By 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 as 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’ 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 pretense
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!
My Last Duchess is a dramatic monologue written in 1842 and set in Renaissance Italy (16th century). It is a single (one) stanza poem of 56 lines in rhyming couplet (i.e. iambic lines or fully rhyming).
The poem opens with the speaker obviously showing a guest his prized artworks: paintings, sculptors in his gallery, inside his chateau.
At the moment the poem opens, the speaker and his listener are apparently in front of the portrait of a young beautiful woman which turns out to be a duchess, (as we learn in the course of the reading, she is dead, in fact, murdered).
So, the speaker is a Duke. As we read on, we deduce that there is a listener. Going further into the poem, we realise the listener is a hapless listener – he seems unable to do anything in the face of the speaker’s tyranny: his arrogance, domineering attitude and commanding tone –
/That’s my last duchess; will it please you, sit and look at her?/
/- nine hundred years old name/
/wilt it please you, rise, we will meet the company below then/
The speaker’s bragging about his nine hundred years old name, his bragging about how he gave commands and all smiles stopped! His bragging about Neptune and what Neptune considered a great achievement which paled in the face of what /Claus of Innsbruck/ (a sculptor) did for him! – All these revealed to both the listener and the reader the kind of man the speaker (the Duke) is.
The Duke is trying to persuade the emissary of a Count (his listener) that he is the right man to marry the daughter of the Count, his master.
The Duke pausing in front of his dead wife’s portrait starts a compulsive monologue about the dead woman.
This is a character trait found in transgressors – they indulge in compulsive and excessive talking, unable to give a listener a chance to put in a word. And in the process, they reveal great secrets, mostly exposing and harming themselves in the process.
The Duke has authority over an Italian town called Ferrara. He has power and wields authority over a large area. This, it turns out, he brings into his domestic affairs.
We are able to separate three characters in this poem. They are: the speaker, an arrogant aristocrat with a-nine hundred years old title, who is also a heartless sadist, then we have the listener, who’s an emissary from another titled man – he’s a servant to a Count (a lower aristocrat).
The third character is the focal character, the one whom the poem is all about, the one the arrogant Duke speaks about – we can call her the poor duchess! Ironic, isn’t it? – That a Duchess can be poor?
Of course she’s not pauper poor, but poor in the sense that she married a sadist of a husband, a man who loves himself and over values his situation in life, and whose interest in others is as deep as the person’s relational importance to his ego and their appreciation of his status in life which he condescends to share with them.
We read in the poem that there is a nuptial contract in the offing. But, contrary to what we are accustomed to, which is that a man who seeks the hand of a woman in marriage, goes to the father of the girl to make his intentions known, in this situation, the young woman’s family obviously goes to the arrogant Duke.
I perceive that he sent a message like, ‘I want to marry your daughter, come let’s discuss the modalities!’ – And the Count, in awe of the Duke’s estate and his nine hundred years old title, goes hurrying to him. So, the setting of this meeting is the Duke’s palace, his chateau, the domain of his authority.
It is with a chilling understanding as the story unfolds, that we realise that the third character in this story (poem), is a young woman married to the speaker at a point, who is dead now, whose sin is that she was ‘too easily impressed’ – /she had a heart soon made glad/ She was a young woman who had no sense of what was valuable or important and what wasn’t. She valued everything alike: her lord’s /favour at her breast/ the dropping of the day light in the west/ the bough of cherries some officious fool broke in the orchard for her/
It is with shock that we realise that this lady’s simplicity and natural sexuality caused her, her life!
If we are to say what the late Duchess was, we would probably say that she was a charming caring young woman with a good heart. She had no arrogance in her.
Poetry is the most concise written form of expression. In few words, with great dexterity of language, Browning painted the pictures of three characters: two vivid ones and one in the background.
The reader reading through the musings of an arrogant man who thinks, perhaps, that he’s doing a young dead woman a disservice by revealing her shortcomings, ends up undoing himself.
The reader realises that he’s in the face of a male chauvinist, a sexist, a tyrant, a feudal lord who brings into his domestic life, the same iron hand he uses for his properties and the occupiers of his estate.
Of course, beyond the story playing out in front of us is the background of the Italian Renaissance – 16th century Italy. We see Browning developing a character in his persona. The poet used the background of how men lived in this era to tell a very powerful story of power drunkenness, greed and self-indulgence.
It is said that absolute power corrupts absolutely. The reader sees how this plays out even in the domestic life of a power drunk tyrant. The Duke thinks nothing of affection and human feelings even in something as romantic as marriage.
The poem is loosely based on a historical figure – the Duke of Ferrara. (Browning lived in Italy from 1846-1861) A time when the aristocrats ruled and mere men trembled. It was a time when the peasants knew their place and titles and names counted.
It was a time when men of low estate must be grateful for any kind of interest the highly born showed to them. It was a time that people of low estate could be killed without anyone batting an eye! So, Robert Browning who lived in the Victorian age examined the lifestyle of Renaissance Italy.
The two periods are alike: the time when men exercised control and were in total dominion. Men were in charge in relationship, and women were seen as possession, property in marriage.
But, obviously, Browning was not in praise of this kind of lifestyle because he limned the Duke with his power and authority who sets out to rubbish the image and character of the Duchess, a sweet innocent young woman, but who ends up rubbishing himself.
The Duke is a tyrant, a power-drunk arrogant wicked sadist whose nine hundred years old name, has gone to his head. He does not realise that he is a cold blooded murderer.
Done with the ravings about the murdered duchess, the Duke eases into the matter of a new duchess, another young woman he intends to bring into his domain, into his control. And he is greedy. Despite all that he owns, the Duke is bold to make known to the emissary of the Count, his potential in-law, his interest in the young woman’s dowry –
/I repeat,
The Count your master’s known munificence
Is ample warrant that no just pretense
Of mine for dowry will be disallowed;
Though his fair daughter’s self, as I avowed
At starting, is my object/
The central idea or the theme of this poem is the evil of unfettered power. In the Victorian age and the Renaissance Italy, the poor, people of low estate were powerless in the face of totalitarian aristocrats.
I believe Browning was pointing out that what people were seeing in the society at that time, was a reflection of what was going on in the home; after all, charity begins at home, and so does evil practices!
The poet used different figures of speech to convey his story in this poem. Such figures of speech as Assonance, Enjambment, Irony, Simile, Consonance, Hyperbole, Euphemism and Symbolism can be found by even casual readers of poetry. There is the perfection of ideas and words.
One of the most ironic things about this poem aside the title is the fact that the speaker who sets out to discredit his dead wife, ends up discrediting himself.
So, readers, I say, we be careful lest we do the same against ourselves in trying to discredit others.
