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About this text

  • Title: Henry V (Modern, Quarto)
  • Editor: James D. Mardock
  • ISBN: 978-1-55058-409-7

    Copyright James D. Mardock. This text may be freely used for educational, non-profit purposes; for all other uses contact the Editor.
    Author: William Shakespeare
    Editor: James D. Mardock
    Peer Reviewed

    Henry V (Modern, Quarto)

    2164.1[Scene 12]
    Enter Clarence, Gloucester, Exeter, [Warwick,] and Salisbury.
    My lords, the French are very strong.
    There is five to one, and yet they all are fresh.
    Of fighting men they have full forty thousand.
    The odds is all too great. Farewell, kind lords.
    2250Brave Clarence, and my lord of Gloucester,
    My lord of Warwick, and to all, farewell.
    [To Salisbury] Farewell, kind lord. Fight valiantly today.
    And yet in truth I do thee wrong,
    For thou art made on the true sparks of honor.
    Enter King.
    Oh, would we had 2260but ten thousand men now, at this instant, that doth not work in England.
    King Henry
    Who's that, that wishes so, my cousin Warwick? 2275God's will, I would not lose the honor one man would share from me, not for my kingdom.
    No, faith, my cousin, wish not one man more.
    Rather proclaim it presently through our camp
    That he that hath no stomach to this feast,
    2280Let him depart. His passport shall be drawn
    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 called the day of Crispin.
    He that outlives this day and sees old age
    Shall stand a tiptoe when this day is named
    And rouse him at the name of Crispin.
    2285He that outlives this day and comes safe home
    Shall yearly on the vigil feast his friends,
    2290And say, "Tomorrow is Saint Crispin's Day."
    Then shall we in their flowing bowls
    Be newly remembered: Harry the King,
    Bedford and Exeter, Clarence and Gloucester,
    Warwick and York,
    2295Familiar in their mouths as household words.
    This story shall the good man tell his son,
    And from this day unto the general doom,
    But we in it shall be rememberèd.
    We few, we happy few, we bond of brothers,
    For he today that sheds his blood by mine
    2305Shall be my brother; be he ne'er so base,
    This day shall gentle his condition.
    Then shall he strip his sleeves, and show his scars
    2291.1And say, "These wounds I had on Crispin's day."
    And gentlemen in England now abed
    Shall think themselves accursed
    And hold their manhood cheap while any speak
    2310That fought with us upon Saint Crispin's day.
    My gracious lord, the French is in the field.
    2315King Henry
    Why all things are ready if our minds be so.
    Perish the man whose mind is backward now.
    King Henry
    Thou dost not wish more help from England, cousin?
    God's will, my liege, would you and I alone
    2320Without more help might fight this battle out.
    King Henry
    Why well said. That doth please me better
    Than to wish me one. -- You know your charge,
    God be with you all.
    Enter the Herald from the French.
    Once more I come to know of thee, King Henry,
    What thou wilt give for ransom.
    2335King Henry
    Who hath sent thee now?
    The Constable of France.
    King Henry
    I prithee bear my former answer back:
    Bid them achieve me and then sell my bones.
    Good God, why should they mock good fellows thus?
    2340The man that once did sell the lion's skin
    While the beast lived, was killed with hunting him.
    A many of our bodies shall no doubt
    Find graves within your realm of France:
    Though buried in your dunghills, we shall be famed,
    For there the sun shall greet them,
    And draw up their honors reeking up to heaven,
    Leaving their earthly parts to choke your clime,
    2350The smell whereof shall breed a plague in France.
    Mark then abundant valor in our English,
    That being dead, like to the bullets crazing,
    Breaks forth into a second course of mischief,
    Killing in relapse of mortality.
    2355Let me speak proudly:
    There's not a piece of feather in our camp --
    2360Good 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
    2365The gay new clothes o'er your French soldiers' ears
    And turn them out of service. If they do this,
    As if it please God they shall,
    Then shall our ransom soon be levièd.
    Save thou thy labor, herald.
    2370Come thou no more for ransom, gentle herald.
    They shall have naught, I swear, but these my bones,
    Which if they have as I will leave 'em them,
    Will yield them little. Tell the constable.
    I shall deliver so.
    2375Exit Herald.
    [Enter York.]
    My gracious lord, upon my knee I crave
    2380The leading of the vanguard.
    King Henry
    Take it, brave York. -- Come soldiers, let's away,
    And as thou pleasest, God, dispose the day.