Alexander Pope [1747], The works of Shakespear in eight volumes. The Genuine Text (collated with all the former Editions, and then corrected and emended) is here settled: Being restored from the Blunders of the first Editors, and the Interpolations of the two Last: with A Comment and Notes, Critical and Explanatory. By Mr. Pope and Mr. Warburton (Printed for J. and P. Knapton, [and] S. Birt [etc.], London) [word count] [S11301].
To look up a word in a dictionary, select the word with your mouse and press 'd' on your keyboard.
SCENE I.
AGINCOURT.
Enter Chorus.
Now entertain conjecture of a time,
When creeping murmur, and the poring dark,
1 note
Fills the wide vessel of the universe.
&wlquo;From camp to camp, through the foul womb of night,
&wlquo;The hum of either army stilly sounds;
&wlquo;That the fixt centinels almost receive
&wlquo;The secret whispers of each other's watch.
&wlquo;Fire answers fire; and through their paly flames
&wlquo;Each battel sees 2 notethe other's umber'd face,
&wlquo;Steed threatens steed, in high and boastful neighs
&wlquo;Piercing the night's dull ear; and from the tents,
&wlquo;The armourers accomplishing the knights,
-- 381 --
&wlquo;With busie hammers closing rivets up,
&wlquo;Give dreadful note of preparation.
&wlquo;The country cocks do crow, the clocks do toll:
&wlquo;And (the third hour of drousie morning nam'd)&wrquo;
Proud of their numbers and secure in soul,
The confident and over-lusty French
3 noteDo the low-rated English play at dice;
And chide the cripple tardy-gated night,
Who, like a foul and ugly witch, does limp
So tediously away. &wlquo;The poor condemned English,
&wlquo;Like sacrifices, by their watchful fires
&wlquo;Sit patiently, and inly ruminate
&wlquo;The morning's danger: and their gesture sad,
&wlquo;4 note
Invest in lank-lean cheeks and war-worn coats,
&wlquo;Presented them unto the gazing moon
&wlquo;So many horrid ghosts. Who now beholds
&wlquo;The royal captain of this ruin'd band
&wlquo;Walking from watch to watch, from tent to tent,
&wlquo;Let him cry, Praise and glory on his head!&wrquo;
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 over-bears attaint,
With chearful semblance and sweet majesty:
That ev'ry wretch, pining and pale before,
Beholding him, plucks comfort from his looks.
-- 382 --
A largess universal, like the sun,
His lib'ral eye doth give to ev'ry one,
Thawing cold fear. 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:
Where, O for pity! we shall much disgrace,
With four or five most vile and ragged foils,
(Right ill dispos'd, in brawl ridiculous)
The name of Agincourt. Yet sit and see,
Minding true things by what their mock'ries be.
[Exit.
Alexander Pope [1747], The works of Shakespear in eight volumes. The Genuine Text (collated with all the former Editions, and then corrected and emended) is here settled: Being restored from the Blunders of the first Editors, and the Interpolations of the two Last: with A Comment and Notes, Critical and Explanatory. By Mr. Pope and Mr. Warburton (Printed for J. and P. Knapton, [and] S. Birt [etc.], London) [word count] [S11301].
|
