I shouldn’t like you if you grew bitter.

RICHARD. That is serious. You disapprove of me often—.

ANNE. No, I don’t.

RICHARD.—but if you began to dislike me—.

ANNE. What?

RICHARD. It would be the end of the world.

ANNE. I think the end of the world is a long way off. Now I must go or they will be coming to look for me. And you must go back. Richard, you and I have set our hearts on this peace. Because we both believe in it with all our souls we can make it come true. Perhaps, when I see you again, you will be able to tell me that they have been won over. Now, go.

RICHARD. Very well, I’ll go back. They will attend to me now that I have been in a rage. Perhaps I can get my uncle Gloucester to walk out in a rage, and then we shan’t have to put up with him at dinner.

ANNE. Oh, Richard, be serious.

RICHARD. That’s not fair. You tell me to take them lightly, and when I do you reprove me!

ANNE. You know what I mean. Don’t offend them unnecessarily.

RICHARD. Very well. I shall do my best. We shall have such a happy evening, Anne, when the uncles have all gone. Robert is sprouting a new poem. (_He moves to the door._)

ANNE. That will be lovely. (_Doubtfully_) I forgot to tell you that Henry is coming.

RICHARD. (_stopping_). Oh, my God! No, that is too much.