"The bridge must straight go down; For since Janiculum is lost, naught else can save the town." And later: "...plainly and more plainly now through the gloom appears, Far to left and far to right, in broken gleams of dark-blue light..." which is the best part of the poem. And this bit, which is worth reproducing altogether: "Then out spoke brave Horatius, the Captain of the Gate: "To every man upon this earth, death cometh soon or late; And how can man die better than facing fearful odds, For the ashes of his fathers, and the temples of his Gods, And for the tender mother who dandled him to rest, And for the wife who nurses his baby at her breast, And for the holy maidens who feed the eternal flame, To save them from false Sextus, that wrought the deed of shame? Hew down the bridge, Sir Consul, with all the speed ye may! I, with two more to help me, will hold the foe in play. In yon strait path, a thousand may well be stopped by three: Now, who will stand on either hand and keep the bridge with me?" Who will stand, on either hand, and keep the bridge with me? Jefferson's voice falls flat; the ceiling closes completely, leaving the company in broken gleams of dark-blue light, and silence. There's a sudden crash; it's the drill. "We've stopped drilling," Ida says in the hush. "We've made it. Point Zero."
Zach calls over the PA for all "non-essential Oods" to be confined. On the exploration deck, Ida and the crew are preparing to go down the shaft. The Doctor is already wearing a spacesuit when he walks up. Ha! Zach stares at him: "Reporting as a volunteer for the expeditionary force," says the Doctor, and Zach shakes his head: "Doctor, this is breaking every single protocol. We don't even know who you are." But the Doctor points out that Zach trusts him -- they all trust him. And they do. "And you can't let Ida go down there on her own!" adds the Doctor. "I should be going down," protests Zach, but the Doctor shakes his head: "The Captain doesn't lead the mission. He stays here. In charge." Zach is bitter, helpless, overwhelmed: "Not much good at it, am I?" The Doctor just looks at him. As Zach calls out the final prep, walking away, Rose approaches the Doctor. They stand facing one another; the Doctor checks his vitals and laughs that he hasn't worn a spacesuit in ages. She demands of him a promise that he'll bring it back in one piece. He salutes -- "Yes sir!" -- and puts on his helmet. "It's funny," she says. "Because people back home think that space travel's gonna be all whizzing about and teleports and anti-gravity...But it's not, is it?" Her voice breaks slightly: "It's tough." The truth inside the wish. "I'll see you later," the Doctor says confidently, and she grins: "Not if I see you first." She pulls his head down, laughing, afraid, and plants a kiss on his helmet. It's sweet, and nice, and touching. But it's also goodbye, and they don't know that, but it's true. On the other side of Hell, we burn off what doesn't work; that doesn't mean you only have to do it once. Rose won't be seeing the Doctor again. Not like this.