Platonism in English poetry of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries
Plato · en
In a second lyric, “A Song to Amoret,” he describes his love as superior
to that which a “mighty amorist” could give, because it is a love that
was born with his soul in heaven.
“For all these arts I’d not believe,
—No, though he should be thine—
The mighty amorist could give
So rich a heart as mine.
“Fortune and beauty thou might find,
And greater men than I:
By my true resolvèd mind
They never shall come nigh.
“For I not for an hour did love,
Or for a day desire,
But with my soul had from above
This endless, holy fire.”
(Stzs. 4–6.)
Thus far the tenets of Platonic theory have been used in a more or less
direct way; but in several instances the Platonic idea is present only
in the writer’s mind, and the reader is left to unravel it by his own
ingenuity. Thus Shakespeare urges his friend to marry because in his
death truth and beauty will both end—a possible inference being that his
friend is ideal beauty.
“Not from the stars do I my judgment pluck;
And yet methinks I have Astronomy,
But not to tell of good, or evil luck,
Of plagues, of dearths, or seasons’ quality;
Nor can I fortune to brief minutes tell,
Pointing to each his thunder, rain and wind,
Or say with Princes if it shall go well,
By oft predict that I in heaven find:
But from thine eyes my knowledge I derive,
And, constant stars, in them I read such art
As truth and beauty shall together thrive,
If from thyself to store thou wouldst convert;
Or else of thee this I prognosticate:
Thy end is Truth’s and Beauty’s doom and date.”
(xiv.)
In another sonnet Shakespeare plays with words in an attempt to excuse
his truant muse for not praising his friend’s beauty. His muse may say
that since his friend is true beauty he needs no praise.
“O truant Muse, what shall be thy amends
For thy neglect of truth in beauty dyed?
Both truth and beauty on my love depends;
So dost thou too, and therein dignified.
Make answer, Muse; wilt thou not haply say
‘Truth needs no colour with his colour fix’d;
Beauty no pencil, beauty’s truth to lay;
But best is best, if never intermix’d?’”
But so closely identified is the praise of his friend’s beauty with the
immortality conferred by poetry that Shakespeare cannot justly excuse
the silence of his muse
“Because he needs no praise, wilt thou be dumb?
Excuse not silence so; for’t lies in thee
To make him much outlive a gilded tomb,
And to be praised of ages yet to be.”
(ci.)