No Fear Act 4 Scene 7
No Fear Act 4 Scene 7 Page 3

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Alarum Enter KING HENRY, WARWICK, GLOUCESTER, EXETER, and others
Sounds of battle. KING HENRY enters with WARWICK, GLOUCESTER, EXETER, and others.

KING HENRY

I was not angry since I came to France
Until this instant. Take a trumpet, herald.
50Ride thou unto the horsemen on yond hill.
If they will fight with us, bid them come down,
Or void the field. They do offend our sight.
If they’ll do neither, we will come to them
And make them skirr away as swift as stones
55Enforcèd from the old Assyrian slings.
Besides, we’ll cut the throats of those we have,
And not a man of them that we shall take
Shall taste our mercy. Go and tell them so.

KING HENRY

I was not angry since I came to France until this instant. Take a trumpet, herald. Ride out to the horsemen on that hill. If they seek battle with us, have them come down or else clear the field. The sight of them is offensive. If they’ll do neither, we’ll come to them and make them fly like stones shot from powerful slings. We’ll also cut the throats of any prisoners we have. Not a man of them that we shall take shall know our mercy. Go and tell them this.
Enter MONTJOY
MONTJOY enters.

EXETER

Here comes the herald of the French, my liege.

EXETER

Here comes the herald of the French, my liege.

GLOUCESTER

60His eyes are humbler than they used to be.

GLOUCESTER

He looks humbler than he used to.

KING HENRY

How now, what means this, herald? Know’st thou not
That I have fined these bones of mine for ransom?
Com’st thou again for ransom?

KING HENRY

Well? What is the meaning of this, herald? Don’t you know that I have offered these bones of mine for ransom? Are you coming again for ransom?

MONTJOY

No, great king.
65I come to thee for charitable license,
That we may wander o'er this bloody field
To book our dead and then to bury them;
To sort our nobles from our common men,
For many of our princes—woe the while!—
70Lie drowned and soaked in mercenary blood.
So do our vulgar drench their peasant limbs
In blood of princes, and the wounded steeds
Fret fetlock deep in gore, and with wild rage
Yerk out their armèd heels at their dead masters,
75Killing them twice. Oh, give us leave, great king,
To view the field in safety and dispose
Of their dead bodies.

MONTJOY

No, great king. I come to ask you out of charity to let us wander over this bloody field to record the numbers of our dead and bury them, separating our nobles from the common men, for many of our princes—alas!—lie drowned and soaked in the blood of mercenary soldiers. Likewise, our common men lie drenched in the blood of princes, and their wounded steeds, ankle-deep in gore, struggle and, raging wildly, stamp on their dead masters with their hooves, killing them a second time. Oh, give us permission, great king, to search the field in safety and dispose of our dead bodies.