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MY LAST DUCHESS
by Robert Browning
FERRARA -
THAT'S my last Duchess painted on the wall
Looking as if she were alive. I call
That piece a wondernow: Fra Pandolf's hands
Worked busily a dayand there she stands.
Will't please you sit and look at her? I said
"Fra Pandolf" by designfor 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 youbut I)
And seemed as they would ask meif they durst
How such a glance came there; sonot the first
Are you to turn and ask thus. Sir'twas not
Her husband's presence onlycalled 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 courtesyshe thoughtand 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 onand 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 herthe white mule
She rode with round the terrace- all and each
Would draw from her alike the approving speech
Or blushat 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 oneand say"Just this
Or that in you disgusts me; here you miss
Or there exceed the mark"- and if she let
Herself be lessoned sonor plainly set
Her wits to yoursforsoothand made excuse
-E'en then would be some stooping; and I choose
Never to stoop. Oh sirshe smiledno 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 belowthen. 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 selfas I avowed
At startingis my object. Naywe'll go
Together downsir! Notice Neptunethough
Taming a sea-horsethought a rarity
Which Claus of Innsbruck cast in bronze for me! - -
THE END