Yesterday was St. Crispin’s Day, and if you remember your English history, it was the anniversary of the great battle of Agincourt (1415, the Hundred Years’ War). Below you will find my favorite lines from Shakespeare’s Henry V (act 4, scene 8), in which that godly English monarch gives all the glory to God for the amazing English victory that day over the French. I cannot imagine an American president today saying anything remotely close to these lines. See especially the lines I have highlighted.
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| | This note doth tell me of ten thousand French That in the field lie slain: of princes, in this number, | |
| | And nobles bearing banners, there lie dead | 80 |
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One hundred twenty six: added to these, | |
| | Of knights, esquires, and gallant gentlemen, | |
| | Eight thousand and four hundred; of the which, | |
| | Five hundred were but yesterday dubb'd knights: | |
| | So that, in these ten thousand they have lost, | 85 |
| | There are but sixteen hundred mercenaries; | |
| | The rest are princes, barons, lords, knights, squires, | |
| | And gentlemen of blood and quality. | |
| | The names of those their nobles that lie dead: | |
| | Charles Delabreth, high constable of France; | 90 |
| | Jaques of Chatillon, admiral of France; | |
| | The master of the cross-bows, Lord Rambures; | |
| | Great Master of France, the brave Sir Guichard Dolphin, | |
| | John Duke of Alencon, Anthony Duke of Brabant, | |
| | The brother of the Duke of Burgundy, | 95 |
| | And Edward Duke of Bar: of lusty earls, | |
| | Grandpre and Roussi, Fauconberg and Foix, | |
| | Beaumont and Marle, Vaudemont and Lestrale. | |
| | Here was a royal fellowship of death! | |
| | Where is the number of our English dead? | 100 |
| | Herald shews him another paper | |
| | Edward the Duke of York, the Earl of Suffolk, | |
| | Sir Richard Ketly, Davy Gam, esquire: | |
| | None else of name; and of all other men | |
| | But five and twenty. O God, thy arm was here; | |
| | And not to us, but to thy arm alone, | 105 |
| | Ascribe we all! When, without stratagem, | |
| | But in plain shock and even play of battle, | |
| | Was ever known so great and little loss | |
| | On one part and on the other? Take it, God, | |
| | For it is none but thine! |
