An ideal husband
him, that I had need of him, that I was coming to him for help and
advice. [SIR ROBERT CHILTERN _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 help can come. Pride made me think that.
Mrs. Cheveley went. She stole my letter and sent it anonymously to you
this morning, that you should think . . . Oh! Robert, I cannot tell you
what she wished you to think. . . .
SIR ROBERT CHILTERN. What! Had I fallen so low in your eyes that you
thought that even for a moment I could have doubted your goodness?
Gertrude, Gertrude, you are to me the white image of all good things, and
sin can never touch you. Arthur, you can go to Mabel, and you have my
best wishes! Oh! stop a moment. There is no name at the beginning of
this letter. The brilliant Mrs. Cheveley does not seem to have noticed
that. There should be a name.
LADY CHILTERN. Let me write yours. It is you I trust and need. You and
none else.
LORD GORING. Well, really, Lady Chiltern, I think I should have back my
own letter.
LADY CHILTERN. [_Smiling_.] No; you shall have Mabel. [_Takes the
letter and writes her husband’s name on it_.]
LORD GORING. Well, I hope she hasn’t changed her mind. It’s nearly
twenty minutes since I saw her last.
[_Enter_ MABEL CHILTERN _and_ LORD CAVERSHAM.]
MABEL CHILTERN. Lord Goring, I think your father’s conversation much
more improving than yours. I am only going to talk to Lord Caversham in
the future, 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, clever young lady has been so
foolish as to accept you?
LORD GORING. Certainly, father! And Chiltern’s been wise enough to
accept the seat in the Cabinet.
LORD CAVERSHAM. I am very glad to hear that, Chiltern . . . I
congratulate you, sir. If the country doesn’t go to the dogs or the
Radicals, we shall have you Prime Minister, some day.
[_Enter_ MASON.]
MASON. Luncheon is on the table, my Lady!
[MASON _goes out_.]
MABEL CHILTERN. You’ll stop to luncheon, Lord Caversham, won’t you?
LORD CAVERSHAM. With pleasure, and I’ll drive you down to Downing Street
afterwards, Chiltern. You have a great future before you, a great
future. Wish I could say the same for you, sir. [_To_ LORD GORING.]
But your career will have to be entirely domestic.
LORD GORING. Yes, father, I prefer it domestic.
LORD CAVERSHAM. And if you don’t make this young lady an ideal husband,
I’ll cut you off with a shilling.
MABEL CHILTERN. An ideal husband! Oh, I don’t think I should like that.
It sounds like something in the next world.
LORD CAVERSHAM. What do you want him to be then, dear?
MABEL CHILTERN. He can be what 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 except_ SIR ROBERT CHILTERN. _He sinks in a chair_,
_wrapt in thought_. _After a little time_ LADY CHILTERN _returns to look
for him_.]
LADY CHILTERN. [_Leaning over the back of the chair_.] Aren’t you
coming in, Robert?
SIR ROBERT CHILTERN. [_Taking her hand_.] Gertrude, is it love you feel
for me, or is it pity merely?
LADY CHILTERN. [_Kisses him_.] It is love, Robert. Love, and only
love. For both of us a new life is beginning.
CURTAIN
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THE NORTHUMBERLAND PRESS, NEWCASTLE-UPON-TYNE