JACK. You know what I have got to say to you. GWENDOLEN. Yes, but you don’t say it. JACK. Gwendolen, will you marry me? [Goes on his knees.] GWENDOLEN. Of course I will, darling. How long you have been about it! I am afraid you have had very little experience in how to propose. JACK. My own one, I have never loved any one in the world but you. GWENDOLEN. Yes, but men often propose for practice. I know my brother Gerald does. All my girl-friends tell me so. What wonderfully blue eyes you have, Ernest! They are quite, quite, blue. I hope you will always look at me just like that, especially when there are other people present. [Enter Lady Bracknell.] LADY BRACKNELL. Mr. Worthing! Rise, sir, from this semi-recumbent posture. It is most indecorous. GWENDOLEN. Mamma! [He tries to rise; she restrains him.] I must beg you to retire. This is no place for you. Besides, Mr. Worthing has not quite finished yet. LADY BRACKNELL. Finished what, may I ask? GWENDOLEN. I am engaged to Mr. Worthing, mamma. [They rise together.] LADY BRACKNELL. Pardon me, you are not engaged to any one. When you do become engaged to some one, I, or your father, should his health permit him, will inform you of the fact. An engagement should come on a young girl as a surprise, pleasant or unpleasant, as the case may be. It is hardly a matter that she could be allowed to arrange for herself . . . And now I have a few questions to put to you, Mr. Worthing. While I am making these inquiries, you, Gwendolen, will wait for me below in the carriage. GWENDOLEN. [Reproachfully.] Mamma! LADY BRACKNELL. In the carriage, Gwendolen! [Gwendolen goes to the door. She and Jack blow kisses to each other behind Lady Bracknell’s back. Lady Bracknell looks vaguely about as if she could not understand what the noise was. Finally turns round.] Gwendolen, the carriage! GWENDOLEN. Yes, mamma. [Goes out, looking back at Jack.] LADY BRACKNELL. [Sitting down.] You can take a seat, Mr. Worthing. [Looks in her pocket for note-book and pencil.] JACK. Thank you, Lady Bracknell, I prefer standing. LADY BRACKNELL. [Pencil and note-book in hand.] I feel bound to tell you that you are not down on my list of eligible young men, although I have the same list as the dear Duchess of Bolton has. We work together, in fact. However, I am quite ready to enter your name, should your answers be what a really affectionate mother requires. Do you smoke? JACK. Well, yes, I must admit I smoke. LADY BRACKNELL. I am glad to hear it. A man should always have an occupation of some kind. There are far too many idle men in London as it is. How old are you? JACK. Twenty-nine. LADY BRACKNELL. A very good age to be married at. I have always been of opinion that a man who desires to get married should know either everything or nothing. Which do you know? JACK. [After some hesitation.] I know nothing, Lady Bracknell.