How Good a Guide to the Play is the Chorus in Henry V?#
Johannes Siedersleben, Oxford, July 2018
In Henry V each act is preceded by a Chorus. We will investigate the role of the Chorus, what it says and what it fails to say, and why Shakespeare might have introduced this role. Henry IV part One does without prologue or epilogue. Part Two features both, and in Henry V, the Chorus appears at the beginning of each act and at the end of the last one. One reason for this proliferation is certainly the fact that Henry V is set in different locations across England and the north of France. So, some explication is needed to guide the spectator where the play geographically is, and what is happening elsewhere that cannot be displayed on scene. But in fact, the Chorus does more than that. It serves different purposes given in order of descending importance:
(a) It gives virtual stage directions to the audience, e.g. the scene is now transported to Southampton. As it is impossible to move the playhouse, or to have 10,000 soldiers fighting on scene, or to display an ocean with battleships ploughing their way through the billows, Shakespeare uses the Chorus as a means of stimulating the spectator’s imagination. A real stage direction says what is to happen on the scene, a virtual one says what is to happen in the spectator’s imagination.
(b) It sets the mood, it creates the ambiance for the upcoming act. This applies particularly to Act IV before the battle of Agincourt. It also awakes expectations and generates suspense.
(c) It fills a gap: the story is told rather than played, as in Act V, when we learn that the King is travelling from Calais to London and back to the French court.
(d) It makes announcements or gives explanations.
(e) It makes apologies: for the limited space in the playhouse, for the small number of actors, for the fact that we cannot travel in time, and also for the poor quality of the text which is certainly meant ironically.
Each appearance of the Chorus contains one or more of these elements, but the point to observe is that the prologues are all different. Some of them are a guide to the upcoming act, and others aren’t. Let us look at them one by one.
Chorus in Act I#
The Chorus begs pardon for the limited space and the small number of actors. The main point here is the definition of the play’s realm, much larger than the scene: Suppose within the girdle of these walls are now confined two mighty monarchies whose high uprearèd and abutting fronts the perilous ocean parts asunder. The prologue ends politely by asking the audience gently to hear, kindly to judge our play. It does not introduce Act I in any way: scene I.1 clearly belongs somewhere in the English court, where I.2 takes place. It is thus a prologue to the whole play rather than to the first act. The audience is left in expectation, the promises are still to be fulfilled.
Chorus in Act II#
At the end of Act I, Henry effectively declares war on France. He himself and, most likely, the audience are upset at the French after the insult by the French Ambassador. Now, as the Chorus in Act II tells us, all the youth of England are on fire. The audience is to feel how outraged the English were, and how eager to fight. And then we learn that the French are shaken in their fear, which is good. But they also seek to divert the English purposes by bribing three treacherous nobles whose names are given, which is bad. I imagine a highly partial audience, awaiting English victories and scorning the French. So, this first part of this Act’s prologue sets the mood and makes at the same time announcements about the things to come. This is followed by a virtual stage direction: The scene is to move first to Southampton and thence to France shall we convey you safe and bring you back. But against all expectations, scene II.1 is not in Southampton let alone in France, but in Eastcheap. It is probably no coincidence that the Chorus never mentions commoners by name but only anonymously if at all. The audience must wait until scene II.2 to see Henry and his entourage acting in Southampton and the traitors dispatched.
Chorus in Act III#
We now accompany the King as passengers on his trip from Southampton to Harfleur. Shakespeare excels at describing what such a trip is like: the noises you hear, the views you appreciate: You stand upon the rivage and behold a city on th’ inconstant billows dancing. Shakespeare also describes England as being guarded with grandsires, babies and old women which is not consistent with the fact that three quarters of his army have been left behind to defend England against the Scots, the Welsh and whoever else and with the St. Crispin speech when Henry mocks at gentlemen in England now abed. The Chorus now takes up an open point from scene II.4: At the French Court, Exeter demands formally the crown of France and the French King’s answer which must be negative is still due. It is the Chorus who brings the news in a somewhat concealed form: Suppose th’ ambassador from the French comes back. He does come back with an unacceptable offer, and this is the moment when the button is pushed, the war is launched: Alarum, and chambers go off – a real stage direction within a virtual one. The prologue of Act III is a good guide to scenes III.1, III.2, III.3 and III.6, all located in Harfleur and describing the victorious siege: The fatal mouths gaping on girded Harfleur will have worked satisfactorily. The Chorus doesn’t mention the remaining scenes: Scene III.4, short and almost entirely in bad French, is a bit disparate; the audience’s knowledge of French was probably next to nothing. The scene could be meant to show how strange a language the French is. Scenes III.5 and III.7 take up the thread of the French side, first mentioned in the prologue of Act II when the French are shaken by fear. They are described as cowards, feeble and braggarts at the same time, presumably much to the pleasure of the English audience.
Chorus in Act IV#
In the prologue of Act III, we were passengers on a battleship. Now, we are soldiers in a camp in the night before the all-decisive battle. Again, Shakespeare is second to none at describing what a camp is like. It is the details which count: at three o’clock in the morning we see the paly flames, the umbered faces, we hear the noise of the armourers, the noise of the cocks. One can even imagine the smell. And now comes a cold shower: the French as represented in Act III, 1 can hardly be considered a serious threat. But the Chorus tells us: The poor condemnèd English, like sacrifices, by their watchful fires sit patiently and inly ruminate the morning’s danger. What a change! They must have realized how hopelessly outnumbered they are, and that only luck and extraordinary courage can save them. But then comes Henry as a saviour: the royal captain of the ruined band walking from watch to watch, from tent to tent. Many get a little touch of Henry in the night, and thus, at least, some confidence is assured. Here again, the Chorus sets the mood: it dampens the expectations, it creates suspense like in a detective story. It is a good guide to Act IV which presents the battle of Agincourt seen from the English camp (scenes IV.1. IV.3), the French camp (scenes IV.2, IV.5) and on the battlefield itself (scenes IV.4, IV.6, IV.7, IV.8) with the English fate shifting from stern, almost desperate confidence in the St. Crispins speech in the morning to a brilliant victory in the evening.
Chorus in Act V#
After his victory, Henry is about to go to Calais, and to England then. But Act V is located in an English army base in France (scene V.1) and in the palace of the King of France (scene V.2) rather than in England. What happens in between? The Chorus represents an imaginary short act Shakespeare didn’t bother writing, with the King travelling to London, celebrating his victory and coming back to France. The audience is not part of the play as in the prologues to Acts III and IV. The Chorus fills a gap; no hint to Act V is given. There is an incongruous element: the General of our gracious Empress. The Empress is Queen Elisabeth I, and the General almost certainly the unlucky Earl of Essex. The Chorus tells us that the imagined crowds greeting him from Ireland coming, bringing rebellion broachèd on his sword would be inferior to those greeting Henry after his victory at Agincourt. Shakespeare could certainly have devised a less contrived way of describing the enthusiasm of the huge crowds celebrating Henry. And we all know that Essex never brought rebellion broachèd on his sword.
References#
The Oxford Shakespeare: Henry V, 2008