Browning, Robert, 1812-1889; Poets, English -- 19th century -- Biography
His good friend and early critic, Mr. Fox, asked him to his house
one evening in November, a few months after the publication of "Paracelsus".
The chief guest of the occasion was Macready, then at the height
of his great reputation. Mr. Fox had paved the way for the young poet,
but the moment he entered he carried with him his best recommendation.
Every one who met Browning in those early years of his buoyant manhood
seems to have been struck by his comeliness and simple grace of manner.
Macready stated that he looked more like a poet than any man he had ever met.
As a young man he appears to have had a certain ivory delicacy of colouring,
what an old friend perhaps somewhat exaggeratedly described to me
as an almost flower-like beauty, which passed ere long
into a less girlish and more robust complexion. He appeared
taller than he was, for he was not above medium height,
partly because of his rare grace of movement, and partly from
a characteristic high poise of the head when listening intently
to music or conversation. Even then he had that expressive wave o' the hand,
which in later years was as full of various meanings
as the `Ecco' of an Italian. A swift alertness pervaded him,
noticeable as much in the rapid change of expression,
in the deepening and illuming colours of his singularly expressive eyes,
and in his sensitive mouth, with the upper lip ever so swift
to curve or droop in response to the most fluctuant emotion,
as in his greyhound-like apprehension, which so often grasped the subject
in its entirety before its propounder himself realised its significance.
A lady, who remembers Browning at that time, has told me that his hair --
then of a brown so dark as to appear black -- was so beautiful
in its heavy sculpturesque waves as to attract frequent notice.
Another, and more subtle, personal charm was his voice,
then with a rare flute-like tone, clear, sweet, and resonant.
Afterwards, though always with precise clarity, it became
merely strong and hearty, a little too loud sometimes,
and not infrequently as that of one simulating keen immediate interest
while the attention was almost wholly detached.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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