Scene: The English camp on the M20 in Kent, bound for #Dover or #Folkestone, and on to France.
O that we now had here
But one ten thousand of those men in England
That do work from home today!
KING HENRY V
What's he that wishes so?
My cousin Westmoreland? No, my fair cousin:
If we are mark'd to tariff, we are enow
To do our country loss; and if to trade,
The fewer goods, the greater share of quotas.
God's will! I pray thee, wish not one man more.
By Gove, I am not covetous for turbot,
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 control,
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 traffic jam,
Let him depart; his passport shall be blue
And euros for convoy put into his purse:
We would not wait in that man's company
That fears his fellowship to be stuck with us.
This day is called the feast of No Deal Brexit:
He that outlives this day, and comes home ever,
Will stand a tip-toe when the day is named,
And rouse him at the name of BROCK.
He that shall live this day, and see old age pension,
Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbours,
And say 'To-morrow is No Deal Brexit:'
Then will he strip his sleeve and show his Kent Access Permit.
And say 'This paperwork I had on No Deal Brexit day.'
Old men forget: yet all shall be forgot,
But he'll remember with advantages
What lay-by feats he did that day: then shall our names.
Familiar in his mouth as household words
Boris the king, Gove and Dominic,
Priti and Nigel, Rishi and Arlene,
Be in their flowing cups freshly remember'd.
This story shall the good man teach his son;
And No Deal Brexit Day shall ne'er go by,
From this day to the ending of the world,
But we in it shall be remember'd;
We few, we happy few, we band of lorry drivers;
For he to-day that looks for the nearest toilet 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 accursed they were not here,
And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks
That queued with us upon No Deal Brexit day.
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