MRS WARREN: （piteously) Oh, my darling, how can you be so hard on me？ Have I no rights ove

MRS WARREN: (piteously) Oh, my darling, how can you be so hard on me？ Have I no rights over you as your mother？ VIVIE: Are you my mother？ MRS WARREN; (appalled) Am I your mother! Oh, Vivie! VIVIE : Then where are our relatives？ my father？ our family friends？ You claim the rights of a mother ; the right to call me fool and child; to speak to me as no woman in authority over me at college dare speak to me; to dictate my way of life; and to force on me the acquaintance of a brute whom anyone can see to be the most vicious sort of London man about town. Before I give myself the trouble to resist such claims, I may as well find out whether they have any real existence. MRS WARREN: (distracted, throwing herself on her knees) Oh no, no. Stop, stop. I am your mother; I swear it. Oh , you can t mean to turn on me—my own child \ it s not natural. You believe me, don t you？ Say you believe me. VIVIE : Who was my father？ MRS WARREN: You don t know what you re asking. I can t tell you. VIVIE: (determinedly) Oh yes you can, if you like. I have a right to know; and you know very well that I have that right. You can refuse to tell me, if you please, but if you do, will see the last of me tomorrow morning. MRS WARREN: Oh, it s too horrible to hear you talk like that. You wouldnt—you couldnt leave me. VIVIE: (ruthlessly) Yes, without a moment s hesitation, if you trifle with me about this. (Shivering with disgust) How can I feel sure that I may not have the contaminated blood of that brutal waster in my veins？ MRS WARREN: No, no. On my oath it s not he, nor any of the rest that you have ever met. I m certain of that, at least. Vivie s eyes fasten sternly on her mother as the significance of this flashes on her. Questions:

Identify the author and the title of the play.