The value he set upon "Prometheus" as the higher work, will hardly be disputed.
Unique in the history of literature, and displaying the specific qualities of its author at their height, the world could less easily afford to lose this drama than "The Cenci", even though that be the greatest tragedy composed in English since the death of Shakespeare.

For reasons which will be appreciated by lovers of dramatic poetry, I refrain from detaching portions of these two plays.

Those who desire to make themselves acquainted with the author's genius, must devote long and patient study to the originals in their entirety.
"Prometheus Unbound", like the majority of Shelley's works, fell still-born from the press.

It furnished punsters with a joke, however, which went the round of several papers; this poem, they cried, is well named, for who would bind it?
Of criticism that deserves the name, Shelley got absolutely nothing in his lifetime.

The stupid but venomous reviews which gave him occasional pain, but which he mostly laughed at, need not now be mentioned.