Shameful?

RICHARD. Yes, shameful. When they say it they avoid each other’s eyes as if it were an indecency. When I plead that this armistice with France should be made into a permanent peace they look at me as if I were blaspheming. We waste men and money and material for generations on a futile struggle, and, when someone suggests that it would be sensible to stop the silly business, they talk about prestige, and are shocked and furious. It is like battering one’s head against a wall. They will not listen and they will not try to understand. They are savages. They would rather hack a man in pieces than—than teach him to make velvet like that. (_He picks up a fold of her dress._) Beautiful, isn’t it, Anne? (_The touch of of the cloth and the consciousness of her soothes him._) Oh, we could make England so rich and so beautiful. The silversmith sent me something this morning. Something I had ordered for you. You shall have it to-night.

ANNE. My darling. It will be a celebration of our victory. (_She indicates the door._) Yes, of course it will be a victory! You are not alone, you know. There is Michael de la Pole to back you. Your grandfather trusted him; surely they will trust him too?

RICHARD. They don’t trust each other; how will they trust Michael? They suspect him of lining his pockets. They can never forget that his father was a merchant.

ANNE. And there’s Robert. Surely Robert’s tongue is an asset to any party? (_Even in her anxiety a dimple shows._)

RICHARD. (_sulkily_). Robert just sits there and laughs.

ANNE. Laughs!

RICHARD. Oh, not openly, of course. But I know that he is laughing, and it makes me ten times more furious with the fools than I should otherwise be when I know that Robert is laughing at them and I am only able to rage.

ANNE. But you could learn to laugh too, Richard.

RICHARD. No, I can’t. I’ve tried.