The Chorus speaks in elevated verse — soaring, painterly, apologetic about the stage's limitations. He is the play's stage manager, conscience, and hype man simultaneously. Watch for how he always acknowledges what the theatre cannot show, then asks you to imagine it anyway.
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 winged heels, as English Mercuries.
For now sits Expectation in the air,
And hides a sword from hilts unto the point
With crowns imperial, crowns, and coronets,
Promis’d to Harry and his followers.
The French, advis’d by good intelligence
Of this most dreadful preparation,
Shake in their fear, and with pale policy
Seek to divert the English purposes.
O England! model to thy inward greatness,
Like little body with a mighty heart,
What mightst 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
With treacherous crowns; and three corrupted men,
One, Richard Earl of Cambridge, and the second,
Henry Lord Scroop of Masham, and the third,
Sir Thomas Grey, knight of Northumberland,
Have, for the gilt of France,—O guilt indeed!—
Confirm’d conspiracy with fearful France;
And by their hands this grace of kings must die,
If hell and treason hold their promises,
Ere he take ship for France, and in Southampton.
Linger your patience on, and we’ll digest
The abuse of distance, force a play.
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 with our play.
But, till the King come forth, and not till then,
Unto Southampton do we shift our scene.
Now all of England's young men are excited and ready for war, And the soft pleasures of peacetime are put away. Now the weapon makers thrive, and thoughts of honor Rule alone in every man's heart. They sell their farmland now to buy horses, Following the model of the greatest Christian king, With speed like English messengers of the gods. For now Expectation sits in the air, And hides a sword from handle to point With royal crowns, crowns, and smaller crowns, Promised to Harry and all his followers. The French, warned by good intelligence Of this most terrible preparation, Shake in their fear, and with pale caution Seek to turn away the English plans. Oh England! model for all your hidden greatness, Like a small body with a mighty heart, What could you do, that honor would praise, If all your children were loyal and true! But look at your weakness! France has found in you A nest of false hearts, which he fills With bribes of money; and three corrupt men, One, Richard, Earl of Cambridge, and the second, Henry, Lord Scroop of Masham, and the third, Sir Thomas Grey, knight of Northumberland, Have, for French gold—a pun on guilt!— Confirmed their plot with fearful France; And by their hands this king of grace must die, If hell and betrayal keep their promises, Before he sails for France, and in Southampton. Wait for us, and we will make the distance seem short, Pretend a play. The payment is made; the traitors are ready; The King has left London; and the scene Now moves, good people, to Southampton. There is our playhouse, there you must sit; And from there to France we will safely carry you, And bring you back, controlling the narrow seas To give you safe passage; for, if we can, We will not make anyone sick with our play. But until the King comes out, and not before, To Southampton we move our scene.
Now every young guy in England is fired up about war, And all the soft fun of peace has been put away. Now armor makers are making money, and everyone's thinking About honor and nothing else. They're selling their farms now to buy horses, Following this amazing Christian king, Moving like Greek gods. Now everybody's expecting something big, And hiding a sword decorated With royal crowns everywhere, Promised to Harry and his whole crew. The French, warned by their spies About this scary preparation, Are freaking out, and quietly Trying to mess up the English plans. Oh England! you've got such hidden power, Like a small body with a huge heart, What could you do, that everyone would praise, If your people were all loyal and good! But look at your problem! France found Some false-hearted people in you, and he's paying them off; Three corrupt guys, One is Richard, Earl of Cambridge, second is Henry, Lord Scroop of Masham, and the third is Sir Thomas Grey, knight of Northumberland, They've taken French gold and They're plotting with France; And those guys will kill this great king, If hell and betrayal follow through, Before he even gets on a boat to France, in Southampton. Stick with us, and we'll make you feel like you're really there, It's a show. The deal's done; the traitors are ready; The King left London; and the scene Shifts to Southampton now. That's our stage, that's where you sit; From there to France we'll safely take you, And bring you back safe; if we can, We won't make anyone miserable. But until the King appears, not before, We're moving the scene to Southampton.
englands youth ready for war peace is over everyone wants honor theyre selling farms for horses expecting something huge france is scared but theyre trying to stop it anyway theres traitors in england they took french money they want the king dead but hes still leaving for france were moving to southampton wait for us
Bardolph is defined by his flaming red nose (a sign of excessive drink) and his role as the group's peacemaker-without-authority. He's not wise enough to command respect but practical enough to know that dead friends can't drink together. Watch for how he's always the one trying to lower the temperature.
Well met, Corporal Nym.
Hello, Corporal Nym. Good to see you.
Hey there, Corporal Nym! Good to see you.
hey nym hows it going
Nym's entire comic identity is the phrase 'that's the humour of it' — he says this after almost every sentence, using 'humour' as a vague catch-all that means nothing. It's Shakespeare's parody of the fashionable Elizabethan obsession with 'humours' (temperament theory). Watch for how his evasiveness is actually a form of passive aggression.
Good morrow, Lieutenant Bardolph.
Good morning, Lieutenant Bardolph.
Good morning to you, Lieutenant Bardolph.
morning bardolph
What, are Ancient Pistol and you friends yet?
Tell me, are you and Ancient Pistol friends again yet?
So are you and Pistol getting along now?
you two friends yet
For my part, I care not. I say little; but when time shall serve, there
shall be smiles; but that shall be as it may. I dare not fight, but I
will wink and hold out mine iron. It is a simple one, but what though?
It will toast cheese, and it will endure cold as another man’s sword
will; and there’s an end.
As for me, I don't care. I say very little; but when the time comes, there will be smiles; but that will be however it happens. I don't dare fight, but I will stay ready with my sword. It is a simple one, but what of it? It will toast cheese, and it will survive the cold just like any other man's sword; and that is the end of it.
Look, I don't really care. I keep quiet; but when the moment comes, we'll see. Things will happen how they happen. I'm not going to fight him, but I'll keep my blade ready. It's not fancy, but who cares? It'll work as well as anyone else's, and that's all there is to it.
i dont care keep quiet things happen when they happen ill keep my sword ready thats it
I will bestow a breakfast to make you friends; and we’ll be all three
sworn brothers to France. Let it be so, good Corporal Nym.
I will buy you breakfast to make you two friends; and we will all three swear to be like brothers when we go to France. Let's do it, Corporal Nym.
I'll treat you to breakfast and we'll all become like brothers when we go to France. Come on, Corporal Nym, let's make this happen.
ill buy breakfast well be brothers in france lets go
Faith, I will live so long as I may, that’s the certain of it; and when
I cannot live any longer, I will do as I may. That is my rest, that is
the rendezvous of it.
Well, I will stay alive as long as I am able to, and that is the certain thing; and when I cannot live anymore, I will do what I can. That is my goal, that is the point where I stop.
Look, I'll live as long as I can, that's the simple truth; and when I can't anymore, I'll do what I can. That's all there is to it.
ill live long as i can thats it when i cant anymore ill do what i can
It is certain, corporal, that he is married to Nell Quickly; and
certainly she did you wrong, for you were troth-plight to her.
It is certain, corporal, that he is married to Nell Quickly; and certainly she did you wrong, because you were promised to her.
It's a fact, corporal—he married Nell Quickly; and she definitely did you dirty because you were supposed to marry her.
hes married to nell quickly she wronged you you were engaged
I cannot tell. Things must be as they may. Men may sleep, and they may
have their throats about them at that time; and some say knives have
edges. It must be as it may. Though patience be a tired mare, yet she
will plod. There must be conclusions. Well, I cannot tell.
I cannot explain it. Things must happen as they will. Men may sleep, and they may have their swords with them at that time; and some say swords have edges. It must be as it will be. Even though patience is a tired horse, she will still move along. There must be conclusions. Well, I cannot explain it.
I can't say what will happen. Things play out how they play out. Guys might sleep, and they might have weapons near them; and some people say weapons are sharp. It will be what it will be. Even if patience gets tired, it keeps going. Something has to end up happening. Look, I just can't tell.
things happen how they happen people have weapons sharps things hurt it is what it is patience wears out eventually
Here comes Ancient Pistol and his wife. Good Corporal, be patient here.
How now, mine host Pistol!
Here comes Ancient Pistol and his wife. Good Corporal, be patient here. Hello there, Master Pistol!
Here comes Pistol and his wife. Stay calm, Corporal. Well hello there, Pistol!
pistol coming with his wife stay cool nym
Pistol speaks in bombastic pseudo-theatrical verse — fragments of old heroic plays, random Latin, violent rhetoric that never leads to actual violence. He's a coward dressed in the language of bravery. Watch for how his most extravagant speeches evaporate the moment Bardolph threatens him with real consequences.
Base tike, call’st thou me host?
Now, by this hand, I swear I scorn the term;
Nor shall my Nell keep lodgers.
You base dog, do you call me innkeeper? Now, by my hand, I scorn that name; Nor will my Nell keep lodgers.
You low dog, are you calling me an innkeeper? Listen, by my hand, I hate that title; My Nell isn't going to run a boarding house.
dont call me innkeeper i hate that mynell isnt doing that
Sir John Falstaff never appears in Henry V, and Shakespeare apparently felt he had to explain this to his audience — the Epilogue to Henry IV Part 2 explicitly promised 'our humble author will continue the story with Sir John in it.' That promise wasn't kept, and we don't know exactly why. What we get instead is this scene's offstage death: Falstaff sick, feverish, his heart broken by the king who used to love him. The decision to kill Falstaff off-screen is dramatically brilliant. If he appeared, the play would have to deal with him directly — and Henry can't be the kind of hero this play needs him to be while Falstaff is standing there as a reminder of the rejection. Instead, he haunts the play as an absence. Every comic scene with Pistol, Nym, and Bardolph is, implicitly, a diminished version of the scenes we should have had with Falstaff at the center.
Nell Quickly (now Pistol's wife) is one of Shakespeare's great comic creations: warm-hearted, verbally chaotic, and utterly unaware of her own malapropisms. She means everything well and understands very little. Watch for how her speech is full of accidental double meanings that she never notices.
No, by my troth, not long; for we cannot lodge and board a dozen or
fourteen gentlewomen that live honestly by the prick of their needles,
but it will be thought we keep a bawdy house straight. [_Nym and Pistol
draw._] O well a day, Lady, if he be not drawn now! We shall see wilful
adultery and murder committed.
No, by my faith, not for long; because we cannot house and feed a dozen or fourteen ladies who live decently by sewing, without it being thought we run a place of prostitution. [_Nym and Pistol draw their swords._] Oh dear, lady, if he is not armed now! We will see violence and murder happen.
No, honestly, not at all; because if we house and feed a dozen ladies who earn honest money with needlework, people will think we're running a brothel. [_They start drawing swords._] Oh my God, lady, he's armed! This is going to get ugly and someone's going to die.
cant house that many women theyd think its a brothel oh god theyre drawing weapons someones dying
Good Lieutenant! good corporal! offer nothing here.
Good Lieutenant! Good Corporal! Don't do anything here.
Hold on, Lieutenant! Corporal! Stop it!
no no no stop it both of you
Pish!
Pish!
Pish!
Pish!
Pish for thee, Iceland dog! thou prick-ear’d cur of Iceland!
Shame on you, Iceland dog! You pointed-eared mutt from Iceland!
Get away, you stinky dog! You sharp-eared monster from Iceland!
you iceland dog pointed ears get out
Good Corporal Nym, show thy valour, and put up your sword.
Good Corporal Nym, show your courage, and put away your sword.
Corporal Nym, show some backbone and put that sword away.
nym be brave put your sword down
Will you shog off? I would have you _solus_.
Will you get out of here? I want you alone.
Will you leave? I want him alone.
get out alone
_Solus_, egregious dog! O viper vile!
The _solus_ in thy most mervailous face;
The _solus_ in thy teeth, and in thy throat,
And in thy hateful lungs, yea, in thy maw, perdy,
And, which is worse, within thy nasty mouth!
I do retort the _solus_ in thy bowels;
For I can take, and Pistol’s cock is up,
And flashing fire will follow.
Alone, you horrible dog! Oh vile snake! Shame on you in your filthy face; Shame on you in your teeth, and in your throat, And in your hateful lungs, yes, in your mouth, dammit, And, which is worse, within your nasty mouth! I throw that same shame back in your guts; For I can fight, and Pistol is ready, And flashing fire will come next.
Alone, you nasty dog! You disgusting snake! Your face is disgusting; Your teeth are gross, your throat is gross, Your lungs are hateful, yes, your mouth is nasty, And worst of all, inside your disgusting mouth! I throw all that back at your insides; Because I can fight, and I'm ready, And I'll burn you next.
youre disgusting face teeth throat lungs mouth all gross im ready to fight fire coming
I am not Barbason; you cannot conjure me. I have an humour to knock you
indifferently well. If you grow foul with me, Pistol, I will scour you
with my rapier, as I may, in fair terms. If you would walk off, I would
prick your guts a little, in good terms, as I may; and that’s the
humour of it.
I am not a demon; you cannot control me. I have the desire to beat you pretty well. If you get angry with me, Pistol, I will attack you with my sword, as best I can, fairly. If you would walk away, I would stab you in the guts a little bit, in a civilized way, as best I can; and that's how I feel about it.
I'm not some demon you can conjure up. I'm willing to punch you really well. If you start something with me, Pistol, I'll slash at you with my sword, and I'll do it fair and square. If you'd just leave, I'd poke you in the gut, nice and polite like, and that's how I feel.
youre not magic i can beat you if you fight im slashing if you leave ill stab you still civilized like
O braggart vile and damned furious wight!
The grave doth gape, and doting death is near,
Therefore exhale.
Oh you loud bragger and cursed angry guy! The grave is opening, and death is coming near, So breathe your last.
You loud-mouthed jerk and angry fool! The grave is waiting, and death is coming, So say goodbye.
youre loud and angry grave waits deaths coming
Hear me, hear me what I say. He that strikes the first stroke I’ll run
him up to the hilts, as I am a soldier.
Listen to me, listen to me. Whoever throws the first punch I will run through with my sword, as I am a soldier.
Hold up, listen. Whoever strikes first, I'll run them through with my blade, I swear it.
first one to hit gets stabbed by me
An oath of mickle might; and fury shall abate.
Give me thy fist, thy fore-foot to me give.
Thy spirits are most tall.
A powerful oath; and fury will go away. Give me your fist, give me your hand. Your courage is very great.
That's a serious oath; and I'm calming down. Give me your fist, come on. You're impressive.
serious oath im calm now shake
I will cut thy throat, one time or other, in fair terms: that is the
humour of it.
I will cut your throat, one time or another, in a fair way: that is what I think.
I'll slit your throat sometime, fair and square: that's what I figure.
im still cutting your throat fair fight thats my plan
The Chorus of Henry V is one of Shakespeare's most ambitious dramatic experiments. He appears six times — once before each act and once at the end — to apologize for the theatre's inadequacy, to describe what the stage can't show, and to move the action across geography and time. This is theatre being extremely self-conscious about its own limitations. The Globe had no way to show a fleet of ships, a French landscape, or an army of thousands. Instead of pretending otherwise, Shakespeare makes the limitation part of the play's aesthetic. 'Piece out our imperfections with your thoughts,' the Chorus says. The audience is asked to be co-creators, to imagine what the stage cannot provide. This turns a limitation into an artistic choice — and the Chorus's apologies are tinged with the pride of a playwright who knows exactly what he's doing.
“Couple a gorge!”
That is the word. I thee defy again.
O hound of Crete, think’st thou my spouse to get?
No! to the spital go,
And from the powdering tub of infamy
Fetch forth the lazar kite of Cressid’s kind,
Doll Tearsheet she by name, and her espouse.
I have, and I will hold, the quondam Quickly
For the only she; and _pauca_, there’s enough.
Go to.
"Let's kill!" That is the word. I challenge you again. Oh dog from Crete, you think you will get my wife? No! Go to the hospital, And from the place where dirty people are treated Fetch that miserable trash of Cressida's type, Doll Tearsheet she is called, and marry her. I have, and I will keep, the old Quickly For myself; and enough, that is all. Let it be.
"Let's kill!" That's the word. I'm challenging you again. You Cretan dog, you think you'll steal my wife? No! Go to the hospital, And get that diseased woman Who's like that famous harlot, Doll Tearsheet, and marry her yourself. I have Quickly, and I'm keeping her For me; and that's all. End of story.
lets fight stop trying to steal my wife go get doll tearsheet quickly is mine
Mine host Pistol, you must come to my master, and you, hostess. He is
very sick, and would to bed. Good Bardolph, put thy face between his
sheets, and do the office of a warming-pan. Faith, he’s very ill.
Master Pistol, you need to come to my master, and you too, hostess. He is very sick, and wants to go to bed. Good Bardolph, put your face between his sheets and work as a body warmer. Seriously, he is very ill.
Pistol, you and the hostess need to get back to my master. He's really sick and needs to sleep. Bardolph, lay on his sheets and warm him up. He's in bad shape.
pistol and hostess master really sick needs bed bardolph go warm him
Away, you rogue!
Away, you rogue!
Away, you rogue!
Away, you rogue!
By my troth, he’ll yield the crow a pudding one of these days.
The King has kill’d his heart.
Good husband, come home presently.
By my faith, he will give a meal to a crow one of these days. The King has broken his heart. Good husband, come home right now.
Honestly, he's going to die soon—food for the birds. The King destroyed him. Husband, get back here now.
hes dying king broke his heart come home
Come, shall I make you two friends? We must to France together; why the
devil should we keep knives to cut one another’s throats?
Come on, should I make you two friends? We have to go to France together; why in the world would we keep swords to cut one another's throats?
Come on, let me make you two friends already. We're fighting in France together; why would we want to kill each other?
be friends were fighting france together stop killing each other
Let floods o’erswell, and fiends for food howl on!
Let waters flood everything, and demons howl for food!
Let floods come and devils scream!
chaos devils everywhere
You’ll pay me the eight shillings I won of you at betting?
Will you pay me back the eight shillings I won from you at gambling?
Are you going to pay me back those eight shillings you lost to me?
pay me my eight shillings from our bet
Base is the slave that pays.
It is low for a man to pay a debt.
A guy who pays what he owes is a coward.
paying debts is weak
That now I will have: that’s the humour of it.
I will have my money now: that's what I think.
I want my money right now: that's the deal.
pay me now thats the deal
As manhood shall compound. Push home.
As honor requires, we will settle this. Come at me.
We'll take care of this properly. Bring it on.
honor demands it let's fight
Pistol, Nym, and Bardolph are the play's counter-argument to its own heroism. Every time the play builds toward something grand — Henry's speeches, the great battles, the religious invocations — these three are somewhere nearby stealing, bickering, and running away from danger. They are not evil; they are simply ordinary. They go to war because they have nowhere else to go, they steal because they're poor, and they brag because it costs nothing. In a play that asks us to believe in heroic war, they are the reminder that most of the men in that army were not Henry. They will be hanged, dispersed, and killed off one by one as the play proceeds. By the time Agincourt comes, almost all of them are gone. Their absence is as eloquent as their presence.
By this sword, he that makes the first thrust, I’ll kill him; by this
sword, I will.
By this sword, he that makes the first strike, I will kill him; by this sword, I swear it.
By my blade, whoever strikes first dies; I swear it.
first to hit dies by my sword
Sword is an oath, and oaths must have their course.
A sword is an oath, and oaths must happen.
Swearing by your sword means you have to follow through.
swearing by sword means something
Corporal Nym, and thou wilt be friends, be friends; an thou wilt not,
why, then, be enemies with me too. Prithee, put up.
Corporal Nym, if you want to be friends, be friends; or if you will not, then be enemies with me too. Please, put your weapon away.
Nym, if you want to make peace, make peace; if not, then you're my enemy too. Come on, put that weapon down.
nym friends or enemies choose put weapon down
I shall have my eight shillings I won from you at betting?
Will I get back my eight shillings I won from you at gambling?
So I'm getting my eight shillings back or what?
i get my shillings back or nah
A noble shalt thou have, and present pay;
And liquor likewise will I give to thee,
And friendship shall combine, and brotherhood.
I’ll live by Nym, and Nym shall live by me.
Is not this just? For I shall sutler be
Unto the camp, and profits will accrue.
Give me thy hand.
A silver coin you will have, and right now I will pay; And I will also give you alcohol to drink, And friendship will grow, and brotherhood will form. I will live with Nym, and Nym will live with me. Is this not fair? For I will be a merchant For the soldiers, and I will make profits. Give me your hand.
You'll get a coin right now, paid up front; I'll also buy you drinks, And we'll be friends and brothers. I'll take care of Nym, and Nym takes care of me. Isn't that perfect? I'll supply the army, And we'll both make money. Shake my hand.
coin paid now drinks on me well be brothers both make money shake
I shall have my noble?
Will I get my silver coin?
I'm getting that coin?
i get the coin right
In cash most justly paid.
In money, absolutely fairly paid.
Yes, in cash, fair and square.
cash right now
Well, then, that’s the humour of’t.
Okay, so that is how I feel about it.
Alright, that works for me.
good deal
As ever you come of women, come in quickly to Sir John.
Ah, poor heart! he is so shak’d of a burning quotidian tertian,
that it is most lamentable to behold. Sweet men, come to him.
As much as you value being born of women, come quickly to Sir John. Oh, poor heart! He is shaking from a burning fever, That it is most sad to see. Sweet men, come to him.
For God's sake, come quick to Sir John. Oh, the poor guy! He's burning up with fever, It's heartbreaking to watch. Come on, guys, go see him.
come quick to sir john hes dying fever please go
The King hath run bad humours on the knight; that’s the even of it.
The King has caused bad humors in the knight; that is how it is.
The King stressed him out; that's what happened.
king messed him up thats why
Nym, thou hast spoke the right.
His heart is fracted and corroborate.
Nym, you have said the right thing. His heart is broken and troubled.
Nym, you're right about that. His heart is shattered and broken.
youre right his heart broken
The King is a good king; but it must be as it may; he passes some
humours and careers.
The King is a good king; but it must be as it will be; he has strange moods and wild rides.
The King's a good guy; but it is what it is; he has weird moods and goes crazy.
kings good but he changes mood swings
Let us condole the knight; for, lambkins, we will live.
Let us comfort the knight; because, little lambs, we will survive.
Let's go cheer up the knight; because, friends, we're going to be okay.
comfort the knight well be fine
The Reckoning
The Chorus gives us the glorious public version: England on fire with martial ambition, men selling their farms to buy warhorses, three traitors already bought by France. Then Shakespeare cuts immediately to the back streets, where the men actually going to war are squabbling about eight shillings and a woman. The scene is hilarious and quietly devastating. Falstaff's dying offstage — the greatest comic character in the history of English drama, killed by heartbreak — and this is his funeral party: three men with swords drawn over a debt, a bawdy landlady trying to keep the peace, and a boy who'd rather be somewhere else.
If this happened today…
The military recruiter's ad shows a young man running heroically toward the horizon. Cut to: his friends in a bar parking lot. One of them slept with the other's ex, and now they're screaming at each other while a third tries to get them to calm down because they all have a 6 AM bus to basic training tomorrow. Their old mentor — the one who taught them everything — is in the hospital dying. 'The king broke his heart,' says the girlfriend. Nobody knows what to say to that.