1:13:02
presenteth them
unto the gazing moon...
1:13:06
so many horrid ghosts.
1:13:09
## [Flute]
1:13:12
Ahh.
1:13:29
[Laughing]
1:13:42
Oh, now,
1:13:45
who will behold the royal
captain of this ruined band,
1:13:50
walking from watch to watch,
from tent to tent?
1:13:54
Let him cry,
"Praise and glory on his head,"
1:13:59
For forth he goes
and visits all his host.
1:14:04
Bids them good morrow
with a modest smile...
1:14:07
and calls them "Brothers,
friends and countrymen."
1:14:13
A largesse universal,
like the sun...
1:14:16
his liberal eye
doth give to everyone,
1:14:20
thawing cold fear...
1:14:22
that mean and gentle all...
1:14:26
behold, as may
unworthiness define,
1:14:29
a little touch of Harry
in the night.
1:14:34
Good morrow, old
sir Thomas Erpingham.
1:14:36
A good soft pillow for that good white head
were better than a churlish turf of France.
1:14:41
Not so, my liege.
This lodging likes me better...
1:14:45
since I may say,
"Now lie I like a king."
1:14:48
[Chuckles]
Lend me thy cloak, Sir Thomas.
1:14:53
Brothers both, commend me
to the princes in our camp.
1:14:56
Do my good morrow to them, and
anon desire them all to my pavilion.