"
MIRABELL: "Have you any more conditions to offer? Hitherto your
demands are pretty reasonable."
MILLAMANT: "Trifles!--as liberty to pay and receive visits to and
from whom I please; to write and receive letters, without
interrogatories or wry faces on your part; to wear what I please;
and choose conversation with regard only to my own taste; to have no
obligation upon me to converse with wits that I don't like because
they are your acquaintances; or to be intimate with fools because
they may be your relatives.... These articles subscribed, if I
continue to endure you a little longer, I may by degrees dwindle
into a wife."
This is very pretty prose, granted; but it is the prose of literature,
not of life.]
[Footnote 2: From the fact that I do not make an exception in favour of
_The Blot in the Scutcheon_ or _Stratford_, I must leave the reader to
draw what inference he pleases. On the other hand, I believe that a
reconstruction of Tennyson's _Queen Mary_, with a few connecting links
written in, might take a permanent place in the theatre.
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