Heaven Knows, Mr. Allison (1957)
Cpl. Allison, USMC: I, uh... I've never loved anyone or anybody before... I've never even *lived* before. Never really... lived... inside. That's why I want to ask you to marry me. I want to look after you... not only while we're here but for the rest of our lives. So, tell me, ma'am, if there's a chance.
Cpl. Allison, USMC: I don't mean to give offense. ma'am, but... is there?
Sister Angela: No, Mr. Allison. You see, I've already given my heart... to Jesus Christ, our Lord.
Cpl. Allison, USMC: Like you was engaged or somethin'?
Sister Angela: Yes.
[shows him her left hand]
Sister Angela: This is the ring, and when I take my final vows, I'll wear a gold one: a marriage ring.
Cpl. Allison, USMC: Oh, I didn't know it was set up like that. I guess I didn't have no right to speak.
[slaps the box beside him, stands up]
Cpl. Allison, USMC: Well, I guess I'll go fix that lean-to for ya!
Sister Angela: Only God knows what'll happen to us.
Cpl. Allison, USMC: And He won't tell, huh, ma'am?
Sister Angela: He might.
Cpl. Allison, USMC: You don't have to be afraid of me, ma'am. That was just drunk talk. I'd never hurt you! I'd rather *die* first!
Cpl. Allison, USMC: [Sister Angela walks up next to Allison as he stares at the waves on the shoreline; beat] Hello, Ma'am.
Sister Angela: Good morning, Mr. Allison.
Cpl. Allison, USMC: I must've been off my rocker last night. A marine oughtn't to get married. His duties are with the family or the corps. One of 'em's gotta get the short end. In the service, they'd ask us, 'what's better? A bad husband, or a bad marine. Well, he ends up *both*. Do me a favor, huh, ma'am? Just... just forget I opened my big mouth.
Sister Angela: [walking away] ... certainly, Mr. Allison.
[He continues to stare out at the waves]
Cpl. Allison, USMC: Shh! Of course I am, ma'am alive and kickin'. Now, didn't I tell you never to leave this cave?
[wagging his finger at her]
Cpl. Allison, USMC: I am very put out with you...
[she starts to argue]
Cpl. Allison, USMC: yes, I am! *Put out!*
Marine: I don't get it, Cap'n. Four howitzers, plenty of ammo, no breechblocks. They haven't fired a round.
Marine Captain: Beats me.
Sister Angela: [Mr. Allison has been drinking sake and is quite drunk] Mr. Allison... what is the matter?
Cpl. Allison, USMC: [barely able to talk] Matter? Nothin's the matter. What makes ya think somethin's the matter?
[Drinks some more]
Cpl. Allison, USMC: Whatcha gotta be a nun for?
Cpl. Allison, USMC: That's my luck. That's ol' Allison's luck. If ya gotta be a nun, why ain't ya old and ugly? Why do ya gotta have big blue eyes... and a beautiful smile...
[mumbles into his bottle]
Cpl. Allison, USMC: ... and freckles?
Cpl. Allison, USMC: Let's just keep it quiet, ma'am. You speak English?
Sister Angela: Yes.
Cpl. Allison, USMC: Are there any Japs around?
Sister Angela: You're... You're an American.