The Atlantic Book of Modern Plays - LightNovelsOnl.com
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DRISCOLL. Give us the chance, sir, and we'll be holding Cashala, even against the devil himself!
FENTON. Aye, well said!
HUGH TALBOT. Sure,'tis a pa.s.sing good subst.i.tute for the devil sits yonder in Cromwell's tent.
NEWCOMBE (_with a shudder_). Cromwell!
HUGH TALBOT. Aye, he was slaying your brother at Drogheda, Kit, and a fine, gallant lad your brother was. And I'm thinking you're like him, Kit. Else I shouldn't be trusting you here at Cashala.
NEWCOMBE. I--I--Will they let us keep our swords?
HUGH TALBOT. Well, it's with yourselves it lies, whether you'll keep them or not.
FENTON. He means--we mean--on what terms, sir, do we surrender?
HUGH TALBOT. Surrender? Terms?
JOHN TALBOT. We thought, sir, from your coming under their white flag--perhaps you had made terms for us.
HUGH TALBOT. How could I make terms?
NEWCOMBE. Captain!
(_At a look from_ HUGH TALBOT _he becomes silent, fighting for self-control._)
HUGH TALBOT. How could I make terms that you would hear to?
Cashala Bridge is the gate of Connaught.
JOHN TALBOT. Yes.
HUGH TALBOT. Give Cromwell Cashala Bridge, and he'll be on the heels of our women and our little ones. At what price would ye be selling their safety?
DRISCOLL. Cromwell--when he takes us--when he takes us--
NEWCOMBE. He'll knock us on the head!
HUGH TALBOT. Yes. At the last. Your five lives against our people's safety. You'd not give up the bridge?
JOHN TALBOT. Five? Our five? But you--you are the sixth.
FENTON. You stay with us, Captain. And then we'll fight--you'll see how we shall fight.
HUGH TALBOT. I shall be seeing you fight, perhaps, but I cannot stay now at Cashala.
(_Rises._)
DRISCOLL. Ye won't be staying with us?
BUTLER (_laughing harshly_). Now, on my soul! Is this your faith, Hugh Talbot? One liar I've followed, Charles Stuart, the son of a liar, and now a second liar--
JOHN TALBOT (_catching BUTLER'S throat_). A plague choke you!
HUGH TALBOT (_stepping between_ JOHN TALBOT _and_ BUTLER). Ha' done, Jack! Ha' done! What more, Myles Butler?
BUTLER. Tell us whither you go, when you turn your back on us that shall die at Cashala--you that come walking under the rebel flag--that swore to bring us aid--and have not brought it! Tell us whither you go now!
HUGH TALBOT. Well, I'm a shade doubtful, Myles, my lad, though hopeful of the best.
BUTLER. 'Tis to Cromwell you go--you that have made your peace with him--that have sold us--
DRISCOLL. Captain! A' G.o.d's name, what is it that you're meaning?
HUGH TALBOT. I mean that you shall hold the Bridge of Cashala--whatever happen to you--whatever happen to me--
FENTON. To you? Captain Talbot!
HUGH TALBOT. I am going unto Cromwell--as you said, Myles. I gave my promise.
DRISCOLL. Your promise?
JOHN TALBOT. We--have been very blind. So--they made you prisoner?
HUGH TALBOT. Aye, Jack. When I tried to cut my way through to bring you aid. And they granted me this half hour on my parole to come unto you.
JOHN TALBOT. To come--
HUGH TALBOT. To counsel you to surrender. And I have given you counsel. Hold the bridge! Hold it! Whatever they do!
DRISCOLL. Captain! Captain Talbot! G.o.d of Heaven! If you go back--'tis killed you'll be among them!
HUGH TALBOT. A little sooner than you lads? Aye, true!
FENTON. They cannot! Even Cromwell--
HUGH TALBOT. Tut, tut, d.i.c.k! It's little ye know of Cromwell.
JOHN TALBOT. Then--you mean--
HUGH TALBOT. An you surrender Cashala, we may all six pa.s.s free.
An you hold Cashala, they will hang me, here before your eyes.
(DRISCOLL _gives a rattling cry._)
BUTLER. G.o.d forgive me!
HUGH TALBOT. You have your orders. Hold the bridge!
(_Turns to door._)
