Lucrezia de’ Medici (1545-1561). An example of 16th c. Italian portraiture.
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My Last Duchess is in the form of a monologue, i.e., one person speaking. The entire poem consists of rhyming couplets, in iambic pentameter. 1
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 an extended monologue2 between the Duke of Ferrara3 and a visitor as they view the unveiled portrait of the Duke’s late wife. The first sentence sets the tone of the poem and is very revealing in its word choice: That, not “she,” immediately suggests a kind of objectifying on the Duke’s part, further indicated by last (there were more than one); painted on the wall, a flat, again objectifying representation; and Looking as if she were alive (so she isn’t). A “flat” description of a possession, though he does call the piece a wonder-–now.
The Duke invites his guest to sit and view the painting, drawing back a curtain with which the Duke keeps the painting covered, and which only he draws open (since none puts by /The curtain I have drawn for you, but I), now a clear indication of possessiveness. The Duke identifies the painter as Fra Pandolf [fictional] since viewers often inquire (read) about the pictured countenance, with its earnest glance conveying depth and passion, and seemed to ask, if they dared (durst)–an indication of the Duke’s self-importance–how that look (glance) came about. The major element of the poem and of the Duke’s character is now introduced–jealousy–in arch, somewhat threatening tones. Apparently, in the Duke’s opinion, the Duchess was affected (blushed: spot of joy in the Duchess’ cheek) not only by the his presence, but by the painter’s flattering words: that her mantle too much covered her lovely wrists, and that paint could never duplicate (reproduce) the half-flush present on her neck, both rather intimate comments on the painter’s part that might cause any husband to look askance, much less one as possessive as the Duke. These comments were just courtesy she felt, though enough to cause her to blush.
In the next series of examples of the Duchess’ nature, the Duke’s control begins to falter. beginning with the first real judgment, that the Duchess had a heart /Too easily impressed, and appreciation too easily shown ( she liked whate’er She looked on, and her looks went everywhere). The stereotypical husband in condemnation of the stereotypical wife, a stereotypical recipe for disaster. “Sir, ’twas all one!,” the Duke declares, shocked: his favor, dusk, a gift of a cherry bough, her white mule, all would her feel her approbation (approving speech) and the infuriating blush. The Duke’s mask slips even more: as if she ranked /My gift of a nine-hundred-years-old name /With anybody’s gift.” The Duke’s excessive pride and glorified sense of enfranchisement have been injured, and by his wife, a mere possession. Who would demean himself, stoop, to blame such trifling? The Duke declares that even if one had skill of speech—which he has not, which we have seen decidedly is not true; the power of his monologue attests to that–to make his feelings, his will, actually, known….The examples he gives of what “might” be said are very telling. The gloves are off now. “Just this/Or that in you disgusts me.” Disgusts. We are no longer in the realm of a spat. This is sheer malevolence. He goes on to say that even if he managed to subdue her to his will, and she acceded (let/Herself be lessoned), did not oppose him (nor plainly set/ Her wits to yours), and made excuses, he still would hold his tongue because “I choose never to stoop.” These lines are frightening. The Duke resorts to degradation (disgusts), reprobation (exceed the mark), and intimidation (lessoned). It is clear that in this hypothetical (though we know, real) recounting, the Duchess acts out of fear, and rightly so.
The Duke defends his position by declaring that while she smiled at him Whene’er I passed her, she smiled at everyone–her Too easily impressed heart he mentioned above. He now drops the hypothetical pretense and makes it clear that he did more than “stoop.” The situation worsened (This grew; I gave commands) inevitably since in his mind she was rightfully condemned, so, again inevitably, Then all the smiles stopped altogether, an ominous statement, made more ominous by, There she stands /As if alive. The escalation of feelings recounted here (note all the line breaks [caesuras] Browning uses to indicate the passion anger of the Duke’s mental state) indicate the Duke’s progression from approbation to fury, culminating in /As if alive, surely suggesting that he has killed the Duchess.
The Duke ends the “viewing” and directs his guest down to an apparent gathering (meet/The company below). In a total shift, he reminds the guest of his master’s known munificence . It becomes apparent that the Duke is making arrangements for his next Duchess, angling for a large dowry, no just pretense /Of mine for dowry will be disallowed. Ever the hypocrite and dissembler, he softens the negotiations with, Though his fair daughter’s self, as I avowed /At starting, is my object. In a further show of hypocrisy, he flatters the guest by insisting that they descend the staircase together (Nay, we’ll go Together down), as if equals.
And in a final nod to his amorality, he points out another of his possessions–similar to the Duchess’ painting, and her self– tellingly a bronze of Neptune taming a sea-horse.
The poem is a psychological revelation of subtlety, irony, innuendo, and obliqueness, a monologue master at his best.
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- lines with five iambic feet—each containing one unstressed syllable followed by a stressed one (ta-DUM ta-DUM ta-DUM ta-DUM ta-DUM). This 10-syllable pattern is often likened to a heartbeat ↩︎
- an extended, uninterrupted speech by a single character, used to reveal inner thoughts, narrate a story, or directly address an audience or another character. ↩︎
- The poem is set in 16th-century Italy, specifically in Ferrara, a city-state known for its art and culture. The character of the Duke is loosely based on Alfonso II d’Este, the Duke of Ferrara (1533–1598). ↩︎
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