CECILY.
Yes, I felt it instinctively, but I couldn’t wait all that time. I hate waiting even five minutes for anybody. It always makes me rather cross. I am not punctual myself, I know, but I do like punctuality in others, and waiting, even to be married, is quite out of the question.
ALGERNON.
Then what is to be done, Cecily?
CECILY.
I don’t know, Mr. Moncrieff.
LADY BRACKNELL.
My dear Mr. Worthing, as Miss Cardew states positively that she cannot wait till she is thirty-five—a remark which I am bound to say seems to me to show a somewhat impatient nature—I would beg of you to reconsider your decision.
JACK.
But my dear Lady Bracknell, the matter is entirely in your own hands. The moment you consent to my marriage with Gwendolen, I will most gladly allow your nephew to form an alliance with my ward.
LADY BRACKNELL.
[Rising and drawing herself up.] You must be quite aware that what you propose is out of the question.
JACK.
Then a passionate celibacy is all that any of us can look forward to.
LADY BRACKNELL.
That is not the destiny I propose for Gwendolen. Algernon, of course, can choose for himself. [Pulls out her watch.] Come, dear, [Gwendolen rises] we have already missed five, if not six, trains. To miss any more might expose us to comment on the platform.
[Enter Dr. Chasuble.]
CHASUBLE.
Everything is quite ready for the christenings.