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Tuesday, October 25, 2005

Hapy Feast of Sts. Crispin and Crispinian



Today is the feast of Sts. Crispin and Crispinian, as well as the 590th anniversary of the battle of Agincourt. Taking place as it did prior to the Tudor betrayels, it is a fitting time to celebrate the victory of the English and Henry V over the bungling French. Of course, regardless of who you're rooting for in general, this is one the French deserve to lose. Once again, the French prove that in military matters they will persistantly manage to be destroyed in spite of all factors that should dictate otherwise. Somehow numbers, weapons, technology, everything except being led by a saint, gets trumped by the sheer ignominy of being French. Let's send an unplanned, unsupported, poorly coordinated and led attack of heavily armored troops across a long open plain that just happens to be a mudhole. In the process, we'll suffer nine times the casaulties that we'll inflict on the English . . . sounds like a good idea to me! Or, it would, were I French. So, tonight, as you go about your business, don't go being French and get an army massacred. Instead, read Shakespeare.

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2 Comments:

Anonymous Jeff S. Lieberman said...

Could it be remembered better than:

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 called the feast of Crispian:
He that outlives this day, and comes safe home,
Will stand a tip-toe when the day is named,
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 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 remember'd;
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 accursed they were not here,
And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks
That fought with us upon Saint Crispin's day.

Wm. Shakespeare Henry V IV:III

8:43 AM  
Blogger Moneybags said...

These men are great examples of giving our lives up for Christ. They were fearless in the face of danger and Christ saved them from harm while, in the end, they received the greatest gift - eternal life.

This is the reason I love the Catholic Church's saints - they are wonderful role models of following Christ and Him alone.

1:58 PM  

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