Now all the young men of England are inspired and have stored their party clothes in the closet. Armorers are doing great business, and all men think about is honor. People are selling off their land to buy warhorses so they can follow the exemplary king into battle as if they had winged feet, like Mercury
. There's a sense of anticipation in the air. In the minds of Harry and his followers, visions of the kingdoms, spoils, and titles to be won eclipse thoughts of actual fighting. The French, meanwhile, have been forewarned of all this preparation by their spies and tremble in fear. They seek to derail the English with cowardly tricks. Oh, England! You are physically small but inwardly great, like a mighty heart enclosed in a small body. There is nothing you couldn't accomplish if all your subjects were loyal and loving! But, see, the king of France has detected your weak spot: a nest of faithless traitors, whose treachery he has purchased with gold. Three corrupt men—Richard, earl of Cambridge; Henry, Lord Scroop of Masham; and Sir Thomas Grey, knight, of Northumberland—have agreed to conspire with the French in exchange for money. The gracious king will die by their hands in Southampton before he sets sail for France—if Hell and treason have their way. Stick with us, ladies and gentlemen, and we'll make a play, conquering space and time. Imagine that the traitors have been paid and made their choice. The king has left London, and the scene now
