[5024] dare eat] dare to eat F3 F4. dares eat Pope.
[5025] It is now two] 'Tis two Pope.
ACT IV.
PROLOGUE.[5026]
Enter Chorus.
Chor. Now entertain conjecture of a time
When creeping murmur and the poring dark
Fills the wide vessel of the universe.
From camp to camp through the foul womb of night
The hum of either army stilly sounds,5
That the fixed sentinels almost receive
The secret whispers of each other's watch:
Fire answers fire, and through their paly flames
Each battle sees the other's umber'd face;
Steed threatens steed, in high and boastful neighs10
Piercing the night's dull ear, and from the tents
The armourers, accomplishing the knights,
With busy hammers closing rivets up,
Give dreadful note of preparation:
The country cocks do crow, the clocks do toll,15
And the third hour of drowsy morning name.[5027]
Proud of their numbers and secure in soul,
The confident and over-lusty French
Do the low-rated English play at dice;[5028]
And chide the cripple tardy-gaited night[5029]20
Who, like a foul and ugly witch, doth limp
So tediously away. The poor condemned English,[5030]
Like sacrifices, by their watchful fires
Sit patiently and inly ruminate
The morning's danger, and their gesture sad25
Investing lank-lean cheeks and war-worn coats[5031]
Presenteth them unto the gazing moon[5032]
So many horrid ghosts. O now, who will behold[5033]
The royal captain of this ruin'd band
Walking from watch to watch, from tent to tent,30
Let him cry 'Praise and glory on his head!'
For forth he goes and visits all his host,
Bids them good morrow with a modest smile
And calls them brothers, friends and countrymen.
Upon his royal face there is no note[5034]35
How dread an army hath enrounded him;
Nor doth he dedicate one jot of colour
Unto the weary and all-watched night,
But freshly looks and over-bears attaint
With cheerful semblance and sweet majesty;40
That every wretch, pining and pale before,
Beholding him, plucks comfort from his looks:
A largess universal like the sun
His liberal eye doth give to every one,
Thawing cold fear, that mean and gentle all,[5035]45
Behold, as may unworthiness define,
A little touch of Harry in the night.[5036]
And so our scene must to the battle fly;
Where—O for pity!—we shall much disgrace
With four or five most vile and ragged foils,50
Right ill-disposed in brawl ridiculous,
The name of Agincourt. Yet sit and see,
Minding true things by what their mockeries be. [Exit.
Scene I. The English camp at Agincourt.
Enter King Henry, Bedford, and Gloucester.[5037]
K. Hen. Gloucester, 'tis true that we are in great danger;
The greater therefore should our courage be.
Good morrow, brother Bedford. God Almighty!
There is some soul of goodness in things evil,
Would men observingly distil it out.5
For our bad neighbour makes us early stirrers,
Which is both healthful and good husbandry:
Besides, they are our outward consciences,
And preachers to us all, admonishing
That we should dress us fairly for our end.[5038]10
Thus may we gather honey from the weed,
And make a moral of the devil himself.