The Collected Works of Oscar Wilde: 250+ Titles in One Edition. Оскар Уайльд

think he has any from you.

      LORD GORING. He certainly has no secrets from me. At least I don’t think so.

      LADY CHILTERN. Then am I not right in my estimate of him? I know I am right. But speak to me frankly.

      LORD GORING. [Looking straight at her.] Quite frankly?

      LADY CHILTERN. Surely. You have nothing to conceal, have you?

      LORD GORING. Nothing. But, my dear Lady Chiltern, I think, if you will allow me to say so, that in practical life —

      LADY CHILTERN. [Smiling.] Of which you know so little, Lord Goring —

      LORD GORING. Of which I know nothing by experience, though I know something by observation. I think that in practical life there is something about success, actual success, that is a little unscrupulous, something about ambition that is unscrupulous always. Once a man has set his heart and soul on getting to a certain point, if he has to climb the crag, he climbs the crag; if he has to walk in the mire —

      LADY CHILTERN. Well?

      LORD GORING. He walks in the mire. Of course I am only talking generally about life.

      LADY CHILTERN. [Gravely.] I hope so. Why do you look at me so strangely, Lord Goring?

      LORD GORING. Lady Chiltern, I have sometimes thought that … perhaps you are a little hard in some of your views on life. I think that … often you don’t make sufficient allowances. In every nature there are elements of weakness, or worse than weakness. Supposing, for instance, that — that any public man, my father, or Lord Merton, or Robert, say, had, years ago, written some foolish letter to some one …

      LADY CHILTERN. What do you mean by a foolish letter?

      LORD GORING. A letter gravely compromising one’s position. I am only putting an imaginary case.

      LADY CHILTERN. Robert is as incapable of doing a foolish thing as he is of doing a wrong thing.

      LORD GORING. [After a long pause.] Nobody is incapable of doing a foolish thing. Nobody is incapable of doing a wrong thing.

      LADY CHILTERN. Are you a Pessimist? What will the other dandies say? They will all have to go into mourning.

      LORD GORING. [Rising.] No, Lady Chiltern, I am not a Pessimist. Indeed I am not sure that I quite know what Pessimism really means. All I do know is that life cannot be understood without much charity, cannot be lived without much charity. It is love, and not German philosophy, that is the true explanation of this world, whatever may be the explanation of the next. And if you are ever in trouble, Lady Chiltern, trust me absolutely, and I will help you in every way I can. If you ever want me, come to me for my assistance, and you shall have it. Come at once to me.

      LADY CHILTERN. [Looking at him in surprise.] Lord Goring, you are talking quite seriously. I don’t think I ever heard you talk seriously before.

      LORD GORING. [Laughing.] You must excuse me, Lady Chiltern. It won’t occur again, if I can help it.

      LADY CHILTERN. But I like you to be serious.

      [Enter MABEL CHILTERN, in the most ravishing frock.]

      MABEL CHILTERN. Dear Gertrude, don’t say such a dreadful thing to Lord Goring. Seriousness would be very unbecoming to him. Good afternoon Lord Goring! Pray be as trivial as you can.

      LORD GORING. I should like to, Miss Mabel, but I am afraid I am … a little out of practice this morning; and besides, I have to be going now.

      MABEL CHILTERN. Just when I have come in! What dreadful manners you have! I am sure you were very badly brought up.

      LORD GORING. I was.

      MABEL CHILTERN. I wish I had brought you up!

      LORD GORING. I am so sorry you didn’t.

      MABEL CHILTERN. It is too late now, I suppose?

      LORD GORING. [Smiling.] I am not so sure.

      MABEL CHILTERN. Will you ride tomorrow morning?

      LORD GORING. Yes, at ten.

      MABEL CHILTERN. Don’t forget.

      LORD GORING. Of course I shan’t. By the way, Lady Chiltern, there is no list of your guests in The Morning Post of to-day. It has apparently been crowded out by the County Council, or the Lambeth Conference, or something equally boring. Could you let me have a list? I have a particular reason for asking you.

      LADY CHILTERN. I am sure Mr. Trafford will be able to give you one.

      LORD GORING. Thanks, so much.

      MABEL CHILTERN. Tommy is the most useful person in London.

      LORD GORING [Turning to her.] And who is the most ornamental?

      MABEL CHILTERN [Triumphantly.] I am.

      LORD GORING. How clever of you to guess it! [Takes up his hat and cane.] Goodbye, Lady Chiltern! You will remember what I said to you, won’t you?

      LADY CHILTERN. Yes; but I don’t know why you said it to me.

      LORD GORING. I hardly know myself. Goodbye, Miss Mabel!

      MABEL CHILTERN [With a little moue of disappointment.] I wish you were not going. I have had four wonderful adventures this morning; four and a half, in fact. You might stop and listen to some of them.

      LORD GORING. How very selfish of you to have four and a half! There won’t be any left for me.

      MABEL CHILTERN. I don’t want you to have any. They would not be good for you.

      LORD GORING. That is the first unkind thing you have ever said to me. How charmingly you said it! Ten tomorrow.

      MABEL CHILTERN. Sharp.

      LORD GORING. Quite sharp. But don’t bring Mr. Trafford.

      MABEL CHILTERN. [With a little toss of the head.] Of course I shan’t bring Tommy Trafford. Tommy Trafford is in great disgrace.

      LORD GORING. I am delighted to hear it. [Bows and goes out.]

      MABEL CHILTERN. Gertrude, I wish you would speak to Tommy Trafford.

      LADY CHILTERN. What has poor Mr. Trafford done this time? Robert says he is the best secretary he has ever had.

      MABEL CHILTERN. Well, Tommy has proposed to me again. Tommy really does nothing but propose to me. He proposed to me last night in the music-room, when I was quite unprotected, as there was an elaborate trio going on. I didn’t dare to make the smallest repartee, I need hardly tell you. If I had, it would have stopped the music at once. Musical people are so absurdly unreasonable. They always want one to be perfectly dumb at the very moment when one is longing to be absolutely deaf. Then he proposed to me in broad daylight this morning, in front of that dreadful statue of Achilles. Really, the things that go on in front of that work of art are quite appalling. The police should interfere. At luncheon I saw by the glare in his eye that he was going to propose again, and I just managed to check him in time by assuring him that I was a bimetallist. Fortunately I don’t know what bimetallism means. And I don’t believe anybody else does either. But the observation crushed Tommy for ten minutes. He looked quite shocked. And then Tommy is so annoying in the way he proposes. If he proposed at the top of his voice, I should not mind so much. That might produce some effect on the public. But he does it in a horrid confidential way. When Tommy wants to be romantic he talks to one just like a doctor. I am very fond of Tommy, but his methods of proposing are quite out of date. I wish, Gertrude, you would speak to him, and tell him that once a week is quite often enough to propose to any one, and that it should always be done in a manner that attracts some attention.

      LADY CHILTERN. Dear Mabel, don’t talk like that. Besides, Robert thinks very highly of Mr. Trafford. He believes he has a brilliant future before him.

      MABEL CHILTERN. Oh! I wouldn’t marry a man with a future before him for anything under the sun.

      LADY CHILTERN. Mabel!

      MABEL