A marriage has been arranged

Aline says:

See, I will give you confidence for confidence. This is, as you suggest, my

ninth season. Living in an absurd milieu where marriage with a wealthy man

is regarded as the one aim in life, I have, during the past few weeks, done all

that lay in my power to wring a proposal from you. Perhaps the knowledge

that other women were doing the same lent a little zest to the pursuit, which

otherwise would have been very dreary; for I confess that your personality

did not--especially appeal to me. Indeed, this room being

rhnrttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttthe Palace of Truth, I will admit that it was

only by thinking hard of your three millions that I have been able to conceal

the weariness I have felt in your society. And now will you marry me, Mr.

Crockstead? I have, of course, been debarred from the disreputable amours

on which you linger so fondly; but I loved a soldier cousin of mine, and would

have run away with him had my mother not packed me off in time. He went

to India, and I stayed here; but he is the only man I have loved or ever shall

love. Further, let me tell you I am twenty-eight; I have always been poor--I

hate poverty, and it has soured me no less than you. Dress is the thing in life

I care for most, vulgarity my chief abomination. And to be frank, I consider

you the most vulgar person I have ever met. Will you still marry me, Mr.

Crockstead?

Tartuffee

Mariane says:

Father, I beg you, in the name of Heaven

That knows my grief, and by whate'er can move you,

Relax a little your paternal rights,

And free my love from this obedience!

Oh, do not make me, by your harsh command,

Complain to Heaven you ever were my father;

Do not make wretched this poor life you gave me.

If, crossing that fond hope which I had formed,

You'll not permit me to belong to one

Whom I have dared to love, at least, I beg you

Upon my knees, oh, save me from the torment

Of being possessed by one whom I abhor!

And do not drive me to some desperate act

By exercising all your rights upon me.

ttttttttttttttttttttttttttttt

The importance of being Ernest

Gwendolyn says:

Ernest, we may never be married. From the expression on mamma's face I

fear we never shall. Few parents nowadays pay any regard to what their

children say to them. The old-fashioned respect for the young is fast dying

out. Whatever influence I ever hadover mamma, I lost at the age of three.

But although she may prevent us from becoming man and wife, and I may

marry some one else, and marry often, nothing that she can possibly do can

alter my eternal devotion to you. The story of your romantic origin, as

related to me by mamma, with unpleasing comments, has naturally stirred

the deeper fibres of my nature. Your Christian name has an irresistible

fascination. The simplicity of your character makes you exquisitely

incomprehensible to me

A matter of husbands

Famous Actress says:

There, dear, you mustn't apologize. You couldn't know, of course. It seems so

plausible. You fancy your husband in an atmosphere of perpetual temptation,

in a backstage world full of beautiful sirens without scruples or morals. One

actress, you suppose, is more dangerous than a hundred ordinary women.

You hate us and fear us. None understands that better than your husband,

who is evidently a very cunning lawyer. And so he plays on your fear and

jealousy to regain the love you deny him. He writes a letter and leaves it

behind him on the desk. Trust a lawyer never to do that unintentionally. He

orders flowers for me by telephone in the morning and probably cancels the

order the moment he reaches his office. By the way, hasn't he a lock of my

hair? Yes. They bribe my hair-dresser to steal from me. It is a wonder I have

any hair left at all.