TALBOT.
Fly, to revenge my death if I be slain.
JOHN TALBOT.
He that flies so will ne’er return again.
TALBOT.
If we both stay, we both are sure to die.
JOHN TALBOT.
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.
TALBOT.
Shall all thy mother’s hopes lie in one tomb?
JOHN TALBOT.
Ay, rather than I’ll shame my mother’s womb.
TALBOT.
Upon my blessing, I command thee go.
JOHN TALBOT.
To fight I will, but not to fly the foe.
TALBOT.
Part of thy father may be saved in thee.
JOHN TALBOT.
No part of him but will be shame in me.