Let's listen to the moody, broody Heathcliff's monologue.
Cathy! How could you do this? You love me, I know you love me! We’ve loved each other since we were children. How could you desert me now? How could you give yourself to another man, if man indeed he is.
I see you now as I watch from my cold glass window. I see you and that loathsome crowd as you leave the house for the chapel. I’ll ignore their simpering ways. I’ll ignore how they press against you, touching your white cape and your beautiful hair. My eyes are for you alone.
Do you love me?
I remember our days, carefree and wild, running on the moors like lambs in the springtime. How soft the grasses were as we collapsed in a heap of tangled arms and legs. How sweet the flowers were as I crushed you to myself, covering you with my cloak. How tender your body felt, as I caressed you through your soft gown. Oh Cathy! You did love me! Why couldn’t you wait?
I was penniless, a nobody. Well, I’ve made my fortune. I’ve come back for you, but too late! Was that dirty, ragged, black-haired gypsy not enough for you? Did you need the handsome, rich Mr Edgar Linton after all?
Cathy, you never loved me. To you I was just a wild child, someone to tame. After that visit to the Linton’s, you changed. You wanted the refined life, a life of silk frocks and fancy dinners. Not the life you’d have with Heathcliff, your savage!
Don’t think marrying Linton is the end of our story, Cathy.
I’ll be back to claim what is rightfully mine. You’re part of me. We’ll never be parted. Never!
You love me, not Edgar Linton!
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