An ideal husband
night, and not quite enough clothes. That is always a sign of despair in
a woman.
SIR ROBERT CHILTERN. [_Striking a bell_.] But it is worth while my
wiring to Vienna, is it not?
LORD GORING. It is always worth while asking a question, though it is
not always worth while answering one.
[_Enter_ MASON.]
SIR ROBERT CHILTERN. Is Mr. Trafford in his room?
MASON. Yes, Sir Robert.
SIR ROBERT CHILTERN. [_Puts what he has written into an envelope_,
_which he then carefully closes_.] Tell him to have this sent off in
cipher at once. There must not be a moment’s delay.
MASON. Yes, Sir Robert.
SIR ROBERT CHILTERN. Oh! just give that back to me again.
[_Writes something on the envelope_. MASON _then goes out with the
letter_.]
SIR ROBERT CHILTERN. She must have had some curious hold over Baron
Arnheim. I wonder what it was.
LORD GORING. [_Smiling_.] I wonder.
SIR ROBERT CHILTERN. I will fight her to the death, as long as my wife
knows nothing.
LORD GORING. [_Strongly_.] Oh, fight in any case—in any case.
SIR ROBERT CHILTERN. [_With a gesture of despair_.] If my wife found
out, there would be little left to fight for. Well, as soon as I hear
from Vienna, I shall let you know the result. It is a chance, just a
chance, but I believe in it. And as I fought the age with its own
weapons, I will fight her with her weapons. It is only fair, and she
looks like a woman with a past, doesn’t she?
LORD GORING. Most pretty women do. But there is a fashion in pasts just
as there is a fashion in frocks. Perhaps Mrs. Cheveley’s past is merely
a slightly décolleté one, and they are excessively popular nowadays.
Besides, my dear Robert, I should not build too high hopes on frightening
Mrs. Cheveley. I should not fancy Mrs. Cheveley is a woman who would be
easily frightened. She has survived all her creditors, and she shows
wonderful presence of mind.
SIR ROBERT CHILTERN. Oh! I live on hopes now. I clutch at every chance.
I feel like a man on a ship that is sinking. The water is round my feet,
and the very air is bitter with storm. Hush! I hear my wife’s voice.
[_Enter_ LADY CHILTERN _in walking dress_.]
LADY CHILTERN. Good afternoon, Lord Goring!
LORD GORING. Good afternoon, Lady Chiltern! Have you been in the Park?
LADY CHILTERN. No; I have just come from the Woman’s Liberal
Association, where, by the way, Robert, your name was received with loud
applause, and now I have come in to have my tea. [_To_ LORD GORING.]
You will wait and have some tea, won’t you?
LORD GORING. I’ll wait for a short time, thanks.
LADY CHILTERN. I will be back in a moment. I am only going to take my
hat off.
LORD GORING. [_In his most earnest manner_.] Oh! please don’t. It is
so pretty. One of the prettiest hats I ever saw. I hope the Woman’s
Liberal Association received it with loud applause.
LADY CHILTERN. [_With a smile_.] We have much more important work to do
than look 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, the Eight Hours’ Bill, the Parliamentary Franchise. . . .
Everything, in fact, that you would find thoroughly uninteresting.
LORD GORING. And never bonnets?
LADY CHILTERN. [_With mock indignation_.] Never bonnets, never!
[LADY CHILTERN _goes out through the door leading to her boudoir_.]
SIR ROBERT CHILTERN. [_Takes_ LORD GORING’S _hand_.] You have been a
good friend to me, Arthur, a thoroughly good friend.
LORD GORING. I don’t know that I have been able to do much for you,
Robert, as yet. In fact, I have not been able to do anything for you, as
far as I can see. I am thoroughly disappointed with myself.
SIR ROBERT CHILTERN. You have enabled me to tell you the truth. That is
something. The truth has always stifled me.
LORD GORING. Ah! the truth is a thing I get rid of as soon as possible!
Bad habit, by the way. Makes one very unpopular at the club . . . with
the older members. They call it being conceited. Perhaps it is.
SIR ROBERT CHILTERN. I would to God that I had been able to tell the
truth . . . to live the truth. Ah! that is the great thing in life, to
live the truth. [_Sighs_, _and goes towards the door_.] I’ll see you
soon again, Arthur, shan’t I?
LORD GORING. Certainly. Whenever you like. I’m going to look in at the
Bachelors’ Ball to-night, unless I find something better to do. But I’ll
come round to-morrow morning. If you should want me to-night by any
chance, send round a note to Curzon Street.
SIR ROBERT CHILTERN. Thank you.
[_As he reaches the door_, LADY CHILTERN _enters from her boudoir_.]
LADY CHILTERN. You are not going, Robert?
SIR ROBERT CHILTERN. I have some letters to write, dear.
LADY CHILTERN. [_Going to him_.] You work too hard, Robert. You seem
never to think of yourself, and you are looking so tired.
SIR ROBERT CHILTERN. It is nothing, dear, nothing.
[_He kisses her and goes out_.]
LADY CHILTERN. [_To_ LORD 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 Liberal Association. You take far too much interest in the
first subject, and not nearly enough in the second.
LORD GORING. You want to talk to me about Mrs. Cheveley?
LADY CHILTERN. Yes. You have guessed it. After you left last night I
found out that what she had said was really true. Of course I made
Robert write her a letter at once, withdrawing his promise.
LORD GORING. So he gave me to understand.
LADY CHILTERN. To have kept it would have been the first stain on a
career that has been stainless always. Robert must be above reproach.
He is not like other men. He cannot afford to do what other men do.
[_She looks at_ LORD GORING, _who remains silent_.] Don’t you agree with
me? You are Robert’s greatest friend. You are our greatest friend, Lord
Goring. No one, except myself, knows Robert better than you do. He has
no secrets from me, and I don’t think he has any from you.
LORD GORING. He certainly has no secrets from me. At least I don’t
think so.
LADY CHILTERN. Then am I not right in my estimate of him? I know I am
right. But speak to me frankly.
LORD GORING. [_Looking straight 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 say so, that in practical life—
LADY CHILTERN. [_Smiling_.] Of which you know so little, Lord Goring—
LORD GORING. Of which I know nothing by experience, though I know
something by observation. I think that in practical life there is
something about success, actual success, that is a little unscrupulous,
something about ambition that is unscrupulous always. Once a man has set
his heart and soul on getting to a 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 the mire. Of course I am only talking
generally about life.
LADY CHILTERN. [_Gravely_.] I hope so. Why do you look at me so
strangely, Lord Goring?
LORD GORING. Lady Chiltern, I have sometimes thought that . . . perhaps
you are a little hard in some of your views on life. I think that . . .
often you don’t make sufficient allowances. In every nature there are
elements of weakness, or worse than weakness. Supposing, for instance,
that—that any public man, my father, or Lord Merton, or Robert, say, had,
years ago, written some foolish letter to some one . . .
LADY CHILTERN. What do you mean by a foolish letter?
LORD GORING. A letter gravely compromising one’s position. I am only
putting an imaginary case.
LADY CHILTERN. Robert is as incapable of doing a foolish thing as he is
of doing a wrong thing.
LORD GORING. [_After a long pause_.] Nobody is incapable of doing a
foolish thing. Nobody is incapable of doing a wrong thing.
LADY CHILTERN. Are you a Pessimist? What will the other dandies say?
They will all have to go into mourning.
LORD GORING. [_Rising_.] No, Lady Chiltern, I am not a Pessimist.
Indeed I am not sure that I quite know what Pessimism really means. All
I do know is that life cannot be understood without much charity, cannot
be lived without much charity. It is love, and not German philosophy,
that is the true explanation of this world, whatever may be the
explanation of the next. And if you are ever in trouble, Lady Chiltern,
trust me absolutely, and I will help you in every way I can. If you ever
want me, come to me for my assistance, and you shall have it. Come at
once to me.
LADY CHILTERN. [_Looking at him in surprise_.] Lord Goring, you are
talking quite seriously. I don’t think I ever heard you talk seriously
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 you to be serious.
[_Enter_ MABEL CHILTERN, _in the most ravishing frock_.]
MABEL CHILTERN. Dear Gertrude, don’t say such a dreadful thing to Lord
Goring. Seriousness would be very unbecoming to him. Good afternoon
Lord Goring! Pray be as trivial as you can.
LORD GORING. I should like to, Miss Mabel, but I am afraid I am . . . a
little out of practice this morning; and besides, I have to be going now.
MABEL CHILTERN. Just when I have come in! What dreadful manners you
have! I am sure you were very badly brought up.
LORD GORING. I was.
MABEL CHILTERN. I wish I had brought you up!
LORD GORING. I am so sorry you didn’t.
MABEL CHILTERN. It is too late now, I suppose?
LORD GORING. [_Smiling_.] I am not so sure.
MABEL CHILTERN. Will you ride to-morrow morning?
LORD GORING. Yes, at ten.
MABEL CHILTERN. Don’t forget.
LORD GORING. Of course I shan’t. By the way, Lady Chiltern, there is no
list of your guests in _The Morning Post_ of to-day. It has apparently
been crowded out by the County Council, or the Lambeth Conference, or
something equally boring. Could you let me have 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, so much.
MABEL CHILTERN. Tommy is the most useful person in London.
LORD GORING [_Turning to her_.] And who is the most ornamental?
MABEL CHILTERN [_Triumphantly_.] I am.
LORD GORING. How clever of you to guess it! [_Takes up his hat and
cane_.] Good-bye, Lady Chiltern! You will remember what I said to you,
won’t you?
LADY CHILTERN. Yes; but I don’t know why you said it to me.
LORD GORING. I hardly know myself. Good-bye, Miss Mabel!
MABEL CHILTERN [_With a little moue of disappointment_.] I wish you were
not going. I have had four wonderful adventures this morning; four and a
half, in fact. You might stop and listen to some of them.
LORD GORING. How very selfish of you to have four and a half! There
won’t be any left for me.
MABEL CHILTERN. I don’t want you to have any. They would not be good
for you.
LORD GORING. That is the first unkind thing you have ever said to me.
How charmingly you said it! Ten to-morrow.
MABEL CHILTERN. Sharp.
LORD GORING. Quite sharp. But don’t bring Mr. Trafford.
MABEL CHILTERN. [_With a little toss of the head_.] Of course I shan’t
bring Tommy Trafford. Tommy Trafford is in great disgrace.
LORD GORING. I am delighted to hear it. [_Bows and goes out_.]
MABEL CHILTERN. Gertrude, I wish you would speak to Tommy Trafford.
LADY CHILTERN. What has poor Mr. Trafford done this time? Robert says
he is the best secretary he has ever had.