I came across this in my reading today. starroute says it’s one of Shakespeare’s sonnets. I wanted to write it down somewhere to remind myself to read it again (and again, and again…) so I thought here might be a good place, and y’all can have a read too:
They that have power to hurt and will do none,
That do not do the thing they most do show,
Who, moving others, are themselves as stone,
Unmoved, cold, and to temptation slow,They rightly do inherit heaven’s graces
And husband nature’s riches from expense;
They are the lords and owners of their faces,
Others but stewards of their excellence.The summer’s flower is to the summer sweet,
Though to itself it only live and die,
But if that flower with base infection meet,
The basest weed outbraves his dignity:For sweetest things turn sourest by their deeds;
Lilies that fester smell far worse than weeds.
Peace to all my froggy friends.
…and Peace to you as well
but a really cool t-shirt.
“The only Bush I trust is my own!”
So a bit of Googling tells me. 🙂
Not to be pedantic, but the sonnet is not complimentary. The clue to Shakespeare’s use of irony is “..are themselves as stone,
Unmoved, cold, and to temptation slow”.
This was always a negative quality in the Renaissance; immunity to passion was disdained.
The object of his affection moves others but is unmoved, portrays love, but feels it not, and does no harm, not from virtue, but because he/she either doesn’t care enough to be bothered, or isn’t quite ready to leave the relationship yet.
The writer vacillates between damning with faint praise and trying desperately to put the beloved’s behavior in the best possible light in order to illustrate how hope keeps us clinging to relationships that we know in our hearts are over.
Try as it might, the poem cannot make a virtue of economy and good management when the carefully controlled comodity is his lover’s affection.
He fears that his sweetheart does not really love him anymore, but clutches hope with both hands, and will not squarely face what he knows is true.
This is a brilliant sonnet, and much more complex than can be done justice in these few words.
Thank you susan. Having never come across the lines before, and not really being much of a student of interpreting such cryptic imagery, I hadn’t gotten that meaning, and I might not have for a while. I don’t know if that’s the only reading, tho. I was struck by the notion of grace through inaction, and how, so often we are quick to temper — defending that which we hold dear, only to destroy that thing we love. In fact, I wanted to come back and reflect on the words again later, but to be honest (with all due respect), the lines reminded me of Boo:
… to me, that echos the wisdom of patience and gentle trust, that if your heart is pure, and your manner unwaivering, then those around you will eventually sort things out for the best, despite the shitstorms being stirred up by the more passionate among us. (Myself included; it’s a trait I admire and wish to emulate.)
… Geez…. now that you’ve called me out, everyone’s going to think I was sucking up to him. :/
No, no, I had no intention of calling you out. It is a very difficult poem, fraught with ambiguity which you read quite correctly. The poet fears that his relationship is over, but tries to talk himself out of it. Because his sweetheart hasn’t dumped him yet,
“have power to hurt and will do none”, he hopes all is well, but can’t help questioning whether his lover can’t be bothered to break with him formally, or is hanging in there for reasons of expediency. He wants so much to believe, that he tries to infuse his lover’s behavior with the best of motives, so of course a first reading appears to be a list of virtues.
“They rightly do inherit heaven’s graces
And husband nature’s riches from expense;
They are the lords and owners of their faces,
Others but stewards of their excellence.”
These are indeed excellant qualities, well applied to our Booman, were they commenting in general on character. The reader is supposed to think he is praising his sweetheart at first glance, until he builds up enough witholding images that we become uncomfortably aware that the “goods” being husbanded from expense and administered by the poet in name only are the beloved’s attractions, affections and constancy.
This sonnet also must be read in the context of several others in series. Knowing the plays helps, too; there are references to the betrayal of Ceasar by those closest to him. The more deeply this poem is read, the darker it becomes. It captures the anguish of clinging to a delusion because the truth is too terrible to bear.
I thought that maybe I should just shut up and leave your kindly, well-intentioned post alone. I know I’m an over educated smart-ass, and inclined to be pompous, and one does not ALWAYS have to say everything one thinks. I did not wish to be rude to you, and was afraid that you’d think I was calling you stupid, or something. I do not think you are stupid at all; you just haven’t studied Renaissance culture for 50 years.
In my defense, I love Shakespeare to the depth of my soul, and would have his genius understood and celebrated. This is so much more than pretty, complimentary verse.
susan, your commentary on this work is fascinating and enlightening. this is exactly why i come out to the internet to play — so we can all share our specialized knowledge and our unique perspectives, and weave them into a greater understanding, and, hopefully, into a better world. On the other hand, I was quite comfortable with my cursory reading, and I might’ve found it easier to live in ignorance. Now I’m going to have to think about the tensions and contradictions you’ve pointed out. Thanks a lot. 😉
Thank you, CookTing.
You are right gracious, gentil, and full of coutesie.
CookTing – giving a 4 just didn’t seem enough. This comment, “I might’ve found it easier to live in ignorance. Now I’m going to have to think about the tensions and contradictions you’ve pointed out,” was so refreshing that I felt the need to say thanks.
Susanw – thank you for taking the time to explain this sonnet. I am so glad you spoke up as I would have misunderstood it.
There is no end to the joys of the Pond!
I can even be a boring, pedantic asshole, and everybody’s nice to me.
In all seriousness, this is the single most intellectually curious and diversely knowledgeable group of people I have ever encountered in one place.
I have learned so much from all of you, and delight in returning the favour.
Like Chaucer’s Clerk of Oxenford:
“And gladly wolde he lerne, and gladly teche.”