Frankenstein's Bride (32 page)

C H A PT E R 1 0

I SPENT THE FOLLOWING DAY roaming through the valley. I stood beside the sources of the Arveiron, which take their rise in
a glacier, that with slow pace is advancing down from the summit of the hills to barricade the valley. The abrupt sides of
vast mountains were before me; the icy wall of the glacier overhung me; a few shattered pines were scattered around; and the
solemn silence of this glorious presence-chamber of imperial nature was broken only by the brawling waves or the fall of some
vast fragment, the thunder sound of the avalanche or the cracking, reverberated along the mountains, of the accumulated ice,
which, through the silent working of immutable laws, was ever and anon rent and torn, as if it had been but a plaything in
their hands. These sublime and magnificent scenes afforded me the greatest consolation that I was capable of receiving. They
elevated me from all littleness of feeling, and although they did not remove my grief, they subdued and tranquillized it.
In some degree, also, they diverted my mind from the thoughts over which it had brooded for the last month. I retired to rest
at night; my slumbers, as it were, waited on and ministered to by the assemblance of grand shapes which I had contemplated
during the day. They congregated round me; the unstained snowy mountain-top, the glittering pinnacle, the pine woods, and
ragged bare ravine, the eagle, soaring amidst the clouds—they all gathered round me and bade me be at peace.

Where had they fled when the next morning I awoke? All of soul-inspiriting fled with sleep, and dark melancholy clouded every
thought. The rain was pouring in torrents, and thick mists hid the summits of the mountains, so that I even saw not the faces
of those mighty friends. Still I would penetrate their misty veil and seek them in their cloudy retreats. What were rain and
storm to me? My mule was brought to the door, and I resolved to ascend to the summit of Montanvert. I remembered the effect
that the view of the tremendous and ever-moving glacier had produced upon my mind when I first saw it. It had then filled
me with a sublime ecstasy that gave wings to the soul and allowed it to soar from the obscure world to light and joy. The
sight of the awful and majestic in nature had indeed always the effect of solemnizing my mind and causing me to forget the
passing cares of life. I determined to go without a guide, for I was well acquainted with the path, and the presence of another
would destroy the solitary grandeur of the scene.

The ascent is precipitous, but the path is cut into continual and short windings, which enable you to surmount the perpendicularity
of the mountain. It is a scene terrifically desolate. In a thousand spots the traces of the winter avalanche may be perceived,
where trees lie broken and strewed on the ground, some entirely destroyed, others bent, leaning upon the jutting rocks of
the mountain or transversely upon other trees. The path, as you ascend higher, is intersected by ravines of snow, down which
stones continually roll from above; one of them is particularly dangerous, as the slightest sound, such as even speaking in
a loud voice, produces a concussion of air sufficient to draw destruction upon the head of the speaker. The pines are not
tall or luxuriant, but they are som-bre and add an air of severity to the scene. I looked on the valley beneath; vast mists
were rising from the rivers which ran through it and curling in thick wreaths around the opposite mountains, whose summits
were hid in the uniform clouds, while rain poured from the dark sky and added to the melancholy impression I received from
the objects around me. Alas! Why does man boast of sensibilities superior to those apparent in the brute; it only renders
them more necessary beings. If our impulses were confined to hunger, thirst, and desire, we might be nearly free; but now
we are moved by every wind that blows and a chance word or scene that that word may convey to us.

We rest; a dream has power to poison sleep.

We rise; one wand'ring thought pollutes the day.

We feel, conceive, or reason; laugh or weep,
Embrace fond woe, or cast our cares away;
It is the same: for, be it joy or sorrow,
The path of its departure still is free.

Man's yesterday may ne'er be like his morrow;
Nought may endure but mutability!

It was nearly noon when I arrived at the top of the ascent. For some time I sat upon the rock that overlooks the sea of ice.
A mist covered both that and the surrounding mountains. Presently a breeze dissipated the cloud, and I descended upon the
glacier. The surface is very uneven, rising like the waves of a troubled sea, descending low, and interspersed by rifts that
sink deep. The field of ice is almost a league in width, but I spent nearly two hours in crossing it. The opposite mountain
is a bare perpendicular rock. From the side where I now stood Montanvert was exactly opposite, at the distance of a league;
and above it rose Mont Blanc, in awful majesty. I remained in a recess of the rock, gazing on this wonderful and stupendous
scene. The sea, or rather the vast river of ice, wound among its dependent mountains, whose aerial summits hung over its recesses.
Their icy and glittering peaks shone in the sunlight over the clouds. My heart, which was before sorrowful, now swelled with
something like joy; I exclaimed, “Wandering spirits, if indeed ye wander, and do not rest in your narrow beds, allow me this
faint happiness, or take me, as your companion, away from the joys of life.”

As I said this I suddenly beheld the figure of a man, at some distance, advancing towards me with superhuman speed. He bounded
over the crevices in the ice, among which I had walked with caution; his stature, also, as he approached, seemed to exceed
that of man. I was troubled; a mist came over my eyes, and I felt a faintness seize me, but I was quickly restored by the
cold gale of the mountains. I perceived, as the shape came nearer (sight tremendous and abhorred!) that it was the wretch
whom I had created. I trembled with rage and horror, resolving to wait his approach and then close with him in mortal combat.
He approached; his countenance bespoke bitter anguish, combined with disdain and malignity, while its unearthly ugliness rendered
it almost too horrible for human eyes. But I scarcely observed this; rage and hatred had at first deprived me of utterance,
and I recovered only to overwhelm him with words expressive of furious detestation and contempt.

“Devil,” I exclaimed, “do you dare approach me? And do not you fear the fierce vengeance of my arm wreaked on your miserable
head? Begone, vile insect! Or rather, stay, that I may trample you to dust! And, oh! That I could, with the extinction of
your miserable existence, restore those victims whom you have so diabolically murdered!”

“I expected this reception,” said the daemon. “All men hate the wretched; how, then, must I be hated, who am miserable beyond
all living things! Yet you, my creator, detest and spurn me, thy creature, to whom thou art bound by ties only dissoluble
by the annihilation of one of us. You purpose to kill me. How dare you sport thus with life? Do your duty towards me, and
I will do mine towards you and the rest of mankind. If you will comply with my conditions, I will leave them and you at peace;
but if you refuse, I will glut the maw of death, until it be satiated with the blood of your remaining friends.”

“Abhorred monster! Fiend that thou art! The tortures of hell are too mild a vengeance for thy crimes. Wretched devil! You
reproach me with your creation, come on, then, that I may extinguish the spark which I so negligently bestowed.”

My rage was without bounds; I sprang on him, impelled by all the feelings which can arm one being against the existence of
another.

He easily eluded me and said, “Be calm! I entreat you to hear me before you give vent to your hatred on my devoted head. Have
I not suffered enough, that you seek to increase my misery? Life, although it may only be an accumulation of anguish, is dear
to me, and I will defend it. Remember, thou hast made me more powerful than thyself; my height is superior to thine, my joints
more supple. But I will not be tempted to set myself in opposition to thee. I am thy creature, and I will be even mild and
docile to my natural lord and king if thou wilt also perform thy part, the which thou owest me. Oh, Frankenstein, be not equitable
to every other and trample upon me alone, to whom thy justice, and even thy clemency and affection, is most due. Remember
that I am thy creature; I ought to be thy Adam, but I am rather the fallen angel, whom thou drivest from joy for no misdeed.
Everywhere I see bliss, from which I alone am irrevocably excluded. I was benevolent and good; misery made me a fiend. Make
me happy, and I shall again be virtuous.”

“Begone! I will not hear you. There can be no community between you and me; we are enemies. Begone, or let us try our strength
in a fight, in which one must fall.”

“How can I move thee? Will no entreaties cause thee to turn a favorable eye upon thy creature, who implores thy goodness and
compassion? Believe me, Frankenstein, I was benevolent; my soul glowed with love and humanity; but am I not alone, miserably
alone? You, my creator, abhor me; what hope can I gather from your fellow creatures, who owe me nothing? They spurn and hate
me. The desert mountains and dreary glaciers are my refuge. I have wandered here many days; the caves of ice, which I only
do not fear, are a dwelling to me, and the only one which man does not grudge. These bleak skies I hail, for they are kinder
to me than your fellow beings. If the multitude of mankind knew of my existence, they would do as you do, and arm themselves
for my destruction. Shall I not then hate them who abhor me? I will keep no terms with my enemies. I am miserable, and they
shall share my wretchedness. Yet it is in your power to recompense me, and deliver them from an evil which it only remains
for you to make so great, that not only you and your family, but thousands of others, shall be swallowed up in the whirlwinds
of its rage. Let your compassion be moved, and do not disdain me. Listen to my tale; when you have heard that, abandon or
commiserate me, as you shall judge that I deserve. But hear me. The guilty are allowed, by human laws, bloody as they are,
to speak in their own defense before they are condemned. Listen to me, Frankenstein. You accuse me of murder, and yet you
would, with a satisfied conscience, destroy your own creature. Oh, praise the eternal justice of man! Yet I ask you not to
spare me; listen to me, and then, if you can, and if you will, destroy the work of your hands.”

“Why do you call to my remembrance,” I rejoined, “circumstances of which I shudder to reflect, that I have been the miserable
origin and author? Cursed be the day, abhorred devil, in which you first saw light! Cursed (although I curse myself) be the
hands that formed you! You have made me wretched beyond expression. You have left me no power to consider whether I am just
to you or not. Begone! Relieve me from the sight of your detested form.”

“Thus I relieve thee, my creator,” he said, and placed his hated hands before my eyes, which I flung from me with violence;
“thus I take from thee a sight which you abhor. Still thou canst listen to me and grant me thy compassion. By the virtues
that I once possessed, I demand this from you. Hear my tale; it is long and strange, and the temperature of this place is
not fitting to your fine sensations; come to the hut upon the mountain. The sun is yet high in the heavens; before it descends
to hide itself behind your snowy precipices and illuminate another world, you will have heard my story and can decide. On
you it rests, whether I quit forever the neighborhood of man and lead a harmless life, or become the scourge of your fellow
creatures and the author of your own speedy ruin.”

As he said this he led the way across the ice; I followed. My heart was full, and I did not answer him, but as I proceeded,
I weighed the various arguments that he had used and determined at least to listen to his tale. I was partly urged by curiosity,
and compassion confirmed my resolution. I had hitherto supposed him to be the murderer of my brother, and I eagerly sought
a confirmation or denial of this opinion. For the first time, also, I felt what the duties of a creator towards his creature
were, and that I ought to render him happy before I complained of his wickedness. These motives urged me to comply with his
demand. We crossed the ice, therefore, and ascended the opposite rock. The air was cold, and the rain again began to descend;
we entered the hut, the fiend with an air of exultation, I with a heavy heart and depressed spirits. But I consented to listen,
and seating myself by the fire which my odious companion had lighted, he thus began his tale.

C H A PT E R 1 1

IT IS WITH CONSIDERABLE DIFFICULTY that I remember the original era of my being; all the events of that period appear confused
and indistinct. A strange multiplicity of sensations “ seized me, and I saw, felt, heard, and smelt at the same time; and
it was, indeed, a long time before I learned to distinguish between the operations of my various senses. By degrees, I remember,
a stronger light pressed upon my nerves, so that I was obliged to shut my eyes. Darkness then came over me and troubled me,
but hardly had I felt this when, by opening my eyes, as I now suppose, the light poured in upon me again. I walked and, I
believe, descended, but I presently found a great alteration in my sensations. Before, dark and opaque bodies had surrounded
me, impervious to my touch or sight; but I now found that I could wander on at liberty, with no obstacles which I could not
either surmount or avoid. The light became more and more oppressive to me, and the heat wearying me as I walked, I sought
a place where I could receive shade. This was the forest near Ingolstadt; and here I lay by the side of a brook resting from
my fatigue, until I felt tormented by hunger and thirst. This roused me from my nearly dormant state, and I ate some berries
which I found hanging on the trees or lying on the ground. I slaked my thirst at the brook, and then lying down, was overcome
by sleep.

“It was dark when I awoke; I felt cold also, and half frightened, as it were, instinctively, finding myself so desolate. Before
I had quitted your apartment, on a sensation of cold, I had covered myself with some clothes, but these were insufficient
to secure me from the dews of night. I was a poor, helpless, miserable wretch; I knew, and could distinguish, nothing; but
feeling pain invade me on all sides, I sat down and wept.

“Soon a gentle light stole over the heavens and gave me a sensation of pleasure. I started up and beheld a radiant form rise
from among the trees. I gazed with a kind of wonder. It moved slowly, but it enlightened my path, and I again went out in
search of berries. I was still cold when under one of the trees I found a huge cloak, with which I covered myself, and sat
down upon the ground. No distinct ideas occupied my mind; all was confused. I felt light, and hunger, and thirst, and darkness;
innumerable sounds rang in my ears, and on all sides various scents saluted me; the only object that I could distinguish was
the bright moon, and I fixed my eyes on that with pleasure.

“Several changes of day and night passed, and the orb of night had greatly lessened, when I began to distinguish my sensations
from each other. I gradually saw plainly the clear stream that supplied me with drink and the trees that shaded me with their
foliage. I was delighted when I first discovered that a pleasant sound, which often saluted my ears, proceeded from the throats
of the little winged animals who had often intercepted the light from my eyes. I began also to observe, with greater accuracy,
the forms that surrounded me and to perceive the boundaries of the radiant roof of light which canopied me. Sometimes I tried
to imitate the pleasant songs of the birds but was unable. Sometimes I wished to express my sensations in my own mode, but
the uncouth and inarticulate sounds which broke from me frightened me into silence again.

“The moon had disappeared from the night, and again, with a lessened form, showed itself, while I still remained in the forest.
My sensations had by this time become distinct, and my mind received every day additional ideas. My eyes became accustomed
to the light and to perceive objects in their right forms; I distinguished the insect from the herb, and by degrees, one herb
from another. I found that the sparrow uttered none but harsh notes, whilst those of the blackbird and thrush were sweet and
enticing.

“One day, when I was oppressed by cold, I found a fire which had been left by some wandering beggars, and was overcome with
delight at the warmth I experienced from it. In my joy I thrust my hand into the live embers, but quickly drew it out again
with a cry of pain. How strange, I thought, that the same cause should produce such opposite effects! I examined the materials
of the fire, and to my joy found it to be composed of wood. I quickly collected some branches, but they were wet and would
not burn. I was pained at this and sat still watching the operation of the fire. The wet wood which I had placed near the
heat dried and itself became inflamed. I reflected on this, and by touching the various branches, I discovered the cause and
busied myself in collecting a great quantity of wood, that I might dry it and have a plentiful supply of fire. When night
came on and brought sleep with it, I was in the greatest fear lest my fire should be extinguished. I covered it carefully
with dry wood and leaves and placed wet branches upon it; and then, spreading my cloak, I lay on the ground and sank into
sleep.

“It was morning when I awoke, and my first care was to visit the fire. I uncovered it, and a gentle breeze quickly fanned
it into a flame. I observed this also and contrived a fan of branches, which roused the embers when they were nearly extinguished.
When night came again I found, with pleasure, that the fire gave light as well as heat and that the discovery of this element
was useful to me in my food, for I found some of the offals that the travelers had left had been roasted, and tasted much
more savory than the berries I gathered from the trees. I tried, therefore, to dress my food in the same manner, placing it
on the live embers. I found that the berries were spoiled by this operation, and the nuts and roots much improved.

“Food, however, became scarce, and I often spent the whole day searching in vain for a few acorns to assuage the pangs of
hunger. When I found this, I resolved to quit the place that I had hitherto inhabited, to seek for one where the few wants
I experienced would be more easily satisfied. In this emigration I exceedingly lamented the loss of the fire which I had obtained
through accident and knew not how to reproduce it. I gave several hours to the serious consideration of this difficulty, but
I was obliged to relinquish all attempt to supply it, and wrapping myself up in my cloak, I struck across the wood towards
the setting sun. I passed three days in these rambles and at length discovered the open country. A great fall of snow had
taken place the night before, and the fields were of one uniform white; the appearance was disconsolate, and I found my feet
chilled by the cold damp substance that covered the ground.

“It was about seven in the morning, and I longed to obtain food and shelter; at length I perceived a small hut, on a rising
ground, which had doubtless been built for the convenience of some shepherd. This was a new sight to me, and I examined the
structure with great curiosity. Finding the door open, I entered. An old man sat in it, near a fire, over which he was preparing
his breakfast. He turned on hearing a noise, and perceiving me, shrieked loudly, and quitting the hut, ran across the fields
with a speed of which his debilitated form hardly appeared capable. His appearance, different from any I had ever before seen,
and his flight somewhat surprised me. But I was enchanted by the appearance of the hut; here the snow and rain could not penetrate;
the ground was dry; and it presented to me then as exquisite and divine a retreat as Pandemonium appeared to the demons of
hell after their sufferings in the lake of fire. I greedily devoured the remnants of the shepherd's breakfast, which consisted
of bread, cheese, milk, and wine; the latter, however, I did not like. Then, overcome by fatigue, I lay down among some straw
and fell asleep.

“It was noon when I awoke, and allured by the warmth of the sun, which shone brightly on the white ground, I determined to
recommence my travels; and, depositing the remains of the peasant's breakfast in a wallet I found, I proceeded across the
fields for several hours, until at sunset I arrived at a village. How miraculous did this appear! The huts, the neater cottages,
and stately houses engaged my admiration by turns. The vegetables in the gardens, the milk and cheese that I saw placed at
the windows of some of the cottages, allured my appetite. One of the best of these I entered, but I had hardly placed my foot
within the door before the children shrieked, and one of the women fainted. The whole village was roused; some fled, some
attacked me, until, grievously bruised by stones and many other kinds of missile weapons, I escaped to the open country and
fearfully took refuge in a low hovel, quite bare, and making a wretched appearance after the palaces I had beheld in the village.
This hovel however, joined a cottage of a neat and pleasant appearance, but after my late dearly bought experience, I dared
not enter it. My place of refuge was constructed of wood, but so low that I could with difficulty sit upright in it. No wood,
however, was placed on the earth, which formed the floor, but it was dry; and although the wind entered it by innumerable
chinks, I found it an agreeable asylum from the snow and rain.

“Here, then, I retreated and lay down happy to have found a shelter, however miserable, from the inclemency of the season,
and still more from the barbarity of man.

“As soon as morning dawned I crept from my kennel, that I might view the adjacent cottage and discover if I could remain in
the habitation I had found. It was situated against the back of the cottage and surrounded on the sides which were exposed
by a pig sty and a clear pool of water. One part was open, and by that I had crept in; but now I covered every crevice by
which I might be perceived with stones and wood, yet in such a manner that I might move them on occasion to pass out; all
the light I enjoyed came through the sty, and that was sufficient for me.

“Having thus arranged my dwelling and carpeted it with clean straw, I retired, for I saw the figure of a man at a distance,
and I remembered too well my treatment the night before to trust myself in his power. I had first, however, provided for my
sustenance for that day by a loaf of coarse bread, which I purloined, and a cup with which I could drink more conveniently
than from my hand of the pure water which flowed by my retreat. The floor was a little raised, so that it was kept perfectly
dry, and by its vicinity to the chimney of the cottage it was tolerably warm.

“Being thus provided, I resolved to reside in this hovel until something should occur which might alter my determination.
It was indeed a paradise compared to the bleak forest, my former residence, the rain-dropping branches, and dank earth. I
ate my breakfast with pleasure and was about to remove a plank to procure myself a little water when I heard a step, and looking
through a small chink, I beheld a young creature, with a pail on her head, passing before my hovel. The girl was young and
of gentle demeanor, unlike what I have since found cottagers and farmhouse servants to be. Yet she was meanly dressed, a coarse
blue petticoat and a linen jacket being her only garb; her fair hair was plaited but not adorned: she looked patient yet sad.
I lost sight of her, and in about a quarter of an hour she returned bearing the pail, which was now partly filled with milk.
As she walked along, seemingly incommoded by the burden, a young man met her, whose countenance expressed a deeper despondence.
Uttering a few sounds with an air of melancholy, he took the pail from her head and bore it to the cottage himself. She followed,
and they disappeared. Presently I saw the young man again, with some tools in his hand, cross the field behind the cottage;
and the girl was also busied, sometimes in the house and sometimes in the yard.

“On examining my dwelling, I found that one of the windows of the cottage had formerly occupied a part of it, but the panes
had been filled up with wood. In one of these was a small and almost imperceptible chink through which the eye could just
penetrate. Through this crevice a small room was visible, whitewashed and clean but very bare of furniture. In one corner,
near a small fire, sat an old man, leaning his head on his hands in a disconsolate attitude. The young girl was occupied in
arranging the cottage; but presently she took something out of a drawer, which employed her hands, and she sat down beside
the old man, who, taking up an instrument, began to play and to produce sounds sweeter than the voice of the thrush or the
nightingale. It was a lovely sight, even to me, poor wretch who had never beheld aught beautiful before. The silver hair and
benevolent countenance of the aged cottager won my reverence, while the gentle manners of the girl enticed my love. He played
a sweet mournful air which I perceived drew tears from the eyes of his amiable companion, of which the old man took no notice,
until she sobbed audibly; he then pronounced a few sounds, and the fair creature, leaving her work, knelt at his feet. He
raised her and smiled with such kindness and affection that I felt sensations of a peculiar and overpowering nature; they
were a mixture of pain and pleasure, such as I had never before experienced, either from hunger or cold, warmth or food; and
I withdrew from the window, unable to bear these emotions.

“Soon after this the young man returned, bearing on his shoulders a load of wood. The girl met him at the door, helped to
relieve him of his burden, and taking some of the fuel into the cottage, placed it on the fire; then she and the youth went
apart into a nook of the cottage, and he showed her a large loaf and a piece of cheese. She seemed pleased and went into the
garden for some roots and plants, which she placed in water, and then upon the fire. She afterwards continued her work, whilst
the young man went into the garden and appeared busily employed in digging and pulling up roots. After he had been employed
thus about an hour, the young woman joined him and they entered the cottage together.

“The old man had, in the meantime, been pensive, but on the appearance of his companions he assumed a more cheerful air, and
they sat down to eat. The meal was quickly dispatched. The young woman was again occupied in arranging the cottage, the old
man walked before the cottage in the sun for a few minutes, leaning on the arm of the youth. Nothing could exceed in beauty
the contrast between these two excellent creatures. One was old, with silver hairs and a countenance beaming with benevolence
and love; the younger was slight and graceful in his figure, and his features were molded with the finest symmetry, yet his
eyes and attitude expressed the utmost sadness and despondency. The old man returned to the cottage, and the youth, with tools
different from those he had used in the morning, directed his steps across the fields.