Glou.
Where is the King?

Bed.
The King himself is rode to view their battle.

West.
Of fighting men they have full threescore thousand.

Exe.
There's five to one; besides, they all are fresh.

Sal.
God's arm strike with us, 'tis a fearful odds!
God be wi' you, Princes all; I'll to my charge.
If we no more meet till we meet in heav'n,
Then joyfully, my noble Lord of Bedford,
My dear Lord Glo'ster, and my good Lord Exeter,
And my kind kinsman, warriors all, adieu!

Bed.
Farewell, good Salisbury, and good luck go with thee!^{5 note}

Exe. to Sal.
Farewel, kind Lord; fight valiantly to-day;
And yet I do thee wrong to mind thee of it,
For thou art fram'd of the firm truth of valour. [Exit Sal.

Bed.
He is as full of valour, as of kindness;
Princely in both. Enter King Henry.

West.
O, that we now had here
But one ten thousand of those men in England,
That do no work to-day!

K. Henry.
What's he, that wishes so?
My cousin Westmorland? No, my fair cousin,
If we are mark'd to die, we are enow
To do our country loss; and if to live,
The fewer men, the greater share of honour.
God's will! I pray thee, wish not one man more.
* ^noteBy Jove, I am not covetous of gold,
Nor care I, who doth feed upon my cost,
It yerns me not, if men my garments wear,
Such outward things dwell not in my desires;
But if it be a sin to covet honour,
I am the most offending soul alive.
No, faith, my Lord, wish not a man from England:
God's peace! I would not lose so great an honour,
As one man more, methinks, would share from me,
For the best hopes I have. Don't wish one more;
Rather proclaim it (Westmorland) through my host,
That he, which hath no stomach to this fight,
Let him depart; his pass-port shall be made,
And crowns for convoy put into his purse:
We would not die in that man's company,
That fears his fellowship to die with us.
This day is call'd the feast of Crispian:
He that out-lives this day, and comes safe home,
Will stand a tip-toe when this day is nam'd,
And rouze him at the name of Crispian;
He that shall live this day, and see old age,
Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbours,
And say, to-morrow is Saint Crispian;
Then will he strip his sleeve, and shew his scars.
Old men forget; yet shall not all forget,
But they'll remember, † ^notewith advantages,
What feats they did that day. Then shall our names,

Familiar in their mouth as houshold words,
Harry the King, Bedford, and Exeter,
Warwick and Talbot, Salisbury and Glo'ster,
Be in their flowing cups freshly remember'd.
This story shall the good man teach his son,
And Crispin Crispian shall ne'er go by,
^{6 note}From this day to the ending of the world,
But we in it shall be remembered,
We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;
For he, to-day that sheds his blood with me,
Shall be my brother; be he ne'er so vile,
This day shall * ^notegentle his condition.
And gentlemen in England, now a-bed,
Shall think themselves accurs'd, they were not here;
And hold their manhoods cheap, while any speaks,
That fought with us upon St. Crispian's day.† ^note Enter Salisbury.

Sal.
My sov'reign Lord, bestow yourself with speed:
The French are ^{7 note}bravely in their battles set,
And will with all expedience charge on us.

K. Henry.
All things are ready, if our minds be so.

West.
Perish the man, whose mind is backward now!

K. Henry.
Thou dost not wish more help from England, cousin?

West.
God's will, my Liege. 'Would you and I alone
Without more help could fight this royal battle!

K. Henry.
Why, now thou hast unwish'd five thousand men,^{8 note}
Which likes me better than to wish us one.
—You know your places. God be with you all!

Previous section

Next section