Browning and the Dramatic Monologue Part 8

If at the villa, why does he say to his listener, "Well, now, look at our villa!" The fact that he points to it and says,

"stuck like the horn of a bull Just on a mountain's edge,"

seems to imply, though in plain sight of it, that he is some distance away. Again, if at the villa, how can he discover the procession?

Was the monologue spoken during a walk? We can easily imagine the "person of quality" and his companion starting from the villa and talking while coming down into the city. But this is hardly possible, because when Browning changes his situation in this way, he always suggests definitely the stages of the journey. He never makes a mistake regarding the location or situation of his characters. His conceptions are so dramatic that he is always consistent regarding his characters and the situations or points of view they occupy. However obscure he may be in other points, he never confuses time and place or dramatic situation.

Is it not best to imagine him as having walked out with a friend to some point where the villa above and the city below are both clearly visible?

And as the humor of the monologue consists in the impressions which the two places make upon the speaker, the contrasts are sharp and sudden. In such a position we can distinctly realize him now looking with longing towards the city that he loves and then turning with disgust and contempt towards the villa he despises.

Possibly his listener is located on the side towards the villa, as that unknown and almost unnoticed personage seems once or twice, at least, to make a mild defence. That his listener does not wholly agree with him, is indicated by "Why?" at the end of the eleventh line, to which he replies, heaping encomiums upon the city, careless of the fact that his arguments would make any lover of beauty smile: "Houses in four straight lines."

"And the shops with fanciful signs which are painted properly."

"What of a villa?" may also be an echo of the listener's question or remark, or apply to a look expressive of his att.i.tude of mind. "Is it ever hot in the square?" suggests some satire on his part. The listener, however, is barely noticed, as the speaker seems to scorn the slightest opposition or expression of opinion.

In such a position, we can easily imagine him with the whole city at his feet in sufficiently plain view to allow him to discover enough of the procession to waken memory and enthusiasm, and bring all up as a present reality. The procession can be easily imagined as starting from some convent outside the walls and appearing below them on its way to town. All the facts of the procession need not be discovered. It is a scene he has often observed and delighted in, and distance would lend enchantment to the speaker and serve as the climax of his enthusiasm, as he portrayed to his less responsive friend the details of the procession.

Some of his references to both villa and city are certainly from memory.

For example, the different sights and sounds that he has seen and heard from time to time in the city, such as the "diligence," the "scene-picture at the post-office."

The spirit of the monologue, the enthusiasm and exultation over what gives anything but pleasure to others, requires such a character as will enjoy "the travelling doctor" who "gives pills, lets blood, draws teeth."

Notice Browning's touch for the reformers, he makes such a man rejoice at the news, "only this morning three liberal thieves were shot." The "liberal thieves" are doubtless three Italian reformers who had been trying to deliver their country. It is possible to imagine the procession as wholly from memory, and "noon strikes" to be simply a part of his imagination and exultation. How gaily he skips as our Lady, the Madonna, is

"borne smiling and smart, With a pink gauze gown all spangles, and seven swords stuck in her heart!"

He has no conception of the symbol of the seven deadly sins, but dances away at the music, "No keeping one's haunches still." Later, however, when he exclaims to his listener, "Look," he seems to make an actual discovery.

Does he start as he actually sees a procession in the distance? A real one coming before him would give life and variety to the monologue. Browning intentionally leaves the conceptions gradually to dawn in the imagination.

The doubts, and the questions which may be asked, have been dwelt upon in order to emphasize the point that the speaker must be conceived in a definite situation. When once a situation is located, this will modify some of the shades of feeling and expression.

The point, then, is, that a reader or interpreter must conceive the speaker as occupying a definite place, and when this is done, the position will determine somewhat the feeling and the expression. Difference in situation causes many differences in action and in voice modulations.

Whatever location, therefore, the reader decides upon, everything else must be consistent with it.

One point in this monologue may be especially obscure, where reference is made to the city being "dear!" "fowls, wine, at double the rate." I was one of three in a carriage who were once stopped at a gate in Florence and examined to see whether we carried any "salt," "oil," or anything on which there was a tax, which, according to the owner of the villa, "is a horror to think of." Some Italian cities do not have free trade with the surrounding country; food stuffs are taxed upon "pa.s.sing the gate," thus making life in the city more expensive. And here is the reason why this man sadly mourns:

"And so, the villa for me, not the city!

Beggars can scarcely be choosers: but still--ah, the pity, the pity!"

Whatever may be said regarding Browning's obscurity, however far he may have gone into the most technical knowledge of science in any department of life, however remote his allusions to events or objects or lines of knowledge which are unfamiliar to the world, there is one thing about which he is always definite, possibly more definite than any other writer.

In every monologue we can find an indication of the place or situation in which the monologue is located.

Browning has given us one monologue which takes place during a walk, "A Grammarian's Funeral." The speaker is one of the band carrying the body of his master from the "common crofts," and so he is represented as looking up to the top of the hill and talking about the appropriateness of burying the master on the hilltop. Browning's intimate knowledge of Greek was shown by the phrase "gave us the doctrine of the enc.l.i.tic _De_." The London "Times" criticized this severely when the poem was published, saying that with all respect to Mr. Browning, there was no such enc.l.i.tic.

Browning answered in a note that proved his fine scholarship, and called attention to the fact that this was the point in dispute which the grammarian had tried to settle.

Even the stages of the journey are shown,

"Here's the town-gate reached: there's the market-place Gaping before us."

In another place he says,

"Caution redoubled, Step two abreast, the way winds narrowly!"

while all the time he pours out his tribute to his master:

"Oh, if we draw a circle premature Heedless of far gain, Greedy for quick returns of profit, sure Bad is our bargain!...

That low man seeks a little thing to do, Sees it and does it: This high man, with a great thing to pursue, Dies ere he knows it.

That low man goes on adding one to one, His hundred's soon hit: This high man, aiming at a million, Misses an unit.

That, has the world here--should he need the next, Let the world mind him!

This, throws himself on G.o.d, and unperplexed Seeking, shall find him."

Then, when they arrive at the top, he says,

"Well, here's the platform, here's the proper place,"

and addressing the birds,

"All ye highfliers of the feathered race,"

he continues, giving his thoughts, as suggested by the very situation:

"This man decided not to Live but Know-- Bury this man there?

Here, here's his place, where meteors shoot, clouds form, Lightnings are loosened, Stars come and go! Let joy break with the storm, Peace let the dew send!

Lofty designs must close in like effects: Loftily lying, Leave him, still loftier than the world suspects, Living and dying."

Browning's "At the 'Mermaid'" reproduces a scene of historic interest. The inn where Shakespeare, Ben Jonson, and other sympathetic friends used to meet, is presented to the imagination, and Shakespeare is the speaker.

Some one has proposed a toast to him as the next poet. Shakespeare protests, and the poem is his answer. Here are shown his modesty, his optimism, his reverence, and his n.o.ble views of life. He smilingly points to his works and talks about them to these his friends in a simple, frank way.

"Look and tell me! Written, spoken, Here's my lifelong work: and where-- Where's your warrant or my token I'm the dead king's son and heir?

"Here's my work: does work discover-- What was rest from work--my life?

Did I live man's hater, lover?

Leave the world at peace, at strife?...

"Blank of such a record, truly, Here's the work I hand, this scroll, Yours to take or leave; as duly, Mine remains the unproffered soul.

So much, no whit more, my debtors-- How should one like me lay claim To that largest elders, betters Sell you cheap their souls for--fame?...

"Have you found your life distasteful?

My life did, and does, smack sweet.

Was your youth of pleasure wasteful?

Mine I saved and hold complete.

Do your joys with age diminish?

When mine fail me, I'll complain.

Must in death your daylight finish?

My sun sets to rise again....

"My experience being other, How should I contribute verse Worthy of your king and brother?

Balaam-like I bless, not curse.

I find earth not gray, but rosy, Heaven not grim, but fair of hue.

Do I stoop? I pluck a posy.