Attached is a paper of mine on 2HenryIV that is currently in press at Ohio University Press as part of a two volume festschrift in honor of George Anastaplo (eds. William T. Braithwaite, Robert L. Stone, and John A. Murley); the theme of the festschrift is "The Practice of Theory," and it contains articles from the fields of philosophy, law, political science, and literature (in all of which Anastaplo has published). The festschrift is of course copyrighted and will have a December 1990 publication date. ABSTRACT In Henry IV, Part II, Shakespeare establishes a close structural relationship between Prince Hal and Prince John of Lancaster. The plot, imagery, and thematic motifs of the play create a functional ethic of personal and political prudence within which Henry V's rejection of Falstaff and John's betrayal of the rebels at Gaultree are commendable and akin. Although John and the rebels are of secondary importance to Hal and Falstaff, the play dramatically foreshadows the outcome of both plots. Several minor images in the play link Falstaff with the rebels and Hal with John, while the major images of disease, time, and unfulfilled expectations form larger structural patterns among the major characters. Henry IV, Falstaff, and the rebels are all old, guilty gluttons whose opportunistic appetites bring only sickness and death rather than fulfillment. Hal and John defeat the expectations of their elders, passively curb the voracity of their adversaries, and impose a new code of moral justice upon the ravished land. Dr. Stanley D. McKenzie 329 Beckwith Road West Henrietta, New York 14586 The Prudence and Kinship of Prince Hal and John of Lancaster in 2 Henry IV George Anastaplo continually explores the concept of "Prudence" throughout his writings.1 In his musings on literature, Anastaplo dismisses "dramatic necessities" in favor of inquiring "why a man of a certain character acted thus and so," and posing the ubiquitous Anastaplo question, "What is the right thing for a man to do in this situation."2 Anastaplo concludes that "in order to be able to choose correctly, one must be prudent. . . . Prudence tends to lead us to moderation, both personal and communal."3 Hence for Anastaplo, Odysseus prevails because "he is a prudent man able to restrain himself."4 For a volume of essays in honor of George Anastaplo on the theme of "The Practice of Theory," it seems appropriate to apply his concept of prudence to the characters in one of Shakespeare's most complex history plays, 2 Henry IV. Henry V's rejection of Falstaff remains the central critical subject of debate in this play. Is this rejection the proper fate of an unregenerate reprobate, or does it expose the new king as another Machiavellian Lancastrian placing policy above human feelings? A secondary but related problem concerns the manner in which Hal's younger brother, Prince John of Lancaster, defeats the rebels at Gaultree. Critical response has overwhelmingly condemned John, and the concern articulated by Dr. Johnson has not been adequately resolved to this day: "It cannot but raise some indignation to find this horrible violation of faith passed over thus slightly by the poet, without any note of censure or detestation."5 Despite Dr. Johnson's protestation, there is considerable evidence that an Elizabethan audience in 1598 would view both Hal's rejection of Falstaff and John's betrayal of the rebels as prudent actions to be approved. Shakespeare enhances such a response through the structure and imagery of 2 Henry IV, which associate Hal with John and create an ethic within which the actions of these Lancastrian brothers are prudent, commendable and intrinsically akin. Modern scholarship generally acknowledges the political necessity for the rejection of Falstaff, but there is no consensus as to how we should feel about Hal's method of effecting it. A. C. Bradley asserts that during the rejection speech the audience feels "a good deal of pain and some resentment,"6 while more recently Catherine M. Shaw writes, "Intellectual moral justification for the expulsion of Falstaff can be accepted as can the historical actuality, but the disquietude which greets the end of 2 Henry IV is not intellectual; it is emotional."7 During the last decade, much attention has been given to Hal's role-playing throughout the Henry IV plays, but again with sharp disagreement: does this play-acting prove Hal to be a hypocrite with no underlying sincerity nor ethical base? Or is Hal admirably rehearsing for the day in which he will be forced to accept the burdens and responsibilities of "formal majesty" (V.ii.133),8 a role he does not desire, but which he is duty-bound to accept?9 Whereas Hal's rejection of Falstaff is increasingly being justified by critics, albeit often reluctantly and even apologetically, his brother's actions at Gaultree continue to be roundly denounced. Bradley is more damning than Dr. Johnson, referring to the Gaultree victory as a "detestable fraud," and describing John as "the brave, determined, loyal, cold-blooded, pitiless, unscrupulous son of a usurper."10 E. M. W. Tillyard and Lily B. Campbell each provide some defense for John, but with the collapse of a single-minded Elizabethan world view has come nearly unanimous critical condemnation of John. These modern critics, however, have tended to ignore the fear of civil war ever-present throughout Elizabeth's reign. After the Northern Rebellion of 1569, a long "Homilie against Disobedience and Wylfull Rebellion" (1571) was read in every church throughout England, affirming that the sin of rebellion violates the Ten Commandments and commits all of the seven deadly sins: For he that nameth rebellion nameth not a singular or one only sin, as is theft robbery murder and such like, but he nameth the whole puddle and sink of all sins against God and man.11 Elizabeth's propaganda machinery continually stressed that subjects had no right to judge their monarch (undoubtedly to discourage those inclined to do just that); to rebel against a bad king, with the notable exception of Richard III, was as sinful as to rebel against a good king. The Elizabethans could view Henry IV as an evil man (albeit penitent) inasmuch as he acquired the crown through rebellion,12 but still as a good king in that he successfully crushed rebellions against him. God permitted the rebellions as punishment, but the rebels themselves were committing the mortal sin of disobedience to their king and deserved no mercy. That John's method of victory at Gaultree in 2 Henry IV was consistent with Elizabethan policy of the 1590s can be seen in Lodowick Lloyd's The Stratagems of Jerusalem (1602) which recounts numerous examples of treachery being used to achieve peace and asserts that "all stratagems, victories, & good counsell cometh from the Lord."13 Paul Jorgenson attributes the growing Elizabethan acceptance of deceit and treachery in dealing with rebels to the Irish wars. Faced with guerrillas who adeptly circumvented standard military efforts, the English for years had been resorting to treacherous policies, including the slaughter in 1580 of several hundred rebels who surrendered to Lord Grey at Smerwick.14 Although theoretically despising Machiavelli, the Elizabethans were increasingly aware that many of his tactics could strengthen the security of the realm.15 Elizabethan perceptions of the historical John of Lancaster must also be taken into account when analyzing the events at Gaultree; Shakespeare has specifically altered his source materials in making John, rather than Westmoreland, the perpetrator of the deceit. Critics have argued that this historical change, along with the antipathy between John and Falstaff, serves to portray John as a cold-blooded, political Lancastrian in contrast to his warm and generous brother Hal.16 This thesis is dubious, however, considering that John becomes the famous Duke of Bedford, whose reputation among the Elizabethans was nearly as great as his brother's. Shakespeare himself had previously portrayed Bedford in 3 Henry VI where at his death he is eulogized by Talbot and Burgundy as "valiant," "Courageous," "Undaunted spirit," and A brave soldier never couched lance, A gentler heart did never sway in court. (III.ii.134-135) On his deathbed, Henry V named Bedford protector of the realm for the infant Henry VI, and even after assuming the regency of France, Bedford remained instrumental in keeping peace at home between his brother Humphrey, Duke of Gloucester, and his uncle Henry Beaufort, Bishop of Winchester. Holinshed calls Bedford "a man both politike in peace, and hardie in warre, and yet no more hardie than mercifull when he had the victorie."17 It seems likely that Shakespeare made John responsible for the events at Gaultree not to contrast him with Hal, but to use the future Duke of Bedford's reputation as a positive reflection upon the method of victory; the brother's responsibility also serves to associate Hal more directly with these events which preserve the crown for him. Henry V's rejection of Falstaff and John's betrayal of the rebels at Gaultree would be seen as essentially similar by a London audience in 1598 inasmuch as each manifests the triumph of order over disruptive forces threatening the security of the kingdom. For the brothers to have acted differently would have constituted a shocking and dangerous display of irresponsibility by those with whom God had entrusted the welfare of the realm. This political prudence may still be emotionally unattractive, however, especially for a modern audience, if it is viewed as calculatedly Machiavellian and personally unprincipled. The brilliance of Shakespeare's achievement within 2 Henry IV is the manner by which he reinforces the cold lessons of political reality through the artistic devices available to the dramatist, especially imagery and thematice structuring. As the remainder of this paper will show, Shakespeare creates a functional ethos in the world of 2 Henry IV where voracious appetite and greedy expectations surfeit, while moderation triumphs in the course of time.18 Attuned to this ethos, Hal and John thrive and conform precisely to Anastaplo's definition of prudence as moderation and self-restraint which "may depend, ultimately, on a vital awareness of the nature of things."19 Turning first to Shakespeare's dramatic shaping of the play's literal plot, when the newly crowned Henry V stands between Falstaff and the Lord Chief Justice and is forced to make a final irrevocable choice, his commitment to justice and rejection of disorder contradicts the previously expressed expectations of every major character in the play.20 Shakespeare nevertheless has carefully prepared for Hal's rejection of Falstaff throughout 2 Henry IV, and those who empathize with Falstaff's expectations will find little encouragement within the text itself. The second scene of the play establishes the Lord Chief Justice and Falstaff as polar opposites; the Chief Justice does engage in battles of wit with Falstaff, but he also expresses his contempt with comments such as "the truth is, Sir John, you live in great infamy" (I.ii.138-139) and "Thou art a great fool" (II.i.195-196). Prince Hal also treats Falstaff in this play with open contempt. He says, "I do allow this wen to be as familiar with me as my dog" (II.ii.105-106), and claims that it is "profane" to spend time playing jokes on Falstaff (II.iv.368-369). Except for one episode, Hal and Falstaff do not appear together until the final rejection scene, and the feeling that they are boon companions, established in Part I, is lost in Part II. At court, Warwick foreshadows Falstaff's rejection when he assures Henry IV that The prince but studies his companions Like a strange tongue, wherein, to gain the language, 'Tis needful that the most immodest word Be looked upon and learned, which once attained, Your highness knows, comes to no further use But to be known and hated. So, like gross terms, The prince will in the perfectness of time Cast off his followers. . . . (IV.iv.68-75) Such a rationale seems dubious in today's addiction-conscious society, but it was commonplace in sixteenth century educational treatises. On the other hand, Henry IV's prediction of his son's reign (IV.v.119-137) provides a horrifying description of England's fate if Henry V should not indeed cast out the "gross terms" he has learned. Even the comic Gloucestershire scenes prepare for Falstaff's rejection. He traitorously misuses the king's press, receiving bribes from Moldy and Bullcalf, whom Shallow proclaims the best of the lot, to free them from impressment and taking in their place the decrepit Wart.21 Furthermore the relationship between Shallow and Falstaff parallels Falstaff's relationship with Hal; in each case one partner expects to use his fellow for his own advantage, while the other associates with the hanger-on solely for his own amusement. Falstaff thus unwittingly anticipates his own rejection when he says of Shallow, "Either wise bearing or ignorant carriage is caught, as men take diseases, one of another. Therefore let men take heed of their company" (V.i.78-80). Immediately after the final reconciliation between Hal and Henry IV, Act V opens in Gloucestershire with Falstaff asking to be excused to leave; Shallow responds, I will not excuse you. You shall not be excused. Excuses shall not be admitted. There is no excuse shall serve. You shall not be excused. (V.i.5-7) Falstaff is soon not to be excused in a less comic sense as well. In the final Gloucestershire scene, Falstaff destroys any possible remaining sympathy for him when he learns that Hal is king and greedily cries out, Let us take any man's horses; the laws of England are at my commandment. Blessed are they that have been my friends, and woe to my Lord Chief Justice! (V.iii.140-143) The new king, however, has already assured his brothers and the Chief Justice of his devotion to law and order. Henry V must still confirm his choice when confronted by both the Chief Justice and Falstaff simultaneously, but Shakespeare has foreshadowed Hal's decision throughout the play. Henry V nevertheless finds the rejection difficult to make, and he at first attempts to have the Chief Justice get rid of Falstaff for him: "My Lord Chief Justice, speak to that vain man" (V.v.44). Falstaff persists, however, and the new king must deal with him personally. Falstaff's fascinating character makes plausible Hal's wasting time with him. His wit seduces characters and audience alike, and Hostess Quickly, whom Falstaff constantly swindles, chokes up when he leaves for the wars, crying, "Well, fare thee well. I have known thee these twenty-nine years, come peascod-time, but an honester and truer-hearted man--well, fare thee well" (II.iv.389-391). Judgment must be passed, however, and an objective look at Falstaff leaves no choice but for the prudent and moderate man to reject him. Beginning with A. C. Bradley, the critics who claim that Shakespeare created such a genius of wit that he could not destroy him convincingly when the time came have themselves failed to distinguish between the genuinely witty Falstaff of Part I and the Falstaff in Part II whose wit is so often based on other people's miseries.22 Falstaff's entire environment has degenerated in Part II. In Part I Mistress Quickly apparently had an honest husband, well loved by the prince (Part I, III.iii.98), and ran a respectable tavern, but in Part II she is a widow (II.i.82) and seems to be operating a brothel. Doll Tearsheet and Pistol, new additions to the Eastcheap populace in Part II, are two of the grossest characters in any of Shakespeare's plays. Immediately before Falstaff's rejection, Hostess Quickly and Doll Tearsheet are hauled away to prison for having, along with Pistol, beaten a man to death (V.iv.16-17). Although humorous, the voracious excesses of Falstaff and his companions have now become deadly. When Henry V does reject Falstaff, Prince John comments, "I like this fair proceeding of the king's" (V.v.9) and then accurately predicts Henry V's invasion of France. Shakespeare's giving John the final words in the play (except for the "Epilogue [Spoken by a Dancer]") links John's moral approbation of Henry V with his own proceedings at Gaultree. Although dramatically John's betrayal of the rebels is of secondary importance to Henry V's rejection of Falstaff, the betrayal is likewise foreshadowed through advance warnings that the truce may not be all it seems. Mowbray, for one, is uneasy throughout the negotiations: There is a thing within my bosom tells me That no conditions of our peace can stand. (IV.i.181-182) Mowbray argues that the king must henceforth view everything they do with suspicion, and after both armies have presumably been dismissed, it is again Mowbray who suddenly feels ill while the others are drinking toasts. Prince John also provides a hint of things to come when he reproaches the Archbishop for acting unlike a man of God in "Turning the word to sword and life to death" (IV.ii.10); it is likewise equally unnatural for John, a soldier and prince, to put up his sword and settle a rebellion with words. The outward events of the play significantly take no notice of the moral issues involved in John's dissembling. Falstaff criticizes John's sobriety, but not his method of victory, and even the rebels go off to execution with minimal protest. Furthermore, no one in the royal family indicates that John's actions blemish Lancastrian honor. In Part I, both King Henry IV and Hal had high praise for John's performance at Shrewsbury (V.iv.15-20), and Part II provides no evidence that Hal changes his mind about John, either before or after Gaultree; likewise the dying king, who has consistently chastised Hal for perceived moral shortcomings, welcomes John back from Gaultree without qualification. Although John's betrayal of the rebels is not foreshadowed as extensively as Hal's rejection of Falstaff, the literal plot level of 2 Henry IV does prepare for both events and associates them with each other through John's approbation of his brother's action. Falstaff's defenders have argued that Shakespeare intends John's approval as a deprecation of Hal's character in that only someone as treacherous as John could approve of the new king's cold-hearted treatment of his former companion, but the symbolic or mythic elements and imagery patterns of the play also link Hal and John closely together and enhance the appropriateness of both men's actions. Falstaff's bulk enables him to embody several symbolic and mythic aspects, all requiring his rejection by the new king. His roles as the Vice figure, the unregenerate "Old Man," the "Martlemas" beef and the Lord of Misrule or scapegoat sacrificed to regenerate the wasteland have been so well established23 that when Justice Silence sings of "lusty lads" eating "flesh" at "Shrovetide" (V.iii.17-36) shortly before Falstaff's rejection, we may well recall that Shrovetide's feasting precedes the barren "winter" Lent leading to death and rebirth at Easter. Thus the model Christian king's "sacrifice" of the symbolic scapegoat of riot and waste promises not only a new spirit of self-restrained frugality and strict order, but also future glories for England. The psychoanalytical critics carry these symbolic aspects even further, claiming that Falstaff is a substitute father-figure for Hal and must, like the ritually slain kings of Frazer's The Golden Bough, be sacrificed before the land can regain its fertility under the rule of the young, virile son. Hal's real father-king, Henry IV, acquired his crown through the deposition and murder of Richard II, and "under the guilt-ridden, infirm, old king, England itself has become diseased."24 Hal manifests parricidal tendencies toward his father throughout both parts of Henry IV, according to these critics, but these impulses are restricted to a displacement "killing" of the substitute father. Henry IV's natural death expiates the murder of Richard, but to renew England's strength, Henry V must bury his youthful vanities with the body of his father and sacrifice the spirit of excess and misrule by banishing his companions of those earlier, carefree days. Falstaff's symbolic qualities encompass greedy appetite and disorder in general and are associated with the rebels in the play, even though these secondary political figures lack the abundance of specific mythic overtones which make Falstaff so rich a character. This association is made through imagery patterns which establish structural relationships among the major characters.25 In the rejection scene, Hal calls Falstaff "surfeit-swelled" (V.v.50) and tells him the grave doth gape For thee thrice wider than for other men. (V.v.53-54) The images echo the Archbishop's reference to "our surfeiting and wanton hours" (IV.i.55) and Northumberland's claim that "my limbs . . . Are thrice themselves" (I.i.143-145). Lord Bardolph says the rebel messenger from Shrewsbury "had stol'n / The horses he rode on" (I.i.57-58), while Falstaff cries, "Let us take any man's horses" (V.iii.140) upon learning that Hal is king, again linking him to the rebels. Both Falstaff and the rebels indulge in self-deception, entertaining hopes for which they have little basis and which ultimately fail. Falstaff continually deceives himself until the very end that Hal will still be his companion when king, while the rebels create false hopes in planning their campaign. Hastings acknowledges that our supplies live largely in the hope Of great Northumberland, (I.iii.12-13) and cautious Lord Bardolph asserts that they need to be certain of Northumberland's questionable support, since Conjecture, expectation, and surmise Of aids incertain should not be admitted. (I.iii.23-24) Yet after these self-acknowledged dangers, the rebels immoderately decide to proceed regardless of Northumberland's support and by the end of the scene are trusting their hopes entirely to circumstances. Hal and John are likewise linked through the imagery of the play as they reverse the surfeits of their adversaries and return things to normal. The rebellion is a flooding (IV.i.174) which John contains; when the "truce" is celebrated with drinks, the Archbishop gets high, "Believe me, I am passing light in spirit" (IV.ii.85), while John's drinking is highly restrained, according to the play's preeminent drinker (IV.iii.87-90). Hal also stems a flood of excessive sanguinity when he becomes king: The tide of blood in me Hath proudly flowed in vanity till now. Now doth it turn and ebb back to the sea, Where it shall mingle with the state of floods and flow henceforth in formal majesty. (V.ii.129-133) Hal and John also meet their obligations, in contrast to the debt-ridden Falstaff (literally) and the rebels (morally). Thinking his father has died, Hal says, Thy due from me Is tears and heavy sorrows of the blood, Which nature, love and filial tenderness Shall, O dear father, pay thee plenteously.26 (IV.v.36-39) The Archbishop accuses John of breaking faith, but the prince claims, I pawned thee none. I promised you redress of these same grievances Whereof you did complain, which, by mine honor, I will perform with a most Christian care. (IV.ii.113-116) John's punctiliousness contrasts with Northumberland's earlier argument to his wife that he must join the Archbishop's rebellion: my honor is at pawn, And, but my going, nothing can redeem it. (II.iii.7-8) Northumberland, however, once again fails to provide the support upon which the rebels are counting. Several minor thematic images thus link Hal and John together, as well as Falstaff with the rebels. Disease, time, and unfulfilled expectations are the dominant (and most frequently analyzed27) images of 2 Henry IV, however, and these motifs create even larger structural relationships among the characters, in which the king is also grouped with Falstaff and the rebels in contrast to Hal and John. Beginning with disease, Henry IV, unlike the fighting king of Part I, is ill throughout Part II and finally dies. Whereas the bad news of Shrewsbury cures the crafty-sick Northumberland (I.i.137-139), the good news of Gaultree hastens the king's death (IV.iv.102-111). Falstaff is preoccupied with everyone's diseases and is thoroughly sick himself, according to the analysis of his urine (I.ii.3-5); he even boasts, "I will turn diseases to commodity" (I.ii.251). Other characters in the play are likewise diseased. Falstaff insinuates that Doll Tearsheet and Hostess Quickly have syphilis, while of the prospective recruits at Gloucestershire, the two best are "Moldy" and Bullcalf, who claims he has been plagued with a "whoreson cold" through Henry IV's entire reign (III.ii.183-187). The Archbishop, leader of the rebels, sums it all up: We are all diseased, And with our surfeiting and wanton hours, Have brought ourselves into a burning fever, And we must bleed for it. Of which disease Our late king, Richard, being infected, died. (IV.i.54-58) This all-encompassing disease afflicts not only the people, but also the realm itself. The Archbishop speaks of a "bleeding land" (I.i.207), and even the king admits his land is diseased: Then you perceive the body of our kingdom How foul it is, what rank diseases grow, And with what danger, near the heart of it. (III.i.38-40) All of England bears responsiblity for the murder of Richard II through the popular support given Bolingbroke; now the sickness in the land is exasperated by new rebellions led by the same guilty men who helped Henry IV acquire his crown in the first place. Only Hal and John, too young to have participated in Richard's deposition, are healthy and free from the disease that afflicts England. England's disease was caused by events which occurred in the past, but still affect the present times. Mowbray claims they all feel the bruises of the days before And suffer the condition of these times, (IV.i.98-99) and the rebels constantly use time or the "times" as an excuse for their actions. The Archbishop tells Westmoreland, We see which way the stream of time doth run, And are enforced from our most quiet there By the rough torrent of occasion. (IV.i.70-72) But Westmoreland relies upon the identical rationale when he responds to the Archbishop's claim that the times make them rebel: Construe the times to their necessities. And you shall say indeed, it is the time, And not the king, that doth you injuries. (IV.i.102-104) Warwick also claims the "Necessary form" of "the hatch and brood of time" enabled Richard II to prophesy correctly that Northumberland would revolt against Henry IV (III.i.80-92), and even the king wishes he could read the book of fate, And see the revolution of the times . . . (III.i.45-46) All these men, rebels and loyalists alike, are so caught up in capitalizing upon the present moment to further their worldly ambitions and have such a highly developed consciousness of time's power over them that they become indeed "time's subjects," as Hastings claims (I.iii.110). Hal and John, however, do not subject their destinies to "the rough torrent of occasion" and never blame the times for their actions. Being young, they are scarcely concerned with time, and each makes only two direct references to it in Part II. Hal, regretting his youthful imprudence, tells Poins, "Thus we play the fools with the time (II.ii.141), and when he learns that his father has been preparing for war while he has been playing tricks on Falstaff, he cries, By heaven, Poins, I feel me much to blame, so idly to profane the precious time. (II.iv.368-369) Attuned to the larger patterns of time which in due course will bring him to the crown, Hal views the present moment as a commodity for prudent use, but not a binding force. Similarly, John does not attempt to construe the necessities of the moment into a defense for his deeds and indeed claims that the rebels are much too shallow, to sound the bottom of the after-times. (IV.ii.50-51) John's only other use of the word comes when he tells Falstaff after Gaultree, These tardy tricks of yours will, on my life, One time or other break some gallows' back. (IV.iii.28-29) Not the vagrancies of time, John says, but Falstaff's own actions will destroy him. Falstaff is time's subject, however, in the sense that time brings old age and death. Throughout Part II Falstaff tries to embody the eternal spirit of youth, but he cannot escape the fact that he has grown old and infirm, ever closer to paying the debt to God he managed to postpone at Shrewsbury. Like Henry IV and the rebels, Falstaff too is a diseased prisoner of his own past. The king and the rebels remember Richard II, but Falstaff and Shallow recall the even earlier era when John of Gaunt ruled England during the declining years of Edward III; Falstaff closes the scene by saying, "Let time shape, and there an end" (III.ii.336-337). The time imagery of 2 Henry IV thus separates the major characters into two groups. Henry IV, the Archbishop, Northumberland, the other rebels, and Falstaff, the would-be exploiters of time, are instead all time's subjects, old "fathers" (the Archbishop is a "reverend father") whose voracious appetites and expectations have have disrupted the established order.28 Henry IV robbed Richard of his crown with the help of the rebels who now attempt to rob it from him, while Falstaff robs the king's "crowns" or money. These robberies create unpaid debts, and even though Henry IV claims he "purchased" the crown (IV.v.199), he can pay for it only with his life. Purchasing is associated with death throughout the play, as when Shallow keeps asking the purchase price of animals while reminiscing about his youthful companions who have now grown old and died (III.ii.40-54). Moldy and Bullcalf purchase their lives, but Feeble says, "We owe God a death" (III.ii.240), punning on "debt," and echoing Hal's words to Falstaff before Shrewsbury in Part I, "Why, thou owest God a death" (V.i.126). Despite Falstaff's incessant borrowing on even that debt, in Part II the time for payment comes due, and all the old robbers are required to make a final reckoning. Hal and John, however, the healthy young sons from a new generation, are free from the guilty debts of the past that haunt the diseased old men of England. They do not blame the times, but accept the state of affairs created by their elders; they attune themselves to the natural order of their world, assume their proper duties and responsibilities, and set out to shape a new future. The final significant thematic motif connecting Henry IV, Falstaff, and the rebels is unfulfilled expectations. The king expects to expiate his murder of Richard II through a journey to Jerusalem, where it was prophesied to him he would die; instead he dies at home in a room called Jerusalem. He also expects his son to institute a reign of riot and says that Hal's premature taking of the crown "hast sealed up my expectation" (IV.v.103), but Henry V becomes "the mirror of all Christian kings" (Henry V, II.pro.6). The rebels expect support from Northumberland which they do not receive, and the Archbishop expects to have God's help, only to hear John credit his own victory to God. Mowbray does not think the peace can last, while his fellow rebels believe that the king will not chastise them after the truce; the peace does last, however, and John executes all the rebel leaders. Falstaff expects to be the boon companion of Henry V, but he is not to command the laws of England. As with the disease imagery, unfulfilled expectations permeate 2 Henry IV at every level, beginning with Rumor who creates false expectations only to destroy them.29 Hostess Quickly expects not only to get paid by Falstaff, but even to marry him; Justice Shallow thinks he will use Falstaff for his own gain; after Henry IV dies, the Chief Justice expects punishment from Henry V, Warwick now thinks Hal will be a riotous king, and even Clarence dreads having to speak well of Falstaff, but all three are wrong; Hal realizes that no one expects him to weep over his father, but he later does, and the crown that seems to be the "best of gold" turns out to be the "worst of gold" (IV.v.160). The very language of the play creates unfulfilled expectations through the use of oxymora ("wrathful dove or most magnanimous mouse"); images such as Hal's simile that the crown is Like a rich armor worn in heat of day, That scald'st with safety; (IV.v.29-30) and even in set poetic passages such as the king's apostrophe to sleep (III.i.9-31) which comes to the ship-boy in a deafening storm, but is denied to a king despite all his material comforts. This speech is parodied earlier by Falstaff as he tells Doll Tearsheet and Mistress Quickly how men of merit are sought after. The undeserver may sleep when the man of action is called on, (II.iv.382-84) providing yet another linkage between the king and fat knight.30 The theme of unfulfilled expectations is often developed through eating imagery, as in Henry IV's lament that fortune either gives a stomach and no food-- Such are the poor, in health--or else a feast And takes away the stomach--such are the rich That have abundance and enjoy it not. (IV.iv.105-108) Throughout the play, excessive "eating" leads not to contented satiation, but to surfeits and disease. The Epilogue promises more of Falstaff, "If you be not too much cloyed with fat meat" (Epi.26-27), and even the prostitutes' syphilis is associated with gluttony:: Falstaff: You make fat rascals, Mistress Doll. Doll: I make them? Gluttony and diseases make, I make them not. Falstaff: If the cook help to make the gluttony, you help to make the diseases, Doll. We catch of you. (II.iv.41-45) The images of voracious appetite, surfeits, disease, death, time, and unfulfilled expectations are all brought together in an early speech by the Archbishop which sets the tone for the entire play: The commonwealth is sick of their own choice; Their overgreedy love hath surfeited. An habitation giddy and unsure Hath he that buildeth on the vulgar heart. O thou fond many, with what loud applause didst thou beat heaven with blessing Bolingbroke, Before he was what thou wouldst have him be! And being how trimmed in thine own desires, Thou, beastly feeder, art so full of him That thou provok'st thyself to cast him up. So, so, thou common dog, didst thou disgorge Thy glutton bosom of the royal Richard; And now thou wouldst eat thy dead vomit up, And howl'st to find it. What trust is in these times? (I.iii.87-100) In 2 Henry IV, greedy expectations are not fulfilled as desired, but instead surfeit. Time is the ultimate betrayer, imprisoning men through past events and eventually defeating all desires through old age, disease, and death. Surfeit is the result of gluttony, the opposite of prudent moderation and self-restraint.31 Falstaff literally gorges himself with food and drink and tries to ingest everything else, including the very laws of England; Henry V calls the "surfeit-swelled" knight "The tutor and the feeder of my riots" (V.v.50, 62). Henry IV hungered for Richard II's crown and dies repenting for the manner by which he became king. Northumberland and the other rebels who originally helped Henry now try to take the crown for themselves and are executed for their efforts. All of these men create expectations based upon lawlessly and gluttonously grabbing for things not belonging to them. Their expectations either remain unfulfilled or they surfeit on what they have imprudently ingested, become sick and die. England was jarred out of its naturally fertile state by Richard's misrule and his subsequent deposition and murder, but the men responsible continue trying to satiate their own opportunistic appetites and blame the times instead of their gluttony for the sickness they have caused. Those characters who do not grab, but instead prudently accept what life brings to them, live on successfully at the end of the play. John, with typical restraint, foregoes a battlefield resolution and instead calmly lets the rebels fall into his clever trap, crediting God for the restoration of the peace. The Chief Justice also accepts his anticipated fate without making elaborate plans for his own safety. He does not expect Henry V to love him, but he is prepared "To welcome the condition of the time" (V.ii.11); this passive acceptance of destiny without regard to personal benefit leads to an affirmative reversal of his expectations as he is retained in his position and honored by the new king. The most prudent non-grabber, of course, is Hal, whose only expectation is that he will be king. When he tries to fulfill this expectation himself, however, taking the crown before it belongs to him, he has to give it back. The last lesson Hal learns before becoming king is self-restraint and not to grab, but to wait prudently for things to descend to him in rightful order. When Henry IV awakes to find that Hal has taken his crown, he cries out, "See, sons, what things you are!" (IV.v.64), claiming that fathers who care for their sons are unnaturally "murdered for our pains" (IV.v.77). When Hal again enters the room, the dying king continues: Dost thou so hunger for mine empty chair That thou wilt needs invest thee with my honors Before thy hour be ripe? . . . Thy life did manifest thou lov'dst me not, And thou wilt have me die assured of it. Thou hid'st a thousand daggers in thy thoughts, Which thou has whetted on thy stony heart, To stab at half an hour of my life. (IV.v.94-108) Although the king is wrong in his assessment of Hal's parricidal motives, in this play the old "fathers"--secular, spiritual and sensual alike--give way to the young sons. Hal and John both defeat the expectations of the old generation as they impose new codes of strict moral justice upon the forces of disorder. Henry IV, Falstaff, Northumberland, and the Archbishop are time's subjects, the products of their pasts, while Hal and John represent the future and are not bound by either the deeds or expectations of the fathers. Sons, however, must build the future upon an inheritance from the past; they must not grab for the possessions of the fathers until they naturally descend in proper order. Henry IV's crown in due course comes to Hal, while the Chief Justice embodies the heritage of the deceased king. The Chief Justice is old, diseased, and time's subject; he does not grab, however, and so lives on temporarily bridging the past and the new era of Henry V, who tells him, "You shall be as a father to my youth" (V.ii.118). The plot, characterizations, mythic and symbolic elements, themes, and imagery of 2 Henry IV all work together to create a functional ethic of moderation and self-restraint in which gluttony surfeits, defeating the expectations of the glutton. Those who are attuned to this premise of personal and political prudence prosper, while those who defy it are destroyed.32 The last step in the education of Prince Hal is learning not to be a glutton; he voices this lesson when, as the newly crowned king, he speaks to Falstaff: I know thee not, old man. Fall to thy prayers. How ill white hairs becomes a fool and jester! I have long dreamt of such a kind of man, So surfeit-swelled, so old, and so profane, But, being awaked, I do despise my dream. Make less thy body hence, and more thy grace. Leave gormandizing. (V.v.47-53) Although Saturn devoured his own children, Falstaff is not permitted to ingest his "Jove."33 To save the old glutton from temptation, Henry V provides him with a "competence of life" (V.v.66), and if Falstaff will be content with what he receives without grabbing for more, he will be given advancement. Henry V's rejection of Falstaff is akin to John's betrayal of the rebels at Gaultree inasmuch as both curb voracious appetites by exercising moderation and self-restraint. The two Lancastrian brothers thematically are of similar character and possess Anastaplo's "vital awareness of the nature of things" in the world that Shakespeare has created for them. They recognize the death of the old order of things and accept the Machiavellian reality of the new order, but at the same time give legitimacy to this new order by immersing themselves in an ethos of natural succession. Indeed, Hal and John essentially affirm a comic vision of generational renewal as opposed to the gluttonous tragic vision of their forefathers. The functional ethic operating through the imagery and structure of 2 Henry IV impels us to accept and to approve the prudence of both Hal's and John's actions and to recognize their inherent thematic kinship. Rochester Institute of Technology NOTES 1See especially Anastaplo's "American Constitutionalism and the Virtue of Prudence: Philadelphia, Paris, Washington, Gettysburg," in Abraham Lincoln, the Gettysburg Address, and American Constitutionalism, ed. Leo Paul S. de Alvarez (Irving, Texas: Univ. of Dallas Press, 1976), pp. 77-170. 2Anastaplo, The Artist as Thinker: From Shakespeare to Joyce (Chicago: Swallow Press, 1983), p. 16. 3The Artist as Thinker, p. 16. 4The Artist as Thinker, p. 6. 5Johnson on Shakespeare, ed. Walter Raleigh (London: Oxford Univ., 1959), p. 121. 6"The Rejection of Falstaff," Oxford Lectures on Poetry (London: Macmillan, 1909), p. 251. 7"The Tragic Substructure of the 'Henry IV' Plays," Shakespeare Survey, 38 (1985), 65. 8All references to Shakespeare's plays are from The Complete Signet Classic Shakespeare, ed. Sylvan Barnet et. al. (New York: Harcourt Brace Jovanovich, 1972). 9See John W. Blanpied, Time and the Artist in Shakespeare's English Histories (Newark: Univ. of Delaware Press, 1983); Derick R. C. Marsh, "Hal and Hamlet: the Loneliness of Integrity," in Jonson and Shakespeare, ed. Ian Donaldson (Atlantic Highlands, N.J.: Humanities Press, 1983), pp. 18-33; John Alvis, "The Career of Henry Monmouth," in Shakespeare as Political Thinker, eds. John Alvis and Thomas G. West (Durham, N. C.: Carolina Academic Press, 1981), pp. 95-125; Harold Toliver, "Workable Fictions in the Henry IV Plays," University of Toronto Quarterly, 53 (1983), 53-71. 10Bradley, p. 256. 11Cited by E. M. W. Tillyard, Shakespeare's History Plays (London: Chatto & Windus, 1959), p. 68. Both Tillyard and Lily B. Campbell, Shakespeare's "Histories:" Mirrors of Elizabethan Policy (San Marino, Cal.: Huntington Library, 1958), pp. 216-217, discuss this homily against rebellion. Campbell believes that Shakespeare's Henry IV plays specifically portray the 1569 Northern Rebellion, and she is one of the few critics to acknowledge that John's "peace-making . . . would, I think, have seemed quite orthodox to the Elizabethan audience" (p. 226). More recently, in an attempt to counter the current critical fad of Tillyard-bashing, M. M. Reese, "'Tis My Picture; Refuse It Not," Shakespeare Quarterly, 36 (1985), 254-56, writes, "The contemporary [Elizabethan] conception of history expected it to be didactic to teach immediate lessons. In the 1590s, under an aging and progressively erratic monarch, its duty was to emphasize the perils of disunity and secession" (pp. 255-6). 12In 2 Henry IV the dying king confesses to his heir "By what bypaths and indirect crooked ways" (IV.v.184) he acquired the crown. 13Sig. A2v; cited by Paul A. Jorgenson, "The 'Dastardly Treachery' of Prince John of Lancaster," PMLA 76 (1961), p. 490. Jorgenson cites several other sources from this period which affirm the same concept. 14The six hundred men slain at Smerwick were Spanish and Italian mercenaries sent by the Pope to aid the Irish rebels. Presumably Lord Grey never promised life as a condition of the surrender, and Queen Elizabeth was upset only at Grey's sparing some of the officers for ransom. This episode, however, was sensitive enough in 1598 that Spenser's spirited defense of Lord Grey in A View of the Present State of Ireland may have caused the difficulties encountered in getting the work published. Although registered with the Stationers on April 14, 1598, the work was not to be printed without further authority, and was not finally published until 1633 at Dublin. See Alexander C. Judson, The Life of Edmund Spenser (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins, 1966), pp. 89-92, 185-187. 15See Coriolanus, written ten years after 2 Henry IV, where Volumnia urges her son to pretend to humble himself before the plebeians: I have heard you say, Honor and policy, like unsevered friends, I' th' war do grow together. . . . If it be honor in your wars to seem The same you are not, which for your best ends You adopt your policy, how is it less or worse That it shall hold companionship in peace With honor as in war. . . . Now, this no more dishonors you at all Than to take in a town with gentle words. Which else would put you to your fortune and The hazard of much blood. I would dissemble with my nature, where My fortunes and my friends at stake required I should do so in honor. (III.ii.41-64) See McKenzie, "'Unshout the noise that banish'd Martius': Structural Paradox and Dissembling in Coriolanus," Shakespeare Studies 18 (1986), 189-204. 16E.g. George J. Becker, Shakespeare's Histories (New York: Frederick Unger Pub., 1977), states that "the cold-blooded calculation of Prince John by contrast adds to Hal's stature" (p. 53). 17Raphael Holinshed, Chronicles of England, Scotland, and Ireland (London, 1808), III, 184. Holinshed cites an impressive tribute to Bedford's valiancy by Louis XI, the son of the Dauphin (Charles VII) who had been Bedford's constant adversary. Tillyard claims that the Elizabethans believed that one source of the problems during Henry VI's reign was "the arrogance of the Duke of Bedford" which offended Burgundy, England's ally (Shakespeare's History Plays, p. 60). Bedford married Burgundy's sister, which cemented the alliance between the Lancastrian kings and the French duke until the lady's death in 1432. Holinshed recounts that the two dukes were then estranged by "flattering taletellers," and an attempted reconciliation failed when neither would travel to the other's lodging: "Thus by the proud disdaine and enuious discord of these two high stomached princes, Bedford not minding to haue anie peere, and Burgognie not willing to abide anie superior, shortlie after England much lost . . ." (Holinshed, III, 181). Unlike Tillyard, I do not believe this single episode stained Bedford's reputation among the Elizabethans. 18John Danby, Shakespeare's Doctrine of Nature (London: Faber and Faber, 1949), pp. 95ff., distinguishes between "Appetite" and "Authority" in 2 Henry IV. Traversi, Richard II to Henry V, sees the distinction being between those who act on passionate emotions and those who have the detached self-control of Hal and John, but which contains a certain moral loss and inhumanness. Holland, "Introduction," sees craving appetite set in opposition to a stoical acceptance of destiny. 19Anastaplo, "American Constitutionalism and the Virtue of Prudence," p. 281. 20Sherman H. Hawkins, "Virtue and Kingship in Shakespeare's Henry IV," English Literary Renaissance 5 (1975), 313-343, provides a detailed review of 16th Century treatises on the ideal education of a prince being in the cardinal virtues of justice, valor or fortitude, prudence, and temperance. Hawkins argues that Hal learns primarily temperance and valor in Part I and justice and prudence in Part II. 21J. Dover Wilson, The Fortunes of Falstaff (New York: Macmillan, 1944), pp. 84-85, points out that this episode echoes Part I where Falstaff first recruited 150 men of means, who bought their release, then enlisted another 150 wretched "cankers" to fill the places. Furthermore, he sent his troops into the thick of the battle at Shrewsbury so that all but three were killed, and he could pocket the victims' belongings and pay. 22Derek Traversi, Shakespeare: From Richard II to Henry V (Stanford, Cal.: Stanford Univ., 1957), pp. 118-133, effectively demonstrates the distinction between the Falstaff of Part I and Part II. See also Harry Levin, "Falstaff's Encore," Shakespeare Quarterly, 32 (1981), 5-17, and J. McLaverty, "No Abuse: The Prince and Falstaff in the Tavern Scenes of Henry IV," Shakespeare Survey, 34 (1981), 105-110. 23For studies of Falstaff as Vice, see Bernard Spivack, Shakespeare and the Allegory of Evil (New York: Columbia Univ., 1958), pp. 87-91, 203-204, and Walter Kaiser, Praisers of Folly: Erasmus, Rabelais, Shakespeare (Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard Univ., 1963), pp. 195-208; Kaiser provides a list of other critical analyses of Falstaff as a Vice (p. 197n). Falstaff as the "Old Man" in Paul's Epistle to the Ephesians, who must be cast off for renewal of spirit, is discussed by D. J. Palmer, "Casting off the Old Man: History and St. Paul in Henry IV," Critical Quarterly, 12 (1970), 265-83, and by Robin Headlam Wells and Alison Birkinshaw, "Falstaff, Prince Hal and the New Song," Shakespeare Studies, 18 (1986), 103-113. 24Philip Williams, "The Birth and Death of Falstaff Reconsidered," Shakespeare Quarterly, 8 (1957), p. 363; Williams provides one of the most convincing psychoanalytical analyses of this play. 25Many of the following points were explored in an undergraduate thesis I wrote under the direction of Norman N. Holland, Jr. at M.I.T. Professor Holland indicates an indebtedness to that original paper for several of the ideas he develops in his "Introduction" to 2 Henry IV in The Complete Signet Classic Shakespeare, pp. 678-685, and I take pleasure in acknowledging my indebtedness to him as teacher and scholar. 26In Hal's initial soliloquy in Part I, he speaks of the day when he will "pay the debt I never promised, . . . Redeeming time when men think least I will" (I.ii.206-214). Throughout Part I Hal takes upon himself other people's obligations, including Falstaff's "debts," and makes them good when his mettle proves current, not counterfeit, at Shrewsbury. 27The images of time, disease, and/or unfulfilled expectations in 2 Henry IV have been analyzed by Clifford Leech, "The Unity of 2 Henry IV," Shakespeare Survey, 6 (1953), 16-24; Traversi, Richard II to Henry V, pp. 108-165; L. C. Knights, Some Shakespearean Themes (London: Chatto & Windus, 1959), pp. 45-64; R. J. Dorius, "A Little More than a Little," Shakespeare Quarterly, 11 (1960), 13-26; M. M. Reese, The Cease of Majesty: A Study of Shakespeare's History Plays (London: Edward Arnold, 1961), pp. 116-118, 286-292; Kaiser, Praisers of Folly, pp. 238-251; Holland, "Introduction," pp. 678-684; Edgar T. Schell, "Prince Hal's Second 'Reformation,'" Shakespeare Quarterly, 21 (1970), 11-16; Becker, Shakespeare's Histories, pp. 51-65; Levin, "Falstaff's Encore," pp. xx-xx; and Blanpied, Time and the Artist, pp. 179-199. 28Dain A. Trafton, "Shakespeare's Henry IV," Shakespeare as Political Thinker, eds. John Alvis and Thomas G. West (Durham, N. C.: Carolina Academic Press, 1981), pp. 83-94, analyzes Henry IV's view of "necessity" from Richard II through II Henry IV and argues that under Henry's reign the old men of England, including Falstaff, claim to be bound by the necessity of the times, but use this to justify their gluttonous desires and ambitions, hence contaminating the entire realm. 29Richard Abrams, "Rumor's Reign in 2 Henry IV: The Scope of Personification," English Literary Renaissance, 16 (1986), 467-495. Abrams finds a close verbal relationship between Falstaff and the Archbishop: "As Falstaff's bellyful of tongues parodically subsumes the Archbishop's language gifts and the people's many-headed subversiveness, and as he re-established the spirit of Eastcheap riot in the peaceful Gloucestershire country side, so all the dissident elements of 'unquiet' or rebellion are gathered under one head and jointly dispatched" (p. 492). 30Cited by Stephen Greenblatt, "Invisible bullets: Renaissance authority and its subversion, Henry IV and Henry V," in Political Shakespeare: New Essays in Cultural Materialism, eds. Jonathan Dollimore and Alan Sinfield (Manchester: Manchester Univ. Press, 1985), pp. 40-41. Greenblatt argues that the "structure of things [in 2 Henry IV is called by] the twinned names of time and necessity" (p. 35). 31Dorius, "A Little More than a Little," argues that "what seems to set off the values of [Shakespeare's history plays] most markedly from those of the tragedies is the importance given by the histories to the virtues of prudence and economy;" Dorius defines the opposites of prudence and economy as "carelessness, excess, waste, and disease" (p. 13). 32Greenblatt argues that "Shakespeare does not shrink from any of the felt nastiness implicit in this sorting out of the right people and the wrong people; . . . the founding of the modern State, like the founding of the modern prince, is shown to be based upon acts of calculation, intimidation, and deceit. And the demonstration of these acts is rendered an entertainment for which an audience, subject to just this State, will pay money and applaud" ("Invisible bullets," p. 39). 33Holland points out that "in the coronation scene, Falstaff calls out, 'My King! My Jove!' (thus identifying himself with Saturn, the Titan who devoured his own children)" ("Introduction," p. 681). Earlier in the play, when Hal puts on a tavern drawer's leather apron to spy on Falstaff and Doll, whom he refers to as "Saturn and Venus" (II.iv.269), the prince compares himself to Jove taking the form of a bull (II.ii.173). Jove deposed his father-king Saturn as Hal now banishes his father-substitute Falstaff.