<SPEECH 1><ACT 3><SCENE 6><45%>
<MONTJOY>	<46%>
	You know me by my habit.
</MONTJOY>

<SPEECH 2><ACT 3><SCENE 6><45%>
<MONTJOY>	<46%>
	My master's mind.
</MONTJOY>

<SPEECH 3><ACT 3><SCENE 6><45%>
<MONTJOY>	<46%>
	Thus says my king: Say thou to Harry of England: Though we seemed dead, we did but sleep: advantage is a better soldier than rashness. Tell him, we could have rebuked him at Harfleur, but that we thought not good to bruise an injury till it were full ripe: now we speak upon our cue, and our voice is imperial: England shall repent his folly, see his weakness, and admire our sufferance. 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; which, in weight to re-answer, his pettiness would bow under. 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.
</MONTJOY>

<SPEECH 4><ACT 3><SCENE 6><46%>
<MONTJOY>	<47%>
	Montjoy.
</MONTJOY>

<SPEECH 5><ACT 3><SCENE 6><47%>
<MONTJOY>	<48%>
	I shall deliver so. Thanks to your highness.
</MONTJOY>

<SPEECH 6><ACT 4><SCENE 3><68%>
<MONTJOY>	<68%>
	Once more I come to know of thee, King Harry,
	If for thy ransom thou wilt now compound,
	Before thy most assured overthrow:
	For 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
	From off these fields, where, wretches, their poor bodies
	Must lie and fester.
</MONTJOY>

<SPEECH 7><ACT 4><SCENE 3><68%>
<MONTJOY>	<68%>
	The Constable of France.
</MONTJOY>

<SPEECH 8><ACT 4><SCENE 3><69%>
<MONTJOY>	<70%>
	I shall, King Harry. And so, fare thee well:
	Thou never shalt hear herald any more.
</MONTJOY>

<SPEECH 9><ACT 4><SCENE 7><76%>
<MONTJOY>	<76%>
	No, great king.
	I come to thee for charitable licence,
	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!—
	Lie drown'd and soak'd in mercenary blood;
	So do our vulgar drench their peasant limbs
	In blood of princes; and their wounded steeds
	Fret fetlock-deep in gore, and with wild rage
	Yerk out their armed heels at their dead masters,
	Killing them twice. O! give us leave, great king,
	To view the field in safety and dispose
	Of their dead bodies.
</MONTJOY>

<SPEECH 10><ACT 4><SCENE 7><76%>
<MONTJOY>	<77%>
	The day is yours.
</MONTJOY>

<SPEECH 11><ACT 4><SCENE 7><76%>
<MONTJOY>	<77%>
	They call it Agincourt.
</MONTJOY>

