Henry V (play)

"O! for a muse of fire, that would ascend The brightest heaven of invention! A kingdom for a stage, princes to act, And monarchs to behold the swelling scene! Then should the warlike Harry, like himself, Assume the port of Mars, and at his heels, Leashed in like hounds, should famine, sword, and fire Crouch for employment."

"Consideration, like an angel, came And whipp'd the offending Adam out of him."

"Turn him to any cause of policy, The Gordian knot of it he will unloose, Familiar as his garter; that, when he speaks, The air, a charter'd libertine, is still."

"So work the honey-bees; Creatures that, by a rule in nature, teach The act of order to a peopled kingdom."

"We are glad the Dauphin is so pleasant with us; His present and your pains we thank you for: When we have match'd our rackets to these balls, We will, in France, by God's grace, play a set Shall strike his father's crown into the hazard."

"Base is the slave that pays."

"Sure, he's not in hell; he's in Arthur's bosom, if ever man went to Arthur's bosom. 'A made a finer end, and went away, an it had been any christom child; 'a parted even just between twelve and one, even at the turning o’ the tide: for after I saw him fumble with the sheets, and play with flowers, and smile upon his fingers' ends, I knew there was but one way; for his nose was as sharp as a pen, and a’ babbled of green fields."

"As cold as any stone."

"Self-love, my liege, is not so vile a sin, As self-neglecting."

"Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more; Or close the wall up with our English dead! In peace, there ’s nothing so becomes a man, As modest stillness and humility: But when the blast of war blows in our ears, Then imitate the action of the tiger; Stiffen the sinews, summon up the blood."

"And sheath'd their swords for lack of argument."

"I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips, Straining upon the start. The game's afoot; Follow your spirit: and upon this charge, Cry — God for Harry! England and Saint George!"

"I would give all my fame for a pot of ale, and safety."

"Men of few words are the best men."

"This is the latest parle we will admit: Therefore to our best mercy give yourselves, Or, like to men proud of destruction, Defy us to our worst: for, as I am a soldier, (A name, that, in my thoughts, becomes me best,) If I begin the battery once again, I will not leave the half-achieved Harfleur, Till in her ashes she lie buried. The gates of mercy shall be all shut up, And the flesh'd soldier, rough and hard of heart, In liberty of bloody hand, shall range With conscience wide as hell; mowing like grass Your fresh-fair virgins and your flowering infants. What is it then to me, if impious War, Array'd in flames, like to the prince of fiends, Do, with his smirch'd complexion, all fell feats Enlink'd to waste and desolation? What is't to me, when you yourselves are cause, If your pure maidens fall into the hand Of hot and forcing violation? What rein can hold licentious wickedness, When down the hill he holds his fierce career? We may as bootless spend our vain command Upon the enraged soldiers in their spoil, As send precepts to the Leviathan To come ashore. Therefore, you men of Harfleur, Take pity of your town, and of your people, Whiles yet my soldiers are in my command; Whiles yet the cool and temperate wind of grace O'erblows the filthy and contagious clouds Of deadly murder, spoil, and villainy. If not, why, in a moment, look to see The blind and bloody soldier, with foul hand, Defile the locks of your shrill-shrieking daughters; Your fathers taken by the silver beards, And their most reverend heads dash'd to the walls; Your naked infants spitted upon pikes, Whiles the mad mothers with their howls confus'd Do break the clouds, as did the wives of Jewry At Herod's bloody-hunting slaughtermen. What say you? Will you yield, and this avoid? Or, guilty in defence, be thus destroy'd?"

"For when lenity and cruelty play for a kingdom, the gentler gamester is the soonest winner."

"I thought, upon one pair of English legs Did march three Frenchmen."

"You may as well say, — that’s a valiant flea that dare eat his breakfast on the lip of a lion."

"The hum of either army stilly sounds, That the fix'd sentinels almost receive The secret whispers of each other’s watch. Fire answers fire, and through their paly flames Each battle sees the other’s umber'd face: Steed threatens steed, in high and boastful neighs Piercing the night’s dull ear; and from the tents, The armourers, accomplishing the knights, With busy hammers closing rivets up, Give dreadful note of preparation."

"The King’s a bawcock, and a heart of gold, A lad of life, an imp of fame; Of parents good, of fist most valiant. I kiss his dirty shoe, and from heart-string I love the lovely bully."

"There is some soul of goodness in things evil, Would men observingly distil it out."

"Every subject’s duty is the king’s; but every subject’s soul is his own."

"That’s a perilous shot out of an elder-gun."

"The wretched slave, Who, with a body fill'd, and vacant mind, Gets him to rest, cramm'd with distressful bread."

"Such a wretch, Winding up days with toil, and nights with sleep, Had the fore-hand and vantage of a king."

"If we are mark'd to die, we are enough To do our country loss; and if to live, The fewer men, the greater share of honour. God'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."

"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 passport 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 outlives this day, and sees old age, Will yearly on the vigil feast his friends, And say, "To-morrow is Saint Crispian;" Then will he strip his sleeve, and show his scars, And say, "These wounds I had on Crispin'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 remember'd. This story shall the good man teach his son; And Crispian shall ne'er go by From this day to the ending of the world, But we in it shall be remember'd, — 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 Crispian's day."

"There is a river in Macedon; and there is also moreover a river at Monmouth;... and there is salmons in poth."

"O God! Thy arm was here, And not to us, but to Thy arm alone, Ascribe we all."

"An arrant traitor, as any's in the universal 'orld, or in France, or in England."

"There is occasions and causes why and wherefore in all things."

"By this leek, I will most horribly revenge; I eat, and eat, — I swear."

"All hell shall stir for this!"

"A fair face will wither; a full eye will wax hollow: but a good heart, Kate, is the sun and the moon; or, rather, the sun and not the moon; for it shines bright, and never changes, but keeps his course truly. If thou would have such a one, take me: and take me, take a soldier; take a soldier, take a king: and what say'st thou then to my love? Speak, my fair, and fairly, I pray thee."

"If he be not fellow with the best king, thou shalt find the best king of good fellows."

"Dear Kate, you and I cannot be confined within the weak list of a country's fashion: we are the makers of manners, Kate."