Once I falsely hoped to meet with beings, who, pardoning my outward form, would love me for the excellent qualities which I was capable of bringing forth. I was nourished with high thoughts of honour and devotion. But now vice has degraded me beneath the meanest animal. . . . the fallen angel becomes a malignant devil. . . . I am quite alone.
The Monster to explorer Robert Walton
Frankenstein; or, The Modern Prometheus, 1818
In the end, Dr. Frankestein dies trying to catch the monster, whom he is persecuting to kill. After its creator dies, the creature expresses remorse for his malignant misdeeds, the deaths of his creator’s friends. It travels toward the Pole to destroy himself on his own funeral pyre so that none would ever know of his existence.
It’s such a sad story!!