The Old English Baron Essay

After reading Machiavelli’s The Prince and watching Shakespeare’s Henry V in class, one begins to notice similarities between the authors’ idea of what a “perfect king” should be. The patterns between the ideal ruler of Shakespeare and the ideal ruler of Machiavelli can be seen in numerous instances throughout this story. For the duration of this essay, I will compare the similarities in both pieces to give the reader a better understanding of how Shakespeare devised his view of what a “perfect king” should be.

The power that makes Edmund corrupt is trust. He uses the trust to manipulate and control his father for the benefit of himself. He frames his brother by composing a false letter to his father implicating a plot to kill Gloucester, that when “our father would sleep till I waked him, you should enjoy half his revenue forever.” (1, 2, 55-56) Gloucester replies with “this villain of mine comes under the prediction of mine: there’s son against father” (1, 2, 112-117) This shows that Gloucester had great faith and trust in his son Edgar. To better his plan he goes to Edgar and convinces him to run away. The thought that he would frame his own brother for the chance to gain power shows his corruption, and that he will do anything to have more power. Edmund writes another letter, except this implicates his father in a plot with France to kill The Duke of Cornwall. He does this so that “the younger rises [and] the old doth fall” (3, 4, 25) and he will become the Earl. Edmund is so corrupted and blinded by his quest for power that he is willing to jeopardize his father’s

King Henry IV must also contend with his son, Prince Hal, who’s not the honorable prince he had hoped him to be. He feels it is “an honorable spoil” not to have “a son who is the theme of honor’s tongue,” when he learns of Northumberland’s son Hotspur’s victories, which, should be “a conquest for a prince to boast of” (1.1.74,80, & 76). Pangs of jealousy strike Henry’s heart caused by the differences between his son and Northumberland’s. So much so, he wishes “it could be proved that” someone, or something, “had exchanged in cradle clothes, their sons at birth” (1.1.85-87).

For instance, it states in the novel that Edward “lived in a state of constant aspiration” (fifteen) and that “getting there, wherever it was, wasn’t the important thing: it was the battle, and the battle after that, and the war was never ending.” (fifteen) It also states that he worked and he worked (fifteen), meaning he was working instead of being with William and Sandra. Due to his low self-esteem, he used almost all his time trying to prove himself as who he wants to be, rather than playing the correct role as a good father to William and a reliable husband towards Sandra. Edward inconsiderately does not want to give up on his legacy to his son because he wants to remain the great man he is. For example, Edward “expected more” (120) back when William was born. He expected “a muted brilliance, a glow, maybe even a halo of some kind.” (120) Since William is such an ordinary child compared to Edward, he believes that his son is not worth of inheriting his identity; hence explaining why William’s knowledge of Edward is limited to a mythical and unrealistic level.

Literature of the English Restoration offers the example of a number of writers who wrote for a courtly audience: literary production, particularly in learned imitation of classical models, was part of the court culture of King Charles II. The fact of a shared model explains the remarkable similarities between “The Imperfect Enjoyment” by the Earl of Rochester and “The Disappointment” by Aphra Behn—remarkable only because readers are surprised to read one poem about male sexual impotence from the late seventeenth century, let alone two examples of this genre by well-known courtly writers. In fact, Richard Quaintance presents ten more examples by lesser-known poets as he defines the literary sub-genre of the neo-Classical “imperfect

Upon hearing this, Edmund presents himself as sympathetic and supportive towards Gloucester. After his father leaves, Edmund reveals to the reader his true intentions of betraying his father and taking his title. This abrupt transformation of attitude and objective is part of the theme of “Appearance vs Reality.” Although he appears to be loyal and innocent to Gloucester, the reality is that he is planning to overthrow Gloucester and is apathetic towards his

“Emma Woodhouse, handsome, clever, and rich, with a comfortable home and a happy disposition...”(pg.1,chap.1) lived in nineteenth century Regency England, where

“I’ve got more than enough money for my daughter. What I need is honour. I intend to make her a marquise” (226).

Edmund would have had to wait for his fathers death to obtain this new title, but his mad power of manipulation again succeeds. Also, Edmunds skill of manipulation is observed when he speaks of Goneril and Regan: To both these sisters have I sworn my love; Each jealous of the other, as the stung

Edmund, his bastard son, wants land and money that his title does not have access to. He creates a plan to fool both his father and brother. Edmund forges a letter written from the perspective of his brother, Edgar, that accuses Gloucester of being selfish and favors the possibility of his murder. After Gloucester catches Edmund reading the letter, Edmund says, “I beseech you, sir, pardon me. It is a letter / from my brother…I find it not fit for you o’erlooking” (Act 1, scene 2, lines 37-20).

As a ship is without a sail or a king with no castle, so too is a courtier without a Court lady. In "The Book of the Courtier" Baldesar Castiglione not only included a perfect courtier, he also molded his female equivalent, a Court lady. "The Courtier" itself was a step by step guide intended to instruct the young, affluent and upwardly mobile in areas of manners, learning, sport and conduct. It was published in 1528, at a high point of humanistic thought and antiquarian chivalric interest in Renaissance Italy. Often overlooked or undervalued is the discussion of the ideal Court lady, described in eloquent and perfect detail by the characters of Caesar and Magnifico, who was assigned by the Duchess to

The nobility of the Kingdom of France has been evaluated by various scholars of history. There is something to be said, however, for those who chronicled their impressions while living them in the 17th and 18th centuries. The excerpts of Charles Loyseau’s A Treatise on Orders, written in 1610, and Isabelle de Charriere’s The Nobleman, written in 1763 provide two very different glimpses on the French nobility from differing time periods. From these two accounts, it is clear that there was a marked shift in the way some viewed the nobility and their role in the operation of the French state. While Loyseau praises the nobility nearly wholeheartedly,

William Gouge’s theories on ‘domesticall duties’ would rarely have been challenged by his contemporaries. The stark reality of Tudor and Stuart England was that domestic authority laid largely with men, with very few exceptions. From religion to politics to popular literature, it was a near constant that the husband or man of the household was the one in charge. However, there were still some instances where this domestic authority lies with the wife, or is at least equal to her husband concerning certain aspects of their home, though they were few and far between. Exploring the hierarchies of early modern families, we shall see that almost every aspect of family life was determined around the idea that a man was the king of his own household realm.

In this peer-reviewed academic journal entry, Desroches reviews the book Familial Forms: Politics and Geology in Seventeenth-Century Literature by Erin Murphy. The author provided a broad summary of Murphy’s book. This brief yet detailed summary gave its readers a clear picture of seventeenth century literature and the content of Murphy’s book. One chilling and disturbing aspect of literature in that day in age is the role of the female. Desroches states that the book looked closely at family, marriage and reproduction, and “[t]his involves a close consideration of how the female gender operates or is erased, depending on how seventeenth-century writers configured the analogy and how tricky their genealogies proved to be (144).” Some seventeenth

Edmund’s frustration at the treatment of illegitimate children was present from the start of the play, as he exclaimed: “Why ‘bastard’?/ [..] When my mind as generous and my shape as true / As honest madam’s issue?” (I ii 6-7). He considered himself an