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<div style='text-align:center; font-size:1.2em; font-weight:bold'>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Lady Windermere’s Fan, by Oscar Wilde</div>
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<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: Lady Windermere’s Fan</div>
<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Oscar Wilde</div>
<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: January 25, 1997 [eBook #790]<br />
[Most recently updated: June 7, 2021]</div>
<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</div>
<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Character set encoding: UTF-8</div>
<div style='display:block; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Produced by: David Price</div>
<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LADY WINDERMERE’S FAN ***</div>
<h1>LADY WINDERMERE’S FAN</h1>
<p style="text-align: center">A PLAY<br />
ABOUT A GOOD WOMAN</p>
<p style="text-align: center"><span
class="GutSmall">BY</span></p>
<p style="text-align: center"><b>OSCAR WILDE</b></p>
<div class="gapspace"> </div>
<p style="text-align: center">METHUEN & CO. LTD.<br />
36 ESSEX STREET W.C.<br />
LONDON</p>
<p style="text-align: center"><span class="GutSmall"><i>Sixteenth
Edition</i></span></p>
<table>
<tr>
<td><p><i>First Published</i></p>
</td>
<td><p style="text-align: right"><i>1893</i></p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td><p><i>First Issued by Methuen & Co. Ltd.</i> (<i>Limited
Editions on Hand-made Paper and Japanese Vellum</i>)
<i>February</i></p>
</td>
<td><p style="text-align: right"><i>1908</i></p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td><p><i>Third Edition</i> (<i>F’cap</i> 8<i>vo</i>,
5<i>s.</i> <i>net</i>) <i>September</i></p>
</td>
<td><p style="text-align: right"><i>1909</i></p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td><p><i>Fourth Edition</i> (5<i>s.</i> <i>net</i>)
<i>June</i></p>
</td>
<td><p style="text-align: right"><i>1910</i></p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td><p><i>Fifth Edition</i> (<i>F’cap</i> 8<i>vo</i>,
1<i>s.</i> <i>net</i>) <i>November 3rd</i></p>
</td>
<td><p style="text-align: right"><i>1911</i></p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td><p><i>Sixth Edition</i> (1<i>s.</i> <i>net</i>)
<i>November</i></p>
</td>
<td><p style="text-align: right"><i>1911</i></p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td><p><i>Eighth Edition</i> (1<i>s.</i> <i>net</i>) <i>1912</i>,
<i>Ninth and Tenth Editions</i> (1<i>s.</i> <i>net</i>)
<i>1913</i>, <i>Eleventh Edition</i> (1<i>s.</i> <i>net</i>)
<i>1914</i>, <i>Twelfth Edition</i> (1<i>s.</i> <i>net</i>)
<i>1915</i>, <i>Thirteenth Edition</i> (1<i>s.</i> <i>net</i>)
<i>1916</i>, <i>Fourteenth and Fifteenth Edition</i> (1<i>s.</i>
<i>net</i>) <i>1917</i></p>
</td>
<td><p style="text-align: right"> </p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td><p><i>Sixteenth Edition</i> (5<i>s.</i> <i>net</i>)</p>
</td>
<td><p style="text-align: right"><i>1917</i></p>
</td>
</tr>
</table>
<p><i>The literary and dramatic rights of</i> “<i>Lady
Windermere’s Fan</i>” <i>belong to Sir George
Alexander</i>, <i>by arrangement with whom this play is included
in this edition</i>. <i>The acting version</i> (<i>Samuel
French</i>) <i>does not contain the complete text</i>.</p>
<div class="gapspace"> </div>
<p style="text-align: center">TO<br />
THE DEAR MEMORY<br />
OF<br />
ROBERT EARL OF LYTTON<br />
IN AFFECTION<br />
AND<br />
ADMIRATION</p>
<div class="gapspace"> </div>
<h2>THE PERSONS OF THE PLAY</h2>
<p>Lord Windermere</p>
<p>Lord Darlington</p>
<p>Lord Augustus Lorton</p>
<p>Mr. Dumby</p>
<p>Mr. Cecil Graham</p>
<p>Mr. Hopper</p>
<p>Parker, Butler</p>
<div class="gapspace"> </div>
<p>Lady Windermere</p>
<p>The Duchess of Berwick</p>
<p>Lady Agatha Carlisle</p>
<p>Lady Plymdale</p>
<p>Lady Stutfield</p>
<p>Lady Jedburgh</p>
<p>Mrs. Cowper-Cowper</p>
<p>Mrs. Erlynne</p>
<p>Rosalie, Maid</p>
<h2>THE SCENES OF THE PLAY</h2>
<table>
<tr>
<td><p><span class="smcap">Act</span> I.</p>
</td>
<td><p><i>Morning-room in Lord Windermere’s house</i>.</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td><p><span class="smcap">Act</span> II.</p>
</td>
<td><p><i>Drawing-room in Lord Windermere’s house</i>.</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td><p><span class="smcap">Act</span> III.</p>
</td>
<td><p><i>Lord Darlington’s rooms</i>.</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td><p><span class="smcap">Act</span> IV.</p>
</td>
<td><p><i>Same as Act I.</i></p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td><p><span class="smcap">Time</span>:</p>
</td>
<td><p><i>The Present</i>.</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td><p><span class="smcap">Place</span>:</p>
</td>
<td><p><i>London</i>.</p>
</td>
</tr>
</table>
<p><i>The action of the play takes place within twenty-four
hours</i>, <i>beginning on a Tuesday afternoon at five
o’clock</i>, <i>and ending the next day at</i> 1.30
<i>p.m.</i></p>
<h2>LONDON: ST. JAMES’S THEATRE</h2>
<p style="text-align: center"><i>Lessee and Manager</i>: <i>Mr.
George Alexander</i><br />
<i>February</i> 22<i>nd</i>, 1892.</p>
<table>
<tr>
<td><p><span class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span></p>
</td>
<td><p><i>Mr. George Alexander</i>.</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td><p><span class="smcap">Lord Darlington</span></p>
</td>
<td><p><i>Mr. Nutcombe Gould</i>.</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td><p><span class="smcap">Lord Augustus Lorton</span></p>
</td>
<td><p><i>Mr. H. H. Vincent</i>.</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td><p><span class="smcap">Mr. Cecil Graham</span></p>
</td>
<td><p><i>Mr. Ben Webster</i>.</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td><p><span class="smcap">Mr. Dumby</span></p>
</td>
<td><p><i>Mr. Vane-Tempest</i>.</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td><p><span class="smcap">Mr. Hopper</span></p>
</td>
<td><p><i>Mr. Alfred Holles</i>.</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td><p><span class="smcap">Parker</span> (<i>Butler</i>)</p>
</td>
<td><p><i>Mr. V. Sansbury</i>.</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td><p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span></p>
</td>
<td><p><i>Miss Lily Hanbury</i>.</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td><p><span class="smcap">The Duchess of Berwick</span></p>
</td>
<td><p><i>Miss Fanny Coleman</i>.</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td><p><span class="smcap">Lady Agatha Carlisle</span></p>
</td>
<td><p><i>Miss Laura Graves</i>.</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td><p><span class="smcap">Lady Plymdale</span></p>
</td>
<td><p><i>Miss Granville</i>.</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td><p><span class="smcap">Lady Jedburgh</span></p>
</td>
<td><p><i>Miss B. Page</i>.</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td><p><span class="smcap">Lady Stutfield</span></p>
</td>
<td><p><i>Miss Madge Girdlestone</i>.</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td><p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Cowper-Cowper</span></p>
</td>
<td><p><i>Miss A. de Winton</i>.</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td><p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Erlynne</span></p>
</td>
<td><p><i>Miss Marion Terry</i>.</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td><p><span class="smcap">Rosalie</span> (<i>Maid</i>)</p>
</td>
<td><p><i>Miss Winifred Dolan</i>.</p>
</td>
</tr>
</table>
<h2>FIRST ACT</h2>
<p style="text-align: center">SCENE</p>
<p><i>Morning-room of Lord Windermere’s house in Carlton
House Terrace</i>. <i>Doors C. and R. Bureau with
books and papers R.</i> <i>Sofa with small tea-table
L.</i> <i>Window opening on to terrace L.</i>
<i>Table R.</i></p>
<p>[<span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span> <i>is at table
R.</i>, <i>arranging roses in a blue bowl</i>.]</p>
<p>[<i>Enter</i> <span class="smcap">Parker</span>.]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Parker</span>. Is your ladyship at
home this afternoon?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>.
Yes—who has called?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Parker</span>. Lord Darlington, my
lady.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>.
[<i>Hesitates for a moment</i>.] Show him up—and
I’m at home to any one who calls.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Parker</span>. Yes, my lady.</p>
<p style="text-align: right">[<i>Exit C.</i>]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. It’s
best for me to see him before to-night. I’m glad
he’s come.</p>
<p>[<i>Enter</i> <span class="smcap">Parker</span> <i>C.</i>]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Parker</span>. Lord Darlington,</p>
<p>[<i>Enter</i> <span class="smcap">Lord Darlington</span>
<i>C.</i>]</p>
<p style="text-align: right">[<i>Exit</i> <span
class="smcap">Parker</span>.]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Darlington</span>. How do you
do, Lady Windermere?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. How do you
do, Lord Darlington? No, I can’t shake hands with
you. My hands are all wet with these roses.
Aren’t they lovely? They came up from Selby this
morning.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Darlington</span>. They are
quite perfect. [<i>Sees a fan lying on the
table</i>.] And what a wonderful fan! May I look at
it?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. Do.
Pretty, isn’t it! It’s got my name on it, and
everything. I have only just seen it myself.
It’s my husband’s birthday present to me. You
know to-day is my birthday?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Darlington</span>. No? Is
it really?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. Yes,
I’m of age to-day. Quite an important day in my life,
isn’t it? That is why I am giving this party
to-night. Do sit down. [<i>Still arranging
flowers</i>.]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Darlington</span>. [<i>Sitting
down</i>.] I wish I had known it was your birthday, Lady
Windermere. I would have covered the whole street in front
of your house with flowers for you to walk on. They are
made for you.</p>
<p style="text-align: right">[<i>A short pause</i>.]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. Lord
Darlington, you annoyed me last night at the Foreign
Office. I am afraid you are going to annoy me again.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Darlington</span>. I, Lady
Windermere?</p>
<p>[<i>Enter</i> <span class="smcap">Parker</span> <i>and</i>
<span class="smcap">Footman</span> <i>C.</i>, <i>with tray and
tea things</i>.]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. Put it
there, Parker. That will do. [<i>Wipes her hands with
her pocket-handkerchief</i>, <i>goes to tea-table</i>, <i>and
sits down</i>.] Won’t you come over, Lord
Darlington?</p>
<p style="text-align: right">[<i>Exit</i> <span
class="smcap">Parker</span> <i>C.</i>]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Darlington</span>. [<i>Takes
chair and goes across L.C.</i>] I am quite miserable, Lady
Windermere. You must tell me what I did. [<i>Sits
down at table L.</i>]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. Well, you
kept paying me elaborate compliments the whole evening.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Darlington</span>.
[<i>Smiling</i>.] Ah, nowadays we are all of us so hard up,
that the only pleasant things to pay <i>are</i>
compliments. They’re the only things we <i>can</i>
pay.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. [<i>Shaking
her head</i>.] No, I am talking very seriously. You
mustn’t laugh, I am quite serious. I don’t like
compliments, and I don’t see why a man should think he is
pleasing a woman enormously when he says to her a whole heap of
things that he doesn’t mean.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Darlington</span>. Ah, but I
did mean them. [<i>Takes tea which she offers him</i>.]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>.
[<i>Gravely</i>.] I hope not. I should be sorry to
have to quarrel with you, Lord Darlington. I like you very
much, you know that. But I shouldn’t like you at all
if I thought you were what most other men are. Believe me,
you are better than most other men, and I sometimes think you
pretend to be worse.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Darlington</span>. We all have
our little vanities, Lady Windermere.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. Why do you
make that your special one? [<i>Still seated at table
L.</i>]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Darlington</span>. [<i>Still
seated L.C.</i>] Oh, nowadays so many conceited people go
about Society pretending to be good, that I think it shows rather
a sweet and modest disposition to pretend to be bad.
Besides, there is this to be said. If you pretend to be
good, the world takes you very seriously. If you pretend to
be bad, it doesn’t. Such is the astounding stupidity
of optimism.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. Don’t
you <i>want</i> the world to take you seriously then, Lord
Darlington?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Darlington</span>. No, not the
world. Who are the people the world takes seriously?
All the dull people one can think of, from the Bishops down to
the bores. I should like <i>you</i> to take me very
seriously, Lady Windermere, <i>you</i> more than any one else in
life.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>.
Why—why me?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Darlington</span>. [<i>After a
slight hesitation</i>.] Because I think we might be great
friends. Let us be great friends. You may want a
friend some day.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. Why do you
say that?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Darlington</span>. Oh!—we
all want friends at times.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. I think
we’re very good friends already, Lord Darlington. We
can always remain so as long as you don’t—</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Darlington</span>. Don’t
what?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. Don’t
spoil it by saying extravagant silly things to me. You
think I am a Puritan, I suppose? Well, I have something of
the Puritan in me. I was brought up like that. I am
glad of it. My mother died when I was a mere child. I
lived always with Lady Julia, my father’s elder sister, you
know. She was stern to me, but she taught me what the world
is forgetting, the difference that there is between what is right
and what is wrong. <i>She</i> allowed of no
compromise. <i>I</i> allow of none.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Darlington</span>. My dear Lady
Windermere!</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. [<i>Leaning
back on the sofa</i>.] You look on me as being behind the
age.—Well, I am! I should be sorry to be on the same
level as an age like this.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Darlington</span>. You think
the age very bad?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. Yes.
Nowadays people seem to look on life as a speculation. It
is not a speculation. It is a sacrament. Its ideal is
Love. Its purification is sacrifice.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Darlington</span>.
[<i>Smiling</i>.] Oh, anything is better than being
sacrificed!</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. [<i>Leaning
forward</i>.] Don’t say that.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Darlington</span>. I do say
it. I feel it—I know it.</p>
<p>[<i>Enter</i> <span class="smcap">Parker</span> <i>C.</i>]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Parker</span>. The men want to know
if they are to put the carpets on the terrace for to-night, my
lady?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. You
don’t think it will rain, Lord Darlington, do you?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Darlington</span>. I
won’t hear of its raining on your birthday!</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. Tell them to
do it at once, Parker.</p>
<p style="text-align: right">[<i>Exit</i> <span
class="smcap">Parker</span> <i>C.</i>]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Darlington</span>. [<i>Still
seated</i>.] Do you think then—of course I am only
putting an imaginary instance—do you think that in the case
of a young married couple, say about two years married, if the
husband suddenly becomes the intimate friend of a woman
of—well, more than doubtful character—is always
calling upon her, lunching with her, and probably paying her
bills—do you think that the wife should not console
herself?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>.
[<i>Frowning</i>.] Console herself?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Darlington</span>. Yes, I think
she should—I think she has the right.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. Because the
husband is vile—should the wife be vile also?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Darlington</span>. Vileness is
a terrible word, Lady Windermere.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. It is a
terrible thing, Lord Darlington.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Darlington</span>. Do you know
I am afraid that good people do a great deal of harm in this
world. Certainly the greatest harm they do is that they
make badness of such extraordinary importance. It is absurd
to divide people into good and bad. People are either
charming or tedious. I take the side of the charming, and
you, Lady Windermere, can’t help belonging to them.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. Now, Lord
Darlington. [<i>Rising and crossing R.</i>, <i>front of
him</i>.] Don’t stir, I am merely going to finish my
flowers. [<i>Goes to table R.C.</i>]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Darlington</span>. [<i>Rising
and moving chair</i>.] And I must say I think you are very
hard on modern life, Lady Windermere. Of course there is
much against it, I admit. Most women, for instance,
nowadays, are rather mercenary.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. Don’t
talk about such people.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Darlington</span>. Well then,
setting aside mercenary people, who, of course, are dreadful, do
you think seriously that women who have committed what the world
calls a fault should never be forgiven?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. [<i>Standing
at table</i>.] I think they should never be forgiven.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Darlington</span>. And
men? Do you think that there should be the same laws for
men as there are for women?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>.
Certainly!</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Darlington</span>. I think life
too complex a thing to be settled by these hard and fast
rules.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. If we had
‘these hard and fast rules,’ we should find life much
more simple.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Darlington</span>. You allow of
no exceptions?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. None!</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Darlington</span>. Ah, what a
fascinating Puritan you are, Lady Windermere!</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. The
adjective was unnecessary, Lord Darlington.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Darlington</span>. I
couldn’t help it. I can resist everything except
temptation.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. You have the
modern affectation of weakness.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Darlington</span>. [<i>Looking
at her</i>.] It’s only an affectation, Lady
Windermere.</p>
<p>[<i>Enter</i> <span class="smcap">Parker</span> <i>C.</i>]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Parker</span>. The Duchess of
Berwick and Lady Agatha Carlisle.</p>
<p>[<i>Enter the</i> <span class="smcap">Duchess of
Berwick</span> and <span class="smcap">Lady Agatha
Carlisle</span> <i>C.</i>]</p>
<p style="text-align: right">[<i>Exit</i> <span
class="smcap">Parker</span> <i>C.</i>]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Duchess of Berwick</span>.
[<i>Coming down C.</i>, <i>and shaking hands</i>.] Dear
Margaret, I am so pleased to see you. You remember Agatha,
don’t you? [<i>Crossing L.C.</i>] How do you
do, Lord Darlington? I won’t let you know my
daughter, you are far too wicked.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Darlington</span>. Don’t
say that, Duchess. As a wicked man I am a complete
failure. Why, there are lots of people who say I have never
really done anything wrong in the whole course of my life.
Of course they only say it behind my back.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Duchess of Berwick</span>.
Isn’t he dreadful? Agatha, this is Lord
Darlington. Mind you don’t believe a word he
says. [<span class="smcap">Lord Darlington</span>
<i>crosses R.C.</i>] No, no tea, thank you, dear.
[<i>Crosses and sits on sofa</i>.] We have just had tea at
Lady Markby’s. Such bad tea, too. It was quite
undrinkable. I wasn’t at all surprised. Her own
son-in-law supplies it. Agatha is looking forward so much
to your ball to-night, dear Margaret.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. [<i>Seated
L.C.</i>] Oh, you mustn’t think it is going to be a
ball, Duchess. It is only a dance in honour of my
birthday. A small and early.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Darlington</span>. [<i>Standing
L.C.</i>] Very small, very early, and very select,
Duchess.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Duchess of Berwick</span>. [<i>On
sofa L.</i>] Of course it’s going to be select.
But we know <i>that</i>, dear Margaret, about <i>your</i>
house. It is really one of the few houses in London where I
can take Agatha, and where I feel perfectly secure about dear
Berwick. I don’t know what society is coming
to. The most dreadful people seem to go everywhere.
They certainly come to my parties—the men get quite furious
if one doesn’t ask them. Really, some one should make
a stand against it.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. <i>I</i>
will, Duchess. I will have no one in my house about whom
there is any scandal.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Darlington</span>.
[<i>R.C.</i>] Oh, don’t say that, Lady
Windermere. I should never be admitted!
[<i>Sitting</i>.]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Duchess of Berwick</span>. Oh, men
don’t matter. With women it is different.
We’re good. Some of us are, at least. But we
are positively getting elbowed into the corner. Our
husbands would really forget our existence if we didn’t nag
at them from time to time, just to remind them that we have a
perfect legal right to do so.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Darlington</span>. It’s a
curious thing, Duchess, about the game of marriage—a game,
by the way, that is going out of fashion—the wives hold all
the honours, and invariably lose the odd trick.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Duchess of Berwick</span>. The
odd trick? Is that the husband, Lord Darlington?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Darlington</span>. It would be
rather a good name for the modern husband.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Duchess of Berwick</span>. Dear Lord
Darlington, how thoroughly depraved you are!</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. Lord
Darlington is trivial.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Darlington</span>. Ah,
don’t say that, Lady Windermere.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. Why do you
<i>talk</i> so trivially about life, then?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Darlington</span>. Because I
think that life is far too important a thing ever to talk
seriously about it. [<i>Moves up C.</i>]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Duchess of Berwick</span>. What does
he mean? Do, as a concession to my poor wits, Lord
Darlington, just explain to me what you really mean.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Darlington</span>. [<i>Coming
down back of table</i>.] I think I had better not,
Duchess. Nowadays to be intelligible is to be found
out. Good-bye! [<i>Shakes hands with</i> <span
class="smcap">Duchess</span>.] And now—[<i>goes up
stage</i>] Lady Windermere, good-bye. I may come to-night,
mayn’t I? Do let me come.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. [<i>Standing
up stage with</i> <span class="smcap">Lord
Darlington</span>.] Yes, certainly. But you are not
to say foolish, insincere things to people.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Darlington</span>.
[<i>Smiling</i>.] Ah! you are beginning to reform me.
It is a dangerous thing to reform any one, Lady Windermere.
[<i>Bows</i>, <i>and exit C.</i>]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Duchess of Berwick</span>. [<i>Who
has risen</i>, <i>goes C.</i>] What a charming, wicked
creature! I like him so much. I’m quite
delighted he’s gone! How sweet you’re
looking! Where <i>do</i> you get your gowns? And now
I must tell you how sorry I am for you, dear Margaret.
[<i>Crosses to sofa and sits with</i> <span class="smcap">Lady
Windermere</span>.] Agatha, darling!</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Agatha</span>. Yes,
mamma. [<i>Rises</i>.]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Duchess of Berwick</span>. Will you
go and look over the photograph album that I see there?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Agatha</span>. Yes,
mamma. [<i>Goes to table up L.</i>]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Duchess of Berwick</span>. Dear
girl! She is so fond of photographs of Switzerland.
Such a pure taste, I think. But I really am so sorry for
you, Margaret.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>.
[<i>Smiling</i>.] Why, Duchess?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Duchess of Berwick</span>. Oh, on
account of that horrid woman. She dresses so well, too,
which makes it much worse, sets such a dreadful example.
Augustus—you know my disreputable brother—such a
trial to us all—well, Augustus is completely infatuated
about her. It is quite scandalous, for she is absolutely
inadmissible into society. Many a woman has a past, but I
am told that she has at least a dozen, and that they all fit.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. Whom are you
talking about, Duchess?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Duchess of Berwick</span>. About
Mrs. Erlynne.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. Mrs.
Erlynne? I never heard of her, Duchess. And what
<i>has</i> she to do with me?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Duchess of Berwick</span>. My poor
child! Agatha, darling!</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Agatha</span>. Yes, mamma.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Duchess of Berwick</span>. Will you
go out on the terrace and look at the sunset?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Agatha</span>. Yes, mamma.</p>
<p style="text-align: right">[<i>Exit through window</i>,
<i>L.</i>]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Duchess of Berwick</span>. Sweet
girl! So devoted to sunsets! Shows such refinement of
feeling, does it not? After all, there is nothing like
Nature, is there?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. But what is
it, Duchess? Why do you talk to me about this person?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Duchess of Berwick</span>.
Don’t you really know? I assure you we’re all
so distressed about it. Only last night at dear Lady
Jansen’s every one was saying how extraordinary it was
that, of all men in London, Windermere should behave in such a
way.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. My
husband—what has <i>he</i> got to do with any woman of that
kind?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Duchess of Berwick</span>. Ah, what
indeed, dear? That is the point. He goes to see her
continually, and stops for hours at a time, and while he is there
she is not at home to any one. Not that many ladies call on
her, dear, but she has a great many disreputable men
friends—my own brother particularly, as I told
you—and that is what makes it so dreadful about
Windermere. We looked upon <i>him</i> as being such a model
husband, but I am afraid there is no doubt about it. My
dear nieces—you know the Saville girls, don’t
you?—such nice domestic creatures—plain, dreadfully
plain, but so good—well, they’re always at the window
doing fancy work, and making ugly things for the poor, which I
think so useful of them in these dreadful socialistic days, and
this terrible woman has taken a house in Curzon Street, right
opposite them—such a respectable street, too! I
don’t know what we’re coming to! And they tell
me that Windermere goes there four and five times a
week—they <i>see</i> him. They can’t help
it—and although they never talk scandal, they—well,
of course—they remark on it to every one. And the
worst of it all is that I have been told that this woman has got
a great deal of money out of somebody, for it seems that she came
to London six months ago without anything at all to speak of, and
now she has this charming house in Mayfair, drives her ponies in
the Park every afternoon and all—well, all—since she
has known poor dear Windermere.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. Oh, I
can’t believe it!</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Duchess of Berwick</span>. But
it’s quite true, my dear. The whole of London knows
it. That is why I felt it was better to come and talk to
you, and advise you to take Windermere away at once to Homburg or
to Aix, where he’ll have something to amuse him, and where
you can watch him all day long. I assure you, my dear, that
on several occasions after I was first married, I had to pretend
to be very ill, and was obliged to drink the most unpleasant
mineral waters, merely to get Berwick out of town. He was
so extremely susceptible. Though I am bound to say he never
gave away any large sums of money to anybody. He is far too
high-principled for that!</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>.
[<i>Interrupting</i>.] Duchess, Duchess, it’s
impossible! [<i>Rising and crossing stage to C.</i>]
We are only married two years. Our child is but six months
old. [<i>Sits in chair R. of L. table</i>.]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Duchess of Berwick</span>. Ah, the
dear pretty baby! How is the little darling? Is it a
boy or a girl? I hope a girl—Ah, no, I remember
it’s a boy! I’m so sorry. Boys are so
wicked. My boy is excessively immoral. You
wouldn’t believe at what hours he comes home. And
he’s only left Oxford a few months—I really
don’t know what they teach them there.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. Are
<i>all</i> men bad?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Duchess of Berwick</span>. Oh, all
of them, my dear, all of them, without any exception. And
they never grow any better. Men become old, but they never
become good.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. Windermere
and I married for love.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Duchess of Berwick</span>. Yes, we
begin like that. It was only Berwick’s brutal and
incessant threats of suicide that made me accept him at all, and
before the year was out, he was running after all kinds of
petticoats, every colour, every shape, every material. In
fact, before the honeymoon was over, I caught him winking at my
maid, a most pretty, respectable girl. I dismissed her at
once without a character.—No, I remember I passed her on to
my sister; poor dear Sir George is so short-sighted, I thought it
wouldn’t matter. But it did, though—it was most
unfortunate. [<i>Rises</i>.] And now, my dear child,
I must go, as we are dining out. And mind you don’t
take this little aberration of Windermere’s too much to
heart. Just take him abroad, and he’ll come back to
you all right.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. Come back to
me? [<i>C.</i>]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Duchess of Berwick</span>.
[<i>L.C.</i>] Yes, dear, these wicked women get our
husbands away from us, but they always come back, slightly
damaged, of course. And don’t make scenes, men hate
them!</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. It is very
kind of you, Duchess, to come and tell me all this. But I
can’t believe that my husband is untrue to me.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Duchess of Berwick</span>. Pretty
child! I was like that once. Now I know that all men
are monsters. [<span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>
<i>rings bell</i>.] The only thing to do is to feed the
wretches well. A good cook does wonders, and that I know
you have. My dear Margaret, you are not going to cry?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. You
needn’t be afraid, Duchess, I never cry.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Duchess of Berwick</span>.
That’s quite right, dear. Crying is the refuge of
plain women but the ruin of pretty ones. Agatha,
darling!</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Agatha</span>. [<i>Entering
L.</i>] Yes, mamma. [<i>Stands back of table
L.C.</i>]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Duchess of Berwick</span>. Come and
bid good-bye to Lady Windermere, and thank her for your charming
visit. [<i>Coming down again</i>.] And by the way, I
must thank you for sending a card to Mr. Hopper—he’s
that rich young Australian people are taking such notice of just
at present. His father made a great fortune by selling some
kind of food in circular tins—most palatable, I
believe—I fancy it is the thing the servants always refuse
to eat. But the son is quite interesting. I think
he’s attracted by dear Agatha’s clever talk. Of
course, we should be very sorry to lose her, but I think that a
mother who doesn’t part with a daughter every season has no
real affection. We’re coming to-night, dear.
[<span class="smcap">Parker</span> <i>opens C. doors</i>.]
And remember my advice, take the poor fellow out of town at once,
it is the only thing to do. Good-bye, once more; come,
Agatha.</p>
<p style="text-align: right">[<i>Exeunt</i> <span
class="smcap">Duchess</span> <i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Lady
Agatha</span> <i>C.</i>]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. How
horrible! I understand now what Lord Darlington meant by
the imaginary instance of the couple not two years married.
Oh! it can’t be true—she spoke of enormous sums of
money paid to this woman. I know where Arthur keeps his
bank book—in one of the drawers of that desk. I might
find out by that. I <i>will</i> find out. [<i>Opens
drawer</i>.] No, it is some hideous mistake.
[<i>Rises and goes C.</i>] Some silly scandal! He
loves <i>me</i>! He loves <i>me</i>! But why should I
not look? I am his wife, I have a right to look!
[<i>Returns to bureau</i>, <i>takes out book and examines it page
by page</i>, <i>smiles and gives a sigh of relief</i>.] I
knew it! there is not a word of truth in this stupid story.
[<i>Puts book back in drawer</i>. <i>As he does so</i>,
<i>starts and takes out another book</i>.] A second
book—private—locked! [<i>Tries to open it</i>,
<i>but fails</i>. <i>Sees paper knife on bureau</i>, <i>and
with it cuts cover from book</i>. <i>Begins to start at the
first page</i>.] ‘Mrs.
Erlynne—£600—Mrs.
Erlynne—£700—Mrs.
Erlynne—£400.’ Oh! it is true! It
is true! How horrible! [<i>Throws book on
floor</i>.]</p>
<p style="text-align: right">[<i>Enter</i> <span
class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span> <i>C.</i>]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span>. Well, dear,
has the fan been sent home yet? [<i>Going R.C.</i>
<i>Sees book</i>.] Margaret, you have cut open my bank
book. You have no right to do such a thing!</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. You think it
wrong that you are found out, don’t you?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span>. I think it
wrong that a wife should spy on her husband.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. I did not
spy on you. I never knew of this woman’s existence
till half an hour ago. Some one who pitied me was kind
enough to tell me what every one in London knows
already—your daily visits to Curzon Street, your mad
infatuation, the monstrous sums of money you squander on this
infamous woman! [<i>Crossing L.</i>]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span>. Margaret!
don’t talk like that of Mrs. Erlynne, you don’t know
how unjust it is!</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. [<i>Turning
to him</i>.] You are very jealous of Mrs. Erlynne’s
honour. I wish you had been as jealous of mine.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span>. Your honour
is untouched, Margaret. You don’t think for a moment
that—[<i>Puts book back into desk</i>.]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. I think that
you spend your money strangely. That is all. Oh,
don’t imagine I mind about the money. As far as I am
concerned, you may squander everything we have. But what I
<i>do</i> mind is that you who have loved me, you who have taught
me to love you, should pass from the love that is given to the
love that is bought. Oh, it’s horrible!
[<i>Sits on sofa</i>.] And it is I who feel degraded!
<i>you</i> don’t feel anything. I feel stained,
utterly stained. You can’t realise how hideous the
last six months seems to me now—every kiss you have given
me is tainted in my memory.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span>. [<i>Crossing
to her</i>.] Don’t say that, Margaret. I never
loved any one in the whole world but you.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>.
[<i>Rises</i>.] Who is this woman, then? Why do you
take a house for her?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span>. I did not
take a house for her.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. You gave her
the money to do it, which is the same thing.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span>. Margaret, as
far as I have known Mrs. Erlynne—</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. Is there a
Mr. Erlynne—or is he a myth?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span>. Her husband
died many years ago. She is alone in the world.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. No
relations? [<i>A pause</i>.]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span>. None.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. Rather
curious, isn’t it? [<i>L.</i>]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span>.
[<i>L.C.</i>] Margaret, I was saying to you—and I beg
you to listen to me—that as far as I have known Mrs.
Erlynne, she has conducted herself well. If years
ago—</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. Oh!
[<i>Crossing R.C.</i>] I don’t want details about her
life!</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span>.
[<i>C.</i>] I am not going to give you any details about
her life. I tell you simply this—Mrs. Erlynne was
once honoured, loved, respected. She was well born, she had
position—she lost everything—threw it away, if you
like. That makes it all the more bitter. Misfortunes
one can endure—they come from outside, they are
accidents. But to suffer for one’s own
faults—ah!—there is the sting of life. It was
twenty years ago, too. She was little more than a girl
then. She had been a wife for even less time than you
have.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. I am not
interested in her—and—you should not mention this
woman and me in the same breath. It is an error of
taste. [<i>Sitting R. at desk</i>.]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span>. Margaret,
you could save this woman. She wants to get back into
society, and she wants you to help her. [<i>Crossing to
her</i>.]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. Me!</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span>. Yes,
you.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. How
impertinent of her! [<i>A pause</i>.]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span>. Margaret, I
came to ask you a great favour, and I still ask it of you, though
you have discovered what I had intended you should never have
known that I have given Mrs. Erlynne a large sum of money.
I want you to send her an invitation for our party
to-night. [<i>Standing L. of her</i>.]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. You are
mad! [<i>Rises</i>.]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span>. I entreat
you. People may chatter about her, do chatter about her, of
course, but they don’t know anything definite against
her. She has been to several houses—not to houses
where you would go, I admit, but still to houses where women who
are in what is called Society nowadays do go. That does not
content her. She wants you to receive her once.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. As a triumph
for her, I suppose?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span>. No; but
because she knows that you are a good woman—and that if she
comes here once she will have a chance of a happier, a surer life
than she has had. She will make no further effort to know
you. Won’t you help a woman who is trying to get
back?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. No! If
a woman really repents, she never wishes to return to the society
that has made or seen her ruin.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span>. I beg of
you.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. [<i>Crossing
to door R.</i>] I am going to dress for dinner, and
don’t mention the subject again this evening. Arthur
[<i>going to him C.</i>], you fancy because I have no father or
mother that I am alone in the world, and that you can treat me as
you choose. You are wrong, I have friends, many
friends.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span>.
[<i>L.C.</i>] Margaret, you are talking foolishly,
recklessly. I won’t argue with you, but I insist upon
your asking Mrs. Erlynne to-night.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>.
[<i>R.C.</i>] I shall do nothing of the kind.
[<i>Crossing L.C.</i>]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span>. You
refuse? [<i>C.</i>]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>.
Absolutely!</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span>. Ah,
Margaret, do this for my sake; it is her last chance.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. What has
that to do with me?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span>. How hard
good women are!</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. How weak bad
men are!</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span>. Margaret,
none of us men may be good enough for the women we
marry—that is quite true—but you don’t imagine
I would ever—oh, the suggestion is monstrous!</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. Why should
<i>you</i> be different from other men? I am told that
there is hardly a husband in London who does not waste his life
over <i>some</i> shameful passion.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span>. I am not one
of them.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. I am not
sure of that!</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span>. You are sure
in your heart. But don’t make chasm after chasm
between us. God knows the last few minutes have thrust us
wide enough apart. Sit down and write the card.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. Nothing in
the whole world would induce me.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span>. [<i>Crossing
to bureau</i>.] Then I will! [<i>Rings electric
bell</i>, <i>sits and writes card</i>.]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. You are
going to invite this woman? [<i>Crossing to him</i>.]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span>. Yes.
[<i>Pause</i>. <i>Enter</i> <span
class="smcap">Parker</span>.] Parker!</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Parker</span>. Yes, my lord.
[<i>Comes down L.C.</i>]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span>. Have this
note sent to Mrs. Erlynne at No. 84A Curzon Street.
[<i>Crossing to L.C. and giving note to</i> <span
class="smcap">Parker</span>.] There is no answer!</p>
<p style="text-align: right">[<i>Exit</i> <span
class="smcap">Parker</span> <i>C.</i>]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. Arthur, if
that woman comes here, I shall insult her.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span>. Margaret,
don’t say that.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. I mean
it.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span>. Child, if
you did such a thing, there’s not a woman in London who
wouldn’t pity you.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. There is not
a <i>good</i> woman in London who would not applaud me. We
have been too lax. We must make an example. I propose
to begin to-night. [<i>Picking up fan</i>.] Yes, you
gave me this fan to-day; it was your birthday present. If
that woman crosses my threshold, I shall strike her across the
face with it.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span>. Margaret,
you couldn’t do such a thing.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. You
don’t know me! [<i>Moves R.</i>]</p>
<p>[<i>Enter</i> <span class="smcap">Parker</span>.]</p>
<p>Parker!</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Parker</span>. Yes, my lady.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. I shall dine
in my own room. I don’t want dinner, in fact.
See that everything is ready by half-past ten. And, Parker,
be sure you pronounce the names of the guests very distinctly
to-night. Sometimes you speak so fast that I miss
them. I am particularly anxious to hear the names quite
clearly, so as to make no mistake. You understand,
Parker?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Parker</span>. Yes, my lady.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. That will
do!</p>
<p style="text-align: right">[<i>Exit</i> <span
class="smcap">Parker</span> <i>C.</i>]</p>
<p>[<i>Speaking to</i> <span class="smcap">Lord
Windermere</span>.] Arthur, if that woman comes
here—I warn you—</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span>. Margaret,
you’ll ruin us!</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. Us!
From this moment my life is separate from yours. But if you
wish to avoid a public scandal, write at once to this woman, and
tell her that I forbid her to come here!</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span>. I will
not—I cannot—she must come!</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. Then I shall
do exactly as I have said. [<i>Goes R.</i>] You leave
me no choice.</p>
<p style="text-align: right">[<i>Exit R.</i>]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span>. [<i>Calling
after her</i>.] Margaret! Margaret! [<i>A
pause</i>.] My God! What shall I do? I dare not
tell her who this woman really is. The shame would kill
her. [<i>Sinks down into a chair and buries his face in his
hands</i>.]</p>
<div class="gapspace"> </div>
<p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">Act
Drop</span></p>
<h2>SECOND ACT</h2>
<p style="text-align: center">SCENE</p>
<p><i>Drawing-room in Lord Windermere’s house</i>.
<i>Door R.U. opening into ball-room</i>, <i>where band is
playing</i>. <i>Door L. through which guests are
entering</i>. <i>Door L.U. opens on to illuminated
terrace</i>. <i>Palms</i>, <i>flowers</i>, <i>and brilliant
lights</i>. <i>Room crowded with guests</i>. <i>Lady
Windermere is receiving them</i>.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Duchess of Berwick</span>. [<i>Up
C.</i>] So strange Lord Windermere isn’t here.
Mr. Hopper is very late, too. You have kept those five
dances for him, Agatha? [<i>Comes down</i>.]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Agatha</span>. Yes, mamma.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Duchess of Berwick</span>.
[<i>Sitting on sofa</i>.] Just let me see your card.
I’m so glad Lady Windermere has revived
cards.—They’re a mother’s only safeguard.
You dear simple little thing! [<i>Scratches out two
names</i>.] No nice girl should ever waltz with such
particularly younger sons! It looks so fast! The last
two dances you might pass on the terrace with Mr. Hopper.</p>
<p>[<i>Enter</i> <span class="smcap">Mr. Dumby</span> <i>and</i>
<span class="smcap">Lady Plymdale</span> <i>from the
ball-room</i>.]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Agatha</span>. Yes, mamma.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Duchess of Berwick</span>.
[<i>Fanning herself</i>.] The air is so pleasant there.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Parker</span>. Mrs.
Cowper-Cowper. Lady Stutfield. Sir James
Royston. Mr. Guy Berkeley.</p>
<p>[<i>These people enter as announced</i>.]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Dumby</span>. Good evening, Lady
Stutfield. I suppose this will be the last ball of the
season?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Stutfield</span>. I suppose so,
Mr. Dumby. It’s been a delightful season,
hasn’t it?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Dumby</span>. Quite
delightful! Good evening, Duchess. I suppose this
will be the last ball of the season?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Duchess of Berwick</span>. I suppose
so, Mr. Dumby. It has been a very dull season, hasn’t
it?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Dumby</span>. Dreadfully dull!
Dreadfully dull!</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Mr. Cowper-Cowper</span>. Good
evening, Mr. Dumby. I suppose this will be the last ball of
the season?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Dumby</span>. Oh, I think not.
There’ll probably be two more. [<i>Wanders back
to</i> <span class="smcap">Lady Plymdale</span>.]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Parker</span>. Mr. Rufford.
Lady Jedburgh and Miss Graham. Mr. Hopper.</p>
<p>[<i>These people enter as announced</i>.]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Hopper</span>. How do you do, Lady
Windermere? How do you do, Duchess? [<i>Bows to</i>
<span class="smcap">Lady Agatha</span>.]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Duchess of Berwick</span>. Dear Mr.
Hopper, how nice of you to come so early. We all know how
you are run after in London.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Hopper</span>. Capital place,
London! They are not nearly so exclusive in London as they
are in Sydney.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Duchess of Berwick</span>. Ah! we
know your value, Mr. Hopper. We wish there were more like
you. It would make life so much easier. Do you know,
Mr. Hopper, dear Agatha and I are so much interested in
Australia. It must be so pretty with all the dear little
kangaroos flying about. Agatha has found it on the
map. What a curious shape it is! Just like a large
packing case. However, it is a very young country,
isn’t it?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Hopper</span>. Wasn’t it made
at the same time as the others, Duchess?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Duchess of Berwick</span>. How
clever you are, Mr. Hopper. You have a cleverness quite of
your own. Now I mustn’t keep you.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Hopper</span>. But I should like to
dance with Lady Agatha, Duchess.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Duchess of Berwick</span>. Well, I
hope she has a dance left. Have you a dance left,
Agatha?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Agatha</span>. Yes, mamma.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Duchess of Berwick</span>. The next
one?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Agatha</span>. Yes, mamma.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Hopper</span>. May I have the
pleasure? [<span class="smcap">Lady Agatha</span>
<i>bows</i>.]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Duchess of Berwick</span>. Mind you
take great care of my little chatterbox, Mr. Hopper.</p>
<p>[<span class="smcap">Lady Agatha</span> <i>and</i> <span
class="smcap">Mr. Hopper</span> <i>pass into ball-room</i>.]</p>
<p>[<i>Enter</i> <span class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span>.]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span>. Margaret, I
want to speak to you.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. In a
moment. [<i>The music drops</i>.]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Parker</span>. Lord Augustus
Lorton.</p>
<p>[<i>Enter</i> <span class="smcap">Lord Augustus</span>.]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Augustus</span>. Good evening,
Lady Windermere.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Duchess of Berwick</span>. Sir
James, will you take me into the ball-room? Augustus has
been dining with us to-night. I really have had quite
enough of dear Augustus for the moment.</p>
<p>[<span class="smcap">Sir James Royston</span> <i>gives the</i>
<span class="smcap">Duchess</span> <i>his arm and escorts her
into the ball-room</i>.]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Parker</span>. Mr. and Mrs. Arthur
Bowden. Lord and Lady Paisley. Lord Darlington.</p>
<p>[<i>These people enter as announced</i>.]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Augustus</span>. [<i>Coming up
to</i> <span class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span>.] Want to
speak to you particularly, dear boy. I’m worn to a
shadow. Know I don’t look it. None of us men do
look what we really are. Demmed good thing, too. What
I want to know is this. Who is she? Where does she
come from? Why hasn’t she got any demmed
relations? Demmed nuisance, relations! But they make
one so demmed respectable.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span>. You are
talking of Mrs. Erlynne, I suppose? I only met her six
months ago. Till then, I never knew of her existence.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Augustus</span>. You have seen
a good deal of her since then.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span>.
[<i>Coldly</i>.] Yes, I have seen a good deal of her since
then. I have just seen her.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Augustus</span>. Egad! the
women are very down on her. I have been dining with
Arabella this evening! By Jove! you should have heard what
she said about Mrs. Erlynne. She didn’t leave a rag
on her. . . . [<i>Aside</i>.] Berwick and I told her that
didn’t matter much, as the lady in question must have an
extremely fine figure. You should have seen
Arabella’s expression! . . . But, look here, dear
boy. I don’t know what to do about Mrs.
Erlynne. Egad! I might be married to her; she treats
me with such demmed indifference. She’s deuced
clever, too! She explains everything. Egad! she
explains you. She has got any amount of explanations for
you—and all of them different.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span>. No
explanations are necessary about my friendship with Mrs.
Erlynne.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Augustus</span>. Hem!
Well, look here, dear old fellow. Do you think she will
ever get into this demmed thing called Society? Would you
introduce her to your wife? No use beating about the
confounded bush. Would you do that?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span>. Mrs. Erlynne
is coming here to-night.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Augustus</span>. Your wife has
sent her a card?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span>. Mrs. Erlynne
has received a card.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Augustus</span>. Then
she’s all right, dear boy. But why didn’t you
tell me that before? It would have saved me a heap of worry
and demmed misunderstandings!</p>
<p>[<span class="smcap">Lady Agatha</span> <i>and</i> <span
class="smcap">Mr. Hopper</span> <i>cross and exit on terrace
L.U.E.</i>]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Parker</span>. Mr. Cecil Graham!</p>
<p>[<i>Enter</i> <span class="smcap">Mr. Cecil
Graham</span>.]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Cecil Graham</span>. [<i>Bows to</i>
<span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>, <i>passes over and
shakes hands with</i> <span class="smcap">Lord
Windermere</span>.] Good evening, Arthur. Why
don’t you ask me how I am? I like people to ask me
how I am. It shows a wide-spread interest in my
health. Now, to-night I am not at all well. Been
dining with my people. Wonder why it is one’s people
are always so tedious? My father would talk morality after
dinner. I told him he was old enough to know better.
But my experience is that as soon as people are old enough to
know better, they don’t know anything at all. Hallo,
Tuppy! Hear you’re going to be married again; thought
you were tired of that game.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Augustus</span>. You’re
excessively trivial, my dear boy, excessively trivial!</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Cecil Graham</span>. By the way,
Tuppy, which is it? Have you been twice married and once
divorced, or twice divorced and once married? I say
you’ve been twice divorced and once married. It seems
so much more probable.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Augustus</span>. I have a very
bad memory. I really don’t remember which.
[<i>Moves away R.</i>]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Plymdale</span>. Lord
Windermere, I’ve something most particular to ask you.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span>. I am
afraid—if you will excuse me—I must join my wife.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Plymdale</span>. Oh, you
mustn’t dream of such a thing. It’s most
dangerous nowadays for a husband to pay any attention to his wife
in public. It always makes people think that he beats her
when they’re alone. The world has grown so suspicious
of anything that looks like a happy married life. But
I’ll tell you what it is at supper. [<i>Moves towards
door of ball-room</i>.]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span>.
[<i>C.</i>] Margaret! I <i>must</i> speak to you.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. Will you
hold my fan for me, Lord Darlington? Thanks.
[<i>Comes down to him</i>.]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span>. [<i>Crossing
to her</i>.] Margaret, what you said before dinner was, of
course, impossible?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. That woman
is not coming here to-night!</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span>.
[<i>R.C.</i>] Mrs. Erlynne is coming here, and if you in
any way annoy or wound her, you will bring shame and sorrow on us
both. Remember that! Ah, Margaret! only trust
me! A wife should trust her husband!</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>.
[<i>C.</i>] London is full of women who trust their
husbands. One can always recognise them. They look so
thoroughly unhappy. I am not going to be one of them.
[<i>Moves up</i>.] Lord Darlington, will you give me back
my fan, please? Thanks. . . . A useful thing a fan,
isn’t it? . . . I want a friend to-night, Lord Darlington:
I didn’t know I would want one so soon.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Darlington</span>. Lady
Windermere! I knew the time would come some day; but why
to-night?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span>. I
<i>will</i> tell her. I must. It would be terrible if
there were any scene. Margaret . . .</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Parker</span>. Mrs. Erlynne!</p>
<p>[<span class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span>
<i>starts</i>. <span class="smcap">Mrs. Erlynne</span>
<i>enters</i>, <i>very beautifully dressed and very
dignified</i>. <span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>
<i>clutches at her fan</i>, <i>then lets it drop on the
door</i>. <i>She bows coldly to</i> <span
class="smcap">Mrs. Erlynne</span>, <i>who bows to her sweetly in
turn</i>, <i>and sails into the room</i>.]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Darlington</span>. You have
dropped your fan, Lady Windermere. [<i>Picks it up and
hands it to her</i>.]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Erlynne</span>.
[<i>C.</i>] How do you do, again, Lord Windermere?
How charming your sweet wife looks! Quite a picture!</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span>. [<i>In a low
voice</i>.] It was terribly rash of you to come!</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Erlynne</span>.
[<i>Smiling</i>.] The wisest thing I ever did in my
life. And, by the way, you must pay me a good deal of
attention this evening. I am afraid of the women. You
must introduce me to some of them. The men I can always
manage. How do you do, Lord Augustus? You have quite
neglected me lately. I have not seen you since
yesterday. I am afraid you’re faithless. Every
one told me so.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Augustus</span>.
[<i>R.</i>] Now really, Mrs. Erlynne, allow me to
explain.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Erlynne</span>.
[<i>R.C.</i>] No, dear Lord Augustus, you can’t
explain anything. It is your chief charm.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Augustus</span>. Ah! if you
find charms in me, Mrs. Erlynne—</p>
<p>[<i>They converse together</i>. <span class="smcap">Lord
Windermere</span> <i>moves uneasily about the room watching</i>
<span class="smcap">Mrs. Erlynne</span>.]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Darlington</span>. [<i>To</i>
<span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>.] How pale you
are!</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. Cowards are
always pale!</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Darlington</span>. You look
faint. Come out on the terrace.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. Yes.
[<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Parker</span>.] Parker, send
my cloak out.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Erlynne</span>. [<i>Crossing to
her</i>.] Lady Windermere, how beautifully your terrace is
illuminated. Reminds me of Prince Doria’s at
Rome.</p>
<p>[<span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span> <i>bows
coldly</i>, <i>and goes off with</i> <span class="smcap">Lord
Darlington</span>.]</p>
<p>Oh, how do you do, Mr. Graham? Isn’t that your
aunt, Lady Jedburgh? I should so much like to know her.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Cecil Graham</span>. [<i>After a
moment’s hesitation and embarrassment</i>.] Oh,
certainly, if you wish it. Aunt Caroline, allow me to
introduce Mrs. Erlynne.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Erlynne</span>. So pleased to
meet you, Lady Jedburgh. [<i>Sits beside her on the
sofa</i>.] Your nephew and I are great friends. I am
so much interested in his political career. I think
he’s sure to be a wonderful success. He thinks like a
Tory, and talks like a Radical, and that’s so important
nowadays. He’s such a brilliant talker, too.
But we all know from whom he inherits that. Lord Allandale
was saying to me only yesterday, in the Park, that Mr. Graham
talks almost as well as his aunt.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Jedburgh</span>.
[<i>R.</i>] Most kind of you to say these charming things
to me! [<span class="smcap">Mrs. Erlynne</span>
<i>smiles</i>, <i>and continues conversation</i>.]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Dumby</span>. [<i>To</i> <span
class="smcap">Cecil Graham</span>.] Did you introduce Mrs.
Erlynne to Lady Jedburgh?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Cecil Graham</span>. Had to, my dear
fellow. Couldn’t help it! That woman can make
one do anything she wants. How, I don’t know.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Dumby</span>. Hope to goodness she
won’t speak to me! [<i>Saunters towards</i> <span
class="smcap">Lady Plymdale</span>.]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Erlynne</span>.
[<i>C.</i> <i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Lady
Jedburgh</span>.] On Thursday? With great
pleasure. [<i>Rises</i>, <i>and speaks to</i> <span
class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span>, <i>laughing</i>.]
What a bore it is to have to be civil to these old
dowagers! But they always insist on it!</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Plymdale</span>. [<i>To</i>
<span class="smcap">Mr. Dumby</span>.] Who is that
well-dressed woman talking to Windermere?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Dumby</span>. Haven’t got the
slightest idea! Looks like an <i>édition de luxe</i>
of a wicked French novel, meant specially for the English
market.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Erlynne</span>. So that is poor
Dumby with Lady Plymdale? I hear she is frightfully jealous
of him. He doesn’t seem anxious to speak to me
to-night. I suppose he is afraid of her. Those
straw-coloured women have dreadful tempers. Do you know, I
think I’ll dance with you first, Windermere. [<span
class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span> <i>bites his lip and
frowns</i>.] It will make Lord Augustus so jealous!
Lord Augustus! [<span class="smcap">Lord Augustus</span>
<i>comes down</i>.] Lord Windermere insists on my dancing
with him first, and, as it’s his own house, I can’t
well refuse. You know I would much sooner dance with
you.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Augustus</span>. [<i>With a low
bow</i>.] I wish I could think so, Mrs. Erlynne.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Erlynne</span>. You know it far
too well. I can fancy a person dancing through life with
you and finding it charming.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Augustus</span>. [<i>Placing
his hand on his white waistcoat</i>.] Oh, thank you, thank
you. You are the most adorable of all ladies!</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Erlynne</span>. What a nice
speech! So simple and so sincere! Just the sort of
speech I like. Well, you shall hold my bouquet.
[<i>Goes towards ball-room on</i> <span class="smcap">Lord
Windermere’s</span> <i>arm</i>.] Ah, Mr. Dumby, how
are you? I am so sorry I have been out the last three times
you have called. Come and lunch on Friday.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Dumby</span>. [<i>With perfect
nonchalance</i>.] Delighted!</p>
<p>[<span class="smcap">Lady Plymdale</span> <i>glares with
indignation at</i> <span class="smcap">Mr. Dumby</span>.
<span class="smcap">Lord Augustus</span> <i>follows</i> <span
class="smcap">Mrs. Erlynne</span> <i>and</i> <span
class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span> <i>into the ball-room
holding bouquet</i>.]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Plymdale</span>. [<i>To</i>
<span class="smcap">Mr. Dumby</span>.] What an absolute
brute you are! I never can believe a word you say!
Why did you tell me you didn’t know her? What do you
mean by calling on her three times running? You are not to
go to lunch there; of course you understand that?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Dumby</span>. My dear Laura, I
wouldn’t dream of going!</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Plymdale</span>. You
haven’t told me her name yet! Who is she?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Dumby</span>. [<i>Coughs slightly
and smooths his hair</i>.] She’s a Mrs. Erlynne.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Plymdale</span>. That
woman!</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Dumby</span>. Yes; that is what
every one calls her.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Plymdale</span>. How very
interesting! How intensely interesting! I really must
have a good stare at her. [<i>Goes to door of ball-room and
looks in</i>.] I have heard the most shocking things about
her. They say she is ruining poor Windermere. And
Lady Windermere, who goes in for being so proper, invites
her! How extremely amusing! It takes a thoroughly
good woman to do a thoroughly stupid thing. You are to
lunch there on Friday!</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Dumby</span>. Why?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Plymdale</span>. Because I want
you to take my husband with you. He has been so attentive
lately, that he has become a perfect nuisance. Now, this
woman is just the thing for him. He’ll dance
attendance upon her as long as she lets him, and won’t
bother me. I assure you, women of that kind are most
useful. They form the basis of other people’s
marriages.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Dumby</span>. What a mystery you
are!</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Plymdale</span>. [<i>Looking at
him</i>.] I wish <i>you</i> were!</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Dumby</span>. I am—to
myself. I am the only person in the world I should like to
know thoroughly; but I don’t see any chance of it just at
present.</p>
<p>[<i>They pass into the ball-room</i>, <i>and</i> <span
class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span> <i>and</i> <span
class="smcap">Lord Darlington</span> <i>enter from the
terrace</i>.]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. Yes.
Her coming here is monstrous, unbearable. I know now what
you meant to-day at tea-time. Why didn’t you tell me
right out? You should have!</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Darlington</span>. I
couldn’t! A man can’t tell these things about
another man! But if I had known he was going to make you
ask her here to-night, I think I would have told you. That
insult, at any rate, you would have been spared.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. I did not
ask her. He insisted on her coming—against my
entreaties—against my commands. Oh! the house is
tainted for me! I feel that every woman here sneers at me
as she dances by with my husband. What have I done to
deserve this? I gave him all my life. He took
it—used it—spoiled it! I am degraded in my own
eyes; and I lack courage—I am a coward! [<i>Sits down
on sofa</i>.]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Darlington</span>. If I know
you at all, I know that you can’t live with a man who
treats you like this! What sort of life would you have with
him? You would feel that he was lying to you every moment
of the day. You would feel that the look in his eyes was
false, his voice false, his touch false, his passion false.
He would come to you when he was weary of others; you would have
to comfort him. He would come to you when he was devoted to
others; you would have to charm him. You would have to be
to him the mask of his real life, the cloak to hide his
secret.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. You are
right—you are terribly right. But where am I to
turn? You said you would be my friend, Lord
Darlington.—Tell me, what am I to do? Be my friend
now.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Darlington</span>. Between men
and women there is no friendship possible. There is
passion, enmity, worship, love, but no friendship. I love
you—</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. No,
no! [<i>Rises</i>.]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Darlington</span>. Yes, I love
you! You are more to me than anything in the whole
world. What does your husband give you?
Nothing. Whatever is in him he gives to this wretched
woman, whom he has thrust into your society, into your home, to
shame you before every one. I offer you my life—</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. Lord
Darlington!</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Darlington</span>. My
life—my whole life. Take it, and do with it what you
will. . . . I love you—love you as I have never loved any
living thing. From the moment I met you I loved you, loved
you blindly, adoringly, madly! You did not know it
then—you know it now! Leave this house
to-night. I won’t tell you that the world matters
nothing, or the world’s voice, or the voice of
society. They matter a great deal. They matter far
too much. But there are moments when one has to choose
between living one’s own life, fully, entirely,
completely—or dragging out some false, shallow, degrading
existence that the world in its hypocrisy demands. You have
that moment now. Choose! Oh, my love, choose.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. [<i>Moving
slowly away from him</i>, <i>and looking at him with startled
eyes</i>.] I have not the courage.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Darlington</span>.
[<i>Following her</i>.] Yes; you have the courage.
There may be six months of pain, of disgrace even, but when you
no longer bear his name, when you bear mine, all will be
well. Margaret, my love, my wife that shall be some
day—yes, my wife! You know it! What are you
now? This woman has the place that belongs by right to
you. Oh! go—go out of this house, with head erect,
with a smile upon your lips, with courage in your eyes. All
London will know why you did it; and who will blame you? No
one. If they do, what matter? Wrong? What is
wrong? It’s wrong for a man to abandon his wife for a
shameless woman. It is wrong for a wife to remain with a
man who so dishonours her. You said once you would make no
compromise with things. Make none now. Be
brave! Be yourself!</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. I am afraid
of being myself. Let me think! Let me wait! My
husband may return to me. [<i>Sits down on sofa</i>.]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Darlington</span>. And you
would take him back! You are not what I thought you
were. You are just the same as every other woman. You
would stand anything rather than face the censure of a world,
whose praise you would despise. In a week you will be
driving with this woman in the Park. She will be your
constant guest—your dearest friend. You would endure
anything rather than break with one blow this monstrous
tie. You are right. You have no courage; none!</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. Ah, give me
time to think. I cannot answer you now. [<i>Passes
her hand nervously over her brow</i>.]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Darlington</span>. It must be
now or not at all.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. [<i>Rising
from the sofa</i>.] Then, not at all! [<i>A
pause</i>.]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Darlington</span>. You break my
heart!</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. Mine is
already broken. [<i>A pause</i>.]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Darlington</span>. To-morrow I
leave England. This is the last time I shall ever look on
you. You will never see me again. For one moment our
lives met—our souls touched. They must never meet or
touch again. Good-bye, Margaret. [<i>Exit</i>.]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. How alone I
am in life! How terribly alone!</p>
<p>[<i>The music stops</i>. <i>Enter the</i> <span
class="smcap">Duchess of Berwick</span> <i>and</i> <span
class="smcap">Lord Paisley</span> <i>laughing and
talking</i>. <i>Other guests come on from
ball-room</i>.]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Duchess of Berwick</span>. Dear
Margaret, I’ve just been having such a delightful chat with
Mrs. Erlynne. I am so sorry for what I said to you this
afternoon about her. Of course, she must be all right if
<i>you</i> invite her. A most attractive woman, and has
such sensible views on life. Told me she entirely
disapproved of people marrying more than once, so I feel quite
safe about poor Augustus. Can’t imagine why people
speak against her. It’s those horrid nieces of
mine—the Saville girls—they’re always talking
scandal. Still, I should go to Homburg, dear, I really
should. She is just a little too attractive. But
where is Agatha? Oh, there she is: [<span
class="smcap">Lady Agatha</span> <i>and</i> <span
class="smcap">Mr. Hopper</span> <i>enter from terrace
L.U.E.</i>] Mr. Hopper, I am very, very angry with
you. You have taken Agatha out on the terrace, and she is
so delicate.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Hopper</span>. Awfully sorry,
Duchess. We went out for a moment and then got chatting
together.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Duchess of Berwick</span>.
[<i>C.</i>] Ah, about dear Australia, I suppose?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Hopper</span>. Yes!</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Duchess of Berwick</span>. Agatha,
darling! [<i>Beckons her over</i>.]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Agatha</span>. Yes, mamma!</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Duchess of Berwick</span>.
[<i>Aside</i>.] Did Mr. Hopper definitely—</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Agatha</span>. Yes, mamma.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Duchess of Berwick</span>. And what
answer did you give him, dear child?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Agatha</span>. Yes, mamma.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Duchess of Berwick</span>.
[<i>Affectionately</i>.] My dear one! You always say
the right thing. Mr. Hopper! James! Agatha has
told me everything. How cleverly you have both kept your
secret.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Hopper</span>. You don’t mind
my taking Agatha off to Australia, then, Duchess?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Duchess of Berwick</span>.
[<i>Indignantly</i>.] To Australia? Oh, don’t
mention that dreadful vulgar place.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Hopper</span>. But she said
she’d like to come with me.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Duchess of Berwick</span>.
[<i>Severely</i>.] Did you say that, Agatha?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Agatha</span>. Yes, mamma.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Duchess of Berwick</span>. Agatha,
you say the most silly things possible. I think on the
whole that Grosvenor Square would be a more healthy place to
reside in. There are lots of vulgar people live in
Grosvenor Square, but at any rate there are no horrid kangaroos
crawling about. But we’ll talk about that
to-morrow. James, you can take Agatha down.
You’ll come to lunch, of course, James. At half-past
one, instead of two. The Duke will wish to say a few words
to you, I am sure.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Hopper</span>. I should like to have
a chat with the Duke, Duchess. He has not said a single
word to me yet.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Duchess of Berwick</span>. I think
you’ll find he will have a great deal to say to you
to-morrow. [<i>Exit</i> <span class="smcap">Lady
Agatha</span> <i>with</i> <span class="smcap">Mr.
Hopper</span>.] And now good-night, Margaret.
I’m afraid it’s the old, old story, dear.
Love—well, not love at first sight, but love at the end of
the season, which is so much more satisfactory.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. Good-night,
Duchess.</p>
<p>[<i>Exit the</i> <span class="smcap">Duchess of Berwick</span>
<i>on</i> <span class="smcap">Lord Paisley’s</span>
<i>arm</i>.]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Plymdale</span>. My dear
Margaret, what a handsome woman your husband has been dancing
with! I should be quite jealous if I were you! Is she
a great friend of yours?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. No!</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Plymdale</span>. Really?
Good-night, dear. [<i>Looks at</i> <span class="smcap">Mr.
Dumby</span> <i>and exit</i>.]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Dumby</span>. Awful manners young
Hopper has!</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Cecil Graham</span>. Ah!
Hopper is one of Nature’s gentlemen, the worst type of
gentleman I know.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Dumby</span>. Sensible woman, Lady
Windermere. Lots of wives would have objected to Mrs.
Erlynne coming. But Lady Windermere has that uncommon thing
called common sense.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Cecil Graham</span>. And Windermere
knows that nothing looks so like innocence as an
indiscretion.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Dumby</span>. Yes; dear Windermere
is becoming almost modern. Never thought he would.
[<i>Bows to</i> <span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span> <i>and
exit</i>.]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Jedburgh</span>. Good night,
Lady Windermere. What a fascinating woman Mrs. Erlynne
is! She is coming to lunch on Thursday, won’t you
come too? I expect the Bishop and dear Lady Merton.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. I am afraid
I am engaged, Lady Jedburgh.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Jedburgh</span>. So
sorry. Come, dear. [<i>Exeunt</i> <span
class="smcap">Lady Jedburgh</span> <i>and</i> <span
class="smcap">Miss Graham</span>.]</p>
<p>[<i>Enter</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Erlynne</span>
<i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span>.]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Erlynne</span>. Charming ball
it has been! Quite reminds me of old days. [<i>Sits
on sofa</i>.] And I see that there are just as many fools
in society as there used to be. So pleased to find that
nothing has altered! Except Margaret. She’s
grown quite pretty. The last time I saw her—twenty
years ago, she was a fright in flannel. Positive fright, I
assure you. The dear Duchess! and that sweet Lady
Agatha! Just the type of girl I like! Well, really,
Windermere, if I am to be the Duchess’s
sister-in-law—</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span>. [<i>Sitting
L. of her</i>.] But are you—?</p>
<p>[<i>Exit</i> <span class="smcap">Mr. Cecil Graham</span>
<i>with rest of guests</i>. <span class="smcap">Lady
Windermere</span> <i>watches</i>, <i>with a look of scorn and
pain</i>, <span class="smcap">Mrs. Erlynne</span> <i>and her
husband</i>. <i>They are unconscious of her
presence</i>.]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Erlynne</span>. Oh, yes!
He’s to call to-morrow at twelve o’clock! He
wanted to propose to-night. In fact he did. He kept
on proposing. Poor Augustus, you know how he repeats
himself. Such a bad habit! But I told him I
wouldn’t give him an answer till to-morrow. Of course
I am going to take him. And I dare say I’ll make him
an admirable wife, as wives go. And there is a great deal
of good in Lord Augustus. Fortunately it is all on the
surface. Just where good qualities should be. Of
course you must help me in this matter.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span>. I am not
called on to encourage Lord Augustus, I suppose?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Erlynne</span>. Oh, no! I
do the encouraging. But you will make me a handsome
settlement, Windermere, won’t you?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span>.
[<i>Frowning</i>.] Is that what you want to talk to me
about to-night?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Erlynne</span>. Yes.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span>. [<i>With a
gesture of impatience</i>.] I will not talk of it here.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Erlynne</span>.
[<i>Laughing</i>.] Then we will talk of it on the
terrace. Even business should have a picturesque
background. Should it not, Windermere? With a proper
background women can do anything.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span>. Won’t
to-morrow do as well?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Erlynne</span>. No; you see,
to-morrow I am going to accept him. And I think it would be
a good thing if I was able to tell him that I had—well,
what shall I say?—£2000 a year left to me by a third
cousin—or a second husband—or some distant relative
of that kind. It would be an additional attraction,
wouldn’t it? You have a delightful opportunity now of
paying me a compliment, Windermere. But you are not very
clever at paying compliments. I am afraid Margaret
doesn’t encourage you in that excellent habit.
It’s a great mistake on her part. When men give up
saying what is charming, they give up thinking what is
charming. But seriously, what do you say to
£2000? £2500, I think. In modern life
margin is everything. Windermere, don’t you think the
world an intensely amusing place? I do!</p>
<p>[<i>Exit on terrace with</i> <span class="smcap">Lord
Windermere</span>. Music strikes up in ball-room.]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. To stay in
this house any longer is impossible. To-night a man who
loves me offered me his whole life. I refused it. It
was foolish of me. I will offer him mine now. I will
give him mine. I will go to him! [<i>Puts on cloak
and goes to the door</i>, <i>then turns back</i>. <i>Sits
down at table and writes a letter</i>, <i>puts it into an
envelope</i>, <i>and leaves it on table</i>.] Arthur has
never understood me. When he reads this, he will. He
may do as he chooses now with his life. I have done with
mine as I think best, as I think right. It is he who has
broken the bond of marriage—not I. I only break its
bondage.</p>
<p style="text-align: right">[<i>Exit</i>.]</p>
<p>[<span class="smcap"><i>Parker</i></span><i> enters L. and
crosses towards the ball-room R.</i> <i>Enter</i> <span
class="smcap">Mrs. Erlynne</span>.]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Erlynne</span>. Is Lady
Windermere in the ball-room?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Parker</span>. Her ladyship has just
gone out.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Erlynne</span>. Gone out?
She’s not on the terrace?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Parker</span>. No, madam. Her
ladyship has just gone out of the house.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Erlynne</span>. [<i>Starts</i>,
<i>and looks at the servant with a puzzled expression in her
face</i>.] Out of the house?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Parker</span>. Yes, madam—her
ladyship told me she had left a letter for his lordship on the
table.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Erlynne</span>. A letter for
Lord Windermere?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Parker</span>. Yes, madam.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Erlynne</span>. Thank you.</p>
<p>[<i>Exit</i> <span class="smcap">Parker</span>. <i>The
music in the ball-room stops</i>.] Gone out of her
house! A letter addressed to her husband! [<i>Goes
over to bureau and looks at letter</i>. <i>Takes it up and
lays it down again with a shudder of fear</i>.] No,
no! It would be impossible! Life doesn’t repeat
its tragedies like that! Oh, why does this horrible fancy
come across me? Why do I remember now the one moment of my
life I most wish to forget? Does life repeat its
tragedies? [<i>Tears letter open and reads it</i>, <i>then
sinks down into a chair with a gesture of anguish</i>.] Oh,
how terrible! The same words that twenty years ago I wrote
to her father! and how bitterly I have been punished for
it! No; my punishment, my real punishment is to-night, is
now! [<i>Still seated R.</i>]</p>
<p>[<i>Enter</i> <span class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span>
<i>L.U.E.</i>]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span>. Have you
said good-night to my wife? [<i>Comes C.</i>]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Erlynne</span>. [<i>Crushing
letter in her hand</i>.] Yes.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span>. Where is
she?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Erlynne</span>. She is very
tired. She has gone to bed. She said she had a
headache.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span>. I must go to
her. You’ll excuse me?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Erlynne</span>. [<i>Rising
hurriedly</i>.] Oh, no! It’s nothing
serious. She’s only very tired, that is all.
Besides, there are people still in the supper-room. She
wants you to make her apologies to them. She said she
didn’t wish to be disturbed. [<i>Drops
letter</i>.] She asked me to tell you!</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span>. [<i>Picks up
letter</i>.] You have dropped something.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Erlynne</span>. Oh yes, thank
you, that is mine. [<i>Puts out her hand to take
it</i>.]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span>. [<i>Still
looking at letter</i>.] But it’s my wife’s
handwriting, isn’t it?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Erlynne</span>. [<i>Takes the
letter quickly</i>.] Yes, it’s—an
address. Will you ask them to call my carriage, please?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span>.
Certainly.</p>
<p style="text-align: right">[<i>Goes L. and Exit</i>.]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Erlynne</span>. Thanks!
What can I do? What can I do? I feel a passion
awakening within me that I never felt before. What can it
mean? The daughter must not be like the mother—that
would be terrible. How can I save her? How can I save
my child? A moment may ruin a life. Who knows that
better than I? Windermere must be got out of the house;
that is absolutely necessary. [<i>Goes L.</i>] But
how shall I do it? It must be done somehow. Ah!</p>
<p>[<i>Enter</i> <span class="smcap">Lord Augustus</span>
<i>R.U.E. carrying bouquet</i>.]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Augustus</span>. Dear lady, I
am in such suspense! May I not have an answer to my
request?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Erlynne</span>. Lord Augustus,
listen to me. You are to take Lord Windermere down to your
club at once, and keep him there as long as possible. You
understand?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Augustus</span>. But you said
you wished me to keep early hours!</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Erlynne</span>.
[<i>Nervously</i>.] Do what I tell you. Do what I
tell you.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Augustus</span>. And my
reward?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Erlynne</span>. Your
reward? Your reward? Oh! ask me that to-morrow.
But don’t let Windermere out of your sight to-night.
If you do I will never forgive you. I will never speak to
you again. I’ll have nothing to do with you.
Remember you are to keep Windermere at your club, and don’t
let him come back to-night.</p>
<p style="text-align: right">[<i>Exit L.</i>]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Augustus</span>. Well, really,
I might be her husband already. Positively I might.
[<i>Follows her in a bewildered manner</i>.]</p>
<div class="gapspace"> </div>
<p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">Act
Drop</span>.</p>
<h2>THIRD ACT</h2>
<p style="text-align: center">SCENE</p>
<p><i>Lord Darlington’s Rooms</i>. <i>A large sofa is
in front of fireplace R.</i> <i>At the back of the stage a
curtain is drawn across the window</i>. <i>Doors L. and
R.</i> <i>Table R. with writing materials. Table C.
with syphons, glasses, and Tantalus frame</i>. <i>Table L.
with cigar and cigarette box. Lamps lit</i>.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. [<i>Standing
by the fireplace</i>.] Why doesn’t he come?
This waiting is horrible. He should be here. Why is
he not here, to wake by passionate words some fire within
me? I am cold—cold as a loveless thing. Arthur
must have read my letter by this time. If he cared for me,
he would have come after me, would have taken me back by
force. But he doesn’t care. He’s
entrammelled by this woman—fascinated by
her—dominated by her. If a woman wants to hold a man,
she has merely to appeal to what is worst in him. We make
gods of men and they leave us. Others make brutes of them
and they fawn and are faithful. How hideous life is! . . .
Oh! it was mad of me to come here, horribly mad. And yet,
which is the worst, I wonder, to be at the mercy of a man who
loves one, or the wife of a man who in one’s own house
dishonours one? What woman knows? What woman in the
whole world? But will he love me always, this man to whom I
am giving my life? What do I bring him? Lips that
have lost the note of joy, eyes that are blinded by tears, chill
hands and icy heart. I bring him nothing. I must go
back—no; I can’t go back, my letter has put me in
their power—Arthur would not take me back! That fatal
letter! No! Lord Darlington leaves England
to-morrow. I will go with him—I have no choice.
[<i>Sits down for a few moments</i>. <i>Then starts up and
puts on her cloak</i>.] No, no! I will go back, let
Arthur do with me what he pleases. I can’t wait
here. It has been madness my coming. I must go at
once. As for Lord Darlington—Oh! here he is!
What shall I do? What can I say to him? Will he let
me go away at all? I have heard that men are brutal,
horrible . . . Oh! [<i>Hides her face in her
hands</i>.]</p>
<p>[<i>Enter</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Erlynne</span>
<i>L.</i>]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Erlynne</span>. Lady
Windermere! [<span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>
<i>starts and looks up</i>. <i>Then recoils in
contempt</i>.] Thank Heaven I am in time. You must go
back to your husband’s house immediately.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. Must?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Erlynne</span>.
[<i>Authoritatively</i>.] Yes, you must! There is not
a second to be lost. Lord Darlington may return at any
moment.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. Don’t
come near me!</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Erlynne</span>. Oh! You
are on the brink of ruin, you are on the brink of a hideous
precipice. You must leave this place at once, my carriage
is waiting at the corner of the street. You must come with
me and drive straight home.</p>
<p>[<span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span> <i>throws off her
cloak and flings it on the sofa</i>.]</p>
<p>What are you doing?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. Mrs.
Erlynne—if you had not come here, I would have gone
back. But now that I see you, I feel that nothing in the
whole world would induce me to live under the same roof as Lord
Windermere. You fill me with horror. There is
something about you that stirs the wildest—rage within
me. And I know why you are here. My husband sent you
to lure me back that I might serve as a blind to whatever
relations exist between you and him.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Erlynne</span>. Oh! You
don’t think that—you can’t.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. Go back to
my husband, Mrs. Erlynne. He belongs to you and not to
me. I suppose he is afraid of a scandal. Men are such
cowards. They outrage every law of the world, and are
afraid of the world’s tongue. But he had better
prepare himself. He shall have a scandal. He shall
have the worst scandal there has been in London for years.
He shall see his name in every vile paper, mine on every hideous
placard.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Erlynne</span>.
No—no—</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. Yes! he
shall. Had he come himself, I admit I would have gone back
to the life of degradation you and he had prepared for me—I
was going back—but to stay himself at home, and to send you
as his messenger—oh! it was infamous—infamous.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Erlynne</span>.
[<i>C.</i>] Lady Windermere, you wrong me
horribly—you wrong your husband horribly. He
doesn’t know you are here—he thinks you are safe in
your own house. He thinks you are asleep in your own
room. He never read the mad letter you wrote to him!</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>.
[<i>R.</i>] Never read it!</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Erlynne</span>. No—he
knows nothing about it.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. How simple
you think me! [<i>Going to her</i>.] You are lying to
me!</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Erlynne</span>. [<i>Restraining
herself</i>.] I am not. I am telling you the
truth.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. If my
husband didn’t read my letter, how is it that you are
here? Who told you I had left the house you were shameless
enough to enter? Who told you where I had gone to? My
husband told you, and sent you to decoy me back.
[<i>Crosses L.</i>]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Erlynne</span>.
[<i>R.C.</i>] Your husband has never seen the letter.
I—saw it, I opened it. I—read it.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. [<i>Turning
to her</i>.] You opened a letter of mine to my
husband? You wouldn’t dare!</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Erlynne</span>. Dare! Oh!
to save you from the abyss into which you are falling, there is
nothing in the world I would not dare, nothing in the whole
world. Here is the letter. Your husband has never
read it. He never shall read it. [<i>Going to
fireplace</i>.] It should never have been written.
[<i>Tears it and throws it into the fire</i>.]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. [<i>With
infinite contempt in her voice and look</i>.] How do I know
that that was my letter after all? You seem to think the
commonest device can take me in!</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Erlynne</span>. Oh! why do you
disbelieve everything I tell you? What object do you think
I have in coming here, except to save you from utter ruin, to
save you from the consequence of a hideous mistake? That
letter that is burnt now <i>was</i> your letter. I swear it
to you!</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>.
[<i>Slowly</i>.] You took good care to burn it before I had
examined it. I cannot trust you. You, whose whole
life is a lie, could you speak the truth about anything?
[<i>Sits down</i>.]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Erlynne</span>.
[<i>Hurriedly</i>.] Think as you like about me—say
what you choose against me, but go back, go back to the husband
you love.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>.
[<i>Sullenly</i>.] I do <i>not</i> love him!</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Erlynne</span>. You do, and you
know that he loves you.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. He does not
understand what love is. He understands it as little as you
do—but I see what you want. It would be a great
advantage for you to get me back. Dear Heaven! what a life
I would have then! Living at the mercy of a woman who has
neither mercy nor pity in her, a woman whom it is an infamy to
meet, a degradation to know, a vile woman, a woman who comes
between husband and wife!</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Erlynne</span>. [<i>With a
gesture of despair</i>.] Lady Windermere, Lady Windermere,
don’t say such terrible things. You don’t know
how terrible they are, how terrible and how unjust. Listen,
you must listen! Only go back to your husband, and I
promise you never to communicate with him again on any
pretext—never to see him—never to have anything to do
with his life or yours. The money that he gave me, he gave
me not through love, but through hatred, not in worship, but in
contempt. The hold I have over him—</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>.
[<i>Rising</i>.] Ah! you admit you have a hold!</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Erlynne</span>. Yes, and I will
tell you what it is. It is his love for you, Lady
Windermere.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. You expect
me to believe that?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Erlynne</span>. You must
believe it! It is true. It is his love for you that
has made him submit to—oh! call it what you like, tyranny,
threats, anything you choose. But it is his love for
you. His desire to spare you—shame, yes, shame and
disgrace.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. What do you
mean? You are insolent! What have I to do with
you?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Erlynne</span>.
[<i>Humbly</i>.] Nothing. I know it—but I tell
you that your husband loves you—that you may never meet
with such love again in your whole life—that such love you
will never meet—and that if you throw it away, the day may
come when you will starve for love and it will not be given to
you, beg for love and it will be denied you—Oh! Arthur
loves you!</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>.
Arthur? And you tell me there is nothing between you?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Erlynne</span>. Lady
Windermere, before Heaven your husband is guiltless of all
offence towards you! And I—I tell you that had it
ever occurred to me that such a monstrous suspicion would have
entered your mind, I would have died rather than have crossed
your life or his—oh! died, gladly died! [<i>Moves
away to sofa R.</i>]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. You talk as
if you had a heart. Women like you have no hearts.
Heart is not in you. You are bought and sold.
[<i>Sits L.C.</i>]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Erlynne</span>. [<i>Starts</i>,
<i>with a gesture of pain</i>. <i>Then restrains
herself</i>, <i>and comes over to where</i> <span
class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span> <i>is sitting</i>.
<i>As she speaks</i>, <i>she stretches out her hands towards
her</i>, <i>but does not dare to touch her</i>.] Believe
what you choose about me. I am not worth a moment’s
sorrow. But don’t spoil your beautiful young life on
my account! You don’t know what may be in store for
you, unless you leave this house at once. You don’t
know what it is to fall into the pit, to be despised, mocked,
abandoned, sneered at—to be an outcast! to find the door
shut against one, to have to creep in by hideous byways, afraid
every moment lest the mask should be stripped from one’s
face, and all the while to hear the laughter, the horrible
laughter of the world, a thing more tragic than all the tears the
world has ever shed. You don’t know what it is.
One pays for one’s sin, and then one pays again, and all
one’s life one pays. You must never know
that.—As for me, if suffering be an expiation, then at this
moment I have expiated all my faults, whatever they have been;
for to-night you have made a heart in one who had it not, made it
and broken it.—But let that pass. I may have wrecked
my own life, but I will not let you wreck yours.
You—why, you are a mere girl, you would be lost. You
haven’t got the kind of brains that enables a woman to get
back. You have neither the wit nor the courage. You
couldn’t stand dishonour! No! Go back, Lady
Windermere, to the husband who loves you, whom you love.
You have a child, Lady Windermere. Go back to that child
who even now, in pain or in joy, may be calling to you.
[<span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span> <i>rises</i>.]
God gave you that child. He will require from you that you
make his life fine, that you watch over him. What answer
will you make to God if his life is ruined through you?
Back to your house, Lady Windermere—your husband loves
you! He has never swerved for a moment from the love he
bears you. But even if he had a thousand loves, you must
stay with your child. If he was harsh to you, you must stay
with your child. If he ill-treated you, you must stay with
your child. If he abandoned you, your place is with your
child.</p>
<p>[<span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span> <i>bursts into
tears and buries her face in her hands</i>.]</p>
<p>[<i>Rushing to her</i>.] Lady Windermere!</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. [<i>Holding
out her hands to her</i>, <i>helplessly</i>, <i>as a child might
do</i>.] Take me home. Take me home.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Erlynne</span>. [<i>Is about to
embrace her</i>. <i>Then restrains herself</i>.
<i>There is a look of wonderful joy in her face</i>.]
Come! Where is your cloak? [<i>Getting it from
sofa</i>.] Here. Put it on. Come at once!</p>
<p>[<i>They go to the door</i>.]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. Stop!
Don’t you hear voices?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Erlynne</span>. No, no!
There was no one!</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. Yes, there
is! Listen! Oh! that is my husband’s
voice! He is coming in! Save me! Oh, it’s
some plot! You have sent for him.</p>
<p>[<i>Voices outside</i>.]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Erlynne</span>. Silence!
I’m here to save you, if I can. But I fear it is too
late! There! [<i>Points to the curtain across the
window</i>.] The first chance you have, slip out, if you
ever get a chance!</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. But you?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Erlynne</span>. Oh! never mind
me. I’ll face them.</p>
<p>[<span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span> <i>hides herself
behind the curtain</i>.]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Augustus</span>.
[<i>Outside</i>.] Nonsense, dear Windermere, you must not
leave me!</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Erlynne</span>. Lord
Augustus! Then it is I who am lost! [<i>Hesitates for
a moment</i>, then <i>looks round and sees door R.</i>, <i>and
exits through it</i>.]</p>
<p>[<i>Enter</i> <span class="smcap">Lord Darlington</span>,
<span class="smcap">Mr. Dumby</span>, <span class="smcap">Lord
Windermere</span>, <span class="smcap">Lord Augustus
Lorton</span>, <i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Mr. Cecil
Graham</span>.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Dumby</span>. What a nuisance their
turning us out of the club at this hour! It’s only
two o’clock. [<i>Sinks into a chair</i>.] The
lively part of the evening is only just beginning.
[<i>Yawns and closes his eyes</i>.]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span>. It is very
good of you, Lord Darlington, allowing Augustus to force our
company on you, but I’m afraid I can’t stay long.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Darlington</span>.
Really! I am so sorry! You’ll take a cigar,
won’t you?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span>.
Thanks! [<i>Sits down</i>.]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Augustus</span>. [<i>To</i>
<span class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span>.] My dear boy,
you must not dream of going. I have a great deal to talk to
you about, of demmed importance, too. [<i>Sits down with
him at L. table</i>.]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Cecil Graham</span>. Oh! We
all know what that is! Tuppy can’t talk about
anything but Mrs. Erlynne.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span>. Well, that
is no business of yours, is it, Cecil?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Cecil Graham</span>. None!
That is why it interests me. My own business always bores
me to death. I prefer other people’s.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Darlington</span>. Have
something to drink, you fellows. Cecil, you’ll have a
whisky and soda?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Cecil Graham</span>. Thanks.
[<i>Goes to table with</i> <span class="smcap">Lord
Darlington</span>.] Mrs. Erlynne looked very handsome
to-night, didn’t she?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Darlington</span>. I am not one
of her admirers.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Cecil Graham</span>. I usen’t
to be, but I am now. Why! she actually made me introduce
her to poor dear Aunt Caroline. I believe she is going to
lunch there.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Darlington</span>. [<i>In
Purple</i>.] No?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Cecil Graham</span>. She is,
really.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Darlington</span>. Excuse me,
you fellows. I’m going away to-morrow. And I
have to write a few letters. [<i>Goes to writing table and
sits down</i>.]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Dumby</span>. Clever woman, Mrs.
Erlynne.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Cecil Graham</span>. Hallo,
Dumby! I thought you were asleep.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Dumby</span>. I am, I usually
am!</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Augustus</span>. A very clever
woman. Knows perfectly well what a demmed fool I
am—knows it as well as I do myself.</p>
<p>[<span class="smcap">Cecil Graham</span> <i>comes towards him
laughing</i>.]</p>
<p>Ah, you may laugh, my boy, but it is a great thing to come
across a woman who thoroughly understands one.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Dumby</span>. It is an awfully
dangerous thing. They always end by marrying one.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Cecil Graham</span>. But I thought,
Tuppy, you were never going to see her again! Yes! you told
me so yesterday evening at the club. You said you’d
heard—</p>
<p>[<i>Whispering to him</i>.]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Augustus</span>. Oh,
she’s explained that.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Cecil Graham</span>. And the
Wiesbaden affair?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Augustus</span>. She’s
explained that too.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Dumby</span>. And her income,
Tuppy? Has she explained that?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Augustus</span>. [<i>In a very
serious voice</i>.] She’s going to explain that
to-morrow.</p>
<p>[<span class="smcap">Cecil Graham</span> <i>goes back to C.
table</i>.]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Dumby</span>. Awfully commercial,
women nowadays. Our grandmothers threw their caps over the
mills, of course, but, by Jove, their granddaughters only throw
their caps over mills that can raise the wind for them.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Augustus</span>. You want to
make her out a wicked woman. She is not!</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Cecil Graham</span>. Oh!
Wicked women bother one. Good women bore one. That is
the only difference between them.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Augustus</span>. [<i>Puffing a
cigar</i>.] Mrs. Erlynne has a future before her.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Dumby</span>. Mrs. Erlynne has a
past before her.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Augustus</span>. I prefer women
with a past. They’re always so demmed amusing to talk
to.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Cecil Graham</span>. Well,
you’ll have lots of topics of conversation with <i>her</i>,
Tuppy. [<i>Rising and going to him</i>.]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Augustus</span>. You’re
getting annoying, dear-boy; you’re getting demmed
annoying.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Cecil Graham</span>. [<i>Puts his
hands on his shoulders</i>.] Now, Tuppy, you’ve lost
your figure and you’ve lost your character.
Don’t lose your temper; you have only got one.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Augustus</span>. My dear boy,
if I wasn’t the most good-natured man in London—</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Cecil Graham</span>. We’d
treat you with more respect, wouldn’t we, Tuppy?
[<i>Strolls away</i>.]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Dumby</span>. The youth of the
present day are quite monstrous. They have absolutely no
respect for dyed hair. [<span class="smcap">Lord
Augustus</span> <i>looks round angrily</i>.]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Cecil Graham</span>. Mrs. Erlynne
has a very great respect for dear Tuppy.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Dumby</span>. Then Mrs. Erlynne sets
an admirable example to the rest of her sex. It is
perfectly brutal the way most women nowadays behave to men who
are not their husbands.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span>. Dumby, you
are ridiculous, and Cecil, you let your tongue run away with
you. You must leave Mrs. Erlynne alone. You
don’t really know anything about her, and you’re
always talking scandal against her.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Cecil Graham</span>. [<i>Coming
towards him L.C.</i>] My dear Arthur, I never talk
scandal. <i>I</i> only talk gossip.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span>. What is the
difference between scandal and gossip?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Cecil Graham</span>. Oh! gossip is
charming! History is merely gossip. But scandal is
gossip made tedious by morality. Now, I never
moralise. A man who moralises is usually a hypocrite, and a
woman who moralises is invariably plain. There is nothing
in the whole world so unbecoming to a woman as a Nonconformist
conscience. And most women know it, I’m glad to
say.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Augustus</span>. Just my
sentiments, dear boy, just my sentiments.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Cecil Graham</span>. Sorry to hear
it, Tuppy; whenever people agree with me, I always feel I must be
wrong.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Augustus</span>. My dear boy,
when I was your age—</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Cecil Graham</span>. But you never
were, Tuppy, and you never will be. [<i>Goes up
C.</i>] I say, Darlington, let us have some cards.
You’ll play, Arthur, won’t you?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span>. No, thanks,
Cecil.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Dumby</span>. [<i>With a
sigh</i>.] Good heavens! how marriage ruins a man!
It’s as demoralising as cigarettes, and far more
expensive.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Cecil Graham</span>. You’ll
play, of course, Tuppy?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Augustus</span>. [<i>Pouring
himself out a brandy and soda at table</i>.] Can’t,
dear boy. Promised Mrs. Erlynne never to play or drink
again.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Cecil Graham</span>. Now, my dear
Tuppy, don’t be led astray into the paths of virtue.
Reformed, you would be perfectly tedious. That is the worst
of women. They always want one to be good. And if we
are good, when they meet us, they don’t love us at
all. They like to find us quite irretrievably bad, and to
leave us quite unattractively good.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Darlington</span>. [<i>Rising
from R. table</i>, <i>where he has been writing
letters</i>.] They always do find us bad!</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Dumby</span>. I don’t think we
are bad. I think we are all good, except Tuppy.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Darlington</span>. No, we are
all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars.
[<i>Sits down at C. table</i>.]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Dumby</span>. We are all in the
gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars? Upon my
word, you are very romantic to-night, Darlington.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Cecil Graham</span>. Too
romantic! You must be in love. Who is the girl?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Darlington</span>. The woman I
love is not free, or thinks she isn’t. [<i>Glances
instinctively at</i> <span class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span>
<i>while he speaks</i>.]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Cecil Graham</span>. A married
woman, then! Well, there’s nothing in the world like
the devotion of a married woman. It’s a thing no
married man knows anything about.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Darlington</span>. Oh! she
doesn’t love me. She is a good woman. She is
the only good woman I have ever met in my life.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Cecil Graham</span>. The only good
woman you have ever met in your life?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Darlington</span>. Yes!</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Cecil Graham</span>. [<i>Lighting a
cigarette</i>.] Well, you are a lucky fellow! Why, I
have met hundreds of good women. I never seem to meet any
but good women. The world is perfectly packed with good
women. To know them is a middle-class education.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Darlington</span>. This woman
has purity and innocence. She has everything we men have
lost.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Cecil Graham</span>. My dear fellow,
what on earth should we men do going about with purity and
innocence? A carefully thought-out buttonhole is much more
effective.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Dumby</span>. She doesn’t
really love you then?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Darlington</span>. No, she does
not!</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Dumby</span>. I congratulate you, my
dear fellow. In this world there are only two
tragedies. One is not getting what one wants, and the other
is getting it. The last is much the worst; the last is a
real tragedy! But I am interested to hear she does not love
you. How long could you love a woman who didn’t love
you, Cecil?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Cecil Graham</span>. A woman who
didn’t love me? Oh, all my life!</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Dumby</span>. So could I. But
it’s so difficult to meet one.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Darlington</span>. How can you
be so conceited, <span class="smcap">Dumby</span>?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Dumby</span>. I didn’t say it
as a matter of conceit. I said it as a matter of
regret. I have been wildly, madly adored. I am sorry
I have. It has been an immense nuisance. I should
like to be allowed a little time to myself now and then.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Augustus</span>. [<i>Looking
round</i>.] Time to educate yourself, I suppose.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Dumby</span>. No, time to forget all
I have learned. That is much more important, dear
Tuppy. [<span class="smcap">Lord Augustus</span> <i>moves
uneasily in his chair</i>.]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Darlington</span>. What cynics
you fellows are!</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Cecil Graham</span>. What is a
cynic? [<i>Sitting on the back of the sofa</i>.]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Darlington</span>. A man who
knows the price of everything and the value of nothing.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Cecil Graham</span>. And a
sentimentalist, my dear Darlington, is a man who sees an absurd
value in everything, and doesn’t know the market price of
any single thing.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Darlington</span>. You always
amuse me, Cecil. You talk as if you were a man of
experience.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Cecil Graham</span>. I am.
[<i>Moves up to front off fireplace</i>.]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Darlington</span>. You are far
too young!</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Cecil Graham</span>. That is a great
error. Experience is a question of instinct about
life. I have got it. Tuppy hasn’t.
Experience is the name Tuppy gives to his mistakes. That is
all. [<span class="smcap">Lord Augustus</span> <i>looks
round indignantly</i>.]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Dumby</span>. Experience is the name
every one gives to their mistakes.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Cecil Graham</span>. [<i>Standing
with his back to the fireplace</i>.] One shouldn’t
commit any. [<i>Sees</i> <span class="smcap">Lady
Windermere’s</span> <i>fan on sofa</i>.]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Dumby</span>. Life would be very
dull without them.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Cecil Graham</span>. Of course you
are quite faithful to this woman you are in love with,
Darlington, to this good woman?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Darlington</span>. Cecil, if one
really loves a woman, all other women in the world become
absolutely meaningless to one. Love changes
one—<i>I</i> am changed.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Cecil Graham</span>. Dear me!
How very interesting! Tuppy, I want to talk to you.
[<span class="smcap">Lord Augustus</span> <i>takes no
notice</i>.]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Dumby</span>. It’s no use
talking to Tuppy. You might just as well talk to a brick
wall.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Cecil Graham</span>. But I like
talking to a brick wall—it’s the only thing in the
world that never contradicts me! Tuppy!</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Augustus</span>. Well, what is
it? What is it? [<i>Rising and going over to</i>
<span class="smcap">Cecil Graham</span>.]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Cecil Graham</span>. Come over
here. I want you particularly. [<i>Aside</i>.]
Darlington has been moralising and talking about the purity of
love, and that sort of thing, and he has got some woman in his
rooms all the time.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Augustus</span>. No, really!
really!</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Cecil Graham</span>. [<i>In a low
voice</i>.] Yes, here is her fan. [<i>Points to the
fan</i>.]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Augustus</span>.
[<i>Chuckling</i>.] By Jove! By Jove!</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span>. [<i>Up by
door</i>.] I am really off now, Lord Darlington. I am
sorry you are leaving England so soon. Pray call on us when
you come back! My wife and I will be charmed to see
you!</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Darlington</span>. [<i>Upstage
with</i> <span class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span>.] I am
afraid I shall be away for many years. Good-night!</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Cecil Graham</span>. Arthur!</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span>. What?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Cecil Graham</span>. I want to speak
to you for a moment. No, do come!</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span>. [<i>Putting
on his coat</i>.] I can’t—I’m off!</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Cecil Graham</span>. It is something
very particular. It will interest you enormously.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span>.
[<i>Smiling</i>.] It is some of your nonsense, Cecil.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Cecil Graham</span>. It
isn’t! It isn’t really.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Augustus</span>. [<i>Going to
him</i>.] My dear fellow, you mustn’t go yet. I
have a lot to talk to you about. And Cecil has something to
show you.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span>. [<i>Walking
over</i>.] Well, what is it?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Cecil Graham</span>. Darlington has
got a woman here in his rooms. Here is her fan.
Amusing, isn’t it? [<i>A pause</i>.]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span>. Good
God! [<i>Seizes the fan</i>—<span
class="smcap">Dumby</span> <i>rises</i>.]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Cecil Graham</span>. What is the
matter?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span>. Lord
Darlington!</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Darlington</span>. [<i>Turning
round</i>.] Yes!</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span>. What is my
wife’s fan doing here in your rooms? Hands off,
Cecil. Don’t touch me.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Darlington</span>. Your
wife’s fan?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span>. Yes, here it
is!</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Darlington</span>. [<i>Walking
towards him</i>.] I don’t know!</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span>. You must
know. I demand an explanation. Don’t hold me,
you fool. [<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Cecil
Graham</span>.]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Darlington</span>.
[<i>Aside</i>.] She is here after all!</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span>. Speak,
sir! Why is my wife’s fan here? Answer
me! By God! I’ll search your rooms, and if my
wife’s here, I’ll— [<i>Moves</i>.]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Darlington</span>. You shall
not search my rooms. You have no right to do so. I
forbid you!</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span>. You
scoundrel! I’ll not leave your room till I have
searched every corner of it! What moves behind that
curtain? [<i>Rushes towards the curtain C.</i>]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Erlynne</span>. [<i>Enters
behind R.</i>] Lord Windermere!</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span>. Mrs.
Erlynne!</p>
<p>[<i>Every one starts and turns round</i>. <span
class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span> <i>slips out from behind the
curtain and glides from the room L.</i>]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Erlynne</span>. I am afraid I
took your wife’s fan in mistake for my own, when I was
leaving your house to-night. I am so sorry. [<i>Takes
fan from him</i>. <span class="smcap">Lord
Windermere</span> <i>looks at her in contempt</i>. <span
class="smcap">Lord Darlington</span> <i>in mingled astonishment
and anger</i>. <span class="smcap">Lord Augustus</span>
<i>turns away</i>. <i>The other men smile at each
other</i>.]</p>
<p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">Act
Drop</span>.</p>
<h2>FOURTH ACT</h2>
<p style="text-align: center">SCENE—Same as in Act I.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. [<i>Lying on
sofa</i>.] How can I tell him? I can’t tell
him. It would kill me. I wonder what happened after I
escaped from that horrible room. Perhaps she told them the
true reason of her being there, and the real meaning of
that—fatal fan of mine. Oh, if he knows—how can
I look him in the face again? He would never forgive
me. [<i>Touches bell</i>.] How securely one thinks
one lives—out of reach of temptation, sin, folly. And
then suddenly—Oh! Life is terrible. It rules
us, we do not rule it.</p>
<p>[<i>Enter</i> <span class="smcap">Rosalie</span>
<i>R.</i>]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Rosalie</span>. Did your ladyship
ring for me?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. Yes.
Have you found out at what time Lord Windermere came in last
night?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Rosalie</span>. His lordship did not
come in till five o’clock.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. Five
o’clock? He knocked at my door this morning,
didn’t he?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Rosalie</span>. Yes, my
lady—at half-past nine. I told him your ladyship was
not awake yet.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. Did he say
anything?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Rosalie</span>. Something about your
ladyship’s fan. I didn’t quite catch what his
lordship said. Has the fan been lost, my lady? I
can’t find it, and Parker says it was not left in any of
the rooms. He has looked in all of them and on the terrace
as well.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. It
doesn’t matter. Tell Parker not to trouble.
That will do.</p>
<p style="text-align: right">[<i>Exit</i> <span
class="smcap">Rosalie</span>.]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>.
[<i>Rising</i>.] She is sure to tell him. I can fancy
a person doing a wonderful act of self-sacrifice, doing it
spontaneously, recklessly, nobly—and afterwards finding out
that it costs too much. Why should she hesitate between her
ruin and mine? . . . How strange! I would have publicly
disgraced her in my own house. She accepts public disgrace
in the house of another to save me. . . . There is a bitter irony
in things, a bitter irony in the way we talk of good and bad
women. . . . Oh, what a lesson! and what a pity that in life we
only get our lessons when they are of no use to us! For
even if she doesn’t tell, I must. Oh! the shame of
it, the shame of it. To tell it is to live through it all
again. Actions are the first tragedy in life, words are the
second. Words are perhaps the worst. Words are
merciless. . . . Oh! [<i>Starts as</i> <span
class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span> <i>enters</i>.]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span>. [<i>Kisses
her</i>.] Margaret—how pale you look!</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. I slept very
badly.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span>. [<i>Sitting
on sofa with her</i>.] I am so sorry. I came in
dreadfully late, and didn’t like to wake you. You are
crying, dear.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. Yes, I am
crying, for I have something to tell you, Arthur.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span>. My dear
child, you are not well. You’ve been doing too
much. Let us go away to the country. You’ll be
all right at Selby. The season is almost over. There
is no use staying on. Poor darling! We’ll go
away to-day, if you like. [<i>Rises</i>.] We can
easily catch the 3.40. I’ll send a wire to
Fannen. [<i>Crosses and sits down at table to write a
telegram</i>.]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. Yes; let us
go away to-day. No; I can’t go to-day, Arthur.
There is some one I must see before I leave town—some one
who has been kind to me.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span>. [<i>Rising
and leaning over sofa</i>.] Kind to you?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. Far more
than that. [<i>Rises and goes to him</i>.] I will
tell you, Arthur, but only love me, love me as you used to love
me.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span>. Used
to? You are not thinking of that wretched woman who came
here last night? [<i>Coming round and sitting R. of
her</i>.] You don’t still imagine—no, you
couldn’t.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. I
don’t. I know now I was wrong and foolish.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span>. It was very
good of you to receive her last night—but you are never to
see her again.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. Why do you
say that? [<i>A pause</i>.]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span>. [<i>Holding
her hand</i>.] Margaret, I thought Mrs. Erlynne was a woman
more sinned against than sinning, as the phrase goes. I
thought she wanted to be good, to get back into a place that she
had lost by a moment’s folly, to lead again a decent
life. I believed what she told me—I was mistaken in
her. She is bad—as bad as a woman can be.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. Arthur,
Arthur, don’t talk so bitterly about any woman. I
don’t think now that people can be divided into the good
and the bad as though they were two separate races or
creations. What are called good women may have terrible
things in them, mad moods of recklessness, assertion, jealousy,
sin. Bad women, as they are termed, may have in them
sorrow, repentance, pity, sacrifice. And I don’t
think Mrs. Erlynne a bad woman—I know she’s not.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span>. My dear
child, the woman’s impossible. No matter what harm
she tries to do us, you must never see her again. She is
inadmissible anywhere.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. But I want
to see her. I want her to come here.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span>. Never!</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. She came
here once as <i>your</i> guest. She must come now as
<i>mine</i>. That is but fair.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span>. She should
never have come here.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>.
[<i>Rising</i>.] It is too late, Arthur, to say that
now. [<i>Moves away</i>.]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span>.
[<i>Rising</i>.] Margaret, if you knew where Mrs. Erlynne
went last night, after she left this house, you would not sit in
the same room with her. It was absolutely shameless, the
whole thing.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. Arthur, I
can’t bear it any longer. I must tell you. Last
night—</p>
<p>[<i>Enter</i> <span class="smcap">Parker</span> <i>with a tray
on which lie</i> <span class="smcap">Lady
Windermere’s</span> <i>fan and a card</i>.]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Parker</span>. Mrs. Erlynne has
called to return your ladyship’s fan which she took away by
mistake last night. Mrs. Erlynne has written a message on
the card.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. Oh, ask Mrs.
Erlynne to be kind enough to come up. [<i>Reads
card</i>.] Say I shall be very glad to see her.</p>
<p style="text-align: right">[<i>Exit</i> <span
class="smcap">Parker</span>.]</p>
<p>She wants to see me, Arthur.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span>. [<i>Takes
card and looks at it</i>.] Margaret, I <i>beg</i> you not
to. Let me see her first, at any rate. She’s a
very dangerous woman. She is the most dangerous woman I
know. You don’t realise what you’re doing.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. It is right
that I should see her.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span>. My child,
you may be on the brink of a great sorrow. Don’t go
to meet it. It is absolutely necessary that I should see
her before you do.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. Why should
it be necessary?</p>
<p>[<i>Enter</i> <span class="smcap">Parker</span>.]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Parker</span>. Mrs. Erlynne.</p>
<p>[<i>Enter</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Erlynne</span>.]</p>
<p style="text-align: right">[<i>Exit</i> <span
class="smcap">Parker</span>.]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Erlynne</span>. How do you do,
Lady Windermere? [<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Lord
Windermere</span>.] How do you do? Do you know, Lady
Windermere, I am so sorry about your fan. I can’t
imagine how I made such a silly mistake. Most stupid of
me. And as I was driving in your direction, I thought I
would take the opportunity of returning your property in person
with many apologies for my carelessness, and of bidding you
good-bye.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>.
Good-bye? [<i>Moves towards sofa with</i> <span
class="smcap">Mrs. Erlynne</span> <i>and sits down beside
her</i>.] Are you going away, then, Mrs. Erlynne?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Erlynne</span>. Yes; I am going
to live abroad again. The English climate doesn’t
suit me. My—heart is affected here, and that I
don’t like. I prefer living in the south.
London is too full of fogs and—and serious people, Lord
Windermere. Whether the fogs produce the serious people or
whether the serious people produce the fogs, I don’t know,
but the whole thing rather gets on my nerves, and so I’m
leaving this afternoon by the Club Train.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. This
afternoon? But I wanted so much to come and see you.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Erlynne</span>. How kind of
you! But I am afraid I have to go.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. Shall I
never see you again, Mrs. Erlynne?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Erlynne</span>. I am afraid
not. Our lives lie too far apart. But there is a
little thing I would like you to do for me. I want a
photograph of you, Lady Windermere—would you give me
one? You don’t know how gratified I should be.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. Oh, with
pleasure. There is one on that table. I’ll show
it to you. [<i>Goes across to the table</i>.]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span>. [<i>Coming
up to</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Erlynne</span> <i>and speaking
in a low voice</i>.] It is monstrous your intruding
yourself here after your conduct last night.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Erlynne</span>. [<i>With an
amused smile</i>.] My dear Windermere, manners before
morals!</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>.
[<i>Returning</i>.] I’m afraid it is very
flattering—I am not so pretty as that. [<i>Showing
photograph</i>.]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Erlynne</span>. You are much
prettier. But haven’t you got one of yourself with
your little boy?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. I
have. Would you prefer one of those?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Erlynne</span>. Yes.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. I’ll
go and get it for you, if you’ll excuse me for a
moment. I have one upstairs.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Erlynne</span>. So sorry, Lady
Windermere, to give you so much trouble.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. [<i>Moves to
door R.</i>] No trouble at all, Mrs. Erlynne.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Erlynne</span>. Thanks so
much.</p>
<p>[<i>Exit</i> <span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>
<i>R.</i>] You seem rather out of temper this morning,
Windermere. Why should you be? Margaret and I get on
charmingly together.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span>. I
can’t bear to see you with her. Besides, you have not
told me the truth, Mrs. Erlynne.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Erlynne</span>. I have not told
<i>her</i> the truth, you mean.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span>. [<i>Standing
C.</i>] I sometimes wish you had. I should have been
spared then the misery, the anxiety, the annoyance of the last
six months. But rather than my wife should know—that
the mother whom she was taught to consider as dead, the mother
whom she has mourned as dead, is living—a divorced woman,
going about under an assumed name, a bad woman preying upon life,
as I know you now to be—rather than that, I was ready to
supply you with money to pay bill after bill, extravagance after
extravagance, to risk what occurred yesterday, the first quarrel
I have ever had with my wife. You don’t understand
what that means to me. How could you? But I tell you
that the only bitter words that ever came from those sweet lips
of hers were on your account, and I hate to see you next
her. You sully the innocence that is in her. [<i>Moves
L.C.</i>] And then I used to think that with all your
faults you were frank and honest. You are not.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Erlynne</span>. Why do you say
that?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span>. You made me
get you an invitation to my wife’s ball.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Erlynne</span>. For my
daughter’s ball—yes.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span>. You came,
and within an hour of your leaving the house you are found in a
man’s rooms—you are disgraced before every one.
[<i>Goes up stage C.</i>]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Erlynne</span>. Yes.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span>. [<i>Turning
round on her</i>.] Therefore I have a right to look upon
you as what you are—a worthless, vicious woman. I
have the right to tell you never to enter this house, never to
attempt to come near my wife—</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Erlynne</span>.
[<i>Coldly</i>.] My daughter, you mean.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span>. You have no
right to claim her as your daughter. You left her,
abandoned her when she was but a child in the cradle, abandoned
her for your lover, who abandoned you in turn.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Erlynne</span>.
[<i>Rising</i>.] Do you count that to his credit, Lord
Windermere—or to mine?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span>. To his, now
that I know you.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Erlynne</span>. Take
care—you had better be careful.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span>. Oh, I am not
going to mince words for you. I know you thoroughly.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Erlynne</span>. [<i>Looks
steadily at him</i>.] I question that.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span>. I <i>do</i>
know you. For twenty years of your life you lived without
your child, without a thought of your child. One day you
read in the papers that she had married a rich man. You saw
your hideous chance. You knew that to spare her the
ignominy of learning that a woman like you was her mother, I
would endure anything. You began your blackmailing.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Erlynne</span>. [<i>Shrugging
her shoulders</i>.] Don’t use ugly words,
Windermere. They are vulgar. I saw my chance, it is
true, and took it.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span>. Yes, you
took it—and spoiled it all last night by being found
out.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Erlynne</span>. [<i>With a
strange smile</i>.] You are quite right, I spoiled it all
last night.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span>. And as for
your blunder in taking my wife’s fan from here and then
leaving it about in Darlington’s rooms, it is
unpardonable. I can’t bear the sight of it now.
I shall never let my wife use it again. The thing is soiled
for me. You should have kept it and not brought it
back.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Erlynne</span>. I think I shall
keep it. [<i>Goes up</i>.] It’s extremely
pretty. [<i>Takes up fan</i>.] I shall ask Margaret
to give it to me.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span>. I hope my
wife will give it you.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Erlynne</span>. Oh, I’m
sure she will have no objection.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span>. I wish that
at the same time she would give you a miniature she kisses every
night before she prays—It’s the miniature of a young
innocent-looking girl with beautiful <i>dark</i> hair.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Erlynne</span>. Ah, yes, I
remember. How long ago that seems! [<i>Goes to sofa
and sits down</i>.] It was done before I was married.
Dark hair and an innocent expression were the fashion then,
Windermere! [<i>A pause</i>.]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span>. What do you
mean by coming here this morning? What is your
object? [<i>Crossing L.C. and sitting</i>.]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Erlynne</span>. [<i>With a note
of irony in her voice</i>.] To bid good-bye to my dear
daughter, of course. [<span class="smcap">Lord
Windermere</span> <i>bites his under lip in anger</i>.
<span class="smcap">Mrs. Erlynne</span> <i>looks at him</i>,
<i>and her voice and manner become serious</i>. <i>In her
accents as she talks there is a note of deep tragedy</i>.
<i>For a moment she reveals herself</i>.] Oh, don’t
imagine I am going to have a pathetic scene with her, weep on her
neck and tell her who I am, and all that kind of thing. I
have no ambition to play the part of a mother. Only once in
my life have I known a mother’s feelings. That was
last night. They were terrible—they made me
suffer—they made me suffer too much. For twenty
years, as you say, I have lived childless,—I want to live
childless still. [<i>Hiding her feelings with a trivial
laugh</i>.] Besides, my dear Windermere, how on earth could
I pose as a mother with a grown-up daughter? Margaret is
twenty-one, and I have never admitted that I am more than
twenty-nine, or thirty at the most. Twenty-nine when there
are pink shades, thirty when there are not. So you see what
difficulties it would involve. No, as far as I am
concerned, let your wife cherish the memory of this dead,
stainless mother. Why should I interfere with her
illusions? I find it hard enough to keep my own. I
lost one illusion last night. I thought I had no
heart. I find I have, and a heart doesn’t suit me,
Windermere. Somehow it doesn’t go with modern
dress. It makes one look old. [<i>Takes up
hand-mirror from table and looks into it</i>.] And it
spoils one’s career at critical moments.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span>. You fill me
with horror—with absolute horror.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Erlynne</span>.
[<i>Rising</i>.] I suppose, Windermere, you would like me
to retire into a convent, or become a hospital nurse, or
something of that kind, as people do in silly modern
novels. That is stupid of you, Arthur; in real life we
don’t do such things—not as long as we have any good
looks left, at any rate. No—what consoles one
nowadays is not repentance, but pleasure. Repentance is
quite out of date. And besides, if a woman really repents,
she has to go to a bad dressmaker, otherwise no one believes in
her. And nothing in the world would induce me to do
that. No; I am going to pass entirely out of your two
lives. My coming into them has been a mistake—I
discovered that last night.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span>. A fatal
mistake.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Erlynne</span>.
[<i>Smiling</i>.] Almost fatal.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span>. I am sorry
now I did not tell my wife the whole thing at once.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Erlynne</span>. I regret my bad
actions. You regret your good ones—that is the
difference between us.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span>. I
don’t trust you. I <i>will</i> tell my wife.
It’s better for her to know, and from me. It will
cause her infinite pain—it will humiliate her terribly, but
it’s right that she should know.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Erlynne</span>. You propose to
tell her?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span>. I am going
to tell her.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Erlynne</span>. [<i>Going up to
him</i>.] If you do, I will make my name so infamous that
it will mar every moment of her life. It will ruin her, and
make her wretched. If you dare to tell her, there is no
depth of degradation I will not sink to, no pit of shame I will
not enter. You shall not tell her—I forbid you.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span>. Why?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Erlynne</span>. [<i>After a
pause</i>.] If I said to you that I cared for her, perhaps
loved her even—you would sneer at me, wouldn’t
you?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span>. I should
feel it was not true. A mother’s love means devotion,
unselfishness, sacrifice. What could you know of such
things?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Erlynne</span>. You are
right. What could I know of such things? Don’t
let us talk any more about it—as for telling my daughter
who I am, that I do not allow. It is my secret, it is not
yours. If I make up my mind to tell her, and I think I
will, I shall tell her before I leave the house—if not, I
shall never tell her.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span>.
[<i>Angrily</i>.] Then let me beg of you to leave our house
at once. I will make your excuses to Margaret.</p>
<p>[<i>Enter</i> <span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>
<i>R.</i> <i>She goes over to</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs.
Erlynne</span> <i>with the photograph in her hand</i>.
<span class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span> <i>moves to back of
sofa</i>, <i>and anxiously watches</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs.
Erlynne</span> <i>as the scene progresses</i>.]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. I am so
sorry, Mrs. Erlynne, to have kept you waiting. I
couldn’t find the photograph anywhere. At last I
discovered it in my husband’s dressing-room—he had
stolen it.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Erlynne</span>. [<i>Takes the
photograph from her and looks at it</i>.] I am not
surprised—it is charming. [<i>Goes over to sofa
with</i> <span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>, <i>and sits
down beside her</i>. <i>Looks again at the
photograph</i>.] And so that is your little boy! What
is he called?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. Gerard,
after my dear father.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Erlynne</span>. [<i>Laying the
photograph down</i>.] Really?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. Yes.
If it had been a girl, I would have called it after my
mother. My mother had the same name as myself,
Margaret.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Erlynne</span>. My name is
Margaret too.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. Indeed!</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Erlynne</span>. Yes.
[<i>Pause</i>.] You are devoted to your mother’s
memory, Lady Windermere, your husband tells me.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. We all have
ideals in life. At least we all should have. Mine is
my mother.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Erlynne</span>. Ideals are
dangerous things. Realities are better. They wound,
but they’re better.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. [<i>Shaking
her head</i>.] If I lost my ideals, I should lose
everything.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Erlynne</span>. Everything?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. Yes.
[<i>Pause</i>.]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Erlynne</span>. Did your father
often speak to you of your mother?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. No, it gave
him too much pain. He told me how my mother had died a few
months after I was born. His eyes filled with tears as he
spoke. Then he begged me never to mention her name to him
again. It made him suffer even to hear it. My
father—my father really died of a broken heart. His
was the most ruined life know.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Erlynne</span>.
[<i>Rising</i>.] I am afraid I must go now, Lady
Windermere.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>.
[<i>Rising</i>.] Oh no, don’t.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Erlynne</span>. I think I had
better. My carriage must have come back by this time.
I sent it to Lady Jedburgh’s with a note.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. Arthur,
would you mind seeing if Mrs. Erlynne’s carriage has come
back?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Erlynne</span>. Pray
don’t trouble, Lord Windermere.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. Yes, Arthur,
do go, please.</p>
<p>[<span class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span> <i>hesitated for a
moment and looks at</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs.
Erlynne</span>. <i>She remains quite impassive</i>.
<i>He leaves the room</i>.]</p>
<p>[<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Erlynne</span>.]
Oh! What am I to say to you? You saved me last
night? [<i>Goes towards her</i>.]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Erlynne</span>.
Hush—don’t speak of it.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. I must speak
of it. I can’t let you think that I am going to
accept this sacrifice. I am not. It is too
great. I am going to tell my husband everything. It
is my duty.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Erlynne</span>. It is not your
duty—at least you have duties to others besides him.
You say you owe me something?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. I owe you
everything.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Erlynne</span>. Then pay your
debt by silence. That is the only way in which it can be
paid. Don’t spoil the one good thing I have done in
my life by telling it to any one. Promise me that what
passed last night will remain a secret between us. You must
not bring misery into your husband’s life. Why spoil
his love? You must not spoil it. Love is easily
killed. Oh! how easily love is killed. Pledge me your
word, Lady Windermere, that you will never tell him. I
insist upon it.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. [<i>With
bowed head</i>.] It is your will, not mine.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Erlynne</span>. Yes, it is my
will. And never forget your child—I like to think of
you as a mother. I like you to think of yourself as
one.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. [<i>Looking
up</i>.] I always will now. Only once in my life I
have forgotten my own mother—that was last night. Oh,
if I had remembered her I should not have been so foolish, so
wicked.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Erlynne</span>. [<i>With a
slight shudder</i>.] Hush, last night is quite over.</p>
<p>[<i>Enter</i> <span class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span>.]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span>. Your
carriage has not come back yet, Mrs. Erlynne.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Erlynne</span>. It makes no
matter. I’ll take a hansom. There is nothing in
the world so respectable as a good Shrewsbury and Talbot.
And now, dear Lady Windermere, I am afraid it is really
good-bye. [<i>Moves up C.</i>] Oh, I remember.
You’ll think me absurd, but do you know I’ve taken a
great fancy to this fan that I was silly enough to run away with
last night from your ball. Now, I wonder would you give it
to me? Lord Windermere says you may. I know it is his
present.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. Oh,
certainly, if it will give you any pleasure. But it has my
name on it. It has ‘Margaret’ on it.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Erlynne</span>. But we have the
same Christian name.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. Oh, I
forgot. Of course, do have it. What a wonderful
chance our names being the same!</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Erlynne</span>. Quite
wonderful. Thanks—it will always remind me of
you. [<i>Shakes hands with her</i>.]</p>
<p>[<i>Enter</i> <span class="smcap">Parker</span>.]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Parker</span>. Lord Augustus
Lorton. Mrs. Erlynne’s carriage has come.</p>
<p>[<i>Enter</i> <span class="smcap">Lord Augustus</span>.]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Augustus</span>. Good morning,
dear boy. Good morning, Lady Windermere. [<i>Sees</i>
<span class="smcap">Mrs. Erlynne</span>.] Mrs. Erlynne!</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Erlynne</span>. How do you do,
Lord Augustus? Are you quite well this morning?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Augustus</span>.
[<i>Coldly</i>.] Quite well, thank you, Mrs. Erlynne.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Erlynne</span>. You don’t
look at all well, Lord Augustus. You stop up too
late—it is so bad for you. You really should take
more care of yourself. Good-bye, Lord Windermere. [<i>Goes
towards door with a bow to</i> <span class="smcap">Lord
Augustus</span>. <i>Suddenly smiles and looks back at
him</i>.] Lord Augustus! Won’t you see me to my
carriage? You might carry the fan.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span>. Allow
me!</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Erlynne</span>. No; I want Lord
Augustus. I have a special message for the dear
Duchess. Won’t you carry the fan, Lord Augustus?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Augustus</span>. If you really
desire it, Mrs. Erlynne.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Erlynne</span>.
[<i>Laughing</i>.] Of course I do. You’ll carry
it so gracefully. You would carry off anything gracefully,
dear Lord Augustus.</p>
<p>[<i>When she reaches the door she looks back for a moment
at</i> <span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. <i>Their
eyes meet</i>. <i>Then she turns</i>, <i>and exit C.
followed by</i> <span class="smcap">Lord Augustus</span>.]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. You will
never speak against Mrs. Erlynne again, Arthur, will you?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span>.
[<i>Gravely</i>.] She is better than one thought her.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. She is
better than I am.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span>. [<i>Smiling
as he strokes her hair</i>.] Child, you and she belong to
different worlds. Into your world evil has never
entered.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. Don’t
say that, Arthur. There is the same world for all of us,
and good and evil, sin and innocence, go through it hand in
hand. To shut one’s eyes to half of life that one may
live securely is as though one blinded oneself that one might
walk with more safety in a land of pit and precipice.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span>. [<i>Moves
down with her</i>.] Darling, why do you say that?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. [<i>Sits on
sofa</i>.] Because I, who had shut my eyes to life, came to
the brink. And one who had separated us—</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span>. We were
never separated.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. We never
must be again. O Arthur, don’t love me less, and I
will trust you more. I will trust you absolutely. Let
us go to Selby. In the Rose Garden at Selby the roses are
white and red.</p>
<p>[<i>Enter</i> <span class="smcap">Lord Augustus</span>
<i>C.</i>]</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Augustus</span>. Arthur, she
has explained everything!</p>
<p>[<span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span> <i>looks horribly
frightened at this</i>. <span class="smcap">Lord
Windermere</span> <i>starts</i>. <span class="smcap">Lord
Augustus</span> <i>takes</i> <span
class="smcap">Windermere</span> <i>by the arm and brings him to
front of stage</i>. <i>He talks rapidly and in a low
voice</i>. <span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>
<i>stands watching them in terror</i>.] My dear fellow, she
has explained every demmed thing. We all wronged her
immensely. It was entirely for my sake she went to
Darlington’s rooms. Called first at the
Club—fact is, wanted to put me out of suspense—and
being told I had gone on—followed—naturally
frightened when she heard a lot of us coming in—retired to
another room—I assure you, most gratifying to me, the whole
thing. We all behaved brutally to her. She is just
the woman for me. Suits me down to the ground. All
the conditions she makes are that we live entirely out of
England. A very good thing too. Demmed clubs, demmed
climate, demmed cooks, demmed everything. Sick of it
all!</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>.
[<i>Frightened</i>.] Has Mrs. Erlynne—?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Augustus</span>. [<i>Advancing
towards her with a low bow</i>.] Yes, Lady
Windermere— Mrs. Erlynne has done me the honour of
accepting my hand.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lord Windermere</span>. Well, you
are certainly marrying a very clever woman!</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Lady Windermere</span>. [<i>Taking
her husband’s hand</i>.] Ah, you’re marrying a
very good woman!</p>
<div class="gapspace"> </div>
<p style="text-align: center"><span
class="smcap">Curtain</span></p>
<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LADY WINDERMERE’S FAN ***</div>
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