Reading Help Frankenstein Ch.10-24
beholding it? I feel yet parched with horror, nor can I reflect on `
` that terrible moment without shuddering and agony. The examination, `
` the presence of the magistrate and witnesses, passed like a dream from `
` my memory when I saw the lifeless form of Henry Clerval stretched `
` before me. I gasped for breath, and throwing myself on the body, I `
` exclaimed, "Have my murderous machinations deprived you also, my `
` dearest Henry, of life? Two I have already destroyed; other victims `
` await their destiny; but you, Clerval, my friend, my benefactor--" `
` `
` The human frame could no longer support the agonies that I endured, and `
` I was carried out of the room in strong convulsions. A fever succeeded `
` to this. I lay for two months on the point of death; my ravings, as I `
` afterwards heard, were frightful; I called myself the murderer of `
` William, of Justine, and of Clerval. Sometimes I entreated my `
` attendants to assist me in the destruction of the fiend by whom I was `
` tormented; and at others I felt the fingers of the monster already `
` grasping my neck, and screamed aloud with agony and terror. `
` Fortunately, as I spoke my native language, Mr. Kirwin alone understood `
` me; but my gestures and bitter cries were sufficient to affright the `
` other witnesses. Why did I not die? More miserable than man ever was `
` before, why did I not sink into forgetfulness and rest? Death snatches `
` away many blooming children, the only hopes of their doting parents; `
` how many brides and youthful lovers have been one day in the bloom of `
` health and hope, and the next a prey for worms and the decay of the `
` tomb! Of what materials was I made that I could thus resist so many `
` shocks, which, like the turning of the wheel, continually renewed the `
` torture? `
` `
` But I was doomed to live and in two months found myself as awaking from `
` a dream, in a prison, stretched on a wretched bed, surrounded by `
` jailers, turnkeys, bolts, and all the miserable apparatus of a `
` dungeon. It was morning, I remember, when I thus awoke to `
` understanding; I had forgotten the particulars of what had happened and `
` only felt as if some great misfortune had suddenly overwhelmed me; but `
` when I looked around and saw the barred windows and the squalidness of `
` the room in which I was, all flashed across my memory and I groaned `
` bitterly. `
` `
` This sound disturbed an old woman who was sleeping in a chair beside `
` me. She was a hired nurse, the wife of one of the turnkeys, and her `
` countenance expressed all those bad qualities which often characterize `
` that class. The lines of her face were hard and rude, like that of `
` persons accustomed to see without sympathizing in sights of misery. Her `
` tone expressed her entire indifference; she addressed me in English, `
` and the voice struck me as one that I had heard during my sufferings. `
` "Are you better now, sir?" said she. `
` `
` I replied in the same language, with a feeble voice, "I believe I am; `
` but if it be all true, if indeed I did not dream, I am sorry that I am `
` still alive to feel this misery and horror." `
` `
` "For that matter," replied the old woman, "if you mean about the `
` gentleman you murdered, I believe that it were better for you if you `
` were dead, for I fancy it will go hard with you! However, that's none `
` of my business; I am sent to nurse you and get you well; I do my duty `
` with a safe conscience; it were well if everybody did the same." `
` `
` I turned with loathing from the woman who could utter so unfeeling a `
` speech to a person just saved, on the very edge of death; but I felt `
` languid and unable to reflect on all that had passed. The whole series `
` of my life appeared to me as a dream; I sometimes doubted if indeed it `
` were all true, for it never presented itself to my mind with the force `
` of reality. `
` `
` As the images that floated before me became more distinct, I grew `
` feverish; a darkness pressed around me; no one was near me who soothed `
` me with the gentle voice of love; no dear hand supported me. The `
` physician came and prescribed medicines, and the old woman prepared `
` them for me; but utter carelessness was visible in the first, and the `
` expression of brutality was strongly marked in the visage of the `
` second. Who could be interested in the fate of a murderer but the `
` hangman who would gain his fee? `
` `
` These were my first reflections, but I soon learned that Mr. Kirwin had `
` shown me extreme kindness. He had caused the best room in the prison `
` to be prepared for me (wretched indeed was the best); and it was he who `
` had provided a physician and a nurse. It is true, he seldom came to `
` see me, for although he ardently desired to relieve the sufferings of `
` every human creature, he did not wish to be present at the agonies and `
` miserable ravings of a murderer. He came, therefore, sometimes to see `
` that I was not neglected, but his visits were short and with long `
` intervals. One day, while I was gradually recovering, I was seated in `
` a chair, my eyes half open and my cheeks livid like those in death. I `
` was overcome by gloom and misery and often reflected I had better seek `
` death than desire to remain in a world which to me was replete with `
` wretchedness. At one time I considered whether I should not declare `
` myself guilty and suffer the penalty of the law, less innocent than `
` poor Justine had been. Such were my thoughts when the door of my `
` apartment was opened and Mr. Kirwin entered. His countenance expressed `
` sympathy and compassion; he drew a chair close to mine and addressed me `
` in French, "I fear that this place is very shocking to you; can I do `
` anything to make you more comfortable?" `
` `
` "I thank you, but all that you mention is nothing to me; on the whole `
` earth there is no comfort which I am capable of receiving." `
` `
` "I know that the sympathy of a stranger can be but of little relief to `
` one borne down as you are by so strange a misfortune. But you will, I `
` hope, soon quit this melancholy abode, for doubtless evidence can `
` easily be brought to free you from the criminal charge." `
` `
` "That is my least concern; I am, by a course of strange events, become `
` the most miserable of mortals. Persecuted and tortured as I am and `
` have been, can death be any evil to me?" `
` `
` "Nothing indeed could be more unfortunate and agonizing than the `
` strange chances that have lately occurred. You were thrown, by some `
` surprising accident, on this shore, renowned for its hospitality, `
` seized immediately, and charged with murder. The first sight that was `
` presented to your eyes was the body of your friend, murdered in so `
` unaccountable a manner and placed, as it were, by some fiend across `
` your path." `
` `
` As Mr. Kirwin said this, notwithstanding the agitation I endured on `
` this retrospect of my sufferings, I also felt considerable surprise at `
` the knowledge he seemed to possess concerning me. I suppose some `
` astonishment was exhibited in my countenance, for Mr. Kirwin hastened `
` to say, "Immediately upon your being taken ill, all the papers that `
` were on your person were brought me, and I examined them that I might `
` discover some trace by which I could send to your relations an account `
` of your misfortune and illness. I found several letters, and, among `
` others, one which I discovered from its commencement to be from your `
` father. I instantly wrote to Geneva; nearly two months have elapsed `
` since the departure of my letter. But you are ill; even now you `
` tremble; you are unfit for agitation of any kind." `
` `
` "This suspense is a thousand times worse than the most horrible event; `
` tell me what new scene of death has been acted, and whose murder I am `
` now to lament?" `
` `
` "Your family is perfectly well," said Mr. Kirwin with gentleness; "and `
` someone, a friend, is come to visit you." `
` `
` I know not by what chain of thought the idea presented itself, but it `
` instantly darted into my mind that the murderer had come to mock at my `
` misery and taunt me with the death of Clerval, as a new incitement for `
` me to comply with his hellish desires. I put my hand before my eyes, `
` and cried out in agony, "Oh! Take him away! I cannot see him; for `
` God's sake, do not let him enter!" `
` `
` Mr. Kirwin regarded me with a troubled countenance. He could not help `
` regarding my exclamation as a presumption of my guilt and said in `
` rather a severe tone, "I should have thought, young man, that the `
` presence of your father would have been welcome instead of inspiring `
` such violent repugnance." `
` `
` "My father!" cried I, while every feature and every muscle was relaxed `
` from anguish to pleasure. "Is my father indeed come? How kind, how `
` very kind! But where is he, why does he not hasten to me?" `
` `
` My change of manner surprised and pleased the magistrate; perhaps he `
` thought that my former exclamation was a momentary return of delirium, `
` and now he instantly resumed his former benevolence. He rose and `
` quitted the room with my nurse, and in a moment my father entered it. `
` `
` Nothing, at this moment, could have given me greater pleasure than the `
` arrival of my father. I stretched out my hand to him and cried, "Are `
` you, then, safe--and Elizabeth--and Ernest?" My father calmed me with `
` assurances of their welfare and endeavoured, by dwelling on these `
` subjects so interesting to my heart, to raise my desponding spirits; `
` but he soon felt that a prison cannot be the abode of cheerfulness. `
` `
` "What a place is this that you inhabit, my son!" said he, looking `
` mournfully at the barred windows and wretched appearance of the room. `
` "You travelled to seek happiness, but a fatality seems to pursue you. `
` And poor Clerval--" `
` `
` The name of my unfortunate and murdered friend was an agitation too `
` great to be endured in my weak state; I shed tears. "Alas! Yes, my `
` father," replied I; "some destiny of the most horrible kind hangs over `
` me, and I must live to fulfil it, or surely I should have died on the `
` coffin of Henry." `
` `
` We were not allowed to converse for any length of time, for the `
` precarious state of my health rendered every precaution necessary that `
` could ensure tranquillity. Mr. Kirwin came in and insisted that my `
` strength should not be exhausted by too much exertion. But the `
` appearance of my father was to me like that of my good angel, and I `
` gradually recovered my health. `
` `
` As my sickness quitted me, I was absorbed by a gloomy and black `
` melancholy that nothing could dissipate. The image of Clerval was `
` forever before me, ghastly and murdered. More than once the agitation `
` into which these reflections threw me made my friends dread a dangerous `
` relapse. Alas! Why did they preserve so miserable and detested a `
` life? It was surely that I might fulfil my destiny, which is now `
` drawing to a close. Soon, oh, very soon, will death extinguish these `
` throbbings and relieve me from the mighty weight of anguish that bears `
` me to the dust; and, in executing the award of justice, I shall also `
` sink to rest. Then the appearance of death was distant, although the `
` wish was ever present to my thoughts; and I often sat for hours `
` motionless and speechless, wishing for some mighty revolution that `
` might bury me and my destroyer in its ruins. `
` `
` The season of the assizes approached. I had already been three months `
` in prison, and although I was still weak and in continual danger of a `
` relapse, I was obliged to travel nearly a hundred miles to the country `
` town where the court was held. Mr. Kirwin charged himself with every `
` care of collecting witnesses and arranging my defence. I was spared `
` the disgrace of appearing publicly as a criminal, as the case was not `
` brought before the court that decides on life and death. The grand `
`
` that terrible moment without shuddering and agony. The examination, `
` the presence of the magistrate and witnesses, passed like a dream from `
` my memory when I saw the lifeless form of Henry Clerval stretched `
` before me. I gasped for breath, and throwing myself on the body, I `
` exclaimed, "Have my murderous machinations deprived you also, my `
` dearest Henry, of life? Two I have already destroyed; other victims `
` await their destiny; but you, Clerval, my friend, my benefactor--" `
` `
` The human frame could no longer support the agonies that I endured, and `
` I was carried out of the room in strong convulsions. A fever succeeded `
` to this. I lay for two months on the point of death; my ravings, as I `
` afterwards heard, were frightful; I called myself the murderer of `
` William, of Justine, and of Clerval. Sometimes I entreated my `
` attendants to assist me in the destruction of the fiend by whom I was `
` tormented; and at others I felt the fingers of the monster already `
` grasping my neck, and screamed aloud with agony and terror. `
` Fortunately, as I spoke my native language, Mr. Kirwin alone understood `
` me; but my gestures and bitter cries were sufficient to affright the `
` other witnesses. Why did I not die? More miserable than man ever was `
` before, why did I not sink into forgetfulness and rest? Death snatches `
` away many blooming children, the only hopes of their doting parents; `
` how many brides and youthful lovers have been one day in the bloom of `
` health and hope, and the next a prey for worms and the decay of the `
` tomb! Of what materials was I made that I could thus resist so many `
` shocks, which, like the turning of the wheel, continually renewed the `
` torture? `
` `
` But I was doomed to live and in two months found myself as awaking from `
` a dream, in a prison, stretched on a wretched bed, surrounded by `
` jailers, turnkeys, bolts, and all the miserable apparatus of a `
` dungeon. It was morning, I remember, when I thus awoke to `
` understanding; I had forgotten the particulars of what had happened and `
` only felt as if some great misfortune had suddenly overwhelmed me; but `
` when I looked around and saw the barred windows and the squalidness of `
` the room in which I was, all flashed across my memory and I groaned `
` bitterly. `
` `
` This sound disturbed an old woman who was sleeping in a chair beside `
` me. She was a hired nurse, the wife of one of the turnkeys, and her `
` countenance expressed all those bad qualities which often characterize `
` that class. The lines of her face were hard and rude, like that of `
` persons accustomed to see without sympathizing in sights of misery. Her `
` tone expressed her entire indifference; she addressed me in English, `
` and the voice struck me as one that I had heard during my sufferings. `
` "Are you better now, sir?" said she. `
` `
` I replied in the same language, with a feeble voice, "I believe I am; `
` but if it be all true, if indeed I did not dream, I am sorry that I am `
` still alive to feel this misery and horror." `
` `
` "For that matter," replied the old woman, "if you mean about the `
` gentleman you murdered, I believe that it were better for you if you `
` were dead, for I fancy it will go hard with you! However, that's none `
` of my business; I am sent to nurse you and get you well; I do my duty `
` with a safe conscience; it were well if everybody did the same." `
` `
` I turned with loathing from the woman who could utter so unfeeling a `
` speech to a person just saved, on the very edge of death; but I felt `
` languid and unable to reflect on all that had passed. The whole series `
` of my life appeared to me as a dream; I sometimes doubted if indeed it `
` were all true, for it never presented itself to my mind with the force `
` of reality. `
` `
` As the images that floated before me became more distinct, I grew `
` feverish; a darkness pressed around me; no one was near me who soothed `
` me with the gentle voice of love; no dear hand supported me. The `
` physician came and prescribed medicines, and the old woman prepared `
` them for me; but utter carelessness was visible in the first, and the `
` expression of brutality was strongly marked in the visage of the `
` second. Who could be interested in the fate of a murderer but the `
` hangman who would gain his fee? `
` `
` These were my first reflections, but I soon learned that Mr. Kirwin had `
` shown me extreme kindness. He had caused the best room in the prison `
` to be prepared for me (wretched indeed was the best); and it was he who `
` had provided a physician and a nurse. It is true, he seldom came to `
` see me, for although he ardently desired to relieve the sufferings of `
` every human creature, he did not wish to be present at the agonies and `
` miserable ravings of a murderer. He came, therefore, sometimes to see `
` that I was not neglected, but his visits were short and with long `
` intervals. One day, while I was gradually recovering, I was seated in `
` a chair, my eyes half open and my cheeks livid like those in death. I `
` was overcome by gloom and misery and often reflected I had better seek `
` death than desire to remain in a world which to me was replete with `
` wretchedness. At one time I considered whether I should not declare `
` myself guilty and suffer the penalty of the law, less innocent than `
` poor Justine had been. Such were my thoughts when the door of my `
` apartment was opened and Mr. Kirwin entered. His countenance expressed `
` sympathy and compassion; he drew a chair close to mine and addressed me `
` in French, "I fear that this place is very shocking to you; can I do `
` anything to make you more comfortable?" `
` `
` "I thank you, but all that you mention is nothing to me; on the whole `
` earth there is no comfort which I am capable of receiving." `
` `
` "I know that the sympathy of a stranger can be but of little relief to `
` one borne down as you are by so strange a misfortune. But you will, I `
` hope, soon quit this melancholy abode, for doubtless evidence can `
` easily be brought to free you from the criminal charge." `
` `
` "That is my least concern; I am, by a course of strange events, become `
` the most miserable of mortals. Persecuted and tortured as I am and `
` have been, can death be any evil to me?" `
` `
` "Nothing indeed could be more unfortunate and agonizing than the `
` strange chances that have lately occurred. You were thrown, by some `
` surprising accident, on this shore, renowned for its hospitality, `
` seized immediately, and charged with murder. The first sight that was `
` presented to your eyes was the body of your friend, murdered in so `
` unaccountable a manner and placed, as it were, by some fiend across `
` your path." `
` `
` As Mr. Kirwin said this, notwithstanding the agitation I endured on `
` this retrospect of my sufferings, I also felt considerable surprise at `
` the knowledge he seemed to possess concerning me. I suppose some `
` astonishment was exhibited in my countenance, for Mr. Kirwin hastened `
` to say, "Immediately upon your being taken ill, all the papers that `
` were on your person were brought me, and I examined them that I might `
` discover some trace by which I could send to your relations an account `
` of your misfortune and illness. I found several letters, and, among `
` others, one which I discovered from its commencement to be from your `
` father. I instantly wrote to Geneva; nearly two months have elapsed `
` since the departure of my letter. But you are ill; even now you `
` tremble; you are unfit for agitation of any kind." `
` `
` "This suspense is a thousand times worse than the most horrible event; `
` tell me what new scene of death has been acted, and whose murder I am `
` now to lament?" `
` `
` "Your family is perfectly well," said Mr. Kirwin with gentleness; "and `
` someone, a friend, is come to visit you." `
` `
` I know not by what chain of thought the idea presented itself, but it `
` instantly darted into my mind that the murderer had come to mock at my `
` misery and taunt me with the death of Clerval, as a new incitement for `
` me to comply with his hellish desires. I put my hand before my eyes, `
` and cried out in agony, "Oh! Take him away! I cannot see him; for `
` God's sake, do not let him enter!" `
` `
` Mr. Kirwin regarded me with a troubled countenance. He could not help `
` regarding my exclamation as a presumption of my guilt and said in `
` rather a severe tone, "I should have thought, young man, that the `
` presence of your father would have been welcome instead of inspiring `
` such violent repugnance." `
` `
` "My father!" cried I, while every feature and every muscle was relaxed `
` from anguish to pleasure. "Is my father indeed come? How kind, how `
` very kind! But where is he, why does he not hasten to me?" `
` `
` My change of manner surprised and pleased the magistrate; perhaps he `
` thought that my former exclamation was a momentary return of delirium, `
` and now he instantly resumed his former benevolence. He rose and `
` quitted the room with my nurse, and in a moment my father entered it. `
` `
` Nothing, at this moment, could have given me greater pleasure than the `
` arrival of my father. I stretched out my hand to him and cried, "Are `
` you, then, safe--and Elizabeth--and Ernest?" My father calmed me with `
` assurances of their welfare and endeavoured, by dwelling on these `
` subjects so interesting to my heart, to raise my desponding spirits; `
` but he soon felt that a prison cannot be the abode of cheerfulness. `
` `
` "What a place is this that you inhabit, my son!" said he, looking `
` mournfully at the barred windows and wretched appearance of the room. `
` "You travelled to seek happiness, but a fatality seems to pursue you. `
` And poor Clerval--" `
` `
` The name of my unfortunate and murdered friend was an agitation too `
` great to be endured in my weak state; I shed tears. "Alas! Yes, my `
` father," replied I; "some destiny of the most horrible kind hangs over `
` me, and I must live to fulfil it, or surely I should have died on the `
` coffin of Henry." `
` `
` We were not allowed to converse for any length of time, for the `
` precarious state of my health rendered every precaution necessary that `
` could ensure tranquillity. Mr. Kirwin came in and insisted that my `
` strength should not be exhausted by too much exertion. But the `
` appearance of my father was to me like that of my good angel, and I `
` gradually recovered my health. `
` `
` As my sickness quitted me, I was absorbed by a gloomy and black `
` melancholy that nothing could dissipate. The image of Clerval was `
` forever before me, ghastly and murdered. More than once the agitation `
` into which these reflections threw me made my friends dread a dangerous `
` relapse. Alas! Why did they preserve so miserable and detested a `
` life? It was surely that I might fulfil my destiny, which is now `
` drawing to a close. Soon, oh, very soon, will death extinguish these `
` throbbings and relieve me from the mighty weight of anguish that bears `
` me to the dust; and, in executing the award of justice, I shall also `
` sink to rest. Then the appearance of death was distant, although the `
` wish was ever present to my thoughts; and I often sat for hours `
` motionless and speechless, wishing for some mighty revolution that `
` might bury me and my destroyer in its ruins. `
` `
` The season of the assizes approached. I had already been three months `
` in prison, and although I was still weak and in continual danger of a `
` relapse, I was obliged to travel nearly a hundred miles to the country `
` town where the court was held. Mr. Kirwin charged himself with every `
` care of collecting witnesses and arranging my defence. I was spared `
` the disgrace of appearing publicly as a criminal, as the case was not `
` brought before the court that decides on life and death. The grand `
`