August 7, 2025 • 40 mins
19 - Chapters 21-22. Frankenstein by Mary W. Shelley.
Frankenstein; or, The Modern Prometheus, Gothic horror novel by Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley that was first published in 1818. The epistolary story follows a scientific genius who brings to life a terrifying monster that torments its creator. It is considered one of the first science-fiction novels. An international sensation, the story has been adapted hundreds of times in different media and has influenced pop culture at large.
Frankenstein; or, The Modern Prometheus, Gothic horror novel by Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley that was first published in 1818. The epistolary story follows a scientific genius who brings to life a terrifying monster that torments its creator. It is considered one of the first science-fiction novels. An international sensation, the story has been adapted hundreds of times in different media and has influenced pop culture at large.
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Speaker 1 (00:02):
This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in
the public domain. For more information, please visit LibriVox dot
Blogsam dot com. This recording by Mark Bradford Frankenstein by
Mary Shelley, Chapter twenty one. I was soon introduced into
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the presence of the Magistrate, an old, benevolent man with
calm and mild manners. He looked upon me, however, with
some degree of severity, and then turning towards my conductors,
he asked who appeared as witnesses on this occasion. About
half a dozen men came forward, and one being selected
by the magistrate. He deposed that he had been out
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fishing the night before with his son and brother in law,
Daniel Nugent, when about ten o'clock they observed a strong
northerly blast rising, and they accordingly put in for port.
It was a very dark night, as the moon had
not yet risen. They did not land at the harbor,
but as they had been accustomed, at a creek about
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two miles below. He walked on first, carrying a part
of the fishing tackle, and his companions followed him at
some distance. As he was proceeding along the sands. He
struck his foot against something and fell at his length
on the ground. His companions came up to assist him,
and by the light of their lantern, they found that
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he had fallen on the body of a man who
was to all appearance dead. Their first supposition was that
it was the corpse of some person who had been
drowned and was thrown on shore by the waves. But
on examination they found that the clothes were not wet,
and even that the body was not then cold. They
instantly carried it to the cottage of an old woman
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near the spot, and endeavored, but in vain, to restore
it to life. It appeared to be a handsome young
man about five and twenty years of age. He had
apparently been strangled, for there was no sign of any violence,
except the black mark of fingers on his neck. The
first part of this deposition did not in the least
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interest me, But when the mark of the fingers was mentioned,
I remembered the murder of my brother and felt myself
extremely agitated. My limbs trembled, and a mist came over
my eyes, which obliged me to lean on a chair
for support. The magistrate observed me with a keen eye,
and of course drew an unfavorable augury from my manner.
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The son confirmed his father's account, but when Daniel Nugent
was called, he swore positively that just before the fall
of his companion, he saw a boat with a single
man in it, at a short distance from the shore,
and as far as he could judge by the light
of a few stars, it was the same boat in
which I had just landed. A woman deposed that she
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lived near the beach and was standing at the door
of her cottage waiting for the return of the fisherman
about an hour hour before she heard of the discovery
of the body, when she saw a boat with only
one man in it push off from that part of
the shore where the corpse was afterwards found. Another woman
confirmed the account of the fishermen, having brought the body
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into her house. It was not cold. They put it
into a bed and rubbed it, and Daniel went to
the town for an apothecary, but life was quite gone.
Several other men were examined concerning my landing, and they
agreed that with the strong north wind that had arisen
during the night, it was very probable that I had
beaten about for many hours, and had been obliged to
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return nearly to the same spot from which I had departed. Besides,
they observed that it appeared that I had brought the
body from another place, and it was likely that, as
I did not appear to know the shore, I might
have put into the harbor, ignorant of the distance of
the town of Blank from the place where I had
deposited the corpse. Mister Kirwin, on hearing this evidence, desired
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that I should be taken into the room where the
body lay for interment, that it might be observed what
effect the sight of it would produce upon me. This
idea was probably suggested by the extreme agitation I had
exhibited when the mode of the murder had been described.
I was accordingly conducted by the magistrate and several other
persons to the inn. I could not help being struck
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by the strange coincidences that had taken place during this
eventful night. But knowing that I had been conversing with
several persons in the island I had inhabited about the
time that the body had been found, I was perfectly
tranquil as to the consequences of the affair. I entered
the room where the corpse lay, and was led up
to the coffin. How can I describe my sensations on
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beholding it. I feel yet parched with horror, Nor can
I reflect on that terrible moment without shuddering and agony.
The examination, the presence of the magistrate and witnesses, passed
like a dream from my memory. When I saw the
lifeless form of Henry Clerval stretched by for me, I
gasped for breath, and throwing myself on the body, I exclaimed,
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have my murderous machinations deprived you also, my dearest Henry
of life two. I have already destroyed other victims await
their destiny, but you Clerval, my friend, my benefactor. The
human frame could no longer support the agonies that I endured,
and I was carried out of the room in strong convulsions.
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A fever succeeded to this. I lay for two months
on the point of death. My ravings, as I afterward heard,
were frightful. I called myself the murderer of William, of
Justine and of Clerval. Sometimes I entreated my attendants to
assist me in the destruction of the fiend by whom
I was tormented, and at others I felt the fingers
of the monster already grasping my neck, and screamed aloud
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with agony and terror. Fortunately, as I spoke my native language,
mister Kirwin alone understood me. But my gestures and bitter
cries were sufficient to affronight the other witnesses. Why did
I not die more miserable than man ever was before?
Why did I not sink into forgetfulness and rest? Death
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snatches away many blooming children, the only hopes of their
doting parents. How many brides and youthful lovers have been
one day in the bloom of health and hope, and
the next a prey for worms in the decay of
the tomb? Of what materials was I made that I
could thus resist so many shocks, which, like the turning
of the wheel, continually renewed the torture. But I was
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doomed to live, and in two months found myself as
awaking from a dream in a prison, stretched on a
wretched bed, surrounded by jailers, turnkeys, bolts, and all the
miserable apparatus of a dungeon. It was morning, I remember,
when I thus awoke to understanding. I had forgotten the
particulars of what had happened, and only felt as if
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some great misfortune had suddenly overwhelmed me. But when I
looked around and saw the barred windows, the squalidness of
the room in which I was all flashed across my memory,
and I groaned bitterly. This sound disturbed an old woman
who was sleeping in a chair beside me. She was
a hired nurse, the wife of one of the turnkeys,
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and her countenance expressed all those bad qualities which often
characterized that class. The lines of her face were hard
and rude, like that of persons accustomed to see without
sympathizing in sights of misery. Her tone expressed her entire indifference.
She addressed me in English, and the voice struck me
as one that I had heard during my sufferings. Are
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you better now, sir? Said she? I replied, in the
same language, with a feeble voice. I believe I am.
But if it be all true, if indeed I did
not dream, I am sorry that I am still alive
to feel this misery and horror. For that matter, replied
the old woman. If you mean about the gentleman you murdered.
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I believe that it were better for you if you
were dead, for I fancy it will go hard with you. However,
that's none of my business. I am sent to nurse
you and get you well. I do my duty with
a safe conscience. It were well if everybody did the same.
I turned with loathing from the woman who could utter
so unfeeling a speech to a person just saved on
the very edge of death. But I felt languid and
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unable to reflect on all that had passed. The whole
series of my life appeared to me as a dream.
I sometimes doubted if indeed it were all true, for
it never presented itself to my mind with the force
of reality. As the images that floated before me became
more distinct, I grew feverish. A darkness pressed around me.
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No one was near me who soothed me with a
gentle voice of love. No dear hand supported me. The
physician came and prescribed medicines, and the old woman prepared
them for me. But utter carelessness was visible in the first,
and the expression of brutality was strongly marked in the
visage of the second. Who could be interested in the
fate of a murderer, but the hangman who would gain
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his fee. These were my first reflections, but I soon
learned that mister Kirwin had shown me extreme kindness. He
had caused the best room in the prison to be
prepared for me. Wretched indeed was the best, and it
was he who had provided a physician and a nurse.
It is true he seldom came to see me, for
although he ardently desired to relieve the sufferings of every
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human creature, he did not wish to be present at
the agonies and miserable ravings of a murderer. He came,
therefore sometimes to see that I was not neglected, but
his visits were short and with long intervals. One day,
while I was gradually recovering, I was seated in a chair,
my eyes half open and my cheeks livid, like those
in death. I was overcome by gloom and misery, and
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often reflected I had better seek death than desire to
remain in a world which to me was replete with wretchedness.
At one time I considered whether I should not declare
myself guilty and suffer the penalty of the law less
innocent than poorja Estine had been such were my thoughts.
When the door of my apartment was opened and mister
Kirwin entered, his countenance expressed sympathy and compassion. He drew
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a chair close to mine and addressed me in French.
I fear that this place is very shocking to you.
Can I do anything to make you more comfortable? I
thank you, But all that you mention is nothing to me.
On the whole earth, there is no comfort which I
am capable of receiving. I know that the sympathy of
a stranger can be of but of little relief to
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one born down as you are by so strange a misfortune.
But you will, I hope, soon quit this melancholy abode,
for doubtless evidence can easily be brought to free you
from the criminal charge. That is my least concern. I am,
by a course of strange events, become the most miserable
of mortals, persecuted and tortured as I am and have been.
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Can death be any evil to me? Nothing, indeed, could
be more unfortunate and agonizing than the strange chances that
have lately occurred. You were thrown by some surprising accident
on this shore, renowned for its hospitality, seized immediately and
charged with murder. The first sight that was presented to
your eyes was the body of your friend, murdered in
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so unaccountable a manner, and placed as it were, by
some fiend across your path. As mister Kirwin said this,
notwithstanding the agitation I endured on this retrospect of my sufferings,
I also felt considerable surprise at the knowledge she seemed
to possess concerning me. I suppose some astonishment was exhibited
in my countenance, for mister Kirwin hastened to say, immediately
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upon your being taken ill, all the papers that were
on your person were brought to me, and I examined
them that I might discover some trace by which I
could send to your relations an account of your misfortune
and illness. I found several letters, and among others, one
which I discovered from its commencement to be from your father.
I instantly wrote to Geneva. Nearly two months have elapsed
since the departure of my letter, But you are ill.
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Even now you tremble. You are unfit for agitation of
any kind. The suspense is the thousand times worse than
the most horrible event. Tell me what new scene of
death has been acted, and whose murder I am now
to lament. Your family is perfectly well, said mister Kirwin,
with gentleness, and some one a friend is come to
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visit you. I know not by what chain of thought
the idea presented itself, but it instantly darted into my
mind that the murderer had come to mock at my
misery and taught me with the death of Clerval as
a new incitement for me to comply with his hellish desires.
I put my hand before my eyes and cried out
in agony, Oh, take him away, I cannot see him.
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For God's sake, do not let him enter. Mister Kerwin
regarded me with a troubled countenance. He could not help
regarding my exclamation as a presumption of my guilt, and said,
in rather a severe tone. I should have thought, young man,
that the presence of your father would have been welcome
instead of inspiring such violent repugnance. My father, cried I,
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while every feature and every muscle was relaxed from anguish
to pleasure. Is my father indeed come? How kind? How
very kind? But where is he? Why does he not
hasten to me? My change of manner surprised and pleased
the magistrate. Perhaps he thought that my former exclamation was
a momentary return of delirium, and now he instantly resumed
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his former benevolence. He rose and quitted the room with
my nurse, and in a moment my father entered it.
Nothing at this moment could have given me greater pleasure
than the arrival of my father. I stretched out my
hand to him and cried, are you then safe? And
Elizabeth in earnest? My father calmed me with assurances of
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their welfare, and endeavored by dwelling on these subjects so
interesting to my heart to raise my desponding spirits. But
he soon felt that a prison cannot be the abode
of cheerfulness. What a place is this that you inhabit,
my son, said, he looking mournfully at the barred windows
and wretched appearance of the room. You travel to seek happiness,
but a fatality seems to pursue you, and poor Clerval,
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the name of my unfortunate and murdered friend was an
agitation too great to be endured in my weak state.
I shed tears alas yes, my father replied, I some
destiny of the most horrible kind hangs over me, and
I must live to fulfill it, or surely I should
have died on the coffin of Henry. We were not
allowed to converse for any length of time, for the
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precarious state of my health rendered every precaution necessary that
could insure tranquility. Mister Kirwin came in and insisted that
my strength should not be exhausted by too much exertion.
But the appearance of my father was to me like
that of my good angel, and I gradually recovered my health.
As my sickness quitted me, I was absorbed by a
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gloomy and black melancholy that nothing could dissipate. The image
of Clerval was forever before me, ghastly and murdered more
than once. The agitation into which these reflections threw me
made my friends dread a dangerous relapse, alas why did
they preserve so miserable and detested a life. It was
surely that I might fulfill my destiny, which is now
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drawing to a close. Soon, Oh very soon, will death
extinguish these throbbings and relieve me from the mighty weight
of anguish that bears me to the dust, and in
executing the award of justice, I shall also sink to rest.
Then the appearance of death was distant, although the wish
was ever present to my thoughts, and I often sat
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for hours, motionless and speechless, wishing for some mighty revolution
that might bury me and my destroyer in its ruins.
The season of the Asseses approached. I had already been
three months in prison, and although I was still weak
and in continual danger of a relapse, I was obliged
to travel nearly a hundred miles to the country town
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where the court was held. Mister Kirwin charged himself with
every care of collecting witnesses and arranging my defense. I
was spared the disgrace of appearing publicly as a criminal,
as the case was not brought before the court that
decides on life and death. The Grand Jury rejected the
bill on its being proved that I was on the
Orkney Islands at the hour the body of my friend
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was found, and a fortnight after my removal, I was
liberated from prison. My father was enraptured on finding me
freed from the vexations of a criminal charge, that I
was again allowed to breathe. The fresh atmosphere, and permitted
to return to my native country. I did not participate
in these feelings, for to me, the walls of a
dungeon or a palace were alike hateful. The cup of
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life was poisoned forever. And although the sun shone upon
me as upon the happy and gay of heart, I
saw around me nothing but a dense and frightful darkness,
penetrated by no light, but the glimmer of two eyes
that glared upon me. Sometimes they were the expressive eyes
of Henry languishing in death, the dark orbs nearly covered
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by the lids, and the long black lashes that fringed them.
Sometimes it was the watery, clouded eyes of the monster,
as I first saw them. In my chamber at Ingolstadt.
My father tried to awaken in me the feelings of affection.
He talked of Geneva, which I should soon visit, of
Elizabeth in earnest. But these words only drew deep groans
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from me. Sometimes, indeed, I felt a wish for happiness,
and thought with melancholy delight of my beloved cousin, or
longed with a devouring malady dupays to see once more
the blue lake and rapid roane that had been so
dear to me in early childhood. But my general state
of feeling was a torpor in which a prison was
as welcome a residence as the divinest scene in nature.
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And these fits were seldom interrupted but by paroxysms of
anguish and despair. At these moments, I often endeavored to
put an end to the existence I loathed, and it
required unceasing attendants and vigilance to restrain me from committing
some dreadful act of violence. Yet one duty remained to me,
the recollection of which finally triumphed over my selfish despair.
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It was necessary that I should return without delay to Geneva,
there to watch over the lives of those I so
fondly loved, and to lie in wait for the murderer,
that if any chance led me to the place of
his concealment, or if he dared again to blast me
by his presence, I might, with unfailing aim, put an
end to the existence of the monstrous image which I
had endued with the mockery of a soul still more monstrous.
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My father still desired to delay our departure, fearful that
I could not sustain the fatigues of a journey. For
I was a shattered wreck, the shadow of a human being.
My strength was gone. I was a mere skeleton, and
fever night and day preyed upon my wasted frame. Still
as I urged our leaving Ireland with such inquietude and impatience,
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my father thought it best to yield. We took our
passage on board a vessel bound for hav de Grass,
and sailed with a fair wind from the life Irish shores.
It was midnight. I lay on the deck, looking at
the stars and listening to the dashing of the waves.
I hailed the darkness that shut Ireland from my sight,
and my pulse beat with a feverish joy. When I
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reflected that I should soon see Geneva, the past appeared
to me in the light of a frightful dream. Yet
the vessel in which I was, the wind that blew
me from the detested shore of Ireland, and the sea
which surrounded me, told me too forcibly, that I was
deceived by no vision, and that Clerval, my friend and
dearest companion, had fallen a victim to me and the
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monster of my creation. I repassed in my memory, my
whole life, my quiet happiness. While residing with my family
in Geneva, the death of my mother and my departure
for Ingolstadt. I remembered, shuddering the mad enthusiasm that hurried
me on to the creation of my hideous enemy, and
I called to mind the night in which he first lived.
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I was unable to pursue the train of thought. A
thousand feelings pressed upon me, and I wept bitter. Ever
since my recovery from the fever, I had been in
the custom of taking every night a small quantity of laudanum,
for it was by means of this drug only that
I was enabled to gain the rest necessary for the
preservation of life. Oppressed by the recollection of my various misfortunes,
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I now swallowed double my usual quantity, and soon slept profoundly.
But sleep did not afford me respite from thought and misery.
My dreams presented a thousand objects that scared me. Towards morning,
I was possessed by a kind of nightmare. I felt
the fiends grasp in my neck and could not free
myself from it. Groans and cries rang in my ears.
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My father, who was watching over me, perceiving my restlessness,
awoke me. The dashing waves were around the cloudy sky above.
The fiend was not here. A sense of security, a
feeling that a truce was established between the present hour
and the irresistible, disastrous future, imparted to me, a kind
of calm forgetfulness of which the human mind mind is,
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by its structure, peculiarly susceptible. Chapter twenty two. The voyage
came to an end, We landed and proceeded to Paris.
I soon found that I have overtaxed my strength, and
that I must repose before I could continue my journey.
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My father's care and attentions were indefatigable, but he did
not know the origin of my sufferings, and sought erroneous
methods to remedy the incurable ill. He wished me to
seek amusement in society. I abhorred the face of man, oh,
not abhorred. They were my brethren, my fellow beings, and
I felt attracted to even the most repulsive among them,
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as to creatures of an angelic nature and celestial mechanism.
But I felt that I had no right to share
their intercourse. I had unchained an enemy among them whose
joy it was to shed their blood and to revel
in their groans. How they would each and all abhor
me and hunt me from the world. Did they know
my unhallowed acts and the crimes which had their source
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in me? My father yielded at length to my desire
to avoid society, and strove by various arguments to banish
my despair. Sometimes he thought that I felt deeply the
degradation of being obliged to answer a charge of murder,
and he endeavored to prove to me the futility of
pride Alas my father said, I, how little do you
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know me? Human beings, their feelings and passions, would indeed
be degraded if such a wretch as I felt pride Justine, poor,
unhappy Justine was as innocent as I, and she suffered
the same charge. She died for it, and I am
the cause of this. I murdered her, William, Justine, and Henry.
They all died by my hands. My father had often,
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during my imprisonment, heard me make the same assertion. When
I thus accused myself. He sometimes seemed to desire an explanation,
and did others He appeared to consider it as the
offspring of delirium, and that during my illness some idea
of this kind had presented itself to my imagination, the
remembrance of which I preserved in my convalescence. I avoided
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explanation and maintained a continual silence concerning the wretch I
had created. I had a persuasion that I should be
supposed mad, and this in itself would forever have chained
my tongue. But besides, I could not bring myself to
disclose a secret which would fill my hearer with consternation
and make fear and unnatural horror the inmates of his breast.
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I checked therefore my impatient thirst for sympathy, and was
silent when I would have given the world to have
confided the fatal secret. Yet still words like those I
have recorded would burst uncontrollably from me. I could offer
no explanation of them, but their truth in part relieved
the burden of my mysterious woe. Upon this occasion, my
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father said, with an expression of unbounded wonder, my dearest victor,
what infatuation is this? My dear son? I entreat you
never to make such an assertion again. I am not mad,
I cried energetically. The Son and the heavens, which have
viewed my operations, can bear witness of my truth. I
am the assassin of those most innocent victims. They died
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by my machinations. A thousand times. Would I have shed
my own blood, drop by drop to have saved their lives.
But I could not, my father, indeed, I could not
sacrifice the whole human race. The conclusion of this speech
convinced my father that my ideas were deranged, and he
instantly changed the subject of our conversation and endeavored to
alter the course of my thoughts. He wished as much
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as possible to obliterate the memory of the scenes that
had taken place in Ireland, and never alluded to them
or suffered me to speak of my misfortunes. As time
passed away, I became more calm. Misery had her dwelling
in my heart, but I no longer talked in the
same incoherent manner of my own crimes. Sufficient for me
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was the consciousness of them. By the utmost self violence,
I curbed the imperious voice of wretchedness, which sometimes desired
to declare itself to the whole world, and my manners
were calmer and more composed than they had ever been
since my journey to the Sea of Ice. A few
days before we left Paris on our way to Switzerland,
I received the following letter from Elizabeth, my dear friend.
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It gave me the greatest pleasure to receive a letter
from my uncle dated at Paris. You are no longer
at a formidable distance, and I may hope to see
you in less than a fortnight, My poor cousin, how
much you must have suffered. I expect to see you
looking even more ill than when you quitted Geneva. This
winter has been passed most miserably, tortured as I have been,
by anxious suspense. Yet I hope to see peace in
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your countenance, and to find that your heart is not
totally void of comfort and tranquility. Yet I fear that
the same feelings now exist that made you so miserable
a year ago, even perhaps augmented by time. I would
not disturb you at this period, when and so many
misfortunes weigh upon you. But a conversation that I had
with my uncle previous to his departure renders some explanation necessary.
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Before we meet explanation, You may possibly say, what can
Elizabeth have to explain? If you really say this, my
questions are answered and all my doubts satisfied. But you
are distant from me, and it is possible that you
may dread and yet be pleased with this explanation. And
in a probability of this being the case, I dare
not any longer postpone writing what during your absence I
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have often wished to express to you, but have never
had that courage to begin. You well know, Victor, that
our union had been the favorite plan of your parents
ever since our infancy. We were told this when young,
and taught to look forward to it as an event
that would certainly take place. We were affectionate playfellows during childhood,
and I believe dear and valued friends to one another
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as we grew older. But as brother and sister often
entertain a lively affection towards each other without desiring a
more intimate union. May not such also be our case?
Tell me, dearest, dictor answer me. I conjure you by
our mutual happiness with simple truth? Do you not love another?
You have traveled, You have spent several years of your
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life at englishtadt. And I confess to you, my friend,
that when I saw you last autumn, so unhappy, flying
to solitude from the society of every creature, I could
not help supposing that you might regret our connection and
believe yourself bound in honor to fulfill the wishes of
your parents, although they opposed themselves to your inclinations. But
this is false reasoning. I confess to you, my friend,
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that I love you, and that in my airy dreams
of futurity, you have been my constant friend and companion.
But it is your happiness I desire as well as
my own when I declare to you that our marriage
would render me eternally miserable unless it were the dictate
of your own free choice. Even now I weep to
think that, borne down as you are by the cruelest misfortunes,
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you may stifle by the word honor, all hope of
that love and happiness which would alone restore you to yourself. I,
who have so disinterested an affection for you, may increase
your miseries tenfold by being an obstacle to your wishes. Ah, Victor,
be assured that your cousin and playmate has too sincere
a love for you not to be made miserable by
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this supposition. Be happy, my friend, And if you obey
me in this one request, remain satisfied that nothing on
earth will have the power to interrupt my tranquility. Do
not let this letter disturb you. Do not answer tomorrow
or the next day, or even until you come. If
it will give you pain. My uncle will send me
news of your health. And if I see but one
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smile on your lips when we meet, occasioned by this
or any other exertion of mine, I shall need no
other happiness. Elizabeth Livenza Geneva, May eighteenth, seventeen blank. This
letter revived in my memory what I had before forgotten,
the threat of the fiend. I will be with you
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on your wedding night, Such was my sentence. And on
that night would the demon employ every art to destroy
me and tear me from the glimpse of happiness which
promised partly to console my sufferings. On that night he
determined to consummate his crimes by my death. Well be
it so. A deadly struggle would then assuredly take place,
(29:18):
in which, if he were victorious, I should be at
peace and his power over me be at an end.
If he were vanquished, I should be a free man,
alas what freedom such as the peasant enjoys when his
family have been massacred before his eyes, his cottage burnt,
his lands laid waste, and he is turned adrift, homeless, penniless,
and alone. But free. Such would be my liberty, except
(29:42):
that in my Elizabeth I possessed a treasure alas balanced
by those horrors of remorse and guilt, which would pursue
me until death. Sweet and beloved Elizabeth, I read and
re read her letter, and some softened feeling stole into
my heart, and dared to whisper paradisiacal dreams of love
and joy. But the apple was already eaten, and the
(30:04):
angel's arm bared to drive me from all hope. Yet
I would die to make her happy. If the monster
executed his threat, death was inevitable. Yet again I considered
whether my marriage would hasten my fate. My destruction might
indeed arrive a few months sooner. But if my torturer
should suspect that I postponed it, influenced by his menaces,
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he would surely find other, and perhaps more dreadful means
of revenge. He had vowed to be with me on
my wedding night, Yet he did not consider that threat
as binding him to peace in the meantime, for as
if to show me that he was not yet satiated
with blood, he had murdered Clerval immediately after the enunciation
of his threats. I resolved therefore, that if my immediate
(30:49):
union with my cousin would conduce either to hers or
my father's happiness, my adversary's designs against my life should
not retard it a single hour. In this state of mind,
I wrote to Elizabeth. My letter was calm and affectionate.
I fear, my beloved girl, I said, little happiness remains
(31:11):
for us on earth, Yet all that I may one
day enjoy is centered in you. Chase away your idle fears.
To you alone, do I consecrate my life and my
endeavors for contentment. I have one secret, Elizabeth, a dreadful one.
When revealed to you, it will chill your frame with horror,
and then, far from being surprised at my misery, you
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will only wonder that I survive what I have endured.
I will confide this tale of misery and terror to you.
The day after our marriage shall take place. For my
sweet cousin, there must be perfect confidence between us. But
until then I conjure you do not mention or allude
to it. This I most earnestly entreat, and I know
you will comply. In about a week after the arrival
(31:58):
of Elizabeth's letter, we return to Geneva. The sweet girl
welcomed me with warm affection, yet tears were in her
eyes as she beheld my emaciated frame and feverish cheeks.
I saw a change in her also. She was thinner
and had lost much of that heavenly vivacity that had
before charmed me. But her gentleness and soft looks of
compassion made her a morphic companion for one blasted and
(32:20):
miserable as I was. The tranquility which I now enjoy
did not endure. Memory brought madness with it, and when
I thought of what had passed, a real insanity possessed me.
Sometimes I was furious and burnt with rage. Sometimes low
and despondent, I neither spoke nor looked at any one,
but sat motionless, bewildered by the multitude of miseries that
(32:43):
overcame me. Elizabeth alone had the power to draw me
from these fits. Her gentle voice would soothe me when
transported by passion, and inspire me with human feelings. When
sunk in torpor, she wept with me and for me.
When reason returned, she would remonstrate and endeavor to inspire
me with the resignation. Ah, it is well for the
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unfortunate to be resigned, But for the guilty there is
no peace. The agonies of remorse poison the luxury there
is otherwise sometimes found in indulging the excess of grief.
Soon after my arrival, my father spoke of my immediate
marriage with Elizabeth. I remain silent, Have you, then, some
(33:26):
other attachment? None on earth? I love Elizabeth and look
forward to our union with delight. Let the day therefore
be fixed, and on it I will consecrate myself, in
life or death, to the happiness of my cousin. My
dear Victor, do not speak thus. Heavy misfortunes have befallen us.
But let us only cling closer to what remains, and
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transfer our love for those whom we have lost to
those who yet live. Our circle will be small, but
bound close by the ties of affection and mutual misfortune.
And when time shall have softened your despair, youw and
dear objects of care will be borne to replace those
of whom we have been so cruelly deprived. Such were
the lessons of my father. But to me the remembrance
(34:10):
of the threat returned. Nor can you wonder that omnipotent
as the Fiend had yet been in his deeds of blood,
I should almost regard him as invincible, and that, when
he had pronounced the words I shall be with you
on your wedding night, I should regard the threatened fate
as unavoidable. But death was no evil to me if
the loss of Elizabeth were balanced with it, And I, therefore,
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with a contented and even cheerful countenance, agreed with my
father that if my cousin would consent, the ceremony should
take place in ten days, and thus put, as I imagined,
the seal to my fate. Great God, if for one
instant I had thought what might be the hellish intention
of my fiendish adversary, I would rather have banished myself
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forever from my native country and wandered a friendless outcast
over the earth than have consented to this miserable marriage.
But as if possessed of magic powers, the monster had
blinded me to his real intentions. And when I thought
that I had prepared only my own death, I hastened
that of a far dearer victim. As the period fixed
(35:15):
for our marriage drew nearer, whether from cowardice or of
prophetic feeling, I felt my heart sink within me. But
I concealed my feelings by an appearance of hilarity that
brought smiles and joy to the countenance of my father,
but hardly deceived the ever watchful and nicer eye of Elizabeth.
She looked forward to our union with placid contentment, not
(35:37):
unmingled with the little fear which past misfortunes had impressed,
that what now appeared certain and tangible happiness might soon
dissipate into an airy dream and leave no trace but
deep and everlasting regret. Preparations were made for the event,
congratulatory visits were received, and all war of smiling appearance,
(35:57):
I shut up as well as I could in my
own heart the anxiety that preyed there and entered with
seeming earnestness into the plans of my father, although they
might only serve as the decorations of my tragedy. Through
my father's exertions, a part of the inheritance of Elizabeth
had been restored to her by the Austrian government. A
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small possession on the shores of Como belonged to her.
It was agreed that immediately after our union we should
proceed to Villa la Venza and spend our first days
of happiness beside the beautiful lake near which it stood.
In the meantime, I took every precaution to defend my
person in case the fiend should openly attack me. I
carried pistols and a dagger constantly about me, and was
(36:40):
ever on the watch to prevent artifice, and by these
means gained a greater degree of tranquility. Indeed, as the
period approached, the threat appeared more as a delusion, not
to be regarded as worthy to disturb my peace, while
the happiness I hoped for in my marriage wore a
greater appearance of certainty. As the day fixed for its
solemnization drew nearer, and I heard it continually spoken of
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as an occurrence which no accident could possibly prevent. Elizabeth
seemed happy my tranquil demeanor contributed greatly to calm her mind.
But on the day that was to fulfill my wishes
and my destiny, she was melancholy, and a presentiment of
evil pervaded her. And perhaps also she thought of the
dreadful secret which I had promised to reveal to her
(37:25):
on the following day. My father was, in the meantime
overjoyed and in the bustle of preparation, only recognized in
the melancholy of his niece the diffidence of a bride.
After the ceremony was performed, a large party assembled at
my father's but it was agreed that Elizabeth and I
should commence our journey by water, sleeping that night at
(37:46):
Evian and continuing our voyage on the following day. The
day was fair, the wind favorable. All smiled on our
nuptial embarkation. Those were the last moments of my life
during which I enjoyed the feeling of happiness. We passed
rapidly along. The sun was hot, but we were sheltered
(38:06):
from its rays by a kind of canopy, while we
enjoyed the beauty of the scene. Sometimes on one side
of the lake, where we saw Mount Salaive, the pleasant
banks of Montalegre, and at a distance, surmounting all the
beautiful mont Blanc and the assemblage of snowy mountains that
in vain endeavor to emulate her. Sometimes coasting the opposite banks,
we saw the mighty Jura opposing its dark side to
(38:28):
the ambition that would quit its native country, and an
almost insurmountable barrier to the invader who should wish to
enslave it. I took the hand of Elizabeth. You are sorrowful,
my love. Ah. If you knew what I have suffered
and what I may yet endure, you would endeavor to
let me taste the quiet and freedom from despair that
this one day at least permits me to enjoy. Be happy,
(38:51):
My dear Victor replied Elizabeth. There is, I hope nothing
to distress you. And be assured that if a lively
joy is not painted in my face, my heart is contented.
Something whispers to me not to depend too much on
the prospect that is opened before us. But I will
not listen to such a sinister voice. Observe how fast
we move along, and how the clouds which sometimes obscure
(39:14):
and sometimes rise above the dome of mont Blanc, render
this scene of beauty. Still more interesting, look also at
the innumerable fish that are swimming in the clear waters,
where we can distinguish every pebble that lies at the bottom.
What a divine day, how happy and serene all nature appears.
Thus Elizabeth endeavored to divert her thoughts in mine from
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all reflection upon melancholy subjects. But her temper was fluctuating.
Joy for a few instants shown in her eyes, but
it continually gave place to distraction and reverie. The sun
sank lower in the heavens. We passed the river Drance
and observed its path through the chasms of the higher
and the glens of the lower hills. The Alps here
(39:57):
come closer to the lake, and we approached the Amphith
theater of mountains, which formed its eastern boundary. The spire
of Evian shone under the woods that surrounded it, and
the range of mountain above mountain by which it was overhung.
The wind, which had hitherto carried us along with amazing rapidity,
sank at sunset to a light breeze. The soft air
(40:19):
just ruffled the water and caused a pleasant motion among
the trees. As we approached the shore, from which it
wafted the most delightful scent of flowers and hay. The
sun sank beneath the horizon as we landed, and as
I touched the shore, I felt those cares and fears revive,
which soon were to clasp me and cling to me forever.
(40:41):
End of Chapter twenty two, recorded October sixteenth, two thousand five,
in Longmont, Colorado,
This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in
the public domain. For more information, please visit LibriVox dot
Blogsam dot com. This recording by Mark Bradford Frankenstein by
Mary Shelley, Chapter twenty one. I was soon introduced into
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the presence of the Magistrate, an old, benevolent man with
calm and mild manners. He looked upon me, however, with
some degree of severity, and then turning towards my conductors,
he asked who appeared as witnesses on this occasion. About
half a dozen men came forward, and one being selected
by the magistrate. He deposed that he had been out
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fishing the night before with his son and brother in law,
Daniel Nugent, when about ten o'clock they observed a strong
northerly blast rising, and they accordingly put in for port.
It was a very dark night, as the moon had
not yet risen. They did not land at the harbor,
but as they had been accustomed, at a creek about
(01:08):
two miles below. He walked on first, carrying a part
of the fishing tackle, and his companions followed him at
some distance. As he was proceeding along the sands. He
struck his foot against something and fell at his length
on the ground. His companions came up to assist him,
and by the light of their lantern, they found that
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he had fallen on the body of a man who
was to all appearance dead. Their first supposition was that
it was the corpse of some person who had been
drowned and was thrown on shore by the waves. But
on examination they found that the clothes were not wet,
and even that the body was not then cold. They
instantly carried it to the cottage of an old woman
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near the spot, and endeavored, but in vain, to restore
it to life. It appeared to be a handsome young
man about five and twenty years of age. He had
apparently been strangled, for there was no sign of any violence,
except the black mark of fingers on his neck. The
first part of this deposition did not in the least
(02:11):
interest me, But when the mark of the fingers was mentioned,
I remembered the murder of my brother and felt myself
extremely agitated. My limbs trembled, and a mist came over
my eyes, which obliged me to lean on a chair
for support. The magistrate observed me with a keen eye,
and of course drew an unfavorable augury from my manner.
(02:33):
The son confirmed his father's account, but when Daniel Nugent
was called, he swore positively that just before the fall
of his companion, he saw a boat with a single
man in it, at a short distance from the shore,
and as far as he could judge by the light
of a few stars, it was the same boat in
which I had just landed. A woman deposed that she
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lived near the beach and was standing at the door
of her cottage waiting for the return of the fisherman
about an hour hour before she heard of the discovery
of the body, when she saw a boat with only
one man in it push off from that part of
the shore where the corpse was afterwards found. Another woman
confirmed the account of the fishermen, having brought the body
(03:14):
into her house. It was not cold. They put it
into a bed and rubbed it, and Daniel went to
the town for an apothecary, but life was quite gone.
Several other men were examined concerning my landing, and they
agreed that with the strong north wind that had arisen
during the night, it was very probable that I had
beaten about for many hours, and had been obliged to
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return nearly to the same spot from which I had departed. Besides,
they observed that it appeared that I had brought the
body from another place, and it was likely that, as
I did not appear to know the shore, I might
have put into the harbor, ignorant of the distance of
the town of Blank from the place where I had
deposited the corpse. Mister Kirwin, on hearing this evidence, desired
(03:59):
that I should be taken into the room where the
body lay for interment, that it might be observed what
effect the sight of it would produce upon me. This
idea was probably suggested by the extreme agitation I had
exhibited when the mode of the murder had been described.
I was accordingly conducted by the magistrate and several other
persons to the inn. I could not help being struck
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by the strange coincidences that had taken place during this
eventful night. But knowing that I had been conversing with
several persons in the island I had inhabited about the
time that the body had been found, I was perfectly
tranquil as to the consequences of the affair. I entered
the room where the corpse lay, and was led up
to the coffin. How can I describe my sensations on
(04:43):
beholding it. I feel yet parched with horror, Nor can
I reflect on that terrible moment without shuddering and agony.
The examination, the presence of the magistrate and witnesses, passed
like a dream from my memory. When I saw the
lifeless form of Henry Clerval stretched by for me, I
gasped for breath, and throwing myself on the body, I exclaimed,
(05:06):
have my murderous machinations deprived you also, my dearest Henry
of life two. I have already destroyed other victims await
their destiny, but you Clerval, my friend, my benefactor. The
human frame could no longer support the agonies that I endured,
and I was carried out of the room in strong convulsions.
(05:27):
A fever succeeded to this. I lay for two months
on the point of death. My ravings, as I afterward heard,
were frightful. I called myself the murderer of William, of
Justine and of Clerval. Sometimes I entreated my attendants to
assist me in the destruction of the fiend by whom
I was tormented, and at others I felt the fingers
of the monster already grasping my neck, and screamed aloud
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with agony and terror. Fortunately, as I spoke my native language,
mister Kirwin alone understood me. But my gestures and bitter
cries were sufficient to affronight the other witnesses. Why did
I not die more miserable than man ever was before?
Why did I not sink into forgetfulness and rest? Death
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snatches away many blooming children, the only hopes of their
doting parents. How many brides and youthful lovers have been
one day in the bloom of health and hope, and
the next a prey for worms in the decay of
the tomb? Of what materials was I made that I
could thus resist so many shocks, which, like the turning
of the wheel, continually renewed the torture. But I was
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doomed to live, and in two months found myself as
awaking from a dream in a prison, stretched on a
wretched bed, surrounded by jailers, turnkeys, bolts, and all the
miserable apparatus of a dungeon. It was morning, I remember,
when I thus awoke to understanding. I had forgotten the
particulars of what had happened, and only felt as if
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some great misfortune had suddenly overwhelmed me. But when I
looked around and saw the barred windows, the squalidness of
the room in which I was all flashed across my memory,
and I groaned bitterly. This sound disturbed an old woman
who was sleeping in a chair beside me. She was
a hired nurse, the wife of one of the turnkeys,
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and her countenance expressed all those bad qualities which often
characterized that class. The lines of her face were hard
and rude, like that of persons accustomed to see without
sympathizing in sights of misery. Her tone expressed her entire indifference.
She addressed me in English, and the voice struck me
as one that I had heard during my sufferings. Are
(07:36):
you better now, sir? Said she? I replied, in the
same language, with a feeble voice. I believe I am.
But if it be all true, if indeed I did
not dream, I am sorry that I am still alive
to feel this misery and horror. For that matter, replied
the old woman. If you mean about the gentleman you murdered.
(07:57):
I believe that it were better for you if you
were dead, for I fancy it will go hard with you. However,
that's none of my business. I am sent to nurse
you and get you well. I do my duty with
a safe conscience. It were well if everybody did the same.
I turned with loathing from the woman who could utter
so unfeeling a speech to a person just saved on
the very edge of death. But I felt languid and
(08:20):
unable to reflect on all that had passed. The whole
series of my life appeared to me as a dream.
I sometimes doubted if indeed it were all true, for
it never presented itself to my mind with the force
of reality. As the images that floated before me became
more distinct, I grew feverish. A darkness pressed around me.
(08:40):
No one was near me who soothed me with a
gentle voice of love. No dear hand supported me. The
physician came and prescribed medicines, and the old woman prepared
them for me. But utter carelessness was visible in the first,
and the expression of brutality was strongly marked in the
visage of the second. Who could be interested in the
fate of a murderer, but the hangman who would gain
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his fee. These were my first reflections, but I soon
learned that mister Kirwin had shown me extreme kindness. He
had caused the best room in the prison to be
prepared for me. Wretched indeed was the best, and it
was he who had provided a physician and a nurse.
It is true he seldom came to see me, for
although he ardently desired to relieve the sufferings of every
(09:22):
human creature, he did not wish to be present at
the agonies and miserable ravings of a murderer. He came,
therefore sometimes to see that I was not neglected, but
his visits were short and with long intervals. One day,
while I was gradually recovering, I was seated in a chair,
my eyes half open and my cheeks livid, like those
in death. I was overcome by gloom and misery, and
(09:45):
often reflected I had better seek death than desire to
remain in a world which to me was replete with wretchedness.
At one time I considered whether I should not declare
myself guilty and suffer the penalty of the law less
innocent than poorja Estine had been such were my thoughts.
When the door of my apartment was opened and mister
Kirwin entered, his countenance expressed sympathy and compassion. He drew
(10:10):
a chair close to mine and addressed me in French.
I fear that this place is very shocking to you.
Can I do anything to make you more comfortable? I
thank you, But all that you mention is nothing to me.
On the whole earth, there is no comfort which I
am capable of receiving. I know that the sympathy of
a stranger can be of but of little relief to
(10:31):
one born down as you are by so strange a misfortune.
But you will, I hope, soon quit this melancholy abode,
for doubtless evidence can easily be brought to free you
from the criminal charge. That is my least concern. I am,
by a course of strange events, become the most miserable
of mortals, persecuted and tortured as I am and have been.
(10:52):
Can death be any evil to me? Nothing, indeed, could
be more unfortunate and agonizing than the strange chances that
have lately occurred. You were thrown by some surprising accident
on this shore, renowned for its hospitality, seized immediately and
charged with murder. The first sight that was presented to
your eyes was the body of your friend, murdered in
(11:12):
so unaccountable a manner, and placed as it were, by
some fiend across your path. As mister Kirwin said this,
notwithstanding the agitation I endured on this retrospect of my sufferings,
I also felt considerable surprise at the knowledge she seemed
to possess concerning me. I suppose some astonishment was exhibited
in my countenance, for mister Kirwin hastened to say, immediately
(11:35):
upon your being taken ill, all the papers that were
on your person were brought to me, and I examined
them that I might discover some trace by which I
could send to your relations an account of your misfortune
and illness. I found several letters, and among others, one
which I discovered from its commencement to be from your father.
I instantly wrote to Geneva. Nearly two months have elapsed
since the departure of my letter, But you are ill.
(11:58):
Even now you tremble. You are unfit for agitation of
any kind. The suspense is the thousand times worse than
the most horrible event. Tell me what new scene of
death has been acted, and whose murder I am now
to lament. Your family is perfectly well, said mister Kirwin,
with gentleness, and some one a friend is come to
(12:19):
visit you. I know not by what chain of thought
the idea presented itself, but it instantly darted into my
mind that the murderer had come to mock at my
misery and taught me with the death of Clerval as
a new incitement for me to comply with his hellish desires.
I put my hand before my eyes and cried out
in agony, Oh, take him away, I cannot see him.
(12:41):
For God's sake, do not let him enter. Mister Kerwin
regarded me with a troubled countenance. He could not help
regarding my exclamation as a presumption of my guilt, and said,
in rather a severe tone. I should have thought, young man,
that the presence of your father would have been welcome
instead of inspiring such violent repugnance. My father, cried I,
(13:01):
while every feature and every muscle was relaxed from anguish
to pleasure. Is my father indeed come? How kind? How
very kind? But where is he? Why does he not
hasten to me? My change of manner surprised and pleased
the magistrate. Perhaps he thought that my former exclamation was
a momentary return of delirium, and now he instantly resumed
(13:21):
his former benevolence. He rose and quitted the room with
my nurse, and in a moment my father entered it.
Nothing at this moment could have given me greater pleasure
than the arrival of my father. I stretched out my
hand to him and cried, are you then safe? And
Elizabeth in earnest? My father calmed me with assurances of
(13:42):
their welfare, and endeavored by dwelling on these subjects so
interesting to my heart to raise my desponding spirits. But
he soon felt that a prison cannot be the abode
of cheerfulness. What a place is this that you inhabit,
my son, said, he looking mournfully at the barred windows
and wretched appearance of the room. You travel to seek happiness,
but a fatality seems to pursue you, and poor Clerval,
(14:06):
the name of my unfortunate and murdered friend was an
agitation too great to be endured in my weak state.
I shed tears alas yes, my father replied, I some
destiny of the most horrible kind hangs over me, and
I must live to fulfill it, or surely I should
have died on the coffin of Henry. We were not
allowed to converse for any length of time, for the
(14:29):
precarious state of my health rendered every precaution necessary that
could insure tranquility. Mister Kirwin came in and insisted that
my strength should not be exhausted by too much exertion.
But the appearance of my father was to me like
that of my good angel, and I gradually recovered my health.
As my sickness quitted me, I was absorbed by a
(14:50):
gloomy and black melancholy that nothing could dissipate. The image
of Clerval was forever before me, ghastly and murdered more
than once. The agitation into which these reflections threw me
made my friends dread a dangerous relapse, alas why did
they preserve so miserable and detested a life. It was
surely that I might fulfill my destiny, which is now
(15:11):
drawing to a close. Soon, Oh very soon, will death
extinguish these throbbings and relieve me from the mighty weight
of anguish that bears me to the dust, and in
executing the award of justice, I shall also sink to rest.
Then the appearance of death was distant, although the wish
was ever present to my thoughts, and I often sat
(15:32):
for hours, motionless and speechless, wishing for some mighty revolution
that might bury me and my destroyer in its ruins.
The season of the Asseses approached. I had already been
three months in prison, and although I was still weak
and in continual danger of a relapse, I was obliged
to travel nearly a hundred miles to the country town
(15:52):
where the court was held. Mister Kirwin charged himself with
every care of collecting witnesses and arranging my defense. I
was spared the disgrace of appearing publicly as a criminal,
as the case was not brought before the court that
decides on life and death. The Grand Jury rejected the
bill on its being proved that I was on the
Orkney Islands at the hour the body of my friend
(16:14):
was found, and a fortnight after my removal, I was
liberated from prison. My father was enraptured on finding me
freed from the vexations of a criminal charge, that I
was again allowed to breathe. The fresh atmosphere, and permitted
to return to my native country. I did not participate
in these feelings, for to me, the walls of a
dungeon or a palace were alike hateful. The cup of
(16:37):
life was poisoned forever. And although the sun shone upon
me as upon the happy and gay of heart, I
saw around me nothing but a dense and frightful darkness,
penetrated by no light, but the glimmer of two eyes
that glared upon me. Sometimes they were the expressive eyes
of Henry languishing in death, the dark orbs nearly covered
(16:58):
by the lids, and the long black lashes that fringed them.
Sometimes it was the watery, clouded eyes of the monster,
as I first saw them. In my chamber at Ingolstadt.
My father tried to awaken in me the feelings of affection.
He talked of Geneva, which I should soon visit, of
Elizabeth in earnest. But these words only drew deep groans
(17:21):
from me. Sometimes, indeed, I felt a wish for happiness,
and thought with melancholy delight of my beloved cousin, or
longed with a devouring malady dupays to see once more
the blue lake and rapid roane that had been so
dear to me in early childhood. But my general state
of feeling was a torpor in which a prison was
as welcome a residence as the divinest scene in nature.
(17:44):
And these fits were seldom interrupted but by paroxysms of
anguish and despair. At these moments, I often endeavored to
put an end to the existence I loathed, and it
required unceasing attendants and vigilance to restrain me from committing
some dreadful act of violence. Yet one duty remained to me,
the recollection of which finally triumphed over my selfish despair.
(18:06):
It was necessary that I should return without delay to Geneva,
there to watch over the lives of those I so
fondly loved, and to lie in wait for the murderer,
that if any chance led me to the place of
his concealment, or if he dared again to blast me
by his presence, I might, with unfailing aim, put an
end to the existence of the monstrous image which I
had endued with the mockery of a soul still more monstrous.
(18:31):
My father still desired to delay our departure, fearful that
I could not sustain the fatigues of a journey. For
I was a shattered wreck, the shadow of a human being.
My strength was gone. I was a mere skeleton, and
fever night and day preyed upon my wasted frame. Still
as I urged our leaving Ireland with such inquietude and impatience,
(18:52):
my father thought it best to yield. We took our
passage on board a vessel bound for hav de Grass,
and sailed with a fair wind from the life Irish shores.
It was midnight. I lay on the deck, looking at
the stars and listening to the dashing of the waves.
I hailed the darkness that shut Ireland from my sight,
and my pulse beat with a feverish joy. When I
(19:12):
reflected that I should soon see Geneva, the past appeared
to me in the light of a frightful dream. Yet
the vessel in which I was, the wind that blew
me from the detested shore of Ireland, and the sea
which surrounded me, told me too forcibly, that I was
deceived by no vision, and that Clerval, my friend and
dearest companion, had fallen a victim to me and the
(19:33):
monster of my creation. I repassed in my memory, my
whole life, my quiet happiness. While residing with my family
in Geneva, the death of my mother and my departure
for Ingolstadt. I remembered, shuddering the mad enthusiasm that hurried
me on to the creation of my hideous enemy, and
I called to mind the night in which he first lived.
(19:54):
I was unable to pursue the train of thought. A
thousand feelings pressed upon me, and I wept bitter. Ever
since my recovery from the fever, I had been in
the custom of taking every night a small quantity of laudanum,
for it was by means of this drug only that
I was enabled to gain the rest necessary for the
preservation of life. Oppressed by the recollection of my various misfortunes,
(20:16):
I now swallowed double my usual quantity, and soon slept profoundly.
But sleep did not afford me respite from thought and misery.
My dreams presented a thousand objects that scared me. Towards morning,
I was possessed by a kind of nightmare. I felt
the fiends grasp in my neck and could not free
myself from it. Groans and cries rang in my ears.
(20:39):
My father, who was watching over me, perceiving my restlessness,
awoke me. The dashing waves were around the cloudy sky above.
The fiend was not here. A sense of security, a
feeling that a truce was established between the present hour
and the irresistible, disastrous future, imparted to me, a kind
of calm forgetfulness of which the human mind mind is,
(21:00):
by its structure, peculiarly susceptible. Chapter twenty two. The voyage
came to an end, We landed and proceeded to Paris.
I soon found that I have overtaxed my strength, and
that I must repose before I could continue my journey.
(21:20):
My father's care and attentions were indefatigable, but he did
not know the origin of my sufferings, and sought erroneous
methods to remedy the incurable ill. He wished me to
seek amusement in society. I abhorred the face of man, oh,
not abhorred. They were my brethren, my fellow beings, and
I felt attracted to even the most repulsive among them,
(21:42):
as to creatures of an angelic nature and celestial mechanism.
But I felt that I had no right to share
their intercourse. I had unchained an enemy among them whose
joy it was to shed their blood and to revel
in their groans. How they would each and all abhor
me and hunt me from the world. Did they know
my unhallowed acts and the crimes which had their source
(22:03):
in me? My father yielded at length to my desire
to avoid society, and strove by various arguments to banish
my despair. Sometimes he thought that I felt deeply the
degradation of being obliged to answer a charge of murder,
and he endeavored to prove to me the futility of
pride Alas my father said, I, how little do you
(22:25):
know me? Human beings, their feelings and passions, would indeed
be degraded if such a wretch as I felt pride Justine, poor,
unhappy Justine was as innocent as I, and she suffered
the same charge. She died for it, and I am
the cause of this. I murdered her, William, Justine, and Henry.
They all died by my hands. My father had often,
(22:49):
during my imprisonment, heard me make the same assertion. When
I thus accused myself. He sometimes seemed to desire an explanation,
and did others He appeared to consider it as the
offspring of delirium, and that during my illness some idea
of this kind had presented itself to my imagination, the
remembrance of which I preserved in my convalescence. I avoided
(23:11):
explanation and maintained a continual silence concerning the wretch I
had created. I had a persuasion that I should be
supposed mad, and this in itself would forever have chained
my tongue. But besides, I could not bring myself to
disclose a secret which would fill my hearer with consternation
and make fear and unnatural horror the inmates of his breast.
(23:34):
I checked therefore my impatient thirst for sympathy, and was
silent when I would have given the world to have
confided the fatal secret. Yet still words like those I
have recorded would burst uncontrollably from me. I could offer
no explanation of them, but their truth in part relieved
the burden of my mysterious woe. Upon this occasion, my
(23:55):
father said, with an expression of unbounded wonder, my dearest victor,
what infatuation is this? My dear son? I entreat you
never to make such an assertion again. I am not mad,
I cried energetically. The Son and the heavens, which have
viewed my operations, can bear witness of my truth. I
am the assassin of those most innocent victims. They died
(24:17):
by my machinations. A thousand times. Would I have shed
my own blood, drop by drop to have saved their lives.
But I could not, my father, indeed, I could not
sacrifice the whole human race. The conclusion of this speech
convinced my father that my ideas were deranged, and he
instantly changed the subject of our conversation and endeavored to
alter the course of my thoughts. He wished as much
(24:39):
as possible to obliterate the memory of the scenes that
had taken place in Ireland, and never alluded to them
or suffered me to speak of my misfortunes. As time
passed away, I became more calm. Misery had her dwelling
in my heart, but I no longer talked in the
same incoherent manner of my own crimes. Sufficient for me
(25:00):
was the consciousness of them. By the utmost self violence,
I curbed the imperious voice of wretchedness, which sometimes desired
to declare itself to the whole world, and my manners
were calmer and more composed than they had ever been
since my journey to the Sea of Ice. A few
days before we left Paris on our way to Switzerland,
I received the following letter from Elizabeth, my dear friend.
(25:24):
It gave me the greatest pleasure to receive a letter
from my uncle dated at Paris. You are no longer
at a formidable distance, and I may hope to see
you in less than a fortnight, My poor cousin, how
much you must have suffered. I expect to see you
looking even more ill than when you quitted Geneva. This
winter has been passed most miserably, tortured as I have been,
by anxious suspense. Yet I hope to see peace in
(25:45):
your countenance, and to find that your heart is not
totally void of comfort and tranquility. Yet I fear that
the same feelings now exist that made you so miserable
a year ago, even perhaps augmented by time. I would
not disturb you at this period, when and so many
misfortunes weigh upon you. But a conversation that I had
with my uncle previous to his departure renders some explanation necessary.
(26:07):
Before we meet explanation, You may possibly say, what can
Elizabeth have to explain? If you really say this, my
questions are answered and all my doubts satisfied. But you
are distant from me, and it is possible that you
may dread and yet be pleased with this explanation. And
in a probability of this being the case, I dare
not any longer postpone writing what during your absence I
(26:29):
have often wished to express to you, but have never
had that courage to begin. You well know, Victor, that
our union had been the favorite plan of your parents
ever since our infancy. We were told this when young,
and taught to look forward to it as an event
that would certainly take place. We were affectionate playfellows during childhood,
and I believe dear and valued friends to one another
(26:51):
as we grew older. But as brother and sister often
entertain a lively affection towards each other without desiring a
more intimate union. May not such also be our case?
Tell me, dearest, dictor answer me. I conjure you by
our mutual happiness with simple truth? Do you not love another?
You have traveled, You have spent several years of your
(27:11):
life at englishtadt. And I confess to you, my friend,
that when I saw you last autumn, so unhappy, flying
to solitude from the society of every creature, I could
not help supposing that you might regret our connection and
believe yourself bound in honor to fulfill the wishes of
your parents, although they opposed themselves to your inclinations. But
this is false reasoning. I confess to you, my friend,
(27:32):
that I love you, and that in my airy dreams
of futurity, you have been my constant friend and companion.
But it is your happiness I desire as well as
my own when I declare to you that our marriage
would render me eternally miserable unless it were the dictate
of your own free choice. Even now I weep to
think that, borne down as you are by the cruelest misfortunes,
(27:53):
you may stifle by the word honor, all hope of
that love and happiness which would alone restore you to yourself. I,
who have so disinterested an affection for you, may increase
your miseries tenfold by being an obstacle to your wishes. Ah, Victor,
be assured that your cousin and playmate has too sincere
a love for you not to be made miserable by
(28:13):
this supposition. Be happy, my friend, And if you obey
me in this one request, remain satisfied that nothing on
earth will have the power to interrupt my tranquility. Do
not let this letter disturb you. Do not answer tomorrow
or the next day, or even until you come. If
it will give you pain. My uncle will send me
news of your health. And if I see but one
(28:34):
smile on your lips when we meet, occasioned by this
or any other exertion of mine, I shall need no
other happiness. Elizabeth Livenza Geneva, May eighteenth, seventeen blank. This
letter revived in my memory what I had before forgotten,
the threat of the fiend. I will be with you
(28:56):
on your wedding night, Such was my sentence. And on
that night would the demon employ every art to destroy
me and tear me from the glimpse of happiness which
promised partly to console my sufferings. On that night he
determined to consummate his crimes by my death. Well be
it so. A deadly struggle would then assuredly take place,
(29:18):
in which, if he were victorious, I should be at
peace and his power over me be at an end.
If he were vanquished, I should be a free man,
alas what freedom such as the peasant enjoys when his
family have been massacred before his eyes, his cottage burnt,
his lands laid waste, and he is turned adrift, homeless, penniless,
and alone. But free. Such would be my liberty, except
(29:42):
that in my Elizabeth I possessed a treasure alas balanced
by those horrors of remorse and guilt, which would pursue
me until death. Sweet and beloved Elizabeth, I read and
re read her letter, and some softened feeling stole into
my heart, and dared to whisper paradisiacal dreams of love
and joy. But the apple was already eaten, and the
(30:04):
angel's arm bared to drive me from all hope. Yet
I would die to make her happy. If the monster
executed his threat, death was inevitable. Yet again I considered
whether my marriage would hasten my fate. My destruction might
indeed arrive a few months sooner. But if my torturer
should suspect that I postponed it, influenced by his menaces,
(30:26):
he would surely find other, and perhaps more dreadful means
of revenge. He had vowed to be with me on
my wedding night, Yet he did not consider that threat
as binding him to peace in the meantime, for as
if to show me that he was not yet satiated
with blood, he had murdered Clerval immediately after the enunciation
of his threats. I resolved therefore, that if my immediate
(30:49):
union with my cousin would conduce either to hers or
my father's happiness, my adversary's designs against my life should
not retard it a single hour. In this state of mind,
I wrote to Elizabeth. My letter was calm and affectionate.
I fear, my beloved girl, I said, little happiness remains
(31:11):
for us on earth, Yet all that I may one
day enjoy is centered in you. Chase away your idle fears.
To you alone, do I consecrate my life and my
endeavors for contentment. I have one secret, Elizabeth, a dreadful one.
When revealed to you, it will chill your frame with horror,
and then, far from being surprised at my misery, you
(31:32):
will only wonder that I survive what I have endured.
I will confide this tale of misery and terror to you.
The day after our marriage shall take place. For my
sweet cousin, there must be perfect confidence between us. But
until then I conjure you do not mention or allude
to it. This I most earnestly entreat, and I know
you will comply. In about a week after the arrival
(31:58):
of Elizabeth's letter, we return to Geneva. The sweet girl
welcomed me with warm affection, yet tears were in her
eyes as she beheld my emaciated frame and feverish cheeks.
I saw a change in her also. She was thinner
and had lost much of that heavenly vivacity that had
before charmed me. But her gentleness and soft looks of
compassion made her a morphic companion for one blasted and
(32:20):
miserable as I was. The tranquility which I now enjoy
did not endure. Memory brought madness with it, and when
I thought of what had passed, a real insanity possessed me.
Sometimes I was furious and burnt with rage. Sometimes low
and despondent, I neither spoke nor looked at any one,
but sat motionless, bewildered by the multitude of miseries that
(32:43):
overcame me. Elizabeth alone had the power to draw me
from these fits. Her gentle voice would soothe me when
transported by passion, and inspire me with human feelings. When
sunk in torpor, she wept with me and for me.
When reason returned, she would remonstrate and endeavor to inspire
me with the resignation. Ah, it is well for the
(33:06):
unfortunate to be resigned, But for the guilty there is
no peace. The agonies of remorse poison the luxury there
is otherwise sometimes found in indulging the excess of grief.
Soon after my arrival, my father spoke of my immediate
marriage with Elizabeth. I remain silent, Have you, then, some
(33:26):
other attachment? None on earth? I love Elizabeth and look
forward to our union with delight. Let the day therefore
be fixed, and on it I will consecrate myself, in
life or death, to the happiness of my cousin. My
dear Victor, do not speak thus. Heavy misfortunes have befallen us.
But let us only cling closer to what remains, and
(33:48):
transfer our love for those whom we have lost to
those who yet live. Our circle will be small, but
bound close by the ties of affection and mutual misfortune.
And when time shall have softened your despair, youw and
dear objects of care will be borne to replace those
of whom we have been so cruelly deprived. Such were
the lessons of my father. But to me the remembrance
(34:10):
of the threat returned. Nor can you wonder that omnipotent
as the Fiend had yet been in his deeds of blood,
I should almost regard him as invincible, and that, when
he had pronounced the words I shall be with you
on your wedding night, I should regard the threatened fate
as unavoidable. But death was no evil to me if
the loss of Elizabeth were balanced with it, And I, therefore,
(34:33):
with a contented and even cheerful countenance, agreed with my
father that if my cousin would consent, the ceremony should
take place in ten days, and thus put, as I imagined,
the seal to my fate. Great God, if for one
instant I had thought what might be the hellish intention
of my fiendish adversary, I would rather have banished myself
(34:53):
forever from my native country and wandered a friendless outcast
over the earth than have consented to this miserable marriage.
But as if possessed of magic powers, the monster had
blinded me to his real intentions. And when I thought
that I had prepared only my own death, I hastened
that of a far dearer victim. As the period fixed
(35:15):
for our marriage drew nearer, whether from cowardice or of
prophetic feeling, I felt my heart sink within me. But
I concealed my feelings by an appearance of hilarity that
brought smiles and joy to the countenance of my father,
but hardly deceived the ever watchful and nicer eye of Elizabeth.
She looked forward to our union with placid contentment, not
(35:37):
unmingled with the little fear which past misfortunes had impressed,
that what now appeared certain and tangible happiness might soon
dissipate into an airy dream and leave no trace but
deep and everlasting regret. Preparations were made for the event,
congratulatory visits were received, and all war of smiling appearance,
(35:57):
I shut up as well as I could in my
own heart the anxiety that preyed there and entered with
seeming earnestness into the plans of my father, although they
might only serve as the decorations of my tragedy. Through
my father's exertions, a part of the inheritance of Elizabeth
had been restored to her by the Austrian government. A
(36:17):
small possession on the shores of Como belonged to her.
It was agreed that immediately after our union we should
proceed to Villa la Venza and spend our first days
of happiness beside the beautiful lake near which it stood.
In the meantime, I took every precaution to defend my
person in case the fiend should openly attack me. I
carried pistols and a dagger constantly about me, and was
(36:40):
ever on the watch to prevent artifice, and by these
means gained a greater degree of tranquility. Indeed, as the
period approached, the threat appeared more as a delusion, not
to be regarded as worthy to disturb my peace, while
the happiness I hoped for in my marriage wore a
greater appearance of certainty. As the day fixed for its
solemnization drew nearer, and I heard it continually spoken of
(37:04):
as an occurrence which no accident could possibly prevent. Elizabeth
seemed happy my tranquil demeanor contributed greatly to calm her mind.
But on the day that was to fulfill my wishes
and my destiny, she was melancholy, and a presentiment of
evil pervaded her. And perhaps also she thought of the
dreadful secret which I had promised to reveal to her
(37:25):
on the following day. My father was, in the meantime
overjoyed and in the bustle of preparation, only recognized in
the melancholy of his niece the diffidence of a bride.
After the ceremony was performed, a large party assembled at
my father's but it was agreed that Elizabeth and I
should commence our journey by water, sleeping that night at
(37:46):
Evian and continuing our voyage on the following day. The
day was fair, the wind favorable. All smiled on our
nuptial embarkation. Those were the last moments of my life
during which I enjoyed the feeling of happiness. We passed
rapidly along. The sun was hot, but we were sheltered
(38:06):
from its rays by a kind of canopy, while we
enjoyed the beauty of the scene. Sometimes on one side
of the lake, where we saw Mount Salaive, the pleasant
banks of Montalegre, and at a distance, surmounting all the
beautiful mont Blanc and the assemblage of snowy mountains that
in vain endeavor to emulate her. Sometimes coasting the opposite banks,
we saw the mighty Jura opposing its dark side to
(38:28):
the ambition that would quit its native country, and an
almost insurmountable barrier to the invader who should wish to
enslave it. I took the hand of Elizabeth. You are sorrowful,
my love. Ah. If you knew what I have suffered
and what I may yet endure, you would endeavor to
let me taste the quiet and freedom from despair that
this one day at least permits me to enjoy. Be happy,
(38:51):
My dear Victor replied Elizabeth. There is, I hope nothing
to distress you. And be assured that if a lively
joy is not painted in my face, my heart is contented.
Something whispers to me not to depend too much on
the prospect that is opened before us. But I will
not listen to such a sinister voice. Observe how fast
we move along, and how the clouds which sometimes obscure
(39:14):
and sometimes rise above the dome of mont Blanc, render
this scene of beauty. Still more interesting, look also at
the innumerable fish that are swimming in the clear waters,
where we can distinguish every pebble that lies at the bottom.
What a divine day, how happy and serene all nature appears.
Thus Elizabeth endeavored to divert her thoughts in mine from
(39:35):
all reflection upon melancholy subjects. But her temper was fluctuating.
Joy for a few instants shown in her eyes, but
it continually gave place to distraction and reverie. The sun
sank lower in the heavens. We passed the river Drance
and observed its path through the chasms of the higher
and the glens of the lower hills. The Alps here
(39:57):
come closer to the lake, and we approached the Amphith
theater of mountains, which formed its eastern boundary. The spire
of Evian shone under the woods that surrounded it, and
the range of mountain above mountain by which it was overhung.
The wind, which had hitherto carried us along with amazing rapidity,
sank at sunset to a light breeze. The soft air
(40:19):
just ruffled the water and caused a pleasant motion among
the trees. As we approached the shore, from which it
wafted the most delightful scent of flowers and hay. The
sun sank beneath the horizon as we landed, and as
I touched the shore, I felt those cares and fears revive,
which soon were to clasp me and cling to me forever.
(40:41):
End of Chapter twenty two, recorded October sixteenth, two thousand five,
in Longmont, Colorado,
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