Mrs. Arbuthnot. I heard what you said. I agree with it, Miss Worsley.
Hester. I didn’t know you had heard it. But I knew you would agree with me. A woman who has sinned should be punished, shouldn’t she?
Mrs. Arbuthnot. Yes.
Hester. She shouldn’t be allowed to come into the society of good men and women?
Mrs. Arbuthnot. She should not.
Hester. And the man should be punished in the same way?
Mrs. Arbuthnot. In the same way. And the children, if there are children, in the same way also?
Hester. Yes, it is right that the sins of the parents should be visited on the children. It is a just law. It is God’s law.
Mrs. Arbuthnot. It is one of God’s terrible laws.
[Moves away to fireplace.]
Hester. You are distressed about your son leaving you, Mrs. Arbuthnot?
Mrs. Arbuthnot. Yes.
Hester. Do you like him going away with Lord Illingworth? Of course there is position, no doubt, and money, but position and money are not everything, are they?
Mrs. Arbuthnot. They are nothing; they bring misery.
Hester. Then why do you let your son go with him?
Mrs. Arbuthnot. He wishes it himself.
Hester. But if you asked him he would stay, would he not?
Mrs. Arbuthnot. He has set his heart on going.
Hester. He couldn’t refuse you anything. He loves you too much. Ask him to stay. Let me send him in to you. He is on the terrace at this moment with Lord Illingworth. I heard them laughing together as I passed through the Music-room.
Mrs. Arbuthnot. Don’t trouble, Miss Worsley, I can wait. It is of no consequence.
Hester. No, I’ll tell him you want him. Do—do ask him to stay. [Exit Hester.]
Mrs. Arbuthnot. He won’t come—I know he won’t come.
[Enter Lady Caroline. She looks round anxiously. Enter Gerald.]
Lady Caroline. Mr. Arbuthnot, may I ask you is Sir John anywhere on the terrace?
Gerald. No, Lady Caroline, he is not on the terrace.
Lady Caroline. It is very curious. It is time for him to retire.
[Exit Lady Caroline.]
Gerald. Dear mother, I am afraid I kept you waiting. I forgot all about it. I am so happy to-night, mother; I have never been so happy.
Mrs. Arbuthnot. At the prospect of going away?
Gerald. Don’t put it like that, mother. Of course I am sorry to leave you. Why, you are the best mother in the whole world. But after all, as Lord Illingworth says, it is impossible to live in such a place as Wrockley. You don’t mind it. But I’m ambitious; I want something more than that. I want to have a career. I want to do something that will make you proud of me, and Lord Illingworth is going to help me. He is going to do everything for me.
Mrs. Arbuthnot. Gerald, don’t go away with Lord Illingworth. I implore you not to. Gerald, I beg you!
Gerald. Mother, how changeable you are! You don’t seem to know your own mind for a single moment. An hour and a half ago in the Drawing-room you agreed to the whole thing; now you turn round and make objections, and try to force me to give up my one chance in life. Yes, my one chance. You don’t suppose that men like Lord Illingworth are to be found every day, do you, mother? It is very strange that when I have had such a wonderful piece of good luck, the one person to put difficulties in my way should be my own mother. Besides, you know, mother, I love Hester Worsley. Who could help loving her? I love her more than I have ever told you, far more. And if I had a position, if I had prospects, I could—I could ask her to—Don’t you understand now, mother, what it means to me to be Lord Illingworth’s secretary? To start like that is to find a career ready for one—before one—waiting for one. If I were Lord Illingworth’s secretary I could ask Hester to be my wife. As a wretched bank clerk with a hundred a year it would be an impertinence.
Mrs. Arbuthnot. I fear you need have no hopes of Miss Worsley. I know her views on life. She has just told them to me. [A pause.]
Gerald. Then I have my ambition left, at any rate. That is something—I am glad I have that! You have always tried to crush my ambition, mother—haven’t you? You have told me that the world is a wicked place, that success is not worth having, that society is shallow, and all that sort of thing—well, I don’t believe it, mother. I think the world must be delightful. I think society must be exquisite. I think success is a thing worth having. You have been wrong in all that you taught me, mother, quite wrong. Lord Illingworth is a successful man. He is a fashionable man. He is a man who lives in the world and for it. Well, I would give anything to be just like Lord Illingworth.
Mrs. Arbuthnot. I would sooner see you dead.
Gerald. Mother, what is your objection to Lord Illingworth? Tell me—tell me right out. What is it?
Mrs. Arbuthnot. He is a bad man.
Gerald. In what way bad? I don’t understand what you mean.
Mrs. Arbuthnot. I will tell you.
Gerald. I suppose you think him bad, because he doesn’t believe the same things as you do. Well, men are different from women, mother. It is natural that they should have different views.
Mrs. Arbuthnot. It is not what Lord Illingworth believes, or what he does not believe, that makes him bad. It is what he is.
Gerald. Mother, is it something you know of him? Something you actually know?
Mrs. Arbuthnot. It is something I know.
Gerald. Something you are quite sure of?
Mrs. Arbuthnot. Quite sure of.
Gerald. How long have you known it?
Mrs. Arbuthnot. For twenty years.
Gerald. Is it fair to go back twenty years in any man’s career? And what have you or I to do with Lord Illingworth’s early life? What business is it of ours?
Mrs. Arbuthnot. What this man has been, he is now, and will be always.
Gerald. Mother, tell me what Lord Illingworth did? If he did anything shameful, I will not go away with him. Surely you know me well enough for that?
Mrs. Arbuthnot. Gerald, come near to me. Quite close to me, as you used to do when you were a little boy, when you were mother’s own boy. [Gerald sits down beside his mother. She runs her fingers through his hair, and strokes his hands.] Gerald, there was a girl once, she was very young, she was little over eighteen at the time. George Harford—that was Lord Illingworth’s name then—George Harford met her. She knew nothing about life. He—knew everything. He made this girl love him. He made her love him so much that she left her father’s house with him one morning. She loved him so much, and he had promised to marry her! He had solemnly promised to marry her, and she had believed him. She was very young, and—and ignorant of what life really is. But he put the marriage off from week to week, and month to month.—She trusted in him all the while. She loved him.—Before her child was born—for she had a child—she implored him for the child’s sake to marry her, that the child might have a name, that her sin might not be visited on the child, who was innocent. He refused. After the child was born she left him, taking the child away, and her life was ruined, and her soul ruined, and all that was sweet, and good, and pure in her ruined also. She suffered terribly—she suffers now. She will always suffer. For her there is no joy, no peace, no atonement. She is a woman who drags a chain like a guilty thing. She is a woman who wears a mask, like a thing that is a leper. The fire cannot purify her. The waters cannot quench her anguish. Nothing can heal her! no anodyne can give her sleep! no poppies forgetfulness! She is lost! She is a lost soul!—That is why I call Lord Illingworth a bad man. That is why I don’t want my boy to be with him.
Gerald. My dear mother, it all sounds very tragic, of course. But I dare say the girl was just as much to blame as Lord Illingworth was.—After all, would a really nice girl, a girl with any nice feelings at all, go away from her home with a man to whom she was not married, and live with him as his wife? No nice girl would.
Mrs. Arbuthnot. [After a pause.] Gerald, I withdraw all my objections. You are at liberty to go away with Lord Illingworth, when and where you choose.
Gerald. Dear mother, I knew you wouldn’t stand in my way. You are the best woman God ever made. And, as for Lord Illingworth, I don’t believe he is capable of anything infamous or base. I can’t believe it of him—I can’t.
Hester. [Outside.] Let me go! Let me go! [Enter Hester in terror, and rushes over to Gerald and flings herself in his arms.]
Hester. Oh! save me—save me from him!
Gerald. From whom?
Hester. He has insulted me! Horribly insulted me! Save me!
Gerald. Who? Who has dared—?
[Lord Illingworth
