83. My Last Duchess-Ferrara

——R. Browning

Tht'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 favor at her breast,

The drooping 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 skil

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 command;

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!

83　我已故的公爵夫人——费拉拉[1]

勃朗宁

墙上挂着我已故的公爵夫人像，

画像栩栩如生，堪称绝世珍品。

佛拉·潘多夫的画笔忙活一天

才大功告成，让她在此立身。

阁下要不要坐下仔细看看？

我特意提及潘多夫，这是因为：

你这样的陌生人见了画中面容，

见了这无比深情而热烈的眼神，

都会转身对着我，（我现在

为你揭去画像上盖的布帷）

他们只要有胆量，一定会问：

画家怎么画得出这般眼神？

是的，并非你第一个这样相问。

先生，公爵夫人脸上那块红晕

并非单单为她的丈夫而生。

也许潘多夫就碰巧说过这话：

“披风将夫人的手盖住太多；

红晕向颈部褪去，隐隐约约；

那不是我们的颜料所能复制。”

她知道，这样的话出于礼节，

但也足以使她变得春风得意。

她这人——我怎么说她好呢？——

太爱听好话，太容易动感情；

见什么爱什么，眼珠转个不停。

先生，她就这个样！喜欢佩戴

我送的饰物，喜欢落日的余晖，

好事的傻瓜为她在园中折取

一支樱桃，或者让她骑白骡

绕园子走走——所有这一切

她都赞不绝口，至少闹个红脸。

她感谢人——这很好！但这感谢——

我不知她怎么谢，只是觉得

她把我给她的九百年的门第

等同别人的礼物。这点小过失

谁愿意追究？即便你口才甚好，

（我没口才）也犯不着跟她计较，

阐明你的意志，说，“我厌恶

你的这点那点；这是你的疏忽，

那是你的越轨。”——即便她愿意

从中吸取教训，不跟你争辩，

不为自己找借口，但即便如此，

我也觉得有失身份，不屑为之。

噢，先生，她爱笑，这没疑问，

只要我走过她身边；但对别人

她也笑脸相迎！后来我只好下禁令，

她的笑从此消失。如今她栩栩如生，

挂在这上面。请阁下起来，我们

还要下楼会见几个朋友。我重申：

伯爵——您的主人出名的慷慨大方，

关于嫁妆，我提的要求也颇正当，

他一定不会轻易予以拒绝；不过，

正如我当初所说，他漂亮的女儿

才是我追求的目标。先生，来吧，

我们一块下楼。看看这座雕像，

海神在驯海马，不愧为稀世珍宝，

这是京城的克劳斯用铜为我铸造。

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[1]此诗是一首戏剧独白诗，独白者为费拉拉公爵艾尔逢索（生于1533年），他25岁那年娶了佛罗伦萨公爵之女为妻，当时她才14岁。婚后第三年，公爵夫人去世，死因存疑。而后艾尔逢索公爵预备再娶，女方是奥地利的一位伯爵小姐。伯爵派来一位使者与公爵谈论这桩婚姻。公爵领使者观看他已故夫人的画像，此诗即为公爵在画像前对使者的“独白”。