Henry V by William Shakespeare (i want to read a book txt) 📕

hope. Constable And yet my sky shall not want. Dauphin That may be, for you bear a many superfluously, and ’twere more honour some were away. Constable Even as your horse bears your praises; who would trot as well, were some of your brags dismounted. Dauphin Would I were able to load him with his desert! Will it never be day? I will trot tomorrow a mile, and my way shall be paved with English faces. Constable I will not say so, for fear I should be faced out of my way: but I would it were morning; for I would fain be about the ears of the English. Rambures Who will go to hazard with me for twenty prisoners? Constable You must first go yourself to hazard, ere you have them. Dauphin ’Tis midnight; I’ll go arm myself. Exit. Orleans The Dauphin longs for morning. Rambures He longs to eat the English. Constable I think he will eat all he kills. Orleans By the white hand of my lady, he’s a gallant prince. Constable Swear by her foot, that she may tread out the oath. Orleans He is simply the most active gentleman of France. Constable Doing is activity; and he will still be doing. Orleans He never did harm, that I heard of. Constable Nor will do none tomorrow: he will keep that good name still. Orleans I know him to be valiant. Constable I was told that by one that knows him better than you. Orleans What’s he? Constable Marry, he told me so himself; and he said he cared not who knew it. Orleans He needs not; it is no hidden virtue in him. Constable By my faith, sir, but it is; never anybody saw it but his lackey: ’tis a hooded valour; and when it appears, it will bate. Orleans Ill will never said well. Constable I will cap that proverb with “There is flattery in friendship.” Orleans And I will take up that with “Give the devil his due.” Constable Well placed: there stands your friend for the devil: have at the very eye of that proverb with “A pox of the devil.” Orleans You are the better at proverbs, by how much “A fool’s bolt is soon shot.” Constable You have shot over. Orleans ’Tis not the first time you were overshot. Enter a Messenger. Messenger My lord high constable, the English lie within fifteen hundred paces of your tents. Constable Who hath measured the ground? Messenger The Lord Grandpré. Constable A valiant and most expert gentleman. Would it were day! Alas, poor Harry of England! he longs not for the dawning as we do. Orleans What a wretched and peevish fellow is this king of England, to mope with his fat-brained followers so far out of his knowledge! Constable If the English had any apprehension, they would run away. Orleans That they lack; for if their heads had any intellectual armour, they could never wear such heavy headpieces. Rambures That island of England breeds very valiant creatures; their mastiffs are of unmatchable courage. Orleans 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. Constable Just, just; and the men do sympathize with the mastiffs in robustious and rough coming on, leaving their wits with their wives: and then give them great meals of beef and iron and steel, they will eat like wolves and fight like devils. Orleans Ay, but these English are shrewdly out of beef. Constable Then shall we find tomorrow they have only stomachs to eat and none to fight. Now is it time to arm: come, shall we about it? Orleans

It is now two o’clock: but, let me see, by ten
We shall have each a hundred Englishmen. Exeunt.

Act IV Prologue Enter Chorus. Chorus

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:
Fire answers fire, and through their paly flames
Each battle sees the other’s umber’d face;
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:
The country cocks do crow, the clocks do toll,
And the third hour of drowsy morning name.
Proud of their numbers and secure in soul,
The confident and over-lusty French
Do the low-rated English play at dice;
And chide the cripple tardy-gaited night
Who, like a foul and ugly witch, doth limp
So tediously away. The poor condemned English,
Like sacrifices, by their watchful fires
Sit patiently and inly ruminate
The morning’s danger, and their gesture sad
Investing lank-lean cheeks and war-worn coats
Presenteth them unto the gazing moon
So many horrid ghosts. 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:
A largess universal like the sun
His liberal eye doth give to everyone,
Thawing cold fear, that 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-disposed in brawl ridiculous,
The name of Agincourt. Yet sit and see,
Minding true things by what their mock’ries be. Exit.

Scene I

The English camp at Agincourt.

Enter King Henry, Bedford, and Gloucester. King Henry

Gloucester, ’tis true that we are in great danger;
The greater therefore should our courage be.
Good morrow, brother Bedford. God Almighty!
There is