has a genius for defending market gardens. Among market gardens he is invincible. But what is the good of that? The world does not consist of market gardens. Turn him loose in pasture and he is lost. The Inca has defeated all these generals again and again at manoeuvres; and yet he has to give place to them in the field because he would be blamed for every disaster—accused of sacrificing the country to his vanity. Vanity! Why do they call him vain? Just because he is one of the few men who are not afraid to live. Why do they call themselves brave? Because they have not sense enough to be afraid to die. Within the last year the world has produced millions of heroes. Has it produced more than one Inca? [He resumes his seat.]
ERMYNTRUDE. Fortunately not, Captain. I'd rather marry Chips.
THE INCA.[making a wry face]. Chips! Oh no: I wouldn't marry Chips.
ERMYNTRUDE. Why?
THE INCA.[whispering the secret]. Chips talks too much about himself.
ERMYNTRUDE. Well, what about Snooks?
THE INCA. Snooks? Who is he? Have I a son named Snooks? There are so many—[wearily] so many—that I often forget. [Casually.] But I wouldn't marry him, anyhow, if I were you.
ERMYNTRUDE. But hasn't any of them inherited the family genius? Surely, if Providence has entrusted them with the care of Perusalem—if they are all descended from Bedrock the Great—
THE INCA.[interrupting her impatiently]. Madam, if you ask me, I consider Bedrock a grossly overrated monarch.
ERMYNTRUDE.[shocked]. Oh, Captain! Take care! Incadisparagement.
