Speakers' Corner No. 1

I find "Quote of the Day" or "Post of the Day" blogposts intensely annoying, especially if there is in fact more than one on the same day, as happens occasionally. I thought of perhaps starting a "Thought for the day" thing, for when I come across a particularly good quote or fact or perhaps even a poem or suchlike. However, I might have more than one a day, so it can't be "for/of the day". Although, "Thought" as a title by itself makes me sound tremendously stupid, as if I don't regularly have any thoughts at all.

So I have decided to call this little spot "Speakers' Corner", even though it is probably entirely unoriginal, and definitely sounds as if I arrogantly assume an intellectual monopoly over the concept of free speech and protest within the format of a blog. I don't, obviously; in my twenty seconds spent on the first page of a Google search for "Speakers' Corner", I see it is the name of a (London) radio station, some sort of agency for public speakers, and a charity roughly linked to the factual place.

For those that don't know, Speakers' Corner is, according to London Town.com:

Not strictly classed "entertainment", this bastion of British free public speech and free assembly can prove one of the most absorbingly unique, theatrical activities the city has to offer. Located on the corner of Park Lane and Cumberland Gate, opposite Marble Arch tube, Speakers' Corner is the spiritual home of the British democratic tradition of soapbox oratory. Every Sunday since the right of free assembly was recognised in 1872 in the Royal Parks and Garden's Act, people from all walks of life have gathered to listen to speeches about anything and everything... and to heckle. From Socialism to Sunday trading, sausages to space invaders, the opinions aired here are varied and fascinating. While Karl Marx, Lenin, George Orwell, and William Morris have all used this spot to express their ideals and beliefs, your average speaker isn't quite as high profile. The coherence of the speakers also varies greatly, but as a whole it makes for great street theatre. Come and watch, come and heckle, or, if you have a burning desire to share your opinions with the world, come and spout - take something to stand on and start pontificating. Although Sunday morning is the best time to visit, speakers can now be found on the corner throughout the week.

Which describes what I'm trying to do fairly well. I'll title them "Speakers' Corner No. xx" for clarity, and label each post, so you can see the whole category.

So, the first one shall be this, as it is St. Crispin's Day:

If we are mark'd to die, we are enow
To do our country loss; and if to live,
The fewer men, the greater share of honour.
God's will! I pray thee, wish not one man more.
By Jove, I am not covetous for gold,
Nor care I who doth feed upon my cost;
It yearns me not if men my garments wear;
Such outward things dwell not in my desires.
But if it be a sin to covet honour,
I am the most offending soul alive.
No, faith, my coz, wish not a man from England.
God's peace! I would not lose so great an honour
As one man more methinks would share from me
For the best hope I have. O, do not wish one more!
Rather proclaim it, Westmoreland, through my host,
That he which hath no stomach to this fight,
Let him depart; his passport shall be made,
And crowns for convoy put into his purse;
We would not die in that man's company
That fears his fellowship to die with us.
This day is call'd the feast of Crispian.
He that outlives this day, and comes safe home,
Will stand a tip-toe when this day is nam'd,
And rouse him at the name of Crispian.
He that shall live this day, and see old age,
Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbours,
And say 'To-morrow is Saint Crispian.'
Then will he strip his sleeve and show his scars,
And say 'These wounds I had on Crispian's day.'
Old men forget; yet all shall be forgot,
But he'll remember, with advantages,
What feats he did that day. Then shall our names,
Familiar in his mouth as household words-
Harry the King, Bedford and Exeter,
Warwick and Talbot, Salisbury and Gloucester-
Be in their flowing cups freshly rememb'red.
This story shall the good man teach his son;
And Crispin Crispian shall ne'er go by,
From this day to the ending of the world,
But we in it shall be remembered-
We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;
For he to-day that sheds his blood with me
Shall be my brother; be he ne'er so vile,
This day shall gentle his condition;
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.

From Henry V, Act 4, Scene III