Hornblower: And
that too, Dr Clive, is your medical opinion?
(Dr Clive takes a swing at Hornblower)
Enter Sergeant Whiting: Do we
fire, Sir?
Enter Kennedy: FIRE!
YOU MUST FIRE!
Enter Styles: He
wants to do what?!
Enter Buckland: Is he
dead?
Enter Bush: I
thought I might find you here
Enter Hobbs: I
heard there was some sort of argument going on
Enter Matthews: You
wanted to see me, Sir?
Enter Randall: In
times like this, it’s every man for himself
Enter Sawyer: So,
so, a little cabal, muttering together….out! OUT!
Exit Dr Clive: If
you’ll excuse me
Exit Kennedy: Just
take what I offer and say goodbye
Exit Buckland: We
must leave this place with all speed
Exit Bush: Run!
Run!
Exit Styles: Oh
Randall, get out of my way
Exit Randall: If
I stay here I’ll get a knife in me back
Exit Matthews: I’ve
been sent on a wild goose chase
Exit Hornblower: I
think a retreat may be more prudent
Exit Sergeant Whiting: If
you’re sure, Sir
Exit Hobbs: It’s
all over now…run boy! Run!
Exit
Wellard: I’m not your
whipping boy, now, Sir (switches light off and shuts the door behind him)
Sawyer: (Muttering in misery
in the dark) My men, where are my true men?