'Tis certain he hath passed the river Somme.

And if he be not fought withal, my lord,

3.5.31382Let us not live in France. Let us quit all

3.5.41383And give our vineyards to a barbarous people.

O Dieu vivant! Shall a few sprays of us,

3.5.61385The emptying of our fathers' luxury,

3.5.71386Our scions, put in wild and savage stock,

3.5.81387Spurt up so suddenly into the clouds

3.5.91388And overlook their grafters?

Normans, but bastard Normans! Norman bastards!

3.5.111390Mort de ma vie, if they march along

3.5.121391Unfought withal, but I will sell my dukedom

3.5.131392To buy a slobb'ry and a dirty farm

3.5.141393In that nook-shotten isle of Albion.

Dieu des batailles, where have they this mettle?

3.5.161395Is not their climate foggy, raw, and dull,

3.5.171396On whom, as in despite, the sun looks pale,

3.5.181397Killing their fruit with frowns? Can sodden water,

3.5.191398A drench for sur-reined jades, their barley broth,

3.5.201399Decoct their cold blood to such valiant heat?

3.5.211400And shall our quick blood, spirited with wine,

3.5.221401Seem frosty? Oh, for honor of our land,

3.5.231402Let us not hang like roping icicles

3.5.241403Upon our houses' thatch whiles a more frosty people

3.5.251404Sweat drops of gallant youth in our rich fields!

3.5.261405Poor we may call them in their native lords.

By faith and honor,

3.5.281407Our madams mock at us, and plainly say

3.5.291408Our mettle is bred out, and they will give

3.5.301409Their bodies to the lust of English youth

3.5.311410To new-store France with bastard warriors.

They bid us to the English dancing schools

3.5.331412And teach lavoltas high and swift corantos,

3.5.341413Saying our grace is only in our heels

3.5.351414And that we are most lofty runaways.

Where is Montjoy the herald? Speed him hence.

3.5.371416Let him greet England with our sharp defiance.

3.5.381417Up, princes, and with spirit of honor edged

3.5.391418More sharper than your swords, hie to the field.

3.5.401419Charles d'Alberet, High Constable of France,

3.5.411420You Dukes of Orléans, Bourbon, and of Berry,

3.5.421421Alençon, Brabant, Bar, and Burgundy,

3.5.431422Jaques Châtillon, Rambures, Vaudémont,

3.5.441423Beaumont, Grandpré, Roucy, and Fauquembergues,

3.5.451424Foix, Lestrelles, Boucicaut, and Charolais,

3.5.461425High dukes, great princes, barons, lords, and kings,

3.5.471426For your great seats, now quit you of great shames.

3.5.481427Bar Harry England, that sweeps through our land

3.5.491428With pennons painted in the blood of Harfleur.

3.5.501429Rush on his host as doth the melted snow

3.5.511430Upon the valleys, whose low vassal seat

3.5.521431The Alps doth spit and void his rheum upon.

3.5.531432Go down upon him -- you have power enough --

3.5.541433And in a captive chariot into Rouen

3.5.551434Bring him our prisoner.

Bring him our prisoner. This becomes the great.

3.5.561436Sorry am I his numbers are so few,

3.5.571437His soldiers sick and famished in their march;

3.5.581438For I am sure when he shall see our army

3.5.591439He'll drop his heart into the sink of fear

3.5.601440And, 'fore achievement, offer us his ransom.

Therefore, lord constable, haste on Montjoy

3.5.621442And let him say to England that we send

3.5.631443To know what willing ransom he will give.

3.5.641444Prince Dauphin, you shall stay with us in Rouen.

Not so, I do beseech your majesty.

Be patient, for you shall remain with us.

3.5.671447Now forth, lord constable, and princes all,

3.5.681448And quickly bring us word of England's fall.