I want a William Wallace Post....when people are leaving the battle field...and Wallace rides up on the horse painted in blue, and makes his words about living a long life and dying and old man, or fighting for what they believe in. Freedom.
That's a great image and Mel Gibson doesn't hurt it a bit. Another that's just as rousing is from Henry V. I'll post the whole darn thing as it's about the most moving speech in the entire English language. If you haven't seen Kenneth Branaugh's performance, run out and rent it. One of the best movies ever made.
They're ready to go into battle at Agincourt, the French outnumber them 20 to 1 and Henry stands before them and says:
But if it be a sin to covet honour
I am the most offending soul alive,
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 called 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 sees old age,
Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbors,
And say, 'To-morrow is Saint Crispian:'
Then will he strip his sleeve and show his scars,
And say, 'These wounds I had on Crispin'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 remember'd.
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. |
