HUGH TALBOT. I'll not be far. You'll hold the bridge?
JOHN TALBOT. Aye, sir.
BUTLER. We've powder enough--you said it, sir,--laid there at the
stairhead, to blow the bridge to hell.
HUGH TALBOT. Aye, Myles, you've hit it!
(_Holds out his hand._)
BUTLER. Not yet, sir!
HUGH TALBOT. Hereafter, then. God speed you, lads!
JOHN TALBOT. Speed you, sir! (_All five stand at salute as_ HUGH
TALBOT _goes out. In the moment's silence upon his exit_, JOHN
TALBOT _bars the door and turns to his comrades._) You have--Hugh
Talbot's orders. Take your pieces! Driscoll! Newcombe!
(_Obediently the two join_ FENTON _at windows._) Butler!
BUTLER. Aye! We have Hugh Talbot's orders.
(_Points to powder-keg._)