Shakespeare wrote his plays for the ear, not the eye. His punctuation is sloppy, the stage directions minimal.

It’s much more difficult to understand one of his plays if you just read the text silently. It’s only when you read aloud, or, better yet, see the play performed, that the power of the words is evident.

Example: Read the text of Henry V’s inspiring speech to his men before they go into battle against the French:

WESTMORELAND

O that we now had here
But one ten thousand of those men in England
That do no work to-day!

KING HENRY V

What’s he that wishes so?
My cousin Westmoreland? No, my fair cousin:
If we are mark’d to die, we are enow
To do our country loss; and if to live,
The fewer men, the greater share of honour.
God’s will! I pray thee, wish not one man 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 a tip-toe when the day is named,
And rouse him at the name of Crispian.
He that shall live this day, and see old age,
Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbours,
And say ‘To-morrow is Saint Crispian’
Then will he strip his sleeve and show his scars.
And say ‘These wounds I had on Crispin’s day.’
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 remember’d.
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 remember’d;
We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;
For he to-day 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 a-bed
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.

(Act IV, Scene iii)

Now hear the speech as delivered by Kenneth Branagh.

Branagh’s voice brings out the nuance, subtlety and power of the speech that we miss when we just read the words.

The King literally brings his audience toward him from among the trees with a fine display of ethos – building a bond with the “band of brothers”. The bond is strengthened by contrasting their role with those “now a-bed”. He inspires them by painting in words a glorious future: their part in a story that will be told from “this day to the ending of the world”.

Very little of the power of the speech relies on gesture. Branagh is restrained. His fist is rigid, gloved and powerful. He relies instead on his voice, moderated at first, rising to a crescendo with the “ending of the world”. Then, seconds later, cracking to a whisper for “we few, we happy few” in preparation for the final lines delivered first with restrained humor, then mocking indictment and the final rousing claim which cues the troops to cheer.

Executive Communications Lesson

Find a corner of the office, or a space outside (perhaps in the woods like Henry), where you can read every speech you write out loud. Try reading it at different speeds. With different emphasis. Then, when you are happy with it, take it to your executive and make them do the same. You’ll probably have to insist, most speakers would rather skim the text in the back of the car on the way to the event.

But then, they never had to ask their audience to go fight the French.