he had shown, in the noble
fragmentary "prologue" to a _Hippolytus (Artemis Prologizes)_, a command
of the majestic, reticent manner of Greek tragedy sufficiently
remarkable in one whose natural instincts of expression were far more
Elizabethan than Greek. The incongruity of Greek dramatic methods with
his own seems to have speedily checked his progress; but Euripides, the
author of the Greek _Hippolytus_, retained a peculiar fascination for
him, and it was on another Euripidean drama that he now, in the fulness
of his powers, set his hand. The result certainly does not diminish our
sense of the incongruity. Keenly as he admired the humanity and pathos
of Euripides, he challenges comparison with Euripides most successfully
when he goes completely his own way. He was too robustly original to
"transcribe" well, and his bold emphatic speech, curbed to the task of
reproducing the choice and pregnant sobriety of Attic style, is apt to
eliminate everything but the sobriety. The "transcribed" Greek is often
yet flatter than "literal" versions of Greek verse are wont to be, and
when Browning speaks in his own person the style recovers itself with a
sudden and vehement bound, like a noble wild creature abruptly released
from restraint. Among the finest of these "recoveries" are the bursts of
description which Balaustion's enthusiasm interjects between the
passages of dialogue. Such is the magnificent picture of the coming of
Herakles. In the original he merely enters as the chorus end their song,
addressing them with the simple inquiry, "Friends, is Admetos haply
within?" to which the chorus reply, like civil retainers, "Yes,
Herakles, he is at home." Browning, or his Balaustion, cannot permit the
mighty undoer of the tragic harms to come on in this homely fashion. A
great interrupting voice rings suddenly through the dispirited
maunderings of Admetos' house-folk; and the hearty greeting, "My hosts
here!" thrills them with the sense that something good and opportune is
at hand:--

"Sudden into the midst of sorrow leapt,
Along with the gay cheer of that great voice
Hope, joy, salvation: Herakles was here!
Himself o' the threshold, sent his voice on first
To herald all that human and divine
I' the weary, happy face of him,--half god,
Half man, which made the god-part god the more."

The heroic helpfulness of Herakles is no doubt the chief thing for
Browning in the story. The large gladn