An Introduction to the Study of Robert Browning's Poetry Part 37

11.

"If you knew their work you would deal your dole."

May I take upon me to instruct you?

When Greek Art ran and reached the goal, Thus much had the world to boast 'in fructu'-- The Truth of Man, as by G.o.d first spoken, Which the actual generations garble, Was re-uttered, and Soul (which Limbs betoken) And Limbs (Soul informs) made new in marble.

-- St. 11. "If you knew their work", etc.: The speaker imputes this remark to some one; the meaning is, if you really knew these old Christian painters, you would deal them your mite of praise, d.a.m.n them, perhaps, with faint praise, and no more. The poet then proceeds to instruct this person.

12.

So, you saw yourself as you wished you were, As you might have been, as you cannot be; Earth here, rebuked by Olympus there: And grew content in your poor degree With your little power, by those statues' G.o.dhead, And your little scope, by their eyes' full sway, And your little grace, by their grace embodied, And your little date, by their forms that stay.

13.

You would fain be kinglier, say, than I am?

Even so, you will not sit like Theseus.

You would prove a model? The Son of Priam Has yet the advantage in arms' and knees' use.

You're wroth--can you slay your snake like Apollo?

You're grieved--still Niobe's the grander!

You live--there's the Racers' frieze to follow: You die--there's the dying Alexander.

-- St. 13. Theseus: a reclining statue from the eastern pediment of the Parthenon, now in the British Museum.

The Son of Priam: probably the Paris of the Aeginetan Sculptures (now in the Glyptothek at Munich), which is kneeling and drawing the bow.

Apollo: "A word on the line about Apollo the snake-slayer, which my friend Professor Colvin condemns, believing that the G.o.d of the Belvedere grasps no bow, but the Aegis, as described in the 15th Iliad. Surely the text represents that portentous object (qou^rin, deinh/n, a'mfida/seian, a'riprepe/'--marmare/hn) as 'shaken violently' or 'held immovably' by both hands, not a single one, and that the left hand:--

a'lla su/ g' e'n xei/ressi la/b' ai'gi/da qusano/essan thn ma/l' e'pi/ssei/wn fobe/ein h'/rwas 'Axaiou/s.

and so on, thn a'/r' o'/ g' e'n xei/ressin e'/xwn-- xersin e'/x' a'tre/ma, k.t.l. Moreover, while he shook it he 'shouted enormously', sei^s', e'pi d' au'tos au'/se ma/la me/ga, which the statue does not. Presently when Teukros, on the other side, plies the bow, it is to/j'on e'/xwn e'n xeiri pali/ntonon. Besides, by the act of discharging an arrow, the right arm and hand are thrown back as we see,--a quite gratuitous and theatrical display in the case supposed. The conjecture of Flaxman that the statue was suggested by the bronze Apollo Alexikakos of Kalamis, mentioned by Pausanias, remains probable; though the 'hardness'

which Cicero considers to distinguish the artist's workmanship from that of Muron is not by any means apparent in our marble copy, if it be one.--Feb. 16, 1880."--The Poet's Note.

Niobe: group of ancient sculpture, in the gallery of the Uffizi Palace, in Florence, representing Niobe mourning the death of her children.

the Racers' frieze: the frieze of the Parthenon is perhaps meant, the reference being to the FULNESS OF LIFE exhibited by the men and horses.

The dying Alexander: "'The Dying Alexander', at Florence.

This well-known, beautiful, and deeply affecting head, which bears a strong resemblance to the Alexander Helios of the Capitol --especially in the treatment of the hair--has been called by Ottfried Mueller a riddle of archaeology. It is no doubt a Greek original, and one of the most interesting remains of ancient art, but we cannot take it for granted that it is intended for Alexander, and still less that it is the work of Lysippus.

It is difficult to imagine that the favored and devoted artist of the mighty conqueror would choose to portray his great master in a painful and impotent struggle with disease and death.

This consideration makes it extremely improbable that it was executed during the lifetime of Alexander, and the whole character of the work, in which free pathos is the prevailing element, and its close resemblance in style to the heads on coins of the period of the Diadochi, point to a later age than that of Lysippus."

--'Greek and Roman Sculpture' by Walter Copland Perry. London, 1882.

p. 484.

14.

So, testing your weakness by their strength, Your meagre charms by their rounded beauty, Measured by Art in your breadth and length, You learned--to submit is a mortal's duty.

--When I say "you", 'tis the common soul, The collective, I mean: the race of Man That receives life in parts to live in a whole, And grow here according to G.o.d's clear plan.

-- St. 14. common: general.

15.

Growth came when, looking your last on them all, You turned your eyes inwardly one fine day And cried with a start--What if we so small Be greater and grander the while than they?

Are they perfect of lineament, perfect of stature?

In both, of such lower types are we Precisely because of our wider nature; For time, theirs--ours, for eternity.

16.

To-day's brief pa.s.sion limits their range; It seethes with the morrow for us and more.

They are perfect--how else? they shall never change: We are faulty--why not? we have time in store.

The Artificer's hand is not arrested With us; we are rough-hewn, nowise polished.

They stand for our copy, and, once invested With all they can teach, we shall see them abolished.

17.

'Tis a life-long toil till our lump be leaven-- The better! What's come to perfection perishes.

Things learned on earth, we shall practise in heaven: Works done least rapidly, Art most cherishes.

Thyself shalt afford the example, Giotto!

Thy one work, not to decrease or diminish, Done at a stroke, was just (was it not?) "O!"

Thy great Campanile is still to finish.

-- St. 15-17. "Greek art had ITS lesson to teach, and it taught it.

It rea.s.serted the dignity of the human form. It re-stated THE TRUTH of the soul which informs the body, and the body which expresses it.

Men saw in its creations their own qualities carried to perfection, and were content to know that such perfection was possible and to renounce the hope of attaining it. In this experience the first stage was progress, the second was stagnation.

Progress began again when men looked on these images of themselves and said: 'we are not inferior to these. We are greater than they.

For what has come to perfection perishes, and we are imperfect because eternity is before us; because we were made to GROW.'"--Mrs. Orr's Handbook to the Works of R. B.

St. 17. "O!": Boniface VIII. (not Benedict IX., as Vasari has it), wishing to employ Giotto, sent a courtier to obtain some proof of his skill. The latter requesting a drawing to send to his Holiness, Giotto took a sheet of paper and a pencil dipped in red color; then resting his elbow on his side, to form a compa.s.s, with one turn of his hand he drew a circle so perfect and exact, that it was a marvel to behold. This done, he turned to the courtier, saying, "Here is your drawing." The courtier seems to have thought that Giotto was fooling him; but the pope was easily convinced, by the roundness of the O, of the greatness of Giotto's skill.

This incident gave rise to the proverb, "Tu sei piu tondo che l' O di Giotto", the point of which lies in the word 'tondo', signifying slowness of intellect, as well as a circle.

--Adapted from Vasari and Heaton.

18.

Is it true that we are now, and shall be hereafter, But what and where depend on life's minute?

Hails heavenly cheer or infernal laughter Our first step out of the gulf or in it?

Shall Man, such step within his endeavor, Man's face, have no more play and action Than joy which is crystallized forever, Or grief, an eternal petrifaction?

-- St. 18. life's minute: life's short span.

19.

On which I conclude, that the early painters, To cries of "Greek Art and what more wish you?"-- Replied, "To become now self-acquainters, And paint man, man, whatever the issue!

Make new hopes shine through the flesh they fray, New fears aggrandize the rags and tatters: To bring the invisible full into play, Let the visible go to the dogs--what matters?"