CHAPTER V
It was on a dreary night of November that I beheld the
accomplishment of my toils. With an anxiety that almost
amounted to agony, I collected the instruments of life around
me, that I might infuse a spark of being into the lifeless
thing that lay at my feet. It was already one in the morning;
the rain pattered dismally against the panes, and my candle was
nearly burnt out, when, by the glimmer of the half-extinguished
light, I saw the dull yellow eye of the creature open; it
breathed hard, and a convulsive motion agitated its limbs.
How can I describe my emotions at this catastrophe, or how
delineate the wretch whom with such infinite pains and care I
had endeavoured to form? His limbs were in proportion, and I
had selected his features as beautiful. Beautiful! - Great God!
His yellow skin scarcely covered the work of muscles and
arteries beneath; his hair was of a lustrous black, and
flowing; his teeth of a pearly whiteness; but these luxuriances
only formed a more horrid contrast with his watery eyes, that
seemed almost of the same colour as the dun white sockets in
which they were set, his shrivelled complexion and straight
black lips.
The different accidents of life are not so changeable as the
feelings of human nature. I had worked hard for nearly two
years, for the sole purpose of infusing life into an inanimate
body. For this I had deprived myself of rest and health. I
had desired it with an ardour that far exceeded moderation; but
now that I had finished, the beauty of the dream vanished, and
breathless horror and disgust filled my heart. Unable to
endure the aspect of the being I had created, I rushed out of
the room, and continued a long time traversing my bedchamber,
unable to compose my mind to sleep. At length lassitude
succeeded to the tumult I had before endured; and I threw
myself on the bed in my clothes, endeavouring to seek a few
moments of forgetfulness. But it was in vain: I slept,
indeed, but I was disturbed by the wildest dreams. I thought
I saw Elizabeth, in the bloom of health, walking in the streets
of Ingolstadt. Delighted and surprised, I embraced her; but as
I imprinted the first kiss on her lips, they became livid with
the hue of death; her features appeared to change, and I
thought that I held the corpse of my dead mother in my arms; a
shroud enveloped her form, and I saw the grave-worms crawling
in the folds of the flannel. I started from my sleep with
horror; a cold dew covered my forehead, my teeth chattered,
and every limb became convulsed: when, by the dim and yellow
light of the moon, as it forced its way through the window
shutters, I beheld the wretch - the miserable monster whom I
had created. He held up the curtain of the bed; and his eyes,
if eyes they may be called, were fixed on me. His jaws opened,
and he muttered some inarticulate sounds, while a grin wrinkled
his cheeks. He might have spoken, but I did not hear; one hand
was stretched out, seemingly to detain me, but I escaped, and
rushed down stairs. I took refuge in the courtyard belonging
to the house which I inhabited; where I remained during the
rest of the night, walking up and down in the greatest
agitation, listening attentively, catching and fearing each
sound as if it were to announce the approach of the demoniacal
corpse to which I had so miserably given life.
Oh! no mortal could support the horror of that countenance.
A mummy again endued with animation could not be so hideous as
that wretch. I had gazed on him while unfinished; he was ugly
then; but when those muscles and joints were rendered capable
of motion, it became a thing such as even Dante could not have
conceived.
I passed the night wretchedly. Sometimes my pulse beat so
quickly and hardly that I felt the palpitation of every artery;
at others, I nearly sank to the ground through languor and
extreme weakness. Mingled with this horror, I felt the
bitterness of disappointment; dreams that had been my food and
pleasant rest for so long a space were now become a hell to me;
and the change was so rapid, the overthrow so complete!
Morning, dismal and wet, at length dawned, and discovered to my
sleepless and aching eyes the church of Ingolstadt, its white
steeple and clock, which indicated the sixth hour. The porter
opened the gates of the court, which had that night been my
asylum, and I issued into the streets, pacing them with quick
steps, as if I sought to avoid the wretch whom I feared every
turning of the street would present to my view. I did not dare
return to the apartment which I inhabited, but felt impelled to
hurry on, although drenched by the rain which poured from a
black and comfortless sky.
I continued walking in this manner for some time, endeavouring,
by bodily exercise, to ease the load that weighed upon my mind.
I traversed the streets, without any clear conception of where
I was, or what I was doing. My heart palpitated in the
sickness of fear; and I hurried on with irregular steps, not
daring to look about me: -
"Like one who, on a lonely road,
Doth walk in fear and dread,
And, having once turned round, walks on,
And turns no more his head;
Because he knows a frightful fiend
Doth close behind him tread."
Coleridge's Ancient Mariner.
Continuing thus, I came at length opposite to the inn at which
the various diligences and carriages usually stopped. Here I
paused, I knew not why; but I remained some minutes with my
eyes fixed on a coach that was coming towards me from the other
end of the street. As it drew nearer, I observed that it was
the Swiss diligence: it stopped just where I was standing, and,
on the door being opened, I perceived Henry Clerval, who, on
seeing me, instantly sprung out. "My dear Frankenstein,"
exclaimed he, "how glad I am to see you! how fortunate that you
should be here at the very moment of my alighting!"
Nothing could equal my delight on seeing Clerval; his presence
brought back to my thoughts my father, Elizabeth, and all those
scenes of home so dear to my recollection. I grasped his hand,
and in a moment forgot my horror and misfortune; I felt
suddenly, and for the first time during many months, calm and
serene joy. I welcomed my friend, therefore, in the most
cordial manner, and we walked towards my college. Clerval
continued talking for some time about our mutual friends, and
his own good fortune in being permitted to come to Ingolstadt.
"You may easily believe," said he, "how great was the
difficulty to persuade my father that all necessary knowledge
was not comprised in the noble art of bookkeeping; and, indeed,
I believe I left him incredulous to the last, for his constant
answer to my unwearied entreaties was the same as that of the
Dutch schoolmaster in the Vicar of Wakefield: - `I have ten
thousand florins a year without Greek, I eat heartily without
Greek.' But his affection for me at length overcame his dislike
of learning, and he has permitted me to undertake a voyage of
discovery to the land of knowledge."
"It gives me the greatest delight to see you; but tell me how
you left my father, brothers, and Elizabeth."
"Very well, and very happy, only a little uneasy that they hear
from you so seldom. By the by, I mean to lecture you a little
upon their account myself. - But, my dear Frankenstein,"
continued he, stopping short, and gazing full in my face, "I
did not before remark how very ill you appear; so thin and
pale; you look as if you had been watching for several nights."
"You have guessed right; I have lately been so deeply engaged
in one occupation that I have not allowed myself sufficient
rest, as you see: but I hope, I sincerely hope, that all these
employments are now at an end, and that I am at length free."
I trembled excessively; I could not endure to think of, and far
less to allude to, the occurrences of the preceding night. I
walked with a quick pace, and we soon arrived at my college.
I then reflected, and the thought made me shiver, that the
creature whom I had left in my apartment might still be there,
alive, and walking about. I dreaded to bchold this monster;
but I feared still more that Henry should see him. Entreating
him, therefore, to remain a few minutes at the bottom of the
stairs, I darted up towards my own room. My hand was already
on the lock of the door before I recollected myself. I then
paused; and a cold shivering came over me. I threw the door
forcibly open, as children are accustomed to do when they
expect a spectre to stand in waiting for them on the other
side; but nothing appeared. I stepped fearfully in: the
apartment was empty; and my bedroom was also freed from its
hideous guest. I could hardly believe that so great a good
fortune could have befallen me; but when I became assured that
my enemy had indeed fled, I clapped my hands for joy, and ran
down to Clerval.
We ascended into my room, and the servant presently brought
breakfast; but I was unable to contain myself. It was not joy
only that possessed me; I felt my flesh tingle with excess of
sensitiveness, and my pulse beat rapidly. I was unable to
remain for a single instant in the same place; I jumped over
the chairs, clapped my hands, and laughed aloud. Clerval at
first attributed my unusual spirits to joy on his arrival; but
when he observed me more attentively he saw a wildness in my
eyes for which he could not account; and my loud, unrestrained,
heartless laughter, frightened and astonished him.
"My dear Victor," cried he, "what, for God's sake, is the
matter? Do not laugh in that manner. How ill you are!
What is the cause of all this?"
"Do not ask me," cried I, putting my hands before my eyes, for
I thought I saw the dreaded spectre glide into the room; "he
can tell. - Oh, save me! save me!" I imagined that the monster
seized me; I struggled furiously, and fell down in a fit.
Poor Clerval! what must have been his feelings? A meeting,
which he anticipated with such joy, so strangely turned to
bitterness. But I was not the witness of his grief; for I was
lifeless, and did not recover my senses for a long, long time.
This was the commencement of a nervous fever, which confined me
for several months. During all that time Henry was my only
nurse. I afterwards learned that, knowing my father's advanced
age, and unfitness for so long a journey, and how wretched my
sickness would make Elizabeth, he spared them this grief by
concealing the extent of my disorder. He knew that I could not
have a more kind and attentive nurse than himself; and, firm in
the hope he felt of my recovery, he did not doubt that, instead
of doing harm, he performed the kindest action that he could
towards them.
But I was in reality very ill; and surely nothing but the
unbounded and unremitting attentions of my friend could have
restored me to life. The form of the monster on whom I had
bestowed existence was for ever before my eyes, and I raved
incessantly concerning him. Doubtless my words surprised
Henry: he at first believed them to be the wanderings of my
disturbed imagination; but the pertinacity with which I
continually recurred to the same subject, persuaded him that my
disorder indeed owed its origin to some uncommon and terrible event.
By very slow degrees, and with frequent relapses that alarmed
and grieved my friend, I recovered. I remember the first time
I became capable of observing outward objects with any kind of
pleasure, I perceived that the fallen leaves had disappeared,
and that the young buds were shooting forth from the trees that
shaded my window. It was a divine spring; and the season
contributed greatly to my convalescence. I felt also
sentiments of joy and affection revive in my bosom; my gloom
disappeared, and in a short time I became as cheerful as before
I was attacked by the fatal passion.
"Dearest Clerval," exclaimed I, "how kind, how very good you
are to me. This whole winter, instead of being spent in study,
as you promised yourself, has been consumed in my sick room.
How shall I ever repay you? I feel the greatest remorse for
the disappointment of which I have been the occasion; but you
will forgive me."
"You will repay me entirely, if you do not discompose yourself,
but get well as fast as you can; and since you appear in such
good spirits, I may speak to you on one subject, may I not?"
I trembled. One subject! what could it be? Could he allude to
an object on whom I dared not even think?
"Compose yourself," said Clerval, who observed my change of
colour, "I will not mention it, if it agitates you; but your
father and cousin would be very happy if they received a letter
from you in your own handwriting. They hardly know how ill you
have been, and are uneasy at your long silence."
"Is that all, my dear Henry? How could you suppose that my
first thoughts would not fly towards those dear, dear friends
whom I love, and who are so deserving of my love."
"If this is your present temper, my friend, you will perhaps be
glad to see a letter that has been lying here some days for
you; it is from your cousin, I believe."
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