"M.O.A.!." 79 Thirdly, <strong>in</strong> Shakespeare's own days self-love was noth<strong>in</strong>g less than an obsolete k<strong>in</strong>d of error. Montaigne described a Malvolio-like man when he wanted <strong>to</strong> expose <strong>the</strong> wrongness of human self-adoration. 5 When, only a little later, it comes <strong>to</strong> <strong>the</strong> "grounds of faith" of Roman Catholic reformers like Fran
80 INGE LEIMBERG is only ano<strong>the</strong>r name for unchastity, it leads <strong>to</strong> <strong>in</strong>tellectual bl<strong>in</strong>dness,9 and, <strong>the</strong>refore, br<strong>in</strong>gs about <strong>the</strong> loss of man's likeness <strong>to</strong> God, which was God's very purpose <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> creation of man. In <strong>Twelfth</strong> <strong>Night</strong> 2.5 Shakespeare is ma<strong>in</strong>ly concerned with <strong>in</strong>tellectual bl<strong>in</strong>dness, whilst <strong>the</strong> unchastity of self-love comes <strong>to</strong> <strong>the</strong> fore even more clearly <strong>in</strong> <strong>Twelfth</strong> <strong>Night</strong> 3.4. Man's likeness <strong>to</strong> God, be<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> acme of <strong>the</strong> whole <strong>the</strong>matic complex, is always <strong>in</strong>volved. If, <strong>in</strong> <strong>Twelfth</strong> <strong>Night</strong>, Shakespeare branded self-love as <strong>the</strong> sickness and <strong>the</strong> s<strong>in</strong> of Malvolio, he went even fur<strong>the</strong>r <strong>in</strong> Sonnet 62,10 where <strong>the</strong> speaker himself is a victim of amor sui. But, by contrast with <strong>Twelfth</strong> <strong>Night</strong>, <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> sonnet <strong>the</strong> ego possessed by self-love is never quite bereft of self-knowledge. In <strong>the</strong> octave <strong>the</strong> speaker confesses <strong>to</strong> his guilt: S<strong>in</strong> of self-love possesseth all m<strong>in</strong>e eye, And all my soul, and all my every part; And for this s<strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong>re is no remedy, It is so grounded <strong>in</strong>ward <strong>in</strong> my heart. Meth<strong>in</strong>ks no face so gracious is as m<strong>in</strong>e, No shape so true, no truth of such account, And for myself my own worth do def<strong>in</strong>e, As I all o<strong>the</strong>r <strong>in</strong> all worths surmount. In <strong>the</strong> sestet, after <strong>the</strong> peripeteia-like volta, he describes his bitter awaken<strong>in</strong>g <strong>to</strong> reality: But when my glass shows me myself <strong>in</strong>deed, Beated and chopped with tanned antiquity, M<strong>in</strong>e own self-love quite contrary I read; Self so self-lov<strong>in</strong>g were <strong>in</strong>iquity. Then comes <strong>the</strong> f<strong>in</strong>al couplet ex<strong>to</strong>ll<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> transformation of self-love and self-praise <strong>in</strong><strong>to</strong> real love and real praise, which is only ano<strong>the</strong>r name for poetry: 'Tis <strong>the</strong>e, myself, that for myself I praise, Pa<strong>in</strong>t<strong>in</strong>g my age with beauty of thy days. The au<strong>to</strong>biographical parallel <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> sonnet, which goes as far as we shall ever come <strong>to</strong>wards au<strong>to</strong>biography <strong>in</strong> Shakespeare, makes Malvolio's tragi-comic catharsis poignantly clear <strong>to</strong> any specta<strong>to</strong>r and