Correspondence

2052.  RB to EBB

As published in The Brownings’ Correspondence, 11, 108–109.

[London]

Thursday. [Postmark: 2 October 1845]

Well, let us hope against hope in the sad matter of the novel—yet, yet,—it is by Shelley, if you will have the truth—as I happen to know—proof last being that Leigh Hunt told me he unearthed it in Shelley’s own library at Marlow once, to the writer’s horror & shame– “He snatched it out of my hands”—said H—yet I thrust it into yours .. so much for the subtle fence of friends who reach your heart by a side-thrust, as I told you on Tuesday, after the enemy has fallen back breathless and baffled. As for the date, that Stockdale was a notorious pirate and raker-up of rash publications .. and, do you know, I suspect the title-page is all that boasts such novelty, .. see if the book, the inside leaves, be not older evidently! [1] —a common trick of the “trade” to this day: the history of this and “Justrozzi,” as it is spelt,—the other novel,—may be read in Medwin’s conversations—and, as I have been told, in Lady Ch. Bury’s “Reminiscences” or whatever she calls them [2]  .. the “Giustrozzi” was certainly “written in concert with”—somebody or other [3]  .. for I confess the whole story grows monstrous, and even the froth of wine strings itself in bright bubbles,—ah, but this was the scum of the fermenting vat, do you see? I am happy to say I forget the novel entirely, or almost—and only keep the exact impression which you have gained .. thru’ me! “The fair cross of gold he dashed on the floor [4] —(that is my pet-line .. because the “chill dew” of a place not commonly supposed to favour humidity—is a plagiarism from Lewis’s “Monk,” it now flashes on me! [5] Yes—Lewis, too, puts the phrase into intense italics.) And now, please read a chorus in the “Prometheus Unbound” or a scene from the “Cenci”—and join company with Shelley again!

—From “chill dew” I come to the cloak—you are quite right—and I give up that fancy. Will you, then, take one more precaution when all proper safeguards have been adopted; and, when every thing is sure, contrive some one sureness besides, against cold or wind or sea-air,—and say “this—for the cloak which is not here, and to help the heart’s wish which is,”—so I shall be there palpably. Will you do this? Tell me you will, to-morrow—and tell me all good news.

My Mother suffers still .. I hope she is no worse—but a little better—certainly better. I am better too, in my unimportant way.

Now I will write you the verses .. some easy ones out of a paper-full meant to go between poem & poem in my next Number, and break the shock of collision.

Let me kiss your hand—dearest! My heart and life—all is yours, and forever– God make you happy as I am thro’ you– Bless you

RB

Address: Miss Barrett, / 50 Wimpole St

Postmark: 12NN12 OC2 1845 B.

Docket, in EBB’s hand: 59.

Publication: RB-EBB, pp. 220–221.

Manuscript: Wellesley College.

1. See preceding letter, note 1. RB’s speculation is confirmed by the fact that there are extant copies, consisting of the original sheets from remainders of the 1811 edition, with a title page dated 1822 (The Works of Percy Bysshe Shelley, ed. Harry Buxton Forman, 1880, V, 162).

2. In Diary Illustrative of the Times of George the Fourth (2 vols., 1838) by Charlotte Susan Maria Bury (née Campbell, 1775–1861) there is a mention of “a monstrous romance in one volume, called St. Ircoyne [sic], or the Rosicrucian” (I, 55); however, there is no notice of Zastrozzi.

3. According to Medwin, Shelley said some chapters of Zastrozzi, A Romance (1810) were written by Harriet Grove, his cousin (Shelley Papers, 1833, p. 10).

4. Cf. the “Ballad” from St. Irvyne; or, the Rosicrucian (1811), line 21; and for “chill dew,” line 87.

5. Ambrosio, or the Monk by Matthew Gregory Lewis (1775–1818) first appeared in 1795; its indecency caused the Attorney-General to seek an injunction against its sale, but the prosecution was stopped when Lewis undertook to expunge the more objectionable passages from the second edition which was published in 1796. The novel is described in The Cambridge History of English Literature as “a mere mess and blotch of murder, outrage, diablerie and indecency” (XI, 303). We have been unable to verify RB’s assertion of plagiarism.

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