Henry V: Act 3, Scene 1 | Shakespeare’s Globe | Rent or Buy on Globe Player

And down goes all before them. Still be kind,
And eke out our performance with your mind. 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, Disguise fair nature with hard-favour’d rage;
Then lend the eye a terrible aspect; Let it pry through the portage of the head
Like the brass cannon. Now set the teeth and stretch the nostril
wide, Hold hard the breath and bend up every spirit
To his full height. On, on, you noblest English. Whose blood is fet from fathers of war-proof!
Fathers that, like so many Alexanders, Have in these parts from morn till even fought
And sheathed their swords for lack of argument: Dishonour not your mothers; now attest
That those whom you call’d fathers did beget you.
Be copy now to men of grosser blood, And teach them how to war. And you, good yeoman,
Whose limbs were made in England, show us here
The mettle of your pasture; let us swear That you are worth your breeding; which I
doubt not; For there is none of you so mean and base,
That hath not noble lustre in your eyes. 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!’


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