>>9233085
Henry The V , act 4.
The fewer men, the greater share of honour.( or boobs )
God's will! I pray thee, wish not one man more.
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 companyThat 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 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 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 rememberèd—We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;For he to-day that sheds his blood with meShall be my brother; be he ne'er so vile,This day shall gentle his condition;And gentlemen in England now a-bedShall think themselves accurs'd they were not here,And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaksThat fought with us upon Saint Crispin's day.
William Shakespear