William Shakespeare – Henry VI: Part Two (1591)
Play – read on the wonderful Shakespeare iPhone app during October 2011
- 4 nods out of 5 -
Everything comes in ‘a trilogy’ these days: Star Wars, Lord of the Rings, X-Men and even (sigh) Transformers. It seems that Hollywood isn’t content to bore us with just one instalment; the “fun” must be spread over a series of years to keep us entertained (and also keep toy manufacturers in business during the Christmas season).
But here is a trilogy before George Lucas, before Frodo set out on his journey across Middle Earth, before film was invented and before crappy merchandise was utilised to its awful full potential; a trilogy written by the man, the genius, the writer himself: William Shakespeare. Regular readers of the blog may have glanced an eye across the review of the first part of this series, on which Henry comes to the throne and squanders his father’s inheritance of the French lands. Tensions are bubbling beneath, between the rival houses of Lancaster and York. Part Two is where the shedding of blood begins.
The second part of a trilogy can sometimes bring greater rewards than the original (notably Godfather Part II), and Shakespeare himself pulls off a similar trick here. After laying the ground work of potential friction, he gets to town in this play in destroying and laying havoc to the hefty character list (the largest in any Shakespeare play). The house of York are on the rise, and intrigue against Henry’s closest advisors; the first to feel the force of York is Henry’s trusted uncle, Gloucester. Facing trumped up charges, the moral compass of Part One is isolated and victimised, before being murdered to remove him from the picture all completely.
‘Ah, thus King Henry throws away his crutch
Before his legs be firm to bear his body.
Thus the shepherd is beaten from thy side,
And wolves are gnarling who shall gnaw thee first.’
Rivalries continue from Part One – such as that between York and Somerset – before being settled in York’s favour; all while Shakespeare demonstrates the flair and ability that illuminates his later masterworks. In ridding the king of his companions, York goes further to stirring up rebellion in the person of Jack Cade, who he hopes will set the match alight to provide his triumph over Lancaster. The comedy element of the play comes in the form of the rise of the rebellion of Jack Cade, and in his stirring cries to his rabble:
CADE:
My father was a Mortimer –
DICK (aside):
He was an honest man, and a good bricklayer.
CADE:
My mother a Plantagenet –
DICK (aside):
I knew her well, she was a midwife.
CADE:
My wife descended of the Lacies –
DICK (aside):
She was indeed a pedlar’s daughter, and sold many laces.
CADE:
Therefore I am of an honourable house.
DICK (aside):
Ay, by my faith, the field is honourable, and there was he born, under a hedge; for his father had never a house but the cage.
CADE:
Valiant I am.
DICK (aside):
‘A must needs, for beggary is valiant.
Cade leads a bloody rampage in London, yelling out to his rebels: ‘Up Fish Street! Down Saint Magnus’ Corner! Kill and knock down! Throw them into the Thames!’ All before being put to flight and ignominious death after a rousing speech delivering by Henry’s confidant, Clifford; reminiscent of the fate suffered by Brutus after the murder of Julius Caesar.
All of the mayhem, the killings and murders finds it climax when the royal families take sides at the battle of St Albans. York returns from Ireland to claim what he believes his rightful inheritance, and all “kicks off” in true, bloody Shakespearian style.
York and Clifford - the saviour of the rebellion – come to fisticuffs in a fight. York tells him: ‘I am resolved for death or dignity.’ Clifford responds: ‘The first I warrant thee, if dreams prove true.’ But yet York retorts: ‘You were best to go to bed and dream again…’ The fight ends in Clifford’s death; whilst elsewhere on the field of battle York’s son – the future Richard III – kills York’s bête noir, the Duke of Somerset under the sign of the Castle Inn.
Fearing all is lost, Henry flees with his remaining troops back to London. The victorious York calls on his support and asks the Duke of Warwick: ‘What says Lord Warwick? Shall we after them?’ Warwick concludes on a cliff-hanger:
‘After them! Nay, before them, if we can.
Now, by my faith, lords ‘twas a glorious day.
Saint Albons battle won by famous York
Shall be eterniz’d in all age to come.
Sound drum and trumpets, and to London all,
And more such days as these to us befall!’
Such an ending beautifully sets up the scene for the third and final part of Shakespeare’s Henry VI. The sides have formed, the Wars of the Roses has begun. And what is to become of King Henry and the Duke of York? Stay tuned to future editions of the Four Eyed Book Worm to find out.
