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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! Then should the warlike Harry, like himself, Assume the port of Mars; and at his heels, Leash’d in like hounds, should famine, sword and fire Crouch for employment. But pardon, and gentles all, The flat unraised spirits that have dared 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? 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 Are now confined 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 on man, 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 o’er times, 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.
Oh, I wish for a fiery Muse, that could rise To the highest level of creativity, A kingdom as a stage, with princes to act And kings to watch the growing spectacle! Then the warrior Henry, just as he is, Would take on the appearance of Mars, the god of war, With famine, sword, and fire at his heels, Like hounds waiting for their turn. But forgive us, and all of you good people, For the low, unrefined spirits who have dared On this humble stage to present Such a great story: can this small stage contain The vast fields of France? Or can we stuff The very helmets that terrified the air at Agincourt Into this wooden circle? Oh, forgive us! Since even a crooked shape can Represent a million things in a small space; And let us, like ciphers in this grand story, Use your imagination to fill in the gaps. Imagine that within the walls of this theatre Are two great kingdoms, separated by the dangerous, narrow sea, Complete our imperfections with your thoughts; Break one man into a thousand pieces in your mind, And create imaginary power; Picture, when we talk of horses, that you see them Leaving proud hoofprints on the earth; For it’s your thoughts that now must make our kings real, Carry them around; skipping over time, Turning many years into just an hourglass: and for that help, Allow me, Chorus, to guide this story; I humbly ask you, like a prologue, To listen patiently, and judge kindly, our play.