Frankenstein;

or, the Modern Prometheus

by Mary Wollstonecraft (Godwin) Shelley

Chapter 5
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 bed-chamber, 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 downstairs. 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 book-keeping; 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 behold 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 thought 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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