Proserpine and Midas | Page 9

of any length which seems to have been undertaken by
Mrs. Shelley; they are a unique and touching monument of that
intimate co-operation which at times, especially in the early years in

Italy, could make the union of 'the May' and 'the Elf' almost
unreservedly delightful. It would undoubtedly be fatuous exaggeration
to ascribe a very high place in literature to these little Ovidian fancies
of Mrs. Shelley. The scenes, after all, are little better than
adaptations--fairly close adaptations--of the Latin poet's well-known
tales.
Even Proserpine, though clearly the more successful of the two, both
more strongly knit as drama, and less uneven in style and versification,
cannot for a moment compare with the far more original interpretations
of Tennyson, Swinburne, or Meredith. [Footnote: Demeter and
Persephone, 1889; The Garden of Proserpine, 1866; _The
Appeasement of Demeter_, 1888.] But it is hardly fair to draw in the
great names of the latter part of the century. The parallel would be
more illuminating--and the final award passed on Mrs. Shelley's
attempt more favourable--if we were to think of a contemporary
production like 'Barry Cornwall's' Rape of Proserpine, which, being
published in 1820, it is just possible that the Shelleys should have
known. B. W. Procter's poem is also a dramatic 'scene', written 'in
imitation of the mode originated by the Greek Tragic Writers'. In fact
those hallowed models seem to have left far fewer traces in Barry
Cornwall's verse than the Alexandrian--or pseudo-Alexandrian--
tradition of meretricious graces and coquettish fancies, which the
eighteenth century had already run to death. [Footnote: To adduce an
example--in what is probably not an easily accessible book to-day:
Proserpine, distributing her flowers, thus addresses one of her nymphs:
For this lily, Where can it hang but at Cyane's breast! And yet 'twill
wither on so white a bed, If flowers have sense for envy.]
And, more damnable still, the poetical essence of the legend, the
identification of Proserpine's twofold existence with the grand
alternation of nature's seasons, has been entirely neglected by the
author. Surely his work, though published, is quite as deservedly
obscure as Mrs. Shelley's derelict manuscript. Midas has the privilege,
if it be one, of not challenging any obvious comparison. The subject,
since Lyly's and Dryden's days, has hardly attracted the attention of the

poets. It was so eminently fit for the lighter kinds of presentation that
the agile bibliographer who aimed at completeness would have to go
through a fairly long list of masques, [Footnote: There is one by poor
Christopher Smart.] comic operas, or 'burlettas', all dealing with the
ludicrous misfortunes of the Phrygian king. But an examination of
these would be sheer pedantry in this place. Here again Mrs. Shelley
has stuck to her Latin source as closely as she could. [Footnote:
Perhaps her somewhat wearying second act, on the effects of the
gold-transmuting gift, would have been shorter, if Ovid (Metam. xi.
108-30) had not himself gone into such details on the subject.] She has
made a gallant attempt to connect the two stories with which Midas has
ever since Ovid's days been associated, and a distinct--indeed a too
perceptible--effort to press out a moral meaning in this, as she had
easily extricated a cosmological meaning in the other tale.
Perhaps we have said too much to introduce these two little
unpretending poetical dramas. They might indeed have been allowed to
speak for themselves. A new frame often makes a new face; and some
of the best known and most exquisite of Shelley's lyrics, when restored
to the surroundings for which the poet intended them, needed no other
set-off to appeal to the reader with a fresh charm of quiet classical
grace and beauty. But the charm will operate all the more unfailingly, if
we remember that this clear classical mood was by no means such a
common element in the literary atmosphere of the times--not even a
permanent element in the authors' lives. We have here none of the
feverish ecstasy that lifts Prometheus and Hellas far above the ordinary
range of philosophical or political poetry. But Shelley's encouragement,
probably his guidance and supervision, have raised his wife's
inspiration to a place considerably higher than that of Frankenstein or
Valperga. With all their faults these pages reflect some of that
irradiation which Shelley cast around his own life--the irradiation of a
dream beauteous and generous, beauteous in its theology (or its
substitute for theology) and generous even in its satire of human
weaknesses.

MYTHOLOGICAL DRAMAS.

Unless otherwise pointed out--by brackets, or in the notes--the text,
spelling, and punctuation of the MS. have been strictly adhered to.

PROSERPINE.
A DRAMA IN TWO ACTS.
DRAMATIS PERSONAE
CERES. PROSERPINE. INO, EUNOE. Nymphs attendant upon
Proserpine. IRIS. ARETHUSA, Naiad of a Spring.
Shades from Hell, among which Ascalaphus.
Scene; the plain of Enna,