In this, the last of his Ladies of Shalott, Waterhouse chose that
same moment as Meteyard, when the lady catches a glimpse of a
young couple in her mirror. This lady does not close her eyes
in pain, though. She stretches and gazes wistfully, apparently
daydreaming about the life she is missing. She is not the same
prisoner, high up in her tower that we saw in the previous version.
We get the feeling that it is pure will power that prevents the
lady from leaning out of her balcony window. This is not the padded
cell of Meteyard's vision, for Waterhouse has given her a large
clear mirror, reflecting a wide balcony, with arches and columns,
overlooking the river and Camelot, tantalizingly close. This lady
gets to see the world pass by in glorious technicolour. Her room
is brightly lit and full of fresh air. The couple are almost within
reach, and very real, not at all the shady phantoms glimpsed in
the distorted dark mirror in Meteyard's picture.
We can imagine how easy it would be for this lady to glance towards us, to leave her art for the moment and see real life. At any moment, Lancelot will come riding by, full of life, whistling and singing and she will not be able avoid the temptation of such a spectacle. She will turn to look at him and the curse will fall, heralded by the cracking of her mirror and the destruction of her loom and tapestry. She will be doomed to death for daring to take a glimpse at life, for forgetting her work and her duty for an instant.
By choosing to depict the moments before this dramatic climax to the tale, Meteyard and Waterhouse excuse her. We understand why she would want to risk it all for a little life and she has our sympathy. This scene affects us in a completely different way to the sensational climax. We stop and think, contemplating the life she is missing.