It is this for which Harry's hunger has grown to swallow kingships: the madcap prince, dishonorable son of a dishonored king, flagging under his assault. Hal is not a mean swordsman, but he fights from fear, not from passion, and Harry is certain: he will be proved within the hour.

Ceaseless, relentless, merciless, effective -- all these qualities formerly put to King Henry's use will, even now, cost him that son whom he once wished switched.

There's no word for that here. Harry only feels the power of his arm, the force of his momentum, the building triumph as Hal makes more and more mistakes.