How does "Porphyria's Lover" reflect the prudish "Victorian attitudes" of the time?

Browning has written several dramatic monologues in which
the persona is mentally disturbed (My Last Duchess, etc.) This is
another one in which the speaker is obviously not of sound mind. During Victorian times,
“tableaux vivant” was a popular art form and many believe that Browning was trying to
recreate this art form through his poetry. “Tableaux vivant” means “living picture” in
French and in this art form, human beings, usually artists’ models, were costumed, posed
and put on display as a kind of living painting. Victorian writers were quite interested
in this art form and made many attempts to transfer the concept to their
writing.

As far as the prudish aspects of the Victorian
period that show up in this work, first of all, the speaker is obviously a man, and he
is sitting in his cottage alone. It is cold and rainy outside, but he has let the fire
go out. As soon as Porphyria comes in, she immediately notices this and sets to work to
get the fire going, like a good Victorian woman:

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She shut the cold out and the storm, And kneeled
and made the cheerless grate Blaze up, and all the cottage
warm;

She tries to engage the
man in conversation, but he is brooding, so she tries to love
him:

And,
stooping, made my cheek lie there, And spread, o'er all, her yellow
hair,

He is like the speaker
in Browning’s My Last Duchess – he is a obsessive and possessing,
and wants to possess Porphyria. Her love, though, is not enough to cure him from
whatever is wrong with him. He calls her “weak” – illustrating the popular Victorian
idea that women were the weaker sex: 

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she, Too weak, for all her heart's endeavor,To
set its struggling passion free, From pride, and vainer ties dissever, And give herself
to me forever.

When he looks
at her, though, he surmises that she does indeed love him – but he desires more. He
wants her to worship him:

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at last I knew Porphyria worshiped
me:

When he realizes she
worships him, he wants to keep this moment forever. He wants the scene to be a permanent
work of art:

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That moment she was mine, mine, fair, Perfectly
pure and good:

And after he
kills her, it is HE who is in charge. It is now HE who places her head on HIS
shoulder.

I
propped her head up as before, Only, this time my shoulder bore, Her head, which droops
upon it still:

Pretty macho,
pretty Victorian, pretty sick, wouldn’t you say?