p 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 comp