HERALD.
The king of France, my sovereign Lord and master,
Greets by me his foe, the Prince of Wales:
If thou call forth a hundred men of name,
Of Lords, Knights, Squires, and English gentlemen,
And with thy self and those kneel at his feet,
He straight will fold his bloody colours up,
And ransom shall redeem lives forfeited;
If not, this day shall drink more English blood,
Than ere was buried in our British earth.
What is the answer to his proffered mercy?
PRINCE EDWARD.
This heaven, that covers France, contains the mercy
That draws from me submissive orizons;
That such base breath should vanish from my lips,
To urge the plea of mercy to a man,
The Lord forbid! Return, and tell the king,
My tongue is made of steel, and it shall beg
My mercy on his coward burgonet;
Tell him, my colours are as red as his,
My men as bold, our English arms as strong:
Return him my defiance in his face.
HERALD.
I go.
[Exit.]
[Enter another Herald.]
PRINCE EDWARD.
What news with thee?
HERALD.
The Duke of Normandy, my Lord & master,
Pitying thy youth is so ingirt with peril,
By me hath sent a nimble jointed jennet,
As swift as ever yet thou didst bestride,
And therewithall he counsels thee to fly;
Else death himself hath sworn that thou shalt die.
PRINCE EDWARD.
Back with the beast unto the beast that sent him!
Tell him I cannot sit a coward’s horse;
Bid him to day bestride the jade himself,
For I will stain my horse quite o’er with blood,
And double gild my spurs, but I will catch him;
So tell the carping boy, and get thee gone.
[Exit Herald.]
[Enter another Herald.]