BURGOYNE.
(smoothly). Will 12 o’clock suit you, Mr. Anderson?
RICHARD.
I shall be at your disposal then, General.
BURGOYNE.
(rising). Nothing more to be said, gentlemen. (They all rise.)
JUDITH.
(rushing to the table). Oh, you are not going to murder a man like that, without a proper trial—without thinking of what you are doing—without— (She cannot find words.)
RICHARD.
Is this how you keep your promise?
JUDITH.
If I am not to speak, you must. Defend yourself: save yourself: tell them the truth.
RICHARD.
(worriedly). I have told them truth enough to hang me ten times over. If you say another word you will risk other lives; but you will not save mine.
BURGOYNE.
My good lady, our only desire is to save unpleasantness. What satisfaction would it give you to have a solemn fuss made, with my friend Swindon in a black cap and so forth? I am sure we are greatly indebted to the admirable tact and gentlemanly feeling shown by your husband.
JUDITH.
(throwing the words in his face). Oh, you are mad. Is it nothing to you what wicked thing you do if only you do it like a gentleman? Is it nothing to you whether you are a murderer or not, if only you murder in a red coat? (Desperately) You shall not hang him: that man is not my husband.
The officers look at one another, and whisper: some of the Germans asking their neighbors to explain what the woman has said. Burgoyne, who has been visibly shaken by Judith’s reproach, recovers himself promptly at this new development. Richard meanwhile raises his voice above the buzz.