^»*1M»M(««^^ f'liCESS TmMM¥S^9^m^^ i f I) » » (J I I I t (? I Jl 1) I) *) LIBRARY OF CONGRESS, Chap. Copyright No. Shel£PIi.£i T 1 r^^\V4 UNITED STATES OF AMERICA, LONGMANS' ENGLISH CLASSICS EDITED BY GEORGE RICE CARPENTER, A.B., Professor of Rhetoric and English Composition in Columbia College. This series is designed for use in secondary schools in accordance with the system of study recommended and outlined by the National Committee of Ten, and in direct preparation for the uniform entrance requirements in English, now adopted by the principal American colleges and universities. Each volume contains full Notes, Introductions, Bibliographies, and other explanatory and illustrative matter. Crown 8vo, cloth. Books Prescribed for the i8gy Examinations. FOR READING. Shakspere's As You Like It. With an introduction by Barrett Wendell, A.B., Assistant Professor of English in Harvard Univer- sity, and notes by William Lyon Phelps, Ph.D., Instructor in English Literature in Yale University. Defoe's History of the Plague in London. Edited, with intro- duction and notes, by Professor G. R. Carpenter, of Columbia College. With Portrait of Defoe. Irving's Tales of a Traveller. With an introduction by Brander Matthews, Professor of Literature in Columbia College, and ex- planatory notes by the general editor of the series. With Portrait of Irving. George Eliot's Silas Marner. Edited, with introduction and notes, by Robert Herrick, A.B., Assistant Professor of Rhetoric in the University of Chicago. With Portrait of George Eliot. FOR STUDY. Shakspere's Merchant of Venice. Edited, with introduction and notes, by Francis B. Gummere, Ph.D., Professor of English in Haverford College. With Portrait of Shakspere. Burke's Speech on Conciliation with America. Edited, with introduction and notes, by Albert S. Cook, Ph.D., L.H.D., Professor of the English Language and Literature in Yale University. With Portrait of Burke. Scott's Marmion. Edited, with introduction and notes, by Robert Morss Lovett, A.B., Assistant Professor of English in the University of Chicago. With Portrait of Sir Walter Scott. Macaulay's Life of Samuel Johnson. Edited, with introduction and notes, by the Rev. Huber Gray Buehler, of the Hotchkiss School, Lakeville, Conn. With Portrait of Johnson. LONGMANS' ENGLISH CLASSICS— Continued. Books Prescribed for the i8g8 Examinations. FOR READING. Milton's Paradise Lost. Books I. and II. Edited, with introduc- tion and notes, by Edward Everett Hale, Jr., Pli.D., Professor of Rhetoric and Logic in Union College. With Portrait of Milton. Pope's Homer's Iliad. Books I., VI., XXIL, and XXIV. Edited, with introduction and notes, by William H. Maxwell, A.M., Superintendent of Public Instruction, Brooklyn, N.Y., and Percival Chubb, of the Manual Training High School, Brooklyn, With Portrait of Pope. The Sir Roger de Coverley Papers, from "The Spectator." Edited, with introduction and notes, by D. O. S. Lowell, A.M., EngHsh Master in the Roxbury Latin School, Roxbury, Mass. With Portrait of Addison. Goldsmith's The Vicar of Wakefield. Edited, with introduction and notes, by Mary A. Jordan, A.M., Professor of Rhetoric and Old Enghsh in Smith College. With Portrait of Goldsmith. Coleridge's The Rime of the Ancient Mariner. Edited, with introduction and notes, by Herbert Bates, A.B., Instructor in English in the University of Nebraska. With Portrait of Coleridge. Southey's Life of Nelson. Edited, with introduction and notes, by Edwin L. Miller, A.M., of the Englewood High School, Illinois. With Portrait of Nelson. Carlyle's Essay on Burns. Edited, with introduction and notes, by Wilson Farrand, A.M., Associate Principal of the Newark Acad- emy, Newark, N. J. With Portrait of Burns. FOR STUDY. Shakspere's Macbeth. Edited, with introduction and notes, by John Matthews Manly, Ph.D., Professor of the English Language in Brown University. With Portrait of Shakspere. Burke's Speech on Conciliation with America. Edited, with introduction and notes, by Albert S. Cook, Ph.D., L.H.D., Professor of the English Language and Literature in Yale University. With Portrait of Burke. De Quincey's Flight of a Tartar Tribe. Edited, with introduc- tion and notes, by Charles Sears Baldwin, Ph.D., Instructor in Rhetoric in Yale University. With Portrait of De Quincey. Tennyson's The Princess. Edited, with introduction and notes, by George Edward Woodberry, A.B., Professor of Literature in Columbia College. With Portrait of Tennyson. *:c* See list of the series at end of volume for books prescribed for i8gg and jgoo. LONGMANS' ENGLISH CLASSICS EDITED BY GEORGE RICE CARPENTER, A.B. PROFESSOR or RHETORIC AND ENGLISH COMPOSITION IN COIiUMBIA UNIVERSITY LORD TENNYSON THE PRINCESS LONGMANS' ENGLISH CLASSICS With full Notes, Introductions, Bibliographies, and other Explanatory and Illustrative Matter. Crown 8wo. Cloth. Shakspeee's Mebchant of Venice. Edited by Francis B. Gumniere,Ph.D., Professor of English in Haverford College. Shakspeee's As You Like It. With an Introduction by Barrett Wendell, A.B., Assistant Professor of English in Harvard University, and Notes by William Lyon Phelps, Ph. I)., Instruc- tor in English Literature in Yale University. Shakspeee's A Midsummee Night's Dream. Edited by George Pierce Baker, A.B., Assistant Professor of English in Harvard University. Shakspeee's Macbeth. Edited by John Matthews Manly, Ph.D., Pro- fessor of the English Language in Brown University. Milton's L'Allegko, II CoMus, AND Lycidas. Edited by William P. Trent, A.M., Professor of English in the University of the South. Milton's Paradise Lost. Books I. AND II. Edited by Edward Everett Hale, Jr., Ph.D., Professor of Rhetoric and Logic in Union College. Pope's Homee's Iliad. Books I., VI., XXII., and XXIV. Edited by William H. Maxwell, A.M., Ph.D., Superintendent of Public Instruction, Brooklyn, N. Y., and Percival Chubb, Instructor in English, Manual Training High School, Brooklyn. Defoe's History of the Plague in London. Edited by Professor G. R. Carpenter, of Columbia College. The Sie Rogee de Coverley Papers, from "The Spectator." Edited by D. O. S. Lowell, A.M., of the Roxbury Latin School, Roxbury, Mass. Goldsmith's The Vicae or Wakefield. Edited by Mary A. Jordan, A.M., Professor of Rhetoric and Old English in Smith College. Burke's Speech on Conciliation with Ameeica. Edited by Albert S. ('ook, Ph.D., L.H.D., Professor of the Eng- lish Language and Literature in Yale University. Scott's Woodstock. Edited by Bliss Perry, A. M., Professor of Oratory and Esthetic Criticism in Princeton College. Scott's Maemion. Edited by Robert Morss Lovett, A.B., Assistant Pro- fessor of English in the University of Chicago. Macaulay's Essay on Milton. Edited by James Greenleaf Croswell, A.B., Head-master of the Brearley School, New York, formerly Assistant Pro- fessor of Greek in Harvard University. Macaulay's Life of Samuel Johnson. Edited by the Rev. Huber Gray Buehler, of the Hotchkiss School, Lakeville, Conn. Ieving's Tales of a Teaveller. With an Introduction by Brander Matthews, Professor of Literature in Columbia College, and Exjjlanatory Notes by the general editor of the series. Webstee's First Bunker Hill Ora- tion, together with other Addresses relating to the Revolution. Edited by Fred Newton Scott, Ph.D., Junior Professor of Rhetoric in the University of Michigan. Coleeidge's The Rime of the Ancient Maeinee. Edited by Herbert Bates, A.B., formerly Instructor m English in the University of Nebraska. Southey's Life OF Nelson. Edited by Edwin L. Miller, A.M., of the Engle- wood High School, Illinois. Caelyle's Essay on Buens. Edited by Wilson Farrand, A.M., Associate Principal of the Newark Academy, Newark, N. J. De Quincey's Flight of a Taetae Teibe (Revolt of the Tartars). Edited by Charles Sears Baldwin, Ph.D., Instructor in Rhetoric in Yale University. Tennyson's The Princess. Edited by George Edward Woodberry, A.B., Professor of Literature in Columbia College. George Eliot's Silas Marner. Edited by Robert Herrick, A.B., Assistant Professor of Rhetoric in the University of Chicago. Other Volumes are in Preparation. ALFRED LORD TENNY.SON (After the painting by G. F. Watts) fco ngwaws' English Classics TENNYSON'S THE PRINCESS EDITED WITH NOTES AND AN INTRODUCTION GEORGE EDWARD WOODBERRY, A.B. PROFESSOR OF LITERATURE IN COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY ^UW NEW YORK LONGMANS, GREEN, AND CO. LONDON AND BOMBAY 1896 V Copyright, 1896 BT LONGMANS, GREEN, AND CO. All rights reserved Press of J. J. Little & Co. New York. U. S. A. PREFACE ^^The PriisTCESS" has been edited with elaborate and full notes by Prof. Percy M. Wallace (Macmillan), espe- cially for use in the schools of India ; and also by William J. Rolfe (Houghton, Mifflin & Co.) and Henry W. Boyn- ton (Leach, Shewell & Sanborn), especially for American schools. The notes of the three editions are largely, of necessity, the same in substance, but diif er in fulness and number. ^^ A Study of The Princess, ^^ by S. E. Dawson (Sampson, Low & Co.), is the original source of much of the better criticism of the poem in these editions, as well as in other books on Tennyson lately published. The biog- raphy of Tennyson has not yet appeared, and in lieu of it the best information about his personality is to be found in a few passages of Fitzgerald^s and Carlyle's " Letters, ^^ in Mrs. Anne Thackeray-Eitchie^s '' Records of Tennyson, Ruskin, Browning/^ and in Mr. Knowles^s reminiscences in the Nineteenth Century Magazine (1892-93) . Two volumes of criticism by Americans, E. C. Stedman^s '' Victorian Poets, ^^ and Dr. Henry Van Dyke^s '^^ Poetry of Tenny- son," deserve mention. A bibliography of Tennyson, very complete, by R. H. Shepherd, was recently published. In preparing the present edition, I have referred to most of tliese volumes, as well as to others dealing more gener- ally with Tennyson^s genius and work, and special obli- gations have been properly accredited in the places where they occur ; but it gives me pleasure to acknowledge gratefully the assistance I have derived from all of them. Gr. E. WOODBERRY. Beverly, Mass., August 37, 1896. CONTENTS PAGE Introduction ix Suggestions to Teachers xxv Chronological Table xxix The Princess : A Medley : Prologue o . . . . 3 1 15 II 25 III 45 IV 60 V 83 VI. . 102 VII 115 Appendix : Longer Notes : I. The History of the Poem 132 II. The " Weird Seizures " 133 III. The Songs 135 IV. Parallel Passages 137 V. Examinations 140 INTRODUCTION I. Alfeed Ten"KYSOK was born, if the usual statement is correct, on August 6, 1809, at Somersby, in Lincolnshire, England ; but the date in the parish register is August 5. His father. Dr. George Clayton Tennyson, commonly called ^^the old Doctor ,^^ was rector of the parish, and had twelve children, of whom Alfred was the third boy ; he was a learned man, and is said to have taken some share in the education of his sons. Tennyson's mother had greater influence over him, in forming his character ; in his verse he more than once bore tribute to her and drew scenes from his home-life. His two elder brothers, Frederick and Charles, were both poets of note in after- life. Charles, one year older than himself, was his favor- ite, and his constant companion ; they first attended a little school in the neighborhood, and then went to the Louth Grammar School, not far away, Charles in 1815 and Alfred in 1816 ; each was less than eight years old at entrance, and Charles left when he was thirteen and Alfred when he was eleven. This ended their schooling, and in the youthful years that passed before they went to college they appear to have lived a life of their own together at home. The whole family of boys at the rectory are roughly described as ^'^ running about from one place to another,^^ known to everybody, and with ways of their own ; '^ they all wrote verses, they never had any pocket- money, they took long walks at night-time, and they were decidedly exclusive '^ — such is the comprehensive char- acter that a contemporary neighbor gave them. Cer- X INTRODUCTION tainly Charles and Alfred wrote a good deal of verse together from the time when the latter showed his brother some lines written on a slate when the rest of the family had gone to church ; and in 1827^ the year before they left home for college, the two published a volume, called ^^ Poems, By Two Brothers/^ through a bookseller at Louth, who gave them £20 for it, of which amount a small portion was taken out in books. The sum of Tennyson's boyhood, then, is that he was well brought up in a culti- vated home amid a large family, and had some outside schooling at first ; but he grew, in close companionship with a favorite brother of the same tastes, to be very fond of nature and of books, and to express himself very easily and fully in writing verses. The whole family kept to themselves, perhaps, but no more than was natural in the circumstances of their position in a small rural com- munity ; but Tennyson himself, who was always a lover of privacy and solitude, was shy and retiring more than his brothers, and formed a habit of reserve that continued through life. In 1828 the brothers went up to Cambridge and entered at Trinity College. There Tennyson found Arthur Hal- lam, who, though two years younger, had come up at the same time, and the two formed the friendship which is now one of the landmarks of English poetry, and is commem- orated in Tennyson's greatest work, '^'In Memoriam.'^ They competed for the Chancellor's prize in poetry, and Tennyson won it, in 1829 ; in 1830 Tennyson published a volume in London, '' Poems, Chiefly Lyrical, '' and made a journey to the Pyrenees with his friend ; in 1831, owing to his father's death, he left Cambridge, without taking a degree, and in 1832 he published another volume, entitled '^ Poems.'' These two early volumes, though the personal friends of Tennyson supported him with their praise and belief in him, met with enough hostile criticism to put an end to his publishing for some years. He was very sensi- tive to what was said of him, and he said himself. ^' The INTRODUCTION xi Reviews stopped me." At the same time he met with his first severe experience of life ; in 1833, Arthur Hallam, who was travelling with his father, the historian, died suddenly in Vienna ; the shock to Tennyson was a great one, and the poem mentioned above, *^ In Memoriam," expresses his emotions and the thoughts inspired by them on the occasion of this bereavement, though he was long- in writing out the work, and it was not published till seventeen years after the event. It is plain that Arthur Ilallam's death closed the j)age of youth in the poet^s life. For ten years after the issue of the volume of 1832, Tennyson remained silent. They were years of work, nevertheless, and he was devoting himself to the art he had chosen to follow, and becoming a master of it. His life does not seem to have been happy ; he had scanty means, and he moved about from place to place in the country or in lodgings in London ; but he had the best of friends, if they were few, and was a much-prized companion to men like Oarlyle, Thackeray, Fitzgerald, in whose letters glimpses of him are found, and to others less widely known,- a circle of intimate and intellectual associates. In 1842 he again published a volume of poems, and from this dates his fame ; in 1850 he became the acknowledged head of English poetry, when he published ^^In Memoriam,'^ and was made poet-laureate. In the same year he married, and in 1853, soon after the birth of his son Hallam, he settled at Farringford, in the Isle of Wight, which is the place that will always be thought of and visited as his home, though he at a later time possessed another estate at Aldworth, in Sussex. For the rest of his long life he continued to write poetry — idyls, dramas, lyrics, poems of every sort. The most important of his longer works is '' The Idylls of the King," which tells the story of King Arthur's Knights of the Round Table ; but '' Maud," a lyr- ical love-drama, was, perhaps, his own favorite, and from it he used to read to his guests; and '^^ The Princess" xii INTRODUCTION contains many of Ms finest passages. He was a patriotic poet, also, and, as poet laureate, it was often his duty to speak for the nation on great occasions ; no poet has written so much, or more nobly, in honor of England. He was also a poet of friendship, and among his most characteristic pieces are those addressed to his companions in private life ; they are models of graceful compliment, true tribute, and affection, with warmth as well as refine- ment, both in phrase and feeling — the natural utterances of a poet's private life. But his verse is too voluminous and miscellaneous to be noticed here, even briefly, and the best of it everybody who reads books knows. He spent his life, otherwise undistinguished, in writing these many works, and was the greatest figure in English litera- ture, honored throughout the world. He once declined a baronetcy when it was offered to him, but in 1884 he consented to be made a peer. The close of his life was shadowed by the loss of his second son, Lionel. He died October 6, 1892, at Aldworth, and was buried in West- minster Abbey. II. ^' The Princess " is a narrative poem in blank verse. It is called ^^a medley ^^ because its matter is miscellaneous ; it blends so modern a thing as a woman^s college with so mediaeval an incident as a tournament ; it passes frequently from a farcical to a serious tone, and it takes its illustrative material from the art, history, and customs of every age and country. Its subject is the proper sphere of woman in liTe, and it deals more particularly with the modern educational ideals of woman and the practical questions to which these give rise ; and since, especially at the time when the poem was written, the matter could not be dis- cussed without some poking of fun and light ridicule, Tennyson has presented it in a partly burlesque dress. For this reason the poem is called also mock-heroic ; that INTRODUCTION xiii is, one in which the personages, the incidents, and the style are externally of the same sort as are usual in solemn epics, but the substance itself is beneath these, inferior in dignity, and really unheroic. The diversity which is caused in these several ways is emphasized by the variety of the poetic forms used throughout ; in the main, the verse is epical, as in the set speeches and the narrative, but it is also sometimes idyllic, as in the lament of Lady Psyche, and sometimes lyrical, as in the songs. This dif- ference in the parts, while it gives Tennyson greater op- portunity to display his powers in various sorts of work, confuses one^s ideas about the poem and makes it difficult to express them, since what is true of one portion is not true of another, and what pleases one reader does not please another ; hence, criticism has been more contra- dictory and uncertain in respect to it than is the case with any other of Tennyson's works. The story itself, the plot, as it is called, that is, the succession of events that determines the situations one after another in which the characters are set, is a simple one. A Prince of the North has been betrothed in child- hood to a Princess of the South, and has fallen in love with her picture, a lock of her hair, and the idea of mar- rying her ; but when the embassy is sent to bring her as a bride, word is returned that she is disinclined to wed and the contract appears to be broken. On this, the Prince with two friends, Florian and Cyril, set off secretly to seek her, and find on arrival at her father's court that she has set up a Woman's College in a palace at a distance ; they obtain letters authorizing them to visit her, and ride on to the boundaries of her lands, where they make up their minds to go in disguise, as girl students, and so explore the place at leisure and see what the adventure will end in. They put on women's garments, arrive at the gates, apply for admission, and are received. From this point the action is concentrated into three days. On the first they register as students of Lady Psyche, who xiv INTRODUCTION recognizes her brother Florian and agrees to keep the secret, inasmuch as the penalty of their being discovered is death, according to an inscription over the gates, which in the darkness they had not seen ; but a girl, Melissa, overhears them and is taken into the plot of secrecy, and her mother. Lady Blanche, the rival of Lady Psyche, discovers the matter also, and she keeps silence for reasons of her own. The second day is devoted to a picnic in the woods. At dinner Cyril sings a too mascu- line song, and the Prince, being angry, betrays the sex of the intruders by both a blow and a word ; confusion fol- lows, the Princess falls into the river in her flight, the Prince rescues her, and night falls on the scene. Cyril escapes with Lady Psyche, but Florian and the Prince are captured and brought before the Princess for judg- ment ; then, at the critical moment, despatches come from her father saying that the Prince's father has in- vested her palace with an army, taken him prisoner, and holds him as a hostage. The Prince pleads his suit in vain, and he and his friend are thrust out of the gates at dawn and go to the camp. Meanwhile, during the night, the Princess's three brothers have come to her relief with an army ; and it is agreed to settle the trouble by a tour- nament between these brothers and the Prince and his two friends, each with a party — fifty on a side. This is the event of the third day. In the fight the Prince and his party are overthrown, and himself dangerously hurt. On the field the Princess decides to convert the college into a hospital for her wounded friends, and she at last directs that the wounded of the opposite party shall be admitted also, with the Prince himself. Here the rapid action ends, and the time of the poem continues through the days of illness and convalescence, and concludes with the yielding of the Princess, who had come to love the Prince in caring for him. From this outline it will be seen there is a connected story ; but it is regarded as a weak one. This is partly INTR OD UCTION XV because of the obvious absurdity and transparent unreality of the incidents ; but something of the impression of weak- ness is due to the general tone or treatment. It is plain that the college is looked on somewhat as a joke ; and the Princess disgraceful trick can be saved from contempt only by considering it as a prank ; in certain parts, such as the conversation of the host^ the expulsion of the Prince^ and the return to the camp, the poem touches mere burlesque. Throughout there is the suggestion of comic opera, with very beautiful scenery, tableaux of girls in crowds, a glittering combat, and the rest. An important defect in the action, as it would generally be considered, demands especial attention. This is the fact that the controlling element in the plot lies outside the story as it is told above. The Princess does not yield because of anything that the Prince or anyone else does or says ; she yields because she feels nature stirring within her, the instincts of motherhood and the affections that cling about them. She begins to soften when she is caring for the child of Lady Psyche, Avhich has been left behind when the latter fled. This child is the true hero of the poem, as Tennyson liimself said ; the influence of the child masters the whole development of the story, so far as the chief issue, the winning of the Princess, is concerned, and is felt in the minor parts of the plot also. But the child is not a character ; it accomplishes nothing by its personal action ; it is not a child, but the child — that is, it is the symbol of the power of nature, being itself an embodiment of the domestic affections, and by its mere presence, its beauty, helplessness, and, in one word, its childhood, awakening emotion and guiding the way of natural love. This is the intention of the poet, and the meaning of the fact that he introduces the child into critical points of the narrative, as in the judgment scene, and uses it not only in the softening of the Princess's nature tow^ard the Prince, but also as an instrument in such lesser matters as the wooing of Cyril and the recon- xvi INTRODUCTION ciliation of the Princess with Lady Psyche. The main motive itself, which the child represents in the narrative, the domestic or nature motive, as you may prefer to call it, is echoed in all the intermediate songs, and so brings them also into the structure of the poem, and makes them an essential part of it, as is pointed out in the longer notes in the appendix to this edition. Now, one may say that this symbolical use of an infant for the nature-motive which dominates the story, is a defect in the plot, since it lies outside the action, in a true sense ; or one may say that it supplements the plot and enlarges its scope, heightens and betters it, by refer- ring the action to its sources in primary thoughts and feel- ings, and the fundamental power of nature in human life. Either of these is a correct view. But, perhaps, it may be better to observe simply that as the burlesque element in the poem centres in the feminine disguise of the Prince and his friends — they playing at being women in their clothes, as the women are playing at being men in their minds — so the serious element in the poem, its thought and spirituality, and its finer beauties of insight and feel- ing and emotional conviction, centres in the child. In this way one is enabled to keep the threads of this '^ med- ley '' somewhat more distinct, and see how they inter- weave in the unity of the whole ; for, though it is hard to grasp it, the poem is a whole. Apart from the plot, the characters individually should receive some attention. They are very simple characters indeed. The Prince himself is a conventional lover ; per- sonally he is amiable, gentle, and attractive, but he is a dreamer, and has taken no active part in the world ; he has only the beginnings of a man in him. His '^'^ weird seizures ^^ are spoken of in the longer notes ; but so far as he is concerned, they only emphasize the visionary and sensitive temperament that he always displays. It is, perhaps, worth while to notice that he has no touch of that wrath in love that Tennyson's more mortal lovers INTRODUCTION xvii are characterized by, in '' Locksley Hall," '' The Let- ters/' and "Maud/' On the other hand, he does not approach, as a type, the sighing youths of Shakspere, of whom the " gentle Romeo " is the lovely pattern. But, for all that, he sustains his simple part with much grace and pity, and shows a noble nature, and his eloquence deejiens and rings very true at the close. He is easily forgiven for his " saucy tricks," which were no more than the light-mindedness of a boy. His two companions belong to the same school ; they were youths, — Florian only his friend and "half -self," and Cyril the more vital and masculine wooer of Lady Psyche, in whose make-up there is, possibly, a thought of Romeo's Mercutio. The three women who take the corresiDonding leading parts are the Princess, Lady Psyche, and Lady Blanche. The first of these makes as doubtful an impression as does the Prince. It is as difficult for the poet to make her lovable as to make the Prinqe heroic. They knew her at home very well ; the description which her father first gives of her — "all she is and does is awful" — is true of her as she appears externally, and the phrase in which, toward the end, her favorite brother sums her up — " she flies too high " — will probably echo the reader's opinion ; it is only after the change in her that she appeals in a womanly way to our sympathy, and really interests us. Her figure itself, in the earlier part, always seems to have a pose ; she has the hardness and wilfulness of inexperi- ence ; and though her aims are high and her motives noble, the falseness that permeates her whole conception of life and duty is so apparent as to obstruct appreciation of her virtues ; it is not easy to present a character which is fundamentally in error as admirable. The scene in which her first character, as the Princess of the college, gives way — when she yields to the entreaty and remon- strance of all the others and restores the child, is recon- ciled to Lady Psyche, and opens her palace to the wounded of both sides — is the turning-point of her own career ; xviii INTRODUCTION and in her later character as the Princess of the sick- room, she is remade into true womanhood. Her two friends, like those of the Prince, are less complex. Lady Psyche is a good sister and mother, and joins very cheer- fully in wedlock with Cyril. Her desertion of her child is not to be too seriously considered in her disfavor, since it was plainly necessary to the maclmiery of the plot that the child should be left, and on her part she never showed any lack of tenderness or solicitude which would have made the act natural to her or truly characteristic. Lady Blanche is the villain of the piece, and drawn certainly with sufficient unamiability. As she could not wed with Florian, her daughter Melissa takes her place in the paii-- ing off of the leading characters. The contrast of the honesty of the men^s friendship among themselves with the treachery of that of the women is striking, but it is to be remembered that the foundation of the latter was wrong, owing to the false circumstances in which the women were placed ; it should not be inferred that Ten- nyson meant to Avrite slightingly of female as opposed to male friendship, nor should the comparison of his treat- ment of the subject with Shakspere^s be pressed. Of the remaining characters, only the two kings need be con- sidered. They also are a contrasted pair ; the Princess father a man of masculine self-assertion and energy, the Princess's a man of weak fibre and yielding policy ; and it is plain that the position of the women in his court, their having their way, is thought of by the poet as a result of his relaxed and inefficient character as a king. The two represent the extremes of man^s traditional policy toward woman, — severity and indulgence. The scenes, or situations, in the poem should be observed as points in the development of the narrative, but they require little remark. The principal ones are the king^s anger at the return of the embassy, with the dialogue; the recognition of Florian by Psyche, with its domestic con- verse ; the presentation to the Princess, which is nearly all INTRODUCTION xix speecli-making ; the ride, with the pleading of the Prince ; the supper, with its songs and catastrophe ; the judgment- scene ; the scene over the body of the wounded Prince ; and the concluding talk of the lovers in the sick-room. In all these the action is slight, the dialogue is rather orator- ical tlian dramatic, and the main effect depends on details of the setting and expression rather than on the power of single great emotions or the fatality of the event itself. In other words, the method followed is not that of great epic or dramatic art, but is of a different kind. From what has been said it is plain that neither the story, the characters, nor the situations constitute the greatness of this poem. Its excellence and interest must be sought elsewhere. Its true interest lies in the power with which it presents the ideal of wedded love in opposi- tion to a mistaken theory of woman^s life in the world. This ideal is not presented incidentally ; it is felt throughout, and it is stated fully and explicitly as the climax of the poem in the last speeches of the Prince. The problem dealt with arises in contemporary life in many forms. It is the question of the independent equal- ity of the sexes. Tennyson states it only partially ; but, so far as he considers it, he presents it in simple and large lines. The main idea of the Princess is that knowl- edge is the basis of man's superiority in the world, and that by the possession of knowledge woman would become in capacity all that man is. Her initial error is in ascrib- ing too great importance in life to knowledge. Knowl- edge is only one of the elements of power in life ; it is a |)art and not the whole ; and it results, if sought exclu- sively, in dwarfing both man and woman ; it makes man a i^edant and woman a blue-stocking. In following out her scheme for elevating woman, the Princess attempts to substitute knowledge for love as an end of life. Tenny- son, on the other hand, does not, in his criticism of the theory and practise of the Princess, present love as an alternative to knowledge, but as inclusive of it with other XX INTRODUCTION factors of life as means of a rich development of human nature in both man and woman, i He destroys the conflict which the Princess has set up between the two, knowledge and love, by allowing full scope to the former under the dominance of the latter ; and while he shows that love is an element in development that far exceeds knowledge in power and in richness of result, he shows also that knowl- edge is a strong ally and support to love in bringing out the full capacity of life. This is the reconciliation which he effects between the contending elements in the poem, and which the Princess asks for in pleading for some sym- pathy, in her new life of love, with her earlier aims and convictions. ^ The stress in the opening parts is laid upon knowledge, and in the later parts upon love ; the theme really changes from one into the other as the main subject of thought ; and the interest grows and is strengthened because the poet finds that the basis of love lies in nature herself, and he is enabled so to deepen and expand his argument as he goes on by calling to his support the whole power of nature, not merely in idea, but active in the characters themselves, constantly illustrated by their emotions and positions, enforced by the relationships of parent and child, brother and sister, as they are brought to bear on the actual state of affairs, and pleading trumpet- tongued on every side that the Princess turns. The voices of life, wherever they are heard in the poem, lift them- selves against her ; and it is to them, and to the voice that wakes in her own bosom, that she yields. ' It must be borne in mind, nevertheless, that she does not abandon the intellectual ideal of enlightenment for woman ; it ceases to hold exclusive and independent rule over her, but it takes a subordinate and partial place as contributory to the ideal of wedded love which becomes supreme over her life.*-' The Princess is not less than she was by the sur- render she makes ; but new opportunities of growth, and vastly greater ones in their power of ennobling, enriching, and enlarging her nature and giving happiness, are opened INTRODUCTION xxi to her and made her own.*' Such is the case as Tennyson presents it, even though some exception be taken to both his matter and his manner, inasmuch as, in matter, the only phase of knowledge he admits into the poem is that of its acquisition, not of its creative use, and as, in man- ner, his tone is one of perpetual irony toward the kind of knowledge which the '^ sweet girl-graduates^'' acquire, and of patronizing compliment to the girls themselves. He never allows the reader to forget for an instant the femininity of the pupils, in their costume, surroundings, habits of behavior, and general prettiness of effect to the masculine eye and fancy. His argument is enveloped in this atmosphere ; but it is a sound argument, both per- suasive and convincing, and in proportion as he draws nearer to the essential truths and the seriousness of that which he means to bear into the heart at last, this irony in the tone, this prettiness in the effect, this scarcely dis- cernible suppression of the smile, die away, and the con- cluding passages are wholly free from it, being noble, grave, and eloquent, as fine in feeling as they are lucid in truth. Such a theme, however, though handled with power and truth, might not have made the poem of enduring value. More than the truth of the argument, which might appeal to the mind only and be stated in prose, is the charm which makes the poem a masterpiece. ^' This charm lies in its beauty ; in mere beauty, independent of all other considerations, the poem is one of the richest in the English language. This beauty will be felt by stu- dents in different degrees, according to the openness of their minds to literature and their experience with its great works ; but it can be definitely thought of by all in various ways. It is characteristic of Tennyson that he is pictorial in his art ; he makes pictures in words, usually upon a small and highly finished scale. In this poem he particularly makes landscape pictures ; in fact, he con- stantly uses a beautiful landscape as the background of the action, and also in similes for illustration and ornament ; xxii INTR OB UCTION he describes it in broad or narrow limits of the eye, bnt always in clear and vivid detail, and he includes in it not merely effects of storm and sunshine, the open country, valley and cataract, woodland and lake and river, but also effects of architecture in the account of the palace and its gardens, and of sculpture and painting as acces- sories to the palace ; all this constitutes the outer scene, or stage-setting, of the action, and is as splendidly con- ceived as it is elaborately executed. The characters themselves and the mass of living figures, the swarms of girls and the press of men in the tournament, are also presented very often as pictures ; such are the form of Lady Psyche in the tent, of the Princess in the judgment scene, of the child in every instance, and, on the mere panoramic scale, the scenes of the gathering of the girls in their collegiate exercises. This is Tennyson^s method of work, and the number, the artistic power, and the various loveliness of these pictures make a large part of the beauty of the poem. In considering them the reader should examine the details, since Tennyson seeks usually not a vague general effect, but one which results from the union of parts, each of which is clear and distinct ; the minuteness of Tennyson's observation of small objects of nature and the accuracy of his eye should be noticed, and also the fact that he selects for his descriptive "detail the significant and characteristic feature of the object. But poetry does not merely use such imagery as this as a setting and adjunct to itself ; its method of expression always is through images rather than through thoughts ; and, apart from the general pictorialness that has been spoken of, the poem contains a multitude of images not only in the descriptive passages, but throughout. What woman has accomplished in the past, for example, is ])re- sented by placing before the eye statues and other artistic work representing the figures and the events ; and what love accomplishes in life is in the same way presented to the mind's eye in words in the songs that tell of a particular INTRODUCTION xxiii reconciliation of hnsband and wife, or of a particular wife mourning for her husband ; the regret for the past, which is an emotion, is expressed by a succession of beautiful and just images in "^ Tears, idle tears, ^^ and likewise the woo- ing of the lover in the charming image that concludes the lyric " Now sleeps the crimson petal " and in the unbroken succession of images in the succeeding idyl. It is this method that makes poetry different from prose in being usually briefer, more vivid, and more telling ; and Tenny- son is not only a master of it, but he is remarkable among poets even for the exactness, originality, and fitness of simile and metaphor, and in no poem of his are more single examples of such perfection to be found than here. If a word more be added to say that the melody of his verse-music is an aid to this beauty and a part of its charm, and that the literary excellence, the mere use of words, line by line, is another aid to it, and that this verse and line work constitute the surface polish of the poem, perhaps enough has been said to indicate to students in what specific places and ways to look to perceive and understand, as well as to feel, the beauty of the poem. This elaboration on the purely poetical side has been thought by some critics to overlay the work too ornately, and to conceal its weakness in structure and character. This is a view which can be taken only by those who find the poem lacking in unity and substance, and depreciate it on that ground. It is true that the structure is not simple and mechanical so that any one might at a glance discern its unity, and also that it presents so many phases as to confuse the student at first, but its many and various parts are united in novel and subtle ways beyond the power and above the faculty of any mechanic of literature ; like most of Tennyson^s longer and shorter works, except the briefest and most elementary, its unity is that of a con- voluted organism, but it is not less a complete whole on that account. The wealth of subsidiary matter, too, that which seems most loosely connected with the substance. xxiv INTRODUCTION is in the earlier portion, crowded with historical, mytho- logical, and scientific allnsion ; but this is because of the meagreness of the theme of knowledge in comparison with the intrinsic richness of the theme of love which fills the later portion with its own matter, and also because of the slightness of the dramatic action and inter- est of the characters before they are caught in the tragic coil of events. To me, though it is the beauty of the poem which makes it the masterpiece it is, and the truth of the doctrine which gives it substance and life, yet its highly organized and original construction seems not less manifest ; and in dealing with it analytically, part by part, as is necessary in an orderly presentation of its con- tents, I have had a constant sense that its perfection as a whole was being lessened to the mind ; yet this gradual understanding of the poem must be the lot of every reader ; part comes after part with more or less apprecia- tion, new phases appear in different moods and seasons and after the lapse of years, and it is only after many re-readings and long familiarity that the poem can be comprehended in its manifold nature as one entire and perfect whole. SUGGESTIONS TO TEACHERS It will be seen from the character of the notes^ and their being placed at the foot of the page, that the main object of the editor is to enable the student to arrive at the meaning of the text with as little difficulty as possi- ble, immediately, and without the intervention of dic- tionaries, encyclopaedias, or other books of any kind. If the poem is to be used as a means of education in litera- ture, primarily, it seems best to bring the student's mind into contact with it easily, and at once, without breaking the interest by the necessity of looking something up, or substituting a different interest of a historical or philolog- ical or scientific kind for the literary interest, or in any way interfering with the readiest reception of the con- tents of the verse. It is the peculiar aim of poetry to give pleasure of a particular kind ; whatever lessens that pleasure or destroys it, attacks the life of poetry at its source ; the intervention of books of reference at first between the meaning and the mind emphasizes the ob- scurity or unintelligibility of the poem and loads it with the weight of its worst fault ; such an appearance of difficulty in the reading should more especially be avoided in the case of young pupils, to whom the mere novelty and form of poetry usually offer hindrances which cannot be eliminated. Unless the student is pleased, and pleased in the way which belongs to poetry, he will neither under- stand, love, nor value it ; and nothing will deter him more surely from literature of any kind than the fact that he finds it either hard or tedious to get the sense of it. If this view of the matter be correct, the subsidiary elements in the poem should be kept secondary and sub- xxvi SUGGESTIONS TO TEACHERS ordinate in instruction. The allusions should be suffi- ciently understood to bring out their meaning in the text as illustrations of its thought, but they should not be made primarily opportunities for instruction in history, mytliology, or science. Similarly the use of archaic forms and unusual words, if they are understood, need lead to no further verbal or grammatical study, and parallel passages in other poets need not be referred to, if they throw no light upon the text. All these matters lie outside the study of literature, and are mainly elucidatory or curious ; for the young student the text itself offers sufficient material ; and these other studies, though valua- ble elsewhere and cognate here, are superfluous, and may be misleading to him in giving him a wrong impression of what the reading of poetry means. From the start the poetical nature of the work should be kept before the mind as the main thing. The student should be told that poetry differs from prose in its form, it is true, but not in good sense and intellectual and moral value ; that it is essentially a more effective form of expression, a better way of saying things, than prose is, for certain purposes, and that it must possess the virtues of good expression, simplicity, directness, power, and the like ; and, especially, that by the constant use of image and example it conveys its meaning more instantly, viv- idly, and powerfully, and in a more penetrating and last- ing manner, than prose, while it adds to this force an element of charm tlirough the beauty or suggestiveness of the imagery or the rhythm of the verse ; and, further, that where it does not use images, it is only a more melo- dious prose in fit, brief, and noble words. Such ele- mentary truths about poetry as these should be the foundation in the student's mind, and they should be illustrated by the plainest examples. It is necessary that he should know what a verse is, and that the pentameter is normally ten syllables, of which every second syllable is accented ; but that at times there may be more than ten SUGGESTIONS TO TEACHERS xxvii syllables, and the accent may be shifted to the other syl- lable ; further than this in the knowledge of metre it is not necessary to go. He should learn to read the lines with a sense of their equal time, and should understand that a line with extra syllables is to be read in the same time (without eliding any syllable, however), as if it con- tained only the usual ten ; otherwise he may lose the metrical effect of the hurried or checked lines, and with it the sympathy of the sound with the sense ; and he should know that such irregularities are not purposeless and at random, but are all intended. The power to read verse, with a correct sense of its time, is a considerable part of the knowledge and interpretation of poetry, and is a gauge of the student^s real acquisition ; it is not difficult to learu, and it may be easily encouraged and quickly developed by the recitation of passages set to be memo- rized. In this poem, the songs, the idyl, and the speeches of the Prince in the last part, especially that which describes his mother, should be so memorized. As a whole, the poem is one of difficulty to the young; its subject-matter is in advance of their experience of life, its structure is complex, and its art is of a subtle and deli- cate kind that is more effective in proportion as one's literary knowledge increases. In many ways it is not adapted to beginners in the study of literature ; but, on the other hand, its splendor of language, its eloquence, and its collegiate air recommend it ; and its beauty and truth can be pointed out, and the student can be led to perceive them, if not fully to comprehend them. In what way such guidance can be given is indicated in the Intro- duction. It may be added here that the wiser method may be to adapt one's instruction to Tennyson's own mode of work, and direct attention to the details, the lit- tle pictures, the more melodious and perfect lines, the noble sentiments, the apt similes, the eloquent passages, and so allow the composite general effect to grow of itself out of the definitely known and felt details. The whole xxviii SUGGESTIONS TO TEACHERS might well be read through once for these, and a second time for the general scheme and impression. The famili- arity which a second reading enforces would be a very great assistance in bringing about that ready receptivity and immediate response on the part of the student which seems to the editor the important matter. It is necessary to be patient with students of literature, at all times ; they cannot understand, except through their experience of life, for poetry can strike no chord that does not already tremble in the heart under the hand of life ; but as one grows, one is both more variously and more power- fully sensitive, and then literature gives up its meaning. Students may derive much or little at the time from such a work as " The Princess,^" but if what has been advanced above be right in thought, the best result will be a greater openness of the mind to the methods of appeal Avhich poetry uses, and regard for its emotional and spiritual power. It will matter little whether a student has gar- nered a good deal of curious and interesting knowledge about matters spoken of in the poem ; but if he has come to like and value ten lines of it only, that is the real gain, for they will be a standard of literature with him, a vital standard which has passed within and become part and parcel of his tastes. CHRONOLOGICAL TABLE XXIX CHRONOLOGICAL TABLE. [The following table includes, under "The Life of Tennyson," the principal biographical and bibliographical dates in his career, and under "Contemporary Literary History" the dates of the birth and death of his contemporaries in litera- ture, and of the first book (except in a few instances) published by them, so far as such dates fall within the period, 1809-1892. The table is based upon Eyland's "Chronological Outlines of English Literature," Whitcomb's "Chronological Out- lines of American Literature," Luce's "Handbook to Tennyson's Works," and Shepherd's " Bibliography of Tennyson." For further detail, especially in respect to private issues and poems contributed to periodicals Luce and Shepherd may be consulted.] The Life op Tennyson. 1811, 1816. Birth, August 6, at Somersby. Arthur Hallam born. Louth Grammar School. Tennyson leaves school. 1827. 1828. 1829. 1830. 18.31. 18.32. 1833. Poems by Two Brothers. Cambridge : Trinity College, Octo ber 28. Meeting with Arthur Hallam. Timbuctoo : Prize Poem. Poems Chiefly Lyrical. Journey to the Pyrenees, with Arthur Hallam. Death of Tennyson's father. Poems (dated 18.33). Death of Arthur Hallam, Septem- ber 13. 1837. The Tennysons leave Somersby. 1842. Poems. Contemporary Literary History. 1809. Mrs. Browning, Holmes, Poe, Dar- win born. Irving, Knickerbock- er's History of New York. 1811. Thackeray born. 1812. Robert Browning born. Byron, Childe Harold. 1813. Southey, Poet Laureate. Shelley, Queen Mab. 1814. Scott, Waverley. Wordsworth, The Excursion. 1816. Coleridge, Christabel. 1817. Keats, Poems. 1819. Kingsley, Ruskin, Lowell, born. 1820. George Eliot born. Cooper, Precau- tion. 1821. Keats died. De Quincey, Confes- sions of an Opium-Eater. Bryant, Poems. 1822 Matthew Arnold born. Shelley died. Lamb, Essays of Elia. 1824 Byron died. Landor, Imaginary Conversations. 1825. Macaulay, Milton. 1827. Poe, Tamerlane and other Poems. 1828. Rossetti born. Hawthorne, Fan- shawe. 1831. Whittier, Legends of New England. 1832. Scott died. 3. Carlyle, Sartor Resartus. R. Brown- ing, Pauline. 1834. Coleridge died. Dickens, Sketches by Boz. A. H. Hallam, Remains. 1837. Swinburne born. Emerson, Nature. Thackeray, Yellowplush Papers. 18.38. Mrs. Browning, The Seraphim and other Poems. 18.39. Longfellow, Voices of the Night. 1841. Lowell, A Year's Life. Newman, Tracts for the Times, No. XC. XXX CHRONOLOGICAL TABLE CHRONOLOGICAL TABLE.— Continued. The Life of Tennyson. Contemporary Literary History. 1845. Receives a pension, £200. 1847. Tlie Princess. 1850. Poet Laureate, November. In Me- moriam. Marries Emily Selhvood, June 13 ; resides at Twiclienliam. 1852. Ode on the Deatli of tlie Dulie of Wellington. Hallam Tennyson born, August 11. 1853. Removes to Farringford. 1854. Charge of the Light Brigade. Lionel Tennyson born, March 16. 1855. Maud and other Poems. D. C. L., Oxford. 1857. Enid and Nimue : or, The True and the False. 1 1859. [Four] Idylls of the King. Journey to Portugal, with Palgrave. 1861. Second journey to the Pyrenees. 1864. Enoch Arden, etc. 1865. Refuses a baronetcy. Death of Ten- nyson's mother, February 21. 1867. Purchases Aldworth, Sussex. 1869. The Holy Grail and other Poems. 1872. Gareth and Lynctte, and The Last Tournament. 1875. Queen Mary. 1877. Harold. 1879. The Lover's Tale. 2 The Falcon, acted at St. James's Theatre. 1880. Ballads and other Poems. 1881. The Cup, acted at the Lyceum Theatre. 1882. The Promise of May, acted at the Globe Theatre. 1884. Made a peer as Baron of Aldworth and Farringford. The Falcon and The Cup published. Becket. 1885. Tiresias and other Poems. 1886. Locksley Hall Sixty Years After. Death of Lionel Tennyson, April 20. 1843. 1844. 1848. 1849. 1850. Southey died. Wordsworth, Poet Laureate. Ruskin, Modern Paint- ers. Campbell died. Matthew Arnold, The Strayed Revel- ler and other Poems. Poe died. Wordsworth died. Rossetti, The Germ. 1851. Cooper died. 18.55. Kingsley, Westward, Ho ! 1858. George Eliot, Scenes from Clerical Life. 1859. Macaulay, De Quincey, Irving, died. Darwin, Origin of Species. 1861. Mrs, Browning died. Swinburne, Rosamund. 1863. Thackeray died. 1864. Landor, Hawthorne, died. 1865. Matthew Arnold, Essays in Criti- cism. 1870. Dickens died. Rossetti, Poems. 1875. Kingsley died. 1878. Bryant died. 1881. Carlyle, George Eliot, died. 1882. Darwin, Rossetti, Longfellow, Emer- son, died. 1 Privately printed, and published revised in Idylls of the King, 1859. 2 Written in 1828, printed and suppressed in 1833, and revised, printed, and sup- pressed in 1869, and now again revised and published, owing to the appearance of a pirated copy of the 1833 edition. CHRONOLOGICAL TABLE CHRONOLOGICAL TKBLE.- Concluded. XXXI The Life of Tennyson. 1889. Demeter and other Poems. 1892. The Foresters, acted at Daly's The- atre, New York, and published the same year. Death, October 6, at Aldworth ; buried October 12, in Westminster Abbey. The Death of ffinone, Akbar's Dream, and other Poems, October 28. Contemporary Literary History. 1888. Matthew Arnold died. 1889. R. Browning died. 1891. Lowell died. 1892. Whittier died. THE PRINCESS A MEDLEY THE PRINCESS A MEDLEY. Prologue. Sir Walter ViviAiq- all a summer's day Gave his broad lawns until the set of sun 1. The scene is here laid in the grounds of an English country- seat, said to be that of Sir John Simeon, at Swainston, which the owner had opened for the day to his tenantry and to the Mechanics' Institute of the neighboring borough, or town, for a field- meeting. The poet represents himself as visiting at the house with a party of college friends, who gather in the Abbey-ruin, and there tell the story of The Princess, each taking up a part in succession, in round-robin fashion. The Prologue is an introduction, of which the purpose is to open the subject, to provide the occasion and the scenery of the tale, and to give the atmosphere which shall envelop it, or the tone. The description of the landscape (54-80), with its medley of mimic experiments in popular science , its reflection of new conditions of common education, and its general air of novelty and contemporary change, gives the background of the smaller party in the Abbey-ruin, but also fit^y prepares the mind for the subjects of thought with which the poem deals. The description of the house and the Abbey- ruin, on the other hand, is more narrowly intended to lead up to the contrasts, the jumble of elements, and general miscellaneousness of the narrative itself. The actual scene has been assigned also to another locality. " I have every reason to believe that the mansion referred to in Tennyson's Priiicess belongs to the Lushington family, and is near Maidstone. I was present at a fete of the Maidstone Mechanics' Institute, and took part in several of the experiments referred to, and the description exactly agrees with what occurred " (quoted from an anonymous source in Walters's In Tennyson Land, 1890, pp. 28-29.) The poem is dedicated to Mr. Henry Lushington. 2. Lawns, open grassy lands, not the close-mown, well-kept lawn of American usage ; the former is usually plural, the latter singular. 4 THE PRINCESS [Prologue Up to the people : thither flock'd at noon His tenants, wife and child, and thither half The neighbouring borough with their Institute Of which he was the patron. I was there From college, visiting the son, — the son A Walter too, — with others of our set. Five others : we were seven at Vivian-place. And me that morning Walter showed the house, 10 Greek, set with busts : from vases in the hall Flowers of all heavens, and lovelier than their names. Grew side by side ; and on the pavement lay Carved stones of the Abbey-ruin in the park. Huge Ammonites, and the first bones of Time ; And on the tables every clime and age Jumbled together ; celts and calumets, Claymore and snowslioe, toys in lava, fans Of sandal, amber, ancient rosaries, 11. Oreek, of the Greek style of architecture. Set with busts, adorned externally with busts. 12. Names, botanical names of exotic fiowprs, but, though learned, not unlovely ; on the contrary, these names are often strange and beautiful, and this is the meaning here. 13. Pavement, the hall floor. The "carved stones" were not inlaid, but placed on the floor as in a museum. 15. Ammonites, fossil shells of a genus of cuttle-fishes, coiled and chambered like the nautilus. The largest are from three to four feet in diameter. First hones, fossils of other varieties. 17. Celts, stone or bronze implements, in shape like an axe or chisel, used by primitive man. Calumets, Indian tobacco-pipes, ornamented with feathers ; this pipe was a sacred utensil in the rite of making peace. 18. Claymore, the Highland heavy two-handed sword. Toys in, toys made out of. 19. Sandal, a scented wood of the Orient. These fans are elabo- rately carved. Rosaries, strings of beads used in prayer. Prologue] A MEDLEY 5 Laborious Orient ivory sphere in sphere, 20 The cursed Malayan crease, and battle-clubs From the isles of palm : and higher on the walls. Betwixt the monstrous horns of elk and deer. His own forefather's arms and armour hung. e And " this/^ he said, ''^ was Hugh's at Agincourt ; And that was old Sir Ealph's at Ascalon : A good knight he ! we keep a chronicle With all about him " — which he brought, and I Dived in a hoard of tales that dealt with knights. Half-legend, half-historic, counts and kings 30 Who laid about them at their wills and died ; And mixt with these, a lady, one that arm'd Her own fair head, and sallying thro' the gate. Had beat her foes with slaughter from her walls. " miracle of women," said the book, ^' noble heart who, being strait-besieged 20. Sphere, Chinese ivory balls, carved out of the solid, one inside another. This line is one of the most admired in Tennyson, both for its melody and for the sense that the sound conveys of the pre- ciousness of the little spheres and of their sliding movement one on another as they diminish in size within. 21. Crease, a heavy dagger called "cursed" because of the terri- ble gashed wound it makes, owing to its form ; it has a waved blade set in the handle obliquely. 22. Isles of palm, South-Sea islands. 25. Agincourt, a famous battle (1415) of the time of chivalry, in which the English overthrew the French. 26. Ascalon, a famous battle-ground (1099-1192) of the Crusades. The special reference may be to the last date, that of Richard Coeur de Lion's victory. 27. Chronicle, the older word for a history. Froissart's Chronicle is a good example, and is still interesting reading for boys of spirit. 31. Spent their whole lives in unrestrained warfare. 35. Miracle, a stronger word for marvel. The exact meaning is a woman so surpassing in character as to seem above the reach of nat- ure to produce, but only admiration is expressed by the phrase. 36. Strait, closely and hard. 6 THE PRINCESS [Prologue By this wild king to force her to his wish, Nor bent, nor broke, nor shunned a soldier's death, But now w^hen all was lost or seemed as lost — Her stature more than mortal in the burst 40 Of sunrise, her arm lifted, eyes on fire — Brake with a blast of trumpets from the gate, . And, falling on them like a thunderbolt. She trampled some beneath her horses' heels. And some were whelm'd with missiles of the wall. And some were push'd with lances from the rock, And part were drown'd within the whirling brook : miracle of noble womanhood ! " So sang the gallant glorious chronicle ; And, I all rapt in this, ^' Come out," he said, 50 " To the Abbey : there is Aunt Elizabeth And sister Lilia with the rest/' We went (I kept the book and had my finger in it) Down thro' the park : strange was the sight to me ; For all the slo^^ing pasture murmur'd, sown With happy faces and with holiday. There moved the multitude, a thousand heads : The patient leaders of their Institute Taught them with facts. One rear'd a font of stone And drew, from butts of water on the slope, 60 The fountain of the moment, playing, now A twisted snake, and now a rain of pearls. Or steep-up spout whereon the gilded ball 40. More than mortal, a phrase from the classics, equivalent to like a god. 42. Brake, broke. 57. The characteristic motion in a dense crowd is that of the heads. Notice throughout the following passage the attempt to heighten the prosaic detail of mechanical terms by the loveliness and color of the inserted iadjectives and phrases. 63. Steep-up, perpendicular, a Shaksperian word; the ball is kept in the air, supported by the stream. Prologue] A MEDLEY 7 -Danced like a wisp : and somewhat lower down A man with knobs and wires and vials fired A cannon : Echo answer'd in her sleep From hollow fields : and here were telescopes For azure views ; and there a group of girls In circle waited, whom the electric shock Dislink'd with shrieks and laughter : round the lake 70 A little clock-work steamer paddling plied And shook the lilies : perchM about the knolls A dozen angry models jetted steam : A pretty railway ran : a fire-balloon Rose gem-like up before the dusky groves And dropt a fairy joarachute and past : And there thro^ twenty posts of telegraph They flash^l a saucy message to and fro Between the mimic stations ; so that sport Went hand in hand with Science ; otherwhere 80 Pure sport : a herd of boys with clamour bowFd And stumpM the wicket ; babies roll'd about Like tumbled fruit in grass ; and men and maids Arranged a country dance, and flew thro^ light And shadow, while the twangling violin Struck up with Soldier-laddie, and overhead 64. Wisp, will-o'-the-wisp, the light seen in marshy places ; the metaphor is suggested by the motion and color of the ball. 66. Echo, personified as a nymph. 70. Dislinked. Dis — an alternative form for un — is coinmon in poetry. 74. Fire-halloon, one infl.ated with heated air by means of a burning ball attached to it underneath. 86. Soldier-laddie, ' ' My soger laddie is over the sea. And he will bring gold and siller to me," etc. A favorite Scotch song, printed in Allan Cunningham's Songs of Scotland, 1825, vol. ii., p. 297. Words (under the title of the Soldier Laddie) and music seem to have appeared first in Thomp- son's Orpheus Caledonius, 1725. Burns is responsible for the state- ment that the first stanza is old, known before Thompson's time, and 8 THE PRINCESS [Prologue The broad ambrosial aisles of lofty lime Made noise with bees and breeze from end to end. Strange was the sight and smacking of the time ; And long we gazed, but satiated at length 90 Came to the ruins. High-arch'd and ivy-claspt. Of finest Gothic lighter than a fire. Thro' one wide chasm of time and frost they gave The park, the crowd, the house ; but all within The sward was trim as any garden lawn : And here we lit on Aunt Elizabeth, And Lilia with the rest, and lady friends From neighbour seats : and there was Kalph himself, A broken statue propt against the wall. As gay as any. Lilia, wild with sport, 100 Half child half woman as she was, had wound A scarf of orange round the stony helm. And robed the shoulders in a rosy silk. That made the old warrior from his ivied nook Glow like a sunbeam : near his tomb a feast Shone, silver-set ; about it lay the guests, that the rest is by Ramsay. See Stenhousc, Illustrations of the Lyric Poetry and Music of Scotland, 1853, p. 310. 87. Ambrosial, fragrant. 89. The time, the contemporary age. The best poetic expression of the time that then was is in Tennyson's Locksley Ball, which is fully inspired with the larger excitement of "this march of mind." 92. Gothic, of Gothic architecture ; contrasted with the Greek as a perpendicular with a horizontal line, or as a cone with a cube ; the Gothic carries the eye up toward heaven, the Greek detains it within the limits of the building offered to its view ; the mood of the one is endless aspiration, that of the other is completely realized beauty and majesty. 93. Through the rent in the Abbey walls made by time and frost they disclosed. Notice the way in which the poet presents the outer landscape as framed in the ruined wall, and contrasts it with the small-scale picture within, though both are wrought out with equally careful detail. 98. Seats, country seats. Prologue] A MEDLEY 9 And there we join^I them : then the maiden Aunt Took this fair day for text, and from it preached An universal culture for the crowd, And all things great ; but we, unworthier, told 110 Of college : he had climbM across the spikes. And he had squeezed himself betwixt the bars, And he had breathed the Proctor's dogs ; and one Discussed his tutor, rough to common men, But honeying at the whisper of a lord ; And one the Master, as a rogue in grain VeneerM with sanctimonious theory. But while they talkM, above their heads I saw The feudal warrior lady-clad ; which brought My book to mind : and opening this I read 120 Of old Sir Ralph a page or two that rang With tilt aiid tourney ; then the tale of her That drove her foes with slaughter from her walls. And much I praised her nobleness, and " Where," Ask'd Walter, patting Lilian's head (she lay Beside him) ^Mives there such a woman now ?" Quick answer\l Lilia '' There are thousands now Such women, but convention beats them down : It is but bringing up ; no more than that : 108. This fair day, the holiday of the people, 111, 112, He . . . he, this one and that. The "spikes " are on the walls of the college garden ; the " bars " on the windows of students' rooms. [These and the following collegiate notes follow Wallace,] 113. Breathed the Proctor's dogs, tired out in the chase the Proctor's assistants who pursue students to arrest them, and are called in college slang "bull-dogs." The Proctor is a subordinate officer of college discipline. 114. Tutor, an officer in charge of both education and discipline, and adviser of students under him. 116. Master, head of a college. 128. Convention, the need of conforming to social rules and usages, of doing the conventional, that which all do, not because it is reasonable, but because it is usual. 10 THE PRINCESS [Prologue You men have done it : liow I hate you all ! 130 Ah, were I something great ! I wish I were Some mighty poetess, I would shame you then. That love to keep us children ! I wish That I were some great Princess, I would build Far off from men a college like a man's. And I would teach them all that men are taught ; We are twice as quick ! " And here she shook aside The hand that playM the patron with her curls. And one said smiling " Pretty were the sight If our old halls could change their sex, and flaunt 140 With prudes for proctors, dowagers for deans. And sweet girl-graduates in their golden hair. I think they should not wear our rusty gowns, But move as rich as Emperor-moths, or Ealph Who shines so in the corner ; yet I fear. If there were many Lilias in the brood. However deep you might embower the nest. Some boy would spy it."'' At this upon the sward She tapt her tiny silken-sandaFd foot : ^'That^s your light way; but I would make it death 150 For any male thing but to peep at us." Petulant she spoke, and at herself she laugli'd ; A rusebud set with little wilful thorns. And sweet as English air could make her, she : 141. Dowagers, wealthy widows of rank. Deans. The Dean is an officer at the head of the discipline, with other dignified duties. 143. Gowns, the black college gowns worn by English collegians. 144. Emperor-moths, " one of several large butterflies of the family Nymphalidae ; as, the purple Emperor, the popular name in Great Britain of Apatura Iris, also called the purple High- Flier.'' Cen- tury Dictionary. 153, 154. The two lines are a favorable example of Tennyson's " prettiness," and also of the playful condescension to girlhood which pervades the lighter parts of the poem. Prologue] A MEDLEY H But Walter haiFd a score of names upon her, And ^' petty Ogress/^ and *' ungrateful Puss/' And swore he longM at college, only longM, All else was well, for she-society. They boated and they cricketed ; they talked At wine, in clubs, of art, of politics ; 160 They lost their weeks ; they vext the souls of deans ; They rode ; they betted ; made a hundred friends, And caught the blossom of the flying terms. But miss'd the mignonette of Vivian-place, The little hearth-flower Lilia. Thus he spoke. Part banter, part affection. '' True," she said, " We doubt not that. yes, you miss'd us much. I'll stake my ruby ring upon it you did." She held it out ; and as a parrot turns Up thro' gilt wires a crafty loving eye, 170 And takes a lady's finger with all care. And bites it for true heart and not for harm. So he with Lilians. Daintily she shriek'd And wrung it. '' Doubt my word again ! " he said. *' Come, listen ! here is proof that you were miss'd : We seven stay'd at Christmas up to read ; And there we took one tutor as to read : The hard-grain'd Muses of the cube and square Were out of season : never man, I think. 161. Lost their weeks. An English undergraduate must be in actual residence at his college a certain number of terms as a condi- tion of receiving a degree. Residence for a term is determined by his presence at dinner in the college during a certain number of weeks. By absence, beyond a certain limit, "they lose their weeks ; " that is, they cannot count the term in which such absences occur as a part of their residence. 176. Head, the English college term for study. 178. Mathematics. 12 THE PRINCESS [Prologue So mouldered in a sinecure as he : 180 For while our cloisters echoM frosty feet. And our long walks were stript as bare as brooms. We did but talk you over, pledge you all In wassail ; often, like as many girls — Sick for the hollies and the yews of home — As many little trifling Lilias — play'd Charades and riddles as at Christmas here. And zvJiafs my thought and when and where and hoio. And often told a tale from mouth to mouth As here at Christmas/^ She remember'd that : 190 A pleasant game, she thought : she liked it more Than magic music, forfeits, all the rest. But these — what kind of tales did men tell men. She wonder'd, by themselves ? A half-disdain Perched on the pouted blossom of her lips : And Walter nodded at me ; '^ Re began, The rest would follow, each in turn ; and so We forged a sevenfold story. Kind ? what kind ? Chimeras, crotchets, Christmas solecisms, 180. Sinecure, a place yielding income without labor, such as many posts in state, church, and college have traditionally been, 181. Cloisters, covered walks adjoining the walls of a college, gen- erally about the inner quadrangle. 182. Walks, avenues of trees such as that at Magdalen, known as ** Addison's Walk." 184. Wassail, the old English word for pledging healths, meaning "be well," and hence a term for a party at which healths are drunk. 185. Hollies and the yews, the usual Christmas trimmings of an English home. 199. Chimeras, here a general name for fabulous monsters. The Chimera of mythology was a monster, lion in the front, goat in the middle, dragon behind; he was represented as breathing fire, and also as having three heads, the lion's, the goat's, and the dragon's. [Hawthorne's Wonder-Book.'] Christmas solecisms, extravagances ; a solecism, in this sense, is anything out of the usual. Prologue] A MEDLEY 13 Seven-headed monsters only made to kill 200 Time by the fire in winter/' '^ Kill him now^ The tyrant ! kill him in the summer too/' Said Lilia ; '^Why not now ?" the maiden Aunt. *^ Why not a summer's as a winter's tale ? A tale for summer, as befits the time ; And something it should be to suit the place. Heroic, for a hero lies beneath. Grave, solemn ! " Walter warp'd his mouth at this To something so mock-solemn, that I laugh'd And Lilia woke with sudden-shrilling mirth 210 An echo like a ghostly woodpecker. Hid in the ruins ; till the maiden Aunt (A little sense of wrong had touch'd her face With colour) turn'd to me with '' As you will ; Heroic if you will, or what you will. Or be yourself your hero if you will." "Take Lilia, then, for heroine" clamour'd he, "And make her some great Princess, six feet high. Grand, epic, homicidal ; and be you The Prince to win her ! " " Then follow me, the Prince," 220 I answer'd, "each be hero in his turn ! Seven and yet one, like shadows in a dream. — Heroic seems our Princess as required — But something made to suit with Time and place^ A Gothic ruin and a Grecian house, A talk of college and of ladies' rights, A feudal knight in silken masquerade. And, yonder, shrieks and strange experiments 204. A winter's tale. She alludes to Shakspere's play of that name ; cf. 231 below. 208. Warp'd his mouth, presumably at the unintended pun, just such a one as the college boy only could observe. 14 THE PRINCESS [Prologue For which the good Sir Ealph had burnt them all — This zvere a medley ! we should have him back 230 Who told the ' Winter's tale ' to do it for us. No matter : we will say whatever comes. And let the ladies sing us, if they will. From time to time, some ballad or a song To give us breathing-space." So I began. And the rest followed : and the women sang Between the rougher voices of the men, Like linnets in the pauses of the wind : And here I give the story and the songs. 229. Burnt, for witchcraft. L] A MEDLEY 15 I. A Prince I was, blue-eyed, and fair in face. Of temper amorous, as the first of May, With lengths of yellow ringlet, like a girl. For on my cradle shone the Northern star. There lived an ancient legend in our house. Some sorcerer, whom a far-off grandsire burnt Because he cast no shadow, had foretold, D3dng, that none of all our blood should know The shadow from the substance, and that one Should come to fight with shadows and to fall. 10 For so, my mother said, the story ran. And, truly, waking dreams were, more or less. An old and strange affection of the house. Myself too had weird seizures. Heaven knows what : On a sudden, in the midst of men and day. And while I walked and talk'd as heretofore, I seem'd to move among a world of ghosts, 1. The first speaker here begins the story, 7. Cast no shadow. The myth of the man who cast no shadow is not uncommon in modern Hterature. In the present instance the sorcerer had no shadow because he had sold his soul to Satan, on the theory explained in the following passage : "To understand the popular conceptions of the human soul or spirit, it is instructive to notice the words which have been found suitable to express it. The ghost or phantasm seen by the dreamer or the visionary is like a shadow, and thus the familiar term of the shade comes in to express the soul. . . . There are found among the lower races not only the types of those familiar classical terms, the sMa or umbra, but also what seems the fundamental thought of the stories of shadow- less [and hence soulless] men still current in the folklore of Europe, and familiar to modern readers in Chamisso's tale of Peter Schlemihl."— Tylor, Primitive Culture, 1871, vol. i., p. 388. 13. Affection, disease. 14. Weird seizures. See Appendix, II., The Weird Seizures. 16 THE PRINCESS [I. And feel myself the shadow of a dream. Our great court-Galen poised his gilt-head cane. And paw'd his beard, and mutter'd " catalepsy/" 20 My mother pitying made a thousand prayers; My mother was as mild as any saint. Half-canonized by all that looked on her. So gracious was her tact and tenderness : J3ut my good father thought a king a king ; He cared not for the affection of the house ; He held his sceptre like a pedant's wand To lash offence, and with long arms and hands Eeach^d out, and pick'd offenders from the mass For judgment. Now it chanced that I had been, 30 While life was yet in bud and blade, betrothed To one, a neighbouring Princess : she to me Was proxy-wedded-with a bootless calf At eight years old ; and still from time to time Came murmurs of her beauty from the South, And of her brethren, youths of puissance ; And still I wore her picture by my heart. And one dark tress ; and all around them both Sweet thoughts would swarm as bees about their queen. 19. Court-Galen, court physician. Galen was a Greek (area 130), and the name was long of great medical authority. The ' ' gilt-head cane " was characteristic of the physician in former times. 20. Catalepsy, the name of the disease attributed to the Prince. 33. Half-canofiized, respected almost as if she had been really placed in the canon, or catalogue, of the saints of the Roman Catholic Church. 27. Pedanfs wand, schoolmaster's rod. 33. Proxy-wedded, wedded with one who was the personal repre- sentative of the Prince, or his proxy. With a hootless calf. The representative of the groom placed his unbooted leg to the knee in the bridal bed. The ceremony so practised was a marriage. Its validity as a marriage, in the present case, was broken because the Prince and the Princess were not of an age to contract in the eyes of the law ; it could therefore be regarded only as an unusually formal betrothal. L] A MEDLEY 17 But Avhen the days drew nigh that I should wed, 40 My father sent ambassadors with furs And jewels, gifts, to fetch her : these brought back A present, a great labour of the loom ; And therewithal an answer vague as wind : Besides, they saw the king ; he took the gifts ; He said there was a compact ; that was true : But then she had a will ; was he to blame ? And maiden fancies ; loved to live alone Among her women ; certain, would not wed. - That morning in the presence-room I stood 50 With Cyril and with Florian, my two friends : The first, a gentleman of broken means (His father's fault) but given to starts and bursts Of revel ; and the last, my other heart. And almost my half-self, for still we moved Together, twinn\l as horse's ear and eye. Now, while they spake, I saw my father's face Grow long and troubled, like a rising moon, Inflamed with wrath : he started on his feet. Tore the king's letter, snow'd it down, and rent 60 The wonder of the loom thro' warp and woof From skirt to skirt ; and at the last he sware That he would send a hundred thousand men, And bring her in a whirlwind : then he chew'd The thrice-turn'd cud of wrath, and cook'd his spleen, Communing with his captains of the war. 53. Notice the characterization. Both Cyril and Florian remain to the end only what they are here stated to be — the first, a '* great- hearted gentleman," seeking to mend his means by a fit and ready wooing, yet without the baser touch of actual fortune-hunting; and the second a reflection of the Prince himself, his friend and other- self. The simile of the " horse's ear and eye " is, in its exactness, characteristic of Tennyson, but it is not noble. 62. Sware, swore. 65. Cook'd Ms spleen, a literal translation of a classical phrase 18 THE PRINCESS [I. At last I spoke. " My father, let me go. It cannot be but some gross error lies In this report, this answer of a king Whom all men rate as kind and hospitable : 70 Or, maybe, I myself, my bride once seen. Whatever my grief to find her less than fame. May rue the bargain made/' And Florian said : '' I have a sister at the foreign court. Who moves about the Princess ; she, you know. Who wedded with a nobleman from thence : He, dying lately, left her, as I hear. The lady of three castles in that land : Thro' her this matter might be sifted clean/' And Cyril whisper'd : ^^Take me with you too." 80 Then laughing " what, if these weird seizures come Upon you in those lands, and no one near To point you out the shadow from the truth ! Take me : I'll serve you better in a strait ; I grate on rusty hinges here : " but " No ! " Eoar'd the rough king, ^'you shall not ; we ourself Will crush her pretty maiden fancies dead In iron gauntlets : break the council up." But when the council broke, I rose and past Thro' the wild woods that hung about the town ; 90 Found a still place, and pluck'd her likeness out ; Laid it on flowers, and watch'd it lying bathed In the green gleam of dewy-tassell'd trees : What were those fancies ? wherefore break her troth ? Proud look'd the lips : but while I meditated, meaning nursed his ivrath, suppressing it until some action should be decided upon. 84. Strait, difficulty. 86. We ourself, the royal style of speech used throughout the poem by the Kings and the Princess. 93. Dewy-tasselVd, budding with catkins. [Hallam Tennyson's note in Wallace.] I.] A MEDLEY 19 A wind arose and rushed upon the South, And shook the songs, the whispers, and the shrieks Of the wild woods together ; and a Voice Went with it, ''Follow, follow, thou shalt win." Then, ere the silver sickle of that month 100 Became her golden shield, I stole from court With Cyril and with Florian, unperceived. Cat-footed thro' the town and half in dread To hear my father's clamour at our backs With Ho ! from some bay-window shake the night ; But all was quiet : from the bastion'd walls Like threaded spiders, one by one, we dropt. And flying reach'd the frontier : then we crost To a livelier land ; and so, by tilth and grange, And vines, and blowing bosks of wilderness, 110 We gain'd the mother-city thick with towers. And in the imperial palace found the king. His name was Gama ; crack'd and small his voice, But bland the smile that like a wrinkling wind On glassy water drove his cheek in lines ; A little dry old man, without a star, Not like a king : three days he feasted us, And on the fourth I spake of why we came, And my betroth'd. "You do us. Prince," he said. Airing a snowy hand and signet gem, 120 '^ All honour. We remember love ourselves 100, 101. The poets often reckon time in a primitive way by the natural phenomena of the year, season, month, or day ; the prose of the lines is before the new moon became full. 106. Bastion d. A bastion is a particular kind of fortification. 109. Tilth, tilled ground. Grange, an outlying farmed estate, with special reference to its cluster of buildings. 110. Bloiving bosks, blossoming wild shrubs in thickets. 111. Mother-city, the metropolis, or capital city. 116. Without a star, with no decoration of the orders of nobility. 120. Signet ge^n, a seal ring, the token of his authority and will. 20 THE PRINCESS [I. In our sweet youth : there did a compact pass Long summers back, a kind of ceremony — I think the year in which our olives faiFd. I would you had her. Prince, with all my heart. With my full heart : but there were widows here, Two widows. Lady Psyche, Lady Blanche ; They fed her theories, in and out of place, Maintaining that with equal husbandry The woman were an equal to the man. 130 They harp'd on this : with this our banquets rang ; Our dances broke and buzz'd in knots of talk ; Nothing but this ; my very ears were hot To hear them : knowledge, so my daughter held, Was all in all ; they had but been, she thought. As children ; they must lose the child, assume The woman : then. Sir, awful odes she wrote. Too awful, sure, for what they treated of, But all she is and does is awful ; odes About this losing of the child ; and rhymes 140 And dismal lyrics, prophesying change Beyond all reason : these the women sang ; And they that know such things — I sought but peace ; No critic I — would call them masterpieces : They mastered me. At last she begg'd a boon, A certain summer palace which I have Hard by your father's frontier : I said no. Yet being an easy man, gave it : and there. All wild to found an University For maidens, on the spur she fled ; and more 150 We know not, — only this : they see no men, Not ev'n her brother Arac, nor the twins Her brethren, tho' they love her, look upon her As on a kind of paragon ; and I 140. Losing of the child. Notice the phrase, which is a key-note of the poem: cf. also Frologue, 133. 154. Paragon, a model of perfection. I.] A MEDLEY 21 (Pardon me saying it) were much loth to breed Dispute betwixt myself and mine : but since (And I confess with right) you think me bound In some sort, I can give you letters to her ; And yet, to speak the truth, I rate your chance Almost at naked nothing." Thus the king ; 160 And I, tho' nettled that he seemed to slur With garrulous ease and oily courtesies Our formal compact, yet, not less (all frets But chafing me on fire to find my bride) Went forth again with both my friends. We rode Many a long league back to the North. At last From hills, that looked across a land of hope. We dropt with evening on a rustic town Set in a gleaming river's crescent-curve, Close at the boundary of the liberties ; 170 There, entered an old hostel, call'd mine host To council, plied him with his richest wines. And show'd the late-writ letters of the king. He, with a long low sibilation, stared As blank as death in marble ; then exclaimM Averring it was clear against all rules For any man to go : but as his brain Began to mellow, ^^If the king," he said, '^ Had given us letters, was he bound to speak ? The king would bear him out ; " and at the last — 180 The summer of the viue in all his veins — 161. Slur, pass over. 163. Frets, hindrances ; the underlying idea is that of friction, something against which one rubs in passing. 170. Liberties, an English legal term for adjacent privileged ter- ritory, here used of the outskirts of the estate within which the exclusive rights granted to the Princess were exercised. 171. Hostel, hostelry, or tavern. 174. Sibilation, not so loud as to be a whistle. 181. Summer of the vine, the genial heat of the wine. 22 THE PRINCESS [I. '^No doubt that we might make it worth his while. She once had past that way ; he heard her speak ; She scared him ; life ! he never saw the like ; She look'd as grand as doomsday and as grave : And he, he reverenced his liege-lady there ; He always made a point to post with mares ; His daughter and his housemaid were the boys : ' '' ■' The land, he understood, for miles about Was tilFd by women ; all the swine were sows, 190 And all the dogs '' — But while he jested thus, A thought flashed thro' me which I clothed in act. Remembering how we three presented Maid , Or Nymph, or Goddess, at high tide of feast. In masque or pageant at my father's court. We sent mine host to purchase female gear ; He bought it, and himself, a sight to shake The midriff of despair with laughter, holp To lace us up, till, each, in maiden plumes We rustled : him we gave a costly bribe 200 To guerdon silence, mounted our good steeds. And boldly ventured on the liberties. We foUow'd up the river as we rode. And rode till midnight when the college lights 186. Liege-lady, sovereign lady, the Princess. 187. Post, ride post or express ; that is, with relays of horses at fixed stations. 188. Boys, post-boys. 193. Presented, represented or played. 194. High tide, the height of the festival ; tide as in Yule-tide. 195. Masque or pageant, theatrical representations of a spectacu- lar sort, usually allegorical in character, with little action, — half- play, half-tableau, with songs and dances. The masques were espe- cially court sports, and the pageants had a more popular character. Milton's Comus is an example of a masque, and pageants are described in Scott's KenilwortJi. 198. Holp, helped. 201. Ouerdon, reward. L] A 3IEDLEY 23 Began to glitter firefly-like in copse And linden alley : then we past an arch. Whereon a woman-statue rose with wings From four wing'd horses dark against the stars * And some inscription ran along the front, But deep in shadow : further on we gain'd 210 A little street half garden and half house ; But scarce could hear each other speak for noise Of clocks and chimes, like silver hammers falling On silver anvils, and the splash and stir Of fountains spouted up and showering down In meshes of the jasmine and the rose : And all about us peal'd the nightingale, Rapt in her song, and careless of the snare. There stood a bust of Pallas for a sign, By two sphere lamps blazon'd like Heaven and Earth 220 With constellation and with continent. Above an entry : riding in, we calFd ; A plump-armed Ostleress and a stable wench Came running at the call, and helpM us down. Then stept a buxom hostess forth, and sail'd. Full-blown, before us into rooms which gave Upon a pillared porch, the bases lost In laurel : her we askM of that and this. And who were tutors. ^^ Lady Blanche ^^ she said, ''And Lady Psyche/' ''Which was prettiest, 230 209. Cf. II., 178. 218. Her. The male is the song-bird, but the poets, following mythological tradition, according to which the nightingale was originally a woman, do not hold to the fact. Here the lines sug- gest the condition of the maiden scholars within the walls, the snare being the presence of the Prince and his companions. 219. Pallas, goddess of wisdom, the patron of Athens. 220. Blazoji'd, pictured ; one, with the constellations, represent- ing the heavenly sphere, the other, with the continents, representing the terrestrial globe. 226. Oave, opened. ^4 THE PRINCESS [I. Best-natured ? " " Lady Psyche/' " Hers are we/' One voice, we cried ; and I sat down and wrote, In such a hand as when a field of corn Bows all its ears before the roaring East : '' Three ladies of the Northern empire pray Your Highness would enroll them with your own, As Lady Psyche's pupils." This I seal'd : The seal was Cupid bent above a scroll. And o'er his head Uranian Venus hung. And raised the blinding bandage from his eyes : 240 I gave the letter to be sent with dawn ; And then to bed, where half in doze I seem'd To float about a glimmering night, and Avatch A full sea glazed with muffled moonlight, swell On some dark shore just seen that it was rich. 338. Cupid, the winged boy, god of love, represented as bhnd. 239. Urmiian Verms, the heavenly Venus, or spiritual love. [Plato, Symposium.^ 244. 3Iuffled, shining through thin vapor with even, diffused light. The Prince's dream is meant to show the state of his expect- ant mind, and reflects his first impression of the " land of hope." II.] A MEDLEY ^5 II. As thro^ the land at eve we went, And pliick'd the ripen'd ears, We fell out, my wife and I, _ we fell out I know not why. And kiss'd again with tears. And blessings on the falling out That all the more endears. When we fall out with those we love And kiss again with tears ! For when we came where lies the child We lost in other years. There above the little grave, there above the little grave. We kissM again with tears. The song is sung by one of the women of the poet's party ; cf. Prologue, 236. See Appendix, III., The Songs. 26 THE PRINCESS [11. At break of day the College Portress came : She brought us Academic silks, in hue The lilac, with a silken hood to each. And zoned with gold ; and now when these were on And we as rich as moths from dusk cocoons. She, curtseying her obeisance, let us know The Princess Ida waited : out we paced, I first, and following thro^ the porch that sang All round with laurel, issued in a court Compact of lucid marbles, boss'd with lengths 10 Of classic frieze, Avith ample awnings gay Betwixt the pillars, and with great urns of flowers. The Muses and the Graces, grouped in threes, Enring'd a billowing fountain in the midst ; And here and there on lattice edges lay Or book or lute ; but hastily we past. And up a flight of stairs into the hall. 1. The second speaker here begins. 2. Silks, the scholastic gown ; cf. Prologue, 143. G. Obeisa?ice, a formal bow. 8. Sa7ig, murmured with the laurel's rustle. 10. Compact, solid. Boss'd, embossed with long slabs of marble carved in relief (the figures standing out like the "boss" of a shield), such as were used in the frieze of the Greek temple. The most famous example is the frieze of the Parthenon, the temple of Pallas Athene at Athens. 13. Muses and the Graces. The Muses, nine in number, Clio, Euterpe, Thalia, Melpomene, Terpsichore, Erato, Polyhymnia, Urania, Calliope, presided, each in her own province, over poetry, art, and science. They were of divine nature, and, with Apollo their leader, as the god of poetry, they stand for the higher activities of human life as their spiritual patrons. The Graces, three in number, Euphrosyne, Aglaia, and Thalia, were merely personifications of female beauty. 11. ] A MEDLEY 27 There at a board by tome and paper sat. With two tame leopards coiich'd beside her throne, All beauty compassed in a female form, 20 The Princess ; liker to the inhabitant Of some clear planet close upon the Sun, Than our man\s earth ; such eyes were in her head. And so much grace and power, breathing down From over her arcliM brows, with every turn Lived thro^ her to the tips of her long hands, And to her feet. She rose her height, and said : " We give you welcome : not without redound Of use and glory to yourselves ye come, The first-fruits of the stranger : aftertime, 30 And that full voice which circles round the grave. Will rank you nobly, mingled up with me. What ! are the ladies of your land so tall ? " '' We of the court '' said Cyril. '' From the court,'' She answerM, *^then ye know the Prince ?" and he : ^' The climax of his age ! as tho' there were One rose in all the world, your Highness that. He worships your ideal : " she replied : " We scarcely thought in our own hall to hear This barren verbiage, current among men, 40 Light coin, the tinsel clink of compliment. Your flight from out your bookless wilds would seem As arguing love of knowledge and of power ; Your language proves you still the child. Indeed, ' We dream not of him : when we set our hand To this great work, we purposed with ourself 31. TJiat full voice, fame. 35. Notice the instant curiosity of the Princess about the Prince. She is always ready to hear of him, and has evidently always had him in mind a good deal. 38. Your ideal, the image he has formed of you ; that is, " all he prefigured" (c/. III., 193). 44. Child, cf. I., 40. 28 THE PRINCESS [II. Never to wed. You likewise will do well. Ladies, in entering here, to cast and fling The tricks, which make us toys of men, that so. Some future time, if so indeed you will, 50 You may with those self-styled our lords ally Your fortunes, justlier balanced, scale with scale/^ At those high words, we, conscious of ourselves, Perused the matting ; then an officer Rose up, and read the statutes, such as these : Not for three years to correspond with home ; Not for three years to cross the liberties ; Not for three years to speak with any men ; And many more, which hastily subscribed. We enter'd on the boards : and ''Now,^' she cried, 60 '' Ye are green wood, see ye warp not. Look, our hall ! Our statues ! — not of those that men desire. Sleek Odalisques, or oracles of mode. Nor stunted squaws of West or East ; but she 48. Cast and fling, cast off and fling away. 53. Conscious of ourselves, abashed by the fact of their disguise. 55. Statutes, college laws ; cf. Shakspere, Love's Labor Lost, I., i. 60. Entefd on the hoards, the English college term for register- ing as undergraduates. 61. Our hall. Notice the universal allegory of a grandiose kind shown here and throughout the ideal decoration or mental furniture of the palace. Such statues, or portraits, are customary in English college halls, but their subjects are usually selected from the history of the college. 63. Odalisques, beautiful female slaves of a Turkish harem. Mode, fashion. 64. Sttmted squaws, women unnaturally deformed in obedience to a perverse custom or erroneous conception of beauty, such as the Flatheads of the North American Indians, or those of " little-footed China "(c/. II., 118). She, Egeria, a wood-nymph who gave laws to Numa Pom- pilius for the religious government of early Rome. He was the Sabine. II.] A MEDLEY 29 That taught the Sabine how to rule, and she The foundress of the Babylonian wall, The Oarian Artemisia strong in war. The Rliodope, that built the pyramid, Clelia, Cornelia, with the Palmyrene Tliat fought Aurelian, and the Roman brows 70 Of Agrippina. Dwell with these, and lose Convention, since to look on noble forms Makes noble thro' the sensuous organism That which is higher. lift your natures up : Embrace our aims : work out your freedom. Girls, Knowledge is now no more a fountain seal'd : Drink deep, until the habits of the slave. The sins of emptiness, gossip and spite And slander, die. Better not be at all Than not be noble. Leave us : you may go : 80 To-day the Lady Psyche will harangue 65. She, Semiramis, the famous legendary Assyrian queen said to have built Babylon. 67. Artemisia, the queen who fought at Salamis (480 b.c.) on the side of Xerxes. 68. Rliodope, an English literary form of Rhodopis, an Egyptian woman celebrated for the act here mentioned, though it was wrongly ascribed to her. 69. Clelia, a Roman heroine, who escaped from Porsenna, to whom she had been given as a hostage, by swimming the Tiber on horse- back. Cornelia (died circa 110 B.C.), daughter of the elder Scipio Africanus and the mother of the Gracchi, the ideal of Roman motherhood. Palmyrene, Zenobia, the queen of Palmyra, who was captured by the Emperor Aurelian (272), and brought to Rome in triumph. 71. Agrippina (13 B.C.-33 a.d.), an ideal Roman matron of the empire, granddaughter of Augustus, and wife of Germanicus, whom she accompanied on his campaigns in Germany. 72. Convention, the conventional ideal of womanhood, which these women surpassed. 73. Makes noble thro' the sensuous orga7iism,, a Platonic doctrine, often reproduced in poetry, that to look on beautiful things makes the soul itself beautiful through the eye. 30 THE PRINCESS [II. The fresh arrivals of the week before ; For they press in from all the provinces. And fill the hive/' She spoke, and, bowing, waved Dismissal : back again we crost the court To Lady Psyche's : as we entered in. There sat along the forms, like morning doves That sun their milky bosoms on the thatch, A patient range of pupils ; she herself Erect behind a desk of satin-wood, 90 A quick brunette, well-moulded, falcon-eyed, And on the hither side, or so she look'd. Of twenty summers. At her left, a child. In shining draperies, headed like a star. Her maiden babe, a double April old, Aglaia slept. We sat : the Lady glanced : Then Florian, but no livelier than the dame That whispered '^ Asses' ears," among the sedge, ^' My sister." " Comely, too, by all that's fair," Said Cyril. " hush, hush ! " and she began. 100 ^' This world was once a fluid haze of light, Till toward the centre set the starry tides, And eddied into suns, that wheeling cast 87. Forms, benches. The picture, the first of several such, though beautiful, has a touch of the condescension noticeable throughout the poem ; one easily sees in it " The hand that played the patron with her curls" {Prologue, 138). 90. Notice the feminine tastes displayed in all the material furni- ture of the palace, and associate it as a general trait with that noted in line 61 above. 93. A child. Notice the introduction of the child, an important element in the plot. See the Introduction. 97. The dame, the wife of Midas, who, unable to keep the secret confided to her by her husband, that he had asses' ears, told it to the water by the sedge. Rolfe quotes Chaucer, Wife of Bath's Tale, as the authority followed by Tennyson. 101-104. A brief statement of the theory of the evolution of the universe out of a nebular state. II.] A 3IEDLEY 31 The planets : then the monster, then the man ; TattooM or woaded, winter-clad in skins. Raw from the prime, and crushing down his mate ; As yet we find in barbarous isles, and here Among the lowest/^ Thereupon she took A bird^s-eye-view of all the ungracious past ; Glanced at the legendary Amazon 110 As emblematic of a nobler age ; Appraised the Lycian custom, spoke of those That lay at wine with Lar and Lucumo ; Ean down the Persian, Grecian, Roman lines Of empire, and the woman's state in each, How far from just ; till warming with her theme She fulmined out her scorn of laws Salique And little-footed China, touched on Mahomet With much contempt, and came to chivalry : 104. Monster, the vast animals of the early ages of the earth. 105. Woaded, dyed with the blue of the woad-plant, as the ancient Britons were. 106. Raw from the prime, just come into being, and untouched by any civility, the primitive barbarian ; the underlying suggestion is that this is man's true and original nature, fundamentally rude and brutal. 110. Amazon, a nation of female warriors of Asia Minor, cele- brated in Greek legendary history. 113. Appraised, estimated or weighed ; cf. (of a babe), Enoch Arden, "appraised his weight." Lycian custom, that of tracing descent by the female instead of the male line, in accordance with which family names were taken from the mother instead of the father. 113. The Etruscan women are represented in wall paintings as feasting with their lords. Lucumo was the title of an Etruscan noble, the head of his family ; Jjar, that of his eldest son. 117. Laws Salique. The Salic law excluded women from inheritance in land, and more particularly from the throne, in France. 118. Little- footed. The feet of Chinese women are artificially dwarfed. Mahomet, the prophet of Islam, or the Mahometans, in whose religion the place of women is low. 119. Chivalry, the times of the mediaeval knights, when the respect paid to women became devotion. 32 TEE PRINCESS [II. When some respect^ however slight, was paid 120 To woman, superstition all awry : However then commenced the dawn : a beam Had slanted forward, falling in a land Of promise ; fruit would follow. Deep, indeed. Their debt of thanks to her who first had dared To leap the rotten pales of prejudice, Hisyoke their necks from custom, and assert None lordlier than themselves but that which made Woman and man. She had founded ; they must build. Here might they learn whatever men were taught : 130 Let them not fear : some said their heads were less : Some men^s were small ; not they the least of men ; For often fineness compensated size : Besides the brain was like the hand, and grew With using ; thence the man's, if more was more ; He took advantage of his strength to be First in the field : some ages had been lost ; But woman ripenM earlier, and her life Was longer ; and albeit their glorious names Were fewer, scattered stars, yet since in truth 140 The highest is the measure of the man. And not the Kaffir, Hottentot, Malay, Nor those horn-handed breakers of the glebe, 126. Pales, fence : the word suggests also the sense of inclosiire or bound, and the force of the metaphor is to break the hounds of con- verition. 131. The heads of some men, and those not the least in intellectual power, were small; the fineness of the brain fibre and the intricacy of its convolutions make up for the mere size and weight of the brain; and hence the smallness of women's heads does not necessarily imply inferiority of intellect. A second consideration is that the brain grows with use, and man had the advantage derived from earlier and greater use ; but as women come to maturity earlier than men, and live longer, that lost time may be made up. This argument does not invite much consideration. The third point in favor of woman's mental equality with man is that her capacity is to be measured by that of the greatest of the sex, as man's is. 143. Horn-handed breakers of the glebe, peasants, clod-breakers. II.] A 3IEDLEY 33 But Homer, Plato, Verulam ; even so With woman : and in arts of government, Elizabeth and others ; arts of war. The peasant Joan and others ; arts of grace, Sappho and others vied with any man : And, last not least, she who had left her place. And bow'd her state to them, that they might grow 150 To use and power on this Oasis, lapt In the arms of leisure, sacred from the blight Of ancient influence and scorn. At last She rose upon a wind of prophecy Dilating on the future ; '' everywhere Two heads in council, two beside the hearth, Two in the tangled business of the world. Two in the liberal offices of life, Two plummets dropt for one to sound the abyss Of science, and the secrets of the mind : 160 Musician, painter, sculptor, critic, more : And everywhere the broad and bounteous Earth Should bear a double growth of those rare souls, Poets, whose thoughts enrich the blood of the world." She ended here, and beckoned us : the rest Parted ; and, glowing full-faced welcome, she Began to address us, and was moving on In gratulation, till as when a boat Tacks, and the slackened sail flaps, all her voice 144. Verulam, Bacon. Homer is here the measure of poetic power; Plato, of speculative philosophy; and Bacon, of experimental phi- losophy. 146. Elizabeth, Queen Elizabeth of England (1558-1603). 147. Joan, Joan of Arc (1412-1431). 148. Sappho, a Greek poetess (circa 600 B.C.). 149. Place., her position in the court. 156. Two heads, man and woman, instead of man alone. 166. Parted, departed. 168. Gratulation, congratulation. 34 THE PRINCESS [II. Faltering and fluttering in her throat, she cried, 170 '' My brother ! '' '' Well, my sister/' '' 0/' she said, '^ What do you here ? and in this dress ? and these ? Why, who are these ? a wolf within the fold ! A pack of wolves ! the Lord be gracious to me ! A plot, a plot, a plot, to ruin all ! '^ ^' No plot, no plot,'' he answer'd. " Wretched boy. How saw you not the inscription on the gate, Let no mak enter in on pain of death ? " ^' And if I had," he answer'd, " who could think The softer Adams of your Academe, 180 sister. Sirens tho' they be, were such As chanted on the blanching bones of men ?" " But you will find it otherwise," she said. " You jest : ill jesting with edge-tools ! my vow Binds me to speak, and that iron will. That axelike edge unturnable, our Head, The Princess." ^' Well then. Psyche, take my life. And nail me like a weasel on a grange For warning : bury me beside the gate. And cut this epitaph above my bones ; 190 Here lies a hrother hy a sister slain, All for the common good of ivomanhind.'^ '' Let me die, too," said Cyril, " having seen And heard the Lady Psyche." I struck in : '^ Albeit so mask'd. Madam, I love the truth ; 178. (7/. I., 209. 180. Softer Adams, the women who were trying to be all that men are. Academe, academy : the name suggests, in this form, Plato's academy, the source and pattern of the schools for higher instruc- tion and learning in ancient days. 181. Sirens, sea-nymphs who, by their singing, fascinated sailors and drew them to shipwreck on the island rocks. 188. Weasel on a grange. It was formerly a custom to nail on the barn-door any of the small wild creatures that commit petty depre- dations about a farm, as a warning to others of the species. II.] A MEDLEY 35 Eeceive it ; and in me behold the Prince Your countryman^ afiianced years ago To the Lady Ida : here, for here she was, And thus (what other way was left) I came/^ '' sir, Prince, I have no country ; none ; 200 If any, this ; but none. Whate'er I was Disrooted, what I am is grafted here. Affianced, Sir ? love-whispers may not breathe Within this vestal limit, and how should I, Who am not mine, say, live : the thunderbolt Hangs silent ; but prepare : I speak ; it falls." '^ Yet pause,^^ I said : ^' for that inscription there, I think no more of deadly lurks therein. Than in a clapper clapping in a garth To scare the fowl from fruit : if more there be, 210 If more and acted on, what follows ? war ; Your own work marrM : for this your Academe, Whichever side be Victor, in the halloo . Will topple to the trumpet down, and pass With all fair theories only made to gild A stormless summer." '' Let the Princess judge Of that," she said : '^ farewell. Sir — and to you. I shudder at the sequel, but I go." ^' Are you that Lady Psyche," I rejoin'd, '' The fifth in line from that old Florian, 220 Yet hangs his portrait in my father^s hall (The gaunt old Baron with his beetle brow Sun-shaded in the heat of dusty fights) 205. Who am not mine, who have no will of my own, being sub- ject to the Princess. 209. Clapper clapping, " A clack, or kind of small windmill, with a clapper set on the top of a pole, to frighten away birds. " Century Dictionary. Garth, enclosed fruit garden. 222-223. Beetle brow Sun-shaded, jutting eyebrows, so shaggy as to shade the eyes from the sunlight in a fight. 36 THE PRINCESS [II. As he bestrode my Grandsire, when he fell. And all else lied ? we point to it, and we say. The loyal warmth of Florian is not cold. But branches current yet in kindred veins/' " Are you that Psyche," Florian added ; " she With whom I sang about the morning hills. Flung ball, flew kite, and raced the purple fly, 230 And snared the squirrel of the glen ? are you That Psyche, wont to bind my throbbing brow, To smoothe my pillow, mix the foaming draught Of fever, tell me pleasant tales, and read My sickness down to happy dreams ? are you That brother-sister Psyche, both in one ? You were that Psyche, but what are you now ? '' " You are that Psyche," Cyril said, '^for whom I would be that for ever which I seem, AVoman, if I might sit beside your feet, 240 And glean your scattered sapience/' Then once more, " Are you that Lady Psyche," I began, '' That on her bridal morn before she past From all her old companions, when the king Kiss'd her pale cheek, declared that ancient ties Would still be dear beyond the southern hills ; That were there any of onr people there In want or peril, there was one to hear And help them ? look ! for such are these and I." ''Are you that Psyche," Florian ask'd, ''to whom, 250 In gentler days, your arrow-wounded fawn Came flying while you sat beside the well ? The creature laid his muzzle on your lap, 224. Bestrode, the characteristic posture as one stands over a fallen friend to defend him. 227. Current, flowing. 230. Raced the purple fly, raced witli {i.e., chased) the butterfly. 241. Sapience, knowledge ; the word is belittling, and has an accent of raillery. II.] A 31EDLEY 37 And sobbM, and you sobb'd with it, and the blood Was sprinkled on your kirtle, and you wept. That was fawn's blood, not brother's, yet you wept. by the bright head of my little niece. You were that Psyche, and what are you now ? " '^ You are that Psyche," Cyril said again, "The mother of the sweetest little maid 260 That ever crow'd for kisses.'' " Out upon it ! " She answer'd, " peace ! and why should I not play The Spartan Mother with emotion, be The Lucius Junius Brutus of my kind ? Him you call great : he for the common weal. The fading politics of mortal Eome, As I might slay this child, if good need were. Slew both his sons : and I, shall I, on whom The secular emancipation turns Of half this world, be swerved from right to save 270 A prince, a brother ? a little will I yield. Best so, perchance, for us, and well for you. hard, when love and duty clash ! I fear My conscience will not count me fleckless ; yet — Hear my conditions : promise (otherwise You perish) as you came, to slip away To-day, to-morrow, soon : it shall be said. These women were too barbarous, would not learn ; They fled, who might have shamed us : promise, all." What could we else, we promised each ; and she, 280 Like some wild creature newly-caged, commenced 255. Kirtle, gown. 263. Spartan 3IotJier with emotion, stamp emotion out ; a Spartan mother woukl sacrifice all personal affection for public duty. 264. Lucius Junius Brutus, the estabUsher of the Koman Repubhc; when consul (509 b.c.) he condemned his sons to death for conspiring to restore the Tarquins to the throne, whence he had expelled them. 269. Secular, lasting for ages (contrasted with line 266). 270. Half, the woman-half. 38 THE PRINCESS [II. A to-and-fro, so pacing till she paused By Florian ; holding out her lily arms. Took both his hands, and smiling faintly said : " I knew you at the first : tho' you have grown You scarce have altered : I am sad and glad To see you, Florian. /give thee to death,. My brother ! it was duty spoke, not I. My needful seeming harshness, pardon it. Our mother, is she well ?" With that she kiss'd 290 His forehead, then, a moment after, clung About him, and betwixt them blossom'd up From out a common vein of memory Sweet household talk, and phrases of the hearth. And far allusion, till the gracious dews Began to glisten and to fall : and while They stood, so rapt, we gazing, came a voice, ^^I brought a message here from Lady Blanche/" Back started she, and turning round we saw The Lady Blanche^s daughter where she stood, 300 Melissa, with her hand upon the lock, A rosy blonde, and in a college gown. That clad her like an April daffodilly (Her mother^s colour) with her lips apart. And all her thoughts as fair within her eyes As bottom agates seen to wave and float In crystal currents of clear morning seas. So stood that same fair creature at the door. Then Lady Psyche, '^ Ah — Melissa — you ! You heard us?"" and Melissa, " pardon me 310 I heard, I could not help it, did not wish : But, dearest Lady, pray you fear me not, Nor think I bear that heart within my breast. To give three gallant gentlemen to death." 304. The color worn by Lady Blanche's pupils. II.i A MF.DLEY 39 '^I trust you/' said the other, '^^for we two Were always friends, none closer, elm and vine : But yet your mother's jealous temperament — Let not your prudence, dearest, drowse, or prove The Danaid of a leaky vase, for fear This whole foundation ruin, and I lose 320 My honour, these their lives." ^'' Ah, fear me not," Replied Melissa ; "no — I would not tell. No, not for all Aspasia's cleverness, No, not to answer. Madam, all those hard things That Sheba came to ask of Solomon." "Be it so" the other, "that we still may lead The new light up, and culminate in peace, For Solomon may come to Sheba yet." Said Cyril, "Madam, he the wisest man Feasted the woman wisest then, in halls 330 Of Lebanonian cedar : nor should you (Tho' Madam you should answer, we would ask) Less welcome find among us, if you came Among us, debtors for our lives to you. Myself for something more." He said not what. But "Thanks," she answer'd ; " Go : we have been too long Together; keep your hoods about the face; They do so that affect abstraction here. 316. Elm and vine, like the elm and the vine that clings about it. 319. Danaid of a leaky vase. The Danai'des were the fifty daughters of Danaiis, who killed their husbands; in Hades they have for punish- ment the task of eternally pouring water into sieves. The sense is, do not be one to let the secret leak out. 820. ^Y^lole foimdation ruin, the college and its purpose be ruined. 333. Aspasia (440 b. c), the most famous intellectual woman of Greece, the friend of Pericles, and the centre of the group about him in Athens. 325. Sheba. The Queen of Sheba visited Solomon because of his wisdom. 1 Kings x. 1-13 ; 2 Chronicles ix. 1-12, 335. Something more, his love for her. 338. Affect abstraction, pretend to be absorbed in thought and study. 40 THE PRINCESS [II. Speak little ; mix not with the rest ; and hold Your promise : all, I trust, may yet be well/^ 340 We turned to go, but Cyril took the child. And held her round the knees against his waist. And blew the swoU'n cheek of a trumpeter. While Psyche watch'd them, smiling, and the child Push'd her flat hand against his face and-lauglrd; And thus our conference closed. And then we strolFd For half the day thro' stately theatres BenchM crescent- wise. In each we sat, we heard The grave Professor. Ou the lecture slate The circle rounded under female hands 350 With flawless demonstration : followed then A classic lecture, rich in sentiment. With scraps of thundrous Epic lilted out By violet-hooded Doctors, elegies And quoted odes, and jewels five- words-long That on the stretched forefinger of all Time Sparkle for ever : then we dipt in all That treats of whatsoever is, the state. The total chronicles of man, the mind. The morals, something of the frame, the rock, 360 The star, the bird, the fish, the shell, the flower, 348. Bench'd crescent-ivise, each row of seats like a crescent, as in ordinary theatres. 350. Circle rounded, in mathematical demonstrations. 353. Lilted, intoned or spoken with a chanting voice. 355. Jeivels five-ivords-long , short, immortal phrases, perfect in expression, which are well known ; such as are to be found in Shak- spere, Virgil, or other poets. 357-59. All, universal knowledge, politics, history, metaphysics, ethics. 360-62. Frame, the universal physical frame of things ; and, in detail, the sciences, geology, astronomy, ornithology, ichthyology, conchology, botany, electricity, chemistry, and the rest. Wallace explains /rawe as man's frame, i. e., physiology. II.] A MEDLEY 41 Electric, cliemic laws, and all the rest, And whatsoever can be taught and known ; Till like three horses that have broken fence. And glutted all night long breast-deep in corn. We issued gorged witli knowledge, and I spoke : *' Why, Sirs, they do all this as well as we." '^ They hunt old trails^' said Cyril '' very well ; But when did woman ever yet invent ? " '' Ungracious ! " answer'd Florian ; " have you learnt 370 No more from Psyche's lecture, you that talk\l The trash that made me sick, and almost sad ?" ^^ trash " he said, '^ but with a kernel in it. Should I not call her wise, who made me wise ? And learnt ? I learnt more from her in a flash, Than if my brainpan were an empty hull. And every Muse tumbled a science in. A thousand hearts lie fallow in these halls, And round these halls a thousand baby loves Fly twanging headless arrows at the hearts, 380 Whence follows many a vacant pang ; but With me, Sir, entered in the bigger boy. The Head of all the golden-shafted firm, The long-limb'd lad that had a Psyche too ; He cleft me thro' the stomacher ; and now What think you of it, Florian ? do I chase The substance or the shadow ? will it hold ? I have no sorcerer's malison on me, No ghostly hauntings like his Highness. I Flatter myself that always everywhere 390 I know the substance when I see it. Well, 376. Brainpa7i, the part of the skull about the brain. 379. Baby loves, baby Cupids. 383. Boy, Cupid himself, the god, the child of Venus. He fell in love with Psyche, and their adventures are the subject of a beautiful classical romance. 383. Golden-shafted firm, the firm of the golden-shafted arrows. 385. Stomacher, a part of female dress, worn in front. 388. Malison, curse. 43 THE PRINCESS [II. Are castles shadows ? Three of them ? Is she The sweet proprietress a shadow ? If not. Shall those three castles patch my tatter'd coat ? For dear are those three castles to my wants. And dear is sister Psyche to my heart, And two dear things are one of double worth, And much I might have said, but that my zone Unmanned me : then the Doctors ! to hear The Doctors ! to watch the thirsty plants 400 Imbibing ! once or twice I thought to roar. To break my chain, to shake my mane : but thou. Modulate me. Soul of mincing mimicry ! Make liquid treble of that bassoon, my throat ; Abase those eyes that ever loved to meet Star-sisters answering under crescent brows ; Abate the stride, which speaks of man, and loose A flying charm of blushes o'er tliis cheek. Where they like swallows coming out of time Will wonder why they came : but hark the bell 410 For dinner, let us go ! '' And in we streamed Among the columns, pacing staid and still By twos and threes, till all from end to end With beauties every shade of brown and fair In colours gayer than the morning mist, The long hall glitter'd like a bed of flowers. How might a man not wander from his wits Pierced thro' with eyes, but that I kept mine own Intent on her, who rapt in glorious dreams, The second-sight of some Astr^ean age, 420 394. Her wealth shall make good his poverty. The metaphor sug- gests heraldry, as if the castles were placed upon his coat of arms. 403. Mincing, making less by affected nicety and delicacy. 404. Bassoon, a wood wind-instrument, the bass among instru- ments of its class, here used as a metaphor of his deep-toned voice. 420. Second-sight, prophetic vision. Astrcean age. Astriea, the goddess of justice, was the last of II.] A MEDLEY 43 Sat compass^ with professors : they, the while, Discuss'd a doubt and tost it to and fro : A clamour thickenM, mixt with inmost terms Of art and science : Lady Blanche alone Of faded form and haughtiest lineaments. With all her autumn tresses falsely brown. Shot sidelong daggers at us, a tiger-cat In act to spring. At last a solemn grace Concluded, and we sought the gardens : there One walked reciting by herself, and one 430 In this hand held a volume as to read. And smoothed a petted peacock down with that : Some to a low song oar^d a shallop by. Or under arches of the marble bridge Hung, shadow'd from the heat : some hid and sought In the orange thickets : others tost a ball Above the fountain-jets, and back again With laughter : others lay about the lawns. Of the older sort, and murmured that their May AVas passing : what was learning unto them ? 440 They wished to marry ; they could rule a house ; Men hated learned women : but we three Sat muffled like the Fates ; and often came Melissa hitting all we saw with shafts Of gentle satire, kin to charity. That harm'd not : then day droopt ; the chapel bells Caird us : we left the walks ; we mixt with those Six hundred maidens clad in purest white, the divinities to leave the earth at the close of the golden age, and will return when it is restored. 423. Inmost, most technical and abstruse. 433. Shallop,' a small hoat. 435. ITid and sought, played hide and seek. 443. The Fates, three in number, Clotho, Lachesis, Atropos, represented as muffled because they hold the future in their breasts. 448. White, a surplice worn over the ordinary dress by students attending chapel. 44 THE PRINCESS [11. Before two streams of light from wall to wall. While the great organ almost burst his pipes, 450 Groaning for power, and. rolling thro^ the court A long melodious thunder to the sound Of solemn psalms, and silver litanies. The work of Ida, to call down from Heaven A blessing on her labours for the world. 453. Silver litanies, responsive prayers ; silver perhaps with reference to the feminine voices. III.] A 3IEDLEY 45 III. Sweet and low, sweet and low. Wind of the western sea. Low, low, breathe and blow. Wind of the western sea ! Over the rolling waters go. Come from the dying moon, and blow. Blow him again to me ; While my little one, while my pretty one, sleeps. Sleep and rest, sleep and rest. Father will come to thee soon ; Eest, rest, on mother's breast, Father will come to thee soon ; Father will come to his babe in the nest. Silver sails all out of the west Under the silver moon : Sleep, my little one, sleep, my pretty one, sleep. 46 THE PIUNGESS [III. MoRN" in the white wake of the morning star Came furrowing all the orient into gold. We rose, and each by other drest with care Descended to the court that lay three parts In shadow, but the Muses^ heads were touched Above the darkness from their native East. There while we stood beside the fount, and watchM Or seemM to watch the dancing bubble, approach'd Melissa, tinged with wan from lack of sleep. Or grief, and glowing round her dewy eyes 10 The circled Iris of a night of tears ; ^' And ily,'^ she cried, ^' fly, while yet you may ! My mother knows : ^' and when I ask^d her " how," ^' My fault, "" she we|)t, ^' my fault ! and yet not mine ; Yet mine in jiart. hear me, pardon me. My mother, ^tis her wont from night to night To rail at Lady Psyche and her side. She says the Princess should have been the Head, Herself and Lady Psyche the two arms ; And so it was agreed when first they came ; 20 But Lady Psyche was the right hand now, And she the left, or not, or seldom used ; Hers more than half the students, all the love. And so last night she fell to canvass you : I. The third speaker begins here. The two opening lines are among the most beautiful in Tennyson, many of whose descriptions of morning have the highest poetical quality ; he is, in fact, distinguished among English poets by them, and especially in the point that they are as brief as lovely. 9. Tinged with wan, pale. II. Circled Iris, dark rings. 17. Side, the English college term for school as a subdivision of the university. III.] A 3IEDLEY 47 Her countrywomen ! she did not envy her. ^ Who ever saw such wild barbarians ? Girls ? — more like men ! ' and at these words the snake. My secret, seem'd to stir within my breast ; And oh, Sirs, could I help it, but my cheek Began to burn and burn, and her lynx eye 30 To fix and make me hotter, till she laugh'd : '0 marvellously modest maiden, you ! Men ! girls, like men ! why, if they had been men You need not set your thoughts in rubric thus For wholesale comment/ Pardon, I am shamed That I must needs repeat for my excuse What looks so little graceful : *men^ (for still My mother went revolving on the word) ' And so they are, — very like men indeed — And with that woman closeted for hours ! ^ 40 Then came these dreadful words out one by one, ' Why — these — are — men:' I shudder'd: ' and you know it/ "^0 ask me nothing,^ I said : '^ And she knows too. And she conceals it/ So my mother clutclrd The truth at once, but with no word from me ; And now thus early risen she goes to inform The Princess : Lady Psyche will be crush'd ; But you may yet be saved, and therefore fly : But heal me with your pardon ere you go." " What pardon, sweet Melissa, for a blush ? " 50 Said Cyril : ^''Pale one, blusli again : than wear Those lilies, better blush our lives away. Yet let us breathe for one hour more in Heaven " He added, ''Mest some classic Angel speak 34. Rubric, red (by her blushes), as certain letters or words are written in red or rubric in old manuscripts or books, and so stand out prominently and are easily read on the page, 54. Classic Angel, "sweet girl graduate " who knows the classics ; the phrase glances at the women of the College into whose mode of speech, with plentiful classical allusion, Cyril falls. 48 THE PRINCESS [III. In scorn of us, ' They mounted, Ganymedes, To tumble, Vulcans, on the second morn/ But I will melt this marble into wax To yield us farther furlough : "" and he went. Melissa shook her doubtful curls, and thought He scarce would prosper. ^^Tell us/" Florian ask'd, 60 *^How grew this feud betwixt the right and left." ^' long ago,'" she said, " betwixt these two Division smoulders hidden ; "tis my mother. Too jealous, often fretful as the wind Pent in a crevice : much I bear with her : I never knew my father, but she says (God help her) she was wedded to a fool ; And still she rail'd against the state of things. She had the care of Lady Ida's youth, And from the Queen's decease she brought her up. 70 But when your sister came she won the heart Of Ida : tliey were still together, grew (For so they said themselves) inosculated; Consonant chords that shiver to one note; 55. Ganymedes. The Trojan boy Ganymede was seized by the eagle of Zeus and carried to Olympus, where he was made immortal as the cup-bearer of the gods. 56. Vulcans. Vulcan, the god of metal-working, was the son of Juno. Zeus hurled him from heaven ; he fell on Lemnos, and was lame ever after. He made armor for the gods and heroes in his workshop in Mount Etna. 61. Right and left, right and left hand {ef. III., 19). 73. Inosculated, closely united in one ; explained as a metaphor from physiology ; but Wallace rightly traces the meaning here directly to osculare, to kiss, and so gives the true color to the thought. 74. Shiver, vibrate ; the meaning is that the two friends were so inwardly harmonious that each responded to the other in mood and thought naturally, just as in the case of two musical instruments if a chord is struck in one the same chord of the other vibrates with the same note. Dawson explains to as into, i.e., chords whose notes blend in one inseparably. III.] A 3IEDLEY 49 One mind Jn all things : yet my mother still Affirms your Psyche thieved her theories, And angled with them for her pupiFs love : She calls her plagiarist ; I know not what : But I must go : I dare not tarry /^ and light. As flies the shadow of a bird, she fled. 80 Then murmur^l Florian gazing after her, ''An open-hearted maiden, true and pure. If I could love, why this were she : how pretty Her blushing was, and how she blusliM again. As if to close with CyriFs random wish : Kot like your Princess crammed with erring pride, Nor like poor Psyche whom she drags in tow.'^ '' The crane," I said, '^ may chatter of the crane. The dove may murmur of the dove, but I An eagle clang an eagle to the sphere, 90 My princess, my princess ! true she errs. But in her own grand way : being herself Three times more noble than three score of men. She sees herself in every woman else. And so she wears her error like a crown To blind the truth and me : for her, and her, Hebes are they to hand ambrosia, mix The nectar ; but — ah she — whenever she moves The Samian Here rises and she speaks A Memnon smitten with the morning Sun." 100 77. Angled 'with them, used them as baits, fishing for favor. 78. Plagiarist, a brain-thief ; one who steals thoughts or words of another. 90. Sphere, the highest, or the upper air. 96. Jler, and her, Lady Psyche and Melissa. 97. Hehes. Hebe was the cup-bearer of the gods before Ganymede. 99. Samian Here, wife of Zeus, whose favorite city was Samos. 100. Memnon, a name given to a colossal statue in Egypt, said to give forth a musical sound on being touched by the dawn's rays. 50 THE PRINCESS [III. So saying from the court we pacecl^ and gained The terrace ranged along the Northern fronts And leaning there on those balusters^ high Above the empurpled champaign, drank the gale That blown about the foliage underneath. And sated with the innumerable rose. Beat balm upon our eyelids. Hither came Cyril, and yawning '' hard task," he cried ; '' No fighting shadows here ! I forced a way Thro' solid opposition crabb'd and gnarl'd. 110 Better to clear prime forests, heave and thump A league of street in summer solstice down. Than hammer at this reverend gentlewoman. I knock'd and, bidden, enter'd ; found her there At point to move, and settled in her eyes The green malignant light of coming storm. Sir, I was courteous, every phrase well-oil'd. As man's could be ; yet maiden-meek I pray'd Concealment : she demanded who we were. And why we came ? I fabled nothing fair, 120 But, your example pilot, told her all. Up went the hush'd amaze of hand and eye. But when I dwelt upon your old affiance. She answered sharply that I talk'd astray. 103. Balusters, the balustrade. 104. Champaign, a level, open landscape. OaU, gentle blowing breeze, 111. Prime, primeval. 112. Work at road-making in the hottest season. The summer solstice occurs in the north June 31, and denotes the point at which the sun appears to stand still in his northern progress before retro- grading (going back) southward. 115. At point, on the point of, 120. Fabled notJmig fair, made up no plausible lie. 121. Example. Cf. II., 195. 122. Notice that the description of Lady Blanche is given largely by telling her gestures. 123. Affiance, betrothal. III.] A 3IEDLEY 51 I urged the fierce inscription on the gate. And our three lives. True — we had limed ourselves With open eyes, and we must take the chance. But such extremes, I told her, well might harm The woman's cause. * Not more than now,' she said, ' So puddled as it is with favouritism.' 130 I tried the mother's heart. Shame might befall Melissa, knowing, saying not she knew : Her answer was, ''Leave me to deal with that.' I spoke of war to come and many deaths. And she replied, her duty was to speak. And duty duty, clear of consequences. I grew discouraged. Sir ; but since I knew No rock so hard but that a little wave May beat admission in a thousand years, I recommenced ; ^ Decide not ere you pause. 140 I find you here but in the second j^lace, Some say the third — the authentic foundress you. I offer boldly : we will seat you highest ; "Wink at our advent : help my prince to gain His rightful bride, and here I promise you Some palace in our land, where you shall reign The head and heart of all our fair she-world. And your great name fiow on with broadening time For ever.' Well, she balanced this a little. And told me she would answer us to-day, 150 Meantime be mute : thus much, nor more I gain'd." He ceasing, came a message from the Head. ^' That afternoon the Princess rode to take The dip of certain strata to the North. Would we go with her ? we should find the land 126. Limed, caught as a bird with bird-lime. 138. Extremes, such as the execution of the penalty threatened. 136. Clear of, regardless of. 153, 154. Talce The dip of certain strata, measure their inclination to the horizon. 52 THE PRINCESS [III. Worth seeing ; and the river made a fall Out yonder : " then she pointed on to where A double hill ran up his furrowy forks Beyond the thick-leaved platans of the vale. Agreed to, this, the day fled on thro' all 160 Its range of duties to the appointed hour. Tlien summouM to the porch we went. She stood Among her maidens, higher by the head. Her back against a pillar, her foot on one Of those tame leopards. Kittenlike he rolFd And paw'd about her sandal. I drew near ; I gazed. On a sudden my strange seizure came Upon me, the weird vision of our house : The Princess Ida seem'd a hollow show. Her gay-furrM cats a painted fantasy, 170 Her college and her maidens, empty masks. And I myself the shadow of a dream, For all things were and were not. Yet I felt My heart beat thick with passion and with awe ; Then from my breast the involuntary sigh Brake, as she smote me with the light of eyes That lent my knee desire to kneel, and shook My pulses, till to horse we got, and so Went forth in long retinue following up The river as it narrow'd to the hills. 180 I rode beside hei-, and to me she said : " friend, we trust that you esteemed us not Too harsh to your companion yestermorn ; Unwillingly we spake." '^~^o — not to her,'' I answer'd, ^^but to one of whom we spake 159. Platans, plane-trees, 179. Retinue, with the accent on the second syllable, as in Shak- spere and Milton. 183. Yestermorn. Cf. II., 89. 185, One, the Prince. III.] A MEDLEY 53 Your Highness might have seemed the thing you say." '* Again ?" she cried, '^are you ambassadresses From him to me ? we give you, being strange, A license : speak, and let the topic die/' I stammered that I knew him — could have wishM — 190 '* Our king expects — was there no precontract ? There is no truer-hearted — ah, you seem All he prefigured, and he could not see The bird of passage flying south but long'd To follow : surely, if your Highness keep Your purport, you will shock him ev'n to death, Or baser courses, children of despair." " Poor boy," she said, ^' can he not read — no books ? Quoit, tennis, ball — no games ? nor deals in that Which men delight in, martial exercise ? 200 To nurse a blind ideal like a girl, Methinks he seems no better than a girl ; As girls were once, as we ourself have been : We had our dreams ; perhaps he mixt with them : We touch on our dead self, nor shun to do it. Being other — since we learnt our meaning here. To lift the woman's fall'n divinity Upon an even pedestal with man." She paused, and added with a haughtier smile, '' And as to precontracts, we move, my friend, 210 At no man's beck, but know ourself and thee, Vashti, noble Vashti ! Summon'd out She kept her state, and left the drunken king To brawl at Shushan underneath the palms." 186. Thing you say, too harsh. 188. Strange, foreign. 194. Bird, swallow. Cf. IV., 71. 199, Tennis, court-tennis. 212. Vashti, queen of Ahasuerus. Esther i. 10-12. 54 THE PRINCESS [III. '' Alas your Highness breathes full East/' I said, '' On that which leans to you. I know the Prince, I prize his truth : and then how vast a work To assail this gray preeminence of man ! You grant me license ; might I use it ? think ; Ere half be done perchance your life may fail ; 220 Then comes the feebler heiress of your plan. And takes and ruins all ; and thus your pains May only make that footprint upon sand Which old recurring waves of prejudice Resmooth to nothing : might I dread that you. With only Fame for spouse and your great deeds For issue, yet may live in vain, and miss. Meanwhile, what every woman counts her due, Love, children, happiness V And she exclaimM, *^ Peace, you young savage of the Northern wild ! 230 What ! tho' your Prince's love were like a God's, Have we not made ourself the sacrifice ? You are bold indeed : we are not talk'd to thus : Yet will we say for children, would they grew Like field-flowers everywhere ! we like them well : But children die ; and let me tell you, girl, Howe'er you babble, great deeds cannot die ; They with the sun and moon renew their light For ever, blessing those that look on them. Children — that men may pluck them from our hearts, 240 Kill us with pity, break us with ourselves — — children — there is nothing upon earth 215, Full East, like an east wind. 226. Spouse, wife. 227. Issue, children, 232. Devoted herself in self-sacrifice to her cause, 241. Ourselves. The chihlren are so much a part of the mother's life as to be her real self, the self through which she suffers moi'e than in her single life. III.] A 3IEDLEY 55 More miserable than she that has a son And sees him err : nor would we work for fame ; Tho^ she perhaps might reap the applause of Great, Who learns the one pou STO whence after-hands May move the world, tho' she herself effect But little : wherefore up and act, nor shrink For fear our solid aim be dissipated By frail successors. Would, indeed, we had been, 250 In lieu of many mortal flies, a race Of giants living, each, a thousand years. That we might see our own work out, and watch The sandy footprint harden into stone/^ I answered nothing, doubtful in myself If that strange Poet-princess with her grand Imaginations might at all be won. And she broke out interpreting my thoughts : '' No doubt we seem a kind of monster to you ; We are used to that : for women, up till this 260 Oramp'd under worse than South-sea-isle taboo. Dwarfs of the gynseceum, fail so far In high desire, they know not, cannot guess. How much their welfare is a passion to us. If we could give them surer, quicker proof — Oh if our end were less achievable By slow approaches, than by single act 246. Pou sto, the phrase of Archimedes (287-212 B.C.), the most celebrated ancient physicist : Sdi nov 6T(a uai Hodjuov Hir?}dGO, " Give me where to stand and I will move the world." 250-254. Would that, instead of being short-lived, like flies, we were able to live, like the giants, a thousand years, so that we might see our work, which requires a long age, slowly accomplished. • 254. Sandy footprint. Footprints of birds and animals are some- times found petrified. 261. South-sea-isle taboo, a system of interdiction, so regulated in the South Sea islands among the aborigines as to be an institution. 262. Gynceceum, the woman's quarters in houses where the sexes are separated. 56 THE PRINCESS - [III. Of immolation, any phase of death. We were as prompt to spring against the pikes. Or down the fiery gulf as talk of it, 270 To compass our dear sisters' liberties." She bow'd as if to veil a noble tear ; And up we came to where the river sloped To plunge in cataract, shattering on black blocks A breadth of thunder. O'er it shook the woods. And danced the colour, and, below, stuck out The bones of some vast bulk that lived and roared Before man was. She gazed awhile and said, '^ As these rude bones to us, are we to her That will be." '' Dare we dream of that," I ask'd, 280 '^ Which wrought us, as the workman and his work, That practice betters ?" " How," she cried, ^'you love The meta]3hysics ! read and earn our jirize, A golden brooch : beneath an emerald phme Sits Diotima, teaching him that died Of hemlock ; our device ; wrought to the life ; 208. Self-sacrifice by any kind of death. 269. As the Swiss, Arnold von Winkelried, at Sempach (1388), broke tlie impregnable line of Austrian spears by rushing on thera, crying the famous words, " Make way for liberty ! " Wallace refers to the sacrifice of the Roman, Publius Decius Mus (340 B.C.), who rushed on the spears of the enemy to his death, in the belief that it was fated that the general of the victorious army must perish. 270. As the Roman, Marcus Curtius (3G2 B.C.), leaped, on horse- back and in armor, into the chasm at Rome, devoting himself a sacrifice to the gods. 276. The colour, the rainbow. 277. Bones, the fossil remains of some mastodon or other mmistrous animal of prehistoric times. 280. Dare we dream of the creative power that made us as if he were a workman who grows more skilful by practice ? 285. Diotima, the prophetess said to have been the instructor of Socrates. 286. Hemlock. Socrates was condemned to die by drinking hemlock. III.] A MEDLEY §7 She rapt upon her subject, he on her : For there are schools for all." '' And yet " I said '' Metliinks I have not found among them all One anatomic." '' Nay, we thought of that," 290 She answer'd, '^ but it pleased us not : in truth We shudder but to dream our maids should ape Those monstrous males that carve the living hound, And cram him with the fragments of the grave. Or in the dark dissolving human heart. And holy secrets of this microcosm, Dabbling a shameless hand with shameful jest, Encarnalize their spirits : yet we know Knowledge is knowledge, and this matter hangs : Howbeit ourself, foreseeing casualty, 300 Nor willing men should come among us, learnt. For many weary moons before we came. This craft of healing. Were you sick, ourself Would tend upon you. To your question now. Which touches on the workman and his work. Let there be light and there was light : ^tis so : For was, and is, and will be, are but is ; And all creation is one act at once. The birth of light : but we that are not all. As parts, can see but parts, now this, now that, 310 And live, perforce, from thought to thought, and make One act a phantom of succession : thus Our weakness somehow shapes the shadow. Time ; But in the shadow will we work, and mould 290. Anatomic, school of anatomy. 293. Those who practise vivisection. 296. 3Iicrocosm, the little world of the human body. 298. Encarnalize, steep in sense till they become carnal or all fleshly ; sensualize. 299. Hangs, is undecided. 300. Casualty, accident. 306-314. These lines state a philosophical theory which cannot be easily comprehended by young students, and may best be passed over. 58 THE PRINCESS [III. The woman to the fuller day/^ She spake With kindled eyes : we rode a league beyond. And, o'er a bridge of pine wood crossing, came On flowery levels underneath the crag, Full of all beauty. '^ how sweet " I said (For I was half-oblivious of my mask) 320 " To linger here with one that loved us/' " Yea," She answer'd, ^' or with fair philosophies That lift the fancy ; for indeed these fields Are lovely, lovelier not the Elysian lawns. Where paced the Demigods of old, and saw The soft white vapour streak the crowned towers Built to the Sun : " then, turning to her maids, '' Pitch our pavilion here upon the sward ; Lay out the viands/' At the word, they raised A tent of satin, elaborately wrought 330 With fair Corinna's triumph ; here she stood. Engirt with many a florid maiden-cheek. The woman-conqueror ; woman-conquer'd there The bearded Victor of ten thousand hymns. And all the men mourn'd at his side : but we Set forth to climb ; then, climbing, Cyril kept AVith Psyche, with Melissa Florian, I With mine affianced. Many a little hand Glanced like a touch of sunshine on the rocks. Many 'a light foot shone like a jewel set 340 In the dark crag : and then we turn'd, we wound About the cliffs, the copses, out and in, 324. Elysian laivns. Elysium was the abode of the blessed after death, sometimes placed in the Islands of the Blest, to which Tenny- son himself refers this passage. The Demigods are the heroes of antiquity. 331. Corinna's triumph. Corinna, the Greek poetess, overcame Pindar (522-442 b.c), the most famous Greek writer of odes, several times in the trial for the prize of poetry at the public games. 834. Victor, Pindar. III.] A MEDLEY 59 Hammeriug and clinking, chattering stony names Of shale and hornblende, rag and trap and tuff. Amygdaloid and trachyte, till the Sun Grew broader toward his death and fell, and all The rosy heights came out above the lawns. 344, 345. Names of different kinds of stone. 347. Notice how the close corresponds with the opening of this part. 60 TEE PRINCESS [IV. IV. The splendour falls on castle walls And snowy summits old in story : The long light shakes across the lakes. And the wild cataract leaps in glory. Blow, bugle, blow, set the wild echoes flying. Blow, bugle ; answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying. hark, hear I how thin and clear, And thinner, clearer, farther going ! sweet and far from cliff and scar The horns of Elfland faintly blowing ! Blow, let us hear the purple glens replying : Blow, bugle ; answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying. love, they die in yon rich sky. They faint on hill or field or river : Our echoes roll from soul to soul. And grow for ever and for ever. Blow, bugle, blow, set the wild echoes flying, And answer, echoes, answer, dying, dying, dying. IV.] A MEDLEY 61 '' There sinks the nebulous star we call the Sun, If that hypothesis of theirs be sound/' Said Ida ; " let us down and rest ;''' and we Down from the lean and wrinkled precipices. By every coppice-feather'd chasm and cleft, Dropt thro" the ambrosial gloom to where below No bigger than a glow-worm shone the tent Lamp-lit from the inner. Once she lean'd on me. Descending ; once or twice she lent her hand. And blissful palpitations in the blood, 10 Stirring a sudden transport rose and fell. But when we planted level feet, and dipt Beneath the satin dome and entered in, There leaning deep in broiderM down we sank Our elbows : on a tripod in the midst A fragrant flame rose, and before us glowM Fruit, blossom, viand, amber wine, and gold. Then she, '' Let some one sing to us ; lightlier move The minutes fledged with music : " and a maid. Of those beside her, smote her harp, and sang. 20 ^' Tears, idle tears, I know not what they mean, Tears from the depth of some divine despair Rise in the heart, and gather to the eyes, In looking on the happy Autumn-fields, And thinking of the days that are no more. '' Fresh as the first beam glittering on a sail, That brings our friends up from the underworld, 1. The fourth speaker here begins. 2, Hypothesis, the nebular hypothesis {cf. II., 101). 17. Oold, gold plate. 27. Underworld, below the horizon. 62 THE PRINCESS [IV. Sad as the last which reddens over one That sinks with all we love below the verge ; So sad, so fresh, the days that are no more. 30 '^ Ah, sad and strange as in dark snmmer dawns The earliest pipe of half-awaken'd birds To dying ears, when unto dying eyes The casement slowly grows a glimmering square; So sad, so strange, the days that are no more. ''■ Dear as remember\l kisses after death, And sweet as those by hopeless fancy feign\l On lips that are for others ; deep as love. Deep as first love, and wild with all regret ; Death in Life, the days that are no more.'^ 40 She ended with such passion that the tear, She sang of, shook and fell, an erring pearl Lost in her bosom : but with some disdain Answered the Princess, '' If indeed there haunt About the mouldered lodges of the Past So sweet a voice and vague, fatal to men. Well needs it we should cram our ears with wool And so pace by : but thine are fancies hatched In silken-folded idleness ; nor is it Wiser to weep a true occasion lost, 50 But trim our sails, and let old bygones be. While down the streams that float us each and all To the issue, goes, like glittering bergs of ice, Throne after throne, and molten on the waste Becomes a cloud : for all things serve their time 34. Casement, window. 47. Cram our ears ivith ivool. Ulysses stopped the ears of his com- panions with wax as they passed by the island of the Sirens, so that they shouki not hear the singing, by which the metaphor of the. "sweet, vague, and fatal voice" is suggested. 54. Throne after throne. The European revolutions of this cen- tury here suggest the thought. IV.] A MEDLEY 53 Toward that great year of equal mights and rights ; Nor would I fight with iron laws, in the end Found golden : let the past be past ; let be Their cancelFd Babels : tho^ the rough kex break The starr'd mosaic, and the beard-blown goat 60 Hang on the shaft, and the wild figtree split Their monstrous idols, care not while we hear A trumpet in the distance pealing news Of better, and Hope, a poising eagle, burns Above the unrisen morrow : '' then to me ; " Know you no song of your own land,'^ she said, '^'Not such as moans about the retrospect. But deals with the other distance and the hues Of promise ; not a death^'s-head at the wine." Then I remembered one myself had made, 70 What time I watcliM the swallow winging south From mine own land, part made long since, and part Now while I sang, and maidenlike, as far As I could ape their treble, did I sing. 56. Oreat year. A poetical phrase equivalent to age ; here the age of democracy. 58. Golden, the best in their results. 59. CancelVd Babels, completely destroyed Babylons; here used metaphorically of all the dead past. Kex, hemlock ; let the rough growth of the ruin break through the starry mosaic pavement, and the goat, with his beard blowing in the wind, hang on the pillar (as on a crag), and the wild fig-tree split the monstrous idols of the shrine (just as the pine splits the rock in whose crevices it has sprung up). These picturesque details of the ruin of a temple are the characteristic ones noticed by travellers, and are familiar in literature, both ancient and modern. 64. Burns, reflects the light from the sun rising, but not yet seen. 68. Other distance, the future. 69. Death'' s-head at the ivine. The metaphor, common in poetry, is originally derived from the story of Herodotus, that the Egyp- tians, at their banquets, had a wooden image of a mummy brought in and carried about as a reminder of death. 71. Cf. III., 194. 64 THE PRINCESS [IV. '^ Swallow, Swallow, flying, flying South, Fly to her, and fall upon her gilded eaves. And tell her, tell her, what I tell to thee. " tell her, Swallow, thou that knowest each. That bright and fierce and fickle is the South, And dark and true and tender is the North. 80 '^ Swallow, Swallow, if I could follow, and light Upon her lattice, I would pipe and trill. And cheep and twitter twenty million loves. ^' were I thou that she might take me in, And lay me on her bosom, and her heart Would rock the snowy cradle till I died. "Why lingereth she to clothe her heart with love. Delaying as the tender ash delays To clothe herself, when all the woods are green ? " tell her, Swallow, that thy brood is flown : 90 Say to her, I do but wanton in the South, But in the North long since my nest is made. '^ tell her, brief is life, but love is long, And brief the sun of summer in the North, And brief the moon of beauty in the South. ^^0 Swallow, flying from the golden woods. Fly to her, and pipe and woo her, and make her mine, And tell her, tell her, that I follow thee."" I ceased, and all the ladies, each at each, Like the Ithacensian suitors in old time, 100 Stared with great eyes, and laughed with alien lips, 100. Ithacensian suitors, in Homer's Odyssey, the suitors for the hand of Penelope, wife of Ulysses, whom that hero slew on his return to Ithaca at the end of his voyage. 101. With alien lips, strangely, without knowing why. The phrase is meant as a translation of the Greek, literally " with other men's jaws." Homer, Odyssey, xx., 347. IV.] A 3IEDLEY 65 And knew not what they meant ; for still my voice Rang false : but smiling '' Not for thee/^ she said, " Biilbul, any rose of Gnlistan t-> a . -' Shall burst her veil : marsh-divers, rather, maid, Shall croak thee sister, or the meadow-crake Grate her harsh kindred in the grass : and this A mere love-poem ! for such, my friend. We hold them slight : they mind us of the time When we made bricks in Egypt. Knaves are men, 110 That lute and flute fantastic tenderness. And dress the victim to the offering up. And paint the gates of Hell with Paradise, And play the slave to gain the tyranny. Poor soul ! I had a maid of honour once ; She wept her true eyes blind, for such a one, A rogue of canzonets and serenades. I loved her. Peace be with her. She is dead. So they blaspheme the muse ! But great is song Used to great ends : ourself have often tried 120 Valkyrian hymns, or into rhythm have dashed. The passion of the prophetess ; for song 104. Bulhul, nightingale. OuUstan, rose-garden. Both words are Persian, tiie love of the rose and the nightingale being a leading motive in Persian poetry. 105. Marsh-divers . . . meadow -crake, birds of harsh notes. 110. When we made bricks in Egypt, when we lived in bondage to men before the exodus to this retreat. The phrase is a general one for thraldom, and alludes to the work required by Pharaoh of the Israelites in Egypt. Exodus i. 8-14 ; v. 7. 112. Dress -the victim. The animal to be sacrificed was often dressed in garlands before being led to the altar. 117. Canzonets, a kind of light song, used especially in Southern nations, and, like the " serenades," sung to a guitar, or similar in- strument, by lovers, 121. Valhjrian. The Valkyrs are Odin's handmaidens, who are sent to the battle-field to choose those who shall be slain, and they conduct their souls to Valhalla, the heaven of the race, and there serve at the banquets. 122. Such as Miriam's in the Scriptures. Exodus xv. 20. 66 THE PRINCESS [IV. Is duer unto freedom, force and growth Of spirit than to junketing and love. Love is it ? Would this same mock-love, and this Mock-Hymen were laid up like winter bats. Till all men grew to rate us at our worth, Not vassals to be beat, nor pretty babes To be dandled, no, but living wills, and sphered Whole in ourselves and owed to none. Enough ! 130 Bat now to leaven play with profit, you. Know you no song, the true growth of your soil. That gives the manners of your country-women ? '' She spoke and turned her sumptuous head with eyes Of shining expectation fixt on mine. Then while I dragg'd my brains for such a song, Cyril, with whom the bell-moutliM glass had wrought. Or mastered by the sense of sport, began To troll a careless, careless tavern-catch Of Moll and ]\Ieg, and strange experiences 140 Unmeet for ladies. Florian nodded at him, I frowning ; Psyche flusliM and wann'd and shook ; The lilylike Melissa droopM her brows ; '^ Forbear," the Princess cried ; '' Forbear, Sir " I ; And heated thro' and thro' with wrath and love, I smote him on the breast ; he started up ; There rose a shriek as of a city sacked ; Melissa clamour'd " Flee the death ; '' ''To horse" Said Ida ; '' home ! to horse ! " and fled, as flies A troop of snowy doves athwart the dusk, 150 When some one batters at the dovecote-doors. Disorderly the women. Alone I stood With Florian, cursing Cyril, vext at heart, 126. Mock-Hijmen. Hymen was the god of marriage. 130. Oived, rightfully bound. 137. With whom the lell-moutN d glass had wrought, on whom the wine had worked. IV.] A MEDLEY 67 In the pavilion : there like parting hopes I heard them passing from me : hoof by hoof. And every hoof a knell to my desires, Clang'd on the bridge ; and then another shriek, '' The Head, the Head, the Princess, the Head \" For blind with rage she missed the plank, and rolled In the river. Out I sprang from glow to gloom : 160 There whirl'd her white robe like a blossomed feranch Rapt to the horrible fall : a glance I gave. No more ; but woman-vested as I was Plunged ; and the flood drew ; yet I caught her ; then Oaring one arm, and bearing in my left The weight of all the hopes of half the world. Strove to buffet to land in vain. A tree Was half-disrooted from his place and stoop'd To drench his dark locks in the gurgling wave Mid-channel. Eight on this we drove and caught, 170 And grasping down the boughs I gain'd the shore. There stood her maidens glimmeringly groupM In the hollow bank. One reaching forward drew My burthen from mine arms ; they cried ^' she lives : '' They bore her back into the tent : but I, So much a kind of shame within me wrought, Not yet endured to meet her opening eyes. Nor found my friends ; but push'd alone on foot (For since her horse was lost I left her mine) Across the woods, and less from Indian craft 180 Than beelike instinct hiveward, found at length The garden portals. Two great statues. Art 154. Parting, departing. 160. Olow to gloom, from the light inside the tent to the darkness without. 163. Rapt, hurried away. 166. Half the ivorld, woman. 180. Indian craft, wood-craft. 68 THE PRINCESS [IV. And Science, Caryatids, lifted up A weight of emblem, and betwixt were valves Of open-work in which the hunter rued His rash intrusion, manlike, but his brows Had sprouted, and the branches thereupon Spread out at top, and grimly spiked the gates. A little €pace was left between the horns, Thro^ which I clamber\l o^'er at top with pain, 190 Dropt on the sward, and up the linden walks. And, tost on thoughts that changed from hue to hue. Now poring on the glowworm, now the star, I paced the terrace, till the Bear had wheeFd Thro^ a great arc his seven slow suns. A step Of lightest echo, then a loftier form Than female, moving thro^ the uncertain gloom. Disturb^ me with the doubt ^' if this were she,^^ But it was Florian. " Hist Hist,^" he said, '' They seek us : out so late is out of rules. 200 Moreover ' seize the strangers ' is the cry. How came you here VI told him : '^1/' said he, *' Last of the train, a moral leper, I, To whom none spake, half-sick at heart, return^. Arriving all confused among the rest 183. Caryatids, figures of women used as columns for architectural support. 184. Weight of emblem, an entablature wrought with emblems; but the student will have noticed that all the decorations of the palace are emblematic. Valves, gates. 185. The hunter, Actaeon, who was changed into a stag by Diana, because of his intrusion upon her. He is here represented in the openwork of the gates, with the form and face of a man, but the antlers have sprouted on his brows and, branching above, make the spikes of the gate. 193. Now looking on the ground, now at heaven. 194. Bear, the northern constellation of the Great Bear. IV.] A MEDLEY 69 With hooded brows I crept into the hall. And, couchM behind a Judith, underneath The head of Holofernes peepM and saw. Girl after girl was calFd to trial : each Disclaimed all knowledge of us : last of all, 210 Melissa : trust me. Sir, I pitied her. She, questioned if she kncAv us men, at first Was silent ; closer prest, denied it not : And then, demanded if her mother knew. Or Psyche, she affirmM not, or denied : From whence the Eoyal mind, familiar with her, Easily gathered either guilt. She sent For Psyche, but she was not there ; she called For Psyche's child to cast it from the doors ; She sent for Blanche to accuse her face to face ; 220 And 1 slipt out : but whither will you now ? And where are Psyche, Cyril ? both are fled : What, if together ? that were not so well. Would rather we had never come ! I dread His wildness, and the chances of the dark."' '^ And jet/' I said, ^^you wrong him more than I That struck him : this is proper to the clown, Tho' smocked, or furr'd and purpled, still the clown. To harm the thing that trusts him, and to shame 207. Judith, the Jewess who entered the camp of Holofernes, then besieging her native city, and, gaining admission to his tent under pretext, killed him as he lay asleep after the feast and cut off his head. The story is told in the Book of Judith in the Apocrypha. 214. Demanded, asked. 217. Either guilt, the guilt of both Lady Blanche and Lady Psyche. 219. Notice the attitude of the Princess toward the child, which changes from this point. 227. Proper to, appropriate to, the nature of. 228. Smock'd, or furr'd and purpled, whether dressed in the com- mon, plebeian smock or in the furs and purple that belong to high rank. 70 THE PRINCESS [IV. That wliicli he says he loves : for Cyril, however 230 He deal in frolic, as to-night — the song Might have been worse and sinn'd in grosser lips Beyond all pardon — as it is, I hold These flashes on the surface are not he. He has a solid base of temperament : But as the waterlily starts and slides Upon the level in little puffs of wind, Tho' anchored to the bottom, such is he." Scarce had I ceased when from a tamarisk near Two Proctors leapt upon us, crying, ^^ Names : " 240 He, standing still, was clutch^ ; but I began To thrid the musky-circled mazes, wind And double in and out the boles, and race By all the fountains : fleet I was of foot : Before me sliowerM the rose in flakes ; behind I heard the puff'd pursuer ; at mine ear Bubbled the nightingale and heeded not. And secret laughter tickled all my soul. At last I hookM my ankle in a vine. That claspt the feet of a Mnemosyne, 250 And falling on my face was caught and known. They haled us to the Princess where she sat High in the hall: above her droop^l a lamp. And made the single jewel on her brow Burn like the mystic fire on a mast head. Prophet of storm: a handmaid on each side 242. Thrid, thread. Musky-circled, hung with heavy fragrance. 243. Boles, tree-trunks. 250. Mnemosyne, goddess of memory, mother of the Muses. 252. Haled, hauled. 255. Mystic fire, St. Elmo's fire, called corposant by sailors, is an electrical ball of light that sometimes plays about the masts and rigging of a ship in or before stormy weather. IV.] A MEDLEY 71 Bow^d toward her, combing out her long black hair Damp from the river ; and close behind her stood Eight daughters of the plough, stronger than men, Huge women blowzed with health, and wind, and rain, And labour. Each was like a Druid rock ; 361 Or like a spire of land that stands apart Cleft from the main, and wail'd about with mews. Then, as we came, the crowd dividing clove An advent to the throne : and therebeside. Half-naked as if caught at once from bed And tumbled on the purple footcloth, lay The lily-shining child ; and on the left, Bow'd on her palms and folded up from wrong, Her round white shoulder shaken with her sobs, 270 Melissa knelt ; but Lady Blanche erect Stood up and spake, an affluent orator. '^^It was not thus, Princess, in old days : You prized my counsel, lived upon my lips : I led you then to all the Castalies ; I fed you with the milk of every Muse ; I loved you like this kneeler, and you me Your second mother : those were gracious times. Then came your new friend : you began to change — I saw it and grieved — to slacken and to cool ; 280 Till taken with her seeming openness You turned your warmer currents all to her, 260. Blowzed, with a coarse red complexion. 261. Druid roch, a great stone set in the ground, like those at Stonehenge on Salisbury plain, by the Druids, who were the priests of the Celts. 263. WaiVd about with meivs, surrounded by crying sea-mews, gulls. 265. Advent, passage. 275. Castalies. Castalia was the fountain on Mount Parnassus, sacred to the Muses, and inspiring those who drank of it : here, all the founts of poetry. 72 THE PRtNGESS [IV. To me you froze : this was my meed for all. Yet I bore up in part from ancient love, And partly that I hoped to win you back, And partly conscious of my own deserts. And partly that you were my civil head, And chiefly you were born for something great. In which I might your fellow-worker be. When time should serve ; and thus a noble scheme 290 Grew up from seed we two long since had sown ; In us true growth, in her a Jonah^s gourd. Up in one night and due to sudden sun : We took this palace ; but even from the first You stood in your own light and darkened mine. AVhat student came but that you planed her path To Lady Psyche, younger, not so wise, A foreigner, and I your countrywoman, I your old friend and tried, she new in all ? But still her lists were swelFd and mine were lean ; 300 Yet I bore up in hope she would be known : Then came these wolves : they knew her : they endured. Long-closeted with her the yestermorn. To tell her what they were, and she to hear : And me none told : not less to an eye like mine A lidless watcher of the public weal. Last night, their mask was patent, and my foot Was to you : but I thought again : I fear'd To meet a cold ' We thank you, we shall hear of it From Lady Pysche : ' you had gone to her, 310 She told, perforce ; and winning easy grace. No doubt, for slight delay, remain^'d among us Li our young nursery still unknown, the stem 292. Jonah's gourd, the gourd of the prophet Jonah, that grew up in a night. Jonah iv. 5-11. 296. Pla7ied, smoothed. 306. Lidless, with unclosing eyes. 307. Patent, open. 313. Nursery, a place where young trees are grown. IV.] A MEDLEY . 73 Less grain than touchwood^ while my honest heat Were all miscounted as malignant haste To push my rival out of place and power. But public use required she should be known ; And since my oath was ta'en for ]3ublic use, I broke the letter of it to keep the sense. I spoke not then at first, but watched them well, 320 Saw that they kept apart, no mischief done ; And yet this day (tho^ you should hate me for it) I came to tell you ; found that you had gone, Ridd''n to the hills, she likewise : now, I thought. That surely she will speak ; if not, then I : Did she ? These monsters blazoned what they were. According to the coarseness of their kind. For thus I hear ; and known at last (my work) And full of cowardice and guilty shame, I grant in her some sense of shame, she flies ; 330 And I remain on whom to wreak your rage, I, that have lent my life to build up yours, I that have wasted here health, wealth, and time. And talent, I — you know it — I will not boast : Dismiss me, and I prophesy your plan. Divorced from my experience, will be chaff For every gust of chance, and men Avill say We did not know the real light, but chased The wisp that flickers where no foot can tread. ^' She ceased: the Princess answered coldly, ^^Good: 340 Your oath is broken : we dismiss you : go. 314. Grain than touchwood, firm and hard than soft and infl-am- mable : touchwood is the name of wood which has suffered a par- ticular kind of decay that makes it like tinder. Honest heat., heat of sound wood. 826. Blazon'd, proclaimed, made coarsely apparent. 328. Knoivn at last {my tvork), made known by my crafty delay, which gave her free rein. 389. Wisp, will-o'-the-wisp, seen in marshes and low lands. 74 THE PRINCESS [IV. For this lost lamb (she pointed to the child) Our mind is changed : we take it to ourself/^ Thereat the Lady stretcliM a vulture throat, And shot from crooked lips a haggard smile. ^' The plan was mine. I built the nest "' she said ^' To hatch the cuckoo. Rise ! " and stoopVl to updrag Melissa : she, half on her mother propt, Half -drooping from her, turned her face, and cast A liquid look on Ida, full of prayer, 350 Which melted Florian's fancy as she hung, A Niobean daughter, one arm out. Appealing to the bolts of Heaven ; and while We gazed upon her came a little stir About the doors, and on a sudden rush'd Among us, out of breath, as one pursued, A woman-post in flying raiment. Fear Stared in her eyes, and chalk\I her face, and wingM Her transit to the throne, whereby she fell Delivering seaFd dispatches which the Head 3G0 Took half-amazed, and in her lion^s mood Tore open, silent we with blind surmise Regarding, while she read, till over brow And cheek and bosom brake the wrathful bloom As of some fire against a stormy cloud. When the wild peasant rights himself, the rick 344, 345. These two lines are the height of the gesture-description of Lady Blanche, already noted. Perhaps, the best of such lines by Tennyson are the well-known " Read rascal in the motions of his back, And scoundrel in the supple-sliding knee." 347. Cuckoo. The cuckoo lays its eggs in other birds' nests. 353. Nio'bea7i daughter, like one of the famous Niobe group, in which the mother is represented in the midst of her daughters as they are being slain by the arrows of Apollo and Diana, in revenge for her boast that she had borne more children than Leda, the mother of those deities. 357. Woman-post, messenger. 366. This line is suggested by the disturbances in England " more IV.] A MEDLEY 75 Flames, and his anger reddens in the heavens ; For anger most it seem'd, while now her breast, Beaten with some great passion at her heart, Palpitated, her hand shook, and we heard 370 In the dead hush the papers that she held Eustle : at once the lost lamb at her feet Sent out a bitter bleating for its dam ; The plaintive cry jarr'd on her ire ; she crush'd The scrolls together, made a sudden turn As if to speak, but, utterance failing her. She whirFd them on to me, as who should say ^' Read,'' and I read — two letters — one her sire's. ^' Fair daughter, when we sent the Prince your way We knew not your ungracious laws, which learnt, 380 We, conscious of what temper you are built. Came all in haste to hinder wrong, but fell Into his father's hands, who has this night. You lying close upon his territory, Slipt round and in the dark invested you. And here he keeps me hostage for his son." The second was my father's running thus : *' You have our son: touch not a hair of his head : Render him up unscathed : give him your hand : Cleave to your contract : tho' indeed we hear 390 You hold the woman is the better man ; A rampant heresy, such as if it spread Would make all women kick against their Lords Thro' all the world, and which might well deserve than hall a hundred years ago, in rick-fire days," when the peasants burned the hayricks, and Tennyson himself took a part {cf. To Mary Boyle, vii,-xi.) : " And once— I well remember that red night When thirty ricks, All flaming, made an English homestead Hell— These hands of mine Have helped to pass a bucket from the well Along the line." 76 THE PRINCESS [IV. That we this night should pluck your palace down ; And we will do it, unless you send us back Our son, on the instant, whole/^ So far I read ; And then stood up and spoke impetuously. '' not to pry and peer on your reserve. But led by golden wishes, and a hope 400 The child of regal comjoact, did I break Your precinct ; not a scorner of your sex. But venerator, zealous it should be All that it might be : hear me, for I bear, Tho' man, yet human, whatsoe'er your wrongs. From the flaxen curl to the gray lock a life Less mine than yours : my nurse would tell me of you ; I babbled for you, as babies for the moon, Vague brightness ; when a boy, you stoop'd to me From all high places, lived in all fair lights, 410 Came in long breezes rapt from inmost south And blown to inmost north ; at eve and dawn With Ida, Ida, Ida, rang the woods ; The leader wildswan in among the stars Would clang it, and lapt in wreaths of glowworm light The mellow breaker murmured Ida. Now, Because I would have reach'd you, had you been Sphered up with Cassiopeia, or the enthroned Persephone in Hades, now at length, 401, 402. Break Your precinct, trespass on your bounds. 406. From boyhood to old age. 415. Clang, the sound of the swan's wing ; but Wallace refers it to the song-note of the swan. Glowworm light, phosphorescence. 418. Cassiopeia, the Ethiopian queen, mother of Andromeda, who, after death, was placed in heaven as the constellation of that name. 419. PersepJione, the daughter of Ceres, stolen by Pluto, god of the infernal world, as she was gathering flowers in Sicily, and carried by him underground, where she became his queen in Hades. IV.] A MEDLEY 77 Those winters of abeyance all worn out^ 420 A man I came to see you : but, indeed, Not in this frequence can I lend full tongue, noble Ida, to those thoughts that wait On you, their centre : let me say but this. That many a famous man and woman, town And landskip, have I heard of, after seen The dwarfs of presage : tho"* when known, there grew Another kind of beauty in detail Made them worth knowing ; but in you I found My boyish dream involved and dazzled down 430 And mastered, while that after-beauty makes Such head from act to act, from hour to hour. Within me, that except you slay me here. According to your bitter statute-book, 1 cannot cease to follow you, as they say The seal does music ; who desire you more Than growing boys their manhood ; dying lips. With many thousand matters left to do. The breath of life ; more than poor men wealth. Than sick men health — yours, yours, not mine — but half Without you ; with you, whole ; and of those halves 441 You worthiest ; and however you block and bar Your heart with system out from mine, I hold That it becomes no man to nurse despair. But in the teeth of clenchM antagonisms To follow up the worthiest till he die : Yet that I came not all unauthorized Behold your father^'s letter/' 420. Wmters of abeyance, the years during which the " pre-con- tract" lay in abeyance ; existed, but was not acted on. 422. Frequence, throng. 426. Landskip, landscape. 427. Dwarfs of presage. They turned out, when seen, to be less than was promised or expected, 431. After-beauty, beauty following a fuller knowledge, as above. 436. The seal does music. The fact is stated by many naturalists ; see the Encyclopcedia Britannica under Seal. 78 THE PRINCESS [IV. On one knee Kneeling, I gave it, which she caught, and dash'd Unopened at her feet : a tide of fierce 450 Invective seemVl to wait behind her lips, As waits a river level with the dam Ready to burst and flood the world with foam : And so she would have spoken, but there rose A hubbub in the court of half the maids Gathered together : from the illumined hall Long lanes of splendour slanted o'er a press Of snowy shoulders, thick as herded ewes. And rainbow robes, and gems and gemlike eyes. And gold and golden heads ; they to and fro 460 Fluctuated, as flowers in storm, some red, some pale. All open-mouth'd, all gazing to the light. Some crying there was an army in the land. And some that men were in the very walls, And some they cared not ; till a clamour grew As of a new- world Babel, woman-built. And worse-confounded : high above them stood The placid marble Muses, looking peace. Not peace she look'd, the Head : but rising up Robed in the long night of her deep hair, so 470 To the open window moved, remaining there Fixt like a beacon-tower above the waves Of tempest, when the crimson-rolling eye Glares ruin, and the wild birds on the light Dash themselves dead. She stretch'd her arms and call'd Across the tumult, and the tumult fell. 455. Court, the outer courtyard lit up by the light through the hall windows. 466. Babel, the tower built to heaven, during the construction of which the tongues of men were confounded, so that no one under- stood his neighbor. Genesis xi. 1-9. 473. Crimson-rolling eye, the red, revolving light of the beacon. 474. Birds, the sea-birds sometimes fly against the sides of the light and are killed. IV.] A MEDLEY 79 " What fear ye, brawlers ? am not I your Head ? On me, me, me, the storm first breaks : / dare All these male thunderbolts : what is it ye fear ? Peace ! there are those to avenge us and they come : 480 If not, — myself were like enough, girls. To unfurl the maiden banner of our rights, — And clad in iron burst the ranks of war. Or, falling, protomartyr of our cause. Die : yet I blame you not so much for fear ; Six thousand years of fear have made you that From which I would redeem you : but for those That stir this hubbub — you and you — I know Your faces there in the crowd — to-morrow morn A¥e hold a great convention : then shall they 490 That love their voices more than duty, learn With whom they deal, dismissed in shame to live No wiser than their mothers, household stuff, Live chattels, mincers of each other^s fame. Full of weak poison, turnspits for the clown, The drunkard's football, laughing-stocks of Time, Whose brains are in their hands and in their heels, But fit to flaunt, to dress, to dance, to thrum. To tramp, to scream, to burnish, and to scour. For ever slaves at home and fools abroad." 500 She, ending, waved her hands : thereat the crowd. Muttering, dissolved : then with a smile that looked A stroke of cruel sunshine on the cliff. When all the glens are drowned in azure gloom Of thunder-shower, she floated to us and said : 480, Those, her brothers. 484. Protomartyr, first martyr, the name given to St. Stephen. 494. Chattels, articles of personal property ; Wallace quotes the Slavonian definition of woman as " a living broom or shovel." 495. Tiirnspits, cooks, servants set to turn the spit, or pointed rod, on which it was the custom to fix meat to be roasted by turning it from side to side before the open fire. 80 THE PRINCESS [IV. " You have done well and like a gentleman. And like a prince : you have our thanks for all : And you look well too in your woman^s dress : Well have you done and like a gentleman. You saved our life : we owe you bitter thanks : 510 Better have died and spilt our bones in the flood — Then men had said — but now — What hinders me To take such bloody vengeance on you both ? — Yet since our father — Wasps in our good hive. You would-be quenchers of the light to be. Barbarians, grosser than your native bears — would I had his sceptre for one hour ! You that have dared to break our bound, and gull'd Our servants, wrong'd and lied and thwarted us — /wed with thee ! /bound by precontract 520 Your bride, your bondslave ! not tho^ all the gold That veins the world were pack\i to make your crown. And every spoken tongue should lord you. Sir, Your falsehood and yourself are hateful to us : 1 trample on your offers and on you : Begone : we will not look upon you more. Here, push them out at gates." In wrath she spake. Then those eight mighty daughters of the plough Bent their broad faces toward us and addressed Their motion : twice I sought to plead my cause, 530 But on my shoulder hung their heavy hands. The weight of destiny : so from her face They push'd us, down the steps, and thro' the court. And with grim laughter thrust us out at gates. We crossed the street and gainM a petty mound Beyond it, whence we saw the lights and heard The voices murmuring. While I listenM, came On a sudden the weird seizure and the doubt : 523. In every language you shoukl be called lord. 529. Addressed, turned IV.] A 3IEDLEY 81 I seemM to move among a world of ghosts ; The Princess with her monstrous woman-guard, 540 The jest and earnest working side by side. The cataract and the tumult and the kings Were shadows ; and the long fantastic night With all its doings had and had not been, And all things were and were not. This went by As strangely as it came, and on my spirits Settled a gentle cloud of melancholy ; Not long ; I shook it off ; for spite of doubts And sudden ghostly shadowings I was one To whom the touch of all mischance but came 550 As night to him that sitting on a hill Sees the midsummer, midnight, Norway sun Set into sunrise ; then we moved away. Thy voice is heard thro* rolling drums. That beat to battle where he stands ; Thy face across his fancy comes. And gives the battle to his hands : A moment, while the trumpets blow. He sees his brood about thy knee ; The next, like fire he meets the foe, 560 And strikes him dead for thine and thee. 552. Norway sun. The midsummer sun in Norway, within the Arctic circle, does not set, but is still visible at midnight. The Prince means that the light of his love was thus constant with him, and despair passed at once into hope again. 82 THE PRINCESS [IV. So Lilia sang : we thought her half-possess'd. She struck such warbling fury thro' the words ; And, after, feigning pique at what she calFd The raillery, or grotesque, or false sublime — Like one that wishes at a dance to change The music — clapt her hands and cried for war, Or some grand fight to kill and make an end : And he that next inherited the tale Half turning to the broken statue, said, 570 '' Sir Ealph has got your colours : if I prove Your knight, and fight your battle, what for me ? '' It chanced, her empty glove upon the tomb Lay by her like a model of her hand. She took it and she flung it. " Fight,'' she said, ^' And make us all we would be, great and good." He knightlike in his cap instead of casque, A cap of Tyrol borrowed from the hall. Arranged the favour, and assumed the Prince. v.] A MEDLEY 83 Now, scarce three paces measured from the mound. We stumbled on a stationary voice, And '' Stand, who goes V "^'Two from the palace " I. '' The second two : they wait," he said, '^^pass on ; His Highness wakes : " and one, that clash'd in arms. By glimmering lanes and walls of canvas led Threading the soldier-city, till we heard The drowsy folds of our great ensign shake From blazoned lions o^er the imperial tent Whispers of war. Entering, the sudden light 10 Dazed me half-blind : I stood and seemM to hear. As in a poplar grove when a light wind wakes A lisping of the innumerous leaf and dies. Each hissing in his neighbour's ear ; and then A strangled titter, out of which there brake On all sides, clamouring etiquette to death. Unmeasured mirth ; while now the two old kings Began to wag their baldness up and down. The fresh young captains flashed their glittering teeth. The huge bush-bearded Barons heaved and blew, 20 And slain with laughter rolFd the gilded Squire. At length my Sire, his rough cheek wet with tears. Panted from weary sides ^^King, you are free ! 1. The fifth speaker here begins. 2. Stationary voice, sentinel. 4. The first two were Cyril and Psyche. 5. His Highness, the King. 9. Blazon'd lions, lions emblazoned, or pictured, on the ensign. 13. Innumerous, innumerable. 14. Hissing, whispering. 21. Squire, in the feudal sense of an attendant youth, not yet a knight. 84 THE PRINCESS [V. We did but keep you surety for our son, If this be he, — or a draggled mawkin, thou, That tends her bristled grunters in the sludge : " For I was drenched with ooze, and torn with briers. More crumpled than a poppy from the sheath. And all one rag, disprinced from head to heel. Then some one sent beneath his vaulted palm 30 A whisper'd jest to some one near him, " Look, He has been among his shadows/^ ^' Satan take The old women and their shadows ! (thus the King KoarM) make yourself a man to fight with men. Go : Cyril told us all.'' As boys that slink From ferule and the trespass-chiding eye. Away we stole, and transient in a trice From what was left of faded woman-slough To sheathing splendours and the golden scale Of harness, issued in the sun, that now 40 Leapt from the dewy shoulders of the Earth, And hit the Northern hills. Here Cyril met us. A little shy at first, but by and by We twain, with mutual pardon ask'd and given For stroke and song, resolder'd peace, whereon Followed his tale. Amazed, he fled away Thro' the dark land, and later in the night Had come on Psyche weeping : '' then we fell Into your father's hand, and there she lies. But will not speak, nor stir." He show'd a tent 50 A stone-shot off : we enter'd in, and there 25. Mmvkin (malkin), kitchen-woman. 26. Sludge, mire. 28. From the sheath, just blossomed. 37. Transient, passing. 38. Woyrum-slough, woman garments. 40. Harness, armor, here made of overlapping small plates of gold, like a fish's scales. v.] A MEDLEY 85 Among piled arms and rough accoutrements, Pitiful sight, wrapped in a soldier's cloak, Like some sweet sculpture draped from head to foot. And pushed by rude hands from its pedestal, All her fair length upon the ground she lay : And at her head a follower of the camp, A charr'd and wrinkled piece of womanhood. Sat watching like a watcher by the dead. Then Florian knelt, and '' Come,''' he whispered to her, 60 '^ Lift up your head, sweet sister : lie not thus. What have you done but right ? you could not slay Me, nor your prince : look up : be comforted : Sweet is it to have done the thing one ought. When fall'n in darker ways.'' And likewise I : " Be comforted : have I not lost her too. In whose least act abides the nameless charm That none has else for me ? " She heard, she moved, She moan'd, a folded voice ; and up she sat. And raised the cloak from brows as pale and smooth 70 As those that mourn half-shrouded over death In deathless marble. '^ Her," she said, " my friend — Parted from her — betray'd her cause and mine — Where shall I breathe ? why kept ye not your faith ? base and bad ! what comfort ? none for me ! " To whom remorseful Cyril, '^ Yet I pray Take comfort : live, dear lady, for your child ! " At which she lifted up her voice and cried. " Ah me, my babe, my blossom, ah, my child. My one sweet child, whom I shall see no more ! 80 70. Rolfe refers the allusion specifically to Michael Angelo's Pieta at St. Peter s, but the text does not justify so exact an interpretation. 79. This highly wrought speech, in the manner of Tennyson's shorter idyls, stands out in poetic relief as the songs and idyl in VII. 86 THE PRINCESS [V. For now will cruel Ida keep her back ; And either she will die from want of care. Or sicken with ill-usage, when they say The child is hers — for every little fault. The child is hers ; and they will beat my girl Kemembering her mother : my flower ! Or they will take her, they will make her hard. And she will pass me by in after-life With some cold reverence worse than were she dead. Ill mother that I was to leave her there, 90 To lag behind, scared by the cry they made. The horror of the shame among them all : But I will go and sit beside the doors, And make a wild petition night and day, Until they hate to hear me like a wind Wailing for ever, till they open to me. And lay my little blossom at my feet. My babe, my sweet Aglaia, my one child : And I will take her up and go my way. And satisfy my soul with kissing her : 100 Ah ! what might that man not deserve of me Who gave me back my child ?" '' Be comforted/^ Said Cyril, '^you shall have it : " but again She veilM her brows, and prone she sank, and so Like tender things that being caught feign death. Spoke not, nor stirrM. By this a murmur ran Thro^ all the camp and inward raced the scouts With rumour of Prince Arac hard at hand. We left her by the woman, and without Found the gray kings at parle: and " Look you,^' cried 110 My father, '^ that our compact be fulfilled : You have spoilt this child ; she laughs at you and man : 89. Reverence, formal curtsey. 90. Ill, bad. 110. Parle, parley, formal conference. v.] A MEDLEY 87 She wrongs herself, her sex, and me, and him : But red-faced war has rods of steel and fire ; She yields, or war." Then Gama turn'd to me : '^ We fear, indeed, you spent a stormy time With our strange girl : and yet they say that still You love her. Give us, then, your mind at large : How say you, war or not ? " '*Not war, if possible, king," I said, '' lest from the abuse of war, 120 The desecrated shrine, the trampled year. The smouldering liomestead, and the household flower Torn from the lintel — all the common wrong — A smoke go up thro' which I loom to her Three times a monster : now she lightens scorn At him that mars her plan, but then would hate (And every voice she talk'd with ratify it. And every face she lookM on justify it) The general foe. More soluble is this knot. By gentleness than war. I want her love. 130 What were I nigher this altho' we dashed Your cities into shards with catapults. She would not love ; — or brought her chain'd, a slave. The lifting of whose eyelash is my lord, Not ever would she love ; but brooding turn The book of scorn, till all my flitting chance Were caught within the record of her wrongs. And crushed to death : and rather. Sire, than this 1 would the old God of war himself were dead, Forgotten, rusting on his iron hills, 140 Rotting on some wild shore with ribs of wreck, 121. Year, harvest. 132. Shards, fragments, used of hard, earthen substances. Catapults, engines for bombardment. 136. Flitting chance, passing chance, with a suggested meaning of slight hope. 88 TEE PRINCESS [V. Or like an old-world mammotli bulk'd in ice, Not to be molten out/^ And roughly spake My father^ " Tut, you know them not, the girls. Boy, when I hear you prate I almost think That idiot legend credible. Look you. Sir ! Man is the hunter ; woman is his game : The sleek and shining creatures of the chase. We hunt them for the beauty of their skins ; They love us for it, and we ride them down. 150 Wheedling and siding with them ! Out ! for shame ! Boy, there^'s no rose that's half so dear to them As he that does the thing they dare not do. Breathing and sounding beauteous battle, comes With the air of the trumpet round him, and leaps in Among the women, snares them by the score Flattered and flustered, wins, tho' dash'd with death He reddens what he kisses : thus I won Your mother, a good mother, a good wife. Worth winning ; but this firebrand — gentleness 160 To such as her ! if Cyril spake her true. To catch a dragon in a cherry net. To trip a tigress with a gossamer. Were wisdom to it/' " Yea but Sire," I cried, " Wild natures need wise curbs. The soldier ? No : What dares not Ida do that she should j^rize The soldier ? I beheld her, when she rose The yesternight, and storming in extremes, 142, Mammoth, the prehistoric monstrous animal sometimes found entire (in his whole bulk) in Arctic ice. 146. Idiot legend, of the old sorcerer {cf. I. , 5). 157. DasWd with death, red from the fight ; here with a reference to the " rose " above. 162. Cherry net, a net placed over cherry trees to protect the fruit from birds. 166. Cf. 153, above. 168. In extremes, violently. v.] A 3IEDLEY 89 Stood for her cause^ and flung defiance down Gagelike to man, and had not shunn'd the death, 170 No, not the soldiers : yet I hold her, King, True woman : but you clash them all in one. That have as many differences as we. The violet varies from the lily as far As oak from elm : one loves the soldier, one The silken priest of peace, one this, one that. And some unworthily ; their sinless faith, A maiden moon that sparkles on a sty. Glorifying clown and satyr ; whence they need More breadth of culture : is not Ida right ? 180 They worth it ? truer to the law within ? Severer in the logic of a life ? Twice as magnetic to sweet influences Of earth and heaven ? and she of whom you speak. My mother, looks as whole as some serene Creation minted in the golden moods Of sovereign artists ; not a thought, a touch. But pure as lines of green that streak the white Of the first snowdrop^'s inner leaves ; I say, Not like the piebald miscellany, man, 190 Bursts of great heart and slips in sensual mire. But whole and one : and take them all-in-all, Were we ourselves but half as good, as kind, As truthful, much that Ida claims as right Had ne^er been mooted, but as frankly theirs As dues of Nature. To our point : not war : Lest I lose all/^ 170. Gagelike, as the knight flung his glove, or gage of battle, before his enemy as a sign of challenge to combat. 179. Satyr, a mythological being, half human and half goatish by nature ; here used as a metaphor for the animal, as cloivn is for the vulgar, in man. 183. llagnetic, turning toward and becoming charged with. 186. Creation, ideal picture. 190. Piebald, spotted with different colors, like some horses. 195. Mooted, put in question. 90 THE PRINCESS [V. '' Nay, nay, you spake but sense/^ Said Grama. ^'We remember love ourself In our sweet youth ; we did not rate him then This red-hot iron to be shaped with blows. 200 You talk almost like Ida : she can talk ; And there is something in it as you say : But you talk kindlier : we esteem you for it. — He seems a gracious and a gallant Prince, I would he had our daughter : for the rest, Our own detention, why, the causes weighed. Fatherly fears — you used ns courteously — We would do much to gratify your Prince — We pardon it ; and for your ingress here Upon the skirt and fringe of our fair land, 210 You did but come as goblins in the night, Nor in the furrow broke the ploughman's head, Nor burnt the grange, nor buss'd the milking-maid. Nor robVd the farmer of his bowl of cream : But let your Prince (our royal word npon it. He comes back safe) ride with ns to our lines. And speak with Arac : Arac's word is thrice As ours with Ida : something may be done — I know not what — and ours shall see us friends. You, likewise, our late guests, if so you will, 220 Follow ns : who knows ? we four may build some plan Foursquare to opposition.'" Here he reached White hands of farewell to my sire, who growl'd An answer which, half-muffled in his beard. Let so much out as gave us leave to go. 204. Oama here turns and addresses the King. 211. Goblins, elves that visit the household, sometimes mischiev- ous, but not of bad nature, as in Milton's L' Allegro, 105. 213, Buss'd, kissed. 220. You, Florian and Cyril. 222. Foursquare, a metaphor for impregnable. v.] A MEDLEY 91 Then rode we with the old king across the lawns Beneath huge trees, a thousand rings of Spring In every bole, a song on every spray Of birds that piped their Valentines, and woke Desire in me to infuse my tale of love 230 In the old king's ears, who promised help, and oozed All o'er with honey'd answer as we rode And blossom-fragrant slipt the heavy dews Gathered by night and peace, with each light air On our mail'd heads : but other thoughts than Peace Burnt in us, when we saw the embattled squares. And squadrons of the Prince, trampling the flowers With clamour : for among them rose a cry As if to greet the king ; they made a halt ; The horses yelFd ; they clash'd their arms ; the drum 240 Beat ; merrily-blowing shrill'd the martial fife ; And in the blast and bray of the long horn And serpent-throated bugle, undulated The banner : anon to meet us lightly pranced Three captains out ; nor ever had I seen Such thews of men : the midmost and the highest Was Arac : all about his motion clung The shadow of his sister, as the beam Of the East, that play'd upon them, made them glance Like those three stars of the airy Giant's zone, 250 That glitter burnish'd by the frosty dark ; And as the fiery Sirius alters hue, 227. Trees a thousand years old, the growth of each year making one ring in the trunk. 229. Vale7itines, love-messages. 233. Slipt ; i.e., from the boughs. 246. Thews, muscles and sinews ; here used for the athletes them- selves. 248. Arac resembled his sister, and reminded the Prince of her figure. 250. Airy Gianfs zone, the belt of Orion, the giant hunter, who was set in the heavens as the constellation of that name. 251. Frosty. Orion is a winter constellation in England. 252. Sirius, the dog-star. 92 THE PRINCESS [V. And bickers into red and emerald^ shone Their morions, washed with morning, as they came. And 1 that prated peace, when first I heard War-music, felt the blind wildbeast of force. Whose home is in the sinews of a man. Stir in me as to strike : then took the king His three broad sons ; with now a wandering hand And now a pointed finger, told them all : 260 A common light of smiles at our disguise Broke from their lips, and, ere the windy jest Had laboured down within his ample lungs. The genial giant, Arac, roll'd himself Thrice in the saddle, then burst out in words. ^' Our land invaded, ^sdeath ! and he himself Your ca2otive, yet my father wills not war : And, 'sdeath ! myself, what care I, war or no ? But then this question of your troth remains : And there's a downright honest meaning in her ; 270 She flies too high, she flies too high ! and yet She ask\l but space and fairplay for her scheme ; She prest and prest it on me — I myself. What know I of these things ? but, life and soul ! I thought her half-right talking of her wrongs ; I say she flies too high, 'sdeath ! what of that ? I take her for the flower of womankind. And so I often told her, right or wrong. And, Prince, she can be sweet to those she loves. And, right or wrong, I care not : this is all, 280 I stand upon her side : she made me swear it — 254. 3Iorio?is, helmets ; the helmets shine with the rays of the morning as Sirius does when rising from the wave. The simile is from Homer. Iliad, v., 5. 266. 'Sdeath, God's death, meaning the death on the Cross ; an old oath. 269. Troth, betrothal. v.] A MEDLEY 93 ''Sdeath — and with solemn I'ites by candle-light — Swear by St. something — I forget her name — Her that talked down the fifty wisest men ; She was a princess too ; and so I swore. Come, this is all ; she will not : waive your claim : If not, the fonghten field, what else, at once Decides it, ^sdeath ! against my father's will.^' I lagg'd in answer loth to render up My precontract, and loth by brainless war 290 To cleave the rift of difference deeper yet ; Till one of those two brothers, half aside And fingering at the hair about his lip. To prick us on to combat " Like to like ! The woman's garment hid the woman's heart.-" A taunt that clench'd his purpose like a blow ! For fiery-short was Cyril's counter-scoff. And sharp I answer'd, touch'd upon the point Where idle boys are cowards to their shame, ^' Decide it here : why not ? we are three to three." 300 Then spake the third '' But three to three ? no more ? No more, and in our noble sister's cause ? More, more, for honour : every captain waits Hungry for honour, angry for his king. More, more, some fifty on a side, that each May breathe himself, and quick ! by overthrow Of these or those, the question settled die." 284. Rer, St. Catherine of Alexandria, a half-mythical Christian saint of the fourth century, patroness of philosophy, who converted fifty learned men sent by the Emperor Maxentius to dispute with her. 285. Princess, St. Catherine was a daughter of Sabinella, Queen of Egypt, and of Costus, half-brother of the Emperor Constantine. 299. Cowards to their shame, afraid to face the shame they would feel, though wrongly, for not fighting ; or some may prefer the sim- pler interpretation — so as to bring on them shame, or to their dishonor. 306. Breathe, exercise. 94 THE PRINCESS [V. '^ Yea," answered I, ^'^for this wild wreath of air. This flake of rainbow flying on the highest Foam of men's deeds — this honour, if ye wilh 310 It needs must be for honour if at all : Since, what decision ? if we fail, we fail. And if we win, we fail : she would not keep Her compact." ^^'Sdeath ! but we will send to her," Said Arac, ^''worthy reasons why she should Bide by this issue : let our missive thro'. And you shall have her answer by the word." '' Boys ! " shriek'd the old king, but vainlier than a hen To her false daughters in the pool ; for none Kegarded ; neither seem'd there more to say : 320 Back rode we to my father's camp, and found He thrice had sent a herald to the gates, To learn if Ida yet would cede our claim. Or by denial flush her babbling wells With her own people's life : three times he went : The first, he blew and blew, but none appear'd : He batter'd at the doors ; none came : the next, An awful voice within had warn'd him thence : The third, and those eight daughters of the plough Came sallying thro' the gates, and caught his hair, 330 And so belabour'd him on rib and cheek They made him wild : not less one glance he caught Thro' open doors of Ida station'd there Unshaken, clinging to her purpose, firm Tho' compass'd by two armies and the noise Of arms ; and standing like a stately Pine Set in a cataract on an island-crag, 316. Bide by this issue, stand by the result of the fight. 317. Bij the word, in the very words she uses in her reply. 319. False daughters, ducks that she has hatched. 323. Cede, grant. 324. Flush, fill full, with also the second meaning, stain red. v.] A MEDLEY 95 When storm is on the heights, and right and left SuckM from the dark heart of the long hills roll The torrents, dash^'d to the vale : and yet her will 340 Bred will in me to overcome it or fall. But when I told the king that I was pledged To fight in tourney for my bride, he clashed His iron palms together with a cry ; Himself would tilt it out among the lads : But overborne by all his bearded lords AVith reasons drawn from age and state, perforce He yielded, wroth and red, with fierce demur : And many a bold knight started up in heat. And sware to combat for my claim till death. 350 All on this side the palace ran the field Flat to the garden-wall ; and likewise here. Above the garden's glowing blossom-belts, A columned entry shone and marble stairs, And great bronze valves, emboss'd with Tomyris And what she did to Cyrus after fight. But now fast barr'd : so here upon the flat All that long morn the lists were hammer'd up, And all that morn the heralds to and fro. With message and defiance, went and came ; 360 Last, Ida's answer, in a royal hand. But shaken here and there, and rolling words Oration-like. I kiss'd it and I read. 338. Right and left; i.e., of the pine which stands directly over the cataract, with the rapids on either side uniting in the fall below, 344. Iron palms, gauntlets. 355. Valves, gates. Tomyris, the queen of the Massagetae, who, after defeating and killing Cyrus (529 B.C.), took his head, and dipping it in blood, bade him drink his fill. 358. Wallace refers to Scott's Ivanhoe, ch. viii., as a convenient source for a vivid account of these preparations. 96 THE PRINCESS [V. " brother, you have known the pangs we felt, What heats of indignation when we heard Of those that iron-cramp'd their women's feet : Of lands in which at the altar the poor bride Gives her harsh groom for bridal-gift a scourge ; Of living hearts that crack within the fire Where smoulder their dead despots ; and of those, — 370 Mothers, — that, all prophetic pity, fling Their pretty maids in the running flood, and swoops The vulture, beak and talon, at the heart Made for all noble motion : and I saw That equal baseness lived in sleeker times AVith smoother men : the old leaven leavened all : Millions of throats would bawl for civil rights. No woman named : therefore I set my face Against all men, and lived but for mine own. Farofl from men I built a fold for them : 380 I stored it full of rich memorial : I fenced it round with gallant institutes. And biting laws to scare the beasts of prey And prosperM ; till a rout of saucy boys Brake on us at our books, and marr'd our peace, Mask'd like our maids, blustering I know not what Of insolence and love, some pretext held Of baby troth, invalid, since my will Seal'd not the bond — the striplings ! — for their sport !— - I tamed my leopards : shall I not tame these ? 390 366. Cf. II., 118. 367. Lands, Russia, 369. In India the widow was burned on her husband's funeral pyre. 371. Prophetic pity, fearing that their daughters would not be married before a certain age, and hence in Hindoo opinion would be dishonored. 372. Flood, the Ganges. 378. The vulture swoops down on the infants as soon as they are thrown into the river. 381. Memorial, commemorative works of art. 382. Institutes, regulations. v.] A MEDLEY 97 Or you ? or I ? for since you think me touched In honour — what, I would not aught of false — Is not our cause pure ? and whereas I know Your prowess, Arac, and what mother's blood You draw from, fight ; you failing, I abide What end soever : fail you will not. Still Take not his life : he risked it for my own ; His mother lives : yet whatsoe'er you do. Fight and fight well ; strike and strike home. dear Brothers, the woman's Angel guards you, you 400 The sole men to be mingled with our cause, The sole men we shall prize in the after-time. Your very armour hallow'd, and your statues Rear'd, sung to, when, this gad-fly brush'd aside, AVe plant a solid foot into the Time, And mould a generation strong to move With claim on claim from right to right, till she Whose name is yoked with children's, knoAV herself ; And Knowledge in our own land make her free. And, ever following those two crowned twins, 410 Commerce and conquest, shower the fiery grain Of freedom broadcast over all that orbs Between the Northern and the Southern morn." Then came a postscript dash'd across the rest. " See that there be no traitors in your camp : 400. Woma7i's Angel, cf. I., 207. 404. Gad-fly, this present petty trouble. 405. Time, the contemporary progressive age. 408. Yoked with childreii's. Women and children are spoken of and classed together as dependants, persons who require protection and should give obedience. 411. Commerce often follows conquest ; and these two, Trade and Power, will extend civilization, of which freedom is the fiery seed, over the earth. The thought is natural to an Englishman, and the view is frequently expressed by Tennyson. 412. All that orbs, all that is sphered between the two poles ; i.e., the whole orb of earth. 98 THE PRINCESS [V. We seem a nest of traitors — none to trust Since our arms faiFd — this Egypt-plague of men ! Almost our maids were better at their homes^ Than thus man-girdled here : indeed I think Our chiefest comfort is the little child 420 Of one unworthy mother ; which she left : She shall not have it back : the child shall grow To prize the authentic mother of her mind. I took it for an hour in mine own bed This morning : there the tender orphan hands Felt at my heart, and seemed to charm from thence The wrath I nursed against the world : farewell/' I ceased ; he said, " Stubborn, but she may sit Upon a king's right hand in thunderstorms. And breed up warriors ! See now, tho' yourself 430 Be dazzled by the wildfire Love to sloughs That swallow common sense, the spindling king, This Gama svvamp'd in lazy tolerance. When the man wants weight, the woman takes it up. And topples down the scales ; but this is fixt As are the roots of earth and base of all ; Man for the field and woman for the hearth : Man for the sword and for the needle she : Man with the head and woman with the heart : Man to command and woman to obey ; 440 All else confusion. Look you ! the gray mare Is ill to live with, when her whinny shrills 417. Arms, Lady Psyche and Lady Blanche. Egypt-plague, as if men were a pestilence of frogs or the other creatures that were sent on Egypt. Exodus viii.-x. 423. Authentic mother. The Princess wishes to regard the one who forms the child's mind as its true mother. 431. The metaphor is that of the will-o'-the-wisp. 434. Gama's weakness is the occasion of the ascendancy of the Princess. 441. The gray mare. The allusion is to the proverb, "the gray mare is the better horse, " used of a wife who rules her husband. v.] A MEDLEY 99 From tile to scullery, and her small goodman Shrinks in his arm-chair while the fires of Hell Mix with his hearth : but you — she's yet a colt — Take, break her : strongly groom'd and straitly curbed She might not rank with those detestable That let the bantling scald at home, and brawl Their rights or wrongs like potherbs in the street. They say she's comely ; there's the fairer chance : 450 / like her none the less for rating at her ! Besides, the woman wed is not as we, But suffers change of frame. A lusty brace Of twins may weed her of her folly. Boy, The bearing and the training of a child Is woman's wisdom." Thus the hard old king : I took my leave, for it was nearly noon : I pored upon her letter which I held, And on the little clause " take not his life : " I mused on that wild morning in the woods, 460 And on the " Follow, follow, thou shalt win : " I thought on all the wrathful king had said, And how the strange betrothment was to end : Then I remember'd that burnt sorcerer's curse That one should fight with shadows and should fall ; And like a flash the weird affection came : King, camp and college turn'd to hollow shows ; I seem'd to move in old memorial tilts. And doing battle with forgotten ghosts To dream myself the shadow of a dream : 470 And ere I woke it was the point of noon. The lists were ready. Empanoplied and plumed We enter'd in, and waited, fifty there 443. Tile to scullery, roof to cellar. 448. Bantling, infant. 449. Potherbs, vegetables. 460. 3Iorning. Cf. I„ 90-100. 472. Empanoplied, fully armed. 100 THE PRINCESS [V. Opposed to fifty, till the trumpet blared At the barrier like a wild horn in a land Of echoes, and a moment, and once more The trumpet, and again : at which the storm Of galloping hoofs bare on the ridge of spears And riders front to front, until they closed In conflict with the crash of shivering points, 480 And thunder. Yet it seem'd a dream, I dream^'d Of fighting. On his haunches rose the steed. And into fiery splinters leapt the lance. And out of stricken helmets sprang the fire. Part sat like rocks : part reel'd but kept their seats : Part roird on the earth and rose again and drew : Part stumbled mixt with floundering horses. Down From those two bulks at Arac's side, and down From Arac^s arm, as from a giant's flail. The large blows rainM, as here and everywhere 490 He rode the mellay, lord of the ringing lists. And all the plain, — brand, mace, and shaft, and shield — Shocked, like an iron-clanging anvil bang'd With hammers ; till I thought, can this be he From Gama's dwarfish loins ? if this be so. The mother makes us most — and in my dream I glanced aside, and saw the palace-front Alive with fluttering scarfs and ladies' eyes. And highest, among the statues, statue-like. Between a cymbal'd Miriam and a Jael, 500 With Psyche's babe, was Ida watching us, A single band of gold about her hair, 475. Horn. Cf. Song, page GO. 478. Bare on, bore forward. 488. Two hulks, his brothers. 491. 3Iellay, the confused fight. 500. Miriam, the Hebrew prophetess, who sang to the cymbals the song of triumph over Pharaoh by the Red Sea. Exodus xv. 20, 21. Jael, the Jewish woman who killed Sisera by driving a nail through his temple. Judges iv. 17-22. v.] A MEDLEY 101 Like a Saint's glory up in heaven : but sAe No saint — inexorable — no tenderness — Too hard, too cruel : yet she sees me fight. Yea, let her see me fall ! with that I drave Among the thickest and bore down a Prince, And Cyril, one. Yea, let me make my dream All that I would. But that large-moulded man, His visage all agrin as at a wake, 510 Made at me thro" the press, and, staggering back With stroke on stroke the horse and horseman, came As comes a pillar of electric cloud. Flaying the roofs and sucking up the drains, And shadowing down the champaign till it strikes On a wood, and takes, and breaks, and cracks, and splits. And twists the grain with such a roar that Earth Reels, and the herdsmen cry ; for everything Gave way before him : only Florian, he That loved me closer than his own right eye, 520 Thrust in between ; but Arac rode him down : And Cyril seeing it, push'd against the Prince, With Psyche's colour round his helmet, tough, Strong, supple, sinew-corded, apt at arms ; But tougher, heavier, stronger, he that smote And threw him : last I spurr'd ; I felt my veins Stretch with fierce heat ; a moment hand to hand. And sword to sword, and horse to horse we hung, Till I struck out and shouted ; the blade glanced, I did but shear a feather, and dream and truth 530 Flow'd from me ; darkness closed me ; and I fell. 503. SamVs glory, aureole, the ring of light round the head of a saint as represented in pictures. 507-508. A Prince, And Cyril, one, the two brothers of Arac. Cf. v., 488. 512. The liorse and horseman, the press of knights generally. 513. Pillar, a cyclone. 530, 531. Dream and truth Ploiv'd from ine. His trance deepened into entire unconsciousness. 102 THE PRINCESS [VL VI. Home they brought her warrior dead She nor swoon'd, nor utter'd cry : All her maidens, watching, said, '' She must weep or she will die/' Then they praised him, soft and low, Caird him worthy to be loved, Truest friend and noblest foe ; Yet she neither spoke nor moved. Stole a maiden from her place. Lightly to the warrior stept, Took the face-cloth from the face ; Yet she neither moved nor wept. Eose a nurse of ninety years. Set his child upon her knee — Like summer tempest came her tears- ^' Sweet my child, I live for thee.'' VI.] A MEDLEY 103 My dream had never died or lived again. As in some mystic middle state I lay ; Seeing I saw not, hearing not I heard : Tho^ if I saw not, yet they told me all So often that I speali as having seen. For so it seemed, or so they said to me, That all things grew more tragic and more strange ; That when onr side was vanquish^l and my cause For ever lost, there went up a great cry, The Prince is slain. My father heard and ran 10 In on the lists, and there unlaced my casque And groveird on my body, and after him Game Psyche, sorrowing for Aglai'a. But high upon the palace Ida stood With Psyche^'s babe in arm : there on the roofs Like that great dame of Lapidoth she sang. '^ Our enemies have falFn, have falVn : the seed, The little seed they laugliM at in the dark. Has risen and cleft the soil, and grown a bulk Of spanless girth, that lays on every side 20 A thousand arms and rushes to the Sun. 1. The sixth speaker here begins. The Prince means, in full, that his state of trance had either never passed, though he has just stated (c/. v., 531) that he was unconscious, or else that it now returned in his semi-conscious state. 16. Great dame of Lapidoth, Deborah, wife of Lapidoth, the Hebrew prophetess, who sang the song of triumph ovei-«6isera. Judgesiy.-y. 17. The song lii^ens the cause of woman to a tree, and sings its triumph under the image of a tree's growth. 104 THE PRINCESS [VI. " Our enemies have falFn, have falFn : they came ; The leaves were wet with women's tears : they heard A noise of songs they would not understand : They marked it with the red cross to the fall, And would have strown it, and are falFn themselves. '' Our enemies have falFn, have falFn : they came. The woodmen with their axes : lo the tree ! But we will make it faggots for the hearth, And shape it plank and beam for roof and floor, 30 And boats and bridges for the use of men. ''^ Our enemies have fall'n, have falFn: they struck; With their own blows they hurt themselves, nor knew There dwelt an iron nature in the grain: The glittering axe was broken in their arms, Their arms were shattered to the shoulder blade. ^' Our enemies have falFn, but this shall grow A night of Summer from the heat, a breadth Of Autumn, dropping fruits of power: and rolFd With music in the growing breeze of Time, 40 The tops shall strike from star to star, the fangs Shall move the stony bases of the world. '^ And now, maids, behold our sanctuary Is violate, our laws broken :. fear we not To break them more in their behoof, whose arms Championed our cause and won it with a day Blanch'd in our annals, and perpetual feast. When dames and heroines of the golden year Shall strip a hundred hollows bare of Spring, To rain an April of ovation round 50 Their statues, borne aloft, the three : but come, 25. They marked the tree with a red cross as a sign to the wood- men to fell it. 47. Blancli'd, made a holiday. 48. Golden year, the perfect age to come. 49. Spring, blossoming shrubs, boughs, and flowers. 50. Ovation, triumph. VI.] A MEDLEY 105 We will be liberal^ since our rights are won. Let them not lie in the tents with coarse mankind, 111 nurses ; but descend, and proffer these The brethren of our blood and cause, that there Lie bruised and mainiM, the tender ministries Of female hands and hospitality." She spoke, and with the babe yet in her arms, Descending, burst the great bronze valves, and led A hundred maids in train across the Park. 60 Some cowl'd, and some bare-headed, on they came, Their feet in flowers, her loveliest : by them went The enamourM air sighing, and on their curls From the high tree the blossom wavering fell. And over them the tremulous isles of light Slided, they moving under shade : but Blanche At distance followM : so they came : anon Thro' open field into the lists they wound Timorously ; and as the leader of the herd That holds a stately fretwork to the Sun, 70 And followed up by a hundred airy does. Steps with a tender foot, light as on air. The lovely, lordly creature floated on To where her wounded brethren lay ; there stayed ; Knelt on one knee, — the child on one, — and prest Their hands and call'd them dear deliverers. And happy warriors, and immortal names, And said " You shall not lie in the tents but here. And nursed by those for whom you fought, and served With female hands and hospitality." 80 Then, whether moved by this, or was it chance. She past my way. Up started from my side The old lion, glaring with his whelpless eye, 65. Isles of light, the sunshine falling on them through the foUage. 70. Fretwork, his antlers. 106 THE PRINCESS [VI. Silent ; but when she saw me lying stark, Dishelm^d and mute, and motionlessly pale. Cold ev'n to her, she sighed ; and when she saw The haggard father's face and reverend beard Of grisly twine, all dabbled with the blood Of his own son, shudder'd, a twitch of pain Tortured her mouth, and o'er her forehead past 90 A shadow, and her hue changed, and she said : ^'^He saved my life : my brother slew him for it.'^ No more : at which the king in bitter scorn Drew from my neck the painting and the tress. And held them up : she saw them, and a day Rose from the distance on her memory. When the good Queen, her mother, shore the tress AVith kisses, ere the days of Lady Blanche : And then once more she look'd at my pale face : Till understanding all the foolish work 100 Of Fancy, and the bitter close of all. Her iron will was broken in her mind ; Her noble heart was molten in her breast ; She bow'd, she set the child on the earth ; she laid A feeling finger on my brows, and presently ^' Sire," she said, '^ he lives : he is not dead : let me have him with my brethren here In our own palace : we will tend on him Like one of these ; if so, by any means. To lighten this great clog of thanks, that make 110 Our progress falter to the woman's goal." She said : but at the happy word '' he lives " My father stoop'd, re-father'd o'er my wounds. So those two foes above my fallen life. With brow to brow like night and evening mixt Their dark and gray, while Psyche ever stole A little nearer, till the babe that by us, 94. Cf. I., 37, 38. VI.] A 3IEDLEY 107 Half-Iapt in glowing gauze and golden brede, Lay like a new-falFn meteor on the grass, Uncared for, spied its mother and began 120 A blind and babbling laughter, and to dance Its body, and reach its fatling innocent arms And lazy lingering fingers. She the appeal Brook'd not, but clamouring out ^^Mine — mine — not yours. It is not yours, but mine : give me the child ^' Ceased all on tremble : piteous was the cry : So stood the unhappy mother open-mouth'd. And turn'd each face her way : wan was her cheek With hollow watch, her blooming mantle torn. Red grief and mother^s hunger in her eye, 130 And down dead-heavy sank her curls, and half The sacred mother's bosom, panting, burst The laces toward her babe : but she nor cared Nor knew it, clamouring on, till Ida heard, Looked up, and rising slowly from me, stood Erect and silent, striking with her glance The mother, me, the child ; but he that lay Beside us, Cyril, batter'd as he was, TraiFd himself up on one knee : then he drew Her robe to meet his lips, and down she looked 140 At the arm'd man sideways, pitying as it seemM, Or self-involved ; but when she learnt his face. Remembering his ill-omen'd song, arose Once more thro' all her height, and o'er him grew Tall as a figure lengthened on the sand When the tide ebbs in sunshine, and he said : " fair and strong and terrible ! Lioness That with your long locks play the Lion's mane ! But Love and Nature, these are two more terrible 118. Golden hrede, embroidered with gold. 119. Cf. II., 94. 142. Self-involved, abstracted in her own thoughts. 108 THE PRINCESS [VI. And stronger. See, your foot is on our necks, 150 We vanquished, you the Victor of your will. What would you more ? give her the child ! remain Orb^d in your isolation : he is dead. Or all as dead : henceforth we let you be : Win you the hearts of women ; arid beware Lest, where you seek the common love of these. The common hate with the revolving wheel Should drag you down, and some great Nemesis Break from a darkened future, crown'd with fire. And tread you out for ever : but howsoe'er 160 Fix^d in yourself, never in your own arms To hold your own, deny not hers to her. Give her the child ! if, I say, you keep One pulse that beats true woman, if you loved The breast that fed or arm that dandled you. Or own one port of sense not flint to prayer. Give her the child ! or if you scorn to lay it. Yourself, in hands so lately claspt with yours. Or speak to her, your dearest, her one fault The tenderness, not yours, that could not kill, 170 Give me it : / will give it her." He said : At first her eye with slow dilation rolFd Dry flame, she listening ; after sank and sank And, into mournful twilight mellowing, dwelt Full on the child ; she took it : '' Pretty bud ! Lily of the vale ! half open'd bell of the woods ! Sole comfort of my dark hour, when a world Of traitorous friend and broken system made No purple in the distance, mystery. Pledge of a love not to be mine, farewell ; 180 These men are hard upon us as of old, 158. Nemesis, goddess of just, avenging fate. 166. Port, portal. 180. Love, wedded love. VI.] A MEDLEY 109 We two must part : and yet how fain was I To dream thy cause embraced in mine, to think I might be something to thee, when I felt Thy helpless warmth about my barren breast In the dead prime : but may thy mother prove As true to thee as false, false, false to me ! And, if thou needs must bear the yoke, I wish it Gentle as freedom " — here she kissM it : then — '^All good go with thee ! take it Sir," and so 190 Laid the soft babe in his hard-mailed hands, AVho turned half-round to Psyche as she sprang To meet it, with an eye that swum in thanks ; Then felt it sound and whole from head to foot. And hugg'd and never hugg'd it close enough. And in her hunger mouth\l and mumbled it. And hid her bosom with it ; after that Put on more calm and added suppliantly : *^ We two were friends : I go to mine own land For ever : find some other : as for me 200 I scarce am fit for your great plans : yet speak to me. Say one soft word and let me part forgiven/^ But Ida spoke not, rapt upon the child. Then Arac. '^^Ida — ^sdeath ! you blame the man ; You wrong yourselves — the woman is so hard Upon the woman. Come, a grace to me ! I am your warrior : I and mine have fought Your battle : kiss her : take her hand, she weeps : "Sdeath ! I would sooner fight thrice o^er than see it/^ But Ida spoke not, gazing on the ground, 210 And reddening in the furrows of his chin. And moved beyond his custom, Gama said : 186. Dead prime, the darkness just before dawn. 206. Grace, favor. 110 THE PRINCESS [VI. '^Fve heard that there is iron in the blood. And I believe it. Not one word ? not one ? Whence drew you this steel temper ? not from me, Not from your mother, now a saint with saints. She said you had a heart — I heard her say it — ^Our Ida has a heart ' — just ere she died — ' But see that some one with authority Be near her stilP and I — I sought for one — 220 All jDeople said she had authority — The Lady Blanche : much profit ! Not one word ; No ! tho^ your father sues : see how you stand Stiff as Lota's wife, and all the good knights maimM, I trust that there is no one hurt to death. For your wild whim : and was it then for this, Was it for this we gave our palace up. Where we withdrew from summer heats and state. And had our Avine and chess beneath the planes. And many a pleasant hour with her that^s gone, 230 Ere you were born to vex us ? Is it kind ? Speak to her I say : is this not she of whom. When first she came, all flush'd you said to me Now had you got a friend of your own age. Now could you share your thought ; now should men see Two women faster welded in one love Than pairs of wedlock ; she you walk'd with, she You talk'd with, whole nights long, up in the tower. Of sine and arc, spheroid and azimuth. And right ascension, Heaven knows what : and now 240 A word, but one, one little kindly word. Not one to spare her : out upon you, flint ! You love nor her, nor me, nor any ; nay. You shame your mother^s judgment too. Not one ? You will not ? well — no heart have you, or such As fancies like the vermin in a nut 224. Lofs ivife. Cf. Genesis xix. 239, 240. Terms of the higher mathematics and astronomy. VI.] A 3IEDLEY HX Have fretted all to dust and bitterness." So said the small king moved beyond his wont. But Ida stood nor spoke, drain'd of her force By many a varying influence and so long. 250 Down thro' her limbs a drooping languor wept : Her head a little bent : and on her mouth A doubtful smile dwelt like a clouded moon In a still water : then brake out my sire, Lifting his grim head from my wounds. '^ you. Woman, whom we thought woman even now. And were half fool'd to let you tend our son. Because he might have wish'd it — but we see The accomplice of your madness unforgiven. And think that you might mix his draught with death, 260 When your skies change again : the rougher hand Is safer : on to the tents : take up the Prince." He rose, and while each ear was prick'd to attend A tempest, thro' the cloud that dimm'd her broke A genial warmth and light once more, and shone Thro' glittering drops on her sad friend. " Come hither. Psyche," she cried out, ^^ embrace me, come. Quick while I melt ; make reconcilement sure With one that cannot keep her mind an hour : Come to the hollow heart they slander so ! 270 Kiss and be friends, like children being chid ! / seem no more : / want forgiveness too : 1 should have had to do with none but maids. That have no links with men. Ah false but dear. Dear traitor, too much loved, why ? — why ? — Yet see. Before these kings we embrace you yet once more With all forgiveness, all oblivion. And trust, not love, you less. 266. Drops, tears. 112 TEE PRINCESS [VI. And now, sire. Grant me your son, to nurse, to wait upon him. Like mine own brother. For my debt to him, 280 This nightmare weight of gratitude, I know it ; Taunt me no more : yourself and yours shall have Free adit ; we will scatter all our maids Till happier times each to her proper hearth : What use to keep them here — now ? grant my prayer. Help, father, brother, help ; speak to the king : Thaw this male nature to some touch of that AYhich kills me with myself, and drags me down From my fixt height to mob me up with all The soft and milky rabble of womankind, 290 Poor weakling ev'n as they are/' Passionate tears Followed : the king replied, not : Cyril said : ^^ Your brother. Lady, — Florian, — ask for him Of your great head — for he is wounded too — That you may tend upon him with the Prince/^ '^Ay so," said Ida with a bitter smile, ^' Our laws are broken : let him enter too.'' Then Violet, she that sang the mournful song. And had a cousin tumbled on the plain, Petition'd too for him. ''Ay so," she said, 300 " I stagger in the stream : I cannot keep My heart an eddy from the brawling hour : AVe break our laws with ease, but let it be." ''Ay so ?" said Blanche : " Amazed am I to hear Your Highness : but your Highness breaks with ease The law your Highness did not make : 'twas I. I had been wedded wife, I knew mankind. And block'd them out ; but these men came to woo Your Highness — verily I think to win." 283. Adit, entrance. 284. Proper, own. 289. 3Ioh me up, make me one of the mob of. 298. Song. Cf. IV., 21. VI.] A MEDLEY 113 So slie, and turned askance a wintry eye ; 310 But Ida with a voice^ that like a bell Toird by an earthquake in a trembling tower, Eang ruin, answered full of grief and scorn. ^^ Fling 'Our doors wide ! all, all, not one, but all. Not only he, but by my mother's soul, Whatever man lies wounded, friend or foe. Shall enter, if he will. Let our girls flit. Till the storm die ! but had you stood by us. The roar that breaks the Pharos from his base Had left us rock. She fain would sting us too, 320 But shall not. Pass, and mingle with your likes. We brook no further insult but are gone." She turned ; the very nape of her white neck Was rosed with indignation : but the Prince Her brother came ; the king her father charm'd Her wounded soul with words : nor did mine own Eefuse her proffer, lastly gave his hand. Then us they lifted up, dead weights, and bare Straight to the doors : to them the doors gave way Groaning, and in the Vestal entry shrieked 330 The virgin marble under iron heels : And on they moved and gain'd the hall, and there Eested : but great the crush was, and each base. To left and right, of those tall columns drown'd In silken fluctuation and the swarm Of female whisperers : at the further end W^as Ida by the throne, the two great cats Close by her, like supporters on a shield, 319. Pharos, the famous ancient lighthouse built on the isle of Pharos, near Alexandria. 330. Vestal, sacred to maidenhood. 337. Cats, the tame leopards. 338. Supporters, the figures that stand on either side of a coat of arms. 114 THE PRINCESS [VI. Bow-back'd with fear : but in the centre stood The common men with rolling eyes ; amazed 340 They glared npon the women, and aghast The women stared at these, all silent, save When armour clashM or jingled, while the day. Descending, struck athwart the hall, and shot A flying splendour out of brass and steel, That o'er the statues leapt from head to head, Now fired an angry Pallas on the helm, Now set a wrathful Dian's moon on flame, And now and then an echo started up. And shuddering fled from room to room, and died 350 Of fright in far apartments. Then the voice Of Ida sounded, issuing ordinance : And me they bore up the broad stairs, and thro' The long-laid galleries past a hundred doors To one deep chamber shut from sound, and due To languid limbs and sickness ; left me in it ; And others otherwhere they laid ; and all That afternoon a sound arose of hoof And chariot, many a maiden passing home Till happier times ; but some were left of those 360 Held sagest, and the great lords out and in. From those two hosts that lay beside the walls, Walk'd at their will, and every tiling was changed. 348. Iloon. Diana is represented with her symbol, the crescent moon, above her head Kke a crown. 352. Ordinance, orders. 355. Due, the due of, that which illness should have. VII.] A MEDLEY 115 VII. Ask me no more : the moon may draw the sea ; The cloud may stoop from heaven and take the shape With fold to fold, of mountain or of cape ; But too fond, when have I answered thee ? Ask me no more. Ask me no more : what answer should I give ? I love not hollow cheek or faded eye : Yet, my friend, I will not have thee die ! Ask me no more, lest I should bid thee live ; Ask me no more. Ask me no more : thy fate and mine are seaFd : I strove against the stream and all in vain : Let the great river take me to the main : No more, dear love, for at a touch I yield ; Ask me no more. 116 TEE PRINCESS [VII. So was their sanctuary violated. So their fair college turned to hospital ; At first with all confusion : by and by Sweet order lived again with other laws : A kindlier influence reignM ; and everywhere Low voices with the ministering hand Hung round the sick : the maidens came, they talk\I, They sang, they read : till she not fair began To gather light, and she that was, became Her former beauty treble ; and to and fro 10 AVith books, with flowers, with Angel offices. Like creatures native unto gracious act. And in their own clear element, they moved. But sadness on the soul of Ida fell, And hatred of her weakness, blent with shame. Old studies failed ; seldom she spoke : but oft Clomb to the roofs, and gazed alone for hours On that disastrous leaguer, swarms of men Darkening her female field : void was her use. And she as one that climbs a peak to gaze 20 O'er land and main, and sees a great black cloud Drag inward from the deeps, a wall of night, Blot out the slope of sea from 'verge to shore. And suck the blinding splendour from the sand. And quenching lake by lake and tarn by tarn Expunge the world : so fared she gazing there ; 1. The seventh and last speaker here begins. 12. Native imto, born in the world of. 17. Clomb, climbed. 18: Leaguer, the armies lying as in siege about the place. 19. Void ivas her use, gone was her customary occupation. 23. Verge, horizon. 25. Tar7i, small dark pond. VII.] A 3IEDLEY 117 So blackenM all her world in secret, blank And waste it seem'd and vain ; till down she came, And found fair peace once more among the sick. And twilight dawnM ; and morn by morn the lark 30 Shot up and shrill'd in flickering gyres, but I Lay silent in the muffled cage of life : And twilight gloom'd ; and broader-grown the bowers Drew the great night into themselves, and Heaven, Star after star, arose and fell ; but I, Deeper than those weird doubts could reach me, lay Quite sunder'd from the moving Universe, Nor knew what eye was on me, nor the hand That nursed me, more than infants in their sleep. But Psyche tended Florian : with her oft, 40 Melissa came ; for Blanche had gone, but left Her child among us, willing she should keep Court-favour : here and there the small bright head, A light of healing, glanced about the couch. Or thro^ the parted silks the tender face Peeped, shining in upon the wounded man With blush and smile, a medicine in themselves To wile the length from languorous hours, and draw The sting from pain ; nor seem'd it strange that soon He rose up whole, and those fair charities 50 Join\l. at her side ; nor stranger seemed that hearts So gentle, so employ'd, should close in love. Than when two dewdrops on the petal shake To the same sweet air, and tremble deeper down, And slip at once all-fragrant into one. Less prosperously the second suit obtain'd At first with Psyche. Not tho^ Blanche had sworn 31. Gyres, circles. 45. Silks, curtains of the beds. 51. Join''d. Florian united with Melissa in her services to the wounded. 118 THE PRINCESS [VII. That after that dark night among the fields She needs must wed him for her own good name ; Not tho^ he built upon the babe restored ; 60 Nor tho^ she liked him, yielded she, but fear'd To incense the Head once more : till on a day When Cyril pleaded, Ida came behind Seen but of Psyche : on her foot she hung A moment, and she heard, at which her face A little flusliM, and she past on ; but each Assumed from thence a half-consent involved In stillness, plighted troth, and were at peace. Nor only these : Love in the sacred halls Held carnival at will, and flying struck 70 With showers of random sweet on maid and man. Nor did her father cease to ^Dress my claim. Nor did mine own, now reconciled ; nor yet Did those twin brothers, risen again and whole ; Nor Arac, satiate with his victory. But I lay still, and with me oft she sat : Then came a change ; for sometimes I would catch Her hand in wild delirium, gripe it hard. And fling it like a viper off, and shriek ^' You are not Ida ; '' clasp it once again, 80 And call her Ida, tho' I knew her not. And call her sweet, as if in irony, And call her hard and cold which seemed a truth : And still she fear'd that I should lose my mind. And often she believed that I should die : Till out of long frustration of her care. And pensive tendance in the all-weary noons. And watches in the dead, the dark, when clocks 60. Built, built his hopes. Cf. V., 101, 102. 67, 68. Involved In stillness, impHed by her silence. 71. Showers. At a carnival it is the custom to pelt the crowds with flowers and sweetmeats. 88. Dead, the dead of night. VIL] A MEDLEY 119 Throbb'd thunder thro' the palace floors, or calPd On flying Time from all their silver tongues — 90 And out of memories of her kindlier days. And sidelong glances at my father's grief. And at the happy lovers heart in heart — And out of hauntings of my spoken love, And lonely listenings to my mutter'd dream, And often feeling of the helpless hands. And wordless broodings on the wasted cheek — From all a closer interest flourished up, Tenderness touch by touch, and last, to these. Love, like an Alpine harebell hung with tears 100 By some cold morning glacier ; frail at first And feeble, all unconscious of itself. But such as gathered colour day by day. Last I woke sane, but well-nigh close to death For weakness : it was evening : silent light Slept on the painted walls, wherein were wrought Two grand designs ; for on one side arose The women up in wild revolt, and stormed At the Oppian law. Titanic shapes, they cramm'd The forum, and half-crush'd among the rest 110 A dwarf -like Cato cower'd. On the other side Hortensia spoke against the tax ; behind, A train of dames : by axe and eagle sat, With all their foreheads drawn in Roman scowls, 109. Oppicm Imv, the law restricting women in the use of orna- ments and in similar matters, enacted during the Punic wars (215 B.C.); in Cato's consulate (195 b.c.) they rose in the Roman Forum against the law and had it repealed. Titanic, towering. The Titans were the giants of classical mythology. 112. Hortensia, a Roman matron who spoke against a tax imposed on women during the second triumvirate (44 B.C.). 113. Ax& and eagle, the signs, respectively, of civil and military power. 120 THE PRINCESS [VII. And half tlie wolf's-milk curdled in tlieir veins, The fierce triumvirs : and before them paused Hortensia pleading : angry was her face. I saw the forms : I knew not where I was : They did but look like hollow shows ; nor more Sweet Ida : palm to palm she sat : the dew 120 Dwelt in her eyes, and softer all her shape And rounder seem'd : I moved : I sigh'd : a touch Came round my wrist, and tears upon my hand : Then all for languor and self-pity ran Mine down my face, and with what life I had. And like a flower that cannot all unfold, So drenched it is with tempest, to the sun. Yet, as it may, turns toward him, I on her Fixt my faint eyes, and utter'd whisperingly : " If you be, what I think you, some sweet dream, 130 I would but ask you to fulfil yourself : But if you be that Ida whom I knew, I ask you nothing : only, if a dream. Sweet dream, be perfect. I shall die to-night. Stoop down and seem to kiss me ere I die.^' I could no more, but lay like one in trance. That hears his burial talked of by his friends. And cannot speak, nor move, nor make one sign, But lies and dreads his doom. She turn'd ; she paused ; She stoop'd ; and out of languor leapt a cry ; 140 Leapt fiery Passion from the brinks of death ; And I believed that in the living world My spirit closed with Ida^s at the lips ; Till back I fell, and from mine arms she rose Glowing all over noble shame ; and all Her falser self slipt from her like a robe, 115. Wolfs-milk. Romulus and Hemus were suckled by a wolf. 140. Out of languor, out of the Prince's weakness. VII.] A MEDLEY 121 And left her woman, lovelier in her mood Than in her mould that other, when she came From barren deeps to conquer all with love ; And down the streaming crystal dropt ; and she 150 Far-fleeted by the purple island-sides. Naked, a double light in air and wave, To meet her Graces, where they decked her out For worship without end ; nor end of mine. Stateliest, for thee ! but mute she glided forth, Nor glanced behind her, and I sank and slept, Fiird thro' and thro' with Love, a happy sleep. Deep in tlie night I woke : she, near me, held A volume of the Poets of her land : There to herself, all in low tones, she. read. 160 " Now sleeps the crimson petal, now the white ; Nor waves the cypress in the palace walk ; Nor winks the gold fin in the porphyry font : The fire-fly wakens : waken thou with me. Now droops the milkwhite peacock like a ghost. And like a ghost she glimmers on to me. Now lies the Earth all Danae to the stars. And all thy heart lies open unto me. Now slides the silent meteor on, and leaves A shining furrow, as thy thoughts in me. 170 Now folds the lily all her sweetness up. And slips into the bosom of the lake : 147. Mood, spirit. 148. Mould, physical form. Thai other. Aphrodite, when she was born of the sea, out of which she rose, and was afterward clothed by the Graces with every charm of beauty. 154. Mine, my worship. 155. Thee, the Princess. 167. Danae, the mother of Perseus, imprisoned in a brazen tower and there wooed by Zeus in a rain of gold. 122 THE PRINCESS [VII. So fold thyself, my dearest, tlioii, and slip Into my bosom and be lost in me/' I heard her turn the page ; she found a small Sweet Idyl, and once more, as low, she read : " Come down, maid, from yonder mountain height : What pleasure lives in height (the shepherd sang) In height and cold, the splendour of the hills ? But cease to move so near the Heavens, and cease 180 To glide a sunbeam by the blasted Pine, To sit a star upon the sparkling spire ; And come, for Love is of the valley, come. For Love is of the valley, come thou down And find him ; by the happy threshold, he. Or hand in hand with Plenty in the maize. Or red with spirted purple of the vats. Or foxlike in the vine ; nor cares to walk AVith Death and Morning on the silver horns. Nor wilt thou snare him in the white ravine, 190 Nor find him dropt upon the firths of ice. That huddling slant in furrow-cloven falls To roll the torrent out of dusky doors : But follow ; let the torrent dance thee down To find him in the valley ; let the wild Lean-headed Eagles 3'elp alone, and leave The monstrous ledges there to slope, and spill Their thousand wreaths of dangling water-smoke. That like a broken purpose waste in air : So waste not thou ; but come ; for all the vales 200 Await thee ; azure pillars of the hearth 189. There is no life on the peaks ; but the words suggest rather the spectral white of the snow under the pallor of the dawn ; "sil- ver " is the color at the first break of light. 190. Wliite, with snow. 191-193. The glacier slanting down in crevasses, from the foot of which the stream issues. 198. Water-smoke, the narrow cascades, which separate into drops through the great height of the fall, and appear like smoke. Tenny- son observed them on his Pyrenean journey, from which much of his mountain scenery is derived. 301. Pillars of the hearth, the smoke of the cottages. VII.] A 31EDLEY 123 Arise to thee ; the children call, and I Thy sliepherd pipe, and sweet is every sound. Sweeter thy voice, but every sound is sweet ; Myriads of rivulets hurrying thro^ the lawn, The moan of doves in immemorial elms. And murmuring of innumerable bees/' So she low-toned ; while with shut eyes I lay Listening ; then looked. Pale was the perfect face ; The bosom with long sighs laboured ; and meek 210 Seemed the full lips, and mild the luminous eyes. And the voice trembled and the hand. She said Brokenly, that she knew it, she had faiFd In sweet humility ; had faiFd in all ; That all her labour was but as a block Left in the quarry ; but she still were loth. She still were loth to yield herself to one That wholly scorn'd to help their equal rights Against the sons of men, and barbarous laws. She pray'd me not to judge their cause from her 220 That wrong'd it, sought far less for truth than power In knowledge : something wild within her breast, A greater than all knowledge, beat her down. And she had nursed me there from week to week : Much had she learnt in little time. In part It was ill counsel had misled the girl To vex true hearts : yet was she but a girl — ^' Ah fool, and made myself a Queen of farce ! When comes another such ? never, I think. Till the Sun drop, dead, from the signs." Her voice 230 Choked, and her forehead sank upon her hands, And her great heart thro' all the faultful Past Went sorrowing in a pause I dared not break ; Till notice of a change in the dark world 330. Sigiis. The twelve signs of the Zodiac, through which lies the sun's apparent path in the heaven of stars. 234. Change, the coming of dawn. 124 THE PRINCESS [VTI. Was lispt about the acacias, and a bird. That early woke to feed her little ones, Sent from a dewy breast a cry for light : She moved, and at her feet the volume fell. *^ Blame not thyself too much," I said, "^nor blame Too much the sons of men and barbarous laws ; 240 These were the rough ways of the world till now. - Henceforth thou hast a helper, me, that know The woman^s cause is man's : they rise or sink Together, dwarf'd or godlike, bond or free : For she that out of Lethe scales with man The shining steps of Nature, shares with man His nights, his days, moves with him to one goal. Stays all the fair young planet in her hands — If she be small, slight-natured, miserable. How shall men grow ? but work no more alone ! 250 Our place is much : as far as in us lies We two will serve them both in aiding her — Will clear away the parasitic forms That seem to keep her up but drag her down — Will leave her space to burgeon out of all Within her — let her make herself her own To give or keep, to live and learn and be All that not harms distinctive womanhood. Eor woman is not undevelopt man. But diverse : could we make her as the man, 260 Sweet Love were slain : his dearest bond is this. Not like to like, but like in difference. Yet in the long years liker must they grow ; 245. Lethe, the river of oblivion in Hades, here used of the unknown before birth. 248. Fair young planet, the children of the whole earth. 253. Parasitic forms, the conventions that, like vines about a tree, seem to embrace it, but really sap its life. 255. Burgeon, blossom. VIL] A 3IEDLEY ' 125 The man be more of woman, she of man ; He gain in sweetness and in moral height. Nor lose the wrestling thews that throw the world ; She mental breadth, nor fail in childward care, Nor lose the childlike in the larger mind ; Till at the last she set herself to man. Like perfect music unto noble words ; 270 And so these twain, upon the skirts of Time, Sit side by side, full-summ'd in all their powers, Dispensing harvest, sowing the To-be, Self-reverent each and reverencing each. Distinct in individualities. But like each other ev'n as those who love. Then comes the statelier Eden back to men : Then reign the world's great bridals, chaste and calm : Then springs the crowning race of humankind. May these things be ! " Sighing she spoke " I fear 280 They will not.'' '^Dear, but let us type them now In our own lives, and this proud watchwerd rest Of equal ; seeing either sex alone Is half itself, and in true marriage lies Nor equal, nor unequal : each fulfils Defect in each, and always thought in thought. Purpose in purpose, will in will, they grow, The single pure and perfect animal. The two-ceird heart beating, with one full stroke, Life." And again sighing she spoke : ^^ A dream 290 That once was mine ! what woman taught you this ? " 372. Full-sumrri'd, properly developed. 277. Statelier Eden, golden age. 282. Rest, let rest. 289. The metaphor is one of those at once beautiful and perfect which distinguish Tennyson, and is the more striking as being drawn from science. 126 THE PRINCESS [VII. " Alone/' I said, " from earlier than I know. Immersed in rich foreshadowings of the world, I loved the woman : he, that doth not, lives A drowning life, besotted in sweet self, Or pines in sad experience worse than death. Or keeps his winged affections dipt with crime : Yet was there one thro' whom I loved her, one Not learned, save in gracious household ways, Not perfect, nay, but full of tender wants, 300 No Angel, but a dearer being, all dipt In Angel instincts, breathing Paradise, Interpreter between the Gods and men. Who looked all native to her place, and yet On tiptoe seem'd to touch upon a sphere Too gross to tread, and all male minds perforce Svvay'd to her from their orbits as they moved. And girdled her with music. Happy he With such a mother ! faith in womankind Beats with his blood, and trust in all things high 310 Comes easy to him, and tho' he trip and fall He shall not blind his soul with clay." '' But I," Said Ida, tremulously, ''so all unlike — It seems you love to cheat yourself with words : This mother is your model. I have heard Of your strange doubts : they well might be : I seem A mockery to my own self. Never, Prince ; You cannot love me." ''Nay but thee "I said "From yearlong poring on thy pictured eyes. Ere seen I loved, and loved thee seen, and saw 320 Thee woman thro' the crust of iron moods 298. One. It is understood that Tennyson here alludes to his own mother. 308. Music. The metaphor is derived from the poetical belief that the stars make music in their motions. 331. Thee woman, that thou wast woman. VII.] A MEDLEY 127 That masked thee from men^s reverence up, and forced Sweet love on pranks of saucy boyhood : now, Giv^n back to life, to life indeed, thro^ thee. Indeed I love : the new day comes, the light Dearer for night, as dearer thou for faults Lived over : lift thine eyes ; my doubts are dead. My haunting sense of hollow shows i the change. This truthful change in thee has kilFd it. Dear, Look up, and let thy nature strike on mine, 330 Like yonder morning on the blind half-world ; Approach and fear not ; breathe upon my brows; In that fine air I tremble, all the past Melts mist-like into this bright hour, and this Is morn to more, and all the rich to-come Reels, as the golden Autumn woodland reels Athwart the smoke of burning weeds. Forgive me, I waste my heart in signs : let be. My bride. My wife, my life. we will walk this world. Yoked in all exercise of noble end, 340 And so thro^ those dark gates across the wild That no man knows. Indeed I love thee : come. Yield thyself up : my hopes and thine are one : Accomplish thou my manhood and thyself ; Lay thy sweet hands in mine and trust to me."" 331. Blind half -world, the half of the world yet in the darkness of night. 338. Sig7is, metaphors. 341, Those dark gates, death. 128 THE PRINCESS [Conclusion CONCLUSION. So closed our tale, of which I give you all The random scheme as wildly as it rose : The words are mostly mine ; for when we ceased There came a minute's pause, and Walter said, " I wish she had not yielded ! '' then to me, '^ What, if you drest it up poetically ! " So pray'd the men, the women : I gave assent : Yet how to bind the scatter'd scheme of seven Together in one sheaf ? What style could suit ? The men required that I should give throughout 10 The sort of mock-heroic gigantesque, AVith which we banterM little Lilia first : The women — and perhaps they felt their power. For something in the ballads which they sang, Or in their silent influence as they sat. Had ever seemed to wrestle with burlesque, And drove us, last, to quite a solemn close — They hated banter, wished for something real, A gallant fight, a noble princess — why Not make her true-heroic — true sublime ? 30 Or all, they said, as earnest as the close ? Which yet with such a framework scarce could be. Then rose a little feud betwixt the two. Betwixt the mockers and the realists : And I, betwixt them both, to please them both^ And yet to give the story as it rose, I moved as in a strange diagonal. And maybe neither pleased myself nor them. But Lilia pleased me, for she took no part In our dispute : the sequel of the tale 30 Had touched her ; and she sat, she pluck'd the grass, 27. Diagonal, the resultant of two forces. Conclusion] A MEDLEY 129 She flung it from her, thinking : last, she fixt A showery glance upon her aunt, and said, ^' You — tell us what we are " who might have told, For she was crammed with theories out of books, But that there rose a shout : the gates were closed At sunset, and the crowd were swarming now. To take their leave, about the garden rails. So I and some went out to these : we climb'd The slope to Vivian-place, and turning saw 40 The happy valleys, half in light, and half Far-shadowing from the west, a land of peace ; Gray halls alone among their massive groves ; Trim hamlets ; here and there a rustic tower Half-lost in belts of hop and breadths of wheat ; The shimmering glimpses of a stream ; the seas ; A red sail, or a white ; and far beyond. Imagined more than seen, the skirts of France. *' Look there, a garden ! " said my college friend, The Tory member's elder son, " and there ! 50 God bless the narrow sea which keeps her off. And keeps our Britain, whole within herself, A nation yet, the rulers and the ruled — Some sense of duty, something of a faith. Some reverence for the laws ourselves have made, Some patient force to change them when we will. Some civic manhood firm against the crowd — But yonder, whiff ! there comes a sudden heat, Tlie gravest citizen seems to lose his head. The king is scared, the soldier will not fight, 60 The little boys begin to shoot and stab, 49. Garden, England. 50. There, France. This is the usual strain of Tennyson in his not infrequent references to that country. 51. Narrow sea, Dover Straits. 58. Heat, the French revolutions. 130 TH^ PRINCESS [Conclusion A kingdom topples over with a shriek Like an old woman, and down rolls the world In mock heroics stranger than our own ; Kevolts, republics, revolutions, most No graver than a schoolboys^ barring out ; Too comic for the solemn things they are. Too solemn for the comic touches in them. Like our wild Princess with as wise a dream As some of theirs — God bless the narrow seas ! 70 I wish they were a whole Atlantic broad/^ '^ Have patience," I replied, '' ourselves are full Of social wrong ; and maybe wildest dreams Are but the needful preludes of the truth ; For me, the genial day, the happy crowd. The sport half-science, fill me with a faith. This fine old world of ours is but a child Yet in the go-cart. Patience ! Give it time To learn its limbs : there is a hand that guides.'* In such discourse we gain'd the garden rails, 80 And there we saw Sir Walter where he stood. Before a tower of crimson holly-oaks, Among six boys, head under head, and looked No little lily-handed Baronet he, A great broad-shoulder'd genial Englishman, A lord of fat prize-oxen and of sheep, A. raiser of huge melons and of pine, A patron of some thirty charities, A pamphleteer on guano and on grain, A quarter-sessions chairman, abler none ; 90 66. Barring out, the barring of the door against the master. 78. Go-cart, a contrivance for supporting children in learning to walk. 87. Pine, pineapples. 90. Quarter-sessions, a justice-of-the-peace court at which minor offences are tried. Conclusion] A MEDLEY 131 Fair-hair'd and redder tlian a windy morn ; Now shaking hands with him, now him, of those That stood the nearest— now addressed to speech— Who spoke few words and pithy, such as closed Welcome, farewell, and welcome for the year To follow : a shout rose again, and made The long line of the approaching rookery swerve From the elms, and shook the branches of the deer From slope to slope thro' distant ferns, and rang Beyond the bourn of sunset ; 0, a shout 100 More joyful than the city-roar that hails Premier or king ! Why should not these great Sirs Give up their parks some dozen times a year To let the people breathe ? So thrice they cried, I likewise, and in groups they streamed away. But we went back to the Abbey, and sat on. So much the gathering darkness charm'd : we sat But spoke not, rapt in nameless reverie. Perchance upon the future man : the walls Blacken'd about us, bats wheeFd, and owls whoop'd, 110 And gradually the powers of the night. That range above the region of the wind, Deepening the courts of twilight broke them up Thro' all the silent spaces of the worlds. Beyond all thought into the Heaven of Heavens. Last little Lilia, rising quietly. Disrobed the glimmering statue of Sir Ealph From those rich silks, and home well-pleased we went. 94. Closed, included. 97. Rookery, the rooks ; they fly in a long line. 98. Branches, antlers. 100. Bour7i, limit. 112. Region of the ivind, the atmosphere. 113. Broke them up, divided the darkness by the coming out of the stars. APPENDIX LONGER NOTES. I. The History of the Poem. Tennyson freely altered and enlarged his poems after their first publication. The Princess affords the most striking example of this habit. The first edition appeared in 1847, and was followed by others dated 1848, 1850, 1851, and 1853, before the work reached its present form. The most important changes were the introduction of the six Songs in the third edition ; of the passages relating to the "weird seizures" in the fourth edition, in which also the Prologue and Conclusion were rewritten ; and of lines 35-48 of the Prologue, in the fifth edition. The Dedication was added in tlie second edition. The variations of all editions are given by Rolfe, but such study seems to belong rather to the close and advanced student of poetry than to the ordinary scholar, and for that reason these readings have been here omitted. The original suggestion of the poem has been sought in earlier literature, but it is unlikely that it was derived from such sources ; the poem was a contemporary work and naturally arose from its times. It is of interest, however, to refer to the Shaksperian parallel of withdrawal from the world for study, on the part of men, away from woman's society, in Love''s Labour Lost; and a passage in Johnson's Rasselas (chapter xlix.) has been brought into service to illustrate IL, 43. It is as follows : " The Princess thought that of all sublunary things knowledge was the best ; she desired first to learn all sciences, and then proposed to found a college of learned women in which she would preside." Spen- ser's Faerie Queene, book v., cantos iv.-vi., has also been placed in comparison with The Princess^ as an illustration of the same general theme. The obligations of the poem to other authors for beauty of detail are noticed below. APPENDIX 133 II. The "Weird Seizures." The very important change in the form by the introduction of this element of illusion has been much commented upon by critics and editors. It must be granted that the gain was considerable ; the prince was not a hero, but only a lover ; and his character as a lover is not weakened, but rather strengthened, by ascribing to him the "affection of the house," especially as this is presented less as a physical disease than as the state of vision and faintness traditionally associated with the lovers of romance ; his figure gath- ers both pathos and glamor, and evokes greater sympathy through the device ; secondly, by this means an atmosphere of dream- land and unreality is diffused from time to time through the whole story and relieves materially the weakness of the machinery of the narrative, which, taken too literally, is always in danger of becoming farcical and degenerating into opera-houffe effects; thirdly, there is a continuous suggestion that the true illusion is the theory of life exemplified in the Princess and her school, and the true cure — the return to reality — is the love-match which makes the lovers whole in their united selves. Such indefinable suggestion as is indicated by these statements is of the essence of poetic art, and not less real because it escapes observation in detail. On the whole, the "weird seizures" seem to aid in real- izing the temperament of the Prince, in giving definition to his vague life (for, so far as he is seen, he is without any true experi- ence in action or thought — he has never done anything), and also in fusing the whole matter of the poem and reducing its "medley" to a common tone of feeling. The thought itself, the Shadow-idea, is fundamental in Tenny- son ; it is persistent in all his work, it falls in with his own nature, and it has a basis in his own personality. He relates his experience in The Ancient Sage : " And more, my Son ! for more than once when I Sat all alone, revolving in myself The word that is the symbol of myself, The mortal limit of the Self was loosed, And past into the Nameless, as a cloud Melts into Heaven. I touched my limbs, the limbs 134 APPENDIX Were strange, not mine — and yet no shade of doubt;. But utter clearness, and thro' loss of Self The gain of such large life as match'd with ours, Were Sun to spark — unshadowable in words, Themselves but shadows of a shadow-world. " This is a leaf of autobiography, and records the time when, repeating the name "Tennyson" over and over, he would fall into tins shadow-state, which, it should be noted, is here described as a state of higher reality. He once described it in a letter : "I have never had any revelations through anaesthetics, but a kind of waking trance (this for lack of a better name) I have fre- quently had, quite up from boyhood, when I have been all alone. This has often come upon me through repeating my own name to myself silently, till, all at once, as it were, out of the intensity of the consciousness of individuality, the individuality itself seemed to dissolve and fade away into boundless being, and this not a confused state, but the clearest, the surest of the surest, utterly beyond words, where death was an almost laughable impossibility, the loss of personality, if so it were, seeming no extinction but only the true life " (Tennyson to , May 7, 1874, quoted in Wal- ter's In Tennyson Land, 1890, p. 38). A similar experience is told by Wordsworth of his own boyhood. Some critics have gone so far as to point to the precise epoch of Tennyson's poetic art, when this sense of the shadow, as the state of lower reality set forth in The Princess, passed away, and they draw a dividing line between the earlier dreamier work of the poet and his later masculine power, using The Lady of Shalott as the point of departure. ** *I am half-sick of shadows,' said The Lady of Shalott." This may be pressing the matter too far; but anyone who chooses may find a hundred recurrences of the shadow-idea in Tennyson's work, marked enough to characterize his genius among poets, and therefore likely to have had a basis in his nature. The trait proceeds, of course, from the excess of his imaginative power. APPENDIX 135 III. The Songs. The introduction of the Songs cannot be described as an afterthought, since Tennyson says they were in his mind as an expedient from the first ; but he did not employ them till the third edition. They stand apart from the poem in form, but they are an essential part of the structure of the whole, and are used to bind together and enforce the moral meaning. It has been remarked in the Introduction that the Child is an impor- tant character in the narrative, and its influence predominant in determining or manifesting the action at critical points. Now the Songs are, in great part, the Child in another form ; and their purpose is to keep the element of childhood, as a power in the mature life of men and women naturally developed, clearly before the mind. The first Song is one of reconciliation of husband and wife over the grave of their child ; the second is a cradle-song ; the third reverts to love, which is thought of as ! the medium through which soul echoes to soul, — perhaps, as hasj been suggested, with a thought of "from generation to genera- i tion," though this does not seem to me contained in the words ; i the fourth represente the memory of wife and child as the source of the soldier's courage ; the fifth, in response, represents the child as the source of the mother's courage in widowhood ; the sixth shows the triumph of love in the maiden who yields to the greatest of all world forces, as love is there described. The six, taken together, constitute one main argument of the poem, and, with the lyrics and idyls and the exalted description of mother- hood in the seventh part, mark the highest reach of the poem both in wisdom and in poetic art. The Songs, taken separately, require but little annotation. Their simplicity, directness, and power, which make them unsurpassed among Tennyson's lyrics, are the very ground of their excellence. On the historical side, however, it may be remarked that the Bugle-Song was suggested by hearing the bugle blown on Lake Killarney to awake the echoes of the mountains ; and the fifth, " Home they brought her warrior dead," may be a development of an Anglo-Saxon poem, Oudrun. Other versions of the fourth and fifth Songs are as follows : 136 APPENDIX IV. Lady, let the rolling drums, Beat to battle where thy warrior stands ; Now thy face across his fancy comes, And gives the battle to his hands. Lady, let the trumpets blow, Clasp thy little babes about thy knee ; Now their warrior father meets the foe, And strikes him dead for thine and thee. V. Home they brought him slain with spears, They brought him home at even-fall; All alone she sits and hears Echoes in the empty hall. Sounding on the morrow. The sun peeped in from open field, The boy began to leap and prance, Rode upon his father's lance, Beat upon his father's shield ; " Oh, hush, my joy, my sorrow." It is easy to show how much is gained by the simpler and more direct expression in the versions finally adopted. The comparison may be made a lesson in poetic style. A word may be added with regard to other short poems intro- duced into the narrative itself. The best known of them, " Tears, idle tears," has its prophecy in the earlier lines, " O sad No More," and represents a real experience, an outburst of emo- tion; it was suggested, Tennyson said, by Tintern Abbey; it is remarkable for the music, which is so smooth that the rhyme is not missed; and, in English poetry, it has a place among the perfect lyrics of the language. Similarly, the idyl, ' ' Come down, O Maid," is of flawless workmanship, but is equally flaw- less in its substance, and is a marvel of landscape subdued to be itself the expression of human thouglit and emotion, and so charged with the poet's mood that one cannot divide the spiritual from the external beauty; the development of the poem, the sweetness of its argument, the subtlety of its unspoken sugges- tion, the rising rhythm and climax of human appeal falling away APPENDIX 137 in the natural images and wonderful verbal melody of the con- clusion, are traits rather to be felt than analyzed, though they lose nothing by such analysis. It is the most perfect short idyl in English poetry, and though its literary origin is Greek and its earthly scenery is Swiss, it seems native in every syllable, because it speaks from the common heart of man. The " Swallow- Song," and "Now sleeps the crimson petal, now the white" (with its pure and lovely simile of the lily — the most delicately perfect in the entire poem), are lighter and obviously artificial in structure, as is also the prophetess song of the Princess, noble and resounding as it is, and with the true touch of scriptural sublimity; but these also are, each in its kind, unsurpassed poems. If the student learns to appreciate these, together with the other highly wrought passages of the narrative, he will have received a lesson in the perception of refined beauty in imagery, delicacy of sentiment, and the power of words to express true emotion nobly, though without deep passion, such as could be derived from no other poet. ly. Parallel Passages. The study of parallelisms in poetry, like that of variant read- ings, belongs to advanced work, and little attention has been directed to them in the body of the Notes. Since, however, some may miss them and desire them, a table is here given of such parallelisms as have been pointed out by one and another editor, nearly all of which are contained in J. Churton Collinses Illustrations of Tennyson^ 1891. It was formerly the custom of poets to "take their own" wherever they found it, and the classics are still used as sources of phrase and style, without explicit acknowl- edgment. Tennyson was thoroughly acquainted with poetic literature, and had been formed by it; his works are full of translations, adaptations, and echoes of his forerunners; but, in fact, he was as original as any of the great poets of culture, and he explicitly denied the seeming obligation he was under in several instances that had been pointed out in this poem before his death. In his interesting letter to Dawson, Nov. 21, 1882, in regard to the latter's edition of The Princess, he wrote as follows: "I do not object to your finding parallelisms. They 138 APPENDIX must always recur. A man (a Chinese scholar) some time ago wrote to me, saying, that in an unknown untranslated Chinese poem there were two whole lines of mine almost word for word. Wliy not ? Are not human eyes all over the world looking at the same objects and must there not consequently be coincidences of thought and impressions and expressions ? It is scarcely possible for any one to say or write anything in this late time of the WQrld to which, in the rest of the literature of the world, a par- allel could not somewhere be found. But when you say that this passage or that was suggested by Wordsworth or Shelley or another, I demur, and more, I wholly disagree." He goes on and instances in particular the parallelism of tlie water-lily in Wordsworth and of the south wind in Shelley, and gives his own note as follows: " Water-lilies in my own pond, seen on a gusty day with my own eyes. They did start and slide in the sudden puffs of wind, till caught and stayed by the tether of their own stalks — quite as true as Wordsworth's simile, and more in detail. . . . I was walking in the New Forest. A wind did arise and — * Shake the songs, the whispers, and the shrieks Of the wild wood together.' The wind, I believe, was a west wind, but because I wished the Prince to go south I turned the wind to the south, and, naturally, the wind said, 'Follow.' I believe the resemblance that you note is just a chance one. Shelley's lines are not familiar to me, though, of course, if they occur in the Prome- theus I must have read them." These notes of the poet's are of interest as showing how he worked from the realities of ear and eye. To close the list of such origins, so far as known, the " full sea glazed with muffled moonlight " (I., 244) was at Torquay ; the " black cloud drag inward " (VII., 23) was seen from Snowdon ; and Rolfe quotes from Clough's Letters that the "stately pine" (V. , 336) was in the Valley of the Cauterets, The list of the parallel passages is as follows ; but cross references to Tennyson's other works, passages merely illustrative of the use of single words (such as may readily be found by consulting concordances of the poets), and references already made in the foot-notes are ex- cluded : I., 65. Homer, Iliad, iv., 513. 96, Shelley, Prometheus Unhound^ ii., 1. APPENDIX 139 114. Shelley, Prince Athanase, ii., 86. 233. Homer, Iliad, ii., 147, 148. II., 8. Ariosto, Orlando Furioso, vi., 21. 94. Homer, Iliad, vi., 401. 100 et seq. Prior, Alma, i., 891 et seq. 168. Dante, La Divina Commedia, Inferno, vii., 13, 14. 251. Vergil, uFlneid, vii., 483-504. Song. Theocritus, xxiv., 7-9. III., 98. Theocritus, ix., 31 ; x., 30 ; Vergil, Eclogae, ii., 63. 106. Shelley, EpipsycTiidion, 446. 313. Wordsworth, Yew Trees. 324. Pindar, Olympia, ii., 123-136. IV., 34. Leigh Hunt, Hero and Leander, ii., 103, 104. 36. Moschus, iii., 69, 70. 85. Shakspere, Venus and Adonis, 1185. 93. Shakspere, Twelfth Night, I., v., 287-295. 101. Homer, Odyssey, xx., 347; Horace, Sat., II., iii., 72. 163. Shakspere, Julius Ccesar, I., ii., 105. 236. Wordsworth, The Excursion, V., 564-566. V. 252. Homer, Iliad, v., 5. 336. Vergil, ^neld, ii., 441. 513. Lucau, Pharsalia, i., 152-158. Song. Thorpe, Edda of Smmund the Learned, 89-91. Couybeare, Illustrations of Anglo-Saxon Poetry, xlii. Scott, The Lay of the Last Minstrel, I., ix. VI. 234. Shakspere, As TouLihelt, I., iii., 65-72; A Midsummer NighVs Dream, III., ii., 198-214. VII. 20. Homer, Iliad, iv., 275; Lucretius, vi., 256. 196. Theocritus, xi., 43. 203. Theocritus, viii., 76, 77. 206. Vergil, Eclogae, i., 58. 140 APPENDIX V. Examinations. An examination-paper can easily be set upon the text of The Princess, such as will test adequately the student's under- standing of its language, allusions, and imagery, by requiring brief and clear comment uj^on selected passages in the ordinary way ; and quite as readily questions can be framed to show his com- prehension of the general sense of the poem by following the ' ' Introduction " paragraph by paragraph. For the usual purposes of an examination such an outline knowledge as would be thus demanded might be sufficient ; but the credit of passing well might then be won without the aid of any appreciation of the literary value of the work. The difficulty here illustrated, of either testing growth in taste or making it surely count in the result, has given currency to the educational commonplace that examinations cannot be set upon literature. Whether this be a true or false opinion, the following suggestions are made, rather to indicate in what way a literary appreciation may be brought to bear in meeting an examination than how an examination may be brought to bear on a literary appreciation. If a student is to exercise his faculties upon such a poem as The Princess^ the Introduction must be taken for what it is — a guide only, not an analysis to be memorized. Its successive subdivisions should be more fully treated and carried out more comprehensively into details ; thus the plot, characters, situations, incidents, and argument can be made thoroughly known to the student, and further analysis can be made by him after the analogies and on the guiding lines there laid down. For example, there is hardly one of the minor characters that could not profitably be studied by an interested student with a view to understanding just what the character is and the particular ways in which its traits are made plain to the reader ; in the case of the leading characters similar work, with a view to further illustration, could be done ; or, in the single point of Tennyson's landscape effects, a comparison of several of them, an inquiry as to which of them include motion as an important part of the picture, and other questions tending to lead the student to mind the detail and the composition and to discriminate one sort of picture from another, — these are all several ways of APPENDIX 141 enforcing literary observation — alertness, and precision of mind in reading — which is of as much value and is as necessary as is the habit of scientific observation, and perhaps even more, inasmuch as the faculty is rarer. But not to go into too long a catalogue of what is possible, the suggestion is that the sub- divisions of the Introduction be regarded as a list of special topics for further criticism in the same line. It might even be desirable to make some of these topics subjects of short essays by different members of the class as a means of accumu- lating in the minds of all a sufficient body of criticism and of habituating them to such methods of reflection and channels of expression. The kind and yielding aspects of the old king, the Prince's father, might thus be made prominent, and both Gama and Lady Blanche would disclose more vitality if their lives were more intently examined. In the case of so many- sided and involved a composition as The Princess, it might be well, and in fact it is only just, that a student should know veiy clearly the lines which his analysis, criticism, or summaiy should take on examination ; it is too much to expect that he should formulate such matters for the first time in an impromptu, not to say a reportorial, way ; and a good deal of preparation in the narration of parts of the plot in full (so much of the preceding portion always being told as will make the situation compre- hensible), in the description of scenes, in character-study (the particular actions which exhibit and prove the character being clearly stated), in the artistic use of the landscape and other accessories, in the moods even of the poet toward his creations, and in the principles he sets forth, — a good deal of all this can be accomplished in the class-room by a well-directed and intelli- gently distributed, but not too laborious, series of little original studies. After such preparation, possibly some such questions as these might be put, and in answering them it would be well, if it were not thought too radical, to let the students have free use of their texts. 1. Give an account of the tournament, and in your stoiy explain (a), why it was fought ; (5), what were the terms ? (c), the course of events in the fight ; {d). the state of the Prince; {e), the defeat of the Princess in triumph. 2. On what two principal occasions did the Prince act, as a man should, in deeds ? On what occasions did the Princess require 142 APPENDIX such aid, in extreme peril, as only a man could give ? Did she in any of them recognize woman's natural dependence ? Had she ever felt herself either alone, or inferior in power before the night when her palace was surrounded ? Can you enumerate in suc- cession the climax of shocks that overwhelmed her belief in her- self ? Did she find by events that woman is as dependent on man for love as for protection ? Was the college on the point of failure when the trouble arose ? if so, why ? 3. Did Lady Blanche show any affection for any one ? Did Melissa show any attachment to her mother ? In what way was Florian useful as a friend ? Characterize Gama from what is told of his doings at court, from his deeds to his children and their attitude toward him, and from his words to the Prince, and finally to the Princess. 4. What are the burlesque elements in the poem ? What are the beautiful elements, exclusive of the characters and the senti- ment ? Illustrate from some one example («), Tennyson's exact- ness of description of small natural objects ; (J), fitness of simile; (c), fitness of metaphor ; (fZ), beauty of single lines ; (e), fondness for unusual color effects. Which of the songs do you like best, and why ? What scientific knowledge, if any, interested you in the poem ? Why did Tennyson introduce so large an element of such knowledge ? What was the object of Sir Walter Vivian's picnic ? Such are some of the questions in detail that may be suggested, not primarily as means toward passing a collegiate examination, but for the purpose of ensuring that literary predisposition of the student's mind, in its attitude to The Princess, which will enforce his answering any collegiate paper from the literary point of view or none at all. In addition to these, it is, of course, necessary that the student should be able to answer the more obvious and fundamental questions, indicated in the opening paragraph of this note, upon Tennyson's artistic method, his composite, cumulative, and pictorial style, upon the structure of the plot, the significance of the child, the general course of the argument, and, in brief, all that is contained in the Introduc- tion, as a basis for the original work indicated in the set questions above. Longmans' English Classics Books prescribed for 1897 Examinations, p. 2. Books prescribed for 1898 Examinations, p. 3. 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Edited, with introduction and notes, by Wilson Farrand, A.M., Associate Principal of the Newark Academy, Newark, N. J. With Portrait of Burns. Books Prescribed for the igoo Examinations, {See also Precediyig Lists.) FOR READING. Dryden's Palamon and Arcite. Edited by Professor J. W. Bright. Pope's Homer's Iliad. Books L, VI., XXII., and XXIV. Edited by Superintendent Maxwell and Percival Chubb. The Sir Roger de Coverley Papers. Edited by Dr. D. O. S. Lowell. Goldsmith's The Vicar of Wakefield. Edited by Professor Mary A. Jordan. De Quincey's Flight of a Tartar Tribe. Edited by Dr. C. S. Baldwin. Tennyson's The Princess. Edited by Professor G. E. Wood- berry. Scott's Ivanhoe. Edited by Professor Bliss Perry, of Princeton University. [In preparation. Cooper's The Last of the Mohicans. Edited by Professor Charles F. Richardson. \In preparation. FOR STUDY. Shakspere's Macbeth. Edited by Professor Manly. Milton's Paradise Lost. Books I. and II. Edited by Pro- fessor E. E. 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I find the book handsome, the notes sensible and clear. I'm glad to see a book so well adapted to High School needs, and I shall recommend it, without reserve, as a safe and clean book to put before our pupils." — James W. McLane, Central High School, Cleveland, O. Scott's ' Woodstock.' " Scott's ' Woodstock,' edited by Professor Bliss Perry, deepens the impression made by the earlier numbers that this series, Longmans' English Classics, is one of unusual excellence in the editing, and will prove a valuable auxiliary in the reform of English teaching now generally in progress. . . . We have, in addition to the unabridged text of the novel, a careful editorial introduction ; the author's intro- duction, preface and notes ; a reprint of ' The Just Devil of Woodstock'; and such foot-notes as the student will need as he turns from page to page. 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Defoe's 'History of the Plague in London.* " He gives an interesting biography of Defoe, an account of his works, a discussion of their ethical influence (including that of this 'somewhat sensational' novel), some suggestions to teachers and students, and a list of references for future study. This is all valuable and sugges- tive. The reader wishes that there were more of it. Indeed, the criticism I was about to offer on this series is perhaps their chief excellence. One wishes that the introductions were longer and more exhaustive. For, contrary to custom, as expressed in Gratiano's query, ' Who riseth from a feast with that keen appetite that he sits down ? ' the young student will doubtless finish these introductions hungering for more. And this, perhaps, was the editor's object in view, viz. , that the intro- ductory and explanatory matter should be suggestive and stimulating rather than complete and exhaustive ! " — Educational Review. 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Ramsay, Principal of Fall River High School. Coleridge's 'Ancient Mariner.* " After an introduction which is well calculated to awaken interest both in Coleridge himself and in poetry as a form of literature, the poem is set before us with Coleridge's own glosses in the margin. Notes are added at the bottom of each page. These notes are well worth examination for the pedagogic skill they display. They provide, not so much information about the text, though all necessary explanation does appear, but suggestion and incitement to the discovery by the pupil for himself of the elements in the poem which the hasty reader only feels, if he does not lose them altogether. . . . Any good teacher will find this edition a veritable help to the appreciation of poetry by his pupils." — Principal Ray Greene Ruling, English High School, Cambridge, Mass. " Mr. Bates is an interesting and charming writer of verse as well as prose, and makes a helpful and appreciative teacher to follow through the intricacies of the poem in question. In addition to extensive notes and comments, the book has a well-planned, brightly written introduc- tion, comprising a Coleridge biography, bibliography, and chronological table, a definition of poetry in general, and a thoughtful study of the origin, form, and criticisms of this particular poem, ' The Ancient Mariner.' Teachers and students of English are to be congratulated on. and Mr. Bates and his publishers thanked for, this acquisition to the field of literary study." — Literary World, Boston. Milton's • L' Allegro, II Penseroso, etc' " Professor Trent's sympathetic treatment on the literary side of the subject matter,- makes the introductions and notes of more than usual interest and profit ; and I think that it is just such editing as this that our younger students need in approaching the works of the great poets." — J. Russell Hayes, Assistant Professor of English, Swarthmore College, Pa. LONGMANS' ENGLISH CLASSICS It has been the aim of the publishers to secure editors of high reputation for scholarship, experience, and skill, and to provide a series thoroughly adapted, by uniformity of plan and thoroughness of execution, to present educa- tional needs. The chief distinguishing features of the series are the following : I. Each volume contains full "Suggestions for Teach- ers and Students," with bibliographies, and, in many cases, lists of topics recommended for further reading or study, subjects for themes and compositions, specimen examination papers, etc. It is therefore hoped that the series will contribute largely to the working out of sound methods in teaching English. 2. The works prescribed for reading are treated, in every case, as literature, not as texts for narrow linguistic study, and edited with a view to interesting the student in the book in question both in itself and as representative of a literary type or of a period of literature, and of leading him on to read other standard works of the same age or kind understandingly and appreciatively. 3. These editions are not issued anonymously, nor are they hackwork, — the result of mere compilation. They are the original work of scholars and men of letters who are conversant with the topics of which they treat. 4. Colleges and preparatory schools are both repre- sented in the list of editors (the preparatory schools more prominently in the lists for 1897 and 1898), and it is in- tended that the series shall exemplify the ripest methods of American scholars for the teaching of English — the result in some cases of years of actual experience in secondary school work, and, in others, the formulation of the experience acquired by professors who observe care- fully the needs of students who present themselves for admission to college. 5. The volumes are uniform in size and style, are well printed and bound, and constitute a well-edited set of standard works, fit for permanent use and possession — a nucleus for a library of English literature. LONGMAN'S, GREEN, &> CO.' S PUBLICATIONS. EPOCHS OF AMERICAN HISTORY. MESSRS. LONGMANS, GREEN, & CO. have the pleasure to state that they are now publishing a short series of books treating of the history of America, under the general title Epochs of American History. The series is under the editorship of Dr. ALBERT Bushnell Hart, Assistant Professor of History in Harvard College, who has also prepared all the maps for the several volumes. Each volume contains about 300 pages, similar in size and style to the page of the volumes in Messrs. Longmans' series, * Epochs of Modern History, ' with full marginal analysis, working bibliogra- phies, maps, and index. The volumes are issued separately, and each is complete in itself. The volumes now ready provide a continuous history of the United States from the foundation of the Colonies to the present time, suited to and intended for class use as well as for general reading and reference. *^* The volumes of this series already issued have been adopted for use as text- books in nearly all the leading Colleges and in many Normal Schools and other institutions. A prospectus, showing Contents and scope of each volume, specimen pages, etc. , will bt sent on application to the Publishers. 1. THE COLONIES, 1492-1750. By Reuben Gold Thwaites, Secretary of the State Historical Society of Wisconsin ; author of " Historic Waterways," etc. With four colored maps. pp. xviii.-30i. Cloth. $1.25, CORNELL UNIVERSITY. *' I beg leave to acknowledge your courtesy in sending me a copy of the first volume in the series of ' Epochs of American History,' which I have read with great interest and satisfaction. I am pleased, as everyone must be, with the mechanical execution of the book, with the maps, and with the fresh and valua- ble 'Suggestions' and 'References.' .... The work itself appears to me to be quite remarkable for its comprehensiveness, and it presents a vast array of subjects in a way that is admirably fair, clear and orderly." — Professor Moses Coit Tyler, Ithaca, N. Y. WILLIAMS COLLEGE. •• It is just the book needed for college students, not too brief to be uninter- esting, admirable in its plan, and well furnished with references to accessible authorities."— Professor Richard A. Rice, Williamstown, Mass. VASSAR COLLEGE. " Perhaps the best recommendation of ' Thwaites' American Colonies ' is the fact that the day after it was received I ordered copies for class-room use. The book is admirable." — Professor Lucy M. Salmon, Poughkeepsie, N. Y. *' All that could be desired. This volume is more like a fair treatment of the whole subject of the colonies than any work of the sort yet produced.'' — The Critic. " The subject is virtually a fresh one as approached by Mr. Thwaites. It is a pleasure to call especial attention to some most helpful bibliographical notes provided at the head of each chapter''— 7%^ Nation. LONGMANS, GREEN, & CO., 91-93 Fifth Avenue, New York. LONGMANS, GREEN, &" CO.'S PUBLICATIONS. EPOCHS OF AMERICAN HISTORY. II. FORMATION OF THE UNION, 1750-1829. By Albert Bushnell Hart, Ph.D. Assistant Professor of History in Harvard University, Member of the Massachusetts Historical Society, Author of '* Introduction to the Study of Federal Government," "Epoch Maps," etc. With five colored maps. pp. XX.-278. Cloth. $1.25. The second volume of the Epochs of American History aims to follow out the principles laid down for "The Colonies," — the study of causes rather than of events, the development of the American nation out of scattered and inharmonious colonies. The throwing off of English control, the growth out of narrow political conditions, the struggle against foreign domination, and the extension of popular government, are all parts of the uninterrupted process of the Formation of the Union. LELAND STANFORD JR. UNIVERSITY. " The large and sweeping treatment of the subject, which shows the true re- lations of the events preceding and following the revolution, to the revolution itself, is a real addition to the literature of the subject ; while the bibliography prefixed to each chapter, adds incalculably to the value of the work." — Mary Sheldon Barnes, Palo Alto, Cal. " It is a careful and conscientious study of the period and its events, and should find a place among the text-books of our public schools." — Boston Transcript. " Professor Hart has compressed a vast deal of information into his volume, and makes many things most clear and striking. His maps, showing the terri- torial growth of the United States, are extremely interesting." — A^ew York Times. " . . The causes of the Revolution are clearly and cleverly condensed into a few pages. . . The maps in the work are singularly useful even to adults. There are five of these, which are alone worth the price of the volume," — Magazine of American History. "The formation period of our nation is treated with much care and with great precision. Each chapter is prefaced with copious references to authori- ties, which are valuable to the student who desires to pursue his reading more extensively. There are five valuable maps showing the growth of our country by successive stages and repeated acquisition of territory." — Boston Advertiser. " Dr. Hart is not only a master of the art of condensation, ... he is what is even of greater importance, an interpreter of history. He perceives the logic of historic events ; hence, in his condensation, he does not neglect proportion, and more than once he gives the student valuable clues to the solution of historical problems." — Atlantic Monthly. " A valuable volume of a valuable series. The author has written with a full knowledge of his subject, and we have little to say except in praise." — English Historical Review, LONGMANS, GREEN, & CO., 91-93 Fifth Avenue, New York. LONGMANS, GREEN, ^ CO.'S rUBLTCATTONS. EPOCHS OF AMERICAN HISTORY. III. DIVISION AND RE-UNION, 1829-1889. By WooDROW Wilson, Ph.D., LL.D., Professor of Jurisprudence in Princeton College ; Author of "Congressional Government," "The State — Elements of Historical and Practical Politics," etc., etc. With five colored Maps. 346 pages. Cloth, $1.25. "We regret that we have not space for more quotations from this uncom- monly strong, impartial, interesting book. Giving only enough facts to elucidate the matter discussed, it omits no important questions. It furnishes the reader clear-cut views of the right and the wrong of them all. It gives ad- mirable pen-portraits of the great personages of the period with as much free- dom from bias, and as much pains to be just, as if the author were delineating Pericles, or Alcibiades, Sulla, or Cassar. Dr. Wilson has earned the gratitude of seekers after truth by his masterly production." — N. C. University Magazine. " This admirable little volume is one of the few books which nearly meet our ideal of history. It is causal history in the truest sense, tracing the workings of latent influences and far-reaching conditions of their outcome in striking fact, yet the whole current of events is kept in view, and the great personalities of the time, the nerve-centers of history, live intensely and in due proportion in these pages. We do not know the equal of this book for a brief and trust- worthy, and, at the same time, a brilliantly written and sufficient history of these sixty years. We heartily commend it, not only for general reading, but as an admirable text-book." — Post-Graduate and Wooster Quarterly. " Considered as a general history of the United States from 1829 to 1889, his book is marked by excellent sense of proportion, extensive knowledge, im- partiality of judgment, unusual power of summarizing, and an acute pohtical sense. Few writers can more vividly set forth the views of parties." — Atlantic Monthly. " Students of United States history may thank Mr. Wilson for an extreme- ly clear and careful rendering of a period very difficult to handle . . . they will find themselves materially aided in easy comprehension of the pohtical situation of the country by the excellent maps." — N. Y Times. " Professor Wilson writes in a clear and forcible style. . . . The bibli- ographical references at the head of each chapter are both well selected and well arranged, and add greatly to the value of the work, which appears to be especially designed for use in instruction in colleges and preparatory schools." — Vale Review. " It is written in a style admirably clear, vigorous, and attractive, a thorough grasp of the subject is shown, and the development of the theme is lucid and orderly, while the tone is judicial and fair, and the deductions sensible and dispassionate— so far as we can see, ... It would be difficult to construct a better manual of the subject than this, and it adds greatly to the value of this useful i,GX\cs.'"—Hart/ord Courant. ". . . One of the most valuable historical works that has appeared in many years. The delicate period of our country's history, with which this work is largely taken up, is treated by the author with an irapartiahty that is almost unique." — Columbia Law Times. LONGMANS, GREEN, & CO., 91-93 Fifth Avenue, New York. LONGMANS, GREEN, &- CO.'S PUBLICATIONS. ENGLISH HISTORY FOR AMERICANS. By Thomas Wentworth Higginson, Author of "Young Folks' His- tory of the United States," etc., and Edward Channing, Assistant Professor of History in Harvard University. With 77 Illustrations, 6 Colored Maps, Bibliography, a Chronological Table of Contents, and Index. i2mo. Pp. xxxii-334. Teachers' price, $1.20. The name " English History for Americans," which suggests the key-note of this book, is based on the simple fact that it is not the practice of American readers, old or young, to give to English history more than a limited portion of their hours of study. ... It seems clear that such readers will use their time to the best advantage if they devote it mainly to those events in English annals which have had the most direct influence on the history and institutions of their own land, . . . The authors of this book have therefore boldly ventured to modify in their narrative the accustomed scale of proportion ; while it has been their wish, in the treatment of every detail, to accept the best re- sult of modern English investigation, and especially to avoid all unfair or one-sided judgments. . . . Extracts Jrom Author's Preface. DR. W. T. HARRIS, U. S. COMMISSIONER OF EDUCATION. " I take great pleasure in acknowledging the receipt of the book, and be- lieve it to be the best introduction to English history hitherto made for the use of schools. It is just what is needed in the school and in the family. It is the first history of England that I have seen which gives proper attention to socio- logy and the evolution of political ideas, without neglecting what is picturesque and interesting to the popular taste. The device of placing the four historical maps at the beginning and end deserves special mention for its convenience. Allow me to congratulate you on the publication of so excellent a text-book.'* ROXBURY LATIN SCHOOL. *' . . . The most noticeable and commendable feature in the book seems to be its Unity. ... I felt the same reluctance to lay the volume down , . . that one experiences in reading a great play or a well-constructed novel. Several things besides the unity conspire thus seductively to lead the reader on. The page is open and attractive, the chapters are short, the type is large and clear, the pictures are well chosen and significant, a surprising number of anecdotes told in a crisp and masterful manner throw valuable side- lights on the main narrative ; the philosophy of history is undeniably there, but sugar-coated, and the graceful style would do credit to a Macaulay. I shall immediately recommend it for use in our school," — Dr. D. O. S. Lowell. LAWRENCEVILLE SCHOOL. "In answer to your note of February 23d I beg to say that we have intro- duced your Higginson's English History into our graduating class and are much pleased with it. Therefore whatever endorsement I, as a member of the Committee of Ten, could give the book has already been given by my action in placing it in our classes." — James C. Mackenzie, Lawrence ville, N. J. ANN ARBOR HIGH SCHOOL. *' It seems to me the book will do for English history in this country what the 'Young Folks' History of the United States ' has done for the history of our own country — and I consider this high praise." — T. G. Pattengill, Ann Arbor, Mich. LONGMANS, GREEN, & CO., 91-93 Fifth Avenue, New York* LONGMANS, GREEN, ^ CO.'S PUBLICATIONS. A STUDENT'S HISTORY OF ENGLAND, from the Earliest Times to 1885. By Samuel Rawson Gardiner, M.A., LL.D., Fellow of All Souls College, Oxford, etc.; Author of "The History of England from the Accession of James I. to 1642," etc. Illustrated under the superintend- ence of Mr. W. H. St. John Hope, Assistant Secretary of the Society of Antiquaries, and with the assistance in the choice of Portraits of Mr. George Scharf, C.B., F.S.A., who is recognized as the highest authority on the subject. In one Volume, with 378 Illustrations and full Index. Crown 8vo, cloth, plain, $3.00. The book is also published in three Volumes {each xvith Index and Table of Contents) as follows : VOLUME I.— B.C. 55-A.D. 1509. 410 pp. With 173 Illustrations and Index. Crown 8vo, $1.20. VOLUME II.— A.D. 1509-1689. 332 pp. With 96 Illustrations and Index. Crown Svo, $1.20. VOLUME III.— A.D. 1689-1885. 374 pp. With 109 Illustrations and Index. Crown 8vo, $1.20. V Gardiner's "Student's History of England," through Part IX. (to 1789), is recommended by HARVARD UNIVERSITY as indicating the requirements for admission in this subject ; and the ENTIRE work is mada the basis for English history study in the University. YALE UNIVERSITY. "Gardiner's 'Student's History of England' seems to me an admirable short history.'' — Prof. C. H. Smith, New Haven, Conn. TRINITY COLLEGE, HARTFORD. " It is, in my opinion, by far the best advanced school history of England that I have ever seen. It is clear, concise, and scientific, and, at the same time, attractive and interesting. The illustrations are very good and a valuable addition to the book, as they are not mere pretty pictures, but of real historical and archaeological interest." — Prof, Henry Ferguson. "A unique feature consists of the very numerous illustrations. They throw light on almost every phase of English life in all ages. . . . Never, perhaps, in such a treatise has pictorial illustration been used with so good effect. The alert teacher will find here ample material for useful lessons by leading the pupil to draw the proper inferences and make the proper interpre- tations and comparisons. . . . The style is compact, vigorous, and inter- esting. There is no lack of precision ; and, in the selection of the details, the hand of the scholar thoroughly conversant with the source and with the results of recent criticism is plainly revealed." — The Nation, N. Y. " . . . It is illustrated by pictures of real value ; and when accompanied by the companion ' Atlas of English History' is all that need be desired for its special purpose." — The Churchman, N. Y. "'**^ prospectus and specimen pages of Gardiner'' s '* Studenfs History of England'''' will be sent free on application to the publishers. LONGMANS, GREEN, & CO., 91 and 93 Fifth Ave., New York. LONGMANS, GREEN, &^ CO: S PUBLICATIONS, LONGMANS' SCHOOL GRAMMAR. By David Salmon. Part I., Parts of Speech ; Part II., Classific-ation and Inflection ; Part III., Analysis of Sentences ; Part IV., History and Derivation. With Notes for Teachers and Index. New Edition, Revised. With Preface by E. A. Allen, Professor of English in the University of Missouri. i2mo. 272 pages. 75 cents. •« . , . One of the best working grammars we have ever seen, and this applies to all its parts. It is excellently arranged and perfectly graded. Part IV., on History and Derivation, is as beautiful and interesting as it is valuable —but this might be said of the whole book."— New York Teacher. " The Grammar deserves to supersede all others with which we are ac- quainted." — N. Y. Nation, July 2, 1891. PREFACE TO AMERICAN EDITION. It seems to be generally conceded that English grammar is worse taught and less understood than any other subject in the school course. This is, doubtless, largely due to the kind of text-books used, which, for the most part, require methods that violate the laws of pedagogy as well as of language. There are, however, two or three English grammars that are admirable com- mentaries on the facts of the language, but, written from the point of view of the scholar rather than of the learner, they fail to awaken any interest in the subject, and hence are not serviceable for the class-room. My attention was first called to Longmans' School Grammar by a favorable notice of it in the Nation. In hope of finding an answer to the inquiry of numerous teachers for " the best school grammar," I sent to the Publishers for a copy. An examination of the work, so far from resulting in the usual dis- appointment, left the impression that a successful text-book in a field strewn with failures had at last been produced. For the practical test of the class- room, I placed it in the hands of an accomplished grammarian, who had tried several of the best grammars published, and he declares the results to be most satisfactory. The author's simplicity of method, the clear statement of facts, the orderly arrangement, the wise restraint, manifest on every page, reveal the scholar and practical teacher. No one who had not mastered the language in its early his- torical development could have prepared a school grammar so free from sense- less rules and endless details. The most striking feature, minimnm of precept, maximum of example, will commend itself to all teachers who follow rational methods. In this edition, the Publishers have adapted the illustrative sentences to the ready comprehension of American pupils, and I take pleasure in recom- mending the book, in behalf of our mother tongue, to the teachers of our Pub- lic and Private Schools. EDViTARD A AlLKN. University of Missouri, May, 1891. MR. HALE's school, BOSTON. " I have used your Grammar and Composition during the last year in my school, and like them both very much indeed. They are the best books of the kind I have ever seen, and supply a want I have felt for a good many years."— Albert Halb, Boston, Mass. LONGMANS, GREEN, & CO., 91-93 Fifth Avenue, New York, LONGMANS, GREEN, ^ COr S PUBLICATIONS. LONGMANS' SCHOOL Q^^hMMKK.^O PINIONS, girls' high school, boston, mass. *' When you put Longmans' School Grammar in my hands, some year or two ago, I used it a little while with a boy of nine years, with perfect satisfac tion and approval. The exigencies of the boy's school arrangements inter^ cepted that course in grammar and caused the book to be laid aside. To-day I have taken the book and have examined it all, from cover to cover. It i^ simply a perfect grammar. Its beginnings are made with utmost gentleness and reasonableness, and it goes at least quite as far as in any portion of our pubhc schools course it is, for the present, desirable to think of going. The author has adjusted his book to the very best conceivable methods of teaching, and goes hand in hand with the instructor as a guide and a help. Grammar should, so taught, become a pleasure to teacher and pupil. Especially do I relish the author's pages of ' Notes for Teachers,' at the end of the book. The man who could write these notes should enlarge them into a monograph on the teaching of English Grammar. He would, thereby, add a valuable contribu- tion to our stock of available pedagogic helps. I must add in closing, that while the book in question has, of course, but small occasion to touch disputed points of English Grammar, it never incurs the censure that school grammars are almost sure to deserve, of insufficient acquaintance with modern linguistic science. In short, the writer has shown himself scientifically, as well as peda- gogically, altogether competent for his task." —Principal Samuel Thurber. high school, fort WAYNE, IND. " . . . . It is not often that one has occasion to be enthusiastic over a school-book, especially over an English Grammar, but out of pure enthusiasm, I write to express my grateful appreciation of this one. It is, without exception, the best English Grammar that I have ever seen for children from twelve to fifteen years of age. It is excellent in matter and method. Every page shows the hand of a wise and skilful teacher. The author has been content to present the facts of English Grammar in a way intelligible to children. The book is so intelligible and so interesting from start to finish that only the genius of dulness can make it dry. There are no definitions inconsistent with the facts of our language, no facts at war with the definitions. There are other grammars that are more "complete " and as correct in teaching, but not one to be compared with it in adaptation to the needs of young students. It will not chloroform the intelligence." — Principal C. T. Lane. high school, minooka, ill. " We introduced your School Grammar into our schools the first of this term, and are highly satisfied with the results. In my judgment there is no better work extant for the class of pupils for which it is designed. " — Principal E. F. Adams, newark academy, newark, n. j. " We are using with much satisfaction your Longmans' School Grammar, adopted for use in our classes over a year since. Its strong points are simplic- ity of arrangement, and abundance of examples for practice. In these par- ticulars I know of no other book equal to it." — Dr. S. A. Farrand. *^ A Prospectus showing contents and specimen pages may be had of the Pub- lishers, LONGMANS, GREEN, & CO., 91-93 Fifth Avenue, New York. LONGMANS, GREEN, of CO:S PUBLICATIONS STUDIES IN AMERICAN EDUCATION. By Albert Bushnell Hart, Ph.D. i2mo, cloth, gilt top, $1.25. Contents : Has the Teacher a Profession ? — Reform in the Grammar Schools — University Participation, a Substitute for University Extension — How to Study History — How to Teach History in Secondary Schools — The Status of Athletics in American Colleges — Index. " This volume consists of six essays, each one excellent in its way." — Public Opinion, New York. " Prof. Hart is a keen observer and a profound thinker ; he knows what American education is, and he knows what it ought to be . . . his whole treatment of the subject is vigorous and original. . . . He has a most helpful article on the study of history, and another equally significant on the teaching of history in the secondary schools." — Beacon, Boston. "The essays on 'How to Study and Teach History' are admirable. As education is a unit, the same methods can be applied in all grades. The relation of college eurriculums to secondary schools is the underlying subject of the book, but it is still an open question whether secondary schools should justify their methods because they prepare for college, or whether they should assume the independent position, that they furnish such knowledge as is most requisite for boys and girls who can study till they are eighteen, but are not going to college. It is easily possible to take this attitude and yet have a preparatory class for Harvard in the same high school." — Literary World, Boston. ** As for the essays themselves, however, only words of praise ought to be spoken. The style is clear, concise, active, enlivened by apt illustrations ; ' breezy ' may perhaps be the word. The thought is practical and clear-headed, as Professor Hart always is, and the essays themselves have been ' brought down to date.' " — School Review, Hamilton, N. Y. " This new volume from the experience and pen of Professor Hart is one of practical interest, and a valuable addition to the rapidly increasing collection of works on pedagogy. . . . While all the chapters are interesting, perhaps the one most interesting to the general reader is that on ' How to Study History,' and here Mr. Hart shows his decided preferences for the topical method of study. This chapter should be read by all students of history and especially by those members of private classes, of which so many are to be found in our villages and clubs all through the country." — Transcript, Boston. " His studies have a decidedly practical tendency, and together constitute an addition to our steadily growing stock of good educational literature." — Dial, Chicago. *' The author is especially fitted to write a volume which has the rare merit of treating current educational ideas not only from the standpoint of the teacher, but also of the pupil, the board of education and the public at large. The book will prove specially interesting and instructive to the general reader." Post Graduate, Wooster, Ohio. "Whatever Dr. Hart contributes to educational or historical literature is always worth reading, and teachers will find these essays very suggestive." School Review, Monroe, La. LONGMANS, GREEN, & CO., 91-93 Fifth Avenue, New York.