Sonnet 77
Robert Stonehouse
77
Thy glasse will shew thee how thy beauties were,
Thy dyall how thy pretious mynuits waste,
The vacant leaues thy mindes imprint will beare,
And of this booke,this learning maist thou taste.
The wrinckles which thy glasse will truly show,
Of mouthed graues will giue thee memorie,
Thou by thy dyals shady stealth maist know,
Times theeuish progresse to eternitie.
Looke what thy memorie cannot containe,
Commit to these waste blacks,and thou shalt finde
Those children nurst,deliuerd from thy braine,
To take a new acquaintance of thy minde.
These offices,so oft as thou wilt looke,
Shall profit thee,and much inrich thy booke.
Thy glass will show thee how thy beauties wear,
Thy dial how thy precious minutes waste,
The vacant leaves thy mind's imprint will bear,
And of this book, this learning mayst thou taste:
The wrinkles which thy glass will truly show
Of mouthed graves will give thee memory;
Thou by thy dial's shady stealth mayst know
Time's thievish progress to eternity.
Look what thy memory cannot contain
Commit to these waste blanks, and thou shalt find
Those children nursed, delivered from thy brain,
To take a new acquaintance of thy mind.
These offices, so oft as thou wilt look,
Shall profit thee and much enrich thy book.
--
Robert Stonehouse
To mail me, replace invalid with uk. Inconvenience regretted
Art Neuendorffer
King Lear Act 3, Scene 4
GLOUCESTER Go in with me: my duty cannot suffer
*TO OBEY* in all your daughters' hard commands:
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Antony and Cleopatra Act 5, Scene 2
DOLABELLA Madam, as thereto sworn by your command,
Which my love makes religion *TO OBEY*,
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Venus and Adonis Stanza 10
Forced to content, but nEVER *TO OBEY*,
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Hamlet, Prince of Denmark Act 1, Scene 4
MARCELLUS: Let's follow; 'tis not fit thus *TO OBEY* him.
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The Comedy of Errors Act 2, Scene 1
LUCIANA: Ere I learn love, I'll practise *TO OBEY* .
Act 4, Scene 1
Officer: I do; and charge you in the duke's name *TO OBEY* me.
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The Winter's Tale Act 1, Scene 2
CAMILLO: Swear his thought over
By each particular STAR in heaven and
By all their influences, you may as well
Forbid the sea for *TO OBEY* the moon
As or by oath remove or counsel SHAKE
The fabric of his folly, whose foundation
Is piled upon his faith and will continue
The standing of his body.
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Othello, The Moor of Venice Act 3, Scene 3
IAGO: Witness, you EVER-burning lights above,
You elements that clip us round about,
Witness that here Iago doth give up
The execution of his wit, hands, heart,
To wrong'd Othello's service! Let him command,
And *TO OBEY* shall be in me remorse,
What bloody business EVER.
----------------------------------------------------
Coriolanus Act 5, Scene 3
CORIOLANUS: My mother bows;
As if OLYMPUS to a molehill should
In supplication nod: and my young boy
Hath an aspect of intercession, which
Great nature cries 'Deny not.' let the Volsces
PLOUGH Rome and harrow Italy: I'll nEVER
Be such a gosling *TO OBEY* instinct, but stand,
As if a man were author of himself
And knew no other kin.
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Romeo and Juliet (1597: Quarto 1) Act 2, Scene 4
Ben: Two, two, a shirt and a smocke.
Nur: Peter, pree thee giue me my fan.
Mer: Pree thee doo good Peter, to hide her face:
for her fanne is the fairer of the two.
Nur: God ye good morrow Gentlemen.
Mer: God ye good den faire Gentlewoman.
Nur: Is it godye gooden I pray you.
Mer: TIS no lesse I assure you, for the baudie hand
of the DIALL IS euen NoW vpon the pricke of NOONE.
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*The DIAL TIS NoW For BACon TO Obey*
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Mira. More to know
[D]id *NEUER* medle with my thoughts.
Pros. 'TIS time
[I] should informe thee farther: Lend thy hand
[A]nd plucke my Magick garment from me: So,
[L]ye there my Art: wipe thou thine eyes, haue comfort,
[The] direfull spectacle of the wracke which touch'd
[T]he VERY VERtue of compassion in thee:
[I] haue with such prouision in mine Art
[S]o safely ordered, that there is no soule
[No] not so much perdition as an hayre
betid to any creature in the vessell
[W]hich thou heardst cry, which thou saw'st sinke: Sit
[For] thou must now know farther. [downe,
Mira. You haue often
[B]egun to tell me what I am, but stopt
[A]nd left me to a bootelesse Inquisition,
[Con]cluding, stay: not yet.
Pros. The howr's now come
[T]he very minute byds thee ope thine eare,
[Obey], and be attentiue. Canst thou remember
A time before we came vnto this Cell?
----------------------------------------------
Robert SONEThouse: 77
> [T]hy *GLASSE WILL SHEW* thee how thy beauties were,
> [T]hy *DYALL* how thy pretious mynuits *waste* ,
> [T]he vacant leaues thy mindes imprint will beare,
> *And of this booke,this learning maist thou taste*
> The wrinckles which thy glasse will truly show,
> Of mouthed graues will giue thee memorie,
> Thou by thy dyals shady stealth maist know,
> Times theeuish progresse to eternitie.
> Looke what thy memorie cannot containe,
> Commit to these waste blacks,and thou shalt finde
> [T]hose children nurst,deliuerd from thy braine,
> [T]o take a new acquaintance of thy minde.
> [T]hese offices,so oft as thou wilt looke,
> Shall profit thee,and *much inrich thy booke* .
-----------------------------------------------------------
*that I may passe my Booke*
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Elizabeth wrote:
<<Neither is there a great legal mind at work in the letter
Oxford writes to Robert Cecil in regard to a court ruling
which awarded Oxford the estates of the executed Danvers.
Oxford did not appear in court, he let Cecil handle the
whole matter (Oxford's groveling letter letter of gratitutde
to Cecil tends to indicate that Cecil's knowledge of law
is superior to Oxford's and that's not saying much since
Cecil never practiced law).
Oxford leaves it to the bailiff
and the Queen's lawyer to finish it:
" . .for I am aduised, that I may passe my Booke
from her Magestie, yf a warrant may be procured
to my cosen Bacon and Seriant Harris to perfet yt."
Neuendorffer thinks that "Booke" means Oxford is
handing off the First Folio to his editor Bacon.>>
------------------------------------------------------
ABSOLUTELY!! In fact, Oxford is quite effusive:
"Whiche beinge doone, I know to whome formallye
to thanke, but reallye they shalbe,
and are from me, and myne,
to be *sealed vp* in an *aeternall*
remembrance to yowre selfe."
------------------------------------------------
*ETERNAL* remembrance!!
'Dan Chaucer, well of English undefiled,
On Fame's *ETERNAL* beadroll worthy to be filed.'
-- Spenser: Faërie Queene, book iv. canto ii. 32.
-1-----------------------------------------------------
*DAN* (Brewer Dictionary of Phrase & Fable)
A title of honour, common with the old poets, as Dan Ph'bus,
Dan Cupid, Dan Neptune, Dan Chaucer, etc. (Spanish, don.)
"That old Dan Geffrey, in whose GENTLE spright
The pure well-head of poesie did dwell."
-- Spenser: _Two Cantos of Mutability,_ Cant. VII.
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*ETERNAL* beadroll
.........................................................
A catalogue of persons, for the rest of whose souls
a certain number of prayers are to be said
or counted off on the beads of a chaplet.
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Genesis 49:17 DAN shall be a serpent by the way,
an adder in the path, that biteth the horse heels,
so that his rider shall fall backward.
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<<Florio was [Southampton's] Italian tutor. In 1594 at his Titchfield
residence the Earl entertained his friends Charles & Henry *DAN-VERS*
who were on the run after killing one Henry Long on 4 October in
an interfamily feud. The Earl secreted the two in a lodge in his
park, provided food, spent the night with them, and helped arrange
their flight to France. When the local sheriff came by ferry
to investigate the escape, several of the Earl's servants,
including " *Signior* Florio, an Italian, "
threatened to throw the sheriff overboard.>>
-- _Shakespeare the Man_ by Rowse
------------------------------------------------------------
John Baker wrote:
> Since Stratfordians don't believe the actor traveled or
> had an education, it isn't very likely he could have
> known of Julio Romano's painting of Cupid.
> So when he alludes to it in *Love Labor's Lost*
> (iii, 1, 183) modern editors simply change the text.
-----------------------------------------------------------
Quarto: This *signior* Iunios gyant dwarffe, dan Cupid,
Folio: _ This *signior* Iunios gyant drawfe, don Cupid,
moby: __ This senior-junior, giant-dwarf, Dan Cupid;
-----------------------------------------------------
The Winter's Tale Act 3, Scene 1
DION: when the oracle,
Thus by Apollo's great divine *SEAL'D UP* ,
Shall the contents discoVER, something rare
Even then will rush to knowledge.
Go: fresh horses! And gracious be the issue!
Act 3, Scene 2
Officer: You here shall swear upon this sword of justice,
That you, Cleomenes and Dion, have
Been both at Delphos, and from thence have brought
The *SEAL'D-UP* oracle, by the hand DEliVER'D
Of great Apollo's priest; and that, since then,
You have not dared to break the holy seal
Nor read the SECRETS in't.
--------------------------------------------------------
Twelfth Night Act 5, Scene 1
Priest: A contract of *ETERNAL* bond of love,
Confirm'd by mutual joinder of your hands,
Attested by the holy CLOSE OF LIPS,
Strengthen'd by interchangement of your RINGS;
And all the ceremony of this compact
Seal'd in my function, by my testimony:
Since when, my watch hath told me, toward my grave
I have travell'd but two hours.
------------------------------------------------
Sonnet 18
But thy *ETERNAL* summer shall not fade
Nor lose possession of that fair thou owest;
Nor shall Death brag thou wander'st in his shade,
When in *ETERNAL* lines to time thou growest:
So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,
So long lives this and this gives life to thee.
------------------------------------------------
Sonnet 38
Be thou the tenth Muse, ten times more in worth
Than those old nine which rhymers invocate;
And he that calls on thee, let him bring forth
*ETERNAL* numbers to outlive long date.
If my slight Muse do please these curious days,
The pain be mine, but thine shall be the praise.
--------------------------------------------------
Sonnet 64
When I have seen by Time's fell hand defaced
The rich proud cost of outworn buried age;
When sometime lofty towers I see down-razed
And brass *ETERNAL* slave to mortal rage;
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Sonnet 108
What's in the brain that ink may character
Which hath not figured to thee my true spirit?
What's new to speak, what new to register,
That may express my love or thy dear merit?
Nothing, sweet boy; but yet, like prayers divine,
I must, each day say o'er the very same,
Counting no old thing old, thou mine, I thine,
Even as when first I hallow'd thy fair name.
So that *ETERNAL* love in love's fresh case
Weighs not the dust and injury of age,
Nor gives to necessary wrinkles place,
But makes antiquity for aye his PAGE,
Finding the first conceit of love there bred
Where time and outward form would show it dead.
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King Henry IV, Part ii Act 4, Scene 5
KING HENRY IV: Thou hast SEAL'D UP my expectation:
"Whiche beinge doone, I know to whome formallye
to thanke, but reallye they shalbe,
and are from me, and myne,
to be *sealed vp* in an *aeternall*
remembrance to yowre selfe."
-----------------------------------------------------
<<John Dee wrote in his diary entry for November 25th, 1595:
"the news that Sir Edward TALBOT Kelley was slayne.">>
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King Henry VI, Part i Act 1, Scene 1
Messenger: His soldiers spying his undaunted spirit
A TALBOT! a TALBOT! cried out amain
And rush'd into the bowels of the battle.
Here had the conquest fully been SEAL'D UP,
If Sir John Fastolfe had not play'd the coward:
He, being in the vaward, placed behind
With purpose to relieve and follow them,
Cowardly fled, not having struck one stroke.
Hence grew the general wreck and massacre;
Enclosed were they with their enemies:
A base Walloon, to win the Dauphin's grace,
Thrust TALBOT with a *SPEAR* into the back,
Whom all France with their chief assembled strength
Durst not presume to look once in the face.
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*MERE* , n. [Written also *MAR*] [OE. MERE, AS. MERE, sea;
akin to D. *MEER lake* , OS. meri sea, OHG. meri, mari,
G. MEER, perh. to L. MORI to die, meaning originally,
that which is dead, a WASTE. Cf. {MERMAID},
{MORTal}, {MOOR}.] A pool or lake. --Drayton.
.........................................................
MORTLAKE
2nd December 1603: "John Heminges, one of his Majesty's players
for the pains & expenses of himself & the rest of the company
in coming from MORTLAKE in the county of Surrey unto the court
aforesaid & there presenting before his Majesty one play. £30."
.........................................................
<<William Shakspere's son-in-law John Hall died at New Place on
25 November 1635 and was interred in the chancel. His arms
(three TALBOT heads erased), are impaled with Shakespeare's.>>
_Shakespeare a Life_,p. 398, Park Honan.
"How would it have joyed brave TALBOT (the terror of the French)
to think that after he had lyne two hundred yeares in his TOMBE,
hee should triumphe again on the Stage, and have his bones newe
embalmed with the TEARES of ten thousand spectators at least;"
-- THOMAS NASHe _Pierce Penilesse_(1592)
Then, Passenger, hast nere a TEARE,
To weepe with her that wept with all;
That wept, yet set her self to chere
Them up with comforts cordiall.
Her love shall live, her mercy spread,
When thou hs't ner'e a TEARE to shed. - Susanna Hall epit.
http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/~shakespeare/books/chambers/a...
HEERE RESTETH YE BODY OF THOMAS
NASHE, ESQ. HE *MAR* ELIZABETH, THE
DAVG: & HEIRE OF IOHN HALLE, GENT.
HE DIED APRILL 4. A. 1647, AGED 53.
.................................................
*MERE* , n. [ Written also *MAR* ]
.................................................
HEERE LYETH YE BODY OF IOHN HALL
GENT : HEE *MAR* : SVSANNA YE DAVGH
& coheire
TER OF WILL : SHAKESPEARE, GENT. HEE
DECEASED NOVE. 25 An 1635, AGED 60.
------------------------------------------------------------
Wed. November 25, 1635 Butcher son-in-law John Hall dies
Wed. November 25, 1612 WILL of Elizabeth, Countess of Oxford,
Wed. November 25, 1562 Butcher son-in-law Lope de Vega born
------------------------------------------------------------
King John Act 2, Scene 1
KING PHILIP: Be pleased then
To pay that duty which you TRULY owe
To that owes it, namely this young prince:
And then our arms, like to a muzzled bear,
Save in aspect, hath all offence SEAL'D UP;
Our cannons' malice vainly shall be spent
Against the invulnerable clouds of heaven;
---------------------------------------------------
Love's Labour's Lost Act 3, Scene 1
BIRON: When tongues speak sweetly, then they name her name,
And Rosaline they call her: ask for her;
And to her white hand see thou do commend
This SEAL'D-UP counsel. There's thy guerdon; go.
---------------------------------------------------
Romeo and Juliet Act 5, Scene 2
FRIAR JOHN: Going to find a bare-foot brother out
One of our order, to associate me,
Here in this city visiting the sick,
And finding him, the searchers of the town,
Suspecting that we both were in a house
Where the infectious pestilence did reign,
SEAL'D UP the doors, and would not let us forth;
So that my speed to Mantua there was stay'd.
---------------------------------------------------
Julius Caesar Act 2, Scene 1
LUCIUS The taper burneth in your closet, sir.
Searching the window for a flint, I found
This paper, thus SEAL'D UP; and, I am sure,
It did not lie there when I went to bed.
-----------------------------------------------------
THE ATLANTIC MONTHLY. VOL. II.--AUGUST, 1858.--NO. X.
THE ENGLISH LAUREL, FROM CHAUCER TO TENNYSON.
They in thir time did many a noble dede,
And for their worthines full oft have bore
The crown of laurer leaves on the hede,
As ye may in your olde bookes rede:
And how that he that was a conquerour
Had by laurer alway his most honour.
DAN CHAUCER: _The Flowre and the Leaf_.
I. The MYTHICAL PERIOD,
extending from the supposititious coronation of Laureate
CHAUCER, _in temp. Edv. III., 1367_, to that of Laureate
JONSON, _in temp. Caroli I._ To this period belong,
GEOFFREY CHAUCER, 1367-1400
JOHN SCOGAN, 1400-1413
JOHN KAY, 1465-
ANDREW BERNARD, 1486-
JOHN SKELTON, 1509-1529
EDMUND SPENSER, 1590-1599
SAMUEL DANIEL, }
MICHAEL DRAYTON, } 1600-1630
BEN JONSON, }
Have no faith in those followers of vain traditions who assert the
existence of the Laureate office as early as the thirteenth century,
attached to the court of Henry III. Poets there were before
Chaucer,--_vixere fortes ante Agamemnona_,--but search Rymer from
cord to clasp and you shall find no documentary evidence of any
one of them wearing the leaf or receiving the stipend distinctive
of the place. Morbid credulity can go no farther back than
to the "Father of English Poetry":--
SPENSER: _Faery Queen_ : "That renounced Poet,
Dan Chaucer, well of English undefyled,
On Fame's eternall beadroll worthie to be fyled":
MILTON: _II Penseroso._ "Him that left half-told
The story of Cambuscan bold;
Of Camball, and of Algarsife,
And who had Canace to wife":
WORDSWORTH: _Poems of Later Years_>
"That noble Chaucer, in those former times,
Who first enriched our English with his rhymes,
And was the first of ours that ever broke
Into the Muse's treasures, and first spoke
In mighty numbers."
-----------------------------------------------
Art Neuendorffer
Robert Stonehouse
<ew...@bcs.org.invalid> wrote:
> 77
>Thy glass will show thee how thy beauties wear,
Your mirror will prove to you how your appearance
deteriorates
>Thy dial how thy precious minutes waste,
and your watch, how the minutes of your valuable life run
away.
>The vacant leaves thy mind's imprint will bear,
The empty pages will carry the impression of your mind
>And of this book, this learning mayst thou taste:
And from this blank book, you can derive the following
knowledge.
>The wrinkles which thy glass will truly show
Your mirror will accurately show growing wrinkles which
>Of mouthed graves will give thee memory;
will remind you of the mouths of open graves;
>Thou by thy dial's shady stealth mayst know
from the slow movement of the sun-dial's shadow you can tell
>Time's thievish progress to eternity.
how time, moving on for ever, is stealing your life away.
>Look what thy memory cannot contain
Whatever it may be that is too much to memorise,
>Commit to these waste blanks, and thou shalt find
write it on these empty pages, and you will discover
>Those children nursed, delivered from thy brain,
that when these new offspring are preserved, outside your
own mind,
>To take a new acquaintance of thy mind.
you will get to know them again in a new way.
> These offices, so oft as thou wilt look,
If you do this dutifully, then whenever you read it,
> Shall profit thee and much enrich thy book.
it will be of great benefit to you and increase the value of
your book.
Does this poem accompany the gift of a blank notebook? I
find that conclusion inescapable. Katherine Duncan-Jones
goes through hoops to avoid it, claiming that "the speaker's
capacity for self-denigration may extend to the description
of pages with his own sonnets on them as _vacant_." Twice in
one poem (lines 3 and 10) I fail to believe that. She agrees
that "the youth is to be instructed by his own writings, not
the poet's."
Compare 'thy glass', 'thy dial' with 'this book' (line 4)
which by the end of the poem has become 'thy book'. 'This
book' is offered (that is the speech-act of the poem) and by
line 14 it has been accepted, or its acceptance can be
assumed. A book for writing in is a very appropriate (even
flattering) gift for a writer to give.
Line 1. The last word could be either 'were' or 'wear':
neither the Quarto's spelling nor 16th century pronunciation
decides the point. But a mirror shows how things are (at the
speed of light) and not how they were at some time in the
past. (Compare line 5.) 'Wear' and 'waste' make an example
of Shakespeare's variation: two different words with the
same effect, connected by alliteration.
Line 2. The commentators think the dial must be portable,
even if it is a sun-dial. The mirror would not be portable,
would it? So though I have followed them, I wonder if this
is not a fixed sun-dial in the grounds of the addressee's
house - though one would not know that until line 7.
Line 9, 'look what'. Booth comments on 9.9: "The use of
look-plus-pronoun or adverb to make an indefinite relative
appears to have been reasonably common in the sixteenth and
seventeenth centuries; see OED, 4b. However, this and
Shakespeare's three other uses of the construction in the
sonnets [11.11, 37.13, and 77.9] all occur in contexts of
eyes, looking and appearance and thus have logically
incidental extra pertinence and resonance in the poems where
they appear."
Line 10, 'these waste blanks'. The Quarto prints 'blacks'.
But it is clear enough there is no black on these pages, and
if there were, why should it be plural? If the word had been
written with a twiddle over the A to indicate that it must
be followed by an N, such a thing could easily be missed in
copying and still more in printing. The printer's font does
not seem to have included such a sign.
'Thou shalt find'. This is the language of an experienced
person. Is it going too far to suggest that Shakespeare is
drawing on his own experience as a writer? Has he found
that, when he comes back to his own notes, they take on an
extra meaning that he had not appreciated before?
Line 13, 'offices'. 'Duty' is really too solemn. This is not
the stern daughter of the voice of God. It is not even so
solemn as Cicero, On Duty (de Officiis), known in
Shakespeare's day as "Tully's Offices". It is the
acquisition of a regular habit for one's own benefit.
Sweetie Cat
Robert Stonehouse wrote:
> 77
>
> Thy glasse will shew thee how thy beauties were,
> Thy dyall how thy pretious mynuits waste,
A play on "midnights"? That gives the line a sexual connotation.
Regards,
Lynne
Gary Kosinsky
<ew...@bcs.org.invalid> wrote:
SNIP
The speaker also says:
Those children nursed, delivered from THY brain,
It certainly sounds like the addressee has been given a blank
notebook for his thoughts.
- Gary Kosinsky
Robert Stonehouse
<lynnek...@sympatico.ca> wrote:
>Robert Stonehouse wrote:
>> 77
>>
>> Thy glasse will shew thee how thy beauties were,
>> Thy dyall how thy pretious mynuits waste,
>
>A play on "midnights"? That gives the line a sexual connotation.
Why exactly? Is there only one time of day when people do
sexual things? Or is midnight a time when they do nothing
else?
Paul Crowley
news:a8fll1117upbo3gut...@4ax.com...
> On 22 Oct 2005 09:52:47 -0700, "Sweetie Cat"
> <lynnek...@sympatico.ca> wrote:
> >Robert Stonehouse wrote:
> >> 77
> >>
> >> Thy glasse will shew thee how thy beauties were,
> >> Thy dyall how thy pretious mynuits waste,
> >
> >A play on "midnights"? That gives the line a sexual connotation.
>
> Why exactly? Is there only one time of day when people do
> sexual things? Or is midnight a time when they do nothing
> else?
Lynne's 'idea' is silly -- an off-the-cuff
remark with zero thought. Agreed, that
puts it on about the same level as most
commentaries on the sonnets, but it's not
worth discussion. Her 'sense' cannot
be linked to the adjective 'precious'.
The poet commonly plays on 'minute' in
OED senses 4 and 5: 'Something small'.
(I don't think that the particular spelling
-- 'mynuit' -- here is important.)
4. A coin of trifling value; a 'mite'. Obsolete.
1589 J. Rider Bibl. Schol., A Minute or Q, which is halfe a farthing, minutum.
5. Something minute or small. Obsolete
1598 Florio, Pesciolini, all manner of minutes, frye, or small fishes.
1626 B. Jonson Staple of N. i. v. 138
Let me heare from thee euery minute of Newes.
In each case (including this one) the poet
is referring to courtiers, especially those
of low-class origin and, in particular,
Raleigh.
Sonnet 14
1. Not from the stars do I my judgement plucke,
2. And yet me thinkes I have Astronomy,
3. But not to tell of good, or evil lucke,
4. Of plagues, of dearths, or seasons quallity,
5. Nor can I fortune to breefe mynuits tell;
6. Pointing to each his thunder, raine and winde,
Sonnet 126
5. If Nature (soveraine misteres over wrack)
6. As thou goest onwards still will plucke thee backe,
7. She keepes thee to this purpose, that her skill.
8. May time disgrace, and wretched mynuit kill.
Sonnet 60
1. Like as the waves make towards the pibled shore,
2. So do our minuites hasten to their end,
3. Each changing place with that which goes before,
4. In sequent toile all forwards do contend.
Sonnet 77
1. Thy glasse will shew thee how thy beauties were,
2. Thy dyall how thy pretious mynuits waste,
Interestingly, 'precious' has retained the
same duality of meaning from Chaucer
and Lydgate to today.
'Precious' (OED)
3. Aiming at or affecting distinction or choiceness in conduct,
manners, language, etc.; fastidious, 'particular'; esp. in mod. use
(after F. précieux: cf. précieuse), affecting, displaying, or using
careful and fastidious delicacy or refinement in language,
workmanship, etc.; often with an implication of being over-nice
or over-refined.
4. colloq. a. As an intensive of something bad, worthless, or
reprobated: Egregious, out-and-out, arrant; in some uses, a mere
emotional intensive. (Cf. fine a. 14b.)
b. Ironically, Of little worth, worthless, good-for-nothing. (Cf. fine a. 12c.)
Rita
Could it have been written for a friendship book? At
http://www.tabulatura.com/Elbing2.htm an article on Dowland mentions
contemporary friendship books. Dowland contributed a brief entry to
the liber amicorum of a Prussian visitor called Hans von Bodeck, but
more interestingly (to me), the article goes on to quote the following
verses Thomas Campion wrote for the same book:
"Thy fair youth fram'd for delight,
Fitt to slepe in bedds of flowers,
To thy thirstye watchful spright
Stricktly measures all thine howres;
And thy ages steward playes
To enrich thy elder dayes.
Fruitful to thy native soile,
Joyful to thy home-borne frends,
Through the peril, and the toyle,
Which both sea and land attends,
Mayst thou safe arrived be,
Myndful of thy love and me."
Does this sound a little like the sentiments in sonnet 77? I mean
insofar as there's an implication that compiling this book will be of
long-term benefit to the possessor, though of course in the sonnet
there's no mention of a journey. And it does sound as if Shakespeare
expects the book's owner to be the one writing in it, rather than
anyone else.
- Rita
Sweetie Cat
Robert Stonehouse wrote:
> On 22 Oct 2005 09:52:47 -0700, "Sweetie Cat"
> <lynnek...@sympatico.ca> wrote:
> >Robert Stonehouse wrote:
> >> 77
> >>
> >> Thy glasse will shew thee how thy beauties were,
> >> Thy dyall how thy pretious mynuits waste,
> >
> >A play on "midnights"? That gives the line a sexual connotation.
>
> Why exactly? Is there only one time of day when people do
> sexual things? Or is midnight a time when they do nothing
> else?
I just wrote a reply, but lost it. So I'll write a shorter one.
People burn oil of course, but to suggest that the addressee is wasting
his midnights and can see that by looking at his dial (could this also
refer to his own face?) suggests, when taking into account other sexual
and sometimes masturbatory lines in earlier sonnets, that he's a bit
dissipated.
L.
BCD
Robert Stonehouse wrote:
> 77
> [...]
> Thou by thy dial's shady stealth mayst know
> Time's thievish progress to eternity.
***Vis-à-vis the discussion of 74's "The coward's conquest of a
wretch's knife"--Time/Age/Mortality as a surreptitious knifer, in my
opinion--it's interesting to note Time continuing his felonious
sneaking ways here in 77.
Best Wishes,
--BCD
Web Site: http://www.csulb.edu/~odinthor
Visit unknown Los Angeles: http://www.csulb.edu/~odinthor/socal1.html
Peter Farey
"BCD" wrote:
>
> ***Vis-à-vis the discussion of 74's "The coward's conquest
> of a wretch's knife"--Time/Age/Mortality as a surreptitious
> knifer, in my opinion--
Please. Time and Age use a knife to carve the signs of age
on people's faces, or to cut the memory of those faces from
people's hearts. The glass and the dial show the unremitting
progress *towards* death. Death and Time use a scythe or a
sickle to bring people's lives to an end. As far as I know,
Mortality is implement-free.
> it's interesting to note Time continuing his felonious
> sneaking ways here in 77.
Why? Is there the slightest suggestion either here (or any-
where else in the whole of Renaissance literature) that Age
or Time were ever portrayed as *killing* people with their
knives?
Peter F.
pet...@rey.prestel.co.uk
http://www2.prestel.co.uk/rey/index.htm
Sweetie Cat
Sonnet 63, surely, Peter:
For ſuch a time do I now fortifie
Againſt confounding Ages cruell knife,
That he ſhall neuer cut from memory
My ſweet loues beauty,though my louers life.
Regards,
L.
Paul Crowley
news:1130090851.2...@g47g2000cwa.googlegroups.com...
> Peter Farey wrote:
> > > it's interesting to note Time continuing his felonious
> > > sneaking ways here in 77.
> >
> > Why? Is there the slightest suggestion either here (or any-
> > where else in the whole of Renaissance literature) that Age
> > or Time were ever portrayed as *killing* people with their
> > knives?
>
> Sonnet 63, surely, Peter:
1. Against my love shall be as I am now
2. With times injurious hand chrusht and ore-worne,
3. When houres have dreind his blood and fild his brow
4. With lines and wrincles, when his youthfull morne
5. Hath travaild on to Ages steepie night,
6. And all those beauties whereof now he's King
7. Are vanishing, or vanisht out of sight,
8. Stealing away the treasure of his Spring.
9. For such a time do I now fortifie
10. Against confounding Ages cruell knife,
11. That he shall never cut from memory
12. My sweet loves beauty, though my lovers life.
13. His beautie shall in these blacke lines be seene,
14. And they shall live, and he in them still greene.
You've forgotten my discovery as regards line 10.
(You probably found it 'too Oxfordian")
10. Against confoundin' gages cruell knife,
I saw the play in line 3 on 'times' = 'mites'
where it outdoubtedly refers to Raleigh
('injurious hand' is confirmation). I did not
remark on the same play in line 9, where
it would apply to his new-born infant son
(about whom the sonnet is written).
---------------- A re-post: ----------------
The poet needs to be armed against immediate
threats to his life. Anne Vavasour's Howard
relatives became extremely angry when they
learnt of her pregnancy (as did the Queen) and
Oxford had been physically threatened. He fears
their 'knife', with a particular bearing on that of
Sir Thomas Knyvett, a privy councillor -- and a
relation of Anne Vavasour) -- who later did, in
fact, dangerously wound Oxford, in a fight in
1583. Further, his name derives from 'knife',
and the Knyvett escutcheon bears an emblem
of three knives. ("Azure, three knives argent,
hafted gules.")
> 10. Against confounding Ages cruel knife,
'Confounding' was a much stronger word
around 1600, meaning 'destroying'. The poet
is playing on:
'confounding Ages' = 'confoundin gages'
This refers to a 'gage' or a 'challenge' addressed
to him by Thomas Vavasour. The author did not
date it, and in Burghley's files some unknown
archivist has written '19 January 1585' which is
IMO almost certainly wrong, as it belongs to
this period. It is endorsed 'A lewd letter from
Vavasor to the Earl of Oxford':
Paul.
Peter Farey
Lynne Kositsky wrote:
>
> Peter Farey wrote:
> >
> > "BCD" wrote:
> > >
> > > ***Vis-à-vis the discussion of 74's "The coward's conquest
> > > of a wretch's knife"--Time/Age/Mortality as a surreptitious
> > > knifer, in my opinion--
> >
> > Please. Time and Age use a knife to carve the signs of age
> > on people's faces, or to cut the memory of those faces from
> > people's hearts. The glass and the dial show the unremitting
> > progress *towards* death. Death and Time use a scythe or a
> > sickle to bring people's lives to an end. As far as I know,
> > Mortality is implement-free.
> >
> > > it's interesting to note Time continuing his felonious
> > > sneaking ways here in 77.
> >
> > Why? Is there the slightest suggestion either here (or any-
> > where else in the whole of Renaissance literature) that Age
> > or Time were ever portrayed as *killing* people with their
> > knives?
>
> Sonnet 63, surely, Peter:
>
> Against confounding Ages cruell knife,
> That he shall neuer cut from memory
> My sweet loues beauty,though my louers life.
No, Lynne. Sonnet 63 is saying that whereas with these black
lines he can fortify himself against the cruel knife which
cuts from memory his sweet love's beauty, he cannot fortify
himself against Age (not the knife) cutting off his lover's
life. The tool Age uses for this job is not specified.
Sweetie Cat
I'm sorry, Peter, I don't see it.
9. For such a time do I now fortifie
10. Against confounding Ages cruell knife,
11. That he shall never cut from memory
12. My sweet loves beauty, though [he cut off] my lovers life.
Surely "Confounding Age" with his cruel knife cuts off his lover's
life, though that same "Age" cannot cut the lover from memory because
of the poet's writings. It seems quite clear to me that the knife of
"Age" would be used to kill him. And this clarifies for me "The coward
conquest of a wretch's knife" in 74, which I wrestled with, albeit
quietly, for some time. The poet doesn't necessarily expect to be
murdered, except by "Age" and "Death."
Regards,
Lynne
Peter Farey
Lynne Kositsky wrote:
>
> Peter Farey wrote:
> >
> > >
> > > Sonnet 63, surely, Peter:
> > >
> > > For such a time do I now fortifie
> > > Against confounding Ages cruell knife,
> > > That he shall neuer cut from memory
> > > My sweet loues beauty,though my louers life.
>
> > No, Lynne. Sonnet 63 is saying that whereas with these black
> > lines he can fortify himself against the cruel knife which
> > cuts from memory his sweet love's beauty, he cannot fortify
> > himself against Age (not the knife) cutting off his lover's
> > life. The tool Age uses for this job is not specified.
>
> I'm sorry, Peter, I don't see it.
>
> 9. For such a time do I now fortifie
> 10. Against confounding Ages cruell knife,
> 11. That he shall never cut from memory
> 12. My sweet loves beauty, though [he cut off] my lovers life.
>
> Surely "Confounding Age" with his cruel knife cuts off his
> lover's life, though that same "Age" cannot cut the lover
> from memory because of the poet's writings.
He is fortifying himself against confounding Age's cruel
knife. Is he fortifying himself against what Age will do
to his lover's *life*? No, he quite clearly isn't. What
do you think the words "though my lover's life" mean? It
is something he is *not* able to fortify himself against.
And since he *is* able to fortify himself against Age's
cruel knife, this *cannot* be the implement that Age will
use to kill him.
It says that "he" shall never "cut from memory / My sweet
loues beauty". If he had meant that Age would use the knife
to do *both* tasks, he would have said that "it" (i.e. the
knife) "shall never shall neuer cut from memory / My sweet
loues beauty, though my louers life".
> It seems quite clear to me that the knife of "Age" would
> be used to kill him.
Where I went wrong in my initial challenge was to ask "Is
there the slightest suggestion that Age or Time were ever
portrayed as *killing* people with their knives?". Of course
there must be many occasions where one might claim "the
slightest suggestion" of this. What I was really asking for,
but worded badly, was any occasion at all when it is "quite
clear...that the knife of "Age" [was] used to kill" someone.
And I'm sorry, but in this case it is not only very far from
clear, but completely contradicted by the words themselves.
> And this clarifies for me "The coward conquest of a wretch's
> knife" in 74, which I wrestled with, albeit quietly, for
> some time. The poet doesn't necessarily expect to be
> murdered, except by "Age" and "Death."
And how does his calling Age "a wretch" fit in with any
other occasion that Shakespeare has used that word? That
'knife' is only one of your problems!
Bianca Steele
> Lynne Kositsky wrote:
> >
> > Peter Farey wrote:
> > >
> > > Lynne Kositsky wrote:
> > > >
> > > > Sonnet 63, surely, Peter:
> > > >
> > > > For such a time do I now fortifie
> > > > Against confounding Ages cruell knife,
> > > > That he shall neuer cut from memory
> > > > My sweet loues beauty,though my louers life.
> >
> > > No, Lynne. Sonnet 63 is saying that whereas with these black
> > > lines he can fortify himself against the cruel knife which
> > > cuts from memory his sweet love's beauty, he cannot fortify
> > > himself against Age (not the knife) cutting off his lover's
> > > life. The tool Age uses for this job is not specified.
> >
> > I'm sorry, Peter, I don't see it.
> >
> > 9. For such a time do I now fortifie
> > 10. Against confounding Ages cruell knife,
> > 11. That he shall never cut from memory
> > 12. My sweet loves beauty, though [he cut off] my lovers life.
> >
> > Surely "Confounding Age" with his cruel knife cuts off his
> > lover's life, though that same "Age" cannot cut the lover
> > from memory because of the poet's writings.
>
> He is fortifying himself against confounding Age's cruel
> knife.
Just some free-association here: *How* is he fortifying himself against
Age's cruel knife? By writing poetry? Isn't that a bit ineffective
(to say the least)? Age's cruel knife is going to keep on scything no
matter how much poetry he writes (I can't remember the discussion over
whether this is a scythe or not). The world could fill up with his
poetry and Age's cruel knife will still be scything. Maybe the paper
will stop the blade. Age himself is not going to read the poem and
decide to stop using the knife, and nothing he instructs his readers
about concerning Age and the knife will help the readers stop Age
either.
Again free-associating: I think it's kind of funny that HLAS
participants keep coming back over and over again to this really rather
boring question of the knife.
----
Bianca Steele
Paul Crowley
news:djj060$ok0$1$8300...@news.demon.co.uk...
> > 9. For such a time do I now fortifie
> > 10. Against confounding Ages cruell knife,
> > 11. That he shall never cut from memory
> > 12. My sweet loves beauty, though [he cut off] my lovers life.
> Where I went wrong in my initial challenge was to ask "Is
> there the slightest suggestion that Age or Time were ever
> portrayed as *killing* people with their knives?". Of course
> there must be many occasions where one might claim "the
> slightest suggestion" of this. What I was really asking for,
> but worded badly, was any occasion at all when it is "quite
> clear...that the knife of "Age" [was] used to kill" someone.
> And I'm sorry, but in this case it is not only very far from
> clear, but completely contradicted by the words themselves.
Sure. You are right. 'Age' does not go
around with a knife killing people with
violence. It does it slowly; but even if
it sometimes does the job unpleasantly,
knives have no place in its operations.
So we have to ask why does the poet use
such a strange phrase? One _might_ say
that he's implying that THIS confounding
Age tends to employ a lot of knives (as
someone might say the age of the 20th
century employed a lot of guns). But
that is pushing the interpretation a bit
too far, and it could only be present as a
relatively minor meaning.
I have put in my own contribution -- to
the usual zero response -- which provides
a fairly complete explanation.
> > And this clarifies for me "The coward conquest of a wretch's
> > knife" in 74, which I wrestled with, albeit quietly, for
> > some time. The poet doesn't necessarily expect to be
> > murdered, except by "Age" and "Death."
>
> And how does his calling Age "a wretch" fit in with any
> other occasion that Shakespeare has used that word? That
> 'knife' is only one of your problems!
While not answering for Lynne (I would
not dare!) it is likely that a 'confounding
age' will be full of cowardly knife-wielding
assassins (or wretches). We know that
the Elizabethan one was, and that the poet
regarded it as 'confounding'.
Paul.
Robert Stonehouse
Reproducing the ealier paraphrase (exactly, to show there is
positively no deception whatever, though maybe it could be
better expressed for the present purpose):
>For such a time do I now fortify
in preparation for a time like that I am now building a
fortification
>Against confounding age's cruel knife
to defend him from the savage attack of destroying age
>That he shall never cut from memory
and stop time killing off the remembrance of
>My sweet love's beauty, though my lover's life. 12
my dear friend's fine appearance, although it brings his
life to an end.
> His beauties shall in these black lines be seen
His finest points will be visible in poetry, in black ink,
> And they shall live, and he in them still green.
and those lines will survive and show him green and fresh.
>
>Just some free-association here: *How* is he fortifying himself against
>Age's cruel knife? By writing poetry? Isn't that a bit ineffective
>(to say the least)?
No, it's good for the beauty in memory, though it does not
apply to the life. So the addressee will die, but his beauty
will live on because it is made famous in poetry. That last
has been a big theme in the sonnets from 18 on:
"So long as men can breathe or eyes shall see
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee."
(Life here is not the literal life of sonnet 63: in 63 the
poet separates the life in fame from bodily life.)
>Age's cruel knife is going to keep on scything no
>matter how much poetry he writes (I can't remember the discussion over
>whether this is a scythe or not). The world could fill up with his
>poetry and Age's cruel knife will still be scything. Maybe the paper
>will stop the blade. Age himself is not going to read the poem and
>decide to stop using the knife, and nothing he instructs his readers
>about concerning Age and the knife will help the readers stop Age
>either.
>
>Again free-associating: I think it's kind of funny that HLAS
>participants keep coming back over and over again to this really rather
>boring question of the knife.
...
>>Is he fortifying himself against what Age will do
>> to his lover's *life*? No, he quite clearly isn't. What
>> do you think the words "though my lover's life" mean? It
>> is something he is *not* able to fortify himself against.
>> And since he *is* able to fortify himself against Age's
>> cruel knife, this *cannot* be the implement that Age will
>> use to kill him.
In one respect he can build a fortification. He can preserve
fame in poetry although (in the other respect) poetry cannot
preserve the literal life. Age's knife can destroy the
literal life, but it cannot destroy the fame that lives on
with the poet's aid. Is there a problem?
>> It says that "he" shall never "cut from memory / My sweet
>> loues beauty". If he had meant that Age would use the knife
>> to do *both* tasks, he would have said that "it" (i.e. the
>> knife) "shall never shall neuer cut from memory / My sweet
>> loues beauty, though my louers life".
Age's knife can handle the one task but not the other.
>> > It seems quite clear to me that the knife of "Age" would
>> > be used to kill him.
>>
>> Where I went wrong in my initial challenge was to ask "Is
>> there the slightest suggestion that Age or Time were ever
>> portrayed as *killing* people with their knives?". Of course
>> there must be many occasions where one might claim "the
>> slightest suggestion" of this. What I was really asking for,
>> but worded badly, was any occasion at all when it is "quite
>> clear...that the knife of "Age" [was] used to kill" someone.
>> And I'm sorry, but in this case it is not only very far from
>> clear, but completely contradicted by the words themselves.
The words say that? They say explicitly that Age's knife
cannot take away the beauty from memory, but it can take
away the life.
>> > And this clarifies for me "The coward conquest of a wretch's
>> > knife" in 74, which I wrestled with, albeit quietly, for
>> > some time. The poet doesn't necessarily expect to be
>> > murdered, except by "Age" and "Death."
>>
>> And how does his calling Age "a wretch" fit in with any
>> other occasion that Shakespeare has used that word? That
>> 'knife' is only one of your problems!
--
Bianca Steele
>For such a time do I now fortify
> in preparation for a time like that I am now building a
> fortification
> >Against confounding age's cruel knife
> to defend him from the savage attack of destroying age
> >That he shall never cut from memory
> and stop time killing off the remembrance of
> >My sweet love's beauty, though my lover's life. 12
> my dear friend's fine appearance, although it brings his
> life to an end.
>
> > His beauties shall in these black lines be seen
> His finest points will be visible in poetry, in black ink,
> > And they shall live, and he in them still green.
> and those lines will survive and show him green and fresh.
>>
>> Just some free-association here: *How* is he fortifying himself against
>> Age's cruel knife? By writing poetry? Isn't that a bit ineffective
>> (to say the least)?
> No, it's good for the beauty in memory, though it does not
> apply to the life. So the addressee will die, but his beauty
> will live on because it is made famous in poetry. That last
> has been a big theme in the sonnets from 18 on:
> "So long as men can breathe or eyes shall see
> So long lives this, and this gives life to thee."
> (Life here is not the literal life of sonnet 63: in 63 the
> poet separates the life in fame from bodily life.)
I think if I understand this, here, in your reading, the poet is
creating more and more new poetry, because it will and should live
forever and preserve the beauty that would otherwise perish. Supposing
the opposite, the poet might cease writing or might shred his
manuscripts, and in this case, the addressee of the now-nonexistent
poems will disappear having left no trace in memory nor any impact on
the world. But this is clearly not what the poet wants because writing
all these poems would be (to say the least) a counterproductive way of
telling people that the addressee's beauty should not be preserved. He
expects his poetry to have an effect on the way people remember the
addressee, a pretty specific effect.
[...]
> In one respect he can build a fortification. He can preserve
> fame in poetry although (in the other respect) poetry cannot
> preserve the literal life. Age's knife can destroy the
> literal life, but it cannot destroy the fame that lives on
> with the poet's aid. Is there a problem?
Well, a fortification holds things in and other things out, and makes
it more difficult to get from one side of the walls to the other (may
also include weapons against those attacking from the outside, etc.).
How does poetry accomplish something similar? I don't think
Shakespeare has an answer to this question. Primarily, he seems to be
borrowing from the classics, though I suppose it's possible he had in
mind a way of understanding the words of the classics in what he felt
to be Christian terms, whatever his beliefs as a Christian were.
However, he says very nearly nothing that could specify what those
particular beliefs or understandings were. As readers, we might
suppose him to believe what a man similar to him today would be
supposed to believe, and I can only suppose, then, that he's talking
about the eternal life promised to Christians after death. But he
seems to be talking about something in this world even if he's using
terms appropriate to religion, and his poetry can hardly be needed to
help preserve anyone's soul that should have been preserved anyway.
[...]
> Age's knife can handle the one task but not the other.
Poetry will prevent the one effect but not the other, surely? Poetry
seems to be intended to modify the way the world would normally work.
[...]
> The words say that? They say explicitly that Age's knife
> cannot take away the beauty from memory, but it can take
> away the life.
Am I reading you wrong? I'm not very confident of my sonnet readings.
It seems to come out that Shakespeare is blasphemously trying to
preserve what should die. Or is he explaining the opposite, that
somebody else is blasphemously confusing what should live and what
should perish, and that he is writing poems to try to change that --
that he is using his writing to restore what ought to be? We're
certainly preserving his poetry by reading it.
[...]
----
Bianca Steele
Robert Stonehouse
What made Shakespeare write poetry? I would not venture to
say, except perhaps that poetry was in his nature. But
having written poetry he can claim 'This makes you immortal'
without making any claim that that was his object from the
start.
>Supposing
>the opposite, the poet might cease writing or might shred his
>manuscripts, and in this case, the addressee of the now-nonexistent
>poems will disappear having left no trace in memory nor any impact on
>the world.
Yes, I think that's right - as far as it goes.
> But this is clearly not what the poet wants because writing
>all these poems would be (to say the least) a counterproductive way of
>telling people that the addressee's beauty should not be preserved. He
>expects his poetry to have an effect on the way people remember the
>addressee, a pretty specific effect.
Yes, I see no problem in that.
>[...]
>> In one respect he can build a fortification. He can preserve
>> fame in poetry although (in the other respect) poetry cannot
>> preserve the literal life. Age's knife can destroy the
>> literal life, but it cannot destroy the fame that lives on
>> with the poet's aid. Is there a problem?
>
>Well, a fortification holds things in and other things out, and makes
>it more difficult to get from one side of the walls to the other (may
>also include weapons against those attacking from the outside, etc.).
A fortification could be two-way, but in practice
fortifications are carefully designed to be defended from
one side and attacked from the other. (I am not precise
about which side because of the possibility of lines of
circumvallation.) So a fireproof door generally has a bolt
that is impenetrable from the outside but easily opened with
a crash-bar from the inside.
>How does poetry accomplish something similar? I don't think
>Shakespeare has an answer to this question.
Why not? This comes as near as anything Shakepseare says to
a commonplace. People die in seventy years (or a little
more) but writing on paper can go on for ever, in successive
copies. The everlasting nature of fragile paper, versus the
lasting qualities of solid flesh, makes a paradox well known
before Shakespeare.
>Primarily, he seems to be
>borrowing from the classics, though I suppose it's possible he had in
>mind a way of understanding the words of the classics in what he felt
>to be Christian terms, whatever his beliefs as a Christian were.
1. Reading the Sonnets (three times over ten years) I am
convinced that Shakespeare had a good deal of classical
knowledge, but deliberately avoided writing classically
influenced poetry. The contrast with Sidney (in particular)
is marked. Every week, Sidney forces me to go to the Oxford
Classical Dictionary and Graves's Greek Myths. Shakespeare,
hardly ever.
2. On the other hand, his writing is strongly influenced by
the Prayer Book. There is a common assumption nowadays that
he was a crypto Papist. Sonnet 52 is enough to reduce that
assumption to rubble. On the other hand, he was not a
particulary religious man. He uses imagery from religion,
but really devout thought is extremely rare, rare enough to
be always conventional. He is no George Herbert. Try Herbert
to prove it!
>However, he says very nearly nothing that could specify what those
>particular beliefs or understandings were. As readers, we might
>suppose him to believe what a man similar to him today would be
>supposed to believe, and I can only suppose, then, that he's talking
>about the eternal life promised to Christians after death. But he
>seems to be talking about something in this world even if he's using
>terms appropriate to religion, and his poetry can hardly be needed to
>help preserve anyone's soul that should have been preserved anyway.
He is not preserving anyone's soul. He is preserving their
earthly life through fame, or in the early sonnets through
descendants.
>[...]
>> Age's knife can handle the one task but not the other.
>
>Poetry will prevent the one effect but not the other, surely? Poetry
>seems to be intended to modify the way the world would normally work.
Yes, this is just the other side of the coin. In the battle,
time versus poetry, time can kill the body but poetry can
save the fame.
>[...]
>> The words say that? They say explicitly that Age's knife
>> cannot take away the beauty from memory, but it can take
>> away the life.
>
>Am I reading you wrong? I'm not very confident of my sonnet readings.
>It seems to come out that Shakespeare is blasphemously trying to
>preserve what should die. Or is he explaining the opposite, that
>somebody else is blasphemously confusing what should live and what
>should perish, and that he is writing poems to try to change that --
>that he is using his writing to restore what ought to be? We're
>certainly preserving his poetry by reading it.
Exactly. That is why frail paper outlasts solid flesh. But
this poem isn't about blasphemy, or competing to outdo some
other technique in blasphemy. It is not blasphemous to say
that someone's name lives on. Why should it be? There is a
Naval toast to 'The Immortal Memory'.
...
Peter Farey
Robert Stonehouse wrote:
>
> "Bianca Steele" wrote:
> >
> > Peter Farey wrote (re Sonnet 63):
> > >
> > > He is fortifying himself against confounding Age's cruel
> > > knife.
>
Knives don't "scythe". Only scythes do.
> > no matter how much poetry he writes (I can't remember the
> > discussion over whether this is a scythe or not). The
> > world could fill up with his poetry and Age's cruel knife
> > will still be scything. Maybe the paper will stop the
> > blade. Age himself is not going to read the poem and
> > decide to stop using the knife, and nothing he instructs
> > his readers about concerning Age and the knife will help
> > the readers stop Age either.
> >
> > Again free-associating: I think it's kind of funny that
> > HLAS participants keep coming back over and over again to
> > this really rather boring question of the knife.
It's a question of whether or not Sonnet 63 does, as is claimed,
offer support for the idea that Sonnet 74's "Coward conquest of
a wretch's knife" could possibly be referring to Death/Time/
Age/Mortality etc. This is considered important because, if it
doesn't (and if no other support can be found) then it is hard
to make sense of that line unless it was written by Marlowe.
> ...
>
> > > Is he fortifying himself against what Age will do
> > > to his lover's *life*? No, he quite clearly isn't. What
> > > do you think the words "though my lover's life" mean? It
> > > is something he is *not* able to fortify himself against.
> > > And since he *is* able to fortify himself against Age's
> > > cruel knife, this *cannot* be the implement that Age will
> > > use to kill him.
>
> In one respect he can build a fortification. He can preserve
> fame in poetry although (in the other respect) poetry cannot
> preserve the literal life. Age's knife can destroy the
> literal life, but it cannot destroy the fame that lives on
> with the poet's aid. Is there a problem?
Only in that it does not say that Age would use the knife to
"destroy the literal life".
> > > It says that "he" shall never "cut from memory / My sweet
> > > loues beauty". If he had meant that Age would use the knife
> > > to do *both* tasks, he would have said that "it" (i.e. the
> > > knife) "shall never shall neuer cut from memory / My sweet
> > > loues beauty, though my louers life".
>
> Age's knife can handle the one task but not the other.
Precisely. A different tool is traditionally used for that.
> > > > It seems quite clear to me that the knife of "Age" would
> > > > be used to kill him.
> > >
> > > Where I went wrong in my initial challenge was to ask "Is
> > > there the slightest suggestion that Age or Time were ever
> > > portrayed as *killing* people with their knives?". Of course
> > > there must be many occasions where one might claim "the
> > > slightest suggestion" of this. What I was really asking for,
> > > but worded badly, was any occasion at all when it is "quite
> > > clear...that the knife of "Age" [was] used to kill" someone.
> > > And I'm sorry, but in this case it is not only very far from
> > > clear, but completely contradicted by the words themselves.
>
> The words say that? They say explicitly that Age's knife
> cannot take away the beauty from memory, but it can take
> away the life.
No, it does not say explicitly that "it" (Age's knife) can take
away the life. It says explicitly that "he" (Age) can, but does
not say that he would necessarily use the same implement to do
so. The obvious assumption, I think, is that (if an implement is
assumed to be used at all) this would be with a scythe or sickle,
as usual.
Paul Crowley
> On 25 Oct 2005 09:36:04 -0700, "Bianca Steele"
> <bianca...@yahoo.com> wrote:
> What made Shakespeare write poetry? I would not venture to
> say, except perhaps that poetry was in his nature.
Much too facile and too shallow. Why is
such poetry not in the nature of every
person? Or every 10th person? Or every
10 millionth person? Even if it was the
latter, we'd have many thousand
Shakespeares.
Any theory about Shakespeare that does
not attempt to encompass this problem is
not worthy of consideration.
> >Supposing
> >the opposite, the poet might cease writing or might shred his
> >manuscripts, and in this case, the addressee of the now-nonexistent
> >poems will disappear having left no trace in memory nor any impact on
> >the world.
>
> Yes, I think that's right - as far as it goes.
Nope. Quite wrong. When Lynne first appeared
here, the following exchange occurred:
---------- From my post to HLAS 12 Oct 2003 ------
Lynne Kositsky wrote
> Now, to take it one step further, why would he need to
> tell the Queen that he was going to make her famous?
> She already was.
Lynne's point here will ring true with
Stratfordians.
It provides the basis of an excellent test for
the two theories of the sonnets:
(a) 'Fair Youth', and
(b) 'Queen Elizabeth'.
IF the Fair Youth theory is true then the
sonnets will unquestionably show what
Lynne and Stratfordians think that they
show -- promises of fame and immortality
which the Fair Youth would not otherwise
get -- and that's the end of the 'Queen
Elizabeth' theory.
But IF the poet is always careful in his
wording (in each sonnet) to avoid making
that most obvious of implications then
the opposite applies.
The 'Fair Youth' theory is at an end.
The Queen Elizabeth one prevails.
OK?
Does anyone have any problems
with that?
---------- End of quote from 12 Oct 2003 ------
Of course, all I saw at the time in response
were the usual clean pairs of heels.
> > But this is clearly not what the poet wants because writing
> >all these poems would be (to say the least) a counterproductive way of
> >telling people that the addressee's beauty should not be preserved. He
> >expects his poetry to have an effect on the way people remember the
> >addressee, a pretty specific effect.
>
> Yes, I see no problem in that.
If we don't know who the addressee is,
then there's big problem.
Paul.
Robert Stonehouse
<Peter...@prst17z1.demon.co.uk> wrote:
>Robert Stonehouse wrote:
>> "Bianca Steele" wrote:
>> > Peter Farey wrote (re Sonnet 63):
>> The words say that? They say explicitly that Age's knife
>> cannot take away the beauty from memory, but it can take
>> away the life.
>
>No, it does not say explicitly that "it" (Age's knife) can take
>away the life. It says explicitly that "he" (Age) can, but does
>not say that he would necessarily use the same implement to do
>so. The obvious assumption, I think, is that (if an implement is
>assumed to be used at all) this would be with a scythe or sickle,
>as usual.
Lines 11-12 read:
That he shall never cut from memory
My sweet love's beauty, though my lover's life.
The last four words do not include a verb and so one has to
be supplied (together with a subject for that verb). No
problem: we supply 'He shall cut' from the previous line,
without the 'never' because the adversative conjunction
'though' negatives it. That gives:
That he shall never cut from memory
My sweet love's beauty, though [he shall cut] my lover's
life.
Is there any doubt about that? It will be hard to find
another verb plausibly, when there is one given in the
previous line, in the previous part of the same sentence.
Then, if the first (unsuccessful) cutting is done with Age's
knife (and if it is not, then Age's knife is a mere
irrelevance that should not have been brought in at all) is
it at all plausible to say the second (successful) one is
done with something completely different?
If there was a second explicit 'he shall cut', it might be
possible to argue that the two cuts were separated. But when
the second verb is understood from the first, doesn't it
make that hard to maintain?
Peter Farey
Robert Stonehouse wrote:
>
> Peter Farey wrote:
> >
> > Robert Stonehouse wrote:
> > >
> > > "Bianca Steele" wrote:
> > > >
> > > > Peter Farey wrote (re Sonnet 63):
> ...
> > > The words say that? They say explicitly that Age's knife
> > > cannot take away the beauty from memory, but it can take
> > > away the life.
> >
> > No, it does not say explicitly that "it" (Age's knife) can take
> > away the life. It says explicitly that "he" (Age) can, but does
> > not say that he would necessarily use the same implement to do
> > so. The obvious assumption, I think, is that (if an implement is
> > assumed to be used at all) this would be with a scythe or sickle,
> > as usual.
>
> Lines 11-12 read:
> That he shall never cut from memory
> My sweet love's beauty, though my lover's life.
Indeed they do. They do not read:
That *it* shall never cut from memory
My sweet love's beauty, though my lover's life.
which would certainly have destroyed my case!
> The last four words do not include a verb and so one has to
> be supplied (together with a subject for that verb). No
> problem: we supply 'He shall cut' from the previous line,
> without the 'never' because the adversative conjunction
> 'though' negatives it. That gives:
> That he shall never cut from memory
> My sweet love's beauty, though [he shall cut] my lover's
> life.
>
> Is there any doubt about that? It will be hard to find
> another verb plausibly, when there is one given in the
> previous line, in the previous part of the same sentence.
No, I'm right there with you so far.
> Then, if the first (unsuccessful) cutting is done with
> Age's knife
It is.
> (and if it is not, then Age's knife is a mere irrelevance
> that should not have been brought in at all) is it at all
> plausible to say the second (successful) one is done with
> something completely different?
Certainly it is. We are at liberty to decide whether it is
the aforementioned knife, a scythe as usual, or even nothing
in particular (like being 'cut down in one's prime') which
has lost any real association with the original implement.
For me, however, the point is that in this case he *is* able
to fortify against the cruel knife. Therefore he can prevent
whatever it is that the knife would have done. But as this
does not include polishing off his lover, he is unable to
prevent that happening.
> If there was a second explicit 'he shall cut', it might be
> possible to argue that the two cuts were separated. But when
> the second verb is understood from the first, doesn't it
> make that hard to maintain?
I don't think so. But in any case this far from being clear
enough for it to provide the sure example of the use of a knife
by Death/Time/Age/Mortality that would justify the assumption
that this is what "The coward conquest of a wretch's knife"
refers to. Is there really no better one that can be found?
("And he said as he hastened to put out the cat,
The wine, his cigar and the lamps...") :o)
Robert Stonehouse
<slkwuoiut...@slkjlskjoioue.com> wrote:
>"Robert Stonehouse" <ew...@bcs.org.invalid> wrote in message
>news:q6ssl1dq2b4lr9fhr...@4ax.com...
>> On 25 Oct 2005 09:36:04 -0700, "Bianca Steele"
>> <bianca...@yahoo.com> wrote:
>> What made Shakespeare write poetry? I would not venture to
>> say, except perhaps that poetry was in his nature.
>
>Much too facile and too shallow. Why is
>such poetry not in the nature of every
>person? Or every 10th person? Or every
>10 millionth person? Even if it was the
>latter, we'd have many thousand
>Shakespeares.
>
>Any theory about Shakespeare that does
>not attempt to encompass this problem is
>not worthy of consideration.
There have been thousands of poets. Some of them have quoted
this as their reason for writing. The question was: what
made Shakespeare write? It was not: what made him a poet of
this special eminence?
>> >Supposing
>> >the opposite, the poet might cease writing or might shred his
>> >manuscripts, and in this case, the addressee of the now-nonexistent
>> >poems will disappear having left no trace in memory nor any impact on
>> >the world.
>>
>> Yes, I think that's right - as far as it goes.
>
>Nope. Quite wrong. When Lynne first appeared
>here, the following exchange occurred:
>
>---------- From my post to HLAS 12 Oct 2003 ------
>
>Lynne Kositsky wrote
>> Now, to take it one step further, why would he need to
>> tell the Queen that he was going to make her famous?
>> She already was.
>
>Lynne's point here will ring true with
>Stratfordians.
Not really. Such people are famous in their own day, but if
they die unrecorded, their fame dies with them.
Vixere fortes ante Agamemnona
multi; sed omnes illacrimabiles
urgentur ignotique longa
nocte, carent quia vate sacro.
(Horace, Odes 4.9.25ff.)
Brave men lived before Agamemnon
Many; but all unwept
and unknown are overwhelmed by the long
night, because they have no sacred bard.
>It provides the basis of an excellent test for
>the two theories of the sonnets:
>(a) 'Fair Youth', and
>(b) 'Queen Elizabeth'.
>
>IF the Fair Youth theory is true then the
>sonnets will unquestionably show what
>Lynne and Stratfordians think that they
>show -- promises of fame and immortality
>which the Fair Youth would not otherwise
>get -- and that's the end of the 'Queen
>Elizabeth' theory.
It doesn't take all that to end the 'Queen Elizabeth'
theory. That theory never stood up in the first place.
>But IF the poet is always careful in his
>wording (in each sonnet) to avoid making
>that most obvious of implications then
>the opposite applies.
>
>The 'Fair Youth' theory is at an end.
>The Queen Elizabeth one prevails.
>
>OK?
>
>Does anyone have any problems
>with that?
Why should there be only two possibilities? If we can go
this far afield, there might be dozens.
>---------- End of quote from 12 Oct 2003 ------
>
>Of course, all I saw at the time in response
>were the usual clean pairs of heels.
>
>> > But this is clearly not what the poet wants because writing
>> >all these poems would be (to say the least) a counterproductive way of
>> >telling people that the addressee's beauty should not be preserved. He
>> >expects his poetry to have an effect on the way people remember the
>> >addressee, a pretty specific effect.
>>
>> Yes, I see no problem in that.
>
>If we don't know who the addressee is,
>then there's big problem.
That is a different problem, one no theory has yet solved,
except in a highly speculative way. My own speculation is
that the addressee was asked for permission to dedicate the
published sonnets, and refused it.
Gary Kosinsky
know?
The addressee has been given a blank book in which to record
his thoughts. The book is possibly from the speaker.
One word description of the poem: Book.
Sonnet sub-group: ?
***************************************************
The story so far:
So after seventy-seven sonnets, what do we know?
The addressee or referent of the first seventy-seven
sonnets is probably the same person (although it has been
speculated that perhaps the speaker of the first seventeen
poems is different). At any rate, we are assuming that the
same person is the addressee of these sonnets.
We still don't know what the relationship is between
the speaker and the addressee. It is clearly an intense,
emotional relationship. Whether it is sexual is uncertain.
The speaker says the addressee is physically
attractive. The description of that beauty is in terms that
would seem more suitable to a woman than a man. (1 - 7, 9,
13, 17-19, especially 20, 41, 54)
The speaker says that the addressee is narcissistic.
(1 - 4, 6)
The speaker may be chiding the addressee's sexual
habits. (1 - 4, 6, 9, 40 - 42, 58, 61, 69)
The speaker suggests that, while they may acknowledge the
addressee's physical good looks, some unnamed others have a critical
opinion of some aspect of the addressee's character, morals and/or
behaviour. (69) However, the speaker defends the addressee against
this criticism/slander (70).
The addressee is male. (3, 9, 16, 19-20, 26, 33,
39, 41, 63, 67 - 68)
The speaker is male. (20, 32)
The addressee is of marriageable age, meaning (I
think) that he would be in the 17 - 26 age range. (1 - 4, 6,
8 - 13, 16, 17)
The speaker is older than the addressee. (62 - 63)
The speaker is old. (73)
The speaker claims he has no interest in sexual
relations with the addressee. (20)
The addressee is sexually interested in women. (41)
The speaker is sexually interested in women. (41)
Women are sexually attracted to the addressee. (3, 16, 20,
41,)
The speaker has a wife or mistress. (40 - 42).
A snag appears in the relationship between the
speaker and addressee. (33, 34)
The snag that appeared in the relationship between
the speaker and addressee seems to concern something that
the addressee did to the speaker which caused the speaker
shame. The addressee, however, is contrite, and the speaker
has forgiven him. (34)
While it's not certain, the snag that appeared in
the relationship between the speaker and the addressee
probably concerns a love stolen from the speaker by the
addressee. (35)
It seems that the addressee *has* stolen a lover
from the speaker (40 - 42), but the speaker forgives him.
(40, 42)
The speaker expresses concern that he might lose the
affections/attention of the addressee. (48)
The speaker has a very humble opinion of himself, and is
prepared to excuse almost any behaviour of the addressee (35, 49,
57-58).
It's still uncertain what class the speaker and addressee
belong to. Some have argued that Sonnet 25 indicates that the speaker
is not a member of the nobility, while others argue that it indicates
that he is a member of the nobility. Some readers have also suggested
that certain words and phrases used in the sonnets indicate that the
addressee is of noble birth. (37, 40)
The speaker's life involved travel that took him
away from the addressee. Possibly, the travel involved
service for the addressee. (27 - 28, 39, 43 - 45, 47, 50 - 51, 61)
By the time of Sonnet 52, whenever it is, the speaker
doesn't seem to be seeing the addressee very often. (52).
Note that we still don't know where the speaker or
the addressee live.
There seems to have been a lull in the speaker/addressee's
emotional relationship. (56)
The speaker has a picture of the addressee which he enjoys
looking at. (47)
The speaker is preoccupied at night by images of the
addressee. (27 - 28, 43, 61)
The poet says he is in disgrace for some reason, and
that he is a self-described outcast of some sort, and that
he feels sorry for himself and envious of others, a feeling
that is dispelled when he thinks of his relationship with
the addressee. (29)
For some reason, the speaker thinks that the
addressee will be dishonoured by publicly associating with
the speaker. (36, 71 - 72)
The speaker tells us that his sad memories are
dispelled when he thinks of the addressee. (30)
The speaker's feelings for the addressee are so strong that
they leave the speaker tongue-tied about those feelings in the
presence of the addressee. (23)
The speaker expresses humility about his ability to
express, in writing, his feelings for the addressee. (26,
32)
The speaker says that he is poor, despised and,
possibly, physically disabled. (37)
The speaker distinguishes himself from "the rich". (52)
However, while the speaker says he is poor in Sonnet 37, he
then says, in Sonnet 48, that he owns jewels. (48)
The speaker so identifies with the addressee, that
any and all of the speaker's faults and shortcomings are
resolved in the positive attributes of the addressee. (37, 62)
The speaker says he sees, in the addressee, the
embodiment of former deceased loves. (31)
The speaker says all good things are but shadows of the
addressee. (53)
The speaker says the addressee has a pleasant
speaking voice and enjoys listening to sad music. (8)
The speaker says the addressee has a gracious and
kind presence. (10)
The speaker seems to think that the addressee has
some sort of love for the speaker. (10, 25, 34, 36, 39, 41, 61, 73)
The speaker seems to have some sort of affectionate
feelings for the addressee, calling him such things as
"love", "dear my love", "master-mistress of my passion", "Lord of my
love" & "sweet love". (13, 19, 20-33, 40, 54, 57-58, 66, 76)
The speaker seems to have believed in a religious theory of
the resurrection of the dead. (55)
The speaker is an aesthetic snob. (11)
The speaker may believe in astrology. (15)
The speaker rides a horse. (50 - 51)
The speaker, at least at times, was disillusioned with his
world. (66 - 68)
The addressee has been given a blank book in which to record
his thoughts. The book is possibly from the speaker. (77)
The speaker initially thinks that having children is
a better method than a painting or a poem for the addressee
to preserve himself. (16, 17) However, the speaker comes to
say that he can preserve the beauty of the addressee in his
poetry (18 - 19, 54 -55, 60, 63 - 65).
The speaker believes he can preserve the best part of himself
in his writings. (74)
The speaker, having posed a problem for the
addressee, is offering a solution to that problem - namely
that the addressee should have children - specifically, a
son. (1-14, 16, 17). (But let's remember that it's only the
speaker's assertion that beautiful people have some sort of
obligation to the world to propagate or preserve their
beauty.)
While seeming to chastise the addressee for his
narcissistic failure to preserve or propagate his beauty,
the speaker is, at the same time, acknowledging that beauty,
and so is flattering the addressee.
Sonnet groupings (a tentative listing of the sonnets
read so far and how they might be grouped):
Get married, young man: 1 - 14, 16 - 17.
Forever young: 15, 18 - 19, 54 - 55, 60, 63 - 65.
You are so beautiful: 20 - 21, 53, 59.
We two are one: 22, 25, 37, 39, 62, 73 - 74.
Words fail me: 23, 26, 32.
You're in my heart: 24, 46 - 48.
Dreamin' of you: 27 - 28, 43, 61.
Can't stop thinkin' 'bout you: 29 - 30, 44 - 45, 50 - 52, 75 - 76.
You done me wrong: 33 - 34, 40 - 42.
Anything you do is alright with me: 35, 42, 49, 57 - 58.
I am unworthy: 36, 71 - 72.
You're my soul and inspiration: 38.
What's a nice person like you doin' in a place like this?: 66 - 70.
? - 31, 56, 77.
One word descriptions of the sonnets:
01) Introduction; 02) Siege; 03) Mirror; 04) Usury; 05) Perfume;
06) Money-lending; 07) Sun; 08) Music; 09) Widow; 10) Self-hate;
11) Snob; 12) Breed; 13) Endless; 14) Astrology;
15) Transience; 16) Lines; 17) Memorial; 18) Summer;
19) Permanence; 20) Pricked; 21) True; 22) Hearts;
23) Tongue-tied; 24) Eyes; 25) Constancy; 26) Humility;
27) Travel; 28) Exhausted; 29) Fulfillment; 30) Remembrance;
31) Reincarnation; 32) Modesty; 33) Stained; 34) Disgrace;
35) Thief; 36) Blots; 37) Transference; 38) Muse;
39) Separation; 40) Theft; 41) False; 42) Loss; 43) Bright;
44) Thought;45) Elements; 46) Dispute; 47) Amity; 48) Guard;
49) Justify; 50) Weary; 51) Return; 52) Rare; 53) Shadows;
54) Distill; 55) Forever; 56) Lull; 57) Slave; 58) Slavery;
59) Unique; 60) Time; 61) Nightmare; 62) Identification;
63) Preservation; 64) Inevitability; 65) Possibility;
66) Disillusioned; 67) Memento; 68) Souvenir; 69) Weeds;
70) Target; 71) Forget; 72) Nameless; 73) Soon; 74) Essence;
75) Dilemma; 76) Repetition; 77) Book;
- Gary Kosinsky
Robert Stonehouse
<Peter...@prst17z1.demon.co.uk> wrote:
>Robert Stonehouse wrote:
>> Peter Farey wrote:
>> > Robert Stonehouse wrote:
>> > > "Bianca Steele" wrote:
>> > > > Peter Farey wrote (re Sonnet 63):
>> ...
...
>> Then, if the first (unsuccessful) cutting is done with
>> Age's knife
>
>It is.
>
>> (and if it is not, then Age's knife is a mere irrelevance
>> that should not have been brought in at all) is it at all
>> plausible to say the second (successful) one is done with
>> something completely different?
>
>Certainly it is. We are at liberty to decide whether it is
>the aforementioned knife, a scythe as usual, or even nothing
>in particular (like being 'cut down in one's prime') which
>has lost any real association with the original implement.
We seem to be irreconcilable on this point! I just don't see
room for such a liberty.
>
>For me, however, the point is that in this case he *is* able
>to fortify against the cruel knife. Therefore he can prevent
>whatever it is that the knife would have done. But as this
>does not include polishing off his lover, he is unable to
>prevent that happening.
The idea that 'I fortify against Age's knife' is qualified
by 'That he shall never cut from memory / My sweet love's
beauty'. That is, I build a protection against Age's knife
that will stop him killing my love's fame - though it cannot
stop him killing the life.
The reason I cannot stop him killing the life has nothing to
do with his weapon's being a knife or any other particular
one. It is just that, life being what it is, it cannot be
indefinitely protected - because it is life, not because of
what kind of thing is attacking it.
>> If there was a second explicit 'he shall cut', it might be
>> possible to argue that the two cuts were separated. But when
>> the second verb is understood from the first, doesn't it
>> make that hard to maintain?
>
>I don't think so. But in any case this far from being clear
>enough for it to provide the sure example of the use of a knife
>by Death/Time/Age/Mortality that would justify the assumption
>that this is what "The coward conquest of a wretch's knife"
>refers to. Is there really no better one that can be found?
The word 'knife' appears in 63 and in 74, but only by
coincidence surely? Not as a reference from one to the
other.
>
> ("And he said as he hastened to put out the cat,
> The wine, his cigar and the lamps...") :o)
--
bobgr...@nut-n-but.net
> > say, except perhaps that poetry was in his nature.
>
> Much too facile and too shallow. Why is
> such poetry not in the nature of every
> person?
I have never understood this point of view. It's like asking why every
person isn't eight feet tall. Someone has to have the best
poetry-creating genes of his generation, or of his century.
Shakespeare may have been the one with the best of his century.
> Or every 10th person? Or every
> 10 millionth person? Even if it was the
> latter, we'd have many thousand
> Shakespeares.
We've had a few hundred who were more or less his equal as writers.
Just as we've a few hundred who were more or less Archimedes's equal as
scientists, a few hundred who were more or less Rembrandt's equal as
painters, and so forth.
While wasting time repeating stuff to you, Paul, I might as well ask a
question I've been wondering about. Where does the queen fit into
Romeo and Juliet? Another: where does she fit into A MIdsummer Night's
Dream?
--Bob G.
Paul Crowley
> >> What made Shakespeare write poetry? I would not venture to
> >> say, except perhaps that poetry was in his nature.
> >
> >Much too facile and too shallow. Why is
> >such poetry not in the nature of every
> >person? Or every 10th person? Or every
> >10 millionth person? Even if it was the
> >latter, we'd have many thousand
> >Shakespeares.
> >
> >Any theory about Shakespeare that does
> >not attempt to encompass this problem is
> >not worthy of consideration.
>
> There have been thousands of poets. Some of them have quoted
> this as their reason for writing. The question was: what
> made Shakespeare write? It was not: what made him a poet of
> this special eminence?
The questions cannot be separated. When
we see a weak poet, we do not bother to ask
'what made him write poetry?' (except perhaps
ironically). The answers are often only too
painfully obvious. Are you inclined to ask
such a question of the author of this verse?
"Good frend for Jesus sake forbeare,
To digg the dust encloased heare:
Bleste be the man who spares thes stones
And curst be he who moves my bones."
> >> >Supposing
> >> >the opposite, the poet might cease writing or might shred his
> >> >manuscripts, and in this case, the addressee of the now-nonexistent
> >> >poems will disappear having left no trace in memory nor any impact on
> >> >the world.
> >>
> >> Yes, I think that's right - as far as it goes.
> >
> >Nope. Quite wrong. When Lynne first appeared
> >here, the following exchange occurred:
> >
> >---------- From my post to HLAS 12 Oct 2003 ------
> >
> >Lynne Kositsky wrote
> >> Now, to take it one step further, why would he need to
> >> tell the Queen that he was going to make her famous?
> >> She already was.
> >
> >Lynne's point here will ring true with
> >Stratfordians.
>
> Not really. Such people are famous in their own day, but if
> they die unrecorded, their fame dies with them.
What you say CAN be true -- if we are
talking at large. But here we are talking
about the Sonnets. Our poet never
promised what you and Lynne think he
promised -- eternal fame, against a
background where the alternative was
obscurity.
[..]
> It doesn't take all that to end the 'Queen Elizabeth'
> theory. That theory never stood up in the first place.
I provide more data, week by week.
Never contradicted. No attempt is
even made to indicate its falsity.
> >But IF the poet is always careful in his
> >wording (in each sonnet) to avoid making
> >that most obvious of implications then
> >the opposite applies.
> >
> >The 'Fair Youth' theory is at an end.
> >The Queen Elizabeth one prevails.
> Why should there be only two possibilities? If we can go
> this far afield, there might be dozens.
It's a yes/no test. Given the context,
there are only two possibilities.
> >> > But this is clearly not what the poet wants because writing
> >> >all these poems would be (to say the least) a counterproductive way of
> >> >telling people that the addressee's beauty should not be preserved. He
> >> >expects his poetry to have an effect on the way people remember the
> >> >addressee, a pretty specific effect.
> >>
> >> Yes, I see no problem in that.
> >
> >If we don't know who the addressee is,
> >then there's big problem.
>
> That is a different problem, one no theory has yet solved,
> except in a highly speculative way. My own speculation is
> that the addressee was asked for permission to dedicate the
> published sonnets, and refused it.
That is not a theory which works.
The coy attitude to the identity of the
addressee is consistent throughout,
and a clear identification in, say, a
dedication, would be wholly at odds
with it and with the dominant tone.
Paul.
Paul Crowley
news:1130496461....@g44g2000cwa.googlegroups.com...
> > > What made Shakespeare write poetry? I would not venture to
> > > say, except perhaps that poetry was in his nature.
> >
> > Much too facile and too shallow. Why is
> > such poetry not in the nature of every
> > person?
>
> I have never understood this point of view. It's like asking why every
> person isn't eight feet tall.
A particularly poor example. Some people
do reach exceptional heights, and there are
reasons. Often it's a defect in the mechanism
controlling the growth hormone. Sometimes
it's a chromosomal defect -- as in Lincoln's
case, called 'Marfan Syndrome' AFAIR.
> Someone has to have the best
> poetry-creating genes of his generation, or of his century.
Only a near-total idiot would suggest that
poetry-creation comes (even largely) from
genes. If it was true, then Eton School and
Oxford University would have had more
genes than the whole of North America.
> Shakespeare may have been the one with the best of his century.
Stratfordianism is responsible for idiocy
of this nature.
> > Or every 10th person? Or every
> > 10 millionth person? Even if it was the
> > latter, we'd have many thousand
> > Shakespeares.
>
> We've had a few hundred who were more or less his equal as writers.
Such as?
> While wasting time repeating stuff to you, Paul, I might as well ask a
> question I've been wondering about. Where does the queen fit into
> Romeo and Juliet?
She does not have to be in everything.
Romeo (the hero = the author) mentions
his 'Rosaline' early on. That person is
obviously the Queen.
> Another: where does she fit into A MIdsummer Night's
> Dream?
You've not been paying attention to recent
posts. She's Titania -- the Fairy Queen who
falls in love with an ass (i.e. Nick Bottom,
the horny-handed man of Athens, with a
high-pitched voice, who loved to perform
all roles; IOW Raleigh.)
Paul.
Peter Farey
1 2 3 4 5 6 7
Robert Stonehouse wrote:
>
> Peter Farey wrote:
> >
> > Robert Stonehouse wrote:
> > >
> > > Then, if the first (unsuccessful) cutting is done with
> > > Age's knife
> >
> > It is.
> >
> > > (and if it is not, then Age's knife is a mere irrelevance
> > > that should not have been brought in at all) is it at all
> > > plausible to say the second (successful) one is done with
> > > something completely different?
> >
> > Certainly it is. We are at liberty to decide whether it is
> > the aforementioned knife, a scythe as usual, or even nothing
> > in particular (like being 'cut down in one's prime') which
> > has lost any real association with the original implement.
>
> We seem to be irreconcilable on this point! I just don't see
> room for such a liberty.
If it does not *say* which weapon is used, then surely the only
thing we *can* do is to infer which one, if any, is meant. Where
does your certainty come from?
> > For me, however, the point is that in this case he *is* able
> > to fortify against the cruel knife. Therefore he can prevent
> > whatever it is that the knife would have done. But as this
> > does not include polishing off his lover, he is unable to
> > prevent that happening.
>
> The idea that 'I fortify against Age's knife' is qualified
> by 'That he shall never cut from memory / My sweet love's
> beauty'. That is, I build a protection against Age's knife
> that will stop him killing my love's fame - though it cannot
> stop him killing the life.
This is true. But where does it say that he will use the knife
to do it?
> The reason I cannot stop him killing the life has nothing to
> do with his weapon's being a knife or any other particular
> one. It is just that, life being what it is, it cannot be
> indefinitely protected - because it is life, not because of
> what kind of thing is attacking it.
This is a point upon which we already agree absolutely.
> > > If there was a second explicit 'he shall cut', it might be
> > > possible to argue that the two cuts were separated. But when
> > > the second verb is understood from the first, doesn't it
> > > make that hard to maintain?
> >
> > I don't think so. But in any case this far from being clear
> > enough for it to provide the sure example of the use of a knife
> > by Death/Time/Age/Mortality that would justify the assumption
> > that this is what "The coward conquest of a wretch's knife"
> > refers to. Is there really no better one that can be found?
>
> The word 'knife' appears in 63 and in 74, but only by
> coincidence surely? Not as a reference from one to the
> other.
Absolutely. And Sonnet 63 should not be used as a demonstration
(as Booth, Kerrigan, BCD and LynnE would have it) that such a
knife was being referred to in Sonnets 74's "The coward conquest
of a wretch's knife". We do seem to agree, I think.
Robert Stonehouse
<slkwuoiut...@slkjlskjoioue.com> wrote:
>"Robert Stonehouse" <ew...@bcs.org.invalid> wrote in message
>news:brr0m1hbgp3pp9mhn...@4ax.com...
>> >> What made Shakespeare write poetry? I would not venture to
>> >> say, except perhaps that poetry was in his nature.
>> >
>> >Much too facile and too shallow. Why is
>> >such poetry not in the nature of every
>> >person? Or every 10th person? Or every
>> >10 millionth person? Even if it was the
>> >latter, we'd have many thousand
>> >Shakespeares.
>> >
>> >Any theory about Shakespeare that does
>> >not attempt to encompass this problem is
>> >not worthy of consideration.
>>
>> There have been thousands of poets. Some of them have quoted
>> this as their reason for writing. The question was: what
>> made Shakespeare write? It was not: what made him a poet of
>> this special eminence?
>
>The questions cannot be separated.
Yes they can. I've just done it. (So has Bob Grumman.)
>When
>we see a weak poet, we do not bother to ask
>'what made him write poetry?' (except perhaps
>ironically). The answers are often only too
>painfully obvious.
What we might bother to ask has nothing to do with whether
two questions are the same question or not. These two are
not.
Additionally, there are not just two kinds of poet,
Shakespeare and weak. There are poets in between who
reasonably expect us to take an interest:
"Why did I write? What sin, to me unknown,
Dipped me in ink, my parents' or my own?
As yet a child, nor yet a fool to fame
I lisped in numbers, for the numbers came."
...
>What you say CAN be true -- if we are
>talking at large. But here we are talking
>about the Sonnets. Our poet never
>promised what you and Lynne think he
>promised -- eternal fame, against a
>background where the alternative was
>obscurity.
I do not see how that can be said.
...
>> That is a different problem, one no theory has yet solved,
>> except in a highly speculative way. My own speculation is
>> that the addressee was asked for permission to dedicate the
>> published sonnets, and refused it.
>
>That is not a theory which works.
>The coy attitude to the identity of the
>addressee is consistent throughout,
>and a clear identification in, say, a
>dedication, would be wholly at odds
>with it and with the dominant tone.
The sonnets are not 'coy'.
I agree that the addressee's name does not appear anywhere
in the book, or if you prefer it that way, ANYWHERE!!!
But poems that did not actually contain a name could still
be tied in by an explicit dedication. On the other hand,
maybe at one time some of the poems did contain a name and
it has been edited out by the poet: a little crafty
rewriting could do it. Not that I claim to know.
Robert Stonehouse
<Peter...@prst17z1.demon.co.uk> wrote:
>Robert Stonehouse wrote:
>> Peter Farey wrote:
>> > Robert Stonehouse wrote:
>> The idea that 'I fortify against Age's knife' is qualified
>> by 'That he shall never cut from memory / My sweet love's
>> beauty'. That is, I build a protection against Age's knife
>> that will stop him killing my love's fame - though it cannot
>> stop him killing the life.
>
>This is true. But where does it say that he will use the knife
>to do it?
When we put together llines 10 and 11. With the knife in
line 10, what else can we think Age is cutting with in line
11? And when the cutting is understood again in line 12, are
we to think he has now dropped the knife and taken up
something else?
...
>> > > If there was a second explicit 'he shall cut', it might be
>> > > possible to argue that the two cuts were separated. But when
>> > > the second verb is understood from the first, doesn't it
>> > > make that hard to maintain?
>> >
>> > I don't think so. But in any case this far from being clear
>> > enough for it to provide the sure example of the use of a knife
>> > by Death/Time/Age/Mortality that would justify the assumption
>> > that this is what "The coward conquest of a wretch's knife"
>> > refers to. Is there really no better one that can be found?
>>
>> The word 'knife' appears in 63 and in 74, but only by
>> coincidence surely? Not as a reference from one to the
>> other.
>
>Absolutely. And Sonnet 63 should not be used as a demonstration
>(as Booth, Kerrigan, BCD and LynnE would have it) that such a
>knife was being referred to in Sonnets 74's "The coward conquest
>of a wretch's knife". We do seem to agree, I think.
It isn't the same knife necessarily. It's any old knife, in
both cases. If that is agreement, it's something of a
relief!
Paul Crowley
> >> >> What made Shakespeare write poetry? I would not venture to
> >> >> say, except perhaps that poetry was in his nature.
> >> There have been thousands of poets. Some of them have quoted
> >> this as their reason for writing. The question was: what
> >> made Shakespeare write? It was not: what made him a poet of
> >> this special eminence?
> >
> >The questions cannot be separated.
>
> Yes they can. I've just done it. (So has Bob Grumman.)
An implied term in my statement was 'sensibly'.
The questions cannot sensibly be separated.
Do the following sound sensible?
What made Beethoven compose music? I would
not venture to say, except perhaps that composing
music was in his nature.
What made Titian paint? I would not venture to say,
except perhaps that painting was in his nature.
What made Michelangelo sculpt? I would not venture
to say, except perhaps that sculpture was in his nature.
What made Michelangelo paint? I would not venture
to say, except perhaps that painting was in his nature.
What made Michelangelo build? I would not venture
to say, except perhaps that building was in his nature.
> >When
> >we see a weak poet, we do not bother to ask
> >'what made him write poetry?' (except perhaps
> >ironically). The answers are often only too
> >painfully obvious.
>
> What we might bother to ask has nothing to do with whether
> two questions are the same question or not. These two are
> not.
The reason we would not bother is that it
would be a waste of time. Such a question
is pointless. You can, of course, separate
the questions -- but only if you don't mind
producing garbage.
> ...
> >What you say CAN be true -- if we are
> >talking at large. But here we are talking
> >about the Sonnets. Our poet never
> >promised what you and Lynne think he
> >promised -- eternal fame, against a
> >background where the alternative was
> >obscurity.
>
> I do not see how that can be said.
It is easy, and I have given you the test.
Does our poet, in each case, promise what
you and Lynne think he promised (eternal
fame, against a background where the
alternative was obscurity) . . ? Or does he,
in each of the few dozen cases in the sonnets,
somehow skip around the natural form of
wording that you and she expect?
If so (and it is so) then could such repeated
instances have arisen (in the totality of all
those cases) purely by chance?
It is not hard to estimate the probabilities
involved. Estimate it for one, and then
multiply up.
> ...
> >> That is a different problem, one no theory has yet solved,
> >> except in a highly speculative way. My own speculation is
> >> that the addressee was asked for permission to dedicate the
> >> published sonnets, and refused it.
> >
> >That is not a theory which works.
> >The coy attitude to the identity of the
> >addressee is consistent throughout,
> >and a clear identification in, say, a
> >dedication, would be wholly at odds
> >with it and with the dominant tone.
>
> The sonnets are not 'coy'.
All are reticent and evasive about the identity
of the addressee, and about any events,
characteristics, and circumstances which
would help.
> I agree that the addressee's name does not appear anywhere
> in the book, or if you prefer it that way, ANYWHERE!!!
>
> But poems that did not actually contain a name could still
> be tied in by an explicit dedication.
It is manifest that each sonnet was written,
not merely with the intention that the identity
of the addressee would remain unknown, but
that it would provide no clues to that identity
to the uninitiated.
> On the other hand,
> maybe at one time some of the poems did contain a name and
> it has been edited out by the poet: a little crafty
> rewriting could do it. Not that I claim to know.
Much more than "a little crafty rewriting"
would be required in each case. Take any
selection of poems where no such
concealment was in the mind of the poet;
the 'editing' required to anonymise them
becomes impossible within about two lines.
You will be writing a new poem.
Robert Stonehouse
<slkwuoiut...@slkjlskjoioue.com> wrote:
>"Robert Stonehouse" <ew...@bcs.org.invalid> wrote in message
>news:rr86m114eu6hs2g10...@4ax.com...
...
>> >> >> What made Shakespeare write poetry? I would not venture to
>> >> >> say, except perhaps that poetry was in his nature.
>
>> >> There have been thousands of poets. Some of them have quoted
>> >> this as their reason for writing. The question was: what
>> >> made Shakespeare write? It was not: what made him a poet of
>> >> this special eminence?
>> >
>> >The questions cannot be separated.
>>
>> Yes they can. I've just done it. (So has Bob Grumman.)
>
>An implied term in my statement was 'sensibly'.
>The questions cannot sensibly be separated.
It's perfectly sensible to ask 'Why did X write?' and to ask
separately 'What made X a good poet?' The first is about
psychology, the second about literary criticism. If the lit.
crit. is condemnatory, you may not be interested in the
psychological question. That does not make them the same
question.
>
>Do the following sound sensible?
>
>What made Beethoven compose music? I would
>not venture to say, except perhaps that composing
>music was in his nature.
Very likely true. He _wanted_ to be a composer.
>What made Titian paint? I would not venture to say,
>except perhaps that painting was in his nature.
It wasn't Titian, but you must have heard of the aspiring
young man who looked at the latest paintings and was
inspired: 'Anch'io sono pittore!' He became a painter
because he wanted to, as not everybody does.
>What made Michelangelo sculpt? I would not venture
>to say, except perhaps that sculpture was in his nature.
>What made Michelangelo paint? I would not venture
>to say, except perhaps that painting was in his nature.
>What made Michelangelo build? I would not venture
>to say, except perhaps that building was in his nature.
He did so many things, it has to be more general. He wanted
to express himself in art. He did it in many kinds. For
example, he wrote sonnets.
>> >When
>> >we see a weak poet, we do not bother to ask
>> >'what made him write poetry?' (except perhaps
>> >ironically). The answers are often only too
>> >painfully obvious.
>>
>> What we might bother to ask has nothing to do with whether
>> two questions are the same question or not. These two are
>> not.
>
>The reason we would not bother is that it
>would be a waste of time. Such a question
>is pointless. You can, of course, separate
>the questions -- but only if you don't mind
>producing garbage.
Producing stuff you may not want to read, perhaps; but not
(necessarily stuff that isn't true.
>> ...
>> >What you say CAN be true -- if we are
>> >talking at large. But here we are talking
>> >about the Sonnets. Our poet never
>> >promised what you and Lynne think he
>> >promised -- eternal fame, against a
>> >background where the alternative was
>> >obscurity.
>>
>> I do not see how that can be said.
>
>It is easy, and I have given you the test.
>Does our poet, in each case, promise what
>you and Lynne think he promised (eternal
>fame, against a background where the
>alternative was obscurity) . . ? Or does he,
>in each of the few dozen cases in the sonnets,
>somehow skip around the natural form of
>wording that you and she expect?
>
>If so (and it is so) then could such repeated
>instances have arisen (in the totality of all
>those cases) purely by chance?
>
>It is not hard to estimate the probabilities
>involved. Estimate it for one, and then
>multiply up.
Where's the problem with sonnet 18?
Sonnets in the vocative do not naturally contain a name. If
you want to put one in, it has to be specially done.
"Cyriack, whose grandsire on the royal bench" or
"Lawrence, of virtuous father virtuous son".
>> On the other hand,
>> maybe at one time some of the poems did contain a name and
>> it has been edited out by the poet: a little crafty
>> rewriting could do it. Not that I claim to know.
>
>Much more than "a little crafty rewriting"
>would be required in each case. Take any
>selection of poems where no such
>concealment was in the mind of the poet;
>the 'editing' required to anonymise them
>becomes impossible within about two lines.
>You will be writing a new poem.
Shakespeare could have written a new poem. I don't see that
as an objection.