Page 1644 - Shakespeare - Vol. 2

And any thing that may not misbecome
The mighty sender, doth he prize you at.
Thus says me King; an if your father’s highness [120]
Do not, in grant of all demands at large,

Sweeten the bitter mock you sent his majesty,
He’ll call you to so hot an answer of it,
That caves and womby vaultages of France
Shall chide your trespass and return your mock [125]

In second accent of his ordinance.

DAUPHIN
Say, if my father render fair return
It is against my will; for I desire
Nothing but odds with England: to that end,
As matching to his youth and vanity, [130]

I did present him with the Paris balls.

EXETER
He’ll make your Paris Louvre shake for it,
Were it the mistress-court of mighty Europe:
And, be assur’d, you’ll find a difference,

As we his subjects have in wonder found, [135]
Between the promise of his greener days
And these he masters now. Now be weighs time
Even to the utmost grain; that you shall read

In your own losses, if he stay in France.

FRENCH KING
To-morrow shall you know our mind at full. [140]
Flourish.

EXETER
Dispatch us with all speed, lest that our king
Come here himself to question our delay;

For he is footed in this land already.

FRENCH KING