Where did Prince Hal learn to fight?

Cafe Society
1

A week and a half ago, I saw Henry IV, Part 1 for the first time, and it’s got me wondering. For most of the play, and it’s implied, most of his life, Prince Hal, the heir to the throne, has been wasting away his time in the tavern with Falstaff and company. Falstaff is certainly no master of the arts of warfare: He’s presented as a braggart coward, and thinks nothing of war save as a means to turn a dishonest buck.

Then, in the climactic battle, Hal manages to slay Hotspur, widely regarded as the mightiest warrior in the land, in single combat, and fights off the Douglas, himself no wimp. How is he able to manage this? My first thought was that since he’s royal, he must automatically be better at anything than any lesser man: He is to be feared as the lion’s cub. But the reason he was fighting the Douglas in the first place is to rescue his father, who was being sore pressed by that Scott. If Hal is the lion’s cub, then his father is the lion, and should be at least as capable of defending himself as is his progeny.

So where did this great skill come from, all of a sudden?

2

Dramatic necessity.:wink:

In the spirit of the question though … we can probably assume that before Hal got into adolescent rebellion and started hanging out with Falstaff et al, he had received all the training in the skills of knighthood that would have been considered mandatory for a young man of his class and time.

How’s that?

3

I always figured that Hal learned to take care of himself in any number of tavern brawls while he was hanging with Falstaff. Most of them, come to think of it, probably started by Falstaff, at least indirectly. I think going toe to toe with the fifteenth century equivalent of football hooligans gave him a definite advantage over that namby-pamby Hotspur, who had never been in a real fight without being wrapped in a quarter ton of steel.

4

Ooh, Henry IV! One of my favorites.

I figure Rube and Miller are both right. :wink: (Though I suspect Falstaff would also have been a master at getting out of those tavern brawls as quickly as possible). For what it’s worth, were I directing the play I’d have the Hal/Hotspur fight start out chivalric and eventually get real down-and-dirty – which, I suppose, fits with Miller’s point about fifteenth-century football hooligans. (This sort of staging might be common, for all I know; I’ve only seen the play on stage once.)

Oh, and also, Chronos said –

Maybe so, but I figure Henry is more of a politician than a warrior (this is demonstrated particularly in Richard II), and Douglas is a pretty ferocious fighter – at least while his side’s winning (though he gets caught running away). So no problem there, really. :smiley:

5

In real life, of course, the future Henry V (I don’t think he was called Hal in his lifetime) was properly trained in the chivalric arts, as were all the Plantagenet princes. How much time he actually spent in taverns I don’t know. Shakespeare, of course, never minded changing history to whatever he needed, and in this case he needed a story arc that had the young prince redeeming himself and reconciling with his father, the formidable Henry IV.

Prince Hal actually isn’t a very attractive character, because he has a monologue that makes it clear he’s deliberately appearing to be a wastrel so that by contrast he’ll be admired the more when he starts actually performing his duty.

6

“For every honour sitting on his helm,
Would they were multitudes, and on my head
My shames redoubled! for the time will come,
That I shall make this northern youth exchange
His glorious deeds for my indignities.
Percy is but my factor, good my lord,
To engross up glorious deeds on my behalf;
And I will call him to so strict account,
That he shall render every glory up,
Yea, even the slightest worship of his time,
Or I will tear the reckoning from his heart.”

One of my favorites, too.

7

Yeah, all that they said, plus Henry IV was clearly not the hero of either of his namesake plays. He’s mostly the hero of Richard II (I say mostly because Richard has all the best lines), but by the time he’s grown up, he is consumed with feelings of doubt and humiliation over the way he obtained the throne. He wasn’t really (in Shakespeare’s characterisation) the ordained king, and his bloodline wasn’t to be solidified into that position until Hal got the throne and killed Hotspur (Wait, not Hotspur… Dammit, whoever the guy was in Henry IV, Part Two).

It’s weird, in this particular tetrology, the characters after whom the plays are named are really not the heroes. Richard II is more like an tragic hero in his, Henry IV is almost a background character in both of his, and Henry V can only be said to have a passing relationship with the moral highground in his play. Anyway, I thought it was interesting.

8

I dunno… The things you’re all pointing out all help, but it still doesn’t seem to add up. Certainly, Hotspur is formidable in a chivalric fight, but do you really think he’s never been up against a drunken barbarian before? I imagine that most of his opponents “fought dirty”. And Henry IV should have had all the same training as Hal, and kept in practice besides, but Hal is still the better fighter. Douglass’ ferocity explains why he can best the King, but not why the Prince can best him.

And even granting that Hal’s wastefulness is just a ruse (it seems to me that he’s more lying to himself in that soliloqy, and before his dad), he’s still forgoing training and practice to do so.

9

Well, the whole idea of chivalry was that right makes might – if God was on your side, you were going to win. This was the whole idea of jousts and duels to settle matters of honor. Considering that the custom of dueling lasted in England until at least the early 1800’s, I’m sure that this was a well-understood convention at Shakespeare’s time.

Furthermore, a similar convention (the good guy always wins) is still alive and well in today’s cinematic tradition. How many times have you seen the thoroughly out-classed good guy, beaten to a pulp and on his last legs (c.f. Rocky 1 through infinity or just about and Jon-Claude Van Damme movie) make a dramatic comeback and thrash an obviously superior opponent?

10

I think we can chalk up Hal’s defeat of two apparently superior fighters to dramatic license, but there’s some other stuff I wanted to comment on, in the hopes of getting a good discussion going on Shakespeare’s histories… :smiley:

But I don’t think we’re meant to see it that way at all! For reference, here’s what he actually says, first time he gets the stage to himself:

I know you all, and will awhile uphold
The unyoked humor of your idleness.
Yet herein will I imitate the sun,
Who doth permit the base contagious clouds
To smother up his beauty from the world,
That when he please again to be himself,
Being wanted, he may be more wondered at
By breaking through the foul and ugly mists
Of vapors that did seem to strangle him.
If all the year were playing holidays,
To sport would be as tedious as to work;
But when they seldom come, they wished-for come,
And nothing pleaseth but rare accidents.
So when this loose behavior I throw off
And pay the debt I never promised,
By how much better than my word I am,
By so much shall I falsify men’s hopes;
And like bright metal on a sullen ground,
My reformation, glittering o’er my fault,
Shall show more goodly and attract more eyes
Than that which hath no foil to set it off.
I’ll so offend to make offense a skill,
Redeeming time when men least think I will.
(1.2.189-211)

And of course we actually see him do all this, so I see no reason to say he’s lying to himself. It does color the way we see him over the rest of the tetralogy, though – Shakespeare even reminds us of it in Henry V. (It also creates some interesting choices for actors and directors.)

Incidentally, there is a niftly little scene in part 2, right after the death of Henry IV, where the Lord Chief Justice and some of the other noblemen are worrying about their prospects in the new reign, and the LCJ effectively says, “Well, now we’re all going to have to kiss Sir John Falstaff’s colossal behind…” :smiley:

Finagle, good call on divine justice. Though how one might interpret that with regards to the events at Shrewsbury is a bit of a thorny question (since it’s the forces of the usurping king that win). I think the strictly providentialist reading is that Hotspur the rebels are punished here for their rebellion, while the punishment of Henry IV’s usurpation is brought about by the spectacular incompetence of his grandson, Henry VI (who is, in the ironic way these things always seem to work, a genuinely virtuous man). I don’t think Shakespeare is as cut-and-dried as all that – I don’t think very many people do, especially nowadays :wink: – but he’s very concerned with the question. (There’s a lot of writing out there that addresses it more thoroughly and eloquently than I can here.) It’s particularly explicit in Richard II.

wizard song – the proposal that Bolingbroke is the real hero of Richard II is intriguing, though I don’t agree with it. I suppose it depends on your thoughts on the questions I’ve mentioned above, and how you define “hero” (e.g. is Richard III the hero of his play? Though I suppose “antihero” is probably the best word here) but otoh I don’t think he commands enough of the audience’s interests to really be very heroic. The rest of what you said, though, I can pretty much agree with. “Henry V can only be said to have a passing relationship with the moral highground in his play” – well said. :smiley:

Though most of the actual dispatching of rebels in 2H4 is left to Prince John of Lancaster (and his dirty, underhanded tricks :p). Henry IV’s deathbed advice to his son is interesting, though: it amounts to the time-honored strategy of “Go start foreign wars so that everyone will forget about your dubious claim to the crown.” Works like a charm, too…

11

And for anyone interested in another authors take on Bolingbroke I’d recommend reading Sara Douglass latest trilogy The Crucible. Very good reading.

12

I dunno, it still seems to me like he’s saying “You think that it’s fun lounging around getting drunk and partying all the time? Well let me tell you, this is hard work!”. I’ve heard essentially the same thing from frat guys in college and the like, and I’ve never taken any of them seriously.

But like I said, I’m willing to grant that for the sake of argument. It still seems to me that he’d be rather out of practice.

13

Well, Chronos, natural skill has to be taken into account, too. Take Mike Tyson or Muhammad Ali in their prime. Give them all of their basic boxing training, then give them a year off to booze and chase babes. Put them back in the ring, and I bet they still could have handled most of the contenders of their era. They were just that good, and maybe Hal was too.

14

Not to detract from a good point, but Rocky did lose the big fight in the first film.

Say what you want about the sequels, but the original was excellent.

15

No, what he’s saying is “Don’t worry, audience, Slacker Hal isn’t the real me.” Which is not to say it isn’t fun boozing it up all the time – maybe he does enjoy it while it lasts. I suppose that’s up to your actors, director, whatever.

None of which has any bearing on the status of his fighting skills, of course… :wink:

16

See, it’s precisely this question that makes me think that Richard II is the superior play in the tetralogy. For one thing, Richard has the best speeches in (for my money, anyway) any of the histories (well, okay, honorable mention has to go to the “St. Crispin’s Day” speech), especially the “let us sit on the ground and talk of the deaths of kings” monologue. Plus, for all the troubling questions about monarchy and stuff, there aren’t huge, glaring plotholes like the unlikely and sudden transformation of Prince Hal. That bit has bugged me ever since I read 1 Henry IV and will probably bug me 'til the end. The only explanation I can come up with is that Shakespeare really liked this Falstaff guy he’d dreamed up and wanted to find some way to put him in without being disrespectful to the monarchy. The whole “boozing to make everyone think I’m a waste” device just seems to artificial and contrived to me that I can’t stomach it.

Come to think of it, though, it’s odd that this bit of artifice bothers me so much when my favorite play by Shakespeare, Measure for Measure, is ended with a scene that is the very definition of contrivance. However, at least in my mind, the last act of Measure for Measure holds up better because I think Shakespeare wrote it to show how hollow the traditional “comedic ending” scenes were. In other words, he wrote the reconciliation scene in the comedy as a satire, but actually expected people to be able to believe in Hal’s transformation into Henry V.

17

I’m with Chronos. Hal is a good fighter because he’s (1) royal, and (2) a good guy. In Shakespeare’s world, that makes him a superior human.

(For the record, I played Douglas in a production a few years ago. I got to head-butt one of my opponents in the middle of a broadsword fight. :))