That's my last Duchess painted on the wall,Looking as if she were alive. I callThat piece a wonder, now: Frà Pandolf's handsWorked busily a day, and there she stands.Will 't please you sit and look at her? I said'Frà Pandolf' by design, for never readStrangers like you that pictured countenance,The depth and passion of its earnest glance,But to myself they turned (since none puts byThe 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 firstAre you to turn and ask thus. Sir, 't was notHer husband's presence only, called that spotOf joy into the Duchess' cheek: perhapsFrà Pandolf chanced to say, 'Her mantle lapsOver my lady's wrist too much,' or 'PaintMust never hope to reproduce the faintHalf-flush that dies along her throat:' such stuffWas courtesy, she thought, and cause enoughFor calling up that spot of joy. She hadA heart—how shall I say?—too soon made glad,Too easily impressed; she liked whate'erShe looked on, and her looks went everywhere.Sir, 't was all one! My favour at her breast,The dropping of the daylight in the West,The bough of cherries some officious foolBroke in the orchard for her, the white muleShe rode with round the terrace—all and eachWould draw from her alike the approving speech,Or blush, at least. She thanked men,—good! but thankedSomehow—I know not how—as if she rankedMy gift of a nine-hundred-years-old nameWith anybody's gift. Who'd stoop to blameThis sort of trifling? Even had you skillIn speech—(which I have not)—to make your willQuite clear to such an one, and say, 'Just thisOr that in you disgusts me; here you miss,Or there exceed the mark'—and if she letHerself be lessoned so, nor plainly setHer wits to yours, forsooth, and made excuse,—E'en then would be some stooping; and I chooseNever to stoop. Oh, sir, she smiled, no doubt,Whene'er I passed her; but who passed withoutMuch the same smile? This grew; I gave commands;Then all smiles stopped together. There she standsAs if alive. Will 't please you rise? We'll meetThe company below then. I repeat,The Count your master's known munificenceIs ample warrant that no just pretenceOf mine for dowry will be disallowed;Though his fair daughter's self, as I avowedAt starting, is my object. Nay, we'll goTogether down, sir. Notice Neptune, though,Taming a sea-horse, thought a rarity,Which Claus of Innsbruck cast in bronze for me!
HengHsiao
👑 My last duchess /Robert Browning/ 1842
費拉拉公爵準備再度結婚，為了確定嫁妝的數量，伯爵派了一位使者來談判;
公爵領著這使者觀看他的藝術收藏，中間有他的已故夫人的畫像。
勃朗寧是從使者的角度來創作這首詩。
整首詩是戲劇獨白形式 都是費拉拉公爵跟使者講的話～
已故的伯爵夫人就是Lucrezia de’ Medici（P2)
P3.費拉拉公爵
P4. 勃朗寧
《我的前公爵夫人》
我的前公爵夫人音容如舊入畫圖，在慘白的牆上
經大師手筆繪製，她的神情再現
請你跟隨畫像中光影的幻變，我將逐一介紹其精妙
因她眼底難抹去的情致
(除我以外，無人能將帷幕掀起)
讓人心生好奇卻不敢深入探究
為何這雙秋水常常泛起漣漪
先生，就連我在場時，
有一次大師描繪夫人畫作
偶然提到「夫人的手腕被遮蔽得太多了」以及
「凡俗顏料難再現夫人的風姿」
這場面話居然能使她愉悅！
她輕易的抹上微笑
她的心，她那顆心……
總到處尋找細微處去愛
先生，我夫人對每件事都一樣
我贈於她象徵寵愛的胸針、
西落時照耀的光輝、
陪伴她的遊走花園的白騾
這一切、這一切都使我夫人感動
她的感動彷若將我高貴悠久歷史的公爵府
置之與其他人平等
先生，我不願去指責夫人
這樣做會有損風度，尤其已無可挽回
因此我下達指示
這一切戛然而止
如今，她還是在那裡
現在，請您移駕
樓下的貴賓們還在等待著
相信您高尚的主人，伯爵大人不會拒絕
我對這樁婚事提出的嫁妝要求，
當然，他美貌的女兒才是我的心願
別客氣，我們一起下樓吧
最後請看這件珍貴的
海神馴服青銅鑄像
找了很多這個翻譯最好，
是出自這邊
episode.cc/read/flowersea880615/my.230429.005342/0
That's my last Duchess painted on the wall,Looking as if she were alive. I callThat piece a wonder, now: Frà Pandolf's handsWorked busily a day, and there she stands.Will 't please you sit and look at her? I said'Frà Pandolf' by design, for never readStrangers like you that pictured countenance,The depth and passion of its earnest glance,But to myself they turned (since none puts byThe 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 firstAre you to turn and ask thus. Sir, 't was notHer husband's presence only, called that spotOf joy into the Duchess' cheek: perhapsFrà Pandolf chanced to say, 'Her mantle lapsOver my lady's wrist too much,' or 'PaintMust never hope to reproduce the faintHalf-flush that dies along her throat:' such stuffWas courtesy, she thought, and cause enoughFor calling up that spot of joy. She hadA heart—how shall I say?—too soon made glad,Too easily impressed; she liked whate'erShe looked on, and her looks went everywhere.Sir, 't was all one! My favour at her breast,The dropping of the daylight in the West,The bough of cherries some officious foolBroke in the orchard for her, the white muleShe rode with round the terrace—all and eachWould draw from her alike the approving speech,Or blush, at least. She thanked men,—good! but thankedSomehow—I know not how—as if she rankedMy gift of a nine-hundred-years-old nameWith anybody's gift. Who'd stoop to blameThis sort of trifling? Even had you skillIn speech—(which I have not)—to make your willQuite clear to such an one, and say, 'Just thisOr that in you disgusts me; here you miss,Or there exceed the mark'—and if she letHerself be lessoned so, nor plainly setHer wits to yours, forsooth, and made excuse,—E'en then would be some stooping; and I chooseNever to stoop. Oh, sir, she smiled, no doubt,Whene'er I passed her; but who passed withoutMuch the same smile? This grew; I gave commands;Then all smiles stopped together. There she standsAs if alive. Will 't please you rise? We'll meetThe company below then. I repeat,The Count your master's known munificenceIs ample warrant that no just pretenceOf mine for dowry will be disallowed;Though his fair daughter's self, as I avowedAt starting, is my object. Nay, we'll goTogether down, sir. Notice Neptune, though,Taming a sea-horse, thought a rarity,Which Claus of Innsbruck cast in bronze for me!
2 days ago | [YT] | 27