O that we now had here
\nBut one ten thousand of those men in England
\nThat do no work to-day!<\/p>\n
What’s he that wishes so?
\nMy cousin, Westmoreland? No, my fair cousin;
\nIf we are mark’d to die, we are enow
\nTo do our country loss; and if to live,
\nThe fewer men, the greater share of honour.<\/p>\n
God’s will! I pray thee, wish not one man more.
\nBy\u00a0Jove, I am not covetous for gold,
\nNor care I who doth feed upon my cost;
\nIt yearns me not if men my garments wear;
\nSuch outward things dwell not in my desires.
\nBut if it be a sin to covet honour,
\nI am the most offending soul alive.<\/p>\n
No, faith, my coz, wish not a man from England.
\nGod’s peace! I would not lose so great an honour
\nAs one man more methinks would share from me
\nFor the best hope I have. O, do not wish one more!
\nRather proclaim it, Westmoreland , through my host,
\nThat he which hath no stomach to this fight,
\nLet him depart; his passport shall be made,
\nAnd crowns for convoy put into his purse;
\nWe would not die in that man’s company
\nThat fears his fellowship to die with us.<\/p>\n
This day is call’d\u00a0the feast of Crispian.
\nHe that outlives this day, and comes safe home,
\nWill stand a tip-toe when this day is nam’d,
\nAnd rouse him at the name of Crispian.
\nHe that shall live this day, and see old age,
\nWill yearly on the vigil feast his neighbours,
\nAnd say “To-morrow is Saint Crispian.”
\nThen will he strip his sleeve and show his scars,
\nAnd say “These wounds I had on Crispin’s day.”<\/p>\n
Old men forget; yet all shall be forgot,
\nBut he’ll remember, with advantages,
\nWhat feats he did that day. Then shall our names,
\nFamiliar in his mouth as household words\u2014
\nHarry the King,\u00a0Bedford\u00a0and\u00a0Exeter,
\nWarwick\u00a0and\u00a0Talbot,\u00a0Salisbury\u00a0and\u00a0Gloucester\u2014
\nBe in their flowing cups freshly rememb’red.<\/p>\n
This story shall the good man teach his son;
\nAnd Crispin Crispian shall ne’er go by,
\nFrom this day to the ending of the world,
\nBut we in it shall be remember\u00e8d\u2014
\nWe few, we happy few, we band of brothers;
\nFor he to-day that sheds his blood with me
\nShall be my brother; be he ne’er so vile,
\nThis day shall gentle his condition;
\nAnd gentlemen in England now a-bed
\nShall think themselves accurs’d they were not here,
\nAnd hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks
\nThat fought with us upon Saint Crispin’s day!<\/em><\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n