The Browning Cyclopaedia Part 26

(1870-1878). Now the casuistic and argumentative element becomes more prominent; the dramatic aspect retires into the background, the philosophical teacher advances. "His hardest and least poetic work," it has been said, was put forth in this period: _Hohenstiel-Schw.a.n.gau_, _Red Cotton Night-Cap Country_, etc.--Period V. (1879-1889), "_the time of the latest works_." A period of criticism of life, as in _Ferishtah_ and the _Parleyings_.

=Peter Ronsard.= (_The Glove._) He tells the story of Sir De Lorge, and how he leaped amongst the lions to recover his lady's glove.

=Pheidippides.= (_Dramatic Idyls, First Series_, 1879.) Pheidippides, an athlete, has been commissioned by the Athenian government to run a race,--to reach Sparta for military a.s.sistance in a great crisis in Greek history. Persia has invaded Greece: in her extremity she implores help from the neighbouring Spartans; for two days and two nights Pheidippides the fleet-footed youth ran over hills and along the dales, as fire runs through stubble, and so he bounded on his way with his message. He broke into the midst of the Spartan a.s.sembly, told his story, and prayed the prayer of Athens; but Sparta, ever jealous and mistrustful of her great neighbour, heard it coldly, and cast about for excuses. Then the pa.s.sionate runner cried to the G.o.ds of his country--to Pallas Athene, protector of the city, to Apollo, to Diana--to influence the deliberations of the council gathered to hear his message, and to say to them "Ye must!"

And no bolt fell from heaven, as they still delayed. At last they gave their answer,--their religion forbade them to go to war while the moon was half-orbed in the sky; her circle must be full ere they could a.s.sist; Athens must wait in patience! The youth wasted neither word nor look on the false and vile Spartans, but turned his face homewards, crying to the G.o.ds of his land; rushing past the woods and streams where they had often manifested themselves to mortals he reproached them with faithlessness and ingrat.i.tude,--his countrymen had honoured them with sacrifice and libation, and in their extremity they disregarded their cry for help. All at once, as he ran by the ridge of Parna.s.sus, there in the cool of a cleft was seated the majestical G.o.d Pan! Grave, kindly were his eyes, his face amused at the mortal's awe of him. "Halt, Pheidippides!" he cried; and with his brain in a whirl the youth stood still. "Hither to me! Why pale in my presence?" he graciously began. "How is it Athens only in h.e.l.las holds me aloof?" Then the G.o.d told the young man how they might trust him; that he was to bid Athens take heart,--that when the Persians were not only lying dead on their soil, but cast into the sea, then they were to praise great Pan, who had fought in their ranks and made one cause with the free and the bold Athenians. And for a pledge he gave him the fennel he grasped in his hand. He went on to speak of reward for himself, but of that Pheidippides would not speak; if he ran before, now he flew indeed; he touched not the earth with his foot, the air was his road. "Praise Pan!" he cried, as he reached Athens, "we stand no more in danger!" Then Miltiades asked him what his own reward should be? What had the G.o.d promised for him? "Release from the racer's toil," he said. "But he would fight and be foremost in the field of fennel, pounding Persia to the dust; then marry a certain maid when Athens was free, and in the coming days tell his children how the G.o.d was awful, yet so kind." The brave youth fought at Marathon; and when Persia was dust. "Once more run," they cried, "Pheidippides, to Akropolis, say Athens is saved, thank Pan,--go shout!"

Then the youth flung down his shield and ran as before. "Rejoice! we conquer!" he cried; and with joy bursting his heart he died. He had gained the reward promised by Pan,--release from the racer's toil, no vulgar reward in praise or in pelf,--he could desire no greater bliss.

Herodotus tells the whole story (Book VI., 94-106). Darius was desirous of subduing those people of Greece who had refused to give him earth and water. He sent against Eretria and Athens Datis, who was a Mede by birth, and Artaphernes, son of Artaphernes, his own nephew; and he despatched them with strict orders, having enslaved Athens and Eretria, to bring the bondsmen into his presence. 102. "Having subdued Eretria, and rested a few days, they sailed to Attica, pressing them very close, and expecting to treat the Athenians in the same way as they had the Eretrians. Now, as Marathon was the spot in Attica best adapted for cavalry, and nearest to Eretria, Hippias, son of Pisistratus, conducted them there. 103. But the Athenians, when they heard of this, also sent their forces to Marathon; and ten generals led them, of whom the tenth was Miltiades.... 105. And first, while the generals were yet in the city, they despatched a herald to Sparta, one Pheidippides, an Athenian, who was a courier by profession, one who attended to this very business. This man, then, as Pheidippides himself said, and reported to the Athenians, Pan met near Mount Parthenion, above Tegea; and Pan, calling out the name of Pheidippides, bade him ask the Athenians why they paid no attention to him, who was well inclined to the Athenians, and had often been useful to them, and would be so hereafter. The Athenians, therefore, as their affairs were then in a prosperous condition, believed that this was true, and erected (after Marathon presumably), a temple to Pan beneath the Akropolis, and in consequence of that message they propitiate Pan with yearly sacrifices and the torch race. 106. This Pheidippides, being sent by the generals at that time when he said Pan appeared to him, arrived in Sparta on the following day after his departure from the city of the Athenians, and on coming in presence of the magistrates, he said, 'Lacedaemonians, the Athenians entreat you to a.s.sist them, and not to suffer the most ancient city among the Greeks to fall into bondage to barbarians; for Eretria is already reduced to slavery, and Greece has become weaker by the loss of a renowned city,' He accordingly delivered the message according to his instructions, and they resolved indeed to a.s.sist the Athenians; but it was out of their power to do so immediately, as they were unwilling to violate the law; for it was the ninth day of the current month, and they said they could not march out on the ninth day, the moon's circle not being full. They therefore waited for the full moon." How the Athenians won the famous battle of Marathon, "following the Persians in their flight, cutting them to pieces, till, reaching the sh.o.r.e, they called for fire and attacked the ships," should be read also. Herodotus says the Persians lost about six thousand four hundred men; the Athenians only one hundred and ninety-two.

Mr. Browning seems unduly severe on the Spartans, for Herodotus tells us (120) that "two thousand of the Lacedaemonians came to Athens after the full moon, making haste to be in time; that they arrived in Attica on the third day after leaving Sparta. But having come too late for the battle, they nevertheless desired to see the Medes; and having proceeded to Marathon, they saw the slain; and afterwards, having commended the Athenians and their achievement, they returned home."

NOTES.--?a??ete, ????e?: Rejoice! we conquer! _Zeus, the Defender_: Jupiter was worshipped under many aspects, such as "the Lightning Flasher," "the Thunderer," "the Flight Stayer," "the Best and Greatest,"

etc. "_Her of the aegis and spear_" == Minerva, who was represented with a shield and spear. "_Ye of the bow and the buskin_" == Diana, who was represented with a bow and buskined legs of a huntress. _Pan_, the goat-G.o.d. "_Archons of Athens, topped by the tettix_" (_tettix_, a gra.s.shopper): the Athenians sometimes wore golden gra.s.shoppers in their hair as badges of honour, because these insects are supposed to spring from the ground, and thus they showed they were sprung from the original inhabitants of the country. _Sparta_, the capital of Laconia, also called Lacedaemon. The distance from Athens to Sparta is from 135 to 140 miles.

The trained couriers had great physical strength and powers of endurance, being regularly employed for such occasions as this. "_Persia bids Athens proffer slaves'-tribute_": "Darius (B.C. 493) sent heralds into all parts of Greece to require earth and water in his name. This was the form used by the Persians when they exacted submission from those they were desirous of bringing under subjection." (Rollins' _Ancient History_, vol. ii., p.

267.) _Eretria_, one of the princ.i.p.al cities of Euba, which is the largest Island in the aegean Sea, now called Negroponte. _h.e.l.las_ == Greece. _Athene_, Minerva. _Phoibos_, an epithet of Apollo; _Artemis_, the Greek name of Diana. _Olumpos_ == Olympus, the mountain in Greece believed to be the seat of the G.o.ds. _Filleted victim_: sacrificial victims were generally decked out with ribbons and wreaths, and sometimes the cattle had their horns gilded. _Fulsome libation_--fulsome in the sense of rich, liberal. Libations were offerings of oil or wine poured on the ground in honour of the deity. _Parnes_: the mountain is called Parthenion above Tegea, by Herodotus. _Ivy_: the Greeks highly esteemed the ivy. It was consecrated to Apollo, and Bacchus had his brows and spear decked with it; _Miltiades_, the Greek general who commanded the Athenians at the battle of Marathon; _Marathon day_: "The victory of Marathon preserved the liberties of Greece, and perhaps of Europe, from the dominion of Persia; was fought in the month of September, B.C. 490"

(Wordsworth's _Greece_, p. 109). _Akropolis_, the citadel or stronghold of Athens. _Fennel-field_: Marathon in Greek meant this; when Pan gave the handful of fennel to the courier he gave him ?a?a????--that is to say, the fennel field where the battle was to be. "_Rejoice!_" ?a??ete: the first of the two Greek words which are at the head of the poem. _Pan_ (_lit._ "the pasturer"--from the same root as the Lat. _pastor_, shepherd, and _panis_, bread). He was the protecting deity of flocks and herds and hunters. He was represented by the ancients with a pug nose, very hairy, and with horns and feet of a goat. He was described as wandering about in the woods and dales and hills, playing with the nymphs and looking after the flocks. He was sleepy in the noonday sun, and did not like to be disturbed; at such times, therefore, shepherds did not play their pipes.

His voice and appearance used to frighten those who saw him--so much so, that our word "panic" is derived from his name. It is said that he won the fight at Marathon for the Athenians by causing a "panic" amongst the Persians. He was the G.o.d of prophecy, and there were oracles of Pan. Pan as the Universe, the All, is a misinterpretation of his name. The Romans identified Pan with their Faunus. [Mrs. Browning's fine poem _The Dead Pan_ should be read in this connection.]

=Pictor Ignotus.= FLORENCE, 15--. (_Dramatic Romances and Lyrics_ in _Bells and Pomegranates_, VII., 1845.) The subject is not historical, but is conceived in the true spirit which animated the work of the great religious (chiefly monastic) painters of the middle ages. The speaker says he could have painted pictures like those of a certain youth whose praise is in every one's mouth. He could have executed all his soul conceived: hand and brain were pair, and all he saw he could have committed to his canvas. Each pa.s.sion written on the countenance, whether Hope a-tiptoe for embrace, or Rapture with drooping eyes, or Confidence lighting up the forehead, all that human faces gave him, has he saved. He has dreamed of going forth in his pictures to pope or kaiser, to the whole world, with flowers cast upon the car which bore the freight, through streets re-named from the triumphal pa.s.sing of his picture, to the house where learning and genius should greet his coming; and the thought has frightened him, and he has shrunk from the popularity as a nun shrinks from the gaze of rough soldiery; it terrified him to think of his works dragged forth to be bought and sold as household stuff, to have to live with people sunk in their daily pettiness, to see their faces, listen to their prate, and hear his work discussed. If at times he feels his work monotonous, as he goes on filling the cloisters and eternal aisles with the same Virgins, Babes, and Saints, with the same cold, calm, beautiful regard, at least no merchant traffics in his heart. The sacredness of the place where his pictures moulder and grow black will protect him from vain tongues which would criticise and discuss his work. This poem has been much misunderstood. Some have seen in it the bitter complaint and the wail of half-suppressed longing of one whom fame has pa.s.sed unnoticed; he has failed to please the world, and will now retire to pursue his art in the cloister. Nothing could be further from the poet's purpose in this work.

Others, and those the majority of critics, have found in the poem a revelation of the true art-spirit, as though Mr. Browning had made a great discovery in this connection. The plain fact is that this spirit of retirement, this abhorrence of working for the praise of men, this hatred of applause-seeking and of self-advertis.e.m.e.nt, was that which animated the men of old Catholic times who built our cathedrals and our abbeys, and who painted our great pictures and glorified all Europe with works of art. The poem might fairly be considered as uttered by a Fra Angelico with reference to Raffaele. The great monastic painters, like Angelico, painted under the eye of G.o.d, looking upon their work as immediately inspired by His Spirit: for G.o.d and through G.o.d, not through men and for men, was their work done. It has been the life-work of Mr. Ruskin to point this out. These men were not actuated by the vain advertising spirit which animates so much of our modern work of all kinds. Humility is a virtue now little appreciated: it was the life of these old artists' souls. Pictor Ignotus was not jealous of the popular youth whose pictures were decked with flowers by the people as they were borne through the streets which were re-named in their honour. He did not want the mob's applause; he shrank from the appreciations of the thoughtless street folk as a nun would shrink from the compliments of a band of rough soldiery. All this beautiful spirit is fast dying out. When a writer like Browning reminds us that there were once, in "15--," in a place like Florence, men animated by it, critics cry out, "What a discovery! How wonderful!" It is a discovery like ours of gold in South Africa, where the men of old time went to Ophir to find the precious metal.

NOTE.--Vasari says that the Borgo Allegri at Florence took its name from the joy of the inhabitants when a Madonna by Cimabue was carried through it in procession.

=Pied Piper of Hamelin, The.= (_Dramatic Lyrics_, 1842.) Written to amuse little Willie Macready. The story told in the poem is one of a cla.s.s of legends dealing with the subject of cheating magicians of a promised reward for services rendered. Verstegan, in his _Rest.i.tution of Decayed Intelligence_ (1634), has the story on which apparently Mr. Browning's poem is written. "A piper named Bunting undertook for a certain sum of money to free the town of Hamelin, in Brunswick, of the rats which infested it; but when he had drowned all the rats in the river Weser, the townsmen refused to pay the sum agreed upon. The piper, in revenge, collected together all the children of Hamelin, and enticed them by his piping into a cavern in the side of the mountain Koppenberg, which instantly closed upon them, and a hundred and thirty went down alive into the pit (June 26th, 1284). The street through which Bunting conducted his victims was Bungen, and from that day to this no music is ever allowed to be played in this particular street." The same tale is told of the fiddler of Brandenberg: the children were led to the Marienberg, which opened upon them and swallowed them up. When Lorch was infested with ants, a hermit led the mult.i.tudinous insects by his pipe into a lake, where they perished. As the inhabitants refused to pay the stipulated price, he led their pigs the same dance, and they, too, perished in the lake. Next year a charcoal burner cleared the same place of crickets; and when the price agreed upon was refused, he led the sheep of the inhabitants into the lake. The third year came a plague of rats, which an old man of the mountain piped away and destroyed. Being refused his reward, he piped the children of Lorch into the Tannenberg. There are similar Persian and Chinese tales. (See Dr. Brewer's _Reader's Handbook_.) Hamlin or Hamelin is a town in the province of Hanover, Prussia. "Some trace the origin of the legend to the 'Child Crusade,' or to an abduction of children. For a considerable time the town dated its public doc.u.ments from the event"

(_Encyc. Brit._). Julius Wolff wrote a poem on the subject (Berlin, 1876).

See S. Baring Gould's _Curious Myths of the Middle Ages_, 2nd ser., 1868; Grimm's _Deutsche Sagen_, Berlin, 1866; and Reitzenstein's edition of Springer's _Geschichte der Stadt Hameln_, Hameln, 1861. Some authorities consider the story a myth of the wind.

=Pietro Comparini= (_The Ring and the Book_) was the reputed father of Pompilia, and was murdered with his wife by Count Guido.

=Pietro of Abano.= (_Dramatic Idyls_, second series, 1880.) [THE MAN.] Dr.

Furnivall, in a note to Mr. Sharpe's excellent paper on Pietro of Abano in the _Browning Society's Reports_, No. V., gives the following particulars of the character from the _Nouvelle Biographie Universelle_, Paris, 1855, i. 29-31. "Pietro of A'bano, Petrus de A'pano or Aponensis, or Petrus de Padua, was an Italian physician and alchemist; born at Abano, near Padua, in 1246, died about 1320. He is said to have studied Greek at Constantinople, mathematics at Padua, and to have been made Doctor of Medicine and Philosophy at Paris. He then returned to Padua, where he was Professor of Medicine, and followed the Arabian physicians, especially Averroes. He got a great reputation, and charged enormous fees. He hated milk and cheese, and swooned at the sight of them. His enemies, jealous of his renown and wealth, denounced him to the Inquisition as a magician.

They accused him of possessing the philosopher's stone, and of making, with the devil's help, all money spent by him come back to his purse, etc. His trial was begun; and had he not died naturally in time, he would have been burnt. The Inquisitors ordered his corpse to be burnt; and as a friend had taken that away, they had his portrait publicly burnt by the executioner. In 1560 a Latin epitaph in his memory was put up in the church of St. Augustine. The Duke of Urbino set his statue among those of ill.u.s.trious men; and the Senate of Padua put one on the gate of its palace, beside those of Livy, etc. His best-known work is his _Conciliator Differentiarum quae inter Philosophos et Medicos versantur_ (Mantua, 1472, and Venice, 1476, fol.); often reprinted. Other works are: 1. _De Venenis, eorumque Remediis_, translated into French by L. Boet (Lyons, 1593, 12mo); 2. _Geomantia_ (Venice, 1505, 1556, 8vo); 3. _Expositio Problematum Aristotelis_ (Mantua, 1475, 4to); 4. _Hippocrates de Medicorum Astrologia Libellus_, in Greek and Latin (Venice, 1485, 4to); 5. _Astrolabium planum in tabulis ascendens, continens qualibet hora atque minutae aequationes Domorum Caeli_, etc. (Venice, 1502, 4to); 6. _Dioscorides digestus alphabetico ordine_ (Lyons, 1512, 4to); 7. _Heptameron_ (Paris, 1474, 4to); 8. _Textus Mesues noviter emendatus_, etc. (Venice, 1505, 8vo); 9.

_Decisiones physionomiae_ (1548, 8vo); 10. _Questiones de Febribus_ (Padua, 1482); 11. _Galeni tractatus varii a Petro Paduano, latinitate donati_, MS. in St. Mark's Library, Venice; 12. _Les Elements pour operer dans les Sciences magiques_, MS. in the a.r.s.enal Library, Paris." Murray's _Guide to Northern Italy_ says that "Abano may be visited either from Padua or from Monselice. Its baths have retained their celebrity from the time of the Romans. The place is also remarkable as being the birthplace of Livy, and also of the physician and reputed necromancer, Pietro d'Abano, in whom the Paduans take almost equal pride. This village is about three miles from the Euganean hills." The medicinal springs procured this place its ancient name of _Aponon_, derived from a, privative, and p????, pain. At Padua is the _Palazzo della Ragione_, built by _Pietro Cozzo_ between 1172 and 1219, a vast building standing entirely upon open arches, surrounded by a loggia. Murray says: "The history of this hall is as remarkable as its aspect. It was built in 1306 by an Austin friar, _Frate Giovanni_, a great traveller; and he asked no other pay for his work than the wood and tiles of the old roof which he was to take down. The interior of the hall is covered by strange, mystical paintings designed by Giotto according to the instructions of _Pietro d'Abano_." Pietro d'Abano was the first reviver of the art of medicine in Europe; and he travelled to Greece for the purpose of learning the language of Hippocrates and Galen, and of profiting by the stores which the Byzantine libraries yet contained. He practised with the greatest success; and his medical works were considered as amongst the most valuable volumes of the therapeutic library of the middle ages. His bust is over one of the doors of the hall; the inscription placed beneath it indignantly repudiates the magic and sorcery ascribed to him; but the votaries of the occult sciences smiled inwardly at this disclaimer. His treatises upon necromancy, geomancy, amulets and conjuration, were circulated from hand to hand. When at Padua, some years since, the Rev. John Sharpe found a stone set in the wall of the vestibule of the Sacristy of the Church of the Eremitani, to Pietro of Abano. It bore the following inscription:--

PETRI APON.

CINERES OB. AN. 1315 AET. 66.

[THE POEM.] Peter was a magician. He had been of all trades, architect, astronomer, astrologer, beside physician. Even worse than astrologer, for men scrupled not to accuse him of having dealings with the devil. This was the Middle Age way with men of science, and it must be confessed that the mystical manner of their writings and the uncanny nature of some of their doings give colour to the accusation. It was convenient, also, to accuse Peter of diabolic arts. When he had built a tower or cured a prince, it was an economical way of discharging the debt to accuse the old man of wizardry. So they cursed him roundly and then rid themselves of their liability. But Peter grinned and bore it all. He seems to have invented a steamboat which would have whirled through the water had not the priests broken up his evil-looking machine, and bastinadoed him beside. One night, as he reached his lodgings, some one plucked his sleeve and asked an interview with him. It was a young Greek, who professed great admiration for the mage. He tells him that he has heard that the price he pays for his potent arts is that he may not drink a drop of milk; but he has discovered this is not to be taken literally,--it is to be considered figuratively, as he will explain. He asks the master leave to become the friend of mankind, and that by being himself their model. He begs, therefore, to be taught the true magic, to learn the art of making fools subserve the man of mind. A prince is inspired with the idea of building a palace by an architect. The architect uses the prince as the means of furthering his own interests--his ambition to be honoured as a great architect. The workmen who build the mansion are animated by their desire for wages, and so the architect uses both prince and artisan as his tools.

The young Greek wants to use men of high and low degree for similar ends.

The magician says if he were to comply with his desire he would only make one ingrate more; he has been so often deceived this way. The Greek replies that what he wants is the milk of human kindness. He has not been animated by love of his species in what he has done for mankind. He has wrought wonders, but not for love. This is the meaning of his enforced abstinence from milk; but let him confer upon his supplicant this favour he asks, and he will earn his love and grat.i.tude, which will remove from him his curse. Every step he lifts him up, by so much greater will the reward of the benefactor be. The magician determines to comply: he will test this man's heart. "Shuffle the cards once more," he says. Suddenly the young man becomes aware that he has undergone a great change. He was talking Plato to the master but a while ago; now he is surrounded by wealth, and has many friends. A year has pa.s.sed when one day, lounging at his ease in his villa, his servant announces an old friend who desires to speak with him. It is old Peter, who is sore beset by his enemies, who want to burn him. He has come to the young man who owes him everything, to beg a hiding-place and a crust. The ingrate will not for a moment listen to his plea; he cannot think of harbouring him, as if it were to be discovered it would compromise him. He takes the opportunity, however, to ask for a greater favour,--he wishes to learn how to rule men and subject them to his pleasure. Then, if he will wait awhile, he may be able to show his grat.i.tude. The old man turns his back and leaves the house. He is no sooner away than the spell begins to work. Politics were the prize now. He became a statesman and a friend of the Emperor. One day, after a council, he was pacing his closet, when there was a knock at the door, and Peter entered. He reminds him that ten years have pa.s.sed since he refused him the favour he demanded. He had given him a mansion, out of which he only begged the use of a single chamber, that will no longer suffice. He now comes to beg a stronghold where he may be safe from his enemies: grant him this, and he will trouble the young man no more. But the latter is concerned only with thoughts of more power for himself: he wants now to rule the souls of men; from the temporal power he would rise to the spiritual; he would be no less than Pope. Having then reached the highest rung of the ladder, he promises to pay the debt he owes to the full. Once more old Peter turns to go, and already the influence is felt. He is at Rome, has been elected Pope, and has reached the summit of his desires.

Seated in the palace of the Lateran, one day an intruder pushes aside the arras. It is old Peter again; he is ninety now, and does not care if they burn him; he has lived his day. He has, however, a favour to ask: he has written a great book, and he wants it preserved for the use of posterity.

Will the Pope see to this? The Pontiff eyes the frowsy parchment with disgust, and when the old man kneels to kiss his foot, he spurns him.

"We're Pope,--once Pope, you can't unpope us!" In a moment the vision was over. The three trial scenes of the Greek's life were played out: he was himself again. The magic was dissolved; he had been tested, had been shown the corruption of his own heart in a moment, though it seemed a lifetime in the pa.s.sing of the vision. Peter lived out his life, but he had never yet learned love. Perhaps in another life that lesson was to come. As for the Greek, nothing is recorded of him. The poet says he may go his way--he is too selfish not to thrive! The moral of the story is that to win men's love we must not merely help them, not merely fling favours at them, but must consecrate ourselves to their service. In the loving service of, and the self-sacrificing endeavour to benefit our fellow-men, lies the secret of winning happiness for ourselves. It is more blessed to give than to receive only when the giving is to man for G.o.d's sake--for the love of G.o.d manifested by efforts on behalf of our fellow-men.

NOTES.--Verse 2, _Petrus ipse_, Peter the very same. v. 9, _True moly_: "A fabulous herb of secret power, having a black root and white blossoms, said by Homer to have been given by Mercury to Ulysses, as a counter-charm against the spells of Circe" (_Webster's Dict._). v. 10, "_Mark within my eye its iris mystic-lettered_": Letters of the alphabet have been seen marked on the human eye as figures on a dial. Mr. Browning said, "that there was an old superst.i.tion that, if you look into the iris of a man's eye, you see the letters of his name or the word telling his fate." (See _Echo_, 23rd March, 1896.) v. 14, "_Petri en pulmones_,"

Behold, the lungs of Peter! v. 15, "_Ipse dixi_," I have said. v. 16, _Hans of Halberstadt_: a canon of Halberstadt, in Germany, who was a magician who rode upon a devil in the shape of a black horse, and who performed the most incredible feats. (See Browning's poem _Transcendentalism_.) v. 19, "_De corde natus haud de mente_," born of heart, not of mind. _Bene_: the first syllables of Benedicite; here the charm begins to work. v. 23, _Plato on "the Fair and Good"_: Emerson, in his essay on Plato, says: Plato taught this as "the cause which led the Supreme Ordainer to produce and compose the universe. He was good; and he who is good has no kind of envy. Exempt from envy, He wished that all things should be as much as possible like Himself. Whosoever, taught by wise men, shall admit this as the prime cause of the origin and foundation of the world, will be in the truth. All things are for the sake of the good, and it is the cause of everything beautiful." v. 26, _Sylla_: the debauched Roman dictator, who gave up his command and retired to a solitary retreat at Puteoli. v. 27, "_Hag Jezebel and her paint and powder_": Jezebel, the wife of Ahab, who "painted her face and tired her head, and looked out at a window" (2 Kings ix. 30). _Jam satis_, already, enough! v. 33, "_Tantalus's treasure_": Tantalus was tortured in h.e.l.l by having food and drink apparently always within his reach, but always eluding his grasp. v. 37, "_Per Bacco_": by Bacchus,--an Italian oath. v.

38, "_Salomo si nosset_," if Solomon had but known this! "_Teneor vix_," I can hardly contain myself! v. 39, _hactenus_, up to this time. "_Nec ultra plus!_" nothing further. _Spelter_, zinc. _Peason_, peas. v. 43, "_Pou sto_," where I may stand. Archimedes said he could move the world if he had a place to stand on. v. 46, _Lateran_: the church of St. John Lateran, in Rome; "the mother and head of all the city and the world," as it is called, was the princ.i.p.al church of Rome after the time of Constantine.

Five important councils have been held here. Adjoining it is the Lateran Palace. "_Gained the purple_": _i.e._, the cardinalate, from the scarlet hat, stockings, and ca.s.sock worn by cardinals. "_Bribed the Conclave_": the meeting of the members of the Sacred College of Cardinals for the election of a pope is called a _conclave_. "_Saw my coop ope_": the cardinals go into conclave on the tenth day after the death of the Pope, attended usually by only one person. No access to the conclave is permitted. An opening is left for food to be pa.s.sed in. The voting must all be done in this a.s.sembly. Each cardinal has a boarded cell in the Vatican a.s.signed him by lot. Voting is carried on till some cardinal is found who has the requisite majority of two-thirds of those who are present. v. 47, _t.i.thon_: a son of Laomedon, king of Troy. He was so beautiful that Aurora fell in love with him and carried him away. He begged her to make him immortal, and the G.o.ddess granted the favour. As he forgot to ask her also to preserve his youth, he became old and decrepid, and begged to be removed from the world. As he could not die, she changed him into a gra.s.shopper. v. 48, "_Conciliator Differentiarum_," conciliator of differences. "_De Speciebus Ceremonialis Magiae_": concerning the kinds of the ceremonial of magic. "_The Fisher's ring, or foot that boasts the Cross_": one of the t.i.tles of the Pope is "the Fisherman," after St.

Peter. His signet is the ring of the Fisherman; the cross is worked on his slipper. v. 49, "_Apage, Sathanas!_" begone Satan! "_Dicam verb.u.m Salomonis_," I command it in the name of Solomon. Peculiar significance is attached by mystical writers to this word Sol-Om-On (the name of the sun in three languages). _Dicite_: the closing syllables of "benedicite," so that the visions had all taken place between _bene_--and--_dicite_. v. 50, _Benedicite!_ a word of good omen, a blessing. "_Idmen, idmen!_" we know, we know! v. 51, _Scientiae Compendium_, compendium of science.

"_Admirationem incut.i.t_": it inspires admiration. _Antipope_: an opposition pope, of which there have been several examples in history; they were usurpers of the popedom. v. 53, _Tiberius Caesar_ (born 42 B.C., died 37 A.D.): Emperor of Rome. When at Padua he consulted the oracle of Geryon, he drew a lot by which he was required to throw golden tali into the fountain of Aponus for an answer to his questions; he did so, and the highest numbers came up. The fountain is situated in the Euganean hills, near Padua. _Oracle of Geryon_: Geryon was a mythical king in Spain who had three bodies, or three heads. _Suetonius Tranquilius_: author of the biographies of the first twelve Roman emperors. v. 54, _Venus_: the highest throw with the four _tali_, or three _tesserae_. The best cast of the _tali_ (or foursided dice) was four different numbers; but the best cast of the _tesserae_ (or ordinary dice) was three sixes. The worst throw was called _canis_--three aces in _tesserae_, and four aces in _tali_.

(Brewer's _Handbook_.)

=Pillar at Sebzevah, A.= (_Ferishtah's Fancies_, II. Key-note: "Love is better than knowledge.") Sage and pupil argue as to which is the better, knowledge or love. The sage says that love far outweighs knowledge; it is objected that an a.s.s loves food, and perhaps the hand that feeds it--why depose knowledge in favour of love? Ferishtah says that all his knowledge only suffices to enable him to say that he loves boundlessly, endlessly.

He had knowledge when a youth, but better knowledge came as he grew older, and pushed it aside; it has been so ever since--the gain of to-day is the loss of to-morrow. It is, in fact, no gain at all: knowledge is not golden, it is but lacquered ignorance. It has a prize: the process of acquiring knowledge is the only reward. But love is victory. In love we are sure to succeed,--there is no delusion there. A child grasps an orange, though he fails to grasp the sun he strives to reach; he may find his orange not worth holding, but the joy was in the shape and colour, and these were better for him than the sun, which would have only burned his fingers. If we can say we are loved in return for the love we bestow, this is to hold a good juicy orange, which is better than seeking to know the mystery of all created things: if we succeeded, it would only be to our own hurt, as the sun would have scorched the child who cried for it. There was a pillar in Sebzevah with a sun-dial fixed upon it. Suppose the townsmen had refused to make use of the dial till they knew the history of the man and his object in erecting the pillar? Better far to go to dinner when the dial says "Noon," and ask no questions. If we love, we know enough. Suppose in crossing the desert we are thirsty, we stoop down and scoop up the sand, and water rises: what need have we to dig down fifty fathoms to find the spring? The best thing we can do is to quench our thirst with the water which is before us: we do not, under the circ.u.mstances, require a cisternful. There is one unlovable thing, and that is hate. If out of the sand we get nothing but sand, let us not pretend to be finding water; let us not nickname pain as pleasure. If knowledge were all our faculty, G.o.d must be ignored; but love gains G.o.d at first leap. The lyric bids us not ask recognition for our love: the deepest affection is the most silent. Words are a poor subst.i.tute for the silence of a long gaze and the touch which reveals the soul.

NOTES.--_Mushtari_, the planet Jupiter (Persian). _Hudhud_: fabulous bird of Solomon, according to Eastern legend: the lapwing, a well-known bird in Asia. _Sitara_: Persian for a star.

=Pippa Pa.s.ses: A Drama.= (_Bells and Pomegranates_, No. I., 1841.) Pippa is the name of a girl employed at the silk mills at Asolo, in the Trevisan, in Northern Italy. In the whole year she has but one holiday: it is New Year's day, and she determines to make the most of it. She springs out of bed as day is breaking, mapping out as she dresses herself what she will do with Morning, Noon, Evening, and Night. She thinks of the four persons whose lot is most to be envied in the little town, and will imagine herself each of these in turn. But she claims that the day will be fine and not ill-use her. There is the great, haughty Ottima, whose husband, old Luca, sleeps in his mansion while his wife makes love; her lover Sebald will be just as devoted, however the rain may beat on the home. Jules, the sculptor, will wed his Phene to-day: nothing can disturb their happiness, their sunbeams are in their own b.r.e.a.s.t.s. Evening may be misty, but Luigi and his lady mother will not heed it. Monsignor will be here from Rome to visit his brother's house: no storm will disturb his holy peace. But for Pippa, the silkwinder, a wet day would darken her whole next year. So her morning fancy starts her as Ottima: all the gardens and the great storehouse are hers. But this is not the kind of love she envies; there's better love, she knows. Her next choice shall give no cause for the scoffer--wedded love, like that of Jules and Phene, for example. But still improvement can be made even upon that: it is, after all, but new love; hers should have lapped her round from the beginning: "only parents' love can last our lives." She will be Luigi, communing with his mother in the turret. But if we come to that, G.o.d's love is better even than that of Monsignor the holy and beloved priest, for to-night Pippa will in fancy have her dwelling in the palace by the Dome.--I. MORNING. Ottima is with her paramour, the German Sebald, in the shrub-house. They have murdered Luca, and are talking calmly of their sin, and contrasting their present freedom with the restraint of last New Year's day. Ottima's husband can no longer fondle her before her lover's face. But there is the corpse to remove, and as Sebald reflects, he begins to regret his treachery to the man who fed and sheltered him. Ottima tells him she loves him better for the crime. They caress each other, and as Sebald fondles Ottima the voice of Pippa singing as she pa.s.ses is heard from without: "G.o.d's in His heaven." Sebald starts, conscience-stricken; Ottima says it is only "that ragged little girl!" At once Sebald is disenchanted; he sees the woman in all the naked horror of her crimes; all her grace and beauty are gone; he hates and curses her. The woman takes the guilt all upon her own head, and prays for him, not for herself: forgetting self, she thinks only of Sebald. "Not me--to him, O G.o.d, be merciful!" To her guilty soul also comes the reflection, "G.o.d's in His heaven." In self-sacrifice begins her redemption. Pippa has converted both. While Pippa is pa.s.sing to Orcana, some students from Venice are discussing a jest they have played off on Jules. They have, by means of sham letters which they have concocted between them and sent him as coming from the girl he loves, induced him to believe she was a cultivated woman, and he has been deceived into marrying her.--II. NOON. When the ceremony is over the truth is told him. He gives his bride gold, and is preparing to separate from her, when Pippa pa.s.ses, singing "Give her but a least excuse to love me!" Jules reasons, Here is a woman with utter need of him.

She has an awakening moral sense, a soul like his own sculptured Psyche, waiting his word to make it bright with life--he will evoke this woman's soul in some isle in far-off seas! He forgives her. Pippa's song has worked the reconciliation.--III. EVENING. Luigi and his mother are conversing in the turret on the hill above Asolo. Luigi is what has been termed a "patriot"; he is suspected of belonging to the secret society of the Carbonari, and is at the moment actually discussing with his mother a plot to kill the Emperor of Austria. His mother tells him that half the ills of Italy are feigned, that patriotism seems the easiest virtue for a selfish man to acquire. She urges him to delay his journey to Vienna till the morning. Endeavouring to dissuade him thus, he is on the point of yielding, when Pippa pa.s.ses, singing "No need the king should ever die!"

"Not that sort of king," says Luigi. "Such grace had kings when the world began!" continues the pa.s.sing Pippa. Luigi says, "It is G.o.d's voice calls," and he goes away. He thereby escapes the police, who had just arranged that if he remained at the turret over the night, he was to be arrested at once. Pippa goes on from the turret to the Bishop's brother's home, near the Cathedral.--IV. NIGHT. And here we are shown how little we poor puppets know of the strings which prompt our movements. Pippa would be Ottima, the murderess; and as she, the poor but good and happy silkwinder, trudges on her way to make the holiday of the year, the voluptuous murderess is purifying her wicked soul in agony. She sings in the lightness of her heart, and a line of her morning hymn is the arrow of G.o.d to two sinful souls. She would be the bride of Jules--the bride who has just been detected in fraud, on the point of rejection, and who has been redeemed by the s.n.a.t.c.h of Pippa's innocent monition. She would be the happy Luigi, who would have failed in a purpose he deemed to be a n.o.ble one, and would have been a prisoner in the hands of the Austrian police if he had not been nerved by her careless eulogy of good kings. And now, as she approaches her ideally perfect persons, the holy Monsignor is actually engaged in taking steps for her ruin. His superintendent is explaining a plan he has elaborated for getting rid of Pippa, who is the child of his brother, and to whom the property he is holding rightfully belongs. The superintendent has found an English scoundrel named Bluphocks, residing in the locality, who will entrap the girl and take her to Rome to lead a vicious life, which will kill her in a few years. The bishop is listening to the tempter, when Pippa pa.s.ses, singing one of her innocent little songs, ending with the line--

"Suddenly G.o.d took me."

This awakens the conscience of the ecclesiastic, who calls his servants to arrest the villain. All unconscious, as night falls Pippa re-enters her chamber. She has been in fancy the holy Monsignor, Luigi's gentle mother, Luigi himself, Jules the sculptor's bride, and Ottima as well. Tired of fooling, she notices that the sun has dropped into a black cloud, and as night comes on she wonders how nearly she has approached these people of her fancy, to do them good or evil in some slight way; and as she falls asleep she murmurs--

"All service ranks the same with G.o.d-- With G.o.d, whose puppets, best and worst, Are we: there is no last nor first."

The drama shows us how near G.o.d is to us in conscience. "G.o.d stands apart," as the poet says, "to give man room to work"; but in every great crisis of our life, if we listen we may hear Him warning, threatening, guiding, revealing. Not near to answer problems of existence, or to solve the mystery of life: this would interfere with our development of soul; but near to save us from the dangers that await us at every step. The drama shows us, too, our mutual interdependence. Pippa, the silk-girl, had a mission to convert Ottima, Sebald, Jules, and the Bishop. We look for great things to work for us: it is ever the unseen, unfelt influences which are the most potent. We are taught, also, that there is nothing we do or say but may be big with good or evil consequences to many of our fellows of whom we know nothing. People whom we have never seen, of whose very existence we are ignorant, are affected for good or evil eternally by our lightest words and our most thoughtless actions.

NOTES.--For an account of _Asolo_ see p. 49 of this work. Silk in large quant.i.ties is manufactured in this part of Italy. There is no historical foundation for any of the incidents of the poem. The song in Part II., which Jules and Phene hear, relates, however, to Caterina Carnaro, the exiled Queen of Cyprus. _Possagno_: an obscure village situated amongst the hills of Asolo, famous as the birthplace of Canova, the sculptor.

_Cicala_: a gra.s.shopper.--I. MORNING. "_The Capuchin with his brown hood_": the Capuchin monks are familiar to all travellers in Italy. They are a branch of the great Franciscan Order. The habit is brown. The Order was established by St. Francis in the thirteenth century. "Cappuccino"

means playfully "little hooded fellow." "_Campanula chalice_": the bell of a flower, as of a Canterbury-bell. "_Bluphocks_": the name means "Blue Fox," and is a skit on the _Edinburgh Review_, which is bound in a cover of blue and fox. "_Et canibus nostris_," even to our dogs. _Canova, Antonio_ (1757-1822), one of the greatest sculptors of modern times. He was born at Pa.s.sagno, near Asolo, the scene of Pippa's drama.

"_Psiche-fanciulla_": Psyche as a young girl with a b.u.t.terfly, the personification of man's immaterial part. This sculpture is considered as the most faultless and cla.s.sical of Canova's works. _Pieta_: sculpture representing the Virgin Mary holding the dead body of Christ on her knees.

_Malamocco_: "The Lagoon, immediately opposite to Venice, is closed by a long shoaly island, Malamocco" (_Murray_). _Alciphron_: lived in the age of Alexander the Great. He was a philosopher of Magnesia. _Lire_: the lira is an Italian coin of the value of a franc (say, tenpence). _Tydeus_, a son of neus, king of Colydon. He was one of the great heroes of the Theban war.--II. NOON. _Coluthus_, a native of Lycopolis, in Egypt, who wrote a poem on the rape of Helen of Troy. He lived probably about the beginning of the sixth century. _Bessarion_: Cardinal Bessarion discovered the poem of Coluthus in Lycopolis in the fifteenth century. _Odyssey_: Homer's poem which narrates the adventures of Ulysses. _Antinous_: One of the suitors of Penelope during the absence of Odysseus. He attempted to seize the kingdom and was killed by Odysseus on his return. _Almaign Kaiser_: the German Emperor. _Hippolyta_: a queen of the Amazons, who was conquered by Hercules, and by him given in marriage to Theseus. _Numidia_: a country of North Africa, now called Algiers. _Hipparchus_: a son of Pisistratus, and tyrant of Athens. He was a great patron of literature.

His crimes led to his a.s.sa.s.sination by a band of conspirators, the leaders of which were Harmodius and Aristogiton. _Archetype_: the pattern or model of a work. _Dryad_: a wood-nymph. _Primordial_, original. _Cornaro_: Queen of Cyprus. Venice took her kingdom from her, and compelled her to resign, a.s.signing her a palace at Asolo. _Ancona_: a city of central Italy, on the sh.o.r.es of the Adriatic. _Intendant_, a superintendent. "_Celarent, Darii, Ferio_": coined words used in logic. "_Bishop Beveridge_": there was a bishop of that name; but this is a pun, and means beverage (drink).

_Zwanziger_: a twenty-kreuzer piece of money. "_Charon's wherry_": Charon was a G.o.d of h.e.l.l, who conducted souls across the river Styx.

_Lupine-seed_, in plant-lore "lupine" means wolfish, and is suggestive of the Evil One. (_Flower-lore_, by Friend, p. 59.) _Hecate_, a G.o.ddess of h.e.l.l, to whom offerings were made of eggs, fish, and onions. _Obolus_, a silver coin of the Greeks, worth 8_d._ They used to put it into the mouth of the corpse as Charon's fee. "_To pay the Stygian ferry_": the river Styx, in the infernal regions, across which Charon conducted the souls, and received an obolus for his fee. _Prince Metternich_ (1773-1859): a celebrated Austrian statesman. _Panurge_: a character of Rabelais'. He was a companion of Pantagruel's. He was an impecunious rake and dodger, a boon companion and licentious coward. _Hertrippa_: one of Rabelais' characters in his _Gargantua and Pantagruel_. _Carbonari_: the name of an Italian secret society which arose in 1820. _Spielberg_: the name of a hill near Brunn, in Moravia, on which stands the castle wherein Silvio Pellico the patriot was confined.--III. EVENING. _Lucius Junius Brutus_, whose example animated the Romans to rise against the tyranny of the infamous Tarquin.

_Pellicos_: Silvio Pellico was an Italian dramatist and patriot (1788-1854). He was arrested as a member of a secret society by the Austrian Government, and imprisoned for fifteen years in Spielberg Castle, near Brunn. "_The t.i.tian at Treviso_": Treviso is a town in Italy, seventeen miles from Venice. In the cathedral of San Pietro there is a fine Annunciation by t.i.tian (1519). _Python_: the monster serpent slain by Apollo near Delphi. _Breganze wine_: of Breganza, a village north of Vicenza.--IV. NIGHT. _Benedicto benedicatur_: a form of blessing.

_a.s.sumption Day_: the festival of the a.s.sumption of the Virgin into Heaven. It is kept on August 15th. _Correggio_: one of the great Italian painters (1494-1534). _Podere_, a manor. _Cesena_: an episcopal city lying between Bologna and Ancona. _Soldo_, a penny. "_Miserere mei, Domine_,"

"Have mercy on me, O G.o.d!" _Brenta_, a river of North Italy. _Polenta_, a pudding of chestnut flour, etc.

=Pisgah-Sights.= (_Pacchiarotto_ volume, 1876.) 1. From a high mountain the roughness and smoothness of the distant landscape seem to blend into a harmonious picture, the uncouthness is hidden by the grace, the angles are blunted into roundness, its harshness is reconciled into a beautiful whole. If we could be taken by angelic hands and be borne a few miles beyond the surface of the earth, all her mountains would dwindle down till the rough, scarred and furrowed earth would become a perfect orb. A little nearer heaven, and a little farther away from the scene of our pilgrimage here, and evil and sorrow and pain and want will all soften down and be lost in good and joy and blessedness. We are too close to things here to get the right view of their proportions; a handbreadth off, and things which are mysteries to us now will be clear as the daylight. All will be seen as lend and borrow, good will be recognised as the brother of evil, and joy will be seen to demand sorrow for its completion. Why man's existence must so be mixed we cannot say; the majority only begin to see the round orb of things as they near the end of their journey. 2. If we could live our life over again, would we strive any longer? Would we exercise greed and ambition, burrow for earth's treasures, soar for the sun's rights, or not rather be content with turf and foliage--just plain learners of life's lessons, with no attempt to teach, with no desire to rearrange anything at all? Should we not be stationary while the march of hurrying men defiling past us, made us complacent at our post, reflecting that the only possibility of fearing, wondering at, or loving anything at all, lay in our keeping, at a respectful distance from everything which men were hurrying to seek? 3. If it be better to forget than to forgive, so is it better than living to die, to let body slumber while soul, as Indian sages tell, wanders at large, fretless and free, enc.u.mbered nevermore by body's grossness, soul in sunshine and love, body under mosses and ferns.

NOTE.--V. 2, _Deniers_, small copper French coins of insignificant value.

=Plot-Culture.= (_Ferishtah's Fancies_, 10: "G.o.d's All-Seeing Eye.") "If all we do or think or say be marked minute by minute by the Supreme, may not our very making prove offence to the Maker's eye and ear?" Thus argued a disciple. The Dervish answers, "There is a limit-line rounding us, severing us from the immensity, cutting us from the illimitable. All of us is for the Maker; all the produce we can within the circle produce for the Master's use is His in autumn. He wants to know nothing of the manure which fertilises the soil--of this we are masters absolute; but we must remember doomsday. In the lyric the singer indicates the uses of Sense as distinguished from Soul. "Soul, travel-worn, toil-weary," is not for love-making; for that let Sense quench Soul!

=Poetics.= (_Asolando_, 1889.) The singer says the foolish call their Love "My rose," "My swan," or they compare her to the maid-moon blessing the earth below. He will have none of this: he tells the rose there is no balm like breath; bids the swan bend its neck its best,--his love's is the whiter curve. Let the moon be the moon,--he is not afraid to place his Love beside it. She is her human self, and no lower words will describe her.

=Polyxena.= (_King Victor and King Charles._) The wife of King Charles: full of resolution, and instinctively sees the right thing, and does it at the appropriate moment. Her "n.o.ble and right woman's manliness," as Mr.

Browning calls it, enables her to counteract her husband's weakness and to clear his mental vision. Magnanimous and loyal to all, especially to herself and truth, she is one of the poet's finest female characters.

=Pompilia.= (_The Ring and the Book._) She was the wife of Count Guido Franceschini, and he killed her, with her foster-parents, when she escaped from his cruel treatment and fled to Rome with the good priest Caponsacchi. She is Browning's n.o.blest and most beautiful female character. There is an excellent study of Pompilia in _Poet Lore_, vol.

i., p. 263. The keynote of her character is found in the line of the poem--

"I knew the right place by foot's feel; I took it, and tread firm there."

=Ponte dell' Angelo= (Venice) == The Angel's Bridge. (_Asolando_, 1889.) Boverio, in his _Annals_, 1552, n. 69, relates this legend of Our Lady. It is recorded at length in _The Glories of Mary_, by St. Alphonsus Liguori (p. 192), a curious work which contains a great number of such stories, which have for their moral the efficacy of prayers to Our Lady as a protection from the devil. On one of the large ca.n.a.ls at Venice is a house with the figure of an angel guarding it from harm. Once upon a time (says Father Boverio in his _Annals_) this house belonged to a lawyer, who was a cruel oppressor of all who sought his advice; never was such an extortionate rascal, though a devout one. On one occasion, after a particularly lucrative week, he determined to ask some holy man to dinner, as he could not get the memory of a widow whom he had wronged out of his mind; so he invited the chief of the Capucins to disinfect his house by his holy presence. The monk duly presented himself, and was informed that a most admirable helpmate in the house was an ape, who worked for him indefatigably. The host leaves his guest for awhile, that he may go below to see how the dinner progresses. No sooner had the lawyer left the room than the monk, by the instinct which saints possess for detecting the devil under every disguise, adjures the ape to come out of his hiding-place and show himself _in propria persona_. Satan stands forth, and explains that he is there to convey to h.e.l.l the lawyer who plagued the widows and orphans by his exactions. The monk asks how it came to pa.s.s that he had so long delayed G.o.d's commission by acting as servant where he should have been a minister of justice. The devil explains that the lawyer had placed himself under the Virgin's protection by the prayers which he never intermitted; thus the man is armed in mail, and cannot be lugged off to h.e.l.l while saying, "Save me, Madonna!" If he should discontinue that prayer, Satan would pounce on him at once. He waits, therefore, hoping to catch him napping. The holy man adjures him to vanish. The fiend says he cannot leave the house without doing some damage to prove that his errand had been fulfilled. The saint bade him make his exit through the wall, and leave a gap in the stone for every one to see, which, having duly been done, the monk goes downstairs to dinner with a good appet.i.te. The host asks what has become of the ape, whose a.s.sistance he requires, and is terrified to see his guest wringing blood from the table napkin. It is explained that the miracle is performed to show him how he has wrung blood from his clients, and the host is bidden to go down on his knees and swear to make rest.i.tution. The man consents, and absolution following, he is forthwith taken upstairs to see the hole in the wall left by the devil exorcised by his saintship. The lawyer fears that Satan may use the aperture of exit for an entry to his dwelling at a future time, when the Capucin bids him erect the figure of an angel and place it by the aperture, which holy sign will frighten the fiend away. And this is why the house by the bridge has the angel on the escutcheon, and why the bridge itself is called the Angel's Bridge, though Mr. Browning thinks the Devil's Bridge would have been as good a name for it.

=Pope, The.= (_The Ring and the Book._) The final appeal in the Franceschini murder case being to the Pope, he has to decide the fate of the Count. He reviews the whole case in the tenth book, and gives his decision for the execution of the murderers. Browning's old men are some of his greatest creations, and _The Pope_ is perhaps the finest of such conceptions. There is an excellent essay on _The Pope_ in _Poet Lore_, vol i., p. 309, by Professor Shackford.