The Tragedie of King Richard the Second – “Take honour from me and my life is done."

The Tragedie of King Richard the Second  – “Take honour from me and my life is done."

While 1595 seemed like a tumultuous year for the Ottoman Empire, the Russians, the Swedes and even Henry IV of France (who although he defeated the Spanish, he almost died in the process) in England it was a relatively quiet year. After the Catholic Robert Southwell was hung, drawn and quartered in London in February, nothing much happened except intermittent news arriving about Sir Walter Raleigh’s exploits in South America and Sir Francis Drake’s exploration in Spanish Main (Southern North America and Meso-America).

It is unlikely that Shakespeare thought that he was writing a highly politically charged History play when he put quill to parchment to write Richard II. Elizabeth the First was in good health and a force had been sent off to Ireland in what people in London thought would be quick campaign. He probably just wanted to bring the ‘Henry IV Part 1’ and ‘Henry IV Part 2’ into a trilogy. Little would he know the furor it would cause in 1601 when the Earl of Essex commissioned a performance to stir a riot and a revolt in 1601. It was probably not seen as controversial in June 1595 when it was probably first performed, although a private performance in December 1595 at Canon Row at Sir Edward Hoby’s house may have been more controversial since Queen Elizabeth I’s health was not so good in December of 1595.

Richard II  is a great piece of theatre. It has lyrical rich poetic verse throughout the whole play with hardly any prose. It is cram packed with metaphors, symbolism and allegories yet despite that, it starts in what seems like a confusing way. Of course you have to remember that Elizabethan audiences knew their English history well, so to see history and the lives of nobles acted out with all the grittiness that the stage brings was a voyeuristic fantasy. We are thrown into the middle of court matter at Windsor Castle and Richard II is trying to arbitrate a dispute between Henry Bolingbroke (the Duke of Herford) and Thomas Mowbray (Duke of Norfolk) who Bolingbroke accuses of treachery and embezzlement. Mowbray is remarkably cool and disinterested considering the charges against him. Bolingbroke loses his cool and insults fly across the court until Richard II settles the issue by setting a date for a good old fashioned duel.

A short scene between Bolingbroke’s father John of Gaunt and the elderly Duchess of Gloucester (his sister in law) is touching and underplayed considering the horrific description of her husband’s death with an ax. The Duchess has an ax to grind since she wants justice for the family but John of Gaunt will not enact revenge and insists that “… put we our quarrel to the will of heaven…” John of gaunt also suggests that the king himself may have been involved in the killing. The subtle blanket of political intrigue is laid. The Duchess curses all and sundry and hopes both Bolingbroke and Mowbray will die in the duel.

In a field in Coventry, Mowbray and Bolingbroke prepare for the duel. Proclamations of accusations, innocence and virtue are stated and just when they are about to start the duel, Richard II stops the duel and decrees that he will banish both of them rather than have them fight. Bolingbroke is banished from the shores of England for ten years and Mowbray is banished for life. Mowbray is grief stricken since he sees banishment from England as worse than death. Richard II feels sorry for Bolingbroke’s father John of Gaunt and promptly reduces Bolingbroke’s exile to 6 years instead of 10. Bolingbroke does not seem very grateful for this and exits still feeling hard done to.

Richard II returns to the court but muses at the popularity of Bolingbroke with people as he was banished and his “…courtship of the common people…” Richard is reminded by an advisor that he and the kingdom is almost broke and that a he has to raise money for another campaign against the Irish. This would ring bells with the audience in 1595 since they were probably worried about how Elizabeth was going to raise money for another campaign in Ireland. He decide to lease or rent out public assets but has a complicated method that will rob from the poor in taxes so that he can give to the rich in tax concessions. Obviously, Richard II was ahead of his time since this seems like a wonderfully modern form of taxation. This scene ends with the news of John of Gaunt being on his death bed. Richard II, who has not endeared himself to an audience through meddling in others affairs, changing his mind consistently, advocating leasing the family silver to pay for his wars and court, is overjoyed at this news and decides he will take all the money and property of John of Gaunt upon his death to pay for the new war in Ireland. It is only the end of Act 1 and I think a modern or Elizabethan audience wants to see Richard II dead.

Richard II Act 2 – “… Some unborne sorrow, ripe in fortune’s womb, is coming towards me…”

If ‘Richard II’ is a parable then Act 2 has some striking lessons. With John of Gaunt on death’s door awaiting the arrival of King Richard so that he can impart some words of wisdom, we know that John of Gaunt’s final dying breath are whispers that fall on deaf ears. Richard will listen only to those who flatter him and his opinions. Perhaps this message was a warning to Elizabeth who in her old age was not adverse to surrounding herself with flattering admirers. Gaunt utters a majestic lament for what his country has become. These words which perhaps were a direct warning to Queen Elizabeth not to allow England to be carved up and sold in smaller lease holdings or overtaxed to pay for the war in Ireland, echo across the centuries and across countries to any who mourn their countries fate:

“This blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this England… is now leas'd out…”

As if on cue, undercutting this moment, King Richard enters with a huge entourage which includes his Queen. Age and the breath of death gives John of Gaunt, the courage and the fire to say exactly what he thinks to King Richard. He tells Richard that for a king, he worries about appearances too much, he is too easily flattered by self-serving manipulative nobles, he spends too much money, he is taxing people too much and overall not looking after England. Of course, Richard does not listen to this and arrogantly reminds John of Gaunt of his lack of nobility and then threatens to destroy Gaunt and his whole family. With his dying breath, Gaunt curses King Richard.

"Live in thy shame, but die not shame with thee!

These words hereafter thy tormentors be!"

With John of Gaunt dead, King Richard proceeds to take all of his assets to pay for the campaign in Ireland which he, Richard, will lead. The Duke of York, points out that John of Gaunt was loyal and that although he is in exile, Bolingbroke should by custom and law receive Gaunt’s estates and assets. Richard, once again, does not listen to the advice of those who are loyal and wisened by age, and seems hell bent on putting on armour and setting sail for Ireland the next day.

Three of Richard’s ‘trusted’ and ‘loyal’ lords secretly talk of Bolingbroke rallying forces to invade England, and his intentions to take over lands and eventually the crown. They decide that Richard’s days are numbered and they make a decision to join Bolingbroke in Ravenspurgh when he arrives.

With King Richard off in Ireland, we come back to Windsor Castle and the Queen who feels ominous times are coming.

"Some unborn sorrow ripe in Fortune's womb

Is coming toward me, and my inward soul…”

Baget listens to her woes and talks of how Richard’s actions might even turn the common people against him.

“… the wavering commons… their love

Lies in their purses and whoso empties them

By so much fills their hearts with deadly hate.”

The deluge arrives. Bolingbroke has invaded, Lords galore are defecting to Bolingbroke’s army and even the threat of declaring these lords as traitors seems to not stem the flow from Richard's side. The Duke of York who the running of the kingdom has been left to, feels the impossible has become the Sisyphean when, after sending a servant to get help, money and support from the Duchess of Gloucester, he finds out that she has died. He decides to nevertheless raise an army for Richard and takes the Queen with him to Berkeley Castle in Gloucestershire to at least keep her safe. He may get the Queen to safety but the rest of his task:

"Is numb'ring sands and drinking oceans dry…"

The Duke of York leaves and another group of ‘loyal’ lords is left alone. Bad move. They see the writing on the wall and decide to leave Windsor and, all except Bagot, who says he will join Richard in Ireland, decide to join Bolingbroke.

Soon after, Henry Bolingbroke and Lord Northumberland ride towards Berkeley Castle. Lords Ross and Lord Willoughby join them along with Harry Percy (Northumberland's youngest son). Percy swears his loyalty to Bolingbroke and then the Duke of York arrives.

Although, the Duke of York initially condemns Bolingbroke and his actions, because he cannot support the overthrow of a lawful and God-appointed king, the Duke decides because he has not the force to drive Bolingbroke back, he will now remain neutral in the conflict. But York himself is starting to be swayed by Bolingbroke. The Duke of York’s invitation to Bolingbroke and his men to stay in his castle for the night, shows that Bollingbroke has won over another important ally in his fight to claim England and the thrown.

We shift to the coast of Wales, where Lord Salisbury and a Welsh force desperately await for King Richard to return so that they may fight Bolingbroke’s forces off. But all seems lost and Salisbury laments:

“Ah Richard, with the eyes of heavy mind

I see thy glory like a shooting star

Fall to the base earth from the firmament.”

Bolingbroke has captured Richard's men Bushy and Greene (aptly named considering their lack of military or political intelligence). Bolingbroke seems surprisingly loyal to the king at this point and accuses them of hypocrisy and having led the king astray. He puts them to death.

Meanwhile, as Richard receives the news that the Welsh force which he depended on have dispersed because they thought that he had died, he sinks into the verse of melancholic despair.
" ... You have mistook me all this while,
I live with bread like you, feel want
Taste grief, need friends..."

It is at this point in Act III Sc2 that probably the most famous speech from this play is uttered by Richard. While Aumerle and others search for the last crumbs of hope, Richard sinks into a contemplative melancholy as he thinks about mortality and the purpose of existence:
"... of comfort no man speak:
Let's talk of grave's of worms and epitaphs;
Make dust our paper and with rainy eyes
Write sorrow on the bossom of the earth...
For God's sake, let us sit upon the ground
And tell sad stories of the death of kings..."
Shakespeare here gives more than a glimmer of the greatness which is promised (to) him in speeches like those he writes for Juliet later in 1595 or for Hamlet in 1599 or 1600.

With the Duke of York at his side, Bolingbroke knows the scale of power weighs in his favour and yet his mind and conscience turns to the morality of what he is about to do. He is worried that divine intervention will intercede and prevent him from usurping a God-chosen king. He decides he will surrender to the king if he gives him, Bolingbroke, all his lands and titlesback. When King Richard appears he will not accept the offer and thinks that heaven will suddenly rain down vengeance and the image of England's "... pastures' grass stained with faithful English blood..." becomes a omen of the blood still to be spilled in the War of the Roses. Richard is captured and taken to London.

Meanwhile, the cloud of melancholy has shifted to the Queen and no suggestion of games, singing, dancing, storytelling or any other folly seems to help. The Queen and her ladies hide when a Gardener and a Servant enter. The Gardener and the Servant speak not in prose but in the well tilled soil of rich verse laden in the fertile mulch of gardening metaphors. When it is revealed that the king is overthrown, the Queen reveals herself, sheds tears and curses the Gardener as she leaves for London.
"Pray God the plants thou graff'st may never grow..."
The Gardener decides to plant in the place the Queen's tears fell, the herb of sorrow, rue.

Act 4

'Richard II' takes a little getting used to. 'Richard III' is a melodrama garnished with comic irony served by the monologues and direct addresses of its hero/villain. But 'Richard II' has no comic irony, no humorous interludes and no pouncing prose. It takes it meandering course through ponderous poetic verse as it weaves the subtle magic of its lyric tragedy on an audience examining the nature of power, the throne, politics, patriotism, action and inaction. Shakespeare is dealing with a person who is a political failure, contemplative rather than able to react, introspective rather than explicit. 'Rrichard II' is such an important play for our times because Richard II like many politicians and executives of our times expects sees power as his inheritance and right and does not expect it to be torn from his grasp. When glory of his power is gone, Richard becomes as attached to his grief.
"You may my glories and my state depose,
But not my griefs; still am I king of those."

Act IV is done in one long uninterrupted scene which helps to give a sense of almost Ancient Greek sense of dramatic and tragic inevitability to the act. It is set back in London and starts with Bolingbroke and his men interrogating Bagot and Aumerie to find out their parts in the death of Thomas, the Dule of Gloucester. After many accusations, denials and throwing down of gloves (Shakespeare's father would have made a fortune if he had provided all the gloves for this scene), it seems obvious that Richard is responsible for the death of Gloucester.

When the Duke of York brings news that Richard II will give up his crown, the Bishop of Carlisle prophetically warns that the taken of a crown from God's chosen king will bring a future where,
"The blood of English shall manure the ground."

Richard is then brought on stage. He seems willing to give up the crown but then recants. He sees that giving up his crown does not take away his worries.
"Your cares set up do not pluck my cares down."
Richard will not initially sign a statement resigning the crown and confessing his crimes. He asks for a looking glass and eventually smashes it,
"... my sorrow hath destroyed my face."
To this Bolingbroke promptly replies,
"The shadow of your sorrow hath destry'd
The shadow of your face."
Richard likes this sentiment and concedes and asks to be free to roam. Bolingbroke refuses and allows Richard to mentally roam the corridors of his own mind while in a cell in the tower  of London.

While Bolingbroke goes off to organise his own coronation, the Abbot of Westminster, the Bishop of Carlisle and Aumerie conspire other possibilities.

Richard II Act 5 – “ I have long been studying how I may compare this prison where I live unto the world…”

In London, Queen Isabel and her ladies, see Richard on his way to the tower. The Queen is upset to see Richard so changed and asks:

“What is my Richard both in shape and mind

Transformed and weakened?”

Richard is truly transformed and sees himself now as a tragic hero in a story that is already told:

“In winter’s tedious nights sit by the fire…

and let them tell thee tales

Of woeful ages long ago betid;

And ere thou bid goodnight, to quit their griefs,

Tell thou the lamentable tale of me…”

Knowing his fate is sealed, he asks the Queen to think he is already dead. Northumberland arrives and announces a change of plans and that Richard is now to go to the north of England to Pomfret Castle for the moment. His death is inferred. Now even Richard prophesizes that the wheel of fortune will also turn on Bolingbroke:

"The time shall not be many hours of age

More than it is, ere foul sin gathering head

Shall break into corruption…

The love of wicked men converts to fear…"

The scene ends with the final farewell between the Queen and Richard. It is done in rhyming couplets to accentuate their love and fate. This may be seen to undercut the gravity of the moment of the scene through its overt stylisation, but this device of shared lines combined with rhyming couplets is one that Shakespeare will perfect in his next play ‘Romeo and Juliet’. At this moment in ‘Richard II’, it is dramatically effective:

“ Queen: Then whither he goes, thither let me go.

Richard: So two, together weeping, make one woe.”

At Langley (not the headquarters of the CIA in Virginia, USA but the quieter one in England), the residence of the Duke of York and his wife, York and his wife talk of the triumphant coronation of Bolingbroke in London and compare it to the way that people shouted and threw rubbish at Richard as he was led through London for the last time. A modern audience can’t but draw ironic parallels to both Christ and Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar on both counts. York is disgusted by the treatment dished out to Richard but he reinforces his allegiance to Bolingbroke (now the new King Henry IV) as the new appointed monarch. York’s son Aumerle enters and while general discussions of the celebrations of the new king ensue, York notices that his son is concealing a letter. York snatches the letter and is horrified to find that his own son and several other noblemen and clergy have conspired a plot to assassinate the new King Henry IV.

York is outraged and his wife the Duchess of York tries to plead on their only son’s behalf. But for York, loyalty to the crown and country comes before loyalty to one’s family. York sets off for London to reveal the plot and condemn his own son. As always, women are shown to be the true survivors in Shakespeare’s world. The Duchess of York tells her son Aumerle to ride faster than his father to London and seek to beg forgiveness from King Henry IV before the Duke of York arrives and the plot is revealed. She infers that the Duke of York may not be a fast rider because she herself “…though I be old…” will “… not be long behind… I doubt not but to ride as fast as York… “ She says that she will also plead Aumerle’s case to the king.

Meanwhile, at Windsor, Bolingbroke, the new King Henry IV, is complaining about the boozing and whoring habits of his son Harry Percy (Prince Hal and later to become Henry V, the greatest of Shakespeare’s heroes and perhaps England’s too) and he sees no hope or future in his son. Having overtaken his father on the road, Aumerle arrives, asks for a private conference with the king and on bended knee asks the king for forgiveness but will not name his crime until he is forgiven by the king. York arrives outside and cries out that Aumerle is a traitor. York enters the room. The king draws his sword thinking Aumerle may be there to kill him. York has decided that king and country are more important than loyalty to family and he accuses his son of treachery. The Duchess arrives outside the room. She enters pleading for her son’s life. York argues his son should be killed as a traitor. We start to see York’s loyalty to crown over family as obsessive and absurd. The Duchess pleads for clemency. The “… happy vantage of a kneeling knee” proves too strong and the king pardons Aumerle but decides that all the other conspirators need to be arrested and executed without trial for their part in the conspiracy. The irony of the parallels of these events and those alluded to earlier in the play are clearly lost on Bolingbroke as he moves on in the next scene to become more and more like Richard II who he has usurped. He even asks his now sycophantic nobles:

“Have I no friend will rid me of this living fear?"

His question does not fall only on deaf ears for Exton leaves Windsor Castle to kill the Bolingbroke’s “living fear”, Richard, who lies imprisoned in Pomfret Castle. Exton thinks that Bolingbroke has indirectly asked him to do this.

It is no surprise that we find Richard immersed in self-sophistry and the solace of soliloquy.

“ I have long been studying how I may compare

This prison where I live unto the world…”

Food is brought in but when the keeper will not taste it first, Richard fears it is poison and kills the keeper. Exton finally enters. Richard kills a number of other guards and as Exton kills Richard, Richard curses Exton and reminds Exton that he, “Hath with king’s blood stain’d the king’s own land…” Richard dies. Exton sees his deed as “chronicled in hell” and decides he will take King Richard’s body to Windsor Castle where it belongs.

Back at Windsor Castle, all is not going well for the new king. Bolingbroke (Henry IV) hears of rebels in the northwest and the death of a host of traitors including Lord Salisbury and the Abbot of Westminster. Bolingbroke, against advice, shows mercy on the Bishop of Carlisle. Exton returns with Richard’s coffin:

“Great king, within this coffin I present

Thy buried fear…”

Bolingbroke realizes the gravity of the situation that his own words may have caused the death of a king. He is pleased that Richard is dead but devastated “…That blood should sprinkle to make me grow…” Exton is exiled to “wander thorough shades of night…” while Bolingbroke will now venture to Jerusalem to see if in the Holy Land, he can “ … wash this blood off my guilty hand…”

Shakespeare returns next in ‘Romeo and Juliet’…