being of such fastidious taste that he was easily disgusted by the bad filling-up of the inferior parts. While preparing for our departure from England, however, he saw Miss O'Neil several times. She was then in the zenith of her glory; and Shelley was deeply moved by her impersonation of several parts, and by the graceful sweetness, the intense pathos, and sublime vehemence of pasShe was sion she displayed. often in his thoughts as he wrote: and, when he had finished, he became anxious that his tragedy should be acted, and receive the advantage of having this accomplished actress to fill the part of the heroine. With this view he wrote the following letter to a friend in London: "The object of the present letter is to ask a favour of you. I have written a tragedy on a story well known in Italy, and, in my conception, eminently dramatic. I have taken some pains to make my play fit for representation, and those who have already seen it judge favourably. It is written without any of the peculiar feelings and opinions which characterize my other compositions; I have attended simply to the impartial development of such characters as it is probable the persons represented really were, together with the greatest degree of popular effect to be produced by such a development. I send you a translation of the Italian MS. on which my play is founded; the chief circumstance of which I have touched very delicately; for my principal doubt as whether it would succeed as an acting play hangs entirely on the question as to whether any such a thing as incest in this shape, however treated, would be ad to mitted on the stage. I think, 'I am exceedingly interested 'What I want you to do is to procure for me its presentation at Covent Garden. The principal character, Beatrice, is precisely fitted for Miss O'Neil, and it might 1 In speaking of his mode of treating this main incident, Shelley said that it might be remarked that, in the course of the play, he had never mentioned expressly Cenci's worst crime. Every one knew what it must be, but it was never imaged in words-the nearest allusion to it being that portion of Cenci's curse beginning 'That, if she have a child,' etc. even seem to have been written for her (God forbid that I should see her play it-it would tear my nerves to pieces); and in all respects it is fitted only for Covent Garden. The chief male character I confess I should be very unwilling that any one but Kean should play. That is impossible, and I must be contented with an inferior actor.' The play was accordingly sent to Mr. Harris. He pronounced the subject to be so objectionable that he could not even submit the part to Miss O'Neil for perusal, but expressed his desire that the author would write a tragedy on some other subject, which he would gladly accept. Shelley printed a small edition at Leghorn, to ensure its correctness; as he was much annoyed by the many mistakes that crept into his text when distance prevented him from correcting the press. Universal approbation soon stamped The Cenci as the best tragedy of modern times. Writ ing concerning it, Shelley said: 'I have been cautious to avoid the introducing faults of youthful composition; diffuseness, a profusion of inapplicable imagery, vagueness, generality, and, as Hamlet says, words, words.' There is nothing that is not purely dramatic throughout; and the character of Beatrice, proceeding, from vehement struggle, to horror, to deadly resolution, and lastly to the elevated dignity of calm suffering, joined to passionate tenderness and pathos, is It is touched with hues so vivid and so beautiful that the poet seems to have read intimately the secrets of the noble heart imaged in the lovely countenance of the unfortunate girl. The Fifth Act is a masterpiece. It is the finest thing he ever wrote, and may claim proud comparison not only with any contemporary, but preceding, poet. The varying feelings of Beatrice are expressed with passionate, heart-reaching eloquence. Every character has a voice that echoes truth in its tones. curious, to one acquainted with the written story, to mark the success with which the poet has inwoven the real incidents of the tragedy into his scenes, and yet, through the power of poetry, has obliterated all that would otherwise have shown too harsh or too hideous in the picture. His success was a double triumph; and often after he was earnestly entreated to write again in a style that commanded popular favour, while it was not less instinct with truth and genius. But the bent of his mind went the other way; and, even when employed on subjects whose interest depended on character and incident, he would start off in another direction, and leave the delineations of human passion, which he could depict in so able a manner, for fantastic creations of his fancy, or the expression of those opinions and sentiments, with regard to human nature and its destiny, a desire to diffuse which was the master passion of his soul. WRITTEN ON THE OCCASION OF THE MASSACRE AT MANCHESTER [Composed at the Villa Valsovano near Leghorn- or possibly later, during Shelley's sojourn at Florence-in the autumn of 1819, shortly after the Peterloo riot at Manchester, August 16; edited with Preface by Leigh Hunt, and published under the poet's name by Edward Moxon, 1832 (Bradbury & Evans, printers). Two MSS. are extant: a transcript by Mrs. Shelley with Shelley's autograph corrections, known as the 'Hunt MS.'; and an earlier draft, not quite complete, in the poet's handwriting, presented by Mrs. Shelley to (Sir) John Bowring in 1826, and now in the possession of Mr. Thomas J. Wise (the 'Wise MS.'). Mrs. Shelley's copy was sent to Leigh Hunt in 1819 with a view to its publication in The Examiner; hence the name Hunt MS.' A facsimile of the Wise MS. was published by the Shelley Society in 1887. Sources of the text are (1) the Hunt MS.; (2) the Wise MS.; (3) the editio princeps, ed. Leigh Hunt, 1832; (4) Mrs. Shelley's two edd. (Poetical Works) of 1839. Of the two MSS. Mrs. Shelley's transcript is the later and more authoritative.] Thinking every tear a gem, VI Clothed with the Bible, as with light, VII 25 And many more Destructions played All disguised, even to the eyes, VIII 30 Last came Anarchy: he rode He was pale even to the lips, IX And he wore a kingly crown; And in his grasp a sceptre shone; 35 On his brow this mark I saw'I AM GOD, AND KING, AND LAW!' ermined Hunt MS., Wise 23 shadows] shadow edd. 1839 only. 29 or] and And the little children, who 15 Like Eldon Hunt MS.; Like Lord Eldon Wise MS. 35 And in his grasp Hunt MS., ed. 1832; In his hand Wise MS., 36 On his] And on his ed. 1832 only. Hunt MS. cancelled, ed. 1839. Then she lay down in the street, 95 100 51 the Hunt MS., ed. 1832; that Wise MS. 56 tempestuous] tremendous edd. 1889 only. 58 For with pomp] For from... Hunt MS., Wise MS. 71 God] Law edd. 1839 only. 79 rightly Wise MS.; nightly Hunt MS., edd. 1832, 1839. 93 Fumbling] Trembling edd. 1839 only. 105 a vale Hunt MS., Wise MS. ; the vale edd. 1832, 1839. 1839 only. 116 its Wise MS., Hunt MS.; it edd. 1832, 1839. and Hunt MS., edd. 1882, 1839. 155 113 as] like edd. 121 but Wise MS.; 122 May's footstep Wise MS., Hunt MS.; the 146 had footstep ed. 1832; May's footsteps edd. 1839. 132-4 omit Wise MS. 155 omit ed. 1832 only. |