come that now, when I was so close to you, your hearts did not tell you of my presence by thumping loudly in your bosoms? Was my mask in the way? You have not once, but a thousand times sworn that you would worship me just as much if you found me in a petticoat as if I were dressed in a royal robe. How often you have declared that you were not devoted to me on account of my beauty, fame, or wealth, but because of the purity of my mind and heart! How offended you were when I considered such talk vain flattery! I have proved now that it is really no more than that, and at the same time I have given you an answer to your vows. No, my gentlemen. For affection that depends upon the unblemished fairness of my complexion, or the symmetry of my form; for devotion that a few dark marks on my face, a few wrinkles on my forehead are capable of changing into indifference, contempt, dislike, disgust—for such love Maria Felicia Felsenburk will not be a slave to any man.’”
