Now entertain conjecture of a time

4.0.21791When creeping murmur and the poring dark

4.0.31792Fills the wide vessel of the universe.

4.0.41793From camp to camp, through the foul womb of night,

4.0.51794The hum of either army stilly sounds,

4.0.61795That the fixed sentinels almost receive

4.0.71796The secret whispers of each other's watch.

4.0.81797Fire answers fire, and through their paly flames

4.0.91798Each battle sees the other's umbered face.

4.0.101799Steed threatens steed, in high and boastful neighs

4.0.111800Piercing the night's dull ear, and from the tents,

4.0.121801The armorers accomplishing the knights,

4.0.131802With busy hammers closing rivets up,

4.0.141803Give dreadful note of preparation.

4.0.151804The country cocks do crow, the clocks do toll,

4.0.161805And the third hour of drowsy morning named.

4.0.171806Proud of their numbers and secure in soul,

4.0.181807The confident and over-lusty French

4.0.191808Do the low-rated English play at dice,

4.0.201809And chide the cripple tardy-gaited night,

4.0.211810Who like a foul and ugly witch doth limp

4.0.221811So tediously away. The poor condemnèd English,

4.0.231812Like sacrifices, by their watchful fires

4.0.241813Sit patiently and inly ruminate

4.0.251814The morning's danger; and their gesture sad,

4.0.261815Investing lank-lean cheeks and war-worn coats,

4.0.271816Presented them unto the gazing moon

4.0.281817So many horrid ghosts. Oh, now, who will behold

4.0.291818The royal captain of this ruined band

4.0.301819Walking from watch to watch, from tent to tent,

4.0.311820Let him cry "Praise and glory on his head!"

4.0.321821For forth he goes and visits all his host,

4.0.331822Bids them good morrow with a modest smile,

4.0.341823And calls them brothers, friends, and countrymen.

4.0.351824Upon his royal face there is no note

4.0.361825How dread an army hath enrounded him;

4.0.371826Nor doth he dedicate one jot of color

4.0.381827Unto the weary and all-watchèd night,

4.0.391828But freshly looks and overbears attaint

4.0.401829With cheerful semblance and sweet majesty,

4.0.411830That every wretch, pining and pale before,

4.0.421831Beholding him, plucks comfort from his looks.

4.0.431832A largess universal like the sun

4.0.441833His liberal eye doth give to everyone,

4.0.451834Thawing cold fear, that mean and gentle all

4.0.461835Behold, as may unworthiness define,

4.0.471836A little touch of Harry in the night.

4.0.481837And so our scene must to the battle fly,

4.0.491838Where -- oh, for pity! -- we shall much disgrace

4.0.501839With four or five most vile and ragged foils

4.0.511840Right ill-disposed in brawl ridiculous,

4.0.521841The name of Agincourt. Yet sit and see,

4.0.531842Minding true things by what their mock'ries be.