An overweight Henry V111 sits on the balcony, overlooking the fencing court, watching the two figures below. They face each other dressed in light fencing armour, swords drawn. Howard looks brave, giving Jean a sideways glance, convinced he will win and not be harmed. Jean is relaxed.
Ready, they salute each other briefly then a herald signals they can begin and very soon, Jean’s superior fighting style has Howard stumbling, trying to keep up. Jean quickly evaluates his opponent and begins to play with him, easily disarming him. Jean retreats to let Howard retrieve his sword.
‘You need the sword, don’t you? Go ahead.’
Howard, a bead of sweat running down his reddened face looks meekly around, shamed, he picks it up. With a loud grunt he makes a wild swing toward Jean who ducks easily, steps close and grabbing the hilt of Howard’s sword, easily takes it off him and elbows Howard in the face, the sword clattering to the floor.
Jean mocks again. ‘Go on, pick it up.’
Jean’s assaults had quickly wearied Howard. He remembers the skill Jean had shown of being a noted swordsman. In view of this, before their past duel he had despatched a page with a potion which would sap Jean’s strength, as Howard knew he could not win any other way. His shame now rises as anger, causing Howard to shout. ‘You’re weak!’
Jean becomes more aggressive, he begins to strike Howard as he pleases on arm, then leg, then head with the flat of his blade.
Howard staggers back. He is suffering, bleeding from his nose and wheezing breathlessly, as he painfully begins to back away, followed by Jean, still casually hitting him with the blunt edge of his sword where and when he pleases.
The King looks on from the balcony, embarrassed.
Howard is soon on his knees, panting audibly, drenched in sweat, flushed with heat and exhaustion, hardly able to speak for thirst as he signals for mercy.
Jean calmly looks down on him, calling out in a clear voice. ‘Twenty years ago, we fought a duel.’
Howard can only drop his head, wiping his bloody nose.
‘Before the duel, you secretly had me drugged to gain advantage.’
Howard looks up at him, ashamed.
‘Didn’t you!’
Howard makes a distressed sound, hangs his head.
‘A cowardly act. You knew then I was better than you, as you know now.’ Jean’s eyes narrow. ’Say it!
Howard nods, sobbing.
‘Say it is so!’
Howard struggles with the words, his parched throat rasping. ‘Yes...yes, it is so.’
The King limps away on his bad leg, he is not amused.