JOHN TALBOT (_turning from the window_). 'Tis Hugh Talbot comes!
'Tis the Captain of the Gate!
BUTLER. With them? A prisoner?
JOHN TALBOT. No, no! No prisoner! He wears his sword.
(BUTLER _snatches up his piece and resumes watch._)
FENTON. Then he'll have made terms with them! Terms!
NEWCOMBE (_embracing_ DRISCOLL). Terms for us! Terms for us!
JOHN TALBOT. I told ye truth. He has come. Hugh Talbot has come.
(_Goes to door._)
HUGH TALBOT (_speaks outside_). Open! I come alone, and in peace.
Open unto me!
JOHN TALBOT. Who goes there?
HUGH TALBOT (_outside_). The Captain of the Gate!
(JOHN TALBOT _unbars the door, and bars it again upon the entrance
of_ HUGH TALBOT. _The latter comes slowly into the room. He is a
man in his late thirties, a tall, martial figure, clad in
much-worn velvet and leather, with sword at side. The five salute
him as he enters._)
HUGH TALBOT (_halts and for a moment surveys his followers_). Well,
lads?
(_The five stand trembling on the edge of a nervous break, unable
for the moment to speak._)