Isn't it! The only great distances it contains are those we carry within ourselves--the distances that separate husbands and wives, for instance. And so it'll be with us. You'll do your best--oh, I know that--you're a good fellow. But circumstances will be too strong for you in the end, mark my words. (AUBREY.: Paula----!) Of course I'm pretty now--I'm pretty still--and a pretty woman, whatever else she may be, is always--well, endurable. But even now I notice that the lines of my face are getting deeper; so are the hollows about my eyes. Yes, my face is covered with little shadows that usen't to be there. Oh, I know I'm "going off." I hate paint and dye and those messes, but, by-and-by, I shall drift the way of the others; I sha'n't he able to help myself. And then, some day--perhaps very suddenly, under a queer, fantastic light at night or in the glare of the morning--that horrid, irresistible truth that physical repulsion forces on men and women will come to you, and you'll sicken at me. (AUBREY.: I----!) You'll see me then, at last, with other people's eyes; you'll see me just as your daughter does now, as all wholesome folks see women like me. And I shall have no weapon to fight with--not one serviceable little bit of prettiness left me to defend myself with! A worn-out creature--broken up, very likely, some time before I ought to be--my hair bright, my eyes dull, my body too thin or too stout, my cheeks raddled and ruddled--a ghost, a wreck, a caricature, a candle that gutters, call such an end what you like! Oh, Aubrey, what shall I be able to say to you then? And this is the future you talk about! I know it--I know it! (He is still sitting staring forward; she rocks herself to and fro as if in pain.) Oh, Aubrey! Oh! Oh!

Paula Monologue from The Second Mrs. Tanqueray

Rehearse Paula's monologue