King Henry V: Customs curtsy to great kings. We are the makers of manners, Kate.
Exeter: This was a merry message.
King Henry V: We hope to make the sender blush at it.
Constable: Where have they this mettle? Is not their climate foggy, raw and dull?
Chorus: Behold, as may unworthiness define / a little touch of Harry in the night.
King Henry V: If little faults proceeding on distemper shall not be winked at, how shall we stretch our eye, when capital crimes, chewed, swallowed and digested appear before us?
King Henry V: We few, we happy few, we band of brothers.
King Henry V: I was not angry since I came to France, until this instant.
King Henry V: We would not seek a battle as we are, but as we are, we say we will not shun it.