Historical Episode

Enter Chorus. Cho.
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,^{1 note}
That the fix'd sentinels almost receive
The secret whispers of each other's watch:^{2 note}
Fire answers fire;^{3 note} and through their paly flames
Each battle sees the other's umber'd face:^{4 note}
Steed threatens steed, in high and boastful neighs
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.
Proud of their numbers, and secure in soul,
The confident and over-lusty^{5 note} French

Do the low-rated English play at dice;^{6 note}
And chide the cripple tardy-gaited night,
Who, like a foul and ugly witch, doth limp
So tediously away. Scene opens and discovers the interior of a French tent, with the Dauphin, the Constable, Orleans, and others, playing at dice.

Dau.

Will it never be day?

Con.

I would it were morning; for I would fain be about the ears of the English.

Dau.

Who will go to hazard with me for twenty English prisoners?

Orl.

The prince longs to eat the English.

Con.

Would it were day! Alas, poor Harry of England! he longs not for the dawning, as we do.

Dau.

If the English had any apprehension, they would run away.

Con.

That island of England breeds very valiant creatures; their mastiffs are of unmatchable courage.

Dau.

Foolish curs, that run winking into the mouth of a Russian bear, and have their heads crushed like rotten apples! You may as well say,—that's a valiant flea, that dare eat his breakfast on the lip of a lion.

Con.

Just, just; give them great meals of beef, and iron and steel, they will eat like wolves, and fight like devils.

Orl.

Ay, but these English are shrewdly out of beef.

Con.

Then we shall find to-morrow—they have only stomachs to eat, and none to fight. Now is it time to arm: Come, shall we about it?

Dau.
It is now two o'clock: but, let me see,—by ten
We shall have each a hundred Englishmen. SCENE CLOSES IN.

Cho.
The poor condemned English,
Like sacrifices, by their watchful fires
Sit patiently, and inly ruminate
The morning's danger; and their gestures sad,
Investing lank-lean cheeks, and war-worn coats,
Presenteth them unto the gazing moon
So many horrid ghosts. [Scene re-opens, discovering the English camp, with group of soldiery praying. After a pause the scene closes.
O, now, who will behold
The royal captain of this ruin'd band
Walking from watch to watch, from tent to tent,
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
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 overbears attaint
With cheerful semblance and sweet majesty;
That every wretch, pining and pale before,
Beholding him, plucks comfort from his looks:
Then, mean and gentle all,
Behold, as may unworthiness define,
A little touch of Harry in the night:
And so our scene must to the battle fly;
The field of Agincourt. Yet, sit and see;
Minding true things^{7 note} by what their mockeries be. [Exit.

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