Chapter I: Part 1

LADY WINDERMERE’S FAN

A PLAY
ABOUT A GOOD WOMAN

BY

OSCAR WILDE

* * * * *

METHUEN & CO. LTD.
36 ESSEX STREET W.C.
LONDON

_Sixteenth Edition_

_First Published_ _1893_ _First Issued by Methuen & Co. Ltd._ (_Limited Editions on _1908_ Hand-made Paper and Japanese Vellum_) _February_ _Third Edition_ (_F’cap_ 8_vo_, 5_s._ _net_) _September_ _1909_ _Fourth Edition_ (5_s._ _net_) _June_ _1910_ _Fifth Edition_ (_F’cap_ 8_vo_, 1_s._ _net_) _November 3rd_ _1911_ _Sixth Edition_ (1_s._ _net_) _November_ _1911_ _Eighth Edition_ (1_s._ _net_) _1912_, _Ninth and Tenth Editions_ (1_s._ _net_) _1913_, _Eleventh Edition_ (1_s._ _net_) _1914_, _Twelfth Edition_ (1_s._ _net_) _1915_, _Thirteenth Edition_ (1_s._ _net_) _1916_, _Fourteenth and Fifteenth Edition_ (1_s._ _net_) _1917_ _Sixteenth Edition_ (5_s._ _net_) _1917_

_The literary and dramatic rights of_ “_Lady Windermere’s Fan_” _belong to Sir George Alexander_, _by arrangement with whom this play is included in this edition_. _The acting version_ (_Samuel French_) _does not contain the complete text_.

* * * * *

TO
THE DEAR MEMORY
OF
ROBERT EARL OF LYTTON
IN AFFECTION
AND
ADMIRATION

* * * * *

THE PERSONS OF THE PLAY

Lord Windermere

Lord Darlington

Lord Augustus Lorton

Mr. Dumby

Mr. Cecil Graham

Mr. Hopper

Parker, Butler

* * * * *

Lady Windermere

The Duchess of Berwick

Lady Agatha Carlisle

Lady Plymdale

Lady Stutfield

Lady Jedburgh

Mrs. Cowper-Cowper

Mrs. Erlynne

Rosalie, Maid

THE SCENES OF THE PLAY

ACT I. _Morning-room in Lord Windermere’s house_. ACT II. _Drawing-room in Lord Windermere’s house_. ACT III. _Lord Darlington’s rooms_. ACT IV. _Same as Act I._ TIME: _The Present_. PLACE: _London_.

_The action of the play takes place within twenty-four hours_, _beginning on a Tuesday afternoon at five o’clock_, _and ending the next day at_ 1.30 _p.m._

LONDON: ST. JAMES’S THEATRE

_Lessee and Manager_: _Mr. George Alexander_
_February_ 22_nd_, 1892.

LORD WINDERMERE _Mr. George Alexander_. LORD DARLINGTON _Mr. Nutcombe Gould_. LORD AUGUSTUS LORTON _Mr. H. H. Vincent_. MR. CECIL GRAHAM _Mr. Ben Webster_. MR. DUMBY _Mr. Vane-Tempest_. MR. HOPPER _Mr. Alfred Holles_. PARKER (_Butler_) _Mr. V. Sansbury_. LADY WINDERMERE _Miss Lily Hanbury_. THE DUCHESS OF BERWICK _Miss Fanny Coleman_. LADY AGATHA CARLISLE _Miss Laura Graves_. LADY PLYMDALE _Miss Granville_. LADY JEDBURGH _Miss B. Page_. LADY STUTFIELD _Miss Madge Girdlestone_. MRS. COWPER-COWPER _Miss A. de Winton_. MRS. ERLYNNE _Miss Marion Terry_. ROSALIE (_Maid_) _Miss Winifred Dolan_.

FIRST ACT

SCENE

_Morning-room of Lord Windermere’s house in Carlton House Terrace_. _Doors C. and R. Bureau with books and papers R._ _Sofa with small tea-table L._ _Window opening on to terrace L._ _Table R._

[LADY WINDERMERE _is at table R._, _arranging roses in a blue bowl_.]

[_Enter_ PARKER.]

PARKER. Is your ladyship at home this afternoon?

LADY WINDERMERE. Yes—who has called?

PARKER. Lord Darlington, my lady.

LADY WINDERMERE. [_Hesitates for a moment_.] Show him up—and I’m at home to any one who calls.

PARKER. Yes, my lady.

[_Exit C._]

LADY WINDERMERE. It’s best for me to see him before to-night. I’m glad he’s come.

[_Enter_ PARKER _C._]

PARKER. Lord Darlington,

[_Enter_ LORD DARLINGTON _C._]

[_Exit_ PARKER.]

LORD DARLINGTON. How do you do, Lady Windermere?

LADY WINDERMERE. 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.

LORD DARLINGTON. They are quite perfect. [_Sees a fan lying on the table_.] And what a wonderful fan! May I look at it?

LADY WINDERMERE. 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?

LORD DARLINGTON. No? Is it really?

LADY WINDERMERE. 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. [_Still arranging flowers_.]

LORD DARLINGTON. [_Sitting down_.] 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.

[_A short pause_.]

LADY WINDERMERE. Lord Darlington, you annoyed me last night at the Foreign Office. I am afraid you are going to annoy me again.

LORD DARLINGTON. I, Lady Windermere?

[_Enter_ PARKER _and_ FOOTMAN _C._, _with tray and tea things_.]

LADY WINDERMERE. Put it there, Parker. That will do. [_Wipes her hands with her pocket-handkerchief_, _goes to tea-table_, _and sits down_.] Won’t you come over, Lord Darlington?

[_Exit_ PARKER _C._]

LORD DARLINGTON. [_Takes chair and goes across L.C._] I am quite miserable, Lady Windermere. You must tell me what I did. [_Sits down at table L._]

LADY WINDERMERE. Well, you kept paying me elaborate compliments the whole evening.

LORD DARLINGTON. [_Smiling_.] Ah, nowadays we are all of us so hard up, that the only pleasant things to pay _are_ compliments. They’re the only things we _can_ pay.

LADY WINDERMERE. [_Shaking her head_.] 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.

LORD DARLINGTON. Ah, but I did mean them. [_Takes tea which she offers him_.]

LADY WINDERMERE. [_Gravely_.] 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.

LORD DARLINGTON. We all have our little vanities, Lady Windermere.

LADY WINDERMERE. Why do you make that your special one? [_Still seated at table L._]

LORD DARLINGTON. [_Still seated L.C._] 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.

LADY WINDERMERE. Don’t you _want_ the world to take you seriously then, Lord Darlington?

LORD DARLINGTON. 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 _you_ to take me very seriously, Lady Windermere, _you_ more than any one else in life.

LADY WINDERMERE. Why—why me?

LORD DARLINGTON. [_After a slight hesitation_.] Because I think we might be great friends. Let us be great friends. You may want a friend some day.

LADY WINDERMERE. Why do you say that?

LORD DARLINGTON. Oh!—we all want friends at times.

LADY WINDERMERE. I think we’re very good friends already, Lord Darlington. We can always remain so as long as you don’t—

LORD DARLINGTON. Don’t what?

LADY WINDERMERE. 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. _She_ allowed of no compromise. _I_ allow of none.

LORD DARLINGTON. My dear Lady Windermere!

LADY WINDERMERE. [_Leaning back on the sofa_.] 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.

LORD DARLINGTON. You think the age very bad?

LADY WINDERMERE. 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.

LORD DARLINGTON. [_Smiling_.] Oh, anything is better than being sacrificed!

LADY WINDERMERE. [_Leaning forward_.] Don’t say that.

LORD DARLINGTON. I do say it. I feel it—I know it.

[_Enter_ PARKER _C._]

PARKER. The men want to know if they are to put the carpets on the terrace for to-night, my lady?

LADY WINDERMERE. You don’t think it will rain, Lord Darlington, do you?

LORD DARLINGTON. I won’t hear of its raining on your birthday!

LADY WINDERMERE. Tell them to do it at once, Parker.

[_Exit_ PARKER _C._]

LORD DARLINGTON. [_Still seated_.] 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?

LADY WINDERMERE. [_Frowning_.] Console herself?

LORD DARLINGTON. Yes, I think she should—I think she has the right.

LADY WINDERMERE. Because the husband is vile—should the wife be vile also?

LORD DARLINGTON. Vileness is a terrible word, Lady Windermere.

LADY WINDERMERE. It is a terrible thing, Lord Darlington.

LORD DARLINGTON. 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.

LADY WINDERMERE. Now, Lord Darlington. [_Rising and crossing R._, _front of him_.] Don’t stir, I am merely going to finish my flowers. [_Goes to table R.C._]

LORD DARLINGTON. [_Rising and moving chair_.] 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.

LADY WINDERMERE. Don’t talk about such people.

LORD DARLINGTON. 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?

LADY WINDERMERE. [_Standing at table_.] I think they should never be forgiven.

LORD DARLINGTON. And men? Do you think that there should be the same laws for men as there are for women?

LADY WINDERMERE. Certainly!

LORD DARLINGTON. I think life too complex a thing to be settled by these hard and fast rules.

LADY WINDERMERE. If we had ‘these hard and fast rules,’ we should find life much more simple.

LORD DARLINGTON. You allow of no exceptions?

LADY WINDERMERE. None!

LORD DARLINGTON. Ah, what a fascinating Puritan you are, Lady Windermere!

LADY WINDERMERE. The adjective was unnecessary, Lord Darlington.

LORD DARLINGTON. I couldn’t help it. I can resist everything except temptation.

LADY WINDERMERE. You have the modern affectation of weakness.

LORD DARLINGTON. [_Looking at her_.] It’s only an affectation, Lady Windermere.

[_Enter_ PARKER _C._]

PARKER. The Duchess of Berwick and Lady Agatha Carlisle.

[_Enter the_ DUCHESS OF BERWICK and LADY AGATHA CARLISLE _C._]

[_Exit_ PARKER _C._]

DUCHESS OF BERWICK. [_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 DARLINGTON. 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.

DUCHESS OF BERWICK. 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 WINDERMERE. [_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 DARLINGTON. [_Standing L.C._] Very small, very early, and very select, Duchess.

DUCHESS OF BERWICK. [_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 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.

LADY WINDERMERE. _I_ will, Duchess. I will have no one in my house about whom there is any scandal.

LORD DARLINGTON. [_R.C._] Oh, don’t say that, Lady Windermere. I should never be admitted! [_Sitting_.]

DUCHESS OF BERWICK. 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 DARLINGTON. 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.

DUCHESS OF BERWICK. The odd trick? Is that the husband, Lord Darlington?

LORD DARLINGTON. It would be rather a good name for the modern husband.

DUCHESS OF BERWICK. Dear Lord Darlington, how thoroughly depraved you are!

LADY WINDERMERE. Lord Darlington is trivial.

LORD DARLINGTON. Ah, don’t say that, Lady Windermere.

LADY WINDERMERE. Why do you _talk_ so trivially about life, then?

LORD DARLINGTON. Because I think that life is far too important a thing ever to talk seriously about it. [_Moves up C._]

DUCHESS OF BERWICK. What does he mean? Do, as a concession to my poor wits, Lord Darlington, just explain to me what you really mean.

LORD DARLINGTON. [_Coming down back of table_.] I think I had better not, Duchess. Nowadays 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 WINDERMERE. [_Standing up stage with_ LORD DARLINGTON.] Yes, certainly. But you are not to say foolish, insincere things to people.

LORD DARLINGTON. [_Smiling_.] Ah! you are beginning to reform me. It is a dangerous thing to reform any one, Lady Windermere. [_Bows_, _and exit C._]

DUCHESS OF BERWICK. [_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 AGATHA. Yes, mamma. [_Rises_.]

DUCHESS OF BERWICK. Will you go and look over the photograph album that I see there?

LADY AGATHA. Yes, mamma. [_Goes to table up L._]

DUCHESS OF BERWICK. 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 WINDERMERE. [_Smiling_.] Why, Duchess?

DUCHESS OF BERWICK. 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.

LADY WINDERMERE. Whom are you talking about, Duchess?

DUCHESS OF BERWICK. About Mrs. Erlynne.

LADY WINDERMERE. Mrs. Erlynne? I never heard of her, Duchess. And what _has_ she to do with me?

DUCHESS OF BERWICK. My poor child! Agatha, darling!

LADY AGATHA. Yes, mamma.

DUCHESS OF BERWICK. Will you go out on the terrace and look at the sunset?

LADY AGATHA. Yes, mamma.

[_Exit through window_, _L._]

DUCHESS OF BERWICK. Sweet girl! So devoted to sunsets! Shows such refinement of feeling, does it not? After all, there is nothing like Nature, is there?

LADY WINDERMERE. But what is it, Duchess? Why do you talk to me about this person?

DUCHESS OF BERWICK. 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.

LADY WINDERMERE. My husband—what has _he_ got to do with any woman of that kind?

DUCHESS OF BERWICK. 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 _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 ponies in the Park every afternoon and all—well, all—since she has known poor dear Windermere.

LADY WINDERMERE. Oh, I can’t believe it!

DUCHESS OF BERWICK. 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 WINDERMERE. [_Interrupting_.] Duchess, Duchess, it’s impossible! [_Rising and crossing stage to C._] We are only married two years. Our child is but six months old. [_Sits in chair R. of L. table_.]

DUCHESS OF BERWICK. 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 WINDERMERE. Are _all_ men bad?

DUCHESS OF BERWICK. 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 WINDERMERE. Windermere and I married for love.

DUCHESS OF BERWICK. 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. [_Rises_.] 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.

LADY WINDERMERE. Come back to me? [_C._]

DUCHESS OF BERWICK. [_L.C._] 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!

LADY WINDERMERE. 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.

DUCHESS OF BERWICK. Pretty child! I was like that once. Now I know that all men are monsters. [LADY WINDERMERE _rings bell_.] 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?

LADY WINDERMERE. You needn’t be afraid, Duchess, I never cry.

DUCHESS OF BERWICK. That’s quite right, dear. Crying is the refuge of plain women but the ruin of pretty ones. Agatha, darling!

LADY AGATHA. [_Entering L._] Yes, mamma. [_Stands back of table L.C._]

DUCHESS OF BERWICK. Come and bid good-bye to Lady Windermere, and thank her for your charming visit. [_Coming down again_.] 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. [PARKER _opens C. doors_.] 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.

[_Exeunt_ DUCHESS _and_ LADY AGATHA _C._]

LADY WINDERMERE. 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 _will_ find out. [_Opens drawer_.] No, it is some hideous mistake. [_Rises and goes C._] Some silly scandal! He loves _me_! He loves _me_! But why should I not look? I am his wife, I have a right to look! [_Returns to bureau_, _takes out book and examines it page by page_, _smiles and gives a sigh of relief_.] I knew it! there is not a word of truth in this stupid story. [_Puts book back in dranver_. _As the does so_, _starts and takes out another book_.] A second book—private—locked! [_Tries to open it_, _but fails_. _Sees paper knife on bureau_, _and with it cuts cover from book_. _Begins to start at the first page_.] ‘Mrs. Erlynne—£600—Mrs. Erlynne—£700—Mrs. Erlynne—£400.’ Oh! it is true! It is true! How horrible! [_Throws book on floor_.]

[_Enter_ LORD WINDERMERE _C._]

LORD WINDERMERE. Well, dear, has the fan been sent home yet? [_Going R.C._ _Sees book_.] Margaret, you have cut open my bank book. You have no right to do such a thing!

LADY WINDERMERE. You think it wrong that you are found out, don’t you?

LORD WINDERMERE. I think it wrong that a wife should spy on her husband.

LADY WINDERMERE. 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! [_Crossing L._]

LORD WINDERMERE. Margaret! don’t talk like that of Mrs. Erlynne, you don’t know how unjust it is!

LADY WINDERMERE. [_Turning to him_.] You are very jealous of Mrs. Erlynne’s honour. I wish you had been as jealous of mine.

LORD WINDERMERE. Your honour is untouched, Margaret. You don’t think for a moment that—[_Puts book back into desk_.]

LADY WINDERMERE. 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 _do_ 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! [_Sits on sofa_.] And it is I who feel degraded! _you_ 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.

LORD WINDERMERE. [_Crossing to her_.] Don’t say that, Margaret. I never loved any one in the whole world but you.

LADY WINDERMERE. [_Rises_.] Who is this woman, then? Why do you take a house for her?

LORD WINDERMERE. I did not take a house for her.

LADY WINDERMERE. You gave her the money to do it, which is the same thing.

LORD WINDERMERE. Margaret, as far as I have known Mrs. Erlynne—

LADY WINDERMERE. Is there a Mr. Erlynne—or is he a myth?

LORD WINDERMERE. Her husband died many years ago. She is alone in the world.

LADY WINDERMERE. No relations? [_A pause_.]

LORD WINDERMERE. None.

LADY WINDERMERE. Rather curious, isn’t it? [_L._]

LORD WINDERMERE. [_L.C._] 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—

LADY WINDERMERE. Oh! [_Crossing R.C._] I don’t want details about her life!

LORD WINDERMERE. [_C._] 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.

LADY WINDERMERE. 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. [_Sitting R. at desk_.]

LORD WINDERMERE. Margaret, you could save this woman. She wants to get back into society, and she wants you to help her. [_Crossing to her_.]

LADY WINDERMERE. Me!

LORD WINDERMERE. Yes, you.

LADY WINDERMERE. How impertinent of her! [_A pause_.]

LORD WINDERMERE. 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. [_Standing L. of her_.]

LADY WINDERMERE. You are mad! [_Rises_.]

LORD WINDERMERE. 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.

LADY WINDERMERE. As a triumph for her, I suppose?

LORD WINDERMERE. 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?

LADY WINDERMERE. No! If a woman really repents, she never wishes to return to the society that has made or seen her ruin.

LORD WINDERMERE. I beg of you.

LADY WINDERMERE. [_Crossing to door R._] I am going to dress for dinner, and don’t mention the subject again this evening. Arthur [_going to him C._], 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.

LORD WINDERMERE. [_L.C._] Margaret, you are talking foolishly, recklessly. I won’t argue with you, but I insist upon your asking Mrs. Erlynne to-night.

LADY WINDERMERE. [_R.C._] I shall do nothing of the kind. [_Crossing L.C._]

LORD WINDERMERE. You refuse? [_C._]

LADY WINDERMERE. Absolutely!

LORD WINDERMERE. Ah, Margaret, do this for my sake; it is her last chance.

LADY WINDERMERE. What has that to do with me?

LORD WINDERMERE. How hard good women are!

LADY WINDERMERE. How weak bad men are!

LORD WINDERMERE. 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!

LADY WINDERMERE. Why should _you_ be different from other men? I am told that there is hardly a husband in London who does not waste his life over _some_ shameful passion.

LORD WINDERMERE. I am not one of them.

LADY WINDERMERE. I am not sure of that!

LORD WINDERMERE. 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.

LADY WINDERMERE. Nothing in the whole world would induce me.

LORD WINDERMERE. [_Crossing to bureau_.] Then I will! [_Rings electric bell_, _sits and writes card_.]

LADY WINDERMERE. You are going to invite this woman? [_Crossing to him_.]

LORD WINDERMERE. Yes. [_Pause_. _Enter_ PARKER.] Parker!

PARKER. Yes, my lord. [_Comes down L.C._]

LORD WINDERMERE. Have this note sent to Mrs. Erlynne at No. 84A Curzon Street. [_Crossing to L.C. and giving note to_ PARKER.] There is no answer!

[_Exit_ PARKER _C._]

LADY WINDERMERE. Arthur, if that woman comes here, I shall insult her.

LORD WINDERMERE. Margaret, don’t say that.

LADY WINDERMERE. I mean it.

LORD WINDERMERE. Child, if you did such a thing, there’s not a woman in London who wouldn’t pity you.

LADY WINDERMERE. There is not a _good_ woman in London who would not applaud me. We have been too lax. We must make an example. I propose to begin to-night. [_Picking up fan_.] 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.

LORD WINDERMERE. Margaret, you couldn’t do such a thing.

LADY WINDERMERE. You don’t know me! [_Moves R._]

[_Enter_ PARKER.]

Parker!

PARKER. Yes, my lady.

LADY WINDERMERE. 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?

PARKER. Yes, my lady.

LADY WINDERMERE. That will do!

[_Exit_ PARKER _C._]

[_Speaking to_ LORD WINDERMERE.] Arthur, if that woman comes here—I warn you—

LORD WINDERMERE. Margaret, you’ll ruin us!

LADY WINDERMERE. 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!

LORD WINDERMERE. I will not—I cannot—she must come!

LADY WINDERMERE. Then I shall do exactly as I have said. [_Goes R._] You leave me no choice.

[_Exit R._]

LORD WINDERMERE. [_Calling after her_.] Margaret! Margaret! [_A pause_.] My God! What shall I do? I dare not tell her who this woman really is. The shame would kill her. [_Sinks down into a chair and buries his face in his hands_.]

* * * * *

ACT DROP

SECOND ACT

SCENE

_Drawing-room in Lord Windermere’s house_. _Door R.U. opening into ball-room_, _where band is playing_. _Door L. through which guests are entering_. _Door L.U. opens on to illuminated terrace_. _Palms_, _flowers_, _and brilliant lights_. _Room crowded with guests_. _Lady Windermere is receiving them_.

DUCHESS OF BERWICK. [_Up C._] So strange Lord Windermere isn’t here. Mr. Hopper is very late, too. You have kept those five dances for him, Agatha? [_Comes down_.]

LADY AGATHA. Yes, mamma.

DUCHESS OF BERWICK. [_Sitting on sofa_.] 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! [_Scratches out two names_.] 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.

[_Enter_ MR. DUMBY _and_ LADY PLYMDALE _from the ball-room_.]

LADY AGATHA. Yes, mamma.

DUCHESS OF BERWICK. [_Fanning herself_.] The air is so pleasant there.

PARKER. Mrs. Cowper-Cowper. Lady Stutfield. Sir James Royston. Mr. Guy Berkeley.

[_These people enter as announced_.]

DUMBY. Good evening, Lady Stutfield. I suppose this will be the last ball of the season?

LADY STUTFIELD. I suppose so, Mr. Dumby. It’s been a delightful season, hasn’t it?

DUMBY. Quite delightful! Good evening, Duchess. I suppose this will be the last ball of the season?

DUCHESS OF BERWICK. I suppose so, Mr. Dumby. It has been a very dull season, hasn’t it?

DUMBY. Dreadfully dull! Dreadfully dull!

MR. COWPER-COWPER. Good evening, Mr. Dumby. I suppose this will be the last ball of the season?

DUMBY. Oh, I think not. There’ll probably be two more. [_Wanders back to_ LADY PLYMDALE.]

PARKER. Mr. Rufford. Lady Jedburgh and Miss Graham. Mr. Hopper.

[_These people enter as announced_.]

HOPPER. How do you do, Lady Windermere? How do you do, Duchess? [_Bows to_ LADY AGATHA.]

DUCHESS OF BERWICK. Dear Mr. Hopper, how nice of you to come so early. We all know how you are run after in London.

HOPPER. Capital place, London! They are not nearly so exclusive in London as they are in Sydney.

DUCHESS OF BERWICK. 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?

HOPPER. Wasn’t it made at the same time as the others, Duchess?

DUCHESS OF BERWICK. How clever you are, Mr. Hopper. You have a cleverness quite of your own. Now I mustn’t keep you.

HOPPER. But I should like to dance with Lady Agatha, Duchess.

DUCHESS OF BERWICK. Well, I hope she has a dance left. Have you a dance left, Agatha?

LADY AGATHA. Yes, mamma.

DUCHESS OF BERWICK. The next one?

LADY AGATHA. Yes, mamma.

HOPPER. May I have the pleasure? [LADY AGATHA _bows_.]

DUCHESS OF BERWICK. Mind you take great care of my little chatterbox, Mr. Hopper.

[LADY AGATHA _and_ MR. HOPPER _pass into ball-room_.]

[_Enter_ LORD WINDERMERE.]

LORD WINDERMERE. Margaret, I want to speak to you.

LADY WINDERMERE. In a moment. [_The music drops_.]

PARKER. Lord Augustus Lorton.

[_Enter_ LORD AUGUSTUS.]

LORD AUGUSTUS. Good evening, Lady Windermere.

DUCHESS OF BERWICK. 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.

[SIR JAMES ROYSTON _gives the_ DUCHESS _his arm and escorts her into the ball-room_.]

PARKER. Mr. and Mrs. Arthur Bowden. Lord and Lady Paisley. Lord Darlington.

[_These people enter as announced_.]

LORD AUGUSTUS. [_Coming up to_ LORD WINDERMERE.] 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.

LORD WINDERMERE. You are talking of Mrs. Erlynne, I suppose? I only met her six months ago. Till then, I never knew of her existence.

LORD AUGUSTUS. You have seen a good deal of her since then.

LORD WINDERMERE. [_Coldly_.] Yes, I have seen a good deal of her since then. I have just seen her.

LORD AUGUSTUS. 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. . . . [_Aside_.] 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.

LORD WINDERMERE. No explanations are necessary about my friendship with Mrs. Erlynne.

LORD AUGUSTUS. 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?

LORD WINDERMERE. Mrs. Erlynne is coming here to-night.

LORD AUGUSTUS. Your wife has sent her a card?

LORD WINDERMERE. Mrs. Erlynne has received a card.

LORD AUGUSTUS. 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!

[LADY AGATHA _and_ MR. HOPPER _cross and exit on terrace L.U.E._]

PARKER. Mr. Cecil Graham!

[_Enter_ MR. CECIL GRAHAM.]

CECIL GRAHAM. [_Bows to_ LADY WINDERMERE, _passes over and shakes hands with_ LORD WINDERMERE.] 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.

LORD AUGUSTUS. You’re excessively trivial, my dear boy, excessively trivial!

CECIL GRAHAM. 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.

LORD AUGUSTUS. I have a very bad memory. I really don’t remember which. [_Moves away R._]

LADY PLYMDALE. Lord Windermere, I’ve something most particular to ask you.

LORD WINDERMERE. I am afraid—if you will excuse me—I must join my wife.

LADY PLYMDALE. 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. [_Moves towards door of ball-room_.]

LORD WINDERMERE. [_C._] Margaret! I _must_ speak to you.

LADY WINDERMERE. Will you hold my fan for me, Lord Darlington? Thanks. [_Comes down to him_.]

LORD WINDERMERE. [_Crossing to her_.] Margaret, what you said before dinner was, of course, impossible?

LADY WINDERMERE. That woman is not coming here to-night!

LORD WINDERMERE. [_R.C._] 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!

LADY WINDERMERE. [_C._] 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. [_Moves up_.] 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.

LORD DARLINGTON. Lady Windermere! I knew the time would come some day; but why to-night?

LORD WINDERMERE. I _will_ tell her. I must. It would be terrible if there were any scene. Margaret . . .

PARKER. Mrs. Erlynne!

[LORD WINDERMERE _starts_. MRS. ERLYNNE _enters_, _very beautifully dressed and very dignified_. LADY WINDERMERE _clutches at her fan_, _then lets it drop on the door_. _She bows coldly to_ MRS. ERLYNNE, _who bows to her sweetly in turn_, _and sails into the room_.]

LORD DARLINGTON. You have dropped your fan, Lady Windermere. [_Picks it up and hands it to her_.]

MRS. ERLYNNE. [_C._] How do you do, again, Lord Windermere? How charming your sweet wife looks! Quite a picture!

LORD WINDERMERE. [_In a low voice_.] It was terribly rash of you to come!

MRS. ERLYNNE. [_Smiling_.] 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.

LORD AUGUSTUS. [_R._] Now really, Mrs. Erlynne, allow me to explain.

MRS. ERLYNNE. [_R.C._] No, dear Lord Augustus, you can’t explain anything. It is your chief charm.

LORD AUGUSTUS. Ah! if you find charms in me, Mrs. Erlynne—

[_They converse together_. LORD WINDERMERE _moves uneasily about the room watching_ MRS. ERLYNNE.]

LORD DARLINGTON. [_To_ LADY WINDERMERE.] How pale you are!

LADY WINDERMERE. Cowards are always pale!

LORD DARLINGTON. You look faint. Come out on the terrace.

LADY WINDERMERE. Yes. [_To_ PARKER.] Parker, send my cloak out.

MRS. ERLYNNE. [_Crossing to her_.] Lady Windermere, how beautifully your terrace is illuminated. Reminds me of Prince Doria’s at Rome.

[LADY WINDERMERE _bows coldly_, _and goes off with_ LORD DARLINGTON.]

Oh, how do you do, Mr. Graham? Isn’t that your aunt, Lady Jedburgh? I should so much like to know her.

CECIL GRAHAM. [_After a moment’s hesitation and embarrassment_.] Oh, certainly, if you wish it. Aunt Caroline, allow me to introduce Mrs. Erlynne.

MRS. ERLYNNE. So pleased to meet you, Lady Jedburgh. [_Sits beside her on the sofa_.] 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.

LADY JEDBURGH. [_R._] Most kind of you to say these charming things to me! [MRS. ERLYNNE _smiles_, _and continues conversation_.]

DUMBY. [_To_ CECIL GRAHAM.] Did you introduce Mrs. Erlynne to Lady Jedburgh?

CECIL GRAHAM. Had to, my dear fellow. Couldn’t help it! That woman can make one do anything she wants. How, I don’t know.

DUMBY. Hope to goodness she won’t speak to me! [_Saunters towards_ LADY PLYMDALE.]

MRS. ERLYNNE. [_C._ _To_ LADY JEDBURGH.] On Thursday? With great pleasure. [_Rises_, _and speaks to_ LORD WINDERMERE, _laughing_.] What a bore it is to have to be civil to these old dowagers! But they always insist on it!

LADY PLYMDALE. [_To_ MR. DUMBY.] Who is that well-dressed woman talking to Windermere?

DUMBY. Haven’t got the slightest idea! Looks like an _édition de luxe_ of a wicked French novel, meant specially for the English market.

MRS. ERLYNNE. 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. [LORD WINDERMERE _bites his lip and frowns_.] It will make Lord Augustus so jealous! Lord Augustus! [LORD AUGUSTUS _comes down_.] 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.

LORD AUGUSTUS. [_With a low bow_.] I wish I could think so, Mrs. Erlynne.

MRS. ERLYNNE. You know it far too well. I can fancy a person dancing through life with you and finding it charming.

LORD AUGUSTUS. [_Placing his hand on his white waistcoat_.] Oh, thank you, thank you. You are the most adorable of all ladies!

MRS. ERLYNNE. What a nice speech! So simple and so sincere! Just the sort of speech I like. Well, you shall hold my bouquet. [_Goes towards ball-room on_ LORD WINDERMERE’S _arm_.] 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.

DUMBY. [_With perfect nonchalance_.] Delighted!

[LADY PLYMDALE _glares with indignation at_ MR. DUMBY. LORD AUGUSTUS _follows_ MRS. ERLYNNE _and_ LORD WINDERMERE _into the ball-room holding bouquet_.]

LADY PLYMDALE. [_To_ MR. DUMBY.] 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?

DUMBY. My dear Laura, I wouldn’t dream of going!

LADY PLYMDALE. You haven’t told me her name yet! Who is she?

DUMBY. [_Coughs slightly and smooths his hair_.] She’s a Mrs. Erlynne.

LADY PLYMDALE. That woman!

DUMBY. Yes; that is what every one calls her.

LADY PLYMDALE. How very interesting! How intensely interesting! I really must have a good stare at her. [_Goes to door of ball-room and looks in_.] 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!

DUMBY. Why?

LADY PLYMDALE. 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.

DUMBY. What a mystery you are!

LADY PLYMDALE. [_Looking at him_.] I wish _you_ were!

DUMBY. 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.

[_They pass into the ball-room_, _and_ LADY WINDERMERE _and_ LORD DARLINGTON _enter from the terrace_.]

LADY WINDERMERE. 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!

LORD DARLINGTON. 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.

LADY WINDERMERE. 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! [_Sits down on sofa_.]

LORD DARLINGTON. 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.

LADY WINDERMERE. 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.

LORD DARLINGTON. Between men and women there is no friendship possible. There is passion, enmity, worship, love, but no friendship. I love you—

LADY WINDERMERE. No, no! [_Rises_.]

LORD DARLINGTON. 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—

LADY WINDERMERE. Lord Darlington!

LORD DARLINGTON. 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.

LADY WINDERMERE. [_Moving slowly away from him_, _and looking at him with startled eyes_.] I have not the courage.

LORD DARLINGTON. [_Following her_.] 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!

LADY WINDERMERE. I am afraid of being myself. Let me think! Let me wait! My husband may return to me. [_Sits down on sofa_.]

LORD DARLINGTON. 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!

LADY WINDERMERE. Ah, give me time to think. I cannot answer you now. [_Passes her hand nervously over her brow_.]

LORD DARLINGTON. It must be now or not at all.

LADY WINDERMERE. [_Rising from the sofa_.] Then, not at all! [_A pause_.]

LORD DARLINGTON. You break my heart!

LADY WINDERMERE. Mine is already broken. [_A pause_.]