it is not the idealised Elizabeth whom English loyalty created, lived
for, and died for. Mr Froude wrote, "You have given us the greatest
of all your works," an opinion which the world can never accept.
"You have reclaimed one more section of English History from the
wilderness, and given it a form in which it will be fixed for ever.
No one since Shakespeare has done that." But Mr Froude had done it,
and Tennyson's reading of "the section" is mainly that of Mr Froude.
Mr Gladstone found that Cranmer and Gardiner "are still in a
considerable degree mysteries to me." A mystery Cranmer must remain.
Perhaps the "crowds" and "Voices" are not the least excellent of the
characters, Tennyson's humour finding an opportunity in them, and in
Joan and Tib. His idyllic charm speaks in the words of Lady Clarence
to the fevered Queen; and there is dramatic genius in her reply:-


"Mary. What is the strange thing happiness? Sit down here:
Tell me thine happiest hour.
Lady Clarence. I will, if that
May make your Grace forget yourself a little.
There runs a shallow brook across our field
For twenty miles, where the black crow flies five,
And doth so bound and babble all the way
As if itself were happy. It was May-time,
And I was walking with the man I loved.
I loved him, but I thought I was not loved.
And both were silent, letting the wild brook
Speak for us--till he stoop'd and gather'd one
From out a bed of thick forget-me-nots,
Look'd hard and sweet at me, and gave it me.
I took it, tho' I did not know I took it,