[To Henry.] Where's your sense of shame?
OCEANA. You are taking the wrong line, Letitia. No such consideration
has a moment's weight with us.
LETITIA. [Catches her breath.] Since it seems that I am here at your
mercy, I ask to know your pleasure?
OCEANA. The reason that we have sent for you is that I might assure
myself upon two points . . . first, as to whether your husband still
loves you, and second, as to whether you still love him.
LETITIA. You doubt that I love him?
OCEANA. So far, Letitia, your actions have proceeded, not from love of
him, but from hatred of me.
LETITIA. Oh! And if I fail to measure up to your tests of love . . .
OCEANA. [Triumphantly.] Then he is mine!
LETITIA. And the fact that he is my husband . . .
OCEANA. Is nothing!
LETITIA. The fact that he vowed to keep faith with me . . .
OCEANA. Is nothing!
LETITIA. That I am dependent upon him for support . . .
OCEANA. You have money of your own, Letitia.
LETITIA. Do you suppose I am thinking about money! I mean his
protection.
OCEANA. A person who confesses to the need of protection has written
himself down an inferior. [A pause.] You see, Letitia, times have
changed; our ideas of marriage have charged. In the beginning a woman
was a man's economic dependent; now that the man has become ashamed of
that, he is made the woman's spiritual dependent. You play upon his
sense of chivalry, his sympathy, his pity; and you prey upon him, you
devour him alive.
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