[Intro]
King Henry the Fifth and his army are surrounded by the enemy. His men are weary and dispirited. It has been an unpopular war and the men want to quit fighting and return to their homes. But the French are on all sides outnumbering the English by many. As the men reluctantly prepare to return to battle, King Henry, astride his horse, sword in hand, tries to rally his men and ignite their waning courage

Once more under the breach, dear friends, once more;
Or close the wall up with our English dead
In peace there's nothing so becomes a man
As modest stillness and humility:
But when the blast of war blows in our ears
Then imitate the action of the tiger;
Stiffen the sinews, summon up the blood
Disguise fair nature with hard-favoured rage;
Then lend the eye a terrible aspect;
Let pry through the portage of the head
Like the brass cannon; let the brow overwhelm it
As fearfully as doth a galled rock
Overhang and jutty his confounded base
Swill'd with the wild and wasteful ocean
Now set the teeth and stretch the nostril wide
Hold hard the breath and bend up every spirit
To his full height. On, on, you noblest English
Whose blood is fet from fathers of war-proof!
Fathers that, like so many Alexanders
Have in these parts from morn till even fought
And sheathed their swords for lack of argument:
Dishonour not your mothers; now attest
That those whom you call'd fathers did beget you
Be copy now to men of grosser blood
And teach them how to war. And you, good yeoman
Whose limbs were made in England, show us here
The mettle of your pasture; let us swear
That you are worth your breeding; which I doubt not;
For there is none of you so mean and base
That hath not noble lustre in your eyes
I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips
Straining upon the start. The game's afoot:
Follow your spirit, and upon this charge
Cry 'God for Harry, England, and Saint George!'