Soliloquy of the Spanish Cloister by Robert Browning

Editor's note

The poem begins with a tense atmosphere. The speaker observes Brother Lawrence caring for his garden, filled with such intense hatred that he struggles to articulate his feelings — hence the growling "Gr-r-r." The opening line reveals it all: here is a man whose hatred lacks any rational basis. Lawrence is simply watering his plants, and yet the speaker is condemning him to hell for it.

Editor's note

"Salve tibi" translates to "greetings to you" in Latin — a formal religious greeting exchanged by the monks, yet the speaker finds it intolerable. He ridicules Lawrence's small talk about the weather and the harvest, then scoffs at his inquiries about Latin and Greek plant names. The irony here is that asking about Latin names in a monastery is entirely expected; the speaker's disdain exposes his own small-mindedness.

Editor's note

The speaker imitates Lawrence's meticulous habits with his eating utensils — his shiny plate, his pristine spoon, and his goblet engraved with the initial "L." The tone drips with sarcasm and disdain. However, the detail about Lawrence rinsing his cup "like something sacrificial" suggests that he might actually be the more sincere one, viewing even a meal as a form of ritual.

Editor's note

The speaker attempts to expose Lawrence's lust. Close by, two local women, Dolores and Sanchicha, are washing their hair, and the speaker claims that Lawrence's eye "glows" at the sight of them—like a pirate's, eager and predatory. However, the speaker provides a vivid and sensual description of the women himself, revealing that the accusation reflects more about the speaker's own fixations than about Lawrence.

Editor's note

The speaker criticizes Lawrence for not placing his knife and fork in a cross after eating — a minor act of devotion the speaker insists he practices. He also brags about drinking his orange juice in precisely three sips to pay homage to the Trinity, claiming this somehow counters the Arian heresy. This self-praise is ridiculous; the speaker has transformed table etiquette into a theological contest that only he is competing in.

Editor's note

Lawrence has been growing melons and is generously sharing them with everyone in the community, including the Abbot. In response, the speaker inadvertently admits that he has been secretly keeping his own plants small to ensure they don't outshine Lawrence's. This confession comes out almost by accident in parentheses — "Keep 'em close-nipped on the sly!" — creating one of the poem's funniest and most revealing moments of self-exposure.

Editor's note

Now the speaker's scheming takes a truly dark turn. He imagines fooling Lawrence into reciting a passage from Galatians that he claims contains twenty-nine distinct damnations, planning it so that Lawrence dies in a state of heresy and heads straight to hell. The theology here is a confusing mess, which adds to the humor — the speaker believes he's an expert on scripture but is really just fabricating it.

Editor's note

Plan B: the speaker owns a pornographic French novel and fantasizes about hiding it among Lawrence's greengages, hoping Lawrence will stumble upon it and be spiritually corrupted. The speaker describes the book with a mix of disgust and delight — "scrofulous," "blunt type," "Belial's gripe" — which brings up the question of why a holy monk would possess such a book in the first place.

Editor's note

The last and most drastic plan: sell his own soul to the Devil, while adding a loophole in the contract to trick the Devil. In return, the Devil would annihilate Lawrence's beloved rose-acacia. The speaker whispers what resemble dark chants — "Hy, Zy, Hine" — before the Vespers bell interrupts him. He quickly returns to his devout monk persona mid-prayer, finishing with "Gr-r-r—you swine!" The poem ends just as it began, the hatred lingering and unresolved.