JOHN TALBOT (struggling with BUTLER and DRISCOLL). A black curse on you!
BUTLER. We'll not be butchered like oxen in the shambles!
JOHN TALBOT. Your oaths!
BUTLER. We'll not fight longer to be knocked on the head at the last.
NEWCOMBE. No! No! Not that! Out with the flag, Dick!
FENTON. A light here at the grating!
(NEWCOMBE turns to take a candle, obedient to FENTON'S order. At that moment, close at hand, a bugle sounds.)
JOHN TALBOT. Hark!
DRISCOLL. The bugle! They're upon us!
BUTLER (releasing his hold on JOHN TALBOT). What was that?