ACT 2
Scene 4
...command. Farewell. Adieu.
Flourish. Enter the French King, the Dauphin, the Dukes of Berri and Brittany, the Constable, and others.
...attends her not.
O peace, Prince Dauphin!
You are too much mistaken in this king.
Question your Grace the late ambassadors
With what great state he heard their embassy,
How well supplied with noble councillors,
How modest in exception, and withal
How terrible in constant resolution,
And you shall find his vanities forespent
Were but the outside of the Roman Brutus,
Covering discretion with a coat of folly,
As gardeners do with ordure hide those roots
That shall first spring and be most delicate.
...of this consequence.
Flourish. They exit.
ACT 3
Scene 5
...Allons-nous à dîner.
Enter the King of France, the Dauphin, the Duke of Brittany, the Constable of France, and others.
...the river Somme.
An if he be not fought withal, my lord,
Let us not live in France. Let us quit all,
And give our vineyards to a barbarous people.
...isle of Albion.
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-reined jades, their barley broth,
Decoct their cold blood to such valiant heat?
And shall our quick blood, spirited with wine,
Seem frosty? O, for honor 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 may call them in their native lords.
...him our prisoner.
This becomes the great!
Sorry am I his numbers are so few,
His soldiers sick and famished 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.
...of England’s fall.
They exit.
Scene 7
...them march away.
Enter the Constable of France, the Lord Rambures, Orléans, Dauphin, with others.
Tut, I have the best armor of the world.
Would it were day!
...have his due.
It is the best horse of Europe.
...may call beasts.
Indeed, my lord, it is a most absolute and
excellent horse.
...and particular mistress.
Nay, for methought yesterday your mistress
shrewdly shook your back.
...perhaps did yours.
Mine was not bridled.
...your strait strossers.
You have good judgment in horsemanship.
...to my mistress.
I had as lief have my mistress a jade.
...his own hair.
I could make as true a boast as that if I had
a sow to my mistress.
...use of anything.
Yet do I not use my horse for my mistress,
or any such proverb so little kin to the purpose.
...suns upon it?
Stars, my lord.
...tomorrow, I hope.
And yet my sky shall not want.
...some were away.
Ev’n as your horse bears your praises—
who would trot as well were some of your brags
dismounted.
...with English faces.
I will not say so for fear I should be faced
out of my way. But I would it were morning, for I
would fain be about the ears of the English.
...for twenty prisoners?
You must first go yourself to hazard ere you
have them.
...eat the English.
I think he will eat all he kills.
...a gallant prince.
Swear by her foot, that she may tread out
the oath.
...gentleman of France.
Doing is activity, and he will still be doing.
...I heard of.
Nor will do none tomorrow. He will keep
that good name still.
...to be valiant.
I was told that by one that knows him
better than you.
... What’s he?
Marry, he told me so himself, and he said
he cared not who knew it.
...virtue in him.
By my faith, sir, but it is; never anybody
saw it but his lackey. ’Tis a hooded valor, and when
it appears, it will bate.
...never said well.
I will cap that proverb with “There is
flattery in friendship.”
...devil his due.”
Well placed; there stands your friend for
the devil. Have at the very eye of that proverb with
“A pox of the devil.”
...is soon shot.”
You have shot over.
...of your tents.
Who hath measured the ground?
...The Lord Grandpré.
A valiant and most expert gentleman.—
Would it were day! Alas, poor Harry of England! He
longs not for the dawning as we do.
...of his knowledge.
If the English had any apprehension, they
would run away.
...of a lion.
Just, just; and the men do sympathize 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.
...out of beef.
Then shall we find tomorrow they have
only stomachs to eat and none to fight. Now is it
time to arm. Come, shall we about it?
...a hundred Englishmen.
They exit.
ACT 4
Scene 2
...Cieux, cousin Orléans.
Enter Constable.
...my Lord Constable?
Hark how our steeds for present service neigh.
...you French peers.
To horse, you gallant princes, straight to horse.
Do but behold yond poor and starvèd band,
And your fair show shall suck away their souls,
Leaving them but the shales and husks of men.
There is not work enough for all our hands,
Scarce blood enough in all their sickly veins
To give each naked curtal ax a stain,
That our French gallants shall today draw out
And sheathe for lack of sport. Let us but blow on them,
The vapor of our valor will o’erturn them.
’Tis positive against all exceptions, lords,
That our superfluous lackeys and our peasants,
Who in unnecessary action swarm
About our squares of battle, were enough
To purge this field of such a hilding foe,
Though we upon this mountain’s basis by
Took stand for idle speculation,
But that our honors must not. What’s to say?
A very little little let us do,
And all is done. Then let the trumpets sound
The tucket sonance and the note to mount,
For our approach shall so much dare the field
That England shall couch down in fear and yield.
...it shows itself.
They have said their prayers, and they stay for death.
...fight with them?
I stay but for my guard. On, to the field!
I will the banner from a trumpet take
And use it for my haste. Come, come away.
The sun is high, and we outwear the day.
They exit.
Scene 5
...it but boys.
Enter Constable, Orléans, Bourbon, Dauphin, and Rambures.
Ô diable!
...not run away.
Why, all our ranks are broke.
...daughter is contaminate.
Disorder, that hath spoiled us, friend us now.
Let us on heaps go offer up our lives.
...be too long.
They exit.