Browning's Heroines

DVENTURE" AND "ARI

the sense of the unfolding rose-"enmisted by the scent it makes," in a phrase of her creator's which, though in the actual context it does not refer to her, yet exquisitely conveys her influence on these two works. "Rosy Balaustion": she is that, as well as "superb, statuesque," in the admir

eerless hardly," musing on the tidings, when suddenly there come torch-light and knocking at the door, and cries and laughter: "Open, open, Bacchos[94:1] bids!"-and, heralded

pped: I rose an

time they meet, he breaks

at, the Rhodian

elf upsoari

hey named you . .

orned about w

icitous, rose

unguent: some

on'

guesses two or three at random, seizing th

r the mouth spl

, for the co

bion, for the

ate-Bloom, and he exclaims in ecstasy, "Thanks, Rhodes!"-for her fellow-countrymen had found this name

dour, it is greatly this that makes Balaustion queen-the lovely eager sweet

us hear: let us feign ourselves members of the little band of friends, all girls, with their charm

angest, saddest

l, heard in K

ved my life b

ou the ad

th all his army, to the Sicilians. But the assurances of safety which he had received were quickly proved false. He was no sooner in the hands of the enemy than he was shamefully put to death with his naval ally, Demosthenes; and his troops were sent to the quarries, where the plague and the hard labour lessened their

. .

thens off for

al to the li

rld worth calli

*

ll of us tha

low

little band, "and found a shi

westward, soon

ship with the v

r heart's tr

aves. The inhabitants refused them admission, for they had heard, as the ship came into harbour, Balaustion singing "that song of ours which saved at Salamis." She had sprung upon the altar by the mast,

rd all Athens i

oatful of Ath

Syracuse, "with memories of Salamis

they were just about to turn away and face the pir

. '

wait we did, y

was veritab

the mouth of

how about

w any of his

ght up in his worship, though she knew and loved the other great Greek poets also; and already it was known to our voyagers that the captives in the quarries had found that those who could "teac

acred Anchor! H

rangers, greet

*

w in Thrace, the

alling thick i

*

ugh she has s

her Wild-Pome

ce, where'er th

*

food, drink, od

d by singing a strophe. But she could do be

, saddest, swee

est

t Athens, and had learnt by heart "the perfect piece." Now, quick and subtle for all her enthusiasm, she remembers to t

m you house i'

ple wide Greec

pliant to yo

put me on hi

his achievem

n a passage which rings

eks are Greeks, an

s power-they

ous laughter w

les for the

rbour! Row, and

ringing in

which was taken up by the crowd around the harbour-quays, came rushing out to meet them

two days more

sent us on

ords and gr

oet countryman"-sent her a crown of wild-pomegranate-flower; and the third thing . . . Petalé, Phullis, Charopé, Chrusion, hear of this also-of the youth who, all the three days that she spoke the play, was found in the gazing, listening audience; and who, when the

marry. O

*

ning marks of gaiety, courage, trust, and with how many others also: those of high-heartedness, deep-heartedness, the true patriotism that cherishes most closely the soul of its country; and then generosity, pride, ardour-all enhanced by woman's more peculiar gifts of gentleness, modesty, tenderness, insight, gravity . . . for Balaustion is like many women in having, for all her gaiety, more sense of happiness than sense of humour. It often comes to me as debatable if this be

e her with the little band of friends about her, as in the exquis

O that

the earlier[101:

ur now, with eac

the streamlet

galingale a

*

-vines, by the

eion; till the

s steal on the

ard flock i' the

nd perfectly by him conceived, that not a word of the play but might have been Balaustion's own. This surely is a triumph of art-to imagine such a speaker for such a piece, and to blend them both so utterly that the supreme Greek dramatist and this g

o much the apotheosis of mere physical power. But read of him in the Alkestis of Euripides, and you shall feel him indeed divine-"this grand benevolence."

piece" to her girl-friends, a

I see h

anyone migh

, new A

tude for the great gift of poetry

Ah, tha

oets, the o

, or will be,

ft that bounds

nd the taking:

soul o' the tak

only was a

od-like in his

re the poet'

good, new beau

So w

k this poem, qu

t and soul-yet

make a poem?

what shape the

stion, Feminist, portra

owning's Alkestis, will not let

at true word

wish is unwis

a vision, of the purp

hat, throughout

mingled and mad

ve one force a

g. Since death

t I depart an

me as spirit

perish, be per

pirit that inf

hile, a ver

rop into the

ber, flesh an

orld, one body,

that abom

th without a q

ly, no Alk

o and of the woman, in Balaust

that the reality of their joint exi

! thou sound

w the deepest,

t makes evil

ttest to me

etting die, n

ife that lived

ce ere thou d

*

whole soul ent

look back, and

rejected as a deceiver: "This is not to die," says the Queen of Hades, for h

n one were fo

not be hims

*

the embrace r

pened, still be

estis was a

abbles-the "Sex-War"-

s married to her Euthukles, and they are once more speeding across

uthukles shall write it down for her, and they will go back to the night they heard Euripides was dead: "One year ago, Athenai still herself." Together she and Euthukles had mused, together glorified their poet. Euthukles had met the audience flocking homeward from the theatre, where Aristophanes had that nig

nce. It had so appalled her, "that bestiality so beyond all brute-beast imagining," that she would never see again a play by him who in the crowned achievement of thi

death, her wrath h

thoroughly deat

ng now, done our

t the news. He had heard them cry: "Honour him!" and "A statue in the theatre!" and

ved to sympathy wi

ould not be the

our hearts he s

is mere mo

fade, mix wit

, falling, fre

etter way to hail his sou

two, its own

from which flo

see triumph

glorified A

t arrival in Athens, she had gone to see him, "held the sacred hand of him, and laid it to my lips"; she had told him "how Alkestis helped," and he, on bidding her farewell, had

rch-light and the knocking at their door, and Aristophanes, fresh from his triu

, but he would not blench. The others blenched-no word could they utter, n

Balaustion

pprobation a

incoherently, and at length she turned in

, I am tole

nd merriment had reigned at the

ething hap

strangel

is face; and now (recalling, on the way to Rhodes, that hour to Euthukles), she likens the change which she then saw in it to th

e overshadow,

mirth and mock

e only such a

f the revel

ce shed silen

a new man f

ee myself? Your fixed regard can strip me of my 'accidents,'

' searching; und

male child ma

speak bold,

already that "what she had disbelieved mo

mind here, mi

f undispu

's brood, tho

grasped the

he flushed cheek, great imperious fiery eyes, wide n

glory, of su

ch domineeri

and majes

his that Aristophanes, keen of sight as she, had confidently addressed himself w

welcome to this

Gen

feat means victory for the better thing. Thus, as Balaustion speaks, her ardour grows with every word. He is greater than

light, I hail l

the murk tha

ertes, never s

b's ass

of attitude: the seeing of him is enough to draw from her this recantat

against those who in any way condemn it. Euripides had been one of these, and Balaustion now stands for him. . . . In the long run, it is the defence of "realism" against "idealism," and, as such, involves a whole phi

nderstand," he says again and again. At length he comes, in his narration, to the end of their feast that night, and tells how, rising from

rosy with Eur

and with those

s must strike c

tom-upwards, sho

have follo

ledged my geni

see you, I am

, he declares that if she will give him the Herakles tablets (which he has discerned, lying with the other

s, and he has entered it, "fresh from his worst infamy"-yet she has withheld

uffer that I

lt-the splendi

ron malice, th

this, if

hand ignobly c

reme ca

ll int

me! Silk breaks l

ult's punishment." That is why he, Aristophanes, has always attacked the living; he knew how they would hide their heads, once dead! Euripides had chosen the other way; "men pelted him, but got no pellet back"; and it was not

that both men had, at bottom, the same ideals; they both extended the limitations of art, both were desirous from their hearts that truth should triumph-yet Aristophanes, thus desiring, p

pities Ari

too far-she has s

eek-bone, each blac

exceeds ou

m, if he do not think a frown more fitting for such ignorance. But strangers are privileged: Aristophanes will condone. They want to impose their squeamishness on sturdy health: that is at the bottom of it all. Their Euripides had cried

roughly how yo

h stops passing

*

him-and at last, drawing to an end, declares that after all the ground of difference between him and her is slight. In so far as it does exist, however, he claims to h

ustion! Use the

t all, to "let the whole r

different methods from those which women most admire, and so far and because she is a foreigner, as he reminds her, she may be mistaken in her blame of him. Yet foreigners, strangers, will in the ultimate issue be the judges of this matter, and shall they find Aristophanes any more impeccable than she does?

e heart withi

dost tho

ngs: by what method has Aristophanes discredited it? By the obscene allurements of the Lysistrata! . . . Thus she takes him through his works, and finally declares that only in "more audaciously lyi

other poet-whe

ld than e'er I

of good and beauty on its way? Assuredly. . . . And so she cries at the last: "Your nature too is kingly"; and this is for her the sole source

other king s

rand investi

knee beside

s one

Both have done ho

poet more directly, or Aristophanes will do no homage. At once she answers that she will, that she has the bes

I read the pe

t of the Chorus for th

of all our f

ost for e

that strophe, there falls a long sil

"the Violet-Crowned"; while Euripides had challenged failure, and had failed. Euripides, he cries, remembering an instance, has been like Thamyris of Thrace, who was blinded by the Muses for daring to conten

hamyris, but Aristophanes. . . . They shall both be pleased with his next play; it shall be serious, "no word more of the old f

couple! Next ye

Rhodes from Athens. This year has seen the death of Sophocles; and the greates

glory, there sho

elf was "duly dragged through the mire," and Euripides, afte

hanes obtain

ai felt she

er 'best friend,'

ere, "Down with the Pir?us! Peace needs no bulwarks." At first the stupefied Athenians had been ready to obey-but when the next decree came forth, "No more

ood, stared-stonier

sued decree. Not the Pir?us only, but all Athens should be destroyed; every inch

though she does not name it so, she tells the third "supreme adventure" of her life.

of Phokis rise

an of Phokis

way of that fier

of the Elektra, full

choric flower,

while he sits gazing up at her, she chants again the

s are Greeks, and

is power, a

n to, full-face,

ce-thaw! The

ying with stran

erence Ele

'Let

ai'!

as saved thro

les, through-mo

who, Wild-Pome

triumph, and f

*

uld not. Comedy should destroy the Long Walls: the flute-girls should lead off in the dance, should time the strok

ay Euripide

sing of Athenai; they would go

ther earth, new

ver prompts to

old grey mariner, whose ship she had saved in the firs

stion back to

r Euripides!'

uld be Rhodes indeed: to R

e little valley "laughed an

eezing, like th

rmed him through h

Arethusa b

Never again will her eyes behold Athenai, nor in imagination see "the ghastly mirth that mocke

oud there, with t

e none; for does not the soul an

owding, cryst

se, a silver

and care, what

liberality

s! How rose-smit

, some bright morn

w, and every wave and wind

horus-what th

rk! 'There are n

d-who saves

y here. Nearly always, for man's homage, woman must in some sort be victim: she must suffer ere he can adore. But Balaustion triumphs

viduality." Of all men Brownin

TNO

Browning's spell

er of Balaustion i

n of the isl

eme adventure": her interview with Aristophanes, a

at the Court of Arche

finished his translatio