Driscoll! Are you gone mad? Stand you back from that door!
(Thrusts DRISCOLL from the door.)
DRISCOLL (half delirious). Let me forth! The spring—'tis just below—there on the river-bank! Let me slip down to it—but a moment—and drink!
JOHN TALBOT. Cromwell's soldiers hold the spring.
DRISCOLL. I care not! Let me forth and drink! Let me forth!
JOHN TALBOT. 'T would be to your death.
BUTLER. And what will he get but his death if he stay here,
Captain Talbot?
DRISCOLL (struggling with JOHN TALBOT). I'm choked! I'm choked, I tell ye! Let me go, Jack Talbot! Let me go!
NEWCOMBE (still half-asleep, rises to his knees, with a terrible cry, and his groping hands upthrust to guard his head). God's pity! No! no! no!
DRISCOLL (shocked into sanity, staggers back, crossing himself).
God shield us!