SHELLEY'S NOTES TO EDIPUS TYRANNUS. Nor with less toil were their foundations laid. See Universal History for an account of the number of people who died, and the immense consumption of garlic by the wretched Egyptians who made a sepulchre for the name as well as the bodies of their tyrants. P. 281. The Gadfly was the same which Juno sent To agitate Io. The Prometheus Bound of Eschylus. P. 281. And which Ezekiel mentions That the Lord whistled-for out of the mountains. "And the Lord whistled for the gadfly out of Ethiopia, and for the bee out of Egypt," &c.-Ezekiel. P. 283. And married her to the Gallows. "Unless a man would marry a gallows, and beget young gibbets, I never saw one so prone."-Cymbeline. P. 294. Erin's laureate sings it. "Rich and rare were the gems she wore." See MOORE'S Irish Melodies. NOTE ON EDIPUS TYRANNUS, BY MRS. SHELLEY. IN the brief journal I kept in those days, I find recorded, in August 1820, Shelley "begins Swellfoot the Tyrant, suggested by the pigs at the fair of San Giuliano." This was the period of Queen Caroline's landing in England, and the struggles made by George IV. to get rid of her claims; which failing, Lord Castlereagh placed the "Green Bag" on the table of the House of Commons, demanding in the King's name that an enquiry should be instituted into his wife's conduct. These circumstances were the theme of all conversation among the English. We were then at the Baths of San Giuliano. A friend came to visit us on the day when a fair was held in the square beneath our windows : Shelley read to us his Ode to Liberty; and was riotously accompanied by the grunting of a quantity of pigs brought for sale to the fair. He compared it to the "chorus of frogs" in the satiric drama of Aristophanes; and, it being an hour of merriment, and one ludicrous association suggesting another, he imagined a political-satirical drama on the circumstances of the day, to which the pigs would serve as chorus-and Swellfoot was begun. When finished, it was transmitted to England, printed, and published anonymously; but stifled at the very dawn of its existence by the Society for the Suppression of Vice, who threatened to prosecute it, if not immediately withdrawn. The friend who had taken the trouble of bringing it out, of course, did not think it worth the annoyance and expense of a contest, and it was laid aside. Hesitation of whether it would do honour to Shelley prevented my publishing it at first. But I cannot bring myself to keep back anything he ever wrote; for each word is fraught with the peculiar views and sentiments which he believed to be beneficial to the human race, and the bright light of poetry irradiates every thought. The world has a right to the entire compositions of such a man; for it does not live and thrive by the outworn lesson of the dullard or the hypocrite, but by the original free thoughts of men of genius, who aspire to pluck bright Truth "from the pale-faced moon; Or dive into the bottom of the deep Where fathom-line could never touch the ground, Truth. Even those who may dissent from his opinions will consider that he was a man of genius, and that the world will take more interest in his slightest word than from the waters of Lethe which are so eagerly prescribed as medicinal for all its wrongs and woes. This drama, however, must not be judged for more than was meant. It is a mere plaything of the imagination; which even may not excite smiles among many, who will not see wit in those combinations of thought which were full of the ridiculous to the author. But, like everything he wrote, it breathes that deep sympathy for the sorrows of humanity, and indignation against its oppressors, which make it worthy of his name. THE SENSITIVE PLANT. PART I. I. A SENSITIVE PLANT in a garden grew ; II. And the Spring arose on the garden fair, Like the Spirit of Love felt everywhere; And each flower and herb on earth's dark breast Rose from the dreams of its wintry rest. III. But none ever trembled and panted with bliss In the garden, the field, or the wilderness, Like a doe in the noontide with love's sweet want, As the companionless Sensitive Plant. IV. The snowdrop, and then the violet, Arose from the ground with warm rain wet ; And their breath was mixed with fresh odour sent From the turf, like the voice and the instrument. V. Then the pied wind-flowers and the tulip tall, VI. And the Naiad-like lily of the vale, Whom youth makes so fair, and passion so pale, That the light of its tremulous bells is seen Through their pavilions of tender green; VII. And the hyacinth, purple, and white, and blue, It was felt like an odour within the sense; VIII. And the rose, like a nymph to the bath addressed, IX. And the wand-like lily, which lifted up, As a Mænad, its moonlight-coloured cup, Gazed through clear dew on the tender sky ; X. And the jessamine faint, and the sweet tuberose The sweetest flower for scent that blows And all rare blossoms from every clime, Grew in that garden in perfect prime. XI. And on the stream whose inconstant bosom Was pranked under boughs of embowering blossom, With golden and green light slanting through Their heaven of many a tangled hue, XII. Broad water-lilies lay tremulously, And starry river-buds glimmered by; And around them the soft stream did glide and dance With a motion of sweet sound and radiance. XIII. And the sinuous paths of lawn and of moss Some lost among bowers of blossoming trees, XIV. Were all paved with daisies and delicate bells And flowrets which, drooping as day drooped too, To roof the glow-worm from the evening dew. XV. And from this undefiled paradise The flowers (as an infant's awakening eyes XVI. When heaven's blithe winds had unfolded them As mine-lamps enkindle a hidden gem, Shone smiling to heaven, and every one XVII. For each one was interpenetrated With the light and the odour its neighbour shed, XVIII. But the Sensitive Plant, which could give small fruit XIX. For the Sensitive Plant has no bright flower ; It loves even like Love,-its deep heart is full; XX. The light winds which from unsustaining wings 20 |