[Transcriber's Note:
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 book 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 asterisked notes are printed
immediately after their paragraph, while numbered footnotes are
collected at the end of each scene. 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.]
* * * * *
* * * *
* * * * *
Shakespeare's Play Of
KING HENRY THE FIFTH,
Arranged for Representation at
the Princess's Theatre,
with
HISTORICAL AND EXPLANATORY NOTES,
by
CHARLES KEAN, F.S.A.,
As First Performed
On MONDAY, MARCH 28th, 1859.
Entered At Stationers' Hall.
London:
Printed by John K. Chapman and Co.,
5, Shoe Lane, and Peterborough Court, Fleet Street.
PRICE ONE SHILLING.
TO BE HAD IN THE THEATRE.
DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.
[Transcriber's Note:
"Mrs. Charles Kean" was otherwise known as Ellen Tree. Throughout the
play, the Hostess is called by her Henry IV name, Mrs. Quickly.]
KING HENRY THE FIFTH, Mr. CHARLES KEAN.
DUKE OF BEDFORD, } { Mr. DALY.
DUKE OF GLOUCESTER, } { Miss DALY.
(_Brothers to the King_)
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.
EARL OF CAMBRIDGE, } { Mr. T. W. EDMONDS.
LORD SCROOP, } { Mr. CORMACK.
SIR THOMAS GREY, } { Mr. STOAKES.
(_Conspirators against the King_)
SIR THOMAS ERPINGHAM, } { Mr. GRAHAM.
GOWER, } { Mr. G. EVERETT.
FLUELLEN, } { Mr. MEADOWS.
(_Officers in King Henry's Army_)
BATES, } { Mr. DODSWORTH.
WILLIAMS, } { Mr. RYDER.
(_Soldiers in the same_)
NYM, } { Mr. J. MORRIS.
BARDOLPH, } { Mr. H. SAKER.
PISTOL, } { Mr. FRANK MATTHEWS.
(_formerly Servants to Falstaff,
now Soldiers in the same_)
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.
RAMBURES, } { Mr. WALTERS.
GRANDPRГ€, } { Mr. RICHARDSON.
(_French Lords_)
GOVERNOR OF HARFLEUR, Mr. PAULO.
MONTJOY (_French Herald_) Mr. BARSBY.
ISABEL (_Queen of France_) Miss MURRAY.
KATHARINE Miss CHAPMAN.
(_Daughter of Charles and Isabel_)
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![*] Such a
marvellous disparity might well draw forth the pious acknowledgment of
King Henry,--
"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!"
[Footnote *: The English authorities vary in their statements
from seventeen to one hundred killed. The French historian,
Monstrelet, estimates the loss of his countrymen at ten thousand
men.]
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 a pæan of victory. The gallant feats of our
forefathers are brought vividly before our eyes, inspiring sentiments
not to be excited by the mere perusal of books, reminding us of the
prowess of Englishmen in earlier days, and conveying an assurance of
what they will ever be in the hour of peril.
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 of the nation; and apparently the chosen instrument of heaven,
crowned with imperishable glory. The portrait of this great man is drawn
throughout the play with the pencil of a master-hand. The pleasantry of
the prince occasionally peeps through the dignified reserve of the
monarch, as instanced in his conversations with Fluellen, and in the
exchange of gloves with the soldier Williams. His bearing is invariably
gallant, chivalrous, and truly devout; surmounting every obstacle by his
indomitable courage; and ever in the true feeling of a christian
warrior, placing his trust in the one Supreme Power, the only Giver of
victory! The introductions made throughout the play are presented less
with a view to spectacular effect, than from a desire to render the
stage a medium of historical knowledge, as well as an illustration of
dramatic poetry. _Accuracy_, not _show_, has been my object; and where
the two coalesce, it is because the one is inseparable from the other.
The entire scene of the episode has been modelled upon the facts related
by the late Sir Harris Nicholas, in his translated copy of a highly
interesting Latin MS., accidentally discovered in the British Museum,
written by a Priest, who accompanied the English army; and giving a
detailed account of every incident, from the embarkation at Southampton
to the return to London. The author tells us himself, that he was
present at Agincourt, and "_sat on horseback with the other priests,
among the baggage, in the rear of the battle_." We have, therefore, the
evidence of an eyewitness; and by that testimony I have regulated the
general representation of this noble play, but more especially the
introductory episode.
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 my thanks for the support and
encouragement I have received. While endeavouring, to the best of my
ability and judgment, to uphold the interests of the drama in its most
exalted form, I may conscientiously assert, that I have been animated by
no selfish or commercial spirit. An enthusiast in the art to which my
life has been devoted, I have always entertained a deeply-rooted
conviction that the plan I have pursued for many seasons, might, in due
time, under fostering care, render the Stage productive of much benefit
to society at large. Impressed with a belief that the genius of
Shakespeare soars above all rivalry, that he is the most marvellous
writer the world has ever known, and that his works contain stores of
wisdom, intellectual and moral, I cannot but hope that one who has
toiled for so many years, in admiring sincerity, to spread abroad
amongst the multitude these invaluable gems, may, at least, be
considered as an honest labourer, adding his mite to the great cause of
civilisation and educational progress.
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,[1]
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;[2] and, at his heels,
Leash'd in like hounds, should famine, sword, and fire,
Crouch for employment.(A) But pardon, gentles all,
The flat unraised spirit that hath dar'd
On this unworthy scaffold to bring forth
So great an object: Can this cockpit hold[3]
The vasty fields of France? or may we cram
Upon this little stage[4] the very casques[5]
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[6] work.
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:[7]
Piece out our imperfections with your thoughts;
Into a thousand parts divide one man,[8]
And make imaginary puissance;[9]
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._
[Footnote Ic.1: _O, for a muse of fire, &c._] This goes, says
Warburton, upon the notion of the Peripatetic system, which
imagines several heavens one above another, the last and highest
of which was one of fire. It alludes, likewise, to the aspiring
nature of fire, which, by its levity, at the separation of the
chaos, took the highest seat of all the elements.]
[Footnote Ic.2: _Assume the port of Mars;_] i.e., the demeanour,
the carriage, air of Mars. From portГ©e, French.]
[Footnote Ic.3: _Can this cockpit hold_] Shakespeare probably
calls the stage a cockpit, as the most diminutive enclosure
present to his mind.]
[Footnote Ic.4: _Upon this little stage_] The original text is
"within this wooden O," in allusion, probably, to the theatre
where this history was exhibited, being, from its _circular_ form,
called _The Globe_.]
[Footnote Ic.5: _----the very +casques+_] Even the helmets, much
less the men by whom they were worn.]
[Footnote Ic.6: _----+imaginary+ forces_] _Imaginary_ for
_imaginative_, or your powers of fancy. Active and passive words
are by Shakespeare frequently confounded.]
[Footnote Ic.7: _The perilous narrow ocean parts asunder._]
_Perilous narrow_ means no more than _very narrow_. In old books
this mode of expression frequently occurs.]
[Footnote Ic.8: _Into a thousand parts divide one man,_] i.e.,
suppose every man to represent a thousand.]
[Footnote Ic.9: _----make imaginary puissance:_] i.e., imagine you
see an enemy.]
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._
[Footnote *: The throne is powdered with the letter S. This
decoration made its appearance in the reign of Henry IV., and
has been differently accounted for. The late Sir Samuel Meyrick
supposes it to be the initial letter of Henry's motto,
"Souveraine." The King's costume is copied from Strutt's "Regal
Antiquities." The dresses of the English throughout the play are
taken from the works of Strutt, Meyrick, Shaw, and Hamilton Smith.
The heraldry has been kindly supplied by Thomas Willement, Esq.,
F.S.A. The Lord Great Chamberlain carrying the sword of state is
De Vere, Earl of Oxford.]
_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[1] 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 soul[6]
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 approbation[8]
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 gloze[10]
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[11]
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._
[Footnote I.1: _----task_] Keep busied with scruples and
disquisitions.]
[Footnote I.2: _Archbishop of Canterbury,_] Henry Chichely,
a Carthusian monk, recently promoted to the see of Canterbury.]
[Footnote I.3: _Bishop of Ely._] John Fordham, consecrated 1388;
died, 1426.]
[Footnote I.4: _----wrest_,] i.e., distort.]
[Footnote I.5: _----or bow your reading_,] i.e., bend your
interpretation.]
[Footnote I.6: _Or nicely charge your understanding soul_] Take
heed, lest by nice and subtle sophistry you burthen your knowing
soul, or _knowingly burthen your soul_, with the guilt of
advancing a false title, or of maintaining, by specious fallacies,
a claim which, if shown in its native and true colours, would
appear to be false. --JOHNSON.]
[Footnote I.7: _----miscreate_,] Ill-begotten, illegitimate,
spurious.]
[Footnote I.8: _----in approbation_] i.e., in proving and
supporting that title which shall be now set up.]
[Footnote I.9: _----impawn our person_,] To engage and to pawn
were in our author's time synonymous.]
[Footnote I.10: _----gloze_] Expound, explain.]
[Footnote I.11: _----+imbare+ their crooked titles_] i.e., to lay
open, to display to view.]
[Footnote I.12: In allusion to the battle of Crecy, fought 25th
August, 1346.]
[Footnote I.13: _So hath your highness;_] i.e., your highness hath
indeed what they think and know you have.]
[Footnote I.14: _They of those +marches+,_] The _marches_ are the
borders, the confines. Hence the _Lords Marchers_, i.e., the lords
presidents of the _marches_, &c.]
[Footnote I.15: _----in few._] i.e., in short, brief.]
[Footnote I.16: _----a nimble +galliard+ won;_] A _galliard_ was
an ancient dance. The word is now obsolete.]
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.
[Footnote I.17: _----let me bring thee to Staines._] i.e., let me
attend, or accompany thee.]
[Footnote I.18: _----Arthur's bosom,_] Dame Quickly, in her usual
blundering way, mistakes Arthur for Abraham.]
[Footnote I.19: _'A made a finer end,_] To make a fine end is not
an uncommon expression for making a good end. The Hostess means
that Falstaff died with becoming resignation and patient
submission to the will of Heaven.]
[Footnote I.20: _----an it had been any christom child;_] i.e.,
child that has wore the _chrysom_, or white cloth put on a new
baptized child.]
[Footnote I.21: _----turning o' the tide:_] It has been a very old
opinion, which Mead, _de imperio solis_, quotes, as if he believed
it, that nobody dies but in the time of ebb: half the deaths in
London confute the notion; but we find that it was common among
the women of the poet's time. --JOHNSON.]
[Footnote I.22: _----I saw him fumble with the sheets,_] Pliny, in
his chapter on _the signs of death_, makes mention of "_a fumbling
and pleiting of the bed-clothes._" The same indication of
approaching death is enumerated by Celsus, Lommius, Hippocrates,
and Galen.]
[Footnote I.23: _'A could never abide carnation;_] Mrs. Quickly
blunders, mistaking the word _incarnate_ for a colour. _In
questions of Love_, published 1566, we have "_yelowe, pale, redde,
blue, whyte, gray, and incarnate._"]
[Footnote I.24: _Shall we shog off?_] i.e., shall we move off--jog
off?]
[Footnote I.25: _Let senses rule;_] i.e., let prudence govern
you--conduct yourself sensibly.]
[Footnote I.26: _----Pitch and pay;_] A familiar expression,
meaning pay down at once, pay ready money; probably throw down
your money and pay.]
[Footnote I.27: _----hold-fast is the only dog,_] Alluding to
the proverbial saying-- "Brag is a good dog, but Holdfast is a
better."]
[Footnote I.28: _----caveto be thy counsellor._] i.e., let
_prudence_ be thy counsellor.]
[Footnote I.29: _----clear thy crystals._] Dry thine eyes.]
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 wingГ©d 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 fills[1]
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 France[4] (O guilt, indeed!),
Confirm'd conspiracy with fearful France;(A)
And by their hands this grace of kings[5] 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 stomach[7] with our play.
But, till the king come forth, and not till then,[8]
Unto Southampton do we shift our scene.
[_Exit._
[Footnote IIc.1: _----which +he+ fills_] i.e., the King of
France.]
[Footnote IIc.2: _----Richard, earl of Cambridge;_] Was Richard de
Coninsbury, younger son of Edmund of Langley, Duke of York. He was
father of Richard, Duke of York, father of Edward the Fourth.]
[Footnote IIc.3: _Henry lord Scroop of Masham,_] Was third husband
of Joan Duchess of York (she had four), mother-in-law of Richard,
Earl of Cambridge.]
[Footnote IIc.4: _----the +gilt+ of France,_] i.e., _golden
money_.]
[Footnote IIc.5: _----this grace of kings_] i.e., he who does the
greatest honor to the title. By the same phraseology the usurper
in _Hamlet_ is called the _vice of kings_, i.e., the opprobrium of
them.]
[Footnote IIc.6: _----while we +force a play+._] To _force a play_
is to produce a play by compelling many circumstances into a
narrow compass.]
[Footnote IIc.7: _We'll not offend one stomach_] That is, you
shall pass the sea without the qualms of sea-sickness.]
[Footnote IIc.8: _But, till the king come forth, and not till
then,_] The meaning is, "We will not shift our scene unto
Southampton till the king makes his appearance on the stage, and
the scene will be at Southampton _only_ for the short time while
he does appear on the stage; for, soon after his appearance, it
will change to France." --MALONE.]
ACT II.
SCENE I.--COUNCIL CHAMBER IN SOUTHAMPTON CASTLE.
_EXETER, BEDFORD, and WESTMORELAND, discovered._
_Bed._ 'Fore Heaven, his grace is bold, to trust these traitors.
_Exe._ They shall be apprehended by and by.
_West._ How smooth and even they do bear themselves!
As if allegiance in their bosoms sat,
Crowned with faith and constant loyalty.
_Bed._ The king hath note of all that they intend,
By interception which they dream not of.
_Exe._ Nay, but the man that was his bedfellow,(A)
Whom he hath cloy'd and grac'd with princely favours,--
That he should, for a foreign purse, so sell
His sovereign's life to death and treachery!
_Distant Trumpets sound. Enter King HENRY, SCROOP, CAMBRIDGE,
GREY, Lords and Attendants, U.E.L.H._
_K. Hen._ Now sits the wind fair, and we will aboard.
My lord of Cambridge,--and my kind lord of Masham,--
And you, my gentle knight,--give me your thoughts:
Think you not, that the powers we bear with us
Will cut their passage through the force of France?
_Scroop._ No doubt, my liege, if each man do his best.
_K. Hen._ I doubt not that; since we are well persuaded
We carry not a heart with us from hence
That grows not in a fair consent with ours,[1]
Nor leave not one behind that doth not wish
Success and conquest to attend on us.
_Cam._ (R.) Never was monarch better fear'd and lov'd
Than is your majesty: there's not, I think, a subject
That sits in heart-grief and uneasiness
Under the sweet shade of your government.
_Grey._ (R.) Even those that were your father's enemies
Have steep'd their galls in honey, and do serve you
With hearts create[2] of duty and of zeal.
_K.Hen._ (C.) We therefore have great cause of thankfulness;
And shall forget the office of our hand,
Sooner than quittance of desert and merit
According to the weight and worthiness.
Uncle of Exeter, R.
Enlarge the man committed yesterday,
That rail'd against our person: we consider
It was excess of wine that set him on;
And, on his more advice,[3] we pardon him.
_Scroop._ (R.) That's mercy, but too much security:
Let him be punish'd, sovereign; lest example
Breed, by his sufferance, more of such a kind.
_K. Hen._ O, let us yet be merciful.
_Cam._ So may your highness, and yet punish too.
_Grey._ Sir, you show great mercy, if you give him life,
After the taste of much correction.
_K. Hen._ Alas, your too much love and care of me
Are heavy orisons 'gainst this poor wretch![4]
If little faults, proceeding on distemper,[5]
Shall not be wink'd at, how shall we stretch our eye[6]
When capital crimes, chew'd, swallow'd, and digested,
Appear before us?--We'll yet enlarge that man,
Though Cambridge, Scroop, and Grey,--in their dear care
And tender preservation of our person,--
Would have him punish'd. And now to our French causes:
[_All take their places at Council table._
Who are the late Commissioners?[7]
_Cam._ (_R. of table._) I one, my lord:
Your highness bade me ask for it to-day.
_Scroop._ (_R. of table._) So did you me, my liege.
_Grey._ (_R. of table._) And me, my royal sovereign.
_K. Hen._ Then, Richard earl of Cambridge, there is yours;--
There yours, lord Scroop of Masham;--and, sir knight,
Grey of Northumberland, this same is yours:--
Read them; and know, I know your worthiness.--
My lord of Westmoreland,--and uncle Exeter,--
[_L. of table._
We will aboard to-night.
(_Conspirators start from their places._)
Why, how now, gentlemen!
What see you in those papers, that you lose
So much complexion?--look ye, how they change!
Their cheeks are paper.--Why, what read you there,
That hath so cowarded and chas'd your blood
Out of appearance?
_Cam._ I do confess my fault;
And do submit me to your highness' mercy.
[_Falling on his knees._
_Grey._ } To which we all appeal. [_Kneeling._
_Scroop._ }
_K. Hen._ (_rising; all the LORDS rise with the KING._)
The mercy that was quick[8] in us but late,
By your own counsel is suppress'd and kill'd:
You must not dare, for shame, to talk of mercy.
See you, my princes and my noble peers,
These English monsters! My lord of Cambridge here,--
You know how apt our love was to accord
To furnish him with all appertinents
Belonging to his honour; and this man
Hath, for a few light crowns, lightly conspir'd,
And sworn unto the practises of France,
To kill us here in Hampton: to the which
This knight, no less for bounty bound to us
Than Cambridge is,--hath likewise sworn.--But, O,
What shall I say to thee, lord Scroop? thou cruel,
Ingrateful, savage, and inhuman creature!
Thou that did'st bear the key of all my counsels,
That knew'st the very bottom of my soul,
That almost might'st have coin'd me into gold,
May it be possible, that foreign hire
Could out of thee extract one spark of evil
That might annoy my finger? 'Tis so strange,
That, though the truth of it stands off as gross[9]
As black from white,[10] my eye will scarcely see it;
For this revolt of thine, methinks, is like
Another fall of man.--Their faults are open:
Arrest them to the answer of the law;--
