Numbers in bold brackets [] indicate original page numbers.
POETIC SELF-REVELATION: THE SONNETS
[369] "SHAKESPEARE is the only biographer of Shakespeare, and even he can tell nothing except to the Shakespeare in us." EMERSON.
The line of investigation pursued throughout the greater part of these pages has been to search for indirect and unconscious self-expression on the part of "Shakespeare." Anything like deliberate and complete direct self-disclosure is not to be expected: otherwise there would have been no problem for us to solve. There is, however, between the two a form of what may be called an intentional self-expression and self-revelation, which the writer might or might not hope would lead at last to definite self-disclosure. Seeing then that we have insisted throughout on the distinction between the poet and the dramatist, and that Edward de Vere began and ended as a poet; a lyric poet at the outset, and in his last years, as we believe, converting his dramas into poems: our first task must be to take whatever poetic self-revelation "Shakespeare" may have given of himself, and see to what extent it may be regarded as a work of self-disclosure on the part of Edward de Vere. Shakespeare's work of poetic self-expression is, of course, the Sonnets. The idea that these poems are fantastic dramatic inventions with mystic meanings we feel to be a violation of all normal probabilities and precedents. Accepting them, therefore, as autobiographical, our next step must be to see how these poems, as a whole, stand related to the authorship theory we are now advancing.
[370] Several points of accord between Edward de Vere and the "Shakespeare" disclosed in the Sonnets have already received attention in the course of our argument; these we shall now recapitulate.
1. It was from the Sonnets that we first of all deduced Shakespeare's personal attitude towards women: that curious combination of intense affectionateness with want of faith. All the passionate tenderness of his nature combined with mistrust runs through the set of sonnets addressed to the "dark lady"; whilst his lack of faith finds an additional expression in the sonnets addressed to the young man, who is
"not acquainted
With shifting change as is false woman's fashion."The same passionate affectionateness finds expression in Oxford's verse, whilst the passage just quoted from the Sonnets is the particular theme of the whole of the first poem of Oxford's we met with: that on "Women."
2. The writer of the Sonnets, notwithstanding the philosophic vigour of the poems, confesses to having "gone here and there and made himself a motley to the view"; which is strictly in accord with the "lightheadedness" and "eccentricity" that are attributed to Oxford, along with the high testimony that has been borne to the superiority of his powers both by contemporaries and modern writers thus affording a contrast between his actual capacity and his external bearing which had not escaped the observation of Burleigh himself.
3. The Sonnets bear unmistakable testimony to the fact that the writer was one whose brow was stamped with "vulgar scandal"; whose good name had been lost, and who, at the time of writing the sonnets dealing with this theme, wished that his name should be buried with his body. That Edward de Vere was a man fallen into disrepute is the one fact about him that seems to have been grasped by those who are at all acquainted with him. That it was a matter [371] upon which he felt sore, as Shakespeare did, is shown by what is probably one of the most powerful of his poems; one on "The Loss of his Good Name."
4. Edward de Vere's loss, early in life, of home influences, and his being brought up at court: possibly, too, the Bohemian life necessary to the fulfilment of his purposes as a dramatist, all contributed to produce the conditions under which his "name received a brand."
This finds its expression in 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."5. That Shakespeare was one who was pursuing a vocation involving, at the outset, concealment of materials from those with whom he was in direct social relationship is evident from Sonnet 48.
"How careful was I when I took my way
Each trifle under truest bars to thrust."This exactly fits in with the bearing of Oxford's early domestic relationships upon his dramatic and literary enterprises.
6. An allusion to Oxford's functions as Lord Great Chamberlain is probably contained in Sonnet 125 beginning,
"Were't aught to me I bore the canopy?"
7. As there is strong evidence to support our theory that Oxford was the man referred to by Spenser as "our pleasant Willie," we are able to connect with this theory the cryptic utterance of "Shakespeare" in the "Will" Sonnets:
"For my name is Will."
8. In our chapter on Posthumous Considerations we have shown that there is good ground for believing that [372] "our ever-living poet" was dead when the Sonnets were published in 1609; and the fact that after being penned during many years the series was brought to an abrupt close, as near as can be judged, just before the death of Edward de Vere, supports the contention that the writer of the Sonnets, whoever he was, died at the same time as Edward de Vere.
Starting with these several points, of accord which in their combination certainly represent a remarkable set of coincidences, our next task must be to examine the general situation represented in the Sonnets, and see to what extent this, along with the details just enumerated, combine and form a consistent unity, applicable to the person and circumstances of Edward de Vere.
The first and most important set of sonnets is itself divisible into sections, the opening section being a set of seventeen, the main burden of which is to urge the young man to whom they are addressed to marry, in order to secure the continuance of his own aristocratic family and the rebirth of his own attractive personality in his posterity.
"Then what could death do if thou shouldst depart,
Leaving thee living in posterity?""Thou stick'st not to conspire,
Seeking that beauteous roof to ruinate
Which to repair should be thy chief desire.""Who lets so fair a house fall to decay,
Which husbandry in honour might uphold
Against the stormy gusts of winter's day?
* * *
You had a father: let your son say so."We are not told who the particular young man was; but the general assumption is that it was Henry Wriothesley, Earl of Southampton. This is not only a reasonable supposition, but it would be unreasonable to suppose that it was any one else; for the following reasons:
1. The personal description exactly fits. [373]
2. The personal situation also fits, for his father was dead, his mother was living, he was the only surviving representative of his family, and efforts were being made to get him to marry: efforts which he was resisting.
3. The poet addresses him in the same terms of strong affection as in the dedication to "Lucrece."
4. Direct reference is made to the dedications.
The fact of the young man's father being dead and his mother being still alive is made clear by the separate references, to them:
"You had a father: let your son say so"
and
"Thou art thy mother's glass and she, in thee,
Calls back the lovely April of her prime."Such references to Southampton's father and mother are quite befitting a writer who was old enough to have been the father of the youth, and who had been on intimate terms with both parents; for Oxford's former close association with the late Earl is made quite clear in the State Papers dealing with the catholic troubles some ten years before. The reference to "the lovely April" of the Countess's "prime" was natural to one who remembered her in her early years; so that the youth, the deceased father, the Dowager Countess, and the writer, all assume a very intelligible relation to one another and to the poems, as soon as we assume the Earl of Oxford to have been the writer.
On the other hand it is well-nigh impossible to fit William Shakspere of Stratford into the picture, and to think of him at the age of twenty-six speaking with such assurance of intimate knowledge of the Countess's "lovely prime." We may perhaps be excused for reminding the reader again that it was the Countess of Southampton who made the entry after date into the accounts of the Treasurer of the Chamber, of the only reference to Shakespeare that these accounts contain. In a letter written later to her son [374] she makes what has always been regarded as a mysterious allusion to some one whom she speaks of as "Falstaff." This, again, will be interesting to those who may think with Mr. Frank Harris that Falstaff is "Shakespeare's" caricature of himself under particular aspects. We need not pretend, however, to explain Lady Southampton's part in these matters.
The identity of the young man of the sonnets with the one to whom the long poems were dedicated is further attested by sonnets 81 and 82.
"Your name from hence immortal life shall have,
Though I, once dead, to all the world must die.
* * *
Your monument shall be my gentle verse."As, then, the name of Southampton is the only one which the poet has associated with his verse, not even excepting his own, it is difficult to see how the young man addressed could be any other than he; especially as the companion sonnet proceeds,
"I grant thou wert not married to my Muse,
And therefore, may'st, without attaint, o'erlook
The dedicated, words, which writers use
Of their fair subject, blessing every book."In our conclusion that these Sonnets were addressed to Southampton, we have the full support of the great majority of authorities on the subject.
We desire to avoid as far as possible being drawn into the entanglements of discussing the dedication prefaced to Thorpe's edition of the Sonnets. Whether the letters W. H. are the transposed initials of Henry Wriothesley or not, there are no traces of "our ever-living poet" attempting to give "immortality" to any other contemporary; and the man to whom the first of the Sonnets are addressed was certainly the "begetter" of the first section in the sense of being their [375] theme and inspiration. It is natural to suppose, therefore, that the "begetter" referred to in the dedication means the person to whom the particular sonnets are addressed. At the same time he was not the "only begetter" in this sense, since others of these poems are just as certainly addressed to a "dark lady." As, however, this dedication is without any "Shakespeare" authority it may have been penned by T. T. before he had read the whole series. At any rate, no conclusive argument can be drawn from a study of the initials alone.
The only argument that really needs attention is to the effect that the use of the letters W. H. shows that, in the opinion of the writer of the dedication, Wriothesley was not the person to whom the Sonnets were addressed; that, if concealment was aimed at, the transposed initials device was too transparent to have been used: whilst if concealment was not aimed at, the initials would have appeared in their right order. Decisive as this argument may appear, facts are unfortunately against it; for, in the publication of an important anthology of the time, "England's Helicon," which contains matter relevant to our present enquiry, though put aside for the time being, the editor appears as L. N., the transposed initials of Nicholas Ling, the publisher of "Hamlet." W. H. may or may not therefore have referred to Henry Wriothesley; and, as we know nothing of the writer's authority, it evidently does not matter whether they do or do not. In a word, the discussion is perfectly useless, but will probably for that reason continue to exercise a strong fascination for "intellectuals."
So much printer's ink has already been wasted over these initials that a little more will hardly matter. Seeing, then, that others have indulged in guesses about T. T., the favourite theory being that they refer to Thorpe the publisher, we may perhaps be permitted to point out that the name of the father of Oxford's widow was Thomas Trentham, and that if he were alive at the time when Oxford died, he would be the one to whom the widow would [376] naturally turn for assistance in straightening out the affairs. Certainly her brother's name appears more than once in connection with the management of her son's estate. Fortunately the question is not likely to arise as to whether these initials are in their original or transposed order.
Quite apart, however, from this discussion of the dedication, there is ample justification for the belief that the "better-angel" of the Sonnets was Henry Wriothesley, Third Earl of Southampton.
Now, as to the man who wrote the sonnets: for this is really the most important point. Throughout the whole series he assumes the attitude of a matured man addressing a youth. Indeed, in one of the other series he speaks of himself as being no "untutor'd youth," but that his "days are past the best." The following, from Sonnet 63, is unmistakable:
"Against my love shall be, as I am now,
With Time's injurious hand crush'd and o'erworn;
When hours have drain,'d his blood and fill'd his, brow
With lines and wrinkles, etc."We may even detect an indication of his approximate age in the lines:
"When forty winters shall besiege thy brow,
And dig deep trenches in thy beauty's field."The next point is the date at which these particular sonnets were written. We find that the first sonnets of the first set are assigned generally to about the year 1590, when Oxford was just forty years of age. The dedication of "Venus" to Wriothesley is dated 1593; and as the sonnet which seems to refer to it is number 83, 1590 may be accepted as a reasonable date for these seventeen opening sonnets. This, then, is the situation represented by the poems. About the year 1590 a matured man "With Time's injurious hand crush'd and o'erworn," addressed to the youthful Earl of Southampton, then only about seventeen [377] years of age, a number of sonnets urging upon him the question of matrimony, and putting in the specially aristocratic plea of maintaining the continuance of his, family's succession.
In respect to these facts we shall first consider the Stratfordian position. In the year 1590, William Shakspere, the son of a Stratford citizen, having become interested in theatres, and thereby acquainted with a young man just home from the university, and having himself by that time attained the patriarchal age of twenty-six, suddenly becomes greatly concerned about the continuance of the youth's aristocratic family, and writes a set of exquisite sonnets urging him to marry. He also assumes the bearing and tone of a man of large and even painful experience, "past his best," with chilled blood and wrinkled brow. We doubt whether a more ridiculous position ever provoked the hilarity of mankind. The position of Bacon in respect to this matter is only slightly better; for he, at that time, was still under thirty years of age, though, as one about the court, his acquaintance with Wriothesley would have been of longer duration and probably more intimate.
Most amusing in connection with the question of the age of the poet is the theory that Roger Manners, Fifth Earl of Rutland, was the author of the sonnets. For in 1590 Roger Manners was only fourteen years of age, and the entire series of Shakespeare's Sonnets was brought to a close before he had reached the age of twenty-seven.
To get over the inherent absurdity of William Shakspere being the author of these poems, far-fetched explanations of his attitude have had to be invented, and the personal contents of the sonnets either passed over as pure enigma, or interpreted in some extravagant metaphorical sense. The substitution of De Vere for the Stratford man alters all this, and makes these verses really intelligible and rational for the first time since they appeared — over three [378] hundred years ago. In the year, 1590 Edward de Vere was forty years of age. Behind him there lay a life marked by vicissitudes in every way calculated to have given him a sense of age even beyond his forty years. He was a nobleman of the same high rank as Southampton and just a generation older. The question of the perpetuation of ancient aristocratic families was to him a matter of paramount interest; an interest intensified by disappointment, for although he had several daughters, that dominant desire of feudal aristocrats, a son, had been denied him.* His only son had died in infancy and he was at this time a widower. The peculiar circumstances of the youth to whom the Sonnets were addressed were strikingly analogous to his own. Both had been left orphans and royal wards at an early age, both had been brought up under the same guardian, both had the same kind of literary tastes and interests, and later the young man followed exactly the same course as the elder had done as a patron of literature and the drama.
Then just at the time when these sonnets were being written urging Southampton to marry, he was actually being urged into a marriage with a daughter of the Earl of Oxford; and this proposed marriage he was resisting, although his mother had sanctioned it, and the parties on the other side were anxious to bring it about. This furnishes the vital connection between the Earl of Southampton and the Earl of Oxford, to which allusion has been made in previous chapters. We shall therefore state the fact in the words of the eminent Stratfordian authority to whom we are under such large obligations.
"When he was seventeen Burleigh offered him a wife in the person of his granddaughter, Lady Elizabeth Vere, eldest daughter of his daughter Anne and of the Earl of Oxford. The Countess Southampton approved the match. [379] . . . Southampton declined to marry" (Life of Shakespeare — Sir Sidney Lee).
Now with this fact in mind, and with a sense of all we have represented of the Earl of Oxford in these pages, let the reader turn again to the Sonnets, especially the first seventeen, and ponder them carefully. To have urged marriage as a general and indefinite proposition upon a youth of seventeen, with the single aim of securing posterity for the youth, would have had something fatuous about it. In connection with a definite project of marriage, from one who was personally interested in it, the appeal comes to have, at last, an explicable relationship to fact.
This had evidently occurred to Judge Webb; for in his work on "The Shakespeare Mystery," he got so far as to attribute these sonnets to the particular marriage proposal, and even to suggest the idea of their being written by some one specially interested in the lady. How he managed to miss the obvious inference looks like another "Shakespeare mystery" in itself. The Judge surmises that as Bacon was nephew to the lady's grandfather, he might have felt sufficiently interested in the marriage proposal to have penned the Sonnets at this, time. His Honour's Baconian leanings had evidently disturbed his juridical balance; for not only would a family connection like this be much too remote to call forth such enthusiasm, but, as we have already said, Bacon at the time of this marriage proposal was still under thirty years of age.
Seeing that we have quoted a Baconian in support of the idea that the sonnets sprang from this particular marriage proposal, we may mention the fact that Mrs. Stopes, as a Stratfordian, supports the view, and suggests that Shakspere was urged to write the sonnets by some one who was anxious to bring about the marriage.
No man answering to the description which the writer of the Sonnets gives of himself could have had better [380] reasons for the peculiar kind of interest expressed in the poems than the father of the lady. To find so reasonable a key, then, to a set of sonnets on so peculiar a theme is something in itself; and to find this key so directly connected with the very man whom we had selected as the probable author of the poems is almost disconcerting in its conclusiveness. The very obviousness of it all makes us pause. For the first time since they appeared we feel entitled to maintain these seventeen sonnets are raised above the absurd and enigmatical, and made into a perfectly simple and intelligible expression of a legitimate desire. The older man who was urging the young one to think of sons, a matter not likely to interest a youth of seventeen, was contemplating his own possible posterity in the shape of grandsons.
If, now, we turn from the external relationships represented by the sonnets to the internal sentiments which they express, though we may not be able to bring
these yet within the bounds of what we should now consider normal, it is difficult to imagine any other circumstances under which the friendship of one man for another would fit in better with such expressions. All that is necessary is to read through the biographies of these two men, as they appear in the Dictionary of National Biography. It will then be realized that in many of its leading features the life of the younger man is a reproduction of the life of the elder. It is difficult to resist the feeling that Wriothesley had made a hero of De Vere, and had attempted to model his life on that of his predecessor as royal ward. When to this striking correspondence in external circumstances, and literary and other interests is added the intensely affectionate nature of the elder man, and his comparative isolation at the time, there exist certainly the most favourable conditions for such expressions of attachment as the sonnets contain.With regard to the rate of the output of these sonnets, it would be absurd to reduce it to one of simple arithmetic. [381] Even works of poetic genius have nevertheless some relation to number and time. If, then, sonnet 82, which refers to the dedications of the poems, were written about the years 1593-4, when the poems were published, we get an average of between 20 and 30 per year for the initial rate of production. That brings the first 17, in which the writer is harping largely upon the one string of marriage, well within the year which corresponds, so far as can be judged, to the time when the marriage of Southampton to De Vere's daughter was under consideration. Owing to Southampton's decided opposition the matter seems to have been dropped; and, on turning to the sonnets, we find that although the personal feelings of the writer for Southampton become more intensely affectionate, concern for the young nobleman's posterity altogether disappears: for after these opening sonnets the question is never again raised. The writer of the Sonnets, it would seem, cared more about this particular marriage than about Southampton's posterity: a state of things which would have appeared strange by itself, but read in the light of Oxford's own personal interest in the particular marriage proposal which fell through, it is, of course, quite intelligible.
Before leaving the question of this marriage proposal, seeing that we have already introduced the names of two others who have been put forward as candidates for Shakespearean honours, Bacon and Rutland, we may perhaps be excused or referring to the only other whose name, so far as we know, has been raised in this connection, namely William Stanley, Sixth Earl of Derby. He was about the same age as Bacon, and as a matter of fact, actually married the very lady whom Southampton was urged to marry. So that, if our theory of the authorship is correct, Mr. Greenstreet in England and M. Lefranc in France, in putting forward the son-in-law of Oxford as the author, may be congratulated upon having come very close to the right man.
It may be worth while pointing out that, from letters in [382] the Hatfield Manuscripts, it appears that Oxford interested himself more in his daughter Elizabeth than in either of the other two, and this marriage with William Stanley, Earl of Derby, was a matter of very special concern to him. Seeing, then, that the Derby theory arose from the simple fact that in 1599 the Earl of Derby had been occupied in "penning" plays, whilst nothing is known of his composing them, it is not an unreasonable supposition that, as husband to Oxford's favourite daughter, he may have been assisting his father-in-law in the actual penning of "Shakespeare's" plays.
The other personal relationship with which these poems deal — "Shakespeare" and the "dark lady," whom he describes as the "worser spirit," and his "female evil" — presents a problem not yet solved, and which may remain unsolved for all time. There is perhaps no particular reason why we should trouble about it except for the purpose of doing justice to the poet. One thing does, however, stand out clearly from the set of sonnets (beginning 127) namely, that to him it was a matter of the heart, of a most intense and sincere character, but to the lady a much more equivocal affair. Nothing but an overwhelming heart hunger could ever have induced any man of spirit to maintain the attitude described.
Mixed in with this shorter series we find that there are several sonnets which do not belong to it as a special personal series. Nor do those which belong properly to the set appear to be all printed in the order in which they were written. If, however, we take those which refer to the "dark lady" episode in the writer's life, we find that just before the series is abruptly ended it touches upon matters dealt with in sonnets 40, 41, and 42 of the first series. In other words, the events dealt with in the second series (see 133-144) come to an end in the early part, possibly the second year, of the first series. This would bring us to the year before [383] De Vere's second marriage. The events as a whole, then, would seem to belong to a period of about two years in the four years that he was a widower. The intolerable state of affairs which they disclose could not go on, and the words which Shakespeare puts into the mouth of Othello might be taken as an allusion to his own personal affairs.
"Though that her jesses were my dear heart strings
I'd whistle her off, and let her down the wind
To play at Fortune."This is the passage which is exactly paralleled by De Vere in the lines:
"Who would not scorn and shake them from the fist
And let them fly, fair fools, which way they list."The sudden closing of the series is at any rate suggestive of such an action, and if we attribute words and action alike to the Earl of Oxford, his marriage, in the following year, would be in harmony with such an act of self-liberation from discreditable bonds. It is to be remarked, however, that it is as "Shakespeare" not as Oxford that we get evidence of this regrettable alliance. In spite of the general accusations made against Oxford, no single definite and authenticated example is otherwise forthcoming.
If, now, we take the whole of the short series as having been written about the same time as the first forty or fifty of the first series, we may resume the examination of the first sonnets at this point with a sense of their now forming an uninterrupted series, with no cross currents from the other set. From this point onwards neither the original theme of the young man's marriage, nor any allusion to the painful episode common to the two series appears. What there is of a painful character arises from personal retrospect, reflection, or passing moods, rather than from contemporary events; which is quite suggestive of a man whose [384] stormiest outward experiences were over. This corresponds, to the period when the Shakespeare dramas were being given forth, and when Oxford was, to all appearances, enjoying his retirement after his second marriage.
A hitch in the friendship between the poet and the young man appears about the time of the dedication of the poems (sonnets 89-90), and the particular circumstances that may have lain behind this and other references to passing events, would, of course, be known only to the parties involved. The important point is, that all these appear, if not explained, at any rate explicable for the first time, when we suppose them to be written by the somewhat lonely and mysterious nobleman, whose known experiences, joined to those which the sonnets reveal, represent him as one of the most pathetic and heroic figures in the tragic records of genius.
As supplementary details we would suggest for consideration the following from sonnet 91.
"Some glory in their birth, some in their skill,
Some in their wealth, some in their body's force;
Some in their garments, though new-fangled ill;
Some in their hawks and hounds; some in their horse;
And every humour hath his adjunct pleasure.
* * *
All these I better in one general best,
Thy love is better than high birth to me,
Richer than wealth, prouder than garments' cost,
Of more delight than hawks or horses be."From a man like William Shakspere such an expression would be so palpably a case of "sour grapes," that it is incredible that any poet of intelligence would make himself so ridiculous. From a man in Oxford's position, who had had all of these things, and who had no doubt gloried in them all in turn, the expression is lifted above the childish and placed in a reasonable relationship to facts. It is not too much to claim that every word of this sonnet bespeaks Edward de Vere as its author; for it gives us practically a [385] symposium of the outstanding external facts of his life and his interests. Yet all these things, the advantages of birth, the fame for skill and "body's force," rich clothing, wealth, hawks, hounds and horses, he had proved himself capable of sacrificing to those interests that appealed to his spirit. In every particular, then, the contrast presented by supposing those sonnets to have been written by the Stratford man on the one hand or Edward de Vere on the other, leaves no doubt as to which of the two mankind would choose as the author if the decision had to rest on a consideration of the Sonnets alone.
The Sonnets stand there for every one to read, and no arguments could have the same value as an intimate knowledge of the poems themselves viewed in the light of the actual facts of the life and reputation of Edward de Vere. Upon all who wish to arrive at the truth of the matter we urge the close and frequent reading of the Sonnets. It is not necessary to believe that all the first set were addressed to the youth or all the second set to the "dark lady." Nor is it necessary to solve the mystery of the dark lady: for it is not in the nature of things for such a man to pass away and leave no insoluble mysteries. Some of the Sonnets seem to have no personal bearing and others can hardly be made applicable to the two chief personalities. These things are immaterial. Neither is it necessary to penetrate all the disguises which "Shakespeare" himself, or his executors after him, may have thought right to adopt in respect to these effusions of sentiment and their objects. But we are unable to place ourselves in the position of a reader, who with the facts concerning Oxford that we have submitted, can become conversant with these Sonnets without realizing that they reflect at once the soul and the circumstances of "the best of the courtier poets of the early days of Queen Elizabeth."
In conclusion, we must add a word about the technique [386] of the Sonnets. Shakespeare's rejection of the Petrarcan sonnet we hold to have been sound poetic judgment, based upon a true ear for the musical qualities and acoustic properties of the English language. The Petrarcan sonnet has grown out of the distinctive qualities of the language of Italy, and the attempt to impose its, rhyme rules upon the English sonnet, involving so great a sacrifice of sense to sound, has gone far to produce the relative poverty of post-Shakespearean sonneteering. However this may be, the Shakespearean sonnet has its own distinctiveness, which bears upon our subject.
The so-called "Shakespeare sonnet," we are told by William Sharp, in his "Sonnets of this, Century" (19th), possesses "a capability of impressiveness unsurpassed by any sonnet of Dante or Milton." He points out, however, that when Shakespeare used this form of sonnet in the last years of the sixteenth century, he was using a form "made thoroughly ready for his use by Daniel and Drayton." Now, as Daniel was twelve years, and Drayton thirteen years younger than Edward de Vere, and as the last named was publishing poetry at a relatively early age, it is clear that his early lyrics come before those of either of the other two men.
Seeing, then, that we have a sonnet of Edward de Vere's which is obviously an early production, and that this is in what we now call the Shakespearean form, we are entitled to claim, on the above authority, that the actual founder of the Shakespearean sonnet was Edward de Vere: certainly a very important contribution to the evidence we have been accumulating. The Sonnets, therefore, which are fundamentally a work of spiritual self-revelation, almost become a work of complete self-disclosure. In submitting the following sonnet of Oxford's mainly on account of its form we would also point out its note of constancy: a theme upon which many of "Shakespeare's" Sonnets dwell.
[387] SONNET By EDWARD DE VERE
"LOVE THY CHOICE."
Who taught thee first to sigh, alas! my heart?
Who taught thy tongue the woeful words of plaint?
Who filled your eyes with tears of bitter smart?
Who gave thee grief and made thy joys to faint?
Who first did paint with colours pale thy face?
Who first did break thy sleeps of quiet rest?
Above the rest in court who gave thee grace?
Who made thee strive in honour to be best?
In constant truth to bide so firm and sure,
To scorn the world regarding but thy friends?
With patient mind each passion to endure,
In one desire to settle to the end?
Love then thy choice wherein such choice thou bind
As nought but death may ever change thy mind.This, then, may be regarded as the first "Shakespeare" sonnet. It is the only sonnet in the collection of Edward de Vere's poems, and it is composed in the only form employed by Shakespeare, although other sonneteers were then experimenting upon other forms. It is obviously one of his earliest efforts, for it expresses an attitude towards woman only found in one other of his poems, "What Cunning Can Express?" — an attitude belonging to the unsullied ideals of his youth, which later on gave place to the cynicism or bitterness of the De Vere poem on "Women," and of what are now known as the "Shakespeare Sonnets." From the point of view of evidence of Oxford's identity with Shakespeare its chief value lies in its technique, which is, most certainly Shakespearean. It does, however, furnish an. other link in the chain of evidence which is worth mentioning.
The first sonnets of "Shakespeare's" to appear were those in "Romeo and Juliet"; a play which has already furnished us with important connections between Edward de Vere's poetry and Shakespeare. Now, "Romeo and Juliet," [388] not only first presents sonnets on this model, but it is the only play of Shakespeare's which expresses seriously the sentiment of this sonnet of Edward de Vere's. Shakespeare's comedies treat the theme of man's love for woman in the spirit of comedy; and his great tragedies like "Othello" and "Antony and Cleopatra" give us the vigorous passions of matured men. "Romeo and Juliet" alone, of all the plays, gives us seriously the tender, gentle, idealistic love of young people. And, as we have already more than once pointed out, Juliet was just the age of Oxford's wife at the time of their marriage (about 14 years).
With this sonnet of Oxford's in mind then, turn to "Romeo and Juliet," and look into the text of the play, especially the parts spoken by, or in reference to, Romeo himself, observing the allusions to sighings, floods, of womanish tears, bitter griefs, broken sleep, pledges of constancy, and death. The youthful Romeo in the play is the young Earl of Oxford as he represents himself in the sonnet before us.
So much from the point of view of evidence. We have, however, another purpose to achieve in this work: namely, to assist towards the formation of a correct estimate of Edward de Vere. We ask, therefore, for a careful weighing of this particular poem and the spirit it reveals. Gentle, tender-hearted, supersensitive, idealistic, refined almost to the point of femininity; such is the young Earl of Oxford as he here reveals himself. And as in the light of such a revelation we review the various references to him in modern books, we can only say, without attempting to fasten the full blame anywhere, that he was the victim of a most adverse fate: the many references to which throughout the sonnets stand now explained for the first time, making plain why a Shakespeare Problem, or a Shakespeare Mystery, has happened to have a place in the world's history.
We conclude our examination of the sonnets with a sense of its being marked by the same feature as has, [389] manifested itself in every other section of our investigation: namely, that it is not merely in one or two striking points that the personality disclosed coincides with that of the Earl of Oxford; but that everything fits in, in a most extraordinary manner, the moment his personality is introduced. There is surely only one explanation possible for all this.
*Note. — One authority says two sons. back