CHAPTER XXIV.
My present situation was one in which all voluntary thought wasswallowed up and lost. I was hurried away by fury; revenge alone endowedme with strength and composure; it moulded my feelings, and allowed meto be calculating and calm, at periods when otherwise delirium or deathwould have been my portion.
My first resolution was to quit Geneva for ever; my country, which, whenI was happy and beloved, was dear to me, now, in my adversity, becamehateful. I provided myself with a sum of money, together with a fewjewels which had belonged to my mother, and departed.
And now my wanderings began, which are to cease but with life. I havetraversed a vast portion of the earth, and have endured all thehardships which travellers, in deserts and barbarous countries, are wontto meet. How I have lived I hardly know; many times have I stretched myfailing limbs upon the sandy plain, and prayed for death. But revengekept me alive; I dared not die, and leave my adversary in being.
When I quitted Geneva, my first labour was to gain some clue by which Imight trace the steps of my fiendish enemy. But my plan was unsettled;and I wandered many hours round the confines of the town, uncertain whatpath I should pursue. As night approached, I found myself at theentrance of the cemetery where William, Elizabeth, and my fatherreposed. I entered it, and approached the tomb which marked theirgraves. Every thing was silent, except the leaves of the trees, whichwere gently agitated by the wind; the night was nearly dark; and thescene would have been solemn and affecting even to an uninterestedobserver. The spirits of the departed seemed to flit around, and to casta shadow, which was felt but not seen, around the head of the mourner.
The deep grief which this scene had at first excited quickly gave way torage and despair. They were dead, and I lived; their murderer alsolived, and to destroy him I must drag out my weary existence. I knelt onthe grass, and kissed the earth, and with quivering lips exclaimed, "Bythe sacred earth on which I kneel, by the shades that wander near me, bythe deep and eternal grief that I feel, I swear; and by thee, O Night,and the spirits that preside over thee, to pursue the daemon, who causedthis misery, until he or I shall perish in mortal conflict. For thispurpose I will preserve my life: to execute this dear revenge, will Iagain behold the sun, and tread the green herbage of earth, whichotherwise should vanish from my eyes for ever. And I call on you,spirits of the dead; and on you, wandering ministers of vengeance, toaid and conduct me in my work. Let the cursed and hellish monster drinkdeep of agony; let him feel the despair that now torments me."
I had begun my adjuration with solemnity, and an awe which almostassured me that the shades of my murdered friends heard and approved mydevotion; but the furies possessed me as I concluded, and rage choked myutterance.
I was answered through the stillness of night by a loud and fiendishlaugh. It rung on my ears long and heavily; the mountains re-echoed it,and I felt as if all hell surrounded me with mockery and laughter.Surely in that moment I should have been possessed by frenzy, and havedestroyed my miserable existence, but that my vow was heard, and that Iwas reserved for vengeance. The laughter died away; when a well-knownand abhorred voice, apparently close to my ear, addressed me in anaudible whisper--"I am satisfied: miserable wretch! you have determinedto live, and I am satisfied."
I darted towards the spot from which the sound proceeded; but the devileluded my grasp. Suddenly the broad disk of the moon arose, and shonefull upon his ghastly and distorted shape, as he fled with more thanmortal speed.
I pursued him; and for many months this has been my task. Guided by aslight clue, I followed the windings of the Rhone, but vainly. The blueMediterranean appeared; and, by a strange chance, I saw the fiend enterby night, and hide himself in a vessel bound for the Black Sea. I tookmy passage in the same ship; but he escaped, I know not how.
Amidst the wilds of Tartary and Russia, although he still evaded me, Ihave ever followed in his track. Sometimes the peasants, scared by thishorrid apparition, informed me of his path; sometimes he himself, whofeared that if I lost all trace of him, I should despair and die, leftsome mark to guide me. The snows descended on my head, and I saw theprint of his huge step on the white plain. To you first entering onlife, to whom care is new, and agony unknown, how can you understandwhat I have felt, and still feel? Cold, want, and fatigue, were theleast pains which I was destined to endure; I was cursed by some devil,and carried about with me my eternal hell; yet still a spirit of goodfollowed and directed my steps; and, when I most murmured, wouldsuddenly extricate me from seemingly insurmountable difficulties.Sometimes, when nature, overcome by hunger, sunk under the exhaustion, arepast was prepared for me in the desert, that restored and inspiritedme. The fare was, indeed, coarse, such as the peasants of the countryate; but I will not doubt that it was set there by the spirits that Ihad invoked to aid me. Often, when all was dry, the heavens cloudless,and I was parched by thirst, a slight cloud would bedim the sky, shedthe few drops that revived me, and vanish.
I followed, when I could, the courses of the rivers; but the daemongenerally avoided these, as it was here that the population of thecountry chiefly collected. In other places human beings were seldomseen; and I generally subsisted on the wild animals that crossed mypath. I had money with me, and gained the friendship of the villagers bydistributing it; or I brought with me some food that I had killed,which, after taking a small part, I always presented to those who hadprovided me with fire and utensils for cooking.
My life, as it passed thus, was indeed hateful to me, and it was duringsleep alone that I could taste joy. O blessed sleep! often, when mostmiserable, I sank to repose, and my dreams lulled me even to rapture.The spirits that guarded me had provided these moments, or rather hours,of happiness, that I might retain strength to fulfil my pilgrimage.Deprived of this respite, I should have sunk under my hardships. Duringthe day I was sustained and inspirited by the hope of night: for insleep I saw my friends, my wife, and my beloved country; again I saw thebenevolent countenance of my father, heard the silver tones of myElizabeth's voice, and beheld Clerval enjoying health and youth. Often,when wearied by a toilsome march, I persuaded myself that I was dreaminguntil night should come, and that I should then enjoy reality in thearms of my dearest friends. What agonising fondness did I feel for them!how did I cling to their dear forms, as sometimes they haunted even mywaking hours, and persuade myself that they still lived! At such momentsvengeance, that burned within me, died in my heart, and I pursued mypath towards the destruction of the daemon, more as a task enjoined byheaven, as the mechanical impulse of some power of which I wasunconscious, than as the ardent desire of my soul.
What his feelings were whom I pursued I cannot know. Sometimes, indeed,he left marks in writing on the barks of the trees, or cut in stone,that guided me, and instigated my fury. "My reign is not yet over,"(these words were legible in one of these inscriptions;) "you live, andmy power is complete. Follow me; I seek the everlasting ices of thenorth, where you will feel the misery of cold and frost, to which I amimpassive. You will find near this place, if you follow not too tardily,a dead hare; eat, and be refreshed. Come on, my enemy; we have yet towrestle for our lives; but many hard and miserable hours must you endureuntil that period shall arrive."
Scoffing devil! Again do I vow vengeance; again do I devote thee,miserable fiend, to torture and death. Never will I give up my search,until he or I perish; and then with what ecstasy shall I join myElizabeth, and my departed friends, who even now prepare for me thereward of my tedious toil and horrible pilgrimage!
As I still pursued my journey to the northward, the snows thickened, andthe cold increased in a degree almost too severe to support. Thepeasants were shut up in their hovels, and only a few of the most hardyventured forth to seize the animals whom starvation had forced fromtheir hiding-places to seek for prey. The rivers were covered with ice,and no fish could be procured; and thus I was cut off from my chiefarticle of maintenance.
The triumph of my enemy increased with the difficulty of my labours. Oneinscription that h
e left was in these words:--"Prepare! your toils onlybegin: wrap yourself in furs, and provide food; for we shall soon enterupon a journey where your sufferings will satisfy my everlastinghatred."
My courage and perseverance were invigorated by these scoffing words; Iresolved not to fail in my purpose; and, calling on Heaven to supportme, I continued with unabated fervour to traverse immense deserts, untilthe ocean appeared at a distance, and formed the utmost boundary of thehorizon. Oh! how unlike it was to the blue seas of the south! Coveredwith ice, it was only to be distinguished from land by its superiorwildness and ruggedness. The Greeks wept for joy when they beheld theMediterranean from the hills of Asia, and hailed with rapture theboundary of their toils. I did not weep; but I knelt down, and, with afull heart, thanked my guiding spirit for conducting me in safety to theplace where I hoped, notwithstanding my adversary's gibe, to meet andgrapple with him.
Some weeks before this period I had procured a sledge and dogs, and thustraversed the snows with inconceivable speed. I know not whether thefiend possessed the same advantages; but I found that, as before I haddaily lost ground in the pursuit, I now gained on him: so much so, thatwhen I first saw the ocean, he was but one day's journey in advance, andI hoped to intercept him before he should reach the beach. With newcourage, therefore, I pressed on, and in two days arrived at a wretchedhamlet on the sea-shore. I enquired of the inhabitants concerning thefiend, and gained accurate information. A gigantic monster, they said,had arrived the night before, armed with a gun and many pistols; puttingto flight the inhabitants of a solitary cottage, through fear of histerrific appearance. He had carried off their store of winter food, and,placing it in a sledge, to draw which he had seized on a numerous droveof trained dogs, he had harnessed them, and the same night, to the joyof the horror-struck villagers, had pursued his journey across the seain a direction that led to no land; and they conjectured that he mustspeedily be destroyed by the breaking of the ice, or frozen by theeternal frosts.
On hearing this information, I suffered a temporary access of despair.He had escaped me; and I must commence a destructive and almost endlessjourney across the mountainous ices of the ocean,--amidst cold that fewof the inhabitants could long endure, and which I, the native of agenial and sunny climate, could not hope to survive. Yet at the ideathat the fiend should live and be triumphant, my rage and vengeancereturned, and, like a mighty tide, overwhelmed every other feeling.After a slight repose, during which the spirits of the dead hoveredround, and instigated me to toil and revenge, I prepared for my journey.
I exchanged my land-sledge for one fashioned for the inequalities of theFrozen Ocean; and purchasing a plentiful stock of provisions, I departedfrom land.
I cannot guess how many days have passed since then; but I have enduredmisery, which nothing but the eternal sentiment of a just retributionburning within my heart could have enabled me to support. Immense andrugged mountains of ice often barred up my passage, and I often heardthe thunder of the ground sea, which threatened my destruction. Butagain the frost came, and made the paths of the sea secure.
By the quantity of provision which I had consumed, I should guess that Ihad passed three weeks in this journey; and the continual protraction ofhope, returning back upon the heart, often wrung bitter drops ofdespondency and grief from my eyes. Despair had indeed almost securedher prey, and I should soon have sunk beneath this misery. Once, afterthe poor animals that conveyed me had with incredible toil gained thesummit of a sloping ice-mountain, and one, sinking under his fatigue,died, I viewed the expanse before me with anguish, when suddenly my eyecaught a dark speck upon the dusky plain. I strained my sight todiscover what it could be, and uttered a wild cry of ecstasy when Idistinguished a sledge, and the distorted proportions of a well-knownform within. Oh! with what a burning gush did hope revisit my heart!warm tears filled my eyes, which I hastily wiped away, that they mightnot intercept the view I had of the daemon; but still my sight was dimmedby the burning drops, until, giving way to the emotions that oppressedme, I wept aloud.
But this was not the time for delay: I disencumbered the dogs of theirdead companion, gave them a plentiful portion of food; and, after anhour's rest, which was absolutely necessary, and yet which was bitterlyirksome to me, I continued my route. The sledge was still visible; nordid I again lose sight of it, except at the moments when for a shorttime some ice-rock concealed it with its intervening crags. I indeedperceptibly gained on it; and when, after nearly two days' journey, Ibeheld my enemy at no more than a mile distant, my heart bounded withinme.
But now, when I appeared almost within grasp of my foe, my hopes weresuddenly extinguished, and I lost all trace of him more utterly than Ihad ever done before. A ground sea was heard; the thunder of itsprogress, as the waters rolled and swelled beneath me, became everymoment more ominous and terrific. I pressed on, but in vain. The windarose; the sea roared; and, as with the mighty shock of an earthquake,it split, and cracked with a tremendous and overwhelming sound. The workwas soon finished: in a few minutes a tumultuous sea rolled between meand my enemy, and I was left drifting on a scattered piece of ice, thatwas continually lessening, and thus preparing for me a hideous death.
In this manner many appalling hours passed; several of my dogs died; andI myself was about to sink under the accumulation of distress, when Isaw your vessel riding at anchor, and holding forth to me hopes ofsuccour and life. I had no conception that vessels ever came so farnorth, and was astounded at the sight. I quickly destroyed part of mysledge to construct oars; and by these means was enabled, with infinitefatigue, to move my ice-raft in the direction of your ship. I haddetermined, if you were going southward, still to trust myself to themercy of the seas rather than abandon my purpose. I hoped to induce youto grant me a boat with which I could pursue my enemy. But yourdirection was northward. You took me on board when my vigour wasexhausted, and I should soon have sunk under my multiplied hardshipsinto a death which I still dread--for my task is unfulfilled.
Oh! when will my guiding spirit, in conducting me to the daemon, allow methe rest I so much desire; or must I die, and he yet live? If I do,swear to me, Walton, that he shall not escape; that you will seek him,and satisfy my vengeance in his death. And do I dare to ask of you toundertake my pilgrimage, to endure the hardships that I have undergone?No; I am not so selfish. Yet, when I am dead, if he should appear; ifthe ministers of vengeance should conduct him to you, swear that heshall not live--swear that he shall not triumph over my accumulatedwoes, and survive to add to the list of his dark crimes. He is eloquentand persuasive; and once his words had even power over my heart: buttrust him not. His soul is as hellish as his form, full of treachery andfiendlike malice. Hear him not; call on the manes of William, Justine,Clerval, Elizabeth, my father, and of the wretched Victor, and thrustyour sword into his heart. I will hover near, and direct the steelaright.
* * * * *
WALTON, _in continuation_.
August 26th, 17--.
You have read this strange and terrific story, Margaret; and do you notfeel your blood congeal with horror, like that which even now curdlesmine? Sometimes, seized with sudden agony, he could not continue histale; at others, his voice broken, yet piercing, uttered with difficultythe words so replete with anguish. His fine and lovely eyes were nowlighted up with indignation, now subdued to downcast sorrow, andquenched in infinite wretchedness. Sometimes he commanded hiscountenance and tones, and related the most horrible incidents with atranquil voice, suppressing every mark of agitation; then, like avolcano bursting forth, his face would suddenly change to an expressionof the wildest rage, as he shrieked out imprecations on his persecutor.
His tale is connected, and told with an appearance of the simplesttruth; yet I own to you that the letters of Felix and Safie, which heshowed me, and the apparition of the monster seen from our ship, broughtto me a greater conviction of the truth of his narrative than hisasseverations, however earnest and connected. Such a monster has thenreally existenc
e! I cannot doubt it; yet I am lost in surprise andadmiration. Sometimes I endeavoured to gain from Frankenstein theparticulars of his creature's formation: but on this point he wasimpenetrable.
"Are you mad, my friend?" said he; "or whither does your senselesscuriosity lead you? Would you also create for yourself and the world ademoniacal enemy? Peace, peace! learn my miseries, and do not seek toincrease your own."
Frankenstein discovered that I made notes concerning his history: heasked to see them, and then himself corrected and augmented them in manyplaces; but principally in giving the life and spirit to theconversations he held with his enemy. "Since you have preserved mynarration," said he, "I would not that a mutilated one should go down toposterity."
Thus has a week passed away, while I have listened to the strangest talethat ever imagination formed. My thoughts, and every feeling of my soul,have been drunk up by the interest for my guest, which this tale, andhis own elevated and gentle manners, have created. I wish to soothe him;yet can I counsel one so infinitely miserable, so destitute of everyhope of consolation, to live? Oh, no! the only joy that he can now knowwill be when he composes his shattered spirit to peace and death. Yet heenjoys one comfort, the offspring of solitude and delirium: he believes,that, when in dreams he holds converse with his friends, and derivesfrom that communion consolation for his miseries, or excitements to hisvengeance, that they are not the creations of his fancy, but the beingsthemselves who visit him from the regions of a remote world. This faithgives a solemnity to his reveries that render them to me almost asimposing and interesting as truth.
Our conversations are not always confined to his own history andmisfortunes. On every point of general literature he displays unboundedknowledge, and a quick and piercing apprehension. His eloquence isforcible and touching; nor can I hear him, when he relates a patheticincident, or endeavours to move the passions of pity or love, withouttears. What a glorious creature must he have been in the days of hisprosperity, when he is thus noble and godlike in ruin! He seems to feelhis own worth, and the greatness of his fall.
"When younger," said he, "I believed myself destined for some greatenterprise. My feelings are profound; but I possessed a coolness ofjudgment that fitted me for illustrious achievements. This sentiment ofthe worth of my nature supported me, when others would have beenoppressed; for I deemed it criminal to throw away in useless grief thosetalents that might be useful to my fellow-creatures. When I reflected onthe work I had completed, no less a one than the creation of a sensitiveand rational animal, I could not rank myself with the herd of commonprojectors. But this thought, which supported me in the commencement ofmy career, now serves only to plunge me lower in the dust. All myspeculations and hopes are as nothing; and, like the archangel whoaspired to omnipotence, I am chained in an eternal hell. My imaginationwas vivid, yet my powers of analysis and application were intense; bythe union of these qualities I conceived the idea, and executed thecreation of a man. Even now I cannot recollect, without passion, myreveries while the work was incomplete. I trod heaven in my thoughts,now exulting in my powers, now burning with the idea of their effects.From my infancy I was imbued with high hopes and a lofty ambition; buthow am I sunk! Oh! my friend, if you had known me as I once was, youwould not recognise me in this state of degradation. Despondency rarelyvisited my heart; a high destiny seemed to bear me on, until I fell,never, never again to rise."
Must I then lose this admirable being? I have longed for a friend; Ihave sought one who would sympathise with and love me. Behold, on thesedesert seas I have found such a one; but, I fear, I have gained him onlyto know his value, and lose him. I would reconcile him to life, but herepulses the idea.
"I thank you, Walton," he said, "for your kind intentions towards somiserable a wretch; but when you speak of new ties, and freshaffections, think you that any can replace those who are gone? Can anyman be to me as Clerval was; or any woman another Elizabeth? Even wherethe affections are not strongly moved by any superior excellence, thecompanions of our childhood always possess a certain power over ourminds, which hardly any later friend can obtain. They know our infantinedispositions, which, however they may be afterwards modified, are nevereradicated; and they can judge of our actions with more certainconclusions as to the integrity of our motives. A sister or a brothercan never, unless indeed such symptoms have been shown early, suspectthe other of fraud or false dealing, when another friend, howeverstrongly he may be attached, may, in spite of himself, be contemplatedwith suspicion. But I enjoyed friends, dear not only through habit andassociation, but from their own merits; and wherever I am, the soothingvoice of my Elizabeth, and the conversation of Clerval, will be everwhispered in my ear. They are dead; and but one feeling in such asolitude can persuade me to preserve my life. If I were engaged in anyhigh undertaking or design, fraught with extensive utility to myfellow-creatures, then could I live to fulfil it. But such is not mydestiny; I must pursue and destroy the being to whom I gave existence;then my lot on earth will be fulfilled, and I may die."
* * * * *
September 2d.
My beloved Sister,
I write to you, encompassed by peril, and ignorant whether I am everdoomed to see again dear England, and the dearer friends that inhabitit. I am surrounded by mountains of ice, which admit of no escape, andthreaten every moment to crush my vessel. The brave fellows, whom I havepersuaded to be my companions, look towards me for aid; but I have noneto bestow. There is something terribly appalling in our situation, yetmy courage and hopes do not desert me. Yet it is terrible to reflectthat the lives of all these men are endangered through me. If we arelost, my mad schemes are the cause.
And what, Margaret, will be the state of your mind? You will not hear ofmy destruction, and you will anxiously await my return. Years will pass,and you will have visitings of despair, and yet be tortured by hope. Oh!my beloved sister, the sickening failing of your heart-felt expectationsis, in prospect, more terrible to me than my own death. But you have ahusband, and lovely children; you may be happy: Heaven bless you, andmake you so!
My unfortunate guest regards me with the tenderest compassion. Heendeavours to fill me with hope; and talks as if life were a possessionwhich he valued. He reminds me how often the same accidents havehappened to other navigators, who have attempted this sea, and, in spiteof myself, he fills me with cheerful auguries. Even the sailors feel thepower of his eloquence: when he speaks, they no longer despair; herouses their energies, and, while they hear his voice, they believethese vast mountains of ice are mole-hills, which will vanish before theresolutions of man. These feelings are transitory; each day ofexpectation delayed fills them with fear, and I almost dread a mutinycaused by this despair.
September 5th.
A scene has just passed of such uncommon interest, that although it ishighly probable that these papers may never reach you, yet I cannotforbear recording it.
We are still surrounded by mountains of ice, still in imminent danger ofbeing crushed in their conflict. The cold is excessive, and many of myunfortunate comrades have already found a grave amidst this scene ofdesolation. Frankenstein has daily declined in health: a feverish firestill glimmers in his eyes; but he is exhausted, and, when suddenlyroused to any exertion, he speedily sinks again into apparentlifelessness.
I mentioned in my last letter the fears I entertained of a mutiny. Thismorning, as I sat watching the wan countenance of my friend--his eyeshalf closed, and his limbs hanging listlessly,--I was roused by half adozen of the sailors, who demanded admission into the cabin. Theyentered, and their leader addressed me. He told me that he and hiscompanions had been chosen by the other sailors to come in deputation tome, to make me a requisition, which, in justice, I could not refuse. Wewere immured in ice, and should probably never escape; but they fearedthat if, as was possible, the ice should dissipate, and a free passagebe opened, I should be rash enough to continue my voyage, and lead theminto fresh dangers, after they might happily have surmounted this. They
insisted, therefore, that I should engage with a solemn promise, that ifthe vessel should be freed I would instantly direct my course southward.
This speech troubled me. I had not despaired; nor had I yet conceivedthe idea of returning, if set free. Yet could I, in justice, or even inpossibility, refuse this demand? I hesitated before I answered; whenFrankenstein, who had at first been silent, and, indeed, appeared hardlyto have force enough to attend, now roused himself; his eyes sparkled,and his cheeks flushed with momentary vigour. Turning towards the men,he said--
"What do you mean? What do you demand of your captain? Are you then soeasily turned from your design? Did you not call this a gloriousexpedition? And wherefore was it glorious? Not because the way wassmooth and placid as a southern sea, but because it was full of dangersand terror; because, at every new incident, your fortitude was to becalled forth, and your courage exhibited; because danger and deathsurrounded it, and these you were to brave and overcome. For this was ita glorious, for this was it an honourable undertaking. You werehereafter to be hailed as the benefactors of your species; your namesadored, as belonging to brave men who encountered death for honour, andthe benefit of mankind. And now, behold, with the first imagination ofdanger, or, if you will, the first mighty and terrific trial of yourcourage, you shrink away, and are content to be handed down as men whohad not strength enough to endure cold and peril; and so, poor souls,they were chilly, and returned to their warm fire-sides. Why, thatrequires not this preparation; ye need not have come thus far, anddragged your captain to the shame of a defeat, merely to proveyourselves cowards. Oh! be men, or be more than men. Be steady to yourpurposes, and firm as a rock. This ice is not made of such stuff as yourhearts may be; it is mutable, and cannot withstand you, if you say thatit shall not. Do not return to your families with the stigma of disgracemarked on your brows. Return, as heroes who have fought and conquered,and who know not what it is to turn their backs on the foe."
He spoke this with a voice so modulated to the different feelingsexpressed in his speech, with an eye so full of lofty design andheroism, that can you wonder that these men were moved? They looked atone another, and were unable to reply. I spoke; I told them to retire,and consider of what had been said: that I would not lead them farthernorth, if they strenuously desired the contrary; but that I hoped that,with reflection, their courage would return.
They retired, and I turned towards my friend; but he was sunk inlanguor, and almost deprived of life.
How all this will terminate, I know not; but I had rather die thanreturn shamefully,--my purpose unfulfilled. Yet I fear such will be myfate; the men, unsupported by ideas of glory and honour, can neverwillingly continue to endure their present hardships.
September 7th.
The die is cast; I have consented to return, if we are not destroyed.Thus are my hopes blasted by cowardice and indecision; I come backignorant and disappointed. It requires more philosophy than I possess,to bear this injustice with patience.
September 12th.
It is past; I am returning to England. I have lost my hopes of utilityand glory;--I have lost my friend. But I will endeavour to detail thesebitter circumstances to you, my dear sister; and, while I am waftedtowards England, and towards you, I will not despond.
September 9th, the ice began to move, and roarings like thunder wereheard at a distance, as the islands split and cracked in everydirection. We were in the most imminent peril; but, as we could onlyremain passive, my chief attention was occupied by my unfortunateguest, whose illness increased in such a degree, that he was entirelyconfined to his bed. The ice cracked behind us, and was driven withforce towards the north; a breeze sprung from the west, and on the 11ththe passage towards the south became perfectly free. When the sailorssaw this, and that their return to their native country was apparentlyassured, a shout of tumultuous joy broke from them, loud andlong-continued. Frankenstein, who was dozing, awoke, and asked the causeof the tumult. "They shout," I said, "because they will soon return toEngland."
"Do you then really return?"
"Alas! yes; I cannot withstand their demands. I cannot lead themunwillingly to danger, and I must return."
"Do so, if you will; but I will not. You may give up your purpose, butmine is assigned to me by Heaven, and I dare not. I am weak; but surelythe spirits who assist my vengeance will endow me with sufficientstrength." Saying this, he endeavoured to spring from the bed, but theexertion was too great for him; he fell back, and fainted.
It was long before he was restored; and I often thought that life wasentirely extinct. At length he opened his eyes; he breathed withdifficulty, and was unable to speak. The surgeon gave him a composingdraught, and ordered us to leave him undisturbed. In the mean time hetold me, that my friend had certainly not many hours to live.
His sentence was pronounced; and I could only grieve, and be patient. Isat by his bed, watching him; his eyes were closed, and I thought heslept; but presently he called to me in a feeble voice, and, bidding mecome near, said--"Alas! the strength I relied on is gone; I feel that Ishall soon die, and he, my enemy and persecutor, may still be in being.Think not, Walton, that in the last moments of my existence I feel thatburning hatred, and ardent desire of revenge, I once expressed; but Ifeel myself justified in desiring the death of my adversary. Duringthese last days I have been occupied in examining my past conduct; nordo I find it blamable. In a fit of enthusiastic madness I created arational creature, and was bound towards him, to assure, as far as wasin my power, his happiness and well-being. This was my duty; but therewas another still paramount to that. My duties towards the beings of myown species had greater claims to my attention, because they included agreater proportion of happiness or misery. Urged by this view, Irefused, and I did right in refusing, to create a companion for thefirst creature. He showed unparalleled malignity and selfishness, inevil: he destroyed my friends; he devoted to destruction beings whopossessed exquisite sensations, happiness, and wisdom; nor do I knowwhere this thirst for vengeance may end. Miserable himself, that he mayrender no other wretched, he ought to die. The task of his destructionwas mine, but I have failed. When actuated by selfish and viciousmotives, I asked you to undertake my unfinished work; and I renew thisrequest now, when I am only induced by reason and virtue.
"Yet I cannot ask you to renounce your country and friends, to fulfilthis task; and now, that you are returning to England, you will havelittle chance of meeting with him. But the consideration of thesepoints, and the well balancing of what you may esteem your duties, Ileave to you; my judgment and ideas are already disturbed by the nearapproach of death. I dare not ask you to do what I think right, for Imay still be misled by passion.
"That he should live to be an instrument of mischief disturbs me; inother respects, this hour, when I momentarily expect my release, is theonly happy one which I have enjoyed for several years. The forms of thebeloved dead flit before me, and I hasten to their arms. Farewell,Walton! Seek happiness in tranquillity, and avoid ambition, even if itbe only the apparently innocent one of distinguishing yourself inscience and discoveries. Yet why do I say this? I have myself beenblasted in these hopes, yet another may succeed."
His voice became fainter as he spoke; and at length, exhausted by hiseffort, he sunk into silence. About half an hour afterwards he attemptedagain to speak, but was unable; he pressed my hand feebly, and his eyesclosed for ever, while the irradiation of a gentle smile passed awayfrom his lips.
Margaret, what comment can I make on the untimely extinction of thisglorious spirit? What can I say, that will enable you to understand thedepth of my sorrow? All that I should express would be inadequate andfeeble. My tears flow; my mind is overshadowed by a cloud ofdisappointment. But I journey towards England, and I may there findconsolation.
I am interrupted. What do these sounds portend? It is midnight; thebreeze blows fairly, and the watch on deck scarcely stir. Again; thereis a sound as of a human voice, but hoarser; it comes from the cabinwhere the remains of Frankenstein still lie
. I must arise, and examine.Good night, my sister.
Great God! what a scene has just taken place! I am yet dizzy with theremembrance of it. I hardly know whether I shall have the power todetail it; yet the tale which I have recorded would be incompletewithout this final and wonderful catastrophe.
I entered the cabin, where lay the remains of my ill-fated and admirablefriend. Over him hung a form which I cannot find words to describe;gigantic in stature, yet uncouth and distorted in its proportions. As hehung over the coffin, his face was concealed by long locks of raggedhair; but one vast hand was extended, in colour and apparent texturelike that of a mummy. When he heard the sound of my approach, he ceasedto utter exclamations of grief and horror, and sprung towards thewindow. Never did I behold a vision so horrible as his face, of suchloathsome, yet appalling hideousness. I shut my eyes involuntarily, andendeavoured to recollect what were my duties with regard to thisdestroyer. I called on him to stay.
He paused, looking on me with wonder; and, again turning towards thelifeless form of his creator, he seemed to forget my presence, and everyfeature and gesture seemed instigated by the wildest rage of someuncontrollable passion.
"That is also my victim!" he exclaimed: "in his murder my crimes areconsummated; the miserable series of my being is wound to its close! Oh,Frankenstein! generous and self-devoted being! what does it avail thatI now ask thee to pardon me? I, who irretrievably destroyed thee bydestroying all thou lovedst. Alas! he is cold, he cannot answer me."
His voice seemed suffocated; and my first impulses, which had suggestedto me the duty of obeying the dying request of my friend, in destroyinghis enemy, were now suspended by a mixture of curiosity and compassion.I approached this tremendous being; I dared not again raise my eyes tohis face, there was something so scaring and unearthly in his ugliness.I attempted to speak, but the words died away on my lips. The monstercontinued to utter wild and incoherent self-reproaches. At length Igathered resolution to address him in a pause of the tempest of hispassion: "Your repentance," I said, "is now superfluous. If you hadlistened to the voice of conscience, and heeded the stings of remorse,before you had urged your diabolical vengeance to this extremity,Frankenstein would yet have lived.
"And do you dream?" said the daemon; "do you think that I was then deadto agony and remorse?--He," he continued, pointing to the corpse, "hesuffered not in the consummation of the deed--oh! not the ten-thousandthportion of the anguish that was mine during the lingering detail of itsexecution. A frightful selfishness hurried me on, while my heart waspoisoned with remorse. Think you that the groans of Clerval were musicto my ears? My heart was fashioned to be susceptible of love andsympathy; and, when wrenched by misery to vice and hatred, it did notendure the violence of the change, without torture such as you cannoteven imagine.
"After the murder of Clerval, I returned to Switzerland, heart-brokenand overcome. I pitied Frankenstein; my pity amounted to horror: Iabhorred myself. But when I discovered that he, the author at once of myexistence and of its unspeakable torments, dared to hope for happiness;that while he accumulated wretchedness and despair upon me, he soughthis own enjoyment in feelings and passions from the indulgence of whichI was for ever barred, then impotent envy and bitter indignation filledme with an insatiable thirst for vengeance. I recollected my threat,and resolved that it should be accomplished. I knew that I was preparingfor myself a deadly torture; but I was the slave, not the master, of animpulse, which I detested, yet could not disobey. Yet when shedied!--nay, then I was not miserable. I had cast off all feeling,subdued all anguish, to riot in the excess of my despair. Evilthenceforth became my good. Urged thus far, I had no choice but to adaptmy nature to an element which I had willingly chosen. The completion ofmy demoniacal design became an insatiable passion. And now it is ended;there is my last victim!"
I was at first touched by the expressions of his misery; yet, when Icalled to mind what Frankenstein had said of his powers of eloquence andpersuasion, and when I again cast my eyes on the lifeless form of myfriend, indignation was rekindled within me. "Wretch!" I said, "it iswell that you come here to whine over the desolation that you have made.You throw a torch into a pile of buildings; and, when they are consumed,you sit among the ruins, and lament the fall. Hypocritical fiend! if hewhom you mourn still lived, still would he be the object, again would hebecome the prey, of your accursed vengeance. It is not pity that youfeel; you lament only because the victim of your malignity is withdrawnfrom your power."
"Oh, it is not thus--not thus," interrupted the being; "yet such must bethe impression conveyed to you by what appears to be the purport of myactions. Yet I seek not a fellow-feeling in my misery. No sympathy may Iever find. When I first sought it, it was the love of virtue, thefeelings of happiness and affection with which my whole beingoverflowed, that I wished to be participated. But now, that virtue hasbecome to me a shadow, and that happiness and affection are turned intobitter and loathing despair, in what should I seek for sympathy? I amcontent to suffer alone, while my sufferings shall endure: when I die, Iam well satisfied that abhorrence and opprobrium should load my memory.Once my fancy was soothed with dreams of virtue, of fame, and ofenjoyment. Once I falsely hoped to meet with beings, who, pardoning myoutward form, would love me for the excellent qualities which I wascapable of unfolding. I was nourished with high thoughts of honour anddevotion. But now crime has degraded me beneath the meanest animal. Noguilt, no mischief, no malignity, no misery, can be found comparable tomine. When I run over the frightful catalogue of my sins, I cannotbelieve that I am the same creature whose thoughts were once filled withsublime and transcendent visions of the beauty and the majesty ofgoodness. But it is even so; the fallen angel becomes a malignant devil.Yet even that enemy of God and man had friends and associates in hisdesolation; I am alone.
"You, who call Frankenstein your friend, seem to have a knowledge of mycrimes and his misfortunes. But, in the detail which he gave you ofthem, he could not sum up the hours and months of misery which Iendured, wasting in impotent passions. For while I destroyed his hopes,I did not satisfy my own desires. They were for ever ardent and craving;still I desired love and fellowship, and I was still spurned. Was thereno injustice in this? Am I to be thought the only criminal, when allhuman kind sinned against me? Why do you not hate Felix, who drove hisfriend from his door with contumely? Why do you not execrate the rusticwho sought to destroy the saviour of his child? Nay, these are virtuousand immaculate beings! I, the miserable and the abandoned, am anabortion, to be spurned at, and kicked, and trampled on. Even now myblood boils at the recollection of this injustice.
"But it is true that I am a wretch. I have murdered the lovely and thehelpless; I have strangled the innocent as they slept, and grasped todeath his throat who never injured me or any other living thing. I havedevoted my creator, the select specimen of all that is worthy of loveand admiration among men, to misery; I have pursued him even to thatirremediable ruin. There he lies, white and cold in death. You hate me;but your abhorrence cannot equal that with which I regard myself. I lookon the hands which executed the deed; I think on the heart in which theimagination of it was conceived, and long for the moment when thesehands will meet my eyes, when that imagination will haunt my thoughts nomore.
"Fear not that I shall be the instrument of future mischief. My work isnearly complete. Neither yours nor any man's death is needed toconsummate the series of my being, and accomplish that which must bedone; but it requires my own. Do not think that I shall be slow toperform this sacrifice. I shall quit your vessel on the ice-raft whichbrought me thither, and shall seek the most northern extremity of theglobe; I shall collect my funeral pile, and consume to ashes thismiserable frame, that its remains may afford no light to any curious andunhallowed wretch, who would create such another as I have been. I shalldie. I shall no longer feel the agonies which now consume me, or be theprey of feelings unsatisfied, yet unquenched. He is dead who called meinto being; and when I shall be no more, the very remembrance of us bothwill speedi
ly vanish. I shall no longer see the sun or stars, or feelthe winds play on my cheeks. Light, feeling, and sense will pass away;and in this condition must I find my happiness. Some years ago, when theimages which this world affords first opened upon me, when I felt thecheering warmth of summer, and heard the rustling of the leaves and thewarbling of the birds, and these were all to me, I should have wept todie; now it is my only consolation. Polluted by crimes, and torn by thebitterest remorse, where can I find rest but in death?
"Farewell! I leave you, and in you the last of human kind whom theseeyes will ever behold. Farewell, Frankenstein! If thou wert yet alive,and yet cherished a desire of revenge against me, it would be bettersatiated in my life than in my destruction. But it was not so; thoudidst seek my extinction, that I might not cause greater wretchedness;and if yet, in some mode unknown to me, thou hadst not ceased to thinkand feel, thou wouldst not desire against me a vengeance greater thanthat which I feel. Blasted as thou wert, my agony was still superior tothine; for the bitter sting of remorse will not cease to rankle in mywounds until death shall close them for ever.
"But soon," he cried, with sad and solemn enthusiasm, "I shall die, andwhat I now feel be no longer felt. Soon these burning miseries will beextinct. I shall ascend my funeral pile triumphantly, and exult in theagony of the torturing flames. The light of that conflagration will fadeaway; my ashes will be swept into the sea by the winds. My spirit willsleep in peace; or if it thinks, it will not surely think thus.Farewell."
He sprung from the cabin-window, as he said this, upon the ice-raftwhich lay close to the vessel. He was soon borne away by the waves, andlost in darkness and distance.
THE END.
LONDON: Printed by A. & R Spottiswoode, New-Street-Square.
[Transcriber's Note: Possible printer errors corrected: Line 2863: "I do no not fear to die" to "I do now not fear to die" Line 6375: "fulfil the wishes of you parents" to "your parents"]
Frankenstein; Or, The Modern Prometheus Page 31