entirely on the question as to whether any such a thing as incest in this shape, however treated, would be admitted on the stage.  I think, however, it will form no objection; considering, first, that the facts are matter of history, and, secondly, the peculiar delicacy with which I have treated it. (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.)

’I am exceedingly interested in the question of whether this attempt of mine will succeed or not.  I am strongly inclined to the affirmative at present; founding my hopes on this—­that, as a composition, it is certainly not inferior to any of the modern plays that have been acted, with the exception of “Remorse”; that the interest of the plot is incredibly greater and more real; and that there is nothing beyond what the multitude are contented to believe that they can understand, either in imagery, opinion, or sentiment.  I wish to preserve a complete incognito, and can trust to you that, whatever else you do, you will at least favour me on this point.  Indeed, this is essential, deeply essential, to its success.  After it had been acted, and successfully (could I hope for such a thing), I would own it if I pleased, and use the celebrity it might acquire to my own purposes.

’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 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.  Writing 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