Saint George and victory! Fight, soldiers, fight!

4.6.22173The Regent hath with Talbot broke his word,

4.6.32174And left us to the rage of France his sword.

4.6.42175Where is John Talbot? [To John.] Pause, and take thy breath.

4.6.52176I gave thee life, and rescued thee from death.

O twice my father, twice am I thy son:

4.6.72178The life thou gav'st me first, was lost and done

4.6.82179Till with thy warlike sword, despite of fate,

4.6.92180To my determined time thou gav'st new date.

When from the Dauphin's crest thy sword struck fire

4.6.112182It warmed thy father's heart with proud desire

4.6.122183Of bold-faced victory. Then leaden age,

4.6.132184Quickened with youthful spleen and warlike rage,

4.6.142185Beat down Alencon, Orléans, Burgundy,

4.6.152186And from the pride of Gallia rescued thee.

4.6.162187The ireful bastard Orléans, that drew blood

4.6.172188From thee, my boy, and had the maidenhood

4.6.182189Of thy first fight, I soon encounterèd,

4.6.192190And interchanging blows, I quickly shed

4.6.202191Some of his bastard blood, and in disgrace

4.6.212192Bespoke him thus: "Contaminated, base,

4.6.222193And misbegotten blood I spill of thine,

4.6.232194Mean and right poor, for that pure blood of mine

4.6.242195Which thou didst force from Talbot, my brave boy."

4.6.252196Here, purposing the Bastard to destroy,

4.6.262197Came in strong rescue. Speak thy father's care:

4.6.272198Art thou not weary, John? How dost thou fare?

4.6.282199Wilt thou yet leave the battle, boy, and fly,

4.6.292200Now thou art sealed the son of chivalry?

4.6.302201Fly to revenge my death when I am dead;

4.6.312202The help of one stands me in little stead.

4.6.322203O, too much folly is it, well I wot,

4.6.332204To hazard all our lives in one small boat.

4.6.342205If I today die not with Frenchmen's rage,

4.6.352206Tomorrow I shall die with mickle age.

4.6.362207By me they nothing gain, and if I stay

4.6.372208'Tis but the short'ning of my life one day.

4.6.382209In thee thy mother dies, our household's name,

4.6.392210My death's revenge, thy youth, and England's fame.

4.6.402211All these and more we hazard by thy stay;

4.6.412212All these are saved if thou wilt fly away.

The sword of Orléans hath not made me smart;

4.6.432214These words of yours draw life-blood from my heart.

4.6.442215On that advantage, bought with such a shame,

4.6.452216To save a paltry life and slay bright fame,

4.6.462217Before young Talbot from old Talbot fly

4.6.472218The coward horse that bears me, fall and die;

4.6.482219And like me to the peasant boys of France,

4.6.492220To be shame's scorn and subject of mischance.

4.6.502221Surely, by all the glory you have won,

4.6.512222And if I fly I am not Talbot's son.

4.6.522223Then talk no more of flight; it is no boot.

4.6.532224If son to Talbot, die at Talbot's foot.

Then follow thou thy desp'rate sire of Crete,

4.6.552226Thou Icarus, thy life to me is sweet.

4.6.562227If thou wilt fight, fight by thy father's side,

4.6.572228And commendable proved, let's die in pride.