FENTON (singing).
Fortune, my foe, why dost thou frown on me,
And will thy favors never greater be?
Wilt thou, I say, forever breed me pain,
And wilt thou not restore my joys again?
BUTLER (shifting DRISCOLL'S arm, none too tenderly). More to the light!
DRISCOLL (catching breath with pain). Ah! Softly, Myles!
JOHN TALBOT (leaning forward tensely). Ah!
FENTON. Jack! Jack Talbot! What is it that you see?
JOHN TALBOT (with the anger of a man whose nerves are strained almost beyond endurance). What should I see but Cromwell's watch-fires along the boreen? What else should I see, and the night as black as the mouth of hell? What else should I see, and a pest choke your throat with your fool's questions, Dick Fenton!
(Resumes his watch.)
FENTON (as who should say: "I thank you!"). God 'a' mercy—Captain Talbot!
(Resumes his singing.)