The Last Ride Together (after Browning)

(From Her Point of View) When I had firmly answered 'No', And he allowed that that was so, I really thought I should be free For good and all from Mr B., And that he would soberly acquiesce: I said that it would be discreet That for a while we should not meet; I promised I would always feel A kindly interest in his weal; I thanked him for his amorous zeal; In short, I said all I could but 'yes'. I said what I'm accustomed to, I acted as I always do; I promised he should find in me A friend, - a sister, if that might be: But he was still dissatisfied: He certainly was most polite; He said exactly what was right, He acted very properly, Except indeed for this, that he Insisted on inviting me To come with him for 'one more last ride'. A little while in doubt I stood: A ride, no doubt, would do me good: I had a habit and a hat Extremely well worth looking at: The weather was distinctly fine: My horse too wanted exercise, And time, when one is riding, flies: Besides it really seemed, you see, The only way of ridding me Of pertinacious Mr B.: So my head I graciously incline. I won't say much of what happened next: I own I was extremely vexed: Indeed I should have been aghast If anyone had seen what passed: But nobody need ever know That, as I leaned forward to stir the fire, He advanced before I could well retire, And I suddenly felt, to my great alarm, The grasp of a warm unlicensed arm, An embrace in which I found no charm; I was awfully glad when he let me go. Then we began to ride: my steed Washer fresh, too fresh indeed, And at first I thought of little, save The way to escape an early grave, As the dust rose up on either side. My stern companion jogged along On a brown old cob both broad and strong: He looked as he does when he's writing verse, Or endeavouring not to swear and curse, Or wondering where he has left his purse, Indeed it was a sombre ride. I spoke of the weather to Mr B., But he neither listened nor spoke to me; I praised his horse, and I smiled the smile Which was wont to move him once on a while; I said I was wearing his favourite flowers: But I wasted my words on the desert air, For he rode with a fixed and gloomy stare: I wonder what he was thinking about: As I don't read verse, I shan't find out: It was something subtle and deep, no doubt, A theme to detain a man for hours. Ah! there was the corner where Mr S. So nearly induced me to whisper 'yes': And here it was that the next but one Proposed on horseback, or would have done, Had his horse not most opportunely shied; Which perhaps was due to an unseen flick He received from my whip: 'twas a scurvy trick, But I never could do with that young man: I hope his present young woman can. Well, I must say, never, since time began, Did I go for a duller or longer ride. He never smiles and he never speaks: He might go on like this for weeks: He rolls a slightly frenzied eye Towards the blue and burning sky, And the cob bounds on with tireless stride, If we aren't at home for lunch at two I don't know what Papa will do; But I know full well he will say to me 'I never approved of Mr B.; It's the very devil that you and he Ride, ride together, for ever ride.