AN IDEAL HUSBAND

A PLAY

by
OSCAR WILDE

methuen &co. ltd.
36 essex street w.c.
london

First Published,sensory bins for girls at 1s.net, in 1912

THE PERSONS OF THE PLAY

THE EARL OF CAVERSHAM, K.G.

VISCOUNT GORING, his Son

SIR ROBERT CHILTERN, Bart., Under-Secretary for ForeignAffairs

VICOMTE DE NANJAC, Attaché at the French Embassy inLondon

MR. MONTFORD

MASON, Butler to Sir Robert Chiltern

PHIPPS, Lord Goring’s Servant

JAMES }

HAROLD } Footmen

LADY CHILTERN

LADY MARKBY

THE COUNTESS OF BASILDON

MRS. MARCHMONT

MISS MABEL CHILTERN, Sir Robert Chiltern’s Sister

MRS. CHEVELEY

THE SCENES OF THE PLAY

Act I. The Octagon Room inSir Robert Chiltern’s House in Grosvenor Square.

Act II. Morning-room inSir Robert Chiltern’s House.

Act III. The Library ofLord Goring’s House in Curzon Street.

Act IV. Same as ActII.

Time: The Present

Place: London.

The action of the play iscompleted within twenty-four hours.

THEATRE ROYAL, HAYMARKET

Sole Lessee: Mr. HerbertBeerbohm Tree

Managers: Mr. LewisWaller and Mr. H. H. Morell

January3rd, 1895

FIRST ACT

SCENE

The octagon room at Sir Robert Chiltern’s house inGrosvenor Square.

[The room is brilliantly lighted and full ofguests. At the top of the staircase standslady chiltern, a woman of grave Greekbeauty, about twenty-seven years of age. Shereceives the guests as they come up. Over the wellof the staircase hangs a great chandelier with wax lights,which illumine a large eighteenth-century Frenchtapestry—representing the Triumph of Love, from adesign by Boucher—that is stretched on the staircasewall. On the right is the entrance to themusic-room. The sound of a string quartette isfaintly heard. The entrance on the left leads toother reception-rooms. mrs.marchmont andladybasildon, two very pretty women, are seatedtogether on a Louis Seize sofa. They are types ofexquisite fragility. Their affectation of manner hasa delicate charm. Watteau would have loved to paintthem.]

mrs. marchmont. Going on tothe Hartlocks’ to-night, Margaret?

lady basildon. I supposeso. Are you?

mrs. marchmont. Yes.Horribly tedious parties they give, don’t they?

lady basildon. Horriblytedious! Never know why I go. Never know why I goanywhere.

mrs. marchmont. I come hereto be educated.

lady basildon. Ah! I hatebeing educated!

mrs. marchmont. So doI. It puts one almost on a level with the commercialclasses, doesn’t it? But dear Gertrude Chiltern isalways telling me that I should have some serious purpose inlife. So I come here to try to find one.

lady basildon. [Lookinground through her lorgnette.] I don’t see anybodyhere to-night whom one could possibly call a seriouspurpose. The man who took me in to dinner talked to meabout his wife the whole time.

mrs. marchmont. How verytrivial of him!

lady basildon. Terriblytrivial! What did your man talk about?

mrs. marchmont. Aboutmyself.

lady basildon.[Languidly.] And were you interested?

mrs. marchmont. [Shakingher head.] Not in the smallest degree.

lady basildon. What martyrswe are, dear Margaret!

mrs. marchmont.[Rising.] And how well it becomes us, Olivia!

[They rise and go towards the music-room.Thevicomte de nanjac, ayoung attaché known for his neckties and hisAnglomania, approaches with a low bow, and entersinto conversation.]

mason. [Announcing guestsfrom the top of the staircase.] Mr. and Lady JaneBarford. Lord Caversham.

[Enterlord caversham, anold gentleman of seventy, wearing the riband and star ofthe Garter. A fine Whig type. Ratherlike a portrait by Lawrence.]

lord caversham. Good evening,Lady Chiltern! Has my good-for-nothing young son beenhere?

lady chiltern.[Smiling.] I don’t think Lord Goring hasarrived yet.

mabel chiltern. [Coming uptolord caversham.] Why doyou call Lord Goring good-for-nothing?

[mabel chiltern is a perfectexample of the English type of prettiness, theapple-blossom type. She has all the fragrance andfreedom of a flower. There is ripple after ripple ofsunlight in her hair, and the little mouth, withits parted lips, is expectant, like the mouth of achild. She has the fascinating tyranny of youth,and the astonishing courage of innocence. To sanepeople she is not reminiscent of any work of art.But she is really like a Tanagra statuette, and wouldbe rather annoyed if she were told so.]

lord caversham. Because heleads such an idle life.

mabel chiltern. How can yousay such a thing? Why, he rides in the Row at teno’clock in the morning, goes to the Opera three times aweek, changes his clothes at least five times a day, and dinesout every night of the season. You don’t call thatleading an idle life, do you?

lord caversham. [Lookingat her with a kindly twinkle in his eyes.] You are avery charming young lady!

mabel chiltern. How sweet ofyou to say that, Lord Caversham! Do come to us moreoften. You know we are always at home on Wednesdays, andyou look so well with your star!

lord caversham. Never goanywhere now. Sick of London Society. Shouldn’tmind being introduced to my own tailor; he always votes on theright side. But object strongly to being sent down todinner with my wife’s milliner. Never could standLady Caversham’s bonnets.

mabel chiltern. Oh, I loveLondon Society! I think it has immensely improved. Itis entirely composed now of beautiful idiots and brilliantlunatics. Just what Society should be.

lord caversham. Hum!Which is Goring? Beautiful idiot, or the other thing?

mabel chiltern.[Gravely.] I have been obliged for the present toput Lord Goring into a class quite by himself. But he isdeveloping charmingly!

lord caversham. Intowhat?

mabel chiltern. [With alittle curtsey.] I hope to let you know very soon, LordCaversham!

mason. [Announcingguests.] Lady Markby. Mrs. Cheveley.

[Enterlady markbyandmrs. cheveley. lady markby is a pleasant,kindly, popular woman, with gray hair àla marquise and good lace. mrs.cheveley, who accompanies her, is tall andrather slight. Lips very thin andhighly-coloured, a line of scarlet on a pallidface. Venetian red hair, aquiline nose,and long throat. Rouge accentuates the naturalpaleness of her complexion. Gray-green eyes thatmove restlessly. She is in heliotrope, withdiamonds. She looks rather like an orchid,and makes great demands on one’s curiosity.In all her movements she is extremely graceful. Awork of art, on the whole, but showing theinfluence of too many schools.]

lady markby. Good evening,dear Gertrude! So kind of you to let me bring my friend,Mrs. Cheveley. Two such charming women should know eachother!

lady chiltern. [Advancestowardsmrs. cheveley with asweet smile. Then suddenly stops, and bowsrather distantly.] I think Mrs. Cheveley and I have metbefore. I did not know she had married a second time.

lady markby.[Genially.] Ah, nowadays people marry as often asthey can, don’t they? It is most fashionable.[Toduchess ofmaryborough.] Dear Duchess, and how is theDuke? Brain still weak, I suppose? Well, that is onlyto be expected, is it not? His good father was just thesame. There is nothing like race, is there?

mrs. cheveley. [Playingwith her fan.] But have we really met before, LadyChiltern? I can’t remember where. I have beenout of England for so long.

lady chiltern. We were atschool together, Mrs. Cheveley.

mrs. cheveley[Superciliously.] Indeed? I have forgotten allabout my schooldays. I have a vague impression that theywere detestable.

lady chiltern.[Coldly.] I am not surprised!

mrs. cheveley. [In hersweetest manner.] Do you know, I am quite lookingforward to meeting your clever husband, Lady Chiltern.Since he has been at the Foreign Office, he has been so muchtalked of in Vienna. They actually succeed in spelling hisname right in the newspapers. That in itself is fame, onthe continent.

lady chiltern. I hardly thinkthere will be much in common between you and my husband, Mrs.Cheveley! [Moves away.]

vicomte de nanjac. Ah!chère Madame, quelle surprise! I have not seen yousince Berlin!

mrs. cheveley. Not sinceBerlin, Vicomte. Five years ago!

vicomte de nanjac. And youare younger and more beautiful than ever. How do you manageit?

mrs. cheveley. By making it arule only to talk to perfectly charming people like yourself.

vicomte de nanjac. Ah! youflatter me. You butter me, as they say here.

mrs. cheveley. Do they saythat here? How dreadful of them!

vicomte de nanjac. Yes, theyhave a wonderful language. It should be more widelyknown.

[sir robert chilternenters. A man of forty, but lookingsomewhat younger. Clean-shaven, withfinely-cut features, dark-haired and dark-eyed.A personality of mark. Not popular—fewpersonalities are. But intensely admired by thefew, and deeply respected by the many. Thenote of his manner is that of perfect distinction, with aslight touch of pride. One feels that he isconscious of the success he has made in life. Anervous temperament, with a tired look. Thefirmly-chiselled mouth and chin contrast strikingly with theromantic expression in the deep-set eyes. Thevariance is suggestive of an almost complete separation ofpassion and intellect, as though thought and emotion wereeach isolated in its own sphere through some violence ofwill-power. There is nervousness in thenostrils, and in the pale, thin, pointedhands. It would be inaccurate to call himpicturesque. Picturesqueness cannot survive theHouse of Commons. But Vandyck would have liked tohave painted his head.]

sir robert chiltern. Goodevening, Lady Markby! I hope you have brought Sir John withyou?

lady markby. Oh! I havebrought a much more charming person than Sir John. SirJohn’s temper since he has taken seriously to politics hasbecome quite unbearable. Really, now that the House ofCommons is trying to become useful, it does a great deal ofharm.

sir robert chiltern. I hopenot, Lady Markby. At any rate we do our best to waste thepublic time, don’t we? But who is this charmingperson you have been kind enough to bring to us?

lady markby. Her name is Mrs.Cheveley! One of the Dorsetshire Cheveleys, Isuppose. But I really don’t know. Families areso mixed nowadays. Indeed, as a rule, everybody turns outto be somebody else.

sir robert chiltern. Mrs.Cheveley? I seem to know the name.

lady markby. She has justarrived from Vienna.

sir robert chiltern. Ah!yes. I think I know whom you mean.

lady markby. Oh! she goeseverywhere there, and has such pleasant scandals about all herfriends. I really must go to Vienna next winter. Ihope there is a good chef at the Embassy.

sir robert chiltern. If thereis not, the Ambassador will certainly have to be recalled.Pray point out Mrs. Cheveley to me. I should like to seeher.

lady markby. Let me introduceyou. [Tomrs.cheveley.] My dear, Sir Robert Chiltern is dying toknow you!

sir robert chiltern.[Bowing.] Every one is dying to know the brilliantMrs. Cheveley. Our attachés at Vienna write to usabout nothing else.

mrs. cheveley. Thank you, SirRobert. An acquaintance that begins with a compliment issure to develop into a real friendship. It starts in theright manner. And I find that I know Lady Chilternalready.

sir robert chiltern.Really?

mrs. cheveley. Yes. Shehas just reminded me that we were at school together. Iremember it perfectly now. She always got the good conductprize. I have a distinct recollection of Lady Chilternalways getting the good conduct prize!

sir robert chiltern.[Smiling.] And what prizes did you get, Mrs.Cheveley?

mrs. cheveley. My prizes camea little later on in life. I don’t think any of themwere for good conduct. I forget!

sir robert chiltern. I amsure they were for something charming!

mrs. cheveley. I don’tknow that women are always rewarded for being charming. Ithink they are usually punished for it! Certainly, morewomen grow old nowadays through the faithfulness of theiradmirers than through anything else! At least that is theonly way I can account for the terribly haggard look of most ofyour pretty women in London!

sir robert chiltern. What anappalling philosophy that sounds! To attempt to classifyyou, Mrs. Cheveley, would be an impertinence. But may Iask, at heart, are you an optimist or a pessimist? Thoseseem to be the only two fashionable religions left to usnowadays.

mrs. cheveley. Oh, I’mneither. Optimism begins in a broad grin, and Pessimismends with blue spectacles. Besides, they are both of themmerely poses.

sir robert chiltern. Youprefer to be natural?

mrs. cheveley.Sometimes. But it is such a very difficult pose to keepup.

sir robert chiltern. Whatwould those modern psychological novelists, of whom we hear somuch, say to such a theory as that?

mrs. cheveley. Ah! thestrength of women comes from the fact that psychology cannotexplain us. Men can be analysed, women . . . merelyadored.

sir robert chiltern. Youthink science cannot grapple with the problem of women?

mrs. cheveley. Science cannever grapple with the irrational. That is why it has nofuture before it, in this world.

sir robert chiltern. Andwomen represent the irrational.

mrs. cheveley. Well-dressedwomen do.

sir robert chiltern. [Witha polite bow.] I fear I could hardly agree with youthere. But do sit down. And now tell me, what makesyou leave your brilliant Vienna for our gloomy London—orperhaps the question is indiscreet?

mrs. cheveley. Questions arenever indiscreet. Answers sometimes are.

sir robert chiltern. Well, atany rate, may I know if it is politics or pleasure?

mrs. cheveley. Politics aremy only pleasure. You see nowadays it is not fashionable toflirt till one is forty, or to be romantic till one isforty-five, so we poor women who are under thirty, or say we are,have nothing open to us but politics or philanthropy. Andphilanthropy seems to me to have become simply the refuge ofpeople who wish to annoy their fellow-creatures. I preferpolitics. I think they are more . . . becoming!

sir robert chiltern. Apolitical life is a noble career!

mrs. cheveley.Sometimes. And sometimes it is a clever game, SirRobert. And sometimes it is a great nuisance.

sir robert chiltern. Which doyou find it?

mrs. cheveley. I? Acombination of all three. [Drops her fan.]

sir robert chiltern.[Picks up fan.] Allow me!

mrs. cheveley. Thanks.

sir robert chiltern. But youhave not told me yet what makes you honour London sosuddenly. Our season is almost over.

mrs. cheveley. Oh! Idon’t care about the London season! It is toomatrimonial. People are either hunting for husbands, orhiding from them. I wanted to meet you. It is quitetrue. You know what a woman’s curiosity is.Almost as great as a man’s! I wanted immensely tomeet you, and . . . to ask you to do something for me.

sir robert chiltern. I hopeit is not a little thing, Mrs. Cheveley. I find that littlethings are so very difficult to do.

mrs. cheveley. [After amoment’s reflection.] No, I don’t think itis quite a little thing.

sir robert chiltern. I am soglad. Do tell me what it is.

mrs. cheveley. Lateron. [Rises.] And now may I walk through yourbeautiful house? I hear your pictures are charming.Poor Baron Arnheim—you remember the Baron?—used totell me you had some wonderful Corots.

sir robert chiltern. [Withan almost imperceptible start.] Did you know BaronArnheim well?

mrs. cheveley.[Smiling.] Intimately. Did you?

sir robert chiltern. At onetime.

mrs. cheveley. Wonderful man,wasn’t he?

sir robert chiltern.[After a pause.] He was very remarkable, in manyways.

mrs. cheveley. I often thinkit such a pity he never wrote his memoirs. They would havebeen most interesting.

sir robert chiltern. Yes: heknew men and cities well, like the old Greek.

mrs. cheveley. Without thedreadful disadvantage of having a Penelope waiting at home forhim.

mason. Lord Goring.

[Enterlord goring.Thirty-four, but always says he is younger.A well-bred, expressionless face. He isclever, but would not like to be thought so.A flawless dandy, he would be annoyed if he wereconsidered romantic. He plays with life, andis on perfectly good terms with the world. He isfond of being misunderstood. It gives him a post ofvantage.]

sir robert chiltern. Goodevening, my dear Arthur! Mrs. Cheveley, allow me tointroduce to you Lord Goring, the idlest man in London.

mrs. cheveley. I have metLord Goring before.

lord goring.[Bowing.] I did not think you would remember me,Mrs. Cheveley.

mrs. cheveley. My memory isunder admirable control. And are you still a bachelor?

lord goring. I . . . believeso.

mrs. cheveley. How veryromantic!

lord goring. Oh! I am not atall romantic. I am not old enough. I leave romance tomy seniors.

sir robert chiltern. LordGoring is the result of Boodle’s Club, Mrs. Cheveley.

mrs. cheveley. He reflectsevery credit on the institution.

lord goring. May I ask areyou staying in London long?

mrs. cheveley. That dependspartly on the weather, partly on the cooking, and partly on SirRobert.

sir robert chiltern. You arenot going to plunge us into a European war, I hope?

mrs. cheveley. There is nodanger, at present!

[She nods tolord goring,with a look of amusement in her eyes, and goes outwithsir robert chiltern.lord goring saunters over tomabel chiltern.]

mabel chiltern. You are verylate!

lord goring. Have you missedme?

mabel chiltern. Awfully!

lord goring. Then I am sorryI did not stay away longer. I like being missed.

mabel chiltern. How veryselfish of you!

lord goring. I am veryselfish.

mabel chiltern. You arealways telling me of your bad qualities, Lord Goring.

lord goring. I have only toldyou half of them as yet, Miss Mabel!

mabel chiltern. Are theothers very bad?

lord goring. Quitedreadful! When I think of them at night I go to sleep atonce.

mabel chiltern. Well, Idelight in your bad qualities. I wouldn’t have youpart with one of them.

lord goring. How very nice ofyou! But then you are always nice. By the way, I wantto ask you a question, Miss Mabel. Who brought Mrs.Cheveley here? That woman in heliotrope, who has just goneout of the room with your brother?

mabel chiltern. Oh, I thinkLady Markby brought her. Why do you ask?

lord goring. I haven’tseen her for years, that is all.

mabel chiltern. What anabsurd reason!

lord goring. All reasons areabsurd.

mabel chiltern. What sort ofa woman is she?

lord goring. Oh! a genius inthe daytime and a beauty at night!

mabel chiltern. I dislike heralready.

lord goring. That shows youradmirable good taste.

vicomte de nanjac.[Approaching.] Ah, the English young lady is thedragon of good taste, is she not? Quite the dragon of goodtaste.

lord goring. So thenewspapers are always telling us.

vicomte de nanjac. I read allyour English newspapers. I find them so amusing.

lord goring. Then, my dearNanjac, you must certainly read between the lines.

vicomte de nanjac. I shouldlike to, but my professor objects. [Tomabel chiltern.] May I have thepleasure of escorting you to the music-room, Mademoiselle?

mabel chiltern. [Lookingvery disappointed.] Delighted, Vicomte, quitedelighted! [Turning tolordgoring.] Aren’t you coming to themusic-room?

lord goring. Not if there isany music going on, Miss Mabel.

mabel chiltern.[Severely.] The music is in German. You wouldnot understand it.

[Goes out with thevicomte denanjac. lord cavershamcomes up to his son.]

lord caversham. Well, sir!what are you doing here? Wasting your life as usual!You should be in bed, sir. You keep too late hours! Iheard of you the other night at Lady Rufford’s dancing tillfour o’clock in the morning!

lord goring. Only a quarterto four, father.

lord caversham. Can’tmake out how you stand London Society. The thing has goneto the dogs, a lot of damned nobodies talking about nothing.

lord goring. I love talkingabout nothing, father. It is the only thing I know anythingabout.

lord caversham. You seem tome to be living entirely for pleasure.

lord goring. What else isthere to live for, father? Nothing ages like happiness.

lord caversham. You areheartless, sir, very heartless!

lord goring. I hope not,father. Good evening, Lady Basildon!

lady basildon. [Archingtwo pretty eyebrows.] Are you here? I had no ideayou ever came to political parties!

lord goring. I adorepolitical parties. They are the only place left to us wherepeople don’t talk politics.

lady basildon. I delight intalking politics. I talk them all day long. But Ican’t bear listening to them. I don’t know howthe unfortunate men in the House stand these long debates.

lord goring. By neverlistening.

lady basildon. Really?

lord goring. [In his mostserious manner.] Of course. You see, it is a verydangerous thing to listen. If one listens one may beconvinced; and a man who allows himself to be convinced by anargument is a thoroughly unreasonable person.

lady basildon. Ah! thataccounts for so much in men that I have never understood, and somuch in women that their husbands never appreciate in them!

mrs. marchmont. [With asigh.] Our husbands never appreciate anything inus. We have to go to others for that!

lady basildon.[Emphatically.] Yes, always to others, have wenot?

lord goring.[Smiling.] And those are the views of the two ladieswho are known to have the most admirable husbands in London.

mrs. marchmont. That isexactly what we can’t stand. My Reginald is quitehopelessly faultless. He is really unendurably so, attimes! There is not the smallest element of excitement inknowing him.

lord goring. Howterrible! Really, the thing should be more widelyknown!

lady basildon. Basildon isquite as bad; he is as domestic as if he was a bachelor.

mrs. marchmont.[Pressinglady basildon’shand.] My poor Olivia! We have married perfecthusbands, and we are well punished for it.

lord goring. I should havethought it was the husbands who were punished.

mrs. marchmont. [Drawingherself up.] Oh, dear no! They are as happy aspossible! And as for trusting us, it is tragic how muchthey trust us.

lady basildon. Perfectlytragic!

lord goring. Or comic, LadyBasildon?

lady basildon. Certainly notcomic, Lord Goring. How unkind of you to suggest such athing!

mrs. marchmont. I am afraidLord Goring is in the camp of the enemy, as usual. I sawhim talking to that Mrs. Cheveley when he came in.

lord goring. Handsome woman,Mrs. Cheveley!

lady basildon.[Stiffly.] Please don’t praise other women inour presence. You might wait for us to do that!

lord goring. I did wait.

mrs. marchmont. Well, we arenot going to praise her. I hear she went to the Opera onMonday night, and told Tommy Rufford at supper that, as far asshe could see, London Society was entirely made up of dowdies anddandies.

lord goring. She is quiteright, too. The men are all dowdies and the women are alldandies, aren’t they?

mrs. marchmont. [After apause.] Oh! do you really think that is what Mrs.Cheveley meant?

lord goring. Of course.And a very sensible remark for Mrs. Cheveley to make, too.

[Entermabel chiltern.She joins the group.]

mabel chiltern. Why are youtalking about Mrs. Cheveley? Everybody is talking aboutMrs. Cheveley! Lord Goring says—what did you say,Lord Goring, about Mrs. Cheveley? Oh! I remember, that shewas a genius in the daytime and a beauty at night.

lady basildon. What a horridcombination! So very unnatural!

mrs. marchmont. [In hermost dreamy manner.] I like looking at geniuses, andlistening to beautiful people.

lord goring. Ah! that ismorbid of you, Mrs. Marchmont!

mrs. marchmont.[Brightening to a look of real pleasure.] I am soglad to hear you say that. Marchmont and I have beenmarried for seven years, and he has never once told me that I wasmorbid. Men are so painfully unobservant!

lady basildon. [Turning toher.] I have always said, dear Margaret, that you werethe most morbid person in London.

mrs. marchmont. Ah! but youare always sympathetic, Olivia!

mabel chiltern. Is it morbidto have a desire for food? I have a great desire forfood. Lord Goring, will you give me some supper?

lord goring. With pleasure,Miss Mabel. [Moves away with her.]

mabel chiltern. How horridyou have been! You have never talked to me the wholeevening!

lord goring. How couldI? You went away with the child-diplomatist.

mabel chiltern. You mighthave followed us. Pursuit would have been onlypolite. I don’t think I like you at all thisevening!

lord goring. I like youimmensely.

mabel chiltern. Well, I wishyou’d show it in a more marked way! [They godownstairs.]

mrs. marchmont. Olivia, Ihave a curious feeling of absolute faintness. I think Ishould like some supper very much. I know I should likesome supper.

lady basildon. I ampositively dying for supper, Margaret!

mrs. marchmont. Men are sohorribly selfish, they never think of these things.

lady basildon. Men aregrossly material, grossly material!

[Thevicomte de nanjacenters from the music-room with some other guests.After having carefully examined all the people present,he approachesladybasildon.]

vicomte de nanjac. May I havethe honour of taking you down to supper, Comtesse?

lady basildon.[Coldly.] I never take supper, thank you,Vicomte. [Thevicomteis about to retire. ladybasildon, seeing this, rises at once and takeshis arm.] But I will come down with you withpleasure.

vicomte de nanjac. I am sofond of eating! I am very English in all my tastes.

lady basildon. You look quiteEnglish, Vicomte, quite English.

[They pass out. mr.montford, a perfectly groomed young dandy,approachesmrs. marchmont.]

mr. montford. Like somesupper, Mrs. Marchmont?

mrs. marchmont.[Languidly.] Thank you, Mr. Montford, I never touchsupper. [Rises hastily and takes his arm.] ButI will sit beside you, and watch you.

mr. montford. I don’tknow that I like being watched when I am eating!

mrs. marchmont. Then I willwatch some one else.

mr. montford. I don’tknow that I should like that either.

mrs. marchmont.[Severely.] Pray, Mr. Montford, do not make thesepainful scenes of jealousy in public!

[They go downstairs with the other guests,passingsir robert chilternandmrs. cheveley, who nowenter.]

sir robert chiltern. And areyou going to any of our country houses before you leave England,Mrs. Cheveley?

mrs. cheveley. Oh, no!I can’t stand your English house-parties. In Englandpeople actually try to be brilliant at breakfast. That isso dreadful of them! Only dull people are brilliant atbreakfast. And then the family skeleton is always readingfamily prayers. My stay in England really depends on you,Sir Robert. [Sits down on the sofa.]

sir robert chiltern.[Taking a seat beside her.] Seriously?

mrs. cheveley. Quiteseriously. I want to talk to you about a great politicaland financial scheme, about this Argentine Canal Company, infact.

sir robert chiltern. What atedious, practical subject for you to talk about, Mrs.Cheveley!

mrs. cheveley. Oh, I liketedious, practical subjects. What I don’t like aretedious, practical people. There is a widedifference. Besides, you are interested, I know, inInternational Canal schemes. You were Lord Radley’ssecretary, weren’t you, when the Government bought the SuezCanal shares?

sir robert chiltern.Yes. But the Suez Canal was a very great and splendidundertaking. It gave us our direct route to India. Ithad imperial value. It was necessary that we should havecontrol. This Argentine scheme is a commonplace StockExchange swindle.

mrs. cheveley. A speculation,Sir Robert! A brilliant, daring speculation.

sir robert chiltern. Believeme, Mrs. Cheveley, it is a swindle. Let us call things bytheir proper names. It makes matters simpler. We haveall the information about it at the Foreign Office. Infact, I sent out a special Commission to inquire into the matterprivately, and they report that the works are hardly begun, andas for the money already subscribed, no one seems to know whathas become of it. The whole thing is a second Panama, andwith not a quarter of the chance of success that miserable affairever had. I hope you have not invested in it. I amsure you are far too clever to have done that.

mrs. cheveley. I haveinvested very largely in it.

sir robert chiltern. Whocould have advised you to do such a foolish thing?

mrs. cheveley. Your oldfriend—and mine.

sir robert chiltern. Who?

mrs. cheveley. BaronArnheim.

sir robert chiltern.[Frowning.] Ah! yes. I remember hearing, atthe time of his death, that he had been mixed up in the wholeaffair.

mrs. cheveley. It was hislast romance. His last but one, to do him justice.

sir robert chiltern.[Rising.] But you have not seen my Corots yet.They are in the music-room. Corots seem to go with music,don’t they? May I show them to you?

mrs. cheveley. [Shakingher head.] I am not in a mood to-night for silvertwilights, or rose-pink dawns. I want to talkbusiness. [Motions to him with her fan to sit down againbeside her.]

sir robert chiltern. I fear Ihave no advice to give you, Mrs. Cheveley, except to interestyourself in something less dangerous. The success of theCanal depends, of course, on the attitude of England, and I amgoing to lay the report of the Commissioners before the Houseto-morrow night.

mrs. cheveley. That you mustnot do. In your own interests, Sir Robert, to say nothingof mine, you must not do that.

sir robert chiltern.[Looking at her in wonder.] In my owninterests? My dear Mrs. Cheveley, what do you mean?[Sits down beside her.]

mrs. cheveley. Sir Robert, Iwill be quite frank with you. I want you to withdraw thereport that you had intended to lay before the House, on theground that you have reasons to believe that the Commissionershave been prejudiced or misinformed, or something. Then Iwant you to say a few words to the effect that the Government isgoing to reconsider the question, and that you have reason tobelieve that the Canal, if completed, will be of greatinternational value. You know the sort of things ministerssay in cases of this kind. A few ordinary platitudes willdo. In modern life nothing produces such an effect as agood platitude. It makes the whole world kin. Willyou do that for me?

sir robert chiltern. Mrs.Cheveley, you cannot be serious in making me such aproposition!

mrs. cheveley. I am quiteserious.

sir robert chiltern.[Coldly.] Pray allow me to believe that you arenot.

mrs. cheveley. [Speakingwith great deliberation and emphasis.] Ah! but Iam. And if you do what I ask you, I . . . will pay you veryhandsomely!

sir robert chiltern. Payme!

mrs. cheveley. Yes.

sir robert chiltern. I amafraid I don’t quite understand what you mean.

mrs. cheveley. [Leaningback on the sofa and looking at him.] How verydisappointing! And I have come all the way from Vienna inorder that you should thoroughly understand me.

sir robert chiltern. I fear Idon’t.

mrs. cheveley. [In hermost nonchalant manner.] My dear Sir Robert, you are aman of the world, and you have your price, I suppose.Everybody has nowadays. The drawback is that most peopleare so dreadfully expensive. I know I am. I hope youwill be more reasonable in your terms.

sir robert chiltern.[Rises indignantly.] If you will allow me, I willcall your carriage for you. You have lived so long abroad,Mrs. Cheveley, that you seem to be unable to realise that you aretalking to an English gentleman.

mrs. cheveley. [Detainshim by touching his arm with her fan, and keeping it therewhile she is talking.] I realise that I am talking to aman who laid the foundation of his fortune by selling to a StockExchange speculator a Cabinet secret.

sir robert chiltern.[Biting his lip.] What do you mean?

mrs. cheveley. [Rising andfacing him.] I mean that I know the real origin of yourwealth and your career, and I have got your letter, too.

sir robert chiltern. Whatletter?

mrs. cheveley.[Contemptuously.] The letter you wrote to BaronArnheim, when you were Lord Radley’s secretary, telling theBaron to buy Suez Canal shares—a letter written three daysbefore the Government announced its own purchase.

sir robert chiltern.[Hoarsely.] It is not true.

mrs. cheveley. You thoughtthat letter had been destroyed. How foolish of you!It is in my possession.

sir robert chiltern. Theaffair to which you allude was no more than a speculation.The House of Commons had not yet passed the bill; it might havebeen rejected.

mrs. cheveley. It was aswindle, Sir Robert. Let us call things by their propernames. It makes everything simpler. And now I amgoing to sell you that letter, and the price I ask for it is yourpublic support of the Argentine scheme. You made your ownfortune out of one canal. You must help me and my friendsto make our fortunes out of another!

sir robert chiltern. It isinfamous, what you propose—infamous!

mrs. cheveley. Oh, no!This is the game of life as we all have to play it, Sir Robert,sooner or later!

sir robert chiltern. I cannotdo what you ask me.

mrs. cheveley. You mean youcannot help doing it. You know you are standing on the edgeof a precipice. And it is not for you to make terms.It is for you to accept them. Supposing yourefuse—

sir robert chiltern. Whatthen?

mrs. cheveley. My dear SirRobert, what then? You are ruined, that is all!Remember to what a point your Puritanism in England has broughtyou. In old days nobody pretended to be a bit better thanhis neighbours. In fact, to be a bit better thanone’s neighbour was considered excessively vulgar andmiddle-class. Nowadays, with our modern mania for morality,every one has to pose as a paragon of purity, incorruptibility,and all the other seven deadly virtues—and what is theresult? You all go over like ninepins—one after theother. Not a year passes in England without somebodydisappearing. Scandals used to lend charm, or at leastinterest, to a man—now they crush him. And yours is avery nasty scandal. You couldn’t survive it. If itwere known that as a young man, secretary to a great andimportant minister, you sold a Cabinet secret for a large sum ofmoney, and that that was the origin of your wealth and career,you would be hounded out of public life, you would disappearcompletely. And after all, Sir Robert, why should yousacrifice your entire future rather than deal diplomatically withyour enemy? For the moment I am your enemy. I admitit! And I am much stronger than you are. The bigbattalions are on my side. You have a splendid position,but it is your splendid position that makes you sovulnerable. You can’t defend it! And I am inattack. Of course I have not talked morality to you.You must admit in fairness that I have spared you that.Years ago you did a clever, unscrupulous thing; it turned out agreat success. You owe to it your fortune andposition. And now you have got to pay for it. Sooneror later we have all to pay for what we do. You have to paynow. Before I leave you to-night, you have got to promiseme to suppress your report, and to speak in the House in favourof this scheme.

sir robert chiltern. What youask is impossible.

mrs. cheveley. You must makeit possible. You are going to make it possible. SirRobert, you know what your English newspapers are like.Suppose that when I leave this house I drive down to somenewspaper office, and give them this scandal and the proofs ofit! Think of their loathsome joy, of the delight they wouldhave in dragging you down, of the mud and mire they would plungeyou in. Think of the hypocrite with his greasy smilepenning his leading article, and arranging the foulness of thepublic placard.

sir robert chiltern.Stop! You want me to withdraw the report and to make ashort speech stating that I believe there are possibilities inthe scheme?

mrs. cheveley. [Sittingdown on the sofa.] Those are my terms.

sir robert chiltern. [In alow voice.] I will give you any sum of money youwant.

mrs. cheveley. Even you arenot rich enough, Sir Robert, to buy back your past. No manis.

sir robert chiltern. I willnot do what you ask me. I will not.

mrs. cheveley. You haveto. If you don’t . . . [Rises from thesofa.]

sir robert chiltern.[Bewildered and unnerved.] Wait a moment! Whatdid you propose? You said that you would give me back myletter, didn’t you?

mrs. cheveley. Yes.That is agreed. I will be in the Ladies’ Galleryto-morrow night at half-past eleven. If by thattime—and you will have had heaps of opportunity—youhave made an announcement to the House in the terms I wish, Ishall hand you back your letter with the prettiest thanks, andthe best, or at any rate the most suitable, compliment I canthink of. I intend to play quite fairly with you. Oneshould always play fairly . . . when one has the winningcards. The Baron taught me that . . . amongst otherthings.

sir robert chiltern. You mustlet me have time to consider your proposal.

mrs. cheveley. No; you mustsettle now!

sir robert chiltern. Give mea week—three days!

mrs. cheveley.Impossible! I have got to telegraph to Vienna to-night.

sir robert chiltern. My God!what brought you into my life?

mrs. cheveley.Circumstances. [Moves towards the door.]

sir robert chiltern.Don’t go. I consent. The report shall bewithdrawn. I will arrange for a question to be put to me onthe subject.

mrs. cheveley. Thankyou. I knew we should come to an amicable agreement.I understood your nature from the first. I analysed you,though you did not adore me. And now you can get mycarriage for me, Sir Robert. I see the people coming upfrom supper, and Englishmen always get romantic after a meal, andthat bores me dreadfully. [Exitsir robert chiltern.]

[Enter Guests, ladychiltern, lady markby, lord caversham, ladybasildon, mrs. marchmont, vicomte de nanjac, mr.montford.]

lady markby. Well, dear Mrs.Cheveley, I hope you have enjoyed yourself. Sir Robert isvery entertaining, is he not?

mrs. cheveley. Mostentertaining! I have enjoyed my talk with himimmensely.

lady markby. He has had avery interesting and brilliant career. And he has married amost admirable wife. Lady Chiltern is a woman of the veryhighest principles, I am glad to say. I am a little too oldnow, myself, to trouble about setting a good example, but Ialways admire people who do. And Lady Chiltern has a veryennobling effect on life, though her dinner-parties are ratherdull sometimes. But one can’t have everything, canone? And now I must go, dear. Shall I call for youto-morrow?

mrs. cheveley. Thanks.

lady markby. We might drivein the Park at five. Everything looks so fresh in the Parknow!

mrs. cheveley. Except thepeople!

lady markby. Perhaps thepeople are a little jaded. I have often observed that theSeason as it goes on produces a kind of softening of thebrain. However, I think anything is better than highintellectual pressure. That is the most unbecoming thingthere is. It makes the noses of the young girls soparticularly large. And there is nothing so difficult tomarry as a large nose; men don’t like them.Good-night, dear! [Toladychiltern.] Good-night, Gertrude! [Goes outonlord caversham’sarm.]

mrs. cheveley. What acharming house you have, Lady Chiltern! I have spent adelightful evening. It has been so interesting getting toknow your husband.

lady chiltern. Why did youwish to meet my husband, Mrs. Cheveley?

mrs. cheveley. Oh, I willtell you. I wanted to interest him in this Argentine Canalscheme, of which I dare say you have heard. And I found himmost susceptible,—susceptible to reason, I mean. Arare thing in a man. I converted him in ten minutes.He is going to make a speech in the House to-morrow night infavour of the idea. We must go to the Ladies’ Galleryand hear him! It will be a great occasion!

lady chiltern. There must besome mistake. That scheme could never have myhusband’s support.

mrs. cheveley. Oh, I assureyou it’s all settled. I don’t regret my tediousjourney from Vienna now. It has been a great success.But, of course, for the next twenty-four hours the whole thing isa dead secret.

lady chiltern.[Gently.] A secret? Between whom?

mrs. cheveley. [With aflash of amusement in her eyes.] Between your husbandand myself.

sir robert chiltern.[Entering.] Your carriage is here, Mrs.Cheveley!

mrs. cheveley. Thanks!Good evening, Lady Chiltern! Good-night, Lord Goring!I am at Claridge’s. Don’t you think you mightleave a card?

lord goring. If you wish it,Mrs. Cheveley!

mrs. cheveley. Oh,don’t be so solemn about it, or I shall be obliged to leavea card on you. In England I suppose that would hardly beconsidered en règle. Abroad, we are morecivilised. Will you see me down, Sir Robert? Now thatwe have both the same interests at heart we shall be greatfriends, I hope!

[Sails out onsir robertchiltern’s arm. lady chiltern goes to the top of thestaircase and looks down at them as they descend.Her expression is troubled. After a little timeshe is joined by some of the guests, and passes with theminto another reception-room.]

mabel chiltern. What a horridwoman!

lord goring. You should go tobed, Miss Mabel.

mabel chiltern. LordGoring!

lord goring. My father toldme to go to bed an hour ago. I don’t see why Ishouldn’t give you the same advice. I always pass ongood advice. It is the only thing to do with it. Itis never of any use to oneself.

mabel chiltern. Lord Goring,you are always ordering me out of the room. I think it mostcourageous of you. Especially as I am not going to bed forhours. [Goes over to the sofa.] You can comeand sit down if you like, and talk about anything in the world,except the Royal Academy, Mrs. Cheveley, or novels in Scotchdialect. They are not improving subjects. [Catchessight of something that is lying on the sofa half hidden by thecushion.] What is this? Some one has dropped adiamond brooch! Quite beautiful, isn’t it?[Shows it to him.] I wish it was mine, but Gertrudewon’t let me wear anything but pearls, and I am thoroughlysick of pearls. They make one look so plain, so good and sointellectual. I wonder whom the brooch belongs to.

lord goring. I wonder whodropped it.

mabel chiltern. It is abeautiful brooch.

lord goring. It is a handsomebracelet.

mabel chiltern. Itisn’t a bracelet. It’s a brooch.

lord goring. It can be usedas a bracelet. [Takes it from her, and,pulling out a green letter-case, puts the ornamentcarefully in it, and replaces the whole thing in hisbreast-pocket with the most perfect sang froid.]

mabel chiltern. What are youdoing?

lord goring. Miss Mabel, I amgoing to make a rather strange request to you.

mabel chiltern.[Eagerly.] Oh, pray do! I have been waitingfor it all the evening.

lord goring. [Is a littletaken aback, but recovers himself.] Don’tmention to anybody that I have taken charge of this brooch.Should any one write and claim it, let me know at once.

mabel chiltern. That is astrange request.

lord goring. Well, you see Igave this brooch to somebody once, years ago.

mabel chiltern. You did?

lord goring. Yes.

[lady chiltern entersalone. The other guests have gone.]

mabel chiltern. Then I shallcertainly bid you good-night. Good-night, Gertrude![Exit.]

lady chiltern. Good-night,dear! [Tolordgoring.] You saw whom Lady Markby brought hereto-night?

lord goring. Yes. Itwas an unpleasant surprise. What did she come here for?

lady chiltern. Apparently totry and lure Robert to uphold some fraudulent scheme in which sheis interested. The Argentine Canal, in fact.

lord goring. She has mistakenher man, hasn’t she?

lady chiltern. She isincapable of understanding an upright nature like myhusband’s!

lord goring. Yes. Ishould fancy she came to grief if she tried to get Robert intoher toils. It is extraordinary what astounding mistakesclever women make.

lady chiltern. I don’tcall women of that kind clever. I call them stupid!

lord goring. Same thingoften. Good-night, Lady Chiltern!

lady chiltern.Good-night!

[Entersir robertchiltern.]

sir robert chiltern. My dearArthur, you are not going? Do stop a little!

lord goring. Afraid Ican’t, thanks. I have promised to look in at theHartlocks’. I believe they have got a mauve Hungarianband that plays mauve Hungarian music. See you soon.Good-bye!

[Exit]

sir robert chiltern. Howbeautiful you look to-night, Gertrude!

lady chiltern. Robert, it isnot true, is it? You are not going to lend your support tothis Argentine speculation? You couldn’t!

sir robert chiltern.[Starting.] Who told you I intended to do so?

lady chiltern. That woman whohas just gone out, Mrs. Cheveley, as she calls herself now.She seemed to taunt me with it. Robert, I know thiswoman. You don’t. We were at schooltogether. She was untruthful, dishonest, an evil influenceon every one whose trust or friendship she could win. Ihated, I despised her. She stole things, she was athief. She was sent away for being a thief. Why doyou let her influence you?

sir robert chiltern.Gertrude, what you tell me may be true, but it happened manyyears ago. It is best forgotten! Mrs. Cheveley mayhave changed since then. No one should be entirely judgedby their past.

lady chiltern.[Sadly.] One’s past is what one is. Itis the only way by which people should be judged.

sir robert chiltern. That isa hard saying, Gertrude!

lady chiltern. It is a truesaying, Robert. And what did she mean by boasting that shehad got you to lend your support, your name, to a thing I haveheard you describe as the most dishonest and fraudulent schemethere has ever been in political life?

sir robert chiltern.[Biting his lip.] I was mistaken in the view Itook. We all may make mistakes.

lady chiltern. But you toldme yesterday that you had received the report from theCommission, and that it entirely condemned the whole thing.

sir robert chiltern.[Walking up and down.] I have reasons now to believethat the Commission was prejudiced, or, at any rate,misinformed. Besides, Gertrude, public and private life aredifferent things. They have different laws, and move ondifferent lines.

lady chiltern. They shouldboth represent man at his highest. I see no differencebetween them.

sir robert chiltern.[Stopping.] In the present case, on a matter ofpractical politics, I have changed my mind. That isall.

lady chiltern. All!

sir robert chiltern.[Sternly.] Yes!

lady chiltern. Robert!Oh! it is horrible that I should have to ask you such aquestion—Robert, are you telling me the whole truth?

sir robert chiltern. Why doyou ask me such a question?

lady chiltern. [After apause.] Why do you not answer it?

sir robert chiltern.[Sitting down.] Gertrude, truth is a very complexthing, and politics is a very complex business. There arewheels within wheels. One may be under certain obligationsto people that one must pay. Sooner or later in politicallife one has to compromise. Every one does.

lady chiltern.Compromise? Robert, why do you talk so differently to-nightfrom the way I have always heard you talk? Why are youchanged?

sir robert chiltern. I am notchanged. But circumstances alter things.

lady chiltern. Circumstancesshould never alter principles!

sir robert chiltern. But if Itold you—

lady chiltern. What?

sir robert chiltern. That itwas necessary, vitally necessary?

lady chiltern. It can neverbe necessary to do what is not honourable. Or if it benecessary, then what is it that I have loved! But it isnot, Robert; tell me it is not. Why should it be?What gain would you get? Money? We have no need ofthat! And money that comes from a tainted source is adegradation. Power? But power is nothing initself. It is power to do good that is fine—that, andthat only. What is it, then? Robert, tell me why youare going to do this dishonourable thing!

sir robert chiltern.Gertrude, you have no right to use that word. I told you itwas a question of rational compromise. It is no more thanthat.

lady chiltern. Robert, thatis all very well for other men, for men who treat life simply asa sordid speculation; but not for you, Robert, not for you.You are different. All your life you have stood apart fromothers. You have never let the world soil you. To theworld, as to myself, you have been an ideal always. Oh! bethat ideal still. That great inheritance throw notaway—that tower of ivory do not destroy. Robert, mencan love what is beneath them—things unworthy, stained,dishonoured. We women worship when we love; and when welose our worship, we lose everything. Oh! don’t killmy love for you, don’t kill that!

sir robert chiltern.Gertrude!

lady chiltern. I know thatthere are men with horrible secrets in their lives—men whohave done some shameful thing, and who in some critical momenthave to pay for it, by doing some other act of shame—oh!don’t tell me you are such as they are! Robert, isthere in your life any secret dishonour or disgrace? Tellme, tell me at once, that—

sir robert chiltern. Thatwhat?

lady chiltern. [Speakingvery slowly.] That our lives may drift apart.

sir robert chiltern. Driftapart?

lady chiltern. That they maybe entirely separate. It would be better for us both.

sir robert chiltern.Gertrude, there is nothing in my past life that you might notknow.

lady chiltern. I was sure ofit, Robert, I was sure of it. But why did you say thosedreadful things, things so unlike your real self?Don’t let us ever talk about the subject again. Youwill write, won’t you, to Mrs. Cheveley, and tell her thatyou cannot support this scandalous scheme of hers? If youhave given her any promise you must take it back, that isall!

sir robert chiltern. Must Iwrite and tell her that?

lady chiltern. Surely,Robert! What else is there to do?

sir robert chiltern. I mightsee her personally. It would be better.

lady chiltern. You must neversee her again, Robert. She is not a woman you should everspeak to. She is not worthy to talk to a man likeyou. No; you must write to her at once, now, this moment,and let your letter show her that your decision is quiteirrevocable!

sir robert chiltern. Writethis moment!

lady chiltern. Yes.

sir robert chiltern. But itis so late. It is close on twelve.

lady chiltern. That makes nomatter. She must know at once that she has been mistaken inyou—and that you are not a man to do anything base orunderhand or dishonourable. Write here, Robert. Writethat you decline to support this scheme of hers, as you hold itto be a dishonest scheme. Yes—write the worddishonest. She knows what that word means. [sir robert chiltern sits down and writesa letter. His wife takes it up and readsit.] Yes; that will do. [Ringsbell.] And now the envelope. [He writes theenvelope slowly. Entermason.] Have this letter sent at onceto Claridge’s Hotel. There is no answer.[Exitmason. lady chiltern kneels down beside herhusband, and puts her arms around him.] Robert,love gives one an instinct to things. I feel to-night thatI have saved you from something that might have been a danger toyou, from something that might have made men honour you less thanthey do. I don’t think you realise sufficiently,Robert, that you have brought into the political life of our timea nobler atmosphere, a finer attitude towards life, a freer airof purer aims and higher ideals—I know it, and for that Ilove you, Robert.

sir robert chiltern. Oh, loveme always, Gertrude, love me always!

lady chiltern. I will loveyou always, because you will always be worthy of love. Weneeds must love the highest when we see it! [Kisses himand rises and goes out.]

[sir robert chiltern walks upand down for a moment; then sits down and buries his facein his hands. The Servant enters and begins pullingout the lights. sir robertchiltern looks up.]

sir robert chiltern. Put outthe lights, Mason, put out the lights!

[The Servant puts out the lights. The roombecomes almost dark. The only light there is comesfrom the great chandelier that hangs over the staircase andillumines the tapestry of the Triumph of Love.]

ActDrop.

SECOND ACT

SCENE

Morning-room at Sir Robert Chiltern’s house.

[lord goring, dressed in theheight of fashion, is lounging in an armchair.sir robert chiltern is standing infront of the fireplace. He is evidently in a stateof great mental excitement and distress. As thescene progresses he paces nervously up and down theroom.]

lord goring. My dear Robert,it’s a very awkward business, very awkward indeed.You should have told your wife the whole thing. Secretsfrom other people’s wives are a necessary luxury in modernlife. So, at least, I am always told at the club by peoplewho are bald enough to know better. But no man should havea secret from his own wife. She invariably finds itout. Women have a wonderful instinct about things.They can discover everything except the obvious.

sir robert chiltern. Arthur,I couldn’t tell my wife. When could I have toldher? Not last night. It would have made a life-longseparation between us, and I would have lost the love of the onewoman in the world I worship, of the only woman who has everstirred love within me. Last night it would have been quiteimpossible. She would have turned from me in horror . . .in horror and in contempt.

lord goring. Is Lady Chilternas perfect as all that?

sir robert chiltern. Yes; mywife is as perfect as all that.

lord goring. [Taking offhis left-hand glove.] What a pity! I beg yourpardon, my dear fellow, I didn’t quite mean that. Butif what you tell me is true, I should like to have a serious talkabout life with Lady Chiltern.

sir robert chiltern. It wouldbe quite useless.

lord goring. May I try?

sir robert chiltern. Yes; butnothing could make her alter her views.

lord goring. Well, at theworst it would simply be a psychological experiment.

sir robert chiltern. All suchexperiments are terribly dangerous.

lord goring. Everything isdangerous, my dear fellow. If it wasn’t so, lifewouldn’t be worth living. . . . Well, I am bound to saythat I think you should have told her years ago.

sir robert chiltern.When? When we were engaged? Do you think she wouldhave married me if she had known that the origin of my fortune issuch as it is, the basis of my career such as it is, and that Ihad done a thing that I suppose most men would call shameful anddishonourable?

lord goring.[Slowly.] Yes; most men would call it uglynames. There is no doubt of that.

sir robert chiltern.[Bitterly.] Men who every day do something of thesame kind themselves. Men who, each one of them, have worsesecrets in their own lives.

lord goring. That is thereason they are so pleased to find out other people’ssecrets. It distracts public attention from their own.

sir robert chiltern. And,after all, whom did I wrong by what I did? No one.

lord goring. [Looking athim steadily.] Except yourself, Robert.

sir robert chiltern.[After a pause.] Of course I had private informationabout a certain transaction contemplated by the Government of theday, and I acted on it. Private information is practicallythe source of every large modern fortune.

lord goring. [Tapping hisboot with his cane.] And public scandal invariably theresult.

sir robert chiltern.[Pacing up and down the room.] Arthur, do you thinkthat what I did nearly eighteen years ago should be brought upagainst me now? Do you think it fair that a man’swhole career should be ruined for a fault done in one’sboyhood almost? I was twenty-two at the time, and I had thedouble misfortune of being well-born and poor, two unforgiveablethings nowadays. Is it fair that the folly, the sin ofone’s youth, if men choose to call it a sin, should wreck alife like mine, should place me in the pillory, should shatterall that I have worked for, all that I have built up. Is itfair, Arthur?

lord goring. Life is neverfair, Robert. And perhaps it is a good thing for most of usthat it is not.

sir robert chiltern. Everyman of ambition has to fight his century with its ownweapons. What this century worships is wealth. TheGod of this century is wealth. To succeed one must havewealth. At all costs one must have wealth.

lord goring. You underrateyourself, Robert. Believe me, without wealth you could havesucceeded just as well.

sir robert chiltern. When Iwas old, perhaps. When I had lost my passion for power, orcould not use it. When I was tired, worn out,disappointed. I wanted my success when I was young.Youth is the time for success. I couldn’t wait.

lord goring. Well, youcertainly have had your success while you are still young.No one in our day has had such a brilliant success.Under-Secretary for Foreign Affairs at the age offorty—that’s good enough for any one, I shouldthink.

sir robert chiltern. And ifit is all taken away from me now? If I lose everything overa horrible scandal? If I am hounded from public life?

lord goring. Robert, howcould you have sold yourself for money?

sir robert chiltern.[Excitedly.] I did not sell myself for money.I bought success at a great price. That is all.

lord goring.[Gravely.] Yes; you certainly paid a great price forit. But what first made you think of doing such athing?

sir robert chiltern. BaronArnheim.

lord goring. Damnedscoundrel!

sir robert chiltern. No; hewas a man of a most subtle and refined intellect. A man ofculture, charm, and distinction. One of the mostintellectual men I ever met.

lord goring. Ah! I prefer agentlemanly fool any day. There is more to be said forstupidity than people imagine. Personally I have a greatadmiration for stupidity. It is a sort of fellow-feeling, Isuppose. But how did he do it? Tell me the wholething.

sir robert chiltern.[Throws himself into an armchair by thewriting-table.] One night after dinner at LordRadley’s the Baron began talking about success in modernlife as something that one could reduce to an absolutely definitescience. With that wonderfully fascinating quiet voice ofhis he expounded to us the most terrible of all philosophies, thephilosophy of power, preached to us the most marvellous of allgospels, the gospel of gold. I think he saw the effect hehad produced on me, for some days afterwards he wrote and askedme to come and see him. He was living then in Park Lane, inthe house Lord Woolcomb has now. I remember so well how,with a strange smile on his pale, curved lips, he led me throughhis wonderful picture gallery, showed me his tapestries, hisenamels, his jewels, his carved ivories, made me wonder at thestrange loveliness of the luxury in which he lived; and then toldme that luxury was nothing but a background, a painted scene in aplay, and that power, power over other men, power over the world,was the one thing worth having, the one supreme pleasure worthknowing, the one joy one never tired of, and that in our centuryonly the rich possessed it.

lord goring. [With greatdeliberation.] A thoroughly shallow creed.

sir robert chiltern.[Rising.] I didn’t think so then. Idon’t think so now. Wealth has given me enormouspower. It gave me at the very outset of my life freedom,and freedom is everything. You have never been poor, andnever known what ambition is. You cannot understand what awonderful chance the Baron gave me. Such a chance as fewmen get.

lord goring. Fortunately forthem, if one is to judge by results. But tell medefinitely, how did the Baron finally persuade you to—well,to do what you did?

sir robert chiltern. When Iwas going away he said to me that if I ever could give him anyprivate information of real value he would make me a very richman. I was dazed at the prospect he held out to me, and myambition and my desire for power were at that timeboundless. Six weeks later certain private documents passedthrough my hands.

lord goring. [Keeping hiseyes steadily fixed on the carpet.] Statedocuments?

sir robert chiltern.Yes. [lord goring sighs,then passes his hand across his forehead and looksup.]

lord goring. I had no ideathat you, of all men in the world, could have been so weak,Robert, as to yield to such a temptation as Baron Arnheim heldout to you.

sir robert chiltern.Weak? Oh, I am sick of hearing that phrase. Sick ofusing it about others. Weak? Do you really think,Arthur, that it is weakness that yields to temptation? Itell you that there are terrible temptations that it requiresstrength, strength and courage, to yield to. To stake allone’s life on a single moment, to risk everything on onethrow, whether the stake be power or pleasure, I carenot—there is no weakness in that. There is ahorrible, a terrible courage. I had that courage. Isat down the same afternoon and wrote Baron Arnheim the letterthis woman now holds. He made three-quarters of a millionover the transaction.

lord goring. And you?

sir robert chiltern. Ireceived from the Baron £110,000.

lord goring. You were worthmore, Robert.

sir robert chiltern. No; thatmoney gave me exactly what I wanted, power over others. Iwent into the House immediately. The Baron advised me infinance from time to time. Before five years I had almosttrebled my fortune. Since then everything that I havetouched has turned out a success. In all things connectedwith money I have had a luck so extraordinary that sometimes ithas made me almost afraid. I remember having readsomewhere, in some strange book, that when the gods wish topunish us they answer our prayers.

lord goring. But tell me,Robert, did you never suffer any regret for what you haddone?

sir robert chiltern.No. I felt that I had fought the century with its ownweapons, and won.

lord goring.[Sadly.] You thought you had won.

sir robert chiltern. Ithought so. [After a long pause.] Arthur, doyou despise me for what I have told you?

lord goring. [With deepfeeling in his voice.] I am very sorry for you, Robert,very sorry indeed.

sir robert chiltern. Idon’t say that I suffered any remorse. Ididn’t. Not remorse in the ordinary, rather sillysense of the word. But I have paid conscience money manytimes. I had a wild hope that I might disarm destiny.The sum Baron Arnheim gave me I have distributed twice over inpublic charities since then.

lord goring. [Lookingup.] In public charities? Dear me! what a lot ofharm you must have done, Robert!

sir robert chiltern. Oh,don’t say that, Arthur; don’t talk like that!

lord goring. Never mind whatI say, Robert! I am always saying what I shouldn’tsay. In fact, I usually say what I really think. Agreat mistake nowadays. It makes one so liable to bemisunderstood. As regards this dreadful business, I willhelp you in whatever way I can. Of course you knowthat.

sir robert chiltern. Thankyou, Arthur, thank you. But what is to be done? Whatcan be done?

lord goring. [Leaning backwith his hands in his pockets.] Well, the Englishcan’t stand a man who is always saying he is in the right,but they are very fond of a man who admits that he has been inthe wrong. It is one of the best things in them.However, in your case, Robert, a confession would not do.The money, if you will allow me to say so, is . . .awkward. Besides, if you did make a clean breast of thewhole affair, you would never be able to talk moralityagain. And in England a man who can’t talk moralitytwice a week to a large, popular, immoral audience is quite overas a serious politician. There would be nothing left forhim as a profession except Botany or the Church. Aconfession would be of no use. It would ruin you.

sir robert chiltern. It wouldruin me. Arthur, the only thing for me to do now is tofight the thing out.

lord goring. [Rising fromhis chair.] I was waiting for you to say that,Robert. It is the only thing to do now. And you mustbegin by telling your wife the whole story.

sir robert chiltern. That Iwill not do.

lord goring. Robert, believeme, you are wrong.

sir robert chiltern. Icouldn’t do it. It would kill her love for me.And now about this woman, this Mrs. Cheveley. How can Idefend myself against her? You knew her before, Arthur,apparently.

lord goring. Yes.

sir robert chiltern. Did youknow her well?

lord goring. [Arranginghis necktie.] So little that I got engaged to bemarried to her once, when I was staying at theTenbys’. The affair lasted for three days . . .nearly.

sir robert chiltern. Why wasit broken off?

lord goring.[Airily.] Oh, I forget. At least, it makes nomatter. By the way, have you tried her with money?She used to be confoundedly fond of money.

sir robert chiltern. Ioffered her any sum she wanted. She refused.

lord goring. Then themarvellous gospel of gold breaks down sometimes. The richcan’t do everything, after all.

sir robert chiltern. Noteverything. I suppose you are right. Arthur, I feelthat public disgrace is in store for me. I feel certain ofit. I never knew what terror was before. I know itnow. It is as if a hand of ice were laid upon one’sheart. It is as if one’s heart were beating itself todeath in some empty hollow.

lord goring. [Striking thetable.] Robert, you must fight her. You mustfight her.

sir robert chiltern. Buthow?

lord goring. I can’ttell you how at present. I have not the smallestidea. But every one has some weak point. There issome flaw in each one of us. [Strolls to the fireplaceand looks at himself in the glass.] My father tells methat even I have faults. Perhaps I have. Idon’t know.

sir robert chiltern. Indefending myself against Mrs. Cheveley, I have a right to use anyweapon I can find, have I not?

lord goring. [Stilllooking in the glass.] In your place I don’tthink I should have the smallest scruple in doing so. Sheis thoroughly well able to take care of herself.

sir robert chiltern. [Sitsdown at the table and takes a pen in his hand.] Well, Ishall send a cipher telegram to the Embassy at Vienna, to inquireif there is anything known against her. There may be somesecret scandal she might be afraid of.

lord goring. [Settling hisbuttonhole.] Oh, I should fancy Mrs. Cheveley is one ofthose very modern women of our time who find a new scandal asbecoming as a new bonnet, and air them both in the Park everyafternoon at five-thirty. I am sure she adores scandals,and that the sorrow of her life at present is that shecan’t manage to have enough of them.

sir robert chiltern.[Writing.] Why do you say that?

lord goring. [Turninground.] Well, she wore far too much rouge last night,and not quite enough clothes. That is always a sign ofdespair in a woman.

sir robert chiltern.[Striking a bell.] But it is worth while my wiringto Vienna, is it not?

lord goring. It is alwaysworth while asking a question, though it is not always worthwhile answering one.

[Entermason.]

sir robert chiltern. Is Mr.Trafford in his room?

mason. Yes, Sir Robert.

sir robert chiltern. [Putswhat he has written into an envelope, which he thencarefully closes.] Tell him to have this sent off incipher at once. There must not be a moment’sdelay.

mason. Yes, Sir Robert.

sir robert chiltern. Oh! justgive that back to me again.

[Writes something on the envelope. mason then goes out with theletter.]

sir robert chiltern. She musthave had some curious hold over Baron Arnheim. I wonderwhat it was.

lord goring.[Smiling.] I wonder.

sir robert chiltern. I willfight her to the death, as long as my wife knows nothing.

lord goring.[Strongly.] Oh, fight in any case—in anycase.

sir robert chiltern. [Witha gesture of despair.] If my wife found out, therewould be little left to fight for. Well, as soon as I hearfrom Vienna, I shall let you know the result. It is achance, just a chance, but I believe in it. And as I foughtthe age with its own weapons, I will fight her with herweapons. It is only fair, and she looks like a woman with apast, doesn’t she?

lord goring. Most prettywomen do. But there is a fashion in pasts just as there isa fashion in frocks. Perhaps Mrs. Cheveley’s past ismerely a slightly décolleté one, and they areexcessively popular nowadays. Besides, my dear Robert, Ishould not build too high hopes on frightening Mrs.Cheveley. I should not fancy Mrs. Cheveley is a woman whowould be easily frightened. She has survived all hercreditors, and she shows wonderful presence of mind.

sir robert chiltern. Oh! Ilive on hopes now. I clutch at every chance. I feellike a man on a ship that is sinking. The water is round myfeet, and the very air is bitter with storm. Hush! I hearmy wife’s voice.

[Enterlady chiltern inwalking dress.]

lady chiltern. Goodafternoon, Lord Goring!

lord goring. Good afternoon,Lady Chiltern! Have you been in the Park?

lady chiltern. No; I havejust come from the Woman’s Liberal Association, where, bythe way, Robert, your name was received with loud applause, andnow I have come in to have my tea. [Tolord goring.] You will wait and havesome tea, won’t you?

lord goring. I’ll waitfor a short time, thanks.

lady chiltern. I will be backin a moment. I am only going to take my hat off.

lord goring. [In his mostearnest manner.] Oh! please don’t. It is sopretty. One of the prettiest hats I ever saw. I hopethe Woman’s Liberal Association received it with loudapplause.

lady chiltern. [With asmile.] We have much more important work to do thanlook at each other’s bonnets, Lord Goring.

lord goring. Really?What sort of work?

lady chiltern. Oh! dull,useful, delightful things, Factory Acts, Female Inspectors, theEight Hours’ Bill, the Parliamentary Franchise. . . .Everything, in fact, that you would find thoroughlyuninteresting.

lord goring. And neverbonnets?

lady chiltern. [With mockindignation.] Never bonnets, never!

[lady chiltern goes out throughthe door leading to her boudoir.]

sir robert chiltern.[Takeslord goring’shand.] You have been a good friend to me, Arthur, athoroughly good friend.

lord goring. I don’tknow that I have been able to do much for you, Robert, asyet. In fact, I have not been able to do anything for you,as far as I can see. I am thoroughly disappointed withmyself.

sir robert chiltern. You haveenabled me to tell you the truth. That is something.The truth has always stifled me.

lord goring. Ah! the truth isa thing I get rid of as soon as possible! Bad habit, by theway. Makes one very unpopular at the club . . . with theolder members. They call it being conceited. Perhapsit is.

sir robert chiltern. I wouldto God that I had been able to tell the truth . . . to live thetruth. Ah! that is the great thing in life, to live thetruth. [Sighs, and goes towards thedoor.] I’ll see you soon again, Arthur,shan’t I?

lord goring. Certainly.Whenever you like. I’m going to look in at theBachelors’ Ball to-night, unless I find something better todo. But I’ll come round to-morrow morning. Ifyou should want me to-night by any chance, send round a note toCurzon Street.

sir robert chiltern. Thankyou.

[As he reaches the door, ladychiltern enters from her boudoir.]

lady chiltern. You are notgoing, Robert?

sir robert chiltern. I havesome letters to write, dear.

lady chiltern. [Going tohim.] You work too hard, Robert. You seem neverto think of yourself, and you are looking so tired.

sir robert chiltern. It isnothing, dear, nothing.

[He kisses her and goes out.]

lady chiltern. [Tolord goring.] Do sit down.I am so glad you have called. I want to talk to you about .. . well, not about bonnets, or the Woman’s LiberalAssociation. You take far too much interest in the firstsubject, and not nearly enough in the second.

lord goring. You want to talkto me about Mrs. Cheveley?

lady chiltern. Yes. Youhave guessed it. After you left last night I found out thatwhat she had said was really true. Of course I made Robertwrite her a letter at once, withdrawing his promise.

lord goring. So he gave me tounderstand.

lady chiltern. To have keptit would have been the first stain on a career that has beenstainless always. Robert must be above reproach. Heis not like other men. He cannot afford to do what othermen do. [She looks atlordgoring, who remains silent.] Don’t youagree with me? You are Robert’s greatestfriend. You are our greatest friend, Lord Goring. Noone, except myself, knows Robert better than you do. He hasno secrets from me, and I don’t think he has any fromyou.

lord goring. He certainly hasno secrets from me. At least I don’t think so.

lady chiltern. Then am I notright in my estimate of him? I know I am right. Butspeak to me frankly.

lord goring. [Lookingstraight at her.] Quite frankly?

lady chiltern. Surely.You have nothing to conceal, have you?

lord goring. Nothing.But, my dear Lady Chiltern, I think, if you will allow me to sayso, that in practical life—

lady chiltern.[Smiling.] Of which you know so little, LordGoring—

lord goring. Of which I knownothing by experience, though I know something byobservation. I think that in practical life there issomething about success, actual success, that is a littleunscrupulous, something about ambition that is unscrupulousalways. Once a man has set his heart and soul on getting toa certain point, if he has to climb the crag, he climbs the crag;if he has to walk in the mire—

lady chiltern. Well?

lord goring. He walks in themire. Of course I am only talking generally about life.

lady chiltern.[Gravely.] I hope so. Why do you look at me sostrangely, Lord Goring?

lord goring. Lady Chiltern, Ihave sometimes thought that . . . perhaps you are a little hardin some of your views on life. I think that . . . often youdon’t make sufficient allowances. In every naturethere are elements of weakness, or worse than weakness.Supposing, for instance, that—that any public man, myfather, or Lord Merton, or Robert, say, had, years ago, writtensome foolish letter to some one . . .

lady chiltern. What do youmean by a foolish letter?

lord goring. A letter gravelycompromising one’s position. I am only putting animaginary case.

lady chiltern. Robert is asincapable of doing a foolish thing as he is of doing a wrongthing.

lord goring. [After a longpause.] Nobody is incapable of doing a foolishthing. Nobody is incapable of doing a wrong thing.

lady chiltern. Are you aPessimist? What will the other dandies say? They willall have to go into mourning.

lord goring.[Rising.] No, Lady Chiltern, I am not aPessimist. Indeed I am not sure that I quite know whatPessimism really means. All I do know is that life cannotbe understood without much charity, cannot be lived without muchcharity. It is love, and not German philosophy, that is thetrue explanation of this world, whatever may be the explanationof the next. And if you are ever in trouble, Lady Chiltern,trust me absolutely, and I will help you in every way Ican. If you ever want me, come to me for my assistance, andyou shall have it. Come at once to me.

lady chiltern. [Looking athim in surprise.] Lord Goring, you are talking quiteseriously. I don’t think I ever heard you talkseriously before.

lord goring.[Laughing.] You must excuse me, Lady Chiltern.It won’t occur again, if I can help it.

lady chiltern. But I like youto be serious.

[Entermabel chiltern, inthe most ravishing frock.]

mabel chiltern. DearGertrude, don’t say such a dreadful thing to LordGoring. Seriousness would be very unbecoming to him.Good afternoon Lord Goring! Pray be as trivial as youcan.

lord goring. I should liketo, Miss Mabel, but I am afraid I am . . . a little out ofpractice this morning; and besides, I have to be going now.

mabel chiltern. Just when Ihave come in! What dreadful manners you have! I amsure you were very badly brought up.

lord goring. I was.

mabel chiltern. I wish I hadbrought you up!

lord goring. I am so sorryyou didn’t.

mabel chiltern. It is toolate now, I suppose?

lord goring.[Smiling.] I am not so sure.

mabel chiltern. Will you rideto-morrow morning?

lord goring. Yes, at ten.

mabel chiltern. Don’tforget.

lord goring. Of course Ishan’t. By the way, Lady Chiltern, there is no listof your guests in The Morning Postof to-day. It hasapparently been crowded out by the County Council, or the LambethConference, or something equally boring. Could you let mehave a list? I have a particular reason for asking you.

lady chiltern. I am sure Mr.Trafford will be able to give you one.

lord goring. Thanks, somuch.

mabel chiltern. Tommy is themost useful person in London.

lord goring [Turning toher.] And who is the most ornamental?

mabel chiltern[Triumphantly.] I am.

lord goring. How clever ofyou to guess it! [Takes up his hat and cane.]Good-bye, Lady Chiltern! You will remember what I said toyou, won’t you?

lady chiltern. Yes; but Idon’t know why you said it to me.

lord goring. I hardly knowmyself. Good-bye, Miss Mabel!

mabel chiltern [With a littlemoue of disappointment.] I wish you were notgoing. I have had four wonderful adventures this morning;four and a half, in fact. You might stop and listen to someof them.

lord goring. How very selfishof you to have four and a half! There won’t be anyleft for me.

mabel chiltern. I don’twant you to have any. They would not be good for you.

lord goring. That is thefirst unkind thing you have ever said to me. How charminglyyou said it! Ten to-morrow.

mabel chiltern. Sharp.

lord goring. Quitesharp. But don’t bring Mr. Trafford.

mabel chiltern. [With alittle toss of the head.] Of course I shan’tbring Tommy Trafford. Tommy Trafford is in greatdisgrace.

lord goring. I am delightedto hear it. [Bows and goes out.]

mabel chiltern. Gertrude, Iwish you would speak to Tommy Trafford.

lady chiltern. What has poorMr. Trafford done this time? Robert says he is the bestsecretary he has ever had.

mabel chiltern. Well, Tommyhas proposed to me again. Tommy really does nothing butpropose to me. He proposed to me last night in themusic-room, when I was quite unprotected, as there was anelaborate trio going on. I didn’t dare to make thesmallest repartee, I need hardly tell you. If I had, itwould have stopped the music at once. Musical people are soabsurdly unreasonable. They always want one to be perfectlydumb at the very moment when one is longing to be absolutelydeaf. Then he proposed to me in broad daylight thismorning, in front of that dreadful statue of Achilles.Really, the things that go on in front of that work of art arequite appalling. The police should interfere. Atluncheon I saw by the glare in his eye that he was going topropose again, and I just managed to check him in time byassuring him that I was a bimetallist. Fortunately Idon’t know what bimetallism means. And I don’tbelieve anybody else does either. But the observationcrushed Tommy for ten minutes. He looked quiteshocked. And then Tommy is so annoying in the way heproposes. If he proposed at the top of his voice, I shouldnot mind so much. That might produce some effect on thepublic. But he does it in a horrid confidential way.When Tommy wants to be romantic he talks to one just like adoctor. I am very fond of Tommy, but his methods ofproposing are quite out of date. I wish, Gertrude, youwould speak to him, and tell him that once a week is quite oftenenough to propose to any one, and that it should always be donein a manner that attracts some attention.

lady chiltern. Dear Mabel,don’t talk like that. Besides, Robert thinks veryhighly of Mr. Trafford. He believes he has a brilliantfuture before him.

mabel chiltern. Oh! Iwouldn’t marry a man with a future before him for anythingunder the sun.

lady chiltern. Mabel!

mabel chiltern. I know,dear. You married a man with a future, didn’tyou? But then Robert was a genius, and you have a noble,self-sacrificing character. You can stand geniuses. Ihave no character at all, and Robert is the only genius I couldever bear. As a rule, I think they are quiteimpossible. Geniuses talk so much, don’t they?Such a bad habit! And they are always thinking aboutthemselves, when I want them to be thinking about me. Imust go round now and rehearse at Lady Basildon’s.You remember, we are having tableaux, don’t you? TheTriumph of something, I don’t know what! I hope itwill be triumph of me. Only triumph I am really interestedin at present. [Kissesladychiltern and goes out; then comes runningback.] Oh, Gertrude, do you know who is coming to seeyou? That dreadful Mrs. Cheveley, in a most lovelygown. Did you ask her?

lady chiltern.[Rising.] Mrs. Cheveley! Coming to seeme? Impossible!

mabel chiltern. I assure youshe is coming upstairs, as large as life and not nearly sonatural.

lady chiltern. You need notwait, Mabel. Remember, Lady Basildon is expecting you.

mabel chiltern. Oh! I mustshake hands with Lady Markby. She is delightful. Ilove being scolded by her.

[Entermason.]

mason. Lady Markby.Mrs. Cheveley.

[Enterlady markbyandmrs. cheveley.]

lady chiltern. [Advancingto meet them.] Dear Lady Markby, how nice of you tocome and see me! [Shakes hands with her, and bowssomewhat distantly tomrs.cheveley.] Won’t you sit down, Mrs.Cheveley?

mrs. cheveley. Thanks.Isn’t that Miss Chiltern? I should like so much toknow her.

lady chiltern. Mabel, Mrs.Cheveley wishes to know you.

[mabel chiltern gives a littlenod.]

mrs. cheveley [Sittingdown.] I thought your frock so charming last night,Miss Chiltern. So simple and . . . suitable.

mabel chiltern. Really?I must tell my dressmaker. It will be such a surprise toher. Good-bye, Lady Markby!

lady markby. Goingalready?

mabel chiltern. I am so sorrybut I am obliged to. I am just off to rehearsal. Ihave got to stand on my head in some tableaux.

lady markby. On your head,child? Oh! I hope not. I believe it is mostunhealthy. [Takes a seat on the sofa nextlady chiltern.]

mabel chiltern. But it is foran excellent charity: in aid of the Undeserving, the only peopleI am really interested in. I am the secretary, and TommyTrafford is treasurer.

mrs. cheveley. And what isLord Goring?

mabel chiltern. Oh! LordGoring is president.

mrs. cheveley. The postshould suit him admirably, unless he has deteriorated since Iknew him first.

lady markby.[Reflecting.] You are remarkably modern,Mabel. A little too modern, perhaps. Nothing is sodangerous as being too modern. One is apt to growold-fashioned quite suddenly. I have known many instancesof it.

mabel chiltern. What adreadful prospect!

lady markby. Ah! my dear, youneed not be nervous. You will always be as pretty aspossible. That is the best fashion there is, and the onlyfashion that England succeeds in setting.

mabel chiltern. [With acurtsey.] Thank you so much, Lady Markby, for England .. . and myself. [Goes out.]

lady markby. [Turningtolady chiltern.] DearGertrude, we just called to know if Mrs. Cheveley’s diamondbrooch has been found.

lady chiltern. Here?

mrs. cheveley. Yes. Imissed it when I got back to Claridge’s, and I thought Imight possibly have dropped it here.

lady chiltern. I have heardnothing about it. But I will send for the butler andask. [Touches the bell.]

mrs. cheveley. Oh, praydon’t trouble, Lady Chiltern. I dare say I lost it atthe Opera, before we came on here.

lady markby. Ah yes, Isuppose it must have been at the Opera. The fact is, we allscramble and jostle so much nowadays that I wonder we haveanything at all left on us at the end of an evening. I knowmyself that, when I am coming back from the Drawing Room, Ialways feel as if I hadn’t a shred on me, except a smallshred of decent reputation, just enough to prevent the lowerclasses making painful observations through the windows of thecarriage. The fact is that our Society is terriblyover-populated. Really, some one should arrange a properscheme of assisted emigration. It would do a great deal ofgood.

mrs. cheveley. I quite agreewith you, Lady Markby. It is nearly six years since I havebeen in London for the Season, and I must say Society has becomedreadfully mixed. One sees the oddest peopleeverywhere.

lady markby. That is quitetrue, dear. But one needn’t know them.I’m sure I don’t know half the people who come to myhouse. Indeed, from all I hear, I shouldn’t liketo.

[Entermason.]

lady chiltern. What sort of abrooch was it that you lost, Mrs. Cheveley?

mrs. cheveley. A diamondsnake-brooch with a ruby, a rather large ruby.

lady markby. I thought yousaid there was a sapphire on the head, dear?

mrs. cheveley[Smiling.] No, lady Markby—a ruby.

lady markby. [Nodding herhead.] And very becoming, I am quite sure.

lady chiltern. Has a ruby anddiamond brooch been found in any of the rooms this morning,Mason?

mason. No, my lady.

mrs. cheveley. It really isof no consequence, Lady Chiltern. I am so sorry to have putyou to any inconvenience.

lady chiltern.[Coldly.] Oh, it has been no inconvenience.That will do, Mason. You can bring tea.

[Exitmason.]

lady markby. Well, I must sayit is most annoying to lose anything. I remember once atBath, years ago, losing in the Pump Room an exceedingly handsomecameo bracelet that Sir John had given me. I don’tthink he has ever given me anything since, I am sorry tosay. He has sadly degenerated. Really, this horridHouse of Commons quite ruins our husbands for us. I thinkthe Lower House by far the greatest blow to a happy married lifethat there has been since that terrible thing called the HigherEducation of Women was invented.

lady chiltern. Ah! it isheresy to say that in this house, Lady Markby. Robert is agreat champion of the Higher Education of Women, and so, I amafraid, am I.

mrs. cheveley. The highereducation of men is what I should like to see. Men need itso sadly.

lady markby. They do,dear. But I am afraid such a scheme would be quiteunpractical. I don’t think man has much capacity fordevelopment. He has got as far as he can, and that is notfar, is it? With regard to women, well, dear Gertrude, youbelong to the younger generation, and I am sure it is all rightif you approve of it. In my time, of course, we were taughtnot to understand anything. That was the old system, andwonderfully interesting it was. I assure you that theamount of things I and my poor dear sister were taught not tounderstand was quite extraordinary. But modern womenunderstand everything, I am told.

mrs. cheveley. Except theirhusbands. That is the one thing the modern woman neverunderstands.

lady markby. And a very goodthing too, dear, I dare say. It might break up many a happyhome if they did. Not yours, I need hardly say,Gertrude. You have married a pattern husband. I wishI could say as much for myself. But since Sir John hastaken to attending the debates regularly, which he never used todo in the good old days, his language has become quiteimpossible. He always seems to think that he is addressingthe House, and consequently whenever he discusses the state ofthe agricultural labourer, or the Welsh Church, or somethingquite improper of that kind, I am obliged to send all theservants out of the room. It is not pleasant to seeone’s own butler, who has been with one for twenty-threeyears, actually blushing at the side-board, and the footmenmaking contortions in corners like persons in circuses. Iassure you my life will be quite ruined unless they send John atonce to the Upper House. He won’t take any interestin politics then, will he? The House of Lords is sosensible. An assembly of gentlemen. But in hispresent state, Sir John is really a great trial. Why, thismorning before breakfast was half over, he stood up on thehearthrug, put his hands in his pockets, and appealed to thecountry at the top of his voice. I left the table as soonas I had my second cup of tea, I need hardly say. But hisviolent language could be heard all over the house! Itrust, Gertrude, that Sir Robert is not like that?

lady chiltern. But I am verymuch interested in politics, Lady Markby. I love to hearRobert talk about them.

lady markby. Well, I hope heis not as devoted to Blue Books as Sir John is. Idon’t think they can be quite improving reading for anyone.

mrs. cheveley[Languidly.] I have never read a Blue Book. Iprefer books . . . in yellow covers.

lady markby. [Geniallyunconscious.] Yellow is a gayer colour, is itnot? I used to wear yellow a good deal in my early days,and would do so now if Sir John was not so painfully personal inhis observations, and a man on the question of dress is alwaysridiculous, is he not?

mrs. cheveley. Oh, no!I think men are the only authorities on dress.

lady markby. Really?One wouldn’t say so from the sort of hats they wear? wouldone?

[The butler enters, followed by thefootman. Tea is set on a small table close tolady chiltern.]

lady chiltern. May I give yousome tea, Mrs. Cheveley?

mrs. cheveley. Thanks.[The butler handsmrs. cheveleya cup of tea on a salver.]

lady chiltern. Some tea, LadyMarkby?

lady markby. No thanks,dear. [The servants go out.] The fact is, Ihave promised to go round for ten minutes to see poor LadyBrancaster, who is in very great trouble. Her daughter,quite a well-brought-up girl, too, has actually become engaged tobe married to a curate in Shropshire. It is very sad, verysad indeed. I can’t understand this modern mania forcurates. In my time we girls saw them, of course, runningabout the place like rabbits. But we never took any noticeof them, I need hardly say. But I am told that nowadayscountry society is quite honeycombed with them. I think itmost irreligious. And then the eldest son has quarrelledwith his father, and it is said that when they meet at the clubLord Brancaster always hides himself behind the money article inThe Times. However, I believe that is quite a commonoccurrence nowadays and that they have to take in extra copies ofThe Timesat all the clubs in St. James’s Street;there are so many sons who won’t have anything to do withtheir fathers, and so many fathers who won’t speak to theirsons. I think myself, it is very much to be regretted.

mrs. cheveley. So do I.Fathers have so much to learn from their sons nowadays.

lady markby. Really,dear? What?

mrs. cheveley. The art ofliving. The only really Fine Art we have produced in moderntimes.

lady markby. [Shaking herhead.] Ah! I am afraid Lord Brancaster knew agood deal about that. More than his poor wife everdid. [Turning toladychiltern.] You know Lady Brancaster, don’tyou, dear?

lady chiltern. Justslightly. She was staying at Langton last autumn, when wewere there.

lady markby. Well, like allstout women, she looks the very picture of happiness, as no doubtyou noticed. But there are many tragedies in her family,besides this affair of the curate. Her own sister, Mrs.Jekyll, had a most unhappy life; through no fault of her own, Iam sorry to say. She ultimately was so broken-hearted thatshe went into a convent, or on to the operatic stage, I forgetwhich. No; I think it was decorative art-needlework shetook up. I know she had lost all sense of pleasure inlife. [Rising.] And now, Gertrude, if you willallow me, I shall leave Mrs. Cheveley in your charge and callback for her in a quarter of an hour. Or perhaps, dear Mrs.Cheveley, you wouldn’t mind waiting in the carriage while Iam with Lady Brancaster. As I intend it to be a visit ofcondolence, I shan’t stay long.

mrs. cheveley[Rising.] I don’t mind waiting in the carriageat all, provided there is somebody to look at one.

lady markby. Well, I hear thecurate is always prowling about the house.

mrs. cheveley. I am afraid Iam not fond of girl friends.

lady chiltern[Rising.] Oh, I hope Mrs. Cheveley will stay here alittle. I should like to have a few minutes’conversation with her.

mrs. cheveley. How very kindof you, Lady Chiltern! Believe me, nothing would give megreater pleasure.

lady markby. Ah! no doubt youboth have many pleasant reminiscences of your schooldays to talkover together. Good-bye, dear Gertrude! Shall I seeyou at Lady Bonar’s to-night? She has discovered awonderful new genius. He does . . . nothing at all, Ibelieve. That is a great comfort, is it not?

lady chiltern. Robert and Iare dining at home by ourselves to-night, and I don’t thinkI shall go anywhere afterwards. Robert, of course, willhave to be in the House. But there is nothing interestingon.

lady markby. Dining at homeby yourselves? Is that quite prudent? Ah, I forgot,your husband is an exception. Mine is the general rule, andnothing ages a woman so rapidly as having married the generalrule. [Exitladymarkby.]

mrs. cheveley. Wonderfulwoman, Lady Markby, isn’t she? Talks more and saysless than anybody I ever met. She is made to be a publicspeaker. Much more so than her husband, though he is atypical Englishman, always dull and usually violent.

lady chiltern. [Makes noanswer, but remains standing. There is apause. Then the eyes of the two womenmeet. lady chiltern looksstern and pale. mrs.cheveley seem rather amused.] Mrs. Cheveley,I think it is right to tell you quite frankly that, had I knownwho you really were, I should not have invited you to my houselast night.

mrs. cheveley [With animpertinent smile.] Really?

lady chiltern. I could nothave done so.

mrs. cheveley. I see thatafter all these years you have not changed a bit, Gertrude.

lady chiltern. I neverchange.

mrs. cheveley [Elevating hereyebrows.] Then life has taught you nothing?

lady chiltern. It has taughtme that a person who has once been guilty of a dishonest anddishonourable action may be guilty of it a second time, andshould be shunned.

mrs. cheveley. Would youapply that rule to every one?

lady chiltern. Yes, to everyone, without exception.

mrs. cheveley. Then I amsorry for you, Gertrude, very sorry for you.

lady chiltern. You see now, Iwas sure, that for many reasons any further acquaintance betweenus during your stay in London is quite impossible?

mrs. cheveley [Leaning back inher chair.] Do you know, Gertrude, I don’t mindyour talking morality a bit. Morality is simply theattitude we adopt towards people whom we personallydislike. You dislike me. I am quite aware ofthat. And I have always detested you. And yet I havecome here to do you a service.

lady chiltern.[Contemptuously.] Like the service you wished torender my husband last night, I suppose. Thank heaven, Isaved him from that.

mrs. cheveley. [Startingto her feet.] It was you who made him write thatinsolent letter to me? It was you who made him break hispromise?

lady chiltern. Yes.

mrs. cheveley. Then you mustmake him keep it. I give you till to-morrowmorning—no more. If by that time your husband doesnot solemnly bind himself to help me in this great scheme inwhich I am interested—

lady chiltern. Thisfraudulent speculation—

mrs. cheveley. Call it whatyou choose. I hold your husband in the hollow of my hand,and if you are wise you will make him do what I tell him.

lady chiltern. [Rising andgoing towards her.] You are impertinent. What hasmy husband to do with you? With a woman like you?

mrs. cheveley [With a bitterlaugh.] In this world like meets with like. It isbecause your husband is himself fraudulent and dishonest that wepair so well together. Between you and him there arechasms. He and I are closer than friends. We areenemies linked together. The same sin binds us.

lady chiltern. How dare youclass my husband with yourself? How dare you threaten himor me? Leave my house. You are unfit to enter it.

[sir robert chiltern enters frombehind. He hears his wife’s last words,and sees to whom they are addressed. He growsdeadly pale.]

mrs. cheveley. Yourhouse! A house bought with the price of dishonour. Ahouse, everything in which has been paid for by fraud.[Turns round and seessir robertchiltern.] Ask him what the origin of his fortuneis! Get him to tell you how he sold to a stockbroker aCabinet secret. Learn from him to what you owe yourposition.

lady chiltern. It is nottrue! Robert! It is not true!

mrs. cheveley. [Pointingat him with outstretched finger.] Look at him!Can he deny it? Does he dare to?

sir robert chiltern.Go! Go at once. You have done your worst now.

mrs. cheveley. Myworst? I have not yet finished with you, with either ofyou. I give you both till to-morrow at noon. If bythen you don’t do what I bid you to do, the whole worldshall know the origin of Robert Chiltern.

[sir robert chiltern strikes thebell. Entermason.]

sir robert chiltern. ShowMrs. Cheveley out.

[mrs. cheveley starts;then bows with somewhat exaggerated politeness tolady chiltern, who makes no sign ofresponse. As she passes bysir robert chiltern, who is standingclose to the door, she pauses for a moment and looks himstraight in the face. She then goes out,followed by the servant, who closes the door afterhim. The husband and wife are left alone.lady chiltern stands like some onein a dreadful dream. Then she turns round and looksat her husband. She looks at him with strangeeyes, as though she were seeing him for the firsttime.]

lady chiltern. You sold aCabinet secret for money! You began your life withfraud! You built up your career on dishonour! Oh,tell me it is not true! Lie to me! Lie to me!Tell me it is not true!

sir robert chiltern. Whatthis woman said is quite true. But, Gertrude, listen tome. You don’t realise how I was tempted. Let metell you the whole thing. [Goes towards her.]

lady chiltern. Don’tcome near me. Don’t touch me. I feel as if youhad soiled me for ever. Oh! what a mask you have beenwearing all these years! A horrible painted mask! Yousold yourself for money. Oh! a common thief werebetter. You put yourself up to sale to the highestbidder! You were bought in the market. You lied tothe whole world. And yet you will not lie to me.

sir robert chiltern.[Rushing towards her.] Gertrude! Gertrude!

lady chiltern. [Thrustinghim back with outstretched hands.] No, don’tspeak! Say nothing! Your voice wakes terriblememories—memories of things that made me loveyou—memories of words that made me love you—memoriesthat now are horrible to me. And how I worshippedyou! You were to me something apart from common life, athing pure, noble, honest, without stain. The world seemedto me finer because you were in it, and goodness more realbecause you lived. And now—oh, when I think that Imade of a man like you my ideal! the ideal of my life!

sir robert chiltern. Therewas your mistake. There was your error. The error allwomen commit. Why can’t you women love us, faults andall? Why do you place us on monstrous pedestals? Wehave all feet of clay, women as well as men; but when we men lovewomen, we love them knowing their weaknesses, their follies,their imperfections, love them all the more, it may be, for thatreason. It is not the perfect, but the imperfect, who haveneed of love. It is when we are wounded by our own hands,or by the hands of others, that love should come to cureus—else what use is love at all? All sins, except asin against itself, Love should forgive. All lives, saveloveless lives, true Love should pardon. A man’s loveis like that. It is wider, larger, more human than awoman’s. Women think that they are making ideals ofmen. What they are making of us are false idolsmerely. You made your false idol of me, and I had not thecourage to come down, show you my wounds, tell you myweaknesses. I was afraid that I might lose your love, as Ihave lost it now. And so, last night you ruined my life forme—yes, ruined it! What this woman asked of me wasnothing compared to what she offered to me. She offeredsecurity, peace, stability. The sin of my youth, that I hadthought was buried, rose up in front of me, hideous, horrible,with its hands at my throat. I could have killed it forever, sent it back into its tomb, destroyed its record, burnedthe one witness against me. You prevented me. No onebut you, you know it. And now what is there before me butpublic disgrace, ruin, terrible shame, the mockery of the world,a lonely dishonoured life, a lonely dishonoured death, it may be,some day? Let women make no more ideals of men! let themnot put them on altars and bow before them, or they may ruinother lives as completely as you—you whom I have so wildlyloved—have ruined mine!

[He passes from the room. lady chiltern rushes towards him,but the door is closed when she reaches it. Palewith anguish, bewildered, helpless, shesways like a plant in the water. Her hands,outstretched, seem to tremble in the air like blossomsin the wind. Then she flings herself down beside asofa and buries her face. Her sobs are like the sobsof a child.]

ActDrop.

THIRD ACT

SCENE

The Library in Lord Goring’s house. AnAdam room. On the right is the door leading into thehall. On the left, the door of thesmoking-room. A pair of folding doors at the backopen into the drawing-room. The fire islit. Phipps, the butler, is arrangingsome newspapers on the writing-table. Thedistinction of Phipps is his impassivity. He has beentermed by enthusiasts the Ideal Butler. The Sphinxis not so incommunicable. He is a mask with amanner. Of his intellectual or emotional life,history knows nothing. He represents thedominance of form.

[Enterlord goring inevening dress with a buttonhole. He is wearing asilk hat and Inverness cape. White-gloved, hecarries a Louis Seize cane. His are all the delicatefopperies of Fashion. One sees that he stands inimmediate relation to modern life, makes it indeed,and so masters it. He is the first well-dressedphilosopher in the history of thought.]

lord goring. Got my secondbuttonhole for me, Phipps?

phipps. Yes, my lord.[Takes his hat, cane, and cape, andpresents new buttonhole on salver.]

lord goring. Ratherdistinguished thing, Phipps. I am the only person of thesmallest importance in London at present who wears abuttonhole.

phipps. Yes, my lord. Ihave observed that.

lord goring. [Taking outold buttonhole.] You see, Phipps, Fashion is what onewears oneself. What is unfashionable is what other peoplewear.

phipps. Yes, my lord.

lord goring. Just asvulgarity is simply the conduct of other people.

phipps. Yes, my lord.

lord goring. [Putting in anew buttonhole.] And falsehoods the truths of otherpeople.

phipps. Yes, my lord.

lord goring. Other people arequite dreadful. The only possible society is oneself.

phipps. Yes, my lord.

lord goring. To love oneselfis the beginning of a lifelong romance, Phipps.

phipps. Yes, my lord.

lord goring. [Looking athimself in the glass.] Don’t think I quite likethis buttonhole, Phipps. Makes me look a little tooold. Makes me almost in the prime of life, eh, Phipps?

phipps. I don’t observeany alteration in your lordship’s appearance.

lord goring. You don’t,Phipps?

phipps. No, my lord.

lord goring. I am not quitesure. For the future a more trivial buttonhole, Phipps, onThursday evenings.

phipps. I will speak to theflorist, my lord. She has had a loss in her family lately,which perhaps accounts for the lack of triviality your lordshipcomplains of in the buttonhole.

lord goring. Extraordinarything about the lower classes in England—they are alwayslosing their relations.

phipps. Yes, my lord!They are extremely fortunate in that respect.

lord goring. [Turns roundand looks at him. phippsremains impassive.] Hum! Any letters,Phipps?

phipps. Three, my lord.[Hands letters on a salver.]

lord goring. [Takesletters.] Want my cab round in twenty minutes.

phipps. Yes, my lord.[Goes towards door.]

lord goring. [Holds upletter in pink envelope.] Ahem! Phipps, when didthis letter arrive?

phipps. It was brought byhand just after your lordship went to the club.

lord goring. That willdo. [Exitphipps.]Lady Chiltern’s handwriting on Lady Chiltern’s pinknotepaper. That is rather curious. I thought Robertwas to write. Wonder what Lady Chiltern has got to say tome? [Sits at bureau and opens letter, and readsit.] ‘I want you. I trust you. I amcoming to you. Gertrude.’ [Puts down theletter with a puzzled look. Then takes it up,and reads it again slowly.] ‘I want you.I trust you. I am coming to you.’ So she hasfound out everything! Poor woman! Poor woman! [Pulls out watch and looks at it.] But what an hourto call! Ten o’clock! I shall have to give upgoing to the Berkshires. However, it is always nice to beexpected, and not to arrive. I am not expected at theBachelors’, so I shall certainly go there. Well, Iwill make her stand by her husband. That is the only thingfor her to do. That is the only thing for any woman todo. It is the growth of the moral sense in women that makesmarriage such a hopeless, one-sided institution. Teno’clock. She should be here soon. I must tellPhipps I am not in to any one else. [Goes towardsbell.]

[Enterphipps.]

phipps. Lord Caversham.

lord goring. Oh, why willparents always appear at the wrong time? Some extraordinarymistake in nature, I suppose. [Enterlord caversham.] Delighted to see you,my dear father. [Goes to meet him.]

lord caversham. Take my cloakoff.

lord goring. Is it worthwhile, father?

lord caversham. Of course itis worth while, sir. Which is the most comfortablechair?

lord goring. This one,father. It is the chair I use myself, when I havevisitors.

lord caversham. Thankye. No draught, I hope, in this room?

lord goring. No, father.

lord caversham. [Sittingdown.] Glad to hear it. Can’t standdraughts. No draughts at home.

lord goring. Good manybreezes, father.

lord caversham. Eh?Eh? Don’t understand what you mean. Want tohave a serious conversation with you, sir.

lord goring. My dearfather! At this hour?

lord caversham. Well, sir, itis only ten o’clock. What is your objection to thehour? I think the hour is an admirable hour!

lord goring. Well, the factis, father, this is not my day for talking seriously. I amvery sorry, but it is not my day.

lord caversham. What do youmean, sir?

lord goring. During theSeason, father, I only talk seriously on the first Tuesday inevery month, from four to seven.

lord caversham. Well, make itTuesday, sir, make it Tuesday.

lord goring. But it is afterseven, father, and my doctor says I must not have any seriousconversation after seven. It makes me talk in my sleep.

lord caversham. Talk in yoursleep, sir? What does that matter? You are notmarried.

lord goring. No, father, I amnot married.

lord caversham. Hum!That is what I have come to talk to you about, sir. Youhave got to get married, and at once. Why, when I was yourage, sir, I had been an inconsolable widower for three months,and was already paying my addresses to your admirablemother. Damme, sir, it is your duty to get married.You can’t be always living for pleasure. Every man ofposition is married nowadays. Bachelors are not fashionableany more. They are a damaged lot. Too much is knownabout them. You must get a wife, sir. Look where yourfriend Robert Chiltern has got to by probity, hard work, and asensible marriage with a good woman. Why don’t youimitate him, sir? Why don’t you take him for yourmodel?

lord goring. I think I shall,father.

lord caversham. I wish youwould, sir. Then I should be happy. At present I makeyour mother’s life miserable on your account. You areheartless, sir, quite heartless.

lord goring. I hope not,father.

lord caversham. And it ishigh time for you to get married. You are thirty-four yearsof age, sir.

lord goring. Yes, father, butI only admit to thirty-two—thirty-one and a half when Ihave a really good buttonhole. This buttonhole is not . . .trivial enough.

lord caversham. I tell youyou are thirty-four, sir. And there is a draught in yourroom, besides, which makes your conduct worse. Why did youtell me there was no draught, sir? I feel a draught, sir, Ifeel it distinctly.

lord goring. So do I,father. It is a dreadful draught. I will come and seeyou to-morrow, father. We can talk over anything youlike. Let me help you on with your cloak, father.

lord caversham. No, sir; Ihave called this evening for a definite purpose, and I am goingto see it through at all costs to my health or yours. Putdown my cloak, sir.

lord goring. Certainly,father. But let us go into another room. [Ringsbell.] There is a dreadful draught here.[Enterphipps.] Phipps,is there a good fire in the smoking-room?

phipps. Yes, my lord.

lord goring. Come in there,father. Your sneezes are quite heartrending.

lord caversham. Well, sir, Isuppose I have a right to sneeze when I choose?

lord goring.[Apologetically.] Quite so, father. I wasmerely expressing sympathy.

lord caversham. Oh, damnsympathy. There is a great deal too much of that sort ofthing going on nowadays.

lord goring. I quite agreewith you, father. If there was less sympathy in the worldthere would be less trouble in the world.

lord caversham. [Goingtowards the smoking-room.] That is a paradox,sir. I hate paradoxes.

lord goring. So do I,father. Everybody one meets is a paradox nowadays. Itis a great bore. It makes society so obvious.

lord caversham. [Turninground, and looking at his son beneath his bushyeyebrows.] Do you always really understand what yousay, sir?

lord goring. [After somehesitation.] Yes, father, if I listen attentively.

lord caversham.[Indignantly.] If you listen attentively! . . .Conceited young puppy!

[Goes off grumbling into the smoking-room. phipps enters.]

lord goring. Phipps, there isa lady coming to see me this evening on particularbusiness. Show her into the drawing-room when shearrives. You understand?

phipps. Yes, my lord.

lord goring. It is a matterof the gravest importance, Phipps.

phipps. I understand, mylord.

lord goring. No one else isto be admitted, under any circumstances.

phipps. I understand, mylord. [Bell rings.]

lord goring. Ah! that isprobably the lady. I shall see her myself.

[Just as he is going towards the doorlord caversham enters from thesmoking-room.]

lord caversham. Well, sir? amI to wait attendance on you?

lord goring. [Considerablyperplexed.] In a moment, father. Do excuseme. [lord caversham goesback.] Well, remember my instructions,Phipps—into that room.

phipps. Yes, my lord.

[lord goring goes into thesmoking-room. harold, thefootman showsmrs. cheveleyin. Lamia-like, she is in green andsilver. She has a cloak of black satin, linedwith dead rose-leaf silk.]

harold. What name, madam?

mrs. cheveley. [Tophipps, who advances towardsher.] Is Lord Goring not here? I was told he wasat home?

phipps. His lordship isengaged at present with Lord Caversham, madam.

[Turns a cold, glassy eye onharold, who at once retires.]

mrs. cheveley. [Toherself.] How very filial!

phipps. His lordship told meto ask you, madam, to be kind enough to wait in the drawing-roomfor him. His lordship will come to you there.

mrs. cheveley. [With alook of surprise.] Lord Goring expects me?

phipps. Yes, madam.

mrs. cheveley. Are you quitesure?

phipps. His lordship told methat if a lady called I was to ask her to wait in thedrawing-room. [Goes to the door of the drawing-room andopens it.] His lordship’s directions on thesubject were very precise.

mrs. cheveley. [Toherself] How thoughtful of him! To expect theunexpected shows a thoroughly modern intellect. [Goestowards the drawing-room and looks in.] Ugh! Howdreary a bachelor’s drawing-room always looks. Ishall have to alter all this. [phipps brings the lamp from thewriting-table.] No, I don’t care for thatlamp. It is far too glaring. Light some candles.

phipps. [Replaceslamp.] Certainly, madam.

mrs. cheveley. I hope thecandles have very becoming shades.

phipps. We have had nocomplaints about them, madam, as yet.

[Passes into the drawing-room and begins to light thecandles.]

mrs. cheveley. [Toherself.] I wonder what woman he is waiting forto-night. It will be delightful to catch him. Menalways look so silly when they are caught. And they arealways being caught. [Looks about room and approachesthe writing-table.] What a very interesting room!What a very interesting picture! Wonder what hiscorrespondence is like. [Takes up letters.]Oh, what a very uninteresting correspondence! Bills andcards, debts and dowagers! Who on earth writes to him onpink paper? How silly to write on pink paper! Itlooks like the beginning of a middle-class romance. Romanceshould never begin with sentiment. It should begin withscience and end with a settlement. [Puts letterdown, then takes it up again.] I know thathandwriting. That is Gertrude Chiltern’s. Iremember it perfectly. The ten commandments in every strokeof the pen, and the moral law all over the page. Wonderwhat Gertrude is writing to him about? Something horridabout me, I suppose. How I detest that woman![Reads it.] ‘I trust you. I wantyou. I am coming to you. Gertrude.’‘I trust you. I want you. I am coming toyou.’

[A look of triumph comes over her face. She isjust about to steal the letter, whenphipps comes in.]

phipps. The candles in thedrawing-room are lit, madam, as you directed.

mrs. cheveley. Thankyou. [Rises hastily and slips the letter under a largesilver-cased blotting-book that is lying on the table.]

phipps. I trust the shadeswill be to your liking, madam. They are the most becomingwe have. They are the same as his lordship uses himselfwhen he is dressing for dinner.

mrs. cheveley. [With asmile.] Then I am sure they will be perfectlyright.

phipps.[Gravely.] Thank you, madam.

[mrs. cheveley goes into thedrawing-room. phippscloses the door and retires. The door is thenslowly opened, andmrs.cheveley comes out and creeps stealthily towards thewriting-table. Suddenly voices are heard from thesmoking-room. mrs. cheveleygrows pale, and stops. The voices growlouder, and she goes back into the drawing-room,biting her lip.]

[Enterlord goringandlord caversham.]

lord goring.[Expostulating.] My dear father, if I am to getmarried, surely you will allow me to choose the time, place, andperson? Particularly the person.

lord caversham.[Testily.] That is a matter for me, sir. Youwould probably make a very poor choice. It is I who shouldbe consulted, not you. There is property at stake. Itis not a matter for affection. Affection comes later on inmarried life.

lord goring. Yes. Inmarried life affection comes when people thoroughly dislike eachother, father, doesn’t it? [Puts onlord caversham’s cloak forhim.]

lord caversham. Certainly,sir. I mean certainly not, sir. You are talking veryfoolishly to-night. What I say is that marriage is a matterfor common sense.

lord goring. But women whohave common sense are so curiously plain, father, aren’tthey? Of course I only speak from hearsay.

lord caversham. No woman,plain or pretty, has any common sense at all, sir. Commonsense is the privilege of our sex.

lord goring. Quite so.And we men are so self-sacrificing that we never use it, do we,father?

lord caversham. I use it,sir. I use nothing else.

lord goring. So my mothertells me.

lord caversham. It is thesecret of your mother’s happiness. You are veryheartless, sir, very heartless.

lord goring. I hope not,father.

[Goes out for a moment. Then returns,looking rather put out, withsir robert chiltern.]

sir robert chiltern. My dearArthur, what a piece of good luck meeting you on thedoorstep! Your servant had just told me you were not athome. How extraordinary!

lord goring. The fact is, Iam horribly busy to-night, Robert, and I gave orders I was not athome to any one. Even my father had a comparatively coldreception. He complained of a draught the whole time.

sir robert chiltern. Ah! youmust be at home to me, Arthur. You are my bestfriend. Perhaps by to-morrow you will be my onlyfriend. My wife has discovered everything.

lord goring. Ah! I guessed asmuch!

sir robert chiltern.[Looking at him.] Really! How?

lord goring. [After somehesitation.] Oh, merely by something in the expressionof your face as you came in. Who told her?

sir robert chiltern. Mrs.Cheveley herself. And the woman I love knows that I beganmy career with an act of low dishonesty, that I built up my lifeupon sands of shame—that I sold, like a common huckster,the secret that had been intrusted to me as a man ofhonour. I thank heaven poor Lord Radley died withoutknowing that I betrayed him. I would to God I had diedbefore I had been so horribly tempted, or had fallen solow. [Burying his face in his hands.]

lord goring. [After apause.] You have heard nothing from Vienna yet, inanswer to your wire?

sir robert chiltern.[Looking up.] Yes; I got a telegram from the firstsecretary at eight o’clock to-night.

lord goring. Well?

sir robert chiltern. Nothingis absolutely known against her. On the contrary, sheoccupies a rather high position in society. It is a sort ofopen secret that Baron Arnheim left her the greater portion ofhis immense fortune. Beyond that I can learn nothing.

lord goring. Shedoesn’t turn out to be a spy, then?

sir robert chiltern. Oh!spies are of no use nowadays. Their profession isover. The newspapers do their work instead.

lord goring. And thunderinglywell they do it.

sir robert chiltern. Arthur,I am parched with thirst. May I ring for something?Some hock and seltzer?

lord goring. Certainly.Let me. [Rings the bell.]

sir robert chiltern.Thanks! I don’t know what to do, Arthur, Idon’t know what to do, and you are my only friend.But what a friend you are—the one friend I can trust.I can trust you absolutely, can’t I?

[Enterphipps.]

lord goring. My dear Robert,of course. Oh! [Tophipps.] Bring some hock andseltzer.

phipps. Yes, my lord.

lord goring. And Phipps!

phipps. Yes, my lord.

lord goring. Will you excuseme for a moment, Robert? I want to give some directions tomy servant.

sir robert chiltern.Certainly.

lord goring. When that ladycalls, tell her that I am not expected home this evening.Tell her that I have been suddenly called out of town. Youunderstand?

phipps. The lady is in thatroom, my lord. You told me to show her into that room, mylord.

lord goring. You didperfectly right. [Exitphipps.] What a mess I am in.No; I think I shall get through it. I’ll give her alecture through the door. Awkward thing to manage,though.

sir robert chiltern. Arthur,tell me what I should do. My life seems to have crumbledabout me. I am a ship without a rudder in a night without astar.

lord goring. Robert, you loveyour wife, don’t you?

sir robert chiltern. I loveher more than anything in the world. I used to thinkambition the great thing. It is not. Love is thegreat thing in the world. There is nothing but love, and Ilove her. But I am defamed in her eyes. I am ignoblein her eyes. There is a wide gulf between us now. Shehas found me out, Arthur, she has found me out.

lord goring. Has she never inher life done some folly—some indiscretion—that sheshould not forgive your sin?

sir robert chiltern. Mywife! Never! She does not know what weakness ortemptation is. I am of clay like other men. Shestands apart as good women do—pitiless in herperfection—cold and stern and without mercy. But Ilove her, Arthur. We are childless, and I have no one elseto love, no one else to love me. Perhaps if God had sent uschildren she might have been kinder to me. But God hasgiven us a lonely house. And she has cut my heart intwo. Don’t let us talk of it. I was brutal toher this evening. But I suppose when sinners talk to saintsthey are brutal always. I said to her things that werehideously true, on my side, from my stand-point, from thestandpoint of men. But don’t let us talk of that.

lord goring. Your wife willforgive you. Perhaps at this moment she is forgivingyou. She loves you, Robert. Why should she notforgive?

sir robert chiltern. Godgrant it! God grant it! [Buries his face in hishands.] But there is something more I have to tell you,Arthur.

[Enterphipps withdrinks.]

phipps. [Hands hock andseltzer tosir robertchiltern.] Hock and seltzer, sir.

sir robert chiltern. Thankyou.

lord goring. Is your carriagehere, Robert?

sir robert chiltern. No; Iwalked from the club.

lord goring. Sir Robert willtake my cab, Phipps.

phipps. Yes, my lord.[Exit.]

lord goring. Robert, youdon’t mind my sending you away?

sir robert chiltern. Arthur,you must let me stay for five minutes. I have made up mymind what I am going to do to-night in the House. Thedebate on the Argentine Canal is to begin at eleven. [Achair falls in the drawing-room.] What is that?

lord goring. Nothing.

sir robert chiltern. I hearda chair fall in the next room. Some one has beenlistening.

lord goring. No, no; there isno one there.

sir robert chiltern. There issome one. There are lights in the room, and the door isajar. Some one has been listening to every secret of mylife. Arthur, what does this mean?

lord goring. Robert, you areexcited, unnerved. I tell you there is no one in that room.Sit down, Robert.

sir robert chiltern. Do yougive me your word that there is no one there?

lord goring. Yes.

sir robert chiltern. Yourword of honour? [Sits down.]

lord goring. Yes.

sir robert chiltern.[Rises.] Arthur, let me see for myself.

lord goring. No, no.

sir robert chiltern. If thereis no one there why should I not look in that room? Arthur,you must let me go into that room and satisfy myself. Letme know that no eavesdropper has heard my life’ssecret. Arthur, you don’t realise what I am goingthrough.

lord goring. Robert, thismust stop. I have told you that there is no one in thatroom—that is enough.

sir robert chiltern.[Rushes to the door of the room.] It is notenough. I insist on going into this room. You havetold me there is no one there, so what reason can you have forrefusing me?

lord goring. For God’ssake, don’t! There is some one there. Some onewhom you must not see.

sir robert chiltern. Ah, Ithought so!

lord goring. I forbid you toenter that room.

sir robert chiltern. Standback. My life is at stake. And I don’t care whois there. I will know who it is to whom I have told mysecret and my shame. [Enters room.]

lord goring. Great heavens!his own wife!

[sir robert chiltern comesback, with a look of scorn and anger on his face.]

sir robert chiltern. Whatexplanation have you to give me for the presence of that womanhere?

lord goring. Robert, I swearto you on my honour that that lady is stainless and guiltless ofall offence towards you.

sir robert chiltern. She is avile, an infamous thing!

lord goring. Don’t saythat, Robert! It was for your sake she came here. Itwas to try and save you she came here. She loves you and noone else.

sir robert chiltern. You aremad. What have I to do with her intrigues with you?Let her remain your mistress! You are well suited to eachother. She, corrupt and shameful—you, false as afriend, treacherous as an enemy even—

lord goring. It is not true,Robert. Before heaven, it is not true. In herpresence and in yours I will explain all.

sir robert chiltern. Let mepass, sir. You have lied enough upon your word ofhonour.

[sir robert chiltern goesout. lord goring rushesto the door of the drawing-room, whenmrs. cheveley comes out, lookingradiant and much amused.]

mrs. cheveley. [With amock curtsey] Good evening, Lord Goring!

lord goring. Mrs.Cheveley! Great heavens! . . . May I ask what you weredoing in my drawing-room?

mrs. cheveley. Merelylistening. I have a perfect passion for listening throughkeyholes. One always hears such wonderful things throughthem.

lord goring. Doesn’tthat sound rather like tempting Providence?

mrs. cheveley. Oh! surelyProvidence can resist temptation by this time. [Makes asign to him to take her cloak off, which he does.]

lord goring. I am glad youhave called. I am going to give you some good advice.

mrs. cheveley. Oh! praydon’t. One should never give a woman anything thatshe can’t wear in the evening.

lord goring. I see you arequite as wilful as you used to be.

mrs. cheveley. Farmore! I have greatly improved. I have had moreexperience.

lord goring. Too muchexperience is a dangerous thing. Pray have acigarette. Half the pretty women in London smokecigarettes. Personally I prefer the other half.

mrs. cheveley. Thanks.I never smoke. My dressmaker wouldn’t like it, and awoman’s first duty in life is to her dressmaker,isn’t it? What the second duty is, no one has as yetdiscovered.

lord goring. You have comehere to sell me Robert Chiltern’s letter, haven’tyou?

mrs. cheveley. To offer it toyou on conditions. How did you guess that?

lord goring. Because youhaven’t mentioned the subject. Have you got it withyou?

mrs. cheveley. [Sittingdown.] Oh, no! A well-made dress has nopockets.

lord goring. What is yourprice for it?

mrs. cheveley. How absurdlyEnglish you are! The English think that a cheque-book cansolve every problem in life. Why, my dear Arthur, I havevery much more money than you have, and quite as much as RobertChiltern has got hold of. Money is not what I want.

lord goring. What do you wantthen, Mrs. Cheveley?

mrs. cheveley. Whydon’t you call me Laura?

lord goring. I don’tlike the name.

mrs. cheveley. You used toadore it.

lord goring. Yes:that’s why. [mrs. cheveleymotions to him to sit down beside her. Hesmiles, and does so.]

mrs. cheveley. Arthur, youloved me once.

lord goring. Yes.

mrs. cheveley. And you askedme to be your wife.

lord goring. That was thenatural result of my loving you.

mrs. cheveley. And you threwme over because you saw, or said you saw, poor old Lord Mortlaketrying to have a violent flirtation with me in the conservatoryat Tenby.

lord goring. I am under theimpression that my lawyer settled that matter with you on certainterms . . . dictated by yourself.

mrs. cheveley. At that time Iwas poor; you were rich.

lord goring. Quite so.That is why you pretended to love me.

mrs. cheveley. [Shruggingher shoulders.] Poor old Lord Mortlake, who had onlytwo topics of conversation, his gout and his wife! I nevercould quite make out which of the two he was talking about.He used the most horrible language about them both. Well,you were silly, Arthur. Why, Lord Mortlake was neveranything more to me than an amusement. One of those utterlytedious amusements one only finds at an English country house onan English country Sunday. I don’t think any one atall morally responsible for what he or she does at an Englishcountry house.

lord goring. Yes. Iknow lots of people think that.

mrs. cheveley. I loved you,Arthur.

lord goring. My dear Mrs.Cheveley, you have always been far too clever to know anythingabout love.

mrs. cheveley. I did loveyou. And you loved me. You know you loved me; andlove is a very wonderful thing. I suppose that when a manhas once loved a woman, he will do anything for her, exceptcontinue to love her? [Puts her hand on his.]

lord goring. [Taking hishand away quietly.] Yes: except that.

mrs. cheveley. [After apause.] I am tired of living abroad. I want tocome back to London. I want to have a charming househere. I want to have a salon. If one could only teachthe English how to talk, and the Irish how to listen, societyhere would be quite civilised. Besides, I have arrived atthe romantic stage. When I saw you last night at theChilterns’, I knew you were the only person I had evercared for, if I ever have cared for anybody, Arthur. Andso, on the morning of the day you marry me, I will give youRobert Chiltern’s letter. That is my offer. Iwill give it to you now, if you promise to marry me.

lord goring. Now?

mrs. cheveley.[Smiling.] To-morrow.

lord goring. Are you reallyserious?

mrs. cheveley. Yes, quiteserious.

lord goring. I should makeyou a very bad husband.

mrs. cheveley. I don’tmind bad husbands. I have had two. They amused meimmensely.

lord goring. You mean thatyou amused yourself immensely, don’t you?

mrs. cheveley. What do youknow about my married life?

lord goring. Nothing: but Ican read it like a book.

mrs. cheveley. What book?

lord goring.[Rising.] The Book of Numbers.

mrs. cheveley. Do you thinkit is quite charming of you to be so rude to a woman in your ownhouse?

lord goring. In the case ofvery fascinating women, sex is a challenge, not a defence.

mrs. cheveley. I suppose thatis meant for a compliment. My dear Arthur, women are neverdisarmed by compliments. Men always are. That is thedifference between the two sexes.

lord goring. Women are neverdisarmed by anything, as far as I know them.

mrs. cheveley. [After apause.] Then you are going to allow your greatestfriend, Robert Chiltern, to be ruined, rather than marry some onewho really has considerable attractions left. I thought youwould have risen to some great height of self-sacrifice,Arthur. I think you should. And the rest of your lifeyou could spend in contemplating your own perfections.

lord goring. Oh! I do that asit is. And self-sacrifice is a thing that should be putdown by law. It is so demoralising to the people for whomone sacrifices oneself. They always go to the bad.

mrs. cheveley. As if anythingcould demoralise Robert Chiltern! You seem to forget that Iknow his real character.

lord goring. What you knowabout him is not his real character. It was an act of follydone in his youth, dishonourable, I admit, shameful, I admit,unworthy of him, I admit, and therefore . . . not his truecharacter.

mrs. cheveley. How you menstand up for each other!

lord goring. How you womenwar against each other!

mrs. cheveley.[Bitterly.] I only war against one woman, againstGertrude Chiltern. I hate her. I hate her now morethan ever.

lord goring. Because you havebrought a real tragedy into her life, I suppose.

mrs. cheveley. [With asneer.] Oh, there is only one real tragedy in awoman’s life. The fact that her past is always herlover, and her future invariably her husband.

lord goring. Lady Chilternknows nothing of the kind of life to which you are alluding.

mrs. cheveley. A woman whosesize in gloves is seven and three-quarters never knows much aboutanything. You know Gertrude has always worn seven andthree-quarters? That is one of the reasons why there wasnever any moral sympathy between us. . . . Well, Arthur, Isuppose this romantic interview may be regarded as at anend. You admit it was romantic, don’t you? Forthe privilege of being your wife I was ready to surrender a greatprize, the climax of my diplomatic career. Youdecline. Very well. If Sir Robert doesn’tuphold my Argentine scheme, I expose him. Voilàtout.

lord goring. Youmustn’t do that. It would be vile, horrible,infamous.

mrs. cheveley. [Shruggingher shoulders.] Oh! don’t use big words.They mean so little. It is a commercial transaction.That is all. There is no good mixing up sentimentality init. I offered to sell Robert Chiltern a certainthing. If he won’t pay me my price, he will have topay the world a greater price. There is no more to besaid. I must go. Good-bye. Won’t youshake hands?

lord goring. With you?No. Your transaction with Robert Chiltern may pass as aloathsome commercial transaction of a loathsome commercial age;but you seem to have forgotten that you came here to-night totalk of love, you whose lips desecrated the word love, you towhom the thing is a book closely sealed, went this afternoon tothe house of one of the most noble and gentle women in the worldto degrade her husband in her eyes, to try and kill her love forhim, to put poison in her heart, and bitterness in her life, tobreak her idol, and, it may be, spoil her soul. That Icannot forgive you. That was horrible. For that therecan be no forgiveness.

mrs. cheveley. Arthur, youare unjust to me. Believe me, you are quite unjust tome. I didn’t go to taunt Gertrude at all. I hadno idea of doing anything of the kind when I entered. Icalled with Lady Markby simply to ask whether an ornament, ajewel, that I lost somewhere last night, had been found at theChilterns’. If you don’t believe me, you canask Lady Markby. She will tell you it is true. Thescene that occurred happened after Lady Markby had left, and wasreally forced on me by Gertrude’s rudeness andsneers. I called, oh!—a little out of malice if youlike—but really to ask if a diamond brooch of mine had beenfound. That was the origin of the whole thing.

lord goring. A diamondsnake-brooch with a ruby?

mrs. cheveley. Yes. Howdo you know?

lord goring. Because it isfound. In point of fact, I found it myself, and stupidlyforgot to tell the butler anything about it as I wasleaving. [Goes over to the writing-table and pulls outthe drawers.] It is in this drawer. No, thatone. This is the brooch, isn’t it? [Holds upthe brooch.]

mrs. cheveley. Yes. Iam so glad to get it back. It was . . a present.

lord goring. Won’t youwear it?

mrs. cheveley. Certainly, ifyou pin it in. [lord goringsuddenly clasps it on her arm.] Why do you put it onas a bracelet? I never knew it could be worn as abracelet.

lord goring. Really?

mrs. cheveley. [Holdingout her handsome arm.] No; but it looks very well on meas a bracelet, doesn’t it?

lord goring. Yes; much betterthan when I saw it last.

mrs. cheveley. When did yousee it last?

lord goring.[Calmly.] Oh, ten years ago, on Lady Berkshire, fromwhom you stole it.

mrs. cheveley.[Starting.] What do you mean?

lord goring. I mean that youstole that ornament from my cousin, Mary Berkshire, to whom Igave it when she was married. Suspicion fell on a wretchedservant, who was sent away in disgrace. I recognised itlast night. I determined to say nothing about it till I hadfound the thief. I have found the thief now, and I haveheard her own confession.

mrs. cheveley. [Tossingher head.] It is not true.

lord goring. You know it istrue. Why, thief is written across your face at thismoment.

mrs. cheveley. I will denythe whole affair from beginning to end. I will say that Ihave never seen this wretched thing, that it was never in mypossession.

[mrs. cheveley tries to get thebracelet off her arm, but fails. lord goring looks on amused.Her thin fingers tear at the jewel to no purpose.A curse breaks from her.]

lord goring. The drawback ofstealing a thing, Mrs. Cheveley, is that one never knows howwonderful the thing that one steals is. You can’t getthat bracelet off, unless you know where the spring is. AndI see you don’t know where the spring is. It israther difficult to find.

mrs. cheveley. Youbrute! You coward! [She tries again to unclasp thebracelet, but fails.]

lord goring. Oh! don’tuse big words. They mean so little.

mrs. cheveley. [Againtears at the bracelet in a paroxysm of rage, withinarticulate sounds. Then stops, and looksatlord goring.] What areyou going to do?

lord goring. I am going toring for my servant. He is an admirable servant.Always comes in the moment one rings for him. When he comesI will tell him to fetch the police.

mrs. cheveley.[Trembling.] The police? What for?

lord goring. To-morrow theBerkshires will prosecute you. That is what the police arefor.

mrs. cheveley. [Is now inan agony of physical terror. Her face isdistorted. Her mouth awry. A mask hasfallen from her. She is, for the moment,dreadful to look at.] Don’t do that. Iwill do anything you want. Anything in the world youwant.

lord goring. Give me RobertChiltern’s letter.

mrs. cheveley. Stop!Stop! Let me have time to think.

lord goring. Give me RobertChiltern’s letter.

mrs. cheveley. I have not gotit with me. I will give it to you to-morrow.

lord goring. You know you arelying. Give it to me at once. [mrs. cheveley pulls the letter out,and hands it to him. She is horriblypale.] This is it?

mrs. cheveley. [In ahoarse voice.] Yes.

lord goring. [Takes theletter, examines it, sighs, and burns itwith the lamp.] For so well-dressed a woman, Mrs.Cheveley, you have moments of admirable common sense. Icongratulate you.

mrs. cheveley. [Catchessight oflady chiltern’sletter, the cover of which is just showing from underthe blotting-book.] Please get me a glass of water.

lord goring. Certainly.[Goes to the corner of the room and pours out a glass ofwater. While his back is turnedmrs. cheveley stealslady chiltern’s letter.Whenlord goring returns theglass she refuses it with a gesture.]

mrs. cheveley. Thankyou. Will you help me on with my cloak?

lord goring. Withpleasure. [Puts her cloak on.]

mrs. cheveley. Thanks.I am never going to try to harm Robert Chiltern again.

lord goring. Fortunately youhave not the chance, Mrs. Cheveley.

mrs. cheveley. Well, if evenI had the chance, I wouldn’t. On the contrary, I amgoing to render him a great service.

lord goring. I am charmed tohear it. It is a reformation.

mrs. cheveley. Yes. Ican’t bear so upright a gentleman, so honourable an Englishgentleman, being so shamefully deceived, and so—

lord goring. Well?

mrs. cheveley. I find thatsomehow Gertrude Chiltern’s dying speech and confession hasstrayed into my pocket.

lord goring. What do youmean?

mrs. cheveley. [With abitter note of triumph in her voice.] I mean that I amgoing to send Robert Chiltern the love-letter his wife wrote toyou to-night.

lord goring. Love-letter?

mrs. cheveley.[Laughing.] ‘I want you. I trustyou. I am coming to you. Gertrude.’

[lord goring rushes to thebureau and takes up the envelope, finds is empty,and turns round.]

lord goring. You wretchedwoman, must you always be thieving? Give me back thatletter. I’ll take it from you by force. Youshall not leave my room till I have got it.

[He rushes towards her, butmrs. cheveley at once puts her hand onthe electric bell that is on the table. The bell soundswith shrill reverberations, andphipps enters.]

mrs. cheveley. [After apause.] Lord Goring merely rang that you should show meout. Good-night, Lord Goring!

[Goes out followed byphipps. Her face is illumined withevil triumph. There is joy in her eyes.Youth seems to have come back to her. Her lastglance is like a swift arrow. lordgoring bites his lip, and lights acigarette.]

ActDrop.

FOURTH ACT

SCENE

Same as Act II.

[lord goring is standing by thefireplace with his hands in his pockets. He islooking rather bored.]

lord goring. [Pulls outhis watch, inspects it, and rings thebell.] It is a great nuisance. I can’t findany one in this house to talk to. And I am full ofinteresting information. I feel like the latest edition ofsomething or other.

[Enter servant.]

james. Sir Robert is still atthe Foreign Office, my lord.

lord goring. Lady Chilternnot down yet?

james. Her ladyship has notyet left her room. Miss Chiltern has just come in fromriding.

lord goring. [Tohimself.] Ah! that is something.

james. Lord Caversham hasbeen waiting some time in the library for Sir Robert. Itold him your lordship was here.

lord goring. Thank you!Would you kindly tell him I’ve gone?

james. [Bowing.]I shall do so, my lord.

[Exit servant.]

lord goring. Really, Idon’t want to meet my father three days running. Itis a great deal too much excitement for any son. I hope togoodness he won’t come up. Fathers should be neitherseen nor heard. That is the only proper basis for familylife. Mothers are different. Mothers aredarlings. [Throws himself down into a chair,picks up a paper and begins to read it.]

[Enterlord caversham.]

lord caversham. Well, sir,what are you doing here? Wasting your time as usual, Isuppose?

lord goring. [Throws downpaper and rises.] My dear father, when one pays a visitit is for the purpose of wasting other people’s time, notone’s own.

lord caversham. Have you beenthinking over what I spoke to you about last night?

lord goring. I have beenthinking about nothing else.

lord caversham. Engaged to bemarried yet?

lord goring.[Genially.] Not yet: but I hope to be beforelunch-time.

lord caversham.[Caustically.] You can have till dinner-time if itwould be of any convenience to you.

lord goring. Thanks awfully,but I think I’d sooner be engaged before lunch.

lord caversham. Humph!Never know when you are serious or not.

lord goring. Neither do I,father.

[A pause.]

lord caversham. I suppose youhave read The Timesthis morning?

lord goring.[Airily.] The Times? Certainly not. Ionly read The Morning Post. All that one should knowabout modern life is where the Duchesses are; anything else isquite demoralising.

lord caversham. Do you meanto say you have not read The Timesleading article onRobert Chiltern’s career?

lord goring. Goodheavens! No. What does it say?

lord caversham. What shouldit say, sir? Everything complimentary, of course.Chiltern’s speech last night on this Argentine Canal schemewas one of the finest pieces of oratory ever delivered in theHouse since Canning.

lord goring. Ah! Neverheard of Canning. Never wanted to. And did . . . didChiltern uphold the scheme?

lord caversham. Uphold it,sir? How little you know him! Why, he denounced itroundly, and the whole system of modern political finance.This speech is the turning-point in his career, as TheTimespoints out. You should read this article,sir. [OpensThe Times.] ‘Sir RobertChiltern . . . most rising of our young statesmen . . . Brilliantorator . . . Unblemished career . . . Well-known integrity ofcharacter . . . Represents what is best in English public life .. . Noble contrast to the lax morality so common among foreignpoliticians.’ They will never say that of you,sir.

lord goring. I sincerely hopenot, father. However, I am delighted at what you tell meabout Robert, thoroughly delighted. It shows he has gotpluck.

lord caversham. He has gotmore than pluck, sir, he has got genius.

lord goring. Ah! I preferpluck. It is not so common, nowadays, as genius is.

lord caversham. I wish youwould go into Parliament.

lord goring. My dear father,only people who look dull ever get into the House of Commons, andonly people who are dull ever succeed there.

lord caversham. Whydon’t you try to do something useful in life?

lord goring. I am far tooyoung.

lord caversham.[Testily.] I hate this affectation of youth,sir. It is a great deal too prevalent nowadays.

lord goring. Youthisn’t an affectation. Youth is an art.

lord caversham. Whydon’t you propose to that pretty Miss Chiltern?

lord goring. I am of a verynervous disposition, especially in the morning.

lord caversham. I don’tsuppose there is the smallest chance of her accepting you.

lord goring. I don’tknow how the betting stands to-day.

lord caversham. If she didaccept you she would be the prettiest fool in England.

lord goring. That is justwhat I should like to marry. A thoroughly sensible wifewould reduce me to a condition of absolute idiocy in less thansix months.

lord caversham. Youdon’t deserve her, sir.

lord goring. My dear father,if we men married the women we deserved, we should have a verybad time of it.

[Entermabel chiltern.]

mabel chiltern. Oh! . . . Howdo you do, Lord Caversham? I hope Lady Caversham is quitewell?

lord caversham. LadyCaversham is as usual, as usual.

lord goring. Good morning,Miss Mabel!

mabel chiltern. [Taking nonotice at all oflord goring,and addressing herself exclusively tolord caversham.] And LadyCaversham’s bonnets . . . are they at all better?

lord caversham. They have hada serious relapse, I am sorry to say.

lord goring. Good morning,Miss Mabel!

mabel chiltern. [Tolord caversham.] I hope anoperation will not be necessary.

lord caversham. [Smilingat her pertness.] If it is, we shall have to give LadyCaversham a narcotic. Otherwise she would never consent tohave a feather touched.

lord goring. [Withincreased emphasis.] Good morning, Miss Mabel!

mabel chiltern. [Turninground with feigned surprise.] Oh, are you here?Of course you understand that after your breaking yourappointment I am never going to speak to you again.

lord goring. Oh, pleasedon’t say such a thing. You are the one person inLondon I really like to have to listen to me.

mabel chiltern. Lord Goring,I never believe a single word that either you or I say to eachother.

lord caversham. You are quiteright, my dear, quite right . . . as far as he is concerned, Imean.

mabel chiltern. Do you thinkyou could possibly make your son behave a little betteroccasionally? Just as a change.

lord caversham. I regret tosay, Miss Chiltern, that I have no influence at all over myson. I wish I had. If I had, I know what I would makehim do.

mabel chiltern. I am afraidthat he has one of those terribly weak natures that are notsusceptible to influence.

lord caversham. He is veryheartless, very heartless.

lord goring. It seems to methat I am a little in the way here.

mabel chiltern. It is verygood for you to be in the way, and to know what people say of youbehind your back.

lord goring. I don’t atall like knowing what people say of me behind my back. Itmakes me far too conceited.

lord caversham. After that,my dear, I really must bid you good morning.

mabel chiltern. Oh! I hopeyou are not going to leave me all alone with Lord Goring?Especially at such an early hour in the day.

lord caversham. I am afraid Ican’t take him with me to Downing Street. It is notthe Prime Minster’s day for seeing the unemployed.

[Shakes hands withmabelchiltern, takes up his hat and stick, and goesout, with a parting glare of indignation atlord goring.]

mabel chiltern. [Takes uproses and begins to arrange them in a bowl on thetable.] People who don’t keep their appointmentsin the Park are horrid.

lord goring. Detestable.

mabel chiltern. I am glad youadmit it. But I wish you wouldn’t look so pleasedabout it.

lord goring. I can’thelp it. I always look pleased when I am with you.

mabel chiltern.[Sadly.] Then I suppose it is my duty to remain withyou?

lord goring. Of course itis.

mabel chiltern. Well, my dutyis a thing I never do, on principle. It always depressesme. So I am afraid I must leave you.

lord goring. Pleasedon’t, Miss Mabel. I have something very particularto say to you.

mabel chiltern.[Rapturously.] Oh! is it a proposal?

lord goring. [Somewhattaken aback.] Well, yes, it is—I am bound to sayit is.

mabel chiltern. [With asigh of pleasure.] I am so glad. That makes thesecond to-day.

lord goring.[Indignantly.] The second to-day? Whatconceited ass has been impertinent enough to dare to propose toyou before I had proposed to you?

mabel chiltern. TommyTrafford, of course. It is one of Tommy’s days forproposing. He always proposes on Tuesdays and Thursdays,during the Season.

lord goring. You didn’taccept him, I hope?

mabel chiltern. I make it arule never to accept Tommy. That is why he goes onproposing. Of course, as you didn’t turn up thismorning, I very nearly said yes. It would have been anexcellent lesson both for him and for you if I had. Itwould have taught you both better manners.

lord goring. Oh! bother TommyTrafford. Tommy is a silly little ass. I loveyou.

mabel chiltern. I know.And I think you might have mentioned it before. I am sure Ihave given you heaps of opportunities.

lord goring. Mabel, do beserious. Please be serious.

mabel chiltern. Ah! that isthe sort of thing a man always says to a girl before he has beenmarried to her. He never says it afterwards.

lord goring. [Taking holdof her hand.] Mabel, I have told you that I loveyou. Can’t you love me a little in return?

mabel chiltern. You sillyArthur! If you knew anything about . . . anything, whichyou don’t, you would know that I adore you. Every onein London knows it except you. It is a public scandal theway I adore you. I have been going about for the last sixmonths telling the whole of society that I adore you. Iwonder you consent to have anything to say to me. I have nocharacter left at all. At least, I feel so happy that I amquite sure I have no character left at all.

lord goring. [Catches herin his arms and kisses her. Then there is a pause ofbliss.] Dear! Do you know I was awfully afraid ofbeing refused!

mabel chiltern. [Lookingup at him.] But you never have been refused yet byanybody, have you, Arthur? I can’t imagine any onerefusing you.

lord goring. [Afterkissing her again.] Of course I’m not nearly goodenough for you, Mabel.

mabel chiltern. [Nestlingclose to him.] I am so glad, darling. I wasafraid you were.

lord goring. [After somehesitation.] And I’m . . . I’m a littleover thirty.

mabel chiltern. Dear, youlook weeks younger than that.

lord goring.[Enthusiastically.] How sweet of you to say so! . .. And it is only fair to tell you frankly that I am fearfullyextravagant.

mabel chiltern. But so am I,Arthur. So we’re sure to agree. And now I mustgo and see Gertrude.

lord goring. Must youreally? [Kisses her.]

mabel chiltern. Yes.

lord goring. Then do tell herI want to talk to her particularly. I have been waitinghere all the morning to see either her or Robert.

mabel chiltern. Do you meanto say you didn’t come here expressly to propose to me?

lord goring.[Triumphantly.] No; that was a flash of genius.

mabel chiltern. Yourfirst.

lord goring. [Withdetermination.] My last.

mabel chiltern. I amdelighted to hear it. Now don’t stir.I’ll be back in five minutes. And don’t fallinto any temptations while I am away.

lord goring. Dear Mabel,while you are away, there are none. It makes me horriblydependent on you.

[Enterlady chiltern.]

lady chiltern. Good morning,dear! How pretty you are looking!

mabel chiltern. How pale youare looking, Gertrude! It is most becoming!

lady chiltern. Good morning,Lord Goring!

lord goring.[Bowing.] Good morning, Lady Chiltern!

mabel chiltern. [Asidetolord goring.] I shall bein the conservatory under the second palm tree on the left.

lord goring. Second on theleft?

mabel chiltern. [With alook of mock surprise.] Yes; the usual palm tree.

[Blows a kiss to him, unobserved bylady chiltern, and goes out.]

lord goring. Lady Chiltern, Ihave a certain amount of very good news to tell you. Mrs.Cheveley gave me up Robert’s letter last night, and Iburned it. Robert is safe.

lady chiltern. [Sinking onthe sofa.] Safe! Oh! I am so glad of that.What a good friend you are to him—to us!

lord goring. There is onlyone person now that could be said to be in any danger.

lady chiltern. Who isthat?

lord goring. [Sitting downbeside her.] Yourself.

lady chiltern. I? Indanger? What do you mean?

lord goring. Danger is toogreat a word. It is a word I should not have used.But I admit I have something to tell you that may distress you,that terribly distresses me. Yesterday evening you wrote mea very beautiful, womanly letter, asking me for my help.You wrote to me as one of your oldest friends, one of yourhusband’s oldest friends. Mrs. Cheveley stole thatletter from my rooms.

lady chiltern. Well, what useis it to her? Why should she not have it?

lord goring.[Rising.] Lady Chiltern, I will be quite frank withyou. Mrs. Cheveley puts a certain construction on thatletter and proposes to send it to your husband.

lady chiltern. But whatconstruction could she put on it? . . . Oh! not that! notthat! If I in—in trouble, and wanting your help,trusting you, propose to come to you . . . that you may advise me. . . assist me . . . Oh! are there women so horrible as that . ..? And she proposes to send it to my husband? Tell mewhat happened. Tell me all that happened.

lord goring. Mrs. Cheveleywas concealed in a room adjoining my library, without myknowledge. I thought that the person who was waiting inthat room to see me was yourself. Robert came inunexpectedly. A chair or something fell in the room.He forced his way in, and he discovered her. We had aterrible scene. I still thought it was you. He leftme in anger. At the end of everything Mrs. Cheveley gotpossession of your letter—she stole it, when or how, Idon’t know.

lady chiltern. At what hourdid this happen?

lord goring. At half-pastten. And now I propose that we tell Robert the whole thingat once.

lady chiltern. [Looking athim with amazement that is almost terror.] You want meto tell Robert that the woman you expected was not Mrs. Cheveley,but myself? That it was I whom you thought was concealed ina room in your house, at half-past ten o’clock atnight? You want me to tell him that?

lord goring. I think it isbetter that he should know the exact truth.

lady chiltern.[Rising.] Oh, I couldn’t, Icouldn’t!

lord goring. May I do it?

lady chiltern. No.

lord goring.[Gravely.] You are wrong, Lady Chiltern.

lady chiltern. No. Theletter must be intercepted. That is all. But how canI do it? Letters arrive for him every moment of theday. His secretaries open them and hand them to him.I dare not ask the servants to bring me his letters. Itwould be impossible. Oh! why don’t you tell me whatto do?

lord goring. Pray be calm,Lady Chiltern, and answer the questions I am going to put toyou. You said his secretaries open his letters.

lady chiltern. Yes.

lord goring. Who is with himto-day? Mr. Trafford, isn’t it?

lady chiltern. No. Mr.Montford, I think.

lord goring. You can trusthim?

lady chiltern. [With agesture of despair.] Oh! how do I know?

lord goring. He would do whatyou asked him, wouldn’t he?

lady chiltern. I thinkso.

lord goring. Your letter wason pink paper. He could recognise it without reading it,couldn’t he? By the colour?

lady chiltern. I supposeso.

lord goring. Is he in thehouse now?

lady chiltern. Yes.

lord goring. Then I will goand see him myself, and tell him that a certain letter, writtenon pink paper, is to be forwarded to Robert to-day, and that atall costs it must not reach him. [Goes to the door,and opens it.] Oh! Robert is coming upstairs withthe letter in his hand. It has reached him already.

lady chiltern. [With a cryof pain.] Oh! you have saved his life; what have youdone with mine?

[Entersir robertchiltern. He has the letter in his hand,and is reading it. He comes towards his wife,not noticinglordgoring’s presence.]

sir robert chiltern. ‘Iwant you. I trust you. I am coming to you.Gertrude.’ Oh, my love! Is this true? Doyou indeed trust me, and want me? If so, it was for me tocome to you, not for you to write of coming to me. Thisletter of yours, Gertrude, makes me feel that nothing that theworld may do can hurt me now. You want me, Gertrude?

[lord goring, unseen bysir robert chiltern, makes animploring sign tolady chilternto accept the situation andsirrobert’s error.]

lady chiltern. Yes.

sir robert chiltern. Youtrust me, Gertrude?

lady chiltern. Yes.

sir robert chiltern. Ah! whydid you not add you loved me?

lady chiltern. [Taking hishand.] Because I loved you.

[lord goring passes into theconservatory.]

sir robert chiltern.[Kisses her.] Gertrude, you don’t know what Ifeel. When Montford passed me your letter across thetable—he had opened it by mistake, I suppose, withoutlooking at the handwriting on the envelope—and I readit—oh! I did not care what disgrace or punishment was instore for me, I only thought you loved me still.

lady chiltern. There is nodisgrace in store for you, nor any public shame. Mrs.Cheveley has handed over to Lord Goring the document that was inher possession, and he has destroyed it.

sir robert chiltern. Are yousure of this, Gertrude?

lady chiltern. Yes; LordGoring has just told me.

sir robert chiltern. Then Iam safe! Oh! what a wonderful thing to be safe! Fortwo days I have been in terror. I am safe now. Howdid Arthur destroy my letter? Tell me.

lady chiltern. He burnedit.

sir robert chiltern. I wish Ihad seen that one sin of my youth burning to ashes. Howmany men there are in modern life who would like to see theirpast burning to white ashes before them! Is Arthur stillhere?

lady chiltern. Yes; he is inthe conservatory.

sir robert chiltern. I am soglad now I made that speech last night in the House, soglad. I made it thinking that public disgrace might be theresult. But it has not been so.

lady chiltern. Public honourhas been the result.

sir robert chiltern. I thinkso. I fear so, almost. For although I am safe fromdetection, although every proof against me is destroyed, Isuppose, Gertrude . . . I suppose I should retire from publiclife? [He looks anxiously at his wife.]

lady chiltern.[Eagerly.] Oh yes, Robert, you should do that.It is your duty to do that.

sir robert chiltern. It ismuch to surrender.

lady chiltern. No; it will bemuch to gain.

[sir robert chiltern walks upand down the room with a troubled expression. Thencomes over to his wife, and puts his hand on hershoulder.]

sir robert chiltern. And youwould be happy living somewhere alone with me, abroad perhaps, orin the country away from London, away from public life? Youwould have no regrets?

lady chiltern. Oh! none,Robert.

sir robert chiltern.[Sadly.] And your ambition for me? You used tobe ambitious for me.

lady chiltern. Oh, myambition! I have none now, but that we two may love eachother. It was your ambition that led you astray. Letus not talk about ambition.

[lord goring returns from theconservatory, looking very pleased with himself,and with an entirely new buttonhole that some one has made forhim.]

sir robert chiltern.[Going towards him.] Arthur, I have to thank you forwhat you have done for me. I don’t know how I canrepay you. [Shakes hands with him.]

lord goring. My dear fellow,I’ll tell you at once. At the present moment, underthe usual palm tree . . . I mean in the conservatory . . .

[Entermason.]

mason. Lord Caversham.

lord goring. That admirablefather of mine really makes a habit of turning up at the wrongmoment. It is very heartless of him, very heartlessindeed.

[Enterlord caversham.mason goes out.]

lord caversham. Good morning,Lady Chiltern! Warmest congratulations to you, Chiltern, onyour brilliant speech last night. I have just left thePrime Minister, and you are to have the vacant seat in theCabinet.

sir robert chiltern. [Witha look of joy and triumph.] A seat in the Cabinet?

lord caversham. Yes; here isthe Prime Minister’s letter. [Handsletter.]

sir robert chiltern.[Takes letter and reads it.] A seat in theCabinet!

lord caversham. Certainly,and you well deserve it too. You have got what we want somuch in political life nowadays—high character, high moraltone, high principles. [Tolordgoring.] Everything that you have not got, sir, andnever will have.

lord goring. I don’tlike principles, father. I prefer prejudices.

[sir robert chiltern is on thebrink of accepting the Prime Minister’s offer, whenhe sees wife looking at him with her clear, candideyes. He then realises that it isimpossible.]

sir robert chiltern. I cannotaccept this offer, Lord Caversham. I have made up my mindto decline it.

lord caversham. Decline it,sir!

sir robert chiltern. Myintention is to retire at once from public life.

lord caversham.[Angrily.] Decline a seat in the Cabinet, and retirefrom public life? Never heard such damned nonsense in thewhole course of my existence. I beg your pardon, LadyChiltern. Chiltern, I beg your pardon. [Tolord goring.] Don’t grinlike that, sir.

lord goring. No, father.

lord caversham. LadyChiltern, you are a sensible woman, the most sensible woman inLondon, the most sensible woman I know. Will you kindlyprevent your husband from making such a . . . from taking such .. . Will you kindly do that, Lady Chiltern?

lady chiltern. I think myhusband in right is his determination, Lord Caversham. Iapprove of it.

lord caversham. You approveof it? Good heavens!

lady chiltern. [Taking herhusband’s hand.] I admire him for it. Iadmire him immensely for it. I have never admired him somuch before. He is finer than even I thought him.[Tosir robert chiltern.]You will go and write your letter to the Prime Minister now,won’t you? Don’t hesitate about it, Robert.

sir robert chiltern. [Witha touch of bitterness.] I suppose I had better write itat once. Such offers are not repeated. I will ask youto excuse me for a moment, Lord Caversham.

lady chiltern. I may comewith you, Robert, may I not?

sir robert chiltern. Yes,Gertrude.

[lady chiltern goes out withhim.]

lord caversham. What is thematter with this family? Something wrong here, eh?[Tapping his forehead.] Idiocy? Hereditary, Isuppose. Both of them, too. Wife as well ashusband. Very sad. Very sad indeed! And theyare not an old family. Can’t understand it.

lord goring. It is notidiocy, father, I assure you.

lord caversham. What is itthen, sir?

lord goring. [After somehesitation.] Well, it is what is called nowadays a highmoral tone, father. That is all.

lord caversham. Hate thesenew-fangled names. Same thing as we used to call idiocyfifty years ago. Shan’t stay in this house anylonger.

lord goring. [Taking hisarm.] Oh! just go in here for a moment, father.Third palm tree to the left, the usual palm tree.

lord caversham. What,sir?

lord goring. I beg yourpardon, father, I forgot. The conservatory, father, theconservatory—there is some one there I want you to talkto.

lord caversham. What about,sir?

lord goring. About me,father.

lord caversham.[Grimly.] Not a subject on which much eloquence ispossible.

lord goring. No, father; butthe lady is like me. She doesn’t care much foreloquence in others. She thinks it a little loud.

[lord caversham goes out intothe conservatory. ladychiltern enters.]

lord goring. Lady Chiltern,why are you playing Mrs. Cheveley’s cards?

lady chiltern.[Startled.] I don’t understand you.

lord goring. Mrs. Cheveleymade an attempt to ruin your husband. Either to drive himfrom public life, or to make him adopt a dishonourableposition. From the latter tragedy you saved him. Theformer you are now thrusting on him. Why should you do himthe wrong Mrs. Cheveley tried to do and failed?

lady chiltern. LordGoring?

lord goring. [Pullinghimself together for a great effort, and showing thephilosopher that underlies the dandy.] Lady Chiltern,allow me. You wrote me a letter last night in which yousaid you trusted me and wanted my help. Now is the momentwhen you really want my help, now is the time when you have gotto trust me, to trust in my counsel and judgment. You loveRobert. Do you want to kill his love for you? Whatsort of existence will he have if you rob him of the fruits ofhis ambition, if you take him from the splendour of a greatpolitical career, if you close the doors of public life againsthim, if you condemn him to sterile failure, he who was made fortriumph and success? Women are not meant to judge us, butto forgive us when we need forgiveness. Pardon, notpunishment, is their mission. Why should you scourge himwith rods for a sin done in his youth, before he knew you, beforehe knew himself? A man’s life is of more value than awoman’s. It has larger issues, wider scope, greaterambitions. A woman’s life revolves in curves ofemotions. It is upon lines of intellect that a man’slife progresses. Don’t make any terrible mistake,Lady Chiltern. A woman who can keep a man’s love, andlove him in return, has done all the world wants of women, orshould want of them.

lady chiltern. [Troubledand hesitating.] But it is my husband himself whowishes to retire from public life. He feels it is hisduty. It was he who first said so.

lord goring. Rather than loseyour love, Robert would do anything, wreck his whole career, ashe is on the brink of doing now. He is making for you aterrible sacrifice. Take my advice, Lady Chiltern, and donot accept a sacrifice so great. If you do, you will liveto repent it bitterly. We men and women are not made toaccept such sacrifices from each other. We are not worthyof them. Besides, Robert has been punished enough.

lady chiltern. We have bothbeen punished. I set him up too high.

lord goring. [With deepfeeling in his voice.] Do not for that reason set himdown now too low. If he has fallen from his altar, do notthrust him into the mire. Failure to Robert would be thevery mire of shame. Power is his passion. He wouldlose everything, even his power to feel love. Yourhusband’s life is at this moment in your hands, yourhusband’s love is in your hands. Don’t mar bothfor him.

[Entersir robertchiltern.]

sir robert chiltern.Gertrude, here is the draft of my letter. Shall I read itto you?

lady chiltern. Let me seeit.

[sir robert hands her theletter. She reads it, and then, with agesture of passion, tears it up.]

sir robert chiltern. What areyou doing?

lady chiltern. A man’slife is of more value than a woman’s. It has largerissues, wider scope, greater ambitions. Our lives revolvein curves of emotions. It is upon lines of intellect that aman’s life progresses. I have just learnt this, andmuch else with it, from Lord Goring. And I will not spoilyour life for you, nor see you spoil it as a sacrifice to me, auseless sacrifice!

sir robert chiltern.Gertrude! Gertrude!

lady chiltern. You canforget. Men easily forget. And I forgive. Thatis how women help the world. I see that now.

sir robert chiltern.[Deeply overcome by emotion, embraces her.]My wife! my wife! [Tolordgoring.] Arthur, it seems that I am always to be inyour debt.

lord goring. Oh dear no,Robert. Your debt is to Lady Chiltern, not to me!

sir robert chiltern. I oweyou much. And now tell me what you were going to ask mejust now as Lord Caversham came in.

lord goring. Robert, you areyour sister’s guardian, and I want your consent to mymarriage with her. That is all.

lady chiltern. Oh, I am soglad! I am so glad! [Shakes hands withlord goring.]

lord goring. Thank you, LadyChiltern.

sir robert chiltern. [Witha troubled look.] My sister to be your wife?

lord goring. Yes.

sir robert chiltern.[Speaking with great firmness.] Arthur, I am verysorry, but the thing is quite out of the question. I haveto think of Mabel’s future happiness. And Idon’t think her happiness would be safe in yourhands. And I cannot have her sacrificed!

lord goring. Sacrificed!

sir robert chiltern. Yes,utterly sacrificed. Loveless marriages are horrible.But there is one thing worse than an absolutely lovelessmarriage. A marriage in which there is love, but on oneside only; faith, but on one side only; devotion, but on one sideonly, and in which of the two hearts one is sure to bebroken.

lord goring. But I loveMabel. No other woman has any place in my life.

lady chiltern. Robert, ifthey love each other, why should they not be married?

sir robert chiltern. Arthurcannot bring Mabel the love that she deserves.

lord goring. What reason haveyou for saying that?

sir robert chiltern.[After a pause.] Do you really require me to tellyou?

lord goring. Certainly Ido.

sir robert chiltern. As youchoose. When I called on you yesterday evening I found Mrs.Cheveley concealed in your rooms. It was between ten andeleven o’clock at night. I do not wish to sayanything more. Your relations with Mrs. Cheveley have, as Isaid to you last night, nothing whatsoever to do with me. Iknow you were engaged to be married to her once. Thefascination she exercised over you then seems to havereturned. You spoke to me last night of her as of a womanpure and stainless, a woman whom you respected andhonoured. That may be so. But I cannot give mysister’s life into your hands. It would be wrong ofme. It would be unjust, infamously unjust to her.

lord goring. I have nothingmore to say.

lady chiltern. Robert, it wasnot Mrs. Cheveley whom Lord Goring expected last night.

sir robert chiltern. Not Mrs.Cheveley! Who was it then?

lord goring. LadyChiltern!

lady chiltern. It was yourown wife. Robert, yesterday afternoon Lord Goring told methat if ever I was in trouble I could come to him for help, as hewas our oldest and best friend. Later on, after thatterrible scene in this room, I wrote to him telling him that Itrusted him, that I had need of him, that I was coming to him forhelp and advice. [sir robertchiltern takes the letter out of his pocket.]Yes, that letter. I didn’t go to Lord Goring’s,after all. I felt that it is from ourselves alone that helpcan come. Pride made me think that. Mrs. Cheveleywent. She stole my letter and sent it anonymously to youthis morning, that you should think . . . Oh! Robert, I cannottell you what she wished you to think. . . .

sir robert chiltern.What! Had I fallen so low in your eyes that you thoughtthat even for a moment I could have doubted your goodness?Gertrude, Gertrude, you are to me the white image of all goodthings, and sin can never touch you. Arthur, you can go toMabel, and you have my best wishes! Oh! stop amoment. There is no name at the beginning of thisletter. The brilliant Mrs. Cheveley does not seem to havenoticed that. There should be a name.

lady chiltern. Let me writeyours. It is you I trust and need. You and noneelse.

lord goring. Well, really,Lady Chiltern, I think I should have back my own letter.

lady chiltern.[Smiling.] No; you shall have Mabel. [Takesthe letter and writes her husband’s name on it.]

lord goring. Well, I hope shehasn’t changed her mind. It’s nearly twentyminutes since I saw her last.

[Entermabel chilternandlord caversham.]

mabel chiltern. Lord Goring,I think your father’s conversation much more improving thanyours. I am only going to talk to Lord Caversham in thefuture, and always under the usual palm tree.

lord goring. Darling![Kisses her.]

lord caversham.[Considerably taken aback.] What does this mean,sir? You don’t mean to say that this charming, cleveryoung lady has been so foolish as to accept you?

lord goring. Certainly,father! And Chiltern’s been wise enough to accept theseat in the Cabinet.

lord caversham. I am veryglad to hear that, Chiltern . . . I congratulate you, sir.If the country doesn’t go to the dogs or the Radicals, weshall have you Prime Minister, some day.

[Entermason.]

mason. Luncheon is on thetable, my Lady!

[mason goes out.]

mabel chiltern. You’llstop to luncheon, Lord Caversham, won’t you?

lord caversham. Withpleasure, and I’ll drive you down to Downing Streetafterwards, Chiltern. You have a great future before you, agreat future. Wish I could say the same for you, sir.[Tolord goring.] Butyour career will have to be entirely domestic.

lord goring. Yes, father, Iprefer it domestic.

lord caversham. And if youdon’t make this young lady an ideal husband, I’ll cutyou off with a shilling.

mabel chiltern. An idealhusband! Oh, I don’t think I should like that.It sounds like something in the next world.

lord caversham. What do youwant him to be then, dear?

mabel chiltern. He can bewhat he chooses. All I want is to be . . . to be . . . oh!a real wife to him.

lord caversham. Upon my word,there is a good deal of common sense in that, Lady Chiltern.

[They all go out exceptsir robertchiltern. He sinks in a chair, wrapt inthought. After a little timelady chiltern returns to look forhim.]

lady chiltern. [Leaningover the back of the chair.] Aren’t you comingin, Robert?

sir robert chiltern.[Taking her hand.] Gertrude, is it love you feel forme, or is it pity merely?

lady chiltern. [Kisseshim.] It is love, Robert. Love, and onlylove. For both of us a new life is beginning.

Curtain

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