ARMANDE: What?! “Single woman,” sister, is a noble title,
And you want to abandon it, to fling it gaily away
And get married?
Can such a vulgar plan have seized your brain?

HENRIETTE: Yes, sister.

ARMANDE: Ugh! That little “yes” is intolerable! Impossible to hear
Without a fit of heartburn.

HENRIETTE: What is it sister, about marriage in itself that makes you…

ARMANDE: Oh, my God, fie!

HENRIETTE: What?

ARMANDE: Yes, fie, I tell you!
Can’t you even begin to see how distasteful
Such a word is to the mind? How it wounds
The brain with images unbidden?
To what filthy sights it drags one’s thoughts?
Do you not shudder at it, sister? And can you set your heart
Upon the consequences of that word?

HENRIETTE: The consequences of that word, to my mind,
Would be a husband,