(suavely).
One of my crack-brained fancies. I wished to keep you, sirs, for twenty
minutes.

PENROSE
(insulted).
Even a crack-brained lout may go too far.

MARSH.
Have at him! He's but one----

RICHARD
(clearly and passionately, his voice a-thrill).
Behind me are a hundred--a thousand souls--all those who stand for
freedom. Although you do not see them, they are there!

PENROSE
(astounded).
What! Would he challenge us?

MARSH
(scornfully).
A turn of the wrist and the thing is done. Have at him, Penrose.

[Penrose and Richard engage. Richard fights coolly, with his back ever
to the door. Penrose grows more and more flustered. Marsh holds an iron
candelabrum aloft, for the other candles have gutted and the room is
shadowy.

PENROSE