A Lady's Ruminations

"Jane was firm where she felt herself to be right." -Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice


Saturday, March 01, 2008

Bravo Harry

He willingly went to war, in the finest tradition of English Royalty.

But now, because of the silly media (yes, you, Drudge!), Harry has to go home.

He was doing a fabulous job in Aghanistan and that was where he wanted to be. How unfortunate that he can no longer do so safely.

More from the Telegraph.

And Michael Yon: A Prince and A Soldier.

And now, Prince William might also do his duty.

As Admiral Nelson said, "England expects that every man will do his duty." And we should be glad the Princes are willing to do theirs.

What better than Shakespeare?

Henry V, Act III, Scene i:

KING HENRY.
Once more unto 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-favour'd rage;

Then lend the eye a terrible aspect;
Let it pry through the portage of the head
Like the brass cannon; let the brow o'erwhelm it
As fearfully as does a galled rock
O'erhang 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 sheath'd 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 yeomen,
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!"

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