ests and
compliments). How CAN you?

RICHARD. You promised to be silent.

BURGOYNE (to Judith, with studied courtesy). Believe me, madam, your
husband is placing us under the greatest obligation by taking this very
disagreeable business so thoroughly in the spirit of a gentleman.
Sergeant: give Mr. Anderson a chair. (The sergeant does so. Richard
sits down.) Now, Major Swindon: we are waiting for you.

SWINDON. You are aware, I presume, Mr. Anderson, of your obligations as
a subject of His Majesty King George the Third.

RICHARD. I am aware, sir, that His Majesty King George the Third is
about to hang me because I object to Lord North's robbing me.

SWINDON. That is a treasonable speech, sir.

RICHARD (briefly). Yes. I meant it to be.

BURGOYNE (strongly deprecating this line of defence, but still polite).
Don't you think, Mr. Anderson, that this is rather--if you will excuse
the word--a vulgar line to take? Why should you cry out robbery because
of a stamp duty and a tea duty and so forth? After all, it is the
essence of your position as a gentleman that you pay with a good grace.

RICHARD. It is not the money, General. But to be swindled by a
pig-headed lunatic like King George.

SWINDON (scandalised). Chut, sir--silence!

SERGEANT (in stentorian tones, greatly shocked). Silence!

BURGOYNE (unruffled). Ah, that is another point of view. My position
does not allow of my going into that, except in private. But (shrugging
his shoulders) of course, Mr. Anderson, if you are determined to be
hanged (Judith flinches), there's nothing more to be said. An unusual
taste! however (with a final shrug)--!

SWINDON (to Burgoyne). Shall we call witnesses?

RICHARD. What need is there of witnesses? If the townspeople here had
listened to me, you would have found the streets barricaded, the houses
loopholed, and the people in arms to hold the town against you to the
last man. But you arrived, unfortunately, before we had got out of the
talking stage; and then it was too late.

SWINDON (severely). Well, sir, we shall teach you and your townspeople
a lesson they will not forget. Have you anything more to say?

RICHARD. I think you might have the decency to treat me as a prisoner
of war, and shoot me like a man instead of hanging me like a dog.

BURGOYNE (sympathetically). Now there, Mr. Anderson, you talk like a
civilian, if you will excuse my saying so. Have you any idea of the
average marksmanship of the army of His