William Shakespeare's Henry IV, Part I Book

How He Lied to Her Husband:-


I seem to have lost a review of this play, a most favourite one, that I remember - vividly - writing, only a few weeks ago about this play, and while this is not the first time it has happened it is difficult to think of how it could have.

This play is one of the most delightful ones penned by the writer and it is completely unlike anything anyone (outside old British social life) might imagine. One of the most wonderful plays by Mr. Shaw, full of quite unexpected turns when one is in the world of literature but quite normal in real life, which is what makes it hilarious and sobering.

A very talented and romantic poet who is in love with a beautiful woman, who wishes nothing as much as seeing her every evening for a session of theater and dinner or at least reading poetry to her that is written for her, in praise of her exquisite beauty, and is ever ready to do anything his love might demand of him.

Only, she is married, and to a very rich man who gives her everything she could wish for materially and socially but is no romantic poet, or at any rate not a man of words. On the other hand he is not stingy about providing her with an expensive social lifestyle with dinners, parties, artists invited and theater and carriages, jewellery. And so on. Still, he is no poet. Is he literate, is hard to remember from the play. Does he appreciate her beauty more than in terms of his own pleasure, one doubts to begin with.

There is the whole setting - the very beautiful and wealthy Aurora who is married to a common businessman although able to have a social life of consorting with various artists and so forth.

And then the play begins to unfold. The husband, the very practical and very much bourgeois man who has provided his wife with everything she could ever wish for in terms of wealth and social life, has now rumoured to have found out about the poet and the wife. Someone has told the husband about the poet's writing extensive poetry every day about the wife, and the love (still platonic in fact) that is the soil for the poetry to grow from, and so on. And the wife has come to know about the husband having been informed, and she is frantic in worry about what will happen.

The poet who is in love with her, writing poems to her, willing to do anything for her, whether taking her our to theater every evening or stay in and amuse her or be shot by her husband or elope with her, whatever destiny might have in store for the love of his very exhilarated heights of romance. The poet is willing to do anything she wishes, while his own noble instinct is to accept the blame and confront the husband with the truth and walk off into the sunset with his beloved beautiful Aurora.

What comes next is the typical Shaw sequence of twists and turns that leaves one helpless in hilarious laughter while totally in sympathy with the poor poet. I have no intention of spoiling the delight of reading further by saying another word about what comes next, for those that have not read this yet. Any attempt to describe it will spoil it for the reader, so I shall desist.

Thursday, November 20, 2008.
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