June 9

Browning continues the discussion of who to tell what and when on June 9, 1846:

Always remember, my Ba, that the secret is your secret and not mine .. that I keep it while you bid me, but that you may communicate it to whom you please, when you please, without waiting to apprize me: I should, I think, have preferred telling Mrs Jameson from the beginning about the mere visits .. or, I don’t know .. by one such piece of frankness you only expose yourself to fifty new .. whatever they are! For there would be so much the more talk about you,—and either the quick woman’s wit and discernment are to be eluded, or they are not,—foiled or not—and how manage without ..without those particular evasions which seem to degrade most of all?....I believe you might tell all to Mrs Jameson with perfect safety .. but, for her sake, I doubt the propriety .. for it would be to introduce her forthwith to exactly our own annoyances with respect to Mr Kenyon, Chorley &c. Once knowing, she cannot un-know. In any case, I promise my conscience to give her,—and anybody else that may have a right to it,—a full explanation at the earliest safe moment .. may that be at no great distance! My own feeling is for telling Mr Kenyon .. tho’ you would considerably startle me if you answered “well, do!”– But, of the whole world, I seem only to care for his not feeling aggrieved: oh, he will understand!—and can; because he knows the circumstances at your house.

And then a new proposal:

"Come what will, I am sure of you,—“if you live, and are well”—even this last clause I might exclude; it has often been in my thought to tell you .. only, dearest, there is always, when I plan never so dreamily & vaguely, always an understood submission the most absolute to your own desire .. but I fancied, that, in the case of any real obstacle arising so as to necessitate the “postponement,” &c.—I should have stipulated .. in the right yourself have given me .. I should have said—“we will postpone it, if you will marry me now .. merely as to the form .. but so as to enable me, if difficulties should thicken, to be by your bedside at least”: you see, what you want “to relieve” me of, is just what my life should be thrice paid down for and cheaply. How could you ever be so truly mine as so?– Even the poor service does not “part us” before “death”—“till sickness do us part!”

But there will be no sickness and all happiness, I trust in God! Dear, dear Ba, I love you wholly and forever—true as I kiss your rose, and will keep it forever. Bless you."

I think that is a very noble proposal. Don't you? What a great guy. And what will Miss Barrett think of this? I predict a general panic, but sometimes she surprises me. Maybe she will think it is a great idea and tell Browning to get the license immediately. It could happen.

Miss Barrett responds:

Practically however, see how your proposal would work. It could not work at all, unless circumstances were known—and if they were known, at the very moment of their being known you would be saved, dearest, all the trouble of coming up stairs to me, by my being thrown out of the window to you .. upon which, you might certainly pick up the pieces of me & put them into a bag & set off for Nova Zembla. That would be the event of the working of your proposition. Yet remember that I will accede to whatever you shall choose—so think for us both.

This is obviously not a serious evaluation or at the least a hyperbolic evaluation. She would not have been physically thrown out of the window. What might her father have done? He might have kicked her out of the house. He might have not permitted her to leave the house. He could have called in a lawyer and got the marriage annulled. He could have called in a medical man and had her institutionalized. That sounds almost as melodramatic as being thrown out of the window, but things like that did happened. 'Putting her away' would have been difficult given that she would have been married, but remember that Browning had no money to fight with. He may have had some influence, but influence without money is not that impressive. But even so, she was correct in her evaluation that his proposal was wonderfully noble, but not very practical. It is interesting in that she has these flights of panic and then she has very intelligent and practical evaluations of circumstances that our New Cross Knight fails to completely grasp.

Next she returns to the subject of full disclosure:

"For Mrs Jameson, I never should think of telling her ‘all’– I should not, could not, would not!—& the gods forefend that you should think of telling Mr Kenyon, any more. Now, listen. Perfectly I understand your reasons, your scruples .. what are they to be called? But I promise to take the blame of it. I will tell dear Mr Kenyon hereafter that you would have spoken, but that I would not let you—wont that do? wont it stop the pricking of the conscience? Because, you see, I know Mr Kenyon, .. & I know perfectly that either he would be unhappy himself, or he would make us so. He never could bear the sense of responsibility. Then, as he told me today, & as long ago I knew, .. he is “irresolute”, timid in deciding. Then he shrinks before the dæmon of the World—and “what may be said” is louder to him than thunder. And then again, & worst of all, he sees afar off casualty within casualty, & a marriage without lawyers, would be an abomination in his sight. Moreover, to discover ourselves to him, & not submit to his counsels, would be a real offence .. would it not? As it is, it may seem natural & excusable that we two of ourselves should poetically rush into a foolishness—but if we heard counsel, & rejected it!! Do you see? …

That is some splendid writing. I love that paragraph. I love the use of the word 'forefend', it makes me think of my mother who loved to dramatically shout "heaven forefend!" to mock my teenage scruples. I love the "Now, listen." I love the confidence of this paragraph. She knows this information, she is not scrambling to find the words for something she can't quite put her finger on. She knows Mr. Kenyon and she can explain how he will react. To her, this is not speculation, this is fact. If I were Browning I would take her advise here. And I assume that he did. My only quibble is with her ejaculation that Mrs. Jameson should not be told 'all'. She could have been told that Browning had called at least. It might even save the embarrassment of a hallway meeting one rainy afternoon. But, hey, this isn't my romance, I don't get a say. I just get to read and comment.

She ends her letter with this amusing note about one of her demanding fans, Georgiana Bennet:

"Oh! I had a letter from my particular Bennet this morning, .. & my Georgiana desires me, instantly to say why I presumed not to write to her before. I am commanded out of all further delays. ‘Did I receive her letter,’ she wonders!!!! Georgiana is imperative."

I am going to steal that line. I know several imperative people!

June 8

Miss Barrett starts her letter of June 8, 1846 telling Browning how handsome he is but is suddenly interrupted:

"....Observe how the sentence breaks off! While I was writing it, came a “tapping, tapping at the chamber door,” as sings my dedicator Edgar Poe. Flush barked vociferously; I threw down the pen & shut up the writing case, .. & lo, Mrs Jameson!– I suppose she did not guess that I was writing to you. She brought me the engravings of Xanthian marbles, & also her new essays .. & was very kind as usual, & proposed to come some day next week with a carriage to take me out––& all this time, how we treat her!– Will she not have a right to complain of being denied the degree of confidence we gave (.. Mr Kenyon gave for me ..) to Miss Bayley? Will she not think hereafter “There was no need of their deceiving me.”? And yet I doubt how to retreat now. Could I possibly say to her the next time she speaks of you .. or could I not?—it would set her on suspecting, perhaps. She talked a little today of Italy, & plainly asked me what thoughts I had of it,—to which I could answer truthfully, ‘No thoughts, but dreams’. Then she insisted, “But whenever you have thoughts, you will let me know them?– You will not be in Italy when I am there, without my knowing it?– And where will you go—? to Pisa?—to Sienna? to Naples?” And she advised .. “Dont go where the English are, in any case”. And encouraged like an oracle, .. “Remember that where there’s a will there’s a way”—knowing no more what she spoke, than a Pythian on the serpent’s skin."

Mrs. Jameson is on Browning's mind as well:

"Mrs Jameson told me she called the other day on Miss Barrett and was informed that lady was “walking before her door”—for I went last night, and deserved to be amused, perhaps, for the effort, .. and so I was: I never liked our friend as I now like her,—I more than like the goodnature and good feeling and versatility of ready intelligence and quick general sympathy– She is to see you to-day. She told this to a Miss Kindersley who had been reading the Drama of Exile to her complete delight—but in listening silently;—and after, when Mrs J. obligingly turned and said “How I should like to introduce you to Miss Barrett .. did you ever see her?” .. to which I answered in the old way, “that nobody, as she knew, saw you”; at all these times did not I feel the “mask” you speak of! I am, fortunately, out of the way of enquirers .. but if the thing were of constant occurrence, it would be intolerable. Shall it indeed end soon? May I count by months, by weeks? It is not safe—beginning to write on this subject—I can do nothing moreover."

Hmm...these two are pretty cool liars. At least they felt uncomfortable about it. And Browning uses the guilt it produces to prod Miss Barrett into lessening the time before truth telling can begin. Sly.

June 7

The letter of interest today, June 7, 1861 is one of the last if not the last letter written by Mrs. Browning before her death on June 29, 1861. She is writing to Browning's sister in an attempt to explain why they were not coming to France to visit:

"I can't let Robert's disagreeable letter go alone, dearest Sarianna, though my word will be as heavy as a stone at the bottom of it. I am deeply sorry you should have had the vain hope of seeing Robert and Pen. As for me, I know my place; I am only good for a drag chain. But, dear, don't fancy it has been the fault of my will. In fact, I said almost too much at Rome to Robert, till he fancied I had set my selfwill on tossing myself up as a halfpenny, and coming down on the wrong side. Now, in fact, it was not at all (nearly) for Arabel that I wished to go, only I did really wish and do my best to go. He, on the other hand, before we left Rome, had made up his mind (helped by a stray physician of mine, whom he met in the street) that it would be a great risk to carry me north. He (Robert) always a little exaggerates the difficulties of travelling, and there's no denying that I have less strength than is usual to me even at the present time. I touched the line of vexing him, with my resistance to the decision, but he is so convinced that repose is necessary for me, and that the lions in the path will be all asleep by this time next year, that I yielded. Certainly he has a right to command me away from giving him unnecessary anxieties. What does vex me is that the dearest nonno should not see his Peni this year, and that you, dear, should be disappointed, on my account again. That's hard on us all. We came home into a cloud here. I can scarcely command voice or hand to name Cavour. That great soul, which meditated and made Italy, has gone to the Diviner country. If tears or blood could have saved him to us, he should have had mine. I feel yet as if I could scarcely comprehend the greatness of the vacancy. A hundred Garibaldis for such a man. There is a hope that certain solutions had been prepared between him and the Emperor, and that events will slide into their grooves. May God save Italy! Dear M. Milsand had pleased me so by his appreciation, but there are great difficulties. The French press, tell him, has, on the whole, done great service, except that part of it under the influence of the ultramontane and dynastic opposition parties. And as to exaggerated statements, it is hard, even here, to get at the truth (with regard to the state of the south), and many Italian liberals have had hours of anxiety and even of despondency. English friends of ours, very candid and liberal, have gone to Naples full of hope, and returned hoping nothing—yet they are wrong, unless this bitter loss makes them right—

Your loving Ba—

Robert tears me away—

It is an echo of her refrain in the courtship letters wherein she feared that her health would impede Browning's progress in life. This letter also touches a bit on her not so comfortable relationship with Sarianna Browning. Miss Barrett, as we saw in 1846, was very frightened to meet Browning's sister because she felt that Miss Browning would not see what Browning saw in her. They never appeared to have a close relationship over the 15 years of the marriage, not that sisters-in-law are required to and there is certainly no evidence that they had a contentious relationship. EBB had poor health and there wasn't much she could do about it; it ruined other people's plans and she knew it.

She ends her letter discussing her obsession of the day, French and Italian politics. She yearned for the unification of Italy but it came too late for her to write a triumphal poem celebrating the occasion. Happily she did not live to be disappointed in Napoleon Trois in whom she had too much faith. There are those who say she was overcome by the death of Cavour and this emotional strain lead to her death. There is a lesson for here for us all: put not your faith politicians: they will always disappoint.

But let us lighten this melancholy letter with a piece of joyful happiness from Miss Barrett on June 7, 1846:

"When you were gone yesterday, & I had had my coffee & put on my bonnet, I went, with the intention of walking out, as far as the drawingroom, & there, failed: not even with your recommendation in my ears, beloved, could I get any further. Notwithstanding all my flatteries (meaning the flatteries of me!) I was not at best & strongest, yesterday, nor am even today, though it is nothing to mind or to mention—only I think I shall not try to walk out in this heat even today, & yesterday it seemed impossible. So I came back & lay on my own sofa, & presently began to read ‘Le Comte de Monte Cristo,’ the new book by Dumas, (observe how I waste my time—while you learn how not to fortify cities, out of Machiavelli!—) & really he amuses me with his Monte Cristo .. six volumes I am glad to see—he is the male Scheherazade certainly. Now that the hero is safe in a dungeon (of the Chateau d’If) it will be delightful to see how he will get out—somebody knocks at the wall already. Only the narrative is not always very clear to me, inasmuch as, when I read, I unconsciously interleave it with such thoughts of you as make very curious cross readings .. 'j’avais cru remarquer quelques infidelités' ['I had thought out a few infidelities.'] .. he really seems to love me—'l’homme n’est jamais qu’un homme' ['A man is never more than a man.'] .. never was any man like him—'ses traits étaient bouleversés' ['His features were distorted'] .. the calmest eyes I ever saw .. So, Dumas or Machiavelli, it is of the less consequence what I read, I suppose, while I apply so undestractedly..."

Who among us has not read a book in this fashion? What a charming description of distraction.

June 4

It is June 4, 1846 and Browning is still trying to make it plain to Miss Barrett that any postponement of their plans would not be his preference:

“Vex me,” or “teaze me,” my own Ba, you cannot: I look on it indeed, after a moment, as only the natural effect of your strange disbelief in yourself, and ignorance of our true relation one to the other by every right and reason....Let me say humbly, I should prefer to go with you to Italy or any place where we can live alone for some little time, till you can know me, be as sure of me as of yourself– Nor am I so selfish, I hope, as that (because my uttermost pride & privilege and glory above all glories would be to live in your sick-room and serve you,)—as that, on that account, I would not rather see you in a condition to need none of my service .. the next thing to serving you, is to be .. what shall I say? .. served by you .. loved by you, made happy by you .. it is the being an angel, tho’ there might be archangels–

And if now you do not understand,—well, I kneel to you, my only Ba, and pray you to give yourself to me in deed as in word, the body as the heart and mind,—and now!—at any time .. you know what I cannot say, I cannot, I think,—if I know myself—love you more than I do .. but I shall always love you thus—and thus, in any case, happen what God may ordain–"

Well, it's pretty clear to me. I mean, the guy is on his knees here. So what further torture does Miss Barrett have for Browning today?

"You are too perfect, too overcomingly good & tender—dearest you are, & I have no words with which to answer you. There is little wonder indeed that I, being used so long to the dark, should stumble & mistake, & see men like trees walking....To say that I am not worthy, all at once grows too little to say. No one could be worthy of such words from you. You are best, best! How much more do you want me to owe to you, when I begin by owing to you all things, .. the only happiness of my life?

As to Italy, I thought of it first, so I am in no danger of thinking that you engage me as female courier & companion .. the feminine of what Mr Bezzi wants to be, Miss Bayley told me today. So if it is the same thing to you, we will put off Nova Zembla a little—— But how is it possible to jest, with this letter close by?– Dearest of all, believe that I am grateful to you as I ought to be .. penetrated .. touched to the bottom of my heart with the sense of what you have been to me & are,—dearest beloved!....

May God bless you dear dearest!– Shall I ever be better, I wonder, than the torment of your life?– It is I who want to be ‘justified’, & not you my beloved,—except as to your good sense for having made such a choice."

He has her hooked but she is keeping a tight line so he must be careful not to pull too hard and snap it. He must keep it taut, slowly tire her out, wait for the right opportunity and pull her in. This is going to take some time and patience, but he is going get her on his gaff.

June 3

June 3, 1846 Browning responds to Miss Barrett's suggestion that he may wish to postpone their departure until 1847:

"I will tell you, dearest: your good is my good, and your will mine; if you were convinced that good would be promoted by our remaining as we are for twenty years instead of one, I should endeavour to submit in the end .. after the natural attempts to find out and remove the imagined obstacle: if,—as you seem to do here,—you turn and ask about my good,—yours being supposed to lie uninfluenced by what I answer .. then, here is my truth on that subject, in that view,—my good for myself: Every day that passes before that day is one the more of hardly endurable anxiety and irritation, to say the least; and the thought of another year’s intervention of hope deferred—altogether intolerable!....

But to the end, the very end .. I am yours: God knows I would not do you harm for worlds—worlds! I may easily mistake what is harm or not– I will ask your leave to speak,—at your foot, my Ba: I would not have dared to take the blessing of kissing your hand, much less your lip .. but that it seemed as if I was leading you into a mistake,—as did happen—and that you might fancy I only felt a dreamy, abstract passion for a phantom of my own creating out of your books and letters, and which only took your name .. That once understood, the rest you shall give me. In every event, I am your own."

A fairly blunt statement for Browning, although by modern sensibilities it is not very clear. He is trying to explain to his lady love that this is more than an abstract proposition to him. He loves more than just her genius, he wants her physically as well. If this were just an abstract infatuation he might be content to visit her sick room for the next 20 years, but he wants more of her than that. I think he is trying to get her to understand something that has perhaps never occurred to her, that he has a physical longing for her.

It isn't until the last paragraph that he addresses her reluctance to meet his sister, probably because this is the least of his concerns, he is more interested in making him understand his needs:

"I did understand the question about my sister. I mean, that you felt somewhat so, incredible as it seems—only I believe all you say, all: to the letter, the iota .. think of that, whenever I might ask and do not—or speak, and am silent .. but I am getting back to the question discussed above, which I ought not to do—understand me, dearest dearest! See me, open the eyes, the dear eyes, and see the love of your RB"

The sad pleading of a love struck man trying to woo a sheltered Victorian lady. So, of course, Miss Browning sends two letters in response:

"Then let it be as we meant it should be. And do you forgive me, my own, if I have teazed you .. vexed you– Do I not always tell you that you are too good for me?

Yet the last of my intentions was, this time, to doubt of your attachment for me. Believe that. I will write tonight more fully—but never can be more than at this moment"

Her eyes are still not open, I don't think that he questioned her 'attachment' to him, he questioned her understanding of his attachment. She doesn't seem to broaden her scope of understanding him in the second letter either, although she does bring the question back down to earth:

"....So I thought I would ask. For after all, this is rather a serious matter we are upon, & if you think that you are not to have your share of responsibility .. that you are not to consider & arrange & decide, & perform your own part, .. you are as much mistaken as ever I was– ‘Judge what I say’....I did not ask you if you desired a delay, but if you saw a reason for it. In the meantime I was absolutely yours, I remembered thoroughly, .. & the question went simply to enquire what you thought it best to do with your own.

For me I agree with your view– I never once thought of proposing a delay on my own account– We are standing on hot scythes, & because we do not burn in the feet, by a miracle, we have no right to count on the miracle’s prolongation. Then nothing is to be gained—& everything may be lost—& the sense of mask-wearing for another year, would be suffocating– This for me. And for yourself, I shall not be much younger or better otherwise, I suppose, next year. I make no motion, then, for a delay, further than we have talked of, .. to the summer’s end."

Is there, perhaps, a glimmer of understanding there at the end? But whether she understands or not, she does love the boy:

"Dearest, if I vexed you, teazed you, by that question which proved unnecessary .. forgive me! Had you uncomfortable thoughts in the gardens today? Perhaps! And I could not smooth them away, though I drew as near as I dared .. though I was in a carriage at seven oclock, running a mystical circle round your tents & music. Did you feel me, any more than if I were a “quick spider”, I wonder!....Ah forgive me. After all, .. listen .. I love you with the fulness of my nature– Nothing of all this unspeakable goodness & tenderness is lost on me .. I catch on my face & hands every drop of all this dew....So now .. you are not teazed?—we are at one again, & may talk of outside things again?–"

See, now, letters like this make you understand why he fought so hard for her.

June 2

For all my blog readers who are longing to experience some nervous anxiety that is not their own, today is your day. Our Miss Barrett has been thrown into a nervous state by the proposition that she meet Browning's sister and feels compelled to explain to Browning why she cannot see her:

"You understand, dearest beloved, all I could mean about your sister’s coming here. Both I was afraid of not being liked enough .. which was one reason, & none the less reasonable because of your being ‘infatuated’ .. (oh, that is precisely the word to use, & indeed I never falter to myself in the applying of it!)—and I felt it to be impossible for me to receive so near a relative of yours, your own only sister, as I should another & a stranger. There would be the need in me of being affectionate to your sister! how could I not? & yet, how could I? Everything is at once too near & too far—it is enough to make me tremble to think of it—it did, when Mr Kenyon made his proposition. I would rather, ten times over, receive Queen Victoria & all her court––do you understand? can you misunderstand? can you pretend to fancy, as you talked yesterday, that the reluctance came from my having ‘too many visitors,’ or from any of those common causes. Why, she is your sister—& that was the cause of the reluctance. You will not dare to turn it into a wrong against yourself."

I must confess, dear blogoleers, that I feel a great affinity with Miss Barrett. I understand her shyness. But what gives me pause here is her reasoning. Her normally well thought out argumentation escapes her here. She believes that because Browning is infatuated with her that he has over sold her to his sister; that makes sense. However, her exclamation! that she would have to be affectionate to his sister does not seem rational. Why couldn't she just be cordial and if they got on that would be wonderful and if they didn't they could just continue to be cordial. If Browning's sister did not like Miss Barrett she probably wouldn't come back. There is the possibility that his sister could attempt to talk Browning out of the infatuation, but that doesn't seem to be part of Miss Barrett's calculation. But what else is going on in Miss Barrett's brain today?

"Now I am going to ask you a question, dearest of mine, & you will consider it carefully & examine your own wishes in respect to it, before I have any answer. In fact it is not necessary to treat of the subject of it at all at this moment—we have a great deal of time before us. Still, I want to know whether, upon reflection, you see it to be wiser & better for me to go to Italy with Miss Bayley, or with any other person who may be willing to take me, (supposing I should find such a plan possible) & that you should follow with Mr Chorley or alone, .. leaving other thoughts for another year. Or if I find this scheme as far as I am concerned, impossible, shall we gain anything, do you think, on any side of the question that you can see, by remaining quietly as we are, you at New Cross, & I here, until next year’s summer or autumn? Shall we be wiser, more prudent, for any reason, or in any degree, by such a delay—?

It is the question I ask you—it is no proposal of mine, understand—nor shall I tell you my own impression about it– I have told you that I would do as you should decide, & I will do that & no other. Only on that very account it is the more necessary that you should decide well, & according to the best lights of your own judgement & reason–"

Okay, now I think I understand the reasoning here. She is trying to give him a path out. In part one of the letter she tells him that she is too nervous to meet his sister. She realizes that this might be a problem for  him (I have to think that he could have talked her into it) and so gives him a way of saying: 'Well, she is a mess. I should try to find another genius poet and drop her because, for pity's sake, she is scared of my sister.'

She writes again later in the day, more chatty.  She seems to have gotten over her nervous mood but does mention her inquiry:

"You will not mistake what I said to you this morning my own beloved—you will not?– My promise to you was to place the decision in your hands—& my desire is simply that you should decide according to your judgement & understanding .. I do not say, your affections, this time. Now it has struck me that you have a sort of instinct .. But no—I shall not write on that subject tonight..."

She ends her evening letter with a teazing taunt and then thinks better of it:

"But will you explain to me some day why you are sorry for Italy having been mentioned between us, & why you would rather prefer Nova Zembla? So as to kill me the faster, is it?

Your Ælian says that the oldest painters used to write under a tree, when they painted one, ‘This is a tree’. So I must do, I suddenly remember, under my jests .. I being, it would appear, as bad an artist in jesting, as they were in painting. Therefore .. see the last line of the last paragraph .. ‘This is a jest.’"

Another test of Browning's nerve. How will he respond to her gentle inquiry, her feeler into his thoughts?

May 30

May 30, 1846 the play continues with Miss Barrett teazing Browning about his humility:

I have your letter .. you who cannot write!– The contrariety is a part of the ‘miracle’. After all it seems to me that you can write for yourself pretty well—rather too well I used to think from the beginning. But if you persist in the proposition about my doing it for you, leaving room for your signature … shall it be this way?–

Show me how to get rid of you.

RB

Now is’nt it I who am .. not ‘balancing my jewel’ .. over the gulph .. but actually tossing it up in the air out of sheer levity of joyousness?– Only it is not perhaps such dangerous play as it looks: there may be a little string perhaps, tying it to my finger. Which, if it is not imprudence in act, is impudence in fact, you see!–

Dearest, I committed a felony for your sake today—so never doubt that I love you. We went to the Botanical Gardens, where it is unlawful to gather flowers, & I was determined to gather this for you, & the gardeners were here & there .. they seemed everywhere .. but I stooped down & gathered it– Is it felony, or burglary on green leaves—or what is the name of the crime?—would the people give me up to the police I wonder? Transie de peur [paralysed with fear], I was, .. listening to Arabel’s declaration that all gathering of flowers in those gardens is highly improper,—and I made her finish her discourse, standing between me & the gardeners .. to prove that I was the better for it....."

She stole a pansy for her boy. She seems to be a natural thief using the body of an innocent to block her crime. Compare with the letter to Mr. Boyd from 1840 when she fainted when moved from bed to sofa. What a difference Browning has made to her, she is now committing horticultural felonies!

"Can you love me so? do you?—will you always?– And is any of that love ‘lost’, do you think, .. as the saying is? Indeed it is not. I put golden basins all round (the reverse shape of lachrymatories) to catch every drop as it falls, .. so that when we two shall meet together in the new world, I may look in your face (as I cannot at this moment) & say ‘None of the love was lost, though all of it was undeserved’."

No, she still can't quite believe it. What does Browning have to say?

"Oh, yes, do 'show me how to get rid of you', my best Ba,—for so I shall have the virtuous delight of deciding to keep you, instead of being wholly kept by you; it is all out of my head, now, how I used to live when I was my own; and if you can, by one more witchery, give me back that feeling for once .. Ba, I have no heart to write more nonsense, when I can take your dearest self into my arms; yet I shall never quite lie quiet and happy, I do think .. I shall be always wishing you would be angry, and cruel, and unjust, for a moment,—for my love overflows the bounds, needs to prove itself—all which is foolish, I know....I mean, that after the blow struck, the natural vibration must follow and continue its proper period—and that my love for what I have received from you already must last to my life’s end—cannot end sooner! 'Shall I continue to love you!' "

All this love stuff is very nice, but it does get rather cloying. I, like Browning, am looking forward to some drama or at least some good natured teazing.