Act III, Scene 1

France. Before Harfleur.

[Alarum. Enter KING HENRY, EXETER, BEDFORD,] [p]GLOUCESTER, and Soldiers, with scaling-ladders]

• Henry V. Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more;
  Or close the wall up with our English dead.
  In peace there's nothing so becomes a man
  As modest stillness and humility: 1095
  But when the blast of war blows in our ears,
  Then imitate the action of the tiger;
  Stiffen the sinews, summon up the blood,
  Disguise fair nature with hard-favour'd rage;
  Then lend the eye a terrible aspect; 1100
  Let pry through the portage of the head
  Like the brass cannon; let the brow o'erwhelm it
  As fearfully as doth a galled rock
  O'erhang and jutty his confounded base,
  Swill'd with the wild and wasteful ocean. 1105
  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, 1110
  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 call'd fathers did beget you.
  Be copy now to men of grosser blood, 1115
  And teach them how to war. And you, good yeoman,
  Whose limbs were made in England, show us here
  The mettle of your pasture; let us swear
  That you are worth your breeding; which I doubt not;
  For there is none of you so mean and base, 1120
  That hath not noble lustre in your eyes.
  I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips,
  Straining upon the start. The game's afoot:
  Follow your spirit, and upon this charge
  Cry 'God for Harry, England, and Saint George!' 1125

[Exeunt. Alarum, and chambers go off]