Act 5, Scene 4 — Henry VI, Part 3

The argument Before the battle of Tewkesbury, Queen Margaret rallies her lords with a furious extended seafaring metaphor, Prince Edward speaks with martial courage, and Edward IV's forces arrive for the decisive confrontation.

Flourish. March. Enter Queen Margaret, Prince Edward, Somerset, Oxford

and Soldiers.

QUEEN MARGARET ≋ verse determined, fierce

Great lords, wise men ne’er sit and wail their loss,

But cheerly seek how to redress their harms.

What though the mast be now blown overboard,

The cable broke, the holding-anchor lost,

And half our sailors swallowed in the flood?

Yet lives our pilot still. Is ’t meet that he

Should leave the helm and, like a fearful lad,

With tearful eyes add water to the sea

And give more strength to that which hath too much,

Whiles in his moan the ship splits on the rock,

Which industry and courage might have saved?

Ah, what a shame, ah, what a fault were this!

Say Warwick was our anchor; what of that?

And Montague our topmast; what of him?

Our slaughtered friends the tackles; what of these?

Why, is not Oxford here another anchor?

And Somerset another goodly mast?

The friends of France our shrouds and tacklings?

And, though unskilful, why not Ned and I

For once allowed the skilful pilot’s charge?

We will not from the helm to sit and weep,

But keep our course, though the rough wind say no,

From shelves and rocks that threaten us with wrack.

As good to chide the waves as speak them fair.

And what is Edward but a ruthless sea?

What Clarence but a quicksand of deceit?

And Richard but a ragged fatal rock?

All these the enemies to our poor bark?

Say you can swim: alas, ’tis but a while!

Tread on the sand: why, there you quickly sink;

Bestride the rock: the tide will wash you off,

Or else you famish; that’s a threefold death.

This speak I, lords, to let you understand,

If case some one of you would fly from us,

That there’s no hoped-for mercy with the brothers

More than with ruthless waves, with sands, and rocks.

Why, courage then! What cannot be avoided

’Twere childish weakness to lament or fear.

Great lords, wise men ne’er sit and wail their loss, But cheerly seek how to redress their harms. What though the mast be now blown overboard, The cable broke, the holding-anchor lost, And half our sailors swallowed in the flood? Yet lives our pilot still. Is ’t meet that he Should leave the helm and, like a fearful lad, With tearful eyes add water to the sea And give more strength to that which has too much, Whiles in his moan the ship splits on the rock, Which industry and courage might have saved? Ah, what a shame, ah, what a fault were this! Say Warwick was our anchor; what of that? And Montague our topmast; what of him? Our slaughtered friends the tackles; what of these? Why, is not Oxford here another anchor? And Somerset another goodly mast? The friends of France our shrouds and tacklings? And, though unskilful, why not Ned and I For once allowed the skilful pilot’s charge? We will not from the helm to sit and weep, But keep our course, though the rough wind say no, From shelves and rocks that threaten us with wrack. As good to chide the waves as speak them fair. And what is Edward but a ruthless sea? What Clarence but a quicksand of deceit? And Richard but a ragged fatal rock? All these the enemies to our poor bark? Say you can swim: alas, ’tis but a while! Tread on the sand: why, there you quickly sink; Bestride the rock: the tide will wash you off, Or else you famish; that’s a threefold death. This speak I, lords, to let you understand, If case some one of you would fly from us, That there’s no hoped-for mercy with the brothers More than with ruthless waves, with sands, and rocks. Why, courage then! What cannot be avoided ’Twere childish weakness to lament or fear.

Great lords, wise men ne’er sit and wail their loss, But cheerly seek how to redress their harms. What though the mast be now blown overboard, The cable broke, the holding-anchor lost, And half our sailors swallowed in the flood? Yet lives our pilot still. Is ’t meet that he Should leave the helm and, like a fearful lad, With tearful eyes add water to the sea And give more strength to that which has too much, Whiles in his moan the ship splits on the rock, Which industry and courage might have saved? Ah, what a shame, ah, what a fault were this! Say Warwick was our anchor; what of that? And Montague our topmast; what of him? Our slaughtered friends the tackles; what of these? Why, is not Oxford here another anchor? And Somerset another goodly mast? The friends of France our shrouds and tacklings? And, though unskilful, why not Ned and I For once allowed the skilful pilot’s charge? We won't from the helm to sit and weep, But keep our course, though the rough wind say no, From shelves and rocks that threaten us with wrack. As good to chide the waves as speak them fair. And what is Edward but a ruthless sea? What Clarence but a quicksand of deceit? And Richard but a ragged fatal rock? All these the enemies to our poor bark? Say you can swim: alas, ’tis but a while! Tread on the sand: why, there you quickly sink; Bestride the rock: the tide will wash you off, Or else you famish; that’s a threefold death. This speak I, lords, to let you understand, If case some one of you would fly from us, That there’s no hoped-for mercy with the brothers More than with ruthless waves, with sands, and rocks. Why, courage then! What can't be avoided ’Twere childish weakness to lament or fear.

they are dead how did that even happen they charged at us

"And what is Edward but a ruthless sea? / What Clarence but a quicksand of deceit? / And Richard but a ragged fatal rock?" Margaret extends her seafaring metaphor to describe each York brother as a different kind of mortal danger. Richard as a 'ragged fatal rock' is particularly pointed — the metaphor captures both his physical deformity and his lethal purpose.

Why it matters Margaret's speech is the finest piece of oratory in all three Henry VI plays — a sustained metaphor that catalogs loss without surrendering to it.

↩ Callback to 5-2 Margaret's speech catalogs the losses — Warwick the anchor, Montague the topmast — that were described in the previous scene's deaths.

PRINCE EDWARD ≋ verse frustrated, angry

Methinks a woman of this valiant spirit

Should, if a coward heard her speak these words,

Infuse his breast with magnanimity

And make him, naked, foil a man at arms.

I speak not this as doubting any here;

For did I but suspect a fearful man,

He should have leave to go away betimes,

Lest in our need he might infect another

And make him of the like spirit to himself.

If any such be here, as God forbid!

Let him depart before we need his help.

I think a woman of this valiant spirit Should, if a coward heard her speak these words, Infuse his breast with magnanimity And make him, naked, foil a man at arms. I speak not this as doubting any here; For did I but suspect a fearful man, He should have leave to go away betimes, Lest in our need he might infect another And make him of the like spirit to himself. If any such be here, as God forbid! Let him depart before we need his help.

war blood death everything is chaos

🎭 Dramatic irony Prince Edward's offer to let anyone afraid leave before the battle is brave — but the audience knows the battle of Tewkesbury is historically a Lancastrian catastrophe. His courage is real; the outcome is predetermined.

OXFORD ≋ verse resolute

Women and children of so high a courage,

And warriors faint! Why, ’twere perpetual shame.

O, brave young Prince, thy famous grandfather

Doth live again in thee. Long mayst thou live

To bear his image and renew his glories!

Women and children of so high a courage, And warriors faint! Why, ’twere perpetual shame. O, brave young Prince, your famous grandfather does live again in you. Long mayst you live To bear his image and renew his glories!

war blood death everything is chaos

SOMERSET ≋ verse confused, surprised

And he that will not fight for such a hope,

Go home to bed and, like the owl by day,

If he arise, be mocked and wondered at.

And he that will not fight for such a hope, Go home to bed and, like the owl by day, If he arise, be mocked and wondered at.

And he that won't fight for such a hope, Go home to bed and, like the owl by day, If he arise, be mocked and wondered at.

how did that even happen

QUEEN MARGARET resolute

Thanks, gentle Somerset. Sweet Oxford, thanks.

PRINCE EDWARD resolute

And take his thanks that yet hath nothing else.

And take his thanks that yet has nothing else.

Enter a Messenger.

MESSENGER ≋ verse resolute

Prepare you, lords, for Edward is at hand

Ready to fight; therefore be resolute.

Prepare you, lords, for Edward is at hand Ready to fight; therefore be resolute.

OXFORD ≋ verse resolute

I thought no less. It is his policy

To haste thus fast, to find us unprovided.

I thought no less. It is his policy To haste thus fast, to find us unprovided.

SOMERSET resolute

But he’s deceived; we are in readiness.

QUEEN MARGARET resolute

This cheers my heart, to see your forwardness.

OXFORD determined, fierce

Here pitch our battle; hence we will not budge.

Flourish and march. Enter King Edward, Richard, George and Soldiers.

KING EDWARD ≋ verse resolute

Brave followers, yonder stands the thorny wood

Which by the heaven’s assistance and your strength

Must by the roots be hewn up yet ere night.

I need not add more fuel to your fire,

For, well I wot, ye blaze to burn them out.

Give signal to the fight, and to it, lords!

Brave followers, yonder stands the thorny wood Which by the heaven’s assistance and your strength Must by the roots be hewn up yet before night. I need not add more fuel to your fire, For, well I wot, ye blaze to burn them out. Give signal to the fight, and to it, lords!

war blood death everything is chaos

QUEEN MARGARET ≋ verse grieving, angry

Lords, knights, and gentlemen, what I should say

My tears gainsay; for every word I speak

Ye see I drink the water of my eye.

Therefore, no more but this: Henry, your sovereign,

Is prisoner to the foe, his state usurped,

His realm a slaughter-house, his subjects slain,

His statutes cancelled, and his treasure spent;

And yonder is the wolf that makes this spoil.

You fight in justice. Then, in God’s name, lords,

Be valiant and give signal to the fight.

Lords, knights, and gentlemen, what I should say My tears gainsay; for every word I speak Ye see I drink the water of my eye. Therefore, no more but this: Henry, your sovereign, Is prisoner to the foe, his state usurped, His realm a slaughter-house, his subjects slain, His statutes cancelled, and his treasure spent; And yonder is the wolf that makes this spoil. You fight in justice. Then, in God’s name, lords, Be valiant and give signal to the fight.

they are dead

[_Alarum, retreat, excursions. Exeunt both armies_]

The Reckoning

Margaret's speech is one of the great pre-battle orations in Shakespeare — more impressive, in its way, than Henry V's Crispin's Day speech, because it comes from a position of clear disadvantage. She has lost Warwick, lost the north, lost everything except her son and the men in front of her. And she refuses to give up. Prince Edward's response makes him the bravest and most articulate York/Lancaster heir in the whole play. Then Edward's forces arrive and the battle begins. The scene ends on the threshold of catastrophe.

If this happened today…

A startup is getting crushed. The co-founder who built the company from nothing gathers the remaining team in a conference room. The lead investor is gone. The CTO quit. The rival just raised a hundred million. And she stands up and says: 'Warwick was our anchor — he's gone. But we are the pilot. I am not leaving the helm to cry. The storm is Edward's army. The sea is Edward himself. Swim, tread, climb: none of those work against this tide. So we fight.' Her son, barely twenty, says: 'Anyone who's afraid can leave now.' Nobody leaves.

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