Monday, January 26, 2009
MAN. You never saw a cavalry charge, did you?
RAINA. How could I?
MAN. Ah, perhaps not--of course. Well, it's a funny sight. It's
like slinging a handful of peas against a window pane: first one
comes; then two or three close behind him; and then all the rest
in a lump.
RAINA (her eyes dilating as she raises her clasped hands
ecstatically). Yes, first one!--the bravest of the brave!
MAN (prosaically). Hm! you should see the poor devil pulling at
RAINA. Why should he pull at his horse?
MAN (impatient of so stupid a question). It's running away with
him, of course: do you suppose the fellow wants to get there
before the others and be killed? Then they all come. You can
tell the young ones by their wildness and their slashing. The
old ones come bunched up under the number one guard: they know
that they are mere projectiles, and that it's no use trying to
fight. The wounds are mostly broken knees, from the horses
[George Bernard Shaw]
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