That their hot blood may spin in English eyes,
And dout them[13] with superfluous courage, Ha!
Con. What, will you have them weep our horses’ blood?
How shall we, then, behold their natural tears?
Enter Montjoy, R.H.
Mont. The English are embattled, you French peers.
Exit R.H.
Con. To horse, you gallant princes! straight to horse!
Do but behold yon poor and starved band.
There is not work enough for all our hands;