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Автор: Mary Shelley

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"Can you wonder that such thoughts transported me with rage? I
only wonder that at that moment, instead of venting my sensations
in exclamations and agony, I did not rush among mankind and
perish in the attempt to destroy them.
"While I was overcome by these feelings, I left the spot where I
had committed the murder, and seeking a more secluded
hiding-place, I entered a barn which had appeared to me to be
empty. A woman was sleeping on some straw; she was young, not
indeed so beautiful as her whose portrait I held, but of an
agreeable aspect and blooming in the loveliness of youth and
health. Here, I thought, is one of those whose joy-imparting
smiles are bestowed on all but me. And then I bent over her and
whispered, 'Awake, fairest, thy lover is near-he who would give
his life but to obtain one look of affection from thine eyes; my
beloved, awake!'

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