Finally a HAPPY woman in Richard II

While reading Richard II, it became evident to me that this was a male dominant play.  Unlike the last two plays we’d read, the women character’s appearances were few and far between.  In addition, when the women in this play were highlighted, they never accomplished their objectives or achieved what they set out for.    

For example, in 1.2, we meet our first female character, The Duchess of Gloucester.  In this scene she is trying to persuade John of Gaunt to avenge his brother’s death.  “In suff’ring thus thy brother to be slaughtered/Thou show’st the naked pathway to thy life,/Teaching stern murder how to butcher thee./That which in mean men we entitle patience/Is pale cold cowardice in noble breasts./What shall I say? To safeguard thine own life/The best way is to venge my Gloucester’s death” (1.2.30-36) Clearly, she is going through great pains to gain justice for her murdered husband.  Despite her efforts, John of Gaunt refuses to help her in her quest for revenge.  Defeated, she leaves with these final words: “Desolate, Desolate will I hence and die./The last leave of thee takes my weeping eye” (1.2.73-74).  After her failed objective, The Duchess of Gloucester gives up on life and retires to die.

Similarly, Queen Isabel tragically does not obtain what she wishes for.  In 3.4, The Queen eneters the garden in an effort to cheer up and find peace of mind.  Despite her attendants’ efforts at distracting her, she cannot take her mind off of her woes.  Then, instead of finding a remedy, she overhears the fate of her husband, which sends her even further into despair: “What, was I born to this, that my sad look/Should grace the triumph of great Bolingbroke?/Gard’ner, for telling me these news of woe,/Pray God the plants thou graft’st may never grow” (3.4.99-102).  In 5.1, The Queen suggests anything she can so that she and Richard can remain together.  This too, however, is to no avail.  Our last image of the Queen is a banished and devastated wife saying a final goodbye to her fallen husband.  Needless to say, things did not go according to her wishes.

Finally, in 5.2, we meet the one female in this play who valiantly succeeds in her mission: The Duchess of York.  After discovering that Aumerle is involved in an assassination plot against King Henry, Duke of York is adament about turning his son into the authorites.  Dutchess of York makes it her mission to do everything in her power to save her only son and bloodline.  In doing so, she abandons her husband’s side and, at one point, even orders her son to “Strike him [York]” (5.2.87).  At the end of the scene, she exclaims with extreme confidence: “Spur, post, and get before him to the King,/And beg thy pardon ere he do accuse thee./I’ll not be long behind—though I be old,/I doubt not but to ride as fast as York—/And never will I rise up from the ground/Till Bolingbroke have pardoned thee” (5.2.112-17).  When King Henry is confronted with both York and the Duchess, he is ultimately moved by The Duchess’ relentless pleads for her son’s pardon.  Her success in achieving her goal marks her as the only successful female in this play—a feat that I consider worth noting!     

The Burden of Power

Immediately after Henry IV puts the crown he seized from Richard II on his head he inherits a kingdom's worth of troubles: threats to his legitimacy, Welsh blades itching to find themselves down his throat, and all the weights of statecraft and reputation hanging heavy on his shoulders. The play opens with a speech to this effect: "So shaken as we are, so wan with care/ Find we a time for frighted peace to pant/ And breathe short-winded accents of new broils..." (1.1 1-3) One wonders what this Henry Bolingbroke wants with the powers of Kingship, since the only thing Henry IV seems be be doing with his royal privilege is scrambling to maintain his power from threats internal (Mortimer and Northumberland) and external (the Scots and the Welsh led by Owain Glyndwr). This and his heir-apparent is a constant drag on his reputation.
It is easy to see why the Eastcheap lifestyle of raucous and bawdy merrymaking appeals so much to Prince Harry, considering what his father goes through on a daily basis. Knowingly, Falstaff, his drinking buddy, comments "when thou art a king, as God save thy grace- majesty/ I should say, for grace thou wilt have none-" (1.2 14-15) to suggest that the Prince would no longer be able to enjoy himself when he assumes the throne; he would lose his 'grace'. Prince Harry himself seems to believe he can readily assume the throne when the time comes, looking even better shining against a filthy background: "My reformation, glittering o'er my fault/ Shall show more goodly and attract more eyes/Than that which hath no foil to set it off" (1.2 191-3). On the surface he seems to believe he will be an excellent king, rising like a glorious sun, yet he idles about with thieves rather than practicing statecraft. One wonders if he is ignorant to all of the responsibilities that come with the crown like his beleaguered father as Duke of Lancaster before ascension.
While his son fools around in the underworld King Henry is under assault from all sides. "That great magician, damned Glyndwr" is Henry's known threat, but Hotspur and Northumberland also plot behind his back for the sake of Edmund Mortimer, Hotspur's brother. This is going on while Prince Harry and Poins conspire to play a prank on the fat knight Falstaff. The juxtaposition is marvelous: conspirators in jest with the Prince, and conspirators in warfare within the court. Prince Harry in disguise scares Falstaff away after he robs a fat purse and then goes to return it. In a sense, Prince Harry is governing much more effectively than the titled ruler, who is so consumed with protecting his position that he may as well not even exist to his subjects. Harry is much more real to the people (and more likable) than veiled hell of the court.

Come Roundly or say what you mean!

Why doesn't Shakespeare just say what he means? Or why does he take so long to say something simple? These were questions brought up in my group last Friday. For some reason this was a question I have always taken for granted having forever been fascinated by sounds. And who else has better sounds than Shakespeare? In my mind it was an automatic response, that Shakespeare's long windedness was there to create a parade of sounds. I'm so enchanted I have never paused to think about the function of the language. Architect Frank Lloyd Wright's famous guidelines of design was " form follows function". Does the same apply to Shakespeare's language or is it all just a glorious form without function?

There may be no better person's language to break down than Sir. John Falstaff. In Act 2 sc 2
"FALSTAFF
I am accursed to rob in that thief's company: the
rascal hath removed my horse, and tied him I know
not where. If I travel but four foot by the squier
further afoot, I shall break my wind. Well, I doubt
not but to die a fair death for all this, if I
'scape hanging for killing that rogue. I have
forsworn his company hourly any time this two and
twenty years, and yet I am bewitched with the
rogue's company. If the rascal hath not given me
medicines to make me love him, I'll be hanged; it
could not be else: I have drunk medicines. Poins!
Hal! a plague upon you both! Bardolph! Peto!
I'll starve ere I'll rob a foot further. An 'twere
not as good a deed as drink, to turn true man and to
leave these rogues, I am the veriest varlet that
chewed with a tooth. Eight yards of uneven
ground is threescore and ten miles afoot with me;
and the stony-hearted villains know it well enough:
a plague upon it when thieves cannot be true one to another!
Whew! A plague upon you all! Give me my horse, you
rogues; give me my horse, and be hanged!

First this speech serves the practical function of setting the scene for Elizabethan audiences. In our own theatres today with projections, realistic sets, and modern sound design, a stolen horse could be shown in a variety of different ways. However for The King's men this was not an option. The Globe theatre had no scenery it was a fixed space that was altered minimally for performances. If Shakespeare wanted the audiences to see something they would have to hear it described through the actors on the stage.
It takes Falstaff eighteen lines to tell his friends to quit the joke and give him back his horse. Had this been a contemporary play Falstaff probably just would have said something along the lines of " Give me my #$%^ horse back before I kill you bros, remind me why I hang out with you again F#$%". However the wealth of information provided by Falstaff is beyond the quick to the point prose of today. For one thing amongst the hyperbolic complaining there is a real sense of affection towards Poins and Hal even as Falstaff threatens to kill them with the lines " Yet I am bewitched with the Rogue's company.... " If the rascal hath not given medicines to make me love him, I'll be hanged". These lines add so much depth to Falstaff's character, not mention create a context for the relationship between himself and Hal. Within a speech that at first appears as verbose hot air that rambles only for comical purpose show cases the unconditional love Falstaff has for Hal. This love and relationship established here in this speech serves as a foil to the relationship to Hal and King Henry. King Henry has none of this sort of love for his own son and confesses early on within the play his desire for his son to be Harry Percy. All of this creating a deeper complexity and context for future action within the play. It is in this speech which proves that form does indeed follow function!