“Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more; Or close the wall up with our English dead!… 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!'” —
Permit me to finish the essay. In the same play, Harry’s same victorious army is now in ruins, cornered, vastly outnumbered, sick. Facing a fresh army which is on the high ground, Harry gives his men heart, and hands out one of the biggest hidings that an apparently unbeatable host ever took.
And Crispin 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;
Steadfastness again in other words, stand the ground, keep the faith.
Permit me to finish the essay. In the same play, Harry’s same victorious army is now in ruins, cornered, vastly outnumbered, sick. Facing a fresh army which is on the high ground, Harry gives his men heart, and hands out one of the biggest hidings that an apparently unbeatable host ever took.
And Crispin 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;
Steadfastness again in other words, stand the ground, keep the faith.