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passed the bridge of Pelissier, where the ravine opened before me, and I began to ascend the mountain that overhangs it. Soon after, I entered the valley of Chamounix. This valley is more wonderful and sublime, but not so beautiful and picturesque as that of Servox. I saw no more ruined castles and fertile fields. Immense glaciers approached the road. Mont Blanc, the supreme and magnificent Mont Blanc, raised itself from the aiguilles, and its tremendous dome overlooked the valley.

      At length I arrived at the village of Chamounix. For a short time I remained at the window. The sounds of a river acted as a lullaby to me. When I placed my head upon my pillow, sleep crept over me.

      Chapter 10

      I spent the following day in the valley. I stood beside the sources of the Arveiron. The abrupt sides of vast mountains were before me. The icy wall of the glacier overhung me. The solemn silence of the glorious Nature! The sublime and magnificent scenes afforded me the great consolation. They elevated me from all littleness of feeling. Although they did not remove my grief, they subdued and tranquillised it.

      Where did they flee when the next morning I awoke? Dark melancholy clouded every thought. The rain was hard, and thick mists hid the summits of the mountains. But what were rain and storm to me? I took my mule and I resolved to ascend to the summit of Montanvert. I remember the effect that the view of the tremendous glacier produced upon my mind when I first saw it.

      It filled me with a sublime ecstasy that gave wings to the soul.

      I determined to go without a guide, for I knew the path. The presence of another will destroy the solitary grandeur of the scene.

      The ascent is precipitous. It is a scene terrifically desolate. Trees lie broken and strewed on the ground. The path is intersected by ravines of snow. The pines are not tall or luxuriant, but they are sombre and add an air of severity to the scene. I looked on the valley beneath. Vast mists were rising from the rivers which ran through it.

      It was nearly noon when I arrived at the top of the ascent. For some time I sat upon the rock that overlooks the sea of ice. A mist covered the surrounding mountains. The surface is very uneven. The field of ice is almost a league in width. The opposite mountain is a bare perpendicular rock. From the side where I now stood Montanvert was exactly opposite. Above it rose Mont Blanc, in awful majesty. Oh, what a wonderful and stupendous scene! The sea, or rather the vast river of ice, wound among its dependent mountains. Their icy peaks shone in the sunlight over the clouds. My heart swelled with joy. I exclaimed,

      “Wandering spirits, if you do not rest in your narrow beds, allow me this faint happiness, or take me, as your companion, away from the joys of life!”

      As I said this I suddenly beheld the figure of a man, at some distance. He was advancing towards me with superhuman speed. He bounded over the crevices in the ice. A mist came over 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.

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<p>19</p>

fallen angel – падший ангел

<p>20</p>

cursed be – да будет проклят