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 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 5
“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) 10
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 15
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 20
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 favor at her breast, 25
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, 30
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 35
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 40
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; 45
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 50
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, 55
Which Claus of Innsbruck cast in bronze for me!  
   
 
My Last Duchess — This poem first appeared in Dramatic Lyrics in 1842.
 
Ferrara — As with most of Browning’s poems, this is a dramatic monologue, which means it is written from the perspective of a particular character, not Browning himself. This poem’s speaker is Alfonso II, Duke of Ferrara (1533-97) a Renaissance-era Italian duke. He married Lucrezia di Cosimo de’Medici when she was fourteen; she died mysteriously three years later. Ferrara then married the Archduchess Barbara of Austria. The person Ferrara addresses in this poem is Nikolaus Madruz, the agent for Ferdinand II, the Count of Tyrol, who was Barbara’s brother and guardian and negotiated the terms of the marriage between Ferrara and Barbara.
 
Pandolf — presumably the painter of the duchess’s portrait (not a real person); “Fra” means brother, meaning he is a monk.
 
puts by — pulls or draws aside; the painting (or possibly fresco) is thus normally concealed by a curtain.
 
durst — dared
 
mantle — cloak
 
favor — a present, perhaps jewelry
 
exceed the mark — go too far
 
lessoned — taught or lectured (but also perhaps punning on lessened)
 
notice Neptune — a sculpture of Neptune, Roman God of the Sea (equivalent to the Greek god Poseidon)
 
Claus of Innsbruck — another artist Browning invented