Robert Browning

“ Norbert.
With this day's heat
We shall go on through years of cold.
Constance.
So, best!
—I try to see those years—I think I see.
You walk quick and new warmth comes; you look back
And lay all to the first glow—not sit down
For ever brooding on a day like this
While seeing embers whiten and love die.
Yes, love lives best in its effect; and mine,
Full in its own life, yearns to live in yours.
Norbert.
Just so. I take and know you all at once.
Your soul is disengaged so easily,
Your face is there, I know you ”

“ Norbert.
Constance?
Constance.
Why, must I teach it you again?
You want a witness to your dullness, sir?
What was I saying these ten minutes long?
Then I repeat—when some young handsome man
Like you has acted out a part like yours,
Is pleased to fall in love with one beyond,
So very far beyond him, as he says—
So hopelessly in love that but to speak
Would prove him mad,—he thinks judiciously,
And makes some insignificant good soul
Like me, his friend, adviser, confidant
And very stalking-horse to cover him
In following after what he dares not face. ”

“ We live, and they experiment on life—
Those poets, painters, all who stand aloof
To overlook the farther. Let us be
The thing they look at! I might take your face
And write of it and paint it—to what end?
For whom? what pale dictatress in the air
Feeds, smiling sadly, her fine ghost-like form
With earth's real blood and breath, the beauteous life
She makes despised for ever? ”

“ And show this soul of mine, you crown as yours,
And justify us both.
Constance.
Could you write books,
Paint pictures! One sits down in poverty
And writes or paints, with pity for the rich.
Norbert.
And loves one's painting and one's writing, then,
And not one's mistress! All is best, believe,
And we best as no other than we are. ”