Book Read Free

The Plague, Pestilence & Apocalypse MEGAPACK™

Page 133

by Robert Reed


  from the fruitless sea, he lay the prey of corruption— still that was

  the form she had caressed, those the lips that meeting hers, had

  drank the spirit of love from the commingling breath; that was the

  earthly mechanism of dissoluble clay she had called her own . True,

  she looked forward to another life; true, the burning spirit of love

  seemed to her unextinguishable throughout eternity . Yet at this time,

  with human fondness, she clung to all that her human senses permit-

  ted her to see and feel to be a part of Raymond .

  Pale as marble, clear and beaming as that, she heard my tale, and

  enquired concerning the spot where he had been deposited . Her fea-

  tures had lost the distortion of grief; her eyes were brightened, her

  very person seemed dilated; while the excessive whiteness and even

  transparency of her skin, and something hollow in her voice, bore

  witness that not tranquillity, but excess of excitement, occasioned

  the treacherous calm that settled on her countenance . I asked her

  where he should be buried . She replied, “At Athens; even at the Ath-

  ens which he loved . Without the town, on the acclivity of Hymettus,

  there is a rocky recess which he pointed out to me as the spot where

  he would wish to repose .”

  My own desire certainly was that he should not be removed from

  the spot where he now lay . But her wish was of course to be complied

  with; and I entreated her to prepare without delay for our departure .

  Behold now the melancholy train cross the flats of Thrace, and

  wind through the defiles, and over the mountains of Macedonia,

  coast the clear waves of the Peneus, cross the Larissean plain, pass

  the straits of Thermopylae, and ascending in succession Oeta and

  Parnassus, descend to the fertile plain of Athens . Women bear with

  resignation these long drawn ills, but to a man’s impatient spirit,

  the slow motion of our cavalcade, the melancholy repose we took

  at noon, the perpetual presence of the pall, gorgeous though it was,

  that wrapt the rifled casket which had contained Raymond, the mo-

  notonous recurrence of day and night, unvaried by hope or change,

  THE LAST MAN, by Mary Shelley | 1015

  all the circumstances of our march were intolerable . Perdita, shut

  up in herself, spoke little . Her carriage was closed; and, when we

  rested, she sat leaning her pale cheek on her white cold hand, with

  eyes fixed on the ground, indulging thoughts which refused com-

  munication or sympathy .

  We descended from Parnassus, emerging from its many folds,

  and passed through Livadia on our road to Attica . Perdita would not

  enter Athens; but reposing at Marathon on the night of our arrival,

  conducted me on the following day, to the spot selected by her as the

  treasure house of Raymond’s dear remains . It was in a recess near

  the head of the ravine to the south of Hymettus . The chasm, deep,

  black, and hoary, swept from the summit to the base; in the fissures

  of the rock myrtle underwood grew and wild thyme, the food of

  many nations of bees; enormous crags protruded into the cleft, some

  beetling over, others rising perpendicularly from it . At the foot of

  this sublime chasm, a fertile laughing valley reached from sea to

  sea, and beyond was spread the blue Aegean, sprinkled with islands,

  the light waves glancing beneath the sun . Close to the spot on which

  we stood, was a solitary rock, high and conical, which, divided on

  every side from the mountain, seemed a nature-hewn pyramid; with

  little labour this block was reduced to a perfect shape; the narrow

  cell was scooped out beneath in which Raymond was placed, and a

  short inscription, carved in the living stone, recorded the name of its

  tenant, the cause and aera of his death .

  Every thing was accomplished with speed under my directions .

  I agreed to leave the finishing and guardianship of the tomb to the

  head of the religious establishment at Athens, and by the end of Oc-

  tober prepared for my return to England . I mentioned this to Perdita .

  It was painful to appear to drag her from the last scene that spoke of

  her lost one; but to linger here was vain, and my very soul was sick

  with its yearning to rejoin my Idris and her babes . In reply, my sister

  requested me to accompany her the following evening to the tomb

  of Raymond . Some days had passed since I had visited the spot . The

  path to it had been enlarged, and steps hewn in the rock led us less

  circuitously than before, to the spot itself; the platform on which

  THE LAST MAN, by Mary Shelley | 1016

  the pyramid stood was enlarged, and looking towards the south, in

  a recess overshadowed by the straggling branches of a wild fig-tree,

  I saw foundations dug, and props and rafters fixed, evidently the

  commencement of a cottage; standing on its unfinished threshold,

  the tomb was at our right-hand, the whole ravine, and plain, and

  azure sea immediately before us; the dark rocks received a glow

  from the descending sun, which glanced along the cultivated valley,

  and dyed in purple and orange the placid waves; we sat on a rocky

  elevation, and I gazed with rapture on the beauteous panorama of

  living and changeful colours, which varied and enhanced the graces

  of earth and ocean .

  “Did I not do right,” said Perdita, “in having my loved one con-

  veyed hither? Hereafter this will be the cynosure of Greece . In such

  a spot death loses half its terrors, and even the inanimate dust ap-

  pears to partake of the spirit of beauty which hallows this region .

  Lionel, he sleeps there; that is the grave of Raymond, he whom in

  my youth I first loved; whom my heart accompanied in days of sepa-

  ration and anger; to whom I am now joined for ever . Never—mark

  me—never will I leave this spot . Methinks his spirit remains here

  as well as that dust, which, uncommunicable though it be, is more

  precious in its nothingness than aught else widowed earth clasps to

  her sorrowing bosom . The myrtle bushes, the thyme, the little cycla-

  men, which peep from the fissures of the rock, all the produce of the

  place, bear affinity to him; the light that invests the hills participates

  in his essence, and sky and mountains, sea and valley, are imbued by

  the presence of his spirit . I will live and die here!

  “Go you to England, Lionel; return to sweet Idris and dearest

  Adrian; return, and let my orphan girl be as a child of your own in

  your house . Look on me as dead; and truly if death be a mere change

  of state, I am dead . This is another world, from that which late I in-

  habited, from that which is now your home . Here I hold communion

  only with the has been, and to come . Go you to England, and leave

  me where alone I can consent to drag out the miserable days which

  I must still live .”

  THE LAST MAN, by Mary Shelley | 1017

  A shower of tears terminated her sad harangue . I had expected

  some extravagant proposition, and remained silent awhile, collect-

  ing my thoughts that I might the better combat her fanciful scheme .

  “You cherish dreary thoughts,
my dear Perdita,” I said, “nor do I

  wonder that for a time your better reason should be influenced by

  passionate grief and a disturbed imagination . Even I am in love with

  this last home of Raymond’s; nevertheless we must quit it .”

  “I expected this,” cried Perdita; “I supposed that you would treat

  me as a mad, foolish girl . But do not deceive yourself; this cottage

  is built by my order; and here I shall remain, until the hour arrives

  when I may share his happier dwelling .”

  “My dearest girl!”

  “And what is there so strange in my design? I might have de-

  ceived you; I might have talked of remaining here only a few

  months; in your anxiety to reach Windsor you would have left me,

  and without reproach or contention, I might have pursued my plan .

  But I disdained the artifice; or rather in my wretchedness it was my

  only consolation to pour out my heart to you, my brother, my only

  friend . You will not dispute with me? You know how wilful your

  poor, misery-stricken sister is . Take my girl with you; wean her from

  sights and thoughts of sorrow; let infantine hilarity revisit her heart,

  and animate her eyes; so could it never be, were she near me; it is far

  better for all of you that you should never see me again . For myself,

  I will not voluntarily seek death, that is, I will not, while I can com-

  mand myself; and I can here . But drag me from this country; and my

  power of self control vanishes, nor can I answer for the violence my

  agony of grief may lead me to commit .”

  “You clothe your meaning, Perdita,” I replied, “in powerful

  words, yet that meaning is selfish and unworthy of you. You have

  often agreed with me that there is but one solution to the intricate

  riddle of life; to improve ourselves, and contribute to the happi-

  ness of others: and now, in the very prime of life, you desert your

  principles, and shut yourself up in useless solitude . Will you think

  of Raymond less at Windsor, the scene of your early happiness?

  Will you commune less with his departed spirit, while you watch

  THE LAST MAN, by Mary Shelley | 1018

  over and cultivate the rare excellence of his child? You have been

  sadly visited; nor do I wonder that a feeling akin to insanity should

  drive you to bitter and unreasonable imaginings . But a home of love

  awaits you in your native England . My tenderness and affection

  must soothe you; the society of Raymond’s friends will be of more

  solace than these dreary speculations. We will all make it our first

  care, our dearest task, to contribute to your happiness .”

  Perdita shook her head; “If it could be so,” she replied, “I were

  much in the wrong to disdain your offers . But it is not a matter of

  choice; I can live here only . I am a part of this scene; each and all

  its properties are a part of me . This is no sudden fancy; I live by it .

  The knowledge that I am here, rises with me in the morning, and

  enables me to endure the light; it is mingled with my food, which

  else were poison; it walks, it sleeps with me, for ever it accompanies

  me . Here I may even cease to repine, and may add my tardy consent

  to the decree which has taken him from me . He would rather have

  died such a death, which will be recorded in history to endless time,

  than have lived to old age unknown, unhonoured . Nor can I desire

  better, than, having been the chosen and beloved of his heart, here,

  in youth’s prime, before added years can tarnish the best feelings of

  my nature, to watch his tomb, and speedily rejoin him in his blessed

  repose .

  “So much, my dearest Lionel, I have said, wishing to persuade

  you that I do right . If you are unconvinced, I can add nothing further

  by way of argument, and I can only declare my fixed resolve. I stay

  here; force only can remove me . Be it so; drag me away—I return;

  confine me, imprison me, still I escape, and come here. Or would

  my brother rather devote the heart-broken Perdita to the straw and

  chains of a maniac, than suffer her to rest in peace beneath the shad-

  ow of His society, in this my own selected and beloved recess?”—

  All this appeared to me, I own, methodized madness . I imagined,

  that it was my imperative duty to take her from scenes that thus forc-

  ibly reminded her of her loss . Nor did I doubt, that in the tranquillity

  of our family circle at Windsor, she would recover some degree of

  composure, and in the end, of happiness . My affection for Clara

  THE LAST MAN, by Mary Shelley | 1019

  also led me to oppose these fond dreams of cherished grief; her

  sensibility had already been too much excited; her infant heedless-

  ness too soon exchanged for deep and anxious thought . The strange

  and romantic scheme of her mother, might confirm and perpetuate

  the painful view of life, which had intruded itself thus early on her

  contemplation .

  On returning home, the captain of the steam packet with whom

  I had agreed to sail, came to tell me, that accidental circumstances

  hastened his departure, and that, if I went with him, I must come on

  board at five on the following morning. I hastily gave my consent to

  this arrangement, and as hastily formed a plan through which Per-

  dita should be forced to become my companion . I believe that most

  people in my situation would have acted in the same manner . Yet

  this consideration does not, or rather did not in after time, diminish

  the reproaches of my conscience . At the moment, I felt convinced

  that I was acting for the best, and that all I did was right and even

  necessary .

  I sat with Perdita and soothed her, by my seeming assent to her

  wild scheme . She received my concurrence with pleasure, and a

  thousand times over thanked her deceiving, deceitful brother . As

  night came on, her spirits, enlivened by my unexpected concession,

  regained an almost forgotten vivacity . I pretended to be alarmed by

  the feverish glow in her cheek; I entreated her to take a compos-

  ing draught; I poured out the medicine, which she took docilely

  from me. I watched her as she drank it. Falsehood and artifice are

  in themselves so hateful, that, though I still thought I did right, a

  feeling of shame and guilt came painfully upon me . I left her, and

  soon heard that she slept soundly under the influence of the opiate

  I had administered . She was carried thus unconscious on board; the

  anchor weighed, and the wind being favourable, we stood far out to

  sea; with all the canvas spread, and the power of the engine to assist,

  we scudded swiftly and steadily through the chafed element .

  It was late in the day before Perdita awoke, and a longer time

  elapsed before recovering from the torpor occasioned by the lauda-

  num, she perceived her change of situation . She started wildly from

  THE LAST MAN, by Mary Shelley | 1020

  her couch, and flew to the cabin window. The blue and troubled sea

  sped past the vessel, and was spread shoreless around: the sky was

  covered by a rack, which in its swift motion shewed how speedily

  she was borne away . The creakin
g of the masts, the clang of the

  wheels, the tramp above, all persuaded her that she was already far

  from the shores of Greece .—“Where are we?” she cried, “where are

  we going?”—

  The attendant whom I had stationed to watch her, replied, “to

  England .”—

  “And my brother?”—

  “Is on deck, Madam .”

  “Unkind! unkind!” exclaimed the poor victim, as with a deep sigh

  she looked on the waste of waters . Then without further remark, she

  threw herself on her couch, and closing her eyes remained motion-

  less; so that but for the deep sighs that burst from her, it would have

  seemed that she slept .

  As soon as I heard that she had spoken, I sent Clara to her, that

  the sight of the lovely innocent might inspire gentle and affectionate

  thoughts . But neither the presence of her child, nor a subsequent

  visit from me, could rouse my sister . She looked on Clara with a

  countenance of woful meaning, but she did not speak . When I ap-

  peared, she turned away, and in reply to my enquiries, only said,

  “You know not what you have done!”—I trusted that this sullenness

  betokened merely the struggle between disappointment and natural

  affection, and that in a few days she would be reconciled to her fate .

  When night came on, she begged that Clara might sleep in a sep-

  arate cabin . Her servant, however, remained with her . About mid-

  night she spoke to the latter, saying that she had had a bad dream,

  and bade her go to her daughter, and bring word whether she rested

  quietly . The woman obeyed .

  The breeze, that had flagged since sunset, now rose again. I was

  on deck, enjoying our swift progress . The quiet was disturbed only

  by the rush of waters as they divided before the steady keel, the mur-

  mur of the moveless and full sails, the wind whistling in the shrouds,

  and the regular motion of the engine . The sea was gently agitated,

  THE LAST MAN, by Mary Shelley | 1021

  now shewing a white crest, and now resuming an uniform hue; the

  clouds had disappeared; and dark ether clipt the broad ocean, in

  which the constellations vainly sought their accustomed mirror . Our

  rate could not have been less than eight knots .

  Suddenly I heard a splash in the sea . The sailors on watch rushed

  to the side of the vessel, with the cry—some one gone overboard .

 

‹ Prev