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been;

Goddess bare, and gaunt, and pale, Could scarcely disagree.
Empress of the world, all hail!

Swellfoot.

After the trial, What though Cretans old called thee | And these fastidious pigs are gone, City-crested Cybele?

perhaps We call thee FAMINE!

I may recover my lost appetite,Goddess of fasts and feasts, starving and I feel the gout flying about my cramming!

stomachThrough thee, for emperors, kings, and Give me a glass of Maraschino punch. priests and lords,

Purganax (filling his glass, and standWho rule by viziers, sceptres, banknotes, ing up). The glorious constituwords,

tion of the Pigs ! The earth pours forth its plenteous All. A toast! a toast! stand up and fruits,

three times three ! Corn, wool, linen, flesh, and roots- Dakry. No heel-taps-darken day. Those who consume these fruits thro'

lights !thee grow fat,

Laoctonos, Claret, somehow, Those who produce these fruits thro' Puts me in mind of blood, and blood thee grow lean,

of claret ! Whatever change takes place, oh, stick Swellfoot. Laoctonos is fishing for a to that!

compliment, And let things be as they have ever But 'tis his due. Yes, you have drunk

more wine,
At least while we remain thy priests, And shed more blood than any man in
And proclaim thy fasts and feasts !

Thebes.
Through thee the sacred SWELLFOOT

[To PURGANAX. dynasty

For God's sake stop the giunting of Is based upon a rock amid that sea

those pigs !
Whose waves are swine--so let it ever be ! Purganax. We dare not, Sire, 'tis

Famine's privilege.
[SWELLFOOT, etc., seat themselves at a
table magnificently covered at the

Chorus of Swine.
upper end of the temple. Attendants

Ilail to thee, hail to thee, Famine ! pass over the stage with hog-wash in

Thy throne is on blood, and thy

robe is of rags ; pails. A number of pigs, exceedingly

Thou devil which livest on damning; lean, follow them licking up the wash.

Saint of new churches, and cant, Mammon. . I fear your sacred Majesty and GREEN BAGS, has lost

Till in pity and terror thou risest, The appetite which you were used to Consounding the schemes of the have.

wisest, Allow me now to recommend this dish- When thou liftest thy skeleton form, A simple kickshaw by your Persian cook, When the loaves and the skulls Such as is served at the great King's roll about, second table.

We will greet thee — the voice of a The price and pains which its ingredients

storm cost,

Would be lost in our terrible shout! Might have maintained some dozen families

Then hail to thee, hail to thee, A winter or two—not more-so plain

Famine! a dish

Hail to thee, Empress of Earth!

sions ;

When thou risest, dividing posses. [A graceful figure in a semi-transparent

veil passes unnoticed through the When thou risest, uprooting oppres- Temple; the word LIBERTY is seen sions;

through the veil, as if it were written In the pride of thy ghastly mirth. in fire upon its forehead. Its word's Over palaces, temples, and graves, are almost drowned in the furious We will rush as thy minister-slaves, grunting of the Pigs, and the business Trampling behind in thy train,

of the trial. She kneels on the steps Till all be made level again!

of the Altar, and speaks in tones at Mammon. I hear a crackling of the first faint and low, but which ever giant bones

become louder and louder. Of the dread image, and in the black pits Mighty Empress ! Death's white wife ! Which once were eyes, I see two livid Ghastly mother-in-law of life! flames.

By the God who made thee such, These prodigies are oracular, and show By the magic of thy touch, The presence of the unseen Deity. By the starving and the cramming, Mighty events are hastening to their or fasts and feasts! by thy dread self, doom !

O Famine! Swellfoot. I only hear the lean and I charge thee! when thou wake the mutinous swine

multitude Grunting about the temple.

Thou lead them not upon the paths of Dakry.

In a crisis

blood Of such exceeding delicacy, I think The earth did never mean her foison We ought to put her Majesty, the For those who crown life's cup with QUEEN,

poison Upon her trial without delay.

Of fanatic rage and meaningless reMammon.

TIIE BAG

vengeIs here.

But for those radiant spirits, who are Purganax. I have rehearsed

still the entire scene

The standard - bearers in the van of With an ox bladder and some ditch

Change. water,

Be they th' appointed stewards, to fill On Lady P. it cannot fail. (Taking The lap of Pain, and Toil, and Age ! up the bag.) Your Majesty Remit, O Queen! thy accustomed rage!

[To SWELLFOOT. Be what thou art not! In voice faint In such a filthy business had better

and low Stand on one side, lest it should sprinkle FREEDOM calls Famine, --- her eternal you,

foe, A spot or two on me would do no harm, To brief alliance, hollow truce.-Rise Nay, it might hide the blood, which

now! the sad genius

[Whilst the Veiled Figure has been chaunt. of the Green Isle has fixed, as by a spell, ing this strophe, MAMMON, DAKRY, Upon my brow—which would stain all LAOCTONOS, and SWELLFOOT, have

surrounded IONA TAURINA, who, But which those seas could never wash with her haniis folded on her breast, away!

and her eyes lifted to Heaven, stands, Iona Taurina, My Lord, I am ready as with saint - like resignation, to --nay, I am impatient

wait the issue of the business, in To undergo the test.

perfect corifidence of her innocence.

its seas,

your cries

[PURGANAX, after unsealing the GREEN These stinking foxes, these devouring

BAG, is gravely about to pour the otters, liquor upon her head, when suddenly These hares, these wolves, these anythe whole expression of her figure and thing but men. countenance changes; she snatches it Iley, for a whipper-in! my loyal pigs, from his hand with a loud laugh of Now let your noses be as keen as triumph, and empties it over Swell- beagles, Foor and his whole Court, who are your steps as swist as greyhounds, and instantly changed into a number of filthy and ugly animals, and rush out More dulcet and symphonious than the of the Temple. The image of FAMINE

bells Then arises with a tremendous sound, Of village-towers, on sunshine holiday; the Pigs begin scrambling for the Wake all the dewy woods with jangling loaves, and are tripped up by the music. skulls; all those who eat the loaves are Give them no law (are they not beasts turned into Bulls, and arrange them

of blood ?) selves quietly behind the altar. The But such as they gave you.

Tallyho! image of FAMINE sinks through a

ho! chasm in the earth, and a MINOTAUR | Through forest, furze, and bog, and den, rises.

and desert, Minotaur. I am the Ionian Minotaur, Pursue the ugly beasts! tallyho! ho! the mightiest

Full Chorus of Iona and the SWINE. Of all Europa's taurine progeny

Tallyho! tallyho! I am the old traditional man-bull;

Through rain, hail, and snow, And from my ancestors having been Through brake, gorse, and briar, Ionian,

Through sen, flood, and mire, I am called Ion, which, by interpretation,

We go! we go! Is JOHN; in plain Theban, that is to say,

Tallyho! tallyho! My name's Join BULL; I am a famous Through pond, ditch, and slough. hunter,

Wind them, and find them, And can leap any gate in all Bæotia,

Like the Devil behind them, Even the palings of the royal park,

Tallyho! tallyho! Or double ditch about the new en- (Exeunt, in full cry; IonA driving closures ;

on the Swine, with the empty And if your Majesty will deign to

GREEN BAG.

mount me,

At least till you have hunted down your

THE END game, I will not throw you.

NOTE ON CEDIPUS TYRANNUS, Iona Taurina. (During this speech

BY MRS. SHELLEY
she has been putting on boots and
spurs, and a hunting cap, buck-

In the brief journal I kept in those

days, I find recorded, in August 1820, ishly cocked on one side, and

Shelley begins Swellfoot the Tyrant, tucking up her hair, she leaps suggested by the pigs at the fair of San wimbly on his back.) Hoa ! hoa! Giuliano." This was the period of Queen tallyho! tallyho! ho! ho !

Caroline's landing in England, and the Come, let us hunt these ugly badgers struggles made by George IV 10 get rid down,

of her claims; which failing, Lord Castle

were

our

to

reagh placed the Green Bag" on the was a man of genius, and that the world table of the House of Commons, demand will take more interest in his slightest ing in the King's name that an inquiry word than from the waters of Lethe which should be instituted into his wife's con- are so eagerly prescribed as medicinal for duct. These circumstances the all its wrongs and wocs. This drama, howtheme of all conversation among the ever, must not be judged for more than English. We were then at the Baths of was meant. It is a mere plaything of the San Giuliano. A friend came to visit us imagination; which even may not excite on the day when a fair was held in the smiles among many, who will not see wit in square beneath windows : Shelley those combinations of thought which were read to us his Ode to Liberty; and was full of the ridiculous to the author. But, riotously accompanied by the grunting of like everything he wrote, it breathes that a quantity of pigs brought for sale to the deep sympathy for the sorrows of humanfair, He compared it to the “chorus ity, and indignation against its oppressors, of frogs" in the satiric drama of Aristo- which make it worthy of his name. phanes; and, it being an hour of merri. ment, and one ludicrous association sug. gesting another, he imagined a politicalsatirical drama on the circumstances of

EPIPSYCHIDION the day, to which the pigs would serve as chorus — and Swellfoot was begun. VERSES ADDRESSED TO THE When finished, it was transmitted

NOBLE AND UNFORTUNATE England, printed, and published anony

LADY, EMILIA Vmously; but stifled at the very dawn of its existence by the Society for the NOW IMPRISONED IN THE CONSuppression of Vice, who threatened to

VENT OF prosecute it, if not immediately with- L'anima amante si slancia fuori del creato, e drawn. The friend who had taken the si crea nel infinito un Mondo tutto per essa, trouble of bringing it out, of course, did diverso assai da questo oscuro e pauroso baratro.

HER OWN WORDS. not think it worth the annoyance and expense of a contest, and it was laid

My Song, I fear that thou wilt find but aside.

few Hesitation of whether it would do Who fitly shall conceive thy reasoning. honour to Shelley prevented my publish- of such hard matter dost thou entertain; ing it at first. But I cannot bring myself Whence, if by misadventure, chance should to keep back anything he ever wrote; for bring each word is fraught with the peculiar | Thee to base company (as chance may do), views and sentiments which he believed Quite unaware of what thou dost contain, to be beneficial to the human race, and I prithee, comfort thy sweet self again, the bright light of poetry irradiates every My last delight! tell them that they are thought. The world has a right to the

dull, entire compositions of such a man; for it | And bid them own that thou art beautiful, does not live and thrive by the outworn lesson of the dullard or the hypocrite, but by the original free thoughts of men

ADVERTISEMENT of genius, who aspire to pluck bright truth

The Writer of the following Lines died " from the pale-faced moon; at Florence, as he was preparing for a Or dive into the bottom of the deep Where fathom-line could never touch the ground, voyage to one of the wildest of the SporAnd pluck up drowned "

ades, which he had bought, and where he

had fitted up the ruins of an old building, truth. Even those who may dissent and where it was his hope to have realised from his opinions will consider that he a scheme of life, suited perhaps to that

p. 638

happier and better world of which he is But soft and fragrant is the faded blossom, now an inhabitant, but hardly practicable And it has no thorn left to wound thy in this. His life was singular; less on

bosom. account of the romantic vicissitudes which diversified it, than the ideal tinge which it High, spirit-winged Heart! who dost received from his own character and feel

for ever ings. The present Poem, like the Vita Beat thine unseeling bars with vain enNuova of Dante, is sufficiently intelligible deavour, to a certain class of readers without a Till those bright plumes of thought, in matter-of-fact history of the circumstances which arrayed to which it relates; and to a certain other It over-soared this low and worldly shade, class it must ever remain incomprehensible, Lie shattered ; and thy panting, wounded from a defect of a common organ of per

breast ception for the ideas of which it treats.

Stains with dear blood its unmaternal Not but that, gran ver gogna sarebbe a colui, che rimasse cosa sotto veste di figura,

nest! odi colore rettorico: edomandato non sapesse I weep vain tears: blood would less denudare le sue parole da cotal veste, in

bitter be, guisa che avessero verace intendimento. Yet poured forth gladlier, could it profit The present poem appears to have been

thee. intended by the Writer as the dedication to some longer one. The stanza on the

Seraph of Heaven! too gentle to be opposite page is almost a literal translation

human, from Dante's famous Canzone

Veiling beneath that radiant form of Voi, ch' intendendo, il terso ciel movete, etc.

Woman The presumptuous application of the con- All that is insupportable in thee cluding lines to his own composition will of light, and love, and immortality! raise a smile at the expense of my unfor- Sweet Benediction in the eternal Curse ! tunate friend: be it a smile not of con- Veiled Glory of this lampless Universe ! tempt, but pity.

S.
Thou Moon beyond the clouds! Thou

living Form

Among the Dead ! Thou Star above EPIPSYCHIDION

the Storm! Sweet Spirit! Sister of that orphan Thou Wonder, and thou Beauty, and

thou Terror! one,

Thou Whose empire is the name thou weepest Thou Harmony of Nature's art !

Mirror on, In my heart's temple I suspend to thee

In whom, as in the splendour of the Sun, These votive wreaths of withered All shapes look glorious which thou memory.

gazest on!

Ay, even the dim words which obscure Poor captive bird! who, from thy thee now narrow cage,

Flash, lightning - like, with unaccusPourest such music, that it might assuage

tomed glow; The rugged hearts of those who prisoned I pray thee that thou blot from this sad thee,

song Were they not deaf to all sweet melody; All of its much mortality and wrong, This song shall be thy rose: its petals with those clear drops, which start like pale

sacred dew Are dead, indeed, my adored Nightin. From the twin lights thy sweet soul gale!

darkens through,

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