Reading Help DRACULA by Bram Stoker Ch.1-12
gravely and somewhat severely. `
` `
` "Ye don't see aught funny! Ha-ha! But that's because ye don't gawm `
` the sorrowin' mother was a hell-cat that hated him because he was `
` acrewk'd, a regular lamiter he was, an' he hated her so that he `
` committed suicide in order that she mightn't get an insurance she put `
` on his life. He blew nigh the top of his head off with an old musket `
` that they had for scarin' crows with. 'Twarn't for crows then, for it `
` brought the clegs and the dowps to him. That's the way he fell off `
` the rocks. And, as to hopes of a glorious resurrection, I've often `
` heard him say masel' that he hoped he'd go to hell, for his mother was `
` so pious that she'd be sure to go to heaven, an' he didn't want to `
` addle where she was. Now isn't that stean at any rate," he hammered `
` it with his stick as he spoke, "a pack of lies? And won't it make `
` Gabriel keckle when Geordie comes pantin' ut the grees with the `
` tompstean balanced on his hump, and asks to be took as evidence!" `
` `
` I did not know what to say, but Lucy turned the conversation as she `
` said, rising up, "Oh, why did you tell us of this? It is my favourite `
` seat, and I cannot leave it, and now I find I must go on sitting over `
` the grave of a suicide." `
` `
` "That won't harm ye, my pretty, an' it may make poor Geordie gladsome `
` to have so trim a lass sittin' on his lap. That won't hurt ye. Why, `
` I've sat here off an' on for nigh twenty years past, an' it hasn't `
` done me no harm. Don't ye fash about them as lies under ye, or that `
` doesn' lie there either! It'll be time for ye to be getting scart `
` when ye see the tombsteans all run away with, and the place as bare as `
` a stubble-field. There's the clock, and I must gang. My service to `
` ye, ladies!" And off he hobbled. `
` `
` Lucy and I sat awhile, and it was all so beautiful before us that we `
` took hands as we sat, and she told me all over again about Arthur and `
` their coming marriage. That made me just a little heart-sick, for I `
` haven't heard from Jonathan for a whole month. `
` `
` `
` The same day. I came up here alone, for I am very sad. There was no `
` letter for me. I hope there cannot be anything the matter with `
` Jonathan. The clock has just struck nine. I see the lights scattered `
` all over the town, sometimes in rows where the streets are, and `
` sometimes singly. They run right up the Esk and die away in the curve `
` of the valley. To my left the view is cut off by a black line of roof `
` of the old house next to the abbey. The sheep and lambs are bleating `
` in the fields away behind me, and there is a clatter of donkeys' hoofs `
` up the paved road below. The band on the pier is playing a harsh `
` waltz in good time, and further along the quay there is a Salvation `
` Army meeting in a back street. Neither of the bands hears the other, `
` but up here I hear and see them both. I wonder where Jonathan is and `
` if he is thinking of me! I wish he were here. `
` `
` `
` `
` DR. SEWARD'S DIARY `
` `
` 5 June.--The case of Renfield grows more interesting the more I get to `
` understand the man. He has certain qualities very largely developed, `
` selfishness, secrecy, and purpose. `
` `
` I wish I could get at what is the object of the latter. He seems to `
` have some settled scheme of his own, but what it is I do not know. `
` His redeeming quality is a love of animals, though, indeed, he has `
` such curious turns in it that I sometimes imagine he is only `
` abnormally cruel. His pets are of odd sorts. `
` `
` Just now his hobby is catching flies. He has at present such a `
` quantity that I have had myself to expostulate. To my astonishment, `
` he did not break out into a fury, as I expected, but took the matter `
` in simple seriousness. He thought for a moment, and then said, "May I `
` have three days? I shall clear them away." Of course, I said that `
` would do. I must watch him. `
` `
` `
` 18 June.--He has turned his mind now to spiders, and has got several `
` very big fellows in a box. He keeps feeding them his flies, and the `
` number of the latter is becoming sensibly diminished, although he has `
` used half his food in attracting more flies from outside to his room. `
` `
` `
` 1 July.--His spiders are now becoming as great a nuisance as his `
` flies, and today I told him that he must get rid of them. `
` `
` He looked very sad at this, so I said that he must some of them, at `
` all events. He cheerfully acquiesced in this, and I gave him the same `
` time as before for reduction. `
` `
` He disgusted me much while with him, for when a horrid blowfly, `
` bloated with some carrion food, buzzed into the room, he caught it, `
` held it exultantly for a few moments between his finger and thumb, and `
` before I knew what he was going to do, put it in his mouth and ate it. `
` `
` I scolded him for it, but he argued quietly that it was very good and `
` very wholesome, that it was life, strong life, and gave life to him. `
` This gave me an idea, or the rudiment of one. I must watch how he `
` gets rid of his spiders. `
` `
` He has evidently some deep problem in his mind, for he keeps a little `
` notebook in which he is always jotting down something. Whole pages of `
` it are filled with masses of figures, generally single numbers added `
` up in batches, and then the totals added in batches again, as though `
` he were focussing some account, as the auditors put it. `
` `
` `
` 8 July.--There is a method in his madness, and the rudimentary idea in `
` my mind is growing. It will be a whole idea soon, and then, oh, `
` unconscious cerebration, you will have to give the wall to your `
` conscious brother. `
` `
` I kept away from my friend for a few days, so that I might notice if `
` there were any change. Things remain as they were except that he has `
` parted with some of his pets and got a new one. `
` `
` He has managed to get a sparrow, and has already partially tamed it. `
` His means of taming is simple, for already the spiders have `
` diminished. Those that do remain, however, are well fed, for he still `
` brings in the flies by tempting them with his food. `
` `
` 19 July--We are progressing. My friend has now a whole colony of `
` sparrows, and his flies and spiders are almost obliterated. When I `
` came in he ran to me and said he wanted to ask me a great favour, a `
` very, very great favour. And as he spoke, he fawned on me like a dog. `
` `
` I asked him what it was, and he said, with a sort of rapture in his `
` voice and bearing, "A kitten, a nice, little, sleek playful kitten, `
` that I can play with, and teach, and feed, and feed, and feed!" `
` `
` I was not unprepared for this request, for I had noticed how his pets `
` went on increasing in size and vivacity, but I did not care that his `
` pretty family of tame sparrows should be wiped out in the same manner `
` as the flies and spiders. So I said I would see about it, and asked `
` him if he would not rather have a cat than a kitten. `
` `
` His eagerness betrayed him as he answered, "Oh, yes, I would like a `
` cat! I only asked for a kitten lest you should refuse me a cat. No `
` one would refuse me a kitten, would they?" `
` `
` I shook my head, and said that at present I feared it would not be `
` possible, but that I would see about it. His face fell, and I could `
` see a warning of danger in it, for there was a sudden fierce, sidelong `
` look which meant killing. The man is an undeveloped homicidal `
` maniac. I shall test him with his present craving and see how it will `
` work out, then I shall know more. `
` `
` `
` 10 pm.--I have visited him again and found him sitting in a corner `
` brooding. When I came in he threw himself on his knees before me and `
` implored me to let him have a cat, that his salvation depended upon `
` it. `
` `
` I was firm, however, and told him that he could not have it, whereupon `
` he went without a word, and sat down, gnawing his fingers, in the `
` corner where I had found him. I shall see him in the morning early. `
` `
` `
` 20 July.--Visited Renfield very early, before attendant went his `
` rounds. Found him up and humming a tune. He was spreading out his `
` sugar, which he had saved, in the window, and was manifestly beginning `
` his fly catching again, and beginning it cheerfully and with a good `
` grace. `
` `
` I looked around for his birds, and not seeing them, asked him where `
` they were. He replied, without turning round, that they had all flown `
` away. There were a few feathers about the room and on his pillow a `
` drop of blood. I said nothing, but went and told the keeper to report `
` to me if there were anything odd about him during the day. `
` `
` `
` 11 am.--The attendant has just been to see me to say that Renfield has `
` been very sick and has disgorged a whole lot of feathers. "My belief `
` is, doctor," he said, "that he has eaten his birds, and that he just `
` took and ate them raw!" `
` `
` `
` 11 pm.--I gave Renfield a strong opiate tonight, enough to make even `
` him sleep, and took away his pocketbook to look at it. The thought `
` that has been buzzing about my brain lately is complete, and the `
` theory proved. `
` `
` My homicidal maniac is of a peculiar kind. I shall have to invent a `
` new classification for him, and call him a zoophagous (life-eating) `
` maniac. What he desires is to absorb as many lives as he can, and he `
` has laid himself out to achieve it in a cumulative way. He gave many `
` flies to one spider and many spiders to one bird, and then wanted a `
` cat to eat the many birds. What would have been his later steps? `
` `
` It would almost be worth while to complete the experiment. It might `
` be done if there were only a sufficient cause. Men sneered at `
` vivisection, and yet look at its results today! Why not advance `
` science in its most difficult and vital aspect, the knowledge of the `
` brain? `
` `
` Had I even the secret of one such mind, did I hold the key to the `
` fancy of even one lunatic, I might advance my own branch of science to `
` a pitch compared with which Burdon-Sanderson's physiology or Ferrier's `
` brain knowledge would be as nothing. If only there were a sufficient `
` cause! I must not think too much of this, or I may be tempted. A `
` good cause might turn the scale with me, for may not I too be of an `
` exceptional brain, congenitally? `
` `
` How well the man reasoned. Lunatics always do within their own scope. `
` I wonder at how many lives he values a man, or if at only one. He has `
`
` `
` "Ye don't see aught funny! Ha-ha! But that's because ye don't gawm `
` the sorrowin' mother was a hell-cat that hated him because he was `
` acrewk'd, a regular lamiter he was, an' he hated her so that he `
` committed suicide in order that she mightn't get an insurance she put `
` on his life. He blew nigh the top of his head off with an old musket `
` that they had for scarin' crows with. 'Twarn't for crows then, for it `
` brought the clegs and the dowps to him. That's the way he fell off `
` the rocks. And, as to hopes of a glorious resurrection, I've often `
` heard him say masel' that he hoped he'd go to hell, for his mother was `
` so pious that she'd be sure to go to heaven, an' he didn't want to `
` addle where she was. Now isn't that stean at any rate," he hammered `
` it with his stick as he spoke, "a pack of lies? And won't it make `
` Gabriel keckle when Geordie comes pantin' ut the grees with the `
` tompstean balanced on his hump, and asks to be took as evidence!" `
` `
` I did not know what to say, but Lucy turned the conversation as she `
` said, rising up, "Oh, why did you tell us of this? It is my favourite `
` seat, and I cannot leave it, and now I find I must go on sitting over `
` the grave of a suicide." `
` `
` "That won't harm ye, my pretty, an' it may make poor Geordie gladsome `
` to have so trim a lass sittin' on his lap. That won't hurt ye. Why, `
` I've sat here off an' on for nigh twenty years past, an' it hasn't `
` done me no harm. Don't ye fash about them as lies under ye, or that `
` doesn' lie there either! It'll be time for ye to be getting scart `
` when ye see the tombsteans all run away with, and the place as bare as `
` a stubble-field. There's the clock, and I must gang. My service to `
` ye, ladies!" And off he hobbled. `
` `
` Lucy and I sat awhile, and it was all so beautiful before us that we `
` took hands as we sat, and she told me all over again about Arthur and `
` their coming marriage. That made me just a little heart-sick, for I `
` haven't heard from Jonathan for a whole month. `
` `
` `
` The same day. I came up here alone, for I am very sad. There was no `
` letter for me. I hope there cannot be anything the matter with `
` Jonathan. The clock has just struck nine. I see the lights scattered `
` all over the town, sometimes in rows where the streets are, and `
` sometimes singly. They run right up the Esk and die away in the curve `
` of the valley. To my left the view is cut off by a black line of roof `
` of the old house next to the abbey. The sheep and lambs are bleating `
` in the fields away behind me, and there is a clatter of donkeys' hoofs `
` up the paved road below. The band on the pier is playing a harsh `
` waltz in good time, and further along the quay there is a Salvation `
` Army meeting in a back street. Neither of the bands hears the other, `
` but up here I hear and see them both. I wonder where Jonathan is and `
` if he is thinking of me! I wish he were here. `
` `
` `
` `
` DR. SEWARD'S DIARY `
` `
` 5 June.--The case of Renfield grows more interesting the more I get to `
` understand the man. He has certain qualities very largely developed, `
` selfishness, secrecy, and purpose. `
` `
` I wish I could get at what is the object of the latter. He seems to `
` have some settled scheme of his own, but what it is I do not know. `
` His redeeming quality is a love of animals, though, indeed, he has `
` such curious turns in it that I sometimes imagine he is only `
` abnormally cruel. His pets are of odd sorts. `
` `
` Just now his hobby is catching flies. He has at present such a `
` quantity that I have had myself to expostulate. To my astonishment, `
` he did not break out into a fury, as I expected, but took the matter `
` in simple seriousness. He thought for a moment, and then said, "May I `
` have three days? I shall clear them away." Of course, I said that `
` would do. I must watch him. `
` `
` `
` 18 June.--He has turned his mind now to spiders, and has got several `
` very big fellows in a box. He keeps feeding them his flies, and the `
` number of the latter is becoming sensibly diminished, although he has `
` used half his food in attracting more flies from outside to his room. `
` `
` `
` 1 July.--His spiders are now becoming as great a nuisance as his `
` flies, and today I told him that he must get rid of them. `
` `
` He looked very sad at this, so I said that he must some of them, at `
` all events. He cheerfully acquiesced in this, and I gave him the same `
` time as before for reduction. `
` `
` He disgusted me much while with him, for when a horrid blowfly, `
` bloated with some carrion food, buzzed into the room, he caught it, `
` held it exultantly for a few moments between his finger and thumb, and `
` before I knew what he was going to do, put it in his mouth and ate it. `
` `
` I scolded him for it, but he argued quietly that it was very good and `
` very wholesome, that it was life, strong life, and gave life to him. `
` This gave me an idea, or the rudiment of one. I must watch how he `
` gets rid of his spiders. `
` `
` He has evidently some deep problem in his mind, for he keeps a little `
` notebook in which he is always jotting down something. Whole pages of `
` it are filled with masses of figures, generally single numbers added `
` up in batches, and then the totals added in batches again, as though `
` he were focussing some account, as the auditors put it. `
` `
` `
` 8 July.--There is a method in his madness, and the rudimentary idea in `
` my mind is growing. It will be a whole idea soon, and then, oh, `
` unconscious cerebration, you will have to give the wall to your `
` conscious brother. `
` `
` I kept away from my friend for a few days, so that I might notice if `
` there were any change. Things remain as they were except that he has `
` parted with some of his pets and got a new one. `
` `
` He has managed to get a sparrow, and has already partially tamed it. `
` His means of taming is simple, for already the spiders have `
` diminished. Those that do remain, however, are well fed, for he still `
` brings in the flies by tempting them with his food. `
` `
` 19 July--We are progressing. My friend has now a whole colony of `
` sparrows, and his flies and spiders are almost obliterated. When I `
` came in he ran to me and said he wanted to ask me a great favour, a `
` very, very great favour. And as he spoke, he fawned on me like a dog. `
` `
` I asked him what it was, and he said, with a sort of rapture in his `
` voice and bearing, "A kitten, a nice, little, sleek playful kitten, `
` that I can play with, and teach, and feed, and feed, and feed!" `
` `
` I was not unprepared for this request, for I had noticed how his pets `
` went on increasing in size and vivacity, but I did not care that his `
` pretty family of tame sparrows should be wiped out in the same manner `
` as the flies and spiders. So I said I would see about it, and asked `
` him if he would not rather have a cat than a kitten. `
` `
` His eagerness betrayed him as he answered, "Oh, yes, I would like a `
` cat! I only asked for a kitten lest you should refuse me a cat. No `
` one would refuse me a kitten, would they?" `
` `
` I shook my head, and said that at present I feared it would not be `
` possible, but that I would see about it. His face fell, and I could `
` see a warning of danger in it, for there was a sudden fierce, sidelong `
` look which meant killing. The man is an undeveloped homicidal `
` maniac. I shall test him with his present craving and see how it will `
` work out, then I shall know more. `
` `
` `
` 10 pm.--I have visited him again and found him sitting in a corner `
` brooding. When I came in he threw himself on his knees before me and `
` implored me to let him have a cat, that his salvation depended upon `
` it. `
` `
` I was firm, however, and told him that he could not have it, whereupon `
` he went without a word, and sat down, gnawing his fingers, in the `
` corner where I had found him. I shall see him in the morning early. `
` `
` `
` 20 July.--Visited Renfield very early, before attendant went his `
` rounds. Found him up and humming a tune. He was spreading out his `
` sugar, which he had saved, in the window, and was manifestly beginning `
` his fly catching again, and beginning it cheerfully and with a good `
` grace. `
` `
` I looked around for his birds, and not seeing them, asked him where `
` they were. He replied, without turning round, that they had all flown `
` away. There were a few feathers about the room and on his pillow a `
` drop of blood. I said nothing, but went and told the keeper to report `
` to me if there were anything odd about him during the day. `
` `
` `
` 11 am.--The attendant has just been to see me to say that Renfield has `
` been very sick and has disgorged a whole lot of feathers. "My belief `
` is, doctor," he said, "that he has eaten his birds, and that he just `
` took and ate them raw!" `
` `
` `
` 11 pm.--I gave Renfield a strong opiate tonight, enough to make even `
` him sleep, and took away his pocketbook to look at it. The thought `
` that has been buzzing about my brain lately is complete, and the `
` theory proved. `
` `
` My homicidal maniac is of a peculiar kind. I shall have to invent a `
` new classification for him, and call him a zoophagous (life-eating) `
` maniac. What he desires is to absorb as many lives as he can, and he `
` has laid himself out to achieve it in a cumulative way. He gave many `
` flies to one spider and many spiders to one bird, and then wanted a `
` cat to eat the many birds. What would have been his later steps? `
` `
` It would almost be worth while to complete the experiment. It might `
` be done if there were only a sufficient cause. Men sneered at `
` vivisection, and yet look at its results today! Why not advance `
` science in its most difficult and vital aspect, the knowledge of the `
` brain? `
` `
` Had I even the secret of one such mind, did I hold the key to the `
` fancy of even one lunatic, I might advance my own branch of science to `
` a pitch compared with which Burdon-Sanderson's physiology or Ferrier's `
` brain knowledge would be as nothing. If only there were a sufficient `
` cause! I must not think too much of this, or I may be tempted. A `
` good cause might turn the scale with me, for may not I too be of an `
` exceptional brain, congenitally? `
` `
` How well the man reasoned. Lunatics always do within their own scope. `
` I wonder at how many lives he values a man, or if at only one. He has `
`