But, by the mass, our hearts are in the trim; And my poor soldiers tell me, yet ere night They'll be in fresher robes, or they will pluck The gay new coats o'er the French soldiers' heads And turn them out of service. If they do this,--
But, by God, our hearts are still in shape; And my tired soldiers say that before nightfall They'll have fresh uniforms, or they'll strip The fine new clothes off French soldiers And send them home jobless. If they do this—
King Henry V · Act 4, Scene 3
When Montjoy demands Henry's ransom before battle, Henry refuses and pivots to mock the French with dark humor about stripping corpses. The line matters because it shows Henry's mastery of rhetoric in moments of highest pressure—he transforms a moment of weakness into defiant comedy. It reveals a king who must always project certainty, even when outnumbered and outmatched.
All things are ready, if our minds be so.
Everything is ready—if our spirits are too.
King Henry V · Act 4, Scene 3
When Salisbury reports that the French are ready to attack, Henry reduces the entire machinery of war to a matter of will and readiness of spirit. The line is quotable because it encapsulates Henry's philosophy—that kingship and victory are as much about commanding one's own mind as about armies and tactics. It reveals his belief that thought precedes action and that a king shapes reality through force of intention.
God’s arm strike with us! ’tis a fearful odds. God be wi’ you, princes all; I’ll to my charge: If we no more meet till we meet in heaven, Then, joyfully, my noble Lord of Bedford, My dear Lord Gloucester, and my good Lord Exeter, And my kind kinsman, warriors all, adieu!
God’s strength be with us! The odds are terrifying. God be with you, princes all; I’ll go to my post: If we don’t meet again till heaven, then, joyfully, my noble Lord of Bedford, My dear Lord Gloucester, and my good Lord Exeter, And my kind kinsman, warriors all, goodbye!
Salisbury · Act 4, Scene 3
Salisbury is saying goodbye to his fellow nobles before the battle, speaking the prayer of a man who knows he might not see them again in this world. He commends them to God, calls them warriors and kinsmen, and bids them a farewell that sounds final. The line matters because it is the voice of a soldier at peace with his mortality, certain of his loyalty, and ready to accept whatever comes. Salisbury does not survive Agincourt, and his words are his epitaph.