Dying for a Word: The Consequences of Honor in Shakespeare’s Henry IV
Eric Shapiro - October 2010 - Introduction to Shakespeare
Superficially, Shakespeare’s Henry IV is a rather traditional play. Its basic plot, in which a wild, immature young prince is forced by circumstance to fulfill his destiny and become king, is one that audiences have seen many times before. However, a careful reading reveals that there is more to the play than meets the eye. Unlike many similar stories, Henry IV does not glorify the violence that the prince employs to achieve his goal, nor does it unconditionally accept the values that lead to such violence. On the contrary, Shakespeare is highly critical of the value placed on ideas such as honor, reputation and revenge. He demonstrates that these oft-praised notions are in fact destructive and prone to Machiavellian manipulation by individuals whose motives are less than pure.
Although Shakespeare tackles this many times in Henry IV, it is in Act 5, Scene 1 that he is explicit. King Henry, Prince Hal, and the Duke of Worcester all reveal honor as a major force guiding their actions, whether explicitly or indirectly. Subsequently, Falstaff’s speech serves to call these notions of honor into question.
The scene begins on a somber note, with King Henry’s foreboding observation: “How bloodily the sun begins to peer/Above yon busky hill! The day looks pale/at his distemperature.” Prince Hal adds that the wind rustling through the weeds “foretells a tempest and a blustering day.” All of these signs suggest that the upcoming battle will be a particularly bloody one. Although they are easy to dismiss as obvious foreshadowing, it is telling that Shakespeare goes out of his way to put them in.
By utilizing such ominous symbols at this key moment, he brings the darkness that has previously only been implied to the forefront of the play. Clearly, Shakespeare is stressing that war in Henry IV is not to be taken lightly or glorified, as in a tale of Camelot. This deliberate darkening of the play’s tone lends more weight to Falstaff’s later speech.
Upon arriving at the came,[Eric: Is “came” the correct word?] the Earl of Worcester enters into a debate with King Henry. Both men lament what they profess to be the irreconcilable differences that have made the upcoming battle necessary. Speaking for the rebels, Worcester declares: “And being fed by us you used us so/…by unkind usage, dangerous countenance,/and violation of all faith and troth/sworn to us in your younger enterprise.” Worcester is eloquent and forceful in his condemnation of the king, but he fails to muster any substantive argument for a rebellion. He does not speak of any bad policies or lapses in King Henry’s judgment that warrant such a response, relying instead on vague allegations of personal insult.
The key word in his speech is “used.” Worcester and the rebels resent the king for not showing the respect that they are somehow entitled to for helping him overthrow Richard II. They are not angry for any noble reason, but merely because they recognize that King Henry has used them in his Machiavellian scheme to take power. Their honor has been insulted, and for that, they organize a rebellion that is sure to claim many innocent lives. The upcoming battle is not to be fought for any legitimate purpose; it is merely the work of a few jealous nobles with punctured egos who think that overthrowing the king will raise their status and regain their honor.
King Henry does a much better job of covering up his motives, but beneath his rhetoric they are in fact very similar. Confronted with Worcester’s speech, he attempts to cast himself as a peace-loving king forced reluctantly forced into combat: “You have deceived our trust;/ and made us doff our easy robes of peace,/ to crush our old limbs in ungentle steel.” The notion of King Henry as a frail old man committed to peace is absurd in light of his earlier words. In the very first scene of the play he speaks of leading a crusade to Jerusalem and laments the untimely interference of Hotspur and Worcester, as it distracts from what he refers to as “our holy purpose.”
As is so often the case among those who subscribe to notions of honor and God-given duties, King Henry is drawn inexorably towards violence. Granted, he may indeed be telling the truth in the sense that he does not want to fight this particular battle against his own people, but the fact remains that the alternative is to fight another, likely even bloodier war overseas. And for what purpose? If he is anything like the other European monarchs who participated in the crusades, it is to take revenge on the Muslim infidels for taking what rightfully belongs to the Christians. In the process of doing so, he will restore honor to those who fell defending the holy city of Jerusalem in the name of a Christian god.
Although King Henry attempts to elevate himself above the petty dispute with the rebels in his own kingdom, his own motivations in a different instance are comparable to those of Worcester and the rebels. Like them, he is driven by an adherence to noble but destructive notions of honor, pride and revenge.
In the world of Henry IV, the apple does not fall far from the tree. Prince Hal, like his father, adroitly cloaks his pursuit of honor and glory through violence in noble intentions. After praising Henry Percy (Hotspur) for his valiance, the Prince offers to “Try fortune with him in a single fight” in order to “save the blood on either side.” This might seem noble if not for a subsequent speech in which Prince Hal reveals his true motivation. In Act III, Scene 2, when King Henry claims that his son has dishonored himself by consorting with “vulgar company” (Falstaff and company) and that Hotspur would make a fitter king, Hal declares: “the time will come/that I shall make this northern youth exchange/His glorious deeds for my indignities.” Thus, the prince casts a shadow on his later vow to face Hotspur to spare the blood of his people. He wants his actions to seem selfless, but in reality they are motivated by a desire for the honor and glory that he has neglected to accumulate, having spent his life as a delinquent. Once again, Shakespeare demonstrates that the pursuit of honor leads to violence.
When Falstaff is initially introduced, he is portrayed in a highly unflattering light. Foul-mouthed, selfish, dishonest and indulgent are words one might use to describe him. Falstaff’s role in the play is also easy to misinterpret; he spends a great deal of time engaging in seemingly superfluous wordplay with Henry and indulging his vast array of bad habits. He is a crude, self-centered lowlife at the beginning of the play, and much the same thing at its conclusion. It is therefore ironic that what Falstaff delivers is more enlightened than the royalty and the nobility when it comes to honor.
Underneath all his bawdy jokes and rolls of blubber, Falstaff embodies a philosophy of individualistic, free-spirited hedonism completely foreign to the royalty and nobles that comprise most of the cast. Unbound by the trappings of honor and revenge, Falstaff acts as a foil to more respectable men whose obsession with revenge, honor and reputation drag the people of Britain into war. Shakespeare does not intend for Falstaff’s speech at the conclusion of Act 5, Scene 1 to be interpreted on its own. Rather, it is an articulation of the character’s underlying philosophy; one that Shakespeare wants the audience to contemplate: “What is honour? A word. What is that word honour? Air. A trim reckoning!-who hath it? He that died Wednesday… Tis insensible, then? Yea.” In this speech, Falstaff expresses a truth that no other character in the play grasps. The concept of honor that motivates the royal family, their allies and the rebels alike does not exist in any real sense. It has no tangible effects on the living and only seems to truly benefit the dead, or, less favorably, provides an excuse for them to die. What might appear in a different context as a coward’s justification for avoiding combat takes on a tragic element of profound truth when so many die in the subsequent battle.
In his exchange with Worcester, King Henry accuses the rebels of coming up with an elaborate set of excuses in order to “face the garment of rebellion/With some fine colour that may please the eye.” The king is not deliberately referring to honor in this speech, but his words nevertheless describe exactly the function of a hollow, manmade concept that serves to provide a pretext for men to act in ways that would otherwise seem reprehensible. Honor allows King Henry, Prince Hal, the Earl of Worcester and several other characters in the play to boost their own egos at the expense of others without any guilt or second thoughts. When a few men’s preoccupation with honor culminates in a pointlessly bloody battle, one cannot help but wonder if the world would be a better place if people thought a little bit more like Falstaff.
Superficially, Shakespeare’s Henry IV is a rather traditional play. Its basic plot, in which a wild, immature young prince is forced by circumstance to fulfill his destiny and become king, is one that audiences have seen many times before. However, a careful reading reveals that there is more to the play than meets the eye. Unlike many similar stories, Henry IV does not glorify the violence that the prince employs to achieve his goal, nor does it unconditionally accept the values that lead to such violence. On the contrary, Shakespeare is highly critical of the value placed on ideas such as honor, reputation and revenge. He demonstrates that these oft-praised notions are in fact destructive and prone to Machiavellian manipulation by individuals whose motives are less than pure.
Although Shakespeare tackles this many times in Henry IV, it is in Act 5, Scene 1 that he is explicit. King Henry, Prince Hal, and the Duke of Worcester all reveal honor as a major force guiding their actions, whether explicitly or indirectly. Subsequently, Falstaff’s speech serves to call these notions of honor into question.
The scene begins on a somber note, with King Henry’s foreboding observation: “How bloodily the sun begins to peer/Above yon busky hill! The day looks pale/at his distemperature.” Prince Hal adds that the wind rustling through the weeds “foretells a tempest and a blustering day.” All of these signs suggest that the upcoming battle will be a particularly bloody one. Although they are easy to dismiss as obvious foreshadowing, it is telling that Shakespeare goes out of his way to put them in.
By utilizing such ominous symbols at this key moment, he brings the darkness that has previously only been implied to the forefront of the play. Clearly, Shakespeare is stressing that war in Henry IV is not to be taken lightly or glorified, as in a tale of Camelot. This deliberate darkening of the play’s tone lends more weight to Falstaff’s later speech.
Upon arriving at the came,[Eric: Is “came” the correct word?] the Earl of Worcester enters into a debate with King Henry. Both men lament what they profess to be the irreconcilable differences that have made the upcoming battle necessary. Speaking for the rebels, Worcester declares: “And being fed by us you used us so/…by unkind usage, dangerous countenance,/and violation of all faith and troth/sworn to us in your younger enterprise.” Worcester is eloquent and forceful in his condemnation of the king, but he fails to muster any substantive argument for a rebellion. He does not speak of any bad policies or lapses in King Henry’s judgment that warrant such a response, relying instead on vague allegations of personal insult.
The key word in his speech is “used.” Worcester and the rebels resent the king for not showing the respect that they are somehow entitled to for helping him overthrow Richard II. They are not angry for any noble reason, but merely because they recognize that King Henry has used them in his Machiavellian scheme to take power. Their honor has been insulted, and for that, they organize a rebellion that is sure to claim many innocent lives. The upcoming battle is not to be fought for any legitimate purpose; it is merely the work of a few jealous nobles with punctured egos who think that overthrowing the king will raise their status and regain their honor.
King Henry does a much better job of covering up his motives, but beneath his rhetoric they are in fact very similar. Confronted with Worcester’s speech, he attempts to cast himself as a peace-loving king forced reluctantly forced into combat: “You have deceived our trust;/ and made us doff our easy robes of peace,/ to crush our old limbs in ungentle steel.” The notion of King Henry as a frail old man committed to peace is absurd in light of his earlier words. In the very first scene of the play he speaks of leading a crusade to Jerusalem and laments the untimely interference of Hotspur and Worcester, as it distracts from what he refers to as “our holy purpose.”
As is so often the case among those who subscribe to notions of honor and God-given duties, King Henry is drawn inexorably towards violence. Granted, he may indeed be telling the truth in the sense that he does not want to fight this particular battle against his own people, but the fact remains that the alternative is to fight another, likely even bloodier war overseas. And for what purpose? If he is anything like the other European monarchs who participated in the crusades, it is to take revenge on the Muslim infidels for taking what rightfully belongs to the Christians. In the process of doing so, he will restore honor to those who fell defending the holy city of Jerusalem in the name of a Christian god.
Although King Henry attempts to elevate himself above the petty dispute with the rebels in his own kingdom, his own motivations in a different instance are comparable to those of Worcester and the rebels. Like them, he is driven by an adherence to noble but destructive notions of honor, pride and revenge.
In the world of Henry IV, the apple does not fall far from the tree. Prince Hal, like his father, adroitly cloaks his pursuit of honor and glory through violence in noble intentions. After praising Henry Percy (Hotspur) for his valiance, the Prince offers to “Try fortune with him in a single fight” in order to “save the blood on either side.” This might seem noble if not for a subsequent speech in which Prince Hal reveals his true motivation. In Act III, Scene 2, when King Henry claims that his son has dishonored himself by consorting with “vulgar company” (Falstaff and company) and that Hotspur would make a fitter king, Hal declares: “the time will come/that I shall make this northern youth exchange/His glorious deeds for my indignities.” Thus, the prince casts a shadow on his later vow to face Hotspur to spare the blood of his people. He wants his actions to seem selfless, but in reality they are motivated by a desire for the honor and glory that he has neglected to accumulate, having spent his life as a delinquent. Once again, Shakespeare demonstrates that the pursuit of honor leads to violence.
When Falstaff is initially introduced, he is portrayed in a highly unflattering light. Foul-mouthed, selfish, dishonest and indulgent are words one might use to describe him. Falstaff’s role in the play is also easy to misinterpret; he spends a great deal of time engaging in seemingly superfluous wordplay with Henry and indulging his vast array of bad habits. He is a crude, self-centered lowlife at the beginning of the play, and much the same thing at its conclusion. It is therefore ironic that what Falstaff delivers is more enlightened than the royalty and the nobility when it comes to honor.
Underneath all his bawdy jokes and rolls of blubber, Falstaff embodies a philosophy of individualistic, free-spirited hedonism completely foreign to the royalty and nobles that comprise most of the cast. Unbound by the trappings of honor and revenge, Falstaff acts as a foil to more respectable men whose obsession with revenge, honor and reputation drag the people of Britain into war. Shakespeare does not intend for Falstaff’s speech at the conclusion of Act 5, Scene 1 to be interpreted on its own. Rather, it is an articulation of the character’s underlying philosophy; one that Shakespeare wants the audience to contemplate: “What is honour? A word. What is that word honour? Air. A trim reckoning!-who hath it? He that died Wednesday… Tis insensible, then? Yea.” In this speech, Falstaff expresses a truth that no other character in the play grasps. The concept of honor that motivates the royal family, their allies and the rebels alike does not exist in any real sense. It has no tangible effects on the living and only seems to truly benefit the dead, or, less favorably, provides an excuse for them to die. What might appear in a different context as a coward’s justification for avoiding combat takes on a tragic element of profound truth when so many die in the subsequent battle.
In his exchange with Worcester, King Henry accuses the rebels of coming up with an elaborate set of excuses in order to “face the garment of rebellion/With some fine colour that may please the eye.” The king is not deliberately referring to honor in this speech, but his words nevertheless describe exactly the function of a hollow, manmade concept that serves to provide a pretext for men to act in ways that would otherwise seem reprehensible. Honor allows King Henry, Prince Hal, the Earl of Worcester and several other characters in the play to boost their own egos at the expense of others without any guilt or second thoughts. When a few men’s preoccupation with honor culminates in a pointlessly bloody battle, one cannot help but wonder if the world would be a better place if people thought a little bit more like Falstaff.