2237Enter Gloucester, Bedford, Exeter, Erpingham 2238with all his host, Salisbury, and 2239Westmorland.
The king himself is rode to view their 2242battle.
Of fighting men they have full threescore 2244thousand.
There's five to one, besides they all are fresh.
4.3.62247God b'wi'you, princes all. I'll to my charge.
4.3.102251And my kind kinsman, warriors all, adieu.
Farewell, good Salisbury, and good luck go with thee.
4.3.142254For thou art framed of the firm truth of valor.
4.3.182261That do no work today.
That do no work today. What's he that wishes so?
4.3.222266The fewer men, the greater share of honor.
4.3.232267God's will, I pray thee wish not one man more.
4.3.252269Nor care I who doth feed upon my cost.
4.3.272271Such outward things dwell not in my desires.
4.3.292273I am the most offending soul alive.
4.3.302274No, faith, my coz, wish not a man from England.
4.3.332277For the best hope I have. Oh, do not wish one more.
4.3.372281And crowns for convoy put into his purse.
4.3.392283That fears his fellowship to die with us.
4.3.402284This day is called the feast of Crispian.
4.3.432287And rouse him at the name of Crispian.
4.3.462290And say, "Tomorrow is Saint Crispian."
4.3.472291Then will he strip his sleeve and show his scars.
4.3.542298Be in their flowing cups freshly remembered.
4.3.592303We few, we happy few, we band of brothers.
4.3.622306This day shall gentle his condition.
4.3.662310That fought with us upon Saint Crispin's day.
My sovereign lord, bestow yourself with speed.
4.3.692314And will with all expedience charge on us.
All things are ready if our minds be so.
Thou dost not wish more help from England, 2318coz?
4.3.742320Without more help could fight this royal battle!
4.3.772323You know your places. God be with you all.
Must lie and fester. Who hath sent thee now?
4.3.902338Bid them achieve me and then sell my bones.
4.3.912339Good God, why should they mock poor fellows thus?
4.3.932341While the beast lived, was killed with hunting him.
4.3.962344Shall witness live in brass of this day's work.
4.3.1022350The smell whereof shall breed a plague in France.
4.3.1062354Killing in relapse of mortality.
4.3.1082356We are but warriors for the working day.
4.3.1102358With rainy marching in the painful field.
4.3.1132361And time hath worn us into slovenry.
4.3.1202368Will soon be levied. 2369Herald, save thou thy labor.
4.3.1212370Come thou no more for ransom, gentle herald.
4.3.1242373Shall yield them little. Tell the constable.
I shall, King Harry. And so fare thee well.
4.3.1262375Thou never shalt hear herald any more.
I fear thou wilt once more come for a 2377ransom.
4.3.1292380The leading of the vanguard.
4.3.1312383And how thou pleasest, God, dispose the day.