Act 2, Scene 1 — Henry V — Study Shakespeare

The argument The Chorus paints England burning with war fever; then Pistol and Nym nearly stab each other over Nell Quickly — whom Pistol married — while news arrives that Falstaff is dying.

First appearance

CHORUS

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.

CHORUS ≋ verse

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 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 your inward greatness, Like little body with a mighty heart, What mightst you do, that honour would you do, Were all your children kind and natural! But see your fault! France has in you 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 the youth of England 're 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 Chr'stian kings, With winged heels, as Engl'sh Mercuries. For now sits Expectation in the air, And hides a sword from hilts unto the point With crowns imperial, crowns, and coronets, Prom's’d to Harry and h's followers. The French, adv's’d by good intelligence Of th's most dreadful preparation, Shake in their fear, and with pale policy Seek to divert the Engl'sh purposes. O England! model to your inward greatness, Like little body with a mighty heart, What mightst you do, that honour would you do, Were all your children kind and natural! But see your fault! France has in you 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 th's grace of kings must die, If hell and treason hold their prom'ses, Ere he take ship for France, and in Southampton. Linger your patience on, and we’ll digest The abuse of d'stance, force a play. The sum 's paid; the traitors 're agreed; The King 's set from London; and the scene Is now transported, gentles, to Southampton. There 's 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 the youth of england are on fire, and silken dalliance in the wardrobe l

"Have, for the gilt of France,—O guilt indeed!—" Shakespeare's only explicit pun in the Chorus speeches: 'gilt' (gold) and 'guilt' were pronounced identically. The parenthetical is the Chorus losing its composure for a moment — actually commenting on the wordplay. It's one of the few moments where the Chorus's formal register slips.

"O England! model to thy inward greatness, / Like little body with a mighty heart" This is a famous description of England — small geographically, enormous in spirit. The Chorus invokes it not as pure patriotism but with a note of reproach: England COULD be this, if only it were faithful. The three traitors are England's 'fault.'

Why it matters The Chorus sets up the traitor plot — which becomes scene 2-2 — while also establishing the gap between the heroic public narrative and the messy reality we're about to see in the tavern streets.

🎭 Dramatic irony The Chorus describes England electrified by the prospect of war — 'all the youth of England are on fire.' We then cut immediately to three men who are about to go to war primarily to steal things and collect debts. The gap between the heroic public narrative and the private reality is the play's constant irony.

Enter Corporal Nym and Lieutenant Bardolph.

First appearance

BARDOLPH

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.

BARDOLPH

Well met, Corporal Nym.

First appearance

NYM

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.

NYM

Good morrow, Lieutenant Bardolph.

BARDOLPH

What, are Ancient Pistol and you friends yet?

"Ancient Pistol" 'Ancient' is a corruption of 'ensign' — the flag-bearer's rank, the lowest commissioned officer in the army. Pistol's rank is a joke: he has the lowest possible military title and barely deserves that.

NYM

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.

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.

For my part, I c're not. I say little; but when time shall serve, there shall be smiles; but that shall be as it may. I d're not fight, but I will wink and hold out mine iron. It 's 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.

for my part, i care not. i say little; but when time shall serve, there shall be

BARDOLPH

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 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 bestow a breakfast to make you friends; and we’ll be

NYM

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.

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.

Faith, I will live so long as I may, that’s the certain of i

BARDOLPH

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, for you were troth-plight to her.

It is certain, corporal, that he is married to Nell Quickly;

NYM

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 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 tell. Things must be as they may. Men may sleep, an

Enter Pistol and Hostess.

BARDOLPH

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. How now, mine host Pistol!

Here comes Ancient Pistol and his wife. Good Corporal, be pa

First appearance

PISTOL

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.

PISTOL ≋ verse

Base tike, call’st thou me host?

Now, by this hand, I swear I scorn the term;

Nor shall my Nell keep lodgers.

Base tike, call’st you me host? Now, by this hand, I swear I scorn the term; Nor shall my Nell keep lodgers.

Base tike, call’st you me host? Now, by th's hand, I swear I scorn the term; Nor shall my Nell keep lodgers.

base tike, call’st you me host? now, by this hand, i swear i scorn the term; nor

"Base tike" 'Tike' was a mongrel dog — a serious insult. Pistol's immediate fury at being called 'host' is because it associates him with the innkeeping trade, which he considers beneath his (entirely imaginary) dignity.

First appearance

HOSTESS

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.

HOSTESS

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 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 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 P'stol draw._] O well a day, Lady, if he be not drawn now! We shall see wilful adultery and murder committed.

no, by my troth, not long; for we cannot lodge and board a dozen or fourteen gen

BARDOLPH

Good Lieutenant! good corporal! offer nothing here.

NYM

Pish!

PISTOL

Pish for thee, Iceland dog! thou prick-ear’d cur of Iceland!

Pish for you, Iceland dog! you prick-ear’d cur of Iceland!

P'sh for you, Iceland dog! you prick-ear’d cur of Iceland!

pish for you, iceland dog! you prick-ear’d cur of iceland!

"Iceland dog" Iceland dogs — small, sharp-eared spaniels imported from Iceland — were considered yappy, useless, and undignified. It was a fashionable insult in Elizabethan London for someone who makes a lot of noise without doing anything.

HOSTESS

Good Corporal Nym, show thy valour, and put up your sword.

Good Corporal Nym, show your valour, and put up your sword.

good corporal nym, show your valour, and put up your sword.

NYM

Will you shog off? I would have you _solus_.

PISTOL ≋ verse

_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.

_Solus_, egregious dog! O viper vile! The _solus_ in your most mervailous face; The _solus_ in your teeth, and in your throat, And in your hateful lungs, yes, in your maw, perdy, And, which is worse, within your nasty mouth! I do retort the _solus_ in your bowels; For I can take, and Pistol’s cock is up, And flashing fire will follow.

_Solus_, egregious dog! O viper vile! The _solus_ in your most mervailous face; The _solus_ in your teeth, and in your throat, And in your hateful lungs, yes, in your maw, perdy, And, which 's worse, within your nasty mouth! I do retort the _solus_ in your bowels; For I can take, and P'stol’s cock 's up, And flashing fire will follow.

_solus_, egregious dog! o viper vile! the _solus_ in your most mervailous face;

"Pistol's cock is up" The cock of a pistol is the firing mechanism — and obviously a pun. Pistol's speeches are riddled with sexual innuendo wrapped in military bombast, most of which he seems unaware of. The gun metaphor is his whole personality.

NYM

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 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 Barbason; you cannot conjure me. I have an humour t

PISTOL ≋ verse

O braggart vile and damned furious wight!

The grave doth gape, and doting death is near,

Therefore exhale.

O braggart vile and damned furious wight! The grave does gape, and doting death is near, Therefore exhale.

O braggart vile and damned furious wight! The grave does gape, and doting death 's near, Therefore exhale.

o braggart vile and damned furious wight! the grave does gape, and doting death

BARDOLPH

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.

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.

Hear me, hear me what I say. He that strikes the first strok

[_Draws._]

PISTOL ≋ verse

An oath of mickle might; and fury shall abate.

Give me thy fist, thy fore-foot to me give.

Thy spirits are most tall.

An oath of mickle might; and fury shall abate. Give me your fist, your fore-foot to me give. your spirits are most tall.

An oath of mickle might; and fury shall abate. Give me your f'st, your fore-foot to me give. your spirits 're most tall.

an oath of mickle might; and fury shall abate. give me your fist, your fore-foot

NYM

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 other, in fair terms: that is the humour of it.

I will cut your throat, one time or other, in fair terms: that 's the humour of it.

i will cut your throat, one time or other, in fair terms: that is the humour of

PISTOL ≋ verse

“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.

“Couple a gorge!” That is the word. I you defy again. O hound of Crete, think’st you 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.

“Couple a gorge!” That 's the word. I you defy again. O hound of Crete, think’st you 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.

“couple a gorge!” that is the word. i you defy again. o hound of crete, think’st

Enter the Boy.

BOY

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.

Mine host Pistol, you must come to my master, and you, hostess. He is very sick, and would to bed. Good Bardolph, put your face between his sheets, and do the office of a warming-pan. Faith, he’s very ill.

Mine host P'stol, you must come to my master, and you, hostess. He 's very sick, and would to bed. Good Bardolph, put your face between h's sheets, and do the office of a warming-pan. Faith, he’s very ill.

mine host pistol, you must come to my master, and you, hostess. he is very sick,

BARDOLPH

Away, you rogue!

HOSTESS

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 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 troth, he’ll yield the crow a pudding one of these day

Why it matters The most devastating three words in the scene — 'The King has killed his heart.' Henry's rejection of Falstaff in Henry IV Part 2 was the public banishment of his old friend. Nell Quickly is saying it killed him. Shakespeare never shows Falstaff's death on stage — we only get this.

↩ Callback to 2-3 Nell's 'The King has killed his heart' is confirmed in 2-3 when she describes Falstaff's actual death in one of the most moving passages in the play.

[_Exeunt Hostess and Boy._]

BARDOLPH

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, 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, shall I make you two friends? We must to France togeth

PISTOL

Let floods o’erswell, and fiends for food howl on!

NYM

You’ll pay me the eight shillings I won of you at betting?

PISTOL

Base is the slave that pays.

NYM

That now I will have: that’s the humour of it.

PISTOL

As manhood shall compound. Push home.

[_They draw._]

BARDOLPH

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 thrust, I’ll kill him; by this sword, I will.

By this sword, he that makes the first thrust, I’ll kill him

PISTOL

Sword is an oath, and oaths must have their course.

BARDOLPH

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, and you wilt be friends, be friends; an you wilt not, why, then, be enemies with me too. please, put up.

corporal nym, and you wilt be friends, be friends; an you wilt not, why, then, b

NYM

I shall have my eight shillings I won from you at betting?

PISTOL ≋ verse

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 noble shalt you have, and present pay; And liquor likewise will I give to you, 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 your hand.

A noble shalt you have, and present pay; And liquor likew'se will I give to you, And friendship shall combine, and brotherhood. I’ll live by Nym, and Nym shall live by me. Is not th's just? For I shall sutler be Unto the camp, and profits will accrue. Give me your hand.

a noble shalt you have, and present pay; and liquor likewise will i give to you,

NYM

I shall have my noble?

PISTOL

In cash most justly paid.

NYM

Well, then, that’s the humour of’t.

Enter Hostess.

HOSTESS

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 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 ever you come of women, come in quickly to Sir John. Ah,

NYM

The King hath run bad humours on the knight; that’s the even of it.

The King has run bad humours on the knight; that’s the even of it.

the king has run bad humours on the knight; that’s the even of it.

PISTOL ≋ verse

Nym, thou hast spoke the right.

His heart is fracted and corroborate.

Nym, you hast spoke the right. His heart is fracted and corroborate.

Nym, you hast spoke the right. H's heart 's fracted and corroborate.

nym, you hast spoke the right. his heart is fracted and corroborate.

NYM

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 may; he passes some humours and careers.

The King is a good king; but it must be as it may; he passes

PISTOL

Let us condole the knight; for, lambkins, we will live.

[_Exeunt._]

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.

Continue to 2.2 →