When the poet was about to leave Marlow, he sent round to all his tradespeople, instructing them to send in their bills. "They were all sent in," said the supposed squire, "except mine, and paid. I forgot to send mine in, and it has never been settled."

"Is that all ?" exclaimed Howitt. "What! are you not the squire ?"

The squire no, sir. I am in the general way."

Howitt drove out of the town, indignant at the baseness of mankind, indignant also that Shelley should only be remembered in the town where he had resided for a twelvemonth, for having left one bill unpaid, and that no fault of his own.

Such are the records of Shelley's life at Marlow, his last residence in England. In the spring of the year 1818, he again departed for the continent, and never afterwards set foot upon his native soil.

CHAPTER X.

Shelley's departure from England-His arrival at Milan -His literary efforts-"The Prometheus Unbound”Visits the Lake of Como-Arrival at Pisa-Proceeds to Leghorn-Visits the Baths of Lucca-Translates the Symposium of Plato-His journey to FlorenceArrival at Venice-Meeting again with Lord ByronByron's life at Venice-Julian and Maddalo.

On the 12th of March, 1818, Shelley quitted England and proceeded direct to Lyons, where he arrived on the 22nd, and after resting a few days continued the route on to Milan, and reached his destination by the end of the month or early in April.

"Our journey," he says, " was somewhat painful from the cold, and in no other manner interesting until we passed the Alps; of course,

I except the Alps themselves; but no sooner had we arrived in Italy, than the loveliness of the earth, and the serenity of the sky, made the greatest difference in my sensations. I depend on these things for life, for in the smoke of cities, and the tumult of human kind, and the chilling fogs of our own country, I can hardly be said to live."

The effect of the climate, and the glorious aspect of Italy on the poet was magical—his health and spirits began to revive, and he soon recovered all his native energy and vivacity; and the poetical spirit within him seemed to gather new strength and power, almost as the first-fruits of his journey. Already, on the 20th of April, we find him writing to a friend his intention of devoting the summer to the composition of a tragedy on the subject of Tasso's madness.

This was an entire new phase for Shelley's genius to exhibit itself, nor had he hitherto given much evidence of possessing dramatic talent, but he declares that he has taken this resolution "to see what kind of a tragedy a person without dramatic talent could write."

At this time he also meditated upon the book of Job, as the subject for a lyrical drama, and it is much to be regretted that the idea was not carried out, so eminently fitted as this is for the display of dramatic and lyrical excellence in the hands of a great artist; but these two subjects were speedily abandoned for the all-absorbing one of the "Prometheus Unbound." This sublime subject, when it had once fairly presented itself to his mind, engrossed all his attention, and he prosecuted it with ardour and enthusiasm.

The Prometheus of Eschylus had filled him with delight, and seems often to have recurred to him to dazzle his imagination. While ascending Les Echelles on the way to Chambery, the grandeur of the scenery presented itself to Shelley as the realization of the Greek poet's description. He says:

"The scene is like that described in the Prometheus of Eschylus. Vast rifts and caverns in the granite precipices, wintry mountains with ice and snow above; the loud sound of unseen waters within the caverns, and walls of toppling rocks, only to be scaled, as he describes, by the winged chariot of the ocean nymphs."

The continual contemplation of such scenes could but serve to foster the idea that had once started, and the Titanic images that at first arose in chaotic confusion, were soon moulded into shape and form, and found reality in that sublime conception.

He had proposed passing the summer on the shores of the lake of Como; and visited it, accompanied by his wife, for the purpose of finding a house; but was unsuccessful, on the score of expenses, though the idea appears to have been abandoned with great regret, for writing to a friend, he

says:

"You may easily conjecture the motives which led us to forego the divine solitude of Como. To me, whose chief pleasure in life is the contemplation of nature, you may imagine how great is this loss."

This beautiful lake he describes as exceeding anything he ever beheld in beauty, with the exception of the arbutus islands of Killarney.

On the 1st of May, Shelley hired a vetturino to convey himself and family to Pisa, and departed from Milan.

In seven days they arrived at their destination,