This is not the text of Henry V as written by Shakespeare. It is an acting version produced by Charles Kean in 1859. Approximate scene correspondences are listed at the end of the e-text. The original text had three types of notes. Footnotes, marked with asterisks or numbers, were printed at the bottom of the page. Longer notes, marked with letters, were printed at the end of each Act as “Historical Notes”. For this e-text the footnotes are collected at the end of the text; the Historical Notes remain in their original location, as does the Interlude between Acts IV and V (printed as a very long asterisked footnote). The original numbering has been retained, with added Act references to eliminate ambiguity. decoration decoration SHAKESPEARE’S PLAY OFKING |
King Henry the Fifth, | Mr. CHARLES KEAN. | ||
| Mr. DALY. Miss DALY. | ||
Duke of Exeter (Uncle to the King) | Mr. COOPER. | ||
Duke of York (Cousin to the King) | Mr. FLEMING. | ||
Earl of Salisbury, | Mr. WILSON. | ||
Earl of Westmoreland, | Mr. COLLETT. | ||
Earl of Warwick, | Mr. WARREN. | ||
Archbishop of Canterbury, | Mr. H. MELLON. | ||
Bishop of Ely, | Mr. F. COOKE. | ||
| Mr. T. W. EDMONDS. Mr. CORMACK. Mr. STOAKES. | ||
| Mr. GRAHAM. Mr. G. EVERETT. Mr. MEADOWS. | ||
| Mr. DODSWORTH. Mr. RYDER. | ||
| Mr. J. MORRIS. Mr. H. SAKER. Mr. FRANK MATTHEWS. | ||
Boy (Servant to them) | Miss KATE TERRY. | ||
English Herald, | Mr. COLLIER. | ||
Chorus, | Mrs. CHARLES KEAN. | ||
Charles the Sixth (King of France) | Mr. TERRY. | ||
Lewis (the Dauphin) | Mr. J. F. CATHCART. | ||
Duke of Burgundy, | Mr. ROLLESTON. | ||
Duke of Orleans, | Mr. BRAZIER. | ||
Duke of Bourbon, | Mr. JAMES. | ||
The Constable of France, | Mr. RAYMOND. | ||
| Mr. WALTERS. Mr. RICHARDSON. | ||
Governor of Harfleur, | Mr. PAULO. | ||
Montjoy (French Herald) | Mr. BARSBY. | ||
Isabel (Queen of France) | Miss MURRAY. | ||
Katharine (Daughter of Charles and Isabel) | Miss CHAPMAN. | ||
Quickly (Pistol’s Wife, a Hostess) | Mrs. W. DALY. | ||
Lords, Ladies, Officers, French and English Soldiers, Messengers, and Attendants. |
The SCENE, at the Beginning of the Play, lies in England; but afterwards in France.
STAGE DIRECTIONS.
R.H. means Right Hand; L.H. Left Hand; U.E. Upper Entrance. R.H.C. Enters through the centre from the Right Hand; L.H.C. Enters through the centre from the Left Hand.
RELATIVE POSITIONS OF THE PERFORMERS WHEN ON THE STAGE.
R. means on the Right Side of the Stage; L. on the Left Side of the Stage; C. Centre of the Stage; R.C. Right Centre of the Stage; L.C. Left Centre of the Stage.
--> The reader is supposed to be on the Stage, facing the Audience.
The Scenery Painted by Mr. GRIEVE and Mr. TELBIN,
Assisted by Mr. W. GORDON, Mr. F. LLOYDS,
Mr. CUTHBERT, Mr. DAYES, Mr. MORRIS, &c., &c.
The Music under the direction of Mr. ISAACSON.
The Dance in the Episode by Mr. CORMACK.
The Decorations and Appointments by Mr. E. W. BRADWELL.
The Dresses by Mrs. and Miss HOGGINS.
The Machinery by Mr. G. HODSDON.
Perruquier, Mr. ASPLIN, of No. 13, New Bond Street.
--> For reference to Historical Authorities indicated by Letters, see end of each Act.
PREFACE.
In the selection of my last Shakespearean revival at the Princess’s Theatre, I have been actuated by a desire to present some of the finest poetry of our great dramatic master, interwoven with a subject illustrating a most memorable era in English history. No play appears to be better adapted for this two-fold purpose than that which treats of Shakespeare’s favorite hero, and England’s favorite king—Henry the Fifth.
The period thus recalled is flattering to our national pride; and however much the general feeling of the present day may be opposed to the evils of war, there are few amongst us who can be reminded of the military renown achieved by our ancestors on the fields of Crecy, Poitiers, and Agincourt, without a glow of patriotic enthusiasm.
The political motives which induced the invasion of France in the year 1415 must be sought for in the warlike spirit of the times, and in the martial character of the English sovereign. It is sufficient for dramatic purposes that a few thousands of our countrymen, in their march through a foreign land, enfeebled by sickness and encompassed by foes, were able to subdue and scatter to the winds the multitudinous hosts of France, on whose blood-stained soil ten thousand of her bravest sons lay slain, mingled with scarcely one hundred Englishmen!
“O God, thy arm was here;—
And not to us, but to thy arm alone,
Ascribe we all.—When, without stratagem,
But in plain shock and even play of battle,
Was ever known so great and little loss
On one part and on the other?—Take it, God,
For it is only thine!”
Shakespeare in this, as in other of his dramatic histories, has closely followed Holinshed; but the light of his genius irradiates the dry pages of the chronicler. The play of Henry the Fifth is not only a poetical record of the past, but it is, as it were, “a song of triumph,” a lay of the minstrel pouring forth
The descriptive poetry assigned to the “Chorus” between the acts is retained as a peculiar feature, connecting and explaining the action as it proceeds. This singular personage, so different from the Chorus of antiquity, I have endeavoured to render instrumental to the general effect of the play; the whole being planned with a view to realise, as far as the appliances of a theatre can be exercised, the events of the extraordinary campaign so decisively closed by the great conflict of Agincourt, which ultimately placed two crowns on the brow of the conqueror, and resulted in his marriage with Katharine, the daughter of Charles the Sixth, King of France. Shakespeare does not in this instance, as in Pericles and the Winter’s Tale, assign a distinct individuality to the Chorus. For the figure of Time, under the semblance of an aged man, which has been heretofore presented, will now be substituted Clio, the muse of History. Thus, without violating consistency, an opportunity is afforded to Mrs. Charles Kean, which the play does not otherwise supply, of participating in this, the concluding revival of her husband’s management.
Between the fourth and fifth acts I have ventured to introduce, as in the case of Richard the Second, a historical episode of action, exhibiting the reception of King Henry on returning to his capital, after the French expedition.
It would be impossible to include the manifold incidents of the royal progress in one scene: neither could all the sites on which they actually took place be successively exhibited. The most prominent are, therefore, selected, and thrown into one locality—the approach to old London bridge. Our audiences have previously witnessed the procession of Bolingbroke, followed in silence by his deposed and captive predecessor. An endeavor will now be made to exhibit the heroic son of that very Bolingbroke, in his own hour of more lawful triumph, returning to the same city; while thousands gazed upon him with mingled devotion and delight, many of whom, perhaps, participated in the earlier reception of his father, sixteen years before, under such different and painful circumstances. The Victor of Agincourt is hailed, not as a successful usurper, but as a conqueror; the adored sovereign of his people; the pride
The music, under the direction of Mr. Isaacson, has been, in part, selected from such ancient airs as remain to us of, or anterior to, the date of Henry the Fifth, and, in part, composed to accord with the same period. The “Song on the Victory of Agincourt,” published at the end of Sir Harris Nicholas’s interesting narrative, and introduced in the admirable work entitled “Popular Music of the Olden Time,” by W. Chappell, F.S.A., is sung by the boy choristers in the Episode. The “Chanson Roland,” to be found in the above-named work, is also given by the entire chorus in the same scene. The Hymn of Thanksgiving, at the end of the fourth act, is supposed to be as old as A.D. 1310. To give effect to the music, fifty singers have been engaged.
As the term of my management is now drawing to a close, I may, perhaps, be permitted, in a few words, to express
After nine years of unremitting exertion as actor and director, the constant strain of mind and body warns me to retreat from a combined duty which I find beyond my strength, and in the exercise of which, neither zeal, nor devotion, nor consequent success, can continue to beguile me into a belief that the end will compensate for the many attendant troubles and anxieties. It would have been impossible, on my part, to gratify my enthusiastic wishes, in the illustration of Shakespeare, had not my previous career as an actor placed me in a position of comparative independence with regard to speculative disappointment. Wonderful as have been the yearly receipts, yet the vast sums expended—sums, I have every reason to believe, not to be paralleled in any theatre of the same capability throughout the world—make it advisable that I should now retire from the self-imposed responsibility of management, involving such a perilous outlay; and the more especially, as a building so restricted in size as the Princess’s, renders any adequate return utterly hopeless.
My earnest aim has been to promote the well-being of my Profession; and if, in any degree, I have attained so desirable an object, I trust I may not be deemed presumptuous in cherishing the belief, that my arduous struggle has won for me the honourable reward of—Public Approval.
CHARLES KEAN.
KING HENRY THE FIFTH.
Enter Chorus.
O for a muse of fire, that would ascend
The brightest heaven of invention,
A kingdom for a stage, princes to act,
And monarchs to behold the swelling scene!
Then should the warlike Harry, like himself,
Assume the port of Mars;
Leash’d in like hounds, should famine, sword, and fire,
Crouch for employment.(
The flat unraised spirit that hath dar’d
On this unworthy scaffold to bring forth
So great an object: Can this cockpit hold
The vasty fields of France? or may we cram
Upon this little stage
That did affright the air at Agincourt?
O, pardon! since a crooked figure may
Attest in little place, a million;
And let us, cyphers to this great accompt,
On your imaginary forces
Suppose within the girdle of these walls
Are now confined two mighty monarchies,
Whose high upreared and abutting fronts
The perilous narrow ocean parts asunder:
Piece out our imperfections with your thoughts;
Into a thousand parts divide one man,
And make imaginary puissance;
For ’tis your thoughts that now must deck our kings,
Carry them here and there; jumping o’er times,
Turning the accomplishment of many years
Into an hour-glass: For the which supply,
Admit me Chorus to this history;
Who, prologue-like, your humble patience pray,
Gently to hear, kindly to judge, our play.
Exit.
ACT I.
Scene I.—THE PAINTED CHAMBER IN THE ROYAL PALACE AT WESTMINSTER.
[Frequent reference is made in the Chronicles to the Painted Chamber, as the room wherein Henry V. held his councils.]
Trumpets sound.
King Henry(
K. Hen. Where is my gracious Lord of Canterbury?
Exe. (L.) Not here in presence.
K. Hen. Send for him, good uncle.
Exeter beckons to a Herald, who goes off, L.H.
West. (L.) Shall we call in the ambassador, my liege?
K. Hen. Not yet, my cousin: we would be resolv’d,
Before we hear him, of some things of weight,
That task
Re-enter Herald with the Archbishop of Canterbury,(
Cant. (R.C.) Heaven and its angels guard your sacred throne,
And make you long become it!
K. Hen.
Sure, we thank you.
My learned lord, we pray you to proceed,
And justly and religiously unfold,
Why the law Salique,(
Or should, or should not, bar us in our claim:
And Heaven forbid, my dear and faithful lord,
That you should fashion, wrest,
Or nicely charge your understanding soul
With opening titles miscreate,
Suits not in native colours with the truth.
For Heaven doth know how many, now in health,
Shall drop their blood in approbation
Of what your reverence shall incite us to.
Therefore take heed how you impawn our person,
How you awake the sleeping sword of war:
We charge you, in the name of Heaven, take heed:
Under this conjuration, speak, my lord.
Cant. (R.C.) Then hear me, gracious sovereign, and you peers,
That owe your lives, your faith, and services,
To this imperial throne.—There is no bar
To make against your highness’ claim to France
But this, which they produce from Pharamond,—
No woman shall succeed in Salique land:
Which Salique land the French unjustly gloze
To be the realm of France, and Pharamond
The founder of this law and female bar.
Yet their own authors faithfully affirm
That the land Salique lies in Germany,
Between the floods of Sala and of Elbe;
Where Charles the Great, having subdued the Saxons,
There left behind and settled certain French:
Nor did the French possess the Salique land
Until four hundred one and twenty years
After defunction of King Pharamond,
Idly supposed the founder of this law.
Besides, their writers say,
King Pepin, which deposed Childerick,
Did hold in right and title of the female:
So do the kings of France unto this day;
Howbeit they would hold up this Salique law
To bar your highness claiming from the female;
And rather choose to hide them in a net
Than amply to imbare their crooked titles
Usurp’d from you and your progenitors.
K. Hen. May I with right and conscience make this claim?
Cant. (R.C.) The sin upon my head, dread sovereign!
For in the book of Numbers is it writ,—
When the son dies, let the inheritance
Descend unto the daughter. Gracious lord,
Stand for your own; unwind your bloody flag;
Look back unto your mighty ancestors:
Go, my dread lord, to your great grandsire’s tomb,
From whom you claim; invoke his warlike spirit,
And your great uncle’s, Edward the black prince,
Who on the French ground play’d a tragedy,
Making defeat on the full power of France,
Whiles his most mighty father on a hill
Stood smiling to behold his lion’s whelp
Forage in blood of French nobility.
Ely. (R.C.) Awake remembrance of these valiant dead,
And with your puissant arm renew their feats:
You are their heir; you sit upon their throne;
The blood and courage, that renowned them,
Runs in your veins; and my thrice-puissant liege
Is in the very May-morn of his youth,
Ripe for exploits and mighty enterprises.
Exe. (L.) Your brother kings and monarchs of the earth
Do all expect that you should rouse yourself,
As did the former lions of your blood.
West. (L.) They know your grace hath cause, and means and might:
So hath your highness;
Had nobles richer and more loyal subjects,
Whose hearts have left their bodies here in England,
And lie pavilion’d in the fields of France.
Cant. O, let their bodies follow, my dear liege,
With blood, and sword, and fire to win your right:
In aid whereof we of the spiritualty
Will raise your highness such a mighty sum,
As never did the clergy at one time
Bring in to any of your ancestors.
K. Hen. We must not only arm to invade the French,
But lay down our proportions to defend
Against the Scot, who will make road upon us
With all advantages.
Cant. (R.C.) They of those marches,
Shall be a wall sufficient to defend
Our inland from the pilfering borderers.
Therefore to France, my liege.
Divide your happy England into four;
Whereof take you one quarter into France,
And you withal shall make all Gallia shake.
If we, with thrice that power left at home,
Cannot defend our own door from the dog,
Let us be worried, and our nation lose
The name of hardiness and policy.
K. Hen. Call in the messengers sent from the Dauphin.
Exit Herald with Lords, L.H.
Now are we well resolv’d; and by Heaven’s help,
And yours, the noble sinews of our power,—
France being ours, we’ll bend it to our awe,
Or break it all to pieces.
Re-enter Herald and Lords, L.H., with the Ambassador of France, French Bishops, Gentlemen, and Attendants carrying a treasure chest, L.H.
Now are we well prepar’d to know the pleasure
Of our fair cousin Dauphin; for we hear
Your greeting is from him, not from the king.
Amb. (L.C.) May it please your majesty to give us leave
Freely to render what we have in charge;
Or shall we sparingly show you far off
The Dauphin’s meaning and our embassy?
K. Hen. We are no tyrant, but a Christian king;
Therefore with frank and with uncurbed plainness
Tell us the Dauphin’s mind.
Amb.
Thus, then, in few.
Your highness, lately sending into France,
Did claim some certain dukedoms, in the right
Of your great predecessor, King Edward the Third.
In answer of which claim, the prince our master
Says,—that you savour too much of your youth;
And bids you be advis’d, there’s nought in France
That can be with a nimble galliard won;
You cannot revel into dukedoms there.
He therefore sends you, meeter for your spirit,
This tun of treasure; and, in lieu of this,
Desires you let the dukedoms that you claim
Hear no more of you. This the Dauphin speaks.
K. Hen. What treasure, uncle?
Exe. Opening the chest. Tennis-balls, my liege.(
K. Hen. We are glad the Dauphin is so pleasant with us;
His present and your pains we thank you for:
When we have match’d our rackets to these balls,
We will, in France, by Heaven’s grace, play a set
Shall strike his father’s crown into the hazard.
And we understand him well,
How he comes o’er us with our wilder days,
Not measuring what use we made of them.
But tell the Dauphin,—I will keep my state;
Be like a king, and show my soul of greatness,
When I do rouse me in my throne of France:
For I will rise there with so full a glory,
That I will dazzle all the eyes of France,
Yea, strike the Dauphin blind to look on us.
But this lies all within the will of Heaven,
To whom I do appeal; And in whose name,
Tell you the Dauphin, I am coming on,
To venge me as I may, and to put forth
My rightful hand in a well-hallow’d cause.
So, get you hence in peace; and tell the Dauphin,
His jest will savour but of shallow wit,
When thousands weep, more than did laugh at it.—
Convey them with safe conduct.—Fare you well.
Exeunt Ambassador, and Attendants, L.H.
Exe. This was a merry message.
K. Hen. We hope to make the sender blush at it.
The King rises.
Therefore, my lords, omit no happy hour
That may give furtherance to our expedition;
For we have now no thought in us but France,
Save those to Heaven, that run before our business.
Therefore let our proportions for these wars
Be soon collected, and all things thought upon
That may with reasonable swiftness add
More feathers to our wings; for, Heaven before,
We’ll chide this Dauphin at his father’s door.
The characters group round the King.
Trumpets sound.
Scene II.—EASTCHEAP, LONDON.
Enter Bardolph,(
Quick. (L.C.) Pr’ythee, honey-sweet husband, let me bring thee to Staines.
Pist. (C.) No; for my manly heart doth yearn.—
Bardolph, be blithe;—Nym, rouse thy vaunting veins;
Boy, bristle thy courage up; for Falstaff he is dead,
And we must yearn therefore.
Bard. (R.) ’Would I were with him, wheresome’er he is!
Quick. (C.) Sure, he’s in Arthur’s bosom,
Nym. (R.C.) They say he cried out of sack.
Quick. Ay, that ’a did.
Bard. And of women.
Quick. Nay, that ’a did not.
Boy. (L.) Yes, that ’a did, and said they were devils incarnate.
Quick. crosses L.C. ’A could never abide carnation;
Boy. Do you not remember, ’a saw a flea stick upon Bardolph’s nose, and ’a said it was a black soul burning in hell-fire?
Bard. Well, the fuel is gone that maintained that fire: that’s all the riches I got in his service.
Nym. Shall we shog off?
Pist. Come, let’s away.—My love, give me thy lips.
Look to my chattels and my moveables:
Let senses rule;
Trust none;
For oaths are straws, men’s faiths are wafer-cakes,
And hold-fast is the only dog,
Therefore, caveto be thy counsellor.
Go, clear thy crystals.
Crosses L.H.
Let us to France; like horse-leeches, my boys,
To suck, to suck, the very blood to suck!
Crosses R.H.
Boy. And that is but unwholesome food, they say.
Pitt. Touch her soft mouth, and march.
Bard. Farewell, hostess.
Kissing her.
Nym. I cannot kiss, that is the humour of it; but adieu.
Pist. Let housewifery appear: keep close, I thee command.
Quick. Farewell; adieu.
Exeunt Bardolph, Pistol, Nym, R.H., and Dame Quickly, L.H.
Boy. As young as I am, I have observed these three swashers. I am boy to them all three: but all they three, though they would serve me, could not be a man to me; for, indeed, three such anticks do not amount to a man. For Bardolph,—he is white-livered and red-faced; by the means whereof ’a faces it out, but fights not. For Pistol,—he hath a killing tongue and a quiet sword; by the means whereof ’a breaks words, and keeps whole weapons. For Nym,—he hath heard that men of few words are the best men; and therefore he scorns to say his prayers, lest ’a should be thought a coward: but his few bad words are match’d with as few good deeds; for ’a never broke any man’s head but his own, and that was against a post when he was drunk. They will steal any thing, and call it—purchase. They would have me as familiar with men’s pockets as their gloves or their handkerchiefs: which makes much against my manhood, if I should take from another’s pocket to put into mine; for it is plain pocketing up of wrongs. I must leave them, and seek some better service: their villainy goes against my weak stomach, and therefore I must cast it up.
Distant March heard. Exit Boy, R.H.
END OF FIRST ACT.
HISTORICAL NOTE TO CHORUS—ACT FIRST
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——should famine, sword, and fire,
Crouch for employment.]
Holinshed states that when the people of Rouen petitioned Henry V., the king replied “that the goddess of battle, called Bellona, had three handmaidens, ever of necessity attending upon her, as blood, fire, and famine.” These are probably the dogs of war mentioned in Julius CÆsar.
HISTORICAL NOTES TO ACT FIRST.
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In 1403 the Prince was engaged at the battle of Shrewsbury, where the famous Hotspur was slain, and there wounded in the face by an arrow. History states that Prince Henry became the companion of rioters and disorderly persons, and indulged in a course of life quite unworthy of his high station. There is a tradition that, under the influence of wine, he assisted his associates in robbing passengers on the highway. His being confined in prison for striking the Chief Justice, Sir William Gascoigne, is well known.
These excesses gave great uneasiness and annoyance to the king, his father, who dismissed the Prince from the office of President of his Privy Council, and appointed in his stead his second son, Thomas, Duke of Clarence. Henry was crowned King of England on the 9th April, 1413. We read in Stowe— “After his coronation King Henry called unto him all those young lords and gentlemen
This heroic king fought and won the celebrated battle of Agincourt, on the 25th October, 1415; married the Princess Katherine, daughter of Charles VI. of France and Isabella of Bavaria, his queen, in the year 1420; and died at Vincennes, near Paris, in the midst of his military glory, August 31st, 1422, in the thirty-fourth year of his age, and the tenth of his reign, leaving an infant son, who succeeded to the throne under the title of Henry VI.
The famous Whittington was for the third time Lord Mayor of London in this reign, A.D. 1419. Thomas Chaucer, son of the great poet, was speaker of the House of Commons, which granted the supplies to the king for his invasion of France.
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King Lewis XI. being counselled by certain envious persons to deface his tomb, used these, indeed, princely words:— “What honor shall it be to us, or you, to break this monument, and to pull out of the ground the bones of him, whom, in his life time, neither my father nor your progenitors, with all their puissance, were once able to make fly a foot backward? Who by his strength, policy, and wit, kept them all out of the principal dominions of France, and out of this noble Dutchy of Normandy? Wherefore I say first, God save his soul, and let his body now lie in rest, which, when he was alive, would have disquieted the proudest of us all; and for his tomb, I assure you, it is not so worthy or convenient as his honor and acts have deserved.” —Vide Sandford’s History of the Kings of England.
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“About the middle of the year 1414, Henry V., influenced by the persuasions of Chichely, Archbishop of Canterbury, by the
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