Dramatic Romances | Page 2

one but would
repay prolonged attention, due no less to the romantic interest of the
stories, the marvellous penetration into human motives, the grasp of
historical atmospheres, than to the originality and perfection of their
artistry.
A word must be said of "The Flight of the Duchess" and "Childe
Roland to the Dark Tower Came," both poems which have been
productive of many commentaries, and both holding their own amid the
bray [sic] of critics as unique and beautiful specimens of poetic art.
Certainly no two poems could be chosen to show wider diversity in the
poet's genius than these.
The story told by the huntsman in "The Flight of the Duchess" is
interesting enough simply as a story, but the telling of it is inimitable.
One can see before him the devoted, kindly man, somewhat clumsy of
speech, as indicated by the rough rhymes, and
characteristically
drawing his illustrations from the calling he follows. Keen in his
critical observation of the Duke and other members of the household,
he, nevertheless, has a tender appreciation of the difficulties of the
young Duchess in this unloving artificial environment.
When the Gypsy Queen sings her song through his memory of it, the
rhymes and rhythm take on a befitting harmoniousness and smoothness
contrasting finely with the remainder of the poem.
By means of this song, moreover, the horizon is enlarged beyond the
immediate ken of the huntsman. The race-instinct, which has so strong
a hold upon the Gypsies, is exalted into a wondrous sort of love which
carries everything before it. This loving reality is also set over against
the unloving artificiality of the first part of the poem. The temptation is
too strong for the love-starved little Duchess, and even the huntsman
and Jacinth come under her hypnotic spell.

Very different in effect is "Childe Roland to the Dark Tower Came."
The one, rich in this lay of human emotion, couched in the simple
language of reality; the other, a symbolic picture of the struggle and
aspiration of the soul. Interpreters have tried to pin this latter poem
down to the limits of an allegory, and find a specific meaning for every
phrase and picture, but it has too much the quality of the modern
symbolistic writing to admit of any treatment so prosaic. In this respect
it resembles music. Each mind will draw from it an interpretation suited
to its own attitude and experiences. Reduced to the simplest possible
lines of interpretation, it symbolizes the inevitable fate which drives a
truth-seeking soul to see the falsity of ideals once thought absolute, yet
in the face of the ruin of those ideals courage toward the continuance of
aspiration is never for a moment lost.
As a bit of art, it is strikingly imaginative, and suggests the
picture-quality of the tapestried horse, which Browning himself says
was the chief inspiration of the poem. It is a fine example of the way in
which the "strange and winged" fancy of the poet may take its flight
from so simple an object as this tapestried horse, evidently a sorry beast
too, in its needled presentment, or the poetic impulse would not have
expressed itself in the vindictive, "I never saw a horse [sic] I hated so."]
INCIDENT OF THE FRENCH CAMP
I
You know, we French stormed Ratisbon:
A mile or so away,
On a little mound, Napoleon
Stood on our storming-day;
With neck out-thrust, you fancy how,
Legs wide, arms locked behind,
As if to balance the prone brow
Oppressive with its mind.
II

Just as perhaps he mused, "My plans
That soar, to earth may fall, 10 Let once my army-leader Lannes
Waver at yonder wall."
0ut 'twixt the battery-smokes there flew
A rider, bound on bound
Full-galloping; nor bridle drew
Until he reached the mound.
III
Then off there flung in smiling joy,
And held himself erect
By just his horse's mane, a boy:
You hardly could suspect 20 (So tight he kept his lips compressed
Scarce any blood came through)
You looked twice ere you saw his
breast
Was all but shot in two.
IV
"Well," cried he, "Emperor, by God's grace
"We've got you Ratisbon!
"The Marshal's in the market-place,
And you'll be there anon
To see your flag-bird flap his vans
Where I, to heart's desire, 30 Perched him--" The chief's eye flashed;
his plans
Soared up again like fire.
V
The chief's eye flashed, but presently

Softened itself, as sheathes
A film the mother-eagle's-eye
When her bruised eaglet breathes,
"You're wounded!" "Nay," the
soldier's pride
Touched to the quick, he said:
"I'm killed, Sire!" And his chief
beside,
Smiling the boy fell dead. 40
NOTES:
"Incident of the French Camp." A story of modest heroism.

The incident related is said by Mrs. Orr to be a true one
of the siege
of Ratisbon by Napoleon in 1809--except
that the real hero was a
man.
I. Ratisbon: (German