Sonnet 111: O For My Sake Do You With Fortune Chide
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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. Thence comes it that my name receives a brand, And almost thence my nature is subdued To what it works in, like the dyer's hand. Pity me then, and wish I were renewed, Whilst like a willing patient I will drink Potions of eisel gainst my strong infection: No bitterness that I will bitter think, Nor double penance to correct correction. Pity me then, dear friend, and I assure ye Even that your pity is enough to cure me. |
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O for my sake do you with Fortune chide,
The guilty goddess of my harmful deeds |
The opening line of this sonnet is either an observation or a request, and the tone of the sonnet changes somewhat depending on how we read it.
As either, a) It is on my behalf that you rebuke or scold Fortune, the goddess who is to blame for all those things I have done wrong or that I have done to hurt myself and, as will become clearer in a moment, to harm my own reputation; or, b) Please do rebuke or scold Fortune on my behalf, for the same reason. What doesn't change is that William Shakespeare sees Fortuna, the goddess of good fortune and luck, as responsible for the fact that – as he is about to explain – his name is now famous and with this fame also therefore now tarnished, because then as today, the more famous you are, the more people will talk about you, and the more people talk about you, the more they will say things that are either untrue or deliberately intended to harm you: what they say about you will not always and only be charitable, irrespective of who or what you are, as virtually anyone who lives in the public eye today can attest to. The Quarto Edition here has "O For my sake doe you wish fortune chide," but that really makes no sense, and also the long s in use at the time is so close to a t that a typesetting error seems more than likely. Most editors therefore emend this to 'with', a practice that I gladly follow here. |
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That did not better for my life provide
Than public means, which public manners breeds. |
You chide with her, or please do chide with her – the goddess of Fortune – who provided nothing better for me and for my life than public means, meaning ways of earning a living that are carried out in the public eye, such as writing increasingly famous plays and working as an actor on the stage. And these activities that are carried out in the public eye do therefore by necessity 'breed' 'public manners', meaning they lead one to conduct oneself in a correspondingly 'public' and therefore visible and commented-upon way, as opposed to, say, a demure, private one.
The suggestion obviously is that these are essentially bad manners that do not become an English gentleman, let alone one who is seen with and known to enjoy the company of an English nobleman, such as the young lover almost certainly is. What Shakespeare is saying, effectively, is that while lucky enough to be successful and thus in the public eye, he is also unlucky enough to be in the public eye and thus to have acquired a lifestyle that goes with it: he is, one might say, a 'celebrity' now, and therefore subject to gossip and scandal. And he may well, at the same time, also be telling his younger lover – who was born into an infinitely more privileged lifestyle – that not everybody can be as fortunate as he. |
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Thence comes it that my name receives a brand,
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It is because of this, because I have to live my life in the public eye and earn my living by these public means, that my name is branded or tarnished.
Today we may almost think of 'Shakespeare' as a brand in the contemporary sense of a label, but he here refers to the ancient practice – still very much in use in Shakespeare's England – of literally branding a criminal with a hot iron to visibly and durably mark them as someone who can't be trusted. |
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And almost thence my nature is subdued
To what it works in, like the dyer's hand. |
And it is because of this that my nature, my whole being, is subjected or reduced to the matter it works with; much as the dyer's hands over time get discoloured as they take on the hue of the dyes they work with, so my character takes on the tarnished colour of he world I have to work in, which in Shakespeare's case very obviously and clearly is the theatre.
And it is worth reminding ourselves here that the world of the theatre, though wildly popular and attracting huge audiences on a daily basis, was also frowned upon, disparaged, and considered, by many, as no better than the world of beggars, vagabonds, and prostitutes. A slight complication for us arises from the placing of the word 'almost'. It sounds like this relates to 'thence', which would then mean that it is 'almost as a result of this that my nature is subdued', but editors generally agree that it is far more likely to relate to 'subdued', thus yielding that 'because of this it is also the case that my whole being is almost in this way subdued.' What is implied, and strongly, by 'subdued' and the whole sonnet, is that Shakespeare feels his nature – his character, his person – to be brought low by his public way of life. |
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Pity me then, and wish I were renewed,
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And so, pity me, and wish me that I could be renewed, meaning that I could shed this mark upon my person, heal this brand that I have received, and thus effectively become 'new' and by implication 'clean' and 'untarnished' again...
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Whilst like a willing patient I will drink
Potions of eisel gainst my strong infection, |
...whilst I on my part will do what a patient does who is eager to heal and to cleanse their body and mind of the sickness that has befallen them, even if that entails drinking potions of bitter medicine that may ward off such a strong contamination or infection as mine.
'Eisel' – which you will also come across spelt 'eisell' or 'eysell' is an old term for vinegar and so 'potions of eisel' are medicinal concoctions made with or in vinegar; they will therefore certainly taste bitter, but: |
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No bitterness that I will bitter think,
Nor double penance to correct correction. |
There is no level or degree of bitterness which I will consider bitter, nor will I consider any level or degree of penance imposed on me to be too much – double what it should be – if it serves to properly put things right that were wrong: in other words, I will not protest that one measure of penance is enough and I am now in my 'harmful deeds' corrected, if further penance can correct me even further.
'Correction' here has a strong moral and judicial sense, much as it used to be used in North American English to mean "punishment, especially that of criminals in prison, intended to rectify their behaviour." (Oxford Languages) |
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Pity me then, dear friend, and I assure ye
Even that your pity is enough to cure me. |
And so in view of my whole predicament – namely that is both my good and my bad fortune that made me who I am and that forced upon me this affliction that I have – and in view also of my willingness to do whatever it takes to mend my ways and restore my reputation – pity me, dear friend, and I assure you that that in itself is enough to cure me.
Which would suggest that neither bitter medicine nor any form of chastisement is truly necessary, just so long as I have your pity. PRONUNCIATION: Note that Even here is pronounced as one syllable: E'en. |
With Sonnet 111, William Shakespeare shifts focus from his infidelities in relation to his younger lover, addressed in the previous two sonnets, to a general deficiency in his reputation, which he blames squarely on the fact that his circumstances require him to earn a living in the public sphere. This, he claims, has led him to acquire the conduct of a person who attracts opprobrium, and while proposing to subject himself to whatever 'medicine' or 'penance' may be required of him, he sees and seeks his remedy first and foremost in the younger man's pity. This, he assures him, will suffice to cure him of any ills he may suffer resulting from any such misdeeds as come with the lifestyle his fortunes have imposed on him.
Much as Sonnets 109 and 110 coalesced as a loosely but nonetheless clearly tied pair around Shakespeare's having 'ranged' and 'gone here and there', but having now returned to his 'home of love' with the young lover affirmed as 'a god in love' to whom he is 'confined' and therefore the only one who matters, so Sonnets 111 and 112 similarly develop an argument over two semi-independent poems that each can be read and understood on its own but that very obviously form a thematic arc spanning over the by now famous writer's reputation and concluding that all that matters to Shakespeare is what the young man thinks of him and pleading with him, therefore, to continue to favour him with pity and love.
Although neither Sonnet 111 nor Sonnet 112 contains any direct, tangible clues as to when it was composed, they both find themselves in a position in the collection that is congruent with Shakespeare having by now established himself sufficiently to be noted and to actually have a reputation that may suffer from slander or scandal. And both these sonnets make it clear beyond reasonable doubt that this is what has happened, though from neither of them do we learn why or exactly how.
Following on, as it does, directly from the infidelity of Sonnets 109 and 110, it is entirely possible, so as not to say likely, that the 'harmful deeds' referred to in this poem are related to the 'ranging' and the 'going here and there' of the previous two sonnets. But we can't be sure. What is clear is that William Shakespeare is aware that his name has 'received a brand' as a result of such 'harmful deeds' as he has committed, and that he sees these deeds as inherent in being a figure who works in the public domain.
This, we should in all likelihood see as in contrast to a figure who is also in the public eye, but not forced to earn a living there and therefore far less susceptible to, let alone dependent on, public opinion.
Because, although always and forever furnished with the caveat that a residual level of uncertainty must remain, we can assume with greatest attainable likelihood that William Shakespeare's younger lover is also known to 'the world' of London society and therefore also finds himself to some extent in the public eye, with his conduct therefore scrutinised, though not so much necessarily by the public at large, as by the circle of friends and the higher level of society to which he belongs.
Several sonnets have alluded to this, most emphatically Sonnets 69 & 70 which first directly accuse the young lover of diminishing himself by growing 'common' in Sonnet 69 and then absolve him of any wrongdoing in Sonnet 70, positing that the more innocent a person is, the more likely they are to attract malicious slander.
And so there is a distinction apparently or possibly being made between someone who is in the public eye as an aristocrat, who doesn't need to care too much about what the public thinks, unless he goes really quite far in his behaviour, and someone who is forced by his profession to expose himself to the public, such as an actor/playwright and who is dependent on leading his life at least partly in the public sphere.
What is telling about this sonnet – and Sonnet 112 will not fundamentally change this – is that Shakespeare doesn't actually make any apology for, nor does he deny, such behaviour as may be considered, by the outside world, to be reprehensible and therefore may merit characterisation as 'harmful deeds'.
If – as most editors either actively do or acknowledge as generally being done – we associate Shakespeare's 'public means' with his professional life in the theatre, and bearing in mind as we did a moment ago just how low in esteem the profession of the actor in particular was held – even if it received patronage from the King himself – then what Shakespeare seems to be saying is that the way I have been conducting myself, the way I have been behaving just comes with the territory, even if that entails affairs and random sexual encounters, possibly with other young men: what I need you to do now is pity me for having been put into such a predicament as mine in the first place
And this begs the question: is there a subtle – or perhaps even not so subtle – apportioning of blame or at least shared culpability contained in these lines for the young lover? If he – as virtually everything we can know about him points towards – is a young nobleman in any case, but most particularly if he is the young nobleman who has patronised Shakespeare's work in the past and then landed himself in prison for ill-judged political manoeuvrings, namely Henry Wriothesley, 3rd Earl of Southampton, then Shakespeare almost seems to either consciously or subconsciously also be pointing a finger at him and saying: if you had kept yourself out of trouble and out of prison and in a position to properly support me, then none of this would have happened...
This is of course highly speculative. The words themselves of this sonnet, which must be our firm guiding rail for reading it and for reading anything into it that may be reasonably inferred, go nowhere near as far as that. What the words of this sonnet do, however, is ask the recipient directly to show and bestow pity. And they do so in as unabashed and as we find them to be really unapologetic a way as the previous two sonnets admitted to philandering. The tone of this sonnet is not, I am so deeply sorry for what I have done, but I just couldn't help it, please please forgive me and continue to love me', it is way more confident and assured than that. It is saying, yes, that's the way it is, that's how life has panned out, but you are still the one for me and you are the one who can make me not care about my own flaws and faults, by not caring about them either, by seeing beyond them and taking me for who I am.
Which makes this sonnet quite an astonishingly bold move: it once again affirms the younger lover as the most important person in Shakespeare's life, certainly in his love life, and it sets the scene for Sonnet 112 which will pick up on the theme of pity and love and declare even more categorically: "You are my all the world," and may well be going quite an extraordinary step further, even, than that...
Much as Sonnets 109 and 110 coalesced as a loosely but nonetheless clearly tied pair around Shakespeare's having 'ranged' and 'gone here and there', but having now returned to his 'home of love' with the young lover affirmed as 'a god in love' to whom he is 'confined' and therefore the only one who matters, so Sonnets 111 and 112 similarly develop an argument over two semi-independent poems that each can be read and understood on its own but that very obviously form a thematic arc spanning over the by now famous writer's reputation and concluding that all that matters to Shakespeare is what the young man thinks of him and pleading with him, therefore, to continue to favour him with pity and love.
Although neither Sonnet 111 nor Sonnet 112 contains any direct, tangible clues as to when it was composed, they both find themselves in a position in the collection that is congruent with Shakespeare having by now established himself sufficiently to be noted and to actually have a reputation that may suffer from slander or scandal. And both these sonnets make it clear beyond reasonable doubt that this is what has happened, though from neither of them do we learn why or exactly how.
Following on, as it does, directly from the infidelity of Sonnets 109 and 110, it is entirely possible, so as not to say likely, that the 'harmful deeds' referred to in this poem are related to the 'ranging' and the 'going here and there' of the previous two sonnets. But we can't be sure. What is clear is that William Shakespeare is aware that his name has 'received a brand' as a result of such 'harmful deeds' as he has committed, and that he sees these deeds as inherent in being a figure who works in the public domain.
This, we should in all likelihood see as in contrast to a figure who is also in the public eye, but not forced to earn a living there and therefore far less susceptible to, let alone dependent on, public opinion.
Because, although always and forever furnished with the caveat that a residual level of uncertainty must remain, we can assume with greatest attainable likelihood that William Shakespeare's younger lover is also known to 'the world' of London society and therefore also finds himself to some extent in the public eye, with his conduct therefore scrutinised, though not so much necessarily by the public at large, as by the circle of friends and the higher level of society to which he belongs.
Several sonnets have alluded to this, most emphatically Sonnets 69 & 70 which first directly accuse the young lover of diminishing himself by growing 'common' in Sonnet 69 and then absolve him of any wrongdoing in Sonnet 70, positing that the more innocent a person is, the more likely they are to attract malicious slander.
And so there is a distinction apparently or possibly being made between someone who is in the public eye as an aristocrat, who doesn't need to care too much about what the public thinks, unless he goes really quite far in his behaviour, and someone who is forced by his profession to expose himself to the public, such as an actor/playwright and who is dependent on leading his life at least partly in the public sphere.
What is telling about this sonnet – and Sonnet 112 will not fundamentally change this – is that Shakespeare doesn't actually make any apology for, nor does he deny, such behaviour as may be considered, by the outside world, to be reprehensible and therefore may merit characterisation as 'harmful deeds'.
If – as most editors either actively do or acknowledge as generally being done – we associate Shakespeare's 'public means' with his professional life in the theatre, and bearing in mind as we did a moment ago just how low in esteem the profession of the actor in particular was held – even if it received patronage from the King himself – then what Shakespeare seems to be saying is that the way I have been conducting myself, the way I have been behaving just comes with the territory, even if that entails affairs and random sexual encounters, possibly with other young men: what I need you to do now is pity me for having been put into such a predicament as mine in the first place
And this begs the question: is there a subtle – or perhaps even not so subtle – apportioning of blame or at least shared culpability contained in these lines for the young lover? If he – as virtually everything we can know about him points towards – is a young nobleman in any case, but most particularly if he is the young nobleman who has patronised Shakespeare's work in the past and then landed himself in prison for ill-judged political manoeuvrings, namely Henry Wriothesley, 3rd Earl of Southampton, then Shakespeare almost seems to either consciously or subconsciously also be pointing a finger at him and saying: if you had kept yourself out of trouble and out of prison and in a position to properly support me, then none of this would have happened...
This is of course highly speculative. The words themselves of this sonnet, which must be our firm guiding rail for reading it and for reading anything into it that may be reasonably inferred, go nowhere near as far as that. What the words of this sonnet do, however, is ask the recipient directly to show and bestow pity. And they do so in as unabashed and as we find them to be really unapologetic a way as the previous two sonnets admitted to philandering. The tone of this sonnet is not, I am so deeply sorry for what I have done, but I just couldn't help it, please please forgive me and continue to love me', it is way more confident and assured than that. It is saying, yes, that's the way it is, that's how life has panned out, but you are still the one for me and you are the one who can make me not care about my own flaws and faults, by not caring about them either, by seeing beyond them and taking me for who I am.
Which makes this sonnet quite an astonishingly bold move: it once again affirms the younger lover as the most important person in Shakespeare's life, certainly in his love life, and it sets the scene for Sonnet 112 which will pick up on the theme of pity and love and declare even more categorically: "You are my all the world," and may well be going quite an extraordinary step further, even, than that...
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If you spot a mistake or if you have any comments or suggestions, please use the contact page to get in touch.
To be kept informed of developments, please subscribe to the email list.
If you would like to donate, you can do so here. Thank you!