me sometimes. Don’t
forget me. And when you pray, pray for me. We should pray when
 we are happiest, and you will be happy, Gerald.
HES. Oh, you don’t think of leaving us?
GER. Mother, you won’t leave us?
MRS. ARB. I might bring shame upon you!
GER. Mother!
MRS. ARB. For a little then: and if you let me, near you always.
HES. [To Mrs. Arbuthnot.] Come out with us to the garden.

MRS. ARB. Later on, later on. [Exeunt Hester and Gerald.]

   [Mrs. Arbuthnot goes toward door L.C. Stops at

looking-glass over mantelpiece and looks into it.]

[Enter Alice R.C.]

ALICE. A gentleman to see you, ma'am.
MRS. ARB. Say I am not at home. Show me the card. [Takes card from

salver and looks at it.] Say I will not see him.

   [Lord Illingworth enters. Mrs. Arbuthnot sees him in the

glass and starts, but does not turn round. Exit Alice.]

 What can you have to say to me to-day, George Harford? You can
 have nothing to say to me. You must leave this house.
LORD ILL. Rachel, Gerald knows everything about you and me now, so
 some arrangement must be come to that will suit us all three. I
 assure you, he will find in me the most charming and generous of
 fathers.
MRS. ARB. My son may come in at any moment. I saved you last night.
 I may not be able to save you again. My son feels my dishonour
 strongly, terribly strongly. I beg you to go.
LORD ILL. [Sitting down.] Last night was excessively unfortunate.
 That silly Puritan girl making a scene merely because I wanted
 to kiss her. What harm is there in a kiss?
MRS. ARB. [Turning round.] A kiss may ruin a human life, George
 Harford. I know that. I know that too well.

LORD ILL. We won’t discuss that at present. What is of importance
to-day, as yesterday, is still our son. I am extremely fond of
him, as you know, and odd though it may seem to you, I admired
his conduct last night immensely. He took up the cudgels for
that pretty prude with wonderful promptitude. He is just what I
should have liked a son of mine to be. Except that no son of
mine should ever take the side of the Puritans: that is always
an error. Now, what I propose is this.
MRS. ARB. Lord Illingworth, no proposition of yours interests me.
LORD ILL. According to our ridiculous English laws, I can’t
legitimise Gerald. But I can leave him my property. Illingworth
is entailed, of course, but it is a tedious barrack of a place.
He can have Ashby, which is much prettier, Harborough, which has
the best shooting in the north of England, and the house in St.
James Square. What more can a gentleman desire in this world?
MRS. ARB. Nothing more, I am quite sure.
LORD ILL. As for the title, a title is really rather a nuisance in
these democratic days. As George Harford I had everything I
wanted. Now I have merely everything that other people want,
which isn’t nearly so pleasant. Well, my proposal is this.
MRS. ARB. I told you I was not interested, and I beg you to go.
LORD ILL. The boy is to be with you for six months in the year, and
with me for the other six. That is perfectly fair, is it not?
You can have whatever allowance you like, and live where you
choose. As for your past, no one knows anything about it except
myself and Gerald. There is the Puritan, of course, the Puritan
in white muslin, but she doesn’t count. She couldn’t tell the
story without explaining that she objected to being kissed,
could she? And all the women would think her a fool and the men
think her a bore. And you need not be afraid that Gerald won’t
be my heir. I needn’t tell you I have not the slightest
intention of marrying.
MRS. ARB. You come too late. My son has no need of you. You are not
necessary.
LORD ILL. What do you mean, Rachel?
MRS. ARB. That you are not necessary to Gerald’s career. He does
not require you.
LORD ILL. I do not understand you.
MRS. ARB. Look into the garden. [Lord Illingworth rises and goes
towards window.] You had better not let them see you: you bring
unpleasant memories. [Lord Illingworth looks out and starts.]
She loves him. They love each other. We are safe from you, and
we are going away.
LORD ILL. Where?
MRS. ARB. We will not tell you, and if you find us we will not know
you. You seem surprised. What welcome would you get from the
girl whose lips you tried to soil, from the boy whose life you
have shamed, from the mother whose dishonour comes from you.
LORD ILL. You have grown hard, Rachel.
MRS. ARB. I was too weak once. It is well for me that I have
changed!
LORD ILL. I was very young at the time. We men know life too early.
MRS. ARB. And we women know life too late. That is the difference
between men and women. [A pause.]
LORD ILL. Rachel, I want my son. My money may be of no use to him
now. I may be of no use to him, but I want my son. Bring us
together, Rachel. You can do it if you choose. [Sees letter on
table.]
MRS. ARB. There is no room in my boy’s life for you. He is not
interested in you.
LORD ILL. Then why does he write to me?
MRS. ARB. What do you mean?
LORD ILL. What letter is this? [Takes up letter.]
MRS. ARB. That- is nothing. Give it to me.
LORD ILL. It is addressed to me.
MRS. ARB. You are not to open it. I forbid you to open it.
LORD ILL. And in Gerald’s handwriting.
MRS. ARB. It was not to have been sent. It is a letter he wrote to
you this morning before he saw me. But he is sorry now he wrote
it, very sorry. You are not to open it. Give it to me.
LORD ILL. It belongs to me. [Opens it, sits down and reads it
slowly. Mrs. Arbuthnot watches him all the time.] You have read
this letter, I suppose, Rachel?
MRS. ARB. No.
LORD ILL. You know what is in it?
MRS. ARB. Yes!
LORD ILL. I don’t admit for a moment that the boy is right in what
he says. I don’t admit it is any duty of mine to marry you. I
deny it entirely. But to get my son back I am ready- yes, I am
ready to marry you, Rachel- and to treat you always with the
deference and respect due to my wife. I will marry you as soon
as you choose. I give you my word of honour.
MRS. ARB. You made that promise to me once before and broke it.
LORD ILL. I will keep it now. And that will show that I love my
son, at least as much as you love him. For when I marry you,
Rachel, there are some ambitions I shall have to surrender. High
ambitions too, if any ambition is high.
MRS. ARB. I decline to marry you, Lord Illingworth.
LORD ILL. Are you serious?
MRS. ARB. Yes.
LORD ILL. Do tell me your reasons. They would interest me
enormously.
MRS. ARB. I have already explained them to my son.
LORD ILL. I suppose they were intensely sentimental, weren’t they?
You women live by your emotions and for them. You have no
philosophy of life.
MRS. ARB. You are right. We women live by our emotions and for
them. By our passions, and for them, if you will. I have two
passions, Lord Illingworth: my love of him, my hate of you. You
cannot kill those. They feed each other.
LORD ILL. What sort of love is that which needs to have hate as its
brother?
MRS. ARB. It is the sort of love I have for Gerald. Do you think
that terrible? Well, it is terrible. All love is terrible. All
love is a tragedy. I loved you once, Lord Illingworth. Oh, what
 a tragedy for a woman to have loved you!
LORD ILL. So you really refuse to marry me?
MRS. ARB. Yes.
LORD ILL. Because you hate me?
MRS. ARB. Yes.
LORD ILL. And does my son hate me as you do?
MRS. ARB. No.
LORD ILL. I am glad of that, Rachel.
MRS. ARB. He merely despises you.
LORD ILL. What a pity! What a pity for him, I mean.
MRS. ARB. Don’t be deceived, George. Children begin by loving their
parents. After a time they judge them. Rarely if ever do they
forgive them.
LORD ILL. [Reads letter over again, very slowly.] May I ask by what
arguments you made the boy who wrote this letter, this
beautiful, passionate letter, believe that you should not marry
his father, the father of your own child?
MRS. ARB. It was not I who made him see it. It was another.
LORD ILL. What fin-de-siecle person?
MRS. ARB. The Puritan, Lord Illingworth. [A pause.]
LORD ILL. [Winces, then rises slowly and goes over to table where
his hat and gloves are. Mrs. Arbuthnot is standing close to the
table. He picks up one if the gloves and begins putting it on.]
There is not much then for me to do here, Rachel?
MRS. ARB. Nothing.
LORD ILL. It is good-bye, is it?
MRS. ARB. For ever, I hope, this time, Lord Illingworth.
LORD ILL. How curious! At this moment you look exactly as you
looked the night you left me twenty years ago. You have just the
same expression in your mouth. Upon my word, Rachel, no woman
ever loved me as you did. Why, you gave yourself to me like a
flower, to do anything I liked with. You were the prettiest of
playthings, the most fascinating of small romances…. [Pulls
out watch.] Quarter to two! Must be strolling back to
Hunstanton. Don’t suppose I shall see you there again. I’m
 sorry, I am, really. It’s been an amusing experience to have met
amongst people of one’s own rank, and treated quite seriously

too, one’s mistress and one’s-

   [Mrs. Arbuthnot snatches up glove and strikes Lord
 Illingworth across