Sir Henry at Rawlinson End (1980)
Mrs E: Yes?
Sir Henry: I don't know what I want, but I want it now!
Mrs E: Fried or fried, dear?
Sir Henry: Now!
Mrs E: Fried?
Sir Henry: I want my meat burned like Saint Joan.
Sir Henry: Generally speaking, if I've eaten something I don't want to see it again.
Sir Henry: If I had all the money I'd spent on drink, I'd spend it on drink.
Sir Henry: If a thing is worth doing, it is worth forcing someone else to do it.
Florrie: [playing cards] My dear Henry, if dirty fingers were trumps, what a splendid hand you'd have.
Narrator: Dawn-tripping foul-mouthed through the severed limbs and snoozing boozers, Old Scrotum, the wrinkled retainer, staggers for a hair of the dog that last night bit him and to wash away the taste of Mrs. E., while the one-time prisoners awoke, free and fresh, dropping their shackles like an orchestra of falling teeth.