Chapter III: Part 3

MRS. ERLYNNE. [_With a note of irony in her voice_.] To bid good-bye to my dear daughter, of course. [LORD WINDERMERE _bites his under lip in anger_. MRS. ERLYNNE _looks at him_, _and her voice and manner become serious_. _In her accents as she talks there is a note of deep tragedy_. _For a moment she reveals herself_.] 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. [_Hiding her feelings with a trivial laugh_.] 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. [_Takes up hand-mirror from table and looks into it_.] And it spoils one’s career at critical moments.

LORD WINDERMERE. You fill me with horror—with absolute horror.

MRS. ERLYNNE. [_Rising_.] 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 Repentance is quite out of date.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.

LORD WINDERMERE. A fatal mistake.

MRS. ERLYNNE. [_Smiling_.] Almost fatal.

LORD WINDERMERE. I am sorry now I did not tell my wife the whole thing at once.

MRS. ERLYNNE. I regret my bad actions. You regret your good ones—that is the difference between us.

LORD WINDERMERE. I don’t trust you. I _will_ 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.

MRS. ERLYNNE. You propose to tell her?

LORD WINDERMERE. I am going to tell her.

MRS. ERLYNNE. [_Going up to him_.] 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.

LORD WINDERMERE. Why?

MRS. ERLYNNE. [_After a pause_.] If I said to you that I cared for her, perhaps loved her even—you would sneer at me, wouldn’t you?

LORD WINDERMERE. I should feel it was not true. A mother’s love means devotion, unselfishness, sacrifice. What could you know of such things?

MRS. ERLYNNE. 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.

LORD WINDERMERE. [_Angrily_.] Then let me beg of you to leave our house at once. I will make your excuses to Margaret.

[_Enter_ LADY WINDERMERE _R._ _She goes over to_ MRS. ERLYNNE _with the photograph in her hand_. LORD WINDERMERE _moves to back of sofa_, _and anxiously watches_ MRS. ERLYNNE _as the scene progresses_.]

LADY WINDERMERE. 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.

MRS. ERLYNNE. [_Takes the photograph from her and looks at it_.] I am not surprised—it is charming. [_Goes over to sofa with_ LADY WINDERMERE, _and sits down beside her_. _Looks again at the photograph_.] And so that is your little boy! What is he called?

LADY WINDERMERE. Gerard, after my dear father.

MRS. ERLYNNE. [_Laying the photograph down_.] Really?

LADY WINDERMERE. Yes. If it had been a girl, I would have called it after my mother. My mother had the same name as myself, Margaret.

MRS. ERLYNNE. My name is Margaret too.

LADY WINDERMERE. Indeed!

MRS. ERLYNNE. Yes. [_Pause_.] You are devoted to your mother’s memory, Lady Windermere, your husband tells me.

LADY WINDERMERE. We all have ideals in life. At least we all should have. Mine is my mother.

MRS. ERLYNNE. Ideals are dangerous things. Realities are better. They wound, but they’re better.

LADY WINDERMERE. [_Shaking her head_.] If I lost my ideals, I should lose everything.

MRS. ERLYNNE. Everything?

LADY WINDERMERE. Yes. [_Pause_.]

MRS. ERLYNNE. Did your father often speak to you of your mother?

LADY WINDERMERE. 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.

MRS. ERLYNNE. [_Rising_.] I am afraid I must go now, Lady Windermere.

LADY WINDERMERE. [_Rising_.] Oh no, don’t.

MRS. ERLYNNE. I think I had better. My carriage must have come back by this time. I sent it to Lady Jedburgh’s with a note.

LADY WINDERMERE. Arthur, would you mind seeing if Mrs. Erlynne’s carriage has come back?

MRS. ERLYNNE. Pray don’t trouble, Lord Windermere.

LADY WINDERMERE. Yes, Arthur, do go, please.

[LORD WINDERMERE _hesitated for a moment and looks at_ MRS. ERLYNNE. _She remains quite impassive_. _He leaves the room_.]

[_To_ MRS. ERLYNNE.] Oh! What am I to say to you? You saved me last night? [_Goes towards her_.]

MRS. ERLYNNE. Hush—don’t speak of it.

LADY WINDERMERE. 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.

MRS. ERLYNNE. It is not your duty—at least you have duties to others besides him. You say you owe me something?

LADY WINDERMERE. I owe you everything.

MRS. ERLYNNE. 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.

LADY WINDERMERE. [_With bowed head_.] It is your will, not mine.

MRS. ERLYNNE. 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.

LADY WINDERMERE. [_Looking up_.] 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.

MRS. ERLYNNE. [_With a slight shudder_.] Hush, last night is quite over.

[_Enter_ LORD WINDERMERE.]

LORD WINDERMERE. Your carriage has not come back yet, Mrs. Erlynne.

MRS. ERLYNNE. 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. [_Moves up C._] 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.

LADY WINDERMERE. Oh, certainly, if it will give you any pleasure. But it has my name on it. It has ‘Margaret’ on it.

MRS. ERLYNNE. But we have the same Christian name.

LADY WINDERMERE. Oh, I forgot. Of course, do have it. What a wonderful chance our names being the same!

MRS. ERLYNNE. Quite wonderful. Thanks—it will always remind me of you. [_Shakes hands with her_.]

[_Enter_ PARKER.]

PARKER. Lord Augustus Lorton. Mrs. Erlynne’s carriage has come.

[_Enter_ LORD AUGUSTUS.]

LORD AUGUSTUS. Good morning, dear boy. Good morning, Lady Windermere. [_Sees_ MRS. ERLYNNE.] Mrs. Erlynne!

MRS. ERLYNNE. How do you do, Lord Augustus? Are you quite well this morning?

LORD AUGUSTUS. [_Coldly_.] Quite well, thank you, Mrs. Erlynne.

MRS. ERLYNNE. 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. [_Goes towards door with a bow to_ LORD AUGUSTUS. _Suddenly smiles and looks back at him_.] Lord Augustus! Won’t you see me to my carriage? You might carry the fan.

LORD WINDERMERE. Allow me!

MRS. ERLYNNE. No; I want Lord Augustus. I have a special message for the dear Duchess. Won’t you carry the fan, Lord Augustus?

LORD AUGUSTUS. If you really desire it, Mrs. Erlynne.

MRS. ERLYNNE. [_Laughing_.] Of course I do. You’ll carry it so gracefully. You would carry off anything gracefully, dear Lord Augustus.

[_When she reaches the door she looks back for a moment at_ LADY WINDERMERE. _Their eyes meet_. _Then she turns_, _and exit C. followed by_ LORD AUGUSTUS.]

LADY WINDERMERE. You will never speak against Mrs. Erlynne again, Arthur, will you?

LORD WINDERMERE. [_Gravely_.] She is better than one thought her.

LADY WINDERMERE. She is better than I am.

LORD WINDERMERE. [_Smiling as he strokes her hair_.] Child, you and she belong to different worlds. Into your world evil has never entered.

LADY WINDERMERE. 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.

LORD WINDERMERE. [_Moves down with her_.] Darling, why do you say that?

LADY WINDERMERE. [_Sits on sofa_.] Because I, who had shut my eyes to life, came to the brink. And one who had separated us—

LORD WINDERMERE. We were never separated.

LADY WINDERMERE. 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.

[_Enter_ LORD AUGUSTUS _C._]

LORD AUGUSTUS. Arthur, she has explained everything!

[LADY WINDERMERE _looks horribly frightened at this_. LORD WINDERMERE _starts_. LORD AUGUSTUS _takes_ WINDERMERE _by the arm and brings him to front of stage_. _He talks rapidly and in a low voice_. LADY WINDERMERE _stands watching them in terror_.] 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!

LADY WINDERMERE. [_Frightened_.] Has Mrs. Erlynne—?

LORD AUGUSTUS. [_Advancing towards her with a low bow_.] Yes, Lady Windermere— Mrs. Erlynne has done me the honour of accepting my hand.

LORD WINDERMERE. Well, you are certainly marrying a very clever woman!

LADY WINDERMERE. [_Taking her husband’s hand_.] Ah, you’re marrying a very good woman!

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CURTAIN