Mojo, The Bard, & Me

 (Warning: Long post with political content. Reader beware!)

Whom their o’er-cloyed country vomits forth

-King Richard

King Richard the Third         Act V, Scene iii, Line 319

 

This is late in the play, and this is Richard’s speech to the troops before the Battle of Bosworth Fields. That is the battle where Richard has his famous my kingdom for a horse line. It’s also the battle where he dies and his forces lose.

 What I thought might be interesting today was to compare Richard’s speech before this battle to Henry V’s speech before the battle of Agincourt. Now keep in mind that Will is painting Richard as the bad guy (though in reality he was probably not quite the rat that Will makes him out to be) in this play and in Henry V he is painting Henry as a hero (and Henry is held in very high regard in English history).

 So let’s compare the two speeches. Here’s Richard, the bad guy, from a play that Will wrote early in his career.

 

K. Rich. His oration to his Army.

What shall I say more than I have inferr'd?
Remember whom you are to cope withal:
A sort of vagabonds, rascals, and run-aways,
A scum of Bretons and base lackey peasants,
Whom their o'er-cloyed country vomits forth
To desperate adventures and assur'd destruction.
You sleeping safe, they bring you to unrest;
You having lands, and bless'd with beauteous
wives,
They would restrain the one, distain the other.
And who doth lead them but a paltry fellow,
Long kept in Britaine at our mother's cost?
A milksop, one that never in his life
Felt so much cold as over shoes in snow?
Let's whip these stragglers o'er the sea again;
Lash hence these overweening rags of France,
These famish'd beggars, weary of their lives;
Who, but for dreaming on this fond exploit,
For want of means, poor rats, had hang'd them-
selves:
If we be conquer'd, let men conquer us,
And not these bastard Bretons; whom our
fathers
Have in their own land beaten, bobb'd, and
thump'd,
And, on record, left them the heirs of shame.
Shall these enjoy our lands? lie with our wives?
Ravish our daughters? [Drum afar off.
Hark! I hear their drum.
Fight, gentlemen of England! fight, bold yeomen!
Draw, archers, draw your arrows to the head!
Spur your proud horses hard, and ride in blood;
Amaze the welkin with your broken staves!

 

Now here’s Henry, the hero, from a play Will wrote a bit later in his career.

 

K. Hen. What's he that wishes so?
My cousin Westmorland? No, my fair cousin:
If we are mark'd to die, we are enow
To do our country loss; and if to live,
The fewer men, the greater share of honour.
God's will! I pray thee, wish not one man more.
By Jove, I am not covetous for gold,
Nor care I who doth feed upon my cost;
It yearns me not if men my garments wear;
Such outward things dwell not in my desires:
But if it be a sin to covet honour,
I am the most offending soul alive.
No, faith, my coz, wish not a man from England:
God's peace! I would not lose so great an
honour
As one man more, methinks, would share from
me,
For the best hope I have. O! do not wish one
more:
Rather proclaim it, Westmoreland, through my
host,
That he which hath no stomach to this fight,
Let him depart; his passport shall be made,
And crowns for convoy put into his purse:
We would not die in that man's company
That fears his fellowship to die with us.
This day is call'd the feast of Crispian:
He that outhves this day, and comes safe home,
Will stand a tip-toe when this day is nam'd,
And rouse him at the name of Crispian.
He that shall live this day, and see old age,
Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbours,
And say, 'To-morrow is Saint Crispian:'
Then will he strip his sleeve and shows his scars,
And say, 'These wounds I had on Crispin's day.'

Old men forget: yet all shall be forgot,
But he'll remember with advantages
What feats he did that day. Then shall our
names,
Familiar in his mouth as household words,
Harry the king, Bedford and Exeter,
Warwick and Talbot, Salisbury and Gloucester,
Be in their flowing cups freshly remembered.
This story shall the good man teach his son;
And Crispin Crispian shall ne'er go by,
From this day to the ending of the world,
But we in it shall be remembered;
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 accursed they were not
here,
And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any
speaks
That fought with us upon Saint Crispin's day.

  

I hope you can note the difference in tone.

Richard spends most of his time name-calling and extolling his men to protect the country from heirs of shame who would ravish our daughters; typical demagogue talk. Also note that Richard’s battle is taking place in England, the opposing force being led by an Englishman who just happens to have legitimate claims to the throne.

Henry V, on the other hand, spends most of his speech telling his guys what heroes they’re going to be, and that history will remember them (it did). And note that Henry’s battle takes place in France where the Brits will win and be the conquerors.

I know there’s a bit of reading here, but I think it’s worth it. Give it a shot.

I know, I think I said something about cooling it with the orange. But whenever I read about a leader being a name-caller and blaming troubles on the 'others', I can't help myself. Sorry.