Reading Help Frankenstein Ch.10-24
necessarily arise when I live in communion with an equal. I shall feel `
` the affections of a sensitive being and become linked to the chain of `
` existence and events from which I am now excluded." `
` `
` I paused some time to reflect on all he had related and the various `
` arguments which he had employed. I thought of the promise of virtues `
` which he had displayed on the opening of his existence and the `
` subsequent blight of all kindly feeling by the loathing and scorn which `
` his protectors had manifested towards him. His power and threats were `
` not omitted in my calculations; a creature who could exist in the ice `
` caves of the glaciers and hide himself from pursuit among the ridges of `
` inaccessible precipices was a being possessing faculties it would be `
` vain to cope with. After a long pause of reflection I concluded that `
` the justice due both to him and my fellow creatures demanded of me that `
` I should comply with his request. Turning to him, therefore, I said, `
` `
` "I consent to your demand, on your solemn oath to quit Europe forever, `
` and every other place in the neighbourhood of man, as soon as I shall `
` deliver into your hands a female who will accompany you in your exile." `
` `
` "I swear," he cried, "by the sun, and by the blue sky of heaven, and by `
` the fire of love that burns my heart, that if you grant my prayer, `
` while they exist you shall never behold me again. Depart to your home `
` and commence your labours; I shall watch their progress with `
` unutterable anxiety; and fear not but that when you are ready I shall `
` appear." `
` `
` Saying this, he suddenly quitted me, fearful, perhaps, of any change in `
` my sentiments. I saw him descend the mountain with greater speed than `
` the flight of an eagle, and quickly lost among the undulations of the `
` sea of ice. `
` `
` His tale had occupied the whole day, and the sun was upon the verge of `
` the horizon when he departed. I knew that I ought to hasten my descent `
` towards the valley, as I should soon be encompassed in darkness; but my `
` heart was heavy, and my steps slow. The labour of winding among the `
` little paths of the mountain and fixing my feet firmly as I advanced `
` perplexed me, occupied as I was by the emotions which the occurrences `
` of the day had produced. Night was far advanced when I came to the `
` halfway resting-place and seated myself beside the fountain. The stars `
` shone at intervals as the clouds passed from over them; the dark pines `
` rose before me, and every here and there a broken tree lay on the `
` ground; it was a scene of wonderful solemnity and stirred strange `
` thoughts within me. I wept bitterly, and clasping my hands in agony, I `
` exclaimed, "Oh! Stars and clouds and winds, ye are all about to mock `
` me; if ye really pity me, crush sensation and memory; let me become as `
` nought; but if not, depart, depart, and leave me in darkness." `
` `
` These were wild and miserable thoughts, but I cannot describe to you `
` how the eternal twinkling of the stars weighed upon me and how I `
` listened to every blast of wind as if it were a dull ugly siroc on its `
` way to consume me. `
` `
` Morning dawned before I arrived at the village of Chamounix; I took no `
` rest, but returned immediately to Geneva. Even in my own heart I could `
` give no expression to my sensations--they weighed on me with a `
` mountain's weight and their excess destroyed my agony beneath them. `
` Thus I returned home, and entering the house, presented myself to the `
` family. My haggard and wild appearance awoke intense alarm, but I `
` answered no question, scarcely did I speak. I felt as if I were placed `
` under a ban--as if I had no right to claim their sympathies--as if `
` never more might I enjoy companionship with them. Yet even thus I `
` loved them to adoration; and to save them, I resolved to dedicate `
` myself to my most abhorred task. The prospect of such an occupation `
` made every other circumstance of existence pass before me like a dream, `
` and that thought only had to me the reality of life. `
` `
` `
` Chapter 18 `
` `
` Day after day, week after week, passed away on my return to Geneva; and `
` I could not collect the courage to recommence my work. I feared the `
` vengeance of the disappointed fiend, yet I was unable to overcome my `
` repugnance to the task which was enjoined me. I found that I could not `
` compose a female without again devoting several months to profound `
` study and laborious disquisition. I had heard of some discoveries `
` having been made by an English philosopher, the knowledge of which was `
` material to my success, and I sometimes thought of obtaining my `
` father's consent to visit England for this purpose; but I clung to `
` every pretence of delay and shrank from taking the first step in an `
` undertaking whose immediate necessity began to appear less absolute to `
` me. A change indeed had taken place in me; my health, which had `
` hitherto declined, was now much restored; and my spirits, when `
` unchecked by the memory of my unhappy promise, rose proportionably. My `
` father saw this change with pleasure, and he turned his thoughts `
` towards the best method of eradicating the remains of my melancholy, `
` which every now and then would return by fits, and with a devouring `
` blackness overcast the approaching sunshine. At these moments I took `
` refuge in the most perfect solitude. I passed whole days on the lake `
` alone in a little boat, watching the clouds and listening to the `
` rippling of the waves, silent and listless. But the fresh air and `
` bright sun seldom failed to restore me to some degree of composure, and `
` on my return I met the salutations of my friends with a readier smile `
` and a more cheerful heart. `
` `
` It was after my return from one of these rambles that my father, `
` calling me aside, thus addressed me, `
` `
` "I am happy to remark, my dear son, that you have resumed your former `
` pleasures and seem to be returning to yourself. And yet you are still `
` unhappy and still avoid our society. For some time I was lost in `
` conjecture as to the cause of this, but yesterday an idea struck me, `
` and if it is well founded, I conjure you to avow it. Reserve on such a `
` point would be not only useless, but draw down treble misery on us `
` all." `
` `
` I trembled violently at his exordium, and my father continued--"I `
` confess, my son, that I have always looked forward to your marriage `
` with our dear Elizabeth as the tie of our domestic comfort and the stay `
` of my declining years. You were attached to each other from your `
` earliest infancy; you studied together, and appeared, in dispositions `
` and tastes, entirely suited to one another. But so blind is the `
` experience of man that what I conceived to be the best assistants to my `
` plan may have entirely destroyed it. You, perhaps, regard her as your `
` sister, without any wish that she might become your wife. Nay, you may `
` have met with another whom you may love; and considering yourself as `
` bound in honour to Elizabeth, this struggle may occasion the poignant `
` misery which you appear to feel." `
` `
` "My dear father, reassure yourself. I love my cousin tenderly and `
` sincerely. I never saw any woman who excited, as Elizabeth does, my `
` warmest admiration and affection. My future hopes and prospects are `
` entirely bound up in the expectation of our union." `
` `
` "The expression of your sentiments of this subject, my dear Victor, `
` gives me more pleasure than I have for some time experienced. If you `
` feel thus, we shall assuredly be happy, however present events may cast `
` a gloom over us. But it is this gloom which appears to have taken so `
` strong a hold of your mind that I wish to dissipate. Tell me, `
` therefore, whether you object to an immediate solemnization of the `
` marriage. We have been unfortunate, and recent events have drawn us `
` from that everyday tranquillity befitting my years and infirmities. You `
` are younger; yet I do not suppose, possessed as you are of a competent `
` fortune, that an early marriage would at all interfere with any future `
` plans of honour and utility that you may have formed. Do not suppose, `
` however, that I wish to dictate happiness to you or that a delay on `
` your part would cause me any serious uneasiness. Interpret my words `
` with candour and answer me, I conjure you, with confidence and `
` sincerity." `
` `
` I listened to my father in silence and remained for some time incapable `
` of offering any reply. I revolved rapidly in my mind a multitude of `
` thoughts and endeavoured to arrive at some conclusion. Alas! To me `
` the idea of an immediate union with my Elizabeth was one of horror and `
` dismay. I was bound by a solemn promise which I had not yet fulfilled `
` and dared not break, or if I did, what manifold miseries might not `
` impend over me and my devoted family! Could I enter into a festival `
` with this deadly weight yet hanging round my neck and bowing me to the `
` ground? I must perform my engagement and let the monster depart with `
` his mate before I allowed myself to enjoy the delight of a union from `
` which I expected peace. `
` `
` I remembered also the necessity imposed upon me of either journeying to `
` England or entering into a long correspondence with those philosophers `
` of that country whose knowledge and discoveries were of indispensable `
` use to me in my present undertaking. The latter method of obtaining `
` the desired intelligence was dilatory and unsatisfactory; besides, I `
` had an insurmountable aversion to the idea of engaging myself in my `
` loathsome task in my father's house while in habits of familiar `
` intercourse with those I loved. I knew that a thousand fearful `
` accidents might occur, the slightest of which would disclose a tale to `
` thrill all connected with me with horror. I was aware also that I `
` should often lose all self-command, all capacity of hiding the `
` harrowing sensations that would possess me during the progress of my `
` unearthly occupation. I must absent myself from all I loved while thus `
` employed. Once commenced, it would quickly be achieved, and I might be `
` restored to my family in peace and happiness. My promise fulfilled, `
` the monster would depart forever. Or (so my fond fancy imaged) some `
` accident might meanwhile occur to destroy him and put an end to my `
` slavery forever. `
` `
` These feelings dictated my answer to my father. I expressed a wish to `
` visit England, but concealing the true reasons of this request, I `
` clothed my desires under a guise which excited no suspicion, while I `
` urged my desire with an earnestness that easily induced my father to `
` comply. After so long a period of an absorbing melancholy that `
` resembled madness in its intensity and effects, he was glad to find `
` that I was capable of taking pleasure in the idea of such a journey, `
` and he hoped that change of scene and varied amusement would, before my `
` return, have restored me entirely to myself. `
` `
` The duration of my absence was left to my own choice; a few months, or `
` at most a year, was the period contemplated. One paternal kind `
` precaution he had taken to ensure my having a companion. Without `
` previously communicating with me, he had, in concert with Elizabeth, `
` arranged that Clerval should join me at Strasbourg. This interfered `
` with the solitude I coveted for the prosecution of my task; yet at the `
` commencement of my journey the presence of my friend could in no way be `
` an impediment, and truly I rejoiced that thus I should be saved many `
` hours of lonely, maddening reflection. Nay, Henry might stand between `
` me and the intrusion of my foe. If I were alone, would he not at times `
` force his abhorred presence on me to remind me of my task or to `
` contemplate its progress? `
` `
` To England, therefore, I was bound, and it was understood that my union `
` with Elizabeth should take place immediately on my return. My father's `
` age rendered him extremely averse to delay. For myself, there was one `
` reward I promised myself from my detested toils--one consolation for `
` my unparalleled sufferings; it was the prospect of that day when, `
` enfranchised from my miserable slavery, I might claim Elizabeth and `
` forget the past in my union with her. `
`
` the affections of a sensitive being and become linked to the chain of `
` existence and events from which I am now excluded." `
` `
` I paused some time to reflect on all he had related and the various `
` arguments which he had employed. I thought of the promise of virtues `
` which he had displayed on the opening of his existence and the `
` subsequent blight of all kindly feeling by the loathing and scorn which `
` his protectors had manifested towards him. His power and threats were `
` not omitted in my calculations; a creature who could exist in the ice `
` caves of the glaciers and hide himself from pursuit among the ridges of `
` inaccessible precipices was a being possessing faculties it would be `
` vain to cope with. After a long pause of reflection I concluded that `
` the justice due both to him and my fellow creatures demanded of me that `
` I should comply with his request. Turning to him, therefore, I said, `
` `
` "I consent to your demand, on your solemn oath to quit Europe forever, `
` and every other place in the neighbourhood of man, as soon as I shall `
` deliver into your hands a female who will accompany you in your exile." `
` `
` "I swear," he cried, "by the sun, and by the blue sky of heaven, and by `
` the fire of love that burns my heart, that if you grant my prayer, `
` while they exist you shall never behold me again. Depart to your home `
` and commence your labours; I shall watch their progress with `
` unutterable anxiety; and fear not but that when you are ready I shall `
` appear." `
` `
` Saying this, he suddenly quitted me, fearful, perhaps, of any change in `
` my sentiments. I saw him descend the mountain with greater speed than `
` the flight of an eagle, and quickly lost among the undulations of the `
` sea of ice. `
` `
` His tale had occupied the whole day, and the sun was upon the verge of `
` the horizon when he departed. I knew that I ought to hasten my descent `
` towards the valley, as I should soon be encompassed in darkness; but my `
` heart was heavy, and my steps slow. The labour of winding among the `
` little paths of the mountain and fixing my feet firmly as I advanced `
` perplexed me, occupied as I was by the emotions which the occurrences `
` of the day had produced. Night was far advanced when I came to the `
` halfway resting-place and seated myself beside the fountain. The stars `
` shone at intervals as the clouds passed from over them; the dark pines `
` rose before me, and every here and there a broken tree lay on the `
` ground; it was a scene of wonderful solemnity and stirred strange `
` thoughts within me. I wept bitterly, and clasping my hands in agony, I `
` exclaimed, "Oh! Stars and clouds and winds, ye are all about to mock `
` me; if ye really pity me, crush sensation and memory; let me become as `
` nought; but if not, depart, depart, and leave me in darkness." `
` `
` These were wild and miserable thoughts, but I cannot describe to you `
` how the eternal twinkling of the stars weighed upon me and how I `
` listened to every blast of wind as if it were a dull ugly siroc on its `
` way to consume me. `
` `
` Morning dawned before I arrived at the village of Chamounix; I took no `
` rest, but returned immediately to Geneva. Even in my own heart I could `
` give no expression to my sensations--they weighed on me with a `
` mountain's weight and their excess destroyed my agony beneath them. `
` Thus I returned home, and entering the house, presented myself to the `
` family. My haggard and wild appearance awoke intense alarm, but I `
` answered no question, scarcely did I speak. I felt as if I were placed `
` under a ban--as if I had no right to claim their sympathies--as if `
` never more might I enjoy companionship with them. Yet even thus I `
` loved them to adoration; and to save them, I resolved to dedicate `
` myself to my most abhorred task. The prospect of such an occupation `
` made every other circumstance of existence pass before me like a dream, `
` and that thought only had to me the reality of life. `
` `
` `
` Chapter 18 `
` `
` Day after day, week after week, passed away on my return to Geneva; and `
` I could not collect the courage to recommence my work. I feared the `
` vengeance of the disappointed fiend, yet I was unable to overcome my `
` repugnance to the task which was enjoined me. I found that I could not `
` compose a female without again devoting several months to profound `
` study and laborious disquisition. I had heard of some discoveries `
` having been made by an English philosopher, the knowledge of which was `
` material to my success, and I sometimes thought of obtaining my `
` father's consent to visit England for this purpose; but I clung to `
` every pretence of delay and shrank from taking the first step in an `
` undertaking whose immediate necessity began to appear less absolute to `
` me. A change indeed had taken place in me; my health, which had `
` hitherto declined, was now much restored; and my spirits, when `
` unchecked by the memory of my unhappy promise, rose proportionably. My `
` father saw this change with pleasure, and he turned his thoughts `
` towards the best method of eradicating the remains of my melancholy, `
` which every now and then would return by fits, and with a devouring `
` blackness overcast the approaching sunshine. At these moments I took `
` refuge in the most perfect solitude. I passed whole days on the lake `
` alone in a little boat, watching the clouds and listening to the `
` rippling of the waves, silent and listless. But the fresh air and `
` bright sun seldom failed to restore me to some degree of composure, and `
` on my return I met the salutations of my friends with a readier smile `
` and a more cheerful heart. `
` `
` It was after my return from one of these rambles that my father, `
` calling me aside, thus addressed me, `
` `
` "I am happy to remark, my dear son, that you have resumed your former `
` pleasures and seem to be returning to yourself. And yet you are still `
` unhappy and still avoid our society. For some time I was lost in `
` conjecture as to the cause of this, but yesterday an idea struck me, `
` and if it is well founded, I conjure you to avow it. Reserve on such a `
` point would be not only useless, but draw down treble misery on us `
` all." `
` `
` I trembled violently at his exordium, and my father continued--"I `
` confess, my son, that I have always looked forward to your marriage `
` with our dear Elizabeth as the tie of our domestic comfort and the stay `
` of my declining years. You were attached to each other from your `
` earliest infancy; you studied together, and appeared, in dispositions `
` and tastes, entirely suited to one another. But so blind is the `
` experience of man that what I conceived to be the best assistants to my `
` plan may have entirely destroyed it. You, perhaps, regard her as your `
` sister, without any wish that she might become your wife. Nay, you may `
` have met with another whom you may love; and considering yourself as `
` bound in honour to Elizabeth, this struggle may occasion the poignant `
` misery which you appear to feel." `
` `
` "My dear father, reassure yourself. I love my cousin tenderly and `
` sincerely. I never saw any woman who excited, as Elizabeth does, my `
` warmest admiration and affection. My future hopes and prospects are `
` entirely bound up in the expectation of our union." `
` `
` "The expression of your sentiments of this subject, my dear Victor, `
` gives me more pleasure than I have for some time experienced. If you `
` feel thus, we shall assuredly be happy, however present events may cast `
` a gloom over us. But it is this gloom which appears to have taken so `
` strong a hold of your mind that I wish to dissipate. Tell me, `
` therefore, whether you object to an immediate solemnization of the `
` marriage. We have been unfortunate, and recent events have drawn us `
` from that everyday tranquillity befitting my years and infirmities. You `
` are younger; yet I do not suppose, possessed as you are of a competent `
` fortune, that an early marriage would at all interfere with any future `
` plans of honour and utility that you may have formed. Do not suppose, `
` however, that I wish to dictate happiness to you or that a delay on `
` your part would cause me any serious uneasiness. Interpret my words `
` with candour and answer me, I conjure you, with confidence and `
` sincerity." `
` `
` I listened to my father in silence and remained for some time incapable `
` of offering any reply. I revolved rapidly in my mind a multitude of `
` thoughts and endeavoured to arrive at some conclusion. Alas! To me `
` the idea of an immediate union with my Elizabeth was one of horror and `
` dismay. I was bound by a solemn promise which I had not yet fulfilled `
` and dared not break, or if I did, what manifold miseries might not `
` impend over me and my devoted family! Could I enter into a festival `
` with this deadly weight yet hanging round my neck and bowing me to the `
` ground? I must perform my engagement and let the monster depart with `
` his mate before I allowed myself to enjoy the delight of a union from `
` which I expected peace. `
` `
` I remembered also the necessity imposed upon me of either journeying to `
` England or entering into a long correspondence with those philosophers `
` of that country whose knowledge and discoveries were of indispensable `
` use to me in my present undertaking. The latter method of obtaining `
` the desired intelligence was dilatory and unsatisfactory; besides, I `
` had an insurmountable aversion to the idea of engaging myself in my `
` loathsome task in my father's house while in habits of familiar `
` intercourse with those I loved. I knew that a thousand fearful `
` accidents might occur, the slightest of which would disclose a tale to `
` thrill all connected with me with horror. I was aware also that I `
` should often lose all self-command, all capacity of hiding the `
` harrowing sensations that would possess me during the progress of my `
` unearthly occupation. I must absent myself from all I loved while thus `
` employed. Once commenced, it would quickly be achieved, and I might be `
` restored to my family in peace and happiness. My promise fulfilled, `
` the monster would depart forever. Or (so my fond fancy imaged) some `
` accident might meanwhile occur to destroy him and put an end to my `
` slavery forever. `
` `
` These feelings dictated my answer to my father. I expressed a wish to `
` visit England, but concealing the true reasons of this request, I `
` clothed my desires under a guise which excited no suspicion, while I `
` urged my desire with an earnestness that easily induced my father to `
` comply. After so long a period of an absorbing melancholy that `
` resembled madness in its intensity and effects, he was glad to find `
` that I was capable of taking pleasure in the idea of such a journey, `
` and he hoped that change of scene and varied amusement would, before my `
` return, have restored me entirely to myself. `
` `
` The duration of my absence was left to my own choice; a few months, or `
` at most a year, was the period contemplated. One paternal kind `
` precaution he had taken to ensure my having a companion. Without `
` previously communicating with me, he had, in concert with Elizabeth, `
` arranged that Clerval should join me at Strasbourg. This interfered `
` with the solitude I coveted for the prosecution of my task; yet at the `
` commencement of my journey the presence of my friend could in no way be `
` an impediment, and truly I rejoiced that thus I should be saved many `
` hours of lonely, maddening reflection. Nay, Henry might stand between `
` me and the intrusion of my foe. If I were alone, would he not at times `
` force his abhorred presence on me to remind me of my task or to `
` contemplate its progress? `
` `
` To England, therefore, I was bound, and it was understood that my union `
` with Elizabeth should take place immediately on my return. My father's `
` age rendered him extremely averse to delay. For myself, there was one `
` reward I promised myself from my detested toils--one consolation for `
` my unparalleled sufferings; it was the prospect of that day when, `
` enfranchised from my miserable slavery, I might claim Elizabeth and `
` forget the past in my union with her. `
`