The French Camp.
 Enter the DAUPHIN, ORLEANS, RAMBURES, and OTHERS.

Orleans	The sun doth gild our armour - Up, my lords!

Dauphin	Montez  cheval! My horse! Varlet, laquais! Ha!

Orleans	O brave spirit!

Dauphin	Via! Les eaux et la terre!

Orleans	Rien puis? L'air et le feu!

Dauphin	Ciel, cousin Orleans.

                           Enter the CONSTABLE.

	Now, my Lord Constable?

Constable	Hark how our steeds for present service neigh!

Dauphin	Mount them, and make incision in their hides,
	That their hot blood may spin in English eyes
	And dout them with superfluous courage, ha!

Rambures	What, will you have them weep our horses' blood?
	How shall we then behold their natural tears?

                            Enter a MESSENGER.

Messenger	The English are embattled, you French peers.

Constable	To horse, you gallant princes, straight to horse!
	Do but behold yon poor and starvd band,
	And your fair show shall suck away their souls,
	Leaving them but the shales and husks of men.
	There is not work enough for all our hands,
	Scarce blood enough in all their sickly veins
	To give each naked curtle-axe a stain
	That our French gallants shall today draw out,
	And sheathe for lack of sport. Let us but blow on them,
	The vapour of our valour will o'erturn them.
	'Tis positive 'gainst all exceptions, lords,
	That our superfluous lackeys, and our peasants,
	Who in unnecessary action swarm
	About our squares of battle, were enow
	To purge this field of such a hilding foe,
	Though we upon this mountain's basis by
	Took stand for idle speculation;
	But that our honours must not. What's to say?
	A very little little let us do,
	And all is done. Then let the trumpets sound
	The tucket sonance and the note to mount;
	For our approach shall so much dare the field
	That England shall couch down in fear, and yield.

                             Enter GRANDPR.

Grandpr	Why do you stay so long, my lords of France?
	Yon island carrions, desperate of their bones,
	Ill-favouredly become the morning field.
	Their ragged curtains poorly are let loose,
	And our air shakes them passing scornfully.
	Big Mars seems bankrupt in their beggared host,
	And faintly through a rusty beaver peeps.
	The horsemen sit like fixd candlesticks,
	With torch-staves in their hand; and their poor jades
	Lob down their heads, dropping the hides and hips,
	The gum down-roping from the pale-dead eyes,
	And in their pale dull mouths the gimmalled bit
	Lies foul with chawed grass, still and motionless.
	And their executors, the knavish crows,
	Fly o'er them all, impatient for their hour.
	Description cannot suit itself in words
	To demonstrate the life of such a battle
	In life so lifeless as it shows itself.

Constable	They have said their prayers, and they stay for death.

Dauphin	Shall we go send them dinners and fresh suits,
	And give their fasting horses provender,
	And after fight with them?

Constable	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.

													[Exeunt.
