Astrophil and Stella, Sonnet 62

Late tired with woe, even ready for to pine,
With rage of love, I called my love unkind;
She in whose eyes love, though unfelt, doth shine,
Sweet said that I true love in her should find.
I joyed, but straight thus watered was my wine,
That love she did, but loved a love not blind,
Which would not let me, whom she loved, decline
From nobler course, fit for my birth and mind:
And therefore by her love’s authority,
Willed me these tempests of vain love to fly,
And anchor fast myself on virtue’s shore.
Alas, if this the only metal be
Of Love, new-coined to help my beggary,
Dear, love me not, that you may love me more.

I suggest you click here to open the sonnet in a separate window, so that you can refer directly to it as you read on through the analysis.

Reading notes: As usual, “even” in line 1 is a single syllable. The word “fly” in line 10, for Sidney, would have rhymed with “be” and the final syllable of “authority” and “beggary,” but this need only be noted mentally in modern reading.

This is a companion sonnet to the previous one, and we might borrow Wordsworth’s title “The Tables Turned” for at least its final line, where the paradox that ended Sonnet 61 is reversed.

Like Sonnet 61, there is an “extroverted” rhyme scheme in the octave, and here the near-rhymes of the A’s and B’s reflects two “loves” that also sound alike but aren’t. Line 4, at first blush, sounds as if it might be the breakthrough moment we have waited for throughout the sequence: Stella sweetly says she DOES love me after all!

The joyful response lasts for exactly two words, or two syllables, or one brief foot, before the other shoe begins to drop, beginning with a teaser metaphor of watered wine. It turns out she has a sincere, pure, Platonic love for the speaker—not the “blind,” passionate love of Cupid, but the heavenly kind that sees clearly by the light of reason. And in the spirit of love, she wishes him to be as perfect as he can be, and as his pedigree (“birth”) and talents (“mind”) promise for him. The first tercet of the sestet continues the main idea of the sonnet by giving the clear implication of this special “love’s authority”: as in Sonnet 61, she shows her form of love by urging him to abandon his.

The fulcrum comes after line 11, as the final three lines give the speaker’s response. Setting it up with the metaphor of love as a “metal” from which improving ideas are “coined,” he says that if that’s the way it has to be, he wishes she would stop “loving” him that way, so that she could “love” him the other way. The two words “love” in the final line obviously mean two different things, and the meaning of the word has in fact been subtly shifting all through the poem, especially in line 6, where the meaning shifts over from his to hers, and here at the end, where it shifts back, referring at the end to the passionate relationship the speaker would like to have.

Next time (weekend of November 28): Sonnet 63
Jonathan Smith is Professor of English at Hanover College, Hanover, Indiana.