The Complete Works of William Shakespeare Part 169

The slave, a member of the country's peace, Enjoys it; but in gross brain little wots What watch the king keeps to maintain the peace Whose hours the peasant best advantages.

Enter ERPINGHAM

ERPINGHAM. My lord, your n.o.bles, jealous of your absence, Seek through your camp to find you.

KING. Good old knight, Collect them all together at my tent: I'll be before thee.

ERPINGHAM. I shall do't, my lord. Exit KING. O G.o.d of battles, steel my soldiers' hearts, Possess them not with fear! Take from them now The sense of reck'ning, if th' opposed numbers Pluck their hearts from them! Not to-day, O Lord, O, not to-day, think not upon the fault My father made in compa.s.sing the crown!

I Richard's body have interred new, And on it have bestowed more contrite tears Than from it issued forced drops of blood; Five hundred poor I have in yearly pay, Who twice a day their wither'd hands hold up Toward heaven, to pardon blood; and I have built Two chantries, where the sad and solemn priests Sing still for Richard's soul. More will I do; Though all that I can do is nothing worth, Since that my penitence comes after all, Imploring pardon.

Enter GLOUCESTER

GLOUCESTER. My liege!

KING HENRY. My brother Gloucester's voice? Ay; I know thy errand, I will go with thee; The day, my friends, and all things, stay for me. Exeunt

SCENE II.

The French camp

Enter the DAUPHIN, ORLEANS, RAMBURES, and others

ORLEANS. The sun doth gild our armour; up, my lords!

DAUPHIN. Montez a cheval! My horse! Varlet, laquais! Ha!

ORLEANS. O brave spirit!

DAUPHIN. Via! Les eaux et la terre- ORLEANS. Rien puis? L'air et le feu.

DAUPHIN. Ciel! cousin Orleans.

Enter CONSTABLE

Now, my Lord Constable!

CONSTABLE. Hark how our steeds for present service neigh!

DAUPHIN. Mount them, and make incision in their hides, That their hot blood may spin in English eyes, And dout them with superfluous courage, ha!

RAMBURES. What, will you have them weep our horses' blood?

How shall we then behold their natural tears?

Enter a MESSENGER

MESSENGER. The English are embattl'd, you French peers.

CONSTABLE. To horse, you gallant Princes! straight to horse!

Do but behold yon poor and starved band, And your fair show shall suck away their souls, Leaving them but the shales and husks of men.

There is not work enough for all our hands; Scarce blood enough in all their sickly veins To give each naked curtle-axe a stain That our French gallants shall to-day draw out, And sheathe for lack of sport. Let us but blow on them, The vapour of our valour will o'erturn them.

'Tis positive 'gainst all exceptions, lords, That our superfluous lackeys and our peasants- Who in unnecessary action swarm About our squares of battle- were enow To purge this field of, such a hilding foe; Though we upon this mountain's basis by Took stand for idle speculation- But that our honours must not. What's to say?

A very little little let us do, And all is done. Then let the trumpets sound The tucket sonance and the note to mount; For our approach shall so much dare the field That England shall couch down in fear and yield.

Enter GRANDPRE

GRANDPRE. Why do you stay so long, my lords of France?

Yond island carrions, desperate of their bones, Ill-favouredly become the morning field; Their ragged curtains poorly are let loose, And our air shakes them pa.s.sing scornfully; Big Mars seems bankrupt in their beggar'd host, And faintly through a rusty beaver peeps.

The hors.e.m.e.n sit like fixed candlesticks With torch-staves in their hand; and their poor jades Lob down their heads, dropping the hides and hips, The gum down-roping from their pale-dead eyes, And in their pale dull mouths the gimmal'd bit Lies foul with chaw'd gra.s.s, still and motionless; And their executors, the knavish crows, Fly o'er them, all impatient for their hour.

Description cannot suit itself in words To demonstrate the life of such a battle In life so lifeless as it shows itself.

CONSTABLE. They have said their prayers and they stay for death.

DAUPHIN. Shall we go send them dinners and fresh suits, And give their fasting horses provender, And after fight with them?

CONSTABLE. I stay but for my guidon. To the field!

I will the banner from a trumpet take, And use it for my haste. Come, come, away!

The sun is high, and we outwear the day. Exeunt

SCENE III.

The English camp

Enter GLOUCESTER, BEDFORD, EXETER, ERPINGHAM, with all his host; SALISBURY and WESTMORELAND

GLOUCESTER. Where is the King?

BEDFORD. The King himself is rode to view their battle.

WESTMORELAND. Of fighting men they have full three-score thousand.

EXETER. There's five to one; besides, they all are fresh.

SALISBURY. G.o.d's arm strike with us! 'tis a fearful odds.

G.o.d bye you, Princes all; I'll to my charge.

If we no more meet till we meet in heaven, Then joyfully, my n.o.ble Lord of Bedford, My dear Lord Gloucester, and my good Lord Exeter, And my kind kinsman- warriors all, adieu!

BEDFORD. Farewell, good Salisbury; and good luck go with thee!

EXETER. Farewell, kind lord. Fight valiantly to-day; And yet I do thee wrong to mind thee of it, For thou art fram'd of the firm truth of valour.

Exit SALISBURY BEDFORD. He is as full of valour as of kindness; Princely in both.

Enter the KING

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.

G.o.d'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.

G.o.d'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 pa.s.sport 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.

Re-enter SALISBURY

SALISBURY. My sovereign lord, bestow yourself with speed: The French are bravely in their battles set, And will with all expedience charge on us.

KING HENRY. All things are ready, if our minds be so.

WESTMORELAND. Perish the man whose mind is backward now!

KING HENRY. Thou dost not wish more help from England, coz?