Mary Shelley

by Helen Edmundson

  JANE. Go? But...

  MARY. Don’t be silly, Fanny. Sit down.

  FANNY. I... There’s a coach on the hour. I should be able to catch it if I leave now.

  JANE. But you’ve only just arrived.

  FANNY. Yes. But... it was a mistake... for me to come.

  JANE. Why? Fanny...?

  MARY. Let her go. She clearly can’t bear to spend another moment in this house of iniquity.

  FANNY. That isn’t what...

  MARY. Yes, it is. She has spent too long with Mrs Godwin.

  FANNY. I’m not judging you.

  MARY. Yes you are. You’re judging Jane and you’re judging me. You always have done.

  JANE. Really, Fanny. Surely you’re not so ‘worldly’ that you object to having babies out of wedlock? You were born out of wedlock. Or have you forgotten that?

  FANNY. That’s not what...

  MARY. What then? Just say it. Say what it is you wish to say.

  FANNY. I just wish you would... think about others a little before you act. Think about the effect on others.

  FANNY has tears in her eyes. MARY can see her distress.

  JANE. We can’t spend all our lives thinking about everybody else! In my opinion, the greatest sin in this world is sitting around your whole life and waiting for things to happen. Far too many women do that. Waiting, waiting, hour after hour and day after day.

  FANNY. And that’s what you think I do, I suppose?

  JANE. Yes. Yes, I do.

  FANNY. You don’t think I have dreams and ambitions like you do? You don’t think I want to walk in the sunlight, and write or... paint, or...

  JANE. Well, it doesn’t seem so. Because you don’t do anything.

  MARY. Don’t, Jane. That’s enough.

  JANE. You’re too busy running about, doing as you’re told, trying to keep everyone happy, happy, happy. Well, life isn’t like that.

  FANNY stares down at the floor.

  MARY. Please sit down, Fanny. At least stay tonight. Stay and meet William.

  JANE. You’re Mary Wollstonecraft’s daughter. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?

  FANNY. It means a great deal.

  MARY. Fanny...

  JANE. Well, she wouldn’t look down her nose at us. She wouldn’t judge us. She’d be proud of the way we’re living. Wouldn’t she, Mary?

  SHELLEY enters. He looks at them all with bewildered concern.

  FANNY. I think I should go.

  She takes up her bag and leaves the room.

  Scene Three

  A street, Bath. FANNY and SHELLEY arrive at the place where the coach stops.

  SHELLEY. Ten minutes to spare.

  FANNY. Thank you for walking with me. You should go back now.

  SHELLEY. No. I’ll wait for the coach.

  FANNY. I’d rather be alone. Please.

  SHELLEY. I’m not going to leave you like this.

  FANNY. I’m not fit company. For anyone.

  SHELLEY. Fanny. Fanny, this is madness. Why don’t you come and live with us? Come back to Geneva with us. Whole new worlds, new vistas would open up to you. You don’t realise… I don’t think you realise how trapped you are.

  FANNY. Oh, I do.

  SHELLEY. Then come to us. Leave Godwin and come to us.

  Pause.

  FANNY. In here – (Shows him her bag.) I have a nightdress, and a hairbrush and a change of clothes. I wanted to stay.

  SHELLEY. Then stay.

  FANNY. In all my letters to Geneva, I tried to make it clear… how much I wanted to come to you, to be with you all. It frightened me a little, the thought of it, but I decided to put my fears aside. And every time Mary wrote to me I would hope, hope to see those words – ‘come to us’.

  SHELLEY. And I’m saying them now. Dear Fanny, come to us.

  FANNY. I can’t. Even if I thought that Mary wanted it, I can’t come to you. I can’t live the way you live. I realise that now. Because I don’t think it’s right. There. I’ve said it. You can put me in a box with the reactionaries and the cowards and push us out to sea. People get hurt. Children get hurt. Children grow up feeling unloved, unvalued. Out of place.

  SHELLEY. William won’t feel unloved.

  FANNY. I know that…

  SHELLEY. I will love and care for all my children. I’ve asked Harriet for custody of our son.

  FANNY. And what of Ianthe? Have you asked for her?

  SHELLEY. I…

  FANNY. And why should Harriet have to give up her child?

  SHELLEY. I ask her, repeatedly, to come and join us…

  FANNY. This isn’t… I’m not judging you. I just know that I cannot live as you live. I want you all to be happy.

  SHELLEY. We only have one life, Fanny. We must make use of every second. The powers that be – the rich, the government, society – they do everything they can to close us down, to shackle us… We have to live bravely. We have to strive towards enlightenment. You have so much to offer to the world…

  FANNY. Don’t. Please. I can’t bear any more.

  SHELLEY. Fanny…

  FANNY. I’m tired. Will you go now? Please?

  SHELLEY. What if I went to sit on those steps over there…?

  FANNY. No.

  SHELLEY resigns himself to leaving.

  SHELLEY. I’ll write to you.

  FANNY nods.

  He kisses her hand. He leaves. FANNY remains, staring at the ground, for some time. Then she suddenly picks up her bag, and walks away into the streets.

  Scene Four

  Bath. MARY dreams of FANNY. FANNY is climbing onto the edge of a bridge over a river – just as her mother did. She jumps. She is overwhelmed by the water.

  MARY (calling out). Give me your hand! I’m here! Reach out to me! Reach out to me!

  Scene Five

  A room at an inn in Swansea. Night. A MAID, carrying a candle, shows FANNY into the room. FANNY takes in the simple bed, the small table beside it. She puts her bag down.

  MAID. Will there be anything else, miss?

  FANNY. No, thank you. I shall see to the candle myself.

  MAID (handing her the candle). I’ll bid you goodnight then, miss.

  FANNY hands the MAID a coin.

  Oh. Thank you, miss.

  FANNY. Goodnight.

  The MAID leaves. FANNY stands still.

  In GODWIN’s study at Skinner Street, GODWIN is trying to immerse himself in Shakespeare. MRS GODWIN rushes in. She is holding a letter in her hand.

  MRS GODWIN. A letter from Fanny.

  GODWIN. Are you sure?

  He jumps up and takes the letter.

  Thank heavens.

  He opens it.

  MRS GODWIN. Posted in Bristol.

  GODWIN. Then she isn’t with them.

  MRS GODWIN. What is she doing in Bristol? Do we know anyone in Bristol?

  GODWIN is reading the letter. His legs almost give way beneath him.

  What is it? What does it say?

  GODWIN. No. No.

  In the room at the inn, FANNY places the candle on the small table. She sits down on the bed. She takes off her hat and her jacket, and places them neatly on the end of the bed. She unpins her hair and lets it down.

  In the drawing room in Bath, MARY opens a letter from FANNY. She gasps. SHELLEY enters and goes to her.

  SHELLEY. Mary?

  MARY. Oh, my God. Oh, my God…

  He takes the letter from her and reads.

  SHELLEY. I’ll leave at once.

  MARY. I’m coming with you.

  SHELLEY. No. It will take too long in the carriage. I’ll ride. Help me get my things together.

  He rushes to the door. MARY is rooted to the spot.

  Mary!

  She goes after him.

  In the room at the inn, FANNY opens her bag and takes out a bottle of laudanum. She puts it in her lap. Then she takes out a folded note, and opening it out, reads it quietly.

  FANNY. ‘I have long determined that the best thing I could
do was to put an end to the existence of a being whose birth was unfortunate, and whose life has only been a series of pain to those persons who have hurt their health in endeavouring to promote her welfare. Perhaps to hear of my death will give you pain, but you will soon have the blessing of forgetting that such a creature ever existed as Fanny.’

  She stares at the note for a moment, then folds it again, and places it on the table. Then she takes up the bottle of laudanum, opens it, and drinks from it, in longer and longer draughts.

  She puts it on the table. She blows out the candle. She lies down on the bed, and closes her eyes.

  Scene Six

  Day. The inn at Swansea. The MAID leads SHELLEY to the bedroom.

  MAID. This is the room, sir. The coroner said he would take the body to the poor house if we needed it, but we didn’t like to send her there. She seemed a very sweet lady.

  SHELLEY. Can we go in?

  The MAID leads him into the room. FANNY’s body is on the bed. SHELLEY stares at her.

  MAID. Do you know her, sir? Is she the one you’re looking for?

  SHELLEY picks up the note from the table, and reads it.

  SHELLEY. Who else has seen this note?

  MAID. The coroner. The man from the newspaper.

  SHELLEY tears off the name from it.

  Sir – the coroner said we should leave things just as they are until he comes back…

  SHELLEY gives her a sovereign.

  SHELLEY. I don’t want anyone else to know this name.

  MAID. But it’ll be in the paper tomorrow most likely.

  SHELLEY. I’ll speak to the paper. And to the coroner.

  MAID. Yes, sir. No use in adding to her shame. You know her then? I don’t mean to speak out of turn, sir, but if you do, you should claim her body. Else it’ll be a pauper’s grave. And she’ll not be long in the ground before the robbers come. They always take the ones who no one misses.

  SHELLEY touches FANNY’s face. Then he hurries from the room.

  Scene Seven

  The parlour. Skinner Street. MRS GODWIN accompanies GODWIN into the room. GODWIN has just arrived home. He is ashen-faced and exhausted. He slumps into a chair. He looks up at MRS GODWIN, and shakes his head.

  GODWIN. Too late.

  I got to Bristol and made enquiries. But she’d already left. She’d gone on to Swansea. She went there with her aunts once, do you remember?

  MRS GODWIN. Yes.

  GODWIN. I was going to follow her, but then someone came in on the coach from Swansea with a newspaper. It said the body of a fair-haired young woman had been found.

  She’d left a note. There was no name.

  MRS GODWIN (upset). The stupid girl. Why would she do such a thing?

  GODWIN. I must write to Mary and Shelley.

  MRS GODWIN (surprised). Write to them?

  GODWIN. Yes. I must tell them not to go to Swansea. If this gets out… the scandal would be catastrophic. We must all stay away from Swansea.

  How I wish… she had told me… how she was feeling.

  MRS GODWIN. She was her mother’s daughter. It was in the blood.

  GODWIN. She was a dear… dear girl. Fanny.

  He breaks down in tears. MRS GODWIN kneels beside him and holds him.

  MRS GODWIN. Oh, Mr Godwin. Don’t. Oh, my poor, poor love. My poor love.

  In Bath, MARY is waiting, with the baby in her arms. JANE is standing close by. SHELLEY enters and walks towards MARY. He puts his arms around her. JANE begins to cry.

  SHELLEY. She was buried in a churchyard. It’s a peaceful spot. It was the least that I could do for her.

  JANE comes to them and puts her arms around them as best she can. They are locked in grief.

  End of Act Four.

  ACT FIVE

  Scene One

  The parlour. Skinner Street. MRS GODWIN leads SHELLEY into the room. SHELLEY looks pale and serious.

  MRS GODWIN. Please come in.

  Please sit down. Would you care for some tea?

  SHELLEY. No, thank you.

  SHELLEY looks about the room. It is over two years since he has been here. FANNY’s shawl is lying on the back of a chair.

  MRS GODWIN. I was very sorry to hear about your wife, Mr Shelley. A terrible affair. And coming so soon after Fanny.

  SHELLEY. Yes.

  MRS GODWIN. The Serpentine. A public park. Such a strange place to drown oneself. I said to Mr Godwin, I wouldn’t have thought there would be sufficient water.

  And she was pregnant, they say.

  SHELLEY. Yes. I believe so.

  MRS GODWIN. Do you know who the father was?

  SHELLEY. No. She was living with an army officer, I believe. Or had been.

  MRS GODWIN. Well. It doesn’t matter now, does it? Another feckless young man, I dare say, who thought nothing of… She must have been quite desperate. Very sad.

  SHELLEY. Is Mr Godwin going to see me?

  MRS GODWIN. Yes. Yes, I believe he is. I’ll ask him to come through. (Going towards the study.) He’s writing another novel, you know? We have high hopes of it.

  (Pausing.) How’s my Jane?

  SHELLEY. She’s… she’s well. She’s quite well.

  MRS GODWIN goes into the study. SHELLEY takes a deep breath to steady himself. He stands and moves about the room. He goes to the chair, and runs his hand over FANNY’s shawl.

  GODWIN enters with MRS GODWIN. The two men look at each other for some time.

  Godwin.

  GODWIN. Shelley.

  Pause.

  SHELLEY. I hardly know what to say. It’s been a long time.

  GODWIN. Yes.

  I was sorry to hear about your wife. About Harriet.

  SHELLEY. Thank you.

  MRS GODWIN. We have just been discussing that. He doesn’t know who the father was.

  GODWIN. Shelley, I want to thank you, for the letter you wrote to me after Fanny’s death. I know I replied rather harshly at the time. I know I said that I could not use your sympathy, but… on reflection… your words meant a great deal to me.

  And I want to thank you for your discretion. And for seeing her buried.

  SHELLEY. She asked me to bury her. In the letter she sent before she died.

  GODWIN. Did she?

  SHELLEY. It was all done anonymously.

  GODWIN. Yes. No one else knows what happened. If people ask after her, I say that she died of a fever, on her way to see her aunts in Ireland. I think that is best.

  SHELLEY. I understand.

  Godwin, I’ve come to tell you that I have asked Mary… to marry me.

  MRS GODWIN. Oh! Oh, that is good news. Isn’t it, Mr Godwin? And after everything that’s happened.

  SHELLEY. My views on marriage have not altered. But I am fighting for custody of my two children by Harriet. Her family wish to keep them. I stand little chance of prevailing, if my situation with Mary remains unchanged. And financially, our marriage offers her greater assurance. It is what the law demands, it seems, and so I have decided that I must…

  GODWIN. Compromise.

  SHELLEY. Yes. On this occasion. Until the law catches up with mankind.

  Pause.

  MRS GODWIN. Well, that’s very good news. Not quite romantic, perhaps, but we are all realists here, I think. Isn’t it good news, Mr Godwin?

  GODWIN. When shall you be married?

  SHELLEY. Soon. At Christmas. We can see no advantage in delay.

  Godwin, will you consider attending our wedding?

  GODWIN. Yes. I should be delighted.

  Scene Two

  Day. The vestry of a church. MARY is waiting. SHELLEY enters.

  SHELLEY. He’s here.

  She nods.

  Shall we go through?

  MARY. No. I have to talk to him. I can’t just go in there and take his hand and speak my vows in front of him. Will you ask him to come to me?

  SHELLEY. Yes.

  MARY. I’m sorry. If you could wait…?

  SHELLEY. Of course. I wil
l always be waiting for you, Mary.

  He kisses her and leaves. MARY waits anxiously. After a moment, GODWIN enters. Their eyes meet.

  GODWIN. New dress?

  MARY. Yes.

  GODWIN. Very pretty.

  He approaches her. When he reaches her, he isn’t sure what to do. He taps her arm, awkwardly, and then moves some distance away from her.

  Quite a day, then.

  MARY. Yes.

  GODWIN. I’ve just been introduced to my grandson. William. Named for me, I assume?

  MARY. Yes. Who else?

  GODWIN. He’s a fine little chap. Looks like an angel, truth be told.

  MARY. He’s not an angel. He can be diabolical at times. But we forgive him. We always forgive him.

  GODWIN. Yes. I hope you will allow me to become acquainted with him.

  MARY. I hope you will.

  Pause.

  GODWIN. How is your work coming along?

  MARY. Very well. I’ve written a novel. It’s almost finished.

  GODWIN. A novel, eh?

  MARY. I’m going to start looking for a publisher.

  GODWIN. And what is your novel about?

  MARY. It’s about… about a man who is… driven, consumed by the desire to explore the very limits of his powers… of science, of knowledge. He creates a creature… from the parts of other humans. A living being. But when he has created it, he finds he cannot countenance its needs – its need for love, companionship, respect, its whole monstrous reality. It pursues him, across mountains and seas. Across the wide world. They come to hate each other.

  I thought of you a lot, while I was writing. All your ideas about… humanity, they have all been there to draw upon. If I ever doubted how much I’ve learned from you, I do not doubt it now.

  GODWIN. And I am the monstrous creator, I suppose?

  MARY. I don’t know. Perhaps. And which am I?

  GODWIN. I should like to read it.

  MARY. I’d like that.

  GODWIN. I cannot promise to be kind, of course.

  MARY. Of course.

  Pause.

  GODWIN. I’ve missed you, Mary.

  Pause.

  MARY. Do you ever think it is a curse – this passion of the mind? This inability to leave the world unfathomed? Because I fear it might be. When I think of Fanny… of how little time I gave to her… how little account I took of her…

  GODWIN. Fanny was not strong. She was exceptionally sensitive. I doubt she…