Jacob joins me for our penultimate sonnet in this series of 4! As well as deconstructing Sonnet 102, we discuss distressing story of Philomel and her importance to Shakespeare.

Sonnet 102

My love is strengthen'd, though more weak in seeming;
I love not less, though less the show appear;
That love is merchandized whose rich esteeming
The owner's tongue doth publish everywhere.
Our love was new, and then but in the spring
When I was wont to greet it with my lays;
As Philomel in summer's front doth sing,
And stops her pipe in growth of riper days:
Not that the summer is less pleasant now
Than when her mournful hymns did hush the night,
But that wild music burthens every bough
And sweets grown common lose their dear delight.
Therefore like her, I sometime hold my tongue,
Because I would not dull you with my song.

The AI Generation of The Fair Youth: https://drive.google.com/file/d/1meE-QvZMGa_dIeZR_0fxngX-1EOY1bCs/view?usp=sharing

Jacob Fortune-Lloyd joins me again to explore Sonnet 101. It's a dense one so strap in!

Sonnet 101

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 fixed;
Beauty no pencil, beauty's truth to lay;
But best is best, if never intermixed'?
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.
Then do thy office, Muse; I teach thee how
To make him seem, long hence, as he shows now.

We've hit 100 and to celebrate I am joined by friend of the podcast and esteemed actor Jacob Fortune-Lloyd for the next 4 sonnets! You might have seen him in The Queens Gambit, Bodies or Midas Man. You might even have seen him at the RSC if you like your Shakespeare!

I've attached the link to our AI generated Shakespeare, enjoy!

I got 99 Problems but this sonnet ain't one. .. But it is a little bit weird because it has 15 lines. Shakespeare takes flower personification to the next level.

Our story continues with a trip to Vauxhall Pleasure Gardens.

Join me as I delve into the meaning of Shakespeare's Sonnet 98. We discuss Shakespeare's use of the seasons and his particular hatred of winter as well as diving into why he is comparing his lover to spring flowers. Our story continues with Christopher Marlowe's escape of Shakespeare's holiday cottage!

Shakespeare compares his love to the seasons... again. Our story continues with Shakespeare and Marlowe visiting Shakespeare's infamous holiday cottage.

Sonnet 97

How like a winter hath my absence been
From thee, the pleasure of the fleeting year!
What freezings have I felt, what dark days seen!
What old December's bareness everywhere!
And yet this time removed was summer's time;
The teeming autumn, big with rich increase,
Bearing the wanton burden of the prime,
Like widow'd wombs after their lords' decease:
Yet this abundant issue seemed to me
But hope of orphans, and unfathered fruit;
For summer and his pleasures wait on thee,
And, thou away, the very birds are mute:
Or, if they sing, 'tis with so dull a cheer,
That leaves look pale, dreading the winter's near.

Shakespeare uses a couple of good metaphors in this one to drive his point home. Good on ya William!

Sonnet 96

Some say thy fault is youth, some wantonness;
Some say thy grace is youth and gentle sport;
Both grace and faults are lov'd of more and less:
Thou mak'st faults graces that to thee resort.
As on the finger of a throned queen
The basest jewel will be well esteem'd,
So are those errors that in thee are seen
To truths translated, and for true things deem'd.
How many lambs might the stern wolf betray,
If like a lamb he could his looks translate!
How many gazers mightst thou lead away,
If thou wouldst use the strength of all thy state!
But do not so, I love thee in such sort,
As thou being mine, mine is thy good report.

Shakespeare is still worried his lover is cheating on him and gives him a warning!

Our story continues with an almighty confrontation.

Sonnet 95

How sweet and lovely dost thou make the shame
Which, like a canker in the fragrant rose,
Doth spot the beauty of thy budding name!
O! in what sweets dost thou thy sins enclose.
That tongue that tells the story of thy days,
Making lascivious comments on thy sport,
Cannot dispraise, but in a kind of praise;
Naming thy name blesses an ill report.
O! what a mansion have those vices got
Which for their habitation chose out thee,
Where beauty's veil doth cover every blot
And all things turns to fair that eyes can see!
Take heed, dear heart, of this large privilege;
The hardest knife ill-used doth lose his edge.