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, That the fix'd sentinels almost receive The secret whispers of each other's watch : The country cocks do crow, the clocks do toll, Do the low-rated English play at dice; Sit patiently, and inly ruminate The morning's danger: and their gesture sad, So many horrid ghosts. O, now, who will behold Walking from watch to watch, from tent to tent, How dread an army hath enrounded him; His liberal eye doth give to every one, A little touch of Harry in the night: [Exit. SCENE I. The English Camp at AGINCOURT. For our bad neighbour makes us early stirrers, Enter ERPINGHAM. Good morrow, old sir Thomas Erpingham: Erp. Not so, my liege; this lodging likes me better, Since I may say-now lie I like a king. K. Hen. "Tis good for men to love their present pains, Upon example; so the spirit is eased: And, when the mind is quicken'd, out of doubt, Lend me thy cloak, sir Thomas.-Brothers both, Glo. We shall, my liege. [Exeunt Gloster and Bedford. Erp. Shall I attend your grace? No, my good knight; K. Hen. I and my bosom must debate awhile, Erp. The Lord in heaven bless thee, noble Harry! [Exit Erpingham. K. Hen. God-a-mercy, old heart! thou speakest cheerfully. Pist. Qui va là? K. Hen. A friend. Enter PISTOL. Pist. Discuss unto me; Art thou officer; Of parents good, of fist most valiant: I kiss his dirty shoe, and from my heart-strings K. Hen. Harry le Roy. Pist. Le Roy! a Cornish name: art thou of Cornish crew? K. Hen. No, I am a Welshman. Pist. Knowest thou Fluellen? K. Hen. Yes. Pist. Tell him, I'll knock his leek about his pate, Upon saint Davy's day. K. Hen. Do not you wear your dagger in your cap that day, lest he knock that about yours. Pist. Art thou his friend? K. Hen. And his kinsman too. Pist. The figo for thee then! K. Hen. I thank you: God be with you! Pist. My name is Pistol called. K. Hen. It sorts well with your fierceness. Enter FLUELLEN and GoWER, severally. Gow. Captain Fluellen! [Exit. Flu. So! in the name of Cheshu Christ, speak lower. It is the greatest admiration in the universal 'orld, when the true and auncient prerogatifes and laws of the wars is not kept: if you would take the pains but to examine the wars of Pompey the Great, you shall find, I warrant you, that there is no tiddle-taddle, or pibble-pabble, in Pompey's camp; I warrant you, you shall find the ceremonies of the wars, and the cares of it, and the forms of it, and the sobriety of it, and the modesty of it, to be otherwise. Gow. Why, the enemy is loud; you heard him all night. Flu. If the enemy is an ass and a fool, and a prating coxcomb, is it meet, think you, that we should also, look you, be an ass, and a fool, and a prating coxcomb; in your own conscience now?· Gow. I will speak lower. Flu. I pray you, and beseech you, that you will. [Exeunt Gower and Fluellen. K. Hen. Though it appear a little out of fashion, There is much care and valour in this Welshman. Enter BATES, COURT, and WILLIAMS. Court. Brother John Bates, is not that the morning which breaks yonder? Bates. I think it be: but we have no great cause to desire the approach of day. Will. We see yonder the beginning of the day, but, I think, we shall never see the end of it.-Who goes there? K. Hen. A friend. Will. Under what captain serve you? K. Hen. Under sir Thomas Erpingham. Will. A good old commander, and a most kind gentleman: I pray you, what thinks he of our estate? K. Hen. Even as men wrecked upon a sand, that look to be washed off the next tide. Bates. He hath not told his thought to the king? K. Hen. No; nor it is not meet he should. For, though I speak it to you, I think the king is but a man, as I am: the violet smells to him, as it doth to me; the |