2240Glouc. Where is the King?

2241Bedf. The King himselfe is rode to view their Bat-

2242taile.

2243West. Of fighting men they haue full threescore thou-

2244sand.

2245Exe. There's fiue to one, besides they all are fresh.

2246Salisb. Gods Arme strike with vs, 'tis a fearefull oddes.

2247God buy' you Princes all; Ile to my Charge:

2248If we no more meet, till we meet in Heauen;

2249Then ioyfully, my Noble Lord of Bedford,

2250My deare Lord Gloucester, and my good Lord Exeter,

2251And my kind Kinsman, Warriors all, adieu.

2252Bedf. Farwell good Salisbury, & good luck go with thee:

2253And yet I doe thee wrong, to mind thee of it,

2254For thou art fram'd of the firme truth of valour.

2255Exe. Farwell kind Lord: fight valiantly to day.

2256Bedf. He is as full of Valour as of Kindnesse,

2257Princely in both.

2259West. O that we now had here

2260But one ten thousand of those men in England,

2261That doe no worke to day.

2262King. What's he that wishes so?

2263My Cousin Westmerland. No, my faire Cousin:

2264If we are markt to dye, we are enow

2265To doe our Countrey losse: and if to liue,

2266The fewer men, the greater share of honour.

2267Gods will, I pray thee wish not one man more.

2268By Ioue, I am not couetous for Gold,

2269Nor care I who doth feed vpon my cost:

2270It yernes me not, if men my Garments weare;

2271Such outward things dwell not in my desires.

2272But if it be a sinne to couet Honor,

2273I am the most offending Soule aliue.

2274No 'faith, my Couze, wish not a man from England:

2275Gods peace, I would not loose so great an Honor,

2276As one man more me thinkes would share from me,

2277For the best hope I haue. O, doe not wish one more:

2278Rather proclaime it (Westmerland) through my Hoast,

2279That he which hath no stomack to this fight,

2280Let him depart, his Pasport shall be made,

2281And Crownes for Conuoy put into his Purse:

2282We would not dye in that mans companie,

2283That feares his fellowship, to dye with vs.

2284This day is call'd the Feast of Crispian:

2285He that out-liues this day, and comes safe home,

2286Will stand a tip-toe when this day is named,

2287And rowse him at the Name of Crispian.

2288He that shall see this day, and liue old age,

2289Will yeerely on the Vigil feast his neighbours,

2290And say, to morrow is Saint Crispian.

2291Then will he strip his sleeue, and shew his skarres:

2292Old men forget; yet all shall be forgot:

2293But hee'le remember, with aduantages,

2294What feats he did that day. Then shall our Names,

2295Familiar in his mouth as household words,

2296Harry the King, Bedford and Exeter,

2297Warwick and Talbot, Salisbury and Gloucester,

2298Be in their flowing Cups freshly remembred.

2299This story shall the good man teach his sonne:

2300And Crispine Crispian shall ne're goe by,

2301From this day to the ending of the World,

2302But we in it shall be remembred;

2303We few, we happy few, we band of brothers:

2304For he to day that sheds his blood with me,

2305Shall be my brother: be he ne're so vile,

2306This day shall gentle his Condition.

2307And Gentlemen in England, now a bed,

2308Shall thinke themselues accurst they were not here;

2309And hold their Manhoods cheape, whiles any speakes,

2310That fought with vs vpon Saint Crispines day.

2312Sal. My Soueraign Lord, bestow your selfe with speed:

2313The French are brauely in their battailes set,

2314And will with all expedience charge on vs.

2315King. All things are ready, if our minds be so.

2316West. Perish the man, whose mind is backward now.

2317King. Thou do'st not wish more helpe from England,

2318Couze?

2319West. Gods will, my Liege, would you and I alone,

2320Without more helpe, could fight this Royall battaile.

2321King. Why now thou hast vnwisht fiue thousand men:

2322Which likes me better, then to wish vs one.

2323You know your places: God be with you all.

2325Mont. Once more I come to know of thee King Harry,

2326If for thy Ransome thou wilt now compound,

2327Before thy most assured Ouerthrow:

2328For certainly, thou art so neere the Gulfe,

2329Thou needs must be englutted. Besides, in mercy

2330The Constable desires thee, thou wilt mind

2331Thy followers of Repentance; that their Soules

2332May make a peacefull and a sweet retyre

2333From off these fields: where (wretches) their poore bodies

2334Must lye and fester.

2335King. Who hath sent thee now?

2336Mont. The Constable of France.

2337King. I pray thee beare my former Answer back:

2338Bid them atchieue me, and then sell my bones.

2339Good God, why should they mock poore fellowes thus?

2340The man that once did sell the Lyons skin

2341While the beast liu'd, was kill'd with hunting him.

2342A many of our bodyes shall no doubt

2343Find Natiue Graues: vpon the which, I trust

2344Shall witnesse liue in Brasse of this dayes worke.

2345And those that leaue their valiant bones in France,

2346Dying like men, though buryed in your Dunghills,

2347They shall be fam'd: for there the Sun shall greet them,

2348And draw their honors reeking vp to Heauen,

2349Leauing their earthly parts to choake your Clyme,

2350The smell whereof shall breed a Plague in France.

2351Marke then abounding valour in our English:

2352That being dead, like to the bullets crasing,

2353Breake out into a second course of mischiefe,

2354Killing in relapse of Mortalitie.

2355Let me speake prowdly: Tell the Constable,

2356We are but Warriors for the working day:

2357Our Gaynesse and our Gilt are all besmyrcht

2358With raynie Marching in the painefull field.

2359There's not a piece of feather in our Hoast:

2360Good argument (I hope) we will not flye:

2361And time hath worne vs into slouenrie.

2362But by the Masse, our hearts are in the trim:

2363And my poore Souldiers tell me, yet ere Night,

2364They'le be in fresher Robes, or they will pluck

2365The gay new Coats o're the French Souldiers heads,

2366And turne them out of seruice. If they doe this,

2367As if God please, they shall; my Ransome then

2368Will soone be leuyed.

2369Herauld, saue thou thy labour:

2370Come thou no more for Ransome, gentle Herauld,

2371They shall haue none, I sweare, but these my ioynts:

2372Which if they haue, as I will leaue vm them,

2373Shall yeeld them little, tell the Constable.

2374Mont. I shall, King Harry. And so fare thee well:

2375Thou neuer shalt heare Herauld any more. Exit.

2376King. I feare thou wilt once more come againe for a

2377Ransome.

2379Yorke. My Lord, most humbly on my knee I begge

2380The leading of the Vaward.

2381King. Take it, braue Yorke.

2382Now Souldiers march away,

2383And how thou pleasest God, dispose the day. Exeunt.