Читать книгу Wuthering Heights / Грозовой перевал. Уровень 3 - Эмили Бронте, Эмили Бронте - Страница 6

In the course of time Mr. Earnshaw began to fail. He was active and healthy, yet his strength left him suddenly. When he had to always stay indoors by the fire he became irritable, especially if anyone attempted to domineer over his favourite.

At last, our curate advised to send Hindley to college; and Mr. Earnshaw agreed, though with a heavy spirit, for he said his son wasn't able enough.

I hoped heartily to have peace now. We might live tolerably, but for two people – Miss Cathy, and Joseph, the servant: you saw him, I think. He is the most wearisome selfrighteous Pharisee, but he made a great impression on Mr. Earnshaw. The more feeble the master became, the more influence he gained. He was relentless in worrying him about his soul's concerns, and about ruling his children rigidly. He encouraged him to regard Hindley as a reprobate; and, night after night, he told tales against Heathcliff and Catherine.

Cathy was wild and wicked – but she had the bonniest eye, the sweetest smile, and lightest foot in the parish: and, after all, I believe she meant no harm. She was much too fond of Heathcliff. The greatest punishment we could invent for her was to keep her separate from him. She had no idea why her father was so cross, either. His peevish reproofs wakened in her a naughty delight to provoke him. She was never so happy as when we were all scolding her at once, and she defying us with her bold, saucy look, and her ready words. She was turning Joseph's religious curses into ridicule, and doing just what her father hated most – showing how her pretended insolence, which he thought real, had more power over Heathcliff than his kindness. But master couldn't forgive her even when she tried to be good. That made her cry, at first. Then she laughed if I told her to say she was sorry for her faults, and beg to be forgiven.

Mr. Earnshaw died quietly in his chair one October evening, seated by the fireside. Before he fell asleep, his last phrase to his daughter was,

'Why cannot you always be a good girl, Cathy?'

And she turned her face up to his, and laughed, and answered,

'Why cannot you always be a good man, father?'

But she kissed his hand, and promised to sing for him. Then I told her to hush, and we all kept as mute as mice a full half-hour. After that, the master never woke up.