The Shadow of Great Britain
Chapter 374 - 374 224 The Pinnacle of 19th Century Literature 5K6_2

374: Chapter 224: The Pinnacle of 19th Century Literature (5K6)_2 374: Chapter 224: The Pinnacle of 19th Century Literature (5K6)_2 Arthur quickly flipped through the manuscript in his hands.

“I have seen a Greek version of ‘Prometheus Unbound’ in old bookstores before, but almost all versions only have the first act, ‘Prometheus Bound’.

Every shop owner’s response was the same, claiming that the content from the second to the fourth acts had mostly scattered and could not be completely compiled into a book.

But why does this manuscript in my hands not only have the first act, but also a complete second act?”

At this point, Arthur couldn’t help but look up at the Red Devil.

“Agares, when you and Alexander went out to carouse last night, did you happen to call upon Shelley to join you for drinks to ease the boredom?”

Agares answered, “Oh!

My dear Arthur, what do you take me for?

Have you forgotten what I told you?

The dead cannot come back to life, and those who can resurrect are all miracle workers.

Shelley, although a fine poet, is not qualified in that regard.

Instead of questioning me here, why don’t you take a look at the love letter that was accidentally sent out with ‘Prometheus Unbound’ attached at the end of the manuscript?”

Upon hearing this, Arthur hurriedly found the letter placed at the end and began reading it carefully.

Dear Mary:

I am yours again, and this happiness is about to overwhelm me in my brief vanity.

Oh, my dearest one!

Why is our joy so fleeting, so lingering?

How long must this life continue?

My dearest Mary, you know, on the days without you, I am reduced to a vulgar level.

I can feel their empty, rigid eyeballs staring at me until I seem to have sensed their malice…

Breathing this disgusting air makes me lethargic and powerless.

I am about to die, and at this time, perhaps only your gaze before sleep can save me.

At the bottom of this love letter, there was also a line of dry tear stains, across which ran a line of delicate, elegant text.

Percy, without you, my days are so hard.

If I had not let you leave my side, had not let you embark on that fatal voyage, perhaps we would still be living happily in Athens now?

Percy, I have good news for you, Greece has been liberated, it is no longer that ‘Prometheus Bound’.

Percy, I also have bad news for you, I am replaced by Greece bound on the Caucasus Mountains, and the news of your death is the diamond nail hammered into my heart.

Percy, if you were still here, you would probably be the Heracles who would smash the chains that bind me.

But alas, you are no longer here.

My remaining life is destined to be spent in a long yearning, but rest assured, the golden apples you left behind, your great works, I will have them all organized and published.

You lived a great life, not too long, but splendid enough.

Your Mary, if there is still a whisper of your soul left in this world, please do not forget me.

Agares leaned down to read this love letter, and the Red Devil, pretending to be emotional, squeezed out a tear and said, “Oh!

It really is a sad love story, a prematurely deceased lover leaving behind a vibrant wife.

These kinds of stories always make people tear up, even Devils cannot help but want to help her.”

Upon hearing this, Arthur put away the envelope and glanced at the Red Devil.

“Don’t disturb Mrs.

Shelley, our contract is not yet fully executed.”

Agares exclaimed, “A contract?

Oh, my King Solomon!

Arthur, you little rascal, you still remember the contract between us?

Do you know?

If it weren’t for Professor Agares being so kind-hearted, you, the lazy bum, would have lost your job long ago!

But you won’t let me disturb her, could it be…”

The Red Devil suddenly leaned in close to Arthur, grinning and lowering his voice, “Oh!

Arthur, I didn’t see it, you, like that fellow Disraeli, also prefer mature women!

Maybe this mature woman needs to be a bit cerebral too?”

With that, the Red Devil took out a small notebook from behind, scribbling and flipping through it, “Here, let me help you check if there’s anyone suitable nearby, or you give me ten souls, and I’ll send you this directory directly?

From eighty down to thirty, whatever you want, you can find them all in this directory.”

Arthur calmly held his teacup, “What if I want someone who’s three hundred years old?”

Agares pondered, pinching his chin, “You’ve got quite the extreme taste!

That’s a bit challenging, but…

if you’re really set on it, I’ll go look in the graveyard of Westminster Abbey for you later, how about your former queen, Elizabeth I?

She’s just a bit young.”

Arthur sipped his tea, “How old is the queen this year?”

The Red Devil adjusted his glasses and replied, “298.”

Arthur nodded, “Sounds good.”

Agares muttered, “You’re not picky, are you?”

Arthur set down his teacup, “All are royals and nobles, what is there to be picky about?”

The Red Devil glared, “You little wretch!

Are you pushing your luck?

Do you really think I’m a rat in London?

Talk nonsense again, and I’ll send you to the Andes Mountains to keep company with Eld, still want a woman?

That place has nothing but endless snowy peaks, hairless mice, nightingales, and other birds whose names can’t even be recalled.”