there) altogether passive. He hears his mistress's declaration just
as any other respectable youth might; is exceedingly astonished, and
a good deal frightened; has to be talked out of his fears till one
naturally expects a revulsion on the Duchess's part into something
like scorn or shame (which might have given a good opportunity for
calling out sudden strength in Antonio): but so busy is Webster with
his business of drawing mere blind love, that he leaves Antonio to be
a mere puppet, whose worthiness we are to believe in only from the
Duchess's assurance to him that he is the perfection of all that a
man should be; which, as all lovers are of the same opinion the day
before the wedding, is not of much importance.

Neither in his subsequent misfortunes does Antonio make the least
struggle to prove himself worthy of his mistress's affection. He is
very resigned and loving, and so forth. To win renown by great
deeds, and so prove his wife in the right to her brothers and all the
world, never crosses his imagination. His highest aim (and that only
at last) is slavishly to entreat pardon from his brothers-in-law for
the mere offence of marrying their sister; and he dies by an
improbable accident, the same pious and respectable insipidity which
he has lived,--'ne valant pas la peine qui se donne pour lui.' The
prison-scenes between the Duchess and her tormentors are painful
enough, if to give pain be a dramatic virtue; and she appears in them
really noble; and might have appeared far more so, had Webster taken
half as much pains with her as he has with the madmen, ruffians,
ghosts, and screech-owls in which his heart really delights. The
only character really worked out so as to live and grow under his
hand is Bosola, who, of course, is the villain of the piece, and
being a rough fabric, is easily manufactured with rough tools.
Still, Webster has his wonderful touches here and there -