out of my way: But I would it were morning, for I would fain be about the ears of the English.

Ram. Who will go to hazard with me for twenty English prisoners?

Con. You must first go yourself to hazard, ere you have them.

Dau. 'Tis midnight, I'll go arm myself. [Exit. Orl. The Dauphin longs for morning.

Ram. He longs to eat the English.

Con. I think, he will eat all he kills.

Orl. By the white hand of my lady, he's a gallant prince.

Con. Swear by her foot, that she may tread out the oath.

Orl. He is, simply, the most active gentleman of France.

Con. Doing is activity: and he will still be doing.
Orl. He never did harm, that I heard of.

Con. Nor will do none to-morrow; he will keep that good name still.

Orl. I know him to be valiant.

Con. I was told that, by one that knows him better than you.

Orl. What's he?

Con. Marry, he told me so himself; and he said, he cared not who knew it.

Orl. He needs not, it is no hidden virtue in him. Con. By my faith, sir, but it is; never any body saw it, but his lackey: 'tis a hooded valour; and, when it appears, it will bate.

6 'Tis a hooded valour; and, when it appears, it will bate.' This poor pun depends upon the equivocal use of bate. When a hawk is unhooded her first action is to bate (i. e. beat her wings, or flutter). The hawk wants no courage, but invariably bates upon the removal of her hood. The Constable would insinuate by his double entendre that the Dauphin's courage, when it appears (i. e. when he prepares for encounter), will bate; i. e. soon diminish or evaporate.

Orl. Ill will never said well.

Con. I will cap that proverb with-There is flattery in friendship.

Orl. And I will take up that with—Give the devil his due.

Con. Well placed; there stands your friend for the devil: have at the very eye of that proverb, with —a pox of the devil.

Orl. You are the better at proverbs, by how much -A fool's bolt is soon shot.

Con. You have shot over.

Orl. 'Tis not the first time you were overshot.

Enter a Messenger.

Mess. My lord high constable, the English lie within fifteen hundred paces of your tent.

Con. Who hath measured the ground?
Mess. The Lord Grandpré.

Con. A valiant and most expert gentleman.'Would, it were day7!-Alas, poor Harry of England! He longs not for the dawning, as we do.

Orl. What a wretched and peevish fellow is this king of England, to mope with his fat-brained followers so far out of his knowledge!

Con. If the English had any apprehension, they would run away.

Orl. That they lack; for if their heads had any intellectual armour, they could never wear such heavy head-pieces.

Ram. That island of England breeds very valiant creatures; their mastiffs are of unmatchable courage.

7 Instead of this and the succeeding speeches, the quartos conclude this scene with a couplet:

Come, come away;

The sun is high, and we wear out the day.'

8 Peevish, i. e. foolish. Vide note on Comedy of Errors, Act iv. Se. 1, p. 172.

Orl. Foolish curs! that run winking into the mouth of a Russian bear, and have their heads crushed like rotten apples: You may as well say, that's a valiant flea, that dare eat his breakfast on the lip of a lion.

Con. Just, just; and the men do sympathize with the mastiffs, in robustious and rough coming on, leaving their wits with their wives; and then give them great meals of beef, and iron and steel, they will eat like wolves, and fight like devils. Orl. Ay, but these English are shrewdly out of beef.

Con. Then we shall find to-morrow-they have only stomachs to eat, and none to fight. Now is it time to arm: Come, shall we about it?

Orl. It is now two o'clock: but, let me see,

Chor. Now entertain conjecture of a time, When creeping murmur, and the poring dark, Fills the wide vessel of the universe1.

From camp to camp, through the foul womb of night, The hum of either army stilly sounds,

Warburton says

1Fills the wide vessel of the universe.' universe for horizon. Upon which Johnson remarks:- The universe, in its original sense, no more means this globe singly than the circuit of the horizon; but however large in its philosophical sense, it may be poetically used for as much of the world as falls under observation.'

2 The hum of either army stilly sounds.' This expression applied to sound is not peculiar to Shakspeare; we have a still small voice' in the sacred writings, and Florio's Dictionary in the word sussura, has a buzzing, a murmuring, a charming, a humming, a soft, gentle, still noise, as of running water falling

That the fix'd sentinels almost receive

4

The secret whispers of each other's watch3:
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
Piercing the night's dull ear; and from the tents,
The armourers, accomplishing the knights,
With busy hammers closing rivets up5,
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

with a gentle stream, or as trees make with the wind,' &c. It is the murmure tacito' of Ovid.

3 The secret whispers of each other's watch.' Holinshed says that the distance between the two armies was but two hundred and fifty paces; and again, at their coming into the village fires were made (by the English) to give light on every side, as there were likewise by the French hoste.'

4 It has been said that the distant visages of the soldiers would appear of an umber colour when beheld through the light of midnight fires. I suspect that nothing more is meant than 'shadow'd face.' The epithet 'paly flames' is against the other interpretation. Umbre for shadow is common in our elder writers. Thus Cavendish, in his Metrical Visions, Prologue, p. 2 :Under the umber of an oke with bowes pendant.'

5 The armourerers accomplishing the knights, With busy hammers closing rivets up.'

This does not solely refer to the riveting the plate armour before it was put on, but as to part when it was on.

The top of the

cuirass had a little projecting bit of iron that passed through a hole pierced through the bottom of the casque. When both were put on, the smith or armourer presented himself, with his rivetting hammer, to close the rivet up; so that the party's head should remain steady, notwithstanding the force of any blow that might be given on the cuirass or helmet. This custom prevailed more particularly in tournaments. See Variétés Historiques, 1752, 12mo. tom. ii. p. 73. Douce.

6 The confident and over-lusty French

Do the low-rated English play at dice.

Over-lusty, i. e. over-saucy.

Thus in North's Plutarch:- Cassius's soldiers did shewe themselves verie stubborn and lustie in the camp.' This is Steevens's explanation, the word lusty

Do the low-rated English play at dice;
And chide the cripple tardy-gaited night,
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 gestures 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 over-bears attaint,
With cheerful semblance, and sweet majesty;
That every wretch, pining and pale before,
Beholding him, plucks comfort from his looks:
A largess universal, like the sun,

His liberal eye doth give to every one,

Thawing cold fear. Then, mean and gentle all,
Behold, as may unworthiness define,

however, was synonymous with lively. To be lively or lustie, to be in his force or strength, Vigeo.' It also meant in good plight, jolly.' By Do the low rated English play at dice;' is meant do play them away, or play for them at dice. The circumstance is from Holinshed.

their gestures sad, Investing lank lean cheeks.'

Thus Sidney, in Astrophel, song 2, has:

Anger invests the face with a lovely grace.'