Lines 129-171 Summary

I drew men's faces on my copy-books,
Scrawled them within the antiphonary's marge,
Joined legs and arms to the long music-notes,
Found eyes and nose and chin for A's and B's,
And made a string of pictures of the world
Betwixt the ins and outs of verb and noun,
On the wall, the bench, the door. The monks looked black.
"Nay," quoth the Prior, "turn him out, d'ye say?
In no wise. Lose a crow and catch a lark.
What if at last we get our man of parts,
We Carmelites, like those Camaldolese
And Preaching Friars, to do our church up fine
And put the front on it that ought to be!"
And hereupon he bade me daub away.
Thank you! my head being crammed, the walls a blank,
Never was such prompt disemburdening.
First, every sort of monk, the black and white,
I drew them, fat and lean: then, folk at church,
From good old gossips waiting to confess
Their cribs of barrel-droppings, candle-ends,—
To the breathless fellow at the altar-foot,
Fresh from his murder, safe and sitting there
With the little children round him in a row
Of admiration, half for his beard and half
For that white anger of his victim's son
Shaking a fist at him with one fierce arm,
Signing himself with the other because of Christ
(Whose sad face on the cross sees only this
After the passion of a thousand years)
Till some poor girl, her apron o'er her head,
(Which the intense eyes looked through) came at eve
On tiptoe, said a word, dropped in a loaf,
Her pair of earrings and a bunch of flowers
(The brute took growling), prayed, and so was gone.
I painted all, then cried "'Tis ask and have;
Choose, for more's ready!"—laid the ladder flat,
And showed my covered bit of cloister-wall.
The monks closed in a circle and praised loud
Till checked, taught what to see and not to see,
Being simple bodies,—"That's the very man!
Look at the boy who stoops to pat the dog!
That woman's like the Prior's niece who comes
To care about his asthma: it's the life!''

• Lippo takes this ability he gains through his hunger pains and puts it to work: he starts to draw. And by this we mean pretty much everywhere. He draws all over his schoolbooks (the "antiphonary's marge" means the margins of his church service book), makes faces out of capital letters, draws little pictures of the world in his Latin book, and then starts drawing on the walls, doors, and benches.
• The monks don't take too kindly to this. They look "black," which means angry.
• The Prior (the head honcho monk) comes to the kid's rescue, though (and we get a sort of dramatic monologue within a dramatic monologue here in lines 136-141, when we hear the Prior speak in Lippo's defense). He disagrees that Lippo should be thrown back out onto the streets.
• Instead, the Prior suggests they "lose a crow and catch a lark" (137), which roughly means they'll train Lippo for something better. And that something turns out to be the monastery's artist. After all, the Camaldolese monks and the Dominicans (the "Preaching Friars") have artists that paint their churches up to look good. Why can't the Carmelites? The Prior wants Lippo to "put the front" on the Church. So, basically, Lippo's job is to give it a good outer appearance, which is an image that fits in well with the fruit and vegetable rinds back at line 84.
• And with that, the Prior gives little Lippo permission to paint away. Here, the old Lippo calls it "daub," which suggests a more frivolous action, and has the effect of making him seem humble.
• First, Lippo paints all kinds of monks, both those that wear black robes (Benedictine monks) and those that wear white (Cistercian monks).
• Then he starts painting all of the regular Joes (and Josephines) who come into the church: from the old woman who is confessing to petty thievery, to a man who has just murdered another man's son. While Browning is dealing with words here, he still creates a vivid picture through using present participles. The phrases "shaking a fist" and "signing himself" (154-155) give readers the impression the scene is taking place right before their eyes, and creates a poetically vivid parallel to the realism of Lippo's paintings.
• Lippo's fellow monks gather round in amazement at his mad painting skills. They recognize all of the figures on his bit of wall, and remark on how life-like everything is. "It's the life!" one exclaims (171).