itmustbemixedwithalloytogainthenecessarypowerofresistance。
　　Theringonceformedandembossed，thealloyisdisengaged，andapuregoldornamentremains。Mr。Browning’smaterialwasalsoinadequatetohispurpose，thoughfromadifferentcause。
　　ItwastooHARD。Itwas`purecrudefact’，secretedfromthefluidbeingofthemenandwomenwhoseexperienceithadformed。Initsexistingstateitwouldhavebrokenupundertheartisticattempttoweldandroundit。
　　Hesuppliedanalloy，thealloyoffancy，orashealsocallsit
　　ofonefactmore：thisfactbeingtheechoofthosepastexistencesawakenedwithinhisown。Hebreathedintothedeadrecordthebreathofhisownlife；andwhenhisringofevidencehadre-formed，firstinelastictheninsolidstrength，heredelicatelyincised，therebroadlystampedwithhumanthoughtandpassion，hecouldcastfancyaside，andbidhisreadersrecogniseinwhathesetbeforethemunadulteratedhumantruth。“Mrs。Orr。
　　Ontheafternoonofthedayonwhichhemadehispurchasehereadthebookfromendtoend。“ASpiritlaughedandleaptthrougheverylimb。“Themidsummerheatshadcausedthunder-cloudstocongregateaboveVallombrosaandthewholevalleyofArno：
　　andtheairinFlorencewaspainfullysultry。ThepoetstoodbyhimselfonhisterraceatCasaGuidi，andashewatchedthefireflieswanderingfromtheenclosedgardens，andthesheet-lightningsquiveringthroughtheheatedatmosphere，hismindwasbusyinrefashioningtheoldtaleoflovelessmarriageandcrime。
　　“BeneathI’thestreet，quickshownbyopeningsoftheskyWhenflamefellsilentlyfromcloudtocloud，RicherthanthatgoldsnowJoverainedonRhodes，Thetownsmenwalkedbytwosandthrees，andtalked，Drinkingtheblacknessindefaultofair
　　Abusyhumansensebeneathmyfeet：
　　Whileinandouttheterrace-plants，androundOnebranchoftalldatura，waxedandwanedThelamp-flyluredthere，wantingthewhiteflower。“
　　Scenebyscenewasre-enacted，thoughofcourseonlyincertainessentialdetails。ThefinalfoodfortheimaginationwasfoundinapamphletofwhichhecameintopossessionofinLondon，whereseveralimportantmattersweregivenwhichhadnoplaceinthevolumehehadpickedupinFlorence。
　　Much，farthegreaterpart，ofthefirst“book“isinteresting!
　　Itismereverse。Asverse，even，itisoftensoinvolved，somusiclessoccasionally，sobanalnowandagain，soinartisticincolouraswellasinform，thatonewould，havingapprehendeditsexplanatoryinterest，passonwithoutregret，wereitnotforthenobleclosethepassionate，out-wellinglinesto“thetruestpoetIhaveeverknown，“thebeautifulsoulwhohadgivenheralltohim，whom，butfouryearsbeforehewrotethesewords，hehadlaidtorestamongthecypressesandilexesoftheoldFlorentinegardenofthedead。
　　“OlyricLove，halfangelandhalfbirdAndallawonderandawilddesire，
　　Boldestofheartsthateverbravedthesun，Tooksanctuarywithintheholierblue，Andsangakindredsoulouttohisface，
　　Yethumanatthered-ripeoftheheart
　　WhenthefirstsummonsfromthedarklingearthReachedtheeamidthychambers，blanchedtheirblue，Andbaredthemoftheglorytodropdown，Totoilforman，tosufferortodie，
　　Thisisthesamevoice：canthysoulknowchange？
　　Hailthen，andhearkenfromtherealmsofhelp!
　　NevermayIcommencemysong，mydueToGodwhobesttaughtsongbygiftofthee，Exceptwithbentheadandbeseechinghand
　　Thatstill，despitethedistanceandthedark，Whatwas，againmaybe；someinterchangeOfgrace，somesplendouroncethyverythought，Somebenedictionancientlythysmile：
　　Neverconclude，butraisinghandandheadThitherwhereeyes，thatcannotreach，yetyearnForallhope，allsustainment，allreward，Theirutmostupandon，soblessingbackInthosethyrealmsofhelp，thatheaventhyhome，Somewhitenesswhich，Ijudge，thyfacemakesproud，Somewannesswhere，Ithink，thyfootmayfall!“
　　Thereafter，forcloseuponfivethousandwords，thepoemdescendsagaintothelevelofaversifiedtale。Itissavedfromruinbysubtletyofintellect，strikingdramaticverisimilitude，anextraordinaryvigour，andoccasionallinesofrealpoetry。
　　Retrospectively，apartfromtheinterest，oftenstrainedtotheutmost，mostreaders，Ifancy，willrecallwithlingeringpleasureonlytheopeningof“TheOtherHalfRome“，thedescriptionofPompilia，“withthepatientbrowandlamentablesmile，“withflower-likebody，inwhitehospitalarrayachildwitheyesofinfinitepathos，“whetheraflowerorweed，ruined：whodiditshallaccounttoChrist。“
　　InthesethreeintroductorybookswehavetheviewofthemattertakenbythosewhosidewithCountGuido，ofthosewhoareallforPompilia，andofthe“superiorperson“，impartialbecausesuperciliouslyindifferent，thoughsufficientlyinterestedto“opine“。
　　Intheensuingthreebooksamuchhigherpoeticlevelisreached。
　　Inthefirst，Guidospeaks；inthesecond，Caponsacchi；thethird，thatlustrousopalsetmidwayinthe“Ring“，isPompilia’snarrative。
　　Herethethreeprotagonistsliveandmovebeforeoureyes。
　　Thesixthbookmaybesaidtobetheheartofthewholepoem。
　　TheextremeintellectualsubtletyofGuido’spleastandsquiteunrivalledinpoeticliterature。Incomparingit，foritspoeticbeauty，withothersections，thereadermustbearinmindthatinapoemofadramaticnaturethedramaticproprietiesmustbedominant。
　　ItwouldbeobviouslyinappropriatetomakeCountGuidoFranceschinispeakwiththedignityofthePope，withtheexquisitepathosofPompilia，withtheardour，likesuppressedmoltenlava，ofCaponsacchi。
　　Theself-defenceofthelatterisasuperbpieceofdramaticwriting。
　　Onceortwicetheflamingvolcanoofhisheartburstsupwarduncontrollably，aswhenhecries
　　“No，sirs，Icannothavetheladydead!
　　Thaterectform，flashingbrow，fulguranteye，Thatvoiceimmortaloh，thatvoiceofhers!
　　ThatvisionofthepaleelectricswordAngelsgoarmedwiththatwasnotthelastO’thelady。Come，Iseethroughit，youfind，Knowthemanoeuvre!AlsoherselfsaidIhadsavedher：doyoudaresayshespokefalse？
　　Letmeseeformyselfifitbeso!“
　　Thanthepoignantpathosandbeautyof“Pompilia“，thereisnothingmoreexquisiteinourliterature。Itstandsalone。HereatlastwehavethepoetwhoistheLancelottoShakespeare’sArthur。
　　Ittakesasupremeeffortofgeniustobeassimpleasachild。
　　Howmarvellously，afterthealmostsublimehypocrisyoftheendofGuido’sdefence，afterthebeautifuldignityofCaponsacchi’sclosingwords，culminatingabruptlyintheheart-wrungcry，“Ogreat，just，goodGod!
　　miserableme!“howmarvellouslycomesuponthereaderthedelicate，tearfultendernessoftheinnocentchild-wife
　　“Iamjustseventeenyearsandfivemonthsold，And，ifIlivedonedaymore，threefullweeks；
　　’Tiswritsointhechurch’sregister，LorenzoinLucina，allmynamesAtlength，somanynamesforonepoorchild，FrancescaCamillaVittoriaAngelaPompiliaComparinilaughable!“
　　Onlytwowritersofouragehavedepictedwomenwiththatimaginativeinsightwhichisatoncemorecomprehensiveandmoreilluminativethanwomen’sowninvisionofthemselvesRobertBrowningandGeorgeMeredith，butnoteventhelatter，mostsubtleanddelicateofallanalystsofthetragi-comedyofhumanlife，hassurpassed“Pompilia“。
　　ThemeetingandtheswiftuprisingoflovebetweenLucyandRichard，in“TheOrdealofRichardFeveral“，is，itistrue，withinthehighestreachofproseromance：butbetweeneventheloftiestheightofproseromanceandthealtitudesofpoetry，thereisanimpassablegulf。
　　Andasitiswithsimplicitysoitiswithtenderness。
　　Onlythesternlystrongcanbesupremelytender。Andinfinitelytenderisthepoetryof“Pompilia“
　　“Oh，howgoodGodisthatmybabewasborn，Betterthanborn，baptisedandhidawayBeforethishappened，safefrombeinghurt!
　　ThathadbeensinGodcouldnotwellforgive：
　　HEWASTOOYOUNGTOSMILEANDSAVEHIMSELF“
　　orthelineswhichtellhowasalittlegirlshegaveherrosesnottothespickandspanMadonnaoftheChurch，buttothepoor，dilapidatedVirgin，“atourstreet-cornerinalonelyniche，“
　　withthebabethathadsatuponherkneesbrokenoff：
　　orthatpassage，withitsexquisitenaivete，wherePompiliarelateswhyshecalledherboyGaetano，becauseshewished“nooldnameforsorrow’ssake，“sochosethelatestadditiontothesaints，electedonlytwenty-fiveyearsbefore
　　“So，carefuller，perhaps，Toguardanamesakethanthoseoldsaintsgrow，Tiredoutbythistime，seemyownfivesaints!“
　　orthese