"Whoever does not have the stomach for this fight, let him depart. Give him money to speed his departure, since we wish not to die in that man's company. Whoever lives past today and comes home safely, will rouse himself every year on this day, show his neighbor his scars, and tell embellished stories of all their great feats of battle. These stories he will teach his son, and from this day until the end of the world, we shall be remembered. We few, we happy few, we band of brothers; for whoever has shed his blood with me shall be my brother. And those men afraid to go will think themselves lesser men, as they hear of how we fought and died together."Now that is some motivating stuff.
Thursday, August 11, 2005
If Shakespeare Can...
...kick ass, so can you. This supposedly comes from Shakespeare's Henry V, Act IV, Scene III. I suspect he stole it from some Marine Corps General, but I'm not sure.
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3 comments:
Strong words never die out.
I'm crossing my fingers that you did not write that yourself TBone. Because I think it might be wrong...
I just happen to have a copy of Shakespeare here (no really, I do. I enjoy his plays). I looked up what you stated on here, and only managed to find the part of "The few...band of brothers". Now, the last few lines you wrote I guess could be related to maybe a modern version of Shakespeare, with more wording from the modern age (since frankly, this excerpt sounds nothing like the way Shakespeare wrote). But the first part of this, I could find nowhere. So if someone could shed insight to where it is, I would probably be just as curious as TBone to know.
But regardless, whomever you believe wrote it, thanks for finding it. Lovely passage!
This quote is a modern english loose translation of Henry V in Shakespeare, Henry V, Act 4, Scene 3-as follows:
What's he that wishes so?
My cousin Westmoreland? No, my fair cousin:
If we are mark'd to die, we are enow
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.
No, faith, my coz, wish not a man from England:
God's peace! I would not lose so great an honour
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 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 called the feast of Crispian:
He that outlives this day, and comes safe home,
Will stand a tip-toe when the day is named,
And rouse him at the name of Crispian.
He that shall live this day, and see old age,
Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbours,
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 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; 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.
I use the one that T Bone posted myself, while it isn't "literal" it makes the point quite clearly.
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