The Importance of Being Earnest (25 page)

L
ORD
G
ORING
.
(Taking his hand away quietly.)
Yes: except that.

M
RS
. C
HEVELEY
.
(After a pause.)
I am tired of living abroad. I want to come back to London. I want to have a charming house here. I want to have a salon. If one could only teach the English how to talk, and the Irish how to listen, society here would be quite civilized. Besides, I have arrived at the romantic stage. When I saw you last night at the Chilterns’, I knew you were the only person I had ever cared for, if I ever have cared for anybody, Arthur. And so, on the morning of the day you marry me, I will give you Robert Chiltern’s letter. That is my offer. I will give it to you now, if you promise to marry me.

L
ORD
G
ORING
. Now?

M
RS
. C
HEVELEY
.
(Smiling.)
To-morrow.

L
ORD
G
ORING
. Are you really serious?

M
RS
. C
HEVELEY
. Yes, quite serious.

L
ORD
G
ORING
. I should make you a very bad husband.

M
RS
. C
HEVELEY
. I don’t mind bad husbands. I have had two. They amused me immensely.

L
ORD
G
ORING
. You mean that you amused yourself immensely, don’t you?

M
RS
. C
HEVELEY
. What do you know about my married life?

L
ORD
G
ORING
. Nothing: but I can read it like a book.

M
RS
. C
HEVELEY
. What book?

L
ORD
G
ORING
.
(Rising.)
The Book of Numbers.

M
RS
. C
HEVELEY
. Do you think it quite charming of you to be so rude to a woman in your own house?

L
ORD
G
ORING
. In the case of very fascinating women, sex is a challenge, not a defence.

M
RS
. C
HEVELEY
. I suppose that is meant for a compliment. My dear Arthur, women are never disarmed by compliments. Men always are. That is the difference between the two sexes.

L
ORD
G
ORING
. Women are never disarmed by anything, as far as I know them.

M
RS
. C
HEVELEY
.
(After a pause.)
Then you are going to allow your greatest friend, Robert Chiltern, to be ruined, rather than marry some one who really has considerable attractions left. I thought you would have risen to some great height of self-sacrifice, Arthur. I think you should. And the rest of your life you could spend in contemplating your own perfections.

L
ORD
G
ORING
. Oh! I do that as it is. And self-sacrifice is a thing that should be put down by law. It is so demoralizing to the people for whom one sacrifices oneself. They always go to the bad.

M
RS
. C
HEVELEY
. As if anything could demoralize Robert Chiltern! You seem to forget that I know his real character.

L
ORD
G
ORING
. What you know about him is not his real character. It was an act of folly done in his youth, dishonourable, I admit, shameful, I admit, unworthy of him, I admit, and therefore … not his true character.

M
RS
. C
HEVELEY
. How you men stand up for each other!

L
ORD
G
ORING
. How you women war against each other!

M
RS
. C
HEVELEY
.
(Bitterly.)
I only war against one woman, against Gertrude Chiltern. I hate her. I hate her now more than ever.

L
ORD
G
ORING
. Because you have brought a real tragedy into her life, I suppose.

M
RS
. C
HEVELEY
.
(With a sneer.)
Oh, there is only one real tragedy in a woman’s life. The fact that her past is always her lover, and her future invariably her husband.

L
ORD
G
ORING
. Lady Chiltern knows nothing of the kind of life to which you are alluding.

M
RS
. C
HEVELEY
. A woman whose size in gloves is seven and three-quarters never knows much about anything. You know Gertrude has always worn seven and three-quarters? That is one of the reasons why there was never any moral sympathy between us…. Well, Arthur, I suppose this romantic interview may be regarded as at an end. You admit it was romantic, don’t you? For the privilege of being your wife I was ready to surrender a great prize, the climax of my diplomatic career. You decline. Very well. If Sir Robert doesn’t uphold my Argentine scheme, I expose him.
Voilà tout
.

L
ORD
G
ORING
. You mustn’t do that. It would be vile, horrible, infamous.

M
RS
. C
HEVELEY
.
(Shrugging her shoulders.)
Oh! don’t use big words. They mean so little. It is a commercial transaction. That is all. There is no good mixing up sentimentality in it. I offered to sell Robert Chiltern a certain thing. If he won’t pay me my price, he will have to pay the world a greater price. There is no more to be said. I must go. Good-bye. Won’t you shake hands?

L
ORD
G
ORING
. With you? No. Your transaction with Robert Chiltern may pass as a loathsome commercial transaction of a loathsome commercial age; but you seem to have forgotten that you who came here to-night to talk of love, you whose lips desecrated the word love, you to whom the thing is a book closely sealed, went this afternoon to the house of one of the most noble and gentle women in the world to degrade her husband in her eyes, to try and kill her love for him, to put poison in her heart, and bitterness in her life, to break her idol and, it may be, spoil her soul. That I cannot forgive you. That was horrible. For that there can be no forgiveness.

M
RS
. C
HEVELEY
. Arthur, you are unjust to me. Believe me, you are quite unjust to me. I didn’t go to taunt Gertrude at all. I had no idea of doing anything of the kind when I entered. I called with Lady Markby simply to ask whether an ornament, a jewel, that I lost somewhere last night, had been found at the Chilterns’. If you don’t believe me, you can ask Lady Markby. She will tell you it is true. The scene that occurred happened after Lady Markby
had left, and was really forced on me by Gertrude’s rudeness and sneers. I called, oh!—a little out of malice if you like—but really to ask if a diamond brooch of mine had been found. That was the origin of the whole thing.

L
ORD
G
ORING
. A diamond snake-brooch with a ruby?

M
RS
. C
HEVELEY
. Yes. How do you know?

L
ORD
G
ORING
. Because it is found. In point of fact, I found it myself, and stupidly forgot to tell the butler anything about it as I was leaving.
(Goes over to the writing-table and pulls out the drawers.)
It is in this drawer. No, that one. This is the brooch, isn’t it?
(Holds up the brooch.)

M
RS
. C
HEVELEY
. Yes. I am so glad to get it back. It was … a present.

L
ORD
G
ORING
. Won’t you wear it?

M
RS
. C
HEVELEY
. Certainly, if you pin it in.
(Lord Goring suddenly clasps it on her arm.)
Why do you put it on as a bracelet? I never knew it could be worn as a bracelet.

L
ORD
G
ORING
. Really?

M
RS
. C
HEVELEY
.
(Holding out her handsome arm.)
No; but it looks very well on me as a bracelet, doesn’t it?

L
ORD
G
ORING
. Yes; much better than when I saw it last.

M
RS
. C
HEVELEY
. When did you see it last?

L
ORD
G
ORING
.
(Calmly.)
Oh, ten years ago, on Lady Berkshire, from whom you stole it.

M
RS
. C
HEVELEY
.
(Starting.)
What do you mean?

L
ORD
G
ORING
. I mean that you stole that ornament from my cousin, Mary Berkshire, to whom I gave it when she was married. Suspicion fell on a wretched servant, who was sent away in disgrace. I recognized it last night. I determined to say nothing about it till I had found the thief. I have found the thief now, and I have heard her own confession.

M
RS
. C
HEVELEY
.
(Tossing her head.)
It is not true.

L
ORD
G
ORING
. You know it is true. Why, thief is written across your face at this moment.

M
RS
. C
HEVELEY
. I will deny the whole affair from beginning to end. I will say that I have never seen this wretched thing, that it was never in my possession.

(Mrs. Cheveley tries to get the bracelet off her arm, but fails. Lord Goring looks on amused. Her thin fingers tear at the jewel to no purpose. A curse breaks from her.)

L
ORD
G
ORING
. The drawback of stealing a thing, Mrs. Cheveley, is that one never knows how wonderful the thing that one steals is. You can’t get that bracelet off, unless you know where the spring is. And I see you don’t know where the spring is. It is rather difficult to find.

M
RS
. C
HEVELEY
. You brute! You coward!
(She tries again to unclasp the bracelet, but fails.)

L
ORD
G
ORING
. Oh! don’t use big words. They mean so little.

M
RS
. C
HEVELEY
.
(Again tears at the bracelet in a paroxysm of rage, with inarticulate sounds. Then stops, and looks at Lord Goring.)
What are you going to do?

L
ORD
G
ORING
. I am going to ring for my servant. He is an admirable servant. Always comes in the moment one rings for him. When he comes I will tell him to fetch the police.

M
RS
. C
HEVELEY
.
(Trembling.)
The police? What for?

L
ORD
G
ORING
. To-morrow the Berkshires will prosecute you. That is what the police are for.

M
RS
. C
HEVELEY
.
(Is now in an agony of physical terror. Her face is distorted. Her mouth awry. A mask has fallen from her. She is, for the moment, dreadful to look at.)
Don’t do that. I will do anything you want. Anything in the world you want.

L
ORD
G
ORING
. Give me Robert Chiltern’s letter.

M
RS
. C
HEVELEY
. Stop! Stop! Let me have time to think.

L
ORD
G
ORING
. Give me Robert Chiltern’s letter.

M
RS
. C
HEVELEY
. I have not got it with me. I will give it to you tomorrow.

L
ORD
G
ORING
. You know you are lying. Give it to me at once.
(Mrs. Cheveley pulls the letter out, and hands it to him. She is horribly pale.)
This is it?

M
RS
. C
HEVELEY
.
(In a hoarse voice.)
Yes.

L
ORD
G
ORING
.
(Takes the letter, examines it, sighs, and burns it over the lamp.)
For so well-dressed a woman, Mrs. Cheveley, you have moments of admirable common sense. I congratulate you.

M
RS
. C
HEVELEY
.
(Catches sight of Lady Chiltern’s letter, the cover of which is just showing from under the blotting-book.)
Please get me a glass of water.

L
ORD
G
ORING
. Certainly.

(Goes to the corner of the room and pours out a glass of water. While his back is turned Mrs. Cheveley steals Lady Chiltern’s letter. When Lord Goring returns with the glass she refuses it with a gesture.)

M
RS
. C
HEVELEY
. Thank you. Will you help me on with my cloak?

L
ORD
G
ORING
. With pleasure.

(Puts her cloak on.)

M
RS
. C
HEVELEY
. Thanks. I am never going to try to harm Robert Chiltern again.

L
ORD
G
ORING
. Fortunately you have not the chance, Mrs. Cheveley.

M
RS
. C
HEVELEY
. Well, if even I had the chance, I wouldn’t. On the contrary, I am going to render him a great service.

L
ORD
G
ORING
. I am charmed to hear it. It is a reformation.

M
RS
. C
HEVELEY
. Yes. I can’t bear so upright a gentleman, so honourable an English gentleman, being so shamefully deceived, and so——

L
ORD
G
ORING
. Well?

M
RS
. C
HEVELEY
. I find that somehow Gertrude Chiltern’s dying speech and confession has strayed into my pocket.

L
ORD
G
ORING
. What do you mean?

M
RS
. C
HEVELEY
.
(With a bitter note of triumph in her voice.)
I mean that I am going to send Robert Chiltern the love letter his wife wrote to you to-night.