The Bodleian First Folio

A digital facsimile of the First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Bodleian Arch. G c.7.



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Reference: i2r - Histories, p. 83

Left Column


The Life of Henry The Fift Orleance.

I, but these English are shrowdly out of

[1730]

Beefe.

Const.

Then shall we finde to morrow, they haue only

stomackes to eate, and none to fight. Now is it time to

arme: come, shall we about it?

Orleance.

It is now two a Clock: but let me see, by ten

[1735]

Wee shall haue each a hundred English men.

Exeunt.
Actus Tertius. [Act 4]
[Prologue] Chorus. Now entertaine coniecture of a time, When creeping Murmure and the poring Darke Fills the wide Vessell of the Vniuerse. From Camp to Camp, through the foule Womb of Night
[1740]
The Humme of eyther Army stilly sounds; That the fixt Centinels almost receiue The secret Whispers of each others Watch. Fire answers fire, and through their paly flames Each Battaile sees the others vmber'd face.
[1745]
Steed threatens Steed, in high and boastfull Neighs Piercing the Nights dull Eare: and from the Tents, The Armourers accomplishing the Knights, With busie Hammers closing Riuets vp, Giue dreadfull note of preparation.
[1750]
The Countrey Cocks doe crow, the Clocks doe towle: And the third howre of drowsie Morning nam'd, Prowd of their Numbers, and secure in Soule, The confident and ouer-lustie French, Doe the low-rated English play at Dice;
[1755]
And chide the creeple-tardy-gated Night, Who like a foule and ougly Witch doth limpe So tediously away. The poore condemned English, Like Sacrifices, by their watchfull Fires Sit patiently, and inly ruminate
[1760]
The Mornings danger: and their gesture sad, Inuesting lanke-leane Cheekes, and Warre-worne Coats, Presented them vnto the gazing Moone So many horride Ghosts. O now, who will behold The Royall Captaine of this ruin'd Band
[1765]
Walking from Watch to Watch, from Tent to Tent; Let him cry, Prayse and Glory on his head: For forth he goes, and visits all his Hoast, Bids them good morrow with a modest Smyle, And calls them Brothers, Friends, and Countreymen.
[1770]
Vpon his Royall Face there is no note, How dread an Army hath enrounded him; Nor doth he dedicate one iot of Colour Vnto the wearie and all-watched Night: But freshly lookes, and ouer-beares Attaint,
[1775]
With chearefull semblance, and sweet Maiestie: That euery Wretch, pining and pale before, Beholding him, plucks comfort from his Lookes. A Largesse vniuersall, like the Sunne, His liberall Eye doth giue to euery one,
[1780]
Thawing cold feare, that meane and gentle all Behold, as may vnworthinesse define. A little touch of Harry in the Night, And so our Scene must to the Battaile flye: Where, O for pitty, we shall much disgrace,
[1785]
With foure or fiue most vile and ragged foyles, (Right ill dispos'd, in brawle ridiculous)

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[full image]

Right Column


The Name of Agincourt: Yet sit and see, Minding true things, by what their Mock'ries bee. Exit.
[Act 4, Scene 1] Enter the King, Bedford, and Gloucester. King. Gloster, 'tis true that we are in great danger,
[1790]
The greater therefore should our Courage be. God morrow Brother Bedford: God Almightie, There is some soule of goodnesse in things euill, Would men obseruingly distill it out. For our bad Neighbour makes vs early stirrers,
[1795]
Which is both healthfull, and good husbandry. Besides, they are our outward Consciences, And Preachers to vs all; admonishing, That we should dresse vs fairely for our end. Thus may we gather Honey from the Weed,
[1800]
And make a Morall of the Diuell himselfe. Enter Erpingham. Good morrow old Sir Thomas Erpingham: A good soft Pillow for that good white Head, Were better then a churlish turfe of France.
Erping. Not so my Liege, this Lodging likes me better,
[1805]
Since I may say, now lye I like a King.
King. 'Tis good for men to loue their present paines, Vpon example, so the Spirit is eased: And when the Mind is quickned, out of doubt The Organs, though defunct and dead before,
[1810]
Breake vp their drowsie Graue, and newly moue With casted slough, and fresh legeritie. Lend me thy Cloake Sir Thomas: Brothers both, Commend me to the Princes in our Campe; Doe my good morrow to them, and anon
[1815]
Desire them all to my Pauillion.
Gloster. We shall, my Liege. Erping. Shall I attend your Grace? King. No, my good Knight: Goe with my Brothers to my Lords of England:
[1820]
I and my Bosome must debate a while, And then I would no other company.
Erping. The Lord in Heauen blesse thee, Noble Harry. Exeunt. King. God a mercy old Heart, thou speak'st cheare- fully. Enter Pistoll. Pist.

Che vous la?

King.
[1825]

A friend.

Pist.

Discusse vnto me, art thou Officer, or art thou

base, common, and popular?

King.

I am a Gentleman of a Company.

Pist.

Trayl'st thou the puissant Pyke?

King.
[1830]

Euen so: what are you?

Pist.

As good a Gentleman as the Emperor.

King.

Then you are a better then the King.

Pist.

The King's a Bawcock, and a Heart of Gold, a

Lad of Life, an Impe of Fame, of Parents good, of Fist

[1835]

most valiant: I kisse his durtie shooe, and from heart-

string I loue the louely Bully. What is thy Name?

King.

Harry le Roy.

Pist.

Le Roy? a Cornish Name: art thou of Cornish Crew?

King.

No, I am a Welchman.

Pist.
[1840]

Know'st thou Fluellen?

King.

Yes.

Pist.

Tell him Ile knock his Leeke about his Pate vpon

S. Dauies day.

King.

Doe not you weare your Dagger in your Cappe

[1845]

that day, least he knock that about yours.

i2 Pist. Art

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[Prologue] Chorus. Now entertaine coniecture of a time, When creeping Murmure and the poring Darke Fills the wide Vessell of the Vniuerse. From Camp to Camp, through the foule Womb of Night
[1740]
The Humme of eyther Army stilly sounds; That the fixt Centinels almost receiue The secret Whispers of each others Watch. Fire answers fire, and through their paly flames Each Battaile sees the others vmber'd face.
[1745]
Steed threatens Steed, in high and boastfull Neighs Piercing the Nights dull Eare: and from the Tents, The Armourers accomplishing the Knights, With busie Hammers closing Riuets vp, Giue dreadfull note of preparation.
[1750]
The Countrey Cocks doe crow, the Clocks doe towle: And the third howre of drowsie Morning nam'd, Prowd of their Numbers, and secure in Soule, The confident and ouer-lustie French, Doe the low-rated English play at Dice;
[1755]
And chide the creeple-tardy-gated Night, Who like a foule and ougly Witch doth limpe So tediously away. The poore condemned English, Like Sacrifices, by their watchfull Fires Sit patiently, and inly ruminate
[1760]
The Mornings danger: and their gesture sad, Inuesting lanke-leane Cheekes, and Warre-worne Coats, Presented them vnto the gazing Moone So many horride Ghosts. O now, who will behold The Royall Captaine of this ruin'd Band
[1765]
Walking from Watch to Watch, from Tent to Tent; Let him cry, Prayse and Glory on his head: For forth he goes, and visits all his Hoast, Bids them good morrow with a modest Smyle, And calls them Brothers, Friends, and Countreymen.
[1770]
Vpon his Royall Face there is no note, How dread an Army hath enrounded him; Nor doth he dedicate one iot of Colour Vnto the wearie and all-watched Night: But freshly lookes, and ouer-beares Attaint,
[1775]
With chearefull semblance, and sweet Maiestie: That euery Wretch, pining and pale before, Beholding him, plucks comfort from his Lookes. A Largesse vniuersall, like the Sunne, His liberall Eye doth giue to euery one,
[1780]
Thawing cold feare, that meane and gentle all Behold, as may vnworthinesse define. A little touch of Harry in the Night, And so our Scene must to the Battaile flye: Where, O for pitty, we shall much disgrace,
[1785]
With foure or fiue most vile and ragged foyles, (Right ill dispos'd, in brawle ridiculous) The Name of Agincourt: Yet sit and see, Minding true things, by what their Mock'ries bee.
Exit.
 

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   <head type="supplied">[Prologue]</head>
   <sp who="#F-h5-cho">
      <speaker rend="italic">Chorus.</speaker>
      <l n="1736">Now entertaine coniecture of a time,</l>
      <l n="1737">When creeping Murmure and the poring Darke</l>
      <l n="1738">Fills the wide Vessell of the Vniuerse.</l>
      <l n="1739">From Camp to Camp, through the foule Womb of Night</l>
      <l n="1740">The Humme of eyther Army stilly sounds;</l>
      <l n="1741">That the fixt Centinels almost receiue</l>
      <l n="1742">The secret Whispers of each others Watch.</l>
      <l n="1743">Fire answers fire, and through their paly flames</l>
      <l n="1744">Each Battaile sees the others vmber'd face.</l>
      <l n="1745">Steed threatens Steed, in high and boastfull Neighs</l>
      <l n="1746">Piercing the Nights dull Eare: and from the Tents,</l>
      <l n="1747">The Armourers accomplishing the Knights,</l>
      <l n="1748">With busie Hammers closing Riuets vp,</l>
      <l n="1749">Giue dreadfull note of preparation.</l>
      <l n="1750">The Countrey Cocks doe crow, the Clocks doe towle:</l>
      <l n="1751">And the third howre of drowsie Morning nam'd,</l>
      <l n="1752">Prowd of their Numbers, and secure in Soule,</l>
      <l n="1753">The confident and ouer-lustie French,</l>
      <l n="1754">Doe the low-rated English play at Dice;</l>
      <l n="1755">And chide the creeple-tardy-gated Night,</l>
      <l n="1756">Who like a foule and ougly Witch doth limpe</l>
      <l n="1757">So tediously away. The poore condemned English,</l>
      <l n="1758">Like Sacrifices, by their watchfull Fires</l>
      <l n="1759">Sit patiently, and inly ruminate</l>
      <l n="1760">The Mornings danger: and their gesture sad,</l>
      <l n="1761">Inuesting lanke-leane Cheekes, and Warre-worne Coats,</l>
      <l n="1762">Presented them vnto the gazing Moone</l>
      <l n="1763">So many horride Ghosts. O now, who will behold</l>
      <l n="1764">The Royall Captaine of this ruin'd Band</l>
      <l n="1765">Walking from Watch to Watch, from Tent to Tent;</l>
      <l n="1766">Let him cry, Prayse and Glory on his head:</l>
      <l n="1767">For forth he goes, and visits all his Hoast,</l>
      <l n="1768">Bids them good morrow with a modest Smyle,</l>
      <l n="1769">And calls them Brothers, Friends, and Countreymen.</l>
      <l n="1770">Vpon his Royall Face there is no note,</l>
      <l n="1771">How dread an Army hath enrounded him;</l>
      <l n="1772">Nor doth he dedicate one iot of Colour</l>
      <l n="1773">Vnto the wearie and all-watched Night:</l>
      <l n="1774">But freshly lookes, and ouer-beares Attaint,</l>
      <l n="1775">With chearefull semblance, and sweet Maiestie:</l>
      <l n="1776">That euery Wretch, pining and pale before,</l>
      <l n="1777">Beholding him, plucks comfort from his Lookes.</l>
      <l n="1778">A Largesse vniuersall, like the Sunne,</l>
      <l n="1779">His liberall Eye doth giue to euery one,</l>
      <l n="1780">Thawing cold feare, that meane and gentle all</l>
      <l n="1781">Behold, as may vnworthinesse define.</l>
      <l n="1782">A little touch of<hi rend="italic">Harry</hi>in the Night,</l>
      <l n="1783">And so our Scene must to the Battaile flye:</l>
      <l n="1784">Where, O for pitty, we shall much disgrace,</l>
      <l n="1785">With foure or fiue most vile and ragged foyles,</l>
      <l n="1786">(Right ill dispos'd, in brawle ridiculous)</l>
      <cb n="2"/>
      <l n="1787">The Name of Agincourt: Yet sit and see,</l>
      <l n="1788">Minding true things, by what their Mock'ries bee.</l>
   </sp>
   <stage rend="italic rightJustified" type="exit">Exit.</stage>
</div>

        
        

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