One of the many great things about the history plays is the way that they present a cross-section of the societies of the time. Now it's been said that the term "chronicle" is a more accurate term for the plays in question, because they are primarily concerned with the highest levels of power, and to a considerable extant this is true, but they also provide some unforgettable glimpses of life in a wide variety of social levels and settings. And it's a great mental exercise (and great fun) to try to imagine the stories of the characters we encounter, i.e. the events that may have led them to the particular place and time that they occupy in the play(s). In Henry IV, Part One for example, there is a very unusual scene (2.1) involving two carriers and an ostler working at an Inn in Rochester that shows that their concerns are quite removed from the problems of those at the top (managing wars, quelling rebellions and so forth). Or perhaps they are meant to personify the dissatisfaction felt throughout the land. Either way, it's a scene filled with remarkable detail of gritty fifteenth century life. Here's an excerpt:

SECOND CARRIER

Peas and beans are as dank here as a dog, and that

is the next way to give poor jades the bots: this

house is turned upside down since Robin Ostler died.

FIRST CARRIER

Poor fellow, never joyed since the price of oats

rose; it was the death of him.

SECOND CARRIER

I think this be the most villanous house in all

London road for fleas: I am stung like a tench.

FIRST CARRIER

Like a tench! by the mass, there is ne'er a king

christen could be better bit than I have been since

the first cock.

SECOND CARRIER

Why, they will allow us ne'er a jordan, and then we

leak in your chimney; and your chamber-lie breeds

fleas like a loach.

FIRST CARRIER

What, ostler! come away and be hanged!

SECOND CARRIER

I have a gammon of bacon and two razors of ginger,

to be delivered as far as Charing-cross.

FIRST CARRIER

God's body! the turkeys in my pannier are quite

starved. What, ostler! A plague on thee! hast thou

never an eye in thy head? canst not hear? An

'twere not as good deed as drink, to break the pate

on thee, I am a very villain. Come, and be hanged!

hast thou no faith in thee?