The Unknown; A Play in Three Acts

by W. Somerset Maugham

Now, Sylvia, don’t be idiotic. It would be so unseemly if I had to drag you to the altar by the hair of your head.

Sylvia.

You’re very kind, John. I suppose it wouldn’t be very good form to back out of it now. I’m poor, and I’ve wasted my best years waiting for you. You needn’t worry about what is going to happen to me. I can earn my living as well as other women.

John.

Oh, Sylvia, you’re torturing yourself and me. Can’t you forget what I said in a moment of exasperation? You must know how deep my affection is for you.

Sylvia.

I don’t want to forget. It is the will of God. I lied. I did an abominable and evil thing. I don’t think you can imagine how terrible my sin has been. I risked my soul to save you, John, and God has inflicted on me a punishment infinitely less than I deserved. He has taken out of your heart the love you bore me.

John.

But you love me, Sylvia.

Sylvia.