Saint Crispen day's speech

Schilderij van John Gilbert, de ochtend voor de slag bij Azincourt

 In Frankrijk staat 25 oktober bekend als de dag van Saint Crepin, in Engeland wordt het Saint Crispen's day genoemd. Het is op deze dag dat de Engelse koning Henry V slag leverde met het Franse leger nabij het kasteel dat in het Engels Agincourt genoemd wordt maar in Frankrijk bekend staat als Azincourt.
Het Engelse leger was ernstig in de minderheid, het was verzwakt van een twee weken lange mars en door gebrek aan voedsel. Bovendien waren veel van de manschappen ziek geworden. Het Franse leger werd ondertussen met de dag groter.
Volgens overlevering hield Henry V de ochtend voor de slag een toespraak om zijn mannen aan te moedigen.  Van die toespraak zijn slechts enkele woorden vastgelegd. Veel beroemder is de toespraak die William Shakespeare schreef voor zijn toneelstuk Henry V.

De daarop volgende veldslag leidde tot een eclatante overwinning voor het Engelse leger. Aan Engelse zijde vielen 112 doden en een onbekend aantal gewonden, aan Franse zijde vielen er bijna 10.000 doden en werden er 1500 edelen gevangen genomen voor losgeld.    
 Saint Crepin is de patroonheilige van wevers, schoenmakers en zadelmakers.   


Enter the KING

WESTMORELAND. O that we now had here
    But one ten thousand of those men in England
    That do no work to-day!
 
KING. 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. O, 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 call'd the feast of Crispian.
    He that outlives this day, and comes safe home,
    Will stand a tip-toe when this day is nam'd,
    And rouse him at the name of Crispian.
    He that shall live this day, and see old age,
    Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbours,
    And say 'To-morrow is Saint Crispian.'
    Then will he strip his sleeve and show his scars,
    And say 'These wounds I had on Crispian's day.'
    Old men forget; yet all shall be forgot,
    But he'll remember, with advantages,
    What feats he did that day. Then shall our names,
    Familiar in his mouth as household words-
    Harry the King, Bedford and Exeter,
    Warwick and Talbot, Salisbury and Gloucester-
    Be in their flowing cups freshly rememb'red.
    This story shall the good man teach his son;
    And Crispin Crispian shall ne'er go by,
    From this day to the ending of the world,
    But we in it shall be remembered-
    We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;
    For he to-day that sheds his blood with me
    Shall be my brother; be he ne'er so vile,
    This day shall gentle his condition;
    And gentlemen in England now-a-bed
    Shall think themselves accurs'd they were not here,
    And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks
    That fought with us upon Saint Crispin's day.
 
Henry V, William Shakespeare 1599

Tom Verhoeven
Auvergne,  herfst 2012