"That there was a big battle fought somewhere in which there were many killed and wounded, perhaps."
"Now in a few words you tell the whole story, and you tell it well and without illustrations or diagrams, and without any unnecessary frills by the way of editorials. So will we give the fight to a finish on Bosworth Field without any pictorial work. We'll just give it."
"'Tis your idea, then, to give the act simply with the combat without explanation?"
"Not exactly in the way you put it."
"Say, Handy, an idea strikes me. What do you say to the suggestion of doing the combat scene with two-ounce gloves. A great scheme, eh? Don't you think so? 'Twould be modernizing the piece and bring it down to date."
"Shades of Shakespeare, angels and ministers of graces defend us! Smith, Smith, my boy, don't talk tommy-rot! Gloves instead of swords! Go to. Don't you know, my friend, that a glove fight might leave Richmond open to a challenge from some ambitious and undeveloped Gotown pugilist, and then where would we be—I mean you? Oh, no! But I tell you what wouldn't be altogether out of place."
"Well, let us hear it."
"We might be able to impress some young limb of the law, in the shape of a lawyer, into the service, who no doubt might, after a brief study of Professor John Phinn's vocabulary of Shakespeare, be willing to go on and tell who Richard and Richmond were in their day, and how Richard got the stuffin' knocked out of him because he was crooked and a tyrant and a monopolist. And, moreover, as all lawyers like to show off in the spouting line, when they get the chance, he might say a good word or two for the immortal Bard of Avon. Not that Shakespeare wants it, but merely as an evidence of good faith."
"Bully! The more I see of you, Handy, the more convinced I am of your remarkable genius."
"Oh, that's all right, Smith. Now, then, let me ask you. Can Daisey De Vere"—the only woman remaining of the company—"sing and dance?"