The Princess (prologue)
Read "The Princess (Prologue)" by Alfred, Lord Tennyson, with a complete literary analysis exploring storytelling, gender, education, social expectations, imagination, and the narrative framework Tennyson establishes for his larger examination of relationships between women and men.
Sir Walter Vivian all a summer's day
Gave his broad lawns until the set of sun
Up to the people: thither flocked 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,
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 snowshoe, toys in lava, fans
Of sandal, amber, ancient rosaries,
Laborious orient ivory sphere in sphere,
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 forefathers' arms and armour hung.
And 'this' he said 'was Hugh's at Agincourt;
And that was old Sir Ralph'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
Who laid about them at their wills and died;
And mixt with these, a lady, one that armed
Her own fair head, and sallying through the gate,
Had beat her foes with slaughter from her walls.
'O miracle of women,' said the book,
'O noble heart who, being strait-besieged
By this wild king to force her to his wish,
Nor bent, nor broke, nor shunned a soldier's death,
But now when all was lost or seemed as lost--
Her stature more than mortal in the burst
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 whelmed with missiles of the wall,
And some were pushed with lances from the rock,
And part were drowned within the whirling brook:
O miracle of noble womanhood!'
So sang the gallant glorious chronicle;
And, I all rapt in this, 'Come out,' he said,
'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 through the park: strange was the sight to me;
For all the sloping pasture murmured, 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 reared a font of stone
And drew, from butts of water on the slope,
The fountain of the moment, playing, now
A twisted snake, and now a rain of pearls,
Or steep-up spout whereon the gilded ball
Danced like a wisp: and somewhat lower down
A man with knobs and wires and vials fired
A cannon: Echo answered 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
Dislinked with shrieks and laughter: round the lake
A little clock-work steamer paddling plied
And shook the lilies: perched about the knolls
A dozen angry models jetted steam:
A petty railway ran: a fire-balloon
Rose gem-like up before the dusky groves
And dropt a fairy parachute and past:
And there through twenty posts of telegraph
They flashed a saucy message to and fro
Between the mimic stations; so that sport
Went hand in hand with Science; otherwhere
Pure sport; a herd of boys with clamour bowled
And stumped the wicket; babies rolled about
Like tumbled fruit in grass; and men and maids
Arranged a country dance, and flew through light
And shadow, while the twangling violin
Struck up with Soldier-laddie, and overhead
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
Came to the ruins. High-arched and ivy-claspt,
Of finest Gothic lighter than a fire,
Through 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 Ralph himself,
A broken statue propt against the wall,
As gay as any. Lilia, wild with sport,
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,
And there we joined 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
Of college: he had climbed 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
Veneered with sanctimonious theory.
But while they talked, above their heads I saw
The feudal warrior lady-clad; which brought
My book to mind: and opening this I read
Of old Sir Ralph a page or two that rang
With tilt and tourney; then the tale of her
That drove her foes with slaughter from her walls,
And much I praised her nobleness, and 'Where,'
Asked Walter, patting Lilia's head (she lay
Beside him) 'lives there such a woman now?'
Quick answered Lilia 'There are thousands now
Such women, but convention beats them down:
It is but bringing up; no more than that:
You men have done it: how I hate you all!
Ah, were I something great! I wish I were
Some might poetess, I would shame you then,
That love to keep us children! O 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 played the patron with her curls.
And one said smiling 'Pretty were the sight
If our old halls could change their sex, and flaunt
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 Ralph
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-sandaled foot:
'That's your light way; but I would make it death
For any male thing but to peep at us.'
Petulant she spoke, and at herself she laughed;
A rosebud set with little wilful thorns,
And sweet as English air could make her, she:
But Walter hailed a score of names upon her,
And 'petty Ogress', and 'ungrateful Puss',
And swore he longed at college, only longed,
All else was well, for she-society.
They boated and they cricketed; they talked
At wine, in clubs, of art, of politics;
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 missed the mignonette of Vivian-place,
The little hearth-flower Lilia. Thus he spoke,
Part banter, part affection.
'True,' she said,
'We doubt not that. O yes, you missed us much.
I'll stake my ruby ring upon it you did.'
She held it out; and as a parrot turns
Up through gilt wires a crafty loving eye,
And takes a lady's finger with all care,
And bites it for true heart and not for harm,
So he with Lilia's. Daintily she shrieked
And wrung it. 'Doubt my word again!' he said.
'Come, listen! here is proof that you were missed:
We seven stayed at Christmas up to read;
And there we took one tutor as to read:
The hard-grained Muses of the cube and square
Were out of season: never man, I think,
So mouldered in a sinecure as he:
For while our cloisters echoed 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--played
Charades and riddles as at Christmas here,
And ~what's my thought~ and ~when~ and ~where~ and ~how~,
As here at Christmas.'
She remembered that:
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 wondered, by themselves?
A half-disdain
Perched on the pouted blossom of her lips:
And Walter nodded at me; '~He~ began,
The rest would follow, each in turn; and so
We forged a sevenfold story. Kind? what kind?
Chimeras, crotchets, Christmas solecisms,
Seven-headed monsters only made to kill
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 warped his mouth at this
To something so mock-solemn, that I laughed
And Lilia woke with sudden-thrilling mirth
An echo like a ghostly woodpecker,
Hid in the ruins; till the maiden Aunt
(A little sense of wrong had touched her face
With colour) turned to me with 'As you will;
Heroic if you will, or what you will,
Or be yourself you hero if you will.'
'Take Lilia, then, for heroine' clamoured 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,'
I answered, '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
For which the good Sir Ralph had burnt them all--
This ~were~ a medley! we should have him back
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.
The Princess (prologue) Summary and Analysis
The Princess opens in a social world that feels both festive and carefully arranged. A group of young men visit Vivian-place, where Sir Walter Vivian has turned his grounds into a public occasion, mixing hospitality, scientific display, family sociability, and educated conversation. The unnamed narrator is present as a college friend, and through his eyes the scene becomes a lively collision of old and new: the Gothic ruins, the Greek house, the relics of war and exploration, and the modern amusements of telegraphs, balloons, and electrical shocks all crowd together in a single summer day.
From this setting, the poem moves toward its larger concern: what kind of story can be told in such a world, and what place women should have in it. The men's teasing, Lilia's quick anger, and her wish for a women's college sharpen the poem's central tension between tradition and change. Tennyson does not present the issue as simple advocacy; instead, he stages a conversation in which wit, affection, mock-heroism, and genuine impatience all mingle. The prologue ends by choosing to tell a tale, but it also leaves readers aware that the tale will be shaped by the conflicts already alive in the room: learning and play, authority and freedom, masculine custom and female aspiration.
Tone in The Princess (prologue)
Tennyson's tone is urbane, playful, and observant, with a faint satirical edge whenever social habits or masculine assumptions come into view. The atmosphere for the reader, however, is more layered: the opening feels bright and animated, but beneath the holiday bustle runs a current of intellectual tension. What begins as a summer gathering gradually acquires the sense of a debate about culture itself, so the mood shifts from easy sociability to subtle unease and expectation.
This literary analysis was generated with AI and may contain interpretive differences. Provide your analysis in the comments section.
Themes in The Princess (prologue)
- Tradition and modernity - The poem places medieval ruins, knights, and old family armor beside telegraphs, steam models, and scientific demonstrations, creating a world where the past and present compete for meaning rather than replacing one another.
- Women's education and equality - Lilia's angry wish for a women's college turns the conversation from playful banter into a serious challenge to the assumptions that limit women's intellectual lives.
- Performance and role-playing - Nearly everyone in the prologue seems to play a part, whether as host, scholar, flirt, or mock-hero. This makes identity feel social and theatrical, not fixed.
- Art, story, and invention - The decision to begin a tale after so much talk about tales suggests that storytelling itself is a kind of imaginative test, one that can reshape social arguments into art.
- Class and privilege - Vivian-place is a space of generosity, but also of hierarchy: tenants, neighbors, and educated guests all gather under the patronage of the estate, reminding readers that culture is tied to social power.
- Gendered power - The men's joking superiority and Lilia's resistance create a lively struggle over who gets to speak, learn, and define the terms of seriousness.
Literary Devices in The Princess (prologue)
- Blank verse - The poem's unrhymed iambic pentameter gives the dialogue and description a flexible, elevated movement that suits both narrative grandeur and conversational ease.
- Cataloguing - Tennyson piles up objects, inventions, and relics in long lists to create a sense of abundance and intellectual variety, while also showing how culture can become crowded and mixed.
- Contrast - The prologue repeatedly sets opposites against each other: ruins and technology, play and seriousness, male and female spheres, past and present. These contrasts drive the poem's argument.
- Simile - Vivid comparisons, such as images drawn from birds, moths, or weather, make the social scene feel alive and help define character through motion and behavior.
- Irony - The men's playful remarks about women's education and Lilia's fierce replies create an ironic gap between their light tone and the seriousness of the issue.
- Personification - Abstract or natural forces such as Echo and Time are treated as if they were present actors, giving the landscape a living, responsive quality.
- Allusion - References to knights, crusaders, and classical or historic forms of learning connect the prologue to older cultural ideals, which the poem both borrows and questions.
- Dialogue - The conversation-style structure lets character and conflict emerge naturally, making the prologue feel immediate and socially charged.
Symbolism in The Princess (prologue)
- Vivian-place - The estate symbolizes a cultivated world where wealth, learning, and hospitality shape public life, but also where inherited privilege frames every exchange.
- The ruins - The abbey ruins suggest history's endurance and decay at once, standing as a reminder that every era builds on the remains of another.
- The Greek house - Its classical style suggests order, learning, and aspiration, while also hinting at a polished cultural ideal that may not fully fit the contemporary world.
- Scientific instruments and demonstrations - Telegraphs, cannons, balloons, and electrical devices symbolize the energy of modern knowledge and the period's faith in experiment.
- Lilia's ring - The ring becomes a small emblem of wit, flirtation, and personal claim, but also of the quick social sparring between the characters.
- Sir Walter Vivian's family armor - The ancestral weapons represent inherited heroic tradition, which the poem treats with respect but also with a kind of decorative distance.
- The college setting - College functions as a symbol of masculine education and privilege, the standard from which Lilia imagines women should not be excluded.
Historical Context of The Princess (prologue)
The Princess belongs to the Victorian age, when debates over women's education, the social roles of men and women, and the authority of tradition were becoming increasingly visible in literature and public life. Tennyson draws on forms associated with epic and romance, but he sets them inside a recognizably modern setting of universities, science, estates, and polite conversation. That mixture reflects a broader nineteenth-century habit of testing inherited ideals against changing social realities.
The prologue also reflects the Victorian fascination with progress and specialization, especially the prestige of science and formal education. At the same time, the poem's interest in medieval imagery and aristocratic memory shows how strongly the period continued to imagine the past as a source of cultural authority. The result is a poem rooted in a society negotiating between inherited hierarchies and new claims for intellectual and social change.
Poems Similar to The Princess (prologue)
- Aurora Leigh - Elizabeth Barrett Browning
- A Room of One's Own - Virginia Woolf
- Goblin Market - Christina Rossetti
- The Lady of Shalott - Alfred Lord Tennyson
- In an Artist's Studio - Christina Rossetti