Play of the Month: Henry VIII

I just finished studying my twenty-first Shakespeare play, The Famous History of the Life of King Henry the Eighth, often shortened to Henry VIII, a history play about the English King. The narrative unfolds with political intrigue, marriages, and the formation of the Church of England, ending with the baptism of the infant daughter Anne Boleyn bore to Henry VIII, the future Queen Elizabeth I. 

Exploring the dynamics of power, the complexities of royal relationships, and the consequences of political maneuvering, the play is a collaborative work by William Shakespeare and John Fletcher, an English playwright who succeeded William Shakespeare as house playwright for the King's Men. During his lifetime and during the Stuart Restoration, his fame rivalled Shakespeare's. To me, an anecdote makes this play particularly interesting: during its performance at the Globe Theatre in 1613, a cannon shot employed for special effects ignited the theatre's thatched roof and beams, burning the original Globe building to the ground.

As usual, I gained interesting insight into medieval English history and culture through the play, apart from enjoying its fascinating stories and plot development. The first thing I learned was about the Field of the Cloth of Gold, which was a summit meeting between King Henry VIII of England and King Francis I of France from 7 to 24 June 1520. Held at Balinghem, between Ardres in France and Guînes in the English Pale of Calais, it was an opulent display of wealth by both kings, aimed at strengthening the bond of friendship between the two kings following the Anglo-French treaty of 1514. 

The second thing I learned was about the term praemunire, which was defined in English history as the assertion or maintenance of papal jurisdiction, or any other foreign jurisdiction or claim of supremacy in England, against the supremacy of the monarch, with the Statute of Praemunire enacted in 1392 to govern related offenses. It was later reaffirmed by the Statute in Restraint of Appeals (Ecclesiastical Appeals Act 1532) in the reign of Henry VIII and was used to remove Cardinal Wolsey from power. 

The third thing that intrigued me was the history of Whitehall, the main residence of the English monarchs from 1530 until 1698. Whitehall was at one time the largest palace in Europe, with more than 1,500 rooms, before being overtaken by the expanding Palace of Versailles, which was to reach 2,400 rooms. However, before Henry VIII moved the royal residence to Whitehall in 1530, it had been known as York Place, the residence of Cardinal Wolsey in London. At that time, York House was rivalled by only Lambeth Palace (residence of the Archbishop of Canterbury) as the greatest house in the capital city, even including the King's palaces. 

Finally, I gained insight into court trials and royal ceremonies, including coronations and baptisms. In particular, I was fascinated by the royal tradition where the canopy over Queen Anne Boleyn was carried by four barons from the Cinque Ports, an Old French term literally meaning "five harbours". In its broader sense, Cinque Ports refer to a historic group of coastal towns in south-east England (predominantly in Kent and Sussex), with its five initial members being Hastings, New Romney, Hythe, Dover and Sandwich.

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

Act 1, Scene 2

KING HENRY VIII:

Things done well and carefully give you nothing to fear. You should fear the consequences of things that have never been done before. Do you have a precedent for this tax? I don't think you have one. We must not break our own laws to make our subjects do what we want. A sixth of each one's property? That's a terrible contribution! It's like we're taking the top, the bark, and part of the stump from every tree! And, although we leave each one with a root once it's been hacked, the air will dry its sap. Send a letter to every county where this tax was taken with a free pardon for every man who refused to pay this tax. Do it, I trust you to take care of it.

CARDINAL WOLSEY:

[To the SECRETARY] Let there be letters written to every part of the country announcing the king's kindness and pardon. The unhappy commoners think badly of me. Let it be said that I asked for this retraction and pardon. Then I will tell you what to do next.

Act 1, Scene 3

CHAMBERLAIN:

I'm glad it's there. I want these courtiers who act French to think that an English courtier can be wise even if he's never seen the Louvre.

LOVELL:

The proclamation asks that they give up those scraps of foolish cloth and feathers they got in France along with all their pointless knowledge, or rather ignorance, about them. They must also give up fights and fireworks and insulting better men than they can ever be for not knowing about foreign things. They must completely renounce their faithfulness to tennis and tall stockings, short pants that look like they have blisters on them, and that sort of thing they picked up from traveling, and act like honest men again. Or head back to their old playmates in France. There, as I understand, the proclamation allows them "freely" to indulge in the rest of their foolishness and be laughed at.

Act 2, Scene 1

SECOND GENTLEMAN:

But it turns out that this lie is true now. Because the rumor has reappeared stronger than it ever was, and it's believed that the king will definitely try to get a separation. Either the cardinal or some of his people have, out of malice against the good queen, ruined her by sowing some doubt in the king. What confirms the truth of this is that Cardinal Campeius has recently arrived, and everyone thinks it's about this business.

FIRST GENTLEMAN:

It's the cardinal. And he's doing this just to get revenge against the emperor for not making him archbishop of Toledo as he asked.

Act 2, Scene 4

QUEEN KATHARINE:

My lord, my lord, I am a simple woman, much too weak to fight your cleverness. You're quiet and speak humbly, you talk about your position and your job in public quietly and humbly. But your heart is stuffed with arrogance, anger, and pride. You have by fortune and with the help of powerful people risen quickly from the lower class and now you are in a high enough position that kings are your servants and your words, which are also your servants, do whatever you wish them to do. I must tell you, you care more about your own honor than your important religious position. Again, I say I refuse you as my judge. And here, before all of you, I appeal to the Pope. I'll bring my whole case to him and be judged by him.

Act 3, Scene 1

CARDINAL WOLSEY:

Please, ma'am, if we can go into your private room, we will tell you the whole reason we came.

QUEEN KATHARINE:

Say it here. I haven't done anything yet that has to be whispered about in a corner. I wish all other women could say that as truly as I can! My lords, I don't care if everyone talks about and sees my actions or if those actions are attacked by envious and disapproving people, because I'm so much luckier than most people in knowing my life is virtuous. If you have business to do with me and my marriage, say it boldly. Truth should be spoken openly.

Act 3, Scene 2

KING HENRY VIII:

And read this afterwards. Then go to breakfast with whatever appetite you have left.

(Exit KING HENRY VIII, frowning upon CARDINAL WOLSEY: the Nobles throng after him, smiling and whispering)

CARDINAL WOLSEY:

What does this mean? Why is he suddenly angry? How have I deserved it? He left me frowning as if he wanted to destroy me with his eyes. An angry lion looks like that at a bold hunter that stabbed him. Then he kills him. I must read this paper. I'm afraid it will tell me why he's angry. It does. This paper has ruined me. It's the list of all the huge wealth I have piled up for my plots, to become Pope and pay my friends in Rome. What carelessness! I'm a fool who deserves to be destroyed by this. What damned devil made me put the most important secret I have in the package I sent to the king? Is there no cure to this? No new plot to  make him forget it? I know he'll be angry, but I know a way—if it works—to get out of this. What's this? It says "To the Pope!" I swear, it's the letter I wrote to the Pope about all this business. No, then it's over! I have reached the highest point of my power and will now quickly descend from that glorious point. I will fall like a bright star in the evening and will not be seen again.

Act 4, Scene 1

THIRD GENTLEMAN:

Finally the queen rose and walked modestly to the altar. She kneeled there and, like a saint, turned her eyes to heaven and prayed piously. Then she got up again and bowed to the people. Then the Archbishop of Canterbury put on her all the things that make you a queen, like holy oil, Edward the Confessor's crown, the staff and bird that symbolize peace, and all the other symbols. When this was done, the choir, which was made up of the best singers in the kingdom, sang "Te Deum." She left and walked back to York-place where the feast is with the same dignified walk.

FIRST GENTLEMAN:

Sir, you shouldn't call it York-place anymore. That's its old name. Since the cardinal fell from power, it hasn't been called that. Now it belongs to the king and is called Whitehall.

Act 4, Scene 2

GRIFFITH:

This cardinal, although he came from a humble family, was undoubtedly meant to win great honor from the day he was born. He was a scholar, and an excellent one. He was very wise, well-spoken, and persuasive. He was proud and bitter towards those who hated him, but to those who wanted to be his friends he was as sweet as summer. And although he was never content with what he had, which was a sin, he was as generous in giving gifts as a king. Consider those two colleges he started in Ipswich and Oxford! One of them fell along with him, unwilling to outlive its benefactor. The other one, although not yet finished, is still so famous, so learned, and still getting better, that he will always be praised in Christian countries. His loss of power was a good thing for him, because it was not until then that he understood himself and found the joy in being unimportant. And it gave him greater honor in his old age than any man could give him that he died thinking of God.

QUEEN KATHARINE:

After my death I don't want anyone to talk about my actions when I was alive to praise me except an honest historian like Griffith. With your religious truth and modesty, you have made me honor the man I hated most when he was alive now that he is dead. May he rest in peace! Patience, stay near me and lower my chair. I won't bother you long. Good Griffith, have the musicians play me that sad song I called my funeral music, while I sit thinking about heaven, where I am going.

Act 5, Scene 3

KING HENRY VIII:

All right, my lords, respect him. Take him and treat him well—he deserves it. I will say this much for him: if a prince can owe anything to a subject, I owe him for his love and service to me. Don't make any more fuss, but hug him, all of you. Be friends, my lords, honestly! My Lord of Canterbury, I have a request you can't deny. That is, there's a beautiful young girl who still needs to be baptized. You must be her godfather in the ceremony.

CRANMER:

The greatest king alive would be proud of this honor. How can I deserve it, when I am just a poor, humble, subject of yours?

Act 5, Scene 5

CRANMER:

She will live to be an old queen and make England happy. She will live many days and do a great deed on every one. I wish I knew nothing more! But she must die, she must, the saints must have her. Still a virgin, a pure flower, she will fall to the ground and the whole world will miss her.

KING HENRY VIII:

Oh, lord archbishop, now you've made me a man! It's like I never made anything before I conceived this happy child. This comforting prophecy has pleased me so much that when I am in heaven I will want to see what this child does, and praise God. I thank you all. I am very thankful to you, my good lord mayor, and your good companions. You have done me a lot of honor in being here and I will repay you. Lead the way, lords. You must all see the queen and she must thank you or she will be sick. Today, no one should think he has to go home. Everyone will stay. It's a holiday because of this little one.