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Modern English
O young John Talbot! I did send for thee To tutor thee in stratagems of war, That Talbot’s name might be in thee revived When sapless age and weak unable limbs Should bring thy father to his drooping chair. But, O malignant and ill-boding stars! Now thou art come unto a feast of death, A terrible and unavoided danger: Therefore, dear boy, mount on my swiftest horse; And I’ll direct thee how thou shalt escape By sudden flight: come, dally not, be gone.
Oh, young John Talbot! I sent for you To teach you the strategies of war, So that Talbot’s name might live on in you When old age and weak, failing limbs Would bring your father to his sad chair. But, oh, cursed and unlucky stars! Now you’ve come to a deadly fate, A terrible, unavoidable danger: So, dear boy, get on my fastest horse; I’ll show you how to escape By a quick flight: come, don’t delay, go now.
Is my name Talbot? and am I your son? And shall I fly? O if you love my mother, Dishonour not her honourable name, To make a bastard and a slave of me! The world will say, he is not Talbot’s blood, That basely fled when noble Talbot stood.
Is my name Talbot? Am I your son? And should I flee? Oh, if you love my mother, Don’t dishonor her good name, By making me a bastard and a slave! The world will say I’m not Talbot’s blood, That I cowardly fled while noble Talbot stayed.
Fly, to revenge my death, if I be slain.
Flee, to avenge my death if I’m killed.
He that flies so will ne’er return again.
He who flees like that will never return.
If we both stay, we both are sure to die.
If we both stay, we’re both certain to die.
Then let me stay; and, father, do you fly: Your loss is great, so your regard should be; My worth unknown, no loss is known in me. Upon my death the French can little boast; In yours they will, in you all hopes are lost. Flight cannot stain the honour you have won; But mine it will, that no exploit have done: You fled for vantage, everyone will swear; But, if I bow, they’ll say it was for fear. There is no hope that ever I will stay, If the first hour I shrink and run away. Here on my knee I beg mortality, Rather than life preserved with infamy.
Then let me stay; father, you should flee: Your loss is great, so your life matters more; I’m unknown, so my death means little. The French can boast little from my death; But if you die, all hope for England is lost. Fleeing won’t ruin your honor; But mine will be tarnished, as I’ve done nothing brave: You’ll flee for a good reason, everyone will say; But if I bow out, they’ll say it’s out of fear. There’s no hope I’ll stay, If I show weakness and run away at the first sign. Here on my knees I beg for death, Rather than live with dishonor.
Shall all thy mother’s hopes lie in one tomb?
Shall all your mother’s hopes rest in one grave?
Ay, rather than I’ll shame my mother’s womb.
Yes, better than I’ll bring shame to my mother’s womb.
Upon my blessing, I command thee go.
I swear, I order you to go.
To fight I will, but not to fly the foe.
I’ll fight, but I won’t run from the enemy.
Part of thy father may be saved in thee.
Some of your father’s courage is in you.
No part of him but will be shame in me.
There’s nothing of him in me that won’t bring shame.
Thou never hadst renown, nor canst not lose it.
You never had a reputation, so you can’t lose it.
Yes, your renowned name: shall flight abuse it?
Yes, your famous name—will running away ruin it?
Thy father’s charge shall clear thee from that stain.
Your father’s honor will clear you of that stain.
You cannot witness for me, being slain. If death be so apparent, then both fly.
You can’t vouch for me now, since you’re dead. If death is so obvious, then let’s both run.
And leave my followers here to fight and die? My age was never tainted with such shame.
And leave my men here to fight and die? My age has never been dishonored like that.
And shall my youth be guilty of such blame? No more can I be sever’d from your side, Than can yourself yourself in twain divide: Stay, go, do what you will, the like do I; For live I will not, if my father die.
And should my youth bear such guilt? I can no more be separated from you Than you can cut yourself in half: Stay, go, do what you want, I’ll do the same; For I won’t live if my father dies.
Then here I take my leave of thee, fair son, Born to eclipse thy life this afternoon. Come, side by side together live and die. And soul with soul from France to heaven fly.
Then I say goodbye to you, my dear son, Born to overshadow your life this afternoon. Come, let us live and die together. And may our souls fly from France to heaven.