LADY WIN. Certainly!
LORD DAR. I think life too complex a thing to be settled by these
hard and fast rules.
LADY WIN. If we had «these hard and fast rules,» we should find
life much more simple.
LORD DAR. You allow of no exceptions?
LADY WIN. None!
LORD DAR. Ah, what a fascinating Puritan you are, Lady Windermere!
LADY WIN. The adjective was unnecessary, Lord Darlington.
LORD DAR. I couldn’t help it. I can resist everything except
temptation.
LADY WIN. You have the modern affectation of weakness.
LORD DAR. [Looking at her.] It’s only an affectation, Lady
Windermere. [Enter Parker C.]
PAR. The Duchess of Berwick and Lady Agatha Carlisle.
[Enter the Duchess of Berwick and Lady Agatha Carlisle C.]
[Exit Parker C.]
DUCH. [Coming down C., and shaking hands.] Dear Margaret, I am so
pleased to see you. You remember Agatha, don't you? [Crossing
L. C.] How do you do, Lord Darlington? I won't let you know my
daughter, you are far too wicked.
LORD DAR. 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.
DUCH. Isn't he dreadful? Agatha, this is Lord Darlington. Mind you
don't believe a word he says. [Lord Darlington crosses R. C.]
No, no tea, thank you, dear. [Crosses and sits on sofa.] 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.
LADY WIN. [Seated L. C.] 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.
LORD DAR. [Standing L. C.] Very small, very early, and very select,
Duchess.
DUCH. [On sofa L.] Of course it's going to be select. But we know
that , dear Margaret, about your house. It is really one of
the few houses in London where I can take Agatha, and where I
feel perfectly secure about poor 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.
LADY WIN. I will, Duchess. I will have no one in my house about
whom there is any scandal.
LORD DAR. [R. C.] Oh, don’t say that, Lady Windermere. I should
never be admitted! [Sitting.]
DUCH. 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.
LORD DAR. 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.
DUCH. The odd trick? Is that the husband, Lord Darlington?
LORD DAR. It would be rather a good name for the modern husband.
DUCH. Dear Lord Darlington, how thoroughly depraved you are!
LADY WIN. Lord Darlington is trivial.
LORD DAR. Ah, don’t say that, Lady Windermere.
LADY WIN. Why do you talk so trivially about life, then?
LORD DAR. Because I think that life is far too important a thing
ever to talk seriously about it. [Moves up C.]
DUCH. What does he mean? Do, as a concession to my poor wits, Lord
Darlington, just explain to me what you really mean?
LORD DAR. [Coming down back of table.] I think I had better not,
Duchess. Now-a-days to be intelligible is to be found out.
Good-bye! [Shakes hands with Duchess.] And now [goes up stage],
Lady Windermere, good-bye. I may come to-night, mayn’t I? Do let
me come.
LADY WIN. [Standing up stage with Lord Darlington.] Yes, certainly.
But you are not to say foolish insincere things to people.
LORD DAR. [Smiling.] Ah! you are beginning to reform me. It is a
dangerous thing to reform any one, Lady Windermere.
[Bows, and exit C.]
DUCH. [Who has risen, goes C.] What a charming wicked creature! I
like him so much. I’m quite delighted he’s gone! How sweet
you’re looking! Where do you get your gowns? And now I must tell
you how sorry I am for you, dear Margaret. [Crosses to sofa and
sits with Lady Windermere.] Agatha darling!
LADY AGA. Yes mama. [Rises.]
DUCH. Will you go and look over the photograph album that I see
there?
LADY AGA. Yes, mama. [Goes to table L.]
DUCH. 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.
LADY WIN. [Smiling.] Why, Duchess?
DUCH. 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 inadmissable into
society. Many a woman has a past, but I am told that she has at
least a dozen, and that they all fit.
LADY WIN. Whom are you talking about, Duchess?
DUCH. About Mrs. Erlynne.
LADY WIN. Mrs. Erlynne? I never heard of her, Duchess. And what has
she to do with me?
DUCH. My poor child! Agatha, darling!
LADY AGA. Yes, mama.
DUCH. Will you go out on the terrace and look at the sunset?
LADY AGA. Yes, mama. [Exit through window L.]
DUCH. Sweet girl! So devoted to sunsets! Shows such refinement of
feeling, does it not? After all, there is nothing like nature,
is there?
LADY WIN. But what is it, Duchess? Why do you talk to me about this
person?
DUCH. Don’t you really know? I assure you we’re all so distressed
about it. Only last night at dear Lady Fansen’s every one was
saying how extraordinary it was that, of all men in London,
Windermere should behave in such a way.
LADY WIN. My husband- what has he got to do with any woman of that
kind?
DUCH. 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 in particular, as I told you- and that is what
makes it so dreadful about Windermere. We looked upon him 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 see 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 pony in the Park every afternoon, and all- well all-
since she has known poor dear Windermere.
LADY WIN. Oh, I can’t believe it!
DUCH. 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.
LADY WIN. [Interrupting.] Duchess, Duchess, it’s impossible!
[Rising and crossing stage C.] We are only married two years.
Our child is but six months old. [Sits in chair R. of L. table.]
DUCH. 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.
LADY WIN. Are all men bad?
DUCH. 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.
LADY WIN. Windermere and I married for love.
DUCH. 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;
