Page 1676 - Shakespeare - Vol. 2

ACT IV IT

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, [5]
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 [10]
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, [15]
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 [20]

Who, like a foul and ugly witch, doth limp
So tediously away. The poor condemnèd English,
Like sacrifices, by their watchful fires
Sit patiently, and inly ruminate
The morning’s danger, and their gesture sad [25]

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, [30]