Fire answers fire, and through their paly flames Each battle sees the others umbered face; Steed threatens steed, in high and boastful neighs Piercing the nights dull ear, and from the tents The armourers, accomplishing the knights, With busy hammers closing rivets up,1 Give dreadful note of preparation.
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 named, And rouse him at the name of Crispian.
Then shall our names, Familiar in his mouth2 as household words, Harry the King, Bedford and Exeter, Warwick and Talbot, Salisbury and Gloucester, Be in their flowing cups freshly remembered.