10. [Speaker: Frankenstein]
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 mountaintop, 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 sombre
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 demon.
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 favourable 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 defence 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
neighbourhood 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.