In literature people rarely see eye to eye
Milton begins Paradise Lost Book I, promising to “justify the ways of God to men”, quickly
establishing his epic poem as rooted in debate. Accordingly, Book IX and X are pervaded by
argument and conflict, as is Webster’s The Duchess of Malfi. Whilst Milton writes amidst fierce
political and religious unrest during the Restoration, Webster’s play was created during a time of
relative peace and stability under the rule of James I. Though, one may expect Paradise Lost to,
therefore, explore discord to a greater extent, such concepts feature just as heavily in both. The
two works present conflicts within and between characters, suggesting that ‘people rarely see eye
to eye’ with not only others but often their own self. Beyond the texts, the stark contrast between
the writers’ portrayal of their female protagonists and diverging interpretations of critics,
suggests that argument and conflict pervade, yet are not limited to the confines of literature.
A significant source of conflict across both works is that of Eve and the Duchess, who seek to
assert bodily autonomy in the face of patriarchal oppression in Eden and Malfi. Eve indicates her
discontent with the enforced hierarchal norms, suggesting to Adam they “divide [their] labours”.
Her request is the source of much dissension between the pair, with Adam arguing that the “wife
safest and seemliest by her husband stays”, her departure leaving her “opportune to all attempts”
by the Foe. Conversely, Eve, directly echoing Areopagitica, puts forth the compelling argument
“what is faith, love, virtue unassayed/ Alone without exterior help sustained”; ironically Milton,
who appears to condemn Eve throughout the epic, imbues her voice with his own intelligent
reasoning against censorship of the press. This is indeed contradictory of critics such as Virgina
Woolfe who believe Eve to be Milton’s “bogey”, instead supporting Wilson’s view that he is “on
the side of the rebel”, thus indicating that argument and conflict extend beyond the bounds of the
poem itself. Nonetheless, Eve departs from Adam with “Goddess-like deport” and in doing so
defies God’s expectations of her to be a submissive wife “whose existence is defined by men”
(Whitfield). Similarly, the Duchess subverts her malign brother’s patriarchal decree that only the
“most luxurious will wed twice”, recasting her forthcoming ‘wooing’ of Antonio in the defiant
mould of a “Soldier…assay[ing] this dangerous venture”, an image that resonates with Eve’s
audacious entry into Eden “armed” with mere “gardening tools”. Both women thus seize upon an
agency categorically denied to most women of the 17th century, confronting patriarchal authority
with a striking, almost martial, heroism. Yet each text quietly undermines the very transgression
it stages: Milton’s narrative voice carries a subtly misogynist register, its mockery of Eve’s
domestic “weaponry” diminishing the grandeur of her defiance, whilst the Duchess’s
imperceptive dismissal of Ferdinand’s chilling warning - “this was my father’s poniard” –
portrays a recklessness that shadows her courage with folly. It is precisely in this tension
between heroic aspiration and its narrative or dramatic undercutting that both texts reveal
how even the most defiant acts of selfhood remain entangled in the conflicts that produce
them. Moreover, through initiating an exogamous ‘second marriage’ with her lowly steward, the
Duchess fractures the classist construct of the court which dictates that such hypogamy corrupts
“high blood” - thus evidencing her meritocracy does not see ‘eye to eye’ with the Aragonian
brothers' aristocratic worldview. Notably, Webster deviates from his source material, Painter’s
‘Palace of Pleasures’, wherein Antonio was highly ranked in the court; this deliberate choice to
make Antonio a steward further accentuates the Duchess’ negation, and therefore, her dissent
from hierarchal customs. Contemporary audiences likely resonated fervently with the Duchess
whose fate holds too familiar with the trials and tribulations of Lady Arabella Stuart and her
clandestine marriage with Sir William Seymour. Furthermore, the Duchess is utterly recalcitrant
Milton begins Paradise Lost Book I, promising to “justify the ways of God to men”, quickly
establishing his epic poem as rooted in debate. Accordingly, Book IX and X are pervaded by
argument and conflict, as is Webster’s The Duchess of Malfi. Whilst Milton writes amidst fierce
political and religious unrest during the Restoration, Webster’s play was created during a time of
relative peace and stability under the rule of James I. Though, one may expect Paradise Lost to,
therefore, explore discord to a greater extent, such concepts feature just as heavily in both. The
two works present conflicts within and between characters, suggesting that ‘people rarely see eye
to eye’ with not only others but often their own self. Beyond the texts, the stark contrast between
the writers’ portrayal of their female protagonists and diverging interpretations of critics,
suggests that argument and conflict pervade, yet are not limited to the confines of literature.
A significant source of conflict across both works is that of Eve and the Duchess, who seek to
assert bodily autonomy in the face of patriarchal oppression in Eden and Malfi. Eve indicates her
discontent with the enforced hierarchal norms, suggesting to Adam they “divide [their] labours”.
Her request is the source of much dissension between the pair, with Adam arguing that the “wife
safest and seemliest by her husband stays”, her departure leaving her “opportune to all attempts”
by the Foe. Conversely, Eve, directly echoing Areopagitica, puts forth the compelling argument
“what is faith, love, virtue unassayed/ Alone without exterior help sustained”; ironically Milton,
who appears to condemn Eve throughout the epic, imbues her voice with his own intelligent
reasoning against censorship of the press. This is indeed contradictory of critics such as Virgina
Woolfe who believe Eve to be Milton’s “bogey”, instead supporting Wilson’s view that he is “on
the side of the rebel”, thus indicating that argument and conflict extend beyond the bounds of the
poem itself. Nonetheless, Eve departs from Adam with “Goddess-like deport” and in doing so
defies God’s expectations of her to be a submissive wife “whose existence is defined by men”
(Whitfield). Similarly, the Duchess subverts her malign brother’s patriarchal decree that only the
“most luxurious will wed twice”, recasting her forthcoming ‘wooing’ of Antonio in the defiant
mould of a “Soldier…assay[ing] this dangerous venture”, an image that resonates with Eve’s
audacious entry into Eden “armed” with mere “gardening tools”. Both women thus seize upon an
agency categorically denied to most women of the 17th century, confronting patriarchal authority
with a striking, almost martial, heroism. Yet each text quietly undermines the very transgression
it stages: Milton’s narrative voice carries a subtly misogynist register, its mockery of Eve’s
domestic “weaponry” diminishing the grandeur of her defiance, whilst the Duchess’s
imperceptive dismissal of Ferdinand’s chilling warning - “this was my father’s poniard” –
portrays a recklessness that shadows her courage with folly. It is precisely in this tension
between heroic aspiration and its narrative or dramatic undercutting that both texts reveal
how even the most defiant acts of selfhood remain entangled in the conflicts that produce
them. Moreover, through initiating an exogamous ‘second marriage’ with her lowly steward, the
Duchess fractures the classist construct of the court which dictates that such hypogamy corrupts
“high blood” - thus evidencing her meritocracy does not see ‘eye to eye’ with the Aragonian
brothers' aristocratic worldview. Notably, Webster deviates from his source material, Painter’s
‘Palace of Pleasures’, wherein Antonio was highly ranked in the court; this deliberate choice to
make Antonio a steward further accentuates the Duchess’ negation, and therefore, her dissent
from hierarchal customs. Contemporary audiences likely resonated fervently with the Duchess
whose fate holds too familiar with the trials and tribulations of Lady Arabella Stuart and her
clandestine marriage with Sir William Seymour. Furthermore, the Duchess is utterly recalcitrant
