Narration Audition Beth Datria

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Description

An excerpt from Frankenstein by Mary Shelley

Vocal Characteristics

Language

English

Accents

North American (General)

Transcript

Note: Transcripts are generated using speech recognition software and may contain errors.
He was on a dreary night of November that I beheld the accomplishment of my toils with an anxiety that almost amounted to agony. I collected the instruments of life around me that I might infuse a spark of being into the lifeless thing that lay at my feet was already one in the morning. The rain patter did dismally against the pains, and my candle was nearly burnt out when, by the glimmer of the half extinguished light, I saw the dole yellow eye of the creature open. It breathed hard at convulsive motion, agitated its limbs. How can I describe my emotions of this catastrophe? Or how delineated the wretch, whom with such infinite pains and care I had endeavoured to form his limbs were in proportion, and I had selected his features is beautiful, beautiful, great God. His yellow skin scarcely covered the work of muscles and arteries beneath his hair was of a lustrous black and flowing his teeth of a pearly whiteness. But these luxuriant says, only formed a more horrid contrast with his watery eyes that seemed almost the same color as the done white sockets in which they were set. His shriveled complexion and straight black lips. His jaws opened and he muttered some inarticulate sounds while a grin wrinkled his cheeks. He might have spoken, but I did not hear. One hand was stretched out, seemingly to detain me, but I escaped and rushed downstairs. I took refuge in the courtyard belonging to the house, which inhabited where I remains 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 demonic, a corpse to which I had so miserably given life. Oh, no, Mortal could support the horror of that continents. A mummy again and dude with animation could not be so hideous. Is that wretch I gazed on him while unfinished. He was ugly then, But then those muscles and joints were rendered capable of motion. It became a thing such as even Dante would not have conceived. I passed the night wretchedly. Sometimes my pulse beat so quickly, and hardly that I felt the palpitation of every artery. At others. Ice nearly sank to the ground through Langer and extreme weakness