Kingship, in Shakespeare, is a brittle, hunted thing.
It cannot sit quietly on a throne. It has to constantly assert itself (and usually in an aggressive or punitive way), or it is lost.
And it’s what I call a ‘permission system’.
As soon as your subjects refuse to be ‘subject’ to your will, it’s game over. Richard II realises this as little as 200 lines into his play. When he says:
‘We were not born to sue, but to command, which since we cannot do …’2
the limits of Divine Right are exposed, and the rest is the long, painful trudge to that miserable, dark cell in Pontefract Castle.
In Richard III, the momentum runs the opposite in the opposite direction.
Edward IV’s death creates a power vacuum that can’t be filled by his eldest son, however able (and indeed, legitimate). Shakespeare’s commoners echo the wisdom of the ancients:
The best he can do at this stage is peevishly complain:
‘I want more uncles.’
Regular readers will know that I like to give Richard III a lot of slack. I believe that if he doesn’t act, he will be eliminated by those who see him as a threat – ie the Woodvilles. But the extrajudicial murder of the buffoonish Lord Hastings, taken in isolation, is a shocking moment.
Let’s look at it in a little more detail.
Remember: at this point in the play, Richard isn’t king.
Yet a nobleman is less than forthcoming in his support.
A doubt is voiced.
And Richard responds not with argument, persuasion, or rhetoric.
He commands:
‘Off with his head.’
And just like that, it happens.
No debate.
No appeal.
No delay.
No behind the scenes disobedience – we’ve been conditioned by Alice in Wonderland’s Queen of Hearts to giggle at the phrase.5
Not here.
This is what ‘absolute’ power actually means in practice.
What it means to be a king.
Not ceremony. Not crowns. Not divine right. The ability to turn a sentence into reality.
Richard becomes king by behaving as one.
And if no one resists?
If your word is already being obeyed?
Then what, exactly, is the difference?
Shakespeare’s answer to these questions is uncomfortable.
Sometimes, kingship isn’t granted.
It’s assumed—and accepted.
There’s a historical echo here, by the way.
In 1601, the Essex Rebellion attempted to turn performance into power. He discovered that, without obedience, it collapses almost instantly.
‘With fanfare […] Essex led his three hundred followers, including numerous other earls, into the City, heading for Whitehall. His hope was that the people in the street would rally to his side: there would be a joyful uprising, and together they would seize control of the capital. It was a disaster.’6
Power is not taken when you act.
It is taken when others act for you.
- ‘Heads Will Roll’, Yeah Yeah Yeahs, It’s Blitz! (2009) ↩︎
- William Shakespeare, Richard II, accessed at opensourceshakespeare.org ↩︎
- William Shakespeare, Richard III, accessed at opensourceshakespeare.org ↩︎
- King James Bible, accessed at https://www.biblesociety.org.uk/explore-the-bible/read/eng/kjv/Eccl/10/ ↩︎
- Lewis Carroll, Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland (1865) ↩︎
- Katherine Rundell, Super-Infinite: The Transformations of John Donne (2022) ↩︎
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