The Norton Anthology of English literature. Volume 2

195 I hardly dare . . . yet, only you to see, Give the chalk here�quick, thus the line should go! Aye, but the soul! he's Rafael! rub it out! Still, all I care for, if he spoke the truth, (What he? why, who but Michel Agnolo?

200 Do you forget already words like those?) If really there was such a chance, so lost� Is, whether you're�not grateful�but more pleased. Well, let me think so. And you smile indeed! This hour has been an hour! Another smile?

205 If you would sit thus by me every night I should work better, do you comprehend? I mean that I should earn more, give you more. See, it is settled dusk now; there's a star; Morello's gone, the watch-lights show the wall,

210 The cue-owls4 speak the name we call them by. Come from the window, love�come in, at last, Inside the melancholy little house We built to be so gay with. God is just. King Francis may forgive me: oft at nights

215 When I look up from painting, eyes tired out, The walls become illumined, brick from brick Distinct, instead of mortar, fierce bright gold, That gold of his I did cement them with!

4. Scops owls; the term is Browning's coinage from the Italian chili or ciit, a name that imitates their cry.

 .

ANDREA DEL SARTO / 1285

Let us but love each other. Must you go?

220 That Cousin here again? he waits outside? Must see you�you, and not with me? Those loans? More gaming debts to pay?5 you smiled for that? Well, let smiles buy me! have you more to spend? While hand and eye and something of a heart

225 Are left me, work's my ware, and what's it worth? I'll pay my fancy. Only let me sit The gray remainder of the evening out, Idle, you call it, and muse perfectly How I could paint, were I but back in France,

230 One picture, just one more�the Virgin's face, Not yours this time! I want you at my side To hear them�that is, Michel Agnolo� Judge all I do and tell you of its worth. Will you? Tomorrow, satisfy your friend.

235 I take the subjects for his corridor, Finish the portrait out of hand�there, there, And throw him in another thing or two If he demurs; the whole should prove enough To pay for this same Cousin's freak.0 Beside, whim 240 What's better and what's all I care about, Get you the thirteen scudi� for the ruff! Italian coins Love, does that please you? Ah, but what does he, The Cousin! What does he to please you more?

I am grown peaceful as old age tonight.

245 I regret little, I would change still less. Since there my past life lies, why alter it? The very wrong to Francis!�it is true I took his coin, was tempted and complied, And built this house and sinned, and all is said.

250 My father and my mother died of want.6 Well, had I riches of my own? you see How one gets rich! Let each one bear his lot. They were born poor, lived poor, and poor they died: And I have labored somewhat in my time

255 And not been paid profusely. Some good son Paint my two hundred pictures�let him try! No doubt, there's something strikes a balance. Yes, You loved me quite enough, it seems tonight. This must suffice me here. What would one have?

260 In heaven, perhaps, new chances, one more chance� Four great walls in the New Jerusalem,7 Meted on each side by the angel's reed,� measuring rod

For Leonard,8 Rafael, Agnolo and me To cover�the three first without a wife,

5. Lucrezia's "Cousin" (or lover or friend) owes 6. According to Vasari, Andrea's infatuation for gambling debts to a creditor. Andrea has already Lucrezia prompted him to stop supporting his contracted (lines 5�10) to pay off these debts by poverty-stricken parents. painting some pictures according to the creditor's 7. Cf. Revelation 21.10�21. specifications. Now he agrees to pay off further 8. Leonardo da Vinci (1452�1 5 19). debts.

 .

128 6 / ROBERT BROWNING

265 While I have mine! So�still they overcome Because there's still Lucrezia�as I choose.

Again the Cousin's whistle! Go, my Love.

ca. 1853 1855

A Grammarian's Funeral1

Shortly after the Revival of Learning in Europe

Let us begin and carry up this corpse, Singing together. Leave we the common crofts,2 the vulgar thorpes0 villages Each in its tether3 5 Sleeping safe on the bosom of the plain, Cared for till cock-crow: Look out if yonder be not day again Rimming the rock-row! That's the appropriate country; there, man's thought, io Rarer, intenser, Self-gathered for an outbreak, as it ought, Chafes in the censer.4 Leave we the unlettered plain5 its herd and crop; Seek we sepulture0 burial place 15 On a tall mountain, citied to the top, Crowded with culture! All the peaks soar, but one the rest excels; Clouds overcome it; No! yonder sparkle is the citadel's 20 Circling its summit. Thither our path lies; wind we up the heights: Wait ye the warning? Our low life was the level's and the night's; He's for the morning. 25 Step to a tune, square chests, erect each head, Ware the beholders!6 This is our master, famous, calm, and dead, Borne on our shoulders.