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There will we take our stand, and there will we Do our last deeds of men. Come on, brave mates! Take up our honour'd treasure; and, so burden'd, He that doth grapple with us had as lief Pull from the lion's hug his bosom'd whelp.

Louder and louder still the dreadful sound Of battle swells. Is it not nearer us? This lofty tower the widest view commands; I pray thee look thyself, mine eyes are dark, And I see nothing. Oh, what see'st thou? Tell me whate'er it be.

Nothing but clouds of smoke and eddying dust: A dun and grumly darkness spreads o'er all, From which arise those horrid sounds, but naught Distinctive of the fight can I discern.