my eyes, and I felt some faintness. I perceived, as the shape came nearer, that it was my wretch, me demon. I trembled with rage and horror. He approached. His unearthly ugliness was too horrible for human eyes. But I scarcely observed this.
“Devil,” I exclaimed, “do you dare approach me? And do not you fear the fierce vengeance of my arm on your miserable head? Begone, vile insect! Or rather, stay, I shall trample you to dust! I want to restore those victims whom you have so diabolically murdered!”
“I expected this reception,” said the demon. “All men hate the wretched. Yet you, my creator, detest and spurn me, your creature. You want to kill me. How dare you play with life? Do your duty towards me, and I will do mine towards you and the rest of mankind. I will leave them and you at peace. But if you refuse, I will glut the maw of death with the blood of your friends.”
“Abhorred monster! Fiend! The tortures of hell are too mild a vengeance for your crimes. Wretched devil! You reproach me with your creation. Come here. I will extinguish the spark which I so negligently bestowed.”
My rage was without bounds. I sprang on him. He easily eluded me and said,
“Be calm! Hear me. Have I not suffered enough, that you seek to increase my misery? Life is dear to me, and I will defend it. Remember, you made me more powerful than yourself. But I will not fight you. I am your creature, and I will be even mild and docile to my lord and king if you also perform your duty, oh, Frankenstein. Remember that I am your creature. But I’m not your Adam, I am the fallen angel[19]. Everywhere I see bliss, from which I alone am irrevocably excluded. I was benevolent and good. Misery made me a fiend. Make me happy, and I shall again be virtuous.”
“Begone! I will not hear you. There can be no community between you and me. We are enemies. Begone, or let us fight.”
“Will anything cause you to turn a favourable eye upon your creature? I implore your goodness and compassion! Believe me, Frankenstein, I was benevolent. My soul glowed with love and humanity. But I am alone, miserably alone. You, my creator, abhor me. Other people spurn and hate me. The desert mountains and dreary glaciers are my refuge. I have wandered here many days. The caves of ice are a dwelling to me. These bleak skies are kinder to me than your friends. If the people know of my existence, they will kill me. Shall I not then hate them who abhor me? I will not be a friend to my enemies. I am miserable, and they will share my wretchedness. Yet it is in your power to recompense me. Please do not disdain me. Listen to my tale; and then abandon or commiserate me. But hear me. Listen to me, Frankenstein. You accuse me of murder, and yet you want to destroy your own creature. Is that justice? Listen to me, and then, if you can, and if you want, destroy the work of your hands.”
“Cursed be[20] the day,” I rejoined, “abhorred devil, in which you first saw light! Cursed (although I curse myself) be the hands that formed you! Begone! Relieve me from the sight of your detested form.”
“Oh my creator,” he said; “still you can listen to me and grant me your compassion. By the virtues that I once possessed, I demand this from you. Hear my tale; it is long and strange. It is very cold here; come to the hut upon the mountain. You will hear my story and decide. It depends on you:whether I quit for ever the mankind and lead a harmless life, or become the scourge of your friends and ruin you.”
As he said this he walked across the ice. I followed. I did not answer him, but I decided to listen to his tale. Curiosity and compassion confirmed my resolution. I looked at him as at the murderer of my brother, and I wanted a confirmation or denial of this opinion. Also, I felt what the duties of a creator towards his creature were. I must make him happy before I complain of his wickedness. These motives urged me to follow him.
We crossed the ice and ascended the opposite rock. The air was cold, and the rain again began to descend. We entered the hut. I was ready to listen. So he began his tale.
Chapter 11
“I hardly remember the first moments of my life. All the events of that period appear confused and indistinct. A strange multiplicity of sensations seized me. I saw, felt, heard, and smelt at the same time. I remember, a strong light pressed upon my nerves, so I shut my eyes. Darkness then came over me and troubled me. Then I opened my eyes again. I walked and descended.
Dark and opaque bodies surrounded me. The light became more and more oppressive to me, and I walked to look for a place where I could receive shade. This was the forest near Ingolstadt. Here I lay by the side of a brook, until I felt hunger and thirst. This roused me from my dormant state. I ate some berries which I found on the trees or on the ground. I drank from the brook and then slept.
It was dark when I awoke. I felt cold also, and half frightened. I was desolate. Before I quitted your apartment, I covered myself with some clothes. But these were insufficient to secure me from the dews of night. I was a poor, helpless, miserable wretch. Pain invaded me on all sides. I sat down and wept.
Soon a gentle light gave me a sensation of pleasure. I beheld a radiant form rise from among the trees. It was the moon. It moved slowly, but it enlightened my path, and I again went out to look for berries.
I was still cold when under the tree I found a huge cloak. I sat down upon the ground. I felt hunger, and thirst, and darkness. Innumerable sounds rang in my ears. On all sides various scents saluted me. I could distinguish the bright moon, and I fixed my eyes on that with pleasure.
Some days and nights passed, when I began to distinguish my sensations. I began to observe the forms that surrounded me. Sometimes I tried to imitate the pleasant songs of the birds. Sometimes I wished to express my sensations, but the inarticulate sounds frightened me.
I remained in the forest. My sensations became distinct, and my mind received every day additional ideas. My eyes began to perceive objects in their right forms. I distinguished the insect from the herb, and one herb from another.
One day, I found a fire. Some beggars left it. I experienced warmth from it. In my joy I thrust my hand into the fire, but quickly drew it out again with a cry of pain. How strange, I thought! I examined the materials of the fire. It was wood. I quickly collected some branches. When night came, I covered the fire carefully with dry wood and leaves and placed wet branches. Then I lay on the ground and slept.
It was morning when I awoke, and I uncovered the fire. I found some roasted offals. They tasted much more savoury than the berries I gathered from the trees. I tried, therefore, to roast my food. The nuts and roots were tasty.
Food, however, became scarce, and I often spent the whole day to search for a few acorns. I resolved to quit the place. I lamented the loss of the fire, I did not know how to reproduce it. I passed three days in rambles and at length discovered the open country[21]
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fallen angel – падший ангел
cursed be – да будет проклят
open country – открытое место
