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 knight,
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 largesst universal, like the sun,

His liberal eye doth give to every one,
Thawing cold fear.

20-iv. Chorus.

176

His bloody brow

With his mail'd hand‡ then wiping, forth he goes;
Like to a harvest-man, that's tasked to mow

Or all, or lose his hire.

a

* Over-saucy.

† Bounty.

i. e. His hand covered, or armed, with mail.

28-i. 3.

177

That Julius Cæsar was a famous man;
With what his valour did enrich his wit,
His wit set down to make his valour live:
Death makes no conquest of this conqueror;
For now he lives in fame, though not in life.

178

24-iii. 6.

The Greeks are strong, and skilful to their strength,
Fierce to their skill, and to their fierceness valiant;
But I am weaker than a woman's tear,
Tamer than sleep, fonder* than ignorance;

And skill-less as unpractised infancy.

179

I have, thou gallant Trojan, seen thee oft,
Labouring for destiny, make cruel way

26-i. 1.

Through ranks of Greekish youth: and I have seen thee,

As hot as Perseus, spur thy Phrygian steed,

Despising many forfeits and subduements,

When thou hast hung thy advanced sword i' the air,
Not letting it decline on the declined;†
That I have said to some my standers-by

Lo, Jupiter is yonder, dealing life !

And I have seen thee pause, and take thy breath,
When that a ring of Greeks have hemm'd thee in,
Like an Olympian wrestling.
26-iv. 5.

180

To what base uses we may return! Why may not imagination trace the noble dust of Alexander, till it find it stopping a bung-hole? As thus, Alexander died, Alexander was buried, Alexander returneth to dust; the dust is earth of earth we make loam: And why of that loam, whereto he was converted, might they not stop a beer barrel?

Imperious Cæsar, dead, and turn'd to clay,
Might stop a hole to keep the wind away;
O, that the earth, which kept the world in awe,
Should patch a wall to expel the winter's flaw!
36-v. 1.

181

I remember, when the fight was done,
When I was dry with rage, and extreme toil,
Breathless and faint, leaning upon my sword,
Came there a certain lord, neat, trimly dress'd,
Fresh as a bridegroom, and his chin, new reap'd,
Show'd like a stubble land at harvest-home;
He was perfumed like a milliner;

And 'twixt his finger and his thumb he held
A pouncet-box,* which ever and anon
He gave his nose, and took't away again-

Who, therewith angry, when it next came there,
Took it in snuff;-and still he smiled and talk'd;
And, as the soldiers bore dead bodies by,
He call'd them-untaught knaves, unmannerly,
To bring a slovenly unhandsome corse
Betwixt the wind and his nobility.

With many holiday and lady terms
He question'd me:

I then, all smarting, with my wounds being cold,
To be so pester'd with a popinjay,t

Out of my grieft and my impatience,

Answer'd neglectingly, I know not what;

For he made me mad,

To see him shine so brisk, and smell so sweet,

And talk so like a waiting-gentlewoman,

Of guns, and drums, and wounds, (God save the mark!) And telling me, the sovereign'st thing on earth

Was parmaceti, for an inward bruise;

And that it was great pity, so it was,
That villanous saltpetre should be digg'd
Out of the bowels of the harmless earth,
Which many a good tall fellow had destroy'd
So cowardly; and, but for these vile guns,
He would himself have been a soldier.

182

18-i. 3.

O Hero! what a Hero had'st thou been,
If half thy outward graces had been placed
About thy thoughts, and counsels of thy heart!

183

Those he commands, move only in command,

* A small box for musk or other perfumes. + Pain.

6-iv. 1.

† Parrot.

§ Brave.

Nothing in love: now does he feel his title
Hang loose about him, like a giant's robe
Upon a dwarfish thief.

184

His nature is too noble for the world:

He would not flatter Neptune for his trident,

15-v. 2.

Or Jove for his power to thunder. His heart's his

mouth:

What his breast forges, that his tongue must vent;

And being angry, does forget that ever

He heard the name of death.

185

Turn him to any cause of policy,

The Gordian knot of it he will unloose,

28-iii. 1.

Familiar as his garter; that, when he speaks,
The air, a charter'd libertine, is still,

And the mute wonder lurketh in men's ears,

To steal his sweet and honey'd sentences.

186

So much is my poverty of spirit,

So mighty, and so many, my defects,

20-i. 1.

That I would rather hide me from my greatness,―
Being a bark to brook no mighty sea,-
Than in my greatness covet to be hid,
And in the vapour of my glory smother'd.

187

20-iii. 6.

A sponge that soaks up the king's countenance, his rewards, his authorities. But such officers do the king best service in the end: He keeps them, like an ape, in the corner of his jaw; first mouthed, to be last swallowed: When he needs what you have gleaned, it is but squeezing you, and, sponge, you shall be dry again. 36-iv. 2.

188

He hath resisted law,

And therefore law shall scorn him farther trial

Than the severity of the public power,

Which he so sets at nought.

189

28-iii. 1.

So cowards fight when they can fly no farther;

So doves do peck the falcon's piercing talons;
So desperate thieves, all hopeless of their lives,
Breathe out invectives 'gainst the officers.

190

23-i. 4.

That face of his I do remember well;
Yet, when I saw it last, it was besmear'd
As black as Vulcan, in the smoke of war:
A bawbling vessel was he captain of,
For shallow draught, and bulk, unprizable;
With which such scathful grapple did he make
With the most noble bottom of our fleet,
That very envy, and the tongue of loss,
Cried fame and honour on him.

191

4—v. 1.

To seem to affect the malice and displeasure of the people, is as bad as that which he dislikes, to flatter them for their love.

192

28-ii. 2.

The common people swarm like summer-flies:
And whither fly the gnats, but to the sun? 23-ii. 6.

193

They do prank them in authority,

Against all noble sufferance.

194

28-iii. 1.

How smooth and even they do bear themselves!

As if allegiance in their bosom sat,

Crowned with faith and constant loyalty.

195

He's loved of the distracted multitude,

20-ii. 2.

Who like not in their judgment, but their eyes;

And, where 'tis so, the offender's scourge is weigh'd,

But never the offence.

196

Look, as I blow this feather from my face,

And as the air blows it to me again,
Obeying with my wind when I do blow,
And yielding to another when it blows,
Commanded always by the greater gust;

36-iv. 3.

Such is the lightness of you common men. 23-iii. 1.