U.k. france once more breach how to#
U.k. france once more breach full#

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. This day is call'd the feast of Crispian. 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. 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. No, faith, my coz, wish not a man from England. But if it be a sin to covet honor, I am the most offending soul alive. 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. God's will! I pray thee, wish not one man more. 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 honor. What watch the king keeps to maintain the peace, The slave, a member of the country's peace,Įnjoys it but in gross brain little wots Winding up days with toil and nights with sleep, Sweats in the eye of Phoebus and all nightĭoth rise and help Hyperion to his horse, Never sees horrid night, the child of hell, Gets him to rest, cramm'd with distressful bread No, not all these, thrice-gorgeous ceremony,Ĭan sleep so soundly as the wretched slave, That beats upon the high shore of this world, The throne he sits on, nor the tide of pomp 'Tis not the balm, the sceptre and the ball, That play'st so subtly with a king's repose Will it give place to flexure and low bending?Ĭanst thou, when thou command'st the beggar's knee,Ĭommand the health of it? No, thou proud dream, Think'st thou the fiery fever will go out What drink'st thou oft, instead of homage sweet,īut poison'd flattery? O, be sick, great greatness,

What are thy rents? what are thy comings in?Īrt thou aught else but place, degree and form, Of mortal griefs than do thy worshippers?

What kind of god art thou, that suffer'st more Must kings neglect, that private men enjoy!Īnd what have kings, that privates have not too, Of every fool, whose sense no more can feelīut his own wringing! What infinite heart's-ease Twin-born with greatness, subject to the breath Our children and our sins lay on the king! Upon the king! let us our lives, our souls, The game's afoot: Follow your spirit, and upon this charge Cry 'God for Harry, England, and Saint George!' I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips, Straining upon the start. And you, good yeoman, Whose limbs were made in England, show us here The mettle of your pasture let us swear That you are worth your breeding which I doubt not For there is none of you so mean and base, That hath not noble lustre in your eyes.

U.k. france once more breach how to#

Be copy now to men of grosser blood, And teach them how to war. Whose blood is fet from fathers of war-proof! Fathers that, like so many Alexanders, Have in these parts from morn till even fought And sheathed their swords for lack of argument: Dishonour not your mothers now attest That those whom you call'd fathers did beget you.

U.k. france once more breach full#

Now set the teeth and stretch the nostril wide, Hold hard the breath and bend up every spirit To his full height. In peace there's nothing so becomes a man As modest stillness and humility: But when the blast of war blows in our ears, Then imitate the action of the tiger Stiffen the sinews, summon up the blood, Disguise fair nature with hard-favour'd rage Then lend the eye a terrible aspect Let pry through the portage of the head Like the brass cannon let the brow o'erwhelm it As fearfully as doth a galled rock O'erhang and jutty his confounded base, Swill'd with the wild and wasteful ocean. Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more Or close the wall up with our English dead.