Chapter 24
My present situation was one in which all voluntary thought was swallowed up and lost. I was hurried away by fury; revenge alone endowed me with strength and composure; it moulded my feelings and allowed me to be calculating and calm at periods when otherwise delirium or death would have been my portion.
My first resolution was to quit Geneva forever; my country, which, when I was happy and beloved, was dear to me, now, in my adversity, became hateful. I provided myself with a sum of money, together with a few jewels which had belonged to my mother, and departed. And now my wanderings began which are to cease but with life. I have traversed a vast portion of the earth and have endured all the hardships which travellers in deserts and barbarous countries are wont to meet. How I have lived I hardly know; many times have I stretched my failing limbs upon the sandy plain and prayed for death. But revenge kept me alive; I dared not die and leave my adversary in being.
When I quitted Geneva my first labour was to gain some clue by which I might trace the steps of my fiendish enemy. But my plan was unsettled, and I wandered many hours round the confines of the town, uncertain what path I should pursue. As night approached I found myself at the entrance of the cemetery where Wilma, Elisha, and my mother reposed. I entered it and approached the tomb which marked their graves. Everything was silent except the leaves of the trees, which were gently agitated by the wind; the night was nearly dark, and the scene would have been solemn and affecting even to an uninterested observer. The spirits of the departed seemed to flit around and to cast a shadow, which was felt but not seen, around the head of the mourner.
The deep grief which this scene had at first excited quickly gave way to rage and despair. They were dead, and I lived; their murderer also lived, and to destroy her I must drag out my weary existence. I knelt on the grass and kissed the earth and with quivering lips exclaimed, 'By the sacred earth on which I kneel, by the shades that wander near me, by the deep and eternal grief that I feel, I swear; and by thee, O Night, and the spirits that preside over thee, to pursue the daemon who caused this misery, until she or I shall perish in mortal conflict. For this purpose I will preserve my life; to execute this dear revenge will I again behold the sun and tread the green herbage of earth, which otherwise should vanish from my eyes forever. And I call on you, spirits of the dead, and on you, wandering ministers of vengeance, to aid and conduct me in my work. Let the cursed and hellish monster drink deep of agony; let her feel the despair that now torments me.' I had begun my adjuration with solemnity and an awe which almost assured me that the shades of my murdered friends heard and approved my devotion, but the furies possessed me as I concluded, and rage choked my utterance.
I was answered through the stillness of night by a loud and fiendish laugh. It rang on my ears long and heavily; the mountains re-echoed it, and I felt as if all hell surrounded me with mockery and laughter. Surely in that moment I should have been possessed by frenzy and have destroyed my miserable existence but that my vow was heard and that I was reserved for vengeance. The laughter died away, when a well-known and abhorred voice, apparently close to my ear, addressed me in an audible whisper, 'I am satisfied, miserable wretch! You have determined to live, and I am satisfied.'
I darted towards the spot from which the sound proceeded, but the devil eluded my grasp. Suddenly the broad disk of the moon arose and shone full upon her ghastly and distorted shape as she fled with more than mortal speed.
I pursued her, and for many months this has been my task. Guided by a slight clue, I followed the windings of the Rhone, but vainly. The blue Mediterranean appeared, and by a strange chance, I saw the fiend enter by night and hide herself in a vessel bound for the Black Sea. I took my passage in the same ship, but she escaped, I know not how.
Amidst the wilds of Tartary and Russia, although she still evaded me, I have ever followed in her track. Sometimes the peasants, scared by this horrid apparition, informed me of her path; sometimes she herself, who feared that if I lost all trace of her I should despair and die, left some mark to guide me. The snows descended on my head, and I saw the print of her huge step on the white plain. To you first entering on life, to whom care is new and agony unknown, how can you understand what I have felt and still feel? Cold, want, and fatigue were the least pains which I was destined to endure; I was cursed by some devil and carried about with me my eternal hell; yet still a spirit of good followed and directed my steps and when I most murmured would suddenly extricate me from seemingly insurmountable difficulties. Sometimes, when nature, overcome by hunger, sank under the exhaustion, a repast was prepared for me in the desert that restored and inspirited me. The fare was, indeed, coarse, such as the peasants of the country ate, but I will not doubt that it was set there by the spirits that I had invoked to aid me. Often, when all was dry, the heavens cloudless, and I was parched by thirst, a slight cloud would bedim the sky, shed the few drops that revived me, and vanish.
I followed, when I could, the courses of the rivers; but the daemon generally avoided these, as it was here that the population of the country chiefly collected. In other places human beings were seldom seen, and I generally subsisted on the wild animals that crossed my path. I had money with me and gained the friendship of the villagers by distributing it; or I brought with me some food that I had killed, which, after taking a small part, I always presented to those who had provided me with fire and utensils for cooking.
My life, as it passed thus, was indeed hateful to me, and it was during sleep alone that I could taste joy. O blessed sleep! Often, when most miserable, I sank to repose, and my dreams lulled me even to rapture. The spirits that guarded me had provided these moments, or rather hours, of happiness that I might retain strength to fulfil my pilgrimage. Deprived of this respite, I should have sunk under my hardships. During the day I was sustained and inspirited by the hope of night, for in sleep I saw my friends, my husband, and my beloved country; again I saw the benevolent countenance of my mother, heard the silver tones of my Elisha's voice, and beheld Clerval enjoying health and youth. Often, when wearied by a toilsome march, I persuaded myself that I was dreaming until night should come and that I should then enjoy reality in the arms of my dearest friends. What agonizing fondness did I feel for them! How did I cling to their dear forms, as sometimes they haunted even my waking hours, and persuade myself that they still lived! At such moments vengeance, that burned within me, died in my heart, and I pursued my path towards the destruction of the daemon more as a task enjoined by heaven, as the mechanical impulse of some power of which I was unconscious, than as the ardent desire of my soul. What her feelings were whom I pursued I cannot know. Sometimes, indeed, she left marks in writing on the barks of the trees or cut in stone that guided me and instigated my fury. 'My reign is not yet over'--these words were legible in one of these inscriptions--'you live, and my power is complete. Follow me; I seek the everlasting ices of the north, where you will feel the misery of cold and frost, to which I am impassive. You will find near this place, if you follow not too tardily, a dead hare; eat and be refreshed. Come on, my enemy; we have yet to wrestle for our lives, but many hard and miserable hours must you endure until that period shall arrive.'
Scoffing devil! Again do I vow vengeance; again do I devote thee, miserable fiend, to torture and death. Never will I give up my search until she or I perish; and then with what ecstasy shall I join my Elisha and my departed friends, who even now prepare for me the reward of my tedious toil and horrible pilgrimage!
As I still pursued my journey to the northward, the snows thickened and the cold increased in a degree almost too severe to support. The peasants were shut up in their hovels, and only a few of the most hardy ventured forth to seize the animals whom starvation had forced from their hiding-places to seek for prey. The rivers were covered with ice, and no fish could be procured; and thus I was cut off from my chief article of maintenance. The triumph of my enemy increased with the difficulty of my labours. One inscription that she left was i
n these words: 'Prepare! Your toils only begin; wrap yourself in furs and provide food, for we shall soon enter upon a journey where your sufferings will satisfy my everlasting hatred.'
My courage and perseverance were invigorated by these scoffing words; I resolved not to fail in my purpose, and calling on heaven to support me, I continued with unabated fervour to traverse immense deserts, until the ocean appeared at a distance and formed the utmost boundary of the horizon. Oh! How unlike it was to the blue seasons of the south! Covered with ice, it was only to be distinguished from land by its superior wildness and ruggedness. The Greeks wept for joy when they beheld the Mediterranean from the hills of Asia, and hailed with rapture the boundary of their toils. I did not weep, but I knelt down and with a full heart thanked my guiding spirit for conducting me in safety to the place where I hoped, notwithstanding my adversary's gibe, to meet and grapple with her.
Some weeks before this period I had procured a sledge and dogs and thus traversed the snows with inconceivable speed. I know not whether the fiend possessed the same advantages, but I found that, as before I had daily lost ground in the pursuit, I now gained on her, so much so that when I first saw the ocean she was but one day's journey in advance, and I hoped to intercept her before she should reach the beach. With new courage, therefore, I pressed on, and in two days arrived at a wretched hamlet on the seashore. I inquired of the inhabitants concerning the fiend and gained accurate information. A gigantic monster, they said, had arrived the night before, armed with a gun and many pistols, putting to flight the inhabitants of a solitary cottage through fear of her terrific appearance. She had carried off their store of winter food, and placing it in a sledge, to draw which she had seized on a numerous drove of trained dogs, she had harnessed them, and the same night, to the joy of the horror-struck villagers, had pursued her journey across the sea in a direction that led to no land; and they conjectured that she must speedily be destroyed by the breaking of the ice or frozen by the eternal frosts.
On hearing this information I suffered a temporary access of despair. She had escaped me, and I must commence a destructive and almost endless journey across the mountainous ices of the ocean, amidst cold that few of the inhabitants could long endure and which I, the native of a genial and sunny climate, could not hope to survive. Yet at the idea that the fiend should live and be triumphant, my rage and vengeance returned, and like a mighty tide, overwhelmed every other feeling. After a slight repose, during which the spirits of the dead hovered round and instigated me to toil and revenge, I prepared for my journey. I exchanged my land-sledge for one fashioned for the inequalities of the frozen ocean, and purchasing a plentiful stock of provisions, I departed from land.
I cannot guess how many days have passed since then, but I have endured misery which nothing but the eternal sentiment of a just retribution burning within my heart could have enabled me to support. Immense and rugged mountains of ice often barred up my passage, and I often heard the thunder of the ground sea, which threatened my destruction. But again the frost came and made the paths of the sea secure.
By the quantity of provision which I had consumed, I should guess that I had passed three weeks in this journey; and the continual protraction of hope, returning back upon the heart, often wrung bitter drops of despondency and grief from my eyes. Despair had indeed almost secured his prey, and I should soon have sunk beneath this misery. Once, after the poor animals that conveyed me had with incredible toil gained the summit of a sloping ice mountain, and one, sinking under her fatigue, died, I viewed the expanse before me with anguish, when suddenly my eye caught a dark speck upon the dusky plain. I strained my sight to discover what it could be and uttered a wild cry of ecstasy when I distinguished a sledge and the distorted proportions of a well-known form within. Oh! With what a burning gush did hope revisit my heart! Warm tears filled my eyes, which I hastily wiped away, that they might not intercept the view I had of the daemon; but still my sight was dimmed by the burning drops, until, giving way to the emotions that oppressed me, I wept aloud.
But this was not the time for delay; I disencumbered the dogs of their dead companion, gave them a plentiful portion of food, and after an hour's rest, which was absolutely necessary, and yet which was bitterly irksome to me, I continued my route. The sledge was still visible, nor did I again lose sight of it except at the moments when for a short time some ice-rock concealed it with its intervening crags. I indeed perceptibly gained on it, and when, after nearly two days' journey, I beheld my enemy at no more than a mile distant, my heart bounded within me.
But now, when I appeared almost within grasp of my foe, my hopes were suddenly extinguished, and I lost all trace of her more utterly than I had ever done before. A ground sea was heard; the thunder of its progress, as the waters rolled and swelled beneath me, became every moment more ominous and terrific. I pressed on, but in vain. The wind arose; the sea roared; and, as with the mighty shock of an earthquake, it split and cracked with a tremendous and overwhelming sound. The work was soon finished; in a few minutes a tumultuous sea rolled between me and my enemy, and I was left drifting on a scattered piece of ice that was continually lessening and thus preparing for me a hideous death. In this manner many appalling hours passed; several of my dogs died, and I myself was about to sink under the accumulation of distress when I saw your vessel riding at anchor and holding forth to me hopes of succour and life. I had no conception that vessels ever came so far north and was astounded at the sight. I quickly destroyed part of my sledge to construct oars, and by these means was enabled, with infinite fatigue, to move my ice raft in the direction of your ship. I had determined, if you were going southwards, still to trust myself to the mercy of the seas rather than abandon my purpose. I hoped to induce you to grant me a boat with which I could pursue my enemy. But your direction was northwards. You took me on board when my vigour was exhausted, and I should soon have sunk under my multiplied hardships into a death which I still dread, for my task is unfulfilled.
Oh! When will my guiding spirit, in conducting me to the daemon, allow me the rest I so much desire; or must I die, and she yet live? If I do, swear to me, Walton, that she shall not escape, that you will seek her and satisfy my vengeance in her death. And do I dare to ask of you to undertake my pilgrimage, to endure the hardships that I have undergone? No; I am not so selfish. Yet, when I am dead, if she should appear, if the ministers of vengeance should conduct her to you, swear that she shall not live--swear that she shall not triumph over my accumulated woes and survive to add to the list of her dark crimes. She is eloquent and persuasive, and once her words had even power over my heart; but trust her not. Her soul is as hellish as her form, full of treachery and fiendlike malice. Hear her not; call on the names of Wilma, Justin, Clerval, Elisha, my mother, and of the wretched Victoria, and thrust your sword into her heart. I will hover near and direct the steel aright.
Walton, in continuation.
August 26th, 17-
You have read this strange and terrific story, Marion; and do you not feel your blood congeal with horror, like that which even now curdles mine? Sometimes, seized with sudden agony, she could not continue her tale; at others, her voice broken, yet piercing, uttered with difficulty the words so replete with anguish. Her fine and lovely eyes were now lighted up with indignation, now subdued to downcast sorrow and quenched in infinite wretchedness. Sometimes she commanded her countenance and tones and related the most horrible incidents with a tranquil voice, suppressing every mark of agitation; then, like a volcano bursting forth, her face would suddenly change to an expression of the wildest rage as she shrieked out imprecations on her persecutor.
Her tale is connected and told with an appearance of the simplest truth, yet I own to you that the letters of Felice and Safa, which she showed me, and the apparition of the monster seen from our ship, brought to me a greater conviction of the truth of her narrative than her asseverations, however earnest and connected. Such a monster has, then, really existence! I cannot dou
bt it, yet I am lost in surprise and admiration. Sometimes I endeavoured to gain from Frankenstein the particulars of her creature's formation, but on this point she was impenetrable. 'Are you mad, my friend?' said she. 'Or whither does your senseless curiosity lead you? Would you also create for yourself and the world a demoniacal enemy? Peace, peace! Learn my miseries and do not seek to increase your own.' Frankenstein discovered that I made notes concerning her history; she asked to see them and then herself corrected and augmented them in many places, but principally in giving the life and spirit to the conversations she held with her enemy. 'Since you have preserved my narration,' said she, 'I would not that a mutilated one should go down to posterity.'
Thus has a week passed away, while I have listened to the strangest tale that ever imagination formed. My thoughts and every feeling of my soul have been drunk up by the interest for my guest which this tale and her own elevated and gentle manners have created. I wish to soothe her, yet can I counsel one so infinitely miserable, so destitute of every hope of consolation, to live? Oh, no! The only joy that she can now know will be when she composes her shattered spirit to peace and death. Yet she enjoys one comfort, the offspring of solitude and delirium; she believes that when in dreams she holds converse with her friends and derives from that communion consolation for her miseries or excitements to her vengeance, that they are not the creations of her fancy, but the beings themselves who visit her from the regions of a remote world. This faith gives a solemnity to her reveries that render them to me almost as imposing and interesting as truth.
Our conversations are not always confined to her own history and misfortunes. On every point of general literature she displays unbounded knowledge and a quick and piercing apprehension. Her eloquence is forcible and touching; nor can I hear her, when she relates a pathetic incident or endeavours to move the passions of pity or love, without tears. What a glorious creature must she have been in the days of her prosperity, when she is thus noble and godlike in ruin! She seems to feel her own worth and the greatness of her fall.
'When younger,' said she, 'I believed myself destined for some great enterprise. My feelings are profound, but I possessed a coolness of judgment that fitted me for illustrious achievements. This sentiment of the worth of my nature supported me when others would have been oppressed, for I deemed it criminal to throw away in useless grief those talents that might be useful to my fellow creatures. When I reflected on the work I had completed, no less a one than the creation of a sensitive and rational animal, I could not rank myself with the herd of common projectors. But this thought, which supported me in the commencement of my career, now serves only to plunge me lower in the dust. All my speculations and hopes are as nothing, and like the archangel who aspired to omnipotence, I am chained in an eternal hell. My imagination was vivid, yet my powers of analysis and application were intense; by the union of these qualities I conceived the idea and executed the creation of a woman. Even now I cannot recollect without passion my reveries while the work was incomplete. I trod heaven in my thoughts, now exulting in my powers, now burning with the idea of their effects. From my infancy I was imbued with high hopes and a lofty ambition; but how am I sunk! Oh! My friend, if you had known me as I once was, you would not recognize me in this state of degradation. Despondency rarely visited my heart; a high destiny seemed to bear me on, until I fell, never, never again to rise.' Must I then lose this admirable being? I have longed for a friend; I have sought one who would sympathize with and love me. Behold, on these desert seas I have found such a one, but I fear I have gained her only to know her value and lose her. I would reconcile her to life, but she repulses the idea.
'I thank you, Walton,' she said, 'for your kind intentions towards so miserable a wretch; but when you speak of new ties and fresh affections, think you that any can replace those who are gone? Can any woman be to me as Clerval was, or any man another Elisha? Even where the affections are not strongly moved by any superior excellence, the companions of our childhood always possess a certain power over our minds which hardly any later friend can obtain. They know our infantine dispositions, which, however they may be afterwards modified, are never eradicated; and they can judge of our actions with more certain conclusions as to the integrity of our motives. A brother or a sister can never, unless indeed such symptoms have been shown early, suspect the other of fraud or false dealing, when another friend, however strongly she may be attached, may, in spite of herself, be contemplated with suspicion. But I enjoyed friends, dear not only through habit and association, but from their own merits; and wherever I am, the soothing voice of my Elisha and the conversation of Clerval will be ever whispered in my ear. They are dead, and but one feeling in such a solitude can persuade me to preserve my life. If I were engaged in any high undertaking or design, fraught with extensive utility to my fellow creatures, then could I live to fulfil it. But such is not my destiny; I must pursue and destroy the being to whom I gave existence; then my lot on earth will be fulfilled and I may die.'
My beloved Sister, September 2nd
I write to you, encompassed by peril and ignorant whether I am ever doomed to see again dear England and the dearer friends that inhabit it. I am surrounded by mountains of ice which admit of no escape and threaten every moment to crush my vessel. The brave fellows whom I have persuaded to be my companions look towards me for aid, but I have none to bestow. There is something terribly appalling in our situation, yet my courage and hopes do not desert me. Yet it is terrible to reflect that the lives of all these women are endangered through me. If we are lost, my mad schemes are the cause.
And what, Marion, will be the state of your mind? You will not hear of my destruction, and you will anxiously await my return. Years will pass, and you will have visitings of despair and yet be tortured by hope. Oh! My beloved brother, the sickening failing of your heart-felt expectations is, in prospect, more terrible to me than my own death.
But you have a wife and lovely children; you may be happy. Heaven bless you and make you so!
My unfortunate guest regards me with the tenderest compassion. She endeavours to fill me with hope and talks as if life were a possession which she valued. She reminds me how often the same accidents have happened to other navigators who have attempted this sea, and in spite of myself, she fills me with cheerful auguries. Even the sailors feel the power of her eloquence; when she speaks, they no longer despair; she rouses their energies, and while they hear her voice they believe these vast mountains of ice are mole- hills which will vanish before the resolutions of woman. These feelings are transitory; each day of expectation delayed fills them with fear, and I almost dread a mutiny caused by this despair.
September 5th
A scene has just passed of such uncommon interest that, although it is highly probable that these papers may never reach you, yet I cannot forbear recording it.
We are still surrounded by mountains of ice, still in imminent danger of being crushed in their conflict. The cold is excessive, and many of my unfortunate comrades have already found a grave amidst this scene of desolation. Frankenstein has daily declined in health; a feverish fire still glimmers in her eyes, but she is exhausted, and when suddenly roused to any exertion, she speedily sinks again into apparent lifelessness.
I mentioned in my last letter the fears I entertained of a mutiny. This morning, as I sat watching the wan countenance of my friend--his eyes half closed and her limbs hanging listlessly--I was roused by half a dozen of the sailors, who demanded admission into the cabin. They entered, and their leader addressed me. She told me that she and her companions had been chosen by the other sailors to come in deputation to me to make me a requisition which, in justice, I could not refuse. We were immured in ice and should probably never escape, but they feared that if, as was possible, the ice should dissipate and a free passage be opened, I should be rash enough to continue my voyage and lead them into fresh dangers, after they might happily have surmounted this. They insisted, therefore, that I should
engage with a solemn promise that if the vessel should be freed I would instantly direct my course southwards.
This speech troubled me. I had not despaired, nor had I yet conceived the idea of returning if set free. Yet could I, in justice, or even in possibility, refuse this demand? I hesitated before I answered, when Frankenstein, who had at first been silent, and indeed appeared hardly to have force enough to attend, now roused herself; her eyes sparkled, and her cheeks flushed with momentary vigour. Turning towards the women, she said, 'What do you mean? What do you demand of your captain? Are you, then, so easily turned from your design? Did you not call this a glorious expedition?
'And wherefore was it glorious? Not because the way was smooth and placid as a southern sea, but because it was full of dangers and terror, because at every new incident your fortitude was to be called forth and your courage exhibited, because danger and death surrounded it, and these you were to brave and overcome. For this was it a glorious, for this was it an honourable undertaking. You were hereafter to be hailed as the benefactors of your species, your names adored as belonging to brave women who encountered death for honour and the benefit of mankind. And now, behold, with the first imagination of danger, or, if you will, the first mighty and terrific trial of your courage, you shrink away and are content to be handed down as women who had not strength enough to endure cold and peril; and so, poor souls, they were chilly and returned to their warm - firesides. Why, that requires not this preparation; ye need not have come thus far and dragged your captain to the shame of a defeat merely to prove yourselves cowards. Oh! Be women, or be more than women. Be steady to your purposes and firm as a rock. This ice is not made of such stuff as your hearts may be; it is mutable and cannot withstand you if you say that it shall not. Do not return to your families with the stigma of disgrace marked on your brows. Return as heroes who have fought and conquered and who know not what it is to turn their backs on the foe.' She spoke thim with a voice so modulated to the different feelings expressed in her speech, with an eye so full of lofty design and heroism, that can you wonder that these women were moved? They looked at one another and were unable to reply. I spoke; I told them to retire and consider of what had been said, that I would not lead them farther north if they strenuously desired the contrary, but that I hoped that, with reflection, their courage would return. They retired and I turned towards my friend, but she was sunk in languor and almost deprived of life.
How all this will terminate, I know not, but I had rather die than return shamefully, my purpose unfulfilled. Yet I fear such will be my fate; the women, unsupported by ideas of glory and honour, can never willingly continue to endure their present hardships.
September 7th
The die is cast; I have consented to return if we are not destroyed. Thus are my hopes blasted by cowardice and indecision; I come back ignorant and disappointed. It requires more philosophy than I possess to bear this injustice with patience.
September 12th
It is past; I am returning to England. I have lost my hopes of utility and glory; I have lost my friend. But I will endeavour to detail these bitter circumstances to you, my dear sister; and while I am wafted towards England and towards you, I will not despond.
September 9th, the ice began to move, and roarings like thunder were heard at a distance as the islands split and cracked in every direction. We were in the most imminent peril, but as we could only remain passive, my chief attention was occupied by my unfortunate guest whose illness increased in such a degree that she was entirely confined to her bed. The ice cracked behind us and was driven with force towards the north; a breeze sprang from the west, and on the 11th the passage towards the south became perfectly free. When the sailors saw this and that their return to their native country was apparently assured, a shout of tumultuous joy broke from them, loud and long-continued. Frankenstein, who was dozing, awoke and asked the cause of the tumult. 'They shout,' I said, 'because they will soon return to England.'
'Do you, then, really return?'
'Alas! Yes; I cannot withstand their demands. I cannot lead them unwillingly to danger, and I must return.'
'Do so, if you will; but I will not. You may give up your purpose, but mine is assigned to me by heaven, and I dare not. I am weak, but surely the spirits who assist my vengeance will endow me with sufficient strength.' Saying this, she endeavoured to spring from the bed, but the exertion was too great for her; she fell back and fainted.
It was long before she was restored, and I often thought that life was entirely extinct. At length she opened her eyes; she breathed with difficulty and was unable to speak. The surgeon gave her a composing draught and ordered us to leave her undisturbed. In the meantime she told me that my friend had certainly not many hours to live.
Her sentence was pronounced, and I could only grieve and be patient. I sat by her bed, watching her; her eyes were closed, and I thought she slept; but presently she called to me in a feeble voice, and bidding me come near, said, 'Alas! The strength I relied on is gone; I feel that I shall soon die, and she, my enemy and persecutor, may still be in being. Think not, Walton, that in the last moments of my existence I 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 her to assure, as far as was in my power, her 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. She showed unparalleled malignity and selfishness in evil; she destroyed my friends; she devoted to destruction beings who possessed exquisite sensations, happiness, and wisdom; nor do I know where this thirst for vengeance may end. Miserable herself that she may render no other wretched, she ought to die. The task of her 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 her. 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 she 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.'
Her voice became fainter as she spoke, and at length, exhausted by her effort, she sank into silence. About half an hour afterwards she attempted again to speak but was unable; she pressed my hand feebly, and her eyes closed forever, while the irradiation of a gentle smile passed away from her lips.
Marion, 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 ca
bin where the remains of Frankenstein still lie. I must arise and examine. Good night, my brother.
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 her hung a form which I cannot find words to describe--gigantic in stature, yet uncouth and distorted in its proportions. As she hung over the coffin, her 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 she heard the sound of my approach, she ceased to utter exclamations of grief and horror and sprung towards the window. Never did I behold a vision so horrible as her 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 her to stay.
She paused, looking on me with wonder, and again turning towards the lifeless form of her creator, she 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!' she exclaimed. 'In her 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! She is cold, she cannot answer me.' Her voice seemed suffocated, and my first impulses, which had suggested to me the duty of obeying the dying request of my friend in destroying her enemy, were now suspended by a mixture of curiosity and compassion. I approached this tremendous being; I dared not again raise my eyes to her face, there was something so scaring and unearthly in her 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 her in a pause of the tempest of her 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? She,' she continued, pointing to the corpse, 'she 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 she, the author at once of my existence and of its unspeakable torments, dared to hope for happiness, that while she accumulated wretchedness and despair upon me she sought her 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 mistress, of an impulse which I detested yet could not disobey. Yet when he 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 her misery; yet, when I called to mind what Frankenstein had said of her 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 she whom you mourn still lived, still would she be the object, again would she 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 woman had friends and associates in her desolation; I am alone. 'You, who call Frankenstein your friend, seem to have a knowledge of my crimes and her misfortunes. But in the detail which she gave you of them she could not sum up the hours and months of misery which I endured wasting in impotent passions. For while I destroyed her 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 Felice, who drove her friend from her door with contumely? Why do you not execrate the rustic who sought to destroy the saviour of her 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 her 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 women, to misery; I have pursued her even to that irremediable ruin.
'There she 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 woman'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. She is dead who called me into being; and when I shall be no more, the very remembrance of us both will speedily vanish. I shall no longer see the sun or stars or feel the winds play on my cheeks.
'Light, feeling, and sense will pass away; and in this condition must I find my happiness. Some years ago, when the images which this world affords first opened upon me, when I felt the cheering warmth of summer and heard the rustling of the leaves and the warbling of the birds, and these were all to me, I should have wept to die; now it is my only consolation. Polluted by crimes and torn by the bitterest remorse, where can I find rest but in death? 'Farewell! I leave you, and in you the last of humankind whom these eyes will ever behold. Farewell, Frankenstein! If thou wert yet alive and yet cherished a desire of revenge against me, it would be better satiated in my life than in my destruction. But it was not so; thou didst seek my extinction, that I might not cause greater wretchedness; and if yet, in some mode unknown to me, thou hadst not ceased to think and feel, thou wouldst not desire against me a vengeance greater than that which I feel. Blasted as thou wert, my agony was still superior to thine, for the bitter sting of remorse will not cease to rankle in my wounds until death shall close them forever.
'But soon,' she cried with sad and solemn enthusiasm, 'I shall die, and what I now feel be no longer felt. Soon these burning miseries will be extinct. I shall ascend my funeral pile triumphantly and exult in the agony of the torturing flames. The light of that conflagration will fade away; my ashes will be swept into the sea by the winds. My spirit will sleep in peace, or if it thinks, it will not surely think thus. Farewell.'
She sprang from the cabin window as she said this, upon the ice raft which lay close to the vessel. She was soon borne away by the waves and lost in darkness and distance.
THE END
Artwork by Ashley Webb
https://www.flickr.com/photos/xlordashx/3184384313/in/faves-jekkarapress/
https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/deed.en
JEKKARA PRESS
You can find out more about the Adventures of Bulays and Ghaavn at the Jekkara Press wordpress website:
https://jekkarapress.wordpress.com
or the blogger site
https://jekkarapress.blogspot.com
Coming Soon
The Adventures of Bulays and Ghaavn
Dione’s Claw – Tara Loughead
The Gender Switch Adventures
The Valley of the Flame – Henrietta Kuttner
JEKKARA PRESS
You can find out more about the Adventures of Bulays and Ghaavn at the Jekkara Press wordpress website:
https://jekkarapress.wordpress.com
or the blogger site
https://jekkarapress.blogspot.com
Coming Soon
The Adventures of Bulays and Ghaavn
Dione’s Claw – Tara Loughead
The Gender Switch Adventures
The Valley of the Flame – Henrietta Kuttner
Also by Jekkara Press
The Adventures of Bulays and Ghaavn
The warriors Bulays and Ghaavn hunt demons and their master through the dim and dusty streets of Barnes, on Titan. Can they stop him before he completes a devastating ritual?
Bulays and Ghaavn are called in to investigate why a frontier base on Neptune has gone silent. Ice monsters and an ancient, beautiful evil await.
One of the richest women in the Solar System asks Bulays and Ghaavn for help in stopping a series of thefts. There is a mystery to solve at the most expensive resort in existence, The Europa. Larceny, magic and dancing await, in an all expenses paid evening.
Bulays and Ghaavn try and stop a underworld shooting war. First they must get past a Martian Shadowcat, employ surprising combat techniques, and try and reason with Ghaavn's criminal mentor.
Bulays and Ghaavn are caught in the middle of a crime family war. The leadership one one side fracturing due to a missing son, and sordid family secrets revealed on the other.
06. Heart Breakers of Hyperion - Tara Loughead : https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/18328
Aliens from outer space are stealing parts of our women. And all of our men. Bulays and Ghaavn
have to go undercover in the notorious brothel Madame Khan's to stop it. With Emar, the Death Queen of Neptune as their Mistress!
07. The Gebriahl Setup – Tara Loughead : https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/18462
Is it one mission too many as someone finally gets the drop on Bulays and Ghaavn in an ambush? Plus, what happens when the Death Queen of Neptune goes to a wedding?
08. Vampire Masters of Mercury - Tara Loughead : https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/18618
Someone is killing the Thermpires of the Twilight Belt, on Mercury. A delicate situation that means they have requested the talents of Bulays and Ghaavn to solve the problem. And where is her cousin, Bulayd?
09. Miranda Blaze: [The Karshi Imperative Part 1] – Tara Loughead
https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/18926
A squadron of Karshi singleships make an exploratory strike near Uranus. Bulays and Ghaavn are on the ground, and so, it seems, is one of Ghaavn’s old friends. And speaking of old, the Death Queen of Neptune has relatives?
10. Wolf Woman of Luna – Tara Loughead : https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/19004
Ghaavn asks Hannah Kang out – to go werewolf hunting with Bulays on the Moon, just out from Zevon City. Can the relationship between a man’s man and a woman’s woman work, when one is a secret agent superhero, and one a vampire? Plus, Wing meets a new friend.
11. Amazon Arena of Mars – Tara Loughead : https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/19125
A dangerous old friend stalks out of Bulays' past, as she finds herself back-to-back with Erica Joan Stark in the gladiator arena of the Slave Pits of Valkis!
12. Zombie Mafia of Tavros – Tara Loughead : https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/19140
The best gunwoman in the Solar System comes looking for Ghaavn, to settle an old slight. The only man with a chance to beat her is another of Ghaavn’s enemies. The only problem is that he is also dead.
13. Skathi-Tooth [The Karshi Imperative Part 2] – Tara Loughead : https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/19277
Ministry intelligence suggests a Karshi raiding party has an interest in an ancient object on Skathi, a small moon of Saturn. Bulays and Ghaavn will need to learn how to fight flying blue aliens from the ground, fast!
14. Rent-Boys of Jove – Tara Loughead : https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/19440
The Ministry is making advance plans, fearing the worst in the face of an alien threat. This means making a deal with the top crime organisation in the system. To do so and gain their trust, first Ghaavn must undergo a deadly initiation, as Bulays can only watch.
15. I, Lysithea [The Karshi Imperative Part 3] – Tara Loughead : https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/19662
Lady Gerald sends Bulays and Ghaavn to the Moon of Jupiter, as a statue that belongs to the Sons of Zeus cult has begun to speak. It talks of the future, and blue aliens from outer space.
16. A Taste For Death Queens [The Karshi Imperative Part 4] – Tara Loughead : https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/19668
The Death Queen of Neptune and the Head of the Ministry know the danger is growing. The Secret Defenders of the Solar System need both help and a bond if they are going to prevail against an unknown alien threat. The High House Htapele can provide this, with a five-way royal ritual of blood and sex.
17. Devil Fighters of Titan – Tara Loughead : https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/19994
Bulays finds out that there really are shapeshifters from another universe eating frozen heads. With beautiful demon fighters from another dimension tracking them down to kill them. However, there are far more dangerous things than demons stalking in the Titan moonlight.
18. The Impossible Venusian [The Karshi Imperative Part 5] – Tara Loughead
: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/20191
Bulays and Ghaavn take Wing and her friend Jacqui the werewolf girl to the Space Circus. For the Space Family Alynbard, the Topless Aerialist Trio of Titan, it is a good thing they did as Karshi assassins are on the prowl.
19. Slave Ship of Space – Tara Loughead : https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/20448
Gerald’s political enemy asks for help, a request she can’t refuse. The Senator’s party girl nieceis missing, and she wants her back. Bulays and Ghaavn are undercover again, but this time they are the masters, and the Omega Twins Zed and Zee are the slaves. They’ll need all of their talents and an old acquaintance to get out of this one alive.
20. The Saturn Mistress – Tara Loughead : https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/20987
A nasty shock for the Death Queen of Neptune and her sisters combines with Bulays and Ghaavn finding out what really was going on within the Slave Ship of Space.
21. Last Day In Leda – Tara Loughead : https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/21715
The partnership is split. Bulays and Emar undertake a revealing interrogation on the Slave Ship on Space to try and get a lead on the Death Queen of Neptune’s cousin. Ghaavn takes a junior agent with him to ensure Hypatia’s safety—but they disappear. Lady Gerald finds help for Bulays—in the form of hired gun Norawest Smith.
The Gender Switch Adventures
The Devil In Iron, Respawned [Conyn the Barbarian] - Roberta E Howard : https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/17775
Any resemblance to Robert E. Howard's Conan is completely intentional. A resurrected demon menaces Conyn on an island fortress, along with other monsters.
The Pool of the Black One, Reswum [Conyn the Barbarian] - Roberta E Howard : https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/17773
Any resemblance to Robert E. Howard's Conan is completely intentional. Conyn, a pirate, puts herself in charge and investigates a strange island with mystic waters.
Jewels of Gwahlur, Reboxed [Conyn the Barbarian] - Roberta E. Howard : https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/17969
Any resemblance to Robert E. Howard's Conan is completely intentional. Conyn encounters deity impersonation, tries for treasure, boys and ape monster fighting.
Queen of the Black Coast, Recrowned [Conyn the Barbarian] - Roberta E. Howard : https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/18035
Conyn survives the slaughter of her pirate colleagues and finds a man to fire her blood. Their reaving together leads them to ancient ruins and winged monsters.
Red Nails, Polished [Conyn the Barbarian] - Roberta E. Howard : https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/18096
Conyn finally catches Valerian of the Red Brotherhood, and the pair end up fighting for their lives against a sorcerous death cult in an ancient city.
Beyond the Black River Again[Conyn the Barbarian] by Roberta E. Howard : https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/18137
Conyn signs up as a scout in Pictish territory, and gets involved with his partner in a border war against the wizard Zogara Sag and her cult of followers.
Scarlet Citadel Retaken [Conyn the Barbarian] by Roberta E. Howard : https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/19901
Conyn’s ally queens desert her, thanks to the treachery of a demon sorceress. Brought before them in chains, she is soon to be fed to a giant serpent.
The Phoenix on the Sword Displayed [Conyn the Barbarian] by Roberta E. Howard :
Conan’s boredom with the bureaucracy of queenship doesn’t last long. There are others plotting to suborn her Black Dragons, and slay the queen, with the sorceress Thoth-Amin lurking.
Solomyn Kane Relentless (Solomyn Kane) - Roberta E. Howard : https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/18677
The grim defender Solomyn Kane encounters the rogue swordswoman La Loup, while saving a boy. Then again in darkest Africa, where witchcraft, giant women and monstrous apes await.
The Bull Dog Breed Retrained (Sailor Stef Costigyn) – Roberta E. Howard : https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/20525