Friday, October 25, 2013

My Last Duchess


Sir, ’twas not
Her husband’s presence only, called that spot
Of joy into the Duchess’ cheek: perhaps
Frà 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.


from My Last Duchess by Robert Browning

4 comments:

chickelit said...

As Instapundit might say:
Read The Whole Thing

Eric the Fruit Bat said...

Bernadette was in a hospital quarantine so Wolowitz had to make the best of it and he set up on the other side of the glass, together with the others, and he sang her the quirky love song he'd written just for her.

The song was tender, funny, and actually quite clever, I thought. Stuff like that usually embarasses me but I was able to watch the whole thing.

It helped that the director put Penny's hot bod on full display behind Wolowitz as he sat at the keyboard.

ricpic said...

The Divine Raphael.

But who needs Raphael when we've got Banksy!

Simon Kenton said...

An extraordinary self-portrait of a sinister and ghastly human being, conveying a Tarquinian warning through an ambassador.