   

It Iooks as though you've fallen

into a trap, Father.



   

                   

Yes, it does, doesn't it?



   

                   

There you are.



   

                   

Checkmate.



   

                   

- Thank you, Father.

- Well, I'll go and dress for dinner.



   

                   

What's wrong with the dogs?



   

                   

ProbabLy a servant

coming back from the village.



   

                   

I taIked to Jeff Peters this afternoon

about that new wing of ours.



   

                   

It doesn't Iook as though we'll

marry Isabella off for another decade.



   

                   

It's a brother's duty to introduce

your sister to some other type...



   

                   

than fops and paIe young poets.



   

                   

- You want a dragoon?

- Yes, I do. With a fiery mustache.



   

                   

Poor Isabella. I'm afraid I got

the onLy prize in the county.



   

                   

Thank you, darling.

For me, heaven is bounded...



   

                   

by the four walls of this room.



   

                   

Yes, we're all angeIs,

even my littIe petit point hero.



   

                   

I'm just putting wings on him.



   

                   

Speaking of wings,

I'll show you those pIans.



   

                   

- Miss Cathy?

- What is it?



   

                   

Someone wishes to see you.



   

                   

- You sound as if it were a ghost.

- It is. He's come back.



   

                   

Who?



   

                   

- What does he want?

- He wants to see you.



   

                   

Tell him-- Tell him

I'm not at home.



   

                   

Not at home, Cathy?

To whom are you not at home?



   

                   

It's Heathcliff.



   

                   

Seems he's come back.



   

                   

Well, that's news.

Where has he been?



   

                   

America, he said. He's so changed

I hardLy recognized him.



   

                   

- For the better, I hope.

- Oh, yes. He's quite the gentIemen.



   

                   

- Fine cIothes, a horse.

- Go tell him I don't wish to see him.



   

                   

Oh, nonsense, Cathy.

We can't be as crueI as that.



   

                   

He's come a Iong way, and he's

a fine gentIeman, so Ellen says.



   

                   

Let's see how America's managed to make

a silk purse out of Master Heathcliff.



   

                   

- Show him in.

- Yes, Master Edgar.



   

                   

It's chilly.



   

                   

Why be nervous?

The past is dead.



   

                   

It's nonsense to trembIe before

a littIe ghost who returns--



   

                   

a dead Ieaf bIowing

around your feet.



   

                   

Darling...



   

                   

you may smile at him without fear

of offending me.



   

                   

It's my wife who smiles--



   

                   

my wife who Ioves me.



   

                   

Yes.



   

                   

I was silly.



   

                   

Thank you, Edgar.



   

                   

Well, Heathcliff.



   

                   

- Mr. Linton.

- How are you?



   

                   

Hello, Cathy.



   

                   

- I remember this room.

- Come in. Sit by the fire.



   

                   

Have a whiskey?



   

                   

No, thank you.



   

                   

I've never seen such a change in a man.

I wouIdn't have known you.



   

                   

You seem to have prospered

since our Iast meeting.



   

                   

Somewhat.



   

                   

Ellen said you'd been

to America.



   

                   

Yes.



   

                   

We all wondered where you went.



   

                   

Have you met my sister, Miss Linton?



   

                   

What brought about

this amazing transformation?



   

                   

Did you discover a goId mine

in the New WorId...



   

                   

or inherit a fortune?



   

                   

The truth is, I remembered that

my father was an emperor of China...



   

                   

and my mother

was an Indian queen...



   

                   

and I went out

and cIaimed my inheritance.



   

                   

It all turned out

just as you once suspected, Cathy...



   

                   

that I had been kidnapped by

wicked sailors and brought to EngIand.



   

                   

That I was of nobIe birth.



   

                   

Are you visiting here Iong?



   

                   

I mean, in the village?



   

                   

The rest of my life.



   

                   

I've just bought Wuthering Heights--



   

                   

the house, the stock

and the moors.



   

                   

HindIey has soId you

the estate?



   

                   

He's not aware of it as yet.



   

                   

I'm afraid it'll be somewhat

of a surprise when he finds...



   

                   

his gambling debts and liquor bills

paid off by his former stabIe boy.



   

                   

Perhaps he will mereLy Iaugh

at the irony of it.



   

                   

I don't understand

how this couId've happened...



   

                   

without Mrs. Linton

hearing of it.



   

                   

Modesty compelled me to pIay

the Good Samaritan in secret.



   

                   

By heaven. This is the most underhanded

piece of work I've ever heard of.



   

                   

If I'd onLy known. I knew HindIey

had financiaI difficuIties...



   

                   

but not that his property was being

stoIen from him by a stranger.



   

                   

I'm neither thief nor stranger.

MereLy your neighbor, sir.



   

                   

- Now I'll say good night.

- Wait, Heathcliff.



   

                   

Edgar and I have many neighbors whom we

receive with hospitality and friendship.



   

                   

If you are to be one of them,

you're weIcome to visit our house...



   

                   

but not with a scowI on your face

or an oId bitterness in your heart.



   

                   

Thank you.



   

                   

It occurs to me that I have not

congratuIated you on your marriage.



   

                   

I've often thought of it.



   

                   

Allow me to express my delight

over your happiness now.



   

                   

Good night.



   

                   

- I think you behaved abominabLy.

- What?



   

                   

You, too, Cathy. I'm dreadfully

disappointed in both of you.



   

                   

- What are you taIking about?

- You couId have been civil to him.



   

                   

I conducted myseIf perfectLy,

and so did Cathy.



   

                   

- You dismissed him like a servant.

- And you thought him otherwise?



   

                   

- I thought him distinguished.

- I hope I misunderstood you.



   

                   

It's impossibIe my sister

couId think of Heathcliff...



   

                   

as anything but a surLy,

dressed-up beggar, a Iout and a boor.



   

                   

I shall make sure

that you never see him again.



   

                   

Now go to dinner.



   

                   

Joseph.



   

                   

Yes, Master HindIey?



   

                   

- Where's the key?

- Is it in the door?



   

                   

No, and I want it. He's Ieft, and it's

our chance. I'll Iock him out this time.



   

                   

If he tries to get in,

I'll kill him.



   

                   

Find that key,

and bring me a bottIe of wine.



   

                   

- You've had a bad night.

- A bad night, you call it?



   

                   

How can I stay sober

with that vuIture's beak inside me?



   

                   

He stabbed me in the dark.

He robbed me of my home and goId.



   

                   

- Where's the wine?

- Dr. Kenneth has forbid it.



   

                   

- BIast Dr. Kenneth!

- Get him what he wants.



   

                   

Dr. Kenneth has forbid it.



   

                   

What difference to the worId

whether he's drunk or sober?



   

                   

Or to Dr. Kenneth?

Do as I tell you.



   

                   

Get out.



   

                   

It's too earLy in the morning

to Iook on the devil.



   

                   

Your ingratitude

makes me aImost sad.



   

                   

All I have done to you

is to enabIe you to be yourseIf.



   

                   

My money has heIped you drink and gambIe

and enjoy the worId as you wished.



   

                   

Now that you're without a home

I remember that you gave me...



   

                   

a pIace to sIeep

when you might've turned me out.



   

                   

I allow you to remain...



   

                   

and even provide you

with soIace...



   

                   

against the doctor's orders.



   

                   

I'll have Wuthering Heights back.



   

                   

I'll be master here, and I'll turn you

out as I shouId have done years ago.



   

                   

We're just in time, Joseph.



   

                   

Mr. HindIey is beginning

to whine and stutter.



   

                   

He needs fire in his veins--



   

                   

a littIe courage with which to face

his unhappy life.



   

                   

I'll have my goId, and I'll have

your bIood, and hell can have your souI!



   

                   

Laugh now, Heathcliff.



   

                   

There's no Iaughter in hell.



   

                   

All you have to do is to shoot.



   

                   

They'll thank me for it.



   

                   

The worId will say I did right

ridding it of a rotten gypsy beggar!



   

                   

Yes! They'll say that.



   

                   

Shoot, and you'll

be master here again.



   

                   

The whoIe county will resound

with your courage.



   

                   

Go on, shoot,

you puling chicken of a man...



   

                   

with not enough bIood in you

to keep your hand steady!



   

                   

You remember that time

you hit me with a rock?



   

                   

The times you shamed and fIogged me

as your stabIe boy?



   

                   

You were a coward then,

and you're a coward now.



   

                   

Take him out.

Find somepIace for him to sIeep.



   

                   

Aye. I'll put him to bed.



   

                   

Not in the master's room.



   

                   

I'm master here now.



   

                   

- His pistoI.

- Aye. I'll hide it.



   

                   

A gentIeman must not be deprived

of his weapons.



   

                   

I prefer that he have it by him aIways

as a reminder of his cowardice.



   

                   

- Master Heathcliff.

- What is it?



   

                   

- A Iady to see you.

- A Iady? From where?



   

                   

The Grange, sir.



   

                   

The Grange?

Why didn't you tell me?



   

                   

Out of my way.



   

                   

I hope I'm not disturbing you.



   

                   

Not at all.



   

                   

I was riding behind the Heights

on the moors, and my horse went Iame.



   

                   

- And you brought him here.

- Yes.



   

                   

That was very wise.



   

                   

Shall we Iook at the animaI?



   

                   

That isn't necessary.

I've put him in the stabIes.



   

                   

He's being taken care of.



   

                   

I see.



   

                   

Won't you come in?



   

                   

Get on with your work.



   

                   

I was furious with my brother,

and Cathy too. I toId them so.



   

                   

I thought they acted

most shamefully.



   

                   

Let me give you a chair.



   

                   

Your brother didn't send you

with these apoIogies?



   

                   

Oh, no. He's forbidden me to--



   

                   

To speak to me?



   

                   

Yes.



   

                   

And Mrs. Linton?



   

                   

She's aIso very angry with you.



   

                   

So in all the county

you are my onLy friend.



   

                   

I wouId like to be.



   

                   

Well, Iet us ceIebrate our new

friendship by a gallop over the moors.



   

                   

Oh, but my horse is Iame.



   

                   

My dear, your horse is not Iame,

and it never was.



   

                   

You came to see me because

you are IoneLy...



   

                   

because it is IoneLy

sitting like an outsider...



   

                   

in so happy a house

as your brother's--



   

                   

IoneLy riding on the moors

with no one at your side.



   

                   

You won't be IoneLy anymore.



   

                   

Good evening, sir.



   

                   

Good evening, Ellen.



   

                   

I was afraid you wouIdn't come. Tonight

wouId've been ruined if you hadn't.



   

                   

Good heavens.

Is that Heathcliff?



   

                   

Yes, it is.



   

                   

I can't believe it.

Cathy having him here--



   

                   

Not Cathy. It's my sister.



   

                   

It's just a young girI's fancy,

but one must not infIame it...



   

                   

with too much opposition, but Iet it

spend itseIf harmIessLy in a few dances.



   

                   

Madam Eilers is going to pIay

the harpsichord. Come and sit down.



   

                   

I shall Iet you hoId my hand

underneath my fan.



   

                   

Thank you very much.



   

                   

Oh, it's a waItz.

Heathcliff, will you?



   

                   

You see, we can hoId each other,

and no one can object...



   

                   

because that's the way

it's danced.



   

                   

That's the way gypsies dance.



   

                   

I'm surprised to see such abandoned ways

creep into so fine a house.



   

                   

Father used to say it'd undermine

the whoIe of society...



   

                   

and turn us into profligates.



   

                   

- May I have the pIeasure?

- Thank you, but I don't think I can.



   

                   

Nonsense. Let me see you waItz.



   

                   

- Will you watch me?

- Of course.



   

                   

I'm ready.



   

                   

You're not dancing this dance.



   

                   

Thank you. I'm nearLy exhausted.



   

                   

Will the moonlight

and a breath of air refresh you?



   

                   

AIways.



   

                   

Excuse me, pIease.



   

                   

Are you enjoying yourseIf,

Heathcliff?



   

                   

I've had the pIeasure

of watching you.



   

                   

You're very grand, Heathcliff.

So handsome.



   

                   

Looking at you tonight I couId not heIp

but remember how things used to be.



   

                   

They used to be better.



   

                   

Don't pretend life hasn't improved

for you.



   

                   

Life has ended for me.



   

                   

How can you stand here beside me

and pretend not to remember?



   

                   

Not to know that my heart is breaking

for you?



   

                   

That your face is the wonderfuI light

burning in all this darkness?



   

                   

Heathcliff, no.

I forbid it.



   

                   

You forbid what your heart says?



   

                   

- It's saying nothing.

- I can hear it Iouder than the music.



   

                   

Oh, Cathy.



   

                   

I'm not the Cathy that was.

Can't you understand?



   

                   

I'm somebody eIse. I'm another man's

wife, and he Ioves me. And I Iove him.



   

                   

If he Ioved you with

all his souI for a lifetime...



   

                   

he couIdn't Iove you as much

as I do in a singIe day.



   

                   

Not he. Not the worId.



   

                   

Not even you, Cathy,

can come between us.



   

                   

You must go away. You must Ieave

this house and never come back.



   

                   

I never want to see your face again

as Iong as I live.



   

                   

You lie.



   

                   

Why do you think I'm here tonight?



   

                   

Because you willed it.

You willed me here across the sea.



   

                   

Cathy, have you seen Heathcliff?

Oh, there you are.



   

                   

They're going to pIay a schottische.

Come aIong.



   

                   

It's quite suitabIe

to your high moraI character.



   

                   

What's the matter? Has Cathy been

behaving horribLy again?



   

                   

If she weren't my sister-in-Iaw,

I'd say she was jeaIous.



   

                   

Come aIong.



   

                   

Come in.



   

                   

- I want to taIk to you.

- What about, Cathy?



   

                   

- About Heathcliff.

- It's very Iate.



   

                   

I have no desire

to discuss Heathcliff with you anyway.



   

                   

- You behaved disgracefully tonight.

- In what way?



   

                   

It was bad enough your asking him here,

but to make a spectacIe of yourseIf.



   

                   

Catherine, be carefuI of what you say.



   

                   

You fooI. You vain littIe fooI.



   

                   

I'll not be silent any Ionger.

I'm going to tell the truth.



   

                   

- Let me go.

- Not till I open your eyes.



   

                   

My eyes are quite open, thank you.



   

                   

Don't you see what he's doing?

He's using you to be near me...



   

                   

to smile at me behind your back...



   

                   

to try to rouse something

in my heart that's dead.



   

                   

I'll not have it.

I'll not allow you to heIp him.



   

                   

It's you who are vain

and insufferabIe.



   

                   

- Heathcliff Ioves me.

- It's a lie.



   

                   

It's not a lie. He's toId me so.

He's kissed me.



   

                   

He's heId me in his arms.

He's toId me that he Ioves me.



   

                   

- I'm going to your brother.

- Go! He's asked me to marry him.



   

                   

We're going to be married.



   

                   

Heathcliff's going to be my husband.



   

                   

You can't.

Heathcliff's not a man...



   

                   

but something dark and horribIe

to live with.



   

                   

Do you imagine that I don't know

why you're acting so?



   

                   

Because you Iove him.



   

                   

Yes! You Iove him! And you're mad with

pain at the thought of my marrying him.



   

                   

You want him

to pine and dream of you...



   

                   

die for you, while you live in comfort

as Mrs. Linton.



   

                   

You don't want him to be happy.



   

                   

You want to make him suffer.

You want to destroy him!



   

                   

But I want to make him happy,

and I will!



   

                   

I heard your voices.



   

                   

We were just discussing the ball.



   

                   

There's pIenty of time

for gossip tomorrow.



   

                   

You ought to come to bed, darling.

You Iook tired.



   

                   

Good night.



   

                   

- Good morning, Joseph.

- Mistress Cathy, I mean.



   

                   

Mr. HindIey's away.



   

                   

It's Mr. Heathcliff I wish to see.



   

                   

Oh.



   

                   

Oh, aye.



   

                   

I'll try and find him.



   

                   

Leave us, Joseph.



   

                   

What brings you to Wuthering Heights?



   

                   

Does Edgar know?

I doubt he'd approve.



   

                   

Heathcliff, is it true?



   

                   

- Is what true?

- That you asked Isabella to marry you.



   

                   

It is true then.

Oh, Heathcliff, you must not do this.



   

                   

She hasn't harmed you.



   

                   

- You have.

- Then punish me!



   

                   

I'm going to,

when I take her in my arms--



   

                   

when I promise her life and happiness.



   

                   

If there's anything human Ieft in you,

don't do this.



   

                   

Don't make me a partner to such a crime.

It's stupid. It's mad.



   

                   

If you ever Iooked at me

with what is in you, I'd be your sIave.



   

                   

If your heart were stronger than

your fear of God and the worId...



   

                   

I wouId live silentLy contented

in your shadow.



   

                   

But no.



   

                   

You must destroy us both

with that weakness you call virtue.



   

                   

You must keep me tormented

with that crueIty you think so pious.



   

                   

You've been smug and pIeased with

my vile Iove of you, haven't you?



   

                   

After this, you won't think of me as

Cathy's foolish and despairing Iover.



   

                   

You'll think of me

as Isabella's husband...



   

                   

and be gIad for my happiness...



   

                   

as I was for yours.



   

                   

- Drive to the village. Get Mr. Linton.

- Very well, ma'am.



   

                   

Marry? It's preposterous.

Isabella and Heathcliff?



   

                   

It's true.

What will you do about it?



   

                   

Do? I'll put her under Iock and key

if need be.



   

                   

- We must go after them.

- Going after them is useIess.



   

                   

We must go after them while there's

still time. They mustn't marry.



   

                   

Don't disturb yourseIf.

There's nothing I can do.



   

                   

But you must, Edgar.

Get your pistoIs.



   

                   

Go after them. Kill him!



   

                   

But stop them from marrying.



   

                   

This marriage cannot be, do you hear?

It must--



   

                   

And so Heathcliff and Isabella

were married.



   

                   

Many months Iater

at Wuthering Heights...



   

                   

during one of Dr. Kenneth's

increasingLy rare visits--



   

                   

Why don't you hit yourseIf

over the head with a hammer...



   

                   

the instant you get up

in the morning?



   

                   

- Why?

- If you hit yourseIf hard enough...



   

                   

you'll remain unconscious the whoIe day

and achieve the same resuIts...



   

                   

you wouId from

a whoIe gallon of spirits...



   

                   

with much Iess wear and tear

on the kidneys.



   

                   

Don't you agree with me,

Mrs. Heathcliff?



   

                   

What does it matter?



   

                   

Well, I'd hoped that it did matter...



   

                   

that when you came here,

things wouId change.



   

                   

OnLy I changed.



   

                   

I remember this house when it rang

with Iaughter and Iove. Good-bye.



   

                   

Ask your husband to call

another doctor in future.



   

                   

Whoever dwells in this house

is beyond my healing arts.



   

                   

I shall miss you, Dr. Kenneth.



   

                   

I brought you into the worId...



   

                   

but it's a worId you're not going

to grace very Iong if you stay here.



   

                   

Dear child, I must tell you this.



   

                   

Go back where you beIong,

back with Edgar for a month or two.



   

                   

It wouId mean your saIvation,

and his.



   

                   

Edgar's disowned me.



   

                   

Nonsense. That was naturaI under

the circumstances, but he needs you now.



   

                   

He does. Why?



   

                   

Cathy is graveLy ill.



   

                   

In fact, it's onLy a matter

of days.



   

                   

Hours, perhaps.



   

                   

What is it?



   

                   

Fever.

InfIammation of the Iungs.



   

                   

But there's something beyond that.

I don't know. I'd call it a will to die.



   

                   

If Cathy died...



   

                   

I might begin to live.



   

                   

Begin to live, eh?



   

                   

In this house with Heathcliff,

nothing can live.



   

                   

Nothing but hate. It's breathing

like the devil's own breath on me.



   

                   

And you, he hates you worse

than he does me. He Ioathes you.



   

                   

Each time you kiss him his heart breaks

with rage because it's not Cathy.



   

                   

- Kill him.

- I forbade you to speak about him.



   

                   

- Stop it, you hear me?

- Kill him!



   

                   

That's the first Iucid taIk I've heard

out of HindIey for weeks.



   

                   

It's not very Christian taIk,

but it's coherent.



   

                   

Seemed to make some points.



   

                   

- I'm delighted with your improvement.

- I tried to stop him.



   

                   

Thank you, my dear wife.

Your IoyaIty is touching.



   

                   

Your curses will come home

to feed on your own heart.



   

                   

Every agony you've given

will return.



   

                   

Why do we have him here?



   

                   

I can't breathe with him in the house.



   

                   

Existence wouId be so much Iess without

my boyhood friend under my roof.



   

                   

Don't you see?



   

                   

You poison yourseIf with hating him.



   

                   

Darling, pIease send him away

and Iet Iove come into the house.



   

                   

Why isn't there the smell of heather

in your hair?



   

                   

Why won't you Iet me come near you?



   

                   

You're not bIack and horribIe as they

all think. You're full of pain.



   

                   

I can make you happy. Let me try.

You won't regret it. I'll be your sIave.



   

                   

I can bring life back to you,

new and fresh.



   

                   

Why are your eyes aIways empty...



   

                   

like Linton's eyes?



   

                   

They're not empty.



   

                   

If you'd onLy Iook deeper.



   

                   

Look at me.



   

                   

I'm pretty.



   

                   

I'm a woman, and I Iove you.



   

                   

You're all of life to me.



   

                   

Let me be a singIe breath of it

for you.



   

                   

Heathcliff, Iet your heart

Iook at me just once.



   

                   

Oh, why did God give me life?



   

                   

What is it but hunger and pain?



   

                   

What do you want, Ellen?



   

                   

What are you doing here?



   

                   

I want to speak to Miss Isabella.



   

                   

You can do so in front of me.



   

                   

Her brother has asked me

to bring her home for a visit.



   

                   

He needs you with him,

Miss Isabella.



   

                   

Why?



   

                   

Let go of me, Heathcliff.



   

                   

Cathy. She's ill.



   

                   

Yes.



   

                   

Mr. Edgar wants you to come home

at once, Miss Isabella.



   

                   

She's dying.



   

                   

You're not going.

She beIongs to Edgar if she's dying.



   

                   

Let her die where she beIongs,

in Edgar's arms.



   

                   

Let her die.



    

                   

Is that better?



    

                   

Yes.



    

                   

Isn't there a south wind?



    

                   

Isn't the snow aImost gone?



    

                   

Quite gone down here, darling.

Just a few patches Ieft.



    

                   

The sky is bIue,

and the Iarks are singing...



    

                   

and the brooks are brimming full.



    

                   

Will you get me something?



    

                   

- What do you want, darling?

- Some heather.



    

                   

There's a beautifuI patch

near the castIe.



    

                   

I want some from there.



    

                   

Near the castIe?

What castIe, darling?



    

                   

The castIe on the moors, Edgar.



    

                   

Go there, pIease.



    

                   

There's no castIe on the moors,

darling.



    

                   

There is.



    

                   

It's on the hill...



    

                   

beyond Wuthering Heights.



    

                   

- You mean Penistone Crag.

- Yes.



    

                   

I was a queen there once.



    

                   

Go there, Edgar.



    

                   

Get me some heather, pIease.



    

                   

I'll go. You sIeep while I'm gone,

and rest so you'll be better tomorrow.



    

                   

You've been very dear to me, Edgar.



    

                   

- Very dear.

- SIeep, darling.



    

                   

Robert!



    

                   

Get my horse ready.

I'm going to Dr. Kenneth. Be quick.



    

                   

Yes, sir.



    

                   

Come here.



    

                   

I was dreaming...



    

                   

you might come before I died.



    

                   

You might come

and scowI at me once more.



    

                   

Oh, Heathcliff...



    

                   

how strong you Iook.



    

                   

How many years do you mean to live

after I'm gone?



    

                   

Don't--



    

                   

Don't Iet me go.



    

                   

If I couId onLy hoId you

till we were both dead.



    

                   

Will you forget me

when I'm in the earth?



    

                   

I couId as soon forget you

as my own life.



    

                   

Cathy, if you die--



    

                   

Poor Heathcliff. Come.



    

                   

Let me feeI how strong you are.



    

                   

Strong enough to bring us both back

to life, Cathy, if you want to live.



    

                   

No, Heathcliff. I want to die.



    

                   

Oh, Cathy.



    

                   

Why did you kill yourseIf?



    

                   

HoId me.



    

                   

Just hoId me.



    

                   

No, I'll not comfort you.



    

                   

My tears don't Iove you, Cathy.

They blight and curse and damn you.



    

                   

Heathcliff,

don't break my heart.



    

                   

Oh, Cathy, I never broke your heart.

You broke it.



    

                   

You Ioved me!



    

                   

What right to throw Iove away for

the poor fancy thing you feIt for him?



    

                   

For a handfuI of worIdliness?



    

                   

Misery, death and all the evils

God and man couId've handed down...



    

                   

wouId never have parted us.



    

                   

You did that aIone.

You wandered off...



    

                   

like a wanton, greedy child...



    

                   

to break your heart and mine.



    

                   

Heathcliff, forgive me.



    

                   

We have so littIe time.



    

                   

Oh, Cathy.



    

                   

Cathy, your wasted hands.



    

                   

Kiss me again.



    

                   

Heathcliff, he's coming. Mr. Linton.

For heaven's sake, go! OnLy be quick!



    

                   

It's the Iast time.



    

                   

I won't go, Cathy. I'm here.



    

                   

I'll never Ieave you again.



    

                   

I toId you, Ellen, when he went away,

that night in the rain--



    

                   

I toId you I beIonged to him,

that he was my life, my being.



    

                   

Don't listen to her ravings.



    

                   

It's true.



    

                   

I'm yours, Heathcliff.

I've never been anyone eIse's.



    

                   

She doesn't know what she's saying.



    

                   

You can still get out.

Go before they get here.



    

                   

Take me to the window.



    

                   

Let me Iook at the moors

with you once more.



    

                   

My darling. Once more.



    

                   

How beautifuI the day is.



    

                   

Can you see the crag...



    

                   

over there

where our castIe is?



    

                   

I'll wait for you...



    

                   

till you come.



    

                   

Leave her aIone.



    

                   

She's mine.



    

                   

She's mine now.



    

                   

Miss Cathy.



    

                   

Oh, my wild heart.



    

                   

Miss Cathy.



    

                   

She's gone.



    

                   

You've done your Iast bIack deed,

Heathcliff. Leave this house.



    

                   

She's at peace,

in heaven and beyond us.



    

                   

What do they know of

heaven or hell, Cathy...



    

                   

who know nothing of life?



    

                   

Oh, they're praying for you,

Cathy.



    

                   

I'll pray one prayer with them.



    

                   

I repeat till my tongue stiffens:



    

                   

Catherine Earnshaw, may you not rest

so Iong as I live on.



    

                   

I killed you.



    

                   

Haunt me, then.

Haunt your murderer.



    

                   

I know that ghosts have wandered



    

                   

Be with me aIways.



    

                   

Take any form. Drive me mad.



    

                   

OnLy do not Ieave me in this dark aIone,

where I cannot find you.



    

                   

I cannot live without my life.



    

                   

I cannot die without my souI.



    

                   

Oh, Cathy.



    

                   

Oh, my dear.



    

                   

I can still see and hear

that wild hour...



    

                   

I can still see and hear

that wild hour...



    

                   

with poor Heathcliff trying to tear away

the veil between death and life...



    

                   

crying out to Cathy's souI...



    

                   

to haunt him and torment him...



    

                   

till he died.



    

                   

You say that was Cathy's ghost I heard

at the window?



    

                   

Not her ghost...



    

                   

but Cathy's Iove,

stronger than time itseIf...



    

                   

still sobbing

for its unlived days...



    

                   

and uneaten bread.



    

                   

- What's the matter, man?

- I've gone mad.



    

                   

- Stark raving mad.

- Dr. Kenneth.



    

                   

I saw Heathcliff out in the moors

in the snow with a woman.



    

                   

- A woman, you say?

- Yes, a woman.



    

                   

I saw her with him

pIain as my own eyes.



    

                   

It was Cathy.



    

                   

Go on, man. What happened?



    

                   

No, I don't know who it was.

I was trying to get up near to them...



    

                   

when suddenLy my horse reared

and pIunged, and I was thrown.



    

                   

I called out to them, but they didn't

hear me, so I followed them.



    

                   

I tell you I saw them both!



    

                   

He had his arm about her.



    

                   

So I climbed up after them...



    

                   

and I found him.



    

                   

OnLy him-- aIone--



    

                   

with onLy his footprints

in the snow.



    

                   

Under a high rock on a Iedge

near Penistone Crag.



    

                   

Yes.



    

                   

Was he dead?



    

                   

No, not dead, Dr. Kenneth.



    

                   

Not aIone.



    

                   

He's with her.



    

                   

They've onLy just begun to live.



    

                   

Good-bye, Heathcliff.



    

                   

Good-bye, my wild, sweet Cathy.













  

 
Special help by SergeiK