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

KING. What-s he that wishes so?
My cousin Westmoreland? 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.
By Jove, I am not covetous for gold,
Nor care I who doth feed upon my cost;
It yearns 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 coz, 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 hope I have. O, do not wish one more!
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 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 neighbours,
And say -To-morrow is Saint Crispian.�
Then will he strip his sleeve and show his scars,
And say -These wounds I had on Crispian-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 his mouth as household words-
Harry the King, Bedford and Exeter,
Warwick and Talbot, Salisbury and Gloucester-
Be in their flowing cups freshly rememb-red.
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;
And gentlemen in England now-a-bed
Shall think themselves accurs-d they were not here,
And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks
That fought with us upon Saint Crispin-s day.