Henry VI, Part 2 (1591)

[Marlin]

[Tim]

Henry VI spoke french fluently and read latin. However his family had a history of mental illness on his mother's side.
His grandfather was Charles VI of France who lost his mother at the age of 9 and his father at the age of 11. His uncles ran France and squandered money and demanded higher taxes. Charles took over and married well. As he grew older he had episodes where he didn't know who he was. Another time he wouldn't wash or look after himself, he stank. Later he thought he was made of glass and would break. He was know as Charles the Mad.

[Marlin]

Interesting, Tim. Thanks. I wonder if the average Elizabethan playgoer was aware of this going in to hear a performance of Henry VI. Actually, I thought it was Henry who had the moniker of "mad king".

[Marlin]

Well, at any rate, I'm not sure where to start with this fully loaded second installment of Shakespeare's history. I believe the play has more characters than any of the plays in the canon; none of whom seem merely incidental to plot, incredibly. The one who looms largest over this 20-year encapsulation to 5 acts (I wonder how many intermissions the first performances at the old Globe provided) is (to my mind, anyway) the Duke of York. The plot development around and instigated by him is probably the most pivotal. I'm not sure if it's historically accurate that he instigated John Cade to raise a rebellion and march on London for his own ultimate purposes (do you know, Tim?), but it certainly makes an intriguing narrative. The rhetorical language is noticeably more developed than the first part of the trilogy (despite it being the first written) as the following passage by York illustrates. His hard-won holdings in France are bartered for the marriage of a French princess which he reasons thus:

Pirates may make cheap pennyworths of their
pillage,
And purchase friends, and give to courtesans,
Still reveling like lords till all be gone;
Whileas the silly owner of the goods
Weeps over them, and wrings his hapless hands,
And shakes his head, and trembling stands aloof,
While all is shared and all is borne away,
Ready to starve, and dare not touch his own.
So York must sit and fret and bite his tongue
While his own lands are bargained for and sold.
Methinks the realms of England, France, and
Ireland
Bear that proportion to my flesh and blood
As did the fatal brand Althaea burnt
Unto the Prince’s heart of Calydon.
Anjou and Maine both given unto the French!
II. i, 231-247

I can't recall anywhere in the first part of HVI where York makes such allusions about his own plight to the audience. And he's decidedly not the poet of the cast (that seems reserved for Henry, and at intervals, Margaret) but his argument is effectively, if not elaborately, presented here. Most of the characters step up their rhetorical game in this second part, unsurprisingly, as the stakes for a position in the future England are raised.

[Tim]

Half of England seems to be on stage. So many lords each with an eye on the crown and each other.
There's no reliable evidence that the Duke of York instigated the John Cade rebellion.

Act 1 scene 4 seems more like Macbeth, but with a spirit rather than witches.

Bolingbroke. Patience, good lady; wizards know their times:
Deep night, dark night, the silent of the night,
The time of night when Troy was set on fire;
The time when screech-owls cry and ban-dogs howl,
...
Bolingbroke. 'What fates await the Duke of Suffolk?'
Spirit. By water shall he die, and take his end.
Bolingbroke. 'What shall befall the Duke of Somerset?'
Spirit. Let him shun castles;
Safer shall he be upon the sandy plains
Than where castles mounted stand.
Have done, for more I hardly can endure.

[Marlin]

Quite, Tim. But even before scene 4 we get a foreshadowing of the "fiend-like queen", Lady Macbeth, in the person of the Duchess of Gloucester with this opening speech in scene 2:

DUCHESS
Why droops my lord like over-ripened corn
Hanging the head at Ceres’ plenteous load?
Why doth the great Duke Humphrey knit his brows,
As frowning at the favors of the world?
Why are thine eyes fixed to the sullen earth,
Gazing on that which seems to dim thy sight?
What seest thou there? King Henry’s diadem,
Enchased with all the honors of the world?
If so, gaze on and grovel on thy face
Until thy head be circled with the same.
Put forth thy hand; reach at the glorious gold.
What, is ’t too short? I’ll lengthen it with mine;
And, having both together heaved it up,
We’ll both together lift our heads to heaven
And never more abase our sight so low
As to vouchsafe one glance unto the ground.
I. ii, 1-16

Compare it to this appeal in "The Scottish Play":

LADY MACBETH
Was the hope drunk
Wherein you dressed yourself? Hath it slept since?
And wakes it now, to look so green and pale
At what it did so freely? From this time
Such I account thy love. Art thou afeard
To be the same in thine own act and valor
As thou art in desire? Wouldst thou have that
Which thou esteem’st the ornament of life
And live a coward in thine own esteem,
Letting “I dare not” wait upon “I would,”
Like the poor cat i’ th’ adage?
Macbeth I. vii, 39-49

And though I'm skipping far ahead in the play (we need not stick strictly to timelines) Lady Macbeth's appeal is also reminiscent of Margaret's admonishment of Henry in their flight from the Yorkist forces:

KING HENRY
Can we outrun the heavens? Good Margaret, stay!
QUEEN MARGARET
What are you made of? You’ll nor fight nor fly.
Now is it manhood, wisdom, and defense
To give the enemy way, and to secure us
By what we can, which can no more but fly.
Alarum afar off.
If you be ta’en, we then should see the bottom
Of all our fortunes; but if we haply scape,
As well we may—if not through your neglect—
We shall to London get, where you are loved
And where this breach now in our fortunes made
May readily be stopped.
V. ii, 74-84

And that, particularly with the reference to manhood, from Lady Macbeth:

What beast was ’t,
then,
That made you break this enterprise to me?
When you durst do it, then you were a man;
And to be more than what you were, you would
Be so much more the man. Nor time nor place
Did then adhere, and yet you would make both.
They have made themselves, and that their fitness
now
Does unmake you.
Macbeth I. vii, 53-62

[Marlin]

It's also interesting to note how Shakespeare has characters address their "counterparts" as Sweet when they're being the most vicious, ambitious or nasty, as if the word itself would somehow quell their obvious, overridingly dark character traits. The use itself is a kind of convention but Shakespeare employs it with extreme irony. Gloucester addresses his wife as such when she suggests plotting against the king. The king address Eleanor with it after she berates the queen for slapping her. Warwick refers to York as sweet after learning of his plan to overthrow Henry and claim the crown. It's a very minor touch which, nonetheless, provides a wonderful effect for the player speaking it.

[Gabriel]

'Half of England on stage' is apt. At the same time, it's nearly all one family. The sense of the country unraveling as the relationships unravel is conveyed in a masterly way as each noble is plotted against by a group of the others immediately after they have left the previous grouping.
Incidentally, I don't buy the theory that this was written before part one. I believe that's based on just a single marginal mark on the manuscript saying 'new', which could mean anything. Part two seems way ahead of part one in terms of complexity of plot, characters and diction, including as you say, anticipating Macbeth and some of the other greats. But what happens to Talbot? Great hero of part one, then his memory / exploits never mentioned again in part two or three. Whichever one was written first would have been a shot in the dark - the author/s wouldn't have known they were going to do another two until the first one was a roaring success. The beginning of part two, with Sussex's handing over of Margaret to be Henry's queen makes most sense as the continuation of the cliffhanger at the end of part one. I find it hard to imagine part two being written then a motivation to write a prequel, especially one featuring a military hero who is later forgotten, unlike the back-references to the greatness of Henry V. btw I've just been looking at a BBC TV programme called 'The hundred years war', but on PBS America, which explains the actual historical background very well. Shakespeare presents the fight with France as mostly a matter of chivalry and inheritance but France was also much richer agriculturally, so when Gloucester and others are dismayed at Henry giving away Anjou and Maine, that is indeed a huge loss of wealth. But for the Elizabethan audience, the idea of England possessing large chunks of France was presumably a distant fantasy, perhaps not even a desirable one any more.

[Marlin]

Gabriel wrote: "'Incidentally, I don't buy the theory that this was written before part one. I believe that's based on just a single marginal mark on the manuscript saying 'new', which could mean anything. Part two seems way ahead of part one in terms of complexity of plot, characters and diction, including as you say, anticipating Macbeth and some of the other greats. But what happens to Talbot?"
Absolutely. And what about Falstaff? Course, he undoubtedly met an inglorious end but, like Talbot, he isn't mentioned again, either.

Thanks for the PBS America tip. Should provide an interesting perspective to the period.

[Gabriel]

Interesting about Falstaff. I think in this first bunch of history plays Falstaff is just a minor character brought in to make a point about cowardice. It was probably only later, when writing the 'earlier' plays, that Shakespeare had the idea of developing him as a major character - or perhaps he simply grew in the course of writing, as he does seem to get almost too big for the plot in Henry IV. If you then put the plays back in historical sequence, Falstaff dies offstage at the start of Henry V, so he shouldn't actually be popping up in Henry VI at all!

[Marlin]

Gabriel wrote: "Falstaff dies offstage at the start of Henry V, so he shouldn't actually be popping up in Henry VI at all!"
Ha. Quite.

And though, as you say, the language and construction of this second part is more developed than Part 1 I do miss the light humor of the early Purcell/Dauphin scenes. On the other hand, the battle scenes in Part 2 feel far more invested with intent and less like Part 1's impression of bedlam and/or general buffoonery. No Benny Hill here.

But humor isn't completely gone; the first act of the second act has Gloucester publicly exposing the St. Alban's Shrine miracle man, Simpcox, as a fraud. He does come across as a bit of a buffoon in the end, but I wonder what Shakespeare was up to with this characterization of the influence of sacred French site, other than general ridicule. It seems a minor event in the midst of the power struggle in Henry's court. Perhaps it was written to illustrate Gloucester's ability to see through deception as he would with the Winchester/Somerset faction's accusations of his Protectorate neglect and corruption.

[Tim]

Line and word count for main characters
DUKE OF YORK, Richard Plantagenet 379 2991
Margaret, QUEEN of England, 316 2517
KING HENRY THE SIXTH 314 2480
DUKE OF GLOUCESTER 303 2346
DUKE OF SUFFOLK, William de la Pole 298 2301
JACK CADE 238 2154
EARL OF WARWICK 131 1052
DUCHESS OF GLOUCESTER Eleanor Cobham 119 961
CARDINAL BEAUFORT, Bishop of Winchester 103 824

Highest Line and word count for Queens
CLEOPATRA Antony and Cleopatra 678 4700
INNOGEN Cymbeline 594 4402
Margaret, QUEEN Henry VI Part 3 316 2517
Margaret, QUEEN Henry VI Part 3 279 2244

https://www.shakespeareswords.com/Pub...

[Marlin]

Interesting stuff, Tim. Thanks.

If I may go on a bit about the way comedy is handled in Part 2 I must say it's one of the more impressive effects of the installment; particularly in the way that it precedes a complete shift of tone in the play. I've already mentioned the scene where Glouster debunks the miracle at St. Albans character and soon after nobles in an obvious faction in Henry's court begin hurling accusations of disloyalty at Glouster . The tone immediately switches from one of mirth to deadly conspiracy. The same tonal switch happens in the combat scene between Horner and Peter, peasant servants who must settle accusations of treasonous insults to the king. Horner, made (more) drunk by his neighbors just before the contest is hardly in any condition to competently subdue his opponent and the atmosphere is one of frivolity going into the match. It proceeds with Horner baiting Peter and continuing the mirth but Peter suddenly fells Horner with a blow, seemingly ending the contest; but Peter keeps flailing at his downed opponent until Horner is killed. The crowd is immediately hushed, and the atmosphere is suddenly solemnly grave. Peter's friends congratulate him and King Henry commands him to exit the stage for a reward; but already we get the feeling that mere hearsay and tomfoolery about disloyalty to the king, particularly by a servant of York, is a foreshadowing of deadlier times for the kingdom. Both turns of tone in the comic reveling are nicely drawn. They're wonderfully pulled off by the '83 BBC tv film and I'm anxious to see if Part 2 of The Holy Crown series has kept any of this nuance.

Course, by the time we get to the John Cade scenes with armed peasants having fun with mutilated corpses the humor has become downright macabre.

[Marlin]

The pact of the assassins (Glouster, Margaret, Suffolk and Beaufort) which occurs at the beginning of Act III, brief as it is, does several things at once, the most important of which is to reveal that moral scruples and "policy" are virtually negligible to these characters, particularly York, who comes up with the slickest reasoning for killing Gloucester, which is immediately seized upon by the others:

YORK
Were ’t not all one an empty eagle were set
To guard the chicken from a hungry kite
As place Duke Humphrey for the King’s Protector?
QUEEN MARGARET
So the poor chicken should be sure of death.
SUFFOLK
Madam, ’tis true; and were ’t not madness then
To make the fox surveyor of the fold—
Who, being accused a crafty murderer,
His guilt should be but idly posted over
Because his purpose is not executed?
No, let him die in that he is a fox,
By nature proved an enemy to the flock,
Before his chaps be stained with crimson blood,
As Humphrey, proved by reasons, to my liege.
And do not stand on quillets how to slay him—
Be it by gins, by snares, by subtlety,
Sleeping or waking. ’Tis no matter how,
So he be dead; for that is good deceit
Which mates him first that first intends deceit.
III. I, 250-267

Shakespeare would extend this kind of allegorical language of "preventative action" among assassins with the senators in Julius Ceasar several plays later. Here, the argument is a feeble attempt to justify Gloucester's murder. It erases all nobleness of motive for all involved, but especially York, as Shakespeare has positioned him as the chief beneficiary of all of the moral chicanery, concluding their ill design with

And now we three have spoke it,
It skills not greatly who impugns our doom.
III. I, 282-283

In other words, it hardly matters who passes judgement (of course, one would ask in retort, then why the cheap allegory?). In terms of character building, York has suddenly become very much the precursor of his treacherous third son, Richard III. Two-faced as he was since the start of the trilogy, I'd still argue that he was a rather sympathetic character before this scene; but his self-serving ambition has tipped over into outright treachery. It makes Henry's later decision to provide him with arms (ostensibly to serve England in Ireland) seem that much more foolhardy.

What these machinations have to do with the actual character of the historical figure of York remains a matter of conjecture. But it's fun storytelling.

[Tim]

Henry VI and God. One Biblical reference. For blessed are the peacemakers on earth. Matthew 5:9.
Otherwise Henry mentions God 20 times , Lord 2 times, O Thou 3 times, heaven 6 times and pray once.

O Lord, that lends me life,
Lend me a heart replete with thankfulness!
Act 1 sc 1

But what a point, my lord, your falcon made,
And what a pitch she flew above the rest!
To see how God in all his creatures works!

For blessed are the peacemakers on earth.
Matthew 5:9
--
Encounter with Simpcox Act 2 sc 1:
Now, God be praised, that to believing souls
Gives light in darkness, comfort in despair!

Good fellow, tell us here the circumstance,
That we for thee may glorify the Lord.
What, hast thou been long blind and now restored?

Poor soul, God's goodness hath been great to thee:

O God, seest Thou this, and bearest so long?

O God, what mischiefs work the wicked ones,
--
Stand forth, Dame Eleanor Cobham, Gloucester's wife:
In sight of God and us, your guilt is great:
Receive the sentence of the law for sins
Such as by God's book are adjudged to death.
Act 2 sc 3

Henry will to himself
Protector be; and God shall be my hope,

O God's name, see the lists and all things fit:
Here let them end it; and God defend the right!

And God in justice hath revealed to us
The truth and innocence of this poor fellow,

Cold news, Lord Somerset: but God's will be done!
Act 3 sc 1

Lords, take your places; and, I pray you all,
Proceed no straiter 'gainst our uncle Gloucester

O heavenly God!

But how he died God knows, not Henry:

O Thou that judgest all things, stay my thoughts,
My thoughts, that labour to persuade my soul
Some violent hands were laid on Humphrey's life!
If my suspect be false, forgive me, God,

O thou eternal Mover of the heavens.
Look with a gentle eye upon this wretch!

Peace to his soul, if God's good pleasure be!
Lord cardinal, if thou think'st on heaven's bliss,
Hold up thy hand, make signal of thy hope.
He dies, and makes no sign. O God, forgive him!


For God forbid so many simple souls
Should perish by the sword!
Act 4 sc 1

Come, Margaret; God, our hope, will succor us.

Then, heaven, set ope thy everlasting gates,
To entertain my vows of thanks and praise!

The head of Cade! Great God, how just art Thou!

Canst thou dispense with heaven for such an oath?

Can we outrun the heavens? good Margaret, stay.

[Marlin]

Thanks, Tim. That's a perfect segue to a consideration of the character with the second most lines in the play; Queen Margaret and, one might say, her chief complaint of her royal position which she voices to Suffolk:

I thought King Henry had resembled thee
In courage, courtship, and proportion.
But all his mind is bent to holiness,
To number Ave Marys on his beads;
His champions are the prophets and apostles,
His weapons holy saws of sacred writ,
His study is his tiltyard, and his loves
Are brazen images of canonized saints.
I would the College of the Cardinals
Would choose him pope and carry him to Rome
And set the triple crown upon his head!
That were a state fit for his holiness.
I.iii, 55-66

I'd say her contempt for the piousness of the king is primarily what makes her unsympathetic in my eyes (and I'd venture to say most audience members). She has little to no compassion for him - and seems to make no attempt to understand him. Actually, the women in this play are not drawn with much nuance, though the countess does elicit pity after her fall. Margaret, however, is really never more than a kind of she-wolf, showing not the slightest bit of grace in situations where tact and wise support to the king would sit her in better stead (even if only to carry on her affair with Suffolk more successfully). It's here that I'm inclined to agree with scholars like Germaine Greer who surmise that it might have been Anne Hathaway, Shakespeare's wife, who persuaded him to create more nuanced female parts for the men in his company. (If not her, perhaps the "Dark Lady" of the sonnets?) Who else might have been his prompter? Queen Margaret and, say, Shakespeare's Cleopatra are so far apart in terms of character construction that it's hard to believe that the Bard was uninfluenced by actual strong women in his own development as a dramatist...

[Tim]

Queen Margaret mentions God 4 times , heaven once and pray once. Mostly an expression of emotion.

I see no reason why a king of years
Should be to be protected like a child.
God and King Henry govern England's realm.
Act 2 sc 2

God forbid any malice should prevail,
That faultless may condemn a nobleman!
Pray God he may acquit him of suspicion!
Act 3 sc 2 Gloucester accused

Marry, God forfend!
Act 3 sc 2 Gloucester found dead

That I may dew it with my mournful tears;
Nor let the rain of heaven wet this place,
To wash away my woful monuments.
Act 3 sc 2 Earl of Suffolk banished

Why do you rate my Lord of Suffolk thus?
Although the duke was enemy to him,
Yet he most Christian-like laments his death:
Act 3 sc 2

[Marlin]

Tim wrote: "Queen Margaret mentions God 4 times , heaven once and pray once. Mostly an expression of emotion...
"

Yes, and none with grace. In fact, I'm really not sure what Shakespeare is up to with this long speech by Margaret in response to the grieving Henry who has just lost his lifetime (and England's) former Protector:

KING HENRY
Ah, woe is me for Gloucester, wretched man!
QUEEN MARGARET
Be woe for me, more wretched than he is.
What, dost thou turn away and hide thy face?
I am no loathsome leper. Look on me.
What, art thou, like the adder, waxen deaf?
Be poisonous too, and kill thy forlorn queen.
Is all thy comfort shut in Gloucester’s tomb?
Why, then, Dame Margaret was ne’er thy joy.
Erect his statue and worship it,
And make my image but an alehouse sign.
Was I for this nigh-wracked upon the sea
And twice by awkward wind from England’s bank
Drove back again unto my native clime?
What boded this, but well forewarning wind
Did seem to say “Seek not a scorpion’s nest,
Nor set no footing on this unkind shore”?
What did I then but cursed the gentle gusts
And he that loosed them forth their brazen caves
And bid them blow towards England’s blessèd shore
Or turn our stern upon a dreadful rock?
Yet Aeolus would not be a murderer,
But left that hateful office unto thee.
The pretty-vaulting sea refused to drown me,
Knowing that thou wouldst have me drowned on
shore
With tears as salt as sea, through thy unkindness.
The splitting rocks cow’red in the sinking sands
And would not dash me with their ragged sides
Because thy flinty heart, more hard than they,
Might in thy palace perish Margaret.
As far as I could ken thy chalky cliffs,
When from thy shore the tempest beat us back,
I stood upon the hatches in the storm,
And when the dusky sky began to rob
My earnest-gaping sight of thy land’s view,
I took a costly jewel from my neck—
A heart it was, bound in with diamonds—
And threw it towards thy land. The sea received it,
And so I wished thy body might my heart.
And even with this I lost fair England’s view,
And bid mine eyes be packing with my heart,
And called them blind and dusky spectacles
For losing ken of Albion’s wishèd coast.
How often have I tempted Suffolk’s tongue,
The agent of thy foul inconstancy,
To sit and watch me, as Ascanius did
When he to madding Dido would unfold
His father’s acts commenced in burning Troy!
Am I not witched like her, or thou not false like
him?
Ay me, I can no more. Die, Margaret,
For Henry weeps that thou dost live so long.
III. ii, 74-125

What sort of appeal to the king is this? I sincerely don't understand her psychology or exactly what Shakespeare is up to except to show that Margaret is most obtuse and (again) graceless to plead the pitifulness of her royal station in the aftermath of the former Protector's assassination. Remarkable as it is, the passage is the most extended bit of rhetoric (so far) in the trilogy that doesn't work because the character delivering it is such a blatant opportunist. She compares herself to a "maddened Dido", of all queens, who founded the city of Carthage and sacrificed it for the unfaithful Aneas. The argument might have been persuasive if we had seen evidence of Dido-like behavior hitherto this moment. However, she has essentially been a scheming adulterer since her arrival in England and has the temerity to include her lover in the argument.

As an audience member I don't know how we're supposed to feel sympathy. And I think there needs to be at least a smidgen of sympathy for us to receive the meaning of the language. But because she, like several characters in the play, is such a double dealer one resists her pleads for compassion and the poetry comes off as supremely artificial and most insincere. I really think it's a mistake here, however, Shakespeare certainly will put his best work in the mouths of outright reprobate characters in future plays such as Richard III and/or Iago in Othello; but I think they get an ear because they're self-confessed villains. We're fascinated by them. But I feel Margaret is too slenderly and (sorry) badly drawn as a character to warrant the attention of such a beautifully wrought passage.

Perhaps it was unavoidable that Shakespeare displayed brilliance in a character/situation that didn't necessarily warrant it (imo). It just puzzling why he chose to do it here. When you see a production of the play, albeit with full text in-tact, it stands out so dramatically in such "show-off" manner that, professional jealousy aside, you can almost sympathize with the contemporary critic who referred to the young writer as that "upstart crow".

[Marlin]

KING HENRY How now, madam?
Still lamenting and mourning for Suffolk’s death?
I fear me, love, if that I had been dead,
Thou wouldst not have mourned so much for me.
QUEEN MARGARET
No, my love, I should not mourn, but die for thee.
IV. iv, 21-25

Margaret's business of "serving two masters" is over with Suffolk's death and her cradling of the late duke's head is a kind of precursor to later mad-walking scenes from the likes of Lady Macbeth. Here I found the passage almost comic - and definitely macabre - like much of Act IV. While the above exchange hardly displays her loving devotion to Henry, there is loyalty, if little else.

[Marlin]

Before we move on to the third part of Henry VI there should be some consideration of the strange character of Jack Cade, as Shakespeare wrote him, of course.

First, there's an interesting talk that I just discovered today on a phrase that comes out of the Cade passages in Act IV:

ALL God save your Majesty!
CADE I thank you, good people.—There shall be no
money; all shall eat and drink on my score; and I
will apparel them all in one livery, that they may
agree like brothers and worship me their lord.
DICK The first thing we do, let’s kill all the lawyers.
CADE Nay, that I mean to do. Is not this a lamentable
thing, that of the skin of an innocent lamb should
be made parchment? That parchment, being scribbled
o’er, should undo a man? Some say the bee
stings, but I say, ’tis the beeswax; for I did but seal
once to a thing, and I was never mine own man
since.
IV. ii, 70-82

The talk on the layers reference (including a recap of the plays) is here: https://youtu.be/Y966V2kmaFM?si=I45OR...-

The passage reveals the fairly rational side of Cade but it seems to me that Cade is mostly drawn as someone, in practice anyway, who is often perverse for the sake of being perverse, similar to the way Henry is often pious for the sake of piousness. It seems to me that in both cases, the men at opposite ends of this moral arc are ultimately ineffective leaders because of their extremes. The most effective productions of part 2 that I've seen really emphasize this dichotomy of character traits which have ultimately tragic consequences. The productions that eliminate the Cade rebellion altogether (like the Hollow Crown series) are woefully lacking in scope and poignancy. After all, at the heart of the Henry VI (in my opinion) is an examination of what it means to be an effective leader, regardless of moral scruples. If we're not privy to the most dramatic examples of this via the original text a lot of the play's significance is lost.

[Tim]

I think Cade is illiterate. He distrusts any sort of paper ,printing ,books and education. Any one educated is a traitor.

Cade
...
Thou hast most traitorously
corrupted the youth of the realm in erecting a
grammar school; and whereas, before, our forefathers
had no other books but the score and the tally, thou
hast caused printing to be used, and, contrary to
the king, his crown and dignity, thou hast built a
paper-mill.
Act IV, Scene 7 29

Having rejected money, your quote.
CADE I thank you, good people.—There shall be no
money;
IV. ii, 70-82

Cade later demands money!

Cade
The proudest peer in the realm shall not wear a head
on his shoulders, unless he pay me tribute; there
shall not a maid be married, but she shall pay to me
her maidenhead ere they have it: men shall hold of
me in capite; and we charge and command that their
wives be as free as heart can wish or tongue can tell.
Act IV, Scene 7 112

[Marlin]

Exactly, Tim! But I don’t see him as personally illiterate as much as I see him, as you say, distrusting those who are literate. The argument that he and his followers build about the evil of education is a classic fascist ploy to build a dictatorship, which is precisely what Cade is doing. But he takes it to such perverse lengths that he defeats his own purposes - which is to rule. But how long can he rule over a populace with mob mentality? He has nothing but a code of destruction and obedience to offer them.

My contention is that Henry attempts to do the same thing from the other end - through a complete trust in the providence of God and subservience to the crown. But it renders him with an inability to act altogether. Henry and Cade are polar opposites in terms of leadership approaches but equally as doomed due to the same kind of blindness of the folly of their own methods; a pillage and burn demagoguery vs. a head in the sky devotion. There’s a portion of a line lifted from The Bible that Shakespeare has Henry speak about the rebels which is supremely ironic as it could just as rightly be applied to Cade and himself, “O, graceless men, they know not what they do!”

[Candy]

Absolutely great discussion and information and comments going on here. I'm doing my best to "catch up" and read to finish with you all.

Candy

[Marlin]

Looking forward to your insights, Candy! I'll more than likely start the new thread on Part 3 tomorrow.

Before we move on, though, I'd like to consider the whole business (in Act V) of York's staging of the "the betrayal" by King Henry of their agreement to have Somerset held in the Tower due to charges of treason. It's not really clear to me exactly what these charges, trumped up by York, really are. Earlier in the play York accused Somerset of being responsible for the almost complete loss of holdings in France due to his failed leadership in the field. Do these charges stem from this? It's a fairly flimsy rationale if it's the case and small wonder King Henry virtually ignores York's request to have Somerset arrested. York has been bent on acquiring the crown from the beginning of the play and, it seems to me, that Henry's betrayal is just a pretext to begin an armed takeover. Or is there (historically) more to York's argument against the king? Tim, do you know?


Bernard Hill as York from the 1983 BBC film

[Marlin]

Interesting snapshot of the historical Richard that I discovered today:
https://youtu.be/H3Vng8v_MKE?si=SClqU...


But a closer look at the tactics and strategies of the Yorks during this period is covered in this documentary on the life of Richard’s son, Edward IV:
https://youtu.be/dz1WPNITiCU?si=nN9qK...

After watching the docs two things become readily apparent:

1) The King's "betrayal" of York, as Shakespeare wrote it, is merely a dramatic ploy to cover decades of neglect by the King to repay and/or compensate Richard for years of service to the crown, meanwhile preferment and reward (including repaid debts plus interest) went to Somerset and the house of Lancaster.

2) Why didn't Shakespeare write an Edward IV play but conclude the tetralogy with Richard III? Edward was evidently made far more in the mold of a classic medieval warrior king than Henry VI (Edward never lost a battle!), though he did have to win back the crown after losing it in the ongoing war with the Lancastrians. The recapture would seem to provide enough drama for Elizabethans looking for English glory, though it did come at the expense of fellow English blood. That was apparently something that Elizabeth I, the reigning monarch who presided over the run of Shakespeare's plays, wanted to avoid at all costs. So creating a play to highlight that particular aspect of English history might not have been the most politic. I'll assume Shakespeare covers some of Edward's glory in the final part of Henry VI. Looking forward to it!

[Tim]

Marlin wrote: "Earlier in the play York accused Somerset of being responsible for the almost complete loss of holdings in France due to his failed leadership in the field. Do these charges stem from this? "
Somerset's campaign in France was a disaster and would be enough to have him arrested. Instead he was made Constable of England to almost universal dismay.
Also Shakespeare is telescoping events. There was a second march of Richard on London from his estates. It was then that Henry promised and failed to have Somerset arrested.

[Marlin]

Tim wrote: "Somerset's campaign in France was a disaster and would be enough to have him arrested. Instead he was made Constable of England to almost universal dismay.
Also Shakespeare is telescoping events..."

Quite. It just seemed to me that the telescoping required York to have some immediate dramatic justification to openly defy King Henry to his face. I'm not sure that modern audiences would assume that Somerset would be up for charges because of his military failures in France. So Richard can come off as overly ambitious with little justification, though historically, the crown had taken advantage of Richard's resources and abilities without recompense for decades.

Oh, and last night I discovered the answer to my "Why didn't Shakespeare write an Edward IV play?" query. He did. It was called Henry VI Part 3. :D

Let's start the Part 3 discussion (just a placeholder for now) here.

And as a reminder - BritBox has all three parts of the '83 BBC series (all faithful to the text) currently streaming.