The Browning Cyclopædia: A Guide to the Study of the Works of Robert Browning

‘I cannot kneel to you?Never seem you – shall I speak the truth? —Never a God to me!’Tis the man’s hand,Eye, voice!’”

Djabal has deceived himself into a half belief in the sanctity of his mission; but as the day approaches when he is to fulfil his promises his heart fails him, and he loses faith in himself. He struggles with his own heart, and endeavours to be true to himself and people; but he has gone too far, the circumstances in which he is placed are too strong for him, and he is driven forward on the course on which he has entered. He now resolves to solve the difficulty by flight. He will make his escape, but before he does so will kill the prefect with his own hands. He is on his way to the tyrant’s chamber when he meets Anael, and learns from her that she has slain the prefect. He now tells her everything. At first she declines to believe in his falseness; but when a conviction of the truth is forced upon her she refuses to drive him from her heart. The Divine nature of Djabal has been in a sense an obstacle to her love in his character as Hakeem. He has seemed too remote for her merely human affection, and she has never deemed herself worthy to be associated with him in his exaltation. In her determination to kill the tyrant, and in the accomplishment of that act of patriotism, she has been actuated principally by her desire to elevate herself to his level, so that she might have a principal share in the liberation of her nation. They now discover that the murder need not have been committed. Lois de Dreux, the young nobleman who has accompanied Djabal from Europe, has fallen in love with Anael also; and though prohibited by the rules of the Order of knighthood of which he is a postulant, to entangle himself with women, he has aspired to win her love. Lois has represented to the chapter of the Order the cruelties inflicted by their prefect on the people, and has succeeded in obtaining an order for his removal. The young Frankish knight has been elevated by the Order to the position occupied by the deposed governor, so that the liberation of the Druses is now close at hand. Anael urges Djabal to confess his deception and own his imposition to his people. This he refuses to do. She cannot forgive him. When she finds him false and cowardly she takes upon herself to denounce him to the European rulers of the island. Djabal is brought to trial. His accuser is Anael, who is closely veiled till the appropriate moment, when the veil drops, and he is confronted by his lover. His life hangs upon her words. He urges her to speak them; but this she cannot do. Djabal is now man, and man only: he is not separated from her by his Divine nature. She could hardly hope to be one with him in his glory: she can at least be united with him in his degradation and disgrace. All her love for him rises within her, and she hails him “Hakeem!” and falls dead at his feet. The human heart has proved victorious, and the man has conquered the god. Djabal, committing the care of the Druses to his friend Lois, and bidding him guard his people home again and win their blessing for the deed, stabs himself as he bends over the body of the faithful Anael. As he dies the Venetians enter the place and plant the Lion of St. Mark. Djabal’s last cry mingles with their shouts, “On to the mountain! At the mountain, Druses!”

Notes – Act i., Rhodian cross: that of the Knights of St. John (see below). Osman, who founded the Ottoman empire in Asia. White-cross knights: the Knights Hospitallers. They wore a white cross of eight points on a black ground. From 1278 till 1289, when engaged on military duties, they wore a plain straight white cross on a red ground. Patriarch: in Eastern churches a dignitary superior to an archbishop, as the Patriarch of Constantinople, Alexandria, etc. Nuncio: an ambassador from the Pope to an emperor or king. Hospitallers: an order of knights who built a hospital at Jerusalem, in A.D. 1042, for pilgrims. They were called Knights of St. John, and after the removal of the order to Malta Knights of Malta. Candia: the ancient Crete. It was sold to the Venetians in 1194. Rhodes: an island of the Mediterranean. “pro fide”: for the faith. “Bouillon’s war”: the crusade of Godfrey de Bouillon. – Act ii., “sweet cane”: Acorus calamus. It grows in the Levant and in this country; is very aromatic, having a smell when trodden on like incense. Miss Pratt says it has been used from time immemorial for strewing the floors of Norwich Cathedral. Lilith: Adam’s first wife (see note to Adam, Lilith and Eve, and art. Lilith). “incense from a mage-king’s tomb”: students of occult science say that sweet odours have been known to issue from the tombs of magicians, and lamps have been found burning therein when broken open. khandjar: an Eastern weapon. – Act. iii., The venerable chapter: the meeting of an order or community. Bezants: gold coins of Byzantium. “Red-cross rivals of the Temple”: the order of the “Knights Templars” (see notes to The Heretics’ Tragedy). They wore a red cross of eight points. – Act iv., Tiar: a tiara. – Act v., Biamrallah: Hakem Biamr Allah, sixth Fatimite Caliph of Egypt. Fatemite, or Fatimite: named from Fatima, the daughter of Mohammed and wife of Ali, from whom the founder of the dynasty of Fatimites professed to have sprung. “Romaioi, Ioudaioite kai proselutoi” (Gr., Acts ii. 10, 11): “Strangers of Rome, Jews and proselytes.”

Reverie. (Asolando, 1889.) In Mr. Browning’s last volume, published in London as he lay dying in Venice, the two closing poems seem strangely and nobly intended to gather into a focus his whole philosophy of life, and give to the world, in two of his most exquisite poems, his fullest and clearest expressions of the faith of his heart and the quintessence of his teaching. Had the poet known they were the last lines he should write, had he foreseen that these were the last accents of his message, it is impossible to imagine that he could have risen higher than he has done in Reverie and the “Epilogue.” The purport of Reverie is to reconcile the ideas of Power and Love – to reconcile by proving them indeed to be one. “Power is Love.” When power is no longer limited, then is the reign of love. As Mr. Browning says in Paracelsus, “with much power always much more love.” That “The All-Great” is “The All-Loving too,” is the teaching of Christianity. That power, in its perfection, must necessarily be love, is a point in Mr. Browning’s philosophical system arrived at independently of dogma. It is the monistic conception of the forces that mould life, as opposed to the dualistic conception. The Power everywhere visible in the universe, pervading everything, in all things from the atom to the sun, making man feel his utter helplessness and insignificance, requires no further demonstration. We are assured that Power is dominant. Our only difficulty is about Love. In face of the evil in the world, the inequalities in life, the dominance of evil, can we say with truth that the All-Powerful is the All-Loving too? Browning in Reverie says that truth comes before us here “fitful and half guessed, half seen, grasped at, not gained, held fast.” Notwithstanding this defect, a single page of the world’s wide book, properly deciphered, explains the whole. We must try the clod ere we test the star; know all our earth elements ere we apply the spectroscope to Mars. It is true that good struggles but evil reigns; yet earth’s good is proved good and incontrovertibly worth loving, and evil can be nothing but a cloud stretched across good’s orb – no orb itself. There is no doubt whatever about the infinity of the power. There is equally no doubt about the value of the good so far as it goes. Let power “but enlarge good’s strait confine,” and perfection stands revealed. “Let on Power devolve Good’s right to co-equal reign!” What is wanted is some law which abolishes everywhere that which thwarts good. And the poet avows his confidence that somewhen Good will praise God unisonous with Power.

Richard, Count of St. Bonifacio (father and son). (Sordello.) Guelfs. In a secret chamber in his palace Palma and Sordello hold earnest conference with each other in the first book of the poem.

Ring and the Book, The. In twelve books. Published in four volumes, each consisting of three books, from 1868 to 1869.

Book I. – When a Roman jeweller makes a ring, he mingles his pure gold with a certain amount of alloy, so as to enable it to bear file and hammer; but, the ring having been fashioned, the alloy is dissolved out with acid, and the ring in all its purity and beauty of pure gold remains perfect. So much for the Ring. For the Book it happened thus: – Mr. Browning was one day wandering about the Square of St. Lorenzo, in Florence, which on that occasion was crammed with booths where odd things of all sorts were for sale; and in one of them he purchased for eightpence an old square yellow book, part print, part manuscript, with this summary of its contents: —

“A Roman murder case;Position of the entire criminal causeOf Guido Franceschini, nobleman,With certain Four the cut-throats in his pay.Tried, all five, and found guilty and put to deathBy heading or hanging as befitted ranks,At Rome, on February Twenty-Two,Since our Salvation Sixteen Ninety-Eight:Wherein it is disputed if, and when,Husbands may kill adulterous wives, yet ’scapeThe customary forfeit.”

As before the ring was fashioned the pure gold lay in the ingot, so the pure virgin truth of the murder case lay in this book; but it was not in a presentable form and such as a poet could use. As the jeweller adds a little alloy to permit the artistic working of the Ring, so the poet must mix his poetic fancy with the simple legal evidence contained in the Book, and in this manner work up the history for popular edification. And thus we have The Ring and the Book. The simple, hard, legal documents opened the story thus. The accuser and the accused said, in the persons of their advocates, as follows: – The Public Prosecutor demands the punishment of Count Guido Franceschini and his accomplices, for the murder of his wife. Then the Patron of the Poor – the counsel acting on behalf of the accused – protests that Count Guido ought rather to be rewarded, with his four conscientious friends, as sustainers of law and society. It is true, he says, that he killed his wife, but he did it laudably. Then the case was postponed. It was argued that the woman slaughtered was a saint and martyr. More postponement. Then it was argued that she was a miracle of lust and impudence. More witnesses, precedents, and authorities called and quoted on both sides:

“Thus wrangled, brangled, jangled they a month,” —

only on paper – all the pleadings were in print. The Court pronounced Count Guido guilty, his murdered wife Pompilia pure in thought, word and deed; and signed sentence of death against the whole five accused. But Guido’s counsel had a reserve shot. The Count, as was the frequent custom in those days, was in one of the minor orders of the priesthood, and claimed clerical privilege. Appeal was therefore made to the Pope. Roman society began to talk, the quality took the husband’s part, the Pope was benevolent and unwilling to take life: Guido stood a chance of getting off. But the Pope was shrewd and conscientious; and having mastered the whole matter, said, “Cut off Guido’s head to-morrow, and hang up his mates.” And it was so done. Thus much was untempered gold, as discovered in the little old book. But we want to know more of the matter, and in four volumes (of the original edition) Mr. Browning satisfies us. Who was the handsome young priest, Canon Caponsacchi, who carried off the wife? Who were the old couple, the Comparini, Pietro and his spouse, who, on a Christmas night in a lonely villa, were murdered with Pompilia? Mr. Browning has ferreted it out for us mixed his fancy with the facts to bring them home to us the better. He has been to Arezzo, the Count’s city – the wife’s “trap and cage and torture place.” He stopped at Castelnuovo, where husband and wife and priest for first and last time met face to face. He passed on to Rome the goal, to the home of Pompilia’s foster-parents. He conjures up the vision of the dreadful night when Guido and his wolves cried to the escaped wife, “Open to Caponsacchi!” and the door was opened, showing the mother of the two-weeks’-old babe and her parents the Comparini. He ponders all the story in his soul in Italy, and in London when he returns home; till the ideas take clear shape in his mind, and the whole story lives again in his brain, and he can reproduce for us the facts as they must have occurred. Count Guido Franceschini was descended of an ancient though poor family. He was

“A beak-nosed, bushy-bearded, black-haired lord,Lean, pallid, low of stature, yet robust,Fifty years old.”

He married Pompilia Comparini – young, good, beautiful – at Rome, where she was born; and brought her to his home at Arezzo, where they lived miserable lives. That she might find peace, the wife had run away, in company of the priest Giuseppe Caponsacchi, to her parents at Rome; and the husband had followed with four accomplices, and catching her in a villa on a Christmas night with her parents (putative parents really), had killed the three; the wife being seventeen years old, and the Comparini, husband and wife, seventy. There was Pompilia’s infant, Guido’s firstborn son, but he had previously put it in a place of safety.

Notes. – Line 7, Castellani: a celebrated Roman jeweller (Piazza di Trevi 86), who executes admirable imitations from Greek, Etruscan, and Byzantine models. Chiusi: a very ancient Etruscan city, full of antiquities and famous for its tombs. l. 27, rondure, a round. l. 45, Baccio Bandinelli, a sculptor of Florence (1497-1559). l. 47, “John of the Black Bands”: Father of Cosimo I., Giovanni delle Bande Neri. l. 48, Riccardi: the palace of one of the great families of Florence. l. 49, San Lorenzo, the great church so named in Florence. l. 77, Spicilegium, a collection made from the best writers. l. 114, “Casa Guidi, by Felice Church”: this was the residence of the Brownings at Florence when he bought the little book. l. 223, Justinian, Emperor of the East A.D. 527. His name is immortalised by his code of laws; Baldo, an eminent professor of the civil law, and also of canon law, born in 1327; Bartolo of Perugia, a professor of civil law, under whom Baldo studied; Dolabella, the name of a Roman family; Theodoric, king of the Ostrogoths (c. A.D. 454-526); Ælian, a writer on natural history in the time of Adrian. l. 263, Presbyter, Primæ tonsuræ, Subdiaconus, Sacerdos: these are some of the different steps to the priesthood in the Roman Church – that is to say, First tonsure, subdeacon, deacon, priest. l. 284, Ghetto, the Jewish quarter in Rome. l. 300, Pope Innocent XII. was Antonio Pignatelli. He reigned from 1691 to 1700. He introduced many reforms into the Church, and, after a holy and self-abnegating life, died on September 27th, 1700; Jansenists, followers of Jansen, who taught Calvinism in the Catholic Church; Molinists, followers of Molinos, who taught Arminianism in the Catholic Church; Nepotism, favouritism to relations. l. 435, temporality: the material interests of the Catholic Church. l. 490, “gold snow Jove rained on Rhodes”: as the Rhodians were the first who offered sacrifices to Minerva, Jupiter rewarded them by covering the island with a golden cloud, from which he sent showers of treasures on the people. l. 495, Datura: the thorn apple – stramonium. l. 496, lamp-fly == a fire-fly. l. 868, Æacus, son of Jupiter; on account of his just government made judge in the lower regions with Minos and Rhadamanthus. l. 898, “Bernini’s Triton fountain:” in the great square of the Barberini Palace, the Tritons blowing the water from a conch-shell. l. 1028, “chrism and consecrative work”: Chrism is the oil used in ordination, etc., in the Roman and Greek Catholic Churches. l. 1030, lutanist, one who plays on the lute. l. 1128, “Procurator of the Poor”: a proctor, an attorney who acts on behalf of the poor. l. 1161, Fisc, a king’s solicitor, an attorney-general. l. 1209, clavicinist, one who plays on the clavichord. l. 1212, rondo == rondeau, a species of lively melody with a recurring refrain; suite, a connected series of musical compositions. l. 1214, Corelli, Arcangelo, Italian musical composer; Haendel, Handel the musician. l. 1311, “Brotherhood of Death”: the Confraternity of the Misericordia, or Brothers of Mercy, who prepare criminals for death and attend funerals as an act of charity. l. 1328, Mannai, a sort of guillotine. – This seems a fitting place in which to insert the following note, which serves to explain the origin of the great poem: —

In The Christian Register of Boston for Jan. 19th, 1888, there is an article entitled “An Eagle Feather,” by the Rev. John W. Chadwick, of Brooklyn. This clergyman visited Mr. Browning and asked him, “And how about the book of The Ring and the Book? Had he made up that, too, or was there really such a book? There was indeed; and would we like to see it? There was little doubt of that; and it was produced, and the story of his buying it for ‘eightpence English just’ was told, but need not be retold here, for in The Ring and the Book it is set down with literal truth. The appearance and character of the book, moreover, are exactly what the poem represents. It is part print, part manuscript, ending with two epistolary accounts, if I remember rightly, of Guido’s execution, written by the lawyers in the case. It was an astonishing ‘find,’ and it is passing strange that a book compiled so carefully should have been brought to such a low estate. Mr. Browning did not seem at all inclined to toss it in the air and catch it, as he does in verse. He handled it very carefully, and with evident affection. I asked him if it did not make him very happy to have created such a woman as Pompilia; and he said, ‘I assure you that I found her just as she speaks and acts in my poem, in that old book.’ There was that in his tone that made it evident Caponsacchi had a rival lover without blame. Of the old pope of the poem, too, he spoke with real affection. He told us how he had found a medal of him in a London antiquary’s shop, had left it meaning to come back for it; came back, and found that it had gone. But the shopman told him Lady Houghton (Mrs. Richard Monckton Milnes) had taken it. ‘You will lend it to me,’ said Mr. Browning to her, ‘in case I want it some time to be copied for an illustration?’ She preferred giving it to him; had most likely intended doing so when she bought it. It was in a pretty little box, and had a benignant expression, exactly suited to the character of the good pope in the poem. As a further proof that all is grist that comes to some folks’ mills, there was a picture of the miserable Count Guido Franceschini on his execution day, which some one had come upon in a London printshop and sent to Mr. Browning.”

Mr. Browning having told the incidents of the story in all their principal details, might, in the ordinary way, have considered this sufficient. He has reserved nothing till the last, and in the usual way would have destroyed the interest of his remaining volumes had he been a mere story-teller. His purpose, however, was different. He will now take the principal actors in the tragedy, and separately and at length let them give their account of it in their own language and according to their own view of the case. He will, moreover, give his readers the opposing views of the two halves into which the Roman populace have been divided on the murders. He will introduce us to the Pope considering the course of action he is called upon to pursue as supreme judge of the matter; and the very lawyers, who are preparing their briefs and getting up their speeches, will also have their say. We shall thus have this many-sided subject put before us in every possible way; and we shall be enabled to follow the windings of the human mind on such a subject as though we were centred in the breast, in turn, of each of the actors in the dreadful drama. We have, therefore, in

Book I., The dry facts of the case in brief;

Book II., Half Rome (the view of those antagonistic to the wife);

Book III., The Other Half Rome (representing the opinion of those who take her part);

Book IV., Tertium Quid (a third party, neither wholly on one side nor the other);

Book V., Count Guido Franceschini (his own defence);

Book VI., Giuseppe Caponsacchi (the Canon’s explanation);

Book VII., Pompilia (her story, as she told it on her deathbed to the nuns);

Book VIII., Dominus Hyacinthus de Archangelis (Count Guido’s counsel and his speech for the defence);

Book IX., Juris Doctor Johannes-Baptista Bottinius (the Public Prosecutor’s speech);

Book X., The Pope (who in this book reviews the whole case, and gives his decision in Guido’s appeal to him);

Book XI., Guido (his last interview in prison with his spiritual advisers);

Book XII., The Book and the Ring (the conclusion of the whole matter).

Book II., Half Rome. – A great crowd had assembled at the church of St. Lorenzo-in-Lucina, hard by the Corso, to view the bodies of the murdered Comparini exposed to view before the altar. It was at this very church where Pompilia was baptised, brought by her pretended mother, who had purchased her to palm off on her husband in his dotage, and so cheat the heirs. To this very altar-step whereon the bodies lie did Violante, twelve years after, bring Pompilia to marry the Count clandestinely. It is four years since the marriage, and from dawn till dusk the multitude has crowded into the church, coming and going, pushing their way, and taking their turn to see the victims and talk over the tragedy. We have the story told by a partisan of the husband, who does not think he was so prodigiously to blame, he says. The Comparini (the wife’s reputed parents) were of the modest middle class, born in that quarter of Rome, and citizens of good repute, childless and wealthy; possessed of house and land in Rome, and a suburban villa. But Pietro craved an heir, and seventeen years ago Violante announced that, spite of her age, an heir would soon be forthcoming. By a trick, Pompilia, the infant, was produced at the appropriate time – whereat Pietro rejoiced, poor fool! As Violante had caught one fish, she must try again, and find a husband for the girl. Count Guido was head of an old noble house, but not over-rich. He had come up to Rome to better his fortune, was friend and follower of a certain cardinal, and had a brother a priest, Paolo. Looking out for some petty post or other, he waited thirty years, till, as he was growing grey, he thought it time to go and be wise at home. At this moment Violante threw her bait, Pompilia. She thought it a great catch to find a noble husband for the child and the shelter of a palace for herself in her old age; and so old Pietro’s daughter became Guido Franceschini’s lady-wife. Pietro was not consulted till all was over, when he pretended to be very indignant. All went to Arezzo to enjoy the luxury of lord-and-lady-ship. They were soon undeceived. They discovered that they had exchanged their comfortable bourgeois home for a sepulchral old mansion, the street’s disgrace, to pick garbage from a pewter plate and drink vinegar from a common mug. They sighed for their old home, their daily feast of good food and their festivals of better. Robbed, starved and frozen, they declared they would have justice. Guido’s old lady-mother, Beatrice, was a dragon; Guido’s brother, Girolamo, a bad licentious man. Four months of this purgatory was sufficient. Pietro made his complaints all over the town; Violante exposed the penurious housekeeping to every willing ear. Bidding Arezzo rot, they departed for home. Once more at Rome, Violante thought of availing herself of the Jubilee and making a full confession and restitution. She told the truth about Pompilia: how she had been purchased by her several months before birth from a disreputable laundry-woman, partly to please her husband, partly to defraud the rightful heirs. Was this due to contrition or revenge? Prove Pompilia not their child, there was no dowry to pay according to agreement. Guido would then be the biter bit. Guido took the view that all this was done to cheat him. He protested, and being left alone with his wife, revenged his wrongs on her. The case came before the Roman courts. Guido being absent, the Abate, his clerical brother, had to take his part. The courts refused to intervene. Appeals and counter-appeals followed. Pompilia’s shame and her parents’ disgrace were published to the world; and so it went on. Pompilia, left alone with her old husband, looked outside for life; and lo! Caponsacchi appeared – a priest, Apollos turned Apollo. He threw comfits to her at the theatre, at carnival time – no great harm – but he was, moreover, always hanging about the street where Guido’s palace was. Pompilia observed him from her window. People began to talk, the husband to open his eyes. Things went on, till one April morning Guido awoke to find his wife flown. He had been drugged, he said. Caponsacchi, the handsome young priest, had brought a carriage for her: they had gone by the Roman road eight hours since. Guido started in pursuit, coming up with the fugitives just as they were in sight of Rome. Caponsacchi met the husband unabashed: “I interposed to save your wife from death, yourself from shame.” Fingering his sword, he offered fight, or to stand on his defence at Rome. The police came up and secured the priest, and they went upstairs to arouse the wife. She overwhelmed her husband with invective, turning to her side even the very sbirri. “Take us to Rome,” both prisoners demanded. Love letters and verses were produced, and husband and wife fought out their case before the lawyers. The accused declared that the letters were not written by them. The court found much to blame, but little to punish. The priest was sentenced to three years’ exile at Civita Vecchia; the wife must go into a convent for a while. Guido was not satisfied: he claimed a divorce. Pompilia did the same. On account of her health a little liberty was allowed her, and she left the convent to reside with her pretended parents at their villa. Here she gave birth to a child. Guido was furious when he heard all this, and went to Rome to the villa with four confederates, pretending to be Caponsacchi. The door was opened, when he rushed in with his braves and killed them all; and so the two Comparini are lying in the church, and Pompilia is in the hospital dying of her wounds.