His Sonnets [65] express the feeling that weighed upon him on this account.
Had he not 'gor'd his own thoughts,' revealed his innermost soul? Yet,
now, his narrow-minded fellow-dramatists--but no! not fellow-dramatists:
mere contemporary playwrights, immeasurably far behind him in rank--eaten
up, as they were, with envy and jealous malice, meanly derided everything
sacred to him; holding up his ideals to ridicule before a jeering
crowd. It has long ago been surmised that Sonnet lxvi. belongs to the
'Hamlet' period. But now it will be better understood why that sonnet
speaks of 'a maiden virtue rudely strumpeted; [66] of 'right perfection
wrongfully disgrac'd, and strength by limping sway disabled;' of 'simple
truth miscall'd simplicity.'
These are the full words of this mighty sigh of despair:--
Tir'd with all these, for restful death I cry--
As, to behold desert a beggar born,
And needy nothing trimm'd in jollity,
And purest faith unhappily forsworn,
And gilded honour shamefully misplac'd,
And maiden virtue rudely strumpeted,
And right perfection wrongfully disgrac'd,
And strength by limping sway disabled,
And art made tongue-ty'd by authority,
And folly (doctor-like) controlling skill,
And simple truth miscall'd simplicity,
And captive Good attending captain ill:
Tir'd with all these, from these would I be gone,
Save that, to die, I leave my love alone.
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