Mathilda (16 page)

[65] This entire paragraph is added to
F of F--B
; it is in rough draft in
S-R fr
.

[66] This is changed in the MS of
Mathilda
from "a violent thunderstorm." Evidently Mary decided to avoid using another thunderstorm at a crisis in the story.

[67] The passage "It is true ... I will" is on a slip of paper pasted across the page.

[68] In the revision from
F of F--B
the style of this whole episode becomes more concise and specific.

[69] An improvement over the awkward phrasing in
F of F--B
: "a friend who will not repulse my request that he would accompany me."

[70] These two paragraphs are not in
F of F--B
; portions of them are in
S-R fr
.

[71] This speech is greatly improved in style over that in
F of F--B
, more concise in expression (though somewhat expanded), more specific. There are no corresponding
S-R fr
to show the process of revision. With the ideas expressed here cf. Shelley,
Julian and Maddalo
, ll. 182-187, 494-499, and his letter to Claire in November, 1820 (Julian
Works
, X, 226). See also White,
Shelley
, II, 378.

[72] This solecism, copied from
F of F--B
, is not characteristic of Mary Shelley.

[73] This paragraph prepares for the eventual softening of Mathilda's feeling. The idea is somewhat elaborated from
F of F--B
. Other changes are necessitated by the change in the mode of presenting the story. In
The Fields of Fancy
Mathilda speaks as one who has already died.

[74] Cf. Shelley's emphasis on hope and its association with love in all his work. When Mary wrote
Mathilda
she knew
Queen Mab
(see

Intellectual Beauty, and the first three acts of
Prometheus Unbound
. The fourth act was written in the winter of 1819, but Demogorgon's words may already have been at least adumbrated before the beginning of November:

To love and bear, to hope till hope creates From its own wreck the thing it contemplates.

[75] Shelley had written, "Desolation is a delicate thing" (
Prometheus Unbound
, Act I, l. 772) and called the Spirit of the Earth "a delicate spirit" (
Ibid.
, Act III, Sc. iv, l. 6).

[76]
Purgatorio
, Canto 28, ll. 31-33. Perhaps by this time Shelley had translated ll. 1-51 of this canto. He had read the
Purgatorio
in April, 1818, and again with Mary in August, 1819, just as she was beginning to write
Mathilda
. Shelley showed his translation to Medwin in 1820, but there seems to be no record of the date of composition.

[77] An air with this title was published about 1800 in London by Robert Birchall. See
Catalogue of Printed Music Published between 1487 and 1800 and now in the British Museum
, by W. Barclay Squire, 1912. Neither author nor composer is listed in the
Catalogue
.

[78] This paragraph is materially changed from
F of F--B
. Clouds and darkness are substituted for starlight, silence for the sound of the wind. The weather here matches Mathilda's mood. Four and a half lines of verse (which I have not been able to identify, though they sound Shelleyan--are they Mary's own?) are omitted: of the stars she says,

the wind is in the tree But they are silent;--still they roll along Immeasurably distant; & the vault Built round by those white clouds, enormous clouds Still deepens its unfathomable depth.

[79] If Mary quotes Coleridge's
Ancient Mariner
intentionally here, she is ironic, for this is no merciful rain, except for the fact that it brings on the illness which leads to Mathilda's death, for which she longs.

[80] This quotation from
Christabel
(which suggests that the preceding echo is intentional) is not in
F of F--B
.

[81] Cf. the description which opens
Mathilda
.

[82] Among Lord Abinger's papers, in Mary's hand, are some comparable (but very bad) fragmentary verses addressed to Mother Earth.

[83] At this point four sheets are cut out of the notebook. They are evidently those with pages numbered 217 to 223 which are among the
S-R fr
. They contain the conclusion of the story, ending, as does
F of F--B
with Mathilda's words spoken to Diotima in the Elysian Fields: "I am here, not with my father, but listening to lessons of wisdom, which will one day bring me to him when we shall never part. THE END." Some passages are scored out, but not this final sentence. Tenses are changed from past to future. The name
Herbert
is changed to
Woodville
. The explanation must be that Mary was hurrying to finish the revision (quite drastic on these final pages) and the transcription of her story before her confinement, and that in her haste she copied the pages from
F of F--B
as they stood. Then, realizing that they did not fit
Mathilda
, she began to revise them; but to keep her MS neat, she cut out these pages and wrote the fair copy. There is no break in
Mathilda
in story or in pagination. This fair copy also shows signs of haste: slips of the pen, repetition of words, a number of unimportant revisions.

[84] Here in
F of F--B
there is an index number which evidently points to a note at the bottom of the next page. The note is omitted in
Mathilda
. It reads:

"Dante in his Purgatorio describes a grifon as remaining unchanged but his reflection in the eyes of Beatrice as perpetually varying (Purg. Cant. 31) So nature is ever the same but seen differently by almost every spectator and even by the same at various times. All minds, as mirrors, receive her forms--yet in each mirror the shapes apparently reflected vary & are perpetually changing--"

[85] See note 20. Mary Shelley had suffered this torture when Clara and William died.

[86] See the end of Chapter V.

[87] This sentence is not in
F of F--B
or in
S-R fr
.

THE FIELDS OF FANCY[88]

It was in Rome--the Queen of the World that I suffered a misfortune that reduced me to misery & despair[89]--The bright sun & deep azure sky were oppressive but nought was so hateful as the voice of Man--I loved to walk by the shores of the Tiber which were solitary & if the sirocco blew to see the swift clouds pass over St. Peters and the many domes of Rome or if the sun shone I turned my eyes from the sky whose light was too dazzling & gay to be reflected in my tearful eyes I turned them to the river whose swift course was as the speedy departure of happiness and whose turbid colour was gloomy as grief--

Whether I slept I know not or whether it was in one of those many hours which I spent seated on the ground my mind a chaos of despair & my eyes for ever wet by tears but I was here visited by a lovely spirit whom I have ever worshiped & who tried to repay my adoration by diverting my mind from the hideous memories that racked it. At first indeed this wanton spirit played a false part & appearing with sable wings & gloomy countenance seemed to take a pleasure in exagerating all my miseries--and as small hopes arose to snatch them from me & give me in their place gigantic fears which under her fairy hand appeared close, impending & unavoidable--sometimes she would cruelly leave me while I was thus on the verge of madness and without consoling me leave me nought but heavy leaden sleep--but at other times she would wilily link less unpleasing thoughts to these most dreadful ones & before I was aware place hopes before me--futile but consoling[90]--

One day this lovely spirit--whose name as she told me was Fantasia came to me in one of her consolotary moods--her wings which seemed coloured by her tone of mind were not gay but beautiful like that of the partridge & her lovely eyes although they ever burned with an unquenshable fire were shaded & softened by her heavy lids & the black long fringe of her eye lashes--She thus addressed me--You mourn for the loss of those you love. They are gone for ever & great as my power is I cannot recall them to you--if indeed I wave my wand over you you will fancy that you feel their gentle spirits in the soft air that steals over your cheeks & the distant sound of winds & waters may image to you their voices which will bid you rejoice for that they live--This will not take away your grief but you will shed sweeter tears than those which full of anguish & hopelessness now start from your eyes--This I can do & also can I take you to see many of my provinces my fairy lands which you have not yet visited and whose beauty will while away the heavy time--I have many lovely spots under my command which poets of old have visited and have seen those sights the relation of which has been as a revelation to the world--many spots I have still in keeping of lovely fields or horrid rocks peopled by the beautiful or the tremendous which I keep in reserve for my future worshippers--to one of those whose grim terrors frightened sleep from the eye I formerly led you[91] but you now need more pleasing images & although I will not promise you to shew you any new scenes yet if I lead you to one often visited by my followers you will at least see new combinations that will sooth if they do not delight you--Follow me--

Alas! I replied--when have you found me slow to obey your voice--some times indeed I have called you & you have not come--but when before have I not followed your slightest sign and have left what was either of joy or sorrow in our world to dwell with you in yours till you have dismissed me ever unwilling to depart--But now the weight of grief that oppresses me takes from me that lightness which is necessary to follow your quick & winged motions alas in the midst of my course one thought would make me droop to the ground while you would outspeed me to your Kingdom of Glory & leave me here darkling

Ungrateful! replied the Spirit Do I not tell you that I will sustain & console you My wings shall aid your heavy steps & I will command my winds to disperse the mist that over casts you--I will lead you to a place where you will not hear laughter that disturbs you or see the sun that dazzles you--We will choose some of the most sombre walks of the Elysian fields--

The Elysian fields--I exclaimed with a quick scream--shall I then see? I gasped & could not ask that which I longed to know--the friendly spirit replied more gravely--I have told you that you will not see those whom you mourn--But I must away--follow me or I must leave you weeping deserted by the spirit that now checks your tears--

Go--I replied I cannot follow--I can only sit here & grieve--& long to see those who are gone for ever for to nought but what has relation to them can I listen--

The spirit left me to groan & weep to wish the sun quenched in eternal darkness--to accuse the air the waters all--all the universe of my utter & irremediable misery--Fantasia came again and ever when she came tempted me to follow her but as to follow her was to leave for a while the thought of those loved ones whose memories were my all although they were my torment I dared not go--Stay with me I cried & help me to clothe my bitter thoughts in lovelier colours give me hope although fallacious & images of what has been although it never will be again--diversion I cannot take cruel fairy do you leave me alas all my joy fades at thy departure but I may not follow thee--

One day after one of these combats when the spirit had left me I wandered on along the banks of the river to try to disperse the excessive misery that I felt untill overcome by fatigue--my eyes weighed down by tears--I lay down under the shade of trees & fell asleep--I slept long and when I awoke I knew not where I was--I did not see the river or the distant city--but I lay beside a lovely fountain shadowed over by willows & surrounded by blooming myrtles--at a short distance the air seemed pierced by the spiry pines & cypresses and the ground was covered by short moss & sweet smelling heath--the sky was blue but not dazzling like that of Rome and on every side I saw long allies--clusters of trees with intervening lawns & gently stealing rivers--Where am I? [I] exclaimed--& looking around me I beheld Fantasia--She smiled & as she smiled all the enchanting scene appeared lovelier--rainbows played in the fountain & the heath flowers at our feet appeared as if just refreshed by dew--I have seized you, said she--as you slept and will for some little time retain you as my prisoner--I will introduce you to some of the inhabitants of these peaceful Gardens--It shall not be to any whose exuberant happiness will form an u[n]pleasing contrast with your heavy grief but it shall be to those whose chief care here is to acquired knowledged [
sic
] & virtue--or to those who having just escaped from care & pain have not yet recovered full sense of enjoyment--This part of these Elysian Gardens is devoted to those who as before in your world wished to become wise & virtuous by study & action here endeavour after the same ends by contemplation--They are still unknowing of their final destination but they have a clear knowledge of what on earth is only supposed by some which is that their happiness now & hereafter depends upon their intellectual improvement--Nor do they only study the forms of this universe but search deeply in their own minds and love to meet & converse on all those high subjects of which the philosophers of Athens loved to treat--With deep feelings but with no outward circumstances to excite their passions you will perhaps imagine that their life is uniform & dull--but these sages are of that disposition fitted to find wisdom in every thing & in every lovely colour or form ideas that excite their love--Besides many years are consumed before they arrive here--When a soul longing for knowledge & pining at its narrow conceptions escapes from your earth many spirits wait to receive it and to open its eyes to the mysteries of the universe--many centuries are often consumed in these travels and they at last retire here to digest their knowledge & to become still wiser by thought and imagination working upon memory [92]--When the fitting period is accomplished they leave this garden to inhabit another world fitted for the reception of beings almost infinitely wise--but what this world is neither can you conceive or I teach you--some of the spirits whom you will see here are yet unknowing in the secrets of nature--They are those whom care & sorrow have consumed on earth & whose hearts although active in virtue have been shut through suffering from knowledge--These spend sometime here to recover their equanimity & to get a thirst of knowledge from converse with their wiser companions--They now securely hope to see again those whom they love & know that it is ignorance alone that detains them from them. As for those who in your world knew not the loveliness of benevolence & justice they are placed apart some claimed by the evil spirit & in vain sought for by the good but She whose delight is to reform the wicked takes all she can & delivers them to her ministers not to be punished but to be exercised & instructed untill acquiring a love of virtue they are fitted for these gardens where they will acquire a love of knowledge