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| Home | Reading Room Frankenstein


or, the Modern Prometheus
by Mary Shelley

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Chapter 23

It was eight o'clock when we landed; we walked for a short time

on the shore, enjoying the transitory light, and then retired

to the inn and contemplated the lovely scene of waters, woods,

and mountains, obscured in darkness, yet still displaying

their black outlines.

The wind, which had fallen in the south, now rose with great violence

in the west. The moon had reached her summit in the heavens

and was beginning to descend; the clouds swept across it

swifter than the flight of the vulture and dimmed her rays,

while the lake reflected the scene of the busy heavens,

rendered still busier by the restless waves that were beginning to rise.

Suddenly a heavy storm of rain descended.

I had been calm during the day, but so soon as night obscured

the shapes of objects, a thousand fears arose in my mind.

I was anxious and watchful, while my right hand grasped a pistol

which was hidden in my bosom; every sound terrified me, but I resolved

that I would sell my life dearly and not shrink from the conflict

until my own life or that of my adversary was extinguished.

Elizabeth observed my agitation for some time in timid

and fearful silence, but there was something in my glance

which communicated terror to her, and trembling, she asked,

"What is it that agitates you, my dear Victor? What is it you fear?"

"Oh! Peace, peace, my love," replied I; "this night,

and all will be safe; but this night is dreadful, very dreadful."

I passed an hour in this state of mind, when suddenly I reflected

how fearful the combat which I momentarily expected would be to my wife,

and I earnestly entreated her to retire, resolving not to join her

until I had obtained some knowledge as to the situation of my enemy.

She left me, and I continued some time walking up and down the passages

of the house and inspecting every corner that might afford a retreat

to my adversary. But I discovered no trace of him and was beginning

to conjecture that some fortunate chance had intervened

to prevent the execution of his menaces when suddenly I heard

a shrill and dreadful scream. It came from the room into which Elizabeth

had retired. As I heard it, the whole truth rushed into my mind,

my arms dropped, the motion of every muscle and fibre was suspended;

I could feel the blood trickling in my veins and tingling

in the extremities of my limbs. This state lasted but for an instant;

the scream was repeated, and I rushed into the room.

Great God! Why did I not then expire! Why am I here to relate

the destruction of the best hope and the purest creature on earth?

She was there, lifeless and inanimate, thrown across the bed,

her head hanging down and her pale and distorted features

half covered by her hair. Everywhere I turn I see the same figure--

her bloodless arms and relaxed form flung by the murderer

on its bridal bier. Could I behold this and live? Alas!

Life is obstinate and clings closest where it is most hated.

For a moment only did I lose recollection; I fell senseless on the ground.

When I recovered I found myself surrounded by the people of the inn;

their countenances expressed a breathless terror, but the horror of others

appeared only as a mockery, a shadow of the feelings that oppressed me.

I escaped from them to the room where lay the body of Elizabeth,

my love, my wife, so lately living, so dear, so worthy.

She had been moved from the posture in which I had first beheld her,

and now, as she lay, her head upon her arm and a handkerchief

thrown across her face and neck, I might have supposed her asleep.

I rushed towards her and embraced her with ardour, but the deadly languor

and coldness of the limbs told me that what I now held in my arms

had ceased to be the Elizabeth whom I had loved and cherished.

The murderous mark of the fiend's grasp was on her neck,

and the breath had ceased to issue from her lips.

While I still hung over her in the agony of despair, I happened to look up.

The windows of the room had before been darkened, and I felt a kind of panic

on seeing the pale yellow light of the moon illuminate the chamber.

The shutters had been thrown back, and with a sensation of horror

not to be described, I saw at the open window a figure the most hideous

and abhorred. A grin was on the face of the monster; he seemed to jeer,

as with his fiendish finger he pointed towards the corpse of my wife.

I rushed towards the window, and drawing a pistol from my bosom, fired;

but he eluded me, leaped from his station, and running

with the swiftness of lightning, plunged into the lake.

The report of the pistol brought a crowd into the room. I pointed

to the spot where he had disappeared, and we followed the track with boats;

nets were cast, but in vain. After passing several hours,

we returned hopeless, most of my companions believing it to have been

a form conjured up by my fancy. After having landed,

they proceeded to search the country, parties going

in different directions among the woods and vines.

I attempted to accompany them and proceeded a short distance

from the house, but my head whirled round, my steps were like those

of a drunken man, I fell at last in a state of utter exhaustion;

a film covered my eyes, and my skin was parched with the heat of fever.

In this state I was carried back and placed on a bed, hardly conscious

of what had happened; my eyes wandered round the room

as if to seek something that I had lost.

After an interval I arose, and as if by instinct, crawled into the room

where the corpse of my beloved lay. There were women weeping around;

I hung over it and joined my sad tears to theirs; all this time

no distinct idea presented itself to my mind, but my thoughts rambled

to various subjects, reflecting confusedly on my misfortunes

and their cause. I was bewildered, in a cloud of wonder and horror.

The death of William, the execution of Justine, the murder of Clerval,

and lastly of my wife; even at that moment I knew not that my only remaining

friends were safe from the malignity of the fiend; my father even now

might be writhing under his grasp, and Ernest might be dead at his feet.

This idea made me shudder and recalled me to action. I started up

and resolved to return to Geneva with all possible speed.

There were no horses to be procured, and I must return by the lake;

but the wind was unfavourable, and the rain fell in torrents.

However, it was hardly morning, and I might reasonably hope to arrive

by night. I hired men to row and took an oar myself,

for I had always experienced relief from mental torment in bodily exercise.

But the overflowing misery I now felt, and the excess of agitation

that I endured rendered me incapable of any exertion.

I threw down the oar, and leaning my head upon my hands,

gave way to every gloomy idea that arose. If I looked up,

I saw scenes which were familiar to me in my happier time

and which I had contemplated but the day before in the company of her

who was now but a shadow and a recollection. Tears streamed from my eyes.

The rain had ceased for a moment, and I saw the fish play in the waters

as they had done a few hours before; they had then been observed

by Elizabeth. Nothing is so painful to the human mind as a great

and sudden change. The sun might shine or the clouds might lower,

but nothing could appear to me as it had done the day before.

A fiend had snatched from me every hope of future happiness;

no creature had ever been so miserable as I was; so frightful an event

is single in the history of man.

But why should I dwell upon the incidents that followed

this last overwhelming event? Mine has been a tale of horrors;

I have reached their acme, and what I must now relate

can but be tedious to you. Know that, one by one, my friends

were snatched away; I was left desolate. My own strength is exhausted,

and I must tell, in a few words, what remains of my hideous narration.

I arrived at Geneva. My father and Ernest yet lived, but the former

sunk under the tidings that I bore. I see him now, excellent

and venerable old man! His eyes wandered in vacancy, for they had lost

their charm and their delight--his Elizabeth, his more than daughter,

whom he doted on with all that affection which a man feels,

who in the decline of life, having few affections, clings more earnestly

to those that remain. Cursed, cursed be the fiend that brought misery

on his grey hairs and doomed him to waste in wretchedness!

He could not live under the horrors that were accumulated around him;

the springs of existence suddenly gave way; he was unable

to rise from his bed, and in a few days he died in my arms.

What then became of me? I know not; I lost sensation,

and chains and darkness were the only objects that pressed upon me.

Sometimes, indeed, I dreamt that I wandered in flowery meadows

and pleasant vales with the friends of my youth, but I awoke

and found myself in a dungeon. Melancholy followed, but by degrees

I gained a clear conception of my miseries and situation

and was then released from my prison. For they had called me mad,

and during many months, as I understood, a solitary cell

had been my habitation.

Liberty, however, had been a useless gift to me, had I not,

as I awakened to reason, at the same time awakened to revenge.

As the memory of past misfortunes pressed upon me, I began to reflect

on their cause--the monster whom I had created, the miserable daemon

whom I had sent abroad into the world for my destruction.

I was possessed by a maddening rage when I thought of him,

and desired and ardently prayed that I might have him within my grasp

to wreak a great and signal revenge on his cursed head.

Nor did my hate long confine itself to useless wishes; I began to

reflect on the best means of securing him; and for this purpose,

about a month after my release, I repaired to a criminal judge

in the town and told him that I had an accusation to make,

that I knew the destroyer of my family, and that I required him

to exert his whole authority for the apprehension of the murderer.

The magistrate listened to me with attention and kindness.

"Be assured, sir," said he, "no pains or exertions on my part

shall be spared to discover the villain."

"I thank you," replied I; "listen, therefore, to the deposition

that I have to make. It is indeed a tale so strange that I should fear

you would not credit it were there not something in truth which,

however wonderful, forces conviction. The story is too connected

to be mistaken for a dream, and I have no motive for falsehood."

My manner as I thus addressed him was impressive but calm;

I had formed in my own heart a resolution to pursue my destroyer to death,

and this purpose quieted my agony and for an interval reconciled me to life.

I now related my history briefly but with firmness and precision,

marking the dates with accuracy and never deviating

into invective or exclamation.

The magistrate appeared at first perfectly incredulous, but as I continued

he became more attentive and interested; I saw him sometimes

shudder with horror; at others a lively surprise, unmingled with disbelief,

was painted on his countenance.

When I had concluded my narration I said, "This is the being

whom I accuse and for whose seizure and punishment I call upon you

to exert your whole power. It is your duty as a magistrate,

and I believe and hope that your feelings as a man will not revolt

from the execution of those functions on this occasion."

This address caused a considerable change in the physiognomy

of my own auditor. He had heard my story with that half kind of belief

that is given to a tale of spirits and supernatural events;

but when he was called upon to act officially in consequence,

the whole tide of his incredulity returned. He, however,

answered mildly, "I would willingly afford you every aid in your pursuit,

but the creature of whom you speak appears to have powers

which would put all my exertions to defiance. Who can follow an animal

which can traverse the sea of ice and inhabit caves and dens

where no man would venture to intrude? Besides, some months have elapsed

since the commission of his crimes, and no one can conjecture

to what place he has wandered or what region he may now inhabit."

"I do not doubt that he hovers near the spot which I inhabit,

and if he has indeed taken refuge in the Alps, he may be hunted

like the chamois and destroyed as a beast of prey. But I perceive

your thoughts; you do not credit my narrative and do not intend

to pursue my enemy with the punishment which is his desert."

As I spoke, rage sparkled in my eyes; the magistrate was intimidated.

"You are mistaken," said he. "I will exert myself, and if it is in my power

to seize the monster, be assured that he shall suffer punishment

proportionate to his crimes. But I fear, from what you have

yourself described to be his properties, that this will prove impracticable;

and thus, while every proper measure is pursued, you should make up

your mind to disappointment."

"That cannot be; but all that I can say will be of little avail.

My revenge is of no moment to you; yet, while I allow it to be a vice,

I confess that it is the devouring and only passion of my soul.

My rage is unspeakable when I reflect that the murderer,

whom I have turned loose upon society, still exists. You refuse

my just demand; I have but one resource, and I devote myself,

either in my life or death, to his destruction."

I trembled with excess of agitation as I said this; there was a frenzy

in my manner, and something, I doubt not, of that haughty fierceness

which the martyrs of old are said to have possessed.

But to a Genevan magistrate, whose mind was occupied by far other ideas

than those of devotion and heroism, this elevation of mind

had much the appearance of madness. He endeavoured to soothe me

as a nurse does a child and reverted to my tale as the effects of delirium.

"Man," I cried, "how ignorant art thou in thy pride of wisdom!

Cease; you know not what it is you say."

I broke from the house angry and disturbed and retired

to meditate on some other mode of action.



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