#st. crispin's day

[jandjsalmon]

This version of the speech was a revelation.

I sobbed like a baby. I thought I'd seen this speech done to perfection until I saw this performance and knew I'd been wrong. This will be forever my favourite.

Happy St. Crispian's Day!

[boltlightning]

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. — henry v, act 4 scene 3

[another-chaotic-bisexual-vampire]

we few we happy few we band of boopers

[agentreynard]

They have called this day the eleventh of March! And whomsoever of you gets through this day, unless you are shot in the head or somehow slain, you will stand at tiptoe whene'er you hear the name again, and you will get excited at the name: March the eleventh! We happy few, we few, we band of brothers; our names will be as like household names. And those who are not here, be they sleeping or doing something else, they will feel themselves sort of crappy, because they are not here to join the fight on this day, the eleventh of March!

[chiropteracupola]

There dukes and earls, lord and baron / Were taken slain and that well soon / And some were led into London / With joy and mirth and great renown

[oldshrewsburyian]

It’s the eve of St. Crispin’s Day! Time for my annual festival of crying into a glass of wine about Henry V. 

Backstory: I read the play and watched the Olivier film at around age 12. And so, of course, when Olivier said “And Crispin Crispian shall ne’er go by / From this day till the ending of the world / But we in it shall be remembered,” I tearfully asked myself if anyone was taking care of that.

[freetheshit-outofyou]

I am a Shakespeare nerd, I have been since high school. I have seen his plays all over the place from a floating stage at Lake Tahoe to the court yard of Marienberg Fortress in Würzburg Germany, and places in between. I have all his works including his will, It's just something I love. Henry V is my favorite play and made more important to me after I joined the Army and went to combat. Sir Kenneth Charles Branagh reedition in Henry V (1989) is still my favorite but Lillo Brancato's rendition in Renaissance Man (1994) is a close second.

Coincidentally enough my younger son was born on St. Crispin's Day

[domonicriley]

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.

[profoundlyv]

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.

-Shakespeare, Henry V

[no2ticonderoga]

King Henry V: 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.

From Henry V, Act IV, Scene III

[vox-anglosphere]

600 years later, King Henry's speech still gives us shivers

[chokemedaddyloki]

Happy St. Crispin's Day to all who celebrate.

[lenbryant]

Go follow this Shakespeare creator on TikTok if you’re on that platform. She has great passion for the Bard, and it’s infectious.