KEY FACTS
AUTHORSHIP: Venus and Adonis, The Rape of Lucrece, “Let the Bird of Loudest Lay,” and Shakespeare’s Sonnets are all indisputably by Shakespeare. The Passionate Pilgrim was attributed to him on publication but is a mix of poems by Shakespeare, by others, and of uncertain authorship. “To the Queen” was an epilogue for a court performance by Shakespeare’s company and is wholly Shakespearean in meter and vocabulary. “A Lover’s Complaint” was published with the sonnets and attributed to Shakespeare, but his authorship has often been doubted and a strong case has been made for that of John Davies of Hereford (1565?–1618), an admirer and imitator of Shakespeare. This poem is included, with grave reservations, in order to respect the integrity of the Sonnets volume, just as the whole of The Passionate Pilgrim is included, even though some poems in it are by Richard Barnfield and Bartholomew Griffin. Various other short poems, notably several epigrams and epitaphs, have early attributions to Shakespeare, but none sufficiently secure to merit inclusion.
LINGUISTIC MEDIA: Venus and Adonis is in a six-line stanza rhyming ababaa, Lucrece and “A Lover’s Complaint” in a seven-line stanza rhyming ababbcc (known as “rhyme royal”), both staple meters for poetic romance. Shakespeare’s sonnets, like most other English examples of the period, are shaped as three quatrains and a couplet (typically rhyming ababcdcdefefgg), in contrast to the Petrarchan or Italian structure of an octave and a sestet. “Let the Bird of Loudest Lay” and “To the Queen” are both written in trochaic tetrameters (as is, for example, the Fairies’ song at the end of A Midsummer Night’s Dream).
DATES: Venus and Adonis was published in 1593, The Rape of Lucrece in 1594, The Passionate Pilgrim in late 1598 or 1599 (though it included poems from Love’s Labour’s Lost that were written sometime earlier). “To the Queen” was written for a court performance on 20 February 1599. “Let the Bird of Loudest Lay” was commissioned for a book published in 1601. The date of the sonnets is much disputed: the published volume was registered for publication in May 1609, but the vogue for sonneteering was at its height around the time of the 1592–94 plague closure of the theaters. According to Francis Meres, some of Shakespeare’s “sugared sonnets” were circulating “among his private friends” in manuscript by 1598 (variant manuscript texts exist for several of them). Sonnet 107 apparently alludes to Queen Elizabeth’s death (spring 1603). Analysis of rare words suggests that 1–103 and 127–54 may date from the 1590s, 104–26 from the early 1600s.
SOURCES: Venus and Adonis is based on a story in book 10 of Ovid’s Metamorphoses, with some use of other Ovidian stories such as those of the lovely boys Narcissus (book 3) and Hermaphroditus (book 4). Lucrece derives from book 2 of Ovid’s Fasti and perhaps a translation from Livy’s History in William Painter’s Pallace of Pleasure (1566). “A Lover’s Complaint” is in a long tradition, going back to Ovid’s Heroides, of “complaint” poems written in the voice of women deserted by their lovers; there are many examples in the Mirror for Magistrates (1559), and Samuel Daniel included “A Complaint of Rosamond” as a tailpiece to his sonnet collection Delia (1592). The Sonnets draw on, but also parody, an array of sonneteering conventions in the tradition that goes back to Petrarch; Ovidian interests such as desire and narcissism, time and change, and the durability of poetry are also pervasive.
TEXTS: The well-printed 1593 Quarto of Venus and Adonis was reprinted in 1594, 1595?, 1596, 1599, 1599, 1602?, 1602, 1602, 1617, making it by a considerable margin Shakespeare’s bestseller in print. The well-printed 1594 Quarto of Lucrece was a little less popular but still much in demand (reprinted 1598, 1600, 1600, 1607, 1616). The Passionate Pilgrim appeared in a small Octavo edition (title page lost) sometime after September 1598; a second edition was published in 1599; poems 1 and 2 are versions of sonnets subsequently published in the 1609 collection; the three other definitely Shakespearean poems are from Love’s Labour’s Lost; a reprint of 1612 included additional poems by Thomas Heywood, a practice to which Heywood and apparently Shakespeare objected. “To the Queen” remained in manuscript until 1972. “Let the Bird of Loudest Lay” was included in LOVES MARTYR OR, ROSALINS COMPLAINT. Allegorically shadowing the truth of Loue, in the constant Fate of the Phoenix and Turtle (1601), a verse collection dedicated to Sir John Salusbury, which included work by John Marston, George Chapman, and Ben Jonson appended to a long allegorical poem by the little-known Robert Chester; Shakespeare’s contribution is untitled and only became generally known as “The Phoenix and Turtle” (i.e. turtledove) from 1807. SHAKE-SPEARES SONNETS. Never before Imprinted was published in 1609, with “A Louers complaint. BY WILLIAM SHAKE-SPEARE” filling up the final leaves. Littered with printing errors, it was little noticed upon publication and not reprinted. In 1640, John Benson published a collection of Poems: Written by Wil. Shake-speare. Gent., mainly based on the 1609 volume, but with considerable additions and alterations, including occasional regendering of the addressee from male to female. The sonnets and poems did not enter the tradition of “Complete Works” of Shakespeare until Edmond Malone edited them for his supplement to the 1778 Samuel Johnson/George Steevens edition.
THE SONNETS AND
OTHER POEMS
VENUS AND ADONIS
Vilia miretur vulgus; mihi flavus
Apollo Pocula Castalia plena ministret aqua
TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE HENRY WRIOTHESLEY, EARL OF
SOUTHAMPTON AND BARON OF TITCHFIELD
RIGHT HONOURABLE,
I KNOW not how I shall offend in dedicating my unpolished lines to your lordship, nor how the world will censure me for choosing so strong a prop to support so weak a burden; only if your honour seem but pleased, I account myself highly praised and vow to take advantage of all idle hours, till I have honoured you with some graver labour. But if the first heir of my invention prove deformed, I shall be sorry it had so noble a godfather and never after ear so barren a land, for fear it yield me still so bad a harvest. I leave it to your honourable survey, and your honour to your heart’s content, which I wish may always answer your own wish and the world’s hopeful expectation.
Your honour’s in all duty,
William Shakespeare
EVEN as1 the sun with purple-coloured face
Had ta’en his last leave of the weeping morn,
Rose-cheeked Adonis hied him3 to the chase.
Hunting he loved, but love he laughed to scorn.
Sick-thoughted5 Venus makes amain unto him
And like a bold-faced suitor ’gins to woo him.
‘Thrice-fairer than myself’, thus she began,
‘The field’s chief flower, sweet above compare,
Stain to9 all nymphs, more lovely than a man,
More white and red10 than doves or roses are:
Nature that made thee, with herself at strife,
Saith12 that the world hath ending with thy life.
‘Vouchsafe13, thou wonder, to alight thy steed
And rein his proud14 head to the saddle-bow.
If thou wilt deign this favour, for thy meed15
A thousand honey secrets16 shalt thou know:
Here come and sit, where never serpent hisses,
And being set18, I’ll smother thee with kisses.
‘And yet not cloy thy lips with loathed satiety19,
But rather famish them amid their plenty,
Making them red and pale with fresh variety:
Ten kisses short as one, one long as twenty.
A summer’s day will seem an hour but short,
Being wasted24 in such time-beguiling sport.’
With this she seizeth on his sweating25 palm,
The precedent of pith and livelihood26,
And trembling in her passion, calls it balm27,
Earth’s sovereign28 salve to do a goddess good:
Being so enraged29, desire doth lend her force
Courageously30 to pluck him from his horse.
Over one arm the lusty31 courser’s rein,
Under her othe
r was the tender32 boy,
Who blushed and pouted in a dull disdain,
With leaden34 appetite, unapt to toy,
She red and hot as coals of glowing fire,
He red for shame, but frosty in desire.
The studded37 bridle on a ragged bough
Nimbly she fastens. O, how quick is love!
The steed is stallèd up39, and even now
To tie the rider she begins to prove40:
Backward she pushed him, as she would41 be thrust,
And governed him in strength though not in lust42.
So soon was she along as he was down43,
Each leaning on their elbows and their hips:
Now doth she stroke his cheek, now doth he frown
And ’gins to chide46, but soon she stops his lips
And kissing speaks, with lustful language broken47,
‘If thou wilt chide, thy lips shall never open.’
He burns with bashful shame, she with her tears
Doth quench the maiden50 burning of his cheeks,
Then with her windy sighs and golden hairs
To fan and blow them dry again she seeks.
He saith she is immodest, blames her miss53:
What follows more, she murders with a kiss.
Even as an empty55 eagle, sharp by fast,
Tires56 with her beak on feathers, flesh and bone,
Shaking her wings, devouring all in haste,
Till either gorge58 be stuffed or prey be gone:
Even so she kissed his brow, his cheek, his chin,
And where she ends, she doth anew begin.
Forced to content61, but never to obey,
Panting he lies and breatheth in her face.
She feedeth on the steam, as on a pray63,
And calls it heavenly moisture, air of grace,
Wishing her cheeks were gardens full of flowers,
So they were dewed with such distilling66 showers.
Look, how a bird lies tangled in a net,
So fastened in her arms Adonis lies.
Pure shame and awed69 resistance made him fret,
Which bred more beauty in his angry eyes:
Rain added to a river that is rank71
Perforce72 will force it overflow the bank.
Still she entreats and prettily73 entreats,
For to a pretty ear she tunes her tale.
Still is he sullen, still he lours75 and frets,
’Twixt76 crimson shame and anger ashy-pale:
Being red, she loves him best, and being white,
Her best is bettered with a more delight.
Look how he can79, she cannot choose but love,
And by her fair immortal hand she swears
From his soft bosom never to remove81
Till he take truce with her contending82 tears,
Which long have rained, making her cheeks all wet,
And one sweet kiss shall pay this countless84 debt.
Upon this promise did he raise his chin,
Like a dive-dapper86 peering through a wave,
Who, being looked on, ducks as quickly in:
So offers he to give what she did crave,
But when her lips were ready for his pay,
He winks90 and turns his lips another way.
Never did passenger91 in summer’s heat
More thirst for drink than she for this good turn92.
Her help she sees, but help she cannot get,
She bathes in water94, yet her fire must burn:
‘O, pity,’ ’gan she cry, ‘flint-hearted boy!
’Tis but a kiss I beg, why art thou coy96?
‘I have been wooed, as I entreat thee now,
Even by the stern and direful god of war98,
Whose sinewy99 neck in battle ne’er did bow,
Who conquers where he comes in every jar100,
Yet hath he been my captive and my slave
And begged for that which thou unasked shalt have.
‘Over my altars hath he hung his lance,
His battered shield, his uncontrollèd104 crest,
And for my sake hath learned to sport and dance,
To toy, to wanton, dally105, smile and jest,
Scorning his churlish107 drum and ensign red,
Making my arms108 his field, his tent my bed.
‘Thus he that overruled I overswayed109,
Leading him prisoner in a red rose chain.
Strong-tempered111 steel his stronger strength obeyed,
Yet was he servile to my coy disdain.
O, be not proud, nor brag not of thy might,
For mast’ring her that foiled114 the god of fight.
‘Touch but my lips with those fair lips of thine —
Though mine be not so fair, yet are they red —
The kiss shall be thine own as well as mine.
What see’st thou in the ground? Hold up thy head.
Look in mine eyeballs, there thy beauty lies119,
Then why not lips on lips, since eyes in eyes?
‘Art thou ashamed to kiss? Then wink121 again,
And I will wink, so shall the day seem night.
Love keeps his revels123 where there are but twain:
Be bold124 to play, our sport is not in sight.
These blue-veined125 violets whereon we lean
Never can blab nor know not what we mean.
‘The tender spring127 upon thy tempting lip
Shows thee unripe; yet mayst thou well be tasted.
Make use of time, let not advantage slip,
Beauty within itself should not be wasted.
Fair flowers that are not gathered in their prime
Rot and consume themselves in little time.
‘Were I hard-favoured133, foul or wrinkled-old,
Ill-nurtured134, crooked, churlish, harsh in voice,
O’erworn135, despisèd, rheumatic and cold,
Thick-sighted136, barren, lean and lacking juice,
Then mightst thou pause, for then I were not for thee,
But having no defects, why dost abhor me?
‘Thou canst not see one wrinkle in my brow,
Mine eyes are grey140 and bright and quick in turning:
My beauty as the spring doth yearly grow,
My flesh is soft and plump, my marrow142 burning,
My smooth moist hand, were it with thy hand felt,
Would in thy palm dissolve or seem to melt.
‘Bid me discourse, I will enchant thine ear,
Or like a fairy trip146 upon the green,
Or like a nymph147 with long dishevelled hair
Dance on the sands and yet no footing148 seen.
Love is a spirit149 all compact of fire,
Not gross150 to sink, but light and will aspire.
‘Witness this primrose bank whereon I lie,
These forceless152 flowers like sturdy trees support me:
Two strengthless doves will draw me through the sky
From morn till night, even where I list154 to sport me.
Is love so light155, sweet boy, and may it be
That thou should think it heavy156 unto thee?
‘Is thine own heart to thine own face affected157?
Can thy right hand seize love upon thy left158?
Then woo thyself, be of thyself rejected:
Steal thine own freedom and complain on160 theft.
Narcissus161 so himself himself forsook,
And died to kiss his shadow162 in the brook.
‘Torches are made to light, jewels to wear,
Dainties164 to taste, fresh beauty for the use,
Herbs for their smell and sappy165 plants to bear.
Things growing to themselves are growth’s abuse:
Seeds spring from seeds and beauty breedeth beauty.
Thou wast begot: to get168 it is thy duty.
‘Upon the earth’s increase169 why shouldst thou feed,
Unless the earth with thy increa
se be fed?
By law of nature thou art bound to breed,
That thine172 may live when thou thyself art dead:
And so, in spite of death, thou dost survive,
In that thy likeness still is left alive.’
By this175 the lovesick queen began to sweat,
For where they lay the shadow had forsook them,
And Titan177, tirèd in the midday heat,
With burning eye did hotly178 overlook them,
Wishing Adonis had his team179 to guide,
So he were like him180 and by Venus’ side.
And now Adonis with a lazy sprite181
And with a heavy, dark, disliking182 eye,
His louring brows o’erwhelming his fair sight183
Like misty vapours184 when they blot the sky,
Souring185 his cheeks, cries, ‘Fie, no more of love!
The sun doth burn my face. I must remove.’
‘Ay me,’ quoth Venus, ‘young and so unkind,
What bare188 excuses mak’st thou to be gone!
I’ll sigh celestial breath, whose gentle wind
Shall cool the heat of this descending sun:
I’ll make a shadow for thee of my hairs,
If they burn too, I’ll quench them with my tears.
The Sonnets and Other Poems Page 3
