Classic Audiobook Collection - An Ideal Husband by Oscar Wilde ~ Full Audiobook [comedy]

Episode Date: April 17, 2023

An Ideal Husband by Oscar Wilde audiobook. Genre: comedy In the glittering drawing rooms of late-Victorian London, Sir Robert Chiltern seems to have everything: a brilliant political career, a spotless public reputation, and the devoted love of his wife, Lady Chiltern, who believes in honor without compromise. But their carefully composed world begins to tremble when Mrs. Cheveley, a clever and dangerous society woman with a talent for leverage, arrives with information that could ruin Sir Robert overnight. As whispers spread and alliances shift, Sir Robert must choose between protecting his position and telling the truth to the person whose opinion matters most. Caught in the middle is Lord Goring, a witty bachelor and close friend to the Chilterns, whose charm and apparent frivolity conceal a sharper sense of loyalty and strategy. With epigrams as sharp as daggers and manners that mask motives, Wilde turns social comedy into a biting examination of hypocrisy, ambition, and the price of moral perfection. As pressure mounts and secrets threaten to surface, the characters must confront what an 'ideal' person really is - and what it costs to maintain that illusion. For ad-free listening try our premium subscription Chapters (Approximate) (00:00:00) Chapter 1 (00:57:44) Chapter 2 (01:53:15) Chapter 3 (02:38:58) Chapter 4 Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

An Ideal Husband by Oscar Wilde. First act. Scene. The Octagon Room at Sir Robert Chilton's house in Groves'na Square. The room is brilliantly lighted and full of guests. At the top of the staircase stands Lady Chiltern, a woman of grave Greek beauty, about 27 years of age. She receives the guests as they come up. Over the well of the staircase hangs a great chandelier with wax lights,

which illumine a large 18th century French tapestry representing the triumph of love from a design by Boucher that is stretched on the staircase wall. On the right is the entrance to the music room. The sound of a string quartet is faintly heard. The entrance on the left leads to other reception rooms. Mrs. Marchmont and Lady Basilden, two very pretty women, are seated together on a Luisès sofa.

There are types of exquisite fragility. Their affectation of manner has a delicate charm. Wotto would have loved to paint them. Going on to the heartlocks tonight, Margaret? I suppose so. Are you? Yes. Horrible tedious parties they give, don't they? Horribly tedious. Never know why I go. Never know why I go anywhere. I come here to be educated. Ah, I hate being educated. So do I. It puts one almost on a level with the commercial classes, doesn't it? But dear Jatru Chilterns is always telling me that I should have some serious purpose in life,

so I come here to try to find one. Looking round through her lorgnette. I don't see anybody here tonight, whom one could possibly call a serious purpose. The man who took me into dinner Talked to me about his wife the whole time How very trivial of him Terribly trivial What did your man talk about?

About myself? Languidly And were you interested? Shaking her head Not in the smallest degree What martyrs we are, dear Margaret. Rising And how well it becomes us, Olivia?

They rise and go towards the music room. The Viscont de Nonsac, a young attache known for his neckties and his Anglomania, approaches with a low bow and enters into conversation, announcing guests from the top of the staircase. Mr. and Lady Jane Barford. Lord Cavarsham. Enter Lord Cavarsham, an old gentleman of 70, wearing the riband and star of the garter,

a fine wig type, rather like a portrait of. by Lawrence. Good evening Lady Chilton. Has my good-for-nothing young son been here? Smiling. I don't think Lord Goring has arrived yet. Coming up to Lord Cavarsham. Why do you call Lord Goring good for nothing? Mabel Chilton is a perfect example of the English type of prettiness, the apple-blossom type. She has all the fragrance and freedom of a flower. There is a ripple after ripple of sunlight in her hair, and the little mouth with its parted lips is expectant, like the mouth of a child. She has the fascinating tyranny of youth and the astonishing courage of innocence. To sane people she is not reminiscent of any work of art,

but she is really like a Tanagra statuette, and would be rather annoyed if she were told so. Because he leads such an idle life. How can you say such a thing? Why, he rides in the row at ten o'clock in the morning, goes to the opera three times a week. Changes his clothes at least five times a day, and dines out every night of the season. You don't call that leading an idle life, do you?

Looking at her with a kindly twinkle in his eyes. You are a very charming young lady. How sweet of you to say that, Lord Kavisham. Do come to us more often. You know we are always at home on Wednesdays, and you look so well with your star. Never go anywhere now. Sick of London society. Shouldn't mind been introduced to my own tailor.

He always votes on the right side, but object strongly to being sent down to dinner with my wife's milliner. Never could stand Lady Kavisham's bonnets. Oh, I love London society. I think it has immensely improved. It is entirely composed now of beautiful idiots and brilliant lunatics, just what society should be. Hum, which is goring, beautiful idiot,

or the other thing? Gravely. I have been obliged for the present to put Lord Goring into a class quite by himself, but he is developing charmingly. Into what? With a little curtsey. I hope to let you know very soon, Lord Cavisham. Announcing guests.

Lady Markby, Mrs Chevely. Enter Lady Markby and Mrs. Jeevely. Lady Markby is a pleasant, kindly popular. woman with grey hair, a marquis, and good lace. Mrs. Chiefly, who accompanies her, is tall and rather slight, lips very thin and highly coloured, a line of scarlet on a pallid face. Venetian red hair, aquiline nose and long throat. Rouge accentuates the natural paleness of her complexion, grey-green eyes that move restlessly. She is in heliotrope, with diamonds. She looks rather like an orchid and makes great demands on one's curiosity.

In all her movements, she is extremely graceful, a work of art on the whole but showing the influence of too many schools. Good evening, dear Gertrude, so kind of you to let me win my friend Mrs. Chevely. Two such charming women should know each other. Advances towards Mrs. Chevely with a sweet smile, then suddenly stops and bows rather distantly. I think Mrs. Chevely and I have met before. I did not know she had married a second time. Genially. are nowadays people marry as often as they can, don't they?

It is most fashionable. Two Duchess of Maybro. Two Duchess, and how is the Duke? Brain's still weak, I suppose. Well, that is only to be expected, is it not? His good father was just the same. There's nothing like race, is there? Playing with her fan.

But have we really met before, Lady Chiltern? I can't remember where. I have been out of England for so long. We were at school together, Mrs. Chevely. Superciliously. Indeed. I have forgotten all about my school days. I have a vague impression that they were detestable. Coldly.

I am not surprised. In her sweetest manner. Do you know I am quite looking forward to meeting your clever husband, Lady Chiltern, since he has been at the foreign office he has been so much talked of in vienna they actually succeed in spelling his name right in the newspapers that in itself is fame on the continent i hardly think there will be much in common between you and my husband mrs chevely moves away ah jeer-madame ques surprise i have not seen you since berlin not since berlin vicomte Five years ago. And you are younger and more beautiful than ever. How do you manage it?

By making it a rule only to talk to perfectly charming people like yourself. Oh, you flatter me, you butter me as they say here. Do they say that here? How dreadful of them. Yes, they have a wonderful language. It should be more widely known. Sir Robert Chilton enters, a man of forty but looking somewhat younger, clean-shaven with finely-cut features, dark-haired and dark-eyed, a personality of mark. Not popular, few personalities are, but intensely admired by the few and deeply respected by the many. The note of his manner is that of perfect distinction, with a slight touch of pride, one feels that he is conscious of the success he has made in life. A nervous of the temperament with a tired look. The firmly chiseled mouth and chin contrasts strikingly with the romantic expression in the deep-set eyes. The variance is suggestive of an almost complete separation of passion and intellect, as though thought and emotion were each isolated in its own sphere

through some violence of willpower. There is nervousness in the nostrils and in the pale, thin, pointed hands. It would not be accurate, to call him picturesque. picturesqueness cannot survive the House of Commons, but Van Dyck would have liked to have painted his head. Good evening, Lady Markby. I hope you've brought Sir John with you. Oh, I have brought a much more charming person than Sir John. Sir John's temper since he has taken seriously to politics has become quite unbearable. Really, now that the House of Commons is trying to become useful, it does a great deal of harm. I hope not, Lady Markby. At any rate, we do our best.

best to waste the public time, don't we? But who is this charming person you've been kind enough to bring to us? Her name is Mrs. Chevely, one of the dorsatured Chevely's, I suppose, but I really don't know. Families are so mixed nowadays. Indeed, as a rule, everybody turns out to be somebody else. Mrs. Chevely, I seem to know the name. She has just arrived from Vienna. Ah, yes, I think I know whom you mean. she goes everywhere there and has such pleasant scandals about all her friends. I really must go to Vienna next winter. I hope there is a good chef at the embassy. If there is not, the ambassador will certainly have to be recalled.

Pray point out Mrs. Chevely to me, I should like to see her. Let me introduce you. To Mrs. Chevely. My dear, Sir Robert Chiltern is dying to know you. Bowing. Everyone is dying to know the brilliant Mrs. Chevely. Pache's at Vienna write to us about nothing else. Thank you, Sir, Robert.

An acquaintance that begins with a compliment is sure to develop into a real friendship. It starts in the right manner. And I find that I know Lady Chiltern already. Really? Yes, she has just reminded me that we were at school together. I remember it perfectly now. She always got the good conduct prize.

I have a distinct recollection of Lady Chiltern, always getting the good conduct prize. Smiling. And what prizes did you get, Mrs. Chevely? My prizes came a little later on in life. I don't think any of them were for good conduct. I forget. I'm sure they were for something charming.

I don't know that women are always rewarded for being charming. I think they are usually punished for it. Certainly, more women grow old nowadays through the faithfulness of their admirers than through anything else. At least that is the only way I can account for the terribly haggard look of most of your pretty women in London. What an appalling philosophy that sounds. To attempt to classify you, Mrs. Chivley, would be an impertinence. But may I ask, at heart, are you an optimist or a pessimist? Those seem to be the only two fashionable religions left to us nowadays.

Oh, I'm neither. Optimism begins in a broad grin, and pessimism ends with blue spectacle. besides they are both of them merely poses. You prefer to be natural? Sometimes, but it is such a very difficult pose to keep up. What would those modern psychological novelists of whom we hear so much say to such a theory as that? Ah, the strength of women comes from the fact that psychology cannot explain us. Men can be analyzed. Women merely adored.

You think science cannot grapple with the problem of women? Science can never grapple with the irrational. That is why it has no future before it in this world. And women represent the irrational. Well-dressed women do. With a polite bow. I fear I could hardly agree with you there. But do sit down.

And now tell me, what makes you leave your brilliant Vienna for our gloomy London? or perhaps the question is indiscreet. Questions are never indiscreet. Answers sometimes are. Well, at any rate, may I know if it is politics or pleasure? Politics are my only pleasure. You see, nowadays it is not fashionable to flirt until one is 40, or to be romantic till one is 45.

So we poor women who are under 30, or say we are, have nothing open to us but politics or philanthropy. And philanthropy seems to me to have become simply the refuge of people who wish to annoy their fellow creatures. I prefer politics. I think they are more becoming. A political life is a noble career. Sometimes, and sometimes it is a clever game, Sir Robert. And sometimes it is a great nuisance. Which do you find it?

I. A combination of all three. Drops her fan. Picks up fan. Allow me. Thanks. But you have not told me yet what makes you on a London so suddenly. Our season is almost over. Oh, I don't care about the London season.

It is too matrimonial. people are either hunting for husbands or hiding from them. I wanted to meet you. It is quite true. You know what a woman's curiosity is, almost as great as a man's. I wanted immensely to meet you, and to ask you to do something for me. I hope it is not a little thing, Mrs. Chevely. I find that little things are so very difficult to do. After a moment's reflection. No, I don't think it is quite a little thing. I'm so glad. Do tell me what it is.

Later on. Rises. And now may I walk through your beautiful house? I hear your pictures are charming. Poor Baron Arnheim. You remember the Baron? Used to tell me that you had some wonderful Corot. With an almost imperceptible start.

Did you know Baron Arnheim well? Smiling. Intimately. Did you? At one time. Wonderful man, wasn't he? After a pause. He was very remarkable in many ways. I often think it's such a pity he never wrote his memoirs.

They would have been most interesting. Yes, he knew men and cities well, like the old Greek. Without the dreadful disadvantage of having, a Penelope waiting at home for him. Lord Goring. Enter Lord Goring. 34, but always says he is younger. A well-bred, expressionless face.

He is clever, but would not like to be thought so. A flawless dandy he would be annoyed if he were considered romantic. He plays with life, and is on perfectly good terms with the world. He is fond of being misunderstood. It gives him a post of vantage. Good evening, my dear Arthur. Mrs. Chivley, allow me to introduce to you Lord Goring, the idlest man in London. I have met Lord Goring before.

Bowing. I did not think you would remember me, Miss Chively. My memory is under admirable control. And are you still a bachelor? I believe so. How very romantic! Oh, I am not at all romantic. I am not old enough.

I leave romance to my seniors. Lord Goring is the result of Boodle's Club, Mrs. Chevely. He reflects every credit on the institution. May I ask, are you staying in London long? That depends partly on the weather, partly on the cooking, and partly on Sir Robert. You're not going to plunge us into a European war, I hope. There is no danger at present.

She nods to Lord Goring with a look of amusement in her eyes and goes out with Sir Robert Chilton. Lord Goring sought us over to Mabel Chilton. You were very late. Have you missed me? Awfully. Then I am sorry I did not stay away longer. I like being missed. How very selfish of you!

I am very selfish. You are always telling me of your bad qualities, Lord Goring. I have only told you half of them as yet, Miss Mabel. Are the others very bad? Quite dreadful. When I think of them at night, I go to sleep at once. Well, I delight in your bad qualities. I wouldn't have you part with one of them.

How very nice of you. But then you are always nice. By the way, I want to ask you a question, Miss Mabel. Who brought Mrs. Chievely here? "'That woman in Heliotrope, who has just gone out to the room with your brother?' "'Oh, I think Lady Markby brought her. Why do you ask?' "'I haven't seen her for years, that is all.' "'What an absurd reason?'

"'All reasons are absurd.' "'What sort of woman is she?' "'Oh, a genius in the daytime, and a beauty at night.' "'I dislike her already.' that shows your admirable good taste approaching oh the english young lady is the dragon of good taste is you not quite the dragon of good taste so the newspapers are always telling us i read all your english newspapers i find them so amusing then my dear nanjak you must certainly read between the lines I should like to, but my professor objects. To Mabel Chilton.

May I have the pleasure of escorting you to the music-room, mademoiselle? Looking very disappointed. Delighted, Viscount, quite delighted. Turning to Lord Goring. Aren't you coming to the music room? Not if there is any music going on, Miss Mabel. Severely. The music is in German.

You would not understand it. "'Go out with the Viscount de Noghek. "'Lord Cavarsham comes up to his son. "'Well, sir, what are you doing here? "'Wasting your life as usual? "'You should be in bed, sir. "'You keep too late hours. "'I heard of you the other night at Lady Rufford's

"'dancing till four o'clock in the morning. "'Only a quarter to four, father. "'Can't make out how you stand, London society. "'The thing has gone to the dogs. "'A lot of damned nobody's talking about nothing.' I love talking about nothing, father. It is the only thing I know anything about. You seem to me to be living entirely for pleasure.

What else is there to live for, father? Nothing ages like happiness. You are heartless, sir, very heartless. I hope not, father. Good evening, Lady Basilden. Arching two pretty eyebrows. Are you here? I had no idea you ever came to political political

parties. I adore political parties. They are the only place left to us where people don't talk politics. I delight in talking politics. I talk them all day long, but I can't bear listening to them. I don't know how the unfortunate men in the house stand these long debates. By never listening. Really? In his most serious manner. Of course. You see, it is a very very very very dangerous thing to listen. If one listens, one may be convinced, and a man who allows himself to be convinced by an argument is a thoroughly unreasonable person. Ah, that accounts for so much in men that I have never understood, and so much in women,

that their husbands never appreciate in them. With a sigh. Our husbands never appreciate anything in us. We have to go to others for that. Yes, always to others, have we not? Smiling. And those are the views of the two ladies who are known to have the most admirable husbands in London. That is exactly what we can't stand. My original is quite hopelessly faultless.

He is really unendurably so at times. There is not the smallest element of excitement in knowing him. How terrible! Really, the thing should be more widely known. Basilden is quite as bad. He is as domestic as if he were a bachelor. Pressing Lady Basilden's hand. My poor Olivia, we have married perfect husbands, and we are well punished for it. I should have thought it was the husbands who were punished.

Drawing herself up. Oh, dear, no! They are as hell. happy as possible, and as for trusting us, it is tragic how much they trust us. Perfectly tragic. Or comic, Lady Basilden? Certainly not comic, Lord Goring. How unkind of you to suggest such a thing. I am afraid Lord Goring is in the camp of the enemy, as usual.

I saw him talking to that Mrs. Chivley when he came in. Handsome woman, Mrs. Chivley? stiffly. Please don't praise other women in our presence. You might wait for us to do that. I did wait. Well, we are not going to praise her. I hear she went to the opera on Monday night

and told Tommy Ruford at supper that, as far as she could see, London society was entirely made up of dowdies and dandies. She is quite right, too. The men are all dowdies, and the women are all dandies, aren't they? after a pause do you really think that is what mrs chively meant of course and a very sensible remark for miss chivalryly to make too enter mabel chiltern she joins the group why are you talking about mrs chivley everybody is talking about mrs chivley lord goring says what did you say lord goring about mrs chievelie oh i remember that she was a genius in the daytime and a beauty at night

what a hard combination so very unnatural in her most dreamy manner i like looking at geniuses and listening to beautiful people oh that is morbid of you mrs marchmont brightening to a look of real pleasure i am so glad to hear you say that marchmont and i have been married for seven years and he has never once told me that I was morbid. Men are so painfully unobservant. Turning to her. I have always said, dear Margaret, that you were the most morbid person in London. Oh, but you are always sympathetic, Olivia.

Is it morbid to have a desire for food? I have a great desire for food. Lord Goring, will you give me some supper? With pleasure, Miss Mabel. Moves away with her. How horrid you have been! You have never talked to me the whole evening. How could I?

You went away with a child diplomatist. You might have followed us. Pursuit would have been only polite. I don't think I like you at all this evening. I like you immensely. Well, I wish you'd show it in a more marked way. They'd go downstairs. Olivia, I have a curious feeling of absolute faintness.

I think I should like some sense. supper very much. I know I should like some supper. I am positively dying for supper, Margaret. Men are so horribly selfish. They never think of these things. Men are grossly material. Grossly material. The Vicomte de Nangerac enters from the music room with some other guests. After having carefully examined all the people present, he approaches Lady Basilden. May I have the honor of taking you down to supper. Comtesse? Coldly.

I never take supper. Thank you, Viscont. The Viscont is about to retire. Lady Basilden, seeing this, rises at once and takes his arm. But I will come down with you with pleasure. I am so fond of eating. I am very English in all my tastes.

You look quite English, Vagant. Quite English. They pass out. Mr. Montford, a perfectly groomed young dandy, approaches Mrs. Marchmont. Like some supper, Mrs. Marchmont? Languidly. Thank you, Mr. Montfort.

I never touch supper. Rises hastily and takes his arm. But I will sit beside you and watch you. I don't know that I like being watched when I'm eating. Then I will watch someone else. I don't know that I should like that either. Severely. Pray, Mr. Montfort, do not make these painful scenes of jealousy in public.

They go downstairs with the other guests, passing Sir Robert Chiltern and Mrs. Chevely, who now enter. And are you going to any of our country houses before you leave England, Mrs. Chevely? Oh, no, I cannot stand your English house parties. In England, people actually try to be brilliant at breakfast. That is so dreadful of them. Only dull people are brilliant at breakfast. And then the family skeleton is always reading family prayer. My stay in England really depends on you, Sir Robert.

Sits down on the sofa, taking a seat beside her. Seriously? Quite seriously. I want to talk to you about a great political and financial scheme, about this Argentine Canal Company, in fact. What a tedious, practical subject for you to talk about, Mrs. Chevely. Oh, I like tedious practical subject. subjects. What I don't like are tedious practical people. There is a wide difference. Besides, you are

interested, I know, in international canal schemes. You were Lord Radley's secretary, weren't you, when the government bought the Suez Canal shares? Yes, but the Suez Canal was a very great and splendid undertaking. It gave us our direct route to India. It had imperial value. It was necessary that we should have control. This Argentine scheme is a commonplace stock exchange swindle. A speculation, Sir Robert. A brilliant, daring speculation. Believe me, Mrs. Chevely, it is a swindle. Let us call things by their proper names. It makes matters simpler. We have all the information about it at the Foreign Office. In fact, I sent out a special commission to inquire into the matter privately, and they report that the works are hardly begun, and as for the money already subscribed,

no one seems to know what has become of it. The whole thing is a second Panama, and with not a quarter of the chance of success that miserable affair ever had. I hope you've not invested in it. I'm sure you're far too clever to have done that. I have invested very largely in it. Who could have advised you to do such a foolish thing? old friend and mine. Who? Baron Arnheim. Frowning.

Ah, yes. I remember hearing at the time of his death that he'd been mixed up in the whole affair. It was his last romance. His last but one to do him justice. Rising. But you've not seen my Corroses yet. They're in the music room. Coros seem to go with music, don't they? May I show them to you? shaking her head i am not in a mood tonight for silver twilights or rose-pink dons i want to talk business motions to him with her fan to sit down beside her i fear i have no advice to give you mrs chevely except to interest yourself in something less dangerous the success of the canal depends of course on the attitude of england and i'm going to lay the report of the commissioners before the house to-morrow night that you must not do in your own interests sir robert to say nothing of mine you must not do that looking at her in wonder in my own interests my dear mrs chevely what do you mean sits down beside her

sir robert i will be quite frank with you i want you to withdraw the report that you have intended to lay before the house on the ground that you have reason to believe that the commissioners have been prejudiced or misinformed or something. Then I want you to say a few words to the effect that the government is going to reconsider the question and that you have reasoned to believe that the canal, if completed, will be of great international value. You know the sort of things ministers say in cases of this kind. A few ordinary platitudes will do.

In modern life, nothing produces such an effect as a good platitude. It makes the whole world kin. Will you do that for me? Mrs. Chevely, you cannot be serious in making me such a proposition. I am quite serious. Coldly. Pray allow me to believe that you are not. Speaking with great deliberation and emphasis.

Ah, but I am. And if you do what I ask you, I will pay you very handsomely. pay me? Yes. I'm afraid I don't quite understand what you mean. Leaning back on the sofa and looking at him. How very disappointing! And I have come all the way from Vienna,

in order that you should thoroughly understand me. I fear I don't. In her most nonchalant manner. My dear Sir Robert, you are a man of the world, and you have your price, I suppose. everybody has nowadays. The drawback is that most people are so dreadfully expensive. I know I am.

I hope you will be more reasonable in your terms. Rises indignantly. If you'll allow me, I will call your carriage for you. You have lived so long abroad, Mrs. Chevely, that you seem to be unable to realize that you are talking to an English gentleman. Detains him by touching his arm with her fan, and keeping it there while she is talking.

I realize that I am talking to a man who laid the foundation of his fortune by selling to a stock exchange speculator, a cabinet secret. Biting his lip. What do you mean? Rising and facing him. I mean that I know the real origin of your wealth and your career, and I have got your letter too. What letter?

Contemptuously. The letter you write. wrote to Baron Arnheim, when you were Lord Radley's secretary, telling the Baron to buy Suez Canal shares, a letter written three days before the government announced its own purchase. Horsley. It is not true. You thought that letter had been destroyed. How foolish of you! It is in my possession.

The affair to which you allude was no more than a speculation. The House of Commons had not yet passed the bill. It might have been rejected. It was a swindle, Sir Robert. Let us call things by their proper names. It makes everything simpler. And now I am going to sell you that letter, and the price I ask for it is your public support of the Argentine scheme.

You made your own fortune out of one canal. You must help me and my friends to make our fortunes out of another. It is infamous what you propose, infamous. Oh no, this is the game of life as we all have to play it, Sir Robert, sooner or later. I cannot do what you ask me. You mean you cannot help doing it. You know you are standing on the edge of a precipice, and it is not for you to make terms.

It is for you to accept them. Supposing you refuse. What then? My dear Sir Robert, why? But then, you are ruined, that is all. Remember to what a point your Puritanism in England has brought you. In old days, nobody pretended to be a bit better than his neighbors. In fact, to be a bit better than one's neighbor was considered excessively vulgar and middle class. Nowadays, with our modern mania for morality, everyone has to pose as a paragon of purity, incorruptibility, and all the other seven deadly virtues. And what is the result? You all go over like nine pins, one after the other. Not a year passes in England without somebody disappearing. Scandals used to lend charm, or at least interest, to a man. Now they crush him. And yours is a very nasty scandal. You couldn't survive it. If it were known that as a young man,

secretary to a great and important minister, you sold a cabinet-secretary to a great and important minister, you sold a cabinet secret for a large sum of money, and that that was the origin of your wealth and career, you would be hounded out of public life. You would disappear completely. And after all, Sir Robert, why should you sacrifice your entire future rather than deal diplomatically with your enemy?

For the moment, I am your enemy. I admit it. And I am much stronger than you are. The big battalions are on my side. You have a splendid position, but it is your splendid position that makes you so vulnerable. You can't defend it, and I am in attack. 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 a great success. You owe to it your fortune and position, and now you have got to pay for it.

Sooner or later we have all to pay for what we do. You have to pay now. Before I leave you tonight, you have got to promise me to suppress your report and to speak in the house in favor of this scheme. What you ask is impossible. You must make it possible. You are going to make it possible. Sir Robert, you know what your English newspapers are like.

Suppose that when I leave the... this house, I drive down to some newspaper office and give them this scandal and the proofs of it. Think of their loathsome joy, of the delight they would have in dragging you down, of the mud and mire they would plunge you in. Think of the hypocrite with his greasy smile, penning his leading article, and arranging the foulness of the public placard. Stop! You want me to withdraw the report, and to make a speech stating that I believe

there are possibilities in the scheme. Sitting down on the sofa. Those are my terms. In a low voice. I will give you any sum of money you want. Even you are not rich enough, Sir Robert, to buy back your past. No man is. I will not do what you ask me.

I will not. You have to. If you don't, rises from the sofa. bewildered and unnerved. Wait a moment. What did you propose? You said that you would give me back my letter, didn't you? Yes, that is agreed. I will be in the ladies' gallery tomorrow night at half-past eleven.

If by that time, and you will have had heaps of opportunity, you have made an announcement to the house in the terms I wish, I shall hand you back your letter with the prettiest thanks, and the best, or at any rate, the most. most suitable compliment I can think of, I intend to play quite fairly with you. One should always play fairly when one has the winning cards. The Baron taught me that, amongst other things. You must let me have time to consider your proposal. No, you must settle now. Give me a week, three days. Impossible. I have got to telegraph to Vienna tonight.

My God, what brought you into my... life. Circumstances. Move towards the door. Don't go. I consent. The report shall be withdrawn. I will arrange for a question to be put to me on the subject. Thank you. I knew we could come to an amicable agreement. I understood your nature from the first. I analyzed you, though you did not adore me. And now you can get my carriage for me, Sir Robert. I see the people coming up from supper, and Englishmen always get romantic after a meal, and that bores me dreadfully. Exit Sir Robert Chilton. Enter guests. Lady Chiltern, Lady Markby,

Lord Cavarsham, Lady Basilden, Mrs. Marchmont, Vicontin Anarch, Mr. Montford. Well, dear Mrs. Cheebly, I hope you have enjoyed yourself. Sir Robert is very entertaining, is he not? Most entertaining. I have enjoyed my talk with him, immensely. He has had a very interesting and brilliant career, and he has married most admirable wife. Lady Chiltern is a woman of the very highest principles, I am glad to say. I am a little too old now myself to trouble about setting a good example, but I always admire people who do. And Lady Chiltern has a very ennobling effect on life, though her dinner parties are rather dull sometimes, but one can't have everything, can one? And now I must go, dear, shall I call it? Shall I call

for you tomorrow. Thanks. We might drive in the park at five. Everything looks so fresh in the park now. Except the people. Perhaps the people are a little jaded. I have often observed that the season as it goes on produces a kind of softening of the brain.

However, I think anything is better than high intellectual pressure. That is the most unbecoming thing there is. It makes the noses of the young girls so particularly large, and there is nothing so difficult to marry as a large nose. Men don't like them. Good night, dear. Two Lady Chiltern.

Good night, Gertrude. Goes out on Lord Kavisham's arm. What a charming house you have, Lady Chiltern. I have spent a delightful evening. It has been so interesting getting to know your husband. Why did you wish to meet my husband, Mrs. Chavely? Oh, I will tell you. I wanted to interest him in this Argentine Canal scheme,

of which I dare say you have heard, and I found him most susceptible, susceptible to reason, I mean, a rare thing in a man. I converted him in ten minutes. He is going to make a speech in the house tomorrow night in favor of the idea. We must go to the ladies' gallery and hear him.

It will be a great occasion. There must be some mistake. That scheme could never have my husband's support. Oh, I assure you it's all settled. I don't regret my tedious journey from Vienna now. It has been a great success. But of course, for the next 24 hours the whole thing is a dead secret. Gently. A secret? Between whom? With a flash of amusement in her eyes. Between your husband and myself. Entering. Your carriage is here, Mrs. Chevely. Thanks. Good evening, Lady Chiltern.

Good night, Lord Goring. I am at clearages. Don't you think you might leave a card. If you wish it, Mrs. Chevely. Oh, don't be so solemn about it, or I shall be obliged to leave a card on you. In England, I suppose that would hardly be considered on regale. Abroad, we are more civilized. Will you see me down, Sir Robert? Now that we have both the same interests at heart, we shall be great friends, I hope. Sails out on Sir Robert Chilton's arm. Lady Chiltern goes to the top of the staircase and down at them as they descend. Her expression is troubled. After a little time she is joined by some of the guests and passes with them into another reception-room. What a horrid woman! You should go to bed, Miss Mabel.

Lord Goring! My father told me to go to bed an hour ago. I don't see why I shouldn't give you the same advice. I always pass on good advice. It is the only thing to do with it. It is never of any use to oneself. Lord Goring, you are always ordering me out of the room. I think it most courageous of you, especially as I am not going to bed for hours. Goes over to the sofa. You can come and sit down, if you like,

and talk about anything in the world, except the Royal Academy, Mrs. Chevely, or novels in Scotch dialect. They are not improving subjects. Catches sight of something that is lying on the sofa half hidden by the cushion. what is this someone has dropped a diamond brooch quite beautiful isn't it shows it to him i wish it was mine but gertrude won't let me wear anything but pearls and i am thoroughly sick of pearls they make one look so plain so good and so intellectual i wonder whom the brooch belongs to

I wonder who dropped it. It is a beautiful brooch. It is a handsome bracelet. It isn't a bracelet, it's a brooch. It can be used as a bracelet. Takes it from her, and, pulling out a green letter case, puts the ornament carefully in it, and replaces the whole thing in his breast pocket with the most perfect sang-froid.

What are you doing? Miss Mabel, I'm going to make a rather strange request to you. Eagely. "'Oh, pray do, I have been waiting for it all the evening.' "'Is a little taken aback, but recovers himself. "'Don't mention to anybody that I have taken charge of this brooch. "'Should anyone write and claim it, let me know at once.' "'That is a strange request.

"'Well, you see, I gave this brooch to somebody once, years ago.' "'You did?' "'Yes.' "'Lady Chilton enters alone. The other guests have gone. Then I shall certainly bid you good-night. Good-night, Gertrude. Exit.

Good night, dear. To Lord Goring. You saw whom Lady Mark be brought here tonight? Yes, it was an unpleasant surprise. Why did she come here for? Apparently, to try and lure Robert to uphold some fraudulent scheme in which she is interested. The Argentine Canal, in fact. She has mistaken her.

her man, hasn't she? She is incapable of understanding an upright nature like my husband's. Yes. I should fancy she came to grief if she tried to get Robert into her toils. It is extraordinary what astounding mistakes clever women make. I don't call women of that kind clever. I call them stupid. Same thing often.

Good night, Lady Chiltern. Good night. Enter Sir Robert Chiltern. My dear Arthur, you're not going. Do stop a little. Afraid I can't, thanks. I have promised to look in at the heartlucks. I believe they have got a Move-Hungarian band that plays Move-Hungarian music. See you soon. Goodbye. Exit. How beautiful you look tonight, Gertrude.

Robert, it is not true, is it? You are not going to lend your support to this Argentine speculation. You couldn't. Starting. Who told you I intended to do so? That woman who has just gone out. Mrs. Chevely, as she calls herself now, she seemed to taunt me with it. Robert, I know this woman, you don't.

We were at school together. She was untruthful, dishonest, an evil influence on everyone whose trust or friendship she could win. I hated. I despised her. She stole things. She was a thief.

She was sent away. for being a thief. Why do you let her influence you? Gertrude, what you tell me may be true, but it happened many years ago. It is best forgotten. Mrs. Chevely may have changed since then. No one should be entirely judged by their past. Sadly. One's past is what one is. It is the only way by which people should be judged. That is a hard saying, Gertrude. It is a true saying, Robert. And what did she mean by boasting that she had got you to lend your support, your name, to a thing I have heard you describe as the most dishonest and fraudulent scheme there has ever been in political life?

Biting his lip. I was mistaken in the view that I took. We all may make mistakes. But you told me yesterday that you had received the report from the commission, and that it entirely condemned the whole thing. Walking up and down I have reasons now to believe that the commission was prejudiced or at any rate misinformed. Besides Gertrude, public and private life are different things.

They have different laws and move on different lines. They should both represent man at his highest. I see no difference between them. Stopping. In the present case, on a matter of practical politics, I have changed my mind. That is all. All? Sternly.

Yes. Robert! Oh, it is horrible that I should have to ask you such a question. Robert, are you telling me the whole truth? Why do you ask me such a question? After a pause. Why do you not answer it? Sitting down.

Gertrude, truth is a very complex thing and politics is a very complex business. There are wheels within wheels. One may be under certain obligations to people that one must pay. Sooner or later in political life one has to compromise. Everyone does. Compromise? Robert, why do you talk so differently tonight from the way I have always heard you talk?

Why are you changed? I am not changed. But circumstances alter things. Circumstances should never alter principles. But if I told you... What? That it was necessary, vitally necessary. It can never be necessary to do what is not honourable,

or if it be necessary, then what is it that I have loved? But it is not, Robert, tell me it is not. Why should it be? What gain would you get? Money? We have no need. of that, and money that comes from a tainted source is a degradation. Power? But power is nothing in itself. It is power to do good that is fine, that and that only.

What is it, then? Robert, tell me why you are going to do this dishonourable thing. Gertrude, you have no right to use that word. I told you it was a question of rational compromise. It is no more than that. Robert, that is all very well for other men. For men who treat life simply as a sordid speculation. But not for you, Robert, not for you. You are different. All your life you have stood apart from others. You have never let the world soil you.

To the world as to myself. You have been an ideal always. Oh, be that ideal still. That great inheritance throw not away. That tower of ivory do not destroy. Robert, men can love what is beneath them. things unworthy, stained, dishonoured. We women worship when we love,

and when we lose our worship, we lose everything. Oh, don't kill my love for you. Don't kill that. Gertrude! I know that there are men with horrible secrets in their lives, men who have done some shameful thing, and who in some critical moment have to pay for it by doing some other act of shame. Oh, don't tell me you are such as they are.

are. Robert, is there in your life any secret dishonor or disgrace? Tell me, tell me at once that... That what? Speaking very slowly. That our lives may drift apart. Drift apart? That they may be entirely separate. It would be better for us both. Gertrude, there is nothing in my past life that you might not know. I was sure of it, Robert. I was sure of it. But why did you say those dreadful things, things so unlike your real self?

Don't let us ever talk about the subject again. You will write, won't you, to Mrs. Chevely, and tell her that you cannot support the scandalous scheme of hers. If you have given her any promise, you must take it back, that is all. Must I write, and tell her that? Surely, Robert, what else is there to do? I might see her personally. It would be better.

You must never see her again, Robert. She is not a woman you should ever speak to. She is not worthy to talk to a man like you. No, you must write to her at once now, this moment, and let your letter show her that your decision is quite irrevocable. Write this moment? Yes. But it is so late.

It is close on twelve. That makes no matter. She must know at once that she has been mistaken. taken in you, and that you are not a man to do anything base or underhanded or dishonourable. Right here, Robert, write that you decline to support the scheme of hers, as you hold it to be a dishonest scheme. Yes, write the word dishonest. She knows what that word means. Sir Robert Chilton sits down and writes her letter.

His wife takes it up and reads it. Yes, that will do. Rings bell. And now the envelope. He writes the envelope slowly. Enter Mason. Have this letter sent at once to Claridge's hotel. There is no answer.

Exit, Mason. Lady Chilton kneels down beside her husband and puts her arms around him. Robert, love gives one an instinct to things. I feel tonight that I have saved you from something that might have been a danger to you, from something that might have made men honour you less than they do. I don't think you realise sufficiently, Robert, that you have brought into the political life of our time a nobler atmosphere, a finer attitude towards life, a freer air of purer aims and higher ideals.

I know it, and for that I love you, Robert. Oh, love me always, Gertrude, love me always. I will love you always, because you will always be worthy of love. We needs must love the highest when we see it. Kisses him and rises and goes out. Sir Robert Chilton walks up and down for a moment, then sits down and buries his face in his hands. The servant enters and begins pulling out the lights.

Sir Robert Chilton looks up. Put out the lights, Mason. Put out the lights. The servant puts out the lights. The room becomes almost dark. The only light there is comes from the great chandelier that hangs over the staircase and illumines the tapestry of the triumph of love. End of Act 1 Second Act

Scene Morning Room at Sir Robert Chilton's house Lord Goring, dressed in the height of fashion, is lounging in the height of fashion, is lounging in an armchair. Sir Robert Chilton is standing in front of the fireplace. He is evidently in a state of great mental excitement and distress. as the scene progresses he paces nervously up and down the room my dear robert it is a very awkward business very awkward indeed you should have told your wife the whole thing secrets from other people's wives are necessary luxury in modern life so at least i am told at the club by people who are bald enough to know better but no man should have a secret from his own wife she invariably finds it out "'Women have a wonderful instinct about things.

"'They can discover everything except the obvious.' "'Arthur, I couldn't tell my wife. "'When could I have told her? "'Not last night. "'It would have made a lifelong separation between us, "'and I would have lost the love of the one woman in the world I worship, "'of the only woman who has ever stirred love within me. "'Last night it would have been quite,

impossible. She would have turned from me in horror, in horror and in contempt. Is Lady Chiltern as perfect as all that? Yes, my wife is as perfect as all that. Taking off his left-hand glove. What a pity! Oh, I beg your pardon, my dear fellow, I didn't quite mean that. But if what you tell me is true, I should like to have a sidious talk about life with Lady Chiltern.

It would be quite useless. May I try? Yes, but nothing could make her alter her views. Well, at the worst, it would simply be a psychological experiment. All such experiments are terribly dangerous. Everything is dangerous, my dear fellow. If it wasn't so, life wouldn't be worth living. Well, I'm bound to say that I think you should have told her years ago.

When? When we were engaged? Do you think she would have married me if she'd known that the origin of my fortune is such as it is, the basis of my career such as it is, and that I had done a thing that I suppose most men would call shameful and dishonorable? Slowly. Yes. Most men would call it ugly names.

There is no doubt of that. Bitterly. Men who every day do something of the same kind themselves, men who each one of them have worse secrets in their own lives. That is the reason they are so pleased to find out other people's secrets. It distracts public attention from their own. And after all, whom did I wrong by what I did? No one. Looking at him steadily.

Except yourself. "'Of course, Robert.' "'Of course, I had private information about a certain transaction contemplated by the government of the day, and I acted on it. Private information is practically the source of every large modern fortune.' "'Tapping his boot with his cane.' "'And public scandal, invariably the result.' Pacing up and down the room. "'Arthur, do you think that what I did nearly 18 years ago

"'should be brought up against me now? "'Do you think it fair that a man's whole career should be ruined "'for a fault done in one's boyhood almost? "'I was 22 at the time, "'and I had the double misfortune of being well-born and poor, "'two unforgivable things nowadays. "'Is it fair that the folly, the sin of one's youth, "'if men choose to call it a sin, a sin,

"'Should wreck a life like mine, should place me in the pillory, "'should shatter all that I have worked for, all that I have built up. "'Is it fair, Arthur?' "'Life is never fair, Robert, and perhaps it is a good thing for most of us that it is not.' "'Every man of ambition has to fight his sentry with its own weapons. "'What this century worships is wealth. "'The god of this century is wealth. "'To succeed, one must have wealth.

At all costs one must have wealth. You underrate yourself, Robert. Believe me, without wealth, you could have succeeded just as well. When I was old, perhaps, when I had lost my passion for power, or could 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.

Well, you certainly 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 of 40. That's good enough for anyone, I should think. And if it is all taken away from me now, if I lose everything over a horrible scandal, if I am hounded from public life? Robert, how could you have sold yourself for money?

excitedly. I did not sell myself for money. I bought success at a great price. That is all. Gravely. Yes, you certainly paid a great price for it. But what first made you think of doing such a thing? Baron Arnheim. Damn scoundrel. No, he was a man of a most subtle and refined intellect, a man of Culture, charm and distinction, one of the most intellectual men I ever met.

Ah, I prefer a gentlemanly fool any day. There is more to be said for stupidity than people imagine. Personally, I have a great admiration for stupidity. It is a sort of fellow-feeling, I suppose. But how did he do it? Tell me the whole thing. Throws himself into an armchair by the writing-table. One night after dinner at Lord Radley's, the Baron began talking about success in modern life, as something that one could reduce to an absolutely definite science.

With that wonderfully fascinating quiet voice of his, he expounded to us the most terrible of all philosophies, the philosophy of power, preached to us the most marvellous of all Gospels, the Gospel of Gold. I think he saw the effect he'd produced on me, for some days afterwards he wrote and asked me to come and see him. He was living then in Park Lane, in the house Lord Wilcombe has now. I remember so well now, with a strange smile on his pale, curved lips, he led me through his wonderful picture gallery, showed me his tapestries, his enamels, his jewels, his carved ivories, made me wonder at the strange loveliness of the luxury in which he lived, and then told me that luxury was nothing but a background,

a painted scene in a play, and that power, power over other men, power over the world, was the one thing worth having, the one supreme pleasure worth knowing, the one joy one never tired of, and that in our century only the rich possessed it. with great deliberation a thoroughly shallow creed rising i didn't think so then i don't think so now wealth has given me enormous power it gave me at the very outset of my life freedom and freedom is everything you have never been poor and never known what ambition is you cannot understand what a wonderful chance the baron gave me such a chance as few men get "'Fortunately for them, if one is to judge by results, "'but tell me, definitely, how did the Baron finally persuade you to—well, to do what you did?' "'When I was going away, he said to me that if I ever could give him any private information of real value,

"'he would make me a very rich man. "'I was dazed at the prospect he held out to me, "'and my ambition and my desire for power were at that time bound. "'Soundless. Six weeks later, certain private documents passed through my hands.' "'Keeping his eyes steadily fixed on the carpet.' "'State documents?' "'Yes.' "'Lord Goring sighs, then passing his hand across his forehead, looks up.

"'I had no idea that you, of all men in the world, could have been so weak, Robert, as to yield, to such a temptation as Baron Arnheim held out to you. Weak? Oh, I am sick of hearing that phrase, sick of using it about others. Weak? Do you really think, Arthur, that it is weakness that yields to temptation? I tell you that there are terrible temptations that it requires strength,

strength and courage to yield to, to stake all one's life on a single moment, to risk everything on one throw, whether the stake be power or pleasure, I care not. There is no weakness in that. There is a horrible, a terrible courage. I had that courage. I sat down the same afternoon and wrote Baron Arnheim the letter this woman now holds. He made three quarters of a million over the transaction. And you? I received from the Baron a hundred and ten thousand

pounds. You were worth more, Robert. No, that money gave me exactly what I wanted, power over others. I went into the house immediately. The Baron advised me in finance from time to time. Before five years, I had almost trebled my fortune. Since then, everything that I have touched has turned out a success. In all things connected with money, I have had a luck so extraordinary that sometimes it has made me almost afraid. I remember having read somewhere in some strange book that when the gods wish to punish us, they answer our prayers. But tell me, Robert, did you never suffer any regret for what you had done? No. I felt that I had fought the century with its own weapons and won. Sadly.

You thought you had won? I thought so. After a long pause. Arthur, do you despise me for what I've told you? With deep feeling in his voice. I am very sorry for you, Robert. Very sorry indeed. I don't say that I suffered any remorse.

I didn't. Not remorse in the ordinary, rather silly sense of the word, but I have paid conscience money many times. I had a wild hope that I might disarm destiny. The sum Baron Arnheim gave me I have distributed twice over in public charities since then. Looking up. In public charities?

Dear me, what a lot of harm you must have done, Robert. Oh, don't say that, Arthur. Don't talk like that. Never mind what I say, Robert. "'I am always saying what I shouldn't say. "'In fact, I usually say what I really think. "'A great mistake nowadays. "'It makes one so liable to be misunderstood.

"'As regards to this dreadful business, "'I will help you in whatever way I can. "'Of course you know that.' "'Thank you, Arthur. Thank you. "'But what is to be done? "'What can be done?' "'Leaning back with his hands in his pockets. "'Well, the English can'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 in the 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 the whole affair, you would never be able to talk morality again. And in England, a man who can't talk morality twice a week to a large popular

immoral audience is quite over as a serious politician. There would be nothing left for him as a profession, except a botany or the church. A confession would be of no use. It would ruin you. It would ruin me. Arthur, the only thing for me to do now is to fight the thing out. Rising from his chair. I was waiting for you to say that. It is the only thing to do now. and you must begin by telling your wife the whole story. That I will not do.

Robert, believe me. You are wrong. I couldn't do it. It would kill her love for me. And now about this woman, Mrs. Chevely, how can I defend myself against her? You knew her before, Arthur, apparently. Yes.

Did you know her well? arranging his necktie. So little that I got engaged to be married to her once, when I was staying at the Tenbys. The affair lasted for three days, nearly. Why was it broken off? Ayrly. Oh, I forget. At least it makes no matter. By the way, have you tried her with money?

She used to be confoundedly fond of money. I offered her any sum she wanted. She refused. Then the marvellous gospel of gold breaks down sometimes. The rich can't do everything, after all. Not everything. I suppose you are right. Arthur, I feel that public disgrace is in store for me.

I feel certain of it. I never knew what terror was before. I know it now. It is as if a hand of ice were laid upon one's heart. It is as if one's heart. were beating itself to death in some empty hollow. Striking the table. Robert, you must fight her. You must fight her.

But how? I can't tell you how at present. I've not the smallest idea. But everyone has some weak point. There is some flaw in each one of us. Strolls to the fireplace and looks at himself in the glass. My father tells me that even I have. have faults. Hmm, perhaps I have. I don't know. In defending myself against Mrs. Chevely, I have a right to use any weapon I can find, have I not? Still looking in the glass. In your place, I don't think I should have the smallest scruple in doing so. She is thoroughly well

able to take care of herself. Sits down at the table and takes a pen in his hand. Well, I shall send a cipher telegram to the embassy at Vienna, to include if there is anything known against her. There may be some secret scandal she might be afraid of. Settling his buttonhole. Oh, I should fancy Mrs. Chevely as one of those very modern women of our time who find a new scandal is becoming as a new bonnet,

and air them both in the park every afternoon at 5.30. I am sure she adores scandals, and that the sorrow of her life at present is that she can't manage to have enough of them. Writing. Why do you say that? Turning round. Well, she wore far too much rouge last night, and not quite enough clothes.

That is always a sign of despair in a woman. Striking a bell. But it is worthwhile my writing to Vienna, is it not? It is always worth while asking a question, though it is not always worth while asking a question, though it is not always worth while answering one. Enter Mason. Is Mr. Trafford in his room? Yes, Sir Robert.

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. Yes, Sir Robert. Oh, just give that back to me again. Write something on the envelope. Mason then goes out with the letter. She must have had some curious hold over Baron Arnheim.

I wonder what it was. Smiling. I wonder. I will fight her to the death as long as my wife knows nothing. Strongly. Oh, fight in any case. In any case. 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 shall fight her with her weapons. It is only fair, and she looks like a woman with a past, doesn't she? Most pretty women do. But there is a fashion in pasts, just as there is a fashion in frocks.

"'Perhaps Mrs. Chevely's past is merely a slightly decollette one, "'and they are excessively popular nowadays. "'Besides, my dear Robert, I should not build too high hopes on frightening Miss Chevely. "'I should not fancy Miss Chevely is a woman who would be easily frightened. "'She has survived all her creditors, and she shows a wonderful presence of mind. "'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 Chilton in walking dress. Good afternoon, Lord Goring. Good afternoon, Lady Chiltern. Have you been in the park? 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? I'll wait for a short time, thanks.

I will be back in a moment. I am only going to take my hat off. In his most earnest manner. Oh, please don't. It is so pretty. One of the prettiest hats I ever saw. I hope the women's liberal association received it with loud applause. With a smile.

We have much more important work to do than look at each other's bonnets, Lord Goring. Really? What sort of work? Oh, dull, useful, delightful things. Factory Acts, female inspectors, the Eighthours bill, the parliamentary franchise, everything, in fact, that you would find thoroughly uninteresting. And never, bonnets? with mock indignation. Never, bonnets. Never.

Lady Chilton goes out through the door leading to her boudoir. Takes Lord Goring's hand. You have been a good friend to me, Arthur. A thoroughly good friend. 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. You have enabled me to tell the truth. That is something. The truth has always stifled me.

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 conceded. Perhaps it is. I would to God that I'd been able to tell the truth to live the truth. "'Ah, that is the greatest thing in life, to live the truth.' "'Sies and goes towards the door. "'I'll see you soon again, Arthur, shan't I?' "'Certainly, whenever you like. "'I'm going to look in at the bachelor's ball tonight,

"'unless I find something better to do, "'but I'll come round tomorrow morning. "'If you should want me tonight, by any chance, "'send round a note to Curzon Street.' "'Thank you.' "'As he reaches the door, Lady Chalpherson. Chiltern enters from her boudoir. You are not going, Robert.

I have some letters to write, dear. Going to him. You work too hard, Robert. You seem never to think of yourself, and you are looking so tired. It is nothing, dear, nothing. He kisses her and goes out. To Lord Goring.

Do sit down. I am so glad you have called. I wanted 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.' "'You want to talk to me about Mrs. Chevely?' "'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 writer a letter at once withdrawing his promise.' "'So he gave me to understand.' "'To have kept me. 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. secrets from me, and I don't think he has any from you.

He certainly has no secrets from me. At least I don't think so. Then am I not right in my estimate of him? I know I am right, but speak to me frankly. Looking straight at her. Quite frankly. Surely, you have nothing to conceal, have you? Nothing. But my dear Lady Chiltern, I think, if you were will allow me to say so, that in practical life, smiling, of which you know so little, 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, getting to a certain point, if he has to climb the crag, he climbs the crag, if he has to walk in the mire. Well? He walks in the mire.

Of course, I'm only talking generally about life. Gravely. I hope so. Why do you look at me so strangely, 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 any public man, my father or Lord Merton, or Robert, say, had years ago written some foolish letter to someone— What do you mean by a foolish letter? "'Letter gravely compromise in one's position. "'I'm only putting an imaginary case.' "'Robbert is as incapable of doing a foolish thing, "'as he is of doing a wrong thing.' "'After a long pause.

"'Nobody is incapable of doing a foolish thing. "'Nobody's incapable of doing a wrong thing.' "'Are you a pessimist? "'What will the other dandies say? "'They will all have to go into mourning Rising No, Lady Children, 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 Children, 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. Looking at him in surprise. Lord Goring, you are talking quite seriously.

I don't think I ever heard you talk seriously before. Laughing. You must excuse me, Lady Chiltern. It won't occur again. if I can help it. But I like you to be serious. Enter Mabel Chilson in the most ravishing frock. 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. I should like you too, Miss Mabel, but I am afraid I am. A little out of practice this morning. Besides, I have to be going now. Just when I have come in, what dreadful manners you have. I am sure you were very badly brought up.

I was. I wish I had brought you up. I am so sorry you didn't. It is too late now, I suppose. Smiling. I'm not so sure. Will you ride tomorrow morning? Yes, at ten.

Don't forget. Of course I shan't. By the way, Lady Chiltern, there is no list of your guests in the morning post of today. 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. I am sure Mr. Trafford will be able to give you one. Thanks so much. Tommy is the most useful person in London.

Turning to her. And who is the most ornamental? Triumphantly. I am. How clever of you to guess it. Takes up his hat and cane. Goodbye, Lady Chiltern. You will remember what I said to you, won't you?

Yes, but I don't know why you said it to me. I hardly know myself. Goodbye, Miss Mabel. With a little moo 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.

How very selfish of you to have four and a half. There won't be any left for me. I don't want you to have any. They would not be good for you. That is the first unkind thing you have ever said to me. How charmingly you said it. Ten to-morrow. Sharp.

quite sharp but don't bring mr trafford with a little toss of the head of course i shan't bring tommy trafford tommy trafford is in great disgrace i am delighted to hear it bows and goes out gertrude i wish you would speak to to tommy trafford what has poor mr trafford done this time robert says he is the best secretary he has ever had well tommy has proposed to me again tommy really does nothing but propose to me he proposed to me last night in the music-room when i was quite unprotected as there was an elaborate trio going on i didn't dare to make the smallest repartee i need hardly tell you if i had it would have stopped the music at once musical people are so absurdly unreasonable they always want one to be perfectly dumb at the very moment when one is longing to be absolutely deaf then he proposed to me in broad daylight this morning in front of that dreadful statue of achilles really the things that go on in front of that work of art are quite appalling the police should interfere at luncheon i saw by the glare in his eye that he was going to propose again and i just managed to check him in time by assuring him that i was a bimetallist fortunately i don't know what bimetallism means and i don't believe anybody else does either, but the observation crushed Tommy for ten minutes. He looked quite shocked. And then Tommy is so annoying in the way he proposes. If he proposed at the top of his voice,

I should not mind it so much. That might produce some effect on the public. But he does it in a horrid, confidential way. When Tommy wants to be romantic, he talks to one just like a doctor. I'm very fond of Tommy, but his methods of proposing. are quite out of date i wish gertrude you would speak to him and tell him that once a week is quite often enough to propose to anyone and that it should always be done in a manner that attracts some attention dear mabel don't talk like that besides robert thinks very highly of mr trafford he believes he has a brilliant future before him oh i wouldn't marry a man with a future before him for anything under the sun mabel i know dear you married a man with the future didn't you but robert was a genius and you have a noble self-sacrificing character you can stand geniuses i have no character at all and robert is the only genius i could ever bear as a rule i think they are quite impossible geniuses talk so much don't they such a bad habit and they are always thinking about themselves when i want them to be thinking about me I must go round now and rehearse at Lady Basilden's.

You remember we are having tableau, don't you? The triumph of something, I don't know what. I hope it will be a triumph of me. Only triumph I am really interested in at present. Kisses Lady Chiltern and goes out, then comes running back. Oh, Gertrude, do you know who is coming to see you? That dreadful Mrs. Chevely in her most lovely gown. Did you ask her?

Rising. Mrs. Chevely. Coming to see me? Impossible. I assure you she is coming upstairs as large as life and not nearly so natural. You need not, wait, Mabel. Remember, Lady Basilden is expecting you. Oh, I must shake hands with Lady Markby. She is delightful.

I love being scolded by her. Enter Mason. Lady Markby, Mrs. Cheverly. Enter Lady Markby and Mrs. Chiefly. advancing to meet them. Dear Lady Markby, how nice of you to come and see me. Shakes hands with her and bows somewhat distantly to Mrs. Chivley. Won't you sit down, Mrs. Chivley?

Thanks. Isn't that Miss Chiltern? I should like so much to know her. Mabel, Mrs. Chivley wishes to know you. Mabel Chilton gives a little nod. Sitting down. I thought you're frustrated. so charming last night miss chiltern so simple and suitable really i must tell my dressmaker it will be such a surprise to her good-bye lady markby going already i am so sorry but i am obliged to i am just off to rehearsal i have got to stand on my head in some tableau on your head child oh i hope not i believe it is most unhealthy takes a seat on the sofa next to lady chiltern but it is for an excellent charity an aid of the undeserving the only people i am really interested in i am the secretary and tommy trafford is treasurer

and what is lord goring oh lord goring is president the post should suit him admirably unless he has deteriorated since i knew him first reflecting you are remarkably modern mabel a little too modern perhaps nothing is so dangerous as being too modern one is apt to grow old-fashioned quite suddenly i have known many instances of it what a dreadful prospect ah my dear you need not be nervous you will always be as pretty as possible that is the best fashion there is and the only fashion that england succeeds in setting with a curtsy thank you so much lady markby for england and myself goes out turning to lady chiltern dear gertrude we just called to know for mrs cheevely's diamond brooch has been found here yes i missed it when i got back to clareges and i thought i might possibly have dropped it here i have heard nothing about it but i will send for the butler and ask touches the bell oh pray don't trouble lady chiltern i dare say i lost it at the opera before we came on here ah yes i suppose it must have been at the opera the fact is we all scramble and jostle so much nowadays that i wonder we have anything at all left on us at the end of an evening i know myself that when i am coming back from the drawing-room i always feel as if i hadn't a shred on me except a small shred of decent reputation just enough to prevent to the lower classes making painful observations through the windows of the carriage the fact is that our society is terribly overpopulated really someone should arrange a proper scheme of assisted emigration it would do a great deal as good

i quite agree with you lady mark b it is nearly six years since i have been in london for the season and i must say society has become dreadfully mixed one sees the oddest people everywhere that is quite true dear but one need know them i'm sure i don't know half the people who come to my house indeed from all i hear i shouldn't like to enter mason what sort of a brooch was it that you lost mrs chevely a diamond snake brooch with a ruby a rather large ruby i thought you said there was a sapphire on the head dear smiling no lady markby a ruby a ruby nodding her head and very becoming i am quite sure has a ruby and diamond brooch been found in any of the rooms this morning mason no my lady it really is of no consequence lady chiltern i am so sorry to have put you to any inconvenience

coldly oh it has been no inconvenience that will do mason you can bring tea exit mason "'Well, I must say it is most annoying to lose anything. "'I remember once at Bath, years ago, "'leasing in the pump-room and exceedingly handsome cameo bracelets "'that Sir John had given me. "'I don't think he has ever given me anything since, I am sorry to say.

"'He has sadly degenerated. "'Really, this horrid House of Commons quite ruins our husbands for us. "'I think the lower house, by far the greatest blow "'to a happy married life that there has been, "'since that terrible thing, called the higher education. of women was invented ah it is heresy to say that in this house lady markby robert is a great champion of the higher education of women and so i am afraid am i the higher education of men is what i should like to see men need it so sadly they do dear but i am afraid such a scheme would be quite unpracticeable i don't think man has much capacity for development he's got as far as he can and that is is not far is it with regard to women well dear gertrude you belong to the younger generation and i am quite sure it is all right if you approve of it in my time of course we were taught not to understand anything that was the old system and wonderfully interesting it was

i assure you that the amount of things i and my poor dear sister were taught not to understand was quite extraordinary but modern woman understand everything i am told except their husbands that is the one thing the modern woman never understands and a very good thing too dear i dare say it might break up many a happy home if they did not yours i need hardly say gertrude you have married a pattern husband i wish i could say as much for myself but since so john has taken to attending the debates regularly what he never used to in the good old days his language has become quite impossible he always seems to think he is addressing the house and consequently whenever he discusses the state of the agricultural labourer or the welsh church or something quite improper of that kind i am obliged to send all the servants out of the room is it not unpleasant to see one's own butler who has been with one for twenty-three years actually blushing at the sideboard and the footmen making contortions in corners like persons and circuses i assure you my life will be quite ruined unless they send surges John at once to the upper house. He won't take any interest in politics, then, will he? The House of Lords is so sensible. An assembly of gentlemen. But in his present state, Sir John is really a great trial. Why, this morning, before breakfast was half over, he stood up on the

hearth-rug, put his hands in his pockets, and appealed to the country at the top of his voice. I left the table as soon as I had my second cup of tea, I need hardly say. But his violent language could be heard all over the house. I trust Gertrude that Sir Robert is not like that. But I am very much interested in politics, Lady Markby. I love to hear Robert talk about them. Well, I hope he's not as devoted to Blue Books as Sir John is. I don't think they can be quite improving reading for one.

Languidly. I have never read a blue book. I prefer books in yellow covers. Jean-Nilly unconscious. Yellow is a gyr. color, is it not? I used to wear a yellow a good deal in my early days, and would do so now if Sir John was not so painfully personal in his observations, and a man on the question of dress is always ridiculous, is he not? Oh, no, I think men are the only authorities on dress. Really? One wouldn't say so

from the sort of hats they wear, would one? The butler enters, followed by the footman. T is set on a small table close to Lady Cholten. may i give you some tea mrs chevely thanks the butler hands mrs cheevely a cup of tea on a salver some tea lady markby no thanks dear the servants go out the fact is i have promised to go round for ten minutes to see poor lady brandcaster who was in very great trouble her daughter quite a well-brought-up girl too has actually become engaged to be married to a curate in structure It is very sad, very sad indeed. I can't understand this modern mania for curates. In my time when girls saw them, of course, running around the place like rabbits. But we never took any notice of them, I need hardly say.

But I am told that nowadays country society is quite honeycombed with them. I think it most irreligious. And then the eldest son has quarreled with his father, and it is said that when they meet at the club, Lord Braincaster always hides himself behind the money article in the Times. However, I believe it is quite a common occurrence nowadays, and that they have to take in extra copies of the times at all the clubs in St. James Street. There are so many sons who won't have anything to do with their fathers, and so many fathers who won't speak to their sons. I think myself it is very much to be regretted.

So do I. Fathers have so much to learn from their sons nowadays. Really, dear. What? The art of living. the only fine art we have produced in modern times. Shaking her head. Ah, I am afraid Lord Brancaster knew a good deal about that, more than his poor wife ever did. Turning to Lady Chilton.

You know Lady Brinkaster, don't you, dear? Just slightly. She was staying at Langton last autumn when we were there. Well, like all stout women, she looks the very picture of happiness, as no doubt you 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, I'm sorry to say. She ultimately was so broken-hearted that she went into a convent, or on to the operatic stage, I forget which.

No, I think it was decorative art needlework she took up. I know she had lost all sense of pleasure in life. Rising. And now, Gertrude, if you will allow me, I shall leave Mrs. Chevely in your charge and call back for her in a quarter of an hour, or perhaps near Miss. "'You wouldn't mind waiting in the carriage "'while I am with Lady Brancaster? "'As I intend it to be a visit of condolence, "'I shan't stay along.' "'Rising.

"'I don't mind waiting in the carriage at all, "'provided there is somebody to look at one. "'Well, I hear the curatists "'always prowling about the house. "'I am afraid I am not fond of girlfriends.' "'Rising. "'Oh, I hope Mrs. Chevely will stay here a little. "'I should like to.

to have a few minutes conversation with her. "'How very kind of you, Lady Chiltern. "'Believe me, nothing would give me greater pleasure.' "'Ah, no doubt you both have many pleasant reminiscences "'of your school-days to talk over together. "'Good-bye, dear Gertrude. "'Shall I see you at Lady Bonares to-night? "'She discovered a wonderful new genius.

"'He does nothing at all, I believe. "'That is a great comfort, is it not?' "'Robert and I are dining at home by ourselves to-night. and I don't think I shall go anywhere afterwards. Robert, of course, will have to be in the house, but there is nothing interesting on. Dining at home by yourselves, is that quite prudent? Ah, I forget, your husband is an exception.

Mine is the general rule, and nothing ages a woman so rapidly as having married the general rule. Exit Lady Markby. Wonderful woman, Lady Markby, isn't she? Talks more and says less than anybody I do. ever met. She is made to be a public speaker, much more so than her husband, though he is a typical Englishman, always dull and usually violent. Makes no answer but remains standing. There is a pause, then the eyes of the two women meet. Lady Chiltern looks stern and pale. Mrs. Chivley seemed rather

amused. Mrs. Chivley, I think it is right to tell you quite frankly that had I known who you really were, I should not have invited you to my house last night. With an impertent smile. Really? I could not have done so. I see that after all these years you have not changed a bit, Gertrude. I never change. Elevating her eyebrows.

Then life has taught you nothing? It has taught me that a person who has once been guilty of a dishonest and dishonorable action may be guilty of it a second time and should be shunned. Would you apply that rule to everyone? Yes, to everyone without exception. Then I am sorry for you, Gertrude, very sorry for you. You see now, I was sure, that for many reasons any further acquaintance between us during your stay in London is quite impossible. Leaning back in her chair.

Do you know, Gertrude, I don't mind you're talking morality a bit. Morality is simply the attitude we adopt, towards people. whom we personally dislike. You dislike me. I am quite aware of that, and I have always detested you, and yet I have come here to do you as service. Contemptuously. Like the service you wished to render my husband last night, I suppose. Thank heaven I saved him from that. Starting to her feet. It was you who made him write that insolent letter to me? It was you who made him break his promise? Yes.

then you must make him keep it i give you till to-morrow morning no more if by that time your husband does not solemnly bind himself to help me in this great scheme in which i am interested this fraudulent speculation call it what you 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 rising and going towards her you are impertinent what has my husband to do with you with a woman like you with a bitter laugh in this world like meets with like it is because your husband is himself fraudulent and dishonest that we pair so well together between you and him there are chasms he and i are closer than friends we are enemies linked together the same sin binds us How dare you class my husband with yourself? How dare you threaten him or me? Leave my house. You are unfit to enter it.

Sir Robert Chilton enters from behind. He hears his wife's last words and sees to whom they are addressed. He grows deadly pale. Your house. A house bought with the price of dishonor, a house everything in which he has paid for by fraud, turns around and sees Sir Robert Chilton. Ask him what the origin of his fortune is.

get him to tell you how he sold to a stockbroker a cabinet secret. Learn from him to what you owe your position. It is not true, Robert, it is not true. Pointing at him with outstretched finger. Look at him, can he deny it? Does he dare to? Go, go at once, you have done your worst now. My worst? I have not yet finished with you, with either of you.

I give you both till tomorrow at noon. If by then you don't do what I bid you to do, the whole world shall know the origin of Robert Chiltern. Sir Robert Chiltern strikes the bell. Enter Mason. Show Mrs. Chivley out. Mrs. Chivley starts, then bows with somewhat exaggerated politeness to Lady Chiltern

who makes no sign of response. As she passes by Sir Robert Chilton, who is standing close to the door, she pauses for a moment and looks him straight in the face. She then goes out, followed by the servant who closes the door after him. The husband and wife are left alone. Lady Chilton stands like someone in a dreadful dream, when she turns round and looks at her husband.

She looks at him with strange eyes, as though she were seeing him for the first time. You sold a cabinet secret for money. You began your life with fraud. You built up your career on dishonour. Oh, tell me. it's not true. Lie to me. Lie to me. Tell me it's not true. What this woman said is quite true. But Gertrude, listen to me. You don't realize how I was tempted. Let me tell you the whole thing.

Goes to water. Don't come near me. Don't touch me. I feel as if you had soiled me forever. Oh, what a mask you've been wearing all these years. A horrible, painted mask. You sold yourself for money. Oh, a common thief were better. You put yourself up to sale to the highest bidder. You were bought in the market. You lied to the whole world. And yet you will not lie to me. Rushing towards her.

Gertrude, Gertrude! Thrusting him back with outstretched hands. No, don't speak. Say nothing. Your voice wakes terrible memories. Memories of things that made me love you. Memories of words that made me love you. memories that now are horrible to me, and how I worshipped you. You were to me something apart from common life, a thing pure, noble, honest, without stain. The world seemed to me finer because you

were in it, and goodness more real because you lived. And now, oh, when I think that I'm made of a man like you, my ideal, the ideal of my life. mistake. There was your error. The error all women commit. Why can't you women love us, faults and all? Why do you place us on monstrous pedestals? We have all feet of clay, women as well as men. But when we men love women, we love them knowing their weaknesses, their follies, their imperfections, love them all the more it may be for that reason. It is not the perfect, but the imperfect who have need of love. It is when we are wounded by our own hands or by the hands of others that love should come to cure us. Else what use is love at all?

All sins except a sin against itself, love should forgive. All lives save loveless lives, true love should pardon. A man's love is like that. It is wider, larger, more human than a woman's. Women think that they are making ideals of men. What they are making of us are false idols merely. You made your false idol of me, and I had not the courage to come down, show you my wounds, tell you my weaknesses. I was afraid that I might lose your love, as I have lost it now. And so, last night you ruined my life for me. Yes, ruined it. What this woman asked of me was nothing compared to what she offered to me. She offered security, peace, stability. The sin of my youth, that I had thought 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, burned the one witness against me. You, prevented me. No one but you, you know it. And now what is there before me, but public disgrace, ruin,

terrible shame, the mockery of the world, a lonely, dishonored life, a lonely, dishonored death, it may be some day. Let women make no more ideals of men, let them not put them on altars and bow before them, or they may ruin other lives as completely as you. You, you, you, whom I have so wildly loved have ruined mine. He passes from the room. Lady Chilton rushes towards him, but the door is closed when she reaches it. Pale with anguish, bewildered, helpless, she sways like a plant in the water. Her hands, outstretched, stem to tremble in the air like blossoms in the mind. Then she flings herself down beside a sofa and buries her face. Her sobs are like the sobs of a child. End of Act 2. Third Act. Scene. The library in Lord Goring's

house. An Adam Room. On the right is the door leading into the hall. On the left, the door of the smoking room. A pair of folding doors at the back open into the drawing room. The fire is lit. Phipps, the butler, is arranging some newspapers on the writing table. The distinction of Phipps is his impassivity. He has been termed by enthusiasts the ideal butler. The Sphinx is not so incommunicable. He is a mask with a manner. Of his intellectual or emotional life, history knows nothing. He represents the dominance of form. Enter Lord Goring in evening dress with a buttonhole. He is wearing a silk hat and Inverness cape. White-gloved, he carries a Louis-Sé's cane. His are all the delicate fopperies of fashion.

One sees that he stands in immediate relation to modern life, makes it indeed, and so masters it. He is the first well-dressed philosopher in the history of thought. Got my second button-hole for me, Phipps? Yes, my lord. Takes his hat, cane and cape, and presents new button-hole on salver. Rather distinguished thing, Phipps. I am the only only one.

only person of the smallest importance in London at present who wears a buttonhole. Yes, my lord, I have observed that. Taking out old buttonhole. You see, Phipps, fashion is what one wears oneself. What is unfashionable is what other people wear. Yes, my lord. Just as vulgarity is simply the conduct of other people. Yes, my lord.

Putting in a new buttonhole. And falsehoods, the truths of other people. Yes, my lord. Other people are quite dreadful. The only possible society is oneself. Yes, my lord. To love oneself is the beginning of a lifelong romance, Phipps. Yes, my lord.

looking at himself in the glass don't think i quite like this buttonhole phipps makes me look a little too old makes me almost in the prime of life eh phipps i don't observe any alteration in your lordship's appearance you don't phipps no my lord i am not quite sure For the future, a more trivial buttonhole, Phipps, on Thursday evenings. I will speak to the florist, my lord. She has had a loss in her family lately, which perhaps accounts for the lack of triviality your lordship's complaints of in the buttonhole. Extraordinary thing about the lower classes in England, they are always losing their relations. Yes, my lord. They are extremely fortunate in that respect.

Turns round and looks at him. Phipps remains impassive. Hmm. Any letters, Phipps? Three, my lord. Hands letters on Salva. Takes letters. What my cab around in 20 minutes.

Yes, my lord. Goes towards door. Holds up letter in pink and envelope. H-ahem. Phipps. When did this letter arrive? It was brought by hand just after your lordship went to the club.

That will do. Exit Phipps. Lady Chiltern's handwriting on Lady Chiltern's pink note paper. That is rather curious. I thought Robert was to write. I wonder what Lady Chiltern has got to say to me. Sits at Bureau and opens letter and reads it. I want you, I trust you, I am coming to you, Gertrude.

Put down the letter 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 has found out everything. Poor woman. Poor woman. "'Pulls out watch and looks at it. "'Hhm. "'But what an hour to call?

"'Ten o'clock. "'Oh, I shall have to give up going to the Berkshers. "'However, it is always nice to be expected, "'and not to arrive. "'I'm not expected at the bachelor's, "'so I shall certainly go there. "'Well, I will make her stand by her husband. "'That is the only thing for her to do.

"'That is the only thing for any woman to do. the growth of the moral sense in women that makes marriage such a hopeless, one-sided institution. Ten o'clock, she should be here soon. I must tell Phipps, I am not in to anyone else. Goes towards Bell. Enter Phipps. Lord Kavisham. Oh, why will parents always appear at the wrong time?

Some extraordinary mistake in nature, I suppose. Enter Lord Cavarsham. Delighted to see you, my dear father. Goes to meet him. Take my cloak off. Is it worthwhile, father? Of course it is worthwhile, sir. Which is the most comfortable chair?

This one, father. It is a chair I use myself when I have visitors. Thank you. No draft, I hope, in this room? No, father. Sitting down. Glad to hear it. Can't stand drafts. No drafts at home. Good many breezes, father. A? A? Don't understand what you mean. Want to have a serious conversation with you, sir.

My dear father at this hour. Well, sir, it is only ten o'clock. What is your objection to the hour? I think the hour is an admirable hour. Well, the fact is, father, this is not my dearer. day for talking seriously. I am very sorry, but it is not my day. What do you mean, sir? During the season, Father, I only talk seriously on the first Tuesday in every month, from four to seven. Well, make it Tuesday, sir. Make it Tuesday. But it is after seven, father, and my doctor says I must not have any serious conversation after seven. It makes me talk in my sleep.

Talk in your sleep, sir. What does that matter? You are not married? No, father, I am not married. Hum, that is what I have come to talk to you about, sir. You have got to get married, and at once. Why, when I was your age, sir, I had been an inconsolable widower for three months,

and was already paying my addresses to your admirable mother. Damn me, sir, it is your duty to get married. You can't always be living for pleasure Every man of position is married nowadays Bachelors are not fashionable anymore They are a damaged lot Too much is known about them You must get a wife, sir

Look where your friend Robert Chilton has got By probity, hard work And a sensible marriage with a good woman Why don't you imitate him, sir? Why don't you take him for your model? I think I shall, Father. I wish you would, sir. Then I should be happy.

At present I make your mother's life miserable on your account. You are heartless, sir, quite heartless. I hope not, father. And it is high time for you to get married. You are thirty-four years of age, sir. Yes, father, but I only admit to thirty-two. Thirty-one and a half when I have a really good boy. buttonhole. This buttonhole is not trivial enough. I tell you you are 34, sir, and there is a draft in

your room besides, which makes your conduct worse. Why did you tell me there was no draft, sir? I feel a draft, sir, I feel it distinctly. So do I, father. It is a dreadful draft. I will come and see you tomorrow, father. We can talk over anything you like. "'Let me help you on with your cloak, father?' "'No, sir. I have called this evening for a definite purpose, "'and I am going to see it through at all costs to my health or yours. "'Put down my cloak, sir.' "'Certainly, father. But let us go into another room.'

"'Rings bell.' "'There is a dreadful draft here.' "'Enter Phipps.' "'Fipps, is there a good fire in the smoking-room?' "'Yes, my lord.' "'Come in there, father. Your sneezes are quite heart-rending.' "'Well, sir, I suppose I have a right to sneeze when I choose.' "'Apologetically.'

"'Quite so, father. I was merely expressing sympathy.' "'Oh, damn sympathy. There's a great deal too much of that sort of thing going on nowadays.' "'I quite agree with you, father. If there was less sympathy in the world, there would be less trouble in the world.' Goes towards the smoking room. That is a paradox, sir. I hate paradoxes. So do I, father. Everybody one meets is a paradox nowadays. It is a great bore.

It makes society so obvious. Turning round and looking at his son beneath his bushy eyebrows. Do you always really understand what you say, sir? After some hesitation. Yes, father, if I listen attentively. indignantly if you listen attentively conceited young puppy goes off grumbling into the smoking-room phipps enters phipps there is a lady coming to see me this evening on particular business show her into the drawing-room when she arrives you understand yes my lord it is a matter of gravest importance phipps i understand my lord no one else is to be admitted to be admitted to-you-lawed under any circumstances.

I understand, my lord. Bell rings. Ah, that is probably the lady. I shall see her myself. Just as he is going towards the door, Lord Cavarsham enters from the smoking-room. Well, sir, am I to wait attendance on you? Considerably perplexed.

In a moment, father, do excuse me. Lord Cavarsham goes back. Remember my instruction, Phipps, into that room. Yes, my lord. Lord Goring goes into the smoking room. Harold, the footman, shows Mrs. Chivley in. Lemia-like, she is in green and silver. She has a cloak of black satin, lined with dead rose-leaf silk.

What name, madam? To Phipps, who advances towards her. Is Lord Goring not here? I was told he was at home. His lordship is engaged at present with Lord Carersham, Madame. Turns a cold, glassy eye on Harold, who at once retires. To herself. How very feel you.

His lordship told me to ask you, madam, to be kind enough to wait in the drawing-room for him. His lordship will come to you there. With a look of surprise. Lord Goring expects me. Yes, madam. Are you quite sure? His lordship told me that if a lady called, I was to ask her to wait in the drawing room.

Goes to the door of the drawing room and opens it. His lordship's directions on the subject were very precise. To herself. How thoughtful of him. To expect the unexpected shows a thoroughly modern intellect. Goes towards the drawing-room and looks in. Ugh, how dreary a bachelor's drawing-room always looks. I shall have to alter all this.

Phipps brings the lamp from the writing-table. No, I don't care for that lamp. It is far too glaring. Light some candles. Replaces lamp. Certainly, madame. i hope the candles have very becoming shades we have had no complaint about them madame as yet passes into the drawing-room and begins to light the candles to herself i wonder what woman he is waiting for to-night it will be delightful to catch him men always look so silly when they are caught and they are always being caught looks about the room and approaches the writing-table

What a very interesting room. What a very interesting picture. Wonder what his correspondence is like. Takes up letters. Oh, what a very uninteresting correspondence. Bills and cards, debts and dowagers. Who on earth writes to him on pink paper? How silly to write on pink paper.

It looks like the beginning of a middle-class romance. Romance should never begin with sentiment. It should begin with science and end with a settlement. Puts letter down, then takes it up again. I know that handwriting. That is Gertrude Chilterns. I remember it perfectly. The Ten Commandments in every stroke of the pen

and the moral law all over the page. Wonder what Gertrude is writing to him about. Something horrid about me. I suppose. How I detest that woman. Reads it. I trust you, I want you. I am coming to you, Gertrude. I trust you, I want you. I am coming to you. A look of triumph comes over her face. She is just about to steal the letter when Phipps comes in.

The candles in the drawing room are lit, madam, as you directed. Thank you. rises hastily and slips the letter under a large silver-cased blotting-book that is lying on the table. I trust the shades will be to your liking, madame. They are the most becoming we have. They are the same as his lordship uses himself when he is dressing for dinner. With a smile. Then I am sure they will be perfectly right.

Gravely. Thank you, madame. Mrs. Chivley goes into the drawing room. Phipps closes the door and retires. The door is then slowly opened and Mrs. Chivley comes out and creeps stealthily towards the writing table. Suddenly voices are heard from the smoking room and Mrs. Chivley grows pale. She stops. The voices grow louder and she goes back into the drawing room, biting her lip.

Enter Lord Goring and Lord Cavarsham. Expostulating. My dear father. If I am to get married, surely you will allow me to choose the time, place, and person, particularly the person. Tastily. That is a matter for me, sir. You would probably make a very poor choice. It is I who should be consulted, not you.

There is property at stake. It is not a matter for affection. Affection comes later on in married life. Yes, in married life affection comes when people thoroughly dislike each other, father. doesn't it? Put on Lord Cavisham's cloak for him. Certainly, sir. I mean certainly not, sir.

You are talking very foolishly tonight. What I say is that marriage is a matter for common sense. But women who have common sense are so curiously plain, father, aren't they? Of course I only speak from here, say. No woman, plain or pretty, has any common sense at all, sir. common sense is the privilege of our sex. Quite so. And we men are so self-sacrificing that we never use it, do we, father?

I use it, sir. I use nothing else. So my mother tells me. It is the secret of your mother's happiness. You are very heartless, sir, very heartless. I hope not, father. Goes out for a moment, then returns. looking rather put out with Sir Robert Chilton. My dear Arthur, what a piece of good luck meeting you on the doorstep.

Your servant had just told me you were not at home. How extraordinary. The fact is, I am horribly busy tonight, Robert, and I gave orders I was not at home to anyone. Even my father had a comparatively cold reception. He complained of a draft the whole time. Ah, you must be at home to me, Arthur. You are my best friend. perhaps by tomorrow you will be my only friend. My wife has discovered everything. I guessed as much. Looking at him.

Really? How? After some hesitation. Oh, merely by something in the expression of your face as you came in. Who told her? Mrs. Chivley herself, and the woman I love knows that I began my friend, career with an act of low dishonesty, that I built up my life upon sands of shame, that I sold like a common huckster the secret that had been entrusted to me as a man of honour. I thank heaven,

poor Lord Radley died without knowing that I betrayed him. I would to God I had died before I had been so horribly tempted, or had fallen so low. Burying his face in his hands. After a You have heard nothing from Vienna yet in answer to your wire? Looking up. Yes, I got a telegram from the First Secretary at 8 o'clock tonight. Well? Nothing is absolutely known against her. On the contrary, she occupies a rather high position in society.

It is a sort of open secret that Baron Arnheim left her the greater portion of his immense fortune. Beyond that, I can learn nothing. She doesn't turn out to be a spy, then? Oh, spies are of no use nowadays. Their profession is over. The newspapers do their work instead. And thunderingly well they do it. Arthur, I'm parched with thirst.

May I ring for something? Some hock and seltzer. Certainly. Let me. Rings the bell. Thanks. I don't know what to do, Arthur. I don'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? Enter Phipps. My dear Robert, of course. Oh. To Phipps. Bring some hawk and seltzer.

Yes, my lord. And Phipps? Yes, my lord. Will you excuse me for a moment, Robert? I want to give some directions. to my servant. Certainly. When that lady calls,

tell her that I am not expected home this evening. Tell her that I have been suddenly called out of town. You understand? The lady is in that room, my lord. You told me to show her into that room, my lord. You did perfectly right. Exit, Phipps. What a mess I am in.

No, I think I should get through it. I'll give her a lecture through the door. Awkward thing to manage, though. Arthur, tell me what I should do. My life seems to have crumbled about me. I am a ship without a rudder in a night without a star. Robert, you love your wife, don't you? I love her more than anything in the world.

I used to think ambition the great thing. It is not. Love is the great thing in the world. There is nothing but love, and I love her. But I am defamed in her eyes. I am ignoble in her eyes. There is a wide gulf between us now. She has found me out, Arthur. She has found me out. Has she never in her life done some folly, some indiscretion, that she should not forgive your sin? "'My wife, never. "'She doesn't know what weakness or temptation is. "'I am of clay like other men.

"'She stands apart as good women do, "'pityless in her perfection, "'cold and stern and without mercy. "'But I love her, Arthur. "'We are childless, and I have no one else to love, "'no one else to love me. "'Perhaps if God had sent us children "'she might have been kinder to me.

But God has given us a lonely house, and she has cut my heart in two. Don't let us talk of it. I was brutal to her this evening. But I suppose when sinners talk to saints, they are brutal always. I said to her things that were hideously true on my side from my standpoint, from the standpoint of men. But don't let's talk of that. Your wife will forgive you. Perhaps at this moment she is forgiving you.

you, she loves you, Robert. Why should she not forgive? God granted! God granted! Berries his face in his hands. But there is something more, I have to tell you, Arthur. Enter Phipps with drinks. Hans Hock and Seltzer to Sir Robert Chilton. Hock and Seltzer, sir? Thank you.

Is your carriage here, Robert? No, I've walked from the... club. Sir Robert will take my camp, Phipps. Yes, my lord. Exit. Robert, you don't mind my sending you away. Arthur, you must let me stay for five minutes. I have made up my mind what I'm going to do tonight in the house. The debate on the Argentine Canal is to begin at eleven.

A chair falls in the drawing room. What is that? Nothing. I had a chair fall in the room. in the next room. Someone's been listening. No, no, there is no one there. There is someone. There are some lights in the room, and the door is ajar. Someone's been listening to every secret of my life. Arthur, what does this mean?

Robert, you are excited, unnerved. I tell you there is no one in that room. Sit down, Robert. Do you give me your word of honour there? There is no one there? Yes. Your word of honour sits down Yes Rises Arthur

Let me see for myself No no If there is no one there Why should I not look in that room Arthur you must let me go into that room And satisfy myself Let me know that no eavesdropper Has heard my life's secret

Arthur you don't realise what I'm going through Robert this must stop I have told you there's no one in that room that is enough. Ruses to the door of the room. It is not enough. I insist on going into this room. You have told me there is no one there,

so what reason can you have for refusing me? For God's sake, don't. There is someone there. Someone whom you must not see. Ah, I thought so. I forbid you to enter that room. Stand back. My life is at stake,

and I don't care who is there. I will know who it is to whom I have told my secret and my shame. Enter's room. Great heavens his own wife. Sir Robert Chilton comes back with a look of scorn and anger on his face. What explanation have you to give for the presence of that woman here? Robert, I swear to you on my honour that the lady is stainless and guiltless of all offence toward you. She is a vile and ill-o'nizabeth.

infamous thing. Don't say that, Robert. It was for your sake she came here. It was to try and save you. She came here. She loves you, and no one else. You are mad. What have I to do with her intrigues with you? Let her remain your mistress. You are well suited to each other. She, corrupt and shameful, you, false as a friend, treacherous as an enemy even. It is not true, Robert. Before heaven, it is not true in her presence and in yours, I will explain all. Let me pass, sir. You have lied enough upon your word of honour. Sir Robert Chilton goes out. Lord Goring rushes to the door of the drawing-room, when Mrs. Chevely comes out, looking radiant and much amused, with a mock curtsy.

Good evening, Lord Goring. Mrs. Chivley? Great heavens. May I ask what you were doing in my drawing room? Merely listening. I have a perfect passion for listening through keyholes. One always hears such wonderful things through them. Doesn't that sound rather like tempting Providence? Oh, surely Providence can resist temptation by this time.

Makes a sign to him to take her cloak off, which he does. I am glad you have called. I am going to give you some good advice. Oh, pray don't. One should never give a woman anything that she can't wear in the evening. I see you are quite as willful as you used to be. Far more.

I have greatly improved. I have had more experience. Too much experience is a dangerous thing. Pray, have a cigarette. Half the pretty women in London smoke cigarettes. Personally, I prefer the other half. Thanks, I never smoke. My dressmaker wouldn't like it,

and a woman's first duty in life is to her dressmaker, isn't it? What the second duty is, no one has at yet discovered. You have come here to sell me Robert Chilton's letter, haven't you? To offer it to you on conditions. How did you guess that? Because you haven't mentioned the subject. have you got it with you sitting down oh no a well-made dress has no pockets what is your price for it how absurdly english you are the english think that a cheque-book can solve every problem in life why my dear arthur i have very much more money than you have and quite as much as robert chiltern has got hold of money is not what i want

What do you want, then, Mrs. Chivley? Why don't you call me, Laura? I don't like the name. You used to adore it. Yes, that's why. Mrs. Chivley motions to him to sit down beside her. He smiles and does so. Arthur, you loved me once.

Yes. And you asked me to be your wife. That was the natural result of you. of my loving you. And you threw me over because you saw, or said you saw, poor old Lord Mortlake, trying to have a violent flirtation with me

in the conservatory at Tenby. I am under the impression that my lawyer settled that matter with you on certain terms, dictated by yourself. At that time I was poor. You were rich. Quite so.

That is why you pretended to love me. Shrugging her shoulders. Poor old Lord Mortlake, who had only two topics of conversation, his gout and his wife. I never could 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 never anything more to me than an amusement. One of those utterly tedious amusements one only finds at an English country house

on an English country Sunday. I don't think anyone at all morally responsible for what he or she does at an English country house. Yes, I know lots of people think that. I loved you, Arthur. My dear Mrs. Chively, you have always been far too clever to know anything about love.

I did love you, and you loved me. You know you loved me, and love is a very wonderful thing. I suppose that when a man has once loved a woman, he will do anything for her, except continue to love her? Puts her hand on his, taking his hand away quietly. Yes, except that. After a pause. I am tired of living abroad. I want to come back to London.

I want to have a charming house here. I want to have a salon. If one could only teach the English how to talk, and the Irish how to listen, society here would be quite civilized. Besides, I have arrived at the Romantic stage. When I saw you last night at the Chilterns, I knew you were the only person I had ever cared for. If I ever have cared for anybody, Arthur. And so, on the morning of the day you marry me, I will give you you. you Robert Chiltern's letter. That is my offer. I will give it to you now if you promise to marry me. Now. Smiling.

Tomorrow. Are you really serious? Yes, quite serious. I should make you a very bad husband. I don't mind bad husbands. I have had, too. They amuse me immensely. You mean that you amused yourself? immensely, don't you? What do you know about my married life?

Nothing, but I can read it like a book. What book? Rising. The book of numbers. Do you think it is quite charming of you to be so rude to a woman in your own house? In the case of a very fascinating woman, sex is a challenge, not a defense. I suppose that is meant for a compliment. My dear Arthur, women are never disarmed by compliments.

Men always are. That is the difference between the two sexes. Women are never disarmed by anything, as far as I know them. After a pause. Then you are going to allow your greatest friend, Robert Chiltern, to be ruined, rather than marry someone who really has considerable attractions left? I thought you would have risen to some great height of self-sacrifice, Arthur. I think you should, and the rest of your life you could spend in contemplating your own

perfections. Oh, I do that as it is. And self-sacrifice is a thing that should be put down by law. It is so demoralizing to the people for one whom sacrifices oneself. They always go to the bad. As if anything could demoralize Robert's Chiltern, you seem to forget that I know his real character. What you know about him is not his real character. It was an act of folly done in his youth.

Dishonorable, I admit, shameful, I admit, unworthy of him, I admit, and therefore not his true character. How you men stand up for each other. How you women war against each other. Bitterly. I only war against one woman, against Gertrude Chiltern. I hate him. her. I hate her now more than ever. Because you have brought a real tragedy into her life, I suppose.

With a sneer. Oh, there is only one real tragedy in a woman's life. The fact that her past is always her lover, and her future invariably her husband. Lady Chiltern knows nothing of the kind of life to which you are alluding. A woman whose size in gloves is seven and three quarters, never knows much about anything. You know Gertrude has always worn a seven-and-three-quarters? That is one of the reasons why there was never any moral sympathy between us. Well, Arthur, I suppose this romantic interview may be regarded as at an end.

You admit it was romantic, don't you? For the privilege of being your wife, I was ready to surrender a great prize, the climax of my diplomatic career you decline very well if sir robert doesn't uphold my argentine scheme i expose him voie too you mustn't do that it would be vile horrible infamous shrugging her 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 in it. I offered to sell Robert Chiltern a certain thing. If he won't pay me my price, he will have to pay the world a greater price. There is no more to be said.

I must go. Good-bye. Won't you shake hands? With you? No. Your transaction with Robert Chiltern may pass as a loathsome commercial transaction of a loathsome commercial age. But you seemed to have forgotten that you came here tonight to talk of love. You, whose lips desecrated the word love, you, to whom the thing is a book closely sealed,

went this afternoon to the house of one of the most noble and gentle women in the world, to degrade her husband in her eyes, to try and kill her love for him, to put poison in her heart, and bitterness. in her life, to break her idol, and, it may be, spoil her soul. That, I cannot forgive you, that was horrible. For that, there can be no forgiveness. Arthur, you are unjust to me. Believe me, you are quite unjust to me. I didn't go to taunt Gertrude at all. I had no idea of doing anything of the kind when I entered. I called with

Lady Markby simply to ask whether an ornament, a jewel that I lost somewhere last night, had been found at the Chilterns. If you don't believe me, you can ask Lady Markby. She will tell you it is true. The scene that occurred happened after Lady Markby had left, and was really forced on me by Gertrude's rudeness and sneers. I called, oh, a little out of malice if you like. But really, to ask if a diamond brooch of mine had been found, that was the origin of the whole thing. A diamond snake brooch with a ruby?

Yes, how do you know? Because it is found. In point of fact, I found it myself, and stupidly forgot to tell the butler anything about it as I was leaving. goes over to the writing-table and pulls out the drawer it is in this drawer not that one this is the brooch isn't it holds up the brooch yes i am so glad to get it back it was a present won't you wear it certainly if you pin it in lord goring suddenly clasps it on her arm why do you put it on a as a bracelet. I never knew it could be worn as a bracelet. Really?

Holding out her handsome arm. No, but it looks very well on me as a bracelet, doesn't it? Yes, much better than when I saw it last. When did you see it last? calmly. Oh, ten years ago. On Lady Berkshire, from whom you stole it. starting.

What do you mean? I mean that you stole that ornament from my cousin, Mary Berkshire, to whom I gave it when she was married. Suspicion fell on a wretched servant, who was sent away in disgrace. I recognised it last night. I determined to say nothing about it till I had found the thief. I have found the thief now, and I have heard her own confession. Tossing her head. It is not true.

You know it is true. Why, the thief is written across your face at this very moment. I will deny the whole affair from beginning to end. I will say that I have never seen this wretched thing, that it was never in my possession. Mrs. Chevely tries to get the bracelet 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. The drawback of stealing. a thing, Mrs. Chevely, is that one never knows how wonderful the thing that one steals is. You can't get that bracelet off unless you know where the spring is. And I see you don't know where the spring is. It is rather difficult to find. You brute, you coward. She tries again to unclasp the bracelet but fails. Oh, don't use big words. They mean so little. again tears at the bracelet in a paroxysm of rage with inarticulate sounds then stops and looks at lord goring what are you going to do i am going to ring for my servant he is an admirable servant always comes in the moment one rings for him when he comes i will tell him to fetch the police trembling the police what for

to-morrow the burkshers will prosecute you that is what the police are for is now in an agony of physical terror her face has distorted her mouth awry her mask has fallen from her she is for the moment dreadful to look at don't do that i will do anything you want anything in the world you want give me robert chiltern's letter stop stop Let me have time to think. Give me Robert Chiltern's letter. I have not got it with me. I will give it to you tomorrow. You know you are lying. Give it to me at once. Mrs. Chevely pulls the letter out and hands it to him.

She is horribly pale. This is it? In a hoarse voice. Yes. Takes the letter, examines it, sighs, and burns it with the lamp. "'For so well-dressed a woman, Mrs. Chevely, "'you have moments of admirable common sense.

"'I congratulate you.' "'Catches sight of Lady Chiltern's letter, "'the cover of which is just showing from under the blotting-book. "'Please get me a glass of water.' "'Certainly.' "'Goes to the corner of the room and pours out a glass of water. "'While his back is turned, Mrs. Chevely steals Lady Chiltern's letter. "'When Lord Goring returns with the glass,

She refuses it with a gesture. Thank you. Will you help me on with my cloak? With pleasure. Puts her cloak on. Thanks. I am never going to try to harm Robert Chiltern again. Fortunately, you have not the chance, Mrs. Chevely. Well, if even I had the chance, I wouldn't. On the contrary, I am going to render him a great service.

I am charmed to hear it. It is a reformation. Yes, I can't bear so upright a gentleman, so honorable an English gentleman, being so shamefully deceived, and so— Well— I find that somehow Gertrude Chiltern's dying speech and confession has strayed into my pocket. What do you mean? With a bitter note of triumph in her voice. I mean that I am. going to send Robert's children the love letter his wife wrote to you last night.

Love letter? Laughing. I want you. I trust you. I am coming to you. Gertrude. Lord Goring rushes to the bureau and takes up the envelope, finds it is empty, and turns round. You wretched woman, must you always be thieving? Give me back that letter. I'll take it from you by force. You shall not leave my room till I have got it. towards her, but Mrs. Chevely at once puts her hand on the electric bell that is on the table. The bell sounds with shrill reverberations and Phipps enters. 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 glances like a swift arrow. Lord Goring bites his lip and lights his cigarette. End of Act 3. Fourth act. Scene. Same as Act 2.

Lord Goring is standing by the fireplace with his hands in his pockets. He is looking rather bored. Pulls out his watch, inspects it and rings the bell. It is a great nuisance. I can't find anyone in this house to talk to. and I am full of interesting information. I feel like the latest edition of... Uh...

Something, or other. Enter servant. Sir Robert is still at the foreign office, my lord. Lady Chiltern, not down yet? Her ladyship has not yet left her room. Miss Chiltern has just come in from riding. To himself. Ah, that is something.

Lord Kavisham has been waiting some time in the library for Sir Robert. I told him your lordship was here. Thank you. Would you kindly tell him I've gone? Bowing. I shall do so, my lord. Exit servant. 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 neither be seen nor heard. That is the only proper basin for her family life. mothers are different mothers are darlings throws himself down into a chair picks up her paper and begins to read it Enter Lord Kavisham Well sir

What are you doing here Wasting your time as usual I suppose 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 Have you been thinking over what I saw

spoke to you about last night? I have been thinking of nothing else. Engaged to be married yet? Genially. Not yet. But I hope to be before lunchtime. Corsically. You can have till dinner time if it would be of any convenience to you.

Thanks awfully, but I think I'd sooner be engaged before lunch. Hmm. Never know when you are serious or not. neither do i father a pause i suppose you have read the times this morning 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 demoralizing do you mean to say you have not read the times leading article on robert chiltern's career good heavens No. What does it say? What should it say, sir? Everything complimentary, of course. Children's speech last night on this Argentine canal scheme was one of the finest pieces of oratory ever delivered in the house since Canning.

Ah, never heard of Canning. Never wanted to, and did, um, did Chiltern uphold the scheme? Uphold it, sir? How little will 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 statesman, brilliant orator, unblemished career, well-known integrity of character,

represents what is best in English public life, noble contrast to the lax morality among foreign politicians. They will never say that of you, sir. I sincerely hope not, Father. However, I am delighted at what you tell me about Robert, thoroughly delighted. It shows he has got pluck. He has got more than pluck, sir. He has got genius.

I prefer pluck. It is not so common nowadays as geniuses. I wish you would go into Parliament. My dear father, only people who look dull ever get into the House of Commons, and only people who are dull ever succeed there. Why don't you try to do something useful in life? I am far too young. Testily.

I hate this affectation of youth, sir. It has a great deal too prevalent nowadays. Youth isn't an affectation. Youth is an art. Why don't you propose to that pretty Miss Chiltern? I am of a very nervous disposition, especially in the morning. I don't suppose there's the smallest chance of her accepting you. I don't know how the betting stands today.

If she did accept you, she would be the prettiest fool in England. 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. You don't deserve her, sir. My dear father, if we men married the women we deserved, we should have a very bad time of it. Enter Mabel Chilton. Oh, how do you do, Lord Cavisham?

I hope Lady Cavisham is quite well. Lady Cavisham is as usual as usual. Good morning, Miss Mabel. Taking no notice at all of Lord Goring, and addressing herself exclusively to Lord Cavisham. And Lady Cavisham's bonnets, are they at all better? They've had a serious relapse, I'm sorry to say. Good morning, Miss Mabel.

To Lord Cavisham. I hope an operation will not be necessary. Smiling at her pertness. If it is, we shall have to give Lady Kavisham a narcotic. Otherwise, she will never consent to have a single feather touched. With increased emphasis. Good morning, Miss Mabel. Turning round with feigned surprise.

Oh, are you here? Of course you understand that after breaking your appointment, I am never going to speak to you again. Oh, please don't say such a thing. You are the one person in London I really like to have to listen to me. Lord Goring, I never believe a single word that either you or I say to each other. You are quite right, my dear. Quite right. As far as he is concerned, I mean. Do you think you could possibly make your son behave a little better occasionally? Just as a change. I regret to say, Miss Chiltern, I have no influence over my son. I wish I had. If I had, I know what I would make him do. I am afraid that he has one of those terribly weak natures that are not susceptible to influence.

He is very heartless, very heartless. It seems to me that I am a little in the way here. It is very good for you to be in the way, and to know what people say of you behind your back. I don't at all like knowing what people say of me behind my back. It makes me far too conceited. After that, my dear, I really must bid you good morning. Oh, I hope you are not going to leave me all alone with Lord Goring, especially at such an early hour in the day.

I am afraid I can't take him to Downing Street. It is not the Prime Minister's day for seeing the unemployed. Shakes hands with Mabel Chilton, takes up his hands. and stick and goes out with a parting glare of indignation at Lord Goring. 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. Detestable. I am glad you admit it.

But I wish you wouldn't look so pleased about it. I can't help it. I always look pleased when I am with you. Sadly. Then I suppose it is my duty to remain with you. of course it is well my duty is a thing i never do on principle it always depresses me so i'm afraid i must leave you please don't miss mabel i have something very particular to say to you rapturously oh is it a proposal somewhat taken aback well yes it is i i am bound to say it is With a sigh of pleasure.

I am so glad that makes the second today. Indignantly. The second? Today? What conceited ass has been impertinent enough to dare to propose to you before I had proposed to you? Tommy Trafford, of course. It is one of Tommy's days for proposing. He always proposes on Tuesdays and Thursdays during the season.

Oh, you didn't accept him, I hope. 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 oh bother tommy treford tommy is a silly little lass i love you i know and i think you might have mentioned it before i am sure i have given you heaps of opportunities mabel do be serious please be serious 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 taking hold of her hand mabel i have told you that i love you can't you love me a little in return you silly arthur if you knew anything about anything which you don't you would know that i adore you everyone 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. Catches her in his arms and kisses her. Then there is a pause of bliss. Oh dear Do you know I was awfully afraid of being refused Looking up at him But you never have been refused yet by anybody, have you Arthur? I can't imagine anyone refusing you After kissing her again

Of course I'm not nearly good enough for you, Mabel Nestling close to him I am so glad darling I was afraid you were After some hesitation And I'm... I'm a little over, 30. Dear, you look weeks younger than that.

Enthusiasticly. How sweet of you to say so. And it is only fair to tell you, frankly, that I am fearfully extravagant. But so am I, Arthur, so we're sure to agree. And now I must go and see Gertrude. Must you really? kisses her yes

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 do you mean to say you didn't come here

expressly to propose to me triumphantly no that was a flash of genius your first with determination my last 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. Dear Mabel, while you are away, there are none. It makes me horribly dependent on you. Enter Lady Chiltern. Good morning, dear. How pretty you are looking. How pale you are looking, Gertrude. It is most becoming. Good morning, Lord Goring.

Bowing. Good morning, Lady Chiltern. to Lord Goring. I shall be in the conservatory, under the second palm tree on the left. Second on the left. With a look of mock surprise. Yes, the usual palm tree. Blows a kiss to him, unobserved by Lady Chilton, and goes out.

Lady Chiltern, I have a certain amount of very good news to tell you. Mrs. Chevely gave me up, Robert's letter last night, and I burned it. Robert is safe. Sinking on the sofa. Safe. Oh, I am so glad of that. What a good friend you are to him. To us. There is only one person now that could be said to be of any danger.

Who is that? Sitting down beside her. Yourself. I? In danger? What do you mean? Danger is too great. to 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. Chevely stole that letter from my rooms. Well, what uses it to her? Why should she not have it? Rising Lady Chiltern, I will be quite frank with you. Mrs. Chievelie puts a certain construction on that letter, and proposes to send it to your husband. 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. Mrs. Chively 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, that a chair or something fell over in the room.

He forced his way in, and he discovered her. It had a terrible scene. I still thought it was you. He left me in anger. At the end of everything, Mrs. Chevely got possession of your letter. She stole it. When or how? I don't know.

At what hour did this happen? At half-past ten. and now I propose that we tell Robert the whole thing at once. Looking at him with amazement that is almost terror. You want me to tell Robert that the woman you expected was not Mrs. Chevely 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? I think it is better that he should know the exact truth.

Rising. Oh! I quote him. I couldn't! I couldn't! May I do it? No! Gravely. You are wrong, Lady Chilton. 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? you tell me what to do. Pray be calm, Lady Chiltern, and answer the questions I'm going to put to you. You said his secretary has opened his letters. Yes.

Who is with him today? Mr. Trafford, isn't it? No, Mr. Montfort, I think. You can trust him? With a gesture of despair. Oh, how do I know? He would do what you asked him, wouldn't he? I think so.

Your letter, was on pink paper. He could recognize it without reading it, couldn't he, by the color? I suppose so. Is he in the house now? Yes. 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 today, and that at all costs it must not reach him. Goes to the door and opens it. Oh! Robert is coming upstairs with a letter in his hand. It has reached him already.

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 "'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. "'Lord, unseen by Sir Robert Chilton, makes an imploring sign to lady children to accept the situation and Sir Robert's error. Yes. You trust me, Gertrude? Yes.

Ah, why did you not add that you loved me? Taking his hand. Because I love you. Lord Goring passes into the conservatory. 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 that you loved me still. There is no disgrace in store for you, nor any public shame. Mrs. Chevely has handed over to Lord Goring the document that was in her possession, and he has destroyed it. Are you sure of this, Gertrude? Yes, Lord Goring has just told me. Then I am safe. Oh, what a wonderful thing to be safe. For two days I've been in terror. I'm safe now. How did Arthur destroy my letter? Tell me. He burned it. I wish I had seen that one sin of my youth burning to ashes. How many men there are in modern life who would like to see their past burning to white ashes before them. Is Arthur still here?

Yes. He is in the conservatory. I'm so glad now I made that speech last night in the house. So glad. I made it thinking that public disgrace might be the result, but it has not been so. Public honour has been the result. I think so. I fear so almost. For although I am so, safe from detection, although every proof against me is destroyed. I suppose, Gertrude, I suppose I should retire from public life.' He looks anxiously at his wife. Eagerly. "'Oh, yes, Robert, you should do that. It is your duty to do that.' "'It is much to surrender.'

"'No, it will be much to gain.' Sir Robert Chilton walks up and down the room. with a troubled expression, then comes over to his wife and puts his hand on her shoulder. And you would be happy living somewhere alone with me, abroad perhaps, or in the country away from London, away from public life? You would have no regrets? Oh, none, Robert. Sadly. And your ambition for me? You used to be so ambitious for me. Oh, my ambition. I have none now. But that we'd

Two may love each other. It was your ambition that led you astray. Let us not talk about ambition. Lord Goring returns from the conservatory, looking very pleased with himself, and with an entirely new buttonhole that someone has made for him. Going towards him. Arthur, I have to thank you for what you have done for me. I don't know how I can repay you. Shakes hands with him. My dear fellow, I'll tell you at once. At the present moment, under the usual palm tree, I mean in the conservatory. Enter Mason. Lord Cavisham. That admirable father of mine really makes a habit of turning up at the wrong moment. It is very heartless of him, very heartless indeed.

Enter Lord Cavisham. Mason goes out. Good morning, lady, Chiltern. Warmest congratulations to you, Chiltern, on your brilliant speech last night. I have just left the Prime Minister, and you were to have the vacant seat in the Cabinet. With a look of joy and triumph. A seat in the Cabinet? Yes, here is the Prime Minister's letter. Hans Letter. Takes letter and reads it.

A seat in the Cabinet. Certainly, and you well deserve it, too. You have got what we want so much in political life nowadays. high character, high moral tone, high principles. To Lord Goring. Everything that you have not got, sir, and never will have. I don't like principles, father, I prefer prejudices. Sir Robert Chilton is on the brink of accepting the Prime Minister's offer

when he sees his wife looking at him with her clear, candid eyes, that he then realizes that it is impossible. I cannot accept this. offer, Lord Kavisham. I have made up my mind to decline it. Decline it, sir. My intention is to retire at once from public life. Angrily. Decline a seat in the cabinet and retire from public life? I've never heard such damned nonsense

in the whole course of my existence. I beg your pardon, Lady Chiltern. Chiltern, I beg your pardon. To Lord Goring. Don't grin like that, sir. No, father. Lady Chiltern, you are a sensible woman, the most sensible woman in London, the most sensible woman, I know. Would you kindly prevent your husband from taking such a, from taking such? Would you kindly do that, Lady Chiltern? I think my husband is right in his determination, Lord Cavisham. I approve of it.

You approve of it? Good heavens! Taking her husband's hand. I admire him for it. I admire him in many. for it. I have never admired him so much before. He is finer than even I thought him. To Sir Robert Chilton. You will go and write your letter to the Prime Minister now, won't you? Don't hesitate about it, Robert. With a touch of bitterness. I suppose I had better write it at once. Such offers are not repeated. I will ask you to excuse me for a moment, Lord Cavisham.

I may come with you, Robert, may I not? "'Yes, Gertrude.' "'Lady Chilton goes out with him. "'What is the matter with this family? "'Something wrong here, eh?' "'Tapping his forehead. "'Idiacy, hereditary, I suppose, both of them, too, "'wife as well as husband, very sad, very sad indeed.

"'And they are not an old family. "'Can't understand it.' "'It is not idiocy, father, I assure you.' "'What is it, then, sir?' After some hesitation. Well, it is what is called nowadays. A high moral tone, father. That is all.

Hate these newfangled names. Same thing we used to call idiocy 50 years ago. Shouldn't stay in this house any longer. Taking his arm. Oh, just go in here for a moment, father. Third palm tree to the left, the usual palm tree. What, sir? I beg your pardon, father.

Father, I forgot. The Conservatory, Father, the Conservatory, there is someone there I want you to talk to. What about, sir? About me, father. Grimly. Not a subject on which much eloquence is possible. No, father, but the lady is like me. She doesn't care much for eloquence in others. She thinks it a little loud. Lord Cabersham goes out into the Conservatory.

Lady Chiltern enters. Lady Chiltern. Why are you playing Mrs. Chievelry's cards? Startled. I don't understand you. Mrs. Chivley made an attempt to ruin your husband, either to drive him from public life

or to make him adopt a dishonorable position. From the latter tragedy, you saved him. The former you are now thrusting on him. Why should you do him the wrong Mrs. Chivley try to do and failed. Lord Goring? Pulling himself together for a great effort and showing the philosopher that underlies the dandy. Lady Chiltern, allow me.

You wrote me a letter last night, in which you said you trusted me and wanted my help. Now is the moment when you really want my help. Now is the time when you have got to trust me, to trust in my counsel and judgment. You love Robert. Do you want to kill his love for you? What sort of existence will he have if you rob him of the fruits of his ambition? If you take him from the splendor of a great political career, if you close the doors of public life against him,

if you condemn him to sterile failure, he who was made for triumphant success. women are not meant to judge us, but to forgive us when we need forgiveness. Pardon, not punishment, is their mission. Why should you scourge him with rods for his sin done in his youth? Before he knew you, before he knew himself! A man's life is of more value than a woman's.

It has larger issues, a wider scope, greater imbeats. a wider scope, greater ambitions. A woman's life revolves in curves of emotions. It is upon lines of intellect that a man's life progresses. Don't make any terrible mistake now, Lady Chiltern. A woman who can keep a man's love and love him in return has done all the world wants of women, or should want of them. hold them hesitating but it is my husband himself who wishes to retire from public life he feels it is his duty it was he who first said so

rather than lose your love robert would do anything wreck his whole career as he is on the brink of doing now he is making for you a terrible sacrifice take my advice lady chiltern and do not accept a a sacrifice so great. If you do, you will live to repent it bitterly. We men and women are not made to accept such sacrifices from each other. We are not worthy of them. Besides, Robert has been punished enough. We have both been punished. I set him up too high.

With deep feeling in his voice. Do not for that reason. Set him down now too low. If he has fallen from his altar, do not thrust him into the mire? Failure to Robert would be the very mire of shame. Power is his passion. He would lose everything. Even his power to feel love. Your husband's life is at this moment in your hands.

Your husband's love is in your hands. Don't mob both for him. Enter Sir Robert Chilton. Gertrude, here is the draft of my letter. Shall I read it to you? Let me see it. Sir Robert hands her the letter. She reads it and then with a gesture of passion, tears it up. What are you doing? A man's life is of more value than a woman's.

It has larger issues, wider scope, greater ambitions. Our lives revolve in curves of emotion. It is upon lines of intellect that a man's life progresses. I have just learnt this, and much else with it, from Lord Goring. And I will not spoil your life for you, nor see you spoil it as a sacrifice to me, a useless sacrifice. Gertrude, Gertrude! You can forget. Men easily forget, and I forgive. That is how women help the world.

see that now. Deeply overcome by emotion embraces her. My wife, my wife. To Lord Goring. Arthur, it seems that I am always to be in your debt. Oh, dear little Robert. Your debt is to Lady Chiltern, not to me. I owe you much. And now tell me, what were you going to ask me just now as Lord Cavisham came in? Robert. You are your sister's guardian, and I want your consent to my marriage with her. That is all.

Oh, I am so glad. I am so glad. Shakes hands with Lord Goring. Thank you, Lady Chiltern. With a troubled look. My sister to be your wife? Yes. Speaking with great firmness. Arthur, I'm very sorry, but the thing is quite,

out of the question. I have to think of Mabel's future happiness, and I don't think her happiness would be safe in your hands. And I cannot have her sacrificed. Sacrificed? Yes, utterly sacrificed. Loveless marriages are horrible, but there is one thing worse than an absolutely loveless marriage, a marriage in which there is love, but on one side only, faith but on one side only, devotion but on one side only, and in which of the two hearts one is sure to be broken. But I love Mabel.

No other woman has any place in my life. Robert, if they love each other, why should they not be married? Arthur cannot bring Mabel the love that she deserves. What reason have you for saying that? After a pause. Do you really require me to tell you? Certainly I do.

As you choose. When I called on you yesterday evening, I found Mrs. Chevely concealed in your rooms. It was between ten and eleven o'clock at night. I do not wish to say anything more. Your relations with Mrs. Chevely have, as I said to you last night, nothing whatsoever to do with me. I know you were engaged to be mad.

married to her once. The fascination she exercised over you then seems to have returned. You spoke to me last night of her as of a woman pure and stainless, a woman whom you respected and honoured. That may be so, but I cannot give my sister's life into your hands. It would be wrong of me. It would be unjust, infamously unjust to her. I have nothing more to say. Robert It was not Mrs. Chevely whom Lord Goring expected last night

Not Mrs. Chevely. Who was it then? Lady Chiltern. It was your own wife. Robert, yesterday afternoon, Lord Goring told me that if ever I was in trouble I could come to him for help, as he was our oldest and best friend.

Later on, after that terrible scene in this room, I wrote to him telling him that I trusted him, that I had need of him, that I was coming to him for help and advice. Sir Robert Chilton 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. Chively 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. 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 for a moment. There is no name at the beginning of this letter. the brilliant Mrs. Chevely does not seem to have noticed that. There should be a name. Let me write yours. It is you I trust in need. You and none else. Well, really, Lady Chiltern, I think I should have back my own letter. Smiling. No, you shall have Mabel. Takes the letter and writes her husband's name on it.

Well, I hope she hasn't changed her mind. It's nearly 20 minutes since I saw her last. Enter Mabel Chilton and Lord Cavarsham. Lord Goring, I think your father's conversation much more improving than yours. I am only going to talk to Lord Cavisham in the future, and always under the usual palm tree. Darling! Kisses her, 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. Certainly, father. And Chiltern's been wise enough to accept the seat in the cabinet.

I am very glad to hear that, Chiltern. I congratulate you, sir. If this country doesn't go to the dogs or the radicals, we shall have you as Prime Minister some day. Enter Mason. Luncheon is on the table, my lady. Mason goes out. You'll stop to luncheon, Lord Cavisham, won't you? With pleasure, and I'll drive you down to Downing Street afterwards, Chiltern. You have a 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.

Yes, father. I prefer it domestic. And if you don't make this young lady an ideal husband, I'll cut you off with a shilling. An ideal husband? Oh, I don't think I should like that. It sounds like something in the next world. What do you want him?

to be then, dear. He can be what he chooses. All I want is to be, to be, oh, a real wife to him. Upon my word, there is a good deal of common sense in that Lady Chiltern. They all go out except Sir Robert Chilton. He sinks in a chair, wrapped in thought. After a little time, Lady Chilton returns the look for him. Leaning over the back of the chair,

"'Aren't you coming in, Robert?' "'Taking her hand. "'Gertrude, is it love you feel for me, "'or is it pity merely?' "'Kisses him.' "'It is love, Robert. "'Love and only love. "'For both of us a new life is beginning.'

"'Curton. "'Eend of Act 4. "'End of an ideal husband by Oscar Wilde.