Henry VI part 1 (1591) by William Shakespeare

• 
  by William Shakespeare (possibly with Thomas Nashe)
  
• Genre: Play, Historical play
• Written: 1591
• My edition: The Complete Works of William Shakespeare, J.W. Edwards Inc., 2009
• Setting: 1422, England and France, opens at the funeral of Henry V

 

This play is part of the Henriad that is made up of 2 tetralogies, or 2 sets of four plays. The first tetralogy: Richard II, Henry IV part 1, Henry IV part 2, and Henry V, is sometimes considered the Henriad by itself. In a broader definition, the Henriad includes the second tetralogy: Henry VI part 1, Henry VI part 2, Henry VI part 3, and Richard III. And to confuse things just a bit more, the second tetralogy was written earlier than the first, but chronologically takes place later.

 

So, this is the 5th play in the full Henriad, and the 1st play in the second tetralogy of the Henriad.

 

Enough of that!

 

The play opens on the funeral of Henry V. It gets a little depressing after that.  

 

As with any play, it is meant to be enacted. Much is lost when reading a play; reading Shakespeare’s plays is particularly challenging. However, I had a split decision of both the pleasure and the ease of reading this play. I found the action—what was happening—rather easy to follow in this play. But exactly who was doing what, that was a bit confusing due to a dizzying cast of characters. There is a host of English dukes, earls, knights, soldiers, and of course the King, and then there is the same on the French side. There are a few ladies, maidens, and one Joan of Arc.

 

The French were pretty easy to keep track of, but the English? There’s a lot of duplicity going on, and it is difficult to remember who is loyal to whom, and why and when. Some of them even change titles mid-play. I made myself a cheat sheet, and added notes for each English peer as some new intrigue was added to their account. And with that, everything came up roses.

 

Little pun there. This part of the Henriad covers the historical period known as the War of the Roses: a period of the English monarchy, 1455 - 1487 with various houses vying for control, through intrigue, betrayal, covert and overt battles.

 

I am working my way through the Henriad, and I’ve enjoyed it very much. This was no exception. It is one of Shakespeare’s earliest history plays, and it shows. It’s a bit less extravagant. As I said, it was fairly easy to follow the action—not always my experience with Shakespeare.

 

Spoiler alert: As is often the case, the one true, noble, and admirable character doesn’t survive the play: Lord Talbot. He is overpowered by the French because suspicious groups on the English side fail to come to his aid. There is a powerful scene when Lord Talbot urges his own son Jonathan to flee the field, for if he stays they both shall die. Jonathan responds:

Then let me stay; and, father do you fly:

Your loss is great, so your regard should be;

My worth unknown, no loss is known in me.

Upon my death the French can little boast;

In yours they will, in you all hopes are lost.

Flight cannot stain the honour you have won;

But mine it will, that no exploit have done;

You fled for vantage, every one will swear;

But if I bow, they’ll say it was for fear,

There is no hope that ever I will stay,

If the first hour I shrink and run away.

Here, on my knee, I beg mortality,

Rather than life preserv’d with infamy.

Besides Lord Talbot, the most interesting character is Joan of Arc. Spoiler alert: She will not survive the play either. She is battling the Duke of York, who thinks she will use witchcraft to change him into some other form. She retorts: 

Chang’d to a worser shape thou canst not be.

Great line, great play! Historically, it marks the beginning of the end of English rule of France; the beginning of the War of the Roses; the beginning of the end of the House of Lancaster; and the rise of the House of York.

 

It is also the start of Shakespeare’s history plays.

 

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Love’s Labour’s Lost by William Shakespeare

Love’s Labour’s Lost is a comedy by William Shakespeare, written in the late sixteenth century.

 

Ferdinand, king of Navarre, and three of his noblemen, Lord Berowne, Lord Longaville, and Lord Dumaine, swear off women for three years in order to devote themselves to study.

 

What could go wrong? The arrival of the Princess of France, and her three attendants, Lady Rossaline, Lady Maria, and Lady Katherine.

 

Now get this, you’ll never guess, but the Pincess and her ladies just happen to be beautiful, and single.

 

The play can almost write itself: well conceived for the Bard’s comedic pen.

 

But I had a little problem with it. Although the situation did indeed produce some wonderful comic moments, and witty dialogue, there were also eventualities that I found incongruent, inexplicable, or unnecessary.

 

The incongruity: The greatest weakness, in my opinion, is how how easily the King and company excuse themselves from their oaths. They had sworn that if they should break them they would…

 

Endure such public shame as the rest of the court can possibly devise.

 

But they rather flippantly decide that since love is the most worthy study, it’s ok to break their oaths.

 

The comedy is great. Their infidelity is just too easy, too quick, too without shame.

 

The inexplicable. Once they collectively decide to forget about that silly old oath, they disguise themselves as Russians in order to profess their love. Ummm…what?!?

 

Still, great comedy ensues, as the Princess and her ladies learn of this plan, and themselves exchange veils and costumes, so as to confound their lovesick admirers.

 

The Princess explains this…

 

We are wise girls to mock our lovers so.

 

And later, in a bit more detail…

 

The effect of my intent is to cross theirs:

They do it but in mocking merriment;

And mock for mock is only my intent.

Their several counsels they unbosom shall

To loves mistook; and so be mock’d withal

Upon the next occasion that we meet.

With visages display’d to talk and greet.

 

That at least makes sense.

 

The uneccesary: A bit later all deceipt is unmasked, they all have a good chuckle, and are immediately treated to a play of The Nine Worthies: the play within the play, enacted by some other minor characters in Shakespeare’s play. Ohhhkay.

 

Before The Nine Worthies is finished a messenger arrives with sad news that the Princess’ father has died, which is kind of a bummer, considering this is a comedy. In pretty short order, the King and Lords promise to wait a year and a day, while the Princess and Ladies mourn, and then all will be happily married, and all’s well that ends well…pardon the Shakespearific pun.

 

As always, I’m certain it would come off better experienced via stage rather than read. I wasn’t a big fan, due to the inconsistencies I’ve mentioned. It isn’t just me. This is not one of Shakespeare’s more respected plays.

 

Also, I don't get the second apostrophe in the title: Labour's What? 

 

 

 

 

As You Like It by William Shakespeare

All the world’s a stage,
And all the men and women merely players. ~ Jacques

 

As You Like It is a comedy by William Shakespeare, written in the early seventeenth century. It is a complex tale of an exiled Duke, his younger brother, and usurper Frederick.

Lest we pity the exiled Senior Duke, he professes acceptance of his lot quite nobly...

 

And this our life, exempt from public haunt,

Finds tongue in trees, books in the running brooks,

Sermons in stones, and good in everything.

I would not change it.

 

But the real story is about Rosalind, the Senior Duke’s daughter, who remains at court until she runs afoul of her uncle and then flees with her cousin Celia, and the court fool, to the forest of Arden where the Senior Duke resides in exile. Rosalind travels incognito as the young man Ganymede, while Celia is disguised as the maiden Aliena.

 

If you know anything of Shakespeare, you should guess that Rosalind, while posing as a man, meets her love in the forest. Orlando befriends Ganymede and laments his hopeless love for the lady Rosalind to Ganymede, who is, of course, Rosalind herself.

 

Why she doesn’t reveal her true identity and profess her love for Orlando was lost on me; likely for some political necessity.

 

Meanwhile, a young shepherdess, Phebe, falls in love with Ganymede despite Ganymede’s/Rosalind’s best efforts to discourage her, for reasons obvious to the reader, but less obvious to Phebe. Phebe in turn shuns the love of the worthy shepherd Silvius.

 

Oh yes, the court fool, Touchstone, also falls in love, with the simple-minded shepherdess Audrey. Of course he does. And then there's a suitor for Celia as well.

 

A perfect Shakespearean comedy. In the end, Rosalind, still posing as Ganymede, concocts an intricate plot that will enable all the lovers and, by their oath, bind them to marry their lovers on the morrow. They agree but are not very hopeful. I wasn’t very hopeful myself, but it may have been more from confusion than genuine doubt.

 

But since it’s a comedy, you might guess how it turns out. Even Frederick repents from usurping his brother, adopts a religious life, and restores the Senior Duke to his domain.

 

If you’ll pardon the pun, all’s well that ends well.

 

I liked this play very much. It is sometimes confusing, but I suspect that is intentional. I think it would likely be clearer, and more comical, if experienced as it should be: enacted on stage.

 

This play contains one of the greatest lines in Shakespearean dialogue, albeit by a minor character, Jacques, brother of Orlando, and a very melancholy soul. This first line should be familiar. I’ve included his entire speech, which shows his cynicism, wit, and wisdom.

 

All the world’s a stage,
And all the men and women merely players.
They have their exits and their entrances,
And one man in his time plays many parts,
His acts being seven ages. At first the infant,
Mewling and puking in the nurse’s arms.
Then the whining schoolboy with his satchel
And shining morning face, creeping like snail
Unwillingly to school. And then the lover,
Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad
Made to his mistress’ eyebrow. Then a soldier,
Full of strange oaths and bearded like the pard,
Jealous in honor, sudden and quick in quarrel,
Seeking the bubble reputation
Even in the cannon’s mouth. And then the justice,
In fair round belly with good capon lined,
With eyes severe and beard of formal cut,
Full of wise saws and modern instances;
And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts
Into the lean and slippered pantaloon
With spectacles on nose and pouch on side,
His youthful hose, well saved, a world too wide
For his shrunk shank, and his big manly voice,
Turning again toward childish treble, pipes
And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all,
That ends this strange eventful history,
Is second childishness and mere oblivion,
Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.

 

Contemporary aphorisms derived from this play:

 

Rosalind, posing as a man, asks Orlando…

But are you so much in love as your rhymes speak?

 

To which Orlando replies…

Neither rhyme nor reason can express how much.

 

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The Winter's Tale by William Shakespeare

The Winter’s Tale is a comedy by William Shakespeare, written in the early seventeenth century.

Or is it a tragedy?

 

It could be either. It is one of my least favorites, primarily due to this ambiguity.

 

Leontes, King of Sicilia, is hosting his childhood friend Polixenes, now the King of Bohemia, for some nine months. When Polixenes declares he must return to his realm, Leontes tries to dissuade him but fails. He sends his queen, Hermione, who persuades Polixenes to extend his visit. The queen’s success evokes suspicion in Leontes, which in turn produces tragic consequences. But by the fourth act, in true Bardic fashion, a series of comic capers set all things right.

 

Excepting the dead prince.

 

Meh, For me, it mostly didn’t work.

 

I probably missed them, but I didn’t notice any of Shakespeare’s aphorisms that have become part of our current vernacular. Though there is one delightful stage direction…

 

Exit, pursued by a bear

 

That didn’t turn out well.

 

The title doesn’t say much either. It is taken from one character stating…

 

A sad tale’s best for winter: I have one of sprites and goblins.

 

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The Taming of the Shrew by William Shakespeare

The Taming of the Shrew is a comedy by William Shakespeare, written late sixteenth century.

 

Like most of Shakespeare’s comedies, there is more than one story. The title refers to Katharina, the shrew, and the efforts of her husband, Petruchio, to tame her. The secondary story is about Katharina’s sweet sister Bianca and her three suitors: Lucentio, Gremio, and Hortensio.

 

In one sense, this play does not age well. It’s quite misogynistic. Petruchio overtly declares…

 

She is my goods, my chattels…

 

But that was the reality of sixteenth-century Italy. A wife was not a partner. Her husband was lord and master. It isn’t very believable, at any rate. It’s a preposterous farce.

 

Katharina was beautiful and came with a good dowry, but she was indeed a shrew. Even her father avowed as much. When she briefly thought Petruchio had left her at the altar, she leaves the room crying, and her father professes…

 

Go girl; I cannot blame thee now to weep

For such an injury would vex a very saint,

Much more a shrew of thy impatient humour.

 

Petruchio was wealthy in his own right and presumably could have wooed a more amiable companion. I’m unsure what set his mind on Katharina, but he was confident he could tame her. I’m not sure what convinced Katharina to consent either. But they are wed, and Petruchio begins the taming. He withholds food, decent clothing, sleep, and other wishes until his wife becomes more dutiful. But at different times, he is unphased and even pleasant in response to her spite. And it seems to work. Katharina wonders...

 

The more my wrong, the more his spite appears:

What, did he marry me to famish me?

Beggars, that come unto my father’s door,

Upon entreaty have a present alms;

If not, elsewhere they meet with charity:

But I, - who never knew how to entreat,

Nor never needed that I should entreat, –

Am starved for meat, giddy for lack of sleep;

With oaths kept waking, and with brawling fed:

And that which spites me more than all these wants,

He does it under the name of perfect love;…

 

Or, from Petruchio’s perspective…

 

This is a way to kill a wife with kindness

And thus I’ll curb her mad and headstrong humour.

He that knows better how to tame a shrew,

Now let him speak; ‘tis charity to show.

 

And then there’s the contesting for sweet Bianca. And that just gets silly. At least four persons assume someone else’s identity, a common ploy of Shakespeare, though I wasn’t always certain what the deception was supposed to accomplish. It works for one in the end, who wins fair Bianca. One of her other suitors gets a different wife, and at the end of the play, the three new husbands wager on who has the most dutiful wife; of course, Katharina wins the day.

King Henry V by William Shakespeare

Henry V is the fourth and final play in Shakespeare’s tetralogy or Henriad: four plays regarding the succession from King Richard II – Henry IV – Henry V. Written in the late 16^thcentury, it primarily covers the British victory at the battle of Agincourt, 1415, which resulted in a brief truce to the Hundred Years War.

 

And though it covers the battle, I would say it is about Henry (aka Harry) truly becoming a King. In his youth he was a spoiled wastrel, but at his father’s deathbed he promised to be a better man, and a worthy King. It didn’t happen overnight, but it definitely comes to fruition in this play.

 

Henry carefully and sincerely ponders the justice of the war, and is slow to accept it. But when convinced that he has rightful claims to the French throne, he still tries to avoid war by giving King Charles VI of France terms – relinquish the crown – terms which are of course, rejected. 

 

I would say I liked this but didn’t love it, but for Henry’s St. Crispin’s day speech [Act IV, scene III] 

 

We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;

For he to-day that sheds his blood with me

Shall be my brother; be he ne’er so vile,

This day shall gentle his condition:

And gentlemen in England now a-bed

Shall think themselves accurs’d they were not here

And hold their manhoods cheap while any speaks

That fought with us upon Saint Crispin’s day.

 

There’s much more to the speech. It’s all the Bard’s embellishment of course. We know of no such speech, but Henry is so persuasive, he rouses the men to battle hysteria. Henry questions his cousin, the Earl of Westmoreland, who moments before had wished for more men.

 

[King H] Thou dost not wish more help from England coz?

[Earl] God’s will my liege, would you and I alone

Without more help, could fight this royal battle!

[King H] Why, now thou hast unwish’d five thousand men;

Which likes me better than to wish us one – 

You know your places: God be with you all!

 

The British are tired, ill-fed, sick, and hopelessly outnumbered, and yet they win the day. Henry is quick to give God the glory, and issues death penalty to any who boast otherwise.

 

Come, go we in procession to the village:

And be it death proclaimed through our host

To boast of this, or take that praise from God

Which is his only

 

 

This is not my favorite of the Historical plays, but Henry’s speech does make it worthwhile. There is less comic relief than most, and what there is, is lost if you don’t read French. As part of the truce, Henry is to marry the French Princess Katherine. His French is bad, her English is worse, and there is some playful attempt at wooing, but my French is worse than Henry’s, so it wasn’t as fun as I’m sure it should be. 

 

You must be careful of the “history” in this historical play. Shakespeare greatly embellishes the odds at 5 to 1 in favor of the French. It was probably closer to 2 to 1. He gets the casualty numbers even further out of proportion. I don’t know if this was poetic license, patriotic zeal, or perhaps accepted “truth” of the day. 

 

There is a very good film adaptation, with Kenneth Branagh as Henry. It omits a few lines here and there, but the Saint Crispin’s day speech is 100% faithful as far as I could tell. And in my very novice opinion, no one does Shakespeare as well as Branagh. Most actors I’ve witnessed recite…as if they are reciting. Branagh delivers each line as it were the expression of his natural passion. 

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King Henry IV, Second Part by William Shakespeare

Henry IV, part two is the third play in Shakespeare’s tetralogy or Henriad: four plays regarding the succession from King Richard II – Henry IV – Henry V. Written in the late 16^thcentury, it covers the final days of Henry IV (1413) and the ascension of his son Henry V who reigned from 1413 – 1422.

 

In the previous play, Prince Henry (aka Hal, aka Harry) is chided by the King for being a wastrel, and for his association with Sir John Falstaff – who although a Knight and loyal to Henry is two-faced, craven, and hedonistic. Prince Henry vows to become a better man, but at the outset of part two – the change is not yet apparent. 

 

This is probably my least favorite thus far, of the historical plays. I liked Henry IV part one very much, but in part two, the various acts seem disconnected. Prince Henry begins to see Falstaff for the scoundrel that he is, there is the putting down of the rebellion, and the death of the King even as he learns the rebellion is ended. There is a good deal of comic relief – perhaps more than most of Shakespeare’s historical plays – but it didn’t really work for me.

 

There is a touching scene between the dying King and his successor.

 

King Henry: …God knows, my son,

By what by-paths and indirect crook’d ways

I met this crown; and I myself know well

How Troublesome it sat upon my head:

To thee it shall descend with better quiet,

 

and…

 

How I came by the crown, O God forgive;

And grant it may with thee in true peace live!

 

And the response:

Prince Henry: My gracious liege,

You won it, wore it, kept it, gave it me;

Then plain and right must my possession be:

Which I with more than with a common pain

‘Gainst all the world will rightfully maintain

 

Shorthly thereafter, one official inquires of another

 

Chief Justice: How doth the King?

Earl of Warwick: Exceedingly well; his cares are now all ended.

 

Henry makes a good start, and appears to be the man a king should be. The audience is given an epilogue by an unnamed dancer…that there is more of this tale yet to tell…which of course will be the play: King Henry V.

 

Modern day colloquialisms from Henry IV part two

Falstaff asks Pistol: What wind blew you hither, Pistol?

Pistol: Not the ill wind which blows no man to good.

Modern rendering: It’s an ill wind that blows no good

 

Later Falstaff asks Pistol: What, Is the old king dead?

Pistol: As a nail in the door

Modern rendering: as dead as a door nail

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All's Well that Ends Well by William Shakespeare

All’s Well that Ends Well by William Shakespeare 

All’s Well that Ends Well is a comedy, by William Shakespeare, written around the turn of the seventeenth century.

It is primarily about Helena, daughter of a late illustrious physician. Helena is under the care of the Countess of Rousillon, and is in love with the Countess’ son, Bertram – the Count of Rousillon. But Helena has no hope of winning Bertram due to disparity in their lineage.

Until she, through craft and medicine that she inherited from father, is able to heal the King of France, who promises her any eligible bachelor of his court – which includes Bertram.

Bertram will not have her though, until the hot displeasure of the King persuades him. They have a marriage ceremony, but Bertram will not consummate the marriage, and indeed vows to never until Helena can gain the heirloom ring that he wears, and bears him a child – which of course will be problematic – the marriage being unconsummated.

Except for one of those Shakespeare hallmarks, the “bed trick”, where one person goes to bed with another, believing it to be someone other than whom it is in reality.

There’s a great deal more intrigue, and it’s very clever, but not very satisfying – name of the play notwithstanding. 

Helena – she was beautiful, virtuous, and much the victim, but I couldn’t be too happy for her, as I don’t think the Count was much of a prize. And she loses a few points for even wanting the scoundrel.

The Count – He was a cad and a libertine, didn’t like him at all. He was of noble birth, quit himself admirably in battle, probably good looking, so I guess he’s considered a prize. Meh.

There were two admirable people in the play: Lafeu an elderly Lord, and the Countess, who denounced her son, and embraced Helena.

But they didn’t make up for the ending: All’s well – really? Helena has a jerk husband, Bertram has a saint wife. Meh.

Again, very clever twists and turns, brilliantly written, very funny at times, but I just couldn’t feel good about the outcome.

Excerpts:

Helena pleading her healing ability to the skeptical King

I am not an impostor, that proclaim

Myself against the level of mine aim;

But know I think, and think I know most sure,

My art is not past power, nor you past cure.

The King admonishing Bertram for rejecting Helena

All that is virtuous, - save what thou dislik’st,

A poor physician’s daughter, - thou dislik’st

Of virtue for the name: but do not so:

From lowest place when virtuous things proceed,

The place is dignified by the doer’s deed

Countess expressing her love for Helena, in spite of Bertram’s rejection.

I pr’vthee, lady, have a better cheer;

If thou engrossest all the griefs are thine,

Thou robb’st me of a moiety. He was my son;

But I do wash his name out of my blood,

And thou art my child

Helena, explaining the trickery that will get Bertram to her bed – he thinking it is with another

Why, then, tonight

Is wicked meaning in a lawful act

Where both not sin, and yet a sinful fact;

But let’s about it

Lafeu, thinking Helena is dead, now pleads to the King to forgive Bertram

But first, I beg your pardon, – the young lord

Did to his majesty, his mother, and his lady,

Offense of mighty note; but to himself

The greatest wrong of all: he lost a wife

A maiden who Bertram thought he seduced, but was a conspirator with Helena, explaining things to the king

…but for this lord [Bertram]

Who hath abus’d me, as he knows himself,

Though yet he never harm’d me, here I quit him:

He knows himself my bed he hath defil’d;

And at that time he got his wife with child.

Dead though she be, she feels her young one kick;

So, there’s my riddle – One that’s dead is quick

And now behold the meaning.

    [Enter Helena]

Final verses

The king’s a beggar, now the play is done:

All is well-ended if this suit be won,

That you express content; which we will pay

With strife to please you, day exceeding day:

Ours be your patience then, and yours our parts;

Your gentle hands lead us, and take our hearts.

This play satisfies square I-3, Classic Drama or Play, in the 2020 Classic BINGO Challenge.

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King John by William Shakespeare

King John by William Shakespeare

This England never did, nor never shall,

Lie at the proud foot of a conqueror ~ the Bastard

(repost of an accidentally deleted review from may 2019)

The Life and Death of King John is a historical play, written in the late 16^th Century, but not published until the early 17^th Century.

I am slowly working my way through the entire works of Shakespeare and have finally gotten to his historical plays. I’ve read all the Sonnets and other poetry, quite a few comedies, and several tragedies. This is the first of the historical plays that I’ve read. I decided to read the historical plays in chronological order, so King John is first. The historical King John of England reigned from 1199 until his death in 1216. He was the son of King Henry II and Duchess Eleanor of Aquitaine, succeeded his older brother Richard I to the throne, and was succeeded by his own son Henry who necessarily became King Henry III.

The play centers around the legitimacy of King John’s right to the throne. John is the oldest surviving son of King Henry II, but his older brother, Geffrey had a son, Arthur (no, not THAT Arthur). I am uncertain of 13^th Century British rules of succession, but I think Arthur had a strong case. Other advocates for Arthur included King Philip of France, Cardinal Pandolf legate of the Holy See, and of course Arthur’s mother, Lady Constance. John’s advocates include Queen Eleanor, and the Bastard, the illegitimate son of John’s brother King Richard I.

The play is about confusing genealogies, shifting loyalties, and family feuds. I am tempted to call them petty feuds, but they do decide the King of England, so petty is probably unfair.

At one point, the matter is settled by the marriage of John’s niece Blanch, to King Philip’s son Louis (no, not THAT Louis). But moments after the marriage, older, more sacred alliances are recalled and the debate is renewed. Poor Blanch, caught in the middle of the muddled affair, faces war between her new husband and her uncle. She expresses her dismay – which is I think fairly representative of the entire matter:

          The sun’s o’ercast with blood. Fair day, adieu!

          Which is the side that I must go withal?

          I am with both:  each army hath a hand;

          And in their rage, I having hold of both,

          They whirl asunder and dismember me.

          Husband, I cannot pray that thou mayest win;

          Uncle, I needs must pray that thou mayest lose;

          Father, I may not wish the fortune thine;

          Grandam, I will not wish thy wishes thrive.  

          Whoever wins, on that side shall I lose:

          Assured loss before the match be play’d

SPOILER ALERT: In the end, it is all settled rather neatly, though tragically. Arthur dead, John dead, leaving Henry the undisputed heir to the throne. (Shakespeare did not write a play for Henry III. In fact, he skipped the next three monarchs: Henry III, Edward I, and Edward II. Next up is Edward III.)

It is easy to get caught up in the dozen or so august personalities named in the play, their divine mandates, and noble destinies, and forget the thousands of unnamed lives that were spent in settling such disputes. I am not criticizing the play – it is quite worthy of its author. I am simply reasserting something that may have been a subtle point of the Bard’s: the political, economic, familial, ecclesiastical, and egotistical plays for power in this period of Western Europe were indeed often – petty feuds with dreadful consequence.

Excerpts:

And thou, to be endeared to a king,

Made it no conscience to destroy a prince. ~ King John to Hubert

Heaven keep my soul, and England keep my bones! ~ dying Arthur

And as usual, a couple phrases original to Shakespeare that have become part of English vernacular:

To gild refined gold, to paint the lily (which is clearer than the vernacular to gild the lily – to praise something that does not need further praise)

Play fast and loose

I read this for the 2019 Year of Shakespeare Challenge.

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