Robert Browning - Delphi Poets Series

Home > Fantasy > Robert Browning - Delphi Poets Series > Page 185
Robert Browning - Delphi Poets Series Page 185

by Robert Browning


  Nay, Aristullos, — once your volley spent

  On the male-Kirké and her swinish crew, —

  Platon , — so others call the youth we love, —

  Sends your performance to the curious king —

  “Do you desire to know Athenai’s knack

  At turning seriousness to pleasantry?

  Read this! One Aristullos means myself.

  The author is indeed a merry grig!”

  Nay, it would seem as if yourself were bent

  On laying down the law “Tell lies I must —

  Aforethought and of purpose, no mistake!”

  When forth yourself step, tell us from the stage

  “Here you behold the King of Comedy —

  Me, who, the first, have purged my every piece

  From each and all my predecessors’ filth,

  Abjured those satyr-adjuncts sewn to bid

  The boys laugh, satyr-jokes whereof not one

  Least sample but would make my hair turn grey

  Beyond a twelvemonth’s ravage! I renounce

  Mountebank-claptrap, such as firework-fizz

  And torchflare, or else nuts and barleycorns

  Scattered among the crowd, to scramble for

  And stop their mouths with; no such stuff shames me!

  Who, — what’s more serious, — know both when to strike

  And when to stay my hand: once dead, my foe,

  Why, done, my fighting! I attack a corpse?

  I spare the corpse-like even! punish age?

  I pity from my soul that sad effete

  Toothless old mumbler called Kratinos! once

  My rival, — now, alack, the dotard slinks

  Ragged and hungry to what hole’s his home;

  Ay, slinks thro’ byways where no passenger

  Flings him a bone to pick. You formerly

  Adored the Muses’ darling: dotard now,

  Why, he may starve! O mob most mutable!”

  So you harangued in person; while, — to point

  Precisely out, these were but lies you launched, —

  Prompt, a play followed primed with satyr-frisks,

  No spice spared of the stomach-turning stew,

  Full-fraught with torch-display, and barley-throw,

  And Kleon, dead enough, bedaubed afresh;

  While daft Kratinos — home to hole trudged he,

  Wrung dry his wit to the last vinous dregs,

  Decanted them to “Bottle,” — beat, next year, —

  “Bottle” and dregs — your best of “Clouds” and dew!

  Where, Comic King, may keenest eye detect

  Improvement on your predecessors’ work

  Except in lying more audaciously?

  Why — genius! That’s the grandeur, that’s the gold —

  That’s you — superlatively true to touch —

  Gold, leaf or lump — gold, anyhow the mass

  Takes manufacture and proves Pallas’ casque

  Or, at your choice, simply a cask to keep

  Corruption from decay. Your rivals’ hoard

  May ooze forth, lacking such preservative:

  Yours cannot — gold plays guardian far too well!

  Genius, I call you : dross, your rivals share;

  Ay, share and share alike, too! says the world,

  However you pretend supremacy

  In aught beside that gold, your very own.

  Satire? “Kratinos for our satirist!”

  The world cries. Elegance? “Who elegant

  As Eupolis?” resounds as noisily.

  Artistic fancy? Choros-creatures quaint?

  Magnes invented “Birds” and “Frogs” enough,

  Archippos punned, Hegemon parodied,

  To heart’s content, before you stepped on stage.

  Moral invective? Eupolis exposed

  “That prating beggar, he who stole the cup,”

  Before your “Clouds” rained grime on Sokrates;

  Nay, what beat “Clouds” but “Konnos,” muck for mud?

  Courage? How long before, well-masked, you poured

  Abuse on Eukrates and Lusikles,

  Did Telekleides and Hermippos pelt

  Their Perikles and Kumon? standing forth,

  Bareheaded, not safe crouched behind a name, —

  Philonides or else Kallistratos,

  Put forth, when danger threatened, — mask for face,

  To bear the brunt, — if blame fell, take the blame, —

  If praise . . . why, frank laughed Aristophanes

  “They write such rare stuff? No, I promise you!”

  Rather, I see all true improvements, made

  Or making, go against you — tooth and nail

  Contended with; ‘t is still Moruchides,

  ‘T is Euthumenes, Surakosios, nay,

  Argurrhios and Kinesias, — common sense

  And public shame, these only cleanse your stye!

  Coerced, prohibited, — you grin and bear,

  And, soon as may be, hug to heart again

  The banished nastiness too dear to drop!

  Krates could teach and practise festive song

  Yet scorn scurrility; as gay and good,

  Pherekrates could follow. Who loosed hold,

  Must let fall rose-wreath, stoop to muck once more?

  Did your particular self advance in aught,

  Task the sad genius — steady slave the while —

  To further — say, the patriotic aim?

  No, there’s deterioration manifest

  Year by year, play by play! survey them all,

  From that boy’s-triumph when “Acharnes” dawned,

  To “Thesmophoriazousai,” — this man’s-shame!

  There, truly, patriot zeal so prominent

  Allowed friends’ plea perhaps: the baser stuff

  Was but the nobler spirit’s vehicle.

  Who would imprison, unvolatilize

  A violet’s perfume, blends with fatty oils

  Essence too fugitive in flower alone;

  So, calling unguent — violet, call the play —

  Obscenity impregnated with “Peace”!

  But here’s the boy grown bald, and here’s the play

  With twenty years’ experience: where’s one spice

  Of odour in the hog’s-lard? what pretends

  To aught except a grease-pot’s quality?

  Friend, sophist-hating! know, — worst sophistry

  Is when man’s own soul plays its own self false,

  Reasons a vice into a virtue, pleads

  “I detail sin to shame its author” — not

  “I shame Ariphrades for sin’s display”!

  “I show Opora to commend Sweet Home” —

  Not “I show Bacchis for the striplings’ sake!”

  Yet all the same — O genius and O gold —

  Had genius ne’er diverted gold from use

  Worthy the temple, to do copper’s work

  And coat a swine’s trough — which abundantly

  Might furnish Phoibos’ tripod, Pallas’ throne!

  Had you, I dream, discarding all the base,

  The brutish, spurned alone convention’s watch

  And ward against invading decency

  Disguised as license, law in lawlessness,

  And so, re-ordinating outworn rule,

  Made Comedy and Tragedy combine,

  Prove some new Both-yet-neither, all one bard,

  Euripides with Aristophanes

  Coöperant! this, reproducing Now

  As that gave Then existence: Life to-day,

  This, as that other — Life dead long ago!

  The mob decrees such feat no crown, perchance,

  But — why call crowning the reward of quest?

  Tell him, my other poet, — where thou walk’st

  Some rarer world than e’er Ilissos washed!

  But dream goes idly in the air. To earth!

  Earth’s q
uestion just amounts to — which succeeds,

  Which fails of two life-long antagonists?

  Suppose my charges all mistake! assume

  Your end, despite ambiguous means, the best —

  The only! you and he, a patriot-pair,

  Have striven alike for one result — say, Peace!

  You spoke your best straight to the arbiters —

  Our people: have you made them end this war

  By dint of laughter and abuse and lies

  And postures of Oporia? Sadly — No!

  This war, despite your twenty-five years’ work,

  May yet endure until Athenai falls,

  And freedom falls with her. So much for you!

  Now, the antagonist Euripides —

  Has he succeeded better? Who shall say?

  He spoke quite o’er the heads of Kleon’s crowd

  To a dim future, and if there he fail,

  Why, you are fellows in adversity.

  But that’s unlike the fate of wise words launched

  By music on their voyage. Hail, Depart,

  Arrive, Glad Welcome! Not my single wish —

  Yours also wafts the white sail on its way,

  Your nature too is kingly. All beside

  I call pretension — no true potentate,

  Whatever intermediary be crowned,

  Zeus or Poseidon, where the vulgar sky

  Lacks not Triballos to complete the group.

  I recognize, — behind such phantom-crew, —

  Necessity, Creation, Poet’s Power,

  Else never had I dared approach, appeal

  To poetry, power, Aristophanes!

  But I trust truth’s inherent kingliness,

  Trust who, by reason of much truth, shall reign

  More or less royally — may prayer but push

  His sway past limit, purge the false from true!

  Nor, even so, had boldness nerved my tongue

  But that the other king stands suddenly,

  In all the grand investiture of death,

  Bowing your knee beside my lowly head —

  Equals one moment!

  Now, arise and go!

  Both have done homage to Euripides!

  Silence pursued the words: till he broke out —

  “Scarce so! This constitutes, I may believe,

  Sufficient homage done by who defames

  Your poet’s foe, since you account me such;

  But homage-proper, — pay it by defence

  Of him, direct defence and not oblique,

  Not by mere mild admonishment of me!

  Defence? The best, the only! I replied.

  A story goes — When Sophokles, last year,

  Cited before tribunal by his son

  (A poet — to complete the parallel)

  Was certified unsound of intellect,

  And claimed as only fit for tutelage,

  Since old and doating and incompetent

  To carry on this world’s work, — the defence

  Consisted just in his reciting (calm

  As the verse bore, which sets our heart a-swell

  And voice a-heaving too tempestuously)

  That choros-chant “The station of the steed,

  Stranger! thou comest to, — Kolonos white!”

  Then he looked round and all revolt was dead.

  You know the one adventure of my life —

  What made Euripides Balaustion’s friend.

  When I last saw him, as he bade farewell,

  “I sang another ‘Herakles,’“ smiled he;

  “It gained no prize: your love be prize I gain!

  Take it — the tablets also where I traced

  The story first with stulos pendent still —

  Nay, the psalterion may complete the gift,

  So, should you croon the ode bewailing Age,

  Yourself shall modulate — same notes, same strings —

  With the old friend who loved Balaustion once.”

  There they lie! When you broke our solitude,

  We were about to honour him once more

  By reading the consummate Tragedy.

  Night is advanced; I have small mind to sleep;

  May I go on, and read, — so make defence,

  So test true godship? You affirm, not I,

  — Beating the god, affords such test: I hold

  That when rash hands but touch divinity,

  The chains drop off, the prison-walls dispart,

  And — fire — he fronts mad Pentheus! Dare we try?

  Accordingly I read the perfect piece.

  THE INN ALBUM

  CONTENTS

  I

  II

  III

  IV

  V

  VI

  VII

  VIII

  THE INN ABLUM

  I

  “That oblong book’s the Album; hand it here!

  Exactly! page on page of gratitude

  For breakfast, dinner, supper, and the view!

  I praise these poets: they leave margin-space;

  Each stanza seems to gather skirts around,

  And primly, trimly, keep the foot’s confine,

  Modest and maidlike; lubber prose o’er-sprawls

  And straddling stops the path from left to right.

  Since I want space to do my cipher-work,

  Which poem spares a corner? What comes first?

  ‘Hail, calm acclivity, salubrious spot!’

  (Open the window, we burn daylight, boy!)

  Or see — succincter beauty, brief and bold —

  ‘If a fellow can dine On rumpsteaks and port wine,

  He needs not despair Of dining well here — ’

  ‘Here!’ I myself could find a better rhyme!

  That bard’s a Browning; he neglects the form:

  But ah, the sense, ye gods, the weighty sense!

  Still, I prefer this classic. Ay, throw wide!

  I’ll quench the bits of candle yet unburnt.

  A minute’s fresh air, then to cipher-work!

  Three little columns hold the whole account:

  Ecarté, after which Blind Hookey, then

  Cutting-the-Pack, five hundred pounds the cut.

  ‘Tis easy reckoning: I have lost, I think.”

  Two personages occupy this room

  Shabby-genteel, that’s parlor to the inn

  Perched on a view-commanding eminence;

  — — — — -Inn which may be a veritable house

  Where somebody once lived and pleased good taste

  Till tourists found his coign of vantage out,

  And fingered blunt the individual mark

  And vulgarized things comfortably smooth.

  On a sprig-pattern-papered wall there brays

  Complaint to sky Sir Edwin’s dripping stag;

  His couchant coast-guard creature corresponds;

  They face the Huguenot and Light o’ the World.

  Grim o’er the mirror on the mantlepiece,

  Varnished and coffined, Salmo ferox glares

  — Possibly at the List of Wines which, framed

  And glazed, hangs somewhat prominent on peg.

  So much describes the stuffy little room —

  Vulgar flat smooth respectability:

  Not so the burst of landscape surging in,

  Sunrise and all, as he who of the pair

  Is, plain enough, the younger personage

  Draws sharp the shrieking curtain, sends aloft

  The sash, spreads wide and fastens back to wall

  Shutter and shutter, shows you England’s best.

  He leans into a living glory-bath

  Of air and light where seems to float and move

  The wooded watered country, hill and dale

  And steel-bright thread of stream, a-smoke with mist,

  A-sparkle with May morning, diamond drift

  O’ the sun-touched dew. Except the red-roofed patch

/>   Of half a dozen dwellings that, crept close

  For hill-side shelter, make the village-clump

  This inn is perched above to dominate —

  Except such sign of human neighborhood,

  (And this surmised rather than sensible)

  There’s nothing to disturb absolute peace,

  The reign of English nature — which mean art

  And civilized existence. Wildness’ self

  Is just the cultured triumph. Presently

  Deep solitude, be sure, reveals a Place

  That knows the right way to defend itself:

  Silence hems round a burning spot of life.

  Now, where a Place burns, must a village brood,

  And where a village broods, an inn should boast —

  Close and convenient: here you have them both.

  This inn, the Something-arms — the family’s —

  (Don’t trouble Guillim; heralds leave our half!)

  Is dear to lovers of the picturesque,

  And epics have been planned here; but who plan

  Take holy orders and find work to do.

  Painters are more productive, stop a week,

  Declare the prospect quite a Corot, — ay,

  For tender sentiment, — themselves incline

  Rather to handsweep large and liberal;

  Then go, but not without success achieved

  — Haply some pencil-drawing, oak or beech,

  Ferns at the base and ivies up the bole,

  On this a slug, on that a butterfly.

  Nay, he who hooked the salmo pendent here,

  Also exhibited, this same May-month,

  ‘Foxgloves: a study’ — so inspires the scene,

  The air, which now the younger personage

  Inflates him with till lungs o’erfraught are fain

  Sigh forth a satisfaction might bestir

  Even those tufts of tree-tops to the South

  I’ the distance where the green dies off to grey,

  Which, easy of conjecture, front the Place;

  He eyes them, elbows wide, each hand to cheek.

  His fellow, the much older — either say

  A youngish-old man or man oldish-young —

  Sits at the table: wicks are noisome-deep

  In wax, to detriment of plated ware;

  Above — piled, strewn — is store of playing-cards,

  Counters and all that’s proper for a game.

  He sets down, rubs out figures in the book, 100

  Adds and subtracts, puts back here, carries there.

  Until the summed-up satisfaction stands

  Apparent, and he pauses o’er the work:

  Soothes what of brain was busy under brow.

  By passage of the hard palm, curing so

  Wrinkle and crowfoot for a second’s space;

  Then lays down book and laughs out. No mistake.

  Such the sum-total — ask Colenso else!

 

‹ Prev