[Man] I had a dream which was not at all a dream,
The bright sun was extinguished...
and the stars did wander darkling in the eternal space...
rayless and pathless.
And the icy earth swung blind and blackening in the moonless air,
Morn came and went...
and came and brought no day
[Woman Narrating] I am alone,
Just as in the pages of my book, I have come to the icy limits of the universe...
to meet the horrible creature that my imagination conceived.
Where there are no shadows, no monsters can exist,
Only the memory will live on...
within the limits of the imagination.
[Knocking]
[Man] Madam, we are going home.
[Woman Narrating] Such strange memories--
Shelley, Byron, Claire.
Imagination and life are confused...
as waters of the same lake--
Our lake where together we rowed.
Would you care for a cup of tea, Mr. Shelley?
Thank you so much, Mrs. Godwin, but no.
Mr, Godwin.
I would like you to consider this money as further proof of the admiration I feel for you.
I desire most earnestly that it should be of use to you...
in confronting the problems you face in your admirable publishing endeavors.
It is also my wish to inform you, sir...
that I propose your daughter Mary should come to live with me, if you have no objection.
But Mr. Shelley, you are already married.
I do not speak of marriage, sir, but rather of love.
I am astounded at your effrontery, Mr. Shelley.
Above all, at such an inopportune moment...
when I just have received some financial assistance from you...
which I believed to be quite disinterested.
It might help, sir. Inadequate though it may be, it's far from disinterested,
Indeed, it is of the greatest interest to me that your work should flourish...
despite all difficulties.
And that is, believe me, the only interest which moves me to give you this money...
which I have been able to amass.
Do not stoop the vulgarity of mentioning money, sir.
We are speaking of a marriage.
Your marriage, Mr. Shelley...
that in England makes any other form of cohabitation with a respectable woman...
like my daughter Mary quite out of the question.
Respectability, Mr. Godwin?
I would never have expected a man like yourself...
a man's whose life and work have been and are devoted to freedom...
from the hypocritical conventions of English society...
to have found anything dishonorable in my proposal.
And, uh, what does your equally honorable wife...
say to your honorable proposal, Mr. Shelley?
Has she given her consent?
No. She is opposed to it.
Well...
there you have the answer to your honorable proposition.
I warn you, Mr. Godwin-- [Whispering] He has a pistol in his hand.
Mary, Fanny, Claire! and they're in the strictest accordance...
with the assumptions of your own values!
And I further warn you, sir, that this is a game in which we are playing for my life.
I trust, Mr. Shelley...
that you are not going to be unworthy enough as to commit suicide in my house.
"How wonderful is Death...
Death and his brother Sleep."
You also find my book of poems unworthy?
No,
But they are only poems.
Look, Claire.
Now Shelley's telling Mary that he loves her more than his own life,
No, Fanny. Shelley would value his life very lightly to say that.
I think he's telling her that she's the sole object of his thoughts.
That's what you told Lord Byron in one of your letters to him before you met.
You sure? I don't remember that,
Look, Fanny. Now Mary's telling Shelley that she's not worthy of his love.
That, too, is what you told to Lord Byron.
But it's not true. You are more than worthy of his love.
And he's a degenerate, why, even though he may be the finest poet in all England.
That's why he had to go abroad.
A poet may have every vice known to man, Fanny.
Well, Shelley's a poet, too, and he's not like that,
Shelley's not of this world. Come on.
Shelley and I have decided to leave England. We leave at dawn tomorrow,
Wonderful! I shall go with you.
Yes. Yes, you shall come with us, Claire.
I don't know if we ought to leave old Mr. Godwin so alone.
[Sighs] I shall stay with him.
I have an idea. Why do we not go to Geneva and see Mont Blanc...
row on the lake and come to know the landscape that inspired Rousseau?
I know the landscape that you mean, Claire.
It is called Lord Byron.
[Shelley] Hurry, Claire.
It would have been better to have hired a sled instead of this pay cart.
[Mary] Tomorrow on the lake we shall hire a boat,
Then you'll be happy.
[Man Speaking in French]
I'm sorry, Mr. Shelley. Lord Byron is rowing.
Did you not row in the regattas at Edinburgh, Polidori? Now push.
[Man Shouting In French]
Mr. Percy Bysshe Shelley.
You'll pay through the Bank of London, Well, that certainly smells typically English to me.
You should know, my good man...
that you are speaking to the poet Lord Byron...
and I am john William Polidori, his doctor and private secretary.
I am a poet, too, and I speak 12 languages...
all of them badly.
[Speaking In French]
Polidori, that man treated you exactly as he treated me.
After all, what can you do, my Lord Byron, that I cannot?
Well, if you press me, Polidori, I shall have no alternative but to tell you.
Then tell me, my Lord.
There are three things I can do that you cannot: What are they?
Swim across the river...
extinguish a candle with a single shot at 20 paces--
And the third?
How useless everything is, Polidori.
Why cross a river? Why extinguish a candle?
What is the third thing, my Lord?
Write a poem that sold 14,000 copies in a single day.
My Lord, in your absence, a gentleman and two ladies have been asking for you.
Stinking English, I suppose? Your Lordship supposes correctly.
I further suppose you will have told them Lord Byron receives no English people?
I did indeed, my Lord. Well, well done, Fletcher.
They left this, um, note for your Lordship.
I suppose it is from Mr. Percy Bysshe Shelley. You know him, my Lord?
I do not know him, nor do I wish to. One moment, gentlemen.
Something quite inconceivable has happened, I am deeply ashamed.
I imagine I should consider myself dismissed. You are dismissed, Fletcher...
but first, do tell me precisely why.
One-- [Clears Throat]
One of the ladies who accompanies Mr, Percy Bysshe Shelley has entered the house.
I was powerless to prevent her.
I consider myself dismissed.
Oh, you are dismissed, Fletcher. You are dismissed.
But I imagine that you did your duty and that the lady who went into the door...
went out through the window?
I have looked all over the house without being able to locate the intruder,
I most certainly consider myself dismissed. You most certainly are.
How much do I owe you?
I'm not quite sure, my Lord.
I cannot recall the last time your Lordship was, um, kind enough to pay me.
Hmm. Well, let's not be mean about this.
You may stay. I forgive you. Thank you, my Lord.
I have recommended you to the impresarios of all the best theaters in London,
What more could you want from me?
I warned you, Miss Clairmont, that I did not wish to see you again.
I thought you merely wished to become an actress,
I'm going to have your child, my Lord.
Out!
Out,
Come here,
So you no longer wish to become an actress?
Only for you.
[Unbuttoning Shirt]
Not my boots, ever.
Deep down in the lake...
there is slime and weed.
But when you look at the surface, you see only your own expression.
That is exactly how you are, Claire.
I do not wish you to tell Mary or Shelley that I'm going to have your child.
Do not concern yourself. I shall never meet them.
Percy Bysshe Shelley, atheist and democrat.
George Gordon, Lord Byron. I'm 100 years old.
But I thought that you were 200 considering how long it's taken us to find you.
Do not concern yourself, my Lord, In another 100 years, we shall all be the same age.
Mary Godwin, my sister. How do you do, Mary?
A poet's age is measured not by his years, but by his verses.
Ah, well, there I have the genuine opinion not only of a medical doctor...
but of a poet, too, whose age to judge by his verse is that of a babe in arms, hmm.
Mr. Polidori who is not only a doctor and a playwright...
but also my personal secretary.
We are very sorry to have taken your boat without permission, Mr. Percy Bysshe Shelley.
Oh, no, it is an honor. Besides, I gather the Bank of London will pay
[All Chuckling] [Thunder Rumbling]
Do not distress yourselves about the weather,
Tonight we shall go for a row on the lake, hmm?
[Thunderclap]
I shall sing you an Albanian song.
So, if you please, be silent and give me your attention.
It is a unique old song from the mountains of Albania,
Sing with me.
[Screaming]
[Screaming Stops]
[Byron] What you see here is made from the genuine bones,..
of a genuine soldier in the greatest army the world's ever known,
Tell them, Poli. Oh, yes.
We found the bones on the battlefield of Waterloo,
It took only one day to end the glory of the most beautiful of human lives...
that of Napoleon.
Well, actually -- actually, we didn't find the bones.
It was a beggar who sold them to us.
Action is as useless as glory.
Win or lose, this world is worthless.
And our only wisdom is woven with threads of disdain,
?[Classical Piano] Do play, Mr. Shelley.
For hearts that beat with life reposes hell.
I detest armies, my Lord! They embody everything that is ugly and artificial.
Armies are like... judges.
Or marriage.
They are evil itself.
Evil, Mr. Percy Bysshe Shelley...
exists in its own right.
It is called sin,
I cannot imagine Lord Byron repenting of his sins.
Well, you are wrong, Mary.
I repent of all those sins which I have not yet been able to commit.
?[Stops] We're going to have a storm again.
[Thunderclap]
[Rustling]
Do you know I cannot speak to you when I see you?
I'm so overcome I can think only of the moment...
when I'm in your arms and I can forget that I exist.
Well, go to your room and throw your arms around your pillow and forget that I exist.
Where on earth are you going, Claire? Listen!
"We're the last people in this world who should or could stop loving each other.
"I shall never find anyone like you and you shall never find anyone like me.
"We are made to spend our lives together.
My voice and heart are ever yours."
Byron wrote that to you?
No,
It's a letter to his sister.
Miss Clairmont,
Your shoe,
[Sighs]
How calm the lake is tonight, Mr. Shelley.
By the by, do you know how to sail?
Yes. Oh, really?
Then you should know, Mr. Shelley, that there are three things I can do that you cannot:
Find a woman's shoe in the dead of night...
detect the susceptibility to consumption...
in the face of an opium smoker...
and win a sailing competition.
He does not swim? No, but he can fly.
He is an angel who beats his wings in the void,
Well, no, he is not an angel. He is a serpent.
Congratulations, Mr. Shelley, a remarkable race,
Well, it was none of my doing. There was a change in the wind.
May I point out that what Mr. Shelley calls the wind...
at Edinburgh we called quite simply cheating.
I would go further and observe that Mr. Shelley's behavior...
was scarcely that of a gentleman.
I-- I am left with no alternative...
but to challenge Mr. Shelley to a duel...
if he has the slightest interest in defending his honor.
Take care, Polidori, for although Mr, Shelley may have scruples about fighting a duel...
I have not and shall always be ready to take his place.
Do not be concerned, Mary.
Polidori is skilled with neither pistol nor sword.
He is master of only one weapon-- poison.
[Barking] [Drunken Ramblings]
[Both Barking]
[Growling]
[Gasps]
[Moans]
[Barking Continues]
"The rivers...
lakes and ocean--"
"The rivers, lakes and ocean.
The tides were in their grave."
"Were in their grave.
?[Piano] "The moon, their mistress...
"had expired before.
"The winds were withered...
in the stagnant air--"
Why are you limping, Polidori?
I have twisted my ankle, my Lord.
Well, congratulations. At last you've managed to be like me.
Although, in precisely the way I would least like to be like Lord Byron.
Vanity leads men to imitate other men, and poetry to imitate itself.
Do you know what the finest poem would be?
It would be the poem that gave life to matter...
by force of imagination alone.
It would be horrible. Do you know that the best our scientists can do--
[Chuckles] is to make a dead worm wriggle in a glass jar.
And what does our doctor think about all this?
That the imagination only creates things that are dead...
although they may sometimes be beautiful,
And that science only discovers new ways of killing.
Good heavens, my Lord. Where did you find your bedside doctor?
Queen of England recommended him to me. My dramatic works...
had a certain curative effect on her...
but my medical prescriptions made her vomit.
[Laughing]
My Lord, someone has poisoned the dog.
Let's go and see him.
I'll probably be able to do something even now
Look how he runs when it comes to a dying dog.
What are you thinking about, Mary? About Byron and his poem--
the one nobody has written yet.
Where the imagination could give life to matter, making it into a living poem...
or just as fire can revive dead wood.
How obstinate they are. Why do men try to create life out of death..,
when women are perfectly well that life can create life?
Love is sufficient for what you speak of, but in order to live, life is not enough.
It is for me when I'm with him,
And when you are not with him you have no alternative but to write him letters,
He writes to somebody else. Byron only writes to himself.
To his sister. Do you know what he says to her about me?
That he never loved me, but that a man is a man...
and that if a young girl offers herself over and over again, there is sure to be one outcome,
And in spite of this, you still go on loving him?
Yes.
Listen to me, Fletcher.
I want for you to arrange for a marble tombstone...
with the following inscription.
Take this down, please, Polidori. Of course, my Lord.
Here lie the remains of a creature who possessed beauty without vanity...
strength without insolence...
courage without ferocity...
and all the virtues of man with none of his vices.
Make sure it is the best stone, Fletcher-- the best,
Later we shall build a mausoleum,
And I should like to rest here,
But if you should die before I do, Fletcher...
this honor shall fall to you.
Thank you, my Lord.
If I were certain that your Lordship would also end his days here...
I would not mind at all.
But I would not like to be here alone...
with the dog.
No, You are not going to treat me to one of your sarcastic little speeches.
I've had enough of words. If you need to amuse yourself with me, then do so.
If not, throw me out.
Then go.
No, stay,
I loved that dog so much.
He was a fine guard and a loyal friend.
He wanted nothing to do with other dogs or men, He belonged only to me.
So do I,
I cannot fathom out why that fool Fletcher should not wish to be buried there,
Where? With the dog, He will have a magnificent tomb.
Would you have liked that? What?
To be buried with him? With Fletcher?
No, the dog.
It would have made no difference to me,
Hmm.
Do you not think that Polidori poisoned him?
I do not think for a moment that Polidori would be capable of such a thing.
No?
Get undressed now.
Mary likes you very much. She says that you're sweet and gentle.
If she were in my position, you'd have to show her more consideration than you show me.
I ask no more of women than they should have enough intelligence to be able to admire me,
But not so much that they should claim to be admired in return.
Mary thinks that you hate her.
One day she and I shall publish something together.
May I tell her what you've just said? I'm sure she'll be very proud.
I shall tell her myself.
Tomorrow is Shelley's birthday. Remind me,
[Laughing]
It's going.
Happy birthday, Shelley.
Come on. Open it,
[Opening Scope]
Those things are full of stars and you never know if you are looking at them or them at you.
[Shudders]
[Panting]
Shelley, come down to earth, man!
Mary,
Leave him to me, I know how to treat him,
As old Coleridge says, "A sight to dream of, not to tell."
[Animal Gurgling]
All right, Shelley. It's all right.
Calm down. The mind can sometimes play tricks on us.
It was just a nightmare. But I'm awake!
We are never awake, Mr. Shelley.
As a poet, you know that better than I.
I'm confused and tired, Mr. Polidori.
I'm not rich, I have debts.
Godwin wants nothing to do with me, but he always needs more money.
He no longer asks, he demands.
He has no interest in me or-or Mary or Claire, only in my checks.
And my friends look upon me as a banker too, And what is more, they-- they-- they--
they all want Mary.
I know it. I know that's what they're after.
It is not advisable to take too much,
I hate violence, Mr. Polidori. You know that.
A long time ago in London I was challenged to a duel and did not accept.
Then I was punched. Did not reply, and then I was struck again.
As if life did not offer enough obstacles, sometimes we even fall over ourselves,
Happy birthday, Mr. Shelley.
Yesterday I said something to Claire which I would like to say to you personally.
I know, Claire told me.
But I would not mind hearing it again.
I merely wished to say how much I like you, Mary, and Shelley.
I was just saying to Mr. Shelley...
that it would be a good idea to read horror stories during the evenings.
Shelley.
Fiction is by far the best vaccine against reality.
It is a very good idea, Polidori, But I propose, that in honor of Shelley...
instead of vaccinating ourselves against reality, we should invent it anew.
Mm-hmm. Mary was just promising me that she is going to write a horror story.
Each one of shall write the most horrifying tale that he or she can imagine...
and we shall demonstrate that reality is always even more horrifying.
Letters are the most horrifying for me.
And sometimes they can be more appalling than reality.
Right. When do we start, tomorrow? Tomorrow,
Shelley, I feel certain that you will want to go to the castle of Chillon...
and there we shall really be able to contemplate the horror of this world,
Marvelous. We shall leave at dawn-- Not you, Polidori.
Your bad ankle will not permit it. Best you stay with the young ladies.
Yes, my Lord. Oh, wait. I would like to give you a present...
in return for your services as a doctor...
and your loyalty as a friend.
You know how much it meant to me,
Are you not cold?
No. Sleepy?
No,
Now you really do look like a serpent.
Adam's serpent is my aunt.
What did you see in the garden?
Nothing I see means anything unless I can share it with you.
[Sighs]
You are in every page I read...
every word I write, every thought and every landscape.
I would have liked to have said that,
But what did you see in the garden?
Or was it not in the garden?
Your breath is my breath.
But the look in your eyes is not like mine.
I saw someone looking at me from somewhere else,
I thought for a moment that person was you.
And I was afraid..,
because your thoughts were not my thoughts.
[Chuckles]
Buon giorno. Buon giorno.
Polidori, come and tell me what you would do in my position?
If Mary would allow me-- Oh, only too pleased.
My sister thinks so long about each move, the games go on forever.
I do not think too long about the moves. I just do not know what to do,
You must avoid being jumped by the knight, and king to castle.
But how? By moving the pawn forward, moving the castle...
or simply castling.
I leave the choice to you. I concede.
I'm going to Geneva.
May I? Of course.
But you will soon see that I am not a good player.
[Chuckles]
[Whispering] Shelley worries me.
I have observed in him certain tendencies. I would say--
Ever since he was a child Shelley has suffered from persecution mania.
Dm, may I point out that Claire has left that bishop unprotected?
[Chuckles] Take it,
Byron and Shelley are so different.
Byron believes the world was created in his honor,
Shelley, on the other hand, always has his head in the clouds...
borne along by the wind.
Nothing around him belongs to him.
They think my literary works are utterly worthless.
What do you think of me?
You are--
You are like my little brother.
But I'm older than you.
It is not a question of age.
It's only a castle.
The horror is in the minds of men that-- that make it a symbol of oppression.
[Chuckles] Do you really believe men invented horror?
I believe it is rather that men are a horrifying invention.
What existed before men? Horror,
What will still exist when men are gone? Horror.
Believe me, my dear Shelley...
horror is the only reality which sustains our existence,
[Low Growling]
[Mary Narrating] My imagination led me beyond the limits of fantasy.
The clock had already struck 1:00 in the morning...
and the rain continued to beat against my window.
[Banging] Claire?
[Polidori] It's Polidori, Miss Mary. I need to talk to you.
Tomorrow, Polidori. Let me in, Mary.
Say what you have to say to me, but I cannot answer the door. You understand?
[Whimpering] Let me in,
What are you saying? Polidori?
It is not right to leave the dog outside the house, Miss Mary.
[Thunderclap]
We're sinking for Christ's sake! Now get into the water! Do you want to die?
I can't swim! Get into the water and hang around my neck.
No one shall risk his life for me!
Pride! You're more stubborn than a mule! Good-bye.
You'll not stay for me! I'm not doing it for you, but for my honor!
We better go or we shall both be drowned.
It's not a bad death,
[Mary Narrating] Beneath the sheet, the shape of a human body could be discerned...
and suddenly I began to listen to its breathing.
The features that I had created began to seem beautiful to me.
Beautiful! God in heaven!
[Mild Chuckle, Barks]
[Howling]
[Laughing]
?[Discordant Chord On Piano]
Shall we play...
my Lord?
[Pool Balls Clacking]
I have lost...
the game.
[Screaming]
[Speaking I ndistinctly]
[Gasping]
I shall not be the first to abandon a sinking ship.
Nor shall I. May I remind you that this boat belongs to me.
And may I remind you that I cannot swim.
Well, if you cannot swim, beware of providence!
As far as I can see, Mr. Rousseau cannot swim either.
[Fletcher] My Lord!
Something terrible has happened.
The Dr, Polidori has taken his own life,
He only knew how to do three things...
and none of them well.
Let me stay with you. I will care for the child when it is born...
but you will leave with the rest.
You have your mother's Scottish heart. You're a miserable Scotsman!
I, a Scot?
I would be happy to see that wretched country sink beneath the waves.
Miserable Scotsman!
[Screaming] Why?
[Mary Narrating] On returning to London, we learned from the newspapers...
that the body of Shelley's first wife had been found in the waters of the lake.
When my sister Fanny, badly treated and despised by the Godwins...
finally committed suicide...
we found in her hand the watch that Shelley and l had given her as a present.
The daughter of Claire and Byron was named Allegra--
our son, William.
Years later, Shelley and I were married...
thus fulfilling the Godwins'wishes.
Godwin looked like a turkey and Shelley more like a drowned chicken.
You, on the other hand, gave the impression that you were not there at all.
I was thinking of Shelley. What a fine present he gave Godwin.
Here I am, a respectable woman at last.
Mummy, will you get married to Daddy every day?
Every day, William.
Good! We can have cakes every day.
Why do you not marry Daddy too?
Every day?
No, not every day. Your father's a very busy man and lives a long way away.
Very, very far away? Very, very far away.
As far away as that? Further away.
That what far? Yes, that far.
That is a long way. [Mary] Venice is a beautiful city...
with lots of castles floating on the water and lots of boats to ride in,
One day we shall go there, Tomorrow?
No, Allegra, not tomorrow. William shall come home with us today...
and tomorrow you shall play boats on the pond.
Mrs. Shelley?
Through my profession I know your husband very well--
a much admired and controversial poet.
I do ask your forgiveness because I was just passing...
and I did not want to lose the opportunity of greeting you.
My name is S-S-Stradford, of the bookshop...
Stradford and Stradford,
I beg you to be good enough to make your husband aware of this outstanding account...
in the name of William Godwin, your esteemed father.
I shall communicate your aims to my husband, Mr. Stradford.
And I shall refrain from mentioning the untimely nature of your approach.
Oh, dear, I do beg your pardon. I really do beg your pardon.
Now you see, Claire, that thanks to our father,..
Shelley is beginning to be known in London,
[Doorbell Chiming]
[Coughing]
This is incorrect, Mr. Shelley. It is for the agreed amount, Mr. Godwin.
It is not right that I should accept a check from a man who had just married my daughter...
made out to my name.
I ask you, Mr. Shelley, to write another made out to"the bearer."
[Coughing]
[Footsteps]
[Floorboards Creaking]
Mary,
Your breathing...
is my breathing.
That is what Shelley said to me.
How did you know?
Your thoughts...
are my thoughts.
Then you have seen everything!
Your sight...
is my sight.
Go away!
It is not good...
to leave the dog...
outside the house,
[Gasps] Whatever is the matter?
I don't know. You were late and I became nervous. I don't know why.
Well, I'm here now. [Panting]
There, there, Mrs. Shelley.
[Chuckles]
I would love to know what on earth has been going on inside that head of yours.
Just phantoms.
Godwin has told me that he is willing to publish your manuscript.
The best way to deal with phantoms is to publish them, [Coughing]
Let us leave England, Shelley. It would be so good for your health.
I feel much better, but I am cold.
We could go to Italy. Why, it's much cheaper to live there.
[Laughing]
[Coughing]
[Sighs]
What a strange wedding night, eh?
Everything is very strange.
I have been thinking.
First, Polidori, then my sister Fanny, then your wife Harriet...
all dead!
And I thought... it is like a curse...
as if all those deaths were like notes in a symphony--
all sentences from the same story.
Let us go to Italy.
I sometimes believe I've given life to an evil being--
a monster capable of existing beyond--
beyond the pages of a book.
Polidori, Fanny and Harriet all committed suicide,
It was their own monster that killed them, not yours.
We shall go to Italy, Mary.
We really shall.
William?
What is your name?
William, sir.
Are you the son of Shelley and Mary?
Yes, sir.
Thank you, sir.
Good-bye, William.
We shall see each other again...
in Venice,
William! Your father has arrived. Where were you?
[Allegra] William!
We are going to Venice, William!
Then we shall go sailing, you and I. Proper sailing, not toy boats.
And Allegra will meet her father who is waiting for her.
What does Byron look like, Uncle Shelley?
What's Byron like, Mama?
Your father is a confounded English poet.
Shelley should not be so determined to save his books,
Perhaps that way they'll not realize we have no passports.
[Chuckles]
Mmm. [Sheep Bleating]
Voltaire, proibito.
Rousseau, proibito.
Godwin. No lo conozco.
Poor old Godwin. ?Como dice?
Niente, Niente.
Byron. Banned.
Banned? Proibito.
Calderon,
Proibito? [Speaking In Italian]
I'm traveling with my wife, my sister-in-law and two children.
The roads in Italy are hardly safe.
[Speaking In Italian]
Goldoni. Godwin, sir.
Godwin, he's my wife's father.
Impossible, sir. He's banned.
Banned? [Speaking In Italian]
[Church Bells Chiming]
And how are we today, Fletcher?
Oh, wonderful, your Eminence.
This morning La Fornarina tried to take my Lord's life.
[Gasps] Tsk, tsk, tsk,
I will have another brandy.
The delicacy of the matter that brings me here requires it.
Fairness is sinking under the wait of sin, my Lord.
Oh, dispense with the preamble, Cardinal. How much?
Oh, the church is benevolent to the repentant sinner.
Every baker takes care of his customers.
But the question is complicated by the ostentation of the sin.
And so is the price, I assume.
It is advisable that the injured husband should be satisfied,
Mmm. Enough?
Adequate. Fletcher will see you out.
Good day.
And you must tell your husband...
not to sell the pearl necklace again.
Business is business, and presents, as we know, are presents.
He will not do it again, my Lord.
Yeah. I hope not. [Giggles]
My Lord, um, Mr. Shelley, Miss Mary, Miss Claire...
and two children are downstairs.
Hello, Shelley.
Hello, Byron.
Mary,
The little girl, is that Allegra? Yes.
I like her, She looks a lot like me.
Attention, my Lord! [Grunting]
[Screams] [Grunts]
No!
[Yelling In Italian]
So, Shelley, can you still not swim?
Do you have a pistol?
[Grunting, yelling]
Thank you. Excuse me.
[Shouting, Grunting]
Enough!
Aah! Aah!
Your arm is shaking, Byron.
Possibly a little. But I never miss.
The arm is only tensed at the moment of firing.
Perhaps you would care to demonstrate. [Speaking In Italian]
I am aiming for her right eye.
And I the left.
Let William stay a while with Allegra until the girl...
becomes accustomed to life in the palace.
Do you have a house in Venice?
Do not concern yourself about us, We have rooms on the Lido,
All right, now very well. I name this boat the William and Allegra.
May God bless her and all who sail in her, Bravo!
Yea! Yea!
One day you will both remember you sailed together over the stormy waters of this lake.
Can you swim, William? No, he cannot.
Hmm. You're like your father. He cannot and never will,
The children must go to bed, my Lord.
They've had a very long journey. Of course,
Good night, Allegra. Good night.
And good night, William. Good night.
To bed, Tita.
Pack La Fornarina's suitcases and throw them out of a window,
I never wish to see her again.
Hello, William.
Now we are in Venice,
Can you swim?
He cannot swim,
What's the matter?
Shelley. [Chuckles]
My old friend.
The-- The-- The only one...
who understands me,
Come in, Fletcher.
The little girl wishes to say good-bye.
Sit down, Fletcher.
I want Allegra to have a Catholic education,
Children really should be taught to know the world they live in...
and to understand the rules of the game.
They should be taught to believe in God,..
so that they do not decide to die so soon...
like William,
[Footfalls On Stairs]
Now-- [Grunts]
You must behave,
Well or badly, but behave...
and very soon I shall come and visit you, hmm?
I want her to learn to swim. [Together] Swim?
William doesn't know how to swim,
No. And remember, Allegra, you must grow.
And when you do, when you are grown up...
then I will marry you.
[Nun] We must leave, my Lord.
Very well.
Good-bye, Allegra.
Good-bye, Byron.
Halt the coach! Whoa!
Drive on, Drive on!
[Driver] Hey! Hey!
Hey!
Where are you going, ladies?
To Padua. Would you be kind enough to show me your passports?
We have no passports. We are returning to England.
And how did you get into Italy without a passport?
With my husband. And where is your husband now?
Somewhere on the hillside, and he is armed.
May I ask what you're doing, sir?
I was about to kill myself.
But I saw this house...
and I said to myself, "I could be happy in a house like that."
I was preparing-- English?
English. So am I,
Edward Williams,
Percy Bysse Shelley.
I live in that house. My wife and I rented it five months ago.
It's a dreadful place. It floods every time the tide comes in.
But you're quite right. We are happy there.
May I invite you to take a cup of tea?
Mr. Shelley? Yes?
You are under arrest. Why?
Do you have a passport? A firearm license?
No, I-- I have left all my papers...
in Venice at Lord Byron's house.
Are you a personal friend of Lord Byron's?
Very personal.
My name is Edward Williams. I am an officer in the British Army.
I live here in this house. Mr. Shelley is my guest.
The pistol is mine. I lent it to him.
[Williams] I like Byron. His"Corsaire" seems to me...
an ingenuous and haughty little piece, but I like it.
As a person, how is he?
Some people begin by being what they are.
Others end by being what they were.
I do not follow you, Mr. Shelley.
He means Byron is Byron, He is only himself.
He has an aristocratic sense of life, and that separates us.
The whole universe is his home. Everyone else is simply a guest.
You sound as if you hate him.
No, it is worse than that. I understand him,
And sometimes I would like to be as he is,
But clearly, if that should ever happen...
I would despise myself.
Forgive us, Mr. Williams.
Our son has died, and we are all distraught.
[Shelley] Our principles prevent us from sharing a house...
unless we contribute to the rental,
[Williams] We'll talk about that in the morning.
[Cocks Gun]
[Williams] One, two, three.
Congratulations, Mr. Shelley. You are the best shot I have ever met,
As our pistols are identical, we shall never know whose bullet that was,
I venture to suggest, Mr. Williams...
that you have just fired a shot that would make Byron himself turn pale.
You are most generous, May I keep the coin as a souvenir?
To be honest, Williams, I would like to keep the coin, to show it to Byron one day.
Well, let him come here if he wants to see it. Invite him to stay.
[Chuckles]
"An absurd and disagreeable work."
Did you hear that? That's what the Quarterly thinks about Frankenstein.
Mary, they will end up destroying you as they destroyed Keats...
if you do not learn to rise above the critics as I do,
They also say dreadful things about Godwin, Byron and you!
Critics of all ages are always wrong.
If they had any critical sense, they would abandon their miserable profession.
And who would talk about us then?
Every man would learn to think for himself...
and recover his dignity.
[Chuckles] Look,
This is a drawing of a ship I'm going to build with Williams.
I think you will like the idea. I cannot stand the sight of a ship.
I just cannot look at it. Shelley, believe me.
Mary,
Leave me. I am cold,
Cold? Yes, Your embrace makes me cold,
I do not want any more children. We have no children, only death.
I do not want to see a creature born that is destined to die,
If you do not want me by your side...
I shall go.
Shelley!
Hunt is here!
The critic!
He's very interested in your poem!
What? Hunt!
The critic! A critic?
What the devil are you doing out there?
You see, I cannot swim!
Then come out! A critic?
Here in the sea?
It is Hunt! He wants to publish your poems!
Why shall I never be able to swim?
Because you do not want to!
You have only to throw yourself into the water and let yourself float.
Then learn to move your arms.
Shelley!
[Coughing]
Why did you do that, jane? Your clothes are wet,
Because if I had not, you would have drowned.
I was just about to discover the truth,
But I always hit the bottom of the well.
And what is worse, someone always drags me to the top again...
without my having asked.
It is time for lunch.
[Children Laughing] Behave, children!
"The Mask of Anarchy" is a great poem, there can be no doubt about that...
but I fear its publication in my magazine...
may give rise to unpleasant consequences.
Come along, children. Elisa has kindly offered...
to take you for a walk along the beach.
What do you mean, unpleasant consequences?
You're the only critic who has been able to appreciate Shelley's poetry.
The publication of"The Mask" would be very important just now.
"The Mask" is a political poem, Mrs. Shelley...
and in England, anything smelling of Godwin...
stinks like the plague.
The whole of England stinks like the plague.
Mr. and Mrs. Hunt, Mr. Shelley.
Mr. Hunt and I have already met.
Oh, I do beg your pardon.
The sea swept all my clothes away.
If that is the case, Mr. Hunt, then why not publish"The Serpent"?
Byron called Shelley"the serpent."
I do not know the poem.
I read it last night, and I like it.
I believe Mrs. Shelley knows it by heart. Why do you not recite it to us?
I would not be able to. Oh, do try, Mary.
"Wake the serpent not...
lest he should not know the way to go."
[Children Laughing]
It wants to be free. So we must let it be,
It is only a hat.
[Chuckles] Yes, but it does belong to my husband. [Chuckles]
What are you doing? Shelley, come back! You'll kill yourself!
No sensible man should ever wear a hat,
Or have children!
Shelley!
Edward,
Ahoy, there!
Mr. Williams, your hat.
[Chuckles] How on earth did you manage to climb up?
By closing my eyes. Promise me you'll never do such a thing agai
I promise you I shall never wear a hat again.
[Knocking] Come in, Shelley.
Mary-- This is the Frankenstein money.
This is for food and lodging, this is to send to Godwin...
and this is for the boat that Williams and Shelley want to buy.
I want you to ask Shelley to go and see Allegra. They will not let me see her.
Byron's forbidden me to be allowed into the convent,
Please ask Shelley to go. I must see her, I can think of nothing else.
Ask him yourself. I shall give this pile...
to the Williams'servant so that he may marry Elisa...
and if she has a baby, Shelley will recognize the child.
Well, it was his idea.
Do you really think there's something between them? I suppose so.
I suppose that you also imagine that there's something between Shelley and me!
Yes, I suppose so. What is the matter with you, Mary?
You've become stranger each day with me, with Shelley and even with yourself.
If you want me to be completely honest, it is hardly surprising I should be going a little mad.
Shelley is no longer Shelley, but you continue to be yourself!
[Coins Clattering]
[Giggles]
[Whispering, Inaudible]
[Bell Ringing]
Tell my mom and Byron to come and see me.
Shelley.
How long are you going to go on...
being satisfied with yourself?
The sea brought it.
The sea did not bring it. The wind, then.
It was not the wind either,
When I went to visit Allegra, I saw your monster...
exactly as you had described him to me.
So now, you see, your nightmares have become my nightmares too.
He looked at me with hatred,
But I would like to believe that his hatred is not yours.
Oh, my God, Shelley. I just do not know what is happening.
It's as if I were imagining things against my will...
as if he were determined to bring my darkest premonitions to reality.
I want to stop it happening, but I cannot.
My thoughts no longer belong to me...
and I cannot rid myself of the idea that our son William...
also died because of me,
Help me! I curse myself, because without knowing it...
I have awakened a sleeping serpent.
Help me! We must destroy him or he will destroy us.
We'll not need the boat, Shelley. The whole house is afloat.
Shall not need the house, Mr. Williams,
Our boat.
[Claire] Thank you for everything. I would have loved to stay...
for the arrival of Lord Byron, but it's quite impossible.
You do understand, jane?
I'll get Allegra back, Shelley, even if I have to abduct her!
Don't do it, Claire. You've already made one mistake.
Do not make another. Drive on!
[Driver] Hey!
Whoa! Hey! Hey!
[Driver Shouting]
In Spain, the troops the king sent against Bolivar have risen...
and Riego has seized power.
That is good news. One line does not change the poem.
ldeas are the best weapon against tyranny, and time wields that weapon.
But time is a tyrant, Shelley.
I'm very much afraid that only tyrants can do away with tyranny.
Count of three?
One, two, three.
[Gunshots]
[Chuckles]
This was Mr. Shelley's shot.
He always said you were capable of equalling it. We shall see.
[Chuckles] Congratulations, my Lord.
Well, it is hardly surprising. I am training for combat in Greece...
so mine is only practice, while Shelley's, on the other hand...
as ever, is pure inspiration.
Thank you. Excuse me, my Lord.
I feel, my Lord, that the humidity in the cellar...
is not conducive to the best preservation of the weapons.
Well, with Mr. Williams' permission, we shall move them to the attic,
To the attic with the weapons, Fletcher.
They shall sleep in good company. Will you excuse me, gentlemen?
Are you going to come with me as far as the cliff? Certainly.
[Williams] Now, I entrust my wife to you, but not my hat.
Byron is the most noble, sweet and generous being I have ever met.
When he leaves, my life will be an empty shell...
as it was before I met him.
Worse, because now, I shall never be able to forget him.
He thinks he's old, and says that to me--
I, who have been married to an old man...
ever since I was a young girl.
What is that little girl doing playing on the shore?
What little girl?
They came to see me!
Byron wants us to call her the DonJuan.
We shall name her Ariel.
[Jane] The name of a wind for a sailing boat.
Sounds redundant.
It's good enough.
Besides, Williams and l shall be sailing her, not Byron.
Williams does not know how to sail.
Do not worry. Neither do I.
[Chuckles]
Ariel.
What has happened to Allegra?
Do not tell me. I do not want to know. I can take no more.
Allegra is dead, Mary.
I did not wish to share this sorrow with anyone...
because nobody can do anything now--
for her or for me,
Your grief is as useless as my words.
I knew it. It was he,
He? Against the laws of nature...
I gave life to that loathsome creature.
He's nothing but the fruit of my pretension and pride.
Byron, I should never have done it.
You are tired, Mary, and I understand you. So am I.
But the epidemic that killed Allegra was not exactly literature.
She died a week ago. I do not speak of literature, but of myself.
That monster is within me. I know him.
I recognize him.
Why my son? Why Allegra? I only felt love. Why?
Come on, Mary, You must convince Shelley not to go out sailing.
That boat-- Well, I will persuade him, but you know Shelley.
He won't listen. When Shelley went to see Allegra...
he saw the monster in the convent.
And I saw him too. And I saw Shelley's corpse being eaten by fish.
And I saw you, Byron. I saw you in a room with very white walls...
your body torn and broken.
I know now what my monster is made of and the spirit that moves him.
Everything he is has come from me.
I have always been as I am, ever since I killed my mother when she gave birth to me...
long before he escaped from within me and began to live and move independently.
Now, I can no longer stop him. What can I do?
God in heaven, what can I do?
Since you have had the power to write our destiny...
you must now have the courage to accept it.
[Mary Narrating] Shelley and Williams put out to sea.
Ten days later, their bodies were recovered...
and three weeks later, Shelley's remains were burned on the beach.
"Wake the serpent not...
"lest he should not know the way to go.
"Let him draw which yet lies sleeping...
"through the deep grass ofthe meadow.
"Not a bee shall hear him creeping...
"not a mayfly shall awaken...
"from its cradling blue bell shaken.
Not the starlight as he's sliding through the grass--"
just think, my Lord, [Hunt Continues, Indistinct]
Soon, we will be in Greece...
fighting for freedom.
Shelley was the finest of men, Fletcher.
[Sobbing]
We shall meet...
in Greece, my Lord.
[Mary Narrating] Byron gave his fortune and his life...
for the freedom of Greece, but he died before entering the fray.
As with Shelley, words were his battle..,
and they shall live forever in the minds of men.
Mary,
We shall...
never row together... again.