"One Word More" is the dedication to Elizabeth Barrett Browning
which was appended to "Men and Women" as first published when it
contained fifty poems since distributed under other titles.
The poet, recalling how Rafael when he would all-express his love,
wrote sonnets to the loved one, and how Dante prepared to paint an
angel for Beatrice, draws the conclusion that there is no artist but
longs to give expression to his supreme love in some other art than
his own which would be the medium of a spontaneous, natural outburst
of feeling in a way impossible in the familiar forms of his own art.
Thus he would gain a man's joy and miss the artist's sorrow, for,
like the miracles of Moses, the work of the artist is subject to the
cold criticism of the world, which expects him nevertheless always
to be the artist, and has no sympathy for him as a man. Since there
is no other art but poetry in which it is possible for Browning to
express himself, he will at least drop his accustomed dramatic form
and speak in his own person; though it be poor, let it stand as a
symbol for all-expression. Yet does she not know him, for he has
shown her his soul-side as one might imagine the moon showing
another side to a mortal lover, which would remain forever as much a
mystery to the outside world as the vision seen by Moses, etc.
Similarly, he has admired the side his moon of poets has shown the
whole world in her poetry, but he blesses himself with the thought
of the other side which he alone has seen.
5. Century of sonnets: Rafael is known to have written four love
sonnets on the back of sketches for his wall painting, the
"Disputa," which are still preserved in collections, one of them in
the British Museum. The Italian text of these sonnets with English
translations are given in Wolzogen's Life of him translated by
F. E. Bunn<e`>tt. Did he ever write a hundred? It is supposed that
the lost book once owned by Guido Reni, apparently the one referred
to in stanza iv, was a book of drawings. Perhaps these also bore
sonnets on their backs, or Browning guessed they did.
10. Who that one: Margarita, a girl Rafael met and loved in Rome,
two portraits of whom exist--one in the Barberini Palace, Rome, the
other in the Pitti, in Florence. They resemble the Sistine and
other Madonnas by Rafael.
21. Madonnas, etc.: "San Sisto," now in Dresden; "Foligno," in the
Vatican, Rome; the one in Florence is called "del Granduca," and
represents her appearing in a vision; the one in the Louvre, called
"La Belle Jardini<e`>re," is seated in a garden among lilies.
32. Dante once, etc.: "On that day," writes Dante, "Vita Nuova,"
xxxv, "which fulfilled the year since my lady had been made of the
citizens of eternal life, remembering of her as I sat alone, I
betook myself to draw the resemblance of an angel upon certain
tablets." That this lady was Beatrice Portinari, as Browning
supposes, Dante's devotion to her, in both "The New Life" and "The
Divine Comedy," should leave no doubt. Yet the literalness of
Mr. W. M. Rossetti makes him obtuse here, as he and other
commentators seem to be in their understanding of Browning
throughout this stanza. Browning evidently contrasts Dante's
tenderness here towards Beatrice with the remorselessness of his pen
in the "Inferno" (see Cantos 32 and 33), where he stigmatized his
enemies as if using their very flesh for his parchment, so that ever
after in the eyes of all Florence they seemed to bear the marks of
the poet's hate of their wickedness. It was people of this sort,
grandees of the town, Browning fancies, who again "hinder loving,"
breaking in upon the poet and seizing him unawares forsooth at this
intimate moment of loving artistry. "Chancing to turn my head,"
Dante continues, "I perceived that some were standing beside me to
whom I should have given courteous greeting, and that they were
observing what I did: also I learned afterwards that they had been
there a while before I perceived them." The tender moment was over.
He stopped the painting, simply saying, "Another was with me."
74. He who smites the rock: Moses, whose experience in smiting the
rock for water (Exodus 17.1-7; Numbers 20.1-11) is likened to the
sorrow of the artist, serving a reckless world.