An Ideal Husband by Oscar Wilde (classic books for 11 year olds .txt) 📕

as I know

them.

 

MRS. CHEVELEY. [After a pause.] Then you are going to allow your

greatest friend, Robert Chiltern, to be ruined, rather than marry

some one 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.

 

LORD GORING. Oh! I do that as it is. And self-sacrifice is a thing

that should be put down by law. It is so demoralising to the people

for whom one sacrifices oneself. They always go to the bad.

 

MRS. CHEVELEY. As if anything could demoralise Robert Chiltern! You

seem to forget that I know his real character.

 

LORD GORING. What you know about him is not his real character. It

was an act of folly done in his youth, dishonourable, I admit,

shameful, I admit, unworthy of him, I admit, and therefore … not

his true character.

 

MRS. CHEVELEY. How you men stand up for each other!

 

LORD GORING. How you women war against each other!

 

MRS. CHEVELEY. [Bitterly.] I only war against one woman, against

Gertrude Chiltern. I hate her. I hate her now more than ever.

 

LORD GORING. Because you have brought a real tragedy into her life,

I suppose.

 

MRS. CHEVELEY. [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.

 

LORD GORING. Lady Chiltern knows nothing of the kind of life to

which you are alluding.

 

MRS. CHEVELEY. A woman whose size in gloves is seven and three-quarters never knows much about anything. You know Gertrude has

always worn 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. VOILE TOUT.

 

LORD GORING. You mustn’t do that. It would be vile, horrible,

infamous.

 

MRS. CHEVELEY. [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?

 

LORD GORING. With you? No. Your transaction with Robert Chiltern

may pass as a loathsome commercial transaction of a loathsome

commercial age; but you seem to have forgotten that you came here to-night 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.

 

MRS. CHEVELEY. 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.

 

LORD GORING. A diamond snake-brooch with a ruby?

 

MRS. CHEVELEY. Yes. How do you know?

 

LORD GORING. 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

drawers.] It is in this drawer. No, that one. This is the brooch,

isn’t it? [Holds up the brooch.]

 

MRS. CHEVELEY. Yes. I am so glad to get it back. It was . . a

present.

 

LORD GORING. Won’t you wear it?

 

MRS. CHEVELEY. Certainly, if you pin it in. [LORD GORING suddenly

clasps it on her arm.] Why do you put it on as a bracelet? I never

knew it could he worn as a bracelet.

 

LORD GORING. Really?

 

MRS. CHEVELEY. [Holding out her handsome arm.] No; but it looks

very well on me as a bracelet, doesn’t it?

 

LORD GORING. Yes; much better than when I saw it last.

 

MRS. CHEVELEY. When did you see it last?

 

LORD GORING. [Calmly.] Oh, ten years ago, on Lady Berkshire, from

whom you stole it.

 

MRS. CHEVELEY. [Starting.] What do you mean?

 

LORD GORING. 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.

 

MRS. CHEVELEY. [Tossing her head.] It is not true.

 

LORD GORING. You know it is true. Why, thief is written across your

face at this moment.

 

MRS. CHEVELEY. 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. CHEVELEY 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.]

 

LORD GORING. The drawback of stealing a thing, Mrs. Cheveley, 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.

 

MRS. CHEVELEY. You brute! You coward! [She tries again to unclasp

the bracelet, but fails.]

 

LORD GORING. Oh! don’t use big words. They mean so little.

 

MRS. CHEVELEY. [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?

 

LORD GORING. 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.

 

MRS. CHEVELEY. [Trembling.] The police? What for?

 

LORD GORING. To-morrow the Berkshires will prosecute you. That is

what the police are for.

 

MRS. CHEVELEY. [Is now in an agony of physical terror. Her face is

distorted. Her mouth awry. A mask has fallen from her. She it, for

the moment, dreadful to look at.] Don’t do that. I will do anything

you want. Anything in the world you want.

 

LORD GORING. Give me Robert Chiltern’s letter.

 

MRS. CHEVELEY. Stop! Stop! Let me have time to think.

 

LORD GORING. Give me Robert Chiltern’s letter.

 

MRS. CHEVELEY. I have not got it with me. I will give it to you to-morrow.

 

LORD GORING. You know you are lying. Give it to me at once. [MRS.

CHEVELEY pulls the letter out, and hands it to him. She is horribly

pale.] This is it?

 

MRS. CHEVELEY. [In a hoarse voice.] Yes.

 

LORD GORING. [Takes the letter, examines it, sighs, and burns it

with the lamp.] For so well-dressed a woman, Mrs. Cheveley, you have

moments of admirable common sense. I congratulate you.

 

MRS. CHEVELEY. [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.

 

LORD GORING. Certainly. [Goes to the corner of the room and pours

out a glass of water. While his back is turned MRS. CHEVELEY steals

LADY CHILTERN’S letter. When LORD GORING returns the glass she

refuses it with a gesture.]

 

MRS. CHEVELEY. Thank you. Will you help me on with my cloak?

 

LORD GORING. With pleasure. [Puts her cloak on.]

 

MRS. CHEVELEY. Thanks. I am never going to try to harm Robert

Chiltern again.

 

LORD GORING. Fortunately you have not the chance, Mrs. Cheveley.

 

MRS. CHEVELEY. Well, if even I had the chance, I wouldn’t. On the

contrary, I am going to render him a great service.

 

LORD GORING. I am charmed to hear it. It is a reformation.

 

MRS. CHEVELEY. Yes. I can’t bear so upright a gentleman, so

honourable an English gentleman, being so shamefully deceived, and so

-

LORD GORING. Well?

 

MRS. CHEVELEY. I find that somehow Gertrude Chiltern’s dying speech

and confession has strayed into my pocket.

 

LORD GORING. What do you mean?

 

MRS. CHEVELEY. [With a bitter note of triumph in her voice.] I mean

that I am going to send Robert Chiltern the love-letter his wife

wrote to you to-night.

 

LORD GORING. Love-letter?

 

MRS. CHEVELEY. [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 is

empty, and turns round.]

 

LORD GORING. 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.

 

[He rushes towards her, but MRS. CHEVELEY at once puts her hand on

the electric bell that is on the table. The bell sounds with shrill

reverberations, and PHIPPS enters.]

 

MRS. CHEVELEY. [After a pause.] Lord Goring merely rang that you

should show me out. Good-night, Lord Goring!

 

[Goes out followed by PHIPPS. Her face it illumined with evil

triumph. There is joy in her eyes. Youth seems to have come back to

her. Her last glance is like a swift arrow. LORD GORING bites his

lip, and lights his a cigarette.]

ACT DROPS FOURTH ACT SCENE

Same as Act II.

 

[LORD GORING is standing by the fireplace with his hands in his

pockets. He is looking rather bored.]

 

LORD GORING. [Pulls out his watch, inspects it, and rings the bell.]

It is a great nuisance. I can’t find any one in this house to talk

to. And I am full of interesting information. I feel like the

latest edition of something or other.

 

[Enter servant.]

 

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

 

LORD GORING. Lady Chiltern not down yet?

 

JAMES. Her ladyship has not yet left her room. Miss Chiltern has

just come in from riding.

 

LORD GORING. [To himself.] Ah! that is something.

 

JAMES. Lord Caversham has been waiting some time in the library for

Sir Robert. I told him your lordship was here.

 

LORD GORING. Thank you! Would you kindly tell him I’ve gone?

 

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

 

[Exit servant.]

 

LORD GORING. Really, I don’t