KING HENRY.
We are in God’s hands, brother, not in theirs.
March to the bridge; it now draws toward night.
Beyond the river we’ll encamp ourselves,
And on tomorrow bid them march away.
[Exeunt.]
SCENE VII. The French camp, near Agincourt.
Enter the Constable of France, the Lord Rambures, Orleans, Dauphin with others.
CONSTABLE.
Tut! I have the best armour of the world.
Would it were day!
ORLEANS.
You have an excellent armour; but let my horse have his due.
CONSTABLE.
It is the best horse of Europe.
ORLEANS.
Will it never be morning?
DAUPHIN.
My Lord of Orleans, and my Lord High Constable, you talk of horse and armour?
ORLEANS.
You are as well provided of both as any prince in the world.