Shelley wished “The Cenci” to be acted.  He was not a playgoer, 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, the sublime vehemence of passion she displayed.  She was 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 us 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 manuscript on which my play is founded; the chief circumstance of which I have touched very delicately; for my principal doubt as to 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 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.