Ram. What, will you have them weep our horses' blood? How shall we then behold their natural tears? Enter a Messenger. Mess. The English are embattled, you French peers. Con. To horse, you gallant princes! straight to horse! Do but behold yon poor and starved band, And your fair show shall suck away their souls; That our French gallants shall to-day draw out, 'Tis positive against all exceptions, lords, Who in unnecessary action swarm About our squares of battle, were enow But that our honours must not. What's to say? And all is done. Then, let the trumpets sound Enter GRANDpré. Grand. Why do you stay so long, my lords of France? Yond' island carrions, desperate of their bones, Ill-favour'dly become the morning field: Their ragged curtains poorly are let loose, With torch-staves in their hand; and their poor jades Con. They have said their prayers, and they stay for death. And after fight with them? Con. 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. SCENE III. The English Camp. [Exeunt. Enter the English Host; GLOSTER, Bedford, Exeter, SalisBURY, and WESTMORELAND. Glo. Where is the king? Bed. The king himself is rode to view their battle. West. Of fighting men they have full threescore thousand. Exe. There's five to one; besides, they all are fresh. Sal. God's arm strike with us! 't is a fearful odds. God be wi' you, princes all; I'll to my charge: warriors all, adieu! Bed. Farewell, good Salisbury; and good luck go with thee! Exe. Farewell, kind lord. Fight valiantly to-day: And yet I do thee wrong, to mind thee of it, For thou art fram'd of the firm truth of valour. [Exit SALISBury. Bed. He is as full of valour, as of kindness; O! that we now had here Enter King Henry. But one ten thousand of those men in England, K. Hen. What's he, that wishes so? My cousin Westmoreland? —No, my fair cousin : To do our country loss; and if to live, The fewer men, the greater share of honour. God's will! I pray thee, wish not one man more. Nor care I who doth feed upon my cost; I am the most offending soul alive. No, 'faith, my coz, wish not a man from England: And rouse him at the name of Crispian. And say to-morrow is Saint Crispian : Then will he strip his sleeve, and show his scars. But he'll remember with advantages What feats he did that day. Then shall our names, We few, we happy few, we band of brothers: And gentlemen in England, now a-bed, Shall think themselves accurs'd they were not here, Enter SALISBURY. Sal. My sovereign lord, bestow yourself with speed: The French are bravely in their battles set, And will with all expedience charge on us. K. Hen. All things are ready, if our minds be so. K. Hen. Thou dost not wish more help from England, cousin? West. God's will! my liege, would you and I alone, Without more help, might fight this royal battle. K. Hen. Why, now thou hast unwish'd five thousand men, Which likes me better than to wish us one. You know your places: God be with you all! Tucket. Enter MONTJOY. Mont. Once more I come to know of thee, king Harry, If for thy ransom thou wilt now compound, For, certainly, thou art so near the gulf, Thy followers of repentance; that their souls May make a peaceful and a sweet retire From off these fields, where, wretches, their poor bodies Must lie and fester. K. Hen. Who hath sent thee now? Mont. The Constable of France. K. Hen. I pray thee, bear my former answer back: Bid them achieve me, and then sell my bones. Good God! why should they mock poor fellows thus? The man, that once did sell the lion's skin While the beast liv'd, was kill'd with hunting him. A many of our bodies shall, no doubt, Find native graves, upon the which, I trust, Killing in relapse of mortality. |