ALGERNON. My letters! But, my own sweet Cecily, I have never written you any letters.
CECILY. You need hardly remind me of that, Ernest. I remember only too well that I was forced to write your letters for you. I wrote always three times a week, and sometimes oftener.
ALGERNON. Oh, do let me read them, Cecily?
CECILY. Oh, I couldn’t possibly. They would make you far too conceited. [Replaces box.] The three you wrote me after I had broken off the engagement are so beautiful, and so badly spelled, that even now I can hardly read them without crying a little.
ALGERNON. But was our engagement ever broken off?
CECILY. Of course it was. On the 22nd of last March. You can see the entry if you like. [Shows diary.] ‘To-day I broke off my engagement with Ernest. I feel it is better to do so. The weather still continues charming.’
ALGERNON. But why on earth did you break it off? What had I done? I had done nothing at all. Cecily, I am very much hurt indeed to hear you broke it off. Particularly when the weather was so charming.
CECILY. It would hardly have been a really serious engagement if it hadn’t been broken off at least once. But I forgave you before the week was out.
ALGERNON. [Crossing to her, and kneeling.] What a perfect angel you are, Cecily.
CECILY. You dear romantic boy. [He kisses her, she puts her fingers through his hair.] I hope your hair curls naturally, does it?
ALGERNON. Yes, darling, with a little help from others.
ALGERNON. You’ll never break off our engagement again, Cecily?
CECILY. I don’t think I could break it off now that I have actually met you. Besides, of course, there is the question of your name.
CECILY. You must not laugh at me, darling, but it had always been a girlish dream of mine to love some one whose name was Ernest. [Algernon rises, Cecily also.] There is something in that name that seems to inspire absolute confidence. I pity any poor married woman whose husband is not called Ernest.
ALGERNON. But, my dear child, do you mean to say you could not love me if I had some other name?
ALGERNON. Oh, any name you like—Algernon—for instance . . .
CECILY. But I don’t like the name of Algernon.
ALGERNON. Well, my own dear, sweet, loving little darling, I really can’t see why you should object to the name of Algernon. It is not at all a bad name. In fact, it is rather an aristocratic name. Half of the chaps who get into the Bankruptcy Court are called Algernon. But seriously, Cecily . . . [Moving to her] . . . if my name was Algy, couldn’t you love me?