Original subtitles

[Coach driver speaks Italian]

Your Excellence?

Your Honor, it's me.

Your Gentialities...

Disembarking is desired muchly.

There's great danger of the carriage falling off the mountain, and dying.

Oh dear.

Your concern is appreciated, but we are quite comfortable

and are possessed of infinite faith in your skill to keep us

from all possible harm.

Do shut the door, will you.

- What does he say? - [Speaks Italian]

No.

Excellence...do not trouble yourself. Forgive me for disturbing you.

Beautiful scenery, eh? Bye. I sorry.

Quaint, completely quaint.

[Speaks Italian]

"By the unrestrained calculation of knowledge, and universal political freedom,

is it possible to make every individual happy,

and happier in a higher degree

than the most fortunate is at present?"

- Caress of a tender heart. - You depend on it too much.

And I depend on you.

You smell like flowers...

heather and broome...

limber, the rest sketchy.

Claire, what is it?

The rats were crawling all over my body!

- It can't be. - I could feel its claws on my face!

They were tearing at my face!

Come on then.

Will you come?

No rats here, just your sister and Shelley.

They were all around me, honestly, all over the bed!

Sleep now.

- Isn't she...? - Yes.

Sleep.

You don't have to go through all this to be with us.

Does she?

This one I have christened H.M.S. Intrepid.

We can all sail with all due pomp and ceremony...

No, Shelley...

Daft.

Please, Shelley...

A bit sad for our pockets I'm afraid.

Just one night, please?!

We've had ten days of cold beds, dirty rooms and awful food.

Rats! Don't forget the rats!

You are cruel, absolutely horrid!

Mary, there's a wonderful place to bathe here. Come in!

Come in!

You must! It's sublime, I tell you!

Claire, you then, aren't you hot in all those clothes?

Come in!

Claire, don't you dare!

Alive!

I am alive!

Except for Napoleon only one man in the world has such a coach.

That's what our coming here is all about.

We met in March, in Naples.

And is the relationship intimate?

His Satanic Majesty, doomed to grow older.

Doomed Byron.

Welcome...Señor.

It is a pleasure to have you with us.

please have a hot bath prepared for his lordship,

and bring two bottles of champagne as soon as possible.

It was foolish of me to tell you where I would be.

It was unforgivable of you to leave us, milord.

I thought...

You should have heeded the rumours of my cruel nature.

I could report it tender once.

Dr. John William Polidori.

Milord's companion...and physician.

- Are you ill? - The world is ill, Missy.

I am well.

I must speak with you.

- Now? At this moment? - Yes.

Polly, tell that cretin Burgher to feed Mutz, he's constantly forgetting.

As you wish.

Come.

Come tell me dame Come tell me dame

My dame come tell me truly

It's not the lady that makes you come but it's the double-driving

That makes me come That makes me come

That makes me do it straight away

Come loose and free your battering ram and bang it away up my gateway

Nine inch will please our lady

Encore! Bravo, bravo! Encore!

Payment first, milord.

You are such a wicked, bad girl.

What ever will I do with you?

What ever you wish.

Well, I shall have to give you spanks.

Do you promise?

You'll be very hurt in this... my little fool.

My little fiend.

And that will be the matter of having a child here.

Hopeless. Utterly hopeless.

- Utterly hopeless. - Hopeless.

I do not want to talk now.

I want to feel you inside me... deeply...deeper than you have ever gone.

You are my lord and I surrender all to you.

Wake up! Wake up!

He says you are a great poet.

And he says you were right to leave England when you did.

He says you and Mary are children of the revolution.

He considers us brothers and sisters in exile.

And invites you to lunch.

All of us. I accepted. Is that all right?

Mary, no-one dares talk to him.

Women faint if he speaks to them. Honestly!

He is considered wicked, you know.

I have heard.

You'll like him. I know you will.

Do you approve? Say you do.

How could I not approve of anyone who seems to make you so happy?

Thank you, sweet Shelley.

Good, noble, understanding, adorable, Shelley.

The terrace at 2:00. How wonderful, how lovely.

Thank you both.

He is the greatest poet of the age.

And its greatest scandal.

They say his marriage with Annabella is broken.

There's talk of a child between him and his sister, Augusta.

Oh, May...

Hey, can we really judge?

You would pay for a month, and look at us. What would you say?

That I am living with another woman's husband.

A fugitive.

A subversive.

- Atheist? - Atheist.

A man who has seduced and eloped with two women

who are step-sisters.

Excellent! Perfectly stated.

Now compare that to what we are.

Never say I love you enough.

Enough...

Let me tell you, we have beheld such scenes of heartbreaking

misery and poverty at home and in Ireland, but at times

my whole being shakes with a hatred so strong it seems to smother my very life!

Man's unhappiness is caused by the evilness of power,

and his obedience to it.

And who holds this power?

Two crosses of type: It's Kings and Prince

to whom all the people, the poor, bind people abjectly submit,

in field, sword and craft, and thereby confirm the acts that enslave them!

There's not one that can set man free without revolution and anarchy!

Excuse me. These are topics that lie close on my soul.

No, no, my friend. Not at all.

I do not think we shall see the revolution you dream of.

At least not in our lifetimes.

The inhabitants of that damned island we call England subsist mainly by suction

and drown their energies for such enterprises with gin.

Then we must rescue them by our example,

and show them how to challenge authority, what ever the cost.

- What is that? - Laudanum. I'm never without it.

I prefer smoking opium. Have you tried it?

I've not had the opportunity.

Well, perhaps we could ask the good doctor here to rectify that lamentable omission.

It's what he does best, potions and pleasures from Polly.

At times considerable pleasure.

- Tell us about your journey. - Quite stimulating.

We landed in Ostend, where his lordship immediately fell

like a thunderbolt upon the chambermaid.

It's lies. All lies!

I have not had a whore in six months.

Since separation from my dear wife, Annabella, I am all for morality

and confine myself to strict adultery.

Shelley, I understand that your Queen Mab is still the rage in London.

To attack God, King and marriage in one piece is quite an accomplishment.

Blasphemy sells well, doesn't it?

Your friends account you a man of testichores,

but when the father of these two precious starlings continues to damn you in print....

bleed you in person, cut you in person...

It doesn't matter what he says of me.

Godwin is a great man and I shall continue to support him.

Oh, Shelley, you are good. Too good.

Too much love. Too much friendship.

Can we have too much love?

Silent as a sphinx all afternoon, and finally a word.

Tell me about love, lady. Free love.

In my own impoverished experience it has never, ever been free.

But I am willing to learn if you be willing to teach.

What say you, Mistress Mary?

You think a great deal of yourself, milord, and very little of others and their feelings.

It is too bad you have learned your manners in such exclusive society.

It seems to have made them vulgar, as well as cruel.

Bravo! Bravo!

Spoken like a true feminist.

To the Rights of Women.... what ever they are.

They are quite simple, really.

To develop our minds and control our bodies.

Pardon.

It's a consequence of my dieting.

Have you ever seen anyone so thin who is not at death's door, except Shelley?

Damn you!

Mary, feel my ribs.

- Hmm...afraid? - Of what?

Well, only you can answer that, but surely there's no harm and no danger.

- Surely you're in control. - I'd just prefer not to.

Claire.

Shelley, I begin to understand you.

- Can you feel them? - Mmm, mmm. I can actually count them.

You delightful girl.

Charming girl.

His lordship has decided to take a villa in Capri for the summer,

and has invited us to occupy a part of the adjoining estate.

That's quite generous, but I'm afraid we haven't...

What do you say?

What ever will make you happy.

- We accept. Gladly. - Splendid.

A toast... A toast to what, Mary?

To friendship. Perhaps...

To perhaps friendship.

I've never had a very high opinion of women,

but when I meet one superior to her own sex then, most of our own,

I worship her in proportion as I despise the rest.

And so to you...

And to you Claire, and you Shelley...

and even you, Polly, infidels, subversives, seducers, wontons all...

What lively company.

Fletcher, if you drop that I will have you drawn, quartered,

skinned and boiled alive. Berger...

- A little to the right. - Burgher, I'm a Swiss cheese king!

- Careful with my babies!

Good morning! Rush and put that there.

God, burn that.

Whoops! My dog.

Italian by blood, Swiss by nationality, but Irish by wit.

Outside with those.

Il Fiori...le jardin...

You are a cretin, Berger. You are a cretin.

Beauty from a flaw...Rousseau wants Shelley's admiration.

Music for inspiration and flowers for the lady.

- You're an absolute darling. - I know.

Alys...

Come down from there. No more work. I forbid it!

It is time to play. Come, papa has surprises!

Come and see.

There's a nice bit of crème brûlée, hey governor?

You pick them well, you do. Nasty buggers!

The cock is crowing, we must be going. Carnival is coming.

Come along children.

The carnival is coming.

Good lord, what do you think?

Can one think in the presence of this?

Claire told me of your passion nautical.

I saw her flying in the sunset and I knew instantly she must be ours.

Name her, Shelley.

- Arion. - Perfect. Perfect!

Aboard me hearties. Argh, argh! Step lively there.

Lively, lively! Aboard, aboard!

A wind's in our favour, mates, and we face the sea.

Aboard. Cast off. Forward there sharp Fate.

Get thee aboard.

Shelley!

Then this pisspot writes- 'With Shelley's poetry, we peek behind the mask,

'of a metaphysical revolutionary, and sadly we see the face

'of as little child.'

'The universe is his books and poise, in which he dabbles

'his fingers with the mischief of a little boy.'

Wonderful flattery.

I have written a play.

- I think it quite good. - Do shut up, John.

How divine.

Play?

Forgive me, John. The work has considerable merit.

Please, play.

Yes, do.

There's something very softening in the presence of all aboard.

Makes you feel better with yourself and everything else.

Well, Shelley, is we poets or ain't we?

We is, God help us.

Then let us poetise to Claire’s beauty.

- What say you? - Why not?

Me first...

There be none of Beauty's daughters with a magic like thee-

And like music on the waters is thy sweet voice to me.

- Come along. Have a go. - Hold on.

- Come on Shelley. - Spit it out.

I have it. I have it. Silence!

Thy voice... Thy voice slow rising like a spirit lingers-

O’er shadowing the soft and lulling winds...

The blood and life within thy snowy fingers Teach witchcraft to the instrumental strings!

As morning-dew that in the sunbeam dies I am dissolved in these consuming ecstasies.

Well, well, well!

We's all gettin' sentimental like!

I can sing as well, you know.

Yes! I will sing for you.

Oh, please don't sing!

A song that I learned while fighting the savages in Albania.

Ready?

- What the?! - You understand nothing about total harmonics!

I'll have to sing it for you again.

Oh yes, yes. You're growlings, all of you!

I will have you know that that is a an authentic Albanian mad cry!

Let it be your name in Albanian.

Yes, Alby, the Mad Albanian!

What do you think, Mary?

Absolutely fitting.

Henceforth, I shall be known as Alby.

Al-by...

And I shall answer to no other name.

Does his authorship not know this way is not moving?

Row man, row! Earn your passage, matey!

You think me cruel, but I am his most generous and loving benefactor.

I support him and therefore perform two services.

I keep the Doctor alive, as well as the people

he would be killing were he to practice his foul art.

I will not tolerate this.

Oh, but you will Polly Dolly. You will.

As long as you travel as tassle to purse, go on.

Though the night was made for loving, And the day returns too soon,

Yet we'll go no more a roving By the light of the moon.

No, no, no!

Evil is absolutely excluded from the system of the universe.

And it only exists in Man when he violates its laws of harmony and love.

Bollocks! There's evil in the universe. Evil apart from Man!

I disagree completely. Evil is a terrible, manipulating

Look around you, Shelley.

All is war. Attack, defend, surrender, conquer!

Good against evil. The Devil against God.

God! Alby, you are a slave to the vilest and most vulgar prejudices.

And in addition you are as mad as the wind!

True, but my title has considerable weight in my opinion.

God and the Devil are only projections of human tendencies.

Man can determine his existence, change his world.

It's all cause and effect.

Yes.

Cause...and effect. It's very simple.

Claire, I wish you would not swallow so much supper.

Chicken wings, sweetbreads, custard, peaches, porter...

A woman should only be seen eating lobster salad and drinking champagne.

But don't stop on my account.

To my Mad Albanian.

Man cannot recreate the universe for good. The diabolical forces are too great.

God the creator exists, but the creation is bad.

What more proof do you need than to look at me?

Here! Here! Here! Here!

Coleridge says opium is a magic door to realms we cannot approach in normal experiences..

- Titan once created powers. - I think he is deeply mistaken.

Surely he demonstrated the brilliance of his powers long before he came to the pipe?

His addiction has done nothing but draw a veil over a beautiful light.

Really...what about Kublai Khan?

Beware! Beware! His flashing eyes, his floating hair!

Weave a circle round him thrice, And close your eyes with holy dread

For he on honey-dew hath fed, And drunk the milk of Paradise.

It's ready.

I don't think I will.

I know you will appreciate this.

Gently, Shelley.

Gently. Not too much.

Gently.

That's enough.

I wouldn't want to be responsible for ant addiction.

You approve, Shelley?

Ladies, Shelley, I would like your opinion of my recent acquisition.

Please, Polly.

- It's Fuseli's work. - Yes. It's called 'The Nightmare'.

The creature on the woman is call an incubus.

It's said to cause dreams of terror by sitting on the sleeper's chest,

and breathing in her face.

And the horse?

The spectre of the night mare upon which the incubus rides to his victims

on his visitations of horror.

Ghastly.

It's unfortunate Polly that your perceptions always seem to deal

with that which is purely superficial.

It's common knowledge

that the origin of the painting comes from the unhappy passion

Fuseli had for a woman he desperately sought to possess.

If you had used your eyes as they were meant to be used

you would see that the creature's weight is not centred on her chest

but closer to the lady's more erogenous asymmetry.

And it is not that he has been breathing in her face,

but rather taking her breath away.

Her expression, even in sleep, is obviously post coital.

And just look at the creature's expression...

See how he dares anyone to take what is his by right of ravishment.

What you are witnessing is a rape in return for unrequited love.

I find it...vacuous.

If you will excuse me I will take this puerile and superficial self to bed.

- Will you be wanting anymore of this? - No.

You cannot resist hurting them.

People like Polidori live for such treatment,

and would die for want of it.

Excuse me. Don't move.

The claret is superb, the company stimulating, the evening most entertaining.

Poly, don't sulk. Come back downstairs.

- let me have it. - No.

Give it to me.

Prussic acid.

I cannot bear this anymore.

I will not.

This incessant ridicule.

I try mu best for you, George,

but you put Shelley, all of them, before me.

Killing yourself would have been classical,

but not very agreeable.

You bastard!

All right, John.

I'll make it better.

Stop now.

All right, John.

That's enough.

Come here.

What do you think of this?

Or music by the night-wind sent Through strings of some still instrument,

Or moonlight on a midnight stream, Gives grace and truth to life's unquiet dream.

What's wrong?

My thoughts are so clear one moment, and then the next...

I'm writing everything as muddled and strained and confused.

It will come.

I think you will find Chillon quite entertaining.

Since the Reformation it's been used as a prison and a place of torture.

I hardly think a place of suffering and torture could be entertaining.

We needn't have brought the ice, Poly, Mary could have chilled the wine.

I didn't know you took laudanum, Claire.

Shelley let me try some in London.

Surely you can't object?

Isn't the object of life sensation?

We exist, we tremblingly arrive...

I don't believe that feelings can be manufactured in a pipe or bottle.

Well, in this harsh world I takes me pleasures where I find them, milady.

I'm not fussy, I ain't.

You know Shelley, the Muslims have completely solved the problem of women.

They lock them up.

Now, ladies and gentlemen... extinguish your lights.

Now my friend, you say that evil does not exist in the world

save that which man creates, and I say exists as part of the duality of creation.

You will never convince me of that.

Would you enter into a little experiment to prove my point?

What sort of experiment?

You will smoke... and then take the precious object

of your most tender affection... Mary the good, Mary the loving,

and view her in a dimension of other seeing.

If she does not change... Well, then you are right,

but if you glimpse the demon behind the mask...then I am right.

What do you say?

You don't need to prove what you already know to be truth.

Viewing Mary is one of the great joys of my life.

This can do nothing but enhance that pleasure.

I'm asking you, please don't do this.

For your sake I will.

A bit more, Shelley.

Open your eyes, Shelley.

Look at Mary.

Concentrate on her face.

Only on Mary's face.

Tell us what you see.

Yes...I know her to be.. and the more...so much...

To be lost?

Beauty....

Light...perfect light.

You were wrong, Alby.

Deeper...look deeper.

Closer...

The light...

How beautiful, I can't free you, Alby.

Closer Shelley.

The eyes will tell you.

Look at the smile.

Does it not glow demonic?

It's Mary. Your only darling Mary

Careful Shelley.

It seeks to remain hidden.

The fiend is clever.

See how the form changes... Careful Shelley, beware.

Command it to reveal itself.

- Come out... - I love you, Shelley.

Show yourself.

- Mary loves you. - Command it Shelley. Command it!

I love you.

Mary loves you.

Mary Loves you.

- He's asleep. - And Claire?

As well.

He adores you...and you violate his trust with a cruel charade.

It was no charade, lady. It's the world as it is.

Shelley is an innocent wandering this planet without defences.

The beast will swallow him whole.

There's more to this than the metaphysics of good and evil.

More?

You are attempting to drive a wedge between Shelley and me.

Why?

I will have your answer, Alby.

Perhaps to make room for myself.

What do you mean?

That you love me as you love Shelley.

I could never love anyone like I love him.

You really think me evil?

I find you human.

Myself as well.

You are the most unique creature I've ever met and the most beautiful.

I give you fair warning...

I mean to pursue you with every weapon at my command.

Love is won with love, milord, not weapons.

It is not a battle.

Why do you fight so hard against it?

Not it- you.

Teach me this game of love for love, lady.

You see how quickly I learn.

I promise not to make love to you until you desire it.

I must see if Shelley is still asleep.

And if he is...you will return?

I love you, Shelley.

Could you not admit Alby into what we share?

Would you really want him?

If you're inclined to love him, you should feel free to do so.

No, it could never alter what we have.

Could you love him?

But you find him fascinating?

I'm frightened.

I see him gaining command over you.

- And I'm frightened. - Mary!

My God, Shelley, fascinating made you fear me!

To look into your eyes and see such horror, such...

Listen to me.

What I saw was only a goblin from my childhood box of terrors.

This morning I awoke knowing that the only way to end fear

is to enter the nightmare completely and embrace the monster that resides there.

The opium let me see that.

It matters not what Alby's reasons are.

For myself, I will go wherever experience takes me.

I must.

Don't you see that.

Help me, May.

Come with me.

There's a terrible danger in this, Shelley.

Do you love me?

Yes, as your bride.

What then, my dearest heart, my love, my friend, could ever harm us?

I apologise for any discomfort last night's entertainment

may have caused you.

On the contrary, I found the experience illuminating.

What interests me about the experiment is that the things of which you seek

to fight lust must also frighten you.

Else why would you seem to think them possessed of such power.

We are boring you.

There's only one thing which inspires me to terror-

that is myself.

We all seemed to have escaped relatively unscathed.

Look at Claire, it has not diminished her appetite one jot.

It is not appetite that stimulates my consumption,

but that I am obliged to eat for two.

I am with child.

With...child...

Stunningly biblical.

Congratulations, Shelley.

- Oh, but the child is yours. - Really?

In March and April I was with you in London.

Shelley and Mary were at Bishop's Gate.

If you all have any doubts you can check with your mathematical wife.

I'm sure she would corroborate.

Claire, are you quite sure?

That's wonderful.

Well...

I wonder what sort of little Byron will issue from this.

Poly, didn't Erasmus Darwin concluded that at the moment

of conception, it is the males, and only the males,

thoughts and imagination which determine the character and form of the child.

Yes! He also concluded that the birth of monsters

follows from the same process.

Yes, well I must try very, very hard to remember what it is I was thinking

at that moment.

Well, it's no matter.

Just imagine, if Darwin is right the bubble of seeds spilled in

a whore's lap were gone astray in a voluptuous dream might

very well, for all we know, have caused a Caesar or a Bonaparte.

It's the thought that counts.

Is that all you have to say?

No, on the contrary, I have a great interest in these matters.

See, I believe one day scientists will move beyond the natural boundaries of

human knowledge and instruct us how to propagate life without coupling.

We'll fornicate only for pleasure and man will create himself in laboratories

with the aid of electricity and chemicals.

- Without women? - Eminently possible.

Think of the advantages, Mary. To displace God,

to create ourselves and live forever!

- What an Eden! - You are mad!

Yes, and so are you... and so are we all.

How else does one get through this hell?

Shelley?

Shelley?

Is that you?

Claire?

Shelley, answer me.

Claire?

No!

His mother would become impatient with his lameness,

and fly into a rage when ever he came into the room.

The doctor she gave him over to was a drunken quack,

whose sole treatment for the affliction was to take his foot,

force it round,

and then screw it tightly into a heavy wooden box,

which George was then obliged to drag around like some dead thing

as an extension of himself.

Dear God.

The townspeople of Aberdeen called him 'Mrs. Byron's little crooked gallop'.

Well, the world seems to have righted itself.

Has it?

- Reading Tasso? - Dante.

John, forgive me, but would you excuse us?

Certainly.

We'll resume after lunch, if you wish.

Yes. Very much. Thank you.

You and John seem to have become quite close.

He tells me you call him 'little brother'.

He is quite lost and very greatly in need of a friend.

How is she?

Shattered.

I don't ask you to excuse me, but I would like you to try to imagine,

strange as it may seem to you,

that this heart was once, a very long time ago,

affectionate by nature.

All beings great and small are linked by order.

When this order is formed

it stamps God's likeness on us all.

Don't you think Mary, that wherever physical deformity exists,

it can always be traced to the face,

what however handsome you can be?

Very odd that because one has a defective foot one can never have a perfect face.

Very odd.

Shelley?

Now then, the matter of the child.

Naturally I will bear all costs.

Damn you.

Claire, however indelicate, money is important in these matters.

I propose that the infant after it is weaned

be placed in the care of my sister Augusta.

- Never. - Very well.

I will take the child to live with me.

You must understand there is no hope of us ever being together.

The child or my name- you cannot have both.

You would never acknowledge it if I kept it?

No.

- Could I visit it? - Claire, no!

It can stay with us, as my own.

Can't you see...

as the child of a lord it would have advantages

which none of us could offer.

Think what you're doing.

I am!

I would tear the flesh off my bones to ensure good for it!

Will you witness my contract with his lordship?

Will you?

We bear witness.

Goodnight then.

You will care tenderly for it?

I vow.

Thus...she maintains the link with me and assures her place in history.

Would you allow a child to be ripped from you like that?

You have forced her into it.

- So you take the child? - Yes.

Perhaps we can be of some comfort to each other.

I must love something.

What is it boy? Stand.

Good lord!

No! No! No Alby!

Damn you, you seek to take on me!

This slug, this worm that calls itself a man, is not content to fatten himself

at my table, now he must also rape my soul!

He's after my letters and journals! To what purpose, Poly Dolly?

Tell me or by God I will run you through!

Your publisher, Murray, he offered me £500 for your secrets.

You have just pronounced your just sentence!

No, Alby! You must not!

You have the journals.

Would you risk hanging to satisfy your anger?

Get out of my sight!

Please.

Go away.

Please.

I'll cut you to ribbons!

You lacked oath.

It's enough! It's enough!

Be grateful for mercy, Fletcher.

Next time I shall not let you off so easily.

I am grateful, my lord.

Confound it man, don't you sweat?

Only in private, my lord.

To do so in public in your lordship's presence would be most unfitting.

Would that be all, sir?

- Piss off. - Yes, sir.

You can show servants milk-water. it upsets the natural order of things.

Excuse me, milord.

It seems that Doctor Polidori left at twenty past...

So where's the dear boy buggered off too, hey?

Geneva. He's staying with Madam De Stael.

- Have you seen him? - Yes. He plans to leave for Venice.

How is the rat?

Tolerably well.

If you could have perhaps encouraged his literary efforts a bit more,

he may not have been driven to violate your trust.

Shelley...

You understand so little of the world.

Well, what is it Rushton?

- The bag, sir. - Well, send it to him.

Wait. Does it still contain...?

Let me have it.

Thank you, Rushton. You may leave the bag.

Changed your mind?

I was just thinking of having a little experiment of my own.

I wondered if you'd join me?

You have only to name the where and the when of it.

Tonight.

At midnight.

- You're very mysterious. - Yes, isn't it?

Could I have some more tea?

Fletcher!

- Done. - First a toast.

To feeling tremblingly alive.

And to you Alby, where ever your journeys take you.

Thank you.

You first. You're the guest of honour.

Can one know something of the details of this mysterious experiment beforehand?

Certainly.

You've caused Shelley to look at what you call the evil behind

the mask of ourselves.

Now you and I will look.

I hope this does not prove more than you bargained for.

I will take the chance.

You permit this?

Mary does not need my permission for anything.

Are you not concerned for your sister?

It is your terror I come to witness.

- Ah! - May we begin?

Je suis à votre service, mademoiselle.

It does not like the light.

- I think... - Think what?

Think that should be...enough.

Finish the session.

Are you unable?

Interesting.

Your face...

Listen... It comes!

- My God, what is it? What's there? - Quiet.

Look.

It seeks you, Alby.

Are you hungry?

You needed looking after.

We thought it best you come to us.

It wasn't any opium.

John William added a concoction of the mushroom Amanita Muscaria to the wine.

He thought you's find the experience interesting.

The monster?

India rubber and a masterful performance by the doctor.

You've come out of it even more beautiful.

John William altered the pipe...

so that when I used it I received little, if any, of the smoke.

You couldn't...summon monsters and play Magus...without taking your death.

So what of the terror?

I saw a monstrous great longing... a sadness...

and I knew...

it was me!

You can't let her leave like this.

Go on then.

I wanted to say goodbye and wish you a safe journey.

You have the most annoying habit of telling people who love you

to go away.

Our child will be beautiful... and it will all be from you.

Goodbye my little fiend.

Shelley! Let's not live to be old, you and I!

Let the grim tyrant take us in youth!

Agreed, but first I insist we write a great work.

No more words! Something real!

Perhaps our month of campaign to free my beloved Greece from the Turks!

Yes! Can you see it?

Me, at the head of a great army, like Napoleon!

You are incorrigible.

Goodbye, old man.

Say hello to England for me.

- May I... - What?

Go loving my dear friend.

I have never seen anything like him and I know I never shall.

He's too good for this world, Mary.

Goodbye, Alby.

Goodbye most uncommon creature.

Go on, driver.

Take it all with you. It's not over with me.

I'll do something or other. I will, Shelley!

I dare not guess; but in this life Of error, ignorance, and strife,

Where nothing is, but all things seem, And we the shadows of the dream,

It is a modest creed, and yet Pleasant if one considers it,

To own that death itself must be, Like all the rest, a mockery.

That garden sweet, that lady fair, And all sweet shapes and odours there,

In truth have never passed away: ’Tis we, ’tis ours, are changed; not they.

For love, and beauty, and delight, There is no death nor change...

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