The Importance of Being Earnest (14 page)

S
IR
R
OBERT
C
HILTERN
. What an appalling philosophy that sounds! To attempt to classify you, Mrs. Cheveley, would be an impertinence. But may I ask, at heart, are you an optimist or a pessimist? Those seem to be the only two fashionable religions left to us nowadays.

M
RS
. C
HEVELEY
. Oh, I’m neither. Optimism begins in a broad grin, and Pessimism ends with blue spectacles. Besides, they are both of them merely poses.

S
IR
R
OBERT
C
HILTERN
. You prefer to be natural?

M
RS
. C
HEVELEY
. Sometimes. But it is such a very difficult pose to keep up.

S
IR
R
OBERT
C
HILTERN
. What would those modern psychological novelists, of whom we hear so much, say to such a theory as that?

M
RS
. C
HEVELEY
. Ah! the strength of women comes from the fact that psychology cannot explain us. Men can be analyzed, women … merely adored.

S
IR
R
OBERT
C
HILTERN
. You think science cannot grapple with the problem of women?

M
RS
. C
HEVELEY
. Science can never grapple with the irrational. That is why it has no future before it, in this world.

S
IR
R
OBERT
C
HILTERN
. And women represent the irrational.

M
RS
. C
HEVELEY
. Well-dressed women do.

S
IR
R
OBERT
C
HILTERN
.
(With a polite bow.)
I fear I could hardly agree with you there. But do sit down. And now tell me, what makes you leave your brilliant Vienna for our gloomy London—or perhaps the question is indiscreet?

M
RS
. C
HEVELEY
. Questions are never indiscreet. Answers sometimes are.

S
IR
R
OBERT
C
HILTERN
. Well, at any rate, may I know if it is politics or pleasure?

M
RS
. C
HEVELEY
. Politics are my only pleasure. You see nowadays it is not fashionable to flirt till one is forty, or to be romantic till one is forty-five, so we poor women who are under thirty, or say we are, have nothing open to us but politics or philanthropy. And philanthropy seems to me to have become simply the refuge of people who wish to annoy their fellow-creatures. I prefer politics. I think they are more … becoming!

S
IR
R
OBERT
C
HILTERN
. A political life is a noble career!

M
RS
. C
HEVELEY
. Sometimes. And sometimes it is a clever game, Sir Robert. And sometimes it is a great nuisance.

S
IR
R
OBERT
C
HILTERN
. Which do you find it?

M
RS
. C
HEVELEY
. I? A combination of all three.
(Drops her fan.)

S
IR
R
OBERT
C
HILTERN
.
(Picks up fan.)
Allow me!

M
RS
. C
HEVELEY
. Thanks.

S
IR
R
OBERT
C
HILTERN
. But you have not told me yet what makes you honour London so suddenly. Our season is almost over.

M
RS
. C
HEVELEY
. Oh! I don’t care about the London season! It is too matrimonial. People are either hunting for husbands, or hiding from them. I wanted to meet you. It is quite true. You know what a woman’s curiosity is. Almost as great as a man’s! I wanted immensely to meet you, and … to ask you to do something for me.

S
IR
R
OBERT
C
HILTERN
. I hope it is not a little thing, Mrs. Cheveley. I find that little things are so very difficult to do.

M
RS
. C
HEVELEY
.
(After a moment’s reflection.)
No, I don’t think it is quite a little thing.

S
IR
R
OBERT
C
HILTERN
. I am so glad. Do tell me what it is.

M
RS
. C
HEVELEY
. Later on.
(Rises.)
And now may I walk through your beautiful house? I hear your pictures are charming. Poor Baron Arnheim—you remember the Baron?—used to tell me you had some wonderful Corots.

S
IR
R
OBERT
C
HILTERN
.
(With an almost imperceptible start.)
Did you know Baron Arnheim well?

M
RS
. C
HEVELEY
.
(Smiling.)
Intimately. Did you?

S
IR
R
OBERT
C
HILTERN
. At one time.

M
RS
. C
HEVELEY
. Wonderful man, wasn’t he?

S
IR
R
OBERT
C
HILTERN
.
(After a pause.)
He was very remarkable, in many ways.

M
RS
. C
HEVELEY
. I often think it such a pity he never wrote his memoirs. They would have been most interesting.

S
IR
R
OBERT
C
HILTERN
. Yes: he knew men and cities well, like the old Greek.

M
RS
. C
HEVELEY
. Without the dreadful disadvantage of having a Penelope waiting at home for him.

M
ASON
. Lord Goring.

(Enter Lord Goring. Thirty-four, but always says he is younger. A well-bred, expressionless face. He is clever, but would not like to be thought so. A flawless dandy, he would be annoyed if he were considered romantic. He plays with life, and is on perfectly good terms with the world. He is fond of being misunderstood. It gives him a post of vantage.)

S
IR
R
OBERT
C
HILTERN
. Good evening, my dear Arthur! Mrs. Cheveley, allow me to introduce to you Lord Goring, the idlest man in London.

M
RS
. C
HEVELEY
. I have met Lord Goring before.

L
ORD
G
ORING
.
(Bowing.)
I did not think you would remember me, Mrs. Cheveley.

M
RS
. C
HEVELEY
. My memory is under admirable control. And are you still a bachelor?

L
ORD
G
ORING
. I … believe so.

M
RS
. C
HEVELEY
. How very romantic!

L
ORD
G
ORING
. Oh! I am not at all romantic. I am not old enough. I leave romance to my seniors.

S
IR
R
OBERT
C
HILTERN
. Lord Goring is the result of Boodle’s Club, Mrs. Cheveley.

M
RS
. C
HEVELEY
. He reflects every credit on the institution.

L
ORD
G
ORING
. May I ask are you staying in London long?

M
RS
. C
HEVELEY
. That depends partly on the weather, partly on the cooking, and partly on Sir Robert.

S
IR
R
OBERT
C
HILTERN
. You are not going to plunge us into a European war, I hope?

M
RS
. C
HEVELEY
. There is no danger, at present!

(She nods to Lord Goring, with a look of amusement in her eyes, and goes out with Sir Robert Chiltern. Lord Goring saunters over to Mabel Chiltern.)

M
ABEL
C
HILTERN
. You are very late!

L
ORD
G
ORING
. Have you missed me?

M
ABEL
C
HILTERN
. Awfully!

L
ORD
G
ORING
. Then I am sorry I did not stay away longer. I like being missed.

M
ABEL
C
HILTERN
. How very selfish of you!

L
ORD
G
ORING
. I am very selfish.

M
ABEL
C
HILTERN
. You are always telling me of your bad qualities, Lord Goring.

L
ORD
G
ORING
. I have only told you half of them as yet, Miss Mabel!

M
ABEL
C
HILTERN
. Are the others very bad?

L
ORD
G
ORING
. Quite dreadful! When I think of them at night I go to sleep at once.

M
ABEL
C
HILTERN
. Well, I delight in your bad qualities. I wouldn’t have you part with one of them.

L
ORD
G
ORING
. How very nice of you! But then you are always nice. By the way, I want to ask you a question, Miss Mabel. Who brought Mrs. Cheveley here? That woman in heliotrope, who has just gone out of the room with your brother?

M
ABEL
C
HILTERN
. Oh, I think Lady Markby brought her. Why do you ask?

L
ORD
G
ORING
. I hadn’t seen her for years, that is all.

M
ABEL
C
HILTERN
. What an absurd reason!

L
ORD
G
ORING
. All reasons are absurd.

M
ABEL
C
HILTERN
. What sort of woman is she?

L
ORD
G
ORING
. Oh! a genius in the daytime and a beauty at night!

M
ABEL
C
HILTERN
. I dislike her already.

L
ORD
G
ORING
. That shows your admirable good taste.

V
ICOMTE DE
N
ANJAC
.
(Approaching.)
Ah, the English young lady is the dragon of good taste, is she not? Quite the dragon of good taste.

L
ORD
G
ORING
. So the newspapers are always telling us.

V
ICOMTE DE
N
ANJAC
. I read all your English newspapers. I find them so amusing.

L
ORD
G
ORING
. Then, my dear Nanjac, you must certainly read between the lines.

V
ICOMTE DE
N
ANJAC
. I should like to, but my professor objects.
(To Mabel Chiltern.)
May I have the pleasure of escorting you to the music-room, Mademoiselle?

M
ABEL
C
HILTERN
.
(Looking very disappointed.)
Delighted, Vicomte, quite delighted!
(Turning to Lord Goring.)
Aren’t you coming to the music-room?

L
ORD
G
ORING
. Not if there is any music going on, Miss Mabel.

M
ABEL
C
HILTERN
.
(Severely.)
The music is in German. You would not understand it.

(Goes out with the Vicomte de Nanjac. Lord Caversham comes up to his son.)

L
ORD
C
AVERSHAM
. Well, sir! what are you doing here? Wasting your life as usual! You should be in bed, sir. You keep too late hours! I heard of you the other night at Lady Rufford’s dancing till four o’clock in the morning!

L
ORD
G
ORING
. Only a quarter to four, father.

L
ORD
C
AVERSHAM
. Can’t make out how you stand London Society. The thing has gone to the dogs, a lot of damned nobodies talking about nothing.

L
ORD
G
ORING
. I love talking about nothing, father. It is the only thing I know anything about.

L
ORD
C
AVERSHAM
. You seem to me to be living entirely for pleasure.

L
ORD
G
ORING
. What else is there to live for, father? Nothing ages like happiness.

L
ORD
C
AVERSHAM
. You are heartless, sir, very heartless!

L
ORD
G
ORING
. I hope not, father. Good evening, Lady Basildon!

L
ADY
B
ASILDON
.
(Arching two pretty eyebrows.)
Are you here? I had no idea you ever came to political parties!

L
ORD
G
ORING
. I adore political parties. They are the only place left to us where people don’t talk politics.

L
ADY
B
ASILDON
. I delight in talking politics. I talk them all day long. But I can’t bear listening to them. I don’t know how the unfortunate men in the House stand these long debates.

L
ORD
G
ORING
. By never listening.

L
ADY
B
ASILDON
. Really?

L
ORD
G
ORING
.
(In his most serious manner.)
Of course. You see, it is a very dangerous thing to listen. If one listens one may be convinced; and a man who allows himself to be convinced by an argument is a thoroughly unreasonable person.

L
ADY
B
ASILDON
. Ah! that accounts for so much in men that I have never understood, and so much in women that their husbands never appreciate in them!

M
RS
. M
ARCHMONT
.
(With a sigh.)
Our husbands never appreciate anything in us. We have to go to others for that!

L
ADY
B
ASILDON
.
(Emphatically.)
Yes, always to others, have we not?