All language subtitles for Rowing.With.The.Wind.1988.1080p.BluRay.H264.AAC-RARBG

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

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.

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--
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.

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.

Hurry, Claire.

It would have been better
to have hired a sled instead
of this pay cart.

Tomorrow on the lake
we shall hire a boat,

Then you'll be happy.

I'm sorry, Mr. Shelley. Lord Byron is rowing.

Did you not row in the regattas
at Edinburgh, Polidori? Now push.

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.

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--

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.

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

Do not distress yourselves
about the weather,

Tonight we shall go
for a row on the lake, hmm?

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.

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,

�
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.

�
We're going to have a storm again.

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!

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,

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.

"The rivers...

lakes and ocean--"

"The rivers, lakes and ocean.

The tides were in their grave."

"Were in their grave.

�
"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--

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.

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,

It's going.

Happy birthday, Shelley.

Come on. Open it,

Those things are full of stars
and you never know if you are
looking at them or them at you.

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."

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.

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.

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.

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?

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.

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,

The clock had already struck
1:00 in the morning...

and the rain continued
to beat against my window.

Tomorrow, Polidori.
Let me in, Mary.

Say what you have to say to me,
but I cannot answer the door.
You understand?

What are you saying? Polidori?

It is not right to leave the dog outside
the house, Miss Mary.

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,

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!

�

Shall we play...

my Lord?

I have lost...

the game.

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.

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!

Why?

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.
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,

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."

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!

Go away!

It is not good...

to leave the dog...

outside the house,

I don't know. You were late
and I became nervous. I don't know why.

Well, I'm here now.

There, there, Mrs. Shelley.

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,

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.

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?

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.

Mmm.

Voltaire, proibito.

Rousseau, proibito.

Godwin.
No lo conozco.

Poor old Godwin.
� Como dice?

Niente, Niente.

Byron.
Banned.

Banned?
Proibito.

Proibito.
Calderon,

Proibito?

I'm traveling with my wife,
my sister-in-law and two children.

The roads in Italy are hardly safe.

Goldoni.
Godwin, sir.

Godwin, he's my wife's father.

Impossible, sir. He's banned.

Banned?

And how are we today, Fletcher?

Oh, wonderful, your Eminence.

This morning La Fornarina
tried to take my Lord's life.

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.

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!

So, Shelley, can you still not swim?

Do you have a pistol?

Thank you. Excuse me.

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.

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.

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,

Now--

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.
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.

Very well.

Good-bye, Allegra.

Good-bye, Byron.

Halt the coach!
Whoa!

Drive on, Drive on!

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.

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.

Our principles prevent us
from sharing a house...

unless we contribute to the rental,

We'll talk about that
in the morning.

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.

"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.

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!

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.

"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."

It wants to be free.
So we must let it be,

It is only a hat.

Yes, but it does
belong to my husband.

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.

By closing my eyes.
Promise me you'll never do such a thing agai

I promise you I shall
never wear a hat again.

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!

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.

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!

Whoa! Hey! Hey!

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.

This was Mr. Shelley's shot.

He always said you were
capable of equalling it.
We shall see.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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,

Soon, we will be in Greece...

fighting for freedom.

Shelley was the finest of men, Fletcher.

We shall meet...

in Greece, my Lord.

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.