William Shakespeare wrote 154 sonnets, and well over a hundred of them are love poems addressed to a young man. That single fact has fueled one of the most enduring debates in literary history: was Shakespeare bisexual? The sonnets suggest he experienced deep romantic and emotional desire for both a male “Fair Youth” and a female “Dark Lady.”
No surviving letter or diary entry tells us plainly how Shakespeare identified. But the poems themselves, his most personal surviving writings, paint a picture of someone whose emotional and erotic life crossed the boundaries of gender.
When you read the sonnets in sequence, the evidence is hard to ignore. Sonnets 1 through 126 pulse with longing for a beautiful young man. Sonnets 127 through 154 burn with desire for a dark-complexioned woman. Taken together, they describe what many readers and scholars see as a bisexual love triangle, with the poet torn between two objects of desire.
This article walks through the strongest textual evidence, places it in its proper historical context, and explains what modern scholars actually conclude. Whether you are studying the sonnets, researching LGBTQ+ literary history, or simply curious about the man behind the most famous poems in English, here is what the sonnets suggest about Shakespeare’s sexuality.
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Was Shakespeare Bisexual? What the Sonnets Suggest
The short answer is that Shakespeare’s sonnets strongly suggest he was what we would now call bisexual, though he would never have used that word himself. The first 126 sonnets are addressed to a young man the poet calls his “lovely boy” and describes with the language of passionate, possessive love. The remaining sonnets turn to a woman known as the “Dark Lady,” and the desire there is overtly sexual.
Scholars have argued about this for centuries, and not everyone agrees on how to read the evidence. Some say the Fair Youth poems reflect patronage relationships or idealized friendship, not erotic desire. Others, including prominent Shakespearean scholars like Stanley Wells, have called the sonnets “literary proof positive” of a bisexual or gay identity.
The poet Don Paterson, in his commentary on the sonnets, writes that anyone reading them without preconceptions would conclude the speaker desired both men and women. What makes the question so slippery is that the word “bisexual” did not exist in Shakespeare’s time.
The concept of sexual orientation as an identity category is a modern invention. So when we ask whether Shakespeare was bisexual, we are applying a 2026-century framework to a 16th-century person. The sonnets cannot give us a tidy label, but they can show us where Shakespeare’s desire pointed, and the answer is: in more than one direction.
The Problem With Asking “Was Shakespeare Bisexual?”
Before examining specific sonnets, it helps to understand why this question is so complicated. The categories we use today to describe sexuality, like heterosexual, homosexual, and bisexual, did not exist in Elizabethan England.
The word “homosexual” was not coined until 1869. “Bisexual” entered English in the early 20th century, originally as a biological term before taking on its modern meaning.
In Shakespeare’s world, people did not think of sexuality as an identity. Acts were judged, not orientations. Sodomy was a crime under both church and secular law, but it was defined by specific sexual acts rather than by a category of person.
A man who had a wife and also desired men would not have seen himself as belonging to a different “type” of person. The framework simply did not exist.
This is why some scholars resist labeling Shakespeare at all. Professor Michael Dobson, director of the Shakespeare Institute, has pointed out that asking whether Shakespeare was “gay” imposes a modern identity category onto someone who would not have understood the question. He argues that Tudor passionate friendship between men allowed for expressions of love that we might now read as erotic.
That said, there is a risk of using this historical argument to erase the genuine same-sex desire in the sonnets. The poems are not just polite compliments to a friend. They are filled with jealousy, physical yearning, sleepless nights, and what one scholar called “ecstatic turmoil.”
Whatever label we use, the emotional intensity is unmistakable. And when the same poet also writes with burning desire about a woman, the evidence for dual desire becomes very hard to dismiss.
The Fair Youth Sonnets: 126 Love Poems to a Man
The single most important piece of evidence in the debate is the sheer number of sonnets addressed to a man. Of the 154 sonnets Shakespeare wrote, 126 are directed at a young male beloved who has come to be known as the “Fair Youth.” These poems make up the longest sustained sequence in the collection, and they are unmistakably love poems.
The sequence opens with the “procreation sonnets,” numbers 1 through 17, in which the speaker urges the young man to marry and have children. But even here, the language is intimate and possessive.
The speaker tells the young man that his beauty is too precious to waste, that the world needs his offspring, that failing to reproduce would be a kind of theft from nature. This is not the voice of a casual acquaintance. It is the voice of someone deeply invested in the young man’s life and legacy.
As the sequence progresses, the tone shifts from persuasion to outright devotion. In Sonnet 31, the speaker tells the young man that all his past loves now reside in the beloved’s breast: “Thy bosom is endeared with all hearts, / Which I by lacking have supposed dead.”
In Sonnet 109, he swears he could never truly be unfaithful: “For if I have ranged, him like that ruffian still.” The grammar is deliberately ambiguous, but the emotional commitment is clear.
What makes these sonnets so striking is the use of male pronouns throughout. The speaker addresses the beloved as “thou” and “he,” and the young man is called “my lovely boy” in Sonnet 126, the final Fair Youth poem. There is no ambiguity about the gender of the addressee.
Shakespeare is writing love poetry, with male pronouns, to another man, for 126 consecutive poems. Some scholars have argued that these poems reflect patronage relationships, where poets flattered wealthy young patrons with elaborate compliments.
But patronage poetry rarely includes the kind of emotional rawness we find here. Shakespeare’s speaker is jealous when the young man shows favor to a rival poet. He lies awake tormented by thoughts of the beloved. He begs for the young man’s love in terms that go far beyond professional courtesy.
Sonnet 20: The Most Important Poem in the Debate
If you read only one sonnet to understand the debate about Shakespeare’s sexuality, read Sonnet 20. It is the poem most frequently cited by scholars on both sides, and for good reason. It addresses the Fair Youth’s gender and beauty head-on with language that has been parsed and debated for over four hundred years.
The sonnet opens with an extraordinary image of nature creating the young man with feminine beauty:
A woman’s face with Nature’s own hand painted
Hast thou, the master-mistress of my passion;
A woman’s gentle heart, but not acquainted
With shifting change, as is false women’s fashion;
The phrase “master-mistress of my passion” is the line everyone returns to. Shakespeare is calling the young man both master and mistress, both male and female, the ruler and the beloved of his desire.
The young man has a woman’s face, a woman’s gentle heart, a woman’s eyes and complexion, but without what the poet sees as women’s fickleness. He is, in effect, the perfect beloved because he combines feminine beauty with masculine constancy.
Then comes the poem’s most famous and most debated couplet. Nature, having given the young man feminine beauty, adds one final feature:
But since she pricked thee out for women’s pleasure,
Mine be thy love, and thy love’s use their treasure.
This couplet has generated entire books of interpretation. The word “pricked” in Elizabethan English meant both “equipped” or “designated” and was also slang for penis. “Pricked thee out for women’s pleasure” can be read as: Nature gave you male anatomy for women’s sexual enjoyment.
The poet then claims the young man’s love for himself (“Mine be thy love”) while leaving physical sexuality to women (“thy love’s use their treasure”). Some readers see this as the poet accepting an emotional but non-physical same-sex bond.
Others argue it is a witty, rueful acknowledgment that the young man is sexually active with women while the poet claims his heart. Either way, the poem describes a man who is the “master-mistress” of another man’s “passion.” That is not the language of ordinary friendship.
The beauty of Sonnet 20 is that it works on multiple levels simultaneously. It can be read as a celebration of emotional same-sex love that stops short of the physical. It can also be read as a bisexual speaker expressing desire for a man while acknowledging that man’s relationships with women.
What it cannot be read as is a straightforward poem about platonic pals. The poem directly explores gender, desire, and the boundaries of love between men.
Sonnet 18 and the Beloved Young Man
“Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?” is arguably the most famous opening line in all of English poetry. What many people do not realize is that Sonnet 18 is addressed to the Fair Youth, a young man. The beloved whose beauty surpasses summer, whose “eternal summer shall not fade,” is male.
This matters because Sonnet 18 is so universally quoted, so often used at weddings and in Valentine’s cards, that its context has been stripped away. People assume it is about a woman. It is not.
Shakespeare is telling a young man that his beauty is more perfect and more lasting than any summer day, and that the poem itself will grant him immortality: “So long as men can breathe or eyes can see, / So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.”
If you ask whether Sonnet 18 is about a man or a woman, the answer is definitively a man. It falls squarely within the Fair Youth sequence, uses the same “thou” address, and is followed by Sonnet 19 which continues the same train of thought. The poem that most people associate with heterosexual romance is, in fact, a love poem to a young man.
The Dark Lady Sonnets: Desire for a Woman
Just as important as the Fair Youth sequence is what comes after it. Sonnets 127 through 154 shift focus to a woman known as the “Dark Lady.” If the Fair Youth sonnets prove Shakespeare could write passionate love poetry to a man, the Dark Lady sonnets prove he could write it to a woman too.
This is what makes the bisexual reading so compelling: both sequences exist, side by side, in the same collection. The same speaker who spent 126 poems adoring a young man then turns his attention to a woman with equal intensity.
The Dark Lady is described in terms that are the opposite of conventional Elizabethan beauty standards. She has dark skin, dark eyes, and dark hair, at a time when blonde and fair were the ideals.
Sonnet 130 famously mocks traditional love poetry by listing all the ways the Dark Lady falls short of cliched comparisons: “My mistress’ eyes are nothing like the sun; / Coral is far more red than her lips’ red.” Yet the poem ends with a declaration that she is as rare and beloved as any woman falsely praised by other poets.
What distinguishes the Dark Lady sonnets from the Fair Youth sonnets is the nature of the desire. Where the Fair Youth poems emphasize beauty, admiration, and emotional devotion, the Dark Lady poems are overtly sexual and anguished.
Sonnet 129 describes the torment of lust in language that is almost violent: “Th’expense of spirit in a waste of shame / Is lust in action.” Sonnet 144 directly references both beloveds, describing the poet caught between “a man right fair” and “a woman coloured ill,” suggesting a love triangle where the Dark Lady has seduced the Fair Youth.
The speaker’s relationship with the Dark Lady is tormented, dishonest, and self-loathing. He knows the affair is destructive but cannot stop himself. This is raw, physical, conflicted desire for a woman, and it sits in the same book as 126 love poems to a man.
Shakespeare’s Marriage and the Question of Dual Desire
Some readers assume that because Shakespeare was married and had three children, he must have been exclusively heterosexual. But marriage in Elizabethan England was as much an economic and social arrangement as a romantic one.
Shakespeare married Anne Hathaway in 1582, when he was 18 and she was 26, likely because she was already pregnant. Their first child, Susanna, was born six months after the wedding.
Shakespeare spent most of his career living in London while Anne remained in Stratford-upon-Avon. He visited home periodically, and the couple had twins, Hamnet and Judith, in 1585. But for roughly two decades, Shakespeare lived a largely separate life from his wife in the city where he wrote his plays and sonnets.
The distance does not prove anything about his sexuality, but it does complicate the picture of a conventional family man. The fact that Shakespeare married a woman and fathered children actually fits a bisexual reading rather than contradicting it.
Bisexuality means the capacity for desire toward more than one gender. A bisexual person can be married and still experience attraction to people of other genders. Shakespeare’s marriage to Anne is entirely consistent with someone who also felt deep desire for a young man.
What Modern Scholars Actually Say
The scholarly community is not unanimous, but the weight of opinion has shifted significantly over the past century. In the Victorian era, many critics went to extraordinary lengths to explain away the male addressee of the Fair Youth sonnets.
Some argued the poems were literary exercises, that the male pronouns were merely conventional, or that the relationship was purely one of patronage. These readings often reflected the discomfort of the critics more than the evidence of the texts.
Today, the consensus has moved firmly toward acknowledging the homoerotic content of the sonnets. Sir Stanley Wells, one of the most respected Shakespeare scholars of the modern era, wrote that the sonnets constitute “literary proof positive” of Shakespeare’s bisexual or gay identity.
He argued that the emotional intensity, the physical imagery, and the sustained devotion of the Fair Youth sequence simply cannot be dismissed as conventional friendship. The poet Don Paterson, in his acclaimed 2010 commentary “Reading Shakespeare’s Sonnets,” put it even more directly.
Paterson wrote that the sonnets describe a speaker who is “clearly and unambiguously” in love with a young man, and that any reading that denies this is “just being willfully deaf to the poems.” He sees the sequence as the record of a real emotional and erotic entanglement, not a literary exercise.
Greg Doran, former Artistic Director of the Royal Shakespeare Company, has spoken about reading the sonnets through a gay lens and finding them powerfully resonant. He has noted that the plays, too, contain relationships of intense same-sex devotion.
Not everyone agrees. Some scholars, like Professor Michael Dobson, caution against applying modern identity categories to historical figures. They argue that the line between intense friendship and erotic desire was drawn differently in Shakespeare’s time. But even these scholars generally acknowledge that the sonnets contain powerful expressions of same-sex love.
The Mr. W.H. Mystery: Who Was the Fair Youth?
When the sonnets were published in 1609 by the printer Thomas Thorpe, they carried a mysterious dedication “to the only begetter of these ensuing sonnets, Mr. W.H.” This dedication has spawned centuries of speculation about who the Fair Youth really was, and it remains one of the great unsolved puzzles of literary history.
The two leading candidates are Henry Wriothesley, the Earl of Southampton, and William Herbert, the Earl of Pembroke. Wriothesley was Shakespeare’s patron in the early 1590s, and Shakespeare had already dedicated two long narrative poems to him.
He was young, beautiful, and unmarried at the time the procreation sonnets were likely written, which fits perfectly. The problem is that his initials do not quite match “W.H.” unless you reverse them.
William Herbert fits the initials better and was also a young, handsome nobleman. Some scholars believe the procreation sonnets were written to persuade Herbert to marry, which he resisted for years despite family pressure.
The truth is that we may never know for certain who Mr. W.H. was, or whether the dedication even refers to the Fair Youth rather than to someone involved in publishing the poems. But the identity of the real person behind the sonnets matters less than what the poems themselves say.
Whoever the Fair Youth was, the poems describe a man Shakespeare loved with an intensity that transcends ordinary friendship.
Reading the Sonnets as a Story of Love and Betrayal
One of the most overlooked ways to approach this question is to read the sonnets as a continuous narrative rather than isolated poems. When you read them in sequence, a story emerges.
The speaker begins by admiring and urging the young man toward marriage. The relationship deepens into passionate devotion. Then a rival poet appears, competing for the young man’s favor, and the speaker feels betrayed when the young man shows interest in others.
Then the Dark Lady enters, and everything fractures. The speaker is drawn into a sexual affair that fills him with shame and self-loathing. Worse, the Dark Lady and the Fair Youth begin a relationship with each other, and the speaker watches his two beloveds betray him together.
Sonnet 144 lays out the full triangle: “Two loves I have of comfort and despair, / Which like two spirits do suggest me still.” One is a man, one is a woman, and both have hurt him.
Read this way, the sonnets are not a collection of occasional poems. They are the record of an emotional life, a story of someone who loved a man and a woman and was devastated by both. This narrative arc is what gives the bisexual reading its strongest foundation.
It is not that some sonnets happen to address a man and others happen to address a woman. It is that the same speaker experiences love and desire for both, and the poems trace the consequences.
Modern LGBTQ+ readers have found this narrative deeply resonant. The bisexuality visible in the sonnets is not theoretical or academic. It is lived, messy, painful, and real.
The speaker’s inability to choose, his attraction to both the Fair Youth and the Dark Lady, his torment when they turn to each other instead of him, all of this will feel familiar to anyone who has experienced the complexity of desire across gender lines.
Evidence From the Plays: Antonio and Same-Sex Devotion
The sonnets are not the only place where same-sex devotion appears in Shakespeare’s work. Several of the plays feature characters whose love for someone of the same gender is central to the story.
The most striking examples are the two Antonios, one in “The Merchant of Venice” and one in “Twelfth Night.” In “The Merchant of Venice,” Antonio’s love for Bassanio is the engine of the plot.
Antonio risks his life, literally offering a pound of flesh, to help Bassanio pursue Portia. His famous opening line, “In sooth, I know not why I am so sad,” gains new weight when you read it as the melancholy of a man watching the person he loves court someone else. Antonio’s devotion is described in language of sacrifice and abandon that echoes the sonnets.
In “Twelfth Night,” Antonio rescues and cares for Sebastian with a tenderness that goes far beyond ordinary friendship. He follows Sebastian into a dangerous city at great personal risk, saying, “I do adore thee so.”
Greg Doran and other directors have noted that these Antonio characters may reflect something autobiographical. Shakespeare returned to this archetype of the selflessly devoted older man at least twice, suggesting it meant something to him personally.
The plays cannot prove anything about Shakespeare’s private life. They are works of fiction, and characters are not their authors. But when the same patterns of intense same-sex devotion appear in both the most personal poems and the most popular plays, it is reasonable to see a through-line.
FAQs
What is the gayest Shakespeare sonnet?
Sonnet 20 is widely considered the most explicitly homoerotic poem in the sequence. It calls the young man the ‘master-mistress of my passion’ and describes him as having a woman’s face, gentle heart, and feminine beauty. The poem directly addresses the beloved’s gender and the nature of the speaker’s desire, making it the sonnet most often cited in discussions of Shakespeare’s same-sex attraction.
Who was Shakespeare’s male lover?
We do not know for certain. The Fair Youth addressed in sonnets 1 through 126 is believed to be either Henry Wriothesley, the Earl of Southampton, or William Herbert, the Earl of Pembroke. The dedication in the 1609 quarto references ‘Mr. W.H.,’ but scholars still debate whether this refers to the Fair Youth, to a publisher, or to someone else entirely.
Why is Sonnet 116 so famous?
Sonnet 116 is famous for its powerful definition of true love as constant and unchanging: ‘Love is not love which alters when it alteration finds.’ It is one of the most quoted poems in the English language, frequently read at weddings. It falls within the Fair Youth sequence, meaning its famous meditation on enduring love is addressed to a young man.
Is Sonnet 18 about a guy?
Yes. Sonnet 18 (‘Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?’) is part of the Fair Youth sequence, sonnets 1 through 126, all of which are addressed to a young man. The beloved whose beauty outshines summer is male. This surprises many readers because the poem is so often assumed to be about a woman.
Conclusion: What the Sonnets Tell Us
So, was Shakespeare bisexual? The sonnets offer the strongest evidence we have, and they point clearly toward someone who experienced deep desire for both a man and a woman. Shakespeare wrote 126 love poems to a young man and 28 tormented poems of sexual desire to a woman, and he placed them in the same collection.
He gave us a speaker who calls a man his “master-mistress” and a woman his undoing. Whatever word we choose for that, the sonnets suggest a heart that loved in more than one direction.
We cannot interview Shakespeare or ask him how he identified, and the identity categories of his time do not map neatly onto ours. But the poems survive, and they speak in a voice of unmistakable passion. The most honest answer to whether Shakespeare was bisexual is to let the sonnets answer for him. They suggest a man who loved deeply, painfully, and across the boundaries of gender, and who had the genius to make that love permanent in words that still burn four centuries later.