It was on a dreary night of November that I
beheld the accomplishment of my toils. With an anxiety that almost
amounted to agony, I collected the instruments of life around me,
that I might infuse a spark of being into the lifeless thing that
lay at my feet. It was already one in the morning; the rain pattered
dismally against the panes, and my candle was nearly burnt out,
when, by the glimmer of the half-extinguished light, I saw the dull
yellow eye of the creature open; it breathed hard, and a convulsive
motion agitated its limbs.
How can I describe my emotions at
this catastrophe, or how delineate the wretch whom with such
infinite pains and care I had endeavoured to form? His limbs were in
proportion, and I had selected his features as beautiful.
Beautiful!--Great God! His yellow skin scarcely covered the work of
muscles and arteries beneath; his hair was of a lustrous black, and
flowing; his teeth of a pearly whiteness; but these luxuriances only
formed a more horrid contrast with his watery eyes, that seemed
almost of the same colour as the dun white sockets in which they
were set, his shrivelled complexion and straight black lips.
The different accidents of life are not so changeable as the
feelings of human nature. I had worked hard for nearly two years,
for the sole purpose of infusing life into an inanimate body. For
this I had deprived myself of rest and health. I had desired it with
an ardour that far exceeded moderation; but now that I had finished,
the beauty of the dream vanished, and breathless horror and disgust
filled my heart. Unable to endure the aspect of the being I had
created, I rushed out of the room, and continued a long time
traversing my bedchamber, unable to compose my mind to sleep. At
length lassitude succeeded to the tumult I had before endured; and I
threw myself on the bed in my clothes, endeavouring to seek a few
moments of forgetfulness. But it was in vain: I slept, indeed, but I
was disturbed by the wildest dreams. I thought I saw Elizabeth, in
the bloom of health, walking in the streets of Ingolstadt. Delighted
and surprised, I embraced her; but as I imprinted the first kiss on
her lips, they became livid with the hue of death; her features
appeared to change, and I thought that I held the corpse of my dead
mother in my arms; a shroud enveloped her form, and I saw the
grave-worms crawling in the folds of the flannel. I started from my
sleep with horror; a cold dew covered my forehead, my teeth
chattered, and every limb became convulsed: when, by the dim and
yellow light of the moon, as it forced its way through the window
shutters, I beheld the wretch -- the miserable monster whom I had
created. He held up the curtain of the bed; and his eyes, if eyes
they may be called, were fixed on me. His jaws opened, and he
muttered some inarticulate sounds, while a grin wrinkled his cheeks.
He might have spoken, but I did not hear; one hand was stretched
out, seemingly to detain me, but I escaped, and rushed down stairs.
I took refuge in the courtyard belonging to the house which I
inhabited; where I remained during the rest of the night, walking up
and down in the greatest agitation, listening attentively, catching
and fearing each sound as if it were to announce the approach of the
demoniacal corpse to which I had so miserably given life.
Oh! no mortal could support the horror of that countenance.
A mummy again endued with animation could not be so hideous as that
wretch. I had gazed on him while unfinished; he was ugly then; but
when those muscles and joints were rendered capable of motion, it
became a thing such as even Dante could not have conceived.
I passed the night wretchedly. Sometimes my pulse beat so
quickly and hardly that I felt the palpitation of every artery; at
others, I nearly sank to the ground through languor and extreme
weakness. Mingled with this horror, I felt the bitterness of
disappointment; dreams that had been my food and pleasant rest for
so long a space were now become a hell to me; and the change was so
rapid, the overthrow so complete!
Morning, dismal and wet,
at length dawned, and discovered to my sleepless and aching eyes the
church of Ingolstadt, its white steeple and clock, which indicated
the sixth hour. The porter opened the gates of the court, which had
that night been my asylum, and I issued into the streets, pacing
them with quick steps, as if I sought to avoid the wretch whom I
feared every turning of the street would present to my view. I did
not dare return to the apartment which I inhabited, but felt
impelled to hurry on, although drenched by the rain which poured
from a black and comfortless sky.
I continued walking in
this manner for some time, endeavouring, by bodily exercise, to ease
the load that weighed upon my mind. I traversed the streets, without
any clear conception of where I was, or what I was doing. My heart
palpitated in the sickness of fear; and I hurried on with irregular
steps, not daring to look about me:--
"Like one who, on a
lonely road,
Doth walk in fear and dread,
And, having once
turned round, walks on,
And turns no more his head;
Because
he knows a frightful fiend
Doth close behind him tread."[1]
[1] Coleridge's Ancient
Mariner.
Continuing thus, I came at length
opposite to the inn at which the various diligences and carriages
usually stopped. Here I paused, I knew not why; but I remained some
minutes with my eyes fixed on a coach that was coming towards me
from the other end of the street. As it drew nearer, I observed that
it was the Swiss diligence: it stopped just where I was standing,
and, on the door being opened, I perceived Henry Clerval, who, on
seeing me, instantly sprung out. "My dear Frankenstein," exclaimed
he, "how glad I am to see you! how fortunate that you should be here
at the very moment of my alighting!"
Nothing could equal my
delight on seeing Clerval; his presence brought back to my thoughts
my father, Elizabeth, and all those scenes of home so dear to my
recollection. I grasped his hand, and in a moment forgot my horror
and misfortune; I felt suddenly, and for the first time during many
months, calm and serene joy. I welcomed my friend, therefore, in the
most cordial manner, and we walked towards my college. Clerval
continued talking for some time about our mutual friends, and his
own good fortune in being permitted to come to Ingolstadt. "You may
easily believe," said he, "how great was the difficulty to persuade
my father that all necessary knowledge was not comprised in the
noble art of bookkeeping; and, indeed, I believe I left him
incredulous to the last, for his constant answer to my unwearied
entreaties was the same as that of the Dutch schoolmaster in the
Vicar of Wakefield:--`I have ten thousand florins a year
without Greek, I eat heartily without Greek.' But his affection for
me at length overcame his dislike of learning, and he has permitted
me to undertake a voyage of discovery to the land of knowledge."
"It gives me the greatest delight to see you; but tell me
how you left my father, brothers, and Elizabeth."
"Very
well, and very happy, only a little uneasy that they hear from you
so seldom. By the by, I mean to lecture you a little upon their
account myself.--But, my dear Frankenstein," continued he, stopping
short, and gazing full in my face, "I did not before remark how very
ill you appear; so thin and pale; you look as if you had been
watching for several nights."
"You have guessed right; I
have lately been so deeply engaged in one occupation that I have not
allowed myself sufficient rest, as you see: but I hope, I sincerely
hope, that all these employments are now at an end, and that I am at
length free."
I trembled excessively; I could not endure to
think of, and far less to allude to, the occurrences of the
preceding night. I walked with a quick pace, and we soon arrived at
my college. I then reflected, and the thought made me shiver, that
the creature whom I had left in my apartment might still be there,
alive, and walking about. I dreaded to bchold this monster; but I
feared still more that Henry should see him. Entreating him,
therefore, to remain a few minutes at the bottom of the stairs, I
darted up towards my own room. My hand was already on the lock of
the door before I recollected myself. I then paused; and a cold
shivering came over me. I threw the door forcibly open, as children
are accustomed to do when they expect a spectre to stand in waiting
for them on the other side; but nothing appeared. I stepped
fearfully in: the apartment was empty; and my bedroom was also freed
from its hideous guest. I could hardly believe that so great a good
fortune could have befallen me; but when I became assured that my
enemy had indeed fled, I clapped my hands for joy, and ran down to
Clerval.
We ascended into my room, and the servant presently
brought breakfast; but I was unable to contain myself. It was not
joy only that possessed me; I felt my flesh tingle with excess of
sensitiveness, and my pulse beat rapidly. I was unable to remain for
a single instant in the same place; I jumped over the chairs,
clapped my hands, and laughed aloud. Clerval at first attributed my
unusual spirits to joy on his arrival; but when he observed me more
attentively he saw a wildness in my eyes for which he could not
account; and my loud, unrestrained, heartless laughter, frightened
and astonished him.
"My dear Victor," cried he, "what, for
God's sake, is the matter? Do not laugh in that manner. How ill you
are! What is the cause of all this?"
"Do not ask me," cried
I, putting my hands before my eyes, for I thought I saw the dreaded
spectre glide into the room; "he can tell.--Oh, save me! save me!" I
imagined that the monster seized me; I struggled furiously, and fell
down in a fit.
Poor Clerval! what must have been his
feelings? A meeting, which he anticipated with such joy, so
strangely turned to bitterness. But I was not the witness of his
grief; for I was lifeless, and did not recover my senses for a long,
long time.
This was the commencement of a nervous fever,
which confined me for several months. During all that time Henry was
my only nurse. I afterwards learned that, knowing my father's
advanced age, and unfitness for so long a journey, and how wretched
my sickness would make Elizabeth, he spared them this grief by
concealing the extent of my disorder. He knew that I could not have
a more kind and attentive nurse than himself; and, firm in the hope
he felt of my recovery, he did not doubt that, instead of doing
harm, he performed the kindest action that he could towards them.
But I was in reality very ill; and surely nothing but the
unbounded and unremitting attentions of my friend could have
restored me to life. The form of the monster on whom I had bestowed
existence was for ever before my eyes, and I raved incessantly
concerning him. Doubtless my words surprised Henry: he at first
believed them to be the wanderings of my disturbed imagination; but
the pertinacity with which I continually recurred to the same
subject, persuaded him that my disorder indeed owed its origin to
some uncommon and terrible event.
By very slow degrees, and
with frequent relapses that alarmed and grieved my friend, I
recovered. I remember the first time I became capable of observing
outward objects with any kind of pleasure, I perceived that the
fallen leaves had disappeared, and that the young buds were shooting
forth from the trees that shaded my window. It was a divine spring;
and the season contributed greatly to my convalescence. I felt also
sentiments of joy and affection revive in my bosom; my gloom
disappeared, and in a short time I became as cheerful as before I
was attacked by the fatal passion.
"Dearest Clerval,"
exclaimed I, "how kind, how very good you are to me. This whole
winter, instead of being spent in study, as you promised yourself,
has been consumed in my sick room. How shall I ever repay you? I
feel the greatest remorse for the disappointment of which I have
been the occasion; but you will forgive me."
"You will repay
me entirely, if you do not discompose yourself, but get well as fast
as you can; and since you appear in such good spirits, I may speak
to you on one subject, may I not?"
I trembled. One subject!
what could it be? Could he allude to an object on whom I dared not
even think?
"Compose yourself," said Clerval, who observed
my change of colour, "I will not mention it, if it agitates you; but
your father and cousin would be very happy if they received a letter
from you in your own handwriting. They hardly know how ill you have
been, and are uneasy at your long silence."
"Is that all, my
dear Henry? How could you suppose that my first thoughts would not
fly towards those dear, dear friends whom I love, and who are so
deserving of my love."
"If this is your present temper, my
friend, you will perhaps be glad to see a letter that has been lying
here some days for you; it is from your cousin, I believe."
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