How yet resolves the governor of the town?

3.3.21261This is the latest parle we will admit,

3.3.31262Therefore to our best mercy give yourselves,

3.3.41263Or like to men proud of destruction

3.3.51264Defy us to our worst; for as I am a soldier,

3.3.61265A name that in my thoughts becomes me best,

3.3.71266If I begin the batt'ry once again,

3.3.81267I will not leave the half-achieved Harfleur

3.3.91268Till in her ashes she lie burièd.

3.3.101269The gates of mercy shall be all shut up,

3.3.111270And the fleshed soldier, rough and hard of heart,

3.3.121271In liberty of bloody hand shall range

3.3.131272With conscience wide as hell, mowing like grass

3.3.141273Your fresh fair virgins and your flow'ring infants.

3.3.151274What is it then to me if impious war,

3.3.161275Arrayed in flames like to the prince of fiends,

3.3.171276Do with his smirched complexion all fell feats

3.3.181277Enlinked to waste and desolation?

3.3.191278What is't to me, when you yourselves are cause,

3.3.201279If your pure maidens fall into the hand

3.3.211280Of hot and forcing violation?

3.3.221281What rein can hold licentious wickedness

3.3.231282When down the hill he holds his fierce career?

3.3.241283We may as bootless spend our vain command

3.3.251284Upon th'enragèd soldiers in their spoil

3.3.261285As send precepts to the leviathan

3.3.27To come ashore. 1286Therefore, you men of Harfleur,

3.3.281287Take pity of your town and of your people

3.3.291288Whiles yet my soldiers are in my command,

3.3.301289Whiles yet the cool and temperate wind of grace

3.3.311290O'er-blows the filthy and contagious clouds

3.3.321291Of headly murder, spoil, and villainy.

3.3.331292If not, why in a moment look to see

3.3.341293The blind and bloody soldier with foul hand

3.3.351294Defile the locks of your shrill-shrieking daughters,

3.3.361295Your fathers taken by the silver beards

3.3.371296And their most reverend heads dashed to the walls,

3.3.381297Your naked infants spitted upon pikes

3.3.391298Whiles the mad mothers with their howls confused

3.3.401299Do break the clouds, as did the wives of Jewry

3.3.411300At Herod's bloody-hunting slaughtermen.

3.3.421301What say you? Will you yield and this avoid,

3.3.431302Or, guilty in defense, be thus destroyed?

Our expectation hath this day an end:

3.3.451305The dauphin, whom of succors we entreated,

3.3.461306Returns us that his powers are yet not ready

3.3.471307To raise so great a siege. Therefore, great king,

3.3.481308We yield our town and lives to thy soft mercy.

3.3.491309Enter our gates; dispose of us and ours,

3.3.501310For we no longer are defensible.

Open your gates. --

Open your gates. -- Come, uncle Exeter,

3.3.521312Go you and enter Harfleur; there remain

3.3.531313And fortify it strongly 'gainst the French.

3.3.541314Use mercy to them all for us, dear uncle.

3.3.551315The winter coming on and sickness growing

3.3.561316Upon our soldiers, we will retire to Calais.

3.3.571317Tonight in Harfleur will we be your guest;

3.3.581318Tomorrow for the march are we addressed.