ALEXANDRA

 

 

A BIRTHDAY ODE

 

suggested by ABBEY'S masterpiece in the Academy of 1904

 

 

BEING THE WATKIN TOWER OF ENGLISH LITERATURE

 

(vice Kubla Khan and Hyperion retired hurt)

 

 

THE

 

UNFINISHED OR MUTILATED (OR BOTH)

 

 

M A N U S C R I P T

 

 

of Mr ALFRED AUSTIN, Mr OWEN SEAMAN, or Mr A.N. OTHER

 

rescued from the flames

 

 

AND

 

 

copied fair, transcribed, edited, annotated, arranged, printed, published

 

 

BY

 

 

OPHELIA COX (NÉE McHUNT)

 

and DIAPER of the Woman's Monthly

 

 

SHANGHAI

 

1905

 

Five Dollars

 

EDITORIAL NOTE

 

Pleesm!  said  my  [Diaper's,  not  Mrs  Cox's] sloppy slavey one brilliant

November morning of last year, as  the  orangegold  clouds  of  deliciously

perfumed  mist stole, in spite of the Eighth commandment, down my chimney

in Fleet Street; [of course Diaper does not live in a chimney:  she  has  a

deevie  flat there and the flat has a chimney, two chimneys, in fact, O.C.]

myav thister litafir?

 

Woman! I replied sternly, whence came it?  My  practised  eye  had  already

detected the indescribable cachet of a treasure trove -- bene trovato, sin

non  veri similitudo! as the immortal Mantuan bardic anarch hath it -- ah!

dear, dear old Dante! -- Dunnom! -- Oyussm! with a  vivid  blush  through

her  smuts  (Euphemia  knows that she cannot hope to deceive me. What is my

secret? A simple one: I always believe the worst: once in a thousand  times

I may be wrong, and it is only the next worst, but no matter.)

 

Without  prolonging  the  agony,  I may say that it shortly transpired that

Euphemia Bugg -- such is  her  name  --  has  for  years  been  the  adored

(Platonic  if  not  Aristotelian)  mistress of a distinguished litt‚rateur,

whom I have been able with difficulty (the maid is  modest,  as  one  would

expect  from the No 1 belle dame of either of these cicisbeos), with one of

the gentlemen whose name is on our title-page. The student of style will be

able to make his or her choice.

 

All we care about is that he or she should pay his or her money.

 

It is at least certainly not a posthumous work  of  Walter  Pater  or  John

Addington  Symonds:  only a crapulous mountebank would credit W.B. Yeats or

Robert Bridges with it. The only question is: did not perhaps the late Lord

Tennyson foresee events, and leave it to be published when the  right  time

came? But in this case, how account for Euphemia's possession of the dainty

thing? Anyway, it's not Tennyson: don't worry: I was only teasing.

 

She  had originally picked up the unfinished M.S. to use as curl-papers. It

was indeed written, as will  be  obvious  from  the  style,  on  sheets  of

thinnest,  softest  (and  I  believe  sterilised)  paper  of a delicate and

pleasing pale canary colour, mullioned at the shorter edges like a  postage

stamp.

 

These she had placed on my mantelpiece for pipe-spills, and forgotten about

them.

 

It  is  my pride and privilege through my old and esteemed cons{oe}ur, as I

suppose I may say for the lady of  confrŠre,  to  give  the  providentially

rescued masterpiece; alas! too incomplete!! to the World of Society, though

even  the humblest may enjoy (A navvy, when they were repairing the street,

whom I asked up to taste my delicious T. -- I think the abbreviation is  so

clever,  don't  you? -- and to whom I had read it, said: "B...y good, miss,

b...y good". A simple heartfelt tribute from the People).

 

Alas! too incomplete. But something at least is saved, -- honour, which  if

you  remember was all Sir George got out of King Francis' great lion at the

battle of Pavium -- you have read Mrs Browning's  scrumptious  poemlet,  of

course.

 

"Diaper"  will at least avoid the Infernum proscribed for John Stuart Mill,

Newton's dog, and Mr Warburton's housemaid. Nunquam plaudite!

 

 

 

A L E X A N D R A

 

--

 

INTRODUCTORY PINDARIC ODE

 

By O.C.

 

 

Alexandra! Alexandra!

Lege! non ero Cassandra.

Ego scribam qu‘ me decet:

Xenophon non nimis fecit.

Alexandra! Alexandra!

Non ero mala Cassandra.

De te poetam, fac, ver, me!

Regne! Vive! Ama! Germe!

Alexandra! me inerme!

 

Regne! Ama! Germe! Vive!

Ex ad te it cupido cive.

Gratiam Deo demus mutuam

In cubili si te futuam.

Non ero mala Cassandra,

Alexandra! Alexandra!<1>

 

(Mrs Cox's Latinity is sometimes not quite up to  Fleet  Street  mark:  and

these lines are decidedly not regular hexameters: Professor Jibb, to whom I

submitted  the  point,  was  quite  at  one  with me upon it, after a days'

consideration. But  the  acrostic  is  beautifully  carried  out:  and  the

sentiment  is throughout loyal, enthusiastic, generous, delicate, forceful,

noble,  svelte,  admirable,  delicate,  reverently  amorous,   respectfully

familiar  (Mrs  Cox  is  in  the  very  best set at Shanghai) and as I have

elsewhere observed, above all, delicate.

 

In particular the male vigour of,  ll. 11-13  is  all  her  own:  there  is

nothing  like  it  in  Sappho,  at  least in those of her works that I have

hitherto had the glorious privilege of perusing. It  is,  by  the  way,  my

favourite pastime when I have, as we say in Fleet Street, the "blunt" to go

down  to  Marlow  or  Maidenhead  in  a  punt,  and there lie in some shady

favourite backwater with my favourite girl friend in front.  What  a  thing

friendship  is,  world  without  end!  --  and my favourite old black briar

between my lips, and her sweet face fixed on my old favourite thumb-worn --

copy of Sappho, and pore over the deevie pages, hour after hour,  bound  by

the  Woman's  Guild.  No! Sappho has nothing like this in all her scroll of

gorgeous rhyme: Cox has, and I am proud to have been to her what I have.

 

Rosie Brooks (Diaper)

 

 

 

A L E X A N D R A

 

--

 

 

I

 

The sixty summers that have rolled away

     Since first thy fame by bard and sage was sung

Leave thee to England and to us to-day

            Still fair and young.

 

 

II

 

I saw thee limned in all the robes and pearls,

     Diamonds and ermine that proclaim thee queen:

Thou wast (or I know nothing about girls)

             Barely eighteen.<2>

 

 

 

      

 

VII

 

Thy royal Edward's undivided love

     Hath been thy lifelong privilege, 'tis true!

Still, is he not, though us so far above,

               Our Edward too?

 

 

 

      

 

XII

 

Why did the heathen Hindoo's loyal roar

     Acclaim that dream brighter than bard e'er dreamt?<3>

He worshipped thee<4> ...

 

 

XIII

 

'Twas not thy George's viking frame that set

     Australia cheering: but their souls surprise

The God within his magian deeply-set

             Mysterious eyes.<5>

 

 

 

      

 

XIX

 

Thou with thy smile<6> encouraged<7> all the sages<8>

     Who strove to alleviate<9> man's bitter lot:<10>

Thou saved<11> the pigeons in their trappy cages,

            From being shot.<12>

 

 

XXIV

 

Marriage declines (our sobbing statesmen<13> own)

     The birthrate shows mysterious decay:

'Tis that each loyal bosom knows alone

              Thy single sway.

 

 

XXV

 

Maidens and wives<14> take tribute of our days:

     We love them (nous leur jurons nos grands dieux!)

'Tis but (in von Krafft-Ebing's pregnant phrase)

               Faute de mieux.

 

 

XXVI

 

With wives and sweethearts for awhile we dally:

     We haunt the Empire,<15> pace the piteous Strand:<16>

Or friendless, coinless, for a spurt we rally

           The faltering hand.<17>

 

 

XXVII

 

We prate of Pamela, we pipe of Polly,<18>

     We stock the loved disciple's shady wood:<19>

All this is merely visionary folly:

              It does no good.

 

 

XXVIII

 

We turn us from the tedious trivial traffic

     To vests that hold (your choicest spoil, be sure,

O Illustrated London News or Graphic!)

             Thy miniature.<20>

 

 

XXIX

 

To Ann, Bess, Clara, Dora, Ethel, Florrie,

     Grace, Helen, Ida, Jane, Kate, Lily, May,

Nan, Olga, Prudence, Queenie, we say "Sorry!"

               And turn away.

 

 

XXX

 

Even from Rose, Sal, Tabs, Ulrica, Violet,

     Winnie, Xantippe, Yolande, Zaza, we

Turn like the magnet to the sailor's eyelet<21>

           To thee -- to thee.<22>

 

 

XXXIII

 

Hell ...

 

               Desunt cetera.

 

 

 

[Footnotes]

 

<1>  Translation  by  Mr A.B.  Waulkphast.  Alexandra!  Alexandra!  Read!

I will not be a Cassandra.  (i.e. a prophetess of evil.) I will  write

those  things  which  become  me: Xenophon (an ancient writer ...  ah!

did you once see Shelley plain? in  his  extant  masterpiece)  did  no

more.  Alexandra!  Alexandra!  I will not be a bad Cassandra. (i.e.  a

seer of future misfortunes.) O  spring!   make  me  a  poet  (poetess)

concerning  thee!  Reign!  Live!  Love!   Be  fruitful!  Alexandra!  I

being unarmed. (Because Mrs Cox is a  woman.  Cf.  Voltaire:  "O  che

sciagura essere sin cogl ...") Reign! Love! Be fruitful! Live! Out of

the  citizen  desire goes to thee. We will give grateful mutual thanks

to God if I shall ... (I do not know what futuam can mean. (Look  up

your  Latin  Dic.,  though  I  admit  it  is  an  unusual word in this

connection, and may seem unjustifiable to those who have not  seen  my

cl...  O.C.  (MS.  illegible. Printer))) ...  thee in bed.  I will not

be a bad Cassandra. (i.e. a prognosticatress of calamity.)  Alexandra!

Alexandra!

 

<2>  Cancelled passage: verse III.

 

"Will not some hero, loyal, leal, and true,"

     (Men fainting cried) "the accursed chromo take?"

The nation took the chromo, queen, and you,

              You took the cake.

 

<3>  Clearly refers to the late Duke of Clarence and Avondale.

 

<4>  Suggested restoration by Dr Verrall and Brugsch Bey:

 

... and made allowance for

          A first attempt.

 

<5>  v.l. ... his Hoffmann's violet

                    Aniline eyes.

 

<6>  v.l. You with your smile ... with that smile.

 

<7>  v.l. encouragedst.

 

<8>  v.l. all the savants ... in their trappy caverns

     ... all the Magi ... (Oh anthropophagi!)

 

<9>  v.l. to 'meliorate.'

 

<10> It is an open secret that the late Herbert Spencer was solely inspired

in his laborious labours by a desire  to  gratify  his  august  though

bewitching  sovereign.   It  is  related  that  in his early days as a

student Her Majesty was visiting the school where  he  studied.  "What

are  you  doing, Herbert?" asked the beautiful but insouciant girl, as

she then, as she now is, was. "Studying  philosophy,  miss!"  was  the

brusque  yet  courtly  reply.  "Why  study it?  Rather synthesize it!"

observed the thoughtful  though  dazzling  monarch.  "I  will,  miss!"

cried  the  youth,  the flash of genius leaping to his eyes. And as we

all know, he kept his word.

 

<11> v.l. You saved ... savedst.

 

<12> It is said that on the occasion of  an  important  shooting  match  at

Hurlingham,  in  which  the  Prince  of  Wales was to take part, Queen

Alexandra in full regalia rushed between No. 3 trap  and  the  24-yard

mark,  and, in noble imitation of the Empress Agrippina, smote herself

in the region of the uterus and cried "Strike here!" From that  moment

the doom of pigeon-shooting (save the mark!) at least in England, ever

leader of humanitarian exacerbation, was sealed.

 

<13> v.l. ... our statisticians own ... our J. Holt Schoolings.

 

<14> v.l. Maids, matross, mots ...

 

<15> v.l. Oxford.

 

<16> i.e. we occupy various official positions in India and the Colonies.

 

Strand: i.e., the foreign strand. Cf. Heber (not the Kenite)  "India's

coral  strand".  The phrase denotes homesickness. But the whole stanza

is certainly obscure.

 

<17> Probably   waving  to  the  distant  shores  of  beloved  Albion.  But

"friendless, coinless" suggests rather the dead-beat than the  Indian,

or Colonial official.

 

<18> vv. ll.   We ask for Anne, we argue over Ada,

   All is foredoomed to fail; like the Armada:

 

   We bleat of Barbara, we brawl of Bertha,

   All this is like an edict of Jugurtha.

 

   We cuddle Clara, we caress Corinna,

   They are not worth the simple "Ta' ala hinna!"

 

   We chatter of Chilperic, we chirp of Cholly,

   (As in text)

 

   We drivel of Dorine, we drone of Dolly,

   (As in text)

 

   We eulogize Elaine, we egg on Emma,

   They do not draw us from our drear dilemma:

 

   We fiddle of Fifine, we fife of Fanny,

   This is as gruesome as to grind one's granny:

 

   We ... Fifine, we ... with Fanny.*

   This is as gruesome as to grind one's granny:

 

   We gloat on Gabrielle, we goo-goo Gertie,

   This is unsatisfactory and dirty:

 

   We howl of Helen, we hurrah for Hertha,

   (As for B)

 

   We inspan Ivy, we invoke Irene,

   Like sound advice to Mr. Mantalini,

 

   We joke with Julia, we jolly Jessie,

   This is a proposition really messy:

 

   We kiss Kathleen, we knock up Katherina,

   Like Bonaparte's success at Beresina,

 

   We leer at Lilian, we long for Lottie,

   This is admittedly extremely dotty:

 

   We maunder of Marie, we miaul of Molly,

   (As in text)

 

   We nuzzle up to Norah, we nudge Nancy,

   All this is but the play of idle fancy:

 

   We ogle Olive, we oblate to Olga,

   This dodge is vain as dreams upon the Volga:

 

   We quiz Querida, quarrel over Queenie,

   (As for I)

 

   We rave of Rowena, we rant of Rachel,

   All's a mirage like sailors see in Seychelles:

 

   We sing of Sue, we serenade Selina,

   (As for K)

 

   We talk of Tabitha, we troll of Thais,

   Like Shelley's effort to save Adonais,

 

   We undress Undine, we up Ugolina,

   (As for K)

 

   We violate Vivien, we vault on Vera,

   All's an unsatisfactory chim‘ra;

 

   We waste for Wilhelmine, we wail for Winnie,

   The harmony is harsh, the tune is tinny;

 

   We xylo Xenia, we X-ray Xantippe,

   We disagree with Fra Filippo Lippi:

 

   We xylo Xavier, we X-ray Xerxes,

   This is a vision like a drunken Turk sees:

 

   We yammer of Yvonne, we yell Yolande,

   This is weak tea to Alexandra's brandy:

 

   We zeal for Zelma, zig-zag after Zaza,

   No! happiness is never … la casa:

 

     * Verbs illegible; and we cannot give the remotest guess. Ed.

 

<19> The  loved  disciple  is perhaps St John. But Patmos is a rocky, not a

     wooded, island. Obscure.

 

<20> Not  a  painted  miniature, of course. More probably a black and white

     reproduction, or possibly a coloured one, of a sketch  or  photograph.

     Only  the  gentlemen  and  noblemen  about  the  court  would  be in a

     position to order a painting on ivory by an artist such as Sargent  or

     Herkomer from such sketch or photograph.

 

<21> The nautical reference  is,  on  the  authority  of  Lloyd's  journal,

     obscure.

 

<22> Cancelled passage, vv. XXXI, XXXII.

 

 

XXXI

 

Who turn? Why, Arthur, Bertie, Charles, Dick, Edward,

     Frank, George, Hal, Ike, John, Kenneth, Leonard, Mike,

Nat, Oliver, Pete, Quintus, wend them bedward

                Alone, alike.

 

 

XXXII

 

               So Roger, Sam, Tom, Unus, Victor, Willie,

     Xenocrates, Yeo, Zeno, frown on fun,

               Disdain, delight, cry: "Though you think us silly,

                A.R. or none!"

 

The  line  "Alone,  alike" resembled too nearly "Aloft, alone", in the

famous Diamond Jubilee Ode. Hence the whole passage had to go.