LORD GORING: Oh! Bother Tommy Trafford. Tommy is a silly little ass. I love you.

MABEL CHILTERN: I know. And I think you might have mentioned it before. I am sure I have given you heaps of opportunities.

LORD GORING: Mabel, do be serious. Please be serious.

MABEL CHILTERN: Ah! That is the sort of thing a man always says to a girl before he has been married to her. He never says it afterwards.

LORD GORING (taking hold of her hand): Mabel, I have told you that I love you. Can’t you love me a little in return?

MABEL CHILTERN: You silly Arthur! If you knew anything about…anything, which you don’t, you would know that I adore you. Every one in London knows it except you. It is a public scandal the way I adore you. I have been going about for the last six months telling the whole of society that I adore you. I wonder you consent to have anything to say to me. I have no character left at all. At least, I feel so happy that I am quite sure I have no character left at all.

LORD GORING (catches her in his arms and kisses her. Then there is a pause of bliss): Dear! Do you know I was awfully afraid of being refused!

MABEL CHILTERN (looking up at him): But you never have been refused yet by anybody, have you, Arthur? I can’t imagine any one refusing you.

LORD GORING (after kissing her again): Of course I’m not nearly good enough for you, Mabel.

MABEL CHILTERN (nestling close to him): I am so glad, darling. I was afraid you were.

LORD GORING (after some hesitation): And I’m…I’m a little over thirty.

MABEL CHILTERN: Dear, you look weeks younger than that.

LORD GORING (enthusiastically): How sweet of you to say so!…And it is only to fair to tell you frankly that I am fearfully extravagant.

MABEL CHILTERN: But so am I, Arthur. So we’re sure to agree. And now I must go and see Gertrude.

LORD GORING: Must you really? (Kisses her.)

MABEL CHILTERN: Yes.

LORD GORING: Then do tell her I want to talk to her particularly. I have been waiting here all the morning to see either her or Robert.

MABEL CHILTERN: Do you mean to say you didn’t come here expressly to propose to me?

LORD GORING (triumphantly): No; that was a flash of genius.

MABEL CHILTERN: Your first.

LORD GORING (with determination): My last.

MABEL CHILTERN: I am delighted to hear it. Now don’t stir. I’ll be back in five minutes. And don’t fall into any temptations while I am away.

LORD GORING: Dear Mabel, while you are away, there are none. It makes me horribly dependent on you.

Enter LADY CHILTERN.

LADY CHILTERN: Good-morning, dear! How pretty you are looking!

MABEL CHILTERN: How pale you are looking, Gertrude! It is most becoming!