Reading Help Frankenstein Ch.10-24
feel that burning hatred and ardent desire of revenge I once expressed; `
` but I feel myself justified in desiring the death of my adversary. `
` During these last days I have been occupied in examining my past `
` conduct; nor do I find it blamable. In a fit of enthusiastic madness I `
` created a rational creature and was bound towards him to assure, as far `
` as was in my power, his happiness and well-being. `
` `
` "This was my duty, but there was another still paramount to that. My `
` duties towards the beings of my own species had greater claims to my `
` attention because they included a greater proportion of happiness or `
` misery. Urged by this view, I refused, and I did right in refusing, to `
` create a companion for the first creature. He showed unparalleled `
` malignity and selfishness in evil; he destroyed my friends; he devoted `
` to destruction beings who possessed exquisite sensations, happiness, `
` and wisdom; nor do I know where this thirst for vengeance may end. `
` Miserable himself that he may render no other wretched, he ought to `
` die. The task of his destruction was mine, but I have failed. When `
` actuated by selfish and vicious motives, I asked you to undertake my `
` unfinished work, and I renew this request now, when I am only induced `
` by reason and virtue. `
` `
` "Yet I cannot ask you to renounce your country and friends to fulfil `
` this task; and now that you are returning to England, you will have `
` little chance of meeting with him. But the consideration of these `
` points, and the well balancing of what you may esteem your duties, I `
` leave to you; my judgment and ideas are already disturbed by the near `
` approach of death. I dare not ask you to do what I think right, for I `
` may still be misled by passion. `
` `
` "That he should live to be an instrument of mischief disturbs me; in `
` other respects, this hour, when I momentarily expect my release, is the `
` only happy one which I have enjoyed for several years. The forms of `
` the beloved dead flit before me, and I hasten to their arms. Farewell, `
` Walton! Seek happiness in tranquillity and avoid ambition, even if it `
` be only the apparently innocent one of distinguishing yourself in `
` science and discoveries. Yet why do I say this? I have myself been `
` blasted in these hopes, yet another may succeed." `
` `
` His voice became fainter as he spoke, and at length, exhausted by his `
` effort, he sank into silence. About half an hour afterwards he `
` attempted again to speak but was unable; he pressed my hand feebly, and `
` his eyes closed forever, while the irradiation of a gentle smile passed `
` away from his lips. `
` `
` Margaret, what comment can I make on the untimely extinction of this `
` glorious spirit? What can I say that will enable you to understand the `
` depth of my sorrow? All that I should express would be inadequate and `
` feeble. My tears flow; my mind is overshadowed by a cloud of `
` disappointment. But I journey towards England, and I may there find `
` consolation. `
` `
` I am interrupted. What do these sounds portend? It is midnight; the `
` breeze blows fairly, and the watch on deck scarcely stir. Again there `
` is a sound as of a human voice, but hoarser; it comes from the cabin `
` where the remains of Frankenstein still lie. I must arise and `
` examine. Good night, my sister. `
` `
` Great God! what a scene has just taken place! I am yet dizzy with the `
` remembrance of it. I hardly know whether I shall have the power to `
` detail it; yet the tale which I have recorded would be incomplete `
` without this final and wonderful catastrophe. I entered the cabin where `
` lay the remains of my ill-fated and admirable friend. Over him hung a `
` form which I cannot find words to describe--gigantic in stature, yet `
` uncouth and distorted in its proportions. As he hung over the coffin, `
` his face was concealed by long locks of ragged hair; but one vast hand `
` was extended, in colour and apparent texture like that of a mummy. When `
` he heard the sound of my approach, he ceased to utter exclamations of `
` grief and horror and sprung towards the window. Never did I behold a `
` vision so horrible as his face, of such loathsome yet appalling `
` hideousness. I shut my eyes involuntarily and endeavoured to recollect `
` what were my duties with regard to this destroyer. I called on him to `
` stay. `
` `
` He paused, looking on me with wonder, and again turning towards the `
` lifeless form of his creator, he seemed to forget my presence, and `
` every feature and gesture seemed instigated by the wildest rage of some `
` uncontrollable passion. `
` `
` "That is also my victim!" he exclaimed. "In his murder my crimes are `
` consummated; the miserable series of my being is wound to its close! `
` Oh, Frankenstein! Generous and self-devoted being! What does it avail `
` that I now ask thee to pardon me? I, who irretrievably destroyed thee `
` by destroying all thou lovedst. Alas! He is cold, he cannot answer `
` me." His voice seemed suffocated, and my first impulses, which had `
` suggested to me the duty of obeying the dying request of my friend in `
` destroying his enemy, were now suspended by a mixture of curiosity and `
` compassion. I approached this tremendous being; I dared not again `
` raise my eyes to his face, there was something so scaring and unearthly `
` in his ugliness. I attempted to speak, but the words died away on my `
` lips. The monster continued to utter wild and incoherent `
` self-reproaches. At length I gathered resolution to address him in a `
` pause of the tempest of his passion. `
` `
` "Your repentance," I said, "is now superfluous. If you had listened to `
` the voice of conscience and heeded the stings of remorse before you had `
` urged your diabolical vengeance to this extremity, Frankenstein would `
` yet have lived." `
` `
` "And do you dream?" said the daemon. "Do you think that I was then `
` dead to agony and remorse? He," he continued, pointing to the corpse, `
` "he suffered not in the consummation of the deed. Oh! Not the `
` ten-thousandth portion of the anguish that was mine during the `
` lingering detail of its execution. A frightful selfishness hurried me `
` on, while my heart was poisoned with remorse. Think you that the `
` groans of Clerval were music to my ears? My heart was fashioned to be `
` susceptible of love and sympathy, and when wrenched by misery to vice `
` and hatred, it did not endure the violence of the change without `
` torture such as you cannot even imagine. `
` `
` "After the murder of Clerval I returned to Switzerland, heart-broken `
` and overcome. I pitied Frankenstein; my pity amounted to horror; I `
` abhorred myself. But when I discovered that he, the author at once of `
` my existence and of its unspeakable torments, dared to hope for `
` happiness, that while he accumulated wretchedness and despair upon me `
` he sought his own enjoyment in feelings and passions from the `
` indulgence of which I was forever barred, then impotent envy and bitter `
` indignation filled me with an insatiable thirst for vengeance. I `
` recollected my threat and resolved that it should be accomplished. I `
` knew that I was preparing for myself a deadly torture, but I was the `
` slave, not the master, of an impulse which I detested yet could not `
` disobey. Yet when she died! Nay, then I was not miserable. I had `
` cast off all feeling, subdued all anguish, to riot in the excess of my `
` despair. Evil thenceforth became my good. Urged thus far, I had no `
` choice but to adapt my nature to an element which I had willingly `
` chosen. The completion of my demoniacal design became an insatiable `
` passion. And now it is ended; there is my last victim!" `
` `
` I was at first touched by the expressions of his misery; yet, when I `
` called to mind what Frankenstein had said of his powers of eloquence `
` and persuasion, and when I again cast my eyes on the lifeless form of `
` my friend, indignation was rekindled within me. "Wretch!" I said. "It `
` is well that you come here to whine over the desolation that you have `
` made. You throw a torch into a pile of buildings, and when they are `
` consumed, you sit among the ruins and lament the fall. Hypocritical `
` fiend! If he whom you mourn still lived, still would he be the object, `
` again would he become the prey, of your accursed vengeance. It is not `
` pity that you feel; you lament only because the victim of your `
` malignity is withdrawn from your power." `
` `
` "Oh, it is not thus--not thus," interrupted the being. "Yet such must `
` be the impression conveyed to you by what appears to be the purport of `
` my actions. Yet I seek not a fellow feeling in my misery. No sympathy `
` may I ever find. When I first sought it, it was the love of virtue, `
` the feelings of happiness and affection with which my whole being `
` overflowed, that I wished to be participated. But now that virtue has `
` become to me a shadow, and that happiness and affection are turned into `
` bitter and loathing despair, in what should I seek for sympathy? I am `
` content to suffer alone while my sufferings shall endure; when I die, I `
` am well satisfied that abhorrence and opprobrium should load my `
` memory. Once my fancy was soothed with dreams of virtue, of fame, and `
` of enjoyment. Once I falsely hoped to meet with beings who, pardoning `
` my outward form, would love me for the excellent qualities which I was `
` capable of unfolding. I was nourished with high thoughts of honour and `
` devotion. But now crime has degraded me beneath the meanest animal. No `
` guilt, no mischief, no malignity, no misery, can be found comparable to `
` mine. When I run over the frightful catalogue of my sins, I cannot `
` believe that I am the same creature whose thoughts were once filled `
` with sublime and transcendent visions of the beauty and the majesty of `
` goodness. But it is even so; the fallen angel becomes a malignant `
` devil. Yet even that enemy of God and man had friends and associates `
` in his desolation; I am alone. `
` `
` "You, who call Frankenstein your friend, seem to have a knowledge of `
` my crimes and his misfortunes. But in the detail which he gave you of `
` them he could not sum up the hours and months of misery which I `
` endured wasting in impotent passions. For while I destroyed his hopes, `
` I did not satisfy my own desires. They were forever ardent and `
` craving; still I desired love and fellowship, and I was still spurned. `
` Was there no injustice in this? Am I to be thought the only criminal, `
` when all humankind sinned against me? Why do you not hate Felix, who `
` drove his friend from his door with contumely? Why do you not execrate `
` the rustic who sought to destroy the saviour of his child? Nay, these `
` are virtuous and immaculate beings! I, the miserable and the `
` abandoned, am an abortion, to be spurned at, and kicked, and trampled `
` on. Even now my blood boils at the recollection of this injustice. `
` `
` "But it is true that I am a wretch. I have murdered the lovely and the `
` helpless; I have strangled the innocent as they slept and grasped to `
` death his throat who never injured me or any other living thing. I `
` have devoted my creator, the select specimen of all that is worthy of `
` love and admiration among men, to misery; I have pursued him even to `
` that irremediable ruin. `
` `
` "There he lies, white and cold in death. You hate me, but your `
` abhorrence cannot equal that with which I regard myself. I look on the `
` hands which executed the deed; I think on the heart in which the `
` imagination of it was conceived and long for the moment when these `
` hands will meet my eyes, when that imagination will haunt my thoughts `
` no more. `
` `
` "Fear not that I shall be the instrument of future mischief. My work `
` is nearly complete. Neither yours nor any man's death is needed to `
` consummate the series of my being and accomplish that which must be `
` done, but it requires my own. Do not think that I shall be slow to `
` perform this sacrifice. I shall quit your vessel on the ice raft which `
` brought me thither and shall seek the most northern extremity of the `
` globe; I shall collect my funeral pile and consume to ashes this `
` miserable frame, that its remains may afford no light to any curious `
` and unhallowed wretch who would create such another as I have been. I `
` shall die. I shall no longer feel the agonies which now consume me or `
` be the prey of feelings unsatisfied, yet unquenched. He is dead who `
`
` but I feel myself justified in desiring the death of my adversary. `
` During these last days I have been occupied in examining my past `
` conduct; nor do I find it blamable. In a fit of enthusiastic madness I `
` created a rational creature and was bound towards him to assure, as far `
` as was in my power, his happiness and well-being. `
` `
` "This was my duty, but there was another still paramount to that. My `
` duties towards the beings of my own species had greater claims to my `
` attention because they included a greater proportion of happiness or `
` misery. Urged by this view, I refused, and I did right in refusing, to `
` create a companion for the first creature. He showed unparalleled `
` malignity and selfishness in evil; he destroyed my friends; he devoted `
` to destruction beings who possessed exquisite sensations, happiness, `
` and wisdom; nor do I know where this thirst for vengeance may end. `
` Miserable himself that he may render no other wretched, he ought to `
` die. The task of his destruction was mine, but I have failed. When `
` actuated by selfish and vicious motives, I asked you to undertake my `
` unfinished work, and I renew this request now, when I am only induced `
` by reason and virtue. `
` `
` "Yet I cannot ask you to renounce your country and friends to fulfil `
` this task; and now that you are returning to England, you will have `
` little chance of meeting with him. But the consideration of these `
` points, and the well balancing of what you may esteem your duties, I `
` leave to you; my judgment and ideas are already disturbed by the near `
` approach of death. I dare not ask you to do what I think right, for I `
` may still be misled by passion. `
` `
` "That he should live to be an instrument of mischief disturbs me; in `
` other respects, this hour, when I momentarily expect my release, is the `
` only happy one which I have enjoyed for several years. The forms of `
` the beloved dead flit before me, and I hasten to their arms. Farewell, `
` Walton! Seek happiness in tranquillity and avoid ambition, even if it `
` be only the apparently innocent one of distinguishing yourself in `
` science and discoveries. Yet why do I say this? I have myself been `
` blasted in these hopes, yet another may succeed." `
` `
` His voice became fainter as he spoke, and at length, exhausted by his `
` effort, he sank into silence. About half an hour afterwards he `
` attempted again to speak but was unable; he pressed my hand feebly, and `
` his eyes closed forever, while the irradiation of a gentle smile passed `
` away from his lips. `
` `
` Margaret, what comment can I make on the untimely extinction of this `
` glorious spirit? What can I say that will enable you to understand the `
` depth of my sorrow? All that I should express would be inadequate and `
` feeble. My tears flow; my mind is overshadowed by a cloud of `
` disappointment. But I journey towards England, and I may there find `
` consolation. `
` `
` I am interrupted. What do these sounds portend? It is midnight; the `
` breeze blows fairly, and the watch on deck scarcely stir. Again there `
` is a sound as of a human voice, but hoarser; it comes from the cabin `
` where the remains of Frankenstein still lie. I must arise and `
` examine. Good night, my sister. `
` `
` Great God! what a scene has just taken place! I am yet dizzy with the `
` remembrance of it. I hardly know whether I shall have the power to `
` detail it; yet the tale which I have recorded would be incomplete `
` without this final and wonderful catastrophe. I entered the cabin where `
` lay the remains of my ill-fated and admirable friend. Over him hung a `
` form which I cannot find words to describe--gigantic in stature, yet `
` uncouth and distorted in its proportions. As he hung over the coffin, `
` his face was concealed by long locks of ragged hair; but one vast hand `
` was extended, in colour and apparent texture like that of a mummy. When `
` he heard the sound of my approach, he ceased to utter exclamations of `
` grief and horror and sprung towards the window. Never did I behold a `
` vision so horrible as his face, of such loathsome yet appalling `
` hideousness. I shut my eyes involuntarily and endeavoured to recollect `
` what were my duties with regard to this destroyer. I called on him to `
` stay. `
` `
` He paused, looking on me with wonder, and again turning towards the `
` lifeless form of his creator, he seemed to forget my presence, and `
` every feature and gesture seemed instigated by the wildest rage of some `
` uncontrollable passion. `
` `
` "That is also my victim!" he exclaimed. "In his murder my crimes are `
` consummated; the miserable series of my being is wound to its close! `
` Oh, Frankenstein! Generous and self-devoted being! What does it avail `
` that I now ask thee to pardon me? I, who irretrievably destroyed thee `
` by destroying all thou lovedst. Alas! He is cold, he cannot answer `
` me." His voice seemed suffocated, and my first impulses, which had `
` suggested to me the duty of obeying the dying request of my friend in `
` destroying his enemy, were now suspended by a mixture of curiosity and `
` compassion. I approached this tremendous being; I dared not again `
` raise my eyes to his face, there was something so scaring and unearthly `
` in his ugliness. I attempted to speak, but the words died away on my `
` lips. The monster continued to utter wild and incoherent `
` self-reproaches. At length I gathered resolution to address him in a `
` pause of the tempest of his passion. `
` `
` "Your repentance," I said, "is now superfluous. If you had listened to `
` the voice of conscience and heeded the stings of remorse before you had `
` urged your diabolical vengeance to this extremity, Frankenstein would `
` yet have lived." `
` `
` "And do you dream?" said the daemon. "Do you think that I was then `
` dead to agony and remorse? He," he continued, pointing to the corpse, `
` "he suffered not in the consummation of the deed. Oh! Not the `
` ten-thousandth portion of the anguish that was mine during the `
` lingering detail of its execution. A frightful selfishness hurried me `
` on, while my heart was poisoned with remorse. Think you that the `
` groans of Clerval were music to my ears? My heart was fashioned to be `
` susceptible of love and sympathy, and when wrenched by misery to vice `
` and hatred, it did not endure the violence of the change without `
` torture such as you cannot even imagine. `
` `
` "After the murder of Clerval I returned to Switzerland, heart-broken `
` and overcome. I pitied Frankenstein; my pity amounted to horror; I `
` abhorred myself. But when I discovered that he, the author at once of `
` my existence and of its unspeakable torments, dared to hope for `
` happiness, that while he accumulated wretchedness and despair upon me `
` he sought his own enjoyment in feelings and passions from the `
` indulgence of which I was forever barred, then impotent envy and bitter `
` indignation filled me with an insatiable thirst for vengeance. I `
` recollected my threat and resolved that it should be accomplished. I `
` knew that I was preparing for myself a deadly torture, but I was the `
` slave, not the master, of an impulse which I detested yet could not `
` disobey. Yet when she died! Nay, then I was not miserable. I had `
` cast off all feeling, subdued all anguish, to riot in the excess of my `
` despair. Evil thenceforth became my good. Urged thus far, I had no `
` choice but to adapt my nature to an element which I had willingly `
` chosen. The completion of my demoniacal design became an insatiable `
` passion. And now it is ended; there is my last victim!" `
` `
` I was at first touched by the expressions of his misery; yet, when I `
` called to mind what Frankenstein had said of his powers of eloquence `
` and persuasion, and when I again cast my eyes on the lifeless form of `
` my friend, indignation was rekindled within me. "Wretch!" I said. "It `
` is well that you come here to whine over the desolation that you have `
` made. You throw a torch into a pile of buildings, and when they are `
` consumed, you sit among the ruins and lament the fall. Hypocritical `
` fiend! If he whom you mourn still lived, still would he be the object, `
` again would he become the prey, of your accursed vengeance. It is not `
` pity that you feel; you lament only because the victim of your `
` malignity is withdrawn from your power." `
` `
` "Oh, it is not thus--not thus," interrupted the being. "Yet such must `
` be the impression conveyed to you by what appears to be the purport of `
` my actions. Yet I seek not a fellow feeling in my misery. No sympathy `
` may I ever find. When I first sought it, it was the love of virtue, `
` the feelings of happiness and affection with which my whole being `
` overflowed, that I wished to be participated. But now that virtue has `
` become to me a shadow, and that happiness and affection are turned into `
` bitter and loathing despair, in what should I seek for sympathy? I am `
` content to suffer alone while my sufferings shall endure; when I die, I `
` am well satisfied that abhorrence and opprobrium should load my `
` memory. Once my fancy was soothed with dreams of virtue, of fame, and `
` of enjoyment. Once I falsely hoped to meet with beings who, pardoning `
` my outward form, would love me for the excellent qualities which I was `
` capable of unfolding. I was nourished with high thoughts of honour and `
` devotion. But now crime has degraded me beneath the meanest animal. No `
` guilt, no mischief, no malignity, no misery, can be found comparable to `
` mine. When I run over the frightful catalogue of my sins, I cannot `
` believe that I am the same creature whose thoughts were once filled `
` with sublime and transcendent visions of the beauty and the majesty of `
` goodness. But it is even so; the fallen angel becomes a malignant `
` devil. Yet even that enemy of God and man had friends and associates `
` in his desolation; I am alone. `
` `
` "You, who call Frankenstein your friend, seem to have a knowledge of `
` my crimes and his misfortunes. But in the detail which he gave you of `
` them he could not sum up the hours and months of misery which I `
` endured wasting in impotent passions. For while I destroyed his hopes, `
` I did not satisfy my own desires. They were forever ardent and `
` craving; still I desired love and fellowship, and I was still spurned. `
` Was there no injustice in this? Am I to be thought the only criminal, `
` when all humankind sinned against me? Why do you not hate Felix, who `
` drove his friend from his door with contumely? Why do you not execrate `
` the rustic who sought to destroy the saviour of his child? Nay, these `
` are virtuous and immaculate beings! I, the miserable and the `
` abandoned, am an abortion, to be spurned at, and kicked, and trampled `
` on. Even now my blood boils at the recollection of this injustice. `
` `
` "But it is true that I am a wretch. I have murdered the lovely and the `
` helpless; I have strangled the innocent as they slept and grasped to `
` death his throat who never injured me or any other living thing. I `
` have devoted my creator, the select specimen of all that is worthy of `
` love and admiration among men, to misery; I have pursued him even to `
` that irremediable ruin. `
` `
` "There he lies, white and cold in death. You hate me, but your `
` abhorrence cannot equal that with which I regard myself. I look on the `
` hands which executed the deed; I think on the heart in which the `
` imagination of it was conceived and long for the moment when these `
` hands will meet my eyes, when that imagination will haunt my thoughts `
` no more. `
` `
` "Fear not that I shall be the instrument of future mischief. My work `
` is nearly complete. Neither yours nor any man's death is needed to `
` consummate the series of my being and accomplish that which must be `
` done, but it requires my own. Do not think that I shall be slow to `
` perform this sacrifice. I shall quit your vessel on the ice raft which `
` brought me thither and shall seek the most northern extremity of the `
` globe; I shall collect my funeral pile and consume to ashes this `
` miserable frame, that its remains may afford no light to any curious `
` and unhallowed wretch who would create such another as I have been. I `
` shall die. I shall no longer feel the agonies which now consume me or `
` be the prey of feelings unsatisfied, yet unquenched. He is dead who `
`