Henry V

Earlier this summer, I drove up to Oregon for the renowned Ashland Shakespeare Festival. I went to help out at Biola's Shakespeare summer class. We stayed at an organic resort, up among trees and meadows and a river known all over the state for it's "healing powers." The couple who runs the resort are organic farmers who mill their own wood, raise their own chickens, and wear flannel with boots almost year round. This is the type of place that makes you feel one with nature, always want to recycle, sit in a pasture under effortless blue sky, eat healthy, be slow to speak, climb mountains with a walking stick, appreciate simplicities, listen for frogs, and drink lemon water all day long.

My job was to hang out with Professor Kleist's kids, who are smart and creative beyond belief. We danced in our socks in the prayer chapel, pretended we were dragons (mostly Hydras), built bridges across the river, tossed sticks for the 2 huge dogs living at the resort, explored trails, made forts in the bedroom, read books, made up stories (about dragons, of course) and popped popcorn with M&Ms every night.

And on my afternoons or nights off, I went to town for the Shakespeare plays. The town of Ashland is everything a quaint Oregon town should be. Hills of pines act as backdrop to brick buildings, vintage stores, white picket fences, and funky coffee shops. In the heart of town, there are a series of theaters where from April to November you can catch a variety of Shakespeare plays.

One night, I went with the students to the showing of Henry V. The play was in the outdoor Elizabethan theater, modeled after the original Globe theater –– a beautiful two-story stage out under the stars. (You wouldn't believe how bundled up we got. It gets cold in Oregon at night, even in June. We brought the quilts and comforters from our beds. No, I'm not kidding. It looked like we'd set up permanent camp in our row, especially considering how many packs of gummy bears we snuck in.) Now, I've never been the hugest fan of the Henry plays. Yes, it's an interesting and classic concept ––  a boy becoming a man –– but I have to say, Hal never impressed me. I thought he was a whiny, spoiled prince who got lucky when he became king and won the war against the French. Until I saw this version of Henry V.

This company of actors have been playing these characters for the last 3 years, when they started with Henry IV, Part I.  The stage design set the tone so perfectly –– mostly grays and metallics, with colors of fire (English) and ice (French) laced throughout. The overall effect was sparse, hard, with clean lines. During one scene, it actually rained on stage, drumming real water in soft patterns. The whole production was so well crafted, a full work of art. The lilt of the old English became kind of intoxicating. There was something amazing about hearing the lovely cadence of the speeches, experiencing written words coming alive, watching characters develop right in front of your eyes.

The actor who played Henry was unbelievably talented (it helped that the next day we got to sit down with him and ask questions, seeing how deeply he researched and resonated with the character). He took all the passion and impulsiveness of Prince Hal and channeled it into a strong and rugged king, a man who uses the pressure of kingship to learn honor and integrity.  Henry, a scarred man (literally and figuratively) who has lost every loved one close to him, does not think too highly of himself, but treats kingship only as humanity with ceremony. His costuming was nothing special; in fact, he looked like a common soldier. Through him, as well as through the other actors in the play, I was forced to think deeply, to explore themes found in the play that I am learning in life.

I saw the heavy responsibility of leadership –– the passion and compassion needed to lead well. I saw the strength that must be summoned, along with understanding, in order to make difficult decisions. I saw the beauty of striving to be respectful, honorable and upright –– not to prove anything, but because it's how a good man, a good king acts. I saw how kindness and compassion can be co-mingled with integrity and strength. I saw the constancy of justice, and also the effect of mercy.

I also saw God in the play. I believe you can find God in anything good. But in this story, you get to see a miracle. Before a big battle, which the English will surely lose, Henry gives a simple speech to his men, his brothers (read St. Crispin's Day speech), which manages to be simultaneously understanding and demanding. His men proceed to win a completely miraculous victory against the French (a true story, by the way). After they learn the results of the battle, Henry and his men fall to their knees in prayer. After all the confusion and the fighting and the noise, this act had stunning power (as prayer should).

And then, came my absolute favorite part of the play. Okay, wait for it.

At the Shakespeare bookshop after the play, I bought the book copy of the company's version of the play. I loved what they chose to edit, and how clean, authentic and meaningful the result was. But I mostly bought it for this one quotation, which hit me hard. When I heard Henry say it on stage, I wanted him to repeat it six more times. After a harsh play, full of fighting and pain and exhaustion and difficult decisions, peace finally comes to the characters. Though the play gives a wonderful portrayal of the "fog of war," it also manages to show the beauty to be found in our humanity. And I think this particular part sums up the full character of King Henry very well. At the end of the play, Henry has a chance to forge the two nations by marrying the French princess, Kate. Now, I'm a through-and-through romantic. But I loved this quotation for its realism just as much as its sweetness. It rings true and kind, for even though Henry is the victor and could take the princess' hand forcibly, he approaches her humbly, as both a plain soldier and an honorable king. If I wasn't already totally in love with Henry, I was after this speech. I think this is the way love should be:

"And while thou liv'st, dear Kate, take a fellow of plain and uncoined constancy, for he perforce must do thee right, because he hath not the gift to woo in other places. For these fellows of infinite tongue, that can rhyme themselves into ladies' favours, they do always reason themselves out again. What, a speaker is but a prater, a rhyme is but a ballad. A good leg will fall, a straight back will stoop, a black beard will turn white, a curled pate will grow bald, a fair face will wither, full eye will wax hollow. But a good heart, Kate, is the sun and the moon, or rather the sun and not the moon, for it shines bright and never changes, but keeps his course truly. If thou would take such a one, take me; and take me a soldier; take a soldier, take a king. And what sayst thou then to my love?"

She says, yes, of course. There's nothing quite like a hard-earned happy ending.