Cry havoc and let slip the dogs of war!
Ambition, the soldier's virtue.
We few. We happy few. We band of brothers, for he today That sheds his blood with me Shall be my brother.
Give obedience where 'tis truly owed.
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.
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