Shakespeare - Henry V - Act 4, Scene 3
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[GLOUCESTER, BEDFORD, EXETER, ERPINGHAM, with his troops, SALISBURY, and WESTMORELAND enter.]
GLOUCESTER: Where is the king?
BEDFORD: The king rode out alone to view their troops.
WESTMORELAND: They have fully sixty thousand fighting men.
EXETER: That’s five to one. Besides, they’re fresh.
SALISBURY: May God’s arm strike on our side! These are frightening odds. God be with all of you, princes. I’ll go and join my men. If we don’t meet again before we meet in heaven, still we’ll meet joyfully. My noble Lord of Bedford, my dear Lord Gloucester, and my good Lord Exeter, and my kind kinsmen, warriors all, adieu.
BEDFORD: Farewell, good Salisbury; and may good luck go with you.
EXETER: Farewell, kind lord. Fight valiantly today. But then I do you wrong to say as much, since you are the very embodiment of bravery.
[SALISBURY exits.]
BEDFORD: He is as full of courage as of kindness, princely in both.
[KING HENRY enters.]
WESTMORELAND: Oh, if only we had with us here ten thousand of those men back home in England who aren’t working today.
KING HENRY: Who wishes that? My cousin Westmoreland? No, my dear cousin. If we are slated to die, the fewer, the better for our country, and if we’re slated to live, the fewer men, the greater the share of honor for each of us. In God’s name, I beg you not to wish for one more man.
By God, I am not selfish when it comes to money - I don’t care who eats at my expense. It doesn’t bother me when people borrow my clothing - I don’t care about these concrete things. But if it is a sin to be selfish about honor - I am the most guilty soul alive. No, my cousin, don’t wish that even one man who is now in England were here instead. By God, I wouldn’t lose as much honor as a single man more would cost me, I think - not even if it meant giving up my best hope for victory. Oh, do not wish one more!
Instead, make this known throughout the army: whoever has no spirit for this fight, let him depart. He will be given safe conduct and money for his passage home. We would not want to die in the company of a man who fears to die with us.
This day is called the Feast of Saint Crispian. He who lives to see this day out and comes home safe will stand tall when this day is named and raise himself up at the mention of Crispian. He who survives this day and lives to see old age shall yearly entertain his neighbors on the eve, saying, “Tomorrow is Saint Crispin’s Day.” He’ll roll up his sleeve and show his scars, saying, “I got these wounds on St. Crispin’s Day.”
Old men forget. But these men will remember every detail of what they did today long after they’ve forgotten everything else. And as the wine flows, our names, familiar as household words, will be invoked again: Harry the King, Bedford and Exeter, Warwick and Talbot, Salisbury and Gloucester. Good men will tell their sons this story and the Feast of St. Crispin will never go by, from this day to the end of time, without our being remembered: ...we few, we happy few, we band of brothers...for whoever sheds his blood with me today shall be my brother. However humble his birth, this day shall grant him nobility.
And men back in English now safe in their beds will curse themselves for not having been here, and think less of their own manhood when they listen to the stories of those who fought with us here on St. Crispin’s Day.
Not only was the Battle of Agincourt fought on St. Crispin’s Day but so was Balaklava and the Charge of the Light Brigade during the Crimean War but also the Battle of Leyte Gulf during WW 2.