[_Trumpet sounds without, R._

_Enter MONTJOY and Attendants, R.H._

_Mont._ (_uncovers and kneels._) You know me by my habit.[17]

_K. Hen._ Well, then, I know thee: What shall I know of thee?

_Mont._ My master's mind.

_K. Hen._ Unfold it.

_Mont._ Thus says my king:--Say thou to Harry of England: Though we
seemed dead, we did but sleep. Tell him, he shall repent his folly, see
his weakness, and admire our sufferance.[18] Bid him, therefore,
consider of his ransom; which must proportion the losses we have borne,
the subjects we have lost, the disgrace we have digested. For our
losses, his exchequer is too poor; for the effusion of our blood, the
muster of his kingdom too faint a number; and for our disgrace, his own
person, kneeling at our feet, but a weak and worthless satisfaction. To
this add--defiance: and tell him, for conclusion, he hath betrayed his
followers, whose condemnation is pronounced. So far my king and master;
so much my office.

_K. Hen._What is thy name? I know thy quality.

_Mont._ Montjoy.

_K. Hen._ Thou dost thy office fairly. Turn thee back,
And tell thy king,--I do not seek him now;
But could be willing to march on to Calais
Without impeachment:[19] for, to say the sooth
(Though 'tis no wisdom to confess so much
Unto an enemy of craft and vantage),
My people are with sickness much enfeebled;
My numbers lessen'd; and those few I have,
Almost no better than so many French;
Who, when they were in health, I tell thee, herald,
I thought, upon one pair of English legs,
Did march three Frenchmen.--Forgive me, Heaven,
That I do brag thus!--this your air of France
Hath blown that vice in me; I must repent.
Go, therefore, tell thy master here I am;
My ransom is this frail and worthless trunk;
My army but a weak and sickly guard:
Yet, Heaven before,[20] tell him we will come on,
Though France himself,[21] and such another neighbour,
Stand in our way. There's for thy labour, Montjoy.
Go, bid thy master well advise himself:
If we may pass, we will; if we be hinder'd,
We shall your tawny ground with your red blood
Discolour:(C) and so, Montjoy, fare you well.
The sum of all our answer is but this:
We would not seek a battle, as we are;
Nor, as we are, we say, we will not shun it:
So tell your master.

_Mont._ I shall deliver so.

(_MONTJOY rises from his knee._)

Thanks to your highness.

[_Exit