One point in this monologue may be especially obscure, where reference is made to the city being “dear!” “fowls, wine, at double the rate.” I was one of three in a carriage who were once stopped at a gate in Florence and examined to see whether we carried any “salt,” “oil,” or anything on which there was a tax, which, according to the owner of the villa, “is a horror to think of.” Some Italian cities do not have free trade with the surrounding country; food stuffs are taxed upon “passing the gate,” thus making life in the city more expensive. And here is the reason why this man sadly mourns:
“And so, the villa for me, not the city!
Beggars can scarcely be choosers: but still—ah, the pity, the pity!”
Whatever may be said regarding Browning’s obscurity, however far he may have gone into the most technical knowledge of science in any department of life, however remote his allusions to events or objects or lines of knowledge which are unfamiliar to the world, there is one thing about which he is always definite, possibly more definite than any other writer. In every monologue we can find an indication of the place or situation in which the monologue is located.
Browning has given us one monologue which takes place during a walk, “A Grammarian’s Funeral.” The speaker is one of the band carrying the body of his master from the “common crofts,” and so he is represented as looking up to the top of the hill and talking about the appropriateness of burying the master on the hilltop. Browning’s intimate knowledge of Greek was shown by the phrase “gave us the doctrine of the enclitic De.” The London “Times” criticized this severely when the poem was published, saying that with all respect to Mr. Browning, there was no such enclitic. Browning answered in a note that proved his fine scholarship, and called attention to the fact that this was the point in dispute which the grammarian had tried to settle.
Even the stages of the journey are shown,
“Here’s the town-gate reached: there’s the market-place
Gaping before us.”
In another place he says,
“Caution redoubled,
Step two abreast, the way winds narrowly!”
while all the time he pours out his tribute to his master:
“Oh, if we draw a circle premature
Heedless of far gain,
Greedy for quick returns of profit, sure
Bad is our bargain!...
That low man seeks a little thing to do,
Sees it and does it:
This high man, with a great thing to pursue,
Dies ere he knows it.
That low man goes on adding one to one,
His hundred’s soon hit:
This high man, aiming at a million,
Misses an unit.
That, has the world here—should he need the next,
Let the world mind him!
This, throws himself on God, and unperplexed
Seeking, shall find him.”