Metaphor in Shakespeare's Sonnets

The speaker employs a metaphor that compares the fair youth’s family lineage to a house. Family lines are often referred to as “houses,” especially amongst the nobility. The speaker extends this idea and compares the fair youth’s body to a house that needs upkeep. If the fair youth dies without a male heir, then his house will fall to decay since there will be no one to continue the legacy of his beauty. The specific reference to a son invokes the patrilineal nature of succession in Elizabethan England, where sons inherited the titles and wealth of their fathers, just as the speaker hopes the fair youth’s son will inherit his beauty.

The speaker continues to insist that the fair youth should have a child by crafting a metaphor that compares procreation to print publication and the youth to “nature’s seal.” In order to print a book on a Renaissance-era printing press, developed by Johannes Gutenberg in 1440, metal blocks were carved with letters and symbols, a process that could take hours or days, before being set into the press. Nature “carved” the fair youth so that he would go on to procreate, or “print more” copies of himself, adding an element of obligation to the speaker’s encouragement. It is no longer just the speaker that the fair youth must appease, but nature herself, who took care to “carve” him so beautifully.

The speaker compares his own body to a painter’s studio, with his eyes painting the fair youth and storing the image in his heart. Since the speaker’s heart is filled with love for the fair youth, the fair youth’s visage is a “window” to the interiority of the speaker, evoking the classic conceit of the eyes being windows to the soul. However, there is also the idea that while the speaker is open about his feelings, the fair youth is closed off and simply reflects the speaker’s own feelings back to him. The final lines further emphasize this reality. The speaker admits that, while he has fallen for the beauty of the fair youth, he may not know the fair youth’s heart.

The speaker uses the metaphors of a forgetful actor and a raging beast to convey the state of being unable to portray his feelings accurately. He worries that the depth of his feelings cannot be communicated through words alone and beseeches his beloved to “hear with his eyes” and see the love in the way the speaker looks at him. This is a play on the metaphor that the eyes are the window to the soul, a metaphor found in literature dating back to Roman times. The speaker personifies his loving looks as messengers of his affection that seek out and “plead” with the fair youth. The speaker hopes for “recompense,” or reciprocal affection, from his beloved.

Through this metaphor, Shakespeare compares the pains we initially suffer to a bill that needs to be paid. Regardless of how many times the speaker pays it, the bill returns again and again for payment. The speaker laments the grief he cannot seem to relinquish and the emotional toll of continually recalling past sorrows.

The metaphor of death having a “dateless night” suggests that death cannot be divided into days, weeks, or months. Death, as the speaker intimates, is at once perpetual and eternal and yet also empty of time’s flow, standing as it does outside the chronologies of mortal life.

In a metaphor characteristic of Shakespeare, the speaker draws on a universal human experience. Here, the speaker conjures a terrifying moment of waking up in the middle of the night in a strange, pitch-dark room. The speaker is overcome with a metaphorical blindness even though his eyes are “open wide.”

The verb “to engraft” refers to joining plant tissues to promote growth. In a figurative sense, engrafting describes the process of implanting a notion or idea into another’s mind. In this context, the fair youth engrafts or shares his “store” of positive qualities with the speaker. The speaker, in turn, is made whole by his connection to the fair youth.

Throughout this sonnet, the speaker employs a conceit, or extended metaphor, by comparing the fair youth to the sun. Sonnets 33 through 36 are traditionally called the “estrangement” sonnets, for in them the speaker confronts a fault the fair youth has committed. In this sonnet’s conceit, the sun still shines despite the fair youth’s alleged actions, suggesting the possibility of absolution.

Through the poem’s conceit, the speaker states that, like the sun which may be “stain’d” or tainted by clouds, so too may the fair youth’s illustriousness become darkened by sorrow and affliction.

The verb “gilding” describes the process of overlaying an object with a thin covering of gold. The word “alchemy” refers to the medieval speculative science that aimed to transmute base metals like lead into gold. The metaphor in this line, which employs both of these terms, suggests that the sun has tainted the “pale streams” with a golden hue, in turn indicating the natural beauty of the morning scene.

The first line establishes the conceit of the next two sonnets: the speaker’s eye and heart are engaged in a metaphorical “war” in which both opponents are bent on conquering the fair youth. On the one hand, the eye “bars” the heart from looking at the image of the fair youth. On the other, the heart contends with the eye for the right to look. The theme of adversarial battle is furthered by the use of legal language, which is peppered throughout the sonnet in words like “right,” “plead,” and “verdict.”

Sonnet 48 is built on metaphors of valuables and theft. The speaker expresses concern that someone will steal the fair youth while he is away. The fair youth is compared to a precious possession who makes jewels seem like “trifles.” The speaker laments that he cannot lock the youth away from “vulgar thieves,” instead relying on his affection to protect the youth within the “gentle closure” of his heart. However, the fair youth is such a tempting “prize” that the speaker fears the strength of his love will not be enough to ward off thieves.

Returning to a motif established in Sonnet 1, the speaker compares the fair youth to a rose. The speaker contemplates the fair youth’s inward and outward beauty, likening him to a rose, which not only “looks fair,” it also has a “sweet odour.” Roses without sweet odors are like those with superficial, outward beauty; roses with sweet odours are like those who possess a sincere, inward beauty.

In the continued absence of the fair youth, the speaker furthers his plea for reunification. In Sonnet 52, the speaker compares himself to a miser or penny-pincher who hoards his rich treasures like his “stones of worth,” “captain jewels,” and “robe,” which stand in metaphorically for the fair youth. As the final line of the sonnet indicates, despite his efforts to hoard his treasure, the speaker fails to unite with the fair youth and is left only with hope.

Sonnet 51 continues the conceit of journeying on horse begun in Sonnet 50. The speaker describes how his “desire” is faster than any horse. He desires so fervently to reach the fair youth, that it surpasses the speed of any “dull flesh.” This rapid quality is expressed through the repeated use of words relating to speed, including “swift,” “spir,” “mounted,” “motion,” and “pace.” Since his love is so fleeting, the speaker dismisses the horse in the final line, stating that he’ll run toward his love and “give [the horse] leave to go.”

In a sharp departure from the confidence the speaker has in Sonnet 55, Sonnet 56 describes a “sad interim” of estrangement from the fair youth. The speaker compares himself and the fair youth to people stranded on different shores, separated by the ocean, awaiting each other’s return each day. He also compares their period of estrangement to cold winter awaiting the return of warm summer. Both metaphors serve as hopeful pleas to the fair youth to reject his lustful “appetite” and renew his affections for the speaker so that “the spirit of love” may prove stronger than lust.

The speaker contrasts how onlookers perceive the fair youth’s beauty. Outwardly, the “world’s eye” views the fair youth as beautiful and commendable. However, inwardly, they condemn him for having dubious morals. Through the metaphor of the “rank smell of weeds” permeating a “fair flower,” the speaker describes how perceived inward superficiality can corrupt one’s external appearance. Listening to these “tongues” of public opinion causes the fair youth to grow “common,” or like everyone else.

The speaker again broaches the subject of slander, introduced in the previous sonnet. As Sonnet 69 discusses, the public accuses the fair youth of superficiality. The speaker counters this claim, stating that the public only makes this accusation because they are jealous of his beauty. Through metaphor, the speaker claims that the fair youth’s beauty is suspicious like “a crow that flies in heaven’s sweetest air.” Shakespeare frequently employs the imagery of the crow to describe an omen, as in Macbeth act III, scene II, when Macbeth foreshadows killing Banquo: “...the crow / Makes wing to th’ rooky wood; / Good things of day begin to droop and drowse, / Whiles night’s black agents to their preys do rouse.” The image of the crow often signals something ominous; in the sonnet, it heralds the speaker’s warning to beware false accusations.

The word “exchequer” refers to a treasury office which deals with money collected by the department of revenue. In this sonnet, the speaker uses this word to emphasize the theme of degeneration in nature. Referring to nature as “she,” he laments that nature has become “bankrupt”; her only remaining source of beauty is the fair youth, which she stores to demonstrate her previous “wealth.” This elaborate metaphor pins the beauty of the youth against the slow deterioration of time and nature.

The cruelty of time continues to haunt the speaker as he ruminates on images of decay. “Rich-proud cost of outworn buried age” refers to elaborate burial structures and emphasizes that even the monuments people build to preserve their memories are subject to the ravages of time. The ocean is presented as “hungry” as it advances on the “kingdom of the shore,” conjuring images of an advancing army or siege. Unlike the previous sonnet, in which the speaker fights against Time with his poetry, this sonnet ends on a more pessimistic note. The speaker knows that Time will take his love away and that his poetry, like the burial monuments, is just as susceptible to decay as anything else.

Sonnet 80 incorporates a nautical metaphor to further the rival poet theme. The speaker compares himself to a “saucy bark”—a small, frivolous boat—that is subordinate to the stately and grandiose ship of the rival poet. Both ships sail on the “broad main,” or sea, which represents the fair youth—the source of inspiration for both poets’ works. The speaker believes that his love for the fair youth will inspire him to write, just as the sea will keep his small boat afloat. However, the final couplet takes on a darker tone as the speaker describes his personal shipwreck. Metaphorically speaking, the sea which has kept him afloat also destroys him. The fair youth causes the speaker to “decay” by choosing to support the rival poet.

Perhaps in preparation for the “Rival Poet” sequence in sonnets 78-86, the speaker reaffirms his undying and perpetual love for the fair youth. The volta in line nine culminates in a declaration of the speaker’s love for the fair youth, who provides unyielding inspiration for his poetry. Through the final two lines in the sonnet, the speaker metaphorically compares his love for the fair youth to the sun, which seems new each time it emerges and yet is constant in its cycles. The speaker asserts his love, claiming that he will continue to retell his constant love for the fair youth in each new sonnet.

Each of the three quatrains in this sonnet contains a metaphor for old age. In the first quatrain, the poet compares the point he is at in life to late fall, when the trees are almost totally bare. In the second quatrain, he compares his age to twilight, a time when the sun has set but a little light remains in the sky, with the coming of night representing death. In the third quatrain he compares his age to the glowing remains of a fire being consumed by its own ashes. The closing couplet asserts that the fair youth is better able to love the speaker because the fleeting nature of existence inspires deeper emotional engagement.

In many of Shakespeare’s works, night is metaphorically compared to death, perhaps most notably in Hamlet, in which Prince Hamlet asks “for in that sleep of death what dreams may come?”, and in Macbeth, in which Macbeth praises sleep—“the death of each day’s life”—after murdering King Duncan.

In Sonnet 86, the speaker maintains the same subtle mockery of the previous sonnet. He hyperbolically claims that the rival poet’s verses trample over his own like a fleet of ships and render his poetry “inhearse[d]” in his brain. The speaker negatively associates the rival poet’s success with the supernatural, writing that “spirits” and a “ghost” inspired his verse. The final line suggests that the rival poet’s writing has “enfeebled” the speaker’s literary capabilities—a notion undercut by the poetic acuity of the sonnet itself.

Through the lamb and wolf metaphor, the speaker likens the fair youth’s beauty to the wolf which leads lambs “away,” or to slaughter. The speaker fears that the fair youth’s promiscuity might tarnish his reputation and, in turn, his own reputation as well, since he and the fair youth are one in love.

In the opening lines of Sonnet 115, the speaker admits that all of the previous sonnets have been insufficient portrayals of his true love to the fair youth. His flame, a representation of desirous love, “burn[s] clearer” now than ever before. The sonnet goes on to decry the tyrannical nature of Time, which “creep[s]” in to decay and efface beauty. However, at the volta, the tone of the sonnet shifts as the speaker reins in his fear, asking why he has ever doubted love. Time is irrelevant since love continues to grow indefinitely like a “babe.”

Whereas the speaker’s relationship with the fair youth was emotional and often spiritual, his relationship with the dark lady is sensual. As he watches her play music, he personifies the instrument and grows jealous of it. The jacks “leap to kiss the tender inward of [her] hand” and the speaker envies the fact that the instrument receives her touch rather than him. There was minimal tactile and sensuous imagery in the fair youth sequence, reflecting the chaste and loving nature of that relationship in contrast to the far more physical one between the speaker and the dark lady. The playful, yearning tone of Sonnet 128 contrasts with the grief and shame that consume the speaker in Sonnet 129.

The dominant image throughout the sonnet equates love to “swallow’d bait.” This comparison suggests that like rats and other lowly creature, lovers motivated by uncontrolled lust are driven mad by primal urges.

Sonnet 139 opens with the speaker’s refusal to defend the dark lady’s actions. However, he relents in the third quatrain and excuses her indiscretions by saying that she looks at other men in order to spare the speaker from the “injuries” caused by her “pretty looks.” The speaker’s defences are “o’erpressed’d,” or overburdened, and cannot withstand the “might” of the lady, adding a violent valence to their relationship as the lady lays siege to the speaker’s emotions. The lady’s infidelity continually “wounds” the speaker, so rather than continuing to make a show of looking at other men in his presence, he urges her to “kill [him] outright” by admitting to her affairs.

Sonnet 134 is a continuation of Sonnet 133. The speaker employs a combination of legal and financial diction to give the love between himself, the lady, and the youth a transactional cast. The dark lady is described as a “usurer,” or moneylender, whose currency is sexual in nature. When paired with the idea of a mortgage, the speaker’s offer to “forfeit” himself refers to the act of signing himself over to the lady to pay the youth’s debts. However, the speaker knows the lady will not give up the youth and laments his involvement. The closing couplet takes on a despairing tone: the fair youth is paying both his own debts and the speaker’s, leaving the speaker free from obligation but not from his attraction to the lady.

In Sonnet 147 the speaker explains the extent to which the dark lady has ruined his life. Using medical metaphors—likening his “love” and “reason” to “a fever” and “the physician,” respectively—he acknowledges that his desire has brought him to a place from which there is no return. His reason and logic, which have thus far kept his desires from consuming him, fail at their duty. The metaphor that “desire is death” is complicated. It can be read as a condemnation of desire, playing on the theme that desire and lust lead to one’s downfall. However, considering the medical conceit of this sonnet, “desire is death” could also be a final diagnosis. Where reason is the physician and love is the illness, unrestrained desire is the illness gone to its fullest and most lethal stage.

chThe sonnet’s sestet, the six lines following the volta, trace the speaker’s process of disillusionment with the dark lady. The speaker has placed great faith in the dark lady’s many oaths and promises—“of thy love, thy truth, thy constancy.” The speaker uses the metaphors of vision and perjury to figure the decay of these oaths. The speaker claims to have “enlighten[ed]” the dark lady, making his eyes “swear against the thing they see” and seeing her as better than she really is. In the final couplet, the speaker claims to have committed perjury—testifying against the truth—by having “sworn thee fair.” Thus the dark lady sonnets end: not in resolution and appreciation, but bitterness and disenchantment.

After the volta, the speaker develops a solution to the soul’s problem. Acknowledging the inevitable decay of the body—the “servant’s loss”—the speaker encourages his soul to transform physical loss into spiritual growth, to “within be fed.” In the final couplet, the speaker seeks to transform Death itself in this ravening, expansive process of soul. The logic is strange but coherent: if the soul feeds on decay, then it may “feed on Death”; if the soul continues to do so, Death itself will eventually die, at which point “there’s no more dying.” As a result, the soul’s problem is seemingly solved, allowing it to make a claim on eternity.

Sonnet 146 opens with the poet addressing his soul, asking it a series of questions about why it pursues earthly pleasures rather than caring for its own purity. The sonnet develops an extended metaphor of the body as a mansion, which the soul has “so short a lease” on. Rather than focusing on the state of the soul that lives within the mansion, the speaker has spent “so large [a] cost” on painting the outside and excessively indulging in physical pleasures. The body is on “lease” from Nature, but the soul is eternal, so the speaker beseeches his soul to take the wealth that has been spent on the body and instead store it “within,” so that the soul can “be fed.”