Shakespeare's "The Phoenix and Turtle"

George Washington University

Shakespeare's "The Phoenix and Turtle"Author(s): Ronald BatesSource: Shakespeare Quarterly, Vol. 6, No. 1 (Winter, 1955), pp. 19-30Published by: Folger Shakespeare Library in association with George Washington UniversityStable URL: http://www.jstor.org/stable/2866049 .

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Shakespeare's "The Phoenix and Turtle"

RONALD BATES

HERE are few English poems more enigmatic than Shake- speare's "The Phoenix and Turtle". This fact, obvious from a single reading, is further emphasized by the relative paucity of studies devoted to its elucidation.' Moreover, a good deal of the criticism has been concentrated on the more external aspects; the occasion of the work and the actual persons sym-

bolized by Phoenix and Turtle have so taken up scholarly interest as to leave the poem itself a relative mystery. Yet, even if it could be proved beyond a doubt that the Phoenix was meant to "shadow forth", say, Lady Bedford, this historical fact would not in any aesthetically satisfactory way elucidate the main problem: the particular poem by Shakespeare and its particular effect on the reader. In this essay I do not claim to have completely solved the problem, but by a closer attention to the poem, in relation to Shakespeare's work as a whole, I have attempted to clear up some previous critical errors-for example, the identity of "the bird of loudest lay"-and to indicate certain relations with his other works that may help us understand to some degree Shakespeare's strange and unique tone in "The Phoenix and Turtle".

To begin with, the poem is divided into three quite distinct sections: the funeral party (stanza I-5), the anthem (stanzas 6-I3), and the threnos (stanzas 14-i8). The reader's problems begin at once with the first section. Which is "the bird of loudest lay"is a question to which various answers have been given, none very satisfactory. Grosart, for instance, suggested the nightingale, although his remark that other critics may have other choices seems to imply some doubt on his own part. Shahani and Bonnard, however, accept the nightingale with no apparent hesitation. Fairchild, leaning too heavily on his hypothesis that Shake- speare drew on The Parlement of Foules for the first five stanzas, came to the conclusion that the bird must be the crane, "the geaunt, with his trompes soune",

The following are the main studies of "The Phoenix and Turtle" which I have consulted. Cunningham, J. V. "'Essence' and the Phoenix and Turtle". ELH, XIX (1952), 265-276. Bonnard, G. "Shakespeare's Contribution to R. Chester's 'Love's Martyr'". English Studies,

XIX (1937), 66-6g. Fairchild, A.H.R. "'The Phoenix and turtle'. A critical and historical interpretation". Eng-

lische Studien, XXXIII (1904), 337-384. Grosart, A. B. Robert Chester's "Love's Matyr" . . . New Shakespere Society. Series VIII,

#2, I878. Newdigate, B. H. "The Phoenix and the Turtle. Was Lady Bedford the Phoenix?" TLS,

XXXV (24 October 1936), 862. Newdigate, B. H. [Letter in reply to R. W. Short's letter.] TLS, XXXVI (20 February i937),

131.

Shahani, Ranjee G. "The Phoenix and the Turtle", Notes and Queries, CXa (5946), 99-sos, 120-123.

Short, R. W. [Letter about Newdigate's article.] TLS, XXXVI (13 February 1937), III.

Wolff, Max J. "Zum 'Phoenix and Turtle'" Englische Studien, LXVII (1932-33), 159.



20 SHAKFSPEARE QUARTERLY

as Chaucer described him. Basically, two methods of analysis are represented by all this, if we consider the text as the central point. Grosart examines stanza *one, with its key descriptive words, "loudest lay", "herald", "trumpet", and 4'chaste wings", and then considers what bird these words suggest to him. He relies greatly on "chaste wings", which, for him, give a wonderfully accu- rate picture of the nightingale in flight. (That he is confused here is obvious. The "chaste wings" do not belong to "the bird of loudest lay", but are obedient to it.) Fairchild examines the same stanza, and the same key words, and then, on the sole basis of what another poet has written in one other poem-with the consequent reliance, in this case, on "trumpet"-gets an entirely different bird to fill the role. There seems to me to be only one alternative, especially after A. E. Armstrong, in Shakespeare's Imagery, has shown what can be learned about Shakespeare's use of language. Let us examine the words in "The Phoenix and Turtle", not merely in relation to our reaction to them, or Chaucer's use of them, but in the light of how Shakespeare uses them at other times. In order further to validate our method, let us first start with the known, before proceeding to our problem; let us examine the "crow", the "swan", and the "eagle", then the "shrieking harbinger" and finally "the bird of loudest lay".

There are thirty-one other occurrences of "crow" (the bird) in the works of Shakespeare. Nine times its carrion role is emphasized, e.g.:

And made a prey for carrion kites and crows. (2 Henry VI V.ii.i i)

Nine times "crow" is used in a setting of evil, e.g.:

. . .Light thickens, and the crow Makes wing to the rooky wood.

(Macbeth III-ii.50-50)

or in an evil or depreciatory sense, e.g.:

E'en a crow of the same nest; greater . . . in evil. (All's Well That Ends Well IV.iii.282-284)

Seven times it figures as a color and value contrast:

Compare her face with some that I shall shew, And I will make thee think thy swan a crow.

(Romeo and Juliet I.ii.88-89)

So shows a snowy dove trooping with crows. (Romeo and Juliet I.v.50)

That pure congealed white, high Taurus' snow, Fann'd with the eastern wind, turns to a crow, When thou hold'st up thy hand.

(A Midsummer Night's Dream III.ii.14I-I43)

....... so With the dove of Paphos might the crow Vie feathers white.

(Pericles IV. Gower, 3I-33)



SHAKESPEARE'S "THE PHOENIX AND TURTLE" 2I

Lawn, as white as driven snow; Cyprus black as e'er was crow.

(The Winter's Tale IV.iv.220-22I)

The crow may bathe his coal-black wings in mire, And unperceiv'd fly with the filth away; But if the like the snow-white swan desire, The stain upon his silver down will stay.

(The Rape of Lucrece ioo9-ioi2)

....... the day or night, The crow or dove.

(Sonnet CXIII, II-I2)

Considering "crow", then, in terms of Shakespeare's employment of it throughout his work, the reason for its appearance as a mourner is clear. Because of its funereal color it is naturally appropriate in the setting. It is also, on two occasions, coupled with the swan; so it is not over strange that in our poem the crow of stanza five should follow the swan of stanza four. Its carrion aspect, of course, for which Shakespeare mainly employs it, most directly brings it into this death scene.

There are thirteen other occurrences of "swan" and "swan-like". Four times the swan's death song is the reference, e.g.:

. ..... I will play the swan, And die in music.

(Othello V.ii.247-248)

Three times it is used for its color, and each time the black-white contrast is made. Two of the three references couple swan and crow (cf. above) and in the third it is the swan's own black legs that are mentioned.

The "eagle", by itself, and in such compounds as "eagle-sighted", appears thirty-eight other times, mainly in its conventional role as king of the birds and therefore as a figure representing nobility and bravery. One particular occurrence, however, is rather interesting:

The eagle suffers little birds to sing. (Titus Andronicus IV.iv.83)

In stanza three, all birds of "tyrant wing" are specifically excluded from the gathering, with the single exception of the eagle. It is most appropriate for the king of the birds to be present at the funeral of such paragons as the Phoenix and the Turtle, and, as he would not tyrannize over the other birds, it would be safe as well.

Now, applying our method to stanza two, we shall trace not only "owl" but four of the important words in the stanza: "shrieking", "harbinger", "pre- currer" and "augur".

"Shrieking" occurs three other times, always in contexts of fear, and once in connection with the owl:

And yesterday the bird of night did sit Even at noon-day upon the market-place, Hooting and shrieking.

(Julius Caesar I.iii.26-28)



22 SHAKESPEARE QUARTERLY

"Shrieked" occurs three times, twice with reference to the owl:

The owl shriek'd at thy birth-an evil sign. (3 Henry VI V.vi.44)

It was the owl that shriek'd, the fatal bellman. (Macbeth II.ii.3)

"Shriek" occurs twelve other times, in connection with ghosts, death, madness, fear, and, twice, of interest to us:

For night-owls shriek where mounting larks should sing. (King Richard II III.iii.i83)

The owl, night's herald, shrieks, ........ (Venus and Adonis 53I)

The owl then is the only bird described as shrieking. There are five other occurrences of "harbinger":

Apparel vice like virtue's harbinger. (The Comedy of Errors III.ii.i2)

And yonder shines Aurora's harbinger; At whose approach, ghosts, wand'ring here and there, Troop home to church-yards.

(A Midsummer Night's Dream III.ii.380-382)

I'll be myself the harbinger, and make joyful The hearing of my wife with your approach.

(Macbeth I.iv.45-46) Make all our trumpets speak; give them all breath, Those clamorous harbingers of blood and death.

(Macbeth V.vi.9-io)

And even the like precurse of fierce events, As harbingers preceding still the fates And prologue to the omen coming on.

(Hamlet I.i.I2I-123)

In each case the word is found in contexts of death or evil. Even in A Mid- summer Night's Dream it is connected with the idea of ghosts of the dead.

"Precurse" only appears once, and then it is associated with "harbingers" (cf. Hamlet reference above). "Precursors" is used once, also, in a context of fear and a setting of natural upheaval:

.......... Jove's lightnings, the precursors 0' the dreadful thunder-claps.

(The Tempest I.ii.201,202)

There are nine other occurrences of "augurs", "augury", "augurers" and "auguring", six of these in contexts of ill-omen, eg.:

Augurs, and understood relations, have By maggot-pies, and choughs, and rooks, brought forth The secret'st man of blood.

(Macbeth III.iv.124-126)



SHAKESPEARE'S "THE PHOENIX AND TURTLE" 23

Not a whit, we defy augury; there is a special providence in the fall of a sparrow. (Hamlet V.ii.223-224)

Finally, there are thirty-one occurrences of "owl", "night-owl" and "screech- owl", used as abusive terms, and in contexts of evil omen and death, sixteen times. Seven instances are of interest to us:

For night-owls shriek where mounting larks should sing. (King Richard II JJJ.iii.i83)

Thou ominous and fearful owl of death. (i Henry VI IV.ii.I5)

The owl shriek'd at thy birth-an evil sign. (3 Henry VI V.vi.44)

Bring forth that fatal screech-owl to our house, That nothing sung but death to us and ours.

(3 Henry VI JJ.vi.56-57)

. ......... . here nothing breeds, Unless the nightly owl or fatal raven.

(Titus Andronicus II.iii.96-97)

It was the owl that shriek'd, the fatal bellman. (Macbeth II.ii.3)

The owl, night's herald, shrieks,.... (Venus and Adonis 53 I)

A consideration of all this evidence indicates that, in terms of the uses Shakespeare makes of our five words, the bird of stanza two is the owl. Whether or not Shakespeare intended to depict the owl and whether or not any particular reader feels that the words of the stanza depict the owl, cannot really affect the question at all. At this level we are only interested in the specific words and what express connections exist between them and various birds. In the "augur" cluster the birds mentioned once are "maggot-pies", "choughs", "rooks", and "a sparrow". In the "precurse" and in the "harbinger" clusters no birds appear. In the "shriek" cluster "owl" appears twice, "night-owl" once and "bird of night" once. When we examine the "owl", "night-owl" and "screech-owl" contexts, finally, and find that they are employed predominantly with reference to the birds' "shriek", their "evil sign", and their associations with death, our point is made.

Turning to stanza one let us examine the words "lay", "herald", "trumpet" and "loudest". "Lay" occurs some one hundred and fifty times, mainly of course as the verb. It is used only seven times with the meaning of a song, three of which are of interest here:

Pull'd the poor wretch from her melodious lay To muddy death.

(Hamlet IV.vii.i83-i84)

When I was wont to greet it with my lays As Philomel in summer's front doth sing.

(Sonnet CTT.6-7)




While Philomel sits and sings, I sit and mark, And wish her lays were tuned like the lark.

(The Passionate Pilgrim XV.5-6)

There are thirty-nine other occurrences of "herald", mainly with the cus- tomary meaning of messenger, or as the verb. Only twice is "herald" applied to birds:

It was the lark, the herald of the morn. (Romeo and Juliet III.v.6)

The owl, night's herald, shrieks.... (Venus and Adonis 53I)

There are some ninety other occurrences of "trumpet", only once descriptive of a bird:

....... . . I have heard, The cock, that is the trumpet to the morn, Doth with his lofty and shrill-sounding throat Awake the god of day.

(Hamlet I.i.I49-I52)

In this series of quotations we find four birds, the owl or screech-owl, the nightingale, the lark, and the cock. The owl can of course be rejected as the bird in stanza one. The nightingale, which has tended to be the general choice of critics, is used twelve other times, and Philomel, or Philomela, also appears twelve other times, in nine of which, however, the reference is more directly to the mythological figure than to the bird. The nightingale generally appears for its sweet song, e.g.:

She sings as sweetly as a nightingale. (The Taming of the Shrew II.i.I7I)

It is difficult to see how the "sweet" singer could be described as either a "trumpet" or "the bird of loudest lay". In this connection, one other point may be considered. The swan and crow, birds of stanzas four and five, are a pair in contrast (white and black) and are used on a number of occasions in this way. There is also, I feel, an implied contrast between the birds of stanzas one and two, and as the owl is the bird of night, I suggest that a bird of day is the logical bird of stanza one. As the nightingale is definitely a night bird-for example, "The nightingale, if she should sing by day" (The Merchant of Venice V.i.1o4)-she can also be rejected.

What we are left with then is a choice between the lark and the cock. Only one bird is called a herald, the lark; only one bird is called a trumpet, the cock. The cock is once referred to as crowing "loud". The lark appears once in connection with "lay". We must examine the "cock" and "lark" clusters more closely.

There are twenty-eight other occurrences of "lark". Ten times its song is referred to, e.g.:

And wish her lays were tuned like the lark. (The Passionate Pilgrim XV.6)




It is the lark that sings so out of tune, Straining harsh discords and unpleasing sharps.

(Romeo and Juliet III.v.27-28)

The crow doth sing as sweetly as the lark When neither is attended, . . .

(The Merchant of Venice V.i.102-103)

Ten times it is used in contexts of time, particularly morning, e.g.:

Did ever raven sing so like a lark, That gives sweet tidings of the sun's uprise?

(Titus Andronicus III.i.I58-i59)

I do hear the morning lark. (A Midsummer Night's Dream IV.i.97)

The night to the owl and morn to the lark less welcome. (Cymbeline III.vi.94)

Four times its soaring or mounting flight is described, e.g.:

For night-owls shriek where mounting larks should sing. (King Richard II III.iii.i83)

There are twenty-four other occurrences of "cock" (the bird). Ten times its crowing is referred to, e.g.:

You were wont, when you laughed, to crow like a cock. (Two Gentlemen of Verona II.i.25)

It was about to speak, when the cock crew. (Hamlet I.i.I47)

Six times it is used in time or morning contexts, e.g.:

. T..... .he early village cock, Hath twice done salutation to the morn.

(King Richard Ill V.iii.209-2Io)

The country cocks do crow, the clocks do toll, And the third hour of drowsy morning name.

(King Henry V IV. Prol.i5-i6)

The cock, that is the trumpet to the morn. (Hamlet I.i.i5o)

On the purely quantitative grounds of previous occurrence either lark or cock would seem to fit stanza one. However, the bird of stanza one has the "loudest lay", its voice is likened to the sound of a "trumpet" and definitely called a "sound" rather than a song -where either would fit the meter-, and the bird is pictured as perched "on the sole Arabian tree". In the light of this I feel that the cock is the more appropriate choice. (It should be noted that Fairchild actually said, "The 'cock' is the only other bird referred to by Shakespeare as a 'trumpet"', but, distracted by his Chaucerian source, he ignored the evidence in front of him.) The lark's song, even though it is once referred to as "shrill-gorg'd" (King Lear IV.vi.58) and once as "out of tune/ Straining harsh discords and unpleasing sharps" (Romeo and Juliet III.v.27-28), does




not seem to fit such terms as "trumpet", "loudest" and "sound" as well as does the cock's "crow". Also, the lark is noted for singing as it soars, as Shakespeare notes at other times. The bird of stanza one is presented in a position which is much more like that of the cock's saluting the morn. And, finally, one more factor can be taken into account-the approximate date of composition of the poem.

As far as we know, Shakespeare was writing, had just written, or was about to write, "The cock, that is the trumpet to the morn", when he wrote "let the bird of loudest lay". This, I feel, considerably strengthens the suggestion that the cock is the bird of stanza one. Furthermore, this leads us to the second problem with which I wish to deal. If we consider the proximity in time of the composition of Hamlet and "The Phoenix and Turtle" it is not irrelevant to examine the grave-side scenes that are presented in the two works. Are there any similarities, other than what could be expected in a treatment of the particular situation, between Ophelia's funeral and that of our birds?

What first struck me in reading "The Phoenix and Turtle" and gave me the impulse to attempt this study, was the line referring to the swan-priest: "Lest the requiem lack his right". This seems, for some reason, a more weighted idea than the poem alone demands. The fact that the structural order in stanza four (let priest be swan) is the reverse of the other stanzas (e.g. let bird be herald) seems to draw attention to this. At this point, Ophelia's burial came to mind, for in it there was a danger of the funeral lacking sacerdotal sancti- fication, because of the suspicion of suicide.

Hamlet. The queen, the courtiers: who is that they follow? And with such maimed rites?

Laertes. What ceremony else? i Priest. Her obsequies have been as far enlarg'd

As we have warrantise: her death was doubtful; And, but that great command o'ersways the order, She should in ground unsanctified have lodg'd Till the last trumpet; for charitable prayers, Shards, flints, and pebbles, should be thrown on her, Yet here she is allow'd her virgin rites, Her maiden strewments, and the bringing home Of bell and burial.

Laertes. Must there no more be done? I Priest. No more be done?

We should profane the service of the dead To sing a requiem, and such rest to her As to peace-parted souls.

(Hamlet V.i.229-230, 236-249)

One notices at once that Ophelia's "virgin rites" lack a "requiem". There are other verbal links, besides "requiem" (which is used by Shakespeare only these two times)--"obsequy" and "trumpet".

I hasten to add that I do not claim that the Phoenix is Ophelia, though I feel that almost as good a case could be made for her as for Lady Bedford or Lady Salisbury. What I do say, however, is that the verbal links between the




poem and the play, particularly if we also consider the "trumpet" link with the Ghost scene in Act I2, can scarcely be pure accident, though they may not necessarily indicate such a formal equivalence as: Phoenix = Ophelia, Turtle - Hamlet (?) or Laertes (?), "fowl of tyrant wing = Claudius (cf. Hamlet's remark, ". . . . and now reigns here/ A very, very-pajock", III.ii.289-290), and so on. The relationship is not fortuitous because the two works were written at approximately the same time, and both, moreover, are much concerned with "constancy" and "chastity".

Most of the critics have seemingly been aware of something peculiar about "The Phoenix and Turtle" as a whole, something in its tone that is puzzling, more puzzling actually than the identity of "the bird of loudest lay". B. H. Newdigate, for instance, says, "The lines on the Phoenix and Turtle . . . present one of the most difficult problems to be found in his works", and Ranjee G. Shahani notes that "As a composition 'The Phoenix and Turtle' is unique in European literature". Newdigate then, however, concentrates on the possible external references of Phoenix and Turtle; Shahani, and Cunningham, discuss the metaphysical ideas contained in the scholastic terminology of the anthem. None of the critics, with the exception of Bonnard, come at all near what seems to me the central problem, the strange way in which Shakespeare handles his subject and the ambiguous tone which results.

The point of Bonnard's article is that Shakespeare, along with Marston, Chapman, Jonson, and "Ignoto", annoyed at having to appear in print in Ches- ter's rather turgid company, wrote their contributions tongue in cheek. I am concerned with this suggestion only insofar as it indicates that Bonnard sensed a mocking or comic tone in "The Phoenix and Turtle". He enlarges on what he considers Shakespeare's rather obscene joke, seeing in the whole poem nothing more than this. So eager is he to prove that all the other critics have been fooled in seeing anything serious in what is only a "leg-pull", that he over- plays his hand. The intrusion of the comic must be examined, but an inability to see anything more than that in the poem seems a fault of taste. Nonetheless, there is more than a suggestion of the ridiculous in "The Phoenix and Turtle", particularly in the threnos.

The threnos begins with a simple and moving stanza:

Beauty, truth, and rarity, Grace in all simplicity, Here enclos'd in cinders lie.

2 am aware that this may at first sound as if a vicious circle is part of the pattern. How- ever, I do not say that "the bird of loudest lay" must be the cock, because of the ghost scene, and then turn around and insist that the two works are related because of the cock. I merely wish to point out the verbal link, "trumpet", regardless of what bird it may signify in the poem.

While on the subject of trumpets, the two appearances of that word in Hamlet may throw some light on the rather obscure line, "To whose sound chaste wings obey". Those who obey the cock's trumpet-call are the ghosts of the dead who must vanish with the coming of day. Ghosts could be considered chaste. If we think of the trumpet of the last judgment, which is referred to by the priest at Ophelia's grave, it is again the dead who must obey its call. That they will be chaste at this time is specifically noted by St. Matthew: "For in the resurrection they neither marry, nor arc given in marriage, but are as the angels of God in heaven" (XX. 30). This thought may be what Hamlet is half echoing when he says, "I say, we will have no more marriages: those that are married already, all but one, shall live" (III.i.149-151).




This is followed by a less emotional and more mythologically pictorial stanza:

Death is now the phoenix' nest; And the turtle's loyal breast To eternity doth rest,

which moves, with a bump, on into the third stanza, which has almost a ludicrous tone to it:

Leaving no posterity:- 'Twas not their infirmity, It was married chastity.

The last two lines, particularly, sound almost like a Falstaffian quip at some over fanatic Puritan pair. The double-rhyme, extended for three lines, could scarcely help hovering on the verge of comic verse. An examination of the other uses Shakespeare makes of this kind of rhyme effect only confirms this.

Fifteen other times, the rhyming of three consecutive lines or more occurs in the plays. Once it is in a song sung by an at least slightly intoxicated comic character:

Do nothing but eat, and make good cheer, And praise heaven for the merry year; When flesh is cheap, and females dear.

(2 Henry IV V.iii.I7-I9)

Twice it is used by Lear's fool to convey a prophetic, almost magical, message, e.g.:

Have more than thou showest, Speak less than thou knowest, Lend less than thou owest.

(King Lear I.iv.M21-I23)

Three times it is used in spells, e.g.:

Flower of this purple dye, Hit with Cupid's archery, Sink in apple of his eye.

(A Midsummer Night's Dream III.ii.Io2-Io4)

Four times it is used in connection with Portia's casket riddle, e.g.: All that glisters is not gold,- Often have you heard that told; Many a man his life hath sold.

(The Alerchant of Venice II.vii.65-67)

And, finally, it is used five times for definite comic effect: Thine own true knight, By day or night, Or any kind of light.

(The Merry Wives of Windsor II.i.I4-i6)

The raging rocks, With shivering shocks, Shall break the locks.

(A Midsummer Night's Dream I.ii.32-34)



SHAKESPEARE'S "THE PHOENIX AND TURTLE"

I trust to taste of truest Thisby's sight. But stay;-O spite! But mark,-poor knight.

(A Midsummer Night's Dream V.i.273-275)

From the east to the western Ind, No jewel is like Rosalind. Her worth being mounted on the wind.

(As You Like It III.ii.88-9o) On which Touchstone comments, "This is the very false gallop of verses. ..

For us, and for our tragedy, Here stooping to your clemency, We beg your hearing patiently.

(Hamlet III.ii.I52-I54)

Hamlet's remark on this is most scornful. "Is this a prologue, or the posy of a ring?"

This kind of rhyme-scheme, then, has very definite associations in Shake- speare's work. Two general elements can be recognized-the comic, and the magical or proverbial. The second element, which is closely connected with some of the earliest types of poetry-for example, Old English riddle poems and Finnish runot-has a serious poetic function in the threnos, giving it some of the objective, eternal qualities of an actual epitaph carved on the funeral urn. However, we cannot ignore the third stanza of the threnos, nor avoid putting it alongside the three lines from Hamlet. When we do so, we are constrained to say, with Hamlet, "Is this a prologue [or a threnos], or the posy of a ring?" The final and most important question is obvious: "Why this curious mixture of the profoundly serious and the ludicrous?" "The Phoenix and Turtle" is not a five-act tragedy which could assimilate comic relief. The comic here is anything but relief; it is intrusive, if not disruptive.

I suggest the reason for this is an irreconcilable clash between the attitude expressed in Chester's poem to the subject of constancy, chastity, and love (which the other poets were presumably expected to adopt) and the particular attitude to constancy, chastity, and love which we find in Hamlet or Troilus and Cressida. Bonnard says, "All the poems that follow, by Shakespeare, Marston, Chapman, Jonson, and another poet who signs "Ignoto", refer, in accordance with the title, to the subject of the Turtle and the Phoenix: to their marriage, that is to the death of the Phoenix, to their constancy in love, and to their reward in a new little phoenix their daughter." The point is, of course, that this, as regards Shakespeare's contribution, is wrong. The threnos says explicitly, "Leaving no posterity". There can be no doubt of this: Shakespeare on this point contradicts Chester and the others.

Chester's subject is quite clear, despite his mediocre and long-winded pre- sentation. Employing the Phoenix myth, he celebrates the union of a human pair. The phoenix, of course, symbolizes "enchanting beautie", "wits raritie", and "virtue", the turtle symbolizes "love and chastitie", and "constancie" (Love's Martyr I32(040)). The phoenix's fiery consummation has its obvious physical meaning, and its resurrection is natural, too, in the form of the child born of that union. This, then, is the subject Shakespeare must write on, too. But how




do we find him treating these matters in Hamlet, or in Troilus and Cressida? Not only are the plays of this period concerned with inconstancy, unchastity,

and lust, but the treatment itself indicates a deep and, as critics have pointed out, almost unbalanced repugnance to the relation between the sexes. Not even the truly innocent escape, as Hamlet shows when he says to Ophelia:

If thou dost marry, I'll give thee this plague for thy dowry,-be thou as chaste as ice, as pure as snow, thou shalt not escape calumny.

(Hamlet III.i.I36-I39)

At this point in Shakespeare's career there is no place for a simple eulogizing of marital faith and love, particularly if the physical aspect of the relationship is considered. When Hamlet consigns "Conscience and grace to the profoundest pit" (IV.V.I3I), he is thinking of a very different kind of fire from that which produced the "cinders" in which lie "Grace in all simplicity". The poet does what he can with the subject by concentrating on the death itself, and treating the situation, which for Chester is essentially epithalamic, by a threnody. Not only is posterity refused the Phoenix and the Turtle; the sexual act itself is as good as denied: "It was married chastity". It seems significant that the one place where the whole problem of the divergent attitudes is most obvious, the stanza where the two most important aspects of Chester's allegory-the consummation and the child-are denied, should also be the place where the ludicrous element intrudes.

One final point about the poem as a whole may be considered. We have seen that its structure is tripartite: the funeral party, the anthem, and the threnos. The progression of "speakers" of the poem follows this division. The funeral party is listed in objective imperatives: "Let the bird of loudest lay", "From this session interdict". The anthem, which is announced in the same detached, objective manner-"Here the anthem doth commence"-is, presumably, spoken or sung by the funeral party as a whole, or by the priest-swan alone. Judging from its scholastic terminology, perhaps the latter is indicated. Reason, who appears in the anthem, then speaks the threnos, "Whereupon it [Reason] made this threne". Now, the manner in which these sections are spoken is dramatic, in a skeletal form. In a way, "The Phoenix and Turtle" is the outline of a drama, or rather, perhaps, what is left when all action has been reduced to nar- rative or removed. The first five stanzas are part of a dramatis personae, the anthem gives the substance of the drama in a highly intellectualized and com- pressed form, while the threnos is the epilogue. That something of all this is in Shakespeare's mind is obvious, for Reason "made this threne . . . As chorus to their tragic scene". It is scarcely surprising that the artist, who at the time is putting all his powers into the dramatic form, should make of a short poem, like "The Phoenix and Turtle", almost a tragedy-in the form of a posy of a ring.3

University College, Toronto

When writing this article, I had not seen T. W. Baldwin's On the Literary Genetics of Shakspere's Poems & Sonnets (Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 1950). However, Professor Baldwin's choice for "the bird of loudest lay" seems no more satisfactory than any other, and his proofs in no way change my mind about my choice.



Documents

Shakespeare's "The Phoenix and Turtle"