Франкенштейн, или Современный Прометей / Frankenstein, or The Modern Prometheus. Уровень 2

Yet his manners are conciliating and gentle. I begin to love him as a brother. His constant and deep grief fills me with sympathy and compassion.

August 13th, 17-.

My affection for my guest increases every day. He excites my admiration and my pity. He is so gentle, yet so wise. When he speaks, his words flow with rapidity and eloquence.

He is now continually on the deck, watching for the sledge that preceded his own. He knows my feelings. How gladly I shall sacrifice my fortune, my existence, my every hope, to the furtherance of my enterprise! One man’s life or death are a small price to pay for the acquirement of the knowledge which I seek.

And I told him about it. As I spoke, a dark gloom spread over my listener’s countenance. At first I perceived that he tried to suppress his emotion. He placed his hands before his eyes; a groan burst from his breast. I paused. At length he spoke:

“Unhappy man! Do you share my madness? Hear me; let me reveal my tale!”

Such words, you may imagine, strongly excited my curiosity.

“We are helpless creatures,” said the stranger; “we need someone wiser, better, dearer than ourselves. I once had a friend, the most noble of human creatures. But I have lost everything and cannot begin life anew.”

His grief touched me to the heart. But he was silent and retired to his cabin.

August 19th, 17-.

Yesterday the stranger said to me,

“You may easily perceive, Captain Walton, that I have suffered great misfortunes.

Will the memory of these evils die with me? No. You seek for knowledge and wisdom, as I once did. I ardently hope that the gratification of your wishes may not be a serpent to you. I do not know if the relation of my disasters is useful to you. Yet I imagine that you may deduce an apt moral from my tale, one that may direct you and console you in case of failure. Prepare to listen to my story.

I wanted to hear the promised narrative, partly from curiosity and partly from a desire to ameliorate his fate.

I expressed these feelings in my answer.

“I thank you,” he replied, “for your sympathy, but it is useless; my fate is nearly fulfilled. I wait but for one event, and then I shall repose in peace. I understand your feeling, but you are wrong, my friend. Nothing can alter my destiny. Listen to my history.”

He wanted to commence his narrative the next day. I resolved every night to record what he related.