Act 3. Scene VII

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.

DAUPHIN
What a long night is this! I will not change my
horse with any that treads but on four pasterns.
Ca, ha! he bounds from the earth, as if his
entrails were hairs; le cheval volant, the Pegasus,
chez les narines de feu! When I bestride him, I
soar, I am a hawk: he trots the air; the earth
sings when he touches it; the basest horn of his
hoof is more musical than the pipe of Hermes.

ORLEANS
He's of the colour of the nutmeg.

DAUPHIN
And of the heat of the ginger. It is a beast for
Perseus: he is pure air and fire; and the dull
elements of earth and water never appear in him, but
only in Patient stillness while his rider mounts
him: he is indeed a horse; and all other jades you
may call beasts.

Constable
Indeed, my lord, it is a most absolute and excellent horse.

DAUPHIN
It is the prince of palfreys; his neigh is like the
bidding of a monarch and his countenance enforces homage.

ORLEANS
No more, cousin.

DAUPHIN
Nay, the man hath no wit that cannot, from the
rising of the lark to the lodging of the lamb, vary
deserved praise on my palfrey: it is a theme as
fluent as the sea: turn the sands into eloquent
tongues, and my horse is argument for them all:
'tis a subject for a sovereign to reason on, and for
a sovereign's sovereign to ride on; and for the
world, familiar to us and unknown to lay apart
their particular functions and wonder at him. I
once writ a sonnet in his praise and began thus:
'Wonder of nature,'--

ORLEANS
I have heard a sonnet begin so to one's mistress.

DAUPHIN
Then did they imitate that which I composed to my
courser, for my horse is my mistress.

ORLEANS
Your mistress bears well.

DAUPHIN
Me well; which is the prescript praise and
perfection of a good and particular mistress.

Constable
Nay, for methought yesterday your mistress shrewdly
shook your back.

DAUPHIN
So perhaps did yours.

Constable
Mine was not bridled.

DAUPHIN
O then belike she was old and gentle; and you rode,
like a kern of Ireland, your French hose off, and