Читать книгу Франкенштейн, или Современный Прометей / Frankenstein, or The Modern Prometheus - Мэри Шелли - Страница 11

Clerval then put the letter into my hands. It was from my Elizabeth:

“My dearest Cousin,

You have been ill, very ill, and even the constant letters of dear kind Henry are not sufficient to calm me. You can't write, you can't hold a pen. I have restrained my uncle from a journey to Ingolstadt. This long journey can be dangerous for him. Clerval writes that indeed you are getting better[14]. I eagerly hope that you will confirm these words.

Get well and return to us. You will find a happy, cheerful home and friends who love you dearly. Your father's health is vigorous, and he wants to see you. Our Ernest is now sixteen and full of activity. He wants to be a true Swiss and to enter into foreign service. My uncle does not like the idea of a military career in a distant country.

Since you left us, one change has taken place in our little household. Do you remember how Justine Moritz entered our family? Probably you do not. I will relate her history, in a few words. Madame Moritz, her mother, was a widow with four children, of whom Justine was the third. Her mother did not like her, and after the death of M. Moritz, treated her very ill[15]. My aunt observed this, and when Justine was twelve, asked her mother to allow her to live at our house. In our family, Justine learned the duties of a servant. My aunt liked her very much and gave her an excellent education. Justine was the most grateful little creature in the world.

One by one, her brothers and sister died; and her mother became childless. So she began to think that the deaths of her children was a judgement from heaven. A few months after your departure for Ingolstadt, Justine's repentant mother called her home. Poor girl! She wept when she quitted our house.

But her mother was very vacillating in her repentance. She sometimes begged Justine to forgive her unkindness, but much oftener accused her of the deaths of her brothers and sister. Madame Moritz died on the first approach of cold weather. Justine returned to us.

I must say also a few words to you, my dear cousin, of little darling William. He is very tall, with sweet blue eyes, dark eyelashes, and curling hair. When he smiles, two little dimples appear on each cheek, which are rosy.

Write, dearest Victor! One line, one word will be a blessing to us. Ten thousand thanks to Henry for his kindness, his affection, and his many letters; we are sincerely grateful.

Elizabeth Lavenza.

Geneva, March 18th, 17-.”

“Dear, dear Elizabeth!” I exclaimed. “I will write instantly!”

I wrote, and this exertion greatly fatigued me. In another fortnight I was able to leave my chamber.

One of my first duties on my recovery was to introduce Clerval to the several professors of the university. But I conceived a violent antipathy to the natural philosophy. The sight of a chemical instrument renewed the agony of my nervous symptoms. Henry saw this, and removed all my apparatus from my view. He also changed my apartment; for he perceived that I acquired a dislike for my laboratory. I thanked my friend, but I did not speak. I saw plainly that he was surprised. But he never attempted to draw my secret from me.

M. Krempe's harsh blunt encomiums gave me even more pain than the benevolent approbation of M. Waldman.

Clerval came to the university to study the oriental languages. The Persian, Arabic, and Sanskrit languages engaged his attention, and I liked them too. I felt great relief with my friend, and found consolation in the works of the orientalists.

Summer passed away in these occupations, and I planned to return to Geneva in autumn. But winter and snow arrived, the roads were impassable, and I decided to travel in spring.

In May we made a pedestrian tour in the environs of Ingolstadt. My health was restored. I breathed salubrious air. The season was divine; the flowers of spring bloomed in the hedges.