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 the 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 twentyeight; 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.

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.