Bride of Frankenstein (1935)
Elsa Lanchester: Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley, The Monster's Mate
Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley : It's a perfect night for mystery and horror. The air itself is filled with monsters.
Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley : An audience needs something stronger than a pretty little love story. So, why shouldn't I write of monsters?
[Lord Byron looking out the window at a thunderstorm]
Lord Byron : How beautifully dramatic! The cruelest savage exhibition of nature at her worst without.
[turns to face Mary and Percy Shelley, both seated]
Lord Byron : And we three. We elegant three within. I should like to think that an irate Jehovah was pointing those arrows of lightning directly at my head. The unbowed head of George Gordon, Lord Byron. England's greatest sinner. But I cannot flatter myself to that extent. Possibly those thunders are for our dear Shelley. Heavens applause for England's greatest poet.
Percy Bysshe Shelley : What of my Mary?
Lord Byron : She's an angel.
Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley : You think so?