Reading Help Frankenstein Ch.1-9
`
` "Certainly; it would indeed be very impertinent and inhuman in me to `
` trouble you with any inquisitiveness of mine." `
` `
` "And yet you rescued me from a strange and perilous situation; you have `
` benevolently restored me to life." `
` `
` Soon after this he inquired if I thought that the breaking up of the `
` ice had destroyed the other sledge. I replied that I could not answer `
` with any degree of certainty, for the ice had not broken until near `
` midnight, and the traveller might have arrived at a place of safety `
` before that time; but of this I could not judge. From this time a new `
` spirit of life animated the decaying frame of the stranger. He `
` manifested the greatest eagerness to be upon deck to watch for the `
` sledge which had before appeared; but I have persuaded him to remain in `
` the cabin, for he is far too weak to sustain the rawness of the `
` atmosphere. I have promised that someone should watch for him and give `
` him instant notice if any new object should appear in sight. `
` `
` Such is my journal of what relates to this strange occurrence up to the `
` present day. The stranger has gradually improved in health but is very `
` silent and appears uneasy when anyone except myself enters his cabin. `
` Yet his manners are so conciliating and gentle that the sailors are all `
` interested in him, although they have had very little communication `
` with him. For my own part, I begin to love him as a brother, and his `
` constant and deep grief fills me with sympathy and compassion. He must `
` have been a noble creature in his better days, being even now in wreck `
` so attractive and amiable. I said in one of my letters, my dear `
` Margaret, that I should find no friend on the wide ocean; yet I have `
` found a man who, before his spirit had been broken by misery, I should `
` have been happy to have possessed as the brother of my heart. `
` `
` I shall continue my journal concerning the stranger at intervals, `
` should I have any fresh incidents to record. `
` `
` `
` August 13th, 17-- `
` `
` My affection for my guest increases every day. He excites at once my `
` admiration and my pity to an astonishing degree. How can I see so `
` noble a creature destroyed by misery without feeling the most poignant `
` grief? He is so gentle, yet so wise; his mind is so cultivated, and `
` when he speaks, although his words are culled with the choicest art, `
` yet they flow with rapidity and unparalleled eloquence. He is now much `
` recovered from his illness and is continually on the deck, apparently `
` watching for the sledge that preceded his own. Yet, although unhappy, `
` he is not so utterly occupied by his own misery but that he interests `
` himself deeply in the projects of others. He has frequently conversed `
` with me on mine, which I have communicated to him without disguise. He `
` entered attentively into all my arguments in favour of my eventual `
` success and into every minute detail of the measures I had taken to `
` secure it. I was easily led by the sympathy which he evinced to use `
` the language of my heart, to give utterance to the burning ardour of my `
` soul and to say, with all the fervour that warmed me, how gladly I `
` would sacrifice my fortune, my existence, my every hope, to the `
` furtherance of my enterprise. One man's life or death were but a small `
` price to pay for the acquirement of the knowledge which I sought, for `
` the dominion I should acquire and transmit over the elemental foes of `
` our race. As I spoke, a dark gloom spread over my listener's `
` countenance. At first I perceived that he tried to suppress his `
` emotion; he placed his hands before his eyes, and my voice quivered and `
` failed me as I beheld tears trickle fast from between his fingers; a `
` groan burst from his heaving breast. I paused; at length he spoke, in `
` broken accents: "Unhappy man! Do you share my madness? Have you `
` drunk also of the intoxicating draught? Hear me; let me reveal my `
` tale, and you will dash the cup from your lips!" `
` `
` Such words, you may imagine, strongly excited my curiosity; but the `
` paroxysm of grief that had seized the stranger overcame his weakened `
` powers, and many hours of repose and tranquil conversation were `
` necessary to restore his composure. Having conquered the violence of `
` his feelings, he appeared to despise himself for being the slave of `
` passion; and quelling the dark tyranny of despair, he led me again to `
` converse concerning myself personally. He asked me the history of my `
` earlier years. The tale was quickly told, but it awakened various `
` trains of reflection. I spoke of my desire of finding a friend, of my `
` thirst for a more intimate sympathy with a fellow mind than had ever `
` fallen to my lot, and expressed my conviction that a man could boast of `
` little happiness who did not enjoy this blessing. "I agree with you," `
` replied the stranger; "we are unfashioned creatures, but half made up, `
` if one wiser, better, dearer than ourselves--such a friend ought to `
` be--do not lend his aid to perfectionate our weak and faulty natures. I `
` once had a friend, the most noble of human creatures, and am entitled, `
` therefore, to judge respecting friendship. You have hope, and the `
` world before you, and have no cause for despair. But I--I have lost `
` everything and cannot begin life anew." `
` `
` As he said this his countenance became expressive of a calm, settled `
` grief that touched me to the heart. But he was silent and presently `
` retired to his cabin. `
` `
` Even broken in spirit as he is, no one can feel more deeply than he `
` does the beauties of nature. The starry sky, the sea, and every sight `
` afforded by these wonderful regions seem still to have the power of `
` elevating his soul from earth. Such a man has a double existence: he `
` may suffer misery and be overwhelmed by disappointments, yet when he `
` has retired into himself, he will be like a celestial spirit that has a `
` halo around him, within whose circle no grief or folly ventures. `
` `
` Will you smile at the enthusiasm I express concerning this divine `
` wanderer? You would not if you saw him. You have been tutored and `
` refined by books and retirement from the world, and you are therefore `
` somewhat fastidious; but this only renders you the more fit to `
` appreciate the extraordinary merits of this wonderful man. Sometimes I `
` have endeavoured to discover what quality it is which he possesses that `
` elevates him so immeasurably above any other person I ever knew. I `
` believe it to be an intuitive discernment, a quick but never-failing `
` power of judgment, a penetration into the causes of things, unequalled `
` for clearness and precision; add to this a facility of expression and a `
` voice whose varied intonations are soul-subduing music. `
` `
` `
` August 19, 17-- `
` `
` Yesterday the stranger said to me, "You may easily perceive, Captain `
` Walton, that I have suffered great and unparalleled misfortunes. I had `
` determined at one time that the memory of these evils should die with `
` me, but you have won me to alter my determination. You seek for `
` knowledge and wisdom, as I once did; and I ardently hope that the `
` gratification of your wishes may not be a serpent to sting you, as mine `
` has been. I do not know that the relation of my disasters will be `
` useful to you; yet, when I reflect that you are pursuing the same `
` course, exposing yourself to the same dangers which have rendered me `
` what I am, I imagine that you may deduce an apt moral from my tale, one `
` that may direct you if you succeed in your undertaking and console you `
` in case of failure. Prepare to hear of occurrences which are usually `
` deemed marvellous. Were we among the tamer scenes of nature I might `
` fear to encounter your unbelief, perhaps your ridicule; but many things `
` will appear possible in these wild and mysterious regions which would `
` provoke the laughter of those unacquainted with the ever-varied powers `
` of nature; nor can I doubt but that my tale conveys in its series `
` internal evidence of the truth of the events of which it is composed." `
` `
` You may easily imagine that I was much gratified by the offered `
` communication, yet I could not endure that he should renew his grief by `
` a recital of his misfortunes. I felt the greatest eagerness to hear `
` the promised narrative, partly from curiosity and partly from a strong `
` desire to ameliorate his fate if it were in my power. I expressed `
` these feelings in my answer. `
` `
` "I thank you," he replied, "for your sympathy, but it is useless; my `
` fate is nearly fulfilled. I wait but for one event, and then I shall `
` repose in peace. I understand your feeling," continued he, perceiving `
` that I wished to interrupt him; "but you are mistaken, my friend, if `
` thus you will allow me to name you; nothing can alter my destiny; `
` listen to my history, and you will perceive how irrevocably it is `
` determined." `
` `
` He then told me that he would commence his narrative the next day when `
` I should be at leisure. This promise drew from me the warmest thanks. `
` I have resolved every night, when I am not imperatively occupied by my `
` duties, to record, as nearly as possible in his own words, what he has `
` related during the day. If I should be engaged, I will at least make `
` notes. This manuscript will doubtless afford you the greatest `
` pleasure; but to me, who know him, and who hear it from his own `
` lips--with what interest and sympathy shall I read it in some future `
` day! Even now, as I commence my task, his full-toned voice swells in `
` my ears; his lustrous eyes dwell on me with all their melancholy `
` sweetness; I see his thin hand raised in animation, while the `
` lineaments of his face are irradiated by the soul within. `
` `
` Strange and harrowing must be his story, frightful the storm which `
` embraced the gallant vessel on its course and wrecked it--thus! `
` `
` `
` Chapter 1 `
` `
` I am by birth a Genevese, and my family is one of the most `
` distinguished of that republic. My ancestors had been for many years `
` counsellors and syndics, and my father had filled several public `
` situations with honour and reputation. He was respected by all who `
` knew him for his integrity and indefatigable attention to public `
` business. He passed his younger days perpetually occupied by the `
` affairs of his country; a variety of circumstances had prevented his `
` marrying early, nor was it until the decline of life that he became a `
` husband and the father of a family. `
` `
` As the circumstances of his marriage illustrate his character, I cannot `
` refrain from relating them. One of his most intimate friends was a `
` merchant who, from a flourishing state, fell, through numerous `
` mischances, into poverty. This man, whose name was Beaufort, was of a `
` proud and unbending disposition and could not bear to live in poverty `
` and oblivion in the same country where he had formerly been `
` distinguished for his rank and magnificence. Having paid his debts, `
` therefore, in the most honourable manner, he retreated with his `
` daughter to the town of Lucerne, where he lived unknown and in `
` wretchedness. My father loved Beaufort with the truest friendship and `
` was deeply grieved by his retreat in these unfortunate circumstances. `
` He bitterly deplored the false pride which led his friend to a conduct `
` so little worthy of the affection that united them. He lost no time in `
` endeavouring to seek him out, with the hope of persuading him to begin `
` the world again through his credit and assistance. Beaufort had taken `
` effectual measures to conceal himself, and it was ten months before my `
` father discovered his abode. Overjoyed at this discovery, he hastened `
` to the house, which was situated in a mean street near the Reuss. But `
` when he entered, misery and despair alone welcomed him. Beaufort had `
` saved but a very small sum of money from the wreck of his fortunes, but `
` it was sufficient to provide him with sustenance for some months, and `
` in the meantime he hoped to procure some respectable employment in a `
` merchant's house. The interval was, consequently, spent in inaction; `
` his grief only became more deep and rankling when he had leisure for `
`
` "Certainly; it would indeed be very impertinent and inhuman in me to `
` trouble you with any inquisitiveness of mine." `
` `
` "And yet you rescued me from a strange and perilous situation; you have `
` benevolently restored me to life." `
` `
` Soon after this he inquired if I thought that the breaking up of the `
` ice had destroyed the other sledge. I replied that I could not answer `
` with any degree of certainty, for the ice had not broken until near `
` midnight, and the traveller might have arrived at a place of safety `
` before that time; but of this I could not judge. From this time a new `
` spirit of life animated the decaying frame of the stranger. He `
` manifested the greatest eagerness to be upon deck to watch for the `
` sledge which had before appeared; but I have persuaded him to remain in `
` the cabin, for he is far too weak to sustain the rawness of the `
` atmosphere. I have promised that someone should watch for him and give `
` him instant notice if any new object should appear in sight. `
` `
` Such is my journal of what relates to this strange occurrence up to the `
` present day. The stranger has gradually improved in health but is very `
` silent and appears uneasy when anyone except myself enters his cabin. `
` Yet his manners are so conciliating and gentle that the sailors are all `
` interested in him, although they have had very little communication `
` with him. For my own part, I begin to love him as a brother, and his `
` constant and deep grief fills me with sympathy and compassion. He must `
` have been a noble creature in his better days, being even now in wreck `
` so attractive and amiable. I said in one of my letters, my dear `
` Margaret, that I should find no friend on the wide ocean; yet I have `
` found a man who, before his spirit had been broken by misery, I should `
` have been happy to have possessed as the brother of my heart. `
` `
` I shall continue my journal concerning the stranger at intervals, `
` should I have any fresh incidents to record. `
` `
` `
` August 13th, 17-- `
` `
` My affection for my guest increases every day. He excites at once my `
` admiration and my pity to an astonishing degree. How can I see so `
` noble a creature destroyed by misery without feeling the most poignant `
` grief? He is so gentle, yet so wise; his mind is so cultivated, and `
` when he speaks, although his words are culled with the choicest art, `
` yet they flow with rapidity and unparalleled eloquence. He is now much `
` recovered from his illness and is continually on the deck, apparently `
` watching for the sledge that preceded his own. Yet, although unhappy, `
` he is not so utterly occupied by his own misery but that he interests `
` himself deeply in the projects of others. He has frequently conversed `
` with me on mine, which I have communicated to him without disguise. He `
` entered attentively into all my arguments in favour of my eventual `
` success and into every minute detail of the measures I had taken to `
` secure it. I was easily led by the sympathy which he evinced to use `
` the language of my heart, to give utterance to the burning ardour of my `
` soul and to say, with all the fervour that warmed me, how gladly I `
` would sacrifice my fortune, my existence, my every hope, to the `
` furtherance of my enterprise. One man's life or death were but a small `
` price to pay for the acquirement of the knowledge which I sought, for `
` the dominion I should acquire and transmit over the elemental foes of `
` our race. As I spoke, a dark gloom spread over my listener's `
` countenance. At first I perceived that he tried to suppress his `
` emotion; he placed his hands before his eyes, and my voice quivered and `
` failed me as I beheld tears trickle fast from between his fingers; a `
` groan burst from his heaving breast. I paused; at length he spoke, in `
` broken accents: "Unhappy man! Do you share my madness? Have you `
` drunk also of the intoxicating draught? Hear me; let me reveal my `
` tale, and you will dash the cup from your lips!" `
` `
` Such words, you may imagine, strongly excited my curiosity; but the `
` paroxysm of grief that had seized the stranger overcame his weakened `
` powers, and many hours of repose and tranquil conversation were `
` necessary to restore his composure. Having conquered the violence of `
` his feelings, he appeared to despise himself for being the slave of `
` passion; and quelling the dark tyranny of despair, he led me again to `
` converse concerning myself personally. He asked me the history of my `
` earlier years. The tale was quickly told, but it awakened various `
` trains of reflection. I spoke of my desire of finding a friend, of my `
` thirst for a more intimate sympathy with a fellow mind than had ever `
` fallen to my lot, and expressed my conviction that a man could boast of `
` little happiness who did not enjoy this blessing. "I agree with you," `
` replied the stranger; "we are unfashioned creatures, but half made up, `
` if one wiser, better, dearer than ourselves--such a friend ought to `
` be--do not lend his aid to perfectionate our weak and faulty natures. I `
` once had a friend, the most noble of human creatures, and am entitled, `
` therefore, to judge respecting friendship. You have hope, and the `
` world before you, and have no cause for despair. But I--I have lost `
` everything and cannot begin life anew." `
` `
` As he said this his countenance became expressive of a calm, settled `
` grief that touched me to the heart. But he was silent and presently `
` retired to his cabin. `
` `
` Even broken in spirit as he is, no one can feel more deeply than he `
` does the beauties of nature. The starry sky, the sea, and every sight `
` afforded by these wonderful regions seem still to have the power of `
` elevating his soul from earth. Such a man has a double existence: he `
` may suffer misery and be overwhelmed by disappointments, yet when he `
` has retired into himself, he will be like a celestial spirit that has a `
` halo around him, within whose circle no grief or folly ventures. `
` `
` Will you smile at the enthusiasm I express concerning this divine `
` wanderer? You would not if you saw him. You have been tutored and `
` refined by books and retirement from the world, and you are therefore `
` somewhat fastidious; but this only renders you the more fit to `
` appreciate the extraordinary merits of this wonderful man. Sometimes I `
` have endeavoured to discover what quality it is which he possesses that `
` elevates him so immeasurably above any other person I ever knew. I `
` believe it to be an intuitive discernment, a quick but never-failing `
` power of judgment, a penetration into the causes of things, unequalled `
` for clearness and precision; add to this a facility of expression and a `
` voice whose varied intonations are soul-subduing music. `
` `
` `
` August 19, 17-- `
` `
` Yesterday the stranger said to me, "You may easily perceive, Captain `
` Walton, that I have suffered great and unparalleled misfortunes. I had `
` determined at one time that the memory of these evils should die with `
` me, but you have won me to alter my determination. You seek for `
` knowledge and wisdom, as I once did; and I ardently hope that the `
` gratification of your wishes may not be a serpent to sting you, as mine `
` has been. I do not know that the relation of my disasters will be `
` useful to you; yet, when I reflect that you are pursuing the same `
` course, exposing yourself to the same dangers which have rendered me `
` what I am, I imagine that you may deduce an apt moral from my tale, one `
` that may direct you if you succeed in your undertaking and console you `
` in case of failure. Prepare to hear of occurrences which are usually `
` deemed marvellous. Were we among the tamer scenes of nature I might `
` fear to encounter your unbelief, perhaps your ridicule; but many things `
` will appear possible in these wild and mysterious regions which would `
` provoke the laughter of those unacquainted with the ever-varied powers `
` of nature; nor can I doubt but that my tale conveys in its series `
` internal evidence of the truth of the events of which it is composed." `
` `
` You may easily imagine that I was much gratified by the offered `
` communication, yet I could not endure that he should renew his grief by `
` a recital of his misfortunes. I felt the greatest eagerness to hear `
` the promised narrative, partly from curiosity and partly from a strong `
` desire to ameliorate his fate if it were in my power. I expressed `
` these feelings in my answer. `
` `
` "I thank you," he replied, "for your sympathy, but it is useless; my `
` fate is nearly fulfilled. I wait but for one event, and then I shall `
` repose in peace. I understand your feeling," continued he, perceiving `
` that I wished to interrupt him; "but you are mistaken, my friend, if `
` thus you will allow me to name you; nothing can alter my destiny; `
` listen to my history, and you will perceive how irrevocably it is `
` determined." `
` `
` He then told me that he would commence his narrative the next day when `
` I should be at leisure. This promise drew from me the warmest thanks. `
` I have resolved every night, when I am not imperatively occupied by my `
` duties, to record, as nearly as possible in his own words, what he has `
` related during the day. If I should be engaged, I will at least make `
` notes. This manuscript will doubtless afford you the greatest `
` pleasure; but to me, who know him, and who hear it from his own `
` lips--with what interest and sympathy shall I read it in some future `
` day! Even now, as I commence my task, his full-toned voice swells in `
` my ears; his lustrous eyes dwell on me with all their melancholy `
` sweetness; I see his thin hand raised in animation, while the `
` lineaments of his face are irradiated by the soul within. `
` `
` Strange and harrowing must be his story, frightful the storm which `
` embraced the gallant vessel on its course and wrecked it--thus! `
` `
` `
` Chapter 1 `
` `
` I am by birth a Genevese, and my family is one of the most `
` distinguished of that republic. My ancestors had been for many years `
` counsellors and syndics, and my father had filled several public `
` situations with honour and reputation. He was respected by all who `
` knew him for his integrity and indefatigable attention to public `
` business. He passed his younger days perpetually occupied by the `
` affairs of his country; a variety of circumstances had prevented his `
` marrying early, nor was it until the decline of life that he became a `
` husband and the father of a family. `
` `
` As the circumstances of his marriage illustrate his character, I cannot `
` refrain from relating them. One of his most intimate friends was a `
` merchant who, from a flourishing state, fell, through numerous `
` mischances, into poverty. This man, whose name was Beaufort, was of a `
` proud and unbending disposition and could not bear to live in poverty `
` and oblivion in the same country where he had formerly been `
` distinguished for his rank and magnificence. Having paid his debts, `
` therefore, in the most honourable manner, he retreated with his `
` daughter to the town of Lucerne, where he lived unknown and in `
` wretchedness. My father loved Beaufort with the truest friendship and `
` was deeply grieved by his retreat in these unfortunate circumstances. `
` He bitterly deplored the false pride which led his friend to a conduct `
` so little worthy of the affection that united them. He lost no time in `
` endeavouring to seek him out, with the hope of persuading him to begin `
` the world again through his credit and assistance. Beaufort had taken `
` effectual measures to conceal himself, and it was ten months before my `
` father discovered his abode. Overjoyed at this discovery, he hastened `
` to the house, which was situated in a mean street near the Reuss. But `
` when he entered, misery and despair alone welcomed him. Beaufort had `
` saved but a very small sum of money from the wreck of his fortunes, but `
` it was sufficient to provide him with sustenance for some months, and `
` in the meantime he hoped to procure some respectable employment in a `
` merchant's house. The interval was, consequently, spent in inaction; `
` his grief only became more deep and rankling when he had leisure for `
`