RENAISSANCE THEMES AND FIGURES

IN BROWNING'S POETRY

Approved:

Approved;

Approved;

Apnroved:

THESIS

RENAISSANCE THEMES AND FIGURES

IN BROWNING'S POETRY

THESIS

Presented to the Faculty of the Graduate Division of the

Texas Technological College in Partial Fulfillment

of the Requirements

For the Degree of

MASTER OF ARTS

By

Ruth Black, B. A.

Lubbock, Texas

August , 1937 ,

LIBRARY TEXAS TECHNOLOGICAL COLLEGE

LUBBOCK, TEXAS

A5U'l^'3l

TABLE OP CONTENTS

Page

P' Chapter I. The Renaissance 1

Discovery of Physical World Discovery of Man Literature Scholarship Inventions

Chapter I I . Bro¥min3:»s Studies in the Renaissance 10

Art Literature

Chapter III. Renaissance Fismres in Browning's Poetry 17

Art 18 Fra Lipro Lin^i Andrea de l Sairto Old Pictui'es in Florence

Music 26 ^ Toccata of Galuprd 's Abt VO'-ler

Scholarship 28 The Grammarian's Funeral Paracelsus

Politics 36 Luria Sordello

Miscellaneous 40 The Bishop Orders His Tomb Bishop Blontrram' 3 Apolog:7)r The Laborfitory My Last Duchess The Confessional The Heretic's Tragedy

The Ring and the Book 46

THE RENAISSANCE ^ -.

That Robert Browning should have been

interested in the Renaissance is natural when we

recall that his father was at heart a scholar, an

artist, a collector of books and pictures. The

six thousand volumes in his library included im­

portant works in Greek, Latin, Hebrew, French,

Spanish, and Italian. Many of these the young poet

read. Like his own Paracelsus, Browning desired

"to know," and this avid search, coupled with his

own keen zest for life--

"HOW good is man's life, the mere living"--

reveals him as by nature almost a Renaissance figure

himself. As a background for this study of Browning's

portrayal of Renaissance characters and themes, a

brief survey of the nature of the Renaissance may

not be amiss.

In the late years of the fourteenth century

there began in Europe the period of awakening which

is known as the Renaissance. It began so gradually

that at first it was a movem.ent hardly perceptible;

but with the fall of Constantinople in 1453 the last

vestige of the old world was swept away and Europe

wa3 plunged into a new age--an age of expansion, of

discovery, of enlarged literary and artistic activity.

The Renaissance was not merely a revival of

learning, the discovery of ancient manuscripts, or

the finding of new worlds. It was the new spirit of

freedom, of intellectual energy, of joy and exultation

which began to manifest itself in the peoples of

Europe, that was the essence of the new age. It was

this spirit which impelled men to make use of the

material which they found at hand; it was this new

intelligence which prompted the discovery of the

physical world and the conquest of the human mind

and its potentialities.

It was natural that the new movement should

begin in Italy and fitting that it should be built

upon the ruins of the greatest of empires. For, at

a time v/hen the other nations of Europe were still

in a crude state of advancement, Italy already had

one of the oldest and most cultured civilizations of

the world. She possessed a language, Dolitical free­

dom, and commercial prosperity, which were buried with

the fall of the Roman Empire only to com.e forth with

greater brilliance in the Renaissance.

Europe, in the fourteenth century, was ,1ust

emerging from the austerity and gloom of the kiddle

Ages when the Church had been supreme and m.an had

lived only in expectation of a glorious life to come.

Man lived so enveloped in religion that he did not

see the beauty of the world. And the priests of the

church spent their lives laboriously copying religious

manuscripts, leaving the treasures of ancient Greece

and Rome untouched. But with the dawning of the

Renaissance, man was inspired with ,a new exuberance,

a new delight in life. The philosophy of Aristotle

was laid aside and Plato became the god of the age.

To mention this new attitude toward life is to call

to mind the place where it manifested itself most

clearly. In no other city did all the forces of the

Renaissance combine so thoroughly as in Florence,

interestingly enough the city most intimately associated

with the Brownings. There the nev/ intelligence reached

its highest peak and learning was not confined to a

few of the scholars, but permeated the whole popula­

tion. In the Florentines, curiosity, the desire to

know, great artistic ability, and a love of beauty

were curiously blended with cupidity and a capacity

for amassing great v/ealth. On the one hand, their «

love of beauty was demonstrated in the monuments

and paintings with which they filled their city; on

the other hand, the moral decadence was shown in the

corrupt lives of the rulers and people and in their

cruelty and heartlessness as manifested in the art

of poisoning which is portrayed in Brovming's The

Laboratory. This was the time of the Medici, who.

although they were tyrannical rulers, were at the

same time the greatest of all patrons of the arts.

Life was gay, religion was almost forgotten, pleasure

was carried to excess. In both aspects of life, the

Intellectual and the social, Florence was the typical

Renaissance city.

Bacon said, "l have taken all knowledge

to be my province," and his statement expressed the

attitude of the age. Like Browning's Paracelsus,

Renaissance men were fired with the desire to know,

and this desire led them along many paths of endeavor.

It was their new interest in life that pushed them

on to the discovery of the world. Spain and Portugal

were in the largest measure responsible for the ex­

ploration of the ocean and the colonization of the nev/

world. It was the urge to know that made Columbus

sail out into an unknown sea in search of a new trade

route--a voyage which led to one of the great achieve­

ments of the Renaissance, the discovery of America.

For the same reason Diaz rounded the Cape in 1497,

and Vasco da Gama sought a new sea route to India.

The love of adventure sent Cortes to Mexico and Pizarro

to Peru; it was also responsible for the exploits of

the English Drake and Hav;kins. The exploration of the

mysteries of the universe provided another outlet for

the new energy. No longer v/ero accented the medieval

legends concerning the origin and function of the

world. Man pushed aside his dread of nature and desired

to know. Then it v/as that Copernicus explained the

solar system, and Galileo proved that the world is

mobile; in England, Francis Bacon became the expositor

of modern science. The nature and order of the universe

was in some measure understood, and the roots of scienti­

fic progress were planted. In these two phases—ex­

ploration and scientific discovery--one group of

Renaissance men satisfied their longing for the new

and untried.

With the discovery of the physical v/orld

came also the discovery of man or the development of

his finer nature. This phase of activity found ex­

pression in three channels—art, literature, and

scholarship. First we may consider the chanfre which

took place in the world of art. In whatever else the

other nations of Europe may have excelled, Italy was

supreme in painting and sculpture. Art, during the

Middle Ages, had become definitely associated with the

Church, as Brovming's Fra Lippo Lippi so conclusively

shows. Artists busied themselves only with pictures

of the saints and v/ere concerned merely with portray­

ing beauty of soul. There was no attenrt to give beauty

of form and structure to a v ork of art. But with the

coming of the Renaissance, the new spirit extended

also to the arts. Painters began to realize that a

symbolic meaning was not all a painting might portray.

u

They came to appreciate the beauty and perfection of

the physical form and to try to reproduce it in their

work. Thus, the early Renaissance artist combined

the religious idea of the Iniddle Ages with the new

conception of beauty and gave his Madonnas a beautiful

body as well as a saintly expression. This was the u . •

age of Raphael, of Michael Angelo, of da Vinci, and of

Velasquez and Murillo in Spain. This was the di%e also

of the great Giotto, the Dante of painting. As time

went on, painting gradually lost its religious slg-

nlficance and became entirely separated from the

Church. The natural, human, essentially dramatic

qualities in art were realized and given an expression

which has hardly been achieved since.

In the literary world, the first true light

of the Renaissance came with Dante's Divine Comiedy,

a work written in Italy's ovm language, and one v;hich

dared to express the spirit of the nev; age and the

individuality of the author. With Dante came a group

of names famous in Italian literary history. There

was Petrarch, a true representative of the age in

his passion for the antique and classical. Then,

Boccaccio reflected the new feeling in the joy and

lig^itness which pervaded his r.-rlting. Villani becane

famous for his historical 'ork, and Ariosto produced

"the most periect example of renaissance poetry in his

Orlando Furioso. But this brilliance in literary

achievement was not United to xtaly; it spread over

all Europe. It was, as in other fields, an age of

great figures. In Prance Rabelais was the beacon

light: Spain was in the midst of her Golden Age,

with such men in the front as Lope de Vega and Caldero'n.

The foremost figure was Cervantes, who in 1605 gave

to the world the first volume of Don Quijote, the

greatest novel of all time. The movement reached

England much later and, even then, the early period

was largely one of imitation and assimilation. Wyatt

and Surrey introduced the sonnet form from Italy, and

Sidney brought the terza rima. In drama, Seneca was

the m.odel for tragedy and Plautus and Terence for

comedy. Spenser's Faerie Queene contained all the

decorative richness, harmony, and imaginative splendor

of the Italian Renaissance. But the real exponent of

the En :lish Renaissance was Shakespeare and the Eliza­

bethan drama. The dramatists of the age achieved the

trappy combination of the classical and the nev/. Of

course, Shakespeare v/as the dom.inant figure. What

Ariosto was for Italy, Rabelais for France, Cervantes

for Spain, that and more was Shakespeare for England.

Scholarship, which had made little pro -ress

during the Middle Ages, flashed out a.c-ain during the

Renaissance, and its spirit is v/ell portrayed in

Browning's Gramjnarian's Funeral. The earliest be­

ginnings v/ere represented in the passionate desire

of men like Petrarch and Boccaccio for knowledge and

especially for a knowledge of the classics. Then

came the age of acquisition when libraries began to

be built and manuscripts collected. Such names as

Nicholas V and Pog'-io Bracciolini were famous as

builders of libraries. But Italy, with her glorious

Roman past, was not the only country to attain in­

tellectual prominence. The northern peoples also turned

to a study of the classics. German universities ranked

with those of Padua, Pisa, or Florence, and the line

of German scholars and educators was long. The scholar­

ship of the v/orld reached its zenith in the humanist,

Erasmus of Rotterdam.. It was he v/ho combined the

erudition of the north v/ith the harmony and n-race of

Italian composition. But Gernany's gre?.test contri­

bution to the Renaissance, and one which has affected

the entire v/orld, v/as the Reformation and the 'ork of

Martin Luther, the great reformer and purifier of

religion.

There remains one phase of Renaissance

achievement--the inventions of v/hich man made use

in his search for new freedom. Many of them, had been

knov/n for centuries, but Europe had never had need

of them. The com.pass, discovered in 1302, was first

made use of in the voyage of Columbus. Copernicus

and Galileo, in their experiments, used the tele­

scope, an Instrument v/hich had long been known to

the Arabians. About 1320 gun powder came to be -

used, an invention which revolutionized warfare. But

probably the Invention which affected Renaissance life

to the greatest extent was the printing press. For

with printing in common use, it was possible to pre­

serve the knowledge of the world and to put the best

thought into the possession of everyone.

It can easily be seen that the Renaissance «

included much more than the Revival of Learning.

Every phase of life underv/ent change, and the true

cause of change-was the liberation of the spirit from

the fetters which had bound it duriny- the I/Iiddle Ages.

As Symonds has said in his book, The Renaissrnce in

Italy, the Renaissance means "the spirit of r.iankind

recovering consciousness and the power of self-deter­

mination, recognizing the beauty of the outer v/orld,

and of Lhe body throu.gh art, liberating the reason in

science and the conscience in religion, restoring

culture to the intelligence and establishing the

principle of political freedom."

10

BROWNING'S STUDIES IN

THE RENAISSANCE

For Robert Brov/ning, by nature so sensitive

and artistic, Italy had a strong appeal. He spent

several of the best years of his life in the country

which was the home of the Renaissance, and its spirit

and tradition had a definite influence on his v/ork.

Indeed, so much of the old Italian spirit did he

absorb that he was, as we have already said, himself

almost a Renaissance figure. But his interest in

that age and the foundation for his v/ork in it be­

gan long before he saw Italy.

Prom his parents Browning inherited an

artistic temperament and a love of culture. His

father was at heart a scholar and a literary man.

Browning has said in one of his poems,

"My father was a scholar and knew Greek."

Mr. Browning was a voracious reader and spent his

leisure time reading and making notes. He was also

a book collector and had an excellent library where

Robert spent many hours reading Milton, Junius, and

f Developmf^nt, 1. 1.

11

Voltaire. His father very early taught him to read

Latin and later Greek. Browning once said that one

of his earliest recollections was that of sitting on

his father's knees in the library listening to the

story of Troy, effectively illustrated by the use of

the chairs and tables and even the cat.* The father

also had a keen appreciation for art and was himself

an artist of some ability. Brovming's mother, too,

was a woman of culture and refinement and possessed

talent in drawing and music. Thus the boy had from

his earliest years the sympathetic understanding and

skillful guidance of both his parents. From boyhood

his artistic inclination was encouraged and he de­

veloped an appreciation for great art v/hich was to

come out later in his art poems. Likewise, the father

developed the intellectual nature of his son, and he

became insatiably curious, desiring, like his own

Paracelsus, to know. In these two characteristics,

his artistic nature and his love of knov/ledge, he was

truly of the Renaissance.

It has been said that Browning had a soul

which was Greek, Roman, Jewish, and Oriental. It is

true that he was interested in every country and

Development, 11. 5-10.

12

every side of life. He loved Prance, Spain, and

Germany, but it was Italy that was his adopted

homeland. It was his stay in Italy and the interests

he developed there that v/ere responsible for most

of the Renaissance spirit in his works. In 1838 he

made his first visit to Italy and was inspired with

such a love for the country that it seemed to him

afterward as if he belonged to it. In 1844 he made

a second visit, remaining the greater part of the

time in Naples, Rome, and possibly Florence. It

was at this tim.e that he became fascinated by

Italian history, art, and literature. On the third

visit Browning was accompanied by Elizabeth Barrett

Browning who immediately began to share his love

for Italy. They made their home first in Pisa,

and Mrs. Browning wrote to Miss Mitford,

"For Pisa, we both like it extremely. The city is full of beauty and repose, and the purple mountains seem to beckon us on deeper into the vine land."^

In 1847 the Brownings went to Florence and were

so charmed with the place that they decided to

Orr, Life and Letters of Browning, p. 217.

13

remain there. In Florence Browning really began

his studies in the Renaissance. During the fifteen

years that they lived there and in other cities of

Italy, they became so closely associated with the

country that to trace their steps would be to describe

half of Browning's work, to say nothing of that of

his wife.

While he was living in Florence, Browning's

interest in art revived and he began enthusiastically

to study art histories and criticisms, especially

Vasarl's Lives of the Painters. In Florence he was

able to live in the very atmosphere of the Renaissance

artists. There were the same narrow streets, the

same little shops v/here the masters had v/orked. He

lived almost in the shadow of "the startling bell-

tower Giotto raised,"'^and near-by were the v/orkshops

of Andrea del Sarto and Fra Lippo Lippi. He went to

see the churches and the palaces; he visited the

Duomo and stood beside the tomb of Fichael Angelo

in Santa Croce. In the museums he studied day after

day the works of Raphael, da Vinci, and the others.

He even collected rare old pictures for their home

in Casa Guidi. With his interest in painting came

also a less sustained attraction for architecture

and sculpture. He became familiar v:ith the Renaissance

V'Old Pictures in Florence, 1. 15.

14

style of building and decoration; and along v/lth

his study of sculpture he did some modeling of his

own. In the great art poems. Old Pictures in Florence,

Fra Lippo Lippi, Andrea del Sarto, Pictor I^notus,

and The Guardian Angel, we can see the fruit of this

intense study of Renaissance art.

In connection with art we may consider also

Browning's interest in music. A musician himself,

he was familiar with the great musical works. But

Italian music appealed especially to him and there

are many references to it in his poems. The tv/o

great music poems which reflect his love and apprecia­

tion of the art are Abt Vogler and A Toccata of

Galuppi's.

In Italy Brovming became acquainted v/ith

the novelist Stendhal and from him imbibed a curiosity

concerning Italian history. Sordello shov/s his interest

in Italian Renaissance history, and it is said that

he read thirty books on the early history of Italy in

order to be able to give a correct historical back­

ground for the poem. Luria deals with the political

and military side of Renaissance life in Florence

and caused Brov/ning to delve deep into Florentine

history. He was especially interested in tracing the

family history of famous Italian personages, finding

out the legends v;hich hu^g about them, and trying to

untangle the mysteries surrounding their lives. Then

he liked to weave all his material into a poem.

Such is The Statue and the Bust, founded on a legend

concerning Duke Ferdinand of Florence. It was his

curiosity in these matters which led him in the di­

rection of the Franceschini case which furnished the

plot for The Ring and the Book.

The literature of the Renaissance attracted

Browning in the same manner as did painting. He had

always been interested in the classics, the revival

of which v/as so important a part of the Renaissance,

and he did not hesitate to insert quotations from

Latin and Greek in his poems. Of Renaissance writers,

Dante was his favorite. Mrs. Brov/ning frequently

tells of their discussions of Dante. It was the

Sordello of the Divine Comedy that probabl;/ gave

Brovming the idea for his own Sordello. Both Petrarch

and Boccaccio are mentioned several times, as are

also Sacchetti and I.lachiavelli. His deep reading in

the literature of the age "enabled hir, to give such

graphic pictures or lire during the Renaissance as

ne does, ror insti;nee, in The Laboratory. He must

have found it very easy to v/rite there in Italy

surrounded by the atmosphere of those earlier v;:"*tGr3,

for in speaking of the lack of English books and

newspapers in Italy, he said, "One gets nothing of

that kind here, but the stuff out of v/hich books

16

grow, — it lies about one's feet indeed.""*

The Renaissance was Browning's chosen field

and he prepared himself well for his work there. To

him Italy represented the Renaissance, and he has

given us a series of brilliant figures which are

unmistakably Italian. As Paul de Reul says,"Browning

-was par excellence the poet and painter of Italy. "**

And nothing could be more fitting than that on his

tomb should be placed the v/ords from his own poem,

"Open my heart and you will see Graven inside of it 'Italy'."^

^Orr, Life and Letters of Browning, Vol. 1, p. 323. ^Paul de Reul, L'Art e't"Ta Pensee de Browninc-, p. 145 ^De Gustlbus, 11. 43-44.

17

RENAISSANCE FIGURES IN

BROWNING'S POETRY

It has been said that only by art in all

its variety can the various phases of life be de­

picted as they are. Others have portrayed the

Renaissance in history, in music, in art, but it

required the genius v/hich v/as Robert Brov/ning's to

make it live in poetry. Someone has said that v/hen

Brov/ning v/rote on art he gave us *'painting refined

into song." His sensitive soul and keen sense for

the dramatic drew him to a study of the age. During

the fifteen years he lived in Italy, he identified

himself completely with the country and assimilated,

with a sympathy unique in depth, its past and present.

He found the heart of the Renaissance, recognized its

intellect, its art, music, literature and learning,

and felt the fullness of its- life. Then vdth the

art which was his ovm, he reflected that life in his

poetry. But he depicted it not as a historian would

have done, prosaically, for fact's sake, but in the

manner of the poet, revealing it in its conflict and

growth. With his instinct for turning to the world of

men and women, he cam.e to knov/ the mip-hty fi--ures of

18

the Renaissance, and they became a part of his greatest

poetry. In the long gallery of Renaissance portraits

which are the work of Robert Browning, are re-created

with vivid imagination and singular pov/er many of

those great personages v/ho would otherwise remain

for us mere shadov/s.

If we may judge by the frequency with which

he treated the subject, it v/as the art of the Renais­

sance which appealed most strong"ly to Browning. In­

deed, the intensive study v/hich he made of it could

hardly fall to be reflected markedly in his v/ork.

It is, then, to the great draTratic m.onologue, Fra

Lippo Lippi, that v/e turn first in a consideration of

Renaissance figures. Very probably it was from.

Vasarl's Lives of the Painters that Browning^first

read the romantic story of Fra Lippo Lipoi and con-

ceived the idea of makine the Carmelite monk the

principal character of his poem. Fra Lip^o v/as not

only a great painter of the age, but he represented

also the typical churchman of the time and the more

or less unholiness of those v/ho professec holy orders.

Fra Lipno Lippi was completely of the Renaissance.

In order to understand the signiricance of such a

statement, v/e may turn to another poem, Pictor Icrnotus,

for a picture of the m.onastic life of the age to

which Fra Lippo belonired. The old painter in the poem

19

was the typical monastic painter of the Renaissance

period. His art was beautiful, but cold; it had not

the flash of life which Fra Lippo was to bring to his

pictures. The old monk was a servant to the beliefs

and ideals of the church which shaped both personality

and art. He painted "under the eye of God." Thinking

that physical beauty detracted from the spiritual, he

and his brother monks painted their "Madonnas with

no limbs beneath their robes." Their art was es­

sentially religious at a time when religion and art

were beginning to be separated. So they were really

unknown painters, working in the seclusion of the

monastery, while Fra Lippo Lippi and the other painters

of the new age vjere putting into their pictures the

spirit and energy which they felt. Brought into the

religious order as a child, Fra Lippo early shov/ed

a talent for drawing, and the fathers, believing that

he mig^t som e time decorate th ir church, allowed him

to continue in his v/ork. But Lippo Lippi had new

conceptions of art and a touch of realism in his nature

which v'ould not let himx follov/ the instructions of

the monks under v/hom he v.'orked. And they, seeing the

beautiful, life-like bodies v.hich he gave his saints,

were alarmed and. told him to paint no more of the body

than shov/ed soul, because, they said,

"Your business is to paint the souls of men."'

Fra Lippo Lippi, 1. 183.

20

But Fra Lippo was unconvinced. As the writers and

thinkers of the Renaissance had discarded Aristotle

for Plato, so Lippo Lippi, with the other painters,

felt the irresistible tendency to expand beyond the

bounds set by the church and the rules of art, and

find beauty wherever he turned. To him, art was not

art without beauty; in the words of Keats, he believed

that "Beauty is truth, truth, beauty." But he went

even deeper, and there in the palace of the Medici,

forced to paint saints according to the medieval

conception, he became convinced that

"All is beauty: And knowing this, is love, and love

is duty."^

With the painters like Fra Lippo, who broke av/ay

from the fetters of the I.iiddle Ages and imbibed the

new freedom and love of life, art became a combination

of the new and the old. They tried to master the

Greek perfection of form, and combined v/ith it the

spark of life which was of the Renaissance. But

beauty v/as the essential.

"If you get simple beauty and naught else. You get about the best thing God invents."-^

Some critic has said that the wayward child of genius

2-The Guardian-Angel, 11. 33-35. 3Fra Lippo Lippi, 11. 217-218.

21

is a fascinating object for study always. Wayward

as he was, Fra Lippo was not a dissolute friar; he

was simply breaking away from the narrow limits of

the Middle Ages and asserting his individuality, a

trait which was characteristic of the Renaissance. He

was a human being and a personality--not a slave of

out-worn principles. His soul v/as vibrating with the

new energy and freedom which came with the awakening.

He found life interesting, and his own was "a joyous

apology for realism and the physical life." Unlike

the monk of the Middle Ages who wrapped his cowl about

his face and so did not see the beauty and grandeur

on either side of him, Fra Lippo was aware of

"the beauty and the wonder, and the power. The shapes of things, their colours,

lights and shades. Changes, surprises," «

and knew that God made them all. There was, indeed,

a Bohemian streak in his nature that made the bright

lights, the sound of music and dancing, and the sight

of pretty faces irresistible. It v/as this zest for

life that im.pelled him, unable to endure the restraint

of being shut up in the palace of Cosimo de Medici,

to let himself out of his v/indow for a frolic in the

street below.

'^Reul, L'Art et la Pense'e de Browning, p. 156. - Fra Lippo Lippi, 11. 283-285.

22

"Here's spring come, and the nights one makes up bands

To roam the town and sing out carnival."

This, then, was the man who found life good, who

recognized the "dear fleshly perfection of the

human shape," who made angels out of street urchins

and portraits of his peasant loves for his virgins

and saints; this was the great figure of the Renais­

sance who could say.

"This v/orld's no blot for us. Nor blank; it means intensely, and means

good."''

In Vasftri's Lives of the Painters Browning

also read the life of Andrea del Sarto, and on the

bare historical facts v/hich he found recorded there,

he framed his other sreat art poem. Touched by the

genius of Browning, Andrea, too, became a great

Renaissance figure. There is a no more pathetic picture

in all literature than this one of a man v/ho might "

have dwelt on the mountain tops but who allowed the

plains to suffice. Andrea del Sarto v/as an exam.ple

of the skillful artist v/ithout a soul. He was called

the "faultless painter," and his fellow artists envied

his sure hand and perfect technique. Andrea himself

< Fra Lippo Linpi, 11. 45-50. ''Ibid., 11. 313-314.

23

realized his ability, but he also knew his weakness

"All is silver-gray Placid and perfect with my art: the

worse I"^

The subject of artistic perfection was for Browning

a source of prejudice. Perfection left nothing to

be striven for.

"Ah, but a man's reach should exceed his grasp.

Or what's a heaven for?"*?

Andrea del Sarto achieved almost perfect technique;

he could correct lines and strokes of Raphael and

Michael Angelo.

"You don't know how the others strive To paint a little thing like that you

smeared Carelessly passing v/ith your robes afloat." to

The tragedy was that he could not give his pictures

a-soul. Speaking of great artists like Raphael, he

said.

"But themselves, I know Reach many a time a heaven that's

shut to me.""

Browning makes it clear that Andrea failed not because

^Andrea del Sarto, 11. 98-99. ''ibid., TTT 97-98. '^Ibid., 11. 72-74. "Ibid., 11. 82-83.

24

of the vain, unfaithful woman who was his wife. The

fault lay within himself, for he v/as a man wholly

'without character. Like the woman in The Laboratory,

he was a part of the corrupt, lustful life which

characterized the Renaissance. He allowed his parents

to starve in poverty, he stole money from his patron,

he went to any extreme to gain the love of his wife.

Like the gay Venetians which the musician sees as he

plays a toccata of Galuppi's, Andrea del Sart.o had no

soul, and so was not able to give one to his pictures.

Old Pictures in Florence is a very mine of

Renaissance nam.es and figures. Its theme is a plea

for a greater appreciation of the early painters who

were pioneers in the art which was perfected by the

Italian masters. Standing on a height overlooking

Florence on a March morning, an art-lover, in a

soliloquy, recalls the early Renaissance painters and

their work. There is Giotto's tower stretching above

the beauty of Florence, there is the v/ork of Raphael

and Michael Angelo, of Nicolo and Cimabue. All of

these are forgotten by the critics who "scarcely

dream that the Old and New are fellov/s." But each

impulse, each school of painting is a part of the

one great plan and each is necessary to the other.

For, as the poet reflects.

25

"Da Vincis derive in good time from Dellos," IX.

Again, Browning touches the theme of the perfection

of art. Greek art, he says, attained perfection and . 1 . ..

declined. . 1 - • • . - .

"What's come to perfection perishes. Things learned on earth we shall practice

in heaven." *^

But to copy the perfection of form of Greek art

was not enough for those painters of the Renaissance.

They awoke to the beauty and perfection of the soul

and combined it v/ith the Greek perfection of body.

Then they worked for eternity, as the Greeks for

time.

"What if we so small Be greater and grander the v/hile than they?

For time, theirs--ours, for eternity."'*^

Thus, throughout these poem.s there is mani­

fested Browning's universal enthusiasm for all

varieties of art. In dramatic pieces like Fra Lippo

Lippi and Andrea del Sarto, and in poems like Pictor

Ignotus and Old Pictures in Florence, we are let into

the very heart of the time which was the Golden An-e

of creative painting.

* 01d Pictures in Florence, 1. 64. *5Tbid., 11. 130-131. '' Ibid., 11. 115-120.

26

Not less sympathetic is Browning's treat­

ment of the music of the Renaissance. There are not,

however, so many historical figures as in the art

poems; this group deals rather with the attitudes

and philosophy of the age.

"There is no truer truth obtainable By Man than comes of music."'-^

A Toccata of Galuppi's furnishes a fine

example of imaginative power on the part of the

person playing the toccata. Under the fin---ers of

the artist there rises a phantom picture of Renais­

sance Venice and the Venetian composer, Baldassare

Galuppi. The poem deals v/ith two asr;ects of Renais­

sance life--the superficial, pleasure-loving side,

and the intellectual side. The poet imagines Galuppi

himself performing before a gay, frivolous audience

v/hich pauses v/hile the master plays and then leaves

him for their pleasure. In the flowing movements and

solemn chords the musician sees the lives of the

Venetians, spent in gaiety until death took them one

by one,

"Some with lives that came to nothing, some v/ith deeds as v/ell undone."'^

Here is a nicture of the sa ie heartless life as that

^^Charles Avison, 11. 138-139. ' A Toccata of Galuppi's, 1. 29.

27

shown in The Laboratory--a life without a soul.

"The soul, doubtless, is immortal--where a soul can be discerned."''^

The other class represented in the poem is the one

also pictured in The Gramjnarian's Funeral--a class

which despised the frivolous life and devoted all

its time to study. ' '

"You knov/ physics, something of geology. Mathematics are your pastime."'^

But the poet says that even with their research and

consecration to learning, these men also miss the

true end of life.

In his portrayal of Georp-e Joseph Vogler,

the organist and composer. Browning presents a

philosophy which has come to be identified with the

Renaissance. As v/e have said before, the philosophy

of Plato, with its conception of beauty and reality,

was the accepted theory of the age. Plato said,

"True reality is spirit, not matter," and it is this

philosophy v\/hich is the theme of Abt Vogler. Im­

provising on his instrument, the musician builds a

palace of sounds, and like the speaker in the Ode

'7A Toccata of Galuppi 's, 1. 36. ' i"lbld., 11. "7:^3^7

28

to Francisco Salinas, he is carried away by the music.

As its beauty overpowers him, he wishes it might be i

permanent, for it has been real to him and is too

lovely to perish. Then he realizes, with Plato, that

true reality is spirit, and concludes:

"All v/e have v/illed or hoped or dreamed of good shall exist.

Not its semblance, but itself."'*'

The Renaissance, we have said, brou.ght with

it the liberation of the intellect from the bonds

which had held it during the Middle Ages, and scholar­

ship began to reveal the v/ealth and potentialities of

the human mind. No one Renaissance characteristic

stands out more clearly than that of learning. Erudition

combined most curiously with the cruelty/, heartless­

ness, and vice of the age, and attained heights that

even now seem v/onderful. Brov/ning portrays this re­

vival of learning frequently in his poetry.

The traditions and ideals of the Renaissance

disciples of learning are graphically displayed in

The Grammarian's Funeral. Like so many other scholars

of the time, the old grammarian or philologist de­

voted his entire life to study. Obscure and name­

less, denying himself all the pleasures of life, he

i'iAbt Vogler, 1. 72.

29

spent his youth arduously seeking knov/ledge.

"This man decided not to live but know."^«

Like the monastic painters, shunning criticism and

fame, he too shut himself av/ay from the v/orld. He

went into the newly-revived classics and grew old

trying to settle one minute phase of Greek grammar.

Even the ravages of disease and old age could not

force him away from his work. He expanded the mind

and let the body go uncared for. And v/hen it seemed

to others that he should begin to enjoy life, he

thought thst his v/ork had just begun, so eager v/as

he to gain the last crumb of knov-ledge.

"This in him was the peculiar grace ^ That before living he'd learn how to live."^

He did not regret the passing of life, for he "threw

himself on God," and looked toward a future life

v/here his work might be continued.

"V/hat's time? Leave nov/ for do^s and apes! Man has forever. " =

The appreciation and reverence "'hich those of the

Renaissance felt for scholarship is revealed in the

tencierness v/ith v/hich the students bore the bod" of

their old master to its tomb when de^th had finally

^The Gra:- marian's Funeral, 1. 140. ^'Ibld., 11. 76-7S. ^ ^ - - ^ ' - 2 M . 84-85.

30

taken him. Feeling that he was above the common,

unlearned people, they carried him to the mountain

top. What a vivid picture we get of the solem.n

procession winding up the steep mountain-sides to the

highest peak, with the body of the master in the

midst, "famous, calm and dead." There, in recog­

nition of his attainment, they buried him, .

"Where meteors shoot, clouds form. Lightnings are loosened.

Stars come and go."^^

But Browning's truly great portrait of the

Renaissance scholar is his Paracelsus, v/ho, like

Goethe's Faust, aspires to universal knowledge. As

he did in so many of his poems, the poet has taken

an actual historical figure as the principal character

of his poem. According to a note v/hich Browning

wrote to be appended to the poem, Paracelsus v/as born >

in 1493, the son of a physician of Einsiedeln near

Zurich. As a youth, he studied alchemy, surgery,

and medicine under the best teachers of the day.

Then he began a practice denounced b.,, all the uni­

versities— that of wandering from country to country

gaining knowledge from the common people. V/ith all

his learning-, therefore, he had a great love for

25 The Grammarian's Funeral, 11. 142-144.

31

humanity. He justified his avid search for knowledge

in his work, De Pundamento Sapientiae: "He who

foolishly believes is foolish; without knowledge there 1. -t. •' • •

can be no faith. We can learn to knov/ God only by

becoming wise." Through numerous experiments and

discoveries, Paracelsus became famous throughout

Europe, and even today is recognized as the father of

modern chemistry.

In his poem Browning follows the progress

of the life of Paracelsus very closely. In fact, he

says in his comment on the poem: "The reader m-ay

slip the foregoing scenes between the leaves of any

memoir of Paracelsus he pleases, by way of commentary."

In the first scene, called Paracelsus Aspires, v/e

see the young Paracelsus as a student talking with

his friends, Festus and L.ichal. It is the evening

of his departure to seek knowledge--not in the uni­

versities but in the v/orld of men. He has realized

that the darkness of the Liddle Ages is yielding to

the light of the Revival of Learning, and feeling the

new vigor and the thirst for knowledge, he has joined

the throng of seekers.

"Believe that ere I joined them, ere I knew

The purpose of the pageant, or the place Consigned me in its ranks--v; \ile, just

awake, wonder was freshest and delight most

pure--

32

And from the tumult in my breast, this only

Could I collect, that I must thenceforth die

Or elevate myself far, far above The gorgeous spectacle." '

Fired with the same urge as the explorers who sailed

the unknown seas, he is impelled to push on, shunning

"the dull stagnation of a soul, content." Like the

old grammarian, mind becomes supreme over body, and

learning becomes his sole pursuit.

"Are there not, Festus, are there not, dear Michal,

Two points in the adventure of the diver. One—when, a bego-ar, he crepares to plunge. One--when, a prince, he rises v/ith his

pearl? Festus, I plungel"^"^

The second scene, called Paracelsus Attains, shows

the scholar in the house of a Greek conjurer in

Constantinople. He has progressed a great v/ay to­

ward his goal and is now, as he says, content to come

to a pause v/ith knov/ledge, and scan the heishts already

reached. He can go no deeper; he realizes that he

has made one idea the whole purpose of his life, and

so has failed. Like Faust, he has neglected to

notice the beauty of the universe and has denied him­

self the pleasure of companionship. In his dejection.

^^Paracelsus, Book I, 11. 462-472. ^^Ibid., Book 1, 11. 842-846.

33

he hears a voice from within—the sad and mysterious

chant of the spirit of the departed poet Aprile.

"Lost, lost! yet come. With our wan troop make thy home. Come, come I for we Will not breathe, so much as breathe Reproach to thee. Knowing what thou sink'st beneath. Sank we in those old years Who bid thee, come! thou last Who, living yet, hast life o'erpast.** ^

Aprile has aspired to love beauty only, as Paracelsus

has aspired to love knowledge. They are direct

antitheses--Aprile has loved vithout knov/ing, while

Paracelsus has wished to know without loving.

"I too, have sought to knov/ as thou to love

Excluding love as thou refusedst knov/ledge. "-^

Paracelsus has tried to understand the universe

through science; Aprile has dreamed of a union of

all the arts. And Paracelsus, the man who had said

"Know, not for knowin^T's sake. But to becom.e a star to men forever; Know, for the --ain it gets, the praise

it brings. The v/onder it inspires, the love it

breeds,"^^

^^Paracelsus, Bk. II, 11. 297-305. ^'Ibid., Bk. II, 11. 624-625. ' Ibld., Bk. I, 11. 526-529.

34

demands that Aprile do obeisance to him as a scholar.

But Aprile refuses to recognize the superiority of

one who has excluded from his life all the beauty

and loveliness of the world. As Aprile dies. Para-

celsus realizes the error which both have made, and,

seeing his mistake, feels that he has reached his

goal.

"I have attained, and now I may depart." *

The next scene shows Paracelsus acclaimed by the

v/orld, famous, v/ithout a rival in his field of

science. Boastfully he has burned all the books of

his predecessors and regards himself as supreme in

knowledge. But, in seeking an outlet for his pent-

up feelings, he has allowed all the petty vices and

sensual delights to seize upon his soul. In this,

too, he is of the Renaissance. But he confesses to

Festus that he is not happy.

"I have not been successful, and yet am

Most miserable."

Once more Paracelsus aspires--this time with a dif­

ferent method. He has been exposed as a quack, and

^^Paracelsus, Bk. II, 1. 661. *^Ibid., Bk. Ill, 11. 256-257

35

all his followers have turned against him. So he

has resolved to start out on his travels again--but

not as the serious, sober student of his youth. He

has become degraded with base pleasures and has lost

his nobler aims.

"It shall not balk me Of the meanest earthliest sensualest delight That may be snatched; for every joy

is gain. And gain is gain, hov/ever small.""''

And so, embracing all the pleasures of life and

drowning his sorrows in the v/ine-cup, Paracelsus

starts out again. When next v/e see him he lies

dying in a hospital in Salzburg. And dying, he

attains, understanding finally the true purpose in

life.

"Love's undoing Taucrht me the worth of love in man's

estate."-''

Nov/ that he recognizes his error, he sees the way

and dies, confident that

"If I stoop Into a dark tremulous sea of cloud. It is but for a tim.e; I press

God' s lamp Close to my breast; its splendour.

J'Paracelsus, Bk. Iv, 11. 243-246 i^Ibid., Bk. V, 11. 854-855.

36

soon or later Will pierce the gloom; I shall emerge

one day. ""2

This is Browning's Paracelsus, a true Renaissance

figure in his regard and devotion for learning, in

his embracing of the Platonic doctrine of beauty,

in the debauchery of his life in base pleasures;

all these make him stand out as Browninr/'s greatest

Renaissance figure. Scholarship is, as Mr. Burton

says, "one of the most brilliant facets flashed down

to us from that many-colored stone called the

Renal ssance . " *

As Paracelsus pictures the scholarship

of the Renaissance, so Luria and Sordello reveal to

us the political life of the time. Both poems pre­

suppose a vast amount of information on the part of

the reader; it was in preparation for Sordello that

Browning himself read thirty books on Italian history.

Both poems deal v/ith the stru cries v. hich took place

in Northern Italy during the thirteenth century

betv/een the two factions, the Guelfs and the Ghibellines

In the poem Luria v/e see a great battle about to take

place—a battle v/hich will decide the issue of the

war between the Florentine and the Pisan republics.

^^paracelsus, Bk. V, 11. 899-903. ' ' Burton, Litrrpry Likings, Ch. V.

o /

Luria has been called Brov/ning's Othello. He is a

great general, devoted to the v/elfare of Florence.

But it is with most despicable motives that the

people of Florence have chosen him to lead them in

the war. Unwilling- to reward a victorious gen^^ral,

they choose Luria, a Moor. Secretly they try him

for treason and set spies to watch his every move.

Then, by the time he has won the battle they will

have evidence sufficient to condemn him to death.

The character of the great Luria stands out vividly

against the corruption and vileness of the political

life of the time. On the evening before the battle,

a letter is brought to him disclosing the plot of

the Floi'entines against him, but he refuses to read

it. After a great victory for Florence, Luria calls

for the messenger Braccio and learns of the plot.

Greatly angered, he reflects that there is still time

to ruin his enemies, the Florentines, before they

put him to death. To heigiiten the drama of the

situation, there enters the Pisan general v/hom he

has defeated and invites Luria to lead the Pi sans

against Florence. However greatly tempted Luria is

to revenge himself on Florence, he knows that the

act could not console him, and finally comes to the

conclusion that there is only one v/ay of escape.

38

He takes a phial from his breast, saying.

"This is all I brought from my own land

To help me."^^

Then he drinks the poison and dies.

"Florence Is saved: I drink this, and ere

night,--diel"3'^

Browning's interest in the troubadour and

Proven9al poet, Sordello, probably came from his

reading of Dante's Divine Comedy. The scene is in

Verona with Sordello a page at the court of Goito.

Following the example of his heroes of literature

and song, he falls in love v/ith Palma, a daughter

of the ruler of the court. After he has left the

court, he meets her at the Court of Love. He defeats

a rival, Eglamor, in singing and wins the prize, thus

becoming chief of the troubadors. Then he is called

to Mantua to sing, but his v;ork is very displeasing

to him. He falls lower and lov;er, until in complete

degradation, he goes back to Goito, v/here he regains

some of his happiness in living close to nature. At

this time he hears that Palma is to marry Richard,

- • "Luria, 11. 330-37-1. ' '='Ibid., 11. 338-339.

39

a nobleman, and that he is to compose a hymn for the

occasion. When he meets Palma, she confesses to

him that she is marrying Richard to reconcile the

Guelf and Ghibelllne factions. She confesses also

that she has loved Sordello since she saw him at the

court. They arrange to flee the next day. When

they arrive at Ferrara and see the ruin war has caused

there, Sordello becomes fired v/ith a desire to help

the people in their misery. But his enthusiasm cools

when he meet Taurello, a Ghibelllne, who really does

the things Sordello merely talks of doing. There is

created a very dramatic situation v/hen it is dis­

covered that Sordello is the lost son of Taurello,

and that father and son are members of opposing factions

Taurello offers to make Sordello chief of the Ghi­

bellines, and Sordello, seeing- what is to be rained,

is tenipted to accept. He wonders what, after all, is

the difference between Guelf and Ghibelllne. By

accepting the offer of his father he will possess

the Emperor's badge, and v/ill have Palma as his bride.

Like Luria, Sordello found but one escape. As Palma

and Taurello enter, they see Sordello dead with the

badge under his foot. As he died, he, like Paracelsus,

attained, and in seening defeat achieved success.

Thus, in the story of Luria and in the picture of the

development of the soul of the poet Sordello, we have

40

the Renaissance in all its cruelty and its beauty,

its brutality and its love.

There remain several poems which do not

fall directly under the catagories already discussed,

but v/hich, nevertheless, deal with the art and learn­

ing of the Renaissance. First, there are the poems

dealing with the church, a subject which we discussed

in some measure in considering Fra Lippo Lippi. As

we have said, Fra Lippo was not the most v/orldly of

the churchmen of the time. The church of the Renais­

sance v/as not the holy institution of the Middle Ages;

in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries religion and

morality came to be separated. Kot all of those who

took holy orders were religious men, nor did they

adhere to the doctrines v/hich they professed. Church

offices were bought and sold; churchmen were interested

in worldly gain, and priests enjoyed all the base

pleasures of the laity. The Catholic Church too v/as

undergoing its Renaissance; so it was inevitable that

conditions should be thus. There were, of course,

some devout and holy men like Brother Lawrence in

Soliloquy of the Spanish Cloister, but there was also

a great number like the other friar of the poem, who

observed all the formality and outward show, even to

crossing his knife and fork, but to v/hom religion

meant nothing. It is a character of the latter type

that we find in the poem. The Bishop Orders His Tomb

41

at St . Praxed's Church. Here we see the Renaissance

love of art, learning, and luxury, and all its vice

and licentiousness displayed in an old Roman bishop

who lies dying. Unlike the churchmen of the Middle

Ages, he is not preparing his soul for death. Instead,

he is giving directions to those about him as to his

burial and the tomb which is to be erected for him.

Art in this poem is illustrated from a new angle.

The worldly, corrupt old bishop would have a great

mausole\im erected to his memory, but he has a selfish

motive in having so fine a tomb, lilnvy and jealousy

have prompted his desire. His rival, Gandolf, has

cheated him out of the most imposing place for a

tomb, and lies there, the dying man thinks, sneering ^

at him. But the bishop hopes to make up for the loss

by having a finer tomb; he has spent his life in se­

curing a great lump of Ianis lazuli, for, true Renais­

sance figure that he is, only,the best can satisfy ,

him. The bishop has some of the scholarly spirit

of the age, too, for he will have none but the most

classical Latin inscribed on his tomb.

"Choice Latin, picked phrase, Tully's every v/ord.

No gaudy v/are like Gandolf's second line--Tully, my masters? Ulpian serves his need!"

" The Bishop Orders His Tomb, 11. 77-79.

i i m i i r f l i i i i i W i i i i i i i i III n^^*"—--^'-^-^-a^*^'^^^^ '• • rfcai»n,r r irrnrfj-^ -

42

And still in all his pleading, he knows that his

equally worldly sons will take his riches for them­

selves and never give a thought to his last requests.

The old bishop is not particularly anxious to leave

this life, 'for he has found it no vale of tears, but

very satisfactory. And even as he is dying he thinks

of its pleasures. He remembers the tall, pale mother

of his sons, with "her talking eyes;" he remembers,

too, genuine hater that he is, hov/ jealous was old

Gandolf.

If 3 ^

"As still he envied me, so fair she was!"

This is the poem of which Ruskin said, "I know no

other piece of modern Ena:lish--prose or poetry in

which there is so much told, as in these lines, of

the Renaissance spirit--its worldliness, inconsistency,

pride, hypocrisy, ignorance of itself, love of art.

Of luxury, and of good Latin."

We see the same kind of clergyman in Bishop

Blougram. He has also thrust aside his priestly robes

and found enjoym&nt in life. He admits- that he is

worldly, but he has been successful in what he has

sought, and he sees no reason why he should make any

apology for a life v/hich he has found nleasant and

^ The Bishop Orders His Tomb, 1. 125.

'Ru. Vin, Modern Painters, V, Ch. 20.

43

attractive.

"I'm at ease now, friend; worldly in this world,

I take and like its way of life."^*

Like the bishop of the other poem, he believes that

this life was meant to be enjoyed.

"Why lose this life i' the meantime, since its use

May be to make the next life more intense."^'

This sam.e theme of jealousy and corruption,

v/hich permeated the common people as well as the

clergy, is again touched u^on in The Laboratory.

A woman in a frenzy of distorted love is watching a

chemist prepare a poison with which she intends to

dispose of her rival. This is a fine Renaissance

touch, for poisoning was an art of that age. The

Italians had a bad reputation for poisoning and

assassination, a fact brou.ht out in the memoirs of

Benvenuto Cellini. Great schools of poisoners flourish­

ed during the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries,

and Renaissance men and v/omen made use of this means

to rid themselves of their enemies. And so we-have

this woman, seeking an outlet for her rrenzy of

»'>Bishop Blougram's Apology, 11. 797-798. ••'Ibid., 11. 778-779.

44

jealousy, saying to the chemist,

" iVhich is the poison to poison her, prithee?"*"^

There is not a vestige of the Middle Ages in her

nature. Cold, untouched, she watches him grind,

moisten, and pound, giving no thought to the con­

sequences, interested solely in the pleasure of see­

ing her enemy conquered. Only the present and its

pleasures concern her, for the next moment she dances

at the king's.

There is another Renaissance character of

much the same type in My Last Duchess. Here we have

a cultured but thoroughly heartless duke shov/ing his

picture gallery to an envoy come from the family of

his next duchess. Standing before a portrait of the

woman v/ho was his last duchess, he tells his visitor

the story of her life. Jealous by nature and vainly

proud of a nine-hundred-years' old name, he crushed

entirely her spirit by demanding that her every move

be for him. He says she was too easily impressed and

too free v/ith her favors. And because she smiled at

others, he gave commands and "all smiles stopped

together." In a fev/ words he reveals all the coldness

^*The Laboratory, 1. 4.

45

and artificiality of his nature. But whatever else

he may be, the Duke is, true to the Renaissance

tradition, a true lover of art. He values the portrait

of the Duchess, not because she was his wife, but

because the painting v/as done by Fra Pandolf. He

appreciates good art and takes great pride in dis­

playing his treasures.

"Notice'Neptune, though. Taming a sea-horse, thought a rarity. Which Claus of Innsbruck cast in bronze

for meT"*^

Heartless and unfeelinr as she may have

been, the really cruel nation of the Renaissance was

not Italy, but Spain. In two poems Brov/ning has

graphically pictured the horrors of the Spanish In­

quisition which was so important a part of the Renais­

sance. A girl has confessed to a priest som.e sinful

conduct with her lover, and, as penance, has been

told to secure information from him concerning some­

thing of v/hich he is suspected. This she does, and

when she again sees her lover, he is hanging in the

public square, betrayed by the v/icked priest. Putting

herself, then, at the mercy of the Inquisition, she

denounces the church in wild words:

^'My Last Duchess, 11. 56-58.

46

"You think Priests just and holv men! Before they put me in this den I was a human creature too."''

The atrocity and cruelty of the Inquisition is

further illustrated in The Heretic's Tratr dy. V.'e

see in this poem a poor wretch bein- burned alive

while the mob jeers at his agony.

"Sling him fast like a hog to search. Spit in his face, then leap back safe. Sing 'Laudes' and bid clap-to the torch. "*""*'

A study of Browning and the Renaissance

can certainly not be concluded v/ithout some con­

sideration of his greatest v/ork. The Rin-: and the

Book. The poem tells its ov/n history. Diarip the

first years following the death of his v/ife, Brov/ning

sought forgetfulness and solace in searc iing out the

histories of old Italian families. V/anderino: about

the square of St. Lorenzo one da^, he found in a

little book shop an old square yellov/ book which

related the story of a Roman murder case tried in

the year 1698. ?/ith his sense for the dramatic.

Browning becam.e interested 1^\ the book and bought

what is now famous as The Old Yellow Book. Over all

Florence he searched for bits of truth connected v/ith

^The Confessional, 11. 7-9^ - The He re-Die ' s Tra.^edy, 11. 33-35.

47

the story told in the book. Then, with the facts

which he found he mixed the alloy of his own poetic

Imagination and produced the poem of Florence and

the Renaissance, which he called The Ring and the

Book. In this poem, as in the shorter ones, we

find reflections of the Renaissance in time, place,

and emotion. The Comparini, wealthy members of the

middle class of Rome, have adopted Pompilia and pre­

tended to others that she is their daughter. They

desire to marry her to a nobleman, and settle upon

Count Guido, a man of the same type as the Duke in

My Last Duchess. At their home in Arezzo they both

live miserable lives. Unable to endure the situation

any longer, Pompilia flees to her parents at Rome

in the company of a chivalrous young priest, Giuseppe

Caponsacchi. Her husband follows with four accomplices

and, finding her in a villa with the Comparini, murders

all three. Then comes the trial and we hear the story

of each one and see his character painted at the same

time. There is the united voice of one-half Rome

against the wife, the voice of the other half Rome

against the husband, and the voice of the Tertium

Quid, the neutral party. Then v/e see Count Guido,

poor and disreputable, seeking favor at Rome. For

the sake of protection he has even t ken r.inor orders

of the Church. On the other hand, like a true Ren­

aissance gentleman, he has lived the gay life of a

48

courtier. And now, tortured on the rack, he con­

fesses to the murder of his wife, Pompilia, because

he feels that he has been cheated and deceived by

her parents and herself. Caponsacchi is representa­

tive again of the Church of the Renaissance. At

his trial he confesses that when he came to take the

vows of priesthood, his bishop told him that religion

was not the serious thing it had been, and that the

life of a priest was easy. Thus, Caponsacchi had

been able to keep up his contact with the v/orld,

and so it happened that he had become acquainted with

Pom.pilia. He is Renaissance also in his conception

of the nobleness and purity of woman, since during

the age, woman represented an ideal. So it is that

Browning paints Pompilia with so noble a character.

There are in the story two other delie:htful Renais­

sance characters. First we see the Public Prosecutor

who has to present the case a -ainst the court. He

cannot resist repeated thrusts at his opponent,

and especially at his love of good living. Guide's

counsel is of the sam.e type. Anxious to make a good

show and to make his rival jealous, he spends much

time in preparation of his speech. He feels that

it is high good fortune to be able to defend a noble

who has killed three persons. True to Renaissance

tradition, he is ver- ^ particular about the Latin he

will use; Vergil suits well but will not do in prose.

49

So he plans to attack his opponent with Terence.

Our last glimpse is of the Pope who seems to be

rather of the Middle Ages than of the Renaissance.

He believes that man's life on earth is devised that

he may draw from all his pain the pleasures of

eternity. After a great deal of deliberation, he

puts aside all his opposition to a sense of duty

and signs an order for the execution of Guido and

his companions. Thus,through the twelve books of

the poem, we get many intimate glimpses of the

turmiOil of human life, and of the interests, ideas,

and ideals of Renaissance Italy.

It was most fitting then that at the death

of Robert Brownina:, Italy should have shared honors

with England and have set up in the xRezzonico Palace

in Venice a memorial tablet to him. For never has

Italy been more sympathetically understood or more

keenly apprecicited than by Bro 'T ing. And he found

her past more glorious tiian her - resT-nt. The

Renaissance v/as unquestionably his field and Italy

was his University. There he m.inr:led with all kinds

of people, wandered about the monasteries and museums,

studying mediaeval history and filling his mind

with pictures of Italy's past. It has been the

purpose of this study to shov/ how completely he iden­

tified himself with the country, how thoroughly he

knew its life and history, and 'Ov/ truly he reflected

it in his poetry. The great number of his poems which

deal with Renaissance themes and figures prove con­

clusively his intense interest in the age. Aside from

being-beautiful poetry, this v ork of Browning's in

the field of the Renaissance performs one of the

greatest services possible to literature. For through

it v/e know the people and their actions, beliefs, and

feelings, and so graphically are they pictured that

they seem alive and human. Brownino- has touched upon

every phase of Renaissance life--political, religious,

literary, and artistic. From the dignity of an Abt

Vogler to the heartlessness and cruelty of the Spanish

Inquisition, we see the life of the age displayed,

not as in the pages of history, but vividly, touched

by the poetic fancy of Browning.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

Browning, Elizabeth Barrett, Letters tci her Sister, 1846-1459. Edited by Leonard Huxley, Lid. John Murray, London, 1931.

Browning, Robert, Complete Poetic and Dramatic Works. Cambridge Edition. Houghton, inifflin and Company, 1895.

Burton, Richard, Literary Likings. Lothrop, Lee and Shepard Company, Boston, 1903.

De Reul, Paul, L'Art et la Pense'e de Robert Browning. Maurice Lamertin, Editeur, Bruxelles, 1929.

Funck-Brentano. The Renaissance. The Maci-iillan Comipany, Nev/ York, 1936.

Major, Mable, Robert Brov/ning and the Florentine Renaissance. Texas Giiristian University Quarterly. Fort V/orth, Texas, July, 1924.

McMahan, Anna Benneson, Florence in the Poetry of the Brov/nings. A. C. LcClurg and Comuany, Chicago, 1904.

Orr, Mrs. Sutherland, Life and Letters of Robert Browning. Ploughton, Mifflin and Company, Boston, 1891.

\

Wise, Thomas J., Letters of Robert Browning. Collected by Thomas J. Wise. Edited by Thurman L. Hood. Yale Upiversity Press, Kew Haven, 1933.