Reading Help Frankenstein Ch.1-9
part, I do not hesitate to say that, notwithstanding all the evidence `
` produced against her, I believe and rely on her perfect innocence. She `
` had no temptation for such an action; as to the bauble on which the `
` chief proof rests, if she had earnestly desired it, I should have `
` willingly given it to her, so much do I esteem and value her." `
` `
` A murmur of approbation followed Elizabeth's simple and powerful `
` appeal, but it was excited by her generous interference, and not in `
` favour of poor Justine, on whom the public indignation was turned with `
` renewed violence, charging her with the blackest ingratitude. She `
` herself wept as Elizabeth spoke, but she did not answer. My own `
` agitation and anguish was extreme during the whole trial. I believed `
` in her innocence; I knew it. Could the demon who had (I did not for a `
` minute doubt) murdered my brother also in his hellish sport have `
` betrayed the innocent to death and ignominy? I could not sustain the `
` horror of my situation, and when I perceived that the popular voice and `
` the countenances of the judges had already condemned my unhappy victim, `
` I rushed out of the court in agony. The tortures of the accused did `
` not equal mine; she was sustained by innocence, but the fangs of `
` remorse tore my bosom and would not forgo their hold. `
` `
` I passed a night of unmingled wretchedness. In the morning I went to `
` the court; my lips and throat were parched. I dared not ask the fatal `
` question, but I was known, and the officer guessed the cause of my `
` visit. The ballots had been thrown; they were all black, and Justine `
` was condemned. `
` `
` I cannot pretend to describe what I then felt. I had before `
` experienced sensations of horror, and I have endeavoured to bestow upon `
` them adequate expressions, but words cannot convey an idea of the `
` heart-sickening despair that I then endured. The person to whom I `
` addressed myself added that Justine had already confessed her guilt. `
` "That evidence," he observed, "was hardly required in so glaring a `
` case, but I am glad of it, and, indeed, none of our judges like to `
` condemn a criminal upon circumstantial evidence, be it ever so `
` decisive." `
` `
` This was strange and unexpected intelligence; what could it mean? Had `
` my eyes deceived me? And was I really as mad as the whole world would `
` believe me to be if I disclosed the object of my suspicions? I `
` hastened to return home, and Elizabeth eagerly demanded the result. `
` `
` "My cousin," replied I, "it is decided as you may have expected; all `
` judges had rather that ten innocent should suffer than that one guilty `
` should escape. But she has confessed." `
` `
` This was a dire blow to poor Elizabeth, who had relied with firmness `
` upon Justine's innocence. "Alas!" said she. "How shall I ever again `
` believe in human goodness? Justine, whom I loved and esteemed as my `
` sister, how could she put on those smiles of innocence only to betray? `
` Her mild eyes seemed incapable of any severity or guile, and yet she `
` has committed a murder." `
` `
` Soon after we heard that the poor victim had expressed a desire to see `
` my cousin. My father wished her not to go but said that he left it to `
` her own judgment and feelings to decide. "Yes," said Elizabeth, "I `
` will go, although she is guilty; and you, Victor, shall accompany me; I `
` cannot go alone." The idea of this visit was torture to me, yet I `
` could not refuse. We entered the gloomy prison chamber and beheld `
` Justine sitting on some straw at the farther end; her hands were `
` manacled, and her head rested on her knees. She rose on seeing us `
` enter, and when we were left alone with her, she threw herself at the `
` feet of Elizabeth, weeping bitterly. My cousin wept also. `
` `
` "Oh, Justine!" said she. "Why did you rob me of my last consolation? `
` I relied on your innocence, and although I was then very wretched, I `
` was not so miserable as I am now." `
` `
` "And do you also believe that I am so very, very wicked? Do you also `
` join with my enemies to crush me, to condemn me as a murderer?" Her `
` voice was suffocated with sobs. `
` `
` "Rise, my poor girl," said Elizabeth; "why do you kneel, if you are `
` innocent? I am not one of your enemies, I believed you guiltless, `
` notwithstanding every evidence, until I heard that you had yourself `
` declared your guilt. That report, you say, is false; and be assured, `
` dear Justine, that nothing can shake my confidence in you for a moment, `
` but your own confession." `
` `
` "I did confess, but I confessed a lie. I confessed, that I might `
` obtain absolution; but now that falsehood lies heavier at my heart than `
` all my other sins. The God of heaven forgive me! Ever since I was `
` condemned, my confessor has besieged me; he threatened and menaced, `
` until I almost began to think that I was the monster that he said I `
` was. He threatened excommunication and hell fire in my last moments if `
` I continued obdurate. Dear lady, I had none to support me; all looked `
` on me as a wretch doomed to ignominy and perdition. What could I do? `
` In an evil hour I subscribed to a lie; and now only am I truly `
` miserable." `
` `
` She paused, weeping, and then continued, "I thought with horror, my `
` sweet lady, that you should believe your Justine, whom your blessed `
` aunt had so highly honoured, and whom you loved, was a creature capable `
` of a crime which none but the devil himself could have perpetrated. `
` Dear William! dearest blessed child! I soon shall see you again in `
` heaven, where we shall all be happy; and that consoles me, going as I `
` am to suffer ignominy and death." `
` `
` "Oh, Justine! Forgive me for having for one moment distrusted you. `
` Why did you confess? But do not mourn, dear girl. Do not fear. I `
` will proclaim, I will prove your innocence. I will melt the stony `
` hearts of your enemies by my tears and prayers. You shall not die! `
` You, my playfellow, my companion, my sister, perish on the scaffold! `
` No! No! I never could survive so horrible a misfortune." `
` `
` Justine shook her head mournfully. "I do not fear to die," she said; `
` "that pang is past. God raises my weakness and gives me courage to `
` endure the worst. I leave a sad and bitter world; and if you remember `
` me and think of me as of one unjustly condemned, I am resigned to the `
` fate awaiting me. Learn from me, dear lady, to submit in patience to `
` the will of heaven!" `
` `
` During this conversation I had retired to a corner of the prison room, `
` where I could conceal the horrid anguish that possessed me. Despair! `
` Who dared talk of that? The poor victim, who on the morrow was to pass `
` the awful boundary between life and death, felt not, as I did, such `
` deep and bitter agony. I gnashed my teeth and ground them together, `
` uttering a groan that came from my inmost soul. Justine started. When `
` she saw who it was, she approached me and said, "Dear sir, you are very `
` kind to visit me; you, I hope, do not believe that I am guilty?" `
` `
` I could not answer. "No, Justine," said Elizabeth; "he is more `
` convinced of your innocence than I was, for even when he heard that you `
` had confessed, he did not credit it." `
` `
` "I truly thank him. In these last moments I feel the sincerest `
` gratitude towards those who think of me with kindness. How sweet is `
` the affection of others to such a wretch as I am! It removes more than `
` half my misfortune, and I feel as if I could die in peace now that my `
` innocence is acknowledged by you, dear lady, and your cousin." `
` `
` Thus the poor sufferer tried to comfort others and herself. She indeed `
` gained the resignation she desired. But I, the true murderer, felt the `
` never-dying worm alive in my bosom, which allowed of no hope or `
` consolation. Elizabeth also wept and was unhappy, but hers also was `
` the misery of innocence, which, like a cloud that passes over the fair `
` moon, for a while hides but cannot tarnish its brightness. Anguish and `
` despair had penetrated into the core of my heart; I bore a hell within `
` me which nothing could extinguish. We stayed several hours with `
` Justine, and it was with great difficulty that Elizabeth could tear `
` herself away. "I wish," cried she, "that I were to die with you; I `
` cannot live in this world of misery." `
` `
` Justine assumed an air of cheerfulness, while she with difficulty `
` repressed her bitter tears. She embraced Elizabeth and said in a voice `
` of half-suppressed emotion, "Farewell, sweet lady, dearest Elizabeth, `
` my beloved and only friend; may heaven, in its bounty, bless and `
` preserve you; may this be the last misfortune that you will ever `
` suffer! Live, and be happy, and make others so." `
` `
` And on the morrow Justine died. Elizabeth's heart-rending eloquence `
` failed to move the judges from their settled conviction in the `
` criminality of the saintly sufferer. My passionate and indignant `
` appeals were lost upon them. And when I received their cold answers `
` and heard the harsh, unfeeling reasoning of these men, my purposed `
` avowal died away on my lips. Thus I might proclaim myself a madman, `
` but not revoke the sentence passed upon my wretched victim. She `
` perished on the scaffold as a murderess! `
` `
` From the tortures of my own heart, I turned to contemplate the deep and `
` voiceless grief of my Elizabeth. This also was my doing! And my `
` father's woe, and the desolation of that late so smiling home all was `
` the work of my thrice-accursed hands! Ye weep, unhappy ones, but these `
` are not your last tears! Again shall you raise the funeral wail, and `
` the sound of your lamentations shall again and again be heard! `
` Frankenstein, your son, your kinsman, your early, much-loved friend; he `
` who would spend each vital drop of blood for your sakes, who has no `
` thought nor sense of joy except as it is mirrored also in your dear `
` countenances, who would fill the air with blessings and spend his life `
` in serving you--he bids you weep, to shed countless tears; happy beyond `
` his hopes, if thus inexorable fate be satisfied, and if the destruction `
` pause before the peace of the grave have succeeded to your sad `
` torments! `
` `
` Thus spoke my prophetic soul, as, torn by remorse, horror, and despair, `
` I beheld those I loved spend vain sorrow upon the graves of William and `
` Justine, the first hapless victims to my unhallowed arts. `
` `
` `
` Chapter 9 `
` `
` Nothing is more painful to the human mind than, after the feelings have `
` been worked up by a quick succession of events, the dead calmness of `
` inaction and certainty which follows and deprives the soul both of hope `
` and fear. Justine died, she rested, and I was alive. The blood flowed `
` freely in my veins, but a weight of despair and remorse pressed on my `
` heart which nothing could remove. Sleep fled from my eyes; I wandered `
` like an evil spirit, for I had committed deeds of mischief beyond `
` description horrible, and more, much more (I persuaded myself) was yet `
` behind. Yet my heart overflowed with kindness and the love of virtue. `
` I had begun life with benevolent intentions and thirsted for the moment `
` when I should put them in practice and make myself useful to my fellow `
` beings. Now all was blasted; instead of that serenity of conscience `
` which allowed me to look back upon the past with self-satisfaction, and `
` from thence to gather promise of new hopes, I was seized by remorse and `
` the sense of guilt, which hurried me away to a hell of intense tortures `
` such as no language can describe. `
` `
` This state of mind preyed upon my health, which had perhaps never `
` entirely recovered from the first shock it had sustained. I shunned `
` the face of man; all sound of joy or complacency was torture to me; `
`
` produced against her, I believe and rely on her perfect innocence. She `
` had no temptation for such an action; as to the bauble on which the `
` chief proof rests, if she had earnestly desired it, I should have `
` willingly given it to her, so much do I esteem and value her." `
` `
` A murmur of approbation followed Elizabeth's simple and powerful `
` appeal, but it was excited by her generous interference, and not in `
` favour of poor Justine, on whom the public indignation was turned with `
` renewed violence, charging her with the blackest ingratitude. She `
` herself wept as Elizabeth spoke, but she did not answer. My own `
` agitation and anguish was extreme during the whole trial. I believed `
` in her innocence; I knew it. Could the demon who had (I did not for a `
` minute doubt) murdered my brother also in his hellish sport have `
` betrayed the innocent to death and ignominy? I could not sustain the `
` horror of my situation, and when I perceived that the popular voice and `
` the countenances of the judges had already condemned my unhappy victim, `
` I rushed out of the court in agony. The tortures of the accused did `
` not equal mine; she was sustained by innocence, but the fangs of `
` remorse tore my bosom and would not forgo their hold. `
` `
` I passed a night of unmingled wretchedness. In the morning I went to `
` the court; my lips and throat were parched. I dared not ask the fatal `
` question, but I was known, and the officer guessed the cause of my `
` visit. The ballots had been thrown; they were all black, and Justine `
` was condemned. `
` `
` I cannot pretend to describe what I then felt. I had before `
` experienced sensations of horror, and I have endeavoured to bestow upon `
` them adequate expressions, but words cannot convey an idea of the `
` heart-sickening despair that I then endured. The person to whom I `
` addressed myself added that Justine had already confessed her guilt. `
` "That evidence," he observed, "was hardly required in so glaring a `
` case, but I am glad of it, and, indeed, none of our judges like to `
` condemn a criminal upon circumstantial evidence, be it ever so `
` decisive." `
` `
` This was strange and unexpected intelligence; what could it mean? Had `
` my eyes deceived me? And was I really as mad as the whole world would `
` believe me to be if I disclosed the object of my suspicions? I `
` hastened to return home, and Elizabeth eagerly demanded the result. `
` `
` "My cousin," replied I, "it is decided as you may have expected; all `
` judges had rather that ten innocent should suffer than that one guilty `
` should escape. But she has confessed." `
` `
` This was a dire blow to poor Elizabeth, who had relied with firmness `
` upon Justine's innocence. "Alas!" said she. "How shall I ever again `
` believe in human goodness? Justine, whom I loved and esteemed as my `
` sister, how could she put on those smiles of innocence only to betray? `
` Her mild eyes seemed incapable of any severity or guile, and yet she `
` has committed a murder." `
` `
` Soon after we heard that the poor victim had expressed a desire to see `
` my cousin. My father wished her not to go but said that he left it to `
` her own judgment and feelings to decide. "Yes," said Elizabeth, "I `
` will go, although she is guilty; and you, Victor, shall accompany me; I `
` cannot go alone." The idea of this visit was torture to me, yet I `
` could not refuse. We entered the gloomy prison chamber and beheld `
` Justine sitting on some straw at the farther end; her hands were `
` manacled, and her head rested on her knees. She rose on seeing us `
` enter, and when we were left alone with her, she threw herself at the `
` feet of Elizabeth, weeping bitterly. My cousin wept also. `
` `
` "Oh, Justine!" said she. "Why did you rob me of my last consolation? `
` I relied on your innocence, and although I was then very wretched, I `
` was not so miserable as I am now." `
` `
` "And do you also believe that I am so very, very wicked? Do you also `
` join with my enemies to crush me, to condemn me as a murderer?" Her `
` voice was suffocated with sobs. `
` `
` "Rise, my poor girl," said Elizabeth; "why do you kneel, if you are `
` innocent? I am not one of your enemies, I believed you guiltless, `
` notwithstanding every evidence, until I heard that you had yourself `
` declared your guilt. That report, you say, is false; and be assured, `
` dear Justine, that nothing can shake my confidence in you for a moment, `
` but your own confession." `
` `
` "I did confess, but I confessed a lie. I confessed, that I might `
` obtain absolution; but now that falsehood lies heavier at my heart than `
` all my other sins. The God of heaven forgive me! Ever since I was `
` condemned, my confessor has besieged me; he threatened and menaced, `
` until I almost began to think that I was the monster that he said I `
` was. He threatened excommunication and hell fire in my last moments if `
` I continued obdurate. Dear lady, I had none to support me; all looked `
` on me as a wretch doomed to ignominy and perdition. What could I do? `
` In an evil hour I subscribed to a lie; and now only am I truly `
` miserable." `
` `
` She paused, weeping, and then continued, "I thought with horror, my `
` sweet lady, that you should believe your Justine, whom your blessed `
` aunt had so highly honoured, and whom you loved, was a creature capable `
` of a crime which none but the devil himself could have perpetrated. `
` Dear William! dearest blessed child! I soon shall see you again in `
` heaven, where we shall all be happy; and that consoles me, going as I `
` am to suffer ignominy and death." `
` `
` "Oh, Justine! Forgive me for having for one moment distrusted you. `
` Why did you confess? But do not mourn, dear girl. Do not fear. I `
` will proclaim, I will prove your innocence. I will melt the stony `
` hearts of your enemies by my tears and prayers. You shall not die! `
` You, my playfellow, my companion, my sister, perish on the scaffold! `
` No! No! I never could survive so horrible a misfortune." `
` `
` Justine shook her head mournfully. "I do not fear to die," she said; `
` "that pang is past. God raises my weakness and gives me courage to `
` endure the worst. I leave a sad and bitter world; and if you remember `
` me and think of me as of one unjustly condemned, I am resigned to the `
` fate awaiting me. Learn from me, dear lady, to submit in patience to `
` the will of heaven!" `
` `
` During this conversation I had retired to a corner of the prison room, `
` where I could conceal the horrid anguish that possessed me. Despair! `
` Who dared talk of that? The poor victim, who on the morrow was to pass `
` the awful boundary between life and death, felt not, as I did, such `
` deep and bitter agony. I gnashed my teeth and ground them together, `
` uttering a groan that came from my inmost soul. Justine started. When `
` she saw who it was, she approached me and said, "Dear sir, you are very `
` kind to visit me; you, I hope, do not believe that I am guilty?" `
` `
` I could not answer. "No, Justine," said Elizabeth; "he is more `
` convinced of your innocence than I was, for even when he heard that you `
` had confessed, he did not credit it." `
` `
` "I truly thank him. In these last moments I feel the sincerest `
` gratitude towards those who think of me with kindness. How sweet is `
` the affection of others to such a wretch as I am! It removes more than `
` half my misfortune, and I feel as if I could die in peace now that my `
` innocence is acknowledged by you, dear lady, and your cousin." `
` `
` Thus the poor sufferer tried to comfort others and herself. She indeed `
` gained the resignation she desired. But I, the true murderer, felt the `
` never-dying worm alive in my bosom, which allowed of no hope or `
` consolation. Elizabeth also wept and was unhappy, but hers also was `
` the misery of innocence, which, like a cloud that passes over the fair `
` moon, for a while hides but cannot tarnish its brightness. Anguish and `
` despair had penetrated into the core of my heart; I bore a hell within `
` me which nothing could extinguish. We stayed several hours with `
` Justine, and it was with great difficulty that Elizabeth could tear `
` herself away. "I wish," cried she, "that I were to die with you; I `
` cannot live in this world of misery." `
` `
` Justine assumed an air of cheerfulness, while she with difficulty `
` repressed her bitter tears. She embraced Elizabeth and said in a voice `
` of half-suppressed emotion, "Farewell, sweet lady, dearest Elizabeth, `
` my beloved and only friend; may heaven, in its bounty, bless and `
` preserve you; may this be the last misfortune that you will ever `
` suffer! Live, and be happy, and make others so." `
` `
` And on the morrow Justine died. Elizabeth's heart-rending eloquence `
` failed to move the judges from their settled conviction in the `
` criminality of the saintly sufferer. My passionate and indignant `
` appeals were lost upon them. And when I received their cold answers `
` and heard the harsh, unfeeling reasoning of these men, my purposed `
` avowal died away on my lips. Thus I might proclaim myself a madman, `
` but not revoke the sentence passed upon my wretched victim. She `
` perished on the scaffold as a murderess! `
` `
` From the tortures of my own heart, I turned to contemplate the deep and `
` voiceless grief of my Elizabeth. This also was my doing! And my `
` father's woe, and the desolation of that late so smiling home all was `
` the work of my thrice-accursed hands! Ye weep, unhappy ones, but these `
` are not your last tears! Again shall you raise the funeral wail, and `
` the sound of your lamentations shall again and again be heard! `
` Frankenstein, your son, your kinsman, your early, much-loved friend; he `
` who would spend each vital drop of blood for your sakes, who has no `
` thought nor sense of joy except as it is mirrored also in your dear `
` countenances, who would fill the air with blessings and spend his life `
` in serving you--he bids you weep, to shed countless tears; happy beyond `
` his hopes, if thus inexorable fate be satisfied, and if the destruction `
` pause before the peace of the grave have succeeded to your sad `
` torments! `
` `
` Thus spoke my prophetic soul, as, torn by remorse, horror, and despair, `
` I beheld those I loved spend vain sorrow upon the graves of William and `
` Justine, the first hapless victims to my unhallowed arts. `
` `
` `
` Chapter 9 `
` `
` Nothing is more painful to the human mind than, after the feelings have `
` been worked up by a quick succession of events, the dead calmness of `
` inaction and certainty which follows and deprives the soul both of hope `
` and fear. Justine died, she rested, and I was alive. The blood flowed `
` freely in my veins, but a weight of despair and remorse pressed on my `
` heart which nothing could remove. Sleep fled from my eyes; I wandered `
` like an evil spirit, for I had committed deeds of mischief beyond `
` description horrible, and more, much more (I persuaded myself) was yet `
` behind. Yet my heart overflowed with kindness and the love of virtue. `
` I had begun life with benevolent intentions and thirsted for the moment `
` when I should put them in practice and make myself useful to my fellow `
` beings. Now all was blasted; instead of that serenity of conscience `
` which allowed me to look back upon the past with self-satisfaction, and `
` from thence to gather promise of new hopes, I was seized by remorse and `
` the sense of guilt, which hurried me away to a hell of intense tortures `
` such as no language can describe. `
` `
` This state of mind preyed upon my health, which had perhaps never `
` entirely recovered from the first shock it had sustained. I shunned `
` the face of man; all sound of joy or complacency was torture to me; `
`