Complete Works of Oscar Wilde

by Oscar Wilde

  MRS. CHEVELEY (after a pause): Lord Goring merely rang that you should show me out. Good-night, Lord Goring!

  Goes out followed by PHIPPS. Her face is illuminated with evil triumph. There is joy in her eyes. Youth seems to have come back to her. Her last glance is like a swift arrow. LORD GORING bites his lip, and lights a cigarette.

  ACT DROP

  ACT FOUR

  SCENE: Same as Act Two.

  LORD GORING is standing by the fireplace with his hands in his pockets. He is looking rather bored.

  LORD GORING (pulls out his watch, inspects it, and rings the bell): It is a great nuisance. I can’t find any one in this house to talk to. And I am full of interesting information. I feel like the latest edition of something or other.

  Enter servant.

  JAMES: Sir Robert is still at the Foreign Office, my lord.

  LORD GORING: Lady Chiltern not down yet?

  JAMES: Her ladyship has not yet left her room. Miss Chiltern has just come in from riding.

  LORD GORING (to himself): Ah! That is something.

  JAMES: Lord Caversham has been waiting some time in the library for Sir Robert. I told 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, I don’t want to meet my father three days running. It is a great deal too much excitement for any son. I hope to goodness he won’t come up. Fathers should be neither seen nor heard. That is the only proper basis for family life. Mothers are different. Mothers are darlings. (Throws himself down into a chair, picks up a paper and begins to read it.)

  Enter LORD CAVERSHAM.

  LORD CAVERSHAM: Well, sir, what are you doing here? Wasting your time as usual, I suppose?

  LORD GORING (throws down paper and rises): My dear father, when one pays a visit it is for the purpose of wasting other people’s time, not one’s own.

  LORD CAVERSHAM: Have you been thinking over what I spoke to you about last night?

  LORD GORING: I have been thinking about nothing else.

  LORD CAVERSHAM: Engaged to be married yet?

  LORD GORING (genially): Not yet; but I hope to be before lunch-time.

  LORD CAVERSHAM (caustically): You can have till dinner-time if it would 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 you have read The Times this morning?

  LORD GORING (airily): The Times} Certainly not. I only read The Morning Post. All that one should know about modern life is where the Duchesses are; anything else is quite demoralising.

  LORD CAVERSHAM: Do you mean to say you have not read The Times leading article on Robert Chiltern’s career?

  LORD GORING: Good heavens! No. What does it say?

  LORD CAVERSHAM: What should it say, sir? Everything complimentary, of course. Chiltern’s speech last night on this Argentine Canal scheme was one of the finest pieces of oratory ever delivered in the House since Canning.

  LORD GORING: Ah! Never heard of Canning. Never wanted to. And did…did Chiltern uphold the scheme?

  LORD CAVERSHAM: Uphold it, sir? How little you know him! Why, he denounced it roundly, and the whole system of modern political finance. This speech is the turning-point in his career, as The Times points out. You should read this article, sir. (Opens The Times.) ‘Sir Robert Chiltern…most rising of our young statesmen…Brilliant orator…Unblemished career…Well-known integrity of character…Represents what is best in English public life…Noble contrast to the lax morality so common among foreign politicians.’ They will never say that of you, sir.

  LORD GORING: I sincerely hope not, father. However, I am delighted at what you tell me about Robert, thoroughly delighted. It shows he has got pluck.

  LORD CAVERSHAM: He has got more than pluck, sir, he has got genius.

  LORD GORING: Ah! I prefer pluck. It is not so common, nowadays, as genius is.

  LORD CAVERSHAM: I wish you would go into Parliament.

  LORD GORING: My dear father, only people who look dull ever get into the House of Commons, and only people who are dull ever succeed there.

  LORD CAVERSHAM: Why don’t you try to do something useful in life?

  LORD GORING: I am far too young.

  LORD CAVERSHAM (testily): I hate this affectation of youth, sir. It is a great deal too prevalent nowadays.

  LORD GORING: Youth isn’t an affectation. Youth is an art.

  LORD CAVERSHAM: Why don’t you propose to that pretty Miss Chiltern?

  LORD GORING: I am of a very nervous disposition, especially in the morning.

  LORD CAVERSHAM: I don’t suppose there is the smallest chance of her accepting you.

  LORD GORING: I don’t know how the betting stands to-day.

  LORD CAVERSHAM: If she did accept you she would be the prettiest fool in England.

  LORD GORING: That is just what I should like to marry. A thoroughly sensible wife would reduce me to a condition of absolute idiocy in less than six months.

  LORD CAVERSHAM: You don’t deserve her, sir.

  LORD GORING: My dear father, if we men married the women we deserved, we should have a very bad time of it.

  Enter MABEL CHILTERN.

  MABEL CHILTERN: Oh!…How do you do, Lord Caversham? I hope Lady Caversham is quite well?

  LORD CAVERSHAM: Lady Caversham is as usual, as usual.

  LORD GORING: Good-morning, Miss Mabel!

  MABEL CHILTERN (taking no notice at all of LORD GORING, and addressing herself exclusively to LORD CAVERSHAM): And Lady Caversham’s bonnets…are they at all better?

  LORD CAVERSHAM: They have had a serious relapse, I am sorry to say.

  LORD GORING: Good-morning, Miss Mabel.

  MABEL CHILTERN (to LORD CAVERSHAM): I hope an operation will not be necessary.

  LORD CAVERSHAM (smiling at her pertness): If it is, we shall have to give Lady Caversham a narcotic. Otherwise she would never consent to have a feather touched.

  LORD GORING (with increased emphasis): Good-morning, Miss Mabel!

  MABEL CHILTERN (turning round with feigned surprise): Oh, are you here? Of course you understand that after your breaking your appointment I am never going to speak to you again.

  LORD GORING: Oh, please don’t say such a thing. You are the one person in London 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 each other.

  LORD CAVERSHAM: You are quite right, my dear, quite right as far as he is concerned, I mean.

  MABEL CHILTERN: Do you think you could possibly make your son behave a little better occasionally? Just as a change.

  LORD CAVERSHAM: I regret to say, Miss Chiltern, that I have no influence at all over my son. I wish I had. If I had, I know what I would make him do.

  MABEL CHILTERN: I am afraid that he has one of those terribly weak natures that are not susceptible to influence.

  LORD CAVERSHAM: He is very heartless, very heartless.

  LORD GORING: It seems to me that I am a little in the way here.

  MABEL CHILTERN: It is very good for you to be in the way, and to know what people say of you behind your back.

  LORD GORING: I don’t at all like knowing what people say of me behind my back. It makes me far too conceited.

  LORD CAVERSHAM: After that, my dear, I really must bid you good-morning.

  MABEL CHILTERN: Oh! I hope you 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 I can’t take him with me to Downing Street. It is not the Prime Minister’s day for seeing the unemployed.

  Shakes hands with MABEL CHILTERN, takes up his hat and stic
k, and goes out, with a parting glare of indignation at LORD GORING.

  MABEL CHILTERN (takes up roses and begins to arrange them in a bowl on the table): People who don’t keep their appointments in the Park are horrid.

  LORD GORING: Detestable.

  MABEL CHILTERN: I am glad you admit it. But I wish you wouldn’t look so pleased about it.

  LORD GORING: I can’t help it. I always look pleased when I am with you.

  MABEL CHILTERN (sadly): Then I suppose it is my duty to remain with you?

  LORD GORING: Of course it is.

  MABEL CHILTERN: Well, my duty is a thing I never do, on principle. It always depresses me. So I am afraid I must leave you.

  LORD GORING: Please don’t, Miss Mabel. I have something very particular to say to you.

  MABEL CHILTERN (rapturously): Oh! Is it a proposal?

  LORD GORING (somewhat taken aback): Well, yes it is – I am bound to say it is.

  MABEL CHILTERN (with a sigh of pleasure): I am so glad. That makes the second to-day.

  LORD GORING (indignantly): The second to-day? What conceited ass has been impertinent enough to dare to propose to you before I had proposed to you?

  MABEL CHILTERN: Tommy Trafford, of course. It is one of Tommy’s days for proposing. He always proposes on Tuesdays and Thursdays, during the Season.

  LORD GORING: You didn’t accept him, I hope?

  MABEL CHILTERN: I make it a rule never to accept Tommy. That is why he goes on proposing. Of course, as you didn’t turn up this morning, I very nearly said yes. It would have been an excellent lesson both for him and for you if I had. It would have taught you both better manners.

  LORD GORING: Oh! Bother Tommy Trafford. Tommy is a silly little ass. I love you.

  MABEL CHILTERN: I know. And I think you might have mentioned it before. I am sure I have given you heaps of opportunities.

  LORD GORING: Mabel, do be serious. Please be serious.

  MABEL CHILTERN: Ah! That is the sort of thing a man always says to a girl before he has been married to her. He never says it afterwards.

  LORD GORING (taking hold of her hand): Mabel, I have told you that I love you. Can’t you love me a little in return?

  MABEL CHILTERN: You silly Arthur! If you knew anything about…anything, which you don’t, you would know that I adore you. Every one in London knows it except you. It is a public scandal the way I adore you. I have been going about for the last six months telling the whole of society that I adore you. I wonder you consent to have anything to say to me. I have no character left at all. At least, I feel so happy that I am quite sure I have no character left at all.

  LORD GORING (catches her in his arms and kisses her. Then there is a pause of bliss): Dear! Do you know I was awfully afraid of being refused!

  MABEL CHILTERN (looking up at him): But you never have been refused yet by anybody, have you, Arthur? I can’t imagine any one refusing you.

  LORD GORING (after kissing her again): Of course I’m not nearly good enough for you, Mabel.

  MABEL CHILTERN (nestling close to him): I am so glad, darling. I was afraid you were.

  LORD GORING (after some hesitation): And I’m…I’m a little over thirty.

  MABEL CHILTERN: Dear, you look weeks younger than that.

  LORD GORING (enthusiastically): How sweet of you to say so!…And it is only to fair to tell you frankly that I am fearfully extravagant.

  MABEL CHILTERN: But so am I, Arthur. So we’re sure to agree. And now I must go and see Gertrude.

  LORD GORING: Must you really? (Kisses her.)

  MABEL CHILTERN: Yes.

  LORD GORING: Then do tell her I want to talk to her particularly. I have been waiting here all the morning to see either her or Robert.

  MABEL CHILTERN: Do you mean to say you didn’t come here expressly to propose to me?

  LORD GORING (triumphantly): No; that was a flash of genius.

  MABEL CHILTERN: Your first.

  LORD GORING (with determination): My last.

  MABEL CHILTERN: I am delighted to hear it. Now don’t stir. I’ll be back in five minutes. And don’t fall into any temptations while I am away.

  LORD GORING: Dear Mabel, while you are away, there are none. It makes me horribly dependent on you.

  Enter LADY CHILTERN.

  LADY CHILTERN: Good-morning, dear! How pretty you are looking!

  MABEL CHILTERN: How pale you are looking, Gertrude! It is most becoming!

  LADY CHILTERN: Good-morning, Lord Goring!

  LORD GORING (bowing): Good-morning, Lady Chiltern!

  MABEL CHILTERN (aside to LORD GORING): I shall be in the conservatory, under the second palm tree on the left.

  LORD GORING: Second on the left?

  MABEL CHILTERN (with a look of mock surprise): Yes; the usual palm tree.

  Blows a kiss to him, unobserved by LADY CHILTERN, and goes out.

  LORD GORING: Lady Chiltern, I have a certain amount of very good news to tell you. Mrs. Cheveley gave me up Robert’s letter last night, and I burned it. Robert is safe.

  LADY CHILTERN (sinking on the sofa): Safe! Oh! I am so glad of that. What a good friend you are to him – to us!

  LORD GORING: There is only one person now that could be said to be in any danger.

  LADY CHILTERN: Who is that?

  LORD GORING (sitting down beside her): Yourself.

  LADY CHILTERN: I! In danger? What do you mean?

  LORD GORING: Danger is too great 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 me a very beautiful, womanly letter, asking me for my help. You wrote to me as one of your oldest friends, one of your husband’s oldest friends. Mrs. Cheveley stole that letter from my rooms.

  LADY CHILTERN: Well, what use is it to her? Why should she not have it?

  LORD GORING (rising): Lady Chiltern, I will be quite frank with you. Mrs. Cheveley puts a certain construction on that letter and proposes to send it to your husband.

  LADY CHILTERN: But what construction could she put on it?…Oh! Not that! Not that! 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 me what happened. Tell me all that happened.

  LORD GORING: Mrs. Cheveley was concealed in a room adjoining my library, without my knowledge. I thought that the person who was waiting in that room to see me was yourself. Robert came in unexpectedly. A chair or something fell in the room. He forced his way in, and he discovered her. We had a terrible scene. I still thought it was you. He left me in anger. At the end of everything Mrs. Cheveley got possession of your letter – she stole it, when or how, I don’t know.

  LADY CHILTERN: At what hour did this happen?

  LORD GORING: At half-past ten. And now I propose that we tell Robert the whole thing at once.

  LADY CHILTERN (looking at him with amazement that is almost terror): You want me to tell Robert that the woman you expected was not Mrs. Cheveley, but myself? That it was I whom you thought was concealed in a room in your house, at half-past ten o’clock at night? You want me to tell him that?

  LORD GORING: I think it is better that he should know the exact truth.

  LADY CHILTERN (rising): Oh, I couldn’t, I couldn’t!

  LORD GORING: May I do it?

  LADY CHILTERN: No.

  LORD GORING (gravely): You are wrong, Lady Chiltern.

  LADY CHILTERN: No. The letter must be intercepted. That is all. But how can I do it? Letters arrive for him every moment of the day. His secretaries open them and hand them to him. I dare not ask the servants to bring me his letters. It would be impossible. Oh! Why don’t you tell me what to do?

  LORD GORING: Pray be calm, Lady Chiltern, and answer the questions I am going to put to you. You said his secretaries open his letters.

  LADY CHILTERN: Yes.

  LORD GORING: Who is w
ith him to-day? Mr. Trafford, isn’t it?

  LADY CHILTERN: No, Mr. Montford, I think.

  LORD GORING: You can trust him?

  LADY CHILTERN (with a gesture of despair): Oh! How do I know?

  LORD GORING: He would do what you asked him, wouldn’t he?

  LADY CHILTERN: I think so.

  LORD GORING: Your letter was on pink paper. He could recognise it without reading it, couldn’t he? By the colour?

  LADY CHILTERN: I suppose so.

  LORD GORING: Is he in the house now?

  LADY CHILTERN: Yes.

  LORD GORING: Then I will go and see him myself, and tell him that a certain letter, written on pink paper, is to be forwarded to Robert to-day, and that at all costs it must not reach him. (Goes to the door, and opens it.) Oh! Robert is coming upstairs with the letter in his hand. It has reached him already.

  LADY CHILTERN (with a cry of pain): Oh! You have saved his life; what have you done with mine?

  Enter SIR ROBERT CHILTERN. He has the letter in his hand, and is reading it. He comes towards his wife, not noticing LORD GORING’S presence.

  SIR ROBERT CHILTERN: ‘I want you. I trust you. I am coming to you. Gertrude. ’ Oh, my love! Is this true? Do you indeed trust me, and want me? If so, it was for me to come to you, not for you to write of coming to me. This letter of yours, Gertrude, makes me feel that nothing that the world may do can hurt me now. You want me, Gertrude.

  LORD GORING, unseen by SIR ROBERT CHILTERN, makes an imploring sign to LADY CHILTERN to accept the situation and SIR ROBERT’S error.

  LADY CHILTERN: Yes.

  SIR ROBERT CHILTERN: You trust me, Gertrude?

  LADY CHILTERN: Yes.

  SIR ROBERT CHILTERN: Ah! Why did you not add you loved me?

  LADY CHILTERN (taking his hand): Because I loved you.

  LORD GORING passes into the conservatory.

  SIR ROBERT CHILTERN (kisses her): Gertrude, you don’t know what I feel. When Montford passed me your letter across the table – he had opened it by mistake, I suppose, without looking at the handwriting on the envelope – and I read it – oh! I did not care what disgrace or punishment was in store for me, I only thought you loved me still.