Now, my Lord Constable !

Con. Hark, how our steeds for present service

neigh !
Dol. Mount them, and make incision in their hides,
That their hot blood may spin in English eyes, [ '■''

And doubt them with superfluous courage : Ha !



78 KING HENRY V. act it.
Ram. What, will you have them weep our horses'
blood ?
How shall we then behold their natural tears ?

Enter a Messenger.
Mess. The English are embattEd, you French peers.
Con. To horse, you gallant Princes ! straight to
horse !
Do but behold yon poor and starved band,
And your fair shew 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 to-day 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 against 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 hUding 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 aU is done. Then let the trumpets sound
The tucket-sonnanoe, and the note to mount :
For our approach shall so much dare the field.
That England shall couch down in fear, and yield.
Enter Gkandpee.
