Renaissance Literature Analysis - Book Report/Review Example

English society in the Renaissance period had very clear-cut ideas about the role of the monarchy. Seen as God's representative on earth and appointed by divine right (Grillet 34), the monarch was not only highly revered by the populace, but was faced with the responsibility of acting in God's stead and of maintaining the requisite appearance (if not the reality) of state and ceremony, pomp and pageantry, grace and glory. Queen Elizabeth, the reigning monarch at the time of the writing of King Henry V (Shakespeare 1589), was a 'master' (to employ her own self-masculinisation) of these arts, perhaps more so because she, a woman, held a role that required masculine attributes. According to Machiavelli, the ideal monarch should be a soldier (The Prince 49), merciful yet adequately cruel (55), cautious and prudent in decision-making, and full of humanity (56). King Henry V exceeds the expectations of the ideal Renaissance male, epitomizes the Machiavellian prince, and is a mirror of the character of God who appointed him, and the Messianic king, whom he represents. This is revealed in his speeches to his subjects and adversaries, to himself (soliloquies) and his future wife, Katherine. In the play, as in the historical precedent, he is faced with the dually awesome and glorious decision of making war with France in order to reclaim his right as king thereof and extend his rule, but also, more frivolously, in response to a foolish slight on the part of the French Dauphin, who, thinking Henry to still be the author of "youthful pranks", sends him a set of tennis balls (I.ii). The portrait of this king that unfolds throughout the play is that of a young monarch who is defining his role, status, power and leadership, and who "must prove his fitness to rule through appropriate choices and actions" (Hall 83). In the first act we see Henry contemplating the decision to go to war with France. Though the king, he defers graciously to age and wise counsel. In fact, most of his early scenes show him requiring advice of his counsellors ("May I with right and conscience make this claim", 1.2.98), referring to them with utmost deference and courtesy ("My gracious Lord of Canterbury", 1.2.1; "good uncle", line 3; "my learned lord", line 10), and contemplating the justice of their counsel. Only about twenty-five years old, he shows his wisdom in consulting the more aged and experience members of his council, who are able, in their several duties to explain matters of a technical ("the law Salique"), or historical nature ("Edward, the Black Prince /Who on the French ground play'd a tragedy", 1.2.107-8). Despite this, he asserts his superiority as king in his turn of phrases, at once deferring to Canterbury's wisdom and charging him to consider carefully before giving improper advice to the king: "Therefore take heed how you impawn our person/ Under this conjuration, speak, my lord/ For we will hear, note and believe in heart" (1.2.23-32). Though applying Machiavellian caution, once advised, he is "well resolved" (227) to act. His decisions, once taken, are immediately respected and executed, and show judiciousness and discernment on his part. While at war, Henry is simultaneously the "God of the battles" (echoing the biblical "Lord of hosts"1), and the epitome of Renaissance masculinity and Machiavellian prince-hood (55). His words to his soldiers reflect his stellar gift as king and commander-in-chief of the English army in stirring battle speeches, rallying the masses and bolstering the oft-flagging spirits of his soldiers. Henry is blessed with the gift of the gab, and despite his self-deprecatory comments to the contrary (V.II.129), he is able to turn the tide of motivation by appealing to his soldiers' imaginations and manliness with phallic images such as "Stiffen the sinews, summon the blood" (III.i.7), and "bend up every spirit/ To his full height" (lines 16-7). Before Agincourt he acknowledges that the battle isn't going his way, but counters with "greater therefore should our courage be" (IV.i.2), and when Westmoreland wishes for ten thousand more men from England, Henry delivers an stirring speech filled with promises of manly glory and the honour and respect that the valiant will inspire in the future (IV, iii. 49-50). His ability to influence his soldiers show the power of the status as king, as Bates explains, the duty of the soldier is to obey the king, regardless of his opinions or mood (IV.i.79). For King Henry, the role of God's anointed king requires of him to be full of concern for those under his care (2.2.26), echoing Daniel's vision of the kingdom of God (Daniel 4: 11-13). His is often seen worrying about his sickly soldiers (III.iii.55-6); moved to tears at the deaths of Suffolk and York (IV.vi.33-5); and anxious about Katherine's feelings and love in the match (V.ii.106) which is unusual in state marriages. Instead of abusing his power in traditional ways (senseless war, plunder, ruthlessness, chauvinist disregard for the woman's feelings - IV.i.151-6), he takes a more humanistic approach to his subjects, a key Machiavellian trait. We see this in his battle rally to the soldiers, who he promises to call brothers if they accompany him with valour on his conquest: "For he to-day who sheds his blood with me/Shall be my brother" (IV.iii.63-4). Likewise, he doesn't treat Katherine as one who is submitting herself and her will and her kingdom to him, but as a co-ruler: "England is thine, Ireland is thine/ France is thine, and Harry Plantagenet is thine" (V.ii. 185-6). His wooing of Katherine is an interesting mixture of humility and pride; on the one hand humility in "the poor and untempering effect of [his] visage" (170) and his lack of "cunning in protestation" (129-30), and on the other hand, pride in his status as king, when he says, for example, that "nice customs curtsy to great kings" (106-7). In fact, like elsewhere where we expect him to show pride, Henry shows the opposite, unjustly regarding himself lower than he is - after all, the length and flattering nature of his speech to Katherine shows quite a mastery of "cunning protestation" and he does revel in their effect on her: "my blood begins to flatter me that thou dost [love me]" (168-9). Henry elsewhere displays humility and humanity, for example, in his duplicitous disguise at Agincourt to sound out the fears and true feelings of his men (Act IV). Here Henry portrays the king as a mere mortal: "I think the king is but a man, as I am in his nakedness he appears but a man" (IV.i.95-99), whereas throughout the play he tries to recede from glory, putting this instead on God (but only in the eyes of his subjects). This nevertheless contributes to our view of him as a great leader, as he is not afraid to lower himself (in the image of the "suffering saviour" who empties Himself to offer Himself a sacrifice for sin2), to gain insight into the nature of his subjects. The scenes with Williams, in particular, show him equally able to assume the role of an ordinary soldier, Harry le Roy (further evidenced in his use of prose to the soldiers) as opposed to his usual status as king (seen in his use of blank verse in his soliloquy and to Erphingham just lines later). Even in this disguise, he retains his dignity, as we later when Williams unwittingly insults him: "Your reproof is something too round: I should be angry with you, if the time were convenient" (190-2), and when he allows Fluellen to unknowingly take up his challenge, to prevent Williams from committing the death-inducing deed of striking the king (IV.vii.124). Interestingly, it is only under the disguise of an ordinary soldier that he soliloquizes. This might be a signifier of his humility and his identification with the common man (the Elizabethan audience was introduced to Henry as the rebellious Prince Hal of Henry IV, parts and II, who led a vagrant lifestyle with Falstaff and company). We could read in Henry's behaviour a king who wants at all cost to be rid of the too-heavy mantle of "ceremony", and to have done with the responsibility for the nation "That play'st so subtly with a king's repose" (IV.ii. 244). He envies the ordinary man who is ignorant of "What watch the king keeps to maintain the peace" (line 249), and agonizes over the fact that he must king bear the lives, souls, debts, wives, children and sins of his subjects (IV.ii.215-218), whom his every action and decision affect. He also reveals his insecurities and weakness, and that his "ceremony" and "cheerful" rallies are just theatre ("no man should posses him with any appearance of fear, lest he, by showing it, should dishearten his army", 104-5). There are marked difference between these scenes where Henry is self-deprecatory, and those in which he deals with the traitors or makes battle speeches against France. In Act II, sc ii, for example, while he begins with gracious and polite formulas to the traitorous triumvirate, once he has unmasked them his manner quickly changes to a firm and righteously cruel: "What shall I say to thee Thou cruel/ Ingrateful, savage and inhuman creature!" (2.2.95-6). In fact, he uses royal graciousness to camouflage a wily and judicious nature. Machiavelli sees this "cruelty" as necessary, as the monarch mustn't hesitate to sacrifice a few "disorderly" souls for the greater good (55), as Henry himself says that the treason of Scroop, Cambridge and Grey would not only affect his "royal person", but "would have sold your king to slaughter/ And his whole kingdom into desolation" (I.ii.69-73) In the same way, his words to the French, whether direct or via the embassy of Exeter (Act III, scene iii), are full of pride, pomp and braggadocio. He doesn't hesitate to show of his power and might, and the pride in his lineage and divine right. In response to the Dauphin's reminder of his "wilder days" (I.ii.263), he says: "But tell the Dauphin I will keep my state/ Be like a king and show my sail of greatness" (1.2.261-2). In his challenge to the French at Harfleur (Act IV, scene iii), and to Monjoy (scene vi), he boasts in the power of his army and challenges them with death and destruction, and no sooner does he discern their rallying army, than he orders the prisoners executed summarily (scene vi). On the other hand, he shows great mercy when he commands his soldiers to take nothing from the villages nor to curse the French (III.vi.100-4). In addition, when the war is over and he must now bargain with France for Katherine's hand (and land), he is quite gracious to the French, even though there is considerable amount of threat in his tone to suggest his perceived superiority as the conquering king: "If, Duke of Burgundy, you would the peace, / [] you must buy that peace/ With full accord to all our just demands" (5.2.68-72). In essence, Shakespeare takes an unusual road in his portrayal of King Harry as "a great [warrior] king, a 'pattern of prince-hood' and a 'mirror of magnificence'"(Hall 18). This would of course appeal to Queen Elizabeth, but also creates a mould that not many kings, nor queens, have dared to or been able to follow. "Holinshed [and other] chroniclers view Henry as Indeed, it is no small wonder that Harry's son, Henry VI, as the Chorus tells us (V.0), lost the French kingdom and tore England asunder, as, at least in the Shakespearean chronicles of England, King Kenry V was truly a 'pattern of prince-hood'. Works Cited Cahn, Victor L. Shakespeare the Playwright: A Companion to the Complete Tragedies, Histories, Comedies, and Romances. Westport, CT: Praeger, 1996. Grellet. Francoise. "Renaissance Literature I". Literature in English: Anthologie des Litteratures du Monde Anglophone. Paris: Hachette, 2002. 12 - 38. Hall, Joan Lord. Henry V: A Guide to the Play. Westport, CT: Greenwood Press, 1997. Machiavelli, Niccolo. The Prince. Trans. Peter Bondanella and Mark Musa. Ed. Peter Bondanella. Oxford: Oxford University, 1998. Shakespeare, William. "The Second Part of Henry IV". The Works of William Shakespeare Gathered into One Volume. New York: Oxford University Press, 1938. 449 - 484. Shakespeare, William. "Henry V". The Works of William Shakespeare Gathered into One Volume. New York: Oxford University Press, 1938. 485 - 519. The Bible, New International Version. Michigan: Zondervan, 1987. Read More