305 air women DREAM OF FAIR WOMEN BY THE LAUREATE LORD TENNYSON EDITED BY HUBERT M. SKINNER, Ph. D. ORVILLE BREWER PUBLISHING CO., THE AUDITORIUM, CHICAGO •3i \ . { LIBRARY of CONGRESS Two Copies Received DEC 8 1905 ^Copyright Entry CLASS CK. XXc. No. COPY B. COPYRIGHT, 1905 BY ORVILLE BREWER FAIR WOMEN OF TENNYSON'S DREAM. The "Dream of Fair Women" has been a favorite study in women's ckibs and seminaries and elsewhere. But a sad drawback to the popular enjoyment of the poem has been the lack of an index or key for the identi- fication of the characters. To be able to name these is an accomplishment which students prize, and which many a teacher of literature lacks ; for the personages are not selected generally from the "stock" characters of his- tory. Mary, Queen of Scots, is not in the list, nor is Elizabeth ; and one may look in vain fen* Josephine of France. Some of the characters, indeed, it requires no little research and ingenuity to identify. The first Avho speaks is Helen of Troy, whose beauty caused a ten years' war. Of course, it is easy to guess her from the first utterance she makes : "I had great beauty ; ask thou not my name ; No one can be more wise than destiny. Men drew their swords and died. Where'er I came, I brought calamity." But it is not so easy to identify the second character who speaks. " 'My youth,' she said, 'was blasted with a curse; This woman was the cause.' " Only indirectly w^as Helen the cause of the "curse" of the ill-starred Iphigeni'a. The latter, a Greek princess, was chosen for a sacrifice to propitiate the gods at the beginning of the Trojan war, which was caused bv <-i>a iii iv A DREAM OF FAIR WOMEN. jibtluction of Helen. Iphigenia relates how she swooned as the sacrificial knife approached her : "The bright death quivered at the victim's throat; Touched, and I knew no more." It is pleasant to remember, however, that there is a version of the story to the effect that Iphigenia escaped the final sacrifice, much as did Isaac, the son of Abraham, in the Scripture narrative. .The hand of the priest was stayed by divine interposition ; a brute victim was sub- stituted, and the fair maiden was whisked away miracu- lously to distant Tauris, there to be a priestess of the chaste goddess. Next comes the queen of the great world tragedy, Cleopatra, the matchless heroine of ancient history. In her speech is a tone of pride and exultation over her con- quests of men, and satisfaction that she had at least out- witted Octavius, "that dull, cool-blooded Caesar," by securing an asp and causing it to bite her. She died robed and crowned upon her couch, as she exclaims, bcin<' a victor even in death. Next is Jephtha's daughter, whose story is familiar to Bible readers, being related in full in the "Book of Judges." It is a sad story, and has furnished the sub- ject for many poems and paintings. Jcphtha had vowed to sacrifice to God whatever should first come forth from the doors of his house on his return home from his vic- tory, and, alas! it was his beloved daughter who rushed forth to meet him first. Next is "Fair Ros'amond," of whose story there is much doubt, though it concerns historical personages. The daughter of Lord Clifford, she became the object of tlie affections of Henry II. of England. He concealed her at Woodstock in a maze, or labvrinth, we are told ; A DREAM OF FAIR WOMEN. V and when he visited her he traced liis way by following a silken thread which was strung along the walls on one side of the passages to be followed. The queen, Eleanor, discovered the clew and followed it. Slie bore a dagger and a bowl of poison, and offered her rival a choice as to the manner of her death; and the unhappy woman drank the fatal draught. Old ballad lore of the English seems to confirm the truth of the story as told. At all events, i'L has been pretty generally received as true in the main. Fair Rosamond cries : "Would I had been some maiden coarse and poor ! O me, that I should ever see the light ! Those dragon eyes of angered Eleanor Do haunt me, day and night." The next is a heroine little known to students of his- tory. She utters no speech, and she appears at day- break, almost at the close of the dream. The poet says : "Morn broadened on the borders of the dark Ere I saw her who clasped in her last trance her mur- dered father's head." This was ]Margaret Roper, the daughter of the ill- fated Sir Thomas ^Nlore, and the wife of his biographer. i\iore's daughter was permitted to see her father just before his execution. She secured his head by a ruse, and hid it in her cabinet, and left orders that it should be placed upon her breast when she should be burietl. Her wishes were carried out. There is but a mere mention of Joan of Arc, and then, at the very last, is the vision of — "Her who knew that love can vanquish Death ; Who kneeling, with one arm about her king, Drew forth the poison with her balmv breath, Sweet as new birds in spring." Vi A DREAM OF FAIR WOMi.N. This was anotlicr Eleanor, the wife of the prince who became the great Edward I. of England. Prince Ed- Avard served in the last of the crusades, and his faithful wife followed him to Palestine. He was once stabbed with a poisoned dagger, and the princess saved his life by drawing the poison from his wound with her lips, at the Imminent peril of her life. It will be seen that Tennyson chose eight "fair women" from the heroines of a period of 2,700 years. They are thus ancient, medieval, and modern. There are great queens and gentle maidens, generally unfortunate, but generally pure and noble. There is but one picture of the devoted wife; there are two of loving daughters. The poem is tragic, from first to last. It is simply a piece of art, in which lovely and unfortunate women are arranged as flowers in a bouquet, though they seem to come together fortuitously, as do all the materials of dreams. There is no particular moral to be drawn from the dream, though there seems to be a sad recognition of fate in the words : "In every land I saw, wherever light illumineth. Beauty and anguish walking hand in hand The downward slope to death." A DEEAM OF FAIR WOMEN. By XHJfi Laukeate Lokd Tennyson. 1832. I. I read, before my eyelids dropt their shade, -The Legendc of Goode Women," long ago Sung by the morning star of song, who made His music heard below; II. Dan Chaucer, the first warbler, whose sweet breath Preluded those melodious bursts that fill The spacious times of great Elizabeth With sounds that echo still. III. And for a while the knowledge of his art Held mc above the subject, as strong gales Hold swollen clouds from raining, tho' my heart, Brimful of those wild tales, IV. Charged both mine eyes with tears. In every land I saw, wherever light illumineth, Beauty and anguish walking, hand in hand. The downward slope to death. V. Those far-renowned brides of ancient song Peopled the hollow dark, like burning stars, And I heard sounds of insult, shame, and wrong, And trumpets blowoi for wars ; 7 8 A DREAM OP FAIR WOMEN. VI. And clattering flints battered with clanging hoofs: And I saw crowds in colunnied sanctuaries; And forms that passed at windows and on roofs Of marble palaces ; VII. Corpses across the threshold ; heroes tall Dislodging pinnacle and parapet Upon the tortoise creeping to the wall ; Lances in ambush set ; VIII. And high shrine doors burst thro' with heated blasts That run before the fluttering tongues of fire; White surf wind-scattered over sails and masts, And, ever climbing higher, IX. Squadrons and squadrons of men in brazen plates, Scaff'olds, still sheets of water, divers woes, Ranges of glimmering vaults with iron gates. And liushed seraglio. X. So shape chased shape as swift as when to land Bluster the winds and tides the self-same way, Crisp foam flakes scud along the level sand, Torn from the fringe of spray. XI. I started once, or seemed to start. In pain, Resolved on noble things, and strove to speak, As w^hen a great thought strikes along the brain, And flushes all the cheek. A DREAM OF FAIR WOMEN. J XII. And once my arm was liftetl to hew clown A cavalier from off his saddle-how, That bore a lady from a 'leaguered town ; And then, I know not how, XIII. All those sharp fancies by down-lapsing thought Streamed onward, lost their edges, and did creep, Rolled on each other, roinided, smoothed, and brought Into the gulfs of sleep. XIV. At last methought that I had wandered far In an old wood ; fresh washed in coolest dew, The maiden sj)lendors of the morning star Shook in the steadfast blue. XV. Enormous elm-tree boles did stoop and lean L'^pon the dusky brushwood underneath Their broad-curved branches, fiedged with clearest green, New from its silken sheath. XVI. The dim, red morn had died, her journey done, And with dead lips smiled at the twilight plain, Half-fallen across the threshold of the sun, Never to rise again. XVII. There was no motion in the dmnb, dead air, Not any song of bird or sound of rill; Gross darkness of the inner sepulchre Is not so deadly still 10 A DREAM OF FAIR WOMEN. XVIII. As that wide forest. Growths of jasmine turned Their humid arms festooning tree to tree, And at the root thro' kish green grasses burned The red anemone. XIX. I knew the flowers, I knew the leaves, I knew The tearful glinuner of the languid dawn On those long, rank, dark wood- walks drenched in dew, Leading from lawn to lawn. XX. The smell of violets, hidden in the green, Poured back into my empty soul and frame The times when I remember to have been Joyful and free from Ijlame. XXI. And from within me a clear under-tone Thrilled thro' mine ears in that unblissful clime, "Pass freely thro' ; the wood is all thine own. Until the end of time." XXII. At length I saw a lady within call, Stiller than chiseled marble, standing there; A daughter of the gods, divinely tall. And most divinely fair. XXIII. Her loveliness with shame and with sur])risc Froze my swift speech ; she turning on my face The star-like sorrows of immortal eyes, Spoke slowly in her place. HELEN OF TROY. o A DREAM OF FAIR WOMEN. 15 XXIV. "I had great, beauty: ask thou uot my name: No one can be more wise than destiny. Many drew swords and died. Where'er I came I brought calamity." XXV. "No marvel, sovereign lady ; in fair field ^Myself for such a face had boldly died." I answer'd free; and turning I appealed To one that stood beside. XXVI. But she, with sick and scornful looks averse, To her full height her stately stature draws; '*My youth," she said, "was blasted with a curse; This woman was the cause. XXVII. "I was cut off from hope in that sad place, Which yet to name my spirit loathes and fears: My father held his hand upon his face: I, blinded with my tears, XXVIII. "Still strove to speak ; my voice was thick Avith sighs, As in a dream. Dimly I could descry The stern, black-bearded kings, with wolfish eyes, Waiting to see me die. XXIX. "The high masts flickered as they lay afloat ; The crowds, the temples, wavered, and the shore ; The bright death quivered at the victim's throat ; Touched ; and I knew no more." 16 A DREAM OF FAIR WOMEN. XXX. Whereto the other, with a downward brow : "I would the white cold heavy-plunging foam, Whirled by the wind, had rolled nie deep below. Then when I left my home." XXXI. Her slow full words sank tlu'o' the silence drear, As thunder-drops fall on a sleeping sea ; Sudden I heard a voice that cried, "Come here, That I ma}' look on thee." XXXII. I turning saw, throned on a flowery rise, One sitting on a crimson scarf unrolled ; A queen, with swarthy cheeks and bold, black eyes, Brow-bound \\ith burning gold. XXXIII. She, flashing forth a haughty smile, began: "I governed men by change, and so I swayed All moods. 'Tis long since I have seen a man. Once, like the moon, I made XXXIV. *'The ever-shifting currents of the blood According to my humor ebb and flow. I have no men to govern in this wood : That makes my only woe. XXXV. *'Nay — yet it chafes me that I could not bend One will ; nor tame and tutor with mine eye Tliat dull cold-blooded Caesar. Prythee, friend, Where is ]Mark Antony? CLEOPATRA. A DREAM OF FAIR WOMEN. 19 XXXVI. "Tlie man, my lover, with whom I rode subhme On Fortune's neck ; we sut as God by God ; The Nihis would have risen before his time And flooded at our nod. XXXVII. "We drank the Libyan sun to sleep, and lit Lamps which outburned Canopus. () my life In E