The love of teasing is, of course, only a base form of
the love of power. Mr. Harness and I had a long discussion the
other night about the Cenci; he maintains your opinion, that the
wicked old nobleman was absolutely mad; but I argued the point
stoutly for his sanity, and very nearly fell into the fire with
dismay when I was obliged to confess that if he was not mad, then
his actuating motive was simply _the love of power_. Do you know
that that play was sent over by Shelley to England with a view to
Miss O'Neill acting Beatrice Cenci? If it were ever possible that
the piece could be acted, I should think an audience might be half
killed with the horror of that entrance of Beatrice when she
describes the marble pavement sliding from beneath her feet.
Did my mother tell you in her note that Milman was at the play the
other night, and said I had made Bianca exactly what he intended? I
wish he would write another tragedy. I think perhaps he will, from
something Murray said the other day. That eminent publisher still
has my MSS. in his possession, but you know I can take things
easily, and I don't feel anxious about his decision.
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