Dagger of the Mind - A Touch of Henry in the Night (Henry V IV.I/III)

Henry V IV.I

The royal captain of this ruin'd band
Walking from watch to watch, from tent to tent,
Let him cry 'Praise and glory on his head!'
For forth he goes and visits all his host;
Bids them good morrow with a modest smile,
And calls them brothers, friends, and countrymen.
Upon his royal face there is no note
How dread an army hath enrounded him;
Nor doth he dedicate one jot of colour
Unto the weary and all-watched night;
But freshly looks, and over-bears attaint
With cheerful semblance and sweet majesty;
That every wretch, pining and pale before,
Beholding him, plucks comfort from his looks;
A largess universal, like the sun,
His liberal eye doth give to every one,
Thawing cold fear, that mean and gentle all
Behold, as may unworthiness define,
A little touch of Henry in the night.

Henry V IV.III

This day is called the feast of Crispian:
He that shall live this day, and see old age,
Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbours,
This story shall the good man teach his son;

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; he'll

Outlive this day
And stand a tip-toe when it's named,
They'll hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks
That fought with us.
So strip your sleeve and show your scars.
And say 'These wounds I had on Crispian's day.'

Old men forget: yet all shall be forgot,
But he'll remember what feats he did that day:
Then shall our names be remembered
Familiar in his mouth as household words.

And gentlemen in England now a-bed
Shall think themselves accursed they were not here