:56:02
Norman... bastards!
:56:04
Where have they this mettle is not
their climate foggy, raw and dull?
:56:08
- O, for honor of our land.
- By faith and honor,
:56:11
our madams mock at us and
plainly say our mettle is bred out!
:56:18
And they will give their bodies
to the lust of English youth...
:56:23
to new-store France
with bastard warriors!
:56:29
Where is Montjoy, the herald?
:56:33
Speed him hence.
:56:35
Let him greet England
with our sharp defiance.
:56:40
Up, princes,
:56:42
and with spirit of honor edged
more sharper than your swords,
:56:46
hie to the field.
:56:49
Bar Harry England,
:56:53
that sweeps through our land...
:56:55
with pennons painted
in the blood of Harflew.
:56:58
Go down upon him.
You have power enough.
:57:04
And in a captive chariot into
Rouen bring him our prisoner.
:57:11
This becomes the great.
:57:14
Sorry am I his numbers
are so few,
:57:16
his soldiers sick and famished
in their march.
:57:19
For I am sure when he
shall see our army,
:57:21
he'll drop his heart
into the sink of fear...
:57:24
and, for achievement,
offer us his ransom.
:57:27
Therefore, lord constable,
haste on montjoy.
:57:34
Prince Dauphin,
you shall stay with us in Rouen.
:57:40
Not so, I do beseech
your majesty.
:57:42
Be patient, for you
shall remain with us!
:57:48
Now forth, lord constable
and princes all,
:57:52
and quickly bring us word
of England's fall.
:57:58
[Man shouting]