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“We few, we happy few, we band of brothers…”

“The St Crispin’s Day Speech” as heard in William Shakespeare’s Henry V is the standard by which military leaders have measured their own words of motivation. Yet, it’s also a truly beautiful and powerful piece on its own, to simply read or in the case of the play, to watch performed.

The speech prepares the men of England for their fight ahead: the Battle of Agincourt. Written in 1599, it debuted 184 years after the battle. A battle England won, despite the odds (outnumbered 10-1). But how? Shakespeare helps us understand by giving King Henry a speech like no other, one that could have very well willed England to victory against the formidable French.

So powerful is this speech, that actors are often judged by their delivery of it. Can they stir the emotions of the audience? William Shakespeare had provided the words. Now, could the actor do them justice?

After such a speech, we should want to be one of the “happy few.” To want to pick up a sword and fight alongside England. I think Kenneth Branagh does a wonderful job of this in Henry V. In my opinion, his finest hour. What do you think?

Note: The background music that begins slowly, only to swell perfectly to pair with King Henry’s speech is by composer Patrick Doyle. This was his first film score. Fittingly, given that this was also Kenneth Branagh’s main cinematic debut. On the soundtrack, it’s track 10: “St. Crispin’s Day - The Battle of Agincourt”.

The St Crispin’s Day Speech

Westmoreland: O that we now had here
But one ten thousand of those men in England
That do no work to-day!

King Henry: 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 call’d the feast of Crispian.
He that outlives this day, and comes safe home,
Will stand a tip-toe when this day is nam’d,
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 Crispian’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 rememb’red.
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 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 accurs’d they were not here,
And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks
That fought with us upon Saint Crispin’s day.

^{* Elizabethan costume, public domain. Courtesy of Karen’s Whimsy.}