Clara monologue (Act 2) — Woodbarrow Farm: Play in Three Acts

Hadn’t you better make sure, Allen? (_Laughing._) What do you know of my past--of even my present--of whence I came--what I am? (_Laughs._) Suppose, Allen, suppose I were only an adventuress. (_Takes a step._) A woman with the blood of sharpers and thieves in her veins--whose nursery was the gambling house--whose school was the Café and the Boulevards--a woman who earned her daily bread by shamelessness and cunning--a woman whose past would ever follow like a shadow the footsteps of her life--whose future must ever be a darker shadow still. Ah, Allen, take care. Cupid ties a bandage over men’s eyes. Hymen, when it is too late, plucks it off. Hadn’t you better lift a corner off the handkerchief, Allen, while we are yet upon the step without, lest beside your hearth, when the door has shut us in, you cast it loose, to find I am a stain upon your name--a shadow in your home--a blight upon your life? (_Laughing._) Allen, take care--take care. (_Crosses to l. Allen moves up a trifle._)