John Knoepfle

    Shakespeare in Henry V sculpts the character of the king, the French nobles, and the London rascals in terms of strictures from the prophet Isaiah. It has long been established that Shakespeare's favorite biblical sources were the Bishops' Bible and the Geneva Bible.1 The Geneva, as distinguished from the Bishops', is heavily glossed, and as will be seen below, these glosses are as important as the verses from Isaiah in terms of the light they cast on the text of Shakespeare's Renaissance play about a medieval king. The Geneva Bible, with 122 editions between 1560 and 1611, was by far the most popular Bible in Elizabethan England. Its nearest competitor was the Bishops' Bible, with twenty-two editions. The Geneva was issued in a handy quarto; it was also the first Bible to be fully numbered by chapter and verse, and the first to be printed in roman and italic type.2 Although in its many editions the Geneva varied considerably in terms of its glosses and other editorial accoutrements, for the purposes of this paper the text and glosses in the Genevan-Tomson 1595 edition--identified as the edition used by Shakespeare are the same as in the original edition of 1560.3

    In Henry V the biblical references establish the king as lion, the French nobles as victims of pride and false confidence, the rascals as blind and opportunistic in the pursuit of success, and the king, once more, as the good watchman on the eve of the battle of Agincourt.

    In Act IV the French herald, Montjoy, seeks out Henry and offers him the option of taking his battered army from the field at the cost of a ransom rather than suffering certain defeat at the hands of the French.4 Henry replies in terms of a fable:

    But the fable that Henry cites concerns a bear and not a lion,5 a significant change which reinforces the king-lion reference made earlier by Canterbury as he exhorts the young Henry to take the field against the French and make good his birthright. Canterbury recalls the exploits of

Henry himself, as Prince Hal, has been called the lion's whelp by Falstaff: "Why, Hal! thou knowest, as thou art but man, I dare, but as thou art Prince, I fear thee as I fear the roaring of the lion's whelp" (1 Henry IV III.iii.145-47).

    Clearly, there is a method here on Shakespeare's part: the lion and the lion's whelp are spoken of in Isaiah 31:4 also: "For thus hathe the Lorde spoken vnto me, As the lion or lions whelpe roareth vpon his praie, against whome if a multitude of shepherds be called, he wil not be afraide at their voice, nether will humble him self at their noise: so shal the Lord of hostes come downe to fight for mount Zion, and for the hill thereof."

    Shakespeare identifies the English king as the lion of Isaiah and the French nobles as the Egyptian forces. They are the ones, as Isaiah says, that "stay vpon horses, and trust in charettes, because they are manie, and in horsemen, because they be very strong: but thei loke not vnto the holie one of Israel, nor seke vnto the Lord" (31:1). Isaiah's wrath is directed against those Israelites who wanted to league with Egypt, but the Geneva Bible gloss widens the application: "Meaning, that thei forsake the Lord, that put their trust in worldelie things: for thei can not trust in bothe." And the French are cast into this mold of Isaiah. The nobles posture among themselves on the eve of the battle of Agincourt. Most of their talk is about horses. The Constable acknowledges that Orleans has the best horse in Europe. The Dauphin's horse is a very Pegasus. He has written sonnets to this beast as if the horse were his mistress, and so on. The conversation occupies some fifty lines of III.vii. And this follows on Henry's words which help to close III.vi: "We are in God's hand, brother, not in theirs" (1. 169). Again, as the battle is joined, after some twelve more lines given to horses, the Dauphin shouts: "Mount them, and make incision in their hides, / That their hot blood may spin in English eyes" (IV. ii.9-10).

    The French pay a price for their arrogance. Isaiah tells what will happen to those who consort with Egypt: "They shalbe all ashamed of the people that can not profite them, nor helpe nor do them good, but shalbe a shame and also a reproche" (30:5). The French in disarray take these strictures on themselves:

When the battle is conceded, the herald comes again. This time Montjoy petitions King Henry for leave to list and bury the French dead:

This gruesome description has its parallel in Isaiah 31:3, the verse that leads into the lion and lion's whelp passage: "Now the Egyptians are men, & not God, and their horses flesh and not spirit: and when the Lord shal stretche out his hand, the helper shal fall, and he that is holpen shal fall, and thei shal altogether faile." This is what has to be read into the words of the herald, according to Isaiah. The blood of the helper, mercenary and peasant, mingles with the blood of the nobles, all failed together, and the horses are real and brutal, not at all the airy spirit of Pegasus.

    As for the London rascals, Pistol, Nym, Bardolph, and Mistress Quickley, they are realized in terms of another set of precepts from Isaiah. And by way of getting to this, it might be noted that in a play scattered with references to dogs--apocalyptic hounds or hunters or border marauders or greyhounds, wolves, or mastiffs that will charge a bear--there is a duster of such references in the scene when the rascals are first on stage (II.i). Pistol calls Nym a base tyke, an Iceland dog, a prick-ear'd cur of Iceland, an egregious dog; and when Bardolph momentarily reconciles them, Pistol offers to shake hands, asking Nym to give him his forefoot, only to call him a hound of Crete when the argument breaks out again. The Iceland lapdogs were known for quarreling; tyke is also a word for villain; and Crete suggests thieving and falsehood.6 This indicates that Shakespeare may have the blind watchmen passage from Isaiah in mind as he allows the rascals their strut:

The gloss for verse 12 is helpful: "We are wel yet, and tomorowe shal be better: therefore let vs not fearn the plagues before they come."

    These verses provide an insight into Nym's famous humour, his fatalistic torpor as he waits for his advantage, perhaps to cut Pistol's throat when he catches Pistol asleep:

Isaiah's verse 12 with its wine and more abundant tomorrow gives substance to Pistol's promises when he and Nym are finally reconciled:

    And the gloss ''We are well yet... let us not fear the plagues before they come" is certainly woven into Mistress Quickley's comfort as Falstaff, having picked at his bed covers, sinks into death:

    Pistol earlier, on hearing of the impending death of Falstaff, had called to his companions: "Let us condole the knight, for, lambkins, we

The parallels from Isaiah are from 57:10: "Thou weariedst thy self in thy manifold iourneis, yet saidest thou not, There is no hope: thou hast founde life by thine hand, therefore thou wast not grieued." Now Pistol will make another journey, this one back to England, taking his weary bones with him, and he will find a new life there with his quick hand. The gloss for verse 10 is instructive: "Althogh you sawest all thy labours to be in vaine, yet woldest you neuer acknowledge thy faute & leaue of." This tough survivor who is without remorse is mocked by the wisdom voice of Isaiah, as the gloss for the phrase "thou hast founde life by thine hand" indicates: "He derideth their vnprofitable diligence which thoght to haue made all sure, & yet were deceiued." And finally, in verse 13, the desolation is pointed: "When thou cryest, let them that thou hast gathered together deliuer thee: but the winde shal take them all away: vanitie shal pul them awaie." So this is the end of Pistol, his little troop scattered and he returning to try his luck in the stews of England.

    In contrast to Pistol and his friends, King Henry is anything but a blind watchman. Indeed, the English camp itself is awake and alert. The Chorus opening Act IV is preoccupied with keeping watch: "the fix'd sentinels almost receive / The secret whispers of each other's watch" (11. 6-7); the English sit "Like sacrifices, by their watchful fires" (1.23); King Henry is ''Walking from watch to watch" (1. 30); he is turning a cheerful face "Unto the weary and all-watched night" (1.38). And Henry himself

    Two passages which stand at the opening and the conclusion of this scene have a relationship to passages in Isaiah. Both are marked by the appearance of Sir Thomas Erpingham. In the first Henry has just been speaking to Bedford and Gloucester. Given the proximity of the French, Henry has observed: "they are our outward consciences / And preachers to us all, admonishing / That we should dress us fairly for our end" (II. 8-10). In Isaiah 62:6, under the headnote "Watchemans duetie" one reads: "I haue set watche men vpon thy walles, o Ierusalem, which all the daie and all the night continually shal not cease: ye that are mindful of the Lord, kepe not silence," for which the gloss is simply "Prophets, pastors, and ministers." Henry follows the instruction of Isaiah here, preaching a sermon, making "a moral of the devil himself," as he says (I. 12).

    At this point Erpingham enters, the old and white-haired knight who tells Henry that he is happy to sleep on the ground because then he can say "Now lie I like a king." This cheers the king, who delivers a homily on the theme of privation and hardship:

Then the king turns to Erpingham and says, "Lend me thy cloak, Sir Thomas." But why this bit of stage business? Why should the king, just after he has moralized upon the good that comes from using pain well, suddenly want the knight's cloak? Probably the cloak was the only protection the old man had, the only wrapping to shield him from the ground. There is a due in Isaiah 59:17: "For he put on righteousness, as an habergeon, and an helmet of saluacion vpon his head, and he put on the garments of vengeance for clothing, & was clad with zeale as a doke." In the sense of Isaiah, then, Henry has put on the zeal of Erpingham and so dressed "fairly" for the day to come.

    At the close of this scene, as Henry meditates on the watch a king must keep, Erpingham comes to him and says, "My lord, your nobles, jealous of your absence, / Seek through the camp to find you" (11.285-86). This is a nice touch, as "jealous" here can mean "zealous."7 Whatever, after Erpingham exits, Henry makes his prayer to the God of battles. He begs that the hearts of his soldiers will be steeled despite the great

The key word in Henry's prayer is "contrite." It has a counterpart in Isaiah 57:15: "I dwell in the hie & holie place: with him also that is of a contrite and humble spirit to reuiue the spirit of the humble, and to giue life to them that are of a contrite heart." In context the word is of the first importance because life is given to those of a contrite heart. Against this may be set Pistol's "lambkins, we will live" or his attempt to find life with a quick hand; or the exchange between Grandpré and Constable as they view the English forces in the moment before the battle is joined at Agincourt:

Or consider the cry of the Dauphin when the French are beaten off: "Mort Dieu, ma vie!" As for the English, it is as King Henry said: "He that outlives this day, and comes safe home, / Will stand a' tiptoe when this day is named" (IV. iii.41-42).

    Taking into account the many echoes from Isaiah, it appears that Shakespeare is using the text of the Geneva Isaiah and its glosses to create a medieval backdrop for his Renaissance drama. Certainly the references to Isaiah indicate that Henry's prayer has been answered, the contrite heart has been given the promised life and a great victory. Seen against this backdrop, "the warlike Harry" described by the Prologue to Act I (1. 5) is indeed "the mirror of all Christian kings" that the Chorus for Act II (1.6) says he is. Nevertheless, in Shakespeare's earlier play of 3 Henry VI8 the warlike Harry's son takes his measure. This is the devout but ineffective Henry VI, who will cry out as he receives his death at the hands of Gloucester in the Tower of London: "O God forgive my sins, and pardon thee!" (V. vi.60). In a previous scene, Henry tells Lord Clifford of the inheritance that he would wish to leave Prince Edward, his son:

This speech also has a parallel in Isaiah. It is found in the opening verse of Chapter 56, the same chapter which ends with the rebuke for the blind watchmen: "Thus saith the Lord, Kepe iudjement & do iustice: for my saluacion is at hand to come & my righteousness to be reueiled." The gloss explains how this is to be accomplished: "God sheweth what he requireth of them after he hathe deliuered them: to wit, the workes of charitie whereby true faith is declared." Evidently Shakespeare has used texts from Isaiah to define Henry V, but also, in terms of his son, Henry VI, to indicate his limit. Perhaps it is the difference between the mirror of the Christian king as conqueror and hero and the mirror of the Christian king as saint.