Gr-r-r — there go, my heart’s abhorrence! | |
Water your damned flower-pots, do! | |
If hate killed men, Brother Lawrence, | |
God’s blood, would not mine kill you! | |
What? your myrtle-bush wants trimming? | 5 |
Oh, that rose has prior claims — | |
Needs its leaden vase filled brimming? | |
Hell dry you up with its flames! | |
At the meal we sit together; | |
Salve tibi! I must hear | 10 |
Wise talk of the kind of weather, | |
Sort of season, time of year: | |
Not a plenteous cork-crop: scarcely | |
Dare we hope oak-galls, I doubt: | |
What’s the Latin name for “parsley”? | 15 |
What’s the Greek name for “Swine’s Snout”? | |
Whew! We’ll have our platter burnished, | |
Laid with care on our own shelf! | |
With a fire-new spoon we’re furnished, | |
And a goblet for ourself, | 20 |
Rinsed like something sacrificial | |
Ere ’tis fit to touch our chaps — | |
Marked with L. for our initial! | |
(He-he! There his lily snaps!) | |
Saint, forsooth! While Brown Dolores | 25 |
Squats outside the Convent bank | |
With Sanchicha, telling stories, | |
Steeping tresses in the tank, | |
Blue-black, lustrous, thick like horsehairs, | |
— Can’t I see his dead eye glow, | 30 |
Bright as ’twere a Barbary corsair’s? | |
(That is, if he’d let it show!) | |
When he finishes refection, | |
Knife and fork he never lays | |
Cross-wise, to my recollection, | 35 |
As I do, in Jesu’s praise. | |
I the Trinity illustrate, | |
Drinking watered orange-pulp — | |
In three sips the Arian frustrate; | |
While he drains his at one gulp! | 40 |
Oh, those melons! if he’s able | |
We’re to have a feast; so nice! | |
One goes to the Abbot’s table, | |
All of us get each a slice. | |
How go on your flowers? None double? | 45 |
Not one fruit-sort can you spy? | |
Strange! And I, too, at such trouble, | |
Keep them close-nipped on the sly! | |
There’s a great text in Galatians, | |
Once you trip on it, entails | 50 |
Twenty-nine distinct damnations, | |
One sure, if another fails; | |
If I trip him just a-dying, | |
Sure of heaven as sure can be, | |
Spin him round and send him flying | 55 |
Off to hell, a Manichee? | |
Or, my scrofulous French novel | |
On gray paper with blunt type! | |
Simply glance at it, you grovel | |
Hand and foot in Belial’s gripe; | 60 |
If I double down the pages | |
At the woeful sixteenth print, | |
When he gathers his greengages, | |
Ope a sieve and slip it in’t? | |
Or, there’s Satan! one might venture | 65 |
Pledge one’s soul to him, yet leave | |
Such a flaw in the indenture | |
As he’d miss till, past retrieve, | |
Blasted lay that rose-acacia | |
We’re so proud of! Hy, Zy, Hine . . . . | 70 |
’St, there’s Vespers! Plena gratia | |
Ave, Virgo! Gr-r-r — you swine! | |
|
|
Soliloquy
of the Spanish Cloister
— Browning originally published this poem in Dramatic Lyrics
in 1842 as one of two poems under the title “Camp and Cloister.”
The first poem was called “Camp (French)” and Browning later
renamed it “Incident of the French Camp” (it describes a young
cavalry soldier who brings news of a victory to Napoleon even though “his
breast / Was all but shot in two”). This poem, the second, was called
originally called “Cloister (Spanish).” A cloister is another
term for a monastery, but the word emphasizes the seclusion and walled-off
nature of monastic life. |
|
Salve tibi — a toast, literally “Your health” in Latin | |
oak-galls — a fungus growing on oak-leaves that yields useful tannins used to make dye and ink | |
Swine’s Snout — a term for a kind of dandelion | |
chaps — a word used for the upper and lower jaw, and sometimes the area of the cheek covering the jaws | |
lily — In Christian art, lilies symbolize purity. | |
Barbary Corsair’s — The Barbary Coast in North Africa was the home of pirates (or corsairs, also the name for the kind of ship they sailed) . | |
refection — a light meal | |
Arian
— In early Christianity, a schism developed between the followers
of Athanasius (the Patriarch of Alexandria, now known as the “Father
of Orthodoxy”) and those of Arius (a rival of Athanasius in Alexandria).
Athanasian Christians believed that Jesus was the same being as God and
as the Holy Spirit, and thus made of the same substance (homoousios,
a belief that eventually became known as the doctrine of the Trinity,
which is central to Catholicism and most Protestant versions of Christianity).
Arian Christians (and later, Semi-Arians) argued that Jesus was of a similar
nature and substance as God (homoiousios), but that God had created
Him prior to the creation of the world, and that Jesus was thus subordinate
to God. This view helps explain some paradoxes, such as the sabacthini,
the moment when Jesus cries out on the cross “Why, my God, hast
thou forsaken me?” (which frankly is confusing if they
are the same being). These two ideas were debated and fought over —
literally, as early Christian sectarian violence was common — for
generations, until the Athanasian view won out and the Arian view was
pronounced heresy, though homoiousios has repeatedly reappeared
in one form or another. |
|
fruit-sort — a flower that will turn into fruit | |
on the sly — secretly | |
Galatians — a book of the New Testament | |
Manichee
— a believer in Manicheanism. Manicheans were Christians whose beliefs
were heavily influenced by Zoroastrianism, a monotheistic religion originating
in Persian in the middle of the first millennium B.C.. Zoroastrians (who
still exist) attribute all good to the God of Light (Ahura Mazda) and
all evil to the Prince (or Lord) of Darkness (Ahriman). According to Christian
doctrine, in contrast, God is all-powerful, and thus the idea of God having
an adversary is absurd. However, since evil (suffering, injustice, cruelty,
and so on) does appear to exist, some explanation seems necessary. Christians
who attribute evil to some sort of adversary to God, the devil or Satan,
are Manichean. Today, one tends to see strong Manichean tendencies among
some Protestant sects, such as Baptists, while Catholicism considers Manicheanism
heresy. |
|
French novel — French literature in the 19th century was
notorious for dealing with sexual themes. The English, especially, viewed
French literature as having a tendency to immorality. Thus, the speaker’s
possessing a French novel would be the 19th century equivalent of a monk
keeping a pornographic dvd in his room. |
|
Belial — a fallen angel (a devil) in Milton’s Paradise Lost whom Milton associated specifically with lewdness and vice | |
gripe — grip | |
print — an illustration, probably in this case a wood-cut; obviously the illustration in this case is racy or lewd. | |
greengages — a varity of plum, somewhat green in color | |
sieve — basket | |
Hy, Zy, Hine . . . — presumably the beginning of some kind of spell or oath to the devil | |