e man's mind; and makes
him think before us in a long and impassioned soliloquy, which sets
forth the hidden motive of his deed. As Mr. Browning conceives him, he
did not mean to kill himself. He did so in a final, irresistible impulse
to manifest his faith, and to test the foundations of it. It has had for
its object, not the spiritual truths of Christianity, but its miraculous
powers; and these powers have of late been symbolized to his mind by the
Virgin of the Ravissante.[79] The conflict of despotisms has thus been
waged between the natural woman and the supernatural: each a monarch in
her way. As he looks from his tower towards the Church of the
Ravissante, he apostrophizes her who is enthroned there.

He imagines her to have reproached him for his divided allegiance; and
asserts, in answer, that he has been subject to her all his life. "He
could not part with his soul's treasure. But he has, for her sake,
lavished his earthly goods, burned away his flesh. If his sacrifice has
been incomplete, it was because another power, mysterious and unnamed,
but yet as absolute as she, had cast its spells about him. He would have
resisted the Enchantress, if she, the Despot, had made a sign. But what
token has he ever received, of her acceptance, her approbation? She
exacts from her servants the surrender of both body and soul; the least
deficiency in the offering neutralizes its sum. And what does she give
in exchange for body and soul? Promises? Is a man to starve while the
life-apple is withheld from him, if even husks are within his reach?
Miracles? Will she make a finger grow on his maimed hand? Would he not
be called a madman if he expected it?"

And yet he believes. He summons her to justify his belief. He claims of
her a genuine miracle--a miracle of power, which will silence
scepticism, and re-establish the royalty of the Church--a miracle of
mercy, which will wipe away the past; reconcile duty and love; give
Clara into his hands as his pure and lawful wife. "She is to carry him
through the air to the space before her church as she was herself
conveyed there...." Then come the leap and the catastrophe.

He had by a second will bequeathed all his possessions to the Church,
reserving in them a life-interest for his virtual wife; and when the
cousinry swooped down on what they thought their prey, Madame Mulhausen
could receive them and their condolences with the indignant scorn which
their greed and cruelty deserved.