'Dtatue And The Bust, The' by Robert Browning
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There's a palace in Florence, the world knows well,
And a statue watches it from the square,
And this story of both do our townsmen tell.
Ages ago, a lady there,
At the farthest window facing the East
Asked, ``Who rides by with the royal air?''
The bridesmaids' prattle around her ceased;
She leaned forth, one on either hand;
They saw how the blush of the bride increased---
They felt by its beats her heart expand---
As one at each ear and both in a breath
Whispered, ``The Great-Duke Ferdinand.''
That self-same instant, underneath,
The Duke rode past in his idle way,
Empty and fine like a swordless sheath.
Gay he rode, with a friend as gay,
Till he threw his head back---``Who is she?''
---``A bride the Riccardi brings home to-day.''
Hair in heaps lay heavily
Over a pale brow spirit-pure---
Carved like the heart of a coal-black tree,
Crisped like a war-steed's encolure<*1>---
And vainly sought to dissemble her eyes
Of the blackest black our eyes endure.
And lo, a blade for a knight's emprise
Filled the fine empty sheath of a man,---
The Duke grew straightway brave and wise.
He looked at her, as a lover can;
She looked at him, as one who awakes:
The past was a sleep, and her life began.
Now, love so ordered for both their sakes,
A feast was held that selfsame night
In the pile which the mighty shadow makes.
(For Via Larga is three-parts light,
But the palace overshadows one,
Because of a crime which may God requite!
To Florence and God the wrong was done,
Through the first republic's murder there
By Cosimo and his cursed son.)
The Duke (with the statue's face in the square)
Turned in the midst of his multitude
At the bright approach of the bridal pair.
Face to face the lovers stood
A single minute and no more,
While the bridegroom bent as a man subdued---
Bowed till his bonnet brushed the floor---
For the Duke on the lady a kiss conferred,
As the courtly custom was of yore.
In a minute can lovers exchange a word?
If a word did pass, which I do not think,
Only one out of the thousand heard.
That was the bridegroom. At day's brink
He and his bride were alone at last
In a bedchamber by a taper's blink.
Calmly he said that her lot was cast,
That the door she had passed was shut on her
Till the final catafalk<*2> repassed.
The world meanwhile, its noise and stir,
Through a certain window facing the East,
She could watch like a convent's chronicler.
Since passing the door might lead to a feast,
And a feast might lead to so much beside,
He, of many evils, chose the least.
``Freely I choose too,'' said the bride---
``Your window and its world suffice,''
Replied the tongue, while the heart replied---
``If I spend the night with that devil twice,
``May his window serve as my loop of hell
``Whence a damned soul looks on paradise!
``I fly to the Duke who loves me well,
``Sit by his side and laugh at sorrow
``Ere I count another ave-bell.
``'Tis only the coat of a page to borrow,
``And tie my hair in a horse-boy's trim,
``And I save my soul---but not to-morrow''---
(She checked herself and her eye grew dim)
``My father tarries to bless my state:
``I must keep it one day more for him.
``Is one day more so long to wait?
``Moreover the Duke rides past, I know;
``We shall see each other, sure as fate.''
She turned on her side and slept. Just so!
So we resolve on a thing and sleep:
So did the lady, ages ago.
That night the Duke said, ``Dear or cheap
``As the cost of this cup of bliss may prove
``To body or soul, I will drain it deep.''
And on the morrow, bold with love,
He beckoned the bridegroom (close on call,
As his duty bade, by the Duke's alcove)
And smiled ``'Twas a very funeral,
``Your lady will think, this feast of ours,---
``A shame to efface, whate'er befall!
``What if we break from the Arno bowers,
``And try if Petraja, cool and green,
``Cure last night's fault with this morning's flowers?''
The bridegroom, not a thought to be seen
On his steady brow and quiet mouth,
Said, ``Too much favour for me so mean!
``But, alas! my lady leaves the South;
``Each wind that comes from the Apennine
``Is a menace to her tender youth:
``Nor a way exists, the wise opine,
``If she quits her palace twice this year,
``To avert the flower of life's decline.''
Quoth the Duke, ``A sage and a kindly fear.
``Moreover Petraja is cold this spring:
``Be our feast to-night as usual here!''
And then to himself---``Which night shall bring
Thy bride to her lover's embraces, fool---
Or I am the fool, and thou art the king!
``Yet my passion must wait a night, nor cool---
``For to-night the Envoy arrives from France
``Whose heart I unlock with thyself, my tool.
``I need thee still and might miss perchance.
``To-day is not wholly lost, beside,
``With its hope of my lady's countenance:
``For I ride---what should I do but ride?
``And passing her palace, if I list,
``May glance at its window---well betide!''
So said, so done: nor the lady missed
One ray that broke from the ardent brow,
Nor a curl of the lips where the spirit kissed.
Be sure that each renewed the vow,
No morrow's sun should arise---and set
And leave them then as it left them now.
But next day passed, and next day yet,
With still fresh cause to wait one day more
Ere each leaped over the parapet.
And still, as love's brief morning wore,
With a gentle start, half smile, half sigh,
They found love not as it seemed before.
They thought it would work infallibly,
But not in despite of heaven and earth:
The rose would blow when the storm passed by.
Meantime they could profit in winter's dearth
By store of fruits that supplant the rose:
The world and its ways have a certain worth:
And to press a point while these oppose
Were simple policy; better wait:
We lose no friends and we gain no foes.
Meantime, worse fates than a lover's fate,
Who daily may ride and pass and look
Where his lady watches behind the grate!
And she---she watched the square like a book
holding one picture and only one,
Which daily to find she undertook:
When the picture was reached the book was done,
And she turned from the picture at night to scheme
Of tearing it out for herself next sun.
So weeks grew months, years; gleam by gleam
The glory dropped from their youth and love,
And both perceived they had dreamed a dream;
Which hovered as dreams do, still above:
But who can take a dream for a truth?
Oh, hide our eyes from the next remove!
One day as the lady saw her youth
Depart, and the silver thread that streaked
Her hair, and, worn by the serpent's tooth,
The brow so puckered, the chin so peaked,---
And wondered who the woman was,
Hollow-eyed and haggard-cheeked,
Fronting her silent in the glass---
``Summon here,'' she suddenly said,
``Before the rest of my old self pass,
``Him, the Carver, a hand to aid,
``Who fashions the clay no love will change,
``And fixes a beauty never to fade.
``Let Robbia's craft so apt and strange
``Arrest the remains of young and fair,
``And rivet them while the seasons range.
``Make me a face on the window there,
``Waiting as ever, mute the while,
``My love to pass below in the square!
``And let me think that it may beguile
``Dreary days which the dead must spend
``Down in their darkness under the aisle,
``To say, `What matters it at the end?
`` `I did no more while my heart was warm
`` `Than does that image, my pale-faced friend.'
``Where is the use of the lip's red charm,
``The heaven of hair, the pride of the brow,
``And the blood that blues the inside arm---
``Unless we turn as the soul knows how,
``The earthly gift to an end divine?
``A lady of clay is as good, I trow.''
But long ere Robbia's cornice, fine,
With flowers and fruits which leaves enlace,
Was set where now is the empty shrine---
(And, leaning out of a bright blue space,
As a ghost might lean from a chink of sky,
The passionate pale lady's face---
Eyeing ever, with earnest eye
And quick-turned neck at its breathless stretch,
Some one who ever is passing by---)
The Duke had sighed like the simplest wretch
In Florence, ``Youth---my dream escapes!
Will its record stay?'' And he bade them fetch
Some subtle moulder of brazen shapes---
``Can the soul, the will, die out of a man
``Ere his body find the grave that gapes?
``John of Douay<*3> shall effect my plan,
``Set me on horseback here aloft,
``Alive, as the crafty sculptor can,
``In the very square I have crossed so oft:
``That men may admire, when future suns
``Shall touch the eyes to a purpose soft,
``While the mouth and the brow stay brave in bronze---
``Admire and say, `When he was alive
`` `How he would take his pleasure once!'
``And it shall go hard but I contrive
``To listen the while, and laugh in my tomb
``At idleness which aspires to strive.''
------------
So! While these wait the trump of doom,
How do their spirits pass, I wonder,
Nights and days in the narrow room?
Still, I suppose, they sit and ponder
What a gift life was, ages ago,
Six steps out of the chapel yonder.
Only they see not God, I know,
Nor all that chivalry of his,
The soldier-saints who, row on row,
Burn upward each to his point of bliss---
Since, the end of life being manifest,
He had burned his way thro' the world to this.
I hear you reproach, ``But delay was best,
For their end was a crime.''---Oh, a crime will do
As well, I reply, to serve for a test,
As a virtue golden through and through,
Sufficient to vindicate itself
And prove its worth at a moment's view!
Must a game be played for the sale of pelf?
Where a button goes, 'twere an epigram
To offer the stamp of the very Guelph.
The true has no value beyond the sham:
As well the counter as coin, I submit,
When your table's a hat, and your prize a dram.
Stake your counter as boldly every whit,
Venture as warily, use the same skill,
Do your best, whether winning or losing it,
If you choose to play!---is my principle.
Let a man contend to the uttermost
For his life's set prize, be it what it will!
The counter our lovers staked was lost
As surely as if it were lawful coin:
And the sin I impute to each frustrate ghost
Is---the unlit lamp and the ungirt loin,
Though the end in sight was a vice, I say.
You of the virtue (we issue join)
How strive you? _De te, fabula!_
*1 Neck and shoulder of a horse.
*2 The stage or scaffolding for a coffin whilst
*2 in the church.
*3 Giovanni of Bologna, a sculptor.
Editor 1 Interpretation
The Artistic Mastery of Robert Browning’s “The Statue and the Bust”
Have you ever been entranced by the beauty of a statue, wishing it could speak and tell you its story? Such is the premise of Robert Browning’s “The Statue and the Bust”, a poem that explores the themes of unrequited love, jealousy, and betrayal through the perspectives of two inanimate objects. This classic piece of Victorian poetry not only showcases Browning’s command of language, but also his ability to weave together intricate narratives with depth and emotion.
Overview of the Poem
“The Statue and the Bust” is structured as a dramatic monologue, with two speakers - a male statue and a female bust. The poem takes place in Florence, Italy and centers around the love affair between Duke Guido Ferranti and his mistress, the beautiful and cunning Lady Ermengarde. The statue is a representation of the Duke, while the bust symbolizes Lady Ermengarde. Both objects are separated by a wall and are unable to communicate with each other except through their respective monologues.
The statue begins by reminiscing about his past, recounting how he had once been a living, breathing man who had loved Lady Ermengarde. He describes how they had secretly met in his palace, and how he had showered her with gifts and affection. However, their relationship was cut short when the Duke’s wife returned from a trip, forcing Lady Ermengarde to break things off.
The bust then takes over the narrative, describing how she had also loved the Duke and how they had continued their affair despite Lady Ermengarde’s presence. She speaks of how she had become jealous of the statue and how she had devised a plan to get rid of him. She had convinced the Duke to commission a statue of himself, hoping that it would replace the living statue in Lady Ermengarde’s heart. However, her plan backfires when the Duke becomes enamored with his own image and forgets about her.
The poem concludes with the statue expressing his regret at not being able to be with Lady Ermengarde, while the bust laments her own fate of being forever frozen in stone.
Analysis of the Themes
One of the main themes that Browning explores in “The Statue and the Bust” is unrequited love. Both the statue and the bust are representations of individuals who are unable to attain their desired loves. The statue’s love for Lady Ermengarde is unrequited due to their differing social statuses and the Duke’s involvement. On the other hand, the bust’s love for the Duke is unrequited because of his vanity and self-love.
The theme of jealousy also runs throughout the poem, particularly from the bust’s perspective. She resents the statue for his past relationship with Lady Ermengarde and fears that he will win her back. Her jealousy ultimately leads to her downfall, as she underestimates the Duke’s vanity and his ability to become enamored with his own image.
Finally, the theme of betrayal is present in the poem as well. Lady Ermengarde betrays the statue by leaving him for the Duke, while the bust betrays the Duke by trying to eliminate her competition. Both acts of betrayal result in tragic consequences for all parties involved.
Interpretation of the Poem
“The Statue and the Bust” can be interpreted in a number of ways, depending on the reader’s perspective. One possible interpretation is that it is a cautionary tale about the dangers of jealousy and vanity. The bust’s jealousy ultimately leads to her downfall, while the Duke’s vanity blinds him from seeing the true nature of those around him.
Another interpretation is that the poem is a commentary on the societal constraints of the time. The statue and Lady Ermengarde are unable to be together due to their differing social statuses, while the bust is trapped in her role as a mistress. The Duke’s vanity and self-love can also be seen as a commentary on the aristocracy’s obsession with appearances and status.
Finally, “The Statue and the Bust” can also be viewed as a tragic love story. Though the statue and Lady Ermengarde are unable to be together in life, their love is immortalized in the statue and the bust. The poem serves as a reminder that even in the face of societal constraints and personal flaws, love can still endure.
Conclusion
In “The Statue and the Bust”, Robert Browning showcases his mastery of storytelling and language. Through the use of two inanimate objects and their respective monologues, he weaves together a complex narrative that explores the themes of unrequited love, jealousy, and betrayal. The poem can be interpreted in a number of ways, from a cautionary tale to a commentary on societal constraints to a tragic love story. Whatever the interpretation, it is clear that “The Statue and the Bust” is a timeless piece of Victorian poetry that continues to captivate readers to this day.
Editor 2 Analysis and Explanation
The Poetry Statue and the Bust by Robert Browning is a classic poem that has stood the test of time. It is a beautiful and complex work of art that explores the themes of love, beauty, and the power of art. In this analysis, we will delve into the poem's structure, language, and meaning to uncover the beauty and depth of this masterpiece.
The poem is divided into two parts, each with its own distinct voice and perspective. The first part is told from the perspective of the statue, while the second part is told from the perspective of the bust. The statue is a representation of a beautiful woman, while the bust is a representation of a man. The two characters are in love with each other, but they are separated by their physical forms.
The poem begins with the statue describing her beauty and the admiration she receives from those who see her. She is proud of her beauty and the power it holds over others. However, she is also aware of her limitations as a statue. She cannot move or speak, and she is trapped in her physical form. She longs to be free and to experience the world beyond her pedestal.
The statue's longing for freedom is echoed in the second part of the poem, where the bust describes his own desire for the statue. He is in love with her beauty and longs to be with her, but he is also aware of the limitations of his own physical form. He is a bust, a representation of a man's head and shoulders, and he cannot move or speak. He is trapped in his own form, just as the statue is trapped in hers.
The language used in the poem is rich and complex, with many layers of meaning. Browning uses metaphors and imagery to create a vivid and powerful picture of the statue and the bust. For example, he describes the statue's beauty as "a heart's impulse, a fancy's play," suggesting that her beauty is not just physical, but also emotional and imaginative. He also describes the bust's desire for the statue as "a passion to surpass her," suggesting that his love for her is not just physical, but also intellectual and creative.
The poem's structure is also significant. It is written in iambic pentameter, a form of poetry that consists of ten syllables per line, with the stress falling on every other syllable. This creates a rhythmic and musical quality to the poem, which adds to its beauty and power. The poem is also divided into two parts, each with its own distinct voice and perspective. This creates a sense of contrast and tension between the two characters, which adds to the drama and emotion of the poem.
The poem's meaning is complex and multi-layered. On one level, it is a love story between two characters who are separated by their physical forms. The statue and the bust are in love with each other, but they cannot be together because of their limitations as statues. This creates a sense of longing and sadness, as the two characters are trapped in their own forms and cannot experience the world beyond them.
On another level, the poem is a commentary on the power of art. The statue and the bust are both representations of art, and their love for each other is a reflection of the power of art to transcend physical limitations. The poem suggests that art has the power to connect us to something beyond ourselves, to something greater and more beautiful than our own physical forms.
In conclusion, The Poetry Statue and the Bust by Robert Browning is a beautiful and complex work of art that explores the themes of love, beauty, and the power of art. The poem's structure, language, and meaning all work together to create a powerful and emotional experience for the reader. It is a timeless masterpiece that continues to inspire and captivate readers to this day.
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