If we as a group have one regret about our journey through all of Shakespeare’s plays, it’s probably this: we all wish we had read the two history tetralogies in order. Instead, we read Henry IV, Parts 1 and 2; Henry VIII; King John; Richard III; Henry VI, Parts 1, 2, and 3; and now, as our last history play, we are going back to the beginning. What started this whole saga of murders and depositions, of politics and privilege, of war and peace? Richard II.
For heaven’s sake, let us sit upon the ground
And tell sad stories of the death of kings:
How some have been deposed, some slain in war,
Some haunted by the ghosts they have deposed;
Some poison’d by their wives, some sleeping killed;
All murdered.– Richard II, Act III, Scene 2
I now understand why this play is a favorite of many of my theater friends, and why so many famous actors (and one actress) have taken on the challenging role of Richard, including Kevin Spacey, Fiona Shaw, Ben Whishaw, Eddy Redmayne, and David Tennant. Richard is a fascinating character, and the story is quite an intriguing political thriller. I say “intriguing” because there was a large portion of the play where I was asking myself, “What is really going on?”
Why does Richard seem to so easily give up his title? IsBullingbrook even after the crown? Are his followers? How is all of this even happening?
My confusion came to a climax in Act III, Scene 4, when Bullingbrook charges his men to “show fair duty to his majesty” and bow to King Richard. Bullingbrook reiterates his desire only to reclaim his lands and title. Richard, however, replies with an infinitely more generous offer:
Cousin, I am too young to be thy father,
Though you are old enough to be my heir.
What you will have, I’ll give, and willing too,
For do we must what force will have us do.
I really needed my girls’ help to work through what was happening here. Why in the world is Richard giving up his throne (though acting like he’s being forced to) when all Bullingbrook wants is his family title? For Richard, however, Bullingbrook’s request to return to England and claim his rightful title defies more than his banishment; it defies a royal decree.
If one man, who was banished by the king, can march right back into England, gather followers, execute courtiers, and demand his family title, then what power does the king have? If his rule can be questioned at all, how can he be a king? For Richard, it is all or nothing. Is he really a king if he can be forced to do something against his will?
And if he is not the king, who and what is he? This challenge usurps not only his power, but his very identity. He realizes, “I have no name, no title … And know not now what name to call myself” (Act 4, Scene 1). For Richard, the actions of Bullingbrook and his followers strip him of his entire identity, all he has ever known, all he has ever been, and all he had ever seen himself being. This identity crisis, carried out quite poetically, gives Richard some beautiful clarity just before the end.
It is no wonder he has an identity crisis throughout his deposition. He is first and foremost thoroughly confused by the idea that anyone would try to usurp him. He doesn’t know any different. It’s child-star syndrome. Richard has been king from a very young age, and up to this point he has never had to fight for his crown; rather, he takes for granted that it is his birthright and divine right. We drew many comparisons between Richard II and Henry VI, who also is king from a very young age. Henry VI is also confused by the war that erupts to take his crown. He has not known his father and grandfather and has not had the privilege of learning how to be a king from them or the precariousness of his situation.
At this time it was also thought that the king of England ruled by divine right, and Richard firmly believes this about himself. He fully expects God to smite his enemies, and when no pestilence comes, he is left questioning for the first time his own divine right to rule:
The breath of worldly men cannot depose
The deputy elected by the Lord.
For every man that Bullingbrook hath pressed
To lift shrewd steel against our golden crown,
Heaven for his Richard hath in heavenly pay
A glorious angel. Then, if angels fight,
Weak men must fall, for heaven still guards the right.– Richard II, Act III, Scene 2
Richard’s fall marks a very significant change of mindset, a growing consciousness that kings have to have the support of nobles and the common people in order to rule, and kings are not given power by a divine right. It is the end of an era, but the beginning of a saga.
Ironically, Bullingbrook believes in the divine right of kings. He is a religious man, a trait we will see more of in Henry IV, Parts 1 and 2, and he feels guilty for Richard’s demise for the rest of his life. In fact, Henry IV believes God is punishing him for his behavior towards Richard.
This guilt is not all Bullingbrook will wrestle with during his rule. From the instant he becomes king, he has peers plotting against him and cries, “Have I no friend will rid me of this living fear?” (Act V, Scene 4). He has to fight for his crown from the first instant and feels the heavy burden that comes with power and majesty. As he will later reflect in Henry IV, Part 2, “Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown” (Act III, Scene 1).
And thus the saga begins … From the instant he becomes King, Henry IV will wrestle with guilt and conspiracy. His son, Hal, will watch his father deteriorate under the weight of the crown and rebellion and will resist his princely duty before finally realizing his place and becoming the greatest monarch England has ever known: Henry V. After a tragically early death, Henry VI will become a child king. Too young to truly understand the precarious situation of a king, and unable to know and learn from his father or grandfather’s experience, Henry VI will undo much of his father’s work. A series of dastardly murders will eventually see King Richard III on the throne, who will be defeated by the scarcely mentioned Henry VII, before one of the most famous English monarchs emerges: Henry VIII. Six wives later, the crown would pass to Shakespeare’s very own benefactress, Queen Elizabeth I.
For heaven’s sake, let us sit upon the ground
And tell sad stories of the death of kings…
Leave a comment