Play of the Month: Henry IV, Part I

I just finished studying my fourteenth Shakespeare play, Henry IV, Part I, which is a work of the Henriad—a group of William Shakespeare's history plays depicting the rise of the English kings.  Believed to have been written no later than 1597, the play dramatizes part of the reign of King Henry IV of England, and can be appreciated as both a single play and a sequel to Richard II, another work of the Henriad that I studied last month.

The play begins with the battle at Homildon Hill, a conflict between English and Scottish armies in Northumberland, England. The war ends with the victory of the English army, led by Henry Percy, 1st Earl of Northumberland, and his son Sir Henry Percy, nicknamed Hotspur, with many Scots leaders and chivalry taken prisoner. King Henry orders Hotspur to turn in all Scots captives, making a new grievance—on top of many old ones that the Percys had with the Crown. Consequently, they ally themselves with Owain Glyndŵr, a Welsh leader, Sir Edmund Mortimer, heir appointed by Richard II, and Earl of Douglas to go into open rebellion against the English king. 

Only months later, another war breaks out—The Battle of Shrewsbury—and the play ends at Shrewsbury after the battle. The loss of Hotspur and the fight has dealt a serious blow to the rebel cause. King Henry is pleased with the outcome, not least because it gives him a chance to execute Thomas Percy, the Earl of Worcester, one of his chief enemies (though previously one of his closest allies). Meanwhile, Prince Henry, nicknamed Hal by his tavern buddy Falstaff, demonstrates his mercy by ordering the Earl of Douglas—now a prisoner of war—to be released without ransom. However, the rebellion continues, now led by the Archbishop of York and the Earl of Northumberland. This inconclusive ending sets the stage for another play, Henry IV, Part 2.

In parallel to the political conflict between King Henry and a rebellious faction of nobles, the play depicts the escapades of Prince Hal (Prince Henry, the future King Henry V), and his eventual return to court and favour. Hal meets with Falstaff and his associates at the Boar's Head Tavern. Falstaff and Hal are close, but Hal enjoys insulting and making fun of Falstaff. In a soliloquy, Hal makes it clear that he does not plan to continue in his present lifestyle forever: Hal aims to re-assume his high place in court by proving himself to his father.

Therefore,  the Boar's Head Inn—run by landlady Mistress Quickly—is a main scene of the play, full of laughter, bantering, joking, as well as philosophical reflections, which make the otherwise serious history play much more interesting and engaging. As I explored it further, I was intrigued by the story about the inn, which once stood in Eastcheap, London: the inn was established before 1537, but destroyed in 1666 in the Great Fire of London. It was soon rebuilt and continued operation until the late 18th century, with the building finally demolished in 1831. The boar's head sign of the building was kept, and is now installed in the Shakespeare's Globe Theatre. 

Here are some of the dialogues and soliloquies that impressed me most, presented in modern English translation.

Act I, Scene 2

PRINCE HENRY: 

I understand these men, and will put up with their wild behavior and their laziness for now. In this way, I will be like the sun, which allows the vile, infectious clouds to cover up his beauty from the rest of the world. But then, when he decides that he has been missed enough, he can amaze the world by breaking through the disgusting, ugly mists and vapors that were almost strangling him. If the entire year was a vacation, then playing would become as boring as working. Because they are so rare, we look forward to vacations, and enjoy them as unusual occurrences. So when I leave behind this wild behavior and accept that it is my duty to become king—even though I never asked for it—I will be better than people think I will be. I will prove people wrong. Just like a bright piece of metal, put against a dull background, my transformation will be even more remarkable because of the contrast with my past self. I will use my misbehavior for my own advantage, making up for lost time when people least expect it. 

Act I, Scene 3

EARL OF WORCESTER:

Then let's talk once more about your Scottish prisoners. Release them right now without a ransom. Build a relationship with Douglas and use him to build an army in Scotland. I know that he'll help you and I will send you a letter soon, explaining why. 

[To NORTHUMBERLAND] As for you, my lord, with your son busy in Scotland, you must secretly win the confidence of that noble, loved religious man, the Archbishop. 

HOTSPUR (HENRY PERCY):

The Archbishop of York, do you mean?

EARL OF WORCESTER:

Yes, since he's deeply affected by the death of his brother, the Lord Scroop, in Bristol. What I am telling you is not just guesswork. It has been decided, plotted, and put in place, and they are now just waiting for the right opportunity to attack.

Act II, Scene 3

LADY PERCY:

Oh my good lord, why are you always alone? Why have you banned me from your bed for the past two weeks? Tell me, sweet lord, what has taken away your appetite, your desire, and your precious sleep? Why do you stare at the ground so much, and jump so often when you are sitting alone? Why have you lost the color in your cheeks? Why have you taken away the intimacy that is my pleasure and my right as your wife, and instead given it to this dark way of thinking and bad-tempered sadness? I have watched you in your restless sleep, and have heard you murmuring stories about war, as if you are giving commands to an army. You have cried out, "Have courage! To the field!" You have talked about advances and retreats, about trenches, tents, barriers, ramparts, defensive walls. You have talked about different cannons, about prisoners being ransomed, soldiers dying, and all of the things that happen in a violent battle. Your soul has also been at war, and has been disturbing you in your sleep. There have been beads of sweat on your forehead, that look like bubbles in a swirling stream. There have been strange expressions on your face, like the types we see when men hold their breath at a terrible, sudden request. Oh, what do these signs mean? You are plotting something serious, and I want to know what it is, or else you do not love me. 

HOTSPUR (HENRY PERCY):

Come on, will you come and say goodbye? When I am on horseback, I will swear to love you forever. But listen, Kate. From now on you must not question me about where I am going, or the reasons why. If I must go, then I must. That's that. Therefore this evening I must leave you, dear Kate. I know you are wise, but you can only be as wise as the wife of Harry Percy should be; I know you are loyal, but you are still a woman. And no woman can keep a secret like you can, especially since you will not be able to speak about something you don't know. So that is as far as I will trust you, sweet Kate. 

Act II, Scene 4

PRINCE HENRY: 

I've been with three or four blockheads and somewhere between sixty and eighty cases of wine. I have been with the lowest of the lowly. Sir, I am now best friends with three of these bartenders, and can even call them by their first names—Tom, Dick, and Francis. They have promised me that even though I am just the Prince of Wales, I am a king of politeness in their eyes. They told me straight that I'm not a pompous idiot, like Falstaff, but a worthy fellow, a determined lad, a good boy even—I swear to God they call me that. When I am King of England, I will have the support of all the good lads in Eastcheap. When you drink a lot, they call it being "dyed red," and when you take a break from drinking, they cough loudly, and tell you to finish your drink. All in all, I got so good at drinking in fifteen minutes that I can be a good drinking buddy with people of any social class. I am telling you Ned, you didn't help yourself in missing this encounter. But sweet Ned, I will make your name even sweeter by giving you a penny's worth of sugar. I got this from an apprentice bartender, a boy who has never said anything in his life except for, "That'll be eight shillings and sixpence," and "You're welcome," and sometimes, "Just a minute, sir. Bring a pint of bastard to the Half-moon room," or something like that. But Ned, to waste some time before Falstaff gets here, will you stand in a side room while I question one of the inexperienced apprentices about why he gave me the sugar. Keep calling out the name "Francis," so that he keeps having to reply, "Just a minute, sir." Go to this room, and I'll show you something worth remembering.

Act II, Scene 4

FALSTAFF:

Enough, good pint of ale. Enough, good liquor-brain. 

[To PRINCE HENRY] Harry, I am very surprised at where you're choosing to spend your time, and who you're choosing to spend it with. For, although the camomile grows faster the more it is trodden on, with youth, the more it is wasted, the quicker it fades away. I am trusting that you are my son, partly because your mother says so, partly because I believe it.  But mainly because the evil glint in your eye and your hanging lower lip persuade me of it. If you are my son, then this is my point. If you are my son, then why are you so mocked? Why does the blessed sun in heaven waste its time eating blackberries? That's a question I should not need to ask. Should the son of the King of England be a thief and steal purses? That's a question I do need to ask. There is a thing, Harry, which you will have heard of, called pitch. This pitch, as writers have noted, makes you dirty, just like the company you keep. For Harry, now I speak to you not because of the drinking, but actually weeping.  I'm not saying this as a joke, but with sincere emotions; not just with words, but in misery, too. Yet, there is one virtuous man that I have often seen you with, but I don't know his name. 

PRINCE HENRY: 

What type of man is he, your Majesty?

FALSTAFF:

A handsome, dignified man, indeed, and quite overweight. He always looks cheerful, is quite attractive, and has a very noble demeanor about him. I would say that he is about fifty, or, my goodness, possibly closer to sixty. I remember now—his name is Falstaff. If that man is at all inclined to wickedness, then he has deceived me, Harry, because I see goodness in his character. If a tree is known by its fruit, and the fruit by its tree, then I can positively say that there is a lot of goodness in that Falstaff. Keep him in your company, and get rid of the rest. Tell me now, you naughty boy, tell me—where have you been this last month?

Act III, Scene 1

MORTIMER:

The Archdeacon has divided it into three parts very equally. I will take all of England that is south-east of the Trent and Severn Rivers; Owen Glendower, you will take the whole of Wales, and everything that is west of the River Severn, including all of the fertile land in that area. 

[To HOTSPUR] And you, dear cousin, will get everything that is left, north of the River Trent. That is our three-way contract, all drawn up, with our own seals on each copy. We can all sign the agreement tonight.  And then tomorrow, cousin Percy, you, me, and Worcester will set off to meet your father and the Scottish army at Shrewsbury, as we had agreed. My father-in-law Glendower is not ready yet, and we won't need his help for another two weeks. 

[To GLENDOWER] You have that time to build an army of your workers, your friends, and your neighbors. 

HOTSPUR (HENRY PERCY):

I don't think that my share of the land, everything north of Burton here is equal to your shares. Look how the river bends here, and cuts out a huge semi-circle—a chunk out of some of my best land. I'm going to build a dam, and force the smooth water of the Trent River to go a different way, to run straighter. That way it won't make such an deep cut into my portion of the land, and won't rob me of the fertile river valley.

Act 3, Scene 2

HENRY IV

I must say that up to now, you have acted like Richard did when I first returned to Ravenspurgh from France. I recognize that Percy is acting a lot like I did then. Now, on my sword, and on my soul as well, he has a more valid claim to the kingdom than you do, as you are a poor imitation of a successor. For without a right to the throne—without anything which even resembles a right to the throne—he has filled our fields with troops. He leads an army against the King, into the jaws of a lion. And even though he is no older than you, he leads old lords and distinguished bishops into bloody battles and violent deeds. He has received such honor already from defeating the renowned Douglas! Hotspur's noble actions, his fierce assaults, and his great military reputation have meant he is known in every Christian country as one of the best soldiers there is. This Hotspur, this Mars in baby clothes, this infant warrior, has defeated Douglas three times, captured him once, freed him again, and now made him an ally. Now they pose a huge problem in rebelling against my throne. What do you have to say about this? Percy, Northumberland, The Archbishop of York, Douglas, Mortimer— they all have formed a league against us and are openly rebelling. But why am I telling you about my foes, when you are my closest and most loved enemy? With your lowly fear, your base behavior, and your bad temper, you are very likely to fight against me under Percy. I wouldn't be surprised if you followed Hotspur at his heels like a dog, and bowed to him when he frowns—that is how corrupt you are. 

PRINCE HENRY: 

Don't think that. It won't happen. May God forgive whoever has turned your good opinion against me! I will make up for everything that I have done by killing Percy, and at the triumphant end of some battle I will be worthy of calling myself your son. Only when I am wearing clothes covered in blood and my face is stained with blood, will I be able to wash this away and wash my shame away with it. That will be the day, whenever it comes, that this honorable and renowned child, this brave Hotspur—a knight who is praised for everything and by everyone—will happen to meet with the disregarded Harry. If only every honor he had could be multiplied and every shame on my head could be doubled! For there will come a time when I will make this youth from the north give me his glorious honors in exchange for my offenses. Percy is like my agent, my lord, collecting glorious honors on my behalf. And I will make sure that he gives back every honor to me, even the smallest one, or I will tear it from his heart instead by killing him. I promise this to you here, in the name of God.  And if God is willing, I will do these things, and I ask you to forgive the long-standing wounds I have caused with my lack of self-control. If not, death will cancel all of my promises. I would rather die a hundred thousand deaths than break even the smallest part of this promise. 

Act IV, Scene 1

EARL OF WORCESTER:

Still, I do wish that your father was here. The nature of our mission needs us all to be united together. Some people, who don't know that he is sick, will just think that the Earl stayed away out of wisdom, loyalty, and absolute dislike of what we are doing.And think about how these thoughts would affect people who are already scared, and raise doubts among our followers. For as you very well know, since we are the side making the attack, we have to try to avoid careful scrutiny. We have to close up all holes, all loopholes that people who are more rational might look through to criticize us. The fact that your father is not here opens the curtains, and shows ignorant people things that they had never been scared of before. 

HOTSPUR (HENRY PERCY):

You are exaggerating. I would rather think of his absence in this way: it makes our mission better.  It gives our mission a better reputation, more boldness than if the Earl was here. It will make men think that if we can raise an army to stand against the King without his help, when he does join in the fighting, we will be able to topple the kingdom completely. Everything is okay, we still have all of our limbs. 

EARL OF DOUGLAS:

I should hope so.  We don't understand the word fear in Scotland. 

Act IV, Scene 2

FALSTAFF:

If I'm not ashamed of my soldiers, then I'm a pickled fish! I have misused my position with the King terribly. In return for the one hundred and fifty men I have made fight in the army, I have received over three hundred pounds! All the men I have found have been good house-owners and the sons of successful farmers. I found men who were engaged to be married, men whose weddings had already been announced twice in church. I found a group of such privileged cowards, that they would rather hear the devil talk than hear the drums of war; they are more scared when they hear gunfire than a bird or a duck that has actually been shot! I only looked for the pampered citizens, whose hearts were about the same size as a pin-head, and they paid me so that they wouldn't have to fight. So now my whole section is made up of flag-bearers, corporals, lieutenants, gentlemen of companies, and crooks who looked as disgusting as that cheap painted wall hanging of Lazarus, where the dogs are licking the sores on his body. These men were never meant to be soldiers—they are servants who have been fired for lying, they are younger sons to younger brothers, runaway barmen, and unemployed stable boys. They are like diseases in a world full of calm and peace, they are ten times more dishonorable and disgusting than a tattered old flag. And I've had to replace the men who have bribed me with these idiots. You would think that I had found a hundred and fifty men, dirty from looking after pigs and from eating scraps and husks. One crazy guy saw us all marching and told me that it looked like I had taken all of the dead bodies from the gallows and made them fight again— no-one has even seen something so terrifying! I can't march through Coventry with them, that's for sure. These men march with their legs wide apart, as if they had chains on their ankles, which makes a lot of sense, as I got most of them from prison. There's only about one and a half shirts between the lot of them, and the half shirt is really just two napkins tied together and thrown over his shoulders like some kind of herald in a sleeveless coat. Even the whole shirt, to tell you the truth, was stolen from the bar owner at Saint Albans or from the red-nosed innkeeper at Daventry. But that doesn't matter, they should be able to steal people's laundry out of their hedges. 

Act V, Scene 2

EARL OF WORCESTER:

The we would be ruined. There is no way that the King is going to keep his word and forgive us. He will always be suspicious and will find another reason to punish us for this rebellion. This suspicion will always be watching over us. Treason is like a fox—however tame it is, however cared for, even locked up, it still will have the inherited trait of savageness from its ancestors. Whether we look sad or happy, people will lie about our looks. And we will have to act like oxen at their stalls, only treated better when we are close to being slaughtered. My nephew's disloyalty might be forgotten with time, since it could be put down to youth and a bad temper. Also, his nickname lets him act like this—he is just the hare-brained Hotspur, controlled by his rash impulses. All of his offenses are going to be blamed on me and on his father. We encouraged him. And since we were the ones who originally convinced him to start this rebellion, we are the ones who will have to pay for it. Therefore, good Vernon, let's not tell Harry what the King has offered. 

VERNON:

Say what you think is best; I will back you up. 

Act V, Scene 4

HOTSPUR (HENRY PERCY):

Oh, Harry, you have taken away my youth. I can handle the fact that my fragile life is over, but I can't deal with all of the honors you have won from me. The thought of that hurts me more than the physical wound your sword has left. Thoughts need life, life depends on time, and even time, which watches over our world, has to have an end. Oh, I could tell prophecies, but the pale and cold hand of death stops me from talking. No, Percy. You are dust, and food for— [He dies] 

PRINCE HENRY: 

For worms, brave Percy. Goodbye, brave thing. It's amazing how much your excessive ambition has already shrunk! When that body was alive, a whole kingdom wasn't even enough to contain your ambition. But now this small patch of dirty ground is enough room. The same ground that your dead body lies upon doesn't have a single living man on it who is anywhere near as brave as you. If you were able to hear these compliments, I wouldn't be so enthusiastic in giving you them. But now I will cover your injured face with my scarf, and I will thank myself on your behalf for doing these acts of respect. Farewell, and I hope you can take your praises with you to heaven! Let your shame stay with you in your grave, but keep it away from your tombstone.

(He spieth FALSTAFF on the ground)

What? My old friend? Even with all of this flesh, you couldn't manage to hold on to a little bit of life? Poor Jack, goodbye. I would rather have lost a better soldier than lost you. Oh, I would really miss you, if I were in love with vanity. Death hasn't claimed anyone as fat as you today, but this battle has claimed many men more noble than you. I will make sure that you are disemboweled soon; until then, lie here next to the noble Percy in his blood. 

(Exit PRINCE HENRY, FALSTAFF riseth up)

FALSTAFF

Disemboweled? If you disembowel me today, I'll let you preserve my body in salt and eat me for dinner tomorrow! God, I had to pretend to be dead, or that savage Scotsman would have definitely killed me. A fake? No, I am not a fake. To die is to be a faker, because a dead body is an impersonation of a living one. However, pretending to be dead when you are actually alive is not being a faker, but is actually being the best kind of living person you can be. The most important thing about bravery is being careful with it, and by being careful, I saved my life. Heavens, I am still afraid this explosive Percy, even though he is dead. What if he's faking too, and he just gets up? I reckon he'd be a better faker than I was. So, I'll just make sure he's dead, and then I can say that I killed him. Why couldn't he just get up, like I did? No-one could deny this but me, and there is no-one else here. Therefore, sir, [He stabs the body] with this new wound in your thigh you are coming with me. [He picks up HOTSPUR and carries him on his back]