Книга · Frankenstein
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Автор: Mary Shelley
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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.
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