My Last
Duchess
Robert Browning
FERRARA
That's my last
Duchess painted on the wall,
Looking as
if she were alive. I call
That piece
a wonder, now: Fra Pandolf's hands
Worked busily
a day, and there she stands.
Will't please
you sit and look at her? I said
"Fra Pandolf"
by design, for never read
Strangers
like you that pictured countenance,
The depth
and passion of its earnest glance,
But to myself
they turned (since none puts by
the curtain
I
have drawn for you, but I)
And seemed
they would ask me, if they durst,
How such a
glance came there; so not the first
Are you to
turn and ask thus. Sir, 'twas not
Her husband's
presence only, called that spot
Of joy into
the Duchess's cheek: perhaps
Fra Pandolf
chanced to say "Her mantle laps
Over my lady's
wrist too much," or Paint
Must never
hope to reproduce the faint
Half flush
that dies along her throat": such stuff
Was courtesy,
she thought, and cause enough
For calling
up that spot of you. She had
A heart--how
shall I say?--too soon made glad,
Too easily
impressed; she liked whate'er
She looked
on, and her looks went everywhere.
Sir, 'twas
all one! My favor at her breast,
The dropping
of the daylight in the West,
The bough
of cherries some officious fool
Broke in the
orchard for her, the white mule
She rode with
round the terrace--all and each
Would draw
from her alike the approving speech,
Or blush,
at least. She thanked men--good! but thanked
Somehow--I
know not how--as if she ranked
My gift of
a nine-hundred-years-old name
With anybody's
gift. Who'd stoop to blame
This sort
of trifling? Even had you skill
In speech--(which
I have not)--to make your will
Quite clear
to such a one, and say, "Just this
Or that in
you disgusts me; here you miss
Or there exceed
the mark"--and if she let
Herself be
lessoned so, nor plainly set
her wits to
yours, forsooth, and made excuse
--E'en then
would be some stooping; and I choose
Never to stoop.
Oh sir, she smiled, no doubt
Whene'er I
passed her; but who passed without
Much the same
smile? This grew; I gave commands;
Then all smiles
stopped together. There she stands
As if alive.
Will't please you rise? We'll meet
the company
below, then. I repeat
The Count
your master's known munificence
Is ample warrant
that no just pretense
Of mine dowry
will be disallowed
Though his
fair daughter's self, as I avowed
At starting,
is my object. Nay, we'll go
Together down,
sir. Notice Neptune, though,
Taming a sea
horse, thought a rarity,
Which claus
of Innsbruck cast in bronze for me!
Additional
Information on Robert Browning
Additional
Poems by Robert Browning
Analysis
Jacki Davis, Sara Hawkins,
Lisa Hilmes, Jenna Valach
Written in 1842 by Robert Browning, "My Last Duchess" is the dramatic monologue
of the duke of Ferrara who is negotiating his second marriage through an
agent of the count of Tyrol on the grand staircase of the ducal palace
at Ferrara in northern Italy. Executing the elements of a dramatic monologue,
the duke reveals his situation and much more than he intends to the both
the agent and the reader.
Using iambic pentameter AABB couplets Robert Browning reveals the horrifying
story of the murder of the duke's previous wife through the duke's conversation
with the agent. As the duke attempts to paint an inaccurate picture of
himself to the agent, desiring to appear as a nobel, but abused and caring,
loving husband who had no choice but to murder his prideful, disrespectful
wife, the duke's true controlling, manipulative, jealous nature is revealed.
The duke's desire for control is made evident by the structure of the poem,
through his appreciation of art, and his response to the trivial incidences
that led to the death of his wife. The frequent use of caesura throughout
the poem emphasize the duke's control over the conversation. The
duke's appreciation of art reveals the control he has over the artists
that produce his works of art; the portrait of his last duchess and the
statue of Neptune. Although the duke was unable to control the duchess
when she was alive, after her death he is in complete control of her. The
duke says "none puts by the curtain I have drawn for you, but I," revealing
that now he is able to control both the duchess's countenance and who views
the portrait by a curtain covering the portrait (10).
The
duke's loss of control is also depicted through the rhythm of the poem.
The run over lines in the poem, or enjambment in the poem, reveal the duke's
nervous uneasiness over his wife's murder. For example, near the end of
the poem, the duke loses control. The reader can only imagine the horrified
agent rising to go down the staircase, the duke's uneasiness as he loses
control, and his desire to regain control of the situation as he says,
"Nay we'll go down together, sir"(53).
The duke wants to appear as a hurt and abused husband whose disrespectful
wife left him no alternative but to kill her. However his appreciation
of art reveals that he values things that he can control and is contrasted
with the images of nature that surround the duchess. The "daylight
in the West.....the bough of cherries," and "the white mule," all natural
objects that are associated with the duchess' happiness. These images of
nature are a sharp contrast to the artificial objects the duke values.
His unhappiness over the duchess' association with nature is revealed in
the line "I know not how--as if she ranked my gift of a nine-hundred-years-old-name
with anybody's gift"(34). It is clear that the duke believes that his name,
something artificial, is of greater value than the natural objects that
cause the duchess joy.
In the end it is the duke's loss of control that causes him to kill her.
His inability to control the live duchess herself, resulted in her death,
and now all that remains is another valued object, which he is in complete
control of.
Questions and Comments:
lisahilmes@hotmail.com
Portrait of Princesse
de Broglie
by Jean Auguste
Dominique Ingres
-