The Vampyre; a Tale

Home > Literature > The Vampyre; a Tale > Page 4
The Vampyre; a Tale Page 4

by John William Polidori


  This monstrous rodomontade is here related, because it seems betteradapted to illustrate the subject of the present observations than anyother instance which could be adduced. In many parts of Greece it isconsidered as a sort of punishment after death, for some heinous crimecommitted whilst in existence, that the deceased is not only doomed tovampyrise, but compelled to confine his infernal visitations solely tothose beings he loved most while upon earth--those to whom he was boundby ties of kindred and affection.--A supposition alluded to in the"Giaour."

  But first on earth, as Vampyre sent, Thy corse shall from its tomb be rent; Then ghastly haunt the native place, And suck the blood of all thy race; There from thy daughter, sister, wife, At midnight drain the stream of life; Yet loathe the banquet which perforce Must feed thy livid living corse, Thy victims, ere they yet expire, Shall know the demon for their sire; As cursing thee, thou cursing them, Thy flowers are withered on the stem. But one that for thy crime must fall, The youngest, best beloved of all, Shall bless thee with a father's name-- That word shall wrap thy heart in flame! Yet thou must end thy task and mark Her cheek's last tinge--her eye's last spark, And the last glassy glance must view Which freezes o'er its lifeless blue; Then with unhallowed hand shall tear The tresses of her yellow hair, Of which, in life a lock when shorn Affection's fondest pledge was worn-- But now is borne away by thee Memorial of thine agony! Yet with thine own best blood shall drip; Thy gnashing tooth, and haggard lip; Then stalking to thy sullen grave, Go--and with Gouls and Afrits rave, Till these in horror shrink away From spectre more accursed than they.

  Mr. Southey has also introduced in his wild but beautiful poem of"Thalaba," the vampyre corse of the Arabian maid Oneiza, who isrepresented as having returned from the grave for the purpose oftormenting him she best loved whilst in existence. But this cannot besupposed to have resulted from the sinfulness of her life, she beingpourtrayed throughout the whole of the tale as a complete type ofpurity and innocence. The veracious Tournefort gives a long account inhis travels of several astonishing cases of vampyrism, to which hepretends to have been an eyewitness; and Calmet, in his great workupon this subject, besides a variety of anecdotes, and traditionarynarratives illustrative of its effects, has put forth some learneddissertations, tending to prove it to be a classical, as well asbarbarian error.

  Many curious and interesting notices on this singularly horriblesuperstition might be added; though the present may suffice for thelimits of a note, necessarily devoted to explanation, and which maynow be concluded by merely remarking, that though the term Vampyre isthe one in most general acceptation, there are several otherssynonymous with it, made use of in various parts of the world: asVroucolocha, Vardoulacha, Goul, Broucoloka, &c.

  ________________________________________________________________

  THE VAMPYRE. __________

  IT happened that in the midst of the dissipations attendant upon aLondon winter, there appeared at the various parties of the leaders ofthe ton a nobleman, more remarkable for his singularities, than hisrank. He gazed upon the mirth around him, as if he could notparticipate therein. Apparently, the light laughter of the fair onlyattracted his attention, that he might by a look quell it, and throwfear into those breasts where thoughtlessness reigned. Those who feltthis sensation of awe, could not explain whence it arose: someattributed it to the dead grey eye, which, fixing upon the object'sface, did not seem to penetrate, and at one glance to pierce throughto the inward workings of the heart; but fell upon the cheek with aleaden ray that weighed upon the skin it could not pass. Hispeculiarities caused him to be invited to every house; all wished tosee him, and those who had been accustomed to violent excitement, andnow felt the weight of ennui, were pleased at having something intheir presence capable of engaging their attention. In spite of thedeadly hue of his face, which never gained a warmer tint, either fromthe blush of modesty, or from the strong emotion of passion, thoughits form and outline were beautiful, many of the female hunters afternotoriety attempted to win his attentions, and gain, at least, somemarks of what they might term affection: Lady Mercer, who had been themockery of every monster shewn in drawing-rooms since her marriage,threw herself in his way, and did all but put on the dress of amountebank, to attract his notice:--though in vain:--when shestood before him, though his eyes were apparently fixed upon her's,still it seemed as if they were unperceived;--even her unappalledimpudence was baffled, and she left the field. But though the commonadultress could not influence even the guidance of his eyes, it wasnot that the female sex was indifferent to him: yet such was theapparent caution with which he spoke to the virtuous wife and innocentdaughter, that few knew he ever addressed himself to females. He had,however, the reputation of a winning tongue; and whether it was thatit even overcame the dread of his singular character, or that theywere moved by his apparent hatred of vice, he was as often among thosefemales who form the boast of their sex from their domestic virtues,as among those who sully it by their vices.

  About the same time, there came to London a young gentleman of thename of Aubrey: he was an orphan left with an only sister in thepossession of great wealth, by parents who died while he was yet inchildhood. Left also to himself by guardians, who thought it theirduty merely to take care of his fortune, while they relinquished themore important charge of his mind to the care of mercenary subalterns,he cultivated more his imagination than his judgment. He had, hence,that high romantic feeling of honour and candour, which daily ruins somany milliners' apprentices. He believed all to sympathise withvirtue, and thought that vice was thrown in by Providence merely forthe picturesque effect of the scene, as we see in romances: he thoughtthat the misery of a cottage merely consisted in the vesting ofclothes, which were as warm, but which were better adapted to thepainter's eye by their irregular folds and various coloured patches.He thought, in fine, that the dreams of poets were the realities oflife. He was handsome, frank, and rich: for these reasons, upon hisentering into the gay circles, many mothers surrounded him, strivingwhich should describe with least truth their languishing or rompingfavourites: the daughters at the same time, by their brighteningcountenances when he approached, and by their sparkling eyes, when heopened his lips, soon led him into false notions of his talents andhis merit. Attached as he was to the romance of his solitary hours,he was startled at finding, that, except in the tallow and wax candlesthat flickered, not from the presence of a ghost, but from want ofsnuffing, there was no foundation in real life for any of thatcongeries of pleasing pictures and descriptions contained in thosevolumes, from which he had formed his study. Finding, however, somecompensation in his gratified vanity, he was about to relinquish hisdreams, when the extraordinary being we have above described, crossedhim in his career.

  He watched him; and the very impossibility of forming an idea of thecharacter of a man entirely absorbed in himself, who gave few othersigns of his observation of external objects, than the tacit assent totheir existence, implied by the avoidance of their contact: allowinghis imagination to picture every thing that flattered its propensityto extravagant ideas, he soon formed this object into the hero of aromance, and determined to observe the offspring of his fancy, ratherthan the person before him. He became acquainted with him, paid himattentions, and so far advanced upon his notice, that his presence wasalways recognised. He gradually learnt that Lord Ruthven's affairswere embarrassed, and soon found, from the notes of preparation in---- Street, that he was about to travel. Desirous of gaining someinformation respecting this singular character, who, till now, hadonly whetted his curiosity, he hinted to his guardians, that it wastime for him to perform the tour, which for many generations has beenthought necessary to enable the young to take some rapid steps in thecareer of vice towards putting themselves upon an equality with theaged, and not allowing them to appear as if fallen from the skies,whenever scandalous intrigues are mentioned as the subjects ofpleasantry or of praise, according to the d
egree of skill shewn incarrying them on. They consented: and Aubrey immediately mentioninghis intentions to Lord Ruthven, was surprised to receive from him aproposal to join him. Flattered by such a mark of esteem from him,who, apparently, had nothing in common with other men, he gladlyaccepted it, and in a few days they had passed the circling waters.

  Hitherto, Aubrey had had no opportunity of studying Lord Ruthven'scharacter, and now he found, that, though many more of his actionswere exposed to his view, the results offered different conclusionsfrom the apparent motives to his conduct. His companion was profusein his liberality;--the idle, the vagabond, and the beggar, receivedfrom his hand more than enough to relieve their immediate wants. ButAubrey could not avoid remarking, that it was not upon the virtuous,reduced to indigence by the misfortunes attendant even upon virtue,that he bestowed his alms;--these were sent from the door withhardly suppressed

‹ Prev