Robert Browning - My Last Duchess 汉译

Looking as if she were alive. I call

That piece a wonder, now: Fr Pandolf's hands

Worked busily a day, and there she stands.

Will’t please you sit and look at her? I said

“Fr 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                

Fr 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 pretence                      

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!