No Fear Shakespeare: Henry VI, Part 1: Act 4 Scene 6

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Original Text	Modern Text
Alarum. Excursions, wherein Talbot’s son JOHN is hemmed about, and TALBOT rescues him.	Alarum. Excursions, wherein Talbot’s son JOHN is hemmed about, and TALBOT rescues him.
TALBOT Saint George, and victory! Fight, soldiers, fight! The Regent hath with Talbot broke his word And left us to the rage of France his sword. Where is John Talbot?—Pause, and take thy breath; 5 I gave thee life and rescued thee from death.	TALBOT Saint George, and victory! Fight, soldiers, fight! The Regent hath with Talbot broke his word And left us to the rage of France his sword. Where is John Talbot?—Pause, and take thy breath; 5 I gave thee life and rescued thee from death.
JOHN TALBOT O, twice my father, twice am I thy son! The life thou gav’st me first was lost and done Till with thy warlike sword, despite of fate, To my determined time thou gav’st new date.	JOHN TALBOT O, twice my father, twice am I thy son! The life thou gav’st me first was lost and done Till with thy warlike sword, despite of fate, To my determined time thou gav’st new date.
TALBOT 10 When from the Dauphin’s crest thy sword struck fire, It warmed thy father’s heart with proud desire Of bold-faced victory. Then leaden age, Quickened with youthful spleen and warlike rage, Beat down Alanson, Orleance, Burgundy, 15 And from the pride of Gallia rescued thee. The ireful Bastard Orleance, that drew blood From thee, my boy, and had the maidenhood Of thy first fight, I soon encounterèd, And, interchanging blows, I quickly shed 20 Some of his bastard blood, and in disgrace Bespoke him thus: “Contaminated, base, And misbegotten blood I spill of thine, Mean and right poor, for that pure blood of mine Which thou didst force from Talbot, my brave boy.” 25 Here, purposing the Bastard to destroy, Came in strong rescue. Speak, thy father’s care: Art thou not weary, John? How dost thou fare? Wilt thou yet leave the battle, boy, and fly, Now thou art sealed the son of chivalry? 30 Fly, to revenge my death when I am dead; The help of one stands me in little stead. O, too much folly is it, well I wot, To hazard all our lives in one small boat. If I today die not with Frenchmen’s rage, 35 Tomorrow I shall die with mickle age. By me they nothing gain, and, if I stay, ’Tis but the short’ning of my life one day. In thee thy mother dies, our household’s name, My death’s revenge, thy youth, and England’s fame. 40 All these and more we hazard by thy stay; All these are saved if thou wilt fly away.	TALBOT 10 When from the Dauphin’s crest thy sword struck fire, It warmed thy father’s heart with proud desire Of bold-faced victory. Then leaden age, Quickened with youthful spleen and warlike rage, Beat down Alanson, Orleance, Burgundy, 15 And from the pride of Gallia rescued thee. The ireful Bastard Orleance, that drew blood From thee, my boy, and had the maidenhood Of thy first fight, I soon encounterèd, And, interchanging blows, I quickly shed 20 Some of his bastard blood, and in disgrace Bespoke him thus: “Contaminated, base, And misbegotten blood I spill of thine, Mean and right poor, for that pure blood of mine Which thou didst force from Talbot, my brave boy.” 25 Here, purposing the Bastard to destroy, Came in strong rescue. Speak, thy father’s care: Art thou not weary, John? How dost thou fare? Wilt thou yet leave the battle, boy, and fly, Now thou art sealed the son of chivalry? 30 Fly, to revenge my death when I am dead; The help of one stands me in little stead. O, too much folly is it, well I wot, To hazard all our lives in one small boat. If I today die not with Frenchmen’s rage, 35 Tomorrow I shall die with mickle age. By me they nothing gain, and, if I stay, ’Tis but the short’ning of my life one day. In thee thy mother dies, our household’s name, My death’s revenge, thy youth, and England’s fame. 40 All these and more we hazard by thy stay; All these are saved if thou wilt fly away.
JOHN TALBOT The sword of Orleance hath not made me smart; These words of yours draw lifeblood from my heart. On that advantage, bought with such a shame, 45 To save a paltry life and slay bright fame, Before young Talbot from old Talbot fly, The coward horse that bears me fall and die! And like me to the peasant boys of France, To be shame’s scorn and subject of mischance! 50 Surely, by all the glory you have won, An if I fly, I am not Talbot’s son. Then talk no more of flight, it is no boot; If son to Talbot, die at Talbot’s foot.	JOHN TALBOT The sword of Orleance hath not made me smart; These words of yours draw lifeblood from my heart. On that advantage, bought with such a shame, 45 To save a paltry life and slay bright fame, Before young Talbot from old Talbot fly, The coward horse that bears me fall and die! And like me to the peasant boys of France, To be shame’s scorn and subject of mischance! 50 Surely, by all the glory you have won, An if I fly, I am not Talbot’s son. Then talk no more of flight, it is no boot; If son to Talbot, die at Talbot’s foot.
TALBOT Then follow thou thy desp’rate sire of Crete, 55 Thou Icarus; thy life to me is sweet. If thou wilt fight, fight by thy father’s side, And commendable proved, let’s die in pride.	TALBOT Then follow thou thy desp’rate sire of Crete, 55 Thou Icarus; thy life to me is sweet. If thou wilt fight, fight by thy father’s side, And commendable proved, let’s die in pride.
They exit.	They exit.

Original Text	Modern Text
Alarum. Excursions, wherein Talbot’s son JOHN is hemmed about, and TALBOT rescues him.	Alarum. Excursions, wherein Talbot’s son JOHN is hemmed about, and TALBOT rescues him.
TALBOT Saint George, and victory! Fight, soldiers, fight! The Regent hath with Talbot broke his word And left us to the rage of France his sword. Where is John Talbot?—Pause, and take thy breath; 5 I gave thee life and rescued thee from death.	TALBOT Saint George, and victory! Fight, soldiers, fight! The Regent hath with Talbot broke his word And left us to the rage of France his sword. Where is John Talbot?—Pause, and take thy breath; 5 I gave thee life and rescued thee from death.
JOHN TALBOT O, twice my father, twice am I thy son! The life thou gav’st me first was lost and done Till with thy warlike sword, despite of fate, To my determined time thou gav’st new date.	JOHN TALBOT O, twice my father, twice am I thy son! The life thou gav’st me first was lost and done Till with thy warlike sword, despite of fate, To my determined time thou gav’st new date.
TALBOT 10 When from the Dauphin’s crest thy sword struck fire, It warmed thy father’s heart with proud desire Of bold-faced victory. Then leaden age, Quickened with youthful spleen and warlike rage, Beat down Alanson, Orleance, Burgundy, 15 And from the pride of Gallia rescued thee. The ireful Bastard Orleance, that drew blood From thee, my boy, and had the maidenhood Of thy first fight, I soon encounterèd, And, interchanging blows, I quickly shed 20 Some of his bastard blood, and in disgrace Bespoke him thus: “Contaminated, base, And misbegotten blood I spill of thine, Mean and right poor, for that pure blood of mine Which thou didst force from Talbot, my brave boy.” 25 Here, purposing the Bastard to destroy, Came in strong rescue. Speak, thy father’s care: Art thou not weary, John? How dost thou fare? Wilt thou yet leave the battle, boy, and fly, Now thou art sealed the son of chivalry? 30 Fly, to revenge my death when I am dead; The help of one stands me in little stead. O, too much folly is it, well I wot, To hazard all our lives in one small boat. If I today die not with Frenchmen’s rage, 35 Tomorrow I shall die with mickle age. By me they nothing gain, and, if I stay, ’Tis but the short’ning of my life one day. In thee thy mother dies, our household’s name, My death’s revenge, thy youth, and England’s fame. 40 All these and more we hazard by thy stay; All these are saved if thou wilt fly away.	TALBOT 10 When from the Dauphin’s crest thy sword struck fire, It warmed thy father’s heart with proud desire Of bold-faced victory. Then leaden age, Quickened with youthful spleen and warlike rage, Beat down Alanson, Orleance, Burgundy, 15 And from the pride of Gallia rescued thee. The ireful Bastard Orleance, that drew blood From thee, my boy, and had the maidenhood Of thy first fight, I soon encounterèd, And, interchanging blows, I quickly shed 20 Some of his bastard blood, and in disgrace Bespoke him thus: “Contaminated, base, And misbegotten blood I spill of thine, Mean and right poor, for that pure blood of mine Which thou didst force from Talbot, my brave boy.” 25 Here, purposing the Bastard to destroy, Came in strong rescue. Speak, thy father’s care: Art thou not weary, John? How dost thou fare? Wilt thou yet leave the battle, boy, and fly, Now thou art sealed the son of chivalry? 30 Fly, to revenge my death when I am dead; The help of one stands me in little stead. O, too much folly is it, well I wot, To hazard all our lives in one small boat. If I today die not with Frenchmen’s rage, 35 Tomorrow I shall die with mickle age. By me they nothing gain, and, if I stay, ’Tis but the short’ning of my life one day. In thee thy mother dies, our household’s name, My death’s revenge, thy youth, and England’s fame. 40 All these and more we hazard by thy stay; All these are saved if thou wilt fly away.
JOHN TALBOT The sword of Orleance hath not made me smart; These words of yours draw lifeblood from my heart. On that advantage, bought with such a shame, 45 To save a paltry life and slay bright fame, Before young Talbot from old Talbot fly, The coward horse that bears me fall and die! And like me to the peasant boys of France, To be shame’s scorn and subject of mischance! 50 Surely, by all the glory you have won, An if I fly, I am not Talbot’s son. Then talk no more of flight, it is no boot; If son to Talbot, die at Talbot’s foot.	JOHN TALBOT The sword of Orleance hath not made me smart; These words of yours draw lifeblood from my heart. On that advantage, bought with such a shame, 45 To save a paltry life and slay bright fame, Before young Talbot from old Talbot fly, The coward horse that bears me fall and die! And like me to the peasant boys of France, To be shame’s scorn and subject of mischance! 50 Surely, by all the glory you have won, An if I fly, I am not Talbot’s son. Then talk no more of flight, it is no boot; If son to Talbot, die at Talbot’s foot.
TALBOT Then follow thou thy desp’rate sire of Crete, 55 Thou Icarus; thy life to me is sweet. If thou wilt fight, fight by thy father’s side, And commendable proved, let’s die in pride.	TALBOT Then follow thou thy desp’rate sire of Crete, 55 Thou Icarus; thy life to me is sweet. If thou wilt fight, fight by thy father’s side, And commendable proved, let’s die in pride.
They exit.	They exit.