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- Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more,
- Or close the wall up with our English dead.
- In peace thereÆs nothing so becomes a man
- As modest stillness and humility,
- But when the blast of war blows in our ears,
- Then imitate the action of the tiger.
- Stiffen the sinews, conjure up the blood,
- Disguise fair nature with hard-favoured rage.
- Then lend the eye a terrible aspect,
- Let it pry through the portage of the head
- Like the brass cannon, let the brow oÆerwhelm it
- As fearfully as doth a gallΦd rock
- OÆerhang and jutty his confounded base,
- Swilled with the wild and wasteful ocean.
- Now set the teeth and stretch the nostril wide,
- Hold hard the breath, and bend up every spirit
- To his full height. On, on, you noblest English,
- Whose blood is fet from fathers of war-proof,
- Fathers that like so many Alexanders
- Have in these parts from morn till even fought,
- And sheathed their swords for lack of argument.
- Dishonour not your mothers; now attest
- That those whom you called fathers did beget you.
- Be copy now to men of grosser blood,
- And teach them how to war. And you, good yeomen,
- Whose limbs were made in England, show us here
- The mettle of your pasture; let us swear
- That you are worth your breeding ù which I doubt not,
- For there is none of you so mean and base
- That hath not noble lustre in your eyes.
- I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips,
- Straining upon the start. The gameÆs afoot.
- Follow your spirit, and upon this charge
- Cry, ôGod for Harry! England and Saint George!ö
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