Fr. King.
Thus come the English with full power upon us;
^{3 note}

To answer royally in our defences.
Therefore the dukes of Berry, and of Bretagne,
Of Brabant, and of Orleans, shall make forth,—
And you, prince Dauphin,—with all swift dispatch,
To line, and new repair, our towns of war,
With men of courage, and with means defendant:
For England his approaches makes as fierce,
As waters to the sucking of a gulph.
It fits us then, to be as provident
As fear may teach us, out of late examples
Left by the fatal and neglected English
Upon our fields.

Dau.
My most redoubted father,
It is most meet we arm us 'gainst the foe:
For peace itself should not so dull a kingdom,
(Though war, nor no known quarrel, were in question)
But that defences, musters, preparations,
Should be maintain'd, assembled, and collected,
As were a war in expectation.
Therefore, I say, 'tis meet we all go forth,
To view the sick and feeble parts of France:
And let us do it with no shew of fear;
No, with no more, than if we heard that England
Were busied^{4 note} with a Whitsun morris-dance:
For, my good liege, she is so idly king'd^{5 note}
,
Her scepter so fantastically borne
By a vain, giddy, shallow, humourous youth,
That fear attends her not.

Con.
O peace, prince Dauphin!
You are too much mistaken in this king: ^note

Question your grace the late ambassadors,—
With what great state he heard their embassy,
How well supply'd with noble counsellors,
^{7 note}How modest in exception, and, withal,
How terrible in constant resolution,—
And you shall find, his vanities fore-spent
^{8 note}Were but the out-side of the Roman Brutus,
Covering discretion with a coat of folly; 9Q0775
As gardeners do with ordure hide those roots
That shall first spring, and be most delicate.

Dau.
Well, 'tis not so, my lord high constable,
But though we think it so, it is no matter:
In cases of defence, 'tis best to weigh
The enemy more mighty than he seems,
So the proportions of defence are fill'd;
Which, of a weak and niggardly projection, 9Q0776
Doth, like a miser, spoil his coat, with scanting
A little cloth.

Fr. King.
Think we king Harry strong;
And, princes, look, you strongly arm to meet him.
The kindred of him hath been flesh'd upon us;
And he is bred out of that bloody strain,

^{9 note}

^note:

Of that victorious stock; and let us fear
The native mightiness and ^{3 note}

Mess.
Ambassadors from Henry king of England
Do crave admittance to your majesty.

Fr. King.
We'll give them present audience. Go, and bring them.
You see, this chase is hotly follow'd, friends.

Dau.
Turn head, and stop pursuit: for coward dogs
Most ^{4 note}spend their mouths, when what they seem to threaten,
Runs far before them. Good my sovereign,
Take up the English short; and let them know
Of what a monarchy you are the head:
Self-love, my liege, is not so vile a sin,
As self-neglecting. Enter Exeter.

Fr. King.
From our brother England?

Exe.
From him; and thus he greets your majesty,
He wills you, in the name of God Almighty,
That you divest yourself, and lay apart
The borrow'd glories, that, by gift of heaven,
By law of nature, and of nations, 'long
To him, and to his heirs; namely, the crown,
And all wide-stretched honours that pertain
By custom, and the ordinance of times,
Unto the crown of France. That you may know,
'Tis no sinister, nor no aukward claim,

Pick'd from the worm-holes of long-vanish'd days,
Nor from the dust of old oblivion rak'd,
He sends you this most ^{5 note}memorable line,
In every branch truly demonstrative; [Gives the French king a paper.
Willing you, overlook this pedigree:
And, when you find him evenly deriv'd
From his most fam'd of famous ancestors,
Edward the third, he bids you then resign
Your crown and kingdom, indirectly held
From him the native and true challenger.

Fr. King.
Or else what follows?

Exe.
Bloody constraint; for if you hide the crown
Even in your hearts, there will he rake for it:
And therefore in fierce tempest is he coming,
In thunder, and in earthquake, like a Jove,
That, if requiring fail, he will compel.
He bids you, in the bowels of the Lord,
Deliver up the crown; and to take mercy
On the poor souls, for whom this hungry war
Opens his vasty jaws: and on your head
Turns he the widows' tears, the orphans' cries,
^{6 note}