Phil.‍How now, noble Prince,

You are not cheerful?

Bourb.‍Why should I be so?

Phil. Upon the eve of conquest, such as ours,

Most men would be so.

Bourb.‍If I were secure!

Phil. Doubt not our soldiers. Were the walls of adamant,

They'd crack them. Hunger is a sharp artillery.180

Bourb. That they will falter is my least of fears.

That they will be repulsed, with Bourbon for