No Fear Act 4 Scene 3
No Fear Act 4 Scene 3 Page 4

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KING HENRY

Why, now thou hast unwished five thousand men,
Which likes me better than to wish us one.
80—You know your places. God be with you all.
Tucket

KING HENRY

There! Now you’ve unwished five thousand men, which I prefer to your wishing for one more.—You know your places. God be with you all.
Enter MONTJOY
A trumpet sounds.MONTJOY enters.

MONTJOY

Once more I come to know of thee, King Harry,
If for thy ransom thou wilt now compound,
Before thy most assurèd overthrow.
85For certainly thou art so near the gulf
Thou needs must be englutted. Besides, in mercy,
The constable desires thee thou wilt mind
Thy followers of repentance, that their souls
May make a peaceful and a sweet retire
90From off these fields where, wretches, their poor bodies
Must lie and fester.

MONTJOY

Once more I come to ask you, King Harry, if you’re ready to negotiate your ransom before your certain defeat. For assuredly, you are so near the abyss that you’re bound to be swallowed up. Moreover, out of mercy, the Constable urges you to remind your men to make their peace with God and repent, so that their souls may depart sweetly and peacefully from these fields where, poor wretches, their bodies will likely fall and fester.

KING HENRY

Who hath sent thee now?

KING HENRY

Who sent you this time?

MONTJOY

The constable of France.

MONTJOY

The Constable of France.

KING HENRY

I pray thee, bear my former answer back.
95Bid them achieve me and then sell my bones.
Good God, why should they mock poor fellows thus?
The man that once did sell the lion’s skin
While the beast lived was killed with hunting him.
A many of our bodies shall no doubt
100Find native graves, upon the which, I trust,
Shall witness live in brass of this day’s work.
And those that leave their valiant bones in France,
Dying like men though buried in your dunghills,
They shall be famed; for there the sun shall greet them
105And draw their honors reeking up to heaven,
Leaving their earthly parts to choke your clime,

KING HENRY

Be good enough to take back the same answer I gave before. Tell them to capture me, then sell my bones. Good God! Why do they mock poor fellows this way? The man that once sold the skin of a lion while the beast still lived died hunting him. A good many of our bodies, I imagine, will end up in English soil. And on their graves, I trust, the story of this day’s work will be written in brass. And those who leave their valiant bones in France, dying like men though buried in your dunghills—they’ll be remembered, too. The sun will rise on them here and draw their glory up to heaven, leaving their mortal remains to choke your land: the smell of rotting flesh will breed a plague in France.