SCENE V.
The same. Another Room in the same.
Enter the French King, the Dauphin, Duke of
Bourbon, the Constable of France, and Others.
Fr. King.
'Tis certain, he hath pass'd the river Somme.
Con.
And 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.
Dau.
O Dieu vivant! shall a few sprays of us,—
The emptying of our father's luxury2 note
,
Our scions, put in wild and savage3 note stock,
Spirt up so suddenly into the clouds,
And overlook their grafters?
-- 354 --
Bour.
Normans, but bastard Normans, Norman bastards!
Mort de ma vie! if they march along
Unfought withal, but I will sell my dukedom,
To buy a slobbery and a dirty farm
In that nook-shotten isle of Albion4 note
.
Con.
Dieu de battailes! where have they this mettle?
Is not their climate foggy, raw, and dull?
On whom, as in despite* note, the sun looks pale,
Killing their fruit with frowns? Can sodden water,
A drench for sur-rein'd jades5 note
, 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 people6 note
-- 355 --
Sweat drops of gallant youth7 note in our rich fields;
Poor—we may call them8 note, in their native lords.
Dau.
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.
Bour.
They bid us—to the English dancing-schools,
And teach lavoltas high9 note
, and swift corantos;
-- 356 --
Saying, our grace is only in our heels,
And that we are most lofty runaways.
Fr. King.
Where is Mountjóy, the herald; speed him hence;
Let him greet England with our sharp defiance.—
Up, princes; and, with spirit of honour edg'd,
More sharper than your swords, hie to the field:
Charles De-la-bret, high constable of France1 note
;
You dukes of Orleans, Bourbon, and of Berry,
Alençon, Brabant, Bar, and Burgundy;
-- 357 --
Jaques Chatillion, Rambures, Vaudemont,
Beaumont, Grandpré, Roussi, and Fauconberg,
Foix, Lestrale, Bouciqualt, and Charolois;
High dukes, great princes, barons, lords, and knights2 note
,
For your great seats, now quit you of great shames.
Bar Harry England, that sweeps through our land
With pennons3 note
painted in the blood of Harfleur:
Rush on his host, as doth the melted snow4 note
-- 358 --
Upon the vallies; whose low vassal seat
The Alps doth spit and void his rheum upon5 note
:
Go down upon him,—you have power enough,—
And in a captive chariot, into Roüen
Bring him our prisoner.
Con.
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 ransom6 note
.
Fr. King.
Therefore, lord constable, haste on Montjóy;
And let him say to England, that we send
-- 359 --
To know what willing ransom he will give.—
Prince Dauphin, you shall stay with us in Roüen7 note.
Dau.
Not so, I do beseech your majesty.
Fr. 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.
James Boswell [1821], The plays and poems of William Shakspeare, with the corrections and illustrations of various commentators: comprehending A Life of the Poet, and an enlarged history of the stage, by the late Edmond Malone. With a new glossarial index (J. Deighton and Sons, Cambridge) [word count] [S10201].
