Ramb. My Lord Constable, the Armour that I saw in
your Tent to night, are those Starres or Sunnes vpon it?
Const. Starres my Lord
Dolph. Some of them will fall to morrow, I hope
Const. And yet my Sky shall not want
Dolph. That may be, for you beare a many superfluously,
and 'twere more honor some were away
Const. Eu'n as your Horse beares your prayses, who
would trot as well, were some of your bragges dismounted
Dolph. Would I were able to loade him with his desert. Will it neuer be day? I will trot to morrow a mile, and my way shall be paued with English Faces
Const. I will not say so, for feare I should be fac't out of my way: but I would it were morning, for I would faine be about the eares of the English
Ramb. Who will goe to Hazard with me for twentie
Prisoners?
Const. You must first goe your selfe to hazard, ere you
haue them
Dolph. 'Tis Mid-night, Ile goe arme my selfe.
Enter.
Orleance. The Dolphin longs for morning