‘O for a Muse of fire’ (Henry V) so begins the Prologue to Henry V. The Prologue is spoken by the Chorus, and the speech sets the scene for the historical drama that will follow; it also makes reference to the very theatre in which Henry V was first performed, which makes it doubly notable as a speech.
The Chorus begins by calling for ‘a muse of fire’: that is, inspiration as bright and brilliant as the element of fire, which was regarded as the brightest of the four classical elements (the other elements being earth, air, and water). Such a muse would allow the Chorus to attain the highest peaks of creativity and imagination. The ‘muse of fire’ would also enable the Chorus to re-create history before the play’s audience: the stage would become a whole kingdom, the actors would be the princes they portray, and actual monarchs would watch the majestic spectacle as it played out before them. If such a feat were possible, King Henry V himself, great warrior, in his own manner would take on the demeanour of the god of war himself, Mars (from Roman mythology). At the King’s heels, kept on a leash as dogs are, you would find famine, sword, and fire (three traditional instruments of war, crouched ready to be deployed by him.
The Chorus begs the ‘gentles’ (ladies and gentlemen) of the audience pardon, because he knows that this ‘scaffold’ or stage is ‘unworthy’ to bring such a vast subject to life. It is but a ‘cockpit’: a word which originally referred to the small arena in which ‘cocks’ or chickens would fight (cockfighting was a hugely popular pastime throughout the Middle Ages and Early Modern period). The Chorus’ reference to ‘this wooden O’ is usually interpreted as a reference to the newly built Globe theatre, which Shakespeare’s company built in 1599, shortly before Henry V was first performed. ‘Casques’ refers to the helmets worn by soldiers on the battlefield at Agincourt in October 1415 (a key set piece in Shakespeare’s play).
The Chorus again apologises to the audience before the play even begins. He goes on to reason that, since one figure can represent a million on the small stage, the audience should permit the actors to go to work on the audience’s imaginations. There is a clever piece of wordplay on ‘figure’ here, suggesting the figure or number of ‘zero’ as well as a human figure; this chimes with ‘ciphers’ a couple of lines later, which literally means ‘zeroes’. Shakespeare is drawing on the world of tables and bookkeeping, where a zero at the end of a row of figures does serve to represent a big number such as one million (1,000,000). ‘Crooked’ further underscores the inadequacy or smallness of the theatre company in representing the vastness of what took place between the armies at Agincourt.
The Chorus concludes his speech by referring to the illusion of all theatre: ultimately, every play involves the audience’s participation in the creation of the illusion, and letting their imagination supply what cannot be presented literally on stage. So the playgoers’ imaginations must deck out the kings portrayed on stage, and imagine them travelling from place to place and jumping forward over several months and years. The play must condense the action (which took place over a number of years) into a play that runs for just a few hours. He entreats the audience to accept him as the commentator on the history they will witness, begging their patience as they hear (and, he hopes, kindly judge) the play put before them.