My Last Duchess

My Last Duchess

—    Robert Browning

रॉबर्ट ब्राऊनिंग यांनी लिहिलेली My Last Duchess ही एक प्रसिद्ध ड्रॅमॅटिक मोनोलॉग प्रकारातील कविता आहे. संपूर्ण कविता ही एका पात्राच्या एकतर्फी संभाषणाच्या स्वरूपात मांडली आहे. या कवितेतील ड्युक एका पाहुण्याशी बोलत आहे, जो त्याच्याकडे पुढील विवाहाच्या वाटाघाटीसाठी आला आहे. मात्र, या बोलण्यातून त्याच्या जुन्या पत्नीबद्दल (डचेसबद्दल) आणि त्याच्या व्यक्तिमत्त्वाबद्दल धक्कादायक सत्य उलगडते.

ड्युक पाहुण्याला एका सुंदर पेंटिंगसमोर नेतो, जे त्याच्या माजी पत्नीचे (डचेसचे) आहे. हे चित्र प्रसिद्ध चित्रकार फ्रां पांडोल्फ यांनी रंगवले आहे. ड्युक फक्त निवडक लोकांनाच हे चित्र पाहण्याची संधी देतो, कारण तोच ठरवत असतो की कोणाला डचेसचा चेहरा पाहण्याची परवानगी द्यायची.

तो पाहुण्याला सांगतो की हे चित्र किती वास्तवदर्शी आहे—डचेसचे हसणे, तिच्या चेहऱ्यावरचा आनंद आणि तिच्या डोळ्यातील चमक अगदी जिवंत वाटते. पण जसजसे तो बोलत जातो, तसतसे हे स्पष्ट होते की त्याला पत्नीचे हे आनंदी, खेळकर आणि प्रेमळ वागणे पसंत नव्हते.

ड्युक सांगतो की डचेस प्रत्येकाच्या लहानशा कृतींने आनंदी व्हायची—तिला सूर्यप्रकाश, गोड बोलणारे सेवक, कोणीतरी तिला दिलेली एखादी छोटीशी भेटवस्तू यामुळेदेखील तिला हसू यायचे. मात्र, ड्युकला हे खटकत होते की ती त्याच्यासाठी वेगळी वागत नाही. तिचे हास्य आणि आनंद सगळ्यांसाठी सारखेच होते.

त्याच्या मते, पत्नीने फक्त त्याच्यासाठी आणि त्याच्या अधिकारासाठी विशेष आदर दाखवला पाहिजे होता, पण ती प्रत्येकाशी समान आणि स्नेहपूर्ण वागत असे. हे पाहून ड्युक अस्वस्थ झाला आणि त्याने तिला बदलण्याचा विचार केला.

तो स्पष्टपणे सांगतो की त्याला तिला थेट बदलण्यास सांगायचे नव्हते, कारण तो असा मानतो की एका उच्चवर्गीय व्यक्तीने अशा छोट्या गोष्टींवरून तक्रार करणे हे त्याच्या प्रतिष्ठेला शोभत नाही. त्यामुळे त्याने एक साधा निर्णय घेतला—"मी आज्ञा दिली आणि तिचे हास्य कायमचे थांबले."

या वाक्यातून सूचित होते की ड्युकनेच डचेसचा बळी दिला असावा किंवा तिच्या मृत्यूची व्यवस्था केली असावी. मात्र, तो या गोष्टीबद्दल पूर्णपणे थंड आणि निर्दयी आहे, कारण त्याला वाटते की त्याने काहीही चुकीचे केले नाही.

इतक्या गंभीर गोष्टी सांगूनही ड्युक आपल्या पाहुण्याशी सहज बोलत राहतो. तो विषय बदलतो आणि त्याच्या पुढच्या लग्नासंदर्भात बोलायला सुरुवात करतो.

यात एक मोठा विरोधाभास दिसतो—जो माणूस आपल्या पत्नीच्या मृत्यूविषयी इतक्या सहजपणे बोलतो, तोच आता पुढच्या लग्नाच्या तयारीत आहे!

ड्युक एक अहंकारी, निर्दयी आणि स्वतःला श्रेष्ठ समजणारा माणूस आहे. तो पत्नीला मारून टाकतो आणि तरीही स्वतःला निर्दोष मानतो. तो एका व्यक्तीचे आयुष्य संपवतो आणि त्यावर पश्चात्तापही करत नाही—ही गोष्ट कवितेला आणखी भयानक बनवते.

ही कविता केवळ एका व्यक्तीची कहाणी नसून पुरुषसत्ताक व्यवस्थेतील स्त्रियांच्या परिस्थितीवरही भाष्य करते, म्हणूनच ती आजही महत्त्वाची मानली जाते.

 

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Robert Browning was a famous English poet known for his dramatic monologues. Browning’s writing is often complex, but he had a great talent for storytelling and exploring deep emotions. Browning is considered as one of the great Victorian poets. One of his most famous poems is My Last Duchess. In this poem, a Duke (सरदार) talks about his late wife (मृत पत्नी) in a chilling way. The poem was published in his book ‘Dramatic Lyrics’.

Dramatic monologue is a type of poem written in the first-person form of speech by a single character. The speaker is speaking with one or many persons. It features some specific qualities like first person narration, and silent listener. It reveals the psychological insights (मानसशास्त्रीय ज्ञान) and the true personality of the speaker through his inner thoughts and feelings.

The poem, “My Last Duchess” is one of the perfect and finest examples of dramatic monologues. The poem is set in ‘Ferrara’ which was the capital of one province (प्रांत) of Italy. In this poem, the speaker is the Duke of Ferrara. He is talking with a messenger (दूत) of the Count. The messenger had come from the Count with a marriage proposal for the Duke. The messenger in the poem is a silent listener. Here, the Duke shows him his palace and at one place describes the painting on the wall. It is a portrait of his last Duchess (सरदार पत्नी).

The painting was wonderfully painted by Friar Pandolf. It is so wonderful as if the Duchess in the portrait appears alive (जिवंत). The Duke asks the visitor to sit and observe the painting carefully. The Duke describes the expressions and passions on the face of the Duchess in the portrait. However, he mentions that such courtesy (सौजन्य) of the Duchess was not limited to her husband only. It was meant for everyone. The Duke is displeased (असंतुष्ट) with the Duchess’ such kind of generous attitude. The Duke also complains that the Duchess was so free. She liked everything whatever she came across. She used to enjoy even the simplest things like sunset, riding on a white mule (खेचर), etc. She used to consider all the things equal. The Duke admits that she smiles whenever he passes her. But her smile was not special with her husband only. According to the Duke, it was meant for everyone. This was growing day by day. The Duke adds further. “This grew; I gave commands; / Then all smiles stopped together.”

The Duke ironically (उपरोधाने) points at the painting and comments that she looks as if she is alive. The Duke then requests the visitor to go back to the company. He tells the messanger that he is aware about Count’s prosperity (श्रीमंती) and generosity (उदारपणा). The Count won’t do any pretence for dowry (हुंडा). The Duke makes it clear that his object is the’ his fair daughter’ and not dowry.

In this way, without directly describing the Duke, the poem throws light clearly on his personality. The poem shows how the Duke was jealous, possessive, arrogant and cruel. The Duke sees his wife as something to be owned, just like the painting on the wall. He couldn’t control her while she was alive, so he got rid of her. The Duchess was kind to everyone, smiling and blushing at simple things. This angered the Duke, who wanted her to treat him as the most important person in her life. The Duke considers himself superior. He doesn’t directly say he had his wife killed, but he strongly hints at it. He expects his next wife to be more obedient.

Thus, My Last Duchess is a powerful poem that explores the dark side of human nature—especially themes of power and control in relationships. It remains one of Robert Browning’s most famous works because of its deep psychological insight and dramatic storytelling.

 

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Original Poem

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!

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