Arden: 
             I suppose that I am bound
        (If I could see for what I should be glad!)
        To thank you, sir.

Homeware: 
             Look hard but give no thanks. 
        I found my girl descending on the road
        Of breakneck coquetry, and barred her way. 
        Either she leaps the bar, or she must back. 
        That means she marries you, or says good-bye. 
                    (Going again.)

Arden: 
        Now she’s among them. (Looking at window.)

Homeware: 
        Now she sees her mind.

Arden: 
        It is my destiny she now decides!

Homeware: 
        There’s now suspense on earth and round the spheres.

Arden: 
        She’s mine now:  mine! or I am doomed to go.

Homeware: 
        The marriage ring, or the portmanteau now!

Arden: 
        Laugh as you like, air!  I am not ashamed
        To love and own it.

Homeware: 
        So the symptoms show. 
        Rightly, young man, and proving a good breed. 
        To further it’s a duty to mankind
        And I have lent my push, But recollect: 
        Old Ilion was not conquered in a day. 
                  (He enters house.)

Arden: 
        Ten years!  If I may win her at the end!

Curtain

Etext editor’s bookmarks: 

A great oration may be a sedative
A male devotee is within an inch of a miracle
Above Nature, I tell him, or, we shall be very much below
As in all great oratory!  The key of it is the pathos
Back from the altar to discover that she has chained herself
Cupid clipped of wing is a destructive parasite
Excess of a merit is a capital offence in morality
His idea of marriage is, the taking of the woman into custody
I am a discordant instrument I do not readily vibrate
I like him, I like him, of course, but I want to breathe
I who respect the state of marriage by refusing
Love and war have been compared—­Both require strategy
Peace, I do pray, for the husband-haunted wife
Period of his life a man becomes too voraciously constant
Pitiful conceit in men
Rejoicing they have in their common agreement
Self-worship, which is often self-distrust
Suspects all young men and most young women
Their idol pitched before them on the floor
Were I chained, For liberty I would sell liberty
Woman descending from her ideal to the gross reality of man
Your devotion craves an enormous exchange

MISCELLANEOUS PROSE

CONTENTS:  INTRODUCTION TO W. M. THACKERAY’S “THE FOUR GEORGES” A PAUSE IN THE STRIFE.  CONCESSION TO THE CELT.  LESLIE STEPHEN.  CORRESPONDENCE FROM THE SEAT OF WAR IN ITALY LETTERS WRITTEN TO THE ‘MORNING POST’ FROM THE SEAT OF WAR IN ITALY.