Hornblower: And that too, Dr Clive, is your medical
(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 Hobbs: I heard there was some sort of argument going
Enter Bush: I thought I might find you here
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
where are my true men?