George Bernard Shaw

“ If only you are not hurt, nothing else matters.
JUDITH. No, no, no: I'm not hurt.
ANDERSON. Thank Heaven for that! Come now: (leading her to the railed seat and making her sit down beside him) sit down and rest: you can tell me about it to-morrow. Or, (misunderstanding her distress) you shall not tell me at all if it worries you. There, there! (Cheerfully.) I'll make you some fresh tea: that will set you up again. (He goes to the table, and empties the teapot into the slop bowl.)
JUDITH (in a strained tone) . Tony.
ANDERSON. Yes, dear?
JUDITH. Do you think we are only in a dream now? ”

“ I know it. But—I suppose I'm not brave: that's all. My heart shrinks every time I think of the soldiers.
ANDERSON. Never mind that, dear: bravery is none the worse for costing a little pain.
JUDITH. Yes, I suppose so. (Embracing him again.) Oh how brave you are, my dear! (With tears in her eyes.) Well, I'll be brave too: you shan't be ashamed of your wife.
ANDERSON. That's right. Now you make me happy. Well, well! (He rises and goes cheerily to the fire to dry his shoes.) I called on Richard Dudgeon on my way back; but he wasn't in.
JUDITH (rising in consternation) . You called on that man! ”

“ After all, my dear, if you watch people carefully, you'll be surprised to find how like hate is to love. (She starts, strangely touched—even appalled. He is amused at her.) Yes: I'm quite in earnest. Think of how some of our married friends worry one another, tax one another, are jealous of one another, can't bear to let one another out of sight for a day, are more like jailers and slave-owners than lovers. ”

“ JUDITH. Yes, you did. You said that if anybody came in they would take us for man and— (she stops, terror-stricken, as a squad of soldiers tramps past the window) The English soldiers! Oh, what do they—
RICHARD (listening) . Sh!
A VOICE (outside) . Halt! Four outside: two in with me.
Judith half rises, listening and looking with dilated eyes at Richard, who takes up his cup prosaically, and is drinking his tea when the latch goes up with a sharp click, and an English sergeant walks into the room with two privates, who post themselves at the door. He comes promptly to the table between them. ”

“ He pounced on Peter Dudgeon as the worst character there; and it is the general belief that he will pounce on Richard as the worst here.
JUDITH. But Richard said—
ANDERSON (goodhumoredly cutting her short) . Pooh! Richard said! He said what he thought would frighten you and frighten me, my dear. He said what perhaps (God forgive him!) he would like to believe. It's a terrible thing to think of what death must mean for a man like that. I felt that I must warn him. ”

“ Anderson is a pleasanter person to live with than Mrs. Dudgeon. To which Mrs. Dudgeon would at once reply, with reason, that Mrs. Anderson has no children to look after; no poultry, pigs nor cattle; a steady and sufficient income not directly dependent on harvests and prices at fairs; an affectionate husband who is a tower of strength to her: in short, that life is as easy at the minister's house as it is hard at the farm. ”

“ ANDERSON. I think that a man's life is worth saving, whoever it belongs to. (Richard makes him an ironical bow. Anderson returns the bow humorously.) Come: you'll have a cup of tea, to prevent you catching cold?
RICHARD. I observe that Mrs. Anderson is not quite so pressing as you are, Pastor.
JUDITH (almost stifled with resentment, which she has been expecting her husband to share and express for her at every insult of Richard's) . You are welcome for my husband's sake. (She brings the teapot to the fireplace and sets it on the hob.) ”

“ in this world there is always danger for those who are afraid of it. ”

“ Only King George, my dear. He's returning to barracks, or having his roll called, or getting ready for tea, or booting or saddling or something. Soldiers don't ring the bell or call over the banisters when they want anything: they send a boy out with a bugle to disturb the whole town.
JUDITH. Do you think there is really any danger?
ANDERSON. Not the least in the world.
JUDITH. You say that to comfort me, not because you believe it.
ANDERSON. My dear: in this world there is always danger for those who are afraid of it. There's a danger that the house will catch fire in the night ”

“ ANDERSON (pressing her hand against his cheek) . You will not mind two old people like us, Mr. Dudgeon. (Going.) I shall not say good evening: you will be here when I come back. (He goes out.)
They watch him pass the window, and then look at each other dumbly, quite disconcerted. Richard, noting the quiver of her lips, is the first to pull himself together. RICHARD. Mrs. Anderson: I am perfectly aware of the nature of your sentiments towards me. I shall not intrude on you. Good evening. (Again he starts for the fireplace to get his coat.)
JUDITH (getting between him and the coat) . No, no. ”

“ A pretty feature of the room is the low wide latticed window, nearly its whole width, with little red curtains running on a rod half way up it to serve as a blind. There is no sofa; but one of the seats, standing near the press, has a railed back and is long enough to accommodate two people easily. ”

“ ANDERSON (going to her and patting her encouragingly on the shoulder) . All right, pet, all right. He won't eat you, whoever he is. (She tries to smile, and nearly makes herself cry. He goes to the door and opens it. Richard is there, without overcoat or cloak.) You might have raised the latch and come in, Mr. Dudgeon. Nobody stands on much ceremony with us. (Hospitably.) Come in. (Richard comes in carelessly and stands at the table, looking round the room with a slight pucker of his nose at the mezzotinted divine on the wall. Judith keeps her eyes on the tea caddy.) ”

“ You're better now, aren't you? (He puts his hand encouragingly on her shoulder. She instantly rises haughtily, and stares at him defiantly. He at once drops into his usual sardonic tone.) Ah, that's better. You are yourself again: so is Richard. Well, shall we go to tea like a quiet respectable couple, and wait for your husband's return?
JUDITH (rather ashamed of herself) . If you please. I—I am sorry to have been so foolish. (She stoops to take up the plate of toast from the fender.) ”

“ On the whole, it is rather the sort of room that the nineteenth century has ended in struggling to get back to under the leadership of Mr. Philip Webb and his disciples in domestic architecture, though no genteel clergyman would have tolerated it fifty years ago. ”