'No, you have not,' said the infatuated girl. 'I love him more
than ever you loved Edgar, and he might love me, if you would let
him!'
'I wouldn't be you for a kingdom, then!' Catherine declared,
emphatically: and she seemed to speak sincerely. 'Nelly, help me
to convince her of her madness. Tell her what Heathcliff is: an
unreclaimed creature, without refinement, without cultivation; an
arid wilderness of furze and whinstone. I'd as soon put that
little canary into the park on a winter's day, as recommend you to
bestow your heart on him! It is deplorable ignorance of his
character, child, and nothing else, which makes that dream enter
your head. Pray, don't imagine that he conceals depths of
benevolence and affection beneath a stern exterior! He's not a
rough diamond - a pearl-containing oyster of a rustic: he's a
fierce, pitiless, wolfish man. I never say to him, "Let this or
that enemy alone, because it would be ungenerous or cruel to harm
them;" I say, "Let them alone, because I should hate them to be
wronged:" and he'd crush you like a sparrow's egg, Isabella, if he
found you a troublesome charge. I know he couldn't love a Linton;
and yet he'd be quite capable of marrying your fortune and
expectations: avarice is growing with him a besetting sin.
There's my picture: and I'm his friend - so much so, that had he
thought seriously to catch you, I should, perhaps, have held my
tongue, and let you fall into his trap.'
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