Henry V William Shakespeare (readera ebook reader .TXT) đź“–
- Author: William Shakespeare
Book online «Henry V William Shakespeare (readera ebook reader .TXT) 📖». Author William Shakespeare
With fatal mouths gaping on girded Harfleur.
Suppose the ambassador from the French comes back;
Tells Harry that the king doth offer him
Katharine his daughter, and with her, to dowry,
Some petty and unprofitable dukedoms.
The offer likes not: and the nimble gunner
With linstock now the devilish cannon touches, Alarum, and chambers go off.
And down goes all before them. Still be kind,
And eke out our performance with your mind. Exit. Scene I
France. Before Harfleur.
Alarum. Enter King Henry, Exeter, Bedford, Gloucester and Soldiers, with scaling-ladders. King HenryOnce more unto the breach, dear friends, once more;
Or close the wall up with our English dead.
In peace there’s nothing so becomes a man
As modest stillness and humility:
But when the blast of war blows in our ears,
Then imitate the action of the tiger;
Stiffen the sinews, summon up the blood,
Disguise fair nature with hard-favour’d rage;
Then lend the eye a terrible aspect;
Let it pry through the portage of the head
Like the brass cannon; let the brow o’erwhelm it
As fearfully as doth a galled rock
O’erhang and jutty his confounded base,
Swill’d with the wild and wasteful ocean.
Now set the teeth and stretch the nostril wide,
Hold hard the breath and bend up every spirit
To his full height. On, on, you noblest English,
Whose blood is fet from fathers of war-proof!
Fathers that, like so many Alexanders,
Have in these parts from morn till even fought
And sheathed their swords for lack of argument:
Dishonour not your mothers; now attest
That those whom you call’d fathers did beget you.
Be copy now to men of grosser blood,
And teach them how to war. And you, good yeomen,
Whose limbs were made in England, show us here
The mettle of your pasture; let us swear
That you are worth your breeding; which I doubt not;
For there is none of you so mean and base,
That hath not noble lustre in your eyes.
I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips,
Straining upon the start. The game’s afoot:
Follow your spirit, and upon this charge
Cry, “God for Harry, England, and Saint George!” Exeunt. Alarum, and chambers go off.
The same.
Enter Nym, Bardolph, Pistol and Boy. Bardolph On, on, on, on, on! to the breach, to the breach! Nym Pray thee, corporal, stay: the knocks are too hot; and, for mine own part, I have not a case of lives: the humour of it is too hot, that is the very plainsong of it. PistolThe plain-song is most just; for humours do abound:
Knocks go and come; God’s vassals drop and die;
And sword and shield,
In bloody field,
Doth win immortal fame.
And I:
If wishes would prevail with me,
My purpose should not fail with me,
But thither would I hie.
As duly, but not as truly,
As bird doth sing on bough.
Be merciful, great duke, to men of mould.
Abate thy rage, abate thy manly rage,
Abate thy rage, great duke!
Good bawcock, bate thy rage; use lenity, sweet chuck!
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