MY LADT DUCHES Poem - ROBERT BROWNING
A dramatic monologue is a poem written as if spoken aloud by one character . While the character of the Duke speaks he comments on the situation and reveals his personality as well . The poet does not intrude at any point or interpose his own opinions , but gives the character a platform and lets him speak for himself .
When ' My Last Duchess ' first appeared in Dramatic Lyrics it was paired with ' Count Gismond ' under the title ' Italy and France ' . It received its present title in the collected edition of 1849. It is an early example of Browning's study of the Italian Renaissance , and is also a milestone in his development of the dramatic monologue . It is possible that Browning had Alfonso II ( 1553-98 ) , fifth Duke of Ferrara , as his model for the portrait of the Duke of the poem . Terrara ' is a well - fortified city Lower Lombardy , Italy.
My Last Duchess
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 as they would ask me , if they durst ,
de 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 ' 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 joy . 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 favour 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 an 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 pretence
Of mine for 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 !