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- Стр. 31/86
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Thus
spoke
my
prophetic
soul
,
as
,
torn
by
remorse
,
horror
,
and
despair
,
I
beheld
those
I
loved
spend
vain
sorrow
upon
the
graves
of
William
and
Justine
,
the
first
hapless
victims
to
my
unhallowed
arts
.
Nothing
is
more
painful
to
the
human
mind
than
,
after
the
feelings
have
been
worked
up
by
a
quick
succession
of
events
,
the
dead
calmness
of
inaction
and
certainty
which
follows
and
deprives
the
soul
both
of
hope
and
fear
.
Justine
died
,
she
rested
,
and
I
was
alive
.
The
blood
flowed
freely
in
my
veins
,
but
a
weight
of
despair
and
remorse
pressed
on
my
heart
which
nothing
could
remove
.
Sleep
fled
from
my
eyes
;
I
wandered
like
an
evil
spirit
,
for
I
had
committed
deeds
of
mischief
beyond
description
horrible
,
and
more
,
much
more
(
I
persuaded
myself
)
was
yet
behind
.
Yet
my
heart
overflowed
with
kindness
and
the
love
of
virtue
.
I
had
begun
life
with
benevolent
intentions
and
thirsted
for
the
moment
when
I
should
put
them
in
practice
and
make
myself
useful
to
my
fellow
beings
.
Now
all
was
blasted
;
instead
of
that
serenity
of
conscience
which
allowed
me
to
look
back
upon
the
past
with
self-satisfaction
,
and
from
thence
to
gather
promise
of
new
hopes
,
I
was
seized
by
remorse
and
the
sense
of
guilt
,
which
hurried
me
away
to
a
hell
of
intense
tortures
such
as
no
language
can
describe
.
This
state
of
mind
preyed
upon
my
health
,
which
had
perhaps
never
entirely
recovered
from
the
first
shock
it
had
sustained
.
I
shunned
the
face
of
man
;
all
sound
of
joy
or
complacency
was
torture
to
me
;
solitude
was
my
only
consolation
--
deep
,
dark
,
deathlike
solitude
.
My
father
observed
with
pain
the
alteration
perceptible
in
my
disposition
and
habits
and
endeavoured
by
arguments
deduced
from
the
feelings
of
his
serene
conscience
and
guiltless
life
to
inspire
me
with
fortitude
and
awaken
in
me
the
courage
to
dispel
the
dark
cloud
which
brooded
over
me
.
"
Do
you
think
,
Victor
,
"
said
he
,
"
that
I
do
not
suffer
also
?
No
one
could
love
a
child
more
than
I
loved
your
brother
"
--
tears
came
into
his
eyes
as
he
spoke
--
"
but
is
it
not
a
duty
to
the
survivors
that
we
should
refrain
from
augmenting
their
unhappiness
by
an
appearance
of
immoderate
grief
?
It
is
also
a
duty
owed
to
yourself
,
for
excessive
sorrow
prevents
improvement
or
enjoyment
,
or
even
the
discharge
of
daily
usefulness
,
without
which
no
man
is
fit
for
society
.
"
This
advice
,
although
good
,
was
totally
inapplicable
to
my
case
;
I
should
have
been
the
first
to
hide
my
grief
and
console
my
friends
if
remorse
had
not
mingled
its
bitterness
,
and
terror
its
alarm
,
with
my
other
sensations
.
Now
I
could
only
answer
my
father
with
a
look
of
despair
and
endeavour
to
hide
myself
from
his
view
.
About
this
time
we
retired
to
our
house
at
Belrive
.
This
change
was
particularly
agreeable
to
me
.
The
shutting
of
the
gates
regularly
at
ten
o'clock
and
the
impossibility
of
remaining
on
the
lake
after
that
hour
had
rendered
our
residence
within
the
walls
of
Geneva
very
irksome
to
me
.
I
was
now
free
.
Often
,
after
the
rest
of
the
family
had
retired
for
the
night
,
I
took
the
boat
and
passed
many
hours
upon
the
water
.
Sometimes
,
with
my
sails
set
,
I
was
carried
by
the
wind
;
and
sometimes
,
after
rowing
into
the
middle
of
the
lake
,
I
left
the
boat
to
pursue
its
own
course
and
gave
way
to
my
own
miserable
reflections
.
I
was
often
tempted
,
when
all
was
at
peace
around
me
,
and
I
the
only
unquiet
thing
that
wandered
restless
in
a
scene
so
beautiful
and
heavenly
--
if
I
except
some
bat
,
or
the
frogs
,
whose
harsh
and
interrupted
croaking
was
heard
only
when
I
approached
the
shore
--
often
,
I
say
,
I
was
tempted
to
plunge
into
the
silent
lake
,
that
the
waters
might
close
over
me
and
my
calamities
forever
.
But
I
was
restrained
,
when
I
thought
of
the
heroic
and
suffering
Elizabeth
,
whom
I
tenderly
loved
,
and
whose
existence
was
bound
up
in
mine
.
I
thought
also
of
my
father
and
surviving
brother
;
should
I
by
my
base
desertion
leave
them
exposed
and
unprotected
to
the
malice
of
the
fiend
whom
I
had
let
loose
among
them
?
At
these
moments
I
wept
bitterly
and
wished
that
peace
would
revisit
my
mind
only
that
I
might
afford
them
consolation
and
happiness
.
But
that
could
not
be
.
Remorse
extinguished
every
hope
.
I
had
been
the
author
of
unalterable
evils
,
and
I
lived
in
daily
fear
lest
the
monster
whom
I
had
created
should
perpetrate
some
new
wickedness
.
I
had
an
obscure
feeling
that
all
was
not
over
and
that
he
would
still
commit
some
signal
crime
,
which
by
its
enormity
should
almost
efface
the
recollection
of
the
past
.
There
was
always
scope
for
fear
so
long
as
anything
I
loved
remained
behind
.
My
abhorrence
of
this
fiend
can
not
be
conceived
.
When
I
thought
of
him
I
gnashed
my
teeth
,
my
eyes
became
inflamed
,
and
I
ardently
wished
to
extinguish
that
life
which
I
had
so
thoughtlessly
bestowed
.
When
I
reflected
on
his
crimes
and
malice
,
my
hatred
and
revenge
burst
all
bounds
of
moderation
.
I
would
have
made
a
pilgrimage
to
the
highest
peak
of
the
Andes
,
could
I
when
there
have
precipitated
him
to
their
base
.
I
wished
to
see
him
again
,
that
I
might
wreak
the
utmost
extent
of
abhorrence
on
his
head
and
avenge
the
deaths
of
William
and
Justine
.
Our
house
was
the
house
of
mourning
.
My
father
's
health
was
deeply
shaken
by
the
horror
of
the
recent
events
.
Elizabeth
was
sad
and
desponding
;
she
no
longer
took
delight
in
her
ordinary
occupations
;
all
pleasure
seemed
to
her
sacrilege
toward
the
dead
;
eternal
woe
and
tears
she
then
thought
was
the
just
tribute
she
should
pay
to
innocence
so
blasted
and
destroyed
.
She
was
no
longer
that
happy
creature
who
in
earlier
youth
wandered
with
me
on
the
banks
of
the
lake
and
talked
with
ecstasy
of
our
future
prospects
.
The
first
of
those
sorrows
which
are
sent
to
wean
us
from
the
earth
had
visited
her
,
and
its
dimming
influence
quenched
her
dearest
smiles
.
"
When
I
reflect
,
my
dear
cousin
,
"
said
she
,
"
on
the
miserable
death
of
Justine
Moritz
,
I
no
longer
see
the
world
and
its
works
as
they
before
appeared
to
me
.
Before
,
I
looked
upon
the
accounts
of
vice
and
injustice
that
I
read
in
books
or
heard
from
others
as
tales
of
ancient
days
or
imaginary
evils
;
at
least
they
were
remote
and
more
familiar
to
reason
than
to
the
imagination
;
but
now
misery
has
come
home
,
and
men
appear
to
me
as
monsters
thirsting
for
each
other
's
blood
.
Yet
I
am
certainly
unjust
.
Everybody
believed
that
poor
girl
to
be
guilty
;
and
if
she
could
have
committed
the
crime
for
which
she
suffered
,
assuredly
she
would
have
been
the
most
depraved
of
human
creatures
.
For
the
sake
of
a
few
jewels
,
to
have
murdered
the
son
of
her
benefactor
and
friend
,
a
child
whom
she
had
nursed
from
its
birth
,
and
appeared
to
love
as
if
it
had
been
her
own
!
I
could
not
consent
to
the
death
of
any
human
being
,
but
certainly
I
should
have
thought
such
a
creature
unfit
to
remain
in
the
society
of
men
.
But
she
was
innocent
.
I
know
,
I
feel
she
was
innocent
;
you
are
of
the
same
opinion
,
and
that
confirms
me
.
Alas
!
Victor
,
when
falsehood
can
look
so
like
the
truth
,
who
can
assure
themselves
of
certain
happiness
?
I
feel
as
if
I
were
walking
on
the
edge
of
a
precipice
,
towards
which
thousands
are
crowding
and
endeavouring
to
plunge
me
into
the
abyss
.
William
and
Justine
were
assassinated
,
and
the
murderer
escapes
;
he
walks
about
the
world
free
,
and
perhaps
respected
.
But
even
if
I
were
condemned
to
suffer
on
the
scaffold
for
the
same
crimes
,
I
would
not
change
places
with
such
a
wretch
.
"
