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In Shakespeare’s plays, again as in life, romantic love takes many forms. In some cases, the bond is pure and seemingly inevitable, while in other instances, feelings are more bewildering. Yet the emotional attraction of one human being to another remains the most universal of themes, and Shakespeare allows us to see this force in all its wonder. His most celebrated portrait of love, and the most famous in all literature, is Romeo and Juliet, in which the plot springboard is the ever-popular story line of love at first sight. Other elements, however, contribute to create a drama of astonishing impact. One reason for its power may be found at the very start, when the outcome is clearly laid out
In Shakespeare’s plays, again as in life, romantic love takes many forms. In some cases, the bond is pure and seemingly inevitable, while in other instances, feelings are more bewildering. Yet the emotional attraction of one human being to another remains the most universal of themes, and Shakespeare allows us to see this force in all its wonder. His most celebrated portrait of love, and the most famous in all literature, is Romeo and Juliet, in which the plot springboard is the ever-popular story line of love at first sight. Other elements, however, contribute to create a drama of astonishing impact. One reason for its power may be found at the very start, when the outcome is clearly laid out: The fearful passage of their death-mark’d love, And the continuance of their parents’ rage, Which, but their children’s end, nought could remove… (Prologue, 9–11) From this point on, references to death permeate the text, so that no matter how intense the love between these two young people becomes, we remain conscious of looming tragedy. Such is the case even when we first hear of Romeo, who is described by his friend Benevolio, then by his mother Lady Montague, as wandering alone in the early morning and late at night (I, i, 116–129). He could be a figure from a comedy, for he is presented as a stereotypically infatuated Renaissance youth, an impression confirmed by Romeo’s first statements about the immediate object of his affection, Rosaline: Why then, O brawling love! O loving hate! O any thing, of nothing first [create]! O heavy lightness, serious vanity, Misshapen chaos of well-[seeming] forms, Feather of lead, bright smoke, cold fire, sick health, Still-waking sleep, that is not what it is! (I, i, 176–181) His overdone oxymora (contrasting words in one image) reduce him to parody, a young man in love with the concept of love. Indeed, he recognizes this weakness in himself: Tut, I have lost myself, I am not here; This is not Romeo, he’s some otherwhere. (I, i, 197–198) The suggestion that people who fall in love find themselves is familiar from other plays of Shakespeare. For instance, in The Comedy of Errors, Antipholus of Syracuse, a bemused newcomer to the city of Ephesus, comments on what he seeks: So I, to find a mother and a brother, In quest of them (unhappy), ah, lose myself. (I, ii, 39–40) He believes that he can find himself only through love, and at this moment he assumes that the source of that love will be a member of his family. Later, however, he “finds” himself through romantic love. In Love’s Labor’s Lost, the lord Berowne has agreed to abide by the King’s directive to live a life of scholarship, without the interference of love, but eventually he realizes his folly: [Let] us once lose our oaths to find ourselves, Or else we lose ourselves to keep our oaths. (IV, iii, 358–359) Self-discovery through romance: the theme is intrinsic to Shakespeare’s vision. The transformation of Romeo from a comic figure to one of dignity begins during the ball at the Capulet home, where he anticipates an evening with Rosaline, but is struck instead by the masked Juliet: “O, she doth teach the torches to burn bright!” (I, v, 44). Moments later, he approaches her: If I profane with my unworthiest hand This holy shrine, the gentle sin is this, My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss. (I, v, 93–96) What follows is a parry and thrust in the style of courtly love, as Juliet tests Romeo’s skill with words, while inviting him to pursue her. For instance, he says: O then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do, They pray—grant thou, lest faith turn to despair. (I, v, 103–104) Juliet, in turn, challenges his request: “Saints do not move, though grant for prayers’ sake” (I, v, 105). As the two exchange conceits, Juliet gently mocks Romeo, even as she encourages him. From the start, then, the two seem a perfect match. Shakespeare, however, never permits us to lose awareness of how their love will resolve. Only a few lines later, for example, when Juliet discovers that Romeo is a Montague, and thus her family’s enemy, she is overcome with intimations of death: “My grave is like to be my wedding-bed” (I, v, 135). After Romeo has spoken to her from below her balcony, her fear recurs: I have no joy of this contract to-night, It is too rash, too unadvis’d, too sudden, Too like the lightning, which doth cease to be Ere one can say it lightens. (II, ii, 117–120) Still later, when Juliet anticipates Romeo’s appearance, she continues to worry: Come, gentle night, come, loving, black-brow’d night, Give me my Romeo, and, when I shall die, Take him and cut him out in little stars, And he will make the face of heaven so fine That all the world will be in love with night And pay no worship to the garish sun. (III, ii, 20–25) Yet part of the magic of this play is the determination of the two young lovers. Despite fear of discovery, they share a night of physical passion, and although the conventions of his theater prevented Shakespeare from showing such private moments, we see Romeo and Juliet after their honeymoon night, and understand how its consequences leave both so af fected that their personalities are temporarily altered. Juliet, normally the more thoughtful of the two, becomes giddy: Wilt thou be gone? it is not yet near day. It was the nightingale, and not the lark, That pierc’d the fearful hollow of thine ear… (III, v, 1–3) Seconds later, she tries to dissuade him from leaving: Yond light is not day-light, I know it, I; It is some meteor that the sun [exhal’d] To be to thee this night a torch-bearer And light thee on thy way to Mantua, Therefore stay yet, thou need’st not be gone. (III, v, 12–16) Only when Romeo relents (“Let’s talk, it is not day” [III, v, 25]), does she revert to her rational self: “It is, it is! Hie hence, be gone, away!” (III, v, 26). Still, the dominant sentiment in the play is the strength of love in the shadow of imminent death. Thus as Romeo stands over Juliet’s apparently lifeless form in the crypt, he prepares to swallow poison: O, here Will I set up my everlasting rest, And shake the yoke of inauspicious stars From this world-wearied flesh. (V, iii, 109–112) The impact of all such lines is that the love between Romeo and Juliet is of such passion that it will carry on past their earthly lives. Many of the elements of Romeo and Juliet may be found in a play that is contemporaneous with it, A Midsummer Night’s Dream. Indeed, the words of the young man Lysander from the latter work apply to both: “The course of true love never did run smooth” (I, i, 134). From the start of A Midsummer Night’s Dream, the familiar conflict between young love and older authority is apparent, for Hermia and her love Lysander seek to marry over the objections of her father, Egeus. The threat of death is also in the air, for when Hermia inquires as to the consequences if she does not marry Demetrius, Egeus’s choice, her father states uncategorically: “Either to die the death, or to abjure/ For ever the society of men” (I, i, 65–66). In addition, when Hermia and Lysander are left alone, they indulge in overdone poetry similar to Romeo’s (I, i, 136–141), and Hermia even broaches the theme of the fate: If then true lovers have ever been cross’d, It stands as an edict in destiny. (I, i, 150–151) The most profound difference between the two plays, however, is that while the Prologue of Romeo and Juliet resounds with inevitable death, here all the action takes place under the eyes of Oberon, King of the Fairies, and his sprite, Puck. Thus when Hermia and Lysander run away, only to be joined by Demetrius and the woman who pursues him, Helena, we rest assured that no matter how emotions whirl and affections wander, all will resolve favorably. Nevertheless, hints of tragedy intrude. For instance, when Lysander and Hermia find themselves stranded in the woods, the two prepare to lie down for the night. Trying to wheedle his way closer, Lysander resolves: “And then end life when I end loyalty!” (II, ii, 63). Under the influence of Puck’s magic juice, he will in fact prove disloyal, if only temporarily. The affections between the lovers in A Midsummer Night’s Dream are explored in other chapters (see “Appearance versus Reality,”“Fidelity,” “Marriage,” and “Supernatural Phenomena”), but of particular interest here is that even when the multitude of confusions at last untangles, we remember the potential disaster the four have faced, especially during the performance of “Pyramus and Thisbe.” Despite the absurdity of the mechanicals’ (or laborers’) presentation, the story is fundamentally like that of Romeo and Juliet, in which love between a young man and young woman is quashed by events beyond their control. Moreover, the circumstances of the deaths in “Pyramus and Thisbe” are startlingly close to the plot of the tragedy. When Pyramus mistakenly assumes that Thisbe is dead, the stricken youth stabs himself. Thereafter, Thisbe returns, only to find her lover’s body, and so she, too, takes her life. In these two plays, therefore, Shakespeare presents youthful love, impassioned and impetuous, from both comic and tragic perspectives. “Love at first sight” is one of the two most popular motifs that pervade the world’s love stories. The other involves a man and a woman who begin their relationship as antagonists, then gradually draw together. The archetype of this plot is The Taming of the Shrew. Early on, the gentleman Petruchio unashamedly declares that his reason for visiting the city of Padua is to marry for money (I, ii, 75–76), but when he hears of the lady Katherine’s notorious temper, he finds himself intrigued by her spirit as well (I, ii, 199–210). Meanwhile, Katherine has already denounced her father Baptista’s treating her younger sister, Bianca, as his favorite: She is your treasure, she must have a husband; I must dance barefoot on her wedding-day, And for your love to her lead apes into hell. (II, i, 32–34) Her resentment clarifies that she awaits a dynamic male to rescue her from the local mediocrities we have met. Both characters, therefore, have pronounced themselves eager to fall in love, but so rough-edged are their personalities that their road to contentment cannot proceed smoothly. Not surprisingly, when they do meet, they swap insults, as Katherine dismisses him (“Asses are made to bare, and so are you” [II, i, 199]), and Petruchio resasserts himself (“Women are made to bear, and so are you” [II, i, 200]). They even exchange blows, until Petruchio sets down a rule: “I swear I’ll cuff you, if you strike again” (II, i, 220). We accept that she is intrigued by his authoritative manner, but we also understand that her perverse nature, hardened by years of misery, prevents her from acquiescing too quickly. Therefore he must force her into marriage, but the surrender does not occur for some time. Until that moment, their relationship is marked by an extreme form of courtship: starvation and denial of sleep at his house. Petruchio also treats the invited haberdasher so cruelly that Katherine and the audience both recognize what Peter, Petruchio’s servant, articulates: “He kills her in her own humor” (IV, i, 180). Such treatment may be viewed as torture, but Petruchio interprets the procedure in his own fashion: Ay, and amid this hurly I intend That all is done in reverend care of her… This is a way to kill a wife with kindness, And thus I’ll curb her mad and headstrong humor. He that knows better how to tame a shrew, Now let him speak; ’tis charity to shew. (IV, i, 203–211) Katherine and Petruchio eventually reach an equilibrium, demonstrated during their journey back to Padua, when he vacillates about whether the sun or moon shines down warmly, and she joins in what she realizes is a game: Then God be blest, it [is] the blessed sun, But sun it is not, when you say it is not; And the moon changes even as your mind. What you will have it nam’d, even that it is, And so it shall be for Katherine. (IV, v, 18–22) Thereafter he relents, and the ground rules are established: He demands that she agree with him, but once she does, he defers to her. Katherine and Petruchio never define their relationship in those words, but their mutual affection is evident. Mutual antagonism need not manifest itself physically, but however it appears, it suggests a hidden desire for romance. In Much Ado About Nothing, Beatrice (whose name means “blesser”) and Benedick (“the blessed one”) claim to despise each other. Yet that each talks of virtually nothing but the other reminds us that the opposite of love is not hate but indifference. As Benedick says: But it is certain I am lov’d of all ladies, only you excepted; and I would I could find in my heart that I had not a hard heart, for truly I love none. (I, i, 124–127) The more they gibe, the more we realize that each hopes the other will break down the barriers between them and allow their latent affection to bloom. Like Katherine, Beatrice invokes the phrase “lead his apes into hell” (II, i, 41), the proverbial punishment for old maids, and thus we suspect that despite her railing against men, Beatrice, too, is desperate to find one worthy of her. Moreover, one of her speeches contains several references to dancing, including “measure” (II, i, 69–80), and such imagery reflects the social conventions to which these two characters respond. Yet when they don masks and participate in a literal dance, Benedick recognizes Beatrice and talks about himself in the hope of hearing flattering remarks. Instead, she insults him: Why, he is the Prince’s jester, a very dull fool; only his gift is in devising impossible slanders. (II, i, 137–138) We cannot be certain whether Beatrice also recognizes Benedick, but the scene works either way. In any case, she soon decides that they must dance and “follow the leaders” (II, i, 151), and Benedick responds in rhythm: “In every good thing” (II, i, 152). Their ultimate union is thus subtly inevitable. What remains is for their friends to push them together, and how appropriate that the pair falls victim to verbal subterfuge. With Benedick listening, his friend Don Pedro describes Beatrice in the pangs of frustrated love: Then down upon her knees she falls, weeps, sobs, beats her heart, tears her hair, prays, curses: “O sweet Benedick! God give me patience!” (II, iii, 146–149) Before long, Benedick is convinced that Beatrice is infatuated with him and resolves to pursue her. Subsequently, the women play a similar trick on Beatrice, letting her overhear warnings against her sharp tongue. Beatrice’s reaction reveals that she, too, is eager to let down her guard: Stand I condemn’d for pride and scorn so much? Contempt, farewell, and maiden pride, adieu! No glory lives behind the back of such. And Benedick, love on, I will requite thee, Taming my wild heart to thy loving hand. (III, i, 108–112) Her invitation to have her heart “tamed,” another echo of Katherine, suggests that despite her protestations, she welcomes the chance to abide by certain conventions of her time. Thus the final dance that Beatrice and Benedick share (V, iv) fulfills our expectations. Here, then, are two couples who overcome their passionate antagonism to enjoy equally passionate love affairs. Yet one more courtship should be mentioned, for it starts out with similiar intensity, then dissipates. In Othello, the title character is under pressure from Desdemona’s father, Brabantio, to explain publically the courtship of Desdemona. In response, Othello tells how he related the essentials of his life: the travels and conquests that lifted him to his place of eminence. He then describes Desdemona’s reaction to the narrative: My story being done, She gave me for my pains a world of [sighs]; She swore, in faith ’twas strange, ’twas passing strange; ’Twas pitiful, ’twas wondrous pitiful. She wish’d she had not heard it, yet she wish’d That heaven had made her such a man. She thank’d me, And bade me, if had a friend that lov’d her, I should but teach him how to tell my story, And that would woo her. (I, iii, 158–166) Here is the crux of their relationship. Desdemona has fallen in love not with a man, but with an image, an idealized version she drew from the stories he told her. Even Othello recognizes as much: “She lov’d me for the dangers I had pass’d” (I, iii, 167). He understands that she barely knows him, but that she finds him an object of fascination. He confesses, too, that he is taken with her primarily because she is taken with him: “And I lov’d her that she did pity them” (I, iii, 168). “Pity” in the Elizabethan context also has connotations of love; nonetheless, he does not really know her, either. The two have married as strangers, as if captivated by each other’s portraits. Still, their attraction is understandable, for even the Duke is impressed by Othello’s narrative: “I think this tale would win my daughter too” (I, iii, 171). We are aware, however, that when trouble surfaces in the form of lies and rumors spread by Iago, Othello’s dissatisfied ensign, the two have no foundation of trust to support them through the crisis. Thus Othello and Desdemona become victims of cosmopolitan Venice with its racial and social strictures. For contrast, as an example of courtship in an instinctive love that breaks down barriers, we should turn to The Winter’s Tale, and Perdita and Florizel. Perdita, daughter of King Leontes of Sicilia and Hermione, but now living in Bohemia unaware of her history and royal parentage, speaks of herself as unworthy of Florizel’s high station as Prince (IV, iv, 7–10), but he has partially removed the obstacles between them by changing into country attire. In addition, he tries to assuage her fears about how his father will regard her: Or I’ll be thine, my fair, Or not my father’s; for I cannot be Mine own, nor any thing to any, if I be not thine. To this I am most constant, Though destiny say so. (IV, iv, 42–46) The contrast between these two characters and the title characters of Romeo and Juliet is striking. Juliet urges Romeo to “Deny thy father and refuse thy name” (II, ii, 34), but Romeo never manages to do so; rather, he surrenders to the pressures of family and “fate,” unlike Florizel, who is willing to oppose both. Indeed, Romeo eventually bursts out: “Then I [defy] you, stars” (V, i, 24), but the gesture comes too late. The relationship between Florizel and Perdita continues in this vein, as the two are joined by the disguised Polixenes, Florizel’s father and the King of Bohemia, and Camillo, a lord of Sicilia. As Perdita distributes flowers, she takes on the qualities of a force of nature: sexual and passionate, yet pure, especially when she gives the flowers to Florizel and invokes images of fertility and growth (IV, iv, 112–129). Florizel responds with equal intensity: When you do dance, I wish you A wave o’ th’ sea, that you might ever do Nothing but that; move still, still so, And own no other function. (IV, iv, 140–143) The image of dancing, familiar from the dialogue and actions of lovers from other plays, confirms that these two will continue with such unabated passion. The ardor one person feels for another may not always be reciprocated, at least not at first. In As You Like It, the untutored peasant, Audrey, feels affection for Rosalind’s grimly humorous servant, Touchstone, but he initially displays a decided lack of interest in her: Well, prais’d be the gods for thy foulness! sluttishness may come herafter. (III, iii, 40–41) He does acknowledge, though, that he is attracted to her physically. Therefore she agrees to marry him, but Touchstone arranges for the wedding to be conducted by Sir Oliver Martext, a local vicar of dubious authority: I am not in the mind but I were better to be married of him than of another, for he is not like to marry me well; and not being well married, it will be a good excuse for me hereafter to leave my wife. (III, iii, 89–94) Touchstone implies that he values Audrey only for temporary sexual gratification. Yet by the end of the play, when William, an innocuous country fellow, tries to claim Audrey for his own, Touchstone turns possessive, subduing the hapless William with a barrage of words (V, i, 46–57) and claiming Audrey for his own. Later, Touchstone not only insults a young page who has ambition to sing, but also leads Audrey away, this time to a legitimate marriage (V, iii, 1–6, 39–41). Apparently the power of romance has transformed even so crass a figure as Touchstone. One instance in Shakespeare’s plays where love is definitely not returned is All’s Well That Ends Well, in which Helena, a gentlewoman raised by the Countess, is infatuated with the aristocratic count Bertram: ’Twere all one That I should love a bright particular star And think to wed it, he is so above me. In his bright radiance and collateral light Must I be comforted, not in his sphere. (I, i, 85–89) He rebuffs her affection, but she remains undiscouraged, even after the gibes of Parolles, Bertram’s manipulative confidant. In her words: What power is it which mounts my love so high, That makes me see, and cannot feed mine eye? The mightiest space in fortune nature brings To join like likes, and kiss like native beings. (I, i, 220–223) Throughout the play, heavenly influences are mentioned in relation to Helena. These references, in combination with her own awareness of the physical nature of things, make her a combination of the spiritual and the earthly. In that light, some of her actions are better understood. Still, Helena’s determination to marry Bertram remains surprising, especially after she has cured the King of France’s seemingly fatal illness, and he has rewarded her by allowing her to select her husband. When she chooses Bertram, however, he scorns her: She had her breeding at my father’s charge— A poor physician’s daughter my wife! Disdain Rather corrupt me ever! (II, iii, 114–116) Despite the King’s claims that his own prestige is on the line, Bertram remains adamant: “I cannot love her, nor will strive to do’t” (II, iii, 145). Bertram’s reluctance is understandable, as he is being forced into marriage, but he is so rude that our sympathy goes to Helena, especially when Bertram prepares to send Helena to his mother with a letter detailing his hatred. At the same time, we wonder about Helena, who one scene later comments about Bertram’s running away: “In every thing I wait upon his will” (II, iv, 54). Should we regard her patience as saintlike, or as evidence of ruthless persistence? So desperate is Helena that she carries out a plan to switch places in bed with Diana, the woman Bertram desires. The matter of Helena’s spirituality becomes more problematic here, but in her eyes, the ends justify the means: Let us assay our plot, which if it speed, Is wicked meaning in a lawful deed, And lawful meaning in a lawful act, Where both not sin, and yet a sinful fact. (III, vii, 44–47) At the conclusion of the play, though, these questions remain unresolved. Bertram, who believes Helena dead, is brought before the King. Initially, he expresses remorse, but when questioned about the ring given to him by Diana, which was given to her by Helena, he lies about its origin (V, iii, 93–95). Even after Diana is brought before him, Bertram remains contemptuous: My lord, this is a fond and desp’rate creature, When sometime I have laugh’d with. Let your Highness Lay a more noble thought upon mine honor Than for to think that I would sink it here. (V, iii, 178–181) When Helena finally appears, she marches directly to Bertram and claims him for her own: “Will you be mine now you are doubly won?” (V, iii, 314). Her challenge, which may be delivered with either icy calm or intense passion, reduces Bertram to two lines of helpless resignation: If she, my liege, can make me know this clearly, I’ll love her dearly, ever, ever dearly. (V, iii, 315–316) Perhaps we are meant to believe that Helena’s appearance, her rebirth, so to speak, causes Bertram’s transformation. Nevertheless, he has been dislikable for so long that her love remains difficult to accept. As we have considered, Shakespeare portrays love as having both physical and emotional dimensions, but rarely does he treat sexual relations between a man and a woman with dignity. Perhaps the play of Shakespeare’s in which physical love is mocked most consistently is Troilus and Cressida. One compelling moment occurs when Troilus, son of Priam and therefore supposedly a leader of the Trojan side of the war, is waiting for his love, Cressida, Calchas’s daughter. To Troilus, she is of far greater concern than military matters, and he can scarcely contain his anticipation: I am giddy; expectation whirls me round; Th’imaginary relish is so sweet That it enchants my sense; what will it be, When that wat’ry palates taste indeed Love’s thrice-reputed nectar? (III, ii, 18–22) These poetic intentions, though, are unintentionally ironic, for we remember how the worldly Cressida spoke of sex: Women are angels, wooing: Things won are done, joy’s soul lies in the doing. That she belov’d knows nought that she knows not this: Men prize the thing ungain’d more than it is. (I, ii, 286–289) Thus when she enters feigning shyness and innocence, Troilus looks foolish, and even more so after the words of her uncle Pandarus, who has arranged the assignation: “So, so, rub on and kiss the mistress” (III, ii, 49–50). Troilus attempts to arouse her, but Cressida continues to act timid, all the while revealing her sophistication: They say all lovers swear more performance than they are able, and yet reserve an ability that they never perform… (III, ii, 84–86) She pretends that she has heard rumors, but we suspect her comments are based on experience. After Pandarus interrupts, frustrated that the two are as yet talking, Cressida claims that she has always loved Troilus (III, ii, 114–115), then withdraws the claim, as if shocked at her own boldness: “Sweet, bid me hold my tongue…” (III, ii, 129). When at last he kisses her, she retreats in mock embarrassment (III, ii, 136–139), manipulating him unerringly. She even boasts indirectly of her skill at doing so: Perchance, my lord, I show more craft than love, And fell so roundly to a large confession, To angle for your thoughts, but you are wise, Or else you love not… (III, ii, 153–156) Troilus remains impassioned, however, and the two express mutual fidelity, Cressida speaking with particular fervor (III, ii, 184–196). The emotion of this scene is comically blunted, however, by Cressida’s entire performance, as well as by the joys of sexual fulfillment obliterated by Pandarus’s final claim: If ever you prove false to one another… Let all constant men be Troiluses, all false women, Cressids, and all brokers- between Pandars! (III, ii, 199–204) That warning becomes actuality, while our view of physical love becomes jaundiced. Even in the tragedy Antony and Cleopatra, the physical aspects of love are presented as more comic than romantic. Early on, Antony and his aide, Enobarbus, lounge about, commenting derisively about women’s sexual capacity, in particular Cleopatra’s: I have seen her die twenty times upon far poorer moment. I do think there is mettle in death, which commits some loving act upon her, she hath such a celerity in dying. (I, ii, 141–144) The word “die,” of course, has a dual meaning based upon an Elizabethan poetic metaphor implying sexual satisfaction. In Shakespeare’s comedies, romance always ends in marriage, and according to the conventions of that genre, we are expected to trust that thereafter all will be well. In tragedy, though, the death of a hero is essential, and therefore in Antony and Cleopatra physical love must be subordinate to the spiritual unity of two noble souls. That feeling dominates its final scenes. Yet here is another romance tinged with foreshadowings of inevitable destruction, for from the beginning we are always aware that Antony cannot have both Cleopatra and leadership of the world. When he dies, Cleopatra’s response suggests that their only salvation is a love beyond the realm of the earth: It were for me To throw my sceptre at the injurious gods, To tell them that this world did equal theirs Till they had stol’n our jewel. (IV, xv, 75–78) Later she comments: His legs bestrid the ocean, his rear’d arm Crested the world, his voice was propertied As all the tuned spheres, and that to friends; But when he meant to quail and shake the orb, He was as rattling thunder…His delights Were dolphin-like, they show’d his back above The element they liv’d in. In his livery Walk’d crowns and crowners; realms and islands were As plates dropp’d from his pocket. (V, ii, 82–92) All these images suggest a figure exceeding the boundaries of the planet. Cleopatra also envisions herself this way, as she prepares to die rather than be taken prisoner by Octavius Caesar: Husband, I come! Now to that name my courage prove my title! I am fire and air; my other elements I give to baser life. (V, ii, 287–290) Even Caesar, who throughout the play has been insensitive to romance, speaks poetically over Cleopatra’s body: Take up her bed, And bear her women from the monument. She shall be buried by her Antony; No grave upon the earth shall clip in it A pair so famous. (V, ii, 356–360) Caesar recognizes that despite his military triumphs, Antony and Cleopatra have achieved a stature that grants them immortality. Such love as theirs, the play suggests, is worth all the transitory successes that the world affords. In sum, Shakespeare’s vision of romantic love is not easily categorized, for he dramatizes the experience as multifaceted and contradictory, frustrating and inspiring, exhilarating and tragic. Perhaps the only generalization that holds is that Shakespeare shows love to be eternally fascinating, the one aspect of life that spans the entire spectrum of humanity. |