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Enter Chorus. | |
Chor. O! for a Muse of fire, that would ascend | |
The brightest heaven of invention; | |
A kingdom for a stage, princes to act | |
And monarchs to behold the swelling scene. | 5 |
Then should the war-like Harry, like himself, | |
Assume the port of Mars; and at his heels, | |
Leashd in like hounds, should famine, sword, and fire | |
Crouch for employment. But pardon, gentles all, | |
The flat unraised spirits that hath dard | 10 |
On this unworthy scaffold to bring forth | |
So great an object: can this cockpit hold | |
The vasty fields of France? or may we cram | |
Within this wooden O the very casques | |
That did affright the air at Agincourt? | 15 |
O, pardon! since a crooked figure may | |
Attest in little place a million; | |
And let us, ciphers to this great accompt, | |
On your imaginary forces work. | |
Suppose within the girdle of these walls | 20 |
Are now confind two mighty monarchies, | |
Whose high upreared and abutting fronts | |
The perilous narrow ocean parts asunder: | |
Piece out our imperfections with your thoughts: | |
Into a thousand parts divide one man, | 25 |
And make imaginary puissance; | |
Think when we talk of horses that you see them | |
Printing their proud hoofs i the receiving earth; | |
For tis your thoughts that now must deck our kings, | |
Carry them here and there, jumping oer times, | 30 |
Turning the accomplishment of many years | |
Into an hour-glass: for the which supply, | |
Admit me Chorus to this history; | |
Who prologue-like your humble patience pray, | |
Gently to hear, kindly to judge, our play. [Exit. | 35 |
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