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(B) discovered on his throne (centre)*, Bedford,(C) Gloster,(D) Exeter,(E) Warwick, Westmoreland, and others in attendance.
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 task1 our thoughts, concerning us and France.
Re-enter Herald with the Archbishop of Canterbury,(F)2 and Bishop of Ely,3 L.H. The Bishops cross to R.C.
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,(G) that they have in France,
Or should, or should not, bar us in our claim:
And Heaven forbid, my dear and faithful lord,
That you should fashion, wrest,4 or bow your reading,5
Or nicely charge your understanding soul6
With opening titles miscreate,7 whose right
Suits not in native colours with the truth.
For Heaven doth know how many, now in health,
Shall drop their blood in approbation8
Of what your reverence shall incite us to.
Therefore take heed how you impawn our person,9
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 gloze10
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 titles11
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.12
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;13 never king of England
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,14 gracious sovereign,
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.15
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;16
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.(H)
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,(I) Nym, Pistol, Mrs. Quickly, and Boy, L. 2 E.
Quick. (L.C.) Pr’ythee, honey-sweet husband, let me bring thee to Staines.17
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,18 if ever man went to Arthur’s bosom. ’A made a finer end,19 and went away, an it had been any christom child;20 ’a parted even just between twelve and one, e’en at turning o’ the tide:21 for after I saw him fumble with the sheets,22 and play with flowers, and smile upon his fingers’ ends, I knew there was but one way; for his nose was as sharp as a pen, and a’ babbled of green fields. How now, Sir John! quoth I: what, man! be of good cheer. So a’ cried out—Heaven, Heaven, Heaven! three or four times. Now I, to comfort him, bid him ’a should not think of Heaven; I hoped, there was no need to trouble himself with any such thoughts yet. So ’a bade me lay more clothes on his feet: I put my hand into the bed and felt them, and they were as cold as any stone.
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;23 ’twas a colour he never liked.
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?24 the king will be gone from Southampton.
Pist. Come, let’s away.—My love, give me thy lips.
Look to my chattels and my moveables:
Let senses rule;25 the word is, Pitch and pay;26
Trust none;
For oaths are straws, men’s faiths are wafer-cakes,
And hold-fast is the only dog,27 my duck:
Therefore, caveto be thy counsellor.28
Go, clear thy crystals.29—Yoke-fellows in arms,
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
(A)
——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
(B) King Henry on his throne,] King Henry V. was born at Monmouth, August 9th, 1388, from which place he took his surname. He was the eldest son of Henry Bolingbroke, Earl of Derby, afterwards Duke of Hereford, who was banished by King Richard the Second, and, after that monarch’s deposition, was made king of England, A.D. 1399. At eleven years of age Henry V. was a student at Queen’s College, Oxford, under the tuition of his half-uncle, Henry Beaufort, Chancellor of that university. Richard II. took the young Henry with him in his expedition to Ireland, and caused him to be imprisoned in the castle of Trym, but, when his father, the Duke of Hereford, deposed the king and obtained the crown, he was created Prince of Wales and Duke of Cornwall.
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 who were the followers of his young acts, to every one of whom he gave rich gifts, and then commanded that as many as would change their manners, as he intended to do, should abide with him at court; and to all that would persevere in their former like conversation, he gave express commandment, upon pain of their heads, never after that day to come in his presence.”
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.
(C) Bedford,] John, Duke of Bedford, was the third son of King Henry IV., and his brother, Henry V., left to him the Regency of France. He died in the year 1435. This duke was accounted one of the best generals of the royal race of Plantaganet.
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.
(D) Gloster,] Humphrey, Duke of Gloster, was the fourth son of King Henry IV., and on the death of his brother, Henry V., became Regent of England. It is generally supposed he was strangled. His death took place in the year 1446.
(E) Exeter,] Shakespeare is a little too early in giving Thomas Beaufort the title of Duke of Exeter; for when Harfleur was taken, and he was appointed governor of the town, he was only Earl of Dorset. He was not made Duke of Exeter till the year after the battle of Agincourt, November 14, 1416. Exeter was half brother to King Henry IV., being one of the sons of John of Gaunt, by Catherine Swynford.
(F) Archbishop of Canterbury,] The Archbishop’s speech in this scene, explaining King Henry’s title to the crown of France, is closely copied from Holinshed’s chronicle, page 545.
“About the middle of the year 1414, Henry V., influenced by the persuasions of Chichely, Archbishop of Canterbury, by the dying injunction of his royal father, not to allow the kingdom to remain long at peace, or more probably by those feelings of ambition, which were no less natural to his age and character, than consonant with the manners of the time in which he lived, resolved to assert that claim to the crown of France which his great grandfather, King Edward the Third, had urged with such confidence and success.” —Nicolas’s History of the Battle of Agincourt.
(G) ——the law Salique,] According to this law no woman was permitted to govern or be a Queen in her own right. The title only was allowed to the wife of the monarch. This law was imported from Germany by the warlike Franks.
(H) Tennis-balls, my liege.] Some contemporary historians affirm that the Dauphin sent Henry the contemptuous present, which has been imputed to him, intimating that such implements of play were better adapted to his dissolute character than the instruments of war, while others are silent on the subject. The circumstance of Henry’s offering to meet his enemy in single combat, affords some support to the statement that he was influenced by those personal feelings of revenge to which the Dauphin’s conduct would undoubtedly have given birth.
(I) Enter Bardolph, Nym, Pistol, Mrs. Quickly, and Boy.] These followers of Falstaff figured conspicuously through the two parts of Shakespeare’s Henry IV. Pistol is a swaggering, pompous braggadocio; Nym a boaster and a coward; and Bardolph a liar, thief, and coward, who has no wit but in his nose.
Enter Chorus
Cho. Now all the youth of England are on fire,
And silken dalliance in the wardrobe lies:
Now thrive the armourers, and honour’s thought
Reigns solely in the breast of every man:
They sell the pasture now to buy the horse;
Following the mirror of all Christian kings,
With wingéd heels, as English Mercuries;
For now sits expectation in the air.
O England!—model to thy inward greatness,
Like little body with a mighty heart,—
What might’st thou do, that honour would thee do,
Were all thy children kind and natural!
But see thy fault! France hath in thee found out
A nest of hollow bosoms, which he fills1
With treacherous crowns; and three corrupted men,—
One, Richard earl of Cambridge;2 and the second,
Henry lord Scroop of Masham,3 and the third,
Sir Thomas Grey, knight, of Northumberland,—
Have, for the gilt of France4 (O guilt, indeed!),
Confirm’d conspiracy with fearful France;(AA)
And by their hands this grace of kings5 must die,
(If hell and treason hold their promises,)
Ere he take ship for France, and in Southampton.
The back scene opens and discovers a tableau, representing the three conspirators receiving the bribe from the emissaries of France.
Linger your patience on; and well digest
The abuse of distance, while we force a play.6
The sum is paid; the traitors are agreed;
The king is set from London; and the scene
Is now transported, gentles, to Southampton,—
There is the playhouse now, there must you sit:
And thence to France shall we convey you safe,
And bring you back, charming the narrow seas
To give you gentle pass; for, if we may,
We’ll not offend one stomach7 with our play.
But, till the king come forth, and not till then,8
Unto Southampton do we shift our scene.
Exit.