It was about five in the morning when I entered my father’s house.  It was a house of mourning, and from that time I lived in daily fear lest the monster I had created should perpetrate some new wickedness.  I wished to see him again that I might avenge the death of William.

My wish was soon gratified.  I had wandered off alone up the valley of Chamounix, and was resting on the side of the mountain, when I beheld the figure of a man advancing towards me, over the crevices in the ice, with superhuman speed.  He approached:  his countenance bespoke bitter anguish—­it was the wretch whom I had created.

“Devil,” I exclaimed, “do you dare approach me?  Begone, vile insect!  Or, rather, stay, that I may trample you to dust!”

“I expected this reception,” said the monster.  “All men hate the wretched:  how, then, must I be hated, who am miserable beyond all living things.  You purpose to kill me.  Do your duty towards me and I will do mine towards you and the rest of mankind.  If you will comply with my conditions I will leave them and you at peace; but if you refuse, I will glut the maw of death with the blood of your remaining friends.”

My rage was without bounds, but he easily eluded me and said: 

“Have I not suffered enough, that you seek to increase my misery?  Remember that I am thy creature.  Everywhere I see bliss, from which I alone am excluded.  I was benevolent and good; misery made me a fiend.  I have assisted the labours of man, I have saved human beings from destruction, and I have been stoned and shot at as a recompense.  The feelings of kindness and gentleness have given place to rage.  Mankind spurns and hates me.  The desert mountains and dreary glaciers are my refuge, and the bleak sky is kinder to me than your fellow-beings.  Shall I not hate them who abhor me?  Listen to me, Frankenstein.  I have wandered through these mountains consumed by a burning passion which you alone can gratify.  You must create a female for me with whom I can live.  I am alone and miserable; man will not associate with me; but one as deformed and horrible as myself would not deny herself to me.

“What I ask of you is reasonable and moderate.  It is true, we shall be monstrous, cut off from all the world:  but on that account we shall be more attached to one another.  Our lives will not be happy, but they will be harmless, and free from the misery I now feel.  If you consent, neither you nor any other human being shall ever see us again:  I will go to the vast wilds of South America.  We shall make our bed of dried leaves; the sun will shine on us as on man, and will ripen our foods.  My evil passion will have fled, for I shall meet with sympathy.  My life will flow quietly away, and in my dying moments I shall not curse my maker.”

His words had a strange effect on me.  I compassionated him, and concluded that the justest view both to him and my fellow-creatures demanded of me that I should comply with his request.