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p For our first meeting with Shakespeare
we wished to choose a work unencumbered with theatrical cliches, a work free from the deadweight of familiar, traditional styles of performance. Henry IV seemed to satisfy these requirements. Moreover, I was attracted to this chronicle by the tremendous wealth of ideas it contains. The paradoxical friendship between Falstaff and Prince Harry, the future King Henry V, the triumph of the Renaissance spirit in the atmosphere of a Medieval power struggle, with all its sinister ambition and petty strife leading to a fierce war-these ideas and their implications had long since fired my imagination and I longed to attempt their scenic embodiment.

p In the scene at the “Boar’s Head” Tavern where Falstaff and the Prince act a scene at court, Falstaff in the role of the Prince addresses Prince Harry as Henry IV: ”. . . banish not him (Falstaff) thy Harry’s company; banish plump Jack, and banish all the world.” For me these prophetic words were the key to the main idea of the play. Prince Harry has earned a permanent place in literature thanks to his friendship with Falstaff. After turning his back on Falstaff he has a place in history as King Henry V, but ceases to be as human being, as a moral character that is an artistic masterpiece. The Prince reformed 284 and gained power but lost his real humanity. His human essence was poisoned by ambition. The Prince’s thirst for power put an end to the revels, to natural joie de vivre.

p True humanity in the play is represented by Falstaff, the plump, cowardly drunkard, the blasphemous liar and whoremonger. In this Shakespeare achieved something without parallel in world literature. The ideal of genuine humanity is embodied in the thoughts and deeds of this holder of all vices. Falstaff rejects the concept of honour because he is being called upon to sacrifice his life in the name of formal honour, to give his life for the king in a war brought about by onegroup of ambitious men putting their forces against another group of ambitious men in a ferocious power struggle. The war has nothing at all to do with the interests of the common people and is cruel and shattering in its senselessness, for whatever its outcome the common people will be losers. In this sense Falstaff is undoubtedly Shakespeare’s most truly “popular” hero, an epitome of the author’s sympathy with the common folk. His revelry and debauch, his departure from the established code of behaviour, is the only possible form of protest against medieval dogma. Falstaff is an embryo of the Renaissance in the Middle Agesdissatisfaction with the present and impatient longing for the future. Falstaff regards fellowship as something that knows no bounds of clan or kinship loyalties, as wild, tempestuous, inebriating, full of fancy and invention, generous talent and poetry. He is against all mental blinkers, and rejects the old, effete concepts for the God of freedom and natural, unconstrained behaviour, free expression of the human spirit. Falstaff sees Prince Harry above all as a man who, like himself, rejects the conventions of court life. Falstaff’s tragedy is that he fails to make this Prince a Man with a capital M. He had the misfortune to love him. When the Prince spurned him, he was tearing out his heart and trampling it underfoot, yet at the same time he was tearing out his own heart, robbing himself of the most important thing he had.

p Prince Harry leads a double life, as it were, from the very beginning of the play. At first we thought of deferring the monologue that begins “I know you all. . .” until somewhat later in the play in order to conceal for the time being his potential betrayal of Falstaff and not have all the cards on the table at once, so to speak. But we soon realised that Shakespeare, genius that he was, had his good reasons for having these lines in the very first scene in which the Prince appears. Such is the boldness of genius, creating a dialectical character, a character who lives in several dimensions simultaneously. Consummate artists of the stature of Shakespeare, Tolstoi and Dostoyevsky are able to get away with creating a premonition of the end, for their characters do not need suspense, a thread of intrigue in the plot. They can in- 285 timate the end right from the start and still carry us along with them imperiously and boldly, gripping us with unexpected manifestations of character on the way.

p One theme of the play then is the fellowship between the Prince and Falstaff. Another theme is King Henry V, the conspirators, and the war. So we have a contrast between the Middle Ages and the Renaissance germinating within it, bursting it open, as it were. Prince Harry is the connecting link between these two themes. Achieving power, he deprives himself of freedom. The King and Falstaff are incompatible.

p In what key should this chronicle be played? The most important factor is the nature of communication with the audience which dictates the solution in the production of any classic play. Here we chose to act according to the alienation effect principle-the actors showing the audience Falstaff, Harry and Hotspur. We act in the style of itinerant players such as those that appear in Hamlet, a troupe that travels around from one castle or palace to another, giving performances on a makeshift stage. In other words, the typical fairground farce of the Middle Ages. Such is the principle underlying the mise-en-scene. But the most important thing is to express this through the actors in a natural, organic manner. It is a question of overcoming the tendencies to stifle the live nature of the theatre which, in the pursuit of other ends, began with the Meiningen Players in the last century. We are all brought up in the spirit of the new psychological theatre. With Shakespeare this must be dismissed in favour of another kind of theatre, new to us. And having found it, we must retain it as the core while acting according to the laws of psychological theatre. In this connection Vakhtangov made an extremely important discovery when he insisted on the difference between play-acting and theatricality. Stanislavsky recognised a rational kernel in the theatrical, sensing that a dialectical combination of various trends would be possible. It is impossible to perform Shakespeare without theatricality in the best sense of the word.

p Henry IV is neither a tragedy nor a comedy, but a history, a chronicle, and it is essential to bear this simple fact in mind. The events presented are real historical events. Falstaff is a fictional character, but he too can be regarded as having his real-life prototype. We have tried to give special emphasis to the historical events by separating them from the “fairground farce”, while ensuring that the two are organically combined, as they needs must be, on the same stage.

p The musical solution was also devised in accordance with the “ fairground farce” principle underlying the production. The stage directions in Shakespearean plays contain ample reference to drums and alarums. 286 In our production there would be only drums and trumpets. The drums maintain the rhythm of the scene, while the trumpets carry the theme. The trumpets sound between scenes, the drums during the action. I must confess I was greatly influenced by my impressions of the Japanese Kabuki Theatre, and I felt that this musical device would be most appropriate here.

p The mise-en-scene was based on the principles of the “fairground farce”. The theatre with the “proscenium barrier” is diametrically opposed to the nature of the Shakespearean theatre. We tried to overcome the “barrier” by throwing an apron stage over the orchestra pit projecting into the auditorium, and having the backdrop where the house tabs would normally be. Thus, the audience is watching the play from three sides. An enormous crown hangs above the apton-a symbol of ambition, and at the same time serving as a light source-and there is a lift in the centre to facilitate scene changes.

p The theme of Act One of our production is Life and the theme of Act Two-Death. Each of these themes has its climax. In Act One this is the scene in the “Boar’s Head” Tavern, and in Act Two it is the end of the war with a mound of corpses, among which Falstaff lies pretending to be dead. I intended to make this mound of corpses as realistic as possible, in order to destroy completely the “fine spectacle” aspect of war and battle, to ensure there was no Walter Scott element in Shakespeare. Director Sergei Bondarchuk made a fine spectacle of war in his War and Peace, and yet Tolstoi loathed war. A genius cannot admire war in any of its manifestations.

p In the late thirties, the leading Shakespeare authority, Morozov, interpreted Henry IV as a monarchist play. The Prince is a fine, noble man, who played, joked and revelled with Falstaff and then “reformed” and rejected such baseness. No doubt this is a valid interpretationsuch is the scope and range of Shakespeare’s work that it admits a practically unlimited number of interpretations. But I feel that this interpretation is quite impossible today.

p Despite the humorous, and even farcical nature of many scenes, it is essential to convey the gravity and poignancy of human destiny. The recruits are funny, but they are basically full of terror at the thought of impending death, each one expressing fear in his own way.

The special theatrical key of the play must be given immediately in the prologue. The audience must at once be made to feel that serious matters can be put across in the language of the “fairground farce”.

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p Work on the composition of the play, which continued right up to the premiere, finally produced the following form: two acts divided into eleven scenes in all, with a prologue and epilogue.

p ACT I

p Scene I. London. The Palace. Scene II. London. An Appartment of the Prince’s. Scene III. Northumberland Castle (The Rebels). Scene IV. The “Boar’s Head” Tavern in Eastcheap. Scene V. London. The Palace.

p ACT II

p Scene VI. The rebel camp near Shrewsbury.

p Scene VII. Gloucestershire. Before Justice Shallow’s house.

p Scene VIII. The battle.

p Scene IX. After the battle.

p Scene X. King Henry IV’s appartments.

p Scene XL The coronation of Henry V.

p PROLOGUE

p Shakespeare’s Personification of Rumour is a monologue delivered by an actor as an induction to the play. In our production it is a manyheaded hydra. I did not wish to have an actor come on, recite verses and go off again, not to return. I wanted to introduce the image of Rumour into the very fabric of the work, clothe it in sensory form and link it with Shakespeare’s philosophy. I wanted to impart to Rumour a note of triumph. The witches in Macbeth and various spirits and fairy-tale characters in Shakespeare’s later works who are cynical and omniscient because they have perceived eternity are the prototypes of my interpretation of Rumour. They know that all human efforts to acquire power, wealth and love end in death. They are at once higher than humans because they know the value of their efforts and lower than humans in that they cannot know the joy of living and faith in the meaning and purpose of life. The bacchanalia at the beginning of the performance, the coarse, cynical laughter of the know-alls personifying Rumour, ever ready to lie and betray, are intended to arouse the audience and bring about their active involvement in the performance, forcing them to pass their own judgements on the characters and events.

p A crowd of hideous creatures-whether they are female or neuter it is hard to say-bursts onto the stage with wild cries and screams, circl- 288 ing in a savage dance, jubilating at the thought that the audience are about to see yet another spectacle of human folly and vanity leading to misfortune. This is the scum of the earth that has only one “ advantage”—immortality and knowledge, contemptible immortality and contemptible knowledge. Then they depart, to appear again through gaps in the curtains. Gaily, like clowns, they speak of how things repeat themselves, how Rumour lies, how it shuffles the cards, shaking the world with total ignorance.

p Instead of having a Prologue reciting his lines, I wished to have a tuning fork, giving the note of tragicomedy for the performance.

p ACT I

p SCENE I. THE PALACE

p A complete contrast to the prologue. Medieval asceticism. Outward calm with violent passions raging beneath the surface. The conspiracy already exists although it has not yet been formulated. Henry Percy (Hotspur) ’s refusal to return the Scottish prisoners captured in battle is not simply petulance, it is a direct challenge to the royal authority. Hotspur will never again use his sword to serve the King’s interests. A threshold has been crossed and there is no going back. The full intensity of the conflict, the irreconcilability of interests, must be conveyed right from the start. The Northumberland family, who had originally helped put Henry IV on the throne, have borne a grudge against the King for a long time. They felt they had been insufficiently rewarded for the risk they took in supporting Bolingbroke’s usurpation of power. They are now the King’s enemies, and the King cannot fail to sense this immediately. Worcester provokes the King by reminding him of his family’s services, and the King dismisses him, thereby disgracing him in public. This is the last straw for the conspirators. The King has himself given them an excuse. The scene must be played in such a way as to make it clear that if not today, then tomorrow, an excuse would have been found. The King has sensed opposition before the action opens, that is why he is so strict about the observance of court etiquette. He keeps coming in and out of the room, obliging his erstwhile friends, elderly people, to keep on kneeling. Since he is losing his real power over these people, he feels he has to exercise the attributes of power at least, the established court etiquette.

p After the King leaves, the conspirators come out into the open. Worcester, Hotspur and his father try to whip up their hatred for the King. Worcester, the “grey cardinal” who would prefer to shelter behind his bellicose and implacable nephew, puts his cards on the 289 Henry IV (V. Strzhclchik) and Prince Harry (O. Borisov) The “Boar’s Head” Tavern table. He wants unconditional participation in Percy’s conspiracy. Each one of them is thinking only of his own petty interests, the conflict is quite formal, based as it is on wounded pride and swollen ambition. Nobody thinks of the real consequences of the internecine struggle they are promoting.

p This scene has none of the romantic flight we associate with Walter Scott or Victor Hugo and which is definitely not a feature of Shakespeare, where everything is virile, austere and wisely simple.

p SCENE II. AN APPARTMENT OF THE PRINCE’S

p This is perhaps the most difficult scene in the whole play. It is here that the relationship between Prince Harry and Falstaff is presented, here alone that the complex, contradictory nature of this relationship that is of singular importance for the play is to be discovered.

p The friendship between the heir apparent and the elderly Falstaff is founded on the fact that they understand each other, something that is far more rare than is generally recognised. They are practically inseparable. The Prince is drawn to Falstaff because he is so fascinatingly “different” with his patent disregard for the accepted norms of behaviour in the medieval capital, his great knowledge and understanding 01 people, his inventiveness, his propensity for endless friendly “stag” conversation.

p The dialogue, abounding in vivid images and similes, and scintillating wit, must be put over with the maximum of verve and spontaneity, to convey the feeling that the characters could go on indefinitely without ever running dry. This is typical of Shakespeare in general. The actors must revel in this word play, in their ability to “invent” similes, metaphors, synonyms, aphorisms, and so on. They must assimilate the dialogues and feel that they arc their own, and speak in a perfectly free and unrestrained manner, rejoicing at every thrust and parry, at every verbal triumph over their “opponent”.

p This time Falstaff has decided to deliver a few useful precepts to the heir apparent: “Marry, then, sweet wag, when thou art king, let not us. that arc squires of the night’s body, be called thieves of the day’s beauty: let us be Diana’s foresters, gentlemen of the shade, minions of the moon ...”

p ”. . . But, I pr’y thec, sweet wag, shall there be gallows standing in England when thou art king? and resolution thus fobbed, as it is, with the rusty curb of old father antic, the law? Do not thou, when thou art king, hang a thief.”

The Prince agrees with him and develops Falstaff’s line of thought. But each of his remarks ends with something unpleasant for Falstaff: 290 reference to the gallows, the idea of appointing Falstaff hangman and not judge. Falstaff is forced to drop this theme and embark on another, reassuming the initiative: ”. . . But, Hal, I pr’y thee, trouble me no more with vanity.” The Prince is thoroughly enjoying himself. It is all rather more like the buffoonery of a court jester, albeit on intimate terms with him, than a discussion of his future government, even in jest. The Prince himself does not realise that he does not permit full friendly intimacy with Falstaff, according him the role of his favourite buffoon. Although Falstaff senses something of the sort, for the moment he attaches but slight importance to it, and goes on with the game of words, testing his conjectures again and again. Falstaff greatly prizes his friendship with the Prince, for he loves him dearly. He sees Harry’s devotion to him as a confirmation of his own principles and his own merit. At the same time, he realises that he cannot be passive in the development of their relationship, that he must constantly provide new food for Harry’s sated imagination, constantly divert and entertain him. Thus, when Poins appears with the suggestion that they rob some merchants he immediately pounces upon the idea. What could be more fun! Especially together with the Prince, in whose company they need hardly fear punishment. The Prince, however, refuses: it is far too straightforward an undertaking for his taste. When later, in Falstaff’s absence, Poins suggests that robbing the merchants be combined with tricking Falstaff, the Prince readily agrees. Tricking Falstaff and then listening to his lies is much more like fun! Poins plays on Falstaff’s gift for buffoonery, thus assessing his role for the Prince. But what he cannot understand is that the Prince’s interest is in Falstaff’s imagination. The Prince knows in advance that Falstaff’s account of how he robbed the merchants and how he was then himself robbed will be a brilliant cascade of wit, full of flights of fancy. Poins the pragmatist has no difficulty in persuading the Prince where Falstaff failed. He has not a scrap of sympathy for Falstaff, unlike the Prince, although he, too, only expresses it once: “Wcre’t not for laughing, I should pity him.” As I have already mentioned, at first we thought of transferring the Prince’s monologue beginning “I know you all . . .” to some later point iu the play so as not to reveal the Prince’s true attitude at once. But Shakespeare’s powerful logic, the logic of genius, convinced us that the monologue was in place. The Prince’s character must be conveyed immediately to show the gradual accumulation of those qualities that led to his betrayal of Falstaff. It is important to show that the Prince regarded Falstaff and the others as temporary companions on his life’s road. Falstaff’s inquisitive mind has forced this unusual young man to give attention to what was ignored by others, by those who failed to smell the aroma of natural gaiety, carousing and risky ventures.

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p S C E N E III. N 0 R T H U M B E R L A N D C A S T L E (T H E R E B E L S)

p The conspirators have cverything-courage, determination, hatred for the king, even the archbishop’s blessing-and yet the main thing, harmony, is lacking.

p The first clash is between Percy and Glendower. Even in this medieval atmosphere, Glendowcr’s obscurantist philosophy strikes a dissonant note. His pompous assertion ”. . . at my birth the front of heaven was full of fiery shapes”, and his conclusion “These signs have mark’d me extraordinary” is so vain as to be almost comical. Percy is infuriated by G!endower’s preposterous pride, and by every word he utters. This helps him conceal his own lack of confidence, his dissatisfaction with the conspiracy, in which everybody, himself included, is pursuing his own selfish interests. He feels sure that the conspiracy is doomed to failure. Here Shakespeare is presenting a theme he treats in many of his Histories: the theme of inertia and indecision, where people embarking on some exceptionally difficult undertaking arcostensibly more bold and energetic the less confidence they have in a successful outcome. The character with his decision is like an arrow in flight, or like an archer pulling back the bowstring although he already realises that the battle is lost. Here Percy plays both the archer and the arrow. This is expressed in the fury with which he attacks Glendower, sensing deep down inside him that a few human weaknesses could be forgiven in the interests of the desired unity.

p The second, more important, indication that the conspiracy is doomed to failure is the carving up of the map of England. It thus emerges that the positive programme of the plotters boils down to dividing the country into “three limits very equally”. Once more, Percy alone realises the pettyness of such a programme, but, unable to suggest anything positive, he begins bargaining over his portion. He provokes Glendower again, deliberately heightening the conflict. This is not simply his fiery nature, but once more an expression of dissatisfaction with his co-plotters, fury resulting from his impotence to change anything. This can be expressed in plastic terms by having the map on the floor and making the conspirators use daggers when pointing to it. Thus Percy toys with his dagger, ready at any moment to use it for its intended purpose. He seems to desire it, constantly bating the hottempered Glendower. There must be a point when they rush at each other’s throats. Only the presence of the Archbishop, Worcester and Mortimer restrains them from a senseless fight. They are reconciled. Yet the whole atmosphere contradicts the closing lines of the episode; 

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p Mortimer: These promises are fair, the parties sure,

p And our induction full of prosperous hope.

p Only the clever Worcester feels all the historical irony of the past and future.

p It is essential to feel the maturity of Shakespeare’s thought. Only Shakespeare could feel so poetically and accurately the connection between times and human actions. We feel that every step his characters take is dictated by the eternal movement of time.

p SCENE IV. THE “B O A R’ S HEAD” TAVERN IN EASTCHKAP

p This is the longest scene in our production, and embodies a mctaphor-an island of life in a sea of death.

p While the ambitious Percy is paving his way to becoming the first man in the realm, his antipode, the lawful heir to the throne, is revelling in a tavern amid rogues and prostitutes, “squires of the night’s body”, terrorising peaceful Londoners.

p While in Scene Two we saw Falstaff as the Prince’s guest, here the Prince is in Falstaff’s “den”. This is practically Falstaff’s home, and he can feel himself the master of the house. Falstaff’s authority has suddenly grown in the eyes of Mistress Quickly, the landlady of the tavern, since he brought Prince Harry there. This raised Falstaff’s “stocks” as a man and as a person who is really no stranger in high society.

p After the gloom of Northumberland castle, where the conspirators had been engaged in counting their chickens before they were hatched, we wanted this scene to contain a climax of drunken revelry and ribaldry, spiced with coarse wit and sparkling aphorism. Whatever else may be said of this life, it is Life with a capital L. This is Falstaff’s kingdom, a small oasis of the Renaissance. Here wit, inventiveness and vitality hold sway, and there is no room for the hypocrisy and constraint of medieval morality. Anyone who is merry and carefree is welcome. The Prince basks in this atmosphere while waiting for his hour to strike, and draws strength from this cup of health.

p The scene must begin with a flourish, on the high note in which it is to continue. The Prince is enjoying himself while waiting for Falstaff, anticipating the pleasure he is going to derive from tricking him. Everything goes as planned. Falstaff behaves as had been predicted and plays up to his beloved Prince, who is full of admiration for his inventiveness and resourcefulness, his ability to squirm out of what would seem to be the most hopeless situations. The scene of the bating of Falstaff turns into a triumph for Falstaff. The verbal battle, the 293 attempt to expose him as a liar, ends with his brilliant counter-thrust, “Why, hear you, my masters: was it for me to kill the heir apparent? Should I turn upon the true prince? Why, thou knowcst I am, as valiant as Hercules: but beware instinct; the lion will not touch the true prince.” There is no answer to that one. Falstaff has won, his wit proved greater and more fertile than the trick planned by Poins. This is the apogee of gaiety, high-water mark of the revelry, the last splash in calm waters, the fellowship of wit and friendship. Dance and song round off the revels. The song must be wild and boisterous, unbridled in the best sense of the word, gay and abandoned.

The news of the war marks a turning-point in the scene. Up to then the theme of the King and the conspiracy and the theme of Falstaff and the Prince ran parallel: from here on, from the moment the Prince learns of the war and is more deeply affected by the news than he wishes to show, the two themes merge-in the Prince. He is already thinking along different lines, and the important moment is approaching when Harry will be able to show the world that he is not what he seems to be. The difficulty for the actor here is that he has somehow to convey all his personal hatred for Percy and his ambition without giving it outward expression, and not reveal it until the end of the scene, after he and Falstaff have done their performance of the King and the Prince. For the time being everything is held in check and concealed, impatience being revealed simply in somewhat increased concentration and introspection. Perhaps his movements become less expressive, perhaps his mind wanders for a moment to thoughts of the near future, of the inevitable clash with his chief enemy, Percy, of how he is going to stun the world with his transformation. The important thing is that in this war, in this clash between two camps, between the King and the conspirators, everyone is thinking only of himself, of his own selfish interests. It remains for history to decide. Shakespeare rightly excludes all considerations of a nobler order from the play. Only Falstaff’s rejection of the whole existing order, expressed in his disregard for accepted principles, make one think of the fate of the state, and the people in this country rent by internecine strife between the court and the feudal barons. The fact that Falstaff takes nothing seriously, scoffs at the conventions of contemporary life, eats, drinks, and makes merry, and indulges in dreams and wild flights of fancy-this expresses the scorn of the healthy human essence in man for artificial, contrived relationships. This is the only possible form of protest under the circumstances. Here everything is in reverse-with vice condemning virtue. Virtue turns out to be evil, and vice, or what is commonly accepted to be vice, acquires tremendous philosophical and historical value and survives throughout the ages.

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p The improvised scene enacted by Falstaff and the Prince on the theme of what will happen when the Prince appears in response to his father’s summons is one of the most important episodes in the play. Above all it is necessary to convey the beauty of Shakespeare’s poetry, the power and vividness of the images, the poetic transitions, the mixture of the serious and the comic.

p During this short “play within a play” the actors should begin with the famous Brechtian alienation effect and gradually pass to the direct expression of their feelings, to highly emotional acting. At first they arc really “acting a part”, but they gradually begin to say the serious things they would normally not have dared put into words. It is easier to say what you really think when you are pretending to be somebody else.

p Thus, the amusing performance becomes progressively more dramatic and ends on a tragic, prophetic note, when the Prince/King replies to Falstaff/the Prince’s plea not to banish Falstaff: “I do, I will . . . .”

p To begin with the Prince plays himself and Falstaff plays the King. Then they change roles. Thus, both of them play Henry IV, but since the Prince knows him far better than Falstaff does, he imitates almost exactly his gestures and intonations. This is a gay improvised performance on the subject: “What will happen when the Prince appears before the King?” But the situation is complicated by the fact that from the moment he learned of the war from Falstaff, the Prince has changed sharply inwardly, although this is not expressed outwardly. On learning of the war, the Prince adopts the mocking, humorous tone in which Falstaff informed him of the conspiracy. But inwardly he is now in deadly earnest. The war gives the Prince an ideal opportunity to really show himself, to astound and conquer, and, what is especially important, triumph over Percy Hotspur. Playing the scene in the throne room with Falstaff, he realises that everything has changed, and from now on he is no longer speaking as the King, but as himself. He tells Falstaff what he really thinks, which is in fact roughly what the King thinks. Falstaff senses something new in the Prince’s tone, and feels slightly put out by the insults heaped upon him. This tirade was somehow different from their usual playful mutual vituperation and teasing. “Why dost thou converse with that trunk of humours, that boltinghutch of beastliness, that swollen parcel of dropsies, that huge bombard of sack, that stuffed cloak-bag of guts, that roasted Manningtree ox with the pudding in his belly, that reverend vice, that grey iniquity, that father ruffian, that vanity in Years?” the Prince asks. ”. . . That villainous abominable misleader of youth, Falstaff, that old whitebearded Satan.” Then, as sharp as the crack of a whip comes his threat to banish Falstaff: “I do, I will . . . .” At this point the arrival 295 of the Shcrrif is announced, but Falstaff is far more \Vorried about the Prince’s inexplicable behaviour. His old doubts seem to be confirmed, his vague premonitions seem to be coming true. The Prince fails to understand his truly prophetic words, which go beyond the framework of this scene and indeed of the whole play: “... banish not him thy Harry’s company: banish plump Jack, and banish all the world.” So indeed it was. It is not Prince Harry, the future King Henry V who immortalised Falstaff, but Falstaff who immortalised his crowned partner. It is thanks above all to Falstaff that the play lives on throughout the ages.

p The Prince’s estrangement must not only be expressed in words. There must be a moment when he looks at Falstaff as he has never looked at him before. This moment must be prolonged, so that the audience, the other characters, and Falstaff himself, have time to feel that the Prince is about to betray his plump Jack to the Sherrif. But immediately the tension relaxes. The Prince laughs, hugs Falstaff and says: “Go, hide thee behind the arras . . . .”

p The inevitability of the breach between Prince Harry and Falstaff involving the renunciation by the Prince of genuine humanity as the price of his ambition must be conveyed throughout, by the whole development of events in the play. It is essential to stress the primacy of objective conditions over the subjective intentions of the Prince. Falstaff must be alarmed not so much for himself as for the Prince. He regrets that his work (if it may be so called) has been in vain. There will be no other Prince in his life-Harry is his one and only. He had been mistaken in believing that he had found a disciple and friend, and that his love for him was reciprocated. Falstaff will do his best to forget this scene.

p At the end of the scene, the Prince, left alone, brings us back to the developing events. Everything that he has accumulated up to now in the course of the play is expressed in the short, impassioned speech:

p “The land is burning; Percy stands on high; And either we or they must lower lie.”

p There words bring us back to the conspiracy, which has crossed the threshold from peace to war.

p SCENE V. L O N D O N. THE P A L A C E

p With the hindsight of history we can see that King Henry IV, who ruled in England in the fifteenth century, was more progressive than his opponents, the rich feudal barons who were trying to tear the country assunder and drag it back to feudal fragmentation.

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p Henry IV was strong in his desire for unification of the state. He had been convinced of his ability to achieve this all his life, even before he became King, or before there was any suggestion that he might one day ascend the throne. As a man who had usurped the throne, it was frequently to his sense of his own strength that he referred in order to appease his conscience and justify himself, convincing himself of his rights as a strong, energetic, intelligent man who would certainly be better for England than a weak, vacillating, easily- influenced man like Richard II. An interesting parallel is provided by Fyodor loannovich and Boris Godunov in Russia. Despite all the differences in the actual characters and situations, they are alike as regards the moral content imputed by literature and art.

p “O my poor kingdom, sick with civil blows! When that my care could not with hold thy riots, What wilt thou do when riot is thy care?”

p The King’s thoughts arc turned to Prince Harry, the heir apparent. Harry Percy seems to the King to be a far more desirable candidate for the crown than the wayward, dissolute Prince Harry, who is far removed from court affairs and responsibilities. What was the point of his long life of treachery and deceit if there was nobody to whom he could pass on the crown? The King is far more worried about this than about the conspiracy.

p A moment of weakness, some clear manifestation of physical exhaustion which will later lead to death is here an expression of a spiritual ailment. It is a good idea sccnically to show the King as weak and despondent before the decisive battle with the rebels which he is going to win. The King does not reveal this weakness cither to his supporters or his enemies, but Shakespeare makes him reveal it to the audience, when he is alone with the audience-alone with his thoughts.

p In general, Shakespeare’s heroes take the audience into their confidence more readily than the other characters for Shakespeare’s plays are completely devoid of moralising.

p It is more interesting to indicate the apparent strength of the conspirators and the apparent apathy and lethargy of the King, especially since all the circumstances are on (the King’s side-power, the palace, troops, and the whole weight of legality and the establishment. Even historical necessity.

p The conspiracy would not be so very serious were it not for the thoughts embarrassing the King. In his time he had betrayed Richard, and now his former friends, who had helped him then, are betraying him. The heir is far from what he would have desired. He has no wise, 297 devoted people behind him. “O my poor kingdom, sick with civil blows!” might well be interpreted as “O poor me! . . .”

p The conspiracy is most inopportune. The King has already dealt with many of his enemies, and would gradually have dealt with his “friends”. Probably Worcester was next on the list. But the cunning Worcester had felt this and this was the main reason for his adherence to the conspiracy. He has a talent for uniting dissatisfied elements and inciting them to action.

p Today the Prince appears in answer to his father’s summons as casual and playful as ever, indeed, even more so, for today he has a surprise in store for his father. His whole behaviour is based on savouring this surprise in advance. He might jostle a page, or give brother John a mighty whack on the back. He bends his knee before his father with the hypocritical expression of obedience, but with a silent challenge.

p But his unsuspecting father sees it all as the usual impudence, and cannot conceal his irritation. The scene must be taken to the maximum degree of acuteness: the King, unable to control himself, deals the Prince a hard blow. The King’s drama is that he loves this wayward son of his far more than his other sons, who are obedient and virtuous in their behaviour. The Prince emerges the winner from this bout. The King has lost control of himself, while the Prince is smiling, silently rejoicing. They are left alone, the King looking anxiously at his son, sprawled on the floor. The Prince, wiping away the blood and regarding his father with a smile of mocking superiority, says:

p “And God forgive them that so much have sway’d, Your majesty’s good thoughts away from me!”

p It is here that Harry first reveals his true self to his father. His short monologue must be so powerful and convincing that the King’s words-“Thou shalt have charge and sovereign trust herein”—seem the only possible conclusion.

p This scene, too, is very difficult for the actors, since there is extremely little “leeway” for sharp conflicts and swings. Unless the Prince has managed to accumulate fierce hatred for Percy who has once more crossed his path, and an ardent desire to convince his father of his real essence and his willingness to struggle to the death, by the time he comes to his monologue, then the King will remain unconvinced by his words beginning “Do not think so, you shall not find it so ... .”

What another, lesser dramatist would have needed a whole act to convey, Shakespeare manages to compress into a single short scene.

298

p ACT II

p The composition is broader, deeper and more varied than in Act I, all the main currents of the plot having merged into a single stream. It is as though a machine, assembled and put into operation in the first act, is now working at full capacity, all the different components in action, working ceaselessly and irreversibly.

p There are many episodes, now of a calm, epic nature, gradually building up, now sharply interrupting the rhythm. There is war and peace, the end of one reign and the beginning of another, and a tragic end to friendship, betrayal, and awakening.

p SCENE VI. THE REBEL CAMP NEAR SHREWSBURY

p The rebel camp stands facing the King’s camp and the two sides are parleying. All the time there must be the feeling that peace is within sight, that there are no real reasons for a bloody battle. But the machinery of war has been set in motion and vanity, the/ prime motive of the whole campaign, is at stake, pride pitted against t>ride, so that the conflict is unavoidable. Yet the customary ritual is observed, giving a semblance of a desire to negotiate. The scene must evoke conflicting feelings: on the one hand, the logic of reason demands peace, yet, on the other hand, peace is already out of the question, since the camps are drawn up and the weapons are ready for use. Even were it not for Worcester’s treachery, something would have pushed the lever in the logical direction. The pace is slow and unhurried, and the situation is conveyed in virile, restrained terms. The conversation between Worcester and Vernon, the rebel envoys, is extremely important, despite the abovementioned facts of the situation. Worcester decides to conceal from Harry Percy the King’s proposals for peace, and manages to sway Vernon. Worcester realises that war is his only chance of saving his own neck, and he frightens Vernon, convincing him that in any case they will be made to pay for what they have already done. He is right: the King is indeed insincere in his talk of peace. Here the personal goads on the social, and individual selfishness provokes a mass tragedy.

p The conversation between Worcester and Vernon represents the last moments of peacetime. This is the beginning of a new time for England and all her people. The end of peace and the beginning of war. This must be expressed laconically and in close-up. Two men, Worcester and Vernon, are alone on a vast, bare stage.

299

p SCENE VII. GLOUCESTERSHIRE. BEFORE JUSTICE SHALLOW’S HOUSE

p After the tense atmosphere of the last scene, the closeness before the thunder storm, we find ourselves in a serene world of dotage and senile decay. Justice Shallow and his friend Justice Silence are engaged in a perfectly prosaic activity. The aim is to make their occupations appear extremely unmanly. They are winding wool, and sneeze from the tickle in the throat it gives them. This scene interrupts the action at a dramatic moment, according to the Shakespearean principle of “In the meantime . . . .” In the meantime, while the atmosphere is building up for a storm near Shrewsbury, which is soon to become an historic battlefield, in the summer heat of provincial England two old dodderers are nattering and engaged in a petty squabble. Nothing happens, nothing at all. The conflict is completely puerile, as stressed by the endless harping on the same old theme. Each of the wranglers only sees the stye in the other man’s eye. Shallow’s questions about the price of sheep and oxen should pervade the whole scene. His memory is lamentable. Yet both Shallow and Silence are oozing with selfimportance, as though they are discoverers of profound truths. The important thing here is to achieve a comic contrast between their manner and the content of their conversation. One of Shakespeare’s most pungent themes, which he treats in all genres, from the comic to the tragic-the theme of death-here expresses the philosophical pretentions of the old men. The line “We shall all follow, cousin”, repeated over and over again, is intended to produce a comic effect. Apart from this pathetic truism, they have absolutely nothing to say on the subject. Moreover, the whole scene should create the impression that Shallow and Silence have long since “followed”, that they arc already, practically speaking, in the world of beyond.

p Although this scene is not essential to the plot of the play and could therefore conceivably be omitted, I regard it as being of paramount importance. In this respect there is something of a parallel between this scene and the third act in some of Ostrovsky’s plays, like A Profitable Job or The Last Sacrifice. Many theatres omit them in their production without damage to the plot. Yes as a result much of the philosophical and social meaning of the play is lost, the writer having deliberately chosen to make a condensed analysis of social phenomena in a digression from the main action. This is that social background which distinguishes the classic work of art from pedestrian imitations on an identical theme.

p The two old men chatter on, hardly deigning to look at each other, basking in sun, enjoying the peace of passionless old age. Each actor 300 must create a microcosm for the part, for the two characters both live in their own little world. It is almost idyllic. Real life only bursts in in the odd remark about Falstaff, with whom, it emerges, Shallow had studied and caroused in his student days, and about the recruits Fal- staff is mustering in this area. So these cabbages do, after all, have some connection with the war and the soldiers, and decide somebody’s fate .... Although menacing notes must not be allowed to destroy the comic nature of the scene, they must sound more and more clearly as the scene progresses. The arrival of the cheerful Bardolph and his hearty greeting, interrupting the calm, slow flow of the dialogue.rather in the spirit of the theatre de Vabsurde, must make the two of them speechless with fright. It is left to Bardolph himself to help them over their state of shock. Any outside irritation has the impact of a bomb explosion on them. Falstaff is at once amused by the old pair and irritated by Shalow’s reminiscences, which are sheer invention for the most part. Falstaff, who has retained his youthful vigour of mind, and whose feelings and imagination have not been blunted in the slightest by time is rather put out by the patent decline of the companion of his youth. His good humour returns, however, when he remembers that Shallow was little better in his younger days. But Falstaff does not scorn the protestations of devotion to him, which Silence is especially eager to express, and even promises to present them at court for a small “loan” of a thousand pounds for his “pains”.

p The recruits arrive. Five different expressions of terror. One expresses his fear in a forced display of courage, another in complete stupor, another in abject cringing and begging to be let off. These small parts pack great meaning for the play as a whole. They must be vivid, memorable characters impressing themselves on the minds of the audience. Here we are given another slant on the war-those that are going to fight and die in the name of raging ambitions, the cannon fodder. They have every reason to be afraid, for they are doomed. Nobody understands this better than Falstaff, and he regards letting a couple of them go home for a small fee as an act of natural charity. And it is the two most able-bodied that he lets go, for, according to his reasoning, it makes no difference who is going to provide the cannon fodder in this senseless war that does not concern him unduly.

The entire scene must be constructed on the principle of the rondo. At the end we return to the atmosphere of senile decay-but it is no longer the cloudless atmosphere it seemed at the beginning. The idyll has been destroyed.

301

p SCENE VIII. THE BATTLE

p The scene at the rebel camp must begin on a sharp, high note, to bring us back to the war with a jolt. Percy reacts to Worcester’s words ”There is no seeming mercy in the King”, as though to slap on the face: “Did you beg any? God forbid!” This is the signal for action. The order is given to attack, there is a moment of farewell, and the rebels launch their first attack on the King’s camp. The Battle of Shrewsbury has begun.

p The battle must be shown in all its grim reality, so that there is nothing “picturesque” about it. The fighting must be fierce and exhausting. The people are not there to fence but to kill one another. The irreconcilable enmity must gradually build up to a climax from the duels between Douglas and Blunt “semblably furnish’d like the King himself” to the final bout between Harry and Percy Hotspur. In every case the characters must fight themselves to a standstill. The winner is the one who is able to make one last small thrust and pierce his enemy so that it is like slaughtering a meek animal rather than killing a man. The final thrust must be as simple as wriggling a finger.

p These duels are close-ups of war. They are preceded by long- shotfrontal attacks by the two armies. Percy’s troops attack with their backs to the audience, and it is as though the King’s men are bearing down on the spectators. This is the beginning of the battle. The machinery of death has been set in motion. Right up to the last moment it must seem as though the slaughter might be avoided. But as soon as the battle has begun, its grim rhythms must convey its ineluctability. The unnatural becomes the natural reality. The only person who does not submit to necessity is Falstaff. He is a dissenter even in war. Falstaff is always himself and it is not for us to soften or embellish his cowardice and irresponsibility. By accepted standards Falstaff behaves badly. But the whole point is that Falstaff is the only character in Shakespeare’s histories who does not submit to the hypnosis of the military machine. He has only to put his hands over his ears and silence reigns. What is this war really all about? What is its purpose? What are people being called upon to die for? So that Percy and his relations can divide the country into “three limits”? Or in order to strengthen the royal power? Such is the meaning of the rich, impassioned monologue about honour being an empty word, the meaning of Falstaff’s emphatically “unmilitary” behaviour. He alone is out of step, and that is why he has marched to us across the centuries more successfully than any, with his tangible flesh, his acumen and scathing irony. The champion of death, Douglas, and Falstaff, the champion of life, represent the two poles of this war.

302

p SCENE IX. AFTER THE BATTLE

p The stage is heaped with corpses. This image must appear suddenly, out of darkness. The full horror of war is to be seen in the battlefield when the fighting is over. The crown is lit with a bright red light from within, and a trumpet plays a slow, calm, elegiac, perhaps even tragic, melody. This scene is one of the climaxes of the play. The triumph of death. The moment comes when the victors realise they have won, calm down and cease to kill and the vanquished retreat. No .. dramatist has so much bloodshed on the stage as Shakespeare, and yet nobody treats the theme of death with such profound humanity. In this respect Shakespeare’s genius was far in advance of his time. For him death is material to the point of an agonising sensation of decay. In the face of death all men are equal, the king lies down with the beggar.

p “Now, Hamlet, where’s Polonius?” “At supper ....

p “Not where he eats, but where he is eaten ....

p “Nothing but to show you how a king may go a progress through the guts of a beggar.”

p Such images connected with thoughts of death, which were given most detailed and profound expression in Hamlet, arc developed in one way or another in practically every one of Shakespeare’s plays. In Henry IV the dying Percy says: “... no, Percy thou art dust, And food for . . . .” “For worms, brave Percy,” says the Prince, who has slain his chief rival and continues, in characteristic Shakespearean fashion: “fare thee well, great heart!”

p This respect for the dying man, recognition of his services, is a fitting tribute to an opponent who has lost an honest fight. The Prince had fought with a man he respected, and so might easily have been in his position, and the dead man is no longer an enemy, but a victim of fate, a victim of circumstances, which man is powerless to control. That is why the death of one man in Shakespeare is always equivalent to the death of many. The sunlight fades, the heart stops beating, the arms go weak, the legs stiffen-we have a tangible impression of a life departing and the whole world with it. Once, twice, or more-it makes no difference. Perhaps that is why despite the abundance of corpses in Shakespear’s plays, he remains a great humanist. One man’s death entails the death of dozens, hundreds, thousands. Every man departs this world but once.

p Falstaff feigns death in order to live. Upon his “resurrection”, he accuses the dead of counterfeiting: “to die, is to be a counterfeit; for he is but the counterfeit of a man who hath not the life of a man...” 303 And to think that this was written over four hundred years ago! Falstaff’s “shocking” attitude, his almost indecent “battle” with the dead Percy against the background of a heap of corpses, is a culmination of the tragicomic treatment of death in Shakespeare.

p This diverse festival of death is the outcome of the ambition of people who tried to fight against circumstances and the inexorable advance of history.

p The King and his son were destined to triumph from the start, according to the historical necessity of social progress.

p SCENE X. KING HENRY IV’S APPARTMENTS

p Ten years have passed since the Battle of Shrewsbury; ten years in which the King has dealt with various conspiracies and struggled fiercely and ruthlessly to defend the royal power and assert the principle of absolutism; ten years of anxious thoughts and doubts about the succession. But since this general pattern has not been interrupted by any momentous events, the time lapse is hardly felt in the play. The next important moment is the beginning of the King’s illness. The stronger his power waxes, the more his physical strength wains. The closer he comes to death, the more he realises the vanity of power. “And wherefore should this good news make me sick?” As his physical strength ebbs, his perspicacity and mental subtlety increases. It is because he is more interested in the moral aspect of things that he regards his son’s act of stealing the crown as a foolish action. For him it is above all a matter of lack of filial piety. Nonetheless, so great is his love for his son and his pride as founder of a new dynasty, that the King forgives him. He even seems to have forgotten about it, and eagerly offers him the benefit of his experience.

p “..............O foolish youth!

p Thou seek’st the greatness that will overwhelm thee.”

p Despite this warning, the King realises that when he dies his son will succeed him as the lawful heir, and this he regards as his greatest service to his son. Having usurped the throne of England himself, he will be handing on the crown to a lawful heir. He himself took up the heavy burden of unlawful power and bore it for many years, but he will not be transmitting this burden to his son. Harry will have other problems.

p This scene is more than the culmination of the father and son theme. It contains the moral conclusion of the entire play, and paves the way for the betrayal in the last scene. As I see it, the Prince’s betrayal of 304 Falstaff in the final, coronation scene is already determined here. Some supporters of Prince Harry and King Henry V criticise us for an uncharitable interpretation of the part. They insist that the Prince took the crown in perfectly good faith, sincerely believing his father to be dead, that he was only taking what is his by right, and that he explains his action so convincingly that the offended King, who has awoken for a while before falling asleep again, this time forever, believes him and forgives him, and even loves him more than before. They suggest that the Prince does not really spurn Falstaff, but gives him a chartcc to reform and return to him. We thus stand accused of simplifying the complex character of the Prince and making him a negative instead of a positive character.

p As for the subsequent relations between King Henry V and Falstaff, there exists another play where we learn how Falstaff dies a piteable, lonely death, completely forgotten by the King. Of course, there is always the argument that this was simply because Falstaff did not in fact reform. But surely this really means that he did not reform in the eyes of the King, who has placed his whole life entirely in the service of affairs of state. Falstaff remained a moral dissenter. But why should we adopt the viewpoint of the King rather than of Falstaff?

p It is in this light that the stealing of the crown is to be interpreted. Prince Harry believes that his father is dead. But how few words he finds to express his grief, and how triumphantly and engrossedly he toys with the crown! Placing the crown on his head, he exclaims “Lo, here it sits!” and at this point the big crown lights up again. The two crowns on the stage at once are symbols, not of power, but of ambition. This is the Prince’s ultimate dream. The triumph of the crown signifies the destruction of the man. There must be irony here, of a tragicomic nature. The Prince, a clever, cautious man, capable of waiting patiently for years for his moment to come, is siezed with impatience as soon as he gets his hands on the toy of his dreams. The more winning, witty and lively the Prince is throughout the play, the more bitter the moment he becomes the King should be. His shame, his feeling of guilt towards his father, helps him to find a convincing justification. But does it really convince his dying father, the King, completely? I think not. Yet what can the King do but give his blessing to his energetic son? It is his victory, after all, albeit a Pyrrhic victory.

p In Dostoyevsky’s novel The Possessed there is a chapter entitled “Prince Harry”, which contains the following passage. “But very soon rather strange rumours reached Varvara Petrovna. The young man (Nikolai Stavrogin-G.T.) had suddenly taken to riotous living with a sort of frenzy. Not that he gambled or drank too much; there was only talk of savage recklessness, of running over people in the street 305 with his horses, of brutal conduct to a lady of good society with whom he had a liaison and whom he afterwards publicly insulted .... It was. added, too, that he had developed into a regular bully, insulting people for the mere pleasure of insulting them. Varvara Petrovna was greatly agitated and distressed. Stepan Trofimovich assured her that this was only the first riotous effervescence of a too richly endowed nature, that the storm would soon subside and that this was only like the youth of Prince Harry, who caroused with Falstaff, Poins and Mrs. Quickly, as described by Shakespeare. This time Varvara Petrovna did not cry out, ’Nonsense, nonsense!’as she was very apt to do in later years in response to Stepan Trofimovich. On the contrary she listened very eagerly, asked him to explain this theory more exactly, took up Shakespeare herself and with great attention read the immortal chronicle. But it did not comfort her, and indeed she did not find the resemblance very striking.”

p Dostoyevsky, a great admirer of Shakespeare, made fun of this rather flattering analogy for Stavrogin, because he perceived in the Prince’s complex character permanent devotion to a single aim, a singleness of purpose, which far from detracting from the Prince’s spiritual wealth, is what makes him unique in literature. A “reformed” Prince would hardly have interested Shakespeare, any more than a Hamlet who was really mad. Shakespeare’s intention has nothing to do with Stepan Trofimovich Verkhovensky’s didactic aims. The only thing that Prince Harry and Stavrogin have in common is the fact that they remain true to themselves from start to finish. Any other similarity is purely superficial.

p SCENE XI. THE CORONATION OF HENRY V

p The short final scene of the coronation has long been a foregone conclusion.

The chiming bells and the townsfolk running about the stage convey the appropriate festive atmosphere. Gradually the stage becomes more and more crowded. The last to arrive are the puffing, triumphant Falstaff, with Shallow and Silence and his friends from the “Boar’s Head” Tavern. Their hour has struck. Their beloved Harry, their former “charge”, is being crowned King of England. Falstaff delivers his monologue about a man spattered with mud from the road with great clan, conveying the agonising impatience of the loving heart to meet the object of its affection. This is a declaration of love for the Prince. An extremely noble, banly, poetic declaration, revealing Felstaff’s frankly lyrical nature. The more eagerly Falstaff waits, the more terrible the new King’s appearance is. Henry is a crowned corpse. Possibly Falstaff realised this immediately but he has longed for this meeting 306 and he must speak to his Harry. Perhaps the King is obliged to bear himself like that, but in a minute he will burst out laughing and hug him, as he did in the old days. Falstaff realises that this is the final test. He suffers the reverse he had anticipated deep down inside him. His hope that it is all a joke is shattered, and the most important thing now is to maintain his dignity. This he succeeds in doing.

p EPILOGUE

p Rumour returns to say a few words from Henry V.

“And let us, ciphers to this great accompt. On your imaginary forces work.”

There is always some gap between the conception of a production and its realisation. Some things turn out better than expected, others fail altogether. We realise that we undertook one of the most difficult works in the whole of world literature, and we understood from our own experience why this play has been so rarely performed on the Russian stage. But the joy of communion with Shakespeare makes it all worth while, and provides a basis for further difficult and rewarding exploration.