HENRY V.--My Lords! my Lords! What do you with your swords? I mean, what mean you by this strange demeanour Which (had you swords and knew you how to use them) Might ... I forget what I was going to say.... Oh! Yes----Is this the time for peers to quarrel, When all the air is thick with Agincourt And every other night is Crispin’s day? The very supers bellow up and down, Armed of rude cardboard and wide blades of tin For England and St. George! RICHARD YEA AND NAY-- You talk too much. Think more. Revise. Avoid the commonplace; And when you lack a startling word, invent it. [_Their quarrel is stopped by_ THOMAS JEFFERSON _rising to propose the toast of “The Anglo-Saxon Race.”_] JEFFERSON--If I were asked what was the noblest message Delivered to the twentieth century, I should reply-- (_Etc., etc. While he maunders on_ ANTONY, CLEOPATRA, _and_ CÆSAR _begin talking rather loud_) CLEOPATRA--Waiter! I want a little crème de menthe. (_The waiter pays no attention._) ANTONY--Waiter! A glass of curaçao and brandy. (_Waiter still looks at Jefferson._) CÆSAR--That is the worst of these contracted dinners. They give you quite a feed for 3_s._ 6_d._ And have a splendid Band. I like the Band, It stuns the soul.... But when you call the waiter He only sneers and looks the other way. CLEOPATRA (_makes a moue_). CÆSAR (_archly_)--Was _that_ the face that launched a thousand ships And sacked.... ANTONY (_angrily_)--Oh! Egypt! Egypt! Egypt! THOMAS JEFFERSON (_ending, interrupts the quarrel_). ... blessings Of order, cleanliness, and business methods. The base of Empire is a living wage. One King ... (_applause_) ... (_applause_) ... (_applause_) shall always wave ... (_applause_) ... (_loud applause_) ... (_applause_) THE REIGN OF LAW! (_Thunders of applause_) NAPOLEON (_rising to reply_)--I am myself a strong Imperialist. A _brochure_, very recently compiled (Which, pardon me, I do not mean to read), Neglects the point, I think; the Anglo-Saxon ... (&c. &c.) GEORGE III. (_to Burke_)--Who’s that? Eh, what? Who’s that? Who ever’s that? BURKE--Dread sire! It is the Corsican Vampire. GEORGE III.--Napoleon? What? I thought that he was leaner. I thought that he was leaner. What? What? What? NAPOLEON (_sitting down_) ... such dispositions! Order! _Tête d’Armée!_ (_Slight applause_)