IN the construction of this play, Shakespeare appears to have felt himself more than usually confined and fettered by the smallness of the theatres, and the rude state of dramatic art in his age. Participating largely in the affection borne by the English nation to the memory of Henry the Fifth, the poet deeply regretted the poor and bare nature of that medium through which his drama was to be made known to his countrymen. Although it does not rank among his best and most powerful plays, he has evidently bestowed great care upon it: he was desirous that the memory of his favourite king should be gilded by the brightest coruscations of his genius, and be embalmed in the glorious robes of imperishable poetry. Anxious to do every justice to the subject, Shakespeare, contrary to his usual custom, has adopted a Chorus, to prepare the minds of the spectators; to solicit indulgence for unavoidable imperfections in representation; and to explain what is supposed to pass between the acts of the drama. Of this innovation on the established usage of the English drama, Dr. Johnson has said "The lines given to the Chorus have many admirers; but the truth is, that in them a little may be praised, and much must be forgiven; nor can it be easily discovered why the intelligence given by the Chorus is more necessary in this play than in many others where it is omitted."

more brilliant than had been achieved even by
his brave and illustrious ancestors. The fine
description, by the Archbishop of Canterbury, of
the king's reformation and the sudden blaze of
those virtues and accomplishments which he was
not suspected to have possessed, has been aptly
applied to Shakespeare himself. Like Henry,
the wildness of his youth promised not the
brilliant performances of his manhood. With
the poet, as with the prince-
"Consideration like an angel came,

And whipp'd the offending Adam out of him;
Leaving his body as a paradise,

To envelop and contain celestial spirits."
The introductory dialogue between the two
bishops, independent of its exquisite beauty,
easily and naturally prepares us for the change
of the frolicsome idle prince to the serious and
majestic king.

As a monarch, he is drawn with great spirit and power; he is sincere, magnanimous, eloquent, and pious, though it must be confessed his piety is often of a very convenient character. His address to his army before the walls of Harfleur, is a model of military oratory, full of manly fire and enthusiasm. We can fancy the soldiers listening with set teeth, dilated nostrils, and flashing eyes, and then again following him with resistless fury to the breach in the walls of the besieged city. In his warning to the governor of Harfleur, is contained the most terribly eloquent description of war in the English language.

No

This play being chiefly the record of a single battle, a subject in itself more epic than dramatic, Shakespeare employed the former style to convey, by description, that which could not be condensed into representation. The play would In this play we hear the last of Falstaff; his be absolutely unintelligible without the accom- death is related by Mrs. Quickly. We cannot paniment of a descriptive Chorus. For instance, help feeling sad for the poor old knight, dying two years elapse between the fourth and fifth in an inn, surrounded only by rude dependents, acts--that is, between Henry's return to England and the faithful hostess, whom we respect for after the victory of Agincourt, and his second her kind attachment to him to the last. expedition to France; still, the fourth act termi-wife or child is near; no gentle kindred hand to nates in France, and the fifth commences there, which would give rise to error and confusion, if the Chorus did not play the "interim, by remembering you-'tis past." Dr. Johnson, though he was an acute critic, and, notwithstanding his occasional ill-temper with our poet, generally an appreciative one, has much underrated these speeches of the Chorus. They are interesting, vigorous, and poetical: the first eight lines of the introduction are grand and picturesque: the comparison of "warlike Harry," prepared for conquest, to Mars, with Famine, Sword, and Fire, leashed in like hounds, and crouching at his feet for employment, is a very martial and spiritstirring metaphor-a blast on war's brazen trumpet, admirably calculated to prepare the mind for the chivalric display about to be presented. The description also of the English army the night before the battle, where the sick and dispirited soldiers sit with "umbered" faces by their watch-fires, like sacrifices, is very

effective.

The poet has carefully elaborated the character of Henry: he introduces him into three dramas; carries him uncontaminated through scenes of riot and dissipation; represents him repenting his lost hours with tears of shame and affection, at the feet of his father; and, on his accession to the "golden rigol," after winning the good graces of prelates, nobility, and people, and passing undaunted through a fearful ordeal, such as would have overwhelmed many a stout heart, leaves him on a summit of military glory

do kind offices in the hour of weakness and despondency. The scene between the Welsh, Irish, and Scotch captains, each speaking in his peculiar patois, is very humorous; but these three do not amount to one Falstaff. The episode between Pistol and the French soldier, whom, by his fierce looks, he frightens into paying a good ransom for his life, is much richer: but the crown of mirth, in this play, is where the Welshman cudgels Pistol, and makes him eat his leek for having mocked him respecting it. All the group that surrounded Falstaff are here disposed of: Bardolph and Nym are hanged; the boy is killed by the flying French soldiers after the battle; Mrs. Quickly dies in the hospital; and Pistol sneaks home to disgrace and obscurity.

Although there is tragic matter enough in this play, it ends like a comedy-with a marriage of convenience. Henry espoused the princess Katharine on the 2nd of June, 1418, in the church of St. John, at Troyes. The next day, after he had given a splendid banquet, it was proposed by the French that the event should be honoured by a series of tournaments and public rejoicings. This Henry would not sanction. "I pray, " said he to the French monarch, "my lord the king to permit, and I command his servants and mine to be all ready to-morrow morning to go and lay siege to Sens, wherein are our enemies: there every man may have jousting and tourneying enough, and may give proof of his prowess; for there is no finer

prowess than that of doing justice on the wicked, in order that the poor people may breathe and live." In the exhibition of this courage, activity, and feeling for the lower orders, lay the secret of Henry's popularity. He lived four years after his marriage, a period which Shakespeare has left unrecorded; but the death of this heroic king was a scene for the poet. Still only in his thirty-fourth year-a conqueror in the full blaze of military glory-a king beloved by his people almost to idolatry-the husband of a young, beautiful, and accomplished wife, and the father of an infant son-this world was to him a demi-paradise, an earthly Eden; still he breathed his last without one complaint, and was himself calm and resigned, though all around wept as they promised to protect his wife and child. The solemn pomp displayed at his funeral was extraordinary; no such procession had hitherto attended the remains of any English

king. His funeral car was preceded and flanked by a crowd of heralds, banner-bearers, and priests clothed in white and carrying lighted torches; and it was followed by some hundreds of knights and esquires in black armour and plumes, with their lances reversed in token of mourning; while, far in the rear, travelled the young widow, with a gorgeous and numerous retinue. She, however, does not appear to have been inconsolable, for she was married again shortly after Henry's death, to a Welsh gentleman, Sir Owen Tudor, one of the handsomest men of his time. She brought him two sons, of whom the eldest, Edmund, was created Earl of Richmond; and his son afterwards ascended the English throne, under the title of Henry VII.

Henry the Fifth was produced in 1599; it was entered on the Stationers' books, August 14th, 1600; and printed in the same year.

King Henry the Fifth.

KING HENRY THE FIFTH.

Persons Represented.

DUKE OF GLOSTER, Brothers to the King.
DUKE OF BEDFORD,

DUKE OF EXETER, Uncle to the King.
DUKE OF YORK, Cousin to the King.

Boy, Servant to them. A Herald. Chorus.
CHARLES THE SIXTH, King of France.
LEWIS, the Dauphin.

DUKES OF BURGUNDY, ORLEANS, and BOURBon.
The Constable of France.

EARLS OF SALISBURY, WESTMORELAND, and RAMBURES and GRANDPRE, French Lords.
WARWICK.

ARCHBISHOP OF CANTERBURY.

BISHOP OF ELY.

EARL OF CAMBRIDGE, Conspirators against the

LORD SCROOP,

Sir THOMAS GREY,

King.

Sir THOMAS ERPINGHAM, GOWER, FLUELLEN,
MACMORRIS, JAMY, Officers in King Henry's
Army.

BATES, COURT, WILLIAMS, Soldiers in the same.
NYM, BARDOLPH, PISTOL, formerly Servants to
Falstaff, now Soldiers in the same.

Governor of Harfleur.

MONTJOY, a French Herald.
Ambassadors to the King of England.

ISABEL, Queen of France.

KATHARINE, Daughter of Charles and Isabel.
ALICE, a Lady attending on the Princess Katha-
rine.
QUICKLY, Pistol's Wife, an Hostess.

Lords, Ladies, Officers, French and English
Soldiers, Messengers, and Attendants.

SCENE. At the beginning of the Play lies in England; but afterwards wholly in France.

Enter Chorus.

Chorus.

O, FOR a muse of fire, that would ascend
The brightest heaven of invention !
A kingdom for a stage, princes to act,
And monarchs to behold the swelling scene!
Then should the warlike Harry, like himself,
Assume the port of Mars; and, at his heels,
Leash'd in like hounds, should famine, sword,
and fire,
[all,
Crouch for employment. But pardon, gentles
The flat unraised spirit, that hath dar'd,
On this unworthy scaffold, to bring forth
So great an object: Can this cockpit hold
The vasty fields of France? or may we cram
Within this wooden O, the very casques +
That did affright the air at Agincourt?
O, pardon! since a crooked figure may

An allusion to the circular form of
theatre.
+ Helmets.

+ Powers of fancy.

Attest, in little place, a million;

And let us, ciphers to this great accompt,
On your imaginary forces work:
Suppose, within the girdle of these walls
Are now confin'd two mighty monarchies,
Whose high uprear'd and abutting fronts
The perilous, narrow ocean parts asunder.
Piece out our imperfections with your thoughts;
Into a thousand parts divide one man,
And make imaginary puissance :
Think when we talk of horses, that you see
them

Printing their proud hoofs i' the receiving earth:
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,

the Admit me chorus to this history;

Who, prologue-like, your humble patience pray,
Gently to hear, kindly to judge, our play.

But taken, and impounded as a stray,
The King of Scots; whom she did send to France,
To fill King Edward's fame with prisoner kings;
And make your chronicle as rich with praise,
As is the ooze and bottom of the sea
With sunken wreck and sumless treasuries.
West. But there's a saying, very old and true,-
"If that you will France win,
Then with Scotland first begin :"
For once the eagle England being in prey,
To her unguarded nest the weasel Scot
Comes sneaking, and so sucks her princely eggs;
Playing the mouse, in absence of the cat,
To spoil and havoc more than she can eat.

Exe. It follows, then, the cat must stay at home:
Yet that is but a sad necessity;

Since we have locks to safeguard necessaries,
And pretty traps to catch the petty thieves.
While that the armed hand doth fight abroad,
The advised head defends itself at home:

For government, though high, and low, and
lower,

Put into parts, doth keep in one concent;
Congruing in a full and natural close,
Like music.

Cant.

France being ours, we'll bend it to our awe,
Or break it all to pieces: Or there we'll sit,
Ruling, in large and ample empery,? [doms;
O'er France, and all her almost kingly duke-
Or lay these bones in an unworthy urn,
Tombless, with no remembrance over them:
Either our history shall, with full mouth,
Speak freely of our acts; or else our grave,
Like Turkish mute, shall have a tongueless
Not worshipp'd with a waxen epitaph. [mouth,

Enter Ambassadors of France.

Now are we well prepared to know the pleasure
Of our fair cousin Dauphin; for, we hear,
Your greeting is from him, not from the king.
Amb. 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:

Unto whose grace our passion is as subject
As are our wretches fetter'd in our prisons:
Therefore, with frank and with uncurbed plain-
True: therefore doth heaven divide Tell us the Dauphin's mind.

The state of man in divers functions,
Setting endeavour in continual motion;
To which is fixed, as an aim or butt,
Obedience: for so work the honey bees;
Creatures, that, by a rule in nature, teach
The act of order to a peopled kingdom.
They have a king, and officers of sorts:+
Where some, like magistrates, correct at home;
Others, like merchants, venture trade abroad;
Others, like soldiers, armed in their stings,
Make boot upon the summer's velvet buds;
Which pillage they with merry march bring home
To the tent-royal of their emperor:
Who, busied in his majesty, surveys
The singing masons building roofs of gold;
The civil citizens kneading up the honey;
The poor mechanic porters crowding in
Their heavy burdens at his narrow gate;
The sad-eyed justice, with his surly hum,
Delivering o'er to executors pale

The lazy yawning drone. I this infer,-
That many things, having full reference
To one concent, may work contrariously;
As many arrows, loosed several ways,
Fly to one mark;

As many several ways meet in one town;
As many fresh streams run in one self sea;
As many lines close in the dial's centre;
So many a thousand actions, once afoot,
End in one purpose, and be all well borne
Without defeat. 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. [Dauphin.
K. Hen. Call in the messengers sent from the
[Exit an Attend. The KING ascends his Throne.
Now are we well resolv'd: and, by God's help,
And yours, the noble sinews of our power,-

[ness,

Amb.
Thus then, in few.
Your highness, lately sending into France,
Did claim some certain dukedoms, in the right
Of your great predecessor, King Edward the
Third.

In answer of which claim, the prince our master
Says, that you savour too much of your youth;
And bids you be advis'd, there's nought in
France,

That can be with a nimble galliard won;
You cannot revel into dukedoms there :
He therefore sends you, meeter for your spirit,
This tun of treasure; and, in lieu of this,
Desires you, let the dukedoms that you claim
Hear no more of you. This the Dauphin speaks.
K. Hen. What treasure, uncle?
Exe.
Tennis-balls, my liege.
K. Hen. We are glad the Dauphin is so pleasant

with us;

His present, and your pains, we thank you for:
When we have match'd our rackets to these balls,
We will, in France, by God's grace, play a set
Shall strike his father's crown into the hazard :¶
Tell him he hath made a match with such a
wrangler,

That all the courts of France will be disturb'd
With chaces.** And we understand him well
How he comes o'er us with our wilder days,
Not measuring what use we made of them.
We never valu'd this poor seat ++ of England;
And therefore, living hence,‡‡ did give ourself
To barbarous licence; As 'tis ever common,
That men are merriest when they are from home.
But tell the Dauphin,-I will keep my state;
Be like a king, and show my sail of greatness,
When I do rouse me in my throne of Erance:
For that I have laid by my majesty,
And plodded like a man for working-days;
But 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.
And tell the pleasant prince,-this mock of his
Hath turn'd his balls to gun-stones; and his soul
Shall stand sore charged for the wasteful ven-
geance

That shall fly with them: for many a thousand
widows
[bands;
Shall this his mock mock out of their dear hus-
Mock mothers from their sons, mock castles

down;