<<

RENAISSANCE THEMES AND FIGURES IN BROWNING'S POETRY

THESIS

Approved:

Approved;

Approved;

Apnroved: 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 II. 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 del Sairto Old Pictui'es in Music 26 ^ Toccata of Galuprd 's Abt VO'-ler Scholarship 28 The Grammarian's Funeral Politics 36 Luria Miscellaneous 40 The Bishop Orders His Tomb Bishop Blontrram' 3 Apolog:7)r The Laborfitory The Confessional The Heretic's Tragedy 46 THE RENAISSANCE ^^ -.

That 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 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 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 . 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 and sculpture. Art, during the Middle Ages, had become definitely associated with the Church, as Brovming's 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 , 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 . 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 , 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 , 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 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 . 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 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 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 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 and Proven9al poet, Sordello, probably came from his reading of Dante's Divine Comedy. The scene is in with Sordello a page at the court of . 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 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 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. iimiirfliiiiiWiiiiiii 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 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.