CHAPTER XII.

FURTHER PARTICULARS IN SHAKESPEARE'S BIOGRAPHY.

IMPORTANT facts in relation to Shakespeare's life have been already considered. The biographical materials presented by the Sonnets have been, however, by no means exhausted, as may be seen in this and subsequent sections. A few particulars may be here grouped together.

§ 1. Allusions to Advancing Age.-In certain of the Sonnets Shakespeare speaks of his age as already advanced, or even as declining, though, according to the conclusions before expressed, he would be, when the Sonnets in question were written, but about thirty-four or thirty-five. We may take as an example 73, in which, though with beautiful imagery, the feeling of age is very strongly expressed :

"That time of year thou may'st in me behold
When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang
Upon those boughs which shake against the cold
Bare ruin'd choirs, where late the sweet birds sang.
In me thou see'st the twilight of such day
As after sunset fadeth in the west,

Which by-and-by black night doth take away,
Death's second self, that seals up all in rest.
In me thou see'st the glowing of such fire,
That on the ashes of his youth doth lie,
As the death-bed whereon it must expire,
Consum'd with that which it was nourish'd by.

This thou perceiv'st, which makes thy love more strong
To love that well which thou must leave ere long."

Certainly, at first sight, such language as this would seem inconsistent with the poet's having attained only the age mentioned above. I am not very willing to accept the

explanation that, on account of difference in the conditions of life, the signs of age made their appearance sooner three centuries ago than they do now. It is more to the purpose that, as compared with the age of Herbert at eighteen. ("the world's fresh ornament, and only herald to the gaudy spring" (1), in "the lovely April" of his prime (3)), not only was forty (2), but even thirty-four or thirty-five a somewhat advanced age. This comparison, expressed or implied, should be kept in view, and we should certainly not lose sight of the hue of melancholy which is so clearly conspicuous in many of the Sonnets between 64 and 94. A melancholic tendency would have an important effect on such exaggeration of age as appears in 73 and elsewhere. Drayton, as already mentioned, in his Idea, when only some thirty-six years of age, speaks of himself as already aged (supra, p. 41). This, however, may be accounted for on the supposition that Drayton was imitating Shakespeare. But such imitation is consistent only with the position that Shakespeare was in fact but thirty-four or thirty-five years old when 73 and other Sonnets were written, as the date of Drayton's Idea would fix the date before which these Sonnets, or some of them, must have been composed. The two following stanzas from Lord Byron's poem written on the completion of his thirty-sixth year are in some respects more important, since it is in no way probable that they were written in conscious imitation of Shakespeare:

My days are in the yellow leaf,

The flowers and fruits of love are gone;
The worm, the canker, and the grief
Are mine alone.

"The fire that on my bosom preys
Is lone as some volcanic isle;
No torch is kindled at its blaze,-
A funeral pile."

Here we may see again, as in 73, the yellow leaf, the boughs without flower or fruit, the solitary and smothered

fire, while the "death-bed" is replaced by the funeral pile. The objection that Shakespeare could not, at thirty-five, have written seriously as he did write in the Sonnets, is thus seen to be without weight. Of course, it is possible that Shakespeare may have become in appearance prematurely aged; but for the interpretation of 73, &c., it is not necessary to affirm this as even probable.

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§ 2. Shakespeare Travelling. In the Sonnets from 43 to 52 we have several interesting glimpses of Shakespeare preparing for and travelling on a journey, probably together with his company, towards some provincial towns. At his London residence he leaves behind him no one in whom he can place implicit confidence. All his valuables must be locked up and secured from depredators :—

"How careful was I, when I took my way,

Each trifle under truest bars to thrust,

That, to my use, it might unused stay

From hands of falsehood, in sure wards of trust!" (48).

As to the means of conveyance, not only was the railway, with its iron horse, more than two centuries in the future : even the stage-coach was not yet. The Lord Chamberlain's company did not travel perhaps, as Hamlet gives it, "each actor on his ass," but each on a steed hired possibly for the road to the next important town. Shakespeare cannot leave London and his valuable young friend without some misgivings. And the sorry hack he has hired seems almost to share his rider's unwillingness to leave London behind. He knows nothing of swiftness, even when urged on by the spur :

"How heavy do I journey on the way

When what I seek-my weary travel's end-
Doth teach that ease and that repose to say,

'Thus far the miles are measured from thy friend!'
The beast that bears me, tired with my woe,

Plods dully on, to bear that weight in me,
As if by some instinct the wretch did know

His rider lov'd not speed, being made from thee:

The bloody spur cannot provoke him on,
That sometimes anger thrusts into his hide,
Which heavily he answers with a groan,
More sharp to me than spurring to his side:
For that same groan doth put this in my mind,
My grief lies onward, and my joy behind" (50).

If he puts up for the night at an inn, besides such entertainment as his host and hostess may provide, he has carried with him the materials for another feast in a minia

ture portrait of his friend. This being drawn forth, his eye invites his heart to "the painted banquet" (47), and his thoughts "present-absent" go "in tender embassy of love" (45),

"Or, if they sleep, thy picture in my sight

Awakes my heart to heart's and eye's delight" (47).

§ 3. Shakespeare's Dislike of the Dramatic Profession.That Shakespeare should have expressed a dislike for the dramatic profession and its surroundings has been looked upon as scarcely credible, and yet this is a matter on which the Sonnets leave no room for doubt. Here mention must be especially made of Sonnet III:—

"O, for my sake do you with Fortune chide,
The guilty goddess of my harmful deeds,
That did not better for my life provide

Than public means, which public manners breeds.
Thence comes it that my name receives a brand,
And almost thence my nature is subdued

To what it works in, like the dyer's hand."

It thus appears that to Shakespeare the associations and circumstances of the theatre seemed debasing. And this feeling might well be deepened by intimacy with a young nobleman of so high rank as William Herbert. With the sensitiveness of his poetic nature, Shakespeare could not but deeply feel his being looked upon as so mean a person that social usage would not allow his dearest friend to recognise the acquaintance in public:

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"Which, though it alter not love's sole effect,
Yet doth it steal sweet hours from love's delight.
I may not ever more acknowledge thee

Lest my bewailed guilt should do thee shame;
Nor thou with public kindness honour me,

Unless thou take that honour from thy name" (36).

Sonnet 37, which speaks of Shakespeare's being "made lame" by the "spite" of Fortune, stands in close connection with 36. Accordingly, it seems to me that Shakespeare's lameness is to be taken figuratively of social disqualification through lack of fortune, and through his consequently following an occupation looked upon as degrading. I should not even think it likely that Shakespeare had become temporarily lame as the result of an accident. Shakespeare's dislike of the dramatic profession requires, however, to be considered in connection with the matter treated of in the next chapter; though, at the same time, we should not disregard the view of the actor's calling given in Hamlet (Act iii. sc. 2, lines 18-39).

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