For thou art framed of the firm truth of valor.
Bed. He is as full of valor as of kindness;
But one ten thousand of those men in England
That do no work to-day!
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 honor.
God's will! I pray thee, wish not one man more.
By Jove, I am not covetous for gold;
Nor care I, who doth feed upon my cost;
It yearns 1 me not, if men my garments wear;
Such outward things dwell not in my desires:
But, if it be a sin to covet honor,
I am the most offending soul alive.
No, faith, my coz, wish not a man from England. God's peace! I would not lose so great an honor, As one man more, methinks, would share from me, For the best hope I have. O, do not wish one
Rather proclaim it, Westmoreland, through my host,
That he, which 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 :
He, that outlives this day, and comes safe home,
Will stand a tip-toe when this day is named,
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,
And say-To-morrow is saint Crispian.'
Then will he strip his sleeve, and show his scars,
And say,These wounds I had on Crispin's day.'
Old men forget; yet all shall be forgot,
But he 'll remember, with advantages,
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,-
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,
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 gentle his condition : 1
1 Advance him to the rank of a gentleman.
And gentlemen in England, now a-bed,
Shall think themselves accursed, they were not
And hold their manhoods cheap, while any speaks, That fought with us upon saint Crispin's day.
Sal. My sovereign lord, bestow yourself with speed:
The French are bravely in their battles set,
And will with all expedience charge on us.
K. Hen. All things are ready, if our minds be so.
West. Perish the man, whose mind is backward
K. Hen. Thou dost not wish more help from England, cousin?
West. God's will, my liege, would you and I alone,
Without more help, might fight this battle out!
K. Hen. Why, now thou hast unwish'd five
thousand men ;
Which likes me better than to wish us one.—
You know your places: God be with you all!
Tucket.1 Enter MONTJOY.
Mont. Once more I come to know of thee, king Harry,
If for thy ransom thou wilt now compound,
Before thy most assured overthrow :
For, certainly, thou art so near the gulf,
Thou needs must be englutted. Besides, in mercy,
The Constable desires thee-thou wilt mind 1
Thy followers of repentance; that their souls
May make a peaceful and a sweet retire
From off these fields, where (wretches) their poor bodies
Who hath sent thee now?
Mont. The Constable of France.
K. Hen. I pray thee, bear my former answer back:
Bid them achieve me, and then sell my bones. Good God! why should they mock poor fellows thus ?
The man, that once did sell the lion's skin
While the beast lived, was kill'd with hunting him.
A many of our bodies shall, no doubt,
Find native graves; upon the which, I trust,
Shall witness live in brass 2 of this day's work:
And those that leave their valiant bones in France,
Dying like men, though buried in your dunghills,
They shall be famed; for there the sun shall greet
them,
And draw their honors reeking up to heaven;
2 i. e. in brazen plates, which were anciently let into tombstones.
Leaving their earthly parts to choke your clime,
The smell whereof shall breed a plague in France.
Mark then abounding valor in our English;
That, being dead, like to the bullet's grazing,
Break out into a second course of mischief,
Killing in relapse of mortality.'
Let me speak proudly :-Tell the Constable
We are but warriors for the working-day :
Our gayness and our gilt are all besmirch'd?
With rainy marching in the painful field :
There's not a piece of feather in our host,
(Good argument, I hope, we shall not fly)
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. If they do this,
(As, if God please, they shall) my ransom then
Will soon be levied. Herald, save thou thy labor :
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: and so fare thee
Thou never shalt hear herald any more.
'i. e. after they have relapsed into inanimation.'-Stee
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