Few of the Greeks could write with greater exquisiteness of natural beauty than this wild poet who loved the dunghill.

And Browning does not say this, but records in this _Apology_ how when Aristophanes is touched for an instant by Balaustion's reading of the _Herakles_, and seizing the psalterion sings the song of Thamuris marching to his trial with the Muses through a golden autumn morning--it is the glory and loveliness of nature that he sings.

This portraiture of the poet is scattered through the whole poem.
It is too minute, too full of detail to dwell on here.

It has a thousand touches of life and intimacy.

And it is perhaps the finest thing Browning has done in portraiture of character.