Selections from the Poems and Plays of Robert BrowningBrowning, Robert
General
Selections from the Poems and Plays of Robert Browning
Browning, Robert
Drama; English poetry; Poetry -- Collections
_Ottima._ To me--not of me! Ungrateful, perjured cheat!
A coward, too: but ingrate's worse than all!
Beggar--my slave--a fawning, cringing lie!
Leave me! Betray me! I can see your drift! 245
A lie that walks and eats and drinks!
_Sebald._ My God!
Those morbid, olive, faultless shoulder-blades--
I should have known there was no blood beneath!
_Ottima._ You hate me then? You hate me then?
_Sebald._ To think
She would succeed in her absurd attempt, 250
And fascinate by sinning, show herself
Superior--guilt from its excess superior
To innocence! That little peasant's voice
Has righted all again. Though I be lost,
I know which is the better, never fear, 255
Of vice or virtue, purity or lust,
Nature or trick! I see what I have done,
Entirely now! Oh, I am proud to feel
Such torments--let the world take credit thence--
I, having done my deed, pay too its price! 260
I hate, hate--curse you! God's in his heaven!
_Ottima._ --Me!
Me! no, no, Sebald, not yourself--kill me!
Mine is the whole crime. Do but kill me--then
Yourself--then--presently--first hear me speak
I always meant to kill myself--wait, you! 265
Lean on my breast--not as a breast; don't love me
The more because you lean on me, my own
Heart's Sebald! There, there, both deaths presently!
_Sebald._ My brain is drowned now--quite drowned: all I feel
Is ... is, at swift-recurring intervals, 270
A hurry-down within me, as of waters
Loosened to smother up some ghastly pit:
There they go--whirls from a black, fiery sea!
_Ottima._ Not me--to him, O God, be merciful!
_Talk by the way, while_ PIPPA _is passing from the hillside to Orcana.
Foreign Students of painting and sculpture, from Venice, assembled
opposite the house of_ JULES, _a young French statuary, at Possagno_.
_1st Student._ Attention! My own post is beneath this
window, but the pomegranate clump yonder will hide three
or four of you with a little squeezing, and Schramm and
his pipe must lie flat in the balcony. Four, five--who's a
defaulter? We want everybody, for Jules must not be 5
suffered to hurt his bride when the jest's found out.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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