Porphyria's Lover by Robert Browning summary

 

The rain set early in to-night,

       The sullen wind was soon awake,

It tore the elm-tops down for spite,

       And did its worst to vex the lake:

       I listened with heart fit to break.

When glided in Porphyria; straight

       She shut the cold out and the storm,

And kneeled and made the cheerless grate

       Blaze up, and all the cottage warm;

       Which done, she rose, and from her form

Withdrew the dripping cloak and shawl,

       And laid her soiled gloves by, untied

Her hat and let the damp hair fall,

       And, last, she sat down by my side

       And called me. When no voice replied,

She put my arm about her waist,

       And made her smooth white shoulder bare,

And all her yellow hair displaced,

       And, stooping, made my cheek lie there,

       And spread, o'er all, her yellow hair,

Murmuring how she loved me — she

       Too weak, for all her heart's endeavour,

To set its struggling passion free From pride, 

       And give herself to me for ever.

But passion sometimes would prevail,

       Nor could to-night's gay feast restrain

A sudden thought of one so pale

       For love of her, and all in vain:

       So, she was come through wind and rain.

Be sure I looked up at her eyes

       Happy and proud; at last I knew

Porphyria worshipped me; surprise

       Made my heart swell, and still it grew

       While I debated what to do.

That moment she was mine, mine, fair,

       Perfectly pure and good: I found

A thing to do, and all her hair

       In one long yellow string I wound

       Three times her little throat around,

And strangled her. No pain felt she;

       I am quite sure she felt no pain.

As a shut bud that holds a bee,

       I warily oped her lids: again

       Laughed the blue eyes without a stain.

And I untightened next the tress

       About her neck; her cheek once more

Blushed bright beneath my burning kiss:

       I propped her head up as before,

       Only, this time my shoulder bore

Her head, which droops upon it still:

       The smiling rosy little head,

So glad it has its utmost will,

       And I, its love, am gained instead!

Porphyria's love:

And thus we sit together now,

       And all night long we have not stirred,

       And yet God has not said a word!

Porphyria's Lover by Robert Browning is the most celebrated dramatic monologue which deals with the enigmatic love and actions of the lover. The poem is open ended as it remains several unresolved confusions in the minds of the readers. Browning presents a mysterious lover in the poem he in fact shocks the readers with his abnormal psychology. The lover strangles his beloved with her long hair and expresses a sense of fulfilment and a perfect happiness. His odd and sadist mind is evident through his final actions with the corpse, as he finds ecstasy on killing his beloved.

The lover is the speaker in this dramatic monologue. He lives in a countryside cottage. That particular night was stormy and the beloved takes shelter in her lover’s cottage. She makes fire in the fireplace and takes off her wet dresses and gloves. She talks to her lover, but he remains silent. She embraces him and tells about the social barriers she has to face to meet him. She admits the fact that she loves him too much and the speaker realizes she worships him. He feels the genuine love from her for first time. He was eagerly waiting for such moment. He wants her to remain same with him for ever and ever. He fears she might not love him in the same manner if it becomes difficult for her to face the societal dogma and hierarchy. To capture the perfect moment forever, the eccentric lover decides something strange and winds her golden hair three times around her neck and kills her. She even does not protest and utter a sound.  He, then, talks to her dead body, opening her blue eyes, propping her body and calling her cheek ‘blushed’ and head ‘rosy little head’. Throughout the whole night he spent the time with her dead body and in the final line he shocked us stating that ‘And yet God has not said a word!’

Thus, the poem leaver several confusions. But, it can be justified as he wants to win her love forever. He has the fear that she might be lost. He thinks he can stop the loving moment and capture the time by killing her. The murder is committed to win her love forever.

The crime is one aspect of the poem. Another aspect is social attitude. The line "God has not said a word!" stands for social attitude. Entire Victorian culture was based on the male dominated perspective. This crime is sanctioned by the society. Nobody bothers to speak against this criminal activity. He has, in fact, committed murder, and he expects God to punish him or, at least, to take notice. The speaker is surprised, perhaps a little uneasy, at God's continued silence. God, here, may be symbolically stands for the male dominated society where the murder of a lady is noticed, but no action is taken against it.

The setting of the poem is quite violent. The violent nature outside has been juxtaposed with the violence in the mind  of the lover. The form of poetry, the dramatic lyric is used to explore the violence, lying inside the human psyche. The poem in fact makes a journey in to the dark shades of human psyche. The speaker seems convinced that Porphyria wanted to be murdered, and claims ‘No pain felt she’ while being strangled, adding, as if to convince himself, ‘I am quite sure she felt no pain.’ He may even believe she enjoyed the pain, because he, her lover, imposed it.