From camp to camp, through the foul womb of night, The hum of either army ftilly founds; That the fixt Sentinels almoft receive The fecret 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 fad, So many horrid ghofts. Who now beholds Walking from watch to watch, from tent to tent, the other's umber'd face.] Umber'd or umbred, is a term in blazonry, and fignifies fhadowed. WARBURTON. 5 Do the low rated English play at dice ;] i. e. do play them away at dice. WARBURTON. 6 INVESTING lank lean checks, &c.] A gefture investing checks and coats is nonfenfe. We fhould read, INVEST IN lank-lean checks. which is fenfe, i. e. their fad gefture was cloath'd, or fet off, in lean-cheeks and worn coats. The image is ftrong and pictu refque. WARBURTON. For For forth he goes and vifits all his hoft, Bids them good morrow with a modest smile, And calls them brothers, friends, and countrymen. How dread an army hath enrounded him; His lib'ral eye doth give to ev'ry one, A little touch of Harry in the night. The English Camp, at Agincourt, Enter King Henry and Gloucester. Lofter, 'tis true, "that we are in great K. Henry. Ganger; Fear; that mean and gentle all Behold, (as may, &c.] As this ftood, it was a moft perplex'd and nonfenfical Paffage: and could not be intelligible, but as I have corrected it. The Poet, then addreffing himself to every Degree of his Audience, tells VOL. IV. them; he'll fhew (as well as his unworthy Pen and Powers can defcribe it) a little Touch, or Sketch of this Hero in the Night. THEOBALD. Minding true things.] To mind is the fame as to call to remembrance. Ff The The greater therefore fhould our courage be. Enter Bedford. -Good morrow, brother Bedford.-God Almighty! For our bad neighbour makes us early stirrers, Enter Erpingham. Good morrow, old Sir Thomas Erpingham, Since I may fay, now lie I like a King: K. Henry. 'Tis good for men to love their prefent pain 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, Glou. We fhall, my Liege. Erping. Shall I attend your grace? K. Henry. No, my good knight, Go with my brothers to my lords of England. 8 Slough is the fkin which the ferpent annually throws off, and by the change of which he is fuppofed to regain new vigour and fresh youth. Legerity is light nefs, nimblenefs. I and my bofom muft debate a while, And then I would no other company. Erping. The Lord in heaven bless thee, noble Harry! K. Henry. God-a-mercy, old heart, thou fpeak'st chearfully. [Exeunt. Pift. Difcufs unto me, art thou officer? Or art thou base, common and popular? K. Henry. I am a gentleman of a company. Pift. Trail'ft thou the puiffant pike? K. Henry. Even fo. What are you? Pift. As good a gentleman as the Emperor. K. Henry. Then you are a better than the King. Pift The King's a bawcock, and a heart of gold, A lad of life, an imp of fame, Of parents good, of fift most valiant; I kifs his dirty fhoe, and from my heart-string Pift. Le Roy! a Cornish name: art thou of Cornish crew? K. Henry. No, I am a Welshman. Pift. Know'st thou Fluellen? K. Henry. Yes. Pift. Tell him, I'll knock his leek about his pate, Upon St. David's day. K. Henry. Do not you wear your dagger in your cap that day, left he knock that about yours.. Pift. Art thou his friend? K. Henry. And his kinfman too. Pift. The Figo for thee then! Ff2 K. Henry. K. Henry. I thank you. God be with you. K. Henry. It forts well with your fierceness. [Exit. [Manet King Henry, Enter Fluellen, and Gower, feverally. Gow. Captain Fluellen. Flu. So, in the name of Jefu Christ, speak fewer; it is the greatest admiration in the univerfal world, 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 tittle tattle, nor 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 fobrieties of it, and the modesty of it to be otherwise. Gow. Why, the enemy is loud, you hear him all night. Flu. If the enemy is an afs and a fool, and a prating coxcomb, is it meet, think you, that we should also, look you, be an afs and a fool, and a prating coxcomb, in your own confcience now? Gow. I will speak lower. Flu. I pray you, and beseech you, that you will. [Exeunt. K. Henry. Though it appear a little out of fashion, There is much care and valour in this Welshman. Enter three Soldiers, John Bates, Alexander Court, and Michael Williams. Court. Brother John Bates, is not that the morning which breaks yonder? Bates. |