King

Sir Thomas Dagworth, be thou near our person; Thy heart is richer than the vales of France: I will not part with such a man as thee. If Philip came armed in the ribs of death, And shook his mortal dart against my head, Thou’dst laugh his fury into nerveless shame! Go now, for thou art suited to the work, Throughout the camp; inflame the timorous, Blow up the sluggish into ardour, and Confirm the strong with strength, the weak inspire, And wing their brows with hope and expectation; Then to our tent return, and meet to council. [Exit DAGWORTH