Frankenstein's Bride (38 page)

In the mean time I worked on, and my labor was already considerably advanced. I looked towards its completion with a tremulous
and eager hope, which I dared not trust myself to question but which was intermixed with obscure forebodings of evil that
made my heart sicken in my bosom.

C H A PT E R 2 0

I SAT ONE EVENING in my laboratory; the sun had set, and the moon was just rising from the sea; I had not sufficient light
for my employment, and I remained idle, in a pause of consideration of whether I should leave my labor for the night or hasten
its conclusion by an unremitting attention to it. As I sat, a train of reflection occurred to me which led me to consider
the effects of what I was now doing. Three years before, I was engaged in the same manner and had created a fiend whose unparalleled
barbarity had desolated my heart and filled it forever with the bitterest remorse. I was now about to form another being of
whose dispositions I was alike ignorant; she might become ten thousand times more malignant than her mate and delight, for
its own sake, in murder and wretchedness. He had sworn to quit the neighborhood of man and hide himself in deserts, but she
had not; and she, who in all probability was to become a thinking and reasoning animal, might refuse to comply with a compact
made before her creation. They might even hate each other; the creature who already lived loathed his own deformity, and might
he not conceive a greater abhorrence for it when it came before his eyes in the female form? She also might turn with disgust
from him to the superior beauty of man; she might quit him, and he be again alone, exasperated by the fresh provocation of
being deserted by one of his own species.

Even if they were to leave Europe and inhabit the deserts of the new world, yet one of the first results of those sympathies
for which the daemon thirsted would be children, and a race of devils would be propagated upon the earth who might make the
very existence of the species of man a condition precarious and full of terror. Had I right, for my own benefit, to inflict
this curse upon everlasting generations? I had before been moved by the sophisms of the being I had created; I had been struck
senseless by his fiendish threats; but now, for the first time, the wickedness of my promise burst upon me; I shuddered to
think that future ages might curse me as their pest, whose selfishness had not hesitated to buy its own peace at the price,
perhaps, of the existence of the whole human race.

I trembled and my heart failed within me, when, on looking up, I saw by the light of the moon the daemon at the casement.
A ghastly grin wrinkled his lips as he gazed on me, where I sat fulfilling the task which he had allotted to me. Yes, he had
followed me in my travels; he had loitered in forests, hid himself in caves, or taken refuge in wide and desert heaths; and
he now came to mark my progress and claim the fulfillment of my promise.

As I looked on him, his countenance expressed the utmost extent of malice and treachery. I thought with a sensation of madness
on my promise of creating another like to him, and trembling with passion, tore to pieces the thing on which I was engaged.
The wretch saw me destroy the creature on whose future existence he depended for happiness, and with a howl of devilish despair
and revenge, withdrew.

I left the room, and locking the door, made a solemn vow in my own heart never to resume my labors; and then, with trembling
steps, I sought my own apartment. I was alone; none were near me to dissipate the gloom and relieve me from the sickening
oppression of the most terrible reveries.

Several hours passed, and I remained near my window gazing on the sea; it was almost motionless, for the winds were hushed,
and all nature reposed under the eye of the quiet moon. A few fishing vessels alone specked the water, and now and then the
gentle breeze wafted the sound of voices as the fishermen called to one another. I felt the silence, although I was hardly
conscious of its extreme profundity, until my ear was suddenly arrested by the paddling of oars near the shore, and a person
landed close to my house.

In a few minutes after, I heard the creaking of my door, as if some one endeavored to open it softly. I trembled from head
to foot; I felt a presentiment of who it was and wished to rouse one of the peasants who dwelt in a cottage not far from mine;
but I was overcome by the sensation of helplessness, so often felt in frightful dreams, when you in vain endeavor to fly from
an impending danger, and was rooted to the spot.

Presently I heard the sound of footsteps along the passage; the door opened, and the wretch whom I dreaded appeared. Shutting
the door, he approached me and said in a smothered voice, “You have destroyed the work which you began; what is it that you
intend? Do you dare to break your promise? I have endured toil and misery; I left Switzerland with you; I crept along the
shores of the Rhine, among its willow islands and over the summits of its hills. I have dwelt many months in the heaths of
England and among the deserts of Scotland. I have endured incalculable fatigue, and cold, and hunger; do you dare destroy
my hopes?”

“Begone! I do break my promise; never will I create another like yourself, equal in deformity and wickedness.”

“Slave, I before reasoned with you, but you have proved yourself unworthy of my condescension. Remember that I have power;
you believe yourself miserable, but I can make you so wretched that the light of day will be hateful to you. You are my creator,
but I am your master; obey!”

“The hour of my irresolution is past, and the period of your power is arrived. Your threats cannot move me to do an act of
wickedness; but they confirm me in a determination of not creating you a companion in vice. Shall I, in cool blood, set loose
upon the earth a daemon whose delight is in death and wretchedness? Begone! I am firm, and your words will only exasperate
my rage.”

The monster saw my determination in my face and gnashed his teeth in the impotence of anger. “Shall each man,” cried he, “find
a wife for his bosom, and each beast have his mate, and I be alone? I had feelings of affection, and they were requited by
detestation and scorn. Man! You may hate, but beware! Your hours will pass in dread and misery, and soon the bolt will fall
which must ravish from you your happiness forever. Are you to be happy while I grovel in the intensity of my wretchedness?
You can blast my other passions, but revenge remains—revenge, henceforth dearer than light or food! I may die, but first you,
my tyrant and tormentor, shall curse the sun that gazes on your misery. Beware, for I am fearless and therefore powerful.
I will watch with the wiliness of a snake, that I may sting with its venom. Man, you shall repent of the injuries you inflict.”

“Devil, cease; and do not poison the air with these sounds of malice. I have declared my resolution to you, and I am no coward
to bend beneath words. Leave me; I am inexorable.”

“It is well. I go; but remember, I shall be with you on your wedding-night.”

I started forward and exclaimed, “Villain! Before you sign my death-warrant, be sure that you are yourself safe.”

I would have seized him, but he eluded me and quitted the house with precipitation. In a few moments I saw him in his boat,
which shot across the waters with an arrowy swiftness and was soon lost amidst the waves.

All was again silent, but his words rang in my ears. I burned with rage to pursue the murderer of my peace and precipitate
him into the ocean. I walked up and down my room hastily and perturbed, while my imagination conjured up a thousand images
to torment and sting me. Why had I not followed him and closed with him in mortal strife? But I had suffered him to depart,
and he had directed his course towards the mainland. I shuddered to think who might be the next victim sacrificed to his insatiate
revenge. And then I thought again of his words—“
I will be with you
on your wedding-night.
” That, then, was the period fixed for the fulfillment of my destiny. In that hour I should die and at once satisfy and extinguish
his malice. The prospect did not move me to fear; yet when I thought of my beloved Elizabeth, of her tears and endless sorrow,
when she should find her lover so barbarously snatched from her, tears, the first I had shed for many months, streamed from
my eyes, and I resolved not to fall before my enemy without a bitter struggle.

The night passed away, and the sun rose from the ocean; my feelings became calmer, if it may be called calmness when the violence
of rage sinks into the depths of despair. I left the house, the horrid scene of the last night's contention, and walked on
the beach of the sea, which I almost regarded as an insuperable barrier between me and my fellow creatures; nay, a wish that
such should prove the fact stole across me. I desired that I might pass my life on that barren rock, wearily, it is true,
but uninterrupted by any sudden shock of misery. If I returned, it was to be sacrificed or to see those whom I most loved
die under the grasp of a daemon whom I had myself created.

I walked about the isle like a restless specter, separated from all it loved and miserable in the separation. When it became
noon, and the sun rose higher, I lay down on the grass and was overpowered by a deep sleep. I had been awake the whole of
the preceding night, my nerves were agitated, and my eyes inflamed by watching and misery. The sleep into which I now sank
refreshed me; and when I awoke, I again felt as if I belonged to a race of human beings like myself, and I began to reflect
upon what had passed with greater composure; yet still the words of the fiend rang in my ears like a death-knell; they appeared
like a dream, yet distinct and oppressive as a reality.

The sun had far descended, and I still sat on the shore, satisfying my appetite, which had become ravenous, with an oaten
cake, when I saw a fishing-boat land close to me, and one of the men brought me a packet; it contained letters from Geneva,
and one from Clerval entreating me to join him. He said that he was wearing away his time fruitlessly where he was, that letters
from the friends he had formed in London desired his return to complete the negotiation they had entered into for his Indian
enterprise. He could not any longer delay his departure; but as his journey to London might be followed, even sooner than
he now conjectured, by his longer voyage, he entreated me to bestow as much of my society on him as I could spare. He besought
me, therefore, to leave my solitary isle and to meet him at Perth, that we might proceed south wards together. This letter
in a degree recalled me to life, and I determined to quit my island at the expiration of two days.

Yet, before I departed, there was a task to perform, on which I shuddered to reflect; I must pack up my chemical instruments,
and for that purpose I must enter the room which had been the scene of my odious work, and I must handle those utensils the
sight of which was sickening to me. The next morning, at daybreak, I summoned sufficient courage and unlocked the door of
my laboratory. The remains of the half-finished creature, whom I had destroyed, lay scattered on the floor, and I almost felt
as if I had mangled the living flesh of a human being. I paused to collect myself and then entered the chamber. With trembling
hand I conveyed the instruments out of the room, but I reflected that I ought not to leave the relics of my work to excite
the horror and suspicion of the peasants; and I accordingly put them into a basket, with a great quantity of stones, and laying
them up, determined to throw them into the sea that very night; and in the meantime I sat upon the beach, employed in cleaning
and arranging my chemical apparatus.

Nothing could be more complete than the alteration that had taken place in my feelings since the night of the appearance of
the daemon. I had before regarded my promise with a gloomy despair as a thing that, with whatever consequences, must be fulfilled;
but I now felt as if a film had been taken from before my eyes and that I for the first time saw clearly. The idea of renewing
my labors did not for one instant occur to me; the threat I had heard weighed on my thoughts, but I did not reflect that a
voluntary act of mine could avert it. I had resolved in my own mind that to create another like the fiend I had first made
would be an act of the basest and most atrocious selfishness, and I banished from my mind every thought that could lead to
a different conclusion.

Between two and three in the morning the moon rose; and I then, putting my basket aboard a little skiff, sailed out about
four miles from the shore. The scene was perfectly solitary; a few boats were returning towards land, but I sailed away from
them. I felt as if I was about the commission of a dreadful crime and avoided with shuddering anxiety any encounter with my
fellow creatures. At one time the moon, which had before been clear, was suddenly overspread by a thick cloud, and I took
advantage of the moment of darkness and cast my basket into the sea; I listened to the gurgling sound as it sank and then
sailed away from the spot. The sky became clouded, but the air was pure, although chilled by the northeast breeze that was
then rising. But it refreshed me and filled me with such agreeable sensations that I resolved to prolong my stay on the water,
and fixing the rudder in a direct position, stretched myself at the bottom of the boat. Clouds hid the moon, everything was
obscure, and I heard only the sound of the boat as its keel cut through the waves; the murmur lulled me, and in a short time
I slept soundly.

I do not know how long I remained in this situation, but when I awoke I found that the sun had already mounted considerably.
The wind was high, and the waves continually threatened the safety of my little skiff. I found that the wind was northeast
and must have driven me far from the coast from which I had embarked. I endeavored to change my course but quickly found that
if I again made the attempt the boat would be instantly filled with water. Thus situated, my only resource was to drive before
the wind. I confess that I felt a few sensations of terror. I had no compass with me and was so slenderly acquainted with
the geography of this part of the world that the sun was of little benefit to me. I might be driven into the wide Atlantic
and feel all the tortures of starvation or be swallowed up in the immeasurable waters that roared and buffeted around me.
I had already been out many hours and felt the torment of a burning thirst, a prelude to my other sufferings. I looked on
the heavens, which were covered by clouds that flew before the wind, only to be replaced by others; I looked upon the sea;
it was to be my grave. “Fiend,” I exclaimed, “your task is already fulfilled!” I thought of Elizabeth, of my father, and of
Clerval—all left behind, on whom the monster might satisfy his sanguinary and merciless passions. This idea plunged me into
a reverie so despairing and frightful that even now, when the scene is on the point of closing before me forever, I shudder
to reflect on it.