Henry V: England’s Great Underdog (That’s the Humor of It)

The Duke of York Mourns the Death of Suffolk by Alexandre Bida (19th Century)

This play has everything! High stakes action and adventure? Check. The intense drama of war? Check. Great comic elements? Check. Romance? Check. The depth of moral ambiguity and philosophical debate? Check. Suspense, tension, intrigue, betrayal, corruption, funny accents, foreign languages, arrogant braggarts being taken down a peg? Go ahead and call the bank now, because we’re going to need more checks.



Eight of Shakespeare’s ten histories form a fairly continuous arc in the history of the English monarchy. Henry V is, in this sense, a play with a lot of back story. This is the fourth play in that chronology, and while Richard II (first in the series) and the preceding Henry IV parts 1 and 2 do deal with Henry V’s father, the latter two are also very focused on the young Henry V, then referred to as “Prince Hal” or “Harry.” Despite some redeeming qualities that start to present themselves on the battlefield, the young Henry V in those plays is pretty much up to no good. He and his companions go in very heavily for wine, women, and criminal mischief.

At the heart of the Henry V play is the redemption of the now King Henry V for those “wilder days” as the unruly Prince Hal, a process he begins in earnest at the end of Henry IV Part 2. This transformation means that his former barroom-buddies all get a comparatively raw deal. Only one of the five friends referenced in Henry V survives the play, and even he is beaten soundly (though not by Henry himself).

As king, Henry decides to take Dad’s advice by uniting his country by way of a foreign war. Henry lays a seemingly legitimate claim to the throne of France, only to be laughed off by the French prince. This prince, Dauphin, like many others, underestimates Henry because of his checkered past. Little does he know that King Henry V is all business, and with France now having insulted both English king and country, it is so on.

Though a formerly well-versed sinner, King Henry goes into battle with France as a God-fearing man of great faith. On the eve of the climactic battle at Agincourt between the French and English, Henry’s forces realize that they are vastly outnumbered (facing 60,000 fresh French soldiers with just 12,000 battered and bloody English). Despite the disadvantage, Henry is able to inspire his troops, and lead them to a miraculous victory against the overconfident French. Over ten thousand French are slain in the battle (including the offending prince Dauphin), while the English lose only thirty men.

Henry gives all glory to God, who he feels fought with them, and insists that his soldiers do the same. Yet in beating the inconceivable odds of that battle, and in rising above the doubts and disparagement of his detractors, he cements his place as a legendary English hero. In this, Henry V has all the excitement and satisfaction of a great underdog story. I can imagine the big win at Agincourt set to the da nuh nuh, da nuh nuh of the Rocky theme song.


"Hey yo, Kat-a-rin."

However, there are so many layers to Henry V, that the simple underdog label hardly does it all justice. The thing is that Henry’s transformation, not unlike his war, has its costs. Henry’s former friends (now current soldiers) lay the death of Sir John Falstaff, the loveable rogue who serves as the pseudo-foster father of Henry’s mischievous youth, in large part at Henry’s doorstep, saying “ The King has killed his heart” (H5 2.1.86). In the same breath that these former companions admit that “The King is a good king” they realize that, to them, Henry has proven a bad friend (H5 2.1.122). The trick is that for Henry to be both good king and good friend, this bar crowd would have to play by the King’s rules, and that just hadn’t been their M.O. It hadn’t been Henry’s either, but that was before he was carrying a kingdom on his back.

It’s a shame to see this lively bunch make their permanent exits, because they provide a great deal of the exceptional comedy here in Henry V. Thieves and drunks don’t make great soldiers, and the ensuing hilarity is always a well-timed dose of levity to break up the terrifically serious drama enacted elsewhere in the play. Fortunately, the Welsh Captain Fluellen, armed with a thick accent and a boisterous demeanor is capable of not only excellent military “services” but of excellent comedy as well.

In addition to the Welsh accent, there is plenty of fun to be had with the French language as well in Henry V, and even a bit of romance to go along with the romance language. French Princess Katherine starts learning English early in the play, and Henry knows enough French to get by in his bilingual courtship of the fair French mademoiselle.

Henry V ends with England and France at a newfound and hard-earned peace, and Henry and Katherine preparing to marry and join the rival nations together. Then the chorus comes onstage, and blows a perfectly happy ending, pointing out that Henry will die young and leave his ill-prepared infant son the crown. The turmoil to follow continues in the Henry VI plays, and concludes in Richard III.

Yet despite being a middle child of Shakespeare’s histories, Henry V is exceptional in its own right, not only in the satisfaction of Henry’s thrilling come-from-behind victory, but also in the masterful blend of historic, tragic, and comic elements that Shakespeare presents all in one powerful package.