第一章
一八○一年。我刚去拜见过我的房东——就是那个将会让我吃尽苦头的孤僻邻居。这可真是个美丽的乡间啊！我相信，在整个英格兰，我再也找不到一个如此远离尘嚣的去处了。一个厌世者的理想天堂——而由希思克利夫先生和我来分享这荒凉景色，倒是非常合适的一对。多棒的家伙！我骑着马走上前时，看见他那双黑眼珠猜忌地缩在眉毛下面；等我通报姓名时，他把手指更深地藏进背心口袋里，显出一副决不掉以轻心的神气。这当儿，他全然没有想到，我心里对他萌生了几分好感。
“希思克利夫先生吗？”我问。
回答是点一下头。
“我是洛克伍德先生，你的新房客，先生——我一到达此地，就荣幸地尽快来拜见你，表达一下我的心意，希望我再三要求租下画眉田庄，没有给你带来什么不便。我昨天听说，你心里有些……”
“画眉田庄是我自己的产业，先生，”他眉头一蹙，打断了我的话。“我只要能阻止，就决不允许任何人给我带来不便——进来吧！”
这一声“进来吧！”是咬着牙说出来的，表达的是“见鬼去！”的情绪。就连他依着的那扇栅门也一动不动，没有对他的话作出反响。我想正是这个情况，促使我接受了他的邀请：我对一个似乎比我还矜持得出奇的人，发生了兴趣。
他眼看着我的马的胸脯快撞上了栅栏，便伸出手解开门链，随即气鼓鼓地领着我走上石板路，等走进院子时，就大声嚷道：
“约瑟夫，把洛克伍德先生的马牵走，再拿点酒来。”
“看来这家子就这么一个仆人啦，”听了那道双重命令，我心中暗想。“怪不得石板缝里长满了草，树篱只有靠牲口来修剪。”
约瑟夫是个上了年纪的人，简直是个老头：也许很老了，虽说人还挺壮实。
“上帝照应啊！”他从我手里接过马时，怨声怨气地低声嘟囔着；与此同时，还狠狠地瞪了我一眼，我只得好心地猜想，他一定需要上帝来帮助他消化肚子里的食物，因而他的那声虔诚的祈求，跟我的突然来访毫无关系。
呼啸山庄是希思克利夫先生的住宅名称。“呼啸”是当地一个具有特殊意义的字眼，形容这地方在狂风暴雨的天气里，大气如何喧嚣。的确，这里一年到头都流通着清新纯净的空气。人们只要看看房头几棵矮小的枞树那过度倾斜的样子，看看一排瘦削的荆棘都朝一个方向伸展枝条，仿佛在乞求太阳的施舍，便可猜想到北风吹过山巅的威力。幸而建筑师有先见之明，把房子盖得结结实实：狭窄的窗子深深地嵌在墙壁内，墙角都用凸出的大石块保护着。
跨进门槛之前，我停下脚观赏布满宅子正面，特别是大门周围的那些奇形怪状的雕刻。大门上方，我在众多残破的怪兽和不知羞的小男孩中间，发现了“一五○○”这个年份和“哈雷顿?厄恩肖”这个姓名。我本想议论几句，请求乖戾的主人讲讲这座住宅的简史，但是从他站在门口的架势看，分明是要我赶快进去，或者干脆离开，而我还没看过厅堂内室，不想惹他不耐烦。
一跨步，也没有经过什么穿堂过道，就进了家人共用的起居室。他们别出心裁地把这里称做“堂屋”。堂屋通常包括厨房和客厅，但是在呼啸山庄，我相信厨房被挤到了另一个部位：至少我听得出里边有唧唧喳喳的说话声，炊具叮叮当当的磕碰声；大壁炉那里，看不见烤炙、烧煮或烘焙的迹象，墙上也见不到有什么铜锅和锡滤器在闪闪发光。屋子的一头，在一个橡木大碗橱上，摆着一排排的白盘子，中间还点缀着一些银壶和银杯，一层层的直垒到屋顶，射出璀灿的光芒和热气。房子从未吊过顶，屋顶的整个构造光秃秃的，一目了然，只有一处，被摆满燕麦饼、牛腿、羊肉和火腿的木架遮掩住了。壁炉上方，挂着几支蹩脚的杂式老枪，还有两支马枪，而为装饰起见，壁炉台上一溜儿摆着三只漆得光彩斑斓的茶叶罐。地面铺着光滑的白石板；椅子都是高背式的，结构简陋，漆成绿色；有一两把笨重的黑椅子躲在暗处。在碗橱底下的圆拱里，躺着一条巨大的酱色的母猎狗，身边围着一窝唧唧哇哇的狗崽子，还有几条狗待在别的暗角里。
这屋子和陈设若是属于一个普通的北方农民，倒也没有什么稀奇的。一副倔强的面孔，一双粗壮的腿，如果穿上齐膝短裤，打上绑腿，那会显得越发精神。你若是饭后选准时间，在这群山之间随便转悠五六英里，就会看见这样一个人，坐在扶手椅里，面前的圆桌上放着一大杯冒着泡沫的麦芽酒。但是，希思克利夫与他的住宅和生活方式，形成了奇异的对照。从外貌上看，他是个皮肤黝黑的吉卜赛人，可是从衣着举止上看，他又是个绅士——也就是说，像许多乡绅那样的绅士：也许有点邋里邋遢，但是他的不修边幅看上去并不有失雅观，因为他体态挺拔英俊——还有些乖僻——有人可能怀疑他因为缺乏教养，而带有几分傲慢——一种心灵上的共鸣告诉我，并非这么回事；我凭直觉得知，他的冷淡是由于厌恶炫耀感情——厌恶人们彼此表示亲热造成的。他不管爱谁恨谁，都隐藏在心底，而把再受到别人的爱或恨视为很不体面的事——不行，我滔滔不绝地讲得太快了：我过于慷慨了，把自己的特性加到了他身上。希思克利夫先生跟我一样，遇到愿意交好的人，就把手藏起来，但是动机却跟我截然不同。但愿我的气质有些特别吧：我亲爱的母亲过去常说，我一辈子也休想有一个舒适的家，直到今年夏天，我才证实自己根本不配有那样一个家。
当时，我在天朗气清的海滨消夏一个月，偶然结识了一个极其迷人的姑娘：她还没有留意我的时候，在我眼里真是个绝代佳人。我“从未诉说过我的爱情”
；不过，如果眉眼也能传情的话，即便是最蠢的傻瓜也看得出，我给搞得神魂颠倒：后来她明白了我的情意，向我回送了一个秋波——人们想象得到的最甜蜜的秋波——我怎么样呢？说起来真丢脸——我像个蜗牛似的，冷冰冰地缩回去了；她每瞅我一眼，我就变得越冷漠，缩得越远；直到最后，那可怜的天真姑娘怀疑起自己的神志来，自以为搞错了，落得窘迫不堪，劝说母亲带她溜走了。
就是由于这古怪的脾性，我得了个冷酷无情的名声。多么冤枉啊，只有我心里明白。
我在壁炉边的一把椅子上坐下来，房东朝对面的那一把走去。为了填补那沉默的间隙，我伸手想去摸摸那条母狗。这条狗离开了它那一窝小宝贝，饿狼似的溜到我的腿肚子后面，撅起嘴唇，白牙齿上淌着口水，就想咬我一口。
我抚摸了一下，惹得它从喉头发出了一声长吠。
Wuthering Heights
1801. —I have just returned from a visit to my landlord — the
solitary neighbour that I shall be troubled with. This is certainly
a beautiful country! In all England, I do not believe that I could
have fixed one situation so completely removed from the stir of
society. A perfect misanthropist’s heaven: and Mr Heathcliff and I
are such a suitable pair to divide the desolation between us. A
capital fellow! He little imagined how my heart warmed towards him
when I beheld his black eyes withdraw so suspiciously under their
brows, as I rode up, and when his fingers sheltered themselves,
with a jealous resolution, still further in his waistcoat, as I
announced my name.
‘Mr Heathcliff!’ I said.
A nod was the answer.
‘Mr Lockwood, your new tenant, sir. I do myself the honor of
calling as soon as possible after my arrival, to express the hope
that have not inconvenienced you by my perseverance in soliciting
the occupation of Thrush cross Grange: I heard yesterday you had
handsome thoughts — ’
‘Thrush cross Grange is my own, sir, ’ he interrupted, wincing. ‘I
should not allow anyone to inconvenience me, if I could hinder it —
walking!’
The ‘walk in’ was uttered with closed teeth, and expressed the
sentiment, ‘Go to the deuce’: even the gate over which he leant
manifested no sympathizing movement to the words; and I think that
circumstance determined me to accept the invitation: I felt
interested in a man who seemed more exaggeratedly reserved than
myself.
When he saw my horse’s breast fairly pushing the barrier, he did
put out his hand to unchain it, and then sullenly preceded me up
the causeway, calling, as we entered the court — ‘Joseph, take
Rockwood’s horse; and bring up some wine. ’
‘Here we have the whole establishment of domestics, I suppose, ’was
the ref lection suggested by this compound order. ‘No wonder the
grass grows up between the flags, and cattle are the only hedge
cutters.’
Joseph was an elderly, nay, an old man: very old, perhaps, though
hale and sinewy. ‘The Lord help us!’ he soliloquized in an
undertone of peevish displeasure, while relieving me of my horse:
looking, meantime, in my face so sourly that I charitably
conjectured he must have need of divine aid to digest his dinner,
and his pious ejaculation had no reference to my unexpected
advent.
Wuthering Heights is the name of Mr Heathcliff ’s dwelling.’
Wuthering’ being a significant provincial adjective, descriptive of
the atmospheric tumult to which its station is exposed in stormy
weather. Pure, bracing ventilation they must have up there at all
times, indeed; one may guess the power of the north wind blowing
over the edge, byte excessive slant of a few stunted firs at the
end of the house; and by a range of gaunt thorns all stretching
their limbs one way, as if craving alms of the sun. Happily, the
architect had foresight to build it strong: the narrow windows are
deeply set in the wall, and the corners defended with large,
jutting stones.
Before passing the threshold, I paused to admire a quantity of
grotesque carving lavished over the front, and especially about the
principal door; above which, among a wilderness of crumbling
griffins and shameless little boys, I detected the date ‘1500’, and
the name ‘Harleton Earns haw’. I would have made a few comments,
and requested a short history of the place from the surly owner;
but his attitude at the door appeared to demand my speedy entrance,
or complete departure, and I had no desire to aggravate his
impatience previous to inspecting the penetration.
One step brought us into the family sitting-room, without any
introductory lobby or passage: they call it here ‘the house’
preeminently. It includes kitchen and parlor, generally; but I
believe at Wuthering Heights the kitchen is forced to retreat
altogether into another quarter: at least I distinguished a chatter
of tongues, and clatter of culinary utensils, deep within; and I
observed no signs of roasting, boiling, or baking, about the huge
fireplace; nor any glitter of copper saucepans and tin cull enders
on the walls. One end, indeed, reflected splendidly both light and
heat from ranks of immense pewter dishes, interspersed with silver
jugs and tankards, towering row after row, on a vast oak dresser,
to the very roof. The latter had never been under drawn: its entire
anatomy lay bare to an inquiring eye, except where a frame of wood
laden with oatcakes and clusters of legs of beef, mutton, and ham,
concealed it. Above the chimney were sundry villainous old guns,
and a couple of horse-pistols: and, by way of ornament, three
gaudily painted canisters disposed along it sledge. The floor was
of smooth, white stone; the chairs, high-backed, primitive
structures, painted green: one or two heavy black ones lurking in
the shade. In an arch under the dresser, reposed a huge,
liver-coloured bitch pointer, surrounded by a swarm of squealing
puppies; and other dogs haunted other recesses.
The apartment and furniture would have been nothing extraordinary
as belonging to a homely, northern farmer, with stubborn
countenance, and stalwart limbs set out to advantage in knee
breeches and gaiters. Such an individual seated in his armchair,
his mug of ale frothing on the round table before him, is to be
seen in any circuit of five or six miles among these hills, if you
go at the right time after dinner. But Mr Heathcliff forms a
singular contrast to his abode and style of living. He is a
dark-skinned gipsy in aspect, in dress and manners a gentleman:
that is, as much a gentleman as many a country squire: rather
slovenly, perhaps, yet not looking amiss with his negligence,
because he has an erect and handsome figure; and rather morose.
Possibly, some people might suspect him of degree of underbred
pride; I have a sympathetic chord within that tells me it is
nothing of the sort: I know, by instinct, his reserve springs from
an aversion to showy displays of feeling — to manifestations of
mutual kindliness. He’ll love and hate equally under cover, and
esteem it a species of impertinence to be loved or hated again. No,
I’m running on too fast: I bestow my own attributes over liberally
on him. Mr Heathcliff may have entirely dissimilar reasons for
keeping his hand out of the way when he meets a would-be
acquaintance, to those which actuate me. Let me hope my
constitution is almost peculiar: my dear mother used to say I
should never have a comfortable home; and only last summer I proved
myself perfectly unworthy of one.
While enjoying a month of fine weather at the sea coast, I was
thrown into the company of a most fascinating creature: a real
goddess in my eyes, as long as she took no notice of me. I ‘never
told my love’ vocally; still, if looks have language, the merest
idiot might have guessed I was over head and ears: she understood
me at last, and looked a return — the sweetest of all imaginable
looks. And what did I do? I confess it with shame — shrank icily
into myself, like a snail; at every glance retired colder and
farther; till finally the poor innocent was led to doubt her own
senses, and, overwhelmed with confusion at her supposed mistake,
persuaded her mamma to decamp. By this curious turn of disposition
I have gained the reputation of deliberate heartlessness; how
undeserved, I alone can appreciate.
I took a seat at the end of the hearthstone opposite that towards
which my landlord advanced, and filled up an interval of silence by
attempting to caress the canine mother, who had left her nursery,
and was sneaking wolfishly to the back of my legs, her lip curled
upland her white teeth watering for a snatch. My caress provoked a
long, guttural snarl.
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