You will see at once that it is not even a Paraphrase, but an Adaptation, of the Original: not as more adapted to an Athenian Audience 400 years B.C. but to a merely English Reader 1800 years A.D. Some dropt stitches in the Story, not considered by the old Genius of those days, I have, I think, 'taken up,' as any little Dramatist of these Days can do: though the fundamental absurdity of the Plot (equal to Tom Jones according to Coleridge!) remains; namely, that OEdipus, after so many years reigning in Thebes as to have a Family about him, should apparently never have heard of Laius' murder till the Play begins. One acceptable thing I have done, I think, omitting very much rhetorical fuss about the poor man's Fatality, which I leave for the Action itself to discover; as also a good deal of that rhetorical Scolding, which, I think, becomes tiresome even in its Greek: as the Scene between OEdipus and Creon after Tiresias: and equally unreasonable. The Choruses which I believe are thought fine by Scholars, I have left to old Potter to supply, as I was hopeless of making anything of them; pasting, you see, his 'Finale' over that which I had tried. I believe that I must leave Part II. for the present, being rather wearied with the present stupendous Effort, at AEtat. 71. If I live another year, and am still free from the ills incident to my Time, I will make an end of it, and of all my Doings in that way. _To Charles Keene_. {280a} _Friday_. MY DEAR KEENE, . . . Beckford's Hunting is an old friend of mine: excellently written; such a relief (like Wesley and the religious men) to the Essayist style of the time. Do not fail to read the capital Squire's Letter in recommendation of a Stable-man, dated from Great Addington, Northants, 1734: of which some little is omitted after Edition I.; which edition has also a Letter from Beckford's Huntsman about a wicked 'Daufter,' wholly omitted. This first Edition is a pretty small 4to 1781, with a Frontispiece by Cipriani! . . . If you come down this Spring, but not before May, I will show you some of these things in a Book {280b} I have, which I might call 'Half Hours with the Worst Authors,' and very fine things by them. It would be the very best Book of the sort ever published, if published; but no one would think so but myself, and perhaps you, and half a dozen more. If my Eyes hold out I will copy a delightful bit by way of return for your Ballad. _To C. E. Norton_. _May_ 1, 1880. MY DEAR NORTON,