feelers-for-jeans-and-atshirt:
“Tell me some of the lines,” Summer asked, smiling a little bit. “I bet Shakespeare sounds fantastic rolling off your tongue, in that accent.”
“Ah, I’m sorry, I’m going to have to stand for that..” He smiled, putting the half full glass of water on the side. He looked prepared to act, just as if there was a camera only a few feet from him.
“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;
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.
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 yeoman,
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!’” He called, almost breathless of the words, his lips curling to a satisfied smile as he finished, trying his best to put every emphasized word to push out of his lungs like the last.[I’m not sure of some of these words are right, I listened to the clip and typed it down ^_^;;]
[Let’s just make google do the work for us!]
Summer gaped up at him, eyes sparkling. “Dear gods and little fishes, Tom! That was /glorious/. You amazing man, you.” She grinned, half laughing. “Hast aught else to please mine ears with, good lord?” She clasped her hands together, looking up, but couldn’t stop grinning.