Westmoreland: Oh that we now had here but one ten thousand of those men in England that do no work today.
Henry: What’s he that wishes so? My cousin Westmoreland? No, my fair cousin. If we are marked to die we are enough to do our country loss. And if to live the fewer men the greater share of Honor 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 honor I am the most offending soul alive no faith, my coz, wish not a man from England. God's peace I would not lose so great and an honor 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 passports 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 called the feast of Crispian. He that outlives this day and comes safehome, will stand a tiptoe when this day is named and rouse him at the name of Crispian. He that shall see this day, and live old age, will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbours and say ‘Tomorrow 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 Salisbury and Exeter, Erpingham, Westmoreland, and York- be in their flowing cups freshly remember’d. 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 today 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 accursed they were not here, and hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks that fought with us upon Saint Crispin’s day.
Salisbury: My sovereign Lord, bestow yourself with speed: the French are bravely in their battles set, well with all expedience charge on us.
Henry: All things are ready, if our minds be so.
Westmoreland: Perish the man whose mind is backward now!
Henry: That does not wish more help from England, cos?
Westmoreland: God’s will! my liege, would you and I alone, without more help, could fight this royal battle!
Henry: Why, now thou hast unwished five thousand men; which likes me better than to wish us one. You know your places: God be with you all!