Originally Posted by Henry the Fifth

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 in his purse:
We would not die in that mans company,
That fears his fellowship to die with us,
This day call'd the feast of Crispian:
He that outlives this day, and comes safe home,
Will stand a tip-toe when this day is named,
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 neighbors,
And say 'To-morrow is Saint Crispian':
Then will he strip his sleeve and show his scars,
And say, 'These wounds I had on Saint Crispians 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,
Familliar in his mouth as household words,
Harry the King, Bedford and Exeter,
Warwick and Talbot, Salisbury and Gloucester,
Be in their flowing cups freshly remember'd.
This story shall the good man teach his son;
And Crispian 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 abed
Shall think themselves accursed they were not here,
And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks
That fought with us upon Saint Crispians day.