The Laboratory - Robert Browning
A Sinister Quest for Revenge through Poisons
The Laboratory
ANCIEN REGIME
Now that I, tying thy glass mask tightly,
May gaze through these faint smokes curling whitely,
As thou pliest thy trade in this devil’s-smithy—
Which is the poison to poison her, prithee?
He is with her, and they know that I know
Where they are, what they do: they believe my tears flow
While they laugh, laugh at me, at me fled to the drear
Empty church, to pray God in, for them!—I am here.
Grind away, moisten and mash up thy paste,
Pound at thy powder,—I am not in haste!
Better sit thus, and observe thy strange things,
Than go where men wait me and dance at the King’s.
That in the mortar—you call it a gum?
Ah, the brave tree whence such gold ooze shall come!
And yonder soft phial, the exquisite blue,
Sure to taste sweetly,—is that poison too?
Had I but all of them, thee and thy treasures,
What a wild crowd of invisible pleasures!
To carry pure death in an earring, a casket,
A signet, a fan-mount, a filigree-basket!
Soon, at the King’s, a mere lozenge to give
And Pauline should have just thirty minutes to live!
But to light a pastile, and Elise, with her head
And her breast and her arms and her hands, should drop dead!
Quick—is it finished? The colour’s too grim!
Why not soft like the phial’s, enticing and dim?
Let it brighten her drink, let her turn it and stir,
And try it and taste, ere she fix and prefer!
What a drop! She’s not little, no minion like me!
That’s why she ensnared him: this never will free
The soul from those strong, great eyes,—say, “no!”
To that pulse’s magnificent come-and-go.
For only last night, as they whispered, I brought
My own eyes to bear on her so, that I thought
Could I keep them one half minute fixed, she would fall
Shrivelled; she fell not; yet this does it all!
Not that I bid you spare her the pain!
Let death be felt and the proof remain;
Brand, burn up, bite into its grace—
He is sure to remember her dying face!
Is it done? Take my mask off! Nay, be not morose,
It kills her, and this prevents seeing it close:
The delicate droplet, my whole fortune’s fee!
If it hurts her, beside, can it ever hurt me?
Now, take all my jewels, gorge gold to your fill,
You may kiss me, old man, on my mouth if you will!
But brush this dust off me, lest horror it brings
Ere I know it—next moment I dance at the King’s!
Robert Browning’s “The Laboratory” is a dramatic monologue that takes the reader into the mind of a speaker—commonly assumed to be a woman—who has commissioned a poison from an alchemist. Driven by jealous rage, she meticulously oversees the creation of the deadly concoction meant for her romantic rival (or rivals).
Written in the second-person address to the apothecary, the speaker’s lines drip with gleeful malice and fascination. She relishes every detail of the potions and powders, urging the alchemist to craft the perfect means for her revenge. The intimacy of the laboratory setting, where these devilish brews are concocted, amplifies the dark and secretive nature of her plot.
Browning’s poem exemplifies his mastery of the dramatic monologue form, revealing the speaker’s psyche through her obsessive attention to color, taste, and method of delivery. She imagines slipping poison into everyday objects—an earring, a fan’s mount—thrilled by the power to enact invisible violence.
Throughout the poem, Browning deftly contrasts the speaker’s excitement with her hatred and hurt. Though outwardly assured, her fixation suggests a deep vulnerability: she is wounded enough to commit murder, seeking a distorted sense of control. “The Laboratory” thus explores how jealousy, bitterness, and a yearning to reclaim power can fuel a twisted brand of self-justified evil.
The final lines—where she prepares to “dance at the King’s” after the murder—demonstrate the speaker’s complete shift into calculating cruelty. No sign of remorse or second thoughts arises; only exhilaration at her successful vengeance. It is this nuanced, unrepentant mindset that makes “The Laboratory” a gripping study in moral descent. Even at fewer than seventy lines, the poem powerfully illustrates how hatred and hurt can poison the human heart as surely as any lethal mixture.
Key points
• The poem is a prime example of Browning’s dramatic monologue style, offering an intimate view of a vengeful mind.
• Jealousy and a thirst for revenge drive the speaker to carefully orchestrate her victim’s death.
• The speaker’s fascination with poison and method reflects a deeper, sinister obsession with control.
• Browning explores how hidden pain and rage can lead a person to rationalize acts of dark cruelty.