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<h2> MY LAST DUCHESS </h2>
<p>
Ferrara<br/>
<br/>
That's my last Duchess painted on the wall,<br/>
Looking as if she were alive. I call<br/>
That piece a wonder, now: Fra Pandolf's hands<br/>
Worked busily a day, and there she stands.<br/>
Will't please you sit and look at her? I said<br/>
"Fra Pandolf" by design, for never read<br/>
Strangers like you that pictured countenance,<br/>
The depth and passion of its earnest glance,<br/>
But to myself they turned (since none puts by<br/>
the curtain I have drawn for you, but I)<br/>
And seemed as they would ask me, if they durst,<br/>
How such a glance came there; so, not the first<br/>
Are you to turn and ask thus. Sir, 'twas not<br/>
Her husband's presence only, called that spot<br/>
Of joy into the Duchess' cheek: perhaps<br/>
Fra Pandolf chanced to say "Her mantle laps<br/>
Over my lady's wrist too much," or "Paint<br/>
Must never hope to reproduce the faint<br/>
Half-flush that dies along her throat"; such stuff<br/>
Was courtesy, she thought, and cause enough<br/>
For calling up that spot of joy. She had<br/>
A heart—how shall I say—too soon made glad,<br/>
Too easily impressed; she liked whate'er<br/>
She looked on, and her looks went everywhere.<br/>
Sir, 'twas all one! My favour at her breast,<br/>
The dropping of the daylight in the West,<br/>
The bough of cherries some officious fool<br/>
Broke in the orchard for her, the white mule<br/>
She rode with round the terrace—all and each<br/>
Would draw from her alike the approving speech, <br/>
Or blush, at least. She thanked men—good! but thanked<br/>
Somehow—I know not how—as if she ranked<br/>
My gift of a nine-hundred-years-old name<br/>
With anybody's gift. Who'd stoop to blame<br/>
This sort of trifling? Even had you skill<br/>
In speech (which I have not) to make your will<br/>
Quite clear to such an one, and say, "Just this<br/>
Or that in you disgusts me; here you miss,<br/>
Or there exceed the mark"—and if she let<br/>
Herself be lessoned so, nor plainly set <br/>
Her wits to yours, forsooth, and made excuse,<br/>
E'en that would be some stooping; and I choose<br/>
Never to stoop. Oh sir, she smiled, no doubt,<br/>
Whene'er I passed her; but who passed without<br/>
Much the same smile? This grew; I gave commands;<br/>
Then all smiles stopped together. There she stands<br/>
As if alive. Will't please you rise? We'll meet<br/>
The company below, then. I repeat,<br/>
The Count your master's known munificence<br/>
Is ample warrant that no just pretence <br/>
Of mine for dowry will be disallowed;<br/>
Though his fair daughter's self, as I avowed<br/>
At starting, is my object. Nay, we'll go<br/>
Together down, sir. Notice Neptune, though,<br/>
Taming a sea-horse, thought a rarity,<br/>
Which Claus of Innsbruck cast in bronze for me!<br/>
<br/>
</p>
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