The Modern Prometheus modern design twist on Mary Shelley's Frankenstein | Page 25

Letter 4

as I once did; and I ardently hope that the gratification of
your wishes may not be a serpent to sting you, as mine has
been. I do not know that the relation of my disasters will
be useful to you; yet, when I reflect that you are pursuing
the same course, exposing yourself to the same dangers
which have rendered me what I am, I imagine that you may
deduce an apt moral from my tale, one that may direct you
if you succeed in your undertaking and console you in case
of failure. Prepare to hear of occurrences which are usually
deemed marvellous. Were we among the tamer scenes of
nature I might fear to encounter your unbelief, perhaps your
ridicule; but many things will appear possible in these wild
and mysterious regions which would provoke the laughter
of those unacquainted with the ever — varied powers of
nature; nor can I doubt but that my tale conveys in its series
internal evidence of the truth of the events of which it is
composed.”
You may easily imagine that I was much gratified by the
offered communication, yet I could not endure that he
should renew his grief by a recital of his misfortunes. I felt
the greatest eagerness to hear the promised narrative, partly
from curiosity and partly from a strong desire to ameliorate
his fate if it were in my power. 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,”
continued he, perceiving that I wished to interrupt him; “but
you are mistaken, my friend, if thus you will allow me to
name you; nothing can alter my destiny; listen to my history,
and you will perceive how irrevocably it is determined.”
He then told me that he would commence his narrative the
next day when I should be at leisure. This promise drew from
me the warmest thanks. I have resolved every night, when