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THE stars still shone brightly when I awoke, and
Taurus high in the southern heaven shewed that it was midnight. I awoke from
disturbed dreams. Methought I had been invited to Timon's last feast;
The position of the stars was my only guide. I turned from the awful ruin of
the Golden City, and, after great exertion, succeeded in extricating myself
from its enclosure. I met a company of soldiers outside the walls; I
borrowed a horse from one of them, and hastened to my sister. The appearance
of the plain was changed during this short interval; the encampment was
broken up; the relics of the disbanded army met in small companies here and
there; each face was
With an heavy heart I entered the palace, and stood fearful to advance, to
speak, to look. In the midst of the hall was Perdita; she sat on the marble
pavement, her head fallen on her bosom, her hair dishevelled, her fingers
twined busily one within the other; she was pale as marble, and every
feature was contracted by agony. She perceived me, and looked up
enquiringly; her half glance of hope was misery; the words died before I
could articulate them; I felt a ghastly smile wrinkle my lips. She
understood my gesture; again her head fell; again her fingers worked
restlessly. At last I recovered speech, but my voice terrified her; the
hapless girl had understood my look, and for worlds she would not that the
tale of her heavy misery should have been shaped out and confirmed by hard,
irrevocable words. Nay, she seemed to wish to distract my thoughts from the
subject: she rose from the floor: "Hush!" she said, whisperingly;
"O, fear not," she continued, "fear not that I should entertain hope! Yet
tell me, have you found him? To have him once more in my arms, to see him,
however changed, is all I desire. Though Constantinople
At first these agonizing plaints filled me with
"Alas, for us," I cried, "who have lost this latest honour of the world!
Beloved Raymond! As McWhir points out (p. 160n), William Godwin's 1809
"What a noble creature was Raymond, the first among the men of our time. By
the grandeur of his conceptions, the graceful daring of his actions, by his
wit and beauty, he won and ruled the minds of all. Of one only fault he
might have been accused; but his death has cancelled that. I have heard him
called inconstant of purpose--when he deserted, for the sake
I saw the features of Perdita soften; the sternness of grief yielded to
tenderness--I continued:--"Thus to honour him, is the sacred duty of his
survivors. To make his name even as an holy spot of ground, enclosing it
from all hostile attacks by our praise, shedding on it the
I could perceive that, when I recalled my
After a short repose I prepared to leave her, that I might endeavour to
accomplish her wish. In the mean time we were joined by Clara, whose pallid
cheek and scared look shewed the deep impression grief had made on her young
mind. She seemed to be full of something to which she could not give words;
but, seizing an opportunity afforded by Perdita's absence, she preferred to
me an earnest prayer, that I would take her within view of the gate at which
her father had
It is impossible to conjecture the strange enchainment of events which
restored the lifeless form of my friend to our hands. In that part of the
town where the fire had most raged the night before, and which now lay
quenched, black and cold, the dying dog of Raymond crouched beside the
mutilated form of its lord. At such a time sorrow has no voice; affliction,
tamed by
Such as he had now become, such as was his terrene vesture, defaced and spoiled, we wrapt it in our cloaks, and lifting the burthen in our arms, bore it from this city of the dead. The question arose as to where we should deposit him. In our road to the palace, we passed through the Greek cemetery; here on a tablet of black marble I caused him to be laid; the cypresses waved high above, their death-like gloom accorded with his state of nothingness. We cut branches of the funereal trees and placed them over him, and on these again his sword. I left a guard to protect this treasure of dust; and ordered perpetual torches to be burned around.
When I returned to Perdita, I found that she had already been informed of the
success of my undertaking. He, her beloved, the sole and eternal object of
her passionate tenderness, was restored her. Such was the maniac language
Pale as marble, clear and beaming as that, she heard my tale, and enquired
concerning the spot where he had been deposited. Her features had lost the
distortion of grief; her eyes were brightened, her very person seemed
dilated; while the excessive whiteness and even transparency of her skin,
and something hollow in
My own desire certainly was that he should not be removed from the spot where he now lay. But her wish was of course to be complied with; and I entreated her to prepare without delay for our departure.
Behold now the melancholy train cross the flats of Thrace, and wind through
the defiles, and over the mountains of Macedonia, coast the clear waves of
the Peneus, cross the Larissean plain, pass the straits of Thermopylae, and
ascending in succession Oeta
We descended from Parnassus, emerging from its many folds, and passed through
Livadia on our road to Attica. Perdita would not enter Athens; but reposing
at Marathon on the night of our arrival, conducted me on the following day,
to the spot selected by her as the treasure house of Raymond's dear remains.
It was in a recess near the head of the ravine to the south of Hymettus. The
chasm, deep,
Every thing was accomplished with speed under my directions. I agreed to
leave the finishing and guardianship of the tomb to the
"Did I not do right," said Perdita, "in having my loved one conveyed hither?
Hereafter this will be the cynosure of Greece. In such a spot death loses
half its terrors, and even the inanimate dust appears to partake of the
spirit of beauty which hallows this region. Lionel, he sleeps there; that is
the grave of Raymond, he whom in my youth I first loved; whom my heart
accompanied in days of separation and anger; to whom I am now joined for
ever. Never--mark me--never will I leave this spot. Methinks his spirit
remains here as well as that dust, which, uncommunicable though it be, is
more precious in its nothingness than aught else widowed earth clasps to her
sorrowing
"Go you to England, Lionel; return to sweet Idris and dearest Adrian; return, and let my orphan girl be as a child of your own in your house. Look on me as dead; and truly if death be a mere change of state, I am dead. This is another world, from that which late I inhabited, from that which is now your home. Here I hold communion only with the has been, and to come. Go you to England, and leave me where alone I can consent to drag out the miserable days which I must still live."
A shower of tears terminated her sad harangue. I had expected some
extravagant proposition, and remained silent awhile, collecting my thoughts
that I might the better combat
"I expected this," cried Perdita; "I supposed that you would treat me as a mad, foolish girl. But do not deceive yourself; this cottage is built by my order; and here I shall remain, until the hour arrives when I may share his happier dwelling."
"My dearest girl!"
"And what is there so strange in my design? I might have deceived you; I
might have talked of remaining here only a few months; in your anxiety to
reach Windsor you would have left me, and without reproach or contention, I
might have pursued my plan. But I disdained the artifice; or rather in my
wretchedness it was my only consolation to pour out my heart to you,
"You clothe your meaning, Perdita," I replied, "in powerful words, yet that
meaning is selfish and unworthy of you. You have often agreed with me that
there is but one solution to the intricate riddle of life; to improve
ourselves, and contribute to the happiness of others: and now, in the very
prime of life, you desert your principles, and shut yourself up in useless
solitude.
Perdita shook her head; "If it could be so," she replied, "I were much in the
wrong to disdain your offers. But it is not a matter of choice; I can live
here only. I am a part of this scene; each and all its properties are a part
of me. This is no sudden fancy; I live by it. The knowledge that I am here,
rises with me in the morning, and enables me to endure the
"So much, my dearest Lionel, I have said, wishing to persuade you that I do
right. If you are unconvinced, I can add nothing further by way of argument,
and I can only declare my fixed resolve. I stay here; force only can remove
me. Be it so; drag me away--I return; confine me, imprison me, still I
escape, and come here. Or would my brother rather devote the heart-broken
Perdita to the straw and chains of
All this appeared to me, I own, methodized madness. I imagined, that it was my imperative duty to take her from scenes that thus forcibly reminded her of her loss. Nor did I doubt, that in the tranquillity of our family circle at Windsor, she would recover some degree of composure, and in the end, of happiness. My affection for Clara also led me to oppose these fond dreams of cherished grief; her sensibility had already been too much excited; her infant heedlessness too soon exchanged for deep and anxious thought. The strange and romantic scheme of her mother, might confirm and perpetuate the painful view of life, which had intruded itself thus early on her contemplation.
On returning home, the captain of the steam packet with whom I had agreed to
sail, came to tell me, that accidental circumstances hastened his departure,
and that, if I went with him, I
I sat with Perdita and soothed her, by my seeming assent to her wild scheme.
She received my concurrence with pleasure, and a thousand times over thanked
her deceiving, deceitful brother. As night came on, her spirits, enlivened
by my unexpected concession, regained an almost forgotten vivacity. I
pretended to be alarmed by the feverish glow in her cheek; I entreated her
to take a composing draught; I poured out the medicine, which she took
docilely from me. I watched her as she drank
It was late in the day before Perdita awoke, and a longer time elapsed before
recovering from the torpor occasioned by the laudanum, she perceived her
change of situation. She started wildly from her couch, and flew to the
cabin window. The blue and troubled sea sped past the vessel, and was spread
shoreless around: the sky was covered by a rack, which in its swift motion
shewed how speedily she was borne away. The creaking of the masts, the clang
of the wheels, the tramp
The attendant whom I had stationed to watch her, replied, "to England."--
"And my brother?"--
"Is on deck, Madam."
"Unkind! unkind!" exclaimed the poor victim, as with a deep sigh she looked on the waste of waters. Then without further remark, she threw herself on her couch, and closing her eyes remained motionless; so that but for the deep sighs that burst from her, it would have seemed that she slept.
As soon as I heard that she had spoken, I sent Clara to her, that the sight
of the lovely innocent might inspire gentle and affectionate thoughts. But
neither the presence of her child, nor a subsequent visit from me, could
rouse my sister. She looked on Clara with a countenance of woful meaning,
but she did not speak. When I appeared, she turned away, and in re-
When night came on, she begged that Clara might sleep in a separate cabin. Her servant, however, remained with her. About midnight she spoke to the latter, saying that she had had a bad dream, and bade her go to her daughter, and bring word whether she rested quietly. The woman obeyed.
The breeze, that had flagged since sunset, now rose again. I was on deck,
enjoying our swift progress. The quiet was disturbed only by the rush of
waters as they divided before the steady keel, the murmur of the moveless
and full sails, the wind whistling in the shrouds, and the regular motion of
the engine. The sea was gently agitated, now shewing a white crest, and now
resuming an uniform hue; the clouds
Suddenly I heard a splash in the sea. The sailors on watch rushed to the side of the vessel, with the cry--some one gone overboard. "It is not from deck," said the man at the helm, "something has been thrown from the aft cabin." A call for the boat to be lowered was echoed from the deck. I rushed into my sister's cabin; it was empty.
With sails abaft, the engine stopt, the vessel remained unwillingly
stationary, until, after an hour's search, my poor Perdita was brought on
board. But no care could re-animate her, no medicine cause her dear eyes to
open, and the blood to flow again from her pulseless heart. One clenched
hand contained a slip of paper, on which was written, "To Athens." To ensure
her removal thither, and prevent the irrecoverable loss of her body in the
wide sea, she had
Stress of weather drove us up the Adriatic Gulph; and, our vessel being hardly fitted to weather a storm, we took refuge in the port of Ancona. Here I met Georgio Palli, the vice-admiral of the Greek fleet, a former friend and warm partizan of Raymond. I committed the remains of my lost Perdita to his care, for the purpose of having them transported to Hymettus, and placed in the cell her Raymond already occupied beneath the pyramid. This was all accomplished even as I wished. She reposed beside her beloved, and the tomb above was inscribed with the united names of Raymond and Perdita.
I then came to a resolution of pursuing our journey to England overland. My
own heart was racked by regrets and remorse. The apprehension, that Raymond
had departed for ever, that his name, blended eternally with the past, must
be erased from every anticipation of the future, had come slowly upon me. I
had al-
One of my first acts for the recovery even of my own composure, was to bid
farewell to the sea. Its hateful splash renewed again and again to my sense
the death of my sister; its roar was a dirge; in every dark hull that was
tossed on its inconstant bosom, I imaged a bier, that would convey to death
all who trusted to its treacherous smiles. Farewell to the sea! Come, my
Clara, sit beside me in this aerial bark; quickly and gently it cleaves the
azure serene, and with soft undulation glides upon the current of the air;
or, if storm shake its fragile mechanism, the green earth is below; we can
descend, and take shelter on the stable continent. Here aloft, the
companions of the swift-winged birds, we skim through the unresisting
element, fleetly and fearlessly. The light boat heaves not, nor is opposed
by death-bearing waves;
A strange story was rife here. A few days before, a tempest-struck vessel had
appeared off the town: the hull was parched-looking and "The plague" refers to an acute virulent disease, usually
one reaching or threatening to reach epidemic proportions, and
historically one caused by a bacterium. The medieval Black Death set
much of the tone and metaphorical conventions still operating in
many modern-era descriptions of plagues.
The history of nineteenth-century epidemics, and their construction as "the plague," reveals telling narrative and figurative patterns, all of them relevant to reading this novel (with its fabric of interwoven political, military, social, sexual, and medical narratives). As the histories are explained by Ranger and Slack (pp. 3-4),
Flight from an infected place was usual, and had to be defended (or attacked) since it took people away from charitable, neighbourly or political duties. Carriers of disease were identified and scapegoats stigmatised: foreigners most often, as in Renaissance Italy and modern Hawaii, since epidemic disease came from outside, but also inferiors, carriers of pollution of several kinds, among whom disease had its local roots--untouchables in India and ex-slaves in Africa, for example, or Jews at the time of the Black Death (though less commonly in Europe in later outbreaks of plague). For their part, the inferiors themselves thought epidemics the consequence of plots by external enemies, or governors and elites, to 'poison' the poor. (p. 4)
In our own moment at the end of the twentieth century, as Susan Sontag has suggested, the very idea of "virus" itself (rather than any actual bacterial infection) has become the metaphorical equivalent of "plague." Today a "virus" can infect computers and cultures (where it takes the form of a "meme") as well as individuals (p. 157). The very real plague of our time is AIDS, a syndrome that has most often been figured (at least until very recently) as a potential pandemic threatening a mass population.
The comparison of Mary Shelley's fictional depiction of a world-wide apocalyptic plague to the actual plague of AIDS has been the subject of works by critics such as Audrey Fisch, Mary Jacobus, Anne K. Mellor, and Barbara Johnson.
No one ventured on board the vessel, and strange sights were averred to be seen at night, walking the deck, and hanging on the masts and shrouds. She soon went to pieces; I was shewn where she had been, and saw her disjoined timbers tossed on the waves. The body of the man who had landed, had been