Page 1667 - Shakespeare - Vol. 2

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. [155]
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 [160]
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 hinder’d,
We shall your tawny ground with your red blood
Discolour: and so, Montjoy, fare you well. [165]
The sum of all our answer is but his:

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. [170]
[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. [175]
Exeunt.

Scene VII IT

Enter, the Constable of France, the Lord Rambures, Orleans, Dauphin, with