Close Readings
Henry's Brothers, Elizabeth's Stomach: The Art of Oration
Zach Davis
Performing Henry V’s Crispin’s Day speech is wonderful and intimidating. The actor faces a lovely problem: how can I take this fantastic speech Shakespeare wrote and make it sound believable? After all, Henry is a king on a battlefield, addressing an army of hungry, sick, terrified men. The soldiers probably have more in common with criminals than valiant knights. This is hardly the time or place for a poetry reading. Yet somehow, these 49 beautiful lines must be the difference between victory and defeat.
In this speech, Henry gives his men the gift of glory for years to come. Should they achieve victory, their "names … [shall] be in [every veteran's] flowing cups freshly remembered" on every anniversary of the battle, "from this day to the ending of the world" (Henry V, IV.iii.53-57,60). He acknowledges them as humans, and as heroes. He wants greatness for them. Then he re-frames the fight, promising, "he today that sheds his blood with me / Shall be my brother; be he ne’er so vile, / This day shall gentle his condition" (63-65). Suddenly it’s not even about getting free drinks in your old age: participating in this fight means becoming a family.
Now there’s someone who won’t throw your life away. There’s something to fight for.
When he’s imagining that happy future, Henry should be personal, intimate. He’s not shouting anymore, he’s reminiscing, projecting into the future to wax nostalgic about the present. He and his men are sharing a dream.
In order to prepare for the role, an actor could take a look at another virtuoso speech, which was almost certainly on the groundlings’ minds when Henry V premiered in 1599. In 1588, England had repelled a massive naval invasion fleet, the Spanish Armada. Days after the battle, Queen Elizabeth gave her famous Speech to the Troops at Tilbury Camp (Green, 436), to encourage her weary soldiers to stay vigilant. In "‘I My Self’: Queen Elizabeth’s Oration at Tilbury Camp," Janet Green gives a deep analysis of the speech. Examining both speeches side-by-side, we can see Henry V borrowing many of Elizabeth’s most effective techniques. For the actor, these correlations suggests moments to bring out.
Both monarchs emphasize their commonality with their subjects. This is a skillful way to establish authority without alienating listeners; we trust most those to whom we feel closest. The queen asserts, "I have placed my chiefest strength, and safeguard in the loyal hearts and good will of my subjects" (Green, 433). As Green notes, this served to "show [Elizabeth’s] worth to her hearers and unite their passions with hers" (423). Henry takes it one step further, vowing that "he today that sheds his blood with me / Shall be my brother" (63-64).
Both monarchs use jarring juxtapositions. Green cites two especially potent examples Elizabeth uses: she’s a weak woman but a strong king, and she’s told she’s in danger among her men, but she trusts them (425). Henry scatters such juxtapositions throughout: fewer men leads to greater honor (IV.iii.25), scars are desirable (50), vile men will be gentled (64-65). This is high drama, and it puts in the listeners’ minds the possibility of a sudden turn from bad fortune to good.
Both monarchs directly address the weakness that might undermine their message. This enhances their reputations as truth-tellers. It also positions Elizabeth and Henry to make explicit counter-arguments. Elizabeth alludes to her potentially inferior feminine position, but re-casts it as strength. She validates herself by proclaiming, "I have the heart and Stomach of a King, and of a King of England too" (Green, 433). She might not look like a man, but she's got a man's strength tucked away inside, unseeable and therefore irrefutable. And unlike men, who are presumably born with manly fortitude, Elizabeth had to work hard – to demonstrate her ability as a ruler – before she could earn the right to ascribe to herself a man's virtues. Her womanhood serves merely as a low starting point, making her ascension all the more awe-inspiring. Henry has a personal confession to make, too: "if it be a sin to covet honor, / I am the most offending soul alive" (IV.iii.31-32). Sinful pride might have led him into France, but the subtle substitution of "honor" imbues him instead with chivalric virtue. An even more pressing problem plaguing his army, though, is the crippling fear of a militarily superior opponent. He uses this to advantage as well, pointing out "the fewer men, the greater share of honor" (IV.iii.25). In fact, he says, men "with no stomach" should leave, so the remaining men can have even more honor each (38-39); "we would not die in that man’s company" (41). And alongside the arithmetical logic, his valuation of "stomach" draws him even closer to the beloved queen of Shakespeare's England.
Both monarchs end by reminding their soldiers of the personal rewards to come. Green says, "in her use of emphasis, Elizabeth, when she wished to be absolutely clear, would place her main thought toward the end" (429). Her last thought is of "famous victory," and the last party to whom she promises it is "my People" (Green, 433). Her soldiers knew, then, her final and most significant thought was of them, and her parting wish was to improve their well-being. Henry, too, ends with a stirring vow to his men: their glory will be unassailable because they "fought with us upon Saint Crispin’s day" (IV.iii.69, emphasis mine). And because "us" comes to mean "family" over the course of his speech, each soldier knows I am fighting for my people. His "people" aren't an abstraction of English citizenry any more; they are a "band of brothers" (62).
By listening to Queen Elizabeth, an actor can hear what would have resonated with soldiers. The most successful monarchs told their people of courage and of rewards that transcended the physical. Most of all, they used love. They created family. The Crispin’s Day speech, then, is as intimate as it is rousing. It’s clear that Henry looks his men in the eyes as he calls them a "band of brothers" (62), and they hear true words, not clever rhetoric.
Below are reproduced the Tilbury speech and the Crispin’s Day speech in full. The bolded passages are where Elizabeth and Henry seem to line up especially closely.
In this speech, Henry gives his men the gift of glory for years to come. Should they achieve victory, their "names … [shall] be in [every veteran's] flowing cups freshly remembered" on every anniversary of the battle, "from this day to the ending of the world" (Henry V, IV.iii.53-57,60). He acknowledges them as humans, and as heroes. He wants greatness for them. Then he re-frames the fight, promising, "he today that sheds his blood with me / Shall be my brother; be he ne’er so vile, / This day shall gentle his condition" (63-65). Suddenly it’s not even about getting free drinks in your old age: participating in this fight means becoming a family.
Now there’s someone who won’t throw your life away. There’s something to fight for.
When he’s imagining that happy future, Henry should be personal, intimate. He’s not shouting anymore, he’s reminiscing, projecting into the future to wax nostalgic about the present. He and his men are sharing a dream.
In order to prepare for the role, an actor could take a look at another virtuoso speech, which was almost certainly on the groundlings’ minds when Henry V premiered in 1599. In 1588, England had repelled a massive naval invasion fleet, the Spanish Armada. Days after the battle, Queen Elizabeth gave her famous Speech to the Troops at Tilbury Camp (Green, 436), to encourage her weary soldiers to stay vigilant. In "‘I My Self’: Queen Elizabeth’s Oration at Tilbury Camp," Janet Green gives a deep analysis of the speech. Examining both speeches side-by-side, we can see Henry V borrowing many of Elizabeth’s most effective techniques. For the actor, these correlations suggests moments to bring out.
Both monarchs emphasize their commonality with their subjects. This is a skillful way to establish authority without alienating listeners; we trust most those to whom we feel closest. The queen asserts, "I have placed my chiefest strength, and safeguard in the loyal hearts and good will of my subjects" (Green, 433). As Green notes, this served to "show [Elizabeth’s] worth to her hearers and unite their passions with hers" (423). Henry takes it one step further, vowing that "he today that sheds his blood with me / Shall be my brother" (63-64).
Both monarchs use jarring juxtapositions. Green cites two especially potent examples Elizabeth uses: she’s a weak woman but a strong king, and she’s told she’s in danger among her men, but she trusts them (425). Henry scatters such juxtapositions throughout: fewer men leads to greater honor (IV.iii.25), scars are desirable (50), vile men will be gentled (64-65). This is high drama, and it puts in the listeners’ minds the possibility of a sudden turn from bad fortune to good.
Both monarchs directly address the weakness that might undermine their message. This enhances their reputations as truth-tellers. It also positions Elizabeth and Henry to make explicit counter-arguments. Elizabeth alludes to her potentially inferior feminine position, but re-casts it as strength. She validates herself by proclaiming, "I have the heart and Stomach of a King, and of a King of England too" (Green, 433). She might not look like a man, but she's got a man's strength tucked away inside, unseeable and therefore irrefutable. And unlike men, who are presumably born with manly fortitude, Elizabeth had to work hard – to demonstrate her ability as a ruler – before she could earn the right to ascribe to herself a man's virtues. Her womanhood serves merely as a low starting point, making her ascension all the more awe-inspiring. Henry has a personal confession to make, too: "if it be a sin to covet honor, / I am the most offending soul alive" (IV.iii.31-32). Sinful pride might have led him into France, but the subtle substitution of "honor" imbues him instead with chivalric virtue. An even more pressing problem plaguing his army, though, is the crippling fear of a militarily superior opponent. He uses this to advantage as well, pointing out "the fewer men, the greater share of honor" (IV.iii.25). In fact, he says, men "with no stomach" should leave, so the remaining men can have even more honor each (38-39); "we would not die in that man’s company" (41). And alongside the arithmetical logic, his valuation of "stomach" draws him even closer to the beloved queen of Shakespeare's England.
Both monarchs end by reminding their soldiers of the personal rewards to come. Green says, "in her use of emphasis, Elizabeth, when she wished to be absolutely clear, would place her main thought toward the end" (429). Her last thought is of "famous victory," and the last party to whom she promises it is "my People" (Green, 433). Her soldiers knew, then, her final and most significant thought was of them, and her parting wish was to improve their well-being. Henry, too, ends with a stirring vow to his men: their glory will be unassailable because they "fought with us upon Saint Crispin’s day" (IV.iii.69, emphasis mine). And because "us" comes to mean "family" over the course of his speech, each soldier knows I am fighting for my people. His "people" aren't an abstraction of English citizenry any more; they are a "band of brothers" (62).
By listening to Queen Elizabeth, an actor can hear what would have resonated with soldiers. The most successful monarchs told their people of courage and of rewards that transcended the physical. Most of all, they used love. They created family. The Crispin’s Day speech, then, is as intimate as it is rousing. It’s clear that Henry looks his men in the eyes as he calls them a "band of brothers" (62), and they hear true words, not clever rhetoric.
Below are reproduced the Tilbury speech and the Crispin’s Day speech in full. The bolded passages are where Elizabeth and Henry seem to line up especially closely.
Elizabeth’s speech to the troops, 9 August 1588
My loving people,
We have been perswaded by some, that are careful of our safety, to take heed how we commit our self to armed multitudes for fear of treachery: but I assure you, I do not desire to live to distrust my faithful, and loving people. Let Tyrants fear, I have alwayes so behaved my self, that under God I have placed my chiefest strength, and safeguard in the loyal hearts and good will of my subjects. And therefore I am come amongst you as you see, at this time, not for my recreation, and disport, but being resolved in the midst, and heat of the battaile, to live, or die amongst you all, to lay down for my God, and for my kingdom, and for my people, my Honour, and my blood even in the dust.
I know I have the bodie but of a weak and feeble woman; but I have the heart and Stomach of a King, and of a King of England too, and think foul scorn that Parma or Spain, or any Prince of Europe should dare to invade the borders of my Realm, to which rather than any dishonour shall grow by me, I my self will take up arms, I my self will be your General, Judge, and Rewarder of everie one of your virtues in the field.
I know alreadie for your forwardnesse, you have deserved rewards and crownes, and we do assure you in the word of a Prince, they shall be duly paid you. In the mean time my Lieutenant General shall be in my stead, then whom never Prince commanded a more Noble or worthie subject, not doubting but by your obedience to my General, by your Concord in the Camp, and your valour in the field, we shall shortly have a famous victorie over these enemies of my God, of my Kingdomes, and of my People.
(Recorded by Leonel Sharpe, published in Cabala (1654), an anthology of politicians’s letters, reproduced in Green p. 443, line breaks and bolding mine)
St. Crispin’s Day Speech
WESTMORELAND
O, that we now had here
But one ten thousand of those men in England
That do no work today.
KING HENRY
What’s he that wishes so?
My cousin Westmoreland? No, my fair cousin.
If we are marked to die, we are enough
To do our country loss; and if to live,
The fewer men, the greater share of honor.
God’s will, I pray thee wish not one man more.
By Jove, I am not covetous for gold,
Nor care I who doth feed upon my cost;
It yearns me not if men my garments wear;
Such outward things dwell not in my desires.
But if it be a sin to covet honor,
I am the most offending soul alive.
No, ’faith, my coz, wish not a man from England.
God’s peace, I would not lose so great an honor
As one man more, methinks, would share from me,
For the best hope I have. O, do not wish one more!
Rather proclaim it, Westmoreland, through my host,
That he which hath no stomach to this fight,
Let him depart. His passport shall be made,
And crowns for convoy put into his purse.
We would not die in that man’s company
That fears his fellowship to die with us.
This day is called the feast of Crispian.
He that outlives this day and comes safe home
Will stand o’ tiptoe when this day is named
And rouse him at the name of Crispian.
He that shall see this day, and live old age,
Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbors
And say "Tomorrow is Saint Crispian."
Then will he strip his sleeve and show his scars.
Old men forget; yet all shall be forgot,
But he’ll remember with advantages
What feats he did that day. Then shall our names,
Familiar in his mouth as household words,
Harry the King, Bedford and Exeter,
Warwick and Talbot, Salisbury and Gloucester,
Be in their flowing cups freshly remembered.
This story shall the good man teach his son,
And Crispin Crispian shall ne’er go by,
From this day to the ending of the world,
But we in it shall be rememberèd--
We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;
For he today that sheds his blood with me
Shall be my brother; be he ne’er so vile,
This day shall gentle his condition;
And gentlemen in England now abed
Shall think themselves accursed they were not here,
And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks
That fought with us upon Saint Crispin’s day.
(Henry V, IV.iii.18-69, line breaks and bolding mine)