The Modern Prometheus modern design twist on Mary Shelley's Frankenstein | Page 29

Volume 1

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 sowwwught 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,

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