SCENE I. France. Before Harfleur  Alarum. Enter the KING, EXETER, BEDFORD, GLOUCESTER, and soldiers with scaling-ladders    KING. 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]     SCENE II. Before Harfleur  Enter NYM, BARDOLPH, PISTOL, and BOY    BARDOLPH. On, on, on, on, on! to the breach, to the breach!   NYM. Pray thee, Corporal, stay; the knocks are too hot, and for     mine own part I have not a case of lives. The humour of it is too     hot; that is the very plain-song of it.   PISTOL. The plain-song is most just; for humours do abound:          Knocks go and come; God's vassals drop and die;                     And sword and shield                     In bloody field                  Doth win immortal fame.    BOY. Would I were in an alehouse in London! I wouid give all my     fame for a pot of ale and safety.   PISTOL. And I:                 If wishes would prevail with me,                My purpose should not fail with me,                    But thither would I hie.    BOY.             As duly, but not as truly,                    As bird doth sing on bough.                           Enter FLUELLEN    FLUELLEN. Up to the breach, you dogs!     Avaunt, you cullions!                 [Driving them forward]   PISTOL. Be merciful, great duke, to men of mould.     Abate thy rage, abate thy manly rage;     Abate thy rage, great duke.     Good bawcock, bate thy rage. Use lenity, sweet chuck.   NYM. These be good humours. Your honour wins bad humours.                                               Exeunt all but BOY   BOY. As young as I am, I have observ'd these three swashers. I am     boy to them all three; but all they three, though they would     serve me, could not be man to me; for indeed three such antics do     not amount to a man. For Bardolph, he is white-liver'd and     red-fac'd; by the means whereof 'a faces it out, but fights not.     For Pistol, he hath a killing tongue and a quiet sword; by the     means whereof 'a breaks words and keeps whole weapons. For Nym,     he hath heard that men of few words are the best men, and     therefore he scorns to say his prayers lest 'a should be thought     a coward; but his few bad words are match'd with as few good     deeds; for 'a never broke any man's head but his own, and that     was against a post when he was drunk. They will steal anything,     and call it purchase. Bardolph stole a lute-case, bore it twelve     leagues, and sold it for three halfpence. Nym and Bardolph are     sworn brothers in filching, and in Calais they stole a     fire-shovel; I knew by that piece of service the men would carry     coals. They would have me as familiar with men's pockets as their     gloves or their handkerchers; which makes much against my     manhood, if I should take from another's pocket to put into mine;     for it is plain pocketing up of wrongs. I must leave them and     seek some better service; their villainy goes against my weak     stomach, and therefore I must cast it up.               Exit                   Re-enter FLUELLEN, GOWER following    GOWER. Captain Fluellen, you must come presently to the mines; the     Duke of Gloucester would speak with you.   FLUELLEN. To the mines! Tell you the Duke it is not so good to come     to the mines; for, look you, the mines is not according to the     disciplines of the war; the concavities of it is not sufficient.     For, look you, th' athversary- you may discuss unto the Duke,     look you- is digt himself four yard under the countermines; by     Cheshu, I think 'a will plow up all, if there is not better     directions.   GOWER. The Duke of Gloucester, to whom the order of the siege is     given, is altogether directed by an Irishman- a very vallant     gentleman, i' faith.   FLUELLEN. It is Captain Macmorris, is it not?   GOWER. I think it be.   FLUELLEN. By Cheshu, he is an ass, as in the world: I will verify     as much in his beard; he has no more directions in the true     disciplines of the wars, look you, of the Roman disciplines, than     is a puppy-dog.                   Enter MACMORRIS and CAPTAIN JAMY    GOWER. Here 'a comes; and the Scots captain, Captain Jamy, with     him.   FLUELLEN. Captain Jamy is a marvellous falorous gentleman, that is     certain, and of great expedition and knowledge in th' aunchient     wars, upon my particular knowledge of his directions. By Cheshu,     he will maintain his argument as well as any military man in the     world, in the disciplines of the pristine wars of the Romans.   JAMY. I say gud day, Captain Fluellen.   FLUELLEN. God-den to your worship, good Captain James.   GOWER. How now, Captain Macmorris! Have you quit the mines? Have     the pioneers given o'er?   MACMORRIS. By Chrish, la, tish ill done! The work ish give over,     the trompet sound the retreat. By my hand, I swear, and my     father's soul, the work ish ill done; it ish give over; I would     have blowed up the town, so Chrish save me, la, in an hour. O,     tish ill done, tish ill done; by my hand, tish ill done!   FLUELLEN. Captain Macmorris, I beseech you now, will you voutsafe     me, look you, a few disputations with you, as partly touching or     concerning the disciplines of the war, the Roman wars, in the way     of argument, look you, and friendly communication; partly to     satisfy my opinion, and partly for the satisfaction, look you, of     my mind, as touching the direction of the military discipline,     that is the point.   JAMY. It sall be vary gud, gud feith, gud captains bath; and I sall     quit you with gud leve, as I may pick occasion; that sall I,     marry.   MACMORRIS. It is no time to discourse, so Chrish save me. The day     is hot, and the weather, and the wars, and the King, and the     Dukes; it is no time to discourse. The town is beseech'd, and the     trumpet call us to the breach; and we talk and, be Chrish, do     nothing. 'Tis shame for us all, so God sa' me, 'tis shame to     stand still; it is shame, by my hand; and there is throats to be     cut, and works to be done; and there ish nothing done, so Chrish     sa' me, la.   JAMY. By the mess, ere theise eyes of mine take themselves to     slomber, ay'll de gud service, or I'll lig i' th' grund for it;     ay, or go to death. And I'll pay't as valorously as I may, that     sall I suerly do, that is the breff and the long. Marry, I wad     full fain heard some question 'tween you tway.   FLUELLEN. Captain Macmorris, I think, look you, under your     correction, there is not many of your nation-   MACMORRIS. Of my nation? What ish my nation? Ish a villain, and a     bastard, and a knave, and a rascal. What ish my nation? Who talks     of my nation?   FLUELLEN. Look you, if you take the matter otherwise than is meant,     Captain Macmorris, peradventure I shall think you do not use me     with that affability as in discretion you ought to use me, look     you; being as good a man as yourself, both in the disciplines of     war and in the derivation of my birth, and in other     particularities.   MACMORRIS. I do not know you so good a man as myself; so     Chrish save me, I will cut off your head.   GOWER. Gentlemen both, you will mistake each other.   JAMY. Ah! that's a foul fault.              [A parley sounded]   GOWER. The town sounds a parley.   FLUELLEN. Captain Macmorris, when there is more better opportunity     to be required, look you, I will be so bold as to tell you I know     the disciplines of war; and there is an end.          Exeunt     SCENE III. Before the gates of Harfleur  Enter the GOVERNOR and some citizens on the walls.  Enter the KING and all his train before the gates    KING HENRY. How yet resolves the Governor of the town?     This is the latest parle we will admit;     Therefore to our best mercy give yourselves     Or, like to men proud of destruction,     Defy us to our worst; for, as I am a soldier,     A name that in my thoughts becomes me best,     If I begin the batt'ry once again,     I will not leave the half-achieved Harfleur     Till in her ashes she lie buried.     The gates of mercy shall be all shut up,     And the flesh'd soldier, rough and hard of heart,     In liberty of bloody hand shall range     With conscience wide as hell, mowing like grass     Your fresh fair virgins and your flow'ring infants.     What is it then to me if impious war,     Array'd in flames, like to the prince of fiends,     Do, with his smirch'd complexion, all fell feats     Enlink'd to waste and desolation?     What is't to me when you yourselves are cause,     If your pure maidens fall into the hand     Of hot and forcing violation?     What rein can hold licentious wickednes     When down the hill he holds his fierce career?     We may as bootless spend our vain command     Upon th' enraged soldiers in their spoil,     As send precepts to the Leviathan     To come ashore. Therefore, you men of Harfleur,     Take pity of your town and of your people     Whiles yet my soldiers are in my command;     Whiles yet the cool and temperate wind of grace     O'erblows the filthy and contagious clouds     Of heady murder, spoil, and villainy.     If not- why, in a moment look to see     The blind and bloody with foul hand     Defile the locks of your shrill-shrieking daughters;     Your fathers taken by the silver beards,     And their most reverend heads dash'd to the walls;     Your naked infants spitted upon pikes,     Whiles the mad mothers with their howls confus'd     Do break the clouds, as did the wives of Jewry     At Herod's bloody-hunting slaughtermen.     What say you? Will you yield, and this avoid?     Or, guilty in defence, be thus destroy'd?   GOVERNOR. Our expectation hath this day an end:     The Dauphin, whom of succours we entreated,     Returns us that his powers are yet not ready     To raise so great a siege. Therefore, great King,     We yield our town and lives to thy soft mercy.     Enter our gates; dispose of us and ours;     For we no longer are defensible.   KING HENRY. Open your gates. [Exit GOVERNOR] Come, uncle Exeter,     Go you and enter Harfleur; there remain,     And fortify it strongly 'gainst the French;     Use mercy to them all. For us, dear uncle,     The winter coming on, and sickness growing     Upon our soldiers, we will retire to Calais.     To-night in Harfleur will we be your guest;     To-morrow for the march are we addrest.                [Flourish. The KING and his train enter the town]     SCENE IV. Rouen. The FRENCH KING'S palace  Enter KATHERINE and ALICE    KATHERINE. Alice, tu as ete en Angleterre, et tu parles bien le     langage.   ALICE. Un peu, madame.   KATHERINE. Je te prie, m'enseignez; il faut que j'apprenne a     parler. Comment appelez-vous la main en Anglais?   ALICE. La main? Elle est appelee de hand.   KATHERINE. De hand. Et les doigts?   ALICE. Les doigts? Ma foi, j'oublie les doigts; mais je me     souviendrai. Les doigts? Je pense qu'ils sont appeles de fingres;     oui, de fingres.   KATHERINE. La main, de hand; les doigts, de fingres. Je pense que     je suis le bon ecolier; j'ai gagne deux mots d'Anglais vitement.     Comment appelez-vous les ongles?   ALICE. Les ongles? Nous les appelons de nails.   KATHERINE. De nails. Ecoutez; dites-moi si je parle bien: de hand,     de fingres, et de nails.   ALICE. C'est bien dit, madame; il est fort bon Anglais.   KATHERINE. Dites-moi l'Anglais pour le bras.   ALICE. De arm, madame.   KATHERINE. Et le coude?   ALICE. D'elbow.   KATHERINE. D'elbow. Je m'en fais la repetition de tous les mots que     vous m'avez appris des a present.   ALICE. Il est trop difficile, madame, comme je pense.   KATHERINE. Excusez-moi, Alice; ecoutez: d'hand, de fingre, de     nails, d'arma, de bilbow.   ALICE. D'elbow, madame.   KATHERINE. O Seigneur Dieu, je m'en oublie! D'elbow.     Comment appelez-vous le col?   ALICE. De nick, madame.   KATHERINE. De nick. Et le menton?   ALICE. De chin.   KATHERINE. De sin. Le col, de nick; le menton, de sin.   ALICE. Oui. Sauf votre honneur, en verite, vous prononcez les mots     aussi droit que les natifs d'Angleterre.   KATHERINE. Je ne doute point d'apprendre, par la grace de Dieu, et     en peu de temps.   ALICE. N'avez-vous pas deja oublie ce que je vous ai enseigne?   KATHERINE. Non, je reciterai a vous promptement: d'hand, de fingre,     de mails-   ALICE. De nails, madame.   KATHERINE. De nails, de arm, de ilbow.   ALICE. Sauf votre honneur, d'elbow.   KATHERINE. Ainsi dis-je; d'elbow, de nick, et de sin. Comment     appelez-vous le pied et la robe?   ALICE. Le foot, madame; et le count.   KATHERINE. Le foot et le count. O Seigneur Dieu! ils sont mots de     son mauvais, corruptible, gros, et impudique, et non pour les     dames d'honneur d'user: je ne voudrais prononcer ces mots devant     les seigneurs de France pour tout le monde. Foh! le foot et le     count! Neanmoins, je reciterai une autre fois ma lecon ensemble:     d'hand, de fingre, de nails, d'arm, d'elbow, de nick, de sin, de     foot, le count.   ALICE. Excellent, madame!   KATHERINE. C'est assez pour une fois: allons-nous a diner.                                                           Exeunt     SCENE V. The FRENCH KING'S palace  Enter the KING OF FRANCE, the DAUPHIN, DUKE OF BRITAINE, the CONSTABLE OF FRANCE, and others    FRENCH KING. 'Tis certain he hath pass'd the river Somme.   CONSTABLE. And if he be not fought withal, my lord,     Let us not live in France; let us quit an,     And give our vineyards to a barbarous people.   DAUPHIN. O Dieu vivant! Shall a few sprays of us,     The emptying of our fathers' luxury,     Our scions, put in wild and savage stock,     Spirt up so suddenly into the clouds,     And overlook their grafters?   BRITAINE. Normans, but bastard Normans, Norman bastards!     Mort Dieu, ma vie! if they march along     Unfought withal, but I will sell my dukedom     To buy a slobb'ry and a dirty farm     In that nook-shotten isle of Albion.   CONSTABLE. Dieu de batailles! where have they this mettle?     Is not their climate foggy, raw, and dull;     On whom, as in despite, the sun looks pale,     Killing their fruit with frowns? Can sodden water,     A drench for sur-rein'd jades, their barley-broth,     Decoct their cold blood to such valiant heat?     And shall our quick blood, spirited with wine,     Seem frosty? O, for honour of our land,     Let us not hang like roping icicles     Upon our houses' thatch, whiles a more frosty people     Sweat drops of gallant youth in our rich fields-     Poor we call them in their native lords!   DAUPHIN. By faith and honour,     Our madams mock at us and plainly say     Our mettle is bred out, and they will give     Their bodies to the lust of English youth     To new-store France with bastard warriors.   BRITAINE. They bid us to the English dancing-schools     And teach lavoltas high and swift corantos,     Saying our grace is only in our heels     And that we are most lofty runaways.   FRENCH KING. Where is Montjoy the herald? Speed him hence;     Let him greet England with our sharp defiance.     Up, Princes, and, with spirit of honour edged     More sharper than your swords, hie to the field:     Charles Delabreth, High Constable of France;     You Dukes of Orleans, Bourbon, and of Berri,     Alengon, Brabant, Bar, and Burgundy;     Jaques Chatillon, Rambures, Vaudemont,     Beaumont, Grandpre, Roussi, and Fauconbridge,     Foix, Lestrake, Bouciqualt, and Charolois;     High dukes, great princes, barons, lords, and knights,     For your great seats now quit you of great shames.     Bar Harry England, that sweeps through our land     With pennons painted in the blood of Harfleur.     Rush on his host as doth the melted snow     Upon the valleys, whose low vassal seat     The Alps doth spit and void his rheum upon;     Go down upon him, you have power enough,     And in a captive chariot into Rouen     Bring him our prisoner.   CONSTABLE. This becomes the great.     Sorry am I his numbers are so few,     His soldiers sick and famish'd in their march;     For I am sure, when he shall see our army,     He'll drop his heart into the sink of fear,     And for achievement offer us his ransom.   FRENCH KING. Therefore, Lord Constable, haste on Montjoy,     And let him say to England that we send     To know what willing ransom he will give.     Prince Dauphin, you shall stay with us in Rouen.   DAUPHIN. Not so, I do beseech your Majesty.   FRENCH KING. Be patient, for you shall remain with us.     Now forth, Lord Constable and Princes all,     And quickly bring us word of England's fall.          Exeunt     SCENE VI. The English camp in Picardy  Enter CAPTAINS, English and Welsh, GOWER and FLUELLEN    GOWER. How now, Captain Fluellen! Come you from the bridge?   FLUELLEN. I assure you there is very excellent services committed     at the bridge.   GOWER. Is the Duke of Exeter safe?   FLUELLEN. The Duke of Exeter is as magnanimous as Agamemnon; and a     man that I love and honour with my soul, and my heart, and my     duty, and my live, and my living, and my uttermost power. He is     not- God be praised and blessed!- any hurt in the world, but     keeps the bridge most valiantly, with excellent discipline. There     is an aunchient Lieutenant there at the bridge- I think in my     very conscience he is as valiant a man as Mark Antony; and he is     man of no estimation in the world; but I did see him do as     gallant service.   GOWER. What do you call him?   FLUELLEN. He is call'd Aunchient Pistol.   GOWER. I know him not.                              Enter PISTOL    FLUELLEN. Here is the man.   PISTOL. Captain, I thee beseech to do me favours.     The Duke of Exeter doth love thee well.   FLUELLEN. Ay, I praise God; and I have merited some love at his     hands.   PISTOL. Bardolph, a soldier, firm and sound of heart,     And of buxom valour, hath by cruel fate     And giddy Fortune's furious fickle wheel,     That goddess blind,     That stands upon the rolling restless stone-   FLUELLEN. By your patience, Aunchient Pistol. Fortune is painted     blind, with a muffler afore her eyes, to signify to you that     Fortune is blind; and she is painted also with a wheel, to     signify to you, which is the moral of it, that she is turning,     and inconstant, and mutability, and variation; and her foot, look     you, is fixed upon a spherical stone, which rolls, and rolls, and     rolls. In good truth, the poet makes a most excellent description     of it: Fortune is an excellent moral.   PISTOL. Fortune is Bardolph's foe, and frowns on him;     For he hath stol'n a pax, and hanged must 'a be-     A damned death!     Let gallows gape for dog; let man go free,     And let not hemp his windpipe suffocate.     But Exeter hath given the doom of death     For pax of little price.     Therefore, go speak- the Duke will hear thy voice;     And let not Bardolph's vital thread be cut     With edge of penny cord and vile reproach.     Speak, Captain, for his life, and I will thee requite.   FLUELLEN. Aunchient Pistol, I do partly understand your meaning.   PISTOL. Why then, rejoice therefore.   FLUELLEN. Certainly, Aunchient, it is not a thing to rejoice at;     for if, look you, he were my brother, I would desire the Duke to     use his good pleasure, and put him to execution; for discipline     ought to be used.   PISTOL. Die and be damn'd! and figo for thy friendship!   FLUELLEN. It is well.   PISTOL. The fig of Spain!                                 Exit   FLUELLEN. Very good.   GOWER. Why, this is an arrant counterfeit rascal; I remember him     now- a bawd, a cutpurse.   FLUELLEN. I'll assure you, 'a utt'red as prave words at the pridge     as you shall see in a summer's day. But it is very well; what he     has spoke to me, that is well, I warrant you, when time is serve.   GOWER. Why, 'tis a gull a fool a rogue, that now and then goes to     the wars to grace himself, at his return into London, under the     form of a soldier. And such fellows are perfect in the great     commanders' names; and they will learn you by rote where services     were done- at such and such a sconce, at such a breach, at such a     convoy; who came off bravely, who was shot, who disgrac'd, what     terms the enemy stood on; and this they con perfectly in the     phrase of war, which they trick up with new-tuned oaths; and what     a beard of the General's cut and a horrid suit of the camp will     do among foaming bottles and ale-wash'd wits is wonderful to be     thought on. But you must learn to know such slanders of the age,     or else you may be marvellously mistook.   FLUELLEN. I tell you what, Captain Gower, I do perceive he is not     the man that he would gladly make show to the world he is; if I     find a hole in his coat I will tell him my mind. [Drum within]     Hark you, the King is coming; and I must speak with him from the     pridge.           Drum and colours. Enter the KING and his poor soldiers,                           and GLOUCESTER      God pless your Majesty!   KING HENRY. How now, Fluellen! Cam'st thou from the bridge?   FLUELLEN. Ay, so please your Majesty. The Duke of Exeter has very     gallantly maintain'd the pridge; the French is gone off, look     you, and there is gallant and most prave passages. Marry, th'     athversary was have possession of the pridge; but he is enforced     to retire, and the Duke of Exeter is master of the pridge; I can     tell your Majesty the Duke is a prave man.   KING HENRY. What men have you lost, Fluellen!   FLUELLEN. The perdition of th' athversary hath been very great,     reasonable great; marry, for my part, I think the Duke hath lost     never a man, but one that is like to be executed for robbing a     church- one Bardolph, if your Majesty know the man; his face is     all bubukles, and whelks, and knobs, and flames o' fire; and his     lips blows at his nose, and it is like a coal of fire, sometimes     plue and sometimes red; but his nose is executed and his fire's     out.   KING HENRY. We would have all such offenders so cut off. And we     give express charge that in our marches through the country there     be nothing compell'd from the villages, nothing taken but paid     for, none of the French upbraided or abused in disdainful     language; for when lenity and cruelty play for a kingdom the     gentler gamester is the soonest winner.                          Tucket. Enter MONTJOY    MONTJOY. You know me by my habit.   KING HENRY. Well then, I know thee; what shall I know of thee?   MONTJOY. My master's mind.   KING HENRY. Unfold it.   MONTJOY. Thus says my king. Say thou to Harry of England: Though we     seem'd dead we did but sleep; advantage is a better soldier than     rashness. Tell him we could have rebuk'd him at Harfleur, but     that we thought not good to bruise an injury till it were full     ripe. Now we speak upon our cue, and our voice is imperial:     England shall repent his folly, see his weakness, and admire our     sufferance. Bid him therefore consider of his ransom, which must     proportion the losses we have borne, the subjects we have lost,     the disgrace we have digested; which, in weight to re-answer, his     pettiness would bow under. For our losses his exchequer is too     poor; for th' effusion of our blood, the muster of his kingdom     too faint a number; and for our disgrace, his own person kneeling     at our feet but a weak and worthless satisfaction. To this add     defiance; and tell him, for conclusion, he hath betrayed his     followers, whose condemnation is pronounc'd. So far my king and     master; so much my office.   KING HENRY. What is thy name? I know thy quality.   MONTJOY. Montjoy.   KING HENRY. Thou dost thy office fairly. Turn thee back,     And tell thy king I do not seek him now,     But could be willing to march on to Calais     Without impeachment; for, to say the sooth-     Though 'tis no wisdom to confess so much     Unto an enemy of craft and vantage-     My people are with sickness much enfeebled;     My numbers lessen'd; and those few I have     Almost no better than so many French;     Who when they were in health, I tell thee, herald,     I thought upon one pair of English legs     Did march three Frenchmen. Yet forgive me, God,     That I do brag thus; this your air of France     Hath blown that vice in me; I must repent.     Go, therefore, tell thy master here I am;     My ransom is this frail and worthless trunk;     My army but a weak and sickly guard;     Yet, God before, tell him we will come on,     Though France himself and such another neighbour     Stand in our way. There's for thy labour, Montjoy.     Go, bid thy master well advise himself.     If we may pass, we will; if we be hind'red,     We shall your tawny ground with your red blood     Discolour; and so, Montjoy, fare you well.     The sum of all our answer is but this:     We would not seek a battle as we are;     Nor as we are, we say, we will not shun it.     So tell your master.   MONTJOY. I shall deliver so. Thanks to your Highness.     Exit   GLOUCESTER. I hope they will not come upon us now.   KING HENRY. We are in God's hand, brother, not in theirs.     March to the bridge, it now draws toward night;     Beyond the river we'll encamp ourselves,     And on to-morrow bid them march away.                 Exeunt     SCENE VII. The French camp near Agincourt  Enter the CONSTABLE OF FRANCE, the LORD RAMBURES, the DUKE OF ORLEANS, the DAUPHIN, with others    CONSTABLE. Tut! I have the best armour of the world.     Would it were day!   ORLEANS. You have an excellent armour; but let my horse have his     due.   CONSTABLE. It is the best horse of Europe.   ORLEANS. Will it never be morning?   DAUPHIN. My Lord of Orleans and my Lord High Constable, you talk of     horse and armour?   ORLEANS. You are as well provided of both as any prince in the     world.   DAUPHIN. What a long night is this! I will not change my horse with     any that treads but on four pasterns. Ca, ha! he bounds from the     earth as if his entrails were hairs; le cheval volant, the     Pegasus, chez les narines de feu! When I bestride him I soar, I     am a hawk. He trots the air; the earth sings when he touches it;     the basest horn of his hoof is more musical than the pipe of     Hermes.   ORLEANS. He's of the colour of the nutmeg.   DAUPHIN. And of the heat of the ginger. It is a beast for Perseus:     he is pure air and fire; and the dull elements of earth and water     never appear in him, but only in patient stillness while his     rider mounts him; he is indeed a horse, and all other jades you     may call beasts.   CONSTABLE. Indeed, my lord, it is a most absolute and excellent     horse.   DAUPHIN. It is the prince of palfreys; his neigh is like the     bidding of a monarch, and his countenance enforces homage.   ORLEANS. No more, cousin.   DAUPHIN. Nay, the man hath no wit that cannot, from the rising of     the lark to the lodging of the lamb, vary deserved praise on my     palfrey. It is a theme as fluent as the sea: turn the sands into     eloquent tongues, and my horse is argument for them all: 'tis a     subject for a sovereign to reason on, and for a sovereign's     sovereign to ride on; and for the world- familiar to us and     unknown- to lay apart their particular functions and wonder at     him. I once writ a sonnet in his praise and began thus: 'Wonder     of nature'-   ORLEANS. I have heard a sonnet begin so to one's mistress.   DAUPHIN. Then did they imitate that which I compos'd to my courser;     for my horse is my mistress.   ORLEANS. Your mistress bears well.   DAUPHIN. Me well; which is the prescript praise and perfection of a     good and particular mistress.   CONSTABLE. Nay, for methought yesterday your mistress shrewdly     shook your back.   DAUPHIN. So perhaps did yours.   CONSTABLE. Mine was not bridled.   DAUPHIN. O, then belike she was old and gentle; and you rode like a     kern of Ireland, your French hose off and in your strait     strossers.   CONSTABLE. You have good judgment in horsemanship.   DAUPHIN. Be warn'd by me, then: they that ride so, and ride not     warily, fall into foul bogs. I had rather have my horse to my     mistress.   CONSTABLE. I had as lief have my mistress a jade.   DAUPHIN. I tell thee, Constable, my mistress wears his own hair.   CONSTABLE. I could make as true a boast as that, if I had a sow to     my mistress.   DAUPHIN. 'Le chien est retourne a son propre vomissement, et la     truie lavee au bourbier.' Thou mak'st use of anything.   CONSTABLE. Yet do I not use my horse for my mistress, or any such     proverb so little kin to the purpose.   RAMBURES. My Lord Constable, the armour that I saw in your tent     to-night- are those stars or suns upon it?   CONSTABLE. Stars, my lord.   DAUPHIN. Some of them will fall to-morrow, I hope.   CONSTABLE. And yet my sky shall not want.   DAUPHIN. That may be, for you bear a many superfluously, and 'twere     more honour some were away.   CONSTABLE. Ev'n as your horse bears your praises, who would trot as     well were some of your brags dismounted.   DAUPHIN. Would I were able to load him with his desert! Will it     never be day? I will trot to-morrow a mile, and my way shall be     paved with English faces.   CONSTABLE. I will not say so, for fear I should be fac'd out of my     way; but I would it were morning, for I would fain be about the     ears of the English.   RAMBURES. Who will go to hazard with me for twenty prisoners?   CONSTABLE. You must first go yourself to hazard ere you have them.   DAUPHIN. 'Tis midnight; I'll go arm myself.               Exit   ORLEANS. The Dauphin longs for morning.   RAMBURES. He longs to eat the English.   CONSTABLE. I think he will eat all he kills.   ORLEANS. By the white hand of my lady, he's a gallant prince.   CONSTABLE. Swear by her foot, that she may tread out the oath.   ORLEANS. He is simply the most active gentleman of France.   CONSTABLE. Doing is activity, and he will still be doing.   ORLEANS. He never did harm that I heard of.   CONSTABLE. Nor will do none to-morrow: he will keep that good name     still.   ORLEANS. I know him to be valiant.   CONSTABLE. I was told that by one that knows him better than you.   ORLEANS. What's he?   CONSTABLE. Marry, he told me so himself; and he said he car'd not     who knew it.   ORLEANS. He needs not; it is no hidden virtue in him.   CONSTABLE. By my faith, sir, but it is; never anybody saw it but       his lackey.     'Tis a hooded valour, and when it appears it will bate.   ORLEANS. Ill-wind never said well.   CONSTABLE. I will cap that proverb with 'There is flattery in     friendship.'   ORLEANS. And I will take up that with 'Give the devil his due.'   CONSTABLE. Well plac'd! There stands your friend for the devil;     have at the very eye of that proverb with 'A pox of the devil!'   ORLEANS. You are the better at proverbs by how much 'A fool's bolt     is soon shot.'   CONSTABLE. You have shot over.   ORLEANS. 'Tis not the first time you were overshot.                            Enter a MESSENGER    MESSENGER. My Lord High Constable, the English lie within fifteen     hundred paces of your tents.   CONSTABLE. Who hath measur'd the ground?   MESSENGER. The Lord Grandpre.   CONSTABLE. A valiant and most expert gentleman. Would it were day!     Alas, poor Harry of England! he longs not for the dawning as we     do.   ORLEANS. What a wretched and peevish fellow is this King of     England, to mope with his fat-brain'd followers so far out of his     knowledge!   CONSTABLE. If the English had any apprehension, they would run     away.   ORLEANS. That they lack; for if their heads had any intellectual     armour, they could never wear such heavy head-pieces.   RAMBURES. That island of England breeds very valiant creatures;     their mastiffs are of unmatchable courage.   ORLEANS. Foolish curs, that run winking into the mouth of a Russian     bear, and have their heads crush'd like rotten apples! You may as     well say that's a valiant flea that dare eat his breakfast on the     lip of a lion.   CONSTABLE. Just, just! and the men do sympathise with the mastiffs     in robustious and rough coming on, leaving their wits with their     wives; and then give them great meals of beef and iron and steel;     they will eat like wolves and fight like devils.   ORLEANS. Ay, but these English are shrewdly out of beef.   CONSTABLE. Then shall we find to-morrow they have only stomachs to     eat, and none to fight. Now is it time to arm. Come, shall we     about it?   ORLEANS. It is now two o'clock; but let me see- by ten     We shall have each a hundred Englishmen.              Exeunt