Hippies, part two.
I just couldn’t face myself, although, the cat found me oddly alluring, and I jumped a quick shower before sallying forth unto the second day of mud and music.
Title: Life Of King Henry The Fifth, The
Act III. Scene I. France. Before Harfleur.
Alarums. Enter King Henry, Exeter, Bedford, Gloucester, and Soldiers, with scaling-ladders.
K. Hen. Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more;
Or close the wall up with our English dead.
In peace there’s nothing so becomes a man
As modest stillness and humility:
But when the blast of war blows in our ears,
Then imitate the action of the tiger;
Stiffen the sinews, summon up the blood,
Disguise fair nature with hard-favour’d rage;
Then lend the eye a terrible aspect;
Let it pry through the portage of the head
Like the brass cannon; let the brow o’erwhelm it
As fearfully as doth a galled rock
O’erhang and jutty his confounded base,
Swill’d with the wild and wasteful ocean.
Now set the teeth and stretch the nostril wide,
Hold hard the breath, and bend up every spirit
To his full height! On, on you noblest English!
Whose blood is fet from fathers of war-proof;
Fathers that, like so many Alexanders,
Have in these parts from morn till even fought,
And sheath’d their swords for lack of argument.
Dishonour not your mothers; now attest
That those whom you call’d fathers did beget you.
Be copy now to men of grosser blood,
And teach them how to war. And you, good yeomen,
Whose limbs were made in England, show us here
The mettle of your pasture; let us swear
That you are worth your breeding; which I doubt not;
For there is none of you so mean and base
That hath not noble lustre in your eyes.
I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips,
Straining upon the start. The game’s afoot:
Follow your spirit; and upon this charge
Cry ‘God for Harry! England and Saint George!’
[Exeunt. Alarum, and chambers go off.>
I’m beat and it’s late. The ATM machine is over there, we don’t sell any T-shirts – these are for the staff, and you can’t take any beer out of the festival grounds.
If I dream about this stuff, then I’m going to be seriously irritated. I’m sure good fun was had by all, I wouldn’t know.
Before I left Shady Acres, I kept thinking about that quote, and looked it up, copied it over, in its entirety. I used to know that one by heart, and I found it rather inspirational, heading over to the “beach.”
There might have been a any number of “chemically challenged” attendees, but I didn’t have too much contact with them. I kept asking other workers about their favorite stupid questions, but I figure I got about the best. Remember, this was a reggae festival.
Best question, or comment, really, I’m sitting in the information booth, a young woman approaches us, “Hey, I’m looking for my friend, he’s black and has dreds, have you seen him?”
I guess you had to be there.
(Yeah get some other astrologer to combine reggae music and Elizabethan lit)