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Yazar: Mary Shelley

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How did I cling to their dear forms, as sometimes they haunted
even my waking hours, and persuade myself that they still lived!
At such moments vengeance, that burned within me, died in my
heart, and I pursued my path towards the destruction of the
daemon more as a task enjoined by heaven, as the mechanical
impulse of some power of which I was unconscious, than as the
ardent desire of my soul.
What his feelings were whom I pursued I cannot know. Sometimes,
indeed, he left marks in writing on the barks of the trees or cut
in stone that guided me and instigated my fury. "My reign is not
yet over"-these words were legible in one of these
inscriptions-"you live, and my power is complete. Follow me; I
seek the everlasting ices of the north, where you will feel the
misery of cold and frost, to which I am impassive. You will find
near this place, if you follow not too tardily, a dead hare; eat
and be refreshed. Come on, my enemy; we have yet to wrestle for
our lives, but many hard and miserable hours must you endure
until that period shall arrive."

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