Last time, on Henry V…
– The Battle of Agincourt happened! (Spoiler alert: the English won.)
– But before that, King Henry V put on a BRILLIANT DISGUISE and wandered about the English camps spreading cheer and goodwill!
– He also played a hilarious and potentially deadly prank on one of his soldiers! Ha ha, oh Harry, you card!
– Then he gave the “We few, we happy few, we band of brothers…” speech!
– And all the Eastcheap crew except for Pistol died!
…and now, the thrilling conclusion.
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PROLOGUE
The Chorus informs us that after his victory in France, King Henry V went back to England for about five years before returning to France, where the play picks up again.
—
ACT V, SCENE I
Fluellen and Gower are hanging out. It’s the day after Saint Davy’s day (so, March 2nd then), but Fluellen has yet to remove his leek from his cap. What’s going on there? Turns out yesterday Pistol came up to Fluellen and told him to eat his leek. Oh dear. Now Fluellen is back for revenge.
Pistol walks by, and Fluellen stops him. Now it is Pistol who will eat a leek! Take that!
Pistol:
Not for Cadwallader and all his goats.
Wrong answer. Fluellen beats him twice with a cudgel.
Fluellen:
[…] If you can mock a leek, you can eat a leek.
Gower tells Fluellen to stop beating Pistol, while Pistol himself remains defiant…
Pistol:
By this leek, I will most horribly revenge. [Fluellen threatens him.] I eat and eat, I swear––
…for a moment, anyway. Once the leek is eaten, Fluellen gives Pistol a groat (aka four pence) as a peace offering. Pistol still swears revenge, and Fluellen threatens him with another cudgeling before leaving the scene. Pistol’s still pissed, so Gower lectures him on his mistreatment and mocking of Fluellen. Once Gower is gone, Pistol reveals his own plans for the future.
Pistol:
Doth Fortune play the huswife with me now? News have I that my Doll is dead i’ th’ spital of a malady of France, and there my rendezvous is quite cut off. Old I do wax, and from my weary limbs honor is cudgeled. Well, bawd I’ll turn, and something lean to cutpurse of quick hand. To England will I steal, and there I’ll steal.
And patches will I get unto these cudgeled scars,
And swear I got them in the Gallia wars.
Trans.: Doll Tearsheet’s dead thanks to venereal disease, and Pistol will turn to a life of thievery, claiming the wounds Fluellen just gave him are from the war in France.
…The leek-eating scene, ladies and gentlepersons.
—
ACT V, SCENE II
The lords of England meet up with the lords of France to discuss the terms of the Treaty of Troyes. Absolutely everybody who’s anybody is there, including but not limited to King Henry V, Exeter, John of Bedford (prince, badass, etc.), Warwick, Westmoreland, the French King, Queen Isabel, Princess Katherine, Alice, and the Duke of Burgundy. Everyone’s very polite and happy to see each other, which is weird, considering that whole “England just rolled in and murdered a bunch of your dudes over a crateful of tennis balls” business.
The Duke of Burgundy gives a long and moving speech about how much life in France has sucked since King Henry started invading it. He really wants peace, you guys. King Henry informs him he can have that peace, if he gives England absolutely everything they’re asking for and then some.
The French King asks for a minute to go over King Henry’s demands one more time before he acquiesces. King Henry agrees, and sends all his nobles off with the French King and Queen. King Henry himself will stay behind to keep Princess Katherine company. As soon as everyone else leaves, he starts flirting, because it’s the last scene of the last act and we completely forgot to put in the obligatory heterosexual romance between the hero and his human prize until now.
Trouble is, much like Pistol and his captive, there’s a bit of a French/English language barrier, though both King Henry and Princess Katherine are better with each other’s languages than they’ll admit. Most of King Henry’s French errors amount to misgendering nouns and verbs. For everything else, they’ve got Alice as a translator, though she’s somewhat less effective than the Boy was. (RIP)
King Henry:
O fair Katherine, if you will love me soundly with your French heart, I will be glad to hear you confess it brokenly with your English tongue. Do you like me, Kate?
Katherine:
Pardonnez-moi, I cannot tell wat is “like me.”
King Henry:
And angel is like you, Kate, and you are like an angel.
You shameless bastard. Fortunately Katherine is not so easily wooed.
Katherine:
O bon Dieu, les langues des hommes sont pleines des tromperies.
King Henry:
What says she, fair one? That the tongues of men are full of deceits?
Yep.
But King Henry’s not giving up. He goes on for a bit about how his English is no better than hers, in the sense that he’s not exactly a man who has a way with words. Which we all know to be bullshit, since in the last act he gave three speeches that moved even my rebel heart to English patriotism. He also has a few unflattering remarks to make about his own face.
King Henry:
[…] If thou canst love a fellow of this temper, Kate, whose face is not worth sunburning, that never looks in his glass for love of anything he sees there
…which may be accurate for the historical King Henry V, who took an arrow to the knee face and had a hole in his cheek, but sounds kind of ridiculous when you apply it to The Hollow Crown‘s Tom Hiddleston.
Katherine still has some reservations.
Katherine:
Is it possible dat I sould love de enemy of France?
King Henry:
No, it is not possible you should love the enemy of France, Kate. But, in loving me, you should love the friend of France, for I love France so well that I will not part with a village of it. I will have it all mine.
I… don’t think that’s what love means, dude.*
King Henry also tells her that they will make beautiful babies together. No, seriously.
King Henry:
[…] If ever thou beest mine, Kate, as I have a saving faith within me tells me thou shalt, I get thee with scambling, and thou must therefore needs prove a good soldier-breeder. Shall not thou and I, between Saint Denis and Saint George, compound a boy, half French, half English, that shall go to Constantinople and take the Turk by the beard? Shall we not? What say’st thou, my fair flower de luce?
Sexy.
After some more self-deprecation and an awkward kiss, the match is made. King Henry V shall have Princess Katherine for wife. And just in time for all the French and English lords to return with news that King Henry gets everything he asked for from the French. It’s good to be the King.
The Chorus returns to remind us that while it may all look like roses now, King Henry V died quite young, leaving behind his infant son King Henry VI to fuck everything up and lose France. So it goes.
—
*I will not apply 21st-century morals to 16th-century texts. I will not apply 21st-century morals to 16th-century texts. I will not apply 21st-century morals to 16th-century texts…
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If you would like to continue the saga of Kings Who Can’t Have Friends, here’s The Rant of Henry VI.
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