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. Oh, 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 thi
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. Oh, 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 thi