One of the main themes in Merchant of Venice is the concept of justice. It is often difficult to decipher within the play who is being just and who is being unjust. Early modern English perspectives on Jews complicate the issue. In the final court scene especially, readers will likely have differing views on the questions of whether Shylock was justified in seeking the literal fulfillment of his bond, whether judge Portia’s ruling was fair and accurate, and whether Antonio exacted revenge against or showed mercy toward Shylock at the end of the scene.

Cadet Will Reeves

3/8/17

Help Received: See works cited

Short Assignment on Othello

Part 1

Early modern English writers differed in their perspectives of the nature of jealousy.  Francis Bacon believed that jealousy was the result of one person loving another person to too great an extent.  For Bacon, this was not a virtuous kind of love, but a twisted love characterized by extreme sexual passion (Hall 328).  Benedetto Varchi and Robert Burton both view jealousy as an intense emotion, related to love, but not really the result of love (Hall 328).  Furthermore, Varchi believes that some kinds and groups of people, such as women, Venetians, and Africans, are by nature more prone to feeling jealous (Hall 328).

Benedetto Varchi notes that people who perceive themselves as generally inferior to other men and women are often jealous.  They are especially bitter that they are not esteemed or thought attractive by the women in their lives, and become jealous of the men and women who enjoy each other’s respect and approval (Varchi 333).  Nevertheless, Varchi concludes that jealousy is in fact a natural emotion that is actually virtuous in the appropriate context and in the appropriate quantity.  Feeling jealousy for one’s own reputation or the reputation of one’s wife are examples of circumstances where jealously is appropriate (Varchi 333-34).

Robert Burton describes the mind of a jealous man.  The jealous man is in a frenzied state.  He can never rest, but continuously views the actions of his mistress with suspicion, asking himself what may be the secret motives behind each of her seemingly insignificant words or actions (Burton 335-37).  Furthermore, his suspicions of her manifest themselves in his own actions.  He may one moment adore his mistress and speak lovingly and intimately to her, and then, after he has misinterpreted and blown out of proportion some small thing she has said or done, insult her, act violently toward her, and cast her out of his presence.  His suspicions also extend even beyond his mistress alone, and may include anyone among his own friends and family whom he suspects of becoming romantically involved with his mistress (Burton 336-37).  After discussing several options for curing this frenzied state that is jealousy, Burton concludes that a mistress’s only option is to exercise patience with her man until his jealousy subsides (Burton 337).

Francis Bacon points out that in order for a man to envy someone else, he must have someone to whom to compare himself.  A man compares himself to others who are of similar status as himself, but whom he perceives as being slightly better than himself.  For example, kings are not jealous of any one of their subjects, but instead kings are jealous of other kings.  Therefore, a man who focuses mainly on his own affairs and is not continually looking at the achievements of others is less prone to jealousy (Bacon 339).  Bacon also notes that, unlike other feelings, which arise from time to time when they are evoked by some situation, the feeling of jealousy exists constantly in man.  Bacon ultimately condemns jealousy as the most heinous emotion, and the one that best characterizes the Devil himself (Bacon 340).

Part II

The final scene of the play reflects many of these writers’ perspectives.  Othello’s unstable mental state is apparent throughout the play once he begins to buy in to Iago’s lies, but it is displayed most prominently through his interactions and conversation with Desdemona in the final scene.  Othello’s actions with Desdemona at the beginning of the scene particularly reflect Robert Burton’s description of the frenzied mind of a man who is at one moment adoring of his mistress, and at the next moment filled with contempt for her.  Even as Othello is preparing to strangle his wife to death, he cannot resist still loving her, as shown by his kisses.  The fact that he is still kissing her at line 19 and then has strangled her by line 87 is telling of his mental state.  Indeed, by the end of the scene, Othello has himself acknowledged that his own excess of love for Desdemona spurred on the feelings of jealousy that Iago kindled.  He laments, “Then you must speak /Of one that loved not wisely but too well; /Of one not easily jealous but, being wrought, /Perplexed in the extreme” (V. ii. 353-56).  These lines reflect the views of Bacon that jealousy is the result of loving another person to too great an extent.  Othello seems to believe that he loved Desdemona so much that when it was even suggested that she was being unfaithful to him, he lost his mind and thereby doomed her.  He explains this further by claiming that he is not by nature prone to jealousy, but that someone else, that is, Iago, used his own intense love for Desdemona against him (V. ii. 355).

What makes the end of the play even more disturbing is the fact that the feelings of jealousy that Iago causes to arise in Othello were actually appropriate and justified according to most early modern English writers.  (In fact, modern audiences would, in general, also view jealousy as an appropriate reaction to the suspicion that one’s spouse is being unfaithful.)  Shakespeare’s portrayal of Othello makes clear that the jealousy Othello felt was not a wicked emotion.  This portrayal of Othello is shown when Lodovico wonders aloud what he can even say to Othello, to which Othello replies, “Why, anything. /An honorable murderer, if you will, /For naught did I in hate, but all in honor” (V. ii. 301-03).  Thus, Shakespeare affirms Varchi’s proposition that jealously, in the appropriate context, is natural and justified.  It was right for Othello to be jealous when he believed that Desdemona had been unfaithful.  Thus, Iago never really did corrupt Othello’s character; he merely convinced Othello of his lies about Desdemona and Cassio.  Othello’s only fault was to believe Iago.  At the end of the play, the audience is deeply disgusted and angered by way Iago manipulated Othello.  On the other hand, the audience is actually sympathetic toward Othello, whose jealousy, which would have been justified had Iago’s rumors been true, ultimately destroys him and the lives of those he loves.

Works Cited

Bacon, Francis. The Essays or Counsels, Civil and Moral. Othello. By William Shakespeare. Ed. Kim F. Hall. Boston: Bedford/St. Martin’s, 2007. 338-40. Print.

Burton, Robert. Anatomy of Melancholy. Othello. By William Shakespeare. Ed. Kim F. Hall. Boston: Bedford/St. Martin’s, 2007. 335-37. Print.

Hall, Kim F., ed. Othello. By William Shakespeare. Boston: Bedford/St. Martin’s, 2007. Print.

Shakespeare, William. Othello. Ed. Kim F. Hall. Boston: Bedford/St. Martin’s, 2007. Print.

Varchi, Benedetto. The Blazon of Jealousy. Othello. By William Shakespeare. Ed. Kim F. Hall. Boston: Bedford/St. Martin’s, 2007. 330-34. Print.

Cadet Will Reeves

2/22/17

Help Received: See works cited

Short Assignment on The Merchant of Venice

Part 1

In sixteenth-century England, subjects’ religious faith was often intertwined with their loyalty to their monarch.  This dynamic first developed when Henry VIII ascended the throne of England, while at the same time proclaiming himself the head of the state church (Kaplan 246).  However, both Protestant and Catholic clerics believed that sincere religious faith had little to do with one’s loyalty to a particular monarch.  Clerics recognized that brute force could not produce true faith; rather, conversion was a purely spiritual experience that could only be effected by the grace of God (Kaplan 246).             Jews were not necessarily perceived unfavorably in sixteenth-century England, but the Christian majority believed that every effort should be made to convert them.  Part of this belief stemmed from the fact that according to biblical prophecy, Christ would not return until all Jews accepted Christ.  Despite this, most Christians still condemned forceful conversions of Jews, and even considered Jews to be closer to becoming true Christians than Catholics who had denounced their faith under persecution (Kaplan 246-47).  As far as the law was concerned, there were some special legal constraints placed on Jews, but they were supposed to be given legal equality with Christians in courts of law, and they were permitted to observe their religious practices to some degree.  Still, Christian monarchs mandated that Jews should listen to sermons on the Sabbath that denounced and criticized Judaism (Kaplan 247).  Yet, some Christian theologians such as Thomas Draxe warned that requiring Jews to listen to anti-Jewish sermons should not cross the line into Christians’ harsh treatment of the Jews, motivated by a sinful attitude of superiority.  Instead, Christians should let their actions speak louder than their words by living humble, righteous lives as lights to the Jewish people (Kaplan 247).

Although almost no early modern English writers supported conversion of Jews by force, in historical practice some Jews did suffer violence.  For example, in 1492, Jews in Spain were confronted with the choice of exile or converting to Christianity.  Emigrating from Spain often resulted in death due to the dangers of travel.  On the other hand, many Jews viewed converting to Christianity as an even worse fate, because apostasy meant a sort of spiritual death.  Traditional Jewish law called on Jews to accept physical death instead of converting, but Jews in early modern England accepted as legitimate the concept of outwardly converting to Christianity with the intent of continuing to observe Judaism when the opportunity arose, or of observing Judaism in private (Kaplan 247-48).

Part II

At the climax of the play, when the tables turn on Shylock in the court of law and he begins to realize that things are going to end badly for him, Antonio adds insult to injury by appearing to perform an act of mercy toward Shylock, while actually seeking to hurt him in the deepest way of which he can conceive.  Antonio disguises his forced conversion of Shylock as an act of mercy, as a response of Portia’s question of “What mercy can you render him, Antonio?” (IV. i. 373).  He coolly ignores Shylock’s plea of “A halter gratis!  Nothing else, for God’s sake” (IV. i. 374).  As Shylock literally begs for death by hanging, Antonio continues with his several demands that will place himself on the moral high ground while simultaneously allowing him to exact a piercing revenge upon his enemy.  Antonio situates his demand for Shylock’s conversion in between his two related demands concerning how Shylock’s money and possessions should go to Jessica and Lorenzo upon his death (IV. i. 375-85).  This shows that Shylock’s conversion is just one demand within a list of things intended to cause him pain.  Within the same sentence, Antonio forces Shylock to give money to, in the words of Antonio, “the gentleman /That lately stole his daughter” (IV. i. 380), and to give up his religious faith (IV. i. 382).  This is clearly not a conversion that is supposed to bring about true repentance and acceptance of Christ.  Antonio is merely using his temporary position of power over Shylock to deal as much pain to the man as possible.

Shylock may not have been the most likeable or morally upright character for most of the play. Admittedly, it is perhaps true that he valued his ducats more than his daughter, and maybe even more than his Jewish faith.  Yet, when Antonio strips him of his religious identity, the blow strikes deep.  Had Shylock never taken the time before in his life to stop and truly consider the value of his identity as a Jew, he was certainly doing so in those final moments of the play.  Distraught and dumbfounded, all he can do is say, in shock and resignation, “I am content” (IV. 1. 389).

Works Cited

Kaplan, M. Lindsay, ed. The Merchant of Venice: Cultural Contexts. By William Shakespeare. Boston: Bedford/St. Martin’s, 2002. Print.

Shakespeare, William. The Merchant of Venice. Ed. M. Lindsay Kaplan. Boston: Bedford/St. Martin’s, 2002. Print.

What has struck me the most about Henry V is how Henry’s words, decisions, and actions are so morally complicated or ambiguous. I think that Shakespeare generally portrays Henry in a favorable light, but that does not prevent him from raising questions about some of Henry’s decisions, or about the evil his father committed to assume English throne. It was interesting to see how much Henry had matured since Henry IV, to the point that the young man hanging out with the rowdy crowd in the tavern was essentially gone, replaced by a man who is not afraid to shed blood. Indeed, Henry completely cuts himself off from his old life by pushing Falstaff away for the rest of Falstaff’s life, and by having his old friend Bardolph hanged.

Cadet Will Reeves

2/10/17

Help Received: See works cited

Short Assignment on Henry V

Part 1

In his A Short Treatise of Politic Power, John Ponet expresses his belief that God has made known to man what is good and what is evil, both by implanting it in his mind, and by stating it explicitly through the Ten Commandments and the words of Christ, particularly the golden rule of treating others like one would want others to treat oneself (Ponet 182-83).  Beginning with his command to Noah to take the life of a man who commits murder, God granted man authority to formulate and enforce laws.  Along with this authority, God mandated that makers and executors of the laws hold everyone to the same standard of the law, and resist being swayed by emotions or other biases (Ponet 183).

A king, therefore, does not have absolute authority to do whatever he pleases.  He has been appointed by God to do what is good and shun what it evil, and has a duty to carry out this mission.  While the king does have the authority to establish or abolish laws that are merely practical in nature and are not rooted in issues of morality, he does not have the authority to take any action that is contrary to the laws that are in fact rooted in issues of morality, nor does he have the authority to abolish any such laws (Ponet 184-85).  Additionally, if the laws dictate that a certain man should assume the throne, and yet that man knows in his heart that he does not truly have a just claim to the throne, he must relinquish his claim and hand over the throne to its rightful owner, or else face judgment before God (Ponet 185).

Because the laws made by man are ultimately earthly manifestations of God’s law, the king as well as his subjects are obligated to submit to the laws of the kingdom (Ponet 186).  Furthermore, subjects have a moral obligation, not to obey their king himself, but to consider what is the morally right thing to do in a given situation, and to do that thing, even if it contradicts what those in positions of power have commanded.  God will judge each person based on his or her individual decisions; no one will be able to shift the blame for their evil actions by claiming that they were merely following the orders of their king (Ponet 187).  Besides God himself, a person’s first loyalty should be to his or her country as a whole, not to any one specific person within that country (Ponet 187-88).

An evil king is one who exploits his subjects, taking their wealth through heavy taxes or other means, and uses this wealth for wicked things, such as the enjoyment of prostitutes or the waging of unjust wars (Ponet 189-90).  A king, or any other person in a position of high authority who rules wickedly, will drag their subjects down with them into wickedness and ruin.  Therefore, such a person must be eliminated in order to save the majority (Ponet 191).  In this way, the king is treated no differently than his subjects with regard to the laws.  If the king violates any of the laws of the land, he should be punished accordingly, just as any of his subjects would be (Ponet 192-93).  Thus, when both the members of the ruling class and the subjects see that the laws are applied equally to everyone, those in positions of authority will rule justly, seeing to it that their subjects do what is right and benefit from their rule (Ponet 193).

Part II

The night before the final battle at Agincourt, Henry has a discussion with three soldiers, John Bates, Alexander Court, and Michael Williams, although they do not realize they are speaking with the king.  The discussion centers around the question of whether a king’s subjects are individually responsible for the morality of their actions when they are merely following the orders of their king.  Bates believes that soldiers cannot be held morally responsible for fighting for an unjust cause because it is their primary duty obey the king (IV. i. 127-30).  However, Henry makes the case that “every subject’s duty is the king’s, but every subject’s soul is his own” (IV. ii. 173).  That is, every subject must obey the king’s commands, but has a personal responsibility to act morally and work out his or her salvation with God even as he or she obeys the king’s commands.  However, it seems as though Henry skirts around the main question, which is:  What is a person to do when his or her personal duty to act morally as an individual directly conflicts with his or her duty to obey the king’s commands?  For example, of course Bardolph himself is the only one who can be considered guilty for his crime of stealing; Henry bears no blame for Bardolph’s actions.  However, consider a valiant leader in Henry’s army like Fluellen.  Fluellen appears to be a noble and virtuous soldier, but is he in fact doing evil by fighting against the French if Henry’s cause is unjust?  Ponet would claim that Fluellen should be able to discern what is morally right, and is therefore indeed personally guilty if Henry’s cause is unjust.  Henry’s response to Williams is eloquent and contains bits of truth, but Shakespeare does not give a direct answer to the question of whether Henry’s subjects will be held personally responsible before God for fighting for an unjust cause, or whether Henry will bear all the blame himself.

Henry’s soliloquy at the end of the scene relates to another issue that Ponet addressed, namely, the fact that a king should not lay claim to what is not truly his, especially in reference to laying claim to the throne of a kingdom.  Henry recognizes that his father gained possession of the crown of England through unjust means, by murdering the previous king, Richard.  Yet, he desperately begs God to look past that fact, at least for the present, and grant him victory over the French.  He seems to feel the need to justify his cause and earn God’s favor by demonstrating sorrow over Richard’s death, and by engaging in numerous charitable works (IV. i. 284-96).  Ponet would question Henry’s claim to the throne of France on two levels:  Ponet would first question whether the king of England did at that time have a legitimate claim to the throne of France.  Secondly, if the king of England did in fact have a legitimate claim to France, Ponet would question if it was Henry’s claim to make, or if it was a man in Richard’s line of succession who should be sitting on the throne of England and laying claim to the French lands.  Shakespeare answers what would be Ponet’s first question by indicating that Henry made the decision to invade France with noble intentions; that is, he truly believed he had a legitimate claim to the throne of France (even though the archbishop of Canterbury and the bishop of Ely may have lied to him).  However, Shakespeare does not really answer the second question that Ponet would ask.  While Ponet would demand that Henry hand over the English crown to the next successor in Richard’s line, Shakespeare portrays Henry as a man trying his best to do what is right, even as he does so in the shadow of his father’s evil deeds.  Shakespeare knows that Ponet is correct about the moral necessity of relinquishing the throne if one does not have a lawful claim to it, but he sympathizes with Henry, hesitating to judge him by Ponet’s strict standard, and instead seems to make an exception for him in this case.  The situation is morally complicated, because although Shakespeare shows Henry to be well-intentioned, Henry’s lawful claim to the French crown is haunted by the evil means by which his father obtained the English crown.

Works Cited

Hodgdon, Barbara, ed. The First Part of King Henry the Fourth. By William Shakespeare. Boston: Bedford Books, 1997. 179-82. Print.

Ponet, John. A Short Treatise of Politic Power. The First Part of King Henry IV. By William Shakespeare. Boston: Bedford Books, 1997. 182-94. Print.

Shakespeare, William. The Life of King Henry V. Ed. Claire McEachern. New York: Penguin Books, 1999. Print.

I was exposed to Henry V quite a bit in high school, so it was very interesting to learn of King Henry V’s backstory.  I am looking forward to reading Henry V in light of the events of Henry IV.  Particularly, I am interested in examining the leadership style of King Henry V, and exploring how his leadership style was affected by his “education” among the common folk and by his eventual transition to assume the responsibilities of his position as successor to the English crown.

Cadet Will Reeves

1/30/16

Help Received: Seek works cited

Short Assignment on Henry IV

Part 1

It was common in sixteenth-century England for the sons of the nobility who were attending college to fail to take their education very seriously.  They often became involved with groups of people who exhibited rowdy behavior and drew their attention away from their studies (Hodgdon 277-78).  In the house of Tudor, the young men received an education that was based on the code of chivalry.  They learned to fight, ride horses, and fulfill their duties in the court and in the household (Hodgdon 278).  However, social reformers began attacking this sort of education by the early sixteenth century, condemning it for teaching skills that were only useful for worthless activities of leisure.  These social reformers emphasized that education should instead equip students to benefit the economy, as well as cultivate virtues such as piety, while discouraging laziness and rowdy behavior (Hodgdon 278).

In the Book Named the Governor, Sir Thomas Elyot advocated a humanist education, rooted in classical models of education, which would instill virtue in students, thus bettering them as individuals as well as equipping them to benefit their communities (Hodgdon 278).  The Schoolmaster by Roger Ascham supported Elyot’s message, but focused more on the actual implementation of these ideals into education (Hodgdon 278).  The main emphasis on the part of these writers was that the content of students’ education is a crucial supplement to what they learn through personal experience.  It was paramount that the rulers come to know who they themselves were, as well as know those whom they were governing (Hodgdon 278).

During the Elizabethan period, humanists advanced that concept that one did not simply inherit nobility by being born of a certain bloodline, but instead could make oneself a noble through education.  Nobility of the intellect was deemed a truer nobility than nobility through blood.  Nobility of the intellect was made evident through one’s service to the community as a courtier or statesman (Hodgdon 279).  In Book of the Courtier, Baldessare Castiglione emphasized the model of the ideal man, who was skilled in athletic and combat abilities, possessed a high sense of morality and a sharp mind, maintained an excellent physical appearance, and spoke eloquently (Hodgdon 280).

Roger Ascham’s greatest concern with the characteristics of English society during his time was the disturbing absence of discipline.  In The Schoolmaster, he compares this reckless behavior and disregard for authority to the high intellect and courage of the Athenians of the classical Golden Age (Ascham 282-83).  He criticizes the fact that young boys and teenagers were being raised in a disciplined environment, but were being given an unhealthy degree of freedom throughout the latter days of their youth, when they became lustful and vain, and thus their disciplined upbringing would come to nothing (Ascham 284).  In order to combat this disobedience, noblemen must make suitable laws for their society, as well as exercise self-discipline in their own personal lives (Ascham 286-87).  Furthermore, Ascham also warns against the belief of some that while education may be helpful, life experiences, interactions with different groups of people, and “street-smarts” are sufficient for youths to make wise decisions about matters of great importance.  He points out that while experiences may teach some valuable life lessons, these lessons often come at severe, even fatal, costs (287-88).  Ascham notes that he does not mean for all young noblemen to always be merely poring over books.  They should indeed engage in various athletic, artistic, and other activities (Ascham 289).  However, they may still learn perfectly well through education how to act wisely and avoid evils (Ascham 288).

Part 2

At the very beginning of Henry IV, it seems as though Shakespeare may be affirming the views on education espoused by Roger Ascham and the other social reformers.  The audience first hears of Prince Henry in the play when his father compares him to Hotspur.  The audience’s first impression of Prince Henry is that he is a young fool, pursuing the passions of his youth, and unfit to one day inherit the crown of England.  The negative first impression of Prince Henry is reinforced by the fact that he is introduced into the play by being compared to Hotspur, who is the same age as Prince Henry (in this play, at least), and yet has already accomplished significant feats that demonstrate military prowess.  Hotspur actually seems more deserving of the English crown than Prince Henry, whose claim to the crown is through his bloodline.  In fact, King Henry himself confirms this idea by lamenting to Westmorland, “Thou mak’st me sad, and mak’st me sin in envy that my lord Northumberland should be the father to so blest a son” (I. i. 77-79).  He even wishes he could show that some fairy had switched his own son with Harry Percy at birth (I. i. 85-89).  Indeed, it appears that Prince Henry has fallen into the same pattern of behavior against which Ascham and his fellow social reformers warned when the audience first meets Prince Henry in person as he lounges in a tavern with rowdy, worthless drunkards and even criminals.  He exhibits a careless attitude toward assuming the responsibilities of the king of England.  He jokes with Falstaff about appointing him as a hangman (I. ii. 47-57), and, when Falstaff tells Henry that he had earlier been trying to ignore a wise old lord who was publicly criticizing him, Henry replies nonchalantly, “Thou didst well, for wisdom cries out in the streets and no man regards it” (I. ii. 64-69).  Finally, Henry seems to display the ultimate degree of youthful foolishness by agreeing to partake in a prank involving a robbery (I. ii. 123-47).

However, Henry’s soliloquy at the end of the scene provides an early plot twist by which Shakespeare begins to challenge Ascham’s views on the education of princes.  Prince Henry proves that he does in fact possess a certain kind of wisdom, although it is certainly a different kind of wisdom than Ascham and his fellow social reformers had in mind.  His plan for building his credibility and establishing his authority as a future king is not based on those virtues that Ascham believed princes should learn through education, such as honesty and obedience.  Thus, while Prince Henry may not possess “wisdom” as Ascham would define it, Shakespeare credits him with possessing a unique kind of intelligence, especially since his plan does in fact work:  He regains some of his father’s respect by vowing to amend his ways and prove his worthiness and loyalty (III. ii. 129-59); he publicly acknowledges that his recent behavior has been contrary to the chivalric values, and seeks to not only redeem his reputation, but also save lives, by risking his own life in single combat with Hotspur (V. i. 93-100); and, he ultimately fulfills his vow by defeating Hotspur, the man whom King Henry once wished was his own son instead of Prince Henry.  The fact that Prince Henry’s plan had its intended effect on his father and even on the entire kingdom shows that Shakespeare is taking a jab at the social reformers who placed such an emphasis on a formal education based on book-learning.

Yet, while Shakespeare does praise Prince Henry’s wit, he also leaves several hints that Henry will not be able to continue with his old habits much longer.  Moreover, walking away from his former patterns of behavior may cause a degree of pain; that is, that way of living, surrounded by rowdy company, often comes with a cost, just as Ascham warned.  Specifically, Shakespeare hints that Prince Henry, now that he has brought his plan to fulfillment and redeemed his reputation, will no longer be able to have the same relationship he had enjoyed with Falstaff.  In the scene where Prince Henry pretends to be his father, and Falstaff takes on the role of Prince Henry, Falstaff jokingly warns Prince Henry not to banish him when he becomes king.  It is at that point that Prince Henry realizes that that is exactly what may happen (II. iv. 377-83).  Later plays confirm this.  Thus, while the scenes involving Falstaff and Prince Henry are comically entertaining, and while Shakespeare presents Prince Henry in an admirable light for his intelligent plan, he also acknowledges the solemn truth that the days of Prince Henry’s education have nearly drawn to a close, and the prince must be ready to assume to the grave responsibilities of the English crown very soon.

Works Cited

Ascham, Roger. The Schoolmaster. The First Part of King Henry the Fourth. By William Shakespeare. Ed. Barbara Hodgdon. Boston: Bedford Books, 1997. Print.

Hodgdon, Barbara, ed. The First Part of King Henry the Fourth. By William Shakespeare. Boston: Bedford Books, 1997. 283-91. Print.

Shakespeare, William. The First Part of King Henry the Fourth. Ed. Barbara Hodgdon. Boston: Bedford Books, 1997. Print.