But if we live, the fewer men,
the greater fame accrues.
I pray you wish not one man more
who thinks to claim a share.
For we have honors, barely one,
and there is none to spare.
for if you shed your blood with me,
And men in England now, abed,
they were not here to fight with us
Proclaim it now throughout my host
To bear no false pretense
If you've no stomach for this fight
The price of passage you shall have
We will not bear his company
For if you shed your blood with me
Bed shall feel the curse,
To fight with us upon St. Crispin's Day
He that shall live to see old age
And come save home at last
Shall on this vi gil feast his friends
He will with pride display his wounds and scars,
And any man who was not here
shall hold his manhood cheap.
for if you shed your blood with me,
And men in England now abed
they were not here to fight with us,
but he'll remember while he lives
what feats he did this day.
So shall the good man teach his son
And to our memories we'll drink,
for if you shed your blood with me,
And men in England now abed
they were not here to fight with us
And men in England now abed
They were not here to fight with us