Westmoreland.
Glo. (R.C.)
Where is the king?
Bed. (L.C.)
The king himself is rode to view their battle.17 note
West. (L.)
Of fighting men they have full threescore thousand.
Exe. (L.C.)
There's five to one; besides, they all are fresh.
Erp.
It is fearful odds.
If we no more meet till we meet in heaven,
Then, joyfully,—my noble lord of Bedford,—
[Crosses to L.
My dear lord Gloster,—and my good lord Exeter,—
Warriors all, adieu!
[Crosses back to R.
-- 63 --
West.
O that we now had here
But one ten thousand of those men in England
That do no work to-day!(F)8Q0075
Enter King Henry, attended.(G)8Q0076 U.E.L.H.
K. Hen. (C.)
What's he that wishes so?
My cousin Westmoreland?—No, my fair cousin:
If we are mark'd to die, we are enough
To do our country loss; and if to live,
The fewer men, the greater share of honour.
I pray thee, wish not one man more.
Rather proclaim it, Westmoreland, through my host,
That he who hath no stomach to this fight,
Let him depart; his passport 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:(H)8Q0077
He, that outlives this day, and comes safe home,
Will stand a tip-toe when this day is nam'd,
And rouse him at the name of Crispian.
He that shall live this day, and see old age,
Will yearly on the vigil feast his friends,18 note
And say—to-morrow is Saint Crispian:
Then will he strip his sleeve and show his scars,
And say, those wounds I had on Crispin's day.
Old men forget; yet all shall be forgot,
But he'll remember with advantages19 note
What feats he did that day: Then shall our names,
Familiar in their mouths as household words,—
Harry the King, Bedford and Exeter,
Warwick and Talbot, Salisbury and Gloster,—(I)8Q0078
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,
-- 64 --
From this day to the ending20 note 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 gentle his condition:21 note
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 Saint Crispin's day.
Enter Gower, hastily, U.E.L.H.
Gow. (R.C.)
My sovereign lord, bestow yourself with speed:
The French are bravely in their battles set,22 note
And will with all expedience charge on us.
K. Hen. (C.)
All things are ready, if our minds be so.
West.
Perish the man whose mind is backward now!
K. Hen.
Thou dost not wish more help from England,
cousin?
West. (L.)
Would you and I alone, my liege,
Without more help, might fight this battle out!
Trumpet sounds without, L.H.
Enter Montjoy, and attendants, U.E.L.H.
Mont. (uncovers and kneels.)
Once more I come to know of thee, King Harry,
If for thy ransom thou wilt now compound,
Before thy most assured overthrow.
-- 65 --
K. Hen. (C.)
Who hath sent thee now?
Mont.
The Constable of France.
K. Hen.
I pray thee, bear my former answer back:
Bid them achieve me,23 note and then sell my bones.
Good Heaven! Why should they mock poor fellows thus?
The man, that once did sell the lion's skin
While the beast liv'd, was kill'd with hunting him.
Let me speak proudly:—Tell the Constable,
We are but warriors for the working-day:24 note
Our gayness and our guilt25 note are all besmirch'd
With rainy marching in the painful field,
And time hath worn us into slovenry.
But, by the mass, our hearts are in the trim;
And my poor soldiers tell me—yet ere night
They'll be in fresher robes; or they will pluck
The gay new coats o'er the French soldiers' heads,
And turn them out of service.
Come thou no more for ransom, gentle herald:
They shall have none, I swear, but these my joints,
Which if they have as I will leave 'em to them,
Shall yield them little, tell the Constable.
Mont.
I shall, King Harry. (Rises from his knee.) And so, fare thee well:
Thou never shalt hear herald any more.
[Exit with Attendants, U. E. L. H.
K. Hen.
Now, soldiers, march away:—
And how thou pleasest, Heaven, dispose the day!(K)8Q0079)
Trumpet March.
[Exeunt L.H.
Charles Kean [1859], Shakespeare's play of King Henry the Fifth, arranged for representation at the Princess's Theatre, with historical and explanatory notes, by Charles Kean, F.S.A., as first performed On Monday, March 28th, 1859 (Printed by John K. Chapman and Co. [etc.], London) [word count] [S35800].
