Robert Browning: How to Know Him Part 14

In _The Last Ride Together_,

My mistress bent that brow of hers.

In _By the Fireside_,

Reading by firelight, that great brow And the spirit-small hand propping it.

In _The Statue and the Bust_,

Hair in heaps lay heavily Over a pale brow spirit-pure.

In _Count Gismond_,

They, too, so beauteous! Each a queen By virtue of her brow and breast.

And the wonderful description of Pompilia by Caponsacchi:

Her brow had not the right line, leaned too much, Painters would say; they like the straight-up Greek: This seemed bent somewhat with an invisible crown Of martyr and saint, not such as art approves.

In _Eurydice_,

But give them me, the mouth, the eyes, the brow!

In _Count Gismond_,

Our elder boy has got the clear Great brow.

In _The Statue and the Bust_,

On his steady brow and quiet mouth.

His ideally beautiful women generally have yellow hair. The lady _In a Gondola_ had coiled hair, "a round smooth cord of gold." In _Evelyn Hope_, the "hair's young gold:" in _Love Among the Ruins_, "eager eyes and yellow hair:" in _A Toccata_,

Dear dead women, with such hair, too--what's become of all the gold Used to hang and brush their bosoms?

And we must not forget his poem, _Gold Hair_. His descriptions of women's faces are never conventional, rosy cheeks and bright eyes, but always definite and specific. In _Time's Revenges_, the unfortunate lover is maddened by the vision of the girl's face:

So is my spirit, as flesh with sin, Filled full, eaten out and in With the face of her, the eyes of her, The lips, the little chin, the stir Of shadow round her mouth.

Browning's rejected lovers are such splendid fellows that one wonders at their ill luck. Tennyson's typical lovers, as seen in _Locksley Hall_, _Lady Clara Vere de Vere_, and the first part of _Maud_, behave in a manner that quite justifies the woman. They whine, they rave, and they seem most of all to be astonished at the woman's lack of judgment in not recognising their merits. Instead of a n.o.ble sorrow, they exhibit peevishness; they seem to say, "You'll be sorry some day." Browning's rejected lovers never think of themselves and their own defeat; they think only of the woman, who is now more adorable than ever. It never occurs to them that the woman is lacking in intelligence because of her refusal; nor that the man she prefers is a lowbrowed scoundrel. They are chivalrous; they do their best to win. When they lose, they would rather have been rejected by this woman than accepted by any other; and they are always ready to congratulate the man more fortunate than they. They are in fact simply irresistible, and one can not help believing in their ultimate success. In _The Lost Mistress_, which Swinburne said was worth a thousand _Lost Leaders_, the lover has just been rejected, and instead of thinking of his own misery, he endeavours to make the awkward situation easier for the girl by small-talk about the sparrows and the leaf-buds. She has urged that their friends.h.i.+p continue; that this episode need not put an end to their meetings, and that he can come to see her as often as he likes, only there must be no nonsense; he must promise to be sensible, and treat her only as a friend. Instead of rejecting this suggestion with scorn, he accepts, and agrees to do his best.

Tomorrow we meet the same then, dearest?

May I take your hand in mine?

Mere friends are we ...

Yet I will but say what mere friends say, Or only a thought stronger; I will hold your hand but as long as all may, Or so very little longer!

"I will do my best to please you, but remember I'm made of flesh and blood."

In _One Way of Love_, the same kind of man appears. Pauline likes flowers, music, and fine speeches. He is just a mere man, who has never noticed a flower in his life, who is totally indifferent to music, and never could talk with eloquence. But if Pauline likes these things, he must endeavor to impress her, if not with his skill, at all events with his devotion. He sends her a beautiful bouquet; she does not even notice it. For months he tries to learn the instrument, until finally he can play "his tune." She does not even listen; he throws the lute away, for he cares nothing for music except for her sake. At last comes the supreme moment when he makes his declaration, on which the whole happiness of his life depends.

This hour my utmost art I prove And speak my pa.s.sion-heaven or h.e.l.l?

Many lovers, on being rejected, would simply repeat the last word just quoted. This fine sportsmanlike hero remarks,

She will not give me heaven? 'Tis well Lose who may--I still can say, Those who win heaven, blest are they!

"I can not reproach myself, for I did my best, and lost: still less can I reproach her; all I can say is, the man who gets her is lucky."

Finally, the same kind of character appears in one of the greatest love-poems in all literature, _The Last Ride Together_. The situation just before the opening lines is an exact parallel to that of _The Lost Mistress_. Every day this young pair have been riding together. The man has fallen in love, and has mistaken the girl's camaraderie for a deeper feeling. He has just discovered his error, and without minimising the force of the blow that has wrecked his life's happiness, this is what he says:

Then, dearest, since 'tis so, Since now at length my fate I know, Since nothing all my love avails, Since all, my life seemed meant for, fails, Since this was written and needs must be-- My whole heart rises up to (curse, oh, no!) rises up to bless Your name in pride and thankfulness!

Take back the hope you gave,--I claim Only a memory of the same, --And this beside, if you will not blame, Your leave for one more last ride with me.

What does the rejected lover mean by such brave words as "pride" and "thankfulness"? He means that it is a great honor to be rejected by such a woman, as Mr. Birrell says it is better to be knocked down by Doctor Johnson than to be picked up by Mr. Froude. He is thankful, too, to have known such a wonderful woman; and to show that he can control himself, and make the situation easier for her, he requests that to-day for the last time they ride just as usual--indeed they had met for that purpose, are properly accoutred, and were about to start, when he astonished her with his sudden and no longer controllable declaration. Right! We shall ride together. I am not yet banished from the sight of her. Perhaps the world will end to-night.

In the course of this poem, Browning develops one of his favorite ideas, that Life is always greater than Art. A famous poet may sit at his desk, and write of love in a way to thrill the hearts of his readers; but we should place him lower than rustic sweethearts meeting in the moonlight, because they are having in reality something which exists for the poet only in dreams. The same is true of sculpture and all pictorial art; men will turn from the greatest masterpiece of the chisel or the brush to look at a living woman.

And you, great sculptor,--so, you gave A score of years to Art, her slave, And that's your Venus, whence we turn To yonder girl that fords the burn!

I was once seated in the square room in the gallery at Dresden that holds the most famous picture in the world, Rafael's Sistine Madonna.

A number of tourists were in the place, and we were all gazing steadfastly at the immortal Virgin, when a pretty, fresh-colored young American girl entered the room. Every man's head twisted away from the masterpiece of art, and every man's eyes stared at the commonplace stranger, because she was alive! I was much amused, and could not help thinking of Browning's lines.

This doctrine, that Life is greater than Art, is repeated by Browning in _Cleon_, and it forms the whole content of Ibsen's last drama, _When We Dead Awaken_.

The lover's reasoning at the close of Browning's poem, that rejection may be better for him because now he has an unrealised ideal, and that the race itself is better than the victor's garland, reminds us of Lessing's n.o.ble saying, that if G.o.d gave him the choice between the knowledge of all truth and the search for it, he would humbly take the latter.

One must lead some life beyond, Have a bliss to die with, _dim_-descried.

BROWNING'S REJECTED LOVERS

THE LOST MISTRESS 1845

All's over, then; does truth sound bitter As one at first believes?

Hark, 'tis the sparrows' good-night twitter About your cottage eaves!

And the leaf-buds on the vine are woolly, I noticed that, to-day; One day more bursts them open fully --You know the red turns gray.

To-morrow we meet the same then, dearest?

May I take your hand in mine?

Mere friends are we,--well, friends the merest Keep much that I resign:

For each glance of the eye so bright and black Though I keep with heart's endeavour,-- Your voice, when you wish the snowdrops back, Though it stay in my soul forever!--

Yet I will but say what mere friends say, Or only a thought stronger; I will hold your hand but as long as all may, Or so very little longer!